Chapter 38: Cold as Hell, Part 4
Although he didn't want to do it, Blake Wright more or less understood the situation.
Or rather the disaster that was happening beyond the doors of his office, the safety that his sanctuary offered.
This was because the mansion was part of his own body. Sam was not being very subtle at first, but he knew it was Sam only because he could extend the tentacles of his consciousness through the hallways and see with the eyes of the walls. He was watching him now, effortlessly killing everyone who got in his way.
His inhumane yellow eyes, always burning in the midst of the massacre, told the whole story.
It was a bitter pill, but he'd better swallow it before he choked on it.
"My predestined heir, his birth a message from heaven, was actually the work of the devil himself." Blake laughed bitterly, alone in his office.
From the devil or whatever had replaced Mary. How many nights had he been sleeping next to a demon? And worse things.
He shuddered just to imagine it. What told him he had ever known the true Mary in the first place?
Surely she had been replaced at some point before Sam's birth, because the others had not turned out like him and he was massacring them without a second thought, he had done it from the beginning, there was his killer. But as unlikely as it was, the idea tormented him.
This conspiracy, how far did it go and why had the devil chosen his family to ruin, his bloodline to stain?
Whether he survived this day or not, he would surely never have answers to those questions.
Blake laughed again as if he was losing his mind. It would be easier if he could just lose it like that.
He didn't move an inch. He had no reason to leave his office. The prodigal son had turned out to be the seed of the destruction of his lineage and although he loved his wife with all his soul, it was obvious that he had lost her a long time ago, without even having a chance to mourn her.
At least not at the most opportune moment. The tears were already welling up in his eyes. Blake rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He had always been taught that he should not show weakness. There was no one who could see him, but that didn't matter.
Even so...
He intensely wished he had given her a better life.
He wished, of course, that he had saved her, although it was something unpredictable. But above all, he wished he had given her a better life. He couldn't help but look back, wondering if she had always been as sure as he was of how much he loved her.
He thought he couldn't say that and felt deeply ashamed.
It was too late for regret, the only thing he could do to fix the situation was sit and wait for Sam to come here. He didn't need to take a single step out of the office. Sooner or later he would come to him, and this was the best place to face him.
Blake crossed his legs on the desk and also leaned his cane, which was at the same time a conductor for his magic, on it.
Seventy-two.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
His office was protected by nothing more and nothing less than seventy-two traps, protections, seals and other things, which made it an impenetrable fortress.
He was no longer young enough to believe that if the devil came out, he could put him back in his cage.
But how would he do it against the devil's son?
That remained to be seen.
"I should have known, really," Blake spoke to the empty room as if Samuel could hear him. "That's why you were so suitable to be my heir. It takes a kind of demon to succeed in business. Come and I suppose we'll see who the real demon is... my son."
Blake laughed as if this were the materialization of the day he had dreamed of so much. The day when he would pass his burden on to someone else, being able to leave this world once and for all, or at least live for himself.
He laughed until he had no breath left, alone in the fortress of his dark office, while his family died 'burned'.
——
He was untouchable. Unstoppable.
He had been from the beginning, but the more Wrights fell, the greater the gap between the devil's son and his enemies. Sam could feel a wide variety of powers within him, wanting to explode outward, wanting him to let them loose, and he responded to their desires with a smile on his face.
He blinded people to steal their most important sense before killing them with ease, as helpless as newborn babies. Even a few seconds of blindness were more than enough for him to make his move.
He took advantage of his super-strength to tear off arms and legs. He killed one with the leg of another, in fact, hitting his head until he discovered what was the hardest. Unfortunately, the first thing to explode was the leg, not his skull.
He discovered a power to create illusions. It wasn't too powerful, or maybe he still didn't control it properly, but at least he was able to create illusions. Making enemies think they were lurking that he was in another place so he could then attack them from behind.
Without voice, without noise, without movement, but enough to deceive them in a moment of tension.
All he needed was a moment.
He discovered a power to pass through walls like a ghost, and that was undoubtedly a key power for the ambushes, which were necessary for his survival. He was strong, but that didn't mean he could act carelessly against such a quantity and variety of enemies. Charging blindly against the Wrights when he had no idea of their specific magical abilities would be suicide.
It may have given him a boost, but that didn't mean he was stupid.
And...
A wide variety of things.
Of course, he continued as before, shaping the ice he conjured and using it as projectiles. The ice was inexorably spreading in his wake. He was leaving the mansion as an unrecognizable frozen world.
No one could stop him now. No one.
They couldn't escape, so they had to try, but it was obvious.
Meanwhile, Belfegor would have the first floor under control. If any Wrights escaped the massacre, they would be few, and it would not really matter. Satan had made it clear from the beginning more or less that he didn't have to kill each and every one of them. Just the majority.
He didn't trust a demon and even less a being he didn't know in general, but he did trust that he would do his best to fulfill his purpose. And his black smoke form had shown him that he was capable of fulfilling it.
But, although he justified it, that was not the real reason. The truth is that he didn't care. He was still riding the crest of the wave and the only thing Sam could think about was how to keep riding it.
At least, he managed to reach the doors of Blake's office in this way. He had only seen them once, but that was enough. Among his many talents was an excellent memory and a sense of direction that had never failed him.
He could have moved to any other part of the mansion. He could be outside, for all he knew. After making so much commotion, he could have destroyed the body of the snake, but let the head escape.
However, Sam was certain that Blake was on the other side.
It had nothing to do with any of his new powers or one of his many natural talents.
He just sensed it. It was not something he could explain.
But he had no doubt either.
Sam advanced down the hallway. There were surely some obstacles in the way, but they would be keeping out of his way, hiding.
Normally he would look for them, drag them back into the light (or what passed for light in the mansion's hallway now, consumed in ice, all the lights stifled, and a storm approaching and roaring in the sky) and crush them like the insects they were. However, now that he had the "objective" right in front of him, he had no intention of taking any more detours. He could only go straight ahead.
Satan's son knocked down the doors of his human father's office.
At that very moment...
A variety of traps converged on him. The office was illuminated by a blue light so intense that it burned the retinas. On the other side of the desk, sitting with his legs crossed, Blake Wright was smiling at him smugly.
Sam returned the smile a tenth of a second before the chaos began.
Cold as Hell, Part 4: END