The Many Faces of Evil

"Ow. Dammit. Ow. Dammit. Ow. Dammit. Ow. Dammit. Ow. Dammit. Ow."

"Shut up and hold still!"

"Ow. Dammit. Ow. Dammit. Ow."

The doctor took a step back from me, his hand still on the last bandage on my healing body.

"Are you going to cooperate?" he asked, looking at me sternly.

"I'm not a big fan of pain," I replied, rubbing my tender skin.

The doctor answered by ripping off the last bandage with a wrathful flick of the wrist. I winced and bent over, wracked with a sudden burning on my abdomen. I tried my best not to scream, but did let out a groan.

"You're free to go," he announced, gathering up the cloth and handing it to a nurse. "Would you like a souvenir?"

"What, you gonna give me a black eye, next?" I scoffed, donning my trousers and tunic. "I'd rather that gelatinous lamb meat again." I slapped on my robe and walked out of the building, looking down Mount Purgatory.

My mission began now.

Since I would not be able to enter Hell by any conventional means of transportation, I dove off the cliff and into the water that surrounded the mountain. Everyone was much to busy repenting to notice someone jumping, and I was able to swim to shore without suspicion.

Swimming was also not the greatest idea I ever had, as my burns stung as I worked my way through the water. God, the stupid things I did to go unnoticed...

The fact that it was a considerably long swim did not help my situation, either, but I made it across to Hell and dried off on a brimstone beach. Okay, so now I go and find Urebor and his cronies and kill them where they stood. First, how would I get close to them? I would obviously have to get close to them, first, but if getting close to Satan was hard enough, trying to get acquainted with his enemies wasn't going to be much easier.

***

"The cowards have fled," Urebor chuckled, feeling the gold of Satan's throne. "I thought they would have stood and fight to prove their power. Pity. I would have enjoyed crushing the Prince of Darkness' head with my foot."

Etasiel stood at his friend's side, looking blankly into the middle distance. He didn't really care about much other than the action of a revolution, and there was a surprisingly low amount of that.

Urebor reclined in the velvet-cushioned chair, smiling sickly.

"Do you think they will come back for their chairs?" Etasiel asked, lusting for blood.

"They will send Daniel," Urebor answered, staring at the ceiling. "It is a typical strategy: send out your best men to settle the fight. No unnecessary deaths, just one man victorious over the other. It's a shame we didn't agree to those rules. Slay the angel on sight."

"I will take pleasure in that," Etasiel murmured, feeling his curved knife in its sheath.

"We shall fill what Baal envisioned," Urebor exclaimed, losing his subordinate to boredom once again. "This time, though, no one can stop us. If Satan wanted a place for sinners to live in sin, perhaps he could have turned to his people once in a while. But now the proletarians are the nobles, and the nobles are lunch meat. Good day, brother, and may you stain the ground black with Daniel's blood."

Etasiel nodded and left his brother to his thoughts.

***

It seemed my wrist-blade invention was a lot better than I had ever dreamed. With just a flick of the wrist, I could walk up to an unsuspecting guard and stab him in the kidney. The kidneys, after all, was a very sensitive pair of organs, causing so much pain when stabbed, that a person can't scream. This was called a stealth kill. Once they were on the ground, you slit their throats to finish them off. Does explaining this to you seem a little creepy? I mean, the whole killing up close and personal thing probably is, but... just thought you should know.

"Daniel, is that you?" came a familiar voice.

"Gremory?" I asked, caught off guard, flicking out my hidden blade. "What the fuck? Doesn't anyone tell you things anymore? I'm kind of a wanted person."

"Oh," Gremory said, stepping out of the shadows. "Well, I'm not in all that great of a situation. Etasiel took away my twenty-six legions of demon soldiers, then stuck me on the street. But, shit happens."

"Tell me about it," I sighed. "And who's Etasiel, anyways?"

"Urebor's right-hand man," Gremory replied. "Mean son of a bitch, not the kind you wanna mess with."

"Can you tell me how to get up close to those guys?" I asked, flicking my wrist-blade back into its sheath.

"Well, I started running a hay carrying service," the demon replied. "Huh, what a coincidence. Well, you can hop in the back of my cart and I can ride you into their court while you hide in the back. Do you mind intense itchiness?"

I considered my burns for a moment, but decided that this was probably the best way in. The things I had to endure for cowards like Satan.

"Nah, I can handle this," I replied.

"Good," Gremory stated. "My cart's just around the corner."

***

Saint Michael signed the last form on his desk and put it in his "finished" pile, then sat back and relaxed for a moment. He considered the bottle of scotch on the table in the corner, but decided against it for now. The Archangel packed up his briefcase and walked out into the cubicles, waving goodbye to his coworkers.

"You sure you don't want that scotch?"

Michael turned at that sickening voice. Beelzebub stood, in his humanoid form, in the parking lot, leading a group of other similar freaks.

"What are you doing here?" the angel asked.

"Didn't you hear?" Satan scoffed, stepping forward. "There's a fucking revolution down in Hell, and we got the short end of the stick."

"A revolution after that--" Michael exclaimed, searching for words. "--that-- that foul-up you caused?"

"It seems that the proletarian demons thought that their leaders were driving them to a, uh, false paradise, as it were," Asmodeus pointed out.

"We were the symbols of power and authority," Mammon added. "I guess they didn't like the way we ruled."

It was disconcerting to see a demon, even in human form, and even more disturbing that they were here to ask help from angels, whom they defied those short years ago. But, if he didn't welcome them in his home, Michael would have to fill out another month's worth of forms, so he went for the lesser of two evils.

"I'll find a place to hide you," the saint sighed.

***

"Whatcha carrying, brother?" the guard demon asked, walking up to Gremory's hay cart.

"Just hay for the horses of the court," the cart-driving duke replied. "Er, brotherhood. Yes. Just hay."

"I'm gonna have to check your cargo," the guard stated, walking behind the wagon.

I felt him poking about the hay, parting some of it to see if he was carrying anything in. After a minute or two of sitting and waiting for the pain of being discovered, the guard jumped off.

The demon turned to his fellow soldiers and exclaimed, "Burn it."

"Oh, fuck me," I growled, jumping out of the cargo and tackling a surprised guard, stabbing him in the kidney, then drew my sword and turned to engage the other two.

"You're Daniel, aren't you?" one of them pointed out. "Kill 'im!"

A quick lunge dispatched the noisy bastard and a slash across the shocked second's throat took down the other. Then, I got back into the cart, signaled for Gremory to continue the operation, and covered myself with hay.

***

"Hello, gorgeous," Asmodeus exclaimed as Lillian opened the door. He was met with a swift kick to the crotch.

"Who are they?" the female angel asked, furious at her husband. "What are they doing here?"

"These are the Seven Princes of Hell," Michael replied, ushering them into the house, then dragging in the slumped form of Asmodeus. "It's a long story. Keep Beryl in her room."

***

The cart came to a stop once again, and I heard Gremory get out. I cleared the hay off of myself with much cursing and cringing and joined him at the entrance to the palace.

"This is as far as I can take you," the demon said. "Good fucking luck."

With that, he hopped back on and rode off, leaving me to contemplate my next move. The guards hadn't noticed me yet, but I could try climbing up the wall... hm, no hand- or foot-holds. Looks like I was going to enter the old-fashioned way.

I drew my sword and lunged at the four demons standing at attention in front of the gate. One I beheaded, the other nearly lost an arm to the other swing and was finished off with a second hack to the torso. The other two charged at me, swords upraised in that stupid rush of bravery. I skewered the third and swung him by my sword into the last, knocking him off balance. To finish him off while incapacitated, I kicked him in the gut and plunged my sword through his throat. There... that was easy.

***

"What's that commotion?" Etasiel asked his fellow warriors as they walked through the palace lobby. He looked about to see a rather slim figure in a black robe walking through the gate with a bloodied sword in his hand.

"Is that the angel, brother?" a sergeant asked.

"Destroy him," Etasiel replied, nodding.

The ten soldiers rushed over to my position. I noticed just in time and was able to whip five throwing knives at targets, killing two and wounding the other three. Next, I engaged one with my sword. He was rather careless and allowed me to whip his sword away before going in for a lunge. I turned to face another demon behind me who expected to kill me without me knowing. He took a swing under the right armpit, disturbing a group of nerve endings, then a second hack to the same area which plunged deeper into his torso, killing him.

At this point I grew tired of toying with the poor guys by using swordplay, so I just blew them away with a quick spell. A thick bolt of energy emerged from my palm and vaporized the remaining six demons.

Etasiel stood at the other end of the courtyard, looking at me in amazement. Nonetheless, he had orders, and drew his sword and approached me.

"Did you not just see me fuck up your ten guys?" I yelled at the new challenger. "Who are you, anyways."

"My name is Etasiel," the brute growled, pulling his second sword off his back. "And I was born to make pretty-boys like you suffer."

"Two swords?" I groaned. "Now that's just plain not fair."