Everything in Creation is governed and bound by Laws;
Heaven and Hell are no exception.
In times when Demons refuse to comply,
When the actions of the rogues jeopardise the balance,
Hell sends their ancient and most dangerous spawn;
The Contractor…
Act I – The Athlete
”Leading
the pack is Osoba from Nigeria, racing ahead of the group with a strong lead at
the 200 metre mark, followed behind by Jameson representing the United States
with Thomas closely behind in from New Zealand. The three speedsters are sure
to take their medals respectively and are closing in on the finish with… wait
what’s this? From way out in the rear, it’s Tan from Singapore working himself
into a boost! At 100 metres left can he catch up to the leaders? He’s catching
up to Thomas- oh there’s Jameson and Tan’s gaining on Osoba, the Nigerian
Nitro, will he take the gold from underneath- HE’S DONE IT! TAN THE UNDERDOG
TAKES THE GOLD FROM THE HEATED FAVOURITE IN A GLORIOUS UPSET VICTORY! MY
GOODNESS LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS IN MY
LIFE!”
Standing
with his back against a lamppost, a mysterious man pulled a cigarette from the
inside of his long, flowing, crimson-red trench coat. The night was cursed with
the sound of crows in the distance, and moths hanging above his head. The
stranger closed his eyes as he put the unlit smoke to his lips and kept it
there, adjusting his ears, waiting; just waiting. The sun started to set upon
the town and the shadows of the nearby houses started to stretch and reach for
him. He let out an impatient ‘tsk’ as he reached
into the outer pocket of his coat and pulled out an ancient, worn, jet-black
pocket watch; ‘Where in the Nine Circles of Hell is he?’ he thought, as he
clicked open the chronometer. In it lay a clock face with two long hands; one
red, one black. Both were ticking backwards at the exact same speed.
‘Fucking wind demons, hurry the fuck up.’
He had very little patience for
the scum of Hell and felt more offended that they kept him waiting.
His pocket watch let out a small
chime and he opened its face once again; both hands were now aligned and point
at 12 o’clock.
He snapped the watch closed and
stared down the road.
A Singaporean gentleman with very
short, black hair and large headphones was walking towards him, holding
groceries in one hand adjusting the music on his MP3 player with the other.
He neither moved nor made any
sound as the man walked passed him, taking no notice of the crimson-clad stranger
leaning on the light post, listening to the loud music blaring into his head.
‘You are late.’ The red man
whispered.
The music-lover stopped in his
tracks and spoke an unknown tongue. ‘Qui
estis vos?’
The Singaporean man stared into
his blood red eyes as the red stranger’s cigarette suddenly became alit.
‘I am Nyxanoth Faust, here on
behalf of Lord Mammon.’
‘The Contractor.’ The man stated.
‘So you’ve heard of me then. Good…’
‘Quid agis hic?’
‘Your meat sack, that would-be
athlete, Tan, made a deal with our master. Do you remember the pact?’
The demon occupying Tan growled.
‘You, the stinking, putrid, filthy
piece of shit that you are, are in violation of Section 49 of the “Pacts of Hell, Ante Bellum”, and for
that you are now judged. Now hand over that moron’s soul so I can go home.’
‘Abi in malam rem!’
‘I want to go to Hell, but you’re stopping me from doing that asshole.
Now just give me the fucking soul and I won’t strip the flesh from your bones.’
Tan’s body laughed raucously as he
dropped his groceries on the ground. ‘You wish to stop me, but how can you
catch the fastest man on Earth?’
Faust spat his cigarette on the ground
bitterly. ‘Don’t do this shitsack, don’t make me kick your sorry ass up and
down this plane of existence.’
Before Faust could react, a large,
bellowing jet of violet smoke erupted from Tan’s mouth. The jet circled around
Tan’s body before taking form a dark, purple demon holding Tan’s limp body in
one of his murky talons and a golden orb in the other; the Human Soul. It carelessly threw the body
of Tan onto the ground and leered at Faust with its black, cold eyes.
‘Hand it over!’ Faust demanded
angrily.
Again the wind demon laughed and, in
a strong gust of air, sprinted down the road with unholy speed.
‘Fuck, why do they always run!’ Faust thought to himself as he gave
chase.
In a span of mere minutes, the wind
demon cleared three different suburbs as he raced trains, sped past cars on a
freeway and was currently gaining speed on a passenger jet flying overhead.
‘Hey asshole!’ The demon heard
from behind. ‘Da Mihi!’
It turned its scaly, horned face
and snarled as the crimson-red cloak of the Contractor, Faust, was seen
ruffling in the wind and quickly descending upon it like a red shroud.
Faust raised his fist and, as he
closed in, gave the demon a quick swipe to its jaw, knocking it into a nearby empty
office building with alarming force. The demon fell through the wall and let
out a terrifying shriek as it crashed into a large block of desks and
computers.
It raised itself from the mountain
of office furniture only to see the cloak of Faust flow into the room through
the large craterous hole in the building wall.
‘Morior!’ It shrieked demonically. A large jet of wind poured from
its mouth and towards Faust, collecting various computer monitors and filing
cabinets and sending them flying in his direction. Faust bobbed and weaved through
the flying wreckage, trying to keep his ground against the powerful gales.
‘Winds?’ He screamed through the
squalls. ‘Don’t you know who you’re fucking with?’
Faust raised his hand towards the
demon and in a fraction of a second the gusts were swallowed into his palm.
‘Incredibili!’
‘Oh you better believe it.’ Faust
stated, smirking triumphantly. He let out a fearsome roar and with not even a
muster of effort, pushed back the winds towards the demon, sending it hurtling
through the walls and out the other side of the building.
As it rose from the rubble of bricks and
mortar, it spoke in feared astonishment. ‘Qu-quomodo
facitis?’
‘You should read some more you
limey fuck!’ Faust answered, pouring through yet another hole he made in the
building and walking menacingly towards the demon. ‘I wrote the fourteen laws
that allowed demons to have power in the
first place. You would just be a shade of an imp were it not for me!’
‘C-confuto!’ It whimpered.
But Faust ignored him and kept
walking slowly towards its cowering body.
‘CONFUTO!’ It bellowed.
Faust opened his mouth to protest
as he saw what he had feared would happen; the demon, still holding the golden
orb in its talon, opened its decaying maw and bit into the glowing sphere with
its rotting fangs. Faust rushed towards the demon with his fist ready as he
heard what sounded like glass cracking; it had broken through the soul.
Faust could only watch in horror
as the golden radiance of the soul enveloped the demon, lifting it off the
ground catatonically.
The demon, black and scaly,
started to sprout large, jet black, unholy wings on its pitiful shoulders. Its
horns started to engorge, growing into large abominations upon its forehead.
The light receded and the demon floated
to the ground slowly, cackling madly at Faust, standing knee-deep in rubble
with a look of utmost hatred towards it.
‘Ubi erant nos?’
‘I’m about to finish killing you
and then I’m gonna take your fucking head back to Hell as a trophy!’
The demon cackled louder. ‘Quomodo eris mihi prohibere?’
‘Like this!’ Faust raised his palm
to the beast again and unleashed the same jet of wind as he did before. Only,
the demon stood its ground effortlessly, smirking at him, glaring at him with
its black, unhallowed retinas.
‘Iis vicissim!’ The demon charged at Faust in a speed that was
almost inconceivable by Faust’s eyes and before he could react, the demon’s
cold, dreadful talons were fastened around his neck, choking the life out of
him.
‘Quomodo habet sentire mori lente?’
Faust, barely able to breathe,
replied in a wheezing voice. ‘You… tell me!’
The demon grinned victoriously as
he heard the grim sound of Faust’s neck snap and there he held, in his cold,
black, scaly talon, was the limp body of Hell’s most fearsome reaper.
‘Flebilis!’ He shouted to the winds, casting Faust’s body aside
like a ragdoll. It turned to leave and as soon as one of its clawed feet
touched the ground, it was frozen in place by some mysterious force. The demon
looked down at its foot in horror and started beating its newly formed wings to
escape, only to have no lift whatsoever.
‘For Lucifer’s sake,’ it heard
from the corner, ‘when will you idiot demons ever learn; I don’t play by the same
Laws here on Earth; I am the Law!’
The demon stared in horror as the body
of Faust rose from the ground; his neck let out a loud, gruesome snap as he
readjusted his dislocated neck and massaged it nonchalantly.
The demon roared a pitiful,
cowardly roar as Faust arose fully.
‘Under Section 49 of the ‘Pacts of
Hell’ ante bellum, you are in violation of the balance and I, Nyxanoth Faust shall
enforce your punishment!’
The demon pleaded for its life,
begging Faust disgracefully for its life. But Faust had already begun executing
his sentence.
He pulled out a small, silver
bible from the inside of his cloak and opened it to a passage.
‘Mors ultima linea rerum est!’ Faust read. ‘In morte requiesces!’
He snapped the book shut and as he
so did, the demon’s body started to char and burn. It cried an unimaginable cry
of pain as the flesh from its infernal body started to deteriorate before its
eyes.
Faust watched as the remnants of
the demons body crumble to ash and he spat on its remains angrily.
Faust stood before the body of Tan
as it slowly started to regain consciousness. ‘What happened?’ He asked, rubbing
his head gingerly.
Faust spoke in a calm voice. ‘You
made a deal with my Master, Mammon, do you remember?’
Tan stared at Faust in shock but
eventually, he nodded. ‘He sent me a demon that helped me run faster.’
‘And what was given up in exchange
for that gift?’
Tan’s face paled. ‘He wanted my
soul.’
‘Well unfortunately, the demon
that he had sent you stole your soul and made off with it.’ Faust explained,
unable to hide the bitterness in his voice.
‘Do you… have my soul?’
‘I don’t have your fucking soul,
didn’t you hear me? I said a demon took it!’
Tan recoiled. ‘What happens to me
now? Are you… are you gonna kill me?’
Faust folded his arms angrily. ‘Listen,
you’re gonna live up to the point where your heart stops beating. At which
point, all your accomplishment and goals that you achieved in life will account
for jack shit. You will be dragged into Limbo where you, the soulless little
shit that you are, will exist in nothingness ad aeternum. Are we clear?’
Tan started to smile. ‘You mean, I
get to live a normal life… and with all my sponsors and medals and money?’
‘Is that all that fucking matters
to you; money? No wonder Mammon took this deal. You are a Class-A moron. Your
soul is gone you idiot piece of shit! Your very presence on the face of this
Earth is now a blight; an unholy abomination against all creation!’
‘But I’ll live my life normally.’
‘Normally? Your soul houses the
catalysts for a happy and harmonious life and
afterlife; the stepping stones for love, life and good health and prosperity
and you just threw it away for money and fame?’
Tan face started to flush with
worry. ‘Well w-what can I do?’
‘You can go back in time and tell
your smarter self that deals with demons are always gonna end badly. See if you
can’t engrave that into a fucking medal!’
And with that last statement and a
flick of his red cloak, Faust was gone.
Tan sat on the ground and stared
at his hands lamenting his lost soul for all the fame and fortune in the world
were but of a small, trifling value compared to that of a soul.
And so ends the tale of the Athlete… and the
Contractor...
