Page 97 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires

“May history forget you, you worthless fuck!” I kicked him in the chest.

Beelzebub roared, thunderous and godly, as the Diabolic orb contained his essence, shredding it into microscopic pieces, pieces which swam alongside Lilith’s essence. The two collided, their beings warring even in this prison.

I tumbled forward and nearly collapsed on the ground. I took deep, exhausted breaths, each exhale returning and restoring pieces of the city. It’d need a complete overhaul, maybe just a wrecking ball to finish the job, but I didn’t want to see this place die. I didn’t want to see anyone die. No death. Not B… I bit my lip. I couldn’t say it. Couldn’t think it. Couldn’t feel it. Not now, not ever.

Mora and Kell walked over, each using the other as a prop to stand as their legs trembled with exhaustion.

“There isn’t a hole deep enough to drop these two.” Mora stared at the orb, studying it cautiously while wrapping her arm around Kell’s waist.

“There’s one place we can send them,” I said, fighting back every sob ready to burst out.

I couldn’t process Bez’s death. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to.

“We can send them to Oblivion.” I stood to my feet. “Drop them into the nothingness where they won’t be a threat to anyone.”

“I can see those gears turning, Walter. It doesn’t take much to know what you’re thinking.” Mora studied me, careful and cautious in the way she sidestepped. “I’m sorry about Bez, but we can’t open Oblivion.”

“Yes, we can. Bez pulled me out of that place with devil essence, I can do the same.”

“He pulled out your consciousness,” Mora explained. “He waved a little flag of devil essence which retrieved your mind.”

“And I’ll do the same,” I snapped.

“Bez is gone on a cellular level, mind, body, and soul cast into the nothingness of Oblivion,” Mora declared it so nonchalantly, so callous, so flippant about the situation. “It takes a devil, a true and complete devil, to open the doorway to Oblivion and pluck out a deceased demon.”

“I’m unique, a hybrid devil unlike any other.” I barred my teeth. “I’ll open Oblivion and pull out every fucking demon if that’s what it takes.”

“You’re powerful, Walter. More powerful than I think any of us realize quite yet, but you can’t open Oblivion. You wouldn’t even know where to look for the door to Oblivion.”

“Where is it?”

“I don’t know,” Mora hissed. “It’s nothingness—not sure it has a fixed location. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“They would, though.” I stared at the orb. “I can leash Lilith or Beelzebub, form a Diabolic bond with one, force them to do my bidding, and open Oblivion.”

“They’re both broken, incomplete devils, incapable of opening the doorway on their own.”

“Then I’ll form a bond with both of them,” I shouted. “I’ll make them obey, make them work together. Two partial devils could surely be strong enough to open one damn doorway. Stop coming up with reasons this won’t work and help find a fucking solution!”

“I might have a better idea than taming the shrew and her eternal cuckold.” Corson propped a foot on the orb, a cocky grin on his smug face. “Why make deals with devils when you can dance with demons?”

“I don’t have time for riddles or annoying come-ons.”

“I want to be rid of Lilith permanently, and I very much enjoy your idea of dropping her into Oblivion, where she’s left me to rot many times before,” Corson said. “The beautiful thing about falling into Oblivion over and over and over again? You start to memorize the trail leading to nowhere.”

Was this real? Was this really going to happen? Were we going to rescue Bez from death?

My heart surged. “Let’s do this.”

28

Bez

Damn. Dead. Again. It’d been so long since Beelzebub had struck me down, shattered my being to nothingness, that I’d forgotten the sensation. The agony of burning. So much fire. Blistering heat that seared every cell of my being.

Merely a handful of seconds, yet this excruciating phantom burn clung to me as I drifted in darkness. Everything was nothing, dull, but Beelzebub made sure I’d hold onto this radiating icy cold grip of death.

My only hope was that his vindictive spite was a sign of his faltering success against the orb. Gods, I hoped it held. I hoped Wally and the others managed to defeat him without more loss.

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