Made to Suffer (Journeyman Book 3)

by Golden Czermak

  “No! Certainly not!” snapped the auctioneer, having had enough of the circus that had taken over his auction. He grabbed Antoine’s arm and attempted to pull it away from Kahli. “This sale, like all, must be paid in full before you can take possession of the item!”

  Antoine stayed put, Kahli seizing the item from his hand. She studied the worn-down blade, running her fingers over its weathered surface before shutting her eyes. She felt something deep within the encrusted metal and though distant and weak, it confirmed this was the indeed blade she was looking for.

  “You know what the trouble is with humans, Jerome?” she asked, flinging her eyes open toward the auctioneer.

  He remained quiet and still, though did not look at her.

  “And with monsters?” she continued, the tiniest of laughs escaping her lips, “and we can't forget those pesky demons and their counterparts…”

  Jerome didn’t respond, antsy with all this talk of nonsense – monsters, demons, and whatever other fairy tales she was going to pull out of her perky ass.

  She ran the blade’s jagged edge along her palm and lump formed in his throat, making it difficult to swallow. He finally gulped as it cut through her skin like air and blood flowed along the metal, now humming faintly. The dark fluid dripped on the floor – maroon swirling amongst black currents.

  “The problem with all of them,” she emphasized, “is that they believe they’re the only ones playing the game.”

  A searing heat jabbed Jerome’s gut as his scream joined many more from the crowd. He glanced down to find the blade halfway in his torso, following it up her arm all the way to her face, where his eyes met hers at last.

  Those dead pools of vile green were the last thing he ever saw, his body bursting into a plume of dull ash. A shimmering mist was entwined with the particles, crying in fits of agony a thousand times over.

  Everyone else detonated in similar fashion, the swirling fog rushing to fill every corner and crack, even billowing halfway down the empty hall.

  Kahli placed the artifact at her side and glided toward the exit. As she moved, the blade grew shinier, renewed by the essence it reaped from the glowing mists. A fine pattern reminiscent of flowing water revealed itself in the metal, just as the last silver filament was slashed from the ash.

  Kahli reached the hallway, turning one more time to admire the scene. “As for you, brother, I don't know what you're up to,” she said, speaking quietly to the air as the brown motes danced, “but now that I have this, you're going to have to come out and play.” Resuming her trek out of the barren auction house, footsteps again clicked nosily on the tiles.

  When the last sound of high fashion heel against marble finally reached the gallery, the dust stopped moving, frozen in perfect stillness, until falling to the floor with a gentle whoosh.

  THE ODYSSEY TORE through the clouds, the roar of its powerful engines like a storm. Gage and company were in the forecastle, anxiously watching the thick walls of white part ahead of them. The vast, tan desert around the Devil’s Highway faded into view, stretching out in drab glory to the horizon. A few miles from them, a solitary mountain rose out of the ground, ominous and dark amidst the otherwise bright surroundings.

  “Well there it is,” Seth said as he placed a large hand on the window.

  “It's so different from the views back at home,” Kyle mentioned with sadness, joining his brother’s side. “There is so little green here.”

  “That's the way the demons want to see the world,” said Marcus as he walked up to them, Joey not too far behind. “Devoid of life like their black insides, the fires of Hell everywhere. It’s why we have to win.”

  Joey eyed the rocky monolith suspiciously, his eyebrows shifting up and down as he thought. “So, do you all think something’s in there?” he asked. The question was a valid one, as the trip had not yielded any results to this point, the compass unwavering since departing New York City.

  “It’s promising for sure,” Marcus replied. “A big, rocky landmark that we happen to fly directly over? I'd say there's a really good chance. Plus, we are around the Devil’s Highway, though I don't hold much stock in that. Rumors about paranormal activity in the area have been present in the Order for ages, but to date nothing has ever been proven.”

  “Seriously?” Seth asked, finding that hard to believe. “Even we know about this place in from our own remote territories. It’s not like supernatural things don’t exist – you are talking to a bear shifter on a flying boat right now for goodness sake, and last I checked we aren't dreaming.”

  Marcus chuckled. “I know, I know. It sounds silly, but unless our reconnaissance and field operatives have been wrong for literally decades, all paranormal leads from this area end up, for lack of a better term, at a dead-end.”

  Gage lumbered his way up to the group, slapping a hand on Marcus and Joey’s shoulders. “Well regardless gents, we don’t have to wait long. We’ll be passing over the peak in a few minutes.”

  For some reason, their imminent arrival caused unease to fall over the three of them, as if something bad was about to happen. Gage needed some air, the room had gotten a bit stuffy.

  “Hey, I'm gonna catch a breath so let us know the verdict,” he told Marcus before returning to Adrienne. They gave each other a quick kiss before proceeding out onto the deck, Seth and Kyle following a short time later.

  The doors to the forecastle closed gently and Marcus was left alone with Joey.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Joey said to him now that they were alone, grabbing at the gift around his neck. “Now and even when we’re apart.”

  Marcus looked over at him, unable to keep a serious expression on his face. He smiled large as his right arm wrapped itself around Joey’s waist, pulling him a few inches closer. “Me too, always. Like I’ve said before, I wouldn’t change a second of the time I’ve spent with you. Not one bit.”

  The Odyssey had dropped altitude for their passage above Bennett Peak, the rough summit looming ever closer. Marcus stared at it before glancing at the compass held in his other hand.

  “Alright my little friend,” he muttered. “Do your thing and find us a demon trinket.”

  The airship glided over the peak, so close that her keel threatened to graze the hard stone.

  “Om’s cutting this a little close, don’t you think?” Joey prodded.

  Marcus didn’t respond, transfixed on the compass. Did the shard just move? He continued watching and indeed, the crystal began to turn. His heart beat faster in his chest the further they flew over the mountain, the shard spinning in the opposite direction until it had done a complete one-eighty.

  “Holy shit!” Marcus exclaimed. “It’s here!”

  This time it was Joey who didn’t reply, Marcus looking over to him to see what was wrong. His partner was staring straight ahead, mouth open wide and eyes unblinking. Joey raised his left arm, using his hand to push Marcus’ face toward the window.

  A voice came blaring over the comm. “We are under attack!” Om shouted frantically. “We are under attack. Everyone, prepare for battle!”

  What the two of them saw was incredible and terrifying beyond measure. Demonic forces had been unleashed upon them, a battalion of winged beasts coming at them with possessed troops riding their backs.

  “What in the ever loving fuck?” Marcus shouted, racing out of the room. “Joey come on!”

  They both joined up with the rest of the team on the quarterdeck. “You see it?” Marcus asked them all pointedly, anger clearly in his voice.

  “Can't help but see ‘em,” Gage replied much more calmly, “and hear ‘em too.” He wasn't exaggerating, the noise of over five hundred pairs of beating wings, howls, and chants booming through the air.

  “I’m shocked,” Marcus said bluntly. “Literally… I can't even. How the hell are there this many demons here?”

  “And how have they gone undetected for all these years?” Adrienne furthered. “Makes me wonder if there are spies withi
n our own ranks helping the enemy.”

  “Perhaps,” Marcus agreed. “I mean, Fenran had no lasting love for the Order.”

  “As bad as that would be, I wish we had time to find out,” Gage cut himself in. “We can figure this all out later, smokeys are incoming. Om! Is Omega ready?”

  “Yes,” he replied a few seconds later. “I’ve already begun preparations to fire.”

  “Same as in Peru?”

  “Negative,” Om answered. “I have something new up my sleeve that should be able to clear the way. Everyone be ready, just in case any stragglers make it through. They should not be able to set foot on my ship, but if they get close…”

  “We will be ready for them,” Kyle said assertively.

  Seth rubbed his hands eagerly together. “Let’s do this!”

  In an instant they were both on the deck, the sounds of cracking bone accompanying their transformation into their bear forms.

  Joey couldn’t help but let a laugh out as the tattered remains of their outfits blew away in a gust of wind. “You guys must have one hell of a clothes budget,” he joked.

  “Now you know why we aren't too fancy about it,” Seth responded with gusto. Had Joey not known better, he would’ve sworn a smirk was running along Seth’s hairy snout.

  “Remember, team,” Gage said, regarding each of them in turn. “Both the weapon and engines will take a while to recharge after the big gun is fired. Until then, we’ll be at risk, but we have no choice given the shit storm heading this way.”

  There was a rumble as the hull peeled back in lengthy strips, exposing black lines along the entire length of the vessel. Ten total had appeared, five per side, running from stem to stern.

  The front line of the incoming army raced toward the ship, lobbing hundreds of rune stones. They soared through the sky like a hail of arrows, pummeling the shields with bursts of sparks and flame. Another volley tore its way forward, a long fire drake riding alongside the stones as they passed over the sails. Ferried by wyverns, the wingless creature belched a river of magma down on the masts, igniting the fabric and wood in dazzling fashion.

  The Odyssey’s defenses instantly responded in kind, a shimmering ward appearing in the furls of white to freeze the lava in place. The jagged and frozen flames erupted into thousands of sharp fragments, glistening in the light as they were hurled back at the beasts, tearing through their hides with ease.

  “Take that!” Marcus goaded. “You’re going to have to do better!”

  As if hearing the prodding, Omega spooled up into an ear-piercing whine and from within the hull, an intense flash blasted its way out of the strips. Lustrous filaments traced out the shape of an enormous sigil that spanned the entire ship and when it had finished, the whole thing began to spin. Faster and faster it went until the resulting bubble of energy surged out in all directions. The powerful shockwave coursed through the air, plowing indiscriminately into both mountain and army alike. Countless troops were decimated, beasts and riders plummeting to the earth like the rocky debris that had been scoured from the rocks.

  It was an amazing sight, unseen since the War of Heaven, and victory seemed to be at hand. All they had to do now was…

  Everything suddenly went dark, as if a great candle had been extinguished, bursting a short time later into a light brighter than the sun. There was an intense noise like shrieking which crept up everyone’s spines, followed by a impressive boom that scattered the group across the deck.

  He had come.

  Dajjal stood directly on the deck of the ship in his boots as a few surviving soldiers wheeled overhead. Paying no mind to Om’s pithy wards or charms, he flapped his shadow-like wings before stepping forward, feathers falling haphazardly as the wings disappeared. Two lifeless werewolves, still shifted, fell from his loosened grip.

  “There you are!” he said eagerly as the corpses met the deck. Desiccated, they had been mummified by some unknown power.

  “Friends of yours?” Gage asked cynically, though he might have been a little tense.

  “Not really,” Dajjal dismissed, “more like my ticket aboard this rickety old boat.”

  “Well, must say ya have me at a disadvantage,” Gage noted as he heaved himself back up. The jewelry on his hands buzzed, calling out with a voice like a passing murmur in the dark.

  Do not trust the Deceiver, said the Seal.

  “I dunno who you are,” Gage told Dajjal, taking heed of the warning, “but something tells me you’re probably the new guy in town, being able to strut your shit around up here.”

  “Perhaps,” Dajjal rebutted, a subtle smirk confirming he was correct.

  “A Hell Knight?” asked Adrienne, reaching Gage’s side. “Which of the remaining ones are you?”

  Dajjal laughed, his eyes burning brighter from within. “Oh, nothing as lowly as that I’m afraid. You see, those in positions of power before me squandered opportunities and have been… appropriately punished. To many, I am known as Al-Masih ad-Dajjal, but you may simply address me as your Lord.”

  False messiah, whispered the Ring.

  Gage confidently removed his pistol from its holster, letting out a robust chuckle of his own as he pointed it directly at Dajjal’s head. “Yeah, I don’t think so, DJ,” he said, pulling the trigger several times.

  The iron bullets rushed between them and Gage’s left hand began smoking profusely. He raised it up, skinless once again, and focused entirely on keeping Dajjal immobile with the Seal of Solomon’s power.

  Adrienne immediately followed his lead, brandishing an enchanted dagger before chucking it straight at the demonic target.

  The bullets and the dagger converged, poised to enter Dajjal's bald head right as he disappeared. Sparking, the ammunition slammed right against the blade, sending it all to the deck with a resounding clang.

  Gage blinked in disbelief, his left hand swiftly returning to normal. “What the?”

  Adrienne spun in place, searching for him also.

  Dajjal was nowhere to be seen.

  “The Seal can only control lesser demons, Gage!” Marcus shouted from across the way. “If this guy’s a Hell Knight that means he…”

  His words tapered off to silence.

  Dajjal had reappeared no more than two feet away from Joey, causing everyone’s hearts to jump into their throats, none more so than Marcus.

  “Demons: one,” Dajjal gloated hurling his razor toward Gage’s neck. “Humans: zero!”

  The line of silver fast approached, but before it could reach Gage, a force slapped the blade to the ground and it skidded a few feet, stopping just short of his boots.

  Dajjal simply stared, unsure of what had happened.

  Gage folded his arms tightly across his own chest. “That makes us even.”

  So consumed with retaliating against Gage, Dajjal had forgotten about the ring’s power. Unfortunately for him, no harmful magic could be used against Gage, the ring’s power to nullify all enchantments to benefit the bearer made clear. So it was the demon recalled his razor to his hand, looking for the closest person to smite the old fashioned way.

  Poor Joey. He again found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, sliding helplessly across the deck while staring up into Dajjal’s red eyes.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

  “Where do you think you are going?” Dajjal questioned spitefully, slicing the razor across his forearm. It should have been excruciating, but Joey’s face showed no more discomfort than from a paper cut.

  “Get away!” Gage roared. “Get the fuck away from him!”

  Dajjal flicked his eyes over to the Journeyman and sneered as he was joined by Adrienne and Marcus. “No, I will not,” he countered, snapping his fingers with a newly forged smile.

  Nothing happened to Joey. There was no mess, no blood, no screams.

  Dajjal snapped his fingers again to the same result, his smile melting away into a livid snarl.

  The ring again! Dajjal suddenly realized, spying the platinum entwine
d band on Gage’s right hand. This has to be why. It’s much more powerful than I suspected.

  Angered, Dajjal directed it all at Joey, bending down to rip the necklace off his neck. The enchanted wood burned his skin before he tossed it off to the side.

  “Since you have stolen four of my treasures,” Dajjal told Gage with venom, “it's only right that I take one of yours!” He then seized Joey by his thick, sweaty hair, yanking him off the deck without warning. Rearing back a fist, he knocked the shit out of his face the old fashioned way, again and again until it was bruised and bleeding. The very last punch sent Joey flying back to the floor with a loud thud. A collection of fine hairs fell from Dajjal's hand, fluttering gently as they peppered Joey’s unconscious body.

  Kyle bounded toward Dajjal, a massive paw swiping across the demon’s chest while forcing him down to the deck beside Joey’s body. The beast looped around, readying for a second run.

  “We are done here, for now,” Dajjal spat. Crouching, he slapped a hand to the center of Joey’s back, observing his nemesis one last time with those fiery red eyes.

  Gage stared back with his own intense greens, watching as a bright flare enveloped the two of them and an instant later, they had disappeared. Thunder boomed across the entire sky, so loud yet pale in comparison to the insufferable beating in the team’s collective chests.

  Joey. Was. Gone.

  Gage didn’t have time to collect his thoughts, no matter how much he needed to. Hearing the shrill cries of more horrific beasts and their demon-possessed riders, he hesitantly looked out, met by a another black cloud of death coming their way. It was a second wave, similar to the first, with countless monsters swarming down upon them.

  Gage realized that he was armed with four of the most powerful weapons the worlds had ever seen. A power built up inside him as he grabbed the Ire by its shackles, the chain held tightly between his clenched fists as the seal and ring sparkled in their own unique ways. Yet all of this power, just like in Denver, was useless against the enemy ahead. Their numbers were far too great and there was no way the artifacts, the ship’s weapons, or their combined skill could get them out of this situation alive.