Fox: New Bar and Finding Titus

 Fox kept tapping his pack of cigarettes against the counter.

“You know, tapping it on the counter longer doesn't make more cigarettes magically appear,” Knox said.

“There's a first time for everything,” Fox replied, crumpling up the pack and tossing it into the trashcan next to the bar. He was surrounded by books and making notes.

“Not that I'm not glad to see you, but don't you usually spread out like this over at Gus's?” Knox said, setting another beer in front of him. Fox held up his pencil, pausing in thought.

“I'm avoiding some people,” Fox replied, still staring at the page.

“Angry woman that's going to bust in and cause a scene? Or angry people with weapons that are going to tear up my bar?” Knox asked.

“Technically this is Wilson's bar.”

Knox narrowed his eyes.

“Okay. Okay. You can call it whatever you want,” Fox said in a miserable attempt to assuage Knox. Knox polished a glass and put it away.

“Where is Wilson anyway?” Fox asked.

“On some hunt with Lucas.”

“For what?”

“Hell if I know. Those two never tell me anything useful.”

“There women involved?”

“Probably. Those two are the only ones I know worse than you.”

Fox was looking over a page in the book.

“Does Titus still live in the area?” he asked without looking up.

“Ya, he still lives over at that shitty complex on Brocade Circle,” Knox started then paused.

“This more of that demon shit?” Knox asked. Fox held up his pencil.

“Okay. First of all, you call everything supernatural “demon shit.” There are categories, and most of it does not involve demons,” Fox replied.

“And this?”

“Definitely demon shit.”

Knox sighed.

“Why can't you white boys ever leave this shit alone?”

Fox pretended not to hear him for a moment.

“There been anything strange on the news?”

“Stranger than the assholes we keep electing?” Knox replied.

“Ya. Stranger than that.”

“Was something weird about a bunch of people getting the shakes down in the CBD. Said they was cold, then hot, then couldn't walk on their own. People don't know what's causing it,” Knox reported.

“There video?”

Knox pulled out his phone and found one of the videos from downtown. Fox watched it, scrolled back and forth, then paused.

“There it is,” Fox said, handing it back to Knox.

“There's what?”

“See that little purple flicker right before that woman falls?”

Knox flicked through the video. His eyes widened.

“Just something wrong with the camera, right?”

“You know that ain't what happened. There's a demon down there making those people sick.”

“And you're going to go get it?”

“Not before I know what I'm dealing with. Which is why I'd like to confer with Titus.”

“He might not be home,” Knox said. Fox looked at him. Knox broke and smirked.

“He's Titus. Where else would he be?”

Twenty minutes later, Fox was knocking on the door of a nondescript apartment building in a lower middle class part of town. Titus loved for his surroundings to be simple and bland. After a few moments, Titus yanked the door open three inches, peering out with a pair of sharp scissors in hand. He looked at Fox for a long moment.

“Your new security measure?” Fox asked.

“You can never be too careful,” Titus replied and walked away from the door, leaving it ajar. This was Titus' way of saying 'come in, if you must.' Fox walked in to immediately maneuver around newspapers, magazines and what looked to be dozens of printed academic articles. Fox looked around at the floor. Magazines included Occult Digest, Mainstream Monthly, and myriad other random topics. The books were just as haphazard. Clippings from the newspapers were piled in folders. Fox could pick out pieces about ancient archaeological digs, high profile business dealings, astronomy, astrology, stock prices and updates on international trade agreements. Fox picked up a folder to clear a space to sit.

“Do I come into your home and start moving things around?” he could hear Titus from what he assumed was the kitchen.

“You never leave your home, so no,” Fox replied.

“Point still stands.”

“Just as charming as ever.”

“I don't recall inviting you over.”

“It's about what's happening,” Fox answered.

“Which thing? Top government officials meeting in deep forests in England for seances to choose their next leader? More metals being shipped up to the military base on the moon? Hidden relics from ancient crash landings on our planets?” Titus rattled off as he dug into a carton of chocolate fudge cookie dough ice cream, becoming more agitated with each sentence and mouthful.

“Anything on demonic activity?” Fox asked.

“Oh. That,” Titus sighed.

“That not exciting enough for you?”

“It's just that that's what you're always about. I was hoping you'd opened your eyes to other truths,” Titus said.

“Like the Earth being flat?”

“Now you're just being ridiculous.”

Titus took another scoop out of the carton. “So what is it this time? Run away doppelganger? Cursed object? Another possession?” Titus asked. Silence followed. Titus looked up through his thick circular glasses. Fox was not one for ceremony, nor was he one that took a long time to say what he needed.

“What happened?” Titus asked, his force rimming with concern.

“The Seal's been broken.”

“The bathroom's right over there.”

“What? No. The Seal of Solomon.”

“That's not real.”

“It is real. And it just happened.”

Titus walked over to the glowing contraption that was his computer. He began typing and clicking, occasionally looking over at Fox with suspicious glances.

“Sudden illnesses in New Orleans. Religious revival in Topeka, Kansas. Riots in Baltimore. Gang fights in Chicago. All in all just another day in the good ol' U. S. of A. But there could be a pattern here,” Titus said as he jotted down some notes. He stopped for a moment and looked at Fox.

“You're serious? THE Seal of Solomon?” Titus asked. Fox nodded.

“It was still intact all this time? Where was it?” Titus pressed.

“Near as I can tell, the Templars had it.”

“Those shady bastards! Secretly manipulating our elections AND they had the Seal all this time?”

“You know the Templars don't control the government, right?”

“Well, not technically. They take their marching orders from the Illuminati of course.”

“Can we focus?”

“You just told me the Doomsday door has been opened. Trust me, I'm razor focused. So how many are loose?” Titus asked, still typing and eating ice cream.

“All of them.”

Titus choked.

“All of them? All seventy-two?!”

“Well, one is still trapped it seems.”

“Oh good. Well that's a relief. So there's only seventy-ONE arch demons from the ancient world loose on Earth.”

“Exactly. No problem,” Fox smirked. Titus was not smiling.

“We're all going to die.”

“We're not all going to die. We just have to figure out how to contain them and seal each one back up.”

“Each one?”

“Yep.”

“Each Duke or Earl of Hell?”

“Those ones. Yes.”

“Are you nuts?”

“I'd have to be at least a little to agree to go after these things. Can you help me?”

Titus had not blinked for several moments.

“I'm going to need to go to a few libraries. Mathers, Regardie, Sumner and Crowley all did a heavy amount of research on these heavy hitters, but they all drew their research from older sources. This is going to take some time. You know that, right?”

Fox nodded.

“Just call, message, whatever. As soon as you know anything. I'll have Matriax keep his eyes and ears peeled to see what pops up that matches who we're looking for while you're researching,” Fox said, getting up. Titus cleared his throat. Fox put the folder back where it was on the couch.

“You're really going to bring him into this?”

“If there's any weird chatter going on outside mainstream channels, he'll know about it,” Fox said, heading for the door.

“How many shut ins do you know?” Titus asked as Fox reached the door.

“More than I realized apparently,” Fox replied, leaving into the uncertain night.

Titus' apartment was unkempt and always had a certain bachelor professor vibe to it. Matriax' lair (Fox could never bring himself to call it an actual home) was painted black on the inside. The interior was decorated with Christmas lights, lava lamps and black lights that lit the area and showed off the splatters of different colored glow in the dark paint and melted wax that Matriax had cast around the house while lost in thought.

What appeared to be a standard chain link fence was electrified. Everything on the property was video monitored for one-hundred yards before even reaching what one assumed was the front yard. Matriax was at his reclining throne, staring at six different monitors. Three were showing various videos. The one in the bottom center was scrolling down some unnamed text based website. The other two had collections of photos that seemed to be compared to something on another software at the moment.

“Greetings mortal,” Matriax said without looking away from the screen.

“Matriax,” Fox nodded. The door had opened automatically after Fox had buzzed.

“You require information,” Matriax said.

“I need eyes,” Fox answered.

“Eyes are another method of acquiring information. Senses, interfaces for data acquisition,” Matriax began. Fox held up a hand.

“I get the idea. Some weird stuff is about to happen. Bad things,” Fox opened.

“At any given moment, rapes, murders, wars, bus collisions, bombing, violent protests and bloody battles are happening the world over. Please redefine bad things and weird stuff.”

“Apocalyptic. End of days. Hellfire. Mass hysteria. Dogs and cats living together,” Fox rattled off. Matriax paused his typing. Touching a button next to his extra large slushy, the recliner spun until he faced Fox. He was silent for a slow three count, blinked twice, then began speaking.

“What happened.”

After a brief explanation, Matriax turned his chair back toward his monitor.

“Titus will acquire data on enemy. You will want me to locate said enemy,” Matriax said. He never asked questions, he simply stated what he saw as the obvious conclusion of a conversation. If you could call talking with Matriax a conversation.

“Er... yes.”

“This is the best use of existing resources. Acquire your weapons and your soldiers. You will need help to face this threat,” Matriax said.

“No. I'm not dragging anyone into this. I'm going to handle this on my own,” Fox replied. Matriax turned his chair again to face Fox.

“These are arch-demon lords of the ancient world. Much damage and hurt will be caused. Many will die. Many more if you fail. You have exact methods for defeating each opponent?”

“No, but Titus will-”

“Titus will gather information about each opponent. You have faced and defeated multiple similar opponents in rapid succession in the past?”

“I... well, no. Nothing like this has ever been on Earth in about three-thousand years,” Fox stammered.

“Then you will need assistance. I can begin sending messages right away,” Matriax said, turning back toward his work.

“No. I'll... I'll make some calls.”

“We will both make calls. You will need an army to face this.”

“I think Conrad is already gathering an army...” Fox said.

“So what have you got for me?” Fox asked.

“This isn't a take out menu,” Titus replied, his voice crackling in and out from where ever he was calling.

Fox exhaled, letting the smoke trail out of his apartment window into the warm night air.

“Look, I know I've given you a hard time in the past,” Fox began.

“Oh, that stopped?” Titus replied.

“One, you give back as good as you get. You're pretty ornery yourself,” Fox said.

“I just don't like people,” Titus said.

“Anyway, I need what you're doing. Normally I'd do it myself, but there just isn't time. And if the research is wrong, I'm dead. So I appreciate what you're doing, and at least until this is over, I probably shouldn't piss you off,” Fox said.

“You should never piss me off. My wrath is swift and terrible,” Titus said.

“Your wrath is a long angry email,” Fox replied. Silence.

“So we were about to pick out which demon lord you wanted to kill you?” Titus said at last. Fox smirked.

“Ya. That.”

“There's Forgas the Strong. He's apparently got sigils burned into his skin that make him resilient to harm and extremely strong,” Titus read off.

“So a bruiser that can take a lot of damage. Sounds like something for brute force. I'll let the Templars handle that one,” Fox answered.

“Okay... there's Avnax of the Great Flame,” Titus began reading.

“I wonder if that's the one the Templars went up against,” Fox muttered.

“So they've already been fighting these things?” Titus asked.

“Yes. But not well. If it was Avnax, it killed half their team,” Fox reported. Titus was quiet a moment.

“You realize any one of these creatures can kill you? A lot. And easily,” Titus said.

“I'm not out there hunting for sport. If I don't do this, lots of people die,” Fox replied.

“True. Okay, so Avnax?” Titus asked.

“Do you have any info on how to contain or defeat him?”

“Nothing I'm seeing.”

“Could you do a little more research on that one?” Fox asked. Titus looked over the table of ancient books.

“Yeah. I'll just wave my hands over the books and see what happens,” Titus replied.

“Why aren't you looking any of this up online?”

“Because if someone put it online, it's likely not accurate. Nothing like this has been written about in over a hundred years,” Titus replied.

“I do have one that I've got some solid info on,” Titus said.

“Oh?”

“Raüm of the Ruin.”

“Sounds pleasant.”

“None of these guys are nice.”

“So what's his shtick?”

“Shtick? Seriously? These aren't carnival performers. These are ancient, powerful, proud, killing machines.”

“Hey. I get it. I'm keeping it light so I'm not constantly thinking about all the ways these demons can eviscerate me, okay?” Fox answered. Titus was quiet a moment.

“Fine.”

Titus took another few moments.

“Raüm lies in the realms between the shadows and the endless wastes. His is the power of entropy and of laying waste the buildings and dignity of Man.”

“That sounds... permanent.”

“You're going to need an ankh. Preferably one of silver and gold. You'll also need citrine for protecting your vitality, otherwise Raum will drain the life out of you, and carnelian for protecting yourself from his other attacks. Then seal him back within his designated seal.”

“There's no way to banish him entirely?”

“We'd need a heavier hitter than you to pull off that spell.”

“That's just rude,” Fox chuckled.

“Okay. The stones I've got. Where am I going to get an ankh of gold and silver?”

“So much has changed with the passing of the ages. Once, I would have wiped out a village and had to wait weeks before the next village would even know. Now... within moments you have alerted the entire countryside. It's truly impressive how you little crickets can chirp to each other so quickly now,” Raum said, his voiced echoing off the crumbling walls.

“I gather you thought you had so much worthwhile to share before the seventy-two awoke once more,” he finished.

“Not really...” Fox replied.

“So you are a champion of these people? No one has come seeking me so far,” Raum asked. He sounded genuinely intrigued.

“They don't know me. And I'm going to try my best to stop you,” Fox replied.

“You don't speak like a champion. You don't sound convinced,” Raum said.

“I'm never convinced until the battle's over.”

The eyes of the raven flickered with rippling shadow. Streaks of entropy streaked through the air toward Fox. Fox held up the ankh, deflecting the blast. The raven flapped its wings and flew into the shadows as Fox through a handful of white powder that exploded into white flame, flashing and burning away on the stone Raum had just been perched on. Fox ducked into a nearby alleyway, searching for his quarry.

“A magi is it? No muscle bound hero with enchanted weapons?” Raum asked, his voice echoing overhead.

“Hey, I've been working out a little,” Fox argued. He could hear Raum's laughing from somewhere nearby.

“Quite the cavalier attitude when facing on of the ancient host,” Raum voice sounded.

“Can't take life too serious. It doesn't last forever,” Fox said.

“You've no idea,” Raum said, his voice sounding very tired. Fox frowned.

“You do this out of boredom?” Fox asked.

“You have no idea what the eons do to the mind...” Raum said. Fox turned and ran. He could hear what sounded like hissing steam. He turned back to see paint peeling from walls and dust crumbling from nearby walls. He turned and held the ankh up just as a blast of entropy knocked him to the ground.

With the sound of flapping wings, Raum appeared at Fox's side. A man with obsidian skin, yellow eyes, black wings, and long clawed fingers. He swept for Fox. Fox dropped to the ground then skidded as Raum kicked Fox in the midsection, knocking the wind out of him. Fox coughed as he stood, taking out his two wands.

“You cast magic with two wands? That's interesting. But won't save you if we're fighting hand to hand!” Raum said and charged forward. Fox held the wands like clubs, deflecting Raum's blows and striking him in rapid succession to the head and midsection. Raum's eyes went wide as Fox continued to move and pummel his opponent. Raum moved to the side and struck Fox in the chest, only to have his claws spark off of an orange light.

“Citrine?!” Raum screamed. Fox grinned and went back onto the attack, forcing Raum to back peddle until Raum was backed against a wall. Then Fox stepped back.

“You never let up on an opponent until the fight is over,” Raum warned. Fox nodded, panting.

“The fight is over,” Fox replied. Raum's eyes narrowed and he stepped forward, only to find his way barred. He pressed again against an invisible barrier, then shrieked.

“No!” Raum yelled and hammered his talons against the barrier again. He looked down and cleared the dust from the copper square beneath him with the goetic circle engraved upon it.

“Can you kill me?” Raum asked, not looking up.

“I honestly don't know. But my plan was just to bring you back,” Fox said. Raum shook his head.

“If you can. Kill me. It would be a mercy,” Raum said. He looked up to meet Fox's gaze. Fox could see pleading in those eyes.

“I said I would bring you back-” Fox began.

“I've been trapped for eons. We all have. It's maddening. It's soul crushingly boring. Release or destroy me. Please do not imprison me again,” Raum pleaded.

“You've killed all these people for nothing. You don't get to appeal to my better self. And I'm not releasing something so destructive into this world. Not ever,” Fox replied. Raum sighed, shrinking back into his raven form.

“Once within thine circle, I can grant thee a boon desired,” Raum said. Fox tilted his head.

“You've read the old lore,” Raum said.

“What's he talking about?” Fox asked moments later with Titus on the phone.

“The ancient goetic demons are bound by the sigils of Solomon. Once within the circle, they are compelled to grant a request to whoever bound them,” Titus said.

“Like a genie?” Fox asked.

“The djinn are cousins to demons...” Raum said.

“You're not really thinking of asking him for something are you?” Titus asked.

“I've never had a genie before...” Fox said, mystified.

“It's dangerous. And probably a bad idea,” Titus said.

“And if the Templars just use the wish instead?” Fox said.

“It is not a wish, it is a boon. I am not a genie,” Raum answered, getting testy.

“And this isn't Aladdin. That thing tried to kill you, and did kill hundreds of other people,” Titus reminded.

“All the more reason this shouldn't all go to waste,” Fox said with a smirk.

“You are the worst,” Titus replied. Silence.

“Do whatever. Just call me whenever you find another demon lord you're about to stick into a lamp,” Titus said.

“Quick question, does it say what sort of boons he grants?” Fox asked.

“Raum? Um...” Titus began, leafing through some pages on the other end of the phone.

“Treasures of kings,” Titus said.

“Got it,” Fox said.

“Hey, if you're getting kingly treasure, I better be getting paid for this!” Titus yelled when Fox hung up.

A few hours later, Fox delivered the unhappy demon lord to the Templars.

“I'm surprised you showed up,” Conrad said.

“We are very grateful for your help. You are the first one to return successful,” Arthur said with a benevolent smile.

“You're also the first one to return at all...” Conrad said.

“Things not going well out there?” Fox asked.

“No,” Conrad answered.

“Who else have you reached out to?” Fox asked.

“The Sol Invictus,” Conrad answered.

“They're good. They'll be a huge help. What about the Hospitallers?” Fox asked. Conrad bristled.

“Look, I know you don't get along, but-”

“Don't get along? They tried to hunt us to extinction. They worship the word of a single man and obey his every whim,” Conrad growled. Fox held up a finger.

“They believe that man is the vicar of God, as do about a billion other people,” Fox reminded. Conrad snorted.

“Besides, they've got well trained people. That, and we're not going to be able to keep this a secret from them,” Fox added. Arthur nodded.

“He is right. And we will need every ally-”

“The Hospitallers are no ally,” Conrad cut off. Arthur cleared his throat and looked at Fox.

“In any case, the Hospitallers are unlikely to be receptive to any entreaties from us,” Arthur said. He looked at Fox expectantly.

“Oh crap...” Fox groaned.

“He is not speaking on our behalf,” Conrad cut in.

“He is not. But he can still try to enlist their aid,” Arthur said.

“I never said I was chummy with them,” Fox protested.

“But you are on better terms with them than we are,” Arthur said. Fox sighed.

“Great.”

Later that evening, Fox returned to his downtown apartment. The sigils of Raum had been placed on the door and windows, just in case. He set down his coat and turned on his stereo to play some relaxing jazz. He opened up the door to his spare room and watched the gold coins spill out into the hallway. He pulled out his phone.

“Do you know anyone that can fence ancient gold treasure?” Fox asked.

“You didn't...” Matriax replied.