The Seven

The Year is 2007. It is a cool fall day in Manhattan. The leaves decorate the trees in a vivid tapestry of reds, oranges, and browns. The streets buzz with sounds of people. Yes, this is a spectacular day indeed. Alas, even in the most peaceful of times, chaos lurks like a dark cloud, ever-looming, to cast its shadow.

A gust of wind blows by a hospital. Inside it, a woman fights to give birth to her second child. Her head is pounding, she can barely hear the doctor or nurse, and the pain steadily pushes the limits of her threshold. However, she endures. She focuses only on each breath that draws closer to a new life’s arrival. Her attention is pulled to by the doctor’s voice. “Okay, Angela, when I tell you to push I need you to push as hard as you can, ok?” She nods and follows the doctor’s request and pushes as hard as she can. As she catches her breath, the doctor shouts, “Puuuuuuussshhh!”

Her teeth clench as her agony intensifies with each try. She looks to her left, vision blurry from the pain, and reaches out her hand. Her hand closes tightly as if her lover’s hand was there to grasp. She’s snapped back to the matter at hand. “Puuuuuuussshhh!” the doctor shouts again. Angela screams as she pushes with all her might. The baby’s head starts to crown. The nurse wipes Angela’s head with a damp cloth while saying, “Almost there dear. You’re doing a wonderful job.” The process continues until finally the room fills with boisterous echoes of a newborn’s cries.

“It’s a boy.” the doctor says as a smile brushes his face. He then cuts the umbilical cord and hands the newborn to the nurse. With a blanket draped over her hands and forearms, she wraps the baby up. She turns to Angela. “Want to hold him?” the nurse says. Too tuckered out to talk, yet too excited to let the chance pass, Angela nods. The nurse gently passes the whining baby to his exhausted mother.

When placed into his mother’s embrace, the cries from the boy subside. It’s as if he knew that he was in loving arms. Starring at the little bundle she had made, the pains and exhaustion Angela felt were replaced by warmth, love, and an almost glowing smile. “Hi there.” she says proudly, “I’m your mommy.” She kisses her baby on the forehead and softly proclaims, “I love you.”

With a happy grin the nurse asks Angela, “So do you have a name yet?” Angela looks up at the doctor with the smile that never left and responds, “Julian…Julian Markus Jones.” “I love it!”, the nurse exclaims. The doctor nods in agreement saying, “A strong name indeed.” He then opens up the door. The nurse walks out waving speaking words of good wishes.

The doctor turns back to Angela and speaks. “Well, I think Julian looks healthy enough to stay with you for a while. We’ll let you two rest and bring Mya in when you’ve gained a little more of your strength.” Angela answers. “Thank you.” The doctor takes his leave, shutting the door behind him. Julian slowly falls asleep in Angela’s arms. Angela, who after the day’s events, also prepares for a well-deserved nap. However, right as she began to shut her shimmering, hazel eyes, she sensed something enters the hospital.

It was a presence. A familiar, terrifying presence that she had not felt in a year. She knew exactly who it was, and all too well, what they had come for. She stares at Julian and then whispers into his tiny ear, “I wish we could’ve spent just a little more time together my love, but I will always love you.” Tears run down Angela’s cheeks as she kisses her son on the forehead once more. She then tells him with determination in her eyes, “I’ll keep you safe.” With an extra blanket, she wraps and places Julian under her bed. The cold of the floor sends Julian into an all-out shrill scream. Unaffected, Angela closes her eyes and interlocks her hands. With what energy she can muster, she generates a white aura that begins to circle around her. Her eyes open and a glowing white engulfs her hazel eyes. Her long, curly, black hair begins to slowly grey. Her beautiful brown skin rapidly ages. Her irises change from their shiny, hazel color to a dim brown. With a soft burst, Julian, as well as his cries for his mother, vanishes from beneath the bed. In the voice of an old woman, Angela softly proclaims to herself, “At any cost.” She unlocks her hands and the aura dissipates. She lays back and quietly watches the door, patiently waiting for a very unwanted visitor.

Down in the lobby, a tall, mysterious man enters. He wears a long, tattered duster, a black button-up shirt with silver trim, and a dusty, black gallon hat, with wolf head tassels. His eyes are hidden by jet-black glasses. He has a grin, almost sinister, that never seems to leave his face. His medium-dark brown hair and even his thick, chop-like sideburns run wild. His black leather pants drape over his brown, cowhide boots with silver toes and spur that tap and hiss as he walks towards the reception desk.

“Hello.” the receptionist says in a chipper voice to the man, as he makes it to the desk. The man flirtingly replies, “Well hello there beautiful.” His voice was scratchy and rough with a southern accent. “I’m looking for someone and I’d reckon you could help me.” The receptionist, unaware of just who she was talking to, blushingly answers, “Why sure. What’s their name?” The man replies, “Angela Favor. Yup, I’m her brother. She might go by a different last name though. I’m not for sure, myself.” The receptionist beams at her screen. “Hmmm, I’m not seeing any Favors. What department is she in?” The man looks up, with the evil intent in his hidden eyes, turns to her, and simply replies, “Maternity.” The keys on the computer click from the keystrokes of the receptionist. She searches through the databank. “I have an Angela Jones if that’s who you’re looking for?” “Jones! How silly of me. I forgot she done went on and got married on me.” He leans in. “Yeah me and the husband don’t really, hahaha, see eye to eye, if you catch my drift.” The woman replies, “I completely understand. I have a brother and…humph…Well, you can find your sister in room 546.” “Thanks, Darlin’. You have been mighty kind. Maybe later, we can talk dinner.” The man responses. The receptionist nods, blushingly, and the man heads towards the already expecting Angela’s room.

Silence surrounds the mother’s room, as she waits. Her eyes are heavy and her body is weak from the power she spent. Still, her eyes fix on the door. The dark presence she had felt grows closer and closer until a shadow appears in front of the door. The door opens to the grinning man. “Well hello there Angie! Miss me?!” He says in a sadistically happy voice. Angela replies in disgust, “Azazel. I should’ve known he’d send you.” “Aww is that all I get after a year of no talking to?” Azazel snickers as he shuts the door and walks towards the bedded old woman.

“No writing. Hell, not even a phone call. You would think I’d at least get a warm welcome. If it wasn’t for your little bundle of joy weakening that field of yours, we would’ve never found you.” He stops at the foot of the bed, getting a closer look at the powerless Angela. “Good heavens, Darlin. Childbirth must’ve really done a number on ya. Why you used to be a real looker. Now look at…” Angela’s words lash as she interrupts. “ Why don’t you just go back to the heel of your master‘s boot like a good little dog?” Azazel releases a sick laugh, “Ha! Ha! Ha, a dog am I?! Aww I’ve missed you, Angie. That sharp tongue of yours always tickled me in a happy place.” His ear-to-ear cackle eases back to a smooth grin. “Oh, how I wish we could continue this little heartfelt reunion, Darlin’, but you have something I’ve been sent to acquire, and I aim not to come back empty-handed.”

Angela’s heartbeat starts to slow down, and she begins to weaken even further. She feels it, but she refuses to let Azazel see. She says, “You will never find what you’re looking for. When Markus gets here you’ll be nothing more than ashes and a cruel memory that will easily fade from our thoughts.” Azazel burst into an even louder laugh, this time, tilting his head up towards the ceiling. “Hahahahahahahaha!” He uses his right hand to reposition his glasses and directs his sight back to Angela. Then he leans in close. In a low evil voice, Azazel boasts. “Aww, don’t you worry your little head there Darling. I’ll find them the same way we found you Beautiful…Well not so beautiful anymore.” He giggles as he pulls out a necklace with a crimson stone pendent and shows it to Angela.

He backs up, turns, and says, “Now while I would take personal satisfaction out of slaughtering you, my methods for you are a little too “messy” for the occasion. But from the looks of it, you’ll be worm food very soon enough anyway, so job well done to me. Guess that essence was some serious stuff, huh?” He walks to the door spinning the pendent necklace. “Oh, though I will not be taking the pleasure of painting this room with you today, I will leave you with some excitingly unfortunate news.” He grabs the knob of the door and turns his attention to Angela. He tilts his glasses down revealing his devilishly red, glowing irises, and says in a low, chilling tone, “Markus won’t be joining you. That pathetic excuse of a demon is too busy being digested. My shadows get such stomach ache with the tough ones.” Angela’s heart almost shatters and the fact that her body will not allow her take vengeance burns her soul to its core. With rage in her eyes, Angela pushes out the only words her anger will allow. “Go to Hell!” Azazel laughs at Angela’s enraged expression and wittingly replies. “I‘ll save you a seat.” He exits her room, yet his laugh echoes through the halls. Soon the room fades to silence once again. Angela’s anger twists and turns into to a calm sadness. A lonely tear runs down her wrinkled face. She can feel her life force quickly evaporating. She knows this is the end for her. With her last dying breath she speaks. “Markus, my love, how I wish I could see you once more. I pray that we meet again in the afterlife, even if it is in Hell. My babies, I am so sorry. I love you, Mya…I…lo...ve you…Julian.”

The sound of the heart monitor signifies Angela’s death. The doctor and nurse rush in to try and save her, but it is too late. The color in her face leaves and her body becomes cold. They look for Julian all around the room, even under the bed, yet find nothing. Both baffled and saddened by the disappearance of Julian, and the death of Angela, the two bow their heads and mourn.

When all was thought lost, they hear something.

Sure enough, when the doctor bent down and looked again, there he was. With both relief and confusion, the nurse picks up the boy. Lost for words but one, she turns to the doctor and simply says, “Julian.” While the doctor and nurse pondered over the bizarre miracle, tragedy lurked not too far.

Azazel walks whistling, towards the nursery. With the pendant still swinging around his finger, his grin grows wider with each step. As he walks past the dark nursery’s window, the pendant shines with a red luster. His grin grows even bigger. When he prepares to walk in a nurse tries to stop him saying, “Excuse me sir but you’re not…” With one hand, Azazel pushes the woman, before she can say another word. As she falls back, her shadow becomes an opening mouth with rows of dagger-like teeth. The nurse lets out a short scream but is soon replaced by the quiet crunching of bones. The shadowy construct vanishes and Azazel snickers stating, “Looks like dinner‘s off my to-do list.” Without missing a beat he arrives at the door and walks in. He follows the dim glow of the pendant through the maze of newborns. The pendant glows brighter, as he closes in until it almost lights the whole room. He looks down and sees a newborn girl. “Mya Antoinette Jones. Hehehehehe.” chuckling to himself as he reading the name tag. He picks up the infant and says, “Well little lady, looks like you’re coming with me. We got someone killing to meet you.” Azazel unleashes a twisted cackle. The shadows in the room melt together, combining and whipping around the two. They're then engulfed in the darkness and vanish with a low-level boom. All that resides are the fading echoes of Azazel’s laughter and the screams of terrified infants.

of Azazel’s laughter and the screams of terrified infants.