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 V – The Orphan

 

“To: June Foster

Subject: Hi mum!

Asr be kheyr mummy and daddy,

How’s everything in London? I hope you’re taking lots of pictures for me, I would love to see what your homeland looks like. Is it true that it rains there like all year round? I couldn’t live in a country like that =P I’m too used to the Persian Heat.

Anywho, I’m writing to you because I think I’ve found a way to locate where my birth parents were buried. Don’t get me wrong, you and daddy have been awesome parents to me but I’m 22 now and I just wanna know my roots, I wanna know what my real mum and dad were like, just to see how my life would have been on the other side of the fence… For closure I guess.

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about all this before you left for the UK but to be honest, I just thought about it a few days ago. I found a man who is willing to dig around for me and he should be getting back to me in a few hours.

Anyway, sorry for the short email, but I need petrol for the car. I suspect I might have to travel to Khorramshahr to visit their graves.

Duset daram mummy and daddy!

Leila <3”

‘Come back here you little shit!’

Down the night streets of Tavukane he raced, his crimson trench coat whipping behind him in the wind, as he gave chase to the water demon; the glowing, golden orb clamped in its dribbling, rotting, blue maws.

The demon turned its head and, as its black eyes locked with its pursuer, it let out a mocking laughter.

‘Nimis tardus, Faust! Vos potestis sequi?’ It taunted. The demon leapt high into the air and, with both of its talons outstretched, dove into the ground, leaving behind a small puddle of water as proof of where it disappeared.

The crimson-clad man, Faust, stared at the clear pool of water before he himself, dove headfirst through it. He felt the cool feeling of water washing over his skin as the currents pulled through a dark tunnel. In the distance, he could see a small ray of light shine through the depths of the underground current before his head eventually breached the water’s surface.

Faust found himself climbing out of another puddle and in a strange building. He looked around and surveyed the area; there were various mosaic pictures all over the walls of the rooms.

‘The Great Palace Mosaic Museum.’ He thought. Faust climbed out of the puddle on the floor and shook the water out of his hair, looking around the empty room, searching for any signs of the water demon before spotting it hanging upside-down from the red banister on the balcony in the corner of the room, licking one of its chops and clutching the human’s soul in the other.

‘Found you, you little prick!’ He shouted from the ground.

The demon’s black, rotting ears pricked up at the sound of Faust’s voice and it leapt down from the balcony, landing with a loud thud in front of him.

‘Now I want you to listen to me very carefully,’ Faust stated slowly, ‘if you don’t give me back that soul, I will reach down your throat, pull out your black heart and crush it with my bare –‘

Before he could finish his sentence, Faust was knocked off his feet by a large jet of water, crashing into the wall behind him. The demon cackled madly, wiping the excess water from its lips.

Faust pulled himself out of the wall and dusted the plaster off his trench coat. ‘Okay, I’m really trying to not kill you right now but you are really pushing my fucking temper demon. I just want the soul back.’

‘Vadis ut noceret mihi?’ The demon asked cautiously.

‘I’m not gonna hurt you if you cooperate; if you work with me, I’ll promise you that no harm shall befall you. That human’s soul belongs to the human; not you, not Hell.’

The demon stared at the stern look on Faust’s face and then back at the golden soul it held in its hand. It cautiously lowered its head and nodded.

Faust smiled softly and walked towards the demon, its talon outstretched and presenting the soul to him. Faust, in turn, reached out his hand to accept the orb but recoiled as he felt a searing hot pain in his hand. Looking down, he could see a small, circular, smoking wound in his hand. ‘Rock salt?’

Faust whipped around in search of the source and his eyes fell upon a young human male in a very impractical brown suit, peering at him through the sights of a ‘Savage 110 BA’, bolt-action sniper rifle with his sharp, hawk-like, hazel eyes.

‘You!’ Faust cried angrily, still clutching his wounded hand.

The suited man said nothing and fired another shot at Faust’s head. Faust quickly evaded the shot and took cover around a corner. More shots were heard as Faust poked his head out of his cover, only to see the water demon running around wildly, trying to avoid being shot by the determined sniper.

‘Wait, no! Don’t scare him!’ Faust called above the gunfire. He ran out from behind the corner and conjured a small fireball hastily to his hands before launching it desperately at the hunter. The flame caught onto the sniper rifle and the human dropped it on the ground, staring at his once trusty weapon that was now glowing red with heat.

‘Nice trick, Contractor,’ the human said, defiantly staring at Faust from his balcony, ‘but you’ll need more than circus acts to stop me!’

The hunter leapt off the balcony and down towards Faust, drawing two ‘Intratec TEC-DC9’ machine pistols from the inside of his jacket and showering the Contractor in a hail of bullets.

Faust, using his inhuman speed, quickly dashed out of the way, bounding upwards to the balcony where the hunter once stood. ‘Sick ‘em!’ He shouted.

No sooner had the hunter’s feet touched the ground he was tackled by the water demon, its maw locked in a vice-like grip on one of the hunter’s TEC-9s.’

‘Give it up Conrad,’ Faust called from his balcony, holding another fireball in his hand, ‘don’t make me kill you.’

The hunter laughed mockingly. ‘Kill me? Idle threats, Contractor; you cannot kill me without violating the Laws of Creation. You cannot even kill a cockroach that has run underfoot.’

Faust growled. ‘Look, I need that soul, a human’s soul, for a Persian girl back in Tabriz. I don’t need any more trouble from a smart-ass Demon Hunter like you, Conrad!’

The Demon Hunter, Conrad, stared back at Faust, his brown eyes burning with a frenzied obsession. ‘That human called this demon into our world,’ he stated coldly, ‘she deserves whatever fate befalls her.’ He kicked the water demon in the chest, causing it to fall backwards and release his weapon from its mouth before training both pistols on Faust and firing madly onto the balcony.

Faust felt a painful, scorching sensation envelop his entire body as the salt-laced bullets tore through his flesh. As he keeled over, he gave one last order to the water demon before his body turned into ash; ‘run!’

The demon bounded through the streets of Istanbul after crashing through a wall of the museum, chased by the frightening sounds of bullets being fired from behind it. Fearful for its life, the demon spat on the ground far in front of him, leaving behind a large pool of water before it dove into the puddle and disappearing from the Demon Hunter’s sight.

Conrad stood over the small body of water and stared into its transparent surface. He quickly pulled out his ‘Blackberry Z10’ and scrolled downwards before pressing the dial button.

‘Higgsby,’ he spoke into the receiver, ‘tell me all the landmarks within a 10 kilometre radius.’

The old, husky voice of Conrad’s servant was heard through the speakers. ‘Master Deslin, there is the “Eyup Cemetery” about seven kilometres from your location, sir.’

‘Good, how far are you from there?’

‘I can be there in five minutes, sir.’

‘And you will get there in two. Prepare the area, set up the equipment. The Contractor should arrive shortly before I.’

‘Yes Master Deslin, right away sir.’

The phone beeped as Deslin Conrad ended the phone call and stared up and down the darkened streets until his eyes landed upon a tired, old Toyota Corolla sitting on the side of the road. He grinned proudly to himself as he brandished a ‘Leatherman Surge’ pocket knife and walked quickly towards the car.

The water demon sat underneath a large tree, holding the soul close to its chest and jumping at even the smallest sound. At the sound of the wind blowing through the cemetery, it scampered, finding another tree to hide behind, whimpering slightly. Its blackened eyes stared hungrily at the human’s soul until a loud roaring noise awoke it from its stupor. ‘Don’t you fucking dare.’

The demon wheeled around to see a large circle of fire on the grass, and the lone figure of Faust, the Contractor, arising from the ashen ground, his crimson trench coat dancing in the fire’s manes.

‘Recipite grata.’ The demon stated happily.

‘I saw the way you were looking at that soul,’ Faust stated dangerously, ‘and I don’t like it. You get that thought out of your fucking head, you get me?’

The demon nodded its head obediently.

‘Now,’ he said, looking around carefully, ‘give me the soul and we can be on our –‘

Faust’s sentence was cut short as he heard the sound of water spraying into the air. Looking around he could see the cemetery’s sprinkler system activate, showering the air with water. He shook his head and turned back to the demon, only to see it on the ground, writhing in agonising pain as the water splashed onto its skin, blistering its flesh.

‘Holy water!’ Faust exclaimed. He took off his trench coat and draped it over the pained demon before he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun firing, followed by a burning sensation in his shoulder. ‘Fuck!’ He shouted, clutching onto his perforated left shoulder.

From amongst the bushes, Faust could see the smoking barrel of a ‘Winchester Model 1200’ shotgun and the Demon Hunter, Deslin Conrad, and his loyal manservant, Higgsby, emerge.

‘Hmm… my aim is off.’ Conrad muttered as he approached Faust.

The Contractor raised his hands, summoning another fireball but fell forward as he heard another blast of the shotgun. He looked down to see his leg had been torn to shreds by the Winchester and let out an angered roar into the night.

‘Higgsby,’ Conrad ordered, ‘watch the Contractor while I deal with this unholy vermin.’ He threw his shotgun to his servant, who trained the barrel on Faust’s chest.

Faust could hear the soft crunching of grass as Conrad walked closer and closer to his trench coat and, underneath lying, the water demon. Not knowing what to do, Faust let out a loud, frustrated cry.

‘Do it!’ He shouted.

A loud noise of breaking glass pierced the air. Panicked, Conrad ran towards the water demon, only to be knocked back by a large torrential gush. He lifted his sopping-wet head from the ground and saw the water demon emerge from beneath Faust’s coat, completely transformed.

It had grown a pair of decaying, sinewy wings on its shoulders and large, curved horns protruded from its forehead. The demon cackled madly at the pitiful holy water that was trickling down the side of its face, leering angrily and growling at Conrad. The Demon Hunter reached into his jacket for his TEC-9s but the demon was already in the air. In a short blink, Conrad had his neck in the firm and sharp talons of the water demon, struggling for air.

‘Higgs…by…’ He choked. ‘The… Longinus…’

With one cautious look at Faust, Higgsby tore off the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a small, silver spearhead fastened around his arm with leather bands. The servitor charged towards the demon and with a mighty grunt, threw the blade with all his strength.

The water demon let out a loud shriek as the spearhead embedded into its neck. Conrad felt the demon’s grip loosen and slipped in between its giant talons and grabbed hold of the shard with both hands, running the blade across the demon’s jugular and around the back of its neck, severing its head from its body.

Faust watched in horror as the demon’s body began to ashen; its flesh melted and charred into specks of dust, flying into the wind and before long, all that was left of it was a pile of charred ash.

Faust hung his head in failure as he heard both Conrad and Higgsby approach.

‘You could have let me extract the fucking soul you limey shitbags!’ He shouted angrily. ‘You costed an innocent human her soul!’

‘Innocent?’ Conrad laughed, picking up his shotgun and reloading it. ‘She enlisted the help of the Black Princes of Hell. This bitch is far from innocent.’

‘That’s not your call to make, Demon Hunter! Your lust for blood has clouded you judg-‘

Another loud gunshot was heard as Faust’s words failed him once more. Conrad stood over the pile of ash that was once the body of the Contractor and sneered.

‘Hell’s most fearsome weapon?’ He sniggered. ‘I have disposed of imps that were more of a challenge.’

‘A job well done this evening, Master Deslin.’ Higgsby applauded.

‘It’s far from over Higgsby,’ Conrad stated macabrely, ‘I will run into the Contractor again. So long as Hell exists, I will always find myself drawing swords against him. But now he knows, now all of Hell knows, that we humans, we have methods to defend ourselves against their unhallowed and deceptive ways.’

 In a small apartment in the town of Tabriz, Iran, a young girl sat at her desk, patiently awaiting the peculiar man she had spoken to hours earlier. She held a book in her hand but was too preoccupied with her thoughts to continue reading; she just mutely read the same paragraph over and over again, forgetting what the story was about.

She glanced across the desk to the digital alarm clock that sat there.

‘Two in the morning,’ she thought, ‘I thought he’d be back by now.’

She stood up and made her way to the bathroom. The cold faucet squeaked loudly as she splashed cold water on her face to keep her awake. The faucet squeaked again as she tightened the handle shut, turned off the bathroom lights and went back into the living room. She let out a small squeal, not unlike her leaky faucet, as she saw a large, circular patch of burnt carpet and a man wearing crimson trousers and a black vest standing at the centre, staring at her.

‘Asr… Asr be kheyr… Mister Faust?’ She stammered.

‘Asr be kheyr Leila Foster.’ He replied.

‘You look different; what happened to your coat?’

‘Don’t ask.’ He answered quickly.

Leila was taken aback at being cut to the quick. ‘Did you find them?’ She asked slowly.

Faust walked across the room and picked up a cigarette lighter from the coffee table, striking it as he brought a cigarette to his lips. He took a long drag and blew out a large cloud of grey smoke before turning to Leila Foster and answering her.

‘Yes and no.’ He stated simply. He took another long drag from his cigarette. ‘You were actually born Leila Esfahani, your parents were Omid and Zahra Esfahani and, like you had suspected, lived in Khorramshahr until soldiers lay siege to the city in 1980.’

‘That’s it?’ Leila replied unimpressed. ‘I gave you my soul just so you can tell me my parents’ names?’

‘I’m not done yet.’ He answered irately. ‘They fled Khorramshahr for Turkey, but they stopped here in Tabriz to resupply.’

‘I still don’t see me getting my money’s worth here aqa.’ She said haughtily. ‘So are they buried here then?’

‘They’re not buried anywhere,’ Faust said bluntly, ‘they’re alive in Istanbul. Old as shit, but alive and kicking kid.’

‘I don’t… what do you mean they’re alive?’ Leila gasped.

‘You can’t connect the dots? They abandoned you here in Tabriz so their journey to Turkey would be easier.’ Faust crushed the cigarette on the corner of Leila’s coffee table. She took no notice of him doing so as she slumped back into her desk chair, completely stunned by Faust’s revelations.

‘They… just left me here?’ She asked unblinkingly.

Faust ignored her and continued. ‘Now as per Section 49 of the ‘Pacts to Hell’ ante bellum, I have to tell you what happens with your contract.’

‘What do you mean?’ Leila asked, snapping out of her daze. ‘You just take my soul now don’t you?’

‘It’s not that simple. Think about the exact deal you made with Leviathan, what were the terms of your agreement with the Prince of Envy?’

‘I… he agreed to find my parents graves… for my soul.’

‘Right, but we didn’t find a grave. We failed in our end of the contract so you were entitled to a refund.’

‘I… get my soul back?’

‘You would have but there were… complications…’ Faust spat on the floor angrily and, again, Leila did not take notice.

‘So… what now? You give me like a stock soul? A soul from the warehouse?’ She asked interestedly.

‘That’s not how it works; I can only give you back your soul, no one else’s.’

‘So either way,’ she started angrily, ‘I’m not gonna get my soul back at all.’

‘No.’ Faust said, staring at the ground ashamedly. ‘You won’t.’

‘Well that’s bullshit!’ She shouted. ‘I’m entitled to my soul back; you have to give it back!’

‘There is no fucking soul to give back you little shit!’ He shouted, glaring at her angrily. ‘I fought tooth and fucking nail to get you your soul back so I would appreciate it if you would shut the fuck up, calm down, shut the fuck up again, and listen to whatever the fuck I have to tell you!’

Leila almost fell out of her chair at being scolded so violently. ‘G-go on.’

‘You have now learned a valuable lesson in dealing with Hell; never fucking do it! Yeah, it’s pretty shitty that you’re not gonna get your soul back, but only five hours ago you were more than happy with giving up your soul to know where two headstones were. So don’t get shitty with me just because mummy and daddy didn’t love you enough to take you to Turkey with them!’

‘I’m not –‘

‘Shut the fuck up! I’m not finished. Now I’ve given you the information that you half-wanted to hear but were too afraid to and you know what? In about a few hours, when your body realises it doesn’t have a soul anymore, you’re not gonna give a shit.’

‘But this… this is all wrong!’ She cried.

‘If you have any complaints, call back Leviathan and discuss it with him because frankly I’ve been shot at and sent back to Hell twice today, so I’m fresh out of fucks to give.’

He stood up and brushed some of the cigarette ash off of his black vest before making his way to the door.’

‘But wait!’ Leila shouted from the living room. ‘Where are you going?’

Faust turned around and stared at her angrily with his blood-red eyes. ‘I’m going to get my fucking coat back!’

And so ends the tale of the Orphan… and the Contractor.