Cemetery Summons Ch. 27

But, if Dalaria had given up, then it was all the better for Jack. He wouldn't have to risk any more friends to see his lovers again. He smiled a little and Ekana elbowed him in the ribs. He just waved her away lazily and looked ahead at the large mass of Blackhoods.

"Don't even think about doing something you shouldn't," Jack warned.

"Why not? You've always been worth the wait and energy I use to get you beneath me. Or that one time I got you on top of me."

"Now isn't the time," Jack said, swatting her hand away.

"It's always time with Anathane, or Anatithenai. Why isn't it with me, or Nyx, or even Volna? Why do those two get special treatment and not us?" Ekana whined, opting to grab his hand and hug it between her breasts rather than attempt to fondle him.

"Because I can control you three," replied the incubus. "I can't even begin to stop either of those two. I mean, look what happened when I did stop Anatithenai. It ended up making me look like the bad guy and I had to go apologize."

"You think you can control me?"

"Well, at least I can stop you for a while until I can get help."

"Oh really?" Ekana yanked him to the side and pushed him to the ground, holding his arm behind his back. She sat on his back and pushed his head against the stone floor. "What makes you think that you can control any part of me? I have my own desires, my own wants and needs to be satisfied. And calling you 'master' is not one of them. I don't submit to you: you submit to me."

"Blackhoods, get her off me," Jack said. Immediately, the Blackhoods grabbed Ekana and pulled her off his prone form with a great deal of effort. The succubus lashed out in all directions, but the number of bodies against her was simply too much, and she resigned herself to being dragged away from Jack and stood back up nearby.

"Fucking prick," Ekana spat.

"Well, I can still keep you off me for a little while," Jack said. "Now let's go. The sooner we end all this, the sooner Grymir takes back the Blackhoods for you." At that, Ekana smirked.

"Oh, you're good at getting girls to do what you want. But I know better. As soon as this is over, I'm never getting another chance at you. Not a single second of time. Nothing, because my sister, those two twins, and Anathane are gonna hog all your time and never let you out of their sight."

"I'll pay you back if we make it through this, Ekana."

"I don't take cash or cards. I only take big, hard cock. And I'll need a lot of it."

"I'll let you debate the terms with everyone else once we all get back together again, alright? There's gonna be a lot of under-the-table dealing from me to get everyone satisfied. Fuck everything, I'm not looking forward to it."

"Does under-the-table mean that your four won't know about it?" Ekana perked up, back to her scheming and not-so-subtle advances.

"That's how I see it being."

"Then just let me tell you, there's a lot of things you're going to do for me before my debt with you is finished. All the teasing and torture you've put me through over the past month. You've got a lot to pay for." Ekana laughed at the look that spread across his face. Jack groaned as he realized that everyone else was probably going to be the same way. Paying them back could take weeks, if not months of his time! He tried to ignore the thoughts roaming around his head of what repaying them for their help would be like.

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Maashen looked at the phalanx of soldiers before her. Dalaria's best and brightest were here. Two jailers, almost a hundred greatswords, a thousand others. She even had several hellbores and their masters here to fight for her. With this force, Maashen concluded that she had a decent shot at claiming this boy's life and escaping intact to get her payment.

She only hoped that these men would fight smarter than the others. Even with Dalaria's carefully-planned defense and unimaginably complete knowledge of the Second Palace, the enemy had broken through her forces like a scythe through dry wheat. They hadn't attacked every way in; they had blasted through one and crawled through every undefended place there was.

Every cross-section that had been garrisoned had been ignored. Defenses had been bypassed with inexplicable ease. And worst of all, those places that had been fortified and attacked, had been wiped out in seconds. Anatithenai had done in almost a thousand of Dalaria's soldiers on the onset of battle, and had undoubtedly rampaged farther into the fortress by now, racking up a streak of kills as well.

Maashen sighed and readied herself for the battle that was pounding on the center doors. The rune-bound, iron door was warping already. For ancient magic, the runes were surprisingly weak. A steady drizzle of water was coming under one of the doors as well. Anatithenai was trying to break through, but the doors were holding...for now. She didn't know how long it would take the slime to break down the doors, but it wasn't going to be soon if things kept on as they had been.

The iron doors straight ahead lurched violently and then their hinges cracked. The phalanx closed formation tightly and the doors began to lean inward. Two warlocks began chanting their spells and the room grew darker a few shades. The great chandelier above dripped blood wax at an alarming rate as the chanting grew faster and louder. The doors shook and one of them began to tumble.

The leering faces etched into its surface screamed for help as the door began to fall. It was a slow process. It listed back, and claws reached from its face, chained bodies they were connected to screeching in terror and anguish. The door, itself a living being, was giving one last breath of life to make known its innermost fear and hatred.

It crashed to the ground with a colossal crash and the ground shook violently. Several demons were thrown off their feet and the hellbores threw their heads back and howled in pain, their ears thrust straight back. The Maashen's hair was blown back and she unsheathed her blade.

She had used it earlier in one of the cell blocks after its prisoners had been released. It hadn't been a long battle, but it had been brutally efficient. Maashen did not play with her foes. She killed them. She was an assassin, and nothing was going to stop her from obtaining her vast fortune after this battle.

She just needed to search for a white demon. That meant white eyes. White eyes, wings, and tail. Grymir's troops charged headlong into the ordered phalanx and they were cut down instantly, silently allowing themselves to be sheared to pieces and blasted with unholy infernos of phosphorescent light and flames. The soldiers and warlocks knew their business well enough.

The room suddenly filled with the clamor of battle, and everything turned into chaos. Lines of armored soldiers fought against an unorganized horde of black shapes with claws and teeth and silent, malevolent eyes. The greatswords tore great holes in the advance, and were aided and defended by spears, who wove nimbly between each heavy blade to stab at those who had found a way past the massive weapons tearing their comrades to pieces.

Maashen took her place near the entrance of the main doorway, off to the left with the archers. From above the battle and out of the melee, she could easily locate and kill the white demon that would soon enter the battle with but a single line to see. She didn't think things could be this easy. If she could leap from here on top of him, then she could split his soul from his body instantly and with no fight from him or his comrades.

She looked at her sword, Tsathangaus, meaning Soul's Will in a language long forgotten by any tongue of man. It had been a great many years she had found her situation so dark that Tsathangaus needed to feel the flesh of a living creature. She had never sharpened it, and for good reason too.

The blade hungered for souls to split from their bodies. Tsathangaus was one of the few creations in heaven that had descended to hell with the angels of old. After Lucifer's fall to hell, many of his closest comrades had brought with them weapons of unimaginable power and destruction, once wielded in service of God. Through different circumstances, the weapons had either been lost or stolen or looted from the angels after their deaths. Some of them, however, managed to find new owners.

Tsathangaus was one such weapon held by an angel. It had once seen battle for years on end with no rest or mercy from flesh and bone and steel. In Maashen's lifetime, she had only ever had to use it three times, this being the third. Tsathangaus was dangerous. One prick of the finger, one wayward slit in the skin, and one's soul would be torn from their body and be destroyed forever. And with every slain foe, Tsathangaus' hunger grew exponentially.

Few weapons, even ones so ancient, had a will of their own. Maashen could feel hers, however, writhing in agony over the proximity of souls and her not bringing it to bear upon them. The assassin steadied herself as the battle below raged even more fiercely, wave upon wage of black shades descending upon the steadfast lines of Dalaria's troops.

Soon though, a dark succubus with skin as black as midnight and a blue demon emerged from another doorway and met face-to-face with another full line of troops. With them came more of the shades and several more succubi and incubi, but the lines held. When was this white demon getting here? Was he going to wait until the battle was finished before he made his entrance? Maashen had seen more than one commander do that. It was embarrassing to watch it happen too. To kill someone so spineless-

Tsathangaus jumped forward and thrust at the air of its own volition, shocking Maashen. She had never seen it so eager as to control her body before. Greater demons hadn't forced it like that. Maashen paled at the thought of something so powerful that it could make her sword yearn for its soul specifically.

She looked out into the sea of black warriors and found the warrior.

It was the white demon. Maashen's lips split into a grin and she put a foot on the edge of the balustrade before her. She raised her blade with both hands and leapt from her place above the white demon, ready to strike down at him with all the force she could muster. She plummeted to the ground toward him, a gleam of battle lust in her eyes.

He looked up while she was falling toward him, and raised his blade to block hers. Their weapons met with a clash of steel and Tsathangaus screeched in horror. Its surface grated against the hooked blade of the demon's sword and they parted. Maashen's sword cleaved a dozen of the shades in twain and they disappeared in wisps of smoke, as if they had been nothing but illusions.

She turned to the demon and found him already stabbing at her with his long sword. She parried and lashed back, but he twisted out of the way and shouldered her to the side. She cut down a score of the shades as they neared her. Arrows felled more of them and the larger part of the force diverted from her to the phalanx ahead of them.

She was left with something akin to single combat with the demon. Burning white eyes glared at her, while his blade struck with all the force of a god's hand. She parried, but Tsathangaus cried in pain and hatred at the touch of the masterfully crafted blade the demon held. It was enough to make hers recoil painfully, so it must be powerful.

Maashen pressed the attack and came closer and closer to striking the demon. Although it would do no physical damage beyond a flesh wound, her blade would rend the soul of the demon and send it skyward with a shriek, and then it would disappear forever. She grinned wickedly. A few more strokes, and then he would be gone forever and she would have all she could ever ask for waiting for her. Even if Dalaria was defeated, Satan would most certainly side with her and bring her back to power, allowing her fulfill her obligation to pay the assassin for killing this white demon.

Maashen felt another demon on the approach and forced all her weight onto one foot. She ducked a blow from the white demon, threw her weight forward, and stabbed him through the chest with a single blow. Her blade passed harmlessly through his body and protruded from his back. Maashen watched his eyes flare and then burn out.

It was over.

She'd done it! She had killed her target, and now she was going to escape and get her riches with nothing but a few nicks on her arms to whine about! Finally, a lucky break! Nothing had gone wrong this time!

Maashen removed her blade from the demon's chest, leaving a small slit in his skin where the blade had pierced his body. He was very still, dead, yes, but not evaporating or screaming like the others had. They had shrunken down to brittle bone and dry, papery skin. He stood there, empty eye sockets staring at her blankly.

She had heard of a soul fighting to stay rooted in its body, and truly, this must be a show of just that. She could see the flames licking the top of his head, wisps of white plasma trying to reach skyward. Maashen cut down a few more shades and began to run.

It was this easy to kill a man who had commanded an entire army. Maashen heard 'Jack' being shouted over the din of battle, but paid no mind to it. She saw Anatithenai staring at him from across the room, and thought little of the slime as well. Maashen made it back to her own forces and a great roar of approval greeted her wholeheartedly.

She had killed the enemy leader.

But just as quickly as they had risen, the shouts in joy and praise died down. Maashen turned to see something out of a nightmare beginning to form around the demon.

His body, by all respects, was dead, an empty vessel that held no more weight here in hell than a corpse. But behind him flared to life something incredibly powerful. A white shadow loomed over him like a phantom guardian, vaguely shaped like a man with no lower body. Wings spread from its shoulders, and in one hand, a massive blade of ethereal white light shone malevolently.

It was a large parody of the corpse that stood before it. Its eyes turned upon Maashen and the assassin froze. It was terrifying. Something that should never have been was staring at her with such hatred and anger that she couldn't bear to keep its gaze.

The body beneath the phantom filled with life again, and its eyes returned with much the same power as it had possessed before. The white demon parted the phalanx of Dalaria's men with but a wave of his hand. He seduced them with a glance, and they fell before him kneeling, men and women alike. Maashen could see it in their eyes. They had fallen under his influence instantly.

The assassin raised her blade to defend herself, but it was of no use. Tsathangaus refused to even meet her request for blood. She felt it cowering in her hands, afraid of the being that should have been sent into nothingness by its slightest touch. Maashen suddenly realized that she was going to die.

She saw it in his blank expression. She saw her own death awaiting her in one look from not am arm's length away. The shadow shrank back into the demon's body and his eyes showered her body with light. She hadn't seen something so...so...in her entire life, nothing had ever been so...

Beautiful.

Pure, unrestrained beauty. She had never seen something like it before. Something so pure and divine. Two souls bound together in one body. She fell to her knees, tears falling from her eyes. Two souls had joined before her very eyes. Something like this was the stuff of ancient tales, stretching as far back as the birth of the Nine Circles themselves, when souls had merged a diverged at will within the Eternal Sanctum in ecstasy and endless euphoria.

The last thing Maashen saw was the demon's baleful glare as he rammed his blade into the center of her chest.

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Jack growled as he wrenched his sword out of the woman's chest and kicked her to the ground. The dumbfounded and awestricken look on her face didn't disappear, even after she died. Jack looked around, and saw that everyone was staring at him like he had grown another head and it was talking. Even Anatithenai, who was usually level-headed, was completely taken aback.

"What?" Jack asked, turning around to see everyone he had just passed on the ground and staring at him in a different manner than the others. They looked like they were watching their god. Jack stepped back and looked to Anatithenai for help.

"Gods...you..." The slime was speechless.

"What just happened? I got stabbed, felt sick, and now everyone's one the floor. Does anyone want to explain to me what just happened?"

"Hybrid!" Anatithenai shouted, racing over to Jack with her arms forward. Jack barely had time to face her before she slammed into him and wrapped him up in her slimy arms, kissing him all over. "You didn't die! Gods, I was worried!"

"Incomplete boy?" a familiar, soft voice spoke up.

Jack's heart skipped a beat.

"Anathane!" he exclaimed, removing himself from Anatithenai's embrace. He faced her and his heart leapt into his throat. She stood in the broken doorway with a look of sheer and utter disbelief in her eyes. She was crying.

"You just..."

"Anathane, I'm so glad you came! I was worried sick about you!" Jack said, hugging her as tightly as he could. When she didn't return his hug, he grew concerned. "Anathane? What's wrong?"

"You died," she said numbly. "I watched you die. I watched your soul and your body part. You can't be real..." She stared at him like he was going to fade away and be gone forever if she let herself think it was truly him. Jack stood on the tips of his toes and kissed her on the lips softly.

"Was that real?" he asked, smiling.

"Incomplete boy!" she shrieked, suddenly bursting into a loud, emotional fit of crying. "I knew it! I knew you couldn't be dead! I knew you were special. I felt it inside you. You're incomplete! I felt you, everything, your soul, you! You! You! You're alive! Oh Jack, I love you! You're alive!" She cried so hard that her entire body shook with every sob. Jack felt his body being crushed beneath the force of her embrace, but bore it until she had let her emotions wane and the worst of it was gone.

They kissed again, but this time, Anathane was entirely feeling of it. She kissed him so hard that he thought she was going to hit his teeth into the back of his throat with her lips. She withdrew after sobbing a little more and then squeezed him one last time before letting him rest in her arms comfortably.

"C'mon, don't cry," Jack pleaded. "It's alright. I'm fine, see? Everything on me is working just fine. I'm as okay as I can be, and nobody's trying to kill me anymore."

"I watched you die, Jack. How could I not cry? I watched my life and soul drift away in the wind. And I watched it return tenfold. I don't know what to think. I can't stop crying." She wiped her eyes with one hand, but tears continued to flow profusely, covering her face with dark streaks down to her chin.

"But I'm okay now, see? I don't feel so good, but I got stabbed right through the chest and lived, didn't I? You can stop crying. We still have a job to do." Jack pressed his lips to hers and her demonic body made itself whole.

Blue horns sprouted from her head and she roared in pleasure as her tail came to wrap around Jack's arm. Her eyes exploded into two balls of red flames and her skin tinged golden, and began as hard as steel. Jack watched the largest pair of wings he had ever seen unfurl from behind her back. She smiled at him and showed two rows of shark-like teeth and a serpentine tongue in her mouth.

She truly looked like a demon for the first time.

Jack unlocked himself from her embrace and she stood up to her full height. Jack hadn't realized that her horns made her look so much taller than him. Although she was still only about a head taller than he was, she looked huge with her wings flared to either side of her. However, she still had enough sex appeal to drown in.