Illumination

Chapter 4

We followed the beat of Plate's heart until a large metal door placed itself between us.  

"He's just on the other side," I said, "and doesn't seem to have much left in him. His pulse is quite weak." 

Allana sighed, "Well, I can't be of much help in getting the door open. I had to leave all of my explosives on the shuttle because of this damnable dress." 

Damnable indeed. The moisture from the tunnel, combined with our recent running, had caused the dark fabric of Allana's gown to cling to her in all the right places. My mind started to wander and for a brief moment, I considered saying something that would have been both unprofessional and inappropriate for the situation. Instead, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and cleared my mind, telling her that I'd take care of it. 

I aimed my Focus on the door and all of the parts that made up the thing as a whole. Mentally probing around its interior, I stopped where I felt the locking mechanism should be. Holding the image of the lock steady in my mind, I dove deeper, down to the wires and welds that held it together, then onward deeper still, continuing my mental decent until I had reached the interior of the door on the molecular level. Agitating the molecules in the area, I built up an an intense heat in a matter of moments, pushing and colliding them faster and faster. I held my Focus on the steel of the lock even as it began to bubble and hiss, dragging the cluster of heated molecules like a cutting torch through the heavy bolts that secured the door. Once finished, I opened my eyes and cleared my mind. 

"I've melted through the locks." 

Allana checked the silver timepiece fastened to her wrist and for a brief moment a smile seemed to flit across her face. 

"About twelve seconds; you're getting faster." She moved over to the door, pistol in hand before giving me a slight nod. "Ready." 

I mentally grabbed the edge of the door and began balling my Focus into a sphere of energy. I inhaled deep through my nose.  

3...2...1.  

Releasing the held breath, I wrenched open the door in a burst of raw mental energy, the hinges letting out a shriek of protest. Allana moved swiftly through the now open doorway, her eyes scanning the room for any hint of danger. I followed soon after, my own pistol at the ready. 

We had walked into a storage area of some sort, with numerous metal crates stacked about the room. The space was eerily silent, with the only audible noises being the hum of the overhead lights and the gentle breathing of the woman next to me. I began walking slowly around a stack of crates, signaling with my right hand for Allana to move in from the other side. I moved past stacks of various boxes, Confessor in hand, feeling the air in the room change all around me. A deep and biting cold was settling in around me, turning my breath into fog. As I rounded the farthest stack of boxes however, a chill of a different sort coursed up my spine. 

"Saints preserve us," I breathed. 

As if in response, a low, haunting sound echoed through the stillness of the room, its somehow familiar vibrations lingering deep within my chest. After a moment, I realized just why it was I recognized the noise. It sounded remarkably like a laugh. 

Every instinct I had cried out that something was very wrong. Farallon Plate's extravagant red tunic, stitched with a fine silver thread, with a cost roughly equal to a half a year of hard labor mining in the bomb pits of Apollyllon, lay in tatters on the floor. Though it was not the condition of the garment, but rather, the condition of Farallon Plate himself that was most concerning. 

"Praetusss, we have been expecting you." 

The thing that had once been Farallon Plate hung suspended in the air in front of me. In all honesty, if it had not been for my past experiences with the demonic and the gaudy jewelry that the thing still wore, I might not have recognized just what it was that Mr. Plate had become. 

"Is that so, abomination?" 

A chuckle issued from the fiend's razor fanged maw as it spoke, its voice thick with an otherworldly liquid resonance. 

"Of course. The ssorcerer ssummoned uss in order to desstroy you and the one with you. We agreed. He allowed uss in". It smiled a crooked smile, blood slipping between its clenched teeth, the drops falling upward to the ceiling. 

"At which point, rather than help him, you simply possessed him and became the walking blasphemy I now see before me. Correct?" 

The demon had wrought several unholy changes to the body that had once belonged to Farallon Plate, the proclaimed master demon binder. Its body had stretched and swelled, increasing in size and bulk until it was near seven feet in length, over a full head taller than myself, and made up of hard, lean muscle. Once pale flesh was now tinged with purple and crimson and studded with numerous glistening eyes. The demon's arms, twisted and distorted, hung limply at its sides, terminating in clawed hands. Its long tongue, forked and purple, lolled out from a bleeding mouth of needle sharp teeth, lazily swinging back and forth. I was disturbed to find that, apart from its fanged maw and unnatural tongue, the demon's face was an otherwise featureless mask of skin. 

The comm-piece secured in my ear gave a chirp and the familiar deep voice of investigator Solomon Cromwell came through. 

"Specter comes like autumn, blowing with conviction." 

Solomon, ever the cautious one, had relayed the message to me in code. It meant that Specter, also known as Valencia Specter, had received my earlier message and was on her way to my location and, like autumn, was due to arrive soon. She was also "blowing with conviction", which meant that Valencia had my sword, "Conviction" with her, as per my request. 

"May it blow swiftly and not yet be winter, as storms come." 

This was a rather simple way of saying that she should be quick about it, and that something terrible could kill us if she didn't hurry. 

The demon had begun to drift closer to me, chilling the air around me, while an overwhelming smell of dead flesh grew stronger, and the nauseating taste of bile filled my mouth. Behind it, the monstrosity left a crimson trail, which slowly dripped up to the ceiling to pool with the rest of the blood. 

"Desspair, ssscream, cry! They are all deliciousss." A distorted arm reached for me "It iss time for us to consssume your heart."  

"I think not!" 

The demon stopped short, as several rounds of ammunition connected with its hideous face in rapid succession. 

Allana stepped into view from behind one of the crates, loading a new clip into her still smoking Benedictor. She must have been waiting for the demon to get into range when we had split up earlier. Though the idea of being used as bait did concern me, I could hardly fault her though, as she had made up for it with a number of well-placed shots. 

"The lady is right, demon. You can't have my heart." I said, before looking over to Allana "It already belongs to her." 

Before either of them could respond, I turned back to the demon, raised my sidearm and opened fire.