by Tim Hawken
I AM SATAN
I AM SATAN
Book Two of the Hellbound Trilogy
TIM HAWKEN
First Published in Great Britain 2012
by Rethink Press
© Copyright Tim Hawken
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publishers prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Cover Illustration by Christopher Page
Contents
Part One: Gnarlitas
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Part Two: Providence
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Part Three: Veritas
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Epilogue
PART ONE
GNARLITAS
PROLOGUE
I AM POWERLESS TO ACHIEVE MY AIMS, so I gather other strength. My love, my soul, my Charlotte lies in Limbo, while I’m stuck in Hell. My torment is that she is trapped while he is free. It is the worst torture imaginable. I care not for myself, or my own wellbeing, only hers. I will free her, but I do not know how. There must be a way.
ONE
BREATHE.
Breathe.
THE HATRED BUBBLED just below my calm surface, like an undertow beneath the waves trying to rip my soul away from a sense of reason. I concentrated on my breath, lest I lose control of my eternal rage.
God is not what you have all been led to believe. He is not all good. He is black and white and all the shades of grey in between. He is more than human in the worst possible way: imperfect. His biggest sin is his pride; something that I will shatter before his eyes.
He had trapped me down in Hell by weaving a complex web of deceit. It was part of his wider plan to give me the power to rule the lost souls of the damned. My destiny, he said, was to reform to sinners of the universe and guide them back to Heaven. I wouldn’t disappoint him in that. I will lead all the demons in Hell to salvation, I thought. But their salvation will not be in the passing over to Heaven into his arms, it will be in his eternal destruction.
I stood up. My fate to that point couldn’t be altered, but my will to control the events of my future was resolute. For too long, I’d been dwelling on the events that had left me forsaken. It was time for action.
But where was I to begin? I was alone in that room, the firelight throwing ghostly shadows on the wall. I had been there for what felt like an eternity, thinking of my wife Charlotte, of Gideon, of Satan. Of God who is Satan and now calls himself Asmodeus. They are the same being. It was impossible, yet it was so. I had to accept it for truth before I could move on.
Walking over to the flickering fire that blazed in the hearth at the end of the room, I gathered the elements of water about my hand. I took each of the blue points of light from around me and melded them together into a flood in my palm. Thrusting a torrent of liquid into the flames I quenched them into a sodden stink of black ash. I watched as the smoke wisped up to the ceiling and spread away, like lost dreams. The smell of burnt wood made me think of my wife’s last moments on earth. What was I waiting for?
With the greatest of efforts I opened the door of the room. Across the hall were the shimmering silver doors of an elevator I knew only too well. I pressed the button to ascend to the top of the infernal building. I wanted to view my new dominion.
The doors opened with a sharp bing. I stepped inside and pressed the button for floor 666. The number of the beast crept upwards on the counter as my stomach lurched into my shoes. The same music played from the speakers above that I had heard over a year before. The memories of my journey through Hell swept over me like a tide of nausea: mine and Charlotte’s murder in the name of God, and my quest to get her back. I had journeyed through Hell to find out who I was, and found darkness. The blind prophet, Phineus, had led me to the powerful Perceptionist who had taught me to wield the powers of the elements. I was now a god in all but name: a human god. But in the end I’d failed. In my quest to save Charlotte I had damned myself to an eternity in Hell and her to an eternity in Limbo, sitting in Purgatory without any knowledge of what had become of her husband. I’d been beaten by Satan Asmodeus. Beaten by God. He will pay, I thought.
Bing. The doors of the elevator opened up to a lushly carpeted room with windows from floor to ceiling. The world of Hell was sprawled out below. It looked exactly the same: spidery webs of streets tangled around pillars of sin. Mount Belial still stood out like a sentinel of power against the bloody skyline. In the distance the lakes, The Three Eyes of Satan, still swirled with their twisted kaleidoscopic mists of sulphur. Before me the gaudy streets of the suburb of Smoking Gun still shone with neon falsity. It all revolved around in chaos, the thundering skies streaked with lighting and hate. Clouds boiled, red and black above the city. I wondered if the souls down there had noticed that their master had been missing for more than a year.
“It’s all the same,” I said aloud to myself.
“No, it’s changed,” a deep voice growled from the corner.
I spun around in shock. I’d thought I was alone in the room. In the corner sat a raven-haired goddess. She was wearing a silky, black dress. Her hair, pulled back tight and wrapped in a bun, had a curved knife stabbed through as the lynch pin. Two rows of white, razor-point teeth framed by black gums smiled at me. The woman sat in a red, velvet chair.
“Clytemnestra,” I said, recognising Satan’s receptionist. “What are you doing up here?”
“I could ask you the same thing, Michael,” she rasped. We stood there staring at each other in silence, each weighing the other up.
“The Lord Asmodeus is missing,” she finally said. “I don’t know where he is, or when he’ll return. Of course this isn’t the first time he’s been gone for an extended period of time, but it is the first time he hasn’t left someone in charge. I’ve been struggling to organize the new souls who are flooding down here like never before. There are already those taking matters into their own hands, inflicting what they call justice on each other, with no one to mediate. Some are beginning to question the leadership value of someone who doesn’t appear t
o care. I need help.”
For the first time I noticed the intense look of exhaustion on her face. Beneath her dangerous beauty, she looked like a weathered piece of leather, browned and cracked at the fringes.
“Asmodeus has gone for good,” I replied firmly. “I am the new ruler here. This Hell is now mine. I will help you.”
I thought for a moment. “Actually,” I corrected myself, “you will help me.”
“Gone for good?” she scoffed. “Where would he go? He can only survive on Earth for short periods of time before coming back down to Hell.”
“He has gone to Heaven,” I said flatly. “He won’t be coming back.”
A brief expression of distress twisted her features, quickly followed by a wry smile.
“Heaven, Michael?” She laughed. “Where is he? Is he hiding behind the doors? Or is that you, Asmodeus? Have you destroyed Michael and taken on his appearance for some reason?”
I shook my head slowly. Clytemnestra studied me through narrowed eyes which flitted up and down my form, looking for a sign of deception. I stood silent, holding her gaze. She approached carefully, as you would a wild animal. Finally, standing toe to toe with me, she reached out with sharp-nailed hands and pulled me close, pressing her body tight against mine.
“It’s okay, Asmodeus, you can confide in me. You share all your secrets with me.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I simply stood still. She rubbed her hands over my chest, breathing heavily into my ear. She eased her hand down to rest on my groin. Her tongue flicked out from her luscious lips and wetly licked my neck. I shoved her away roughly.
“He obviously didn’t share this secret,” I snapped. “The one you know as Asmodeus, or Satan, is actually the being you hate the most. He is God.”
Clytemnestra cackled a lunatic laugh as she looked me up and down. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds, Michael?” she said. “He’s worked tirelessly for thousands of years to destroy God and his work. Asmodeus embodies all that is desire. He is sex, He is murder, He is blood. Now you tell me he is the false light that shines in Heaven? It’s, it’s…. ludicrous.”
“I don’t expect you to believe me,” I replied. “But why should I lie? What do I have to gain?”
“You’re claiming the ruling power of Hell and you ask what you have to gain?” She laughed, smoothing her black hair and dress. “You wait until he returns. You’ll be tortured for your insubordination. He’ll feed you to Moloch,” she spat. Walking over to the large glass windows, which overlooked the furnace of Hell city, she mumbled to herself:
“What am I going to do? How can I control this place on my own?”
“You won’t have to,” I said again firmly. “You can help by being my administrator and showing me the ins and outs of Hell, but I will do the controlling. I will keep the demons at bay.”
I wondered exactly what it was I would do. The last thing I wanted was to bow to Asmodeus’ wish and continue reforming these souls for him. But without some kind of intervention this Hell would tear itself apart. Then how would I be able to rescue Charlotte?
“The weakest of demons here could destroy you in an instant!” Clytemnestra interrupted. “You’re but a baby to the afterlife. Even if you are the son of Asmodeus.”
So she knew part of the truth, at least. I am the Devil’s child. I am the Antichrist. I didn’t say a word. I just turned from her to look out of the window, over Hell.
“Asmodeus would not leave me down here,” she continued frantically, almost to herself. “He wouldn’t leave you here either. He told me his plans. He said He wanted a general to help command his armies in the final battle, and that that leader would be you. But this was to be executed over a hundred years, with training and planning. We would stop turning people to the other side and build an army against God. I don’t understand how this could have changed. He wanted to rule over the universe, sitting in Heaven with me at his side.”
I looked to her. She appeared half insane, half scared. I felt pity for her. She had been lied to, just as I had.
“You’re not the only one he has deceived,” I said softly. “He’s tricked us all. He hasn’t revealed his true self to anyone until now. Asmodeus is the one you hate most; he is both Satan and God,” I repeated. “I now know the truth because he revealed it me. At the beginning of time God split his single personality into two vessels: one good, one evil. He did it to test his powers. He tossed the evil side into this Hell, which He created to help cleanse souls of their sins before going to Heaven. Now, after thousands of years of being apart, your so-called Lord has reunited himself back into one body. That creature now rules in Paradise, while we left are here to fester and reform his tainted souls for him, so all can pass over to his loving arms. But He doesn’t know love. He didn’t create us from good will. We were created for entertainment. He will not get what he desires. He will not get his precious souls. He will get all the hatred he deserves and more. He is no longer even the one true God: He is Asmodeus. The evil side dominates his will. We must end him.”
An idea had begun to form in my mind. We would continue his plan as Clytemnestra had said. We would stop turning people to the other side and slowly build an army. We would storm the gates of Heaven and kill Asmodeus. But my first desire was to save my love Charlotte from Limbo. She could then stand by my side in the final battle.
How can I control the demons in Hell long enough to do this? I asked myself.
I turned to look out to Mount Belial where Satan’s home, Casa Diablo, stood. The mountain was a black, twisted crag of rock, covered in a forest of demented trees. It was the one place that every demon in Hell knew well, yet was forbidden to go to unless invited.
“Spread the word for all in Hell to come to the summit of the Mount in three days, where the Forest of Damned meets the ground of Casa Diablo,” I said to Clytemnestra as I walked toward the windows, which stretched from floor to ceiling all the way around the room. “I will deliver a sermon to them. I will show them who the ruler of this place is. They will hear what I know. I will keep them at bay.”
Clytemnestra started to say something behind me, but stopped as I raised my arms, and spread them wide above my head. I let the view of the elements seep over my vision. I could see all the colorful particles which make up the universe: fire, water, air, earth, spirit, emotion, intellect, desire. The infinity of colors shone in a collective mass. I could see it all; see its construction. And to see is to know. I could manipulate all to bow to my rule.
I focused my attention on the window in front of me. Rather than shatter it into a million pieces, I simply stepped through the weave of atoms, which made up its mass. As my feet touched the air beyond, I solidified an invisible path beneath me and began walking toward Casa Diablo.
Clytemnestra didn’t see the elements. All she saw was me passing through a plate glass window and marching with purpose through the sky, toward Mount Belial. It would be enough to convince her I was worth listening to.
TWO
I STRODE THROUGH THE AIR towards Satan’s old home, walking above the inferno of Hell. The heat pressed against me. It threatened to consume me. I could have cocooned myself in cool elements, but I let the oven bake me. I embraced the pain. Physical torment was nothing compared with my anguish at losing Charlotte to Limbo.
I would gather a storm against Asmodeus. All the tainted souls in Hell would follow me. My plan was to give a magnificent show of power and recruit them to my cause. I would unite them under a banner of revenge and charge the gates of Hell, with a ferocity never before witnessed.
But how? Why would they follow me? I was just another one of them; another lost soul in the depths of Hell.
There was one other being wise enough and powerful enough to help me succeed: The Perceptionist. I looked toward Casa Diablo. The mountain would have to wait. I needed answers and I needed time. The Perceptionist had both.
Gathering the elemental air behind my back, I began to fly rather than walk. My c
ourse veered over the shimmering City of Hell, over the chief suburb of Smoking Gun towards its darkest corner, Satan’s Demise. The furnace-wind buffeted my face as I soared. The red and black of damnation whipped past me at a blur. As the darkness of Satan’s Demise descended around me, I slowed my flight, hovering for a moment above the evil suburb. It wouldn’t be smart to barrel into The Perceptionist’s home unannounced. I would need to approach with caution. Last time I was expected. That wasn’t the case now.
As I floated softly to the ground I looked around. Every building around me appeared identical. There was no pattern, just street after street of dilapidated structures lining the road. Shadows were shrouded within shadows. There were no markers or signs I could use to get a bearing. I had no idea where I was going. Mack the cab driver had brought me to the correct laneway last time. This time I was lost in a labyrinth of deserted streets.
Without a better plan I simply started to walk. The emptiness enveloped me in darkness. Foot over foot I moved through Satan’s Demise. I didn’t recognize anything. It seemed hopeless.
A faint scrape sounded behind me. I turned, but there was nothing there. I kept walking through the streets trying to find a building or a lamppost, anything that would help me figure out where to go. Another scrape sounded to my left, then right. It was a creeping noise, like claws being dragged on concrete. My first instinct was fear. I stopped and listened. Click, click, scrape. Click, click scrape. The sound began to quicken, but wasn’t coming from any particular direction, never even from the same direction. Remembering my elemental powers, I forced myself to stay calm. Creating a light around me I pushed it outward, trying to illuminate the assailant.
Then I saw it. Or rather, I saw them.
All around me sat hundreds of grotesque creatures. They were perched in windows, on buildings, and peering out from gutters. They were the size of big dogs, with small spikes protruding in random places about their canine bodies. Elongated muzzles snarled in a hideous chorus, scrunching back to bare horrid teeth. They had sharp, bird talons for feet, which scraped along the gravel beneath, creating the grating sound I’d heard. Slowly the creatures gathered in a pack around me.
