Dancing In The Void

Katherine indulged in a well-deserved piece of toast with strawberry jam smeared on it.

It was morning, with pallid sunlight passing through the window of her kitchen. She sat on the counter next to a sink filled with dirty dishes and utensils, munching away. It was part of her chores to clean them, and she was well underway until an emergency called her away. The previous night replayed in her mind, her face covered in blood as she carried an unconscious Constantine away to her mansion.

So much for… staying anonymous. She thought. I wonder if I can somehow convince him to keep quiet about everything.

When Katherine had returned, she quickly had her mother stitch up her new guest. Thankfully, the shard was barely a flesh wound, and the blood he lost made it seem more gruesome than it was. With a sigh of relief, she’d cleaned herself and her armor before passing out, forgetting about the dishes. Now, she was wearing a plain pink undershirt and a pair of comfortable dark blue shorts.

“Agh!” She yelped. Absent-mindedly, she bit the right side of her lower lip while chewing her appetizing breakfast. A droplet of blood trickled down her chin. After a loud swear and a head tilt, Katherine put down her food. She then got off the counter and grabbed a napkin, wiping the blood from her mouth. She ran her tongue over the new wound, but it had immediately stopped bleeding. A perk of her nature she was very thankful for in that moment. Suddenly, she jumped, startled by a tall shadowy figure that had snuck up behind her, sitting uncomfortably close.

“Could you make any less noise when you walk up to someone, huh?” She snapped.

“What are you going to do about him?” Her caretaker said, her unblinking gaze piercing her over her glasses. She pulled a flock of dark hair from her face and continued. “Did he see you yesterday? He’s awake, asking questions.”

“Yes. I guess we’ll have to answer them.” Katherine answered with an air of uncaring coldness.

“What are you going to tell him?”

“The truth, Lily.” Katherine said, walking past her. She stopped, and motioned for her to follow. “You coming? Get me a cup of tea first please.”

With a sigh, she obeyed. The two of them walked into their massive living room, finding a somewhat shocked and confused Constantine. He was holding a warm cup of coffee in his hands, but didn’t seem especially inclined to drink from it. He had never visited her place before, and he was clearly carefully inspecting the house.

It was a very nicely decorated living room, with a lovely glass cabinet filled with sparkling crystal plates, bowls and glasses to his right. On the left wall was a long and tall bookshelf with lots of different tomes and novels on it, all apparently alphabetically arranged. Some were old and dusty while others were new. Katherine wondered if he recognized any, but she imagined most were unheard to him.

“Hello Constantine.” Katherine said as she walked and sat on the couch across from him. She stared at him with her weary eyes, the left black as the night, and the right blue as the sea with gray sclera and dark bags under each of them. She moved some strands of luscious snow-colored hair from her face and coughed, waiting for a response from her guest. She crossed her legs under herself, getting comfortable as she continued waiting.

Her caretaker soon joined them, placing a cup of tea on the coffee-table in front of her first. Then she sat down, leaving a considerable distance between them. Constantine stared at both of them, his face stern and emotionless. A silver clump of hair dangled over his right eye, which he moved away as he finally got the courage to speak.

“Katherine… what… the fuck was that thing last night? How the fuck did you… How did… what even…?” He blabbered, his gaze moving from Katherine and back to the other person. “Sorry for my language but… fuck… I have so many questions running through my head right now you have no idea.

Katherine let out a bored sigh. “You done?” She asked. “Okay, if you want answers you shall have them, but first… I see my careta-” Katherine paused, and coughed feeling a mean glare from the person sitting next to her. “I mean, my mother has given you some coffee. You should drink some, it’ll help with your morning… jitters.”

Constantine responded only with a slightly angry look and a nod. Her intuition was confirmed when he brought the mug to his face and took a sip. “I need to get back to my friends, where’s my phone?”

“I think it was destroyed in the attack darling.” The other woman said. “But your friends are safe, don’t worry. No one was harmed in the beast’s rampage. I see you’ve met my daughter Katherine. You may call her Kath, she loves being called that.”

“Mom…” She sighed.

“Yeah… we’re… classmates. Kath…”

“I am Aliliana Devilsbane. But you may call me Alila if you’d like.”

“Devils… bane. So that’s what the DB stands for… I’m Constantine Sancthos, n-nice meeting you ma’am.” He said, smiling kindly. He moved to stand and shake her hand, but instead decided to take another sip.

“Ok so…” Katherine broke the ice, taking a sip from her tea and leaning back against the couch. “What would you like to know? And please, try to ask the questions in English, it would be most kind.” She smiled fakely.

Constantine opened his mouth, trying to decide which question to begin with. “What was that thing last night?”

“It has many names, some are lost to history, others unsaid out of superstition. We call it a Wendigo for ease. An incredibly dangerous monster with poisoned claws and an astounding sense of smell. Our enemies use them as overgrown bloodhounds, tracking down whatever prey they’re hunting. You, it seems.” Alila answered before Katherine had the opportunity. “This one was overgrown indeed. Most don’t grow that big.”

“That's a… relief?” Constantine asked, unsure if that was good or not.

“You’re lucky my daughter was there in time to save your ass, or that thing would be picking your eyeballs from its teeth.” Alila said grimly. She realized as much given by Constantine’s horrified expression and added a small apology: “Sorry, that was unnecessarily graphic.” She said before pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one.

Katherine shot her mother a deathly stare that would kill a boar on the spot before she turned to Constantine. “Next question.” She demanded.

“W-well uh… what was that weapon you used… how did you swing it around like it was nothing? Are you two some sort of… monster-hunters? You mentioned enemies… w-what enemies?”

Alila started laughing out loud, “Oh, child but who do you think we are? We are nothing more than-” She said before Katherine rudely interrupted her.

“The weapon is a family heirloom. A halberd of great unholy power called The Donkey’s Jawbone. It has been passed down in my… our family since the days of our ancestor Samson, have you heard of him?”

“That thing is a fu-… I mean, urgh, god-damned jawbone? From a donkey?” Constantine remarked, somewhat catching himself from swearing in Alila’s presence. “Also no. I have no idea who that is. You should know I don’t take any history courses.”

“You wouldn’t find him in many history books. Not the real story of his life anyway.” Katherine chuckled. “And no, Constantine, its not an actual jawbone. Its just a name.”

“Oh… that makes it better?” Constantine asked rhetorically. “No, I don’t think it does.” He answered himself.

“Well, no point in boring you with its history. Perhaps this other story is more interesting to you. Samson the Unholy was a demon-hunter, the first of many.” Katherine began, taking another sip of her tea before putting the cup down. “The story goes that in times of great evil and peril, the religious Samson prayed for the power to rid the world of evil. God, or… someone else, listened. He was granted a mark that bestowed upon him the power he sought. The cost… was that his bloodline would be cursed eternally by that same mark.” She said, taking a pause. Her voice was softer, a bit more melancholic as she mentioned this great cost. “Legions of demons were felled before his might, and thus he was granted the name Devilsbane. They say he did it with nothing but a jawbone, and that parts of it were used to craft that halberd.” Katherine finished by pointing at a large cello case that rested against the bookshelf.

“Wow…” Constantine said, but his amazement wasn’t because of anything either of them expected. “I didn’t know you played the cello, Kath.”

“W-what? No, I mean, yes I can play but what? Are you stupid?” Katherine blurted, a concerned look on her face. “Did you hear the story I just said?”

“Yeah I was just messing with you. The guy sounds like a fucking badass. And you saved my life from a giant wolfbeast, so I guess that makes you equally badass.”

“I do what I can…” Katherine said. “Of course, after thousands of years the mark has lost some of its potency, so unlike Samson there hasn't been anyone who could theoretically take an entire army by themselves.” She said, sounding somewhat disappointed even.

“I’d hate to face down an army of… Wendigos alone.” Constantine said, taking a large swig of his coffee.

“You don’t sound… all too surprised or concerned about everything, Mr. Constantine.” Alila pointed out.

“I… had quite the wild halloween weekend. I may still be hungover.” He lied, though not too convincingly. “So, sorry but… this mark, which I’m guessing you both have, what is it? May I see what it looks like?”

The moment he asked the question, Katherine immediately and without hesitation lifted her undershirt. She revealed her small chest, and toned muscular abdomen. Most strikingly was a long black serpent, like a tattoo, that coiled around her stomach before going up and ending on her sternum. Constantine, slightly shocked, forgot for a few seconds that he had a girlfriend at that moment and kept staring. He also didn’t seem particularly disturbed by the fact that the breasts he was staring at belonged to a friend whose mother was right in front of him.

“N-nice ring piercings.” He complimented once he remembered it was rude to stare. As he turned away his gaze he accidentally caught sight of Alila’s piercing stare. He gulped.

“It's always a snake.” Katherine said. “You have to be a descendant of Samson, and you aren't born with the mark, you acquire it somehow during your life, but it's always a snake.”

Constantine nodded. Katherine watched him turn to Aliliana, taking a close look at the viper-like tattoo on her neck. Immediately in his eyes she saw the mote of understanding, but lest he learn too much, she thought up a lie she could sell on the spot. “Sometimes its a scar, sometimes its a birthmark, sometimes its a tattoo, like my mother’s. Mine is… a stain that appeared after…” Katherine paused, hoping that was enough to distract him.

“After, what?” Constantine asked, successfully distracted.

“I’d rather not speak on it.” Katherine answered.

“Alright… why is it a snake if you don’t mind me asking?”

“The serpent is a divine creature. A grand symbol of power and rage, burning eternally in exchange for the path of loneliness. It is said the great creator themselves was one.” Alila answered. Suddenly, a phone rang and she bolted.

Constantine and Katherine looked at each other, exchanging awkward glances. “So…” He began. “Demon-hunter. Cool. I guess demons are real too…”

“Yep.” Katherine said, sipping her tea.

“I recall that halberd being much larger.” Constantine mentioned, looking back at the black cello-case. “How does it fit in there?”

“The halberd was constructed with a special mechanism that allows the handle of the blade to shorten and lengthen at will.” She said. “Similarly, the cello case was constructed to be large enough for a hidden compartment. Enough space for the halberd to fit, and for a cello.”

“So you really can play the cello, Kath?”

“Why does that surprise you so much? Yes.”

“I don’t know… you’re always so distant. So… closed off. I guess I didn’t envision you as a musician. I guess… learning all of this explains a lot.” Constantine said with a nod.

“Its… not a life I would wish on anyone. But one cannot turn away from the fate they were born for.” She said, looking away with a blank gaze. A sly grin crawled on her lips. “At least I can take solace in knowing I strike fear in the hearts of the damned night-creatures. They fear me, they fear the blade of the Huntress. And I will cull them all. I will rid the world of their foul presence if its the last thing I do.”

“Wow… that sounds… difficult, Kath. But I wish you good luck.” Constantine said with a worried look on his face as he leaned back against the couch. "You remind me of someone I once knew. You know? She was a willstrong lady just like you, I… liked her, I looked up to her.”

Katherine cursed under her breath. “Sorry, I got carried away there. As you may imagine, I… don’t have many friends. Socializing isn’t my forte.”

“No its alright I-” He said, but was quickly interrupted when Alila walked back in with an aggressive step and pointed a gun at his face.

“Mom!” Katherine shouted, jumping from her couch. “What the fuck?”

“Jesus FUCK!” Constantine yelled, splaying down on the couch with his hands up. A sharp pain in his side caused his left hand to lower towards his wound, but fear made him keep it up.

“Tell me everything you know about the angel, right now.” Alila said without missing a beat.

“A-angel?” He echoed, afraid.

“What are you talking about Lily?” Katherine demanded.

“I just learned that the Wendigo that you killed was part of a pack that Azazel sent on a hunt for the angel. They found a lead.”

“You’re saying…” Katherine turned to her guest. Her eyes had a blank deathly stare. “Constantine?”

“S-stop pointing that gun at me, please!” He yelped. When Alila didn’t relent, Katherine walked over and put her hand on the gun, forcefully moving it away.

“Constantine, listen to me very carefully. I fear killing the beast may have put a very dangerous demon on the move.” She quietly told him. “We know that an angel has been sighted a few nights ago in the outskirts of the city. More importantly, we’ve known that two demons named Azazel and Mephistopheles have been hunting it for a long time. We don’t know much about the other, but Azazel… that demon…” Katherine bit her lip, and closed her eyes, letting the rage that swelled within her pass. “I’ve been hunting him for most of my life. He is not to be trifled with. If you know anything, please tell me, because if he gets to the angel first… things will not be pretty.“

“Oh my god…!” Constantine said with a terrified look on his face, and not one from the earlier scare Alila gave him.

“You know something? Did you see her?”

“Know? See? Katherine, I fucking saved, I gave her clothes, we had lunch together and played arcade games at the carnival!” He yelled, starting to panic.

“Calm down. Speak clearly. Where did you take her?” She said, with an iron cold in her voice.

Constantine could barely string words together. “I… I don’t know, the wendigo attacked… we got separated. They probably took her home?” He mumbled.

“Home? Oh my fucking god Constantine, please don't tell me she hid inside your home!”

Constantine bit his bottom lip and shook his head while Katherine and her mother stared at him, with an impatient urgency in their eyes. “Worse, we were at Nikolai’s.”

“Nikolai’s?” Alila said, a ghastly shock crawling over her face. She turned to Katherine, whose face was statuesque. A slight shiver passed through her body as she stared unblinkingly towards Constantine. She quickly turned away, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“Where does this, Nikolai live?” Katherine asked. “Is anyone else with the angel?”

“Near my place, and no, Uriel is just with Evan and Nikolai.” Constantine said.

“We need to go, now!” Alila said hurriedly. She gave Katherine a concerned look before she dashed away into another room, making preparations. Katherine lingered, in a strange state of dismay. Her hand was trembling, but she hid it before Constantine could see.

“Constantine, go get your clothes, they’re in the dryer in the kitchen. We need to get to Nikolai’s right now. And pray we make it there in time.” Her whispered voice echoed like a deathly omen of doom.

The fallen leaves crunched underneath the demons’ heavy boots. Mephisto let out a breath of hot air, warming up his hands. Azazel meanwhile, took another few quick puffs of his cigarette as they walked through the park towards the busy crime-scene.

“It’s cold out today.” Mephisto said, making conversation.

“Mhmm.” Azazel responded without much care. It was an immediate dismissal, showing that he was a lot more concerned with what had occurred.

Mephisto kept quiet. He scanned the area, seeing lots of familiar demons between human policemen keeping the scene free of any bystanders from behind yellow tape. Aside from a few stragglers however, most people had fled back to their homes now that the carnival had all been shut down. But a small gathering of journalists and curious stragglers still needed to be dealt with. After peering closer, it seemed to Mephisto that the man doing just that was Baal.

“Is that Baal… giving a press conference?” Mephisto asked his boss.

“A small one, yes. He is our man on the district council after all.” Azazel answered, distracted by the corpse of the wendigo. The two of them had finally reached it, and the demon immediately began investigating, not caring about anyone that might see them. The body was splayed out against some deep thick roots, headless and missing one of its front limbs. “He’s telling everyone this was just a small animatronic failure, a decoration that glitched out and fell on some carnival shops. Thankfully no one got hurt.”

“Thank god. I guess lying as well as he does makes for a good politician.” Mephisto shrugged. “What are you looking for?”

“Its head… mainly.” He said bluntly.

Mephisto took a few steps. Then he took a few more around some of the trees. It was still early in the morning, with the sun still shy behind gray clouds. The thick, branchy crowns of the trees made it even darker and more difficult to discern anything. Annoyed, Mephisto pulled out a flashlight and began shining it on the grass. Immediately, he spotted a trail of sparkling red against his light. He followed it down a small hill and ended up finding the wendigo’s decapitated skull, embedded in a small root-hole. Its antlers looked like a few errant branches or young saplings poking out of the ground, but the blood that stained them betrayed their true nature.

“Over here!” Mephisto called out.

Azazel stumbled over, almost tumbling on the hill but catching himself just in time. “Groggy morning, don’t say shit.” He said. “Alright where is it?”

Mephisto pointed at the head. He watched as Azazel yanked it carelessly out and started moving it around in his hands, inspecting it from all sorts of angles. “What are you doing?” He asked.

“Shhshsh.” Azazel whispered. “Damn it.”

“What?”

“I was hoping the wendigo managed to get some bites on the stupid huntress at least. The damn bitch is untouchable. A drop of blood is all I’d need to find her.” He said, angrily tossing away the skull and letting it roll a small distance.

Mephisto wandered away, climbing back to the original crime scene. He clicked his flashlight and took a long, deep stare at the battleground. He stepped to and fro, trying to understand how the fight between the monster and the Huntress unfolded. But something caught his eye. He double checked, and sure enough, his suspicions were confirmed.

There’s an extra pair of footprints in the mud here. He realized. He looked over again. His intense staring had caught Azazel’s attention, who was carefully observing him, watching how the gears turned in his mind. Not barefoot, so its probably not the angel… a bystander? Why would the beast chase a random person? Unless… it wasn’t anyone random? He followed the trail of hurried footprints, now barely visible, until he reached a tall imposing tree. He knelt before it, squinting.

“Bingo.” He heard Azazel say. That was enough for Mephisto to notice the still wet puddle of blood against one of the roots. “Well done Mephisto.”

“You think that’s the huntress’?” He asked.

“No, but notice how the wendigo fell the other way, and most of the blood splatter is higher on the tree, in smaller droplets. This, this is a lot more concentrated. Notice how this area is somewhat clean too? When the huntress killed my boy the blood splattered on whoever was laying here and they were clearly wounded.” Azazel explained gleefully, a wild spark lighting in his green eyes. “Step aside.”

“Sure. What’s this, more blood magic?” Mephisto asked, seeing Azazel pull out what appeared to be a small goblet from his coat. “Where’d you even keep that?”

“I thought we might need it.” Azazel said, dipping his fingers in the pool of blood and flicking it inside his cup. “The Great Houses of Astaroth permit demons to wield and master many forms of unholy magicks, this is more specifically Scyphomancy, divination by defiled chalice.”

Mephisto stepped back, slightly impressed by Azazel’s explanation, though he struggled not to show it. “Hmm, I was never permitted within any of the Great Houses. Baphomet kept me on a tight leash. Basic blood runes were all I was permitted to learn of, all for the sake of being a better… host to my victims.”

“Well… I visited them all.” Azazel said smugly. “Amazing how useful it can be to toy with the boundaries of the physical realm in a myriad of ways, is it not?”

Mephisto squinted. “I thought the boundaries constrained most demons, not being of this world and all that.”

Azazel laughed. “I think we’ve long established, I am not most demons right Mephisto? Hold this please.” He said, dragging out the final word with melodious vibrato.

The inanimaliat clasped both of his hands around the chalice, watching as the singular droplets that Azazel had flicked soon grew, bubbled and filled the cup to the brim. Azazel chanted demonic words that Mephisto did not recognize while dipping both of his index fingers in the blood. Pulling them out, he began scratching runes and unholy symbols in the very air, writing an elaborate prayer. The words coalesced and danced with red vigor, slowly growing smaller and smaller until it became the size of a fingernail. Azazel put his finger up against it, and gave it a flick. A nail of blood shot from it, stabbing Mephisto directly between the eyes.

“What the hell!” He shouted, stumbling back and clutching his brow in pain. But as soon as he pulled back his hands he noticed the searing pain had vanished in a flash, and there was no blood on his hands.

“Relax.” Azazel said, leaning down and picking up the cup Mephisto had dropped. It was now completely dry and empty of blood. “I’ve simply attuned you to the scent of this person’s blood. You should be able to track them as easily as a Wendigo could.”

“I don’t appreciate now being turned into your personal bloodhound against my will, Azazel.” Mephisto said, still rubbing his nose.

“Now? Far too late for that dear Mephy.” Azazel chuckled. “Besides, you’re the only person I can trust with this.”

It took a moment for the dark magic to take effect, but once it did Mephisto stepped back, bewildered. “Woah…” He sniffed the air, immediately picking up on a trail. It was like rusted iron, scraped and thrown into the wind. Yet at the same time, there was a strange fragrancy, a cold purity to be found within the strange scent. “That feels so strange.”

“You can follow it?” Azazel asked.

“Oh yeah, this is… quite potent.”

“Good. I’ll go back to the office, give some of my other dogs the angel’s feather. She’s close, she was here, I can feel it in my bones.”

“And me? You want me to follow this random person? And I’m the only one that can do this?”

“No, stupid. This person was wounded, but no paramedics or anything were called for the carnival. Which means, the Huntress didn’t just leave them there. She probably took them to her home, lair, cave wherever that bitch may be hiding to fix them up.” Azazel said, throwing away his finished cigarette. “But the reason I am sending you specifically is because she won’t expect you. She’s probably expecting a full blooded motherfucker demon like myself. All her wards, all her seals and holy protections won’t do shit against you. I want you to follow this trail, and find where she’s been hiding. I want you to find her for me.”

Mephisto nodded. “And you’ll be finding the angel meanwhile?”

“Two birds with one stone… we’re so close my friend. So close to putting this awful chapter behind us. We’ll be living like kings when this is over.” Azazel said, cackling to himself. “Aren't you excited we’re finally gonna get the angel that you failed to kill?”

I told you, she died. That I know for certain. Although I don’t remember how, I know it to be true. Mephisto quietly thought to himself however. A soft melancholic sentiment bathed over him. An uneasy sensation of doom to follow. He turned to where his senses pointed him, and readied himself. With a sigh he turned to Azazel and said: “No, all I want to know is why she's still alive.”

“Oh don’t worry, that question won't bother you anymore by the end of today.” Azazel said with an icy laughter that made Mephisto’s skin crawl.