Lucas: Origins Of A Demon

by N. P. Martin

  Despite the magic Lucas is using to try and shield his presence, he knows it will not be long before a demon like Leonard counters that magic with his own. The only thing Lucas has going for him is the few tricks he picked up back in Egypt all those millennia ago, tricks that only he knew about. At the moment, he is invisible to Leonard’s goon squad, which is probably why Leonard is here in person, to help counter the magic that Lucas is using. Leonard will try every location spell under the sun first, and when none of them work, he will realize that in fact he needs to try a different tact. To precisely locate Lucas, Leonard will have to consult the Seer, who will be obliged to tell Leonard what he wants to know. But Leonard has to find the Seer first. Lucas has already told the Seer to expect a visit from Leonard. She will remain cloaked for as long as she can, but Leonard’s magic is powerful and he will find her soon enough.

  There is also the fact Lucas hasn’t been able to contact Frank since he saved the watcher and his friends from certain death the day before. It would seem that Frank isn’t taking calls. Lucas can just picture him sitting in his mountain cabin, drinking and nursing his wounds, feeling sorry for himself, which maddens Lucas for he needs the Watcher now more than ever to get the feather from Krakus. Without the feather, Lucas will have little chance against Leonard, even with Dimitri’s help. Both Lucas and Dimitri would end up as slime in the Swamps of Feces. A fate worse than any death you can think of, especially when you still have full consciousness to enjoy every cursed second of your wretched existence.

  Lucas drinks what is left in his glass before picking his cell phone up of the bar top and dialing Frank’s number for the umpteenth time. He nearly chokes when Frank actually answers.

  “I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday,” Lucas says, hearing only silence on the other end of the phone. “Frank?”

  “What do you want, Lucas?” Frank says eventually, in a voice that makes him sound like he has given up all hope.

  “That’s a nice way to greet someone who saved your ass the other night.”

  “What do you want? A fucking medal?”

  Lucas tightens his lips together for a second, tramps down the anger that wants to rise up in him. “I’m sorry about your friends, Frank.”

  “You’re a fucking demon. How can you be sorry about anything?”

  “Are you drinking, Frank?”

  “Fuck off, Lucas.”

  Silence descends as Frank hangs up the phone.

  Lucas stares at the phone in his hand for a second. “Nephilim,” he says, shaking his head. “I swear to Set they are the most infuriating bunch I’ve ever come across.”

  He redials Frank’s number. Frank answers straight away and says, “Didn’t I just tell you to fuck off?”

  “Get a hold of yourself, Frank,” Lucas says. “I was only calling to tell you that I know the whereabouts of the demon who took your friend Rachel’s soul.”

  Lucas of course found out the demon’s name when he spoke with the Seer. But the Seer contacted him again shortly after to impart more disturbing news about the woman Watcher’s fate. It isn’t good, but Frank doesn’t need to know about it yet. As long as he thinks Lucas is still playing ball and sticking to the deal, that’s all that matters.

  “Where?” Frank asks after a short, intense silence.

  “Not so fast, Frank. We had a deal, remember? And considering I also saved you and your friends from certain death, I’d say you owe me first before I give you anything. That’s just business.”

  “I still don’t know where Krakus is.”

  “You’ll find him at the same factory where you lost him last time, following Tolloch’s orders no doubt. Sticking to the plan, as they say.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’ve had people keep an eye on the factory. The latest batch of humans has been loaded in. The ritual will start soon.”

  “Why can’t you just teleport in there and get the feather yourself?”

  “I can’t risk Hell hearing about my interference, especially if the Generals are backing Tolloch’s activities here in the city.” That is the truth. Whatever conspiracy is happening between demons and Watchers, the powers that be in Hell surely know about it. Lucas didn’t exactly know if the ruling elite was backing Tolloch or not, but he isn’t about to be stupid and find out by interfering in things directly, and especially when Leonard is already looking for him.

  “But you’ll have the feather,” Frank says. “They can’t touch you then.”

  “They may not be able to take me back to Hell, but they can certainly make things difficult for me here.”

  “Jesus Christ. So am I just supposed to waltz in there on my own, is that it? I’ll get fucking killed. Krakus had vampires backing him up last time.”

  “You’re a smart guy, Frank. You’ll find a way. Let me know when it’s done. I’ll tell you what you want to know then.”

  Lucas hangs up the phone and sets it on the bar top again, hopeful that Frank will get his act together and get him what he wants. What he needs. He can’t do another tour in Hell. It is unthinkable, going back to that abominable place. Earth is his home now, the only place he belongs in, the only place he wants to be. Without the feather, he will never be able to rest easy.

  About to pour himself another drink, Lucas becomes aware of another presence nearby in the club. Every warning and fear signal he has goes off inside him like a series of timed explosions. He jumps of the bar stool and looks around. Sees no one. But he knows there is someone else here.

  And he knows who that someone is.

  “Lucas Ramses,” a man says as he steps out of the shadows at the back of the club.

  Lucas looks at the man and feels sick for the first time in two centuries. “Leonard,” he says helplessly.

  “Yes, my old friend,” Grand Duke Leonard says as he walks to the center of the club. “Long time no see.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “I don’t think we were ever friends, Leonard,” Lucas says as he stands by the bar, forcing himself to remain calm, even though he knows he is in grave danger, especially with the other figures emerging from the shadows of the club. Maybe a dozen of them. Leonard’s personal guard.

  “We might have been, had you not betrayed me,” Leonard says. He walks over and sits on a stool at the bar, gestures for Lucas to do the same. “Pour me a glass.”

  Lucas glances at the personal guards that have all but surrounded the bar as they space themselves apart around the club, each of them armed with Soul Killers-large, hefty guns that fire black energy, the energy of the Adversary. Soul Killers, as the name suggests, are designed to do only one thing: to destroy the soul of the demon being fired upon. To wipe them out completely. Lucas figures he is quick enough to avoid the shots before they hit them, but he isn’t sure if he can avoid a dozen guns all firing at once. And it isn’t like he can teleport. He has already tried. The suppressor spell Leonard has cast is preventing him. To escape, Lucas will have to get out of the club first, which won’t be easy.

  Lucas suppresses a sigh and sits down at the bar, two empty stools between him and the Grand Duke. He reaches over the bar and gets another glass, then fills it with vodka and slides it down the bar to Leonard, who stops the glass before it shoots past him. “Thank you,” he says, a slight smile on his face for some reason. It is strange for Lucas to see Leonard in the guise he is now in. Lucas is used to seeing the old man who stalked the shadows of Hell, rarely revealing his face. Obviously here on Earth, Leonard preferred a younger guise. His hair is past his shoulders, and jet black. His face is young, not even middle aged, with sharp blue eyes and a thin mustache. He is dressed immaculately in a black suit and long black overcoat.

  “I see you dressed up for the occasion,” Lucas says, trying not to appear tense as he pours himself a drink.

  “All my own creation. No meat suit here.”

  “You must teach me how you do that.” Lucas is aware of the ridiculousness of that statement, but it just slips out
. A part of him is always on the hunt for new knowledge, even when he is about to die it seems.

  “Rest assured, Lucas. I will teach you plenty when we get back to Hell. How to create a vessel will not be one of those things.”

  Lucas smiles, but says nothing. His mind is in a frenzy as he tries to come up with a way out of the situation he is in. If he had the feather, he wouldn’t be worrying right now. But he doesn’t have the feather, so there is no point thinking about it.

  “I found it ironic, by the way,” Leonard says.

  “What’s that?”

  “The fact that you betrayed me to get the throne for yourself, and then the Adversary rejected you. Why did that happen? That still confounds me.”

  “Your guess is as good as mine, Leonard. The Great One never gave me a reason.”

  “But the Adversary let you go. Why did it not destroy you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Lucas is telling the truth. Not long after he took the throne and bonded with the Adversary, the Adversary broke the bond. The only thing the Great One said to Lucas was that Lucas was destined for other things, and being the King of Hell was not one of them. As it happened, Lucas was glad. The second he took the throne he knew he had made a mistake, just like he did when he traded his soul for the promise of greatness. He had let his ego overstep the mark again.

  “That has never happened before,” Leonard says. “We all know taking the throne is a risk. If the Adversary rejects the bond, that’s it. You are destroyed. Yet, you still live, Lucas.” Leonard stares intently at him. “That really vexes me, you know. Why are you so special, Lucas, hmm?”

  “I guess we’ll never know.” Lucas smiles, despite the impending truth of his words.

  “Sadly, no.” Leonard slides himself over to the next stool, so he is closer to Lucas. His ice blue eyes harden, and Lucas sees the evil he knows so well lie behind them. “No one betrays me and gets away with it. Not even you, Lucas.”

  “Come on, Leonard. It was Hell. All we did was betray in that place. That was the point.”

  Leonard nods to himself. “Maybe. But I still take it personally. What can I say, I hold a grudge.”

  Fucking right you do, Lucas thinks. For over two centuries. “Surely we can work this out like-”

  “Like what? Civilized demons?”

  “I was going to say businessmen.”

  “Like businessmen. Okay. What can you offer me, Lucas?”

  Lucas doesn’t really expect Leonard to indulge him, but he throws it out there anyway. “I know you are only interested in one thing. You want the power of the Adversary again. To finish what you started. Am I right?”

  Leonard stares back at Lucas. He obviously doesn’t like to be reminded of his prior failure. You see, it was always Leonard’s intention to use the power of the Adversary to transform Hell, to make the place even more hellish than it already is. Lucas could never understand why, until he realized that Leonard is just pure evil, and thus enjoyed evil for evil’s sake. Trouble is, to affect that kind of large scale transformation takes time. It takes time to understand the power of the Adversary. Lucas found out for himself how incredibly complex and unfathomable the power of the Adversary actually is. This is a universal force we are talking about here, infinite in scale and unfathomable in depth. Leonard was dethroned by an upstart before he got the chance to figure out the Adversary’s secrets.

  “Take me back to Hell,” Lucas says. “And I will help you get the throne back.” The thoughts of going back to Hell under the servitude of Leonard is abhorrent to Lucas, but it is either that or live as slime for the rest of eternity. At least with the first option, he had a chance.

  Leonard seems to consider for a moment, then he shakes his head and smiles. “You always were a slimy bastard, Lucas. Best salesman I ever met. But alas, I will have to decline your offer, as tempting as it sounds to have someone with your skills behind me.” He leans closer to Lucas and lowers his voice. “But I think I’ll just destroy you instead, after I take you back to Hell, of course.” He nods his head towards his drone squad and they start to move in towards the bar.

  Every single one of the guards looks the same. Identical in fact. That’s because Leonard cloned them himself in Hell. Each of them is bald, completely hairless in fact. No eyebrows, no lashes, not even a goddamn mole on their pale unblemished skin. Each of the clones wears a dark suit. If they were in Hell, they would look like ice demons, with crowns of ice on their heads. The doll look they currently sport is their way of blending in here on Earth.

  Lucas glances at the closing clones. If he is going to make a move, he knows it has to be now. He will have a tiny window in which to act. Another few seconds and he will be hemmed in by Leonard’s soldiers, not to mention by Leonard himself. Truth be told, Leonard hardly needs the clones to apprehend Lucas. The Grand Duke is powerful enough to do that himself, but Leonard is the type who rarely likes to get his hands dirty, for which Lucas is glad. It gives him half a chance.

  When Lucas makes his move, he does so at unnatural speed (for this world anyway). He jumps off the stool and darts to the right, towards the encroaching clones, taking two of their heads off before the rest can even react. He makes it through the circle of suited soldiers and runs for the front exit of the club. He gets only half way across when he suddenly finds himself face to face with Leonard again, who bares his twin fangs at Lucas before driving his fist into Lucas’ chest, sending Lucas flying backwards through the air. Lucas lands on the floor with a heavy thump. Before he can even bounce back to his feet, he is surrounded by a gaggle of large barreled, bio-mechanical guns all pointing down at him. His head flits from side to side as he considers what to do. He could jump up, try to run again, but he doubted he would be fast enough to avoid getting a load of black energy shot into him. He might be able to survive the shots, but only if he got the time and resources to expunge the energy from himself before its creeping acidic blackness turned his insides to mush. Black energy traps you like tar. You can’t leave the body you are in. You just have to suffer its agonizing effects before you found yourself transported to a cell in the Depths of Hell, where you would stay a prisoner of the Adversary for eternity. Yep, Soul Killers are a nasty piece of work.

  And besides, even if he beat the soldiers and there were not more on the way, there is still Leonard. “Alright,” Lucas says, holding up his hands. “You got me.”

  “That’s right.” The gun barrels part to allow Leonard through, where he stands, a smug smile on his face as he looks down at Lucas. “We have you.”

  “It only took you two hundred years as well.”

  The smile leaves Leonard’s face. “I’m going to enjoy torturing you at my Keep.”

  “Great. I hear it’s a nice place.”

  “Far from it. For you anyway.”

  Fuck, Lucas thinks. This can’t be right. He was so close to getting the feather as well. If he had just had the feather, Leonard wouldn’t have had a leg to stand on, literally, if Lucas so desired to cut them off for him.

  Leonard takes a few steps back, looks at the floor and mumbles a few words that Lucas does not have to hear in order to understand. Leonard is reciting a spell that will open a portal to Hell, probably a direct line to his Keep in the snowy wastelands where he resides. When a swirling tunnel of deep orange light opens up in the floor, Lucas feels his heart--or at least the heart of the person he stole the body from--sink in his chest. It is not a nice feeling and it is accompanied by unpleasant memories of Hell and its ever present, muted red light. He will never see sunshine again. He will never taste good vodka again. He will never revel in the sweet pleasures of Janice’s pussy. Such a shame, he thinks. He will miss that more than anything, strangely.

  “Stand him up,” Leonard commands his clone soldiers.

  Hands with vice like grips clasp on to Lucas’ arms and haul him to his feet. He can’t take his eyes of the burning portal in the floor. In a just a few seconds he will be back in the place he hoped
never to see again. The universe can be a cruel place indeed.

  “The look on your face is amusing me, Lucas,” Leonard says as the soldiers march Lucas to the edge of the portal, which seems to want to suck Lucas in like a giant mouth, the dancing light particles of the portal itself also seeming to revel in Lucas’ downturn and his soon to be suffering. “I enjoy seeing snakes like you get defanged.”

  Lucas can’t help but laugh. “You’re calling me a snake? That’s funny, Leonard. You are the fucking King of Snakes.”

  Leonard merely smiles, unaffected by Lucas’ words, practically bursting with anticipation. It is obvious he can’t wait to get Lucas back to Hell so he can go to work on him for the next eternity. “Take one last look at this playground you have become so used to living in. Play time is over, Lucas. Your punishment awaits you with eager, open arms.”

  Lucas swallows. This is actually happening. He is going back to Hell. No, no no…

  “Throw him into the portal!” Leonard commands.

  Lucas closes his eyes.

  And then flings them open again when he hears running footsteps coming from the front exit of the club, followed by the clack-clack-clack of automatic gunfire. Lucas is shocked, but oh so damn glad, to see a stream of people come running through the front doors of the club, each one armed with an automatic rifle that they start firing enthusiastically, all except the man-- or rather demon--in front, who holds a massive sword in his hands.

  Dimitri.

  If Lucas was a God man, he would have thanked the big guy then and there, but as it happens, he doesn’t have time for that anyway. Bullets are flying past him, hitting the clone soldiers beside him, forcing them to loose their grip on his arms. One bullet even slams into Lucas’ shoulder, but he hardly feels it.