The Damned and The Pure Series: Books 1-4 (The Damned and The Pure Series Box Set)

by J. D. Stonebridge

  Ariel had a glint in her eyes. As soon as the bolt of lightning faded, Ariel grabbed Caelum’s suit and pulled him back. She called on the light nearby and shifted their position. They appeared in a diner a few streets away that was littered with shards of glass and overthrown tables and chairs. The angel dragged the demon across the room and threw him against a wall.

  Caelum hit the wall with an oof before saying, “Is this really the right time for this, my dear?”

  “Enough of your silly ramblings.” Ariel jabbed a finger into his chest. Her blue eyes shone against the dimly lit diner, filled with fury. “You were considering something earlier, were you not?”

  Caelum assumed a poker face. “Well, I—”

  “What you intend to do, your insane plan to enter Purgatory, is suicidal!” Ariel reminded him. “You must not do this.”

  The demon’s poker face melted into a serious one. “Does it really matter when we are at war? I could die so easily battling against your former team, you know. Besides, don't you think this is the perfect time now that the global massacre has begun the day before the solstice? It pretty much won't matter anymore if I let the horses out. At least we can take control of the situation again."

  Ariel glared at him. “It will be pointless. It is impossible for you to accomplish such a thing.”

  “Well, there goes my dignity," Caelum muttered.

  "Caelum!" Ariel shouted, growing impatient with his antics. She looked him in the eye, desperate to get the message through his head. "Caelum, we all know what you plan to do is dangerous and very unlikely to be successful. Your vessel won't be strong enough to carry all that power. You will only end up killing yourself."

  "And how different is it compared to fighting this hopeless battle?" Caelum challenged her.

  The angel's eyes cast down, away from him. She took a step forward and rested the top of her head against his chest. She had never shown him this vulnerability. It was as though she was accepting defeat. Then, she took a shaky breath, and Caelum saw her shoulders rise and slump.

  "Ariel?" He placed his arms around her shoulders, but she quickly shook them off her. Ariel took a step back from him, then lunged at him again. She swung her fist at his face, and Caelum’s head snapped to the side at the impact. He cradled his bruised cheek as he looked back at the angel who was furious, tears glistening in her eyes.

  "If we die, we die fighting! If we die here, we die together! Is that not enough for you?" Ariel shouted. "If you leave, what assurance do you have that we will see each other again? How can we be certain that we will see this to the end? Yes, what we are doing now may be futile, but I am still fighting because I do not wish to give up. And I am fighting for you, for Daniel and Gabriel, for David and Jenny, and for Mikaela's memory! But what you claim as your ingenious plan is utterly ludicrous and suicidal. I am beginning to think this is just your self-destructive way of redeeming yourself! As if after everything, you're putting that pride of yours first even if it means you will lose what you have left!"

  Caelum’s eyes looked away from the angel as she jabbed her finger in his chest with every statement. Slowly, he pushed himself up, standing tall in front of her. When his eyes darted back to her, Ariel almost cowered in fear at the anger in his eyes. In that moment, Ariel was reminded what Caelum was. A demon. He’d never portrayed the same murderous presence of one before, excluding that time with Lilith. But his face was all demon now.

  "Ariel," he said her name sweetly, "I am disappointed at how little you think of me."

  Ariel tilted her head to the side. "Pardon?"

  Caelum stepped forward, making Ariel step back. "Do you honestly think that what I am doing is for my own sake? Do you think that I am willing to offer my life just so I can say I finally did something right?"

  Ariel's back hit the counter; Caelum cornered her. But when he leaned over her, his eyes melted to sadness. "After I saw what Lilith had done to you and to Mikaela, all I could think of was how useless I had become, unable to protect those I cared for. That feeling still lingers inside me, especially after I offered myself to Azazel and still let my daughter die! It's all I've been worrying about. How can I make things right again? And it's not because I want redemption but because I'm afraid! I'm afraid of seeing all of you perish and let Mikaela's sacrifice be in vain while I stand on the sidelines and watch!

  "So I'm going to do everything that I can to keep that from happening. I know the risks of what I want to do, but that's the only thing I can do that has any shot of preventing Lucifer's Disneyland from happening. And I don't give a damn if I die, I don't give a bloody Hell if I fail, but I'm going to die anyway so I might as well try! Because I won't stand here and let everything we've done so far go to waste!"

  His breath hitched at the final word. The message he conveyed hung heavy in the air and in their hearts. Ariel looked down at her feet, feeling the shame of her previous assumptions.

  Hesitantly, she moved closer to Caelum and tugged on his shirt. Softly, she spoke a fear she had not wished to voice out.

  "I will not be there. I will not be there to protect you. And I will not be there if..." Her voice trailed off, but it was enough for him to understand.

  Caelum placed a hand on her face and pulled her to an embrace. He held her right in his arms, caressing her hair. "Why must you assume I will fail before I start? You must give me credit; I've defied the odds many times already."

  "I'm afraid."

  "I know you are," Caelum said. "But you must place your faith in me, as I put mine in you." He released her and looked at her in the eyes. "I know it's a bit cheesy but hey, the world is ending so this might be my last chance to be the romantic fool."

  A smile and a small laugh escaped Ariel, and the sight of her smile twisted his heart. "I swear to you like how I had sworn my soul to Hell, I will not let anything stop me from returning to you. We will see the end of this story together."

  Ariel looked up to him with sadness. "A demon cannot break his contract, can he?" Caelum nodded. "Then, I accept your promise." The angel reached up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her lips on his.

  A whirlwind of fear and comfort, sadness and glee, and passion and desperation encircled the angel and demon as they shared that moment. All Caelum could do was not to let his purpose falter, knowing there was a chance it might be their last kiss. The demon reminded himself over and over what his reasons were, and so, with a heavy heart, Caelum set out to speak to the Angel of Death.

  "I have been expecting your call," Azrael greeted him.

  "Oh?" Caelum raised his brows. "Have you missed me?"

  "I see what is happening to the world, and I believe I know what you wish to ask of me. Despite my worries, I have no choice but to consider your services."

  "Down to business already, I see," Caelum said, burying his hands in his pockets. "Well, the world is crumbling as we speak while dawn will come soon. What do you say to my proposal, dear Guide of Souls?"

  Azrael's crimson eyes stared into the demon. "I see courage and purpose in you, Caelum, and I admire that."

  Azrael turned her back on him, and the wind picked up as she stretched her hand into the darkness. The wind gathered in front of her, swirling into a distorted image that slowly glowed from black to grey and indigo.

  "I grant you passage, demon."

  Chapter Eleven: Conquest

  Purgatory was a place that no other being apart from Azrael and the departed souls had reached. As Caelum stepped into the swirling violet portal, his mind raced with images of what he assumed to be the land he was about to enter. He had read countless references about the world between, learning how it was a precursor to Hell or Heaven, where souls were sorted depending on their sins. Would it be just like Heaven? Or perhaps like Hell, but with less fire? Perhaps an empty void where some manner of being will sort you out.

  It was far more different than Caelum had imagined. When his vision passed the swirl, he was greeted by a place no different
than Earth. Below his feet was grass, though it was robbed of its verdant glow. Instead, it had a quiet grey hue. The same could be said of the trees that surrounded him. Caelum saw different kinds of trees: pines, gnarled cherry trees, and a variety of willows. The trees all shared shades of grey, their leaves almost the same if not for a slight tint of brown.

  This dull display caused a strange depression in his being. Purgatory was a lifeless, gray garden. It was empty, which surprised him. Shouldn’t there be a soul or two keeping me company right now? He looked around, at least expecting the Angel of Death to have accompanied him, but her presence was nowhere to be found. And here I thought we had an agreement.

  To his surprise, a white being glowed in the distance. The grass rustled at a light breeze that blew on Caelum’s face. The white glow grew in intensity, and soon, a figure bathed inside this contrasting light appeared. Riding on a white horse, the being approached. It was clad in gleaming gold metal armor and an immaculately white cloth that was weaved around its body. The being’s garb reminded Caelum of the early medieval knights, but it wore a helmet with a crown that was not to be outshined. The crown bore gleaming gemstones and assorted baubles. Its royal appearance was almost enough to make the demon bow, but his fascination got the better of him.

  “Who are you?” he asked as the being neared. Comfort and grace radiated from the being with a sense of assurance and warmth that could match that of his beloved angel. I almost want to confess my love!

  It did not speak. It only kept its slow pace as it approached him. Its glorious glow of light slowly vanished, but its golden armory was a great contrast with the dull world. Caelum swallowed and asked again, “Who are you?”

  “Who stands before you is the Holy Spirit, the first of the Horsemen.” Its voice echoed across the lifeless land. To Caelum, the being’s voice sounded like a young man and a young woman speaking in harmonious chorus. “Hail, Demon. Who stands before the Holy Spirit?”

  Caelum couldn’t help but dust his sleeves, straighten his collar, and palm his hair. He took a breath and introduced himself. “Who stands before you is a fool who opened the gates of Purgatory in a half-minded attempt to save the world from Lucifer,” he said with a smile on his face, then added, “The name is Caelum, or if you prefer the name I was first bestowed with —”

  “Cornelius Wells,” the Horseman finished, making Caelum tilt his head. The Horseman tilted its head up as if in thought. “Once there was he who, blessed by me, shall spread the message of our Lord. Such is the man who stands before the greatest bearer of the word.”

  “You know who I was?” he pried. Caelum pondered each word the Holy Spirit spoke, and a faint memory came to him. “So, when you say you blessed me, does that mean you were the one who assigned me to be a prophet?”

  “He who stands before me was blessed by me.”

  Caelum took the repeated message as a yes. “Well then, Holy Spirit, with all due respect, I'm here because I need to stop Lucifer from taking the inhabitants of this land. It would really be great if you could help me. To be honest, I had all the courage but little of the idea on how to do it.”

  The faceless Horseman remained silent at his remark, making the demon rub the back of his neck in awkwardness.

  That feeling was suddenly broken by a presence that appeared behind Caelum. His eyes widened in delightful surprise as he saw the raven black hair and stoic face of the Angel of Death. “Azrael!” Caelum chirped, welcoming the well-timed distraction. “And here I thought you had abandoned me so easily.”

  “I am to walk with you to achieve your goal,” the angel said.

  In Purgatory, Caelum was gifted the sight of the Angel of Death’s true form. Her presence retained the regality worthy of the keeper of the balance, but her wings had become prominent to his eyes. They were raven black like her hair, and their number was countless, stretching high and wide all around her. Azrael folded all her wings down until they vanished behind her and, following the display, she bowed her head at the presence of the Horseman. Azrael greeted, “Hail to the highest, to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” Her greetings made Caelum realize how disrespectful he’d been, but all he could do was flash a tasteless smile at the holy being.

  The Horseman nodded, acknowledging the angel’s tidings. “Cornelius,” the being called, making Caelum jump. “Why have you not spread the word of our Lord? Regale me of thy past. I shall see as you see, and I shall judge thee. I shall walk in thy steps, see the hardships and woes. Fill my cup with thy tears and I shall turn it into wine of the most bountiful vine.”

  Caelum was taken aback, surprised by the way he was scolded. As the Horseman requested, his eyes drifted up, remembering the red journal that his past self left for his future self. The words came together in his memory; the small poetry at the beginning of each page, the stories of his journey and interactions with the kind strangers that had offered him assistance to the nightmares that had warned him of the days beyond.

  Caelum found himself looking at his mortal self, Cornelius, as he was writing the entry in his notebook. He took the opportunity to both admire his human self who bore the same face he presented now and pity for what he had become inside. I was afraid, confused and naive.

  He could feel the Horseman’s presence behind him and, like a stern supervisor, critically replied, “The words of the divine have reached thee, yet thou hath chosen to keep it to thyself.”

  “One must forgive me for my lack of courage. I was a mere mortal then, alone in the world, and did not wish for the fate of a prophet,” Caelum deflected, but then cringed as he realized his rude tone. “I'm sorry. To be honest, I don’t remember much of this. So all I can say is that I was weak.”

  “To renounce pride is to welcome love,” the Horseman’s voice said, giving Caelum the idea that the Holy Spirit somehow patted him at the back.

  In an instant, the imagery around them changed to that of a barn. Caelum now looked at Cornelius perched comfortably on a stack of hay. He quietly fiddled with his writing tool as his other hand held the notebook. Caelum could tell that his past self was going through a lot, based only on how knotted the man’s eyebrows were. It’s no different than my look when I read that very same journal. The memory brought him sadness, remembering how Mikaela had helped him connect to his past self by rescuing the pages from the damages of time.

  “Family.” Caelum sighed. “That entry was partly about me missing my family. Perhaps I was regretting that I wasn’t able to cherish them as much,” Caelum remembered. Through the pages of that journal, he’d learned of the family he had forgotten. Of the father who’d cared for him as much as judged him for being a man of words, of the mother who loved him so dearly and would say his nickname sweetly, of the brother he was at odds with who went to war instead of caring for his sibling, and even his would-have-been younger sister, if a disease had not struck his pregnant mother before she was born.

  Caelum watched his past self put the journal inside his pocket and close his eyes, returning to his makeshift bed. To his surprise, an ethereal light slowly descended near the sleeping man. Its light did not illuminate the walls of the barn, but Caelum could feel an incandescent and familiar warmth. Ariel?

  “To welcome love is to welcome God,” said the Horseman. “In the darkness of thy soul, a messenger heeded not the law of heaven. For she had felt love. Does thou not find it unbecoming?”

  “Unbecoming?” Caelum repeated. “I think I find it twisted how God claims equal love for all, but punishes those whose only sin was to love another.” Upon saying the words, Caelum realized another thing. He understood why Lucifer had disobeyed the law of Heaven and descended upon the world below. The thought was quickly brushed away by his own sense of urgency. He turned to face the Horseman, and as he turned, the ground he stood on turned back into the grey garden. The Horseman and its horse stood stoically and beside it, Azrael looked at Caelum with a sense of wonder.

  “What bothers you?” Azrael asked, watching
Caelum’s mixed expression of nostalgia and conflict.

  Caelum waved his hand. “Nothing.”

  He folded his hands and gave the Horseman a stern gaze. He opened his mouth and let out his thoughts, clear that he was bothered by them. “Why didn’t God allow the angels to show their love for us? Think about it. If they did, wouldn’t the world be a better place? I mean, angels spreading the good word, and people who love them listen then convince everyone else who doesn’t believe that there is a higher power who displays love in the way the angels do.”

  His philosophical banter was halted as the horse let out an exhale. Its breath was of black mist that disappeared into wisps. The demon pouted, thinking he’d angered the being. “Such a world is ideal.” The rider snorted. The next few seconds of silence made Caelum squint in choked anticipation.

  “Well?” Caelum impatiently asked. “Why didn’t it happen?”

  Azrael bowed her head and helped Caelum realize his own statement. “That ideal resulted in the very situation we are in.”

  “For He did allow it,” the Horseman continued. “Never has He warded His love to be shared.”

  But Lucifer abused it, Caelum thought to himself, and his face twisted in all manner of creases and frowns until he sighed and let his hands out. “I don’t get it. Sure, we peered into my runaway past, and you did answer that angels are free to love. All I can see in between is that it’s—”

  Caelum’s face changed to shock at the next thought that came to him. His mind had convinced him that had love been allowed for the angels, his failures might have been pardoned eventually and he would have had the opportunity to live beside the angel who comforted him in his grievances. But the nagging voice at the back of his mind forced him to see what he had been denying all along. It was love that had started all of this.

  “So, had I fulfilled my little prophet of Heaven task, none of this would have happened? Ariel would have done her task and left, and the archangels would have been denied the opportunity to free Lucifer from his cage in the first place,” he asked. Azrael remained indifferent to the question, but the Horseman stepped closer to him and placed its hand out, palm up.