The Devil Wore My Name

II. WHOSE CALL?

The instincts of human nature kicked in as everyone ran for their lives out of the club. The street adjacent to the club was crowded with people to the point that there was no room for the vehicles to move through.

Christopher had no control over his feet, the current of the humans rushing out forcing him to join the others on the street. He was barely able to find a secure foothold on the ground as the crowd started spreading all around him, giving him some space to breathe. The only thing that he inhaled was the heavy smoke that was rising vigorously to pollute the atmosphere around him.

As if his head was only now recovering from all the inhaled smoke, his eyes went wide with the realization that he was missing something – someone.

Elfric.

He was separated from him in the basement of the club. When he thought that he was right behind him, he took hold of the door handle, and the fire was already spreading like rain around him.

"Damn it," he cursed, a rough hand went through his hair as he realized that Elfric was nowhere around him. He turned halfway, looking at the building that was on fire, the sirens of the firefighters were closing in on them, followed by ambulances and police.

"ELFRIC!" Chris yelled out, a hopeless attempt to find his friend.

If he made it out after him, then he would have surely bumped into him by now. This meant only one thing…and that is Elfric was still in there, along with the psychopathic cult that was also nowhere to be seen.

"ELFRIC!"

 ~~~~

"I shall hear thee call,"

The demonic whisper echoed again in Elfric's mind, forcing his eyes to jolt open. The smell of disinfectants was teasing his nostrils as his chest rose to catch on to the breath that he seemed to have been holding.

As oxygen reached the circuits in his brain, he slowly started to regain his senses. He found himself lying flat on a hospital bed, the bright fluorescent light above his head was aching his eyes. The movement of his arm as it shielded his face caught the attention of the two females on his left.

"Mom, he is awake!"

Elfric felt his heart almost melt from the comfort as he realized the sweet young voice of his younger sister Joanna. He wasted no time and gathered all his strength to bring his forearm off his face. His memory was a haze, the shadow in his head was still there, screaming the same five words.

"I shall hear thee call,"

"Rick, are you okay?" Joanna exclaimed, turning her attention back to her brother, leaning forward. Elfric could barely open his eyes, but he was still able to catch the twinkle in his sister's honey-colored eyes that matched his left one.

"Give him some space!"

 Glancing to the side, he saw his mother in her simple, usual dress with her hair held with a rubber band to the side.

"Are you okay, Elfric?" his mother, Lorena, asked worriedly. "I will call a doctor!"

Before she could turn around, Elfric caught her arm in his weak grip as he gathered what was left of his strength to sit up straight. Lorena watched in worry as Joanna lent a helping hand.

Just what the hell happened to him that he felt like this?! Every inch felt like it was broken and reattached.

"I'm okay," he stated weakly, cracked as if he hadn't used it in days. He adjusted himself and turned to look at his family. The mere thought that he could have died in that fire and left them behind here in this world tore his heart apart.

"I just feel a little tired," he added, faking a smile. "How did you get here anyway…"

Before he could finish his sentence, the curtains around his bed were drawn open, revealing the familiar boy in the leather jacket.

"ELFRIC!" Christopher yelled out, catching the attention of the other sickly people and doctors around him. Before Elfric got the time to tell him to keep it down, his friend was half up his bed as he held him by both shoulders.

"Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine!" he scoffed teasingly as he pushed Chris away. Lorena felt her worry fade ever so slightly as she saw her son act more like normal.

"By the way," Elfric paused as he took a look around the fancy part of the hospital that he wasn't used to.

"Where is this?" Elfric involuntarily narrowed his eyes as he addressed everyone around him. he could smell that something was fishy, there was no way his mother would have been allowed here if this was…

"Don't tell me that this is Noble's ward!?" Elfric whispered, screamed at his friend. They knew how much he despised the mere word of Noble, and to be treated in their ward made his stomach twist.

"W-We had to get you here," Chris defended. "The commoner's ward is full after the fire down in the club."

Elfric finally noticed the burns on Chris's hand, along with the ashes that were covering his face. Christopher must be the one who has paid for this all, being adopted by nobility had its advantages, Elfric thought. But, being his friend for all those years…he ought to know that it wasn't as beautiful as it sounds.

"Thank you, Chris," Elfric let out a shaky breath in defeat. "It's time to go home now."

 ~~~~

"My God,"

"Lord Crane!" A man dressed in a black slim suit approached Crane as he got over the yellow tape that kept everyone out of the site.

Crane turned his head halfway to look at the man approaching him, and his face wasn't exactly pleased.

"Do you care to explain what in hell happened here, Zeph!" he yelled out as he pointed to the altar.

The blood was now dried up, leaving stains all over the tiled floor. The body of the boy that was there when they arrived was already carried off, along with all the bodies of the cult members that were there upon arrival.

Some had their faces burned off, way beyond recognition, and some still had that look of horror on their face. It gave Crane the chills, seeing how they seemed to be looking at the devil even after their deaths.

"Your Brother Lord Crane wanted to summon him," Zeph stated as he held his hands behind his back, avoiding his master's angry eyes. "But I think that the ritual was a failure."

"You think…" Crane mumbled under his breath; his eyes were down, looking at the tip of his shoes.

"MY CLUB IS BURNED TO THE GROUND AND YOU THINK!?" He slammed his fists on the altar behind him.

Zeph was silent as he waited for Crane to come back to his senses. He could understand where the anger was coming from. The ritual was something that the Gothom family was cooking up in secret for a while, and then there was Drace Gothom, Crane's younger brother, who attempted the ritual on his own.

The outcome of the months wasn't as fruitful as any of them had hoped.

"Keep the police out of here," Crane finally spoke.

"Not a single soul comes in here and controls those damn reporters. And…" he paused.

"I want to know exactly what happened here," he narrowed his eyes as he looked over his shoulder at Zeph, who was still in the same posture.

"We can't risk it. If he was summoned, then I want to know whose call he heeded."