II. Gods and Monsters

Repaying a Debt

Amadeus had been sat watching the machine for hours now. The only rest he'd had was the short amount of time it took his master to gain the information he wanted. Amadeus had been unpleasantly surprised when it had taken only five shocks from the tesla coils before Metatron released the information on the girl. Unlike his master and the metallic being before him, he actually appreciated occasional rest.

Now the machine lay dormant, presenting a very different situation from the last time Amadeus had come face-to-face with the hunter. Metatron had only started to enhance himself at the time, having only replaced his left arm. He had been mostly flesh and blood and had escaped very quickly from the cage he had been placed in. Before his escape, however, he had suffered a lot more pain before passing out. Whatever these enhancements had been for, they had clearly failed.

Amadeus looked up from his reading as Metatron's hands began to move. The fingers clenching and unclenching. Amadeus placed his book on the floor beside his chair and rose, preparing himself for an escape attempt. They had made extra care to chain his ankles and wrists, preventing any movement as they suspended him off the ground, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Amadeus..." it growled at him, "Come to gloat?"

"No," he replied, "I have simply been tasked with watching you until the master returns."

Metatron remained silent, either processing this information or gathering his strength after his torture. Amadeus could not tell either way due to the faceplate he always wore. Even when resting he had refused to retract it.

"I must confess, your loyalty baffles me," the thing finally said, "Has he not told you what happened to his previous servants?"

Amadeus gave the hunter a solemn look before replying simply; "I am not like them."

Metatron started to laugh. It was not loud or extravagant, nor timid or fearful, merely a small chuckle. The aim was to ridicule him, and Amadeus felt it, no matter how artificial the sounds were.

"All that have preceded you have made that very same statement. All have suffered the same fate."

Amadeus knew exactly what Metatron meant, but couldn't bring himself to admit it. He had not been the first herald of Hades, many had served before him. Each had suffered some form of gruesome death for one crime or another. Death by hellfire, blade or other... more primitive means were those that sprang to mind. Metatron's derogatory laughter grated from his synthesiser, bringing Amadeus back from his thoughts.

"You know, yet you remain with him. Is it fear or courage that keeps you as his pet?"

Metatron's voice had become patronising as if he was berating a small child.

"I owe him a debt I could never hope to repay. Honour is what keeps me by his side, something a machine like you would not understand."

Metatron let out a primal growl. Amadeus watched, waiting for any sign of physical confrontation, but none came. Instead, Metatron's chest gave a loud clunk. Plates were pulled back by gears and hydraulics, clicking, whirring and hissing as they went until Amadeus was faced with a sight that caused him to recoil.

"I. Am. No. Machine." Metatron growled at him.

Amadeus stared in shock at Metatron's open chest cavity. Inside it lay a ribcage and a revolting, blue sack. Inside this putrid bag lay Metatron's vital organs. A heart and two lungs floated in some form of sickly suspension fluid, the heart still beating and the lungs contracting and expanding. The skeleton seemed impeccable, still retaining its pure white colour. Apart from a few chips which Amadeus assumed he had sustained in battle, the hunter's inner workings seemed perfect. Almost alive.

"I live, as do all serving angels. I contain the essential organs I need to survive. My mind is my own and I control this vessel. Do not insult me again mortal," he warned him, re-sealing his organs away.

"Where is your face? You claim to have your own mind, why not raise your visor and show me?"

"You see my face and your life is finished human," Metatron spat.

Amadeus was taken aback by such a sudden, aggressive response.

"Maybe I was wrong. You do feel. You feel arrogance," Amadeus replied, "You think yourself above me when it is I that has you as a prisoner, in a trap of my own design."

"And yet, human, you claim that your 'honour' makes you somehow superior to me. I am an angel of The Lord and not only that but his huntsman. I purge the world of demons in the holiest of quests. I have been blessed by God himself to do these tasks. What tale could you have that could possibly prove you my superior?"

"I was once a young man living in what is now referred to as Ancient Rome. I was a warrior and a good one at that. I would enter the gladiatorial ring and exit as champion. Every time. However, I did not enter willingly."

"You were a slave," Metatron goaded, his synthetic tones dripping with disgusted amusement. The word still stung Amadeus, even to this day, but he chose to ignore him.

"I fought in a town called Pompeii. Crowds would cheer my name, I would receive tablets proclaiming love, adoration and respect from the public, but none of it meant anything. I had no real purpose. No true family, nor any true friends. I was alone in the world. I would pray every night that one day I would be taken from my miserable existence, that I would find a path...

Then the fire came."

Metatron's head leant slightly to the left, leading Amadeus to assume that he had his attention.

"The mountain spewed flames high into the air and the ground shook with the force of the mountain's rage. Rocks fell from the sky, crushing those who were unfortunate to be caught in their path to earth as ash filled our lungs. One of these rocks had flown through the air and broken my right arm. I thought this was what the gods had decided my escape from this life would be. I truly believed it when a ring of fire opened up in front of me and a man walked through. He wore Greek armour and called himself Hades. I realised at this point that the god of the underworld had come for me. Or so I thought. Hades took me from that nightmare and sheltered me in his current den. He nurtured me back to health and kept me safe for many long months. All he asked was that I join him on his quest for vengeance against Hell. He has since given me the option of leaving, but over the years we have formed a bond that I do not intend to break. He has given me a life I could only have dreamed of, to do as I please in return for relatively small favours."

"You are a sentimental fool," Metatron told him, "You really think he cares for you? He uses you like those in Rome. You are simply useful to him at this time. And in your urge to please him you have allowed the greatest threat to your 'quest' to enter your base of operations."

"You pose little threat to us in chains," Amadeus retorted.

"But how long do you expect me to remain captive for?"

Silence. He was trying to intimidate him. Threaten him. Even in chains, Metatron had an aura of complete control over the situation.

"Poor Amadeus," Metatron continued, "You are the most expendable in the eyes of each key character in this tale. When this all comes to a point... you will be the first to die."

Amadeus turned and strode from the room. He could not stand to listen to another word from this vile abomination.

Meanwhile, Metatron simply watched him go; red, glowing eyes followed his every movement behind the visor. Once the servant was out of sight, Metatron rotated his head to inspect the chains that suspended him.