Guardian Angel (26 page)

Every step Michael took was painful, his feet searing on the burning ground. Claire squeezed his and Jazen’s hands, looking strained and clearly suffering. Michael gritted his teeth, focusing on his determination to keep himself on track.

The column passed fields in which people were laid out on racks as if they were crops. Demonic farmers plucked the people from them as they worked. The column passed giant pits filled with emaciated people, left there to suffer. They passed giant mountains made up of souls all bonded together in lustful embrace, but contorted in painful positions and made to repeat the same acts over and over in agonising monotony by their demonic overlords.

As terrifying as the visions of Hell were, the screams of agony, and wails of pain that permeated the air around them, were much worse.. They rose and fell like discordant music, as if the demons were trying to create a sound in mocking parody of the heavenly symphony. The stench was unbearable; sulphur, effluent and rotting meat were the only odours Michael could detect, and he had to fight himself to not retch or cover his mouth.

 
They shuffled past, demons stopped their ministrations to jeer and taunt them, shouting promises of pain and suffering and the torments they'd to inflict on the newly arrived souls. Several people in front of Michael, including an old man and a rough looking woman, broke down in tears. The demonic overseers goaded them on with whips and clubs. Michael kept looking round, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of Jasmine, so they could rescue her, and escape this horror. She was nowhere to be seen, but they'd find her soon. He was sure of it.

As he tried to take in his surroundings, Michael noticed the sky was a giant whirlpool of angry red clouds. The clouds flowed around in a never ending tempest, dizzying to look upon. As he tore his eyes away from the sky, he made out in the distance a huge bronze throne with a huge demonic figure sat upon it. The creatures wings, cast a large shadow over the landscape and a palpable aura of terror surrounded him. Michael shivered, he unconsciously figured out who that figure was, but dared not speak his name.

 
Claire squeezed Michael's hand, and he turned to see her eyes had followed his.. He managed a weak smile in return, silently thanking her for the small gesture of support. She had started off as an acquaintance, but with all she had done for him now he couldn’t help but see her as a close friend; after all, who but the most devoted of friends would go into Hell to help for you?

The lesser demons jumped about, shouting abuse, and throwing less than savoury excretions at the lost souls, but, although some stopped to look at Michael, they soon moved on without a word or even a jibe. Every time one was about to say or do something to him or his companions, a blank look would cross its face and it moved on to someone else.

Was this some innate ability of his, or something that Jazen was doing? Maybe, but he couldn’t shake the feeling they were being left alone on purpose, although why would that be? He shook his head, he shouldn't be focusing so much on questions he couldn’t answer.

 
The procession marched onwards. The right-hand column was herded off down a side path leading towards a castle made entirely of flame.

"Time ta be put ta work you lazy shits." the demons jibed. "You're gonna be repairing the Masters castle of flame with yer bare hands. That's what laziness gets ya."
Claire let out an involuntary sound in sympathy for those poor souls; surely no one deserved this kind of punishment?

As they moved on, the other group disappeared from sight, consigned to their fate. The left hand group continued shuffling forwards up the hill towards an abandoned building. From a distance, it could have once been a chapel, but its stone walls had long since crumbled and the roof fallen in. Graffiti sprawled all over its sides in various fluids; that Michael didn’t want to know their origin.

The hill was covered in blank gravestones, with no names or inscriptions to indicate to who lay beneath them. Faint wisps of smoke rose from the graves forming into figures, which sang in chorus, laughing mirthlessly as the processions passed by

.

“
Welcome, welcome damned ones, welcome to your new abode.

Never to be free, neve
r to know peace

Forever to suffer, no hope of release.
”

The group shuffled into the chapel, passing by doors that hung open, broken on their hinges. The fallen leading them ran to the back. One paused before Michael and gave a wide, sharp-toothed grin before continuing. The lesser demons also left, some congregating at the doorway to throw more excrement or rocks at the lost souls, before the doors shut with a resounding boom.

Michael was left standing with the other damned,  in line between broken pews and refuse. Broken shards of glass lay all over the floor, making every step Michael took agonising, the glass cutting into his feet. The lost souls wandered, hindered by their chains but with enough liberty to mill around.

“What's happening?” Someone cried.

“What do we do now?” A woman near the shut door yelled.

“I don’t belong here.” A teenager pleaded.

“Please help me!” Many voices cried out.

 
They pleaded with each other for help but each was so wrapped up in his or her own torment they just ignored each other's words and kept talking without listening. Several approached Michael, and he felt compassion warring with common sense. There was nothing he could do. It was too late for them.

“
Time to get these shackles off,” said Jazen, trying to ignore the pleas of the damned. Michael could tell he was worried, the angel's own metal control must have been tested to its limits.

“
Is it safe to do that? I mean, wont they notice?” Claire asked, looking around nervously for any demons. For now, it seemed, they had been left alone.

“
They shouldn’t notice; it’s barely even a flare of power to undo them. That’s assuming they don’t already know we are here. This has been far too easy.” Jazen bent down to touch his bonds. They opened with a loud click and fell to the floor.

 
Jazen’s words mirrored Michael’s fears; the demons had pointedly avoided challenging them. Something felt wrong, but Michael pushed his misgivings aside. "
I'll deal with the future when it happens."
He thought. If the demons had seen through their disguises, there must be a good reason why they hadn't attacked. He'd find out their intentions eventually.

 
Jazen touched Claire’s bond, releasing it onto the ground, before moving onto Michael. When the metal left his ankle, the shackles oppression lifted, and he felt stronger . He had to catch himself before, in his relief, his concentration slip and his wings reappeared behind him. Claire rubbed her ankle tentatively, where the metal had chafed her.

The relief was short lived, as a shadow passed over the red light cast from the stormy sky. Two figures landed on the far side of the chapel, behind a debased and corrupted altar. Michael recognised Garamond, although he had only ever seen the demon in human form. The other, took a few moments, and then his heart sank. Jasmine the Fallen.

***

  Jasmine’s hair had turned jet black, while her beautiful blue eyes now glowed the red of hot coals at the base of a fire. Her wings, still full of feathers, were now as dark as a ravens, and were now at least double the size they had been when Michael first met her. He pushed down rising nausea when Jasmine turned to look directly at him, blue tinged lips twisting into a smile.

 
Michael was transfixed by Jasmine's new form. He couldn't avert his gaze no matter how much it pained him. He had come prepared for the worst, but the truth of Jasmine's transformation hit him like a hammer blow. Claire put her hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him, while Jazen stood motionless, looking similarly affected by Jasmine's new appearance.

   Garamond also looked imposing, his wing span huge and his sk
in the colour of slate. His eyes, in contrast to Jasmine's, were jet black and pupil less. He radiated malevolence, leering down at the assembled throng, clapping his hands twice he bellowed a word at the crowd of the lost.

“
Scatter.
”

 
The power of his voice blasted the lost souls in all directions, some flying into the air, others through the broken walls and smashed windows. Some careered into walls, smacking hard against them and slumping to the ground in agony. The spell left only Michael, Claire and Jazen standing in the centre of the room, unaffected but feeling dangerously exposed.

“
Welcome, Michael. I was going to pay you a visit up on Earth, but I see you have saved me the trouble. So good of you to enter the pit of your own accord.” Garamond's voice was like the combined motion of a nest of vipers.

“
Garamond…” Jazen hissed through clenched teeth.

“
That’s my name, angel filth." Garamond pointed a finger at him. "Feel free to repeat it as much as you like, for it will do you no good when you’re my pet footstool.”

  
A bolt of dark energy leapt from his outstretched hand and hit Jazen square in the chest. The Guardian doubled over, retching up black bile as he struggled to breath. Claire leant down to help him, stroking his back. Jazen struggled back up to his feet with Claire’s help, letting loose the song to manifesting his wings and armour.

“
Oh, the Angel bares his fangs, for all the good it will do him." Garamond taunted. "How pathetic having your mortal support you, but then it is to be expected from a lowly Guardian."

 
During the altercation between Jazen and Garamond, Jasmine never once took her eyes off Michael. He felt the hatred, anger and guilt directed at him through Jasmines gaze and it took an effort of will to keep his eyes fixed on her. He let his concentration slip, and Jasmine's lips twisted into a smile. Realising what had happened, Michael turned. He saw the faint outline of his own Grigori wings behind him.

“
Oh …soo," Garamond said, gesturing theatrically. "That explains why you can tap into the Symphony, young Michael. You have a little of the divine in you. Those horny Grigori! But then, if it weren't for them, I wouldn’t have the precious opportunity to lay the Heavens low once and for all."

“I won't help you, Garamond. I’m only here for one reason.” Michael's reply was defiant, although inside he felt his guts were about to run away.

“
Such a hero aren't you Michael? But let’s face it…you're not. You're just a normal little man with a little angel blood in him trying to save the world. It’s pathetic, you stand no chance. You only got this far because I allowed you too,” Garamond replied.

“I won't know until I try.” Michael stared straight into Jasmine’s eyes, as he spoke. She looked away and, for the faintest moment Michael thought her features softened, the red glow dimming just a fraction. The moment passed, though, and she stared back at him again with the same fixed mirthless grin.

“
I don’t want to be saved, Michael. I like it here; I like the freedom I have now. I’m not chained to you or your stupid whims, and I don’t have to listen to that awful, boring music anymore either.” Her voice was harsh yet seductive, a voice that promised ecstasy, but at the price of suffering.

“
I don’t believe that. I know I can save you. I love you.” Michael tried to ignore what she'd said. He knew this wasn't really her. He knew he could get through to her. A faint outline of gleaming silver armour formed over his clothing. That must be all the divine protection his thin angelic blood could muster in such a place.

“
Oh but you can save her, Michael, or at least be with her." Garamond's voice was full of passion. "All I ask in return is that you join me. Think of it. You could help me bring the stagnation and oppression of Heaven’s dominance to an end. Imagine the power you could wield. Think of all you could achieve. And all of it with the woman you love by your side.”

For a fleeting moment the thought crossed his mind, could he be right, could he really be with Jasmine that way? What did he care about the great battle between good and evil, as long as he could get what he wanted: Jasmine?

 
No, siding with Garamond wouldn’t get him what he wanted anyway. He could be with Jasmine, but she wouldn’t be the woman he fell in love with. Besides, in doing so he would serve as a tool to undo all the good he had believed in since he was a kid. Even when he was little Michael had dreamed of being a hero like in the movies, saving the Earth and getting the girl.

  
Now finally Michael had his chance, and being the big man didn’t matter to him. He wasn’t interested in power or glory, or anything so naïve. The situation would have made him laugh had it not been so serious, his life turned totally upside down. All he wanted was to somehow save Jasmine, and even if he failed, he was determined at least to try.

“
Don’t listen to him, Michael,” Jazen coughed out the words through his pain.

“
You have free will, little man," Garamond persisted. "So what’s it going to be? Join with me and be with your beloved, or watch her flay your little friends alive before I send her after you?”