The Third Seal

by Sean Deville

  13.

  Las Vegas, USA

  Aadam sat in the middle of a room with no furniture. The floor was bare apart from the rug he was upon. Resting against his shins, the laptop lay open, the data Aadam had sent off still awaiting a reply. He had plucked at an errant thread, only to find the garment it was attached to was starting to unravel.

  Inquisitors knew to listen to their intuition for it often told them things the rational and logical mind would reject. Right now, Aadam’s gut was screaming at him. He had uncovered something monumental. There would be no praise, nor would there be any accolades. His reward was the knowledge he had served the Lord to the best of his ability. That and the chance to maybe kill a demon or two.

  He had followed the demon from the hotel to the airport. As expected, this was not a creature who used commercial flights, the transport car taking the fiend to the airport section that serviced private jets. That was as far as Aadam’s surveillance went, but it was enough. Through the wire of the airport’s perimeter, his binoculars had given him several aircraft tail registrations to investigate. One of them might unravel the mystery further.

  The demon was connected, controlled in its approach. It could have stayed in Las Vegas to sample the many pleasures available, but it had acted in an unusual fashion. Business-like, methodical. Despite the evidence of his own eyes, the demon had behaved in the manner of one of the demonic nobles. Who was this demon, and what danger did it represent?

  His computer pinged. Opening his eyes, Aadam looked at the screen, filing through the information he had been sent.

  The chauffer driven car that had transported the demon had been a rental paid for through an offshore bitcoin account, the money thus untraceable. There would be no further clues found there. Someone was being very careful, and Aadam had no doubt that the demon was nothing more than a servant to a greater master. That was the impression he got.

  The face of the demon had so far not registered on any database which was surprising. Inquisitors, it seemed, were not the only ones who enjoyed their anonymity. The body claimed by the demon had once had a life, and that had all been scrubbed. To be able to exist like that required money, and it was rare for demons to be able to create that wealth themselves.

  Of the airplanes investigated, one was a likely candidate, the ownership of the others clear. The jet he suspected the demon had flown out on was owned by a Cayman Islands shell company. It would take time to work back to find the true ownership of that, if that was possible.

  This was his job in a nutshell. Prolonged periods of waiting, interspersed with brief and frantic episodes of violence.

  A profile of the demon was forming in Aadam’s mind. The creature, whose name Aadam didn’t yet know, represented a significant threat to the world. Aadam could almost taste it. Although the beast’s identity was so far a secret, perhaps the revelation would come through the other clues he had gathered.

  The woman’s face had not been scrubbed from the official records. She had a criminal record including drug possession and prostitution from two years prior. Then there was a note from her former parole officer in New York stating that the woman had skipped town. She was a low-level criminal, not someone the police would spend too long looking for. America was a big country, and even with the technological surveillance and all-pervasive law enforcement, there were so many places and ways to hide.

  She had changed her hair style and colour, which would be enough to fool most human eyes. It didn’t fool the computers of the Inquisition though.

  But there was more. As Aadam searched through everything that had been gathered, he found that the whole top penthouse floor of that hotel had been reserved for a man called Jonah Forge. Not his birth name, but such conmen never kept the name granted by their parents for long. He had come up on the carnival circuit, starting low level but for some reason was now a growing player in the evangelical scene, which is why there was so much information on him.

  The Inquisition liked to keep track of those who made money by abusing the word of God, for you never knew when one of those vermin would go too far and need cleansing.

  Jonah had exploded out of nowhere, backed by money that couldn’t yet be explained. The type of religious practice he was involved with was the more corrupt, money grubbing, evangelical mega-churches for which America was so famous. It was everything that Christ would have opposed.

  There were some very interesting police files on him as well, although he had never been charged with anything. Fraud, assault, rape, all significant crimes that he had managed to escape. Despite his obvious criminality, whatever he engaged in had never managed to stick. In recent years, he had also come under the protection of powerful and expensive lawyers, which meant that someone of significant worth was providing patronage.

  Jonah was in Vegas to be a speaker at a large religious service that was happening over the next few days. He would appear on and off, but on the last day, he was scheduled as the main event on a worldwide broadcast. He was still a rising star, so how did such a man get to afford the greatest luxury a hotel could afford? And what was his association with a demon? Was it possible that there was a significant adversary loose in the world without the knowledge of the Inquisition? It happened sometimes. The recent possession of the British Home Secretary was a fine example.

  Aadam was asking himself these questions when his satellite phone rang. It was rarely out of his reach, and he plucked it off the floor. The number displayed was familiar and overseas.

  “Report,” the demanding voice said. Like with Lilith’s handler John, this man took the name of one of Jesus’s disciples, and went by the name Matthew. None of the handlers ever called themselves Judas.

  “I have uncovered something strange,” Aadam said. He knew that Matthew would have the same information that Aadam had been sent. “I found a demon, but the identity of the host could not be discovered.”

  “What else do you know?”

  “It seems he was meeting a preacher and cult leader, a rising star in the evangelical movement. I need to find out why. I shall hunt down this demon.”

  “Leave that to us,” Matthew ordered. “Others will find this creature and whoever is funding him.” It would be another Inquisitor who would have the pleasure of ending the beast’s existence. So be it. “We need you to stay in Vegas.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “This Jonah Forge. We need to know more about him. He is performing tomorrow. We request that you attend.” It wasn’t a request.

  “I can do that.” As distasteful as the warping of his religion was, Aadam would quietly sit through it. “Do you want me to eradicate him?” Aadam asked. It wouldn’t be the first non-possessed human he had killed.

  “Just gather information for now. We need to know why he is consorting with demons.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. There is something you should know.” There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Cardinal Esposito met with his Holiness, the Pope. A decision has been made.”

  Aadam found he was holding his breath. All his life he had been raised with the truth that the End Times would one day arrive. “What did our esteemed Cardinal have to say?”

  “The signs are clear. Other Inquisitors have reported, as you have. The demons are getting bolder, more numerous. Despite the reservations of fools like me, it is clear that they have indeed started working together. There is a plan developing.”

  “Has he risen?” Aadam wasn’t referring to Christ, but his polar opposite.

  “Yes, we believe so. All efforts must be diverted to find his identity.”

  “Do you think this Jonah might be connected?”

  “We don’t know,” Matthew admitted. “If he is, we are hoping you will find out.”

  “You can trust me to get to the truth behind this man,” Aadam said. The most important thing to know was why Jonah was consorting with demons.

  14.

  London, UK

 
Damien no longer desired to wear his prison guard’s uniform. It was constricting and blood-stained, and it wouldn’t be long before the police were on the hunt for a man of his size wearing such clothing. Even with a mass exodus of people away from the bomb site, it wasn’t easy for someone of his immense stature to blend in with the flight of humanity. He would need blander clothing as well as something to cover his face.

  Then there were the surveillance cameras spread all across the city. They would be searching every crowd and every street for his biometric profile. There were ways to combat them, but now he needed to be more careful than ever. Although he had meant the threat he had left with Hargreaves, it was unlikely the police would stop looking for him and let him carry on with his murders.

  Any police officer who interfered in his noble task would regret the decision.

  Minutes ago, he had found a clothes store apparently abandoned. One of the windows had been smashed, the doors to the store open and neglected. He found nobody inside, the desperate flow of people in the streets ignoring it. Radiation seemed to cancel out the desire to loot. Some of the shops he’d passed had been locked up tight, their shutters pulled down. Others, like this one, had been left empty.

  Now naked, he pulled suitable clothes from the display, letting them drop to the ground once he rejected them. His immense size limited Damien’s choices, any of the options available less than practical. He had no desire to bow down to the fickle whims of the latest fashion.

  With the chaos that owned the streets, Damien had expected rioting and looting. But all that existed out there at present was fear. The area of the blast was being cordoned off, tens of thousands evacuated, the news of the atomic blast spreading rapidly through the local population. What better opportunity did an escaped convict have?

  What he wore needed to be durable, for he would be on the move a lot now. It would be hours before any sort of response would be mounted to counter his escape, but there would be an eventual manhunt for him, of that Damien was sure. In this brief moment of madness, he hoped to be able move with impunity whilst the guardians of justice made the city safe. In this fortuitous window of time, what would be their priority? An escaped killer, or saving those at risk from the radiation that was already falling with the dust and debris thrown into the sky. Although Damien didn’t know it, the suitcase nuke used was designed to be particularly dirty. What it lacked in explosive yield it more than made up for in its purpose as an area denial weapon.

  There wouldn’t be anyone living near the blast site for years to come.

  “We should hurry,” Agreas said. The demon had followed Damien into the store and wasn’t making any attempt to hide his agitation.

  “Why do you persist in hanging around me?” Damien had accepted the demon’s initial help, but he didn’t want the creature following him. That’s what it was doing though, clinging to Damien like a besotted pet. Demons were not pleasant creatures. To Damien, the demon gave off a foul odour to match the black cloak that surrounded it. He could almost see the true face of the demon hiding behind the flesh. To think that his father, Lucifer, had willingly helped create such ugliness.

  Demons were the lowest form of life, a necessary plague that Lucifer had helped spawn. There was no purity to them, their minds tainted by desires they had no say over. To Damien, they were no better than rats living in the gutters. When the gates of Hell were finally ripped asunder, the demons would run amok, but they would never own this world. This planet, this spinning ball of rock in an infinite universe was soon to be the property of the fallen angels and the Nephilim they had created. And Satan of course. Never forget him.

  The demons had their purpose and they would remain servants to the likes of Damien’s father. Above all of them, Satan would rule, feasting on the tears and the sorrow of everything he controlled.

  “Lucifer wants me to keep an eye on you,” Agreas insisted. “That’s what I intend to do.”

  “I have no need for you now. Aren’t there children somewhere for you to murder?” Agreas smiled at the idea, but shook his head.

  “It would give me such pleasure to taste the delights of this world, but I cannot disappoint Lucifer. My life isn’t worth much, but I have no wish to feel the wrath of the fallen. They are petty. If you displease one, you displease them all.”

  “At least you know your place.” Damien found a pair of cotton military jeans that were ideal for his height and build. Stepping his legs in, he felt the rightness of them. Despite the lack of underwear, they were suitably comfortable. These would suffice until he could reach his den, an address in East London the police had no awareness of. He would take several pairs when he left. There were plenty of rucksacks he could choose from to carry his stolen wares.

  “All demons know their place. We are servants to a power greater than our understanding.”

  “You know,” Damien noted, “I’ve never spoken to a demon. You aren’t what I expected.”

  “I hope I don’t disappoint.”

  “I’m afraid you do. I expected you to be terrifying.” Not that Damien would be afraid of them. With Legion beside him, Damien had no fear of anything.

  “We don’t have time for this pettiness,” Agreas insisted.

  “If I were to unleash Legion, would you stand a chance against him?” Damien didn’t look at the demon as he spoke, a size extra-large shirt calling to him.

  “Probably not,” the demon admitted. “Even if I could, I’m not permitted to harm you.”

  “Then we have time.” He put the shirt on, but found the material chaffing. The fabric tore as he ripped it free. “You can’t protect me. You do understand that, right?”

  “I rescued you from the prison,” Agreas said defensively. Damien spotted the resentment leaking out of the demon’s words. No doubt this demon felt aggrieved at being made to play nursemaid when mayhem was being unleashed upon the city’s streets. He wouldn’t be surprised if demons would be gathering to swim in the sea of human suffering. They always had a thing for mass casualty events.

  “I would have escaped from there despite your help. Maybe not today, but Legion would have seen to it.” Damien settled on a fleece which he pulled over his head and thick neck, the texture acceptable to him. He needed boots and Damien wormed his way further into the store, Agreas full of irritation as he followed. The footwear he had been issued in the prison wasn’t suitable for him, too small and showing severe signs of age. Damien needed something sturdy for he would be prowling the streets for many nights to come.

  He also needed something which could be used to kick in faces and stomp on skulls.

  “You need to promise me something,” Agreas said. He put himself in Damien’s way, a hand carefully placed to stop the escaped convict’s progress.

  “Careful now,” Damien warned. Inside, he felt Legion stirring. He knew that his other half held no qualms about killing a demon. Death was the elixir that fed Legion’s desires.

  “Not until you make your promise.” Agreas’s restraining hand dropped wisely.

  “And what promise would you like me to make exactly?” Should I let Legion out? It would solve so many things.

  “Lucifer respects your commitment, but he asks you not kill any more of his children. I feel it would be advisable for you to abide by his wishes.” And there it was. This demon had not been sent solely to send a message, but also to warn him.

  “If that was your mission, you should have left me to rot in that prison.”

  “Unleash me,” Legion whispered in Damien’s mind.

  “I would have, except there are so many things you aren’t aware of. Plus, with the radiation the human bomb unleashed, the prison wouldn’t be safe. You have a destiny, Damien, one that can’t be achieved by your incarceration.”

  “Of course, I am Lucifer’s son.”

  “He has many sons.”

  “Not when I am done. By the time I am finished, Lucifer will have little choice but to accept me. I am the only one worthy.”
/>   “You would disobey Lucifer?” Agreas seemed genuinely horrified at the idea.

  “You claim I have a destiny. Still more reason for me not to be denied what is mine by right.”

  “It’s more than that,” Agreas advised. “Much more.”

  “What are you trying to tell me, demon?”

  “There is a prophecy…” Agreas stopped speaking, as if realising the words were suddenly forbidden.

  “What do you know?” A prophecy. Damien didn’t like the sound of that.

  “Nothing. I know nothing. I spoke in haste.” Agreas saw the shift happen in Damien’s body, the eyes changing colour, the flesh seeming to grow.

  “Then what good are you, demon?” Legion roared. With a thick and powerful hand, Legion grabbed the demon by the throat.

  “Please, you must not,” Agreas croaked. He was merely a Duke of Hell, any powers he had were limited and useless against such a foe. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a demon of any notable power in this world, and even if he was, how could he safely defend himself against the child of Lucifer? To die at the hands of Legion was the preferable option.

  “Only Damien gets to tell me what I can and cannot do. You are nothing, vermin for me to step on. That you should presume to give us orders?” Legion had grown tired of the demon’s presence knowing that Agreas represented an obstacle to what still needed to be done. Such an obstacle was best removed.

  Agreas struggled against the grip that was beginning to restrict blood flow, the skin of his face bright red.

  “I beg you.”

  “Beg all you want, bastard. It won’t do you any good.” Legion lifted the demon off the ground, the strength displayed astonishing. He squeezed a little more. Should he draw this out, or make the demon’s end quick?

  “You need me.” The words were croaked, the flow of air restricted.

  “I need Damien. Nobody else.” Legion gave the demon a playful shake. “Tell me demon, how did you know Damien and I were in that prison?”