The Demon
Page 10
Dante sighed. “I apologize, Lord Death. I did not think of the ramifications of killing him.”
“You let your anger cloud your judgment far too often.”
Dante nodded, accepting the scolding.
“However, the city’s fate is not tied to his. It will take little effort to correct the mistake. But, I did not bring you here to scold you. I have the information you need to carry out your task. You are to seek out a woman in the city. When you see her, I will notify you. I want you to kill her in secret, with no witnesses. If anyone sees you kill her, their suspicion will disrupt my plans. The city will guard itself from future attacks and suffer in the long run. This must not happen.”
“Yes, Lord Death,” Dante replied. “I will kill her without any witnesses.”
“Good,” Death said. “I’m glad you understand. Now go, and search for your target. Stick to crowded areas. I’ll let you know when you see her.”
Dante nodded and watched as the darkness around him dissipated. He was on the streets of Istros once again. Figuring he would have a better chance of locating the woman in the morning when the city began to wake, Dante found a comfortable inn and slept the night away.
The next morning he left the inn and began his search. He walked through the market, keeping the hood of his cloak pulled low to keep his features obscured. The previous day’s drizzle had turned to a light rain, so he drew little attention by having his hood drawn. He scanned the crowds, making sure to get a brief look at every face among the people. None drew his eye for more than a second and he eventually grew bored after a few hours of searching. Dante continued through the marketplace, making several passes between the shops. He was sure he had looked at all of these people several times each, but no one stood out. He could feel Death’s presence in the back of his mind, searching along with the demon.
Bored, Dante moved on to the rest of the city. It was possible that not every citizen was at the market, especially on this rainy day. He passed homes and temples, shops and taverns. He peeked into every window, keeping from being seen whenever possible. None caused Death to react.
Finally, Dante found himself outside the tavern he had visited the night before. He was trying to avoid this place, knowing the patrons would recognize him and call the guards. The place was still busy, likely with many of the same patrons. Keeping his hood low, Dante entered the tavern and sat in the opposite corner from where he sat the night before. He scanned to room, noting that there were very few women present. Those that were served food and drink to the many patrons. None seemed to stand out to Dante. He sat at his table for hours, ordering a drink when he was thirsty, food when he was hungry, and watched every person as they entered or exited the tavern.
After hours, Dante gave up. The woman he searched for was not present. He stood from his table and walked toward the door. As he was walking through the doorway, he nearly bumped into someone coming in. He glanced at the person too quickly to register a face, but the presence in the back of his mind caught the sight immediately.
‘That is her,’ Death’s voice hissed.
Dante stopped and looked harder at the person he had nearly run over and his eyes widened.
Staci gasped and covered her mouth in surprise. “You’re him,” she whispered.
Acting quickly, Dante put one arm around her waist, and placed his hand over her mouth, and pulled her close. She couldn’t resist his strength and she was half carried, half dragged out of the tavern. Making the two of them look like a pair of lovers out for a tryst, Dante took Staci to the alley behind the tavern. When they were safely out of sight, Dante released her for just a moment. Staci opened her mouth to scream for help, but Dante proved faster. He held out his hand and shadowy tendrils shot forth, encircling the frightened woman. One tendril wrapped around her head, stifling her scream. The only sound she could make was a muffled moaning and tears ran down her face. More tendrils of darkness wrapped around her wrists and ankles. Dante caught her before she fell and gently placed her on a crate in a relatively comfortable sitting position. With her hands and feet bound, there was not much room for her to move. She struggled for a moment but soon realized that resisting was pointless.
“Do the bindings hurt?” Dante asked quietly.
Staci stared at him incredulously for a moment then shook her head.
“Good,” Dante sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’re a very sweet young woman and you really don’t deserve what’s happening to you.”
Staci muttered something, but the shadowy tendril would not allow more than a muffled grunt.
“Promise me you won’t scream and I’ll remove the gag,” Dante stated.
Staci nodded, tears still streaming down her face.
Trusting her, Dante waved his hand and the dark tendril around her head disappeared.
“Why are you doing this?” Staci asked when the gag was gone.
Dante sighed, not knowing just how to answer. How does one tell a person he is about to kill her? “You… wouldn’t understand,” he managed.
“What in Hades’ name does that mean?” Staci demanded. “First you kill Andrei, now you’re holding me hostage! Why are you doing this? What have I done?”
Dante shook his head. “I am… an agent of… oh, what’s the name for him here? I’m an agent of Thanatos, the Reaper. I was sent to… Well, I was sent here to kill you.”
Staci shook in fear as new tears started streaming down her face. “What?” she gasped. “Why?”
He knew he was destroying her entire world and he felt horrible about it. But she was his ticket home. Besides, what was one human girl to him? Dante was growing ever more confused about his sudden feelings for some girl he did not even know.
“Why am I explaining myself?” he asked. He didn’t mean to ask out loud, but the words seemed to come out unbidden. “Well, have you heard of the towns that were destroyed over the past forty years? Surely you’ve heard something at least.”
Staci continued to shake and shook her head in disbelief. “What does that have to do with this?” she asked. “Please, just let me go.”
Dante sighed again, rubbing his chin in thought. “I was the one who destroyed those towns. The reason for that is the same reason I have you here. I was sent to this era from another time in the future. I imagine that sounds… rather ridiculous to you, but it is true. Lord Death… Thanatos… sent me here to destroy those towns. In my time, those towns become targets in a massive war. The towns were bustling cities in my time, and their destruction caused more damage to our world than it could sustain. You see… there were these… how in the hell do I explain this? It is like Zeus’ lightning bolt, but a million times more powerful. One blast could level an entire city bigger than Istros. Now, imagine thousands of these blasts occurring all over the world. The destruction was too much for the world to handle and too many people died. Thanatos sent me back to destroy key cities so they wouldn’t be as prominent in my time. The idea is to cause the cities to not become targets in the war, thus saving billions of lives. And now, I’m here to… wait… why am I after a single person?” Dante shook his head, confused about his mission for the first time. Before it had been so simple: take out key cities. Now he was after only one person, but why?
He looked at Staci to see if she was following him in his confused ramble. Her expression was dumbfounded and steeped in confusion. But she wasn’t moving at all. She did not even seem to be breathing. Confused, Dante looked around. A stray cat was stuck in mid-leap from a low wall nearby to the alley floor. A drop of gutter water was caught in the air, frozen between the gutter and the street.
A robed figure approached Dante from the other end of the alley.
“Lord Death,” Dante gasped. “What did you do?”
“I froze time, Dante,” Death replied. “I realized I forgot to tell you why you must kill this girl.”
Dante nodded, saying, “Good. I was beginning to wonder.”
Death stood next to the frozen f
orm of Staci. “One day, this woman will become one of the most powerful witches of all time. She would be responsible for untold suffering and death. What’s worse, she would absorb the souls of her victims, leaving me drained of power. If that happens, she could overthrow me. If a witch of her caliber takes my mantle, her lust for power would destroy not only Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well. And she wouldn’t stop at her own time. She would unravel all of time to gain more power. She must not be allowed to become a witch.”
Dante was lost. “But to become a witch, she would have to make a deal with a powerful demon. The only demon with the kind of power needed to accomplish all that would have to be the king of Hell himself. Oh… I see… It would be easier to kill her now, rather than assassinate a king of Hell.”
Death nodded. “Exactly. Normally I would have you go for the source of the power, but in this case, killing the source would cause a war. There has already been one war between worlds. We do not need another.”
“Very true,” Dante agreed. “But how do I tell her that?”
Death stared at Dante from under the darkness of his hood. “You don’t,” he stated flatly. “Why you insist on explaining anything to her in the first place is beyond my understanding. Do it quickly. You want to go home, yes?”
Dante nodded.
“You’re insane!” Staci hissed. Dante looked at her in surprise, then looked around. Death was gone and time had resumed.
He shook his head, wishing he could have had some warning. “I think I would believe you had I not been through the things I have experienced.”
Staci struggled against her bonds, trying to get away from the madman.
Dante sighed and shook his head in defeat as he slowly drew his sword. “I am deeply sorry to do this to you, Staci. I know you wouldn’t believe it, but I feel like things could have been different for you and me in a different life.” He grinned at what he’d just said. “That sounded less crazy in my head.”
Staci froze and eyed the sword, blade reflecting the meager moonlight, and opened her mouth to scream again. Once more, shadowy tendrils shot out of Dante’s hand and silenced her scream before it ever left her throat. He stood there for a long time, wondering why he was hesitating. This human was his chance to go home. Even if the thought did not hold much appeal to him, his future could hold something better. But why couldn’t he strike? What was staying his hand?
Staci looked up at him with pleading eyes. She saw his hesitation and hoped he would not kill her. She struggled some more, trying to loosen the bonds, but the dark tendrils would not budge. She silently prayed to whichever god she believed in that may be listening to deliver her from harm.
Dante stared into her tear filled eyes and felt his heart fall. Why was he so saddened by the pitiful look this human woman gave him? He raised his sword, trying to prepare himself for the strike, but faltered.
Something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. A figure reflected in his blade moved toward him. He spun, sword at the ready. No witnesses, Death had told him.
Nothing moved. Was it just his imagination? Dante was certain he had seen movement. Shaking his head, he turned back to Staci.
“I’m so very sorry for this, Staci,” he apologized. He swung his sword in a wide arc, putting every ounce of his strength into the swing. Steel met skin, slicing cleanly through Staci’s neck. The blade slid through the woman’s flesh, between two vertebrae, then out the other side. The blow was so swift, her eyes blinked twice before hitting the street. Her body slumped over, falling off the crate to land next to her head.
Dante closed his eyes, holding back the tears that threatened to force their way out. He was still confused by his feelings for this girl, but knew that, if under different circumstances, they could have been very close. He forced those thoughts from his mind. He had to kill her. Death had warned him of the alternative.
Knowing the city guard would find the corpse and raise an alarm, Dante ignited a fireball in his hand. He held the flame to Staci’s body, setting several areas aflame. Within moments, only ash remained, leaving a scorched area next to a puddle of blood. The city guard would surely be confused, but with no body, they would likely write it off as an odd occurrence. Dante hung his head and felt himself being drawn into Death’s shadowy realm.
Death stood in front of the demon, his hands folded in his robes again.
“You’ve done very well, Dante. You may now go home. When you wake, you will be in your own timeline, free of my tasks and the burden of the power I have given you.”
Dante looked up to address Death, but changed his mind. Life would be simpler without all the power he was given. Life would be better without having to kill so many innocent people. Dante wanted to go back to that simpler, more peaceful time. He closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
Artemis stepped from the shadows and placed a hand on Death’s shoulder. “I am glad you let him go,” he said. “But why did you lie to him? That human woman was no witch.”
Death shrugged the archangel’s hand from his shoulder. “You would rather I tell him the truth? She had to die to be reincarnated into who she is meant to be. If Dante knew the truth, he never would have killed her. Now go back to your own time. Without the need to watch over Dante, you can go back to your home. You can stop trying to avoid causing a rift in time.”
Artemis smiled and nodded. “I will go, but only after I’ve tied up a loose end in this era. Heaven still needs my help for now. You are a being present in every moment in time. You should know that by now.” With that Artemis disappeared through a portal.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Artemis walked through the halls of the palace in Heaven. He looked around, absorbing the sight of the pristine halls and immaculate architecture. When he would finally return home to his own time, much of Heaven’s splendor would be tarnished by the deaths of so many angels. In his time, the war had been over for more than a century but the realm had still not fully recovered. Too many angels had died, leaving Heaven devoid of happiness and warmth.
“Master Artemis,” an angel greeted as he passed.
Artemis looked at the angel, allowing his dark thoughts to slip away. “Yes?” he asked.
The angel bowed and kept his head lowered in deference. “My lord, Councilor Ariel has asked to see you at your earliest convenience.”
“Thank you, I shall see her soon.”
The angel bowed again and walked off.
Artemis sighed, thinking Ariel simply wanted his shoulder to cry on again. Ever since Victor’s death, she had been nearly inconsolable. Often she had tried to distract herself with council meetings or training exercises. No matter what she did, the memory would always come back to haunt her. Artemis knew it was no way to grieve. He walked toward the entrance to the tower where Ariel lived, and began to climb the stairs. Along the way, Artemis thought back on the funeral the angels held for Victor. They had buried his body among the rest of Heaven’s fallen warriors. The honor was great indeed, especially since he had been banished and was not given the chance to be welcomed back. Artemis was proud of the angels for being able to set aside their petty disdain for a lawbreaker. The angels of this era were much more forgiving than those Artemis was used to dealing with in his own time.
He reached Ariel’s chambers and gently knocked on the silver door. Ariel answered, surprised at seeing Artemis. She hadn’t expected him to come so soon, and was dressed only in a light robe. Her wings twitched and tensed in embarrassment.
“Artemis,” she gasped. Her cheeks flushed with red, almost matching her hair as it cascaded over her shoulders.
“I was told you wanted to see me,” Artemis stated, trying to get things moving. He had other things on his mind and wanted to be on his way.
Ariel looked confused for a moment then remembered her reason for sending for him in the first place. “Yes,” she said, opening her door further to allow Artemis to enter. “I actually wanted to ask you something that’s been on my mind for a wh
ile now.”
Artemis sat in the chair at her desk and nodded, motioning for her to continue.
Ariel fidgeted with her hands for a moment, then asked, “Why is my mirror so flawed in the images it shows me? I watched you in battle with demons. I watched Dante grievously wound you, but you told me that was not what really happened. Why is my creation so flawed? What is the reality?”
Artemis shrugged. “What you saw was a possibility of what would happen if the war had started later than it did. Certain events had to unfold just right to cause the war as it did in my time. In the event you saw in the mirror, I was the leader of Hell’s army, and your father was sent by Heaven to fight me. Instead of Earth being the battleground as it was in my time, Heaven was where it took place. In that reality, I never came to Heaven. I stayed in Hell and trained under my eldest brother, Anubis. When he became king, I became Hell’s general. That reality would have come to pass only if I had been born half human instead of half angel. Instead, the war erupted on Earth, with a different demon at its head, and I was sent to defend the humans.”
“Then how was it you lost your eyes, if not because of Dante?”
Artemis’ face grew grim. “It was at the end of the war. My squad was ambushed outside of Cairo by Hell’s newest general. We had already defeated Hell’s king, but a few of his generals were still attacking Earth. It was up to my squad to root them out and slay them. The general was gifted with a weapon made specifically to kill me, yet I alone survived the attack. However not before he slashed out my eyes. I’m surprised your mirror hadn’t shown you that.”
“I am as well,” Ariel replied. She tried to hide her horror at hearing Artemis’ terrible story. He had to have been close to his soldiers when he lost them. “But why is my mirror showing a false reality?”
“It shows you what could be if I remain in this timeline too long. My younger self would never become an archangel and he would eventually go back to Hell. That cannot happen.”