The phone buzzed “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” by Bobby McFerrin.
“10 A.M., bet you’re having fun,” Lucifer teased.
“Yeah, real fun. I was going to let him go, you know that?” Azazel said.
Lucifer laughed, “Of course I know. I couldn’t allow that to happen, though.”
“Why not?”
“You’d have a permanent target on your back. While that organization isn’t remotely strong in your town, a few old-timer connections remain and a few leftover debts have yet to be paid. Bob would’ve used these associations to turn what little life you’d have after today into a living hell.”
“You actually think I’m gonna survive today?”
“Of course, Azazel, you have a great chance of surviving. You’ve performed exceptionally well thus far, and I really hope that you’ll see this through. So anyway, get to 180 East North Street. I have a surprise waiting.” Lucifer hung up.
“Great, another surprise.” Azazel cringed.
This particular address was an old Sears-Roebuck building near the apartment pedophile Uncle Frank lived in. Azazel didn’t like the idea of approaching an area he had been near recently, but he wasn’t too worried about witnesses due to the timing and who it was that got killed. In fact, this address was no more than two blocks away, and the apartment had been crime scene taped off, but no officers were nearby due to the havoc in the surrounding areas.
Parking a block away, Azazel received the call from Lucifer. “Now that you are here, go inside the building through the back door and find the present. You are going to like this one!” Click.
Azazel shook his head. He cautiously made his way to the old derelict store and casually strolled through the unlocked entrance. As the door closed behind him, that cold feeling struck once again, but he calmed himself by saying, “This is nothing but a game. No need to be nervous. He’s just toying with you.”
A muffled noise originated from the next floor. He climbed the creaking stairs towards the source, which stopped as soon as the first stair groaned. Each metal stair spoke in its own way, sabotaging Azazel’s stealth, but he continued warily. He opened the first office and found nothing. Second room, the same thing. The third contained the reward, when he cautiously opened the door and found a woman tied up, her head covered with a hood.
Azazel stopped, wondering if he should help the woman or wait for further instructions from Lucifer. “Are you ok?” He asked.
The woman sat silently for a moment, then asked, “Who are you and why am I here? Tell me please, I haven’t done anything!” Her voice was slightly hysterical.
Azazel waited a few more seconds, hoping Lucifer would give some sort of direction as to how to handle this situation. “I am Azazel and I’ve been stuck in this dreaded game.”
“Azazel?” She began laughing. “You mean the demon? What have I gotten myself into? Could you please remove this hood, at least? Demons don’t exist.”
“Are you so sure? I think I’m in the middle of a game with one right now.” Azazel walked over and did as she requested. Her face was familiar, but he wasn’t clear who she was. “Why do I recognize you?”
The girl waited for her eyes to adjust. Bright sunlight penetrated through the spotty, dust covered windows, “You look very familiar. I think I know. Do you know Lori?”
Azazel was afraid to ask, but he did so anyway. “What is your name?”
“Alana. You are…Uncle…Tommy or something like that.”
He laughed, “Uncle? Is that who Lori said I was?”
“Yeah, I saw you a couple times when I was younger. What’s really going on?”
“All my sins are coming back to haunt me today. And…” Azazel thought twice about letting the information out that she was actually his daughter. Then it dawned on him, regardless of whether he told her now or later, all truths in his life were being revealed. Instead of procrastinating, he let it out. “And Alana, I found out just a few hours ago that I am actually your father.”
She stared blankly at first then began laughing, “You, my father? Ha!”
“That’s what the psycho that’s been following told me, and that psycho knows everything.”
“Do you have any idea who it is?”
“I was about to ask you the same question. Did you see him before you were kidnapped?”
“No, sorry. I was in my bed last night, and then I woke up in this chair. I didn’t see anything.”
“Well, let me untie you.” The phone rang, and Azazel hesitated as he attempted to loosen the bondage. On the third ring, he answered, “Yes?”
“I’m happy you told the truth immediately. It tells me that your day from now on will be relatively smooth. Lies get in the way of everything. Now, say goodbye to Alana for the time being. You’ll see her after today’s over.”
The phone went dead and the door slammed behind. Azazel felt a pinch to his left butt cheek. He looked down to see a small dart stuck in.
“Shit.”
“What is it?” Alana asked.
“It was nice officially meeting you, Alana. I’ll see you after this is all over. Hopefully then, we can actually talk.” The woozy spell kicked in almost immediately and Azazel dropped to the ground.
11 A.M.: James Billings
The radio alarm was playing Johnny Cash’s “Cocaine Blues”, one of Azazel’s favorite songs. Unfortunately, Azazel wasn’t in the proper mood to enjoy it. A headache rivaling the one from the wee morning hours raged in full force, and he realized he was at his own house.
The phone rang. Azazel looked at it, not wanting to deal with anything until he properly woke up. After six rings, he finally answered, “Yeah?”
“I’ll give you fifteen minutes to rouse from that cat nap. On your dining room table is a tonic that might help with the nasty side effects of that fast-acting sedative, and while you’re at it, take that shot of cocaine.” Click.
Azazel laughed, but that made his head hurt. This was like a hangover without the nausea. He went into the dining room and found the drink next to a brand new Smith & Wesson .38 Special Revolver. He chugged it down, and was pleasantly surprised by the tropical smoothie taste. As for the cocaine, Azazel hadn’t done the nose candy in nearly ten years, and he remembered nothing good ever came of its use. Regardless, today was the day for exceptions, and he knew the sort of focus he’d achieve, so he rolled up a dollar and snorted the substance up.
The phone rang again fifteen minutes later. “Feeling better?” Lucifer asked.
“Yeah, although a little high strung. I hope you have rehab lined up for me at the end of today.” Azazel was half-joking.
“You’ll be fine,” Lucifer consoled. “Now make your way to 311 North Kinzie Avenue.”
“Any other information you’d like to give me before arrival?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. You remember from earlier the bank that you had the pleasure of removing from circulation? Well, there happens to be one particular gentleman who was in charge of the institution. Although he was quite easy to find, I wanted to make this daytime escape a little easier for you.”
“Aww, how kind.”
“Let me be clear, this isn’t a robbery. This man is who made your cash disappear. I want you to make him disappear.”
“So this is a kidnapping?”
“Certainly! I’m glad you’re catching on. Please don’t feel bad for what you’re about to do. Trust me when I say he has been quite easy-going with his patrons’ funds.”
“I’m feeling uneasy about this.”
“Don’t worry, check your front shirt pocket.”
Azazel searched and found a small device. “What is this?”
“Just think of it as a magic cloak. I like to call it Ether Camouflage. No recording devices will register your presence with accuracy as long as it’s on you.”
“What kind of technology is it?”
“Don’t worry about that. That’s an in-depth discussion you’re not ready for yet. Just know it
has been tested thoroughly and as long as it’s in your possession, your image will appear as nothing but a blurry mess. And don’t forget to grab the gun. Good luck.”
Azazel analyzed the strange device, slightly larger than a flash drive but similar in structure. He then slid it in his front pants pocket for safe keeping. He walked outside to find the Lexus in front of his house waiting for him. As he made his way towards the second bank of the day, his thoughts drifted to what happened to Alana after seeing her. Azazel couldn’t believe he never put two and two together.
Arriving at the second Sinai City Bank, Azazel sat in his car, cold sweating. The cocaine became an encourager, making direct action so much easier. This was the third Sinai bank in the immediate area, but the other one was demolished alongside the one he assisted with. Azazel flashed back to the Zadkiel Clock Tower private show, and the dual explosions. Without allowing himself a moment to consider turning back, he walked straight through the front doors. A text came through. “James Billings is your target. Look in the back office.”
Azazel pulled his hat down slightly to avoid any coincidental contact with someone who might recognize him. All the other representatives were busy assisting customers, so he felt lucky. He strolled into James’s office, looked at the man who had stolen from him and said, “You’re leaving early for lunch.”
James laughed, “Sure, what can I do for you?”
Azazel pulled out the .38 Special, “Look, we can either do this the easy way, or the hard way. I prefer to keep things on the down-low, but I’ve had an incredibly shitty day so far, and killing you would be a minor blip on my radar. Plus, I’d hate to panic all your co-workers and customers. Please, will you come with me now?”
Fearfully, James nodded, “Let me just give them a heads up. They’re busy at the counter.”
James did as he said and didn’t signal for help. They walked out together and got in the car. Azazel wasn’t exactly sure what was supposed to be done.
“Well?” James asked. “Are we going somewhere?”
The phone rang. “Put me on speaker,” Lucifer commanded. “Now James, how many lives have your greedy paws infected? According to my records, you acquired hundreds of thousands of dollars from mortgages, not to mention direct theft covered up by paperwork indicating default on loans causing fees accrued. Do you know what this does to the average person? Do you have a clue?”
“This is some sort of joke, right?” James’s face went cold.
“Azazel, go east on North Street. I’ll text you when to stop.” Click.
“Shit.” Azazel felt very uneasy about this one. He didn’t have any real connection to James, unlike the others. This was more like a vague acquaintance.
“So, I suppose something terrible is going to happen to me,” James stated calmly.
“I suppose so. I don’t know what Lucifer has planned.”
“Lucifer? You’re fucking with me, right?”
“I wish. I’m only following his directions to keep my children safe. He told me something about letting my skeletons out of the closet.”
“I don’t suppose you’re the one who bombed my other branches this morning?”
Azazel laughed, “At least you’re intelligent enough to know what’s up.”
The text came through and he read it as the Lexus had just started picking up speed down North Street, reaching the outskirts of the city. “Put your seat belt on.”
Azazel shook his head, wondering how Lucifer knew, but did as commanded. James noticed and moved to pull on his seat belt, but it wasn’t there.
“What the fuck?” James tried to open the door, even though they were going 50 MPH, but it was locked.
“I’m sorry. It’s out of my control,” Azazel said.
The Lexus began speeding up, reaching 100 mph without Azazel’s foot on the gas pedal.
“Quit playing! What the hell are you doing, man?”
“Look, my foot isn’t even on the gas!”
Azazel’s heart rate raced faster than the vehicle. James tried to grab the wheel, and Azazel didn’t even fight. At 120, the wheel jerked despite James’s greatest effort and the Lexus veered to the right, slamming into a tree. Azazel saw James’s body fly out of the windshield and fly through the air. A moment later, he blacked out.
12 P.M.: Kushiel
Azazel woke to The Gorillaz “Clint Eastwood”, in his bed. Thinking that he should’ve been severely injured from that accident, he checked himself over, but only the residual bruising from the midnight crash remained. He walked out to the living room and found the phone. Azazel’s partially consumed glass of gin from last night was still sitting next to his chair.
The familiar ring tone sounded. “Make your way to Kushiel State Mental Hospital in Abel Township.”
“Wait, what happened? How did I not get hurt?”
“Don’t worry about that. If you make it out today, I’ll let you know everything. Now go. It’s a little bit of a drive.”
Azazel pleaded, “No wait, I gotta know what the fuck just occurred. That wasn’t natural!”
“New keys are on your dining room table.” Click.
Azazel shook his head when he saw the emblem on the key, a Jaguar. He always wanted one, so he ran outside and found a beautiful white F-Type waiting. Upon entering the vehicle, he analyzed the higher end details, but was cut short by the melody of nearby sirens. It only took seconds to realize they were heading to his house. He scooted up the block and watched as the two-story home was surrounded by police vehicles. Happiness and anger made for a strange combination as he wanted to find out if Lucifer tipped the investigators off or if someone else pointed him out. He also was deeply confused by the accident.
The drive to Abel provided too much down time for Azazel to avoid pondering the possibilities. Kushiel was a long standing asylum that endured numerous rumors of tortures that the residents endured. A lack of government funds helped lead to the complex’s shutdown during the 1980’s.
Azazel reached the outside of the campus just as Lucifer called. “Make your way to 455 North Grove Street. Find a way inside and look for the box marked Azazel.” Click.
It was midday, and Azazel was worried about being seen entering the abandoned property as he imagined prying eyes might be everywhere. Approaching the building, he realized this was a quiet and reclusive place. No one inhabited the area for blocks around, and even the nearby residential areas were sparsely populated.
Azazel found a window with busted glass and slid his way in, careful not to cut his hands. He explored the factory-style building, noticing certain sections were apparently set on fire. This was far from the concept of a “mental hospital” that he had always imagined, but there were so many other structures on the campus. His imagination ran wild with ideas of ghosts still inhabiting the corridors, just like at the cemetery. It was one of the few fears that had stayed with him since childhood.
The box Azazel was supposed to discover was nowhere to be found, but Lucifer didn’t provide extra clues, so he began exploring further. A set of stairs descending into a basement invited him down into the darkness. Knowing that he searched every section of the building’s upper levels, he had few choices remaining. A series of tunnels opened up, stretching for what seemed to be miles. The fear of getting lost was strong.
“Good afternoon, Azazel.” A strong male voice sounded from behind him.
Azazel turned around but found no one. “Is this some sort of joke?”
“No.” The voice seemed to come from all directions.
Shivers ran up Azazel’s spine, fearing the haunted tales to be true. “What do you want?” he asked.
A box slid towards Azazel from behind and he jumped. “Mother fucker! You scared the shit out of me!”
“It’s nice to meet you in person,” the mysterious entity said.
“Lucifer?”
Azazel tried allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness he was peering into, and just as he thought he could see the outline of a p
erson, it shot out towards him, then flew towards the hallway and up the stairs. Azazel tried to follow, but it was gone before he ascended to the ground level.
“What the fuck!” Azazel laughed to himself. “No way there’s ghosts. I don’t fucking believe it!”
He returned to the box and found a bunch of photographs, documents, and shockingly, the items that were inside the safe that he collected earlier. The gold, bonds, and cash were all there. A note was left on the inside of the box’s lid stating, “Leave these contents here for safe keeping. Take a look through the documents, and pick the activity to perform next. Come back later for the others.”
Azazel looked through the articles, noticing a trend that had been prominent throughout the day. Most headlines were familiar to him, sometimes vaguely. He knew many of the people associated, as well as why the activities were investigated. Some of the articles were from the people he interacted with earlier, while others were yet to be connected.
Azazel spent the rest of the hour picking out one from the bunch, the one that seemed the simplest, although he doubted anything would be ever be simple again.
1 P.M.: Chet Amore
Phone rang with a stock ringtone. “So, what have you chosen?” Lucifer asked.
“Yeah, I picked one I’m slightly unfamiliar with. The Plutus Space Center. Isn’t that like something operated by NASA?”
Lucifer laughed, “Think more literally. What would a large holding area have plenty of?”
“A large area…ummm…space.” It dawned on Azazel. “It’s a storage facility. It has lots of space. Holy shit, I’ve always had the wrong impression.” That’s when Azazel realized why the location was within Azazel’s radar. “I’m going after Chet, ain’t I?”
“Bingo.” Click.
Chet Amore was Azazel’s colleague at a previous factory job where they built industrial machines large enough to drill and cut I-beams and thick steel plates. Chet received repeated promotions while Azazel stayed in place. He didn’t realize at the time that Chet took credit for everything Azazel had done, including rearranging the hardware inventory system to become more efficient. It infuriated Azazel when the boss laid him off just when he needed the job most.
The Djinn Trials: Azazel Page 7