Redemption: A Supernatural Action Adventure Opera (War of the Damned Book 8)

by Michael Todd

  The general remembered his and Angie’s conversation. “I think that would be good, especially if it works. We could all use a little good news these days.”

  12

  The choppers hovered over the small Romanian town. Brock’s team dropped the ropes to the ground. Brock stood to one side and nodded to his teammates as they rappelled down. There were demons everywhere and screams echoed off the mountains.

  Brock reached the end of his rope and unclipped himself. He gave a thumbs-up to the chopper above and it sped toward the safe zone, leaving the guys standing in the center of town. Turner had his M4 carbine ready. Eddie and Sean were facing down opposite sides of the street, surveying the area. Brock put his hand on Turner’s shoulder and took in the scene. There were bodies everywhere. The stone fountain in the center of town was decorated with gore, and parts of arms and legs were hanging over the edge. The water ran red with blood.

  Buildings were crumbling under the demons’ attack. Several humans had emerged from the ruins with glowing red eyes. Not only were the demons attacking and murdering whoever they could, they were also summoning demons to take over bodies. It was a grim scene.

  Brock motioned for the guys to get close. “Okay, here’s the deal. We’re late to the scene. I think the best tactic is working a grid. We go house to house accounting for the living and helping the Damned. We aren’t priests. We can’t take the demons out of them. If we find infected like us, we get them to a safe space. After that, the military will handle them. We kill any demon who comes near us, no questions. These fuckers are on a mission, and it seems like chaos is the word of the day.”

  Turner pulled the trigger of his gun, spraying bullets across a group of demons approaching. He took down five of them, but two survivors turned and ran. Turner lowered his weapon and watched a little girl emerge from the dust and fog. She was clutching a bloodied teddy bear in her arms and walking toward him with red eyes. “Uh, Brock?”

  Brock turned to the girl and pulled up his weapon. “Hey there, sweetie. I can see you need some help. What’s your name?”

  The girl stopped, and her head bent drastically to one side. A deep voice tore from her throat. “Today is the reckoning. You will all die.”

  Turner whimpered. “Holy fuck!”

  The little girl launched herself at them. Brock raised his weapon and pulled the trigger, and her body flew back and crumpled to the ground. It quickly dissolved into ash and dust. Turner turned toward Brock with wide eyes. “That was the scariest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Eddie held his rifle loosely in his tattooed hands, staring at the mound of dust. “That was scarier than the time I banged Sean’s sister.”

  “Fuck yourself.” Sean shook his head. “Nasty fucker.”

  “Seriously. She looks just like you. She has the same whiskers on her chin. I got real conflicted at the end.” He raised his eyes thoughtfully. “I finished, though.”

  Turner murmured, “What kind of fucking mission is this?”

  Brock sighed and looked around. “I don’t know, but something tells me it’s going to be a whole new ball game.”

  Moloch had been locked in his room for two days, and Baal hadn’t heard a peep from him. He decided to go back to his own castle. He didn’t want to be there when the other demon finally emerged. Besides, he had information to look into.

  Baal’s castle was quite a bit smaller than Moloch’s, but it was perfect for him. He’d acquired several demons from the pool of souls in hell, and he forced them to play classical music on instruments he had snuck in from Earth as he lounged in his living area. He had put a shield around them so they wouldn’t burst into flames, but they didn’t sound quite right. Still, the music relaxed him and helped him think more clearly.

  As the strum of the cello and the throb of the bass echoed through the house, Baal sat in front of his fireplace, his feet on an ottoman. He slowly unraveled the old scroll, waving his hand over the document to reinforce the protection spell he’d hastily put on it. The edges were a little singed, but other than that, it was still in one piece.

  He began reviewing the scroll, running his eyes over the symbols on the paper. He grabbed a kitten from the bowl, ignoring the tiny mews as he popped it into his mouth and chewed. As he swallowed, he remembered what Beelzebub had said and grimaced. He pushed the bowl away. “Damn Beelzebub, fucking with my appetite.”

  He grabbed his glass of wine and took a sip, some of it trickling down his chin. Wiping his face on his arm, he continued reading. He scanned the first two sections and paused when he heard a loud banging on the door. With a sigh, he remembered he didn’t have the service staff that Moloch had. That was no one’s fault but his own. He liked his solitude when he went home, but it seemed he had become accustomed to Moloch’s way of living.

  He rolled up the scroll and set it in a stone box on the table next to him. He waved his hand over the stone, and the lid clicked closed. Slowly, he dragged himself across the room. He opened the front door and lifted an eyebrow at the twisted mess in front of him. It was a wobbly human figure dressed in an expensive Armani suit. The skin of the human drooped on one side of his face. A well-manicured hand reached up and pulled his hair back, which pulled the skin tighter around his body.

  Baal chuckled at the elitist, who was carrying a smoldering leather suitcase, his suit perfectly pressed. He gestured for the droopy human to enter. “Staying as a lawyer this time, Belphegor? I have to say, the look suits you, although the skin might be a bit big.”

  Belphegor snorted. “It will shrink just like a sweater in the dryer.”

  Baal closed the door behind him and led Belphegor into the living area. “Can I get you a drink?”

  Belphegor sat down in one of the chairs. “No. I’m here on official business.”

  Baal refilled his glass, the wine boiling as it hit the sides of the cup. “And when did you ever come here when you weren’t on official business?”

  Belphegor lifted his eyebrows, thinking about it. “I suppose never.”

  Sitting comfortably back in his chair, Baal crossed one leg over the other. He raised his glass to Belphegor and took a sip. “So, what official business can I help you with today?”

  Belphegor cleared his throat and fiddled with the top of his tie. “I’ve been informed I need to review what’s going on with the humans. Our Lord Prince is a bit perturbed, to say the least. I was given the order as he tortured one of his servants. Did you know he likes to beat people with their own limbs?”

  Baal choked into his glass, thinking of Moloch. “Yes, apparently that’s his new thing. Whatever floats his boat. I suppose after millennia of torturing souls, he had to start getting creative to scratch the itch.”

  Belphegor shrugged. “Now, about this human business?”

  Baal waved his arm. “You need to talk to Moloch. The gist of it is that Moloch started all this shit by encouraging T’Chezz. He had a plan for getting rid of Lilith, thinking it would please Lucifer. It seems he underestimated her and the skinbag that she wears. She ended up changing sides to help the humans and the angels. During what the humans call ‘Incursion Day’ she chopped T’Chezz’s head off, and we have no idea what happened to him after that. We’re assuming, with her history and her human’s, that he is dead.”

  Belphegor glanced up from his notes. “Her human’s history?”

  Baal sighed, drinking his wine. “Yes, something about her being part-angel. She’s the one who has been leading the charge in hell. Doesn’t even have to wear one of those nifty protection suits the humans made to walk around down here.”

  Belphegor put his pen down. “They made suits to come to hell and fight?”

  Baal rolled his eyes. “Where have you been, man? This is old news. It would take me books and books of notes to explain everything to you. My suggestion is, get the CliffsNotes if you value your sleep. You could seriously sit here for years hearing every detail of what has happened. But I digress. You should talk to Moloch. He has the
first-person account of everything. I was just in the background making sure he didn’t get hell blown up or anything.”

  Belphegor harrumphed. “Well, you didn’t do a very good job managing that. Part of hell did get blown up.”

  Baal slammed his glass down and sat up. “Don’t you put that on me. You know Moloch. When he gets something on his mind, he just goes with it. He’s higher-ranking than me, though not by much. You know I can’t order him around. Going to Lucifer with it would have been bad. There was a good chance I would have been the first to be beaten with my own damned arms.”

  Belphegor put up his hands. “Calm down. I didn’t mean to offend you. This just seems like a big fucking mess. So where is Lilith now?”

  Baal relaxed back in the chair and shrugged. “Somewhere on Earth, I suppose, although she has been known to make random appearances in hell. She’s out there trying to rid the world of demons. Sometimes, I wonder if she hasn’t realized that the souls are pretty much limitless. We could continue to flood the Earth with demons every day for a century and still have enough to cook, clean, and play music.”

  Belphegor tilted his head. “I think you’re forgetting that most of the demons this human and Lilith kill actually end up dying completely. Gone forever. I’m not even sure if they realize that yet.”

  Baal grimaced. “Well, if they don’t know it now, it won’t be long until they figure it out. That human is smart. With Moloch now completely focused on killing her I would like to say the incursions will slow, but that may not be the case.”

  Belphegor was confused. “Why not?”

  Baal sighed. “Because Beelzebub is planning something. He’s determined to take over this fight and regain his seat at the table. He has done it repeatedly throughout time.”

  Belphegor growled. “I hate that fucking guy.”

  Baal nodded. “I know, right? He has no manners, and can’t help coming up with foolish plans.”

  Belphegor shook his head. “He fucked up World War II by having his Japanese puppets attack the United States. I had kept the US neutral until that point. We were really getting somewhere, too. Hitler was reigning supreme, and his forces were capturing the majority of the world. Best of all, the US was not a threat. Every day I kept them neutral was one day closer to conquering them, too. But no, asshat had to come in and bomb Pearl Harbor. They decimated their Navy and killed a bunch of their men, and after that, it was pretty much over. The US rolled through the world making heroes and martyrs out of every soldier they sent to either front. Beelzebub wasn’t even supposed to leave his damp, disgusting cave, much less stick his nose into a war. When Hitler’s demon got back to hell, Lucifer was so distracted by him he didn’t even punish Beelzebub. The idiot should have been locked up and the key thrown away.”

  Baal could tell Belphegor was getting all worked up, which was exactly what he wanted. He didn’t want the spotlight anywhere near him. Having the suit sitting there asking questions let Baal know that Lucifer was aware he’d been involved in the most recent attacks on humans. That was a dangerous place to be, especially when the dark lord was extraordinarily angry about the whole thing.

  Baal sipped his wine, watching Belphegor angrily scribble notes. “You know what you should do? You should find Beelzebub and give him a true warning, right from Lucifer. I tried to talk him out of it, but you know him. He thinks his power will allow him to get away with anything. He’s been in exile for so long that no one pays attention to where he’s going. From my understanding, the most recent attack on Lilith’s human base was orchestrated by none other than the Bee himself. Of course, this is all speculation.”

  Belphegor shook his head. “This is absolutely ridiculous. Lucifer will lose his mind if he knows Beelzebub is working on his own plans behind everyone’s back. Does Moloch know about this?”

  Baal scoffed. “No. And he shouldn’t, not yet. He has enough on his hands after being blown up, beaten up, and now tasked with killing someone who almost seems unkillable.”

  Belphegor closed his book. “No one is unkillable, not even us. You just have to go about it the right way, that’s all. I’ll probably have more questions for you, but I think right now it’s important that I get to the caves and find Beelzebub. I don’t need another headache on my hands.”

  Baal stood up. “That’s a good idea. Feel free to call or come by any time you need something. If I’m not here, you’ll probably find me at Moloch’s. Of course, you probably already knew that.”

  Belphegor looked him up and down. “Hmm. Yes. Anyway, thank you for the update. I will be in touch.”

  Baal walked him to the door and flashed a fake smile as Belphegor walked out, his suit steaming in the boiling heat. Baal closed and locked his door, then leaned against it and rolled his eyes. “It’s raining annoyances.”

  He clapped his hands, summoning his demons to resume playing music. They jumped to it, immediately started Concerto Number Five, Baal’s favorite. He sat down in his chair and waved his hand to the song, the music soothing his stricken nerves. He unlocked the stone box and pulled the scroll back out to study its contents. He breathed deeply and swayed his head from side to side as he read.

  The kittens mewed across the table from him, but he ignored them. “Maybe I should back off the kittens for a while. Damn you, Beelzebub.”

  “Get inside! Hurry!” Brock yelled, waving to his team and the few survivors they’d picked up along the way.

  They had been caught in a relentless firefight with several dozen demons who had swarmed them, and now found themselves backed into an old church. They stood staring at the open door of the church as a demon squealed loudly, making a run for the opening. It hit the doorway and flew back as if it had encountered an invisible wall. Turner blinked and put down his gun. “What the hell?”

  A voice came from behind them. “This church was blessed by the Pope. Some say even Jesus walked here when it was a temple, although the church has been rebuilt many times since then. It was built on very holy ground.” The team turned. A priest was with several nuns in the nave, all of them huddled together in fear.

  Brock rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I forgot that the demons who aren’t in infected struggle to penetrate holy places. This is good. Turner, you watch the door and shoot anything that gets close.”

  The priest came forward with a blanket and wrapped it around one of the survivors. “We can help these people, but we aren’t sure how long we can survive. We don’t know how long this attack will last.”

  Brock looked at him for a second. “You speak English. I just realized it.”

  The priest nodded. “And Romanian. I’m from the States. I came here a few months ago to protect this church. The sisters and I have kept it open in these dire times to help those in the town who needed assistance.”

  Brock was glad to hear a familiar accent. “This woman kept yelling something to me, but I couldn’t understand her. Would you translate?”

  The priest put his hands on the woman’s shoulders. “Ce încercai să-i spui acestui bărbat?”

  The woman swallowed hard and tried to calm herself. “Fetița mea. A dispărut la început. Purta o rochie albastră, cu părul sălbatic, și purta un ursuleț de pluș. Au văzut-o?”

  The priest patted her back and looked at Brock. “She says her little girl is missing. Blue dress, wild brown curls, carrying a teddy bear.”

  Brock’s heart dropped. He glanced at Turner, who closed his eyes and shook his head. Eddie and Sean went quiet. They had all seen that girl. Brock looked at the priest again but didn’t say a word. He didn’t know what to say. The priest already knew, so he held up a hand to silence Brock. As the priest relayed the information to the woman, Brock turned away, trying to escape her cries of agony.

  He lifted his assault rifle as two demons attempted to push through the door. He walked toward them, pulling the trigger until neither of them was left standing. He was tired of death, and tired of killing. That little girl had done nothing wrong, but she ha
d been sentenced to death by hell.

  Turner walked forward and put his hand on Brock’s shoulder. “Hold it in, man. When we get out of here, we can have a good long drink.”

  Brock nodded. “Right now, let’s just kill these sonsofbitches.”

  13

  Katie landed at the secret base, set Angie on the ground, and folded her wings. Soldiers were going about their normal routines everywhere. Several stopped and waved at Katie, and she smiled and returned the gesture. Angie, on the other hand, looked a bit nervous.

  “We’ll go directly into the left hangar. They converted it into a freezer for Juntto. Gave us more space so we could lay him out comfortably.”

  Katie started walking toward the hangar but stopped, realizing that Angie hadn’t moved. The woman stood there with her arms wrapped around her body, just staring into the hangar bay. Steam oozed out of the building. Katie walked back over and touched Angie’s shoulder. “You okay?”

  Angie swallowed. “I have never seen him up close.”

  Katie wrinkled her forehead. “But I thought…”

  Angie chuckled. “It’s stupid, really. I went to the butcher shop and just stood outside the freezer door. I wanted to visit him. I wanted to be close to him, but I was too afraid. I didn’t know what he would look like or feel like. I didn’t know if he would even be recognizable in his true form. I didn’t want to lose that image of him in my mind. You know, the one that makes me smile when I think about it?”

  Katie bit her lip and nodded. “I get it. But this time, it’s okay. I’ll be right there with you the whole way. I think you might be able to help me think of a way to get him the energy he needs to wake up.”

  Angie nodded but didn’t move. She still wasn’t convinced. Katie pursed her lips and turned her head toward her assistant. “After I rescued you, I asked you to make a lot of sacrifices for the cause. I know it’s been hard on you at times. I’m afraid I am going to have to ask you to do it again for this. Everything relies on us figuring out what this answer is. Bringing him back is not only the right thing to do because he’s family, but he’s vital to our fight. Juntto is part of the puzzle, just like you are. We don’t leave family behind.”