New York City, 2038

IT BEGINS

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Screams, cries for help, shouts of anger and hatred. While not completely out of the norm, they were in full force tonight as riots raged on in the streets. Peaceful protests were a thing of the past since the state had officially banned the practice some years ago. Men covered in thick jackets, hoping it would help to protect them, masks to cover their faces, and armed with whatever they could use as weapons flooded the streets as they rushed towards a wall of military policemen. Those who represented law, who were still responsible for keeping the peace, were now little more than bullies. Covered in what was essentially armor and helmets to cover their faces, armed with fully automatic weapons and large shields made of bullet proof plastic, the police had become more of a city guard out of medieval times, sent out by the noblemen to keep the peasants in line. The cries of innocent bystanders were barely audible over the yells of the rioters and the orders of the police. Most of the sounds that still filled the area were that of bottles of alcohol, set a light just before being hurled at the shields of the police. Occasionally, as rioters got within range, a spray of bullets would silence all other noises as veritable machine guns were unleashed on the public to quail the chaos. This always led to more screams, more crying, and more yelling, followed by the cracking of more bottle bombs and then more bullets. The ceaseless cycle created a fairly common scene in this city, what most people just simply called the “Midnight Mass”. An unfortunately play on the word for a Catholic practice, now used to reference a nightly massacre.

However tragic for all the people down below, it provided the perfect noise to mask the plans of an ambitious demon just over head, towards the top of a large building which, while abandoned, had been used frequently by those without homes. Of course, the people who had chosen to use this place as their shelter for tonight had become the fuel for a spell the demon had been cooking up for a while. In the faint light cast from below, combined with the moon and stars above, the demon carefully drew various symbols along the floor, taking a moment every few minutes to glance over at his captive to make sure he hadn’t gone anywhere.

"So what do you think Luci’s gonna do when he finds out about this? Thought he said I was untouchable,” Gabriel asked, his hand firmly pressed to his abdomen to try and stave off the bleeding caused by the hell forged weapon the demon wielded. The demon was a Knight, though he didn’t recognize him, and had managed to overpower the wingless archangel. Gabe’s shirt, once a plaid mixture of red, blue, and orange, was now stained almost entirely red and his once blue jeans were no different. His face was contorted with pain as he struggled to stay awake.

“Unkillable. Yes. Untouchable…” said the demon as he finally rose to his feet after hours of drawing in human blood, the sources of the paint still littering the floor nearby, “not so much. Besides, once I use your blood to send out a beacon, drawing some more angels here, then kill them to take their wings, and hand those wings over to Lucifer, I bet he’ll be willing to overlook this little bending of the rules. I’ll get some brownie points with the boss and he’ll get more trophies. Everybody wins.” With that, the demon bent down again, took a Dixie cup from the floor, and then walked over to Gabriel.

Gabriel chuckled slightly before the pain of moving his ab muscles interrupted him. “I don’t know if you’ve heard,” Gabriel began as he leaned his head up against a steel beam behind him, watching the demon as he moved closer to him, “but we aren’t exactly a close-knit bunch anymore.”

This, in turn, made the demon laugh back as he finally reached Gabriel and knelt down in front of him with the cup still in hand. “Oh I know. As big-a-game as you self-righteous assholes preached for so many years, you’ve become little better than the humans you all loved so much,” and with that, the demon swiped the archangel’s hand away and pressed the cup forward, into Gabriel’s stomach. Gabriel couldn’t help but grunt and hiss as his blood began to ooze out a little quicker, slowly starting to fill the cup. “Still,” continued the demon as he gazed into the blood, “Someone like you. One of the first of us. I think you underestimate how much weight your name still carries. And I think, given the right motivation, I can bring a few little feathery dicks out of hiding.”

After what felt like forever to Gabriel, the demon finally pulled the cup away and stood back up. Gabriel immediately pressed his hand back onto his stomach, still struggling to keep his eyes open as he gave the fallen angel the angriest face he could muster. The demon just smiled and snickered at him as he turned around and walked over to the where he’d drawn the symbols in human blood. Watching the demon, Gabriel finally started to get a look at him as the moon was uncovered by the clouds and the bottle bombs of the rioters below began to create more light. He was tall, about 6 feet and had a lithe body that to a human would probably appear as no older than 25 years. He was dressed in a nice, dark overcoat, and what appeared to be dark colored jeans to match. As the demon finally and carefully made it to the center of the circle of symbols, he set the cup down on the ground in the dead center. Once it was there, the demon turned around to look back at Gabriel and then walked out of the circle. The demon gave the archangel one last smile that seemed more reminiscent of an excited, sadistic child than that of a conniving, demonic mastermind. Then, the demon turned around and held out his right hand towards the circle and began to speak as he focused his gaze on the cup. All Gabriel could do was sit there, in pain and fear of what was to come. Fear of how many more of his already few, remaining brothers were going to die tonight.

“Vee-nu kah-nee-lah ah kah-nee-lah,” chanted the demon straining to keep a smile at bae as his plan was finally coming to fruition. The chant was in their tongue and basically meant, “I invoke blood with blood.” Simple, but all it really took to trigger a summoning spell. As the last syllables escaped his lips, the demon turned to look at Gabriel and with a smile whispered a message that would travel to anyone who’d heard the summon, “Help.”

“You son of a bitch!” Gabriel yelled, wishing he could do something to him. But the demon just laughed and pulled free his hell forged blade from his side, a gnarled, warped, black blade forged in Hell and even warm to the touch despite being out of the pit which he’d used to cut down Gabriel. Once out, the demon pulled a small black stone from his pocket, a whetstone, and began to sharpen it. Gabriel’s demeanor changed as he stared at the blade and just sighed in defeat, knowing all he could do was wait and watch. Gabriel’s only hope was that perhaps, enough angels would show up that a single Knight wouldn’t be a match for them. Hell, demons who had turned against Lucifer would even be a welcomed sight, at this point. But as that thought crossed his mind, Gabriel couldn’t help but feel unsettled, as if something nearby just wasn’t “right”. As he tried to focus and perhaps discern what the source was, his question was answered when a growl from what sounded like a slimy throat gurgled into his ear and he turned to see one of the Scourge.

Its skin was pale, blotchy, and thin as if peeled down to just above the muscles. Its body was lithe and resembled that of a starved war prisoner, given only enough to keep it alive. Its eyes slowly leaked blood, giving them a constant red tint as if the creature was always so stressed, so angry, that the vessels in its eyes were always bursting to keep its head from exploding. This one was about seven feet tall and its shoulder came up to about Gabriel head as it stood on all fours, more comfortable for the creature but appearing ever more unnatural given its obvious human shape. Its mouth, always a gape, let out hot breaths against Gabriel’s face as it remained motionless. The creature’s bloody eyes staring into Gabriel’s as if contemplating whether to kill him or not, barely covered in burnt and tattered clothing.

Suddenly, Gabriel flinched at the loud voice of the demon who said, “Get the fuck out of here! Don’t touch that one you freak.” The creature seemed to jump as much as Gabriel did when it was scolded by the demon and quickly leaped straight into the air, grasping the beams above and moving further up into the darkness of the upper floors. “Damn things. But, if you want a distraction, there isn’t anything better, eh?” said the demon as he went back to sharpening his blade as the sounds of bare feet and hands slapping against glass and steel clamored along the side of the building. As he heard this, Gabriel couldn’t help but look over his shoulder to see a horde of the Scourge as they easily scaled the walls, moving up above to wait for their prey to arrive. All Gabriel could do was let out a sigh of anguish and lower his head. The demon was many things, but he wasn’t dumb and he wasn’t ill prepared.

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Screams echoed beyond the metal doors of 'The Seventh Sanctum'. The small bar was quiet inside, low-lit without many patrons this blissful night. A sullen barman cleaned glasses in solitude, one patron sat at the bar sipping on scotch. The only sounds reaching them were the cries and screams of the rioters outside. A peaceful sound for the few demons that sat within the building. A pair of humans tucked away in the back, shaking, afraid of what was outside. If only they knew the truth of the people they surrounded themselves with. The demons that were mere inches away from them.

Esmra stood upstairs in her private quarters, brushing her blonde hair she combed out some dried human blood that she had missed during her shower. Looking in a long mirror which was cracked in the right corner she pouted her lips checking her makeup. With a fleeting satisfied smile, she turned towards the double bed that lay at the center of the room. "Too bad you didn't survive longer. You were fun - for a while" she mused at the dead human man who lay there. Blood had spilled out of his ripped throat soaking the white linen bed sheets. Naked, he was torn all over, his skin bruised, the smell of death beginning to fill her nose.

Esmra stood and waltzed over to the dead man, bending down she kissed his bloodied forehead. "You shouldn't trust so easily" she said before straightening, wiping the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand. Adjusting the black jacket she wore Esmra opened the door to her apartment and began her descent downstairs to The Seventh Sanctum. This was hers, her sanctum, her place to live her life in her ideal of peace.

Upon opening the back doors the screams from the street filtered their way towards her. Esmra smiled upon hearing them, turning her attention to the barman. "John, tell me darling" she leant her elbows on the bar's surface. "what's new today?" she asked her loyal follower.

John was a quiet man. He spoke very rarely and only to Esmra. He was a Fiend demon. Placing down the glass he had been cleaning he immediately began to prepare Esmra's usual cocktail. Placing the Martini before her he leant his hands on the bar. "Scourge. Many of them. Seen climbing the building to the East.

"ugh disgusting things" Esmra picked up the Martini. "Why would they be gathering?" she sipped at it.

"Demon. Knight. Summon them. - Why I do not know."

Esmra's hand paused on the Martini as John mentioned another Demon Knight. It had been some time since she had crossed paths with another Knight like herself. Her curiosity peaked. Picking up the Martini she downed the drink in one go before lifting herself from the bar. "I do believe, we have a party to crash" she smirked "Have Lila clean up my room would you. It's a mess. Then grab your things. " She gave him her orders.

John nodded firmly moving into action. He wasted no time in arranging for Lila, another Fiend demon to clear up the body that lay on Esmra's bed. He then set up his replacement at the bar before walking towards the front doors. Holding them open for Esmra he held out her demon blade. Esmra took hold of her demon knights weapon, unlike many knights whom's weapons were swords, Esmra's weapon was a Scythe. Its hilt was as black as coal, the blade stained red with the blood of its victims. John followed her as they entered the streets. The riots were in full chaos. A bomb flew by Esmra exploding nearby.

"Calming, isn't it?" She spoke to John as they walked through the nights Midnight Massacre.
"Quite" John replied grabbing a human by the head as the woman ran at them with a bottle bomb in her hand. With one shove he threw the woman aside the bomb exploding still in her hand.

Soon they reached the building John had spoken of, hundreds of Scourge were scaling the buildings glass windows. They moved as one blending into a mass of bodies ravaging for blood.

"Well- someone's having quite a celebration" Esmra observed what lay before them. "Let us not waste time, we don't want to miss the fun" She said moving forward towards the building. John Nodded in agreement. Elegantly she pushed on two large glass doors. They flung open breaking from the hinges smashing the glass. Shards fell around them as Esmra and John began to traverse into the building.

Pausing for a moment on the bottom floor Esmra looked above her, she could feel blood, smell it even. Suddenly she sensed the Scourge. A few of them crawled through the doors she had smashed open climbed along the walls towards them.
"John, be a dear would you?" she asked him ignoring their presence.
"My pleasure ma'am" John cracked his knuckles turning around. With a start, he ran towards them. The scourge jumped at him in return pushing off from the walls. John grabbed the nearest one by the neck twisting its head under his arm in one swift motion breaking its neck.

"Vile Things" Esmra sighed heading towards the stairs. She was a Demon Knight, the scourge would obey her if she wished them too. However, she saw them as disgusting vile demons, their blood was mixed with human souls. She despised humans. Thus, the Scourge were vile. She had no qualms killing them.

Her scythe in hand Esmra scaled the stairs with ease, using her super agility she reached the floor she had smelt blood on in no time at all. Her boots echoed on the hall as she walked towards the smell. She could hear the scourge scuttling in the rafters above her. Approaching the smell Esmra moved her scythe to rest in the crook of her arm as she clasped her hands together forming a slow clap. The motion also echoed throughout the hallways as two figures came into view.

Various symbols had been drawn in human blood along the floor, A demon Knight like her was sharpening his demon blade. To the Knights left sat a blood ridden man, his plaid shirt, and jeans soaked in the blood that oozed out of his stomach wound. Esmra did not recognise the Demon Knight, but she knew the face of the bleeding man. Any Demon would.


My, My I am impressed She continued to clap until stepping into the dim light so her own features came into view. "Summoning all of these Scourge, obtaining the blood of the first to attract more angels, you have formed quite an event haven't you" she moved her scythe back into her hand. "However, I could have sworn we were obligated not to kill Gabriel, and well-" she stepped over to the Gabriel who lay on the floor clutching his stomach. Bending down she looked at him inspecting his wounds. Meeting his eyes she smiled for a moment. "Well he's not exactly in good shape is he. Care to explain Mr..?" she asked fishing for a name.

She had not expected to meet Gabriel here. Not in the slightest. It was a surprise, to say the least. As were, the writings this Knight had drawn in blood. She knew of them, a summoning spell. Whatever this Knight was planning, it was definitely more bloodshed. She was interested to see where this plan would lead too. This demon had definitely come prepared with all of the vile Scourge. A fight was imminent.