The Party

It's 11 pm. My body aches all over, bloody virus. The cold water reassures me that I can at least feel temperature changes. I take a peek at my reflection on the broken mirror. Red eyes, black eye-bags and a face pale and agonizing as if I just escaped Death. Though I would not wish that sort of predicament on anyone; Death is beautiful and reasonable, trying to out play her game though ticks her off.

Coat, cigarettes no need for a wallet, no money. As soon as I open the door the skin on my face reminds me again how cold feels like. It's freezing and I have a long way to walk.

---

It was about a month ago when I found a note on the door

Got a package for you, come pick it up.
-- Paul

Paul lives in the basement along with all the other creatures in the building. On first sight, Paul looks like he is one stick short of a bundle, a closer inspection reveals a resourceful and cunning character with a few skeletons in his past. He passed me a security envelope with padding, yet there was no indication that the envelope's contents was something fragile or even something of rigid form. Opened the envelope and a distinct aroma penetrated my nose. I know that smell.

"Friday 19th, midnight at the first church, top floor, tallest steeple.
-- L. "

Paul was trying to take a peek.

[Paul] All that fuss for a letter? What is she, married?
It's not that kind of an acquaintance. An old friend being mystical, that's all.
[Paul] Is your "friend" a reporter as well?
No. Listen, I'm exhausted, I'm going upstairs. Thanks for the letter and everything.
[Paul]What are friends for.

This is probably that old cunt, Lix. Midnight, top floor, tallest steeple, yeah that's him. Wind was his thing, the steeples were always a bit much but he kept doing that ever since he found out that Freudians always attributed phallic subtexts in such architectural structures. The cherry on the cake, of course, these steeples were predominantly found on churches. Old bastard. But, that smell. It can't be the πόνος. Humans can't smell or taste it. Sniffing the note frantically all the way up the stairs made me feel like a bloodhound. Yes, that is the smell it's for sure. The old bastard managed to give me a whiff of the brown powder.

Πόνος, pain, comes in small leather bags, brown and powdery. The condensation of all fear, despair and pain inflicted on human souls trapped in Hell. Think of it as cocaine for demons, the kicker, you can't die. After all death has a different meaning in hell, hahaha. Aw the memories, the parties with wine flowing, and I mean the good kind not the red grape juice these monkeys consider wine. Dancing, of course, and the dresses. I'll never forget lady 'Ashtart's dress in Dantalion's "Feast of Fools" party.

Her form almost human with a dark knitted dress the pattern of which one could only make out by going closer. So close in fact that you were really playing with your luck, or to put it another way, Dantalion's patience. They were something of a pair back then. Screaming faces, actual human skin, interconnected with a fine thread made out of eyelashes. While moving further and further away, still trying to grasp the design, a bigger picture unveiled itself. The whole dress, from a distance, formed the shape of a human skull. Her breasts, two eye-holes, the thin slim lines below her thorax formed the cheek bones and her mount of Venus the middle of the mouth. A mouth that spanned all the way back to her buttocks. Even though she might have gone through more trouble than usual to dress for this occasion, the lady was one who knew how to draw attention.

It's as if I am there now. She passed by me, her aura warm and spellbinding, winked at me and dropped a small leather bag in my hand whispering "North balcony". There overlooking Effrul with hot air rising, distant screams and with the smell of despair devouring us, I first tried the nectar. Bitter after taste and the feeling of a million ants crawling through my nose and into my lungs. We could barely stand up and so we used each others bodies as support. That feeling of freedom, untouched and unscarred by anything. That is all I could remember; the next morning I was found at the gates of my mansion, torn to shreds with my nose broken and my jaw semi-detached to the rest of my skull Dantalion's sign carved on my chest was all I needed to understand that the events transpired in a manner that was not noble enough to convince Dantalion of my innocence. Then again I cannot even convince myself. As it turns out, I was the fool at that party.

I better stop reminiscing. Why Lix why now? It's not that I was hiding from him or that he does not have the means to find me if he wanted to. Is he just getting lonely being the only one who came out clean after the whole mess of war? Feeling a bit feverish, must be coming down with something. Better close the window there's a draft in here and that won't do me any good.

---

Now I know what they mean with "I'm freezing my bollocks out here". Need to plan this walk of mine. First stop at the corner shop "New Delhi". Looking around in the shop for 5 minutes just to get my bones warm. A flock of students barge through the door. Half of them are drunk, the rest stoned, maybe even both. The short, body-building-druid stares right at me.

[druid] Hey, you. Yeah, you. What are you staring at?
Nothing, just looking for some chocolate that's all.
[druid] Bullshit, you are staring at me. Want a piece of me fuckhead? Ha!
Would never dream of it, man. Sorry.
[druid] Yeah, you walk away fuckhead.

Closed the door and went along my path. Jumpy little shit, but I can barely keep my breath steady with this virus of mine and I've got this party to go to. Next stop the liquor store just before the bridge. Better make this a long one, it will be windy across the bridge. Stole a small bottle of bourbon, that should keep me warm. Half way across and we are out of bourbon, ah this petty shell of skin is useless. Crossed the bridge, a coffee house and a liquor store. I am feeling a bit Irish.

Finished the large plastic cup, feeling a little better. Now I am smack in the middle of college town. Hate this place. Know-it-all boys and girls on a Friday night out for a good time. They are all the same, same clothes, same attitudes, same cliche chicken-out-of-an-egg-but-things-he-is-the-master-of-the-world philosophy. The only reason I really hate them is because I am just another pile of flesh like them. Wouldn't mind being their guardian back home; fuck around with their heads make a little chicken soup, hahahaha.

Next turn, the first church. Building is old, but well maintained, after all it's the parents hard earned money that pay for the tuition and the maintenance of these buildings. This is the best degree money can buy, right! Pissheads. The first building the settlers made, of course, was a church; a replica of what they left behind. Pathetic really. They build and worship the one idea that leaves them broken down and paralyzed against everything that He wanted for them. Need to find the entrance.

Two men in black and little plastic headphones in one ear, stop me.

[doorman] Where are you off to old timer?
Gentlemen, I have a meeting in this very building and my friends are not the kind of people who like waiting.
[doorman] Old man, you smell of whiskey and you look like you crawled out of a morgue. This is a university building and tonight it's the welcoming party for new students. No invitation no entry.
Feast of Fools, how fitting.
[doorman] What was that old man?
Nothing, don't mind me I tend to think out loud. So I guess I have to show you some ID then.
[doorman] Oh you are a reported. Jesus Christ man, say so. They told us one of you guys would cover the event and I had my eye out for ya. But you didn't look the part mate.
Yeah, caught myself a cold. Thought a little whiskey would do the trick. Know what I mean.
[doorman] That I do, that I do. No alcohol inside though mate, sorry.
No worries mate, it's all gone.
[doorman] Welcome to the party, second floor, in the auditorium.
Thanks


That wasn't that hard. There is probably another pair of apes on the second floor and they are expecting me.

Hallo lads, I'm the reporter covering the event. Thank you.

Second time's a charm. Fuck, it's like kindergarten in here and no alcohol. Shit. It's 15 minutes past 12 need to get out of here. Ah yes, the toilets need to get some of that coffee out anyway.

[kid] Awesome party, eh?
Yeah, having fun?
[kid] You bet, college is like, cool. Everyone here is like me. And the chicks are like, awesome. Cool.

If he says like and cool one more time I'm going to shove his own pecker in his mouth and use his balls as decoration for his earrings.

College, you can't beat the experience.
[kid] Yeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, woooohooooow.

Of course, how else would he have made an exit; a testosterone filled pointless scream of absolutely nothing of essence or value. Ok, there's the window and it leads to the fire exit. A bit of exercise will do me good. Shit it's freezing outside. The higher I climb the stronger the wind, my bones are starting to complain. Finally top floor. Looks deserted. Two chairs and an old, burned out candle.

What now Lix?

Why did I even say that out loud. Throat is pretty dry and itching, like someone is scratching it with his nails from the inside. Started coughing, harder, harder. Cover my mouth with my hand, blood. Shit, not pneumonia, not now. Coughing is getting harder, deeper, I can feel my stomach convoluting, I think I am going to throw up.

[Lix] Hallo Cimeries
Never thought I would see you coming out of vomit, let alone my vomit Lix. My name is not Cimeries.
[Lix] Hm, that is interesting. I've seen the insides of your, lets call it body for now, and you are right, you are not Cimeries. But then you got the note and you came here.
I'm in no mood for games Lix. In fact, the only mood I am in is the one where my hand crashes your skull against the wall.
[Lix] Easy there Cimi.

I jump up and grab him by the throat.

I told you, you spineless traitorous pile of nothing, I AM NOT CIMERIES.
[Lix] Chill man, ok. Don't kill the messenger.
You are still playing games with me. The worst I could do is to irritate you. What do you want.
[Lix] Is your cold better.
Once you got out, yes. What do you WANT?
[Lix] Listen I have no time to explain the series of events that led to this meeting. Things are not as you might imagine them.
If I have to listen to one more cliche out of your mouth I think I am going to be sick again. And this time something else might show up.
[Lix] I have a favor to ask. In fact, Dantalion has a favor to ask.
Can't get his woman's legs to the "closed for business" position and now he is asking for help?
[Lix] Now now, things have changed, I told you.
Keep talking fart face.
[Lix] Don't tempt me Cimi. There is a kid we want you to take care of.

He smiles as he pours wine into two glasses

Me, carry a killing in the name of Dantalion. Shit, you are a bigger idiot than I thought. Have you become as light headed as the wind you master?
[Lix] Don't play with ME.

The candle is lit. Fire, from the master of wind?

Who is here with us Lix? Stop breathing heavily and imagining how you would kill me. It appears I'm too valuable to be wasted on your wrath just cause I ticked you off.
[Dantalion] Lix, leave us.
Oh my old friend Dante. Here to finish off what you started?
[Dantalion] Cimi you were a strong warrior and a fair Marquis, I know you still got the brains, don't try to trick me.
For the second time tonight, what the fuck do you want? Have all demons become gutless gits?
[Dantalion] Silence. I will not tolerate your mouth again.

The room goes dark, even the candle's flame weakens. He is taking up all the room and all the air around us. I am chocking, I am dying.

[Dantalion] Now that I have your attention. Cimeries, you have still a soldier's heart and the mastery of war tactics. The task requires a human with both of these virtuous. You will kill the daughter of Jenavive and Gregory Staughton.

He drops me to the ground. The first breath fills my lungs with dust. He circles around me.

So, what is in this for me, your ever lasting gratitude?
[Dantalion] Cimeries, you are an arrogant prick. Your life.
You must really think that all this time with this monkeys has made me retarded. My life! Let me guess you are threatening me with death, you will send me to Hell? Is that it? Hahahhahahaha
[Dantalion] You can't blame me for trying. The moment was fitting. Haha, Cimeries I offer you passage to Hell, a get-in card. Under my protection.
As a demon?
[Dantalion] No, I am not the ruler of Hell, yet. With the proper arrangements you will be able to visit and stay as long as you like, as my guest.
A position to make such an offer. Who did 'Asthtart sleep with this time to get your sorry arse crowned as ruler and commander?
[Dantalion] Ashtart is of the past. My friend we are here to talk about the future.
No longer pussywhipped, I see. Well, a rather enticing offer to nothing but a mere human.
[Dantalion] Your answer Cemeries ...
Could you spare a cigy?
[Dantalion] Still smoke I see, same brand?
Yes, thanks.


The smoke fills my lungs, buys me some time. Actually, gives me time to test Dante, he is poking around in my head. It has been a long time since I played the game with a demon, let alone Dante. Need to corner him fast, or at least, buy some time to think about this. If memory serves me right, these kind of offers come in pairs.




Dante old boy, give us the night to consider. You will have my answer by tomorrow noon, warriors honor.
[Dantalion] Cemeries you are trying my patience.

One more drag from the cigarette, a long one.

If a 12 hours delay is too much of a disposition I am sure there are plenty of your followers who would jump at the opportunity to mark the future of your kingdom. After all not everyone is doing this for their soul.
[Dantalion] You have 12 hours.
You are most kind, old friend.
[Dantalion] Sleep well.

Cold again, the candle's off and the room has that same aura of a deserted attic. That was a rather peculiar party. Sleep well, he says. Bastard. He is toying with me, once again I have to face the sound of the war drums while Dante gets to sit up high in his throne. Last time I could have gone against him and I could have won. Need to think straight. Need a drink.

On my way out one of the black-dressed ape-guardians tries to start a conversation. Fame you see does that to apes. His black coat hangs from his broad shoulders with the inside pocket swinging freely as he moves his hands back and forth. War stories you see, or should I say, door stories, dull, pointless and exaggerated to the point were I want to laugh in his face. Fat wallet. Monkey was too concentrated on his banana to notice me taking his wallet. On the first occurance of a small pause I act and bring the converstaion to an end. Went accross the street, bought me a packet of Luckies

It's time for a trip to O'Malley's