Witch of Endor

Ramming his boot into the door—Ishmael knocked it off its hinges—hurtling it across the conference room to knock over a group of demons.

Standing on the far left was the Witch of Endor, seemingly waiting on the Demon hunter. She was dressed in formal clothing, and glasses, and was adorned with long white hair.

The witch was surrounded by a group of demons who readied their weapons against their foe, willingly giving up their lives for the sorcerer.

"Look who we have here; the infamous Demon hunter, Ishmael, son of Lucifer himself." She was inhaling a cigarette before puffing out a cloud of smoke. "It's been quite some time, hasn't it? I haven't seen you since you were a toddler."

"Where is he, witch?" Ishmael glanced at the sorcerer, pulling out his firearm from its holster.

"Your father left this place long ago, he's too busy building the Morningstar."

"Morningstar?" There was a hint of surprise in his visage. "What does he plan to accomplish building such a thing?"

She took another puff of her cigarette, approaching the Demon hunter with a grin.

"L-Lady Jezreel!" The demons tried stopping her but were flung back by a powerful gust of wind.

"Morningstar will be the gateway to the underworld. He plans to connect the earthly plane with the spiritual, and merge this reality with Hell." She blew out a cloud of smoke, standing a few feet in front of him.

"And how will he do that?" Ishmael towered over the witch, his eye filled with pique. "My Father has grown weaker over time, I made sure of that."

"Pwa ha ha!" Jezreel laughed. "You merely prolonged the inevitable, boy!" She moved toward the table, sitting atop its surface. "You may have kept sin at its bare minimum by teaching humans right from wrong, and slaughtering demons everywhere you go, but eventually, evil will overpower good." She crossed her leg over the other. "And humans are naturally born of sin; it's only logical they'll fall back into their wicked ways."

"You haven't answered my question."

"Hmm?" Jezreel lifted her brows.

"Where is my Father?"

She laughed at his inquiry, tilting her head to the side with a smirk.

"He's north from here in Washington, living within a city known as Seattle."

Ishmael turned to face the door, ignoring the frightened demons.

"Oh? Leaving so soon?"

He came to a stop, standing in the doorway.

"What is it that you want?" Asked the Demon hunter in a monotone voice.

"There's more to what I told you."

Ishmael slightly lowered his head, curious.

"Go on."

"Your Father is naturally empowered by the sin of man, but that doesn't mean he's not strong on his own. Lucifer is using sorcery to bring forth the Seven Deadly Sins."

"..."

Ishmael went quiet, deep in thought.

"Yes, that's right; the Seven Deadliest Sins of mankind." She chuckled, enjoying his silence. "He will give form to their abstract ideas, and use them as a medium to finalize the Morningstar."

"He can try whatever he wants, in the end, his efforts are in vain."

The Witch of Endor hopped off the table, approaching the Demon hunter.

"You know you can't win, Ishmael." She stopped a few meters behind him. "The Seven Deadly Sins are the strongest demons in the world, not even God's army can stop them."

"Well, I'm not part of God's army."

He took his leave, exiting the conference room.

"My my, what an interesting young boy." She finished her cigarette—dropping it toward the ground. "I cannot wait to get my hands on him, and take that body for myself." She licked around her lips, tittering.

+

Ishmael left the Capital of Sodom, and headed toward his motorcycle, ignoring the demonic brutes that were molesting their human cattle.

Women screamed, men pleaded, and even children begged for them to stop their wicked behavior.

Ishmael was used to it all—hardening his heart to endure the wickedness of reality—but there were limits to his disregard.

"Aye, kid, why don't you follow me? I'm gonna show you a damn good time." A tall, blue, muscular demon, riddled with many spikes would talk to a small child in front of him. "I'm feeling a little hungry for young flesh, and you'll make the perfect appetizer! Kyehehe!"

"I-I can't do it, I have to get home and help my daddy." The child tensed up, terrified in her eyes.

"Huh?" The demon lifted its brows. "You think I give a shit about your daddy? In the end, you're our plaything, and you'll do whatever I say unless you want me scraping more flesh off your mother's bones!"

Ishmael walked past the commotion, bumping into the demonic brute.

"Huh?" It turned around, frowning at the demon hunter. "Hey, little man, watch where you're going! Get back here and apologize."

Ishmael stopped in his tracks, lowering his head with a smirk.

"Afraid I'll pass."

"What the hell you say to me?" It stomped over to the hunter, placing its gigantic hand on their head, "I should rip your goddamn head off— uwaaagh!"

The demon was suddenly lifted off the ground and flipped on its back, groaning.

"What the hell?"

"It's a shame that I'm part of your disgusting race." Ishmael pointed his revolver at their head, pulling the trigger.

A loud gunshot went off, scaring nearby humans who scattered like roaches.

The child could only watch with wide eyes, struck with disbelief, as Ishmael turned to face her, tossing the revolver at their feet.

"Take it." He muttered. "Use it to protect your mother." He paused, recollecting his memories. "I know what it's like to watch your loved ones suffer."

The child trembled, tearing up in her eyes.

"I-I don't know if I can do it!"

Ishmael turned around, proceeding toward his motorbike.

"Just do it for her sake, and don't be a slave to their system."

She widened her eyes, nodding at his words before picking up the revolver and running into an alleyway.

Ishmael returned to his motorcycle, watching the humans from afar peek their heads from the corners, and watch out their windows.

They were curious as to who this man was; seeing how easily he could take down a demon with little effort.

"..." Ishmael gazed upon their eccentric faces, and started his motorcycle, catching the attention of the child.

She was standing in the alleyway, peeking her head around the corner behind an adult.

"Thank you, mister!" She waved her hand as the adult kept the young child close; presumably her mother.

Ishmael couldn't help but have memories of his mom and reminisce about the past.

"Mm." He nodded and revved his motorcycle, adjusting the kickstand.

"Thank you..." The mother spoke up, smiling at the Demon hunter.

"It's no problem."

"If I may ask... what is your name?"

Ishmael was hesitant to answer her question, averting his gaze.

"My codename is Slayer, but you may call me Ishmael."

"Ishmael?" The mother widened her eyes, smiling wide as ever. "Thank you, Ishmael, you gave us protection, and helped my daughter. You have a bright soul, young man."

The Demon hunter nodded with silence, and finally took off, leaving the City of Sodom as the Mother and child waved.

His job here was done. Ishmael received enough information from the Witch of Endor to know of his Father's whereabouts and their plans.

Ishmael was somewhat informed about the Morningstar during his childhood. It was a Magical Formula where the sacrifices for the Gates of Hell would be offered. Its purpose was to merge the Netherworld with the Material World, allowing Lucifer to rule over both domains, simultaneously.

Sin would be at its most potent, and the Material World would be entirely separated from God, transforming the entire universe into Satan's playground.

Ishmael, and maybe even Angel-X, were the only people capable of stopping this catastrophe.

It was only a matter of time before the Devil owned all of God's creation for his own benefit.

Ishmael drove across the wasteland, accelerating through mutant territory, and burning magical fuel.

He could travel from California to Washington in a matter of hours if there weren't any pit stops.

With his Motorbike, Apollyon, it gave him access to unlimited fuel.

Since it was a motorcycle crafted with magical properties, it used negative emotions as fuel. Ishmael could adjust its speed and acceleration at any given time by controlling his negative emotions to either boost or decrease its speed.

It wouldn't be long until he confronted his Father.

+

"So… your men have failed to eliminate Ishmael once again, Mikha'el."

Standing within a dark room was a beautiful demon, adorned with devilish horns and formal attire fitting for royalty.

In front of him was a white-haired woman, twirling a dagger between her fingers.

"It seems so." She grinned, now stabbing the dagger into the table. "How interesting. This hybrid is something else! He could take out my elite soldiers with no effort." Leaning back into her seat, the woman crossed her legs. "Since Terry was the one who received the bounty from me, I'll just gather together newer soldiers who can do your bidding. They'll be stronger, faster, and smarter than the other group. Does that satisfy you, Astaroth?"

The demon smiled in the darkness.

"Yes, that'll do just fine. I'll do whatever it takes to destroy Ishmael, even if it means working with you humans."

"Good." Mikha'el smirked. "Then allow me to show you something."