Dancing In The Void

Mephistopheles stared at his weary reflection with distant eyes.

His skin glistened like the surface of a still lake, the folds of his forehead damp and furrowed. The rapid and frigid shower he had taken did not alleviate his burning mood, his worries and fears bubbling still to the surface. The inanimaliat took a deep breath, drying himself with a towel and trying to calm down.

It’ll be fine. He thought. Baal does not suspect anything. I’ve been too valuable an asset for him to doubt me now. But I feel time running out, I need to find out what Baphomet wanted, and why Baal continues to listen now that he’s gone.

Putting on a fresh striped shirt and his long black overcoat, he pondered. What was Baal so intent on telling him that he called another meeting right away? His mind raced through the possibilities as he once again slicked back his hair with gel and cleaned the lint off his clothes. His earlier meeting with Baal had him sweating profusely, and he could not risk anything tipping his boss off. He had to look and feel calm, cool, and collected.

As he wrapped up, he checked the time on a nearby wall-clock and proceeded to make his way out. Just before opening the door however, there was a raspy croak outside his room window, followed by a tap. He turned and was greeted by a small raven with four eyes pale as snow, its feathers blacker than the night sky behind it.

“Shit, shit, not now!” He whispered, rushing to it. “Stay quiet sweetie, I’ll deal with you later. I need to find out what he knows first, alright Whisper?”

The bird cocked its head to the side, as if it understood, before it gave a shrewd caw. Breathing a sigh of relief, Mephistopheles turned and left, locking his room behind him. He made his way through the empty corridors of the compound. At this time of night, even demons needed sleep so there was no trouble to run into along the way. He gave a courteous knock outside Baal’s office doors before opening them and stepping inside.

“Good evening Mephistopheles, come on in. Sit.” Baal cheerfully said, not bothering to turn away from the window.

Mephisto looked around the office as he slowly made his way to the massive armchair in front of Baal’s desk. The office was quite empty and simplistic, but what little furniture Baal had reeked of decadence. The room was illuminated just by a dim hanging lamp and the nightly crescent moon behind the windows. It lacked any sort of paintings or interesting wall decorations, no sculptures or eye-catching idle objects on his desk. His office had just a massive shelf full of books, a couch with a coffee table to the side and a few chairs strewn about accompanying the large office desk at the center.

“Is something wrong?” Baal asked, turning to face him and seeing the confused look on Mephisto’s face.

“Not really, I just expected your room to be a bit more…” Mephisto flailed his hand disinterestedly in the air. “... Interesting? I suppose.”

“Rude. Hah, worry not Mephisto, this is temporary, and, related to why I called you in today. Care for some wine?”

Only if its not poisoned. “Sure.”

Baal carefully took out a bottle and two elegant glasses from a drawer at the bottom of the bookshelf, and popped the cork. He then poured a half a glass for himself and half a glass for Mephisto. After a courteous cheer, Mephisto drank his half in almost an entire gulp. Baal stared at him, with mouth agape.

“W-what?” Mephisto asked.

“By Lucy’s tits Mephisto, who taught you how to drink wine? Did Azazel never teach you?”

“No one? No?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, no, no, no, that’s not how a real demon enjoys the fineries the upper world has to offer.” Baal chastised him, while pouring another glass. “Azazel taught me and showed me the real way a man drinks, and now allow me to be your friend and further teach you.”

“I really can’t-”

“I insist. As your boss. Now...” Baal said, with a cold voice as he handed him the glass. “Don’t drink like a hellhound. First, smell the wine, don’t even think about putting it in your mouth yet. Take a deep breath, smell the aroma, the different nuances, take in the fruit and the labor that brought that liquid to you now.”

Unable to refuse his superior, Mephisto played along, inhaling from the glass as if it was the sweetest flower he had ever found.

“Next, take a sip, just a sip, and do not swallow it. Let the wine sit on your tongue, don’t slosh it around like a cretin. Let the taste coat your mouth, feel the vibrancy and variety, the slight bitterness, the chill sweetness.“

Mephisto’s eyes stared with a dull disinterested look. But as the wine remained in his mouth, his pupils slowly dilated. He could not help but feel a rush of ecstasy flow through him, a chill and a pleasure. Though, I must admit. He thought. This doesn’t taste half bad.

“Now swallow, let the wine flow down your throat. Isn’t the taste that much more exquisite? Isn’t it so much better than swallowing the whole thing like you’re some hog?”

Mephisto was quiet, just embracing the taste, a taste of something so long forgotten, something his heart yearned for dearly.

“Yes...” Baal continued, admiring the wine in his glass against the light of the crescent moon. “In the end, this is why I will always be grateful to Baphomet. Imps and devils and grotesque creatures are not made to enjoy things like this wine. We’re made to suffer, eternally for our sins. Like rats. I despise those filthy rodents. Truly disgusting. But he allowed us… allowed me to experience something… greater. He allowed me to be more than just a pathetic rat.”

“Is that why you called me here?” Mephisto asked, his consciousness returning and placing the glass on the desk. “To reminisce about rats and when Baphomet let you out of hell?”

Baal shook his head, laughing. “If only. Baphomet seems to be gone. Completely, Mephy. No method of contacting him has worked. I’ve tried blood rituals, sacrifices, and even shadowglass possession. Nothing. He’s gone, not dead.”

Good riddance. Mephisto was silent.

“You’re quiet.”

“You know my opinions of Baphomet. I don’t need to let you know how glad I am he’s gone.”

“True, but this is dangerous. We don’t know what happened to him. Only this.” He said pulling out a folder and tossing it on the desk for Mephisto to read.

“What’s this?”

“Gausville. Some days ago. Something happened there, city was destroyed, nothing more than a large smoldering crater, except some bits of it are still floating, even now.”

“So it wasn’t the humans…” Mephisto said, thinking out loud.

“No. I’m thinking this was Baphomet, but I can’t imagine who he could have been fighting.” Baal said with a hushed voice, taking another sip of his wine.

Was this Uriel’s doing? Constantine? Someone else? Jeez, I hope they’re alright.

“You told us you were heading that way, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Is the Angel capable of something like this?”

“Your guess is as good as mine Baal. She definitely did not seem capable of something like this last I saw her. She took down a pale shadow alone, yes, but she lost a leg for it. A city and Baphomet… no, this can’t be her.”

Baal breathed heavily, swallowing some of his wine-mixed spit. “Well, I suppose we don’t know for sure what happened there. And in truth, I don’t much care.”

Mephisto was shocked to hear that. “How come?”

“This better remain here between us, I’m grateful for what Baphomet’s done for me. Truly, but I was hoping he’d fuck off back to hell soon. I didn’t sit under Azazel for so long just to be under him instead.”

“So then, why still chase after the angel? Wasn’t that Baphomet’s goal? What’s your stake in this?” Mephisto said, his voice and tone carefully arranged to not betray his intentions. Tell me Baal, what are you hiding?

“What’s wrong Mephisto? Worried about your daughter?”

A vein in Mephisto’s neck twitched. “No, why would I be worried about the child of some broad I fucked centuries ago?” He lied.

“Just some broad huh? I heard many stories about you Mephisto, and of Camael. From what I recall, she was anything but a broad.”

How dare you say her name in my presence, you motherfucker. Mephisto found it difficult to contain his angered breathing, but he forced himself to, he could not fail now after so much work.

“But you’re right. The angel was Baphomet’s goal. Its why he sent you here, no? She’s what upset this whole delicate balance we have with the humans. She’s a threat, Mephisto. A threat to my control of this side of the world. With Baphomet gone, that control is in more danger than ever before. I’m not the only demon around that wanted Azazel’s throne. And demons alone aren't the only ones that want me dead.”

“So, what is the plan then?”

“The plan… is Dudael.” Baal paused, as if he had revealed some great information. Mephisto just stared back plainly.

“Go on?”

“Wrath and the kid are a far more dangerous thorn in my side right now. Your little seals are good, wonderful, but this little compound of ours is not gonna hold them. Its too dangerous, too open. All it takes is one attack and suddenly Wrath’s on my ass. I’d like to avoid that, and so I’m going to move base to Dudael.”

Shit, this sounds very bad. I might need to try and break them out before then. “Wait, Dudael is a place?” Mephisto asked.

“Oh, Azazel never told you? It is a prison built by the angel Shemhazai, the eyeless watcher. He created it some hundreds of thousands of years ago, though I do not remember what for, probably some powerful demon, boring story anyway. What’s more interesting is, the prison is carved into a mountain range in the middle of a vast desert far west from here and far from the eyes of humans. The massive structure appears small, but it stretches far below the ground, nine levels deep. Each level is the size of a ten story building at least, few know just how deep that place goes.” Baal described the prison, with glee.

He took some more folders from his drawers and tossed them in front of Mephisto. The demon quickly glanced through the pictures, showing schematics, blueprints, data logs, reports, and various details he could only skim for now.

One blueprint in particular caught his eye, it was a full top down overview of Dudael. The building looked like a massive upside down pyramid below the ground, with a dome round head above, carved into the mountains. And within that pyramid lay a skeletal structure that resembled an upside-down pine tree. Broken into nine different levels, each level further split into a fractal of paths, rooms, corridors, hallways and diverging sections.

“This looks like a massive fire hazard…” Mephisto laughed cynically. “This is a prison for demons Baal. You want to make this your base? It will end up being your tomb. Who knows what lurks in the depths of this place?” Mephisto grimly finished, his smile faded into terrified worry.

“Haha, yes this place was built by an angel, but in the countless years since, it was taken by demons, eventually by Azazel. God damned Azazel, he was too stupid, STUPID to use more than a bare skeleton crew to run the place. He did not know what a glorious fortress he had ready to service him. I’ve already begun preparations. We’re already reopening up to five levels deep.”

“You want to open the whole prison? What if there’s an archangel hiding in the shadows down there? What if there’s worse?”

“Not the whole prison, just enough to be able to protect demonkind. I’ll turn it into our paradise. We’ll wait it out there, let humanity fight against the wraiths, tire themselves out, and we’ll be out of harm's way. I’ve already sent word to some other demons, so far only the Baroness’ accepted my offer.” Baal finished his glass of wine and walked from behind his desk putting a knowing arm on Mephisto’s shoulder.

“You’ve helped me so far. I need you to help me now. Two weeks from now, you’ll be leading a convoy carrying Wrath and the brat to Dudael. You’ll be taking up to fifty of my best vehicles and as many men as I can spare, your choice. I’m giving you full command of this operation.”

“Full command?” Mephisto echoed. “And if things go wrong? Then I’m to take the fall?”

“I trust you know what happens if things go wrong. But honestly I’m sure the fear of Wrath tearing your head off if she escapes is enough.” Baal said, his pudgy smile betraying his ominous intent. “The trip will be a five day ride, if you include night stops. Perhaps three if you drive through the night. I’ll leave that to your discretion. I have some business to finish here beforehand, so I’ll be seeing you off on the day of. Andras will be coming with you on the ride, you know him right?”

“Yes, young demon, overexcited bastard.” Mephisto said, his mind still racing with all the new information, trying to formulate the proper course of action moving forward.

“He’s there to keep an eye on you, so if anything happens to him, that's on you, capiche?”

“Capiche.”

“Good. The demon running things in Dudael currently is some plod named Asmodeus. I haven’t actually been able to find out much about him, Azazel’s information about him was quite scarce. He’s been the Warden for quite a few hundreds, if not thousands of years. But, the messages we received from him seemed… cooperative. So as far as I can see, this operation will go without a hitch. Once we’re all set up and Wrath’s safely locked away, I’ll tell you my plans for getting the angel.”

Mephisto’s eyes perked up at that thought. So, there is a plan… I need to learn what it is while I still have the time…

“Sounds good to me. Speaking of Wrath, did you go and talk to them like you said you would?”

“No, I was busy today. Got a new shipment I had to look over, you know the Garret imports? Well I…” Baal continued to talk, but Mephisto almost immediately stopped listening to his horrid voice.

The rest of the evening passed quickly. The boss and underling chatted away about mundane transports and weaponry cargo. Mephisto went on autopilot, his mind focused on the more pressing issues at hand. He had managed to gain a lot of precious information out of Baal, but not enough for him to be able to drop the facade just yet.

I need to figure something out, fast. Mephisto thought as he made his way back to his chamber. Maybe I can use the transfer as a cover to break them out? I’ll need to work on this.

When he finally found himself back in his room, he made sure to lock the door behind him and then tossed his overcoat on his couch. Whisper still patiently waited for him at his window. He nodded approvingly to it. He took out a small pocket knife, its handle gray with age, and a small piece of old yellowed paper. He very carefully took off his left black glove, revealing a scar at the tip of his index finger. Mephisto then reopened the scar with his blade, humming a demonic prayer while inscribing one word in blood: Dudael.

I can only hope you know where it is. He thought as he carefully looked out the window. No one in the yard, all the lights are off.

The demon opened the window, petting his bird before letting it swallow the rolled up piece of paper.

“Off you go Whisper, be safe.” He whispered to it before doing one last check to make sure no one saw before closing the windows.

The little bird cawed once more before it beat its raven wings and flew in the dark of night. Unbeknownst to it, another pair of eyes suddenly spotted the bird flying in front of them, blocking their view of the crescent moon.

Katherine cleaned the blood off her halberd as Samael unloaded some boxes from the truck and Ronov smoked a thin cigar with a jitter.

“You did good little girl, you did good. Stupid wraiths didn’t know what hit them, sure didn’t. Dumb laughing pricks.” He said to her while staring with his thin cashew eyes.

Katherine’s gaze snapped towards him, filled with disgust and boiling rage. “Call me a ‘little girl’ again, and I don’t care how many seals are on me, I will turn you into demon paste.”

Ronov shuddered, and took a step back.

“Leave her be Ronny.” Kaidan’s voice called out from a bit further away.

“I was just congratulating her on getting us those supplies sheesh. Only congratulating, why she gotta be so pissy.”

Katherine focused her entire willpower on ignoring him. She delicately cleaned the black and red blood off her halberd, as a profound sadness took control of her.

These were all mere people… Innocent people that I should have protected. Instead, I'm the one that doomed them all. Now I’m a rabid dog on a leash, killing without care…

Kaidan’s steps walking towards her broke through her concentration.

“Hey.” He said with an unusual compassion in his tone. “Snap out of it. Boss wants to see you. You can leave the armor in the truck, how was it?”

“Awful. I don't know why you all forced me to use it for this scouting.”

“Sorry love. Boss’ orders. In fact, that's probably why he’s calling you to E block.” He coughed. “Here, I’ve marked this map. Just so you don’t get lost and know where to go.”

Katherine took one quick glance at the map and instantly memorized the location.

“Don’t need it.” She said coldly while unstrapping her shoulderpads and breastplate.

“Fine.” Kaidan sighed. “Be a bitch about it. Now get the fuck out.”

Katherine obliged, rushing to her lockers to shower the blood off her face and change into a more casual wear. Jeans, a plain shirt, and a vest over it all. Once she was finished, she briskly walked towards E block.

I was slow today. She thought on her way there. My reflexes have dulled from sitting around for so long. I need to pick up the pace or I’m gonna end up dead.

She stopped and sighed in front of a large, unmarked blue door.

Bend, don’t break.

“Katherine, good you’re here.” Octavian’s velvety voice called to her when she entered his room. “Don’t sit, we’re not gonna stay long.”

She saw him holding a piece of yellowed paper with a bloody word she could not read from this position.

“I’ve just received news. As I suspected, they’ll be moved in two weeks, to Dudael.” He said. “The trip will take between three to five days, so we must be ready before then.”

Katherine looked at him and then down to the paper then back at him. “You got that from one word? All that?” She asked.

“No, this word is a blood mark. My spy carved this word with his own blood, and I can see the recent memory he imbued it with.”

“I suppose this means no more nightly raids as we prepare for this attack?”

“You’re correct Katherine, and I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself by killing some mindless beasts.”

I wish you were the one I was killing instead. Her thoughts rang with hate.

“My plan is to have you attack the convoy. Steal Wrath away from Baal when she’s most vulnerable and then return here.”

“You still haven’t told me how she’s gonna be useful. You know she wants to kill me right? I beat her ass pretty hard at the auction.” Katherine boasted.

“Yes, I am aware. Had you not defeated her then, I wouldn’t have died that night.”

“You seem to be doing alright, unfortunately.” She said with a grin.

“Anyway…” Octavian sighed. “I have two gifts for you that will assist you in your mission.”

“Is it a gun and the opportunity for me to shoot you with it?”

Octavian looked at her with disappointment in his green eyes. He simply shook his head and rose from his seat. Then he demanded she follow him to a nearby garage. There, Katherine saw a strange vehicle covered by a large piece of gray cloth.

“You remember when I whisked you away from the forest some months ago. I was riding an umbra-equus.”

Just call it a Shadowhorse you pretentious fuck. She thought. “Yes, I remember how you knocked me out cold and then bound me in your servitude.”

“Well, I figured you’d need a good ride for this mission. But a demonic hellhorse is not befitting of the great and noble Huntress, I thought.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“No. I genuinely thought that.” He said with a blank stare on his face. “Don’t get too used to me being nice to you however. So, with that thought, I had my boys make me, well you, something special.”

With that, he ripped the covering off and the thunderous roar of the engine blasted to life. Katherine stepped back, covering her face before realizing what was causing that noise. A large, sleek, demonic-looking motorcycle was in the middle of the garage. Its engine was alive with a dark orange light projecting out from between the gears and mechanical plates. Its wheels were thick rubber at least a hand wide and numerous red spikes jutted out from the rims on both sides. Katherine walked closer to the front, taking in the hellish appearance of the bike. The hand grips were made from silver bones, and the headlight was instead a finely sculpted horse-skull symbol whose eyes shone brightly outwards. At least, Katherine hoped it was a sculpture. The vehicle emanated a malignant aura, one that terrified her.

“Its… a motorcycle.” Katherine said dumbfoundedly.

“If you tell me you don’t know how to drive one I’ll be very pissed.”

“Did you seriously kill your horse and bind its soul into a motorcycle?”

“No, of course not. I didn’t kill my horse and bind its soul into a motorcycle. You think I only have one horse?”

Katherine was silent.

“Look, I’m not asking you to jump for joy over this, but this is yours. For being a shall we say, decent servant.” He said, his tone brimming with mocking intent. “But that’s not all. While I had my finest demons working on this, I had them do some other… improvements.”

He motioned her to go into the room next door. There, Katherine saw a white sheet covering what appeared to be a stand of some sorts. With a trepidatious hand, she removed the sheet and revealed her Huntress armor underneath. But it was different, changed, malformed. The pauldrons’ gold lining was stained black and red, with straight thin iron spikes protruding throughout them. On the right shoulder was a wide neck guard, inscribed with runic marks that she could tell were demonic in nature. The breastplate was smoother with a v-shaped design running down its length and scale-like metal around the torso. The same markings were present throughout the entire material, giving the black metal a strange red hue. Katherine stared in shock. She cautiously reached for one of the gauntlets, inspecting it carefully. It was sleeker and less bulky, as well as no longer having the twin blades running down it.

“What have you done?” She said, her voice soft and distressed.

“Oh thank you for improving my armor and giving me a motorcycle, Octavian, oh you’re welcome Katherine I wouldn't want you to die painfully in our new mission, why do our conversations never sound anything like that?”

“I never asked for it to be improved!” Katherine lamented. “It was my mother’s… you defiled it…”

“Oh stop whining. It was barely functional at best and a clunky pile of scrap if I’m being honest.” Octavian smirked. Before he left the room, he turned around and gave Katherine a slight head tilt. “Enjoy.”

Katherine clutched the vest by the shoulders, closing her eyes and resting her head against it. She could not let him see the tears that swelled in her eyes. Her body ached with the desire to turn around and choke the life from Octavian, but she knew the damned seal kept her at bay. She’d only be hurting herself, and she was in enough pain for now.

Constantine inspected his necklace with intense focus. He ran his finger over the reddish metal, feeling its icy touch.

Righteous Hunter… He thought to himself, thinking back on Mephisto’s words from what felt like an eternity ago. Hmm, I wonder what good righteousness is in the face of death itself?

He ran a hand through his hair accidentally pulling on his bandages. Groaning, he put it back in place. Although he was still covered in casts and patches, especially around his chest, Constantine felt his strength returning with each passing day. He flexed his hand and kept staring at his necklace. His mind raced with so many thoughts and so many questions, so much hatred for that accursed Lady. The anger and hate seemed to intensify the more he rubbed the tip of the blade.

She knew me… she knew me, before all of this, and she knows I want to save Nikolai. Nikolai was never a monster, Lady Death, you made her one. I have to stop her... Somehow… He saw his reflection in his necklace, his eyes glowing back at himself with a red glow. Its all because of you Dad. Even long dead you still find ways to torment me.

He turned and got out of bed, carefully pulling the IV drip out of his hand. Constantine was always squeamish about needles, despite his early life desires to become a doctor. Now, he got out of bed because if he stayed another minute he was going to scream of boredom. Weeks had passed, and aside from the occasional nurse and visit by Sean, he spent the day strapped to the bed, alone.

Eventually they took off his restraints, on the condition he stopped trying to charge straight out of his room. He reluctantly agreed, to his chagrin. But that was four days ago now, and he was feeling in top shape, or something close to it. Constantine did a few stretches and squats, getting the blood pumping through his body and reinvigorating his sore, aching muscles.

“Gagh.” He yelped, as a cramp shot through his back and left thigh. Falling back onto the bed, he pulled his hospital robes aside and looked at the scar on his leg. A bullet wound from Azazel, from the same weapon that killed Nikolai. Just the thought of his name brought the anger boiling inside him. He subconsciously grasped his necklace, running his finger over its form.

I wish I could have ended you myself. You took her from me. Made her that other cunt’s slave… He thought, gritting his teeth and his eyes swelling with tears. Constantine let go, and his anger was overtaken by sadness and guilt. It was only a moment… I looked away for one moment… and that was all it took…

Laying back, Constantine put an arm over his eyes and did something he was too ashamed to do under constant surveillance. Something he had difficulty doing from a childhood of suppressing it. He had always been taught to just take whatever hurt he had and bury it deep, never letting it show. But even this feeling, this sentiment was too much for him. He began weeping softly.

Evan… I miss you… I need you here with me buddy… I feel so lost without you backing me up. God I hope you’re doing ok… Wrath and Mephisto will keep you safe… they have to… they better… or I’ll…

“Please don’t tell me the nurse let you sleep like that.” Sean’s voice broke through his thoughts. Constantine jumped up and Sean saw his wet puffy eyes. “Oh... I’m sorry to… intrude.”

“No, no… sniff, I was just finishing.” Constantine said while blowing his nose and cleaning himself up with some nearby paper towels. “What’s happening, Sean?”

“How’re you feeling today? You seem to be doing great.”

“Yeah... I’m doing pretty good. Physically anyway.”

“Everyone that knows of you two, is quite amazed at how fast you’ve both recovered. Its incredible. Its barely been a month since Gausville and you’re both back on your feet. Doctors thought it would be at least half a year, which was worrisome cause we’d have to move you-”

Constantine’s eyes lit up with hope and excitement. “What did you just say?”

“Uh... we’d have to move you? Oh… yes, Uriel’s been up since before yesterday. Hey, hey, where’re you going?” Sean said, stopping Constantine gently when he got up and rushed towards the door.

“You didn’t think mentioning this was important? I want to see her.” Constantine said with a deep and imposing tone.

“That’s why I’m here. Sit down on the bed, you still have broken bones.”

Constantine snapped towards Sean with defiance, his gaze sending a cold fear in the man.

“Please.” Sean finished, with Constantine complying afterwards. “Thank you. I’ll take you to her right after this.”

“Well, what is it then?” He said disinterestedly.

“We can’t stay at this hospital much longer. We’re underground, yes, but our scouts have reported a massive hoard of strange, laughing people… moving in this direction.”

“Wights…”

“Yes? I believe Nate called them Wraiths, same abominations I suppose. They’ll be here in about a week’s time, given the way they’re moving. We’re already halfway through most of the other evacuation procedures and you and Uriel are about the only ones left.”

“Wraiths, hmm? Where will we be going?” Constantine asked, his concerns showing through.

“Our leader will tell you, you and Uriel. He’s the one in charge of our covenant. He runs this operation. That's why I came, to bring you two to meet him.“

“I’ve been bored and alone stuck to this bed all this time, and he never bothered to drop by. How nice of him.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“Let's get going then. You probably want to talk with Uriel first.”

The two of them then left the room, with Sean offering Constantine some help walking due to his cast ankle. He graciously accepted. The walk over was slow, but Uriel was just across the hallway so it did not take long. The moment Sean opened the glass door and Constantine saw Uriel his heart leapt to his throat. He had not seen Uriel in what felt like an eternity, and her immediate beauty struck him with the force of the sun itself. She was beaming, despite the bandages and patches that she too had over her arms and face.

Her wings were unbandaged however, closely pressed against her back, but still showing through. They still had their dark black coating instead of the bright silver she had at first. A sentiment that filled Constantine with a terrible sadness. Her long straight azure hair was like the still surface of a waveless ocean. The perfect stillness was only broken by the small yellow clip she still had on the right side of her head. Her pale white eyes showed a kind and gentle gaze that sent an electrifying chill through Constantine’s body. He forced himself to look away, so she would not immediately notice how hard he was blushing. He instead noticed Jacob next to her, chatting away about random topics as he usually did while Uriel listened with supreme focus.

“Hey there you little rascal.” Constantine said, addressing the kid. The two had met sometime ago, but Jacob’s first impression of Constantine left him somewhat terrified. This was apparent when Jacob immediately stopped talking and shyly scooched closer to Uriel when he noticed Constantine entering the room.

“Still don’t like Constantine, Jake? Hahah.” Sean laughed as his son rushed him and hid in his arms.

“I’m not that terrifying…” Constantine muttered to himself with a sad pout on his face. Right?

His sadness was interrupted by Uriel’s light-hearted giggle. A memory of a time long gone seemed to flash before her. He looked her in the eyes, and their gazes locked for a brief moment before he turned away again.

“H-hey Uriel. How’re you doing?” He said with an awkward stammer.

“Better than I expected I would be feeling.” She cheerfully replied.

“That’s great, I see you’ve been having company… Unlike me…” He muttered again.

“Let's give them a moment, c’mon Jake. I’ll see you two outside in a bit, yeah?”

Constantine nodded to Sean as he and his kid made their way outside. Standing like a statue in front of Uriel, he clumsily made his way to the bed, sitting on the far end of it, careful not to stand on Uriel’s leg.

“Are you alright Constantine? You seem a bit… red.” She said, her voice echoing with a soft pleasant timber and complete obliviousness.

“Y-yeah I’m fine? Uh, I’m just… I haven’t seen you in a while is all. I’m having difficulty thanking you for saving my life… Thank you, truly.” Wow, that wasn’t difficult at all. He thought.

“Hmm.” The angel smirked. “From what I recall, it was you who saved my life that day. But your thanks is most welcome.”

“Yeah but that moment when I grew wings and everything…” His mind reached back in time, remembering how he and Uriel’s minds were one, their souls open to each other fully. “L-let’s call it even then. Who’s keeping count anymore.”

“I’m… happy we both survived that.” She said, her expression changing into one of weariness. “I did not know if it would work, possessing you that is. Angels cannot possess, as far as I’m aware. But I suppose my demonic heritage offers some benefit.”

“You’ll have to tell me more about possession and stuff later, sounds fascinating. But reliving that memory is not something I’m into right now.” He said, shuddering at the thought. “It felt like I ate a nuclear explosion and had to keep it from blowing me to pieces.”

“I’m… sorry.” She said meekly.

“No I didn’t mean…” Constantine opened his mouth, realizing he upset her but he chose to shut it instead and not push the subject further. God I’m such an idiot sometimes. “Evan and the rest never made it to Gausville. Sean says there’s danger heading this way, so they’re preparing to move.”

“Speaking of Sean, look what he got me.” Uriel said, pushing aside the bed covers and pulling up her left leg. Constantine’s eyes went wide, not just from the brand new prosthetic Uriel was sporting below the knee, but from the soft and pale thigh she revealed above the knee. He quickly looked back to the metallic prosthetic, hoping Uriel did not notice his deep blush.

It was an exquisitely formed piece, with long chrome rods sculpted over the front and back parts, while some gears and mechanical pieces could be seen on the inside throughout the bulk of the leg. The foot was made of a finely sculpted material that replicated the real look decently, although its stiff appearance was a dead giveaway. It looked like a futuristic skeletal leg in its sleekness and design.

“Apparently.” She began with excitement. “If I press this thing here, some small compartments pop out.” She demonstrated, and the mechanisms clicked and whirred as the chromium plates shifted and two small slots extruded from each side of the prosthetic. “Sean said I can put some small knives or objects here, as a ‘just in case’.”

“Uriel this thing’s insane.” Constantine said, his expression filled with wonder and awe. “There’s no way they made something this complex in a month.“

“Who knows. Its very comfortable, the straps hold my leg without pain, and I’ve walked around on it a bit. It feels natural.” She said, smiling.

“That's… amazing. I’m sorry the crap me and Evan made was a bitch to deal with and caused you so much pain.”

“Its fine…” She said, trying to cheer him up. “We were short on time, and materials. Like you said.”

With the conversation coming to a halt, the two just sat silently, enjoying each other’s presence. Neither looked at the other, but each could feel the other’s hearts beating in sync, even now. Or perhaps, Constantine was just imagining things.

“We should get going if you’re doing okay. They said the big boss wants to meet us. We’ll see what happens next.”

“Whatever happens, we’ll stick together, yes?” Uriel asked softly.

“Of course, Uriel. I made a promise. Now, let's get dressed. I’m gonna go ask him where he put our clothes. Don’t think the boss wants to see us in nothing but patient gowns.”

About half an hour later, both were clothed and ready. It was difficult to get dressed with casts on and all, so Sean helped Constantine while Insect joined the group and helped Uriel. Uriel was graciously gifted a couple shirts and blouses that had zippers and openings for her wings, and she decided on a featureless one, colored a rich purple. She finished her look with the same black overcoat that Constantine had cut for her, which had been cleaned and cared for in the meantime. He complemented her by wearing his own pale coat. He clutched the hilt of his dagger through his clothes, enjoying the good feeling of having it back in his possession.

“Looking good, Uriel.” Constantine said to her while still tying his belt.

“We’re going to the chapel near the upper floor. Sorry Uriel, but the elevators don’t work.” Was all Sean said as they made their way up some winding stairs. Despite her initial weariness, Constantine noticed that she was not putting a lot of effort in her walking. He then saw that overall Uriel’s stepping was a lot more natural and comfortable, which filled him with a much-needed joy.

There’s no one in these hallways. Constantine thought to himself as only the sounds of their footsteps echoed through the empty corridors. I expected at least some commotion if they’re moving soon. Guess he really kept his word in keeping Uriel a secret?

Eventually, the group made their way into a large room, with high ceilings and a churchly appearance. Pews divided the room into thirds, and everywhere on the walls were religious icons, crosses, and other bits of holy decor.

“Behind the altar, office on the right.”

“You’re not joining us?” Constantine asked.

“No, I have to take care of some things. Go ahead, he’ll fill me in later.”

Insect stood next to the door, waiting for Constantine to go through. She leered at him as he walked past her. He looked away, slightly scared before knocking and making his way inside.

“Come in, Come in!” Boomed a loud and boisterous voice. It was a rugged yet homely sound that instantly made Constantine feel welcome and relaxed. This feeling was further accentuated when a large muscular man rolled in front of him in his wheelchair, and quickly grabbed his hand shaking it vigorously.

“You must be Constantine, my apologies for not meeting with you sooner. Oho, strong firm handshake, I like you already. Please, take a seat.” The man continued, as he pushed him in the direction of two armchairs in front of his desk. It was a large, simple yet beautiful hand-carved desk.

My hand… Constantine lamented in his mind.

“Oho, the ever mysterious Insect.” He bowed his head, kissing the back of her hand. “Hope you’ve been in great spirits and health, dear girl.”

Constantine swore he almost saw her smile as she nodded back. No… must have been a trick of the light…

Insect’s lips immediately dropped into a frown when she crossed eyes with Constantine. He couldn’t help but chuckle awkwardly. There it is.

“Oh…” The man paused, and looked at Uriel with a serious expression on his face as she stopped in front of the doorway. “I must admit, your beauty now that you’re awake and well, truly exceeded any expectations I hoped to have.” He said, pulling on his clerical collar. “In all my years as a priest, a man of God first, and a hunter of beasts second… I never imagined I would see myself face to face with true divinity.”

“P-please sir I-…” Uriel tried to argue, but went silent as the man raised his palms respectfully. She gulped.

“Whatever it is you believe you need to say, there is no need for it here. God has welcomed you into this holy place, and therefore so shall I. Please, take a seat Uriel.” He said, rolling his chair aside and leading her in with his arm. “Oh, I see you have one of my old prosthetics. I’m guessing Sean had one of the boys give it a more womanly sculpt, seeing how it looks a lot less bulky than the one I had.”

“How did you-?”

“That faint mechanical rattle when you stepped, I’d recognize it anywhere.” He chuckled to himself, closing the door behind Uriel and rolling his wheelchair behind the desk.

Constantine took the moment of pause to inspect the room and the man sitting before him. It was a small, compact room, filled with drawers and shelves and very old furniture. On the shelves were dusty tomes, and ancient-looking scrolls with yellowed paper and handmade bindings. Crucifixes and holy paraphernalia littered the room, decorating the walls, the desk, and even the ceiling.

The man himself matched the religious atmosphere of the room, dressed in his dark black priest gown. There was only a thin white t-shaped line running along his neck to break the monotony. He had a thick scraggy brunet beard that clung all the way from his face and down to his neck. His mustache however, was large and bushy, and appeared waxed. On top of that, it was a lighter, browner color than his beard or the hair on his head. His eyes were soft, and kind, with his right eye having a noticeable droopy eyelid. But the wrinkles that surrounded them told the tale of a lifetime of worry and pain.

You’ve been through this hell much longer than I have, haven’t you, old man?

“My name is Nathaniel Thornpike. I am the leader of this esteemed Covenant of Pieous Hunters, the one hundred and forty sixth to be exact. We are a coalition founded by the one Samson the Unholy, with the intention of protecting humanity from the horrors that lurk in the shadows. Sean told me you were friends with Katherine, so I’m sure she told you about most of what we do.”

Constantine and Uriel were both silent, averting their gazes as their minds reached back to that painful memory.

“Right… friends...” Uriel began. ”She told us some stuff, but never mentioned that there were others aside from her. Nor this… covenant.”

“Hmmhm.” Nathaniel chuckled to himself, scratching his beard. “In multiple ways she was correct. There are few who could live up to the Huntress’ achievements. After all, most demons are terrified of that name alone, while I doubt the few that know about our name even care to shiver! Harh. Katherine took her mother’s name, and with it inspired fear in the underworld, despite her youthful age.”

“Yeah well, she almost killed us and unleashed hell, so she can go fuck herself with her achievements.” Constantine said.

“Easy there son, you’re in the Lord’s house.” Nathaniel sighed. “Haah, but you’re right. What Katherine did was, despite her well intent, wrong. It is difficult to be the leader for a covenant of hunters without hunters. And once Katherine broke ties with us almost completely well… Our influence and impact has been dying quietly over many years, but I feel that doomed us entirely. I could not fight monsters anymore-”

“Why not?” Constantine blurted. “Sorry you just… seemed… right, the wheelchair…”

“Constantine be quiet.” Uriel interjected.

“When I lost my first leg, I knew my time was up, but I refused to accept it. So I built that prosthetic myself, pushing my broken body beyond its limits in my desperate attempts to cling to some false sense of glory. My mistake cost me my other leg, and the life of my dearest friend and partner.“

“I’m… sorry to hear that.” Constantine said, sinking into his chair as Nathaniel’s expression changed to one of deep sadness. He didn’t even have to turn his head to feel Insect’s angered eyes staring daggers at him.

“Pah! To hell with Cain. I’m sure that prosthetic will be of much more use to you than it was for me, sweet angel!” He said, immediately changing his tone back to one of joy and excitement. “I knew then that my role was here, to guide and teach the youthful to carry on my friend’s legacy. Such as young Insect here. She is one of Samson’s direct descendants.”

Constantine turned to Insect with a ‘you have to be kidding’ look on his face. “So Sean lied about you huh? You’re Katherine’s… cousin?”

“Hohahahah.” Nathaniel’s hearty laugh filled the room. “Wouldn’t that be something. No, unfortunately Insect is farther from the main Devilsbane branch. I’m sure if you trace their lines back far enough you’ll find a common great-great-great grandmother or father. Although she still has the serpent mark, did she never show you?”

“Uh, no.” Constantine said bluntly.

“She’s just shy, I'm sure. In fact, that's probably why she and Sean never said anything.” Nathaniel said.

There was a knock on the wall coming from Insect’s direction. Everyone turned to look at her, and she motioned some hand gestures in Nathaniel’s direction.

“Alright, alright I’ll stop talking about you. She gets antsy when I do so. She also says she couldn’t risk you two trying to kill her for being related to Katherine.”

If only you knew about me and her sister. My hate is for Katherine alone, that traitorous bitch.

Nathaniel took a deep breath and then continued. “Alright, let’s get serious. I’ve been told of what you two have done for Sean, and for the city of Gausville. For that, I cannot thank you enough.”

“But Gausville was destroyed…” Uriel couldn’t help but proclaim with sadness aching in her heart.

“Yes, but perhaps had you two not been there, things might have been worse. You gave us time to save those we could, and that is enough.”

Or maybe, if we hadn’t been there none of that would have happened. Constantine thought.

“So I ask you two this: join our forces. We could greatly use your help, and having an angel on our side, why that is something I’ve prayed for for many years.”

“Look, Nate…” Constantine began, leaning forward. “I told Sean as well, but this is all a little fast. We just met you, and all you’ve told us so far is that you need more human meat to throw to the demon grinder. That doesn’t really match with our plans right now.”

“And what plans… be those?” He asked.

“Our friends. We were supposed to meet up in Gausville. They never arrived.”

“Hmm, and do you know what happened to them? Demons, Men, something else?”

“N-no, we were separated by a massive... crow-wendigo, abomination.”

Uriel looked away as Constantine continued talking. She felt too ashamed of what had happened that day and couldn’t bear to think about it much longer.

“Listen, Constantine. We can try and help you find out what happened to your friends but without even the slightest lead, it will be practically impossible. Who knows how long it could take. We’re far from Gausville now, maybe they showed up and are trying to find you instead.”

“No, no, no.” Constantine insisted. “They would have found us, trust me they have that ability.”

Uriel perked up from her slump. “The slightest… lead?” She repeated. “Constantine, you just gave me an idea. Remember how Wrath found me?”

“Yeah she… did the soul search… thing. Wait-”

“Yes, I can try and do that. Maybe I can find something, anything to help us.” Uriel said with a sparkle of hope in her eyes. She leaned forward, placing her arms on Nathaniel’s desk.

“This ability of yours…” Nathaniel interrupted. “Do you know how to use it?“

“I… uh… n-no. Not really” Uriel stammered. “I haven’t been able to use it much. I don’t have experience.”

“In that case, I propose the following!” Nathaniel roared, clapping his hands once and startling his guests. “Let us share in our information and skills. Allow me to train you, both of you and give Uriel here ample time for her to find some trace of your friends. I am an old cripple, but an old shield can still block a lethal blow, an old blade can still kill, and my old mind still holds secrets and tricks that will be of utmost value to you two.”

“Training. You’re gonna train us?” Constantine asked with a curious look on his face.

“Constantine, think about it, we need to get stronger if we’re to face someone like Katherine again.” Uriel told him, with a strange excitement coursing through her.

“Yes son. I’ve been told you’re proficient somewhat in the spear and dagger, but there’s always more you can learn. Not just holy weapons, or guns. But tactics, traps, and your own physical and mental power. And of course I can offer you a few more, supernatural teachings as well. Those might prove especially useful for you, right Uriel?”

The angel nodded back at him.

“I must admit, I do not know if our mortal guns and weapons can match your holy powers. Nor do I know if I can teach you how to draw their full potency. But given how… humane you are, I believe the same principles will apply. A strength-filled body, a strong, clever mind, discipline, control, et cetera, I believe these traits will allow you alone to improve the skills I cannot teach.”

“You’re right, old man.” Constantine began, the tone of his voice changed as if he had a powerful realization. “So far, I’m amazed we’ve… I’ve managed to barely scrape by. My friends have all gotten hurt in different ways, and I’ve been powerless to help them for too long. I was just some kid who took too long to realise in how deep of a shit I’ve gotten myself.”

“Language.”

“Sorry. But I realized, and I swore an oath to myself, and for that I need to get stronger. Please, train us. Teach us everything you know and can, and help us find our friends, rescue them if they’re in danger. If you do that for us, I’ll join your covenant. I’ll kill every last demon I can find until the day I die if need be. I can’t speak for or force Uriel to, but I know she would do the same, isn’t that right?” He finished his grim speech, turning to her and finally staring into her snow-white eyes. She also looked back at him and it was as if their souls were laid bare for each other.

“Constantine is correct. Help us get our friends back, in any way you can, and I’ll join you as well.” Her voice echoed with determination.

Nathaniel looked first at Uriel, then at Constantine, and slowly his lips curved into a warm smile.

“Very well then. We shall begin after we’ve finished moving. I know someone who can train Uriel, Constantine, you will be taught by Insect. Rest well until then.”

Oh you gotta be fucking kidding.