Hellbound Twins

Chapter 10 — Arthur | The Prophecy

We're at a motel sixty kilometers from Coldwater. We're finally safe.

The civilians are safe — we dropped them at the hospital in the next town over. Anonymous call. We were gone before the questions started. That's always how we do it.

Dad is sitting on the bed. He's eaten — two sandwiches, a soup from the vending machine in the hallway, three coffees. He didn't complain once.

When Marcus Voss eats without complaining, he's really running on empty.

Elidja cleaned his wounds in silence. Two broken ribs, bruises everywhere, a deep cut on his left forearm. Dad winced once. Just once.

"How are you feeling now? You've lost your touch, it seems," says Dad.

Now the three of us are sitting in this room that smells like cheap air freshener and old cigars. TV off. Rain outside.

Dad sets the journal on the bed between us.

"Lock the door," he says.

I lock it.

"Salt," he says. I do as he says.

Elidja pulls the salt from his bag and pours a thick line in front of the door and windows without being asked. Old habit. We've never slept without salt since we were kids.

Dad looks at us both for a long moment.

"What I'm about to tell you," he begins, "you're not going to like."

"We never like what you tell us," says Elidja.

A small smile crosses Dad's face. The first one since we found him.

"The door," he says. "The one the demons have been preparing for months." He opens the journal to a page covered in symbols and notes. "It's not an ordinary door. It's a seal."

"A seal for what?" I ask.

"A prison seal." He looks at us. "A very long time ago — before human history — a war broke out. Between angels and demons. The angels won. They locked the most powerful demon in existence inside a cage." He places his finger on a symbol in the journal. "Lucifer."

The name drops into the room like a stone into water.

"Lucifer," Elidja repeats softly.

"The demons aren't just trying to invade the earth," Dad continues. "They're trying to break the seal. Open the cage. Free their master." He closes the journal. "And based on what I found — and what I heard over three weeks in that farm — they're close."

"How long?" I ask.

"Weeks. Maybe less."

Silence.

"The demon we saw in the forest," says Elidja. "The one who let us go."

"Azazel." Dad says the name carefully. Like speaking it aloud is already dangerous. "A general. One of the oldest."

"He's coordinating everything — the possessions, the summoning circles, the creature armies." He looks at us. "He let you go because you mean nothing to him right now. He has a much bigger plan."

"And what do we mean in that plan?" I ask.

Dad hesitates.

It's the first time I've ever seen Marcus Voss hesitate.

"In the journal," he says slowly, "there's a prophecy. An ancient one. I found it in the archives of an old hunter who died fifty years ago." He opens the journal to the last page. A page covered in tight handwriting, different from the rest — older, almost illegible. "It speaks of two brothers. Sons of a hunter. Destined to stand at the center of the coming war."

The silence that follows is different from the others.

Elidja looks at me.

I look at Elidja.

We look at Dad.

"Us," says Elidja. Not a question.

Dad closes the journal.

"I don't know." His voice is tired. Honest. "Maybe. Probably." He sets the journal on the bed. "That's why Azazel let you go. He saw you. He knows who you are." A pause. "He doesn't want to kill you."

"What does he want, then?" I ask.

Dad looks at us for a long moment.

"He wants to use you."

Outside, the rain keeps falling.

In the room, the three of us stay silent. The journal between us on the bed. Three hunters — an exhausted father, two sons who were just beginning to understand what they'd gotten themselves into.

Elidja speaks first.

"So we have a choice," he says. "We hide. Or we fight," says Elidja.

Dad and I look at him.

He shrugs.

"Just asking the question."

Dad picks up the journal. Tucks it back inside his jacket. Against his heart, like always.

"The Voss family doesn't hide," he says.

I look at the rain through the window.

Lucifer. A prophecy. A demon general who let us go on purpose.

"Three weeks ago, I was in a clean apartment with law books and a girlfriend named Lisa."

Welcome to your real life, Elidja.

"What do we do now?" I ask.

Dad opens the journal to the first page. A list of names. Places. Contacts.

"We call for backup," he says. "There are other hunters. People who know what's coming." He places his finger on a name. "And there's someone who knows more than I do about the seals and the prophecy."

"Who?" asks Arthur.

"An elder." He closes the journal. "Someone who fought Azazel before. A long time ago." A pause. "If he's still alive."

We look at each other in this dingy motel room.

The rain falls.

The salt is on the floor.

And somewhere out there in the night — the door keeps opening.

Dad always explains how to proceed. He also tells us about this famous friend we have to go see.

"I hope you understand the importance of this situation," he says.

"Yes, Dad."

"Great, so let's get ready to visit him. It's a long road ahead of us, my children, and not an easy adventure."

——

The first one lunged toward...

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