Trail 59 (Pt. 2): And The Shadows They Cast

Trail 59 (Pt. 2): And The Shadows They Cast

--- Jon ---

DeSade gave him an amused if patronizing look, before asking, “How is your mother doing?”

“What do you want?” He snarled, not in the mood for these games on what was supposed to be a good day.

“To ask how your mother is doing.” DeSade answered dryly. “Which is why I asked.”

He growled at the Devil of Blackwell, the Beast inside his head tempted to go for the man’s throat even if he knew it wouldn’t work.

DeSade merely shook his head with a put upon sigh as he set his glass down. “Really now Jon, I don’t know why you’re being so aggressive. I haven't done anything to harm you or your family. Quite the opposite really.”

“Why are you here?”

DeSade gave him a dry look before rolling his eyes. “I’ve been asked to deal with a problem involving a local Demon. The Halloween Horror I believe the locals call it. An entity I believe you’re more than familiar with after recent events.”

“And why would you think that?” He wondered, a mocking edge to his words.

The pressure in the room grew until the very air itself seemed to change color.

“Because we both know it’s what’s responsible for your mother being hospitalized.” DeSade told him eyes turning red for a brief moment. “Something I’m fully aware of due to noticing some interesting similarities between how several of the Horror’s minions were dispatched and how many of Blackwell’s Corrupted were killed. Now are you willing to talk or are you going to continue pretending I’m the villain of your story?”

He met the unblinking gaze of the Devil of Blackwell before letting out a reluctant sigh and forcing himself to take a seat across from the man, a small coffee table separating their two couches.

“Glad you’re feeling reasonable.” DeSade nodded as he adjusted the buttons of his suit. “Now then how much of this situation are you aware of?”

He gave DeSade one last glare before explaining that, “The founders of this city and its sister cities all sealed a Demon away a hundred years ago. Unfortunately, they screwed the seal up and now the Demon has three bodies gathering power. Each year its minions try to find and break the seal, this year they succeeded with this city’s. Me and a few… associates were close enough to drive it back.”

“Yes, aside from your involvement, that is the story provided by the local researcher in charge of monitoring the Seal as well as her apprentice’s testimony.” DeSade gave him a mildly curious look. “I’m assuming there’s a reason you’re never mentioned in the report?”

“We cut the Demon’s arm off. Artemis wanted to keep quiet on that.” He shrugged, figuring that at worst DeSade would try to buy the arm off of them or-

“Ah, very good.” DeSade nodded, with what many would mistake as pride. “Let me know if you’d like any advice on how to work with Dark Materials. I’m assuming you are using it as research material, yes?”

(The law doesn’t matter much to a ‘Dark Lord’.) He thought wryly.

“Yeah, also negotiated a double cut for myself.” That wasn’t how it actually happened given how Artemis was paying him to help her and take her side, but he felt it was the kind of thing DeSade wanted to hear.

DeSade gave him a little smile. “Wonderful. Now as I stated previously, as the closest Dark Lord to the city I’ve been asked to inspect and strengthen the Seal so that this doesn’t happen again. Which presents us with a unique opportunity.”

“Us?” He frowned, knowing that there was a catch in this.

“Yes, us. Though more specifically you.” DeSade confirmed his words and intent to use him. “Now I can quite easily do what has been asked of me and confirm the current theory about the Horror’s trifurcation while strengthening the seal, but alternatively… I could offer you a second shot at your quarry.”

“And why exactly would I want to pick a fight with a Demon that’s no longer my problem?” He wasn’t stupid enough to go looking for a fight with something he’d barely walked away from the first time he’d fought it so soon after.

DeSade’s eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. “While it’s true that the Demon is no longer your problem, that doesn’t mean it won’t remain a problem for the city as a whole. Even if I were to strengthen this city’s seal it wouldn’t prevent its forces from continuing to seek the seal in the future years and simply destroying its anchor. Something all the more likely given how they now know where the seal is in this city.”

“That still sounds like a problem for Sanctuary and the Hero’s Guild.” He reiterated.

“Oh?” DeSade blinked, the slightly exaggerated nature underlining how it was calculated. “So you’re not interested in revenge for your mother?”

“No, I’m not.” He wasn’t going to lie to himself, he knew that if his Ma hadn’t woken up today he’d take DeSade’s offer in a heartbeat, but he wasn’t going to risk getting hurt when she needed him. (And DeSade has to realize that… Which makes it all the stranger he waited until the day she woke up to make this offer because he’d only be here today if he’d been watching and waiting…)

His eyes narrowed and DeSade’s mouth smirked.

“Very good.” DeSade assured him. “If Rosalind was ever in your position I’d hope she’d make the same decision. While vengeance can be a powerful motivator, you’ll find with most Demons it actually plays into their favor. If you were to go after the Horror again I’d push for a properly suitable motivation beforehand.”

“Such as?” He wondered.

“Depends on the Demon and the Hunter I suppose.” DeSade shrugged, knowing that they were both aware of the man purposely sidestepping his question. “Though as I said I’m glad you’re choosing the selfish option here. It would be so shameful -and embarrassing- if my first apprentice were to get himself killed in some foolish endeavor to be a hero.”

“I’m not a hero.” He sighed. “I just do what needs to be done.” (And help who I can hoping that’s enough…)

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“Oh, I’m aware.” DeSade nodded. “One of the few reasons I’m willing to continue this relationship after our business in Blackwell concluded. You’re one of the few people who understand that the world is not fixed by those with… heroic aspirations but rather those willing to march through the filth.”

Just because he had no intention of becoming a ‘hero’ he had no intention of ‘getting his hands filthy’ either, after all he was more than aware that, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“Which is why you really should make friends with your Devil first.” DeSade smirked, before taking another sip of his wine glass.

He watched DeSade for another moment, knowing that the following silence was some kind of powerplay or test, before eventually giving in as he let out a reluctant sigh, “Why are you really here DeSade? We both know I wouldn’t have gone on some suicide mission, mostly because I couldn’t go on one until you offered me it.”

“True, and while I’m glad you’re not rushing in for some emotional reason, the Horror is still something that needs to be dealt with.” DeSade explained. “As I said, I could simply seal it away and push the problem back a few more years but my ancestors making that mistake is how we wound up with the Beast of Blackwell.”

“So you want a more permanent solution.” He figured.

“Yes,” DeSade nodded. “And given how you dealt with the Beast and how you’ve a possible grudge with the Horror I decided to see if you wanted to finish your prey off. I’ve told the locals it’ll take me until the end of the month, plenty of time to set you up to kill the beast should you feel like it.”

“That’s nice, but… I already told you it’s not my problem.” As much as he’d like to sink his teeth into the Horror, he wasn’t going to risk leaving his Ma alone to do it. “If you want the Horror dead you’re going to have to get your own hands dirty.”

“No matter how strong you are, a Demon is a threat. And I do have a daughter.” DeSade reminded him. “Of course, that threat is largely mitigated if you meet a certain… criteria.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “And let me guess, I just so happen to meet that criteria?”

“If you were to fight the Horror it would take a fraction of the power I would require. Which is part of the reason you were able to kill the Beast of Blackwell when I could not.” DeSade admitted. “Whatsmore, similarly to when you killed the Beast, if you were to kill the Horror the criteria would further shift in your favor for any other Demons you may face.”

“And what criteria is this exactly?” He pressed.

“One that, if you were to be made aware of too soon, would remove you from it.” DeSade explained in a way that told him less than nothing.

“Yeah, well this mysterious criteria sounds like a solid plan.” He scoffed. “At least until you get to the part where it all hinges on me saying yes to fighting a Demon who broke every bone in my body last time we fought?”

DeSade gave him an unimpressed look. “Come now Jon, don’t pretend you’re a coward. We both know you would happily fight the Horror until you were bloody, broken, and beaten to death if given a proper reason to. You’re admirably determined like that.”

“And what reason would I have to pick a fight with the Horror now that my Ma’s all better?” He wondered.

“Oh, the children of course.” DeSade answered, taking a sip of his glass.

He froze. “Children?”

DeSade waved his hand and a number of files appeared on the table, each depicting a number of comatose children strapped up and still (just like Ma was…)

“The Horror feeds on fear, and of course the more innocent the soul the more powerful the fear it produces.” DeSade explained as his eyes darted between every image. “Every year about several dozen children are hospitalized by the Horror and then forgotten about when they wake up, their innocence forever tarnished.”

His teeth grit as he saw every face.

“Of course, since you brought up the fact that your ‘Ma’ is all better, I should point out how that can very easily change during next Halloween when the Horror’s forces return once more.” DeSade continued. “Only this time with the advantage of actually knowing where to go to release their master upon this city that your mother just so happens to live in. While the odds of her specifically being attacked again are low, she is a police officer. One of the few quite focused on the protect aspect of protect and serve. Tell me, if she had to take another bite to protect someone, would she?”

(She would.) He swallowed, feeling hollow.

“And now that I think about it this problem isn’t just limited here either is it?” DeSade asked with a pause. “Don’t you have family in Luna Rosa? An uncle and two cousins I believe.”

“Shut up…” He mumbled.

“What would happen if your little cousin were to have a nightmare next year and draw the monsters down on his family? Do you think your uncle would take a bite to protect them?”

“Shut up…”

“It would be a shame if he were to lose a parent so young. No wait, he already lost his mother, didn't he? And your other cousin, she lost both her birth parents, to lose an adoptive on top of that?”

“I said shut up!” He snarled, lunging at sitting DeSade.

A hand wrapped around his throat and picked him off the ground with enough force that his own hands instinctively tried to pry it off of him.

DeSade brought him to eye level and coldly examined him, his grip unfaltering. “Yes, I think you’re properly motivated now.”

Just as he was about to swing on DeSade’s face to try and get the man to release him, DeSade instead threw him against the couch with enough force to send it skidding back.

He picked himself up with a growl as he glared at the Devil of Blackwell, who looked back with mild disgust. “Don’t forget apprentice, our job is to be the thing beasts fear, not to become beasts ourselves. Get yourself under control.”

With grit teeth he forced himself to slow down his breathing, wanting nothing more than to rip DeSade’s throat out with his teeth as he rubbed the growing bruise on his own.

After a moment DeSade nodded. “You need to keep your Insanity under control lest it will consume you. Either it’s on your leash or you are on its.”

“I’ve… I’ve got it under control.” He said.

DeSade watched him for a moment, before shaking his head. “As you’ve repeatedly said in regards to the other Beast in the city, it’s not my problem. But if you lose control like that around my daughter, I will put you down, Whitaker.”

“I’ve got it.” He repeated, forcing down the growl that wanted to escape his throat.

“Good.” DeSade nodded as he adjusted his clothing.

He watched DeSade for a moment, just as DeSade watched him.

“What do you want?” He asked, when the soreness in his throat began to fade. “No more games, just… What do you want from me exactly?”

“The Horror is a threat that we as Dark Practitioners are honor and duty bound to eliminate.” DeSade told him, waving his hand as a cool-warmth spread through the healing bruises on Jon’s throat. “If you want to kill the Demon you need conviction. And I mean that quite literally, the stronger your Will the less of a hold the Demon will have on you. The first half of this conversation was me testing your conviction now that your mother is well. Which you did not. So I made the stakes of this threat quite clear.”

DeSade gained a mildly disgusted look. “At which point you gave into your Insanity rather than controlling it. A sign that your life will be quite short and violent if you can’t get it under control. Not to mention the threat you’ll be to everyone in your life up to that death.”

He couldn’t help but grimace at that, knowing that DeSade had a point. Even if he knew the Beast in his head wouldn’t hurt the people he cared about. (I just couldn’t care less if DeSade died…)

DeSade watched him for another moment before nodding. “Here’s my offer. You will spend the next two weeks building yourself up to fight the Horror. During which I will offer you whatever knowledge you think will aid your hunt, before giving you the opportunity to fight the Demon while hiding any evidence of the fight from prying eyes. If you reject this, I’ll deal with the Horror myself, and sever all contact between you and my family. As clearly I’ll have been wrong about what kind of man you are, Jon Whitaker.”

With his piece said, DeSade offered his hand.