The Devil's Crown

LVI Foreign Words.

“They are going to regret acting smart with me,” Samael mumbled.

“S-Samael,” Allen uttered weakly, not daring to move a limp. “What are you doing?!”

Allen’s eyes tried to keep up with Samael’s movements. Whatever he had on protecting him against the bullets was now gone, the bullets rained on the opposite wall causing crumbs to scatter everywhere.

As Samael grabbed one of the soldiers, he went past West, that was when West caught his first glance of the fury that was in his eyes. The golden shimmer was shining so brilliantly that it could burn anyone. He never took Samael as the one to get angry…genuinely angry. This was important to him as it is important to them. Despite the blood that was rolling down his cheek, it burnt with determination.

“What are you doing, Samael?” West muttered his voice trembling from the slamming of his heart.

No reply came at all. Samael didn’t seem to be straight on ignoring them, he didn’t even see them. His mind was focused as the pain shot through his body, feeling his insides literally burn. It shook his whole body into focus at the pain. The present moment. And the solid grip on one of the soldiers as he yanked him as a shield marching forward towards the opened doors.

The bullets pierced the man like rainfall. The sudden shock of pain yelped him awake, the whole floor was filled with screams and cries as blood splattered on Samael’s figure behind the now dead body. The blood was socking the once white uniform to the brim, till the point that it seemed to the floor like an open tap.

It was before long that the deafening sound of the bullets stopped rocking their heads. Allen slowly took his hands off of his ears as he dared to glance at the bloody scene in front of him. The soldier was dangling lifelessly from Samael’s grip, and he had no thought of letting the dead man go. He swiftly took hold of the last prey that was left alive.

The remaining soldier was now awake from the sound, he tossed and turned in Samael’s grip but it was too strong for a wounded man. Allen had to wonder where Samael got the strength to lift two men up in the air. He never hesitated for a second after he secured his grip and walked forward into the terrace once again, despite the protests and rejection from both of the Rebels.

The blinding ray of the sun showered the terrace, creating almost an ancient painting from the times of war. The first kill was still dangling halfway out on the handrail, it only had holes in its now rotting flesh. No blood fell from the corpse only the smell of death enhanced by the heat from the sun.

Finally, Samael decided to toss over the corpse in his hand to fall on the blood with a loud thud. Gasps rang loud in the air but deaf to Samael’s ears.

To all surprise, the loud chuckling echoed in every cranny with his head thrown back with the force. The screen now hands Samael’s blood-stained face on full display, a gruesome scene to look at. In the back of his mind, he hoped that his sister Joanna wasn’t watching this. 

“Congratulations Generals!” Samael exclaimed, his voice wasn’t sane. “You just killed your own men!”

“YOU HYPOCRITE!” General Akimov yelled out, his voice ringing in the mic. “With all your big talk about freedom and here you are killing my men!”

“Your men?” Samael quoted with faked ignorance. “So you admit that they are yours!”

“Do you think they were armed and sent here to give us a cuddle as they escorted us out?!” Samael spat out. “Should I have sat down with my tail between my legs and offered my head! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”

Samael stopped to catch his breath. “All we wanted is our comrades out!” he added. “If you have been cooperating with us all this wouldn’t have happened! All this blood that I stand on wouldn’t have been spilled! But no, there was no way that you would tarnish your name when you are a nation whose obsessed with not being tarnished! Do you think this is going to end with the death of us? No way in hell!”

Every word that was said on the spot was nothing other than the truth, and from the silence that roamed the outside plaza that was filled with people, Samael knew that he hit the nail on the head. A smile would have been on his dry lips right now but he was tired to waste his energy.

A faint echo started rising like a wave coming from the distant sea. It was a mere mumble that was literally deaf to Samael’s ears. The crowd was raising up with the call…

“JUST GIVE THEM WHAT THEY WANT!”

It was dominating all other sounds around them, there was nothing but the calls of the Nobles and maybe commoners as well. The Generals and his men were looking all around them at the furious people, nothing was holding them back except for the fence that was set to keep them out of the area.

“W-What are we supposed to do?” Toptenov said his voice breaking.

Things were getting out of hand. The crowd was siding with the Rebels for whatever reason…he feared that if they kept on demanding that, there was nothing that anyone could do.

“We shot them down,” said Akimov, his dark blue eyes were narrowed and fixed on the masked man up there. “That man is dead anyway.”

“Are you out of your mind!” Toptenov exclaimed. “I wanted a solution! A different solution because the previous one…didn’t turn out very well, now did it!” he pointed towards the raged bystanders.

The fence was rattling on loudly with the force of the crowd, Akimov could clearly see that. But there was no other way out of this! Giving in to their demands means that they are powerless against them! There has got to be another way.

“Prepare to fire!” Akimov yelled out the command.

The rattling stopped for a second in disbelief before it started again with shouts of protest.

“There are Nobles in there!”

“Just two commoners!”

“Hand them over!”

“Listen to them!” Toptenov dared to grab the other by the shoulder. “Every nobleman down is another burden that you have got to carry! They will have our heads Akimov! Our heads!”

There was no way to know if his words were of effect or were the withering with the air. A moment of silence has risen between the two of them before it was broken by the footsteps of a hurried soldier carry a letter.

“MY LORDS!” He yelled out. “My Lords! A letter from his highness the prince!”

Samael noticed the commotion happening down there, at this point, there was no hiding the smile that was found on his face. West and Allen were peeking through the wall to spectate. They saw for the first time…support. Support from the crowd, the same crowd that always cast them out. Labeled them as terrorists. Now they were down there, furious for them. It didn’t matter why they were doing this, what mattered is that they made an impact.  

All the cameras on the street below were focusing on the high platform where the two Generals quarreled. A young soldier came rushing in to hand them something. From the gloom that coated their faces, it was easy to expect that the news wasn’t what they have hoped for. The crowd beyond the fence froze as the news spread like wildfire that it was the word from the prince.

Samael had expected his interference if things got off the authorities' hands. Not to mention that today's events must be on every channel in Greater London. They loved attention…just not this kind of attention.

Akimov held the paper in his hands, hesitating for a moment. Whatever happened here with every command has taken must have reached the prince’s ears. Neither of the Generals was certain of the orders they gave, and none is prepared for the consequences that might befall them in this letter.

He wasted not a second more before yanking it open. His wary eyes scanned the content of the letter. It was before long that he crumpled the paper in his hand as he tightened his jaw hurting his gum. Toptenov’s eyes were glued to the other man’s face waiting for any sort of answer. There was no limiting the possibilities of the letter’s content.

“What does he say?” Toptenov dared to ask.

“Cease firing…” the words tasted so foreign on his tongue. “We hand them over the two prisoners…he wants it done now. The whole world watched…”

Toptenov for his own surprise wasn’t shocked by the orders. He wondered if Akimov was even supper when he gave out the order to fire, the whole world saw what happened. The whole world witnessed friendly fire shooting a soldier to the ground. 3 Nobles are no dead…the order wasn’t surprising.

Akimov turned to stare up at the two bodies upon the terrace, even from the distance he could make out their miserable bodies. He took a deep breath before holding the mic to his mouth….he had to say the words.

“Your comrades will be delivered to you in an hour's time,” he finally said. “It’s the prince’s orders.”