Dancing In The Void

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you, Mephy.” Evan said with a sparkle of hope and relief in his eyes.

Mephisto smiled back with surprise. He let out a small chuckle followed by a quick tap of his shoe. “Really? I'm surprised to hear that.“ He said with a smirk.

“What do you mean by that?” Evan asked, walking closer to the bars and grabbing one with his hand.

Mephisto did not reply. He just laughed quietly to himself while pacing around the corridor. Evan got a good look at him. He was wearing a completely different get up from what he remembered him having. He wore a long black overcoat that was buttoned up and covered most of his body. Underneath it, Evan spotted the hint of a simple white shirt and a tie loosely draped under his collar. Mephisto’s hands were adorned by a pair of black matte gloves which contrasted his bright white dress shoes.

The most striking feature however was Mephisto’s face. His familiar slightly-tanned skin was somehow especially translucent in the low light, his beard shaved clean off, and his long black hair was combed and slicked back. Most different of all however, was the gaze in his light blue eyes. Evan was shaken by that stare. This was not the same Mephisto he knew. As if he caught on to his realization, Mephisto took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He took a deep puff and blew the smoke straight into Evan’s face.

“I knew you were a smart guy. Didn’t expect you to take that long to figure out what’s going on here.”

“Mephisto.” Evan interrupted with a deathly serious tone in his voice. “Please. Tell me I’m wrong in my assumption.”

“You’re not wrong, Evan.” Came Wrath’s voice, softly, from the other side of the room. Both men turned to her, Mephisto almost relieved to hear her voice. There was a dark shadow over her face from her crimson hair

“I was beginning to worry about how quiet you were being there Wrath. Enjoying the demonic seals? I helped make these Ishtariol.” He said, taking another puff from his cigarette. Being met with silence from both prisoners he made a quick-turn to Evan. “Locked, sealed, or watched... depending on your interpretation. Yeah these bad boys let Baal and I know anything that's going on in there.”

“Thanks for the lesson.” Evan scoffed.

He then turned back to Wrath and ran his small finger over one of her prison bars, careful not to touch the blood. “You know, Azazel talked about you quite a few times Wrath. He was thinking of employing services earlier than he did, but I convinced him against it. I thought catching Uriel would be a simple task. That was before I knew... He also taught me some things about you, and other powerful beings out there. I would highly advise against trying to break through the seals Wrath. You’re only going to hurt yourself.”

Wrath stepped forward, ready to strike before the tension of her chains held her back. “You don’t know a thing about hurting. But believe me you will once I’m through with you. How could you, you motherfucker… I trusted you.” Her words spat out with hateful poison.

Mephisto was silent. He averted his gaze from both of them before changing the subject.

“You know, speaking of Azazel, he sure loved his cigarettes.” he said, raising his hand and showing off the item in his hand. “At first I couldn’t stand the smoke, reminded me too much of my flaming pit down in Baphomet’s kennels. But I gave it a try and turns out to not be so bad after all.”

Evan just slammed his palm against the bars causing a loud metal clang to echo throughout the room.

“Why?” He said with a heavy breath and anger boiling in his eyes. “Why would you betray us like this? You saved my life, all our lives. For what, for this?”

Mephisto just stepped back this time, but continued avoiding the question. Evan’s eyes peered into his, and he couldn’t discern any emotion.

“You trying to lose that arm too Evan? Hmmm. Baal... will drop by later, personally, with some of his underlings. He’s going to ask you both some questions, I recommend not trying to put up too much resistance, for your sake Evan.”

“Why aren’t you answering my question you soulless fuck?” He shouted while punching the bars once more. A sharp pain shot through his torso, knocking the air out of him and causing him to collapse on his knees.

“Evan!” Wrath screamed followed by the rattling of her chains being pulled to their maximum.

“There’s no answer good enough that you would understand little one.” Mephisto said with a sigh.

With that, he turned to leave, but not before putting out his cigarette against Evan’s bars, and tossing the half-smoked butt inside.

Evan instinctively watched as it rolled a bit on the floor of his cage before his body buckled under him and he fell on his side. The stinging tears of betrayal poured down his cheeks.

No answer good enough... You coward. You fucking bastard… we all trusted you.

Carefully, his hand reached to the bars and he pulled himself up, fighting through the pain. He sat on the cold ground, facing away from Wrath and staring at the dark walls of his cell. He did not want her to see him cry.

I trusted you...

It was all too much to bear. Everything that had happened since the day he first saw Uriel was taking its toll on him, and the price was steep. He looked at the bandages on his stump and was reminded of what he truly was. Just a kid pretending to be the hero.

A murderer. He scolded himself, remembering the auction.

I thought I was ready. Like an idiot, I thought I could save them both, Nikolai and Uriel. And for my arrogance I paid with an innocent person’s life and an arm.

The memory of Nikolai made him remember how they were before this new world engulfed all three of them. He hoped both her and Constantine were safe, and that perhaps one day they would be together as friends again. Slowly, the dull aching faded, and so did his tears, but the sorrow they brought remained. His gaze trailed downwards as he wiped his face, and fixed upon the cigarette Mephisto had thrown. He felt compelled to kick it away, but his sharp eye caught something. A little black smidge was fading in through the white paper.

Curious… He thought, reaching to pick it up. Upon further inspection, all doubt faded away. There was something written on the inside of the cigarette. Carefully, he peeled it open, letting the tobacco inside fall out.

“Playing the part. I can’t help for now. Do NOT try to let Wrath know. Remember, Ishtariol.”

Evan's emotions went through a hundred different variations of anger and disbelief after reading, but in the end, he couldn’t help but crack a sly smile.

You sly fucking bastard.

Uriel’s dreams haven’t been peaceful for the longest time. Always filled with a constant dread, a constant feeling of impending doom. The dark shadows creeping up on her from every corner of her mind. These faceless phantoms, stalking her endlessly, whatever could they want from her?

No… Uriel thought. This is not some outside force… this is the deep of my mind…

She turned to face them and they vanished. Uriel was alone, floating on the edge of an endless silver lake.

Baphomet was right, if I was stronger Gausville wouldn’t have been destroyed. Countless innocent lives could have been saved. But I’m just a pathetic excuse for an angel. Their blood is on my hands... I barely managed to save Constantine and myself from certain death.

“Do not let yourself fall prey to the fear of weakness, little angel.” An old whispery voice called out. “There is power within you that you do not yet realise.”

Uriel snapped back at the voice, and in that moment she found herself in a quaint forest, surrounded by trees. The old man stood before her, draped in a massive gray robe. His face was covered by ancient bandages with a long, thick, stringy beard that reached close to the ground. He leaned forward on a thick walking stick with a hunch.

“You again!” Uriel began. “Why is it I can never have a peaceful dream after something horrible happens to me? You fiends can’t ever give me peace.”

“Ah, I must apologize, sweet girl.” The patron said. “You appeared distressed, and I thought you needed assistance. I shall take my leave if you so desire.”

“No…” Uriel said, shaking her head and plopping down against the roots of an old willow. “Sorry… I shouldn’t have... don’t go actually please.”

The two sat unmoving in tranquil peace for a short while before Uriel began talking once more.

“You say I shouldn’t fall prey to the fear of weakness, but weren’t you the one that warned me that if I don’t accept my power I won't be able to save them all? Well look at me, I accepted that power and I still lost. I almost died, because I wasn’t strong enough to fight either of them.”

The man slowly tilted his head to the side before reaching up to the sky with a ghastly, almost skeletal hand. “And yet, you did not. You opened your heart to the light of the moon and in return, you were able to save yourself and your friend.”

“And thousands died still! How is that victory?” She shouted, jumping to her feet. Her wings unfurled and brimmed with rage. “I condemned everyone in the city, everyone on the train, everyone in the train station and the way there. Because of what? Why… why do they all want me dead so much…” Uriel said, tears streaming down her face.

The man was quiet, stepping forward to her. “Because of Death.” He began. “Lady Death has latched onto your soul since before you were even born. For eons she has searched for someone worthy of her eminence, and by God, she wants you to be afraid, Uriel. She wants you to fear, to fall, and accept her grace.”

Uriel wiped her face with an arm and stared at the old man with worry. “And Baphomet? Does he want to kill me to prevent that?”

The man sighed. “Not… entirely. His grudge with you is also a lot more personal. Will you allow me to tell you a story?” He asked.

Uriel nodded. The old man tapped his stick on the ground and a throne of branches grew rapidly from the ground under him. He slowly sat down. Uriel watched him with a slight pout, annoyed about having to stand, but then she noticed that a similar seat formed behind her.

Strangely comfortable. She thought as she sat down as well. Thanks.

“Baphomet was once an emperor priest, back in millenia long forgotten. A worshiper of the Ancient Progenitor God.” The old man began. ”A strict and harsh religion, in an even stricter and harsher empire. Baphomet’s power was great, and his empire encompassed the earth itself. Billions worshiped him, lest their blood would be used as fuel for his endless religious conquest.”

He paused for a brief moment, before continuing. “But time proved to be his enemy. As age slowly engulfed him, so did fear. Fear of losing his empire, his people, his power. For decades, he pleaded the heavens themselves for an heir, begging for someone to carry on his legacy and preserve what he had created. They refused him. Enraged, Baphomet forsook his own God, and conjured a ritual unlike any other that came before or since. He sacrificed untold legions of men, women and creatures that walked the earth over the course of fifteen years in this profane ritual. All so he can bring down a queen from the forsaken stars by force. An angel.”

“My mother.” Uriel said somberly.

“Yes. It was your mother, Camael. Daughter-princess of the moon. She had been unwillingly and undeservingly cast down from heaven by what was then, just a man.”

Uriel looked away, deep in thought over the mother she never met. She turned up to the sky. It was bright, and few clouds could be seen. The nature of the connection she held with the moon was a realization that passed through her body like electricity.

“But alas, Baphomet’s ritual was cursed. You see, your mother’s divine majesty was not meant to exist on the mortal plane. Her state, her form, was beyond that of any earthly being. Beyond the comprehension of a powerful mortal man like Baphomet. He was unable to even gaze upon her. His mind was unraveling before the sight of her. Nothing but fear, nothing but chaos, nothing but agony engulfed him and the millions that witnessed her glory. He slew her with his sword where she stood, believing it to be mercy.”

Uriel’s eyes went wide. She looked at the old man with a horrified look on her face. “All that sacrifice, all that death... He committed such a heinous act of tearing her down from heaven, just for him to kill her immediately?”

“The fury of the heavens transcended description. Such a dreadful sin could not be forgiven.” The old man continued. ”The moon crashed down upon the earth, razing Baphomet’s empire to the ground, and him with it. Countless lives were condemned, and mercilessly slain under the annihilation. For his transgression, heaven ripped Baphomet and his empire of dust from the mantle of the earth and created the deepest pit of condemned souls we now know as Hell. Baphomet became a great archdemon, a Silence among The Thirteen.” The old man said, his whispery voice echoing with a deathly tone. “To answer your question: Unfortunately, it was too late for Camael. Baphomet was the one to slay her, and with that, he had dominion over her soul, dragging her down with him and making her his queen. He had succeeded.”

“Khh…” Uriel hung her head, sucking air through her teeth.

The old man groaned, leaning forward slightly before continuing once again. “But Camael never accepted being Baphomet’s queen. She hated him for what he had done to her, a hatred so immense that its flame couldn’t be matched by any that heaven nor hell could muster. And so, she fled. Countless eons later she managed to escape hell, and made her way back to earth. There, she lived a peaceful, hidden life as Queen Camael of Ur-Iktamun. In time, Baphomet was able to break through as well and find her. However, before he could kill her once again, she had fallen in love with the man called Mephistopheles and had you. Mephistopheles saved your mother’s soul by abandoning his own, and killing her with his own blade. In the end, he denied Baphomet true victory, and as punishment, he was condemned to eternal torment. For that, he considers you an abomination, a sin against creation itself. In your death, Baphomet wants to grant you mercy, and take back what he was denied.”

Uriel stood up slowly and turned away. She did not want the old man to see her cry, but her sobbing gave it away. It was an exorbitant amount to take in, and her mind raced with questions and thoughts, but all that she could muster to do was sob quietly.

“My apologies, I got carried away there.” He sighed looking away from her. “I don’t have the opportunity to share stories often. I’ve forgotten how to narrate them properly.”

“Why did you tell me this?” She asked.

“As a warning perhaps, but in truth, I believed you might have wanted some answers. About yourself, and your heritage, and those who seek to harm you.”

Uriel stood quietly for a few minutes, wrapped in her wings. “Thank you.” She said “You’re right. I am glad to know more about myself. Your story makes the grand question about what I am truly a bit more… clear. “ She looked down at the wrist and ran a cold finger over her veins. “The question about this demon and angel blood that flows through me.”

I wonder then, is this blood the reason why Lady Death protected me then? Is this what she wants from me as well?

“I’m afraid, even my knowledge is limited.” He said, with Uriel curious if he was answering the question she thought but did not ask. “I am only a mere observer. I am forbidden by an elder pact between myself and Lady Death to interfere with the mortal world. But Death has already stretched the limitations of this pact, she seeks to break it completely by using you. Through her plans, through her pawns, and through her machinations she will break you, and by extension, it. I’ve allowed her too much freedom in the past, that was my mistake.”

“You sure enjoy reading people’s minds, hah.” Uriel laughed, but then her expression changed to one of seriousness. “A pact between you and Death? What are you old man? Do you even have a name?”

The old man seemed deathly silent at her question. He sluggishly turned towards a small leaf that grew out of his throne, and he plucked it, rotating it between his fingers. Before Uriel’s eyes, the leaf floated down into his palm, where it transformed. It became a small hummingbird made of transparent, almost water-like glass that flew over and perched itself on the tip of her wing. The little bird stared back at Uriel with beady emerald-like jewels before it flew up high into the sky, beyond the clouds.

“I am Death’s antithesis: Life. Esteemed sculptor of creation. I am the Eye of God, watcher of all that is and is not. As for names, well I’ve had many of them, evil hates all of them… Saturnus was one I was particularly fond of.”

“Saturnus… You're... God?” Uriel asked, peeling her eyes from the sky.

“No. I am infinitesimal in comparison. I am merely a servant. True God is in heaven, his corpse lies rotting across the crown of eternity.”

A chill passed through Uriel upon hearing his words. A terrifying thought about the prospect of what true divinity could be, and what being would be powerful enough to slay it.

“You seem scared Uriel, I hope I do not frighten you, or perhaps are my words too ominous?” The man asked, the tone in his voice becoming a little more light and cheery, despite how decrepit it sounded.

“I’m… always scared, Old Man. There’s always dark whispers in my mind, slowly drifting by. I have to admit you kind of freaked me out even more. I just… don't know what to do… keep running and running and… and then what?”

“Perhaps, you need not worry about the ‘then what’ but instead, worry about the moment you live in right now?” He said, rising from his seat and walking close to her. “Your friends are lost, Uriel. And I do not refer to just those that are currently not with you, but all, even those you’ve just met. You must be the one to bring them out into the light. You will endure whatever hardships may come still. You and I both know and believe this.”

A powerful beating of wings could be heard, and a shadow passed overhead. Uriel’s eyes sparkled with shock and awe at the sight of the glorious beast that flew above them. The little hummingbird had turned into a gigantic phoenix of molten glass burning with splendid light. It cawed with a magnificent cry that inspired Uriel with hope and jubilation.

“The power of the void, of evil, and of death are great. But there is an everlasting power in the purity of life, of good, and in you that cannot be touched unless permitted. Remember that, and don’t let the monsters in.”

“W-wait! Old man-!” Uriel began but was interrupted, as the ground began dissipating before her.

“I know you still have many questions, but our time for now is ended. Burn bright, little angel.” He said as he turned to leave, but stopped midway. “Oh and Death is not the only one that can bend the rules, at least a little, haha.” He laughed. “You’ve exerted yourself greatly, so I took the liberty of granting you a slightly speedier, healthier recovery. Till we meet again.” As he finished talking, the flaming bird soared through the air and crashed down upon Uriel in a fiery explosion. She shouted not in pain, but in sudden fear.

Uriel found herself in a strangely dark room that was pestered by a constant mechanical beeping. She was laying in a white bed, with tubes and wires attached to her arms and body. To her right was a wall of foggy glass that she could not see through as well as some cabinets and chairs.

The beeping seemed connected to the beating of my heart. Uriel realized upon closer inspection of the machine next to her.

“Ge-rherhm.” Came a sudden cough that caused her to snap to the other direction. A little kid was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. He appeared terrified. “Y-you scared me.” He said with a quiet yet high-pitched voice.

“What did I do?” She asked, the echo in her voice betraying her confusion.

“You shouted and jumped from your bed.” The little boy replied.

“Haa… Sorry about that I uh… had an odd dream.” She said, embarrassed.

“A nightmare?”

“Not actually, it was… complicated.” She said as she leaned back down in her bed. She noticed that her wings were bandaged and attached to some suspending wires that held them in a certain position. This led her to noticing that large portions of her body were in casts, bandages or patches as well. “I look like a mummy… What’s your name?”

“Jacob.” He said getting up and moving towards the seat that was closer to the bed. “Dad says no one’s supposed to come in here except doctors, but I like to sneak in and do my homework here.”

Explains the turned off lights.

“Hehe… what’s so pleasant about a dark room like this?” She giggled.

“Y-you’re an angel! Just like in the stories mom would tell me. I heard dad talk about you and I needed to see it for myself. This room is also nice and quiet. Outside people are always so scared and worried.”

Uriel turned to the window and looked with worry painted on her face.

“Also…” Jacob continued. “Dad didn’t tell me much, but I heard him talk about how you saved us on the train… s-so I wanted to thank you, with this!” He cheerfully told her, while reaching in his pocket and pulling out a small paper flower coloured with markers. “Sorry its so squished… I made it a while ago but you just kept sleeping so…”

Uriel smiled softly, moving the flower between her fingers and being filled with warmth and gentleness. “Thank you Jacob… this is quite pretty, I shall cherish this.”

“I wanted to get you some real ones but we couldn’t find some anywhere.”

“That’s alright, I like this one more. Your dad was on the train you say? Are you Sean’s child?”

“Urh… yeh.” He said bluntly.

“I see… how long have I been asleep for? Do you know?”

“A couple weeks and some days. Can’t remember. People didn’t think you were gonna wake up at first, your skin was so dark and cracked, like when I dropped a vase and my mom got upset. But I knew you would. Angels are supposed to be all-powerful right?”

Uriel stared at the young kid dumbfounded. His innocence made her question herself. She could not help but smile and observe the boy further. He was wearing a baggy red sweater that was slightly too big for him along with some simple black jeans that had a tear in their left knee. He wore a matching red and black cap that covered his messy brown tufts of hair. His soft, baby-like face stood in opposition to the gnarly scar that he had on his right cheek running down to his chin.

Poor child. If that’s because of the hell I’ve unleashed I'm truly sorry.

“So...“ Uriel began, trying to change the subject. “Where did you learn to make this? Its very good for someone so young!”

“Thanks, I’m nine years old! And... my mom taught me before she...“ He replied, almost immediately getting teary-eyed.

“I’m sorry little one, my mom is not around anymore either...”

“Yeaaah, but you’ll see her again when you go back to heaven right?!” He asked enthusiastically, his tone changing in a heartbeat.

“Of course! And so will you eventually!” Uriel said.

“Yeah…” Jacob shot her a confused, awkward glance. “But hopefully not too soon! Dad says we’ll see her again as well... Hey, how old are you, Angel?”

“I uh… don’t know exactly? And you can call me Uriel. I grew up in a place where time was different than here. I think I was born thousands of years ago on earth, but I remember spending only a few hundred years in that other place…” Her voice trailed off.

The two talked for a little while about themselves, enjoying each other’s company. Uriel learned so much about Jacob in that small time frame, what he had for breakfast and lunch that day, his favorite TV show, his favorite character in that show, where he went to school, the names of every single one of his classmates, and what their favorite color was.

“I can’t wait to see them again when we can go back home.” He said with a tinge of sadness in his voice. Uriel could only frown silently back.

“There you are, you little devil!” Boomed a voice as the door on the far side of the room swung open. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Didn’t I say to let me know when you run o-…” Sean’s voice trailed on as he moved closer. “...-ff”

“Hey dad, look she’s awake!” Jacob shouted back excitedly. Uriel waved shyly back at Sean and gave him a gentle smile.

“I see that Jake… didn’t expect you to be up so soon. Everyone was so worried about you. You had no reaction to any medicine the doctors tried. Your skin was so unnaturally dark, broken and translucent, like you were not really there. We even called what few priests we could find to say some prayers. I guess that might have helped, given how the next day you started showing some improvement, but not much. We all thought it would be another few weeks at best before you woke up.”

“I’ve had some… help.” Uriel responded solemnly.

“That’s great! Constantine will be happy to see you. He’s been up for a while now.” Sean chuckled to himself leaning over the bed’s guardrail. “That guy, as soon as he became conscious again security had to strap him to the bed cause he wouldn't accept sitting down and resting. Even though he has four broken bones and three cracked ribs.”

Uriel did not catch herself grinning from ear to ear. “Is he doing ok now?”

“Oh he’s doing great, yes, he’s a hardy man. We’re still keeping him in bed but he's not in any danger anymore.” He coughed.

“Where are we, if I may ask? Are we still in Gausville?”

“We're currently in an underground hospital about three hours drive from the city. Old facility that belonged to some unrelated demon-hunter groups. I guarantee you very few people are aware of your existence here. I’ve taken great precautions.”

“Thank you Sean, for that, and everything else.” Uriel sincerely replied. “We would be dead without your help.”

“Well… so would we.” Sean said with a grim tone in his voice. His eyes suddenly went wide. “I just remembered, me and some of the boys made you an awesome prosthetic for your leg. Can’t wait to show you, would you like to try it out?”

Mephistopheles rushed through the brightly lit corridor with determination in his steps. His gaze reached out, and everyone he encountered was weary of him. He was infamous in hell, and this notoriety was something even most demons under Baal were aware of. They graciously, or perhaps, fearfully, moved out of his way as he passed. All, from massive hulking armored men, packed in demon-inscribed runes and seals, to the slick devils in suits that talked away on their phones, made sure to courteously nod and let Mephisto pass.

Under Azazel, Mephisto was merely a lackey that no one knew. Here, he was Baal’s second-in-command. And Mephisto was planning to use every ounce of his authority to acquire the information he desperately needed, and rescue his friends in the process.

Why would he want to meet now? He thought as he walked up an endless flight of stairs. He couldn’t have noticed anything, I took the utmost precautions.

Finally making his way to the ground floor, he walked out and after a couple more turns he found himself in a massive wide hallway. There, a pair of guards motioned towards him, opening the doors to the outside. He nodded as he walked past them and saw Baal standing in the middle of a relatively open field. Bodyguards positioned strategically around him, stretching all the way to the chain link fence on the right side of the compound. The same types of hulking behemoths that Mephisto saw running past him underground. He recognized the pale silver masks they wore, the jagged design and prickly protrusions on them was unmistakable. These were the same force that attacked him and everyone else the day of the eclipse in Katherine’s forest. What demented experiments and rituals had been performed on them however, he hoped not to find out.

Behind Baal however, was something that made a chill go down Mephisto’s back. Dozens upon dozens of men, women, and children wearing the same orange suits and with bags over their heads sat cuffed, row after row after row on the cold concrete ground. Guards patrolled between the lines, brandishing their rifles and weapons and barking orders at those who dared squeak.

“Mephisto!” Baal began cheerfully, his sleazy blond locks fluttering in his face from the wind. “I almost thought you got lost. What were you doing?”

“Its quite a large prison yes. Warning the prisoners.” Mephisto responded calmly.

“Were you now?” Baal asked, drawing out the last vowel of his sentence.

“Don’t act dumb Baal, you know sheep freak out if they see the wolf immediately. I was making sure they wouldn’t fight back when you start playing with them.”

“Hmmph. I suppose.”

“What’s with the crowd?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. I’m still lingering on the thought of you warning the prisoners.” Baal said, smacking his lips and pacing around Mephisto.

“You still don’t trust me?” Mephisto said, irritated. “After what I’ve done, and have been doing to help you get in your current position? I handed you Azazel and Belial on a silver platter, now I got you his guard dog Wrath and a safety pin on her so she doesn’t tear this prison to bits.”

“But I can’t help but remember you fled and went quiet as soon as Baphomet joined the picture!”

“I could not trust Baphomet. His grudges against me go too deeply for that. You know this.”

“Do I?” Baal sharply responded, walking right up to Mephisto’s face. Both men were almost equally tall, so their gazes lined up perfectly. Baal’s intimidation tactic failed, as Mephisto’s blood was icy cold. “Pah.” He spat, turning away. “But you’re right. You’ve been too much of an asset to start doubting you now.”

“So?”

“So… What should I do with all these?” Baal asked, pointing at the large yet silent crowd in the field. “Should I kill them all?”

You want me to say yes don’t you Baal? Mephisto thought, looking at the prisoners. This is a test.

“How many are there?” Mephisto asked after a few minutes.

“About three hundred and fifty people. Some are looters, rioters, most were families trying to get out of the city.”

Mephisto walked close to Baal, shoulder to shoulder looking behind him. “And you honestly think slaughtering three hundred and fifty people is a good idea? You know you’re not the only demon in town, especially with Baphomet no longer backing your every move. You think something like this won't leak, and the humans wont find out? How do you think they’ll react when an offshoot military group murdered hundreds of people in cold blood? Do you think you’ll sit on the throne any longer if they start pointing their tanks and crosses in your direction? You said it yourself, laying low is the best option right now. Let humanity fight its wars with the wraiths and wights, the pale shadows and all the other monstrosities that’ve been unleashed and don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

Baal pushed Mephisto back slowly with a hand on his chest, considering his insightful speech. “So you’re saying I should not kill them?”

“No. They’re useful labor, make the men work, put the women and children in cells as motivation to keep them obedient. Use those that can’t be tamed as food for the wendigos or blood bags in your rituals. I know you'd need at least a couple folks a week to keep Wrath’s cell in good condition. Be smart about this Baal.”

Baal stepped back, his face betraying no emotion. All of a sudden however, he broke into a hysterical fit of laughter. “Hah, damn Mephisto I really must admit, I thought I had you for a second there. You passed with flying colors. Had you said yes I’d have had my boys kill you on the spot.”

“Really?” Mephisto asked, hiding how relieved he was. “Might I ask why then, now that I passed?”

“A real demon would have been stupid, and brash. The slaughter of humans would please them greatly. If you were pretending to be one, you’d obviously try and do what a real demon would, answering accordingly. But instead, you did what Mephisto would do: the smart thing.” He laughed, slapping Mephisto on the shoulder as he walked past him to one of his guards. “Meet me in my office in two hours, Mephisto. I want to discuss something with you some more. You’re dismissed for now.”

Mephistopheles nodded, and turned back. An aching desire burned in his veins. A desire to kill Baal where he stood. But Mephisto quenched the anger within him, pushed it down deep and let himself be tranquil. He needed to be patient and besides, patience was always one of his strong suits.