“But—alright—al…hiccup…right.” Al said as he stumbled out of his chair. He grabbed onto the table for support when his head began to swim then weaved his way towards the exit. Once outside he looked around in a desperate attempt to gain his bearings. When will I learn not to drink so damn much? he thought to himself.
He had just taken a deep breath to try and clear his head when he was suddenly hit from behind—a sucker punch to the kidney. Pitching forward, Al grabbed onto a nearby parking meter in a desperate attempt to save himself as the sidewalk came rushing up to meet him. He fought back the bile rising in his throat as anger flowed through his body. Pushing himself away from the cement he jumped up, teeth clenched, fists up, as he prepared to meet his attacker.
Miller, dancing around like a crazed lunatic, flung verbal taunts in Al’s direction, egging the drunken man on. “Come on, you pathetic loser. It’s time I kicked your ass.”
Before Al could make a move, the bartender flung open the door and stepped outside as onlookers began to gather for the fight. “Get outta here—all of you!” he shouted to the crowd of people. You wanna stay at my bar then get inside and spend some money instead of standing out here egging these two idiots on. Go on now—go! And you two…”Jay said turning on the two detectives, “…I told you to take your personal business elsewhere. That means away from my bar. I gotta business to run here. Move or I call the cops to clean up their mess.”
The bartender’s tirade gave Al the time he needed to pull himself together. He stared at Miller, the man who’d been a thorn in his side for as long as he could remember. I’m going to end this once and for all. I already quit—what more can the cops do to me. At least I’ll get the satisfaction of smashing that son of a bitch’s face in, Al told himself as he surveyed his surroundings. He noticed a gap between the barricade surrounding the empty lot next door and the bar.
“Okay you little prick…” he shouted to Miller, “…let’s go,” and he stumbled towards the make-shift alleyway. He squeezed his girth into the small opening, tearing his coat as he moved forward into the darkness. He stopped once to make sure Miller was following, “Come on, you weasel—let’s finish this!”
“Gladly, you fat bastard, I’m gonna kick your ass!” Miller screamed as he tore down the alley after Al. He stopped halfway to the drunken man, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. Looking around, he noticed that the barricade had ended and they were now in the vacant lot. His eyes darted from side to side in search of anything he could use as a weapon. An evil smile crossed his lips when he saw a broken tailpipe lying just within his reach.
He lunged forward; scooping up the rusted piece of metal before Al even realized what was happening. Grasping the makeshift weapon like a baseball bat Miller swung, striking his opponent across the shoulder, knocking Al to the ground. He rushed forward, pummeling the felled man with the pipe as Al screamed for help.
“Come on, you fuck—get up and fight!” raged Miller, cackling like a madman as he danced around the helpless Al.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk—such violence. You know, Robert, I could never understand Lu’s fascination with these—these humans—but the exhibition we’ve just witnessed explains it—somewhat.”
Miller stood very still trying desperately to figure out where the voice he’d just heard had come from. His head darted first left—then right—until he saw them—two glowing red orbs hovering above a large clump of weeds directly in the center of the vacant lot.
“What—who is that—who’s there?”
“Even their creator holds them above all others. It’s just—mind-boggling,” the voice went on, “I’ve always found them to be rather simplistic—creatures so easily manipulated.”
As he listened to the voice in the darkness, Miller realized it was no longer in front—but behind him. Fear crept up his spine as he turned to make a mad dash for the street. Running for his life, his peripheral vision could just make out…no, it can’t be…two large dogs running parallel to him. Suddenly the street was within view but, just as he was about to reach the end of the alleyway, a figure—a female with red feral eyes—appeared in front of him blocking his way.
In a panic, Miller tried to reverse his direction but only managed to throw himself off balance, pitching backwards as he fell to the ground. Before he could pull himself up, two creatures—not dogs at all but some deformed version of the breed—hovered above him, their six inch canines gleaming in the light of the full moon. Frank screamed in fear, warm moisture running down his leg as his bladder gave out.
“You know what really fascinates me about these creatures…?” the female seemed to be talking to the massive hounds, “… how easily they forsake their humanity and show themselves for the cowards they really are. Why would anyone covet them so? It’s one of the great mysteries of life—or death as the case may be but—it also makes them useful to our kind.” The last words were uttered with a thick, husky laugh.
The woman moved out of the shadows. The monstrous hounds stepped aside, making room for their mistress as she scrutinized the fallen man. Bile rose in his throat as Miller raised terror filled eyes to stare at the figure standing over him. She was beautiful—flawless—but her statuesque form and perfect features couldn’t hide the aura of evil that oozed from every pore. She was a predator—a killer—and Miller knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was about to die.
The woman tore her gaze from the man below her and focused her attention on the huddled form lying a few feet away from them. “Robert—fetch the other human,” she ordered the beast standing off to her left.
The monstrous black form began to move slowly forward as it prepared to do its mistress’ bidding. As it approached the silent form of Al Slokavich, its massive body began to crack and snap as bones and tendons molded themselves into another form. The large canines contracted as the beast’s body contorted this way and that. The hound stood on hind legs as its front legs began to shorten, the dark matted hair falling to the ground in tufts. By the time it reached Al’s body its transformation was complete. Instead of the huge hound standing over him, there now stood a middle aged man with a long white mustache, his ancient double breasted suit reeking of age and decay.
“Robert—bring the man to me,” the woman said.
Robert Stephenson bent over and lifted Al’s dead weight with a strength that belied his seemingly fragile appearance. Slokavich’s battered body dangled in the air like a broken puppet, his face bruised and cut and covered in blood. His eyes, swollen shut from the beating he’d just sustained, fluttered briefly—then popped open, staring in surprise at the stranger holding him high in the air.
“What—who—who the hell are you?”
Robert ignored the question as he turned and walked back to his mistress who had just been joined by a pack of large, wolf-like creatures. Al struggled in the man’s outstretched arm. He was groggy—disoriented—but even in this stupefied state of mind he could sense the danger he was in.
Blood flowed from a nasty gash on the back of his head, the large red drops dripping onto the hard dry ground. The scent of fresh blood seemed to agitate the beasts surrounding the woman and they began to pace—back and forth— low guttural growls erupting from their hungry mouths.
Robert cast his yellow eyes onto the monstrosities he helped to create and let out a ferocious roar, silencing the pacing animals. Whimpering, the creatures backed away, hiding in the shadows. Robert then forced Al to stand before the woman. “For you, my lady Lilith.”
“Thank you, Robert. Hold him tightly, please,” She stared at Al for a brief moment before turning her attention to man on the ground below her. “Now Frank—it is Frank, right? Anyway, you’re going about this vendetta thing all wrong. Although your methods would’ve eventually done the job the goal is not to just kill the body…”she said casting another glance at Al’s battered body, “…but to capture the soul.
You see, while killing him may bring you some satisfaction, owning the soul gives you leverage—and power. And that’s what it’s really all about. Why do you think my lover has been fighting his Maker for the souls of your kind for eons? Robert…” she said as she motioned towards her servant.
Stephenson grabbed Al by the shoulders with both hands, bending the man’s arms backwards as his chest protruded forward.
“Arghh!” Al screamed in pain.
Lilith held her hand out before her, staring at the glossy red nails as they morphed, one by one, into long sharp talons. Slowly she dragged her index finger down the side of Al’s face, across the soft flesh of his neck and down the front of his shirt. With a quick swipe she shredded the shirt as the terrified man struggled to break free of his captor. Blood welled up in the scratches left by Lilith’s nails as the pack of beasts began to circle in a frenzy of blood lust.
“Something you pathetic humans don’t realize…” Lilith went on, “…is that your precious soul, which most of you worry over and we all covet, resides in the heart.” With those words she lunged forward, thrusting her hand deep inside Al’s chest. A sickening crack was heard as muscle and bone was torn and split. Al’s head jerked forward, his eyes large and round with surprise and shock. A slow stream of blood pooled in the corner of his mouth before flowing in a steady stream over his lips and down his chin.
Lilith twisted her hand first to the right—then the left—before jerking backwards as she ripped the still beating heart from the chest of the doomed man. Al’s body slumped backwards into Robert’s waiting arms. The evil hound heaved it, like an unwanted toy, into the weeds next to the vacant lot. The pack of wolves scurried after it as another form materialized out of the darkness.
“You fools! What have you done?”
Lilith spun around to face Samael, his black wings fully extended as he hovered above the ground. Turning towards the hungry pack, the Angel of Death barked out an order, “Get back, you filthy animals!” At his command the monstrous wolves cowered in fear then fled, leaving Al’s dead body untouched. Turning hate filled eyes upon the man at Lilith’s side Samael issued another command, “If you can’t control your demon dogs, Stephenson, I’ll smite them all!”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind—especially when Lucifer finds out we’ve done your job for you. We claimed one of the souls he sent you to harvest.” Lilith spat at him.
“Oh really? Then I’ll just take that soul from you, Lilith.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind. The soul is mine.”
“The soul is neither yours nor mine. This soul belongs to the Light,” pronounced Samael, his huge form still hovering above the ground.
“And what’s that supposed to mean, angel?” Lilith asked, knowing very well what it meant but not wanting to admit that she’d made a grave mistake.
“It means exactly what you think it does. That you, in your ignorance, harvested this human’s soul before his time which means that your master hasn’t had the chance to corrupt it fully so —he must forfeit his claim? What do you think Lu will say—and do—when he finds this out?”
“You lie! This soul belonged to a cop. How good could it have been?”
“This man was better than you, or anyone, realized so I will take his soul to its rightful owner where the Light will welcome it with open arms.”
“You’re saying this to save your own ass just because we found the soul first!” Lilith screamed.
“Believe what you wish, demon. You’ll find out the truth soon enough.”
Meanwhile, Frank Miller, coming out of his shock induced stupor, took advantage of the argument these creatures were having to make his escape. He pushed himself up from the ground and started to crawl backwards heading for the shadows near the back of the building. His body was shaking from the gruesome scene he’d just witnessed. He may not have liked Al Slokavich but that was a hell of a way to die.
Just as he thought he might actually be able to slip away into the darkness the thing hovering in the air lowered itself to the ground. Turning around very slowly, it pointed a long, narrow finger in Frank’s direction. “That is the soul your master covets, Lilith. Could you not tell? He reeks of anger and envy, a fitting gift for one such as your Dark Lord.”
Lilith looked at the angel. Is that fear I see in her eyes, wondered Samael?
“You are certain of this?” Lilith asked, her voice a faint whisper.
Samael just stared at her with his black eyes as Frank, realizing he would soon meet the same fate as Al, leaped off the ground and started to run—but he didn’t get far. With a flick of her wrist, Lilith stopped him mid stride. She stared at the terror filled man with astonishment as she realized the error she’d made.
“Now, give me back the soul of the innocent, madame.” Samael ordered.
Lilith, as if compelled, tossed the heart that, only minutes before, was beating inside of Al Slokavich’s body, to the angel. “You know Lilith, you will never change. It was your impetuous ways, your vanity and arrogance, that damned you in the beginning and, in the end; they will be the means for your destruction.”
Lilith barely glanced at the angel as she turned to the hounds and their mangy pack of wolves. Her only thought was to exit this place before her demon lover was made aware of her mistake. She needed time to form some sort of plausible explanation for the actions of this evening. I could blame it on the hounds, she thought. Lucifer would believe that. After all they’re only dogs. But she knew her lover well and he would know the truth no matter what lie she told him.
“Come on you filthy beasts—we have work to do,” she said to the pack surrounding her.
“Hold on a moment, woman.” Samael said with a smirk. “We have some unfinished business to attend to.”
Lilith stood with her back to the angel as her anger returned full force. “I have no business with you, Samael,” she said, her head turned slightly to the side so he could just make out the outline of her face.
“Oh but you have. You have single handedly changed the course of destiny for both of these humans. Although there is little to be done for this one…” Samael said as he held Al’s heart up high in the air, “…this man’s…” he said indicating the cowering Frank, “…soul was scheduled to cross the River Styx on this very day. But, because of your interference, he remains alive. This whole incident must be explained to Lucifer.”
“Then why don’t you explain it to him!”Lilith shouted, “I don’t have the time or the inclination.”
“Then you better make time—this is all on you, Lilith. Good luck—you know how he gets when he loses something he covets.”Samael taunted.
“Go to hell!”
“That is not my destiny—no matter how much you may wish it but you, on the other hand, have a special place waiting for you there and it may not be as prestigious as you might like after today’s debacle.”
Lilith stared at the angel, her red eyes blazing. She’d faced Lucifer’s wrath before and it was not something she wished to experience again. What am I going to do? she thought when an idea suddenly occurred to her. A slow smile spread across her perfect face. “You can preach all you want to, Samael, but this whole situation can be easily rectified. I’ll simply rip the heart out of this one…” she said indicating Frank who was vomiting on the ground beside her, “…and hand it to Lu myself.”
“I’m afraid that door’s been closed, Lilith, so you can wipe that look of triumph off your face. This one…” Samael said, pointing to Frank Miller, “…was supposed to die at the hands of the other. His murder would have paved the way for the damnation of Al Slokavich’s soul and the souls of his friends who would have done anything to protect him. So you see my lovely Lilith, you’ve not only deprived your lord of the soul he wanted but you saved Al Slokavich’s soul from eternal damnation—and we both know how Lucifer feels
about that.”
A look of horror crossed Lilith’s face. She knew better than anyone that forgiveness was not a virtue that Lucifer possessed. He would be furious with her. Shit—now what?
Robert Stephenson, seeing the look of panic on his mistress’ face, saw an opportunity to ingratiate himself with Lilith. The human form of the hellhound took a step towards his mistress, bowing deeply, “My lady.”
“What is it?” she asked impatiently.
“If I may make a suggestion, perhaps the master would be more understanding if we explained that we spared this one…” he said nodding towards Miller, “…because we need him.”
“Need him—for what?”
“My lady, the master obviously wanted his soul because of the evil that resides within it. Would not such a human, sinister and devious as he is, make a welcome addition to our hunters once he’s transformed into one of the demon wolves? We will make him part of the pack and use him to hunt the vampire priest.” Robert told her with some satisfaction, sure that he’d come up with a workable plan.
“You stupid dog, the master would see right through that lie.” Lilith told him but the hellhound would not be deterred.
“Perhaps, but the master’s obsession with the priest just might be enough to blind him to the truth. He put you in charge of collecting the priest—reclaiming the soul that was rightfully yours. Would Lucifer not allow you to decide whom you might need to accomplish this task?”
“Yes—yes, this just might work.” Lilith said as she grew hopeful.
“I will not be a part of deceiving the greatest of deceivers.” Samael pronounced.
“We’re not asking you to be.” Lilith told him. “Your task is to transport the souls sent to you. Well —you have one in your grasp so why don’t you take it home? The sooner you’re out of my sight the happier I’ll be.”
A Soul in Torment Page 23
