by Ricky Fleet
She smiled and held out a hand. Malachi was even more perturbed when he took the offered hand and carried on walking towards the transept which sat before the ornately carved marble altar. A man in black robes with a red skullcap and a red sash turned to the pair, appraising them as only men of the cloth are able. Cheeks burning with unnecessary shame, Malachi looked away. The imposing stare left him feeling naked, his tainted soul exposed and judged.
“I am Cardinal Beauchamp, and you must be Malachi?” His accent was East End London and it completely threw Malachi.
“I… er… I’m…” he mumbled.
“Please forgive my accent. I was a son of the East End before I became a son of God. I like to stay true to my roots, plus it makes for interesting meetings in the Vatican.”
“I’m sure,” Malachi found his voice and shook the firm hand.
“Shall we go?” asked Beauchamp, indicating a side door.
“Go where?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“And here’s not safe? What about Claire? I’m not leaving her if this place is in danger,” Malachi pulled the man to a stop.
“You are the danger, my son. We need to take you to a place they will never find you, and Claire will be kept here until her mother arrives. Once reunited they will both be taken into hiding where the others will never be able to find them. Not even the Pope will be able to access the information.”
Malachi was pulling on his arm like a small infant with excitement, “You mean she made it?”
“Three of the survivors of the attack pulled through thanks to Michael and your friends, Claire’s mother being one of them,” explained Beauchamp with a smile.
“Oh thank God!” Malachi nearly collapsed with relief.
“Oh no, my son. This was all your doing. Never could I have imagined that you would make it out of there in one piece, let alone formulating a plan to save the poor souls within. Incredible.”
“I couldn’t save all of them,” Malachi replied with sorrow.
“Listen, Malachi,” Beauchamp stopped him outside of the wooden door, “In the past there hasn’t been a single case of anyone making it out. Today you made that four, plus yourself. It is nothing short of a miracle.”
“You’re telling me there have been more of those spheres?” Malachi was aghast.
“Many, but that can be for another day,” said Beauchamp, “I’m sure you want to know what is happening to you and what transpired today?”
“Yes,” Malachi could barely draw breath.
The cardinal placed a key in the lock, twisting it this way and that until Malachi was about to offer his help. It was only when the seemingly wooden door hissed from unseen pneumatics and slid into the floor that the truth was revealed. This was no ordinary chapel, and inside was a steel staircase which led down in a spiral. Descending the steps, Malachi was awed to finally come out in a larger room deep below the floor of the cathedral itself.
“Is that what I think it is?” Malachi whispered.
Beauchamp laughed and patted him on the back, “Indeed it is. You thought only Bond villains could afford underground tunnels and transports?”
A cylindrical passageway ran off into darkness and the small vehicle was mounted on twin rails. It resembled an old carriage from Victorian times with velvet seats and mahogany siding. The only thing that gave away the futuristic nature was the bank of small electronic screens and controls set within the far side of the cab.
“I was expecting a tube to zip me away at two hundred miles an hour,” Malachi joked
“We have more modern pods, but I wanted to have a comfortable ride with you. The best we can hope for is about fifteen miles an hour I’m afraid.”
“Will this take us all the way to the place you were talking about?”
“Heavens no,” laughed Beauchamp, “It’s only about four miles long and that alone cost a fortune. This was designed as an escape route if the need ever arose to get someone to safety and there are many more across the country. You are officially the first actual fugitive to use it. Climb aboard!”
“Thank you.”
Beauchamp pressed a button and a series of light bloomed in the tunnel. After a few hundred feet the tunnel curved and disappeared into gloom, and with a whine the electric motor propelled them away from Claire and the cathedral. A pang of sadness at the separation twisted him up inside and a tear rolled down his cheek. He didn’t want to ask, but needed the answer.
“Did you manage to get Chloe, Kevin, and their family to safety?”
“No, I’m sorry. They were gone when we got there, which could mean they just went to ground as a precaution. We will keep looking and I promise if I get any news I will tell you immediately.”
Long seconds passed as Malachi held his head in his hands, mourning all those that had, or may have, fallen to the evil forces that were trying to kill him. With a deep breath, he looked up into the patient eyes of the cardinal.
“Let’s have it then.”
“As ridiculous as all this may sound, please bear with me as I tell the story,” cautioned Beauchamp, “It is the unvarnished truth and I hope some of what you have experienced will make it easier to believe.”
“Ok.”
“There is a Heaven and a Hell, but not as it is explained in the Bible. The same misinformation applies to the universe and it is all inextricably linked with the awful events you have been involved with,” Beauchamp started and Malachi didn’t argue which was encouraging. If he could be made to understand, he may be convinced to fight.
“I suppose the easiest way to explain it is as a cosmic game, played out between two beings who are unfathomable and infinitely powerful. God, or whatever her true name is, is benevolent. Satan, Lucifer, whatever name he carries between worlds, is purest evil. The universe was created by these two entities to play host to their eternal struggle for dominance with us as their pawns. We may not be the first universe to exist; scholars have concluded there may even be parallel dimensions with the same events unfolding.” Beauchamp could see how pale Malachi had gone, “Anyway, as each world falls to either Heaven or Hell, it is taken out of this plane of existence forever. For the planets where evil is allowed to flourish, this ultimately means Hell on Earth; an unceasing suffering for the enjoyment of the denizens of Hell. Other worlds who reach a state of profound enlightenment are taken into the loving care of God and they live forever in bliss. Ours is engaged in the same battle, with the forces of good and evil fighting to herald the new order. There are millions, if not billions of planets just like Earth going through the same horrors.”
“I have seen some of them! I thought they were just dreams but it has been mentioned they are actual occurrences,” Malachi said with animation, “And did you say God was a lady?”
“All the information we have gathered points towards a female deity, but no one has any solid proof. We aren’t even sure they can be attributed genders. As for your dreams, they are all either events that have happened, are happening, or will happen in the future. At present you are like a caveman trying to understand satellite television, frantically changing channels and seeing scenes from multiple sources with no idea what they mean. In time, you will be able to turn them on and off as easily as a switch.”
“So all that murder and horror was real?” Malachi felt sick.
“I’m afraid so.”
“You’re telling me the creatures I have seen actually exist?”
“Yes, but not in this plane of existence.”
“Then how do you explain what happened to me tonight?”
“The orb you escaped from is made of concentrated demonic energy. Clarence has the ability to gather his power and summon a portal to Hell, but thankfully it takes many months of recuperation otherwise we would be dealing with a daily massacre. Once triggered, the sphere allows beings commensurate to the size of the summoning to pour through. It may have seemed big, but it was only large enough to encapsulate your apartment building. I understand the
creatures that attacked you were insectoid in nature, and about two feet long?”
Bile rose in Malachi’s throat from the memory of the screaming horrors and their infantile features, “Yes… but their faces…”
Beauchamp reached over and patted his leg, “I know, my son. I have read of the beasts in scriptures. They are the children born into hatred and squalor, taken before their time by neglect and violence. Their souls never knew love and they spend eternity yearning for revenge on the human race that abandoned them.”
Malachi was outraged, “How can any being that claims to be benevolent allow babies to go to Hell? I thought the others were evil, but you are all just as fucking bad!”
“Malachi, please calm down. I don’t claim to understand how they think, or why something so abhorrent is possible. What I do know is that every child on this planet is in danger of a fate literally worse than death if the forces aligned against us prevail.”
“And where do I fit into all this shit?” Malachi’s defences were up and it would be a long time before he trusted anyone again. Everyone he had met in the past couple of weeks had an agenda and the secrecy and lies disgusted him.
“Your powers have come about by a series of incidents that seem unrelated, but culminate in an awakening of divine strength. Would you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Do what you want,” Malachi huffed.
“You are an orphan, correct?” Beauchamp asked with genuine sorrow.
Malachi nodded.
“How was their relationship?”
“They loved each other if that’s what you mean,” Malachi bridled.
“Did they fight? Was there ever any occasion where you felt unsafe?”
Malachi could see where this was going, “Never anything serious, in fact I can’t even remember a squabble if I’m honest. Even though we were dirt poor, they always worshipped one another.”
“Interesting. Have you ever hurt anyone physically?”
“A few people,” Malachi replied, satisfied he had shot the first hole in the cardinal’s theory.
“Have any of them been unprovoked?”
“Well, no, but it felt good when I was doing it. Does that sound divine?”
“Retribution in itself isn’t evil. If you sought to hurt them beyond the deserved punishment, then it becomes an act of malice. Was that ever the case? Did you inflict pain just for the thrill?”
Malachi looked at the passing wall, “No.”
“There is no easy way to ask this next question,” apologised Beauchamp, “Are you a virgin?”
Malachi sighed, “Yes.”
“Really? That is surprising as you are an extremely attractive young man,” Beauchamp said with a bemused look.
Malachi couldn’t mask a chuckle, “Are you trying it on?”
“Oh my goodness, no, I was merely articulating my disbelief.” It was the cardinal’s turn to blush. “If I hadn’t taken a vow of celibacy, my predilections lie with the fairer sex.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Malachi smiled.
“I suppose I could have worded it better. I understand you were injured in a fracas recently?”
“You could say that.”
“Would you mind explaining the incident? It may be the final piece of the puzzle.”
“If I must,” Malachi hated the whole episode, “I got stabbed trying to stop a woman from being raped by three men.”
“Really? Would that have been Chloe?”
“Yeah. I met her at Desmond’s bar and scared her away so it was my fault she was even put in danger. Not much of a hero, is it?”
“Nonsense. You put yourself in mortal danger to save her which is truly heroic.”
“Great, another fan.” Malachi leaned forward, wagging a finger, “Listen and listen good. I was shitting myself the whole time, I always do when anything gets physical, but no one else was going to do it. I got knifed and bled out in the hospital. It was only the work of the amazing nurses and surgeons that brought me back from the dead. So stop making out I am this fearless warrior sent by God.”
The cardinal went wide eyed, “You actually died?”
“For several minutes. I even thought I saw my parents in a bright tunnel of light, but that was probably just a hallucination.”
“So in essence you sacrificed your life to save hers.” Beauchamp was on the edge of his seat.
“No, otherwise I wouldn’t be here, would I?”
“It doesn’t matter that you were resuscitated,” he said with excitement, “You crossed over, don’t you understand?”
“Obviously not,” admitted Malachi with a frown.
“It will all become clear soon,” Beauchamp assured him. “I also understand you had a subsequent reunion with your attackers?”
“Who the fuck told you that?” Malachi was on the defensive again. He had been promised that it would never be mentioned.
“Some of the… gentlemen, that saved you have talked to Michael. They are sure you are a shaman, or angel, or both.”
Malachi folded his arms and scowled. Was there no one left he could trust.
“Please, Malachi. This is vitally important,” Beauchamp pleaded, “Did you really forgive the men who killed you? Who tried to rape your friend?”
Cheeks going a deep shade of red, Malachi replied, “Are you trying to call me a coward? Well maybe I am.”
“No that’s not what I meant at all,” Beauchamp exclaimed, “I wanted to be certain of the purity of your heart before I made a final judgement, that’s all.”
“Then judge me, because right now I wish I hadn’t woken up in the hospital. Maybe it was my parents in that light, maybe not, but at least I would be at peace.”
“You mustn’t talk like that,” he scolded.
“Walk a mile in my shoes, then come and tell me how I should be feeling,” Malachi sneered.
“I can’t even begin to imagine what you have been through, my son,” said Beauchamp, “But things are in motion that can’t be avoided. I pray we can convince you of your true value to us, nay to the whole world, before it’s too late.”
Malachi looked at the folded picture of his mother and father, “What am I?”
“To understand that you have to think of yourself as a lump of clay. Everything you have been through has moulded you into the man sat before me today,” Beauchamp started to explain, “A couple of the awful tribulations could have made you a gifted individual, but when you add all of them together you have a perfect combination of circumstances. You come from a house of unadulterated love and compassion, and you too have adopted the traits of your parents. You are chaste, but humble. You have boundless forgiveness in your heart for those who don’t necessarily deserve it, and you gave your life to save the innocence of a stranger.”
“And?”
“And it means that you are an individual with tremendous power. Given enough time and training, you will be more powerful by far than Clarence and the darkness which fuels him.”
“What training? What if I don’t want to fight?” Malachi asked, waiting for the mask to slip and reveal that he was just as much a prisoner with the church as he was with Drake.
“Then that is your choice. We will keep you safe until your dying day when you will be reunited with your parents.”
“You won’t force me?”
“Of course not.”
A mixture of thoughts and emotions raced through Malachi’s head.
“Will I have to kill people?”
“Yes.”
“Will I have to go against monsters like those in the orb again?”
“Yes, and the child demons you fought are nothing in comparison to what is coming. If the enemy gains in power the demon spheres will grow in strength and size until you are facing Hell’s mightiest leviathans and the Demon Lords who command them.”
“And you seriously think I stand a chance?” Malachi laughed sickly.
“I wouldn’t ask you to join us if I doubted it,” stated Be
auchamp with absolute certainty. “Your capabilities are in their infancy and with our help you will be able to unlock your full potential. You will have the power to lay waste to the demonic legions who seek to enslave our world.”
Malachi stared directly at the cardinal, “They have hurt me and the ones I love. I have seen the suffering they inflict on the innocent for their own sadistic pleasure.”
“So you will join us?” asked Beauchamp, barely able to suppress his relief.
“I’m going to crush them all,” growled Malachi vehemently. “Let’s go to war.”
AUTHOR BIO
Ricky Fleet has been a lifelong horror fan ever since he was (almost) old enough to watch the original Romero trilogy. Those shambling horrors gave birth to an insatiable appetite that has yet to be sated. After spending years in the plumbing trade, he then decided to start teaching, passing on his knowledge to the next generation of engineers.
Born and raised in the UK, cups of tea are a non-negotiable staple of the English life and serve as brain fuel for his first love, writing.
Today he shares his time between his real life students and the students of the zombie apocalypse in his first series: Hellspawn. At least the fictional students do as they’re told. Most of the time anyway.
