The Lost - Part 2

By the time Aramis got back to the city, he felt almost invincible. If the opportunity had presented itself at that moment, he would have taken on hell’s entire army, a mental image that only brought him some other kinds of specific queries, more particularly the one about Lucifer and his whereabouts.

It was no secret that Aramis and Lucifer had acquired a very strong bond over the last few years of Aramis’ stay on Earth, so to people around Aramis (or Matthew, as he called himself around these parts lately) it was only natural that the demon would worry about his bosom buddy to the extent as to offer a very juicy reward to anyone who could provide factual information concerning the whereabouts of such highly recognizable face (Danká even suggested putting Lucifer’s face on a milk carton, but this idea was immediately cast aside, since Lucifer was already a well-known public figure and to actually go out and bluntly say that he was missing would be a terrible thing indeed). Aramis was kind of hoping some of the hunters would come up with something would help him find the Lord of Darkness, yet when none of them came back with anything reliable, Aramis began to really worry.

“Ah could see if th’ A.I.S. has somethin’ in their archives about it,” Danká suggested one day. “Bu’ it would take some time: most o’ th’ high officers are well-aware o’ your involvement with demonic activity already, an’ are very skeptical ‘bout lettin’ anyone outside from the Earthy status inside their books.”

“Try and see what you can come up with,” Aramis said. It sounded like a good idea, even if the results might take a little while longer to obtain. He had a stinking feeling that something had gone terribly wrong – and he didn’t like that; he didn’t like that at all.

“You’re just imagining things,” Elaosu said. He sounded tired, he looked tired. Aramis noticed he had tremendous bags around his eyes and could only guess that Elaosu hadn’t been sleeping all too well.

“Having bad dreams again, Connor?” he asked, whipping empty glasses while pretending not to pay attention to every single detail in Elaosu’s face.

“They’re not bad – more like… weird.”

“Please, enlighten me…”

“It’s the same dream – about Sam and Nikky… and my hands keep burning,” he showed Aramis his palms, and the demon took a closer look. The symbols in Elaosu’s hands had begun to change somehow. “Do you think it’s connected?”

“Maybe,” Aramis said after a minute or so of analyzing those hands. “Has the dream changed in any way?”

“No.”

“When it does, you need to tell me about it, alright?”

“Why is it so important – my dreams, I mean?”

“What do you mean?”

“You ask me about them almost every day,” Elaosu said bluntly. “Why are my dreams so important to you?”

Aramis didn’t know exactly how to answer that for he himself didn’t know it either, not exactly anyways, and that was part of the reasons he needed to find Lucifer. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “All I know is that somehow they are… and somehow I believe that Lucifer has vanished because of it.”

“Maybe you should ask Kube, see if he knows anything about him,” Elaosu said in a very languid tone, as if he was experiencing with an upcoming terrible headache.

“Why should I ask Kube?” Aramis asked intrigued.

“Kube and Lucifer are close, didn’t you know that?”

Aramis gave him this look of “no, I didn’t”.
________________________________________

“People are talkin’ trash ‘bout yah behin’ your back, Danká, and quite frankly Ah am worried ‘bout what they say. They say tha’ yah hang ‘round a demon’s nest – a bad kind of demon’s nest, an’ that Michael thinks tha’ yah had somethin’ t’ do with tha’ demon escapin’ hell a while back.”

Danká blew out a light cloud of smoke while stroking his hands in that alley trash can to keep himself warm thanks to the bonfire inside such can. Right next to him stood an elderly black woman, looking pretty much like a classical case of homeless lunatic, dirty clothes, raggedy skirt, hobo gloves and all, looking at Danká like a mother looks at her boy trying to seek out the truth. She wore a crazy amount of necklaces around her neck, most of them made out of shells and small bones that made a whole lot of rattling noise whenever she moved around. “Don’t yah listen t’ them, Hattie,” the angel said, bringing a light in to the woman’s eyes. “People are jus’ mean an’ wanna bring everyone down these days.”

The old woman laughed delighted to hear those words. “That’s what Ah thought! There ain’t no way, no how mah’ boy would be tanglin’ ‘round bad people, nuh-ah, not mah’ boy!” she gave Danká a hug as they both laughed, then, she asked with a suspicious whisper: “Bu’ wha’ are yah doin’ ‘ere boy?! Yah know this ain’t a safe haven for yah!”

“Ah ‘ad t’ see yah, Hattie: Ah needs some info’ ‘but the A.I.S.; Ah needs t’ get in touch with somebody.”

“Michael is not allowin’ anyone near them,” Hattie sounded strange, “not even old Hattie. Ah thinks ‘e might be int’ some deep shit.”

“Yah don’t say?”

“Hm-hum. Th’ other day, Ah saws ‘im walkin’ around Main Street talkin’ t’ that no-good Camael in a very low profile. Yah don’t do tha’ unless yah have somethin’ t’ hide. Camael ain’t good angel, no sir: he makes deals with the Devil.”

“Tha’ low-rotten scum bag!” Danká sounded outraged. “No angel should be makin’ deals with the Devil, Hattie! Tha’ really blows mah bubbles!”

Hattie laughed, showing all her pearly whites as she did. Then, she abruptly stopped laughing and looked mysteriously at Danká. “Some bad voodoo mojo is goin’ on ‘ere, m’boy,” she said. “The Devil is gone, an’ for some reason Ah fear tha’ it is unnatural. The Dreamah’ is havin’ nightmares tha’ are not ‘is own: th’ darkness is callin’ th’ Waker an’ soon we’re all gonna be in grave danger…”

Danká leaned down towards her. “Don’t yah worry, Hattie; Ah’m workin’ on tha’ too. Ah would nevah let anything ‘appen t’ yah – nevah!”

Hattie smiled and pulled on Danká’s cheeks with motherly playfulness, “Mah’, mah’! You are one o’ th’ good ones, m’boy!” she kissed him on both cheeks, took off one of her necklaces and placed it around Danká’s neck. “Th’ spirit will guide yah an’ protect yah. Don’t you evah’ take this off, yah ‘ear?!” She took her shopping cart and placed some of the canned goods that Danká had dropped off when he got there, “God blesses an’ protects ‘is prodigious son at th’ ‘oly grounds, m’boy! Th’ Lord would nevah’ let anythin’ ‘appen t’ ‘is own blood.”

“Thank yah, Hattie!” Danká waved good-bye to the woman with the swinging step. He then looked up to the sky, “Oh, Hattie!” he sighed, “Ah’m really gonna miss yah when you’re gone.”

Danká returned to Aramis shortly after that, being gone for three days already. He found Aramis strangely altered, yet made no comments about it because (1) he valued his life, and (2), even thought Anavar had made him completely incapable of conceiving children, he valued his balls all the same.

“Ah spoke t’ one o’ my closest contacts,” he said in a private interview they had inside the warehouse. They had no need to turn on the lights for their magical eyes could see perfectly in the absolute darkness that surrounded them.

“Bu’ first a question: haven’t yah noticed tha’ even th’ Hunters aren’t havin’ troubles findin’ angels?”

“The images have come to my attention, yes.”

“Well, Michael and th’ rest o’ the angelical high consort have been sein’ ‘round in broad daylight by some o’ the Visionaries…”

“You saw Hattie, didn’t you,” Aramis gave him a wicked smile. Danká’s wing feathers did a little ruffle.

“So what if Ah did?!” he exclaimed in self-defense. “She told me tha’ Michael had been doin’ bad business ovah’ with Camael, and Ah for one don’t like that business relationship, it’s nothin’ bu’ bad news!”

“Yes, but did you find out anything about Lucifer?”

“Hattie tolds me tha’ we might find ‘im ovah’ at the cemetery.”

“Did that raving lunatic used such well-conceived words?”

“Not really – bu’ she did mention holy grounds, an’ what’s holier than a place where dead people hang out?”

Aramis sat back against the wall and began a quiet thinking process, broken only when Danká spoke once more, “Want me t’ send out mah’ people t’ check it out all the same?”

“Yeah,” the demon said distracted. Danká took notice of this and asked:

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“I’ve been hearing voices… and they aren’t my usual little leprechauns giving me the usual killing spree ideas.”

“That’s bad coming from yah’.”

“It’s apocalyptic, in biblical proportions!”

“Hah!” Danká laughed, “Yah’ said biblical!”