Venom of the Gods

by Sebastian Chase

  "Open it," I said. He approached the door and reached for the knob. I prepared to charge once he swung it wide enough. Grabbing the knob, his hand turned insanely slow, but I thought that maybe it just appeared that way because I was going into a hyper-speed mode. The door crept open millimeter by millimeter, until at last I had the space to enter. I roared forward and stopped, looking around at the empty room that contained only one thing; a large vault door on the other side. No terrorists were in sight.

  "Where are they?" I asked, turning around, but my hostage had already turned the corner running away. I decided to let him go.

  I walked to the heavy silver door and was about to force it, when I noticed that it was already opened slightly. I pulled the handle, opening it wide. Before me lay three men and none of them were sipping champagne. I recognized the president, who had a bullet hole in his head. The other two I couldn't recognize because their faces were obliterated.

  Behind me, I heard footsteps running fast down the stairs. I spun around in time to see two men enter the short hallway and raise awkward-looking double-barreled rifles. Within a fraction of a second, I realized that I was in a trap and that the strange looking weapons were undoubtedly loaded with Samael's virus.

  I looked around for cover, dismayed at how small the vestibule was. My only options were either to hide in the vault or to charge forward. I was never one to run from a good fight. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!

  I jumped into the air and flew towards the terrorists, which appeared to be a tactic they weren't prepared for judging by the shock on their faces. They realigned their rifles and fired simultaneously. I watched as the bullets approached and then I arced sideways and down, avoiding viral misery by a hair's width. Another bullet was set free but fired in panic, causing it to slam into the wall. By then I was upon them. Both of their bodies shattered as I drove them a foot into the stone wall.

  Picking myself up, I smiled at my small victory. I turned and stepped up the first stair, ready to formulate my next plan of attack, but stopped when I heard a chuckle. Looking up, I saw a man standing just a few stairs above me. It was my former hostage, grinning while pointing what appeared to be another virus-loaded rifle at me. The crazed-eyed terrorist took a step backwards, but was still too close for my speed to be an asset. With a quick jerk of the gun, he indicated that I should follow. I could tell that he was on edge, so I raised my arms and complied with his wishes, not wanting him to shoot in panic.

  I exited the stairs as he stood back several feet, holding the rifle firmly, pointing it at my midsection. An opportunity to safely disarm him hadn't arisen yet, but I felt confident that it would soon. He followed me closely from behind as we traversed the halls of the palace and exited the front door.

  "Stop!" he ordered once we were in the center of the pebbled courtyard. "Mustafa! Where are you, Mustafa? I have the beast!" he yelled into the air. There was no response. I had a feeling that Mustafa had been one of my victims.

  "Mustafa?" I said with my back still to him. "That's not very French. Where did Samael find you guys?"

  "Shut up! Get on the ground now or I will shoot!"

  The way I saw it, I had two choices. I could either do as he asked, or spin around and grab the rifle. If I chose to attack, he stood back far enough to be able to get a shot off, yet close enough that I would have a hard time avoiding the round. Ultimately, I decided to lie down as he desired.

  "Happy?" I asked into the dusty pebbles beneath me.

  "Roll over, pig devil!" he screamed. I worried hard about him probably having a hair-trigger.

  Slowly I rolled over, and found myself greeted by the rifle's double barrels a few feet from my face. He still wasn't close enough to disarm risk free, playing it smart, much smarter than I had. My only hope was to role away as he fired, but since he was so close and probably had two shots, it wasn't much of a hope. I tensed, readying myself for what was to come.

  "Praise be to Raphael!" he shouted. His trigger finger tightened.

  Chapter 32

  I kept my eyes locked on the trigger as he squeezed it, preparing to time my roll as best I could. Just as I decided it was time for me to move, he froze, finger and all. A confused look washed over his face, and I couldn't determine if that was good or bad. He still pointed the rifle at me, but seemed far away, his eyes now looking through me.

  As I considered my options, his Arab-brown eyes started to haze over with white, and then that was replaced by blue. It wasn't a regular blue though, but an intense sky blue that radiated out as if from a glow stick. His finger relaxed and the muzzle of the gun went down to the ground.

  "Hello, Michael," my captor said, still with a heavy middle-eastern accent.

  "What…what is going on?" Confused, the words stumbled out of me.

  "It is I, Ra, although I believe they call me God now. It would be arrogant to introduce myself as God though, I imagine."

  "But how?" Lying in the pebbles, I doubted my senses in every way, and wondered if I were actually dead—shot by my captor and having a lucid death experience.

  "It has always been within me the ability to leave my body and possess the humans. Initially, I could only observe through their eyes, but I have had considerable practice the last hundred years, and can do much more with them now. I have not had my own body to return to since Samael imprisoned it." His occasional twitches of the eyes and lips, the flinches in the arms and hands, were disconcerting.

  "Can you take your finger away from the trigger?" I asked as I pulled myself off the ground. "You might accidently pull it." He moved his finger to the outside of the trigger guard to my relief.

  "It takes me some time to possess them fully," he said.

  "Thank you." Standing in front of him, I dusted myself off and then looked up. "Samael is wreaking havoc around the world. You need to jump into his body and take him over to end it."

  "I am sorry, but I cannot. Of our kind, I only have a connection with your mind. I created us that way, knowing you would be my champion."

  "Wonderful. What do you suggest then?"

  "Continue on your path. I will assist you as I can."

  "On my path? What path? In case you haven't noticed, I'm winging it." For a second, I thought he was winking at me, but then realized it was an eye twitch.

  His mouth fell open, then closed. His lips puckered as if for a kiss, and then relaxed before he spoke. "While it may feel that way, I assure you that you are not winging it. Your destiny is already written."

  "I sure as hell wish someone would let me read that book," I said.

  "If you did, the horrors it contains would deter you."

  "Sounds like I have a lot to look forward to. Can you tell me where Samael is then? I need to kill him."

  "You are not strong enough to kill him alone."

  "What! Of course I am…"

  "No!" he cut me off, seeming to have full control of the body now. "Samael has prepared well. You and I must work together."

  "How would you suggest we do that? I know! I'll carry you around in my head, while you whisper mystical bullshit to me."

  "Samael wants my venom," he said, ignoring my sarcasm.

  "Why?" I perked up. At last he was giving me some useful information.

  "It is what takes your memory away, but he has found other uses for it."

  "Your venom is the potion Nostradamus gave me?"

  "Yes."

  "Then you were…Nostradamus?"

  "I occupied his body for a purpose."

  "Stop hiding behind masks and riddles!"

  "There is a destiny that I must move forward. I cannot risk people, especially you, refusing to play their roles." He shifted the rifle from one hand to the other, reminding me that we were in the middle of a war zone. I looked around, scanning for enemies, but all seemed quiet with the exception of the sound of a small whining engine in the distance.

  I looked him in the eye. "You don't control me, Ra."

  "Michael, you are my right
hand. We must purge the Earth of evil together."

  "You sound just as whacked as Samael. Why can't you two just marry nice girls, adopt a kid or two, get a dog, and be happy?"

  "The world needs you. I need you," he said. The engine sound grew louder, sounding like a motorized scooter running at full speed.

  "I need your venom, too," I said. "Unlike you, I prefer the normal life of a suburban husband and father, and your venom can give me that. Where's your body?"

  "That is acceptable. Whatever motivates you forward. Samael gained control of the Eye, and used it to imprison me. Once he realizes your potion and my venom are one in the same, he will—" Ra stopped and looked towards the main gate and then back at me. "We've run out of time. The great fire will test your resolve, Michael. Persevere," he said, sounding like his Nostradamus incarnation.

  A pale-yellow scooter carrying a large man roared through the open front gate. The man raised his arm, at the end of which was a pistol. He fired a shot. Ra's eyes went big; muddy brown flowed like liquid through the blue of them. Ra was gone. Slowly, like a great tree in the forest, the soldier fell to the ground. There was a bullet hole in his head.

  The scooter skidded to a halt next to me, a smiling George astride, his pistol held high in his good hand.

  "What a shot!" he said proudly. "That's a nasty-looking gun he has. Loaded with virus?"

  "Yeah, and you just killed God," I replied, staring at the dead soldier.

  "Huh?"

  "Why are you back?"

  "I couldn't just abandon you after what you did for me with that mob. You're welcome."

  "Where's Monique?"

  "She decided to head to the foundation's estate instead of the plane. She grabbed a cab, and I borrowed the scooter. Where's the president?"

  "Dead before we got here."

  "Bloody hell. What now?"

  "I take over as interim leader of France, demand a meeting with Samael, and kill him."

  "Oh, sure, no problem," he said sarcastically. "Grab that rifle of his and hop on. I'll take you to the big fancy house."

  "Is there equipment there I can use to address the nation?"

  "Sure. We always like to address the nation just before bed." He gave me a don't-be-stupid look. "Of course there isn't, but we can get some press people in pretty quick."

  "Sounds good. Let's go before this place is overrun with reinforcements." I reached down and picked up the gun, looking into the dead man's eyes in the process. They were blank, with no sign that a god had ever once occupied his body. After slinging the rifle's strap over my shoulder, I hopped on the back of the little scooter, suddenly feeling like I was in a comedy movie as we putted out of the main gate. The carnage of headless soldiers lying in the road quickly brought me back to reality.

  Once we were a safe enough distance from the palace, I made George give up his beloved scooter and, following Monique's example, we caught a taxi. At first the driver balked at our battle-ravaged appearance and the rifle we carried, but a hefty tip convinced him that we were the good guys.

  As we drove into the countryside, I found myself lost in thought. Ra had been a brilliant yet eccentric scientist in our world. His brilliance had translated into God-like powers in this reality, yet he rarely involved himself in the squabbles of men or gods; he preferred to observe his creations as if they were a cherished experiment. Maybe we were just that, an experiment he concocted for amusement in his lab one boring evening. Who can comprehend the mind of God? I had assumed that Samael had dispatched Ra's body, sending our creator back to the realm of dark energy, but Ra said he was imprisoned in the Eye. Surely, he had not meant the London Eye Ferris wheel; no, it had to be the Eye of Ra. The Eye was the otherworldly machine of Ra's that could create gods…or destroy them. I had to find it. If I could free Ra, he would put Samael in check, and with the help of his venom, I could return to a normal life and raise my daughter in safety.

  The taxi drove on, deep into the French countryside where farmers toiled away on their land, just as unaware as I was that modern civilization was about to end. Armageddon had arrived.

  Chapter 33

  Several days had passed since George and I made our escape from Paris. During that time, the French president of the Senate chose to take leadership of the country. An American drone killed him within two hours of that decision, deterring any other politicians in the succession order from taking the post. After offering them proof of my powers, they gladly handed the reigns to me with wishes of luck. I would hold the office until the Senate could arrange a new presidential election, but no one was brave enough to run until I settled the matter of Samael.

  I looked out over a crowd assembled on manicured grounds, comprised of politicians, average citizens, and news reporters from every part of the globe. After taking a deep breath, I embarked on my first nationwide address. "Thank you for coming. As some of you already know, my name is Michael Moreau, and I have been handed the position of interim-president of France." My voice echoed through loudspeakers across the countryside. I paused a few moments under the overcast sky, while reporters excitedly spoke into phones or texted news outlets confirming the rumor.

  Using my last name and the forged birth certificate from my previous life, I convinced the French that I was one of them, and therefore eligible to assume power. Behind me stood the big fancy house George had spoken of, which was really a French castle that Andre had purchased and renamed Chateau de Moreau. It was solid and defendable, leading me to make it my base of operations.

  The chatter died down and I continued, "I understand that my appointment has created much concern and even dissent around the country. I want to assure the citizens of France that the authority granted to me is temporary and will only last until the end of the crisis." Many skeptical faces looked at me. Europeans feared dictators, rightfully so. "My powers are also limited in that I only have the power to confront the crisis, and not to modify the laws or Constitution in any way. Your elected leaders will continue to run the country internally."

  "You lie!" someone shouted in French from the audience. I watched several people unfurl a banner that demanded my arrest. They began chanting that I would bring death and despair to France. Security forces moved in on them as cameras watched, creating havoc in the audience as a whole.

  The scene before me was surreal, striking me as very World War II like. Armed soldiers stood vigilant guard everywhere, entrenched Leclerc tanks held the castle's perimeter, and ground-to-air missile batteries were strategically located to provide cover from drones. Several key members of Parliament and the deceased president's Cabinet had relocated to Chateau de Moreau, mainly to reassure the people that I would not become a tyrant. This seemed to do little to alleviate such fears.

  "Please. Please, stay calm," I urged, holding my hands in the air. Soldiers led the protestors away, still shouting and trying to resist. "They will be freed to share their views outside of this assembly." I didn't want to foster the notion that I kept those who disagreed with me in concentration camps. With order restored, I felt the moment fast approaching when my words would drastically change the world.

  "The crisis I speak of has sent every nation into turmoil. Elected leaders and dictators alike are being killed if their countries do not surrender. I know who is killing them. Yesterday, both England and Japan succumbed to this person. Today, it appears Australia and Canada will fall, and within a week, Germany and China will assuredly surrender. The person that all of these great nations are bowing to? He claims to be an angel named Raphael, but he is lying!" The crowd erupted in confused murmurs, as many had come to believe that Samael was a true savior. It amazed me what humans would believe with just a little levitation as proof. My turn would be coming soon.

  "I knew the Archangel Raphael, and the man currently taking over the world is no Raphael." I lowered my voice to a near whisper and said, "Open your eyes. Would an angel known for his love and healings kill to gain power?" I picked up a coffee cup and took a drink,
giving them time to think. The cup contained blood, which I now drank constantly to be sure my strength was always at maximum.

  "The true name of your so-called savior," I continued. "Is Samael. For those of you unfamiliar with this name, it is because newer religious texts have mostly been cleansed of it. The name that the Jewish give Samael is the Angel of Death, and many Christians would know him as Satan. This person, Samael, actually killed the Archangel Raphael in the past. Yes my friends, the Angel of Death is trying to seduce you." My words hit like a shock-and-awe air raid. Mouths dropped, eyes popped open, fingers hastily texted.

  "Furthermore, his healing is an illusion," I said. "Soon, those that he has claimed to heal will start dying miserable deaths. Inside a body, his venom percolates, slowly seeping into every cell, appearing to heal before it explodes into cancerous destruction." Faces registered horror, which was the response I wanted. "His claim to be a healer was just to sucker you in…a seduction trick. In reality, he wants to rule you. Why does he want this? Simple, because you are his food." Hushed silence fell across the crowd. I knew there was more to it than Samael just tending his livestock—his demented need to control and torture, for instance—but wanted to go for shock value.

  "The truth is we are not angels of God," I continued. "We are an ancient extraterrestrial race that came to your planet thousands of years ago." As the words came out, I realized how idiotic they would sound to skeptics, but continued anyway. "Our role in your society evolved into many forms over the years. Five-thousand years ago, we were your gods. A thousand years ago, we became your demons. Legends of us gave you vampires today." Many stared in silence, perhaps considering whether they should call the local insane asylum. "And we never left, but have been hiding amongst you. Some of us love humans, but others loathe you like you loathe cockroaches. I have always been your champion, fighting those like Samael who would enslave you. Throughout history, I have been dubbed many names: the Archangel Michael, the Roman god Mars, the Sumerian god Marduk. All fought for justice and once again, I want to help you." Stealing a page from Samael's playbook, I levitated high into the air and watched as the crowd took a step back in unison, their faces filled with fear.