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

by J. D. Stonebridge

  The message made Caelum smile. “Hey, it’s heaven for you. Do you not want to be fed for eternity?”

  “But,” Power suddenly interjected, “I want power to destroy Lucifer! I want the pleasure to take down the first!”

  Caelum couldn’t help but feel a pang of sentiment over the twisted being. “So, you hunger for the blood of our great adversary, Lucifer?”

  “YES!” he shouted again, his pout turning into anger.

  Caelum shook his head with a smile. “You’re actually growing on me here, buddy.” He placed his hand on Power’s shoulder and grinned. “Well, I'm you and you are me, right?”

  Power looked at him curiously. “Yes?”

  Caelum nodded. “So, if I were to defeat Lucifer, that also means you have defeated Lucifer, right?”

  Power dropped his head. “Yes, I suppose.” His voice held a tinge of sadness.

  “So it will be fine. Plus, if you go with him, you won’t get bored, unlike when I'm not fighting.”

  Power turned to Famine who was patiently waiting for his decision. Suddenly Caelum felt two arms push on his chest, and he fell on his back. “Hey!” Power pointed at Caelum with a grin. “YOU GAIN POWER! YOU KILL LUCIFER! IF YOU DIE, I WILL EAT YOU!”

  Caelum couldn’t help but giggle. He watched as Power turned his back and dissipated once again into black mist. The mist swirled and dove into the void in Famine’s head.

  When Caelum rose, Famine neared him. “You have my gratitude, demon.” After that, Famine started to walk away. His dry voice echoed in the tunnel as he gave his parting statement.

  “And so…men will cry...O Lord, holy and true...will you not judge…those who dwell in the world…and avenge us...to those who spilled our blood?”

  Caelum mulled over Famine’s statement. Before he stepped into the white wall of mist in front of him, he wondered for a moment how much blood had been spilled in the mortal world.

  In Kansas, a lawyer by the name of Edgar Morty hid in his own room while his family was slaughtered by a seraph. He listened in fear as his wife’s scream pierced through the walls. He held his sorrow in check as his baby’s crying turned into a loud, but thankfully brief, screech. In the silence that followed, he slowly crawled into a large closet and sealed himself inside. He could hear the angel’s footsteps as it walked up the stairs. The steps neared until he heard a crash, most likely his door. He cupped his mouth to mask his heavy breaths. The steps stopped, and after a few seconds, moved away from his hiding spot. Edgar sighed with relief.

  Light suddenly burst in his vision as the closet door exploded. Tears escaped his eyes as a glowing Seraph stood before him. The angel raised his blade to strike the man, but before it could, the man screamed.

  “Please! Spare me! I can tell you where the others are hiding! I was just about to take my family there. Please. Just…just...grant me mercy!”

  The seraph tilted his head, interested in the man’s offer. The angel grabbed his hand and pulled him up. “Tell me where they hide. I shall decide from there.”

  Under a flood tunnel, several people huddled and remained silent. Rosary beads were scattered across the floor, suggesting that one of them had renounced their faith. In the darkness, they comforted each other.

  The scene changed as a blinding flash of light filled the room. Everyone shrieked and shouted as a seraph appeared at the end of the tunnel. Several more appeared on the other side, blocking their escape. They watched as the angel pushed a man in front of him. Edgar saw the terrified faces of the people; most of them were his neighbors.

  “This man!” the seraph announced, “has asked to be spared, and in exchange, he has betrayed you and revealed you to us!”

  Edgar pursed his lips, his eyes filled with guilt as the people gazed at him with anger and hatred.

  “He shall be first!”

  Edgar gasped at the betrayal and screamed in agony as the seraph’s burning blade landed on his shoulder. The seraph didn’t slash, instead, it slowly carved through, making sure he did not slice the heart and spine. The blade exited, leaving a large, burning gap on Edgar’s right side. As he fell to the floor, convulsing in pain, he watched as the seraph sliced and burned the people around him.

  Death was slow to take Edgar, but he was glad of its arrival. The angels had slaughtered all of the people, their blood leaving no stains on the seraphim. Edgar’s final thought was that this was the end of the world. The death of all mankind.

  Corpses were scattered in all manners of death. Ariel could neither save them nor keep the seraphim at bay. She jumped off a building as three seraphim attempted to attack her, and as she landed on the street, she saw Caelum squaring off with four more. She noticed that he was unscathed. She’d suffered a blow and a few scratches, but Caelum’s dark blue suit only had a light layer of dust and dirt. One seraph met its demise as Caelum skillfully guided the Zound into its waist. But as soon as he did, the other seraph kicked him as another pinned him down, its blade ready to stab him.

  “Caelum!” Ariel shouted. Caelum managed to jerk his hip to the side, and the blade missed by a hair. He tried to stab him with his blade, but the seraph parried, flinging the blade away.

  “Ariel!” Caelum shouted. “Let me borrow the spear!”

  Ariel couldn't give any time for thought as another seraph approached, about to stab Caelum. In a flash, she brought her arm back and slung the spear. It spiraled like a bullet and hit the seraph pinning Caelum down. Upon the seraph’s fall, Caelum rose up, grabbed the spear, and did a spinning blow, slicing the torso of the approaching angel, then he used the momentum to lunge at the last seraph, hitting its stomach.

  Caelum grinned then threw the spear back to Ariel. The spear spun but was easily caught. “Thanks, Ariel.” he sighed. “Are there more?”

  “Yes...” Ariel nodded, looking at Caelum with an air of doubt. A memory lingered of the last time Caelum had held the spear when he’d ended the immortal life of Lilith. She had seen his hands burn against the holy weapon, but now it did not. Have I expended this spear’s power?

  Caelum ran towards Ariel, picking his blade up as he did. “Ariel, do you have any more plans to stop Lucifer or Michael?”

  Ariel shook her head, her expression unsure.

  “Great…” Caelum sighed sarcastically. “I’m out of ideas on how to deal with them as well.”

  Though the resistance of those who remained on the mortal realm fell short, the denizens of Hell had certain matters arranged.

  “Are you sure he’ll accept our deal?” Baron asked, looking concerned.

  Both Azazel and Baron stood atop the roof of the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, a small blood sigil burning on their feet. The space in front of the two started to distort, and with a great flash of light, Lucifer’s form stood before them.

  “It has been so very long since someone erected a proper summoning sigil to call me,” he mused. He looked at Azazel and Baron, surprise briefly flickering in his eyes. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Azazel flashed a smile and stepped forward with all the confidence of an aggressive salesman. “Hello, Lucifer. You see, we’ve been loyal to you, and I thought that meant something. Sadly, as I see the events of present times, it gives me the idea that it doesn’t seem so. Therefore, I’m here to sweeten our little deal.”

  “Azazel,” Lucifer said with a smile, “you were always the best when it comes to commerce. I am open to negotiation. Come, what have you for me?”

  “First,” Azazel replied, “what we want is a place in your new kingdom. Of course, that means Baron and I will be spared.”

  “And in exchange?” Lucifer inquired.

  “We give you all the remaining souls of Hell and all its forces,” Azazel pushed.

  “An interesting proposition,” Lucifer answered, making Azazel slightly smile. “But a proposition I will refuse.”

  This left Azazel slack-jawed in disbelief. “Why? You will have control of Hell itself!”

  Lucifer raised his palm, a
quaint smile still drawn on his face. “I have no need of such, for Michael’s forces are enough to deal with the mortals and with your forward forces. When I attain the throne of God, there shall be no Hell, there shall be no suffering after death. I, therefore, have no need of you.”

  “Why you…” Azazel gritted. “What were we to you then?”

  Lucifer’s placid smile turned serious. “Your existence is to make humans suffer, you were willing pawns to me, and here you are, willing to give all you have for a fleeting hope of continuing to torture souls.

  “Also,” Lucifer added before Azazel could reply, “I can take all the souls of Hell when I have obtained all the souls in Purgatory.”

  Azazel slowly backed away, minding Lucifer’s gleaming eyes. Just as Lucifer waved his hand to summon light, Baron suddenly slammed his foot on a sigil behind him, and both he and Azazel sank into an expanding sheet of shadows below them.

  Chapter Fourteen: Call

  Caelum watched Famine disappear into the distance, wondering what fate awaited his alter ego. He found himself alone in the tunnel with the white wall of mist behind him. He wondered what would happen next. The last Horseman is Death, and here I am hesitating. It seemed like the Horsemen were, in fact, helping him in his quest. Two gifts from the first and the second, then the third one took Power, a potentially unstable factor if ever Caelum successfully gathers all the souls. He turned to face the mist and mustered up all that was left of his will. With a deep breath, he took a step.

  As his vision moved through the wall of mist, a strangely familiar scene welcomed him. It was Mikaela’s old home, the quaint house atop a small hill that oversaw a placid meadow. The grayness of the scene only made him feel the sting of her loss even more.

  He wandered towards the front of the home. In his head, he imagined that if he opened the door, she would be there to welcome him. Likely with flying utensils, books, and other things to clonk him in the head but followed with that meaningful stare of hers. His feelings of nostalgia soon twisted into a pang of rage and regret. He remembered the events almost a month ago when the archangels Uriel and Raphael had descended. After all their effort, they’d won but with her life as the greatest cost.

  Caelum’s thoughts were interrupted as the sound of rustling grass softly broke the silence. He turned and was taken aback by the sight.

  Riding a pale horse, a beautiful woman wearing a long flowing dress rode the horse with both legs to one side. She had silky golden hair that spilled down her back, and her skin was of the creamiest tone. Her peach lips and crystal blue eyes complemented her round face that was too familiar. The demon raised a brow at the realization that she was the spitting image of Azrael who contrasted her with raven black hair and crimson eyes. Caelum straightened himself, for he was looking at the last Horseman, Death.

  Death neared him but remained silent. She gifted him with a placid smile, leaving Caelum charmed. So much for the dark and scary Grim Reaper. In the presence of Death, Caelum recalled how many times he had dodged death, how he had lived a somewhat immortal life and never yearned for an end.

  From the moment he’d turned into a demon, for the sake of seeing his beloved angel, he had evaded death. The battle of the supernatural beings led by Ramiel had made him feel the claws of death swipe at him in more ways than one. He laughed when he recalled the moment he dove into the very pits of Hell, risking his soul to save Ariel. If it wasn’t for Mikaela’s little contraption, he would have succumbed to nothingness after being struck down by Lucifer. Even more, he had faced death when he’d become mortal again, facing a plethora of mortal needs and the issue of his soul dissipating. If that was not enough, he’d had the courage to face an archangel and even stand in the way of Lilith.

  Of all the times he’d escaped Death’s reach, he always met a worse fate. He glanced at the house again and reminded himself that there were things in this world that just could not be undone.

  Caelum felt a breeze that carried a familiar scent. He turned and his face melted into rue. He couldn’t hold his tears the sight of his daughter.

  “Mikaela.”

  The woman’s spirit stood in front of him. Though she was in a ghostly, mist-like form, her beauty and tranquil smile could still be seen. Caelum reached for her, wanting to touch her face, yearning to hug her. Death’s horse exhaled, and with light steps, turned and started to walk. Mikaela did the same, turning away from Caelum’s reach.

  “Wait!”

  But as Caelum stood there in confusion, Mikaela’s spirit turned her head and smiled at him. He could almost hear her message, her voice peaceful and happy.

  Aren’t you coming?

  The demon’s longing shifted to sudden joy. He was already chuckling. He began to walk with them with his spirits lifted. As he reached Mikaela, her hand gently touched his, and her fingers held on. Her fingers felt warm to him, just like the days when Mikaela was but a child. She would hold his hand when they would take a stroll outside, as if never wanting to stray from his side.

  As they walked, the scene changed from Mikaela’s house to the town where Maxwell had once lived. To Caelum’s surprise, as they walked the empty, grey concrete, several ghosts appeared from the street corners and followed them. A few moments later, the scene waved into another area, the destroyed church where Ramiel had captured Ariel. More spirits appeared and followed him. The journey continued further, from the place where the Tenney family had lived to every town he had spent any time in this chaotic part of his life.

  As the last town vanished from his sight, the one place that stabbed his heart the most appeared before him. Area 51, where the battle with Uriel, Raphael, and Lilith had ensued. The place was quiet, and just like the time after Uriel’s death, the place was clear, with only the hole from Hell present.

  To his surprise, the souls that had followed him had gathered by the millions. Faces of every manner surrounded him, filling the entire expanse. In the clearing where Mikaela, Death, and Caelum stood, silence followed. Caelum looked at Death who had a serious exoression. Caelum felt the crown on his head grow warm. With all the spirits of the deceased and fallen gathered around him, he realized what was about to happen.

  Mikaela turned to him, her eyes softly gleaming. She threw herself at her father, embracing him as tightly as she could. Caelum held her so tightly that he never wanted to let go. He felt his heart melt as he heard Mikaela’s voice.

  “I love you, Dad.”

  Caelum didn’t feel sorrow. The tears that would have flowed did not. Instead, an overwhelming happiness washed over him. He had reached his goal. He understood what he needed to do, and thanks to all the Horsemen before, his mind was cleared of doubt.

  Death’s gentle voice filled the land.

  “Thanks was given, and praise for the wrath that came, the dead were judged, and the faithful were rewarded.”

  As Caelum’s goal had succeeded, the events outside of Purgatory had a similar pace. Lucifer appeared in Heaven, seeing Michael standing at the podium where Gabriel had started the rebellion. With an air of satisfaction, he appeared before Michael and smiled. “Brother Michael. Your task has come into fruition. All humans, spare a few who tremble in your wrath, have perished.”

  Michael nodded. “It is time. It is finally time. Our rise to becoming the new God is upon us.”

  Lucifer watched as Michael disappeared. A moment later, a small sphere of darkness appeared before Lucifer. “Ah, Umbra, my dear,” he cooed. “Have you completed your task?” Lucifer’s face lit up. “Wonderful! Take a rest, my beloved. We shall play once more, but at a later time.” Umbra disappeared and left Lucifer wondering what went on in Michael’s thoughts.

  Michael appeared at the Garden of Heaven. The Garden was as silent as ever, and as he undid the seal that blocked Scott’s escape, he stepped forward with a puffed chest and a heart full of yearning joy. It is time.

  He walked with strong strides across the grass. Fallen leaves were pushed away in his wake as his aura brimmed wi
th energy. Scott was perched on the Tree, several butterflies and other colorful insects surrounding him.

  Scott felt a rumble as he saw Michael thrust his hand into the trunk of the Tree. The Tree shook, knocking Scott off. He crashed to the ground with a loud grunt. As soon as he found his bearings, he watched a spectacle.

  The large tree shook and trembled so badly it distorted the space around it. Michael stood tall, his hand plunged into the Tree, producing ripples like he had plunged his hand into water. Suddenly the ground shuddered, sending shockwaves across the entire garden. All the other trees shook, and all kinds of flower petals burst. To Scott’s sorrow, the grass turned brown, and all the plants and everything green began to wilt as if Michael was using the Tree to absorb the energy of the entire Garden.

  Scott scrambled up and away as the ground began to break. Huge cracks spread from the Tree and made the ground crumble. Scott managed to hang on to a different tree as his eyes saw yet another spectacle.

  The human world and its few remaining inhabitants paused as an event from above demanded their attention.

  Leviathan used his elongating arms and legs to stab angels around him. Some young men had screamed in fear as he’d tried to save them, shouting, “Slender man!” He fancied the name for some reason. He rolled out of the way as a cherub sent snakes in his direction. He opened his mouth that stretched farther than one would imagine, and in an instant, the cherub was caught in a vacuum. He chewed the cherub. His angelic mastication was halted when iridescent light poured from above.

  Beelzebub stood tall among the rubble of a building, watching demons fight with the seraphim. She prided herself on the armaments the demons under her wing possessed. Their hands distorted into pincer-like or claw-like forms, and all of them bore insect wings that gave them uncanny speed. The seraphim couldn’t be easily killed but neither were they, as some of the demons even adapted beetle-like armor. A seraph dropped behind her and drove its burning sword to her shoulder. The attack connected, but Beelzebub stood, uncaring. She turned, and the mask that covered her mouth broke, releasing a grotesque sucker-like mouth that dove into the seraph’s face. The seraph wriggled as its body slowly dried to an empty shell. Beelzebub spat it out as she was blinded by a light from the sky.