The Demon

by Rick Bonogofsky

  Erin tried to stand, but was forcibly shoved back to her knees by a guard. She shot him an angry look and leveled her glare back to Dante. “I failed,” she muttered.

  Dante leaned forward some more. “Failed at what?”

  “Being yours,” Erin grinned helplessly. “I thought that with that woman out of the way, you would notice me. I was wrong. And I was tricked.”

  “Tricked how?” Dante demanded.

  “The angel. Victor.” Erin smiled at Dante’s immediate scowl. “He killed me.”

  Dante rested back on his throne and thought to himself. After a moment, he said, “Are you confessing to Staci’s murder, then?”

  Erin shook her head. “Her blood is not on my hands, as much as I would like it to be. Not for lack of trying.”

  Dante’s scowl deepened. “Then who killed her?”

  Erin shrugged. “When I felt that angel’s sword run through my heart, I was trying to kill your woman. Victor killed me to stop my blade. Before my vision went black, I saw her alive and well.”

  Dante’s heart skipped a beat and he reflexively brushed his fingers against the ring he kept on a chain around his neck as a reminder of his lost love. Was it true? Could Staci still be alive? But Erin had still attempted to kill his beloved. For that, she would be severely punished. “Guards, throw her in the Pits. Find her a punishment suitable for her crime.” With a wave of his hand, the guards did his bidding and dragged Erin kicking and screaming back through the great hall. Her fearful wails could still be heard as they crossed the bridge and left the area.

  The king sat on his throne and ordered every person out of his hall. His brow furrowed, deep in thought, Dante contemplated the repercussions of his absence from Hell. He would need to appoint a steward to reign in his stead. He snapped his fingers and an advisor, a small imp with purple skin and bright, mismatched red eyes, rushed to his side from one of the many alcoves on wings that seemed too small to hold his frame.

  “Yes, my lord?” the devil hissed.

  “You are one of my most trusted advisors, Kizrack.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” Kizrack bowed.

  “I need you to be my steward while I am away. I do not know how long I will be gone. I will remain in constant contact with you, so if you have any questions or needs, let me know. I trust you to keep my absence a secret.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Good. Now, prepare my ritual chamber. I have a portal to open.”

  Kizrack fluttered away to do his king’s bidding, while Dante sat in contemplation. If Erin’s words were true, the implications could be dire. He had been away for over ten years. To a human, that was a long time. If Staci was truly alive and well… But Dante had felt her die. He felt it through the ring he still kept. Sudden realization hit him. The ring was not perfect. It was attuned to whomever held it. How could he be so foolish? He leapt from his throne and bolted out of the tower. He ran across the bridge and jumped into the air. Wings of shadow erupted from his back and he flew through the air like a missile. The ground below was dotted in villages and people heading back to their homes. Dante scanned the area, looking for the guards and Erin. He saw a carriage being drawn by a pair of nightmares, obsidian horses with manes and hooves of fire, and dove toward it. The carriage held a cage, and within it was Erin, still bound and bloody.

  “Halt,” Dante commanded.

  The two guards looked back and saw their king, pulling back hard on the reins. The nightmares whinnied in surprise but stopped, their flaming hooves scuffing at the dirt.

  Dante approached Erin’s cage, reached through the bars and gripped her by the throat, pulling her closer. “Tell me everything,” he hissed.

  Erin grinned, enjoying the turmoil in his eyes. “I tried to kill her. I tried hard. But Victor was against it. He stopped me in my first attempt. Then he and I chatted. Seems he wanted Staci all to himself, so we came up with a plan. We tried telling her you were being unfaithful. Of course, she saw right through that lie. Then I noticed her ring. It was so similar to the one you wore. Add that to the fact that the two of you were always in contact, I figured it was through the ring. So I stole it. I could feel you trying to contact her and she didn’t seem to notice I had the ring. I used that lack of presence against her. I told her you had died. She took it ever so hard. While she was distraught, I raised my blade to strike. Victor was faster, unfortunately. He drove his sword through my heart and sent me here.”

  Dante’s horrified expression brought an evil smile to Erin’s lips. “Then the death I felt through the ring was you,” he surmised. His horrified expression changed to one of sinister delight. He looked deep into Erin’s eyes and smiled, stealing her mirth. “They say the eyes are the windows to the soul.”

  Erin’s terrified look grew as she realized Dante was adding another punishment to her sentence. She screamed as a white hot burning sensation rippled through her body.

  “I’ve set your soul on fire, Erin,” Dante shouted over her screams. “It won’t consume you, but you’ll be in never-ending agony for the rest of eternity. Enjoy the Pits, woman.” He released her and allowed the frightened guards to resume their trek to the pits of Hell.

  Dante returned to the tower, his hope renewed. He would find Victor and force him to tell him where Staci was. After Dante had the information he needed, Victor would die. Dante planned to talk Death into letting him have the angel’s soul, to let Victor suffer and rot in the Pits. Once reunited with Staci, Dante would bring her back with him to rule at his side. Nothing would stop him from having the family he had always wanted.

  Artemis paced in his chambers. Agitation shook his feathered wings and caused him to clench his fists. He had heard about the woman Erin and her venomous words to Dante. Given free reign, Dante would destroy all of Earth to get Staci back. Such was Death’s warning. Artemis had little use anymore for romance and openly despised soul mates. He would see Dante rotting in the ground before he allowed the demon to start another war on Earth’s soil. What the demon did in his own kingdom was his business, but once that conflict spread to another realm, Artemis was forced to step in. It was his job to keep the balance and the peace between the three worlds.

  Death had come to the archangel to warn him of Dante’s movements. The reaper was afraid Dante would rain destruction down upon the humans to find his beloved. And it was Death’s fault. He was the one who had wanted to have a more prosperous world after the war. He was the one who sent Dante back in time to make sure the future was secured. And it was Death who had allowed the continued reincarnation of Staci’s soul to become the woman Dante was destined to marry. Death had advanced the reincarnation cycle to bring the woman to Dante decades sooner than fate originally planned. Death felt responsible for the coming onslaught of violence. Artemis considered revoking the reaper’s powers.

  Artemis had listened, scowl deepening, and formed the beginnings of a plan. As the king of Hell, Dante was nearly godlike in power, thus impossible to accurately foresee his actions, and would be nigh unstoppable if allowed to go on the rampage that was surely coming. Strip him of those powers, however, and he becomes yet another simple demon on Earth. Artemis had the power to do so, after all. Then again, there was always the alternative; hand Victor over to the demon and let Dante exact his revenge. Give the king of Hell his queen and let the whole ordeal be done. Handing Victor over would certainly be the simpler course. It took immense power to strip a being of their birthright once it was obtained. Artemis could do it. It was well within his right, as the true heir to the throne of Hell. Being the only remaining direct son of Osiris, Artemis held more claim to the throne than a descendant such as Dante. However, Artemis did not want the throne. He was content to accept his lot as the Keeper of Balance and the Lord of Order.

  The archangel stopped his pacing and sighed. To save the worlds from another devastating war, he would hand over the angel responsible for this madness to the demon. This decision would only lead to more evil entering the world,
but Artemis vowed to take a direct role in rebalancing the world. The vow meant more killing, and the possibility of creating new enemies, something Artemis was hesitant to do, but it would have to be so. He left his chambers and made his way to Earth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Dante took his first steps on Earth in ten long years. He went back to his home south of Manhattan and saw that the area had been retaken by the humans. The beach was once again a recreational area and he saw people lounging in the summer sunlight. They looked healthier overall than the last time he was on Earth. Modern medicine had greatly improved in the last ten years. His old home was gone, removed by the humans. Dante walked north, headed for the city. His eyes wandered up to the skyscrapers towering above him and he smirked. These marvels were indeed impressive. Not as architecturally grand as his tower in Hell, but still a great feat of engineering for the humans who had just ten years ago been living in the ruins of these buildings.

  The streets were bustling and teeming with life, the people of Earth rushing to get where they were going. Many of them gave Dante an odd look as they passed, for the carrying of swords had become outdated. The demon’s sharp eyes noted some humans carrying concealable knives instead of a bulkier sword.

  “Excuse me, sir,” came a voice from behind Dante.

  The demon turned and noted a tall middle-aged man, likely an officer of the law judging by his uniform, and nodded a greeting. “Yes?” he asked.

  “May I ask as to why you’re carrying a sword through the city?” the officer inquired, his hand inching toward a small club on his belt.

  Dante looked at his sword, then back to the officer. “Old habit, I suppose.”

  The officer shot Dante mirthless glare and began to draw his club. “Son, you’re a little young to be wearing a sword ‘out of habit.’”

  Dante felt the urge to cut the human’s throat, wanted to show the worthless human just what and who he was talking to. He buried the urge instead, and smiled at the man. “I’m older than I look.”

  “Sir, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to come with me to the precinct.”

  Dante complied, not wanting to stir up unnecessary trouble, and allowed the human to lead him to the city’s police headquarters. The building was newer than most of the rest of the city, alluding to the fact that a police force was put in place within the last few years.

  The officer roughly sat Dante in a hard wooden chair across a desk from the officer’s own, more comfortable seat. The human sat down, resting his elbows on the oak desk and leveled a steady glare at Dante.

  “You are aware that the open carry of such a weapon as yours had been outlawed, right, son?” he asked at length.

  Dante shrugged, replying with, “I was not aware. I haven’t been around these parts for a long time.”

  “Were you out of the country?”

  Dante nodded. “I was pretty far away, yes.”

  The officer grunted. “Even so, this is an international law. Our world leaders have put a ban on all weapons bigger than a steak knife.”

  “Why?” Dante asked, confused. “It is just as easy to kill a man with a paring knife as it is to kill with a claymore. Actually, it would be even easier.”

  The officer was not amused. “The leaders of every country have set aside their differences and vowed to take better care of the world than in the past. They do not want a repeat of the last war.”

  Dante nodded, saying, “That makes sense. But how do you keep the peace? Are you going to club a person over the head if they try to do something unlawful? Is that not how some wars start? And what exactly do you think your little stick will do when confronted with a demon, or a vampire? You could throw it to distract a werewolf, I suppose.” He chuckled at the last part, but was not joined by the officer.

  “What kind of fantasy land have you been living in?” the human asked. “Look, just hand over the sword and I’ll let you off with a warning.”

  “Hand it over?” Dante asked, amusement mixed with anger in his tone.

  The officer nodded gravely, extending his hand.

  Dante shrugged, sighing in resignation. “Well, then. I guess this is where I begin.”

  “Begin what-” The officer’s words were cut violently short as Dante whipped his sword from its scabbard and tore out the human’s throat in the blink of an eye. The man’s blood spurted from the wound and he fell to the floor with a dull thud. The air escaping the bubbling hole sounded like a dying flute wheezing out its final note.

  “This is where I begin my killing spree to bring Victor to me,” Dante replied. He left the precinct, sword in hand and murdered every officer to stand in his way. That done, he left Manhattan entirely and found a quiet place to call home miles away. That small shack would become his base of operations on Earth while he worked to draw out the angel who had taken everything from him.

  Dante’s murder spree went on for over a year, appearing in the news as a serial killer traveling across the country and killed innocent people with a large blade. Each murder was different, leaving the police guessing, but Dante knew that one day Victor would find him. The angel was always reliable to come to the aid of humans in distress.

  Artemis watched it all, anger growing to the point of rage. Dante was killing innocent people who had nothing to do with his quest for vengeance, but there was nothing the archangel could do about it. The king of Hell’s actions were not directly an act of war, nor were they overtly interfering with the natural order or the overall balance. His actions were not in the name of Hell nor were they even viewed by the humans as supernatural. It was simply a vendetta against a particular angel, one who seemed impossible for even Artemis to find. Victor was living on Earth as a human, tending to his family and community, and he had somehow found a way to remain undetectable to those who wanted to find him. Artemis had sent out several messages to the angel, hoping to end the senseless killing before it became worse, but Victor continued to elude the archangel.

  Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Artemis sensed a surge in power on Earth. Fearing Dante had done something drastic, Artemis looked in on the humans. The power he had sensed was angelic, not demonic, and the power belonged to Victor. The angel had gone to Heaven to ask for the power to oppose Dante and bring him in for judgment. Artemis guessed that Amun-Ra granted Victor that power, but knew that it would never be enough to take down the king of Hell. Still, there was no immediate need for Artemis to step in, so he kept a close eye on the developing situation.

  “How did you find me, Victor?” Dante asked, never looking up from his plate of dinner. He sat by the fireplace in his small home in the woods. He was not particularly surprised to find that the angel had found him, but felt that some conversation was better than letting Victor stand in the room and loom over him as he ate.

  “It wasn’t very hard to do,” the angel stated. “I just followed the stench of death.”

  Dante smiled, taking a bite of the succulent meat on his plate. “I know a certain reaper who may not like that phrase. Besides,” he added, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm, “I’m just doing what comes naturally to me.”

  Victor moved closer to the fireplace, adding his own holy light to the meager glow of the flames. “You’re not a reaper, Dante,” he said. “You’re just a murderer. You’re evil.”

  “Do you really think I give a shit about how you feel about this, Victor?” Dante quipped. “Well, maybe a little. I am doing all of this for your attention.”

  “You did all of this just to get my attention?” Victor balked. His hand strayed ever closer to his sword.

  Taking another bite, Dante looked at the angel for the first time. “Of course. I have accepted what I am. I know I am a killer. I actually enjoy it immensely. Just as you enjoy killing, I’m sure.”

  “I only kill to protect people from evil things like you,” Victor replied sharply.

  “Ah, but you aren’t denying that you do enjoy it nonetheless.”

  Vi
ctor faltered, hearing for the first time his failings voiced out loud, and by his enemy, of all people.

  “I see I’ve affected you, Victor,” Dante smiled. “You lied to yourself. Who’s the worse person here?” Finished with his meal, Dante stood and calmly brushed past the angel. He scraped the scraps into the trash and laughed aloud as he felt cold angelic steel pierce his flesh, tearing through his back and ripping through his heart and lung. Blood bubbled in his throat, turning his laugh into a grotesque gurgle. He spat a mouthful of blood and looked down at the crimson-stained blade protruding from his chest.

  “And what was it that you had planned on doing after that?” he rasped. Dante turned, taking the sword out of Victor’s grasp, and faced the angel. He grinned, his teeth stained in blood, as the color drained from Victor’s face.

  “How?” the angel gasped.

  Dante stepped closer to Victor and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You forget, little angel; I’m the king of Hell. I am simply too powerful for you to kill.” Shadows coalesced into a long knife in Dante’s hand, and the demon shot the blade upward into the angel’s chest, slicing into a lung. Victor crumpled to the floor, feeling the blood drain from his body. Blood welled up in his throat and his breath came in ragged gasps.

  Without another thought, Dante tore the angel’s sword out of his chest and walked out of the small hut.

  Days later, Victor finally caught up with Dante in Detroit, rebuilt and prosperous. The angel was once again approaching the demon to try to end his murderous ways. The angel watched as Dante peered over the edge of a tall building. Humans walked about on the streets below, getting to wherever they were going. None of them knew the depths of their own world anymore. Once again, humans had forgotten about all non-humans. They forgot all about the war that had brought all of their fears, myths, and legends to life.

  “They’ve stopped believing in us, Dante,” Victor stated flatly.