Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time

Almost immediately, Brendon demands the company of more black eyed demons. The last one present is soon enough snatched by the slate colored demon and absorbed into his bloodstream. At least Patrick thinks that's how it works. Soon enough, there's six more black eyed demons entering the room. All seem to be immediately awestruck; drooling, swooning, and gawking at Brendon. Patrick rolls his eyes.

"Very good." Brendon beams at the infatuated crowd. Four of the demons walk up to Brendon. He doesn't hesitate before bringing two up at a time and injecting his nails into their backs. The slate colored demon's head falls back; eyes shut. His veins are pulsing more than before; the dark vessels prominent even from a distance.

"Do you think we'll have enough extra demons to satisfy him?" Tyler asks Patrick.

"I don't know, but if he gets hungry, he must get full. At least that's what I'm placing my bets on." Patrick says almost lazily. He wants it to be this simple. Brendon feeds and gets over it for a period of time. He needs to feed again and there may be another influx of black eyed demons and it'll seem like an extra order to things. A smooth ongoing system. Nothing complex. He reminds himself that this is just what he hopes for... and usually hope is nonexistent.

Before they both head back to Tyler's office, they hear a very obnoxious clear of the throat. Oh, what the fuck does he want now? Patrick thinks.

They turn around to see Brendon surrounded only by piles of dust. Tyler's mouth falls agape. They only turned their backs for a couple seconds before having a fairly short conversation.

"I definitely feel a lot stronger now. I feel a flame of growing power resonating within me." He looks to Patrick, "Humor me, what can us yellow eyed demons do?"

"Well, my king, we can shape and manipulate a good majority of elements. Telekinesis. We can also change the way lower level demons think. That can loosely be considered mind control."

"Teach me." Brendon says with a smirk.

"Well," Patrick starts, "you basically channel that flame. Like meditation, but instead of having your mind blank, you have a strict focus from your core and outwards to your palms. You have to visualize what you want to do."

"Give me a few examples, Trick."

Patrick takes a breath. He usually restrains from using any powers because most of the time he finds it unnecessary. He closes his eyes to try and focus. He exhales slowly once more before turning to a lengthy rock structure and flicking his right wrist outwards. The middle of the structure crumbles and the top falls.

"Damn, that's pretty fuckin' cool!" Brendon exclaims. He stands up from his chair and walks over by Patrick.

The yellow eyed demon notices Brendon's focus on a lengthy granite candle holder. He watches as the slate colored demon raises his hand up fairly quickly. He leans his head to the side and slowly swishes a single finger at the flame. The small flicker now burning tall and bright. One extra flick of the wrist and the whole structure falls to pieces.

He laughs, "I could get used to this!"

After Patrick shows him a couple more abilities in the most standard and simple of executions (in fear Brendon may do something too intense), he excuses himself to Tyler's office.

There's a deep sense of panic and a general bad feeling in his gut. Just teaching Brendon how to use his powers made him worry a little too much of what he could do with them. Even the simple ones. He keeps thinking about those engravings. Those wings. Every little detail of someone he used to call a good friend when they were alive.

"Tyler, I think we need to figure out what Brendon is." Patrick says bluntly.

Tyler nods, "Yeah, we do. But what section of the library do we look through?"

Patrick looks around, making sure no one is close enough to hear them, "Follow my lead."

"Yes, sir." Tyler finishes, and with that, they head to the library.

The shelves go on for miles and miles. Anything ranging from mechanics to witchcraft. From how to cook to the real history of the damned. Patrick and Tyler walk briskly through the rows of skyscraper shelves all the way back to the restricted section. Tyler always wondered what was kept back here, but he never dared ask.

There's a door with a warning to anyone wanting to go through to the back: Immediate execution. Because the demons there know the rules fairly well, they never venture back there. The guard that used to monitor the halls closest to this section has since changed duties by the order of Patrick. It became fairly unnecessary because not even Patrick bothered to go back there. This set an even clearer example that what was kept should never be important enough for the rest of eternity. He still has to keep up that image. Any suspicion that the (previous) ruler of hell was looking through ancient forbidden books would cause major problems.

Patrick's hands grace across the walls surrounding the door until he feels a loose piece. He peels it back and inside is a small hole with a key. He takes it and opens the lock as gingerly as he can. He takes a step back and uses his powers to open the door slowly so it doesn't make a sound.

Tyler is awestruck. Never in eternity would he even imagine bearing witness to ancient books that are completely forbidden. Patrick begins to walk in, and Tyler quickly follows.

"Check and make sure no one is coming down this hallway."

"Oh, oh course!" Tyler says. He stands outside the door and proceeds to check the following surroundings. Even stepping in for one second caused him to feel a great deal of excitement.

Patrick skims through books as fast as he can. He comes across a loose brittle paper with symbols drawn on them. They're the exact same ones engraved on Brendon's skin. Nervousness and oncoming dread fills his gut as he looks at the book the page had to have come from. It reads, The Chosen Dark King: Prophesy of the Apocalypse. This is the shit he banished Daniel Cloud Campos for preaching. He always assumed it was some stupid piece of false forthcoming. Propaganda for rebel demons who thirst for the destruction of mankind is something that just can't happen. The natural order of Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory should never be disrupted.

"Tyler... come here." Patrick says.

Tyler is quick on his feet, heading back inside, "Yes, sir?"

"Brendon, I know how he died."

Tyler stands next to Patrick and looks at the page he has open. It says:

This dark chosen king, also known as the man who died of a broken heart, will present himself with extended multicolored wings and engravings said to be carved by Satan. His skin will be a dusty silver...

"Wait..." Tyler starts, "You said this wasn't real, that this couldn't happen."

"I was wrong. These descriptions are accurate to Brendon. He's the man who died of a broken heart. He is meant to lead a group of demons to war against humanity." Patrick shuts the book and faces Tyler.

"This is a lot worse than I expected." Patrick says with an even stronger sense of panic, "But we have a bigger priority now: Make sure he never finds out about Cloud and make sure he doesn't try to leave."

"But what will we do when he does try to leave? What if he kills us? What if he turns all the demons against us? What if-"

Patrick places his hands roughly on Tyler's shoulders, "We have to take things one goddamn step at a time. We will inform and maybe skew the truth to other red eyed demons. We will find a way to do something. I swear, we won't let him destroy the fucking world."