Tribulation (6 page)

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Authors: Philip W Simpson

Tags: #teen, #religion, #rapture, #samael, #samurai, #tribulation, #adventure, #action, #hell, #angels

BOOK: Tribulation
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Sam watched
them, intrigued. Other than his brother and father, these creatures
were the closest thing to kin he’d ever seen. It almost made him
want to jump out and introduce himself. This fleeting thought
lasted only long enough for Sam to feel a little disgusted with
himself. He remembered then the humans they were herding and the
looks of dismay on their faces.

He couldn’t do
anything here. He was outnumbered and he’d been in this position
before. He simply couldn’t save every human he met in Hell. It was
impossible. He just had to remember that he was here for a reason:
to find Grace and possibly his mother. Even though it pained him,
that was all he could possibly do. To try and do more would be
disastrous.

Sam was about
to breathe a sigh of relief as the two royal demons passed but
then, abruptly, the male one stopped. The female followed suit.
They were less than ten feet from Sam’s position. They started
talking, low-pitched noises that Sam strained to hear. At first, he
couldn’t understand them but then the words gradually unraveled
themselves.

They were
conversing in Hellspeak, the language of Hell that Sam understood
instinctively. It was, after all, hard-wired into his DNA. As
befitted its origin, the language was harsh sounding, guttural and
clipped, but Sam found himself warming to it as he listened, almost
as if he’d been reunited with an old friend.

“… I too, have
better things to do than go chasing after rumors,” the male demon
was saying.

“My sources
tell me that this isn’t just a rumor,” replied the female.

The male demon
laughed; the sound made Sam wince. “Your sources? You mean that
mentally- challenged serpent of yours? How can you possibly trust
anything that says?”

“Because I do,”
she snapped. “Besides, it emerged on a disused portal. Last time
that was used was eight hundred Earth years ago. Coincidence, I
don’t think.”

The male demon
snorted derisively. “Even if you’re right, whatever it is will be
long gone. I fail to see the point of this trip. I haven’t got time
to spare for this. I’ve got to get these humans down to the
pits.”

“You’ll do what
you’re commanded to do,” said the female demon. Her voice was
flat.

Moving ever so
slightly so that he could peer out of the alcove with one eye, Sam
simply had to watch what happened next. The male demon’s hand was
edging slightly towards his sword hilt.

“I wouldn’t if
I were you,” said the female calmly. The male demon’s hand froze.
“The Lightbringer himself ordered me to investigate this
personally,” she continued. “And to recruit whoever I saw fit to
help. That means you. Consider this also; whatever or whoever this
intruder is, our senses will reveal its true nature before long. It
cannot hide from us. Now, I suggest that if you want to keep
breathing that you do exactly what I ask.”

The male demon
did not respond. He didn’t move either. Instead, he stood facing
the other demon. Sam could sense his hatred and rage.

“The longer we
delay here, the further away our quarry will get,” said the female.
“I suggest we make haste.” She extended an open hand along the
corridor. “After you.”

With every
indication of poor grace, the other demon moved off, muttering
darkly under his breath.

Relieved, Sam
finally exhaled but remained motionless, synthesizing what he’d
just heard. They knew of his presence. The fire serpent, though not
very intelligent if the demons were to be believed, had alerted one
of its masters that the strange, disused portal had disgorged an
unusual visitor to Hell. It also appeared that his father was
taking a personal interest. That could potentially complicate
matters. Sam would have to be doubly on his guard now.

He waited a bit
longer, just to be sure. Only when both his demonic and normal
senses told him he was alone did he leave the small alcove, setting
off once more along the tunnel. The tunnel was starting to angle
upwards which gave Sam a little hope. He needed to get out of these
tunnels and back in Hell proper. It was there he would find what he
needed. Hopefully. The fact that he was now moving upwards meant
that the exit couldn’t be too far away. He must’ve traveled miles
by now. Surely he was no longer underneath the sea of fire?

Sam’s guess
wasn’t far wrong. The tunnel continued to angle upwards. It widened
and then suddenly he was at an exit. He approached it cautiously,
unsure what he would find.

He emerged on a
rocky plateau of a scale almost too big to grasp. Were there any
limits to this place? In this distance, perhaps five miles away,
was a range of mountains. The summits soared into the empty air,
almost scraping the ceiling of Hell. Molten lava spewed from the
tops, dribbling fiery death down their slopes. Sam nodded in
satisfaction. He’d got lucky. These hellish mountains were exactly
the sort of habitat he sought.

Above him,
winged demons circled on the warm updrafts. In the distance he
could see other demons on the ground – some herding groups of
despondent humans, others engaged in tasks unclear to Sam. Getting
across the plateau would not be easy. He just hoped his glamor
would stay in place long enough to get him through. If he was
discovered in the open like this, it would be curtains for him.
There was nowhere to run.

Keeping away
from any demons as much as possible, he made his way towards the
nearest mountain. He kept moving, eating up the ground with long,
swift strides. The shadow of the nearest mountain fell over him and
hope surged. Running now, he reached the base without further
incident. It was dotted with entrances. He considered his options -
not that he really had any – and picked one at random. The tunnel,
much like the one underground, was deserted. It angled sharply
upwards in only one direction. Perfect.

 

 

He wasn’t sure
how long he’d been climbing but it must have been several hours
since he’d emerged from the tunnel onto the actual flank of the
mountain itself. Coarse steps had been cut into the rock face, much
too large for him, but he persevered, avoiding any trails of lava
as he climbed. Now he was nearing the summit, a wall of rock rising
in front of him. A path had been cut through it which he followed,
leading him to a stunning vista. The main mountain crater was below
him, spewing lava in fiery gouts. Several smaller craters were
clustered nearby, and it was in their direction that he headed.

The path down
was hectic and jumbled, with solidified lava forms obscuring the
path almost at every turn. Eventually, he reached the bottom and
scanned the area carefully. A few humanoid demons were clustered
around the main crater, seemingly heedless of the lava, and a few
of the remote craters were attended by smaller groups of demons.
One crater caught his eye. It was isolated and unattended - clearly
not a popular choice for other demons. He walked towards it, trying
to look natural, and reached the side of it without incident.

From the pocket
of his jeans, he pulled out the statuette Samyaza had given
him.

Now, about to
throw the statuette into the crater, he hesitated. Was this truly
his only option - to employ the services of a demon in order to
find Grace and hopefully his mother? Was this the only way? The
statuette trembled slightly in his hand as if replying. Sam sighed.
Once again, he really had no option. It was this or consign Grace
to Hell for ever.

He threw the
statuette as hard as he could into the center of the crater. With
the tiniest of splashes, it disappeared into the depths of the
lava.

For a moment,
nothing happened. Then the lava began to boil like it was alive.
Sam glanced around nervously. As luck would have it, several of the
other craters had started to boil at the same time so the activity
at his one was not attracting any unwarranted attention.

The lava boiled
for several minutes. Then, without warning, it stopped. That was
it. It didn’t gradually subside, it just stopped. Sam waited. And
waited. Nothing happened. He looked over at the other craters. He
could just make out a few juvenile Hellhounds emerging. Fights
amongst the demon Princes and Princesses had already begun, each
seeking to present before the Hellhound, hoping to win their
service.

Despair filled
him. Clearly he was not worthy – not powerful enough to attract a
Hellhound. Because of his weakness, he would fail. Without a
Hellhound to assist him, Sam had no chance to find anyone – no
chance at all.

He was about to
turn around and give up when the lava around the edge of his crater
stirred. Sam held his breath. Bringing back thoughts of the fire
serpent, a massive head emerged, followed by the rest of the
dog-like body. Sam had seen Hellhounds before. He’d even fought and
defeated one - but this one was different. For one thing, it was
smaller. It stalked up to where Sam stood motionless, its eyes
level with his. The other Hellhounds he’d seen were eight foot or
more at the shoulder. This was a juvenile. It was different in
other ways, too. Its jaws were heavier, more massive and the claws
on its feet looked like shards of obsidian. Its coat suddenly
ignited into flame, shooting molten sparks over and around Sam.
Despite the fact that his clothes were beginning to smolder, he
didn’t move. From experience, he knew that he was essentially
impervious to the fire generated by this creature. More to the
point, he knew that this was some form of test. If he displayed
weakness here, the Hellhound would overlook him for a more powerful
master.

Sam stood his
ground and met the eye of the creature. For what must have been
minutes but felt much longer, the Hellhound’s fiery gaze burned
into his dark irises. Instinctively, Sam knew what to do. He opened
his mind to the creature, giving it access to his memories. He had
no idea how the Hellhound would react, but he had to try. Perhaps
the demon would find some worthy deed in Sam’s past, but he doubted
it. What would some evil creature like a demon find worthy in Sam?
But then again, this demon had only just been born. Were demons
born evil or were they a product of their upbringing and
environment? He’d soon find out.

He felt the
Hellhound sift through his memories, concentrating – oddly – on
random memories that Sam felt would have little significance to a
demon. His moments with Aimi. Lessons learnt from Hikari. Meals
shared. Then the demon’s attention shifted to more martial
memories. Of him fighting other demons. Protecting humans. Making
sacrifices. Finally Sam felt something pass between them.

Yeth.

What? He hadn’t
spoken, and he was pretty sure the Hellhound hadn’t either.

Yeth.

The word came
again, a deep sibilant voice in his head. A moment of realization
struck. The Hellhound was telling him his name - and names meant
power amongst demons. The Hellhound’s name was Yeth.

He stared at
Yeth for a moment longer. For a fraction of a second, the
Hellhound’s gaze wavered. It looked away for a moment and in that
moment, lowered its head ever so slightly. It was hardly noticeable
but Sam knew it for what it was. Obeisance. The Hellhound was
giving him its servitude, had considered him worthy after all.

He rocked back
on his heels, for some reason more pleased with this outcome than
he’d thought he would be. Samael, he said, using his mind and not
his words. He wasn’t sure whether this would work or not, but he’d
have to learn to communicate with his Hellhound at some point. Why
not now?

He watched Yeth
carefully. A tiny flick of its head seemed to indicate Sam that
he’d been heard but he couldn’t really be sure. Conscious that the
longer he stayed here, the more likely they would receive some
unwanted attention, Sam produced a small piece of material from his
back pocket. It was a strip of cloth that he’d torn from his jacket
months earlier - a piece of cloth that he’d used to bind one of
Grace’s wounds last time they were in Hell. He’d found it back in
the Cash and Carry after the battle in L.A. after Grace had
disappeared. Some instinct had forced him to grab it and stuff it
into his pocket, even though at the time hadn’t made sense. It did
now though.

He held it out
to Yeth and pictured Grace in his mind. It wasn’t hard; he
remembered her clearly and wasn’t likely to forget. It wasn’t like
he had a lot of friends.

Sparks from the
Hellhound’s snout caused the rag to smolder. Sam pulled it away
hastily, but not before the great beast had had a chance to sniff
it. It looked at Sam, eyes blazing. Without pausing to see if Sam
followed or not, it raced off, trailing molten fire, heading for a
nearby cave entrance. Sam took off after it, hope filling his heart
with more elation than he’d felt for months, if not years. The
first part of his task was complete. And that was the easy part.
Now for the second.

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