On the Evil Scale: Keeper of La Tecla (The Key) Book Two

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𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 60

𝒯he hospital. Its structure still stood but suffered damage. The fourth floor all the way at the top where the most severe patients that couldn’t have been moved, had been damaged; itsceiling was completely demolished and caved in. The patients were killed once Drakuul’s men had claimed the village as their own; their bodies laying lifeless in their beds that were pinned and buried beneath the rubble. Thankfully, the structure had been reinforced over time and the lower levels were stable and intact but supplies, beds, blankets and medicines were scattered down the halls and off their shelves.

Appearing outside the hospital Azim carried the young half-breed through the doors in swift strides; friends closely alongside. They worried for there were no medical staff present, none but residents waiting attentionthemselves; Jinn paced back and forth between individuals. Suddenly, rushing through the doors behind them were Matthews and all medical staff dropping their bags and coats by the doors. Matthews and two other Doctors rushed to gather supplies and hearing the wheels rattling from around the corner, a gurney was pushed toward Azim with a portable oxygen machine and heart monitor at its feet. As Azim laid her frail body upon the gurney; the nurses simultaneously removing her armor and unfastening the suit down the front to apply the heart monitor stickers and inserting the oxygen tube, Matthews bombarded Azim with loads of questions of which Azim managed to answer with ease. Erik ran his fingers through his hair with worry, watching as the nurses began rolling me down the hall.

“You three…” Matthews looked in Nick, Caleb and Erik’s direction, “you can follow but once they reach the O.R, you must wait outside!” he nodded then turned, walking alongside Azim continuing to listen, learning about what he was up against, “Poison? Of what kind?”

“Not only is it poison, but it’s dark magic.” Azim muttered, watching as the young men followed after the gurney, “Our Queen will tell you more, for she’s more knowledgeable of these things.”

“Alright, will do.” Matthews nodded searching for the Nubian Queen.

Nick, Erik and Caleb quickly scampered down the hall after the nurses past the front desk which led to the right, leading up a faint slope that reached the elevators leading them up to the second floor where the full hospital-clinic resided. The first level was basically Beth’s clinic so nothing could be done for me there. Entering the elevator, the young men stood anxious watching as the numbers slowly flashed before hearing the ding that revealed they arrived to the second floor. As soon as the doors slid open, the gurney swiftly pushed to the left down another hall where the operating rooms were located. The oxygen continued pumping through the young woman’s lungs while the heart monitor read her vitals; growing weaker with every beep. After Matthews and Azim appeared, the young woman’s male friends stood listening to the nurses speaking in complicated medical terms; words and phrases they couldn’t understand.

“Hey, Yza…” Nick reached out holding my right hand, “it’s me, Nick. We’re here for you.”

“Yeah, love…me too!” Caleb added then glanced over his shoulder at Erik, “Say something, mate!”

Erik approached the gurney before it disappeared behind the doors and before he could speak, Matthews ordered the nurses to push the gurney into the O.R; the sliding doors rattled loudly as debris laid in the tracks.

“You three, stay here.” Matthews instructed, “You can’t come in here, I’m afraid, I’m sorry.”

“But I should be with her!” Erik argued.

“Look at yourself, kid…” Matthews argued in a firmer tone, “the three of you are covered in such filth that none of my team here have encountered and it’s bad enough she might have those germs running through her blood stream so I will not make it any worse! If you go against my instructions, you’ll be escorted outside, do you understand?” Matthews leered at the young men standing before him; Nick and Caleb nodded in agreement, before Erik finally ceased his argument, “Alright, good. You can take showers in the staff lounge, change your clothes into the clean uniforms there then wait with the others or better, help others here with their minor injuries. That’s all you can do.”

“Doctor Matthews…Richard!” the nurses called from inside.

Matthews didn’t bother wasting another moment arguing; swiftly entering the O.R.

Azim stood alongside the young men, who watched through the window that allowed views inside the room; the nurses and Matthews lifting the young woman off the gurney and onto the table. Glancing to her left, one of the nurses rushed toward the window, closing the shades. Erik closed his eyes as he stepped aside, leaning his head against the wall whispering a prayer to a god he wasn’t sure listened. He cursed, punching his fist through the wall then turned, sliding his back down the wall.

Nick and Caleb approached, standing him to his feet quickly, urging him to adhere to Matthews’ instructions, affirming that the young woman isn’t going anywhere. Even Azim agreed to the suggestion. Erik raised his gaze, studying the figures before him and glancing over his shoulder, he nodded but argued that once he was showered and cared for the lesser wounded, he’d be right back here.

“No one’s saying you won’t be.” Azim moaned.

Suddenly, Natash appeared.

“Where is she?” she called out.

“In there.” Azim gestured at the O.R. doors.

She glanced at the doors then rushed into the room; her form was clean as if war hadn’t touched her.

“You can’t be in here, Natash…wait outside!” Matthews’ argued as he struggled to stop the bleeding.

“Are any of you here capable of handling such poisons or weaponry such as that?” Natash frowned, waiting for an answer, “Right.” she approached the table.

“There’s a problem.” one of the nurses complained.

“What’s that?” Natash studied the woman of Indian culture.

“As long as this blade remains where it is, there’s nothing more we can do for her. Each time we attempt to touch or remove it, it only digs deeper into the wound.” Matthews fretted, leaning his bloodied gloved hands on the operating table.

Natash glanced around the room with the ceiling lights and medical equipment, thinking of ways to help when the answer came to her.

“I know of a way, but it must be done quickly.” she approached the table studying the young woman’s sleeping face, “I can place her in a moment of complete stasis, allowing enough time to remove the blade, although...since it’s dark magic, I’ll have to be the one to remove it.”

“Stasis? Meaning what!?” one of the nurses questioned.

“She’ll be completely frozen, from her breathing and even blood flow…” Natash glanced at Matthews who nodded in understanding of her meaning.

“Hopefully the dark magic will release its hold when it thinks she’s dead. It’s our only choice.”

“Alright, do it!” Matthews backed away from the table.

“Richard…” one of the nurses argued.

“This is beyond any of our expertise so let her try.” Matthews affirmed, then watched as the Nubian Queen walked around, then stood at the head of the table and began waving her hands over the petite patient; the monitors ceased reading any or all vital signs.

Natash closed her eyes muttering a chant that worked for only a few minutes for jerking her eyes open, the hospital staff watched as a deep frown leered down upon the young woman.

“What’s wrong?” Matthews questioned.

“She’s…” Natash groaned, “she’s fighting my magic which isn’t…possible.” she felt as her magic pressed against an invisible barrier of some sort in a reluctance or rejection, “I don’t know how long it’ll last so give me something to put the blade in…quickly!” she walked around standing alongside the left side of the table; one of the nurses stood behind her with a metal tray held in hand at the ready, “Mm.” Natash moaned then waving her hands over the wound, her magic acted like a magnet that rapidly removed the blade covered in blood and poison, “There!” she grabbed it mid-air, tossing it into the metal tray then backed away once the young woman broke free from her stasis.

Matthews and his team immediately stepped in, reading the vitals that continued where they had left off; the Doctor cleaned, repaired some of the damage inside, sealed the wound then covered it with medical bandages. But that wasn’t all, for they attended to other wounds the young woman suffered from war.

“May I use your laboratory?” Natash inquired.

“Yes, of course. Once we’re done here and she’s taken to one of the private recovery rooms, I’ll send one of the male lab techs to escort you. It might however...” his Wraith eyes focused on stitching closed another deep gash on her upper arm, “be in somewhat of a mess considering everything that’s happened here.”

“No worries.” Natash sighed, “I’ll be outside.” she slipped out of the O.R. and into the hall; greeted by anxious faces of Erik, Nick, Caleb and Azim, “Where’s Azir?” she searched for him.

“He said he had something else to attend to but he will be here.” Azim revealed, “Of the magical sort, of course.” he bowed his head.

“Mm, I see.” Natash walked alongside him.


Azir was accompanied by four Jinn as they strolled through Parliament, in search of the Necromancer. They followed the blood trail leading to a room down the hall; debris and rubble laid spewed everywhere. They listened to the loud ruckus and chaos in the streets as the city folk took back their city when suddenly they heard loud groans emerging from down the hall and growing closer with their hands held on the hilt of their swords, their tattoos began glowing faintly from the presence of magic being used. But from the tingle up their spines, it was ancient.

“Molock.” Azir muttered and placing his hands on the door knob, the door suddenly swung open.


During the hours that swiftly rolled by on Earth, days passed in Hell, that had seemed to revert back to its hectic environment as souls of Zarooks, Trolls, Harpies and Shadowed Ones appeared misplaced throughout the various levels of of the lower domain.Appearing through her secret door, Lilith glanced around when suddenly she heard a voice shout her name,

“Lilith!” and turning around, Molock approached.

“Just the Demon I was looking for.” she mocked.

“MOLOCK…LILITH!” Lucifer’s demonic voice summoned them.

Before they could disappear from prying eyes and ears, they walked toward their Master’s chambers.

“What are the two of you up to?” Lucifer ordered.

“Meaning?” Lilith smoothly attempted to dismiss the tension between herself and Molock.

“She was looking for me because…” Molock had a believable answer but Lucifer interrupted.

“Because…what?” he leered at Lilith.

“If you would only let your soldier finish!” she frowned.

“She was looking for me because there was a demon running around the upper levels near the Cerberus hounds. Hard bastard to catch but I just returned and the beast to his cage and he almost attacked me.” he raised his right arm where red marks were left visible on his skin.

Lucifer squinted his eyes then turned away, without question.

Molock sighed in relief,

“Is that all, my Lord? There are still many..”

“You may go! Both of you!” Lucifer barked.

Inconspicuously walking out of their Master’s chambers, they strolled down the nearest hall. Making sure no one was nearby Molock inquired,

“What’s happened up there?”

“It’s Yzavela.” Lilith’s words rushed from her lips.

Hearing her name, felt like an eternity considering the time difference between his and the Earthly realm.

“What happened!?” Molock asked eagerly, “What is it!?” he grabbed her petite shoulders.

“It’s not good.” Lilith pondered worriedly, “Not good at all.” she sighed, revealing the events that took place above ground, “She should be at the hospital by now.” she continued.

Molock raged, knowing he couldn’t get away from his duties; turning to the wall punching it fiercely. A hole was left as he removed his fist; knuckles unphased by the impact. He turned away from Lilith, running his hands through his thick black hair.

“I have to get away...even if it’s just for five minutes, I have to.” Molock whispered.

“I can help.” Lilith stepped around him, facing the 6’4 god.

“How?” he frowned, lowering his hands.

“I have my ways.” she winked.

“And the price?” Molock mocked.

“This one’s for free and for Yzavela” she stepped closer, standing just inches away.

“I don’t care what it is, if you can, I’ll be grateful.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” she mocked, “But go.”

Molock nodded, not having a choice in the moment.

“I have another matter to tend to, anyway but I just hope she’ll…” he closed his eyes, hiding tears that stung his eyes.

“I know, Molock…I know.” Lilith whispered, “Now go…”

Molock quickly strolled ahead down the corridor, disappearing around the corner. As his steps quickened with haste, he knew he had one soul left to collect; a soul that mattered most to Lucifer and making his way to the upper levels to the gates, the Cerberus hounds greeted him. He petted their snouts then revealed that a soul of such delicacy will be traveling through their gates and his orders were they weren’t to harm or consume it. He smiled then stepped into the circle, appearing on Earth and from there, he appeared in the shadows of the Necromancer’s conjuring room. He stood, observing the Immortal Necromancer that was no longer Immortal, hanging on by a thread with only moments left to live.


“Drakuul…Drakuul Lexus…” a voice whispered tauntingly.

Drakuul sat on the floor leaning against the altar when he heard footsteps walk across the tile floor; the sound of heavy boots approaching closer. With eyes fluttering open, there was a tall figurestanding near the door; a figure that approached in menacing steps but the mans’ face was masked in the shadows. Drakuul’s skin was pale and gray in color with a heavy clammy-sweat. His eyes could barely stay open as he muttered his inquiry in heavy breaths,

“Who...are you!? Are you Dea...Death!? If so...I’m...ready.”

The figure released low TSKs as he stood before the Necromancer and kneeling in front of him, Drakuul’s eyes opened enough to gaze upon his Reaper.

“I’m surprised you’re still alive but yes, Necromancer...I am Death.” Molock answered in a low demonic voice, “And you’ll be meeting my Master very soon but first, you must finish this life the way you lived it.”

“Wha...what does that…mean!?” Drakuul coughed blood.

“There’s a special little place for you, Drakuul Lexus and I promise you, it’ll have everything you’ve created in this life.”Molock taunted then gazed above his head toward the Necromancer’s black orb that sat upon its base, “Ah...there’s that infamous orb that conjured all my Master’s creatures.” he held out his right handpulling it toward him; the orb was sucked into the palm of his hand, “This…” he held in front of Drakuul, “doesn’t belong to you.” and with his bare hand, he crushed the orb into dust that fell upon Drakuul’s lap.

Drakuul attempted to flinch but that effort was pointless.

“Before I take you, there’s just something I’d like to say.” Molock muttered.

“Why are...you delaying...my...death!?” Drakuul wondered.

“Because I can.” Molock mocked and leaning in he continued by whispering in his ear, “And I must warn you, Necromancer...you’ll receive the greeting fit for the scum that you are…” he pulled away and standing, Drakuul began fearing his fate then released a mumbled chuckle, “And what do you find so humorous, Necromancer!?”

Coughing, Drakuul couldn’t speak verbally.

“Speak your words in your mind, Necromancer.” Molock placed his hands on his hips.

“Is that little Keeper-b*tch dead yet!?” Drakuul’s voice spoke clearly, “The poison running through her blood should’ve attacked her system by now.” he laughed in contentment.

Lowering his hands, Molock reached down pulling the Necromancer to his feet; raising his limp form off the ground and into the air.

“You listen to me, you worthless piece of sh*t!” Molock growled, “If you think she’s going to die, I’m pleased to be the one to inform you that she survived. The poison was quickly drawn from her blood and her demonic blood exterminated the remaining traces of it. So, she won’t be dying. Not today and what you did to her, doesn’t sit well with me. Not one god damn bit!” he released his grip; the mortal man falling dead-weight to the floor. Suddenly, before other words could be spoken between them, Molock glanced a little over his shoulder, sensing another presence and catching the magical scent, he frowned. With a flick of his head in a beckoning manner, the door swung open; figures stood out in the hall, “What are you doing here, Azir?” he continued, “This mortal doesn’t concern you.” he leered in the Nubian’s direction.

“Same as you, it seems.” Azir answered bluntly, “To make sure this mortal can do no harm.”

“He belongs to my Master, Azir so this...doesn’t concern you. Now, leave....” Molock warned.

“I don’t take orders from you, demon.” Azir stepped forward; sword gripped tightly in his right hand.

“Sheath your weapon, Nubian.” Molock’s eyes glowed red and snapping his fingers, Azir’s sword was sheathed, “That’s better. No sense in you trying anything foolish….you know my magic is older and more powerful than yours”

Azir attempted to remove the blade but it felt as if it were melded into the sheath. He lowered his hands, frowning as he sighed deeply, knowing he didn’t stand a chance against the Sumerian’s magic.

“What are you going to do to him!?” Azir inquired.

“After everything he’s done to people, to this island, to Yzavela...you’re seriously asking that f*cking question!? F*ck off and allow me to fulfill my task so afterwards, I can help Yzavela! If it’s not too late!”

Azir continuously frowned, knowing he couldn’t interfere with Molock’s duty. He reluctantly stepped back near the door, watching as the ancient demonjinn raised his hands; the Necromancer levitating high into the air. He began closing his fists very slowly; Drakuul’s left arm from shoulder down, in three places, broke inward collapsing the entire bone. His fists grew tighter causing Drakuul further excruciating pain then Molock replicated the process and pain to the right arm and shoulder; Drakuul’s agonizing screams echoed throughout the Parliament building. Even residents in the streets, heard the distant screams.

“What...are you...doing to me!?” Drakuul’s voice screamed telepathically.

“Something that’ll be repetitious and then some.” Molock threatened, “And I’ll be there to watch and listen and maybe...just maybe…” his fists tightened just a bit more, “I’ll even participate, if my Lord wishes.”

Azir remained silent as he felt the dark magic performed; dark magic he knew was intoxicating, alluring and forbidden but for Molock, nothing was forbidden. He made his choice to become what he was, centuries ago. Azir closed his eyes, taking deep breaths shaking off the temptation as he backed away near the door. Molock may not have been of his kin or origin, but the DemonJinn activated Azir’s tattoos as they glowed faintly; magic connecting and reaching out to close sources.

Glancing over his shoulder, Molock mocked as his red eyes held enjoyment,

“Where are you going, Zuberi!? This is something you wouldn’t want to miss.” and with a tilt of his head, the door slammed shut behind Azir, “After all the destruction and pain this mortal has inflicted, call this retribution for what he’s done to everyone...to Yzavela.” Molock finished in a low voice, continuing to tighten his fists; working his way down to Darkuul’s torso and legs. Drakuul’s screams echoed both verbally and telepathically as the DemonJinn tightened his fists for the final time and as he did, Drakuul’s neck snapped; skull caving in and whatever bones were left unbroken, were crushed and the moment taking place, was similar to the scene where the WITCH KING OF ANGMAR was defeated by EOWYN from LORD OF THE RINGS: RETURN OF THE KING as his body crushed within itself. All his bones shattered into nothing, leaving behind a lump of boneless flesh hidden beneath a pile of bloodied clothes. As the carcass fell to the ground creating an unsettling thud, Molock lowered his hands; a strong heat emanating from his palms. As he turned to Azir, the Nubian stood silent and shocked, “Don’t look so surprised, Azir.” Molock pondered, “You’re familiar with that ancient technique, even though you’ve never used it.”

“I’ve never conjured it, because that technique was supposedly declared as a forbidden practice to all Jinn due to its dark origins.” Azir proclaimed.

“Ah, see...that’s the problem with this world and yours. So much is forbidden because it’s considered dark magic or evil origins but if only the world knew that being evil is so much fun!” Molock scoffed as a flame danced in his red eyes, “But to each their own. I don’t mock or declare what it is you should practice, so don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, Nubian.” he paused glancing over his shoulder, “His soul is about to rise and I think you’ll want to see its dark core, yes?” he turned away from Azir, reciting a Sumerian soul summoning chant; Drakuul’s lifeless carcass releasing a black plasma that swirled in mid-air momentarily.

Molock grinned as he removed the ancient box that hung from his belt from its place on its hoop; the box covered with figures and symbols carved on its surface. Carefully placing his thumb on a symbol along the top, Molock muttered in a tormenting tone as he held the box before him,

“There you are, Drake. My Master is waiting for you…” and raising the box a few inches higher than his gaze, Darkuul’s dark essence was absorbed and sucked into the box and once inside, Molock corked the piece of pottery and turning to Azir he added before disappearing, “It is done. You may go.” and with a wave of his left hand, the door swung open behind Azir, “But do me a favor.”

“Why would I do anything for you?” Azir argued.

“Not for me. For Yzavela. Take care of her until I can come to her.” then he turned and before he vanished, he set Drakuul’s body ablaze, turning it into ashes.

Azir sighed; eyes closed momentarily before he turned away, returning to the Isle, making his way toward the hospital with thoughts consuming him of what Molock’s intentions truly were. He was dangerous indeed.


Four hours passed and the day was coming to an end.

Warriors and soldiers laid in hospital beds with friends and loved ones sitting at their sides.

Nathan complained, having Leonard’s presence as he sat propped up in bed; his face black and blue from punches inflicted, broken ribs and the healing wound he suffered on the field. Sarah at his side, held his hand but he pulled away from her grip.

“Why are you here!? Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend out in the hall with everyone else waiting for the bloody Keeper to wake up or die!?” he raged.

“Nathan!?” Sarah stepped away, “How could…yousay…something like that!? She’s my friend...she’s everyone’s friend.”

“Not mine! I’ve tried.” he winced as he shifted a pillow behind his back.

“Little Sarah...come on…” Leonard called her away, “leave him to his misery. It’s all he knows.”

Sarah glanced at their uncle, knowing he was right and walking around the bed toward him, she felt tears stinging her eyes.

Nathan watched as they left his room, disappearing outside and leaning his back against his pillows, he bit his lower lip; his eyes burning with tears that he quickly wiped away before the nurses came in. He pushed aside his current feelings and thoughts, attempting to put on his charm but the nurses, having boyfriends, being Wraiths or not into men, ignored his advances.

Walking the hall with her uncle at her side, Sarah searched for Jon who had reappeared after visiting his family and when spotting his red hair among the crowd of various natural and dyed hair colors, Sarah ran toward him eagerly, needing arms of a man that cared for her intimately around her. Jon embraced her tightly and leaning his back against the wall, he glanced into her blue eyes, smiling affectionately. She returned the smile, then leaned her head against his chest.

Leonard nodded in Jon’s direction once they made eye contact then turned away, checking on others he knew then turned, watching as Erik paced the hall and Lady D sitting on a bench near the O.R. doors. He approached, taking a seat alongside her, offering comfort. He glanced at her lap where a plastic bin laid containing an unconscious dragon that curled himself into a tight ball shivering and shaking; scales engulfed in a faint red Aura of his own that flickered in and out.

“How’s the little lizard?” Leonard asked, attempting a joke.

Lady D grinned, knowing he was trying to lighten the mood but she didn’t feel like sharing the humor. She attempted to stroke the dragon’s scales but the Aura gave off a strong heat, preventing unwanted contact.

“I don’t know how he is.” she muttered, “No one here knows about dragons, so I don’t know if he’s…if she’s…” she gasped, feeling tears run down her face.

“Lady D, you mustn’t think what I know you’re thinking, hmm?” Leonard removed a clean handkerchief from his pocket handing to her, “Your daughter will pull through, and so will her little fella there.”

“Thank you, Leonard.” Lady D sniffled, looking into his kind face, “Oh, um…have you seen Anthony?” her eyes searched the hall.

Leonard frowned, knowing she hadn’t heard the news.

“Leonard?” Lady D asked.

“Anthony is…” he gently placed his left hand on her shoulder, looking at her with deep sadness in his eyes.

“No…” Lady D gasped, “oh, god…no…” she held her left hand to her mouth, “Anthony?” tears stung her eyes.

“I don’t know what happened exactly, but Thomas hasn’t been seem since.” Leonard continued, then hearing someone calling his name he broke away from the conversation, “I have to go, love but if you need anything, give me a shout, yeah?” he smiled, receiving a smile in return.

Lady D watched as the hefty man strolled down the hall where men greeted him with firm friendly handshakes. Sighing heavily she broke her gaze from his direction, she cried for Anthony for he had brought her daughter such happiness. She highly approved then raising her gaze, she watched as Erik, Azir and others, paced the hall despite their minor injuries that went unnoticed. Her eyes veered toward the O.R. doors where Zanz laid along the wall, whimpering as his head rested on an injured-bandaged leg and wrapped girth from cracked ribs.

All in the hall, watched the clock listening as time passed when suddenly the O.R doors opened as the nurses pushed out a hospital bed where a petite woman laid with life-support and heart monitor machines and IV poles pushed alongside. The scene left everyone speechless as their hearts sunk to their feet. Lady D laid the plastic bin on the seat next to her as she jumped to her feet; her heart stopping in agony for the scene was too much for her to handle. She cried, holding her hands to her chest, hyperventilating as Natash approached, placing her arms around her in a comforting mother-to-mother embrace.

Zanz jumped to his feet, following the nurses who rolled the bed down two left hallways, entering one of the private recovery suites as stated by Matthews. Everyone quickly followed like her own private entourage, standing in the hall outside the suite waiting for Matthews to arrive. Trailing slowly behind and pausing in the hall, Lady D watched as Matthews slowly approached, removing his blood-smeared scrub robe. He threw it in a nearby hazard-bin then rubbed his hands together as he stared at his feet, taking a deep sigh.

“Doctor Matthews…how is she!?” Lady D anxiously questioned before he could speak, “How’s my daughter!?” but he didn’t answer as he walked past her toward my suite, “Excuse me,I’m talking to you!” she grabbed onto his arm turning him toward her, “Answer me, please!”

Matthews pulled his arm away gently; his red Wraith eyes staring into her brown tear filled set.

“First off, Ma’am...don’t ever put your hands on me, do you understand?” Matthews affirmed raising his right index finger in statement, receiving a nod as the woman backed away,“Now, we did everything we could to repair the damage, given the circumstances.”

“Circumstances!?What does that mean” Natash questioned.

“Her injuries are too severe that even if she does survive, her quality of life will be shortened. We can prolong her life but she’ll be nothing more than an empty shell. She won’t speak or move, much less really be here or ever gain consciousness and unfortunately with her severe blood loss and toxic poison running through her veins, it’s just a matter of time. Although, since she’s part demon…” Matthews sighed, “perhaps maybe that might counteract all of this, I don’t know.” he heard beeps on his beepers, “Excuse me.” he turned away.

“Oh my god…” Lady D feared placing her hands to her face; her heart beating rapidly, “please, no. Not my baby girl, please…” she muttered.

From one mother to another, Heather arrived at the hospital, walking the halls until finding the grieving mother. She had left her sons with neighbors, wanting to be with her husband but was nowhere to be found. Catching a glimpse of the Keeper’s mother she approached, after hearing the news from Nick and Caleb. Walking over, she greeted with a warm smile and open arms. Natash stepped away speaking with Azir, allowing the mothers to engage in conversation.

“Hush, Lady D…” Heather whispered softly with her Irish accent as she pulled away, “she’s a strong little lass and she’ll get through this. Have faith in her, yes?” she stared into the mother’s brown eyes.

“Thank you, Heather.” Lady D appreciated, “But now it’s not only her I’m worried about. It’s Abraxas.”

“Abraxas? Why? What’s happened?” Heather pondered, as she attentively listened to Lady D’s explanation of their bond.


“Did you remove the blade?” Azir asked softly.

“I did.” Natash nodded, removing the blade from her pocket, wrapped in cloth, “With poison still on the blade.”

Holding his hands inches above the blade, he could feel the dark magic running through the thick liquid that covered the weapon. He even heard faint whispers emanating from the dark arcane magic. Pulling his hands away he complained,

“It’s stronger than we thought.”

“Indeed. I haven’t seen this tincture used in a very long time.” Natash revealed, knowing the art of poisons, herbs and tinctures.

“Is there a cure?” Azir worried.

“One…” Natash tucked the wrapped blade back in her pocket, “But the ingredients, my love are impossible to find, if not extinct.” she fretted placing her hands on her hips, “But if we don’t find a cure, Azir…” she approached, placing her hands on his chest, “she’s lost to all of us and that’s not something her mother will survive.”

Azir embraced her comfortably, leaning his head upon hers as she rested against his chest.

“My Lady, Natash…” a young male nurse approached, calling out softly with a gentle English accent.

“Yes?” she answered gently pulling away from Azir who kept his hands on her waist.

“Doctor Matthews has sent me to escort you to the laboratory.” he nodded.

“Oh, yes...thank you.” Natash returned the nod; she and Azir following the young man down the halls arriving at the massive laboratory.

Erik, Lady D and a few others standing out in the hall watched as they disappeared around the corner. The Keeper’s mother blinked as tears continuously filled them; blurring her vision. She breathed heavily as Matthews approached once more.

“Can I see her please!?” she pleaded, “That’s my baby girl in there and I need to be with her. Please…”

Matthews; a man that once had a family understood the mother’s pleas. He closed his eyes, seeing the faces of his wife and two sons then opened them, nodding in respect.

“This way.” he led her toward the suite with Erik and Caleb following after but Matthews paused, “I’m sorry, but...only one visitor at a time for now. You’re going to have to wait out here with the others.”

Erik and Caleb hesitated, frowning in disappointment but nodded in agreement as they stepped backleaning against the opposite wall, watching as the female nurses dressed Lady D in a hospital’s gown that slipped over her dress for sanitary purposes. Caleb handed her the plastic bin containing Abraxas before sheslipped through the door but paused in the doorway as she listened to the beeps of machines and monitors, keeping her daughter alive. She gasped; tears streaming down her red cheeks once more, observing as remaining nurses covered the young woman’s fragile body (hooked up like an experiment) with a blanket. She approached the bed once the nurses left the room; laying the plastic bin at her feet. She pulled a nearby chair closer toward the bed and once sitting, she cautiously reached out for her daughter’s hand that laid heavy in her hands, while staring at her pale face. Leaning forward removing a strand of hair from her face with her left hand, stroking her head gently, the mother whispered lovingly,

“Oh, my baby girl...my little girl...you’re not alone. I’m here and so are all of your friends. And of course Zanz and Abraxas.” she glanced at them in their places, “We’re all here, baby girl but you need to wake up. You’re still needed here and I’m not going to out-live my child. You know that’s not the way it should be, so please Yza...wake up, sweetheart...wake up and…” she sniffled, “let us hear that sassy mouth, complaining and affirming your opinions. It’s too quiet around here.” she smiled then listened to the consistent beeps, unaware of their meaning but worried as they continued then ceased.


Natash and Azir stood in the laboratory, beginning to examine my blood taken from the blade as it pooled in a singular petridish. Natash waving her hands above the sample, runic symbols appeared in the air before them but only visible to their eyes and as they lingered, the symbols broke down the ingredients of the poison and that of my demonic DNA and enhancing the symbols, it brought an image of the blood sample closer, as if looking through a microscope. They watched as the poison attacked my DNA but when coming across the demonic cells, they were ignored and if anything, the cells absorbed the poison. Glancing across the room, Azir took notice of the male nurse trying to see what it is they observed and snapping his fingers, the images appeared for his eyes. He smiled as he approached the counter, studying the cells.

“In all my years of medicine, that’s unlike anything I’ve seen and I think I can speak for my colleagues when I say, neither have they.” he muttered as his eyes’ gaze focused from the cells to the Jinn.

“Of course none of you have seen it, but we have.” Azir informed quickly, “What’s your name, boy?” he raised an eyebrow, studying the young mans’ light brown skin and mannerisms.

“Jayden, Sir.” he answered.

“Thank you, Jayden. Leave us, please but wait in the hall.” Natash instructed respectfully.

Jayden nodding swiftly then exited the room.

Azir stood with a deep frown, distorting his smooth-flawless features; his golden eyes staring off in worry.

“Azir, my love...what is it?” Natash rasped as she turned his head toward her, gazing into each others eyes.

“It’s this poison, Natash.” Azir shook his head stroking his goatee once.

“What about it?”

“It was brewed from ancient Japanese herbs I thought no longer existed or thrived in today’s world, so I can never understand how that Necromancer came by them or managed access. But…” Azir paused, “I know of a place where they can be found...and others, if needed...to create an antidote.”

“You don’t mean…” Natash realized, “Marxus has such herbs!? Here!?”

“Yes, or did...depending if the Room of Secrets was undamaged by the blast throughout the study.” Azir worried.

Natash said nothing, grabbing a test-tube rack holding 12 empty corked tubes.

“What are you doing?” Azir inquired curiously.

“What does it look like!?” Natash announced, “You stay here and I’ll go find the herbs needed and before you ask…” she interrupted his attempt to speak, “I know what I’m looking for. No arguments.”

“None, but hurry.” he pleaded.

She grinned giving him a quick kiss before teleporting.

“By the Elder Jinn, let this work.” Azir prayed then turned away, entering the hall where Jayden stood with three laboratory technicians Doctor Matthews had sent, “When my wife returns listen to anything and everything she instructs, understand?” he continued, receiving eager nods in agreement, “Good. I have things to tend to in the village for repairs, so excuse me.”

“Yes, Sir.” the staff nodded then watched as Azir elegantly strode down the hall; his tunic flowing behind him.


Appearing outside the study, the door hung on its hinges outward; the inside surface still smoking and singed. Natash carefully crouched around the door, entering the study where she froze, gasping in disbelief.

“By the Elder Jinn…” she whimpered, glancing at the destruction that was once beautiful and lively.

Everything from the walls and floors, glass windows and furniture, books on their shelves, desk, computer and artwork was no more; burnt to a crisp and ash or melted in place. The rubble laid scattered everywhere making her footing unsteady as she paced across the room. The bookshelves were bare with not one book surviving the blast; even the hidden door leading to the corridor and room of Secrets was damaged as it hung pushed forward. Its seal and mechanisms melted in place but left a space barely big enough for Natash to squeeze through and once her feet echoed along the stone corridor, the stone continued to sizzle. Turning to her right toward the stairs leading up to the Room of Secrets, they too were damaged and melted. She frowned then appeared on the top step that creeked beneath her weight. Even the door to the room was singed with a massive dent on its surface with no lock.

She carefully placed her hands upon the door that still felt warm, speaking to the energy behind and within and answering her plea, the door slowly but barely opened with a lively moan. Her eyes quickly scanned the room before entering, and was relieved that no damage was done inside.

“Thank you.” she whispered then scampered across the room toward the Record Book, flipping through its pages cataloging everything until finding the page listing all known and unknown herbs, “Yes, got you.” her eyes skimmed all the shelf numbers and tapping the book, she skipped across the room on the other side toward the glass enclosed shelves, scanning all the labels pasted on the jars.

She bit her lip, carefully removing the necessary herb jars from their place then quickly removed pinches of herbs, placing them inside the empty tubes then corked the tops; eight tubes filled. Once returning the jars to their shelves, she bowed her head in respect thanking the energies for providing them then turned, leaving the room that immediately sealed itself behind her. She stood on the top step glancing down, taking notice of the 18 foot drop and being an athletic Nubian woman, she jumped, landing rough but powerful. She shook it off as she turned her head upward, glancing at the height then swiftly exited the corridor and study, returning to the hospital.

Jayden and the other lab technicians waited for her return and grew startled when she suddenly appeared in a bright green flash; holding the rack of herbs in hand. They quickly rushed around the laboratory, immediately beginning to prep the herbs for the antidote. The nurses listened to her precise instructions; crushing the herbs, boiling them down into a dark Hazel liquid. Strained and poured into three large glass vials, she held them in her hands blessing their contents. The liquid momentarily glowed before it settled then turning to the staff, she ordered firmly handing the vials to Jayden,

“Instruct the nurses to take half a syringe of the antidote and inject it into her IV every eight hours.” she watched as he nodded, “Remember, only half! It’s very strong. Now go…” she turned him around, rushing him toward the door. She sighed as she leaned her hands on the ledge of the counter, leaning her body forward and head held low. She closed her eyes then began cleaning the table clean of the mess but the technicians stated they’d clean it. She hesitated then waved her hand into a fist; the table cleared and spotless as it was before use. She smiled at the technicians who grinned, admiring her use of quick magic then she too, exited the laboratory, strolling down the hall.


Erik and Caleb turned their heads, watching as a nurse rushed down the hall toward the Keeper’s suite, carrying a syringe and vial.

“Hey, what’s that!?” Caleb questioned as she grew closer.

“Hope.” she answered, revealing Natash had brewed an antidote then slipped inside the room, approaching the bed, “Excuse me, Lady D…”

Lady D turned, watching as the nurse approached the bed, standing near the IV line.

“What’s that?” Lady D argued reaching out her hands.

“A cure for the poison, Ma’am…brewed by the Nubian Queen.” the nurse answered.

Knowing who she spoke of, Lady D felt at ease knowing Natash had personally created the hopeful cure that would bring her daughter back to her.

“Please, Ma’am…either wait in the hall or stand by the door.” the nurse instructed, then watched as the mother backed away, slipping out of the room where Erik and Caleb stood behind her, watching through the window.

Hours passed and all anyone could do was wait. Out of all the horrific events that had taken place, good news was relayed that the cure Natash had concocted was beginning to take effect; slowly but effectively. The poison had begun leaving the young woman’s bloodstream but it was the injury everyone worried about, but other news spread that residents and warriors were attempting to restore their homes, village square, vendor displays and rooms at the Inn. Some warriors remained in recovery rooms for their injuries required more care but they held onto their lives.

Lady D strolled the hall when she paused, observing Thomas sitting on a bench leaning forward, rubbing his hands together as he held his head low. She breathed heavily as she approached, greeted by Louisa who sat alongside her husband.

“Thomas?” Lady D whispered softly, but he didn’t answer.”

“Lady D…how’s Yzavela?” Louisa asked with great concern.

“So far, she seems to be responding to the poison.” Lady D sat on Thomas’ left, “Thomas? Thomas…” but he still didn’t answer.

“He hasn’t spoken a word since they took Anthony’s body to the morgue.” Louisa’s voice cracked; her left hand rubbing her husband’s back.

Lady D saddened once more, knowing the bond Thomas and Anthony shared would be something that would destroy him emotionally.

Thomas just stared at the ground, rehashing the moment when he discovered Anthony on the field with tears in his eyes:

After greeting his family once they had returned to the island and treating his wounds, he immediately returned to the field, searching for his brother. Limping among a chaotic field of burnt corpses, he frantically called out,

“Anthony!? Tony!?” and catching a glimpse of Derek across the field he called out, “Derek, have you seen Anthony!?” the Samoan shook his head. Thomas continued searching beneath bodies piled atop of one another when suddenly, he heard a loud CUCKOO-like whistle and listening to it further, he knew the calls were from Anthony. A whistle they used when they were children, alerting each other of where they were. He returned the whistles and followed their reply.“Tony!?” he shouted eagerly taking notice the whistles grew weaker,“Tony!?”and continuing to search the field through faint smoke and dying flames, he spotted movements nearby and turning his head, squinting his eyes, there was Anthony dragging himself toward Thomas who frantically limped in his direction, “Anthony!” he cried and growing closer, Anthony laid on his stomach.Thomas fell to his knees as he gently lifted Anthony’s upper body leaning him against his chest in a sitting position. He examined Anthony’s major injury; a large gaping stab wound through his leather armor penetrating his heart.

“Thomas...Tommy…” Anthony whispered, “is that...you, brother?”

“Yes, Tony...it is.” Thomas cried as he held on tightly to Anthony’s right hand, “Anthony, what happened!?” he listened to shallow breaths then raised his gaze pleading, “HELP...HELP!” and sooner after his voice cried out, fellow warriors huddled around knowing there wasn’t much that could be done. Even Derek affirmed there wasn’t much time left.

“I was…” Anthony attempted a reply, couching a mouthful of blood which splattered down his chin, “trying tohelpourmen whenNathan…” and glancing up into Thomas’ face, he noticed tears running down his face.

“What about Nathan!?” Thomas questioned.

“Nathan...he’s the one...who…” he flinched, “did this...but...” he took a deep shallow breath, “Tommy…” he stared into his eyes, “I love you, brother.”

“I love you too, little brother but don’t do that…” Thomas whispered then glanced at saddened faces, knowing there wasn’t much anyone could do for he felt Anthony’s body temperature growing colder and observed as his olive skinned complexion turned a pale shade, “aye, Tony…” he placed his left hand over Anthony’s chest wound trying to stop the bleeding.

Feeling the motion of the attempt, Anthony looked from Thomas’ solemn face toward the sky; his eyes staring off into space when he mumbled as his eyes began glazing over,

“I see Ma-ma and...Pa-pa. Oh, they’re so...beaut...” he coughed once more.

Thomas closed his eyes; tears continuing to stream as he stuttered,

“I’m sure they...are, Tony and you’ll be with them soon enough.”

“They’re...calling for me, Tommy. They want me to...go...with them. Can’t you hear them?”

“No, Tony...I can’t.” Thomas cried as he leaned his head against his brother’s; his breathing deepening as he prepared himself for what came next, “Go to them now, little brother...be with our parents and live fully. I’ll…” he paused trying to catch his breath, “join you soon…”

“Tommy…give this…to my Little Yza and tell her I…love her.” Anthony mumbled raising his right hand holding onto a small pendant the young woman admired that hung off his chain.

“No, you tell her yourself, huh?” Thomas refused to believe what was about to happen, “She’d want you to give it to her, and you will.

“No…” Anthony grinned, “I won’t.” he released a heavy breath, “We did good. You and I, eh? Another…Giovanni adventure.” he attempted to chuckle but groaned.

“Aye, another Giovanni adventure you can tell the bambinos about.” Thomas whispered.

“Thomas…” Anthony’s voice rasped faintly.

“Yes, Anthony? What is it?” Thomas cried.

Anthony didn’t have a chance to speak his last words for as he gazed into Thomas’ eyes filled and thick with tears, his own completely glazed over; expression blank and empty as his head titled sideways against Thomas’ chest.

“Tommy, no...please, no…” Thomas cried, rocking his little brother back and forth in agonizing grief. Those gathered around either backed away, allowing him to grieve while others knelt alongside the Italian, offering their comfort by a simple hand on the shoulder while shedding their tears as well. Anthony, regardless of his Lycynian DNA, was liked and respected among everyone who dwelt on the Isle and losing him, would make a big impact on the residents.

For Thomas, it felt like an eternity as he held his brother’s body. Glancing around, time had passed. Lowering his gaze, he studied Anthony’s handsome face; his eyes closed giving the impression of sleep. He smiled, remembering all the times they shared and trouble they ventured into but always had each other.

“Goodbye, Anthony...may you live fully and enjoy time spent with Ma-ma and Pa-pa,” he whispered his prayer then gently laying his body on the ground, he wiped his tears away, “You…” he called for Lt. Forester nearby, “can you make sure his body is taken to the morgue?”

“Of course.” he nodded, then watched as the Italian strolled through the field.

Thomas’s brown eyes leered as his eyes searched for Nathan. Asking around, he tracked him down at the hospital, using the Lycynian as a punching bag and the rage he released, was unlike anything Nathan could have expected or fought against.

His thoughts were broken when he heard Leonus’ gruff voice barking down the hall.

“Thomas?” Louisa’s voice muttered, watching as Thomas stood, walking down the hall ignoring her presence, “Thomas!” he disappeared around the corner.

Louisa and Lady D exchanged worried expressions then Louisa excused herself, following after her husband. Lady D sighed with worry then turned her head watching as Leonus strolled through the hall, approaching her daughter’s suite.

Leonus made eye-contact with the young woman’s mother then nodded, saving face over the fact that he was only there, making sure the deal he had made, goes through.

He leaned against the wall, studying all in a smug tone but was cautious in what he thought knowing there were Demons and half-breeds roaming the hall, “I’M SURPRISED SHE DIDN’T DIE. THAT WOUND SHOULD HAVE KILLED HER AND THEN THE ISLE WOULD BE MINE RIGHT NOW. LITTLE DEMON B*TCH, WHY WON’T YOU JUST DIE, BUT THERE’S STILL TIME YET...STILL TIME FOR ANYTHING TO HAPPEN...” then this thoughts were broken when he heard Derek’s voice bark from behind,

“What the hell are you doing here!? You’re not wounded anymore and certainly don’t care about what happens to the young half-breed, so why are you here!? Gloating?”

“Just thought I’d pay my respects.” Leonus mocked as he turned facing Derek, “That’s all.”

“Jesus f*ck, Leonus...are you really that sick!? You’re here because you’re curious to see if she’ll live or die and you’re not bothering to deny it! Are you that arrogant and hateful toward that girl!?” Derek argued with a growl.

“Think what you want, Derek. But it’s no surprise how I feel.” Leonus glanced around.

Derek growled once more as he stood inches away, face-to-face staring into the alpha’s cold blue eyes seeing no remorse or sadness.

“You know what you can do!? You can go f*ck yourself and thenonce she wakes...I’d love to be there when she finds out what you did.” he warned then pushed past Leonus in a rough disgruntled nudge, making his way toward his friend Lt. Forester.

Leonus remained silent, afraid of what Derek meant by those last words.

What did he know?

What did he see?

What will I say?

Those concerns didn’t matter at the moment for scanning the crowded hall, everyone stood or sat distracted by the constant traffic. He slid his back along the wall in slow steps to his right before standing before the window overlooking inside the young woman’s suite; a nurse inside monitoring her vitals and jotting them down on a clipboard. He waited for her to leave and once she exited, not paying attention to his presence, he slipped into the suite quietly and swiftly. He stood in the doorway, observing the petite woman laying helplessly in the bed and strolling toward the bed, hestared down at her giving me a complete once over. He studied the machines for the longest time then mocked softly,

“My-my...look at all these little buttons and tubes.” he ran his left hand along the tube connected to the ventilator, “I wonder what would happen if one justhappened to come lose or got switched off. Mm, tempting.” then leaned in whispering in my ear, “You should’ve died on that f*cking field, demon b*tch and perhaps I should have finished you off then and there. My mistake.”

Beeps were heard and glancing toward the monitors, he examined them unaware of how to read their numbers. He smirked as his eyes lowered onto her sleeping face and resting his hands above her head and alongside her right hand, suddenly without warning, she grabbed onto his wrist in a firm grip; not easily letting go. Glancing down, he attempted to pull her hand away but as he struggled, he felt an abrupt burning sensation; she left her mark upon his wrist in the form of a right hand and finally pulling his arm away, before examining the burn, he heard the woman’s voice order firmly from behind him,

“What do you think you’re doing here, Leonus!? Get out, or I’ll have you dragged out!”

“There’s that fire, I’m guessing she gets from you.” Leonus mocked as he turned lowering his hand behind his back, observing her standing there with Nick and Steven alongside her, “I was just paying my respects. She’s our Keeper after all.” he continued in mockery, brushing past them and once his bulk exited the room and entered the hall outside, the three of them scampered toward the bed making sure everything remained connected.

“I hate that man, but he terrifies me.” Lady D sat, “I don’t want him near or in this room again. Steven, will you make sure that’s taken cared of?”

“Of course.” Steven nodded then stepped outside, speaking with Azir who offered guards outside the suite.

Nick remained behind, standing behind the young woman’s mother glancing down at his friend’s petite form hooked up to the machines. He reached out gently holding her hand then glanced over his shoulder hearing Caleb’s voice calling out his name, needing his assistance in the square.

“Go, sweetie…it’s alright.” Lady D urged, “Go…”

Nick smiled then quietly left the room.


Molock had returned to Hell in a rush, appearing in the room of souls with no name; Lucifer eagerly stood alongside him. He shifted his feet; hands crossed behind his back.

“Release him.” the King of Hell instructed powerfully.

Molock nodded then took a step forward, releasing a special and long awaited soul from the ancient box he carried. They watched as a black essence escaped, beginning to take its natural form; Drakuul screaming in pain as he stood with his wound still open and back facing them. He fell to his knees as his screams subsided, remembering how he died and who had tortured him before his requested death. He breathed heavily as he began taking in his surrounding when a males voice greeted menacingly in a deep tone,

“Hello, Drakuul Lexus. Oh, how I’ve waited for you.”

Drakuul turned on his knees; there stood his Reaper alongside another man of striking and sculpted appearance.

“You!?” Drakuul exclaimed, pointing his finger outward, “You!?”

“Me.” Molock mocked with a smug shrug.

“Who are you!? Both of you!? And…” Drakuul stumbled to his feet, “where am I? I demand you to tell me for I have the right to know, NOW!”

“Demand!? Demand!?” Lucifer stepped forward; Molock backing away, “You’re in NO god damn position to demand anyone of anything, Necromancer. But tell me...did you get what you bargained for after selling your soul!?” the demon tilted his head.

“Who are you!?” Drakuul stuttered beginning to grasp his fate.

“I have many names and go by many of them, but only one holds my true name.” Lucifer taunted then watched as the human man standing before him, began piecing it all together, “Mm, there it is.” Lucifer continued, “It’s screaming in the back of your mind, isn’t it!? So go on...say it.” but Drakuul remained silent, afraid of the reality of the situation, pushing Lucifer’s patience to the thin line as he grabbed hold of Drakuul’s head with both hands, “SAY IT!” his grip tightened.

Molock turned his head away, closing his eyes; the effects of Lucifer’s powerful demonic voice tickling his spine. More like chills.

“Luci...Lucifer…” Drakuul rasped, “You’re Lucifer!”

“Indeed, I am. Congratulations. And you…” Lucifer’s grip tightened once more, “are Drakuul Lexus. The Necromancer that had conjured many of my demons and creatures for your gain, but honestly...where did that get you, Necromancer!?” he smiled cunningly as he released his grasp in a rough manner.

“But I...I sold my soul! I should still be alive! That’s...that’s the deal I made for eternal life and unlimited power!” Drakuul argued as he paced, “I shouldn’t be here!”

“Ah, but you see Necromancer...there was a hidden clause in your contract. There always is.” Molock added in a sinister tone as he held his hands out.

Drakuul frowned, afraid of hearing the answer to his oncoming question. Backing away searching for a way out or escape, or even a weapon to defend himself, he asked his question,

“What do you mean clause!? What the f*ck are you talking about!?”

“Although you are, or were, an Immortal, you wanted unlimited power in exchange for eternal life and we gave that to you. Exactly what you wanted.” Molock paused glancing back at Lucifer who studied his soldier with pride, “But...there’s the clause.” Molock continued as he turned his attention back to the Necromancer, “The magic kept you alive for this past century while you were imprisoned.”

“And!?” Drakuul snapped.

“No AND, although there is a BUT.” Molock mocked arrogantly, “Once the Jinn had pierced your flesh with his blade, it consumed all your magic and immortality for that’s what Jinn metal does. Absorbs all magic.”

“Liar! You lie, demon!” Drakuul’s voice shouted loudly, “I’m eternal...I will live forever!”

“Molock.” Lucifer’s voice interrupted, “You’ve said enough. Leave us.”

“My Lord?” Molock questioned as he turned to his Master.

“Don’t make me say it again!” Lucifer’s eyes leered at his favored soldier, “LEAVE US. You have your time given as promised but before you leave, prepare his containment chamber.”

Molock didn’t question Lucifer’s orders as he nodded, swiftly backing away out of the room.

“No, wait! Reaper, please...wait!” Drakuul pleaded but Molock didn’t reply and once closing the door, Molock listened to the torturous screams coming from within; flinching not once.

Lilith strolled nearby when she felt hands grab her petite arms, pulling her aside into an alcove out of sight. She growled as she was pushed against the wall; her tail escaping from beneath her tattered dress.

“Lilith…” Molock growled grabbing her tail with his right hand and her throat with his left, “Lilith, it’s me.”

“If you want it rough, that’s fine with me but give me some warning.” she teased, “But since I know you’re not interested and I can’t touch, much less look at another man without risking my life, do you mind letting go of my tail!?” she gestured at her favorite demonic feature.

“I don’t have time for games! Now where is she!?” Molock scolded, releasing her tail.

“Safe. For now. The Nubian queen created an antidote, but it’s a shame you couldn’t have been there during any of it. You could have saved her life the moment she was injured.” Lilith revealed.

Molock grabbed her tail once more squeezing it tightly until Lilith whined in discomfort as she felt the stinging pain run up her connected spine.

“Don’t think for once, you demon b*tch...that I haven’t thought of that! Because if I had, none of this would be happening!”

“Careful, Molock...acting like that around here, will get you into a load of trouble because remember...love or anything close to it, gives off a scent that every demon here will catch and not even Lucifer could save you from them.” Lilith taunted.

Molock growled as he leaned in whispering in her ear,

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand what it means to love, so don’t badger me about things you’ll never understand and if you think what you have with our Master is love, or if he cares even a hair about you!?” he laughed in mockery, “You’re more delusional than I thought, so don’t threaten me.” he pushed her back against the wall once more before releasing her, leaving red hand markson her arms.

“HELLO!?” a female voice called out from a void, “HELLO!?”

“Mm, that would be her.” Lilith whimpered as she arched her back, “Have fun…” she chuckled then disappeared.

Molock growled then glanced around, making sure prying eyes didn’t observe his private encounter with Lucifer’s Queen but eyes watched; from the shadows where unseen creatures dwelt.

“I’M COMING, YZAVELA...I’M COMING, MY LOVELY...” Molock thought then moved on, quickly fulfilling Lucifer’s orders.

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