"Oh,
now what?" Daimon said.
This
was definitely not the mansion at Fire Lake where Jane Cutter
and those lovely Hell-stained claws of hers were waiting for
him. This looked more like a tract of Hell. It wasn't his
Hell. He knew his plot of damnation like none other. The red
clay here stunk of dried flesh and burning rubber. He would
have changed that irritating smell as soon as he took office.
Daimon's
power increased in his realm. He felt no more powerful here
than he did when he was on Earth. It was nothing to sneeze at
but he was certain this was not his kingdom. There was something
else. There was a demon nearby. An old one by the smell of it.
A
thunderous slamming vibrated the dry, flaking ground behind
Daimon. He swung around, summoned his birthright abilities and
erected a force field. The dome of protection held against the
eldritch energies that washed over it like water around a river
rock.
The
flow of energy had only just stopped when Daimon released Hellfire
of his own in the direction of his attacker. When he decided
the target would be little more than cinders, he found he was
mistaken.
The
demon stood before him entirely intact except for the rags of
what might once have been a cloak.
"While
it was certainly your turn, I've yet to find a demon that will
burn," the yellow-skinned demon said.
"Hell
help me, a rhymer," Daimon said.
"You
seem to know your demons well. Your little spell and smell tells
me that you too are no stranger to Hell."
"Asmod's
balls, demon, shut up." Daimon’s eyes crackled with electricity.
Lightning forked from the sky blasting the demon from where
he stood.
"Now
that that's ironed out it's time for whiskey and-"
Daimon again triggered the transdimensional Hellway.
When
the fires dispersed Daimon found that he had not moved.
"-
a cigarette?" Daimon looked around himself. "Very
irritating."
Etrigan
sat up bursting with laughter that sounded more like barking.
He leapt to his feet, took three steps and jumped into the air.
He would land directly on Daimon. The Son of Satan did not move
but watched the demon's ascent.
The
demon struck the invisible barrier surrounding Daimon and crashed
face first to the ground. He shook his head, blinked his blood
red eyes and growled at Daimon.
"Fire
and lightning, thy tricks are many to be sure. A shame you won’t
battle in a manner more pure.”
"I
don't do the fisticuffs thing, demon. I'm not some bar room
brawler. I'm a king."
Daimon
scanned his surroundings as he spoke, not once looking at Etrigan.
"You
cannot kill me and I cannot reach you. What are we to do? We
are trapped here we two."
"You
high level demons heal far too quickly. Were this my realm I'd
just order you to immolate yourself and be done with it. I'm
guessing as you're not from my Hell that won't work."
Etrigan
grinned wide.
"Have
you tried to leave this realm yet?"
"When
first I did arrive, on that you can bet."
This
has never happened to me before,
Damien thought. The Hellway has always been open. Where is
this place? It stinks of Hell but it isn't mine and I don't
think it’s the demon's either. Neither of us seem able to escape.
Is it a trap for the Hellbound? How did our travels cross paths?
What
was different about the dimensional walk this time?
That
black cloud! Damn it.
How
does one escape from Hell, indeed.
Might
it be that this form is trapped because it was born in Hell’s
bowels? Someone cast the spells which nets that which is foul.
Maybe one of us is not trapped like a rat. To save his skin,
and mine, he will act!
Etrigan
folded his arms and maintained a firm glare on the King of Hell
and stepped within himself. He fell back, deep down, to where
his prisoner-keeper waited.
"Jason
Blood, we are hexed. Admittedly, I am most vexed."
"Something
that can't be burned away, blown up or consumed?" Blood
said sitting on the rocky landscape of Etrigan's subconscious.
Impatiently,
Etrigan explained the situation to Blood.
"You
think that by switching back, we could cross the barrier? I
need my books to cross the Hellway. I don't see them around
anywhere." Blood pretended to look around.
"If
we are to be transported away, this king of Hell’s view you
must sway."
"Why
on Earth would he send me back?"
"Because
once you’ve returned and your feet firmly planted, advise you
shall then summon him and his wish is granted. He has no choice
but to send you back if he has any chance to get back to his
tract. Once on Earth summon me instead, we can forget that fool
He’ll be good as dead," Etrigan grinned.
"First,
he won't trust me to summon him. Second, I am in no way going
to call a major devil to Earth. Who knows what he might do to
me just for fun. Remember, if I die, so do you."
"Must
Jason always travel the safest road? This demon trusts you to
carry the load. Strong as I am for all to see, never would I
allow harm to befall... me."
“Etrigan,
no! I won’t--”
The
demon was gone.
"Gone,
Gone O' Etrigan. Rise again in form of man!" Etrigan said.
"What?"
Daimon said.
The
red clad, yellow skinned demon shrank then disappeared. A skinny
human wearing a black suit stood where the demon had been. He
ran his fingers through auburn hair where a pure white streak
ran from front to back.
"Hello,"
Jason Blood said with a sigh.
"What's
this then?" the man wearing a black duster and cowboy boots
said.
"My
name is Jason Blood. I'm a doctor of the occult and I have a
proposition for you."
"This
should be interesting."
"Do
you have a name or do I just call you your majesty?"
"Daimon
Hellstorm." He lit a cigarette. His mane of red hair cascaded
around his face.
"Etrigan
and I think we've found a way out of this Hell-trap.”
"Someone
bound you to a prince of Hell? I salute him. That's hilarious.
Obviously not for you though," Hellstorm said trailing
smoke from his nose.
"I'm
not from Hell like you two. I can leave, just not under my own
power."
Daimon
said nothing. He took a long drag from his cigarette.
"If
you were to-"
"-put
you on the Hellway you could escape. Leaving me here, Etrigan
has a high opinion of my sense of charity."
"On
Earth I’ll cast a summoning spell. Your magic wouldn't
be moving you. I think it would work." The heat baked Jason
mercilessly. He retrieved a red handkerchief from his pocket
and wiped his brow. I won't be able to last long here,
he thought.
"Unless
you have a better idea we're going to be here for a very long
time. I don't think you want Etrigan for company any more than
I do."
Daimon
paused, flipped his waist-length hair over his shoulder and
flicked his cigarette butt. His eyes locked on Jason's. The
intensity was that of royalty in the presence of a scared commoner.
Jason felt every bit of the loathing.
This
is dangerous, Jason
thought. It will make an enemy of a powerful devil if he
goes for it. Strange I've never heard of a Hellstorm. He doesn’t
stink of Hell like he should. He seems rather human. Extraordinarily
powerful but almost mortal.
"This
place bores and I hate to be bored. Come to me, Jason Blood."
Jason
hesitated before stepping within arm's reach of the king of
a Hell he knew nothing about. I'm trusting a demon and a
devil with my survival.
A
whirlwind of flames surrounded them.
"Do
I need to threaten you with what will happen if you cross me?"
Daimon said, his breath hot and stinking of cigarettes.
Jason
arched a brow. He tried to speak but the ripping fire stole
his breath away.
"Nothing
like a bit of insurance just to make certain though. You know
how demons are about keeping their word.” Daimon moved his hands
in a pattern Daimon didn’t recognize and cast a spell, “It will
likely hurt."
The
sensation of being disemboweled wracked Jason and then he disappeared.
"What
is this that transpires? I’ll roast Blood in Hellfire!"
Etrigan said once he was strong enough to stand.
He
was still in the fiery limbo.
"I
took the liberty of separating you and your fleshy prison before
I sent him back," Daimon said tilting his head.
Etrigan
couldn't stand straight. What were once powerful, clawed hands
were manifesting spots and wrinkles. The demon’s muscle mass
was deteriorating. Etrigan felt his breathing grow painful.
"It's
a very old spell. Not a simple one but as a King of Hell it’s
well within my ability. I see the years are catching up. Somehow
I thought they might."
"Jason
dies too!... We will share the same fate, fool!"
"Not
if he keeps his word. I know you told him to forget about me,
Etrigan, is it? Prince of Hell or not, you have the IQ of most
of your species."
Etrigan's
legs could no longer support his weight. He collapsed on all
fours.
"...
should the mortal fall... before he can call..."
"You
don't give him enough credit. Of course, he might decide all
three of us can rot. The universe would be a better place and
all that in which case we're all headed for some unpleasantness."
"Damn
you, Blood..." Etrigan winced as his body failed.
Daimon
Hellstorm disappeared in a flash of fire and brimstone.
"Normally
I make lampshades out of those that summon me but I think I'll
make an exception this time," Daimon said squatting down
in front of an aged and decrepit Jason Blood.
Jason
managed a croak. Daimon looked around the surrounding New York
scenery, inhaled deeply and spat on the sidewalk. A crowd was
beginning to gather. Daimon raised a wall of flame around himself
and Jason. The king of Hell clapped his hands and spoke in a
language Jason recognized as ancient Babylonian. Etrigan spilled
out from a searing ball of lightning to the ground.
Jason
lay face to face with his tormentor. He had only been in the
demon's presence a few times. Had Jason never shared the same
air as the demon again in his long life, he would have been
content.
"You
kept your word, Jason. I intend to keep mine.” Daimon asked
and stood up. “Is that what you want?"
Jason's
voice failed him. He couldn't draw enough breath. The occultist
looked up at Daimon inquiringly.
"I
can leave you two separate and you will both die," Daimon
said hunting for his pack of cigarettes.
Etrigan
slammed a fist into the pavement. Green froth spilled from his
growling mouth. Jason smiled at seeing the demon so frustrated
and suffering. Was that what he wanted? A final end to
it all? He would miss his friends and the simple pleasures that
got him through the thousand years of torment. It would also
get rid of Etrigan. There might be peace. Haven't I earned
it? thought Jason.
"Not
a lot of time." Daimon lit his cigarette with a black Zippo.
"Put...
us... back..." Jason drooled and his head dropped to the
cracked cement.
"From
demon's Hell o' Etrigan, once more be bound in form of man,"
Daimon said.
Human
and demon drew together and with a blast of thunder and fire
were merged into one body. Jason rose to his feet. He knocked
the dust from his suit and examined his restored body. The lead
weight in his gut had also returned.
"Before
I go, and go I must as something about your dimension irritates
me, why would you chose life with that discharge instead of
death?"
"I'm
his keeper. He's immortal. If I died he would just be reborn
in Hell. I wouldn't be around to control him though. Etrigan
is too dangerous to be allowed to run free."
"Nobility
bores me." Daimon cast his cigarette butt at Jason's feet
and disappeared in a blast of fire and black smoke.
The
wall of flames disappeared with the displaced king of Hell.
Jason found himself surrounded by a crowd of curious onlookers.
I
don't think I could stand a more interesting life, Jason thought and entered the crowd.
THE
END
AUTHOR’S
NOTES
I’d
like to thank Dave for letting me play in his event. I won’t
say that I found it easy writing these two Hellish fellows (and
it was my idea) but they are favorites of mine.
Much
thanks to my wife Cathy and Dave G. for helping me hammer out
this bit when I was hitting wall after wall.
-C.
William Russette 2008
