A Brother Bids Farewell to his Dearest Sister

Ella sat beside Jalen, at the heart of the gathering, while Caleb walked on to the front, where the family of the late Rebecca Theodore sat. With most people seated, the priest assumed the podium beside Rebecca's cream-colored coffin. The priest drummed his finger on the top of the wooden stand, presumably waiting for Elaine. Ella wished the woman would give up her tirade for her son's sake if no one else.

With not much else to do but wait, she turned to her ever-elusive brother. "Where the fuck have you been?"

An old woman seated before them winced from her language.

"Taking care of business," he said.

"Don't give me that bullshi—bull jive, Jalen. You disappeared for almost two weeks. You never pick up your phone. You couldn't even bother to send me a text message. 'Hey E, I've been busy these past few days.' Just that would have sufficed."

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry, E. It won't happen again."

"It better not. Our lives are turning to shit. So we have to stick together." She stared ahead at Caleb, who held his head in his hands. "What do you think we should do about him?"

Jalen glanced at her, then shifted his gaze to the perplexed priest. "Who? Caleb?"

"Yeah."

"There's not much we can do. She is his mother."

"So what?" She turned to Jalen, her gaze stern and focused. "That doesn't mean he deserves to be abused every moment of the day. Jalen, you haven't been present. Do you know how many times I had to come running to take him away before it blew up into something ugly? It can't go on like this."

"You're better off leaving him alone."

"What!" She took a deep breath. In a more measured tone, she said. "How can you say that?"

"It depends on what angle you are viewing the situation from." He paused, preparing his words. "Right now, the underlying issue is his verbally abusive mom, correct?"

"Correct. Plus a landmine of psychological abuse she inflicts on him daily. Also, there is no telling when she could get physical with how much she gets in his face."

"That's terrible. Unsustainable as well."

"You see what I mean?"

"Yeah. But unfortunately, we've got to leave things as they are for now." He pulled out a cream-colored rosary that was half scorched in black. "You remember the demon that trapped me and stole a portion of my power?"

"Yes."

"Well, she is still at large. What happens if she uses him as leverage to get to me and you? What do you think she'll do to him when she finds out he means something to us?"

She locked eyes with Jalen. "You're reaching. That doesn't give us an excuse to leave him."

"No. It's exactly what she did to the priest she manipulated at the monastery. Used his brother's family as leverage to get what she wanted."

She shook her head, staring off in the distance at nothing in particular. "Then that means Aunt Darcy and our cousins are in danger."

"Yeah. That's exactly what it means. It makes me wonder why I've been kicking sand while that demon roams freely after what it did to me."

The priest—fed up with the defiant Elaine, who still stood away from the congregation with her arms folded—began the service.

"All I'm saying is we have to play it smart," Jalen whispered. "Limit your interaction with them for the time being. I admit my fault, E. Every day that demon continues to exist, grates on my nerves and spits on the graves of those good people who helped me at the monastery. It's about time I right those wrongs. Everything else is secondary."

She perceived the chilling waves of emotion radiating from her brother. A kinship formed between them as she remembered the face that was permanently etched in her mind. "Killer Cell must pay for what happened to Rebecca."

Jalen smiled. "Then it seems we both owe debts that must be paid in blood."

The service proceeded without a hitch. Halfway through, Elaine grumbled her way past them to her seat.

When the priest opened the floor for speakers, Caleb somberly approached the podium, clutching his prepared speech. His eyes were moist and red as he surveyed the gathering. It took many minutes for him to utter his first word. Thankfully, everyone was more than patient, including Elaine, who broke down in tears.

"I'm Caleb Theodore and Becca was my big sister." He paused, looking down at his speech. "My protector. My friend… My best friend even though I never acted like it. You were the one person in this world I looked up to the most. I remember when we were kids. When I was thin and frail. When food did not go well with me. You stayed by my side all day. Slept beside me all night. Even when I…

"As we got older, you never changed. When my powers first manifested, so weak compared to yours, I was embarrassed and ashamed. I lashed out and called you names. Yet, you refused to let me feel insignificant, picking me up any time I fell, no matter how many times I wronged you. I miss those days now. I miss you. And I will give anything to have you back. I wish I could have one more chance to tell you how much you inspired me, and how much your unconditional love helped me during my darkest moments. Goodbye, Becca." 

He came down the stand, shielding his face from everyone as he returned to his seat. Ella used her hanky to wipe the tears from her eyes. Why did that day have to unfold the way it did?

"Can you revive the dead?" She asked.

Her brother shot her a bleak look. "It's complicated. If I created her, sure. If she had also died in my universe, there's a chance. The only other possibility is if I was the one to end her life. Then I could bring her back in some other capacity."

"It's okay. I understand."

After the service, the family members shared their last moments with Rebecca before they lowered her coffin into its final resting place. The rest of the attendees gathered around the hole to watch the lowering process.

Jalen tapped her on the shoulder. "Something feels off. Protect everyone if anything happens. I'm going to take a look."

"What?" She looked over her shoulder at her brother. "If something happens, I don't feel confident protecting all these people."

"Well, then protect Caleb. I don't really care about anyone else here."

Before she could whisk a retort to his insensitive statement, Jalen disappeared into the crowd.

"Fuck me," she whined.

"Young woman." The old woman pointed a finger at her. "You need to watch your language. We are in the presence of God."

"Oh, please. God doesn't give a fuck what I say. Trust me on that."

❊ ❊ ❊

Jalen followed the surreal sensation through the well-maintained lawns of the cemetery, past the lone chapel, a myriad of shedding trees, and into the quiet corner where his mother rested. In an instant, that nagging feeling abruptly vanished.

He scratched the side of his head, surveying the nearby surroundings. If this was a ploy by an unknown foe to lure him away from the crowd and ambush him, then they had succeeded. To that effect, he unlocked his life force gates, ready to transform at a moment's notice. After minutes of standing on edge with nothing happening, Jalen shrugged, then observed his mother's headstone. That was when he noticed something out of place.

He had visited his mother many times, so the grounds surrounding him were familiar. However, there was a recent addition in the form of a third headstone sprouting out of the ground between his headstone and his mother's.

His brows arched downward. "You have about five seconds to reveal yourself before I blow you to smithereens."

"Shit. Talk about lacking a funny bone. Didn't even notice the joke I carved on myself." Immediately, the misplaced headstone morphed into a small, blue-skinned demon with wings.

"Prillon."

"In the flesh." The demon bowed. "Miss me?"

He sheathed his hands in his pockets. "What are you doing here?"

"To bring you a message, of course!" Prillon leaped into the air and sailed over to a nearby tree branch. "Why else would someone as important as me grace you with my presence? But I gotta ask, how the hell do you always know when I'm around? As an imp, I possess perfect shape-shifting. And I've had millennia to practice my craft."

"Don't know. I just have a feeling when something's watching me."

Prillon tilted his head to the side, chameleon-like eyes widening. "A feeling? You've got to be yanking my bloody tail. For thousands of years, I have escaped the most dangerous beings imaginable, only to be undone by your gut feeling."

Seconds of silence passed between them before Jalen reminded the demon of his reason for being here.

"Oh, yes." Prillon stood upright in a regal pose. "The illustrious Azazel, Lord of Gula, and Guardian of the Fallen, demands your presence in her realm."

His eyes narrowed. "Demands?"

"Yes. It is an order, new god. Do well to follow it. Your continued existence depends on her decree. Count your fuckin' good graces she has other plans for you." Prillon pinched his thumb and forefinger. "You were this close to being an afterthought scraped off the underside of her boot."

"Is that so? Well, I refuse."

He turned around and strolled away. But Prillon flew ahead and blocked his path.

"Reconsider your decision, new god. There is no need to perish because of pride. Your kind is almost extinct, anyway."

He stepped over the small demon and continued on his way back toward his sister. However, Prillon shot ahead again, this time pushing against his leg.

"Okay! I fucking get it. What's in it for you, right? Name it. Name whatever you want and Prillon's at your service."

He finally stopped. "You just don't get it, do you? I do not dance to the tunes of anyone. Why are you so insistent, anyway? Relay my answer to your master."

"The demon that stole a portion of your powers, I can help you find her."

"And how is that going to make me reconsi… What?"

Prillon showcased his spiky teeth in a wide grin. "You heard me right. You've got a better shot at killing Satan than finding that tsuchigumo if she doesn't want to be found. I'll help you. In return, you follow me to hell when the time comes. What do you say, new god? Is your pride bigger than your need to kill that bitch?"

His life force ran wild, like the atmosphere of a gas giant, at the prospect of holding Jigoku Kumo's lifeless head in his hand. "Fine. You have a deal. Help me find the demon and I'll honor your master's demand."

"Now I love the sound of that. It's like the torturous cries of a thousand souls to my ears. Give me a week to sniff around, find some leads. How do I contact you?"

"We'll meet here. Same time next week."