Naphal trekked through the marsh carefully, baring her dagger for any predator to see as she waded through the sand that threatened to pull her under at any moment. She’d never seen a place like this before, the air around her bitter enough to sting, the sky an abyssal violet color with no signs of life. This whole swamp gave her the creeps, a constant feeling of something lurking in the shadows making her shake. Her knees wobbled as her trek continued, the mush beneath her feet growing deeper and deeper by the second.
Then, she heard a noise. It was a rustle, a mere shake in the bushes, but that could be anything, a monster, a soldier, whatever Naphal’s brain could think of, it could be. She stood still for a moment, whipping her head around quickly, seeing nothing. The assassin exhaled weakly, her breaths short and fast, almost like panting. She continued her walk, keeping an eye over her shoulder for anything that could be possible lurking in the shadows that stood behind her, though it seemed to slow her down a bit. Her eyes were rendered useless by the darkness that surrounded her, each step like that of a soldier on a battlefield, praying that their foot doesn’t meet the trigger of a landmine.
She carried on hesitantly until she reached the end of the line of cypress trees, a clear view of the towering palace in her sight. The assassin took in a deep breath, beginning to walk with confidence as she approached Mephistopheles’ castle, the sheer size of it becoming clearer with every step. Then, finally, she reached an old bridge that hung over a brackish lake, and on the other side sat the entrance to the sky-scraping palazzo, a huge pair of double doors with a little pentagram for decor.
Naphal stepped across the bridge carefully, yet assuredly, and made it to the other side with relative ease. There, she stood in front of the massive wooden entryway, preparing to charge through it before they unexpectedly opened for her, getting a concerned glare from the assassin. The inside of the castle was dark and dingy, devoid of life, no decoration on the walls. She walked slowly through the abyssal corridor before she began to hear a rumbling coming from the distance, making the assassin stop in her tracks. She then saw a figure in the distance, a monstrous one, unlike anything she’d ever seen before. It was inhuman, and it was coming towards her.
The assassin held her dagger out, daring it to come any closer, but it kept coming, and got closer, and closer, until it was far too close for Naphal’s comfort, so much so that the creature’s stench began to fill her nose, smelling like the swamp it presumably came from. It towered over her, matted fur covering its body as it began to sniff her, standing on two legs like a demon, while looking like a freakish being from a monster movie. Naphal didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t attacking her, and her training had explicitly stated that she wasn’t to kill anyone besides her assigned target, but this thing wasn’t a demon, nor an angel, it was just an animal. That had to be okay, right?
Before she could solve the moral quandary in her mind, a booming voice echoed through the empty corridor.
“Stand down, K.”
The monster whipped its head around and quickly moved away from her, ending up at the side of another figure that stood in the darkness, this time being recognized by the assassin. “Ah, it seems we have another visitor.” The figure spoke, an obvious grin shining through the blackened air. “I’m guessing you’re here to kill me.”
Naphal was confused, “How…”
The man laughed, “That seems to be all of my visitors nowadays.” He walked into the light, “What’s your name, dear?”
“Naphal.”
“Naphal… I’ve never heard that one before. You look a lot different from the other killers Lucifer has sent over the years.”
“I do?”
“The other ones were all meatheaded soldier types, but you, why you’re no taller than your average demon, no offense.”
The assassin looked the man up and down, he wore a ratty tailcoat, his snowy hair was a mess, and his horns looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned in decades. He was disheveled through and through, making Naphal wonder why he was considered such a threat.
“None taken.” She responded.
“Good, I didn’t mean to. Say, would you like a look around? I haven’t had a visitor who was willing to listen in a while.”
“Willing to listen?”
“Oh, you know those soldier types I’m sure, they just barged in here and destroyed my things. That’s why I took all the decorations down, I didn’t know if Lucy would send another raging bull my way.”
“I can tell you with certainty that I’m not that destructive.”
Mephistopheles grinned, “I’m glad, maybe we’ll be able to get along.”
“I hope not. I do have to kill you.”
The man laughed, trailing off a bit with a sinister grin, “Right.” He turned to his monstrous companion, “K, why don’t you go fix our guest some of that famous tea you’re always on about?”
The creature nodded, walking into a different room, leaving the assassin and her victim alone.
“What is that thing?” Naphal asked.
“Oh, K? He’s my assistant, if you will. He was abandoned by his mother out in the swamp, and I took him in. We were one in the same, after all. I taught him how to walk, how to understand our language.” Mephistopheles sighed, “I don’t know what he’d do without me, poor thing, he’d probably wither up and die.”
“He seems to be doing just fine on his own.”
“I found him when he was a mere puppy, there’s no way he can survive out in that unforgiving swamp all by his lonesome.”
“I feel like you’re trying to guilt trip me.”
The demon chuckled, “I’m just telling you what I think.”
“Lucifer said you were a manipulator.”
“Oh, really now?”
“Yes.“
Mephistopheles half-scoffed, “That’s certainly rich coming from her mouth, but I guess I’ll let it slide.”
Naphal was confused by that statement, but her uncertainty was soon broken by the return of the wolf creature, who handed them both a cup of tea. The elder demon took a sip and let out a refreshed exhale, looking down at the piece of china that rested in his palm.
“K, I don’t know what you put in this, but it’s still the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He noticed the assassin staring at the drink, “Well, dear, taste it. It’s impolite to refuse an offer of tea.”
“It could be poisoned.”
The elder laughed again, “Dear, if it was poisoned, then why would I drink it?”
“Fair point.”
Naphal took a sip for herself, letting the liquid course through her throat before saying a word. It burned the sides of her mouth, but it tasted better than any tea she’d ever tried, so she didn’t really mind.
“What do you think?”
“It’s… amazing.”
The wolf monster barked excitedly, its tail whipping back and forth, garnering a smile from Mephistopheles. “See? I told you she’d agree.”
“You told him?”
“He understands me. It might not be every word, but I know he gets what I’m trying to say.” The elder demon rubbed the creature’s head, “Say, why don’t we start our tour now? I’m betting you’ve never been around a palace before.”
“Actually, I have. I live in one, with my mother.”
“Oh? Who’s your mother?”
“Like I’d tell you that. You’d probably have her killed.”
“Dear, I’ll admit that I’ve had some… anger problems in the past, but that’s all gone now. I’ve had centuries to take a look in the mirror and see my own faults, and I know now that I was a horribly flawed young man, but that’s not who I am anymore.”
Naphal sighed, “My mother is Marchosias, the wrath queen.”
“Marchosias had a child… I guess she really has changed since I last saw her.”
“She adopted me. I was abandoned by my real parents.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry. Parents can be cruel if they so choose to be.“
“I guess.”
The elder demon turned on a heel and began down a dark hallway, “Dear, what was your name? I believe I’ve forgotten to ask.”
“Naphal.“
“Naphal… What a pretty name. It’s Hebrew, it means “to fall”.”
“I didn’t know that:” She said as she began to follow the man down the corridor.
“The first bibles were written in Hebrew. My father made sure I knew the language.”
“I don’t know much about bibles. My mother says they burn your skin.”
“Crosses do brand demons, at least, the real ones do. Those dumb wooden ones humans own wouldn’t do anything.”
Naphal looked down at her feet, “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never touched a cross before.”
“I haven’t in a very long time.”
The elder demon stopped his motion in front of another pair of double doors, opening them slowly to reveal a massive bedroom on the inside, filled with aging, golden artifacts of heaven, and a painting of what she guessed to be a younger version of himself on the wall. She stared at the portrait for a moment, the man stepping up beside her soon after.
“That was my commission painting when I got my first command.” He sighed, “I remember it like it was yesterday.”
Mephistopheles grinned as he stared at the painting for what felt like an eternity, then moving around the room to show off the rest of the vast space he called his sleeping quarters. The rest of the chamber was noticeably barren, the only thing besides the decor on the walls being a large bed that sat in the middle of it all; it was made up neatly, not a crease in sight.
“Why have such a massive bedroom if you sleep alone?” Naphal pondered to herself, looking over her shoulder to see the man still staring at his own portrait, still grinning at it like a child staring at its first trophy. She wandered around a bit more, but there wasn’t really any more to see. The man’s eyes finally unlocked themselves from the wall, noticing the assassin roaming around the endless room.
“Would you like to move on?” He asked, his voice echoing in the abyssal emptiness of his quarters.
“I guess so.”
He walked out of the bedroom with gusto, leading her further down the dark corridor, passing by unmarked doors that were covered in lavish carvings, though not showing her any of what was outside. He led her to the end of the hall, opening a door that led into what seemed to be his office space, a long violet rug laid out on the floor beneath her feet. Naphal followed the man down the rug’s narrow pathway, ending at an unnaturally large desk, devoid of life outside of its dark wooden exterior. The man casually walked around it, sitting his glass of tea on a coaster and leaning back in his chair, giving the assassin an unreadable smirk.
“K!” He whistled, the beast plowing into the room and quickly to its master’s side. “Pull our guest out a chair, will ya?”
The creature did as he was asked, grabbing a similar looking wooden seat and placing it directly across from Mephistopheles, motioning Naphal to have a seat. She did so, the man staring at her as she did.
“I’m sorry it didn’t turn out to be much of a tour.” He spoke softly.
“There were plenty of rooms.”
“Most of those I don’t even use. To think, I built this whole thing with my own hands just for it to be a worthless dump.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you, Naphal, right?” She nodded, the man grinned at her again, “You know, you’re the first of my assassins that I actually got to learn the name of. The others were so brutish that they didn’t even give an introduction.”
“My profession doesn’t exactly call for cordiality.”
“That’s why I appreciate the effort, dear.”
“Now, since my tour is complete, I guess that means I must perform my job.”
Mephistopheles put up his hands, “There’s no need to be hasty, dear. I haven’t talked to anyone in three hundred years, I’d like to know what’s going on in the world.”
“Then you shouldn’t have betrayed her majesty.”
“Lucifer always tells it that way. Has it ever occurred to you that she could be lying?”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“It has, but it’s not exactly like I have a choice in the matter of listening.”
He sighed, “I guess so. She runs a tight ship, always has. That’s what I always liked about ol’ Lucy, she never stepped out of line.”
“That’s a bold statement to make about a rebel queen.”
“Oh sure, she fought god, anyone would’ve. I can tell you with certainty that every angel in that place would’ve done the exact same thing she did, they just didn’t have the power. The only people who wouldn’t stand up to him were her brothers, two imbeciles with silver spoons shoved up their asses. She did what anyone would’ve done.”
“You discredit her, yet you served her.”
“Did you not hear what I just said? Are you deaf in the ear? I just said that any angel would’ve fought god, and those of us who had the courage did so.”
“So why did you lose?”
Mephistopheles laughed, “We lost because we gave up. If we had kept fighting, poor Gabriel would’ve pissed his pants.”
“Then why did you give up?”
“You sure do ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m just trying to build on what you’re saying, that’s all.” Naphal clapped back.
“Fine then, we gave up because we had no choice.”
If you were going to win if you kept fighting, then why didn’t you have a choice?”
“We didn’t know that then. If you were to see our troops on the battlefield, you would’ve thought the exact same thing. It looked hopeless, we were disorganized, and every commander sat back in a bunker, watching their legions die. We stood no chance when we surrendered, but if we had just stuck it out, broke their resolve, we could’ve won.”
The assassin hummed, “And you would’ve killed every angel in the process.”
“Are you sure you’re not Lucifer’s child?” He asked, seemingly as a joke, “You sound just like her.”
“I’m not. I don’t know whose child I am. But what I do know is that you’re in denial.”
“I am not in denial.”
“Miss Azrael has told me stories of the war, they don’t paint a pretty picture, not of you, not even of the queen herself. They were stories of the horrors of conflict, she was out there leading your so-called legions while you and the rest of the high command sat on your asses and drank yourselves into a stupor. And for what? To tell god to suck an egg?”
Mephistopheles went silent, his face turning pale. His eyes looked like those of a corpse, his breaths were shallow, broken. “Azrael…” he whispered weakly, “She’s… still alive?”
“Yes. I see her a lot, actually.”
“Color me shocked.”
“You’re surprised?”
He laughed, barely, “I am.”
“You knew her?”
“Yes.”
“Were you her commander?”
“No, I was… well… she’d kill me if I told you, so it might be best to leave it in the past.”
Naphal turned serious, “Tell me.”
“You promise not to tell?”
“She can’t kill you if I do it first.”
The man let silence fill the air after that, before taking in a deep breath and admitting his secret, “We were lovers, passionate ones at that. She made my heart flutter without even having to try. Every bone in my body thought those bastards killed her. I didn’t see her when they walked me into the cutting room, I didn’t see her when I landed here, and I didn’t even know she made it out of the clouds alive. I thought she was slaughtered with the rest of them, what a fool I was.”
“They… slaughtered the others?”
“The surviving soldiers were rounded up. Some were put in reassimilation, most were hung. Those of us who were too high-ranking to be killed were sent to hell at God’s request. The rumors were that he just couldn’t bring himself to execute his only daughter.”
“Did you believe them?”
He pondered, “I did. They seem believable enough.”
“It sounds like utter horseshit to me.”
“To each their own.” He shrugged.
“If he was willing to go to war with her, why wouldn’t he kill her?”
Mephistopheles stopped her, “It’s best to not question God, dear. Doing that is like asking why water is wet, or why the sky is red. It’s one of those things that’s just… inevitable.”
“I don’t care, personally. God has no say over my decisions, or any in hell for that matter.”
“You’re right, but I’m just telling you, questioning god leads you down the most horrific rabbit holes.” He paused for a moment, taking the last sip of his tea with a lifeless stare, “I must ask, why did Lucy send you here?“
“To kill you.“
“Yes, I know all of that, but why? What was her reason this time?”
“This time?”
“I’ve told you that I’ve had a lot of others coke and try to perform the same job as you, to no avail. They all had different reasons as to why they were sent here.”
Naphal’s eyes went down to her feet, “I… didn’t know that.”
“Well now you do, and now you can tell me why you’re here.”
She hesitated for a moment, “I…”
“Yes?”
“I was sent here because her majesty and the high commander believe that you are building an army to overthrow her.”
Mephistopheles stared at her for just a moment, but that moment felt like an eternity. His glowing blue eyes were locked onto her like a sniper’s aim, staring directly into her soul as a painful silence filled the room, the tension so palpable that it could have been cut by a butter knife. The quietude stood until Naphal began to hear a snicker coming from the elder demon’s mouth, then that snicker grew into a chuckle, and the chuckle grew into a maniacal belly laugh.
He laughed for ages, nearly falling out of his chair in the process. The elder placed a hand on his desk and stood himself up, the laughing finally beginning to damper as he pulled himself to his feet. He looked down at Naphal, a grin still etched between his lips. The assassin’s body felt numb; she had no clue what to do. She just stared back at him, a deer in the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck named Mephistopheles. His smirk soon contorted into a blank expression, that same tension returning again, this time to a near deafening degree.
“An army?“ He asked rhetorically, quietly, “An army?”
“Yes…” Naphal answered weakly.
The laughing began again, “Tell me, Naphal, do you see an army?”
“I don’t.”
“In fact, do you see any other sign of life?”
“Other than the creature, no.”
Mephistopheles suddenly grabbed the assassin’s collar, lifting her off her chair, “SHE THINKS I HAVE AN ARMY?”
“Uh…”
“ANSWER.”
“I already told you.”
His face twisted into a scowl, “She sends me here for no reason, she sends assassins to my doorstep once a decade, and this is the thing that breaks me. How pathetic must I be?”
“Mephis-“
“Shut it! You don’t understand, you don’t understand a thing! What are you anyway? You call my assistant a monster yet you look at yourself in the mirror everyday and don’t say the same thing!”
Naphal began to reach for the daggers she kept in her pocket, “Calm down.”
“Calm down? I’ve been left behind by the world, allowed lie after lie to be told about me, and this spoon-fed little assassin girl is telling me to calm down? Don’t forget your place, dear.”
“You heard me.”
“You think I’m scared of you, how quaint. At least those others one were beasts. You’re just a pathetic little girl!”
The assassin began to feel rage boil underneath her skin, holding back everything to stab him right then and there. “Calm. Down.”
“JUST KILL ME ALREADY! GET IT OVER WITH!”
She quickly drove her dagger forward, connecting with the man’s stomach but earning herself knee to the chin for her troubles. She had no time to catch herself, the elder demon slamming her skull into the desk and watching as she crumbled to the ground, her mouth and nose spewing blood. Naphal could barely feel her own body, her head hurt like hell, and thick crimson covered her eyes. The man stood over her, grinning, “You’re a durable little shit.” He spewed.
“You were cordial when I entered.”
“You seemed different. Now I know that you’re just like the rest of them.”
“Because I don’t think you’re the victim?“
“You believe every lie she spews. If there’s anyone with an army, it would be one of those whores on the infernal court. They’d do anything to get ahead.”
Naphal made her way back to her feet, “My mother is one of those whores.”
“She’s no better than the rest of them.”
“You’re the traitor here.”
“Another lie.”
“Then tell me what happened between you and Lucifer.”
Mephistopheles waved the question off, “It doesn’t matter.”
“If you’re worked up to the point of murder, I’d say it does matter.”
“Fine.” He huffed, “Me and her had a little disagreement, she got paranoid like all young leaders, and so she sent me here. End of story.”
“I feel like there’s more to that.”
“Quit prying, dear, it’ll only cause me more pain.”
“I don’t care about your pain.”
“That’s cruel.”
Naphal gave him a death glare, “You tried to kill me. I don’t exactly have much in the way of sympathy for you.”
“Then finish me off.”
“What?”
“You defeat me, and I’ll let you do your job. If I defeat you, then little ol’ Lucy will get a body bag as a thank you gift.”
The assassin was confused by another sudden shift, “I…”
“C’mon, girl. Fight me!”
He flung his arms outwards, opening his body up for attack, but Naphal couldn’t bring herself to take a swing. “I don’t want to.”
“What kind of assassin are you?”
She finally stepped forward, unsheathing her daggers and readying herself for a duel. The man smiled as she approached him, “There we go…” he whispered.
Mephistopheles let her have the first strike, dodging it with a swift turn of his heel. He responded by sweeping the assassin off of her feet, sending her daggers to the other side of the room and the girl scrambling to stand back up. She looked over at where her weapons had fallen, but she couldn’t stare at them long, the sight of the elder demon entering the corner of her eye. She blocked his attempt at a punch and answered with one of her one, colliding with the man’s stomach with enough force to feel it in her knuckles.
He recoiled, giving her a chance to recover slightly, but it wouldn’t last very long, soon feeling the crack of a fist land harshly on her jaw, knocking her back. She wiped the blood from her mouth and jumped at the elder demon again, grabbing ahold of his shirt collar and shoulder-checking him into the ribs like a hockey player after a loose puck. That gave her enough time to grab her daggers off the floor, but she didn’t have any time to anything with them, the man quickly flying towards her and nailing a harsh shot to her breast.
She groaned at the strike, staring at the grinning man who watched her suffer with glee.
“I’m surprised you’re still upright.”
“I thought you said I was durable.”
Mephistopheles laughed, “I guess we’ll have to see how long it takes to break you.”
He quickly made another move towards her, aiming at her head with his foot, but she ducked under it, striking the elder demon in the ribs with a well-placed punch. Naphal noticed him fall on his back foot, clobbering his stomach with a pair of blows before finishing with a knee to the mush, Mephistopheles feeling a burning sensation come up through his throat as he collapsed to the floor. He chuckled while regaining his bearings, blood beginning to leak from his orifices, “Is that all you’ve got?”
The assassin huffed, throwing another shot that was blocked by the more experienced demon, earning herself an elbow to the chin for good measure. She drew back, dodging an attempt from the man to knock her off her feet, regaining her bearings next to his desk. Naphal gripped her daggers as tight as she could, knowing she could end this fight if she could just get a good opening.
Mephistopheles approached her slowly, keeping that sickening grin between his lips. He showed no signs of attack, though that didn’t mean it wasn’t coming.
“How’s it feel, girl? Do you hear death calling yet?”
“Shut the hell up.”
The man chuckled, “Feisty little thing, I’m surprised you haven’t caved. You look so puny standing there.”
“What happened to that kind man who allowed me in?”
“I told you already; did you not believe me? You’re just another one of her mindless drones, not bothering to listen. I thought you were different, I really did, but like always, I was proven so horribly wrong.”
“I’m not like them.”
“You’re not some muscled freak, but you’re most certainly like them.” He began to inch ever closer, to a near uncomfortable degree, “I think it’s about time I let you go. Frankly, I’m tired of seeing your freakish face.”
“Why the sudden change?” She asked weakly.
“Life is full of sudden changes. One day, you’re the kind of the world, the next, the world wants to read you down.”
“You’re everything they said you were.”
“I’m glad I lived up to your expectations.”
The man cocked his fist back, time slowing to a crawl as she stood there and watched it approach, feeling a movement in her hand. Naphal’s body went numb, the world moving in slow-motion until- CRUNCH! SHUNK!
Her eyes locked with his for just a split-second, seeing the life drain from them as he slowly crumbled to the floor below, letting her nose extend out like an accordion from where he had struck it, a thick strand of blood hanging onto his fist. She looked down to see one of her daggers lodged in his side, directly under his ribcage, his loose clothing colored crimson.
She removed the knife quickly, making the gore spew faster, the color from his face draining while she watched in stoic horror. He coughed harshly, now lying on the cold floor he called home, his assistant running from the corner he had hidden in, trying his best to help his wounded master but it was far too late. The elder demon’s last moment was giving Naphal a faint smile, his body too weak to say a word. All she could do was stand there, not able to muster speech, or movement. The creature cried, holding his owner in his arms and trying its best to resuscitate him, to no avail.
The assassin stood still, her ankles locked with a padlock and the key thrown down the drain. She couldn’t bring herself to move. She had done this so many times before, but this time, it just felt… different. It must’ve been watching the monster mourn, she had never had to do that before. She was usually gone by the time her victim’s friends or family had found them.
Finally, her feet made a motion forward, her hand reaching out to pat the creature on the head.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered.
The beast looked up at her, a look of desolation in its eyes. A part of her thought it was going to attack, but it just sat there, watching. She couldn’t bear the sight anymore, the wounds from her battle beginning to sting as she stood there. What was she doing? Her job was finished, she had to go. But then, she remembered Lucifer’s only wish: his horns. The thought of doing it made her cringe, though, she didn’t exactly have a choice. She shooed the monster away from the body, trying to get it to go in a different room which it steadfastly refused.
She got down on one knee and began to cut, filing down the horns’ rough exterior until all that remained was a stub. Naphal placed the jagged antler on the ground and repeated the process on the other side, much to the creature’s horror. When she was done, she stood back on her feet, gave one last look at the monster who had once greeted her, and said another apology before leaving the palace once and for all.
Naphal began to feel boiling tears stream down her face as the pain from her duel took hold, and the shock of what she’d done set in. She looked down at the horns in her hands and thought of the man who was so cordial when she walked in, just to change on a whim, like the demon she first saw was an entirely different person. Her thoughts ruminated as she walked through the vast hallways of the now uninhabited palace, the girl opening the massive double doors at the end to reveal the brackish air of the swamp that surrounded it.
She looked out into the darkness that awaited her, her face and body aching from her fight. She didn’t know what to do next, but there was something she did know;
She didn’t want to go home, not yet.