Heaven and Hell

Gikabrik appeared behind Serena. She had just enough time to turn when the hammer was brought down. On instinct Serena raised her right arm to block the incoming blow. The hammer impacted with her arm. The impish demon grinned fiendishly. However, Serena did not even feel the blow. She had instinctively gathered her chi to protect herself. She deflected the hammer to the side and brought her left hand down upon the startled demon, striking him right in between his horns. The force of the strike drove the demon straight into the ground, face first. Serena kicked Gikabrik hard in the side, sending him flying across the street. He landed with a grunt.

She cast a glance toward an open jawed Kaseem and flashed him a smile. He returned the smile and let out a booming laugh.

“You certainly are full of surprises, Serena,” he commented.

“I’ve been trained very well,” she replied, thinking back to the endless hours she had spent sparring with Li Yung.

“Uh oh, looks like we’ve got trouble,” Kaseem said, pointing in the direction of Gikabrik. The demon was slowly getting to his feet, his face contorted in rage and pain.

“You stupid human!” he growled. “Y-you will pay for this!” He lifted his hammer and vanished again. He appeared above Serena, hammer above his head, about to smash her. Serena whirled around quickly, weapons at the ready and fired rapidly. Gikabrik vanished at the last second. When he reappeared, it was evident that one of the shots had grazed his shoulder.

“I thought you were faster than that, Gikabrik,” Serena mocked. Gikabrik snarled in rage as he began to vanish and reappear rapidly, making it look like there were at least a dozen of him at once. Serena was having difficulty keeping up with him.

“Not so cocky now are you, human?” Gikabrik taunted. He began cackling madly. Serena made no move to strike him. She knew it would be a waste of energy to shoot aimlessly. Instead she closed her eyes and emptied her mind, focussing on her opponent’s chi.

Before he had left, Li Yung taught her to sense when her opponent will strike while she was blindfolded. She had several sparring sessions with him while blinded. She wasn’t quite a master, but she had been adept enough to detect most of the young monk’s attacks. She only hoped that she could apply it here.

“How do you expect to hit me with your eyes closed there girlie?” the demon mocked. “Are you giving up? I guess this means you want me to kill you!” The demon finally decided to strike at her, aiming right for her head. Serena could see him in her mind’s eye. When she saw him raising his hammer for the killing blow, she turned, her eyes opened, and she fired four consecutive shots. Two hit each of the little demon’s hands, causing him to drop his weapon. One hit his left horn, effectively breaking a chunk off. The last shot hit him in the abdomen, right below the rib cage. All this happened in the span of a few seconds. The demon was on the ground, screaming in pain. His scream was cut short by a spurt of blood coming out of his mouth.

“You bitch!” Gikabrik gurgled as he continued to spit up blood.

“Not my fault you’re predictable,” Serena sneered. She loomed over him, weapons pointed directly at his head. Kaseem made his way over, holding his scimitar in a defensive position. He knew there was little the demon could do, but he was still cautious, never taking his eyes off him.

“You certainly do have a lot of fire in you. Let’s hope I don’t end up on your bad side,” he said to Serena, smiling slightly. She didn’t return the smile. She was focussed on her defeated enemy.

“You made short work of him. Let’s kill him and regroup with the others.” Kaseem suggested.

“I want to ask him some questions first,” Serena replied.

“I will tell you nothing human,” the demon spat.

“Oh I think you will. I think you’ve expended too much of your energy in that last attack, Gikabrik, seeing as you haven’t vanished yet.” she noted. The venomous glare she received was answer enough.

“Now then, who sent you? Who is your master?” she asked.

“My Master is the one who will have your pretty little head removed from your pretty little body. That is, after he is finished with your one eyed friend,” Gikabrik answered, smiling broadly. Serena and Kaseem exchanged worried glances.

“What do you mean by that imp?” Serena demanded. The demon smiled, showing his pointed teeth.

“He is fighting your one eyed friend as we speak. Even now, I can see them fighting, and he is not winning. Soon, he will die!” He began to cackle. Serena seized Gikabrik by the throat and brought him to eye level.

“Where are they?” she demanded.

“Kill me if you want to, you will never get to them in time,” Gikabrik strained to say. The annoying smile never left his lips. Serena tightened her grip around the demon’s throat, so much so that his eyes began to bulge. His breath was coming out in wheezing gasps. It smelled foul, like a sewer. He tried to struggle but it was useless. Serena glared into the demon’s eyes as she slowly strangled him, her anger pulsing. Then she felt a hand placed on her shoulder. She turned to see Kaseem, shaking his head.

“Allow me to take over,” he said. Serena dropped the demon, and he fell hard on his backside. He began gasping for air, but did not get much of a respite. A few seconds after landing, Kaseem slammed his foot onto the demon’s chest. Once the demon was pinned, he brought his scimitar close to Gikabrik’s face.

“Now listen here you wretch, you are going to tell us who your master is and you’re going to take us to him.” Kaseem said in a low voice. “And if you refuse...” Kaseem slid the blade slowly across the demon’s face, making a small cut on his cheek.

“I’m going to cut you up. Nice and slow.” Kaseem threatened, carefully enunciating the last sentence. Gikabrik’s eyes widened in horror.

“Y-you w-w-wouldn’t! Y-you’re not s-supposed to do t-things like that!” he spluttered. His eyes were fixed on the grim expression on Kaseem’s face. Serena was taken aback by the threat too, but she remained silent.

“I’m too old to play your little mind games, imp. I like to get straight to the point.” Kaseem put a special emphasis on the last word as he dug into the demon’s cheek with the point of his blade.
“Alright I’ll talk! I’ll talk!” Gikabrik blurted out in a panic. Kaseem pulled his blade away from the demon’s face, but still kept him pinned down.

“Speak imp!” Kaseem demanded.

“My Master is the one controls the Demonic Whip. I am bound to serve him forevermore.” Gikabrik began. “He is a human calling himself Diego.”

Serena’s eye widened at the name. She became puzzled on how a human could control a demon. She wondered if it had anything to do with the Demonic Whip. She cast a glance at Kaseem, who simply stared dumbfounded. He began to tremble.

“That explains everything,” he whispered, though it seemed more to himself than to Serena. He grabbed Serena by the arm, his eyes wide and full of panic. For a moment, she was afraid he was going to attack her, until he spoke.

“We must find the others, now.” His grip tightened on Serena’s arm. She winced slightly.
“Why? What is it?” she asked.

“That whip is one of the most dangerous weapons ever created. It allows its user to put demons under his control by striking them with the whip. Once they have been struck they are under his command until either they die, or the wielder does.” Kaseem explained. “Furthermore, if the wielder is powerful enough, he may use the whip to bind a Greater Demon to himself. Very few of them exist outside of Hell. If a Greater Demon is summoned, there’s no telling what will happen.”

“But don’t Greater Demon’s need virgin sacrifices?” Serena asked.

“Not all of them. Each one demands something different. Some demand virgins, some blood, others demand potions or spells, and so on.” Kaseem replied. He released his grip on her arm and began to pace nervously. Serena waited, dreading the answer to the question that was forming in her mind. Finally, Kaseem answered her unspoken question.

“The worst part about the Demonic Whip is that it corrupts its user, mind, body and soul. It will slowly drive its wielder mad. And the more demons he has under his control, the more powerful he can become. The whip fuels the wielder with demonic energy, or chi as you have probably come to call it. That’s what drives the user mad. Humans are not meant to use demon energy. It’s unnatural. Eventually, the wielder will become something not quite human...” Kaseem’s voice trailed off. Serena stared in horror as she imagined what the older man was implying.

Cackling broke Serena’s train of thought. She turned to see that Gikabrik had managed to get back to his feet, now that Kaseem no longer pinned him down. His hammer in one hand, his other clutching his side. He was shaky, however. It took all his strength to just stand there.

They had both forgotten about the demon during their realization about the whip. The two raised their weapons. Serena silently cursing herself for being careless. The demon’s pointed ears twitched slightly.

“That’s right human. And now, I must leave you. My Master calls to me. Bye-bye.” And with a quick wave, he vanished before either Serena or Kaseem could do anything.

“Looks like he was just stalling for time until he gathered up enough energy to teleport,” Kaseem growled through clenched teeth. Suddenly, the Flying Feral that had been circling high above them began to descend. An explosion was heard, coming from deeper within the city. The demon was heading straight for where the explosion had come from.

“Quickly, we must get to the others before it is too late!” Kaseem exclaimed. He beckoned Serena to follow, and the two ran off towards the explosion. Serena was silently praying that George was alright.

****
Father Stephens unleashed the power he had been gathering, hoping to end the fight swiftly. He channelled the power through his twin blades, similar what Ahmed had done only moments earlier, but with much greater power.

The blades that the members of the Warrior’s Caste used had been blessed by the individual who wielded it. So the effects of the blades were each different depending on the blessing. In Father Stephens’s case, he had blessed his blades to become repositories for his power, as well as to have great defensive and offensive capabilities. As a result, he could store vast amounts of his power into them and release them at will. They always had chi within them, even while not in use. During his meditations and training, he would constantly change the flow of energy between the blades and himself.

His fighting style was also unique. Most of the Warrior’s Caste chose to wield one blade, whereas Father Stephens chose two. He had blessed the blade in his left hand with defensive blessings. The one in his right offensive. Not to say that he couldn’t switch up his tactics, but he preferred to use the blades with their blessed style, to maximize his efficiency.

Before the dust could clear, there was a loud screech from the Flying Feral above him. Diego had summoned the beast to attack him. It swooped down upon him; its razor sharp talons outstretched. The priest avoided the beast with a quick roll.

However, he rolled right into a smaller demon wearing a loin cloth and wielding a large hammer. Stephens quickly noted the wound on his side and broken horn and surmised that he had come across Serena and Kaseem. He didn’t have time to worry about their fates as the demon swung his hammer. Stephens ducked and delivered a swift kick to the imp like demon’s injured side, sending him falling to the ground below.

Adrenaline was pumping through his veins. It had been quite sometime since he had last fought in a life or death situation. He had forgotten how exhilarating it was to be on the front lines. Though, he did notice that he was just a hair slower than he had once been. I must be getting old, he thought to himself.

The Flying Feral came around for another pass. This time however, Diego sat atop the demon, cackling. It swooped down upon Father Stephens, who back flipped out of the way, but landed precariously on the ledge of the roof.

Diego, spotting his vulnerability, lashed out with the whip. It struck Father Stephens in the face, not only causing a painful welt, but knocked the priest further off balance. As he fell, he twisted his body and gathered chi into his legs as he landed, to soften the impact. It was only a two story drop, so the priest was unaffected when he landed. He watched as the Flying Feral circled high above, almost as if taunting him.

Nearby movement caught the priest’s eye. He swiftly dropped into a fighting stance and was about to strike, when he noticed it was George moving towards him.

“Need a hand?” he asked. Stephens noticed the he was gripping his weapons rather tightly. His expression was the most serious he had ever seen. It was rather strange to not see the large man with his customary half smile.

“I can handle Diego and his pets alone,” he replied.

“You don’t know how many of those things he has,” George argued. “Come on, we can take him together!” Those words reminded Father Stephens of the last time he and Diego had fought together. Of how arrogant and impulsive he had been when he had refused his help.

“Alright, George, if you want to help, you can,” he relented. George nodded, and turned his attention to the demon circling high above.

“Got any bright ideas, Father?” he asked. Before Stephens could reply, the demon he had kicked off the roof appeared, swinging his hammer. Both men managed to evade the unexpected attack. The injured demon was moving much too slow to catch them. The demon swung at George, who parried the blow with his blade.

Before Father Stephens could lend a hand, the Flying Feral dove down, aimed directly at Father Stephens. He leapt to the side as the demon pulled out of the dive last minute and tried to snatch him in its talons. However, Diego had been anticipating Father Stephens’s move and managed to wrap the whip around his ankle. He urged the demon skyward. He climbed high into the air, with Father Stephens dangling helplessly along behind. He could hear Diego laughing maniacally.

“I hope you’re not afraid of heights, Darren!” he cackled. “Don’t look now, but it’s a long way down!” Stephens knew he was in trouble. He couldn’t cut himself loose, he wouldn’t be able to survive a fall from this altitude. Killing the Flying Feral wasn’t much help either. Sure the two of them would go down, but the priest didn’t plan on dying today. He growled in frustration. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, pounding loudly in his ears.

If I can’t go down then I might as well go up, Father Stephens thought. He tried to grab the whip, but it was taking a lot more effort than he thought. The Flying Feral banked sharply to the left, causing him to miss. He tried again and the beast broke into a swift dive, dragging Stephens along for the ride. It was now flying low enough for Stephens to be potentially hit by the buildings.

His arm banged into the side of a rooftop. Then another. The priest grunted in pain each time. He knew that the next blow wasn’t going to be a graze. He noticed he was headed straight for one on the larger buildings, and if he hit it, he knew he was going to end up little more than a smear. With one final, desperate act, he attempted to grab the whip attached to his right ankle. This time, he managed to grab it, and just in time too. Just as he had grabbed it, the whip had released its hold on his ankle. He was now right side up, though he was dizzy as the blood rushed towards the rest of his body.

As he neared the wall, the priest let go of the whip. As he fell, he gathered his chi into his weapons. He slashed his blades towards the ground, releasing the chi. He was able to slow his impact just enough so that he would survive the landing. He landed on the ground in a roll. When he finally stopped rolling, he checked his body. Miraculously, nothing was broken, although he was bruised all over.

He realized he was much further away from where the fight had originally begun. Diego had managed to isolate him from George. This area was much more open and Stephens noticed that they were now on the edge of the city. He silently cursed himself for allowing that to happen. He could only hope that George was fairing better than he was.

The Flying Feral let out another of its ear piercing screeches. Naturally, Father Stephens used his chi to protect himself from the worst of the effects. He still found it irritating, however. The demon landed a few feet away. Diego slid off its back and patted the beast’s neck.

“You really are difficult to get rid of, you know that,” he remarked casually. Father Stephens merely shrugged.

“So I’ve been told.”

“I think I like it better this way, don’t you? Here we can fight alone, undisturbed.” Diego cracked his whip, and the Flying Feral took to the sky once more. Stephens could see the whip more clearly now. Fear gripped at him, but he did his best not to show it.

“So, you stole the Demonic Whip from the Vault,” it was a statement, not a question.
“That’s right, Darren. I stole it. And I plan to kill you with it,” he cracked the whip a few times to demonstrate his prowess. It was more to intimidate, but Stephens wasn’t intimidated, at least not by the display of skill Diego showed. No, what he feared was the power the whip had. And he had a sinking feeling that he was about to witness more than just demons being used as tools.

“But first, my old friend, I’m going to have some fun with you,” Diego pulled out his dark blade from inside his robes.

When did he retrieve that? Father Stephens wondered silently. Diego smirked at the expression of confusion on the priest’s face.

“Looks like I’m faster than you remember,” he said.

“Maybe.” Father Stephens dropped into a fighting stance. He gathered his chi, but did not attack. He knew Diego had something up his sleeve and he wasn’t about to make the first move without knowing what he was up against. Diego twirled the dark blade in his left hand, still smirking arrogantly.

“You don’t know how long I have waited for this moment, Darren,” he said. “I have dreamt of facing you again for so very long. It has been all I can think about all these years. And now, finally, my patience has paid off. And here we stand.”

“I always knew you’d come back someday, Diego, though I had hoped it would be you returning to the Order. It’s not too late you know. We don’t have to do this!” Stephens implored.
“It’s too late for that, Darren!” Diego snapped. “Besides, I have come to far to be denied my vengeance! I have done too much to be redeemed, nor do I seek it!”

“Your pathetic little Order of the Holy Light is finished! Eventually, even the light must surrender to the oncoming darkness.” And with that, Diego lashed out with the whip, nearly catching Father Stephens off guard. He managed to avoid the lash by twisting out of its range at the last second.

Diego was prepared, and he had tossed the dark blade at him, controlling its movements with his powers. The blade slashed at Stephens furiously, it was all the priest could do to keep up with it. He managed to parry the onslaught of attacks, but they were faster than he had ever seen them before. Diego started lashing out with the whip as well, trying to trip Stephens up, but he managed to avoid both weapons.

Time to go onto the offensive, the priest thought. He released the power he had been gathering in a wave of energy. The wave sent the blade flying to the ground. Diego buffeted by the unexpected manoeuvre and was attempting to hold his ground. Stephens didn’t give him the chance, he rushed Diego and began his own offensive attack.

Diego managed to recall his weapon to his hand just in time to meet his attacks. The priest attacked furiously, not letting up for a moment. He wanted to bring this to a quick end. Diego was managing to keep up with the flurry of attacks. In fact, he seemed to be managing too easily.
Diego’s smirk never faded from his face. Stephens could see the mad glint in his eyes. His opponent’s arrogance was disconcerting. It was almost as if everything was going as planned for him. He had to finish it now, before he could implement whatever he had planned for him.

He continued his relentless assault, all the while gathering his chi into his blades. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t find an opening. That was when Diego caught Stephens’s blade and held it there with his own. The priest attempted to slash with his free hand, but Diego twisted out of his reach. There was now some distance between the two, so now he began to use his whip again, forcing Stephens back onto the defensive.

Stephens grunted and panted as exhaustion began to sink in. He wasn’t used to fighting anymore, and he wasn’t as young as he used to be. Age was subtle, and slowly it had begun to effect the priest physically. He wasn’t as active as he used to be. As a young man he spent most of his days fighting. As he grew older however, he fought less and less. Diego was just as old as he was, but if he was feeling weary at all, he gave no sign of it. He didn’t even seem to be breathing hard at all.

Although physically he was beginning to ware down, mentally Stephens was sharper than most. His wisdom had grown over the years, his intellect as sharp as ever. He had much experience in battle, in war. He wasn’t about to be defeated so easily.

He raised his left arm up to defend himself against the whip’s attack. It wrapped around his wrist, like he knew it would. He grabbed a hold of it and held it in place. Before Diego could react, Stephens released the energy he had been storing in his right blade, sent the blast at Diego. The blow had hit its target dead on! He felt the whip go limp as Diego’s grip loosened. Stephens let the whip unwrap itself from his wrist and fall to the ground.

Just when he thought it was all over, Diego was back on his feet. His clothes were more tattered and covered with sand. Blood stained his clothes, but it didn’t seem to have much effect on him. His smirk, however, was gone, replaced with a look of pure loathing.

“That. Hurt.” Diego said in a low voice, emphasising the words. Stephens had never head such hatred coming from his friend.

How the years have changed you, he thought to himself. He shook his head, returning his focus back to the present.

Diego inhaled deeply and Stephens could sense that he was gathering his own chi. He noticed that it felt different somehow, but he couldn’t quite place it. The whip was back in his hand. He began to move it in an intricate motion, his energy rising all the while.

“And now Darren, I will show you my true power!” Father Stephens felt fear grip his chest.

“No. No you wouldn’t!” he exclaimed suddenly. Diego did not answer him. Stephens knew of the whip’s power. His fears were confirmed when the whip began to glow a pale blue. Diego began to cackle yet again, his voice sounded ethereal.

Father Stephens wasn’t about to let Diego finish what he was doing. He gathered his chi and quickly and sent some blasts at him. The whip blocked the blasts easily. He noticed it was now forming an impenetrable shield around Diego. There was now nothing he could do to stop the transformation.

No,Diego. Why would you do this to yourself? He thought as he stared in horror, helplessly at his old friend.

Diego’s eyes began to turn yellow. He started to grow tufts of shaggy brown fur. Horns began to grow on his head, claws forming on his hands. His teeth became razor sharp. His muscles bulged, and he began to grow in height.

Finally it was complete. The cackling had ceased, as did the cracking of the whip. It had turned back to its original black colour. There, standing before Father Stephens was the creature that had once been his friend. Standing at six feet, panting and drooling was the human/demon hybrid of Diego Garcia. He let out a deafening howl that sent a shiver up Father Stephens’s spine. He prayed silently for the strength and resolve to do what was needed. He also prayed for the soul of his long time friend, who now seemed to be lost to him forever.