Dancing In The Void

Evan woke up with a massive headache.

The back of his head was shuddering with rhythmic throbs that paused for a couple seconds between each painful pulse. It was just a lengthy enough pause that he thought it would go away on its own, before that frail hope was brutally snatched away and the pain returned. With an aching sigh, he slumped out of bed and threw on some pants. Rushing to the bathroom, he was annoyed to not find any proper medicine.

“Where did I put it?” He asked himself, trying to remember. He walked from room to room, irritated but eventually the right memory came to light. He checked one of the drawers beside the bed, remembering that he put it closer last time he had a headache from sleeping too much. After that, he paused for a moment in bed and slumped back under the covers. He quickly put an alarm on his phone for another hour and a half from now, and drifted off to sleep, letting the pill hopefully do its job. It didn’t. An hour later he drifted back awake, unsure if he dreamt anything at all or simply forgot.

“What a lousy day.” He mumbled. “Probably shouldn’t have drank like a pig last night…”

As if on cue, his phone buzzed with a text message. His face lit up seeing that it was from Constantine.

Movie night?

Had a bad day yesterday.

At Niko’s.

He thought for a few seconds before responding. His fingers danced over the digital keyboard, the excitement of the proposition combined with the slight concern for his friend breathing new life into him.

Sure!

Want me to get anything?

What time?

Also, sorry to hear that bud, everything good?

Six sounds good.

Get some booze?

And yeah, I’m good now, something broke my fucking window.

Hah, was it a pigeon?

Nah, I’ll tell ya later. Some snacks too.

We got popcorn, see if the pastry’s open, maybe you can get us some eclairs?

Desserts for later.

Sure, but you still owe me twenty from when we got Saraid’s.

DUDE I THOUGHT YOU HAD ME? I PAID YOUR BUS FARE!

Evan laughed heartily to himself. Saraid’s was a döner kebab restaurant the three of them occasionally dropped by after classes. About a year back on a chilly autumn day they’d all gotten some food, but Constantine was short on cash. Evan chipped in to pay his share out of the generosity of his heart. Ever since he’s made sure to keep that event as a trump card in his pocket. He’d wait for Constantine to forget about it, and he’d bring it up whenever he felt it was good for a laugh. Constantine’s reaction usually made it worth it in his eyes as did seeing what new excuse he could come up with for why their debt had been paid.

“I don’t think I’ve taken the bus a single time in the last year Consty, hah.” He chuckled.

Reinvigorated, he crawled out of bed and got prepared for the day ahead. He scanned his surroundings first. His room was a bit of a mess, something unusual for him. Normally Evan was a bit of a stickler about keeping his place organized and clean. After his latest late-night partying however, it seemed neither him nor his partner much cared about the clean-up. That much was evident by her disappearance long before he woke up.

A thought crossed his mind, now that he was more awake. He quickly checked his pants for his wallet, and with a sigh was glad to find it still there. He was even more rejoiced when he found a note in said wallet:

That was fun, call me again sometime - xoxox

He thought about tearing it in half and throwing it away, but after some hazy memories of the previous night trickled into his consciousness, he decided to keep the note. Then looking over the room again, he debated whether to clean it up now or clean it up when he returned. It was quite a debate, as the habit to keep his room clean was one instilled, drilled in him by his father, Antonio, at a very young age.

His father was a religious man, strict and diligent but very loving. He always made sure to push his son to be his best self. In his way, he honored the memory of his dearest love, who perished during Evan’s birth. His father wasn’t around now however, his home being up north in Gausville, so Evan decided he could let it slide this one time.

Thank god he’s not here, If dad could see me get up at this hour on a saturday he’d slap me… Evan thought to himself.

The first real obstacle Evan decided to tackle, after getting cleaned up and grabbing what could tentatively be described as ‘breakfast’ - nothing more than some cheese, ham, and butter on two slices of bread - was deciding what to wear. He didn’t care about fashion or what other people thought of his looks, but he enjoyed putting a little effort into his outfit on certain occasions, especially important ones like hanging out with his friends.

He combed through his wardrobe, bouncing between a few different articles of clothing before deciding on his outfit. Dark-wash jeans, with a stylized black and yellow shirt underneath, and a lighter denim vest over it all. He checked himself out in the mirror, satisfied with his look as he spritzed a bit of cologne on. His curly, wild hair needed little gel or foam to arrange, just a bit of hand-combing at it was perfect.

“Agh!” Evan yelped. He looked at his left hand, and noticed a small cut on his index finger. “How’d I get that?” He said, sucking his finger to soothe the wound. Then he passed his other hand through his hair, wondering if there was a shard of glass or something in it. When the object responsible couldn’t be found, he just shrugged and ran off into the vestibule, ready to rush out into the world. Then immediately he turned back, as he forgot his shopping bag. Then he left.

“Evan, your damned music and banging kept me up all night again!” A raspy, loud voice hollered at him as he whizzed down the stairs.

Evan paused, annoyed, and addressed the old man that had accosted him. “It was a friday, Bob, I can do what I want. People go out to drink, party, fuck. Maybe if your dick still worked you could try it sometime?” He smirked, and flashed two fingers on his left hand in the shape of a ‘V’.

“Fuck you, you little shit. I’ll tell your fucking landlord you’re bringing whores in the apartment again!” The ratchety man screamed. “One day you’ll be in my shoes and some arrogant little cunt will talk shit to you too! I would love to see your ass then.”

Evan was already walking away. He decided to yell back a few final remarks. “He fucks too don’t worry. And remember Bob, I’m gonna be young forever while you’re gonna die sad and alone within a year, God help you…” He said, now fully out of earshot. “...Prick.”

Thankfully as he made his way to the closest supermarket, he didn’t run into any other aggressors. He didn’t have many, but Evan was oftentimes overconfident, almost aggressively so. This made him a difficult pill to swallow in the eyes of those unwilling or uncaring enough to see past it. Although it wasn’t always the fault of others, as Evan often failed to give anyone else a chance as well. Impatience was a trait he shared with Constantine, one that his father tried to educate out of both. It would be difficult to imagine that out of the two of them, he was the one his father had more success with.

“That’ll be fifty-seven seventy-six.” The cute cashier said as he finished scanning Evan’s last few bottles. “I’ll also need to see your I.D.”

“Damn I shouldn’t have shaved today huh, do I really look that young?” Evan chuckled. “Josephine doesn’t usually card me.”

“Well don’t let the manager know that. You’d be surprised how many youthful faces I see in a day.” The cashier said, laughing with him. His eyes went wide and his laughter intensified once he saw his actual age on his card. “And you’re barely twenty! Coming over here acting like you’re thirty-five or some shit… Jesus.”

“I’m messing, I’m messing.” Evan chuckled back. “Here, you can keep the change for yourself.”

“Why… thanks?” He said, confused.

“Yeah, I’m nice like that. Have a good day, sir!” Evan said, rushing out. It was a somewhat cloudy day today, but it was still nice and warm, with only a slight cooling breeze. Evan enjoyed these sort of long walks through the city, just soaking in the calm atmosphere. He liked pausing on a bench in one of the parks, watching the people pass by. Scenarios would pop up into his head, stories about each person and where they were going and why, or what they’d be chatting about with the person they were with. Each story was more wild and creative than the last. Starfall park was his favorite in the city, also being pretty much the largest.

Today was especially busy, as an absurd amount of preparation was being wrapped up for this Sunday. It was Halloween, and the carnival had arrived in town. Food vendors, games, arcades, and many different thrill rides and even a rollercoaster had been installed in the park. Evan walked along through the park, seeing them littering each side of the path, some closed, some open, almost all with many people and workers around making sure everything was ready.

The best part to him were the decorations, how the trees were painted red with blood and fake cobwebs and spiders were arranged in the branches, or how tombstones and skeletons were poking out through the dirt and grass. And of course, the dozens, hundreds of differently carved jack-o'-lanterns he could see placed between all over the park just during this brief visit. None were lit yet, and Evan could only look forward to seeing how the city would glow tomorrow, once night fell and the electrifying orange lights were turned on.

“Shit, what’s the time?” He said, quickly checking his phone. It was fifteen past five. Nikolai’s place was only some thirty minutes away, but he still liked to be punctual. With a content sigh, he turned and walked away.

Ding-Dong

Rang Nikolai’s doorbell. A few minutes passed. Evan heard some commotion inside and Constantine’s voice. He waited another moment. Then he rang again.

Ding-Dong, Ding-Dong.

“I’m coming, fucker!” Constantine’s voice could be heard. Evan held back a stupid smile as he moved to ring again, but his friend was faster. The door swung open.

“Let’s get this party started early!” Evan said, lifting his shopping bag full of goods.

Mephisto was loath to be the one to deliver Azazel bad news, and his contempt only grew as he approached his boss’ office and heard him screaming into his phone.

“NO! No, no, fuck no. Listen here you piece of shit. I asked for three hundred guns with ammunition ok? WITH! You got your fucking money, now I want my part of the deal.” Azazel shouted. He was standing in front of the window in his office, pacing back and forth as much as the phone cord would allow.

His secretary, Laverna, was also standing in Azazel’s large office chair, typing away at a laptop on his desk. Occasionally, she’d look up at her boss with a worried look in her eyes. When Mephisto walked through the open door frame, she shook her head, stopping him from knocking. He nodded back in understanding, and walked in, plopping himself on the couch.

“But listen, I keep trying to tell you that there’s been shipment issues. Police are on us since last time we made deals in the southern dockside-” The voice on the other end spoke. Although he seemed calmer than Azazel, his voice was somehow even louder, able for Mephisto to clearly hear every word even at a distance.

“Listen, I want three hundred. Not two hundred, not one, not two hundred and ninety-nine, three hundred. I don’t care how you fucking do it, I gave you the money now I need what I paid for!” Azazel continued his tirade, kicking a nearby trash can and throwing crumpled up paper all over the room. Mephisto took one look at it and laid back against the couch, uncaring.

“We won't be able to get it-”

“Hey, Johan. How's Mirrell?” Azazel asked sharply. Mephisto watched closely as his boss’ mood flipped from angry to sly and malicious in an instant. He immediately realized what he was doing, what the sudden unrelated question meant. If Azazel wanted to get his shipment fully, simply yelling wasn’t gonna cut it. When intimidations failed, it was time for a threat to remind the fool on the other end who really was in charge.

“What? What the fuck are you saying?” The voice on the other end said, suddenly full of panic.

“I heard from my boys that she's gotten so pretty now. What is she eight? Quite young... very young indeed…” He said, turning around and seeing Mephisto in his room. The demon looked at him and smiled devilishly. “Is she in your room right now? Or is she out in the garden playing? She is, isn’t she? She’s probably climbing all over that plastic slide you bought her the other week.”

“How do you know? W-what, y-you… YOU MOTHERFUCKER IF YOU TOUCH A HA-”

“Listen very closely to me Johan.” Azazel said, his voice suddenly very quiet and vibrating with an ice-cold timbre. “I haven’t yet decided if I would rather leave your dear daughter an orphan to be adopted by the streets or if it would be more fun to bring you and your whore wife to a show where I chop her limbs off and throw them as food or chew toys for my dogs. Do you understand what I’m getting at you thick cunt or do you need even further elaboration?”

“Alright, alright, alright! Please, just, lets all calm down you fucking psychopath. I got the message. I’ll send the full shipment, three hundred, I’ll even throw in some extra loot I got stored. Please, just stay the fuck away from my family.”

“Don’t ever fucking forget it, I run this fucking town. If I say you deliver to the southern dockside, then that's where you go. If the police give you issues, you give them my number. Three hundred, Johan.” He said calmly, slamming the phone down on the desk and making Laverna jump. He then walked to Mephisto, satisfaction written on his face, and sat across the coffee table from him on another small couch. Before anyone said anything, he picked up the small lamp on the table and threw it across the room, shattering it against the wall.

“That went well.” His secretary said without looking up from the computer screen. “I’ll tell Baal to order another lamp.”

“Pffsh, hahaha, These fuckers don't know who they’re dealing with.” Azazel chuckled fakely. He kicked his feet up on the table knocking over a stack of papers. Then he pulled out a cigarette and tried lighting it. When his lighter failed, he sighed and put it back, motioning to Mephisto to pay attention. “You know what I hate, Mephistopheles?”

“When your lighter doesn't work?” The demon answered, leaning back casually on the couch.

“No. I hate fish.” Azazel said without an ounce of irony or humor on his face. His expression was one of pure sincerity and honesty.

“Fish.” Mephisto echoed. “Why? I had fish a few times since I came here. Tasted pretty good, its nice that I don’t have to actually sharpen a spear for it. Buying it in a store is so convenient.”

“I can’t imagine that. Fish is just disgusting, slimy oily meat. Tastes like wet sludge. And don’t think I haven’t tried right, I fucking did. Salmon, tuna, halibut, trout. I tried expensive fish, I tried cheap fish, I tried sushi fish by that one oriental vendor down the street that everyone says is the shit, nothing.” Azazel shrugged, almost disappointed. “And its not a seafood thing, cause shrimp, lobster, oysters, I’ve had plenty of those that I like, but fish is just a god-forsaken unholy little abomination of a food that I can’t stand. I can’t stand it in general, with those bulging dead eyes, and the gross insides that you have to take out…”

“You disembowel people, spilling their organs and intestines all over you without even blinking, but fish guts freak you out?” Mephisto asked, bewildered.

“I wouldn’t say freak, its just nauseating. Worst of all is the fucking bones. God the fucking bones!” Azazel shouted, leaning forward with an angered glare in his green eyes. “You spend an hour cooking the fish, preparing a wonderful meal while you’re salivating at the thought of it, but oh, before you eat it you have to split it open in half, take out its spine and ohohoho, what's this, you didn't take it out fully so now you have to stick your grimy fingers in it and break up the meat to get all the small little fucking shards and the ribs which are fucking these tiny little white needle shits stabbing you in the throat because you spent an hour picking apart your food and of course you missed one because GOD DAMN FISH!” He screamed, causing a long, pressing silence to linger over the room with Mephisto staring at him as if he was an asylum escapee. Even Laverna stopped typing and was staring at her boss, mildly concerned. To break the silence, Azazel continued. “Imagine if you went to a fancy restaurant, ordered a high-class pizza, but the chef hid fucking toothpicks in your food that you had to pick out before you ate. Shit’s fucking madness!”

Mephisto looked at his boss for a moment, and decided he’d best change the subject before his aquatic animal tirade got him to hurt himself. “So… who was that on the phone?”

“Who? Oh that, just some dumb fuck who thought he could scam me out of my hard-earned money.”

“Hard-earned… right.” Laverna couldn’t stop herself from commenting. Azazel’s head turned slowly towards her. He wasn’t laughing, nor was he in any semblance of a jolly mood. “Sorry.” She added meekly.

“How much more do you have?”

“Just a couple more forms.”

“Leave it, take a break, come back tomorrow.” Azazel commanded.

“You sure? I can finish-” Laverna protested, but she was interrupted.

“No, get out.” He said. The two demons watched her as she picked up her stuff and bolted out, closing the door behind her. “Now, Mephy, tell me you got some good news.”

Mephisto gulped. “Um.” Was all he managed to say before Azazel groaned.

“Guuuhhh… God what a day.” He said. “Alright, what’s wrong?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say anything’s really wrong, its just that… well, we haven’t found anything yet.” Mephisto said with a shrug. “The tunnels just keep going and going and all the men you sent are taking it slowly to not get lost.”

“Tell them to move fa-”

“I did. I’m being as aggressive as I can. They listen, but its a lot.” Mephisto interrupted.

“Come the fuck on, how big can the undercity be? We’ve been excavating that place for fucking months now. Summer’s almost fucking over.” The demon groaned again.

“Maybe if you didn’t kill the fucking kid who knew better we could have had him tell us where to go.” He suggested.

“Yeah, sure, you think he’d remember exactly when and where he went exploring almost ten months ago, after he was in a hospital coma too?”

“Maybe, he did say he was an explorer right. Maybe he mapped out the place or made notes.”

“Well, maybe I just didn’t want to make your angel hunt too easy?” Azazel said, with a slight laugh.

Mephisto rolled his eyes. “Well then, why are you the one that’s more upset here?”

Azazel’s smile faded, having been caught, but it quickly reappeared when he realized he had been caught by Mephisto no less. “You got me. I must say, you’ve gotten quite cleverer compared to when you first got here. You still got that statuesque face-mug of yours but I almost see some cracks in the stone, you genuinely laughing or smiling sometimes. Like the other weekend at the bar, you actually seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

Mephisto looked on, somewhat concerned. Friendship wasn’t something he desired with any of the demons around, but Azazel and Belial had displayed nothing but patience with him since he’d arrived. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that becoming too friendly with Azazel was bound to end in tragedy for him.

I promised I’d kill you at the end of this. He took a second to reflect. But the end of this also means me being sent back down. Back to hell… back to Baphomet… back under his boot, forever.

“What can I say? This place has so many things to enjoy. The last god-knows how many hundreds, thousands, of years I spent in eternal torment. Even with you making me work constantly, I get shit like breaks or days off. There’s respite in this work. There’s joy to be found outside of it. People to see, things to learn, experiences to gather.” Mephisto nodded. “Its not entirely unpleasant at all, compared to how static hell was.”

Azazel nodded. His face lit up suddenly with an idea. “You know, if this all goes well, I can pull some strings. Keep you up top if you want?”

Now it was Mephistopheles’ turn for his face to light up. “You’d do that?”

“Why not? Belial’s kept me informed about you, you know? You’re an ace shot, that much even you know I’m sure.”

“Sometimes I still find myself amazed by things like guns. Back in my days people would kill goats with wooden clubs for food.” Mephisto chuckled.

Azazel also laughed. “See, you’re also fun to be around somewhat. Better than Baal for sure. But most of all, you’re quite smart. It didn’t take long for Belial to notice how easily your brain slurps up details and information like a sponge. That shit’s useful to me. You could be a very useful tactician, strategist, assassin, hell I could make you an accountant like Lav and have you falsify my taxes if you want to keep your hands clean.”

“Maybe I’ll pass on that one, math is still a bit difficult for me.”

“Heh. Okay, but!” Azazel paused, suddenly serious. He lifted his index finger between them with menacing intent. “This proposal is all assuming you DO catch that angel and send her back to Bapho’. If you fuck up somehow, or get cold feet. The deal is off.”

Mephistopheles stared at his boss, his mind racing with thoughts about this proposal, about his mission. He picked up a pen from the table, and started twiddling it in his fingers. His mission to find this being, this angel that he was so certain he had killed. Why? His determination to fulfill his task had kept him from contemplating it often, but now, in this moment of respite, new ideas and questions began to form. He was certain he had killed her, ages ago, but if so, why was she alive now? Why did she return now? And worst of all…

Why don’t I remember anything about her? He asked himself. I thought my memories were hazy after millenia in hell, but even now, with all the work of these past ten months, I don't feel any closer to finding out anything about her. Like this gaping hole in my mind… Not even a face… not even a name…

“I expect nothing less from an expert broker like you.” Mephisto said, his deep blue eyes staring at Azazel’s shining green.

“Alright don’t start with the ass-kissing just cause I'm being nice to you.”

“That was more of an insult, but take it as you will.” Mephisto smiled. “So what are we going to do about the angel then? We don’t even know if she’s still underground. Maybe she woke up, or maybe someone else found her and took her to some institution somewhere?”

“I wouldn’t worry, like I said, I own this city. If the government found any sign of her, I’d know. And if she really is missing… well I just need to find the coffin then I can track her.”

“How so?”

Azazel shifted in his seat, sitting up and leaning forward. Mephisto mimicked his motions, suddenly filled with intrigue. The demon stared right into his very core with his emerald eyes, then he spoke: “I got the hounds ready and waiting. All I need is the slightest scent of her and they’ll be able to find her.”

“Hounds?”

“I have wendigos, Mephisto! Three of them are ready to hunt as soon as I give the order.”

Mephisto stared blankly, unimpressed. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Really? I thought you’d know about them from hell. Did Belial not teach you about supernatural beings and monsters that lurk in the darker corners of our world? Beings that we often use for our nefarious deeds?”

“He did, but I don’t recall him mentioning those.”

“They’re these massive hulking behemoths, like a cross between man and wolf, twisted by hunger and sheer feral rage. They used to be quite a pain way back in the day, but clever demons have found ways to tame them, keep them complacent and control them. We’ve taken over and even started breeding them. We have close to five hundred adults in kennels out in the countryside, with more spread here and there for security, bodyguards, general pets for the freakier demons that know to keep them hidden.” Azazel said with a nod.

“And these things… are they good hunters?”

“Some of the best. Their sense of smell is impeccable, which is astounding considering they’re rotted, skeletal monsters. You find something of the angel, I guarantee my hounds will find her within a day.”

“This monster… I think I’ve heard of it, reminds me of something we used to call a kal… kali… khaliborh I think it was. The Black Hunger. Spawns of the Leviathan. I'm amazed its survived the test of time!”

“That name sounds familiar, yeah. I think over time, demons and humans started calling it something more pronounceable. The new name is based on some mythical creature that looks similar enough from some country I can’t recall.”

Mephisto sat in thought for a moment, processing this new information. “Let me guess, these monsters… you’re keeping them in reserve so they don’t draw attention from the humans right? From the Huntress especially?”

“Bingo.” Azazel smirked. “I see Belial didn’t skip on telling you about her, huh?”

“It was part of the overall lesson on humanity and our relationship to them. I don’t know though, why is she such a pain to you? In all my time I’ve been here, I never heard about her causing any trouble.” Mephisto asked.

Azazel was suddenly quiet, uncharacteristically so. With a sigh, he pointed at the phone on his desk. “You know why that fucker was so afraid to deliver southside? Because of her. Recently there were some stirrings that she’d been spotted in the area. A few dead demons reaffirmed my suspicions, though not fully, not yet. In truth, I’m not worried about her, but her presence has an annoying tendency to scare off my clients, and occasionally… how to say this… open up new job positions.” He said, adding quotes with his fingers at the last part.

“I don’t get it. Usually you treat humans beneath you. I get that she’s a demon hunter, but what makes her so dangerous?”

“This one’s special Mephy dear. This bitch isn’t just some dumbass that likes playing the hero and meddling with my business. No, her family has been hounding us for a long time, killing my men for generations. Even my wolves, the wendigos. I’ve seen them tear through a fully armored squad of soldiers like through butter, shrugging off gunfire and rifle bullets like nothing. But in the past six years, since she’s shown up, I’ve lost over twenty-fucking-five of them.”

Mephisto’s eyes widened. “Damn…”

“Yeah. Damn. This bitch isn’t to be fucked with. We have a lot of problems when it comes to her. Especially when I’m not one hundred percent certain she’s actually in this city yet.” Azazel shook his head. “Hard to plan around something that may or may not exist. I’ve never been able to get rid of her and her stupid family… they’re like weeds I swear.”

“Never thought the mighty Azazel would have problems with a mere family of human hunters…” Mephisto responded with a smirk.

Azazel shook his head, ignoring the attempted insult. “They’re descendants of Samson. Far from a normal human, don't you think so, Mephy?”

That name. A name full of glory, a name full of power and strength. A general atop his mighty steed, clad in dark armor lined with golden steel. Memories flashed through Mephisto’s mind like a dagger. His eyes went wide, and for but a moment, a voice seemed to call to him. It was gone, but the memory of the name lingered on.

“Samson? Samson fucking Devilsbane?” Mephisto shouted, almost screaming in surprise to both himself and Azazel.

“Any other famous Samsons I am not aware of?” Azazel said, looking at Mephisto incredulously. “I’m surprised you know him. Or did Belial tell you about him too?”

Mephisto was stuck. The memory of this man, why was it so familiar? The question gnawed at him, but he had to put it aside answerless. He couldn’t risk Azazel knowing. This was something too personal and dangerous to reveal. “Y-yeah, he told me about him and I did some research. Big demon hunter fella? I’m surprised he had a bloodline this long.”

Azazel stood up and began pacing around the room. He lingered in front of the window, resting against it. “Full-blooded demons like us are bound, somewhat, by the laws that govern this world. We aren’t originally of this physical world. Be it hell, the void, purgatory, where it may be, we come from elsewhere. You wouldn’t know, since you’re a powerless inanimaliat, but for someone like Belial, or even me, displays of our full demonic power can be… taxing. But a human is born of this world, they live it, they consume it, they expire within it. And a human with demon blood can channel the full power of that bloodline without pushing against the natural laws that crafted this world.”

“I didn’t know it was possible for demons to procreate with humans.”

Azazel burst into uncontrollable laughter. “You really fucking thought all demons were infertile or something? No, god no. Of course we can, but it takes more than fucking any old whore on the street corner to make a demonic halfbreed. No, no, if that was the case with how horny some demons are we’d have been exterminated millenia ago.” He chuckled some more, wiping some spit from his mouth. After a quick glance to see if Mephisto saw him, which he did, he turned and walked back to the couch. He didn’t sit on it, he just rested his arms on its back. “No, for a demon and human to have a child like that… it would take a bond of love so pure and so… dangerous. There’s also something else, some other sort of requirement that I honestly don’t know about. I haven’t been able to find out, and its not like I’ve done many experiments. I’m not saying its impossible, I’ve known demons that got executed for fathering a half-demon child after they got too close, but that was one case in over a thousand years.”

“So what about Samson then?” Mephisto asked.

“See, that's why they’re so dangerous. A half-demon human will always sire another half-demon. The blood doesn’t dilute, its not genetic like with humans. Well generally it doesn't, I can’t know for certain how powerful Samson was in his heyday. But I assure you, his descendant, this Huntress, her blood is very much still potent to this day.”

“You know that first hand? What exactly did you do that made her hate you so much?”

Azazel was quiet for a while, just staring off into space, not looking at Mephisto. “Hmm? Maybe another time then. It’s getting late, and I’ve made a decision.”

“About what?”

“The excavation is taking too long, simply exploring might not be working.” Azazel sighed, took out the cigarette from earlier, and attempted to light it again as he spoke. “So, I had Lav secure a deal with some outsiders and a few agents, some mining explosives, a couple fake work permits, and some more men. Should make things go faster.”

“Sounds fucking great.” Mephisto said with a nod. “You want me to go secure the deal or what?”

Azazel wheezed, barely holding back his laugh. “Ohohohoho! Well aren’t you fucking eager. Get one compliment suddenly you think you’re el capo or some shit? You’re a nobody remember. Not saying this as an insult, just, nobody knows who you are. These people don’t make deals with faceless people like you. No, you’ll be going with Belial, you’ll be his bodyguard. Consider this your official mission.”

“Yes sir. When is it?” He answered like an obedient soldier, holding back the harsh words he wanted to spit at Azazel.

“Four days.”

Mephistopheles got up ready to walk out and be done for the day. But his legs wobbled, and he felt like he was about to fall over right onto Azazel’s coffee table. His bones and muscles were weak, as if they’d begun to melt. He collapsed right back down on the couch, a cold sweat running down his face. “The hell?” He said out loud.

“You moron, how long has it been since you last slept, Mephy?” Azazel asked, as emotionless and robotic as a person can possibly ask such a question.

“About three days now… I think, I don’t remember why?”

“You’re no good to me half-dead. Here, I’ll extend my gratitude for your job well done so far even further. You’ve been a good soldier, but not just an obedient bootlicker. Go to your apartment, have a good long sleep, you’re free for four days. On the forth if you’re not waiting in front of the station before the sun’s up, I’ll make a new couch out of your skin, understood?” He replied trying to sound uninterested, but somehow failing.

“Thanks Azazel.” Mephistopheles said. For the first time his voice had a tinge of sincerity in it. As he turned to leave, he was hit square in the face by the office door as it swung open. He stumbled back, clutching his face to soothe the pain. Azazel laughing heartily at his misfortune made him wish he could take back all that sincerity, but all he could do was groan in pain and misery.

“OH GOD, I’M DYING!” Constantine screamed. He was laughing so hard his stomach felt like it was about to explode and tears streaming down his face. Similar joyful sounds and ecstatic laughter echoed throughout the apartment. Next to him on the couch sat Nikolai. Her right hand was covering her mouth as she too was laughing heartily. She was pressed up against him, slapping his knee to try and stop herself, but failing. Lastly, on the nearby armchair sat Evan. He was cackling like a maniac without any care or restraint.

The coffee table between them was littered with empty bags of chips, bowls of popcorn and peanuts, with some still half-full, beer cans, sodas and even a champagne bottle that had yet to be opened. Further back on Nikolai’s living room table were a few more empty snack bowls, and a stack of three plates and cutlery that were dirty with food.

“What the fuck is going on here?” The man on the tv shouted. Another character ran around the room before the screen, before the camera zoomed in on his face and froze. The movie then slowly faded to black and ending credits started rolling.

The trio was caught off guard by the sudden face, and they started laughing even harder. Constantine pounded his chest and coughed because he was almost running out of breath, Nikolai buried her face in his left thigh to quiet herself down, and Evan almost fell off his chair. Shortly after as the credits rolled by, the laughter died down and they began recomposing themselves. Evan was the first to get up, starting to clean up some of the trash and dirty utensils.

“My god, its been a long time since I laughed this hard.” He said, trying to calm himself by taking deep breaths. “I told you two lovebirds this was a good movie!”

“Oh yes, god I'm glad you made us watch this shit, it was bloody hilarious.” Nikolai replied. “Did you like it, Hani?”

Constantine was too busy drinking some refreshing water to answer, so Evan seized the opportunity and answered from the kitchen in a squeaky, high-pitched voice. “Yes honey it was so funny! I’m so glad you invited Evan on our fun night.” Nikolai answered his mockery by taking a few peanuts and pelting him through the doorway. “You bitch! I’m helping you clean!” He said through the giggles and chuckles.

“Whatever, its my apartment.” Nikolai shrugged, holding back a grin.

“Hey if you’re in the kitchen, can you bring some of those eclairs?” Constantine asked.

There was a lingering silence coming from the kitchen. “Fuck!” Evan said, breaking that silence.

“He forgot to buy them.” Constantine told Nikolai. “Isn’t that right, dumbass?”

“Fuck you, I… forgot.” Evan yelled back.

“Its alright, I can go buy some. My legs feel a little sore, so I'm gonna take a little walk. Holy shit its almost eleven o’clock.” Constantine exclaimed, checking his phone. “Okay, I’ll be fast, the store's gonna close soon.”

“You need money?” Nikolai asked, but Constantine was already out of earshot, putting on his shoes and coat. “Constantine, you need money?” She called out again, this time loud enough for him to hear.

“No no, I got some. Thanks. I’ll be back real quick. Don’t kill each other while I’m gone, yeah?”

“Don’t worry I’ll hide his body before you come back.” Nikolai said with a smirk. “Just kidding, just kidding, we won’t.” She added. The happy smile on her face remained as she sat for a moment, watching the door close behind him before she was smacked in the head by a peanut. “Gyah! You motherfucker! Come here!” She yelled as she jumped off the couch and rushed Evan.

Constantine walked somewhat slowly on the stony sidewalk. He was unfortunately too late to catch the closer eleven p.m. store, so he was now taking a longer route towards an all night convenience store. He didn’t mind walking some more, since it was such a warm night out. His hands were inside his turquoise jacket, and as he jumped a pot-hole, he found a small candybar stashed away.

Sweet! I forgot about this one. He thought before popping it in his mouth. As he chewed on it, he noticed two cars on the opposite side of the road. One was a long red ford and the other a humongous jeep. It appeared that a slight accident had occurred, the jeep had been rear-ended by the ford and now the angry drivers were in each other’s faces swearing and shouting and bickering. Watching the two go at it, he didn't notice the other two men in his path. Constantine bumped into one of them by mistake, knocking his cigarette out of his hand.

“Hey-hey! Watch where you’re going, dumbass.” He said, annoyed.

“Ugh, sorry, sorry...” Constantine said moving aside to let them pass. He checked his jacket to see if it’d been burnt, but luckily that wasn’t the case.

“This idiot owes me a cigarette…” The curly-haired man said to his partner as Constantine kept walking away at a quicker pace.

“Leave the kid alone, you smoke too much anyway.” His partner answered, and Constantine let out a sigh of relief.

He continued strolling along the sidewalk this time more careful on what was in front of him and less on what was happening around him. The store was close by, and he dipped inside and quickly rushed to the pastry section. Luckily for him, some of the workers were just restocking with night-time produce, so he was able to get a box of eclairs fresh off the shelves. After paying, he walked out of the store with an excited pep in his gait.

Taking a different street back to Nikolai’s, he reached a park. It was brightly lit and decorated with Halloween ornaments for tomorrow. He peered through the few winding paths that cut through the thick, dark forest and realized that they ended right near Nikolai’s neighborhood. Naturally once he recognized the park, he made his way through it. It was a park that he knew like his home. He had walked those paths countless times to get to school and to his sweetheart Nikolai.

I hope they don’t mind me taking so long. He thought to himself.

Suddenly, he reached a certain intersection that was in his way, one that he didn’t entirely recall. What was stranger still was when he noticed that a few trees were broken and torn and their branches were resting on the ground.

Curious, something crushed through here? What could possibly break a tree like this? He wondered, going through the small path that he found in between the dark and ruined oaks. Their looming shadows seemed to swallow him whole as he pushed through.

A few steps later, he heard something ahead and his blood became ice in his veins. Someone was crying, but something about that cry was strangely familiar. Constantine couldn’t move, couldn’t take another step, realizing what he was listening to. He felt cold and afraid, the warm night was gone and now he wished he had taken his warmer jacket instead.

He thought about turning back, afraid of what he might find but the quiet sobs got through to him. Whoever it was, he couldn’t just abandon them. The soft sobbing was a trembling, ethereal sound that echoed unnaturally in a terrifying, dreadful way. Yet despite that, Constantine felt like he had to help the sufferer somehow. It was not a choice in his mind, but an obligation.

What if its her? You saw she was hurt… you know you must help her. You know you have to Constantine. He said to himself, taking a deep breath. Grit your teeth and push forward…

After making his way through a few bushes and past some trees he found himself in a small clearing where he saw her. The same being that he found crying in his room the previous night. The same Angel was standing on a long abandoned bench under a worn out street lamp and weeping loudly. Small puddles of blood formed underneath her made of blood that was dripping from her hands.

Constantine couldn’t believe his eyes, but the reality was undeniable. The dim orange light shone down upon her pale azure hair and the giant silver wings were unmistakably those of the angel that made him question his sanity. But as he stared for a moment, something changed for him. He saw her crying softly and his heart yearned to save her. She looked so frail, so scared and alone. In his eyes, she was no longer an angel but just an ordinary person, an ordinary girl in need of help. Constantine couldn't just stand by and watch as someone was alone and in pain so he mustered up his courage and opened his mouth, calling out to her.

“A-are you alright?” He asked, carefully inching towards her. Rotten old leaves and twigs crunched under his feet, but she was not startled. The angel stopped crying, however she did not look up at him. She just stared at her bleeding arms.

“What is this feeling, this sting… this burning feeling…” She asked, her voice echoing unnaturally as she spoke. She turned to look at Constantine with her pale white eyes wiping away the tears from her face. “You… you’re the same person aren’t you? It seems fate has ordained that we meet once more.”

Constantine was afraid, yet at the same time, calm. It felt like a dream. A dream that cannot be understood and risks turning into a nightmare at any moment, yet it never does. It just lingers onward in an infinite moment of unyielding peace.

“Yes.” He finally said softly, remembering his voice. “I’m… Constantine. My name is Constantine, Constantine Sancthos. I-I live close by, let me help you. Let me bandage up your wounds or else it might get infected.” He said, reaching out his arm towards her. She pushed back, still uncertain and just as afraid as he was, so he stopped.

“That… those cuts.” He said.

“A beast… a nightmare, clawing after me…” She answered, her voice echoing in his mind. “What is this hurt…”

“Its pain. A feeling I’m all too familiar with. All of us are. I suppose you never felt that before?” Constantine asked, daring to inch closer with each word.

“No…” The angel answered. “I knew the touch of pain. The sweet touch, the aching touch that lingers, proof of life and love… I just couldn’t remember it… Yes, the word was pain!” Her eyes lit up, the memories of the past flooding back into the shadows of her mind.

Constantine sat down on the bench next to her, and with slow movements he took off his jacket. “Its cold out, may I?” He asked her.

“Constantine was it… that is such a pretty name…” She said. looking curiously at him. She nodded awkwardly at his proposal. Constantine thought for a second how he might put the jacket on her, her massive wings protruding from her shoulder blades and obstructing his path. He eventually placed it on her shoulders, letting it drape around her arms. “What a wonderful color… reminds me of the skies from home.”

“Is your home far from here?”

“I don’t know. I can’t really remember. The skies here are just as dark and cloudy, but not always. Sometimes the sky is… soft. The winds carry me through the air and I feel like like I'm dancing on the clouds.” At that moment, Constantine saw her smile. It was a gentle, delicate smile, like the first flowers of spring blooming after a stormy winter. He stared at her in awe and wonder, his mouth ajar.

“You’re so beautiful when you smile, you should smile more often.” Constantine said, cleaning up his gawking expression. He stood from the bench, and offered her a hand. “We should get going. The quicker we clean and dress those wounds, the better.”

The angel nodded, and carefully took his hand in her fingers and pulled herself up. Her skin was soft and flawless and as she rose from the bench, her wings rose and spread out with her. Constantine was once again astonished by their sheer length and size, but something else astounded him. He didn't notice it before, when he was so scared and uncertain, but now he could see her clearly and fully. The mesmerizing beauty of the girl in front of him was beyond words. Her white iris-less eyes, her long cerulean hair, and her dazzling smile were stunning, and Constantine had to tense his muscles to keep himself from fainting.

“Alright Constantine, I will accept your help if you want to offer it to me.” She said warmly. “But first, I have forgotten to introduce myself. My name is... Uriel Fladium, I am glad to make your acquaintance.”