The Northridge School For Boys 

Daimon Hellstrom stood with his trident in hands. His sister, Satana, was by his side, hellfire pooling in the palms of her hands. And sitting in front of them was a young boy with dark hair, a devilish smile on his face.

Though he bore the appearance of a boy, the dark soul that inhabited this body was an ageless demon called Marduk Kurios. And father to both Hellstorm and Satana.

“You played me,” said Daimon, his eyes burning with hellfire. “You always wanted me to kill you, to claim the Black Halo. Because you had plans of your own.”

“Indeed I did,” said Marduk. “With the help of a little angel on my shoulder.”

“Why?” asked Satana. “Working with angels? For what?”

“Zadkiel has his reasons, of which I care little,” said Marduk. “But when the dark soul of each Hellspawn falls, my strength grows.”

“And once you’ve killed us all? Then what?” asked Daimon. “What’s your endgame, father?”

“Hell is in chaos, ‘Father,’” he said with a chuckle. “Different factions, different Hell Lords, all of them locked in an eternal power struggle with each other. Mephisto, Satannish, Thog, Asmodeus, Beelzeboul, Olivier—nothing but children fighting over small tracts of land. No, what I desire is more. The alliance with Zadkiel will allow me to do just that.”

“Not while I draw breath,” said Daimon, the tips of his trident beginning to burn with the same hellfire in his eyes.

“Ah-ah, not so fast,” said Marduk with a wag of his finger. “Did you truly believe I would allow you to come all this way, to get this close, if I didn’t have a plan? You should know better than that, Daimon.”

“What are you talking about?”

Marduk held out his hand and in his palm, a burst of flame appeared. Daimon stared into the fire, watching as it took shape. He saw a man with one eye and dark hair, a streak of white in the center. A man Daimon had tried to help, but who awoke from his coma and kidnapped Daimon’s lover, Jaine Cutter.

“Gabriel Rosetti,” said Daimon.

“Not just him. Keep watching.”

Daimon watched the flames change and now saw Jaine was bound at Rosetti’s feet. The Breathing Gun, a weapon capable of killing demons, was in his hand. But then the image expanded and Daimon’s eyes widened at the sight of another woman, this one dressed in a yellow, form-fitting costume with a blue mask.

“Patsy…”

Patsy Walker, the Hellcat. Also known as Daimon’s ex-wife.

“Dear Gabriel has been treating them kindly up until now,” said Marduk. “But now I fear their lives are in mortal danger. I’ve dropped the spell hiding him from your sight. If you use the Black Halo, you can stop him before he kills two more Hellspawn for me.”

“Daimon, don’t you fucking dare leave me—” said Satana.

But it was too late. Hellstorm raised his trident and slammed it on the ground, a circle of flames forming beneath him and rising up. When they faded, Daimon Hellstrom was gone.

“Shit.”

“What is that phrase many of your clients like to use?” asked Marduk and then cackled. “Ah, yes. Daddy’s home.”

HELL’S ANGELS

Part IV

By Dino Pollard

The Sanctum Sanctorum

An odd collection of heroes gathered in the Greenwich Village home of Doctor Strange. Valkyrie, Starlight, and the Devil-Slayer were regular members of the Defenders. They were joined by Nighthawk, who recently returned to the team following his unexpected transformation into a demonic creature. In addition were former Defenders, the Ghost Rider and Gargoyle.

“This is insanity,” said Nighthawk. “Heaven and Hell are prepared to go to war with each other, and Strange wants to invite them over for tea and crumpets?”

“What other choice do we have, Kyle?” asked Gargoyle.

“How about fighting?” asked Nighthawk. “Not like it’s the first time we took on something this big, or am I the only one who remembers the Six-Fingered Hand?”

“That was just Hell, this also means Heaven is involved, too,” said Gargoyle. “We’ve placed our trust in Stephen in the past, why should now be any different?”

“Isaac Christians speaks the truth, friend Kyle,” said the Valkyrie.

“Never thought I’d see the day when you back down from a fight, Val,” said Nighthawk.

“Brunnhilde will fight—and die—if that be her fate,” said Valkyrie. “Yet if we have a chance to avert cataclysm, should we not pursue it?”

“Be smart, Kyle,” said Starlight. “The red Hulk was one of our most powerful members. He took on gods. And yet Zadkiel was powerful enough to kill him without much effort.”

“I’m all for being smart, but I don’t see how this fits the bill,” said Nighthawk.

“Richmond has a point,” said the Devil-Slayer. “Let’s not forget that this idea comes from Mephisto. Is that someone we can really trust?”

“One of us knows Mephisto better than anyone,” said Nighthawk, his eyes turning to the Ghost Rider. “How about it, GR? What do you think?”

The Ghost Rider had remained separate from the rest of the group, examining the mystic relics in the sitting room where they waited for Strange to complete his contacts. He turned his flaming skull, hollow eyes taking in the gathered Defenders.

“Payne is correct, Mephisto can’t be trusted,” he finally said. “But he is also an opportunist. Even if the forces of Hell were united, it’s questionable if they could withstand a full assault from the Asura. But Hell is a divided wasteland with various demons all vying for power. Should the Asura strike, the different realms would fall. Mephisto would do whatever it takes to prevent that from happening, even if it means allying himself with the likes of us.”

“Thank you for the summary, Zarathos.”

All eyes now turned to the new voice as they saw Doctor Stephen Strange enter the room, hovering above the ground. The Cloak of Levitation flowed around him of its own accord.

“Representatives of both Heaven and Hell have agreed to meet here,” said Doctor Strange. “If we can convince them of Zadkiel’s plot, then we just might have an opportunity to avert an apocalyptic war.”

Fire Lake

Gabriel Rosetti, the Devil-Hunter. In his hand was the Breathing Gun, one of only two in existence. A weapon capable of wounding or even killing powerful demons. He was dressed only in a pair of pants and a scar of the cross was had been burnt into his chest. Normally he wore an eyepatch to cover his missing right eye, but no longer. Both the cross and the empty socket burned with mystic fire.

“This is it…” muttered Rosetti, rubbing his face and twitching. At his feet, two women were bound by heavy, iron chains.

One was Jaine Cutter. She’d been a captive of Rosetti for months now. Kept mostly unconscious during that time. The other wore a yellow and blue costume. Her name was Patsy Walker, also called Hellcat, and she just woke.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“Fire Lake,” said Jaine. “Hellcat, right? Like the name. Not so sure about the look.”

“Who are you?” asked Hellcat.

“Jaine Cutter,” she said. “You and I have something in common—we both fucked Daimon Hellstrom.”

Hellcat rolled her eyes. “Great, I’m getting dragged into another one of Daimon’s psychotic adventures…”

“He’ll come,” said Rosetti. “This is where it ends. The same place where it began.”

“What happened to you, Gabe?” asked Jaine. “Daimon purged the Sacrament K from your system, left you in Isaac’s care. So why—?”

Rosetti slapped Jaine with the gun. “Silence! Whore of Babylon!”

Jaine spat blood at his feet and glared at the Devil-Hunter. “Big man with a big gun. Take off these shackles and we’ll see how tough you really are.”

“That won’t be necessary, Jaine.”

The room brightened with the presence of a column of hellfire. It quickly receded, and Hellstorm stood in the center of the room, trident in his hand. His eyes burned as he stared at his old enemy.

“Hellstrom, finally!” said Gabriel, turning the Breathing Gun on his enemy. He pulled the trigger, the sentient bullets literally screaming as they tore through the air. Hellstorm deflected most of the bullets, but one of them tagged his leg and he had to use his trident to keep himself from stumbling to the ground.

“Great, have to sit here and watch while Daimon gets himself killed…” muttered Jaine.

“Maybe not,” said Hellcat.

“I can’t summon my second skin while being shackled by these iron chains, honey.”

“No, but maybe that’s not what it’s about.” Hellcat flexed her fingers and retractable claws emerged from her glove’s fingertips. She worked one of the claws into the keyhole on the iron lock. It popped open and Hellcat smiled.

“Y’know, I should probably hate you, what with you being Daimon’s ex and all, but I think I wanna kiss you,” said Jaine.

“Thanks, but I’d rather get these chains off you, then gloat once we bail Daimon’s ass out of the fire.”

Satana screamed as her own eldritch bolts were redirected upon her by her father. Marduk calmly walked towards her, and waved his hand. The ground started to split, leaving Satana standing on either side of a growing chasm. He raised his hand up and tentacles rose up from the chasm, wrapping around Satana’s arms and legs and hefting her into the air.

“Dear, dear Satana,” said Marduk, clicking his tongue. “Are you really willing to die for your brother? Especially after he abandoned you to my tender mercies?”

“J-just gimme a minute to get free…” muttered Satana.

“Or perhaps, we could try something else,” said Marduk.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve always been my favorite, you know. There’s too much of Daimon’s mother in him. Too much humanity. And it’s a shame, I had such hopes for him.”

Marduk shook his head, but then looked at Satana and smiled. “But then there’s you. I raised you myself. Taught you everything you know about magic. You’ve always been daddy’s little girl.”

Marduk snapped his fingers and the tentacles released his daughter, retreating back into the chasm, which then magically closed as if it had never been there. He stepped closer and offered his tiny hand to Satana.

“If Zadkiel is successful, I’ll be the supreme ruler of Hell. The other Hell Lords will be no more. But you could get your own little corner. A domain of your own, for you to do with as you will. You could have the kingdom Damian stole from you. Your birthright. What do you say?”

Satana thought about it. If she fought back, she’d be dead. And Marduk had a point. Why should she throw her life away for her ungrateful brother? Those bitches were more important to him than she was, so to hell with him.

“I say let’s do this thing,” she said.

The Sanctum Sanctorum

Doctor Strange sat with his hand holding up his forehead, a look of exasperation on his face. The rest of the Defender stood behind him. Strange sat at one end of a massive table. On the left were members of the Infernal Court, the ruling powers of Hell. And on the right, the Council of Thrones, those who ruled Heaven.

They arrived not too long ago. As soon as they were seated, they began arguing, shouting insults at one another. They hadn’t stopped since.

“Still think this was a good idea, Doc?” asked Nighthawk.

“It’s a pity Dr. Banner isn’t here,” said the Gargoyle. “A little ‘Hulk Smash’ might get them to be quiet for a few moments.”

“I’ve had enough,” said Strange, standing from his chair. He closed his eyes and formed a triangle with his thumbs and index fingers. Strange moved his hands in deliberate motions and the amulet around his neck opened, revealing a glowing, golden eye. “The power of Agamotto commands you to be silent!”

The Eye of Agamotto emitted a bright, blinding light that flooded the room. The angels and demons alike grew quiet and all looked at Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme.

“We face an unprecedented situation,” said Strange. “The Potentate was dispatched on Earth, as was the supernatural Punisher. Both of these were weapons of Heaven. To add insult to injury, one of our allies was slain by an archangel.”

“You make serious accusations, sorcerer,” said Arcturus, rising from his seat. “What possible reason would the Council of Thrones have to unleash these weapons? Unlike the Infernal Court, the Council honors the agreements. No move may be made against the other side before the trumpets of the Apocalypse are sounded.”

“Do you really think we’re stupid enough to believe you, Arcturus?” asked Mephisto, rising as well and leaning over the table. “The Knights of Hell are being targeted. My daughter was targeted!”

“Perhaps she simply pissed off the wrong person?” asked Arcturus.

“Watch yourself, brother,” said Lucifer. “Mephisto isn’t one to sit back in the face of such slurs.”

“We need not resort to violence,” said Armaziel. “Stephen Strange, what you say is simply not possible. There is no way for the Asura to act without permission from the Council of Thrones. This is something I assure you.”

Fire Lake

Freed from the iron shackles, Jaine’s second skin grew over her body. Constructed from minerals that came from the River Styx, it made her virtually invulnerable and transformed her hands into razor-sharp talons.

Jaine tackled Rosetti from behind, wrestling with him on the ground. Rosetti struggled against her and fired the Breathing Gun. Jaine screeched and pulled away. Gabriel got to his feet, only to have his back torn to shreds by Hellcat’s claws.

“Don’t forget me, big guy!”

Jaine recovered almost instantly and joined Hellcat in tearing Rosetti apart. As Hellstorm stood there and watched, he was both in awe and also horrified. Patsy Walker was his former wife, Jaine Cutter his current consort. Now they were working together, tearing a man apart with their bare hands.

He made a mental note to do whatever possible to make sure they never met again. It likely wouldn’t end well for him.

“I think that will do, ladies,” said Hellstorm.

The two women backed away, leaving Rosetti bruised and bloody on the ground, but still alive. Hellstorm walked up to his enemy and raised the trident above his head.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel. I tried to help you,” said Hellstorm. “But you were just too damn stubborn.”

Hellstorm drove the trident into Gabriel’s chest. From the cross and his eye, blue, ethereal fire exploded out, soaring back up to the heavens. Once the fire was gone, Gabriel’s body turned cold and lifeless. Hellstorm sighed and moved away, leaning against the wall.

“So?” asked Patsy, walking up to her ex-husband. “You want to tell me how I got sucked back into your crazy?”

Daimon produced a cigarette from his trench coat and lit it with the tip of his finger. He took a long drag on it and exhaled slowly. “Just give me a moment, Patsy.”

“Nah, she’s got a point, Daimon. What the hell’s going on?” asked Jaine.

“The Asura, Heaven’s warriors, have chosen to target the Knights of Hell,” said Daimon. “That would mean both of you, as well as myself and Isaac, John Blaze, Kyle Richmond, Eric Payne, and my sister.”

“Since when am I a ‘Knight of Hell’?” asked Patsy.

“It’s destiny, Patsy,” said Daimon.

“So what happens n—” Jaine was about to ask, when the pentagram on Daimon’s chest started to burn brightly. “Umm…what’s that mean?”

“Something’s happening,” said Daimon. “We have to get to Strange, now!”

Sanctum Sanctorum

A column of fire appeared right outside the Sanctum Sanctorum. The flames subsided and Hellstorm, Hellcat, and Jaine now stood in front of Doctor Strange’s home. But before they could enter the house, a shadow fell over them.

“It’s too late…they’ve come…” said Hellstorm.

Up in the sky, an army of archangels, with Angela at the fore, descended from Heaven, their numbers so great that they blocked out the sun.

To be concluded…