Dancing In The Void

“You should be thanking all your lucky stars and whatever gods you pray to, Mephisto.” Azazel’s voice shot like an icy dagger through his body.

Mephisto kept silent, swallowing whatever pride he wanted to keep. However, the constant beratement since he’d stepped in Azazel’s office was making it quite difficult. It had been a week since the botched deal, and the rest he took to clear any minor wounds and bruises was all but relaxation for him. His mind was constantly thinking, worrying about what would happen when he met his superior once more.

His task was explicitly to protect Belial and he had failed. His demonic mentor was now in the hospital because he failed to contain the situation. The bullet that struck him had pierced an important artery and while he was now stable, and recovery wasn’t out of the question, signs were certain that Belial would now be out of commission for a while. Worst of all was that his other boss seemed exceedingly calm about the situation. Mephisto expected rage, shouting, the usual nonsense when it came to Azazel, but he just seemed calm, if a little glum.

“I did what I thought was right at the time.” Mephisto said at last when the silence drew on too long. “I did what you said, before they even pulled out their guns, I shot them dead on the spot.” He pleaded for his case.

“And is that supposed to make me feel better?” Azazel shrugged. “One of my top lieutenants is in the hospital, the Baroness, that vampiric bitch, has been blowing up my phone with threats of full on war, and all I have to show for it is a bunch of faulty explosives.”

Mephisto gulped. “Actually, while the first two might be true, I… worked with Baal on the faulty bombs. I followed some of your lessons and some online tutorials, a little ammonium nitrate compounds and done. I added the necessary cooling agent to the explosives to turn some dangerous duds into what we need.”

Now it was Azazel’s turn to be silent. He stared with both eyebrows raised and his forehead wrinkly. Slowly, he opened his mouth, letting his tongue roll over his perfect, flawless teeth. “You did that without my permission?” He finally asked.

“Well, that. Baal later took the bombs and the men have already gone back to digging in the tunnels.”

“You didn’t think to clue me in on this at some point?”

“I just did.” Mephisto said plainly. “Look, I understand you might be frustrated-”

“Oh really? Is it that obvious?”

“But you’re taking out your anger on the wrong person.” Mephisto finished, determined to not let himself be interrupted.

“And who might that be?” Azazel asked, standing up from his office chair and walking around his desk. “Why don’t you enlighten me exactly whose fault it is?”

“The bomb tech’s. He delivered a faulty product, and I told them as such. Ask anyone!”

“Everyone’s dead, Mephy. I don’t have many to ask.”

“Ask Baal, ask Belial when he comes out of his coma. They’ll tell you as much. Shiteck or whatever his name was blew a lid when I pointed out his bombs were fucked, and he got all aggressive. He jumped at Baal, Baal pushed him off and then he reached for the gun. I acted. I shot him without blinking, him and the other guards. I saved everyone’s asses AND delivered the cargo. I saved the god-damn mission!” Mephisto said, his voice slowly climbing in intensity as he revealed the story.

“Alright. Settle down.” Azazel said, his implaccable facade finally breaking into a smug grin. He walked past Mephisto, taking a light stroll through his room. The all too familiar sound of his match lighting against his matchbook and then against one of his cigarettes filled Mephisto’s ears. “In truth, when I heard everything I was somewhat concerned. The Baroness called and said you went wild and killed everyone for no reason. You can imagine my reaction. Hearing this version however, its difficult to imagine that you did anything but the right thing.”

“Thank you, Azazel.” Mephisto said, finally letting out the breath of air he’d held since he walked in. Just what Azazel had been waiting for.

“However, you still explicitly failed to keep Belial unharmed. Whatever happened, that was undeniably one of your goals.” Azazel grinned. “Such a failure has consequences.”

Mephisto clenched his fists and grit his teeth. With a stern, dreadful expression of anger, he turned around and faced his boss. The two stared at each other for a moment. “Alright. Go ahead, do what you must.”

Azazel raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What? Wait, what?” He laughed. “You think I’m gonna strap you to a table and dissect you or something? Do what you did to that Andrew kid?”

“You’re… not?”

“No stupid, I’m just docking your pay.” The demon said with a chuckle. “What, do you expect me to kill everyone that works for me with every fuckup? I’d be out of men in a week. Ask Baal to tell you just how many deals he blew and how many times I had to bail his sorry ass.”

“Well… shit. Now what do I do with the rest of my day?” Mephisto laughed, allowing himself the chance to relax.

“Well I can still strap you to a table and bring out some buzz-saws if you want.” Azazel shrugged before laughing.

“Kinky, but I must refuse.”

“Don’t get too comfortable though, you said Baal’s taken your explosives, right?”

“That's right.”

“I want you to go down there, start searching some more now that you can go deeper. Every weekday until you get something we can damn use.” Azazel said, taking a puff of his cigarette. “Dismissed, you’re free to pass by the office only when you get something. I don’t need any reports about nothing for weeks okay?”

“Understood.” Mephisto said, nodding.

“That being said, there’s a bowling tourney this weekend. Want to join me and some boys?”

“Will Baal come too?”

“Unfortunately.”

Mephisto sighed. “Damn, well I’ll come anyway. Place on Ink street right?”

“That’s the one.” Azazel answered. By now he had walked back behind his desk, sitting and typing away at his laptop.

“Alright, see you then.” Mephisto said, walking out of the office.

He sauntered down the hall and the stairs, not too big of a fan of the elevator. Enclosed spaces made him a little uncomfortable, thankfully it wasn’t anything too off-putting. The inanimaliat walked past some cubicles, nodding at the other people and demons that actually saw him and bothered to nod at him. He rushed out of the station and walked towards the bus stop.

It was a ways away, and the air was cold and biting. Autumn had rolled on, and the wind and chill had picked up significantly compared to the torrid summer warmth of the past. Mephisto did not mind. He just walked, stern-faced and unabated from his path. He finally reached the bus stop, a curious place that he was surprised to learn was the only one of its kind in this neighborhood.

Hope the bus doesn’t take an hour to arrive like last time. He thought.

As the weeks went by, Mephistopheles settled into a routine, and that bus stop became more of a home to him than the apartment he actually lived in. It was almost always empty, him being the only person that needed the, usually late, bus. Line five, which would lead him downtown to the outer rim of Deterna. There, he’d take the first subway entrance past the Harmonica, a small fast food restaurant he occasionally grabbed some sandwiches from. Down the steps, a left, and then two rights. Ticket counter straight ahead, followed by the gates.

The cashier, a young gentleman that Mephisto eventually realized was from Luna Scota, like one of Azazel’s demons, would always try to sell him on a weekly ticket. Mephisto always refused. He always hoped that today, today would be the last day he’d need a ticket. The dry stench of the graffitied walls, the long and boring ride all the way to Starfall Park, today would be the last day he’d have to endure them.

There he’d go down the tunnels towards the unused line, following all the construction equipment and men in safety gear that acted as decoys to any that would dare take a closer look. Every day he’d dress up in that same gear, with a flashlight and a walkie-talkie at his belt. Then he’d go down and down and down into the depths of the necrotic city below, picking up where he left off, or inspecting some new hole that had been exploded open during the night. A labyrinthine maze that he almost got lost in several times. Every day he searched, hoping to find something, anything, but he never did. Today, almost five weeks after he’d started searching these tunnels, today was going to be the day that would change everything.

“Afternoon, Mephisto.” A short, bald man said as he approached without looking up from his clipboard.

“Hi Amleto. Did they finish up western block J last night?” He answered.

“J, K and L actually, we got somewhat lucky that the other blocks were completely collapsed, there wasn’t anything to find in any of them.”

“Guess its onto M then. Lucky me.” Mephisto said, kneeling down and crawling through the opening in the floor. He crawled further through a tight tunnel that eventually led in a large open cavern. He followed the signs that had been posted, until he finally got to the corridor that was named “M”. Flashlight in hand, he went inside.

These depths were so strange to him. The rocks that formed the walls had a shape and texture that bore a certain familiarity. They reminded him of hell, but they were cold, void, empty. The hell he remembered was always alive with the scorching flames of torment, and screams of the damned, the screams he racked out of the souls he got his claws on. Not here. The rock was cold, uncaring and nothing could be heard aside from the distant footsteps and chatter of his other spelunker colleagues. But as he followed the trail, hands touching the icy stone, he suddenly touched something that felt different.

“What’s this?” He said, yanking his hand back and shining his light on it. It wasn’t uncommon for small critters or insects to occasionally break the monotony of this place. Spiders were the most common to be found. Mephisto was not concerned by or afraid of them, but he generally tried to keep his hands away whenever possible. This however was not a spider, nor a millipede, nor a small dead rat or anything else he’d encountered during these past weeks. Mephisto saw something that made him stare aghast. Something not right, an object ripped from its rightful place that belonged anywhere but in this foul abyss. His trembling hand reached into the crevice, pulling out the object that just barely stuck out.

A… feather?

Between his fingers was a large feather of a pale white that shone silver everytime he passed his light over it. Even in the dark, the feather seemed to glow ethereally as if it had some of its own bioluminescent energy. It felt soft in his fingers, yet when he ran his fingers over its edge he felt it cut into his skin, drawing a droplet of red. Mephisto stared, slack jawed at it.

This… this is it. He thought. This has to be it. In all my years in hell and all my time on earth, I’ve never seen any animal, anyone, have anything… like this. Its… beautiful… The more he stared at the feather, the more his mind wandered, probing, searching, questioning the threaded memories that it touched upon. It was all a blur, an indecipherable mess.

A feather, a smile, a red dagger. Everything faded, and he was back in the cave. He rushed, taking out a plastic bag with a trembling hand and delicately placing the feather inside it. With a quick deep breath, he rushed back through the tunnel, running as hard as he could.

“I FOUND IT!” He yelled as he burst through Azazel’s office door.

Azazel spun around in his office seat, looking up from his leather-bound tome. His eyes held a glimmer of excitement, one that Mephisto had not seen in a long time. “Go on. Share with the class, what’d you find?” He asked.

Mephisto walked inside, throwing the little plastic bag on his desk. “A trail. You said bring you anything that your hounds can use, well this is it.”

Azazel leaned forward, his hand snatching the little bag and putting it up against the pallid sunlight that trickled in through the window. “You sure this is it?”

“Yes. I felt it the moment I touched it.”

“You felt it? Interesting. I didn’t know we were working off of voodoo vibes now.” Azazel snarked back.

“Shut the fuck up. This is it, the angel we’re looking for. I’m sure of it.” Mephisto pushed back, crossing his hands.

Azazel stood up from his seat. “Very well, follow me.” He said.

“Where to?”

“The Kennels.”

The two demons walked out of the station and straight into Azazel’s car. A few minutes of reckless, lawless driving later, they both walked out into one of the outer districts of the city. Before them loomed a tall, imposing building. It looked incredibly elegant, reminding Mephisto of the Baronesses’ restaurant. While this building was opulent no doubt, it was more subdued, more calm and subtle. The exterior was a warm reddish hue that didn’t pop out, accentuated by shades of pleasant brown and black, as well as glowing decorative lights. True to Azazel’s word’s the building had the title The Kennels spelled out in large neon letters along the edge. Underneath them was a symbolic depiction of what Mephisto assumed to be a pitbull. He remembered seeing a similar picture in a newspaper.

“This is a hotel.” Mephisto said as they walked inside.

“That’s right.“ Azazel answered. All the while he let the front desk know he had arrived and was going to the lower levels.

“Isn’t that… a dumb idea?” Mephisto asked, being vague around other people. When he got in the elevator he continued. “I mean, why hide a bunch of dangerous uncontrollable monsters in the same place where people might want to stay for a night?”

Azazel had a glazed, smug expression on his face. He leaned his head at Mephisto, taking a moment to gloat at him before he explained. “The hotel is a cover. People from all over the country come here, often. Its a good, four star restaurant, high quality, brings some profit on the side, and best part, no one suspects a thing. No one currently fucking or snorting coke off of mirrors in the upper floors has any idea that under the basement, beneath like five stories of pure lead and concrete, there’s an entire sprawling dungeon. The best part about this is that on the top floors, all the penthouse suits are mine.” He giggled. “And you better believe your pal Azzy has a lifetime subscription to his own hotel.”

Mephisto frowned. He looked up at the elevator, seeing it go down and down. “So, all this time you had a luxurious hotel, and you let me live in some shitty five meter by five meter long apartment?”

“Yep.” Azazel said, not even taking a second to think about it. The elevator dinged and as he stepped out, he added. “But hey, think about this, if that feather really works, you might just get yourself a lifetime subscription as well. Doesn’t that reward make all those days in the sewers seem… that much more worth it?”

Mephisto pondered for a moment. He was unable to come up with an appropriate response that didn’t allow Azazel to gloat further. Thankfully, he didn’t need to, as after a few minutes of walking whatever thoughts he had were wiped. He looked into the prison-like hallway and was greeted by a myriad of abominations. They lunged forward, held back by the thick iron bars and the safety glass that overlapped their tombs.

“What the hell…” Mephisto whispered at the sight of them.

Azazel whistled, and from the darkness of the corridor came a tortured, broken man. His body was covered in brutal, still pulsing and bleeding scars, and he wore a black hood over his head. It was very restrictive, and Mephisto could hear this man wheezing through the thick cloth.

“Open the door to this one. Quickly now.” He barked without caring.

It was at that moment that Mephisto realized there was no door to these cells. Curious, he took a step closer and watched. The hooded man began chanting in a strange manner as he took out a small bloody shiv from his loincloth. He picked a point on his body and sliced his skin open. Not deep, but enough for rivers of blood to start flowing. He bathed his hands in it, staining them red. Then, he began drawing strange runes on the glass with his bloody fingers.

Mephisto peered closer. Blood magic was all too familiar to him. It was one of his favorite tools of torture in the depths of hell. While he knew from earlier encounters that it was common-use by demons up above, it was still surprising for him to witness Azazel using it so carelessly. The hooded man’s mad chanting crescendoed, until his unholy magic caused the glass to shatter along the middle. The shards vanished and the broken edges of the glass sanded off to perfect straightness. The iron bars also melted away, creating a somewhat massive but nonetheless door-shaped form in the cell wall.

“That’ll be all.” Azazel said, stepping inside. The wretch slunk back, stumbling to its loathsome corner while tending to its new wound. “You should stay out, Mephisto. This guy doesn’t like new company.”

As if on queue, a deep, guttural growl resounded from the shadows of the cell. Azazel whistled a soft, brief yet haunting melody. It calmed the beast within, and Mephisto could spy a singular, beady eye opening and shining in the darkness. Azazel pulled out the evidence bag, taking the feather from it and throwing it on the ground. A long-clawed, rotted hand, with thin, almost skeletal flesh reached forward and pulled the item, dragging it into its lair. A snarl erupted, followed by intense sniffing.

“Let's see if this angel of yours can hide from us any longer.” Azazel said, followed by him cackling madly.

Constantine was the first to wake up. He stumbled off of the bed, careful not to wake Nikolai from her deep, snoring sleep. He dragged himself to the bathroom and then to the kitchen, passing by Evan who was fast asleep on Nikolai’s extended couch. He poured himself some coffee, yawning and trying to shake himself awake.

Then he turned out to the kitchen balcony, and saw a figure whose existence almost completely left his mind. Immediately, the hazy dream-like memories of the previous night flooded back, and he nearly tripped as he rushed out. A quick knock on the door to not startle her, and he walked outside. Uriel was sitting on the balcony railing, dangling her legs over as she hummed a light tune to herself.

“I was gonna say I really hope no one saw you, but I guess it doesn’t matter today.” Constantine chuckled. “Morning, did you sleep well?”

“You still worry too much, Constantine.” Uriel said, spinning around and smiling. Her pale skin and wide silver wings seemed to glow in the pleasantly chill morning sun. “But no, I didn’t sleep all that much.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. I just… don’t feel tired anymore. I’ve slept for so long, everytime I try to sleep again I can only do so for a couple hours at most.”

“So did you just spend the whole night out here?” He asked, taking a sip from his cup.

“Yep, just watched the people, the… cars you mentioned, and I stared at the sky.” Uriel seemed a bit dejected. “I looked for the stars in the sky, and the crescent moon above, but they’re so difficult to see here. So faded and cloudy.”

Constantine nodded in quiet understanding. “That’s just the unfortunate life in the city. All the light we make… makes it difficult to see the light that was always there.” He waxed poetically, taking another sip.

“What is it you drink?” Uriel asked innocently.

“Coffee. Do you want to try some?” He answered.

“Sure.”

Constantine placed his cup on the nearby glass table. He then sat up from his small chair and rushed back into the kitchen. Seconds later, he emerged with a fresh cup.

“Here!” He said beaming with a joyous smile. In his hand was a cherry-colored cup on a small serving plate. “Careful, its hot.”

“Yes, thank you. Oh what a lovely chalice, it's so small” She exclaimed as she examined it further. Her voice echoed with a whispery, lower second voice that made Constantine shiver whenever she spoke. He watched, amused, as she inspected the black liquid in her little chalice. How her face turned into one of worry as she blew some air before taking a quick sip. Uriel then coughed loudly and put the cup down.

“Its so… so, bitter!” She said, wiping her mouth, her face filled with disgust. “How can you drink this?”

“Well that's whole point, really...” Constantine answered, taking a big gulp before putting his coffee down. “We need the bitterness, that’s what gives us energy. What wakes us up. Its what gives it taste and flavor. If you don't like it, you don't have to drink it.” He continued, reaching for her cup.

“Its, its quite alright actually.” She said nervously, stopping his hand. Uriel then picked up the cup and gave coffee another try. “It definitely clears any sleepiness one might have. Its not half bad now that I try it some more…” She added. “By the way, why did you answer in plural?”

“That’s just cause we’re all a bunch of hopeless caffeine addicts.” Another voice answered, stepping out on the balcony. It was Evan, who had poured himself some coffee as well and seemed to be chugging it almost, despite its heat. Uriel was mildly horrified. “You should have seen Constantine when he was addicted to energy drinks.”

“I don’t know what that is.” She stated.

“Poison.” Constantine answered. “It was poison.”

“You were willingly drinking poison?”

Both of the guys laughed. Uriel chuckled as well, not wanting to be left out.

“No, it's a drink kind of like this but absolutely much more awful for your body.” Evan explained. “Now that you say it like that though, willingly drinking poison, like alcohol, seems to be a common past-time to humans. Huh, never thought about it like that.”

“Alcohol… I believe I am familiar with that…” Uriel said.

“You are?” They both asked, eager to hear more.

“I… maybe? I don’t remember much, but I feel like I encountered others that would drink it… in the past. Who knows when that was.” She continued, even more dejected.

“Ahem, Is Nikolai up yet?” Constantine asked Evan, changing the subject.

“Yeah, she’s cleaning up some of the stuff from last night.”

“And you didn’t help her, you clown?” Constantine retorted, almost jumping from his seat if Evan hadn’t stopped him with a hand.

“She insisted she do it herself. Don’t worry clown, I cleaned up a bunch last night when you all went to sleep.” Evan nodded, taking another sip. “Speaking of sleep, I swear I thought I went on the floor last night, but today I woke up on the couch.”

“I put you there!” Uriel said, triumphantly. “It didn’t seem right for you to sleep on the floor especially when I didn’t sleep anymore.”

The two of them stared at Uriel, slightly bewildered. “You… carried me without waking me up at all, how?” Evan asked.

“I am powerful!” Uriel said, beaming with pride.

“To be fair Evan, you do tend to sleep like a log.” Constantine chuckled.

“Whatever screw you guys. J-just kidding.” Evan said, realizing Uriel might not appreciate him being so chummy so quickly. “I’m gonna shut up, finish this coffee then get ready to leave.”

“Where are you going?” Uriel asked.

“We’re gonna get dressed up, and then we’ll all meet downtown later.” Constantine explained. “We’re going to that church and seeing what that priest says about you, if anything.”

“Yeah, and my costume is at home.” Evan said, downing the last of his coffee and bolting.

“We might get some food first Evan, you want something?” Constantine asked, but his friend was already out. “Alright then.”

Constantine stared as the door slammed in his face and he was left on the outside. He changed right there in the hallway, since it was out of sight of anyone. Thankfully, it was a simple costume. He only had to change his shirt and put on yesterday’s jeans.

The two of them then went inside, running into Nikolai and exchanging morning pleasantries. Nikolai seemed quite chipper, though she was still somewhat twitchy around Uriel. Something about staring into her new acquaintances’ snowy eyes made her body tremble. Was it just simple nervousness, or some sort of deeper, instinctual fear? Whatever the case, things quickly moved past that. Nikolai took Constantine to her room, leaving Uriel to watch television in the living room.

“What’re we doing?” Constantine asked, sitting down on the bed.

“Getting our costumes ready.”

“But… my costume is also at home. I was gonna go get it.”

“I… know…” Nikolai struggled, as she searched through her large wardrobe. “Thankfully, you left last year’s at my place, remember. You never asked for it back. Here.” She said, throwing a big pile of white clothes in his direction, smacking him in the head. She giggled. “Now get out. I gotta get mine ready.”

Oh yeah… this old thing. He thought to himself, as he pulled a dark hoodie over himself. The hoodie was long to his knees and colored a very saturated white with the occasional red blood-spatter. Part of it was an article of clothing, the rest a sort of pale veil that was draped over him.

“I’m done.” He said, waiting for Nikolai to finish. Strange banging and thumping noises were heard inside, and moments later the door opened. Before him was Nikolai, clad in a not so traditional witch’s outfit. A tight black corset and leather vest with an orange and black striped shirt underneath. On her waist was a skirt that draped over her left leg, longer on that side and decorated with cobwebs, spiders and other creepy crawlies. Under that she wore a pair of thigh-highs, with the same design as her shirt. Lastly, her prime article was the wide, tall and pointy witch’s hat that she wore.

“How do I look?” She asked, beaming.

Constantine was at a loss for words briefly, before he remembered what his tongue and vocal cords were good for. “Y-you look amazing! I thought you’d be wearing that spooky mask though?”

“I changed my mind, since we’ll be running around I thought it’d get tiresome. I sprung for a little make-up instead.” She said, flashing the right side of her face. Her eye was painted with a deep shadow and black liner, and her lips were a gorgeous bright red. “Besides, today’s the one day I don’t have to wear my eyepatch and people look at me in amazement than… you know.”

“I always look at you in amazement.” Constantine said immediately without any hesitation.

Nikolai’s cheek turned a deep red, and not from the foundation. She immediately changed the subject, dragging him inside. “Okay, your turn to get some make-up.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I gotta make you look scawy.” She said, teasing him. Nikolai proceeded to add a deep, black shade around Constantine's eyes and nose, as well as giving his entire face a greatly pale complexion. Lastly, she finished by adding some black lines over his mouth and chin, completing the look and making him look very skull-like. When the two of them were completely finished, they returned to the living room with a triumphant pep in their steps. “Tada!” They both said to Uriel. “How do we look?”

The angel stared at them, tilting her head to the right. “Very… colorful.” She said blankly.

“I’m dressed as a witch, and he’s a ghost.” Nikolai explained.

“A ghost? A witch!” Uriel said in amazement. “Can you do magic?”

“N-no Uriel, its just tradition here during today. We dress up as supernatural things. Even things like you, like angels!”

“People dress up like me? Woah…” She said, with a twinkling sparkle of amazement in her pale eyes.

“Yes, which is why I’m gonna ask you if you can follow me.”

“W-why?”

“I need to make you look good for your birthday, no?”

Uriel was surprised, and then she became incredibly excited. She obediently followed Nikolai back to her room. Constantine was left alone, and he sat down on the couch taking Uriel’s spot. He flipped through the T.V. channels, passing over fun Halloween news, random movies, music channels and other things before stopping on a cartoon. He laughed, it was an episode he’d watched several times but always managed to land for him.

A few minutes later, the girls returned. Constantine was once again amazed. Uriel had a very light black liner around her eyes that made her pallid irises pop. Her cheeks were given a pleasant rosy tint, and her lips were freshened up with some very appealing shades of blue lipstick that merged well with the natural shade of her lips. She wore her blue robe, which was adjusted with a couple clever safety pins. Nikolai turned it from a lengthy, boring blue cloth to a nice shorter skirt that made walking less of a hazard. Constantine couldn’t help but notice the bright, white thigh-highs that Uriel wore.

“Holy shit, you really look great Uriel! Happy birthday!”

“She really looks great, doesn’t she?” Nikolai cooed, proud of her work.

“You did great work on all three of us, babe.” Constantine added. “We should get going, Evan will be waiting for us.”

The trio collected any final items they needed before they closed the apartment and left on a new adventure. They decided to walk rather than taking Nikolai’s car. Along the way, they immediately encountered many costumed people, parents with their kids, friend groups like theirs, or just random solitary individuals on route to other places. Many compliments were shared between them, with a few even offering to share pictures. Constantine enjoyed himself, and it seemed like Nikolai and Uriel were as well. It quickly became apparent just how much passersby were amazed by Uriel’s ‘costume’.

“Amazing.” A random werewolf-dressed man said, running his glove-less hand over her feathers gently. “You made these yourself?”

“Uh…” Uriel looked back and forth between her and her friends, unsure what to say. “Y-yeah?”

“Sorry, but we’re late somewhere, see ya!” Constantine intervened, pulling her away.

“How strange this all is.” Uriel said once they were out of earshot.

“How so?” Constantine asked.

“All these things I thought to be dangerous, monstrous creatures, you humans just act as if they’re things to be laughed at.”

“Well, I don’t think anyone knows or… believes wolfmen or demons or ghosts are real. And I hope to God you’re not implying they are.”

“No… worse things as well I suppose.” She said ominously.

Nikolai and Constantine both gulped in fear. The walk turned silent, with fewer interruptions along the way. Eventually, they made their way to a small restaurant and their enjoyment returned as well. Uriel looked at the name above the door.

“Saraid’s Streetwise Brewery. What does that mean?” She asked.

“I don’t really know. Its just a name, but this place is great, they make some of the best hamburgers and sandwiches in town.” Nikolai explained to her. “We sometimes come over here on weekends after school and enjoy a good meal in good company.”

“What’s a ham-burger?”

“Its… like two buns of bread with a patty of meat and sauces in between. Oftentimes comes with cheese and other accutrama.”

“I just got a text from Evan, he wants a wrap too.” Constantine smirked. “He’ll be here in a bit.”

“I must admit, I am quite hungry. Aside from your last-night meal Nikolai, I can’t remember the last time I ate.” Uriel confessed.

“Girl, you need to take better care of yourself.” Nikolai said, nodding. “You gotta eat more regularly, and stay healthy. Get her a toasted panini, Consty.”

“My angelic metabolism makes it so I can go long stretches of time without water or nutrition, food is more of a pleasurable activity I can partake in. Though I will admit, after sleeping for as long as I have, even I can get hungry.” Uriel said, nonchalantly.

Nikolai and Constantine both looked at her, amazed and bewildered. “Lucky you. I… stand corrected.” She said.

“I’m surprised you know what a metabolism is Uriel, frankly I’m not sure I know.” Constantine confessed.

“I told you, I’m not stupid, just… unfamiliar.”

“I’ll go inside and order some food. Go find a table.” He said, bolting away like the phantom he was.

“Are we sitting outside?” He heard Uriel ask.

Nikolai nodded. “Its quite warm and nice, why not?”

“Sounds good!”

When Constantine returned a few minutes later, carrying a tray of delicious piping hot food and cool soothing drinks, he found the girls chatting eagerly. Nikolai was explaining some more things about the world around them and the nature of the holiday, to the best of her ability.

“Tada! Let's dig in!” He said, excitedly biting in his sandwich. The tray had four similar looking sandwiches alongside a drink each. Constantine explained that he got everyone some rotisserie chicken paninis, toasted, with cheese, bacon, some peppers and other ingredients. “Mine’s without peppers.” He explained.

“Why not?” Uriel asked.

“I hate peppers.” He answered.

“He hates anything even remotely spicy.” Nikolai clarified with a giggle before she bit into her sandwich. “Like tomatoes.”

Both of them waited with quiet breath to see how Uriel would react to her first bite. The angel was cautious, blowing to cool the piping heat of the sandwich. She followed Nikolai’s motions, biting into the crunchy bread and chewing intensely. Her eyes went wide as she savored the exquisite new taste. “Wow! This is so good!” She yelled.

“Hell yeah!” Nikolai and Constantine exclaimed in understanding.

“I thought I ordered a wrap, ah, ah, ah!” A familiar voice startled the trio. They all turned, seeing Evan dressed like a vampire. He was covered by a long black cape with a popped collar that almost went over his head. Only his right arm was visible, his left tucked away inside his costume. As he sat at the table, they were able to see the fancy shirt and vest he wore, as well as the fake vampire teeth and the light make-up he had applied to make himself paler. “Delicious, I hope there’s no garlic in this, ah, ah, ah!” He laughed, putting on a stereotypical vampire accent.

“Oh I know!” Uriel laughed. “Evan is dressed like a Thalesai, right?” She asked, eagerly waiting for an answer from everyone. All she got were blank stares.

“Tha… leh… n-no Uriel, I’m just a vampire.” Evan said meekly, dropping the accent.

"What's that?" Uriel asked

"A sort of blood-sucking creature of the night. With funny accents, ah ah ah!" Evan laughed.

Uriel pouted. “That’s what a thalesai is! Bloodsucking demons of the desert and sea! Although looking at you closer, you don’t have nearly enough bioluminescent lights on your skin.” She said, casually going back to enjoying her tasty meal, while everyone else stared at her in shock.

Evan leaned closer to Nikolai and Constantine. “Is she… implying vampires are real?” He asked, his voice a whisper.

“She’s been doing that all day about almost every costume she’s seen.” Nikolai said.

“Yeah, I’m just kinda rolling with it at this point.” Constantine laughed awkwardly. Uriel looked back at them with an innocent head tilt.

The group continued eating their food, laughing and chatting and enjoying each other’s company. Slowly, Constantine felt that Uriel was becoming more and more comfortable and relaxed with their presence. He was happy. His eyes drifted over his friends, the table, and the leftovers on it, and he locked eyes with a small being on his right. A small child, dressed like a bee, staring at him curiously.

“Hey there little guy, can I help you?” He asked.

“Momma!” The child said, turning back to his parent who was rushing over to him.

“Sorry, sorry! He just really liked your costumes and wandered off. Enjoy your meal!” She said, trying to drag the child away gently, but he refused.

“No its alright, we’re almost done anyway. Hey buddy, wanna take a picture?” Constantine offered, and the child’s face lit up. Moments later, his mother had set up her phone, and took a pic of her child next to Constantine, with both making a scary face and pose. Afterwards, the child walked over to Nikolai, all but demanding one too.

“Haha, sure!” She laughed. Their picture had a more elegant, imposing expression and pose from both of them. The kid was giggling with a large toothy grin. Next, he strolled over to Evan, who was already waiting for him.

“Bah, ah, ah! You will make a fine thrall for my collection!” Evan said, joking around with the child. Their picture was a purely goofy one, each crossing their eyes and sticking out their tongues in weird directions. Many laughs were had, but as the child approached the final member of the group, things quickly turned quiet.

“Hello.” Uriel said, her voice echoing unnaturally. “You’re such a cute bee!” Her eyes stared, unblinking at the child, and he was hesitating. A few moments of mutual staring and the kid began to wail, crying inconsolably as he ran back to his mother. Uriel blinked, confused. “D-did I do something?” She said with a glum stare on her face. Constantine waved the mother off, apologizing for making her child cry as she tried to console him. Meanwhile, Nikolai desperately tried to keep herself from laughing at the situation, while Evan failed and laughed heartily.

“Its alright Uriel, some people just aren’t good with kids. Don’t sweat it.” Evan snorted through the final bites of his food. This encouragement did little to alleviate the long shadow that draped over Uriel’s face.

“We should… get going.” Constantine chuckled. “Before any more kids show up.” He teased.

After their meals, the gang made their way to Starfall Park. Along the way, Uriel’s shattered mood was mended by her friends, and whatever slight scars remained vanished when she saw the state of the park. Bright orange lights danced through the decorated trees alongside the twinkling bulbs from all the machines and rollercoasters in the distance of the park. The joyous sounds of people and children dancing and playing filled the air and could be heard out for miles. Uriel was stunned.

“W-when I first escaped the tunnels, I found myself in this park. It was so empty at night. It looks… so different now.” She said, amazed by the sights and wonders.

“Yeah we need to go past to get to the… church. Guys?” Evan said, noticing he’d been left alone. Uriel walked forward, entranced by everything and Nikolai was on her trail keeping a close eye on her. Constantine turned around with a shrug.

“The church is open all night, we can go there later. Come on, let's show her around.” He said, excitement flowing through him as well.

Evan sighed, and relented.

The first place they stopped at was a bumper car ride. Uriel watched in awe as the people crashed into each other violently, yelling and screaming and cackling wildly at the chaos. Naturally, Constantine suggested they ride, and everyone agreed. Even Evan, who was still hesitant about everything.

“You sure you can ride with your wings?” One of the cashiers asked when he saw Uriel.

“I’ll be fine, I’m not made of glass!” She said, smiling cheekily. The cashier was confused, but didn’t think much of it.

After they all got inside a car, the hyperactive voice on the speakers began to blare. “R-r-ready to smash and crash? Get set, three, two, one, GO!” It shouted, and loud booming music began to play. Uriel was completely lost, but she followed Constantine’s instructions and pressed the gas pedal. Immediately the gang all began crashing into each other, slamming rubber against rubber and laughing as they were thrust forward against the steering wheels.

Constantine looked around, trying to gauge how Uriel was doing. She was driving like a maniac, turning the wheel all the way right, then all the way left again, sometimes going backwards. But through it all he saw her laugh loudly, having a good time. He found a good angle, and decided to enjoy himself as well, crashing into her from the side and guffawing at her reaction.

“How dare you!” She said, gasping. Immediately she circled around, trying to get him back, but accidentally bumping some innocent strangers. “I’m so sorry! It was his fault!”

Constantine, Evan and Nikolai all laughed with pure joyful glee. Their hearts were alight with the spark of exhilarating youthfulness. Their laughing continued even as the machines came to a halt, and the round had ended.

“Oh man… that was great.” Constantine said, wiping tears from his eyes.

“My knees hurt.” Uriel said, limping closer to the group. She had a bright, full grin on her face. “That was still amazing however!”

“Its not a bumper car ride if you don’t wake up sore in the morning.” Nikolai said. “Where next?” She asked, but Uriel was already gone. She’d dashed over to a carnival game stand, watching people throw baseballs at bottles in the distance. She pointed at the stand, hopping on her tippy-toes. Her wings fluttered with excitement, which earned her some mesmerized looks from passersby.

“She’s just like that kid, hah.” Constantine laughed before they all approached her.

“C’mon Uriel, these games are a scam.” Evan said, rolling his eyes as he watched another person fail to knock the glass bottles.

“I assure you kind misses and misters, this game is anything but a scam!” The mustached gentleman behind the stand assured them, putting on his little act. “Here’s a deal, one free throw for each of you, as proof of my good will and the sanctity of the game. Would the Count enjoy the pleasure of going first?” He said, waving his hands towards the bottles.

Evan rolled his eyes. He unfurled his cape, letting his left hand be more loose of clothing. He then picked up the soft ball with it and aligned himself. The perfect shot, he angled himself, arched his arm back, and fired, missing completely. Everyone laughed, and even Uriel couldn’t stop herself from giggling.

“My good man, you have to actually hit the bottles to have a shot.” The cashier said, adding salt on his wound.

“Yeah yeah, piss off.” Evan said, slumping back behind everyone.

Nikolai was next, and she managed to do a lot better. Her aim was dead on, but she only managed to knock over one bottle.

“Damn it.” She smacked her lips, moving back to her spot. Along the way she stuck her tongue out at Evan, and he reciprocated.

“My turn then.” Constantine said, walking up and grabbing one of the softballs. He aimed, and threw as hard as he could. The bottles only wobbled, but none of them fell. “Ugh… crap.” He said, dejected. “You’re up, Uriel.”

The angel had watched everyone intently so far, studying their throws and how the bottles acted when the balls hit them. She was barely able to contain her bubbling excitement, her left hand trembling as she reached for the final ball. She took a deep breath, arcing herself and unleashing a devastating throw. The ball whizzed through the air at an absurd speed, shattering all three bottles outright. Even more incredible was how the ball embedded itself into the drywall behind the bottles. Everyone had a blank, slack jawed stare except for her.

“Does that mean I win something?” She said calmly, drawing a dirt-circle around herself with her foot.

A few moments later, the group walked down along the main avenue. Each of them had an icecream cone in hand, but only Uriel had a decently-sized plush raven in her other hand. She was also the only person eating her treat. Everyone else just continued to stare in sheer disbelief at her.

“I guess you really… are powerful?” Constantine said, finally breaking the ice again.

“What other powers do you have, if any?” Nikolai asked.

Uriel stopped eating her ice-cream and turned away. Constantine didn’t see well, but he thought for a moment her face was covered in shame. “Nothing else. I would rather not talk about it, please.”

“Very well. No pressure.” Constantine said.

They all walked some more, passing by a few other carnival games and pausing for every single one. They all decided to disallow Uriel from participating in any other strength-based games, for fear of drawing some unnecessary attention. Uriel did not mind, as she seemed to enjoy herself greatly anyway with the more random or dexterity based games along the way.

She paused suddenly, stopping in front of a small enclosure. There, people were huddled in a group around someone on a small stage. A big television beside them kept flashing words. Constantine looked at Uriel, trying to discern what she was thinking. She seemed deep in thought as they both listened to the song.

“That sound… so strange. Yet so beautiful. It reminds me of… home.” She said softly. “But how, or why I don’t know. Home… where even is it?”

Constantine silently smiled. “Do you sing, Uriel?”

“I… don’t know?” She said meekly, her wings slumping somewhat melancholically.

“Would you like to try out the karaoke machine?” Constantine asked. “I bet you have a lovely voice.”

“P-perhaps another time.” Uriel said, turning away embarrassed. At that moment, Evan and Nikolai rejoined them, having both taken a small break.

“I was thinking we could try the ferris wheel next, Uriel’s wings might be too big for some of the other coasters.” Nikolai suggested.

“We could also try and make our way to the church?” Evan suggested. “Just saying, don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Stop spoiling the fun, Evan.” Nikolai said, furrowing her brow and rolling her eyes.

“I’m not, I'm just… y'know, keeping our primary goal in mind.”

The two continued arguing, but Constantine failed to hear them. He turned to Uriel, who seemed distraught about something. At that moment, before he got the chance to ask, his ears had picked up a low grunting sound in the far distance of the avenue. It was accompanied by a loud, wheezing, dreadful noise. It was like a dog that had been brutally beaten half to death, now trying to bark again.

He froze, the warmth of his blood draining away as he saw the fearsome shadow in the distance. The crowd parted, making way for the beast to approach. Their faces were free of fear or concern, just amazement at the incredible halloween decoration. But Constantine knew, he felt the danger that was approaching, the horrible danger everyone was in. His skin trembled with goosebumps as the monstrous visage approached, entering the light and becoming more discernible.

It was a gigantic, black-furred wolven monstrosity, sniffing away at the ground as it tracked its prey. Its head was that of a rabid dog, with massive antlers that arched forward and only one massive yellow eye in the dead center of its face. Its long snout was absent a bottom lip, revealing an abundance of decayed, razor fangs as drool and spit fell in thick globules from its chin. Its back legs were short and muscular, ending in unkempt hooves, while its front limbs were disgustingly long and thin, almost skeletal. They reached and pawed at the ground with the human-like hands at the end of each one. Each appendage was as big as the creature’s head, adorned by repulsive black claws drenched in blood and guts.

“Run.” Constantine said. With one hand he pushed against Evan and Nikolai, grabbing their attention, with the other he yanked Uriel by the arm, snapping her from her hypnotic fear. “Run, NOW!”

The beast charged. It tore across the asphalt, just barely avoiding some innocent passersby from being trampled. The group all fled, running as fast as their legs could take them. The dreadful howl signaled their approaching death, but a junction in the park road proved to be their escape.

“Go, left!” Constantine shouted, and everyone followed. At that instant from the skies crashed down a massive chunk of wood and ruin. He just barely avoided being crushed underneath by stumbling back.

“Constantine!” Nikolai cried out for him.

“I’m okay! Get her out of here!” He yelled back.

“What! Not without you!”

“Just go!” He said, executing his idea. He yanked the cork gun from the half-wrecked stand and loaded it up with pellets. The monster approached, slowing down as it searched and sniffed for its prey. A couple shots hit its fur, falling harmlessly but it was enough to grab its attention. Its long snout turned around in the air, growling furiously as it layed its eye on Constantine. “Yeah! Come here… oh… shit!” He said, dropping the gun and bolting.

He dashed through the carnival roads, now empty of people as all had fled from the hound’s path. After a few perilously close swipes from the beast, he slid across a patch of sand, jumping between some stands. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him through the trees, away from the carnival and the fleeing crowd. The lack of space slowed down the beast significantly, enough for Constantine to gain some distance.

“GROAEEEEERGH!” The monster hissed, enraged by its escaping meal. It lunged forward, tearing down the trees in its path with its massive limbs. It ripped them root and all with barely a thought.

Constantine kept running, sweat pouring down his brow and fear swallowing his every breath. The stench of rot and decay clung to the beast, nauseating him. But still he endured, until his muscles could endure no more. He slipped on a pile of wet leaves, losing his balance and stumbling into the roots of a massive oak tree. He turned around, watching as the beast readied its swipe. Constantine prayed for a quick death as he covered his head with his arms.

But death failed to claim him. Instead, out of nowhere a massive red halberd descended from on high, slicing the creature’s arm clean off as if it was butter. The wolf stumbled back, mewling with a dull shock on its monstrous visage. It grabbed at its profusely bleeding stump and roared once more. This sound was one of desperation and fear at the knight that stood between it and its prey.

Constantine watched through blurry sight as his savior charged through the shadows of the trees, swinging their giant weapon through the air like a feather. Their waist-long silver hair billowed alongside their gray scarf, and both seemed to glow with pallid light. Their movements were swift, precise, and deadly. The beast lunged forward, savagely biting and clawing at nothing but a shadow. The Knight side-stepped with ease, each time their steel blade flashed against the light, more chunks of flesh burst from the creature in a shower of blood. Constantine watched the deadly dance of metal and flesh in pure awe.

One frantic final attack came as the creature lunged forward with bestial wrath pumping through its body. The armored being stabbed the beast’s arm with the spike on their halberd and Constantine saw a soft smirk on their lips. The Reaper pulled its weapon back causing the wolf’s weight and inertia to pull the beast towards its doom. Like a whirling hurricane, they spun on their feet and swung with all their might. The blade found its mark and took the hound’s head clean off. The trees behind it were splattered with showers of unholy blood that rained like a fountain from its neck. The beast’s head rolled across the dirt, stopping in a small crevice of roots before its lifeless body fell with a loud thud on the ground a few seconds later.

“W-what…” Constantine mumbled in shock. He watched as the shadowy figure turned, rushing towards him. He wanted to yell at them, to scream praises and give thanks for saving his life, but at that moment he noticed his breath run shallow and blood pooling on his left side. During the chase, a large wooden shard had embedded itself into him. He looked back at his savior, at that moment getting the first clear view of their face. Beneath the blood that covered her face lay the sight of a girl he knew. Her deathly stare of mismatched eye colors, one red like a blood-stained rose, the other blue like sky after the sun sets, made Constantine stare back in a dazed and confused wonder. Before the last remnants of consciousness faded from his mind, he was able to blurt out a questioning name:

“Katherine?”