Asleep in Nara, Part 14 (Finale)

This entry, set in Nara, Japan, continues the story of Sebastian’s Faustian deal with the demon Persephone.

A quick synopsis for new readers (spoilers for previous chapters, obviously):

Sebastian, an embittered American studying abroad, has stumbled into a ten-year deal with Persephone, a crossroads demon. The terms are simple: she saved his life, and he owes her ten years of service killing other demons. Sebastian’s role is to assume the mantle of Charon, Hell’s hitman. Persephone hasn’t told Sebastian how she selects her targets or why.

Persephone’s weapon of choice, a katar, is cursed and demonic in origin. Death by the blade immediately sends a soul, including demons’ souls, to Hell. But there are rules, of course. A demon cannot kill with the katar, so a human wielder is necessary. That’s where Charon comes in.

While Sebastian is new to this role, Persephone has been at work for centuries. She was in Nara, Japan, on a vacation of sorts (whatever those look like for demons), and instead she recklessly got the previous Charon killed. His name was Ken, and he was more than just a partner to her.

Persephone, enraged, unbalanced, has been on an ill-advised killing spree. She bears no attachment to Sebastian and in fact resents him. He was a convenient means to an end: vengeance against the demon who killed Ken.

But Persephone’s bloodlust wasn’t sated. She learned that Ken’s ashes were interred by Inoue, a rich man living outside of Nara, and what’s more, the man was also a demon. In the process of the hunt, Sebastian, overcome by the call of the katar, tried to seize the weapon from Persephone. His palm was cut open, his knuckles broken, and his body set on fire.

Sebastian survived and found Persephone by the murdered Inoue as she mourned at Ken’s grave. Sebastian had the opportunity to kill Persephone, but in her time of mourning, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He turned and walked away, leaving the katar behind.

Regretting his decision to leave Persephone alive, Sebastian hatched a plan to summon and bind Persephone in a devil’s trap he etched into a crossroads. Nothing went exactly according to plan. He inadvertently summoned a Japanese demon, the mikoshi-nyūdō.

Persephone showed up in time to bail Sebastian out, but in the process the mikoshi-nyūdō devoured her arm and leg. While the demon was distracted, Sebastian slew the monster with the katar.

Now, still determined to get out of his deal, Sebastian has dragged Persephone into the devil’s trap he set. She’s stuck there until he breaks the trap, and he won’t break the trap until Persephone breaks the deal. This is the final showdown.

I’ve included one final song. The link is time-stamped to skip the slow wind-up and bit of talking in the beginning. Trust me, though, this is the right version. Think of this song as playing during the credits of a movie. Once you’ve finished reading, I’m strongly recommending that you watch the remainder of the video.

This is the finale, dear readers. May it bring you some closure, but most importantly, may Persephone haunt you as she has haunted me.

As always, you can find the previous chapters here:
Part 1 (Meet Sebastian Pilgrim)
Part 2 (A Flirting Fail)
Part 3 (The Nameless Dead)
Part 4 (The Hunt)
Part 5 (A Fine Night for Murder)
Part 6 (Death and Rebirth)
Part 7 (Devil’s in the Details)
Part 8 (Habits, Old and New)
Part 9 (Adrift)
Part 10 (Went Down to the Crossroads)
Part 11 (Crossing and Dwelling)
Part 12 (Return to the Crossroads)
Part 13 (Mikoshi-nyūdō)

Persephone couldn’t believe Sebastian had been resourceful enough to figure out a devil’s trap. She really couldn’t believe he had the gall to trap her in one. Her hand banged against the invisible wall. Once inside, she couldn’t even scrape away the etchings in the dirt underneath her. It was like being trapped inside an infinitely tall glass placed right on top of the scrawled devil’s trap. She sighed and slumped her back against the barrier.

Persephone regarded Sebastian, now smoking a cigarette with his katar hand, mimicking her exact pose from earlier. She told herself he still looked like a country bumpkin, despite the exotic weapon. In fact, no, being stuck in Sebastian’s devil’s trap wasn’t like being stuck in a glass at all; it was like being stuck in a mason jar. All the boy needed now was a hickory stump and a fiddle made of gold to complete the picture.

“Devil’s in the House of the Rising Sun, huh?” Persephone asked.

“It’s Land of the Rising Sun,” Sebastian corrected her, thinking she was referring to Japan.

She smirked, amused he had missed the reference to his own culture. Globalization was such an amazing process.

“Of course,” Persephone said, still smirking. “So how do you think this ends?”

“It ends when you let me out of this deal,” Sebastian said. “When you and I go our separate ways.”

“And never the twain shall meet,” Persephone added wistfully.

He understood the basic meaning, but Sebastian wasn’t familiar with this phrase either. He chose to ignore it, realizing Persephone was toying with him. Getting distracted was not an option. He needed to renegotiate the terms of the deal exactly right and not be thrown off by some clever devil.

“You lured me into this deal. You tried to kill me. Then you got your Yakuza demon buddy to--”

“He was not my buddy,” Persephone interrupted.

“Right, whatever,” Sebastian said. “The point is I was under duress and in no state to make a deal.”

Persephone cackled. “Under duress? What do you think this is? A court of law? This ain’t the good old American legal system, Charon.”

“My name is Sebastian.”

“Sure it is.”

“I want my life back,” he growled.

“No,” Persephone said.

“You made the deal. You can break it.”

“Maybe,” Persephone said. “I’ve never tried, but you’re not the first to ask.”

“Well, you’re stuck there now. And I’m happy to leave you in that trap until you bleed to death.”

Persephone laughed. “I’m a demon, dummy. I could possess even a corpse.”

She didn’t fill in the details about needing to be compatible with the host, but she wasn’t wrong, provided the corpse was fresh enough. If Sebastian left her in that trap, she would sit there until the end of time, never dying. More likely, someone else would come along eventually and set her free. Then, she could find a new body. Sebastian had presumed to have far more leverage than he really did.

“But what about Inoue?” Sebastian asked. “You killed him without the katar. He bled out, right?”

“I’m not a soulbound demon, you putz.”

“What?”

“Look, I’m not explaining demonology to you,” Persephone said. “What incentive do I have? We can sit here until Judgment Day for all I care.”

“Funny to hear a demon speak of Judgment Day,” Sebastian said.

“It’s just a human expression.”

Sebastian grabbed a new cigarette and paced. He thought he had planned so carefully. The long-neck demon had been a surprise, but even that had turned out in his favor. Maybe he could use his performance against the demon to help his case? But how? Hey, I performed great! Set me free now? Yeah, that didn’t seem likely to work… But maybe…

“Two years!” Sebastian blurted out. “Including time already served.”

“What?” Persephone asked.

“Reduce my term to two years.”

“Hah! No. Ten,” Persephone said.

“Five years? I’ll work twice as hard.”

“Ten.”

“Ugh! You have got to be kidding me!”

Sebastian grabbed the sides of his head and tugged on his hair. He kicked at the dirt and sent great dust clouds flying. Persephone was glad to see him frustrated. She had all the time in the world. All she had to do was stay level.

“You’re a terrible negotiator!” Sebastian yelled.

“It’s cute you thought this was a negotiation,” Persephone replied.

“What if I just kill you then?” Sebastian said, wheeling around to face her, his face contorted in a desperate rage. He rotated his wrist to flash the blade--the same intimidation trick he’d learned from Persephone when she hunted him in Nara Park.

“Are you hoping that will nullify the deal?” Persephone asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Yes,” Sebastian said. He didn’t really want to kill her, especially seeing her in her current pathetic state. But she wasn’t making this easy, and he was running out of options.

“That’s an interesting theory,” Persephone said. “Again, no one’s ever pulled it off.” She narrowed her eyes. Her mouth set in a flat, straight line.

“There won’t even be a body left,” Sebastian said. “You’ll be dust, and I’ll walk free.”

“What do you think will happen in ten years, then, hm?” Persephone asked. She didn’t know the answer, either, but Sebastian didn’t need to know that.

“I’m willing to find out,” he said.

Persephone pushed herself up with her left hand and bowed her chest out defiantly.

“Try me,” she said.

Sebastian set his feet, preparing to charge. If he was going to do this, he would have to strike fast. He knew how dangerous she could be, and he didn’t dare underestimate her under any circumstances, even if she was down an arm and a leg.

Persephone, resting on her left butt cheek, drew her knee close to her chest. She had to lean to the side, as her entire body was weighted to the left now. She refused to stand up and make herself a bigger target. No, she would stay low and as small as possible, forcing Sebastian to dive onto her from above. He would have to meet her at her level.

Sebastian realized what Persephone was doing. He circled around her to get a better angle, hoping to catch her from the side or maybe even from behind. But Persephone was fast. She planted her palm into the ground and spun like an off-balance crab. He would have to face her head-on.

Sebastian rushed forward, katar out to the side, at the ready. He wished the monster had taken the limbs on Persephone’s left side. Then he would have a clearer path to stab the blade into her side. As it stood, she had both an arm and a leg to catch the blade, and if the blade stuck in a non-vital appendage, Sebastian knew he was doomed.

At the last moment, just as Sebastian was about to break the plane of the devil’s trap, with all these battle tactics racing through his mind, he crossed the blade in front of his chest. He intended to swipe it down and across like a knife. He would attack from Persephone’s weak side, hoping to catch her in the throat and end the fight quickly.

As the blade tore through the invisible barrier, Persephone heaved herself to the left side of her prison. Sebastian had anticipated move and repositioned. That move, however, gave Persephone just enough room to work.

She grabbed his right wrist, digging in with a death grip, and leaned backwards, drawing him toward her. Bewildered, but seeing an opportunity as Persephone pulled the katar toward herself, Sebastian tried to swipe the blade, but he no longer had control of his arm. It was trapped in Persephone’s grasp now.

With her left leg, Persephone propelled herself backwards with all the force she could muster. As she rolled, her foot connected with Sebastian, hitting him in the groin. She launched him into the air. He caught a glimpse of the wrath in her eyes as he flew over her. She dug her fingers more tightly into his wrist.

Persephone’s body curled backwards along her spine, like an armadillo, until all her weight rested on the back of her neck. As Persephone’s foot hit the invisible barrier above her head, she pushed off again, and rolled forward, tightening her core as she tried to snap back into the fetal position.

Even as Persephone curled forward, the inertia of Sebastian’s flying body dragged her backwards to the invisible barrier. Still she held fast to his wrist. Sebastian’s body could fly freely through the devil’s trap from any direction. Persephone, however, could not.

As Persephone’s back collided with the edge of the devil’s trap, she twisted Sebastian’s wrist as hard as she could. Mid-air, Sebastian’s flight came to a sudden halt. His body convulsed with all the force of being hit by a truck.

When his limp form hit the ground behind her, Persephone let go. Sebastian’s shoulder was dislocated. One of the long bones of his forearm was broken, piercing through the skin.

Sebastian had dropped the katar inside the devil’s trap. Persephone scooped it up and spun around to face the crumpled Sebastian.

“Any other great ideas, genius?” she asked as she adjusted her grip on the katar. She felt a little less confident with the weapon in her left hand, but it wasn’t totally foreign there.

“Jesus Christ, what kind of judo crap was that?” Sebastian asked.

His head was swimming, and his left hand was hovering over the radius extruding from his right forearm, afraid to touch it and too fascinated not to. The shock was so great his brain hadn’t processed the pain yet. He kept barely not poking the jagged edge of his compound fracture.

“I think you should let me out now,” Persephone said. She hoisted herself up and balanced on her one leg.

“Never,” Sebastian said. “Not a chance in hell. You can rot there. I’m going to the hospital.”

He stood and walked to the corner of the crossroads where he had deposited his backpack. He had drawn a second devil’s trap there, just in case Plan A didn’t work. Well, that had been a lesson in the utility of improvisation. It turned out the second trap hadn’t been even Plan B. Still, one couldn’t be too cautious.

“You know I’ll get out eventually,” Persephone shouted. “And I will find you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sebastian said. “I guess you can just kill me then.”

He stepped into the second devil’s trap, picked up his pack, and slung it over his left shoulder. Now the pain was setting in on the right arm. He grimaced and did his best to not let the pain show. He didn’t want to give Persephone that satisfaction.

Sebastian looked at Persephone one last time. She tottered, a little unsteady, but still looked dangerous with that katar in hand.

“Ciao,” Sebastian said.

He headed for the road. But his progress was suddenly stopped by some invisible barrier. His hands rushed up in front of him, and he immediately recoiled the right arm in pain. After taking a second to breathe, he reached in front of himself again with just his left arm. An invisible barrier for for sure. He spun in a full circle, feeling the invisible wall all the way around. Just like Persephone, he was caught in a devil’s trap.

“What the hell!? I’m not even a demon! How did you do this?” Sebastian demanded. He glared at Persephone. She didn’t move or even emote at all.

A thick, deep voice floated through the night: “Persephone does not bear any blame for your confinement, Charon.”

Sebastian spun to locate the new intruder. His eyes searched the darkness, and he was surprised to note an older black man emerging from the shadows. It occurred to him, perhaps for the first time, how long it had been since he’d seen a black person. It was probably back in Virginia. Certainly not in Nara.

The man’s hair was short and speckled gray and white. His trimmed goatee still had hints of black in it. He stood straight as a board and dressed rather dapper: a dark green vest, pinstripe black jacket and slacks, and immaculately shined shoes. Sebastian half-expected to find a thin gold chain attached to a monocle hidden in the man’s breast pocket.

“Barnabas,” Persephone said deferentially.

“Persephone,” the man responded. “You look unwell.”

“Nothing a new body won’t fix,” she replied.

“Indeed,” Barnabas said. “You ought to commence the search, then. We both know how particular you can be.”

“Hmph.”

Sebastian could not place Barnabas’ accent. The man’s speech patterns were slow, deliberate. His accent sounded vaguely Southern, but old. Almost British in a way. Barnabas enunciated seemingly every sound. To Sebastian’s untrained ear, the man managed to emphasize every syllable of every word, rather than alternating between strong and weak syllables.

Unsurprisingly, Sebastian wasn’t acquainted with a variety of Southern dialects. He knew what Virginians sounded like, and he knew Cajuns garbled all their words together, but that was about the extent of his knowledge. Barnabas, however, hailed from the urban South, from Atlanta, to be exact.

Sure, Sebastian had heard recorded snippets of Martin Luther King, Jr., before but he hadn’t ever really listened. He couldn’t identify the similarities in speech patterns between King and Barnabas. In fact, he couldn’t have identified any mid-twentieth century black Atlantan’s accent if his life depended on it. Fortunately for Sebastian, that was not the skill on which his life depended.

“Who is this clown?” Sebastian asked, inspecting Barnabas’ attire from head to toe. Barnabas, unblinking, stared at Sebastian until the young man couldn’t take the awkwardness anymore and looked aside.

“I fear your selection this time was poor, Persephone,” Barnabas said.

“Tch! Don’t I know it?” she agreed.

[“The Silence”]

“You ought to have more expediently informed me of the former Charon’s demise,” Barnabas said. “A regrettable loss.”

A regrettable loss. Ken had been so much more than that to her.

Unsure of how she could possibly respond, Persephone only looked at the ground and nodded.

“I must confess my patience wears thin, Persephone. And this...” Barnabas motioned toward Sebastian, “is a retrogress.”

“A what now?” Sebastian blurted. “Let me out of this trap. I’ll show you a retrogress.”

Barnabas gave him a wan smile.

It’s not entirely clear what Sebastian was thinking in that moment. Perhaps he was emboldened by his victory over the mikoshi-nyūdō. He didn’t know it had been a greater demon, but he knew it had been more powerful than Persephone. The fight had made that fact obvious. Then he had trapped Persephone, too. She had maimed him, of course, but to lock her in the trap at all had been quite the accomplishment.

All in all, his feats had been quite incredible. Perhaps he swelled with pride at his accomplishments or even flirted with arrogance.

But pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

Barnabas snapped his fingers, and Sebastian’s body exploded into a million brilliant, bloody pieces.

Chunks of what used to be Sebastian flew free of the imprisoning devil’s trap. Barnabas manifested two new psychic barriers around Persephone and himself, shielding them from the splatter of the offal and gore.

Persephone heaved a deep sigh. Barnabas had never so explicitly or definitively repudiated any of her previous recruits. On the surface, Barnabas still seemed calm, but Persephone understood what frustration lurked under that placid veneer.

“I’m sorry, Barnabas,” Persephone said. He did not acknowledge her apology.

“Our time grows short,” he said. “Begin again. Choose wisely this time.”

Barnabas motioned toward the devil’s trap around Persephone and flicked his wrist. A mound of dirt rose up and covered a large chunk of the trap’s perimeter. Persephone was free to move again.

“Thank you, Barnabas,” Persephone said.

“Once you’ve possessed a new body,” Barnabas said, “I require your presence back in Athens.”

Barnabas returned to the shadows. He was a soulbound demon, so he couldn’t just abandon the body and ethereally fly through the night sky as Persephone could. Still, he could cover great distances in a short time.

Persephone balanced on her one leg as she slowly kneeled. Using the katar, she dug a hole deep into the center of the crossroads, deposited the blade there, and buried it. She would be back soon enough.

Persephone hobbled far enough away to where she could leave a corpse and not draw attention to the katar’s hiding spot. When she was satisfied she had put enough distance between her and the blade, she closed her eyes and left the flesh.

Her consciousness escaped slowly and rose above the earth. Her body fell to the ground and lay there, unmoving. Persephone lingered for a moment, sad to have so abused her host. She promised herself to treat the next one better.

She floated in the heavens in search of another body. She headed toward nearby Kyoto, but had no luck there. She tried Osaka, Kobe, and even Nagoya, but to no avail. As she had feared, she would have to search the much larger Tokyo. An hour later, once she had arrived, Persephone listened well for someone who would be compatible, and more importantly, who wanted her. She listened long into the night.

There was only silence.

***[The photo is my own, taken along the entryway to Wakamiya Shrine in Nara Park]