Lucy's Demons

Lucy's Demons Part VII Tribulation

     Lucy stormed into her room crackling with white hot fury. She was the only soul in the house, but that didn’t stop her from savagely slamming the door behind her. Scanning the room for any release, her eyes fell on an old photograph of the whole family as it had existed for one brief period before the tragedies began. They were all smiling and standing in the shade of Lucy’s tree. Everyone was nicely dressed for Easter Sunday in a happy and hopeful scene that felt like such an utter lie now. She swiped the picture from her bookshelf and dashed it across the room at full force. The frame shattered against the opposite wall and Lucy ran to it, immediately horrified at what she’d done. Broken glass had scratched some of the print off of her mother’s chest. Lucy snatched up a shard of glass and poised to drag it across her wrist. She tasted the biting kiss of the jagged edge inside her fingers and hesitated.
     “Wait,” Lucy told herself. She had been trying so hard to shift her reality with all the meditations, invocations, breath work and visualization. This felt like an admission of defeat. The idea made her spiteful and she determined again to add to the tally on her wrist. But she started to think ahead about what a pain it was to clean up and deal with all day and finally realized the urge had already passed. She opened her fingers and let the shard drop from her hand. Lucy wept.
     Leaving the mess, she forced herself to simmer down to a sulk and plopped onto her bed for her morning reading of the Tome of Artemis. She had recently started from the beginning again, which dealt with ancient man’s struggle for domination against the spirit realm.
     From the dawn of man to the days of the early Levantine kings, humans had been tormented by many aspects of aetheric entities: feral animal spirits, lingering souls of ancestors, ancient gods and whimsical imaginings of sentient minds. But after a privileged youth spent in meditation and the study of Akkadian and Egyptian magic, King Solomon found himself uniquely equipped to combat this constant threat to human civilization. In 933 BC, aided by his master mason and metallurgist, Hiram Abiff, Solomon created a unique alloy that existed in both the material world and the aetheric plane. From this new element which Hiram named “middle-matter”, they crafted the first two “god machines” in the form of a bright ring and a brass-hued vessel. Expanding on the arcane methods of King Sargon of Akkad, Solomon used these tools to bind together the rogue daemons with many of the old gods and animal totems, creating out of them 144 spirit amalgams whom he dubbed goetic (invocable) archangels and demons. According to the Tome of Artemis, this event became known among an elite esoteric few spirits and humans as the First Reformation of the Aether.
     But the vital new element was scarce, and the vessel could not contain all spirits at once. So, Solomon wrote the mysterious enn chants to bind and remind the spirits of the threat of imprisonment and keep them under the yoke of human domination. Using a secret language now lost in time, Solomon penned different summoning spells for each of the 72 angels and 72 demons he’d formed. He shared the spells with all his kingdom and placed them in his magical text, The Lesser Key of Solomon.
     The Tome of Artemis goes on to detail the Second Reformation of the aetheric plane in AD 333, when Emperor Constantine reordered the spiritual hierarchies around the Christ and Lucifer. Where Solomon’s reformation had delivered power over the aether into the hands of humanity, Constantine’s goal was to form a self-sustaining order of spirits and hoard control over it. In an effort to obscure the existence of aetheric spirits from humanity, the emperor erected many barriers between the planes. Most significantly, he banned the use of magic for Christians. Nonetheless, Constantine dared not eradicate the powerful enn chants that had entirely shifted the balance of power between man and spirit. The enns and sigils were secretly available to high placed clergy, kings, emperors, and the esoteric few, but to the common man, this was considered witchcraft, punishable by gruesome death. Though lost for centuries to the general populace, eventually the Lesser Key of Solomon was rediscovered and later the Tome of Artemis was also uncovered, both of which contained an identical list of angels, demons, enns and sigils. These enns and sigils still hold sway over Gaap and the other goetic spirits to this day.
     So it was, despite his consciousness being halfway around the world when Lucy spoke his enn, the ancient spell drew Gaap all the way back to Lucy’s bedroom.
     After invocation, Gaap had remained with Lucy throughout her argument with John. Now her bombastic and enraged golem of wrath towered before him, burning off red mana like a furnace. Just as Lucy’s temper reached its apex, Gaap engaged the roiling personality and absorbed all its angry energy like a sponge, reducing it to a miniscule imp. Though it still raged with Lucy’s ire, it would be a while before it was fit for harvest again.
     So Gaap again pondered his tarot reading. “Hermit, Magician, Star. Hermit, Magician… Star?” Perhaps Jim was the Star? Lucy's father was essentially a hermit. But Glasya had said that was just a symbol for some hidden secret regarding the situation. Gaap already knew all of Lucy’s secrets. But the boy? The athlete? The “star” of her world? He was quite an unknown factor. Gaap didn’t like unknown factors. He knew too well that ignorance can prove fatal. It was time to investigate this mark of Sabnock’s.
     And so, Gaap floated out of Lucy’s soul and up into the sky. Riding the ectoplasmic drafts of the aether, he crossed the city and soon located Bulldog. Already up and about, he had driven to an aged grey warehouse outside the city limits. As Gaap watched from high above, the boy pulled several large bags from his truck and brought them into the building. Peering through the ceiling with his aetheric eyes, Gaap soon realized that Jim was doling out food and water to dozens of canines in cages lined up in row after row. His chore completed, he went back to his vehicle and sat, smoking a cigarette.
     Gaap adjusted his second sight and peering into the boy’s brain, he could indeed see Sabnock lounging within. Gaap noticed that although Bulldog had touted his devotion to Dantalion, it was General Gremaje's sigil that shone prominently above Jim’s head. Sabnock had staked his army’s sigil like some lowly imp trying to look important, Gaap mused with disgust.
     Suddenly both Sabnock and Bulldog jumped to attention at the sound of trucks approaching from the unpaved road off the highway.
     A line of three black military style vehicles pulled into the gravel driveway in front of the building. All the men in the trucks exhibited a powerfully charged sigil of Dantalion above his head, but none so bright as the lone passenger in the middle vehicle. The driver went around and opened the door for the obvious leader of this legion. All the lackeys emerged simultaneously and flanked this man dressed all in black with a white collar like a priest. Gaap had never seen an avatar of Dantalion in person.
     He remained fixated on the curious scene but made certain he did not fall closer to them. Something told him his presence would not be welcome. Gaap knew Sabnock would never think to look miles above him, but he was unsure of the perceptive abilities of the avatar and minions. After Jim opened the bay door, two men took positions outside, and the rest toured the cages with Jim. The man in black pointed at one after another and each time, one of his soldiers would carry the caged animal to one of the trucks. Finally, the avatar gestured to Jim and one of his men handed over a roll of mammon.
     He then waved the lackeys to the cars and drew close to Bulldog. He spoke in a low voice with words Gaap was unable to hear. Gaap became frustrated and desperate. This could be crucial information. He had to hear it, regardless of the danger of being noticed. Gaap was becoming increasingly certain Sabnock hadn’t played straight with him. He dove down and was quickly within range.
     “… and yet, she remains recalcitrant. Withholding more potential than any rewire I’ve trained, by far. Inconceivable as it seems to me, you remain her one fear. You are the sole monster in her powerful mind and that night, the one memory she cannot abide. We have no other viable option, unfortunately.”
     “But hear me well because though it’s distasteful to have to mention, I see your demons. It’s crucial she remain pure. I won’t demean myself with explicit threats. I assume you know who you are dealing with. Just know that if you fail in this, your father will never have a clue what happened to you. Comprendé, Cazador?”
     It was the first time Gaap had seen Bulldog appear uncomfortable. He nodded silently.
     “Very good.” The Avatar blasted out a fast whistle so powerful that it seemed to push Bulldog back on his heels. Two goons came back from the trucks with a large cage covered with a black sheet. “For your own safety, I highly advise you not even attempt to open the conveyance.”
     As though on cue, the inhabitant of the cage violently threw its weight to one side, causing a soldier to drop the box directly on his own foot. The black sheet slipped ever so slightly but both men leapt to hold it in place. The offending lackey made not a peep, but instantly looked to the avatar who glared the man’s skin to alabaster.
     “And just in case that didn’t make things as clear as an azure sky in deepest summer, do not under any circumstances, remove the hood. I’ll have to trust your judgement to know when she is broken. At which point, you send our signal to the only number in contacts.” The avatar handed over a cellphone. “Then ends the final chapter of this little foray into your father’s affairs.”
     “Four-A?” Bulldog cocked his head like his namesake.
     “Shameful. Your father’s legacy adorns you like a giant’s robe.” The avatar sneered as he spun on his heel and paced to his vehicle with a stride that seemed to shake the Earth under his feet. At that moment, Gaap saw Sabnock jump out of Bulldog’s mindscape and into the last truck. The center vehicle pulled out first and fast. The others followed behind.
      Seeing the coast was finally clear, Gaap floated down into the building and perched in the rafters. As Jim closed the bay door, he repeatedly looked over his shoulder at the hooded cage. Gaap's aethereal eyes that could see through concrete and lead at a hundred miles away, could not see through that covering. Clearly the hood was imbedded with sigils to block any spying angelic eyes. Bulldog’s nervous focus on the cage was palpable even to Gaap.
     “Well, aren’t you even going to say hi?”, a young female voice echoed confidently from the covered cage.
     Bulldog exhaled sharply, mad at himself for not taking the power of the first word. But he jumped into the game eagerly despite his fumble. “I hear you’re still afraid of me.”
     “The way I remember it, I came right at you. You call that fear?”
     “They said you have nightmares about big monster Jim. I’m the only thing you’re still afraid of.”
     “Pfff. That’s what they told you. You’re such a sucker. They didn’t send me here for you to break me, cuz you’re my one fear. They sent me here so I could break you, because you’re my one fear,” the defiant voice responded.
     Bulldog almost staggered; again, she caught him off guard. But he played it off and retorted, “So you are afraid of me. Good. You should be. I’m already late. We’ll party later, little dolly.”
     Jim flipped a switch on the wall by the door and the room erupted with a deafening cacophony of barks, howls, snarls and growls. If there was any reaction beneath the black hood, Bulldog could not hear it. He placed a hand on the exit door and shut off the lights. For a moment, he peered into the absolute blackness that howled and raged back at him. Then left.
     Gaap was completely bumfuzzled. All he knew for certain was that his mark shouldn’t be anywhere near this monster in the making. But whatever dealings Jim had going with the underworld, it wasn’t grounds to break his word to Sabnock. None of this explained his interest in Lucy. Gaap just had to know more. He wanted to fully understand the situation one of his primary energy sources was walking into.
     Gaap surveilled Bulldog throughout the morning as he went through his classes mentally absent with Sabnock back again sleeping peacefully in his head. So much for Sabnock’s boasts of ambitious activity. Rarely was either mentally present except between classes when, roaming the halls, the angry young man would mildly assault and antagonize his classmates.
    Late in the morning, as Jim trekked across the campus, Gaap saw ahead and heard Lucy creep up behind Talia at her locker and goosed her rear end.
     “Hey, sexy. Still mad at me?”
     “Oh! Masher! You been taking lessons from your new football buddies!”
     “You’re probably right! He won’t be my buddy for long. Not after he hears. John says I can’t go. I’m grounded. So, you don’t have to be mad anymore.”
     Talia side-hugged her and said, “I wasn’t ever mad because you were going without me. And I know you’re not going to let John stop you from seeing Dantalion. But it’s ok. I want you to go. I just hope he doesn’t do anything to you.”
     Lucy sighed and looked away. “He won’t. Gaap will protect me.”
     Gaap could see this was no consolation to Talia, but she remained silent, took Lucy’s hand to pull her down the hall and turned directly into Bulldog’s chest.
     “Protect you from who? You know all you have to do is holler and anyone messing with you is dead meat, Lucy-fer.”
     “Oh! Uh… just a figure of speech, Jim. Don’t worry about me. I’m good.” Lucy looked up at Jim to see if he was convinced.
     “Look, I promise Alice won’t fuck with you again. We still good for the concert, I guess?”
     “Oh, yes! I’m losing my mind; I’m so excited! This is my friend Talia, by the way.” She glanced embarrassingly at Talia as if to confess that she indeed planned to wiggle out of John’s bullshit punishment one way or another.
     “Hey.” Jim looked Talia up and down. “Cool hair.”
     “Thanks. Cool muscles.”
     “Ha! Right?” Jim rolled his shoulders forward while Talia rolled her eyes and turned aside.
     “So look, I got you something. Peace offering, you know what I’m saying?”
     Jim pulled a round sterling silver keychain from his pocket and dangled it before Lucy’s eyes like a hypnotist.
     “Recognize it?”
     Lucy paused just an instant then shrieked as she plucked it from his enormous hand, “Gaap’s sigil! Oh my God! Thank you so much!”
     “Ah, it’s the least I could do after Alice and then being a dick about your faith. At one point, I’d collected all of them, so I already had this one laying around.”
     “You mean you broke up a complete set just to give me this?”
     “I wasn’t using them. It’s no biggie. Hey, check this out too.”
     Bulldog pulled his Moonfön from his pocket and held out a news headline for Lucy to read.
     “Lead singer of Dantalion’s Water claims he will channel namesake in Austin under new Moon.” Lucy’s eyes opened wide with amazement as she and Jim locked in a gaze.
     “Holy fuck, right?”
     “I’m so freaking excited, dude!”  
     “I’ll text you tomorrow afternoon about where to pick you up, ok?”
     “Absolutely! Thanks again for the invite!” Lucy was thanking Jim’s back as he had already started walking away.
     “Absolutely! Thanks ever so much for the gracious invitation to murder me and toss my remains in a dumpster!” Talia mocked with a smirk.
     “I did not say that.” Lucy returned the smirk. “They’re going to invoke Dantalion on stage! And look!” Lucy held up Gaap’s sigil.
     “Maybe. But your demon buddy isn’t going to help you. That’s just not how it works. He’s as much a slave to the fake system as we all are. You stay bogged down in the ancient timeline every time you start over. You need to finish the whole Tome up to the blank pages.” Talia wrapped her arm around Lucy’s waist as they ambled to class and Talia continued her lecture.
     “Artemis is who you should be focusing on. Leave demons to brainless Biff over there. You and me really just need to blow this high school bs and go join a Valkyrie gang. It’s coming and this normal programmed behavior we’re all engaged in is going to be a waste of time when the arrow falls, anyway.”
     Gaap felt a pang of pride when Talia had told Lucy he would not aid her. Surely it wasn’t his job to protect her like some deluded angel, but he felt some obligation on his part to protect his cattle and he felt he was doing so. Gaap listened to their debate for a few more seconds, but soon returned his focus to Bulldog for the day.
      Throughout Jim’s half-day at school and afternoon at work, Gaap felt he had learned nothing. It was all useless information. He wanted to know what was this history the man-boy shared with the voice under the hood? What meant the avatar’s warnings? Could he be interfering with Dantalion’s affairs? Or maybe Sabnock is the one overstepping his bounds and by ignoring this mystery, might Gaap endanger Dantalion’s business? Sabnock was a decent earner, but he was also a well-known double-dealer. Gaap felt his path forward was obscured.
     Confused and exasperated, Gaap returned again to the tarot reading as he did whenever he ran out of answers. “Hermit, Magician, Star. Hermit, Magician, Star.”
     Gaap pondered the voice under the hood. The man in Black had said something had made her fear Bulldog. What could have happened? How could he possibly find out without going into one of their memories and risking the abyss?
     “Hermit. Magician. Star. That damn Magician. How could it not be Merlin?” He pondered aloud. Could there perhaps already exist some magic tool for spelunking into this boy’s memories? “I don’t care what Glasya says about it, I’m going to go discuss this with the only magician I know.”
     Just as Gaap determined to return to Hell, the drug addict climbed into Bulldog’s truck and Gaap decided to watch just one more scene.
     “Oh… shit…” much to Skunk’s alarm, Bulldog started hurriedly searching his pockets and dashboard. “Oh, shit. Be chill dude. Uh…”
     “Goddamn it, man. Are you seriously…”
     “I’m not yanking you, dude. I promise. I had it. Hold up!” Bulldog shook his head and put his fingers on his temples in dubious rumination.
     “Oh, man. I just had Moonie’s for dinner, and I bet I tossed the wrong bag, you know what I’m saying? Dude. I think I just chunked your shit in the dumpster, bro!”
     “No fucking way! A whole ball?”
     “It’s just around the corner, man. Grab your bike and follow me. I’m sure it’s still there.”
     “Jesus! I’ve been waiting for this hit all day.” Skunk whined as Jim drove off.
     Skunk pedaled up to Jim’s truck waiting at the dumpster behind Moonie’s Burgers and sat still a moment, sizing up the situation.
     Bulldog leaned far out of his window and said gleefully, “You wanna give it a shot? It was in a white Moonie’s bag. Should be easy to see. I was trying to hide it and then I forgot it was in there, you know what I’m saying?”
     “Why don’t you get it? You lost it!”
     “I don’t need it that bad, bro,” Jim said with daggers in his smile as he pulled his head back inside the shadows of the cab. “I can get you more tonight if you can wait ‘til 11 or so.”
     “Jesus, Jim.”
     Bulldog chuckled. “I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry! It’s just funny. I didn’t do it on purpose.”
     “Goddamn it…”
     Skunk hesitated, but the thought of missing his fix was unbearable. He got off his bike and hollered, “You remember where you threw it?”
     “Ah, fuck. Left side, maybe? Just look for the white bag.”
     Skunk tried to peer over the edge of the dumpster, but it was so high he couldn’t really get a good look. He was going to have to jump in. The sun-baked black metal seared his hands as he put all his weight on them to pull up. Skunk screamed and threw himself into the garbage container on his back. His clothes instantly absorbed several different pungent mystery fluids. Skunk struggled to get up and began searching for the bag. He soon realized that the clock was ticking as the smell set his already fragile stomach into convulsions.
     “There’s a hundred white bags!” he shouted as he tore open one after another. It just wasn’t there. Skunk threw a few more emptied bags aside, but quickly realized this was an effort in futility. He was wrestling with giving up or throwing up when Bulldog leapt out of the truck holding a white bag in the air.
     “It was under the seat! Ha, ha, ha, I’m sorry, bro! I had it under the seat! Come on out.”
     Bulldog laughed hysterically as he got in the truck and waited for Skunk to climb out. Skunk made it to the passenger side and flung open the door where Jim held out the bag but blocked him from entering.
     “Whoa, Hoss. You can’t sit on my seat like that.”
     “Fuck you, Jim. I just want my pills back.”
     “Dude. I don’t even have them on me…”
     Skunk slapped open the glove box, snatched the bottle, and ran toward his bike.
     “Hey, motherfucker! I need those! Fuck! Fuck!” Jim scrambled to start his truck while he heard Skunk rip the cord on his motor and start to speed away. Jim chased Skunk up the block yelling at him the whole time. Soon Skunk’s engine died, and Bulldog was upon him. Pedaling frantically, Skunk pulled through someone’s yard and Jim gave up. He laughed and shouted out the window,
     “That’s right! Run, run, run, dumpster diver! You know you’ll be dead by morning!”