by N. P. Martin
Once Frank had gone outside to bury the bodies of Patrick and Letty, I located a Summoning Spell inside of one of Frank’s demonology books, tearing out the page, folding it up and putting it inside my jacket pocket. I obviously couldn’t do the summoning in the cabin, so I would have to go out into the woods to do it instead, well away from Frank.
Before I left, I stopped outside my bedroom door to listen for a moment. Through the cracks in the door, I could see a strange yellowish light coming from inside. I could also hear Eva mumbling words in a low voice; words that sounded incomprehensible to my uneducated ears. I listened hard for any signs that Lucas was awake, but I heard none. When my hand hovered over the door knob, I was tempted to turn it and enter the room, but I didn’t. Instead, I walked away, out the front door of the cabin and off into the woods.
It was the early hours of the morning, so it was still dark and cold, the clear sky still fall of stars. As I walked deeper into the dark woods, I was well aware that I might be making a huge mistake. It was a risk, offering up my soul to some as yet unknown demon, for a weapon that may or may not exist, and if it did exist, may or may not kill Abigor. But I also knew that even if it was highly likely that Abigor was fucking with me in some way, that I still had to take the chance. The times couldn’t get any more desperate. I mean, the world was about to end—things couldn’t get much worse than that.
I must have walked for about fifteen minutes, stopping only when I came across a small clearing that was deep inside the woods. The silence was oppressive as I looked around, my night vision helping me see. There was a chance that Abigor had posted his minions around the place, though after surveying my surroundings carefully, I saw nothing that aroused my suspicion or made me feel as if I’d been followed. Aside from a few woodland creatures scurrying through the undergrowth, I was completely alone.
Reaching into my jacket, I took out the page from the book. Then I emitted a slight grace glow from my other hand and held it over the page like a torch, so I could see the words clearly. The ritual called for a number of things, including a circle of protection, iron, salt, runic candles and a few other items, but I wasn’t bothering with any of that. It was all for protection, which I wasn’t too worried about. Sure, I was being reckless, but I also didn’t have time to fuck about.
After clearing my throat, I began to read the invocation written on the page. The words were in a language that I struggled to wrap my tongue around, so I told myself I would just keep reading it over and over until something happened. The words were important, but so was the intent of the one who read them. So when I spoke the words, I held the steadfast conviction that I wanted to speak to a demon interested in doing a deal for my soul.
That was the most terrifying aspect of the ritual for me. It wasn’t that I was going to be face to face with another demon, it was that I was offering my soul to whichever demon could help me. The enormity of that caused a tightness in my chest, as if my soul was pushing to get out before I traded it away to some demon.
"You can stop reading now."
The voice came from behind and I spun around, dropping the page as I thrust my hand out in front of me, which was already loaded with grace and ready to fire. Standing there was a youngish guy in a dark suit, his hair blonde, his eyes a piercing blue. He looked less like a demon and more like a damn salesman, which I supposed was fitting, giving what he was there to do.
"Who are you?" I asked him, which was a dumb question, but I wasn’t sure what else to say.
"Duh," the demon said. "I’m the one you just summoned, love." His accent was English, and he had a sarcastic smile. "You can go ahead and lower that grace. I won’t bite you. My name is Mullin, by the way." He gave a small, somewhat mocking bow. "At your service."
I stared at him a moment longer before warily lowering my hand, but keeping the grace just below the surface in case I needed it quick. "Leia," I said.
He smiled. "Yes, I know, or should I say, I know your mother. She has quite the reputation in Hell."
My jaw dropped slightly as I stared at him. Was he fucking with me?
"You’ve met my mother?"
"More than once, yes. Looking at you now is like looking at a younger version of her, though not as…haunted."
"Haunted?" I shook my head, still reeling from the acknowledgment present in his words, that my mother was really in Hell. Until now, everyone had just been assuming that’s where she was. No one had actually seen her there. Now here was this Mullin, verifying what everyone had been thinking for years.
My mother was really in Hell.
Or Mullin could just be fucking with me, as demons do, but I didn’t think so.
"Do you grant favors, Mullin?"
He put his hands in his trouser pockets and stood casually. "I thought you were going to say wishes there for a second, to which I would have replied, I’m a demon, darling, not a Djinn. I hate those fuckers, you can’t trust them."
I snorted. "That’s rich."
Mullin took a few steps toward me, and I tensed up until he stopped. "Look love, you put the call out, I answered. I’m here to do business. I make deals, it’s what I do." His smile was disarming and cold at the same time. "You’re lucky I answered your call as well. There are plenty of other demons out there that could’ve answered, and who aren’t as nice as I am. I also see you haven’t bothered with any protective measures, which means you are either naive or foolish."
"Neither," I said, thinking that I was both. "I’m just in a hurry. Do you know a demon named Abigor?"
He thought for a second, then shook his head. "Can’t say that I do."
"Seriously? He was like, the architect of Hell, one of the original Fallen."
Mullin sighed and rolled his eyes. "Listen, love, Hell is not the purely fire and brimstone place that it used to be. It’s changed a lot over the millennia, it’s become more…sophisticated. No one cares much anymore about the old guard. Most of them have been usurped and forgotten by demons like me, who have a different vision of how things should be."
"Uh huh. Well, this Abigor, who you say no one cares about anymore, is here in this world, and he intends to take it over or destroy it…probably both."
Nodding, Mullin said, "I see. Sounds like a desperate attempt by an old geriatric bastard at becoming relevant again. Pathetic really."
I shook my head at his dismissiveness. "Well, pathetic or not, the bastard is doing real damage and needs to be stopped."
He chuckled as he looked me up and down. "What, and you’re going to do it, are you? No offense, but you don’t look like much of a threat to me, love. I doubt this Abigor will quake in his boots at the sight of you."
Asshole.
I took a breath to keep my rage down. "First of all, fuck you. Second of all, do you want to do a deal or not? Or did you just come here to mock me?"
"That depends," he said as he folded his arms. "What kind of deal did you have in mind?"
"I need something called the Demon Blade," I said. "It’s meant to be in Hell. You ever heard of it?"
Mullin nodded slowly as he narrowed his eyes at me. "How could you possibly have heard of the Demon Blade? It’s rarely spoken off, even in Hell."
"Abigor told me about it. He thinks I won’t go after it, but he’s wrong about that, obviously. Can you get it or not?"
He took a deep breath and considered for a moment. "Such a rare item will cost you dear, but I think you are aware of this already."
I nodded. "Yes, I am."
"Well," he said coming closer. "I’m not one to turn down the opportunity to acquire myself a Nephilim soul, so I’m quite willing to do a deal here. Your soul for the Demon Blade."
Jesus, I thought in a burst of panic. Am I really about to trade away my soul?
Yes, I was, because no matter how terrified I was, I knew I had no choice.
"You have a deal," I said quietly, the words feeling heavy in my mouth.
Mullin smiled as he reached inside his jacket and took ou
t a long piece of parchment, which he unrolled to about two feet in length, holding it up for me to see, or see as well as I could in the darkness. "This is our contract. You need to sign it."
"Jesus," I said shaking my head. "The whole idea just seems farcical, signing a fucking contract. What...do you demons just carry these around in your pocket for a rainy fucking day?"
Mullin just smiled. "You can’t do business without contracts."
I shook my head. "Whatever, just let me see it." When he handed me the long parchment, I saw that one side was completely covered in text, amounting to millions of tinily written words. "This isn’t even in English."
"No, it’s in Hellion. Would you like me to translate? It might take a while, though…" He smiled deviously.
"Fuck you. You know I don’t have time."
"Well then, I’ll give you the short version. It simply states that in return for your immortal soul, I will get you what you want, which is the Demon Blade."
"It takes all these words just to say that?"
"Most of what is written there is just terms and conditions, boring fine print, nothing to worry about."
"I’m sure," I said making a face at him.
"So are you going to sign or not?"
Last chance to back out…
"You got a pen?" I said eventually, wondering if my mother felt this pressured when she signed her contract, which in hindsight I suppose she did, given procuring Frank's soul and returning it to his body must've been time critical.
As Mullin pulled out a long dagger from inside his jacket, I took a step back. "Relax," he said. "What do you think, that I’m going to stab you? We’re making a deal here. The knife is to draw blood so you can sign the contract. Hold out your left hand."
"Why not the right?"
"It’s always the left. You Nephilim have no respect for tradition."
I held out my left hand, and he quickly pricked my thumb with the tip of the knife. I then hovered my bloody thumb over the end of the contract, hesitating for a further moment before finally sighing and pressing my thumb against the parchment, leaving a bloody print behind.
The deal was done. There was no turning back now.
Mullin took the parchment from me, rolled it up and slid it inside his jacket again.
"Don’t I get a copy?"
"Don’t worry, I’ll have a copy sent to your secretary."
"Jesus, you’re a sarcastic prick, aren’t you?"
"Well, don’t ask silly questions. Of course you don’t get a copy."
"I think my lawyer might like to look it over."
"Who’s being sarcastic now? Besides, there is no looking it over. The deal is done. Accept it."
Asshole.
"So now what?" I asked as he put the dagger away.
"Now I take you to Hell so you can get the Demon Blade," he said casually.
I shook my head. "Wait, what?"
Mullin smiled. "The deal’s for you to get the Demon Blade. I didn’t say how. Did you think I would just click my fingers and the weapon would appear in my hands?"
"Well, yes, something like that. I didn’t think I would have to go to fucking Hell!"
Sighing exaggeratedly, he said, "Life is full of disappointments. Are you ready to go?"
"To Hell? I…"
Who is actually ready to go to Hell? I mean, really!
He shook his head in mild annoyance. "Don’t worry, where you are going, you won’t be in the thick of it, so to speak. The Demon Blade is kept in a very isolated part of Hell."
"Isolated? That doesn’t make me feel any better."
"Look," Mullin said. "I really don’t care. You either come with me to retrieve the sword, or I just leave right now with your soul. It’s up to you."
As I took hold of his outstretched hand, I thought to myself, Fucking demons.
Then it was off to Hell.
34
Within a second of me grabbing Mullin’s hand, it felt as if my whole body disintegrated, and suddenly, I was sucked up into the ether and transported at great speed; a speed so fast, I could barely comprehend it. Not that I had time to comprehend anything at all, for in the blink of an eye, my atoms were reassembled and I found myself standing on a narrow ledge of the side of a great mountain. The wind was gusting so strongly, I had to fight to keep my balance and stop myself being blown off the ledge. To the front of me was a mountainous landscape that was covered in thick dark clouds, out of which red forks of lightning came like jagged serpent tongues. The whole environment was also shrouded in a strange sort of muted red light that only served to give the place an overall nastier feel.
"Is this Hell?" I asked Mullin dumbly as he stood with his hands in his pockets, as if the wind and extreme height didn’t bother him at all.
"Yes," he said smiling. "Lovely, isn’t it? This place would be classed as the Outer Reaches. Not much lives here, if anything can be said to 'live' in Hell."
As if to prove him wrong, a loud screeching sound came from above, quickly followed by a long, dark shape moving through the clouds. "What’s that then?"
"That is a Skyscreamer. Nothing to worry about, unless it sees you." Mullin then gestured behind me at the opening to a cave. "I suggest you get in there and find what you are looking for before the serpent comes back."
I turned and looked into the pitch black maw of the cave, then looked back at Mullin. "You aren’t coming to help me?"
He shook his head as if the very thought was anathema to him. "No way, love. I’ll just wait here."
"But…" I shook my head. "I don’t even know what to look for."
"You’re looking for a sword. You’ll know it when you see it."
Cheeky bastard.
The cave looked to be about the most uninviting thing I’d ever seen, and I felt a long entrenched sense of claustrophobia rise in me, tightening my chest. "What’s in there?" I asked, a note of panic in my voice. "Are there…things in there?"
"Things?" Mullin tittered to himself. "You’re in Hell, love, there’s nothing but things."
I shook my head. "This isn’t what I had in mind when I sold my fucking soul, you know. Aren’t you supposed to help me or something? There’s nothing stopping you teleporting in there and getting the sword yourself."
"You’re right," he said. "There isn’t anything stopping me, but I’m still not going to do it."
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "It’s not my job to do the legwork for people. It’s in the contract, if you’d bothered to read it. Just give me a shout when you come back out. If you come back out."
"Bothered to read it?" I began. "Are you fucking—"
He disappeared before I got any further.
Fucker!
"Wait! You can’t fucking leave me here! Mullin! Shit!"
Another loud screeching sound from above startled me as the Skyscreamer passed overhead again, but lower this time, to the point where I could make out most of what it looked like. From the brief glimpse I got of the creature (and a brief glimpse was enough, believe me), I saw that it closely resembled a dragon from Oriental lore, having a massive horned head and a long body with spikes running at intervals along its spine. Its scaly skin was a dark green color, but this being Hell, the creature appeared to be rotting in places, having gaping holes all over it as if some disease were attacking it. I didn’t know what Skyscreamers fed on exactly, but I had no doubt the thing would view me as a tasty meal if it saw me, so I decided I needed to get out of sight quickly, and the only way to do that was to go inside the cave.
With no other choice, I turned and faced the dark opening.
Then I swallowed hard and walked into the pitch darkness.
Even with my enhanced night vision, I could barely see a thing when I entered the cave. It was like the darkness in Hell was somehow denser than it was on Earth. So I had to emit a beam of grace from my hand so I could see where I was going. Despite what Frank said about grace being finite, mine showed no signs of running dry just yet (thank
fuck!). That didn’t mean it wouldn’t run out at some stage, I just didn’t know when.
Maybe it won’t, maybe my grace is infinite.
It was a comforting thought, even though I doubted it was true. Why should I be so special when every other Nephilim’s grace was finite, as far as I knew anyway?
Evolution…good genes…pure luck…
I didn’t care at that point what the reason was, as long as I had light to see by in that dank hole.
It felt like I was trapped in a nightmare as I took small, tentative steps deeper into the cave. There was the fact that I was in Hell, for one, a fact I was still struggling to wrap my head around. It only seemed like five minutes ago that I made the decision to go down this path, and now here I was, in the damn thick of it. It was a little overwhelming, to say the least. Fucking terrifying, in fact, especially when you have a sometimes extreme case of claustrophobia. Even the steady influence of my grace couldn’t keep away the shortness of breath and the need to panic.
There was also the fact that the cave I was in seemed, I don’t know, just weird. The rock itself was a dirty black, the color of coal maybe, but much denser, almost like flint. Over every square inch of the rock there was also a thin film—a slimy substance, the origins of which I couldn’t even begin to fathom. It was like slug trail everywhere, but thicker. It also smelt terrible, like faeces.
Had some creature made this stuff, I wondered, or did the rock just secrete it somehow?
Who the fuck cares? Let’s just find the Demon Blade and get the fuck out of this place.
It seemed like a good plan for about five seconds, until another jarring thought, along with a bolt of fear, made me stop dead in my tracks.
What if Mullin’s lying? What if there’s nothing in here and he just left me?
