by Tim Hawken
I felt his warm hand at my shoulder. The touch spread into me, making me slowly relax. I could feel the well of hatred subsiding back into my heart, being pushed back by Zoroaster. My breathing became normal. I flexed my fingers and the veins on my hands sunk back into my skin. The nails stayed as they were.
“Thank you,” Zoroaster said, patting me on the back. “I know that took a toll, but we did a fine job. This will hold, I am sure.”
He held up the keys before my face. They were shining their unusual godly glow. In between the keys sat slightly darker, but still dazzlingly brilliant elements. Their balanced weave held the two keys tightly in what looked like a sideways figure of eight. The beauty of them helped shake the last thoughts of hatred from my mind.
I felt the platform of cloud beneath us begin to slow. Zoroaster and Mary must have felt it too, because we all looked as one down to the meadow below. Far beneath us I could make out the small circle of bubble-shaped rock which marked the center of The Far Reaches.
Zoroaster stood up beside me. He handed the key down to Mary, who took it reverently in her hands. The prophet then raised his hands up to the sky, flicking his fingers in a circular pattern. Wider and wider the circles of his hands became. Elements danced at his will.
The wispy mist above us parted as Zoroaster pushed his finger to point directly upward. As the greyness split like an ethereal sea, the spinning vortex of the Heavenly filter came into view.
EIGHTEEN
THE COLORS OF THE BARRIER TO HEAVEN took my breath away. Unlike the vortex in Hell, which was only black and white, this one had a sparkling metallic sheen to it. Silver and gold twisted in one direction while blue and red spun in the opposite. The four colors wound in and out of each other like a psychedelic braid of light. I could barely make out the spot in the center where it all collided into a single point. Coming from the distance of the city, the unmistakable form of a white soul drifted upward to the filter. I was shining against the grey backdrop below. As the soul drew closer, the gold current bulged downward and sucked it into the flow of power.
Soon, every person in the city of Purgatory will be able to follow that soul into Heaven as they wish, I thought
“Michael, we need to begin,” Zoroaster said from next to me. “I will build the blockade to shield the city. It will run all the way around The Reaches. As I work, I need you to add the same elements to fortify its construction. Once the wall is complete we’ll move closer to the gateway.” He looked over to Mary who was still crouched down, holding the keys tightly in her hands. “You had better hold on,” he said to her.
Mary laid flat on her stomach on our cloud. Zoroaster was perched on one end, with me on the other. We were ready.
Again Zoroaster started his frenzied hand movements. With a clasped fist he motioned down to the ground and then pulled it back up, his arms visibly straining. I looked down to see earth elements being drawn upwards into the wall. I did as Zoroaster had asked and followed his lead, pulling deep brown earth upwards with my will. With a low rumble, a mountainous divide grew from around the outskirts of The Reaches. It started as a peak in the middle and then began to spread across and out to the edges of each horizon. The growing range towered higher and higher, blocking the city completely from view. My legs started to shake with the effort. I looked to Zoroaster. He appeared to be in a Zen state, carefully plucking invisible strings that charmed the elements in the air. I did my best to keep up with him, sending water, fire, love, rationality, air and knowledge down to mimic Zoroaster’s creation. As the mountains rose in a circle around us, we rose higher and higher toward the eye of the vortex.
With a crackling hiss, like hot metal being dipped in water, the fortification reached the ceiling of Purgatory. We were encased within the area of the great filter, solid walls on all sides. The grey meadow of The Reaches shimmered with a dusty molecular residue that had been stirred up from our work. Our cloud had been raised so high that our heads were inches from the flowing swirls of power. A burning wind from the current buffeted our bodies. Right above us, the crystalline fist of rock in the center of the gateway sparked with energy. The roar of the vortex’ flow echoed off of Zoroaster’s blockade around us. I looked down.
“Mary!” Zoroaster shouted above the powerful din of the filter. “When I say, you must force the keys inside the eye of the gateway. I will do all I can to keep these walls intact as the blockage pushes back. Michael,” he said turning to me, “do everything you can to aid in crumbling the integrity of the filter as it hardens. You will have to use the most powerful of your emotions. Draw deep, this will be our only chance.”
I nodded. Mary readied herself in a crouch, the keys locked in her fingers. Zoroaster raised the cloud beneath us a touch higher.
“Now!” he bellowed.
Mary sprung upwards and thrust the key into the heart of the gateway. Purple forks of light encased her arm. She screamed in pain as the forks splintered down her whole body. She threw her head back and wailed in agony. I moved in to help, but with a bang she was thrown thumping back into our platform. The cloud wavered beneath us and I almost toppled over the edge. Scrambling to steady myself, I rushed on my hands and knees to Mary. She was out cold. Her limp body still sparked with electricity. I looked to her hand and the shape of the key had been burned into her palm. Black, blistered skin sizzled a figure eight of infinity.
“Leave her!” Zoroaster yelled. He was still standing, holding out his arms, throwing still more elements outward to the protective wall surrounding us. “Look!” he said, lifting his chin to the sky.
I gazed up. All about, the metallic light of the vortex was starting to slow. The middle no longer glowed purple, but throbbed a dull, pulsing, red light. I could see the end of the keys jutting out of it, like two holding spikes frozen into rock. The roar of the power flow started to subside. Silence dropped around us. There wasn’t a breath of wind, not a ripple of noise. I looked about in anticipation. The gateway was at a standstill. I crouched low, keeping my center of gravity steady. Zoroaster kept pouring layer upon layer of elements onto the wall of earth around us. A constant stream of energy came from his hands as he made the mountains thicker and stronger, so they shone like steel.
I returned my gaze up to the gateway, waiting for something to happen. The eye above us began to glow redder. Brighter it grew, until deathly heat began to seep from it. From all around, a deep groan started. The sound intensified. It was like being in a steel mill. The noise of twisting metal joined with a hellish heat. If I hadn’t endured the fires of torment for so long, I would have been consumed by it. I kept watch above as the groan deepened to a thunderous wail. Suddenly, a great splitting noise rent the air, like cracking ice. Spreading out from the center, hairline fractures splintered across what was once the spinning filter of Heaven.
“Quickly!” Zoroaster spurred me on.
I closed my eyes. I needed to do this right. Digging my feet into the platform below, I drew on my emotion. The misery at having to leave Charlotte rose to the surface. The hatred I felt for Asmodeus boiled. The fear I held at maybe never seeing my wife again, the regret of having to sacrifice our love, every dark vessel of doubt surged within me. I let it build and build. I let it fester. My body started to swell with evil thoughts. My skin started to blister from the inside out with the intensity of feeling trapped within.
Just when I thought I might burst, I unleashed it all upward with a shuddering scream. Opening my eyes, I funnelled the blast directly into the heart of the gateway. I spread it into the cracks and expanded it. I felt the dominance of my wickedness shoot out of me toward the pillars of Heaven. It tumbled forth. The depth of suffering inside me magnified stronger and stronger. My vocal chords turned into clarions of destruction. Black streamed out of me, roaring into the fissures of the great filter. The cracks began to widen as my will pushed them apart. Small splits became inverted canyons that stretched upward into a yawning darkness. I drew on every piece of energy I had inside and wai
led it upward.
From the corner of my vision I saw the first chunk of the gateway fall. It stuck on the side of Zoroaster’s earth barrier with a crunch and then rumbled to the ground far below. Another brick tore lose, then others. From the outside inward, the walls of Heaven started to disintegrate. As each piece fell, it cracked down onto the elemental mountains around us, tearing our construction apart. I heard Zoroaster groan with effort beside me. His exertion in holding the wall together increased. I drew on his resolve and renewed the liquid death that flowed out of me.
A sliver of white light sparkled from above. It shone through the steaming rock of the gateway onto my face. It was glorious. I peered up and could see the beating of an angel’s wings through the cracks. The sliver of light grew wider, then wider still. I could see them: the beautiful souls of Heaven, looking down at me in wonder. I grimaced up at them, remembering that this was all I was going to miss when I was tossed back to Hell. My Charlotte would be lost to me again. I roared up at them and the angels shrank back in terror. A chunk of rock swept down and almost knocked me off my perch. I swayed to the side, grasping for purchase. Another boulder slammed down beside me. I was flipped over onto my back and the energy soaring out of me was cut off. All above, beams of light were pouring through the walls of Heaven. We had done it! We had started the reaction that couldn’t be stopped. I lay there, exhausted, with a numbed feeling of acceptance.
I heard Zoroaster cry out next to me, as a slice of rock hit him. He fell sideways. Reaching out, he grabbed the foot of Mary’s still prone body. Our platform teetered wildly, almost tipping vertically. With the last of my energy I held fast to the top edge above me and tried to reach out to Zoroaster, but it was too late. In horror I watched as Mary and Zoroaster slid off the cloud. They dropped down into the sky that was raining apocalypse. There was nothing I could do.
I swung my weight around, holding the edge of the cloud platform with both hands. Another brick struck my shoulder, almost throwing me off again. I strained through my exhaustion to stay balanced. I wanted to see this finished.
“Michael!” I heard a ringing voice from above. I clung onto the edge with my fingers and smiled with grim satisfaction at the noise. I forced myself to look upward. The shadowy form of Asmodeus was blazing down at me in hatred. He was standing directly over me, his feet either side of the wavering eye of the gates.
“What have you done, Michael?” my father boomed.
“I have done as you asked,” I laughed insanely back to him. “I have brought you new souls. I have given Heaven all the soldiers you are going to need, because next it will be Hell that rises up to your feet.”
“No!” he shouted in pure anger and frustration. “No!”
“Yes!” I spat. “And there is nothing you can do to stop us.” With that I let go of the platform and shot a final terrifying shudder of elements into the eye of the gateway. As I freefell downward, the destroyed filter shattered completely. It blasted into oblivion with a blinding flash of white light.
The last thing I saw was my father’s head thrown back in rage as I felt myself tearing back down to the flames of Hell.
EPILOGUE
FLAT ON MY BACK, I STARED AT THE BLACKNESS. I knew where I was. It was where I belonged: Hell. I moved my fingers over my palms. They were claws that scratched my skin. It didn’t matter. I was who I’d become by choice.
Clytemnestra would come for me soon. She would have to know I was here, in this same room where I had begun my journey so long ago. It was my room, my cell of darkness.
I waited patiently, thinking of what my next move should be. I would gather my army of demon friends, my lost souls. We were now one step closer to equality in the universe, to freedom. The scales might be tipped towards Asmodeus for now, but we could not fail. Our power of strength would become unstoppable. The truth was our weapon, destiny our goal.
I did not feel any pride in what I had done in Purgatory, no lasting satisfaction. To sacrifice the only thing I’d ever cherished for the greater good was too bitter a pill to swallow. I sat up slowly, thinking of Lotte. Lost again. Waiting. Zoroaster would have to keep her safe. I trusted him.
“I’m coming for you my love,” I whispered into the air.
There was a knock at the door. I got to my feet and stood in the darkness, waiting for a few moments.
“Come,” I finally said with authority.
Red light seeped into the room as the door opened. The silhouette of a womanly figure stood in the entry silently. I drew myself to full height and gathered white elements of light to illuminate the room.
“Get the war room ready,” I said, as my sight adjusted to the light. “We have a battle to plan.”
Mary stepped through the doorway, looking at me with her brilliant emerald eyes. I was surprised to see her and not Clytemnestra. She was in a long black dress which contrasted sharply with her pale skin.
“Mary!” I said with relief, letting my guard down. I moved in to hug her lightly. “I’m glad you’re safe. I lost you in the storm in Purgatory. We did it. The barrier is gone. Their souls are now free.”
“I knew you would finish it,” she smiled, nodding.
I stepped back to look her up and down properly.
“Are you okay? Were you hurt in your fall back to Hell?”
“I’m fine,” she said, holding up her hands. The scar from the keys was still etched firmly into her palm. I took her wrist and looked at the mark. It was dark pink.
“Oh that,” she said as I studied it. “I imagine I’ll have that scar forever. It hasn’t healed fully since I returned to Hell. It doesn’t hurt. I see it a badge of honor and a reminder of our quest.”
I let her hand drop back down. Our quest. What was our next move?
“We need to assemble the others,” I said. “We need to start planning for a new assault on Asmodeus.”
“They’re already waiting at Casa Diablo,” she replied. “Your soul has been long in finding its way back here. It’s been days since I returned.”
“Then there is no time to waste.” I moved to push past her. “Asmodeus will not be so idle in his plans.”
Mary put out a hand to stop me. I stepped back again. She looked up at me, smiling brilliantly. The look in her eyes made me nervous.
“There is someone I want you to meet first,” Mary said, looking behind her. “There is a new soldier here that I wanted to introduce before we leave. I want your approval.”
I paused, wary of another deception like that of John Joseph. I needed people I could trust, not untested recruits. This was going to be a war against deception.
“Who is he?” I asked suspiciously.
Mary smiled wryly. “Actually, you know her,” she said, stepping aside.
A beauteous vision of perfection came into the room.
“It’s me,” said the woman in a voice of pure innocence.
It couldn’t be. I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. My mouth hung open. I stepped forward and pulled my hand up to touch the face of this angel. I needed to see if she was real or if I’d lost my mind in Purgatory. Her warm cheek felt soft to touch.
“Lotte?” I choked. “Lotte is that you? How?”
I was carefully running my spiked fingers over her arms, wanting to see that she was real, but trying not to hurt her with my claws. My heart was thumping in my ears, my eyes roving all over her. Was it really her, my wife? She was supposed to be in Heaven.
“It’s okay, Michael,” she said softly, holding my hands steady in hers. She squeezed her fingers around my palms. “I’m here. With you.”
“But how?” I repeated, confused. Her perfect soul should have been taken to Paradise with the rest of Purgatory. I didn’t know what to say.
“Mary whispered me some womanly advice before you left,” she said softly, looking over to the woman at our side. “She told me that if I really wanted to be with you, to stand by you, then all I had to do was hold the same hate for Asmodeus in my heart as you hav
e.”
I stared questioningly into her eyes.
“It wasn’t even a choice,” Lotte continued quickly. “He has done despicable things to both of us, Michael. He needs to be finished. I am here for you, my love. We can do this together.” She gripped my hands tightly.
I looked back to Mary. She nodded at me, smiling.
“It’s her, Michael. This is no trick.”
I switched my view to behold the elements. I searched the room for deception. It was all as it should have been. There were no veils or mirrors, just the natural weave of molecules that make up the universe. My vision snapped back to a worried looking Charlotte. I reached out with my senses and felt overwhelming love coming from her.
“Are you okay, Michael?” she asked. “Have I done something wrong? I just wanted to be with you.”
Without further hesitation I hugged her tightly, pressing my body into hers.
“Lotte!” I cried. “No, you haven’t done anything wrong. I love you. I just wasn’t sure. Thank you. I, I –we’re together!” I hugged back into her.
“We’re together,” she whispered back in my ear. She kissed my cheek, and then found my lips. She kissed me hard before stepping away. Her eyes locked with mine, a vicious light shining in them that I hadn’t seen from her before.
“We can now bring the tyrant Asmodeus to the vengeful end he deserves,” she said fiercely. “We will kill our maker and free ourselves from his grasp. Are you ready, Michael? I am here to help build your army.”
“I am ready,” I said, quietly but firmly.
She flashed a dark smile at me. The white light of the room glinted off her new, wolf-like teeth. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
FOR MORE OF TIM’S WRITING VISIT
WWW.TIMHAWKEN.COM
Table of Contents
Title
Copyright
Contents
Part One: Gnarlitas
