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Son of Strife [Demonic Urban Fantasy]
Chapter 3 – Prince Of Hell

Chapter 3 – Prince Of Hell

Rodrigo wasn’t sure what to say, or if he should even respond to the voice at all.

“You okay in there, bro?” Carlito asked from outside the bathroom door.

“Uh, yeah. Just had the runs. Go down without me.” Maybe all those blows to the head from his mother had finally knocked a screw loose, but if not, he shouldn’t be scaring his family.

Rodrigo looked in the mirror. For some reason, he was dressed in different clothes than he had left the house in. And while he was no stranger to waking with bed head, his hair seemed as if he had spent the night in a hurricane. Also, the overhead light must have been on the fritz, because he could swear he was seeing blue flecks in his black hair.

With a trembling hand, he opened the medicine cabinet to grab one of his plastic combs. As he combed his hair forward in silence, a daily ritual usually preceded by a shower, he felt himself calming. Maybe if he didn’t acknowledge the voice, it would go away.

Once he had his hair straightened into the Caesar style he favored, he left the bathroom and jogged down the stairs to the living room. His mother was nowhere in sight, but Raquel and Carlito were sitting on the couch watching TV.

“Where’s Mom?” Rodrigo asked, already having a good idea.

“Out,” Raquel said. “Didn’t leave anything for lunch, either.”

Even on weekends, their mother leapt at any excuse to avoid taking care of Rodrigo and his siblings. It made him feel more like a teen dad than an older brother. However, what worried him more was it was 12:30, and he remembered nothing after touching the urn at around 8:00 yesterday.

“You lost consciousness when I took control. That is why you remember nothing,” Resent said, as if reading his thoughts.

“Oh crap, you really are a demon. You’re after my soul, aren’t you? I don’t care what you offer me, you can’t have it!”

“What are you raving about, fool? Your soul is worthless to me.”

“Well...what do you mean by took control?”

“I refuse to answer further questions until I am presented with a proper meal.”

“You would be pretty mad if I went on a hunger strike, now wouldn’t you?”

“Heh. As if it matters. Demons require no nourishment to survive. Like sleep, food is merely an indulgence for us.”

“So, what are we eating?” Raquel asked, pulling Rodrigo out of his internal nightmare.

“Anybody got a problem with pizza?”

“Nope. I’ll go with you,” Carlito said.

Rodrigo grabbed his jacket that someone had placed on the coat rack by the door. He fished his leather wallet out of the pocket and peeked inside. He had a whopping thirty bucks to his name.

Outside, seconds after Rodrigo locked the door, Carlito said, “Raquel knows we sneaked out yesterday. She’s going to blackmail us with it.”

“Ah, she never fails to give us something to look forward to.”

“Forget that. Why’d you lie to me?”

“Listen, I’m hazy on the details myself. We’ll talk about it when we get back.”

As they were walking the two blocks, Rodrigo could tell Carlito had a bunch of questions, but he contained himself.

Once the brothers entered the small pizzeria, two older teens shifted their gazes toward them from their table in the corner by the exposed brick wall. They were sitting there with their hoods pulled up and sipping soft drinks through plastic straws. One was tall and slim, wearing just enough black and yellow to imply he was a Latin King, while leaving himself room for deniability. His friend with the nasty scowl was shorter, broader at the shoulders and with bigger arms, like a gym rat.

Carlito was oblivious to their attention, pressing his face against the glass they displayed the pizzas behind, as if trying to sniff past it.

As they returned to their spirited debate about who the hottest girl in their school was, Rodrigo put them out of mind and approached the counter. “Hey, can I get a large pie?”

Ten minutes later, when the steaming pie was lifted out of the oven on the wooden peel and lowered into the white and red cardboard box, he paid the man $15, and took the pizza.

A moment after Rodrigo went outside with Carlito, he heard the chime as the door swung open again. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the teens exit the pizzeria. Neither of them was carrying anything. The pair were tailing them, and the cynic in Rodrigo could only assume they planned to rob them in broad daylight. He was on the verge of picking up his pace when he noticed his brother strolling along. “Speed up.”

“Why?” Despite his intellect, Carlito was still too innocent to grasp how senselessly cruel people could be.

“Just do it,” Rodrigo said, his voice a harsh whisper.

“Yo, kid, hold up,” the wannabe gangster called from behind them.

Rodrigo could make a break for it, but Carlito was a foot shorter than him. When his brother got caught, he’d be at their mercy to get him back safely. He took a steadying breath before turning around with a neutral expression, and injecting some bass into his voice. “Yeah? What’s up?”

“Why don’t you let us take that pizza off your hands?” the gym rat asked, as if they’d be doing Rodrigo a favor. The whole time, he and his friend edged closer.

“Carlito, go home. Now!”

His brother stood rooted to the spot, glancing from person to person, his eyes wide with uncomprehending fear. By the time he moved, the gym rat grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and held him still. “Where do ya think you’re going, little man?”

As much as Rodrigo wanted to do the reasonable thing and comply, seeing the way Carlito shrank into himself at the thug’s touch made his heart thump in his ears like a drum solo. He learned from a young age there was no such thing as a fair fight. Size, numbers, or even weapons. Someone always had an advantage, innate or manufactured. But to take a kid hostage...

Hoping his face didn’t betray the rage boiling within him, Rodrigo handed the wannabe the pizza box.

“And run your pockets, too. I know you got a phone,” the wannabe said, his lips split in an ugly smile as he loomed over Rodrigo, trying to intimidate him with the height difference.

“Sure, sure,” Rodrigo said meekly as he reached for his cell with his right hand. Then he drove his left fist up into the wannabe’s chin, causing him to drop the pizza on the ground as his head snapped back. His smile was gone as he staggered away. But Rodrigo wouldn’t let him get the distance to put his significant reach advantage to use.

He was about to really lay into the wannabe when Carlito cried out, stopping him dead.

“Ay, chill out, karate kid, or I break his arm,” the gym rat threatened, clenching Carlito’s arm as a warning.

Rodrigo lowered his hands to his sides. Jesus. What was he doing letting his temper get the better of him at the expense of his brother?

The wannabe wiped the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth on the sleeve of his hoodie. “We just wanted your shit. But you wanna pull a bitch move like that? Aight.” He punched Rodrigo in the gut hard enough to make him double over in pain before lifting him onto his toes by his shirt. “Not so tough now, are you, punk-ass?”

Rodrigo gave no response. Impossibly, he felt disconnected from the entire situation.

Seeing Rodrigo’s glassy eyes, the idea he was zoning out on him seemed to piss the wannabe off further. “Think I won’t beat you like I’m your pops cuz you’re a kid? Swear on my ma’s life, I’ll—”

“Silence!” Resent yelled, bashing the point of Rodrigo’s elbow into the thug’s nose with brutal speed. Before the wannabe even hit the ground, Resent spun and kicked the gym rat’s knee inward with enough force that it cracked. He lost his grip on Carlito and collapsed, screaming.

Rodrigo couldn’t believe it. He was still seeing through his own eyes, but Resent was in control of his body. Glimpsing his reflection on a tinted car window sent him deeper into shock. In a split-second, he had transformed. His hair had somehow spiked up on the top and sides as if lifted by an invisible force, while flaring downward and out in the back. His pupils narrowed into vertical slits, and his irises had turned purple. The smirk on his face radiated superiority and a savage glee at the opportunity to hurt someone.

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“Brat,” Resent said in a voice that was a blend between Rodrigo’s and the deeper voice Resent spoke with in his head.

“Huh?” Carlito asked, startled by the difference in Rodrigo’s tone and demeanor.

“Retrieve the food and return home. Do not dare begin eating until I arrive. Understand?”

Carlito nodded, picked up the pizza, and ran.

Rodrigo tried to follow him, but like a marionette being worked by a puppeteer, his body was obeying Resent. The wannabe started to get to his feet, but the prince raised his leg straight up and brought the heel of his sneaker down on his skull. His jaw struck the concrete with a bone-shattering crunch.

The gym rat tried to stand, wincing as his busted knee failed to support him. As Resent approached him, he threw his hands up in surrender, fat teardrops rolling down his face. “Come on, man, I’m sorry. P-please, just stop.”

Resent barked a laugh as he smashed his knee into the gym rat’s nose, crushing it in a spurt of blood. The blow sent him flying back several meters, and he hit the ground hard. Rodrigo was wondering whether the guy was even still alive, when Resent continued forward. They were scumbags, but kicking them while they were down would be going overboard.

“Resent, stop. They’re done.”

“They forfeited their lives once they dared lay a hand on me. Besides, the warm-up I had last night did not suffice.”

Rodrigo didn’t even want to know what that meant. “Why don’t we go home so you can eat that delicious pizza?”

Resent paused, seeming to mull it over before walking away from the bloodied thugs with a sigh. “Never let it be said I am incapable of magnanimity.”

His pupils returned to their round shape, and his irises shifted to the color hazel. When his hair fell back down, Rodrigo was in control again. It took him a moment to come to grips with what had happened. Now that Carlito had interacted with Resent, the prince’s existence was undeniable. Despite all the problems this was sure to bring, at least he wasn’t crazy.

Rodrigo started speed walking home. Though the consequences were the furthest thing from his mind as he was watching Resent dish out instant karma, now he could think of nothing else. Through some miracle, no one seemed to have witnessed what had happened, and his neighborhood wasn’t the kind with security cameras on every block. But those two might need an ambulance. And that meant police.

When he got home, the pizza was warmed up and waiting on the table, untouched, as Resent instructed. Raquel and Carlito were seated around it with three paper plates set out. Rodrigo took off his jacket, hung it on the back of his chair, and sat down.

“Hey. Carlito told me what happened. You okay?” Raquel asked, speaking with uncharacteristic sympathy.

“Yeah,” Rodrigo said. “What exactly did he tell you?”

“He said you guys were walking home when some goons jumped you for the pizza. But you knocked them down...somehow.”

Rodrigo exhaled. He figured Carlito knew better than to fill her in on the specifics, but with such a scary situation, it was impossible to predict how a kid would react. “Pretty much. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just eat.”

They ate without further conversation, though Rodrigo had little appetite after everything that went down.

“This is beyond my expectations. You have done well, my slave.”

Rodrigo wondered what they ate in Hell since Resent was getting so excited about a regular pizza. “Yeah, well, you owe me some answers, and can we drop the whole slave thing?”

“How many questions do you have, slave?”

Rodrigo sighed. “More than I can count.”

“I shall answer two. Choose wisely.”

“How is it possible for you to control my body?”

“Simple. This is no longer just your body. It belongs to us both now, which means I can take control to bring out its maximum potential whenever the mood strikes me.”

“Can I switch back whenever I want?”

“No.” Great. So not only could this demon control him at will, but he could shut Rodrigo out of his own body. If Resent took over again, then he might even hurt his family, and Rodrigo would be powerless to stop him.

“Okay, so who was the man that brought me the urn?”

Resent withheld his answer until Rodrigo took a sizable bite of the slice he was nibbling at. “Heinrik is one of my most loyal subjects. Like many demons, besides a physical aptitude that makes you humans look feeble, he possesses a special ability, or a Flair, to use the proper terminology. He can temporarily halt the movement and thought process of a single being. It is as if time is frozen for that individual while everything around them continues on.”

“I’m guessing he used that nifty trick to get my cell number?”

“Impossible to say. While in the urn, I was unaware of events occurring around me, and I do not know what this ‘cell number’ you speak of is.”

“Any idea why he picked me?”

Before Resent could reply, Miriam lumbered into the house, swearing at the top of her lungs. She stumbled into the dining room and sat down, as her children watched in stunned silence. Slowly, she slumped forward, falling face-first onto the three remaining slices of pizza.

“Insufferable woman,” Resent hissed.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Carlito asked as he stood up to shake her. He and Raquel had never seen her like this, but the moment she stepped through the door, Rodrigo knew she was wasted. His mother’s alcoholism started shortly after his father left and had only grown worse since. She usually had the decency to sober up before she came home. At worst, she slipped in late enough that Raquel and Carlito were already asleep. Being only a few minutes past 1:00, this was a record for her.

Rodrigo clapped his hands to take their attention from her. They had both seen enough TV to recognize a drunk. “Okay, guys, Mom’s sick. Carlito, find an empty bucket. Raquel, get a glass of water and some aspirin.”

Both of them hurried off with concerned expressions. Meanwhile, Rodrigo dragged his mother up two flights of stairs as she protested and cursed his help. By the time he had gotten her into her bed, she had passed out.

Rodrigo left her room and went downstairs to his. He was sitting on his bed when Carlito walked in. Patting the space to his right, he urged his brother to join him. “Don’t worry, Mom will be fine. She just needs rest. Right now, I need to catch you up.”

When Rodrigo finished recounting everything that had occurred since their trip to the Spiral, Carlito was staring at him like he had lost his mind. “So, you’re telling me a time-stopping demon gave you an urn? And when you touched it, you passed out? Then since this morning you’ve been hearing the voice of the Prince of Hell, Resent?”

Rodrigo was aware of how ridiculous it all sounded. “That’s the gist.”

“All right, so what happened back there with those guys? Why us?”

“They thought we were easy targets. You know how in the shows you watch and the books you read, there’s typically a bad guy, right? The idea is the same in real life, except most are less ambitious. There’s always going to be people who feel like they have some justification to do something wrong. Worst of all are the ones who basically do it because they can.”

Carlito absorbed that in silence. “So, bro, are you a good guy or a bad guy?”

Rodrigo blinked. “What?”

“I don’t know. It’s like when you were fighting, you became some kind of monster.”

“That was Resent,” Rodrigo said, not mentioning he had thrown the first punch himself.

“Is that why your eyes turned purple and your hair became porcupine-ish?”

“Yeah.” Rodrigo couldn’t offer a better explanation. “Carlito. Things might change from here on out, but whatever happens, I promise I’ll always protect you and Raquel. You two come first, over everything and everyone.”

Carlito nodded before leaving the room.

Rodrigo stretched out on his bed with a yawn. Despite waking up about an hour ago, he was feeling drained. He only meant to relax for a few minutes. Instead, he ended up falling asleep and entering a dream.

#

“Heinrik, where is father?” asked a boy about Carlito’s age. His lips moved out of sync with his voice, like a badly dubbed foreign-language film. With the unruly midnight blue spikes that made up his hair, and slit-shaped pupils, Rodrigo could tell he was a demon.

The demon with the top hat, younger than he had been when Rodrigo met him, looked at the youth with pity. “Unfortunately, Prince Resent, he is meeting with the council today.”

They were in a large, circular room lit by blue torchlight. It was spartan other than the books piled up on the floor, and a bizarre collection of small gauntlets lining part of the wall. A few of them still contained the severed hands of their former owners, long since rotted.

“Ose’s Flair makes him the ideal sparring partner for physical combat,” Resent said. “But how am I to rule if not properly trained in using my birthright?”

“Your father understands. That is why he has assigned you a mentor.”

“Who?”

As if on cue, in came a tall demon, whose size was only accentuated by the heavy black armor that covered his entire body below the neck. His dark green hair was bound in a long ponytail and might have looked mildly absurd on anyone else.

Heinrik stepped aside. “I believe he needs no introduction.”

“Misery, are you not supposed to be available to exterminate pests unworthy of my father’s efforts?” Resent asked.

If the words insulted Misery, he didn’t show it, though it could have been because his eyes lacked pupils or irises, and were an unreadable white. “Yes, but training you is of greater import for the time being. I warn you now, my prince, it will be more challenging than anything you have experienced thus far.”

“How much stronger will it make me?”

“Possibly more so than your father in due time.”

“Then I shall do it. After all, one day the crown will be mine.”

It embarrassed Rodrigo how long it took him to realize this wasn’t his dream. It was Resent’s. He knew they shared a body, but he never thought they’d be sharing dreams, too.

#

“Get up, slave. Now!” Resent shouted, pulling Rodrigo out of it.

When Rodrigo roused, the smell of his neighbors having one of their Saturday night barbecues filled his nostrils. Or so he thought until he noticed how oppressively hot it was in his room. Drowsy, he got to his feet and trudged over to the door. As he opened it and looked into his hallway, he saw smoke and flames everywhere.