The Demon

by Rick Bonogofsky

  The look in Staci’s eyes told Erin everything she needed to know. She would continue the lie to its end and see if that worked.

  “He was likely trying to speak with you one last time before the poison took hold,” Erin spat.

  In shock, Victor lowered his sword, wondering what game Erin was playing. He kept quiet, however, thinking the mad woman had an alternate plan.

  “I poisoned his food, Staci,” Erin continued. “It was a slow-acting poison, so he should be dead right about now. Of course, since he’s a demon, I wasn’t entirely certain how much of the stuff I had to use, or if it would even work at all.”

  “No,” Staci whispered, denying the words. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks. Why was this happening?

  Erin gripped the ring in her hand and looked hard at it, concentrating. She could feel Dante’s presence in the ring. He was still trying to contact Staci. Erin closed her fingers over the ring and smiled savagely. “The last of his energy has run out. His magic no longer powers this ring.” As she said those words, she watched Staci slump to her knees and weep. She had put enough venom and force into her words to sound convincing enough. Staci sobbed and shook, too distraught over the words to consider the truth in them. Without Dante, she was lost.

  While Staci was on the floor, Erin saw her chance. She knew that the only way to make absolutely certain that this woman would never come back to find Dante was to kill her where she lay. She glanced at Victor, who seemed to be so overcome by Staci’s pain that he did not notice Erin raising her sword to strike.

  Dante was talking with Gerard when he felt the gentle, pulsing heartbeat of his ring slow down almost imperceptibly, then speed up to rapidly thump on his finger. He stopped mid-sentence, stood, and looked at the ring, worry creasing his forehead.

  “What’s wrong?” Gerard asked.

  Dante wasn’t sure. It didn’t seem like the other times Staci’s heart rate sped up from exercising or from getting excited about something. It almost felt fearful.

  “Dante?”

  Dante focused on the ring and its connection with Staci. She was there, but she was not letting him in. What was going on? He silently called to her, trying to get her attention, but there was still nothing. Why wouldn’t she answer? He spoke her name aloud, hoping it would help. Still nothing.

  “Dante?” Gerard asked, gripping Dante’s wrist. The old man was getting worried for his friend. “Is something wrong with Staci?”

  “I don’t know…” Dante whispered. Terror gripped him as surely as it must have been holding his beloved. “I’m trying to contact her, but she isn’t responding. Staci? Answer me!”

  The pulsing in the ring came to a crescendo, then slowed as Staci must have calmed somewhat. Anger, denial and sadness emanated from the ring, however, and Dante felt that there was indeed something incredibly wrong. Then, for just a split second, the ring became cold, as if the connection was briefly lost. Dante could still feel a connection, though.

  “Staci! Let me in! Tell me what’s wrong!” The pulsing grew rapid, more forceful. It grew hot on Dante’s finger. Anger, heartbreak, fear, all mixed together in a confusing jumble. Something was going on wherever Staci was and Dante was powerless to do anything about it.

  Warmer and warmer the ring grew, until very suddenly, its burning heat was snuffed out. The ring became cold, cold as the hands of Death.

  Dante fell to his knees. She was dead. He knew it. The only way his ring would become so cold was if Staci had died. And he knew that she could not have been alone. Something had happened to her. Someone was with her, and that someone had undeniably murdered her. Dante screamed in agonized pain, felt his heart rip apart, and knew that his life was over.

  “Dante?” Guen asked timidly in the doorway. She had heard the demon scream and came running to see what the matter was. She had feared that her father had finally died. But Gerard lay in his bed, staring at Dante with tears in his wrinkled eyes.

  “What happened?” Guen asked, worry in her voice. She rushed to Dante and held him in her arms, trying to calm him.

  Gerard shook his head, tears falling from his eyes. “I don’t know. We were talking and then he started calling to Staci. I think… I think something’s happened to her!”

  Dante shook the woman off of him and rose to his feet. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. Tears rimmed his red, puffy eyes. Black, smoky tendrils of darkness rose off his body.

  “She’s dead,” he said through gritted teeth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  A violent explosion shook the city’s foundations. Black smoke rose from a deep crater where a small house once stood. Flames licked the air as the dust settled and the debris came back to the earth. Stone and wood littered the area, blasted several yards from the location of the explosion. Amid the settling dust stood a lone figure, his shoulders rising and falling with the breaths of seething rage. The man let out an anguished cry and fell to his knees, his face in his hands. Burning wood and stone shrouded the two charred corpses within the crater.

  Slowly, onlookers began to shuffle in, wondering what had happened. They wanted a look at whatever had caused the explosion. The humans coughed from the choking smoke and the smell of burning flesh.

  “That was old man Sykes’ house,” one frightened woman whispered to her friend.

  The onlookers shook their heads in disbelief and gasped as a whole when Dante rose to his feet, fists clenched and smoke rising from his body. His eyes were red and glowing with anger, and the crowd parted to let him through. No one wanted anything to do with this obviously powerful and angry man.

  Dante barely noticed. He made his way through the crowd and made for the outskirts of the city. Some of the city guard tried to stop him for questioning, but an upraised hand from Dante magically silenced them. One foolish guard even tried to physically stop the demon by grabbing his arm. Dante stopped and leveled his red-eyed gaze upon the hapless human. Without so much as a gesture, Dante willed the man’s face to begin melting. The flesh bubbled and dripped, and the man’s screams echoed through the streets. His agonized screams were cut short in a pained gurgle and his melting skin literally drowned him. The corpse fell to the pavement in a wet plop and Dante continued on his way. The humans had no idea what to do. None of them had ever encountered a demon nor did they even believe demons existed. They simply stared in horror at the carnage they had witnessed and gave up any attempts at stopping Dante.

  Hours passed and Dante was outside of Manhattan and on his way to Bethlehem. He cursed himself for not learning how to harness some of the powers Death had granted him to allow him to fly. His rage had abated somewhat, leaving fear and despair to play their cruel games in his mind. He clenched his ring in his hand, hoping beyond reason that what he felt in Gerard’s home was false. But he knew what he felt. Staci was murdered and the ring had conveyed the death-like cold as confirmation. It was cold as ice in his hand still. Dante’s every thought was on the ring, therefore he did not notice the nagging feeling at the back of his mind calling for his attention. Nothing could distract him from finding Staci’s killer.

  Victor stood over the woman’s corpse, wondering what to do. He stood frozen and panicked, unable to do anything. Then, he felt a presence calling to him from Heaven. He let the call wash over him and willed himself to leave Earth behind. An instant later, he was standing before the throne of Heaven. Amun-Ra was absent, likely dealing with something important elsewhere. Instead, Artemis and Death stood before the angel, both of them waiting for him.

  “Do you know why we called you here?” the archangel asked.

  Panicked thoughts raced through Victor’s mind, none settling on a particular reason. “No,” was all he could manage.

  “You’re here to help us with something,” Death intoned.

  Victor looked from Death to Artemis, confused.

  “Something terrible has happened,” Artemis explained.

  Victor nodded. “Yes, I was there.
I-”

  “No you weren’t,” Artemis interrupted. “The petty squabble between your human women was not what I meant. Dante has fulfilled his part of the prophecy.”

  Victor’s confusion took over again, but only for a moment. Dread filled his features and he looked to Death for confirmation.

  Death nodded. “His full power has been unlocked. We are not certain as to how, but he is now ready for his destiny.”

  Victor searched his thoughts and shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Perhaps the two events are connected.”

  “What two events?” Artemis asked in annoyance.

  “The death of the human woman and his gain in power,” Victor explained. “He must have truly loved her to be so effected. But how could he know of what happened? He was in Manhattan when it happened.”

  “It does not matter,” Artemis stated. “He is now ready to claim his birthright. Go and find him, Victor. Get him to accompany you here so we may explain his new life to him.”

  “Me?” Victor stammered. If this was all true, Dante would be far more powerful than he was when they had last met. That, coupled with the reason why his latent power was unlocked in the first place, made the angel feel very fearful about meeting a former enemy. He was not certain how Dante would have reacted to meeting him on the best of days, let alone today.

  “Should conflict arise, I will step in,” Artemis promised. “Be diplomatic and I won’t find a reason to let the demon kill you.”

  The threat was plain enough for Victor to know the archangel was serious. He nodded and disappeared, headed back to Earth to gather his things. He wanted to be fully prepared to face the demon should the worst come to pass.

  Artemis turned to Death and asked, “Anything yet?”

  Death shook his skull, the black cloth hood pulling back slightly. “Nothing. He is able to ignore my summons now. We must rely on Victor for now.”

  Artemis’ face contorted in anger, wrinkling the cloth over his destroyed eyes. “Of course we do,” he spat.

  Victor reappeared in Staci’s home, but left before he was noticed. He ran back to his quarters in the church and stood in front of his scrying basin. The water was calm and still until he enacted the spell on it. A blurry image appeared, but the water bubbled in protest. Victor concentrated harder and brought the image into focus. Dante walked along a road, head hung low and shoulders slumped. Despite the black aura of power radiating from his body, the demon looked frail and defeated. Victor pitied the man, though that pity did nothing to diminish the angel’s wariness of the demon. He took off his ring, allowing his full angelic splendor to wash over him. His gleaming silver and gold armor shone with its own brilliance and his pearlescent wings unfurled. Victor felt his own power grow, freed by the removal of his ring. Even so, he knew he was no match for Dante if it came to blows. He climbed on top of the basin’s table and stepped into the water, teleporting himself to the area in the image. He dropped out of the air to land in front of the demon.

  Dante reacted immediately, drawing his sword and readying himself for combat. A moment later, after the winged figure had regained his composure, Dante realized who stood in front of him. His muscles tensed further.

  Victor faced Dante non-threateningly and held his hands up. “I am not here to fight you, Dante.”

  Dante’s eyes narrowed and he lowered his sword slightly. He could swear he heard fear mixed with the truth in the angel’s words. “That last message you sent me said otherwise. What’s changed?”

  “My perception of you changed,” Victor stated simply. “After finding out why you did what you did millennia ago, I realized I was wrong and you were simply following orders. But that is not why I am here today.”

  “I’m in no mood, angel,” Dante warned. A faint pulse from his ring caught Dante’s attention. It seemed to be pulling his thoughts toward Victor’s sheathed sword. He decided to worry about it later. “What do you want, then?”

  Victor sighed in relief when Dante sheathed his sword and said, “I came to bring you to Heaven. You have been summoned.”

  Confusion creased Dante’s forehead. “Why?”

  “It is not for me to explain.”

  Dante shook his head and resumed walking. “No. I have somewhere more important to be. I have someone to kill.”

  “I can promise you, there is nothing more important than this, Dante,” Victor pleaded.

  “Maybe to you, little angel,” Dante spat. “Not to me.”

  Victor thought back to the carnage he had just left. “This is about the woman, isn’t it?” He did not want to reveal too much of his own involvement in case Dante turned his blade on him.

  Dante stopped walking. He turned and leveled and angry, accusatory glare Victor’s way. “What do you know?” He concentrated to his ring and realized that it was drawn to Victor’s sword for a reason. “Draw your weapon.”

  Becoming increasingly worried, Victor slowly and non-threateningly drew his sword. Its silver sheen glistened in the sunlight, but there was a faint red stain on the blade.

  Dante’s eyes filled with rage. “YOU!!!” he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Victor. “You killed her!”

  Victor shook his head and put his sword away, once again holding his hands up in defense. “No, you don’t know what happened! I was forced to do what I had to do.”

  “Her blood is on your blade!” Dante yelled. He drew his sword again and stepped toward the cowering angel. Before he could close the gap, however, another winged figure landed between the two. Artemis stood with his shadowy sword drawn and leveled Dante’s way.

  “You are coming with us, Dante,” he commanded. “Whether you like it or not, you are coming to Heaven with us.”

  Dante opened his mouth to protest, but found himself standing in front of a giant golden throne before any sound came out. The throne was empty, but it was flanked by Artemis and Death. “What is this?” Dante demanded.

  Artemis walked forward and Dante could feel the weight of the situation. The archangel reached into a pouch on his belt and produced a twisted, barbed gem hanging on a rusted iron chain. “Do you know what this is?” he asked.

  Dante shook his head, uncertain of why he was in Heaven and why Artemis was presenting such an obviously ancient and important trinket to him.

  “This is the amulet that gives the right to the throne of Hell,” Artemis explained. “I have been keeping it safe until a new king of Hell was ready to take the throne.”

  “And that’s me, then?” Dante scoffed. “Just stop. I don’t care about having a kingdom, nor do I care what happens to said kingdom. I have somewhere else I have to be, and I have someone very specific to murder.” He turned away to find a way back to Earth, but was stopped by Death.

  “You are the heir to the throne of Hell, Dante,” Death stated. “As was your father, and his father before him.”

  “And why should I care about that?”

  “It will give you purpose,” Death said. “Shrug off the shackles of Earth and take your place among your own people. You are a king.”

  Dante shook his head. “I may be a demon, but I have never been to Hell. What makes me king of somewhere I’ve never been?”

  “Your blood does,” Artemis replied. “In your veins runs the blood of the first king of Hell. You are a direct descendant of Osiris himself and you hold the power to rule every demon.”

  “I. Don’t. Want. It.” Dante stated slowly. “I want to go back to Earth and finish my business.”

  Artemis’ calm demeanor disappeared. “You are a fool! What do you think will happen if you do not take the throne? Another demon will and another war will break out! Do you want a repeat of that Great War that nearly destroyed the world? Do you want a repeat of the war that took your parents from you?!”

  Dante balled up his fist and punched Artemis in the jaw. The archangel’s head snapped backward and the sound of bone cracking echoed through the throne room. Artemis brought his angry glare back to Dante and realigne
d his shattered jaw. It healed swiftly and he resumed his heavy scowl.

  “My parents are dead because of you,” Dante pointed. “The war was your fault and so were their deaths. You remember that, or it’ll be more than just your jaw that I break.” Dante concentrated and willed himself to go back to Earth. In the blink of an eye, Dante was back on Earth, right where he left. Victor was gone, but Dante knew he would find the angel eventually. All he had to do was play to the angel’s sense of justice.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Victor scrubbed the blood from Staci’s floor, occasionally pausing to wipe his brow. With his ring on, he was basically human, but with access to some of his angelic power. Even so, he was stuck acting as a human would while he was in the town of Bethlehem. These people were mostly simple folk, who no longer believed in the supernatural. He was diligent enough in his act that he had mastered feigning fatigue for their benefit. He had even seemed to struggle physically when he carried the body out of the house. His emotional turmoil was obvious, however. Nobody doubted the sincerity of the tears streaming down his face.

  Dante entered Bethlehem just before noon, and made immediately for Staci’s house. He passed by many of the people he had helped over the time he had lived here, and they all eyed him somberly. They knew, he figured. They knew what had happened, what drove his determined steps. He wended his way through town, never stopping or slowing his gait. Dante knew Victor was involved in what had happened. What he did not know was how and why. As he pondered the angel’s involvement, confusion seeped into his troubled mind. Victor mentioned his perception of Dante changing after finding out why the demon was in the past. Victor showed no signs of aggression toward him at all when they met on the road. He was reluctant to draw his sword. Why would he be so hesitant in Dante’s presence, but allow an innocent woman’s blood to stain the heavenly blade? In light of Artemis’ news of Dante being the heir to the throne of Hell, the demon figured the angel was a coward, only able to muster the courage to kill a helpless human woman. With all the power at Victor’s disposal, he could level the entire town to get to Dante. But that wasn’t his way. That was more Dante’s style, especially now that the demon had nothing to care for or to keep safe. After killing Gerard and his family, Dante was left feeling bitter and alone, no longer caring what happened to his own life.