Thursday, October 25, 2012

Dead Rite chapter 130.03


Harold frowned, trying to imagine Jasfoup possessed by a legionnaire. As far as he was aware, demons didn't have souls to be replaced. “How can a demon possess another demon?”

“Oh, we wouldn't possess him, Mr Waterman. We'd dispose of him. There's nothing worse than a demon who won't align with a cause.”

Harold laughed. “He's certainly a rebel.” He bent to brush some dust off his trousers, trying to ignore the dirt and mud adhering to them from their journey through the caves. He looked towards the recumbent Gillian. “You wouldn't happen to have a clothes brush about your person?”

“I'm a little busy at the moment, Harold.”

“I hardly think the state of your clothes is a matter you should concern yourself with at the moment, Mr Waterman.” Manoarch held out his arms and a dozen or more demons slid out of his body and seemed to form vaguely humanoid shapes for his benefit.

If he concentrated with the sight, Harold could see the ruined remains of Manoach's origin form beneath the cover of the remaining legionnaires. He patted his pockets, wishing he'd thought to bring his sword and trying to remember a spell that might be useful in this situation. He had a vague recollection of of an elder banishment for the King in Yellow, but Manoach wore drab browns and greys. “Am I going to die?”

“Not really, Mr. Waterman, your soul will live forever as a slave to the will of the King of Hell.” He tilted his head. “Your body won't survive the process, mind.”

“What about Gillian?”

“We have no use for Azazel's get. Her soul is already absent. Rest assured we'll dispose of her carefully.”

“Then may I make a last request?” Harold did his best to look resigned to his fate. “Can we say goodbye to our daughter?”

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