Chapter Four: The Epitome of Evil
I limped towards closest "exit" sign, pushed the door open, and hobbled down the fire escape. My priority was finding Rocky. I had to ensure the toque man hadn't followed him...and that the sniper wasn't still haunting the rooftops.
The fire escape didn't reach the ground; rather, it opened onto a flat cement patch still several stories high. There were ladders, but I chose instead to approach the edge crawling on my stomach, only leaning out far enough to see the dark alley below.
Rocky and his boys were climbing into a car, an unmarked car, escorted by the men in suits.
The situation screamed trouble. I would never have trusted a man in a suit telling me to enter a car in a back alley of London.
But Rocky was doing just that.
Was he stupid?
No, he's a celebrity, said my little inner voice. He's used to this life, being waited on, escorted...people pampering him, fawning over him, rushing around on his every whim. People he's never had reason to question...to distrust…
Oh, but Rocky...trust is such a dangerous thing!
I watched Rocky roll down his window and shout something to one of the men outside. The car started, and the back of my neck began to itch.
Something was amiss. I squinted.
The driver. The driver was…
BANG!
I flattened against the rooftop. The bullet grazed the back of my neck, imbedding in the concrete only inches from my face. I turned onto my back, my arm colliding with that of the man in front of me.
It was the gray toque man. "Only room for one on this roof, Tessa."
I sat up. Too quickly. Pain shot through my leg, and I gritted my teeth. "Well, I was here first."
"You can leave first, too."
The man's fist sailed towards me, but I caught it in my palm. The angle was awkward. I began to sweat.
The toque man noticed. "What's wrong, Tessa? You're out of shape. City life made you weak?"
"Go away, toque man." I squeezed, and heard cracking under my hand.
The man hissed and pulled away, his voice laced with poison. "Toque man, Tessa? Has it been so long?"
His other arm came flying, and I ducked, kicking my good leg in an arc in front of me. The man's ankles bent, and he fell backwards. I stepped on his abdomen, compressing the solar plexus. He groaned.
"What do you want?"
Silence.
I pressed a little harder, and the man gasped.
"Y...y...you."
"Why did you fire those shots?"
"Y-you."
"Why are you following me?"
"L-looking...for...for y-you a-a-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH"!
I kicked him in the groin. "Give me a straight answer! Who are you? What do you want? How do you know who I am? Are you following Rocky?"
The toque man began to chuckle. "You really have no idea…"
"Why does everyone keep telling me that?"
"Only Pepito."
"Well, yes, but - wait, how…?"
"You don't recognise me." The man reached up and pulled off his toque.
My heart dropped.
"...R-Raphael?" I stuttered (me! Stuttering!).
"Archangel Raphael, to you."
"But...you're here! You've...you're Rogue?"
"No, I'm free."
"You left the Pack? But..."
"Oh, please, you're one to talk."
"But...but I had Fallen! I failed my Trial. I had to leave. I wasn't any use to anyone!"
Raphael smirked. "You didn't fail, Teresa. I just didn't let you pass."
"...wha -?"
My back hit the ground, my bad leg falling at an awkward angle. Raphael now stood over me, his foot on my chest, a smirk on his lips.
"Lights out, Tessa." His fist swung towards my face, but, this time, I couldn't duck.
When my eyes opened, the darkness remained, even after I had blinked a few times. I tried move, but found I couldn't.
Am I paralysed? Am I blind? Was I hurt? What happened to my back? Did Raphael…?
A shudder crept through my body, and I felt rope scratch against my wrists.
No, not paralysed, I realised. I was tied to something. A pole, maybe, or the back of a chair. I couldn't tell. My legs were numb, and I was disoriented and cold. My hair had fallen out of its bun; I could feel the cold, wet strands dangling in my face.
Clack….clack...clack…
The back of my neck itched. Trouble was coming.
Click, clack, click, clack, click, clack…
The air around me began to shake, and dust particles flew into my face.
CHUGGA-CHUGGA-clack-clack-CHUGGA-CHUGGA-WHIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!
I flinched, my cry engulfed by the clattering cacophony. It was a train.
The rattles and rumbles subsided as quickly as they came, and I became conscious of my shaking body.
"Frightened of the choo-choo, Tessa? You never did like loud noises. Even as a child."
It was a voice I wouldn’t forget, now that I knew he, too, dwelt in this world.
"Raphael. Aren't train tracks a bit cliché? Even for you?"
"Tsk, tsk." I could feel Raphael's smirk through the darkness. "These aren't train tracks, Tessa. We're in the catacombs beneath the London Underground. Abandoned tunnels. No one comes down here anymore."
I gritted my teeth. "Where's Rocky?"
"Rocky? Yes, I suppose it is. Rather cold and damp, too."
I strained against the ropes, and they dug into my skin. "No, you twit, Rocky! The boy! What have you done with him?"
Raphael chuckled. "Ah, Tessa, I have done nothing to that boy. But my friend here…well, that's another matter."
A dim torch light shone in front of me, and I saw two silhouettes. Raphael's was unpleasantly familiar, but the second shadow was not one I remembered from my childhood.
"Lu? A little more light, if you don't mind."
The entire tunnel was illuminated, but my eyes could only focus on the new face in front of me. He was the cabbie who had kidnapped Rocky. The Tawny Barn Owl from the night I had met Pepito. A man of many colours, many disguises. His outstretched palm rested inches from my face, and I could see the outline of the Watchers' crescent.
"Tessa, I'd like you to meet Archangel Lucifer. Lu, this is our Fallen Rogue Teresa."
Archangel Lucifer? Shivers ran down my spine. Not from the cold.
"Ah, you've heard of me, Tessa?" Lucifer twirled his moustache, eying my face. "I am honoured."
"You're a monster," I whispered. "You're no Watcher."
"Actually, I am a Watcher," said Lucifer. "Full privileges and authority. No one in the Pack has had the guts to kick me out as yet. As for a monster, well, the legends stand. In both this world and ours." He picked his nails. "I try to stay humble."
I knew my eyes were bulging from their sockets. If "Tessa" were synonymous with "failure", then Lucifer was the epitome of villainy. He was a notorious Machiavellian, and a ruthless ethic. If he wanted Rocky dead, any opposition would be futile. Rumours on the street, even among humans, linked Lucifer with bloody murders, mysterious kidnappings, and dastardly crimes.
But I had to get out of here. I had to try. I couldn’t let myself die here, at the hands of the devil, already buried beneath the earth. It was suicide, but I owed it to myself to try. Perhaps that would be my retribution. My redemption. I wiggled my leg, feeling the ropes loosen slightly. An unconscious body weighs more than a fighting one.
Lucifer noticed the movement, but he misunderstood the intent. "Ah, yes, your leg. Excellent tool, isn't it, that sniper rifle? Things are so much more advanced these days! Better for killing. So much power in one tiny bullet. No messy spear and swords. And it makes such a beautiful sound, too! Swit, swit, dead! Imagine, Tessa! The power! To hold life and death in your hands…."
"Ah." I wrenched my body away
from the pole, breaking a few stubborn strands in the process, my pocket knife clenched in my hands. A swift upward kick knocked Lucifer back, unconscious. Clearly his tenure as a sniping guru hadn't helped his fighting skills. I turned around, only to see Raphael running down the tunnel.
Coward.