Saint Peter's Gate: Wave of Darkness

By Fran Comesanas

Darkness once again approaches Saint Peter’s Gate. This horrible threat has not been seen since the First War. Some believe that the creature is a manifestation of pure evil, and Whisper has dared to enter into an alliance with it. How the rogue general escaped his last brush with the Angel of Death, no one can say, but in his attempt to seize control of Saint Peter’s Gate Whisper may have doomed all of Heaven and Earth to eternal damnation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Aug 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781490796680

Fran Comesanas

Fran Comesanas is currently living and writing in Rhinebeck, NY. His hobbies include martial arts, soccer and of course, writing. The characters he writes about tend to have their own ideas about how their stories turn out. More often than not, his characters win out and exercise their right to perform in wonderful and terrifying ways.

Book preview

Prologue

Ember lay unconscious, unaware that the rogue stood mere inches away from the terrible chains that had ensnared her. She was dreaming, but her captor could only guess why the guardian suffered the occasional muscle spasm. The dream would have been sweet if she had still been a hunter demon. Now it was a nightmare, a terrorizing dream of what she might have become had she slipped into the ever-enticing world of darkness.

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She had no idea how long she’d been lying in the stairwell. In reality, it had been merely twenty minutes, twenty minutes of him trying to draw perfect circles with the tip of his tongue around the more sensitive parts of her anatomy. Just when she thought she could no longer draw breath, he would begin anew his maddening attempts at perfection, causing her to squirm and convulse.

Satisfied that she was numb with pleasure, he carried her up the remainder of the winding staircase. He lifted her easily, like an oversized rag doll whose clothes had been only half-removed without care. Once at the top of the stairs, he set her down and grasped her by the wrist, almost dragging her into the bedroom. It was almost too dark, too disconcerting to be in a stranger’s bedroom for the first time. She didn’t really know anything about him, did she?

A single candle burned atop a tall dark wood dresser. The flame danced as the air currents forced it to sway without rhythm, making their shadows contort against the opposite wall. In the center of the room, a four-poster bed loomed with at least half a dozen pillows. The silken bed covers looked blood red in the candlelight, but that wasn’t what had truly caught her attention. There appeared to be an enormous spiderweb stretched out across the two bedposts on the right side of the bed. This was where he was pulling her to now. She was nearly trembling with anticipation, not to mention the nervousness that accompanied a one-night stand.

He helped her onto a small step and then had her turn back to him, facing away from the bed. Her back was to the spiderweb, which appeared in the gloom to be made of black silk rope. He stepped closer to her and kissed her slowly, deeply, wanting to draw every ounce of passion from her mouth. She felt he was ready, but a trickle of uneasiness tried to jar her instincts awake. She began shaking, not understanding the warning.

A small click distracted her. She was fumbling with his trousers, the dim light forcing her to clumsily work on them, when he leaned forward and whispered, Why are you shaking?

She apologized with a smile and said she was just a little out of her comfort zone. The candle flickered, making her stumble over the words, the shadows beckoning her to submit. He smiled and kissed her, tying one wrist and then the other. It wasn’t tight, which helped her relax. He slid down her body and then tied her legs by the ankles. Now she knew she was the fly caught in the spider’s web.

She bit her lip and asked, What now?

He looked up at her from his knees and yanked the little step out from under her feet. She felt a quick burst of panic as she thought she would fall, but the spiderweb held her firmly in place, hanging just above the floor, her thighs just level with the edge of the bed.

Now? Now we begin.

He moved to the wall directly across from her and uncovered a large mirror. She could see herself in the dim candlelight as the shadows continued their contortions across the room. She watched as he moved around behind her, sliding up on the bed with the grace of a predatory cat. He lay on his back and slid his head in between her thighs, just over the edge of the bed.

He looked up at her as she watched in the mirror and said, I hope you are ready.

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The hunter demon slipped in through the ethereal barrier, taking her physical form just behind the two humans. Fools, she thought. One of the humans, the male, had just made the shortlist and had a one-way ticket to the Liquefiers. It had become routine for this arrogant piece of trash to kill the women he was attracted to. The cretin truly believed that he was entitled to the power he exerted over his victims. This would require a bit of skill. The stupid female had allowed this wretch to tie her up like livestock. She was lucky. She would survive this encounter—physically, anyway.

The male human, if left unchecked, would have made this woman his fourth kill in less than a six-week period. Her commands had been clear: take him before the death of the next human. The Angel of Death had been definitive on that point, but as always, the Old One left her some wiggle room to work with.

She touched down without a sound, taking the form of an attractive female. The single candle created plenty of shadows. Neither human would see her unless she wished it. The hunter demon had time. The male would not be ready to kill until after he had fulfilled his desire to dominate his victim. The demon slid silently along the wall, crouching past the doorway that led to a bathroom, lest she catch the attention of the fly trapped in the spider’s web.

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The killer thought himself so clever. He was rich and attractive. It was so easy to attract and tease and flirt. Women practically threw themselves at him. He had needed a challenge though. Life was becoming so dull, so boring that he was beginning to lose interest in the things that got him where he was today, and he couldn’t have that. Everything had always come so easy—money, success, popularity. Material things just weren’t satisfying any longer. He found that killing a person required things he didn’t really have—courage, boldness, and even a little hate was needed.

His first kill took all his considerable intelligence to pull off. He remembered her now. The way she had screamed almost forced him to vomit, but he managed to maintain his nerve. The first cut was awful. She struggled to get out of the spider’s web. Again and again, he slid the sharp surgical knife along her thigh, across the fibers of the muscle. He thought there would be more blood. The screams were almost deafening.

Thinking of his first always aroused such passion in him, not for sex but for the kill. He had learned quickly that patience was a virtue. Lying on his back, with his fourth hovering naked just above him, did nothing for him. His true desire was reaching the pinnacle, the high he got when he would apply the killing blow. Sex was just an inconvenient, incidental action necessary to reach his goal. He was a monster, but little did he know he wasn’t the only monster in the room.

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The woman squirmed with pleasure while her lover moved himself deftly around her suspended body. She was enraptured not just by the physical sensations but also by the emotions this stranger had brought to the surface. Never, even in her wildest fantasies, did she envision ever letting a man or anyone tie her up like this. He was strong and lean, never letting up on her for even a moment. She found herself gasping for breath as he worked his way from her mouth all the way down to her toes and then back up. She felt as if she were in Heaven. She knew once morning came that she would regret it. She had regretted every single one-night stand she had ever had. There was no reason to believe this would end up any differently.

There was a tiny spot of hope that she was clinging onto—that maybe there would be a follow-up to this amazing night. How could something so amazing and special be just a one-time thing? The thoughts breezed in and out of her mind, continually interrupted by the waves of pleasure that continued to force her to gasp as the stranger kissed her in every way she had ever wanted.

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The man extricated himself from number four. He couldn’t remember her name, but what did it matter? Yes, she was beautiful, but she would die like the rest. He nimbly hopped off the bed and slowly walked toward the bathroom, where he kept his kit. The plain black leather pouch was a shaving kit that held his scalpel and a straight razor.

Ember watched as the killer rummaged around in the linen closet. She watched as he withdrew a black bag. It made him smile. She let out a low growl and slithered past him to draw him away from the bedroom. The hunter demon allowed one of her claws to materialize, which she used to drag across a section of the wall leading to the stairs.

The killer immediately took note of the noise and went stalking toward the stairwell to investigate. Ember crept up the stairs to the room that would give her access to the home’s roof. She left another scratch on the wall, like a breadcrumb for the killer to follow. The man heard the scratch and dutifully followed. Once he reached the third floor, she would immobilize him and drag him out onto the roof.

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The woman continued to hang on the spider’s web, suspended over the floor, unable to move. She heard the commotion and called out to her lover. When he did not respond, she tried again, hoping that she had not done something wrong, but how could she? She’d been tied up and abandoned like an unwanted dog whose leash had gotten tangled in the brambles. She wondered what she had gotten herself into and called out once more, to no avail.

Then a sliver of hope perked her ears as she heard her lover call out, Who’s there?

The hope quickly turned to shame and embarrassment as she could not imagine being found like this by another human being. It suddenly dawned on her that perhaps it would be wise to change her lifestyle if she got out of this mess. Another more forceful chill sent a spike of panic through her, and she modified her last thought: if she survived.

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The killer stalked up the stairs and reached the third floor. Out of the darkness, a hulking figure, seven feet in height, materialized without a sound. The creature’s tail entwined itself around the killer’s body, completely restraining him. He began to scream but was silenced as the last curl of the thing’s tail wrapped itself firmly around his mouth. He moaned and tried to struggle but could do nothing against the strength with which he was being suspended in the air.

Ember easily controlled the killer and had trapped his arms and hands so quickly that he had never even dropped the shaving kit in his surprise. She moved to the dormer window and smashed it out without making a sound, an oddity of hunter demons. She climbed out and made her way to the peak of the roof, the killer in tow behind her, securely wrapped in her tail. The hunter demon squat and gently set the killer’s feet down on the very tip of the roof. She was invisible to all save her victim. To anyone able to view the roof, all they would see was a man standing on the roof, perilously close to falling to his death.

Ember loosened her tail from the bottom up, keeping the killer’s mouth clamped shut. She watched with a burning anger as the human tried to keep his balance on the lip of the roof. The hunter demon hated this creature and wanted him to feel the terror he so deserved. Without warning, she released the killer fully and watched as he desperately tried to keep his balance. She inched closer to him, her long bony tail wrapping itself around her waist as if it had a mind of its own. She moved a little closer. The gap between them had been roughly five feet and was now only three.

What do you want from me? The human had bravely managed to spit out the question, fear oozing from every word.

Ember smiled, exposing a mouth full of curved fangs and teeth. It is not me who wants anything from you. She was enjoying the moment. She moved closer yet again, two feet now. You have been condemned to death. I offer you a choice.

The killer stumbled over his fear, the words barely audible. Wha . . . what choice? What choice?

Ember moved to within a foot of the man. The smell of evil and cowardice would have made her vomit if she hadn’t become accustomed to it long ago. The choice? You may choose to leap off the roof, or I can kill you right here and now in the most unspeakable, painful way imaginable. I trust that by looking at me, you know that I am quite capable of such violence.

The killer looked at the massive hunter demon and took note of the razor-sharp claws. Clearly, the beast was capable of accomplishing what it had claimed. In a moment of courage and clarity, the killer somehow managed to maintain perfect balance on the lip of the roof. He smiled somehow and then leaped into the night air.

Ember, not happy with the killer’s choice, moved to the edge of the roof in the blink of an eye and lashed out with her tail, snagging the falling human. She let him hang for just a moment before she lifted him back up. He screamed, knowing he had lost any chance at a quick death. The hunter demon wrapped the killer fully in her insidious tail. Thousands of tiny mouths spanned the length of the vertebrae that formed the appendage. They began penetrating the killer’s skin so that Ember could extract his black soul. The human screamed in unimaginable pain. Normally, a human’s soul was not extracted while they were still alive. Ember held court and judged that this animal was not worthy of such mercy.

Ember drew the soul out slowly. The suffering the killer went through was exquisite. The hunter demon felt the intoxicating effect of the killer’s soul filling her chalice. Once the whole of the soul had been collected, the human twitched once and was still. Ember, disgusted by her victim, dumped the lifeless body over the edge, and it fell the three stories down to the front walkway. The killer landed with a rather satisfying crunch. She took a moment to survey her handiwork. Her rage satiated, Ember vanished in silence, soul in tow. There was a terrible smile on her face.

She never discovered what had happened to the female she had left behind in the bedroom, but at the time, Ember couldn’t have cared less. The foolish creature was not her responsibility.

Book I

I

The wave smashed him against the high cliff wall. The impact sent a painful, blinding wave of pain through his skull. The water pounded him again, forcing his battered body deeper and nearly forcing the air from his lungs. The demon didn’t know which direction the surface lay. He could feel himself being pulled along now. The current had sucked him in.

He felt a sudden acceleration. As he tried to orient himself, he was suddenly slammed into a wall. A tunnel? He was doomed. Being dragged into a deep cave meant that he would most certainly drown. His lungs were burning now. All he could hope for was that he would get pushed into an air pocket so that he would be able to add a few more seconds to what had become a miserable existence. He was reaching the end of his endurance.

As he gave up his struggle to keep his body from spinning and flipping, the current spilled him into a shallow pool. The demon managed to drag himself half out of the silvery liquid. He tried gulping for air. He gagged and vomited. He coughed and turned over on his back. He looked down and realized his legs were still lying in the water. He dragged himself out, knowing very well that there were things that could easily drag him back in. Drowning would be sweet bliss compared to being bitten in half or worse. Horrors best not spoken of thrived in this place. The Deep had meant to claim him, but somehow he had survived.

The demon forced his seven-foot frame upright. Only then did he realize the severity of the peril that he now faced. His right leg buckled underneath him. He fell back down in a painful heap. He reached to feel his knee and noticed a bone sticking out of his right arm. Practically crippled, he nearly said out loud. He could manage somewhat with the broken arm, but the injury to his knee would cut down his mobility. That could prove fatal in this place.

He felt cold, something he hadn’t felt in millennia. He slowly moved to his left. The scraping of his body against the cave floor sounded unnaturally loud. The demon stopped for a moment, pain flaring in his broken arm. An uncharacteristic whimper escaped his torn lip. He moved left a bit more and found the cave’s wall. The pain in his head was fading, bringing the rest of his injuries into focus.

He could hear his breathing and the sound of the underground stream that had dumped him in this unholy place. He felt like a rodent that had been run over by a speeding car. He wanted to kill something. That always made him feel better. The demon needed to find a way out, find a way back to the surface. The idea made him smile in the dark.

Unbeknownst to the demon, another entity lay undisturbed in the darkness of the caves. Unlike the demon, it didn’t know what day it was. It didn’t even know what century it was, for that matter. It had been awakened. Something had entered its deep refuge. Surviving in Limbo long after its brethren had perished had heightened its sense of survival. A great war had destroyed nearly all its kind long ago. On the day that war ended, Limbo had very nearly been torn from the fabric of reality because of the powers that had been wielded. Unluckily for it, the powers of light had vanquished the darkness. The forces of Saint Peter’s had survived yet again.

The pain of the matter faded as the ancient intelligence heard yet again the scraping of claw on stone. The cave the ancient wyrm resided in was partially filled with the silvery liquid that seeped in from the Deep. It flexed its massive claws, black talons that had kept their razor-sharp edge throughout the centuries. Thick muscle contracted and complained as the wyrm began to slither and climb, pulling the rest of its enormous body out of the water in utter silence.

If the great beast could be seen on the surface, it would appear to be as black as night about three quarters of the way down its body. The rest had been somehow stained over time by the silver-white liquid of the Deep, causing the scales to take on a similar color. In the darkness of the cave, not even the wyrm knew that its hide had been discolored.

The wyrm, now climbing a sheer vertical wall, could smell what had disturbed its sleep. What manner of treachery is this? It climbed a bit higher and then stopped, listening for another telltale sound. Wretched creature, move again so that I may taste of your flesh. It could not remember the last time it had eaten. In the cavern’s complete darkness, the wyrm flicked its tongue out, smiling maliciously.

The cavern the wyrm currently occupied had not been open to the cave above when it had originally entered, but water had bored an opening down into its refuge over the centuries. The wyrm could not see that the opening wasn’t large enough for it to pass through completely. As it dragged itself up into the higher cave, it got stuck.

The creature that had awakened it was only scant yards away from its maw. Perhaps if it could somehow dislodge the creature from the cavern’s wall, it would fall close enough to reach. The thought pleased it greatly, so it tried to remember what it was that demons loved the most. The wyrm knew it was a demon. His smell was unique, like deceit and rotting meat. Confident in itself, the wyrm savored the thought of tasting warm demon blood again.

Perhaps before it feasted, however, it would try to garner some information from this intruder. It would be helpful to know what century this was, what the world outside was like, and whether or not it would be better off just returning to its slumber. It continued to listen for many minutes. The demon seemed to be very disciplined. Maybe the creature was a lost hunter or even a guardian demon. The wyrm could not detect the slightest scent of fear on the thing. That ruled out the chance of it being one of Heaven’s little helpers. So much intrigue after so many years spent sleeping!

The wyrm was enjoying his little guessing game so much that it had almost missed the sound of a claw clicking on the stone. It could sense that the demon was somewhat closer than it had originally thought. The demon was hanging directly above it on the same wall it was perched on. It decided to slink back down to where its lower body was stuck. It buried its claws deep into the wall of the cave.

With a mighty heave, it flung itself as high as possible. As the wyrm reached the pinnacle of its leap, it could smell the demon, mere inches from its maw. The powerful jaws opened wide and then slammed shut with otherworldly force, sheering through a rock ledge that had been jutting out over the cliff face. It missed. The scent was tantalizing, begging it to try again. As it fell back to the cavern floor, its lower body felt as if it might have loosened just a bit with the effort, making the wyrm smile widely.

Are you still there, little demon?

The next leap would take it high enough to snatch its meal from its perch. The wyrm began to carefully set its claws into the cavern wall in preparation for its next leap up at the unfortunate demon who was trying desperately to remain clinging to the wall high above the cavern floor. As the wyrm positioned itself vertically on the cave wall, a rock came flying down from where the demon was hanging. It struck the wyrm on the head.

The great beast roared up into the dark, Insolence!

The wyrm growled and leaped again, powerful forelegs propelling it high into the cave. It yet again felt its lower body holding it down, and to make matters worse, the demon had somehow managed to climb out of reach. The scent of its meal had scurried farther up the wall, much faster than it could have predicted.

Why run? Would it not be easier to die quickly and end all this suffering? Surely, you prefer that to having me flay your skin from your bones little by little. I could do so for centuries, bringing you to the brink of death and then letting you recover.

The demon felt safe enough to finally break his silence. I don’t believe that you would be interested in eating me, my ancient friend.

The wyrm cocked its head, searching its memory for something that would identify this brash intruder. The wyrm growled, So the little cricket speaks! Tell me, little cricket, what is your name? Surely, we are strangers and not friends, as you might like to believe.

Tell me, mighty one, how did you feel when the light cast you out and ripped you from the earthly plane, unable to return? The demon had easily guessed what sort of creature was trying to make a meal of him.

Curse you! the wyrm howled at the insult. Nothing on Earth or in Heaven would openly speak like that to such an ancient being. How dare you speak of something you know nothing about! I am eternal. I saw how the light had destroyed all of my kind. I chose to remain here in Limbo so that I may savor my revenge. The wyrm’s voice rumbled through the cavern, deep and menacing.

You are wrong, ancient one. I too saw how the darkness was pushed back. You and I have much in common, I’m sorry to say.

The wyrm thought back through time uncounted and recalled the fierce battle that had nearly destroyed both worlds. It bristled at memories it had not wanted to recall. Tell me, little cricket, what is the world like now? I would so enjoy returning home.

The demon let out a short bitter laugh. It has been over one hundred centuries since your kind’s time. The world has changed. Humans have spread over the planet like insects. They have become the dominant species on the mortal plane.

Lies! the wyrm growled. How could such a base creature have gained such power?

The demon peered down, unable to make out the great wyrm. He favors these wretched creatures over all others. As I told you, Great One, the world has changed. You would not recognize it. Understand that I sympathize with you and would help you in any way possible to exact your revenge. I too have a score to settle with the powers of light.

Why should I care of your troubles? You are an insignificant speck of dust floating through the vast universe. The wyrm shifted its position, looking up with hunger in its large glowing green eyes. I grow hungry, little cricket. Tell me why I should not devour you and then return to my slumber.

The wyrm wiggled and tugged at the lower half of its body. It finally pulled free, smiling wickedly as it considered whether or not to abruptly end the conversation with its new acquaintance.

The demon heard rock breaking loose and falling below the level where the wyrm was stalking him. The demon wasn’t stupid. It knew that the ancient creature would find a way to climb up to the next level. The hourglass opening of the cavern wouldn’t have held the beast long, and from the sounds of it, the wyrm had managed to wriggle through the opening.

I share your hunger, great wyrm. The time will soon come when we will both feast on the flesh of those that dwell in the light.

The wyrm heard something familiar in the demon’s voice then. It wasn’t sure if it knew who the demon was or if it was just the same old rhetoric from days of old.

Tell me a story, little cricket. It has been so long since I enjoyed a good tale. Make it a long one, the wyrm purred. It may be your last.

The wyrm pulled itself off the cavern wall and slunk back down to the floor, curling up to listen to what yarn the demon had to weave.

The demon smiled. It was time to see if there was any silver left in his tongue. He had a knack for being very persuasive, and from the sounds of it, he would need to craft a masterpiece if he wanted to survive the next several minutes of his life. So without any further delay, Whisper found a narrow outcropping of stone and began to tell the wyrm a story that spanned some two hundred–odd years.

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Nathaniel swung the axe low, nearly severing the demon’s leg, causing him to fall down on his knees. Yanking the blade out, he reared back and swung down hard. The axe connected with a sickening crunch, cleanly cutting off the monster’s head.

Another demon tried to charge down the human from Nate’s left but realized too late that the wicked double-headed axe was already burying itself in his chest. The beast’s momentum carried it past Nathaniel. Nate gripped and quickly yanked the axe out, making the demon spin once on its heels. The demon collapsed on the ground, face first, bleeding profusely.

Nate knew that it wasn’t over. He approached the downed demon with caution, keeping the axe raised over his shoulder. The fall leaves crunched under his feet as he stalked toward the beast. A few more steps, and he would be able to cut the head off his attacker, killing it for good.

Without warning, the demon spun onto its back and propelled itself at Nate. All Nate had time to do was brace for the impact, positioning the axe between himself and the demon.

Die, bastard! the beast hissed at Nate.

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Ember sat in