The Necrodancer

Chapter 11- Raced

 It did not take much longer to reach the doorstep of the apartment the man who they were visiting lived in. Carlisle knocked on the door and rang the bell simultaneously; Roux figured that either that was a special sort of knocking, like a code so the man knew who was visiting, or the demon was, as he had already proven himself to be, a dumbass.

The door, however, opened quite quickly, but only about two inches since the chain was still latched. "Carlisle Vanson?" the man whispered, eyes darting frantically around.

Carlisle tugged on Cicero's cardigan and pulled them to his side so the man could see his guest. "And Cicero Stemple."

The man nodded, sizing the reaper up. "Yeah, he mentioned something about another." He closed the door and unlatched the chain before letting the two beings in. Once they were inside, he closed and locked the door behind them.

"Cicero, this is Daren Millin. He works in the Vatican library as an archivist."

Daren crossed his arms. "So, here's how it's going to go. You two will do exactly as I say, and once I let you in, you find your own way out. Forrest just said you two may need a way in."

Cicero glared up at the demon. "You and Mr. Aingeal realize that I can literally just transport us in?"

Carlisle turned and stared down at them with wide eyes that screamed Why didn't I think of that before? He turned again to look at Daren. "I guess... we won't be requiring your services, Mr. Millin."

Daren scoffed. "Good. Less trouble for me. Now, scram."

The demon and reaper promptly left. "See," Carlisle sighed happily as they walked down the street again, "I knew it would be nice to have you around."

"Because I'm smarter than you," Cicero grumbled with a sly smirk.

Carlisle let out a defeated sigh. "Yes, because you're smarter than me."

Cicero smirked. "And older."

The demon's expression went blank. "And older," he grumbled.

"And better."

Carlisle nudged them in the shoulder. "Don't push it, reaper."

The reaper chuckled. "I guess you're not that bad."

They decided that they would sightsee during the day before they actually broke into the Vatican library that night. It didn't matter if they actually knew where it was because Cicero could just get them there through Purgatory. They would end up somewhere random in the library, of course, but they'd get there.

Carlisle had never been to Italy, so he was quite excited, but Cicero seemed even more excited. "Have you been here before?" he wondered.

The reaper shook their head. "I've only heard the stories about this place, about all of the bloodshed and about the Reaper Raids."

"Reaper Raids?"

Cicero nodded. "Yes. Because there was so much death, reapers from outside of Italy would have to come and help the Italian reapers clean up the messes left behind from battles and massacres. Well, the collection of souls kind of became a competition between the reapers of different countries, and there would be little wars of their own as they raced for souls."

Carlisle chuckled. "That sounds like a fun time. It reminds me of demons sometimes, fighting over a master."

Cicero frowned. "How do you mean?"

"Well, if there was a particularly famous soul, more than one demon would want to serve, so the demons would have to race to get to the soul first."

The reaper grinned. "Was there any competition for Forrest?"

Carlisle laughed. "No. To be quite frank, his soul isn't of the best quality."

"Why did you make a contract with him, then?"

"I'm hungry," the demon muttered bluntly.

That night, as planned, they transported from Purgatory right into the middle of the Vatican library. "Whoa," the two creatures breathed simultaneously. The high vaulted, ornately painted ceilings seemed to reach the heavens. The smooth marble floor reflected the paintings above with ease.

"All right, so, I suppose you start looking for whatever it is you're looking for here," Cicero whispered, "since I have no idea what you need."

Carlisle nodded. "Go to St. Peter's Necropolis and get a hair from the head of St. Peter, you know, from his tomb, and the chalice used by the Pope."

"Fine." The two vanished as they set off on their own quests. Cicero popped into the tomb of St. Peter. Getting in was no easy task, but they managed to pluck a clump of hair from his ancient carcass and got back up to the basilica to get the chalice of his Holiness.

When they got there, however, they sensed the overwhelming presence of the deaths of numerous children. They saw their souls drifting listlessly all around in the gigantic church, small, delicate, and broken, full of pain and sorrow.

Carlisle suddenly appeared next to them with a book appearing as ancient as St. Peter's body. "What is it?"

"Don't you see them all?" Cicero whispered with slightly tearing eyes. "Something happened here. The souls of these children... many children died here, and I don't know how."

"There must've been a massacre nearby," Carlisle whispered back as he put a comforting hand on their shoulder, not knowing what else to do. "They could be drawn to this place as they look for the way to Heaven. This is the holiest place they know." Cicero sighed as their cane turned into an electric bass. "What on Earth are you doing?" the demon hissed, confused by the fact that the scythe turned into a musical instrument and the fact that the reaper thought this would be useful for all of these souls.

"Shut up," Cicero breathed as they sat down on the ground, legs crossed, and began playing. The electric bass, though unplugged, reverberated through the walls. It was an eerie tune that resonated in Carlisle's bones. All of the souls froze in place. The reaper suddenly began singing in an otherworldly language. It sounded soothing but spine-chilling.

The demon watched as the souls of all different colours floated towards the reaper, who was now surrounded by their unearthly green aura. Once they reached Cicero, they were absorbed into their chest, leaving in a little flash of light. He watched with wide eyes and a dropped mouth, unable to hardly breathe. He'd never seen anything more beautiful and simultaneously heart-breaking.

By the end of the song, all of the souls were gone, the two only beings left in the basilica being Cicero, Carlisle, and, if you wanted to include them, God and Jesus Christ, which were quite the trio.

Cicero's scythe turned back into a cane as they struggled to their feet, but Carlisle held onto their arm to help them up.

"What was that?" he whispered.

"The language?" The demon nodded. "Obcasus," they answered. "It's the reaper language; of course, we rarely use it now that English is so widespread." Cicero stared up at the demon, who stared down at them with wide eyes and an unreadable expression. Cicero frowned. "What?" they grumbled.

Carlisle said nothing, only closed the distance between them, leaned down, grabbed their face, and pressed his lips against theirs. The reaper was frozen in shock as the demon wrapped his arms around the reaper and held them close, slightly lifting them off of their feet.

After they got over their shock, Cicero kneed him in the groin.