Nephilim Rising: The Complete Series, page 82
part #0 of Nephilim Rising Series
But now Leia was back, according to Deacon. It was news that aroused a distracting amount of feelings in Josh, many of them linked to the person he used to be, when he was just Leia’s protective twin brother. That person died the day he was demonized by Abigor. Leia thought she saved him. She was wrong. His soul was darkened the second he became a demon, and that darkness never went away. It never would either. It would only spread until his entire soul went completely dark. He struggled greatly with this for a while, but once he accepted the fact, things got easier. The confusion over who he was, and who he was supposed to be, left him immediately. There was no point in resisting the inevitable anymore. And with Deacon’s help, Josh had been walking his new path ever since.
Leia being back could be a problem, however. He honestly never expected to see her again. From his brief glimpses of Hell while he was with Abigor, to what Deacon told him about the place, Josh thought there was no way his sister could survive it, never mind make it back out. He had all but accepted the fact shortly after she left, that she was gone forever, and that he was never going to see her again. Of course, he was devastated by this; it was his sister after all, the person he had been with his entire life. The person he used to think knew him best, but as it turned out, didn’t.
He couldn’t help but wonder if Leia was going to be a problem now that she was back. When she found out what he was doing, which she inevitably would, would she try to intervene? Would she try to bring him back to the light again? Of course she would. It was Leia; it’s what she did. He wasn’t going to blame her for trying, for being who she was, but he wouldn’t stand for her refusing to acknowledge what he was now.
And what am I now? he wondered absently.
Josh stared out the window toward the The Pit, at the crowd gathered at the front door, held in check by the huge bouncers manning the entrance. Balling his fists, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Very soon he would be in The Pit fighting, and none of his concerns would matter. It would be just him, and whichever foolish individual who thought they had a chance against him.
What am I now? he asked himself again, then answered with:
I’m a fucking force to be reckoned with, that’s what I am…
12
I was so blissed out and content from the love-making, that I didn't want to move from the luxurious bed I was lying in with Lucas. I felt if I just stayed here, my head resting on Lucas' smooth, muscular chest, then all my problems would melt away. By the time we made love for the second time, the rest of the world hardly even existed for me. All that existed was Lucas and the exquisite pleasure he elicited; a pleasure I missed so goddamn much. And indeed, after the second round of love-making, it still wasn't enough. Happily, though, Lucas was more than wiling to oblige my seemingly bottomless desires. He had that wolfish grin on his face the whole time as well, along with that mysterious depth in his eyes; eyes that sometimes glowed a deep purple as they looked into me.
"Your demon self was conspicuous by its absence," I said afterward as I lay back in the bed, that felt like a cloud under me.
"So was yours," he said back. He slid himself up and leaned against the headboard. I lay across the bed and rested my head on his tight stomach, the smell of his skin arousing me all over again.
"Demon Leia is currently melting into a puddle with all this coital bliss." I giggled at the demon inside me. She had felt every ounce of my pleasure and was, for the first time since she came to be, at a loss for words. It was a pleasant change to have her rendered speechless. Sometimes Demon Leia just needed to shut up and absorb the feelings she often struggled to understand with logic. On this occasion, she had been forced into doing exactly that. Lucas didn't just fuck me; he fucked Demon Leia as well, whether he was aware of it or not. And she felt everything. Her mind was blown, and hadn't yet recovered, as she remained lost within her pleasure center. She experienced true pleasure for the first time when Grand Duke Leonard had sunk his fangs into my neck at his Keep back in Hell. Ever since, she had been curious, wanting more. Now she had more. Probably a lot more than she could process, no doubt.
"You all right in there, Sister?" I said aloud.
Words of some kind were uttered in response, but I couldn't make them out. I laughed and shook my head.
"What's funny?" Lucas asked.
"You blew Demon Leia's mind; rendered her unresponsive. Nice job."
"Thank you. I'm here to serve."
"Really?" I rubbed my hand over his semi-erect cock. "Then how about you serve me again..."
Lucas smiled. "After I make us drinks."
He slid out of bed, and I groaned. "Seriously?"
"I’m sure you haven’t had a proper drink since getting home. What will it be?"
"Vodka." Lucas was standing naked by the mini bar, the evening light coming through the open balcony doors, bathing every inch of his dark skin in golden light. "Are you sure you're not an angel?"
Laughing, Lucas said, "Very sure."
"I'm beginning to think there isn't much difference between the two nowadays."
"What do you mean?" Lucas poured two small bottles of vodka into two glasses and brought them over to the bed, handing one of the glasses to me.
The vodka tasted good, certainly better than the swill that passed for booze in Hell. "I just mean that no one is all good or all bad. There's always a sliding gray scale."
"You sure about that? You've been to Hell, remember?"
"I know. It's because I've seen so much that I now think that. I mean, look at you. You're not a big bad demon, are you? Not all the time anyway." I laughed.
"No, not all the time," Lucas said, laughing himself. "But when you've been around as long as I have, seen what I've seen, done what I've done, your perspective changes. We are who we chose to be."
"Not always. I didn't choose to be a Nephilim, or a Watcher."
"You choose it now, though."
I swallowed another mouthful of vodka. "Maybe; I just don't know anything else."
"The universe works in mysterious ways. We don't control everything. Believe me, I’ve tried."
"So we go with the flow then, is that it?"
"Seems to work for the best most of the time, I find."
"A Zen demon." I laughed. "I've heard it all now."
He laughed and put his arm around me. "I've missed you, Leia."
I turned to goo inside and sank into him. "I've missed you too…more than you'll ever know…"
13
Josh pushed through the crowd at the front of The Pit and made his way to the front doors, where he nodded at the burly bouncer—a werewolf—as he walked into the club. Immediately ahead of him was a massive dance floor swarming with bodies, most of whom were inhumans. Some, like the demons walking through the crowd, showed their true faces, as if doing so elevated their status somehow. The throng danced and thrashed around to the driving beats and heavy synth lines pumping out of the PA system. Josh nodded his head in time with the music. It was hard not to. Some of his most interesting and intense experiences happened in this place, most involving fighting, fucking or drinking, or else taking part in the often bizarre, but undeniably erotic, rituals of the sex-magic kind that often took place in the back rooms. The Pit was a hedonist's paradise, and Josh loved it. It was one of the few places where he felt completely comfortable; a place where he felt he belonged.
"Hey champ!" a stranger said, slapping Josh on the shoulder. "I hope you're ready to kick some goddamn ass tonight. We're all betting on you." The guy gestured to his buddies standing behind him.
Josh didn't miss a beat. He smiled and said, "It's a safe bet."
"Yeah! That's what I'm talking about!" The guy slapped Josh on the shoulder again.
Josh moved on, cutting through the crowd to the entrance of a back room that was manned by another bouncer. The bouncer held the door open for Josh as he approached. "Thanks, Beast," Josh said. "It should be you out there tonight."
Beast, a giant inhuman of unknown origin with the power to crush skulls with one hand, gave some approximation of a smile, before saying in a voice that rumbled through Josh, "It wouldn't be fair. You know that."
"Yes, I do. And that's why I'm glad you're such a gentleman, Beast."
Beast smiled a surprisingly warm smile for someone of his intimidating stature. "Good luck."
Josh walked down a narrow hallway, the sound of the crowd already gathered in the fight pit coming through the walls, causing his adrenaline to spike slightly. It was the first real indicator to him that the fight would soon be on. He rarely knew who he was going to fight until they turned up, which didn't bother Josh at all. He would take on anyone. A fight was a fight.
At the end of the hallway, there was a door to the right. Josh opened it and stepped inside a small room that smelled of damp and sweat. A few lockers were lined up against one of the walls. A full-length mirror hung on another wall, next to a grimy sink. Two plastic chairs also sat in the room. Josh went to one of the lockers and opened the combination lock. Inside were a few towels and a bottle of whiskey, along with a pair of black fight shorts. As he began to get ready, the door opened. A freakishly muscular man walked into the room, closing the door behind him.
"Titus," Josh said. "Come to warm me up?"
"You don't need warming up," Titus said in a gravelly voice. "I come to tell you who your opponent is tonight."
Josh removed his T-shirt, exposing his tightly muscular torso. "I don't care who it is. They all bleed the same."
Titus stood with his tree trunk arms by his side, his massive chest threatening to burst through the black T-shirt he was wearing. He ran the fight pit for whoever owned the club, just as he used to in Hell. "You'll be fighting one of your own tonight."
Josh froze for a second. "Another Nephilim?"
Titus nodded his stone block of a head. "Think you can handle it?"
Josh smirked. "You’re really asking me that? I told you before, I don't care what they are. The guy will go down like the rest." He smiled. "Still, should be interesting. I've never fought another Nephilim before."
Except for my sister, and that didn't turn out so well.
He shook the thought from his mind.
"This guy seems dangerous enough," Titus said. "He has a reputation in a few other cities. Got skills, I hear."
"Are you here just to fuck with my head, Titus? I'll know everything I need to know about the guy within thirty seconds of fighting him. Until then, if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone."
Titus grunted like a pig. Behind his human mask was a face with dark green skin and tusks. "You're on in fifteen minutes. Don't keep the crowd waiting."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
When Titus left the room, Josh removed his jeans and boxer shorts and put on his tight black fight shorts. Then, standing in front of the mirror, he began to bounce gently in a fighting stance, as he allowed his mind to slip into the Zone: that place where nothing else existed but the need to fight, and the absolute will to win. Even Deacon, in his absence, couldn't penetrate the Zone. Josh had done this too many times now to allow himself to get distracted. From inside the Zone, the outside world didn't exist anymore. There was just him and his opponent; and the crowd. In that sense, the Zone was the purest possible place in the world for Josh. More importantly, it was a place that he controlled, regardless of his opponent. Sure, luck could play a part, and often did when it came to fighting. But fighting was also a battle of wills, and in that sense, Josh was in control, his will always greater than his opponents. That's the real reason he was reigning champion. Skill was only half of it.
Josh stared hard into the dark brown eyes of his reflection, as though he was trying to psych himself out. He was in the Zone completely. Grace, combined with darker energies, coursed through him like a powerful electric current, sparking over his knuckles as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
The crowd noises seemed to get louder, more insistent, as they chanted his name. "Destroy-er! Destroy-er! Destroy-er!"
That was him:
The Dark Destroyer.
14
Thick shipping rope marked the perimeter of the ring, which was twenty feet in diameter. The floor was concrete and covered in sawdust that soaked up the blood from the previous fights. The air in the fight pit was hot and humid with so many bodies crammed into one small space, the tightly packed crowd jammed into the metal stands placed right around the ring. Lighting in the room came from a couple of large halogen lamps hanging directly overhead, throwing down a warm yellowish light that barely made it over the crowd. When you looked out from the ring, all you could see was shadowy faces demanding violence and bloodshed. The crowd would not be satisfied until they had both. Luckily for them, every single fight had both in spades. Fights in the pit had no rules. Every fight was billed as a fight to the death, and very often was, unless the victor elected to show mercy. Josh had never done so.
He stood on one side of the pit, barely registering the cacophony of the crowd noise surrounding him. When he first started to fight here, the crowd noise had been overwhelming, adding to his adrenaline. Now, after so many fights, he had learned to block it out, and feed on it when necessary; an easy thing to do when most of the crowd was there to see him anyway—the Dark Destroyer, as he came to be known, more for his ruthless efficiency in the ring than for his dusky appearance.
Across the pit was his opponent. He was roughly the same weight and height as Josh, standing at just over six feet, weighing around two hundred pounds, going by the name, The Reaper, according to the vampire announcer standing between them. He was also well built, although his musculature wasn't as dense as Josh's. Josh had been training to fight since he was a young kid, and it showed on his physique, which although big, was stripped of subcutaneous fat, the muscles and tendons hard from years of punishing training. The Reaper was like Josh in one important way, though. Although he was Nephilim, he wasn't a Watcher. If he were, he wouldn't be fighting tonight. He was like many other Nephilim in the city who woke up in adulthood to find they had powers, but had no one there to explain things or guide them into the Watcher life, so they end up putting their powers to other uses, like committing crimes and fighting for money. By the looks of The Reaper, he wasn't here for the money; he was here for the sport. Josh could see the glee of anticipation in his blue eyes, the exact same look that was in Josh's eyes also.
This should be interesting. He looks ready.
They all did, though, at the start; until Josh wore them down, using their frustration and anger against them.
"All right, gentlemen," the tall vampire announcer cut in loudly, looking between Josh and The Reaper. "Fight!"
As soon as he said it, he stepped off to the sidelines as the crowd roared in delight that the fight was beginning at last. There was no referee—just the two fighters.
Josh and his opponent circled each other in the ring, a few feet between them. The Reaper seemed relaxed, in no hurry to attack. Josh was in no hurry either, as he continued circling, occasionally making small moves toward his opponent just to see what he would do. The Reaper didn't over-react to any of them, just drew back slightly and kept circling. Josh was impressed with his opponents restraint and apparent calmness. Most fighters in the pit behaved like animals, attacking constantly, always going for the kill. It was refreshing to come across another fighter as obviously strategic as himself. If he didn't have such absolute confidence in his abilities, he might have been afraid, or at the very least, unnerved by his opponent.
But he wasn't.
And he showed his opponent as much, by sliding forward suddenly and planting a front leg push kick into his opponent's chest, sending The Reaper flying back a few steps. The crowd roared at the kick, though the Reaper managed to keep his balance, and indeed, smiled over at Josh like the kick hadn’t fazed him.
Josh smiled back as he began to circle again. It was early days. His opponent wouldn't be so unfazed when the attacks got more frequent—and more powerful.
The Reaper launched his own opening attack after that, which is exactly what Josh was hoping he would do—what he knew he would do. It was a chance to see what kind of skills the guy had. After a quick flurry of straight shots that didn't land, The Reaper turned into a spinning back fist that ended up catching Josh on the jaw, sending him staggering to the side. It was unexpected, but he recovered quickly. The Reaper could have capitalized on the shot, followed up with another attack, but he didn't, instead going back to circling slowly with a slight grin on his face.
The crowd was in uproar, excited by the newcomer's obvious skill. The reigning champion had a worthy opponent tonight, and the crowd loved the fact.
All right, let's see what this guy is really made of…
Josh started to close the distance between as they kept circling each other. When he was close enough, he threw a lightning quick right cross that landed right in the center of his opponent's face, breaking his nose.
You should have hit me harder when you had the chance…
The Reaper staggered back as blood ran from his ruptured appendage. Much of his former glee had now gone from his eyes, replaced by a less affected look of aggression and hatred, fueled by a desire not just to survive, but to win. After wiping blood from his face, The Reaper shot forward, spinning around twice to gain momentum before jumping into the air and bringing one leg crashing down toward Josh's head. The kick missed by inches, but The Reaper followed up immediately with a right cross that caught Josh on the jaw, sending him crashing down to the floor, his face throbbing from the blow. It was a hard punch, but not hard enough to put Josh out. As The Reaper's fist came flying down toward his head again, Josh pushed to his feet, leaning away to avoid the punch, at the same time landing a hook punch into The Reaper's ribs, almost smiling with satisfaction as he heard the crack of bone under his knuckles. The Reaper doubled over and Josh rammed the point of his knee into the side of his opponent’s head, sending the guy staggering away from him, to eventually fall to the floor in a daze.
