Banana Republic VII

Atop the Shin Pavilion, the tallest building within the island, rested a handsome young woman atop a hammock tied between the bounded hands of two struggling demons. Her flowing blonde hair hung past the net as her lithe form swung precariously a few feet up in the air.

The serene scene, save for the sweltering forms of the post-like demons, continued on for a few minutes. Enjoying the refreshing breeze of the cold ocean air and the calming sound of the avian natives that soon squawked their last chirp before being eaten by the hungry maws of the monstrous inhabitants of the island.

But, as all things should be, tranquility disturbed itself in the manner befitting that of demonkin. A smoke signal, dark red in hue, invisible to the naked eye, soared through the air, signifying the arrival of an important guest.

A guest Dagon herself had invited.

Seeing the smoke signal, the young blonde woman, a vessel for a Prince of Hell that liked to masquerade as an ingenue, opened her eyes, revealing the dark voids that used to be eyeballs.

A devious smile on her face, one that instilled terror in the hammock carriers on each of her side.

Without a single word, her form gracefully glided out of the hammock and strode near the balcony that overlooked half of the island, smelling the fresh air before removing herself from the room.

The restless dark eyes of the two demons heaved a silent sigh of relief and exhaustion as they slumped back into the ground the moment she had left the premises.

But before they could truly rest, the door suddenly opened and Dagon re-entered, a slight smile on her face.

"I'm gonna need you for this." She said, her voice sweet yet stern.

The demons felt as if their very essence were being twisted in writhing agony, their vessels hunching in physical pain. They tried to please their master, pleading mercy, but that was before every orifice in their body gushed out viscous, dark liquid.

She took out a crimson ruby necklace from within her ample bosom and whispered in the air. "Come."

As if obeying her words, the liquid flowing down their bodies turned into billowing smoke, cracking open their jaws as the smoke circled around Dagon's form before entering the ruby and darkening the very features of the gem.

The vessels of the demons slumped back to the ground, dead from their years of indentured service.

Dagon smiled cheerfully, closing the door and making her way to the bottom of the pavilion.

She had built this island as a sanctuary against the oncoming storm, protected by a coven of Borrowers and fully accustomed demons with compatible meat puppets.

She spared no expense and favor in bringing about her own demesne, even going as far as to find a spare vessel in case any shenanigans happened in the midst of the brutal fighting.

Although their lord and creator, Lucifer, had voiced his own plan, his escape and eventual resurrection, the choosing of his own vessel, and the war against Heaven itself. Their own soul and flesh had to come first, for, after all, they were demons; greed and chaos were second nature.

It was only the most loyal infernal zealots that still had delusions about the coming of the Apocalypse. Azazel was one, alongside Lilith, the bitch, and Alistair, whose interrogation techniques were second to none.

Unlike them, she had prepared for the war in other, less proactive, ways. For this was the onslaught of a long-standing reckoning of which she, by no means, wanted to be a part of.

Even her other siblings partook in her glass of rebellion, but, unlike them, she had a reason as to why.

The sight of a dozen demons surrounding a gilded throne severed her musings, her mere presence brought an oppressive pressure that shook the room with nervous glances and awkward gulps.

Her smile widening as she took her seat atop the ornate throne, her elbows resting atop an arm as she held her chin gracefully. Her form, albeit secreting a devious aura, was a mockery of graceful elegance that exuded a stately aura.

She was a Prince of Hell, one of the original demons, a powerful beast in her own right.

"Let him in."

●●●●●

He had deemed the island to be an indomitable fortress, at least compared to his paltry powers.

He was like a frog that had escaped his well, only for the grand world to reveal itself to him and show off its might.

The demon guards and Borrowers alone could decimate him and his team in the matter of seconds; If he were to include the various infernal and enochian sigils engraved in every square inch of the island, then there wouldn't even be a fight.

From what he's seen and what he knew of Dagon, the island seemed to be her last line of defense if the demonic faction were to lose the war or if Lucifer lost the initial battle against Micheal.

He knew how zealous demons were towards Lucifer and treated him as the strongest of the four, but the smartest of them knew that a possibility existed in which Micheal gained the approval of their Father.

'I guess that's why the other three didn't help Azazel. They were too busy saving their collective asses. That certainly works for me, to be honest.'

Bancletus, the demon who introduced Irwin and Charlotte to the island, provided his presence as a tour guide as they traversed the island rim, giving out pertinent but shallow information regarding the various facilities seen around the ocean-side fortress.

Irwin had been right on the money in the ritual stone circle. Even from afar, he could still sense the lingering vapor of magik, one that he had been recently entranced with.

"You bagged an angel?" He asked, almost reflexively. Curiosity seemed to get ahead of common sense.

Bancletus shared a look at Sibili, before snorting in a way that conveyed condescending amusement. He had already deduced that Sibili was merely a field agent, a grunt to be exact, for Dagon and Bancletus were more of an upper management demon.

It seemed that even on Earth, demons could not escape the ruthlessly enforced magocratic hierarchy.

"A cherub, one that tried to make an undercover witch under our command, falls in love with her target." Bancletus chortled as it recounted the ways the cherubim pleaded for mercy before binding him to his eternal slaver.

Numerous thoughts ran through Irwin's mind, sweat dripping from his forehead as his gaze turned towards the sky. The sight of the shimmering field of purple energy surrounding the island in a dome-like structure caused him to be startled.

"I see." Clarity soon relieved his brain of the massive amount of questions, but it was, unfortunately, replaced by the intrusive thoughts of extreme danger and regret.

If he was right, then that shimmering field was a large-scale version of the Ward of Obviation, one that worked on Human and Infernal Magik and consumed far more resources than he could ever afford.

"What do you see, Richard?" Bancletus asked with a smirk, as if it was a normal way to respond to the sight of the island's defenses.

Irwin took his time to answer, glancing at Charlotte, whose defenses were as tightly guarded as those of the island.

"We can't escape." His reply caused a knowing laugh out of Sibili and Bancletus.

If they had the ability to capture, restrain, and bind an angel, even one as lowly and powerless as a cherub, then it would take the best of his and Charlotte's ability to get off the island without the Dagon's permission.

Instead of responding to his statement, the demon merely continued on its tour, circling the island for an hour. It was by the end, when their group had reached the runway once more, that the demon nodded in the air.

"It seems that Lord Dagon is expecting us. Let us go to the Shin Pavilion."

Astride a black SUV and accompanied by a military jeep on each end of the road, they entered the main compound and caught the sight of a fully equipped military compound under the guise of a self-sufficient village.

From what he could tell with his magical senses, there were at least ten times as many witches, thrice the numbers of monsters, and at least a dozen demons more powerful than Sibili that lived under the illusionary wards embedded within every nook and cranny.

'They could take over a small country with the firepower here. What happened to her in the later seasons? Damn it. Did the angels raid this place after the third season? If so, then the rise of Lucifer caused them to get their ducks in the row.

That must be why they were so short on manpower. What with the breaking of the Seals and pre-raiding the compounds before the start of the war. 

At least now I know one of their locations. Even if they have the capabilities to move the entire island, or risk abandoning this base, I would have the knowledge of its existence.

Should've brought my fucking sword.'

He sighed inwardly, his thoughts being severed by the words of Sibili.

"We're here." It said. "Relish the image, witch."

Seeing the building up close was a rare and wonderful sight. 

He missed the paper lanterns engraved with slight enchantments, illuminating the whole verdant courtyard without being hurtful to his eyes. The wind chimes, differing in hues and musical tone, sang like a canary in love, enchanting even the most savage monster within the area.

He invigorated his magical power, just enough to sense the hidden sigils. Although he didn't get any details, just the mere brightness on each panel of the paper walls and wooden columns gave him an idea of how powerful they were.

Since they had to walk on the cobblestone path, Irwin felt the serene ambience that differed wildly from the wild yet contained nature of the outer island and compound. It was as if he had stepped into a newer, more peaceful world, just after stepping into a magical one.

The main door parted in the middle, revealing the monstrous figure of the Prince of Hell, Dagon. Her long blonde hair, ample breast, unblemished skin, aquiline nose, piercing blue eyes, and gentle smile confused Irwin, making him speechless for a moment.

"Cat got your tongue, Richard?" Dagon laughed coquettishly, hiding her mouth behind her twee hands.

"I, uh, I just expected something more… ugly."