CONTENTS
Part One: Sword in the Sand
Part Two: Aster and Archen
Part Three: Captives and Criminals
Part Four: Conversation With Satan
Part Five: A Devil’s Workday
Part Six: Demons Invade
Part Seven: Satan’s Dream
About the Author
Part One: Sword in the Sand
“Commander Aster!” the soldier cried, “we’re too far out! We should go back!” It was no use. Aster couldn’t hear his men anymore. The soldier’s cries were drowned out by the gale sandstorm and Aster’s own shouts of anguish. One by one, the Commander tore through his foes with absolutely no compassion. After all, they were only demons.
The number one rule in Hell was kill or be killed. At least for the demons that seemed to be the case. Devils were different though. Unlike the savage demons, devils were people. The descendants of Lucifer Satan’s rebellious angels cast down from Heaven to the sunless bowels of Hell, the devils were actually very similar to the angels. Of course, there were a few key differences between the races.
Commander Aster stood tall, broad-shouldered and swinging his thick broadsword. His many years of learned swordplay tactics no longer in use, he was now relying on what remaining strength he had to mercilessly cut through his foes in a fashion similar to swinging a baseball bat. The sword was damn heavy, too. Weighing in at nearly 100 pounds, it’d be a feat for a human to even lift it, much less use it in combat. And yet, Aster swung it with angry ease.
Though his body was physically nearing its limit he refused to stop. Not yet. Not after what those God-forsaken demons did. The devils never meant them any harm, and yet the demons would never stop attacking them. Savage creatures, incapable of being reasoned with, they desired only one thing: food. The devils would never see a peaceful day, not while the demons roamed free. After their last invasion, Aster had had enough.
That was the reason why he led his team far out into the desert. He knew his men shouldn’t be out that far, but as his rage had not yet subsided and the enemies kept coming, he saw no reason to retreat just yet. As he hacked and slashed still more foes, he frantically scoured the desert landscape. There was something out there, something he needed to see. It became his entire reason for being there.
“Commander! Please!” the unknown soldier shouted again more frantically this time. He was trying his best to fend off several lesser demons, which under usual circumstances wouldn’t pose too much of a threat. However, as they were no longer within the safety of the city walls, they were deep in enemy territory. The demons had vastly superior numbers.
The soldier plunged his (much smaller) sword into another demon, only to have it get stuck in the monster’s belly. The demon reared back and fell over dead, it’s soul floating freely away into the night. The sword was still trapped in its carcass.
Luckily, devils have a particularly amazing and efficient natural self-defense. Stripped of their protective Holy Light, the first batch of devils to arrive in Hell had to come up with a new means of survival, and quickly. Taking their mastery of soul power to the next level, they invented the Devil Flame.
Some devils were quite skilled at it and could launch devastatingly powerful flame-based attacks. Others, like the soldier currently fighting for his life, were adequate at best. This was also the reason why he was equipped with a sword. He used his flame the best he could, launching small fireballs at the invading demons, but was eventually overwhelmed by his opponents. He held as large a flame as he could muster in his hand, and made one last desperate call to his Commander.
“Sir! We’re surrounded! They’re not stopping!” he shouted.
“You and the others return to the city!” Aster called to him, launching a fireball at a demon that’d had the nerve to attempt an escape. This had become his suicide mission, and dragging his men into it was unfair to them. As the whipping sands momentarily died down, Aster could at long last see the landmark he’d been searching for: a sword, stuck blade-first in the sand. The sight nearly brought a tear to his eye. He needed to get closer. That was exactly what he had intended to do, until he got a very real wake-up call.
“The other men are dead, sir,” the soldier told him. Aster took a moment to actually look around him at the chaos he had orchestrated. Besides the hundreds of dead demons lying at his feet, he saw some familiar faces: The faces of several of his own men. Good soldiers, each and every one of them. Always loyal, always following orders. His comrades. They had families. They had died because their Commander hadn’t had the sense to see they were in danger. He looked at the one remaining soldier, still scared and fighting for his life. It became painfully clear they had to turn back at once.
Aster took one last fleeting glance at the sword in the sand, before the storm winds kicked back up and obscured the area around them.
Igniting an enormous fireball in his hand, he launched it at the demon that was about to bite down on the last remaining soldier. The fireball collided with the demon’s head, exploding it to bits. The soldier, who’s eyes had been closed tightly in fear of imminent death, slowly opened his eyes. After getting a good look at the demon carcass on the ground with a crater for its head, the soldier turned to see his Commander.
“We’re retreating,” Aster said.
The soldier was very relieved to hear that.
Part Two: Aster and Archen
Their retreat back to the safety of the Kingdom of Hell was not an easy one. It was a dangerous and time-consuming withdrawal in which they were still pursued by the demons. Once back at the city walls, however, they were provided cover-fire from the guards stationed at the wall there. They entered through the South Section of the city.
The Kingdom of Hell was split into four sections: North, South, East and West. In the middle of the cities laid the Royal Castle: home of King Satan. Despite what images that name might imply to a human, Satan was actually a very kind man and beloved ruler of the devils. The solider that had accompanied Aster on his frenzied suicide mission to the desert was dismissed, and returned to his post in the South Section’s barracks. Aster had to report back to the main barracks located at the castle.
As Commander of the Royal Guard, the only “police force” in Hell, Aster was constantly busy. It was a huge change for him as up until a few months ago he was only a Captain. The four Captains each presided over their designated section of the City, with the Commander giving them their orders. Aster’s promotion was unwanted, however, as the last viscous demon attack left them without a Commander. They were understaffed and had been dealt a crippling blow, and Aster just so happened to be the #2 choice for a Commander.
Aster chose to forgo the use of his wings to fly back. He was in no hurry. It wasn’t a terribly long walk back to the Castle anyway, and he always enjoyed patrolling the streets on foot. It took him back to a simpler time when he didn’t feel the burden of responsibility lie solely on his shoulders.
The walk back to the Castle was calming. He didn’t encounter any criminal activity, but then again he didn’t really expect any. When people saw the Commander coming, they knew to be on their best behavior. Aster was a large man, roughly six feet tall with a body of pure muscle. Because of his father’s strict training regiment he’d been working out his entire life. Another factor that attributed to everyone’s good behavior was his armor. The particular black armor that he now wore was that of a Commander. At an early age, the citizens of Hell learned to differentiate between the various types of armor. The lowest soldier’s armor was red, and covered the bare minimum of skin required. A Captain’s armor was also red, but was a full-body suit. Co
mmander Aster’s armor was similar, but black and much spikier.
No matter where you were in the city the castle seemed to be looming in the distance, always visible. As far as architecture goes, it was a sight to behold. The enormous palace stood fifteen stories tall, with even taller, seemingly randomly placed towers jutting out from all over. The whole thing was square shaped, and covered a very large amount of ground. Below the ground, a deep and complex labyrinth of tunnels ran underneath the castle serving as a prison. All along the castle walls guards were stationed as a last line of defense should demons ever fully invade.
Aster entered the castle and made his way to the first basement floor, otherwise known as the Main Royal Guard Barracks. On his way, several soldiers welcomed him back, to which he would usually nod and maybe give a fake smile. Today he was not in the mood to smile. As he entered the barracks all the men immediately stood at attention and saluted him. He was still not used to the treatment. “At ease” he told them, and they continued their business. Some of them were eating a late breakfast. Others were just finishing up their patrol shift and preparing to head home.
“Where are the Captains?” Aster asked aloud. Most of the men were too timid to speak up. A lot of them simply didn’t have an answer. Finally, one man stood and spoke.
“Neither of them have been in yet, sir. But I’ve heard Captain Fayth is currently handling an overnight situation in the North Section.”
“Find Venus. Tell her that I’ll be there as soon as I speak to Archen.”
“Yes sir!” The guard practically bolted out the door, eager to impress the Commander with his willingness and haste.
“The rest of you,” Aster said, “we’ve lost five men from the Southern barracks. Make arrangements to inform their families.” He paused for a moment, as his men looked to him for any words of explanation or comfort. He added, “As you know, we were attacked early this morning. We’re lucky we only lost five. It could have been much worse.” The men didn’t seem too comforted, but what else could he do? Give a rousing speech and pretend everything was okay? Everything was not okay, and his men knew well enough. Being a member of the Royal Guard put you right at the front lines of battling demons. That’s probably why their numbers were so low at the moment.
Fleeing the tension in the room, Aster made a beeline to his office. There wasn’t much to be done in there, as the stacks of papers on his desk remained largely untouched since he inherited them. He mostly just wanted to escape the prying eyes of his troops. It wouldn’t be long before word spread of how it was his fault those men died. He didn’t know which was worse: the guilt of knowing he caused their deaths, or that he was more concerned with what his men would now think of him.
He pushed a pile of papers forward to clear a place for his head and lay it down on the desk. He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to relax. When he opened them, just inches away from his face and buried under the papers was a small metal nameplate. The name engraved on it read “Commander Clarus Honore.” He removed it from underneath the paper, sending a few stacks to the floor in the process. Holding it in his hands, he zoned out staring at it for an unknown amount of time.
Aster was eventually snapped out of it by a gentle knocking on his door. He sat up straight immediately; tall, powerful, and confident. “Enter,” he called. Through the door walked in Archen Loil, a long-time friend of Aster and current Captain.
“Commander,” he began as a custom.
“Drop the formalities, Captain,” Aster replied.
The two smiled, though only faintly. It was still too early in the day, and there was simply too much going on to be happy about it all. “It seems you’ve inherited quite the mess,” Archen joked in reference to the papers scattered on the desk and floor.
“So it would seem,” Aster replied dully.
“I heard you ran into some trouble already this morning.” Archen had given his friend the opportunity for small talk. It was now time to talk business.
“Word has spread fast.” Aster was always amazed at how quickly stories and rumors spread throughout Hell. In less than an hour, it seemed like everyone would know what he’d done.
“I was particularly interested in the part where we lost five men,” Archen added.
“You were ‘interested’ by that?” Aster asked.
“Okay,” Archen admitted, “interested is the wrong word. I was disappointed. What happened this morning Aster?”
“It was just a stupid mistake on my part.”
“A mistake that cost five men their lives, Aster!”
“I know, damn it!” Aster never shouted. Archen was taken aback suddenly. “I know. I lost my temper when the demons attacked this morning. I…wanted revenge.” Aster clenched the former commander’s nameplate tightly. Archen was no fool, and could read his friend better than anyone else in Hell. He could see the sorrow in his eyes, and knew he was genuinely sorry for what he had done.
“Look friend,” Archen started, “we all know you’re the right man for the job. Every one of us believes in you. But pulling stupid stunts like this is a great way to get the rest of the Kingdom to start doubting you. So how about you pull it together, for everyone’s sake?” Archen always had a way of speaking to Aster, always knowing exactly what to say. And this time was no different. The people of Hell did depend on him. Now wasn’t the time for him to be falling apart.
“I never thought I’d see a mere Captain lecturing his Commander.” Aster was finally able to smile a genuine smirk.
“Think of it as an exchange between two friends then,” Archen said.
Part Three: Captives and Criminals
It wasn’t even afternoon, and they’d already been through a demon attack. To make matters worse, they’d received word that Captain Venus Fayth was in the middle of handling a hostage situation in the Northern Section. This was the first time that she had been in charge of one, and admittedly she wasn’t quite prepared for it. As they had little on their plate, Aster and Archen headed to the North.
They traveled quickly, using their wings and flying low. They didn’t want to fly too high and draw attention to themselves, as their armor basically alerted everyone of their rank. They arrived on the scene to find a very tired Venus, whose eyes lit up at the arrival of her Commander. She rushed towards him with arms wide open. Aster quickly raised a single arm, halting her.
“No hugs,” Aster told her sternly.
She retracted her arms, disappointed but not deterred. “I thought we had agreed the opposite, but whatever Commander,” she greeted him.
“What’s the situation?” Aster was not in the mood to put up with her flirty banter today.
“One lunatic inside. He claims he’s become an angel,” she explained.
“Hostages?” Archen asked.
“Four,” Venus replied. “I managed to persuade him to send out the one wounded man inside.”
“What building is this?” Archen asked, noting the size of the building.
“It’s a school,” Venustas replied. “There are children inside.”
It was common for the citizens of Hell to break down mentally. You would too if demons were constantly knocking on your door. For this guy to be claiming he had become an angel must have meant his mind was long gone. For him to have taken children hostage meant he was expecting to die. It was a general rule in Hell that the more despicable your deed, the greater the punishment. Threatening the lives of children was death penalty worthy.
“Where are they?” Aster asked.
“They’re on the second floor. He blocked all the windows and the rear entryway. Do you want me to call to him?” Aster nodded, giving her the go-ahead. Venus raised the megaphone to her lips and shouted, “The Commander is here, and he’d like to speak with you!” After a little rustling, the large wooden cabinet that was blocking the window slid over revealing a man that looked very much the part of a criminal. His shiny bald head was covered by a large and intricate tattoo. He was wide-eyed, and holding
a little boy with a knife pressed against the boy’s throat.
“I’m an angel, I tell you!” he shouted out the window. “I’m the only one that can save us all!” The child began to sob loudly, and so the madman tightened his grip on the boy and shook him until he quieted down again.
“What are your demands?” Aster shouted up to him. All eyes were on the criminal.
“I need to see King Satan! I gotta talk with him! He needs to step down and make me the king! That’s the only way to save everyone! Make me king! I’m an angel now, so I should be the king! I’m the…“ A knife suddenly appeared in the middle of his forehead. He fell deadly silent as a steady trickle of blood dripped down his face. His grip loosened on the boy, and he then fell over dead.
All eyes were on Commander Aster again. No one had even seen him move, but they could tell by his stance that he was most definitely the one who threw the knife. “I’m going to need that knife back,” Aster said.
The crowd that had gathered to watch the situation erupted with cheers of joy and victory. Moments later, a few members of the Royal Guard knocked in the door and secured the children. The two Captains had never been more proud of their Commander.
“Well done, Commander!” Venus congratulated him, wrapping him in an unnecessary, unwanted embrace.
“Don’t hug your Commander!” Aster told her, pushing her away.
“Come on! I didn’t get one earlier! Besides, its completely normal for one to hug their mate.”
“We’re not mates!” Aster shouted, tucking his throwing knife back into the concealed holster on his armor.
“Not yet anyway.”
“We’ll see,” Aster replied. It wasn’t that Venus was unattractive; just the opposite, in fact. She was extremely attractive. Tan skin, black hair, and despite her strength and superior combat abilities, she maintained a very feminine appearance. Though she was not the first woman to make the rank of Captain, there were rumors that she required a brand new set of armor be made specifically for her. Apparently, none existed with a big enough chest plate to fit her.
Devil's Workday (Devil Aster Days Book 1) Page 1