Revelations: The Last War

by Lauretta Hignett

  Revelations: The Last War

  Lauretta Hignett

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  The woman’s face twisted. When she spoke again, her eyes shimmered like sparkling diamonds, threatening to spill over with unshed tears.

  “I just wanted to let you know how grateful I am,” the woman said, her lips trembling. “The crystal caves were a wonder that I’d never thought I would see in my whole life. I am truly blessed to have been able to experience them.” She placed her hand on her chest and bowed her head towards me.

  I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. I felt like I was in an alternate dimension, where everything had turned on its head. Exactly a year ago to the day, another woman, who looked almost the same as this one - blonde bob, cuddly body, brown eyes - had stood in precisely the same place, and screamed and spat on me because she was furious we’d lost her jacket.

  The first woman had been an insanely rich heiress. She’d had enough money to wipe out the debt of a third world country, yet I’d never met a more miserable person in my whole life.

  This woman - the one standing in front of me now, quite literally bowing at me - was a penniless charity worker from Ohio. She had started a homeless shelter by begging for funds from corporates, and scrounging grants from the government. She was one of the loveliest people I'd ever met in my life.

  Usually it was only the very wealthiest people in the world who could come to Revelations, the exclusive, secretive billion-star resort where I worked. It cost close to a hundred thousand dollars a night to stay here. With that, you got unparalleled service, complete privacy, and the strictest confidentiality.

  But it looked like things were changing. Mrs. Croxford was the third ‘poor person’ we had staying here in the last couple of months. Her vacation was a gift from a billionaire, a patron of her charity. He’d intended on coming himself and had made the booking months ago, suddenly, he’d decided to treat Mrs. Croxford instead.

  Of course, she tried to refuse. She even sneakily attempted to auction it off to raise money for her charity. However, the billionaire patron bought the vacation back at the charity auction and insisted Mrs. Croxford take it.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed the caves, Mrs. Croxford,” I told her, letting my smile shine as soon as the impulse to laugh had left me. “I agree, they are truly beautiful.”

  “That Crystal Cavern is spectacular!” Mrs. Croxford gushed, her eyes filled with tears. “It was so nice of you to suggest the chorale tour.”

  “My pleasure."

  “And you are so blessed to work in such an amazing location,” she went on, stepping closer to the desk. “The caves have such amazing energy to them. Inside them it was like I could feel my soul tingling.”

  My smile wobbled slightly. With a bit of effort, I plastered it back into place.

  “They truly do have amazing energy,” I managed.

  Amazing. Yet not in a good way.

  At the lowest level of the Develian's cave system, a sharp descent called the Devil’s Drop tunneled down into nothingness. Revelations used to have guides that would take the more serious thrill-seekers a few meters down there, however, they’d all quit, muttering about voices and dark thoughts getting louder every meter down. It was a well-kept secret at Revelations, and management often dismissed it as being a byproduct of the weird electromagnetic activity around the caves.

  I knew the truth because I’d been down there. Down in the Devil’s Drop, the barriers between Earth and Hell were at their thinnest. You could hear the screams of the tortured souls clearer and louder with every step you took.

  It was, essentially, a Hellmouth. Once Hell was packed to the brim with screaming souls, it would overflow. The Devil’s Drop was the pouring point for the inevitable flow of wild, destructive, and volatile spirits that were going to come rushing out.

  I smiled at Mrs. Croxford again. “The Crystal Cavern is my favorite.”

  “Oh, the whole place glitters like a gem,” she gushed, closing her eyes in ecstasy. “It was truly a sight to behold. Have you been down there lately?”

  I shook my head. “I doubt it’s changed much in the last sixty thousand years.” I gave her a wink.

  She laughed. “You should go down,” she said. “You can’t take these things for granted. There is so much beauty in the world, we have to appreciate every speck and spot.”

  I grinned back at her, thinking to myself that I was never going down there again. The last time I was forced to go down there, it was to rescue my lover. Bound, tortured and weakened, he had almost died from the constant exposure to the screams of the dead. I’d saved him, even though it had almost killed me, too. I’d been working on learning to block out the screams with some help from Nate, by wandering around in the outer caves. But I'd decided I was going to stay far away from the Devil’s Drop, if I could help it.

  “You’re right, Mrs. Croxford,” I said to her. “There is so much beauty in the world.”

  “And you are so beautiful too, my dear,” she said to me, grinning widely, nodding in my direction. “So young, so pretty and sweet. You’ve got the whole world in your hands. The future belongs to you.”

  I laughed out loud. “You are unbearably kind.”

  She was also almost completely wrong, I wasn't going to let her know that though.

  “Well, I just wanted to say thanks again. You’ve been too kind.”

  I gave her a cheeky wink. “It is my job, Mrs. Croxford.”

  “Yes, but I can tell that you care, Eve,” she nodded sagely. “You care about all of us, and it shows.” She held out her arms. “Can I have a hug?”

  I chuckled. “Of course you can,” I said, walking around the desk to meet her.

  I got halfway around it before she spotted my lower half. Her eyes flew wide, and she gasped theatrically. “Oh! You’re pregnant! I didn't know!"

  I shrugged, still grinning at her enthusiasm. “Well, the reception desk kinda hides it well.”

  “Oh, Eve!" Mrs. Croxford pulled me in for a hug. It was a lot more gentle than she was probably planning on, but it felt gorgeous. I was a connoisseur of non-romantic physical affection, having been a victim of more attempted sexual assaults than I care to mention. I thanked my lucky stars that I’d never stopped liking hugs. In fact, I loved a good squeeze.

  You could always tell how much the other person loved you by their hug. To me, it felt like a tangible exchange of energy. That had been a mad theory of mine, one of which I had shared with my friend Met, who happened to be an excellent hugger.

  He’d told me that my theory was actually true. He'd said that in a proper full-body hug, two people’s heart chakras aligned, and they exchanged a beautiful energy between them - neither of them losing anything, both of them gaining everything.

  Mrs. Croxford was an Olympic-grade hugger. I fell into it, basking in the glowing vibrations that she sent into me.

  She squeezed me for just a quick second. “You’re so lucky,” she whispered. “Having a beautiful, sweet baby. Becoming a mother. It’s such a special time.”

  She released me and stepped back, keeping hold of both my hands still clu
tched in hers. “Your future is so bright, Eve,” she said, smiling, tears in her eyes. “I hope you’re looking forward to it.”

  I had to work hard to keep my smile on my face. I didn’t want to contradict her.

  The truth was, as soon as this baby entered the world…

  Well, that would be the end.

  Chapter Two

  I wasn’t about to explain it all to Mrs. Croxford. Instead, I hugged her again and bid her goodnight. She ambled away contentedly, back to her luxurious bungalow, and I got on with my work. I’d managed to bury myself in a mountain of paperwork lately so I could quit focusing on my future.

  The truth was, I was destined to give birth to the Antichrist. I had no future.

  It sounded more sinister than it really was. Throughout the ages, various Prophets, oracles, and soothsayers predicted how the apocalypse would go down. There was always one consistent feature in these prophecies - the birth of a child. Most of them mentioned some sort of baby who would bring about the end of mankind.

  There were a lot of variations and embellishments on these prophecies. Alex, my boyfriend, had reassured me that most of these Seers had a tendency to over-dramatize their predictions, just for the benefit of their masters.

  I sure hoped he was right. There were mentions of my baby being a three-headed beast, a bloodthirsty demon, and the literal embodiment of evil itself.

  It was a lot of pressure. I would settle for my baby having Alex’s blue eyes. And, if I’m being fussy, I’d like for him not to have horns or a forked tail.

  What we knew for sure was this: The second my baby poked his head out of my hoo-haa, Hell would overflow. The boundaries the demons had created to keep them in one place would break, and they’d come screaming out of the caves, wrecking everything in their path.

  Even just a couple of escaped souls can cause catastrophic natural disasters; tsunamis, earthquakes, and storms. If a hundred souls got out, there would be nothing to stop them. The demons were already stretched to breaking point, trying to keep a handle on the ones that were in Hell.

  There were too many souls. That much energy just couldn’t be contained by anything that the demons could construct. God knows, they tried. God was also nowhere around to help build something new to keep them all there.

  The situation was dire. If Hell were to break open, there would be roughly 108 billion souls zooming out, screaming onto the Earthly Plane. The world would be destroyed in a matter of minutes. Every human on the planet would die.

  Why me? I thought, rubbing my belly absently.

  Because you can handle it, the voice came from inside me.

  Shut up, I told the voice. I stretched my back, wincing.

  I was a little over seven months pregnant now, and it had been mostly smooth sailing. A little nausea, some tiredness. I’d been ditzy and forgetful too, but that seemed to come in waves, rather than being a condition that had settled in.

  I considered myself lucky with that, because, much to Alex’s chagrin, I had insisted on keeping my job.

  There were several reasons for that. The first one was that on some level, I wanted to stick my head in the sand and pretend that this wasn’t happening. While I was working, there were long moments when I honestly forgot about my future.

  Or, more accurately, my lack of future.

  Those moments were like a decompression, a meditation. I could focus on whatever petty needs my rich guests had, I could interact with my fun-filled colleagues and pretend like everything was normal. It felt good not to worry. I suspected that if I had too much time on my hands, worrying would be all that I would do.

  The second reason was that I actually liked my job. Sure, there were dull moments. But it was a beautiful resort, most of the guests were kind and charming, and now, some of them were downright wonderful. I got a lot of satisfaction in pulling off the perfect stay, coordinating the guest’s arrival, managing their preferences, anticipating their needs. Not to mention taking a load off for their assistants, who were often pathetically and vocally grateful when we treated their bosses well.

  When they left Revelations, their batteries were recharged, and I felt the satisfaction of a job well done.

  The third reason I stayed was that we were a man short. Dale was away on vacation. He had been away for the past month. I smirked when I thought about it.

  There was a quick tap of footsteps on the slate floors of reception, and Clover came back, shimmying her curvy body behind the desk. She didn’t speak - she just started tapping through our emails, surveying the screen indifferently. I didn’t look up until I realized that she was panting softly. I peeked at her out of the corner of my eye and saw that her face was flushed.

  “Clover! You’re still on duty, you hussy!”

  Clover’s main reason for working at Revelations had nothing to do with a sense of duty. It had everything to do with a rotating buffet of attractive men. It wasn’t anything to do with job satisfaction, just sexual gratification.

  “I wasn’t doing anything!” Her eyes were wide.

  “Liar. Your cheeks are pink. You’re panting.” I leered at her. “How was the Duke?”

  Clover chuckled. She’d been helping a new arrival find his bungalow - a tall pale royal.

  “Not him,” she said, shaking her head. “He was definitely not my type. I prefer strong, self-made men. Or women,” she added, shrugging. “Anyway, I'm pretty sure the Duke is gay. The footman who dropped him off was crying in his Bentley on the way out.”

  “So why are you huffing like an asthmatic at a barn dance?”

  “It was your mate,” she said accusingly. “Met. He’s started up a football game on the garden lawn behind the stables. Everyone is there.”

  She shook her head, still puffed. “On the way back from dropping off the Duke, Mrs. Dennison stopped me and begged me to go out to the lawn and find the General, and get him out of there before he hurts himself.”

  The General was almost ninety-two years old. I stared at her blankly. “What kind of football game?”

  Here I am, asking all the important questions.

  “American,” she groaned. “Gridiron. The most hurty kind of football. Met’s organized two teams, and everyone is playing. Literally, almost every single guest is out there. Met’s even managed to get helmets for everyone, God only knows how,” she shook her head again in wonder. “I had no idea we had all that equipment stored here. He’s some sort of magician.”

  “Hmmm,” I said non-committedly.

  “They all seem to be having a pretty great time too,” she said petulantly. “Playing quite rough, from what I could see. I would have loved to join in, but Mrs. Dennison was right, the General could literally die at any second. It was all I could do just to grab him and run.”

  “You carried him back to his bungalow?”

  “I carried him like a baby. The guy is ninety pounds soaking wet. Luckily he’s completely lost his mind,” Clover added. “He was fine with me carrying him and Mrs. Dennison was very grateful that he was still alive.”

  I patted her on the shoulder. “Good thing you were there to save the day,” I told her.

  Clover glanced at me slyly. “Your mother-in-law was there too.”

  Nimue, a Greater Demon with even greater fashion sense, had the same ideas of fun that Met had.

  “She’s always tied up in Met’s shenanigans.”

  Clover’s smirk deepened. “She was going for a lingerie bowl aesthetic.”

  “Oh, God. She wasn’t, was she?”

  “Tiny booty shorts, a crop top showing underboob, shoulder pads, the works,” Clover replied, grinning. “She looked phenomenal. All our elderly gentlemen are having heart attacks. Poor Alex is sitting on the edge of the lawn with his head in his hands.”

  I sniggered. I loved Nimue’s antics, but I was glad she wasn’t my mother.

  “Seriously when did she have Alex, anyway? The woman doesn’t look a day over thirty.”

  “The early middle ages,” I mut
tered under my breath as I turned to the printer.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, louder. “I’m too scared to ask, it’s rude to ask a lady her age. I think she must be from some pretty amazing genetic stock, though, huh.”

  Clover sighed. “Just to think, some of those amazing genes are going to end up in your baby. I mean, Alex himself is probably the most jaw-droppingly, gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, along with Nate. And with you chipping in the other half of those genes!” She rubbed my tummy. “He’s going to be the most beautiful thing you ever saw.”

  “We don’t know if it’s a he, Clover. We don’t know what I’m having.”

  It was true. I wasn’t planning on having a scan. I was too scared that I was going to see some horns and cloven hooves in there. I'd decided to have this baby no matter what, so it didn’t really matter what it looked like.

  “I wish you had found out when you had your scan,” Clover said. “I want to start pressuring you with names.”

  “I’m not finding out until my baby is born,” I said again, for the millionth time.

  “I know, you want it to be a surprise.” Clover went back to her spreadsheets. She’d just assumed that was the case, and I didn’t correct her.

  No matter what, my child’s birth was going to be a surprise. To everyone.

  After I found out I was pregnant, I'd had a lot of decisions to make. Surprisingly enough, considering my pro-choice stance, the first - and most important decision - was the easiest. I was having this baby. I just knew it was right; I could feel it. Even though I knew it, deep in my soul, the weight of my decision was heavy. I wasn’t just risking my life, I was risking everyone's life. The fate of the whole planet rested on it.