Chapter 7: Judgment day
Calm down-
Feeling his breath accelerate, Izaya's eyes stuck to the rough texture of the wooden door. Cut from a tree and polished with what seemed to be wax it served a rustical, old and fairly sturdy sight.
But no matter its construction- fending off a man would be the easiest task at hand- but a goddess?
As if on cue, Izaya's eyes caught movement on the ground and his eyes followed before he could doubt his action.
Eyes.
Dark and unforgiving the goddess head had crept forth from underneath the door's gap. Grin broad and death bringing teeth growing on sight she chuckled and Izaya's breath stopped then an-
"Are you satisfied?"
Gone.
Slight irritation flashed across the goddess expression in what must have been barely a second at most and just like that she disappeared.
Dumbstruck and very much running high on adrenaline, Izaya's gaze stuck to the empty ground below his feet.
Gone-
She really was-
"Sir?" Having completely ignored the words spoken previously Izaya's head slowly turned as he faced the source of them.
The innkeeper. Or waitress- whatever she was. It was the lady that had given him the room. Ascending the last step of the stairs she arrived at the top.
A plate was resting in her arms, filled with an array of cheese, sausages and bread. Chewing loudly on one of the goods she raised a judging brow.
Izaya found himself answering faster than he was able to comprehend the situation. "Very much so."
A smile spread across her expression and she nodded. "Good."
Steps were taken and before Izaya knew it she had passed him.
Old and rusty keys clunked against one of the many doors in the corridor and she hummed a melody to herself as she entered what Izaya believed to be her own room.
Eyes following by nature instead of will, Izaya couldn't help but watch her movements as she put the plate on a desk similar to the one in his own room.
Why?
A window was opened and Izaya turned.
Tight and slow as if some kind of current were going to carry him away, Izaya descended the flight of stairs.
Why?
Swallowing harshly he tried to ignore the harsh beats of his heart hammering inside his ears.
This god- No, there was no way a creature of that kind was a god. What kind of god would divulge herself in the misery of people? Or even one individual only? It made no sense-
Nothing he did should rectify this-
And yet here he was.
"Look at the drenched rat!" Accumulated laughter gushed around Izaya like a warm summer breeze. He should feel offended by the way these disgusting bastards that didn't even know how to wash themselves dared to judge him and yet right now he was actually glad.
Glad for the noise. For the chatters and burps coming from the various tables.
It had been a theory at most. That the goddess was refraining from appearing in a location with too many eyewitnesses.
Izaya thought it to be her quirk. A personality trait.
Maybe she wanted to take her time devouring him or torturing, whatever it was that she had in mind. He thought it to be not a limitation but more of a game.
But the goddess' expression had changed that view considerably.
Moving over to the tables Izaya chose the one that was kept occupied by only one man. He had passed out over his beer and his face was resting in the midst of his plate.
It was a disgusting sight at first glance, and the second he woke he would probably vomit whatever his stomach contained over the place. It was the reason why this table was the only one left with vacant seats and shunned by everyone present.
But Izaya cared more for the symbiose of its location.
Far to the right it was as far from the door and window as possible. It was quiet, no one was going to bother him, yet Izaya was still surrounded by drunk men.
Feeling his mind clear and thoughts becoming less jumbled he took a deep breath as he sat down on a vacant chair.
His hands folded and he closed his eyes shortly.
The goddess.
The moment the innkeeper appeared she had worn a sour expression. As if someone had just spoilt her game.
If attacking him with no people present was just a favorable action, then why did she not just kill the innkeeper? She could have easily done so.
Dragging Izaya back into his room, locking the door, it would have been child's play to execute whatever it was that she had in mind for him.
So why?
Why did she not attack?
Eyes snapping back open the door to the inn opened and for a second Izaya's skin jumped. His pulse raced harder than he liked it to before the new guests came to light.
It was just the guys from before. Pissing at the horse stalls.
They had merely returned.
Calm down-
He wasn't alone.
She stayed behind the window for a reason.
But which?
No. Did the reason really matter?
The facts were simple.
He needed to stay with people.
A tinge of a sour expression crossed his face as he realized his earlier mistake.
Running from the banquet had been an action he had taken because he thought the goddess would jump from one host to the next.
He thought he could outrun her by losing all living contact.
With this new revelation he might as well have stayed there.
Regret accumulated over his rash actions, but quickly dissipated as his mind cleared.
No.
Staying would have ended up being a worse choice.
They would have headed home eventually. Him and his newfound family.
And what then?
Would he have asked his sister to sleep in his room for the sake of not being alone? His mother? Or father? Who was to say the goddess wasn't going to possess one of his family members next? Or the staff?
A certain rule seemed to prevail and limit the goddess' ability to possess just anyone or she would have slipped into the innkeeper's body.
So what was it that Carlyle had done to suffer that fate?
No, regardless of the limitations, prevailing for Izaya's best interest he should view every human as a possible host.
All in all he would have ended up alone in some corridor of the mansion in the long run.
But here at this inn?
Drunktards were anything but good company, but they were company nonetheless.
There were those that started to drink in the evening and stayed until the sun rose. Then there were early guests, getting up sober and coming down for food. Midday the inn would be bursting with hunger and so the cycle would repeat itself.
Crossing one leg over the other Izaya regained a sense of confidence.
He was safe.
This inn was unexpectedly the perfect hiding spot.
… question was, what now?
He had a lot of money to spare back at his room. Getting it would not take much. He would simply ask the innkeeper to fetch her payment herself.
He could stay for as long as his money lasted and considering the sum she gave him in return that would be quite a while.
And even if it didn't last- with this many customers at hand it would be easy to get his hands on someone's wealth.
Watching another set of dice roll across a different table he spotted more than enough chances to earn his night's worth in a set of games. Some people were playing with cards too. Drunken and stupid as they were, it would be child's play to rid them of their wealth. No one in this setting would be able to keep up with his intelligence and wits.
… but then, what?
Was that his life, really? Was he going to stay in this shithole, holed up like a mole, until the day the goddess finally got her hands on him?
To hell with that-
Anger mixed with frustration burst in a short show of displeasure as his loose fist met the table.
"The gateway, the gateway!" Laughter burst from the far end of the inn and Izaya's head turned upon the voice. "The gateway opened again and no one knows why! The demon lord is rising and he needs to be stopped!"
Apart from various tables, smoke and beer, the inn also possessed a fireplace to the far left.
Well.
Of course it did.
In terms of heating and keeping people from freezing, fire was about the only source of warmth they could abuse.
Searching for the source of the voice Izaya spotted an old geezer right next to it.
Wearing ragged clothes that had been torn in multiple spots and layered atop of each other he raised his famished arms into the air. Dirt, warts and various blemishes of old age decorated his skin and caused the men surrounding him to take their distance in disgust.
"Judgment day has come!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, not without spitting from missgrown yellowed teeth and one of the guests sitting at the fireplace grunted in annoyance.
"Shut up already, you make my beer go bad," he announced, and lifted his jug. Laughter circled inside the inn as the geezer was doused.
But except for coughing for a moment he didn't let himself be stopped as he relentlessly continued and his voice grew even louder. "There will be no beer once we all go to hell!" The stare in his yellowed eyes spoke of insanity and the way he forced his body to move spoke of little lifetime left.
He was a maniac. A Snake oil seller.
And yet- something about those words caused Izaya's ears to perk.
This world.
Apart from containing a goddess, he had found inscriptions about the use of something that had looked like magic.
Nothing but offense and disgust was directed towards the maniac as he was rudely shoved away from the fireplace.
Only Izaya wasn't as his eyes glinted with interest.
…hell, huh?
A goddess was at his heels.
No human could hope to kill a god. At least not easily and without sacrificing an array of soldiers at least.
So who was left to kill her?
... maybe a demon.
And so his leg's moved as he rose from the table.
"Owner, can I kick this guy?" A fresh beer had been brought over upon a quick sign and the innkeeper was standing right next to the annoyed guest.
"You shall not! For I have what it takes to venture to hell!" the maniac screamed and the woman obviously contemplated the offer.
"Hey, stop it. I know you paid in advance, but if you can't behave yourself then-" she didn't even get to finish her words as the maniac jumped to his feet. A chair was ascended and before she knew it the man lacking vanity stood on top of a table, one foot firmly set in another customer's plate and the other kicking his beer.
"Now I ask you brave knights and warriors who is brave enough to follow my call? Who is brave enough to face the demon lord and kill him in his own realm?!"
With those words the maniac reached inside his clothes and a glass bottle was drawn forth. Strung by threads of horsehair and filled with substance of doubtable color it looked more like poison than anything consumable.
Not even a glance was spared at the liquid as the surrounding guests laughed. "Ain't seeing no knights here." One of them yelled from afar and the volume only increased.
Vanity flashed in the maniac's eyes as he screeched- "This potion will open the gateway to hell- just one sip and you will be able to go down!"
"Then drink it and go!" Again they laughed and the frustration in the old geezer's eyes grew tenfold. "Is no one brave enough to investigate?!" he screamed, and kicked the plate he had been standing on off the table.
The contents flew and half of them landed on the guest they belonged to. A man of muscular stature. Not drunk from what Izaya could tell, but definitely not someone the maniac should start a fight with.
"Old man, I have been taught to respect my elders, but you are really making it hard to live up to that," he spoke slowly, his voice containing the rage he suppressed- but the maniac didn't listen to a single syllable spoken.
"The border is thin as of today's full moon! One sip of this and you will be able to walk among the demons!" he declared as loud as humanly possible, and the guest stood.
"Alright," he mumbled slowly as the chair screeched along the ground. Cheers rowed through the crowd and yet the geezer still didn't stop.
"Infiltrate hell, overthrow the devil, stop judgment day-!"
Cracking his knuckles the guest glared at the maniac. "You didn't want it any other way." Quicker than the old geezer could react, the man brought him off the table by clutching the hem of his clothes. A short squeal of surprise and maybe fear flashed across the maniac's eyes and the man raised his fist-
And stopped.
Swiftly having moved over there was an unexpected hand touching his own and the guy turned startled.
It was Izaya who had executed the motion. Quickly bringing up his hands to show his good will and non-existent intention to challenge the guy to a fight he showed his best smile.
"Now, now, I think you are too strong of an opponent for this maniac. Murder doesn't really fit the mood of a nice evening, does it?" A silent grunt followed as the guy retracted his arm.
"What's it to you?" he barked annoyedly and Izaya shrugged.
"Nothing, honestly. But having the floor stained by this flea packed bastard's blood would certainly serve a foul mood, no?"
Unnatural silence of quiet whispers followed as the cheers of the crowd had stopped. Looking towards the innkeeper the guy contemplated Izaya's words and with a short sigh he sat back down at his table.
"Fine," he grunted, "Owner, another please." And with that the situation was in control. Feeling the hint of a smirk drawn to his expression, Izaya shortly wailed in the power he had over these idiots with nothing more than simple words.
This world, were it not so god damned disgusting and void of pleasure, would really just be a game in his hands.
"I thank you kind sir, how can I repay you? I have to say I don't have much money on hand." The maniac suddenly said quietly and Izaya noted with appreciation that he wasn't as much of a madman as he thought. At least he comprehended his current situation- that was more than Izaya needed.
Offering his palm Izaya smiled. "Hand me the potion." A quizzical expression crossed the madman's wrinkled face as he glanced at Izaya's palm. Quick and quiet, because Izaya could really use at least a little bit of reputation, he leaned in and whispered. "And while you are at it, tell me everything you know about your hell."
to be continued~
Now my dear friends, you might already have realized where this is going xD In case the title and my former hints in other stories weren't enough- well, let's just say Izaya's surroundings might change a little bit as of next chapter C: xD