The Key of the Cypher Flux

by R L Delaney

  "I am he," the demon replied, while he took a threatening step towards the Shadow Walkers. "Why have you summoned me?"

  "B-But, you are so small?" Justin recognized Stana's voice.

  The sickening, impish demon, that was claiming to be the mighty Gogothol, cursed and yelled in his weird high-pitched voice, "You have used the key of Cipher Flux. But it will be to your own ruin, you fools. Why have you done this?" He took another step towards the broken line of confused Shadow Walkers, who all stepped back as well.

  "What is going on?" The spokesman of the Shadow Walkers stammered.

  "Imbeciles, nincompoops, idiots…," the not so great Gogothol screamed. "I was defeated ages ago in the days of Cipher Flux and reduced to my present state, by the angel whose name is not worthy to be mentioned. Did you not hear…," he spoke as loud as he could, "… that this angel reversed the workings of the Key of Cipher Flux?"

  Several Shadow Walkers began to moan and scream. Panic was near, as the realization that the key of Cipher Flux was not all that they had believed it to be, began to dawn on them.

  The imp raised both of his ugly arms in the air and screamed, "Yes, the pit will be opened, but not to unleash our forces, but to suck up all who stand in the way." He uttered another string of curses while he wildly swung his fists around, causing anyone near to jump away in fear lest the razor sharp nails of the demon would slash through their bodies.

  At that same instant the ground began to tremble, and several large waves rolled through the ground.

  "An earthquake," Justin cried out. Justin felt himself being lifted up by the ground, and he had to do his best not to fall down.

  But that first wave was only the beginning.

  Justin stared at Amy and Father Galvéz. "Run to the hills. Something terrible is about to happen."

  "What about your uncle," Amy cried out. When Justin stared in her face he marveled. Her face shone like that of an angel.

  "Run, Amy… For God's sake, run. I'll try to help Uncle Harry."

  Amy nodded and squeezed his hand. "The Lord will keep you," she whispered. "Tonight we will have the final victory."

  Even now, Amy was still holding on to her faith.

  "Please, Amy… run, before it's too late."

  To his relief, Amy grabbed Father Galvéz by the hand and began to pull the old man away. One concern less.

  Now where was Uncle Harry?

  The earthquake had come so unexpectedly that several of the Shadow Walkers had fallen over as well and from the corner of his eye Justin noticed the robe of one of them had caught fire after his torch had touched it.

  A second tremor rolled through the ground, causing the stable to sway back and forth. It was clear the whole wretched thing would fall over if another tremor struck.

  Chapter Eleven

  When the Shadow Walkers hauled Uncle Harry out of the stable, after someone had been banging on the stable door and demanded to speak to the Shadow Walkers, the detective feared his time was up.

  "W-Where are we going?" he stammered, after some rough hands jerked him to his knees and a cold voice had ordered him to walk along. But instead of an explanation, he got a push and a shove, and someone else hissed. "Quiet. You're going outside."

  Outside, rain fell on his hurting head. How strangely good these refreshing drops felt, and even though he couldn't see, since he was blindfolded, he lifted up his head and tried to catch some of the drops with his tongue, as they were falling. He was so thirsty. So terribly thirsty.

  Then, someone said something. That voice sounded familiar. Was that Justin's voice?

  "Let my uncle go."

  It sure sounded like Justin. But if that was Justin, how had he gotten here? Hearing his nephew's voice lifted Harrison's spirit. If Justin was here, then there was hope. All was not lost.

  Ever since the day he had been beaten up by these horrible thugs in his office, and had been gagged, bound and beaten, he had not given a cent for his life anymore. Surely, this time the Shadow Walkers would finish him off. And, truth be told, he deserved it. There was only one person to blame for the mess he was in, and that was he himself.

  It was nobody else's fault. The finger of the accuser only pointed in one direction. He was so angry with himself.

  Justin and Amy had seen right through that horrible, wicked Stana Growklowsky. They had tried to tell him, but he, in his pride, had not even considered their words. He had scoffed at Justin's tirade against Stana. He had even doubted Justin was a true friend, and had murmured about the immature behavior of his nephew and his girlfriend.

  But there was only one person that had been immature. Like an inexperienced schoolboy he had been led to the slaughter by that… floozy Stana Growklowsky. She was a bimbo and a devil. And he had been deceived by her charming voice, her penciled eyebrows and her perfect body. She had preyed on him and by batting her dark, beautiful, wicked eyes had managed to worm her way into his heart, and thus, she had conquered him. He had fallen for her, hook, line and sinker. Now he would be the subject of gossipy old ladies, and the subject of coarse jokes in the pub. And he deserved it.

  After these thugs had literally beaten the daylights out of him, they had thrown him in some sort of basement. His hands remained tied, he was blindfolded, and only once a day somebody entered to feed him a dry crust of bread and to pour some water into his mouth.

  But now he was outside… and Justin was here.

  Oh God… forgive me, and help me.

  "The key?" A dark voice of a man behind Harrison called out to Justin.

  The key? Had Justin somehow found the key?

  "It's in a safe spot," he heard Justin answer. "You wouldn't be so stupid to assume I would come here with that key dangling on my belt without having any assurance."

  Justin's voice sounded so calm and full of confidence. And yes… he apparently did have the key.

  Conflicting thoughts welled up. Harrison desperately wanted to be set free, but if Justin had the key, he could not give it to the Shadow Walkers. What was it again that Alfred Rodeo had said? The earth would open up, and wickedness would stream out… Dear God, don't let that happen.

  The conversation went on.

  "Then get it." Harrison heard the Shadow Walker say.

  "How will the exchange go?" There was Justin's voice again. His voice was now a bit more strained. "How do I know you will keep your word and you won't kill us the moment we hand you the key?"

  Another voice spoke up from behind. A mocking voice that came from a woman, and as he listened to it, anger rose in his chest. He knew that voice. That was wicked Stana.

  "We don't have to," Stana said. "Gogothol will."

  Sweat broke out on Harrison's forehead. They were deceiving Justin. His nephew was trying to bargain with the Shadow Walkers, but they would never do such a thing. They were liars and cheats.

  The voice directly behind him spoke up again, "As soon as we have the key, we'll give you Harrison Ames. You will just have to trust us."

  Harrison lifted his head and cried out, "Justin… is that you?"

  Instantly a sharp pain coursed through his body as somebody knocked him hard on the head. A searing pain shot through his head.

  For a moment it seemed nobody spoke. Then Harrison heard Justin's voice again. "Fine, I'll get it."

  "Dear God," Harrison whispered a silent prayer, "I am a stupid man… don't allow these Shadow Walkers to get the key. I'd rather die."

  For a moment Harrison felt he was fainting. The knock on his head had almost been too much for him. The lack of food and drink and the rope around his wrists, had left him with little strength. He almost fell over but somehow he managed to stay on his knees.

  From very far he heard Justin speak again, followed by the harsh voice of his captor that was standing behind him. "You old man… you bring that box."

  "Old man? Was there somebody else besides Justin? Harrison gathered all his strength and yelled out once more, "No, Justin… Don't give them the key."


  Somebody hit him on the head again. More pain, more nausea. This time Harrison couldn't keep his balance, fell forward and landed with his face in the mud. The ground was turning and moving as if he were laying in a small sloop in the middle of the ocean. The voices now came from far away.

  Somebody was walking his way.

  Right then, he heard that hated voice behind him again. A horrible voice it was that cried out in victory, "The key of Cipher Flux… It is ours."

  Anger flashed through Harrison's body. A wild, savage fury got hold of him. Not quite aware of what he was doing, he gritted his teeth and mumbled a prayer, "God of Heaven… give me the strength of Samson and the courage of David. I've been bad, I've dishonored you, but now answer my prayer. I am not asking that for myself, but for the sake of your precious people."

  Then he let out a roar and somehow, while strength was streaming through his veins he raised himself, and without stopping he jerked both feet forward in the direction of that hated voice.

  Bull’s eye.

  His legs rammed into someone's body. Something snapped, somebody sighed and Harrison landed back on the ground.

  There was yelling and screaming.

  "The key is activated," somebody cried in a loud voice, and a terrible stench entered Harrison's nose and he lost consciousness.

  When Harrison opened his eyes he found himself in the middle of terrible pandemonium. The ground was shaking, and a dark rumble welled up from deep within the earth. A man was running over him, stepping forcefully on his leg and somebody right next to him was chanting strange Latin phrases in fearful, high-pitched tones. He had to get away from here. But how?

  Harrison forced his weakened body off the ground and yelled, "Somebody help me… what's going on?"

  At that instant his ropes fell off.

  Harrison shook his head in disbelief as he could freely move his wrists. Nobody had cut them… they had just fallen off. Instantly, he jerked his blindfold off and stared in horror at the scene around him.

  The ground right before him had begun to split open, and dark, sulfurous smoke rose up from deep below. At some places flames of fire shot up from within the earth, and sparks, the size of chicken eggs were thrown into the atmosphere.

  Not even ten feet away from him, a strange black creature was crawling around trying to escape the widening gap of the steadily ripping ground around them. A demon… Fear coursed through Harrison's body.

  Somehow the curse of Cipher Flux had been unleashed, and demons were crawling out of the pit. Strangely though, the demon right before him seemed afraid to fall back in. For just a fraction of a second the demon looked Harrison in the eye. He was intensely dark, with a blackness that seemed to have the ability to suck you right into the darkness with him. But as the evil creature looked around with nervous, shifty, yellow cat-eyes that shone with a hellish light, he seemed not at all interested in Harrison, but was trying to survive an unpleasant situation. The weird creature from hell kept on crying in a strange, strangled and high-pitched voice, that was barely audible above the ominous rumble from deep within the earth. "We're all going to die, you fools. It's over." These were his last words as right before Harrison's eyes, the ground on which the demon was standing broke off, and both he and the ground disappeared in the hot, fiery inferno that was now clearly visible from where Harrison sat.

  Oh God… I am going to fall in there too.

  All around him more gaps were appearing in the ground. At some places, the flames that welled up from below were now so high that the whole area was illuminated in a sea of pulsating light. At that instant, the ground right before him was splitting open as well, and a wide, gaping gap had formed, while hot steam and smoke were beginning to burn his skin.

  Harrison jumped up, and wildly stormed in the opposite direction… But there were gaps everywhere. There was no escape.

  Just behind him, he saw several of his hooded tormentors falling into the earth. They were screaming, cursing, and crying out for help in deep terror as they toppled over the edge. Then they were gone.

  This was the end. He was going to die. There were flames and holes everywhere. It was only a matter of seconds before the ground on which he was standing would cave in as well.

  And he was right.

  The ground underneath his feet started to move again, and all of a sudden it had lost its sturdiness. For a short moment it felt as if he was standing on cotton. His legs began to sink, and right before him a flame of fire broke through the crust of earth.

  "King of Heaven… Have mercy on me, a sinner."

  With his last breath Harrison cried out to God.

  This was the end.

  When Harrison opened his eyes he was sitting in what appeared to be a garden. A beautiful garden it was, and he was leaning with his back perched against a tree. The branches above him were laden with luscious fruits that hung in ripe clusters in between the beautiful, finely shaped leaves. He only had to stretch out his hand and he could pluck one off. What a beautiful place this was, but where was he, and how had he gotten here?

  Had he maybe died?

  The last thing he could remember were these terrible, frightening flames… He could vaguely remember that he was falling. Yes… he must have died, and he had now entered heaven.

  He breathed in the air. Strong, fresh and invigorating… with the scent of spring, if such a scent existed.

  And there was music too.

  Not too loud.

  Just right.

  Somewhere far in the distance he could hear somebody playing a harp. Yes… this was heaven. Maybe somebody would give him a harp too. He had always wanted to play an instrument.

  "No, Harry," a gentle voice spoke behind him.

  "It's not yet your time to play the heavenly harp." Somebody had read his mind. Harrison looked up and stared into the face of a shining being that emanated light. Was he in the presence of an angel? It had to be, since he was in heaven.

  The angel was strong, broad-shouldered and dressed in a white garment with shoulder-length hair, and eyes that were so full and so deep that Harrison knew they contained unfathomable treasures of wisdom.

  "I-I can't play the harp?" Harrison stammered.

  "On earth you can," the angel answered.

  Harrison eyes grew wide. Was that a chuckle?

  "Of course," the angel continued, "there are lots of heavenly beings that play the harp in heaven, but there is a lot more to heaven than playing a harp. But you are not in heaven yet."

  "I am not?" Harrison tilted his head.

  ""No, you are not," came the simple reply.

  "But… I believe I am dead," Harrison whispered as he jumped to his feet, trying to appear respectful.

  "No, you are not," the angel said and smiled the sweetest, gentlest smile Harrison had ever seen. It filled him with warmth and a deep sense of contentment welled up.

  "So, if I’m not dead, and I am not in heaven, then where am I?"

  "You could say, in terms you can understand, you are on heaven's porch," the angel answered. "Sort of like heaven's vestibule."

  "But… I was falling into a deep, fiery pit… How come I am here then?"

  The angel took a step forward and placed his right hand on Harrison's shoulder. As he did a deep sense of well-being flowed through Harrison's body. "I am the angel Quarabag. I am a guardian. Everything that has to do with the key of Cipher Flux is my responsibility…" Another smile appeared. "… and since you had a lot to do with the key of Cipher Flux, you are my responsibility too." Quarabag looked deep into Harrison's eyes. "What's more…," he said in a very serious tone. "You called out to the King of Heaven. Several times in fact. Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved." *

  "I-eh…" Harrison did not know what to say, he could hardly suppress the joy that was rising in his chest as he stared at the magnificent being before him. "You mean… you saved me when I was falling?"

  "I did," the angel answered, this time he was clearly amuse
d. "And now you must go back, and tell all your friends what you have learned."

  Go back… Harrison didn't want to go back. He was happy where he was. But before he could say anything, to his chagrin, the image of the angel before him began to slowly fade away. "Wait," he cried out as he reached out to the disappearing image with his hand, "Don't go…"

  But the angel was gone.

  But there was still a face that was staring at him. Harrison squinted his eyes to take a better look, and then he knew who it was that was looking at him, with big, round concerned eyes. He stared into the face of his nephew, Justin, who was hovering over him.

  Amy was sitting on his other side.

  "Thank God… He's alive," somebody else said. Harrison recognized the voice of Father Galvéz.

  "Justin… Amy… Father Galvéz… W-What happened?" Harrison tried to sit up.

  "Careful now," Justin cautioned him, "Don't make unexpected movements. The ground here is not safe."

  "The ground?" Harrison asked, but when he turned his head he understood. Wherever he looked he saw gaping, smoldering cracks in the ground and not too far from where he sat lay the wooden remains of what had once been a stable.

  "I-Is that the place where I was held?" he asked with trembling voice as he pointed to the rubble.

  Amy nodded. "It fell over in the earthquake."

  "There was an earthquake?"

  Amy nodded. "Remember the poem Stana Growklowsky gave you?

  "Vaguely," Harrison answered as he rubbed his forehead.

  "It was all about the key finding her mate," Amy explained. "Well, the key did find her mate when we brought it here to the ruins of the Chapel of Bitter Grog. It opened the lock, and the earth split open, just as the Shadow Walkers had said. But what came out of the earth and what happened afterwards was not what they had expected."

  Father Galvéz chuckled. "They had been fooled by the angel Quarabag. He messed up the key of Cipher Flux, and reversed its wicked workings. I heard somebody once say that if you give the devil enough rope, he will hang himself."

  But Harrison had not heard Father Galvéz' last words. Instead he veered up and asked wide-eyed, "Did you say… the angel Quarabag?"