Wicked Bartender PG-13 Version

by KuroKoneko Kamen

Wicked Bartender

  PG-13 Version

  A demon bartender as intoxicating as a cocktail

  By KuroKoneko Kamen

  Copyright 2014 by KuroKoneko Kamen

  Cover Design by Kyoux

  This is a work of fiction. All characters are invented. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Chapter 1: Dark and Stormy

  Green eyes.

  Pale green eyes with flecks of starlight, glistening with tears.

  Those eyes staring back at him was the last thing, Dantalion, the Great Duke of Hell with thirty-six legions of demons under his command, remembered before he’d been sealed away. He’d been stabbed through the chest by God’s Chosen warrior and pinned to an enormous fig tree. He remembered a multitude of leafy vines of ivy wrapping around his body tightly until absolute darkness enveloped him and all his senses.

  The pressure of those darned vines was finally loosening. A tingling sensation was spreading throughout his limbs and a few minutes later he could move his pinky finger. The vines started to coil away from his body, and Dantalion fell forward and away from the tree that he’d become a part of. Bark splintered with an audible crack.

  “Jeanne! Why?” Dantalion hollered angrily, as he broke free of his bonds and pulled the vines from his body in handfuls.

  He blinked. He’d expected the warrior maiden to be directly in front of him but she was no longer present.

  “Um…excuse me, My Lord?” Came a slimy, raspy voice.

  Dantalion looked down and saw a lesser demon. He was three feet tall with spindly limbs, red skin, and black, bulbous eyes. As he smiled at Dantalion his pointed fangs were revealed. Behind him a long, serpentine tail was swishing back and forth. Two bat-like wings flittered behind his back and two tiny horns protruded from his head.

  Dantalion raised an eyebrow at the minion of Hell. “Who the hell are you? Speak cretin.” He ordered absentmindedly as he looked around at his surroundings. Odd. He remembered having fought the holy maiden in a large open field of yellow flowers, but this…was no field.

  The area he was in had several leafy evergreen trees and areas that were obviously man-made where different flowering plants had been planted. Though at the moment most of the plants appeared to be dead or dormant because of the cold weather. Dantalion quickly deduced that he was in some kind of human garden or park. But how had he gotten there? He wondered.

  Dantalion looked behind him at the fig tree that he’d been sealed to and noticed a bronze plaque with the following words engraved upon it: Gift of France. The words were surprisingly in English and not in French. How long had he been asleep? Had the English won the war and occupied France?

  The fig tree was larger than Dantalion remembered it to be. It towered above him, thirty feet high, and there were still large, green leaves on its branches despite the cold. The trunk was six feet wide and its bark silvery in appearance. The tree had tall roots as well as aerial roots that draped from the tree’s branches all the way to the ground.

  “My name is Ajax. And it is I who awakened you from your enchanted slumber.” Ajax announced proudly as he puffed up his chest and gave Dantalion an expectant look. When he received no immediate response, Ajax’s pleased expression faltered but he plowed on. “I’m the one who broke the holy seal that had been placed upon you.”

  Dantalion’s attention shifted back to the minion. “You broke the seal? How?” His sharp, golden eyes narrowed at the creature suspiciously. The seal caused by the maid’s sword had been incredibly powerful, so it didn’t seem very likely that a lesser demon like this one had been able to break it all on his own.

  “Master Lucifer granted me power and sent me here. Hundreds of years have passed and the seal of God’s Chosen Warrior had finally weakened enough for us to be able to accomplish this noble task.” Ajax explained and began to rub his hands together. “I was able to destroy that abominable sword.”

  Jeanne’s sword? “Master Lucifer? How many years have I been pinned to this darned tree exactly?” Dantalion snarled, fearing the answer and his blood already beginning to boil.

  “You were sealed in 1429 so…five hundred and eighty-four years.” Ajax quickly supplied.

  “Five hundred and eighty-four years?” Dantalion murmured and most of his anger began to vanish. Then the Maid of Orléans is dead long past. “The year is…?”

  “2014, My Lord,” Ajax piped up helpfully.

  Dantalion sent a glare the demon’s way. He’d already figured that out himself. “My mission?” He questioned, his hand drifting down to the hilt of his sword out of reflex.

  The minion rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Master Lucifer awakened you because the Apocalypse draws near and he will have need of you. Until then Master Lucifer commands that you live as a human. You are to blend in among humankind, and await further instructions.”

  Dantalion blinked in confusion. “As a human but…” He looked down at his hands and his eyes widened in surprise. He removed his hand from the hilt of his sword to better inspect it. He had normal human hands with short, square-shaped nails. No claws.

  A feeling of dread washed through him as he reached his hands up to the top of his head and discovered his horns were gone. He looked behind him and noted that his impressive dragon-like wings were also gone. My wings. Dantalion ran his tongue over his teeth and felt that his incisors were normal sized now. He tried to keep his calm as he inspected the rest of his now human body.

  The demon was giving Dantalion a sympathetic look and must have noticed Dantalion’s slight trembling because he sought to soothe his Lord. “I know how you must feel, My Lord. To have to live as a lowly human is…regrettable. But I’m sure it won’t be long before Lucifer makes his will known, and you get to fight for his noble cause once more!”

  After a few minutes Dantalion smiled, which under normal circumstances was never a good thing. Ajax shuddered at the sight and began to shift from one foot to the other out of nervousness.

  The demon Duke began to cackle. “I get to live as a human! As a human! That’s…wonderful.” He said softly to himself. At first, he’d been shocked by the very idea but now…he realized that this was something that he’d wondered about deep down ever since he’d fallen in love with Jeanne d’Arc five hundred and eighty-four years ago.

  “My Lord?” Startled, Ajax looked at Dantalion wide-eyed, and completely misunderstood why he was suddenly laughing. “What…? My Lord…do not worry. If this form so offends you, all you have to do is harvest some demonic power and your form will return to its original one. You can start by harvesting fear from some inferior humans by torturing them or killing them. All these things will restore your power and your true form instantly.” Ajax’s onyx eyes glittered at the thought of torturing humans - one of his favorite pastimes.

  Abruptly, the smile fell from Dantalion’s face and his attention snapped back to the lesser demon. “Ajax…who else is aware of my…awakening?” He ran his tongue over his teeth, still unused to his teeth being less sharp.

  Ajax blinked. “Only Master Lucifer. I am to be your loyal servant. Master Lucifer will speak through me in order to give you your orders. I have the rare ability to be able to travel back and forth from Hell to Earth because of a pact I have with an inferior human. That is why I was chosen for this task. I am Lucifer’s messenger.” Again the lesser demon was puffing up his chest in pride.

  “A messenger,” Dantalion echoed wistfully, before he shook his head. He stared down at the minion of Hell with a cold look on his face. “Thank you for the information, Ajax.” The demon Duke drawled before his hand snapped out, wrapped around the lesser demon’s throat,
and began to squeeze.

  Ajax brought his bony hands up to his neck and tried to pry Dantalion’s hand away. He began to choke and desperately gasp for breath. He gave Dantalion a confused, hurt, and fearful look. “My Lord…why? I am your loyal servant!”

  “Exactly.” Dantalion rumbled as a wicked smile curled his lips. His golden eyes were as cold as ice. Dantalion lifted the lesser demon off the ground and continued to clench his hand around Ajax’s neck until a sickening crack split through the park. The sound startled a group of pigeons in one of the nearby trees causing them to take flight.

  Dantalion tossed the lesser demon’s lifeless body aside. Now, he was free. At least, for the moment. He planned to enjoy this…interesting experience unhindered for as long as he could.

  The Duke of Hell began to determinedly make his way through the park. The leaves of the nearby tress had already changed color, and were shades of orange, red and yellow. Dantalion deduced that it must be autumn. He noticed the weak presences of a few filthy humans, who were wearing tattered clothing and sitting around the park nearby. Some of these humans were sleeping beneath a tiny bridge. They posed no threat, so Dantalion simply ignored these pathetic humans and continued on his way. In just a few minutes, more humans came into view. Very strange looking humans.

  The first was a tall man dressed in a black and white tuxedo. A long black cape with a bright, red lining billowed out behind him as he walked. The human had his black hair slicked back against his scalp, and there were noticeable fangs poking out of his mouth. Blood was dripping down from those sinister looking fangs.

  A fellow demon? Or a lowly vampire? Dantalion wondered for a moment but sniffed the air. No…he smells human. How odd.

  A heavyset human man was a part of the trio that was now heading Dantalion’s way. The human had long, curly, black hair, and a black bandana that had white skulls and crossbones on it was tied around his head. He was wearing an all black outfit along with a pair of black boots with cuffs. A gleaming cutlass was strapped to his side. Dantalion raised an eyebrow at this man next. A pirate? The demon deduced before placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to do battle if need be.

  The last member of their group had Dantalion’s jaw dropping slightly but he quickly closed it with an audible click. A young human female with flowing, blonde hair and bright blue eyes was dressed up as Wonder Woman. Though of course Dantalion had no way to know who the hell ‘Wonder Woman’ was. The female was wearing a gold and red corset, blue briefs and a pair of red and gold knee boots. Dantalion thought the woman looked like a harlot since she was wearing so little clothing. A golden headband with a red star on it was on her head. It was the most outrageously scandalous outfit Dantalion had ever seen a human female wear. She must be a harlot.

  Dantalion unsheathed his double-edged, black iron, great sword, and pointed it at the suspicious group of humans approaching him. “Halt, humbles humains!” Dantalion spoke to the trio in French saying: ‘Halt lowly humans!’.

  The group of teens didn’t understand what Dantalion had just said to them, but they stopped in order to take a better look at him. Dantalion was tall, towering over them at six-five and the teens had to tilt their heads up to look at his face. As Wonder Woman gazed into the demon’s golden eyes a blush formed on her cheeks. She’d never seen such a handsome man before. His skin was pale alabaster like marble, his eyelashes were longer than hers, and his hair was silky looking, black as the night, and chin-length.

  The demon Duke was wearing a shirt and pants that had been made out of the leathery skin of a dragon from Hell. The black leather material fit over his body like a second skin, showing off his muscular torso and six-pack abs. On his forearms he was wearing arm bracers that had been made out of sharp, menacing dragon scales. Greaves that were also made out of dragon scales were attached to his shins.

  Dantalion’s sword was strapped to his side by means of a leather belt and sheathe. Only the hilt and pommel of Dantalion’s sword were visible. The hilt of Dantalion’s sword consisted of a dragon’s outstretched wings and the pummel was a group of small white, howling skulls. Dantalion’s shoulder armor had a series of long, wicked looking metal spikes. Attached to his shoulders was a long, black, flowing cape with a blood-red lining. Dantalion’s heavy boots thudded against the ground as he strolled forward and his cape billowed behind him in the evening wind.

  Wonder Woman sucked in a breath. Oh my God. What a hottie. Butterflies were fluttering like mad in her stomach.

  “A demon lord? Nice.” The young man dressed as a vampire complimented.

  “Impressive costume, man.” The pirate agreed. When Dantalion didn’t respond right away, he began more slowly. “That was French before wasn’t it? Do you speak English?” His voice rose in volume as he asked the last question.

  A muscle beneath Dantalion’s eye ticked in irritation. “Of course I know how to speak English.” The demon replied in perfect English. Dantalion was able to speak hundreds of languages after all. Just who does this pathetic human think he’s talking to?

  The young female giggled, as she looked Dantalion over before batting her long eyelashes flirtatiously at him. “A very handsome demon.”

  Costume? Dantalion mused as he raked his hand back through his wavy black hair, and lowered his sword. Ah, this must be some kind of human festival. Samhain, perhaps?

  “You three.” Dantalion pointed his sheathed sword at them. “Pray tell, what day is it?” He asked, gritting his teeth slightly since he wasn’t used to having to be so polite to mere humans.

  The teens all looked at each other with amused expressions on their faces.

  “Seriously? It’s Halloween…but you obviously know that with the way you’re dressed! Trying to stay in character? Role playing?” The vampire asked curiously with one eyebrow raised.

  “Halloween.” Dantalion repeated slowly. Halloween must be a human festival where they dress up in strange costumes. “As thanks for the information you have given me I will spare your lives. Consider yourselves lucky. You may continue on your way.”

  The teens laughed at that and began to walk away from Dantalion. The boy seemed to think my attire was unusual for this era. Are there no warriors about? I will have to remedy this immediately. The demon mused to himself as he stroked his chin in contemplation.

  Dantalion continued to meander through Central Park until he exited and came to a sidewalk that was right next to a street. Dantalion stomped his boot down against the odd looking, perfectly flat surface. How odd. It seems the humans have improved the process of making their streets and they are no longer cobbled. Dantalion continued to hop up and down on the sidewalk before he finally contained himself. The demon looked up and took a single step back, shocked by what he was seeing in front of him.

  These strange ‘things’ were speeding past him at an incredible speed (they were even faster than dragon mounts!) on what must have been a road of some kind. Calm yourself Dantalion and think logically. Dantalion observed the ‘things’ a moment longer and used his keen vision to see within the ‘things’. He could instantly see that there were humans inside of the things. They didn’t look trapped or afraid, so the only logical conclusion was…

  Ah, carriages. Dantalion nodded, feeling proud of himself. These must be modern-day carriages. Not bad, lowly humans. The Duke of Hell was impressed. Though the same feat could have easily been accomplished by a demon using his demonic power. Dantalion looked across the street. He needed to cross, and search for a library so that he could learn more about the world and the strange era he’d been awakened to.

  That’s when he saw her.

  A young woman dressed in silver armor with closely cropped blonde hair, and a sword strapped to her side. “Jeanne?” Dantalion exclaimed as he watched her walk past on the other side of the street. The young woman was laughing and surrounded by a group of friends who were dressed strangely. Probably in costume.

  Dantalion glared at the cars d
efiantly. “Nothing will stop me from confronting that wench about her betrayal! I’m not afraid of these pathetic human carriages!” The demon sneered as he began to stalk across the street and the cars continued to speed by.

  A car was heading straight for him, but Dantalion merely turned and stretched out his left hand. “I command you to halt, pathetic human!”

  The car honked and did not stop. Bright headlights headed Dantalion’s way.

  In that instant, someone gripped his arm and forcibly tugged him backwards. “Look out!” A concerned sounding, female voice shouted.

  Dantalion fell backwards onto the sidewalk and ended up landing on top of the body of a human female. The female had managed to pull him out of harm’s way. He glared down at the human who had dared to touch him.

  It was a young woman. No, a nun. The nun was dressed in a pale blue dress with a white collar. The collar and dress were decorated with crosses. The nun wore a blue and white habit on her head, which hid her hair color. The silver cross that was dangling around the nun’s neck captured Dantalion’s attention for a moment. It was an impressive piece and looked ancient. It was a cross of Lorraine and had two bars across the main one. Jeanne the Maid had worn a similar piece more than five hundred years ago. That cross…

  The young human female let out a pained gasp and Dantalion realized that he was crushing the poor girl’s chest. It was too dark out to see the color of the woman’s eyes.

  Dantalion bit down on his tongue to stop the insults that wanted to fly out of his mouth. The demon had met a few nuns before and they always grew extremely angry if one cursed in front of them. He continued to stare down at the young woman and she stared up at him as if frozen in fear. This of course was not unusual. Dantalion’s mere presence struck fear into the hearts of men.

  The girl’s dog, a majestic golden retriever, broke the spell that they seemed to be under when he began to bark and growl angrily at Dantalion. The dog’s barking snapped both of them out of their daze.

  Dantalion looked over at the girl’s dog curiously. He’d never seen a dog quite like it before. It was a hundred pounds, and had glossy, golden-yellow fur. Dantalion was surprised to note that the dog had also been dressed in a costume. It was wearing a blue shirt with a red ‘S’ on it, and a small red cape.

  A mindless beast in a cape? How ridiculous. Dantalion thought scathingly. Humans clothe their pets now? What has the world come to? The demon quickly moved off of the young nun and apologized. “Forgive me…sister.” He offered her his hand in order to assist her to her feet.

  The nun looked at Dantalion with wide eyes as she took his hand and allowed him to help her up. As the nun looked Dantalion over her face paled. “You look so much like…” She quickly shook her head and gave Dantalion a bemused smile. “That’s one hell of a costume! However.” Her expression returned to its previously stern one. “Just what did you think you were doing?” The nun questioned as she stalked towards Dantalion and jabbed her finger into the demon’s chest.

  “Ow.” The girl looked down at her finger in surprise. That hurt! “Anyways…you could just wait for the walk signal to turn green, you know. What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk?” She accused with a disgusted look on her face.

  “Walk signal?” Dantalion murmured as he looked over to where the young woman had pointed. He saw a strange magical device that was flashing with the red image of a human before it changed to show the flashing image of a green human in the pose of walking. The human carriages stopped abruptly, and humans began to cross the street effortlessly. “I see.” Dantalion caught sight of the young blonde woman in armor again but she was getting farther away. “I must go. In thanks for your assistance I will spare your life, sister.” Dantalion rumbled distractedly before he took off running down the crosswalk after the girl in armor, leaving the startled nun behind.

  Dantalion made it to the other side of the street and began to run down the sidewalk in the direction of the girl in armor and her group of friends. He reached her group in a matter of seconds and reached out to grab her shoulder, spinning her around to face him. “Jeanne?” Dantalion asked as he stared intently into the girl’s face. “What are you doing here? Alive in this era?” He grabbed her upper arms and squeezed them tightly.

  The female’s eyes widened in fright and she screamed. “Someone, help me! This man…he’s hurting me!”

  Dantalion furrowed his brow in confusion at the panicking young human female. “Jeanne…it’s me…Dantalion! There’s no need to be afraid! But I must ask you…why did you betray me?”

  The girl shook her head as tears came to her eyes. “I…don’t know what you’re talking about! Someone, help! This guy is crazy!”

  “Police! Police! Over here! Help us!” The girl’s friends called out.

  A couple of nearby cops immediately ran over to assist the girl and her friends. The first cop to reach them placed his hand on Dantalion’s shoulder and pulled him away from the girl. “Sir, I must ask you to unhand that young lady at once.”

  Dantalion spun around to face the two men in uniform. “How dare you touch me, you lowly human.” The demon’s hand went automatically for the sword at his hip.

  The two cops responded in kind, drawing their guns, and pointing them at Dantalion.

  “He’s got a weapon!” One of the cops said with wide eyes.

  “Wait. Sure it’s not a prop?” His partner asked with a wary expression on his face. “This is why I hate Halloween. It’s hard to tell the difference between civilians and real lunatics.”

  “Looks pretty damn real to me. Don’t do it, kid.” The first cop warned sternly with a dark scowl on his face.

  That’s when Dantalion remembered the lesser demon’s words: You can start by harvesting fear from some inferior humans by torturing them or killing them. All these things will restore your power and your true form instantly. He could already feel the fear building inside of the surrounding humans and his demonic power was beginning to increase. Blazes! If this continued horns would probably sprout out of the top of his head. Dantalion removed his hand from the hilt of his sword and put his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “Mes excuses, I mean, my apologies, gentlemen.”

  The cops put their guns away and approached Dantalion. “It’s okay, kid, but you’re going to have to come with us. That sword of yours looks real, and you assaulted that girl. For now, you’ll have to come down to the station with us so that we can file a report.”

  Dantalion nodded, not knowing where the hell this so-called ‘station’ was. The cops handcuffed Dantalion and began to lead him to their own strange ‘carriage’. They got inside and began to speed off down the road. Dantalion sighed. Until he knew more about this era he would continue to get himself into trouble like this. He’d gained a little demonic power back there and so decided to put it to good use.

  “Gentlemen…look into my eyes.” Dantalion commanded in his deep, baritone voice.

  The two cops obeyed and looked into Dantalion’s golden eyes. Dantalion’s eyes glowed as he began to use his hypnosis upon them. “Now, gentlemen, you will take me to the nearest library.” He commanded with an imperious wave of his hand.

  “As you wish, My Lord.” The cops said in unison.

  A wicked smile curled Dantalion’s lips. He used his hypnosis to find out that the cops were ‘keepers of the peace’ in this city. Basically they were modern-day soldiers or the equivalent of city guards. He continued his interrogation to discover that the ‘modern carriage’ he was in was called a ‘car’. He was also surprised to discover that he was no longer in France, but in a country called ‘America’ in a city called ‘New York City’.

  Dantalion recalled the plaque he’d seen on the fig tree that he’d been sealed to and which read: Gift of France. Someone must have transported the tree from France to America, and planted the tree in the park. Apparently, the stage for the Apocalypse had changed. The amount of corruption inside of the city must have been hi
gh for Lucifer to choose it.

  The cops drove Dantalion to the nearest library and dropped him off. The library was closed, but for Dantalion it was an easy enough task to unlock the door with a burst of demonic energy. The demon made his way inside of the library after that. The building was quite impressive and was larger than any library Dantalion had ever been inside before. The place had even more books than his old Master, King Solomon, had treasured during his reign circa 970 to 931 BC.

  Dantalion immediately searched for books on world history. He needed to get back up to speed. He wanted to learn about everything he’d missed since the year 1429. The demon was a master in all arts and sciences, but apparently much had changed over the last five hundred and eighty-four years.

  Dantalion found several history books that looked interesting, and carried them over to a long wooden table. He dropped the books down onto the table, pulled a chair out for himself, took a seat, and began to read. He read of the world’s history from the year 1429 all the way until the present day 2014. He mostly concentrated on what had happened in France and what had happened in the country he was now in: America. A few hours into his studying, Dantalion stumbled across something rather unsettling.

  Dantalion’s eyes scanned over the book page: Saint Jeanne d’Arc, the Maid of Orléans, is a recognized Saint of the Roman Catholic Church. Although she was excommunicated and burned at the stake by local officials in 1431, Central Church officials later nullified her excommunication, declaring her a martyr who had been unjustly executed for a secular vendetta. Her legend grew from there, leading to her beatification in 1909 and her canonization in 1920.

  Excommunicated? Burned at the stake? No, no, no. The blood drained from Dantalion’s face and he sat back in his chair looking stunned. “But how…how is that possible? Jeanne was burned at the stake?” Dantalion scrubbed his hand down over his face. “That makes no sense.” He shook his head as he remembered the powerful, young woman, who wielded the holy sword of God.

  Dantalion remembered the fierce battle Jeanne’s army had fought against one of his legions. Jeanne had won the day. Well, she’d been winning the day until one of his men had shot her with an arrow. She’d fallen off her horse and right off a cliff. After that Dantalion had beheaded his own subordinate for interrupting his fight against Jeanne, and had soared over the cliff to fetch the Maid. Not to save her, of course, but so they could resume their battle. He recalled the surreal time they’d spent together after that. The demon shook his head of such thoughts.

  Jeanne had been a loyal, faithful servant of God. She’d ultimately betrayed their ‘truce’ and ‘friendship’, and had sealed Dantalion to a sacred tree. Surely, God didn’t see that as a betrayal? Why had God allowed Jeanne to be burned at the stake? Why had her visions stopped so suddenly? Why had her luck changed so drastically? Why had she fallen out of God’s good graces? Dantalion’s mind was spinning with questions and possibilities, and his temples began to throb.

  Was it because of him? Had God known about their friendship? Had he disapproved? Had Jeanne paid the price? Dantalion dug his nails into his scalp at the thought. The demon Duke felt guilt twist his insides. “God…I curse you once again for taking those who are dear to me.” Dantalion growled aloud. “Blazes, if I’d been there I could have protected Jeanne. I would have killed all of the lowly humans who dared to harm her! But who…who was responsible for this?”

  Dantalion continued his research about what had happened to Jeanne after she’d sealed him to that tree. The demon discovered that King Charles VII had betrayed Jeanne. After Jeanne’s defeat in Paris, Charles VII had refused to give her reinforcements for her army. After that, Jeanne was captured in a battle against the Burgundians by the English-allied Burgundian faction. She was then handed over to the English, and put on trial by the pro-English Bishop of Beauvais, Pierre Cauchon, on a variety of charges.

  While she awaited trial she’d been locked up in a tower. The thought of Jeanne being locked up in a prison cell somewhere, and being held there against her will made Dantalion furious. King Charles VII failed to pay Jeanne’s ransom…and she was convicted and then burned at the stake.

  Jeanne was burned at the stake? For heresy? Dantalion tilted his head back and let out a roar of anger and frustration. It was absurd. He grabbed the table in front of him and overturned it. “Foolish humans…how could they condemn an innocent girl to die like that? Especially, one so pure…so perfect…so strong. Screw you, Charles. You’re lucky you’re dead or I’d have your head! No, first I’d torture you…drag out your death so that it would be slow and painful. It would be what you deserve.”

  The Duke of Hell was so enraged by what had happened to Jeanne that he went on a rampage inside of the library, and began overturning tables and bookshelves throughout the building. He threw a few computers monitors down on the floor and one exploded. A fire started and the books began to catch on fire and burn.

  The sight of the flames only made Dantalion even angrier. He could picture Jeanne in his mind…burning…the flesh melting off her lovely bones. Her terrified screams filling the air. She must have been in so much pain.

  Destroy. Dantalion thought as he watched everything begin to burn. He’d learned all he needed to know anyways. Or at least enough for now. The demon was sure anything else he could learn would only enrage him further. Humans were such foolish creatures. They were always burning or crucifying the only humans among them that had any merit.

  As curls of black smoke hit the smoke detectors the sprinkler system was activated inside of the library. The alarm was blaring nosily as Dantalion stomped his way out of the library. He opened the front door and exited, his cape billowing out behind him.

  The demon began to walk down the sidewalk with swift steps and the exercise helped to cool his anger. The past was the past, and there was nothing he could do about what had happened to his Jeanne. Dantalion shook his head of such thoughts. He should hate Jeanne for her betrayal, but learning her history had only saddened and angered Dantalion.

  As Dantalion began to think more clearly, the wheels in his mind began to turn. He deduced that he would need to create a human identity in order to begin his new life living as a human in this strange city. In order to do that he would need the proper identifications that he’d read about in the history books. He would need to procure a drivers license, which could be acquired at a place called a DMV, a passport and a Social Security number. If he went to the American Embassy and used his hypnosis he knew that he would be able to easily acquire the last two identifications that he would need.

  However, all the places he needed to visit wouldn’t be open until tomorrow morning. At that moment, Dantalion’s stomach rumbled. He stopped and looked around his surroundings while trying to discover what had made the strange sound. His stomach rumbled again and he put a hand over his stomach. When his stomach rumbled a third time, he finally understood. He was hungry. Or rather, his now weak human body needed sustenance. How bothersome.

  Apparently, he needed to find food, and then shelter for the night or else he might freeze to death. This weak human body is high maintenance. Dantalion looked around him at the strange, tall buildings and bright, artificial lights. These were the modern-day dwellings of the humans. But after having done his research at the library, Dantalion understood that one needed money to acquire such a dwelling. Dantalion’s lack of money would also have to be rectified as soon as possible.

  The demon knew that he could acquire free lodgings using his hypnosis but didn’t want to waste the little demonic power he had left on such a task. Instead, he decided to find a temporary place to sleep for the night. Dantalion suddenly remembered the park he’d awaken in. He now knew that the name of the park was ‘Central Park’. He remembered seeing several filthy, foul-smelling humans dressed in tattered clothing just sitting around or sleeping under the small bridge there. He now knew these people to be ‘homeless’.

  Dantalion’s nose scrunched
up at the thought of being considered ‘homeless’, but unfortunately that’s exactly what he was at the moment. The park would have to do as a suitable place to spend the night. Dantalion made his way back to Central Park and entered. He walked through the park until he saw a large flock of pigeons pecking away at some birdseed on the ground.

  Ah, dinner. Dantalion unsheathed his black iron great sword and approached the flock of pigeons as quietly as he could. Just as he was almost upon them the flock noticed his presence and took off into the sky. The Duke of Hell sprang into action and charged forward with a battle cry. His sword flashed through the air as he stabbed pigeons through their bodies with quick, deadly jabs. Dantalion’s movements were graceful as if he were dancing. The demon killed several of the elusive birds and the bodies of dead pigeons began to fall on the ground all around him. He killed twenty pigeons in all.

  He swished his sword through the air to remove the blood from its blade before he sheathed it. That’s when the demon could feel curious eyes upon him, but he ignored this as he collected his haul. He sat down upon the ground, cross-legged, and began to pluck and gut the birds with a dagger he pulled from his boot. Once Dantalion had finished preparing the birds, he pulled one of the birds into his lap, and ripped off a leg. Dantalion was about to sink his teeth into the raw pigeon meat, when-

  A stranger called out to him. “Hold it right there, sonny boy,” Came a gravely voice.

  Dantalion turned to see a middle-aged man hobbling towards him. Dantalion deduced the man to be around sixty years of age. He had white hair, an unkempt white beard, and was wearing tattered clothes. The human had a slight limp, and gripped a crudely made wooden cane in his right hand. The man’s left arm ended in a metal hook instead of a hand.

  The human snatched the pigeon leg out of Dantalion’s hand before the demon could react. “You can’t eat that.” The homeless man objected.

  Dantalion stood using his full height of six-five to intimidate the man as he glared down at him. “How dare you steal my food, you lowly human? Normally, I would have beheaded you instantly.” Dantalion crossed his arms over his chest. “Consider yourself lucky that my circumstances have recently changed.” My curiosity for what it would be like to live as a human currently outweighs anything else. I can’t help but wonder how things might have been had I been born a human like Jeanne, and we’d met under more normal circumstances. Would we have fallen in love? Gotten married? Had a family?

  The man’s broken laughter cut through Dantalion’s strange thoughts. “Oh? Are you going to kill me with that sword of yours? I watched you as you killed those pigeons. That was pretty impressive.” He gave Dantalion an expectant look as if he expected Dantalion to explain how he’d managed to do that.

  Dantalion shrugged. “I was in…the army.” This wasn’t exactly a lie either. Dantalion had been a commander of demonic legions for as far back as he could remember. “I excel in the art of killing.”

  Instead of looking frightened by Dantalion’s declaration the man looked bemused. “I see. I was in the military too.” The man stroked his beard thoughtfully before spreading his arms wide. “If you want to kill me - go right ahead. I don’t have much to live for anyways.”

  Dantalion removed his hand from the hilt of his sword. This human was not afraid of death. He had to respect that. “What do you want, human?” The demon growled in a low voice. He was growing impatient.

  “If you’re so desperate to eat those birds…you need to cook them first. They’ll end up tasting much better! Bring your birds and come with me. I know just where to go.” The man quickly explained with a glint in his pale blue eyes before turning and slowly walking away.

  Dantalion hesitated for a moment, before deciding to just go along with the human for the time being. His curiosity was getting the better of him. He began to follow the man through the park.

  “Hey, so what’s your name, sonny boy?” The man asked in a light-hearted tone.

  “Dantalion.”

  The man looked behind him and raised a bushy eyebrow at the strange youth. “That’s quite a mouthful. Why don’t I just call you Dante? I’m Fred, by the way. You have an accent…are you French?”

  A muscle beneath Dantalion’s eye ticked. The impertinence of this man was unbelievable. How dare this lowly human shorten his name? And apparently his English was not perfect. This irritated Dantalion immensely. But, perhaps, he could use the guise of being a foreigner to his advantage. “Yes, I’m French.”

  Fred nodded knowingly. “I see, I see. Maybe it’s normal for French people to eat raw pigeons. They do eat frogs and snails!” He chuckled to himself in amusement.

  Dantalion decided not to comment. The demon followed Fred to a different area of the park where several homeless people were huddled around metal trashcans that had fires burning within them for warmth.

  “Hey guys!” Fred greeted the others casually. “Lookie what I have here. It’s a newcomer and he’s brought food! Let’s cook up these here…chickens! They’re fresh.”

  Chickens? Dantalion mused. He knew what a chicken was and the birds he’d killed were most certainly not chickens. He shrugged. There must have been a reason why Fred chose to lie about the type of fowl he’d procured.

  “Hey Fred, honey,” a plump woman dressed in a purple, flower-print dress greeted while giving Dantalion a curious, sidelong look. She did a double take as she looked at the handsome demon over from head to toe. “Fred…have you been drinking again? He’s obviously not…one of us.”

  Dantalion stiffened at the woman’s keen words. Had he been found out already? Was this old woman a witch? Did she know his true form? His eyes narrowed at the woman and he paid her a little more attention. The woman was probably around the same age as Fred. Her mousy brown hair had gray streaks and had been pulled back into a tight bun. There were age lines around her eyes. Her eyes were filled with sadness, regret and fear. This woman had obviously suffered greatly in her life.

  Fred frowned at his wife. “Hilda, I don’t know if the kid’s homeless or not, but…he’s definitely in need. He’s starving. He was about to eat those…chickens raw. So let’s help him out with cooking his chickens first. After that we’ll see about the rest.”

  Hilda looked at the bundle of twenty birds in Dantalion’s arms. “They’re a little small for chickens. But I suppose you’re right. Alright, young man, bring those birds over here. We’ll spit them on sticks and roast them over these here fires.”

  Dantalion nodded and approached Hilda. Together they spitted all of the birds and soon had them roasting over the fires. The demon couldn’t fail but notice the hungry looks his ‘chickens’ were getting from the other homeless people. He sighed. Pathetic humans…they can’t even catch their own dinner?

  “When they’re ready…do help yourself gentlemen and of course ladies.” Dantalion drawled obligingly to the group of homeless people that were huddling around the trashcans. He was surprised at himself for being so…nice. Being nice to the humans was much easier than it should have been. But if he was going to be living amongst the humans he needed to fit in and ‘play nice’. It was only the wisest course of action.

  “YEA!” “Whoo!” “Yes!” “Food! Oh, thank God!” “God bless you.” “God has sent us a savior!” “No, an angel.” The homeless people burst out various excited exclamations.

  Angel? This time a muscle in Dantalion’s jaw ticked. How ironic.

  When Lucifer ordered him to kill all of the people in this city later on…he would do it because he was Lucifer’s pawn, a Great Duke of Hell, a warrior, a killer. In France he and his legions of demons had wiped out several villages until Jeanne d’Arc had stopped his demonic army. After that, the Apocalypse had been postponed once more. But now a new stage for the Apocalypse had been set, and this country of ‘America’ was where everything would begin.

  He would kill all of these pathetic humans without a thought later on because he’d just be following orders. That
was what war was all about…mindless slaughter. Dantalion’s thoughts were tinged with a bitterness he didn’t understand. He couldn’t get over the irony of these humans that he would probably later kill calling him things like: ‘God sent’. God has clearly abandoned these people. Just as he abandoned Jeanne d’Arc. The thought made Dantalion want to take these people under his wing of protection suddenly. Such a strange thought.

  “Hardly.” Dantalion objected gruffly as he tore off a now cooked pigeon leg and took a bite out of it. The meat was succulent and only slightly tough. He was incredibly hungry though, so he thought it tasted delicious. Now I understand the human saying of hunger is the greatest spice.

  All the homeless people were happy and thanked Dantalion profusely for his generosity. They all began to eat together. It was a strange feeling…being surrounded by humans and for them to be ‘accepting’ him. They weren’t running from him in fear or yelling out things like: “It’s a demon!” “Run for your lives!” “Oh no…it’s a monster!” “Someone please help me!” Strange indeed.

  Fred put a hand on Dantalion’s shoulder. “You okay, sonny boy? You look pale.”

  Dantalion shrugged the hand off his shoulder. “Of course, I’m okay…why wouldn’t I be?” He snapped. “Tell me, old man, why do all these people live like this? Aren’t we currently in America? The great country known as the Land of the Free? It’s supposed to be a rich and prosperous land…but if that is true then why are there still ‘homeless’? Shouldn’t everyone here be living the ‘American Dream’?”

  Fred blinked back at Dantalion in shock before he began to laugh bitterly. “It’s unusual for a kid your age to be worried about these things. Appearance is not always truth, kid. Yes, this is a beautiful, rich country filled with opportunity, but…it’s not like that for everyone. There’s a great divide in this country between the very rich and the very poor. There’s barely a middle class anymore. Recently, the rich keep getting richer and poor keep getting poorer.”

  “I see. Go on.” Dantalion was interested in the state of affairs in this country that he’d been transported to.

  Fred looked pleased that Dantalion was paying attention to what he was saying. He got lonely since the other homeless people would tire of his political rants, opinions on current events and conspiracy theories. “It’s a pity but this amazing country still has things like unemployment, homeless people and orphans, but the news never talks about things like that. The news likes to distract people from what’s really going on inside of their own country by controlling them with their fear. That’s why the news is always concentrating on the war overseas or on natural disasters.”

  “Oh boy, here he goes.” Hilda rolled her eyes. “Careful Dante, once you getting him going, he won’t stop for hours!”

  Fear? Dantalion mused to himself. This was something he’d used countless times before to manipulate humans and bring them to their knees. “From what I understand a government’s policies usually reflect the population’s fears.”

  Fred nodded in agreement. “Everything’s about terrorism these days. But the truth is the truth. They say we’re out of the recession, but if that were true then why did all of the people here lose their jobs and homes?” Fred waved his hand at the group of homeless people.

  “Indeed.” Dante agreed as he stroked his chin in thought

  “These folks were all normal, hardworking people until they lost everything, but no one cares. No one does anything to help us. We’re probably just an eyesore to the people living in this city. If they could legally get rid of us they probably would.” Fred’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

  “You’re forgetting about her.” Hilda spoke up. “She comes here at least once a week and brings us food whenever she can.”

  “Ah, yes…there is her.” Fred agreed with a solemn nod and a crooked smile.

  Now Dantalion was curious. “Her?”

  “Joan.” Fred revealed. And Dantalion’s heart skipped a beat at the name. “Joan Simone. She’s a famous tennis player. She even won a Golden Slam!”

  “Golden Slam?” Dantalion tilted his head to the side.

  “Ah, do you know much about tennis?” Fred asked and Dantalion shook his head in response. “Well…the Grand Slam tournaments are the most important annual tennis events. There are four of them. If you win all four tournaments, and manage to get yourself a gold medal at the Olympics as well you have won a ‘Golden Grand Slam’.”

  “Impressive.” Dantalion recalled reading about the sport tennis very briefly. It reminded him of ‘jeu de paume’ or ‘game of the palm’ that he used to play with his men back in France over five hundred years ago. But the sport had been modernized and now people used rackets and not the palms of their hands to hit the ball.

  “She had a bright career ahead of her until the accident.” Hilda said sadly and her eyes began to tear up.

  “Accident?” Dantalion’s interest was again piqued and his interest in a human female surprised him.

  “She was in a car accident. Her rival hit her car from behind and Joan broke her leg. Her rival wasn’t so lucky and died in the accident. After that Joan wasn’t able to move fast enough to keep playing tennis. The poor dear, having to give up her dream. I wonder what she’s doing now.” Hilda said as she dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief.

  “Joan Simone.” Dantalion echoed before he put his face in his hand. What the hell was he thinking? Just because the girl’s last name was French didn’t mean that she had any connection whatsoever to Jeanne d’Arc. Jeanne died five hundred and eighty-four years ago. She’d been burned at the stake. Joan was a common name now in this era. In fact, there were probably millions of Joans and Jeannes. Dantalion finished eating and watched as the others finished their meal as well.

  A young man, who was probably no older than thirteen, brought out a strange looking trunk that was red and white. Hilda opened it to reveal that there were strange looking containers and glass bottles inside that appeared to have been kept cold. In fact, the device was filled with ice. Dantalion couldn’t help but be impressed that the ice was not melting. What a strange contraption.

  Hilda took out a can of Coca-Cola and tossed it to Dantalion. He caught it out of reflex and discovered that the can was indeed cold. Hilda threw one to Fred, which he fumbled to catch with his one good hand.

  “Geez woman!” Fred complained. He opened his can of coke and raised it up towards Dantalion. “Cheers! To new friends. Or um…à votre santé, right?”

  Friend? No one has ever called me that before. Dantalion mimicked how Fred had opened the can and raised it. “À votre santé.”

  Fred brought the can to his lips and drank heartily. “Ah! There’s nothing better than Coca-Cola!”

  Dantalion brought the can to his lips and took a sip. His eyes widened at the strange fizzy sensation, and the sweet, but not overly sweet taste. He looked down at the can in astonishment. “That’s good.” His surprise was evident. The humans managed to invent such an interesting drink. Perhaps, there’s hope for them yet.

  Hilda looked amused by Dantalion’s obvious appreciation of the can of soda and tittered. “You’re acting like you’ve never had a Coca-Cola before! Trying to stay true to that medieval costume of yours, young man?”

  “He’s French.” Fred said, by way of explanation.

  “Ah. That’s explains everything.” Hilda nodded knowingly to herself.

  “Coca-Cola.” Dantalion repeated. Human beverages were truly amazing. “Fred. Is there anything else similar to this Coca-Cola, but different?”

  “Uh…sure, we have different flavors of soda. Orange soda, Sprite, 7-Up, Dr. Pepper…” Fred trailed off.

  “Bring them to me.” Dantalion ordered firmly.

  “Er,” Fred hesitated and shot the young man a questioning look.

  Dantalion met the man’s eyes and repeated the command. “I said: bring all of the human beverages to me so I can sample them at once!”


  “U-Understood, Dante.” Fred stammered as he rushed over to the cooler and selected one of each drink that was inside. With an armful of beverages, Fred returned to Dantalion’s side. He set the drinks on the ground before the demon. “Here you go, kid.”

  Dantalion was already reaching out to pick up a can of orange soda. He opened the can and took a sip. His eyes widened. “Delicious.” He opened a can of Dr. Pepper next and tried it. “Superb.” He tried Pepsi, 7-Up, Gatorade, Red Bull, Beer, Rum, and Vodka. Some of the alcoholic beverages, he recognized. After all, beverages like wine and rum had existed in France in the 1400s.

  Fred chuckled at the young man’s enthusiasm for the beverages. It took him back. He used to be just as enthusiastic about drinks…or rather in the art of mixing them. “Hey, kid. Try combining rum and coke in your mouth.” Fred suggested with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  Dantalion raised an eyebrow at Fred. “Rum and…Coca-Cola? That would be an absurd combination!”

  “Just try it, kid. Trust me.” Fred urged with a huff.

  Dantalion shrugged and tilted his head back before pouring some rum and some coke into his mouth. He swished the two drinks together and swallowed. His eyes widened. That had been surprisingly good. Really good. “That tasted good, old man.” Dantalion conceded grudgingly. Dantalion hated being wrong about anything.

  Fred smiled knowingly. “That drink is called a Cuba Libre.”

  “Cuba Libre.” Dantalion repeated. “Do you know of any other ‘drinks’ or ‘drink combinations’ that I should try, old man?”

  Fred scratched his head and a flea jumped off. “Well, sadly our selection here is quite limited but…try a Vodka Red Bull. Just…use that bottle of Absolut Vodka over there and that can of Red Bull.” He directed as he pointed at the Absolut bottle with his hook and then the small can of Red Bull.

  Dantalion nodded and sampled this drink next. “How fascinating.” These human beverages are incredible. The combinations of the drinks create such interesting flavors. “Fred. I wish to learn more. I want to know more about…these human beverages. And how to make them. Teach me.” The demon gave Fred an expectant look.

  Fred’s eyes widened in surprise before his expression softened. “You don’t want to know about how to make ‘beverages’. You want to know how to become a bartender. You want to learn how to make cocktails, martinis, and shooters.”

  Dantalion had no idea what any of those things were, but nodded. “Yes, Fred. Teach me.”

  Fred grinned a toothy smile showing the gaps in his teeth. “Then I have just the book for you. It will tell you all you need to know to be a proper bartender and all of the drinks a bartender should memorize.” The old man ran off and entered a pitched tent. He returned a moment later with a dusty book. He smoothed his hand over the cover to lovingly remove any lingering dirt before he handed it to Dantalion. “This book taught me everything I know.”

  Dantalion took the book, the title read: The Ultimate Bar Book by Mittie Hellmich. He gave Fred a curious look. “Old man, you were a bartender?”

  Fred puffed up his chest with pride. “Yes, well, I started out as a bartender, and later I opened up my own restaurant.”

  “What is a bartender considered to be in this era?” Dantalion asked, needing clarification. Obviously, bartenders had existed in the 1400s but perhaps their role had changed somewhat.

  Fred faltered. “Er…an artist who mixes alcoholic drinks at a bar.”

  “A drink artist.” Dantalion mused aloud and a smile curled his lips. The demon had always had a thing for the arts. And he liked that the process of mixing drinks had become much more complex than he remembered. “I see. Why did you stop being a bartender?”

  Fred held up his hook. “When the military sent me overseas to Afghanistan I lost my hand during a battle. When I returned I wasn’t able to learn how to cook one-handed fast enough, and my restaurant went down the tubes. Now I can cook one-handed pretty easily but…it’s too late. It’s difficult to mix drinks with only one arm too, and no one would hire me anyways because I would just scare the customers away with my appearance. That’s how I ended up like…this.” Fred waved his hook around the homeless camp, obvious sadness and regret in his gruff voice.

  Dantalion sat down on the ground, cross-legged, and began to read. All through the night the demon read uninterrupted for five hours straight. He was so into his book that no one had the heart to disturb him.

  At around five o’clock in the morning Dantalion finished reading the bartending book and shut it. The sound of the book snapping shut awoke Fred, who had been nearby dozing on and off. “Already finish the book, kid?”

  Kid? Dantalion was thousands of years old. He would normally kill someone for such an insult but…he was feeling extremely accommodating lately. “Yes.”

  “What did you think of it?” Fred could not hide his obvious excitement to know Dantalion’s opinion.

  “It was…fascinating.” The demon admitted. “Several of these beverages I have never heard of, nor have I tried before. I am…” Dantalion searched for the word to best explain what he was feeling. “Excited to get to try them all.”

  Fred nodded in understanding. “You’ll have to read it a few more times to truly memorize it…and that’s only if you have an interest in becoming a bartender.”

  “I have already memorized the book.” Dantalion assured.

  Fred blinked. “Eh? You’re pulling my leg, right, kid?”

  Dantalion smirked. “Test me, old man.”

  “Hmph.” Fred’s bushy brows rose to his hairline. “Okay…then tell me, kid, how do you make a Mojito?”

  “Place two teaspoons of sugar, eight mint leaves and a little club soda into a highball glass. Stir well to release the sugar and mint flavor. Squeeze the juice from two halves of one halved lime into the glass. Drop one half of the lime into the glass. Add two ounces of light rum and stir. Fill the glass with ice cubes, add club soda to the glass, and garnish with a sprig of mint.” Dantalion repeated the instructions that had been inside of the book, word for word.

  Fred nearly fell over. “Okay. That was an easy one. How about a Tequila Sunrise?”

  “Pour two ounces of tequila and four ounces of orange juice into a highball glass with ice cubes. Stir. Slowly pour half an ounce of grenadine around the inside edge of the glass. It will sink and slowly rise to mix with the other ingredients naturally. Garnish with a slice of orange and a Maraschino cherry.”

  “Margarita?”

  “Pour one and a half ounces of tequila, half an ounce of triple sec, and one ounce fresh lime juice into a cocktail shaker with ice cubes. Shake well. If desired, salt the rim of a chilled margarita glass. Pour the contents with ice into the glass. Garnish with a lime wedge.”

  Fred put a hand to his head. Perhaps, the young man was a prodigy. “Foreigners really are something else. I don’t think us Americans have brains that work quite like that. Okay, kid, so…what are you planning to do while you’re here in New York?”

  “I’m going to become the greatest bartender in this city.” Dantalion deadpanned with a glint in his golden eyes. If there was anything Dantalion liked - it was a challenge. It made the blood flow through his veins and gave him a rush.

  Fred fell over.

  To be continued in…Drink 2: Screaming Orgasm

  Dantalion: “Hello, lowly human, so you wish to know how to make a Dark and Stormy do you? Well, it is not for the faint of heart. You build the following ingredients in a highball glass (otherwise known as a tall glass) filled with ice cubes: 2 ounces of Gosling’s Black Seal Rum, and 3 ounces Barrit’s ginger beer. Garnish the drink with a lime wedge. Enjoy. Don’t forget that the legal drinking age is 21 and drink responsibly.”