To Hell and Back (League of Guardians 1.50)

Logan had a bad feeling about this, made doubly so as Lilith clapped her hands and nodded, eyes wide, face flushed with enjoyment.

“Yes.” She nodded. “A true test, my friend.”

“I’m not your friend,” Overlord Santos growled.

The child was dressed in pajamas adorned with trains, planes, and cars. He looked to be about five or six, with blond hair that curled crazily around his face as if he was just from his bed. Tears filled eyes the color of gunmetal; they were huge in his small, pinched face. In his hand he clutched a teddy bear, which was missing both an ear and an eye. It looked much loved and well worn, and the child tucked it tight against his chest as uncontrolled sobs wracked his small, thin frame.

“What the fuck is this?” Logan exploded,

Fear fell off the poor thing in waves, and Logan noticed that his pajamas were wet. The child was terrified, and he should be.

Santos was silent, his expression unreadable.

“What kind of game involves a small human child?” Logan asked scornfully.

“Why, the kind that entertains,” Lilith replied. “The kind that thrills and pulls at your heartstrings. A winning combination, in my opinion.” She laughed, a tinkling sound that was slightly off-key. “Isn’t that true, Overlord Santos?”

Logan tried not to think of another time. Another child. Kira. He pushed all of that away and turned to his father. “I don’t play games.”

Overlord Santos never took his eyes from the child in front of them. “You will play this one.”

Logan took a step forward, while beneath his skin, his beast shifted. Fire churned in his veins. It fed the power inside him and it took everything he had to keep the hellhound at bay. He couldn’t fuck this up. As much as he wanted nothing more than to smash his fist into his father’s face, he had to keep his cool.

The child’s whimpers became louder and each time one fell from his mouth, Lilith mimicked the noise, which only served to increase the tension in the room tenfold.

Logan refused to look at the child. He couldn’t. His father had never forgiven him for taking Kira back out of Hell all those years ago, when she’d been a child not much older than this one. Santos had been looking for a way to break him, and now it had been handed to him on a silver platter. All thanks to Lilith.

Overlord Santos would ask him to do something awful. Something so reprehensible that it would haunt Logan forever. He knew this.

Yet, sadly, he would play whatever game was asked of him.

Because he had to.

“Why is he here?” Logan asked harshly, moving until his body was between both his father and Lilith and the young boy.

Santos shrugged. “Because I wished it.”

Logan nodded to the child. “This is a sanctioned run?”

Again, Santos nodded, but Logan had the feeling something else was at play.

“On whose authority?”

His father took a step forward, anger filling his features. “You would question me?”

Logan had a moment to choose sides. A moment to make sure he did the right thing. But down here the right thing was complicated. The right thing wouldn’t get him back to Kira. Even though everything inside him screamed to take the child and do whatever it took to get to a portal, he unclenched his hands and stepped back.

He stepped down. Anguished, his body trembled, his heart pounding rapidly.

Something tugged on his jeans and he glanced down. “I want,” the young boy gulped, “I want my mommy.”

Logan’s moment came and went. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t do what they were asking of him. He couldn’t play the game.

“This child has been sentenced to District Three? On what grounds?” he ground out, ignoring Lilith as he faced his father.

Santos folded his arms over his chest, his face cold, eyes dead. “You don’t get to ask those questions, b

oy.”