The Demon

by Rick Bonogofsky

  Dante turned and looked at his enemy, a wistful smile on his face. He noted that the angel pointedly kept his hand away from his sword. No use repeating the events that occured at the tiny hut.

  “I knew you’d survive,” Dante replied. “And you’re wrong. They didn’t stop believing in us. They have forgotten us entirely. They are so absorbed in their own lives that we no longer matter to them. Our kind aren’t as prevalent as we used to be.”

  “’Our kind?’” Victor smiled. “You are nothing like me, demon.”

  Dante grinned and looked the angel in the eye. “As I told you before, you and I are more alike than you think. You disagree, but I know it to be true. We’re both the last of our kind on this meager planet that give a damn about anything. Our people have been told to keep to their own realms and must not come back to Earth on pain of death. You’re only allowed to stay here because you’re the favorite son of Heaven. No angels come to aid you and no demons lurk at my side.”

  Victor shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter, does it, Dante? This isn’t a fight between Heaven and Hell. It is between you and me. This game of cat and mouse must end.”

  Nodding, Dante drew his sword. The black blade, tempered in the fires of Hell, seemed to suck in the light of the already dim and overcast sky. “And do you know why we fight, little angel?” he asked, holding his sword comfortably at his side.

  Victor took a hesitant step backward, still keeping his hands away from his sword. “Because you’re evil and I have put it upon myself to protect the innocent people of this world.”

  “No, Victor. It goes much deeper than that,” Dante lamented as he casually advanced toward Victor. “You see me as a murderer and you see yourself as the valiant hero on a noble quest to kill the demon. No, it goes so much deeper than that.”

  Victor finally drew his sword, its own holy light combating the growing darkness, and stepped into a defensive stance. “What are you talking about, Dante?”

  A dangerous light flared in the demon’s eyes and it seemed he would lose control over the raging anger within him. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what you did to me! I can see the guilt in your eyes! You know damn well what set me on this path.” He raised his sword and made a wide slash for Victor’s throat. The angel barely blocked the attack in time and staggered under the sheer power of the blow.

  “You’re not making any sense!” he shouted, blocking another heavy blow. His lie rang harshly in his ears. He knew exactly what he had done.

  Dante stabbed at Victor’s stomach, but the attack was pushed far to the left, leaving the demon’s right side exposed. He jumped backward to avoid a follow-up attack that never came.

  “You took her from me, Victor!” he replied, calming his seething rage somewhat. “You took her and my unborn child from me.”

  Victor stumbled backward, feeling as if the words had dealt him a physical blow. The weight of his own sins drove him to his knees. A tear slipped down his cheek. “I loved her,” he admitted quietly. “I still do.”

  Dante shook his head. “No, Victor. I love her. She was mine. And all you did was play the jealous weasel and stole her from me! Does she even know that I still live?”

  Victor looked up at Dante, knowing the demon would kill him for what he had done. And he deserved it, too. He could not live with himself anymore. He had to make things right.

  “Go to her, Dante,” Victor said in a hushed tone. “She still has that ring you gave her. I knew you would eventually find her if I let her keep it, but she wouldn’t part with it. Worse, I couldn’t remove the enchantment you placed on it, so I had to cover it with one of my own.” The angel concentrated for a moment and Dante felt a faint, familiar pulsing sensation coming from his ring. “My magic is removed from the ring, Dante. Go and find her.”

  Dante turned and ran from the rooftop, not questioning the angel’s change of heart. He entertained the notion that maybe Victor was not such a terrible person after all. The thought almost made him smile. A momentary weakness and confession was no atonement for over a decade of lies.

  The demon slipped his ring onto his finger and concentrated. He called out to Staci, pouring every ounce of his energy into the call. His summons was met with a feeling of confusion, then surprise.

  “Dante?” came Staci’s voice from the other ring. Dante nearly fell to his knees, feeling a great swelling in his chest. He had waited more than ten long years to hear her voice again. Tears streamed down his face and he had to stop walking. His legs felt weak and his head swam. He finally had her back.

  “It’s me, beautiful,” he gasped. “I’m here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Feelings of overwhelming joy flowed into Dante’s mind. Staci was just as excited to hear from him as he was to finally talk to her again. Her voice sounded slightly different, more mature, but it was definitely her.

  “Dante, is it really you?” Staci asked.

  “It is,” Dante answered. “It’s really me. I’m back.”

  “I thought you died!”

  “Victor lied. He lied to both of us. I only just found out the truth and came back to find you. It’s been far too long!”

  Dante felt Staci mentally agreeing with him, but before she could speak, an overwhelming sense of dread came over her.

  “Staci, what’s wrong?” Dante asked, fearing a repeat of the last time he tried to contact her. He concentrated hard and sent his consciousness through the telepathic link between the rings. He entered Staci’s mind and saw the world through her eyes. She was on a sidewalk next to a large building, likely in a big city. Dante did not recognize the area. Standing before her was Victor, sword drawn.

  “Victor, what are you doing?” Staci asked. Fear welled up inside her as the angel approached, murderous intent clear in his eyes.

  “I am ending this, here and now,” Victor stated through gritted teeth.

  “But why?” Staci begged. She moved her arm in front of something Dante couldn’t see. She was protecting someone.

  “Because if I don’t, there will only be more death and destruction.” By now he was within arm’s reach. He raised his sword to strike and paused, looking deep into Staci’s eyes. Dante saw recognition there and realized the angel had probably sensed him in Staci’s mind.

  Staci took a step backward, but the sword came slicing downward. Red filled Dante’s vision as the pain exploded through Staci’s chest. Dante ripped himself out of her mind, screaming aloud at the overcast sky. He clutched the ring in his fist and concentrated, trying to reestablish a link with Staci, but there was nothing there. Just cold emptiness.

  “Staci,” he choked. He blinked back the tears and staggered on. “You’ll die for this, Victor.” Dante was through letting the angel live.

  It took four days, but Dante finally found the city Staci was in when he last contacted her. It seemed that during the ten years Dante was gone, Staci had found a new home in Manhattan. He should have known she would stay close. A pang of guilt ran through him as he realized he could have killed her when he leveled Bethlehem those years ago. Dante shook it off and continued his search. If Victor truly loved Staci as he had claimed, it was likely that Staci’s death was just a ruse. That hope kept Dante moving, kept him angry. Victor had covered up Staci’s ring’s enchantment before, what was stopping him from doing it again? He roamed through the city, searching for the area Staci was when he entered her mind. He kept his sword hidden in an extra-dimensional pocket in the lining of his coat so he wouldn’t be stopped by the law this time. Nothing would distract him from his search.

  Finally, Dante rounded a corner and stopped cold in his tracks. He found the spot. Not only that, he found the exact place Staci was standing when Victor attacked her. There, on the concrete, was a dried blood stain. Dante approached it and fell to his knees. His hope dwindled as he passed a hand over the blood and enacted a spell. It was definitely her blood. Dante knelt there, wondering what to do next. He looked at his ring and frowned. Then, an idea
came to him. He focused on his ring and forced a spell through it, using Staci’s blood on the pavement as a catalyst. He used the DNA in the blood to find Staci through the ring’s enchantment and sent a powerful protection spell to her location. Even if Dante could not find her through the ring, the spell would, and he would use that to find her later.

  The spell finished, Dante stood and made his way to the center of the city. He passed humans and other creatures along the way and brushed past them. They were nothing to him, just inconsequential faces in the crowd. Each of them glanced at him and grew fearful, each seeing dark waves of power rolling off of his shoulders like shadows being shrugged off to fall to the ground. The people of Manhattan gave him a wide berth as he walked. Black tendrils of shadow magic oozed out of his back to coalesce into onyx wings that soaked in the light. Dark clouds formed overhead and thunder rolled throughout the skies. Dante’s hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists of calm, controlled rage and black fire engulfed his entire body. The dark clouds swirled around his location, threatening to unleash a tornado, and the winds picked up speed. Even when he was in the past, destroying all those cities for Death, Dante had never held this much power.

  When he reached the center of the city, Dante was fully engulfed in the ebon flames of Hell and the people of Manhattan were falling over each other trying to get away from him. Dark energies swirled around him as he conjured the necessary amount of power to level the city. Dante remembered the last time he had done this. History was repeating itself. This was how he had destroyed so many cities in the past. This was the end of Manhattan.

  Power flowed through the demon king and he unleashed its raging fury in a shockwave, leveling the buildings around him. Fires born from the pits of Hell flowed outward and set humans and buildings ablaze with ebon flames. The fires turned crimson and licked at everything within range, setting more fires blazing through the city. People burned and screamed in agony, but their cries were cut short by shadow creatures sprouting from the flames and slicing into the weak human flesh. Those creatures able to escape, vampires, lycanthropes, and other non-humans, flew away or teleported out of the city. No doubt many of them would report this atrocity to a higher being, but Dante no longer cared. He stood and watched as his destructive spell ripped through the city and broke down entire skyscrapers, murdered humans, and poisoned the land. And all the while, Dante smiled.

  All through the carnage, Artemis watched, fists clenched in rage. As much as he wanted to swoop in a snuff out this rampaging demon, there was too much at stake to alter the unfolding events. There was a wrongness to the world that needed to be attended to, and altering things now would risk making it all worse.

  After the screams of the dying had quieted, and the flames burned down to cinders, Victor stepped cautiously through the destroyed city. His new home was gone, and the people he had sworn to protect were dead. His steps faltered and he leaned against a large piece of debris for support. His plan had failed. He had hoped to trick Dante into leaving by showing the demon a vision of Staci dying. He had hoped that by seeing her death himself this time, Dante would leave and stay in Hell. Victor’s plan had failed entirely. He had unleashed the demon’s fury on all of these innocent people. He hung his head in shame and knew that the demon would never stop unless he was killed. Or if Staci was back in his arms. The thought made Victor scowl. He would never give up Staci. He loved her and would never give her back to Dante. She was his wife now and they had a life together.

  Victor resumed walking and made for the epicenter of the blast. He remembered all too well what Dante was capable of, and this reminder from three thousand years ago was all too poignant. Victor knew that the demon would linger for a short time before moving on. And the angel knew that Dante was waiting for him.

  Dante stood in the center of the destroyed city, waiting. He watched Victor round a corner and made eye contact.

  “Why do this, Dante?” Victor asked dejectedly. “Why all this violence? What does it prove?” The brewing storm grew more violent, reflecting the demon’s darkening mood and nearly drowned out the angel’s words. Dante’s keen ears picked them up easily enough. Both men stood facing each other, weapons drawn and ready for the coming fight.

  “Why?” Dante repeated incredulously. The fire in his crimson eyes showed his seething anger. “Don’t ask me why, Victor! You know why I did this. All those deaths, all this destruction, was because of you.”

  “And you think vengeance will bring her back to you?” Victor shouted back. “Do you really think killing all these people will erase my actions? Only a deluded fool would think so.”

  Dante started laughing, an edge of madness in his voice. “You know, Victor, when I went to Hell to claim my throne, I never once thought I would get her back. I knew that, because of you, I lost the woman I love. Because of you, I lost my unborn child. Because of you I lost my family. That’s all I ever really wanted, you scum sucking, useless waste of life! I wanted to live a peaceful life, raise my children in a loving home, and maybe someday have a litter of grandchildren. You took that from me. You assumed that just because I’m a demon I will bring death and destruction wherever I go. Well, look around, Victor!” Dante spread his arms to indicate the surrounding destruction. Bodies littered the streets and flashes of lightning lit up the carnage throughout the burning city. “Looks like you were right, then! Look at your handiwork, Victor! Look at what you have caused with your actions!”

  Tears mixed with the pouring rain on the angel’s face as he surveyed the carnage. He knew Dante was right. Because of his actions, the demon had unleashed death upon the city. Millions lay dead in pools of their own blood and Victor was powerless to change it. He had failed to protect these people.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a footstep splashing in a puddle. He looked at Dante, who now approached him.

  “Their deaths served a purpose,” Dante grinned. “With the blood of the innocent, I have imbued myself with the power to finally kill you.”

  Victor’s face went momentarily pale. “Then your vengeance is not yet complete,” he sighed, raising his sword and stepping into a defensive stance.

  Still smiling, Dante strode toward Victor, weapon scraping on the pavement. “It will be soon, little angel. Very soon.” Dante led with a vicious slash for Victor’s legs, twisting his blade away from the coming block to cut a bloody gash in the angel’s arm. The wound sizzled and festered, immediately growing infected. The pain was almost unbearable.

  Victor countered with a horizontal slice aimed for Dante’s ribs, but the blow was picked off just short of its mark. Dante moved from the parry to a downward swing, moving too fast for Victor to keep up, and left a wide cut in the angel’s thigh. This wound festered and bubbled as well, and the infection was beginning to take its toll on Victor. His movements were slowing and his vision blurred. What was worse, the wounds weren’t healing. His angelic blood was ineffective against the power of the king of Hell. He took another hit, opening a long wound in his side. Victor fell to his knees and dropped his sword, his arm no longer able to carry its weight.

  “I cannot fight you, Dante,” he wheezed. “You are too strong.”

  Dante stood over the fallen angel and shook his head in disappointment. “You offered me a much better challenge thousands of years ago. How is it, such an ancient and powerful angel cannot best a very young demon? You proved to be nothing more than an insect compared to me.” He knelt to look directly into his enemy’s eyes. “You could have been so much more than you are. You had the power to protect these people. You could have easily stopped all of this from happening. You could have protected my relationship with Staci. Instead, you went behind my back and stole her from me. Erin told me everything, and now she suffers in Hell for her part in this little game of yours.” Dante shook his head again, lowering his eyes to the ground. “You truly are a very disappointing example of your people. I grew up hearing the legends of how Heaven opened its gates and sent angels
by the thousands to defend this world from my people. I grew up knowing that angels were righteous and fair and just. I learned about the bravery and honor of all the angels. Hell, my mother and father fought beside your kind in the war. Think about it. A demon fighting alongside an angel. Not so preposterous, is it? We could have been friends. You and Staci were friends. She told me, and I accepted that. She told me all about how you selflessly protected that tiny little town. She told me of how you cared for those people when you had absolutely no reason to. And you did it as a human. She never knew what you were. All I ever wanted was to live my life in peace, raise my child and love her. We could have been friends, once upon a time.”

  Victor wept as Dante stood. The demon was right; he was weak and all of what had happened was his own fault.

  Dante raised his sword, readying a final blow. “I promise, Victor, I will see you again. And you will not enjoy the plans I have for you.” He brought his sword down upon the back of the angel’s neck and drove the blade through bone and muscle. Victor’s head rolled to the side and stopped when it hit a pair of black armored boots. Dante looked up to see Artemis standing above the angel’s corpse, arms folded over his armored chest.

  “What are you doing here?” Dante asked.

  Artemis bent and picked up Victor’s head, holding it up to his face. Dante figured the archangel could still see, even though his scarred eyes were covered by a black silk blindfold. “I came to see if your tantrum was over, Dante.” Artemis replied. The threat in his voice was clear, and Dante was sure the archangel would slay him on the spot if he didn’t like his answer.

  “Victor is dead,” Dante stated. “Staci is safe somewhere out there, thanks to my protective spells. Once she is back in my arms, my errand will be complete.”

  “No more killing?” Artemis asked.

  Dante nodded. “It ends. Unless I need to defend my family.”