The riverbed was dry. Nothing but hard, cracked ground snaking away for countless miles in either direction. Black smoke jetted out of fissures that should have been submerged, and the arid panorama on the other side of the trench seemed to shimmer and dance in the heat. Really, Kyle shouldn’t have been so surprised to find this place so miserable and barren. He was, after all, in Hell.
But he had felt so sure that Styx would be here. He and Ryka often met the ancient water demon in this very spot. They had come by early on to say their “thanks” for his part in their separation and Kyle’s reincarnation, and several times since just to chat. Though Kyle wondered if his presence alone wasn’t enough to summon Styx back from wherever he was. Defeated, Kyle plopped down on the bank, letting his feet dangle over the edge.
He barely managed to get them out of the way in time. The mad rushing of a river wasn’t heard until the flood was almost upon him, whitewater cresting the banks. Even through the misty-gray water, swirling and eddying as Styx settled himself, he could see the cracked ground smoothing out. And when the superheated jets tickled Styx’s belly, it sounded to Kyle like the ground was sighing in relief.
“Kyle,” Styx rumbled by way of greeting, his words reverberating all throughout Kyle’s body.
The first time Kyle had seen the water demon had been in a hotel bathtub. In such a cramped setting, he’d been forced to limit size. In Hell, he needed impose no such restrictions on his form. His massive head towered easily ten stories overhead, and one of his feet would have been more than enough to entirely submerge the small house Kyle had once lived in. The demon’s size and strength had been daunting at first, but Kyle had quickly come to learn that Styx was uncommonly well-tempered for a creature that had chosen to make Hell its home.
“Hi, Styx.”
“No Ryka?”
“He’s sleeping,” Kyle told him. “He didn’t want to get up and do anything, so I just left him.”
“And you were fine on your own?”
Looking away, Kyle nodded. Most of his new kin disliked him, and had no problem demonstrating how they felt. Though usually, they were the ones who ended up suffering, as soon as Ryka figured out what was happening. They were more than strong enough to easily overpower Kyle, but still no match for Ryka, especially when he was feeling overprotective.
“Give it time. You’re still coming into your power. And Ryka was gone at a vital time in his development. He needs to claim his new place in the hierarchy here.”
“I understand.” Demons, he had quickly discovered, put a lot of worth in rank. Rank which was based on age and power, as well as favor with Lord Satan. Kyle had neither age nor power to benefit him, but having been spared eternal suffering, he had what appeared to be a good deal of favor with Lucifer. And this fact wasn’t making him many friends. Hara, Val and the imps didn’t care, at least, and for that he was immensely grateful.
Styx was too old to be concerned with such trivial things. Of course, being immensely powerful and nearly as old as the Devil himself meant that Styx had probably never had to worry about his place in Hell.
“What’s troubling you?” Styx asked, breaking Kyle’s train of thought.
“I still can’t make fire.” Such a basic thing, and still he struggled.
“Hmm.” To Kyle, it sounded like Styx knew something but didn’t want to, or couldn’t, tell him. And he knew there was no use in prying. If Styx couldn’t say, it was likely Lucifer had sworn him to silence. And powerful as he was, he was still no match for the Devil. “It will take time. And we have no shortage of that.”
Kyle looked up in time to see Styx smile. Daggers of ice glistened in a mouth that could have swallowed a car whole. “I just feel like I’m not making any progress. Is there something I’m missing?”
That cavernous maw opened, and quickly shut, Styx cocking his head as if listening to something far away. “Apologies; I’m being called. I’ll return shortly.”
“I’ll be here,” Kyle told him. With a tremendous splash, Styx dropped his head and neck back into the riverbed. For a long time, Kyle sat and watched as small waves lapped at the shoreline – Styx’s slow breathing. So entranced was he that he never heard the other demons arrive.
“If it isn’t Lucifer’s useless new toy,” a familiar voice jeered, snapping Kyle from his reverie. He shuddered to recognize that speaker: Sirux. So this was going to be revenge.
As promised, Ryka had helped Val beat some sense into he and Kyle’s disrespectful coworker. But one bad turn deserved another, and when Kyle finally worked up the nerve to face Sirux, it was to find he had arrived with three friends. All of whom looked more than eager to participate in what Kyle didn’t doubt would be a severe mauling.
“I’m leaving.” He tensed his wings, ready to take off, but wasn’t fast enough. Two grabbed each wing and threw him back to the ground, pinioning him. Sirux leaned in close, giving Kyle a close-up view of Ryka’s handiwork. Even with demons’ incredible ability to heal, Sirux still looked like shit. Jagged scars criss-crossed the left side of his face, continuing down his neck to his shoulder, then out across his wing. Kyle imagined he’d be wearing a matching set soon enough. “Come on,” he tried. “It had nothing to do with me.”
“We both know that’s not true,” Sirux snarled. “You and that fucker Val bitched, so he came after me. You need to learn your fucking place. You and Judas both think you’re better than the rest of us.”
“I really don’t,” Kyle assured him. Though he suspected Sirux cared little for his feelings of inadequacy. Something confirmed when Sirux backhanded him, snapping Kyle’s head to one side. He followed this by stomping down hard on Kyle’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. And all Kyle could think of was the time a student’s enraged father had shown up at his house and done almost the same thing. He wanted to yell for Ryka, but his pride wouldn’t let him.
“No one’s going to come for you,” one of the others taunted, knowing full well what his intention had been. They stretched out his wings until he was sure the membranes would tear, with one taking up position on each. A third grabbed him by the horns and held his head down, forcing him to look up at a sneering Sirux.
“I’m going to ruin you; make you unfuckable. Then leave you praying for Oblivion.”
They couldn’t kill him, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try. His squirming was futile; they simply pushed him harder into the dirt. “Keep an eye out for Ryka.” This was directed at the demon controlling Kyle’s head. But they had failed spectacularly at their task.
There was a soft thud and the rustle of wings, followed by a familiar, furious roar. Kyle managed to lift his head enough to see Ryka storming toward the gang. And Kyle’s attackers knew in an instant they were outmatched. Three of the four managed to get out of his way in time, but Sirux stumbled over Kyle and right into Ryka.
When they had been sharing a body, Ryka often hadn’t needed anything more than threats to protect Kyle. And Kyle almost longed for those days. Because now, Ryka didn’t say a word. Just tore into their enemies with obvious delight, grinning all the while. And it turned out that at their last encounter, Ryka had held himself back.
Kyle watched as his partner effortlessly pinned down Sirux and proceeded to shred his wings, nearly tearing one off in the process. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he raged, grabbing Sirux’s head and slamming it into the ground. Sirux flailed under him, desperately trying to escape. Still wearing the same twisted smile, Ryka stood and let him go. He was tensed to strike again, fingers flexing, blood dripping from his claws.
“Mercy, mercy,” Sirux pleaded, as if he’d been intending to show Kyle any. Whimpering, the other demon dragged himself back toward his friends, who stood cowering near the river’s edge. Although they hadn’t been devoted enough to try to save him, they still loyally helped their friend escape, all three supporting him as they took off back toward the cliffs.
Before they were even out of sight, Ryka was at Kyle’s side. “What the fuck were you thinking?” he asked, trying to sound angry and failing. Sorrow dimmed the fire in his eyes, and Kyle glanced away, ashamed.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m sorry that he came after you.” Sirux was probably sorrier still. If his wings grew back to any degree, they would still be damn near useless. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Kyle’s chin gently in his hand, he turned his head this way and that before inspecting the rest of him for injuries and brushing dirt off his wings.
“Thank you.”
His anger now completely forgotten, Ryka kissed Kyle once on the forehead, protectively wrapping them in his arms. “Were you waiting for Styx?”
“Yeah. Well, he was just here, but got called away. He said he’d be back.”
“I’ll wait with you.”
“Thanks.” Exhaling slowly, Kyle relaxed. He let his wings go limp as he reclined on his side, pulling Ryka down with him. Which was he when he finally realized he should be asking “How’d you find me, anyway?”
“Just a gut feeling, I guess.” This, Kyle knew, meant that his unspoken cries for help had been ringing in Ryka’s head, acting as a beacon. Their souls had been too close for too long; they each carried just enough of the other to preserve some of the bond they’d shared as host and parasite. It was coming in very handy.
“Sometimes it’s too much, and sometimes it’s not enough.” His head still felt lonely sometimes, and it had been hard to notice what had remained, they were both so used to something so much deeper.
“Mm.” His eyes were closed now, but Ryka was still smiling in Kyle’s direction.
“I forgot you were sleeping. Want to take a nap?”
“Please.”
***
Kyle couldn’t be sure how long they were out, but it was apparently more than long enough for Sirux’s little gang to regroup. And find backup. It wasn’t until it was far too late to escape that he and Ryka awoke to find themselves surrounded.
The same group that had just been chased off - including Sirux, still propped up between two of his comrades - pulled him from Ryka’s side as quickly as they could. They resumed their earlier positions: two keeping his wings and limbs securely against the ground, their fourth holding his legs down, and Sirux now keeping his head in place. Lifted this time, so he could see who they had brought along to deal with Ryka.
Unblinking, he stared at the demon that had accompanied them. Ryka was staring, too, and Kyle’s normally hot blood went cold when he saw a momentary flash of fear in Ryka’s eyes.
The monster that paced a tight circle around Ryka was unlike anything Kyle had yet seen in Hell. At twice Ryka’s height, it was still tiny when compared to Styx, but it wasn’t the demon’s size that horrified Kyle - it was its appearance. It looked like something that might have wandered off Dr. Moureau’s island or populated a Lovecraft story. A scorpion’s stinger bobbed over its back, dripping yellow venom, and it stalked its new prey on feet like a cat’s, complete with foot-long claws. The barbed spines that covered the rest of the demon’s body rippled as it walked, rustling quietly. Worst of all, Kyle thought, was the head. Malice gleamed in four sets of green eyes, set atop a gaping mouth filled with a double row of serrated fangs.
Abruptly, the monster froze, and Ryka took the opportunity to get on his feet. Never one to back down from a fight, he flared open his wings and roared. His challenger studied him for a moment, then surged forward.
Before Ryka even made it within arm’s reach of his enemy, the creature jabbed its stinger through his chest, piercing bone with a sickening crunch. The force knocked Ryka onto his back, and the stinger was long enough to keep him secured there, embedded not only in Ryka, but the rocky ground under him. Like a fragile specimen pinned for a cruel study, Kyle thought.
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With its prey now helpless, the creature went to work delivering instant retribution. First were Ryka’s wings, just to ensure that escape was impossible. Two well-aimed slashes with those long claws left Ryka flightless.
Furious, he snarled at his attacker, but was silenced by a second sting through his windpipe. This time, at least, the barb was withdrawn immediately. His roar now a wheeze, Ryka struggled to his feet, blood spraying as he shook shredded membrane free of the stumps where his wings had been. As if amused, the creature swatted at him again, leaving deep gashes along Ryka’s chest and stomach, washing him in scarlet. Panting, Ryka staggered forward, somehow still determined to get a hit in, and the creature batted him to the ground, digging in its claws. From where he was being held, Kyle could hear bones crack as the beast pushed Ryka face first into the dirt. It then flipped Ryka onto his back, taking a few more jabs with his stinger., the last aimed at his face. Something stuck on the barb following the last one, but Kyle couldn’t tell what. He didn’t think he really wanted to know.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl, though Kyle knew the fight – no, he corrected himself, the assault - was over in mere moments. Mouth hanging open, Kyle watched helplessly as Ryka was mutilated. “No, no, no,” he murmured, struggling against his captors. But he quickly lost the will to fight back. From the site of his own lopsided battle, he could see blood pooling around Ryka.
“It’s not over yet. Just watch,” Sirux leered, leaning over him. But Kyle squeezed his eyes closed. If it was going to get worse, he didn’t want to see it. “I told you to watch,” he snapped. Through his eyelids, he could see the silhouettes of hands, reaching for him.
It was the angry buzz of electricity that made him open them again. Just in time for him to see red-orange lightning streak across the ground to either side of himself and his attackers. When it didn’t immediately deter them, a third got Sirux right in the chest, knocking him off his feet.
At any rate, it had the desired effect. His captors scattered, and even the monster drooling over Ryka looked up from its prize. Kyle and Ryka no longer occupied the number one spot on their shit list. He lifted his head and looked in the direction the bolts had originated from. Less than twenty feet away, a cloud of dust shooting sparks off in all directions was slowly but steadily advancing on them. It looked like an early electrical experiment gone horribly wrong, and Kyle wondered if they were any better off.
But as the storm approached, the dust started to settle, and Kyle could make out a tall, lanky and somehow familiar silhouette. It was the voice that gave the newcomer away, though. “Y’all continue to disrupt my nap, and I’ll char you so bad even Lord Satan won’t be able to fix you.”
At first, their attackers just stood there, staring stupidly at the Reaper. He stopped only a few strides away from the monster, crossed his long arms over his chest and cocked his head to one side. “Do y’all not understand? I said get the fuck outta here before I mess you up beyond all recognition. Though that might be doin’ you a favor.” This last comment was directed at the beast that had been tearing into Ryka. As soon as Pike’s gaze landed on it, it flinched. Spines rattling, it crept backwards, too frightened to take its eyes off the Reaper. “That’s right, go on now. ‘Cause I sure do miss barbeque, and you come complete with toothpicks.” The other demon didn’t entirely understand Pike’s threat, but it certainly got the gist of it.
The sparks started flying again, lightning crawling over Pike’s skin, and the four other demons – the monster included - beat a hasty retreat. Kyle pushed himself to sitting, and considered kowtowing with his forehead in the dirt. All he managed was a stunned, “Pike.”
“Come on, get up.”
Kyle took the hand the Pike offered, and struggled to his feet. He stayed on them just long enough to stagger over to Ryka. “Ry?”
But there was no response, save Ryka’s shallow breathing. Whimpering, Kyle sank down next to him. Ryka had obtained a few small scars defending him before, but seeing the damage that monster had inflicted, Kyle found himself wondering if there was a point where regeneration just wasn’t possible.
There was nothing left of Ryka’s wings but raw, bloody stumps. One had been sheared clean off, the other had been nearly so, only those few shreds of membrane Ryka had shaken free earlier. They were partly under him, awash in his blood. His horns were both cracked all the way down to his skull, and broken bone protruded through severely lacerated skin in more places than Kyle cared to count. Worst of all, though, was the empty socket where Ryka’s right eye had only recently been. If there’d been a lid still to close, Kyle would have closed it.
His own eyes stung, tears burning off as fast as they fell. All he could do was howl, long and low. “He’ll recover,” Pike assured him, resting a hand on his shoulder. That only made Kyle feel worse. Because even when the wounds closed, Ryka would still be broken. He would never be the same again, and it was all Kyle’s fault. What would they do then? Sobs wracked his body as he hunched over Ryka, still breathing slow and shallow. “I’m sorry, dear. So, so sorry. Ryka ….”
Over his own pitiful wailing, he barely registered the rush of water signaling Styx’s return. Only when the water demon’s deep voice shook him all the way to his bones did he finally look up. “What happened?” he inquired, head lowered so that Kyle was staring down his throat.
But Kyle couldn’t answer, too devastated to do more than blubber, so Pike explained as best he could.
“I see,” Styx mumbled, after hearing the Reaper’s story. “It’s good to see you again, Pike, my friend. I wish it could be under better circumstances. Still, I think the situation can be remedied. In fact, I believe that if I don’t try, His Unholiness will be quite upset with me.” Pike’s eyes went wide. Demons of Styx’s rank were strongly encouraged not to meddle in the petty squabbles of their inferiors. Taking sides when you could rally an army was frowned upon.
Distraught as he was, Kyle barely heard any of what was being said. Under him, Ryka moaned. “Come on, dear, wake up,” he pleaded, pressing his forehead to Ryka’s and willing him awake, screaming his partner’s name in his head. There had to be some way he could reach him.
“Let me help,” Styx boomed. As Pike backed away, Styx looped a length of his body out over the riverbank. Kyle stared wide-eyed as a wall of water swept toward he and Ryka. “You can’t drown. Just stay with him.”
As they were submerged, he understood why the ground was always so eager for Styx’s touch. In a matter of moments, he was chilled to core. He’d forgotten the feeling. Shivering, he closed his eyes and pulled Ryka closer.
He thought he’d only closed his eyes for a moment, but when opened them again, he was completely dry and far from feeling cold. Pike and Styx were looking down at him, both smiling. “Pays to have friends in high places, huh?” Pike said.
“What?”
Pike inclined his head to the right, and Kyle managed to glance in that direction. Kyle sat up fast enough to make his head swim. Next to him, Ryka was sleeping soundly, wings folded haphazardly across his back. As if they might disappear suddenly, Kyle carefully traced a fingertip along one of the large veins that supplied the membrane. Gray scars covered the entire surface of both wings, but they were there. Even better, Kyle could clearly discern eyes moving beneath both closed lids, even though a vibrant red scar ran across his right eye, from just under the brow to just below the bottom lid.
“How?” Kyle managed, continuing to inspect his partner. More scars were visible where he had been stung or clawed, but he was unhurt. And his horns had even been mended, whole again like the rest of him.
“It’s not much different from when I returned you to separate bodies,” Styx explained. “Lord Satan prefers that you all work through these things on your own, but sometimes intervention is necessary. Though, even if I am allowed to help, you still have to wear your scars. Most of you eventually learn, some more slowly than others.” This he said with a nod toward Pike, who studied his feet in embarrassment. For the first time, Kyle noticed the puckered lines criss-crossing his chest and stomach. He’d had his fair share of fights, then, too.
“Thank you so much,” Kyle told Styx, head bowed. “I don’t know how to repay you.” Hell ran on favors, and Kyle anticipated he’d be paying this debt down for the rest of time.
“No repayment needed.” Styx smiled, not seeming to notice Kyle’s jaw falling open, then turned his head back toward the black mountains he had just returned from. “I must be off again. Pike, shall we talk soon?”
“Just shout when you’re back.”
Styx nodded before splashing back into the riverbed. Drought marked his retreat, and it was only moments before the ground began to crack and steam once more. Kyle was still clinging to Ryka, and tried to shake him awake, but Ryka just groaned and curled up, shading himself with one of his wings.
“Let him sleep,” Pike suggested.
Realizing there wasn’t much else he could do at the moment, Kyle stood. “Thank you. If you hadn’t come-”
“He’d still be fine. Might’ve ended up even uglier than that other motherfucker, but he woulda been fine.”
“Still. It’s terrifying that we can do that to each other. Get that hurt and stay that way, or at least always have evidence we were.” He made a special effort not to look at Pike’s scars, but that just drove his gaze to Ryka’s.
“That’s true. But at least there’s no pain.”
At this, Kyle looked at the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. “But I remember it. Does he?”
Pike looked thoughtfully into the distance, picking his next words. “Remembering’s still not the same as actually feelin’ it. Right? The only thing that’s really gonna be achin’ is his pride.”
He was going to be crushed. “How much of this do you think he’ll actually remember?”
“He’ll definitely remember gettin’ his ass whooped. After that ….” Pike just shrugged. “And since that’s the case, I should probably make myself scarce. You explain things to him.”
“But-”
“He’d rather hear it from you. Trust me.” The Reaper turned to go, but stopped after only a couple steps. Looking back over his shoulder, he said “Don’t be scarce, now you know where to find me.”
Kyle could only nod. As soon as Pike was out of sight, he returned his attention to Ryka, who was finally starting to stir awake. “Ry?” Unintelligible mumbling greeted his words, but when Ryka opened his eyes and looked up at him, he seemed coherent enough. Is this how Ryka had felt when they’d first come home? “Ry!” Any vestiges of self-control he had left crumbled and he threw himself at Ryka, who luckily was still flat out on the ground. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”
“Tired.” With an overdramatic groan, he leaned against Kyle. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
There was a pause, and Ryka sighed. He remembered, more than he wanted to. “I got my ass handed to me, didn’t I?”
“That’s an understatement.”
“You’re such a dick.” Kyle was crushing Ryka’s face into his neck, but could hear the smirk in his voice.
“You really feel okay?”
“Mm. They didn’t get you, did they?” As he had before, Ryka inspected Kyle. The best he could from recumbency, anyhow. Kyle shook his head. “I’m sorry they-”
“You’re sorry? If it wasn’t for me being so fucking useless-”
“Stop,” Ryka gently ordered. “You’re not. And this sort of shit happens all the time here. When we’re not fucking, we’re fighting.” When it looked like Kyle wanted to continue wallowing, Ryka continued, “So, how do I look?” He pulled away to examine himself, grimacing when he saw the scars overlaying the veins on his wings. The ones he couldn’t see, he could still feel, and Kyle watched with growing guilt as Ryka took stock of his newly healed wounds.
“If you really want to know, I’m sure we can find a mirror somewhere. Maybe we even have one.” Really, he was sure they did. If it wasn’t Jinx taking souvenirs back from the mortal world, it was the shadow, who was as fascinated with human objects as ever. They had quite the pile of useless junk, and it kept getting bigger. But Kyle wasn’t sure he could handle Ryka’s reaction to seeing his reflection.
“It’s fine. As long as you still want me.” Kyle was surprised how unconcerned Ryka was about the fight he’d just lost. But he supposed the power hierarchy was something so ingrained that Ryka didn’t even know any other way to react.
“Nothing could be so bad that I wouldn’t. You think I’m that shallow?”
“No, I just like picking on you.”
“It’s just your personality that’s a turn off,” Kyle returned, curling up to face him all the same.
With a haughty smirk, Ryka huffed out a laugh. “You still can’t lie to me. You like being bullied.”
“You think too highly of yourself.”
Not in any way a contradiction, but Ryka let it slide. “It really is cute when you try to act tough.” He was aiming for a kiss, and Kyle was fully invested in meeting him halfway.
And then their moment was ruined by a rollicking, slobbering pack of Hell Hound imps. Kyle still couldn’t help but think of them as puppies. Their coats were softer and fluffier than full grown Hell Hounds, and their feet and floppy ears looked far too big for their small bodies. Oblivious to the two older demons, they raced by, nipping at each other’s heels.
Trailing them at a quick trot was a full-sized Hound. It dipped its head at Kyle and Ryka as it passed, and Kyle thought he’d never seen a creature look so put-upon. Another babysitter, Kyle correctly guessed. He figured he looked equally as worn down most of the time, too.
“Hell’s not just for the damned, huh?” Ryka commented, watching the pack disappear in a cloud of dust and fur.
“I’m a special case. But we did leave the little beasts with Val.” Commiserating over their work had made them fast friends, and Kyle knew he needed as many of those as he could get.
“He’ll be fine a little longer. I wanted to sleep.”
“Oh, did you?” Before they had been interrupted, Kyle thought it had been quite apparent that sleep was the furthest thing from Ryka’s mind.
“With you, yes.”
“Should we head back, then?”
“Not yet.”
“But what if-?” He didn’t want to speak it into being, Sirux and his friends coming back. With even more reinforcements.
“I won’t let them touch you.” Something dangerous flashed in Ryka’s eyes, and Kyle had to stop himself from flinching away. It wasn’t just anger roiling off him that was oppressive. It was the feeling of absolute assurance - and the power to back it up - that if they dared showed their faces again, they would spend eternity regretting it.
Had Styx done something to Ryka? Kyle wondered.
“Did I just kill the mood?” If he’d looked upset at discovering his scars earlier, it was nothing compared to his disappointment now, and his exaggerated frustration made Kyle forget all his worries.
“Not at all,” he purred, levering himself up before straddling Ryka, who started rumbling happily under him. From this new vantage point, he could fully take in the evidence of Ryka’s sacrifice. Scars, yes, but earned without hesitation on his behalf. His protector looked now like some battle-hardened war god. One with an unmistakable hunger burning in his eyes. “Not at all.”