Author notes: I have to do some tasks before going to bed, and I have work tomorrow, so this is the last chapter of the day. I will post another 4 chapters tomorrow, and from then on, it will be 1 chapter/week until the end of the novel. I am working through the Christmas break, but I don’t start year 2 of my Bachelor’s until mid-late January I think, so I am hoping this is enough time to almost complete the next volume of End Online and there will be minimal blank period of no posts once I finish publishing the free version of Immortal Templar.
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6:30pm.
“As you can see, the Protectorate have deployed a defensive wall around the scene of the rift and also set up a defensive perimeter to contain any monsters from escaping.”
The news host spoke as the camera showed the grounds of Laurence Academy of the Gifted, where a large fortified iron wall had been erected around the portal between the two worlds.
A large amount of camera crews could be seen, both media and individual SkyWire streamers who were trying to build their own journalism careers.
“Several hero teams have entered the rift to investigate the other side and locate the source that caused it to appear. The Protectorate stated they have detected a point on the inside of the rift that matches the energy signature of the rift itself. More controversial is that the school has refused to suspend classes dispite the danger of monsters so close by.”
The screen then went back to the news room where the anchor continued on the topic.
“Yes, despite the situation unfolding, the Laurence Academy of the Gifted have refused to suspend classes. Thane Freed, our politics correspondent, is here with us today. Thane, thank you for being here.”
A man in his late 50s with silvery hair and dressed in a nice suit smiled as the camera panned over to him.
“Not a problem, Laura. It is as you have mentioned, the magic academy, the only one in the state of Pennsylvania, have stated that the situation is fully under control and the students are completely safe. Therefore, they have no need to suspend any classes.”
“There are monsters just a couple walls away. These children are the future of our country, how can we place them in such peril.”
“I don’t disagree with you, it can clearly be seen that this is a political action. The school has a high level of prestige associated to its name. Being unable to provide a safe facility to their staff and students would cause an enormous blow to that reputation, which would cause the wealthy families to retract their scions, and also deter any potential investors.”
*click*
Thomas flicked off the TV while languishing across the couch, the remote loosely dangling from one hand whilst the other held a pile of papers recording all the missing person cases from the school over the past ten years.
Not far away, sitting behind the shop’s reception counter with a much better posture, Senna was leafing through her own pile of the same documents.
The old electric air conditioner was humming away and struggling to keep the store at a reasonable temperature as a heat wave had swept in overnight.
“Thomas, do you think the school will close down if the media receive an anonymous report of the missing cases over the past ten years?”
Thomas had a playful smirk on his face as he responded, “Do you think that will get you out of having to go to school?”
“…”
“The media are more than capable of locating such information. The reason why none of them bring it up is they were probably paid not to.”
“Why are humans so contemptuously corrupt?”
“That is just the way the modern world works. Even reports of this on social media will be automatically deleted before anyone can see them, watch~”
Thomas opened SkyWire and connected to a stream by an independent journalist that only had a handful of watchers. In the comment section, he called out the missing cases over the past decade, but upon posting the comment, it only appeared on his own screen momentarily before vanishing.
Senna’s eyes were sharp enough to see it and snorted in disgust before returning to her investigation.
“We are missing something,” She stated whilst looking over her notes, the only connection that they were all related to the school and reportedly went missing on the school grounds, all lacking substantial evidence.
“I know what it is!” Thomas shot upright as he had an epiphany. “These are all missing people related to the school, but others also go missing too. What about hunters who have investigated in the past? If they went missing, who is to report it? What about someone who happened to wander near or in the school without telling them, they would just be a random missing case!”
Senna groaned but started searching for all missing person cases in the area. She couldn’t track down any missing hunters, whom frequently vanished like puddles in the sun, but she could at least try find other related cases.
Whilst the two began chasing down another lead, the bell on the door rang as a gaunt looking man in his late forties walked in. The man was skittish constantly checking over his shoulder, even making sure the door was fully closed in the process.
“E-excuse me, I am here for Thomas’ Private Investigator Office for the Supernatural and Mundane…?”
Senna looked at him and wrinkled her nose in disgust, but Thomas got off the couch with a much friendlier reception.
“Of course, just as the name on the door states, that is us! How can I help you? Looking for someone, or looking to get rid of someo-”
“Don’t you dare offer hitman services,” Senna cut him off from his usual shenanigans.
“Ahem, or perhaps you are looking to get rid of a hellhound~?”
Thomas looked towards the door, his irises glowing white as his soul power radiated from his vessel.
The man looked at Thomas like he had finally found the guiding light at the end of the night, a savior in his direst time.
“Please! Please help me! I will do anything!”
He grasped onto Thomas in desperation, the latter’s shirt creasing within his clenched fists.
Thomas awkwardly pried the tense fingers open and freed himself before stating, “Come have a seat, introduce yourself, then explain the predicament to me.”
The man followed Thomas’ guidance to site before the untidy desk, all the while constantly checking around him nervously, wiping sweat off his forehead and rubbing his neck. He slowly collected his breathing before explaining himself.
“My… my name is Frank Baker. Ten years ago, my textile business was going extremely poorly and I was looking at bankruptcy. On a night I was drinking heavily, I was approached by a woman who promised me success and fortune. All I had to do was offer my soul at the end of the contract period.”
“And you took it?”
“I thought it was a joke! Also…”
“Also?”
“…I thought she was flirting with me, and it was some sort of elaborate role play…”
Even Senna turned her head to look at the man incredulously. He had severe balding, was mildly overweight, and didn’t have a face that others would consider particularly attractive.
Thomas clenched his jaw and squeezed his lips in order to prevent himself from laughing aloud, but failed to control his shaking shoulders.
“…”
“Have you ever heard that if something is too good to be true, it probably is?”
“Of course I have! But, once you are in that situation, you still hope…”
“I’m guessing you didn’t get her number?”
“…No… She left after that, and I continued drinking. The very next day, several large companies started placing orders for my product. The prices they were offering were incredible too. The bank gave me an extension on my debt and my fortunes rapidly turned around. I couldn’t believe how fast things changed.”
Thomas tapped his finger on the table rhythmically before asking, “But now its time to pay your due?”
“…I started seeing the hellhounds last week. They have been getting closer and closer. My memory of the agreement also returned as vividly as if it occurred only hours ago.”
“How long do you have?”
Frank nervously fiddled with his fingers, occasionally gripping his arm, thigh, or blue canvas satchel bag by his hip in a rigid grasp.
“49 hours and 14 minutes…”
“…That’s oddly specific.”
“I just know! It’s like a countdown is going on in my mind, there every second! Even blind drunk, I can recall exactly how long I have left!”
“Okay, I understand your plight. However, what do you want me to do? Chase away the hellhound? Only more will come. Banish the demon? Another will take its place.”
Thomas wasn’t especially versed on demonology, but he did have some experience in the past from his life as an inquisition knight. There were always people who made deals for wealth, power, lust, or any number of desires. One thing they all had in common however, was that none of them ever wanted to pay the price when it was due.
The church used to baptize and execute these sinners who sold their souls to demons, not out of pity, but to prevent the forces of hell from seizing their souls.
Thomas felt like this was not a good solution in the modern day however, especially once he learned the truth of the afterlife. He even questioned whether such a method even worked, or whether it was just another lie.
He could see the imprint of the contract on the man’s soul. It was like a glowing red infestation deep inside the core that not only marked him for hell, but would also be used for the forces of hell to track and locate him. Even with Thomas’ power, he would not be able to remove this without cutting his soul apart to get to it, effectively killing him anyway.
The man stated his desire.
“Demons… These demons are bound by rules, I just need to find a loophole.”
“There are none.”
“None?”
“None. No loopholes, no get out of jail free cards, no changing of mind, no cooling off periods… I can go on. Demons have been doing this since the inception of man, even before it. They are masters of twisting words and the art of negotiation. Nobody has done this before, at least not to my knowledge, so what makes you think you can?”
“I was drunk! How can you make a valid contract under such conditions?”
Thomas rose his brows as he looked at this desperate attempt to state why the contract was invalid. In his opinion, it was one of the weakest excuses he had ever heard.
“I’m afraid you will find that getting someone drunk is just a negotiation tactic to a demon, as is a honey trap.”
“Then… I need to break the contract.”
“This is not something I can help you with,” Thomas slowly shook his head helplessly. “For that, you would need someone with far more esoteric knowledge, such as a cultivator or mage who is well versed on demonology.”
“I… I don’t have enough time!”
Thomas shrugged his shoulders and gave the man a look of pity.
“… Fine. Can you give me protection then?”
“That is not a service I offer.”
“Please! I will pay you a large amount of money!”
Thomas sourly thought about Age of Heroes and how Gϋnther kept destroying his hero team in the game. He then thought about his drying up funds for the game before carefully replying to Frank.
“Well… It’s not an offer I usually offer,” He ignored the sharp glare from Senna sitting nearby, “but how much are you offering, and for how long?”
“50,000 credits! The protection will last until I can find a cultivator or mage who is experienced in demonology!
Frank Baker had come in with a dark blue canvas satchel bag. He hurriedly opened it and pulled out what looked like his business supplies. He withdrew a blank contract and quickly begun writing down the terms.
- Party B will protect Party A from harm until Party A can locate a cultivator or mage versed in demonology who will take up his request, regardless of price.
- Party A will offer Party B a remuneration of 50,000 credits as a protection fee.
He also signed his name under the ‘Party B’ section at the bottom of the contract.
“And how much time do you think it will take?”
“A week! I have enough wealth that I will be able to find one in a week!”
Senna didn’t even bother to turn her head and she scornfully stated, “Hmph, what utter shamelessness. You will create a contract with an indefinite term. If you don’t look for a cultivator or mage, you would be protected indefinitely.”
Frank looked slightly awkward before hurriedly stating, “A week, I will pay this per week!”
Senna placed down what she was doing and swiveled in her chair, obvious rage on her face. “Why don’t you set a time frame of a week instead?”
“I… I can’t! What if it takes two weeks, or even a month!?” Frank was frantic, almost pulling out what little hair he had left.
He then quickly adjusted the term and even added one more, showing as follows:
- Party B will protect Party A from harm until Party A can locate a cultivator or mage versed in demonology who will take up his request, regardless of price.
- Party A will offer Party B a remuneration of 50,000 credits per week as a protection fee, paid no later than the first day of every week, for the length of the contract.
- Should Party B fulfill the requirements of Article I within 32 hours, no payment will be required.
“Don’t be an idiot, Tho-”
“Done!”
Finished calculating how much stronger this would make him in Age of Heroes, all for little to no effort, Thomas signed the contract with an idiotic grin on his face. Senna didn’t even get the chance to finish her sentence before it was all over.
The moment he signed the contract however, he suddenly stopped in shock. Even Senna seemed to sense something and simply stared at him incredulously.
Frank Baker was almost hyperventilating as he thanked Thomas, grabbed the contract, and fled from the shop. He ran out the entrance before the two inside could recover.
“Son of a bitch!!” Senna screamed and vanished from her chair in a maelstrom of wind that caused dust and papers to swirl about the room, while any light items where blown off desks.
The moment the enraged demi fallen fae appeared at the top of the staircase outside however, just moments after Frank Baker exited, the latter was nowhere to be seen. She then appeared on top of a parked car on the side of the street, creating a large dent on the roof of a car that set the alarm off as a result.
Sniffing the air but not finding the scent she was looking for, she jumped to the roof of an old brick building down the street like a streak of lightning, the car below her feet now thoroughly destroyed beyond any hope of repair.
After moving around several roofs and still failing to find the person she was looking for, Senna shouted and kicked the corner of a brick ledge, sending half a broken brick catapulting into a luminous display panel playing an the latest spray on sun screen commercial.
Solarix Sunguard Spray may block cancer developing radiation from the sun, even in the void of space, but it couldn’t stop a half brick traveling at near the speed of sound, even the wall behind it suffered significant damage whilst shoppers and other passersby underneath fled with some screaming in panic, thinking there was a bomb that went off.
Thomas watched Senna reenter the store before wryly stating, “I think we’ve been had. That was a devil’s contract.”
“…WE? Don’t you mean you!? Why the fuck would you just sign something like that?”
Thomas had a mock aggrieved look on his face and rebutted, “Don’t blame all of this on me. You didn’t detect it either.”
“That was because all I could smell was the stench of that hellhound!”
“Whoever set this up, knew us well then~”
“We need to find that man and force him to break the contract. I only saw a glimpse of it, but that contract had another term on the back of it.”
“Probably a penalty clause, nothing to worry about.”
“Don’t make light of this, you could lose your life!”
Senna was outraged and slammed her palms atop Thomas’ desk, sending what papers remained on it fluttering in the air and joining the rest of the mess spread throughout the entrance area.
“Don’t stress it so much,” Thomas casually replied before lighting up a cigarette. “There is no way a demon or their minions is going to be able to kill me or take my soul. If anything, I could be considered their mortal enemy, considering they are soul based lifeforms.”
“Don’t smoke inside!”
Senna swiped her hand and turned Thomas’ cigarette into a puff of tobacco strands and shredded paper, a condition that was entirely unsavable.
“Hey, this could be the last cigarette I ever get to smoke, don’t take that away from me.”
“Then die in resentment!”
The two then parted as Senna’s anger melted away like a snowman in the sun. The fae slowly begun cleaning up the mess in the room whilst Thomas shamelessly pulled out another cigarette and lit it up, but he did move a little closer to the window.
This time, Senna didn’t attack his cancer stick, instead opting to blatantly avoid so much as looking at him. Whilst facing her back to him while cleaning, she did speak out softly.
“You said demons don’t make mistakes in their contracts, they have long since perfected it, but surely there are people who have gotten out of them.”
“It’s not that nobody ever have, but they are as rare as sightings of unicorns mating.”
“How can you be held to a contract if you weren’t shown all the terms?”
Thomas helplessly shook his head before releasing a large puff of smoke outside the window, distorting the neon glow of lights that shown down the alleyway.
“If you sign a contract without reading the all terms, you are just an idiot.”
“But they deliberately hid it from you.”
“That is my fault for not inspecting it closer.”
“You truly are an idiot.”
“Don’t worry,” Thomas grinned mischeviously, “Demons may be masters of twisting words, but the lackeys of demons are not. All I have to do is not accept the payment and the contract will be broken.”
Senna rolled her eyes before stating, “There is one thing I don’t understand.”
“?”
“Why? Why would a bunch of demons target you, or your life?”
“They tried taking over your body and failed, didn’t they?”
“Huh?” The fae girl gave Thomas a look of blatant derision, “Do they think that by holding your life, they will be able to force me to comply with their demands? At best, the church may exonerate several demons of their sins.”
“Well that hurts my feelings, my dear daughter leaving her father out in the cold like that. You could at least lie.”
“You don’t need to worry about this in the first case.”
“I don’t?”
“Of course. They are even dumber than you, after all.”
33 hours after Thomas signed the devil’s contract.
In an warehouse that had been abandoned for at least a decade, the old greenish square windows did little to hide the flickering lights of hundreds of wax candles scattered across the floor.
Demonic ritual circles were drawn in blood along the around the floor, twisted evil symbols scrawled on the pillars and walls. At first, there seemed to be no sense of order to the placement of candles, but everything played its role as a part of a grander plan.
A man with a half rotting face sat cross legged in the center of the largest ritual circle of the room, the eerie dark crimson blood glistening in the candlelight as if it were still fresh. His eyes were closed as he sat in meditation, as still as a stone statue.
In the distance, far from this warehouse, he heard the cries of anguish and pain, all of which brought on by the demons he sent out. The essence of the victims of these demons flowed back to him through his power before being refined by the demonic ritual site and healing his wounds.
These wounds were not the rotting flesh on his body, a sign of the vessel he possessed breaking down and decaying. No, these were wounds etched in his very soul, a consequence of when he attempted to possess the demi fallen fae known as Senna.
Astaroth, Duke of Doors, Leader of the 29th Legion of Hell.
This Demon of the Court’s unique ability was the ability to open doors. Not some figurative power like some form of superpowered doorman, but in a more conceptual manner. He could open passageways between locations, connecting one point to another.
This was far more powerful when applied to doorways themselves, but even an arch could suffice to fulfill the criteria for activating his powers.
What counted as a door was also extremely conceptual. He could open the door into someone’s mind, or release their fears. He could open a door inside a cultivator and allow them to advance in rank. The list of possibilities was endless, such was the chaotic nature of demonic energy.
When stacked on top of the standard usual demonic powers which could twist reality, this Demon of the Court was particularly troublesome to deal with.
At this moment, a burly bald man with tattoos up his neck and on his head strolled in. His expression was extremely grim, but he carefully approached whilst ensuring he avoided the candles. Following behind him was Frank Baker, sweat covering his forehead as he panted in exhaustion as if he had just run a marathon.
Atop his usual attire, the man wore a dark grey, almost black, robe with a modified golden Seal of Solomon embroidered on the middle of his chest.
This was a symbol used by the Church of Eternal Life, a somewhat mysterious organization whose followers supposedly summoned otherworldly beings in order to make exchanges for longer life and fantastical powers.
It also used excess funds to help combat disease and other causes of premature death, thus giving people outside of the church to view it in a positive light.
A row of candle flames flickered from the duo passing by and Astaroth opened his pitch black eyes, looking at them with a gaze that seemed to be able to see straight through them.
The burly demon moved aside as Frank hurriedly prostrated himself before Astaroth.
“D-duke Astaroth, I have accomplished the task you gave me. N-now, can you…”
The demon in question smiled sinisterly, his teeth yellowed and decaying.
“Of course, those who serve us well will naturally be rewarded. Congratulations on your promotion, Bishop Baker. Continue serving well and wealth, love, power – you will be able to savor it all.”
With the demon’s command, the threads on the symbol on Frank’s robe seem to come alive like tiny serpents. Several threads grew in size and made their way into the center void in the hexagram and interwove with the threads of the robe and became the shape of a small crown.
At first glance, this appeared to be some form of holy symbol, but on the inside of the robe, this took on the form of a demonic symbol meaning ‘Bishop’. It also exuded demonic energy that soaked into the body of the wearer, slowly and silently corrupting them.
“T-thank yo-blurgh!”
Just as he was busy thanking the demon, a curved black shortsword protruded from his chest. The demon who had led him in had moved behind him and run the short sword through his heart.
Frank’s mind was just full of confusion, unable to process the sudden turn of events. He attempted to open his mouth to talk, but the only thing that came out of his lungs was blood.
He quickly turned limp and disconnected from his body, as if it were someone else’s. The hellhound that had been constantly breathing down his neck wrapped its jaws from around his soul and mercilessly tore it from his body.
“Hahahahaha!! Did you think that this would void your contract? You even added a term here that would allow our target to fulfil this contract, and yet you were thinking you would be rewarded? Its perfectly fine, he won’t be able to deliver a mage or cultivator to you down in hell!”
Astaroth laughed hysterically whilst Frank’s soul screamed in pain, but it could make no sound. The hellhound soon faded away and returned to hell to deliver Frank Baker’s soul.
He then abruptly stopped laughing and turned to the demon who killed the man.
“Are the sacrifices ready?”
The demon merely nodded his head in response before several more demons, each wearing the robes of the Church of Eternal Life, but with the symbols for ‘Cardinal’ on their chest, entered.
They escorted six humans, male and female, into the room without any sense of urgency. All of them were possessed, except for one women who was a First Circle Mage, her head hung limp and her breathing shallow as she was forcibly dragged in.
Looking around, they other five hurriedly bowed toward Astaroth, not daring to raise their heads until they were told to do so. One of them was Alan West, while the others who were possessed all held similar traits in either facial structure or hair color.
“Ahhh, it is so unfortunate. If we had gotten every member of the family, the ritual would have been even more thorough. This girl will have to do as a substitute. It’s better than nothing.”
Despite his lamenting voice, Astaroth grinned from ear to ear, distorting his rotted and withered face.
The near death mage was dragged into one of the smaller ritual circles surrounding the main one whilst the others all took their position of their own volition.
Astaroth then returned to the main demonic ritual circle in the center of the warehouse and spread out his demonic powers. The blood that formed the subsidiary circles glowed a deep crimson whilst candle flames speared into the air.
The five possessed members of the West family all displayed manical grins as they slit their throats with twisted daggers prepared beforehand, whilst one of the escording demons replicated this on the unconscious mage who breathed her last with a faint wheeze, a death throe that set everything in motion.
The cackle of demons split the air as the sounds of tortured souls screamed.
Not far away, several police were patrolling the area completely unaware of the happenings in this nondescript warehouse. It was as if the shrill screams were completely trapped within.
The six bodies in the subsidiary ritual cirles all withered and turned into wrinkled husks, as if every last drop of moisture was extracted from their bodies.
Contrary to those who were sacrificed in this demonic ritual, Astaroth sighed in ecstasy as the blood and vitality flowed into him.
The vessel he was inhabiting rapidly healed, his teeth turning white and skin regenerating into a pristine condition. From an unrecognizable walking corpse, he turned into the CEO of West Union Bank, Timothy West.
He was the father of Alan and Erin West, the latter being the only remaining family member that didn’t get possessed by demons and he whereabouts currently unknwon.
She was also the final piece of this ritual, but had unexpectedly gotten away.
Astaroth cracked his neck before commenting, “It’s not as good as a whole bloodline, but this will do temporarily. I will have a much more appropriate vessel soon… Yes, soon.”
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