I Am Satan (Hellbound Trilogy Book 2)

by Tim Hawken

  “Oh, I remember him now!” Smithy said. “Old Rammy, I used to call him on account of his horns. He is nice enough, if a little stuck up.”

  I smiled at the old man’s frankness.

  “Let’s go,” I said. “He’s going to show us to our new home.”

  “Our new home?” Smithy muttered. “What’s wrong with the airfield?”

  “Nothing,” I answered, as I started up the steps to the quickly disappearing Azazel. “It’s only temporary. Until we know what we’re doing.”

  By the time we had reached the oak doors, they were wide open. The gargoyles had disappeared and Azazel was standing in the foyer of the building, waiting for us.

  “Now,” he said. “Until I can get this palace up to standard, I suggest you keep to four rooms. This foyer is one.”

  He turned and strode across the space toward large black doors, which sat in the middle of a staircase that wound down both sides from above. The door had carvings of a mighty battle on it, with dead struggling bodies below and fiery angels flying above them. Above the door was a sword and hammer crossed together.

  “These are the war-rooms,” said Azazel, throwing the black door open.

  Inside was a large conference room. A long rectangular metal table stretched from end to end with six plain, wooden chairs arranged on each side of the table. A throne perched at the head; it was gold, with red cushions and a white canopy that hung from four serpentine support beams. There was a door at each end of the room.

  “Inside each of those doors is a private bedroom,” he said. “One has beds to accommodate twelve people. The other is for one which, I assume, will be yours, Lord Michael. Each will be cleaned within the hour. If you would like to sit here and talk I can have some food prepared.”

  “No food,” I replied. “Please go about your work and take any liberties you think necessary with the house. If I need anything I’ll call. Tomorrow we host a large gathering. I’ll need to consult you on some things later.”

  “Very good.” Azazel left Smithy and I alone in the room.

  “Let us prepare for war, then,” I said to Smithy, taking one of the plain wooden chairs closest to me.

  SEVENTEEN

  SMITHY DID NOT SIT.

  “War?” he asked. “I’m sorry, Michael. When I told you I would follow you to get your love back, I had no intention of fighting an immediate war.”

  “What?” I asked, baffled. “You said we could all gain something from destroying Asmodeus.”

  “And I spoke the truth. But you will not gain the support of the people by rushing headlong into a bloody battle that is likely to destroy most, if not all of us,” Smithy told me. “You must first work for the people. You must unite them somehow.”

  “But what about Charlotte?” I asked. She was the reason I was striving ahead. I could not and would not abandon her, no matter what the consequences.

  “Charlotte is our priority,” agreed Smithy. “And I promise that our first mission will be to find a way to get her back. However, your first act must be to quell the sense of unrest that is out there. You told me you’ve declared in public that Asmodeus no longer rules. If you don’t give those demons a good reason to follow you, there will be chaos. They followed Asmodeus because he promised them a ticket to Heaven. Are you going to promise the same false hope? I personally have only seen a handful of souls pass over to the realm of light in my time here. You must help the people. In doing so, you may help yourself.”

  “Then what do I do?” I asked. “What do I say to them?”

  “I do not know,” admitted Smithy. “I’m just an old soldier. It is a riddle to me how to lead.”

  “A riddle?” I repeated. “Then we must solve the riddle. How can we calm the people of Hell, have them wanting to prepare for a war against their enemy and rescue Charlotte all at the same time?”

  Smithy just shook his head and stared into space.

  “It seems impossible. I can’t solve a riddle that large.”

  “We must,” I said. “Maybe I need to take a walk.”

  “Where are we going?” Smithy asked. I was warmed by his willingness to come with me blindly, wherever I wanted.

  “You stay here and rest,” I told him. “The visions are coming soon. I’m not going anywhere in particular. I just need to think, and I think best on the move.”

  Smithy looked at his watch.

  “You’re right,” he said, “The Guilt will be here in less than an hour. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  I nodded and left the old man to himself.

  I walked back out into the foyer of Casa Diablo. Beautiful paintings hung on the walls all around; the height of renaissance talent was on display in the room. I could easily get used to staring at Rafael, Michelangelo and Caravaggio, but beauty would have to wait for now. The doors of the castle remained open. I walked out onto the steps to see scores of demons, scrubbing, cleaning and polishing everything in view. Azazel had not wasted any time in bringing his joy back. I descended to the lawn and walked straight ahead, along the grass path towards the place I had told Clytemnestra to bring every soul she could muster for my sermon.

  The Forest of the Damned encroached on the south end of the grounds of Casa Diablo. Between the fringes of the forest and the castle was nothing but a field of grass, spanning, from east to west, at least a mile across. The space would be enough to hold over a million bodies and would look gigantic if any less than that turned up. As I walked across the expanse, I took in my surroundings. I needed to see what they would see. I needed to think like they would think if I was to control them.

  To the far left there were the flourishing gardens which led to a wall of hedges. To the right, steam rose up into the air from a hot lake which bubbled endlessly. Below that, lava bled out of a crater in the ground. The constant leak created the river which flowed down to the city.

  The trees of the forest came into view ahead, the black trunks reached out with knotted limbs for the sky above. I moved toward them. The green grass beneath my feet began to turn brown, then grey, before leaving only ashen dust for my footprints. The first of the barky trunks of the forest stared back at me as I continued to walk. The closer I got, the more I started to feel an overwhelming sense of sorrow emanating from the forest into me. It was a sadness I could only start to grasp when I thought of losing Charlotte forever. I reached the first tree, close enough to touch it. I leant out and felt the bark. It was sticky with sap. I looked at the tacky substance that was on my fingers. It was a deep blue. I peered at the tree more closely and saw that the sap was dribbling down from above. Following the trailing lines of liquid to just above the first set of branches, I could see distinctly two alive eyes looking down at me, rolling from side to side in anguish. I jumped back startled. Looking closer I could clearly make out a gnarled face of roots and wood. The mouth was open in a silent scream, the nose a bulging knot of ebony. Above the nose were the eyes. They streamed blue tears, which slowly oozed down to the base of the tree. This was once what Smithy had to endure. I had an immense feeling of pity for it.

  Shaking my head, I peered down through the forest. There were endless souls trapped here. The wood was so dense in places that no light at all shone through. There must have been over a hundred million suicides, stuck for an eternity, weeping in grief. I spotted a narrow path to my right. A brief feeling of urgency prodded me in its direction. Sucking in a deep breath, I tried to block out the sorrow in the air and focus on my own dilemma: How was I to capture the minds of all the souls in Hell. Would I be able to make them follow me as they had followed Asmodeus at the height of his reign? How could I be even better than him?

  Painstakingly, I picked my way through the forest, walking down the narrow pathway and doing my best not to look up at the faces encased in the trunks of the trees. I walked forward, down into the forest.

  How could I succeed where Asmodeus had failed? I asked myself. What was the origin of his evil?

  I could see a cleari
ng opening up ahead of me. The feeling of need, which had made me take the path, grew stronger still. I squeezed in between two thick trunks to emerge into a wide clearing. Right in the center was a solitary tree, standing alone. It was no taller than the rest of the forest, but was twice as thick and wide. It had twisted branches that reached both up and outward. On each branch hung a swinging noose and tied to the bottom of each noose were rosary beads, swaying without any breeze to blow. At the bottom of each set of beads was a white crucifix of bone. The feeling of sorrow in the forest increased and I was drawn in right next to the evil looking growth. I looked up and the sky flashed. The Fires of Guilt began to shoot over the heavens of Hell and down into the forest. Intense grief washed over me from all around. Although I didn’t experience the visions myself, the feelings of melancholy forced me to my knees. I reached out to the tree in front of me to steady myself. As my fingertips touched the trunk, a voice pleaded loudly inside my head.

  “Save us! Free Us!”

  Startled, I pulled my hands away, but the voice echoed again.

  “Save us! Free Us!”

  Horrible images of trapped faces trying to push themselves out of the trees erupted into my head. All the sorrow-filled eyes looked at me, begging for me to help them.

  I pulled myself to my feet, blocking out the images that kept trying to force themselves into my mind’s eye. If I didn’t leave, I was sure I would be overwhelmed, sucked into their sorrow never to return. In fear I fled the clearing. Frantically, I pushed through the black trees, scratching past limbs that cut into me in my haste to be free of the forest. The haunting voice continued to call after me until I ran from the woods and climbed the steps to the safety of Casa Diablo.

  Reeling, I sat on the steps. My head sunk into my knees, as I panted and gasped for air. Blood seeped out of the scratches in my face from where the branches had cut me. Finally, I calmed myself as the Fires of Guilt subsided.

  I looked back toward the forest. Every soul trapped in there had been failed by its creator. God had deserted them. I promised myself that I would not fail where he had.

  A slow movement far below the mountain caught my eye. I stood up, looking down the mountain to the city of Hell below. There seemed to be a moving flow of light exiting the streets and heading for the mountain. It was like a tide of radiance rising towards the base of the foothills.

  “What is that?” I wondered aloud.

  “It’s your pilgrims,” Smithy’s voice said from behind me.

  I looked back up to him. He was staring down into the distance.

  “There are an awful lot of them to be able to see the group from here,” he said. “I hope you know what you’re going to say.”

  “I do,” I answered, following his gaze back down to the mass of flickering lights wandering towards us.

  “I will tell them the truth.”

  EIGHTEEN

  THEY CAME FROM WITHIN THE FOREST. Soul upon demonic soul poured onto the great lawn in front of Casa Diablo. Clytemnestra and the five remaining demon jurors of The Tenth Circle were at their head. I stood on the balcony above the stairs while they gathered. Smithy and Azazel stood at my back. It took hours for the multitude to assemble within the space, and still more came. I watched the entire time, as twice The Guilt swept through their pitiful mass. It was a torment just to see that many people in pain. Whether they deserved it or not, for me, was beside the point. Millions upon millions of people gathered, until the grounds were choked with souls and even more flowed down into the Forest of the Damned. Finally, after each of the pilgrims had awoken from their second wave of Guilty Visions, I spoke.

  “You are here,” I began, amplifying my voice with the elements so all present could hear, “You are here, because you seek the truth. You are here because you have all been deceived for your entire lives into thinking that you may one day redeem your souls and pass to paradise. I am here to tell you, the one who made those promises has misled you. The one that some of you know as Satan, some as Asmodeus, has deserted us. He himself has fled to Heaven.”

  A murmur of anger rose up from the crowd. I continued.

  “He cares not for our souls. He cares only for himself. Asmodeus is not who he claimed to be. He was never opposed to God as he said. He is in fact the God you have despised all along. He himself is the creator. His has lied to you and I am here to deliver the reality: that he has created this Hell especially for our pitiful souls because we are not good enough for him.”

  Another burst of shouting rang from below. I could see some of the heads nodding in agreement, others shouting that I was the one who was the liar. I pressed on.

  “God Asmodeus does not want the wretched; he does not want the weak. He does not even want the strong, or wilful. He wants sheep. He wants us to entertain him with our pathetic lives and follow the rules he has designed for us. He says he has given us freewill, but we have no freedom. When we act out of ignorance, he does not show us the way; instead he sends us to Hell! When we act upon the impulses he has given us, he punishes us! Is this the sign of a loving creator?” I bellowed.

  Shouts of “No!” came up to greet me.

  “No!” I repeated the cries. “He has created us to learn, but to learn slowly. He has given us the chance to disobey his will, but when we do he takes away our other freedoms. Asmodeus has trapped us here against our will!”

  “Yes!”

  “Trapped!”

  Voices rose from below.

  “I am like you all,” I said, feeling the support of the crowded swelling below me. “I am human like many of you were or still are. I am just as much a poor creation as you. I am a fellow child of Asmodeus. I have done evil things. But I am truly sorry for them. I have seen the harm that they have caused me and others. I am now willing to fight for each and every one of you to recognize your own humanity and your own right to live in freedom without fear of being hurt. I believe that inside all of us is the capacity for good without the threat of eternal fire. I believe we can learn to bring equality to this world. We are brothers and sisters and like siblings we will fight together to end this oppression.”

  A roar of approval went up from the mass before me.

  “This fight will not be easy,” I continued as the shouts settled down. “It will not be quick. It will be bloody. There are some who think that their right to morality is above all others. At the top of this hierarchy of evil is Asmodeus and it filters down to demons that even live among us. These demons prey on those weaker than them and serve only their own interests. I am here to say that those of unrepentant and unremitting evil will be destroyed by my hand!”

  The frenzy below began to boil at my words.

  I deliberately lowered my voice, so as not to enflame the gathering into a riot.

  “However, my friends, the biggest battle will not be fought against a tangible opposition. It will be a battle fought within ourselves. We must fight within ourselves. It is a war to rise above our evolutionary instinct to kill or be killed. This is an eternal life. We now have that knowledge and, because we know this, we understand that time is with us. We must be patient. Freedom will be ours!

  “I ask you now to go back to your daily lives with this knowledge: that from this day forth I will do everything in my power to save you. I will do all I can to free you from the barriers that Asmodeus has built between us. These walls of greed, sin and guilt!”

  Another roar of approval rang out from the gathering.

  “The largest barrier that divides us all is my ultimate target. These are the walls between Heaven and Hell. Why should we be thrown down here when others are rewarded for servitude? I will find a way to tear these walls down. When I do, we will all be able to live wherever we like in this ethereal existence. There will be space and abundance for all and we will no longer have to fight to survive. We will be able to search for the true ideal of a free and peaceful existence!”

  The people and demons below cheered in a frenzy of support. I pressed my advantage
.

  “To show you I am intent on pursuing this promise, I give you a sign of my power. It is time we freed our brothers who sit trapped upon this very mountain. I’m talking about our fellow tormented souls who suffer in a prison that Asmodeus has created for the most wretched among us; those who would take their own lives.”

  While my voice echoed above the heads of the audience before me, I looked down to the forest, singling out the one lonely tree in the central clearing. Looking into the elemental structure of the tree I sought what I hoped I would find. The root system of the forest all branched toward that one growth, like veins linking into one heart. Concentrating with all of my skill, I began to uproot the tree. I divided the glowing soul I could see within from the molecular prison of wood and emotion which held it. As I tore the tree from the root system there was an earth shattering reverberation which shuddered through the mountain. The demons who were standing within the forest cowered on the ground, holding their arms over their heads in protection. Radiance sparkled as the atoms of wooden oppression were separated from the souls they encased. As I ripped their souls free, light exploded up into the sky toward the clouds of Hell.

  Slowly the dust and wood of the cosmic event settled down. I peered down into the forest to behold my work. Every tree in the forest was now once more a naked human. The demons who had come from the city stood around them, watching in wonder. Each newly released soul slowly got to their knees and looked up the mountain, at the crowd of millions staring down at them. There was one figure amongst the uprooted forest who was unique in his radiance. He stood to full height, red curling hair flowing to touch his shoulders. A yellow and grey bruise around the middle of his neck stood out clearly against his alabaster skin. The power flowing from him was unmistakable. A faint white aura glowed about him. The naked man began to walk up the mountainside, and a sea of people parted before him. He worked his way over the green field and then paused at the bottom of the staircase of Casa Diablo. A circle of space formed wide around him as spectators looked on to see what he would do. Looking up at me, he got down onto both knees, and shouted with a voice that flooded the air around as mine had.