by Doug Rinaldi
While the lake of blood continued to grow, so did the fireball. A throaty roar shook the room as Devon released the unholy flaming discharge. The amorphous ball of hellfire made contact with Josef's body dead in the center of the chest. Intense heat and force tore a breach in his torso, cauterizing as it made its pass, throwing him backward into the door, destroying it. In the hallway, Josef's body made violent purchase with the wall where his body crushed the drywall and the beams behind.
A tremor vibrated the floor of the dressing room. Josef's Godlight faded, the fire within him becoming paler. Nevertheless, he completed his task, freeing the blood to do what it had to, which was nothing short of God's own will.
The hellfire crept out of the shadows, its fiery tongues inspecting Josef's smoldering form. Tendrils whipped about as if in victory. Still, Devon sensed something wrong. The tremors grew stronger. From underneath the floor, beams of golden light penetrated the pool of blood. Like a spotlight they searched the room—and they found what they were looking for.
It felt as if a bomb had detonated beneath the floor, shards of wood and tile bursting through the air. Daggers of wood struck the wall, pierced the plaster. Devon covered himself as best he could. Splinters of tile ripped into his flesh. Massive slivers infiltrated his skin.
Through the Godlight, Josef's metastatic blood reorganized, collecting and reforming at an alarming rate. Blinded as much by the shooting pain as by the light, Devon covered his eyes, struggling to block it all out. Searing hot agony gripped him as Josef's blood continued to churn and boil. He sloshed around in the hot red pool, looking for cover, fighting to figure out his next move. Devon shouted in his native tongue. However, he couldn't summon enough of the power he possessed. The Lifeblood had an unrelenting grip as it burned through his skin, melting the flesh from his body. Sticky crimson vices held him fast.
Devon was taken aback. In all of his dark wisdom, he hadn't expected this. He fought against the grip of both the pool of blood holding him in place, but struggling only made the Lifeblood's hold tighter. Devon unleashed a maddening cry that echoed throughout the building, shaking the rafters. The light continued to seep through the reddened pool as more bloody tendrils grabbed and latched without mercy onto his demonic form, slowly pulling him down into the boiling depths below. Even as he struggled, they only held tighter. He now was aware that he couldn't escape, but succumbing to the power of his enemy was never an option.
However, he could not die. As a spirit made—in part—of flesh and blood, he was destined to always be, to reign over all evil and darkness. He knew this wasn't the beginning, or the end. He wept, not in pain, but with anger and hatred. Abruptly the cries ended, silenced by Josef's blood as it mummified his body and pulled him deeper and deeper down to Hell.
Silence fell again, save for the crackle of small fires caused by the explosion. Out in the demolished hallway, Vivian lay naked and dead next to Josef. Puffs of smoke lifted from his gapping mouth. His eyes rolled open and his lips quivered as they moved. Nearing the certain death of his own mortal shell, he uttered one word before forfeiting to the summoning and irresistible call of the Light. "Checkmate..."
