Soul of Stone

by Leo Romero

  I had to do something. Now.

  “Clap your hands!” Draxil managed to utter, just as flies crawled into his mouth. He spat them back out and more raced over his eyes. He let out a groan of agony. “Cross the streams!”

  I stared down at my palms. “I thought you said not to.”

  “Do it!” Draxil shouted, and the flies swarmed into his mouth. Now his whole head was covered. He was done for.

  I went to my neutral place. Gretchen. Lucy. Mom. Daughter. Light magic exploded in an iridescent glow around one palm, and a hot, shimmering mist of dark rose from the other, a fat shitball forming.

  Draxil’s fly-infested body collapsed to the roof.

  I looked from my hands to Pestilence. He puffed up his chest and brought his hands down. The flies swarmed in. A harsh buzz reverberated through the air.

  I took a quick breath and closed my eyes. “Please work,” I said and slammed my palms together.

  Chapter 35

  Power exploded outward.

  My hands were ignited dynamite. I was thrown up into the sky, the epicenter of a shockwave that spread across the rooftop. Everything was sucked up into the whistling vortex. The flies, the bodies, the weapons, as well as Draxil and Pestilence, all flung up as if we’d all been fitted with jetpacks.

  The world zoomed by my flailing body, the whole of the Loop coming into view. We burst through the gray clouds, veins of lightning fizzing around them. Above the clouds was a tranquil plane of unblemished sky, the air icy. In the distance, a perfect sun burned hard and bright. Our ascent slowed as the world became a bubble. We were drawn up further in the vacuum, frozen in time, all the pieces of the battle floating in serenity. Pestilence was upside down, arms and legs caught in a star-fish pose. Draxil, still smothered with flies, hovered over to the right. Pieces of horse-man rotated lazily alongside Draxil’s chainsaw. A frozen Margaroth, Jagelon glued to his back, drifted by in perfect peace.

  Every single fly was caught up there with us, each individual one clear and distinct. I could see their massive eyes, wings caught in time, the tiny hairs on their legs. One was inches from my face, giving me a close-up, intricate view of it as it was ready to devour my eyeball. Its soulless eyes observed me with murderous intent.

  I reached out to touch it, my hand moving in extreme slo-mo. My fingertips brushed it before it trembled and burst with a small pop, its tiny legs and wings floating off into the ether. A second later and it was happening all around me. The flies were bursting apart one by one. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Like tiny firecrackers. I watched in bewilderment as the flies perished under the pressure.

  I spun languidly on the air like an astronaut in zero gravity. Draxil was alongside me, now free of the flies, his body bleeding and scarred. We were pushed higher, the blue sky darkening to a star-studded black blanket. In the distance, planets aligned, my deeper vision allowing me to see them in all their beauty. Burned-orange, cold-blue, red-dusted globes. The vast expanse of creation sprawling out all around me. In the distance, the golden sun burned so bright, I couldn’t gaze at it. I closed my eyes against it, and when I did, a voice reverberated in my mind.

  “I love you, Daddy. Please come back.”

  I snapped my eyes open as an almighty power from below sucked us back. We were forced to go with it like spiders plunging down a plughole. My back arched downward as the energy dragged everything back down at the rate of knots. The sky flashed from black to blue once more, and I punched through the clouds. Now able to move my limbs, I flailed on the air. I tried to flap my wings, but to no avail. The force working on us was way too strong. Wind whistled by, my mind a carousel of terror.

  I was flipped on the air. The roof of Dark Suits Tower came hurtling into view. The pressure continued unabated as it sucked us to our doom. Gray concrete dominated my vision. I looked at my palms to see the dark and light magic still burning. Without thinking, I clapped my hands once more. More power exploded outward, hitting the roof and rebounding back toward us, making my hair fly back. The pace of my descent slowed at the last moment, and instead of smashing into the roof and bursting open, I hit it hard enough for it to hurt.

  Pain rocketed through me. Stuff crashed down all around me, some of it bouncing around. A couple of loud grunts of pain shot into the air.

  Dead flies rained down all over everything, littering the roof like black confetti.

  In the distance, a chorus of car alarms and sirens echoed through the city. It played out somewhere at the back of my mind. My head hummed like a bell. My eyes were woozy, my body battered and beaten. Pain rooted me. I pushed through it, managing to get up to my knees. I almost collapsed back down from exhaustion, but I held on. I gazed at the scene of devastation ahead of me through bleary eyes. Pestilence lay on his back over to the left, his arms outstretched. Draxil lay to the right in a crumpled heap. Between us all, body parts and bloodstained weapons were strewn around the bloodied roof.

  It had been the battle to end all battles. And it still wasn’t over.

  Draxil stirred into life. He groaned as he hauled his battered body to its feet. He was broken, bloody, on the brink of death. Blood gushed from wounds and orifices. His breathing was guttural, his limbs barely functioned how they should.

  He limped toward Pestilence, every movement causing more blood to spurt from wounds, his face contorting in pain as he staggered drunkenly toward his enemy. I watched him go with apathetic eyes. I barely had the energy to move. I put up a feeble hand, but Draxil was no longer home.

  He grabbed Excalibur’s hilt and dragged the weapon along with him, his wild gaze fixed on Pestilence. I flicked my eyes toward the horseman. He was still alive. He rose up onto an elbow, rubbing his damaged and bleeding head with his free hand. He still hadn’t noticed the raging, wrecked demon heading his way. The screech of Excalibur’s blade dragging along the concrete made the hairs on the back of my neck spring to attention. I wanted to speak, but my energy had been sapped. My chest heaved; my heart beat slow. I almost collapsed, falling to my hands. I lifted up my head, my long, dirty hair obscuring my view. Through it, I watched Draxil reach Pestilence. He collapsed to his knees ahead of the horseman in exhaustion, a broken mess. Pestilence attempted to stand; his face contorted in pain and he sprawled, at Draxil’s mercy.

  Draxil drew in strength through a big breath. With a jerk of his arm, he managed to get himself to his feet and Excalibur up above his head. Pestilence gazed at the blade above him and feebly shook his head.

  “This... is... for my brothers!” Draxil grunted.

  He let out a growl and went to bring the sword down on his enemy.

  “Ordion!” The voice rocked across the sky like thunder.

  Draxil came to an abrupt halt, Excalibur still raised above his head. I snapped my head toward the sky from where the voice came. Angels in robes of the purest white were descending to the roof like arrows, each of them swathed in brilliant light. Two carried swords humming with light magic, the other two trumpets made of the finest glowing gold. Their perfect faces glowed with benevolence and goodness, not a snarl, sneer, or frown in sight.

  It was some of the A-Team. The Archangels. I recognized Michael, but not the other three.

  They swooped down onto the roof. One of them stepped ahead of the others. Draxil turned his head to the side. “This has nothing to do with you, Gabriel,” he sneered over his shoulder at the Archangel.

  “Oh, it does, Ordion,” Gabriel replied.

  “That name is dead,” Draxil grunted.

  “No, it isn’t,” said another.

  “Of course it is, Azrael. The death. The destruction. I’ve gone too far. I’ve corrupted too many. Destroyed too much. All I wanted was for myself and my brothers to be pardoned. Lucifer lied to us. We never would have joined his rebellion if we’d known the truth!”

  “And you will be pardoned if you make the right choice,” said another Archangel. “Remember who you were, what you were. Consider your actions, Ordion. Spare Pestilence’s life.”<
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  “He helped kill my brothers, Uriel. He must die.” Draxil gnashed his teeth down at Pestilence, whose eyes flushed with fear.

  “Revenge solves nothing, Ordion,” Michael told him. “Killing Pestilence will not relieve you of your sins. Compassion will. Please, brother Ordion. Put down the sword.”

  Draxil placed Excalibur’s tip on Pestilence’s chest. “It’s too late for me, Michael.”

  I watched on with bated breath, my eyes flicking from the Archangels to Pestilence, back to Draxil. I didn’t know what was gonna happen next. Draxil had demonic traits running through his veins, which could direct him to do anything.

  Draxil let out a low growl of anguish, his gaze fixed on Pestilence. He abruptly drew Excalibur back, and my heart skipped a beat. Pestilence gasped in terror. Draxil released an almighty howl. I threw out a desperate hand, just as Draxil made his final move.

  He roared.

  And slung Excalibur to the side.

  Everything went quiet. I closed my eyes briefly, relief suffusing me.

  Draxil’s head slumped between his shoulders. With a limp, he turned on his heels, a sheepish aura about him. His body bled; his chest heaved. He was defeated, broken, dispirited.

  Michael stepped forward, his hands held out ahead of him. Draxil watched him with concerned eyes, expecting the worst. Michael raised his hands, and Draxil flinched, letting out a fearful growl. Michael placed gentle hands on Draxil’s shoulders and embraced him. “Welcome back, brother,” he said softly before releasing him and stepping away.

  Uriel followed up. Draxil watched him in trepidation. Uriel embraced him. “Welcome back, brother,” he said.

  Draxil frowned in confusion. He returned the embrace, that perplexed expression remaining. Uriel released him and stepped away. Azrael stepped up next and embraced him. “Welcome back, brother,” he said, and Draxil nodded, his eyes filling with black tears.

  Finally, Gabriel stepped up to him. He plucked an olive wreath from his belt. Draxil’s wet eyes widened in shock. He flicked his head up to meet Gabriel’s gaze. Gabriel gave him a pleasant smile and nodded. Hope ignited in Draxil’s eyes. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head.

  Gabriel placed the wreath atop his head and said, “You are forgiven.”

  There was a blinding flash of light. I lifted a hand over my eyes to protect them. The sound of flapping wings played out, and I looked back to see Draxil was gone. In his place was a bearded angel radiating power and glory. Ordion.

  He gazed down at himself in shocked awe. When his transformation finally sank in, his mouth turned up into a beaming smile. He was a Greek god, perfectly sculpted, muscles taut, almost as good-looking as me. I wished.

  Despite his near perfection, there was a humbleness about him. It shrouded him, a cloak of humility. He’d been through hell and come full circle. He gave the Archangels an appreciative nod, a pained smile spreading up his cheeks. “And the others? Our brothers?” His voice was laced with anguish.

  Gabriel waved a light-imbued hand across the air, leaving a golden trace. “Their souls have yet to reach their destination. They can be redeemed.” As he spoke, the whole scene ahead of us shuddered into life. I watched on in bemusement as the battle played out in reverse. Limbs reattached themselves to bodies. Margaroth and Jagelon unfroze.

  The black horse-man and Lothar rose up from the side of the building.

  I watched the whole fight—minus Draxil and myself—play out. Every punch, kick, slash, stab. Every piece of magic thrown or wielded. I watched the horse-men devolve back into horses. Death came back to life, as did War and Famine. Pestilence was dragged across the roof, his wounds healing as he went. Weapons flew back into hands, blood reentered wounds, while my own injuries healed. In a few seconds, the horsemen were back on their horses, and both Jagelon and Lothar faced them. A small form Margaroth sat next to them, Gabriel sparing him the Void.

  Gabriel put his trumpet up to his lips and blew. An exquisite sound, soft and delicate on my ears, flowed across Chicago. The demons and horsemen twitched into life. They gazed around as if waking from a dream.

  The Archangels approached them. Gabriel stared up at the horsemen. “You lost the battle and were spared. You will return to serve your Lord and act only upon His will. This whole event is resolved and will be forgotten.”

  The horsemen bowed their heads in unison.

  “As you wish,” said Death. They turned and took to the sky. They vanished into the thickets of gray clouds in the distance, their forms shimmering into nothing. The clouds parted, leaving a blue sky. The sun bathed us all in golden light.

  Ordion stepped up to Lothar and Jagelon. “Ordion!” Lothar said in surprise, his eyes widening.

  Ordion gave him a solemn nod.

  Jagelon whipped his head around to meet the Archangels. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Margaroth yapped at the Archangels.

  “It’s over, brothers,” Ordion told them. “We have been pardoned. The names Lothar and Jagelon are no more.”

  Lothar met Jagelon’s disbelieving stare.

  “Isaac. Azilim,” said Uriel. “Kneel, and retake your names.”

  Lothar dropped to his knees with a thud and immediately bowed his head. Jagelon met my stare. I gave him a nod of confirmation. He looked at Ordion, who repeated the gesture. “Kneel, brother,” Ordion told him.

  Jagelon fell to his knees, head bowed, hands clasped together in prayer. Margaroth ran in small circles while Gabriel placed his olive wreath on first Jagelon’s head and then Lothar’s massive head. Their demonic forms melted away, Lothar shrinking in size, until they became angels. They rose to their feet, gazing down at their bodies, Lothar now Isaac, a brown-haired, dark-skinned honed athlete, and Jagelon now Azilim, a long-haired muscled model.

  Well, they couldn’t be ugly, could they?

  “What of Vlahm?” Ordion asked.

  “I’m afraid his soul is lost in Hell,” stated Michael.

  Ordion nodded in lament. “Then we will find him and bring him back.” He met my gaze and approached me. “Thank you, Gabriel.” I wanted to hug him but didn’t feel too hot about hugging naked men. Instead, he put a hand on my shoulder, and I placed mine on his. His delts rocked. Asshole.

  “Thank you, friend,” he said.

  I nodded in response. “No problem, brother.”

  “You’ll always have an ally in Heaven,” Ordion told me.

  I nodded. “That’s good to hear, ’cause I think I need one.” A rush of emotion took hold of me, and all I wanted to do was hug the guy. Ah, what the hell! Even though it had been the worst bromance ever, what’s a hug between buddies gonna hurt?

  I threw my arms around him. He did the same, and we hugged. That emotion rushed up to my head and tears squeezed out of my eyes, which was strange considering I was in angel form where emotions were more leveled out. It must have been real.

  We released one another. I wiped the tears from my eyes. After everything that had happened, Ordion’s smile was comforting. Ordion gave me a final nod and turned to join his brothers.

  “Thank you, Stone,” Isaac said, his hand held high toward me. The smile on his face told me all I needed to know.

  Gabriel came over and handed me Margaroth. “Here.”

  “Thanks, Gabe,” I said without much enthusiasm. Gabriel gave me a beaming smile, and Margaroth jumped onto my shoulder where he nuzzled at my ear. Old habits die hard.

  Michael stepped up to me.

  I gave him a knowing nod. “You knew, didn’t you? That Draxil was hiding inside me.”

  Michael smiled ruefully. “Yes, Gabriel.”

  “So you played me.”

  “No, I didn’t. I trusted you. I assumed you saw something good in Draxil and showed him compassion. You could’ve given him up and I would’ve sent him back to Hell, which, as it turns out, would’ve been catastrophic. Instead, you gave him a chance to redeem himself, which Heaven was willing to offer. I put my faith in you to arrive at this point,
and I’m glad I did. Besides that, the horsemen needed to be—”

  “Bitch-slapped?” I interjected.

  “Reset,” Michael corrected. “Which you all did admirably. Ordion and the others would never have been absolved if not for you, Gabriel. You can feel proud.”

  “That’s all good, but it’s cost me my soul.”

  Michael patted me on the shoulder. “Your path has not yet been walked. Your soul will be fine.”

  I didn’t know if I shared his optimism. “What about this?” I said, holding up my arm to show him my mark of Satan.

  Michael gave it a grave stare. He put on a grin. “Like I said, you’ll be fine.”

  I couldn’t help but feel his words were hollow.

  “Come on, Michael,” Azilim called. “I can’t wait to get back to Heaven and see some real women after the whores of Babylon in Hell. Millennia spent in Baal’s belly has made me anxious.”

  “You will behave accordingly or be banished,” Uriel told him in a stern tone.

  “Cross my heart and hope to die,” Azilim said. “Again!”

  Michael gave me one of his warm smiles, and I couldn’t help but smile back. He turned to join the others.

  “So long, Stone,” Azilim said. “It was fun.”

  “Bless you, Gabriel,” said Isaac.

  “See you, guys,” I said back. The angels all set off for Heaven, flying elegantly up to the sky, Margaroth yapping after them. I watched them go, sad to see Ordion and the boys leave, but at the same time happy for them. Happy that they finally found their way back into Heaven and regained their true forms as angels. But something burned in my heart, and I realized that in my human form I would’ve been feeling envy and regret.

  “So what about me?” I shouted after them, but no one was listening. “When do I get back into Heaven?” They vanished with a blinding flash of light. And I was all alone.

  I stared down at my hands. They were trembling. “What about me?” I said to myself, realizing I was still in this shitty world, doing shitty things, and living my shitty life. Margaroth nibbled at my earlobe, and I felt even worse.