by Eric Vall
“Holy fuck, bro!” Todd gasped. “You made him flatter than a gymnast’s chest!”
“Is he alright?” Ariel questioned.
“He’s a Shade, Little Mermaid,” the imp explained. “Worst case scenario is he stands up all flattened and cartoony.”
“I don’t think that’s how the human anatomy works … ” the redhead shot back, but the imp was having none of it.
“Sure it is,” Todd scoffed, “I saw it on a documentary one time. The dude was run over by a steamroller, and then he pulled himself off the ground and re-inflated his body. The only problem was that it made his voice all high-pitched, and his eyes were bugging out of his skull. It was pretty fucking horrific, even for my standards.”
“Did this ‘documentary’ happen to have a talking rabbit that helped solve a crime with a human?” I asked sarcastically.
“That’s the one, Jakey!” Todd exclaimed as he clapped his hands together. “The one with the super-hot wife who I may or may not have choked the chicken to every night before I went to bed.”
“Uhhhh,” I muttered, at a total loss for words.
“I’m just fucking with you, bro,” Todd giggled. “It was every other night.”
“Look!” Daniel called out and pointed at the rubble.
I turned my attention back to the pile of brimstone as it began to move.
Hans’ armored hand broke through the surface, grabbed onto the pillar for support, and then hoisted his giant frame back into view. The large Shade looked a little shaken up, but he didn’t seem to be injured at all.
“It’s official,” Ariel grinned, “this is the greatest armor in the history of the universe.”
“Brundlefly is fuuuuucked when we get our hands on him,” Todd added. “Now, we have an army of bros who can’t die, wearing armor that can’t be pierced? Jakey, I think we totally just invented immortality.”
“Not quite,” Cupiditas added as she and Eligor approached, “but I think it’ll be close enough for our purposes.”
“But wait,” Todd asked himself aloud, “who are we to play God? Doesn’t that go against the laws of nature itself? If we can create immortality, then who’s to say we can’t become death itself?”
“I think you’ve been hanging out with Plato too much,” Eligor chuckled, but then went silent when she saw my expression. “Sorry, Jacob.”
“It’s fine,” I reassured her. “I’m just happy to hear you use sarcasm. It’s a good fit for you.”
“Very funny,” Eligor sighed. “Don’t get too used to it, though. A knight of the highest order has no time for--”
“King Ralston!” One of my palace guards came running onto the scene, completely out of breath. “King Ralston, I come bearing news!”
“What is it, friend?” I asked the guard as I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“It’s-It’s … we’ve spotted Mammon on the outskirts of the Fourth Circle, near the portal to the Third,” he explained. “They are joined by a party bearing the sign of Asmodeus, as well.”
Well, it seemed the other Demon Kings had decided to accept my invitation.
It was time to get this party started.
Chapter 7
This was it. As I sat at the head of our formal dining table, I tried to keep my cool over what was about to go down.
The King of the Second Circle, Mammon, was here, and he wanted to talk alliances. If we could somehow get him on our side, then we would have the First, Second, and Fourth Circles all locked up.
If we could do that, then we’d be one step closer to having the army we needed to bring down Beelzebub and, eventually, my father.
But first thing’s first. We needed to get Mammon on our side.
Every single member of my team was here. All seven of the succubi, Todd, Daniel, Eligor, and Ariel were here, mostly to show off the vast array of power I had standing behind me as king.
“All rise for the King of the First Circle and the Master of Love,” Ronaldo, Asmodeus’ right-hand Shade, announced. “Please give your warmest, wettest welcome to his royal highness, Asmodeus!”
The King of the First Circle already had his fanfare of bass guitars lined up, and they began to play their funky tune to welcome their king.
However, when the music began, only one person walked through the dining room door. It was a shorter, slender woman with dark brown locks, cat-like features, and deep blue mascara that highlighted her purple eyes perfectly.
It was Mirage, the madame to Asmodeus’ succubi.
The brunette woman strutted into the dining room wearing a gorgeous red dress that was bedazzled with sequins and shone like a disco ball underneath the bright lights of the castle. She walked up to the back of the chair we’d reserved for Asmodeus and stood behind it patiently. The music stopped, and then she cleared her throat loudly.
“My master could not be here today,” she explained. “At least, not physically.”
“Great,” Cupi sighed and rolled her eyes, “here’s the part where she shows off her powers.”
“So, in his place,” the brunette madame continued, “I will project his likeness into this room. It will be just like he’s here in the flesh!”
Without another word, Mirage’s eyes lit up with green Hellfire and rolled into the back of her head. The succubus’ body went rigid as she stood as still as a statue, and then emerald-colored smoke began to waft from her eye sockets.
It floated down to the floor, traveled up into the chair, and then formed into the figure of Asmodeus. The demon was clad in his usual flamboyant dress, with a shoulder-padded shirt made up of multicolored feathers and pants that looked like they were red corduroy. He held his jeweled cane in his right hand, and right now it doubled as a makeshift hat rack for his purple tophat. The Demon King was sitting with his left leg crossed over his lap, and his head rested calmly on his fist.
“Good evening, everyone,” he proclaimed. “I apologize for not being here in person, but I had some … urgent matters to attend to.”
The sound of women giggling arose from the background, and I instantly knew what sort of “urgent matters” Asmodeus was attending.
“Hello, Asmodeus,” I greeted the Demon King. “Thank you for being here today, even if you’re just projecting in.”
“Demon Facetime,” Todd whispered. “We could make millions, bro.”
I ignored the imp and turned my attention to the second door.
A group of sickly-looking Shades were lined up with some sort of trumpet instruments in their hands. Upon closer inspection, I realized they weren’t trumpets at all. They were made up of plastic and were elongated so they were nearly the size of the Shades’ entire bodies.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” I muttered under my breath.
They were fucking vuvuzelas.
The Shades raised the instruments up to their lips and began to blow. Instantly, the dining hall was filled with a deep, droning buzz that made my ears feel like they were about to bleed.
“I thought I was supposed to be the master of torture,” Ira cringed as she covered her ears.
Then, through the haze of buzzing, appeared Mammon.
He only stood about six feet tall, but you wouldn’t have guessed it based on his general width. Mammon had a gut the likes of which I’d never seen in my life, one that protruded out like a pregnant woman’s and jiggled with each step he took. The Demon King wore nothing but a raggedy brown loincloth that flapped in the wind and threatened to expose him for all to see. His skin was a sickly light yellow, contrasted sharply by his dark red eyes and black, ram-like horns. Mammon was carrying a large burlap bag over his shoulder, and it jangled along with each of his gut’s jiggles, so I assumed it was the bag that held his wealth.
He was the Demon King of Greed, after all.
“Broooooo,” Todd hissed under the cover of the vuvuzelas, “why is it the people who should be ashamed of their bodies are the ones who wanna flaunt it all the fucking time?”
“I d
on’t know, Todd,” I mused as I looked at the naked and fat demon, “but I’m really glad he’s got that loincloth.”
“Speak for yourself, Jakey,” the imp shuddered. “One wrong move, and we’re all gonna see the whole bunch of bananas. Also, we really, reaaaallly need to clean whatever chair he decides to sit on. Or burn it. Either one works for me, bro.”
“Shhhh!” I hissed as Mammon grew closer. “We want him on our side, remember?”
The bulky Demon King waddled up to the empty chair, pulled it out, and then sat down slowly. The wood groaned underneath his weight, and for a moment I thought it was going to explode into a million pieces. Mammon placed his bag of wealth down onto the table, shifted in his chair, and then surveyed the room. He lifted his hand into the air, and the buzzing instruments stopped. Now, all that we could hear was the sound of his heavy, labored mouth breathing.
“So,” he mused in a deep, nasally voice, “this is what has become of Azazel’s castle. I must admit, it looks better than I thought it would.”
“We’re honored to have you here, Mammon,” I announced.
The yellow demon raised his bushy eyebrow at Asmodeus and then did a loud scoff.
“So honored to have me here that the King of the First Circle couldn’t even get his ass out of a chair and come here in person?” he retorted. “What’s the matter, Asmodeus? Did one of your concubines get too rough with your asshole?”
“I’d mind your tongue if I were you, Mammon,” Asmodeus sneered. “At least I have concubines to fuck. What do you have, outside of your hand?”
Mammon slammed his hand down on the table angrily.
“How dare you!” he growled.
Oh, shit. I knew Demon Kings had giant egos, but I had no idea this meeting would get off to this bad of a start.
“Whoa, whoa, whoaaaaaa,” I said as I raised my hands. “How about we all just cool our jets, okay? We’re here to talk about an alliance, not to hurl insults at each other.”
“They warned me you were soft,” Mammon said as he stared me down with his dark red eyes, “but I didn’t want to believe it. Now, I’m startin’ to wonder.”
“Excuse me?” I shot back angrily. “I invite you into my domain, into my home, and you dare to call me ‘soft?’ I, the man who slayed the Leviathan and Vermis and tamed the Behemoth? I, the one who killed Azazel and took over his kingdom? The man who survived one on one combat with Beelzebub? You have the gall to call me ‘soft?’”
Mammon’s eyes narrowed, and for a second I wondered if we were going to have an all-out brawl in the middle of the dining hall.
Then he crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back, and laughed.
“That’s more like it,” he chuckled. “That’s the Demon King I’ve heard so much about. Now tell me, King of the Fourth Circle, who in the ever-lovin’ fuck are all these people? Other than fuckface over there.”
“Love you too, Mammon,” Asmodeus mocked with a kissing face.
Whew. Maybe this would work out after all.
I pointed down to Daniel, who sat all the way at the other end of the table.
“That is Daniel, one of my main generals,” I explained.
“Ahhhh,” Mammon said with amusement, “a Shade. Bold move, if I must say so.”
“And these are other generals, who also double as my succubi,” I continued as I motioned to the girls. “Of course, you probably remember them from when they served Azazel.”
“Shades and succubi as generals,” the yellow demon whistled. “I guess you’re a more ‘progressive’ Demon King, eh?”
“You could say that,” I agreed. “Is that going to be a problem?”
The King of the Second Circle just shrugged.
“Only time will tell,” he admitted.
“Anyway,” I continued as I pointed to the imp, “this is Todd, my right-hand man.”
“Don’t let him fool you, Jabba,” Todd added, “I’m the one calling the shots around here.”
I cringed for a second and hoped the demon wouldn’t recognize the nickname. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like he did.
Instead, he laid eyes on Eligor and gasped.
“I definitely know this one,” he said in awe. “You’re one of Lilith’s servants. Are you--is she … allied with Jacob Ralston?”
“I am allied with Jacob Ralston,” Eligor explained. “My mistress, as you know, remains loyal to only Lucifer.”
Mammon must have understood the knight’s implication, because he nodded vigorously.
“And what about this little tart over here?” he asked as he pointed at Ariel. “She looks far too innocent for Hell.”
“My name is Ariel,” she announced. “I’m an angel.”
“No shit?” Mammon questioned. “Did the King of the Fourth Circle take you prisoner?”
“Not at all,” the redhead said as she shook her head. “I chose to leave Heaven behind and follow Jacob of my own free will.”
“Well, hot damn,” the fat demon guffawed. “The rumors about you were true, King Ralston. Buuuut, can you live up to your true potential, or are you just a poser who got lucky?”
“I’m no poser,” I reassured him. “In fact, I--”
Mammon raised his chubby yellow hand to cut me off.
“Feast first,” he demanded, “then we can talk shop.”
“Fair enough,” I agreed with a nod. “Bring it all out, guys!”
A handful of Shades dashed onto the scene with silver platters in hand.
“You are in for a treat today,” Gula stood up and explained, “I was able to secure a delivery from Earth Realm, one that was about as high-quality as you can get.”
The Shades removed the lids of the platter to reveal our feast. On the largest platter sat a heap of snow crab legs that were almost as thick as my arm. They were bright red and smothered with some sort of seasoning, as well as an unhealthy amount of butter.
On the second platter was a bowl full of brussel sprouts covered with lemon zest and black pepper. The third and final platter consisted of fluffy mashed potatoes whose garlic aroma filled my nostrils with a delicious, succulent scent.
The three platters repeated all the way down the elongated table, and I could already tell Mammon was going to have more than his fair share.
The yellow demon was nearly panting as he stared down at the feast in front of him, and saliva dribbled out of the corner of his mouth.
“Gula made all this,” I explained. “She’s the best chef in all of Hell, so you’re all in for the best meal of your fucking lives.”
“It’s a shame I’m not here for this,” Asmodeus sighed. “Oh well. I’m going to be eating much better things once we’re done, if you catch my drift.”
“Looks like Asmodeus is dinin’ at the Y tonight, Jakey,” Todd snickered as he picked up a handful of mashed potatoes and then shoved them into his mouth. “And by ‘the Y’ I mean ‘the YMCA,’ if you are picking up what I’m putting dow—”
“Dude,” I interrupted under my breath. “We are trying to get these guys to work with us, not insult their sexual preferences. Also, don’t you want to use a spoon?”
“Nah, I’m good Jakey,” he reassured me through a mouthful of potatoes. “It’s scientifically proven the quickest path between food and the stomach is your hand.”
That didn’t sound right, but I wasn’t going to try and dispute it.
“You brought Earth food down for our feast?” Mammon said, though his voice was distorted by the drool. “I’m impressed, King Ralston.”
The yellow demon picked up one of the larger crab legs, popped the end open like a funnel, and then sucked the meat out like he was slurping down soup. Then he let out a loud belch, tossed it to the side, and went back for more.
I grabbed one of the legs off the plate in front of me, cracked it open and then picked out the meat with my fork. As I raised it to my mouth, I caught a whiff of whatever type of boil Gula had used. It had a twinge of pepper, celery seed, and paprika, all mixed to
gether with a hint of exotic spices I couldn’t identify. The second the crab hit my taste buds, it felt like there was an explosion of flavor on my tongue.
My eyes rolled back into my head as I devoured the buttery, chewy, seasoned meat of the crab, and then I forked one of the brussel sprouts. These things were cooked to perfection, just soft enough to be edible, but not mushy like so many people ended up making the vegetable. It was doused with a lemon-pepper seasoning, so it had a zesty flavor to counterbalance the bitterness of the green itself.
“Gula,” I said with a grin, “you’ve definitely outdone yourself this time.”
“You say that every time I cook for you,” the redheaded succubus chuckled. “I’m starting to think you’d claim the same thing if I made you spit-roasted Vargrat.”
“I’m sure you could find a way to make it amazing,” I shrugged, “so yeah, I probably would.”
“This is an interesting dynamic,” Mammon observed through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “Your succubi are your equals?”
“They are,” I confirmed. “I don’t believe in all the hierarchical bullshit Lucifer likes to spew. I believe everybody is worth something, they just have to figure out what makes them valuable.”
Mammon and Asmodeus both looked at each other for a second, and then they burst out laughing.
“That’s a good one,” Mammon chuckled. “I’ll have to use that sometime.”
I should have known. These two may have been my potential allies, but they were still Demon Kings. They’d been torturing Shades and enslaving succubi for literally hundreds of thousands of years.
I doubted I’d be able to change their entire perspective over the course of a single dinner.
“I’m surprised I’m the only one who showed up,” Mammon observed. “I would have figured at least one other Demon King would have RSVPed.”
“I believe we are the only ones who have not decided to be against Jacob,” Asmodeus spoke up.
“That’s not quite true,” I added. “I haven’t heard from Belphegor at all, and I’m pretty sure Abbadon is a ‘chaotic neutral’ in this situation.”
