Hell's Greatest Weapon

Chapter 28: Million-Piece Puzzle

Stop focusing on this, you have other things to do.

You were sitting on the bed, your legs pretzeled and your hair a mess while you chewed on your thumb nail, eyes narrowed and fixed on the TV that had long since turned to static.  The memories were starting to arrange themselves, now, you understood the times before Jesus's walking the earth but everything after that was still fuzzy; you knew Cain had the Mark, knew that he was likely the one who had done this to you but there was something missing—you felt it in your stomach.

Sup seemed happy about your refusal to go after Cain until you knew everything, until you had regained the control you had prior to being sent back down to the cage, because he was jumping up and down on the counter, clapping his hands while saying Keep working, keep working! You can remember! before an angry Id would punch him, sending him flying into the door and squeaking to the ground.

The voices in your mind were beginning to calm, too, and slowly but surely you began sorting through the important ones; lower level demons were sinking in importance while upper levels still somehow made it through to your conscious thought.  Angels were out, you didn't give a single lick of thought to them, and your mind wasn't straight enough to remember who the king of Hell was at that given time, so you had to keep listening, keep trying to organize your memories enough to get the answer.

It must have been three or four days of you just sitting there, eyes fixed on the TV while Id and Sup each encouraged you to do two separate things: Sup wanted you to keep thinking, every once in a while stopping to bring you a cup of water, but Id was usually more action-oriented, suggesting that you go down to Hell and start figuring stuff out in a more active manner.  Naturally you listened to Sup, the main reason being that you weren't comfortable going into Hell if you couldn't remember what you needed to.  Or who the king was.

How embarrassing would that be?

"Do you remember it, yet?" Death's cool voice came from the door and you shook your head, unsurprised by his sudden appearance. Walking over toward you, Death held out a white, paper bag and handed it to you before shaking it a bit to get your attention; when he saw that you had looked at it, he tossed it to you and took a seat on the chair across the room.  "How's your progress?"

"I don't know." You whispered, then heard Id chuckle from the bathroom.  "I don't even know what I'm trying to remember."

Death leaned toward you, his eyes fixed on yours even though you still weren't looking into his.  "Tell me what you've realized, then."

You looked at him, then, before saying, "I'm old as fuck."

He shrugged with a smile before leaning back in the chair and crossing his legs.  "Yes, I suppose you could say that.  What else?"

"I don't know."

"Think."

"I don't know."

Tell him about the Mark! Sup called from the bathroom where each he and Id were hiding, but a loud Sup, for the love of all things holy shut up echoed from the small room, followed closely behind by a thud on the door and a squeak.

Death must have seen you rub the constantly throbbing area on your left arm because he nodded.  "Good. That's a start.  What else?"

"Why don't you just tell me?"

He chuckled.  "You must not have gathered your memories very fully if you expect me to just give you answers, my dear." Death shook his head, a smile still painted on his cheeks when he pointed to the bag he handed you.  "I do suggest you take a bite of that, though, your body needs sustenance.  You're not in an angel form anymore, you've got responsibilities."