Requiem: Book One in The Apocalypse Trilogy

Chapter Four

Rain fell from the grey clouds overhead in the thick droplets, plummeting down to quench the thirsty Earth below. The scent of wet dirt, ash, and Lucifer only knows what, wafted through the air, like a sickening perfume. Lawrence pulled his hood up over his head to block out the rain as it continued to fall. He walked with his hands in the pockets of leather jacket, humming a tune to pass the time.

His boots sloshed in the puddles as he made his way down a dirt road, with only his humming to keep him company. Lawrence preferred to be alone. His life was hard enough with the Apocalypse still raging on around him, though Lawrence took a step back from fighting. When he escaped from Hell, Lawrence never wanted to be a part of Lucifer’s army. He never wanted to be a part of the Apocalypse.

Lawrence only wanted to be free.

Being a Demon, he was committing a high treason against Lucifer by not fighting against the Angels or the human race. Lawrence found no point in it. He was done with the life he had led before his soul wound up in Hell three hundred years ago, two hundred years before the Apocalypse had begun.

Lawrence was finished with it all.

He didn’t want innocent blood on his hands. He didn’t want to be the thing that went bump in the night. He especially didn’t want his head on a silver platter. It was already bad enough that he was a Demon, which left a natural bullseye on his back, but Lawrence would never allow himself to turn into the monster he was before he went to Hell or even the monster he had been while he was trapped in Hell..

Hell wasn’t a place any human soul wanted to end up.

The stench of rotting flesh and sulfur hung in the hot, humid air like thick, putrid clouds. Human souls were tortured and ripped apart until there was nothing left, but a Demon. Screams and sadistic cackling it what kept the human souls awake at night, trembling in their cells.

If Lawrence had known that Heaven and Hell really existed, he would have lived his life much differently.

Lawrence adjusted the backpack on his shoulder, relieving his body for a moment of the crushing weight. Sometimes he wished he wasn’t such a pack rat, but everything that was in his pack, was everything he could have ever wanted. Books, clothes, and his violin, along with some provisions, were tucked away into his backpack.

Demons weren’t supposed to read. Hell, they weren’t even supposed to be interested in music or books, but that’s where Lawrence was different from the other Demons. After spending two hundred years in Hell without decent music or something to read, Lawrence had been driven mad to find them after he was released from Hell.

History, music, cultures, religion--everything had changed so drastically in the past two hundred years. Lawrence wanted to know as much as he could. He would spend countless nights reading by the light of his campfire before he went to sleep. Sometimes, he wouldn’t sleep because the nightmares from Hell would come back to haunt him. Demons didn’t need to sleep, but it helped pass the time.

A blood curdling scream filled the silence.

Lawrence came to a sudden halt, quickly snapping to attention; his liquid, honey brown eyes looking about him. He stood there a moment, straining his ears to hear where the scream had come from. By the vibrations through the trees, Lawrence knew it couldn’t have been too far from where he was.

The scream came once more, from his right.

Lawrence, curious as to what could possibly be going on, broke out into a sprint. He ran through the trees, his back pack slamming painfully into his spine as he jumped over fallen trees and dodged large boulders.

The screams brought him to a forest clearing.

Standing in the middle of the forest clearing, were two little girls. They appeared no older than seven or eight, dressed in all black clothing. Their eyes were wide with terror as a small group of three Demons surrounded them. One of the little girls pulled a knife from the hilt at her side, standing protectively in front of the other girl. The Demons snickered, their black gazes twinkling, as they continued to circle around the two little girls, like a pack of Hyenas.

Naturally, Lawrence would have steered clear of any conflict with other Demons, but given the current circumstances, he decided to involve himself. Lawrence removed his backpack from his shoulders, dropping it to the ground, and stepped into the forest clearing.

“Hello, boys,” Lawrence greeted and the Demons whirled around to snarl at him. “I knew Demons were low, but I did not realize they were cradle-robbing low.”

“Oh, don’t pull that whole heroic crap with us, Lawrence,” One of the Demons hissed. “You’re no different than the rest of us.”

“Actually, that’s where you’re wrong,” Lawrence said, walking in a slow circle around the Demons, his eyes flicking between the frightened children to the Demons. “My soul may be as black and as void as the deepest pits in Hell, but I know when enough is enough. Do you?”

“What do you care?” The same Demon inquired, walking along at the same slow pace as Lawrence. “You left us. You betrayed Lucifer, and for what? Did you really think your days in Hell would remain behind you, Lawrence? That they wouldn’t follow you around like that symbol burned into your skin?” The Demon smirked when Lawrence paused for a second, a flicker of hesitation in his honey brown eyes. “Lucifer is looking for you. When we bring you to him--”

“If you even get that far,” Lawrence said menacingly, his honey brown eyes shifting into the black, soulless orbs the fellow Demons before him wore.

The symbol on his right collarbone burned like a hot coal against his skin, begging for Lawrence to release his wrath upon the Demons. Hell fire ran through his veins like a disease, plaguing his blood, his muscles, and his bones. The Demon gave a cry of anger and charged at Lawrence, who raised his right hand, palm up toward the Demon, before closing his hand into a tight fist.

The Demon exploded, blood, flesh, and ichor rained down from where the Demon had been. Lawrence shifted his gaze toward the other two, who each took a step back away from the two little girls, but mostly away from Lawrence and his wrath. Terrified for their lives, the Demons fled into the treeline.

Lawrence blinked, his black eyes fading away to reveal his honey brown eyes. The symbol on his right collarbone slowly died down, the heat subsiding as Lawrence brought his powers back down to a resting state. Lawrence turned his eyes onto the little girls, who coward back away from him.

“It’s okay,” Lawrence said gently, holding his hands out toward them. “I’m not going to hurt you. What are your names?”

“My name is Laura,” The girl with the knife said. “and this is my little sister, Carrie.”

“Well, Laura, that was a very brave thing you did,” Lawrence commended with a small smile. “Defending your sister. I admire you for that. Where are your parents?”

“Dead,” Laura said flatly.

“Oh, I see,” Lawrence bit his lower lip in thought. “Is there someone I can bring you to?”

“You could turn around,” Laura said with a dark smile.

Lawrence frowned and went to turn his head to look behind him--

Something hard smashed into his temple.

Lawrence collapsed onto his side like a ragdoll, his body limp. The pain in his skull crashed into him like a tsunami. His vision blurred and lights popped behind in eyes. The darkness came for him, pulling him down into the abyss.