[Fanfiction] "Recitatif"
Title: Recitatif
Rating: T
Characters: Uruguay, Argentina, brief mentions of Paraguay, Peru and Bolivia featuring as "The Brats"
Summary: A demon hunter! AU in which Miguelín and Julio are less-than-stellar demon/witch/vampire/werewolf/things-that-go-bump-in-the-night hunters, Manuel is the most fail guardian angel ever, Sebastián is the Shadow King boss of this whole venture with a very unfortunate cousin Daniel, and Martín is the Devil King with Issues™.
In this chapter: After a bad accident on-site, Daniel is hanging on to life by a thread. Martín appears and starts a game of chess with Sebastián where souls are literally on the line.
It was strange how bleak sterility could make someone look so small. That a lack of hue could make them almost disappear, and that the only colour in the room was the mottled reds and purples and greens that littered Daniel's skin, injuries clearly visible and proof of the ones that weren't. He wasn't disappearing, Sebastián thought. The light was just eating him alive.
And the light seemed to flicker and dim at the corners of his vision, leeched and seeping away to leave a grimy grey shadow cast over everything. Sebastián didn't need to turn around to know that someone else had joined him in the deserted hallway. His new companion stood posed like some sort of avenging angel, with dark wings mantling to take up space just because he could and absorbing the light into obsidian feathers.
"You know," said the newcomer's voice, an odd mixture of soft and infinitely prideful, "all the money in the world can't save someone who's dying."
"The money was only a happy coincidence," Sebastián murmured quietly. "Besides, if it could, I don't imagine you'd be here right now. You have a bit of a reputation for not being particularly fond of me."
The words no sooner passed his lips than he was staring into a pair of unnaturally green eyes. The owner of those eyes had a deceptively sweet smile, though his canines looked just a bit too sharp, and his smile was just a little too wide, and he moved too quickly for it to be human.
Namely because, of course, he wasn't.
"I'm not," he cooed into Sebastián's face, "so you can imagine how thrilling it is to know that you need me, Artigas. You need me and I could make you do anything, you know. I could make you steal, or murder, or even make you kill yourself and die. And you'd do all of it, just for him."
Sebastián said nothing, staring straight ahead to a painting hanging on the wall, one of some idyllic countryside in shades of…shades of…gray.
"I mean, this is a really good deal for me, you know. You've been letting those brats kill off what's mine, and now I'm going to have you. You'll be like the grandest jewel in my crown. Hell's finest achievement."
"If that's your idea of 'Hell's finest achievement'," Sebastián replied coolly, "I think you need to sort out some of your priorities."
The demon straightened, his posture going so rigid as if almost to appear painful. He stared down at Sebastián condescendingly, an unholy light shining from his slitted pupils.
"I don't think you're in a position to say those kinds of things," he said softly.
"Nonsense. If not now, when?"
"Then give me one good reason not to just let your cousin die right now," the demon pressed. "One reason to not just cut the string and let him go."
Sebastián's gaze flickered from the painting to Daniel's peacefully sleeping face and back again. Inhale. Exhale. The quiet beeping of the machines keeping him alive.
"You won't kill him. And you wouldn't kill me either. Not yet." He replied evenly.
The demon grinned (just a little too wide for his face) and leaned back, fisting his hands on his waist.
"And why not?" he asked mockingly. "I think you're overestimating yourself."
The Uruguayan laughed and adjusted his glasses.
"Because," he said, "you're just as bored as I am, and you want to see what I'll do. So fine. I'll play your game in exchange for his life. All the normal contract rules in place. My soul for his life. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
The demon, for his own part, looked momentarily discomfited before a lazy, sensuous smile stole onto his face, bringing with it veins of pale red to shoot through the grey haze.
"I may hate you, but you never bore me, Artigas," he purred. "So very well, let's play. Your life for his. Just say my name and seal the contract with blood, and the game will begin."
Sebastián inhaled deeply, reaching over to brush strays curls out of his sleeping cousin's face, mindful of all the tubes and wires. It was worth it for this, he told himself firmly. Anything was worth it for Daniel.
He turned to the demon who was suddenly hovering close by his shoulder and offered him a tight, business-like smile.
"Martín."
The word seemed to echo off of the walls like the room was a cavernous expanse of empty space; it grew louder and pitchy, like the tones of a warped bell, becoming deafening as the shades of gray darkened into nothing but blackness and two pinpoints of glowing green and the backlit outlines of gigantic feathered wings spreading wide. Cold hands gripped his chin and frigid breath that smelled vaguely of old dry rot and musty linen fanned over his cheeks. Without warning, a mouth fixed over his and something sharp stabbed into his lip.
It burned then and hurt far more than it should have, each thrum of his heart making it burn more intensely until he wanted to scream from the pain of it, but couldn't; the rest of him had gone ominously cold.
Seal the contract with blood, and the game will begin.