Son of Darkness

Poisonous Apples

Hay, I'm back. Same as before the copyright thing.

So enjoy chapter 2

24 hours before waking up in the snow

High on a jagged mountain of sulfur and brimstone, Faras watched as once more Gabriel murdered yet another of his enemy, the Fade. How many victims that made in the past hour alone, the demon could not say. He'd long since lost count. And even if he paused to do a tally, the answer would have changed a second later as yet another three bodies fell to the slick, blood-coated blades the warrior prince wielded.

Yeah, that's right a prince...but not just a son of some lowly king, no Gabriel Styxx was the son of the Devil himself and some powerful fallen angel he never knew, which made him all the more important.

Of course, the panting, sweat-soaked Gabriel spun to engage two others, his motions fluid, lethally graceful....as unstoppable as a hurricane. At first, he played. A punch, cracking bone. A kick, smashing lungs. Laughing, spouting the worst of curses. Soon none of that was enough for the demon prince, and he danced his blades over the tendons in their ankles, hobbling his prey for easier elimination.

Gabriel had made himself bait to purposely draw these Fades to him. They'd come eagerly, happily, intending on killing the vile half demon and finally end him. So Faras could not fault the warrior for what he did to defend himself, even as ten new bodies joined the two already mountainous piles enveloped by a sea of crimson and black. And yet, he could not commend the warrior, either.

These were not mercy slayings or even carried out in the name of a cold and calculated vengeance birthed in the lower parts of an equally cold rage. No, these were a spew of fire, hate and bloodlust hotter than anything Hell had ever created.

"He is like a poisoned apple," Faras said with a smile to the demon beside him. "Poison of this nature spreads slowly but corrupts absolutely."

Small flames fell by Faras, as they always fell around these days, his breath losing oxygen. Every flame was to be a reminder of his own crimes, so recently brought to his attention. But unlike Gabriel, he did not wear bloodlust and hate like a winter coat, hugging it close to his body, relying on it, feeding it, helping it grow. Faras cared for nothing, not aymore.

Sad really, considering Faras was Gabriel's old mentor and he himself was a demon albeit a hundred thousand years older but still able to fight. When he was assigned Gabriel, he thought to himself that there is no way this guy can even handle his training, but to his surprise Gabriel did and even beat the shit out of Faras afterwards. Hell he was still wincing now and then when he moves: five broken ribs, cracked bone in his left arm and right leg.

He was going to have to send Gabriel to earth soon.....he just hoped that he doesn't find out before then.

"As succulent as others consider this particular apple," Dala proclaimed in a sexual but jealous way, "they will be willing to taste anything he offers."

Faras moved his gaze to the woman who had taught him how to survive on the battlefield all to long ago.

The tendrils of smoke that had marked Dala's appearance now curled away from her, thinning out to reveal a skimpy, silk black dress. The thick straps on her shoulders veed to frame heavy cleavage before dipping past her navel. The length of her silky hair over one sun-kissed shoulder.

One thing was certain. Gabriel would hate him, and would, perhaps, do more than rage. There was no stopping that, not when so much darkness swirled inside him, far worst than any poison. But that wouldn't stop Faras from fulfilling his duty.

Nothing would.