From Heaven To Earth (The Faith of the Fallen) Read online

  “It will be tough to find a way around his defenses, and I’m not talking about whatever fortifications and guards he has down there. He’s more like a flawed version of your Father now. His mind is powerful enough to control Hell and keep it from Asmodeus’ guard. Even when Asmodeus wins skirmishes, Satan just creates more demons from the ashes of his dead. I’ve heard that once the Faithstream intensified Satan’s power, the illusions he could create were so powerful and convincing they could kill you. That is if he wants them to kill you. He could just leave you in agony, and if passed out he would still be in your head, in your dreams, torturing you with not only pain but your greatest pleasures too.”

  Until then, Gerald had not noticed Drean’s silence. The seraph stared at the ground, his jaw tight with concern.

  “What’s up, man?” Gerald asked.

  “He’s repulsive. He’s corrupted what my Father stood for and used the faith of others for selfish reasons, to kill and to torture.”

  Gerald wrapped an arm around Drean’s shoulder and grinned at him. Drean’s anger subsided not because Gerald had comforted him but because his revulsion for Satan was eclipsed by Gerald’s rotting teeth and fetid breath.

  “Well try not to worry about that now, alright? We’ll get you a pair of Docs, a new shirt, and a leather jacket. It’s going to get cold tonight. Then we’ll hit up my favorite part of town, The Circ, and acclimate you to life.”

  Chapter 8

  Nuevas Cruces’ humid slums always smelt like a titanic demon had fashioned them from spit and vomit. Shrazz decided that since the 1950s the odor had only grown worse, but it had never bothered him. It made him smile when nothing else could. Amongst the dregs of the city he was divine. He had no idea why no one else could see that. He immolated himself twice daily to keep the smell off himself though. Nothing sanitized the body like a fire-bath.

  Shrazz dropped his empty can of Budweiser, kicked it and sent others skittering across the cracked tile floor. For the first time in a century he felt impatient, and it had kept him awake for two days. Shrazz had anticipated this meeting for months, and he tired of waiting on Satan’s word. As soon as he had it the most important job of his career would begin. Not only that, he would get to see Riell again in a few hours.

  Being highly conscious of time made him feel less of a demon and more of a human. He chugged another beer to drown that disconcerting thought.

  His apartment’s walls and ceiling were deteriorated. Empty beer cans and pizza boxes were strewn across the floor and counters. Shrazz’s black skin made him part of the room’s shadows. Dim, yellow light poured in through holes in the wall from streetlamps outside.

  His black treated vagaru scale tunic and matching pants reflected no light, making him an apparition in the dark. His white formal jacket hung from the back of his chair. One of its silk sleeves draped longer than the other, its inner cloth crimson red: a backdrop for rows upon rows of medals he had earned over the centuries from The Falling Curtain.

  Shrazz had left his apartment only once in the past forty-eight hours. He had to ingest at least one mortal sinner a week to satiate his body’s need for sin-permeated flesh, or his metabolism would devour his own demonic energy and kill him.

  Unlike most exous, some human foods could curb his appetite. He had stocked seven boxes of meat-lovers pizza. Still, he had felt hunger pangs minutes after his last slice. Luckily a glutton with the self-indulgence of four average humans had wandered near his abandoned complex. No mortal sinner in a five-mile radius ever escaped his senses when he hungered.

  With beer to compliment the human’s soul, the meal had been exquisite. He wanted to devour him ravenously but ate only his fill and savored every charbroiled, fleshy bite. His leftovers were on the table. He would finish him later.

  Shrazz’s hearing wavered like he had been plunged underwater. He threw his jacket on and buttoned its white gold buttons. Light bent into a corner of his apartment. Shrazz bowed his head and cupped a fist to his chest in a salute. His hearing normalized. An imp stepped forward. His oversized black robes glistened like oil in the sparse light.

  “So His champion is finally en route?” Shrazz asked.

  The imp bowed to him and produced a folded white parchment from his garments.

  Shrazz nodded in thanks and took the paper. The imp backed into the corner, and his shadow portal deafened Shrazz once again.

  His hands shook as he stroked the paper, but he waited for his hearing to return before looking at it further. Shrazz took a deep breath to prepare himself for what the message entailed. He checked his buttons once more, straightened his coat and unfolded it.

  A blood red scrawl of an upright sword within the body of a diving phoenix glowed at the paper’s center. It burst into flame, ignited the parchment, and incinerated Shrazz’s flame retardant clothes. He could not inject his Inner into the flame to control it no matter how he tried. Skin on his arms blistered and flaked away. He fell to his knees and cried out.

  It’s only an illusion, he thought and fought against his fear. His vision blurred and dimmed to black as his eyes liquefied in their sockets.

  It’s only an illusion.

  Shrazz chanted the mantra out loud. The burning sensation simmered down and was no more.

  Light blinded him. He opened his eyes to giant trees, innumerable flowers of all shapes and sizes and clear skies. He saw a monstrous sun at its zenith, but its warmth was temperate. Behind him were mountains, larger than the Himalayas.

  “Shrazz, Exous Elite,” a sonorous voice said from behind. “Your willpower is second to none. Not many surface dwelling beings, even a half-breed of your stature, can see my illusions for what they truly are and best them.”

  He turned to find a naked man with weathered skin: a tan maze of scars and wrinkles. His long gray hair blew in the wind.

  Shrazz knelt before Satan, who smiled at him.

  “Satan, thank you for your gracious compliment,” Shrazz said.

  “Come, let us walk together as equals today,” he said. Satan held out his hand. Shrazz reluctantly took it. “I am sure you have questions.”

  “My foremost involves your expectations and my obligations.”

  Shrazz wanted to be respectful, but the situation made him uncomfortable.

  “You do not have to hold my hand if you do not want to.”

  “I apologize for my insolence.” He had forgotten Satan could read minds.

  Satan laughed and clapped Shrazz on the back.

  “Excused. I do not have expectations, Shrazz. That implies a chance of failure. I know you will succeed.”

  “Then I only need to know your mind,” Shrazz said, “as you know mine.”

  Satan nodded and smiled.

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Divinity comes first. What’s next?”

  “Using it of course.”

  “To what end?” Shrazz asked.

  “God is sustained by energy known as Faithstream. I have diverted its flow for thousands of years but am unable to tap into its fullest capability. I believe you can and will.”

  “If you cannot then how will I harness such energy?”

  “As I have said before, steps must be taken. The angel is but the first. You asked before of obligations. After you subdue him, you will bring him to me, alive. That is your task.”

  Shrazz nodded.

  “When will he arrive?”

  “This evening.”

  “Where will he descend? It will be much harder to track him without a location.”

  “Leoran did not give me all the details,” Satan said. “He is an archangel, yet he claims he does not even know the caste God is pulling the angel from, or the angel’s purpose. His feigned ignorance leads me to believe he has designs of his own. But I can wager it is the seraph, His personal caretaker. Only he would be worthy of such a charge.”

  “I’m sure you would have discerned such intentions if they crossed his mind,” Shrazz said. “You speak of th
is seraph like you respect him. What do you believe his mission entails?”

  “Leoran has hidden such thoughts from me before, somehow. The seraph is a bodyguard of sorts. He and I have crossed swords in the past, but yes I do respect him for who he is: one of my brothers,” Satan said. “As for the seraph’s mission, God is sending him to return the Faithstream to His hands. Watch Leoran closely. He is an opportunist. Do not underestimate either him or the seraph.”

  “I’ll remain wary,” Shrazz said.

  Speaking of Leoran seemed to disturb Satan. His lips were puckered like something sour had hit his tongue.

  They came to a high, gleaming staircase of polished stone crafted into the side of a mountain and ascended.

  “So we aren’t in Hell right now?” Shrazz asked as he gaped at the height of the trees around them.

  Satan’s tightened face relaxed at the sound of Shrazz’s voice, and he grinned at him. Shrazz thought he saw rows upon rows of small sharp teeth, but when he blinked they looked as dull as human teeth.

  “No, we are within the plane of Hell. About a century after I fell I commenced renovations on this area. It is a sanctuary for my kindred spirits. My garden.”

  At the summit they viewed the land from a wooden gazebo. Carved angels and demons wept over its roof’s edges. Satan raised his wiry arms and let the sun bathe him. Shrazz hoped when he aged his body would be just as defined as Satan’s.

  At that height, the blossoms of the forest looked like someone had taken a paintbrush and swathed pinks, blues, reds and greens across the tops of the trees.

  “This is what you are fighting for Shrazz.”

  “Land?”

  “No.” Satan laughed. “Peace, prosperity. You and your kind will finally have a chance to till the Earth as humans do. God is sending his angel to save himself...”

  Satan closed his eyes and seemed lost in thought. He opened them seconds later, and Shrazz saw tears in his eyes.

  “You... miss Him don’t you?”

  Satan wiped his eyes and smiled: the saddest smile Shrazz had ever seen.

  “He is my Father, Shrazz. Of course I do. Seizing the angel will kill him. Of that I have no doubt. I will mourn His passing, but we must look at this as an opportunity. His time has passed. This is only an example of the worlds we will create for our people once the Faithstream is yours.”

  “You can hear what I’m thinking anyway, so I’m just going to be honest.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be in a universe of peace. It’s one of complacence. What kind of sacrifices would we have to make to be completely peaceful? Freedom would have to be sacrificed. It would have to be enforced by a dictator. That would not be me.”

  Satan put his arm around Shrazz’s shoulder. Shrazz truly felt awed by Satan’s nature and yet comforted by him. Empathy and open mindedness were not traits he had expected to find inside the supreme ruler of the Hells.

  “As I said, this is only an example. The rules would be ours to create, Shrazz, and I want nothing to do with a universe of mindless complacence. I know my roots well and I do not want that for any living being.”

  “Even if freedom was not sacrificed, peace would bore me to death. I was not made for such a universe,” Shrazz said.

  “Worry not. By the time we meet again and the angel is here in Hell with me, you will be ready to retire. Peace is going to come only through more bloodshed at this point. It will be the most arduous war you have ever fought.”

  Shrazz’s heart palpitated.

  “What of the humans?”

  “Some of them will resist what is coming. Some will not. Many will die. I want them to be a part of our world, but that will be their decision.”

  “I do not see how they will tolerate us.”

  “We will worry of such things when we have to. You should be on your way,” Satan said.

  “Thank you, sir.” Shrazz bowed.

  “Insure that his capture is hasty, Shrazz. As I have said, angels are unstable and unpredictable creatures when thrust amongst things they do not understand. If he were to have an episode before he reaches me... it will be catastrophic. You will not be able to control him.”

  “He is that powerful?”

  “Not even I know the extent of his destructive potential.”

  Shrazz’s skin glowed red hot, and he laughed.

  “I cannot wait.”

  “Has Riell contacted you?”

  “She is meeting with me tonight.”

  Satan closed his eyes.

  “She will be there soon. If she accepts send her as a scout to dive head first in your stead. You are not ready for the angel yet, but you will be.”

  Shrazz raged inside.

  “I will follow your wisdom. Riell will make first contact. But what makes you think she...”

  “If you think me wise, trust me. She will aid you in ways you cannot foresee.”

  Shrazz regained his composure.

  “Of course. Riell and I will have him here soon.”

  Satan nodded and smiled, but Shrazz swore he could see pity in his eyes.

  “I will watch from afar. If you maintain your patience a representative will seek you out and increase your power to a level more suitable for this confrontation.”

  Shrazz sighed and bowed.

  “When we meet again, you will be the cornerstone of our new order. Until then.”

  Satan’s body disintegrated into ash and smoke.

  Darkness stretched across the sky, blotted out the sun and left Shrazz blind and cold. A gust of warm wind propelled him upward at such a high velocity that he thought he would vomit. The darkness lifted, and he stood in his apartment.

  He sat down at the table and relaxed.

  Minutes later, he heard a series of knocks, an offbeat tempo like someone falling down a flight of stairs: an official entry request from a member of The Falling Curtain.

  “Yeah, I’m here,” he said to the knocker.

  A door of light appeared and the curvy silhouette of a skia could be seen against it before the door vanished. Shrazz could see her clearly in the darkness. His black eyes smoldered like dying coals as he looked upon her.

  “Riell.” Shrazz nodded his head at her. “Does it feel good to be back in your element? Armor always looked good on you.”

  He marveled at Satan’s impeccable planning.

  Riell let her long black hair down from its bun. She saw Shrazz’s mouth quirk and knew he had caressed her with his eyes.

  “I just came to tell you that I determined the angel’s entry point and have made contact,” Riell said, through tightened lips. “I’ll be taking care of it.”

  Shrazz could tell by her voice that she had not appreciated his roaming eyes. She wore well-polished emerald colored armor, trimmed in gold and a black leather skirt. Despite Riell’s obvious irritation, Shrazz tried to envision the full figured athletic body beneath it. On her left side a sheath that matched her armor contained a short sword of corrupted celestinite.

  Riell’s translucent wings were folded across her body. They looked like a black veil over her armor. If Shrazz were a normal human they would have been imperceptible.

  “An impressive deduction. How did you discern that without being briefed?”

  “It’s me, Shrazz.”

  “True. True. Your advance will be credited to your TFC account in 24 hours. Need back-up?”

  “Going out there with a throng of unruly half-breeds would draw a little attention don’t you think?” Riell asked.

  “Unruly?”

  “You more than anyone should know that our federation’s local branch isn’t training their students as well as they used to.”

  “I was referring to the galactic branch,” Shrazz said.

  “Galactic? You have that kind of authority?”

  “The title of Exous Elite was recently given to me by the Duo themselves.”

  Riell muttered under her breath and bit her bottom lip.

>   “What was that?” Shrazz asked.

  “Congratulations.” She walked closer to the table. Light shone through her wings, and their colors filled the dark momentarily. “How did you pull it off?”

  “After I bested Verill in combat, they stripped his rank and gave it to me. You remember that freak don’t you? They had to teleport him directly to the infirmary. I wonder if he’s still alive. No one’s heard anything from him.”

  “Yeah I remember him,” she said. “Speaking of the animal, one of his skia threatened me a few nights ago.”

  She looked at the table to see if it was clean enough to sit on. The remains of Shrazz’s meal dissuaded her.

  “Really. His skia?” Shrazz said.

  “Apparently he has formed his own coalition.”

  “Interesting." He chuckled. “Should we be worried?”

  “I’m not sure yet. But if he knows about the angel others may as well.”

  “I’ll go ahead and contact the Galactic Headquarters for reinforcements. We may need them.”

  “You know damn well I can take care of this myself,” Riell snapped.

  “I merely wanted you to do reconnaissance. You do not need to engage him alone.”

  “Already done. Now that I have assessed him, I will engage him.”

  “And what have you assessed?”

  “He is immune to enchantment, and earthly weapons. But I remain confident.”

  “I’ll leave it to you then,” Shrazz agreed. “Bring him to me alive.”

  “The Duo wants it alive? This is the first bounty job I have taken in years,” she said. “And you want me to bring him back alive?”

  “Alive.” Shrazz restated the orders. “Riell, that shouldn’t be an issue regardless of the handicap. Maybe you should have kept up with your conditioning and taken a few smaller jobs instead of going off to, well wherever you go.”

  “I took a trip overseas to visit some old friends,” she said. “But that is none of your business.”

  “Friends? You have no friends. Some old flame maybe? I know you can’t stay single long.”

  She ignored Shrazz’s jealously and tried to imagine England’s coast and ocean on her toes but could only see the endless sea of filth on Shrazz’s floor.