Chapter 14
Storming out of the conference room, I make my way across the training ground to the food hall, where I grab a drink and Lucius comes up to me, taking the seat beside me.
“You okay?” he asks, concerned. I huff, laughing under my breath. The only person I care about is gone and he’s asking me a stupid fucking question like that.
“No, we are wasting time here doing nothing, while who knows what is happening to Frida,” I reply as my anger causes me to shatter the bottle I’m holding, sending glass into my hand, cutting my palm. I watch the blood drip, not caring.
“I understand your frustration, Evander, but what can we do against the entire might of Hell?” He retorts, manifesting something to eat.
“I’m going to kill them, I’m going to make all of them suffer for this and nothing will stand in my way,” I reply, zoning out, imagining killing those that took Frida from me.
We just found each other, and Fenrir was reunited with Serafine after centuries.
He’s unsettled, and wants to fight too. We have been training for this. What better time than now?
“You need to calm down and give the Archangels time to figure out how to best go about getting her back. Don’t forget they are stronger than you,” he says, trying to settle my anger as I pick the glass out of my hand.
“So what do you suggest I do then?” I snap, irritated.
“I suggest you continue training with Michael and try to not piss him off. If you can help it.” He jokingly remarks, sliding me another drink.
Just then it hits me, what Michael said… “If I keep training and master this power there are few that could stand against me.”
That gives me an idea.
“You know what, you’re right. I should keep training with Michael,” I reply, getting up from the table and heading back toward the council chamber. Just as I round the corner, Uriel plows past me visibly irate.
Fucking asshole.
I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I turn ready to snap at someone, but pause. It’s Michael.
“I understand your frustration with the situation, Evander, but you need to realize that…” I hold my hand up, halting his unwanted speech.
“I came back to apologize for my actions and to ask if we could resume my training.”
“That’s good, but you need to remember where your place is in all of this. Just like in the Army, there is a chain of command here and nothing is above it, not even me,” he mutters, frowning.
“I do understand. I just want to get her back, no, I need to get her back,” I reply.
“We want to get her back as well, along with all of the angels that were taken, but what you don’t know is, the last time that we went into Hell to rescue our comrades we lost thousands.
When we finally reached them they were already dead.
Lilith killed them as soon as she got them to Hell.
It was a trap. We fell for it and paid heavily,” Michael says with a hint of sorrow in his voice.
“Then let’s not waste time talking and get to training,” I retort, bringing the conversation back to my objectives.
Michael sighs, nodding. “Head to the training arena and I’ll meet you there shortly,” he replies, walking off.
I move over to one of the training rings to rest, plopping down onto a bench and my mind is flooded with images of what could be happening to Frida.
I’m pressing my palms into my eyes, trying to get the images to stop, when I hear, “Get up, let’s go.” When I look up Michael’s there.
“What do you mean ‘let’s go’, we are already here?” I reply a bit confused.
“The training that we are going to do is far too dangerous to conduct here, so follow me and I will show you,” Michael says, walking past me to the back of the training ground.
Running to catch up, he stops at a wall and I hear a faint sound as if he’s chanting something. There is a low bellowing rumble and the arena starts to shake as the wall opens up to a spiraling staircase.
“I’m going to take you where we do our training, which is only accessible to Archangels.
We have to conduct our training here, not only because of the power that we have, but also because we bring powerful demons here to interrogate them.
They also make better opponents, since we can use our full might against them without hesitation,” he explains as we descend the stairs.
When we reach the bottom we are confronted by Raphael and Azrael, standing before a sealed archway, covered in Angelic sigils. Michael locks eyes with them and nods. Without a word, they turn around facing the arch, lower their heads, put their hands together, closing their eyes and start chanting.
I can’t understand what they are saying.
A light radiates from the center as the seal begins to fade, then disappears completely. Stepping through the archway, the space opens up to a massive circular room, with a bloodstained pit in the middle, covered by a dome with silver and gold bars, covered by more Angelic symbols.
Peering through the bars, there is a giant pentagram on the floor that stretches to the walls of the pit, stained with blood and covered in deep gouges with even more symbols in each point of the star.
“That is what we use to confine the demons to the pit, those symbols engraved on the door and arch are Enochian, which is the language of the Angels. When we are here, either training or interrogating, we always have at least three Archangels, to ensure that nothing happens unless we deem it,” Michael says, sensing my confusion.
“So I’m going to train by killing demons?” I ask. I’m a bit excited to get my rage out.
“Yes, but you need to realize that these are not going to be soldiers, or scouts, we only bring exceptionally powerful demons here. Also you saw the arch we passed through?”
“Yes.”
“This place exists in a separate dimension. So time flows differently, weeks here are only hours back in Heaven. So we can conduct a lot of training in a very short amount of time.”
“So, that seal on the arch was the barrier between dimensions, like the portal to Hell in Purgatory right?” I interrupt.
I seem to impress him as he gives me a small grin. “That’s good, Evander. I see, Raphael was right about you. You do catch on quickly.” He points. “That on the floor is how we prevent the demons from escaping, once they enter it they can never leave.”
He explains some more, then he turns to Azrael. “Bring in the first demon and take Evander, let’s see what he is truly capable of.”
Azrael nods, then motions to me to follow.
We walk around the top of the pit, until we reach a dead end with a lever, then Azrael pulls it and the floor starts to lower like an elevator. When it stops, he swings the gold and silver gates open.
“Go on, hopefully you last longer than the last one,” he says with a smirk.
Stepping into the pit, he closes the gate behind me. As I look around I notice another gate on the far wall, and as it begins to open, Michael speaks up, drawing my gaze.
“This piece of filth is Belphegor of the Seven Deadly Sins, commonly referred to as Sloth. He has the ability to make his enemies slow and sluggish in battle.”
One of the Seven Deadly Sins, huh, doesn’t look like much.
“Let’s see if you can kill him the same way you killed Mammon.”
Looking back, the gate is open, but there isn’t anything in it.
“Above you,” Fenrir screams, alerting me.
Glancing up, I see he is above me. When I try to dodge it feels like I’m glued to the floor, catching me off guard, causing me to look at my feet.
As I look back to my right all I see is a blur, as a clawed fist smashes into my head, driving me to the ground, holding me there.
Pushing with such force, I can feel my skull cracking.
Then Belphegor bends down, still pinning me with his fist, and in a deep, echoing demonic voice, he speaks. “So, you’re the one who killed Mammon. I don’t see how something as weak as you could have accomplished that.”
He sneers, looking up at Michael. “I could kill you right here and now, but where is the fun in that? Speaking of fun, when I’m finished eviscerating you, I’m going to enjoy ripping your little whore apart,” Belphegor says with a sinister laugh.
Exploding into a furious rage, I shift with such violence that he is thrown across the pit. Standing I finally see him, about ten feet tall, his face is a cracked, decayed cow skull with sinister black horns, twisting outward and black pit-less eyes.
His body is sickly lean, with black skin with what looks like grotesque red roots mangled and entangled over its torso. He also has long thin, but powerful arms and eight inch claws at the end of each finger. Utterly terrifying but it doesn’t matter nothing will stand in my way.
“So you do have some power, it doesn’t matter, you will die…” Before he finishes, I lunge and close the distance instantly.
“Shut your mouth!” I roar out, slamming his head into the wall, with my right claw; as my left digs into his stomach. How dare he call Frida a whore. Fenrir agrees with me. No one calls our mates such filthy things.
He grabs my forearm and pulls my claw free from his gut, then pushes me back. Before he can recover I rush him again, slashing repeatedly, viciously, completely lost in my rage.
“Evander, you can’t kill him like this. I understand you’re hurting, but don’t let him get the advantage. Control yourself,” Michael shouts, pulling me out of my furious state.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha, there is that power. You surprised me a little with that attack. I’ll admit,” Belphegor shouts with another menacing laugh. “But now I’m done playing around,” he growls, his tone snapping back to stern and pissed off.
He vanishes from sight, appearing behind me, slashing down with his right claw at my back. Just before he connects, I turn around and close the distance, grabbing his wrist.
“How, how are you faster than me?” he shouts with a hint of fear in his voice.