Baal walked slowly through the empty hospital corridors, the bleached lights flickering as he passed below them.

He moved past the elevator, as it made a quiet ringing sound and the doors slid open. Two doctors and one nurse walked out. He overheard them talking about a patient and his successful kidney transplant, but paid no mind to it. Baal stopped in front of a window, inside being the maternity ward. He turned his bulbous head covered in short unkempt blonde hair and began counting the beds under his breath. When he was finished, he bit the inside of his cheek and continued on his way. A few moments later however, his phone started ringing loudly. He answered it with a polite:

“Hello?”

“Baal?” A smooth voice answered back.

“Yes?” He said, leaning on a short guardrail on a wall next to the pharmacy.

“You at the hospital?”

“Yeah, I’m almost at his room. Did you make the arrangements?”

“Forty men, like you asked. Armed and ready on my call.”

“Good, make sure they’re quick when the time calls, we’ll need them.” He smiled, revealing his sparkling teeth.

“We meet at seven, over at the Carlston restaurant right?”

“Of course, I must go now. Goodbye.” Baal grinned, and once again made his way forward.

He pulled out a small card with the number four hundred and forty-four written on it. He then scoured the small bronze plaques above the glass doors.

Forty-one, forty-two, three… there we are. He thought to himself, scratching his left shoulder while opening the door and walking inside. He stopped mid-step when he saw the man resting on the armchair next to the bed. He was reading a little black agenda. The man was wearing a faded blue suit with a black button-up shirt underneath. Very tall and thin, his head was bald and face ancient and decrepit. His wrinkle-ridden skin was nothing more than a thin pale veil over his bones and muscles.

“Baal, it has been a while.” He spoke, his voice icy deep and quiet. His words alone made Baal tremble.

“Bapho-” The man before him slowly turned towards him, his gray eyes making him gulp in fear.

“L-Lord Baphomet.” Baal coughed. “I had not expected to see you here.”

“Neither have I, but I had received a message of… great distress from your friend Belial.” He looked disinterestedly at the man lying on the bed, a breathing mask carefully placed on his face.

“Azazel was, attacke-” He began.

“Yes I was told of what happened. Children? Of all the possible things that could pose an obstacle in your capture of one bloody angel. Pah!” He spat as he rose from his seat. Baphomet towered over Baal by a full head.

“Azazel, he-”

“Tell me Baal, why is it that you are so anxious to tell me what Azazel has or has not been doing these past months?” The demon said as he leaned over the rails of the bed.

“I-I...”

“You... you… you what? Stop blabbering like a fool and speak!” His final word echoed briefly and caused the air to turn cold, the lights and computer screens flickering violently under his force.

“I am not the one in charge. Remember?”

“I remember all too clearly. Now tell me what happened.”

“We... failed.” He said, taking a step back, bumping into the now closed door.

“You may continue.” Baphomet commanded.

“We were not able to capture the angel. Mephistopheles left us. We lost dozens of men and wendigos and other creatures during the auction at the hands of The Huntress and her friends. And now we have no leads to go on, the angel is nowhere to be found.”

“Was telling the truth that difficult?”

“Not necessarily… mainly depends.”

“On what?”

“On what you’re gonna do next.”

Baphomet grinned and chuckled.

“You always were a clown, taking after Azazel. Azazel at least was smart and had charm... why I made him in charge here…” Baphomet then walked past him stopping upon opening the door. He turned back one more time, his sharp eyes looking first at the man in the bed, then Baal, then back to the bed. “But alas, he seems to be of no more use to me. You have already made your plans have you not?”

“Yes, my Lord.” Came Baal’s fast reply.

“Very well, I trust you to know what to do now. Oh and Baal, keep in mind: I am your Lord, disobey my will, and this same fate awaits.”

Baal could only lean his head down in acceptance as his master left the room, and the hospital afterwards. He sat down in Baphomet’s chair and took a deep breath. He looked out the window and saw the shining black limousine leave. He could almost feel Baphomet’s dead eyes staring at him from down there, but he angrily cast away the thought, turning to the man on the bed.

“Are you awake?”

No response. Nothing except the beeping on the computer monitor.

“Didn’t expect you to be.” He pulled out a key from his pocket and began fidgeting with it as he spoke. “You know boss, we’ve known each other for ages. You pulled the strings to get me out of hell along with you. You’ve taught me how to not only survive up here but how to live the lives we could no longer have. We’re friends and I thank you for that.” He smirked and placed a hand on the bed.

“But I’m afraid the need for change has come. You taught me a very important lesson, you and Baphomet both did. The little fish can one day become the massive behemoth of the sea. He eats the smaller fish until he grows bigger and bigger, until he becomes just as big as the largest fish in the sea. And by eating that one, he becomes the one at the top of the food chain.” He walked up to take a better look at his face, brushing aside a strand of coppery hair. “I’m afraid you’re no longer the largest fish here…”

Baal opened the cabinet by the man’s bed and pulled out a large suitcase.

“Glad it’s here.” He remarked, taking his device, and opening the suitcase with it. “It’s truly a shame…” Baal continued. “ All those little fishes in the other rooms, never getting the chance to become big… It truly breaks my heart, but that’s the price one must pay I guess.” His hands carefully worked away at the device inside the suitcase.

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“Baal…” The man finally spoke, voice weary, barely hanging on to life. He lifted his arm slowly, pointing at him. Baal looked at him, and a pair of brown eyes stared back. “You… will burn. You treacherous bastard.”

“My apologies Azazel. Don’t think ill of me.” With those final words, Baal closed the suitcase and walked out of the room.

Back through the empty hallways and out the hospital doors he made his way. Baal wiped some fuzz off of his coat and opened the door of his dull white car. He turned on the radio after starting the engine and drove off, humming to the relaxing song that was playing as the building behind him exploded through the night, its entire upper half drowning in flames.

----------------------------------------

“That’s your plan?” Evan asked, concerned.

“Yeah.” Mephisto answered bluntly.

“Why do I feel like it won’t work?” Evan continued.

“Cause it probably won't.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Just, wait here, let me do the talking. If things go sour, well I sure hope you can use that spear well enough.”

“Good luck, old man.” Evan told him. Mephisto glared back at him and opened the library doors.

It was cold inside, and dark, but the lights shone brightly through the tall windows. It illuminated the rows upon rows of dusty books that stretched into the building. Mephisto’s footsteps echoed loudly on the parquet floor. When he made his way out of the narrow hallway and into the main room, he saw a woman sitting on the ground, resting against the side of a bookshelf. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be breathing heavily, blood spattered all over her dress and body.

“Why are you here?” She asked without turning to him.

“I’ve come to talk.” Mephistopheles answered, pulling a chair from a nearby coffee table and sitting at a reasonable distance from her. The light was shining brightly on him but none seemed to reach the woman, black horns protruding from her head and her numerous wings coiled around her body.

“Is your little friend outside supposed to be your backup?”

“Yes, sort of… Wrath I-”

“You were at the auction weren’t you? I don’t recall the other one being there, but he was at the angel’s house so I can only assume he was as well.” Wrath continued, opening her burning yellow eyes and smiling meekly at Mephisto. “You’re gonna need some better backup, in that case. He stood there pissing himself when I took the angel from them.”

“From what I recall, you stole the other girl, not the angel. And given your weakened state, even my lousy backup would do, but hear me out Wrath: I am not here to fight, I just-”

“Want to talk?” She snapped, pulling herself up higher against the bookshelf, groaning as she did so.

“Yes. I’d love to, if you would stop interrupting me.”

“Fine then, I don’t have anything better to do anyway, aside from pulling my own insides back together...”

“I would like to ask of you, to help us.” Mephisto confessed.

“Oh for the love of…” Wrath said annoyed as she rolled her eyes.

“I know, I know it's ridiculous, and that you have no reason to but… you helped Azazel capture the angel and that turned out how it did. But that doesn’t have to be the end of it… I can’t find Uriel on my own. Katherine knows how to hide herself from demons. But she can’t hide from you, not many can.”

“Katherine… the name of the bitch with the halberd right?”

“You’d have the chance to pay her back for what she did to you.” He suggested.

“What I don’t understand however... is why?” Wrath leaned forward.

“Why what?”

“Why would you, a damned inanimaliat care so much about the wellbeing of an angel?”

“Because of what Katherine wants to do with her.”

“Beat her? Torture her? Kill her? Take her to a museum? Why would any of those matter to you?”

“Uriel is my daughter.”

Wrath looked at him in silence. She raised her right eyebrow in dismay. “What does she want to do with her?” She asked after a few moments of nothing, the tone in her voice different than before.

“She wants to perform a ritual.”

“If it's the ritual I have an inkling of it being…”

“It is.” Mephisto answered.

“But… If the angel is your daughter…”

“Exactly, which is why I need your help to find them both.”

“Hahahaha…” Wrath laughed. “So many years ago I swore to myself to stay out of demon business forever, and yet I always somehow find myself being dragged back into it…”

Mephistopheles tried to smile, but his fake grin did not convince her.

“You’re Mephistopheles, right? Azazel told me about you a while back.” She smiled, her golden eyes staring intensely at him. “How must it be like… that pain, that loss, so agonizingly familiar... You want to avoid it at all cost don’t you? And now you’re trying to save what little you have found, save that one spark of hope that you lost so long ago…” Wrath trailed off.

“Wrath, Why do I feel as if you’re talking from experience?” Mephistopheles asked. Wrath quickly lashed at him, the words cutting deep.

“Who are you to dare ask about my past and my pain?” She said, her voice echoing with seething rage.

Mephistopheles leaned back, surprised. “I am sorry, I wasn’t asking anything, just making an observation. I did not intend to upset you.”

“Leave, now.” Wrath growled.

“Wrath, please, she’s my daughter. I must save her, I can’t just let her die by my hand. Not again.”

“Get out. Now.” She told him coldly. Mephistopheles obliged, quietly standing up from the chair and making his way towards the door. He hesitated for a moment, before opening it and walking out. Wrath watched him leave then stood there in silence, alone with her thoughts.

Your child huh? She frowned at the thought. Child... why does this word hurt me so? Pains of times long past… if only I could remember them…

Mephistopheles walked past Evan, making him a sign to follow him to his car. The duo got inside and paused as Mephisto leaned back, sighing in disappointment.

“Take it… it went well right?” Evan grinned.

Mephistopheles slowly tilted his head at him looking at him with a dull and annoyed expression.

“I mean, you’re still alive and in one piece, that’s gotta count for something, somewhere.” He continued.

“Yes, I’m sure it does. Without Wrath, I can’t think of anything decent that would help with our current situation…”

“Fuck Wrath, who needs that demon cunt’s powers anyway? She’s the one who got us in this mess in the first place. We can find Kath on our own-”

“Well aren’t you a feisty one?” A cold voice echoed from the back of the car. Both Mephisto and Evan stared forward, unable to move as dark appendages coiled around them. “I’ve decided to help you fools. Maybe I did it out of the kindness of my heart or I just want to rip Katherine apart myself. Whatever the reason, if we are going to cooperate, I’d highly appreciate not being insulted. I'll let that first one slide.” Wrath crawled out of the lightless back seats, leaning forward next to Evan. She grabbed him by the chin and pulled him closer. Her long tongue slid over his cheek and circled the insides of his left ear, before she pulled it out and spat.

“Call me a demon one more time, pretty boy…” Her voice pierced him. “And I. Will. Kill you.” She slunk back to the seats, light suddenly blasting into the car, making her horns and wings disappear along with her tentacles. Only her bright yellow eyes remained.

“I’m not here to take shit from you.” Evan said defiantly. “I’m only accepting your help for the sake of saving my friend… Don’t ever forget you’re the reason I’ve lost one already.”

Mephisto and Wrath both stared in stunned silence. He turned slowly towards Wrath, and a strange shrouded expression clung over her face. Mephisto expected her to lash out, but something about Evan’s words seemed to reach through to some part of her.

“Good to know where we stand then. Drive, let’s not waste time.”

“Whoo boy…” Evan whispered to himself, letting out a deep sigh. He was amazed his bold move worked.