Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

-In the Beginning-

It was a nice day.

Well, it started out as a nice day.

Now, the once bright blue skies darken into an angry gray.

An angel, who is guarding the Eastern side of Eden, stood still, watching the unusual sight before him.

A gentle-looking and aged lion patters quietly, approaching the angel. A slight whine alerts the angel ever-so-slightly.

“That went down like the fall of the Roman empire.” Said the lion.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, I know that it won't happen yet in another million years or so, but that went terribly.”

“Yeah, I think so, too.” The angel, whose name was Aldo, replied.

“I mean, the Tree of Life with the big ‘Do Not Touch’ sign wasn't even enough to thwart these creatures from their curiosity, no? They couldn't distinguish whether what is good or bad.” The lion called Tedesco said, teasing the angel further. The latter scrunched his brows even deeper.

The lion then transforms itself into a humanoid-like creature, a similar presentation like the angel.

Luscious gray hair and a beard of great length envelops this creature. His eyes, bright as the stars gleaming in the darkening skies. Honey ember, strikingly dangerous. He eyed the angel, whose bald head shined as if he had a halo around his crown. His face scrunched with worry as he watched the happenings over the paradise walls.

“Oh! Oh, do you think I made the right decision?” The angel hesitates for a while, quickly glancing at the demon beside him, “Letting them out and all?”

“Mah! I think you did what you had to do as They intended and it was thus, allora…”

“Right! Right… I know I can't do anything wrong. It's… ineffable. It's all in Their greatest plan. If you do the right thing, then there's nothing wrong about it.”

Both of them stood in silence. Awkwardly silent. The angel bowed slightly. His hands clasped behind his back and wiggled about. The demon was whistling an unknown tune, taking a quick glance over his counterpart.

Eventually, the demon spoke, “Didn’t you have a flaming sword?”

The angel, his eyes and mouth widened with utter shock. A palm over his heart, as if surprised by the sudden question.

“I… Uh.”

“I notice that you always carry it alongside you. It was rather impressive.”

“Well… Um.”

“Oh… Did you manage to lose it?”

“Hey! And no. Not really lost… I kinda…”

“Kinda?”

“I gave it away.”

“Oh, dai! You gave it away?!” The demon seemed impressed, his eyes glimmering with sheer delight.

“I had to!” The angel wiggled about. “I felt bad for those two, they are created in Their image! They were cold and are about to, if I may emphasize, face the storm. And she is pregnant! Who knows what other creatures are out there. I told them, get out there, and just move on forward. Don't even bother returning the stupid thing, just use it wisely. That's all.”

“It's for a good purpose then, no?” The demon sarcastically crooned. The angel ignored the tone and rolled his eyes, looking upward, as if asking Them for forgiveness.

“Of course, it is. It's all in the great plan.” Aldo replied reassuringly, however his voice shook with utter anxiety, causing the demon to snicker in spite of the angel.

“Wouldn't it be funny if I, the devil's incarnate, did something good for once. And you, God’s favorite creature, did a bad thing.” Tedesco challenged, wolfishly grinning at his counterpart. Aldo, sighing and softly laughing, answered.

“No, I could never do something wrong.”

“Mah…” The demon shrugged then turned towards the desert over the wall. “I suppose you wouldn't, angelo.”

Heavy, dark clouds slowly shrouded over Eden. Thunder clapped, as God’s other creatures cower, hiding from the wrath that is about to unfurl.

The storm is now approaching. Over the distance, a flickering of light flutters about, moving further and further from the walls.

Darkness then took over the night.

La Fine del Mondo

A Narrative of the happenings within the last 10 years up to the current time of our Lord and shall be in strict compliance with:

The Precise Papal Prophecies of Pope Innocentius XIV, former Carlos Cardinal Benitez

Compiled and written through divine revelations, nightly regular meditations, and highly caffeinated imagination by Hanzura, and to be posted on the internet website:

archiveofourown.org

Dramatis Personae

Supernatural Beings

God (God)

Aldo (An Angel and part-time used books dealer)

Satan (A Fallen Angel, the Adversary)

Gregory (A Fallen Angel and Duke of Hell)

Adeyemi (A Fallen Angel and Duke of Hell)

Tedesco (An Angel who has been on God’s naughty list for quite sometime now, plant dad, and harbinger of chaos within the Rome metropolitan, occasionally)

Humans

Thomas Lawrence (Seminarian and Witchfinder Private)

Vincent Benitez (Brujeria practitioner and papal descendant, unwillingly)

Tremblay (Witchfinder Sergeant)

Agnes (Medium and frequent church attendant)

Mr. O'Malley (A Father)

Mrs. O'Malley (A Mother)

Wilhelm (A Boy from Venice)

The Children of Rome

Ray (An Antichrist)

Shanumi (A Girl)

Giulio (A Boy)

Janusz (A Boy)

and

Cane (The best hellhound in all of Rome)

Chapter Text

-The Harbinger of the End of the World-

Rome.

It was a nice day.

The air in Rome was particularly fresh this time of the year. The temperature was not sweltering nor freezing, just lovingly warm. The afternoon has now turned into dusk and has been cooler into the night.

However, despite the lovely weather, the dark forces remain and are lurking about. They are always lurking… Causing mischief whenever and wherever they could. They are everywhere, even near the Vatican.

Well, maybe a few of them made it in the Vatican. Who knows?

Two of them are currently lurking in a cemetery. Just roaming around aimlessly and scowling their horrid faces, emphasizing that they are not good nor are people. One was tall, his alabaster skin, riddled with scaly skin. The other one, was stout, dark-skinned, and atop his head, was a bronze chameleon.

Both of them have been lurking around since the afternoon. Several people ogled at the odd pair, but the demons scared them away, snarling at them. Funnily enough, several nonnas have been particularly fond of the two demons, giving them some snacks for them to ‘recharge’ (according to the nonnas), since they have been ‘guarding’ the cemetery all throughout the day and into the night. Both of the demons were trying their best to scare the poor old humans away, but nonnas, next to the lions, are probably one of God’s bravest creations. One of the nonnas even said, “God bless you.”, causing both of the demons to hiss, frightening the nonna and causing her to smack them with her purse. “Ungrateful bastards.” she said as both demons inspect the injuries they acquired. 

These old humans still pack a punch, both demons thought as they continued lurking about.

Now, at exactly 11:11 p.m., they are still quietly lurking in the cemetery. Finally, one of them uttered,

“Damn this to Hell! He should have been here hours ago!”

The speaker was named Gregory, a Duke of Hell.

There are many instances of secret demonic activity influencing mankind all throughout the world. All throughout history. Most of these aren’t really visible to most of mankind, however, if one would certainly invest their whole lives and sell their souls to Satan, Their demons, and demonology, the Autostrada A90, the Grande Raccordo Anulare, resembles the eye of the damned and the demented observer, in which, represents Lord Malus the Voyeur, the all-seeing demon incarnate of Roman origin.

The locals would say that the autostrada is cursed, due to the daily heavy traffic, and has been given the epithet:

“La strada che gira intorno a Roma.”

-“The road that roams around Rome.”

Tedesco was truly proud of this creation and has granted him his high position in the Satanic ladder. The devious plan took him countless days from rearranging and shuffling multiple traffic markers around Rome, to slightly altering the design plans of the building contractors he befriended over a couple of bottles of Lambrusco. As he witnessed the beginning of construction back in 1948, a sense of a bad job done well soared in his evil little heart.

Currently, Tedesco is speeding at 100 miles per hour at Via Aurelia, ignoring several stop signals and honking his horn rather rudely, over-taking several cars in the process. He looked rather human-like compared to his other demonic peers.

His wavy gray hair and beard flowed like the Tiber River. He was wearing a dark pinstripe suit with a dark cape over it, customized coincidentally by a Mafia tailor. He looked as if he was an Italian mafia don, rather than a demon.  Everything about him was normal-looking, except for his eyes. He was wearing dark sunglasses in the dead of the night, which was in, itself, not normal at all, except if you are blind (since it’s excusable, not to offend any blind people, or anything like that, carry on…) or you just deem it cool to do so. His eyes were similar to a lion’s, honey ember and unusually bright, as if it was Hell burning.

He also had the tendency to snarl.

He was driving a 1948 black Ferrari 166 Inter, with customized red interiors, his favorite color. Like Hell.

He was late. He knows that he was. He was frantically looking at the road, cursing at any vehicle that was blocking his way, and then switching his sights to his vintage Oris watch, which was a gift from a dear friend during the 1980’s. The car speakers were blaring out This is Ricchi E Poveri over on his Spotify, which he shares with this dear friend of his. Frankly, the 21st century has become his favorite century. The internet, spam e-mails, and the vape were some of his favorite features. Earlier, he was enjoying the day causing minor mischief around Rome, he totally forgot about the arrangements for this evening. Very Italian of him to say the least. He seems to be turning into one.

A mixture of red and blue lights were following him throughout his drive around the A90, to which he is totally ignoring, although, it’s getting into his nerves. As he took his exit, he gestured his hands over his shoulder, twiddling his fingers slightly, and causing the police car behind him to suddenly halt, much to the confusion of its occupants. Tedesco drives further into the night.

Meanwhile, in the graveyard, the tall demon Gregory shuffled back to Adeyemi, the stout demon.

“Finally, there’s a light over the trees.” He said, pointing towards the forest. “Here comes the bastard.”

“What is this Tedesco like?” Adeyemi asked, rather curious. The taller demon groaned, rolling his eyes in utter contempt.

“He has been in this place for far too long. He is almost like the creatures here. Very arrogant, brash. I’d like to say that the word ‘asshole’ is truly him.” Gregory said, crossing his arms. Adeyemi then continued.

“What is the machine that he’s in?”

“Ah, since you haven’t been in these parts for so long, that is called a ‘car’.” Gregory replied smugly. Voice reeking with confidence, “Like a wagon, but automated.” Gregory's tongue clicked, as to prove that he is far smarter that his fellow demon.

Demons are less knowledgeable when it comes to modern technology. They don’t usually mingle around these parts for long. However, Adeyemi stared in awe, when Tedesco’s Ferrari pulled up in the cemetery gates. What an old looking wagon, he thought.

“I do not understand one bit of what you’re saying.” The stout demon replied, snorting arrogantly. “Hail Satan!” He shouted towards Tedesco, who was stepping out of his vehicle.

“Hail Satan!” Gregory also shouted.

“Buonasera.” Tedesco greeted, gesturing his head towards the two other demons. “Sorry about this. The traffic in Rome is terrible and my GPS tracker has been glitching and…”

“Now that we are gathered here today.” Gregory cuts Tedesco’s passionate rambling. “We must share our Evil Doings that we have accomplished on this day in time of our Lord Satan.”

“Ah, yes. Our Evil Doings.” Tedesco exclaimed, suddenly remembering the particular rituals his brothers in Satan usually do whenever they congregate. It was quite sometime since he had mingled with his own kind.

Gregory began.

“I have caused a bishop to resign.” He then smugly smirks at his cohorts. “I have caused him to bribe his fellow brothers, and thus completing his act of simony. He was to be enacted as cardinal, but In two years, we shall have him in the Church of Satan.”

“Bene.” Tedesco whistled, rather impressed.

“I lured a married politician into having sexual relations with his secretary, thus committing the act of adultery. Within a year, we shall have him in the Church of Satan.” Adeyemi recounted.

Then, both of the demons reluctantly faced Tedesco, who was wolfishly grinning.

“This will be good.” He reassures them. “I caused an internet outage all throughout Rome the entire morning.”

There was awkward silence between the three demons and the other lost spirits that lingered within the cemetery. Even the crickets stopped chirping momentarily.

“Ah, yes, of course…” Gregory mutters, raising his eyebrow, towards the grinning demon. “Is that it?”

Tedesco’s face, now turning red, annoyed at his brothers in Satan. “Is that it? What do you mean?”

“How did this Evil Doing satisfy our Lord’s insatiability for sin?” Adeyemi questioned, causing Tedesco to gape at him.

“Ecco!” As Tedesco prepared himself to explain that this Evil Doing caused millions of Italians to curse the good name of God and Their Holy Son, Jesus of Nazareth for over 5 hours, before he decided that enough was enough and switched the internet back on. This small devious act, caused millions to swear and utter the Lord’s name in vain, a tiny stain in their souls. As they accumulate more and more throughout their lifetimes, there is no doubt that more of these souls will enter the Church of Satan soon. And it was hardly a lot of effort for Tedesco.

It was a difficult task to share these kinds of Evil Doings to old-school, traditional demons, like Gregory and Adeyemi, who were using up their entire day to lure one soul into the Church. It was really impressive that they were targeting big shots, but that’s just one soul. Tedesco was more about quantity rather than quality.

“Mah! It seems that our Lord is quite satisfied with our Evil Doings for today.” Tedesco shrugs, gesturing nonchalantly. “So… Tutto bene?”

Gregory, reaching from behind him, held out a picnic basket.

“Cioè…” Tedesco stared, wide eyed, at the basket, pointing at it. “Is it time?”

“Yes, it is.” Gregory replied, grinning evilly.

“Ah, yes…” Tedesco hesitates. “And I will be the one to… deliver this? Perché?”

Adeyemi nodded, smirking at his fellow demon.

“Don’t be a coward now, Tedesco. You are highly favored by our Lord. They are quite aware that you can deliver the package greatly.” He added to the conversation, as Tedesco slowly and hesitantly reached out towards the basket.

Tedesco deeply and remorsefully sighed, groaning terribly. His once confident stance, now cowering knees, as he finally got hold of the basket.

“Fine, allora…” He sighed, his eyebrow scrunching, his confidence dropping by the seconds, much to the pleasure of his brothers in Satan.

“Here, sign this.” Gregory, pulling out an ancient scroll from his pocket. “It’s just a formality.”

Tedesco, who was struggling to fight his inner turmoil and trying not to chuck the basket into the air, fumbles about his cape, coat, and pocket, afterwards, producing a lovely pen with a flourish.

“Such a showman...” Adeyemi commented, as Tedesco signed the scroll, the ink leaving a bright red glow, Goffredo J. Tedesco.

“Goffredo J. Tedesco.” Gregory whistled low. “What does the ‘J’ stand for? The Son of ‘They Who Shall Not Be Named’?” He questioned as he tucked the scroll back into his pocket.

“Up to your interpretation, mio fratello.” Tedesco sighed. “What will I do with this?” He asked, gesturing vaguely towards the basket.

“You will receive instructions.” Gregory replied. “Hey, don’t be glum now, Tedesco. Just think of our eternal success, yeah?” Adeyemi nods in reassurance.

“I suppose so…” Tedesco sighed deeply once more, looking ever-so-worried. “Eh, I’ll be going along then.”

“Yes, just do your job right, brother. Our Lord must be satisfied with the outcome of this.”

“Yes. Yes, I will, mio fratello. Eh, I must go now. Ciao.” Tedesco waved off, scrambling over to his Ferrari, package at hand.

As the Ferrari drove off the cemetery, Gregory and Adeyemi glanced at each other.

“Do you think he’ll succeed with this task?” Adeyemi asked.

“If I was given this task, I know I would. I’m not sure about this Tedesco. But our Lord knows best, we must not question Their ways.” Gregory replied, as both of them watched the Ferrari's light dim out through the forest.

Inside the vehicle, the demon manning it, was slamming on the steering wheel. Hard. Until his palms turn red. Having received the Lord Satan’s instructions via the car speakers that distorted Andrea Bocelli’s voice into a dark, demonic warble, he was panicking… A lot… And to think he was having such a lovely day earlier today.

Armageddon. La Fine del Mondo.

And the beginning of this, now, lies beside him on the passenger seat of his Ferrari.

He knows that the time will come, but not this unexpected. He didn't even realize that all the Evil Doing that he has been up to, has caused him to be the Harbinger of the End of the World. The Great War. The War between Heaven and Hell. Where there would be endless Heaven or Hell. Just like that.

La fine.

He thought of just leaving the basket behind and driving back into the Rome metropolitan, where his heart, his life is deeply ingrained. But, he knows it’s impossible. All of this is happening, because it has to. And he’s the one who’ll light it aflame.

Truthfully, he was an angel before everything went to shit. He just hung around the wrong people. That’s all.

Now, the basket beside him began to shake, as a sharp shrieking echoed throughout the Ferrari. A cry, deafening and unheard of. Ancient. Evil. 

It is time.

Chapter Text

-Where It Goes Wrong-

Venice. 04:44 a.m.

A certain Mr. O’Malley has been pacing the Hospital Santa Lamia’s Labor and Delivery ward, back and forth. Back and forth. The attendants must have been quite annoyed by his pacing by now, but who can blame him. This is his and the wife’s first child.

Mrs. O’Malley had broken her water the day before, and in a panic, Mr. O’Malley rushed her immediately to the hospital, despite the wife’s protests. The baby is not yet due for another 24 hours, the missus shouted, as he sped into the Venetian streets like a maniac. Consequently, this earned him several speeding tickets issued by the Polizia Stradale via e-mail. An unwarranted surprise among the spam and automated messages in his inbox.

Now, he decided to hang about outside, finding his way towards the designated smoking area, near the fire exit. It has been a long time since he had a proper cigarette. Ever since Mrs. O’Malley got pregnant (Finally, after 10 years of trying, it was difficult but when they both learned of the pregnancy, they were overjoyed! It was a miracle!), he stopped smoking immediately. For the baby’s sake, Mrs. O’Malley would always remind him.

A fellow loiterer noticed the new presence in the smoking area. They eyed the uneasy Mr. O’Malley quickly, quietly observing. They then offered a cigarette, much to the surprise of Mr. O’Malley. He offered a nod of gratitude, as the loiterer lit the cigarette for him. He, with shaky fingers, took a long and deep drag. His long inexperience with smoking, caused him to hack violently, choking on the smoke he inhaled rather impatiently.

“Mona! No sta morir!”

-”Fuck! Don’t die!”

The loiterer exclaimed, as they patted Mr. O’Malley’s back. After a few minutes, Mr. O’Malley managed to gather his senses, calming himself down. Miraculously, despite the sudden intrusion, he still held the lit cigarette between his fingers. Old habits die hard, as they say. He took another drag, successfully inhaling then exhaling without coughing.

“I’m a new father. Thank you for the cigarette.” Mr. O’Malley, with a terrible Venetian accent, thanked the loiterer, who waved their hands arrogantly, insisting that it was no problem. And out of the goodness of their heart, congratulated the new father fervently.

As Mr. O’Malley headed back towards the hospital, a dark car sped towards him, almost hitting him. The car abruptly screeched to a halt, a dazed Mr. O’Malley stood still, like a deer in the headlights. An older man, who was smoking a cigar, stepped out of the vehicle holding a basket. He spits out the finished cigar onto the asphalt, stubbing it out with his dark oxfords. He then eyed the immobilized Mr. O’Malley. A stiff eyebrow raised, over the dark sunglasses the man wore.

“Va a caghàr!”

-”Fuck off!”

The older man clad in all-black exclaimed, as he forcibly shoved Mr. O’Malley away from the Ferrari. His confident gait carried a particular arrogance, as he strode towards the hospital’s fire exit. Before the older man fully entered the building, he snarled, like a lion would — which was certainly odd and caused more confusion for the new father. Mr. O’Malley, seized by curiosity, followed the odd man into the hospital. However, upon passing through the doors, he cannot find him. He shrugs it off. Probably a doctor needed for an emergency, he reckons, as made his way towards the hospital cafeteria. A strong cup of espresso is in order.

Coincidentally, Mrs. O’Malley stirred from her slumber.

Fate is a funny little thing. Throw uncertainty into the mix, then you’ve got yourselves a dangerous game of coin toss; just two sides, heads or tails, right or wrong. And at this moment, the coin has landed on the wrong side, twice. Just to prove a point that all of this will go to shit. And not a single player is aware of the outcome.

Tedesco, despite not stepping into this specific hospital, knows his way around it. The instructions clearly showed him where to go and he just wanted the delivery done and over with. He headed straight towards the Neonatal Unit, where a particular group of nurses took care of the newborn babies. These nurses are also practitioners of the ancient tradition of ‘Infernal Medicine’. Accursed Assistant Nurse Lilith has been a Satanist at a very young age. However, she dreamt of becoming a nurse, and luckily for her, the Satanic Sisterhood of Sodom was willing to help her achieve her dreams of becoming a Satanist nurse, despite her short-comings. She has always been a slow girl.

Now, she has been handed the Antichrist.

“This is him, yes?” She asked, as she eyed the basket.

“SÌ, it is.” Tedesco replied, finally having let go of the accursed basket. Nurse Lilith then took a peek inside the basket. The baby, the Antichrist, the Beast, the Son of Satan, the Prince of the Underworld, the Child of the Abyss, the Great Adversary, sneezed.

“Oh, hail Satan!” Nurse Lilith cooed in return. She then gazed towards the demon, who was getting impatient by the second. “I thought he’d look more... You know, gnarly… Fiendish, like his Father. With the horns, and the wings, and all that…”

“No.” Tedesco replied sternly, as he pulled out a red vape out of his breast pocket. “Per favore, just deliver the bambino to the German chancellor’s wife. Il tempo è essenziale! Vai!”

-Time is of the essence! Go!”

Tedesco, shrouded in a thick, strawberry-scented vapor, exclaimed before he fled.

Nurse Lilith, carrying the baby, the Antichrist, the Beast, the Son of Satan, the Prince of the Underworld, the Child of the Abyss, the Great Adversary, headed into the room where it held all the newborns. She found a bassinet and laid him onto it.

Another nurse, who peeked through the large window, was knocking on it. Nurse Lilith lifted her head towards the window, then the other nurse entered the room.

“Nurse Lilith! Where have you been? I thought you were on duty on the sixth floor.” The other nurse, Accursed Associate Nurse Naamah asked, as she, in succession, wheeled in two other babies, freshly cleaned and smelt of mild lavender. She laid the tagged bassinets beside the Antichrist’s, which was untagged.

“Well, Master Tedesco came in and… Just look at what he brought in.” Nurse Lilith answered, gesturing wildly towards the bassinet with the Antichrist. Nurse Naamah raised her eyebrow.

“Oh, I can see that, my dear. Anyway, deliver the babies to the correct rooms, will you? This baby…” She then pointed at the baby besides the Antichrist. “Must be delivered to the fifth floor. And this baby…” Nurse Nammah was then cut off by her pager beeping loudly. “Oh, dear. Another birth! Why is everyone in Venice having babies all of a sudden?” She exclaimed as she fled the room, leaving Nurse Lilith alone, with several newborns, who, all at once, awoke due the loud beeping. All of them (except for the Antichrist, who was mildly annoyed at his fellow baby-kind.) began wailing in all differing levels of loud. Nurse Lilith is certainly having a field day early in the morning. Merda.

After what seems like a lifetime, she finally shushed all the newborn babies into a quiet calm. All the bassinets had gone awry, as if a storm brewed in the Neonatal Unit. Several of the paper tags, that were supposedly stuck on the bassinets, had been scattered on the floor. Nurse Lilith has decided, “Fuck it!”, and has stuck the tags on randomly. Like a game of pin the tail on the pony — rather, pin the nametag on the baby.

All the newborn look alike, Nurse Lilith suddenly thought, as she began frantically searching for the Antichrist. Luckily, she sensed the evil presence of the Antichrist, she said a quick “Hail, Satan!”, before wheeling him to the fourth floor.

As she passed by the elevators, it dinged open, revealing a fidgety Mr. O’Malley. He eyed the bassinet, then began to follow the nurse. He held out a small wave.

“Hello. I’m the father. I hope he wasn’t too fussy.” Mr. O’Malley said in his horrid Venetian, a small nervous smile upon his face. Nurse Lilith took a quick glance towards the scrawny-looking man, then it clicked, albeit wonkily… She expected that the German chancellor would be more uptight with several bodyguards surrounding him, with less humor in his voice, and would speak with a deeply accented English. However, bless the man, he was trying to keep things ‘lowkey’, as the youngins would say.

“Yes, and congratulations!” Nurse Lilith exclaimed, as she, Mr. O’Malley, and the baby, the Antichrist, the Beast, the Son of Satan, the Prince of the Underworld, the Child of the Abyss, the Great Adversary, entered the hospital suite, where a passed out Mrs. O’Malley slept. Another bassinet, with a sleeping baby, is also in the suite.

“Are they twins? I thought we only had one baby.” Mr. O’Malley commented, observing the unusual sight before him.

“Ah, no. This one is yours!” Nurse Lilith interjected, as she was wracking her brain for an excuse. “We just laid that one here since he needed, uh... special maternal presence. His mother is currently being transferred to this floor.” She responded awkwardly, softly coughing to ease the nervous tension.

Mr. O’Malley then shrugged, not bothering to question the nurse, “Alright, I suppose it’s protocol…” Then, a beat.

“I hope everything is in order? You know, with my son…” Mr. O’Malley speculated, eyeing the sleeping newborn, er, newborns. Nurse Lilith frantically nodded in return. Everything is in order… so German, she thought.

“Oh, yes! Very normal indeed. Very healthy.” Nurse Lilith then, out of sheer ignorance, added. “He’ll grow up to be a fine German boy.”

Mr. O’Malley cocked an eyebrow, uncertain as to where the comment came from. The nurse was probably tired, he thought, as he inspected the baby, like he was a Polizeimeister (Police Constable) or something.

“Hmm, I guess so. He does have a little German on my side of the family.” He responded casually, while he took a seat on the shabby chair all the hospital rooms were provided with.

“And how is Venice treating you?” Nurse Lilith asked. “I bet your job back at home is quite taxing.” 

“Yes, it has been a struggle. Especially with a pregnant wife.” Mr. O’Malley said, a bit dazed from the espresso he had earlier.

“Not easy balancing things around, no? Family and work.” Nurse Lilith said. “Must be an exciting job.” Stunned at the gracious comment, Mr. O’Malley seemed to ease down a bit. Not everyone appreciates the job of a journalist, particularly, a celebrity gossip columnist.

Suddenly, an even rapping on the door echoed throughout the hospital suite. The door opened to reveal an exhausted Nurse Naamah, whose eyes widened at the sight before her. There should only be one baby in this room, not two, she thought, confused. She then nodded towards her fellow Satanist nurse, who nodded in return.

Both of the nurses stared at each other quietly, since they weren’t allowed to utter anything about the exchanging of babies to the commoners. Nurse Lilith, with a pleased smile plastered on her face (apparently, she thought that she did a great job of delivering the baby, the Antichrist, the Beast, the Son of Satan, the Prince of the Underworld, the Child of the Abyss, the Great Adversary, to the German chancellor), then vaguely gestured her head towards the other sleeping baby, for Nurse Naamah, who held a stern look (her eyes beg to differ as it was filled with worry, if the right baby was being delivered to the right parents), to take.

Frankly, Nurse Naamah would have easily noticed Nurse Lilith’s mistake, if she wasn’t being pressured and meddled by several stern German leibwache (bodyguards), leaning on the doorframe and watching her every move with scrutinizing eyes. She just folded over. Then, without a beat, she wheeled the other baby outside, leaving Nurse Lilith, Mr. and Mrs. O’Malley, and the Antichrist alone.

“Have you thought of a name?” Nurse Lilith suddenly piped up, turning towards Mr. O’Malley, who was starting to nod off slightly. He sprung up awake, in full attention.

“Umm, not exactly, no.”

“Malvolio or Cifarelli seems like nice Italian names…”

“Very unusual names, indeed. But, I think the wife wouldn’t like that. We’re not Italian for one.” Mr. O’Malley responded, recalling the rolodex of names he and Mrs. O’Malley had discussed prior — if they had even discussed any names at all.

“How about Amon or Wilder? Fairly modern German names, no?”

“I’d rather like a simple name. My Irish family always had simple ones.”

“Oh, Kieran and Cary sound lovely.”

After a few minutes of discussing baby names, ranging from biblical to absurd ones, Nurse Lilith then, as if a miracle as spurted in her mind, reluctantly mumbled,

“Raymond. He could be called Ray.” She thought, as the name seemed safe enough. Very simple. Ray… Like the Ray of Doom or Death Ray or something.

“Raymond?” Mr. O’Malley echoed, pondering amusingly.

“Ray.” He then repeated, rather softly. “He looks like a Raymond.”

And so it was thus, as the sun rose over the Dolomite Mountains, at exactly 06:00 a.m. on the 6th day of the 6th month of our Lord, the baby, the Antichrist, the Beast, the Son of Satan, the Prince of the Underworld, the Child of the Abyss, the Great Adversary was named:

Raymond. Ray.

It began raining hard.

Which was unusual for Venice in June. The strange phenomenon rocked the region.

The strong rains began four days later after Mrs. O’Malley and the wife of the German chancellor left the Hospital Santa Lamia. Then, the acqua alta (flooding) occurred in the region, particularly affecting the hospital gravely, causing severe damage to the land it occupied.

The instigator of the flooding was lurking near the hospital premises. Tall, with alabaster and scaly skin.

The delivery was accomplished and he could go back home now. He has a piling tower of paperwork, waiting for him in Hell. Tedesco can just do the rest.

Satisfied, Gregory, a Duke of Hell, then left the premises.

Chapter Text

-The Brujo and The Witchfinder (INTERLUDE)-

Mexico City.

“Dios te bendiga, mi niño. Adiós.” His Holiness, Pope Innocentius XIV, softly bids farewell, before the telephone line drops into static.

A young Vincent Benitez sighed in relief, as he returned the telephone back in its place. He massages his temples, as another migraine hits him. So much so for the blessing from his uncle.

Innocentius XIV, The Supreme Pontiff of the Universal Church, the Vicar of Christ, El Papa, The Pope, his uncle, Carlos Benitez had called him. He couldn’t believe it when his uncle was proclaimed shepherd of the Catholic Church roughly a year ago. The old man was already nearing old age and yet he has been handed the ultimate responsibility of steering the entire Catholic Church. All of Mexico, all of the one billion Catholics in the world, everyone in his family was so proud of this achievement, except for him. And he knows that it was quite petty of him to feel such resentment towards his uncle, but family traditions must be embraced.

Brujería (Witchcraft) has been in his family's tradition for centuries, passed down through generations of brujos and brujas (witches). However, his uncle had other plans and decided to leave the family tradition behind years ago. His uncle entered a seminary after his 18th birthday (initially, at this age, young men and women of the Benitez family were sworn into Brujería to start the practice.) and never turned back. Father Carlos Benitez left home to heed his religious and spiritual calling. He had been doing his missions for years in Mexico, before moving away to serve in the Congo, in Baghdad, and then in Kabul, where he was apparently made cardinal in pectore by the late Pope, much to his family’s surprise and to his utter disappointment.

And now, he has been deemed most worthy, most holy of the position as Supreme Pontiff.

Thus, making brujo novato Vincent Benitez an official papal descendant, much to his dismay.

“Hijo mío, prepara las hierbas. Ya es de mañana.”

-My son, prepare the herbs. It is already morning.

Mrs. Benitez called him over from the living room — she placed a raw egg with a cup of water on the family altar. La limpia de huevo.

Vincent sighed once more, staring into the rising sun before him. He held a silver amulet necklace over his chest. He must start his morning cleansing ritual.

London.

"Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen." Mr. Lawrence mutters softly, having blessed their meal, slowly opens his eyes and unclasped his hands. The Lawrence family, after gesturing the sign of the cross, then began partaking in their evening meal.

A young Thomas Lawrence slowly chews the morsel of potatoes in his mouth. He was notably quiet among the rowdy dinner table. To cut the growing tension in the room, his father began asking him questions.

“How are you with your studies, my lad?” Mr. Lawrence asked him sternly, eyeing his son across the table. Despite his cold, icy gaze, his voice was gentle yet firm. It was clearly heard between the clattering of tableware and the chattering of young children. Thomas looked up towards his father, his blue eyes met with his father’s own pair. They look eerily alike, as if Thomas was the younger version of his father.

The Lawrence family has been staunch Catholics for generations, attending every Sunday mass and other celebrations their local church held. The family is always active in the church, participating in all occasions whenever they possibly can. Their faith in the church has strengthened further after young Thomas decided to become a priest during his 18th birthday and is currently taking up theology and philosophy in college. The priesthood has been Thomas’ calling ever since his encounter with childhood cancer, acute lymphoblastic leukemia.

Luckily, he is now in remission.

He is also the eldest among his 5 other siblings — 2 girls and 3 boys. His mother is truly a saint for keeping up with 6 children.

“Tell us about your day, my darling.” Mrs. Lawrence encouraged him, a small kind smile adored her face — she was cutting up a piece of roast for his younger brother. He smiled in return.

Thomas eagerly responded to his parents, recounting his classes earlier today. He held a silver cross necklace over his chest. He must start praying harder this evening.

Chapter Text

-The Dear Friend-

Castel Sant'Angelo.

Aldo is a Prince of Heaven, but his angel-kind never took him seriously. 

Both he and Tedesco don’t always see eye to eye, however having been in each other’s company for six millenia, having been familiar with each other for the longest time, they now considered each other as ‘friends’ despite their initial and striking difference.

You wouldn’t expect an angel and a demon to be friends.

They, for the most part, have been cordial with each other, to the point where both of them realized that they were similar in some sort of crazy and uncanny way. Around the time of the third millennia of their ‘friendship’, they had agreed and created a sort of Truce between the two of them. 

This, in turn, has been a way for them to settle their differences and cherish the similarities they share, as they traverse through their jobs and their day-to-day life on Earth. They do their jobs together — efficiency for both Aldo and Tedesco. If Aldo needs a quick ride around Rome, Tedesco would pick him up at any of their several designated meeting places. If Tedesco (as he is always late for everything — even at his job.) needed help with something that requires timeliness, Aldo would do the job for him instead. This Truce has been mutually beneficial for both of them for over the six millennia. A win-win situation for both in all honesty.

Their superiors wouldn’t even notice who accomplished the job, as long as it was done.

Currently, Aldo is hanging around near Castel Sant’Angelo, leisurely walking along on the ponte (bridge), admiring the Tiber River and watching a flock of seagulls fight for a soggy piece of ciabatta, thrown by a passerby on the street. He then faced Tedesco, who was walking  alongside him.

“Oh, Tedesco. You shouldn’t be ashamed.” Aldo said, glancing towards the demon beside him.

“Mah!” Tedesco exclaimed, raising his arms up in defeat. “I should be ashamed!”

“Well, we are aware that something will eventually happen. I didn’t expect it too soon. But, the German chancellor?” Aldo muttered, slowing his pace for Tedesco to catch up.

“Yes. And I am not sure why the Germans…” replied Tedesco, squinting his bespectacled eyes. It seems that the seagulls are trying to murder each other over the bread, much to his delight. Evil can conjure up in small ways.

“Are we to assume that the Holy War will be instigated by the Germans?” queried Aldo, internally horrified by the seagull squabble unfurling before their very eyes. “We know that the Germans don’t do well in wars.”

Tedesco snorted, finally facing the angel beside him.

“Every country will be involved, of course. The Germans might get blamed for it… again, unfortunately. Although the certain ex-dictator was Austrian, the Germans are still blamed for it, even though they were just following orders. They were quite good at it, no?” This caused both of them to chuckle in spite of poor Deutschland and its people.

As their laughter slowly subsided, Aldo suddenly became quiet, as a stern expression slowly marred in his face. He fixed the thick-rimmed spectacles on his face. He didn't need them anyway, but he looked quite smart with them on.

“We will win, of course.”

Tedesco rolled his shiny amber eyes, luckily the angel didn’t notice, due to the sunglasses placated on the demon’s face.

“Perché lo pensi? It seems impossibile…”

-Why do you think so?

“Why, and do tell, is it impossible? A win for Heaven is the better outcome between the two.” challenged Aldo, raising an eyebrow towards his counterpart, a mild annoyance in his voice. Tedesco grinned. He is going to have so much fun with this.

“How many musicians do you have in Heaven, huh? Il fior fiore?”

-The cream of the crop.

“I’m not sure…”

“Solo due. Vera Lynn and Vivaldi.”

-Only two.

Tedesco then held up two of his fingers, shoving it towards Aldo’s face, much to the brewing irritation of the angel. The demon then continued.

“We have the rest down there. Mozart, Beethoven, even two of the Beatles, and everyone else. Can you imagine ‘We’ll Meet Again’ and ‘Gloria’ playing over and over again here on Earth? For all eternity?”

“That would be rather boring.” Aldo admitted, exciting the demon further, as their conversation is getting somewhere. The angel continued. “Although… Vivaldi has a sizable body of work. I wouldn’t mind it, really.” He then added, causing the demon to gape at him.

“Oh, per favore! Che vuoi?!” exclaimed Tedesco, gesturing a dramatic pinching of his fingers, his face turning quite red. Very demonic of him to say the least.

-Oh, please! What do you mean?

Aldo winced at the gesticulation, his bald head is getting damp — Tedesco is becoming aggravated. And, If he was totally honest, he was certainly enjoying their heated conversation so far. Bummer.

“This means: No Sinatra, no ABBA and disco music — finally, such terrible music! No books, bookshops, cafes, and gelaterias! No Vatican City, Rome, the entirety of Italia! No morning espresso with cornettos. No lemon gelatos. No chess boards. No —“ Tedesco is now angrily picking at everything Aldo loves. “ — Italian cuisine!”

“Ineffable!” Aldo suddenly blurted out, cutting Tedesco’s personally offensive tirade. “Everything will turn out for the best when we win!”

“It wouldn't be as enjoyable though.” replied Tedesco, rolling his eyes once more, as they approached the haphazardly parked Ferrari in front of the ponte. Luckily, no polizia (police) were around the premises. No parking violation ticket on his windshield. The demon then snapped his fingers together, unlocking the vehicle.

As Tedesco turned the ignition on, Aldo, who sat on the passenger seat, faced him. A soft glimmer flickered in his warm brown eyes.

“We should head somewhere else.” The angel suggested. Tedesco raised his eyebrow in return.

“How about I treat you out for lunch, no? I owe you one from… when was it again?” asked Tedesco, slowly gearing the car forwards.

“1981, here in Rome.” Aldo gently muttered, buckling the seatbelt. “And please, for the love of all that is holy and divine, drive carefully and slowly this time!”

“Mah!” Tedesco interjected, suddenly stomping down the gas pedal. “It would save us more time if we do not follow the rules!” The demon cackled demonically.

The panicked angel then tightly held the grab handle as if his immortal life depended on it.

“Tedesco! Stop that!”

“Just teasing. I wouldn’t want you dead.” Tedesco then paused for a bit, thinking. “Let’s go to Ristorante la Campana.”

A wide mirthful grin slowly replaced the panicked look on Aldo’s face.

“My favorite.”

On Earth, Aldo is just one Aldo Maria Bellini, a rare book dealer in Rome.

Well, he mainly utilized his bookshop as a storage for the books he had collected over the millenia. In all the centuries that he had his bookshop, he managed to not have sold or traded any of the books in his collection. He is pretty good at gently veering away all of the interested customers that befall the bookshop’s way. A little miracle of his own.

Aldo has a particular interest in collecting religious books, such as bibles (He owns several cursed ones, he is very proud of it), papal publications (First editions, mind you, sneaking into the Vatican is quite easy when you’re an angel), and prophetic-adjacent books (From Nostradamus to the local Roman eclectic witch, Aldo has it all). After all, Aldo lives in Rome, near the Vatican. He is surely in the midst of all this religious hubbub.

Now, it had been 10 hours since the delivery and naming of the Antichrist, an angel and a demon had been drinking solidly for 2 hours in a cramped back room of a book shop.

Aldo’s book shop is near the Vatican, much to Tedesco’s annoyance. They had a short squabble about it decades ago, when Aldo had first moved into Rome and Tedesco welcomed him.

“Why did you have to put up your shop near the Vatican? It is clearly a five-minute walk!”

“I wanted to feel safer! It’s sacred territory! The one in Venice was near the Grand Canal, in Piazza San Marco. It would get flooded there and my books would always get damaged!”

“And have me in the midst of all this holiness?! Venice was much better!”

“Yes! You’re stuck here with me now!”

The small dining table between the two entities is currently littered with wine bottles. Chianti, Tedesco’s favorite.

“You see, urgh…” A scarlet-faced Tedesco trying to utter words. “You see… Turtles, that is my answer.” Tedesco clumsily slurred.

Across from him, sat Aldo, who began puckering his lips as though kissing the air.

“Sea turtles…” Aldo managed to spurt out through his puckered lips. “Very. Old. Creatures.” He nodded and slurred out the phrase, emphasizing all the words. One. By. One.

“SÌ! Old creatures!” The demon interjected, dramatically pointing his pointer finger up to the sky. “Just swimming along the vast waters, living for a hundred years!”

“A hundred years?!” The angel suddenly interfered. His big brown eyes, hiding behind his thick-rimmed glasses, blew out wide. “They can live for that long?!”

“I do not know. I just guessed.” Tedesco shrugged, while chugging down a full glass of wine, gulping the red liquid down with gusto.

“How could they swim in water, then crawl onto land?” The angel asked, his body slowly sinking deeper onto the tufted desk chair. He seems to be merging and becoming one with the chair.

“I think sea turtles are very clever, no? Despite their small heads, they are smarter than we think.” The demon said.

“Mermaids.” Aldo slurred, out of the blue. It seems that he is out of his wits, as he had been staring outside the window for the entire conversation, as Tedesco observed.

“Uh-huh…”

“Are sea turtles mermaids?” Asked Aldo. “Sea turtles seem like majestic creatures, and so are mermaids. With their long hair, beautiful voices, luring in sailors and just bam! Sea turtles, since they are adorable creatures, can lure in people, too. Although, they have no hair… Do they have hair?”

“No.”

“Exactly!”

“Then, there you go!” The demon encouraged. “That’s why the sea turtles live for so long, because they are adorable creatures. They lure in the humans and eat them!”

“Really?!”

Tedesco began snickering in spite of the angel, causing Aldo to blush.

“Oh, no! You’re doing it again!” The angel interjected, chugging down a cup full of wine.

“No, I’m not!” Replied the demon, as he banged his fist on the table, causing the bottles and glasses to shake and clink against each other.

“Yes, you are! I’m an angel! I know your twisted ways!”

“I’m not doing anything! I swear!”

“You’re trying to tempt me! I know you, you old leone!”

“Remember, there are no operas in Heaven.”

“Oh, hush, you fiend!”

“Or theaters.”

“Stop it!” Aldo suddenly winced, as a sharp pain zipped through his aching bald head. “I can’t deal with this while I’m drunk.”

“Me too.”

Both of them then winced, gasping painfully, removing the excess alcohol in their bodily systems. Well, their human forms anyway.

“Ugh, don’t you dare take advantage of me during a very vulnerable state.” The angel accused the snickering demon, who was feigning ignorance.

“Bah! I was not even trying.” Tedesco said, as he withdrew his red vape out of his jacket. He brought the accursed device on his lips, puffing out a thick strawberry-scented cloud. The smoke surrounded the back room gradually. Aldo rolled his eyes in return and tutted the smoking demon.

As a literal and diabolical menace to society and for extra cool points, Tedesco smokes — but never in front of Aldo.

However, he does so occasionally whenever he wants to annoy the living hell, rather heaven, out of the angel. Prior to all this, the smell of cigarettes would put the angel into fits. The smell would linger in the books and the smoke is dangerous to their health, even though they don’t get sick anyway. Thus, he recently switched to a vape. It's still a disgusting habit, but at least it smelled better.

Strawberries — just how the angel likes it.

“That’s disgusting, you know. It’s like poison.” Aldo finally said, sniffing the pleasant-smelling, though highly hazardous vapor. He stood up, albeit wobbly, and opened the small window above the table.

“We are entità soprannaturali. We don’t get affected by any of this.”

“I don’t care. I am this close to kicking you out of my book shop.”

“You won’t kick me out.” The demon teased, sticking his tongue out, causing the angel to blush more.

“Anyway, you know I can’t interfere with the Divine Plans.” Aldo said, crossing his arms and ignoring the demon’s taunting.

“Yes, of course. But, I think you can interfere with Diabolical ones, no?” Tedesco replied with a menacing tone in his voice. He is scheming something, Aldo noticed.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, trying to thwart the child into becoming evil.”

“But isn’t it hereditary? You know, he is the Evil One’s son. He can’t help being evil, he was born into it — er, rather of it, as well.”

“Well, if you could remember. Satan was an angel, then became the Great Adversary overtime. Even though the child is subjected to evil, a little Good Influence might make him into an angel. Just as his father was.”

“Just as his father was…” Aldo pondered, pausing for a moment. “As long as there aren’t any Satanic Influences affecting him…”

“Correct! And Hell will just have to start all over again! Earth will just get another ten years, and that wouldn’t be too bad, no?” Tedesco said, clasping his hands together. His scheme is rubbing on Aldo.

A moment of drunken silence echoed throughout the back room. Aldo then continued.

“So, you’re saying that the child is not evil in itself?”

“Yes, he will neither be Good or Evil. And it will all depend on how he was raised.”

“It’s worth a shot. For the child, to teach him Good and Evil. Then, after ten years, he’ll just choose whatever he truly feels? Or nothing at all?” Aldo asked, slowly realizing the Diabolical Plan.

“Perfetto!” Tedesco enthusiastically exclaimed. “You finally got it! We have ten years to shape the child to neither be Good or Evil.”

“I agree.” The angel surprisingly held his hand towards the demon, who shook it in return.

“We’ll be like padrini… Just overseeing the child’s upbringing…”

“Godfathers…” A small subtle grin crept on Aldo’s face. “Well, I’ll be damned, Tedesco. You thought of everything.” 

“You know me. I’m a smart demon.”

Now, two boys will live in harmony on Earth, to grow up with their respective parents and the influences that will shape them for their future destinies.

And, a pair of supernatural beings would certainly become great godfathers.

Chapter Text

-Ten Years Later-

Venice.

Mrs. Mandorff, who was Venetian, returned home to Venice with her newborn baby in tow. During a turbulent and somewhat heated telephone call, Mr. and Mrs. Mandorff finally settled on a name.

Wilhelm.

A few weeks after countless state visits and appointments all-over Europe, the German chancellor, Mr. Mandorff, returned to Venice and finally declared the baby a true and rightful German boy, despite the baby being half-Italian. He ordered his secretary to post an online advertisement for a governess.

There was only one applicant, apparently.

Tedesco, as coerced by a musical fanatic named Aldo, had watched a screening of The Sound of Music in a dingy Sicilian movie theater years ago. He could certainly copy what he had witnessed back then. There is no harm in trying.

She wore a horrid, brown dirndl and affixed atop her graying, dark cropped hair, a battered straw hat. She held an old guitar case and a duffel bag, which has seen better days, on the other. Despite her pleasant and youthful looks, she held a deep scowl. Her shiny and glowing amber eyes were hidden by the unusual dark glasses she wore, which was unseemly with her entire look. Her flat shoes crunched upon the gravel pathway as she hurriedly made her way towards the front porch. She rang the doorbell twice just to be sure.

An old, well-kempt butler opened the massive front door.

“I’m Fräulein Maria. The new governess.” She said, a small friendly smile plastered upon her face.

She aced her interview with flying colors and Mrs. Mandorff led her towards the child that she’ll take care of. Or will try to take care of… by some crazy miracle.

“He seems like a lovely boy. Like a fresh lemon granita on a summer’s day.” The new governess smirked, as an unpleasant feeling stirred within her. It was probably the tight dress she chose to wear today.

Coincidentally, another new hire came around by the afternoon — a gardener.

Despite not being seen holding a shovel or heaving any gardening machinery, the Mandorff’s garden was truly envied by the entire neighborhood, as it was a sight to behold — akin to that of the Garden of Eden, so they say. The various plants, flowers, and trees just blossomed and bloomed, vibrant and lovely all-over.

When young Willi was big enough to walk and fumble about, he would always visit the friendly gardener first thing in the morning.

“This is Sister Butterfly.” The gardener said, as he held out the creature towards the child. “And this is Sister Firebug. Remember, Wilhelm, as you grow and learn more, our World is full of living creatures, big and small. They can teach you many things, so always love them with all your heart.”

“Fräulein Maria told me to stomp all living things under my foot, Mr. Georg.” Willi replied, eagerly watching the butterfly on his tiny palms, flap its colorful wings.

“Don’t listen to that young lady.” Mr. Georg whispered. “You only listen to me.”

During the late afternoons, Fräulein Maria would teach nursery rhymes to young Willi.

Evil incarnate and eternal darkness,

Boiling vermillion and suffering endless,

Immoral demons swinging bullwhips with stings,

These are a few of Hell’s favorite things.

and

High on a hill was Satan, The Devil,

RRAAAUUUGGHHH!

Loud was the voice of the Evil Incarnate,

AAARRROOOOOO!

Folks in a town that was quite aflame heard,

WRRAAAAAAAHHH!

Lusty and harsh from the Devil's throat heard,

GGGNNNAAAARRR!

”Mr. Georg told me to love all living things, big and small.” Willi said, as he was scribbling down his ABCs on a piece of brightly colored paper.

“Don’t listen to that man, piccolo.” Fräulein Maria whispered. “You only listen to me.”

And so it was thus.

Tedesco’s scheme is in full swing and has been wonderful. After a hard day of work, he and Aldo would meet in restaurants, theaters, the bus stop, to exchange their notes. They were quite delighted. They both smiled at each other.

When Willi was grown enough to go to school, Fräulein Maria left and Mr. Georg tendered his resignation letter on the same day. Both of them were great employees, Mrs. Mandorff noted, satisfied with their services.

Now, Willi found himself being taught by two new tutors.

Mr. Castellitto taught him about LaVey’s The Satanic Bible and the Roman Empire and its harsh political climate, its ever-standing rule all-over the world, and the leaders it has produced. He had a particular emphasis on the most nefarious ones, the likes of Nero and Caligula. He tried to teach Willi on creating rousing and mind-numbing political speeches to sway and convince people to his ideas, as wild as these may be.

Mr. Tucci taught him about Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci, the beauty of art, its natural connection with the human spirit and its reflection of the soul. He taught him about the wonderful people who had selflessly sacrificed themselves due to the pure goodness in their hearts, such as Mr. Rogers and Dolly Parton. He also had a particular emphasis on the phrase, “Do to others as you would have them do to you".

Coincidentally, both of his tutors would extensively read the Book of Revelations to him every single lesson.

Despite their greatest efforts, Willi had a particular inclination towards computers and math, which was unusual and disagreeable with the scheme. His tutors were not happy with this progress.

When Willi was nine years old, he liked to play chess. He also liked puzzles and Rubik’s cubes. He liked crosswords and trivia nights. He liked comic books, cartoons (particularly of the Japanese variant, which made both of his tutors groan in defeat), and especially, his red Schwinn bicycle.

This knowledge had Tedesco troubled, he felt that there was something afoot.

Rome.

Both of them were sitting on the Scalinata di Trinità dei Monti and in between them lay a crumpled brown paper bag filled with freshly baked biscottis. 

Tedesco finally dared to say what has been boggling his mind for all the nine years of their endless efforts.

“If you ask me, I think the child is too… normal.” Tedesco managed to whisper towards his counterpart.

Aldo grabbed a biscotti from the bag, nibbling it with gusto, and finally gulping down the last of his extremely sweetened black coffee.

“Well, that’s just my Good Influence working.” Aldo said, dusting off his lap with the remaining cookie crumbs.

“No… At this point, he should try to create a world in his own image, fueled by his own desires.” Tedesco replied, fiddling with his sunglasses. He then continued, “He wouldn’t even realize the changes that he is making. Have you noticed anything odd lately?”

Aldo shook his head in response, “Nothing in particular… No odd news in the morning papers or radio today.”

Tedesco clicked his tongue, dismayed by Aldo’s report or lack thereof. He began massaging his temples, frustrated by the absence of Evil Doings from the boy.

“He must be showing signs of his immense power, an evil force that is unstoppable. Is he showing any signs?”

“No, not that I’ve noticed…”

“È troppo normale!”

-He is too normal!

The demon snarled angrily. His hands burrowed deep into his wavy hair, into his scalp. His hair is now comparable to the mess inside his head.

Aldo glanced at his counterpart, a deep concern ached in his heart. He hated seeing his demon friend distraught, though he wouldn’t admit to it. Hoping to alleviate the growing frustration of the demon, Aldo patted Tedesco’s back to comfort him somewhat.

After a moment of quiet, Tedesco eventually piped up.

“I think there is something wrong, angelo. I don’t know what it is but I feel it.” The demon muttered softly, as he finally lifted his head, watching the numerous tourists climbing up the ancient steps. Aldo smiled at him.

“Think positive!” The angel exclaimed mirthfully, pocketing the brown paper for disposing later. Aldo then continued, “And look, it’s probably my Good Influence rubbing on him. He’s a growing boy, you should cut him some slack.”

“I just hope he can handle the hell-hound, ecco tutto.” Tedesco sighed, slumping his back and shoulders against the ancient steps.

“Hell-hound?” Asked Aldo.

“On his tenth birthday, I was informed by Hell through my television screen during ‘I Love Lucy’.” This was Tedesco’s favorite sitcom. Lucy began garbling out distorted noises during the replay causing Tedesco a mild discomfort despite watching his comfort series. He then continued, “They are sending him one, to be his guard and to protect him. He’ll be given the biggest one they’ve got.”

Aldo shook his head in disbelief, “The dog would be unusually big, probably gnarly-looking too. People would notice that, right?”

“Not really, on Earth, this is where reality is. People wouldn’t notice it at all. Young Willi can do whatever he wants to it, whether he realizes the true intent of his power or not.”

“Remind me again, when is this going to happen?”

“I just told you, on his tenth birthday. At three o’clock in the afternoon, the hell-hound would just find its way to its master. He should name it himself, molto importante. The name gives the hell-hound its purpose, like Flesh-eater or Killer, something like that.”

“And would you be attending his birthday party?” Aldo asked, as he stood up from the steps. He lent a hand towards Tedesco, to which the demon reached for.

“SÌ, I wouldn’t miss such event, angelo.” Tedesco replied, as he stood up, letting go of Aldo’s hand. He looked around his surroundings, admiring the morning sun shining down at the palazzo. He then sighed as he continued.

“I just hope that there is nothing wrong with the boy. We’ll just see it when he reacts to the hell-hound, whether he’ll get scared of it and leave it alone. If he does name it, we’ve lost. He’ll get all of his powers and voilà!! La Fine del Mondo. Armageddon.”

“You know what…” Aldo pondered momentarily, adjusting his beige coat, “I think I’ll see you at the birthday party.”

Venice, 02:37 p.m.

It was a hot summer's afternoon at the Mandorff Estate and Willi, as high and mighty as he was, is currently being treated like a king. 

It was his birthday today.

There were roughly fifty children running around the property and several men, dressed in three-piece suits and bearing earpieces, were in attendance.

The catering is being led by a stern, bespectacled old man. Despite the presence of children and tending to a high-profile birthday party, he is smoking fervently, as if his lips wouldn’t part with his red vape. He seemed stressed — very stressed. His fellow caterers were also whispering about the Ferrari he drove to get here.

The entertainment has been booked to a stage magician, last minute, oddly enough.

Everyone has their own hobbies and Aldo is no exception to that. Tedesco had protested the angel’s idea, however, he could not be thwarted.

Aldo was very proud of his magic skills. He had found the hobby intriguing and thrilling, so he scoured the entire world for the best practitioner of the art. In 1900, as he made his way back to America, he discovered a grand illusionist by the name of Harry Houdini. Then and there, he honed his skills with illusion, mentalism, teleportation, sleight-of-hand tricks, stunt performances, anything and everything he could learn from the illusionist.

He had gotten pretty good at it, however and disappointingly, he hadn’t performed in over a century. But that did not stop him from trying, he might still have it — somehow.

The children were watching him, their mouths agape, as their confused, little faces scrunched in disapproval. Tedesco, who was watching behind the buffet table, winced at the despicable performance unveiling before his eyes. It was an utter disgrace to the magic community.

“Now, giovani signore e signori! Can you see inside my old magic hat?” The Amazing Aldo asked the disinterested children to check out his hat, several of the younger kids complied and shook their heads. He then continued, “Niente! Nothing! But now, watch as I, with a little magic… Oh, look who it is! It’s our furry little friend, John the Rabbit!”

“You pulled it out of your pocket.” Willi pointed out matter-of-factly, causing several of the children to nod in agreement. A few of the children were already booing him. Kids are such brutal audiences.

“Oh, you are such a smart boy! You’ve uncovered my tricks, har har!” Aldo, trying to diffuse the situation, albeit terribly, chuckled and toyed with the stupid curly mustache he plastered on his face haphazardly. The children were apathetic to the blunder.

“You are a terrible magician. I wish we just watched some anime.” Willi whined, crossing his arms in retaliation.

“He’s right, you know.” A little girl piped up, adding more insult to injury. “You are terrible and probably gay.”

Aldo eyed Tedesco across the enclosed outdoor space, desperately begging him internally for help. It seems as though Willi has been tainted with a little bit of evil. A sudden appearance of a black dog would certainly help him so they could both get away from here.

“Please help me!” Aldo’s eyes widened.

“I cannot! I need to look for the hound!” Tedesco raised his eyebrows.

A little blonde girl, about five years old, began to speak loudly, “I had my birthday last month and I was given a pink pony doll and a pink tricycle and a Barbie Dreamhouse and a cute little poodle puppy and a…”

Tedesco groaned, slapping his forehead in sheer annoyance. He hates birthday parties. Especially children's birthday parties. And Aldo, being the sweet angel that he is, is still delighted despite his earlier mishap. If Hell’s force would coerce him, he must have pulled Aldo away from the small stage by now. Additionally, the children’s sharp giggles are giving him a proper migraine.

He tried looking everywhere for a sign, any disturbance from Hell. They could have sent anything by now, a small earthquake or a raven or something evilly symbolic. But, Tedesco felt nothing out of the ordinary — which was exceptionally odd. He checked his watch for the time, it was three minutes until 3 p.m., and he is getting impatient.

Aldo was getting more flustered by the second.

“And for my next trick, does anyone here have a handkerchief?” The Amazing Aldo asked the inattentive audience. His next trick needed one, as it would conveniently hide the dove, which was hidden in his coat sleeve. He then turned towards Tedesco, trying to get the demon’s attention, to which Tedesco ignored. The angel pouted in disappointment.

“You, Sir!” The angel then pointed towards the bodyguard nearest to him, “Can you please check your pant pocket? I think there’s a handkerchief in there.” The Amazing Aldo said, causing much discomfort to the bodyguard.

“I’m not allowed to take orders from anyone, Signore.” The bodyguard sternly replied, keeping himself still like a statue. Aldo huffed, still trying to convince the young man.

“Per favore, giovane, just check your pocket.” The angel begged pathetically. The bodyguard just rolled with it and dug into his pocket.

Much to the bodyguard’s surprise, there was certainly a handkerchief in his once empty pant pocket. However, as he pulled the handkerchief out of his pocket, Aldo noticed that the handkerchief got caught in the gun holster on the bodyguard’s hip. The military grade semi-automatic pistol flung into the air, landing inconveniently, in front of the birthday celebrant, who took it and ran rapidly around the outdoor tent.

“Hey! That was a pretty cool trick, magician!” Willi exclaimed, holding the gun up in the air, much to the horror of all the adults and much to the delight of all the children in the tent, who were starting to beg for their own guns.

“Uh-oh…”

“Hands up, dummköpfe!” Willi shouted, pulling the trigger towards Tedesco, who was busy looking out for a black dog. Aldo hurriedly snapped his fingers. Water suddenly squirted out of the gun, snapping Tedesco out of his focus.

“Merda!” Tedesco interjected, squeezing his now wet waistcoat. Aldo almost fainted, if it weren’t for a tiramisu slice flung on his face. He quickly snapped his fingers once more, turning all the guns into water guns.

It was five minutes past 3 p.m., there was no dog.

After the fiasco, Tedesco found Aldo in the parking lot, extracting the dead dove out of his coat sleeve. Aldo noticed his evil presence.

“Well, it’s late.” The angel noted.

“I can see that.” The demon replied, snatching the dove off of Aldo’s hands. He held his lips close to the bird, breathing new life onto it. The dove snapped awake and flew away from Tedesco’s hands.

“So, where’s the dog?.” Aldo pointed out as he tore off the fake mustache on his upper lip, leaving a red mustache-shaped rash on his pale face.

“We’ll see…” Tedesco said, as he entered his Ferrari, he turned on the radio. The Sinatras’ Somethin’ Stupid was playing… then it didn’t.

HELLO, TEDESCO.

“Ciao, who is this?”

DAGON, LORD OF THE FLIES, MASTER OF MADNESS. WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU TODAY?

“The hell-hound. I'm just checking if everything’s in order…”

IT WAS RELEASED TEN MINUTES AGO. WHY? DID IT NOT REACH ITS MASTER? IS THERE A PROBLEM?

“No, no. Everything is in order. Ahh, yes. I can see the dog now, ha ha! Such a very good dog, very big. Everyone is doing a great job down there. Nice talking to you, Dagon. Ciao!”

He then turned off the radio.

The two of them stared at each other. There was momentary silence between them, before a loud bang was heard somewhere in the Mandorff Estate.

“Oops, I may have missed one.” Aldo looked towards the estate and shrugged his shoulders.

“No dog.” Tedesco said.

“No dog.” Aldo echoed.

“Well, get in the car. We need to discuss this further.” The demon sighed tiredly, running his hand on his thick hair. He then continued, “And Aldo?”

“Yeah?”

“Clean that damned tiramisu off yourself before you get in my car.” Tedesco warned as he flung a clean handkerchief towards the angel, who caught with ease. Aldo beamed at his troubled friend.

“Aye aye, Capitano.”

Tedesco deeply sighed once more, "All these years we spent in Venice, watching over a different boy..." He then banged his forehead over the steering wheel, “Mamma mia, what have I done?”

The Ferrari then blasted out the ABBA hit over the car’s speakers. This caused Aldo to cackle, in spite of his demon friend. Tedesco began cursing the vehicle.

“Stai zitto! Siamo spacciati!”

-Shut up! We are doomed!

“Well, you told me it was him!” Aldo, despite his usually calm demeanor, exclaimed, wiping off the remaining tiramisu off his coat. He then hopped into the front seat.

“Yes, of course it’s him! I delivered the child to my people, The Satanist nurses!” Tedesco hissed back. He then further shared to Aldo his theory that there might be a third baby caught up in the mix. The Satanist nurses were quite, as he recalled, half-witted and disorganized. He also recalled that he nearly hit someone with his car. That night was a big blur to him.

“Now, what do we do?” Asked Aldo, securing himself with the seatbelt as Tedesco geared the car backwards.

“We just need to find the hospital, get the records and find the boy, facile. We’ll drive into the mainland, not far from here.” The demon explained, as he stepped down on the gas rather harshly. Aldo braced himself, tightly holding onto the seatbelt.

“Watch the road, you maniac! And now, what are you playing on the radio? I find it brash.”

“It’s the Rolling Stones, angelo.”

“Well, put it back to ABBA. I can’t hear myself think with that rock-and-roll garble.”

“Fine…” Tedesco did what he was told.

Rome, 03:05 p.m.

It was a hot summer’s afternoon at Parco Belvedere FornaciI and a quiet boy named Ray was waiting for his friends in the park’s playground.

It was also his birthday today.

He was busy scribbling on the leather-bound sketchbook his father gifted to him earlier this morning. Apparently, he had a gift for drawing. As he was humming to himself, he was sketching a fluffy gray dog.

He was so invested in his drawing, that he did not notice the weird presence encircling him. The rustling of the bushes, the snapping of branches, and the deep snarling did not scare the child for he cannot hear anything.

The hell-hound after running around the park finally found its master. It slowly approached the boy, who held out his finished drawing, eyeing it inquisitively. The hell-hounded observed the drawing.

“Dad promised me that he’ll give me a dog for my birthday.” The boy whispered into the air, the hell-hound listened intently. This is it, the hell-hound thought. Its master was contemplating on getting a dog. It was perfect timing. The boy then continued.

“But he didn’t. I hope I can get one. Like a Cairn Terrier, like this one I drew.” Ray mumbled, folding the drawing into quarters and stuffing it into his backpack. Ray sighed deeply, disappointed in the lack of a dog in his life.

He then pondered for a moment, as the hell-hound awaits its name, its purpose alongside its master.

“And I’ll call him Cane. It means dog in Italian.”

Suddenly, the hell-hound was stunned. Surely its master was quite young, but… Is that it? That will be its full life’s purpose? Something seems wrong, but the hell-hound didn’t delay anything further. It slowly patted out of the bushes, trotting down towards its master and fulfilling its destiny.