CHAPTER 20 - "SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 1666"

The city was quiet on this Sunday night just after the midnight hour as most of its inhabitants were sleeping in the city of London.

But social cogs still inhabited the local pubs and inns and there were prostitutes walking the lined streets, despite a devastating prior year dealing with the outbreak of the bubonic plaque. Last year, 1665, had been known as the "Plaque Year" where a great deal of people had died and were still dying by an illness brought on by filthy conditions in London streets and other diseases carried by rodents and other animals.

With his powers, Damascus could instantly cure the entire city with a whisk of a hand and completely eliminate all plague everywhere, but it was not his place to do so. And Morning Star would certainly not be pleased if he did so. He was a demon, and human decrepitation brought on this plaque. It was their doing, their fault - so let them deal with the consequences. And besides, it provided more souls for Morning Star, and there were more than enough sinners in this city to fill a thousand large caldrons for him to ingest, scorn, and watch suffer for all eternality.

But not all Londoners were bad, they only made bad choices based on the available options they were given. People had to live, but by doing what they wished - this is how the plague started. Narrow alleyways were garbage dumps and when it rained, streets filled with filth, and washed into the River Themes, polluting drinking water. Rats, feral cats and dogs, even the homeless, filled the streets, redistributing diseases to others, carrying flees that jumped onto people, or airborne contaminates, infecting them.

And then were was the aristocracy who shunned the local population and lived in luxury in the country beyond the slum suburbs, caring nothing for city dwellers, believing them were beneath them. The wealthy wished to live at a convenient distance from the traffic-clogged city. And then there was constant introduction of immigrants, who had come to London for a better life, but were then shunned themselves.

And in a way, Damascus felt sorry for them. Not only for their continuous suffering, but for their continuous civil wars, and how, no matter the outcome, humans never learned. With every generation, it seemed they were doomed to repeat the same mistakes without any chance at reprieve. And these people were the descendants, immigrants who had spread out, of his once proud Roman heritage.

But he was not here to place judgment on them. He was in the city on another matter and an issue of great importance. He was on a mission for Morning Star himself.

He watched as a tall man in dark clothes and a hooded cloak entered a local bakery across the alleyway on Pudding Lane Damascus stood in. He hid in the shadows so not to be seen, but he could cloak himself invisible if he wished using his powers. But if he did so, then others of his kind would notice him who were also in the human world, sensing his energy, blowing his cover, and he wished to remain hidden naturally.

The bakery belonged to a Mr. Thomas Farriner, a very renown baker. He was a smaller man from the average height citizen with a stoutish body and had white hair. He was in his mid-fifties.

Damascus didn't know Farriner personally, only be reputation. And people he spoke to spoke of him highly and they claimed he was the best baker in all of London, everyone buying their sweets and cakes from him. He was also a very highly respected philanthropist in his own rite and often gave to charities to help the homeless and local orphanages. But Damascus could sense a sadness engulfed around his bakery, for Ferrier had no family to speak of. He lived alone and baked alone, employing no one. Baking was his entire life. And it was rumored that he baked with "love", so everything he made was extra delicious.

However, it was human food - a taste Damascus had lost a longingly for a long time ago. Demons didn't need food to survive, they devoured souls for nourishment. Although they could eat human food if wished. And this is what brought Damascus here this night, not for the food but for one of Farriner's favorite customers. An individual Damascus had been stalking for a very long time even before this mission.

Decco. And he brought two other demons with him.

But Damascus couldn't see who they were as their faces were obscured by cloaked hoods. Decco was the only one Damascus recognized, with his hood down and the demon's face and black hair showing. He had been following Decco, and Decco had been coming to Farriner's bakery once a month for a while to pick up a large order of sweets and cakes, candy, and other assorted chocolate goodies. Decco was notorious for having a sweet tooth.

Damascus also wanted to ask Decco a question of his own, and in sense, it did relate to Morning Star's mission. To the many "disruptions" Decco and his allies were causing both in the demon world and human world, throughout it all, Master Belial had gone missing, and no one knew where he had disappeared to. The last time Damascus had seen his master was only a month after the massacre at Roanoke in 1590. Since then, no one had seen Belial since Morning Star had sent him to once again tame Decco.

Had Decco done something to Master Belial to cause his disappearance?

Damascus most assuredly thought so, but he had very few clues to work with. Decco had refused to heed to any summons by Morning Star which went towards a sure fire feeling of guilt by Damascus, and it made him a rogue demon. And was why Damascus was here, albeit in secret.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was to walk right up to Decco and demand answers from him, creating an unwarranted scene. For one, Decco would not heed to threats, and second, Master Belial was correct, Damascus was not powerful enough to defeat Decco despite all his training and skills at the present time, especially when Decco had brought two other demons with him.

When the trio entered the bakery, that was still open this late at night, Damascus crept across the street and peaked through the foggy, multi-framed glass window of the shop. He could see everything inside from his perspective, and if he listened closely, he would be able to hear everything said as well.

"Ah, Mr. Decco, and distinguished gentlemen," Farriner said, his arms opened wide in greeting. "It is very late, but I managed to fill your order. I expected you much earlier in the evening."

"Something came up, but I am pleased you stayed up for us," Decco said.

"Your order this time was very large, but I managed to fill it in what I feel was in record time. You said you wanted everything ready within three days time. You are a busy man, I imagine, and needed this done. Is it for a grand celebration? A party? A wedding, perhaps?"

Decco shook his head with a smirk on his face. "Neither. This is all for me."

Farriner nodded, shrugging his shoulders. "To each his own. A man with a sweet tooth, indeed."

Farriner went into a back room and then rolled out a large, three-tier chocolate frosted cake with white icing balanced on a metal trolley. On the second, lower shelf, of the trolley were more sweet assortments. On tables around the shop, Farriner gestured to the rest of Decco's order. Indeed it was a large order. Decco was gluttonous and yet stayed so trim. Damascus knew other demons who loved human sweets and were fatter than cows.

"Magnificent, Mr. Farriner, you have truly out done yourself," Decco said.

"I am pleased you like everything you see. Shall it be cash or credit?"

"With tonight's order, I am also here to wipe clean my credit with you."

Farriner looked wide-eyed with excitement. He clapped his hands. "Wonderful, Mr. Decco! If you would give me a minute, I will calculate the total accumulated over the months of our business association. With your account paid, I will finally be able to expand my business."

Farriner turned as if to get his accounts log, but Decco spoke up. "Mr. Farriner, I think you misunderstand me." Farriner looked back at him. "While it is true I owe your quite a sum of money, I am not here to settle accounts. I am here to say good-bye."

"What do you mean?"

It was then one of the other demon's lashed out with an arm and with nails as long as swords and sliced Farriner with four vertical gashes from his throat down to his pelvis. Blood spewed out from all four open wounds, and for a moment, Farriner just stood there frozen in time, his eyes open wide with complete and utter shock of his impeding death. Then he collapsed like a sack of flour and lay in a puddle of his own blood.

"Get the sweets and lets go," Decco said. "I'll miss this place, but all good things must come to an end."

The demon who murdered Farriner retracted his nails and ushered the sweets' trolley to the door; the second demon opened his hood. The demon was scarred with burn marks across the face and neck. Damascus knew him, his name was Pyro. The other demon with the long, extending fingernail claws was called Nailz.

Pyro took a deep breath and spit fire, igniting the shop in flames.

Damascus had seen enough and burst through the window, shattering the frame and sending glass throughout the now aflame bakery. Decco had shielded himself from the flying glass, but then dusted himself off. He was not shocked to see Damascus.

Damascus gazed hard at Decco. "Where is Master Belial?" he demanded.

"Are you still on the hunt for that foolish old man?" Decco said. "He disappeared seventy-six years ago."

"And you had something to do with it!"

"It has not escaped my eye that you have been stalking me all these years, ever since the old man vanished. I haven't seen him for a long time."

"You were being foolish and reckless again, he went to stop you. Since that day, no one has seen him. Morning Star has also summoned you to his presence, but you refuse to heed his call. Why?"

"Morning Star is the master of Hell, but he does not own demons. Most demons blindly follow him because they are too stupid and fearful of his wrath. I am neither. My powers are acute and highly skilled; Master Belial was a good teacher. I will no longer heed to a being who rules under the guise of empty fear. A revolution is coming, Damascus. Hell is about to explode in a civil war and a new power is rising. Will you chose the ride side to be on?"

"You?"

Decco shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe." But then he chuckled. And Damascus knew his answer. "Nailz, Pyro - destroy him!" Decco ordered.

Decco's two allies forced Damascus outside into the street and he defended himself from a series of martial arts kicks and punches from the duo. But they were amateurish at best. In his travels, Damascus had befriended several ninjutsu masters on the island of Japan who taught him many of their special techniques, and he used them against this pair. When Nailz swung at him, and he ducked, he quickly grabbed Nailz' arm and snapped in down, breaking the bone. The demon screamed, and backed away to lick his wounds.

Pryo became more flamboyant when martial arts failed to work on Damascus and began to spit fire at him. For a demon, fire was a breath of fresh air, but Damascus avoided it anyhow, and sidestepped an attack. Then jabbed a fist into Pyro's cheekbone, cracking his jaw. In the meantime, Nailz had recovered. For demons, it didn't take them long to heal themselves, and Nailz sliced through the air with his claws, and managed to catch Damascus in the chest. But just barely, slicing the front of his clothes open.

Nailz snickered. But Damascus didn't take heed to his now ripped clothes and avoided even more attacks by the sinister demon. Unrelenting attacks, displacing the air with his claws; Damascus feeling every air displacement. Nailz' claws were razor sharp and after seeing what they did to Farriner, Damascus had no doubt those claws could harm him as well, maybe even slice him in half. And that would not be fun.

The fire spread in the bakery, and suddenly something exploded inside showering debris. Nailz and Pyro fled from the explosion, but Damascus merely ducked as the oven itself, ripped from its housing in a wall, came flying out into the street and over him, and bounced through the window of an adjacent clothing shop. Damascus smirked, somewhat amused, and he didn't know why. Perhaps it was the fact seeing the oven bouncing like a ball, that it looked funny.

But that moment of distraction was all it took for Decco to attack him from inside the bakery, sending an invisible push of displaced air to launch Damascus through the air and into the clothing shop, crashing into display cases and racks of clothes. He slowly got to his feet, and found himself wearing a yellow woman's large rimmed hat with a corset draped over his left shoulder. This was a woman's clothing shop.

Nailz and Pyro stepped over the demolished threshold of the shop and they chuckled.

Damascus flicked off the corset and tossed away the hat as he straightened on his feet. "Not my thing, I prefer men's attire. And yellow is not my color. Black goes with everything, especially to a demon." With a wave of two fingers, Damascus goaded them on to attack him. "Round two, gentlemen. Let's have at it!"

William T. Spears, head of Reaper Affairs, watched the battle between the demon who was named Damascus against two other demons named Nailz and Pyro, and a third watching called Decco, through the spherical "Looking Glass" receptacle in the Watch Room in Reaperdem headquarters with a careful eye. This was something he did not know about the demon who would later me renamed by Ciel Phantomhive Sebastian Michaelis, and he found watching this demon's past through Mathu Kelvin intriguing.

The being who possessed Mathu Kelvin, a Fallen Reaper, was able to enter Sebastian's mind and watch what the demon was dreaming, hence, so was William. A ghost, and descendant of the Phantonhive line: Renfrew Phantomhive, had put Sebastian into this unconscious state for a transgression the ghost said Sebastian was guilty of - attempting to access secret information hidden inside Lukas Phantomhive's mind. He said he did so to protect or hide a terrible secret.

Again, Lukas Phantomhive is the culprit to more chaos in the human world. I almost wish the boy had been killed all those years ago. And how did Mathu Kelvin return? Sebastian had banished him to Hell. I may have to intercede in this affair without the Council's authority for the best of all, and deal with the consequences at a later time. Too many secrets are being revealed, both Reaper and demon. Humans are not suppose to know such things.

William fixed his glasses, and continued to watch through the Looking Glass the battle - in Sebastian's past - with interest. This play-by-play of Sebastian's uprising - this origin of a demon.

To be continued...