Double-Barreled Devilry

by D Michael Bartsch

  “Ah, he rises.” Said Moloch. “The Fallen Hunter standing to meet his doom on his feet. A warrior of true courage.”

  My vision was a little hazy, but I could see the outline was taking shape. Details were starting to fill in. He was almost through. I had a plan. I wasn't sure it was going to work. To be honest, it was a good way to end up dead, with a high chance for failure.

  Leaning heavily on a gravestone, I twisted my body, reaching my arm around and grabbing the handle of the knife Sartre had left there. I managed to talk through gritted teeth as I started to work it out.

  “Did you know?” I ask. “Did you know what was going to happen to her when you gave me part of your power?”

  He laughed again. Bastard.

  “I had suspicions of what the outcome would be, but you have endured in a way I had not expected. In truth, I had hoped that the mixture of Grace and Hate would kill you, tear your mortal coil asunder.

  “What you've become instead is overwhelmingly more useful. Knowing that you are out there, and every day that you are, one of my former brethren is bound to this world in disgrace, brings me more satisfaction than you can imagine.”

  I squinted. I could see the outline of his figure clearly now. He had chosen to enter our world in human form. I bet he thought it was some sort of irony, or maybe it would just be easier to get through that way.

  I kept working on the knife. His shadowy outline began to fill with color. His skin was a rich tan; I wonder what kind of SPF you needed to protect you from Hellfire. His hair was black and oiled back, slick against his head, bleeding into a shoulder length ponytail. He looked like a young Steven Segal, back when he was a solid badass instead of a bloated Buddhist.

  Around his neck, he wore a chain necklace. A simple ring hung from it. The white gold band was thin and devoid of any diamonds. My heart cried out when I saw it. It had belonged to Elena, and the last remnant of who I used to be was locked away inside it.

  “You were always a prick.” I said. “Even Gabriel thinks so, and he loves everyone.”

  “Do not speak his name to me!”

  I felt the wave of anger burst from the tree. It was terrifying and awe-inspiring all at once, a hint of the shadow of the power of creation. I'd hit a nerve. Good.

  “Something I said?”

  “I will rip the flesh from your bones and feed it to you. I'll pull out your eyes and grind your bones to dust. I'll defile every orifice of your body, and when I'm finished, I'll allow you to die and enjoy an eternity of punishment in Pandemonium. In life and death, you belong to me. Your soul is mine!”

  Yea, he was pissed. He is the Lord of Hate after all. It would be a little disappointing if he weren't a horrendously hotheaded asshole.

  “Piss and moan all you want you son of a bitch. If you want my soul, you're going to have to work harder than this to get it.”

  The tip of the knife slipped free of my back. I flipped it with a flick of the wrist, catching it by the blade in my gloved hand. I planted my left hand on the cement stone and twisted my body to get as much torque as I could. I threw the knife and tumbled forward onto the wet earth.

  Power escaped from the tree. Water sprayed in a torrented wave and several gravestones around me shattered to dust. Feeling the power rush by all around me, the magic connected with my body and was negated instantly in a wave of nausea.

  I watched through the spray of water and debris as the knife tumbled through the air. He used raw magic on instinct. He could have used his magic to create a gust of wind. That would have tossed the knife aside, but he hadn't. He had sent forth a blast of pure Will, magical Will.

  Everything moved so slowly at that moment. The blade and handle were slick with my blood and no amount of magic poured out of the tree would stop the thing from tumbling through the air. My blood absorbed every last bit of the blast, and the knife plunged straight into Moloch’s chest.

  He should have screamed, but I think he was more shocked than anything else. He looked down at the knife. He looked back up to see me smiling at him, giving him the finger.

  There was a rush of wind as the air inside of the bubble rushed into the portal. The blackness collapsed in on itself in a brilliant burst of pure white light. Then, everything blew up.

  The trunk of the tree vanished. I felt splinters and chunks of bark tear into my face and the shockwave, while originally caused by magic, was very much made up of plain old energy. That meant physics handed me an ass whooping. I was blown back off the ground and slammed into the remaining half of a headstone ten feet away.

  It felt like an eternity, lying there, bleeding, and absorbing the leftover power meant to raze the planet to dust. Everything was dark; my vision clouded as my body shut down. I was vaguely aware of water and mud beneath me.

  I could have died at that moment. Part of me may have. Sitting in the darkness, the only thing keeping me from knowing I was back in the Void was the overwhelming sensation of pain. It was my only solace in a world that had lost everything else. Looking back, I wish I'd been able to laugh at that moment. I'd stopped the world from being taken over by Moloch, but the only thing I cared about was sticking it to him. I hated him more than I cared about saving every person on the planet.

  Lying in the dark, feeling the life drain out of me, I prepared myself to see him again. Moloch would make good on his promise once he got his hands on me, but for that moment, I'd won. That had to be worth something. It had to be.

  19

  The low candlelight cast long shadows on Elena. I used a rag to wipe the sweat away from her brow. The fever hadn't broken. She'd not awoken; the warlock's curse was ravaging her body.

  I heard the door open. I didn't take my eyes off of Elena. I could sense Gabriel's presence entering the room. He didn't speak.

  “They've denied the request, haven't they?” I asked.

  My voice was hollow and speaking pained my throat.

  I heard him take a breath, but the words would not come out. Tears filled my eyes. They rolled silently down my blood-covered cheeks. I hadn't bathed since the tunnels. I couldn't risk leaving her side for even a moment. If she awoke, or worse, I had to be there.

  Gabriel's hand stretched out and grasped my shoulder.

  “I am sorry, brother.”

  I felt something break. I'd had only one last hope, and it had just been snuffed out. Gabriel had sought out the Angelic Council. He'd asked for them to intervene. Elena was beyond the abilities of the Healers. Her life was in the hands of Fate.

  “When have you last slept?” Gabriel asked.

  “I cannot risk being absent. Not with her this close to the edge.”

  His hand squeezed tighter.

  “Her life is in the hands of the Father. Go, rest. I will stay with her till you return.”

  I wiped away the tears with my doublet. The Hellion stench was gone to my noise as I pulled the cloth across my face.

  “If she awakens, I will find you.”

  I let myself be moved from the chair. Hands on my shoulders, Gabriel walked me to the door. I turned to him.

  “Is it all for not?” I asked. “All the blood we shed. Does all of it make no difference? Her life hangs by a thread and the Council denies my request.”

  “They are bound by the law. They must not interfere.”

  “The law is stupid. It protects only those who violate it!” I spat.

  “You are pained. Go, sleep. I will watch over Elena.”

  I grasped his forearm.

  “I could use the device. Its power allows one to glimpse the future. I could gaze upon it and know.”

  “You know it is forbidden.” Gabriel said. “You must not think this way. Her life will continue, or it will end. It is up to the Father now.”

  “Please!”

  I could hear the desperation in my voice.

  Gabriel shook his head and moved me into the hallway.

  “Go and rest brother. Your mind is clouded by lack of sleep.”

  “Wake
me the moment she stirs.” I pled.

  “You have my word.” He said.

  I nodded and took a step backward. I kept my eyes on Elena's nearly lifeless body until the door was shut in front of me.

  The plan came to me in a dream. It went against everything I knew to be true, everything I'd held to be holy and just. Dressing quickly, I slipped from the room and moved silently. Elena could not have much more time. I needed to know that the future would still have a place for her.

  I walked out into the chilled night air. The courtyard was fenced in, and a fountain spilled water into a pool. It was well into the early hours of the morning, and the stars were darkening, leaving the world blanketed in darkness. It felt ominous and strangely knowing.

  I opened the door to the stables. The rusted hinges squealed despite my best efforts to keep them quiet. If the stable boys were present, they were sleeping and did not stir. I found the bucket used when mucking the stalls by the far wall. Horses brayed softly as I moved through the stalls. I paused when I came to Midnight.

  The black destrier was massive. Well muscled and from a line of horses that had served Venatori Knights for nearly four centuries. The beast was fickle at best and had been my faithful steed for several years. I had ridden him from the streets of London to the frosted wastelands of Eastern Europe.

  I slipped into the stall and placed a hand on Midnight's neck.

  “Easy boy.” I said. “It's me.”

  He bent his head and placed it against mine, a long tongue flicking out and searching for treats.

  “No treats tonight.” I said.

  I set the bucket down and grabbed ahold of his mane.

  “Elena is sick.” I whispered. “I need to keep her safe. There isn't any other way. I have to save her.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  “I'm sorry my friend.”

  I pulled the knife across the horse's throat. The steel bit deeply, glancing off of spinal column. Hot blood spewed out so quickly it nearly staggered me. Midnight dropped to his knees, instantly dead from the gruesome wound.

  I grabbed a hold of his corpse with both arms. A river of blood flowed down over me, covering me in hot, sticky blood. I waited a few moments before letting the great beast drop to the hay covered earth. I knelt, tears coming to my eyes again.

  I reached out a trembling hand and patted the side of Midnight's head.

  “Forgive me, friend. I know no other way.”

  Swallowing hard, I turned, grabbed the bucket, and snuck out of the stable.

  I'd almost been seen reentering the building. Normally, no one would question me. I was a Knight, and I'd been wracked with grief for over a fortnight. However, I had no way to explain why I was wandering the halls, soaked in filth with a bucket of horse blood. Regardless, I'd made it to the deepest levels of the building unseen, and I had locked myself away securely.

  I had hunted enough warlocks to know how sigils should appear. I drew the circle in blood and painted the Hellion speech at each point of the star held within the circle's borders. Once I finished, I set the bucket down and stripped to the waist. I entered the circle and knelt in the center of it. I closed my eyes. So far, I had committed crimes, but nothing that couldn't be forgiven.

  The moment I activated the circle, I would have used blood magic. It was an anathema, and the very thought of it sickened my stomach. I closed my eyes and put my head to the ground.

  “I have no other choice.” I said. “I've been left with no other choice!” I shouted.

  I took several deep breaths and sat up. I looked up to the ceiling and spoke through clenched teeth.

  “If you'll not save her, I shall.”

  With that, I reached out and sealed the circle.

  “Michael!”

  Gabriel's voice resounded off the walls of the small chamber.

  I looked up from Elena's body.

  “She can't be dead.” I said.

  Gabriel looked at me, mouth open and eyes wide. I looked down. Dried blood coated every inch of me.

  “What have you done?” He asked.

  “He told me that I could save her. He told me that I would have the power to break the curse.”

  “Who told you?” Gabriel asked.

  I looked at my brother, confused. The room was so dark that I could hardly make out his features. I couldn't feel the Enlightenment. The quiet hum of power had vanished when I broke the circle. My body felt weak, and everything around me felt so cold.

  Gabriel crossed to me in a few quick strides.

  “Where did all this blood come from?”

  “Horse.” I said.

  I looked back to Elena. I had wiped away the beads of sweat and no new ones had sprouted on her face. I leaned down and pressed my ear to her chest. The resounding sound of silence was all I could hear.

  “No.” I whispered. “He said I would be able to save her.”

  I looked back to Gabriel.

  “She can't be dead. He said I would be able to save her.”

  Gabriel grabbed me by the wrists and pulled me to my feet.

  “Who told you? What are you going on about?”

  My eyes stung with wet tears.

  “He told me he had the power to save her. We made a deal. He promised me.”

  I dropped to my knees as Gabriel released my wrists and took a step back. I barely felt the pain.

  I could hardly see in the darkness, but I heard the ringing of steel pulling from a sheath.

  “What have you done?” He asked. “What have you done?”

  He was shouting now. Someone else came to the door. I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. My heart was racing. The darkness crept from the outsides of my vision. I gasped for breath, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to fill my lungs.

  I went down to my hands and knees, coughing. I felt the globs of spit fly from my mouth as I desperately tried to breathe. I didn't feel myself fall. The cold stone against my face told me I'd collapsed. The darkness was complete, and I could see nothing. My mind screamed for air, but there was none. Alone in the darkness, I succumbed at last.

  For the first time, but certainly not for the last, I knew what it was like to live without a soul.

  20

  Waking up was inevitable. Where I was going to wake up, that had been the thing that I wasn't sure about when I drifted into the dark. Would I find myself face to face with the Lake of Fire? I didn't. Thank God.

  When my eyes finally cracked open, it was to the yellowish glow of an old motel lamp, the lampshade a tint of dingy cream. I tried to move and regretted it. Pain radiated out from my lower back with a death grip that spasmed my aching muscles. The noise I let out was a string of nonsense, grunts, and groans. My throat was raw, and I had a hell of a thirst to quench.

  I heard someone stir in the room. I watched as Carl Rodriguez's face appeared above me. He had that damn smile on his face. He even had the nerve to look happy to see me. Bastard.

  “Ah aug ah erg.” I said.

  Carl disappeared for a second and returned holding a can of Sprite and a pink bendy straw. He moved slowly, sliding a hand behind the base of my skull to support the weight of my head, as I leaned forward to drink.

  I guzzled greedily. The sugary liquid burned on its way down, leaving my throat hydrated and my mouth watering. It wasn't the burn that I was wanting, but I doubted Carl was the type to mix vodka with it for me.

  I finished the can.

  “Thanks.” I said.

  Carl lowered my head back to the pillow. His movements were delicate and precise. I could only assume that they were the result of having a cancer-ridden wife he'd needed to care for.

  “You're welcome.” He said. “It's the least I could do after you saved me from that thing.”

  “That? Nothing to it.”

  He smiled again.

  “It was pretty amazing. I don't know how you did it.”

  I tilted my head, seeing Carl sit down in an ugly maroon motel chair.


  “Prufrock's men picked you up?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “The police came to the house first. They had a lot of questions, but after twenty minutes a bunch of guys in suits showed up. They took me with them and brought me here.

  “I've been in this room ever since. They bring me food whenever I want, but I'm not allowed to leave. Prufrock came by once when they dropped you off. You were in pretty bad shape. The doctors seemed to know what they were doing, though.”

  “Doctors?”

  “Yea. Three of them. They came in and stitched you up. Hooked you up to the I.V.”

  I looked down at my left hand and saw the needle taped to it.

  “How long have I been out?” I asked.

  “Couple of days.”

  Interesting. Prufrock had taken me from the cemetery and brought me to the hotel room with Carl. That meant he wanted me alive, which meant he wanted something. That wasn't good. What would Prufrock want with me? More importantly, what would his boss want with me?

  Speaking of the devil, the door opened, and Prufrock walked through. His mountainous crony stayed outside. He was wearing the customary black, which stood out in a rather harsh contrast to the brown bag in his hand.

  My heart skipped a beat. I could only think of one thing that got put in slim paper bags.

  “Mr. Cain.” He said. “I see you are awake.”

  “Nothing gets by you.”

  He smiled, his white teeth managed to stay white even though they were reflecting dirty yellow light. I don't know how that worked.

  “I was on my way to buy you a get well card and figured that this would be more to your liking.”

  With that, he pulled a beautiful bottle from the bag. I saw that he'd sprung for Macallan 18. It was good, but broke as I usually was; I didn't spend the extra for the bottle.

  I was eternally grateful at that moment for everyone who'd ever been involved in the production, sale, and transport of the scotch in that bottle. From the farmers and factory laborers, all the way to the liquor storeowner, they all had my thanks.