After a few months of being weighed down by uninvited guests, I had now become one myself. I could see the appeal. However, the whole fox in the henhouse deal was a lot more fun when I had all my claws and teeth still, and not a gaping wound in my head. Stretching my luck as thin as it could get, I would just have to make do with whatever I could scrape together. Struggling and persisting, In what could be my final hour.
“Lay on the floor,” I told David. “Pretend I forced you into helping.”
The liquid surged into my veins, my arm tensing from the pain. He nodded and dropped to a sprawl across the gray stone, the empty syringe beside him.
I didn’t feel calm, as I had expected. Whatever effect it was meant to have on me, I felt like a firestorm. Harsh winds that had whipped up flame, an uncontrollable towering inferno. The radiant energy fought against my demonic. My legs and arms could move, so it was having some effect, at least.
Exhaling and feeling slight vertigo, I walked over to the door. Unlocked it, and pulled it open.
A short man, a graying haircut as sharp as his pale eyes. He wore a brown tunic and overcoat, rather than the grays I had expected. Immediately, his face turned to shock and confusion.
“Who are- what are you?” His eyes darted around, either for backup or escape.
I head-butted him. Probably not the best idea with my fragile skull, but I was impressed that I seemed to knock the man out. Broke his nose too, if the blood was anything to go by. Seems par for the course that I would leave a trail of the stuff wherever I went.
“Come help this chap, David,” I called back. “I’m going to go find my way out before things start getting… shooty.”
He rose from the floor and came over. “There’s an artefact down the south side of the building. It might help you.” From his pocket, he withdrew a key. “This one is an exit key, but it’s not tuned to anything.”
“Thanks.” I retrieved it and placed it in my pocket. I’m sure I’d find a way of making it work. That sort of thing was in my wheelhouse.
“Be safe, Eric. If things work out… keep in touch? With the Church, I mean.” David gave me an awkward grin and looked down at the prone man.
“Glad to have met you, David.” I nodded and left towards the corridor. Somehow, I knew this was the right way. Now that I had seen there were some reasonable individuals in the Church, I wasn’t so keen to shoot my way to my goal.
It would still come to that, no doubt.
Being the middle of the night, I assumed, the place seemed to be relatively quiet. An assumption, because there were no windows on the gray stone walls, but I hadn’t spent that much time in Hell for it to be a new day already. Even if it did feel like it.
I had the uncomfortable feeling of the meds rolling around my system. There was radiant energy that my demonic was shying away from, but it wasn’t anything I could grasp. It didn’t increase the size of that little ball of energy I had inside me. The hope was that this artefact could renew my desire to be actually balanced.
Any longer in the Hells and I would have been torn apart, perhaps possessed by the foul powers within me instead. Corrupted into insanity or bloodlust. Sounded kind of nice, actually. My boots echoed down the empty halls, and I was tempted to start using them to kick down all these shut doors.
But I felt like I had been walking forever, like some manner of bad dream. Turned a corner and a similar passageway stretched out in front of me. Was I getting closer to the burning power that I could innately feel? Maybe.
“Seems you are lost, child.”
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My head turned to look over my shoulder. A man in deep gray robes with silver detailing, shaved head and round glasses. “Care to point me in the right direction then?”
“There’s only one direction demons need go.” He raised his palm up toward me.
Too slow. I was already there, demonic power surging through my fist, seeking a way out. The man flew back a handful of feet from my punch, slamming against the wall before slumping to the ground. A few broken ribs, but not dead.
“Sorry.” I shrugged and looked back down the hall. “There’s no special door that needs your hand print or eyeball to open, right? I honestly don’t want to maim you, but I will.”
He wheezed through pained lungs, but just shot me a sharp glare. If I had to come back this way for him, I’d be extra annoyed. Rolling my tired eyes at him, I carried on.
I wondered what shape they had constructed this Church to be so full of these long, narrow hallways. Almost had me wishing for the layout and decor of the Org. Almost. The tingling at the back of my head either meant the alarm had been raised, or perhaps Wight had given up and my brains were about to worm their way out of my skull. I dared not touch it, but I was mostly certain David and the serum had patched it up to some degree.
The sound of footsteps came from behind. It was tiring more than anything - as much as I was trying to keep my temperament in check and not sully the halls of their establishment too much, I only had one hand for them to force now, and it was the one that did most of the killing. Even without the turbulent forces still struggling for dominance within me, I would have been easy enough to find if you just followed the smudges of crimson along the floor.
“Cease, demon!” The voice carried down the hall toward me and I turned once more to see who was spouting nonsense.
They all began to blur into one at this point. Robes or tunics of gray, short hair, pale eyes. All unique individuals… but I just saw them as different flavors of demons now. Targets waiting to be erased or neutered.
“I don’t want to fight. Use your thinking brain,” I called back. The hallways were narrow, and they were stacked up. A Hell Cannon would kill them all with one flick of my revolver. It remained holstered as a show of good faith - ironic given the circumstances.
My brief plea for rationality seemed to give them enough pause to change tact.
“Who are you, and why are you here?”
I tried to keep any smart comments to myself. “Eric Redd. Demon Hunter and Last Lantern.”
This caused a surge of murmurs and perhaps offense through the gathered group itching to become a shish kebob on one of my red beams. Wasn’t it amusing how I was a Demon Hunter, and they also hunted demons, but we were on different sides? Probably because the Org nuzzled us into the bosom of a powerful demon in order to get the dirty work done, whereas the Church was weak and should be erased.
Not quite where I wanted that train of thought to go.
“You are a demon in disguise. Allow us to exorcise you if you truly are who you say.”
I wasn’t too sure if these were the kill-Eric ones or the save-Eric ones, both seemed equally likely to want to scrape away Wight and whatever residual mess I had dirtying up my insides.
“Negative.” I looked up at the plain ceiling. “Hey, we aren’t under the ocean or anything, right?” A cave in to block the tunnel would go pretty pear shaped if I let in more water than I could breathe through.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Then my legs wouldn’t move - a neat trick. Some force was keeping me immobile as they began to chant. Not even in a nice way. Something about the words caused my ears to ache and whatever energy was inside me lashed about in trying to avoid it.
It made me… angry. The stone walls around me began to crack. Light fixture to the side started flickering. A cool energy that I recognized as Wight’s surged through me, and I quick-drew my revolver.
Fresh blood ran down my right arm, warm over the cool energy. My fingers felt numb, but I turned and stowed the gun. Kept walking. They’d recover from the injuries, and hopefully think twice about stopping me.
As their groans faded off into the distance, I made it to a widening of the pathway - and then a grandiose doorway on the other side. It was clear as day that this was where the artefact would be hiding away from my grubby hand.
Arched with silver filigree, there was an engraving that looked like some imagining of what Heaven supposedly looked like. Lots of clouds and faceless figures enjoying some leisure. Seemed pretty neat after the day I had endured.
I stretched out my neck as I took it in. There were handles, but it surely wouldn’t be as simple as walking in? There must be some catch-
Too slow, I spun on my feet to see the figure with palms outstretched a dozen feet away from me. So quiet on the approach.
A blast of energy sent me back, and I slammed against the door, stars dazzling my eyes again.
Beneath shadows, the wide grin of the figure was illuminated in the light. He stepped forward and began drawing something from his hip - a large handgun of bright ivory.
“Exorcist Cinereous, at your service, scum.” He raised the weapon toward me and squeezed the trigger.