Chapter Text
Stupidity. A weakness. An attribute that must be eradicated. It will be used against you, to alter your perceptions for their own desires.
A sinful characteristic.
I have been locked here for too long. Blessed chains scorch my flesh as I am surrounded in darkness. Curse those humans that entrapped me! Those men that believe to be enpowered by the word of their Lord, dare to trap me in this hellish cage. How long have I been here? Shall I be like Prometheus? Doomed to this torture till the very bitter end? These wounds that heal overnight, only to be teared open again? Will I be saved? Who? Hahaha~ That is the real question.
Who will be my Herocles?
"You are so good to us, Reverend."
"Please, I am still in training, I only wish to help." With bright smiles the young woman walked off, arms around her small boy, who looked back and waved happily. Steve watched the two, smiling as they disappeared around a corner.
"Always helpful, aren't you?" Steve turned to the robed figure. Immediately his face turned serious.
"Is there something wrong, Mr. Coulson?" Steve did not use the word "Brother". Not when he is working.
"Just a small matter, hardly anything like a world crisis, but He will like to see you in his office." With a nod, Steve left, black robes flapping slightly from the light breeze, cross swaying on a silver chain. As he neared, his thoughts ran back to the mother and her child. 'Reverend,' Steve scoffed in his head. 'Hardly.' Stepping into the office, Steve noted a plain manila folder lying on the mahogany desk, and immediately reached for it.
"So nice to see you." Steve retracted his hand at the voice. Stepping out from no where, Fury settled down into his chair, fixing his one eye up at the blonde.
"I was sent here." Steve said, standing tall. Fury looked at him, before taking the folder and opening it up.
"We got confirmation of a LaVeyan group hiding at the Club Revel." From the photos Fury tossed out onto the desk, Steve edged closer, seeing the pictures of hooded figures entering the side and back of the club. They were carrying sacks, some full and others empty.
"Satanists? Since when have we ever concerned ourselves with this?"
"Ever since they have started to claim they have something," Steve froze at Fury's words, causing him to continue. "Usually these people would only spread words, but this particular group have posted on the internet...strange videos." Fury then clicked the TV on, and Steve sucked in a breath. The video was grainy and dark, but the terrified whimpers of a young girl lying spread eagled on a stone slab and the sudden bright flashes of light were unmistake-able. It was like a horror movie, only more terrifying.
"This is not a fake?" Steve asked and Fury shook his head. Closing the folder, he handed it to Steve and sat back in his seat.
"The Church have asked for you to take care of it," Fury said as Steve nodded, heading towards the door. "Must make them look good, a member of the church going to eradicate the darkness." Steve paused, turning his head back with cool blue eyes.
"Darkness can never be destroyed," Steve said. "It can only be moved elsewhere." And with that he left, closing the door on the sound of a chuckle. No sleep for him tonight. Steve had work to do.
Steve was informed that the club closes at 3am. This gave him plenty of time for him to observe the layout of the building. It wasn't that large, and looked more like a simple pub than a modern nightclub. Steve walked in breifly only to walk out again. It was never his kind of environment, so he opted to stay in his car. As 3 o'clock came around, Steve perked up seeing a medium sized group of people approach the club, only to go round through the side door. They all wore dark hoodies that covered their faces, and two of them were carrying books. 'Should I go in now?' Steve thought to himself, when he jolted in surprise.
There was shattering glass as a window on the second floor of the building burst outwards, followed by a flash of light and...screams? Steve wasn't sure, and quickly stepped out of the car, grabbing his weapons materials from the backseat. He was surprised when he found the side door unlocked. 'Were they expecting me?' Steve thought as he entered and quietly walked up the stairs. It was quiet. Too quiet, and Steve could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest. Reaching the second floor, Steve turned and slowly approached a door that was slightly ajar. Carefully sliding his fingers into his belt, and clutching his cross in knuckled fingers, he drew out his gun. Stepping closer, the dim light in the room showed dark stains on the wall, a rusty colour as Steve took a breath.
Bursting into the room, he aimed his gun, cross held out at arms length. Eyes widening at the sight, he lowered both arms, looking at the unmoving bodies littered about the floor. There were eight of them, and each had a large cut in their left hand. Books and papers littering the dirty wooden floor, and a pentagram was painted on the floor in red, a single word etched into the centre. Steve peered at the scraggly letters, recognising the Latin word.
"Awaken." Steve muttered to himself, and then he heard a loud crash coming from downstairs and footprints getting louder. Looking around, Steve quickly dived to a closet, closing it to leave a small crack as the figure barged in.
"What? They started without me?! Really?!" A young man's voice whined. Steve saw the figure approach the pentagram, bending down. Straightening up, Steve saw the glint of a knife, before it pressed into flesh. Hearing the gasp of pain, Steve was about to jump out and help when he heard laughter.
"It is time for a new power," The man said as he stepped into the centre of the pentagram. "Awaken!" As he read the final word the pentagram glowed, before a force knocked Steve back, head banging against the back of the closet. Shaking his head briefly, Steve peered out of the crack before stepping out. All the bodies were gone, including the man that only just came in. 'Nine bodies,' Steve thought to himself as he looked around the floor. 'Nine Satanic Sins.' A groan came from the other side of the room, and Steve whirled around, gun and cross in hand.
It was a blank wall when Steve walked in, he was sure of it. Nothing prepared him for the sight in front of him. Hanging from a network of bloody chains was the figure of a man, panting and groaning in pain. A pair of horns protruded from his forehead, and the figure was naked and bloodied. As Steve neared closer, the head lifted, eyes glassy from pain. It opened it's mouth, a raspy voice coming out that Steve strained to hear.
"...Is that you, Herocles?"