WORD OF THE DHARKESIDE
Another massive cheers to Ink Splash, Grey Faerie32, jeaynie, Jim, Xelena, Bryan James and me best mate lc277. Thank you all so very much for your reviews! Being a rather sad person, I shall wish Keanu Reeves a happy forty-first birthday. I'm still working on kidnapping him….
Chapter Four
Balthazar watched the falling half breed. Framed against the night sky, the angel resembled a plummeting, crescent moon. Black and white. The enormous, mottled wings flapped back and forth erratically. Those delicate feathers couldn't quite grasp the oily air. Weak limbs flailed desperately, and so were drowned in the liquid darkness.
"This scene looks familiar," the demon sniggered.
With phenomenal speed, the thrashing half breed approached the widening ground. The angel's panicked screams entered hearing distance. Initially the masculine voice had sounded vague and uncertain. Now apprehension and anticipation dominated the pitch. These terrified shrieks shattered the night's solitary silence.
"What a beautiful symphony," he snickered. "Their screams are more satisfying on Earth."
An apple tree broke the angel's fall. Wooden screeches replaced the saintly shouts. Balthazar stood underneath the branches, watching the proceedings. Wounded foliage twisted and twirled through the air, like blackened snowflakes, or gangrenous flesh. Organic debris landed on the demon's shoulders, soiling his expensive business suit. With proud, contemptuous movements, he shrugged the leaves away.
"Another ninety dollar cleaning bill," he snarled. "I'm going to enjoy killing this idiotic half breed."
Feeble branches snapped underneath the angel, sending him plummeting further downwards. Crushed vegetation and cracked twigs led the way, as they crashed to the grimy ground. Several apples dropped from high heights, and splattered across lower levels. The damaged debris resembled disfigured entrails, minus the usual vibrant bloodshed.
"Soon," Balthazar smirked. "Soon enough."
The final branches gave way, and his descent was no longer delayed. Gravity grabbed the angel, pulling him to the ground. His stomach hit the earth first, making the air whoosh out his lungs loudly. The remaining appendages followed quickly behind; skull struck second and limbs landed last.
Two, poised, business shoes lingered near the angel's head. Three pitiless kicks concentrated on the cranium… Four gleeful stamps directed at an arm or leg… And five sadistic blows towards the crotch… Ah! Such splendid fun! But the demon resisted these lecherous desires. He'd torture his new toy leisurely, like sipping expensive champagne, or nibbling a delectable desert. He wanted his playmate awake too; the cognisant were always so amusing!
"Especially when they're missing a limb," Balthazar smiled.
He studied the fallen half breed, lying motionless on his stomach. His arms and legs were outstretched, like a misshapen corpse upon the cross. How delightful! The angel's splayed fingers twitched erratically, fighting back pain and shock.
"It's not over yet," the demon sneered.
The gritty ground hid his victim's visage and subsequently any telltale facial features, yet Balthazar found the half breed oddly familiar. He tried to pinpoint the recognisable characteristics. Was it the inexperienced, clumsy descent from Heaven? The lanky, teenage body? Or the short, geeky brown hair? Perhaps. Like all winged do-gooders, he looked the part. An idiotic prick! This loathsome image was emphasised by the fallen vegetation, clinging to his curly locks and outspread wings. Occasional breezes stirred the fine feathers. Despite these persistent pesterings, the angel did not move.
"I hope my little friend isn't unconscious," the demon sighed. "How very disappointing!"
Sharp shoes stabbed exposed ribs. The angel jolted violently, like he'd suffered an electric shock.
"Rise and shine!" Balthazar mocked. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead!"
He kicked the angel twice, making him wail feebly. These pathetic protests highly humoured the merciless demon.
"Rise and shine!" he taunted. "Then fight and die!"
These final, threatening words penetrated the angel's thick skull. He lifted his head from the ground and peered at the intimidating demon. Was this his prey's defence tactic? Lying on his stomach pretending to be a tempestuous toddler? Pulling indignant, childish scowls? How very humorous! Balthazar would've hit him again, but curiosity halted his violent actions. For now. He watched the grease grimed maggot, squirming in the sodden surroundings.
"Rise and shine!" he jeered. "Rise and shine, you lazy little winged worm!"
Balthazar's insults made the angel raise his head higher, as though in gallant defiance. Hilarious! A winged clown! How splendidly entertaining! The demon finally glimpsed his victim's visage. Mottled blemishes marred the pallid skin, whilst muddy streaks stained the ashen cheeks. He looked like a bleeding jester. A red gash maimed his bottom lip, and its crimson leakage trickled down his chin. Balthazar suddenly felt hungry, but he ignored the aggravating pangs. Instead his attention fell across the familiar eyes, with their virtuous golden glints. And he remembered.
"You!" the demon spat. "You were his apprentice!"
"I still am," he squeaked.
Anger, bewilderment and delight infiltrated Balthazar's dysfunctional conscience. He hesitated. What next? He was spoilt for choice. Taking advantage of his indecision, the apprentice tentatively got to his feet.
He stood opposite the angel. Faces just inches apart. Eyes barely blinking. Red and gold. Wary. Balthazar disliked this sudden vacillation. Where had his smug, self assurance gone? His victim's identity unsettled him. No matter. He would enjoy this one.
"Did you choose that hideous outfit?" he sneered.
The apprentice looked offended. So soon? How satisfying! Emotional turmoil tasted divine. There weren't many half breeds who could be provoked so easily. And now he'd found one. Splendid!
Indeed like all angels, his white uniform was absolutely atrocious. He wore kitschy, effeminate garments. Gabriel had worn a similar costume during the Mammon episode, although his clothing was splattered in sludge. Quite the improvement.
"I hope you like high priced Laundromats," the demon smirked. "White always attracts unsightly stains. You should never wear white, my little chicken winged friend."
"I have a name, you know!" he protested. "I'm, uh, this is Kramer. C-c-chas Kramer. Asshole."
"Balthazar," he sniggered. "Your Johnny boy's apprentice? My goodness! I can't believe he's never introduced us before. What an awful shame!"
Chas grinned foolishly and stuck out his hand. The demon remained motionless, totally astonished by the angel's naivety. Did he really want to shake hands? How insulting! Being spat on seemed more respectful. Even if it was Constantine's saliva. But a foul handshake? Just revolting! They weren't acquaintances. They were sworn enemies. They fought on opposing sides and served different bosses. What a blatant show of stupidity!
Trembling furiously, Balthazar grabbed Chas's wrist. The skin was warm and podgy. Disgusting! Feeling utterly repulsed, the demon squeezed his arm with inhuman strength. His enemy shrieked painfully, like a bleeding animal, or a dying baby. Such beautiful music! He applied more pressure, making the angel collapse onto his knees. Now this was soulfully satisfying!
"My, my, my," Balthazar purred. "You're a very foolish angel. Fraternising with the enemy? That's a crime! Our bosses would be unquestionably irate. Why! They'd kill us all over again, and then banish us from earth. I'm not going back to Hell. I like it better here."
"Letmego! Letmego! Letmego!" Chas sobbed. "I didn't know, okay? Ah! It hurts! It hurts! Aaaaaaah! My right tibia! Leetmeegoo!"
"Tibia? I think you mean carpus, dear boy," he scolded. "You're very ignorant indeed. Your ignorance must be punished!"
"Leetmeegoo!" the angel wailed. "M-m-my stupidity is an illness! C-c-can't you make an exception this time? Just give me a slap on the wrist!"
"Oh no," he leered. "You're going to get the full treatment. And ironically enough, we're standing in the appropriate environment."
For dramatic impact, Balthazar lingered momentarily. Despite Chas's perpetual protests, he continued holding the reddening wrist. Since the half breeds stood inside a yawning necropolis, his wretched wails provided suitable background music. Rotting, decrepit teeth protruded from the craggy ground, shining sinisterly in the interminable darkness. These shabby stones generated more light than the superficial stars. The ramshackle graves were arranged in orderly rows, like deceased soldiers marching towards Heaven or Hell.
The demon's nose was powerful. He could smell the rotting corpses, buried miles and miles underneath the earth's surface. The odours varied depending on level of decomposition. The older carcasses produced sweet, tantalising aromas, whereas the fresher cadavers smelt sicklier and more malodorous. It was like comparing expensive, mature wines with cheap, premature fruits. Now Balthazar felt even hungrier. Soon. Soon he would feast on fresh angel's flesh.
"I'm sending you back home," the demon declared. "I can only imagine your boss's reaction. He sent you to Earth, and you return in… What? Five minutes. Oh! He's going to be dreadfully pissed!"
"L-l-letmego!" Chas pleaded. "I know what you're planning! Aaaaaaah! Letmego! Leave Constant- leave John a-a-alone!"
"You know too much!" he snarled. "I won't let you mess with my plans! Your meddling kind are a disgrace!"
What if his stratagem failed? He'd loose Earth. He'd loose his freedom and his pride. He'd even loose John Constantine. And all because of an interfering, snivelling, little winged clown. His sudden fears boiled into contemptuous fury.
He increased his barbarous hold, making Chas's arm crunch loudly. He fought back desperately, but Balthazar's grip was unbreakable. His thumb sunk deeper into the wrist, snapping through muscle, tendon and bone. The angel screamed frenziedly, whilst the demon laughed gleefully.
"Please, pleeease, pleeeeeease!" Chas begged. "Leeetmeeegooo!"
"Never!" he crowed. "Just enjoy it, dear boy! You'll be visiting your Saviour again, soon enough!"
Chas suddenly went berserk. His bare foot struck the demon's shinbone. The offended leg promptly crumpled underneath him. Although shoes would've been more effective, the kick still caused some discomfort. Temporarily stunned, Balthazar's formidable grip faltered and the angel reclaimed his broken wrist.
The demon recovered his balance, just as Chas went berserk again. He punched Balthazar in the jaw, making his head snap upwards. He accidentally bit his tongue. Agony and blood filled his mouth. He swallowed the cherished fluid, relishing the sour, metallic taste. Anger and bloodlust exploded simultaneously.
"A mere kick and a punch?" the demon spat. "You're just an amateur! You wouldn't last a minute in Hell!"
Chas didn't retaliate physically or verbally. Instead he retreated. He dashed through the graves, his cumbersome wings making little progress. He flapped them desperately, but an ill wind worked in Balthazar's favour. Temperamental breezes prevented his enemy from flying away. Hilarious! Even Scavenger Scouts were more skilled in fighting and fleeing. What a useless angel!
"One, two, three," the demon mocked. "I'll hunt you down. Four, five, six. I'll kill you slowly. Seven, eight, nine. I'll rip you apart. Ten!"
Balthazar charged after his quarry, easily clearing the distance between them. He lunged for Chas's back, his hands extended threateningly. His fingernails knifed the vulnerable wings, slicing effortlessly through feather and ligament. The angel shrieked in utter suffering. Drunk with pain, he started stumbling and flailing. Large feathers scattered across the ground, falling like autumnal leaves. The colouring was similar too, especially those splattered in crimson.
"You can't beat me!" the demon bragged. "No one can beat me! Not even the great John Constantine!"
The angel's pained screams turned into raw sobs. Was he crying? Oh! How wonderful! Balthazar laughed pompously. His fingernails dug deeper into the ruined plumage, until the gore stained his hands and shirt cuffs. Satisfied with his ritualistic bloodletting, he grabbed the wings and pulled violently. He tore through muscle, cartilage and feather. The ripping sounds washed out Chas's shrill weeping.
The demon studied his hands. Blood dripped from his fingertips and clung to his nails. The metallic smell made his hunger become unbearable. He licked his hands greedily. He even licked his fingernails. He didn't stop licking until his hands were spotless. He wanted more. Angelic gore tasted so very sweet! And so very delicious! Wait. That wasn't an appropriate description.
"Finger lickin' good!" Balthazar elaborated.
Feeling especially sadistic, the demon kicked his enemy's rear. The callous smack sent Chas flying through the air. Gravity soon recovered its grip. He struck the ground violently, his stomach skidding across the gravel. His feet pressed against the stones, and his slide became a scuttle. Despite his maimed wings, he didn't stop crawling. Fleeing, again?
Balthazar took three, large, patronising steps, and drew level with Chas's legs. He stamped down on his ankle, making the bones snap wonderfully. The angel didn't scream this time, instead his body grew limp.
"Oh no. I won't let you blackout!" the demon snarled. "You're not getting away that easily!"
He grabbed Chas's shredded wings, his hands growing sticky and sodden. Holding onto tendon and feather, he yanked the angel into a standing position. He shrieked painfully but received little solace.
Wishing to see his victim's visage, Balthazar spun him around. Those tearful, pleading eyes stared back at him. Translucent tears mixed with muddy smears, forming dirty trails. Underneath the skin, red and white clashed together, representing blood loss and agony. More crimson tinctures speckled his white clothing. Such a splendid colour!
He suddenly noticed something behind Chas. A single, solitary gravestone stood surveying the situation.
"Still finding his way," he read the inscription. "Chas Kramer. That's your human grave? Oh! How divine!"
Chas didn't answer. How annoying! Still holding his broken wings, Balthazar hoisted him higher. He shrieked again, satisfying the ruthless demon. His victim's feet dangled above the ground, his balance relying on the wounded wings. The angel moaned and squirmed, but his torturer's grip was immense.
"Aren't life's ironies hilarious?" Balthazar sneered.
With tremendous strength, the demon flung his victim at the tombstone. He rocketed through the air, never uttering a single cry. His body collided into the grave, causing an almighty crash. The granite stone broke into several chunky pieces and scattered across the ground. Chas remained in one piece, but he skidded heavily on his wrecked wings. He lapsed into unconsciousness, his stomach rising and falling doggedly.
"What a shame!" Balthazar sighed. "I shouldn't have been so hasty."
Still, he could always revive the angel and play with him again. Ravenous with hunger, he approached the slumped body. But before he'd taken three steps, a dark silhouette stepped into his route. He immediately recognised the business suit and the formal shoes. His eyes lingered on the shoulders, where two jagged bones jutted from the fabric.
"Gabriel," he sneered. "Do you mind getting out of my way? I haven't eaten all day."
"You've no time," she chided. "You shouldn't even be here. You're meant to be setting the bait, not torturing worthless half breeds."
"There's plenty of time," he snarled. "This worthless half breed was Constantine's apprentice!"
"I know," she stated.
"Then you know his boss is on to us," the demon argued. "He sent this worthless half breed to complicate our plans. I will kill him. Now!"
"I'll handle him," Gabriel announced. "Whilst you set the bait."
"Typical!" he scoffed. "I offer you a job and then you start ordering me around. I preferred it when you were cowering in that pool."
"Go!" she commanded.
Balthazar was absolutely furious. How dare she interfere! She didn't even have any power! He could easily tear her limb from limb! But instead he cast a longing look at the lifeless angel. Chas's head had lolled to the side; red streams slowly guttered from his nostrils. His eyes were firmly sealed, and his brow creased in a painful sleep. Scattered behind him were broken feathers, all saturated in blood. The demon's desires grew unbearable. He needed a taste.
"What are you planning to do with the apprentice?" he demanded.
"I will take him to our hideout," she explained. "And then I'll kill him."
"For the second time!" he scorned. "It really isn't fair! Why should you get to kill the same person, twice?"
"Fine," she exhaled. "If all goes to plan, you can have him for yourself."
"Splendid!" he cheered.
Satisfied with their compromise, he turned his back on Gabriel and Chas. He would leave the graveyard and set the bait.
He'd only taken three steps when his foot crunched down on something hard. He paused momentarily and glanced down. Underneath his shoe lay a familiar square object. He recognised the ornate markings, decorating its golden body. Originally he'd visited the graveyard for this particular relic.
Making sure Gabriel wasn't watching he glanced over his shoulder. She was dragging Chas away. His bleeding wings smeared the muddy ground in crimson. How very colourful!
Balthazar quickly pocketed Constantine's cigarette lighter.
"Soon."
ESTIMATED UPDATE: FRIDAY 16TH SEPTEMBER