CHAPTER 21 - "DAMASCUS UNDONE"
The flames extended to the businesses on either side of the bakery as Decco stood with indifference, surrounded by a sea of fire. It reminded him of Hell, a place he once felt welcoming and inviting, but was now only a reminder of how it was in need of an "cleansing" and new leadership.
He would burn the city of London to ashes - one of the greatest and urbanized cities in the known world - and it will send a message to Morning Star that a war was coming…
Pyro spit fire at Damascus once more and ignited the woman's clothing shop behind him. Nailz also attacked him from the other side. Damascus was cornered. He had goaded them on, but they weren't as stupid as they looked. And as Nailz slashed out at him with his claws, Damascus moved into Pryo's line of fire unavailingly and was caught in a blast of hot fire breath that engulfed him.
Damascus was on fire. His clothes burned and they became charred black, but still partially clung to him and just barely, but he was able to heal his body almost instantaneously. And as he stood there in the street undignified, he felt more embarrassed than angry. He had just used a lot of energy to heal himself and he breathed heavy. He began to sweat, even demons got exhausted.
His comeback to their onslaught had been short-lived. Pyro and Nailz were two very powerful demons and it was no wonder they had allied themselves with Decco.
Decco clapped his hands as he stepped out from the blazing bakery, the entire street was now engulfed in flames. People were just now waking to notice, scrambling to put out the fire with whatever water sources they had, which was very little. And with most of the square block crafted with wooden frame and foundation, the fire was burning shops and buildings like kindling in a fireplace.
"Bravo, my friend," Decco said, "your courage is truly impressive. You are everything I except in a rival and more. You radiate dark energy like a black hole in space beyond this planet, but you have gotten weak in recent years without your precious master. Weak and unfocused."
"Where is Master Belial?" Damascus demanded.
"The fool is some place where you can not reach him. He attempted to attack me, it was his last mistake."
"Last mistake?"
"He underestimated my powers, so I banished him into Purgatory. But a purgatory that has no escape. Much like Fallen Reapers who are punished, their bodies stripped away from them and their consciousness left to wander space and time for all eternity, so to is our teacher. And not even Morning Star can free him!"
Damascus stood straight and tall, his charred clothing hanging off his pale-skinned white body, and despite the threat of Pyro and Nailz and another attack, who both halted when Decco spoke, he didn't care if he would need to battle these demons again to get to Decco.
But he put that thought aside for a moment.
He tensed, clenching a fist at his side, as he saw the district around him engulfed in flames. Bells sounded alerting people of the fire. The once serene night now in chaos thanks to Decco.
"Put these flames out and then we'll talk," Damascus demanded.
"Talk? About what? We have nothing to talk about. This city will go up in flames. Why, you ask? Because you enjoy it so much. This city is where you spend most of you time in the human world. Why, the reason is obvious. You were once one of them and you crave one of them once more. You were very fortuitous when Belial plucked you from certain death in Pompeoo. He gave you a choice: die there and be buried for all eternity under a mountain of volcanic ash, or become a demon and learn to take life. But you still cling to these humans and this world like some materialistic item."
"My heart is human, but I live the life of a demon now. I can not change that. Notwithstanding, I was ordered by Morning Star to retrieve you and bring you back to stand trail for your crimes. We are demons, but there is still order in Hell, and Morning Star is our lord and master."
"My crimes? Don't be facetious, Damascus."
"Master Belial is Morning Star's top lieutenant. Even God has noticed his absence and Morning Star fears without Belial, another Holy War will begin and God will seize this opportunity to destroy Hell, and that will mean we demons will be without a hope and his angels will hunt us down like dogs."
"Let God do so, but I am not doing any favors for Him. I have disassociated myself from the rest of you. You are pathetic, Damascus. A human made demon. Blasphemy!"
"I see you are no better than I, Decco. Half-breed. My life was stolen from me by fate. Vesuvius overlooking the city of my birth in 79 AD erupted. I was only twelve years old at the time. Belial offered me a choice. There are days I look back and wonder if I made the correct decision, but then I realize, I made my choice and it cannot be altered. I have tried to be worthy of Belial's kindness ever since."
"You think I am not worthy to be a demon?"
"I think you are childish and reckless like I used to be and setting this fire because you hate humans is proof of this. Let humans do what they want. What they do means nothing to us."
"You insult me! I am full-demon!"
"Lair. Even though you have attempted to discredit and silence those who claim the truth to your heritage, you cannot deny who you really are or your history. I was born a human, now I am a demon. I am mocked for this, but I do not let it discourage me. Who you are and where you come from are important in determining your set identity in life, but it doesn't have to dictate how you live."
"You have gone soft, Damascus. No demon would adhere to those principles. You are philosophizing."
"Perhaps nearly two thousand years and the bulk of my experience has done this to me. I was given a second chance, and I have seen things as a demon that I would never have dreamed as a human. Granted, I must kill humans for nourishment, but this, I decided a long time ago, is a necessary thing. It is either this or spend all of eternity buried under tons of volcanic ash and debris, my spirit never to rest."
"You are a demon. You are near to immortal. You can never rest."
"But I am not evil."
"So you a 'good' demon?" Decco laughed. "There is no such thing!"
"I am an obedient demon," Damascus corrected him, "and I know my place, as you should. I can also think for myself. We are the exception to the mediocrity of Hell; most demons are blind-followers catering only to their carnal desires. This is why I believe we are special, you and I, but you waste your gifts on gluttony and sinful objectives. We have so much to offer than what biblical lore has stamped demons to be. But you insist on this pitiful rivalry between us. So, I ask once more: Where is Master Belial? If you tell me, I will leave you in peace and let Morning Star deal with you personally. Otherwise, we will fight each other."
"And I have told you, he is out of reach. Not even I can bring him back from the brink of nothingness now." Decco seemed to curse Damascus with his eyes. "You have become annoying, Damascus. You are weak and worthless, like that of all of Belial's 'children'. I am the only one who has seen this truth."
"Then you are delusional. Belial's children, those of whom he teaches, are not worthless. Granted, many of them have not advanced as we have, but that does not make them worthless."
"You talk too much, Damascus. You have yet to see the light."
Damascus gave a short chuckle. "That's something an angel would say. You have been reading to much biblical lore, Decco" He knew to be compared to an angel was an insult for a demon.
Decco growled angrily. "How dare you mock me! I will burn this city to the ground for that remark! The city you favor so greatly!"
"You may be centuries older than I, but you still have a great deal more to learn, Decco. I will not let you destroy this city!"
Pyro and Nailz moved in closer to him. Damascus saw each of them do so from the corner of his sight. He knew it would not be easy, but he would fight for this city. The city of London, for which he did favor so greatly. Not for its people, but for its culture. He could not let Decco destroy London.
"I will not be belittled or looked down upon you, Damascus! You are beneath me, you are no match for me and the army I am building!"
Decco said his words with such weightiness that they resonated inside Damascus's mind with an unusual eeriness that he had never felt from Decco before. He had made Decco angry, very angry with his philosophizing - the very thing a human would do to reason out the logical principles of life. The ancient Greek philosophers did so on a daily bases, balancing good and evil on a scale and asking questions of morality. But with an evil as great as Decco, there was no sound reasoning with him.
But in an unexpected move, and one whereas Damascus was distracted by Pyro and Nailz advancing upon him from either side, he accidentally took his eyes off Decco for just a moment and Decco threw the large, multi-tier chocolate cake into his face that had somehow survived the bakery inferno. It spattered with full impact into his face, blinding him and covering him with chocolate and white icing.
Blinded, he felt someone grab his shoulders in front and then squeeze them. And in that moment, a jolt of electrifying power surged through his body, atrophying his muscles. He collapsed to his knees and through a small opening in the smothered cake and icing, he saw the vision of Decco's broad, sinister smile -
Sending him into darkness.
Pain.
All Damascus could feel was pain. But where was he?
He felt like he was in a place between the living and the dead - which was ironic because he was a demon, but this feeling was beyond that. This place was darkness, completely and utter darkness. He was a consciousness within something else. Was he inside his own mind?
Wake up, a voice said to him from within this darkness. Your master's' lives depend on it.
My master's'? Damascus replied.
A man with two master's is always conflicted and right now they are in danger. You can feel it, can't you?
Who are you?
You know who I am. You must remember what you have forgotten, only then can you unleash it. The mind holds many secrets that are often repressed or withheld to protect you. With time, everything comes to pass.
How will I know?
When the time right, you will know… Now, wake up!
Pain.
All Damascus could feel was pain, when he opened his eyes.
His entire body was wracked with agonizing pain. It was an awful burning sensation he had never felt before, as his body was stretched and pressed down. And he felt "empty". Yes, of course, Decco took the souls I had collected over the years to make me weak, but left me just enough to stay alive.
His hands and feet were nailed with iron stakes to cross-purported thick pieces of wood crafted into a cross shape and the cross was embedded partially into a darkened wall made of bloodied tissue. His face was saturated with dried blood from something he wore on his head, it felt like a crown of thorns. And from the chill in the place where he was, his clothes had been removed and a simple loincloth was wrapped around his mid-section and pelvis region to cover his dignity.
He was no longer where he once was - in the streets of London, surrounded by fires that threatened to engulf the city, started by Decco had his two demons. But where had Decco brought him?
From what he could gather, this was Decco's "lair", his hideout, the place where criminal intent met sanctity. Pyro and Nailz were busy crafting the lair as Decco lounged in it. Decco sat in a large throne made from the skull and bones of humans. There must have been hundreds, if not thousands, of human bones that filled Decco's lair, giving it an ominous and sinister atmosphere. And the blood and tissue on the walls was what was left over of the humans, stripped off the bones. But there seemed to be an unnatural light coming from within the lair, without it, it would be pitch black. Damascus didn't know where it was coming from, but he could feel it pulsing from the walls and heard something like a heart-beat somewhere. Yes, of course, his very own collected souls were generating light within the walls to give the lair life.
As his eyes darted around, Decco finally noticed he had awakened. "Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, so to speak," the sinister demon said. "You have been unconscious for three days."
Sharp, surging pain coursed through his muscles with the slightest movement, but it didn't stop him from attempting to free himself. The stakes were nailed into his wrists and into the top of his feet. The symbolism was uncanny, as was the crown of thorns upon his head.
"The ultimate humiliation for a minion of the devil. To be nailed to a religious iconic symbol of God in the same way as his son, crucified by his very own kind." Decco chuckled. "I thought it fitting since you are a 'good' demon now, willing to fight for humans against your own kind."
"Obedient demon," Damascus corrected. "And sometimes a cross is just a cross. It is what people make of it that gives it meaning, nothing more. And if you think that nailing me to this thing will humiliate me? Then you are more foolish than you look."
Decco growled angry, but more out of frustration. "No matter what I do to you, you remain obstinate!"
"I remain truthful and loyal to my principles. Even a demon has principles." Even though it hurt to do so, Damascus smirked. "You can burn me, you can slice me up, you can nail me to a cross, you can even course insurmountable pain throughout my entire body, but I will never yield. Where is Master Belial?!"
Decco settled to a calm demeanor. "Still you ask for that old man like a child would a father or mother. Very well, seek for him where the Mind's Eye touches the sky."
"What does that mean?"
"That is the only clue I will give you. But it will do you know good. Without sacrificing the blood of the innocent, Belial will stay in the purgatory I sent him for all eternity."
"One day Decco, you will get your upcomings!"
"Listen to you, you are even beginning to speak like them - those Londoners you praise so highly. But I did you a favor. London has been burning for three says straight. What started in the bakery spread like wildfire and has now encompassed two-thirds of the city. London itself is its own Hell right now."
"Noooo!"
"That's right, my dear demon brethren. Your playthings are either dead or dying."
"You bastard!"
"You and I hold an unusual kinship that I find intriguing, whether it be our many skirmishes over the years or perhaps the fact we are both students of the same teacher. But, nevertheless, I will grant you the pleasure of watching your 'pets' run around like rats, much like the citizens of Pompeii did nearly 1,500 years ago. You will watch them die, like you did your mother and father, unable to help them."
"Demons like humans can die! I will kill you someday, Decco. I swear it!"
"Perhaps someday, my dear Damascus. But not today." And Decco laughed.
Damascus had not realized at the time the extent of Decco's words when he said, "You will watch them die, like your did your mother and father, unable to help them," as he hung from the cross on a forest hill overlooking the city of London, the city still smoking and engulfed in flames. They had put him here, his cross staked into the ground, to watch his favorite city burn to ash, and then left.
He could hear the screams of its people, the bells of the fire crews attempting to smother the flames, and he could feel the chaos that ensued within its people. It was a dark place now filled with people of sinister intent using the chaos of the fire to loot and plunder people of their valuables. No more was it a city of cultural kinship and liking. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
And in his weakened state, he could not free himself.
They wanted him to suffer, like the biblical figure for whom he now emphasized, nailed to this cross. Unfortunately for him, the screams from the citizens of London would appear to be his epitaph. For if he could not free himself, they will be the last thing he will hear before he turned to dust when his energy ran out. But no one would find him here, secluded by lush forest and with people preoccupied with London burning.
And then there was his ultimate shame.
He lowered his chin to his chest with somber thoughts, thinking of Belial. "I am sorry, Master, I have failed you…"
To be continued…