Sequel: The Angel of Death

Eyes of the Devil

Truth

Frank could do nothing but stare. His lips moved back and forth as if trying to form words, but no sound emanated from them. He sat back on the ground and stared at Gerard with eyes so wide that the whites were visible.

“…W-what…you…” He murmured to himself. He closed his eyes and shook his head vigorously, hoping to clear the image from his mind. He had no such luck, as Gerard was still lying on one side before him, not speaking or moving at all. In fact, with just that one eye open, he almost looked-

Frank didn’t even dare to think the word.

“…uh…” He hesitantly crawled over to Gerard, wondering if he was hurt. Gerard couldn’t move or speak at all; the only thing he felt was a burning sensation on the back of his shoulders. He let out a slight whimper of pain.

Frank finally stood and tried to help him up, but had trouble supporting his weight. He slung one of Gerard’s cold arms across his shoulders and slowly made his way up the sidewalk to his house, mumbling to himself the whole way.

He was lucky he had left the door open upon leaving his house just a few moments earlier; he had just happened to glance out the window and see a giant ebony bird standing out against the gray sky, flapping its wings furiously as a man squirmed and struggled in its grasp. As it had come closer, he realized he recognized its human face- and that of its prisoner. He had locked eyes with the creature and watched as it froze mid-flight and dropped the man directly on top of him. He could hardly believe any of what had just happened, but at the moment his main focus was to get Gerard somewhere safe, preferably somewhere he wouldn’t be recognized.

Frank pushed the door open with his knee and walked inside, closing it behind him with one foot. The cold fog began to leave his body, a mere trace of the chilling winter weather just opposite the door. He slowly shuffled over to the couch and laid his friend across it, still unable to believe what was going on. It seemed impossible. It was impossible.

A rush of cold air behind him forced a shudder to ripple throughout his body, so he took another glance back at the door just to make sure he had closed it completely. He wondered if he had left a window open earlier or something, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Except for the practically lifeless friend adorning his couch like a decoration, he was alone.

“Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer…”

Frank blinked and caught his breath at the sound of the words. They sounded barely above a whisper, and he couldn’t tell where they were coming from.

“‘Sir,’ said I, ‘or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping…’”

“Who’s there?” he asked abruptly. Yet his empty words echoed off of the blank walls with no true response.

“‘And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, that I scarce was sure I heard you.’ Here I opened wide the door-”

Frank suddenly found himself staring into a pair of brilliant blue eyes half-framed by golden strands of hair, and he immediately went silent.

“Darkness there, and nothing more.” The man’s voice was deep and smooth, and he spoke quietly. Frank took a few steps backward.

“Who are you and how the hell did you get in my house?” he asked accusingly.

“You shouldn’t mention that around him,” the man replied, his eyes darting towards Gerard’s now-sleeping form. “Could influence his decision.”

“What are you talking about?!”

The man shook his head in response.

“Later. First we must get the poison out of his system.” The man hurriedly stepped over to Gerard, motioning for Frank to follow, which he did hesitantly. “Hold him still.”

“Uh…okay…” Frank stood at one edge of the couch and placed his hands on Gerard’s shoulders, firmly anchoring him in place. He wasn’t sure he could fully trust the man, but it seemed like he wanted to help Gerard above anything, and that was equally high on Frank’s list of priorities. He couldn’t be too bad.

The man placed one hand in the middle of Gerard’s chest, suppressing his slow, even breathing for a few moments. A shock of white light burst from his hand and spread throughout Gerard’s body with the look of a spider web, causing his eyes to fly open abruptly. He jerked and nearly jolted out of Frank’s grasp, so Frank tightened his grip on his friend’s shoulders, now able to feel bone beneath his fingertips. Gerard stared up at him with an expression of terror and confusion, but said nothing.

His face suddenly became contorted with excruciating pain, and he tried to break away from them once again, but Frank refused to let him go, afraid he would get hurt. The blond-haired man fanned his fingers out, sending a shockwave of silver-gray light through Gerard’s body. This time he screamed.

“You’re hurting him!” Frank cried, almost letting go of his friend’s shoulders completely. The man said nothing in response, this time sending a wave of jet-black energy through Gerard and appearing to fill his porcelain skin with tiny ink-colored cracks. Gerard yelled in agony and curled up into a ball, desperately trying to find a way to escape the torture.

And suddenly, it all came to a halt. His skin tone returned to normal, and his breathing slowed as he lapsed back into unconsciousness. Frank hesitantly removed his hands from his friend’s shoulders, then breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“What did you do to him?” he asked in a quiet tone. The man simply looked down at Gerard with half-closed eyes, seeming a little tired from what he had just done.

“‘Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; ’Tis the wind and nothing more.’”

“What are you talking about?” Frank asked sternly, repeating his earlier question. Still he received no answer, or at least not one he was looking for.

“We just need to let him sleep now,” the man answered. “If all goes well, he won’t even remember that this happened.” He turned to walk away, but Frank gripped his shoulder with one hand before he could do so.

“Tell me who you are and what’s going on,” he said firmly, “or I’m not letting you leave.” To his surprise the man let out a lighthearted laugh, then turned to face him with an understanding smile.

“I am what you would call a drifter,” he answered. “I easily travel the space between Heaven and Hell, between the Two, between forms…even between life and death if I choose.”

“That’s impossible,” Frank replied bluntly. “You can’t go back and forth between life and death whenever you want.”

“And why not?” the man asked. “Are there not two examples of that in this very room?” Frank went silent at this. The man caught sight of something in Gerard’s loosely clenched fist and gently drew it from between his limp fingers. It was a silky black feather; the man held it between two of his own thin fingers and slowly twirled it back and forth, his luminous blue eyes narrowing in thought.

“Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, by the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,” he said slowly, his words taking on a dark tone as he recited them and raised the feather to eye level to see it better. “‘Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,’ I said, ‘art sure no craven. Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore-”

“Can’t you say anything without jumping into poetry?” Frank asked flatly, crossing his arms. The man never took his eyes off of the feather.

“Tell me what thy lordly name is on the night’s Plutonian shore.”

“Okay! I get it! Some giant bird came and dropped my dead friend out of the sky and he plowed me into the ground! Could you please tell me what’s going on before I go crazy?!” Frank shouted at him. He sighed.

“That was no bird, Frank. That was a messenger of the Devil…one you know quite well, actually.”

“What do you mean?” he asked with a frown.

“Don’t be stupid,” the man answered plainly. “You saw his face. You know.”

“No, I don’t,” Frank replied with a deep-set scowl. “I have no idea what’s going on here. I don’t know why Gerard is here, or who you are, or anything. I don’t know!” He walked away from the man, heading towards the front door, but he stopped about halfway.

“Go see for yourself if you don’t believe me,” the man said with a shrug. “I will look after him while you’re gone.” He glanced at Gerard, who remained still even as the man’s powerful gaze fell upon him.

He watched as Frank practically stormed out of the house in a fit of rage, though he could sense the man’s underlying fear at what he might – or might not – find. Sitting on top of the coffee table and folding his legs beneath him, he rested his elbows on his knees and his chin atop his hands, looking at Gerard almost as if he was bored. He already knew what was going to happen before the long hour had passed, before he finally heard Frank’s fast, panicked footsteps sounding on the concrete walkway, even before the younger man burst through the door and made what he considered to be a startling announcement.

“He’s g- …You’re sitting on my coffee table,” he said with a quizzical look that completely contradicted the rest of the emotions on his mind. The blond-haired man couldn’t help but laugh, though he quickly resumed a more serious attitude and stood up.

“I’m afraid your friend is gone because he’s made his choice.”

“What choice?” Frank asked, shaking the fog from his mind as he remembered why he had even left in the first place.

“To work for the Devil, of course,” the man answered nonchalantly. “There wasn’t much he could do to escape it, though… I find it a bit unfair myself. But, alas, I have no say in the matter.”

“What?!” Frank exclaimed. “Ray would never-”

“Nn…”

He was interrupted by the sounds of a finally stirring Gerard, still caught in the sluggish state between sleep and consciousness. His eyes opened groggily, but he didn’t even try to sit up.

“That reminds me. Why is he here? I thought he was dead.” Frank tried to sound forceful with his words, but he ended up lowering his voice as he continued speaking. Whether he believed any of this or not, he didn’t want to make Gerard feel worse than he already did.

“He is dead,” the man responded with no reservation in his tone. Gerard still seemed too dazed to respond, if he could even comprehend what they were saying. “It all starts with him.”

“What starts?! What’s happening?! I want to know what’s going on right now!” Frank realized how heavily he was breathing and the fact that one eye was twitching, but he couldn’t seem to calm himself down. The other man sighed, then drew a thin vial from one pocket, halfway filled with black liquid that turned silver when it splashed against the glass.

“Once he’s more awake, shake this up and give it to him. It will dispel the rest of the poison from that blasted raven…”

“What is it?” Frank asked in a flat tone.

“Centaur blood,” the man replied, handing him the tiny bottle. “Deadly poison on its own, but a useful antivenin against demon toxin. Stole it from the Devil’s assistant himself.” Frank just looked at him like he was insane and nearly dropped it, but managed to keep it dangling between a cluster of fingers. Before he could muster some kind of response, Gerard spoke.

“Why can he see me?”

Both Frank and the blond man glanced at him. He was limply pointing at Frank, resting his arm against the side of the couch for support. His eyes were half-open and looked raw, and he spoke like he was drunk.

“He has a destiny to fulfill as well, Gerard,” the man said with a laugh. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“…Wha?”

“I’m not even going to try and understand at this point,” Frank said with an exasperated sigh, holding his hands up in a motion of defense. “Just…tell me who you are and I’ll stop asking questions.”

“Never stop asking questions, Frank,” he said softly, placing a hand on Frank’s shoulder for a short moment before walking away from him.

“Wait!” Gerard called after him, now trying to sit up in spite of a dizzying headache. The man obediently stopped. “Where’s Ray? Is he here? Can I see him?” Frank looked back and forth between Gerard and the man, having the same pitiful, longing look in his eyes as Gerard. The blond-haired man cracked a sinister smile before speaking one last line and vanishing into nothing.

“Quoth the raven…‘Nevermore.’”