And the End - Objects in Mirror
Title: Objects in Mirror
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Part 4
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Meanwhile, at Alpha Omega House
Rebel souls / Deserters we are called / Chose a gun and threw away the sun
The doorbell rang screamed.
The screaming doorbell had been Bob's idea. Most of the cool ideas at Alpha Omega were.
No one got up to answer the door. Lazy assholes.
They were at one of the good parts of Caligula and three fourths of the way through a bottle of tequila. Everyone was in togas. Life should have been pretty sweet.
Bob was bored, bored, bored.
The doorbell rang again. Bob looked over his frat of minions. Wannabe assholes and would be date rape captains of non-industry.
Bored. Bored. Bored.
Bob walked over to the door and tried to enjoyed the feeling of his bare feet on the floor, but he could hardly feel it.
He opened the door. There was a wooden flying pig, splattered in blood and covered in Mixlitpoca symbols, in the doorway. Bob shook his head. "Cyndi, you have got to be fucking shitting me." He licked one of his fingers. It wasn't even human blood. Pathetic.
He walked back into the t.v. room. He said, "Since you're all about to die, I'm drinking the last of the tequila. Actually, I would've done that anyway."
Some Nimrod in the back of the room said, "What?" and the Mixlitpoca flew into the room. It was pretty funny the way the Mixi's practically slammed on the breaks when they saw him, while all these guys in togas started rolling off couches in a drunken keystone cop sort of way. Bob said, "Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to kill you or anything. I've just got a few things to wrap up and I'm blowing town."
He tossed the pig to the nimrod. Bob said, "Oh, wait, now I remember, I'm a liar." There was a sharp pop, and Alpha Omega burst into flames. "Oops," said Bob. "My bad."
He walked outside into the rain. He tilted his face up to the rain and listened to the sounds of screaming from inside the frat. Wasn't quite as good as the doorbell. The acoustics were terrible.
"You bastard." Cyndi appeared out of somewhere and hit with a wimpy ass stick. It broke, of course. Dumbass. She kept ranting on about this all being his fault or something and trying to hit him with the broken stick. He'd have been insulted if he'd been paying attention.
"Yeah, bitch. Kinda not." said Bob. He grabbed Cyndi's bony shoulders. "Personally, I thought if I showed you how to find the cave, you'd suck up to the professor, tell everyone, and start a cursed gold rush. But no, you had to start randomly whacking people."
"Don't touch me," Cyndi kicked at him.
"Oh, please," Bob rolled his eyes, "I'd rather saw off my dick with a plastic knife." He flicked his fingers against her forehead and walked away from the burnt smudge of what used to be Cyndi, whistling Stairway to Heaven.
~~~~~~
Still in the cave
Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'scoped this sorrow, / Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe; /Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, /
To linger out a purposed overthrow.
Halfway between sunset and sunrise, as middle of the night as Sam could figure with his battered Farmer's Almanac, Sam said, "It's time."
"Good." said Dean. He pulled the pink bucket out of his back pack and started filling it with holy water. He dumped in the fish that they'd bought earlier. He said, "So, why am I carrying the pink bucket?"
"No reason." said Sam. He put Libra candles, marked in felt pen with Aztec symbols, in a wide circle around the treasure. The Mixlitpocas were starting to fall off their perches and fly around the cavern. Their wings sparkled. "Dean hurry up."
"I am." said Dean. He opened a jar and let real butterflies out into the cave. A bird just been practical. Sam had the earthworms covered. There was plenty of those.
There. Transitional things. But right now, this moment, things that were what they were. A fish in water. Butterflies in flight. Worms in the earth and fire, well, the candles would have to do. Halfway between sunset and sunrise. They could take a chance on waiting until mid-day.
The Mixlitpoca were moving faster now. Right and left in the thin beams of light. In the soft light of the candles.
Sam felt tiny bodies brushing against him in the dark. Something scratched his ankle.
Dean said, "Hurry up Sam." Yeah. Yeah. Sam pulled out a piece of paper and held up his flashlight. What air Sam could see was churning with Mixlitpoca. There was another bite on his leg.
Sam recited the tongue twisted words of a Nuahatl prayer for balance and transition from the Borgia Codex. You could find what you were looking for when you knew what was going on.
Sam read faltering mispronounced words of this had better work words, while Dean pointed his light up and away into the moving mass around them. Sharp wings sliced at Sam's skin. The things were everywhere.
The cavern boomed as Dean let off a shot with the shotgun and they backed off for a moment, then swirled back forward. Faster. Thousands of tiny cutting wings and teeth. Low growling noises echoing off the cave walls.
Sam tried not to read faster. He just needed to read done.
Then he was and everything sort of paused.
There was a clattering of stone on stone as the Mixlitpoca fell. Thank God. Sam had been ready to move on to Ecclesiastes if that hadn't worked. At least he knew Latin.
Sam looked at Dean. There were red scratches on his face. They were alive. Dean walked with loud crunches over to his back pack and pulled out the second half of their plan.
Dynamite and a really long primer cord. The gold was still cursed.
Dean said, "I've been saving this for a rainy day." He ground another Mixlitpoca under his boot.
Sam said, "Come on," and began the climb back out of the cave.
Wow, Dean had been planning for a seriously rainy day. That was a lot of chord.
They got to the cave entrance. It had stopped raining. The moon was out.
Sam said, "Jerk."
Dean said, "Cank."
The lit the chord and took off running down the moonlit hillside.
Halfway down, the earth shook under their feet with a distant echo of thunder.
They ran some more.
It was a beautiful night.
~~~~~~~
Dawn Diner
Girl I'm hot blooded, check it and see / I got a fever of 103 / Come on baby, do you do more then dance /I'm hot blooded, I'm hot blooded
Bob sat in the diner and ordered a steak, well done. He snarled at it. It was still pink. He wanted it burnt to a crisp. He wanted char. His toga was filthy. Not filthy enough. He wanted to wallow in filth. Eat some kittens and maybe a baby duck. Be really fucking demonic. Dammit.
Someone spun around the table, tripped and fell to the floor. "Quick, who am I? I've fallen and I can't get up." Raphael stood up. "Get it? Get it?" Raphael's cheerful round face leaned towards him. "It's you." Raphael sat down opposite him. "So, Bub how are you today, or is it Beelze right now?"
Bob, Bub, Beelzebub, Lord of Flies and stuff, said, "Raphael, it wasn't funny the first nine billion times you told that joke to every single one of us. It's not funny now. I am so not in the mood." Bob looked over at his angelic brother's ratty brown coat, "Or are you going by Azariah today? You hear to kick my ass? Again."
"That's more Michael's gig. He's big with the smiting. And the germophobia." Raphael reached across Bob's plate and picked up a french fry. "But you did just kill a houseful of people. So, I'm just going to have to eat your fries."
"Fuck you. Oh, I forgot, you can't. Dad didn't give you that equipment." Bob stuck out his tongue at his not-un-brother, and felt, okay, better. It wasn't really in his nature to stay pissed. Brood. Life was too much fun.
Raphael salted the french fry in his hand and ate it. He said, "So, I'm curious, why did you help the Winchesters?"
"Maybe I have plans for them." Bob nodded and started to draw an undead Munch's Scream on his steak with ketchup and mustard.
"Hmm," said Raphael. He ate another fry. "These are pretty good."
Bob got up and grabbed all the ketchup bottles from the every table in the diner. Assembled them in an army of ketchup. Glared at Raphael from behind them. "Well, I could!"
Raphael smiled cheerfully around a mouthful of Bob's golden and delicious fries. He got and put the ketchup bottles back on the empty tables. He said, "That's important. Think positive." sat down and took another fry.
"Okay. Fine! I don't have evil world dominating plans!" Bob grabbed the fry out of Raphael's hand and ate his own damn fry. He said, "I had these great plans for some nice local evil. It was going to be awesome. Sierra Madre awesome. Crazy bitch." Bob ate a bite of steak. All ketchup and mustard and charred meat and wide open mouthed talking, "When they showed, up, I was just going to screw around with them, but," Bob swallowed his meat. "I wonder if I could get them into a three-way. That would be cool." He looked at Raphael, "So, since you're here, I'm guessing Heaven's got plans for them?"
"Not that I know of. Well, our Creator could. Does. What with the ineffable plan for everyone, but he hasn't told me. I just thought people could use a friendly face. Which he probably planned. Hmm." Raphael smiled up at the approaching waitress, "I'd like what he's having, medium rare, with a side of ranch. Thanks."
The waitress walked away kinda smiling and dazed.
Bob said, "Dude, turn down the angelic vibe. And stop eating my fries." and whacked Raphael's reaching hand with his fork.
Raphael leaned back in his chair. "Okay. I'd be nice if you turn down your evil."
"Yeah, like that's gunna happen." Bob said, "Although, no more plans. I was always better at just having a good time." He poured ketchup in a protective coating all over his fries and grinned at Raphael, "And I did have a very good time. I could show you." He popped a fry in his mouth. "I could be the guy.." He smeared the steak Screams face with a finger and then licked it. " I can be flexible. I could even be the girl." Bob shook his head and tossed shiny blond curls and suddenly, what with the ginormous breasts, the toga, damn indecent. "Wait, I forgot. Still no equipment."
Raphael rolled his eyes and handed Bob his jacket. Raphael said, "So, have you heard the one about the Thai monks and the Santa Fe punks?"
~~~~~~
Kokopelli Motel – Vacancy
Off through the new day’s mist I run / Off from the new day’s mist I have come
I hunt /Therefore I am
Dean sat at the table of their hotel, too wired to crash. Fiddled with the EMF. This new transistor was going to rock. He said, "I'm out of ideas." He gentle snapped an into an out. "Her apartment's empty." Spliced the electrical feed. "She's not in the professor's office." Crimped a wire down. "No one's heard from her." A little tape. A little glue. Spun a tiny assed screw into place. "Cyndi could've skipped town?"
"Could be," said Sam." He sat on the bed looking through Dad's journal. He said, "You know Dean, this whole thing has got me thinking."
Oh, God no. Shoot me now. Dean said, "Want some breakfast?"
Sam opened his mouth. Closed it. Smiled and said, "Okay."
Thank God. Dean was starving.
~~~~
Fade to Black
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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Footnotes
Yes, as you may have guessed, I am the girl in the coffee shop. I do in fact have a seventy odd page set of notes for a novel that I'm sporadically working on. Out, out, damn words. And thus the villains that we got in this story. I didn't want to do any research. But, wait, I already had.
I ended up tweaking things slightly since that Itzpapalotl was the Aztec goddess of childbirth, as well as the Mixi's patron thingy. Although, the Mixi's, well, weren't so much failed soldiers as really successful ones. But this worked better for my story.
The Aztecs (and a few of the other Meso Americans) were really into the whole concept of opposites. Thus plumed serpent, smoking mirror, pyramids with "caves" in the top, etc.
As to Raphael, in the "Book of Tobit," he appears as a guy named Azariah who guides the main character on a journey through the desert. They go fishing, which is why I really wanted some fish in the story, and fight a demon with fish parts. Its all very...okay, so I had a bit of crush on Raphael after reading R. A. MacAvoy's "Raphael." After that, every story he shows up in, he's always really nice and friendly and kinda sweet and...he heals people. He sings. Heck, I wrote book of Tobit fanfic for yuletide. Go read it and you may be like the third person to see it.
As to "Requiem for the Devil," it's a wonderful book that very few people have read. Those people should go read it. I read it about once a year. It's a love story. Lucifer is working as a political analyst in D.C., goes into a bar, hears this woman singing and falls in love, which you know, he's evil, so not really a good thing. Its sharp, witty, with a great set of historical/literary references.