Status: Time Travel. Demons. Beelzebub himself. All after me, George Carter. It never rains it pours.
The Time Travel memoirs: Lost And So Alone
Chapter 65: War Plans
George Carter was an inconvenience.
Inconvenience wasn’t quite the right word, nightmare works better.
I had seen him gather his army from the strong points of the universe, Blackbeard and the Spartans, this human was a pain. Father was afraid, that was good, I needed him to be scared to be off guard. When Carter and his army arrive in hell I shall not be there, I will not be taking part in the bloodiest battle hell will have seen. I will be arranging bloodshed elsewhere, unlike now; I was practically my father’s slave. Little did he know, I had planned his demise, if the human failed, which I assume he will, and then I have a much cleverer trick up my sleeve.
My pièce de résistance, the cherry on the cake, the most impressive scheme, I hadn’t quite thought of one yet, but there was still time. That was the reason my father didn’t think I would make leader of hell, even though it was inevitable. He didn’t think that I thought my actions through as well as he did. Who cares? I will be Beelzebub when he perishes, that much is obvious.
I walked down the hard stone floor of the throne room, the place was gloomy. There stood a long stone table in the middle of the room, my father stood at the end of the table, sweat was gleaming on his maroon skin, and he had a hysterical look in his eyes. He was wearing a cloak that I recognised as the war cloak. Every Beelzebub in history has to go into battle wearing the long black cloak, it was a sign of respect to the slain enemy, when the demon king kills you, and he mourns you by wearing the respectful colours. Or so I’m told anyway.
“Xvatier, boy, haven’t I told you to pick up your arms and armour?” My father would usually give me a harsh beating with a long metal whip; he didn’t seem to be too bothered about administering his usual harsh punishment. “Father, I don’t think I’ll take part in the battle.” His eyebrows rose to his horns. “Xvatier, every demon must do his duty, for the underworld, you will get your fowl claws on a weapon and you will cut open the flesh of the humans.” I laughed, it was a rich, patronising laugh, reserved for this moment, when my father was weak. “It’s a losing battle father, you will die fighting this battle, the resistance is too strong and if you don’t die, you will lose many valuable demon allies and you will be shunned as the Beelzebub and perhaps forced off the throne.”
Beelzebub rose from what was on the table; I noted it to be a battle plan. He walked over to the corner of the room and picked up the royal war sword. The sword in question was made with a mixture of magma and titanium. I had never seen such a sharp blade in my life, it was kept polished and sharp, for such an occasion. The handle of the sword was encrusted with the teeth of past Beelzebub’s; they were melted into the very core of the handle. As my father approached me with the war sword, I turned and ran. “Get back her Xvatier; I’m going to take off your head, as I did your mother.”
I ran through the hall with father very close behind me, real fear shone in my purple eyes. I jumped over a chair or two and threw glass and other random and harmful things back at my father, who clumsily batted them away. “Get back here boy, I shall personally make sure you will never be my heir, after the war, I shall impregnate another demoness and have another child, a boy who shall respect his fath...” He was abruptly cut off as the clock of the tower which stood opposite the prison in which we lived. It was time, my father had to contact George Carter, and he was going to offer him a chance to surrender or a duel.
It was obvious that my father would win the duel; he had many thousands of years duelling experience. My father had fought in many wars against angels who were sent to annihilate him. Of course, he had slain them all. My father wasn’t a young demon anymore and it was very rare that a Beelzebub should survive as long as him. Therefore he had gained respect from the demons that populated hell. The duel would give my father a chance to gain retribution, he very much wanted George Carter’s head on a silver platter, he considered Carter a coward, but from what I had seen, he wasn’t, my father had turned into more of a coward in his old age.
I sneaked back through the hall my father had chased me from and began to listen to the conversation he was having with the human. “Of course there is always option number two, Carter, you may duel me.” I could see Carter as a hologram, projected into the bowels of hell. He had that cocky smirk on his face; it made me want to rip his head from his shoulders. “Beelzebub, you’re losing your touch, I had a feeling you were going to say that.” My father snarled and threw the contents of the table onto the floor. “Don’t dare question me, Carter, I can have you down here and into a cell before you can say help.”
George Carter grinned, “I see. Yes, I’ll duel you, one on one, my blade against yours and all that jazz, sounds great, bring the kids.” I swear, when Carter smiled, he seemed to look right in my direction. He must know about me now, I had left the note in John Storm’s diary.
“I shall look forward to wiping you from the face of the universe Carter.” Beelzebub smiled, his pointed teeth looked menacing. Carter simply shrugged his shoulders. “I may even rip out your throat with my own teeth.” Carter held up his hand, “not unless your teeth are your sword.” Lloyd Stark came into the hologram, “Also, with respect, if you do, I shall happily make you a eunuch.” Carter and Stark laughed, I was surprised to find myself laughing too, so I straightened my face and stalked in the opposite direction. Father was going to duel Carter, therefore, I needed a plan to kill him myself. George Carter was a powerful man, he had come a long way, a hundred years of being my father’s enemy doesn’t seem much to a demon, but for a human, it is a world record.
I went to my chamber and for the last time, obeyed an order from my father. I put on a heavy metal chest piece and some chainmail for my legs. I had won the chainmail from a human I murdered hundreds of years ago. My father didn’t think much of it, but I thought it fine stuff. I slotted my heavy platinum sword into its sheath and turned to face my angry father. He was smiling like a madman; he held the war sword in his hands. “Xvatier, you little bastard, don’t you think I know you are scheming against me? I know you want me dead, I was the same with my father, that’s why it’s probably best if I murder you now, nice and slowly.
I thrust my platinum sword into my father’s knee, he screamed. Just because one is immortal doesn’t mean you can’t feel a little pain. I ran past my father, blocking his blind swipe and opened a portal to the world above.
Inconvenience wasn’t quite the right word, nightmare works better.
I had seen him gather his army from the strong points of the universe, Blackbeard and the Spartans, this human was a pain. Father was afraid, that was good, I needed him to be scared to be off guard. When Carter and his army arrive in hell I shall not be there, I will not be taking part in the bloodiest battle hell will have seen. I will be arranging bloodshed elsewhere, unlike now; I was practically my father’s slave. Little did he know, I had planned his demise, if the human failed, which I assume he will, and then I have a much cleverer trick up my sleeve.
My pièce de résistance, the cherry on the cake, the most impressive scheme, I hadn’t quite thought of one yet, but there was still time. That was the reason my father didn’t think I would make leader of hell, even though it was inevitable. He didn’t think that I thought my actions through as well as he did. Who cares? I will be Beelzebub when he perishes, that much is obvious.
I walked down the hard stone floor of the throne room, the place was gloomy. There stood a long stone table in the middle of the room, my father stood at the end of the table, sweat was gleaming on his maroon skin, and he had a hysterical look in his eyes. He was wearing a cloak that I recognised as the war cloak. Every Beelzebub in history has to go into battle wearing the long black cloak, it was a sign of respect to the slain enemy, when the demon king kills you, and he mourns you by wearing the respectful colours. Or so I’m told anyway.
“Xvatier, boy, haven’t I told you to pick up your arms and armour?” My father would usually give me a harsh beating with a long metal whip; he didn’t seem to be too bothered about administering his usual harsh punishment. “Father, I don’t think I’ll take part in the battle.” His eyebrows rose to his horns. “Xvatier, every demon must do his duty, for the underworld, you will get your fowl claws on a weapon and you will cut open the flesh of the humans.” I laughed, it was a rich, patronising laugh, reserved for this moment, when my father was weak. “It’s a losing battle father, you will die fighting this battle, the resistance is too strong and if you don’t die, you will lose many valuable demon allies and you will be shunned as the Beelzebub and perhaps forced off the throne.”
Beelzebub rose from what was on the table; I noted it to be a battle plan. He walked over to the corner of the room and picked up the royal war sword. The sword in question was made with a mixture of magma and titanium. I had never seen such a sharp blade in my life, it was kept polished and sharp, for such an occasion. The handle of the sword was encrusted with the teeth of past Beelzebub’s; they were melted into the very core of the handle. As my father approached me with the war sword, I turned and ran. “Get back her Xvatier; I’m going to take off your head, as I did your mother.”
I ran through the hall with father very close behind me, real fear shone in my purple eyes. I jumped over a chair or two and threw glass and other random and harmful things back at my father, who clumsily batted them away. “Get back here boy, I shall personally make sure you will never be my heir, after the war, I shall impregnate another demoness and have another child, a boy who shall respect his fath...” He was abruptly cut off as the clock of the tower which stood opposite the prison in which we lived. It was time, my father had to contact George Carter, and he was going to offer him a chance to surrender or a duel.
It was obvious that my father would win the duel; he had many thousands of years duelling experience. My father had fought in many wars against angels who were sent to annihilate him. Of course, he had slain them all. My father wasn’t a young demon anymore and it was very rare that a Beelzebub should survive as long as him. Therefore he had gained respect from the demons that populated hell. The duel would give my father a chance to gain retribution, he very much wanted George Carter’s head on a silver platter, he considered Carter a coward, but from what I had seen, he wasn’t, my father had turned into more of a coward in his old age.
I sneaked back through the hall my father had chased me from and began to listen to the conversation he was having with the human. “Of course there is always option number two, Carter, you may duel me.” I could see Carter as a hologram, projected into the bowels of hell. He had that cocky smirk on his face; it made me want to rip his head from his shoulders. “Beelzebub, you’re losing your touch, I had a feeling you were going to say that.” My father snarled and threw the contents of the table onto the floor. “Don’t dare question me, Carter, I can have you down here and into a cell before you can say help.”
George Carter grinned, “I see. Yes, I’ll duel you, one on one, my blade against yours and all that jazz, sounds great, bring the kids.” I swear, when Carter smiled, he seemed to look right in my direction. He must know about me now, I had left the note in John Storm’s diary.
“I shall look forward to wiping you from the face of the universe Carter.” Beelzebub smiled, his pointed teeth looked menacing. Carter simply shrugged his shoulders. “I may even rip out your throat with my own teeth.” Carter held up his hand, “not unless your teeth are your sword.” Lloyd Stark came into the hologram, “Also, with respect, if you do, I shall happily make you a eunuch.” Carter and Stark laughed, I was surprised to find myself laughing too, so I straightened my face and stalked in the opposite direction. Father was going to duel Carter, therefore, I needed a plan to kill him myself. George Carter was a powerful man, he had come a long way, a hundred years of being my father’s enemy doesn’t seem much to a demon, but for a human, it is a world record.
I went to my chamber and for the last time, obeyed an order from my father. I put on a heavy metal chest piece and some chainmail for my legs. I had won the chainmail from a human I murdered hundreds of years ago. My father didn’t think much of it, but I thought it fine stuff. I slotted my heavy platinum sword into its sheath and turned to face my angry father. He was smiling like a madman; he held the war sword in his hands. “Xvatier, you little bastard, don’t you think I know you are scheming against me? I know you want me dead, I was the same with my father, that’s why it’s probably best if I murder you now, nice and slowly.
I thrust my platinum sword into my father’s knee, he screamed. Just because one is immortal doesn’t mean you can’t feel a little pain. I ran past my father, blocking his blind swipe and opened a portal to the world above.
♠ ♠ ♠
Thanls for reading, i find it interesting using the demons perspective, comment and Ill write more soon!