Sinner ch8:
"Why have you summoned me?"
Robert's voice broke the silence of the room. The cultists stared in awe at their lord, tears streaming down their eyes. They all bowed at once, and the one in front of him spoke, not daring to raise his head.
"Oh ye might Lord of Hell, we, your humble and pathetic servants have summoned thy presence to honor you and present a sacrifice." Azatek spoke.
Robert looked around. Sneakily he tried using 'Bang! outside the circle protection, but his mana dispersed against the invisible barrier. Furthermore, the speed of mana accumulation had decreased tenfold, ergo he would be seriously weakened inside of the circle.
"Well, what are you waiting for, show me your sacrifice." He spoke calmly, acknowledging the titles he presented with. If someone asks if you are a god, you say yes! that was basic knowledge.
Azatek raised his head and called out. "Haracass, Pinonion. Bring her forward. Two of the men got up and pushed the woman forward. On her part, the lady, for the first time, didn't oppose much resistance, dazed by the appearance of a demon.
She had been raised a Christian but had long since stopped believing. And now, something unexplainable by logic had appeared. Various scenarios swirled in her head: An elaborate prank. Illusionist's number. Maybe those kidnappers had slipped something in her water a la Cosby.
The fact of the matter was, she had just been pushed right in front of his feet. She looked up and saw the horns on his head, almost glowing with their light, and her head felt clear.
"mmmhghm." She said, the gag in her mouth preventing anything intelligible from escaping her mouth. Robert looked in amusement with a 'Pull!' ripped the gag out of her mouth.
The cultists, awed by the display of supernatural prowess, remained frozen in place.
Rochelle immediately took advantage of the situation and spoke. "I willingly offer you my soul and everything else I own. In exchange, help me exterminate these pests." Word after word came out of her mouth like a machine gun, and by the time she finished, she looked up with those beautiful blue eyes of her, pleading with Robert to help her.
Robert was taken aback, and so were the cultists. Azatek got up and with his best fawning smile tried convincing his deity. "Sire, ignore the wench, together we can rule the world!" He said raising his balled-up fist.
Rochelle sent him a disgusted look. "Who's gonna rule what? One of you runs a failing flower shop, and from what I gathered, he is the most successful of the group. You are a desperate bunch of losers who couldn't even properly beat up a tied woman in a 5 vs 1!" She venomously spat at them. "Had you guys been any slower, I would have broken free and cracked all of your skulls."
Robert admired the spunk of his would-be sacrifice. He already had reservations because of the "grand ritual" they organized and the smell of this basement. Secondly, he was curious about accepting a deal. It sounded so much like a demon thing to do he had to try.
"Lady, wipe the chalk line at your feet, and it's a deal." he smiled, revealing rows of pearly white teeth.
For a moment, Rochelle considered the consequences of her actions. Letting a demon free held uncountable dangers, but no matter what, he would go free after tonight, maybe by cooperating she could reduce the damages. Without hesitation, she wiped a section of the line with her barefoot.
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Robert immediately stepped out of the line, his heart beating with joy. "Push!" he yelled. A moment later, all five men flew towards the entrance.
"Bang!" the ropes tying Rochelle broke in an instant and fell to the floor. Robert offered her his right hand. "I accept your deal." Rochelle accepted his hand and got to her feet. "Leave the rest to me," he said.
"Simon says..." Suddenly, gravity disappeared in the side of the room where the five cultists were. Their bodies floated gently, as they waved their legs and arms in panic.
"UP!" he pointed his thumb up, and gravity returned, albeit reversed as they fell on the roof with a gravity of 10 m/s^2, slightly higher than 1 g (9.8 m/s^2, earth's gravity) Slowly, the power of the spell increased, being supplied by Robert's horns.
Interestingly enough, the atmosphere had a total lack of mana. Robert could only depend on the small trickle coming from the netherworld through his horns.
The men tried getting up on the roof until, with a second "UP!" The gravity doubled to 2g, and they lost their balance. "Down!" he pointed down with his thumb, like an emperor decreeing the death of a gladiator.
The group fell down, with an increased gravity of 27 m/s^2. Already Robert could hear the screams of pain from the fall. At 3 g the group experienced an acceleration equal to riding the space shuttle, gravity already felt like being punched down on every cm of your body, and orthostatic hypotension started kicking in, restricting blood flow because of how veins handled the changing gravity.
The weakest of the group had already fainted due to plunging blood pressure. "Down!" The gravity increased to 4g. "Left!" they flew towards the left wall at 5 g. "Right!Left!Right! Backward!" At this point the group of cultists was more dead than alive, 9 g was already past the highest acceleration the human body could handle, especially untrained and unprepared ones.
Blood had spread everywhere in the desolate basement thanks to what Robert would affectionately name the "Gravitational washing machine."
However, the smile had disappeared from Robert's face as he considered an issue. "Damn, I'm missing a word that starts with A to finish the Konami code!" helplessly he canceled the spell and dragged the bodies in the middle of the circle, under the disgusted eyes of Rochelle.
The five were still alive, albeit barely, and resembled sacks of meat thrown into a blender. "As per our deal, I am to help you kill them, not kill them myself," he said with a satisfied smile.
Rochelle already regretted her decision, but at least she was alive, and intend on staying that way. Under the compelling eyes of the demon, Rochelle grabbed an iron candelabra and smashed it down on the head of the one they called Haracass, killing him instantly. She almost vomited once again at the gory sight of his brain spilling over but steeled her stomach and repeated the process four more times.
"Great job, I think you might have discovered a new talent. Well, it was fun, now hand over your soul, and I'll be on my way." Robert said admiring the work of the heavily panting Rochelle.
She looked at him and then smiled. "Thanks, but what are you talking about, your work isn't done." Her breathing gradually calmed down as her head cooled.
Robert frowned, "What do you mean? The pests are dead, and the deal is complete."
Rochelle then raised her eyebrow. "When did I say these were the pests you had to help me kill? The city is overrun by criminal scum and the police can't handle all of it on its own." She sighed. "As a San Francisco PD detective, I am enlisting your help to clean up the gangs terrorizing the city, only then, you can take my soul."
She said with a firm tone. Robert had to reexamine the woman in front of him. He had thought her a spunky lady that provided some amusement and had already planned on killing her after harvesting the soul, instead, she revealed an interesting spirit of self-sacrifice.
"Your soul for the safety of the city." he mused. then with an exasperated sigh, he nodded. "Fuck it, I'm in, not just for your soul but because it genuinely sounds fun." AS he said so, under a surprised Rochelle's eyes, he used 'Pull!' To unhinge a door, opening a path upstairs. "But I want a cool detective hat, leather duster, badge, a big-ass revolver, and my own theme song when I start butchering gang-heads." He turned around to look at Rochelle. "You writing this down? I ain't the type to repeat things."
Rochelle nodded and followed him out of the room. This wouldn't be the last time she regretted her gamble, not even the last time that same night.