Prince of Hell

by J N Moon

  “You look pent-up! You should’ve called. I’ve been to see Nimue. Even dabbled with...”

  Putting up my hand to stop that conversation right there, “No thanks, Bael! I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look it.” Then talking quietly to me, pulling me to one side, "I keep my promises. Later, I'll bring back your dead friends. Though I am warning you, it may not work. Raising the dead is no mean feat, and the price will be high. You could lose more than you already have — your friends, the ones who want to catch you, they could be the ones who pay the price. So, think on that." Smirking, he added, “You really are in a sorry state. I can see you’re coming into your power, but if this does work, I doubt either Rachel or Nathaniel would be up for it. At least not for a long time! You ever raised the dead before?”

  “You know I haven’t, and I need to try. I already feel bad about before.”

  “But you said you had no humanity left, but obviously you have something.”

  “It’s different. I want...”

  “All right. You’ll live and learn, I guess.” He’d obviously heard enough.

  He led us into his basement, which was huge with arched coves cut into the stone, shelves from floor to ceiling packed with books, spines of leather and cloth, gold writing etched and fading, and shelves brimming with arcane tools, black, red, white candles, sconces adorned the walls complete with cobwebs and skulls, and daggers that caught the flickering flames of the candlelight, their blades gleamingly sharp.

  A musty smell filled the air, mixed with bitter herbs that smouldered on incense holders, and weird paintings and sigils adorned the walls. Everyone gasped as we entered, the ceiling higher than could be imagined. Shuddering as I glanced at the far end, which wasn't lit but partly obscured by a stone arch leading into the other room, on the wall, chains hung alongside metal-tipped whips and the blades of large daggers glimmered ominously from the candles from this adjacent room.

  I was glad we were in the first room. He'd drawn a huge, intricate sigil on the floor, with an array of pentagrams, strange writing and hexagon-type shapes inside. In the middle was a gold bowl that shone like the sun. Each of us had to stand around the edge, and the four who had been under his spell were so compliant, trance-like, they obeyed without question, and their state continued. They didn't talk or make conversation.

  I had underestimated his power. He was in complete control of them, and I wondered then, when we were the Princes before, before they took our souls, did we act so destructively then because we were under Bael's influence? Shit, maybe Marcus was right.

  Tense like a stretched band, my muscles seized as I tried to think of a way out, but it was too late. He started the incantation, walking around, speaking Latin for all I knew, and everyone except Jack and me fell into a trance. I caught Jack's eye, raised my eyebrows, and he nodded ever so slightly.

  Bael's voice carried through the basement like an orchestra, getting louder. Then quieter, dramatic. Then calm. Walking over to a shelf, he pulled a large knife and walked into the middle of the pentagram. Picking up the bowl, he placed it in front of Richard, held out Richard's hand, and sliced the middle the blood flowing freely into the bowl. Jack twitched, but what could we do? He had the power to control us, so be it. When he got to me, Bael seemed unconcerned that I wasn't in the zombie state. My blood flowed, and that scent of copper so rich, my stomach groaned. I wondered then what Bael's blood would taste like.

  After collecting our blood, he placed the bowl back into the middle with the dagger alongside it and pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket, lighting it, and dropped it into the blood.

  BOOM! A massive explosion forced Jack and me to duck. The others stayed still as statues. Bael, unshaken as a thick black mist swirled around. Watching it, I wavered where I stood, feeling disoriented. A glow of white, silver, then red. It seemed to reach the point of luminosity, brilliant gold that spewed forth and covered us so thick, I couldn't see. I was forced to shut my eyes. But even with them closed, gold was all I saw. Silence from the others whilst I shook, cold and in the fear that gripped me, my limbs, my heart. My breathing jagged. Something burned my skin. The smell of burning flesh, pain like hot irons on my arms, body, legs. I screamed. Giving out, my legs couldn't take it, I crumbled to the floor, blinded by that light, that was all I could see.

  Then, stillness. It was quiet as I lay there shivering, scared to open my eyes, that yellow-crimson light infiltrating my senses.

  ***

  Slowly, my eyes flickered as I felt warm hands touch my chest, my skin tingled, flesh on flesh but this was warm on my cold body. Moaning in pleasure, I turned over and felt her against me, her body heat seeping into me and her scent, her hair sparking fireworks in my belly.

  A bolt of guilt shot through me when I thought of Zagan and Nimue, but it left when I remembered we’d both been unfaithful. She was now part demon too. Unlocking my hand from hers, I pulled her into me. I wanted her, and I could tell she felt the same, but for the moment, I wanted to lay in this bliss, edging closer but holding off. Just feeling our bodies naked, hugging.

  Moving into her, I traced my hand down her body, felt her lips curve on mine and tasted her tongue, as she pulled her face away and whispered...I couldn’t hear her, “Say that again?” I whispered back but nothing.

  Waking up in the guest bed, I realised I’d been dreaming of a distant memory, but I couldn’t remember exactly with who. My body thrumming, a sharp throbbing in my head and the day before only a vague recollection. Jumping out of bed, my legs and arms felt so agile. Looking around, everything seemed so insignificant. Small. I was naked and had no idea why, and I didn't care how.

  Fascination consumed me as tattoos now covered my body. Highly intricate designs; a dragon’s head on my chest surrounded by strange symbols, some I recognised, some I didn’t, ran down my arms, covered the top of my chest and my thighs. Staring like a child in a sweet shop, as I concentrated on them, they seemed to hum, almost glow. Looking in the mirror was like looking at someone else. Power surged through me, pulsating up through my feet, growing stronger as it coursed up through my body. Smiling, I put on my clothes, though it seemed such a mortal thing to do, but I did it, nonetheless. Bounding down the stairs, Bael sat reading the book that I'd brought.

  "Coffee?" he asked.

  "Why?"

  "You like it, remember?" Shrugging my shoulders, I sat down, wondering what I was going to do, who would I seduce.

  "Jack!” I stood back up. “You got your wings back." I grinned.

  He eyed me with contempt. "What the hell am I doing here? Where are we?"

  "Sit down, Jack. You're home with me, Bael, your King. I released your souls. Now you remember who you are. Here, drink this."

  "I don't need that," Jack barked.

  "Just shut up and take it. Go on, both of you. Now, Anthony, about this spell. This will be interesting...."

  "Ah, the spell to bring Rachel and Nathaniel back. I remember now. All right. Might be fun!"

  "It's like amnesia with you two, isn't it? Just take a minute, will you? You're acting like a pair of twats! You, Anthony, loved Rachel even though she was sent to spy on you and she dumped you for a taller demon vampire, and Nathaniel was your friend and let’s not guess what else. Jack, you were a manager at a cinema, a tosser actually, and Anthony here rescued you, turned you vampire so I could restore you to your original self. Now, I realise a lot has changed overnight, but stop racing ahead."

  "Ok, then. Why did I wake up naked?" I asked.

  "I don't know. I took you upstairs after you passed out. What you did for the rest of the night isn't my business!"

  "I do recall we had some ingredients, but they're back at Nathaniel’s," I mused.

  "And the blood?"

  "In Nathaniel’s freezer. Let’s cast it anyway. Passes the time."

  Bael did his usual trick of disappearing.

  The milky sweet coffee reminded me of the past. "Jack, you're different. I'm different. I feel
like a schizophrenic...like I'm fighting two personalities. One that doesn't give a damn and the other trying to hold on..."

  "Whatever, Anthony. Why does he want me to drink this?" Staring into the cup as if he’d never seen a cup before, eyeing the room with contempt, huffing as Andy came in red-faced, bracing his shoulders.

  I ignored him, looking out the window, wrestling with my mind, focusing on the ritual. Rachel and Nathaniel. Yes, they would help me, help me remember.

  My phone buzzed. Pulling it out of my pocket, I hadn't even realised it was there, it was about to die. Marcus. Yes, Marcus. Cold beads of sweat broke over my forehead. My heart hammered. I think maybe I would need his help but not now. He was imploring me to hand myself in. If I didn't do it soon, it would be too late.

  Ignoring the other two talking, I went into the kitchen, fishing around the drawer to look for a charger, no luck. Then I had an idea. Concentrating, I willed myself back at Nathaniel’s. Nothing. Breathing deeply, I tried again. There he was: Bael, and me with him in Nathaniel's home.

  "Smart guy. I'd be grateful if you didn't tell the others how to do that just yet. I need to keep tabs on them. Your freezer needs defrosting."

  "Why did you do this to us?"

  Raising his voice, a little, like a strained conversation, he said, "I already told you. Power. Get the balance back. Humans have lived without fear of our kind for long enough. We're top of the food chain, and they need reminding of that. Tut, those Nephilim wrapping up the mortals in cotton wool, a bloody disgrace, and look where it's got them. Still, what will you do when you get your friends back? Ah, hold on. Don't ask. I guess you were out drinking and screwing last night."

  A rush of energy bolted through me. "I have no idea what happened last night."

  "Come on, then. Let's do this."

  Hell & Coffee

  Back at his place, Jack and Andy were arguing, almost violent, so Bael clicked his fingers, and they froze. Rolling his eyes at me, he went to his freezer and pulled out a large phial containing blood, then motioned with his hand to follow him to the basement.

  Putting all the ingredients into the gold bowl, he clicked his fingers again and the candles lit.

  "Can I do that now?" I asked.

  Raising his eyebrows, smirking, he said, "And so much more. You're the brightest of the bunch."

  "How about the ring? You said that —"

  "All in good time. Right. I'm not going to use the same spell you found. I'll do it." Shrugging, he said, "I don't want to be here all day, no offence."

  Nodding, I asked, "No problem What can I do?"

  "Add their personal effects to this bowl and stand back." He pointed, "There's a chair there. Take a seat. It'll take a while.

  “Anyway, did you like the coffee? I got it on offer, Hawaiian Kona Coffee. Eh, it's good, isn't it? About forty quid a pound. One thing, Anthony, you should always strive for are the finer things in life. Otherwise, what's the point.

  “Also, I've heard the Council are hot on our heels, so once we've done this, we'll need to move on. The protection spell will be harder with all seven of you running around."

  "Where are the others?"

  He said nothing as he pointed to the other room in the basement, the torture room.

  "No need to look like a wide-eyed banshee. They're not hurt. I put them into a deep sleep and chained them for good measure. The chains have binding runes on the cuffs to hold them. I've come this far, I don't want their stupidity ruining everything. I'd forgotten what assholes they can be.”

  He put the bowl on a table, adding the ingredients, using a pestle to grind them together as I watched. Now and then he'd reach up to one of the shelves, adding a bit of this or that. What, specifically, I had no clue?

  "And there I was wondering if you controlled our actions. Last night they couldn't move? I'd wondered if you had done that the last time?" I surprised myself by revealing to him the thought that he was, in fact, the one who had led to our demise, but somehow, I was either more brazen, or I didn't care of the outcome.

  "Smart, like I said. Partly, yes. I do have some influence, not one hundred percent. Right. That should about do it. You ready?"

  "Yes!"

  Without another word, he started chanting loudly, but now, now I understood him. He was chanting in Latin...

  "Surge Rachel, surge Nathaniel per potentiam inferos, per potentiam Bael: Præcipio tibi spirituum ante lucem surgere et dare vobis sanguis septem Reges, sunt sanguis enim rex inferos, per potentiam inferos agedum mortalis animas omnesque formae."

  Rise Rachel, rise Nathaniel by the power of Hell, by the power of Bael: I command your spirits to rise up and I give you the blood of the seven Princes of Hell, the blood of the King of Hell, by the power of Hell and all its souls come now into mortal form.

  Adding the blood to the bowl as he shouted the words, ultraviolet wisps started to stream out, circling wildly around the room. My heart thrummed hard against my chest, tingling around my body. Excitement gripped me, exhilarated at the magic before me, looking down my knuckles white as I gripped the chair.

  Swirling past me, sweeping by my hair, the mist smelt of earth, sea, fire. Then gathered thickly in the middle of the pentagram. I could hardly see him amongst it. He kept repeating his chant. A thunder of noise, the floor shook, then pitch blackness and utter silence. Holding my breath, fear mixed with fervour raced through me. As the darkness lifted, only he stood there. Taking a deep breath, I was about to speak, but he held up his hand, so I slunk back into the chair and waited. Standing like his sons of stone, he waited, not blinking, not breathing, the silence smothering me.

  The ground trembled again, slightly, building slowly. Before my eyes came the vision of my dead friends as if they were being cast back out of Hell itself and into this mortal world, which was perhaps why Bael had chosen those words.

  Reaching up, hands appeared from a hole opening up in the floor. First Rachel, then Nathaniel. Blackened, bruised, bloody, their faces seemingly scorched. I could hardly breathe myself! Their eyes and mouths were bound with large grotesque stitches, only filth covered their bodies. They moved their heads as if they expected to see, crawling on all fours out of the crack in the basement, violently shaking. Bael stepped over, pushing them lightly away from the hole. He shouted, "Prope in nomine Bael Rex inferos!" Close in the name of the King of Hell!

  I tried to stand, but again the ground shook, this time harder. Things fell from shelves, bottles smashed on the floor, and the golden bowl filled with our blood fell into the hole. Bael lunged to reach it, but too late. Rachel and Nathaniel fell backwards, frightened, exhausted, confused. With the hole shut, Bael muttered, "Shit!" then stepped before my friends, gliding his left hand, the hand with the ring. As it passed over their faces, the ring glowed, their stitches gone, wounds healed.

  "Well then. That worked, but our blood is in Hell, which isn't good to say the least. Now the rest is up to you. I suggest you take them home. Here, you’re not going to catch it in your mouth, idiot!"

  My mouth had dropped open as he threw me the ring. I went to speak but thought better of it.

  "The ring will help keep you hidden from the Council of do-gooders. Now, I have plans for the rest of the boys. I’ve healed their wounds, but their minds...good luck with that. And before you blame me, I haven’t been down there for some years."

  Looking around at his room, he looked to Rachel, Nathaniel and me. "You still here?" And then we were home.

  Cleaning out the fireplace, Nathaniel and Rachel stood there shivering, seemingly unable to speak. Putting some logs in there, I lit it the way Bael had taught me and ushered them into chairs around the hearth. I pulled out some throws Nathaniel had kept on the back of the sofa and covered Rachel, who stood looking vacant, no words, just shivering, then Nathaniel. As I wrapped it around him, guiding him to sit on the sofa, only his eyes seemed to register me. He too shivered violently. Although healed from their wounds and bruises, their skin was still somewhat blacke
ned. They seemed shell-shocked. As the flames kissed their skin, they seemed to relax. I wondered what I should do next. Maybe blood? If I give them my blood?

  Walking over to Rachel, biting my wrist, I offered it to her. She looked at me as if I was insane. Raising my eyebrows, I whispered, "Take it. Take my blood. It will help." She didn't look convinced but did as I suggested, and I felt her cracked lips brush my skin, her teeth pierce my flesh, her eyes turned slightly black.

  Euphoria swelled within me, my love returned from the grave, from Hell. Whatever the consequences, I would never let anyone take her again. She fell back into the chair, her black eyes closed in a mixture of warm emotions as she digested my blood. Nathaniel, as ever was more eager and sucked hard on my wrist, moaning as the liquid passed into his mouth, his throat, and his eyes seemed to have a darker obsidian hue about them.

  But now my body was aching, my stomach gurgled. "Wait here, don't go anywhere. I'll be back shortly." I needed blood, fast.

  Out of the house, I made my way up the grand street, turning right at the bottom to the little park that never failed to have someone evil lurking around. Memories flooded back of the time me, Acacius, Aaron, and Marcus had rescued the vampire, Nicolas, from the clutches of a demonic Nephilim-type demon here. What would happen next, I didn't know, but I was glad as hell not to be in the thick of it.

  Now, though, I wasn't so lucky. No human in the vicinity so I had to wander into the city. Touching the ring, I decided to be unseen in case those very friends I'd fought with long ago were about. Better not to push the magic.

  Having no luck in the city, I had to make my way to Vicky Park on the other side of the city. After much prowling, I finally found a man with bad intentions. I hadn't done this since Bael changed us just two days ago, or at least I didn’t remember. The blood, sweeter than expected, pumped through my veins like wildfire. Unable to stop, I gorged on every last drop. No remorse in my heart as I dropped the lifeless body. I should have been disgusted at myself, like my soul had been taken. I did what I was taught. In seconds, a flash of flame, then soot. Confused at my utter loss of humanity, I wondered if humans would start to analyse these sooty remains and should we keep leaving them around. But eagerness gripped me. My friends were back, even though just a shell of their former selves.