Gabriel's Armada

Chapter 6: The Outpost

James looked behind him to make sure no one was trailing him and pulled his cowl firmly over his head.

His heart beat with each step he took, and with each breath he took, he reproached himself for leaving Teres alone.

He knew that as he was going through deserted routes, he was bound to come in contact with a horde of demons on patrol.

He vividly prayed against that.

James looked at the ruins that had once been a city and gritted his teeth, thinking Beelzebub had gone too far. He feared to think of what was left of the Outpost and it's guardians.

When James heard what seemed to be a footfall, he immediately hid behind a chunk of a wall that remained upright.

After sometime, when he heard nothing else, he emerged from his hiding place and quickened his steps although he was getting tired.

“I should rest, I've been at this since morning,” He mused, taking in the setting sun. But, he couldn't bring himself to. He had to get to the Outpost and see what he could do to help, nothing else mattered.

Muttering words of encouragement to himself, he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and carry on.

An hour later, James came to halt in front of where the tower that made up the Outpost was supposed to be. There, he saw an extensive amount of rubble on the ground. Squinting his eyes, he made out linens attached to the stones, swaying in the wind.

He closed his eyes as tears trickled down his cheeks.

James was sure the demons spared no one. When he opened his eyes, he forced himself to exhale due to the rage wreaking havoc on his system.

“Beelzebub, you will pay for attacking the Outpost!” He vowed, wiping away the tears that continued to flow like twin rivers.

“And who's going to make him, you?” A taunting voice asked from behind him.

James whirled around angrily to give whomever it was a taste of his wrath, and saw nobody.

“Yes, me!” James replied, beating his chest with rage.

The voice laughed mockingly at James, “Then you must have a death wish.”

“Just who do you think you are?” James growled, “Show me yourself, you coward.”

“Gladly.” The voice replied.

The next thing James saw was a fist coming out of nowhere, punching him in the face.

The force of the punch caused James to collapse, hitting his head on a huge chunk of stone. He sprawled out on the ground unconsciously.

The owner of the voice tutted pityingly and produced a pair of cords which he used to shackle James' limbs.

When he was through, he dragged James along by the cords, whistling an old tune to himself.

* * *

When James came to, he tried to open his eyes. His left eye opened with no difficulty, but his right refused to open. It seemed like it had been plastered over by something. He tried to feel it with his hands but couldn't.

Looking down, he noticed he was bound on a chair. That was when he remembered the events of the past hours, and with recollection came pain.

His head began to pound and ache and he groaned aloud.

“Look who finally decided to join us.” A voice said.

James tried as hard as he could, to get his right eye to open. It finally did, and James realized that blood flowing from a gash on his head had coagulated over the eye. He took in his surroundings, a very dark room.

“Who are you?” He asked, peering to see the person who had spoken. He recognized the voice as that of the person who had knocked him out.

“An old friend.” The voice replied.

“Liar.” James cried, “No friend of mine would do this to me.”

The owner of the voice chuckled and came into view. It was a figure in a black cloak with the cowl pulled up to obstruct his face.

“Sometimes, you might not know it, but something you think is bad is actually for the best.”

James hissed and kept quiet.

“So, for the reason I brought you here; where is Gabriel?” The figure asked.

“Who?” James asked, feigning ignorance.

The figure sighed impatiently, “Don't play with me. Gabriel. Gabriel Sinator. You brought him into the Afterlife some days ago.”

James burst into laughter, “Do you really expect me to remember? Do you know how many people come through the Outpost into the Afterlife everyday?”

The figure nodded and came closer, “Yes, I expect you to remember. After all, you escaped with him and the Angel General.”

With those words, James knew he could no longer pretend he didn't know who Gabriel was.

“As you can see,” He shrugged, “We parted ways. They could be anywhere in the Afterlife by now.”

“Why don't I believe you?” The figure queried.

“Because you're stupid.” James replied with utmost satisfaction.

He didn't expect the fist that crashed into his face once, then twice, then thrice.

The punches continued until James felt bones go crunch in his face. After what he thought to be the seventh punch, his face went numb and the rain of punches ceased.

“I'll ask you once again, where is Gabriel?” The figure asked, flexing his fingers.

James sat with his head lolled to one side. He grinned at his attacker, showing off a bloodied set of dentition, “Somewhere you'll never find him.”

The figure punched James again. This time, his fist came in contact with James' teeth, knocking out a few.

James spat blood at the figure, missing his cloak by a few inches. With great difficulty, he said, “Go back to Beelzebub and tell him he'll surely rue the day he decided to destroy the Outpost. I thought I could avenge my fellow guardians but it was stupid of me to think so.

Gabriel is the one the prophecy spoke of. He's already started his training. Soon, he will defeat Beelzebub!”

The figure chuckled, “Wishful thinking. Do you really believe Gabriel is going to defeat Beelzebub? Do you even believe that ridiculous prophecy?”

“With all my heart.” James said passionately.

“And that is why you're on the losing side. The angels are down to almost one percent of their former population, and the Outpost is no more because you all chose to stupidly and blindly believe a couple of sentences strung together made up by insane people.” The figure retorted.

“You will eat your words.” James laughed.

“We'll see.” The figure hissed, “But back to our discussion at hand; where is Gabriel Sinator?”

“You should have figured out by now that I'll never tell you.” James spat out.

The figure made a noise at the back of his throat, “Pity. I wanted to do this the easy way and spare you unneeded suffering and pain, but you have forced my hand with your obstinacy.”

“Do your worst.” James said bravely, although he was quivering on the inside. Seeing how he felt as a result of the figure's "easy way" treatment, he didn't want to think of what the hard way would feel like.

He swallowed and prayed, accepting his fate. He vowed never to divulge Gabriel's location no matter what was done to him.

The figure clapped, and two demons appeared from behind him.

James gagged at the offensive odour that emanated from the two demons. His heart palpitated wildly because from their stench, he knew they were no ordinary demons. Rather, they were death demons, a sadistic species who were gifted in torture. It was said a victim of theirs never remained the same.

The figure made out the look of abject fear on James' face and leaned in close, “This is your last chance to do things as painlessly as possible.”

Behind the figure, the death demons cackled in anticipation.

“Go to hell!” James said angrily.

“No,” The figure countered calmly, “You're the one going to hell.”