“Is that everyone?” Gabriel rested his spear on his shoulder and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

“Griffin hasn’t reported back yet,” Michael glanced down at the railway one last time.

“I don’t understand why the Council made him a Grim Reaper in the first--”

“Griffin!” Michael screamed, interrupting Gabriel. He had stretched his hand out, as if he were trying to grab Griffin even though he was far away.

Archangel Gabriel jerked his head down and saw Griffin exiting the forest with a soul restrained on his back. He then sensed three Demons moving towards Griffin fast. The Demons jumped out of the trees and one of them managed to snatch Griffin’s robe, pulling him down to the ground hard. Griffin’s head hitting the track echoed loudly, followed by the sound of his Soul-Chain breaking as the Demons detached the soul from Griffin’s back.

Griffin immediately rolled to the side, barely missing a female Demon’s ferocious bite. The Demon’s jaw ripped through the metal railway and quickly turned to attack Griffin again. Griffin grabbed his scythe and without getting up placed the handle in front of his face. Saliva from the Demon’s mouth drooled and flickered all over Griffin as she tried to chew through the handle like a rabid dog. Despite the fear that quickly suffocated Griffin, he had succeeded in infusing his weapon’s handle with mana, allowing it to hold against the ferocious bites of the Demon’s deformed dog-like jaw.

Before Archangel Gabriel could lower the spear off his shoulder, Archangel Michael had already pushed out his wings and opened them wide. The majestic white feathered wings were as divine as they were deadly, and as beautiful as they were frightening. A flap of his wings and Michael disappeared. A deafening thunder and strong wind followed, almost blowing Archangel Gabriel out of the sky. Archangel Michael turned into a blinding gold and white beam, heading for Griffin faster than the speed of sound.

The Demon thrust forward again and again, desperately trying to break the scythe and gnaw Griffin’s head off. Griffin felt the long, disgustingly yellow, razor-sharp teeth of the Demon’s monstrous jaw scratching against his bony head, carving deeper and deeper with each attempt. Suddenly the Demon disappeared, and a powerful gust of air raised a dust cloud, shrouding the area in darkness for a few seconds.

Griffin jumped to his feet and noticed Archangel Michael was next to him, on one knee and using his shield for support, breathing fast and heavy. The Demon had turned into pulp, a stain on the Archangel’s shield that dribbled to the ground.

“Are you ok?” Archangel Michael stood to his feet, and with a jerk of his shield he splattered the Demon’s remains to the ground.

Griffin was mesmerized by the breath-taking wings that expanded from the Archangel’s shoulders all the way to his ankles. He briefly turned his sight to the shield, before looking at the black liquid on the ground; all that remained of the Demon.

“She won’t implode if that’s what you are waiting for,” Michael’s wings retracted into his back. “I forced her soul to reset. Any essence she once had will not follow her back to Hell. She’ll have to start over,” the Archangel groaned and grabbed his head, wobbling a bit.

Gabriel landed behind them and grabbed Michael before he fell. “Wow Michael, take it easy. You burned way too much mana way too fast. Give your body a minute to recover.”

“The other two,” Archangel Michael breathed heavily, “They stole the soul and are heading for Hell’s crossover.”

“Griffin, where do you think you are going?” Archangel Gabriel yelled as he realized that Griffin started chasing after the Demons.

“I touched that last soul before they stole it, Gabriel,” Griffin shouted back, “It’s a soul meant for Heaven. We can’t let them take it.”

“Go help him. If what he said is true, then we cannot lose that soul,” Michael pushed Gabriel away.

Gabriel chased after Griffin and roared as he caught up with him, raising his hand, ready to throw his spear. The roar caught both Demons’ attention and they looked back, searching for the source of the terrifying cry. The furthest Demon of the two, who was carrying Nathaniel’s soul on his shoulder, only saw the spear’s pointy edge before it tore through the side of his skull. The Demon dropped to his knees and the spear sank into the ground, bringing him to an abrupt stop. The chained soul hit the ground hard and rolled down the mountain. The other Demon ran after it and Griffin wasn’t far behind. The Demon grabbed the edge of the Soul-Chain and was about to pull it close when Griffin’s scythe landed on his forearm blade first. The Demon screamed and black blood sprayed out. Griffin pulled back his scythe and swung again horizontally, aiming for the Demon’s chest. The Demon fell back, slid beneath the blade, and used his tail to trip Griffin over. Griffin took flight before hitting the ground and did a forward flip, landing on his feet behind the Demon, and continued chasing after him.

“Griffin, be careful. You mustn’t cross into Hell,” Gabriel had sensed the crossover gate at the bottom of the hill.

Nathaniel’s soul came to a stop as it reached the bottom of the mountain and the Demon was the first to reach it. He placed the soul under his good arm, looked to his right and leapt with incredible force. Griffin realized the Demon was going for the crossover into Hell. He landed in a squat and lunged, allowing the momentum he had built running down the mountain to carry him closer to the Demon. Halfway through the jump Griffin grabbed his scythe from the lowest point available, turned the blade inwards, and swung.

Everything blacked-out, as if the sun had an off switch and someone flipped it. There was only darkness all around and the air was filled with a creepy silence. Griffin’s mind became void of all thought and for a moment all activity stopped, as if he had died. One by one his senses returned, and fear slowly enveloped him, teasing his mind. First his tremulous body, the scythe in his shaky hand with something caught on its blade. The fear was now clear in his mind, transforming into panic. Then a sickening smell, but the lack of intestines spared him the unpleasant gagging of the throat and the ugly involuntary contractions of the stomach trying to vomit. His panic turned to terror.

Laboured breathing caught Griffin’s attention and his survival instinct kicked in, capping the terror back into the depths of his mind. The wheezing became louder, and its rhythm matched the barely distinguishable movement of the scythe, before it turned into a slow gurgle. Chains fell to the ground.

“Chains? My Soul-Chain. Nathaniel. The Demon I was chasing,” the iris and pupils of Griffin’s eyes started stretching and he could feel them expanding. There was a glimpse of light in the distance, getting brighter by the second and coherent thought returned. Griffin slowly returned to reality, recovering his rationality in the process. “Shit, I jumped into the crossover. I must’ve crossed into Hell, and without permission. There is nothing stopping the Demons from attacking me now. I am screwed … or maybe not. If I can just recover the soul and make a run for it.”

The scenery was clear. Griffin’s eyes had adjusted to the minimal light and he recognized where he was, at the Brim of Hell. Rocky cliffs expand into the horizon, forming a massive canyon in the middle, and above him Griffin could make out the dark walls of a cave. The light was coming from the vast emptiness at the centre of the canyon, it was the red light from the flames of Hell. Fear was released into Griffin’s thoughts again. But this time around he was in control, resisting its powerful hold, allowing himself to keep his focus and take advantage of the heightened senses that followed. Screams sounded in the distance and Griffin was able to discern the outline of souls forever falling into the pit of Hell, burning in torment. The torture Hell had judged those souls to, until they were ready to be reborn.

His scythe pulled down and a dull sound followed. The sound didn’t come from his scythe, it hadn’t touched the ground. Griffin jerked his head down and saw the Demon he was chasing. He was on his knees and Emma’s blade was through the front half of his neck. Griffin grabbed his scythe with both hands, placed a foot on the Demon’s back and leaned forward. He tightened his grip and kicked the Demon while pulling hard on his weapon. The blade tore through the neck, removing the Demon’s head. He quickly brought his scythe up and attempted to bury it in the Demon’s exposed neck, trying to damage the soul that resided in his chest and force him to stay inactive for as long as possible. The Demon imploded before Griffin’s weapon made contact, creating sparks as the blade hit the hard rocks beneath and ricocheted.

Griffin is able to inhale and exhale air, even though he never has the need to. It is completely irrational that he does this. Especially since he lacks all the necessary body parts for it. He is nothing more than bones wrapped in a black cloth, and he won’t die if he ever finds himself without air to breathe. But it is something that comes to him naturally, instinctively. He never could explain why he does this, or where he picked it up from either. As far as he knew, he could breathe ever since he first managed to gather essence and form the skeletal body he has to this day. His imagination leads him to believe he can do it and his mana allows him to do so without having the necessary components. Whenever he opened his mouth air was sucked into his empty chest. He could analyse the air he drew in, its temperature, its smell, even its taste, and it was that long intake of air after he had killed the Demon that almost scared the soul out of his chest.

The air had turned cold, an unusual deathly cold. The ground started to freeze, and he heard the cracking of ice forming instantly. The cavernous walls above him had formed stalactites in seconds. Even though the area around Griffin completely froze, the ice didn’t reach the Brim of Hell. It melted into water before going down the cliff and it evaporated as soon as it dribbled off the edge into the chaos below, forming a curtain of steam. Griffin knew that only one presence could freeze its surroundings as he had just witnessed. The Devil, previously an Archangel, Lucifer, the Lord of the underworld.

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