Demon Evolution (7 page)

When Gabriel reached the part about Clifford
being called
daemon
by the woman and being shunned by the
villagers, Taylor noticed a change in the tone of his voice. In his
previous story, he had made Clifford sound angry, as he described
the darkness that clouded his mind, the evil that crept into his
soul. But this time around, Gabriel described Clifford as
distraught; he wept for many hours. He had never felt so alone in
his life—he was a freak, hated by all, never to be accepted into
society again.

Clifford lay in the forest for days, under
the cover of the trees—not eating, not drinking, not sleeping.
Soaked with his own tears, he began to hate what he had become.
Eventually, a single beam of light navigated its way through the
dense web of branches and leaves, and found its way through
Clifford’s shroud of darkness to his face. Feeling the warmth on
his cheeks, he suddenly felt alive, invigorated, and most
importantly, full of hope.

He sprang to his feet and found a spot where
the sun shone brightly—a clearing. Soaking up the life-giving rays,
he began to practice with his new powers. Within days he had
mastered his power over fire, and soon after, his ability to
control the weather. Finally, he learned to temporarily cast off
the dark shroud that plagued him. Weeping with joy, Clifford began
planning his reentry into society.

Taylor was shocked to learn that the
remainder of the story was completely different than what he had
told her originally. The breadth of the lies that Gabriel had so
easily poured into her head was appalling. Her chest began to
tighten and her breathing became shallow.

She released the grip of her fingers, one by
one, until she could pull her hand free from his. She folded her
hands together, took a deep breath, and continued to listen.
Gabriel glanced at her, but then continued on with the story.

Gabriel told them how Clifford had, in fact,
repatriated into society. But not as an outlaw, as Gabriel had
tricked Taylor into believing, but as a deputy sheriff in a small
town. Clifford soon made his mark by displaying extraordinary feats
of bravery, as he quickly eradicated all crime from the town. The
sheriff offered to step down, to let Clifford take on his position,
but he declined, happy just to be a part of something good.

As his reputation grew, Clifford became the
most desirable bachelor in town, but many of the women that pursued
him seemed crass, and only wanted him for his fame. He waited
patiently, politely declining all invitations until one day when he
was watering his horse, a young woman rode up. As she dismounted
her steed, their eyes locked and Clifford’s heart swooned. She was
the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. With deep, brown
eyes and ash-blond hair, the warmth and depth of her character
pierced his heart, even before she had spoken one word to him.
Clifford knew this was the woman he would marry.

Soon he discovered that she was working her
way west, in search of a fresh start. Her husband and two children
had been killed by a murderous gang of outlaws. While Clifford
could not fully cure the sadness in her eyes, he vowed to always
protect her. Her name was Adele Montrose. Within weeks they had
married and she was pregnant with their first child together.

Clifford kept his secret from her until after
their child was born—a son. Immediately, Clifford knew that the boy
wasn’t fully human. A layer of darkness surrounded him like a
blanket. Pouring out his soul to Adele, he told her everything:
what he was, what he was capable of, and that their son was
probably the same. At the end of his tale, Clifford hung his head
in shame, waiting for her to run from him screaming, like the
native woman in the Amazon.

The next thing he felt was the warmth of a
kiss on his forehead, an arm around him, and a gentle voice. “If
you are a demon, then I hope my son is a demon, too,” she said.
Clifford’s heart filled with joy as his eyes met hers. He held her
tight for many hours that night.

Over the next thirty years, Clifford and
Adele bore many children. Each of them had Clifford’s curse—or
gift, as Adele called it. He taught them to use their powers, and
to use them for good. The family business was protecting innocent
people, and the Dempsey’s were good at what they did. Soon he was a
grandfather, and his family enjoyed many years of prosperity. But
it couldn’t last.

Four generations later in 1950, long after
Clifford and Adele had died, a demon child was born, Dionysus was
his name. He was brought up just like the other demon children,
taught to protect humans, to share the world with them. But for
some reason, it didn’t take. His thoughts were filled with grand
plans and dreams of power.

By the time Dionysus was eighteen he had
become destructive, committing heinous acts of crime against
humans. Some of his violence had spilled into the family. When
confronted by his father, he scoffed at him, telling him that he
was weak and small-minded. His father’s name was Clifford.

T
aylor’s head jolted
up. “What?” she said.

Gabriel didn’t answer. Instead, he waited for
her to process what he had just said. Taylor looked at Christopher,
at Kiren, at Sampson. No one objected to Gabriel’s statement. It
must be true. “The head of the demon Elders is Dionysus’s father,”
she said. It wasn’t a question. She understood.

Instinctively, she reached for Gabriel’s hand
and clutched it tightly. She felt the warmth of his touch trickle
up her arm and then, like a waterfall, pour through her entire
body. Her initial anger at realizing the extent of his lies gave
way to forgiveness, and she found herself crying, not tears of
fear, or of sadness, or of pain, but rather, tears of
understanding. Gabriel had grown up in an environment that was
engineered by a madman—a mad-angel—who sought to brainwash innocent
children into carrying out his sadistic plans.

Composing herself, Taylor wiped the tears
away with the back of her hand, her face flushing in embarrassment.
She hoped the light of the fire wasn’t sufficient to illuminate her
warm cheeks. She hated crying. She said, “You didn’t grow up
knowing the truth, right?”

Sampson spoke for the first time. “As kids,
we were taught the story that Gabriel told you the first time. That
demons were evil; that angels were the protectors of humans.
Dionysus was the first angel so he was able to make things up as he
went along.”

Taylor nodded. “Please continue,” she urged
Gabriel.

Looking hesitant, he put his arm around her
and spoke slowly. “The angel evolution occurred exactly as I told
you before. Dionysus forced the demon darkness off of him and
painstakingly pieced himself back together using the power of the
sun. The result was the creation of a new race, one that would
become an instant enemy to the demons. Naturally, he took on the
name of
angel
.”

But Gabriel didn’t stop there. With each
word, he looked like he was casting off a great burden, one that
had tormented him for some time. The truth really was setting him
free, and he wasn’t about to stop until he had spilled his
guts.

He laid out, in intricate detail, The Plan
that had been formulated by Dionysus and the Archangel Council. The
Plan was to destroy the demons—who were protecting the humans—and
then enslave humankind. Not to be used as pets or as labor, the
humans would be used by the angels to release the bounds of
mortality. By extracting the aura of a human, Gabriel explained,
and replacing it with an angel’s inner light, the angel could take
on the body of the human while still maintaining their angel
abilities. Thus, angels could live forever.

When Gabriel explained The Plan, Taylor,
Samantha, Sampson, Kiren, and even Christopher leaned in, hanging
on every word. None of them had been privy to the full extent of
the information. If the demon Elders were aware of The Plan, they
had kept it secret from the demon army. When Gabriel stopped
speaking, the room fell silent as each of them stared into the
fire, lost in their own thoughts.

As usual, Samantha broke the silence. “What a
bunch of sicko’s,” she said.

“I thought it was bad enough that the angels
were trying to destroy the human race,” Chris said, “but this is
far more evil.”

Sampson said, “When did you find out about
this, Gabriel?” His tone was accusing.

Knowing she was the only one who could stop
the verbal assault that was sure to come, Taylor said, “He found
out about it before he came to kidnap me. He made a major, serious,
worst-possible, disgusting mistake, but he has shown that he is
ready to atone for that mistake. He has proven that by coming here
today, by admitting to his lies, and he is about to vow to stop
Dionysus, no matter what it takes.” Taylor looked expectantly at
Gabriel.

He looked at her, confused for a moment, and
then realized what she was waiting for. “Oh, yes, of course. I vow
to help the demons in their quest to stop Dionysus,” he said
solemnly.

“No matter what it takes,” Taylor
reminded.

“No matter what it takes.”

Taylor looked into the eyes of each demon,
her best friend, and the remaining angel, and said, “If it’s good
enough for me—and it is—then it needs to be good enough for you.
Given that I have been hurt the most from all of this, my
forgiveness should be enough.”

They each nodded once, although Sampson
continued to glare at Gabriel.

A
t first the group
walked in silence, moving reverently back down the stairs and out
into the passageway, but before long Samantha had them all talking
and laughing again. She was telling them a story about her last New
Year’s Eve experience.

“My dad tried to set off fireworks in the
backyard. He had bought them illegally in Mexico—he thought he
would impress me and my mom by being a rebel—but when he lit the
fuse, it kept burning out. So finally, he tried to light the M-80
directly, where the fuse meets the firework, and something went
wrong and it didn’t light right. It began spinning and shooting off
sparks everywhere. My dad started dancing around like he was
walking on hot sand or something. That’s when his shorts caught on
fire. My mom ran over and pushed him to the ground and he rolled
around until the fire went out. Stop, drop, and roll really worked
for him. All that was left of his shorts were a few charred pieces
of tattered denim, and underneath he was wearing glow in the dark
Valentine’s Day boxer shorts that my mom had bought him a few years
earlier. It was one of the funniest, most disturbing things I have
ever seen.”

By the time she got to the “stop, drop and
roll” part, everyone was laughing loudly. Even Sampson’s anger
subsided, making way for his contagious smile.

“Well, I doubt we’ll witness anything that
funny this year,” Chris said, “but I can promise you it will be
entertaining. The Demon Spectacular has gotten bigger and bigger
each year. I’ve heard rumors that even the angels watch it from the
safety of their mountain.”

“It’s true,” Sampson confirmed. “You’re in
for a treat.”

“Excellent,” Taylor said. “I think we can all
use something to take our mind off of reality.”

They spent the rest of the day hanging out
and talking, but mostly they were laughing. Sampson was back to his
old self and was telling stories of the trouble that he and Gabriel
used to get into as kids. They played a few games of pool, relaxed
on the massive couches in the recreation room, and ate until they
could eat no more. It felt like they were back at college— before
everything had happened. For the next few days, at least, they all
hoped that life would be good again.

The calm wouldn’t last as long as they
hoped.

“
I can't remember anything

Can't tell if this is true or dream

Deep down inside I feel the scream

This terrible silence stops it there

Now that the war is through with me

I'm waking up, I cannot see

That there's not much left of me

Nothing is real but pain now

Hold my breath as I wish for death

Oh please God, help me”

Metallica- “One”

From the album
And Justice For All
(1989)

I
t was New Year’s
Eve. Gabriel and Taylor had spent the entire day together, alone
with just each other as company. Now that he had purged himself of
his lies, and Taylor had been able to forgive him, he felt clean
again. Pure, somehow. While their relationship felt deeper and more
meaningful, it had also gone full circle, back to a time when all
they needed was a sunny day and each other to be happy. It was an
easy kind of love. Carefree.

Chris had given them directions to a cliff on
the mountainside that would provide them with privacy and the
chance to get some fresh air. They eagerly took him up on the offer
and had spent the day sunning themselves—sometimes talking,
sometimes not. There was never an awkward silence; even silence was
comfortable, beautiful.