Abandon All Hope
Before entering Eshu’s office, Gabriel used magic to hide his wings. With a circular wave of his hand, a white swirl surrounded them, cloaking them from prying eyes. Maxwell stood, his hands grasped together at his waist, waiting. Smoking a cigar, Eshu stared at the pair, a brown fedora pulled down, hiding his eyes from them. “You know how this works.” Thick white smoke billowed from his mouth and nose as he talked. “It’s a very simple business exchange. You bring to me something I like, and I provide a service.”
Maxwell bit back a remark that would’ve compared the man to a clothing store…an exchange of goods and services. Now was the time for seriousness. “What do you want? Rum, powder, something along the lines of a ceremony in your honor?” Maxwell couldn’t hide the impatience and urgency. “Whiskey? You always seem to welcome some sort of liquid offering.”
Eshu shifted, noticing Maxwell’s attitude, tilting his head, smearing that sinister and deceptive smile across his face. “Don’t flatter me… No. In fact, keep going.” He flicked the ashes off his cigar and into a nearby glass ashtray. “Maxwell, of all people, you should know how this works. You’ve come to me more and more over the years. You’re lucky I even allow it.”
Maxwell’s hands gripped together, waiting for Gabriel to step in. Both brothers had a charm about them, smoothness, but Gabriel could get things done a lot easier than Maxwell. “Now, Eshu, I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.”
“Why do you always have to involve me?” Eshu’s head tilted, making it clear he was talking to the fallen angel standing behind the more charismatic Gabriel. “Why do I have to be so popular with the likes of you?”
Gabriel put his hand on his belt a moment, gesturing with his other hand toward Maxwell. “Let’s be honest about my brother, Eshu. Let’s take into consideration he’s a fallen angel. Yes, those tattoos of his have given him back many of the powers he’d been stripped of, but we both know he can’t communicate as strongly as you. You know you have heard things and will give us that information, but we just need to negotiate on what that thing will be.”
Gabriel then smoothly sat in a high-backed chair across the table from Eshu. He laced his fingers together, pressing them against his top lip. “You know I can get you things, special things that you’ve wanted to get your hands on for a very, very long time. I don’t have to say what those things are because you’re smart enough to know.”
Gabriel’s face now held a sinister smirk. His mouth opened wide and he relaxed back into the chair, crossing the ankle of his right leg on the knee of the other. “Now, dear Eshu, Communicator of Spirits, let’s make a deal.”
He knew he had been bested. Eshu continued to smile. His eyes flicked to Maxwell, who had remained quiet during the exchange. Eshu withdrew the cigar from his mouth. “Come on now, Maxwell. Don’t look so pouty. I like this angel.” He gestured toward Gabriel with the fingers that held the cigar. Eshu knew Gabriel would be true to his word. Angels didn’t lie unless they were the fallen ones.
Maxwell responded with an eye roll and joined the two of them, sitting at Gabriel’s right. “Kokabiel took Adele. We need to know what he’s planning, who’s involved, and any other details.”
Eshu opened a drawer, pulling out a rolled-up piece of black fabric. As Maxwell fell silent, Eshu unrolled the fabric and spread it out. Taking the cigar from his teeth, he placed it in the ashtray. Methodically, he began placing a cloth, herbs, religious decorations, stones, and hardened melted candles on the table. When he blew over the fabric gently, it began to reveal gold inlay, circles, and lines forming into an X. He continued moving and placing items until the fabric was additionally adorned with unlit, melted candles, stones, and herbs.
He then stood, pushing back his large, throne-like chair. He placed the cigar, almost gone now, between his teeth and inhaled heavily. Slowly, he exhaled, forming the shape of a serpent, slithering over the scene he’d built. Gabriel and Maxwell backed away, letting Eshu work. The smoke moved over the candles, swirling around the design, stones, and herbs. Instantly, the candles flamed up, the design beginning to shine as if lit from within.
Eshu pushed back his brown jacket and adjusted his white shirt as the serpent dissipated, and continued to unbutton enough to show just the top of his black chest hair, and his lips began to move. A low hush of a chant began to form. Suddenly, Eshu erupted with a sudden scream toward the ceiling. The whites of his eyes began to fog, the brown slowly engulfed by it. His mouth snapped shut, his arms rising and backward awkwardly. He was giving himself over to the spirit world, welcoming them to use his thin body to communicate.
Maxwell and Gabriel watched in complete awe, but neither was truly surprised by what this man could do. Over time, Eshu had gathered and collected many names he had been known by. Some believed he’d never been a solid, breathing form; others believed him to be a powerful gatekeeper of the spirit world. However, all believed him to be an influential dealmaker. Eshu continued muttering words, his Haitian accent giving the words beautiful twists. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew over him, tossing his fedora to the floor and exposing his cornrow braided hair. The spirits were accepting of him, blowing him upward with a push. As they took over, his skeleton illuminated under his caramel flesh.
The candles flickered and snuffed out as Eshu’s boots again touched the dark, polished wood flooring. “The battle ahead is much bigger than you think.” Eshu’s lips moved with the voice of many. A legion of spirits was speaking in echoing whispers, using him as their powerful vessel. “Legions are against you. They do not want things to change. Who will win is unknown. Kokabiel, Azazel, Yeqon…” The voices muttered many names, condemning them with slithering hisses, elongating the names like a snake. “The one with many minions… He has her. There is one that will tempt you, try to lure you away, and one has already made his mark upon her. Eshu will aid you.”
As abruptly as the words were spoken, they ended. Eshu’s arms relaxed at his sides, his eyes cleared, and he blinked several times, looking at the two men. “What did they say?”
“Legions are against us,” Maxwell answered. “They told us some important things and said you’re going to help us.”
Eshu appeared unhappy. He didn’t want to help them more than he already had. Begrudgingly, he spoke, “Come on.”
As he watched Eshu solemnly walking towards the door, Maxwell had a realization. Eshu wasn’t in control of the spirits like he had always portrayed. For the first time ever, he felt terrible for him. They were all not without burdens.
Eshu drew the black curtain back and stepped inside, the angels following. Upon the cement floor was a much bigger version of the symbol on the fabric, but this one was surrounded by a circle and engraved. Large candles sat on one side. “I will open the door, but I will not be able to keep it open long without risking the demons taking advantage of the opening. You will have ten seconds, then I will shut the door. I will remain here to seal it, then reopen to let you back through.” He walked the circle, his hand held over it, his fingers moving and disturbing the seal. Looking up, he continued. “The longer she remains…”
Gabriel nodded. He knew what would happen to Adele if she remained there in her current form. Hell was a place for spirits, not bodies. She would most certainly be damned and trapped there. Maxwell was calm and quiet, which disturbed his brother. When Gabriel looked at him, Maxwell’s eyes flicked with gold. The journey was going to be rough, but he had to do it nonetheless. There would be no backing down and no giving up. He had come so far, a little journey into the underworld wasn’t about to keep him from her.
Eshu grabbed a nearby wine bottle, pouring some of the liquid into his mouth. Moving back toward the circle, he sprayed the red liquid over the seal. As soon as the drops hit the symbol, a dark purple swirled, a portal opened, and horrifying screams of the tormented could be heard. Maxwell took a deep breath and ran, jumping into the middle of the blackened pit that had emerged. Gabriel immediately followed, falling amongst the souls already crawling to the opening, trying to escape. With the two angels out of sight, Eshu blew more wine and chanted, slowly forcing the hole closed. Among screams and groans of pain, he pushed the darkness back down, kicking at the hand of a soul that had made it to the top.
“No!” he growled at the disembodied arm, kicking at it again until it released the edge of the portal’s opening. “You shall not pass!” He continued pushing until it closed, and he fell upon the cement, panting heavily, coughing, and grabbing his sides, blood dribbling from his lips. This was a sacrifice for him.
His henchmen came through the curtain and saw him, quickly gathering him up in their strong arms. After they placed him in his throne-like chair, he lit a cigarette, still grabbing at his side with one hand. The exhaustion showed in his eyes as he peered across the room at the doorway that led to the front of the bar. “It is done,” he muttered.
Azazel stood in black leather jeans and boots, a black suit jacket partially covering his shirtless torso. His long, black hair clung to his shoulders, wet and greasy, leaving stains upon the fabric of the jacket. “Excellent,” Azazel spoke, tossing a kilo of white powder to the ground.
“Now, get out…of my house.” Eshu coughed between his words and inhaled once more. One of his men gathered the kilo bag and put it on the table. He began wheezing as he sat back, his guilt now washing over him. An internal conflict began. Was opening the doorway for the angels worth the deal he had struck with the demons?
As he tumbled down the hole, the damned grabbed at Gabriel’s wings, breaking the cloak around them, exposing the white angelic feathers. Luckily, the armor of the feathers held, protecting his inner light. He repeatedly attempted to grab his ram’s horn, failing, the hands of the damned grabbing at his arms and yanking. After several attempts, he regained control and grabbed the horn, lifting it to his lips and blowing an almighty noise. The unearthly blare frightened the souls and they hissed at him, revealing their white teeth and gums as their lips curled back in pain. Many raised their hands to their ears attempt to dampen the noise.
From further down the hole, Maxwell heard the blare and turned around, stuck in the grasps of many. He watched as Gabriel broke free and began to propel forward, playing his mighty instrument to repel the leech-like souls. He grunted as Gabriel ran into him, grabbing him by his arm, continuing to blare his horn. When they hit a hard surface, they slowly rose, Gabriel taking another glance at the hole they’d just fallen through. It had already begun closing behind them, shutting completely.
Both stood, staring out into the vast wasteland of Hell. The ground had fractured in a multitude of cracks, gushing forth rivers of lava that had spread across the land like jagged fingers ablaze, illuminating blackened pools of soot. It was eerily silent, accompanied by the distant screams of those being punished. “Something’s not right,” Maxwell announced to Gabriel, who had never been in such a place. “It’s usually never so quiet.”
Gabriel was still strong and full of grace. “Well, let’s go see them. They seem to be waiting for us.” He began walking down the hill.
Watching his brother move, he looked down and noticed he was standing on thousands of burned skulls. His brows came together curiously. He had always known Hell to be a place of spirits, not skeletons. His fingertips touched one of the jawbones, examining it.
“Wait, Gabriel. Look.”
Gabriel stopped and peered over his shoulder. “What is it?”
“This. Spirits are supposed to be here, not skeletons. This isn’t normal.” Maxwell’s eyes grew wide, realizing these weren’t human. “These are…fallen angels. Usually, an angel will just snuff out. We are energy, not flesh and bone, but when we fell to Hell, we were encased in it…” He hesitated, then looked at his brother. “Something major happened down here.”
Sure of himself, Gabriel continued. “Well, let’s go find out what.”
Terrified, Maxwell’s eyes widened beginning to worry, he followed behind glancing in all directions.
It was windy, the desert before them dotted by hairless human-like demons scrapping at the surface of the ground with their fingertips, some crawling over a mound to hiss at them like a wild beast. All of these creatures were pale, extremely thin, and without eyes. Nothing existed within them but darkness. The deeper into Hell they moved, the two angels were aware that these beasts had begun gathering behind them. From time to time, one or two would bravely come closer to sniff at them. Those that came too close for Gabriel’s comfort were shooed away with a flick of his wrist, skittering back with a frightened whimper. But curiosity would overcome them once more and they would attempt to try and sniff again.
As they reached the large gates, they had accumulated an army of these creatures. Their attention was suddenly drawn to the loud sounds of a pair of them fighting. One bit the forearm of the other, causing a pile to form as more of the creatures began jumping in.
“Let’s leave them to it…,” Gabriel said, his hand touching the wrought iron of the massive gate and pushing it open.
The black clouds parted, allowing a burnt orange and red sky to be seen. The last time Maxwell had been there, nothing had been constructed. Now, a vast, broken city of windowless skyscrapers and pillars of fire decorated the once endless wasteland. It resembled something Earthly. It began to make sense to Maxwell as they walked past a crashed airplane he recognized from a major disaster on Earth. He realized the human spirits who had been damned attempted to recreate familiar things to cope with their afterlife.
Eventually, the two came upon a cemetery of broken and defiled tombstones. Azazel appeared, resting his back against a statue of a weeping angel. “You seem lost,” he smirked. “Gabriel…”
“Brother Azazel, you seem to have found me. I am lost no more in the garden of evil.” Gabriel smiled, his hand holding his horn tight.
Maxwell stepped closer to his side. “No games. Where is she?”
Azazel stepped forward. “But games are my favorite! Don’t ruin things before they’ve begun.” Moving out of the shadows, he couldn’t hide what his wings had become. They were not nubs like Maxwell’s. One was slightly intact, and the other stretched out like bony fingers. The remaining feathers still burned, smoke coming from them in wisps. His arms moved forward, adjusting his black suit jacket, and he flexed his wings.
“This ends now,” Maxwell said stepping forward.
In one swift move, Azazel snatched Maxwell up, taking him into the orange and red sky. The rapid beating of his mangled wings sent them into a spin. A blow from Maxwell’s fist connected to his jaw and Azazel almost dropped him. Another blow, this time to Azazel’s struggling wing, forced the pair to the ground. Maxwell recovered quickly, the heels of his boots digging into the dirt. Azazel grinned and pushed back his jacket to pull his own weapons from his back…two daggers held in place by a belt.
“Come on, Maxwell. Let me see you.” He threw a dagger, grazing him. “Let me see the truth you’re hiding!” Another dagger flew, missing completely as Maxwell moved his shoulder. From behind his back, Azazel pulled two more, trying to force him into showing his true form. If Maxwell changed, his eye sockets and curved horns would be exposed.
“I will not give in!” Maxwell yelled, scooping dust from the ground and tossing it into Azazel’s eyes. Although he had no true eyes, he did feel the burn of the microscopic particles hitting the sockets. While Azazel was distracted, Maxwell attacked, stabbing him in the neck with a rock shard, then quickly stabbing between his ribs. Black blood began to pour from the wounds and from Azazel’s mouth. His evilness had begun to spill out.
Azazel’s lips peeled back as he growled at the demon now above him and stabbing him repeatedly. Maxwell leaned forward and bit him, pulling back the flesh of Azazel’s cheek. He cried out in pain, but the cry soon transformed into manic laughter as the muscle fibers were exposed. Maxwell growled, taking another rock shard, and stabbing into his shoulder. Maxwell stood and moved away from the angel, kicking him in the ribs, pushing him over a small hill.
“You are weak, brother,” he said, watching Azazel roll, kicking up dirt. “I was expecting more from you.”
Azazel finally stopped rolling, pushed up, and stood. “You expect too much from me. I’m a mere distraction, you fool.”
Maxwell turned toward Gabriel when he heard the horn blowing. Looking upward, he saw blackened bodies flying across the sky. A screaming skull landed at his feet, quickly breaking and crumbling. As Maxwell was distracted, Azazel threw another dagger, burying it in his stomach. Black blood began to drip around the silver blade.
“See. You’re no better than I.” His fingers wrapped around the blade and he twisted it even deeper. “Mmm, this is a long overdue pleasure, brother. You know, I had to beg to be the one who ended you.” His tongue licked up the side of Maxwell’s face.
A deeply buried rage began to grow and strength came to him. Maxwell grabbed Azazel’s arms and twisted, pulling the dagger from his gut at the same time. Azazel hit the ground and his eyes opened wide, realizing Maxwell had been going easy on him. The blade, covered in black blood, was against his throat before he could form another thought. Azazel gasped.
“You underestimate me.” The demon straddled him and raised the blade high. “In the name of the mother and the father…” He thrust the blade down, breaking bones to puncture his heart. The blow itself wouldn’t have been enough, but the blessing would. “May they bless you, accept you for what you’ve become, and forgive you for all your sins.”
“No!” Azazel’s exclamation echoed, the black blood pushing out in a flood. Blinding light poured from his eye sockets, mouth, and wounds. Maxwell turned his face away, covering his eyes with his arm. He fell back as Azazel began to shutter and spasm in the dirt, kicking rocks up as his boots dug into the ground.
Maxwell peered over his arm. As his brother was dying, he began to weep. No matter the hatred that had grown between them, they were still sons of God. They were created together and fell together, and it was a bittersweet ending.
His attention was pulled away as the horn sounded once more. He had no time to linger in his mourning, instantly running to Gabriel’s side.
Before him lay a horrific scene, but Gabriel was beautiful in the way he fought. Spinning, utilizing his wings as weapons, smacking back demons. One hand held the curled ram’s horn, randomly blowing back attackers, as his other moved smoothly, using his sword to stab those within range. Maxwell saw scorch marks where the demons fell after being fatally blown back by the glowing hilt of the silver of Gabriel’s blade. Maxwell, normally a scrapper, fell back onto his magic before the beasts took notice of him.
His hands came together, and his palms pressed tightly as he raised them, evoking old magic. “From the depths within…” The script on his forearm began to shimmer with white and gold, “I condemn thee…” The air around him began to shake, a violent wind blowing the beings away from Gabriel. “Vile beasts, get back!” The index and middle finger of his left hand ran down the inner side of his forearm and over his palm. A long, thin sword, similar to Gabriel’s, grew in his hand.
“And here I thought you’d be trading punches with them,” Gabriel quipped as he moved, standing back-to-back with Maxwell as they slowly moved in a circle. He stabbed another in the chest, twisting the blade to make sure the wound would never heal properly.
Maxwell’s free hand moved, motioning them forward with a confident smirk. “Come on… You know you want some.”
One beast fell for it and launched itself at him. Maxwell moved swiftly, bringing his sword up to meet its neck. As he spun, his knee drove into its back, pushing it upon the sharp edge of the sword, severing the head from the body in a shower of blood. Maxwell moved back, finding himself covered in blackened blood from the beast.
As quickly as the fight had begun, it ended. The remaining beasts parted, allowing a being with long silver hair to come forward. A dark grey robe flowed out behind him, sliding over the black ground. His long fingers reached out, and he smiled. “Maxwell, welcome home.” His grey eyes shifted to Gabriel. “Brother Gabriel.” He nodded respectfully. His feet were bare as he moved closer to the pair, the beasts kneeling, bowing to this androgynous being. “Why do you fight so hard?” His hand lovingly moved, touching Maxwell’s jaw, smearing some of the blood away with his thumb. “You want her. That’s undeniable. Even now, I can smell her on you, but it’s beginning to fade. So sad.”
Yeqon was The Seducer, the reason lust became a sin. He was the most charming of The Watchers, loving the daughters and sons of man. He encouraged them to give into those feelings. With his beauty, he was a rival to Lucifer himself. “Dear, beautiful Maxwell, if you want her, I can give her to you. Who am I to come between a love so strong?” Maxwell knew Yeqon’s words were a sweet poison. He’d fallen for them long ago, but never again.
Yeqon’s fingertips playfully danced on the end of Maxwell’s chin. His long face turned toward Gabriel and he flashed a smile. “Don’t you think?” The question was posed to Gabriel, but he looked back at Maxwell when he pushed the end of his sword into the underside of Yeqon’s chin.
“Bring her now,” Maxwell said calmly. “Or you will join Azazel tonight.”
The demon’s eyes narrowed, staring into Maxwell’s. He felt himself too beautiful to die, so he waved his hand in the air and Adele appeared. She was covered in dirt and bound, her clothing ripped and ragged, gagged by a dirty white fabric piece around her mouth.
“You will need to hurry. When Kokabiel realizes she’s gone, he will know I helped you. Take her to the witches and she will be safe.” Yeqon’s words were quick. “If this is to be the last time I see you, please know I understand what you’re doing. I wish to go home, too.” He pressed his lips to the corner of Maxwell’s mouth.
With a wave of Yeqon’s hand, Adele’s bindings dropped, and she moved quickly to Maxwell. He brushed her hair back, pulled her gag down, and kissed her all over. “I thought I’d never see you again!” she cried out quickly, hugging him.
“You have done a noble thing, Yeqon,” Gabriel spoke, placing his hand on the fallen angel’s shoulder.
Yeqon turned to him. “It’s the last good thing I could do. We all know what Maxwell’s doing is a good deed. It’s sad to see my brothers and sisters change the way they have.” His head dropped. “I’m no better than they are.” Looking back into Gabriel’s eyes, he sighed. “The doorway will be locked. Eshu was bought by Azazel to lock it. You will have to find another way to get back to the Earthly plane.” Yeqon motioned Gabriel to walk to the side so they could speak quietly. “There is a doorway across the wasteland that should place you closer to where the witches are.” He pointed toward the horizon to direct him. “Kokabiel will know what I have done.”
“Why isn’t Brother Lucifer doing anything?” Gabriel asked softly, wrapping his arm around Yeqon’s shoulders. “I would think all of this would bother him.”
“He knows he’s not going anywhere. What Maxwell’s doing will help everyone, but that is only if they want the help. Lucifer is unredeemable. Those fighting Maxwell are the ones truly fearful of going home. They like being here and have accepted their punishment. They don’t want to lose their followers and their power. They also don’t want to be thrust into the Samsara Cycle like Lilith. They’d much rather stay demonic than work toward righteousness. She’s done her time. I overheard her saying she understood what she did was wrong. She cried, but not normal tears. These were heavy and full of remorse.” Yeqon slid a small vial from his robe’s hidden outer pocket and gave it to Gabriel. “The most powerful weapon here.”
Gabriel looked at the vial of angel tears and smiled. “Thank you, brother. Are they yours?”
Yeqon nodded. “They are the last tears I cried before I became truly damned. I gathered them before I fell. They’re full of pure love, hope, and innocence.”
As the two quietly spoke, Maxwell and Adele became reacquainted. “I realize what I did. I don’t want to be here. Too many are here and it’s overflowing.” Her words were full of sadness. “We have to save them.”
“I’m sad, too. This is what we’ve been working for.”
Both turned toward the blackened beasts still kneeling in respect of Yeqon. When he stepped toward them, they hissed to show their displeasure of his betrayal in helping Maxwell and the others. He moved through them, his head lowered. He knew he was walking to his end, joining Azazel in wherever the damned go after they die. It was still a mystery to those with ancient knowledge, those who’d seen the face of God. Somberly, he moved until they could no longer see him, becoming engulfed by the shadows as he walked up the large, dark slate stairs leading to the highest mountain.