by Amanda Churi
He finally achieved the status of “pointless being” that he had denied for years.
Aponi flashed Eero’s degrading body a promising smile. “We’ll figure something out, don’t you worry.” Like a mother, she licked her finger and brushed his broken cheek in an attempt to close a small hole. At her touch, another piece of his face vanished into the air, gone forever.
Aponi squealed with horror, yanking her hand away. “Shoot!”
“Stop trying to fix him!” Laelia barked, forcefully prying her hand away from the axon. “You’re only making this worse!”
Whimpering, Aponi closed her eyes, letting her long white hair flow over her face in defeat.
Ignoring the girl, Laelia turned back to the lively axon, taking a deep breath before clasping it once again and allowing the paths of the senses to diverge.
Her breath was taken away. Even with the absence of a heart, she almost swore that it fluttered as she observed the world through Eero’s eyes.
Satan’s dwelling, the coliseum that Eero was currently heading toward was breathtaking—a near replica of the battle arena back home that she had only seen once in her life veiled beneath the rags of a peasant.
She moaned; her soul churned in distress as the memories that did her in on Earth tried to come rushing back. Stop. What the heck is wrong with you? You can’t ever be hurt again. Literally.
Quickly doing away with her weak points, she continued to watch as Eero headed under the coliseum and into the battlefield.
Laelia gawked as she took in all of the demons and damned around him, unable to describe such horrific, degraded creatures. She could have stayed there for an eternity trying to classify each one and match them to their mythological name, but a chained figure stole her attention.
Hair laden with blood and naked body beaten, Laelia growled at the sight. “Mabel?!” Her horrified fingers trembled around the axon. “What is Eero doing to you?!”
As Eero contently kneeled beside her, allowing a damned to bind him, Laelia shook her head. She couldn’t help but stare at Mabel’s exposed, broken body, focusing on the blood bruises and gashes predominantly taken to her stomach and chest. “Eero…” she growled, her stomach burning where her scar had once been. She didn’t care whether his own hands had brought Mabel harm or not—that… Hurting a woman’s body…
It always crossed her line.
“You… Fucking… IDIOT!” she screamed, hoping that he could hear her. “You saved the girl, and now you’re going to have her killed?! What the hell is wrong with you?!”
Pushed to her limit, she ripped her hand from the nerve, clasping her wrist and rubbing it for comfort as her legs began to tremble. Oh, he would get it… He would!
“Um, Laelia? Are you ok?”
Remembering there were others, Laelia cleared her throat, turning her eyes to Aponi, who looked frightened by the fury radiating from her friend’s soul. Laelia clenched her knuckles, struggling to keep them at her side as her eyes swiftly rolled over Eero’s carcass.
Her snarl resurged. She stormed over to Aponi, grabbing her by the shoulder and knocking her onto her side. Aponi squealed with shock as she toppled over, Ryze raising his head as Laelia flung her hands around Eero’s throat, squeezing tight. Her eyes shook, and her lips trembled, her form pushing and pulling against its invisible boundaries.
“L-Laelia!” Aponi exclaimed. “Stop it!”
Laelia hissed, on the verge of crushing Eero’s fragile neck and doing him in for good. “You… Wimp.”
His eyes bore directly into hers, but his broken soul could not process a thing she said nor a thing he saw.
“Why do you always try to be a hero?!” she roared, fiercely shaking him. “You just screw up again and again! You thought you were helping Mabel, but really, you just resorted to being a spineless male! You didn’t want to fight anymore, and you brought this upon her by giving in and letting your core take over! You love her, Eero! Are you really going to let that demon who invaded your body and ruined your life destroy it more by killing her?!”
He failed to respond.
“Laelia…” Aponi tenderly grabbed Laelia’s arm and flashed her a pleading gaze. “Stop…”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” she bellowed, shoving her away with her shoulder. “He knows exactly what I’m saying! He just doesn’t want to face the consequences as usual!”
“Laelia!” Ryze countered next, his hostility making her look at him. He was standing, his back erect and arms crossed, all weakness gone. “Aponi is right. Eero has no say in this any longer—leave him alone!”
“What was the point of me saving him if he just lies here? You died because of him, so did Aponi! Who are you to—?!”
“I DIED BECAUSE OF YOU, YOU DRUNKARD! If I have a bone to pick with anyone, it’s you! Now calm down, and release him!”
Laelia’s eyes narrowed, and gradually, she loosened her grip, squaring off her friend. She could still feel her emotions racing despite his retort. Maybe he had her there… And she knew there was no point in denying the truth written in his own spilled blood, but…
She redirected her focus to one of the many neurons responsible for Eero’s sight, everything quieting around her as she watched the signals fly across the axon. What would happen? What was going on out there? With the fledglings prowling the subconscious, she had no way of knowing unless she intercepted the data elsewhere, and sitting here, merely able to watch and not have a say in the action… That wouldn’t do.
“Sorry,” Laelia grumbled. “But I’ve got other plans.”
Laelia’s hands relocked around Eero’s neck, and she closed her eyes, throwing herself off the neuron and into the abyss, taking Eero with her.
“LAELIA!” Ryze and Aponi screamed, leaning over the edge and watching with disbelief as the darkness within Eero’s overshadowed brain consumed both Laelia and her captive. The two shared a hasty, worried glance, before plunging into the depths after her.
Laelia fell hard and fast, crashing onto a neuron back-first within seconds. She grunted as Eero’s dead weight fell into her chest, but she refused to stay winded. Surging with determination, she hauled herself back up, hurling Eero’s limp soul into her arms before bolting up the steep incline of the neuron, ducking and dodging many of the cells that interfered with her pathing.
Maybe Eero knew what she was saying, maybe he didn’t; she had no way of finding out, but one thing was certain: she saved what she could so that Eero could be useful and fight back.
***
The being sitting in that throne after the eruption of fire… That famous, silver, burning throne that the world believed was comprised of skulls and blood—
That was Him?
Maeve steered her fearful eyes away, only able to look at Him from an angle. The crowd fell silent, holding their breath. Nothing so much as twitched—not even Korbu as he pointed his katana at Satan Himself.
Slumped in His chair of power, slouching with terrible posture and fatigue, He sat, holding His pitchfork with a grim expression as He looked down on the trial before Him, not the least bit excited or hyped.
He struggled to breathe. His bony jaw was dropped, and His black claws were dull at the tips as they enclosed about the rod of His weapon. His spine was crooked, as were the rest of His bones, hardly even looking attached to His current form: His head was locked at a forty-five-degree angle, His forearms had been flipped upside down, and His feet were permanently turned in toward one another. Skin and rock-hard muscle had become a thing of the past—what skin remained was in no way fit, instead wrinkled and charred, and where the skin vanished, rotting bones were visible and in functioning order, much like Korbu’s. His eyes yielded no light; the blackness within signified the dangerous state of evil that His soul had succumb to long ago, and looking into them almost made the perpetrator lose their very life. The large, ram-like horns that used to curl beside His ears had eroded away, mere nubs now sticking out of His hair that was comprised of fickle flames,
lapping around His patchy skull and adorning His neck bandaged by soiled imp hide. His eyes were oozing black blood, as was every exposed joint, all while His scaly tail rested lifelessly beside Him, thin and weak instead of strong, with the flame atop barely alight.
For once, I was speechless. What happened? This was impossible… He couldn’t possibly fall to such famine!
“Well…” He rasped, bringing His smoldering staff up and resting it over His bony knees. “This is a surprise.”
“…Lord Satan…” Korbu started. He carefully withdrew his katana and sheathed it between his femur and hip. “You… Look…”
“Gorgeous!” He flamed, His upper body snapping forward and hair flaring up, setting fire to His throne. Korbu took a single step back as Satan’s black eyes expanded, infiltrating the area beyond their sockets and increasing the rate of blood flow. Satan’s neck cracked; His head hit a solid ninety degrees as He continued to shoot invisible daggers from His eyes. “Don’t ever tell me otherwise, you hear that?!”
Korbu closed his eyes and bowed. “I am sorry, Lord… Just… Your repulsive beauty caught me by surprise.”
“As it should.” His neck returned to a forty-five, His flames retreating as He collapsed back into a slouch, sighing. His sinful eyes fell upon me, but His expression hardly changed as He raised His twisted forearm, leaning His chin on His protruding knuckles. “So, how was your trip?”
I slightly shook my head, snickering—this would be too easy; He was beside Himself, and that gave me the edge. “A bit rough, but not enough to stop me from getting back. Glorious portal, really; I’m just surprised You entrusted it to an angel.”
He groaned, His fingers bending backward and brushing His face. “I originally gave it to that Caoimhin fellow to try and steer him correctly when he was young, but he denied it like the piece of shit he is. I passed it onto Daisy afterward, trying to tempt her… Kept holding out and thinking that she would fully convert herself from a fallen angel into a demon, but nooo, she’s too ‘good’ for that. I should have confiscated it like all the others while I—” A crushing wet cough interrupted Him, sending Him lurching forward as a glob of tarnished blood flew out of His mouth. It steamed and sizzled as it hit the marble below His feet, hastily corroding the elegant stone. “Lucifer Antichrist, I just had that fixed.”
“Satan, if I may,” I started politely, “what has become of You?”
Creaking, He lifted His head slightly with His jaw twisting in disbelief. “You… Are asking me that?” A monstrous laugh captured His chest, globs of plasma flying and melting whatever it hit—demon included as a single onlooker in the crowd violently combusted into a pyre and disintegrated on the spot.
“YOU AMUSE ME, EVEN NOW, EERO!” He bellowed, smacking His knee. “Even when I’m about to rip your hell-forsaken head off your body, you still like to joke, old friend! Ah, haven’t changed a bit, have you?!”
“That’s where You’re wrong,” I interrupted calmly. My response immediately quelled Satan’s fit. “I am not here to turn myself in. I am here to beg for Your forgiveness—to mend old ties and be pardoned.”
Satan lifted a brow. He slightly leaned to one side, propping Himself up on the armrest for support. “Your joking is getting old, Eero.”
“It’s not a joke, all-powerful demon,” I urged, suppressing my anxiety and holding my stone-face. “You still have my utmost respect, as both my successor and friend. I have done wrong, I will not deny that, but I learned my lesson—I bested Your game and won, and I would like to reap the rewards of the fledglings. If You may, I would much appreciate being welcomed—”
“Enough, Eero.” Clinging to the rod of His weapon, He hurled Himself to His feet, standing as a crooked mess. “You have won nothing; you will never win. When I condemned your fate to that of an Essence, your afterlife was over from that point forth.”
“But I’m still here!”
“But for how long? Even you must know that. They will overtake you eventually; I made sure of it when I handpicked the fledglings of your Essence.” A spark of light was born in His dark eyes—a silent, victorious snicker straight from the soul that managed to punch me in the gut. Maybe His form was a Heaven of a lot weaker, but His power was still there… He was having sway over my confidence and deterring it, something only He could ever do.
“You put up the best fight of the handful of cores ever made,” Satan elaborated smugly, “but you are on Death’s watch list. He knows of your impending end, as do I—those fledglings will not remain quiet forever, no matter how hard you try… Because when you mess with me, I make sure to undeniably and irreversibly make a mess out of you.”
I took a stable breath in, clenching my jaw as I turned my eyes to Maeve. “I brought an offering, Lord—”
“And it is graciously denied!”
I stuttered, surely not expecting His answer. Korbu glanced at me over his shoulder, his smirk serving as an “I told you so.”
I could finally feel my solid, confident composure caving in. My slim chance of a pardoning was rapidly waning. “B-but You have always dreamed of acquiring the fire mage! I brought her to You! I got her!”
“Very much appreciated,” He said, “but had you remained here, you would know that I no longer care about her. Lovely prize, really, but it’s like giving one who is blind a painting—it serves no purpose.” He ran His bony fingers through His pulsing flames, taking in a breath of relief. “You may find it funny, actually, but I have little desire to cause havoc. The world is in enough of a panic as is, and, well… There’s no more fun in it. Too much of anything is bad. For many years now, my only goal has been to protect Nortora and my loyal followers.” He threw a single arm to the sky, raising His middle finger. “He can have His way with the world—I mean, it is His, after all. I did my job and made Him pay! He can have His Earth and all of the trash that comes with it, you and Mabel included!”
My ear twitched. “Mabel? Who’s that?”
Satan snickered, turning His back and waving me away. “Nobody to you anymore.” Chuckling under His breath, He plopped back down in His seat, politely crossing His legs. “Korbu, go easy on the girl and end it quick. For that bastard, however, who believes he can sweet talk me, make it nice and slow.”
“HEY!” I snapped. “I’m not done with You!”
Satan dipped His head, His eyes tearing into my soul and petrifying my body. “But I’ve been long done with you.”
My arms trembled, but not from fear—they were filling with rage, teeming at the brim and trying to pull all energy from my subconscious and soul into my muscles so that I could break the dastardly chains the moment Satan released His mental hold on me. “You’re a coward! Where has Your strength, Your pride gone?! Letting a weakling shi do Your bidding instead of Your own plagued hands? Be a real devil and kill me Yourself if You’re still so great!”
The sparse skin covering His trachea ripped; His tethered muscles suddenly bounded back and reformed as He shot to His feet, leaning over the rail as His jaw dropped open wide, clicking and uncontrollably moving from side to side. A sickeningly thick gurgle sloshed within His mouth as His corrupted black blood increased in flow. “You…” He could hardly contain Himself, the dislocated, broken bones of His fingers irately tapping the rod of His scalding pitchfork that beamed with purifying flames atop the spires. “You question my strength?!”
“It’s hard not to with You looking like such a mess. The real Satan would destroy me with His bare hands!”
“OH, DESTROY DOES NOT ACCURATELY DESCRIBE YOUR FATE NOW!” With an infuriated huff, He took His weapon in His backward hands and leaped over the rail into the arena. He landed with a spine-cringing thud, the coliseum shaking before His wrath. He snorted like a bull, cracking His shoulders as He raised His wrung spine to His towering height, snapping His neck back to a sharp ninety. “Korbu, prep the girl for execution. Dialgo, release the fucker, and get back. He’s right—I sure as Heaven deserve to rip him limb from limb.”
Both servants obeyed, and Maeve and I were hastily freed from our bondage. Satan retracted the unseen inhibitors of my body, and I stood, pulling my arms behind my head and stretching my solid muscles. My vision quickly peeled off to Maeve being led away by Korbu toward the tunnels.
So my gift hadn’t worked out as planned—fine. She was still dead, and I still had a chance to get my job and righteous title back. I just needed to beat Satan Himself—easy peasy belladonna squeezy.
But even with His feet tucked in toward each other, Satan advanced with commendable stability. His bones were repeatedly breaking and reforming with every step, His jaw and muscles twitching with excitement as my end came closer and closer.
Or so He thought.
“Kick His pelvis, Eero!”
I looked back and caught a glimpse of Maeve pulling in my direction, fighting Korbu’s hold. “You can beat Him! You did it once before—we both did! Show Him that you are better!”
I was unsure how to react. Maeve… Encouraging me, even as she was being escorted to her death?
Ah, but of course. She had done that when we first met as well—her simple, mouth-watering gesture prompting for rebellion and condemning me to this terrible reality. What, was she trying to cross me again? Screw me over for the second time? Boy, she was a devious character for supposedly being holy.
But something in her eyes made me hesitate, something in her words. I had brought the hammer of judgment down on her, tricking her into coming to Hell with me, and she still urged me on? And sincerely?
My eyes were stuck on her as she continued to stand her ground. The might and urgency behind Korbu’s tugs grew stronger, but that tiny girl remained persistent. Her teeth were bared and grinding, the tears burning her face as she dug her feet down to anchor herself so that she could see the outcome of the battle.
…BATTLE!
I jolted, spinning in Satan’s direction as His pitchfork came down for my head. I immediately threw my body to the side, tumbling through the mounds of ash with muscles stiff to give me all the momentum I could acquire. His strike narrowly missed; I had hardly gotten back onto my feet before He plowed toward me as a black blur with His pitchfork spewing flames.
