My protective ring lit up, showing me the way in the encroaching blackness. I quickly emerged in a small foyer. A few rooms opened up to my right and left. One looked like a long-abandoned office; another was a storage room of some kind. My gaze locked on the light emanating to my far right. I followed the glow to a doorway that led to the chancel, the space around the altar.
Silence greeted my approach, and the glowing ring dimmed. The Seal of Solomon was my ace in the hole, and I couldn’t announce it to the Crimson Circle. At least not yet.
I emerged in the chancel and saw a number of guests filing down the nave of the church toward the exit. Even from this distance, I caught glimpses of flickering red eyes. Lamia had carried out her plan, as promised. Demons now lived within these well heeled flesh-and-blood shells. The moment they vanished through those doors, it would become impossible to stop them.
Damn! There was nothing I could do!
My eyes continued to roam the church, and I spotted two familiar faces in the nave. One was barely recognizable. Benson’s gore-streaked features stared blankly up at the ceiling. It looked like someone had tried to beat him to death. He was breathing shallowly, clinging to life. The detective was in dire need of medical attention.
A few feet away, Cyon lurked in a binding circle, the sigils that trapped him glowing eerily. Our eyes met, and I recognized his dismay. Clearly his plan to drive Demon Slayer through his former master had failed. And talking about the killer sword, where was the weapon? And more importantly, where were Morgal and Lamia?
Almost as if Cyon could still read my mind, he started mouthing words. My demon partner appeared to be yelling at the top of his lungs, but no sounds emanated from his lips. The binding circle’s magic at work, I figured. He scowled and pointed toward the ceiling.
I heard a muffled gasp, and my gaze turned upward. My eyes went wide, my blood turning to ice. Archer dangled above me, legs kicking as her body flailed. Someone had hanged her with her own whip, and she was fighting a desperate battle of survival. I had to find a way to sever the whip and get her down.
“There is no way you can save her,” a familiar voice said from behind me, and I spun toward… Skulick?
For a beat, I could only stare, incapable of processing what I was seeing. Had Skulick’s spirit jumped back into his body somehow?
Then I saw his eyes blazing with a dark red fire and I caught a glimpse of an otherworldly, reptilian monster beneath the familiar features.
I recoiled in horror. “Morgal!”
“Welcome to the party, dear Raven. Personally, I felt keeping you locked in a cell during this ceremony seemed like poor sportsmanship, but I couldn’t talk Lamia out of it.”
As Morgal brought up the cult leader’s name, he shot a sheepish smile at the red pile of steaming goo nearby. My stomach lurched, realizing I was staring at what was left of Crull’s daughter.
I shifted my focus back to Skulick—I mean, Morgal. How diabolical was this latest turn of events? The archdemon had chosen the physical form of a man I could never fight, even if I was armed with every mystical weapon known to man. I was unable…unwilling…to strike down Skulick. As long as his spirit lingered in this world, he could still be reunited with his body. Or so I had to believe.
A smile played across my enemy’s features. Morgal was getting a kick out of my suffering. Why had the archdemon chosen this form? Was it merely to torment me, or did he want to ensure that I would not attack him? Did he fear me so much?
“Nothing could be further from the truth, Raven. Don’t get me wrong, seeing that look on your face makes it all worth it. But I have another reason for choosing this aging flesh as my avatar here on Earth.”
I studied him. He was circling me like a prize fighter getting ready to land that first punch, moving with coiled intensity and athletic grace. My partner had never looked stronger. Morgal had mended Skulcik’s broken spine, had fixed the signs of age. His hair seemed less gray, and the wrinkles had smoothed in his face. He looked virile and dangerous.
I backed away from him, desperate and lost. Why had Skulick’s spirit led me here? A horrifying thought crossed my mind. Maybe it hadn’t been Skulick after all. It could have been someone else who lured me here, maybe one of Morgal’s minions. Was it all an elaborate trap?
No, don’t be a fool, I told myself.
Skulick had sprung me from jail for a good reason. He wanted me to come to this church. Wanted me here. I had to believe he was working some greater plan from beyond the grave.
Nothing in Morgal’s behavior suggested awareness of Skulick’s spirit form. That was the good news. But if my partner was cooking up some plan, he better share it with me fast. Archer and Benson were still hanging on, but if I didn’t help them soon…
Morgal regarded me coolly as he spoke again. “My most trusted lieutenants will all be boarding planes today and heading to countries all over the globe, where they will begin our reign on this Earth. The world will suffer and grow darker, and mankind will find it easy to let evil into its heart. We will breed fear, and hatred and our kind will flourish. As their power grows, the champions of light will fight back. The White Crescent and many other monster hunters will do their best to stem the dark tide, and all of them will turn to the world’s greatest monster hunter for help and advice.”
Morgal’s smile deepened at this as he pointed at himself, and the full horror of his plan sank in. His demons were not merely infiltrating the world’s elite but also corrupting those who could fight them. Anyone who approached Skulick for help would no doubt be captured and possessed. All our allies. All our friends.
I swallowed hard.
“All these years you fought bravely, Raven. As bravely as any human could. But mankind’s destiny is to be enslaved by us. The seed of evil is in all of you. I will makes sure come harvest time, the darkness will flourish”
Not if I have a say in the matter, I thought defiantly. My eyes ticked back and forth. What could I do? Above me, out of my reach, Archer was turning blue, her struggle growing weaker, the whip cutting off those last reserves of air.
Morgal was getting nasty, and damn it, it was working. I could feel the fight seeping from me with each new word from the fiend’s mouth. He was right. This wasn’t a battle I could win.
As despair threatened to engulf me, my ring grew hot and a gust of wind brushed past my face. I turned and saw Skulick’s ghost standing right next to the church’s altar. He pointed at his own ring finger, then gestured at the book. The moment lasted for only a second. My eyes scanned the altar, and suddenly I realized what Skulick wanted me to do.
I turned back to Morgal before he could suspect anything. Despite the archdemon’s power, he couldn’t see Skulick. Or at least he hadn’t spotted him yet. Only a few feet separated me from the altar—and, more importantly, the restored version of the Daemonium that rested on it. The book of magic radiated a spectral green light in the dim church, transforming the altar into an unholy shrine. Unlike Cyon, I couldn’t tap into the book’s power, and even if I could separate the three magical tomes, it wouldn’t send Morgal or his minions back to Hell. It was far too late for that. More drastic measures needed to be taken.
Trust Skulick, I told myself. I would do what my partner wanted me to do. I owed him that much.
“You think the White Crescent won’t catch on that Skulick has been compromised? They figured out pretty fast that I was possessed.”
“By the time they do, it will be too late. Ironic, isn’t it? I’m about to turn Hell’s greatest enemies into our greatest allies.” Morgal held up his hands. “I will kill you with these bare hands, Raven, and finish the job I started twenty years ago. The last thing you will see on this Earth is your mentor’s face as I squeeze the life out of you.”
Lovely.
I inched my way to the altar, only half listening to Morgal as he paced and ranted, detailing all the horrible things he was going to do to me.
Closer.
Closer.
> When I was close enough, I flung myself toward the altar. Before Morgal could react, I drove the Seal of Solomon into the glowing copy of the Daemonium.
My magical ring ignited, and power tore through me as the ring made contact with the grimoire. The book went supernova in an explosion of brilliant light followed by an incredibly powerful shockwave. The three books separated before my eyes, a vortex of loose pages shooting in every direction.
Morgal recoiled as the light engulfed him. In that brief moment, the archdemon was caught off guard, and he broke his hold on the whip strangling Archer. The leather strap choking the life out of her loosened, and she came tumbling down onto the church floor, gasping for air. The drop wasn’t too bad—only about five or six feet—and I had to trust that she wasn’t hurt. As much as I wanted to run to her, I had to finish things with Morgal first.
There was only one problem—I had no idea how to bring my nemesis down without a weapon.
My mouth dropped as I spotted Skulick’s spirit right behind his possessed physical body. Our eyes met, and I recognized both the resolve in those eyes along with a haunting sadness I did not yet understand.
My lips opened in a silent scream as I spotted the shimmering sword in the ghost’s hands. Demon Slayer. Skulick must’ve scooped up the blade Cyon had dropped earlier. A powerful spirit like Skulick could influence the world in subtle ways, opening doors or flicking light switches. But to wield the sword, he must have been burning through his soul’s essence at a terrible rate. If he didn’t let go, the power drain would snuff out his spirit like a candle.
And that’s when I finally understood what my partner was about to do.
His features locked into a steely mask of determination as he rammed Demon Slayer into his own back.
The archdemon must’ve sensed the attack coming because he moved aside at the last moment. But it was too late to completely dodge the magical blade.
The sword exploded from Morgal’s chest in a spray of gore, stunned shock rippling over the demon’s face. Morgal lightning-fast reaction had prevented the sword from piercing his rotten heart, but the sword had managed to cause some serious damage.
I could take no joy in the victory.
For a beat, my partner—my mentor, my father in every way that counted—eyed me with a mixture of pride and sorrow.
Proud to see that I’d come through.
Sad because this was goodbye. He had made the ultimate sacrifice to stop the archdemon.
Skulick’s physical form collapsed before me, Demon Slayer sticking out of his chest. He spit blood, the demon’s rage distorting the familiar features beyond recognition. The blessed steel shimmered with spectral energy as it ate away at his demonic energy.
“You think you defeated me? This is only a momentary setback. My minions will spread across the globe. No one can stop them now!”
I took a step toward Skulick, and that’s when I saw a long forked tongue shoot from his lips. It was followed by a serpent’s head and body. The monstrous reptile evacuated the body and undulated across the stone floor. The snake reared up and let out a hiss. But I wasn’t the serpent’s target. No, it was after Skulick’s ghost, who still stood to one side. Before I could do anything, the snake wrapped itself around his spectral form as if Skulick was flesh and blood. My partner’s shocked cry cut through the church.
“I may be going back to Hell, but I won’t be going alone,” Morgal said, his voice disgustingly sibilant as his forked tongue flickered.
And then both snake and Skulick’s ghost vanished into thin air, leaving only my partner’s dead body behind.
No.
“What the hell just happened?” My gaze shifted to Archer, who was massaging her bruised neck. Thank God she seemed alright.
“Jane,” I said, some of the tension leaving my body. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she rasped. “What about Skulick?”
Of course Archer hadn’t seen the ghost. She wasn’t gifted—or cursed, depending on your perspective—with that ability. As I struggled to get the words out, still not able to accept that Skulick was truly gone, another voice called out.
“You can still save him!”
I spun toward Cyon. The binding circle had vanished the moment Morgal was pushed out of our reality. His form was already fading without a human host.
If Cyon expected me to invite him back, he had another think coming. Possess me once, shame on me. Possess me twice—no fucking way.
“You can still save, Skulick!” he urged. “But you must hurry!”
“How? What do you want me to do?”
“Pull out the sword. Do it now!”
Something snapped in my mind, and I rushed toward my partner’s downed body. A beat later, I was kneeling before Skulick, doing my best to fight back tears. My hands closed around the hilt. For a split second, I wondered if this might be a trick, but my scar remained neutral. Cyon was truly trying to help. How could this action save Skulick if Morgal had snatched his spirit to Hell? I didn’t know.
All I knew was that I had to do something.
Mind made up, I pulled Demon Slayer out of my partner’s chest. Once the sword was free, I backed away. If Morgal should rear his monstrous head again, I would be close enough to strike him down with the sword.
I gasped, my eyes widening in wonder. Skulick’s wound was closing up, the torn flesh knitting itself whole again.
Cyon had been right.
For a heartbeat, I didn’t dare to breathe. And then my partner’s eyes snapped open.
Was the real Skulick back in the driver’s seat?
He silently rose to his feet until he was at his full height. He turned toward me, and my heart felt like it was going to explode in my chest.
“Skulick?”
He shook his head. “Morgal unfortunately kept his promise. Your partner is in Hell.”
Ice crept up my spine. I recognized that voice, was intimately familiar with its cadence. I spun around. Cyon had vanished. Of course. The demon was now inside Skulick’s body!
“Get out of that body right now,” I said, shaking with anger. Cyon had duped me again.
“Your partner’s body survives, thanks to me.”
“You expect me to believe you’ll give it up when we get the real Skulick back?”
“Believe whatever you want. My mission isn’t over yet. Morgal survives. And so do his lieutenants, while your partner’s soul burns in Hell.”
The horror of the image left me shaking. A good man, the man who least deserved eternal damnation of anyone I’d ever met, now condemned to be the prisoner of his greatest enemy.
“So, Raven, are you ready to go to Hell and get your partner back? I think it’s high time we finished this.”
The answer was yes. I would be willing to go anywhere to save him.
“We failed today because of my rash actions,” Cyon continued. “Only together can we defeat this terrible evil, Raven. I realize that now. Are you ready to try this again?”
The question hung there. Cyon was asking me to join forces with him as a full-fledged partner. And our next stop sounded suspiciously like Hell itself.
Raven and Cyon will return in
HELL BREAKER
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About the Author
William Massa is a produced screenwriter and bestselling Amazon author. His film credits include Return to House on Haunted Hill and he has sold pitches and scripts to Warner, USA TV, Silver Pictures, Dark Castle, Maverick and Sony.
William has lived in New York, Florida, Europe and
now resides in Venice Beach surrounded by skaters and surfers. He writes science fiction and dark fantasy/urban fantasy horror with an action-adventure flavor.
Writing can be a solitary pursuit but rewriting can be a group effort. I strive to make each book better than the last and feedback is incredibly helpful. If you have notes, thoughts or comments about this book or want to contact me, feel free to contact me at:
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Also by WILLIAM MASSA
THE SHADOW DETECTIVE SERIES
Cursed City
Soul Catcher
Blood Rain
Demon Dawn
Skull Master
Ghoul Night
Witch Wars
THE OCCULT ASSASSIN SERIES
Damnation Code
Apocalypse Soldier
Spirit Breaker
Soul Jacker
THE GARGOYLE KNIGHT SERIES
Gargoyle Knight
Gargoyle Quest
THE SILICON WORLD SERIES
Silicon Dawn
Silicon Man
STAND ALONES
Fear the Light
Match: A Supernatural Thriller
Crossing the Darkness
Crimson Circle Page 12