They were on the move again; Benny had hardly needed five hours to heal completely. Artemis was relaxed for the first time all day. And Benny was making casual conversation, trying to make him laugh, or saying the kind of thing that made Artemis roll his eyes and at least pretend to be annoyed.
They lulled into silence and he felt a sudden pull to speak, “When I was… in Hell… I stopped fighting Alastair, not that I could do much… but, well. Anyway, he let me out of my cell after a while, he still kept an eye on me. He taught me to… torture people. I wasn’t… I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t… I was scared and it was as if he was…” the words evaded him all of a sudden, “He was one of the only people I was allowed to see, and It was hard… not to listen to him.” God, he sounded young, even to his own ears. He looked up for some kind of assurance.
Benny was clearly focused on him. Just listening.
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“After that… I worked in the more academic side of it. Designing plans for the demons to follow with certain people, steering politics towards general anarchy, creating chaos really. I didn’t realise at the time but, when I was hurt, my soul started to crack and pieces of Hell lodge themselves in. It’s how Demons come to be. I stopped caring as much about everything, pain, other people. I became stronger too, the longer I stayed there. I preferred it, that would make me a pretty terrible person, wouldn’t it?”
Benny cast a disapproving glance over to him, “You didn’t have a choice. Preferring to feel less pain is natural.”
Artemis shrugged, feeling relieved Benny saw it like that, like it was the only thing he could have done. Now he’d only have convince himself, “I guess… Then, he- Alastair sent me to a war zone.” Benny looked like he was trying not to interrupt, his expression too kind, it almost hurt. “The angels had begun a full-frontal assault on hell, it had been going on for maybe five years at that point. I was there another eight years before they breached the city. An angel, a powerful one, looked into my mind and… he saw what happened. He... purged my soul I think and sent me back here.”
Benny’s sunlit features were twisted in concern, sympathy, and tenderness that almost hurt, “I’m glad you’re back lad. You’ve gone through enough. None of it was your fault, it’s all on them.”
Artemis felt like he might cry. Someone reacting to this made him feel like he wasn’t crazy, like he wasn’t just moping. Something white hot and real unfurled in his chest.
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The forest was alive with activity here, the day was bright and grey the clouds spitting the occasional raindrop, “Almost there.” Benny puffed, his sprint slowing to a jog, “This last bit’s going to be rough.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” Artemis sarked, thin trees racing by him as he ran.
They stopped for a moment, “You ready?” Benny asked.
Artemis raised an eyebrow, “It’d be a bit awkward if I wasn’t, wouldn’t it?” A stern look from Benny made him smile, “Yes, I’m ready.”
Benny met his gaze, “Thank you, I’ll owe you for this Chief.”
“No more than I’ll owe you my friend.” Artemis said, then pulled knife out of his belt, slit it down his arm, hands on Benny, focusing on his energy. Benny was doing the same.
Benny disappeared into a flash of light that jumped into his arms, the energy glowing red under the skin on his arms.
He took a deep breath and ran, trees lashing by. He came by a clearing, natural rock choppy and uneven and smattered with rainwater.
A woman was waiting at the shimmering portal. She gave him pause, before tentacles and teeth erupted from her body, too big to fit into those dimensions of a person. He dodged, the speed of the strikes of the tentacles moving faster and faster, razer like teeth on the ends leaving gashes on the rock. He took a chance, charging feigning with his knife, then skidding past her on his knees, into the portal.
His body was wrenched into freefall, dark all around, he changed directions multiple times, dizziness overtaking him.
He closed his eyes. This had better work was the last thing he thought before he closed his eyes.
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He landed with some speed and a resounding thud, not noticing the last wisps of white smoke leaving him, padding his landing.
His eyes adjusted to a dark forest his eyes to a forest. He cursed; it hadn’t worked. Or maybe… Ahead a headlamp lit up the forest, almost as bright as the moon.
He made a dash for the verge; he didn’t know how far out he was from the nearest settlement. The truck came to a screeching halt and the trucker got out, “You okay kid?” She spoke. She wore a ratty baseball cap, and her blond hair came down to her shoulder, she was maybe forty or fifty.
He smiled in the friendliest way he could muster, “Sorry, I don’t know where I am, could you give me a lift.”
She eyed his tattered clothes, “Sure, hop on up.”
Once he was inside, he realised how numb his fingers were from the cold.
“Where you headin’ kiddo?” The trucker
He kept his answer short, “Louisiana.”
The woman whistled, “You’re a long way from home then.”
He frowned “Where am I?”
“Maine.”
Maine was hundreds of miles away from where he needed to be. He didn’t consider calling Holly; that part of his life was over now. He couldn’t go back until he’d sorted this out. He didn’t want to be around Myles and Bekett like he was now, he was a monster.
The more he thought about it, the more he could almost feel…
> He took Artemis shoulders in blood caked hands, “Why did you let that happen?”
>
> A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
>
> Artemis was confused, “I didn’t…I don’t-” He didn’t let anything happen. He’s scared and foggy and probably in shock.
>
> …Did he? Artemis wasn’t sure anymore.
>
> “You should fix him before he bleeds out.” Alastair said. “Don’t want a death on your conscience,” And with that he casually leaned against the wall.
The ride trundled on for another half an hour and he was dropped off at a petrol station near a town. The night was cold, biting even.
He was alone now with his thoughts. When he got like this, he’d usually ask Alastair to hurt him, take control so he wouldn’t have to think. It was hard not to fall back in that mindset, find sir, do as he was told. He wanted to hurt himself, but he had a job to do, no getting distracted.
He needed a map. Or a phone. And money.
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He was sitting the ground a while later with some idea of where he was going (from a grumpy clerk). There was a line of trucks stopped for the night, no cars this late.
A man walked up, “What you doing out here this late sweetheart?” It didn’t seem friendly, it felt predatory which set him at ease. That was fucked up.
“I… need to get somewhere.” he said.
“You have any way to get there?”
He shook his head.
The man knelt by him, “Well why don’t we help each other out? I can give you maybe forty dollars to get by. I’d just need a willing mouth.”
Artemis knew what he meant; it had often happened in Hell. Sometimes Ali just liked to confuse him, sometimes he needed paperwork processed faster than everyone else from head office and they were not beholden to Alastair. If it wasn’t fast enough Ali would get angry.
He’d probably try something, hurt him, take it further than agreed. That was fine. He wanted someone to hurt him, not respect him. It was comforting, familiar even. “Yeah alright.” He said numbly.
The man smiled. He didn’t feel anything. He was led to the back of the building. He was on his knees, the scene familiar. This wasn’t normal, he wasn’t doing this for the money, not really, he just wanted… someone to want him, maybe to hurt him.
The man’s hands came up to his head as he went faster. Pulling on his hair.
Twenty minutes later he was sitting in the man’s truck wondering what fuck was wrong with him.
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Twenty hours later he was in Portland, changed into something less military, jeans a T-shirt and a jacket. It was surprising how easy it was to find sex work. He’d bought a backpack, supplies, a shovel and a coach ride to Boston. A man had raped him since, not like it hadn’t happened before, took it further than he’d said. But that was fine, it wasn’t as if he didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good person.
A shower and a night’s sleep had been welcome.
He lay on a thin bed, alone thoughts swirling round his head. There wasn’t enough distraction. Alastair would say something cutting if he was here, then he’d wrap his arms around him. He missed that.
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They coach took a day to arrive and from there he hitchhiked to Connecticut then New York, on to Pennsylvania. That took another four days.
Sometimes he let a guy… even if he didn’t need the money. More often then not they’d say demeaning things to him, and that was fine, they were usually true. It made him feel… hollow, worthless. And that was probably how he should feel. He’d stopped saying no more often than not. And it hurt in more ways than one. And he didn’t feel so numb when it did.
It was the only real human contact he got, and it was nice when a man would look at him like that, like he was something to desire. It was validating he supposed.
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Five more days and he’d passed though Virginia, Tennessee, and Alabama. It got warmer as moved south.
Dive bars, like the one he was in now were common here it seemed. Sticky floors, old rock music and alcoholism haunted these places. He approached a tall man in his thirties, with sandy hair. He was a military type, American, and more than a bit squiffy from drink. He’d eyed Artemi more than once, but not too overtly, he wasn’t leering.
He didn’t know why he did this, in Hell, he’d done it without charge, this self-destructive cycle, validation, emptiness, intimacy then nothing. It was like a strange form of self-harm.
He’d been taken to room. It had been quick, but not bad, and not demeaning either. That was odd. Just quiet, intimate maybe. Perhaps he didn’t have anyone to be intimate with. Artemis lay there, disconnected.
“You alright?” Asked the man.
“I’m fine.” He heard himself say.
Another few minutes passed, and Artemis began to sit up get himself together.
“Kid,” The man said like something awful had just occurred to him, “How old are you?”
No-one had asked him that in a long time, not least with concern, “Old enough.”
“Do you need… help?” the man asked uncomfortably, eyeing his back and Artemis realised he was studying the scars that littered his body.
“I’m fine and I don’t like to repeat myself.” Artemis snapped.
“Okay, got it… Do you need to phone home though? Your accent... you’re not from around here.”
“No.” He walked into the bathroom and walked out twenty minutes later, without a word. Who did this man think he was? Asking if he needed help? He didn’t, he was doing fine, actually.
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He arrived at the town, St Ives at night, but he was so close.
The half-moon shone bright tonight and crickets ticked in the long grass. He passed a sign, an old graveyard, rows of unmarked graves. He walked down the row, and his arm began to glow, it got brighter and brighter until he reached the right one. It was buzzing now.
“Hold on my fanged friend, I’m getting there.” He murmured. He took the extendable shovel and started to dig. It was not a shallow grave and Artemis had never gone grave digging before. He was out of breath and perspiring soon.
Eventually, he hit a wooden coffin and thew the shovel to the side. It creaked as he pried it open, a plume of dust rising. The smell was overpowering, and he coughed several times. A decrepit body lay inside.
He took his arm in hand, cut it open again and focused on pushing the energy out. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, a fully restored Benny was climbing out of the box, “My god I need a shower. Nasty.” Benny said.
Artemis coughed, “I have never agreed with you more.” Benny flexed, his fangs coming out. “Everything working?” Artemis asked.
Benny grinned, “Beautifully, thanks to you.” He came closer, clasping his arm, pulling him in for a hug, "I wouldn’t have made it out of there without you.” He broke away, still grinning, “We did it, Chere.”
Artemis couldn’t help but let Benny’s joy infect him, “We did, my friend. That we did.” He climbed out of the grave, picking up his stuff, he had been careful not to work in this town, “We should get back to the motel. Now, I don’t have time to stop at a hospital along the way but-” He tossed a water bottle to Benny, filled with crimson coloured liquid, “I had some blood to spare. I’ll figure this out later.”
Benny caught the bottle midair, “Thanks.”
Artemis waved it away and tossed back a bundle from the bag, “Oh, and I don’t know what your size is, but this is my best guess.”
Benny examined the Karki’s and flannel with curiosity, “Chief, I don’t know how to-” his voice layered with emotion.
“You don’t have to.” Artemis cut him off, “You would have done the same, you’ve saved my life.”
Benny snorted, “You’re not allergic to feelings, you know that right?”
Artemis rolled his eyes. It was becoming a habit around this man. They walked off into the night, and Artemis wasn’t sure where they were going after this, but that was for then. For now, he would be happy he had his friend back.
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Somewhere in Illinois a man named Jimmy Novak heard a voice, “Hello Jimmy, My name is Castiel, God has work for us.” The man jolted, blue eyes widening.