“Now,” Arias said, closing his eyes and lifting the first of the knives. “We usher in a new age for the world.”
“Are you scared?” Marlon asked. “I mean, even a little?”
Arias laughed but did not open his eyes. “No. I’m more excited than anything. You?”
“Same,” Marlon lied.
“That’s good. It’s kind of late to back out now, Marlon.”
“I’m not.”
“We failed to stop them from getting the Jewel of the Seraphim. I sense it.”
“So they can stop us?”
“Only if they find us in the next few seconds.”
Arias slashed the air with the blade, whispering several words in ancient Sumerian. He repeated the ritual with each of the four blades before finally throwing his hands into the air and screaming “Painus volthoom anumus! Painus volthoom anumus!”
Marlon raised a hand to shield his eyes. The light from the blades was so bright now that the crook could barely make out the form of Arias in the center of the pentagram. It looked like Arias was rising to his feet, arms spread wide as if in supplication.
A noise like the cracking of a door echoed throughout the room and Marlon felt a gust of wind suddenly buffet his body backwards.
Through the glare, Marlon thought he saw a figure emerge to stand beside Arias. The figure was male and just as nude as Arias was, but he stood over seven feet tall and strange objects protruded from his body: something like a railroad spike bisected his skull and barbed wire wrapped about his chest and waist, digging into the skin.
Words filtered to him through the wailing of the wind, a conversation occurring between Arias and the newcomer. The strange creature’s voice sounded harsh and cruel, its words coming to him with the scent of rotting death.
“You have summoned us?”
“I wish to know your secrets,” Arias replied. “I am willing to be your vessel in this world.”
“My brothers and sisters cannot enter through this small rift. You have succeeded in freeing only myself and not all of our kind. Another spell needs to be enacted, on higher ground. What is the highest point in this city?”
“The Empire State Building. I can perform it there.” Arias sounded excited, exultant.
“Then there is only one more thing to be discussed. You have the sacrifice?”
“I do.” Marlon saw Arias point towards him. “He has grown bored with this life and wants to know your pleasure.”
The strange thing laughed then and it was a horrible sound, one that made Marlon immediately regret his decision to go along with this. He thought suddenly of his mother, whom he hadn’t seen in over a decade. She’d been so good to him and so sad when he’d turned to a life of crime. He wished that he hadn’t let her down.
Marlon fumbled in his pocket for his pistol as the monster approached. Marlon could see its flayed skin and the many wounds that marked it from head to toe. “No,” Marlon whimpered. “Arias, I
helped
you!”
Arias seemed to fade away then, into glittering bursts of starlight. The mage was absorbed into the demon, becoming one with him. It was the way of the spell, that a mortal should share his form with the demon so that the demon might better understand his new home. In exchange, Arias became one with an entity of pure power and ageless wisdom.
And the last payment was the blood of a mortal sacrifice.
It was with two voices that the demon thing now spoke. “Marlon, I’m inside here. It’s me—Arias.”
“Then please… help me!” Marlon pointed his gun at the horrible thing that approached. When it became apparent that his entreaties were falling on deaf ears, he began firing his weapon. The bullets ripped through sinew and bone but did nothing to deter the monster’s progress.
When the demon thing spoke again, there was little trace of Arias any longer. “I am more than I was before,” the creature said through blackened lips. A bloated tongue snaked out and tasted the air, as if sensing the almost tangible fear that leaked from Marlon. “No longer am I simply Arias. I am one with a greater power now. I am Ba’al.”
Marlon screamed as Ba’al reached out with a flayed hand and gripped him about the throat. The sudden pressure caused Marlon’s terror to quickly become soundless and he was lifted off the floor, his feet kicking at thin air. As he eyes bulged from their sockets, Ba’al seemed to smile.
“I hope you get what you always wanted, Marlon. Your physical death will only be the beginning. I can promise you that you’ll experience things you never imagined. Your every nerve ending will be excited until you beg for release, thinking that you can’t possibly take even one thing more. But there will always be more. More blessed pain to blot out your every thought.”
A single tear ran down from Marlon’s right eye and Ba’al leaned forward with his cracked, blackened tongue to lick it up.
A moment later and it was all over, at least in this world. Marlon’s spirit had been dispatched through the ether and his body was a bloodied ruin, several of its choicest organs having been ripped from the carcass and devoured by Ba’al.
Ba’al suppressed his human host’s glee at having turned the tables on the insufferable Marlon, instead focusing on the far more important task that lay ahead. In order for the gates to be opened, the spell would need to be performed one more time, on the highest ground possible. The Empire State Building would do nicely and there would be no need for a human sacrifice this time.
The demon closed its seared eyelids, preparing to use the human magician’s spell casting abilities to teleport straight to the Empire State Building. Surprisingly, he felt something blocking his path, an invisible barrier of mystical energy that restricted his ability to move freely on this plane.
Ba’al allowed his consciousness to expand outwards, until it sensed the source of this impediment. Doctor Satan and the villain’s nemesis, Ascott Keane, had worked this spell together. A surprise, to be sure, and not one that Ba’al found amusing.
The demon strode from the room, leaving behind the forgotten corpse of Marlon Woodson. The man who had sought the ultimate in physical sensation was now condemned to another place, one where his torments would continue for all eternity.
Ba’al, meanwhile, had chosen to move by more conventional means towards the Empire State Building. Outside, he found Marlon’s roadster waiting for him and the demon managed to call upon the memories of Arias in order to access the vehicle’s controls.
Down the streets of the city sped the demon from hell, a shining roadster under his command.
CHAPTER XI
Allies & Enemies
The two men were beautiful to watch, each having trained their bodies to physical perfection. Tony Quinn and Max Davies were very much alike, with Quinn standing just a bit taller and Max being just the smallest amount broader in the shoulder. But in terms of their grace and skill, they could be confused for being twins.
Evelyn Davies and Carol Baldwin stood just outside the mats that had been thrown on the floor, creating a small sparring area for the men in their lives. Evelyn had found that they were joking when Max and Tony had suggested a tussle to pass the time but soon enough her doubts were put to rest.
Max lunged for the taller man, narrowly missing him when Tony jumped aside and delivered a strong chop to the back of Max’s neck.
“I can’t believe this,” Carol whispered. The gorgeous blonde was chewing on a nail, her toes tapping in their high-heeled shoes. “The whole world hangs on the precipice and they’re showing off.”
“I bet you’re thinking that Tony’s not usually like this,” Evelyn said with a smirk.
“Well… yes. He’s normally so erudite that it’s hard to imagine him doing… well,
this
.”
“Max is the same way. But I’ve found that men’s collective IQ tends to drop when they get into large groups. Or even small ones.”
Carol laughed gently, wincing as Tony took a hard punch to his midsection. “That’s funny.” She looked at Evelyn, who still wore her adventuring gear and her tone suddenly became serious. “Do you think that going out with Max on these missions helps the two of you stay close? I sometimes think that Tony doesn’t completely confide in me because he thinks I won’t understand or that the details of the Black Bat’s exploits will upset me.”
Evelyn hesitated before answering, allowing herself to watch as Max’s lip was split by a well-placed kick from Tony’s left foot. “I used to think so. Now, I’m not so sure. There are still things that Max doesn’t share with me. Awhile back, he destroyed the human host for a demon of some kind—it was called Nyrlathotep. Before he died, ‘hotep showed him something, something awful. I think it was the future.”
“And he won’t tell you what it was?”
“Not even a hint. But I can see it in his eyes sometimes, when he thinks I’m not looking.” Evelyn shook herself, as if wrestling free of something unpleasant. “But it is sometimes fun to be with him, to know what it’s like for him when the guns are blazing. And I’ve even saved his life a time or two!”
Carol smiled at that, knowing that she’d used her wits to do the same for the Black Bat on occasion.
Evelyn’s next words froze the smile on Carol’s lips, however. “So… are you going to marry him?”
Carol blushed furiously. “It’s never come up.”
“Really? With the way he adores you, I’m surprised.”
“Well… I’m not sure adores is the right word. We’re… close. In love, I guess. But we both know how dangerous his work is. Would it be right to risk marriage and a child when he could be killed at any moment?”
Evelyn laughed, which brought a scowl to Carol’s face. Evelyn quickly put a hand on her new friend’s arm and apologized. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear. It’s just… well, Max and I have a child. William’s his name. And he’s the most precious thing in the world to both of us. The best reason in the world to get married is exactly what you just said: he could die at any time. Why waste the moments you have together worrying about what
might
happen? Embrace life! Besides, it’s not like you couldn’t be hit by a bus tomorrow… we could all die at any time, Carol.”
Carol regarded that advice in silence, while the man of her dreams tried and failed to drive a fist into the back of Max’s head. It had been eerie at first, knowing that Tony had her father’s eyes, but it was reassuring as well. Her father’s death while on the job had troubled her greatly but his eyes lived on in someone else, someone who hunted down the sort of men who had killed her father… there was a wonderful symmetry to it all and Carol sometimes thought she saw her father’s love for her when Tony gazed at her across the table.
“Tony Quinn,” she whispered to herself, “it’s time you and I had a long talk about our future.”
* * *
“The eldritch barrier should hold,” Doctor Satan muttered, pulling his scarlet cloak about his shoulders. He and Ascott Keane had sequestered themselves away from the others, bringing together their respective mystical powers. Satan paid close attention to every action that Keane undertook, knowing that he was gaining valuable knowledge about his opponent—knowledge that could eventually be used to bring about Keane’s demise.
Ascott was all too aware of Doctor Satan’s motives but he saw no alternative but to work with the villain. To hold anything back was to risk total victory for Arias. “We need to find out what they have planned,” Keane said. The two mystics were both seated on the floor of Quinn’s study, the room lit only by three flickering candles.
“Beyond the obvious?” Satan asked with a sneer. “They plan to tear open the Bleeding Hells, remember?”
“We need to know when and how they plan to do it.” Keane closed his eyes, hoping that Satan wouldn’t choose that moment to strike. He tried to relax, planning to send forth an astral image of himself in hopes of locating Arias. “If the Hells were open, both you and I would sense it… but why are they waiting?”
Satan’s amusement seemed to grow by a palpable degree, forcing Keane to open his eyes once more. He found the villain staring at him with grand mirth. “You truly are a fool, Ascott Keane. It’s embarrassing to think that you’ve bested me from time to time.”
“Do you have a point or are you simply trying to antagonize me?”
“First, there is no ‘they’ to this case. Not any longer, I’d wager. The only way to open the Bleeding Hells is to do it with a sacrifice and I’d wager that our friend Arias is planning to divest himself of Mr. Woodson.” Satan’s eyes glittered with an evil humor. “And the Hells
have
been opened. You wouldn’t sense it because you’re not as attuned to the spirits of the night as I am… it was only a small rift, not enough to bring forth the denizens of that realm—not many of them, at least.”
Keane felt a flush rise to his handsome features but he forced the shame away. This was precisely why Satan was so important to their plans: his connection to the dark side of magic was much stronger than Keane’s and he was able to sense things that the criminologist could not. “But what’s prevented him from opening the rift further?” Keane asked, ignoring the way that Satan was staring at him.
“That’s what we should be finding out,” the criminal mastermind said with a dismissive gesture. “I’ll visit the astral plane and attempt to find out. You should focus your attentions on the Jewel of the Seraphim. Make sure you know how to use it when the time comes.”
Keane started to protest, not wanting to trust Satan with the important task of tracking Arias. But the villain was right: there were two important tasks to be done and it as foolish to waste both men on the same job.
The investigator rose from his seating position and moved a short distance away, towards the glowing gem which rested on a countertop. The angelic being within fluttered wildly at his approach and Keane reached out a hand to lightly touch the gem’s surface. “Can you tell me what to do?” he asked the entity within.
You must bring me close to the prime demon, the one to whom all the others shall bow down before.
The angelic entity pressed its small body against the gem’s surface, his eyes shining straight into the soul of Ascott Keane.
Contact must be made between this gem and that creature’s body. It shall not stand before the light of Heaven. It will crumble before me and with its death shall the Bleeding Hells be sealed once more!