Tim Marquitz - Echoes of the Past

Confident enough to shrug off the rest of the wall, I did and got to my feet. My stomach lurched at what I saw. Baalth had been spot on about the effects of the pool on living tissue, only he hadn’t said anything about what it’d do to the rest of the room. It looked like an Oklahoma trailer park in tornado season.

What was left of the bodies on the walls were just chunk of mangled flesh and bone. What hadn’t been ripped loose and added to the clutter of ruin hung like morbid Christmas tree ornaments. They glistened and shined, coated in the fluids that had filled the hoses. Debris was everywhere, pieces of stone mixed with the white of bone and the yellow-green and gray of everything else. It was a Timothy Leary experiment gone awry. Gnarled hands jutted out of the rubble as though they were drowning beneath it. There’d be no rescues today.

I made my way across the wreckage and went to the tank. It looked surprisingly intact considering what it had gone through. Too bad the same couldn’t be said for the space around it. The steps had been blown away and huge slabs of the ceiling had come down, the floor nowhere to be found beneath the gray dust and remnants of the portal device. I dug around where I’d last seen Poe. It only took a few minutes to find him.

I sighed as I cleared the detritus from him.

He was dead.

A rock the size of my head had crushed his ribs and burst his heart. Unconscious, he never had a chance. His eyes were open and stared off at nothing, but his face was set in a serene mask. I hoped he hadn’t felt any pain. He might well have been an enemy, of sorts, but I’d always respected Poe. He’d been a ray of sunshine in Baalth’s organization, and someone I could trust to be true to his nature no matter the situation. We hadn’t been friends, but we could have been. He would be missed.

I sat back, my gaze drifting up to the tub. Nothing moved in it, but I didn’t expect anything to. Baalth had been ground zero. If he got only twice of what we got outside, I was gonna need to borrow a wet vac to clean up the mess. He was dead, too.

All of a sudden, a charred hand clasped the edge of the tub, scaring the shit out of me. Pieces of flesh sloughed off and exposed white bone as the connected body rose up out of the tank. I scrambled to my feet and ran over to help.

Leave it to Baalth to prove me wrong.

I latched onto the extended forearm and pulled as gently as I could. It was like playing tug-o-war with boiled spaghetti. Muscle squished in my grip and pieces of meat and skin peeled away and squished between my fingers, leaving me holding bare bone. Baalth didn’t seem to care. His face was almost completely melted away, leaving only his dark eyes and the slightest piece of skin on one cheek. His grinning skull leered at me as I gingerly helped him from the tub.

Once he was far enough out to lean against the edge, I reached under his armpits and helped the rest of him to clear the edge. Busy with Baalth, I barely had time to cast a quick glance inside. The fluid was gone, apparently burned away, and what was left of McConnell was nothing more than ashes in the vague form of a person. There’d be no coming back this time.

As quick as I could, I clambered down and set Baalth alongside Poe. His skeletal features looked over at his mentalist, and I heard a gurgled sigh slip loose. The last vestiges of the muscles at his jaw tightened before he looked away, the murky pools of his brown eyes settling on me. He opened his mouth and licked his teeth, as though he were looking for his lips. It was strange seeing his pink tongue emerge from the grinning skull of his mouth. His oozing red and black hand reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer to his face. It was amazing enough that he could still move, but there was a hint of strength left in his grip. I didn’t resist.

“See tha-that,” he cleared his throat, sounding the hoarse rattle of a dying breath, and went on. His voice came out slightly stronger, “that Poe is taken care of. Take him to Marcus.”

“Of course,” I answered without hesitation. The fact that his first words, and quite probably his last, were spent on making sure Poe had a proper burial there was no way I could refuse. “I’ll take care of him. Now let me take care of you.” I went to stand so I could retrieve a new vial of Lucifer’s blood, but Baalth wouldn’t let me go.

He pulled me a little closer, shaking his head slowly. “I am beyond your help, or even that of Lucifer.” He knew what I intended and dismissed it. “Only God can save me now.”

The irony was a lead weight in my chest. “But-“

“I am lost, Frank.” His grip tightened on my wrist. “Salvage what you can, and prepare Hell for what is to come. This is what Lucifer would have wanted.”

I never thought I’d see Baalth like this. He’d been emotionally wounded by the excess of power he’d gained from Glorius, and he’d been furious when Lilith had kidnapped his men, his powers out of control, but I’d never seen him hurt; not truly. Here he was, the most powerful demon in our world, and he was dying, killed by his own power turned against him. For all our animosity and ego struggles, it was like losing yet another mentor to the storm unleashed in the wake of God’s disappearance.

Of all the horrible possibilities that could have arisen after God and Lucifer left town, Baalth had managed to hold the chaos down and keep it restrained, if only relatively. What was gonna happen now? Call him evil, a demon in truth, but Baalth was hardly the worst thing to happen to the world. What came after him could only be a nightmare in comparison. With a sigh, I met his eyes. I couldn’t let him die.

“Is this the end?” I asked.

He nodded without hesitation.

“What if I could offer you a chance?”

Baalth’s eyes narrowed as though wondering if I was taunting him on his death bed. “Truly?”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the summoning stone Hasstor had given me, grateful to see it hadn’t been damaged. “If you’ve got nothing to lose, it’s worth a shot.” Fingers circling the odd metal of the stone, I willed Jonas and Ethan to my side.

Not more than a few seconds later, Black and White arrived, appearing across from me. Dressed as they always were in their understated black suits, they looked like a couple of funeral directors. Sadly, it was kind of fitting. They stared at me with uncertain eyes when they saw the ruin around them.

I turned to the pale one. “Black, I need your help.”

He glanced at White, and then to Baalth, before looking back to me. “If you’re thinking we might be able to heal your friend, we cannot.”

“No, I was thinking you might be more useful as an ambulance.”

They both stared at me, no doubt clueless as to what an ambulance was.

I went on, no time to explain. “I need you to transport Baalth to Lucifer. He needs God’s help or he will die.”

“I’m not sure-“

“I don’t have time for this, Jonas. Hasstor told me you would deliver a message to Lucifer for me, if asked.” I pointed to Baalth. “ This is my message. You need to take him, now. Do you understand me?”

White snarled and knelt down beside Baalth. “We understand, Triggaltheron, but what you ask is not easy. Our world is many universes away. Wounded as he is, it is doubtful he will survive the trip.”

“And if he stays here, he’s dead. Seems the better of the two options to at least try, don’t you think?”

“That would depend on who you were asking,” Black answered, “but we will do as you ask.” He dropped down beside Baalth and the two started to lift him.

Baalth waved them off. “Wait…a moment, please. I would speak with Frank.” The two rolled their eyes, but they made room for me at Baalth’s side.