The Peregrine Omnibus Volume One (71 page)

“What happens after that? Any demons on this side must still be dealt with, yes?”

They will die as their master dies, Ascott Keane.

Keane nodded, resisting the urge to continue stroking the surface of the gem. Something about it was comforting and pure… it seemed to strip away all the grime of reality and leave in its place only a brightly shining ray of happiness. It was a feeling that Keane had felt all too rarely in his adult life, which had been filled with horrific confrontations again and again.

Such thoughts made him think of Doctor Satan and Keane looked back at him, seeing that the villain was lost in his astral projections. An evil thought passed through Keane’s mind at that moment: that he had an opportunity to rid of the world of a great evil. Striking while Satan was helpless would potentially save thousands of lives down the road… but it was also a cowardly act. Satan was working with them and Keane had given the villain his word.

For better of worse, they were in this together.

* * *

Doctor Satan strode through the misty areas of the Astral Plane, his every move made like a returning champion. Here was his true comfort level, living full-blown in the mystic. He regarded the world of the material as a playground for his ambitions but it was here that his intellect was freed from mortal concerns and allowed to fully bloom.

He took delight in the pain of other mortals in the same way that a child might laugh gleefully as the wings of a fly are ripped away, one by one. Other human beings were beneath Doctor Satan and he saw them as trifles to be abused and destroyed.

Satan’s ongoing relationship with Ascott Keane was a source of continued frustration, however. Here was a man who was nearly Satan’s equal in terms of intellect and will. But there would come a day when Satan stood proudly over the corpse of his enemy, for it was Satan’s destiny to rule over all men.

The Astral Plane was a shadowy realm where other men and women could be seen only as spectral ghosts. There was no solidity here, only wisps of thought and inspiration. Everyone came here from time to time, but for most it was in dream or in the rare out-of-body experience. It was only a chosen few, like Satan, who could actively project their mind from their mortal form and walk amongst the Astrals. But from here, the entire world could be viewed, through the misty clouds that blanketed this Plane.

Doctor Satan focused his attentions on a clearly pictured image of Arias, one drawn from photographs given him by Keane. At first, he wandered aimlessly, finding no trace of the man… and then he began to wonder if perhaps Arias no longer looked as he did in the images he’d been shown.

Satan allowed the image he held in his mind to shift, becoming more fluid. He retained the overriding desire to find Arias but gave himself more leeway in terms of identifying the man.

What he finally saw through the mists ahead was enough to give him pause. It was no longer the somewhat foppish long-haired Arias but rather a monstrous brute with a metal rod of some kind embedded in its skull and barbed wire wrapped tightly about its torso. The figure was exiting a parked car and was slowly moving towards a structure that Satan recognized immediately: the Empire State Building.

Doctor Satan found himself horribly fascinated by the creature, which retained enough qualities of Arias to be somewhat recognizable in the face. There was an air of power surrounding this transformed Arias that even Satan had to be impressed.

And then the creature turned and looked directly at him.

Satan took an immediate step back, for it was rare for anyone to sense those in astral form. But there was no doubt that the creature had come to a halt and was now watching him.

“Doctor Satan,” it purred in an inhuman voice. “I would have thought you smarter than this. Turn back now and you might live a little longer. Try to block my path and you will know suffering like you cannot imagine!”

Satan felt his traditional hubris begin to return and he responded by flinging back his cloak and raising a fist in promise of violent retribution. “You do not frighten me, Arias! I shall see you destroyed!”

The demon opened its mouth to reveal a set of jagged teeth, looking as if each had been shattered several times. “Call me Ba’al, Satan… so that the name of your slayer shall be correct!”

Satan felt a rush of eldritch energy from Ba’al and he threw himself back through the Astral Planes, landing hard inside his mortal form once more. If he’d remained even a few seconds longer, the energy would have eradicated his astral form, leaving his body a soulless husk forever.

Ascott Keane saw his old foe convulse on the floor and he rushed to the man’s aid. He helped steady Satan, who quickly composed himself and pulled free of Keane’s grip. “What happened?” Keane demanded.

Satan seemed to shake himself out of a dream. “The Empire State Building… that’s where he’s going. I don’t know why, but it can’t be good. He has to be stopped. Quickly.” Satan locked eyes with his longtime nemesis. “And he’s not longer Arias. He’s calling himself Ba’al.”

“Ba’al…” Keane whispered, recognizing the name. A powerful entity from the Bleeding Hells, possibly the greatest of them all. “We don’t have much time,” he said.

Satan agreed wholeheartedly.

CHAPTER XII

Deathmate

Standing on the corner of Fifth Avenue and West 34th Street, the Empire State Building was completed in 1931, becoming the largest structure in the city of New York. It was a remarkable piece of architecture but there were many who had taken to calling the structure the “Empty State Building” for its difficulties in recruiting tenants. Even with the observation deck bringing in millions of dollars, the building had yet to turn a profit in its ten years of existence.

The distinctive art deco spire atop the building had been placed there to be a mooring mast and depot for dirigibles but such things had proven far too dangerous and the idea had been abandoned.

The observation deck located on the 86th floor offered a full 360 degree view of the city and had drawn visitors from around the world. It was to this location that Ba’al now strode, ripping the front doors of the structure off their hinges and striding within.

The first person to bar his path was named Norman Ferris and he was just sixty days away from retirement. Ferris was a big man with a shock of white hair, his ample stomach testing the limits of his security guard uniform. Norman had stared at Ba’al for several seconds before rising from his chair, setting down the sports paper he’d been reading.

“Sir? Excuse me, sir? But you can’t come in here! The building’s closed at this hour and there’s no costumes allowed even when it’s opened!”

That last bit wasn’t exactly true as no one had ever told Norman to block the entrance of costumed individuals but given how frightful this fella’s attire was, Norman felt sure that something should be said.

Ba’al regarded the fat man with an insolent stare. He had not time to waste, not given the fact that his enemies now knew where he could be found. Ba’al drove a fist straight through Norman’s skull, splintering bone and muscle as he did so.

Continuing towards the stairs, Ba’al dispatched one more security guard along his way, snapping the man’s spine before this fellow could even shout a warning.

To the 86th Floor Ba’al hurried, eager to unleash his fellows upon the world.

* * *

It was Ascott Keane who performed the difficult spell that transported himself, the Peregrine, Doctor Satan and the Black Bat from Tony Quinn’s mansion to the 86th floor of the Empire State Building. It was a taxing affair and one that pushed his abilities to the limit. Given the number of people he was transporting, it was decided that Evelyn and the others would remain behind.

The choice for where they would emerge had been suggested by the Peregrine. The most notable thing about the Empire State Building was its height, suggesting that whatever Ba’al had planned, the higher the distance from the ground, the better. There was a second observation deck, located on the 102nd floor, but it was smaller and more enclosed. Keane had thought he’d detected more than that in the Peregrine’s manner, as if the vigilante’s psychic powers had spurred him on to make such a suggestion but if so, Max had not offered it.

The Black Bat looked around, pistols held at the ready. “Should we split up? Someone head up, others head down?”

“Spoken like a true idiot,” Doctor Satan warned. “The only hope we have of defeating Ba’al is to pool our resources. Encountering him on our own, none of us would stand a chance, not even me.”

The Peregrine held up a gloved hand, cutting off the Black Bat’s terse response. None of them liked having Satan with them, but they realized his power and knowledge could come in useful. Even Max was willing to put aside his fury over Leopold’s death for the moment… “I sense something,” he said aloud, bringing silence from his three companions.

Both Satan and Keane nodded, their own unique senses picking up the arrival of something, as well. Keane reached into a pocket and lightly touched the Jewel of the Seraphim, ready to bring it forth when needed.

From within the building stepped Ba’al, the four daggers of Elohim tied about his waist. He stopped when he saw the men before him and laughed, inwardly pleased at the coming battle. He had sought to avoid it but now that it was inevitable, he would glory in their deaths.

“I gave Doctor Satan fair warning but I see he refused to take heed,” Ba’al said, his voice rumbling through the night air. The stars twinkled overhead and the smell of coming rain loomed over all. “Who would like to die first?”

Keane cast one glance at the Peregrine and nodded, giving the man Keane’s blessing to start the plan in earnest. The four of them had decided that the best course of action should combat begin would be for Satan, the Peregrine and the Black Bat to directly engage Ba’al, allowing Keane to sneak close enough to use the Jewel.

It was the Peregrine who struck first. He danced close enough to fire one of his modified pistols at point-blank range, the bullet lodging in the bulky flesh of Ba’al. The demon howled in pain but never slowed down as it lunged for the Peregrine, catching him with one oversized fist on the side of the face. Max tumbled down, his skin burning from the hellion’s touch.

The Black Bat, meanwhile, retrieved a small boomerang shaped weapon from his utility belt and flung it with unerring accuracy. It struck one of the daggers about Ba’al’s waist and knocked it free. The weapon clattered to the ground near the Peregrine’s left hand. The vigilante seized it and rolled away. Without all four of the knives, the spell to open the Bleeding Hells could not be completed.

“Give it to me!” Ba’al screamed. He raised his right hand and unleashed a torrent of Hellfire which engulfed the Peregrine. Max silently prayed for help, thinking that he was about to die at last.

To his amazement, the heat of the flames reached him but he suffered no other damage. A wall of invisible protection had formed itself around him and Max immediately sensed that it had to have come from either Keane or Satan.

Who it was that had saved him was immediately answered as Ba’al rounded on Doctor Satan. “Stop this!” the demon warned. “Ally yourself with me and I will find a place for you amongst our kind!”

“There could never be an alliance between us,” Satan responded, holding his ground as Ba’al began to run towards him. “Because in the end, I only care for myself, not any partners.”

Ba’al rampaged straight through Satan, who rematerialized several inches to the left, saved by a small illusion. Satan reached out with both hands as the demon charged past and snatched up two of the Elohim blades. “I believe these belong to me,” he laughed. Satan then ran towards the edge of the observation deck and jumped off into thin air. His mocking final words echoed in the heads of his fellow warriors. “I got what I came for and now the deal’s complete! I’ll leave you boys to do the mopping up!” There was no doubt in any of the onlookers’ minds that Satan would reappear safely elsewhere.

“Bastard,” the Black Bat whispered under his breath. He wasn’t truly surprised but it was still disheartening to realize that arguably your most powerful ally was now gone from the battle.

Ba’al came to a stop near the Black Bat, now shaking with rage. With three of the knives out of his possession, his plan was falling to pieces. He grabbed hold of the Black Bat’s cloak and pulled the hero close, opening his mouth so he could rip out the Bat’s throat. Quinn managed to wedge his pistol into the gaping maw and pulled back on the trigger, splattering the demon’s brains all over the scene.

Ba’al staggered back but did not fall. The death of his human host would cost him dearly but for now he could continue to animate this form.

“Ba’al… do you still want your knife back?” the Peregrine asked, taunting the demon.

Ba’al whirled to face him, his face contorting with pain and anger. Blood and gray matter dripped in equal amounts down his back.

The Peregrine ran forward, leaping into the air. For a moment, he was framed against the stars, the knife raised high in both hands. And then the moment passed, the knife plunging downwards to embed itself between the eyes of the demon.

Ba’al faltered, dropping to his knees. He readied himself for one last attack but a sudden glow seemed to surround him and he looked up to see Ascott Keane approaching with the Jewel of Seraphim held out before him.

“I condemn you to the hell from whence you came,” Keane stated. “Let us never again be troubled by the likes of you!”

Keane drove the Jewel against Ba’al’s chest and the effects were instantaneous. The demon’s body began to shake as holy light flooded through him, exiting again through every orifice. Keane stepped back, the Jewel fused to the skin of the beast and averted his eyes. A flash so bright it could be seen hundreds of miles away accompanied the destruction of Ba’al’s form, taking with it the early remains of a power-hungry magician named Arias.

CHAPTER XIII

A League of Heroes

“Is this your first trip to the South?” Evelyn asked, offering Quinn a glass of iced tea. The entire victorious group had convened at the Davies’ plantation less than a week after seeing Ba’al destroyed. Of course, the group was minus Doctor Satan but no one had truly regretted that at all. Wherever the evil Doctor was, everyone was glad it was not here.