Faust Issue Four: A Demon’s Return,a Wizard Reborn

His vision was blurry and his thoughts were hazy at best. His head was pounding, as if there was a smurf on top of his head hammering like John Henry. He couldn’t remember what had happened…or where he was…

Wait, he did.

He had come to Cali, Turkey, trying to find out why his father Felix Faust had arranged for assassins to kill him. Or so he thought. Once he got there, he found out that Darius, the King of Vampires, had gathered forces to search for the legendary Eternity Book, and that he was somehow a tool for Darius’s plan to retrieve it. The biggest news was that Felix Faust was dead, betrayed by his own partner, Darius.

Faust looked at his surroundings. It seemed to be a grim, desolate, gray prison cell, in which he was chained to a wall. His fingers were individually held in a cement-mold that was fixed to the wall. Beside him was a man similarly bound, with the addition of an iron helmet that kept his mouth shut. It looked painful. Across from him was a chained woman in a cell, wearing a battered, brown abaya that no longer covered most of her body, and was covered in blood.

In time Faust realized that Darius’s meeting room was directly above them, and that he was conferencing with various forces in his crusade for the Eternity Book. From what Faust gathered, there were three other factions that Darius had allied with.

Present there was a booming voice that had a presence of authority and power. No, scratch that. It was more like a bully’s authority, an aggressive tone that comes with getting things done the way you want it. All the time. He was Meslamta-Ea, brother to the Mesopotamian Death God Nergal and representative of their forces.

There were also two female voices. The first was very sensuous, very erotic, and very exotic. She turned out to be Rouge, representative to the succubi forces of Queen Triskelle. The second voice was quite the opposite, very stern and serious. Her name was Avalice and she represented Mary Seward’s Cult of the Blood Red Moon. Something like the Amazon version of vampires.

“What I’d like to know, Darius, is why do you of all people need an ‘Eternity’ book? Are we not all immortal already?” Meslamta-Ea asked. “Seems like you’re just chasing legends.”

“Let’s say I’m a man who doesn’t like to pass up opportunities…Besides, none of us are truly immortal… besides the Endless.”

Rouge, the succubus representative, laughed, and it seemed that her laugh touched everyone in various ways. Shivers ran throughout Faust…but good ones…The bodyguards upstairs began to coo and make groans, until something bludgeoned them. By the sound of it, it was most likely Meslamta-Ea.

“Do you actually believe in those fairy tales? They’re older than you are and never proven. ‘The eternal seven, Delirium, Despair, Desire’…” Rouge began. “Whoever made up the tale couldn’t even find the time to think up names that didn’t start with ‘D’…How did the rhyme go, I forget…”

“I only remember a piece.” Darius began to sing in a sing-song voice befitting a bard more than a king, “Destruction, the kind one who left his post, and Dream, the sternest and fiercest host, and Death—“

“I waste my time here,” Meslamta-Ea began. “You mean to tell me you believe that there are higher powers than us? I am a God, I am—“

“You are nothing but a gargantuan stereotype of muscle mass without any brains,” Darius started. “We have lived so long that we have forgotten the powers above us. We do not feel despair because we get things done the way we want it, when we want it. We do not dream, though often we invade Dream’s realm. And it’s been so long since we’ve remembered the threat of Death’s touch. We are not gods. We can all die. We are only a slightly stronger force than most humans in this game of life. But the very fact that you, Ea, represent the concept of death shows that Death of the Endless is above you. She is the very aspect of death you represent, given form.”

Faust tried to fire a mana burst but something was keeping him from gathering enough energy…not to mention that he was already fatigued. Something caught Faust’s eyes. The woman in the abaya was trembling…or moving…Her eyes were moving in random directions and her hair began to rise around her as if a breeze was gathering beneath her. What was going on?

“So,” Avalice started, “You believe that this book is that famed book of Destiny, the eldest of the Endless?”

“His book, yes; after a fashion. It is in a buried temple in Bursa. But for now, the details will be left alone. I want to know if I can use your forces to obtain my goals.”

There was a moment of silence as the representatives above took time to think.

Faust watched as the woman seemed to go through some kind of magical seizure. It was disturbing, but most of all he could do nothing to help her. A wind gathered around the woman and the room began to get hot. Her eyes started to glow a strange amber glow and then suddenly one concussive wave pushed out in all directions, knocking Faust’s head against the wall behind him.

A weapon had formed in front of the woman. It was a scimitar, if Faust’s study on weapons was correct. It moved as if held by invisible hands and sliced through the chains holding the woman. She fell to the floor, breathing hard and using the scimitar to help support her. She looked up, eyes ablaze and full of hate, and threw the scimitar with all her strength at Faust.

In the split second it took Faust’s mind to race with thoughts, he exploded with a wave of indigo energy, breaking his chains and falling to the floor. When he looked up, the woman was suddenly there, scimitar in her hand, and her mouth grimacing.

“You tried to kill me.” Faust said flatly.

“I did what I had to, to free you. It worked.”

A woman after my own heart.

The ceiling crashed in from above as Meslamta-Ea crashed down. He was gigantic and imposing, with tattoos of skeletons and demon hounds all over his body. A large black mallet was in his hands. Above them, floating, were Rouge, dressed in blue and green clothes, and Avalice, dressed in a red and black suit. A group of soldiers rushed in from their various factions, all brandishing swords or daggers. A mist fell down before them and in moments took form as Darius.

“Quickly, break that man’s iron helmet!” the woman in the abaya yelled.

Faust didn’t hesitate to make the attempt, but suddenly he had eight feet and 500 pounds of angry demigod staring him down. He reached into his pouches to see if he had any tricks left, but he had nothing but his cell phone. Yay. He tried throwing it at Meslamta-Ea, but it came back directly at him. He fell backwards, the cell phone falling into his lap. He looked up to see Avalice smiling, and giving him a wink. Guess they are working together now.

The woman in the abaya was moving with grace and agility as she dodged the soldiers moving in on her. In ten seconds, she felled ten soldiers with her scimitar. Both she and Faust made a leap toward the iron-bound man but were caught in the air, and thrown into the floor as if the gravity was increased ten-fold. Darius walked in-between them slowly, step by step, grinning. “I am impressed. Too bad I can’t risk keeping you around anymore. This little stunt has cost you your lives”

Faust mustered all his strength to make a grab for Darius’s ankle. It felt like an elephant, a hippo, and John Madden were all sitting on top of him. He made the reach—but then nothing was there. Darius reappeared on the other side of the woman, going from mist to solid in moments. “Clever, young Faust, but don’t you think I know about your ‘soul-tapping’ abilities? Do you take me for a fool?”

Faust began to squeeze out a remark until he saw that the woman’s eyes had begun to glow again, and were trembling with power. The scimitar floated quietly and pointed right at Darius. She cursed something in another language and the scimitar flew towards Darius’s back.

Darius turned into a mist at the last minute just before the scimitar went through him. Crap.

“You too, Ms. Tolon? I expected more from you.”

“Darius…” said a voice in fear. It was Avalice. Above them all, she pointed wildly in one direction.“They’ve—they’ve—“

Faust lifted up as much as he could and saw that the scimitar had hit the bound man’s helmet along its main hinges. The metallic mask and gag beneath swung out, tilting on the hinges, and fell off. The man’s voice was coarse and grim, and carried a tone of vengeance. “Yarva. Daemonicus. Etrigan,” he said, full of anger. “Change, change the form of muh–“

“Get moving!” Darius yelled at his men. The heavy push against Faust and the woman lifted as Darius turned to mist and arose into the air.

“--of man…”

The room began to get hotter. Everything seemed to slow down to a snail’s pace.

“Free the prince forever damned…”

Rouge and Avalice levitated higher looking for a way out in the collapsed room above.

“Free the might from fleshy mire. Boil the blood in heart of fire…”

Darius tried picking up the iron gag telekinetically, trying to throw it at the bound man’s mouth.

“Gone, gone the form of man…”

Darius’s vampires were inches from the man, raising their arms to his face.

“Rise the demon—“

Their weapons were mere moments away from cutting into the man’s head.

“Etrigan.”

Fire cut across the room, blazing an outline along the walls and blowing outwards in a rush of searing wind. The men close to the bound man were turned to ashes as his body turned to a horrid mix of red flames, sulfurous clouds and brimstone mists. His body pushed outward, as if something beneath the skin was trying to force its way out.

“Quick, get the metal off! It’s iron! Iron hurts demons; even him!” the woman screamed. The woman slashed off what iron she could and Faust blasted the rest off.

The bound man’s skin became a liquid fire, like lava, as two large, golden arms broke through. Soon the form became a stocky, demonic figure with blazing red eyes. He had batwing-like ears, and two horns on the forehead that became solid once the hellfire began cooling down. The Demon wore a tattered red tunic and red boots. An even more tattered black cloak fell around it, and studded and spiky bands went around each forearm, and each boot. It grinned a demonically sinister, toothy grin as it breathed deep, stretched out and hunched forward. As it breathed, a cloud of steam escaped its mouth and its nostrils.

Everyone stood still.

“Well, it looks like I’ve made my fated return,
To the world of men and vice; reborn.
But this eve be the eve that the Hell begins,
Your souls be damned, I taste your sin!”

“Kill him!” Darius commanded, drifting to the exit in the collapsed room above.

The Demon scratched his chin. “Hmm, it seems your king sends you to die,
Yet you run to meet death and forfeit your lives.
If death is what you desire, you’ve come this far,
Come to me now and receive your reward!”

Smoke gathered at his mouth, and in moments flames were flaring behind his teeth. His face seemed to grow dark and his mouth bright red, and then a line of fire blasted from his mouth and turned all of Darius’s men into walking matchsticks.

A giant mallet swung and caught The Demon in his side. The creature slammed against the wall, but didn’t appear too hurt. Meslamta-Ea stepped through the flames, a deep, guttural laugh bellowing through the room. “And Darius says I’m not a god…”

Faust scrambled and took off his coat, wrapping it around the front of him to block the flames and keep the smoke from his lungs. The woman seemingly appeared out of nowhere beside him. “We need to get out of here. We need to go to Bursa as soon as possible.”

Faust yelled over the chaos of screaming and burning men. “I can only shadow walk when I’m full on mana. I’m almost dry. I doubt I can get any juice from these flaming bloodsuckers.”

“Why not?”

Faust shrugged. “No souls.”

“No problem. All we need to do is help that demon.”

“We’re helping that demon? The one with the hellfire and spikes and Dr. Seuss syndrome?”

“Yes.”

“Good enough for me.”

The two moved at once. The woman ran straight to Meslamta-Ea and brought her fist back. Leaping from the giant’s left knee, to his right thigh, to his right arm and then to the mallet in the left hand, she took her scimitar and quickly sliced across the death god’s face. A line of blood erupted across from Meslamta-Ea’s face as the woman flipped backward and landed in a crouch on the floor. Meslamta-Ea screamed in pain as he was blinded, dropping his heavy weapon and cupping his face in his hands. The mallet crashed with a deafening thud.

Faust came to the Demon, cautious. “Etrigan. We may not know each other, but from what I hear you’re on our side. We have to go, now. “

Etrigan arose, not a bruise on him. He seemed fine, but was pondering something. Finally his beady, burning eyes held onto Faust’s, and he spoke:

“I think, I think, I’ll make my leave of thee;
So Blood may struggle for Eternity.
But before I go, mage, I will confess my hunger;
Your soulless husk makes me want to tear you asunder;

“When this is over and done, expect no deals;
If we meet again you will be my meal.
You are a risk to hold, a risk to take,
And a fine evening dinner you’re sure to make.

“So do what you may to prevent this crisis,
And stay away from those that are lifeless.

“Gone, gone, o Etrigan,
Return once more in form of man!”

Suddenly a cold shiver passed over his spine and the fire in Etrigan’s wake began to die down and pull into the Demon’s body. A fiery cloud gathered around his form and, in moments, a naked man stepped from the black clouds. He was about Faust’s height, but much older, having red hair with a white streak down the middle. He looked around at the situation and immediately yelled “Abeo!”