Gargoyles I, II, III: Dark Angel Alliance

by Rach Elle

  “Augmen please; don’t,” Junior pleaded as he tried to power out of the hold the demon had on him.

  Awilda backed up into the wall as the gargoyle closed in. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as fear ravaged her body. In one last attempt at escape she broke away to the right, running as fast as she could; but the gargoyle was too quick for her. He outstretched his arm and latched onto her short hair. He yanked her backward, forcing her to bend and show her chest to the ceiling. She winced in pain from his hold and looked up into Augmen’s eyes to see… sorrow?

  Awilda furrowed her brow as she registered his look of sadness. Regretfully, he lifted the knife and poised the weapon to kill her in cold blood. She shivered as he mouthed the words, I’m sorry.

  Augmen closed his eyes and thrust the blade downward as hard as he could only to stop midair. He opened his eyes to see his arm and the knife suspended, shaking as he tried desperately to push against the invisible force competing against him. He gritted his teeth and looked over his shoulder at the demon in the corner, “Are you doing this?”

  The demon shook his head, unsure of where the power was coming from. The Limrid was wrapped in iron; he was much too weak for this kind of manipulation.

  Augmen grunted and groaned as he continued to push until finally he gave up and pulled the knife away. He released his grip on Awilda’s hair. “Then who’s doing it?!” He demanded an answer.

  “Oh my god,” Cypro breathed. “The legend must be true.” His brother turned to look at him. He continued, “BeStone said that the only person who can kill the destroyer is the savior.”

  After a moment Augmen took a deep breath, “Fine,” he conceded, “Then we’ll have the savior do it.” He nodded once at the demon before walking over to Junior and placing the knife in his hand.

  Junior tried to resist the blade, but he could feel the demon’s power forcing him to grip the handle. Suddenly his body started to move away from the wall; against his will.

  “If the legend is true then this isn’t going to work,” Cypro began, “BeStone says that we have to wait until…”

  “I don’t care what BeStone says,” Augmen cut him off. He crossed the room and despite her trying to run away again, grabbed Awilda by the shoulders and held her in place. She tried to squirm but he was too strong.

  Junior’s eyes burned red and his body convulsed as he tried to stop the demon’s power. He looked at Awilda mere feet in front of him. She seemed so small as Augmen held her. Her white dress was dirty and the lace of the left sleeve had torn. The blue sash that was tied around her waist reminded him of the dance they were supposed to share tonight; the soft, rhythmic swaying as she rested her head on his chest. Instead he looked into her frightened eyes, unable to stop his feet from shuffling forward. “Awilda,” he bit through gritted teeth, “I… can’t… stop.”

  To Junior’s surprise, through a single tear that cascaded down her cheek, Awilda nodded. In a small, scared voice she said, “I know.” She opened her mouth to speak again, but couldn’t form any words. Instead she just mouthed them; It’s okay.

  Junior’s heart broke as the woman he loved accepted what he was about to do. Hatred raged throughout his body as he wanted to use the blade on himself. He was supposed to be the one person she could depend on; the one person that could save her.

  Junior clenched the knife tighter and fought as hard as he could against the demon’s power. The more he fought, the more he could see the demon out of the corner of his eye growing frustrated at the resistance. His feet began to move slower and slower; his steps becoming smaller until finally – he came to a complete stop.

  Augmen growled, “What is happening?!”

  “I told you it wouldn’t work,” Cypro yelled.

  “Why not?!”

  “Because the prophecy hasn’t begun.”

  Everyone turned to see BeStone entering the study from the balcony followed by Parag and a chained Fazal.

  BeStone looked at Augmen and shook his head, “Poor Augmen,” he began, “You were always such a disappointment. But you,” he looked at Cypro, “I truly expected more from you. Perhaps that is my fault.”

  “BeStone, please,” Cypro shuddered, “This was all a mistake. You have to believe me, we were driven by fear and confusion,” he pleaded.

  Augmen let go of Awilda and crossed the room toward his brother, “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about how we never meant to betray anyone’s trust.”

  Augmen’s jaw slowly dropped in disbelief, “I knew you were losing touch with reality,” he breathed, “But I had no idea you’d lost your mind completely.”

  “I haven’t lost my mind.”

  “He has you brainwashed!” Augmen motioned to BeStone, “Can’t you see that? Don’t you remember why we joined this clan in the first place?”

  “I remember why you joined it,” Cypro bit back. “But I’m here because BeStone was the only person that was willing to take me in. He was the only person I trusted.”

  Augmen’s shoulders slumped as he looked into the eyes of his little brother. Where he used to see innocence and genuine love, he now saw jagged edges and an inability to think for himself. When had this happened? He rapidly tried to pinpoint the moment in their history where he lost his little brother to this clan, but for the life of him couldn’t think of one. “I have never left your side,” he choked, “I have always been there for you. I should be the one that you trust.”

  “You are,” Cypro tried to backtrack, “but BeStone took care of both of us when we needed him the most. He doesn’t deserve this,” he motioned around the room. “He doesn’t deserve betrayal.”

  “But his mission is not the same as ours.”

  “He wants to end the prophecy.”

  “But not the right way,” Augmen cut him off softly. “You know deep down that the right way is to kill Awilda Rose.”

  Cypro shook his head, “No, I don’t. Please Augmen; stop all of this. Leave her be.” His eyes quivered as he looked at his brother. “I know BeStone is a forgiving and just leader. If you back off from Awilda and apologize for ever stepping out of line then we can go back to the way things were.”

  Augmen could feel his heart breaking at his brother’s pleading words. Despite what he believed to be right, he nodded, “Okay. But you have to leave the clan.” When his brother looked like he was about to object, “That’s the way things were. We’ll go somewhere – anywhere – and live our lives the way we want to; not the way he wants us to,” he pointed at BeStone. “I’m willing to do this for you. I’m willing to abandon our mission; to go against all that I believe,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “if it means I can have my brother back.”

  Cypro didn’t want to agree. He didn’t want to leave the clan. This was all he’d known for so long. But he knew if he didn’t go with Augmen then he’d lose his brother forever. Reluctantly, Cypro swallowed the lump in his throat and agreed.

  BeStone rolled his dark eyes, looked at Fazal and nodded.

  The orange eyed Limrid walked over to the still immobile Junior and retrieved the knife from his hand. Before turning he noticed the blood on the blade and the fresh wound on Junior’s chest. He looked up into the savior’s eyes and smiled playfully.

  BeStone turned to the demon, “It looks as though your services are no longer needed.”

  As if on cue Fazal pivoted and chucked the knife across the room with pinpoint accuracy; lodging the sharp tip of the blessed blade into the demon’s throat. The demon tried to scream in pain but could only manage to choke as his flesh burst into flames. He wheeled backward into the wall and the large drapery, igniting the fabric and setting the study on fire.

  Junior was released from his hold as Tauggle fell to the floor. He ran to the Limrid alongside Awilda and helped him out of his chains. As soon as Tauggle was free, Junior lifted Awilda into his arms and the three of them bolted for the balcony. He leapt onto the railing, spread his wings, and jumped into the
night air before the room was completely engulfed in flames.

  BeStone nodded to Parag, who then followed suit and leapt off of the balcony.

  BeStone watched for only a moment as the two brothers still faced each other.

  “Before we go,” Cypro began, raising his voice to be louder than the roaring flames, “you need to make things right with BeStone!”

  Augmen winced and grit his teeth in defiance, “We need to get out here!”

  “Whether you want to admit it or not – we are alive today because of him. You need to make it right.”

  With an uninterested sigh, BeStone knelt down and pulled the blade out of the demon’s throat.

  Augmen stood in silence for a moment, working his pride to an all-time low. The last thing he wanted to do was appease BeStone. But as he had already stated – and as he had known all his life – he would do anything for his brother; especially since Cypro was refusing to leave this inferno without an agreement. He shifted his weight to his right foot, preparing to turn and face the Egyptian gargoyle, when suddenly an ice cold pain stabbed into his back. Cypro screamed No as blood poured out of his brother’s mouth. BeStone twisted the knife and sliced to the right, severing Augmen’s spine.

  Cypro reached out just as his brother fell forward. He caught him in his arms and lowered to his knees, cradling his brother. Tears streamed from his eyes as a white light shined through his closed lids. He opened his eyes to see Augmen’s wings and tail disintegrate and his body morph back into the human he once was. Cypro continued to sob, ordering his big brother not to die, even though he knew it was too late.

  BeStone ignored the outpouring of emotion on the study floor and instead headed for the back corner toward a large wooden armoire. He made a fist and punched his way through the panels until he was able to latch onto an object inside. BeStone’s eyes lit as he pulled out the Grimoire; Hasmukh’s book of spells. He turned and headed back for the balcony, stopping for only a moment to look at Cypro.

  The young gargoyle looked up at his leader with tears in his eyes and a look of revenge on his face. “He didn’t kill her,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “No,” BeStone showed no emotion, “But he was a traitor nonetheless.” BeStone turned to leave. Just before exiting the study he looked over his shoulder at his youngest clan member. “There is no mercy for the weak, Cypro,” he called over the flames, “You’ll do well to remember that.”

  BeStone grabbed onto Fazal’s chain and leapt onto the railing.

  “Stone!” The Egyptian gargoyle looked up to see Parag calling his name and scaling the mansion’s wall. He was nearly at the top. “You need to see this!”

  BeStone changed course and instead began his ascent up the side of Hasmukh’s mansion.

  Cypro held his brother tightly against his chest as the flames roared all around him; the fire so hot he could actually feel the burning sting against his skin. Finally, he let out his last sob and decided this was not the way for his brother to die. He couldn’t allow his body to burn; to be forgotten in a pile of ash in a place that meant nothing to either of them. No, he deserved so much more. With his bitterness and hatred rising to horrific levels, he picked up his brother’s lifeless body and flung him over his shoulder. He ran as fast as he could before the flames could consume either of them and leapt off the balcony, hoping to find refuge before the light of day exposed them both.

  BeStone reached the rooftop with Fazal in tow. They climbed onto the landing to see Parag standing strong and eerily still. BeStone followed his friend’s line of sight to see a massive pile of wood. Standing in the center of the pile were two large wooden beams. His eyes scorched red as he realized that tied to those two beams were his ones; Amelie and Viattrice. They’re gargoyle bodies were immobile; restrained with cable and their mouths were taped shut.

  BeStone took a step toward them…

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Hasmukh rounded the corner; appearing from behind the wood pile. He was shirtless; his dark skin nearly blending into the night. He pulled out a match and struck it against his arm; igniting and holding the tiny flame within centimeters of the pile.

  BeStone realized Hasmukh’s intentions; he was going to burn his beloveds alive. He growled, “What do you want?”

  Hasmukh smiled proudly and let out a devilish laugh, “What do I want?” He began. “I want you to choose, of course. I want you to choose who shall meet their demise. The girls or,” his eyes hardened, “Parag.”

  BeStone stiffened as Parag remained calm. Softly, his Indian friend spoke to him, “You shall choose me.”

  “I shall do no such thing,” BeStone bit. “None of you die today.” He looked at his orange eyed Limrid through his periphery and asked, “Can you stop this?”

  Fazal held up his hands; the chains clanking in the wind, “Not with these. Remove them and I will put an end to all of it.”

  BeStone sneered, “That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it? To be out of those chains; you can forget it.”

  Fazal shrugged just as the door to the rooftop swung open.

  Hasmukh looked over his shoulder, annoyed by the interruption. He blew out the match in his hand as two of his demons approached. They each had a shifted gargoyle in hand; bound too tightly to move. They threw the old man and the petite woman in front of them, “Look what we caught sneaking around the place; friends of the savior,” one of the demons grumbled.

  Hasmukh surveyed the two gargoyles on their knees; their torsos were tied rendering their arms and wings useless. The old man was dressed casually while the girl wore a green formal gown. She was truly a beautiful sight, but hardly worth his time.

  He crooked a brow, “I must tell you,” he advised, “I simply despise trespassers.” After a moment of silence he shrugged and rolled his eyes, “There is no reason for you to be here, anyway. Your friends are safe and have long since fled. The savior and destroyer are together again in the most twisted love story. They’re probably on their way home, I’d imagine.”

  Cooper looked up at the shirtless Indian man with jewels embedded in his chest. She tried to wet her dry throat and managed to ask, “What about Tauggle?”

  Junior held Awilda tightly in his arms as they soared through the air alongside Tauggle. Once they were out of the Wiltshire valley he looked over his shoulder at the white haired Limrid, “I think it’s time you just zap us back to the castle now!” He called over the wind.

  Tauggle nodded and prepared to do just that when his ears suddenly spiked with a familiar sound; his name. For the first time his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest as his stomach churned; nausea ravaging his body. He recognized that voice.

  Tauggle looked at Junior and ordered, “Just keep going!”

  He disappeared.

  Hasmukh smiled, “I’m afraid the Limrid has left the building.” After a moment he crossed his arms in front of his chest with a huff. “I don’t suppose if I were to let you two go that you’d just leave peacefully, would you?”

  Cooper and Kingsley both lifted their chins and eyed the danger Amelie and Viattrice were in. They didn’t know the two very well, but they were innocents in danger. They looked at each other through their peripheries; a silent agreement that they couldn’t leave without trying to help; they wouldn’t be able to live with themselves.

  Hasmukh rolled his eyes again, “Very well,” he turned to his two demons. “Do with them what you wish.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  Hasmukh whipped his head around to see Tauggle standing before him. His white hair shimmered in the moonlight and his gold eyes sparkled brighter than the stars. He dropped his arms and smiled, “Tauggle,” he breathed, “And here I thought you left without saying goodbye. Although I must say, I’m a little taken aback at your crude tone. Where did you learn such language?”

  Tauggle ignored Hasmukh and began slowly crossing the clearing toward Cooper and Kingsley. “Your demons best not touch either of them.”
/>   Hasmukh’s brows popped, “And why not?”

  Tauggle’s eyes drifted downward for only a half second to see Cooper on her knees wearing the dark green dress she had picked out for tonight’s reception. Anger boiled inside of him as he thought of the danger she was in. “Because,” he answered as he took a stance directly in front of the two gargoyles; facing the demons. “Then I’d have to send them both back to hell.”

  The demons smirked and laughed.

  Balls of electricity formed in Tauggle’s palms; a threat of attack. The demons stopped laughing and scowled before advancing on the Limrid.

  Hasmukh held up his hand, stopping the demons in their tracks. He observed Tauggle’s stance with a lifted brow for only a moment before turning to his servants, “That is all.” He waited patiently as his demons sneered at his order, but ultimately retreated back into the mansion. He looked back at Tauggle, “They’re stubborn, but obedient.” He placed his hands on his hips, “And as long as you three leave quietly I promise I won’t change my mind.”

  Tauggle nodded. He reached down and untied Kingsley. As the old gargoyle got to his feet he worked to release Cooper. She looked to him with her large, brown eyes, “We can’t just leave Amelie and Viattrice.”

  Tauggle’s heart broke at the sound her pleading voice. He helped her to her feet and took her face in his hands, “Yes you can.” He stared into her eyes for what felt like an eternity before whispering, “Now go. I won’t be far behind.”

  Hasmukh stood in discreet awe for only a moment before turning to BeStone. The Egyptian gargoyle had turned his back; looking out on the moonlit valley below as the flames from the study threatened to reach the rooftop. “Have you made your decision?” He called to his enemy.

  “I’m sorry Hasmukh,” BeStone answered just as he turned around to reveal a large open book in his hands, “I’m afraid you’ve underestimated me; again.”