He felt the lower part of his left leg come in contact with the blade and knew immediately that it was bad. A surge of pain flashed through him, so intense he almost blacked out again. When his vision cleared, he found himself prone on the ground. His brother was standing over him again, the point of his sword pressed up against Sam’s heart. This was starting to become a regular occurrence.
“Well, well, well,” said a smooth voice so well oiled it could only belong to one … being. Satan had returned home.
Through the haze of his pain, Sam swivelled his head in the same direction that his brother was staring.
Satan stood on the opposite side of the rock finger to the Watcher. He was not alone. Joshua and Aimi were with him, Aimi still captive, a knife at her throat.
“Father,” said Semiazas. “Now you will see who is the stronger.” He readied his blade to plunge into Sam’s heart.
The Father of Lies simply nodded. “Yes, we will.”
Semiazas’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you mean by that?” he demanded.
His father never got the chance to reply. This was Sam’s moment. Despite the crippling injury and pain, he had to use this distraction. Both of his swords were still, unbelievably, gripped in his hands. Other than when they were knocked out of his hands, Hikari had taught him never to release his swords, regardless of how much pain he suffered. He remembered past training sessions when his master would hit his hands as hard as he could with bamboo staves, trying to make him drop his weapons. Sam never had. At least, not until today.
It was testament to Semiazas’s power that Sam had already lost his grip on his weapons once today. But old habits died hard. Even in semi-consciousness, he’d retained his grip. He wasn’t about to waste this opportunity.
He powered upwards with both swords, using all his remaining strength. His wakizashi went wide but he felt the katana bite into his brother’s flesh with a satisfying judder. It wasn’t a life threatening injury but it just could even things up slightly. Semiazas cried out and leapt backwards, clutching his side.
Ignoring the immense pain and the wave of dizziness that threatened to overcome him, Sam stood, clearly favouring his right leg, keeping as much weight off his injured leg as possible. Blood began to pool underneath his booted heel. Sam knew he didn’t have much time. Feigning even greater weakness than he felt, he made himself stumble. With a savage cry of triumph, Semiazas moved in for the kill.
Suddenly, the words of Hikari rose unbidden into his head. Two weapons. Defend and attack at the same time.
Somehow, incredibly, pivoting on his one good leg, Sam swivelled with a speed he didn’t know he had, knocking his brother’s blade aside with one sword while his second slid up underneath. The blade plunged straight through Semiazas’ armour and into his stomach, emerging out the other side.
They were face to face. Sam could see the shock registering on his brother’s face, his certain victory now transformed into defeat in less than a second. Sam pulled his blade out savagely and let Semiazas’ body fall to the ground.
“Finish him,” said his father. “Kill your brother and take your place as the Antichrist.”
He looked down at his brother and saw the despair and betrayal on his face. Semiazas should have expected this, he thought. Satan was certainly not renowned for his tolerance or sympathy.
Sam faced his father. “No,” he gasped.
The blood loss and pain were almost too much now and it was hard to think, but he knew what he had to do. Semiazas deserved to die, but it would not be by his hand. The handsome face of his father flickered as it had before, long ago, and Sam saw what appeared to be the head of a hyena take its place for the barest moment. It was so quick that he doubted anyone else saw it.
Satan was not smiling now. Gone was the amused tolerance he normally wore like a cloak. He was not messing around any longer. “Then the life of your woman is forfeit.”
He gestured towards Joshua. The boy hesitated for a moment and Sam’s heart skipped a beat. Perhaps Joshua wouldn’t do it? Sam prayed fervently that he wouldn’t as there was no way he could reach Aimi in time. He saw Joshua grit his teeth and the hand that held the knife strengthened its grip, preparing to cut her throat. Aimi cried out.
“Behind you, boy,” said the Watcher from his place on the far side of the rocky island.
Joshua turned his head, his eyes wide, but there was nothing there. The movement of his shoulders took the knife ever so slightly away from Aimi’s neck. Aimi, well trained and recognising a distraction when she saw one, didn’t hesitate. Her hands were bound but her feet weren’t. Sam knew from experience that her feet were just as deadly as her hands. She dropped and flung one of her legs out, sweeping Joshua’s feet out from under him.
The look of disbelief on his face was almost comical. Sam thought he saw betrayal there as well but only for a moment. It made him feel sorry for him. Despite everything, despite his betrayal, he and Joshua had been friends. Other than Aimi and Grace, he had been his only one, and a good one for what it was worth. Besides, what chance had Josh had when confronted with demonic power? He was, after all, only human. He wished things had been different but it was too late now.
Joshua’s arms flailed urgently but it made no difference. With a scream, he toppled off the rocky precipice and into the waiting fires below.
“My mistake,” said the Watcher calmly.
Satan turned his baleful gaze on the creature. “You,” he roared, “should not interfere. Your presence here is tolerated, but make no mistake, interfere again and you will become a permanent fixture. There are private places in my kingdom that I reserve especially for those who anger me.”
The Watcher returned Satan’s stare for only a moment. Something unspoken passed between them and the Watcher bowed his head fractionally. He disappeared.
Aimi rushed over to Sam, now on his knees, the excruciating pain too much to bear. She cradled his head in her arms, crying and whispering prayers. He kissed her and then looked down at his foot. It was barely attached to his leg. Blood poured out of the wound in disturbing quantities.
Aimi used the sharp edge of one of his blades to cut through her bonds. Then, ripping the hem of her t-shirt off, she quickly bound his injury. Blood soaked it immediately. Usually, his injuries would start healing straight away. He had never had a problem with bleeding like this. Something was wrong.
Sam’s gaze found the unmoving body of his brother nearby. Semiazas’s black sword was just out of reach from his still hand. Realisation dawned. The sword! Of course! No wonder his wound refused to heal. He’d been struck a blow with a cursed sword from Hell. Terror filled him then. He would bleed to death in Hell and never again be able to leave.
Aimi’s eyes were filled with tears. “Don’t die,” she whispered urgently. “Don’t die. You can’t die! I won’t let you! I love you.”
“So touching,” sneered Satan. “Touching but futile. Here’s the thing though. The wound from Soulstealer won’t heal, even with his extraordinary powers of recuperation. Only I can save him. Of course there is a condition.”
“What?” pleaded Aimi, tears streaming down her face. “Anything.”
“Anything?” Satan laughed. “Well, in that case my conditions are as follows. Samael becomes my little horn, with unlimited power over all those weakling mortals and you remain here, with me, in Hell.”
“No,” whispered Sam, his voice weak and hoarse.
But like his voice, he could feel his resolve weakening. His mind felt foggy. Satan’s words promised everything. Despite himself, he felt tempted. Why not? No one appreciated him on Earth. And hadn’t he proven to his father that he was stronger than his brother? He deserved to take his rightful place at his father’s side. A part of him knew that this wasn’t his true self speaking, but he was almost past the point of caring. Wouldn’t Aimi be safe here? And he could visit her whenever he liked.