Planet Earth 1942 A.D.
Phoenix stood six feet four inches tall with a slender build and dark blue eyes. In the moonlight his large pupils appeared dark, as dark as his soul.
Having joined the British Special Forces at the beginning of the Second World War, he now stood in a smartly pressed German officer’s uniform, having infiltrated the ranks of the SS in 1941.
Phoenix knew of ‘The Book of Demons’ legend. He had also heard of Kathos, the Angel searching for the Demon. So he was amazed, while walking through the back streets of Berlin, when he caught sight of the evil book in a small shop.
The shopkeeper, who had killed to own it, amused himself by displaying the book in the window, knowing full well that people who passed by would never understand or know its content.
“It’s not possible!” Phoenix whispered. He could hardly catch his breath.
His heart raced with excitement. He had become a member of the brotherhood, and taken the satanic pact many years before. Splitting his palm open, Phoenix signed his name to the Devil’s pact, swearing to be a son of darkness. For all his life he would bear the scar and never be allowed to forget his promise to the Devil.
Phoenix walked through the door of the shop. His massive frame meant that he had to stoop to get in through the door.
“Good Evening, Sir, how can I help you today?” The shopkeeper said, standing nervously by his counter.
Phoenix approached him.
“I am interested in the book,” he said, turning and looking over at the glass display cabinet. The book sat on a high plinth. It had a strange cream leather bound cover with metal casing around the edges and a fancy metal lock that flipped over the cover that matched. The cover was decorated all over with gold engraving in a strange language. It said: ‘The Book of Demons’. Underneath that it read in bigger letter casing: ‘The Book of Belial.’ The detail was quite exquisite.
The shopkeeper walked slowly around to his chair behind the desk. He dropped and sat down, taking a closer look at the huge man standing in his shop. He was amazed at his colossal size.
Fear struck his face as Phoenix’s appearance began to change. His face became tinted with a metallic black colour. He had bulges across the top of his cheek bones, also across the line of his eyebrows and at the top of his nose. He then noticed a flash of white, a small glimmer that turned his attention to the customer’s teeth. Horror struck him as two sets of long white fangs protruded from his snarling mouth. The first set about two inches long, next to Phoenix’s front teeth. Then a second set right next to them, only these were looking at least double the size of the first.
Before the shopkeeper had time to give it another thought, Phoenix pulled a sword from the side of his overcoat. It gleamed as the lamp light from outside caught it, sharp and willing. With hardly a sound to be heard, except a soft swish as it directed its blow, hitting the shopkeeper in the middle of his head, going straight through like a knife slicing butter.
A small line of red appeared on the man’s head, and worked its way quickly through the middle of his face. One side slid, showing a perfect dissection as his body split in half where he was sitting. His intestines poured from his stomach, landing in a pile on the floor.
There was the sound of glass breaking as Phoenix picked the book up from its casing. He wrapped it in a blanket, and then without even looking back smiled, walking out into the night air.
He wiped the blood from his sword, replacing it back into its cover in his overcoat.
Looking around, the night was silent. No one had noticed the commotion in the shop. Phoenix walked through the alley to his car. He carefully placed the covered book in the boot; his devilish smile said it all. He had ‘The Book of Demons.’ He shook his head, closing the boot, got into his car and drove away.
Copyright Ruth Watson-Morris 2011/12/13