by Hunter Blain
“Yeah. Do you want to go inside? Or . . .”
“Go grab him, would ya? I-I wanna stay out here a little longer.”
Without another word, Depweg turned and began a slow pace back to the underground home, giving me ample time to reflect on my thoughts. I pulled my hands from my coat and crossed my arms over my chest, feeling vulnerable at that moment.
In an instant, I knew I would have to honor my agreement with Collin, which made the whole process easier. Though it pained me to deceive my closest friends with whom I shared immortality — or in their case, a vastly extended lifespan — I knew what Collin had said was the truth, and I would use it as a crutch.
The memory of Dawson’s soul reacting to the nail and lifting toward Heaven where his parents awaited sprang forward in my mind, demanding my attention.
I pulled the nail out and looked down as I turned it around in my hand. With barely a thought, I willed my angelic gladius to life. A layer of heavenfire danced on its surface, just evident enough to be seen but not enough to cast any light.
An obsidian spear pierced through Dawson’s chest in the theater of my mind.
“I’m scared,” where his last words to me before dissolving like a mist on a warm morning.
Pouring my emotions into the blade, it began to glow as the flames rose as if being fed with rocket fuel. The area all around the parking lot was bathed in light that rivaled even the sun.
Gritting my teeth and squeezing my fists, I let my malice seep into my weapon while thrusting the tip of the blade into the sky with a war cry.
The flames reached higher and higher toward the clouds in an effort to reach the stars. Right then, I wanted to bathe the stars in flames.
“WHY ME?!” I screamed as the wind started to howl and the clouds above began to evaporate. A warm rain started to fall, and I dropped my hate and my blade, letting it wink out of existence. I let my hand drop to my side and closed my eyes as the water washed away my tears of failure and regret. I was extremely tired all of a sudden, and wanted to sleep until the end of time.
A few moments later, a pair of footsteps sounded, and I turned to see Depweg and Joey tentatively walking toward me. I sucked in a deep breath and steadied my nerves, letting out an exhale of, “Baaaaah,” as I closed my eyes.
“Everything okay, buddy?” Depweg asked slowly as the pair approached. I quickly pocketed the nail in hopes that it wouldn’t be noticed.
“Yeah. Fine,” I answered curtly, already past the emotional turmoil I had just unleashed and ready to face my friends. This wasn’t about me. It was about them. The pair stopped in front of me and stared, waiting. “I found Dawson.”
Joey looked between me and Depweg, who had crossed his arms and was nodding as he looked at the ground.
“What? Where?” Joey asked, taking a step forward.
“He was in Hell,” I said carefully as I stared directly into Joey’s eyes.
He searched my face, desperate for more information.
“I got him out,” I quickly added, holding up my hands to try and calm Joey’s building tension. The last bit of my humanity seemed to crumble like a dirt clod in a closing fist.
“I-I don’t believe you,” Joey accused, shaking his head in disbelief as water flew from his hair, ironically, like a wet dog.
“He was reliving New Year’s Eve . . . at the hotel . . .”
Joey was rocked back, and Depweg had to grab him under his arms so he didn’t collapse to the ground.
“I, ah, thought you guys told me you were only twenty. The hotel was in 1986.”
Joey shot daggers at me, regaining his strength and standing upright.
“Ex-fucking-cuse me? You want to question one thing I said to someone we had just met? Forgive me, dick, if I don’t want to remember that time.”
“John,” Depweg said, shaking his head slightly in a gesture that suggested I shut the hell up.
“Fine. Your past is your own. But, like I said, I got him out. He’s . . . he’s not in Hell any longer,” I said truthfully.
Both weres stared at me, dumbfounded.
“Oh, God,” Joey said, dropping his gaze to the ground with a trembling lip.
“What is it?” Depweg asked, sensing something was amiss. Even my own eyebrow arched upward. I was pretty sure what I was telling them could be construed as good news.
“Ulrhhhh,” he breathed, as if trying to complete a word.
“What is it?” Depweg asked softly.
“Ulric,” Joey got out as he leaned forward and placed his hands on both knees.
Depweg and I locked intense gazes with matching deep scowls.
“What about him?” I asked, a little more tersely than anticipated, wiping at the sheets of water that poured down my face.
“He-he told me Dawson was in Hell, and that he would make him suffer if . . . if . . .”
“If what?” I barked out, taking a step forward.
Depweg held up a powerful hand, silently telling me that he had control over the situation.
“If what?” the were alpha asked calmly.
“The armor. At Val’s,” Joey admitted, shame dripping off his words as he shook his head.
“Armor? My armor? Are you fucking kidding me?!” I shouted, losing control. Depweg didn’t stop me.
There was a hiss of rage somewhere from the darkness of my mind, almost something you’d expect from a monster movie.
“Is there anything else you need to tell us?” Depweg asked in a steady, authoritative voice.
Joey shook his head, pushing himself back to a standing position, unable to lock eyes with either Depweg or myself.
“Go inside, please. We’ll talk later,” Depweg suggested, still calm.
As Joey turned and began his walk of shame, I wanted to call out to him and tell him the truth about where Dawson was. How he was suffering infinitely more in Sheol than anything Hell could produce.
Depweg saw my building anger and lips trying to formulate words as I stared daggers at Joey’s back.
“How did you get his soul out of Hell?” Depweg asked, changing the subject. My desire to hurt deflated as I looked into my best friend’s eyes.
I thought about Collin for a moment and felt the nail, all of a sudden heavy in my pocket. “I got lucky. But that’s not what’s important.”
“How is that not important?”
“Because the fucking end of everything is coming!” I blurted out before letting out a sigh and rubbing at my tired eyes.
“What do you mean, John?” Depweg probed.
“Fucking shit! I wanted time to process this!” I complained to the air that was thick with building tension.
“It might help to discuss it with your friends,” Depweg suggested.
“I really don’t think it will,” I stated flatly, dropping my hands away from my eyes.
“Try me.”
My focus bounced back and forth between the were’s eyes as I debated.
We could no longer hear Joey’s shamed footfalls over the calming sound of steady rainfall.
“I found the prophecy books.”
“Not scrolls?” Depweg asked, placing one hand on his hip while the other stroked his cleanly shaven chin.
“No, man, it was the oddest thing. They had been there since before time was time, right? And they looked like freaking books you’d get off Amazon or something.”
“Did you learn anything pertinent from them?”
“Yes and no.”
Depweg stared at me, waiting for me to continue.
I told him about the demons chasing me and how the chest had fallen into the River Styx. He scowled as I told him how twelve of the thirteen books burned up before I could learn anything from them.
“What did you learn from the last one?”
I thought back to the pages and was dismayed to find that I didn’t have perfect recall.
“Ah, shit. I wasn’t holding the nail when I read it.”
“Nail? What nail?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing.” Crap. Didn’t mean to say that out loud. “Let’s see; what I do remember is me standing in front of the gates of Hell as they open. Two armies of demons below and angels above all clad in armor, ready to do battle, and staring at me. That was one of the last pages, I think.”
Depweg processed what I was saying as his eyes first searched the ground and then lifted to the stars as his mind worked. The rain had begun to let up, satisfied with a job welldone.
“Is there anything I’m missing?”
“No? Oh, wait. Yes.” I told him about my conversation with Samael, about how he wanted to become the replacement gardener, and then about how the chest had already been set in place by the Devil before our conversation had begun.
“Oh God, John . . .” Depweg drawled, letting his hands drop as he gawked at me.
“W-what?”
“Do you think it’s possible he tricked you?”
A shotgun blast of obviousness ripped through my brain, followed by a dread that constricted my guts.
“Shit . . .” I breathed out as I collapsed to my knees, water soaking through my jeans.
“What is it?” Depweg asked with growing concern.
“I-I left the damn key behind.”
“And the Devil has it now.”
“Oh, no. Oh no—ohnoohno,” I repeated as I tore my soaked beanie off my head and pulled at my hair with bulging eyes.
“The sonofabitch tricked me and now can use the key on the real chest. I-I need to get to Father Thomes immediately!” I exclaimed as I climbed to my feet and replaced my beanie.
“Good idea. I’ll go catch the rest of the guys up.” With that, Depweg turned and began striding away.
“Hey,” I called after him, giving him pause as he turned to face me. “Joey needs to forgive himself or he’ll end up where Dawson did. He needs to face what they did and not run from the truth. They lied to us about how old they were, and I think it was in an attempt to distance themselves from the horrors they caused when they first transformed.”
“I already knew about that,” Depweg admitted. Though he stood fifteen feet away from me, I felt as if he were miles away. He had lied, via omission.
“You didn’t tell me?” I asked, blinking rapidly as I tried to comprehend the shift in loyalty.
“It wasn’t my place to do so. We had been working as a pack to heal those wounds for nine years before Ludvig captured us,” he added the last part with an almost snarl.
Sensing his building frustration, I threw in, “If it weren’t for those nine years, I honestly don’t think I would have been able to free Dawson tonight.”
Depweg’s eyes softened as I spoke, and I could swear I saw the moonlight glistening off his eyes.
“He’s in a better place now, man. He’s with their parents. Tell Joey that he saw his mom and dad waiting for him as his soul drifted to Heaven. It might give him peace knowing that his family is safe.” The lie didn’t hurt anymore, and it worried me how much of myself I had lost.
“Are they?” Depweg countered somberly.
“My parents are up there, too,” I said. “I’m not going to let anything happen to them.”
Depweg took in my words and then slowly began to nod before turning and continuing to the lair. The light rain ceased as he stepped away.
I watched him go as I felt shame rising in my heart and spilling into my veins. Samael had tricked me; I was sure of it. And now he had the key.
Kicking at a pebble in the parking lot, I shoved my hands in my coat pockets and began walking toward the church.
Now that I was back, I knew my next mission was to work with Warden Broadway and kill all of Satan’s warlock army on Earth. The thought gave me a warm feeling in my chest, like I had found an outlet to point my wrath and fury toward. Oh yes, I would kill every last motherfucker and strike at Satan’s plans with a silver dagger.
Chapter 9
As I walked toward the church, an unnerving feeling of being watched came over me. While keeping my eyes down to the road, I let my senses shift into full predator mode and searched all around. Nothing smelled or sounded out of place.
I lifted my gaze and began looking with my crimson eyes, searching everywhere around me to the point where I was walking backward.
Feeling like an idiot, I dropped my senses and turned around to be greeted by a smiling Ulric.
“Greetings, child,” Ulric purred in his fancy maroon suit and black ascot. His hands were clasped behind his back, and I wasn’t entirely sure if it was to show he meant no harm or was just being a pompous prick. Probably the latter.
“Pompous is such a strong word, would you not agree?” Ulric chuckled, reminding me that the dark gift affected us all differently and that one of his abilities was to read minds. I thought he had lost the power once I was turned, but now he was revealing the perks being a Grand Master Warlock came with.
“How right you are.”
“What do you want?” I asked, squaring off.
Silver kukri at my back. Silver kukri at my back, I repeatedly said to myself.
“You will not be able to retrieve it fast enough should it come to that, dear boy,” Ulric said in challenge.
I shrugged in placation and stuck my hands in my pockets, my hand wrapping around the nail.
“I’ll ask again: what do you want?”
“You were graced by Samael himself, yes? I am curious what your thoughts were on his proposal.”
“You mean, to kill God and take over everything?”
“He does not want to take control, John, but will do so if necessary. He is this world’s salvation; can you not see it? A good quality in a leader is someone who does not want the job.”
“Then why do I get the feeling that’s exactly what he wants?” I countered as my fingers tightened around the nail.
Silver kukri at my back. Silver kukri at my back.
Ulric frowned as if in genuine disappointment.
“You are prepared to open the gates of Hell now, then?” Ulric challenged.
“All I have to do is cut off your arms and legs, bitch,” I said aggressively as I forcefully imagined Ulric as a crying potato.
Ulric responded by frowning.
“Yeah, you like that?” I taunted as I imagined him rolling on his helpless stomach as I walked up with the world’s biggest strap-on. In my imagination, I needed a crane and full work crew to move it into position.
“What is wrong with you?” Ulric said, scrunching up his face in disgust as he read my mind.
“Well, stay out of my head. Either that or wear a condom because I have a dirty mind. You don’t know what you’ll catch in here.”
I continued the mental violation and took note that Ulric stopped responding.
“What’s wrong, big boy? Didn’t like what you saw?”
“Stop the games, John. This matter is more deserving of respect.”
“Is it, though?” I asked, tilting my head and squinting my eyes as I mocked him. “I think it’s all One. Big. Game. Just a game. Nothing more.” I was shocked to find I somewhat believed my words.
“Listen to me, foolish child. I now believe what you said before, about the prophecy. At first, I thought it merely the ramblings of a weak boy afraid of his own death. Now I know. He told me,” Ulric said without uttering the Lord of Hell’s name.
“Why should I listen to you now, Ulric? Aren’t you his new bottom bitch?”
Agitation and urgency electrified his words. “That is precisely why you should listen, John! I am privy to information you otherwise would never know about. I am not even sure I fully understand everything he has shown me. All you must understand is that he knows you have the potential to undo his plans, and you must not.”
“Oh, mustn’t I?”
“We need him, foolish boy. He is our salvation.”
“Have you not considered, Ulric, that you were chosen exactly for this moment? Let me guess; you overheard him talking about his plans, and he didn’t notice
you, no? Maybe he wrote them down and you stumbled upon them as if by accident. Whatever the case, I will not believe whatever is about to come spilling out of your mouth. So do us both a favor and shut the fuck up. Oh, and while you’re at it, be a good boy and crawl back into your cell. M’kay?”
“Petulant child!” Ulric burst out with shaking fists as decorative battle robes flowed down his frame. Smoke began to materialize in one of his hands. I took note that he didn’t have on the armor that Joey had stolen for him. “I will not let you stop us. I cannot!”
I rushed forward in a blur, pulling the nail from my pocket and willing the angelic gladius to life.
Recognition flashed in Ulric’s eyes as he brought his hand up, palm facing me. A line of pure energy, four feet across, shot out like a laser toward my legs.
I did a dive in the air, twirling my body as I flew, and struck at the energy with the flat side of my blade. It began wrapping around the sword like a flying Slinky toy smacked in midair by a broom handle.
Finishing with a flip, I brought the gladius over my head and grabbed the hilt with both hands as I threw the energy like a lacrosse player back at my attacker.
Ulric saw the move coming and made a symbol with the fingers of one hand, manifesting a purple shield made of glowing runes that caught the attack. An explosion of sparks rained down and Ulric let go of the staff — which levitated in place — while bringing his other hand around to bear. He smashed it into the rune, and a rain of energy shuriken rocketed out faster than any bullet.
A feeling of oh, shit came over me as I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop even a quarter of the projectiles aimed in my direction.
Then I was behind Ulric, watching as the energy attack shot down the street away from me. A parked car was torn to shreds, like bullets through Styrofoam, before exploding in a fireball.
“Neat,” I exclaimed in wonderment as Ulric began whirling in place.
Crap, right! I mentally slapped myself in the forehead as I brought my gladius up in preparation for a strike. As Ulric’s eyes landed on me in his turn, I began my downward swing. It was all happening in slow motion.
Ulric’s entire body began evaporating in wisps of black smoke as my blade passed through where he had just been. The smoke flew back several yards before reforming into a man’s shape and solidifying into Ulric.