Armageddon Bound ds-1

by Tim Marquitz

  “And God desires the end of world?”

  “It has long since become obsolete. The humans wage war under the guise of false gods, false beliefs. They pervert His holy texts with their petty schemes and defile the planet as well as each other. They commit atrocities in the name of God, which cannot be forgiven. They ravage the land, murder the children, and rape the tenets of His holy faith. Could He desire anything less?” He paused a moment, waiting for an answer. None came. “The time has come for a reckoning.”

  Rahim drew in a deep breath and let it out in a whistling sigh. “What would you have us do?”

  “Stand aside. Let the demons bring about their own end and allow Armageddon to move forward. This age is past. What stands before us is the true glory that God has promised. We will bask in the light of our Lord as Adam once did, knowing no evil, shame, or desire. At the end of our existence is yet another, more befitting our status as servants of the Lord.”

  Son of a bitch! It was right then I realized how Asmoday had been able to capture an angel for his little science project.

  Gabriel had done it for him.

  “You speak of treason yet you hand over one of your own to Asmoday in order to further your cause.”

  Rahim and Scarlett hissed in unison as what I’d said sunk in. It made perfect sense. I’m sure we were all surprised I was the one to figure it out. Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “Glorius serves willingly. He understands his sacrifice will be the catalyst that brings about Armageddon. He was honored to give up his life so God’s will could be realized.”

  “You sent Glorius to Asmoday?” Scarlett screamed at him. “He’s being tortured!”

  “Glorius serves God. His pain is nothing compared to that of the world. It will soon end, ushering in a new age unburdened by sin. He will be revered, as was Christ. He accepts this. He would have it no other way.”

  Scarlett just stared, unable to speak. I could, but for once, I decided not to. I didn’t have anything good to say.

  Rahim took the opportunity to step in. I could see by stiffness in his shoulders, the slight hunch in his stance, he was getting ready to fight. While I had always respected the man, his willingness to stand up to Gabriel earned him the ‘Biggest Balls of All Time’ award.

  “With all due respect, I cannot deny my heart, nor can I ask it of those who stand by my side.” He bowed, but his eyes never left Gabriel’s. “With God gone, I cannot in good faith follow the word of any who claim to speak for Him. It is to His word alone I must cling to and I have not yet heard His call for the end. I’m sorry, but I must stand against you.”

  “So be it, wizard. I know you to be a man of faith, but you have been led astray. I will look for you at the end of days where you will be given one final chance to stand up for your convictions, however errant they may be.” He nodded to Rahim. “It will be an honor to face you on the field of battle.”

  In silence, Gabriel lifted the body of his angelic companion and cradled him in his arms. Despite all our bluster, no one moved to stop him. He looked to us and I could see the disappointment in his eyes. He bowed his head and his mystical wings spread from his back. With one powerful flap, he sprung into the air, a cool breeze whipping about us in his wake. In a blink of an eye, he was out of sight, obscured by the dark night. I could hear the collective sighs of those around me.

  “We’re fucked.” I said it, but I knew everyone around me was thinking the same thing, albeit probably less crudely.

  Scarlett waved her hands about like she was having a seizure, clearly having a hard time coping with Page 120 all we’d learned. She turned away and I thought I heard a sob. I didn’t have time to check on her before she too leaped into the air and flew away. Once she was gone, I turned back to Rahim and Katon.

  “So, is my assessment correct?”

  Rahim didn’t respond, but Katon laughed. It was one of those laughs you usually associate with people who have lost their minds. I think Rahim was kinda surprised it didn’t come from me.

  “Gabriel’s involvement with Asmoday definitely ups the stakes,” Katon answered after he’d gotten his chuckles under control. “Even if we had Baalth’s full cooperation, we’d still be underpowered. I’ve yet to find where they’re keeping Glorius, so they’ve still got a card in play. For that matter, I’m not even sure taking him out would make a difference now. If what Gabriel said is true, he could just as easily find another angel to sacrifice himself.”

  Rahim interrupted. “Keep looking for Glorius. While I don’t know about what, I got the sense Gabriel wasn’t being entirely truthful. There’s some other piece to the puzzle we aren’t seeing.”

  “Angels lie?” I scoffed.

  Rahim ignored me. “Katon, return to the hunt. If we can at least delay their plans, it will give us the opportunity to seek out a more permanent solution.”

  The vampire nodded.

  Rahim summoned his energies, sending Katon away in an explosion of glistening energy. Rahim turned back to me. “While I’ve no specific directions to help guide you, keep mucking about and see what you can find.”

  “Mucking about? Is that the official term for what I do?” I gave him a dirty look. “Frank Trigg, professional mucker. He’s one bad mucker-trucker.”

  Rahim shook his head, a sly smile on his lips.

  “You are good at what you do, Frank. And what you do best is stumble upon trouble. I’d hardly call that a skill.”

  “Yeah, well…your grandfather was a goat herder. What would you know?”

  He laughed, his eyes sparkling. “At this point, I seem to know very little. That is why you are so very important. Amongst the ignorant, you are king.”

  He mimed setting a crown upon my head. “Find us something, Frank. We’re desperate,” he told me, his tone turning serious.

  “If only you were a woman, that kind of talk would really get me worked up.” I rolled my eyes, pushing aside the image of Rahim as a woman. I shuddered.

  He patted me on the shoulder, a genuine smile gracing his lips. “Be safe. Let me know what you find.”

  With that, he teleported away, leaving me behind with the wreckage and one hell of a case of the heebiejeebies.

  Alone, I took a moment to think, difficult as that was sometimes. I was used to being behind the eight ball. My entire devilish life had been built around the premise of getting screwed and not in a fun, porn star way. It was most often in the prison kind of way, getting sucker punched and waking up with a sore ass with some big guy named Bubba sitting on the bunk smoking a cigarette and heating up a branding iron. Mostly human, I had always been the underdog when it came to dealing with the demons and devils of Hell, but this was different. Caught up in a war where the combatants were an archangel and two of Lucifer’s top lieutenants, I felt like France. All I wanted to do was raise my arms and shout, “I surrender.” I was feeling way outclassed, but I had an idea.

  It wasn’t just a few of us who would suffer if Armageddon came to pass. It would be everyone, human, angel, and demon alike. So thinking, it was time to call up some reinforcements.

  Welcome to Hell

  Back at home, I stumbled inside, manacles in hand. Certain they’d come in handy at some point, I stashed them where they would be the most useful; the bedroom. I placed them in a box beneath the bed for safekeeping and quick access, right beside the jumbo tube o’ lube and my inflatable Jenna Jameson doll. One could never tell when the need to restrain a supernatural being might arise. I’d rather be safe than sorry.

  Just thinking about how I’d use them got my blood flowing. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just my crotch that was throbbing. My nose was killing me. So to fix that, I dug out a vial and took a sip of Lucifer’s blood. Within moments, I was healed and much happier for it. I wrapped the vial in a washcloth, to help protect it, and stuffed it in my pocket. I hoped it’d fair better than the last one. I couldn’t afford to keep losing the things. Finished with my healing, I peeled off my bloody shirt and examined the chain mail underneath. B
etween the hole blown in the shoulder and all the damage it’d taken when I was tossed through the walls, the chain shirt was barely hanging together. The links had begun to unravel. I pulled it off, realizing it wouldn’t do me much good in the shape it was in. And since I didn’t have time to meet up with my Medieval Renaissance pal to get it repaired anytime soon, I tossed it to the side. Regrettably, it was the only one I had. I slipped on a shirt and hoped I wouldn’t need the chainmail. My cynicism laughed at me.

  Cleaned up and as ready as I was gonna be, it was time to go.

  I went to the spare bedroom of my house and opened the door. Long ago, I had converted the room to accommodate something other than visiting relatives, something far more useful. I didn’t feel bad about it as the only family I had was Scarlett and it’s not like she would be popping in to stay over. Not willingly, at least. Painted all black, the room seemed to swallow what little light the bulb in the hallway gave off. On the floor was an engraved silver circle, surrounded by electric lights in the shape of candles. What I lacked in magical power, I made up for in ingenuity.

  Actually, it had been Lucifer’s idea. He had always been the brains of the operation. Anyway, I flipped the switch on the wall and the candles flickered to life. I shut the door, waited a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimness, then went and sat in the middle of the circle. I picked up the small knife, which lay on the floor, and took a deep breath as I glanced around the room, feeling a bit apprehensive. I felt weird. It had been quite a while since I’d been in here last. A fine layer of gray dust covered everything. I wondered if it would still work with Lucifer gone. I figured, what the hell? I didn’t really have anything to lose. It would work or it wouldn’t.

  I used the knife and poked a finger. After tossing the blade to the side, I reached down and squeezed a drop of my blood onto the circle, willing it to life. I immediately felt a surge of magical energy and saw the edges of the circle shimmer. I smiled as the gate came online, silently thanking my uncle for not taking all of his power with him.

  I closed my eyes and thought hard about my destination. Once I had it fully envisioned, I willed myself through the gate. In an explosion of energy and willowy blackness, I arrived a moment later. I was in Hell.

  The smell of burnt flesh and brimstone stung my nose as I drew in my first breath, grinning all the while. For all its notoriety, it felt good to be home. I glanced around the monstrous cavern halls to gain my bearing and smiled when I realized I’d appeared exactly where I intended to, the Sixth Plane. The circle had worked perfectly despite the trauma inflicted upon the dimensional walls. I wasn’t sure it would, but I was sure glad it had. Pessimism ran deep in me. I looked off in the distance and saw where I needed to be. Carved in black stone, and decorated in the gleaming white skulls of the enemies of its master, the castle cast an imposing shadow in the reddishyellow light. While glad to be back, I knew I didn’t have time to waste reminiscing, so I headed off. It only took me a few minutes to reach the castle, the roads and fields empty.

  That was a little disconcerting.

  It had been over fifty years since I’d been in Hell last, but I hadn’t imagined it would have changed so drastically in such a relatively short time. Normally, the Sixth Plane would be bustling with activity. As one of the more lenient Circles, the Sixth attracted the most adventurous of Hell’s denizens, which lent it an energy that couldn’t be found anywhere else. Culturally devoid and entirely lacking in morality, the carnival atmosphere prevailed. If there was something taboo you wanted to see, touch, taste, or fuck, the Sixth was where you went. There was very little that couldn’t be experienced there.

  I know most people would picture the entirety of Hell as being such a place, but that’s not true. In general, it’s an ordered society with a civilized, albeit somewhat tormented, populace. It’s not the rampant serpent’s nest of evil it’s made out to be. That’s all a story made up by the Church to keep the believers in line.

  There are, of course, those parts best left alone if you value your life and sanity. Places even the denizens of Hell would rather not think about, but as a whole,

  Hell is little different than Earth. It’s drier, hotter, and entirely subterranean, but otherwise pretty similar. It is, after all, populated by the same people. To see the Sixth so devoid of life was disturbing. I’d spent many raucous nights here sowing all manner of seeds. Today, it felt like I was visiting a grave. Lucifer’s departure had taken away more than just Hell’s leader. It had taken its spirit as well. I shuddered and returned my focus to the castle. I didn’t like the feelings that were being dredged up. Once at the castle’s gate, I called out. I stood there for several minutes twiddling my thumbs, but there was no reply. Worried the war had taken its toll on the seat of power of the Sixth, I called out louder. Once more, there was no response.

  Discouraged, I turned away from the gate and glanced out across the sputtering lava fields. They churned and bubbled in slow motion, the thick scent of sulfur from their gurgling exhalations tickled the back of my throat. I looked to the coal caves where those souls still serving penance would toil beneath the biting whip of the field masters. They too were empty, devoid of life. Even the sky seemed lifeless. The black clouds hung immobile, thick and threatening. It was as if Hell were holding its breath. Saddened, I looked once more to the gate. A pair of glowing red eyes stared back at me.

  “What is your business?” the wrinkled face that Page 128 peered down at me from the top of the wall asked. Startled, it took me a second to answer. “I’ve come to see the duke.” The door guy must have been new. He didn’t seem to recognize me. Admittedly, it had been a while since I’d stopped by. I guess I couldn’t hold it against him.

  “He’s not to be disturbed.”

  “I need to speak to him. It’s of grave importance.”

  The servant seemed unmoved by my grandeur.

  “Nothing is of importance if the master does not declare it so. Go away.” He stepped away from the wall, out of sight.

  “I am Triggaltheron, nephew of Lucifer.” Though I hated dropping my uncle’s name like that, I needed inside. “I must speak with the duke.” I tried my best to sound important.

  I guess he wasn’t impressed, as he didn’t return. Fifty years ago, I’d have been let in so fast I’d have incurred whiplash. Today, my name and heritage didn’t carry enough wind to raise an ass hair. How quickly the past is forgotten.

  I sat there for a minute longer until I decided I wasn’t gonna be let in. I’d have to make other plans. Just as I turned to leave, I heard a loud clack and the gate began to slowly rise. I looked back to see the great double doors behind the gate pulling open. Once both had cleared the way, I saw the servant waving to me from inside. I hurried through before he could change his shriveled mind.

  Short, hunchbacked, and looking far too old and feeble to be of much use, the servant gestured for me to follow him. His sharp nose and disfigured arms made him look like an under cooked chicken. I doubted even Colonel Sanders would find him attractive. He hobbled along toward the main keep as I caught up.

  “So, you’re the fool who refused Satan’s offer to be the Anti-Christ?”

  That’s just what I needed, the help questioning my life choices. “Yeah well, the hours sucked and there weren’t any health benefits. What can I say? I could do better.”

  He looked at me like I’d just praised the Pope.

  “You utter such blasphemy.” A smile crept to his twisted, cracked lips. “It would explain why Lucifer held you in such high regard.”

  I think I blushed.

  We traveled the rest of the way in silence. At a pair of ornate double doors made of bone, we came to a stop. The servant tapped on the door and a basso welcome roared out. The doors swung open and I was ushered in.

  The room beyond looked suspiciously like a church. A great red carpet led down the center of the room, rows of red velvet chairs lined either side. At the far end was a raised dais, a monstrous throne on top. The subtl
e scent of singed meat hung in the air, wafting up from the fleshy candles, which circled the room. My stomach rumbled.

  Seated upon the throne was an old friend of my uncle, one of my mentors in the days when I lived in Hell. Duke Forcalor. He lifted his chin a bit and narrowed his eyes as I approached. He looked as regal as I’d remembered.

  Clothed in the finest silks, he seemed the paragon of comfort. His long white hair was tied back tight, lending him a youthful appearance. His cleanshaven, unlined face added to the illusion. He waved me forward, his eyes sparkling. He seemed glad to see me.

  “Come in, come in, young Trigg.” He remembered how much I hated my full name. It warmed my heart.

  “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you. How are you?” He gestured to a nearby chair.

  I gave a quick bow of respect, then dropped into the seat. “As well as I can be.” I tried not to sound too pessimistic. “How are you, my friend?”

  “I’m wonderful, just wonderful.” He looked me over, an eyebrow creeping up. “I sense a burgeoning strength within you.” He paused a second, examining me further. A bright smile lighted across his face.

  “You’ve blooded your hands.”

  Though I knew it was a compliment, I felt a hint of shame well up. “I hadn’t really intended to. This war…” I left my sentence hanging.

  He nodded. “It comes to us all, in its own time. Do not regret what you cannot control. Our existence is a violent one. We can do little about that. Relish what time you have and do not let your enemies dictate your emotions.”

  Forcalor had always been a soldier, but he longed for peace. He had acknowledged his role in life, though he would never accept it. Unlike the majority of demons, the duke took no pleasure in death, or in destruction. He held no animosity for the angels still on high. In fact, he envied them. He did only what he had to do to survive, nothing more. ‘Live and let live, lest the wolves come knocking at your door,’ he’d always said. And he’d meant it. That made my mission even harder.