The Djinn Trials: Azazel
Page 6
“You stabbed me in the back after Charles did what he did. You literally stabbed me in the back. I would’ve forgiven you if it was just a con and my material possessions were stolen, but I haven’t been able to run the same since. I still feel the pain of that knife sometimes.”
“Never trust a con artist,” Marilyn said woefully. Her eyes sank, then quietly asked, “Today is judgment day, isn’t it?”
“Apparently.” Azazel stared at his phone, waiting for Lucifer to chime in.
Minutes passed, and without confirmation or denial of his actions, Azazel returned the phone to his pocket and pulled out the dagger. It was the same one that Marilyn used on him. He stared at the blade, still baffled by the ability Lucifer had to acquire items long thought lost. He ran his fingers along the ridge, wondering if his blood remained in the creases.
“How in the hell did you get my blade?” Marilyn asked.
Azazel looked up. “You kept this?”
“I kept everything that was unsellable. I knew it was risky to hold onto, but it reminded me of times past.”
“So, how many people did you fuck over? How many cons? How many lives did you help destroy?”
“Oh look at you, becoming all self-righteous. How dare you condemn me when you were no better. You stole just like I did, only you did it when no one was watching. The only difference between me and you is that I had the balls to steal in front of my prey’s faces.”
“Honor amongst thieves, you ever heard of that?”
“Do you remember the little conversation with Charles? It occurred the night before.”
“No.”
“Well, you were quite drunk, and it’s part of the reason why Charles and I turned on you. In your shit-faced confession, you said you were leaving us, taking all the goods, and calling the cops if we tried to come near your family.”
“You’re lying. I never said that.”
“Just ask Charles.” Marilyn pleaded.
“I can’t. I just found his head in a safe.”
“You what?”
“Whoever has me doing this game knows everything about me, like he’s been spying on my whole life. He knows things I never imagined…”
The phone interrupted Azazel. “She was telling the truth, sort of.” Lucifer said.
Azazel looked around the room. “How the fuck do you know what she said?”
“Oh, come on. I have her tied up and you expect me not to know what’s going on? Give me a little more credit.” Lucifer responded. “Ask her about your wife, the day after your anniversary. Remember the dirty looks Lori used to give? Remember when she stopped letting you touch her? Oh yes, and ask her about the connection with Duke, your lawyer. If you haven’t noticed yet, they’re both named Valefar.”
Azazel dropped the phone, and slowly lifted his eyes towards Marilyn, “What did you say to my wife?”
Marilyn looked terrified. “Nothing! I didn’t say anything to her.”
“Quit lying!” Azazel yelled, “Quit fucking lying right now! I want to know what you said to her.”
“Look into the packet,” Lucifer said from the phone sitting on the floor with the speaker announcing the message loud enough for all to hear.
Azazel dug into the envelope and found two pictures. “What is this?”
He placed the first photo in front of Marilyn. She couldn’t say anything. It showed her with a cell phone playing a video. The screen wasn’t clear, but the facial expression on Lori was.
“What did you show her?”
Marilyn’s face went white with fear. “I videotaped us.”
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“I needed to separate you from her.”
Azazel’s eyes wetted as he pulled the other photo out. It showed Marilyn meeting with the manager of the bank and alongside the lawyer that destroyed Azazel’s credibility. Between the two of them, they created a situation that ruined Azazel down to the core. The whole reason Azazel was in such a monetary bind, and thus a major depression brought on by that financial strain, was because of Marilyn the Vengeful.
“Who is this man to you?”
She looked away. “Duke was my husband.”
“You and your husband ruined me,” Azazel said calmly, masking the intense anger.
“I don’t suppose saying I’m sorry would help, would it?” Fear was clearly in Marilyn’s voice. “There isn’t any way out, is there? No room for forgiveness.”
Azazel shook his head. “Your betrayal has no room for forgiveness.”
“Well then, let me tell you something before I die. Do you remember that day that we did the Wormwood Manor job? Remember the items we retrieved?”
“Yes. The shards of the Apsinthos meteorite discovered in Scandinavia.”
“Good. Do me a favor. When this day ends, go to locker 777 at the Cain City Bowling Alley.”
“Did you leave the rocks in there?”
“That’s up to you to find out.”
“It’s not in her character to change her ways,” Lucifer said from the phone as it hung up.
Azazel thought about Lucifer’s warning, tormenting over what to do.
“He’s right,” Marilyn said. “I’ll never change. I can come up with some bullshit, but at the end of the day, I’ll still be who I am.”
“Did you just give up? I don’t get you.”
“Yes, well, you’re not the only one to have the truth come out today. Your friend Lucifer has some interesting tactics, some methods of revealing what lies behind the surface. He did this to me, and I almost can’t forgive myself for the things I’ve done, not just to you, but to many others. Just do me a favor and make it quick.”
“May god forgive us. Goodbye, my dear.”
He walked over, gently kissed Marilyn’s forehead, and he slit her throat, letting her bleed out. Azazel turned away and a couple of tears rolled down his face from the bloodcurdling coming from Marilyn’s mouth. Azazel scooped up the phone then walked away with his eyes closed and he left the apartment, closing the door behind him.
“What a waste,” Azazel whispered to himself, thinking of the beautiful woman who had conned him out of so much. He thought about their past, how brief it was.
9 A.M.: Bob Symons
The phone buzzed right on time with “Woke Up This Morning” From Alabama 3.
“Was that the Sopranos theme song?” Azazel asked about the familiar song choice. The show was one of his favorites, although he was disappointed by the finale.
“Perhaps,” Lucifer replied. “Hey Azazel, I’m sorry you had to waste such a beautiful specimen, but she wasn’t even worth keeping around. She was a beauty, but beneath the surface, she was a treacherous succubus, worse than even you witnessed. I’d say that she has finagled at least a hundred people’s life savings.”
“It is a shame. It’s crazy to think how horrible people exist like her. No conscience.” Azazel realized he was beginning to condemn himself and stopped talking.
“You’re nothing like her, trust me.” Lucifer oddly consoled. “Morality is a strange thing, but in my eyes, what she did and how you worked were two distant cousins. She gained the trust of her marks just to betray them. You merely avoided their detection. In my eyes, betrayal is the worst sin. It can destroy your trust in humanity.”
“You have a point.”
“Anyway, you are more than a third of the way through the day. How do you feel?”
“My head hurts, my body hurts, my hands are shredded, I’ve seen more death today than ever before, and my kids are still with you. How do you think I feel?”
“I would say that you are having a grand day. It is definitely one to remember, something that hasn’t happened in years, thanks to alcoholism. Now make your way to 2283 Bittersweet Drive. I know you’ll remember this place well.” Lucifer hung up.
2283 Bittersweet Drive was The Cain Elks Country Club, a golf course previously owned by Azazel’s deceased father, and was now owned by a schmuck named Bob Symons. Azazel had
absolutely nothing to do with the business. Golf never held his interest and he neither shared nor understood his father’s passion.
Sitting in the Lexus, Azazel waited for Lucifer’s next call, wondering what could be on the agenda. Five minutes passed and the call finally came in. “Ok, Azazel, the golf course hasn’t opened yet. In a few minutes, Bob Symons will show up. I want you to ask him politely to come with you. Tell him you need a few business questions answered, and I’ll call once you have him there. Oh yeah, there is a small bottle of chloroform in your console. Be careful with it because I don’t want you to knock yourself out.” Lucifer hung up.
It was after the top of the hour, and Azazel wondered how long it would take for Bob to show up. Ten minutes passed before Bob arrived, driving an identical vehicle Azazel was. A few customers had already gathered as the club was supposed to open at 9:30.
“Hey Bob, nice car,” Azazel said with a smile.
A somewhat short, overweight, balding man, Bob turned around after chirping the car alarm, “Hey Thomas, how’re you doing? From the looks of it, not too shabby.” He laughed, impressed with the make of the car.
“Yeah, well, may I speak with you for a moment?” Azazel asked firmly.
“Well, I was just about to let these customers in because I’m running a little late. Can it wait for a moment?” Bob replied.
“I’m afraid it is very important. It’ll only take a few moments of your time,” Azazel persuaded.
Bob nodded and entered the car. Azazel wasted no time with the chloroform and Bob struggled and punched until he lost consciousness. Azazel was grateful for the dark tinted windows of the Lexus. The fumes made Azazel dizzy, so he turned the vents on and rolled down the back windows.
The call came in. “He killed your father so he could get the business.”
“Bullshit, my father died of a heart attack!” Azazel spit back.
“Yes, well Bob decided to give him a sedative called succinylcholine, which is nearly undetectable in an autopsy and paralyzes the body. I don’t have time to get too far into the details, but you might want to watch out. Some of the customers are approaching your car. Drive to Hala Park and throw his ass into one of the pig farmer’s pens,” Lucifer commanded.
“Isn’t that going to arouse suspicion? I mean, these customers know the car I am driving.”
“Yes, but they’ll get it confused with the owner’s car. It’s the exact same model and plates. There is a switch inside the glove compartment to change the plates for you. You have three sets, and right now one that matches Bob’s Lexus are showing. Now go before they reach you. I just hope you’re not too dizzy from that fluid.” Click.
Azazel rolled up the back window, and drove calmly out of the parking lot as normally as he could. He navigated towards Hala Park, a bumpkin village on the far outskirts of Cain. It was a good fifteen minute drive, and Azazel rolled down the windows due to the sweet smelling chloroform’s dizzying effect. The deserted roads leading to the village gave Azazel some difficulty maintaining consciousness, and he realized he should’ve tossed the rag out the window. To his relief, a text indicated which farm to enter as the brief drive felt like a two hour crawl. Bob remained knocked out.
Azazel exited the vehicle and received another text message. “Tie him up and use the amyl nitrate inside the vial in the glove compartment to wake him. Ask any question you’d like, then throw him into the pig pen. Don’t worry about the owners of the farm.”
Azazel shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.” He scanned the farm for his own sense of security. A cold feeling crept through his body as he opened the passenger door and tied Bob with knots he knew the tubby man couldn’t slip. He fetched the vial of amyl nitrate and used it to wake Bob, then gave himself a whiff, and the coldness inside instantly went away.
“All right Bob, I need some answers and if you’re not completely honest with me, you are going into the pig pen. Do you understand?”
Bob’s eyes grew large as he examined the area, realizing no one else was around. He nodded and started to sweat.
“Good. I really only have one main question, but that may lead to other questions. How did my dad die?”
Bob’s mouth cracked open, but nothing came out.
“Did you kill my father, Bob?” Azazel grew a little more assertive.
Bob shook his head and his mouth appeared to make words although nothing was coming out.
“Bob, answer the question!”
“No, I didn’t! He had a heart attack. Ask the coroners!” Bob lied.
“Oh, wrong answer.” Azazel picked Chubs up from the ground with all of his strength and approached the feeding area. Azazel was pissed, but at the moment he reached the edge, Bob spoke up.
“I did it! I did it! I killed him. He threatened me and I killed him!” Bob confessed. “I’m sorry Thomas, I truly am.”
Azazel set Bob down and stared him dead in the eyes. “Why?”
“Your father, Benjamin, said that if I didn’t give him my portion of the business, he was going to kill me,” Bob said. “He threatened me over and over and I couldn’t understand it because he used to be such a good guy. Just one day he came into work and his attitude had changed, I don’t know what caused it. I found out later that he had taken out a deal with some loan shark to pay off some of his gambling debts.”
Azazel blankly nodded, calming down. “I do remember hearing something about that.”
“Well, your father was trying to give the golf course to the shylock. He couldn’t transfer it without my affirmation, and I’ve worked too long and hard to just give it away.”
Azazel recollected. “Yeah, I remember that place was your very own. You let my father in as a partner so you could expand some services.”
“Yes, well one day, that swindler, who turned out to be a member of the mob, came in and asked me where your father was.” Bob continued, “The guy had a gun with him and explained what your father had gotten himself into. I was shocked, and didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go to the police because you know how they work.”
“So you ended up murdering my father rather than getting killed or turning over the business?” Azazel asked.
“Yes. I tried to be very careful about it, making it look like a heart attack, but it always felt like someone was watching. I Nothing ever confirmed that feeling, but you know how it is.”
“Yeah, I really do. I’m in the same predicament right now. I have a feeling that you won’t be able to go free no matter what.”
“What do you mean, Tom?” Bob appeared afraid.
The phone rang at that moment, and Azazel glared at Bob, “Run!” Azazel yelled.
Bob screamed, “Mother fucker, you tied my legs up, I can’t!”
Azazel answered the phone. “You better get away from Bob real quick,” Lucifer said.
Azazel begged, “No, don’t do anything!”
“Guess what, he lied to you.” Lucifer instigated.
“Bullshit. He confessed and told me exactly what happened.”
“Did he now? Why don’t you ask him who the goon was?”
“What do you mean?” Azazel was confused.
“Just ask.” Lucifer hung up.
Azazel turned to Bob, “Who was the mob member?”
“Huh?” Bob acted as if he didn’t understand the question.
“W-h-o w-a-s t-h-e m-o-b m-e-m-b-e-r?” Azazel slowly repeated.
“I don’t know. Just some guy.”
Azazel closed his eyes. “Don’t bullshit me Bob. Tell me the truth. The mother fucker that’s watching me knows everything.”
Under his breath, Bob said, “He was my brother.” He closed his eyes and continued, “I had my brother push him into gambling, then threaten him.”
The phone vibrated with a new text message. “Drive away.”
Azazel looked up at Bob who was scared to death. “Sorry, Bob, I gotta go.” He ran to the Lexus and vacated down the long the driveway, leaving Bob tie
d up.
Bob was screaming at him with everything he had, “Don’t leave me like this!”
Azazel stopped the car, and looked back through the rearview mirror. Just as Azazel had a moment of regret for leaving Bob defenseless, a loud bang made him jump. Bob’s head exploded like a watermelon.
A text read, “Place Bob in the pig pen and slit his gut open. Also remove the ropes. The pigs will have a hard time chewing through those.”
Stunned, Azazel sat in his car for a moment, realizing he had just seen someone’s head blown clean off with a high powered rifle. Now he had to do the clean-up.
“Fucking hell…” he said to himself as doing what was commanded. “Fucking disgusting…”
The hogs were quick to snack on the new carcass. They had no concern about this being human meat, and it made Azazel queasy just thinking of the fact that these pigs would soon become food for other humans. The train of thought continued into wonder about how often this occurs. How many times have victims of such organizations disappeared this way, soon to be fed back to the masses? If there were ever a time Azazel thought about becoming a vegetarian, this was it.
Covered in blood, Azazel desperately needed a new set of clothes. And just as if Lucifer were in his head, the phone buzzed and a new text appeared, “Grab your new apparel from the front porch. Torch the items you’re wearing at the moment. Afterwards, untie the kind folks inside the house. If they’re awake when you go inside, give them another hit of the chloroform.”
“Impossible,” Azazel said to himself and shook his head. “Just impossible.” Could it be that Lucifer was reading his thoughts, or was he just that good?
10 A.M.: Alana
Azazel sat outside a carwash just inside the Cain city limits with a blank stare on his face. Although he knew Bob had been too far away for any fragments to land on the Lexus, he still wanted to run it through one time just for his own sanity. He washed the vehicle as sirens wailed by, emergency vehicles headed towards the location of Marilyn’s slaying. Azazel laughed at the thought of what the police must be thinking. It surprised him how fast they responded to her murder, but then again, Azazel couldn’t remember if he left the apartment door open.