3 Chapter III

October 1951, Nepal

A crow cawed before it flew over the silent village, the flapping of its wings the only noise that could be heard. Ashes got carried into the air and flames licked the remains of the buildings surrounding a lone man standing in the village. Slitted, violet eyes gazed up towards the sky above, watching how rays of light appeared on the horizon signaling the rising of the sun was near.

Dawn is coming, the Daeva realized, furrowing his eyes against the harsh glare of light against his sensitive eyes. I must hurry.

Alastor glanced back towards the bodies he had carelessly thrown in the heart of the once lively village. The spell clearly stated that sixty-six humans needed to be sacrificed if he wished to talk with Father - who was sealed away in his icy prison in the Void. The shadow demon continued his way, stepping over the severed head of an infant, as he dragged the corpse of the towns witch along with him.

The witch had done well to hide herself from him. But Daevas specialized in tracking, nothing or nobody could stay hidden from them for long. And eventually, he caught the witch. A powerful witch was needed to serve as the medium – dead or alive – so Father could talk back to him, if the connection were to be successful that is.

The Daeva lightly touched the burnt mark on his shoulder the witch inflicted on him while trying to defend herself against him. So far, this mortal has been the first in centuries who managed to wound him in his immortal life.

This better work this time, he thought grumpily. Ever since Alastor found the spell, he has gotten to work, wiping entire civilizations off the map and turning streets to blood while collecting witches on a global scale, but none of the witches were powerful enough to contain the fast magic of the ritual.

So far, they all combusted. This bitch better not explode.

Dragging the mutilated corpse to a muddy field just outside town, he carelessly threw it down. He took one last nervous glance towards the rising sun. If he wanted to perform the spell tonight, he had to hurry. Once the sun rose, his powers got weakened and the angels were at their most powerful. The last thing Alastor wanted is for one of those fiery beings to swipe down and wipe him out of existence. Especially not when he was so close to his goal.

The Daeva kneeled in the ground, drawing all kinds of demonic sigils in the mud using the blood of the sixty-six villagers he obliterated. Standing up once more, he put his bloodied claws together and started chanting in a language unknown to man. His voice rising and falling as he called forth the ancient magic of the darkness that pulsed through his veins like a rampaging thunderstorm. Holding up his hands towards the sky, he kept on chanting as black veins appeared on his arms and energy curled off his body in powerful waves.

The sky roared and the witch's corpse shuddered. Stopping with chanting, he lowered his arms and stared at the corpse in anticipation.

For a while, nothing happened, and the shadow demon grew disappointed in yet another failure, when the corpse's mouth opened wide in a loud gasp for air it no longer needed.

Alastor strained his neck to get a better look. "Lucifer," he spoke to the father of all demons, "is that you?"

"Alastor," a rumbling deep voice spoke back in acknowledgement, using the witch's body as a medium.

"Father, dawn is near," Alastor spoke in a hurry – knowing that Lucifer knew what he was talking about, "please tell me how to free you before the spell wears off."

"The key is a ritual of blood and sacrifice from the Book of Solomon," Lucifer spoke in his deep voice. Blood tickled down the witch's chin, signaling that she wouldn't be able to contain the magic much longer. "It needs to be performed six times a year during the Witching Hour, when the veil between the worlds is weakest."

"For how long?" Alastor asked, nervously glancing towards the rising sun.

"Sixty-six years," was the answer he got. "I will be waiting for you, Alastor. Don't disappoint."

"I won't," the Daeva swore just as the witch combusted in blood and other body fluids, breaking the connection.

The sky above the demon flared up in furious white flames, signaling that Seraphim were about to descend.

A grin formed on his face, revealing his sharp fangs. "You're too late, cloud hoppers." He said, stepping inside the growing shadows and disappearing from the mortal realm once more.

October 2017, Lawrence-Kansas

Amber colored eyes stared up into his own violet ones, begging him not to do it. To put down the blade. He stared down at her unmoving and unblinking.

Alastor almost laughed. Did she truly expect him to show any mercy? When his goal was just before his eyes? She must be stupid, he concluded. At first, he had planned to take the boy, but when the girl started screaming at him – startling him – he had decided to take her instead as a form of payback. Karma is a bitch.

Holding the long, curved blade up in the air, he slashed down in one fluid motion, effortlessly cutting open her throat, blood pumping free. He watched how her eyes widened momentarily in shock before all life disappeared from them.

Dropping the lifeless body to the ground, he stared at the other mortals he and his demons took. They were all dead. Fog appeared and curled around his ankles as the blood of his victims dripped down from the blade's hilt. The Daeva walked towards the middle of the graveyard they were in.

His demons have drawn a sigil in the ground – vaguely resembling a 'Z' – and they stepped back when he arrived, avoiding his eyes and looking down. Standing next to the blood sigil of the ritual, Alastor held the blade up high and started chanting in a language that has not been heard since the dawn of times. His demons started chanting with him, strengthening the magic.

When he spoke the last word, he plunged the blade in the heart of the sigil. The earth shook and cracked open before the eyes of the demons who were watching on in anticipation. Blue-black flames spew up from the cracks and shot into the sky.

A wide grin formed on Alastor's face and he watched how Lucifer himself rose from the Void between the worlds, bringing with him the storm that will force the world upon its knees.

"Welcome back, Father." He said with a feral grin, lightly bowing his head.