Coming Soon...
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Lucky, the Devil
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An excerpt from Clockwork Angels...
From chapter 9
In which Dajjaal is made uncomfortable
I will not tear his face off. I will not tear his face off. I will keep my cool. Even when he provokes me, I will not rip Dajjaal’s face off.
A mantra to center the mind. Lucky needed to be centered. He would also need massive amounts of patience and an occasional alacrity for non-lethal violence. He didn’t often derive pleasure from inflicting pain, not even on those that deserved it – which was almost everyone in Pandemonium. But questioning demons was a tough business, and Dajjaal was a loose cannon with a reputation for listening only to the voice in his head. Too often that voice spoke in basic verbs like rip, kill, and devour.
Lucifer had crossed paths with Dajjaal a handful of times across the centuries, and formed the opinion that a solid ass kicking would do the demon good. But there was an ancient tradition that each house took care of its own. Astrathul was good at promising to get his demons under control, and just as bad at keeping the promise. Tradition would not save the fiend this time.
The Devil stood outside the barrier and watched Dajjaal rocking back and forth on the stone floor, muttering under his breath. It was hard to make sense of his grumbling, but the name Lucifer was uttered several times - sandwiched between adjectives like motherfucker. Lucky decided to start things off on the right foot.
“Dajjaal,” he boomed, stepping through the barrier. The demon nearly separated from his skin before tottering like a drunkard. His rage was checked instantly when he realized who had scared him so badly.
“Yes, sir,” Dajjaal replied meekly, head bowed and hands folded. It was really amazing how fast they could change masks.
“Sit down, Dajjaal.”
“Where, sir?”
“In the chair.”
“What ch--” There was a chair behind him that hadn’t been there a moment before.
“I am going to ask you some questions,” Lucky said, “and I expect to get straight answers. I don’t--” Lucky paused thoughtfully. “I was going to say I don’t want to hurt you. But if I am to be honest, I can’t say that. I would love to hurt you, Dajjaal. If you lie to me, or I think you’re lying to me, I’ll tear your arm off and beat you with it. If you hold anything back, I’ll set you on fire and put you out with a sledgehammer. In fact, you’re going to have to work very hard to finish this interview. Do you understand everything I’ve just said?”
Dajjaal nodded vigorously.
“Wonderful,” Lucky said, crossing his arms and leaning against the stone. “Please illuminate.”
“Huh?”
“Why were you in New York?”
“New York? When?”
Dajjaal was slapped across the face so hard the world lurched. Lucifer casually picked at the wall, as if he had not moved at all.
“Oh!” Dajjaal cried. “New York! I thought you said Newark. I mean, why would anyone go to New Jersey?”
“Exactly.”
“I was in New York attempting to carry out our noble mission.”
Dajjaal was knocked sideways by a lightening bolt of a smack to the other side of his face. “Ahhhh! Fuck! Motherfucker!” He doubled over when what felt like a semi-truck slammed into his stomach. He wheezed for several moments before catching his breath. “Cock-sucker-bitch-ass-fuck-cock-slut-cunt-motherfucker!” This time the truck crashed into his forehead and the chair tipped backwards. The demon gurgled, fighting down the urge to sing the ‘F’ song at the top of his voice. Lucifer cleaned his fingernails, pretending not to notice Dajjaal getting the shit kicked out of him.
“I would appreciate it if you refrained from using profanity.”
A volcanic ‘fuck you’ was checked in Dajjaal’s throat, just short of going Vesuvius. Lucky smiled without feeling.
“What were you doing in New York?” He asked again, as if for the first time.
“I was looking for something to eat.”
“That’s better. Or at least more truthful. Go on.”
“Moloch talked me into it,” Dajjaal said, lies sparkling in his eyes, “He said we should go to the museum because there are lots of places to trap people there. It was a moment of weakness on my part, I admit to that.”
“He paid for it. Is paying for it, I mean. Too bad you bit his head off, or I could question both of you. What about Cretch?”
“That motherfu-- That guy? He was at the museum when Moloch and I got there. I didn’t want anything to do with him, but he butted into our hunt.”
“Why didn’t you refuse him?”
“Right,” Dajjaal scoffed. “You don’t refuse Cretch. He might not be one of the bigwigs, but he’s crazy. Dangerous crazy. The shi-- The things he’s done scare even me.”
“I see. And the little girl?”
“I,” he paused, “I mean we, came on her totally by chance. I, he, wasn’t looking for anything specific.” Dajjaal’s voice grew stronger as he saw a light at the end of the lie. “I got caught up in the moment. Cretch kept urging me on, that we could share her. It would be just like the old days. Swallow her and no one would know. Of course I knew better, but I lost my head.” His expression looked hopeful.
“You haven’t lost your head, Dajjaal. Yet. I am very angry that you--”
“We, sir,” Dajjaal corrected gently with his index finger raised.
“That you,” Lucky continued sharply, “intended to consume a human. A child no less. Inexcusable, even if you were hunting a murderer or pedophile.”
“They don’t taste the same.”
“Again you miss the point. You aren’t supposed to be eating anyone.”
“I know,” the demon said, affecting a tone of sincere contrition. “I’m sorry. I should have more self-control.”
“Hmmm,” Lucky said thoughtfully. “And the other thing?”
“Other thing?”
Lucky smiled, stepping forward and slowly putting his hands into his pockets.
“Right,” Dajjaal said quickly. “The other thing. Sorry I tried to kill you.”
“As much as I appreciate your apology, I am looking for a bit more in terms of an explanation.”
“I…” he started falteringly, “…we… just lost control. I was frustrated, you see. The girl was taunting me. Kids these days have no respect. No fucking respect. If she had just let me alone, I wouldn’t have done anything to anyone. But she wouldn’t stop. My temper was up, and like, when you showed up, well, you know how it is. When you have your heart set on something, and then don’t get it, it’s easy to get frustrated and angry. I shouldn’t have. But Cretch...If he hadn’t gone after you, I certainly would not have. It was his fault, really. He just went crazy, and like, I lost it. If he were here he could say why he jumped at you like that. I don’t know. I just exploded. I will work on my self-control.”
“Who told you to take a shot at me?”
There was only the slightest pause before Dajjaal answered, “No one. What does that mean?”
“Let me get this straight. You are not in collusion with anyone?”
“What? No, of course not!” Dajjaal insisted, wondering what collusion meant.
“It means a secret agreement for gain, idiot. Let me remind you that if you lie to me, things will get very ugly very fast.”
“But you know about Cretch already,” Dajjaal said evasively. “I didn’t think I had to--”
“Not Cretch, dumb shit. Someone else. Someone smarter.”
“No, sir.”
Lucky stared searchingly into the demons black eyes for a long time. Dajjaal tried to look away but Lucifer held him, unblinking, reaching into the darkness behind for something secret, something hidden. Dajjaal struggled to keep his mind blank. Visions of plucking out Lucifer’s eyes and eating them were a bugger to hold at bay.
At last he was released. Dajjaal nodded and slumped as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Lucky sighed thoughtfully.
“I’m conflicted, Dajjaal,” he said. “Do I send you to the pits to roast slowly for a hundred years, or do I destroy you utterly where you sit?”
Dajjaal said nothing, pessimistic about the prospect of mustering anything for a last stand. The breathless moment stretched on, judgment hanging over him like the executioners axe.
Lucky shook his head at last, and in a flash of light and smoke he was gone. Dajjaal stared into space for some time, unsure what was happening. Would Lucifer suddenly appear with a torch in one hand and a sledgehammer over the shoulder? But nothing happened.
“Yeah, motherfucker,” Dajjaal muttered, his lip curling. “Run like a little bitch.”
Something hit him on both sides of the face at the same time, repeatedly and enthusiastically, until all he could see were the back of his eyelids. He could not remember blacking out, or how the world came back into focus. When he finally regained his senses, Dajjaal made a wise decision and did not speak again.
A mantra to center the mind. Lucky needed to be centered. He would also need massive amounts of patience and an occasional alacrity for non-lethal violence. He didn’t often derive pleasure from inflicting pain, not even on those that deserved it – which was almost everyone in Pandemonium. But questioning demons was a tough business, and Dajjaal was a loose cannon with a reputation for listening only to the voice in his head. Too often that voice spoke in basic verbs like rip, kill, and devour.
Lucifer had crossed paths with Dajjaal a handful of times across the centuries, and formed the opinion that a solid ass kicking would do the demon good. But there was an ancient tradition that each house took care of its own. Astrathul was good at promising to get his demons under control, and just as bad at keeping the promise. Tradition would not save the fiend this time.
The Devil stood outside the barrier and watched Dajjaal rocking back and forth on the stone floor, muttering under his breath. It was hard to make sense of his grumbling, but the name Lucifer was uttered several times - sandwiched between adjectives like motherfucker. Lucky decided to start things off on the right foot.
“Dajjaal,” he boomed, stepping through the barrier. The demon nearly separated from his skin before tottering like a drunkard. His rage was checked instantly when he realized who had scared him so badly.
“Yes, sir,” Dajjaal replied meekly, head bowed and hands folded. It was really amazing how fast they could change masks.
“Sit down, Dajjaal.”
“Where, sir?”
“In the chair.”
“What ch--” There was a chair behind him that hadn’t been there a moment before.
“I am going to ask you some questions,” Lucky said, “and I expect to get straight answers. I don’t--” Lucky paused thoughtfully. “I was going to say I don’t want to hurt you. But if I am to be honest, I can’t say that. I would love to hurt you, Dajjaal. If you lie to me, or I think you’re lying to me, I’ll tear your arm off and beat you with it. If you hold anything back, I’ll set you on fire and put you out with a sledgehammer. In fact, you’re going to have to work very hard to finish this interview. Do you understand everything I’ve just said?”
Dajjaal nodded vigorously.
“Wonderful,” Lucky said, crossing his arms and leaning against the stone. “Please illuminate.”
“Huh?”
“Why were you in New York?”
“New York? When?”
Dajjaal was slapped across the face so hard the world lurched. Lucifer casually picked at the wall, as if he had not moved at all.
“Oh!” Dajjaal cried. “New York! I thought you said Newark. I mean, why would anyone go to New Jersey?”
“Exactly.”
“I was in New York attempting to carry out our noble mission.”
Dajjaal was knocked sideways by a lightening bolt of a smack to the other side of his face. “Ahhhh! Fuck! Motherfucker!” He doubled over when what felt like a semi-truck slammed into his stomach. He wheezed for several moments before catching his breath. “Cock-sucker-bitch-ass-fuck-cock-slut-cunt-motherfucker!” This time the truck crashed into his forehead and the chair tipped backwards. The demon gurgled, fighting down the urge to sing the ‘F’ song at the top of his voice. Lucifer cleaned his fingernails, pretending not to notice Dajjaal getting the shit kicked out of him.
“I would appreciate it if you refrained from using profanity.”
A volcanic ‘fuck you’ was checked in Dajjaal’s throat, just short of going Vesuvius. Lucky smiled without feeling.
“What were you doing in New York?” He asked again, as if for the first time.
“I was looking for something to eat.”
“That’s better. Or at least more truthful. Go on.”
“Moloch talked me into it,” Dajjaal said, lies sparkling in his eyes, “He said we should go to the museum because there are lots of places to trap people there. It was a moment of weakness on my part, I admit to that.”
“He paid for it. Is paying for it, I mean. Too bad you bit his head off, or I could question both of you. What about Cretch?”
“That motherfu-- That guy? He was at the museum when Moloch and I got there. I didn’t want anything to do with him, but he butted into our hunt.”
“Why didn’t you refuse him?”
“Right,” Dajjaal scoffed. “You don’t refuse Cretch. He might not be one of the bigwigs, but he’s crazy. Dangerous crazy. The shi-- The things he’s done scare even me.”
“I see. And the little girl?”
“I,” he paused, “I mean we, came on her totally by chance. I, he, wasn’t looking for anything specific.” Dajjaal’s voice grew stronger as he saw a light at the end of the lie. “I got caught up in the moment. Cretch kept urging me on, that we could share her. It would be just like the old days. Swallow her and no one would know. Of course I knew better, but I lost my head.” His expression looked hopeful.
“You haven’t lost your head, Dajjaal. Yet. I am very angry that you--”
“We, sir,” Dajjaal corrected gently with his index finger raised.
“That you,” Lucky continued sharply, “intended to consume a human. A child no less. Inexcusable, even if you were hunting a murderer or pedophile.”
“They don’t taste the same.”
“Again you miss the point. You aren’t supposed to be eating anyone.”
“I know,” the demon said, affecting a tone of sincere contrition. “I’m sorry. I should have more self-control.”
“Hmmm,” Lucky said thoughtfully. “And the other thing?”
“Other thing?”
Lucky smiled, stepping forward and slowly putting his hands into his pockets.
“Right,” Dajjaal said quickly. “The other thing. Sorry I tried to kill you.”
“As much as I appreciate your apology, I am looking for a bit more in terms of an explanation.”
“I…” he started falteringly, “…we… just lost control. I was frustrated, you see. The girl was taunting me. Kids these days have no respect. No fucking respect. If she had just let me alone, I wouldn’t have done anything to anyone. But she wouldn’t stop. My temper was up, and like, when you showed up, well, you know how it is. When you have your heart set on something, and then don’t get it, it’s easy to get frustrated and angry. I shouldn’t have. But Cretch...If he hadn’t gone after you, I certainly would not have. It was his fault, really. He just went crazy, and like, I lost it. If he were here he could say why he jumped at you like that. I don’t know. I just exploded. I will work on my self-control.”
“Who told you to take a shot at me?”
There was only the slightest pause before Dajjaal answered, “No one. What does that mean?”
“Let me get this straight. You are not in collusion with anyone?”
“What? No, of course not!” Dajjaal insisted, wondering what collusion meant.
“It means a secret agreement for gain, idiot. Let me remind you that if you lie to me, things will get very ugly very fast.”
“But you know about Cretch already,” Dajjaal said evasively. “I didn’t think I had to--”
“Not Cretch, dumb shit. Someone else. Someone smarter.”
“No, sir.”
Lucky stared searchingly into the demons black eyes for a long time. Dajjaal tried to look away but Lucifer held him, unblinking, reaching into the darkness behind for something secret, something hidden. Dajjaal struggled to keep his mind blank. Visions of plucking out Lucifer’s eyes and eating them were a bugger to hold at bay.
At last he was released. Dajjaal nodded and slumped as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Lucky sighed thoughtfully.
“I’m conflicted, Dajjaal,” he said. “Do I send you to the pits to roast slowly for a hundred years, or do I destroy you utterly where you sit?”
Dajjaal said nothing, pessimistic about the prospect of mustering anything for a last stand. The breathless moment stretched on, judgment hanging over him like the executioners axe.
Lucky shook his head at last, and in a flash of light and smoke he was gone. Dajjaal stared into space for some time, unsure what was happening. Would Lucifer suddenly appear with a torch in one hand and a sledgehammer over the shoulder? But nothing happened.
“Yeah, motherfucker,” Dajjaal muttered, his lip curling. “Run like a little bitch.”
Something hit him on both sides of the face at the same time, repeatedly and enthusiastically, until all he could see were the back of his eyelids. He could not remember blacking out, or how the world came back into focus. When he finally regained his senses, Dajjaal made a wise decision and did not speak again.