Tim Marquitz: Echoes of the Past

“My name is Hasstor. I bear word from Lucifer.”

It took a second for the words to sink in, rattled as I was from being dragged from Earth and dumped into some backwater, cross-dimensional cesspool. Just a few minutes before, I’d been spending what I thought was my last minutes alive with Karra and mourning the loss of Abe, when the demon Xyx and his flunkies, black and White, showed up. Now, here I was, standing before their master. I don’t know what I was expecting from this forced meeting, but it certainly wasn’t a message from my not-so-dearly-departed uncle.

There was fog in the air and it made my eyes water. Xyx, Black, and White had all faded into it after dropping me off. They were pretty much out of sight, out of mind because all I could do was stare at Hasstor. There was no mistaking the guy was a demon, of some kind, but I felt a strange reverberation against my senses. It was something I couldn’t put my finger on. His power was subdued, held in check by sheer will and the smoke that clung to everything like a bad credit score, but it was clear he had plenty of it. As it had when I first encountered Xyx, the wash of Hasstor’s magic rolled over me and made my stomach twist. Whoever he was and wherever he came from, he sat at the top of the food chain.

His cold, lidless gray eyes didn’t waver as he stared back, waiting for me to respond. Unlike Xyx, Hasstor didn’t hide behind a cloak and mask. In fact, he left nothing to the imagination. Naked as the day he was hatched, Hasstor stood before me like he was posing for the cover of Demonic Playgirl. His skin was an abyssal obsidian, so black it shimmered with a radiant blue in the dim light. Possessed of four powerfully built arms he stood with two of them upon his hips, drawing awkward attention to the monster between his legs; and I really mean monster.

Nearly as big as his forearm, the thing squirmed and hissed, silver teeth gnashing in the gaping maw that split the tip. Tiny black eyes dotted the serpentine length like a bad case of the clap. They blinked in alternating order, but kept their gaze on me the whole time. It made me more uncomfortable than watching an episode of Glee.

I tore my eyes away and followed the swirling trail of puckered scars that covered Hasstor’s flesh. They stood out, just a shade lighter than the rest of his skin. There were too many, and they were too intricate in design, to be anything but ritualistic. I didn’t have a clue what they meant, but I spied some similar to the ones I’d seen on the containment case in Lucifer’s chambers. There was a subtle difference to them that made me think it was a different language, but it gave me the idea that whoever-whatever-had been locked up inside it wasn’t from Earth.

Finally back at Hasstor’s hairless face, pug-nosed and square-jawed, I found my voice. “Uncle Lou sent you, huh?” My cheeks warmed as I thought about my uncle. Had Hasstor shown up a couple of months back, I’d have thrown a party to hear from Lucifer, but now? Not so much. There were too many questions.

Hasstor nodded, his upper lip pulled into an amused sneer.

“You’d think if this was so important he would have come himself.” No clue who Hasstor was, I wanted to be sure he was legitimately delivering a message from my uncle before I decided how I would deal with it.

The low rumble of a chuckle slipped from him. “Lucifer told me you would be difficult, Triggaltheron, so he provided me with the means to convince you.”

I cringed a little at the use of my full name, but given all the folks who’d been spitting it out lately, I was kind of getting used to it. Shrugging it off, I watched as he held out his upper right arm, his clawed fingers spreading open before me. Bright against his dark skin was a red dot of liquid that could only be blood. My senses fluttered against it expecting the residual feedback of my uncle’s power, but that wasn’t what I found.

My legs buckled and nearly went out from beneath me as the essence of the blood hit home. The air cooled in my lungs and I held my breath, my heart thumping a cannonade. I reached out and scooped the drop from Hasstor’s palm and cradled it in trembling hands. It wasn’t Lucifer’s blood.

It was my mother’s.

“How-“ I started, but the words clung to my tongue.

“These are dark times. Lucifer knew you might question a messenger bearing even his essence, but he had no doubt you would heed the word of one who bore that of your dam.” I felt the weight of his eyes on me, though I couldn’t tear mine from the tiny drop of my mother’s blood. It was the closest to her I’d been since I laid her to rest outside her ancestral village. “Is this true?” he continued.

I nodded.

“Good, for I have little time before my presence is noted. The conflagration in your Heaven was the perfect cover for my arrival. Despite my power being depleted by the long journey, those more mystically adept will soon see beyond my weakened veil now that the conflict is over and their attention is not drawn elsewhere.”

Only half paying attention, I licked the blood from my palm. Warmth flooded my mouth, my tongue going numb as the essence of my mother’s spirit filled me. It was the tiniest of sparks, but it filled my head with memories that had been dormant for centuries. I could hear her soft voice and smell the subtle waft of the flowers she used to scent her bath. As morbid as it sounded, I wished I had more of her blood so I could hold onto her longer. I missed my mother. She was the only person in my life who truly cared about me without qualification. She loved me because I was her son. That was enough for her. It was everything to me.

Hasstor grunted, ruining my reverie, and drew my attention to yet another of his clawed hands he held out. In it was a thick tome. It was covered in the strange symbols Hasstor wore on his flesh and looked as though it was made of some ancient leather. I suspected it was a hide of a more human nature, the writing like raised scars. With only a little hesitation, I took it. I didn’t need to examine it further to know I wouldn’t be snuggling up with it in front of the fireplace.

“What is this?”

“Lucifer wished it passed on to you, but he gave no specifics as to its nature or its intended use. He said to hide it where no eyes may see, and that you would know what he asked of you.”

That was a pretty clear allusion to the God-proof room in Lucifer’s chambers. He didn’t want anyone to be able to track the thing. I nodded to Hasstor, not really happy about another mystery, but I hoped the book might help translate the spells on the broken case and give me some clue as to who had been locked up inside it.

“Is there anything else?”

“Yes.” Hasstor drew a step closer. I had to resist the urge to step away from little Squirmy. “He wants you to know a war is being waged beyond your universe. God and Lucifer fight together to repel the enemy that threatens all of existence, but Lucifer fears the battle might reach Earth before the war is concluded. He asks that you find a way to prepare for its coming, or at least warn those who might stand in your planet’s defense should Lucifer not be able. If Earth falls, it may well become a foothold behind allied lines that might lead to the defeat of God.”

Hey, look at that; bad news. How unexpected. “What are we in for?” I really didn’t want to know, but what the hell? I’m a glutton for punishment.

“I am permitted to say little of the nature of our enemy, but so you understand the gravity of what may come about, your universe was only the most recent of God’s creations, and far from the most evolved, or the most dangerous.”