by Tim Marquitz
“I thought so.” He shrugged, looking magnanimous. “What say you, Triggaltheron? Will you put away the hostility to see the most majestic sight to ever grace your mongrel eyes, or will you die like your companions, unheralded and alone?”
It really didn’t matter how I answered, the end result would be the same. I’d die and so would the world. My decision here would only alter the order of those two certainties by a matter of minutes. Did it really matter which happened first? I felt the weight of failure settle heavy on my shoulders. I pictured Abraham, held at gunpoint by Baalth, looking up at the darkening sky as Armageddon rolled in. I could imagine the disappointment in his eyes. It was heart-breaking. I thought of Rahim, lying in his bed, the use of his legs given up in the hopes of staving off the end. He would earn nothing for it but cold, unrelenting death. I’d failed them all. Scarlett had believed in me. She’d followed me to the depths of Hell and she’d died there, far from the bright lights of Heaven where she belonged. The saddest part was she wouldn’t even know her sacrifice had been in vain. Katon had done the same. Burned to ash while giving me a chance to save the world, he too died for nothing. I felt tears coming to my eyes. I didn’t bother to hold them back. If ever there was a time to cry now had to be it. Cold hard reality shivered down my spine as I clenched my guns tight. Ready for it all to be over, I looked up at Gabriel.
If this was the end, I was going out in a blaze of glory.
As our eyes met, I caught a glimpse of a shadowy form at the edge of my peripheral vision, just beyond Asmoday. I did my best to hide my reaction lest it show on my face. “Is it too late to join the winning team?” I asked, looking to keep the archangel’s focus on me. Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, sensing something afoot in my sudden change of attitude. A cry from Asmoday drew his attention before he could form a reply. He spun carefully, keeping his shield between us, his attention split.
From behind the demon, a scorched and beaten Katon leapt at Asmoday. Exhausted and near death, his attack carried little threat behind it. His trembling thrust just grazed Asmoday’s side as the demon sidestepped, leaving behind a shallow cut along his ribs. Asmoday’s response was far more damaging. He grabbed Katon’s wrist and bent it back, bones snapping as the assassin’s sword tumbled away. The last of his strength fell away as well, his defeat accompanied by a soundtrack of silence. He had nothing left to give. Katon hung limp in Asmoday’s grip as the demon raised his free hand, magical energy building around his fist as he readied to end the assassin’s life. Though ready to race to my death just moments before, now thanks to Katon, I saw a chance to inflict at least one casualty on the enemy before I went. I jumped to the side, angling so Gabriel couldn’t block my shots, and fired my pistols as quick as my barbecued fingers could hit the triggers. Gabriel snarled and Asmoday shrieked as they heard the guns go off. Asmoday, like a skittish rabbit looking for a hole, released Katon and dove for cover. I didn’t get to see whether my shots hit or not. The instant I fired, Gabriel’s shield slammed into me, exploding as it did. The concussive force blew me back into the wall. Shards of stone flew in all directions as the rock wall cracked and shattered against my back. I felt nothing as my head collided with the wall, a cold blackness threatening to overtake me. I slid to the ground in a rubbery pile, a heap of broken bones. Numb, I felt ready to pass out but a quiet voice nagged in my ear for me to remain conscious.
I told it to fuck off, but the damn thing wouldn’t be quiet.
After what seemed like an eternity, me and the voice going round and round, I gave in and opened my eyes. At my feet, a tiny blue gem glistened. I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw it, needle sharp pains lancing through my jaw as I did. I didn’t care. Gabriel came to stand in front of me, his face taught with suspicion, ready to kill. He glared down at me as Asmoday limped toward Glorius, my shots having apparently only struck him in the leg. Though his pain was evident, he had a smug look on his face as he passed knowing I’d failed to stop him. It just made me laugh harder.
“You’re a strange one, Triggaltheron. Moments from death and yet you laugh in its face. You have courage, I’ll give you that.”
I grinned as wide as my broken jaw would allow.
“That’s me, all balls no brains.” I winked at Gabriel.
“Have you met my friend?”
He leaned back wary, his eyes casting about. Seeing no one and probably thinking I was more nuts than he’d surmised, he asked, “What friend?”
I gestured with my eyes for him to come closer, my arms too weak to direct him. “My little blue friend on the floor there.”
His gaze followed mine, spying the gem for the Page 281 first time. He stared at it for a moment, recognition gleaming in his eyes.
“I think I’ll call him Duke Forcalor. Sound good to you?”
Gabriel stumbled back, his mouth gaping as the gem sparked to life like a magnesium flare, casting off rays of light that illuminated the dark cavern.
“Asmoday!” Gabriel shouted for his ally, his panicked voice echoing through the room. Asmoday turned just in time to see the explosion of light that burst from the gem, obliterating all the color in the room in a whitewash of energy. He fell to his knees, his hands covering his eyes. A moment later, the light faded, returning the room to its natural, dim shades. Wisps of black smoke wafted about, and in their midst, Duke Forcalor stood. The duke, no longer the epitome of comfort he’d been when I’d last seen him, was dressed in full battle regalia. He wore reddened plate armor covered in twisted, sharpened spikes. In a scabbard at his side, a dark sword hung, its pommel embedded with blood red stones that seemed to pulse. His long white hair hung loose, blowing gently back, though I could feel no wind. A satisfied grin held fast on his face as he pointed a metal gauntleted finger at Gabriel.
“Unprovoked, you have struck a blow against my servant. To do so is an act of war. I demand satisfaction.”
Gabriel trembled, the glow of his hands becoming dimmer. He said nothing, but his eyes went to Asmoday. They looked almost pleading. Asmoday hauled himself to his feet, but he looked no more courageous than Gabriel. He stayed where he stood, leaving Gabriel to face his fate alone. The glow around Gabriel’s hands extinguished as he turned away from his cowardly ally and met Forcalor’s gaze. He drew up his chin and straightened his shoulders. “If this is how it must be. So be it, traitor.”
I had to give him credit. Weakened by his efforts to control the supercharged Glorius for nearly a week, he had to have known he couldn’t win, yet he still stood his ground. There was a lot of brass still left in his sack. The lines drawn, he got to it. He leapt at the duke. Forcalor met him halfway. They clashed together like two wrecking balls colliding in midair. A resounding boom accompanied their battle, flashes of light and dark exploded intermittently. The chamber rumbled as the two went at it, paintings falling to the floor, Lucifer’s books and personal items falling from their perches. Gusts of wind were whipped up in their wake, their lashing tongues battering everything and everyone in the room.
I looked to Asmoday and saw he’d gathered his courage at last, using Gabriel’s fight as cover. Headed toward Glorius, he fought the gale-force winds that slowed his progress while the angel continued his struggle against the neutralizing manacles. From where I sat, he wouldn’t be free in time to escape Asmoday. That was a shame.
I sighed, though difficult to draw breath through the windstorm, and looked back to the battle content to watch at least one of the bastards die for what they’d done. Covered in yellowish-gold blood, Gabriel was being manhandled, his expended state no match for the duke who’d come to the fight fresh and prepared. It was clear Gabriel had little time left. That didn’t stop him from going all out. He held nothing back as he let loose blast after blast, only to have Forcalor bat each aside and return a dozen of his own, which crashed through the archangel’s defenses.
At last, Gabriel fell beneath the onslaught. As he crumpled to the floor, the hurricane winds died off and the room descended into silence. Much t
o Asmoday’s obvious relief, the duke ignored him and strode to Gabriel’s side. He lifted the limp archangel, cradling him in his arms, then turned to face me.
“Our deal is done, young Trigg. Make the best of it.” Without waiting for a reply, a shimmering shadow engulfed him. When it faded, both the duke and Gabriel were gone.
With nothing left to do but watch Asmoday bring about the start of Armageddon, I rolled my head his direction. He’d just reached Glorius, still casting furtive glances over his shoulder, the wind no longer Page 284 impeding his progress. The angel growled and hissed at him, the chains still just enough to hold him in place. Asmoday smiled wide in satisfaction of that fact as he turned back to smirk at me, confidence etched on his face.
“Your hand was well played, Triggaltheron, but as you can see, it wasn’t enough. You should have joined me. It would have saved you all this needless grief.” He gestured about the room, to Katon and Scarlett. “You could have been a king in the new world, but you chose to fight the inevitable. So now, there’s nothing left but for you to sit back and watch as it all comes to an end.”
Asmoday clenched his hands together as what power he had left gathered about them, his fists glowing with white hot light. His eyes sparkled with energy and malevolence.
Exhausted in body and spirit, I did as he suggested and leaned back as comfortably as I could. If the world was gonna end, at least I had a backstage pass. What more could I ask for?
Fait Accompli
“Never were there more ironic words spoken, old friend.”
Asmoday frantically spun about to see Baalth standing behind him. I’m not sure who was more shocked, him or me. I’m gonna have to go with Asmoday as he was the one facing down the deep barrels of my two stolen weapons.
Marcus and Poe stood at Baalth’s side, guns leveled at Asmoday. They didn’t wait for him to recover. Merciless, both guns roared to life, driving Asmoday back under a hail of deadly fire. The demon screeched, the bullets ripping into his flesh as he did his damndest to avoid them. After being pressed back about thirty feet, Poe and Marcus stopped firing just as Asmoday managed to conjure a shield. His face and chest were covered in boiling, black blood that poured from his wounds. He glared at Baalth and his cronies, unable to do more. If looks could kill, Asmoday wouldn’t have needed Glorius to destroy the world. Baalth only smiled in return, his cultured face looking as though this were just another day at the office. To him, I guess it was.
Too battered to do anything else, I watched as Page 286
Baalth strolled forward and stood over Glorius.
“It seems a pity to let all this time and effort go to waste.”
He tinkered with the manacles while Glorius stared up at him in wary rigidness. Asmoday looked much the same. The collective breaths in the room were stilled, silent.
“What’s that saying? Waste not, want not?”
Baalth’s smile grew wider as his hand burst into reddish-orange flame. Without hesitation he drove his burning fist into Glorius’s chest, smashing his way through the angel’s ribs, golden blood spraying up like a busted fountainhead. Glorius bucked against the chains, unable to fight back. His eyes were filled with pain and terror in equal amounts. His voice squawked, unable to do much else, his throat far too ravaged to scream as Baalth dug around inside his chest cavity. After an agonizing moment, he stilled as Baalth must have seized his heart. I saw the muscles of Baalth’s forearm tightened as he bore down. Under the pressure, Glorius twitched his last and died. His head dropped, his sightless eyes gazing up toward Heaven. He wouldn’t find any peace there.
Asmoday went white, his legs wobbling, nearly failing. He inched backward, but Poe waggled a finger at him, pushing his gun out slightly. Marcus reinforced the threat by taking a step forward, making a show of aiming his gun at Asmoday’s head. The demon froze.
He knew the jig was up.
Behind his gun-toting goons, Baalth pulled his dripping hand from Glorius’s chest and looked up at Asmoday. A subtle grin played across his lips. A second later, I saw his eyes roll back and a wave of pleasure washed across his face. He dropped to his knees in the throes of a soul transfer so fierce none of the rest of us could ever hope to fathom its depth. If I’d had the energy to cry, I’d have let loose like a bawling baby. Despite all the suffering and sacrifices we’d endured to stop Asmoday from gathering enough power to bring about Armageddon, I never once imagined Baalth would arrive at the last minute and steal victory out from underneath all of our noses. In but a few seconds, he had altered the status quo of existence. And all in his favor, go figure. Uncertain of what it all meant in the grand scheme of things, Baalth a far cry from the kind of demon Asmoday was, I could only wait and see where things went. It’s not like I could stop him. In the end, I guess it didn’t matter all that much anymore. No matter what happened, I was still bent over the barrel like all the rest of the grunts. I was out of this fight. Resigned to being a helpless voyeur, I turned my focus back to Baalth as the transfer neared its end. Baalth rose to his feet, his tanned face flush with excitement. I didn’t even need to extend my senses to feel the power that emanated from him. It wafted Page 288 off in thick waves. I could feel it almost like a physical presence. I watched his eyes glisten as he glanced around the room, perhaps seeing it in a way none of the rest could. He exuded a confidence I’d never seen in anyone, save for Lucifer. In one fell swoop, Baalth had realized his dreams. There was no doubt he’d become the new Satan. Only now, there was no God to rein him in. We were in for a wild ride.
Baalth smiled at me with surprising warmth before turning to confront Asmoday, his face cold. He stepped past his flunkies and moved to within feet of his once fellow lieutenant.
“I have to hand it to you, Asmoday, this was quite a scheme.” He gestured to the room with his hand still stained in Glorius’s blood. “Did you truly think you’d get away with it?”
Asmoday shivered. His confidence had broken rank and fled. His head drooped to his chest, eyes locked on the floor. “I had to try,” he replied, his voice shaky.
Baalth nodded. “I suppose you did. I can’t fault you for playing to your nature, now can I?”
Asmoday raised his eyes, a glimmer of hope shining in them. “I am what I have been made to be. Forgive me?”
Baalth raised his chin, his eyes narrowing as he looked Asmoday over. “In time, perhaps.” He managed to sound magnanimous despite the hint of condescension in his voice. “Though I imagine, in doing so I would be showing you far more kindness than you would have shown me had you succeeded with your plan.”
Asmoday swallowed loud. He hung his head in a show of staged humility. He knew his fate rested in appeasing Baalth. “I am your humble servant. Do with me as you will.”
“Brownnoser,” I muttered, my jibe coming out between clenched teeth.
Asmoday kept his cool and ignored me, though Baalth broke out in an amused smile.
“I’ll spare you for now, old friend, but you’ve much to atone for.”
Asmoday loosed a sigh of relief and dropped to his knees, kissing Baalth’s hand. Baalth shooed him off, taking a step back.
“I’ll deal with you later. Begone from my sight.”
With a wave of his hand, Asmoday was engulfed in a billowing cloud of darkness. It whirled up around him, drifted up through the roof, disappearing a moment later. Asmoday was gone with it. Wiping his moist hand on his suit, Baalth turned to stare at McConnell. After a few silent moments, he waved his hand once more and The Gray disappeared in a similar manner.
Done with the wizard, Baalth walked over to me. Poe and Marcus followed on his heels. The mentalist’s face was a mask of neutrality, but Marcus couldn’t help but grin at my predicament, chuckling as he stared down at me. He had to be loving this.
“I have to thank you, Frank. None of this would be possible without you.” Baalth knelt down beside me. I tried to feel honored.
“Make the check out to the emergency room.”
I met his cool g
aze. “You’ll have to forgive me for not groveling at your feet like your pal, Asmoday, but I’m really not feeling up to it.”
He smiled at me and winked. “I’ll let it go, this time.”
I rolled my eyes. “There’s only room down here for one smart-ass and I was here first.” I pulled myself up straighter so I could look him in the eyes with a semblance of confidence. “How’d you find us?”
He gestured toward the entrance. “It seems we have a friend in common, you and me.”
I followed his gaze and my heart sank. Veronica stood at the doorway, Abraham by her side. The joy at seeing Abraham alive did nothing to temper the heartbreak I felt at learning just how much my ex-wife had betrayed me. I turned back to Baalth, unable to look at her.
“She tracked you to the Ninth where you disappeared. It didn’t take much to figure out where you’d gotten off to from there.” He shrugged. There was an unexpected compassion in his expression. “Sorry, Frank. Never trust a succubus.”
My eyes drifted around the devastated room, everywhere but at Baalth. I didn’t want to look at his face for fear he’d see just how hurt I was. “So what now?”
“For the most part, life goes on,” he answered with no trace of deception.
“No big bang, no end of the world?”
Baalth shook his head. “That doesn’t serve my purpose, at this time. Maybe one day, but not now.”
He got to his feet, dusting his suit pants off. “Before he disappeared, your uncle left you something knowing you’d manage to find your way back down here one day.”
I tried my best not to look surprised Baalth had known about mine and Lucifer’s secret meetings. “I- I-”
He waved off my sputtering response. “You’ll find it hidden beneath the altar.” He motioned to the back of the room and made a face when he noticed the state of the sanctum, his focus having been elsewhere.
“It’s buried somewhere under that mess.” He called for Veronica to release Abraham. “I’ll see you soon.”
