From Heaven To Earth (The Faith of the Fallen)

by Wall, Sherrod

  “It’s processed human flesh,” the ghost stated. “Which parts I’m not too sure, but I know that much.”

  Drean jumped up with a look of disdain on his face.

  “Now, angel, settle down!”

  Drean glared at him. His eyes burned with a soft white light.

  “Those demons...”

  “Are your hosts, Drean! Don’t provoke their wrath.”

  Drean’s eyes darkened. He sat in a corner and gripped his knees with his arms. He could feel the beat of the wing through the wall. “And that infernal beating,” he said. “It’s a byproduct of whatever sadistic rituals they perform in that room.”

  “They have to survive, just like you and me,” the ghost said.

  “But to take an innocent life!”

  “Humans that trespass on these grounds are fair game,” the ghost said. “You must realize that.”

  Drean remembered the corpses outside the house.

  “I’m sure they didn’t even know they were trespassing. They could have been tourists.” Drean rocked back and forth in time to the hall’s beat.

  “Are you alright?” the ghost asked. He craned his head to look at Drean.

  “They were innocent, killed in cold blood.” Drean rocked. The beating outside quickened. “Killed only because they were human.”

  “You’re being unfair, angel,” the ghost said.

  “You would defend them. Killer, murderer.”

  “I’ve gotten over that side of myself,” the ghost said. “Fate drove me to kill those people and it brought me here. I was meant to leave a bloody path on the world and power this AC. That was my purpose. At least I’m not in Hell.”

  “You chose that route,” Drean said.

  “There was no other route for me to choose,” the ghost decided. “Just like the one you’re about to choose.”

  The beating stopped. Drean still rocked. The door to the hall opened. Marylza stepped inside and faced Drean. When the ghost saw the succubus he gave her a nervous smile.

  “Top of the morning to you, mistress.”

  “Don’t worry, wretch, I’m not here to chastise you,” she said, she could not keep from smiling as she looked upon Drean. She wanted him more than any man, woman, demon, fallen or half-breed she had met in her life.

  “My path. My path,” Drean said this mantra over and over.

  Marylza glided into the room. Her long, nearly transparent black robe slid across the ground as she walked. She knelt down before Drean and let the low neck of her dress move deliberately by his face for a full view of her cleavage before she was face to face with him.

  Hmph. He’s so worked up he didn’t even flinch. He must still be asexual, she thought.

  “Angel,” she breathed.

  “My path.” Drean looked at her, unconcerned.

  “Stubborn angel, rest. You will be mine when you wake.” She touched Drean’s forehead. The contact left a red mark on her fingertip that stung.

  His eyelids fluttered and closed, and he fell forward into Marylza’s waiting arms.

  * * *

  Riell was exhausted.

  Azule had taught her to use her Inner meticulously to avoid overusing energy for applications that only required minute amounts for proper performance. He revealed the presence of residual Inner left in crafted objects: for the very act of creation leaves trace elements of Inner. He showed her how to tap into those elements and bolster them with her own Inner.

  After that he showed her an exercise to become a potent psychic. Riell would release controlled telekinetic blasts, lighter ones at first and ending with heavier. He told her to repeat her workout once a week. She subjected herself to the meticulous psychic prodding of Azule, who found her mental blind spots for her: weak areas that could be subdued by a psychic assault.

  Riell sat in meditation to cleanse her mind and body. Her prismatic wings cloaked her body. Riell’s black hair billowed around her as Inner coursed through her body, revitalizing her. Her eyes flinched.

  I thought I felt Drean panic for a second, but how is that even possible when I wasn’t even concentrating on him? Dread outweighed her calm, and soon she could not hold it back any longer. She attempted to find Drean and connect with his mind.

  Drean! Are you all right!

  There was no reply, no return connection.

  He’s unconscious... Riell opened her eyes and stood up. Azule was in front of her.

  “I have to go, sir, I apologize,” she said, and gave him a low bow. She looked into his face, saw strain there and knew something was not right. Riell placed a barrier over her thoughts, so he would not be able to read them.

  “I’m afraid not, Riell.” Azuleophis’ voice was distressed.

  She looked past him at the door and saw the students had gathered in front of it. Riell used her Inner to create a psychic cushion around herself to absorb incoming projections and ran headlong into them.

  “Don’t let her out!” Azule called out to them.

  Riell waited until the students were crowded around her and burst the psychic cushion. Students closest to her sailed into the air and fell all around the room, stunned. She kicked at the door, but it barely opened.

  Some of the remaining students charged at her while others pelted her with psychic bolts to slow her. Riell lifted a hand at a student and used her Inner to pull him in front of her. Incoming bolts slammed into the student. He lost consciousness before the barrage ceased. She launched the student into three more near her and gave the door a strong kick. It moved a bit more.

  She ran at the doorway, jumped off a corner of it and spun in the exits direction. Something gripped her and stopped her in mid-air. She knew the vice-like will that impeded her belonged to Azuleophis.

  You can’t leave, she felt Azuleophis’ voice bore into her mind and break through her barriers with ease.

  I have to, she thought back at him.

  The teacher tugged at her body with his mind. She used her Inner to combat him and propel her body forward. A bright blue glow encased her and exploded as the effort exhausted her. She flew back into the room and into Azule’s arms. He held her fast.

  “I’m sorry, Riell, but I cannot let you go to him,” he said in her ear.

  Riell threw a back fist where she heard his voice and was surprised when the blow connected. He groaned, and his grip loosened. She swept her arms out as she dropped into a horse stance and freed herself. An elbow to the stomach and another back fist made him stagger backwards, and her back kick sent him reeling away. She halted him with her will and brought him sailing into her sidekick. He doubled over and lay on the floor coughing.

  Riell dashed for the door. Azule turned her around with his Inner, and she ran headlong into him. Riell could not believe he had recovered so quickly.

  I am outmatched after all.

  He winked at her when their faces met and pushed both his hands out.

  Azule’s telekinesis sent her flailing through the air, through the doorway, down the hall and out the exit door. She hit Grizaltus’ statue and fell face first on the stone walkway of the courtyard below it. Riell tried to stand in her daze but slumped over.

  Voices cried out from the hall and rapid footfalls neared her position.

  “I feel her out here!” one said.

  “Teacher how did you manage to throw her all the way down the hall?” a female student asked.

  “She hit me. I was angry,” Azule said.

  “You never get angry, teacher.”

  “Well, I’ve never been struck by such a fierce blow,” he replied.

  Riell scrambled on the other side of the statue. She masked her presence with her Inner, cloaked, cleared her mind and tried not to make a sound.

  “She just vanished,” another student said. Footsteps stopped on the other side of the statue.

  “Well, she’s gone now.” The teacher patted a part of the statue near Riell’s head and turned to leave.

  “You don’t think she’s using her Inner t
o keep herself hidden?” a student called from the door.

  “No, she’s not that skilled,” Azule said, as he walked back to the door.

  Riell frowned.

  Good luck. You’re more talented than you realize, he thought at her.

  Thank you, I appreciate everything you’ve done, she thought and smiled.

  The voices of the students faded back into the hall and Riell flew hastily for the west wing.

  Chapter 43

  “Bring in the offender,” Ran’nok said.

  The demon sat upon a jagged throne of volcanic rock on a raised section of his classroom. Marylza stood next to Ran’nok with her arms and wings folded. Annoyance contorted her face. She wanted to proceed with the ritual and was positive Asmodeus would be content with Drean’s sacrifice without any formal ceremony as long as it succeeded.

  Ran’nok wholeheartedly disagreed.

  Several iron cages were stacked on top of one another on the other side of the room.

  Its bottom consisted of six cages, and the whole structure was five tiers tall. Each of them had humans of different ages, sexes and races in them. All of them were naked and malnourished. The humans kept their eyes averted for they knew angering Ran’nok would only lead to a slow death.

  Racks with different tools and devices for sacrificial rites were against the wall, consisting of: an array of knives, tongs and fold-able metal crosses which could be adjusted to fit humans of any height.

  Double doors that lead out into the hall opened. Six white robed demons of different colors carried one of those metal crosses with an unconscious Drean strapped to it.

  “Bring him forth,” Ran’nok said.

  The cross was taken to the foot of the raised section of the room and bolted to the floor.

  “We will now begin this rite,” Ran’nok said. “I will lead us in the invocation. I believe the appropriate one is, ‘The Corruption of Annarae.’ I think our master will delight at the parallelism. Do you know the melody, Marylza? My opinion is that the beginning and the end of the ritual are most important.”

  “Yes. I agree. And yes. I know the melody.”

  Ran’nok began the first verse in a wavering guttural tone and the demons joined in a dissonant chorus. Marylza held her ears. Demonic had always sounded horrendous in song to her, and though she knew it was partially intended, it made no difference. By the time they were finished some of the human’s ears would be bleeding from the volume of the song.

  Their voices rose and lowered in sharp waves. The crescendo was coming and Marylza did not want to hear it.

  “Ran’nok! Stop singing! Stop!” Marylza yelled over and over until he stopped singing.

  He growled.

  “What?!”

  Marylza faded from the throne, reappeared at his side and gazed at the body of Drean.

  “You may wake him if you continue. Just let me complete this rite myself. Asmodeus commanded me to do it personally. You know that. I do not need your help.”

  “This is my specialty not yours.”

  “Our dagger will not penetrate his skin. Not when he’s guarded. You should have recognized that to begin with. And no amount of singing and meditation will soften his barriers. Let me do what I need to do before he wakes.”

  Ran’nok unsheathed his dagger. Its foot long, gleaming white blade was forged from the tooth of a bal’duz: a rare component with an even rarer capability to penetrate angel flesh. Its hollow middle would fill with the highly prized blood of its victim.

  “This dagger was designed for such a sacrifice. It should be more than sufficient,” he said, and ran his claw down the blade of the dagger to make sure it had been sharpened. He smiled when it sliced through his flesh.

  “There is something unshakable about this angel, something impenetrable,” she said. “I will go into his mind and find his weakness,” she suggested. “Then we do not risk a failed sacrifice.”

  Marylza motioned for Ran’nok to back away from Drean’s body. When he did the succubus stood above Drean’s head. She leaned over Drean to place her lips on his.

  “She just wants to get some from him.” A young demon snickered behind her.

  She hissed and raised her head to look at the demon that spoke out.

  “Get these voyeurs out of here.”

  “They are my students and need to learn from this experience,” Ran’nok growled back.

  “I won’t have my concentration broken by their childish banter,” she said through her teeth. “If you won’t tell them to leave then you can continue this rite without my help. And have them take him off of that cross. I want him on the altar.”

  “You women and your infernal dilemmas.” Ran’nok thought for a moment, his talons rhythmically clacked against the ground. “Get him down from there and place him on the altar. Class is dismissed!” he bellowed.

  Some of the demons groaned in protest as they took Drean down and left the room.

  “The next voice I hear will have clean up duty for the next century,” Ran’nok called after them.

  His students filed out silently. The double-doors slammed behind the last one.

  Marylza licked her lips in anticipation and bent down to kiss Drean.

  “Don’t you think you should be...” Before Ran’nok could finish, the succubus’ lips touched the angel’s. A sharp snap echoed throughout the room as her lips combusted, and she howled. “More cautious?” the demon finished with a satisfied grin.

  Marylza’s lips charred and blistered before she could put the fire out.

  “I had to do that to get a taste of his spirit. It’s the only way for me to gain entry into his mind.”

  “Couldn’t you have done it psychically?”

  “We each have our ways.”

  Her tone was deeper than Ran’nok had expected it to be. He involuntarily stepped back.

  “How long is this going to take?” Marylza continued to stare at him. That was answer enough for Ran’nok. “I’ll just sit this one out.”

  She nodded at him. Her lips itched and tingled as they healed.

  Yes, your power is far from absolute, angel. She smirked.

  “I will have you yet,” she muttered.

  She sat cross-legged in front of the altar, stretched out each of her wings, folded them and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and delved into Drean.

  * * *

  “Drean.” Riell’s soft voice stirred Drean from his slumber.

  For a moment he had no idea where he was. He felt softness against his skin only equaled by his bed in Heaven. Drean realized he was on the corpse mattress in his room.

  He immediately jumped up and dusted himself off. Riell jumped away from him in defense, and Drean just assumed he had scared her.

  “Riell, how... how did I get here?” He looked at her with groggy eyes. Sleep’s remnants retreated when he noticed red, green and black blood stained her face and armor.

  “There’s no time for you to be incoherent. We have to get out of here!” She shook him violently.

  “I’m awake! Don’t shake me like that,” he said. Drean noticed Riell was putting pressure on a wound on her arm. Bright red blood seeped from between her fingertips. “Are you ok? Let me look at that wound.” Drean moved close to her to try to heal her.

  “No time!” She moved outside of his reach and threw open the door. “We need to get out of here. Now!” She walked out into the hall, looked in both directions and made sure Drean was behind her before running for the exit.

  Drean followed her closely.

  “Shit.” She slid to a halt and Drean ran into her.

  “Be careful, boy.” Riell drew her sword and held it in front of her. “More are coming.”

  “Why are you being so terse with me?”

  “There are too many,” she said. “I’m in no position to fight. We’ll need to hide.” She glanced at Drean and held his gaze. “What are you staring at,” she snapped.

  “Why are you being so terse with me?” he asked
again.

  Riell gave Drean no answer, but glanced past him down the hall. “The sacrificial chamber... we can hide there.” She grabbed Drean and ran down the hall to the double doors of the chamber.

  Riell lifted up her free hand and outstretched her palm. The doors flew open and closed behind them as they came through. Drean’s mouth gaped when he saw the stacked cages filled with naked humans.

  “We should be safe for now,” Riell said.

  “We have to free them!”

  “We need to worry about ourselves right now.” She lifted several of the metal crosses near the cages with Inner and used them to barricade the door.

  “How’s your arm?” Drean asked, and moved closer to see if he could heal it before she could get out of his reach.

  “It’s already stopped bleeding.” She caught sight of him and moved away. “Don’t concern yourself with it.”

  Roars and growling grew closer. The door shuddered as the demons tried to break in.

  “They’re going to get through. We’re finished.”

  “I can take them.”

  “No, you can’t. They have weapons that will penetrate your skin and superior numbers. Eventually they’ll wear us down.”

  “Then I can teleport us out. But Gerald...” Drean said.

  “You can? Where could we go?”

  “Your room. That image is fresh in my mind.”

  “Great.”

  Drean opened a light door as the demons broke through, and they teleported to Riell’s bedroom.

  Drean was light headed when he stepped into Riell’s room. He slumped over, and her arms held him up. At her touch his skin tingled, and want for her stirred in him.

  She saw this in his eyes, smiled, stripped and placed his hands upon her nakedness. She caressed his body with one hand and removed her armored leggings with another. He tried to kiss her, but she stopped him with a hand over his lips and tossed him onto the bed.

  She pulled his clothes off and tried to hold him down, but he flipped her on her back, pulled her by her ankles to the end of the bed and spread her legs apart, stretching them over her head. He stood there and let his eyes enjoy the moment before thrusting himself upon her.