Chapter 21

Mira, Mira on the wall….

Where Mira confronts Knight and she and Michael learn to trust one another.

She stood on the doorstep, cold all over. She pulled up her hand and knocked on the door.

It swung open. He was standing on the doorstep. ‘I knew that you would come.’

She walked in. She couldn’t look at the house, couldn’t note the details, she couldn’t even feel her heart anymore.

‘It was so smart to finally come back to me, well done my dear.’ He clamped a cold hand on her shoulder.

Cold.

‘Together we will overcome the General, we claim back Hell. A new vision is on the horizon.’

So cold.

‘The Controllers were fools, insisting it be done slowly, insisting that their part not be obvious, not be there for heaven and hell alike to see their treachery. But it does not matter, it does not matter anymore.’ He took her coat, sliding it offer her shoulders and throwing it to the floor. ‘You will not need this where you are going.’

Like a bitter fever, burning her body with the complete absence of heat.

‘Together we will start a new tomorrow today.’

She couldn’t hold on to her thoughts, her purpose, the cold just spun through her mind like a blizzard.

‘You finally found your light,’ he brushed his hand under her chin. ‘Without my help in the end. You just proved to be so stubborn.’

There was something she had to do… something she had to do on her own…

‘You resisted my curse, I do not know why. But it does not matter now, you have your light and I have my means.’

Something she could only do on her own… something she left everything behind to do… something.

‘The Agency were easy to persuade, they have truly modernised.’ He picked up her hand and began to lead her across the hall, ‘But this is all water under the bridge. We must now concentrate on what is before us. Our destiny my dear.’

Destiny…

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Walking into the belly of the beast. Well, not so much walking, fighting would be more accurate. And by belly of the beast, he meant castle of the beast. But the general sentiment rang true.

Don’t give up Mira.

He run in front, slashing wildly at the demons that literally came out of the woodwork. Behind him, several paces out of reach of Michael’s sword ran Phillips, dragging Angel along in one hand, squeezing off blasts of a holy gun in the other.

You still have us. Don’t give up Mira.

Another demon, grey like a storm cloud, flooded through the floor, rushing up between them, growling like a tiger.

Angel wielded the staff she’d borrowed from his father. Carved into the old Cyprus wood was a Yiddish prayer. His father was terribly fond of that staff.

With a loud crack Angel drove it right into the chin of the demon. The thing doubled over in pain and Angel followed up by thwacking it hard across the back. With a rumbling sigh it melted back through the floor.

He shared a brief, impressed look with Phillips and then turned to slash through another demon as it leapt from the door way.

They’d managed to get through the parking lot and the garden in good time. Knight had mined the whole area with every beast of Hell he could sway. But together, with his sword, Phillips’ keen aim and Angel’s frankly alarming with the staff, they were breaking through.

The front door lay open before them, inviting them from the frying pan and into the fire.

He leapt through it welcoming the challenge.

It was like any castle from a horror film. So he’d walked through it with his team when they’d fought Knight almost a week ago, well this was different now.

High ceilings, dark rafters, a huge winding staircase – everything tinged with a solid, palpable dark. The chandelier above hung down like a ring of swords threatening to loose and slash towards them.

Each step over the smooth floorboards brought with it a creak, as if the house were groaning. The windows let in a filtered, dull light that cut across the cold shadow of the room.

At the same time it was a huge, overpowering space, but also a tiny, cramped, dark hole. He could even smell the wet dirt on the air.

Phillips and Angel filed in behind him, straining to take the whole room in at once. There was no doubt that this was the house of an aspiring General of Hell.

Knight. All that was left was for him to sit at his organ and strike out an eerie, powerful tune. ‘Knight.’ He spoke to the house as a whole, commanding it offer forth its master. ‘Knight.’

Along the walls were hung pictures, he’d missed them when he’d come for the party, how could he have missed them. They were a lineage, a painted family tree. Knight’s own raison d’ ete.

Such gravitas, such obvious, stifling threat. But Michael wasn’t afraid of architecture. It the least Knight could achieve was scary interior decorating – then he’d be in for a surprise.

Michael regriped his sword. ‘Get down here Knight. Get down here.’

Angel slammed her staff onto the ground, the hollow sound calling through the house. She repeated the move like a dull, but polite, knock.

Knock, knock, knock.

There, under the stairs, two huge ornate doors swung open. He had not seen the doors before, nor noticed them when he’d walked in. It was as if they’d appeared in an instant, but had been there forever.

He shared one look with Phillips and Angel and headed towards them.

They led down a short set of stairs, through a darkened coridoor, a lighter, wider space just visible at the end.

With every step he could feel the evil literally crawl down his back.

There was a noise coming from the room at the end of the tunnel, like the beat of a heart, soft and dull, repetitive and meditative.

‘Knight,’ he called out as he climbed the last set of stairs leading up and entered a wide circular room.

Around him, painted on the singular round wall, were symbols. Dark red like freshly drawn blood, scrawled as if they were painted by the hand of a child. An incantation, a spell.

‘You coward, don’t hid behind your walls. Come out and face us like a true General.’

The walls laughed, a manic high pitched twitter. If it had been a different situation Michael might have joined in. There was something so manic, so 1950’s bad guy about that laugh. It belonged to a mad scientist, not the possessed throat of a gun runner.

The laugh drew on, getting only more energised, more crazed.

With a harrumph, Angel walked over to the wall and brought her staff thwacking across it.

Phillips let out a chuckle and Michael smiled to himself.

‘Shut up you idiot,’ Angel hit the wall again, ‘you sound like a lunatic.’

The laugh cut out with a sudden crackle. Instead the walls began to glow, the scrawl glittering like burning rubies.

Michael redoubled his grip for the last time, steeling himself for the future.

Knight formed from the scrawl, all around them, whirling down from a diffuse cloud to the figure of a man, standing before them, hands in the pockets of his expensive suit. ‘Greetings.’ His mouth moved out of time with his words, like the worst lip sync of a dubbed video.

Michael let his eyes dart to Phillips. Phillip replied for them both by firing several rounds into Knight’s chest.

They struck home, causing him to buckle forward from the force, but he soon righted himself. The bullets hissed and disappeared into smoke. The splatter of blood that had stained his suit trickled back into the wound, the fabric sealing over it. ‘What a warm welcome you have offered me. Thankyou.’

‘Where the Hell is she?’ Michael could feel his anger channelling into the sword, it’s light burning a brighter, hotter blue.

‘Oh she’s not there just yet. You’ve interrupted us just before the main event see. But no trouble, you will be the first test. Take it from me,’ Knight spread his hand and gently patted his chest, ‘customers are more willing to buy if you’re weaponry had been tested in a real war.’

This was it.

‘Oh are you pale Michael? Do you not know what will happen next? Are you uncertain, are you afraid?’ Knight’s face was crumpling with vicious pleasure, ‘good, you should be.’

Knight clicked his fingers, just like circus master cracking his whip, calling forth the first act. And just like an act Knight stood aside.

She was behind him, back turned away from there.

She’d been there all along, or she’d just appeared, or it wasn’t her, or it was just an illusion-

She turned slowly, as if in still frame, her back not moving, only her neck. He saw the side of her face, caught the dead look in her eyes.

Knight chuckled and stepped aside. Raising his hands and clapping in anticipation of a good show. ‘You’ll like the new Mira she’s… luminescent.’

Just hold on.

She turned around fully, never taking her eyes off him, never blinking, never breathing.

You can do it, hold on.

‘Mira, Mira, on the wall, who’s the most powerful of them all,’ Knight pointed at his chest and tapped it twice. ‘Me. Enjoy my latest weapon of mass destruction children – you’ll find it quite captivating.’

She was dressed in black and it stood stark against the glow of her skin. In one hand she held a sword, and it glowed red like molten lava. The other hand hung loosely at her side, not clenched, not pulled into a fist, just loose and free.

He raised his own sword and prayed, leaning the hilt against his shoulder, readying for the swing. ‘Mira.’

She didn’t answer his call, but answered his challenge. She rose her own sword over one shoulder, never taking those dead eyes from him.

Phillips and Angel backed off, even Knight walked over to the side of the room, leaning against the wall like a cowboy taking a smoke.

‘Mira.’ He took one step backwards, bracing his legs, giving power to his shoulder, giving power to his swing.

She still didn’t answer, just took her own step forward, stretching the sword forward at arms length.

‘Mira?’

‘Here,’ Knight chuckled, the face of Dan Carter taking on the most manic of grins, ‘ let me. Mira.’

She stepped forward, bringing the sword before her, swiping towards him.

He met her blade, the power of her swing punching the breath from his lungs. ‘Mira.’

He had to keep on trying.

Michael dropped to his knees and rolled, just as Mira leapt forward and sunk her blade into the ground.

‘Mira.’ He brought his blade around and blocked another powerful slash. ‘Mira.’

‘Mira, Mira, Mira, Mira.’ Knight mimicked, bopping his head from side to side like a brother teasing their small sister, ‘I just don’t think she’s going to answer you. Give it up Michael.’

She twisted the blade in her hand, changing the angle of her grip and dove forward with a stab. He tried to pitch out of the way, but her sword caught his side, slicing through the skin above his hip. His blood sizzled as the blade burnt through his flesh.

He didn’t cry out in pain, just pulled himself up and blocked her next blow.

Phillips made some kind of noise between a gasp and a threatening growl. Knight just cackled louder, even clapping like a child at the circus.

She swiped again, her blade slashing against his, drawing electric purple sparks that singed the air.

He blocked out the pain, blocked out the metallic taste of shock in his mouth, just dropped to his knees and rolled out of the way of another blow.

‘Mira.’ He had to keep trying, he had to get through to her, he had to believe that she was still there and capable of coming back. ‘Mira.’

‘Oh this is so beautiful, you won’t even fight her Michael – are you that scared of loosing?’

She paused for a moment then came at him, twisting the sword from side to side in a blinding, impossible volley. He was driven back, almost to his knees, body racing, beating, trying to catch up, trying to block each blow.

‘Are you so afraid of even trying? Because this is so droll, you can’t test a weapon of war against an untrained peasant. Fight her.’

‘Mira.’ Her blows were coming quicker, harder, far above anything he had ever fought, far, far above his own skill.

The lethargy was stabbing at his muscles, trying to unpick them, his adrenaline waning like the moon. ‘Mira.’ He had to pushed past, he had to believe in her. ‘Mira!’

‘Just give up Michael! For the love of your god, can’t you see that you have lost!’

Don’t give up. He could see it in their eyes, Angel and Phillips stared at him, willed him to go on. Don’t give up.

‘Mira! Please!’

‘Yes Mira, time to finish him off.’

Her blade slashed out in an arc from his hip, collecting his own, but he could not hold it and his sword spun from his hand. In a moment she was around him, behind him, lacing her arm around his middle, jutting the sword across his throat.

Knight almost broke down with laughter, slamming his hands against the wall ‘Oh finally, finally. You’ll be a hit in Hell my dear.’

He couldn’t move, she had him like a vice. She leant up, pressing into his back as she rested her chin on his shoulder, angling her head towards his ear.

He could feel her breath on his neck…

‘Michael.’

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She let go of him, the last of the cold seeping from her limbs. She could feel him drop, sense the fatigue in his body.

She turned to Knight. He squirmed against the wall. ‘What are you doing?’ he cried, ‘pick him up and finish it!’ Knight’s mouth moved wide like a lion roaring.

‘No.’

Knight slammed one fist into the wall. ‘Mira!’

‘Yes.’ She pulled the sword back. ‘Dan Carter.’ Before he could move, before he could draw up his hands, before he could shout, before he could think, she’d stabbed him through the middle.

Knight died. Every last skerrick of his possession burnt against her blade, it was all consumed by her light.

The body of Dan Carter shook, steam rising from him, tendrils of black blood escaping his pores and drifting up above his body as if with reversed gravity. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he slumped backwards against the wall.

Mira let the blade clatter to the ground, its light dimming like the flicker of a cigarette.

She turned to him. Michael.

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‘Criminal. I know what to do with a criminal.’ Inspector Phillips strutted around the room like a peacock in full bloom. ‘I can deal with a criminal.’ He walked over to the leather chair and the slumped body of the man in it. ‘And you Dan Carter are definitely a criminal. A diverse criminal, I’ll give you that. but still a criminal.’

Dan Carter didn’t even look up, just mumbled something incomprehensible, his lips slow and trembling.

‘Leave the demons to them,’ Phillips waved a hand at Mira and Michael, ‘and the criminals to me. I bet INTERPOL would love to hear that you are coming in for questioning and long stint in prison.’

She gave a little giggle and turned back to dabbing at Michael’s wound.

‘Ow, that hurts.’ He had his arm stretch above him, his shirt pulled up to reveal the slash in his side.

‘Sorry,’ she tried to dab a little softer.

‘You should be, you stabbed me.’

He had a point here. She bit her lip and smiled shyly.

‘But I’m forgiving you owing to the fact you save the world. That and I think I might love you.’

‘Those are good reasons,’ she pulled down his shirt and guided his arm down. ‘I think you might need to go to the doctor for this one.’

‘Oh great,’ he was smiling, ‘another shirt ruined and a doctors bill. Knowing you is one expensive exercise.’ He pulled her close and kissed her head, ‘but I wouldn’t give it up for everything in Heaven and Hell.’

‘Oh you two are so cute together,’ Angel broke off from nodding along with Phillips’ threats to clap her hands together and grin. ‘I’m so happy for you.’

From anyone else that would have sounded fake, but with Angel you had to take it as the truth.

‘You know she’s a golem right?’ Michael left his arm around her but gestured towards Angel with a nod. ‘She’s taking part of your soul.’

‘Oh.’ Golem ha… well that did made a lot of sense. ‘Well that’s okay… she’s quite nice really.’

Angel stuck out her chin. ‘That’s right Michel, see.’ She half looked like she wanted to click her fingers and waggle a finger in his face.

‘You guys are weird.’ Mira rolled her eyes.

‘She started it,’ Michael didn’t shift his arm. ‘And by the way. We probably shouldn’t hang around any longer. It’s not going to escape the Agency’s attention too long.

As if on cue the drawing room door blasted open, three shapes stalking in. Both Michael and Phillips bristled.

Devisha strolled in at the lead, gun, as always, resting on his shoulder. He brought it down and held it stiff, pointed at the ground. ‘So.’

‘Boss,’ Fidnor crossed his arms and filed in beside Davisha.

‘Michael,’ Petra slinked in beside them and half stood, half posed.

‘Team.’ Michael stood slowly.

‘We’ve got us some orders,’ Devisha took a small step into the room, ‘and a bit of news too.’

‘I’ll take the news first, if I may.’ Michael was stiff with expectation, sharing a sideways glance with Phillips.’

‘You’re prerogative Boss,’ Devisha shrugged his shoulders, ‘There’s been a coup.’

‘Coup?’

‘Yeah that’s what you call it isn’t it? You know Boss, when you punch the Head Controller so hard he breaks his chair?’ Devisha shouldered his gun.

‘Yeah Boss, you know, when you send all the Units to round up every Controller and lock them in the brig.’ Findor gesticulated with his brick like hands.

‘Come on boss, you must know what we’re talking about. A coup, when you take out all of management and install temporary caretakers while you set up an inquiry.’ Devisha pulled out his trade mark toothpick and waved it in the air.

‘You are following us aren’t you Boss?’ Findor asked.

‘You haven’t become stupid have you Michael?’

Michael gave a short chuckle. ‘ no Petra, I’m stupid yet. And I’m receiving you loud and clear.’

‘Only see on top of all this coup stuff, we’ve got us a problem, we’ve found ourselves without a leader.’ Davisha stowed the toothpick in his mouth and talked around it.

‘Have you?’ whatever Michael was thinking, he didn’t let it show.

‘Yeah and see, we have this guy in mind, only he might not be too willing to come back – bad blood or something. Might not want to give the Agency another chance, which is unfortunate see, because it deserves another chance.’ Findor shook his head in mock sorrow.

‘That sounds like a problem,’ Michael shot Mira an unreadable look.

‘But that’s okay because we’ve got us a plan.’ Davisha slapped his hands together.

‘You have?’

‘Oh yeah, we’re going to spread it around that your girlfriend kicked you arse, that is, unless you come back.’

‘She did not kick my arse!’ Michael cleared his throat loudly, ‘I let myself lose.’

‘Of course... you did not! Rumours are like wildfire Boss – they burn. She totally kicked your arse.’ Davisha laughed loudly, twisting the toothpick around in his mouth.

Mira leaned in, trying to fight the smile that froze her lips. ‘I kinda did.’ She let the smile soften. ‘You should go back, they need you.’

He closed his eyes and nodded. ‘I know.’

Davisha clapped his hands together. ‘Well that’s settled then.’

‘Phillips?’ Michael stood up, patting his hands against his pants.

‘Yeah go ahead. You better agree to a new system though, a new transparent system. That and you better help me set up the new Order of Truth again.’

Michael offered his hand. Phillips shook it.

‘But what about me,’ Angel popped up from glaring at Dan Carter, ‘What am I supposed to do?’

‘Oh,’ Phillips laughed through his words, ‘you are going to become a police officer. The world needs you. We’ve got the same attitude towards truth kid, we love it. ’

She shared a laugh with Michael at the sudden look of righteous fire in Angel’s eyes.

‘Well I guess it’s over then,’ she pulled up her legs, hugging them tightly, suddenly feeling the slightest of chills.

Michael stared down at her, eyes twinkling, smile widening. ‘No, not really.’

He reached out a hand, she took it.

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The End