Demonic Double Cross

by B Branin

  * * * * *

  One second I was free falling, trying desperately to summon the ability to fly without the assistance of wings or a jet pack.

  The next second I’m seated in a comfortable office.

  I know… I was confused too.

  The office oozed professionalism. Everything from the rich lacquered desk to the leather seat my ass was currently occupying screamed craftsmanship. Dazed by the falling sensation I was experiencing just moments ago, I tried to shift gears to deal with my new surroundings. I looked about, desperately searching for some clue to tell me what the hell was going on.

  I became more than a little concerned about the fact there was no door to this office.

  Other than no visible entrance or exit, the room seemed normal enough. A plant in the corner, a small AC wall unit and a couple paintings that featured cozy little sailboats. But no door. Without an exit, I got the distinct impression I was inside an enormous (yet comfortable) coffin.

  “Hello, Mr. Broker.”

  Nearly jumping out of my seat, I turned back around to find that I was no longer alone. Seated comfortably behind the desk was a man that I immediately distrusted. He was devilishly handsome and seemed to radiate confidence. His immaculate white suit was tailored a bit too perfectly, emphasizing his powerful frame to the point it almost seemed like a threat. Even his jet black hair seemed picture perfect, not a single strand out of place on his close-cropped locks.

  Oh and I should probably mention that this gentleman had a pair of horns jutting out of either side of his forehead and his eyes were swirling voids of darkness that seemed to pierce my very soul.

  “Goddammit!” I groaned, “I’m dead aren’t I?”

  The man’s smile widened just enough to reveal pearly teeth as he replied, “No, you’re just having a near death experience. The fall won’t kill you if that’s your concern. Since you still bear a symbol on your chest that is a connection between our realms, I made use of it. Forgive me but I couldn’t resist inviting myself into your psyche so we could chat.”

  “Wait!” I exclaimed, sitting straight up in my chair, “So I’m alive?!”

  “Yes. Your body will land on a balcony a floor down in about five seconds.” The gentleman behind the desk informed me, “But I figured it was time for us to meet face to face. Or rather, mind to mind as it were.”

  “Um, five seconds doesn’t seem like enough time for a talk.” I said, settling back down into the chair.

  “Time passes differently in a mental realm than in your world. Five seconds can be an eternity. We are functioning at the speed of thought so there is no rush,” The man casually explained, opening up one drawer of his desk and produced an amber glass bottle as well as a leather box, “Would you care for some brandy? Perhaps a cigar?”

  “No thank you,” I refused, “Mister…?”

  The man’s smile widened even more, revealing he did not have pearly teeth but pearly fangs.

  “My true name is beyond your comprehension. You may call me Macula or Lord Macula if you prefer.” The gentleman informed me as he set the bottle down after pouring himself a drink.

  I groaned.

  “Two out of body experiences in the same day?” I griped, “First a drug kicked me out of my body now I’m in hell!”

  Macula laughed heartily as he brought the drink to his lips and sipped it.

  “Hell? Most certainly not! I thought this setting would please you.” Macula replied with his free hand sweeping across the room, “I summoned it from your subconscious after all.”

  Well that made a little sense. This office was the kind I would have liked to own had I turned out to be a successful CEO instead of a lowly conman.

  “So why am I here?” I asked, wishing that I had accepted that drink, “Are you going to damn me for messing with that crazy broad of yours?”

  “Please don’t get too defensive Mr. Broker,” Macula spoke in what he must have perceived as a soothing tone, “We’re just here to talk, nothing more. You and I are a lot alike.”

  “Must be the horns.” I said flatly.

  “Clever. But no, I don’t mean physically. After all this form I’m wearing was taken from your subconscious as well. I selected the one thing you hated most and added a few devilish twists to it.” Macula explained, straightening his tie.

  “Prosecuting attorneys.” I said immediately, seeing it now. If you removed the horns and pools of darkness for eyes, Macula looked exactly like the slick lawyers who were always trying to put me away, “So you’re like, what? The devil?”

  “That’s difficult to explain. I am a devil but not the devil as you mortals perceive it.” Macula commented coolly as if a soft tone of voice would somehow make the revelation a little less dramatic, “What you mortals know about life after death is so…limited. Different realities, planes of existence, deities, devils and all manner of dogmas and hierarchies exist once you shed your mortal form. But that’s not what we are here to discuss.”

  “Good.” I replied bluntly, rubbing my temple as this devil droned on, “Because in case you haven’t heard, I’m a born again atheist so I don’t believe in you.”

  “I like your wit.” Macula chuckled, “That was half of the reason I wanted to speak with you.”

  An ice ball began to form in the pit of my stomach.

  “The other half?” I prompted.

  “Well, I could use a man like you on my team.” Macula began, setting down his brandy glass and adopting a professional manner, “Lorraine has been useful these past few…what has it been in your existence? Centuries? Yes, centuries but she is…falling behind in the times. She does worship me like a God but that only does me so much good.”

  I felt disbelief swell up inside me. This was the “deity” that Lorraine fanatically served for over a thousand years? This was the Lord and Master that she had murdered for, swapped bodies for, sacrificed souls to?!

  “She has given you people’s souls!” I declared, angry at myself for not being able to control the disgust in my voice.

  If Macula had any eyeballs to roll, I’m sure that is what the devil would have done. He sighed as if I were a kid who just discovered you had to kill a cow to get the steak.

  “What she does is supply me with a resource…though Lorraine is overly theatrical about it. To be honest, I never wanted her to start a cult. It makes her feel more empowered so she did so on her own accord,” The devil shrugged like a father who was disappointed in his daughter’s choice of boyfriend, “But I did demand souls for tribute. How to explain it with your limited understanding… You see, in the realm that I am currently residing in, human souls have many uses. Think of them as fuel or nourishment for us greater beings. The more we consume, the more ‘power’ we have.”

  This superior being, this otherworldly devil, made annoying quotation marks in the air when he uttered the word “power.” If I hadn’t been so revolted and terrified at his explanation, I might have laughed.

  “Great,” I managed to reply while shaking my head, “My immortal soul that Father O’Brawley goes on and on about is just fossil fuel for some gas guzzling demon.”

  Another rich laugh from Macula.

  “It’s much, much more complex than that. But that’s beside the point. My point is that human souls have value for a being like myself.” Macula dove right back into business, “Now some time ago, I granted Lorraine, a dabbler in witchcraft, a variety of mystic abilities. Primarily the art of transferring souls. Our arrangement was that every time she swapped bodies, she would keep the soul that she had drained from her new body. These souls would become my tribute.”

  “Yeah. You make it sound a lot less diabolical then she does.” I confessed, “But I still don’t know why you need me.”

  “Hear me out before you condemn me to be ‘diabolical.’” The devil interjected, “The quality and quantity of these souls that are sacrificed are hardly worth my time. Even the cult that worships me is providing me with very little additional strengt
h. And to be perfectly blunt, their prayers are beginning to annoy me.”

  Note to self: Address all prayers to a less temperamental deity.

  “But the idea of having regular worshippers is intriguing. Very little happens in your realm worthy of note but this idea holds too much potential to disregard.” As he spoke, Macula drew a cigar from the box and ignited it with a touch of his finger, “Given enough time and effort, I could place my followers in the highest positions of power. Think of it! Every religious leader and politician of your world would be the host body to a soul that is utterly devoted to me and me alone.”

  Oh for the love of all that is good and decent! That sounded absolutely, indisputably…brilliant! My mind ran through a quick pro-and-con of this scheme and found it nearly flawless. I mean, even if someone would rise up to fight the oppression of Macula’s follower-turned-world-leader, they could easily become the next glove for another demonic loyalist to wear. It was a world wide pyramid scheme that no one could detect!

  That no one would believe!

  “Now, if I have an entire population of mortals worshipping me…and perhaps the occasional thousand or so sacrifices, I would get quite an increase to my already immense power. Enough to create my own demonic hierarchy or possibly even my own plane of existence.” Macula blathered on, “There is only one problem: Lorraine doesn’t think big. She wouldn’t be able to make my vision a reality. She lacks both the tact and the precision which makes her useless to me.”

  The ice ball in the pit of my stomach expanded rapidly, making me feel sick and nervous in equal measure. This was the part where I’d be made an offer I couldn’t refuse.

  “That’s why I want you, Mr. Broker.” Macula finished as he clasped his hands together on top of his desk, “You are clever, resourceful and very convincing. Just the kind of man I need to expand my operation. How about it? Immortality, powers beyond your wildest dream and if you do your job correctly, you could hold any seat of power you want. The only higher authority you will answer to is me.”

  The devil was quite pleased with himself, puffing on his cigar as he leaned back into his chair. I had just shot down Lorraine’s offer for immortality but now the deal was sweetened by replacing the crazy bitch. Oh and throw in the possibility of becoming the president of the free world or the fucking Pope!

  “I don’t think I’m the man for the job.” I managed to choke out, each word feeling like a razorblade in my throat.

  “Oh, nonsense. You were born for this! I’ve done some research on you and I am very pleased with what I found. It’s a small wonder why you’ve turned out so devious considering who your family is!” Macula exclaimed, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a thin folder. He tossed it on the desk between us where the folder opened on its own accord, revealing a trio of photos. Each was a profile picture, two young men and a young woman, all of them grinning with genuine mirth. Though I hadn’t known any of them in their prime, I recognized my mother, my father, and my uncle.

  “It’s a shame you’re so ignorant of your family history. After all, you are the product of an interesting upbringing. Your father was a talented thief but decided it was easier to steal from mobsters than to break into jewelry stores.” Macula began, reaching out and tapping a man who I resembled at age eighteen, “He was lucky enough to keep ahead of those he had stolen from…for a time. Things became complicated when he met your mother.”

  The devil paused, puffing on his cigar as he refilled his brandy glass. Despite my best efforts, I was hanging on his every word. He was showing me a family I had never known, a family I’d never been brave enough to seek out.

  “She was a Broadway actress with a drug problem, yet still managed to catch your father’s eye. Your mother was a genius when it came to costume and character, with the uncanny talent of changing personas as easily as clothing. Her talent was fueled by her own self-loathing, just like her drug habit. You could say she was a method actress out of necessity.”

  I felt my throat constrict. Really, I had no reason to be angry or stung by those words. Yes, they were backhanded comments directed at my parents but so what? My parents were people I had never known. Vague memories of the couple I was instructed to call “Mom” and “Dad” haunted my childhood, appearing and disappearing from my life so suddenly that I thought parents were no more real than Santa or the Easter Bunny.

  “The moment they discovered you were growing inside your mother’s womb, they decided to turn their lives around. Your mother actually kicked a life-long coke habit once she discovered she was pregnant. Quite the feat.” Macula continued, licking his lips as if informing me of my family’s sins was the most delicious treat imaginable, “They were convinced a better life was just around the corner. Your father would pull off one final job, ripping off a treaty exchange between two feuding crime syndicates. A courageous stunt that earned them half a million dollars. Just one problem: your father ended up killing one of the gangsters…the bastard son of a crime boss.”

  Staring down at the pictures before me, I didn’t feel much. Numbness wasn’t exactly the right word for it. Having never been apart of any true family, it was impossible to feel any pain or loss upon hearing about this melodramatic tragedy. I wasn’t hurting or angry. I was simply…intrigued.

  I did my best to hide it, not wanting to give Macula the satisfaction.

  Truth is I had been a border-line street urchin as a child, only coming home to my uncle’s house to sleep. And that had only lasted long enough until I was able to survive on my own. So how could this tale hurt me? Callous as that may sound it was the truth. Even as a child I had only asked about my parents once or twice, more out of boredom than curiosity. If my uncle was loaded with enough whiskey, he’d make cryptic comments about how my father had been a good man trapped in a bad world…if he had been drinking vodka, he’d rage over how my father had been an idiot who never stopped pushing his luck.

  “They tried to keep ahead of the crime boss’ wrath but knew it was only a matter of time before they were hunted down. So your parents dumped you, only a year old, into the custody of your uncle. Ha! Your parents knew that was a mistake but they were desperate.” The devil drawled on with that damn grin on his lips, “Which brings me to your uncle. Like your father, he was quite the accomplished criminal though on a much grander scale. Believe it or not, that bloated booze-sponge that fed and clothed you was once the best freelance assassin in the nation.”

  Even though I was speaking with an otherworldly being, a devil of all things, I felt skepticism rise up inside me. I had long ago realized my uncle had a gift for violence but to think he was some sort of super hit man? Now that truly seemed impossible! Apparently my doubt appeared on my face because Macula was almost roaring with laughter.

  “It’s true! There was a time where your uncle’s very name would make bodyguards tremble and mob bosses cringe. He was ruthless and it was said that no one was beyond his reach.” Macula spoke, tapping the picture that portrayed my youthful uncle before years of binging and hygiene neglect had warped him, “His first mistake was his last. Contracted to kill a politician who was cracking down on organized crime, your uncle rigged a hotel room with explosives…but the politician’s wife and four year old daughter arrived first.”

  The damn devil clapped his hands once for effect.

  “Boom. Killed them both as well as a nanny and a bellhop. Your uncle couldn’t cope with the failure or the fact he had killed a child. He drank himself into the mess that you’ve always known. He agreed to take you in when your parents fled for two hundred dollars and a bottle of whiskey.” Macula smirked, this time I had a feeling that it was directed at me, “Can’t you see what this makes you? You were born of a thief and a drug addict and raised by a murderer! The very need to do wrong has been bred into your very bones! All I am doing is giving you the opportunity to fulfill the legacy of sin you were meant to inherit!”

  The devil extended his hand for a symbolic shake, to seal the deal he had pr
oposed. Looking down at his hand, I felt my voice catch in my throat. All along his hand, from the tips of his blackened fingernails to his exposed wrist, were what appeared to be tiny scratches and creases. My eyes were sharp enough to see the markings for what they really were: Tiny runes that seemed burned into his very flesh.

  Just a few scant hours ago this very hand had reached through worlds to possess my vacant body after my accidental injection of Soul Scream. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to find Macula’s hand was literally behind the events at the St. Donovan’s church. After all, he was the true power behind Lorraine and the Daughters of All. So why wouldn’t he be the instigator who tried to make my body murder Father O’Brawley and Fiona?

  That’s when I saw Macula for what he truly was.

  Sure, Macula was a devil in the literal sense but to be honest, I had met him a hundred times before throughout my life. He was just another plotter, schemer, and double-crosser. There was at least one Macula located in every loan office, bank, car dealership or courthouse. The awe and astonishment of speaking to an otherworldly being faded fast as I recognized my true enemy: Just another blowhard thinking everyone else was a pawn for him to use.

  Thinking I was a pawn to be used.

  If that were the case the poor sap was in for a rude awakening!

  “Thanks for shedding some light on my particularly twisted family tree,” I remarked, leaning back in my chair as casually as I could, “But I think you missed the moral of the very story you told me.”

  Macula’s smile narrowed dangerously.

  “That being?” He asked.

  “Stupidity. It seems to be my family’s theme.” I chuckled, “If every one of my family met their end because of stupid choices, it’s only natural I'd do the same, right? So don’t take it too hard when I say that I'll never work with a sorry sack of shit like you.” “Reconsider.” Growled the devil, leaning forward menacingly, “You don’t want me as an enemy.”

  “I’ve been doing pretty well with you as my enemy so far,” I replied flippantly with a wave of my hand, “I’ve outwitted your head priestess, killed her partner and now I know exactly what you plan to do with the Daughters of All.”

  There was a tension filled silence as Macula stared at me, as if unable to comprehend what he had just heard. Then the air split as he bellowed, “You pathetic little mortal! You dare defy me?!”

  Before my very eyes Macula began to grow, tripling in height and stature in a blink of an eye. Wait. That wasn’t right. As I saw the leather arms of the chair start to expand, I realized that the devil wasn’t changing size. I was! In the space of a few heartbeats I suddenly found myself no larger than a thimble. Before I could even think about escape, a shadow blanketed the area as five, claw-tipped fingers descended towards me.

  For the second time that day, I was literally in the palm of Macula’s hand.

  Thanks to my reduced size, my suspicions were proven correct. The runes branded into Macula’s flesh matched those on the disembodied hand that had assaulted me at the church. Unfortunately this time I didn’t have Fiona or Father O’Brawley to save my sorry ass.

  “You were lucky earlier, mortal!” Snarled Macula, bringing me up to his face as his lightless eyes swirled angrily, “Being inside that filthy church diminished my hold on you but no longer! What are you humans so fond of saying?”

  The devil’s face split into a grin, revealing white fangs that were now nearly twice my size.

  “Ah yes. ‘You are in my world now!’” Macula finished with a thunderous laugh as his fingers began to curl around me, beginning to crush the life from my frail body.

  Panic surged through me and I tasted blood. My eyes darted around wildly, desperate to find some means of escape. I may be in his world but…wait a minute! Didn’t Macula say that he had come to me? Wasn’t this setting and even his very appearance brought out of my subconscious? He kept referring to my mind as our meeting place so didn’t that mean he had it all wrong?!

  I wasn’t in his world...he was in mine!

  “Go to hell!” I shouted.

  Macula’s laughter abruptly caught in his throat as he stared down at me in shock.

  “What did you say mortal?!” He bellowed so loudly I thought my skull would rupture.

  His fingers tightened around me.

  I fought through the pain, grinning viciously up at the devil.

  “This meeting is over!” I repeated, sucking the breath to shout through gritted teeth, “Everyone has to abide by some set of rules, right? Well, since you are a guest in my mind, I am going to invoke the power of every host: Kicking your ass to the curb!”