by Eric Vall
I felt my rage begin to calm when I saw the gesture of support from my friends. Oliver was right, I was in charge now, and I was making sure I scraped every slimy speck of Azazel’s influence off my cult.
Finally, we reached the entrance to the convention center. The building stretched out over our heads, with three slanted facades on each side that were completely covered with glass windows. In between each of the transparent facades was a structural pillar made of orangish-tan brick. At the very top of it all was a set of chrome metal bars that fanned out into a makeshift awning, assumedly for hanging large banners. Just behind us, the design was mirrored.
“There it is.” Todd pointed to the middle entrance on the left. “Hall C.”
I jogged over to the main door, opened it, and motioned for my friends to pass through.
“Such a gentleman,” Liby purred as she passed by.
“I do my best,” I reassured the succubus jokingly and then stepped inside.
My footsteps seemed to echo off the tile on the floor, and then became muffled as I stepped onto the gray carpet.
“This place is fucking nice, bro,” Todd whistled and looked around. “Get me a couch, a TV, a weed supplier, some snacks, and I don’t think I’d ever leave. Think of all the cool shit you could do when all the employees leave for the night!”
I didn’t even have time to process the imp’s words. I was too busy taking in all the stimuli of the sprawling center.
Hundreds of people were passing through the main hallway, chattering and laughing to their friends as they walked. There must have been another conference or convention going on down the way because several of these passersby were in formal business attire.
It didn’t exactly scream “paranormal convention.”
“I feel somewhat underdressed,” Jane scoffed as she looked down at her robes. “I thought this was a casual event?”
“It totally is.” Todd stroked his chin as he looked around. “Trust me, at the last one of these I came to, there was a guy wearing a literal potato sack with tin foil on his head. I shit you not.”
“There!” Libidine exclaimed and pointed to a young couple passing through.
These people were definitely not in formal attire. The man wore a black T-shirt with the iconic picture of a UFO flying over a forest with the words “I believe” printed below. His girlfriend was dressed in a flowing, flowery dress so big it could have been a sheet, and she also wore a bright red headband across her head.
“Those are definitely my people.” Todd nodded. “Follow those paranormaphiles!”
My friends and I tailed the couple down the massive hallway for a few minutes, until they finally stopped in front of one of the exhibit hall entrances. There was a man in large-brimmed glasses sitting at a table in front of the doors. To his right sat a cash register, and on his left laid a heap of what appeared to be passes.
The couple handed him a few bills, and the man responded by handing them two of the passes.
This must have been the place.
Todd stuck up a hand valiantly. “Let me do the talking. We paranormies speak each other’s language.”
The blond imp in disguise sauntered up to the man and placed both of his hands palms-down on the table.
“Hello, my good sir,” Todd said jubilantly. “Can me and my hombres get some passes?”
“Whattya got there, six?” The man in the glasses punched some numbers into the mechanical register, and the machine responded with a ding. “That’ll be two-hundred and forty dollars.”
Todd let out a sound that could only be described as a balloon deflating. He shook his long blond locks back and forth, chuckled, and then turned around to face us again.
“Hey, uh, Jakey?” he grimaced. “I think I’m gonna need you on this one after all.”
I fumbled around in my pocket as I approached the table. I pulled out a small pile of twenties, plopped them down on the table, and then counted out two-hundred forty.
“There ya go,” I said as I slid the bills across the table. “Exact change and everything.”
The man in the glasses looked dumbfounded. He looked back and forth between me and the bills for a second, and then he recomposed himself, opened up the register, and slid the bills in.
“I apologize.” He shook his head back and forth. “I’ve never had anyone pay that much in bills before. Here you go, six all-access passes.”
I picked up six of the purple lanyards and wrapped it around my neck.
“We get necklaces?” Libidine said excitedly as she and the rest of my friends grabbed their own passes.
“Those are way better than a necklace,” the man explained. “Those things give you access to any and all special sessions. The Q and As, the documentary screenings, the hands-on gear tests, all of it!”
“Sia would shoot me if she knew we just spent two-hundred and forty dollars to get into this place,” I whispered to Jane.
“What the succubus doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” The brunette shrugged. “Besides, I have faith Superbia will turn the Velvet Lips around. You’ll be a self-made millionaire in no time.”
“I hope so,” I said and made my way through the threshold of the exhibit hall.
On the other side of the door, there was quite the scene. This was one of the smaller rooms in the building, but I estimated it was still nearly the size of two football fields. Booths were set up all around the perimeter of the hall, and in the center sat a makeshift bazaar bustling with people from all different walks of life. Against the furthest wall sat a huge stage, complete with a twenty-foot television screen and theatrical lights.
It certainly was a modest event, but it was far from the shitshow I expected it to be.
“Brooooo,” Todd jumped up and down with excitement and pointed to a line of people, “do you know who that is over there?”
“Should I?” I asked as I squinted to see what the imp was pointing at.
“You put me to shame, bro.” Todd sighed. “That’s Nathan Emmerson, the UFOlogist who got famous doing all those ‘aliens through history’ shows.”
“Never heard of him,” I admitted.
“That’s irrelevant.” Todd waved his hand dismissively. “I’m gonna go get his autograph. Can I borrow, like, forty bucks?”
“He charges forty dollars for an autograph?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Patrick Stewart only charges seventy, and he’s a waaay bigger star than that dude.”
“Maybe in your eyes,” the imp in disguise scoffed, “but to me, Picard can’t even hold a candle to this legend.”
“Still, forty dollars?” I said with a raised eyebrow.
“Fine.” Todd sighed. “What about twenty? I’m pretty sure that’s all he charges for a picture.”
I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and outstretched it in my hand. Before I even finished my motion, Todd snatched the bill out of my grasp and was running toward the alien guy.
“You’re the best, Jakey!” he exclaimed as he hopped into the back of the line.
“Alright, guys,” I said as I distributed twenties to each member of the group. “While Todd’s waiting for that, we need to spread out and cover all the ground we can. Remember, we’re looking for any info that might give us a leg up on Azazel and his remaining succubi.”
“Got it,” Oliver confirmed. “I’m going to hit up the fortune tellers and psychics.”
“I reeaallly want to check out the clothes.” Libidine giggled. “That dress the woman outside was wearing actually looked quite comfy. What did Todd call it? The ‘hippie’ style?”
“You’ll find a lot of that kind of stuff here,” I said as I nodded toward the makeshift bazaar.
Now that we were closer to the merchants, my nostrils were being assaulted by a mixture of candles, essential oils, and incense. There was no doubt in my mind Libidine was going to find some “flower power” clothing somewhere.
“If it doesn’t make a difference, I’d like to just stay with you, Jacob,” Jane
said through pursed lips.
“I would, as well,” Cupi added. “We should probably hit up the books and see if there is anything about the occult that’s rare or notable.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed and then outstretched my hand. “Cult of Ralston on three?”
Oliver, Jane, and the succubi all put their hands on top of mine.
“One, two, three,” I counted.
“Cult of Ralston!” the five of us said together as we tossed our hands into the air.
Oliver and Liby went off in opposite directions, and Cupi and Jane followed me toward the book section.
“Did I just miss a huddle?” Todd’s annoyed voice called out his place in the line. “You gotta warn me when you do that shit, bro!”
“You can be in on the next one,” I promised the imp as the three of us passed him by.
As we split up, I marveled at how large this convention really was. This was the epicenter of occult fanatics in the Southwest United States, with some of the world’s biggest fortune tellers, demonologists, UFO experts, and the like in attendance.
If there was anything that could help us bring down Azazel once and for all, this would probably be the right place to find it.
Chapter 5
There were occult and paranormal books scattered at booths all throughout the conference, but the majority of the literature vendors were clumped dead-center in the middle of the exhibit hall.
“Check this one out,” Jane implored as she picked up one of the newer-looking books. “It’s called Demons, Angels, and The Afterlife. It looks interesting.”
“Let me see that,” Cupiditas demanded and then snatched the book before Jane could respond.
The blonde succubus sifted through the book, and her face contorted into a different look of skepticism with each turn of the page. Eventually, Cupi slammed the book shut, laughed, and shook her head.
“The things you humans come up with,” she said dismissively as she put the title back on its shelf. “We must be careful. It’s much more dangerous to have the wrong information on this stuff than it is to have no info at all.”
That’s when I saw it.
“No … ” I said to myself as I reached for the book. “It can’t be.”
“What is it, Jacob?” Jane asked curiously.
The title that caught my eye looked like any other paranormal memoir, with its warm color scheme and “creepy” cover font. What separated this book from the rest was the name of the author. John Zeitmann. The room service attendant from the Excalibur. His smiling face and name were right there on the cover.
“Remember this guy?” I asked Cupiditas as I held up the novel.
It took the blonde succubus a minute, but then she burst out laughing.
“Ah, yes,” she mused. “The guy from Vegas. He’s really milking that one encounter for all its worth, isn’t he?”
“I can’t say I blame him,” I admitted. “If I wasn’t worried about the safety of you guys and my family, I totally would be doing interviews and memoirs and all that. It’s an easy buck.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not very helpful to our situation.” Cupi sighed. “We already know everything that happened at the Excalibur. We lived it.”
We continued to scan the books in the massive booth for at least an hour, but nothing was really jumping out at us. Finally, Jane pointed to something in one of the piles.
“What about this one?” Jane grumbled as she picked up a much thinner volume. “The Lesser Key of Solomon. That’s a classic, right?”
“You’re damn right it is!” I said with a grin.
I examined the leatherbound copy of our most-discussed book and realized it had seen better days.
“It looks old,” Cupi observed. “What’s the date on it?”
Jane flipped through the first few pages as she tried to find any clue as to when the edition was published.
“Aha!” the brunette exclaimed and slapped her finger down on the page. “Right here.”
Cupi and I went over to the cultist’s side to get a better view. There, on the page, was a handwritten note dated 1879.
“What does it say?” Jane implored. “I think it might be Latin, but I’m not sure.”
“It’s definitely Latin,” I said as I leaned in closer. “I’m a little bit rusty, but it looks like it says something along the lines of ‘the truth will be revealed to the magician who holds the emerald.’ At least, that’s the closest I’m gonna be able to come to an accurate translation. What the fuck does that mean?”
The three of us thought for a second, and then Cupi’s eyes lit up.
“Jacob, I think ‘the emerald’ is talking about telekinetic Hellfire,” the blonde whispered excitedly. “If you light the book up with your magic, it might just reveal a hidden message.”
“Light the book up with Hellfire?” I chuckled. “Right here?”
“Non-magical mortals can’t see the green, remember?” Jane argued. “Everybody here will be none the wiser.”
I looked around to make sure nobody was watching. “This is insane, but I’ll give it a shot.”
I closed my eyes and thought about the reason we were here. Even though we’d experienced the sweet taste of victory three times, that fucker Azazel was relentless. He was going to keep sending his cronies after us until one of us ended up dead.
That sure as fuck wasn’t going to be me.
Cupi let out a muffled squeal of glee.
“That’s it!” Jane encouraged.
I opened my eyes and saw the entire Key of Solomon was encased with jade Hellfire.
The ink on the pages suddenly began to flow together. It pooled into the center of the page like a whirlpool and swirled in a glowing counter-clockwise pattern. Then, droplets of glowing green ink spread out across the parchment and created a brand-new text, all in Latin.
I recognized some of these words.
“Holy shit,” I murmured. “These are fucking Angelic spells.”
“That’s … that’s impossible.” Cupi shook her head. “No angel has ever revealed their magic to a mortal. It is punishable by death.”
“Well, it’s staring at me right in the face,” I argued. “So somebody in the Army of the Divine must have--”
“Ah, the Lesser Key of Solomon,” a man’s voice mused from behind. “An oldie, but a goodie!”
I slammed the book shut and spun around to greet our eavesdropper.
He was an older gentleman with a button-up black shirt that matched his graying black hair and small peppered goatee. The man’s skin was unbelievably tan, and he had a certain glimmer of charm in his blue eyes.
“I’m sorry, son.” He held out his hands defensively. “I didn’t mean to startle you. My name’s Jackson. I’m the owner of this booth here.”
I shook off my initial shock and then shook Jackson’s hand.
“Nice to meet you,” I said with a polite nod. “You own all of these books?”
“Sure do!” He grinned. “Much to the disdain of my wife, I’ve gotten quite the collection over the years. That’s why I’m selling so many of them.”
“It looks like you have a lot of old books,” Cupi added. “How on Earth did you find some of these?”
The man put a finger over his mouth and made a shushing sound. “A good collector never reveals his secrets to a competitor,” he explained playfully.
“And what makes you think we’re competitors?” I asked cautiously.
“Well, you’re holding an 1879 edition of the Lesser Key of Solomon, for starters,” he pointed out. “That book is ridiculously easy to find. Hell, you can get a brand new copy for less than ten bucks online! No, no … you guys are interested in that edition right there because you appreciate its true value, just like me.”
“We’re definitely interested,” I agreed. “How much are you asking for it?”
“Tell you what, son,” the old man pondered as he stared at the floor. “Normally, I’d be asking for two-hundred. But, becau
se I like you and your friends here, I’ll part with it for fifty.”
My mouth fell agape. “Seriously?” I gasped.
“Why not?” Jackson shrugged. “The convention’s been going on for days now, and you’re the first person to even touch the damn thing. I’d much rather it end up with somebody who appreciates it than in a donation bin somewhere.”
I quickly fumbled around in my pocket, pulled out three twenties, and placed them in Jackson’s hand.
“Let me go get your change--”
“Not necessary,” I said with a wave of my hand. “Keep the change. It’s the least I can do for you after you cut me such a great deal.”
“I appreciate it, son.” Jackson nodded. “Do you need a bag for that?”
“I don’t think it’ll be necessary,” I reassured the man, “but thank you anyway.”
“You take care now, you hear?” Jackson shot us one last grin and then turned and walked back to the check-out area of the booth.
“What a sweet old man,” Jane gushed as we left the book area.
“Get used to it,” Cupi explained. “People of Earth Realm are very kind when Jacob is around.”
“What can I say?” I shrugged. “I have a way with people. Now, we should probably--”
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention on the main stage, please?” a timid voice came over the loudspeakers. “We’re about to begin a very special question and answer session over a topic you’ll all be drooling over … first-hand demon encounters.”
The three of us looked at each other cautiously. We didn’t even need to say anything. We all wanted to see what this guy was talking about.
Cupi, Jane, and I made our way over to the mainstage area of the exhibit hall as quickly as we possibly could. There was already an enormous crowd gathered around the stage when we arrived, making it standing room only. The girls and I stood at the very back of the assembly and waited patiently to see what was going to happen next.
On the stage stood a scrawny man in a yellow dress shirt and khaki pants. He was nervously pacing the stage with a microphone in his hand, and he paused every so often to readjust his tucked-in shirt.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the man started, “for this Q&A session, we have two very special guests. These sisters claim to not only have encountered a demon but worked for him!”
