Rebellion Reborn, page 30
The sulfurous odor that stung my eyes and nose began to take on a sour taste, like spoiled meat. The temperature continued to increase, and before long, I began to sweat. I passed several forking tunnels, but each offshoot was cooler and smelled less foul. Choosing my path based on the smell and temperature, I continued on for the better part of an hour before the conversation-like sound began to increase in volume and change to a throbbing vibration. The hum continued to increase in intensity the farther I travelled, and I began to hear random high-pitched shrieks mixed in. The sounds were bestial and guttural, and they made my skin crawl with each occurrence. The cries were so feral that they might have been ripped from the creatures making them, and my thoughts instantly shifted to Sarah. I began moving faster despite the possibility of bad air the deeper I travelled.
The passage jogged left, right, rose, and fell any number of times and seemed to go on forever. Then it straightened out and climbed steadily as light flooded in from ahead. Within the incessant humming, I could now distinguish grunts and groans while the screeches bored into my skull like a high-speed drill, simultaneously setting my teeth on edge and freaking me out. I had never heard sounds like that before.
The closer I got to the end of the passageway, the more apprehensive I became. It was a sensation I wasn’t used to, and I didn’t like it.
Maybe I rushed into this. The last time I had faced Ramiel, he had nearly killed me. Now, besides him, I didn’t even know what else I was facing. Fuck it. There’s no way I’m leaving Sarah to face whatever is in there alone. She trusted me to protect her. I pulled the flashlight loose from the spear’s shaft, rolled my shoulders, and walked to the end of the tunnel.
Intense heat hit me like a speeding truck, and I instinctively raised my shield to cover my face for a moment. The tunnel let me out onto a narrow rock ledge that overlooked a massive domed cavern. A spike of blinding-white energy extended straight down from the center of the dome like a bolt of lightning. It had to be energy siphoned from the nexus point from the caverns above us.
The ledge encircled the cavern part of the way around then gave way to carved steps that descended to the floor some thirty feet below. In the center of the cavern floor was an enormous pit of blue-white fire nearly twenty feet across, encircled by a glowing pentagram and sigils carved into the floor. The cavern was easily a few thousand feet across, and from my vantage point, I saw no other entrances or exits.
Hundreds of living things writhed and moved below me, some on legs while others crawled, pulled, or pushed themselves along with various appendages or moved using a disturbing combination of their limbs. None were similar in form, and all were hideous and grotesque mockeries of human beings. Among the misshapen creatures, eight normal but giant humanoids that I guessed to be Bennephilim stood head and shoulders taller than everything else, including twenty other seemingly mundane figures, who were likely humans dressed in hooded black robes.
Off to the far side of the firepit, at the apex of one point of the pentagram, were two gracile and striking naked female forms—one blond and one with red hair. I recognized the blonde from her sanguine aura as Na’amah. She stood, rope in hand, at the head of a line of twelve bound humans, six male and six female—all naked and connected to each other by the rope around their waists. Their hands were tied behind them, but their feet were free. They all stared at the ground, unmoving. I didn’t recognize the redhead with Na’amah, but she projected a greasy blue-gray aura that played off every living thing around her. I may not have known who she was, but she was a Moroi. Given her proximity to the primal succubus, she had to be Eisheth, their progenitor.
Around them stood twelve beings, six of whom emanated the same brownish aura as Na’amah, only less intense. The six had humanoid form, but they were thin with lanky arms and legs, a short body and large round heads with gaping toothy mouths. They were succubi and incubi in their true form. The other six resembled humans in every way except for the same parasitic aura as the redhead. I interrupted a freakin’ demonic family reunion of some kind.
Almost every creature capable of standing was facing the being at the next point of the pentagram to Na’amah and Eisheth’s right. What I saw there caused my stomach to churn and my skin to grow cold.
It was the embodiment of fear—the same unctuous, black, cold mass of energy I’d encountered in New Orleans nearly a hundred years before, only more coalesced and far larger in magnitude. At the center of the nebulous writhing mass, which spread over nearly a quarter of the space below, was the ghostly shape of a giant of a humanoid at least three times the height of the humans, his humanlike features utterly handsome and inhumanly perfect. His extremities were lost in the miasma surrounding him, but his upper body was muscular.
He stood with his face upturned as if basking in the reverence of his followers. The conflict between the comely countenance and the horrific murk disturbed me to my very core. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his visage until something next to him drew my attention to a laser-like focus.
There, to his right, on some sort of rock altar, was Sarah—naked and tied tightly hand and foot. She was also unconscious. My heart pounded, my breathing became shallow, and for a moment, I couldn’t think or even move. I was witnessing everything I had been terrified would happen to her.
Suddenly, a high-pitched, piercing wail erupted from one of the misshapen forms below me, snapping me back to attention. The creatures emitted the humming noise, which sounded like a vast hive of bees. Though I had never encountered one before, they had to be limbo demons, the low-level, barely sentient minions most often summoned and controlled by stronger ones. Not necessarily evil or particularly strong, they took on the personality and strengths of whatever controlled them. And they needed a human host as a conduit for entering our realm. I was staring out over the result of hundreds of human sacrifices. My blood ran cold.
The only sources of significant power other than the bolt of energy from the Nexus came from Na’amah, Eisheth, their minions, and the monstrosity that had to be Ramiel. The limbo demons produced almost no auras at all, and every being in the cavern focused on or reached for the towering figure of Ramiel.
I had no idea what exactly was happening, but I had to act before they sacrificed another one of the humans. Throwing my arms out wide, I howled with all the pent-up fear and building rage inside me. The bellow echoed into a thunderous cry that drowned out every other sound within the cavern. My reputation as the Lord of the War Cry was well founded. Every eye—even Ramiel’s—focused on me, and the incessant humming stopped abruptly.
“Sorry to interrupt the party, but the only way out of this rathole is through me,” I said, my voice thundering, as I gazed across the myriad of misshapen and human faces staring up at me.
“My my, Diomedes,” Na’amah said. “You aren’t even going to give us an ultimatum for the healthy release of Agent Wright?”
“You think Sarah being alive or dead will change my intentions for you? Any of you?” I replied at the top of my lungs. “But you make a point. I tell you what. Let all the humans go—especially Sarah—alive and well. If you harm any of them at all, so much as a single stubbed toe, I swear to you that I will devote the rest of my immortal life hunting down and killing every last wretched offspring in your vile lineages.”
“How dramatic,” she said. “Your ego is indeed impressive. Either that, or you’re too stupid to realize your immortal life is almost over.”
“How many times do you think I’ve heard that in the past three thousand years?” I asked.
“And how many times do you think I have been threatened in my existence, boy?”
“First time by me.” I jumped down into the mass of misshapen demons below.
I landed hard on several demons, crushing one and ramming my spear through the chest of another. Withdrawing the spear from the body, I raised my shield and began pushing straight into the horde between me and Ramiel as fast as I could move, stabbing and bashing anything that got into my way.
Within seconds, I could feel a slight buzzing in my head. I continued fighting forward through the throng of demons as the buzzing increased and began to become comprehensible as speech.
“It has been some time, has it not?” the voice in my head asked. I didn’t hear it as much as feel it resonate inside my skull. I didn’t respond, because conversations with demons rarely ended well.
I spun the Pelian Spear’s blade in a wide arc, slashing several creatures with each pass while creating as much space for myself as I could. I used my momentum, driving the edge of my shield into any demons that skittered close enough, severing limbs and cracking bones.
“You and the so-called messiah’s knights could not defeat me on our last encounter,” the voice boomed in my head. “And you are too late to stop me this time, for it has already begun. I will release my brethren as the Light Bringer finishes its journey, and your world will once again be our world. Cease your futile efforts and exult in our rebirth.”
I glanced up to see how far I had made it, and a second wave of limbo demons swarmed over me. I was still not even halfway to Ramiel, and I was starting to feel my efforts. I could feel the sharp rake of claws or fangs bite into the flesh around my calves, thighs, and arms, but I kept stabbing and swinging the spear, hacking and smashing anything close enough to hit with my shield, but I was quickly becoming overwhelmed.
Rather than advancing, I was focused on merely trying to hold my ground. The limbo demons began attacking in such heavy numbers that I couldn’t keep up even as fast as I was. They weren’t particularly tough or strong, but there were far too many of them. Several of them hammered me from behind, knocking me momentarily to one knee, and a demon raked my hand, almost causing me to drop the spear. My eyes travelled up to the inky-black pall that surrounded Ramiel, and he seemed a thousand miles away. I’ll never make it.
Then I began to feel an upwelling of energy building in my chest and limbs. Several of the demons around me collapsed, and a growing chant echoed through the chamber.
“He shields all who take refuge in him,” said a voice that began to increase in intensity within the cavern.
“Protect us, O God,” a host of voices answered in unison.
“With your help, I can advance against a troop.”
“We will not fear.”
“You have armed me with strength for battle.”
“We fight in your holy name.”
“So great is your power that your enemies cringe before you.”
“Your enemies will fall before us in your name.”
My eyes rose to the entrance above, and the activity around me ceased almost instantly as the terrified limbo demons backed off. I pushed myself back to my feet, using the spear as a crutch, and watched as a plate-mail-clad figure emerged carrying a massive axe. Immense glowing, gossamer-like wings spread to his sides, radiant as the energy from the nexus in the center of the room, and his voice carried clearly over the din around me. Brother Justicar Paul stood at the edge of the pathway as the other Justicars and novices filed in around him, and their singular chant continued undaunted and increased in volume. Paul led, and the rest responded.
“We will pursue your enemies and destroy them.”
“They will fall beneath our feet.”
“As smoke is blown away by the wind, may you blow them away.”
“We will be your wind.”
“As wax melts before the fire, may the wicked perish before God.”
“We will be your fire. He trains my hands for battle.”
“We are your weapons. You will crush the heads of your enemies.”
“We are your mailed fist.”
“Amen!” Justicar Brother Paul slammed the pommel of his giant axe, Vayichar Af Hashem, on the ground.
For the briefest of moments, a towering white-winged figure stood where Paul had been. Its enormous wings beat a single time, and a wave of pure white flame erupted and washed over the space. I slammed the Pelian Spear into the rock floor and held fast as the conflagration washed past me, leaving me unharmed. Dozens of limbo demons around me fell where they stood. The flame instantly obliterated many others, while untold scores of them tumbled across the chamber like dry leaves on a windy day.
But hundreds remained standing, along with Na’amah, Eisheth, their followers, the Bennephilim, and every human minion and prisoner. At the center of it all, Ramiel began to gather his dark energy around himself like armor.
Justicar Brothers Simon, John, Bartholomew, and Peter began running down the pathway to join the fray. They were all dressed like knights of the First Crusade: chainmail hauberks, skirts, and coifs covered by a white tunic with a red cross emblazoned across the chest. Bart and Peter wore great helms and plate coverings over their arms. Simon had chosen to forego head coverings completely, and Joanie wore her coif pushed back. Peter and Bart both wielded bardiches, while Simon used a claymore. Joanie carried a pair of single-handed axes. The four novices remained on the ledge above. Wearing armor similar to the knights’, they were armed with two longbows and two modern crossbows.
Paul, bringing up the rear, charged down the inclined path far more nimbly than I would have expected for someone wearing something like full jousting armor that had to weigh over a hundred pounds. At the bottom of the path, the limbo demons scrambled and scattered like cockroaches in the light as the Justicars waded into them. From the far side of the space, the giant Bennephilim charged toward the Justicars, followed by the robed humans. The vampires and succubi remained on the far side of the fiery pit from me, along with Na’amah and Eisheth.
I debated for a moment about attacking them—until I remembered Sarah. I spun around, trying to locate her on the altar next to Ramiel, who was stamping, albeit quickly, through the crowd of cowering and retreating demons, parting them and brushing them violently aside using the darkness that surrounded him like a snowplow. This is my chance.
I began to run toward the last place I’d seen Sarah. Before I made it more than a few yards, four figures rushed at me from either side of the blazing pit—two Moroi and two succubi. Building speed, I shifted my grasp on the spear from a stabbing grip to a throwing one and launched it at the farthest of the parasitic quartet, impaling the Moroi in the upper chest as the spear passed straight through. The creature stumbled and fell, but I knew it was far from dead. As the spear left my hand, I spun and threw the shield like a discus at the closest of the group in a move that would have made Captain America jealous. It hit a succubus in her torso and nearly cut the creature in half as it shattered her chest. In the next step, I drew both swords and continued my charge.
The remaining Moroi and incubus split up, and I targeted the Moroi, a male. We closed at frightening speed, and just as I readied my attack, the incubus tackled me from my right, sending us both careening off into a crowd of retreating demons. The incubus screeched as two arrows hit it solidly in the flank, and it reared up, flailing its lanky arms. I drove both swords through its stunted ribcage then used them like a pair of scissors to cut the incubus in half. The legs fell away, writhing and twitching, and I shoved the upper body away as I got to my feet. Far from dead, the upper body kept clawing and grasping at me. I kicked at its face with my heel then severed one of its arms above the elbow and rammed the other sword through the top of its head, causing its giant yellow eyes to roll over to black as it started to gurgle. I jerked the sword free and searched the crowd for the Moroi. I was under no illusion that the incubus at my feet was dead, but severely injured would have to do.
Behind me, the five Justicars of the Holy Order went toe to toe with an ancient and primordial demon of immense power—light against dark. Seeing Ramiel’s spectral black veil spread into dozens of tendrils and attack the knights brought back the memories of that night in the small park in New Orleans all those years ago. Visions of Francis’s face frozen in fear and dread caused me to rage as I watched the tendrils hammer at the knights, lighting up the cavern with showers of white sparks as they met the barrage. To a knight, everyone attacked ceaselessly, refusing to give up even an inch of ground, but failing to gain any momentum, either.
For now, it was their fight, though. I had to find Sarah. I began running, hacking and slashing my way through the limbo demons, back in the direction of the altar.
One of the Bennephilim pushed her way through the demons to face me. Carrying a slightly-larger-than-normal buckler in one hand, she began whipping a two-headed flail around with the other. Both of the spiked heads attached to the baseball-bat-like handle were the size of cantaloupes on chains nearly a yard long. With that weapon, her reach was nearly twice mine.
Dirty pool or not, I quickly threw one sword down to stick into the stone floor, pulled the Glock from my hip, and fired off five quick rounds into her center mass. Each round struck with a dull thwap, hitting some sort of ballistic armor, but even given her size and protection, at close range, five rounds to the chest from a forty-five was devastating. She staggered as the impact drove the air from her lungs. As her arms went limp at her sides, the heavy flail smashed into several limbo demons, which, in turn, jerked the weapon from her flaccid hand. The massive woman rocked slightly and blinked heavily as she tried to catch her breath. I fired three more times into her head, and she fell to her knees then slumped to one side. The report of the weapon echoed through the chamber, drawing all attention to me. At least they knew I was a threat at a distance, too. I holstered the weapon, grabbed my sword, and continued working my way toward the altar.
I could now tell exactly where the altar was because, unfortunately, four Moroi surrounded it while a fifth one stood on it, holding Sarah’s limp body with a gun to her head. One of the leeches had a gaping wound in its chest from the Pelian Spear, though it didn’t act much the worse for wear. The parasite holding Sarah was a young man who probably had been in his early twenties when turned, and his sneer suggested he liked causing pain. I wonder how much he likes being on the receiving end.
