Wishmaster: Exodus

Wishmaster © Live Film and Mediaworks, Inc.

Wishmaster II: Evil Never Dies © Artisan International, Inc.

Story © Kogamitsu (that's me)

Memento Mori

When Angelika came to, she had a good idea what a good hangover might feel like. Her head was near splitting in two, she felt and was sick a couple of times and her tongue felt dry and swollen. The crusaders had given her an alcohol poisoning, hoping to inflict it on the young Djinn through their mental bond.

They had hardly reached the lobby of the Hotel Sleepy Hollow when Toshiro felt it. He threw himself into a corner and threw up whatever had been in his acidic stomach. Alerted, Nathaniel helped him up. "Angel!" Toshiro gasped. "It's Angel! They've got her."

"The more the reason to hurry," Nathaniel declared swiftly and tried to pull his son back on his feet..

"No, wait...! I – I can't..."

He let out another load. Nathaniel shook his head and let out the deepest sigh ever heard on the face of this planet. "Thankfully it seems nothing worse than an alcohol poisoning," he remarked. "But do tell – is your bond truly that intense?"

Stooping up on one knee, Toshiro placed the side of his right hand into his mouth and bit. He bit until his black blood began dripping on the floor. Concentrating fully on the real pain, he was able to ignore the astral suffering. After a while he was able to stand up and carry on. He drew out Murasame and rested in on his shoulder. The two of them disappeared into the stairway of the Hotel Sleepy Hollow that once had served them as a sanctuary. Now it was closer to a slaughterhouse – or at least that was what they were intending to make it.

Angelika turned over on the cell floor she was lying. She heard screams so full of agony and despair that momentarily she was certain she had gone straight to Hell, but upon hearing Raphael's monotonic voice she began to realize what had happened. Turning once more to find a comfortable position, she couldn't but listen to the cries that came quite near from her.

"Tell me!" one of the Crusaders shouted. "Who was that bigger Djinn we saw!? He was no regular cannonfodder of yours, he took out a whole unit of ours without breaking a sweat!"

"C... could be anyone," the weak voice replied. "It doesn't take much to trample you mortals into pavement."

A mistake. Whatever it was that he was tortured with got him screaming. Angelika cringed, almost feeling the pain he suffered. Finally the screams fell silent, only to start again with greater force. This time Angelika sprung up on her knees, facing the general direction of the voice. "Stop that!" she screamed. "Please, stop! Don't...!"

She reached her hand out, meeting metal bars that isolated her from the rest of the room. The torturer stole a loathing glance at her and grunted in frustration. "You got lucky this time, demon," he spat, and threw him into the same cell with Angelika. She heard the soft thud his body made when he hit the hard stone floor right next to her. He was heaving, gasping for air among uncontrollable coughing. Angelika reached out until she felt him. "Are... are you alright?"

"I've been better," the Djinn said. "Yet I'd be worse if you hadn't stopped him."

He tried to get up, resulting only in him falling nearly over Angelika. Not really knowing what to do, Angelika allowed him to rest on her arms. He felt very different from the young Djinn she had felt in the motel room; this one was smaller, rather skinny... though it could all be the consequences of the torturing he had endured. "Wh... what have they done to you?" she gasped. He was so lightweight.

"Nothing you'd like to hear," the Djinn replied. His voice was worn and tired, it was obvious to even Angelika that he was living through his final moments. Neither one said anything for a while, until the Djinn suddenly spoke. "Are you... are you the warrior's waker?" he asked.

"Yes..." Angelika confessed. That instant she felt the Djinn's hand on her shoulder as he raised himself closer to her face. "Please...!" he said, his voice hardly louder than a whisper any more. "You... you've got to help us... The Crusaders, they... they will capture each one of us. They won't stop until we are all tortured to death! And most likely then they'll find another race to make extinct. You... you are the only one who can save us."

"But... but I don't... I don't know what..."

"Listen – forget the bullshit the religions give you. We are not evil. Fuck, there IS NO such thing as evil. Only different points of view. We are not honourless slaughterers, we do kill when we have to but we don't kill mindlessly. Only those who stand in our way and deserve it. The Crusaders, they... I bet they have tried to kill you too."

Angelika nodded. That was true. The more she observed the Crusaders' actions the more she felt sympathy for the Djinn. At least now when one of them was right there, in her arms, dying. It burnt her to realize she had once served faithfully the god that had indeed created this world, but also turned his back on it and turned it into a hunting ground. These thinking, feeling beings were tortured here, only because they had fought for their right. She felt a tear running down her cheek and falling off her face, undoubtedly landing on the Djinn, who moved slightly when he felt a warm drop on his scarred stomach. And a second one. And third.

"You... you are crying, for us? For me?"

Angelika couldn't speak. She sobbed like the little girl she was, giving her all to endure the sorrow inside her. Once more the Djinn reached up, pulling her body closer to him into a warm embrace. He squeezed, almost too hard. Just as he felt his life draining out from his body, he whispered:

"Th... that was the most... most beautiful thing... you could've given me."

His hold loosened gradually, and his lifeless body slid onto the ground from Angelika's arms. She found it no longer in herself to control the bottomless sorrow, and she burst into tears hysterically. She cried over the dead body of the poor Djinn that met the most terrible death she could have ever imagined. She couldn't stop crying even when the guards came to pick up the body and kicked her in the head to silence her. The impact fractured her nose and tore open the corner of her eye, also messing up her sense of balance and direction. She carried on sobbing, lying in her own blood on the cold floor, wondering if her life would end here too.

Meanwhile Alexandra bit her lip in frustration. She had been wandering the streets for hours without so much as a clue where she could go any more. The sensation was gone, as if The Undying would be blocking his eerie presence to hide himself. Little did Alexandra know how close she was; she was staring at the Hotel Sleepy Hollow, just like she was being stared at from the shadows. In a swift, single move, an unseen force pulled her into the alley next to the hotel, and threw her on the ground. Even though she was quick to get up and face her opponents, her speed wasn't enough this time. The same force, this time in the form of a shaded man, pulled her off the ground and pinned her against the wall. He was not of this world; not even a sharp kick in the groin moved him. Alexandra struggled all in vain. The man took a few careful sniffs around her neck, then backing off just enough to see her face. "You reek of the Djinn," he growled, the voice like an avalanche. Saying nothing more, he threw her over his shoulder, ignored the constant punches and kicks he received and carried her to the penthouse of the hotel.

Raphael's sword reflected the gentle light coming from the chandeliers on the ceiling, yearning to taste the blood of the Djinn. An awkward silence had landed on the people in the penthouse, triggered by an unexpected decision Raphael had made. His minions stared at him, confused to heck, almost bewildered. But Raphael was still and silent, staring at his reflection from the polished blade of his sword.

"C'mon man, are you being serious?"

The archangel found his minions' street language despicable, but decided against taking actions. Instead, he sheathed his sword in all the confidence and faced his people. "Yes, I am being serious. You. Bring me the girl."

The thug shrugged slightly and left the penthouse, while his friends still struggled to understand the patterns Raphael was thinking in. "There's no way it can work," one of them finally dared to say. "Do you really think you'd get her to trust you any more? I mean seriously, you tried to kill her."

"All for the good of mankind, oh ye of little faith," Raphael sighed. "It doesn't matter if she trusts me or not, as long as her faith in the Djinn crumbles."

Soon the doors flew open, but instead of the thug that went to get Angelika, the man in the alleyway stepped inside and threw Alexandra on the floor. "She was snooping in front of the building," the man growled. Alexandra held her aching backside and muttered silent curses under her breath at the goon. Raphael looked at her, despising to see these filthy mortals even if they were on all fours in front of him. "And this is...?"

"She reeks of the elder Djinn."

"Fascinating..."

Alexandra stood up, straightening her clothes and re-doing her ponytail that had suffered slightly during her struggle. "I see," Raphael smirked. "She must be a former waker. Very interesting to meet those who have managed to defeat the Djinn."

"Uh-huh, and who you might be?" she spat, unimpressed. The minions were ready to knock her down for such arrogance, but Raphael signed them to leave her be. "You've got courage, human," he said. "Or is it pure foolishness? You ought to show more respect for an archangel."

"...an archangel?" she wasn't sure if this jester was serious or not.

"I am Raphael, one of the seven angels of Apocalypse. I am here to keep this world free of the Djinn. Protect the humanity from them, if you will --"

"Why?"

Raphael was taken aback by Alexandra's question. It was direct, an undermining question only to crumble his credibility. She wasn't easily fooled, and she made it clear that very instant. Raphael knew his mind tricks wouldn't work on her, she was determined and loyal to the decision she made before leaving her apartment tonight. "An ally to the Djinn, you are..." Raphael muttered, unsheathing his sword. "I should behead you now, like the heretic you are. But I might have other use for you..."

The doors opened and closed, this time in came the thug that had Angelika with him. She was still wearing only the bathrobe from the motel, her face was slightly swollen because of the kick she had received and the corner of her eye was still bleeding. Alexandra didn't have to guess twice if this unfortunate soul was the waker of The Undying's son or not. "Ah, excellent," Raphael smiled. "Please, escort this traitor into a cell, and bring Ms. Angelika to me."

A goon grabbed Alexandra by her arm and pulled her towards the door. In the last moment, Alexandra grabbed Angelika with her only free hand and whispered something in her ear before getting pulled violently out of the room.

Raphael took a good look at Angelika. "My, my... where are my manners?" he declared, theatrically enough to sound like something out of ancient Greek plays. "Bring me a person qualified in healing injuries such as hers, and get some fresh clothes. Only the best for my guest."

Angelika shook her head in disbelief – a guest!? Try 'a kidnapped'.

After a moment, Angelika was wearing a royal white silk gown, her hair was combed and done neatly, her front hair that usually hid her face had been braided and tied together at the back of her head. The wound in the corner of her eye had been taken care of, and now she was sipping warm, delicious soup that she was given. "I truly must apologize my irrational behaviour earlier," Raphael's voice carried out from somewhere in the room. "It is sometimes difficult to guard the innocent while fighting the evil, you do understand, do you not?"

"I... I guess..." she couldn't think of anything else to say. Upsetting Raphael was the least she wanted, at least when she was now out of that dirty, cold cell room and had felt comfortable. Footsteps echoed in the room, telling her her was moving around, not far from her. "I was wondering, if you'd happen to know..." he sat down on the couch, next to her. "Who is the elder Djinn the young one goes around with? Any idea at all?"

Angelika wasn't sure. He was the father to the young Djinn, he seemed experienced and wise... almost as if some ancient wisdom had been bestowed upon him. But that was enough for Raphael, who stood up in a slight shock. Could it really be...?

"Originally, there were only seven Djinn," Raphael told her. "I myself destroyed the first of them, and three others, while my brothers have defeated two of the original seven... if the last one is still alive, he'd be undoubtedly the most powerful Djinn to ever exist."

The tone of his voice darkened. "There have been stories, rumours of this seventh Djinn. They have dubbed him 'The Undying' for his unnerving habit of refusing to die. Legend has it that he has a son, who also differs from the rest of their kind. A physical warrior. If what you just told me is true, everything is in grave peril, for the elder Djinn would be The Undying himself. He has slain more angels in his lifetime than any other demon."

His footsteps echoed from further and further away. "This will call for precautions. We don't have much time, they are already in this building. Go secure the front lines, and make sure they do not get to the higher floors. Understood?"

His minions left the penthouse. Raphael came back to Angelika, for only a brief time. "The Djinn are evil liars," he said. "They have poisoned your mind with their false truths and disbelief. Stay strong in your faith, Angelika. We can still save the earth."

He caressed her hair gently. "I will gather guards to see you are safe in here. They cannot get to you any more, I promise."

With that, he, too left the penthouse. Angelika heard some guards assembling at the doors, mumbling to themselves. A sorrowful sight escaped her lips, the controversy pulling her apart now more than ever. Whom should she believe, then? The archangel, or the Djinn? Her heart or her beliefs? The historical Bible or the Djinn that died in her arms?

But on top of all that, the words Alexandra whispered to her ear just before she was taken away kept haunting her mind.

"Know your opponent."

What did she mean?