Angel's Demon

1. Dead

1. Dead

If evil was a disease, Gahan had been consumed by it. There was no spark of the man he had once been. The tiny aura of pure white light I had seen clinging to his skin was gone. Instead, a dark, smoky aura, with tendrils that caressed his body, had taken its place. Gahan would not stop until we were all dead. It was time for this to end, one way or another.

“Helena, do you know how to kill a false angel?” Gahan asked. I turned my attention back to him, though didn’t answer. He tapped the hilt of a knife that was strapped to his left arm. “With a bloodied blade.”

“Satan’s blood can’t hurt me,” I told him matter-of-factly.

“Who said it was Satan’s blood?” he replied.

Gahan pulled the blade from its sheath. It was then that I knew the truth of what he said. I recognised the knife, the stain of my blood having changed the colour of the blade to a dull brownish-red. Master Rahab had used it to try and cut Gina out of my womb. The blade didn’t look like it had been cleaned since that day, and very likely had been handled as little as possible. Could it be true? How ironic, if I was to be the cause of my own downfall.

“The blood has become part of the blade now,” Gahan said, turning it from side to side in the sunlight. “Truly a magnificent weapon. It kills any creature I touch it with, not unlike your own blade, Death. The difference is that this one does not need to make a cut. A simple touch suffices.”

“Then why aren’t you dead?”

“The blade has chosen me. I hear it sing, whenever it kills. Do you know what that’s like?”

I kept my mouth tightly shut. Death sang to me whenever it took a life. At times it was intoxicating, especially when Death was pleased with the kill. I saw the faraway look in Gahan’s eyes. Yes, he’d heard a song all right.

Here was a man who would stop at nothing to achieve what he had set out to do. We were evenly matched in strength, though I had more experience. He would keep on killing until I had no choice but to face him one-on-one.

I would do the same, and have, I thought to myself. But this is different. He’s not cutting away a cancer.

Come to me, blade. Nothing happened. Come to me, blade.

“Pathetic,” Gahan sneered. “Can’t you see that the blade is bound to me? It answers to no call, save my own. Even the lord of the dark realm could not take it away from me, were he so inclined.”

I needed to end it here and now, if the bloodshed was to stop. How though? If I lost, what would happen to Danny, and Gina’s angel followers? I shivered as horrific images flashed briefly in my mind, the kind that would make a despot smile with glee. I had to find a way to stop him, even if it meant … even if it meant forfeiting my own life.

A bargain with Satan perhaps? I idly thought.

“He sent me,” Gahan laughed, distracting me from my thoughts.

“Who did?” I asked, though I was sure I knew who wanted me dead — Asmodeus.

“Satan, of course,” he said smugly. “If you yelled it any louder, even these pathetic mortals would have heard.”

There were two things that stunned me about what Gahan had said. The first was that, if he was to be believed, Satan wanted me dead. The second, that he’d heard my thoughts.

“Don’t worry,” Gahan said. “I can’t hear everything that’s going on in your head … it’s a very noisy place. You do shout some things though.”

Great, I thought to myself as quietly as I could. What else have I been shouting at him?

“So, if he can’t have me, no one can?” I asked.

“Not quite.” Gahan grinned at me. “You are a tiger that can’t be tamed — a man-eater. You know what happens to man-eaters, don’t you?”

An idea that did not leave room for second thoughts had come to me as he talked. I already knew what the outcome would be. The only way for me to kill him was for me to allow him to take my life. As I died, so would he. I wasn’t afraid to die. My life to save the lives of those I loved was a small price to pay.

“Yeah, yeah,” I replied. “They get put down, but not without a fight … and I’m going to give you a hell of a fight.”

I took two steps forward, made a fist with my right hand and punched him in the mouth, hard enough to draw blood, and make him take a step backwards. As I did so, I gently reached out with my mind and tethered his heart to mine. My striking him was simply an act to mask my real intent, by making him focus on the blow I’d dealt him. I quickly altered my heartbeat to match his, in the hope that he wouldn’t notice what I’d done. I didn’t really care for a prolonged fight. That was all talk, to make him think I was going to give it my best shot. I just wanted him dead, and to be of no danger to anyone ever again.

Gahan reacted instinctively, as I knew he would. He plunged the knife into my breast, just above my heart. “I forgive you,” I whispered, as the knife pierced my flesh, though whether I forgave him for taking my life or Drake’s I wasn’t sure.

Once the blade had passed all resistance, and reached my heart, he sliced downwards effortlessly. As he did so, I sent the gift I had prepared for him through our tether. As I died, it began to work its way through his body, cleansing every pore, every cell, every thought, of his demonic side. Death would take us both, but it would cleanse him first, so that he could die free.

What I didn’t expect was for my soul to split, when my heart was cleaved in two. As my blood stopped flowing, with no heart to pump life through my body, my broken soul fled. The two pieces floated above the empty shell that had housed my essence since birth. Though they nestled against each other for comfort, they didn’t merge into one. The pieces watched as a flicker of recognition crossed Gahan’s face, too late for him to stop what he’d set in motion. I saw our bodies fall to the ground — dead.

My soul was pulled sharply upwards at staggering speed. I could not stop it or slow it down. What was happening to me was beyond my control. The two pieces, which had remained close together, were sent in different directions. I could feel the halves reaching out, trying desperately to grasp each other. The further apart the parts of my damaged soul were, the more pain I felt, until a blinding light eclipsed everything. It’s a strange thing that light without heat can cause pain. I imagined it would be much like what a blind person would experience, if their vision was suddenly restored — a light so bright that it burned a hole through your very being.

Why, even in death, is there pain?

When the intensity of the light eased, I found that I could see myself in two very different places. One part of my soul had been sent to Danny and the other had come to rest in a vast desert. For as far as the eye could see, and I could see an incredibly long distance, there was nothing but sand, bleached white by the scorching sun. Why this part of my soul was here I didn’t know.

“Where am I?” I yelled out, my voice hollow and small, an echo of its former self. “Why am I here?”

I began to walk in what I thought was a northerly direction. It was hard to tell, as the sun was at its zenith. There had to be something other than the sand, a reason for my being here. The only way I would find out was to keep moving. I let the part of me that was roaming the desert sands reach out to the part that was with Danny. I needed to know that no harm had come to him.

Danny was pacing back and forth — ten steps in one direction, turn around, ten steps back. I’d inadvertently imprisoned him in a jail of sorts, only without a window, bars and a door — a large, stifling box, with no air circulation. I’d neglected to think of furnishing the room, and he hadn’t seen fit to do so himself. When he saw the shadow of me, ghostlike in appearance — a pale shade of my former self — he fell to his knees and wept.

“Don’t be sad for me, Danny,” I said. “Gahan is gone, and you live, as do Gina’s children.”

“You should not have sent me here,” Danny sobbed. “Together we could have accomplished what you attempted to do on your own. You did not have to pay this price.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” I said soothingly.

“It does to me.” Danny’s reply was tinged with sadness. “Your life means more to me than my own.”

“Never again would I let you die because of me.” I gently stroked his face, only to find my fingers could not touch him. What most ethereal beings coveted — to touch the warmth of the living — was also denied to me. It seemed I wasn’t that different to everyone else after all.

“I wanted to come to you. I tried to return to you … yet I could not.” Danny ran his fingers through his hair, then shook his head. “I couldn’t even summon help. For all intents and purposes, no one knows I am here, wherever here is.”

“Heaven,” I responded. “I sent you somewhere I knew you would be safe, where no one could touch you. I guess I was a bit heavy handed on the no one part.”

I thought Danny might laugh. If I were still alive, he would have. The things I did were a constant source of amusement for him. He had loved my fresh approach to everything. He said it was like looking at the world through new eyes.

“You’re free now,” I told him. “I love you, Danizriel … Danny. I will always love you.”

“You’re not meant to die. He told me you would not die, ever.”

The part of my soul that was a faraway, silent witness to the exchange — are you considered a voyeur if you’re watching yourself? — felt a commanding presence appear a short distance away. Though my attention was being pulled towards whatever had arrived in this inhospitable place, I could still hear the now muffled conversation my other half was having. In a rather odd twist of fate, I found I was jealous of myself. If all of me couldn’t be with Danny, I didn’t want any of me to be with him.

I shook my ethereal head, in the hope that I would loosen that crazy thought enough for it to drop to the ground, where I could stomp on it. I laughed. Dying hadn’t changed the warped way my mind worked. It was one thing to be grateful for.

With a deep breath I steeled myself for what I thought was about to happen. Reckoning time.