Beautiful Revenge. J Morris L
have asked many of you to take on additional duties,’ the Light Bearer said. ‘You have been working in secret, ignorant of each other and the parts you play. Now that you know our aims we can go forward as a group.
Lucifer snapped his fingers and pointed at the Cursed Accuser.
‘Mastema, you were late so you can go first. Fill the Board in on your assignment but be brief, we have a lot to get through.’
‘Of course, Master,’ the Tempter of Men said as he rose. ‘I have been tasked with unravelling the secrets of the Internet. Kaarl found a way to bring it to our realm but we have lacked an expert amongst our ranks. Therefore I have been studying it intensely to fill that role. Thanks to my diligence and formidable intellect I now have the ability to answer any question we might have about the modern Mortal and its world.’
‘Really?’ scoffed Pyro, the Lord of Deceit. ‘Even for a braggart like you that is a big call.’
‘Any question,’ repeated Mastema, placing his palms on the table. ‘You give it to me, I can answer it. You name a subject and I’ll tell you anything and everything you need to know about it. If you’d like to start wagering against my abilities, I welcome all challengers.’
‘I knew I kept you around for something,’ replied Lucifer. ‘Have you learnt anything important from your studies?’
‘Mortals enjoy kittens that talk, pornography, and giving each other updates on their boring and mundane existences, seemingly in that order. Pictures of food that they are about to eat also rate highly.’
‘He is lying,’ shouted Pyro. ‘No one is that stupid.’
‘It also seems there was a great conflict between pirates and ninjas. Reports were sketchy as to which side won and I recently found evidence that suggests it may be still going on.’
‘Fascinating,’ said Lucifer, as he motioned for Mastema to sit. ‘From now on you shall be working closely with Nergal and Persephone. I understand we lack the knowledge to move this…“Internet” from your mansion to a more secure location so that will have to do as a meeting place.’
As the other Lords began recounting their new duties Mastema quickly put together the pieces. The Horsemen and Persephone were being sent to the Mortal realm to start a war, one that would consume their entire world. Although not mentioned specifically, it was also clear that the majority of the Mortals would need to be forced by fear or frustration into acts of depravity before their deaths. It was often the innocent more than the sinful that suffered and died during wars and Perdition could not allow that to happen. Those souls would be lost to them forever; more tallies against them on a board that was already heavily skewed towards the opposition. The details of how they would do it, the most important part of any plan, had not been finalised but the overall goal was obvious.
It was an ambitious play, one Mastema would have been proud to be a part of had he not been so sure it would eat into his golfing time for the foreseeable future. With his role already discussed and the overall objective clear, the mystery was gone and Mastema soon lost interest in the meeting.
‘Give me some of those budget handouts,’ he whispered to Asteroth as Abaddon outlined the projected timeline for the venture.
‘Of course,’ the Treasurer replied. ‘At least someone besides Lucifer recognises the significance of my work. How many do you need?’
‘I’ll probably need the whole stack,’ said Mastema, patting his stomach. ‘The executive bathroom is out of toilet paper and I had a large breakfast.’
Chapter Three: The quickest way to a man’s heart
Deep in the bowels of Mastema’s grey stone mansion Nergal floated back and forth like a freshly caged tiger with ADD. The leader of Hell’s Secret Police and Bringer of Lucifer’s Divine Justice had been relegated to little more than a babysitter. Nergal knew that sentiment wasn’t entirely fair; the girl had potential, he could see that, and she was far easier to stomach that her brother had been. Damon had been arrogant and ignorant; he had thought himself greater than his father and that hubris had been his downfall.
Nergal decided it was the surroundings that were responsible for his foul mood; being in Kaarl’s old room hours on end every day for three weeks had begun to take its toll. Perdition’s most famous traitor, the boy who had thwarted Nergal’s mission to help Damon, had lived in that very room. The place had become a constant reminder of his failure and the fact that Nergal was stuck with the boy’s father made it even worse. Like almost all of Perdition he hated Mastema; the good-looking, arrogant, quick-witted and lucky fool who somehow had retained his position despite centuries of tardiness, half-assed work and hastily covered mistakes.
While Persephone examined Kaarl’s belongings the Cursed Accuser sat hunched over a glass panel. It served as a monitor and had been Kaarl’s only real link to the Mortal world before he had struck his deal with Lucifer.
‘This is another fine example,’ said Mastema. ‘Not quite related to our mission but –’
‘It’s a picture of a cat wearing shoes,’ said Nergal. ‘It is in no way whatsoever related to our mission.’
‘Well you haven’t asked me to look for new information for awhile,’ replied Mastema. ‘Seeing as we had some downtime I thought I might try and brighten our day a little. He does look rather dashing in his little shoes.’
‘That’s another thing,’ said Nergal. ‘You haven’t unravelled anything, all of your talk about hours of study and a formidable intellect was hot air. You just type whatever we ask into that “Google” thing and then click on the blue words. A monkey could do your job.’
‘I make it look that easy. You can’t do what I do.’
‘What was he like?’ asked Persephone. The question out of the blue stopped Nergal from solidifying and lacerating Mastema’s disgustingly handsome face.
‘I can’t say rightly,’ replied Mastema. ‘As far as cats go he is one of the better examples I’ve seen. It might just be the shoes though; I’ve developed a bit of a bias towards felines with good fashion sense.’
‘I meant Kaarl,’ said Persephone, putting a book back on its shelf. ‘We’ve spent a lot of time in this room but I’m still not getting a sense of the Demon he was.’
‘My favourite expression for him was “worthless waste of my seed”,’ said Mastema, ‘although “pansy” and “lily-livered Mortal lover” are close to the top spot.’
‘I didn’t ask what you thought of him,’ Persephone replied. ‘I asked what he was like. You hold your son in low regard yet he got the best of my father, my brother, Nergal and every other Demon sent up there to stop him.’
‘He had help in all that,’ said Mastema. ‘He had Gabriel and as if that weren’t enough, the Angel of Death and Destruction as well.’
‘Father believes most of it was because of Kaarl,’ replied Persephone. ‘He said Gabriel and Samkiel were little more than the muscle. I think he admires your son.’
‘That’s ridiculous, the boy is a traitor.’
‘Kaarl turned against the only master he had ever known and walked his own path. In spite of everything else that happened I’m sure my father can appreciate that, if only for the irony.’
Distractions and sidetracking during the meetings had worn thin with Nergal. Normally it was Mastema who was the cause of the delays; clicking on the myriad of colourful things that popped up as they were meant to be researching. The fool had spent hours trying to order erectile dysfunction pills for Abaddon. Persephone had often stayed silent; besides the odd comment or question she had spent an inordinate amount of time studying Kaarl’s personal effects. It was unusual for her to veer off-topic and it was something that needed to be corrected before it became a habit.