Rise of the Magnificent Seven
(Demon Hunters Prologue)
Dante’s feet flew over the pavement, trying to escape the demon. The little boy’s hands slipped into his jeans, trying to find the salt that he always carried with him; he would have used that small vial of holy water that his mom insisted he carried, but this was the second demon of the night, and Dante’s holy water was gone. Dante scraped his fingers deep in his pockets, picking up nothing but grit under his nails.
Apparently, so was his salt.
Giving up on the salt, Dante bent his head, locks of strawberry blonde hair falling in front of his green eyes as he poured everything he had into staying ahead of the hell hound. He heard it behind him, snapping and growling at his heels, hungry for the power it felt radiating off of him. Things had gotten bad for everybody since the demons rose out of hell five years ago, but it was even worse for eight year-old Dante than it was for most people. Most of the time, the demons just toyed with people for a moment or two before they ate their poor victims. Occasionally, someone proved to be strong enough to hold off the demons for a little while, but people rarely proved themselves to have enough stamina for much beyond that. But not little Dante. The demons wanted him for a whole different reason than they wanted other mortals. They didn’t want him because they wanted to eat him. They wanted to use Dante. He was half demon, one of the Gates for the Big Seven.
Moloch.
Dante turned another corner, only to find himself in a dead end ally. Spinning on his heel, the boy faced his pursuer, unable to hide the terror in his eyes as the hell hound stalked closer. These beasts were normally invisible, but the hafling could see this one just fine. It walked sideways toward him, its lips pulled back into a snarl, revealing sharp teeth dripping toxic saliva. It lashed its whip-like tail, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. But those eyes; God, they were pitch black and empty, and they left a dark pit of fear in Dante’s belly because he couldn’t see anything in them.
The boy’s fingers curled around the knife at his belt while his other hand wrapped around the cross that hung around his neck. There was no way he was getting out of this; the demon had him cornered, and the beast knew it. However, there was no way he was going without a fight. Hate him as much as he did, Dante knew that his ornery nature came from the demon Moloch himself. Dante wouldn’t be taken without the hell hound feeling pain; but even more than that, the boy was determined that the beast wouldn’t take him alive. Dante pulled the knife from his belt, a rim of red lining his eyes as he readied for the fight.
“Twila, get ‘em!”
A sharp whinny pierced the air, distracting both the hell hound and Dante. The hound spun around just in time to get hit square in its side with pounding hooves. Dante’s eyes widened as he saw the nightmare come down on the hell hound again, flames curling from her nostrils and a black fire burning in her eyes. The nightmare screamed again, and Dante nearly clapped his hands over his ears, his desire to block the dreadful sound out was that strong.
A hand curled around Dante’s, yanking the boy around as a young voice said in a rush, “Hurry! We need to go while she’s distracting the hound! Move, now!”
Dante didn’t need to be told twice. Recovering from the strangeness, the boy took off, following closely on the heels of his benefactor, a boy with dark hair that looked like he was around Dante’s age. The boys ran through the streets, passing doorways marked with devils traps and windowsills lined with salt, until at last they found refuge in a garden that had devil traps of its own at the entrance and even around the flower beds.
For a moment, neither one of the boys spoke, both of them focused on catching their breaths after their headlong flight. Dante’s heart rate had nearly returned to normal when a soft whicker broke the stillness of the night.
Lifting his head, Dante saw the nightmare from before standing just outside of the garden, blocked from entering by the devil’s traps. Before Dante could get his mind wrapped around this though, the other boy jumped to his feet, heading straight for the hell horse. Fear tightening his throat, Dante cried, “What are you doing? Don’t go near it!”
“It’s okay,” the boy said, reaching his hand out to the nightmare. Dante was amazed when, instead of taking a snap at the boy’s unguarded flesh, it instead nuzzled its nose against his palm, repeating the soft whicker that Dante now realized was a greeting. Looking over his shoulder, the boy revealed soft, pale violet eyes as he continued, “Twila’s my friend. She won’t hurt me, and she won’t hurt you, either. Come on girl, I grant you, and only you, permission to bypass the power of the trap that would bind you.”
With those words spoken, Dante felt the shiver in the air that meant the magic of the wards had shifted. The nightmare, Twila, tossed her head, giving a soft whinny of delight, before she stepped delicately over the painted traps; surprise went through Dante when he realized that she was being careful not to damage the devil’s trap!
Turning to face the other boy, Dante realized something else about the boy now that Dante himself had calmed down. The boy was like him, there was no way around it; Dante could feel the demon magic pulsing through the other halfling’s veins, acting like just as much of a glowing beacon as Dante.
It seemed that the other boy had realized that Dante had reached the inevitable conclusion. Turning his attention from Twila, he said somberly, “Lucas Thorne.” Then, carefully, he held his hand out, his fingers already long and thin despite his age.
Taking the offer, Dante pulled himself to his feet before he placed his hand in Lucas’ as he said, “Dante Ascher. What…?”
Dante’s voice had trailed off, but Lucas knew just where he’d been about to go. A sour look twisting his face, Lucas said softly, “Supurbia.”
Okay, that did make Dante step back for a moment. Pride. Lucas had been fathered by none other than
Lucifer himself?!
Lucas flinched as Dante backed away from him; even though he tried to hide the action, Dante still saw it, and he saw how hurt Lucas looked. Dante felt bad about it almost immediately. How could Dante judge Lucas for the same cursed twist of fate that Dante had borne his whole life as well? Even if Lucifer, the fallen angel that had started the whole war between heaven and hell, was his father, Lucas was still a kid like Dante, forced to be on the outs of things just because of the circumstances behind his being on this Earth. Dante couldn’t treat Lucas like a pariah.
He’d had enough of that treatment himself.
Dante smiled at Lucas, trying to ease away some of the other boy’s pain. Doing his best to break past his own shame, Dante whispered, “Ira.”
Lucas, seeming to have realized what Dante was thinking, relaxed slightly as he said, “Wrath? Like as in Moloch? Who’d have figured on the chances of us meeting up?"
"Think there are others?”
“I don’t know,” Lucas said, shrugging as he did. But even so, Dante saw the light flicker in his eyes as Dante’s question brought Lucas some hope that the two of them weren’t alone. “Maybe?”
Slowly, the two boys started walking, one on either side of Twila. For the first time in a while, Dante wasn’t too scared of what the night held. Glancing over the nightmare’s back, Dante just caught a glimpse of Lucas as the other boy peered at him with those violet eyes of his. A slight grin breaking across Dante’s face, he asked, “Do you wanna try looking and see?”
“Yeah!”
“And then?” Dante was seriously curious about what his new brother thought. Surprisingly, Lucas had had the same idea that Dante had. Lucas spoke quietly, but Dante still heard every word that the other boy said.
“Then we take down the Big Seven, and end this war.”
Spoiler Show
Though I'm not 100% sure that what I wrote for the multiverse story counts, but... I guess it kinda does? Maybe? <.<; But anywho, here's my stories for the Multiverse Story and Song Story challenges!