Armageddon Bound

by Tim Marquitz

  another abandoned warehouse. I sighed when I saw it. Things hadn’t worked out so well at the last one so I didn’t expect it to be much better this time around. I debated on waiting for Rahim and Katon, but I didn’t know what kind of time schedule I was working with. So, rather than risk being too late I decided to go it alone. Besides, if I died in the line of duty they’d call me a hero. I’d get a better epitaph, at least. You gotta have priorities.

  I extended my senses and let the psychic feelers wander out. I could tell there had been some sort of magical outburst here, but the footprint didn’t feel the same as it had at the other locations. That could only mean one of two things. One, this was a trap. No big surprise there. Or two, this incident was unrelated to our Asmoday problem and I was walking in on something I didn’t want to deal with at this point. Neither was appealing. I guessed the only way to find out was to go inside.

  I drew one of my guns from my waistband, bitching to myself about not having a holster anymore, and went in through the open gate. The yard was windblown, with debris scattered along the base of the wire fence. Despite the fact the scene felt and looked different than the other locations, I couldn’t let my guard down. I ran to the docks and crept up the ramp slowly. At the top, the rolling door stood open. I had this strange sense of déjà vu hit me, broken only by Page 102

  the fact that the lights were on inside the building and there weren’t any of the long lines of shelves like the last place had. Too late to worry about it, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and went inside. Less than fifty yards into the barren warehouse, a man stood staring at me as I approached. I recognized him immediately. It was Asmoday. My first guess this was a trap was right. Chalk one up for me. Tall and lanky, Asmoday was dressed in an expensive, black business suit, cut to his thin figure. He wore an understated black and red tie, which hung from his narrow neck, a gold upside down cross pinned in the center of it. Light-complected, his full beard and short hair were jet black, so much so shimmers of blue appeared in them when he shifted under the lights. His lean face looked chiseled in wood, cut with sharp lines and delicate angles. His brown eyes, so dark as to appear black, settled on me. I could feel the weight of their stare. If ever a man truly fit the description of sinister, Asmoday was it.

  “Come in Triggaltheron, I was hoping it was you who would arrive first. I wanted to speak with you.” He waved me forward.

  Damn demons and their penchant for given names. Some people say true names give the wielder power over the named. That’s superstitious crap at its finest, but it definitely makes a guy uncomfortable when someone knows you well enough to name you Page 103

  fully. It sets a defensive tone to the whole encounter. I walked up to him, shaking my head. “Said the spider to the fly.”

  “Come now, do you truly think so little of me?”

  He feigned hurt.

  “I gotta say I’m not exactly a fan of anyone who lists wiping out existence as their top priority.”

  “But it’s in our nature. Are we not what God has made us to be?”

  He had a point. Damn demons. I hated these philosophical arguments. I always lost.

  “What do you want, Asmoday?”

  He didn’t hesitate to answer. “To know why you’ve turned away from your uncle’s path. He had such high hopes for you.”

  I tried my best to keep my expression neutral. I doubt I succeeded. My acting skills made Keanu Reeves look expressive.

  Years ago, when Lucifer came to me and told me my true nature, he threw my world into chaos. Raised by my mother until I was fifteen, I had no clue I was part devil. I had known I was different, but not even in my worst nightmares could I have imagined what I really was or what plans had been made for me. You see, while I was eventually able to accept my lineage, that wasn’t the worst of it. After decades of acclimating to Hell and learning about the abilities my heritage would one day grant me, I was told of my Page 104

  destiny. I was to be the next Anti-Christ. Talk about a head trip.

  “Lucifer’s path was never mine.”

  Asmoday shook his head. “You turned your back on your uncle, snubbing his inheritance. You passed on the greatest gift of power since God willed Lucifer into existence and for what? So you could pretend to be human?” He laughed, his voice melodic yet arctic cold. “There is no room for you amongst humanity. They would just as soon cast you to the pyre like the witches of old before they would ever accept you. You are pariah.”

  “Thanks for talking me up. I feel much better now.” The truth hurts sometimes.

  A semblance of warmth softened his features.

  “While your opportunity to take up the mantle of the Anti-Christ has passed, there are other offers to consider.” His eyes locked onto mine. “Embrace your true self. Join me and let us bring about the final days together, as your uncle decreed. Make him proud.”

  I’d always wondered what I’d given up, and for what. Life hadn’t exactly been all blowjobs and free porn since I’d returned to Earth. It had been rough. For as long as I could remember, I’d had to fight for every scrap that crossed my plate, for every penny that kept me off the streets. I’d passed up the chance at power unimagined, the means to make all my sordid dreams come true.

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  “Accept my offer and I will grant your friends at DRAC clemency. I will spare their lives and give them a place of honor in the new order. I will even spare your angelic cousin, if that is what you desire.”

  I couldn’t help but think about it. I could save my friends and family and make something of myself. It appealed to me, I can’t lie. The part of me related to Lucifer called for me to say yes, but all I could see was my mother’s face.

  I shook my head. “I can’t.” I’d always been too human.

  He sighed, his shoulders sagging, and reached out to me. “I will not extend my hand again, Triggaltheron. Take it now or be swept away by the tides of Armageddon.”

  “I guess I better get my surfboard out of hock.”

  He pulled his hand back, clenching it into a tight fist. “You will regret this.”

  “It’s kinda hard to regret something when I’m dead.” A shiver ran down my spine as I spoke. Being a realist can be a serious downer sometimes. Asmoday took a step back. “Then our business is concluded.” He met my eyes again. I could see disappointment in his. There was a terrible certainty as well. “Farewell, Triggaltheron. We will not meet again.”

  Ah crap. I wasn’t so dense I didn’t recognize a threat when I heard one.

  Asmoday’s form wavered and turned indistinct, Page 106

  swallowed by a swelling mist of blackness. In a great plume of whirling obsidian, he drifted up and through the roof of the warehouse leaving behind an inky black cloud. At the same time Asmoday rose up, four shafts of brilliant white light descended. I squinted and put my hand up to shade my eyes as the shafts coalesced and took form. When the light faded, four angels stood before me. None of them looked thrilled to see me. Dressed in flowing white robes and barehanded, the angels began to fan out and circle around me. I could tell by the look in their gold eyes, they weren’t here to convert me. They were planning to go Old Testament on my ass.

  A lot like demons, angels trended toward simplicity in violence. They didn’t rely on a bunch of modern weaponry, in fact, they rarely used anything more than a sword, preferring to crush their opponents with their bare hands. They restricted their magic use to augmenting their strikes or to deflect blows, and occasionally they might toss out an energy blast if it seemed reasonable, but they liked their combat up close and personal.

  The opposite of humans, who’d refined handto-hand down to an art, supernatural fighters were all about sheer, unbridled brutality. They loved to brawl. Ugly, cold, and efficient, there was no science to it. By the look in the eyes of these guys, they fit nicely into the stereotype.

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  Though I had a damn good idea how this was gonna go down, I didn’t wait around to see it pl
ayed out. I started strafing. Sweeping to the left to avoid them getting behind me, I started firing, drawing my second pistol as I moved. I guessed they didn’t know what kind of ammo I was packing because they charged recklessly forward into the hail of gunfire. Didn’t take but an instant for them to realize that was a mistake. The closest angel, who stepped to the front of the line, took three in the chest at close range. Each bullet hit with a solid, bone-shattering thud. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide as spurts of shimmering yellow-gold blood sprung from the wounds. I held my fire, waiting to see what effect my guns had before I committed any more bullets. Never having the opportunity to shoot an angel before, I wanted some assurance it’d be effective before I blew my wad. As such, I didn’t leave my fate in the hands of DRAC’s demon-forged bullets. I kept backing toward the exit, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the scene unfolding before me.

  The wounded angel put his hands to his chest and looked down, muttering something incoherent. He collapsed an instant later. The other three went to his aid, covering him in comforting hands. It wouldn’t be enough. One second they were fluttering above him whispering words of encouragement, the next they froze, their faces going slack. Each raised his tear- Page 108 stained face to Heaven and let loose a wailing dirge that rattled the dust from the rafters. That was my cue to get the hell out of Dodge.

  I popped off a few more shots as they lowered their faces to glare at me, murder in their eyes. While I did, a ripple of energy tickled across my skin. As I’d just recently experienced it, I recognized the feeling instantly. It was the soul transfer. I’d forgotten it worked with angels as well.

  “Damn it,” I complained just as the flush of orgasmic energy rippled through me, halting my retreat. My eyes fluttered closed.

  An instant later, in the throes of what amounted to the equal of the best sex I’d ever had, one of the angels slammed into me. I almost didn’t feel it. I did feel the wall though, as we smashed through it. Surprisingly, it didn’t really hurt much.

  Carried by the tackling angel’s momentum, we flew about a hundred feet out across the parking lot. We came down hard, the angel maneuvering me through my daze to take the brunt of the landing. We hit the asphalt with a fleshy slap, tumbling into a roll. After about fifteen feet and a serious case of road rash, we came to a stop. Turned out, I ended up on top. Even better, thanks to the ongoing transfer, my wounds had barely opened before they were stitching themselves shut. Man, I loved this stuff. I decided to go for seconds. With a smile so wide it hurt my jaw, I put my Page 109

  gun to the forehead of the angel beneath me.

  “Repeat after me. If I should die before I wake, I pray for Trigg my soul to take.”

  You’d think I’d have learned from all the movie villains who get beat while monologuing. Guess not. Before I could pull the trigger, I caught a kick to the face. Apparently the transfer had run its course because I felt every bit of that one.

  I heard my nose snap and felt a warm gush explode from it. Lightning bolts of pain shot through my eyes and I flew backwards and landed in a heap. My head felt like used Jell-o.

  You figure it out.

  I knew I couldn’t just sit there so I jumped to my feet, raised my guns and started blasting away at random, spinning in a tight circle. My eyes were so blurry everything was a wet blob so I aimed and shot at the darker blotches as I got to my feet. Meanwhile, I blinked hard and shook my head, hoping to clear my eyes without having to pull one of my guns from service. I managed to sluice a bit of the moisture away just as a shadow engulfed me. I growled at my stupidity. I had forgotten angels could fly.

  I never had a chance. From above me there was a rush of wind just as two vice-like hands seized my shoulders. I felt myself spun about and pressed face first to the ground, a steely weight pinning me down. I was about to start bucking when I realized the maneuver Page 110

  hadn’t been aggressive. On top of that, I felt a woman’s boobs pressed into my back.

  At least I hoped they were a woman’s. It could have been a really fat guy, but I preferred not to think of that possibility.

  Right then, I felt the air pressure change. My lungs burned as the breath was ripped from them. My gasp was drowned out by the sonic boom that ripped open the sky as if a thousand thunder storms had been unleashed at once. I heard the sound of wrenching steel buried beneath the cacophony of destruction and smelled the tangy scent of burning wood and metal on the heated air. A heartbeat later, I felt the temperature drop about thirty degrees and the ground danced beneath me. I held on for dear life. Through it all, the boobs were an ever present comfort.

  It ended a moment later. Everything had gone quiet. It was as if the world had been put on mute. I felt the restraining grip relax as my captor rolled off me. I opened my eyes and turned to see who’d held me. I met Scarlett’s green eyes. Her face was pensive and she seemed none too pleased.

  “Was it good for you?” I asked.

  She shoved me away and stood up, making an ugly face. The moment ruined, I sat up and looked to the warehouse.

  It was gone.

  All that was left was smoldering ruin. Like a Page 111

  miniature Nagasaki, the place had been nuked into non-existence. Twisted metal and pieces of smoking concrete lay scattered about the perimeter. The asphalt surrounding the warehouse was slagged into a black soup that glistened with tiny sputtering firelights. The destruction was impressive. I glanced behind me to see who’d pulled the trigger.

  Rahim Alakha stood rigid with his hands extended toward the warehouse, wisps of white smoke emanating from his dark fingers. The whirling glow of his eyes faded as I watched, then disappeared. He drew in a deep breath and relaxed, his arms dropping to his side. He walked over to us, shaking his arms out as I climbed to my feet and stood beside Scarlett. Katon joined us a moment later as I put my guns away.

  “Way to go, Oppenheimer.” My voice sounded wet and thick, thanks to the blood draining down my throat. “So much for low profile.”

  Rahim shook his head. “I think the appropriate response would be to say thanks.”

  “I was doing all right.”

  He looked at my face and smirked. “I can tell.”

  Scarlett drew my attention. Her eyes were wet.

  “An angel died here. What happened?”

  “You saw them when you got here.” I tried to look sympathetic, but I’m sure you can figure out how well that worked. “I showed up and Asmoday was waiting with a sales pitch. I told him to take a hike and Page 112

  the next thing I know four of your brothers pop in and start coming after me. I did what I had to.” The death had hit her hard, but she didn’t say anything about it. I think she was starting to understand it was a sign of things to come in our new age. It didn’t help to dwell on it.

  Katon went to examine the wreckage as Rahim turned to me. “Asmoday has angelic assistance.” It was more of a statement than a question. I think he was disappointed more than surprised.“It looks that way. It’s too much of a coincidence for it to be otherwise. He threatened me and bailed just as the winged goon squad arrived.”

  Katon shouted from the remains of the warehouse. “There’s a body.”

  “Only one?” I asked back. I’d figured the other three fled when Rahim blasted the warehouse based off of Scarlett’s comments, but it didn’t hurt to be sure. I was hoping Rahim had gotten the rest. I didn’t want to run into them again.

  Katon nodded as Scarlett raced to the downed angel’s side. Rahim went after her. I took a deep breath and followed behind. As we reached the dead angel, Katon turned to me.

  “Three in the chest.” He nodded in silent approval. “Guess our forgers need a pay raise too.”

  Scarlett growled at him and knelt down beside the body. She cradled the fallen angel’s head in her lap, Page 113

  her tears flowing freely. Katon took a step back to give her room, realizing he’d upset her. After a moment, she looked up at me, anger flashing in her eyes.


  “This is Israfil.” As if telling me who he was changed anything.

  I recognized the name, though. He was the angel destined to sound the horn that ushered in Armageddon.

  “That blows.” I couldn’t help myself. Furious, she bared her teeth, the green of her eyes whirling.

  I raised my hands to ward her off. “They came after me, Scarlett. It’s not like I wanted this.” The lie tasted bitter. Yeah, I admit I lost a little control after the first soul transfer, but it wasn’t like I sought them out to kill them. They attacked me. “Besides, they’re working for Asmoday. I’m sorry if I hurt someone you know, but if he’s pro-Armageddon, he’s an enemy, plain and simple. That applies to all of them. That’s just the way it is.” I tried my best to look apologetic. I never realized how hard it could be.

  She sighed deeply, her expression softening as she put it all into perspective. Her anger at the angel’s death made way for sadness. She gave a shallow nod. Rahim, who’d stayed out of our philosophical debate, stood surveying the scene when he suddenly went rigid. He looked up with seeking eyes. Scarlett turned to the sky as well, her face slack with surprise. Page 114

  “Move away from the body,” Rahim shouted, his voice filled with reedy tension.

  I was gone in a flash. Anything that could spook Rahim was something I didn’t want to play with. Even Scarlett abandoned Israfil’s body and retreated with us. I watched the dark sky to see if I could determine what was coming our way. I didn’t have long to wait. Brilliant sparkles of light illuminated the night, washing the stars away. I shielded my eyes from the brunt of the glare and kept watching as thousands of glowing beams struck the ground at once, then dissipated. A nebulous cloud of swirling energy floated toward us, the air crackling. A chill settled around us as I heard what sounded like singing. It was amorphous, yet beautiful. I realized who it was. Gabriel.