by David Gallie
It was when his fingers stopped moving that I realized he was waiting for me to pose more questions. The simple truth was, though, that my mind was absolutely numb with it all.
I had felt it bizarre enough that I had entered into what was basically an eternity of servitude to the dark lord himself, but now this mysterious monk who I had once rescued from the kitchen of the overlord Hermetia, was basically telling me that he and his fellow brethren were out to kill their master and his son.
Of course, it got far more bizarre, because from the gist of the previous conversation I got the very specific inclination that they wanted me to be the one that dealt with them both.
‘Answer me this. Is Lisa the mother of his child?’ In my heart, I really didn’t want to know, but my mind in all of its logical glory needed to know the fine details.
‘No.’ His answer was blunt and I could feel my heart lift just that little bit from the pit of my stomach. ‘The unfortunate soul chose as his mate never survives the birth.’
‘So, who looks after the little terror?’ I asked trying not to sound funny, but I couldn’t help but smile at the irony of what I had just said.
‘Lisa does.’ Again he was blunt and this time, I already anticipated his answer. It was the only other part of this grand saga that was my life that actually made some sense after everything that I had I learned in such a short space of time.
This was the point where all the questions finally came to a head. It was now after witnessing the blood splattered classroom my wife used to teach six kindergarten kids in, that I felt I deserved an answer to the question that had driven me this far.
‘Why is my wife in hell babysitting Satan’s son?’ Pertilius had known everything up to this point so I saw no reason why he couldn’t answer my question. I knew that he knew.
‘I am sorry Samuel…’ He said, slowly shaking his head from side to side. ‘…But only those privileged enough to be able to read the contracts our lord creates will be able to tell you that. All I can suggest is that you look deeper into Lisa’s past to find out why she made the deal with our lord.’
I should have felt rage, frustration or pure hatred for this hell spawn who had been spoon feeding information to me and teasing me along his own little intricate path, but instead, I just felt dejected.
Tiredness, both physical and mental, had well and truly set back in. I stared at the group photograph I had tossed to the other side of the room and decided it was the best place for it in the darkness of the room. I did not want to stare at those innocent, smiling faces any longer than I had to.
Pertilius was still hovering nearby and the coldness that always followed him was now starting to get to me. He must have sensed that I was getting pissed off with his presence as he said:
‘I must get back to the Monastery now. I trust what we have discussed will go no further?’ His voice had softened again, and this time, I could detect fear. He was worried I was going to mention our little talks to the dark one himself, but that would be possibly one of the dumbest things I could ever do except for when I actually made the damn deal.
‘Don’t worry. I want him gone as much as you do. I’m not going to be mentioning these little talks to him anytime soon.’
I didn’t bother to turn in his direction. I could feel the plume of smoke behind me as he vanished back to the realm where he belonged.
‘What a fucking mess.’ I said to myself as I got to my feet and walked over to where the picture lay on the floor. Once it was back in my hand I walked back to the bed and lay down again.
Knowing I wasn’t going to be able to sleep, I closed my eyes anyway and tried to let my mind process everything that was happening in my world. There was still more questions than answer there but certain parts were becoming clearer.
I had guessed Pertilius was looking for more than just an odd job man, just as I knew he wasn’t offering me information out of the kindness of his heart. He had a plan and that was to get rid of his current master and his heir and have those both replaced by another more competent individual.
His plan also involved me doing most of the dirty work, which strangely enough, I felt fine about as long as I had the right tools to do the job. These were things that he seemed to be happy to supply me with, but I still wasn’t going to fully invest myself in it all until I knew for certain that my wife was somewhere safe. Heaven hopefully.
My thoughts drifted to her loving smile and before I knew it I was slipping off into a deep sleep. The first in days.
The following morning I woke with a smile on my face. I had a mission in my head and that was simple; I wasn’t going to learn as much as I possibly could about Lisa’s past and that basically meant starting from the end and working my way back to the beginning. By the time I got dressed and made my way outside the snow was beginning to blanket the city yet again.
Winter was tightening its grip and for some strange reason, I took comfort in that. The fluffy white flakes had a great way of masking the impurities of the city and making it seem that little bit friendlier than it probably ever would be.
Lighting a cigarette I waited for my cab to arrive. I was heading to the archives at the library where I hoped to learn more about what happened at the kindergarten and its teacher. There was must something recorded about the incident. Even if it was the tiniest column in one of the block newspapers it could still yield something that I needed to know about my wife’s current predicament as Satan’s heir in waiting, babysitter.
I could feel my guts twist a little with the anticipation and fear that came from stepping into the unknown, and yet that felt like a comfort. It reminded me that I was still human. I was still a living, breathing man with something worth living for.
It took around ten minutes after I finished my cigarette before the taxi cab arrived. The journey to the archives had been relatively quick and the cab pulled up outside the depressing granite building about twenty minutes later. The driver assured me it would have been quicker if not for the poor weather conditions.
I slipped him a hundred dollar bill and climbed out into the fresh air with a slight smile on my face. I was certain that I was going to find something that would help me find answers and that was all I needed to feel right now.
‘Hi there. How can I help you, sir?’ Asked the young, bookish looking woman who sat behind the reception desk.
‘I’d like to look at the newspaper archives from the beginning of 2009.’ I wasn’t sure if it was even possible for anyone to walk off the street and ask to view such information, but the girl seemed happy to oblige me.
‘That’s a lot of microfilm sir. I can bring you Januarys first, or if you have a specific paper you want to concentrate on I can bring the entire collection for that year.’ She smiled and I could see there was a naive innocence in her eyes that told me she hadn’t truly experienced any of the horrors this world could throw at her.
‘I have no idea what papers carried the story, so I guess I’ll have to start with all of them for each month.’ I said, trying my best to offer her my kindest smile which I imagined was like a crocodile smiling at his dinner before he ate it.
‘What was the story?’ She asked suddenly perking up, and I was almost tempted to tell her to mind her own business, but if there was a possibility she could help me cut to the chase then it might be worthwhile trying her.
‘Six children were murdered at a local kindergarten.’ I said, expecting nothing.
Instead, the young woman surprised me. She looked thoughtful for a few seconds before looking up at me with the saddest eyes I had ever seen.
‘I remember that story. Their teacher hacked them all to the death with a knife. It was truly horrible. I had only just started working here. I think it was the kindergarten at St Helens.’
One part of me felt horrified that this young woman knew almost as much as I did but the other part of me felt elated that I was justified in following my intuition and coming to the archives in the first place.
‘That’s the one. I’m doing some research on the story for a book I’m writing.’ I said, trying not to make it sound any more personal than it really was.
‘I had to research it as part of my phycology course at university. It was a nasty case. I learned that the kindergarten teacher had a history of violent mental breakdowns. Psychotic breaks I think they're called. She had been committed to Muirmill Asylum five times before she somehow landed the job at the kindergarten.’
I watched as she came up for air, both eyebrows raised in surprise, at this neatly packaged fountain of information.
‘Well, it looks like I might need to think of another case to research if others have already been studying it as you obviously have done. Although I might do some investigating at the asylum you just mentioned. Maybe to see if there is anything else that can be found out.’ I was basically feeding her a line in the hope that she would turn over more of the details she already knew.
Anything that gave me a start into my wife’s past was only a good thing as far as I was concerned.
‘Ah, sadly I don’t think you will find much there sir. There was a really bad fire around five years ago which killed most of the patients and the staff. Plus it didn’t leave much of the building.’
I could see the sadness in her eyes as she reported the news to me, and I too should have felt down that there would be no one to talk to there. But as I said my goodbyes and made my way back out into the newly born blizzard, I suddenly felt like I had something to aim for.
The young and obviously very diligent receptionist at the archives had tried her best to get to the bottom of Lisa’s past and hit a dead end. But dead things were quickly becoming my speciality and I felt certain that where she failed I would prevail.
The next chapter in my life and one of the last in Lisa’s was waiting for me at Muirmill Asylum. I hailed a cab and tried to mentally prepare myself for what was coming next.
PART 4:
MUIRMILL ASYLUM
Through the night, the snow had given way to rain. When I woke up that morning and looked out of my bedroom window I could see all the streets were covered in grey slush, which seemed to add an extra element to the oppressive feel the city already had for me.
Turning my attention away from the world outside I padded across the room to the small bathroom where I knew I would find the small pile of clothes I had been wearing for the last day or so. My desire to keep myself presentable had slowly been slipping away as the deep feeling of depression ate away at me.
That morning, though, the normal black cloud I felt hanging over my head, did not feel quite as heavy as it usually did. My visit to the city archives had given me a new lead to follow as I tried to trace how my wife, a kindergarten teacher, had ended up in league with the devil.
Slipping on my crumpled jeans, which still had a couple of blood splatters on them, I gave myself a quick going over in the mirror. I had never been one for vanity, but under the bright light in the small bathroom, I could see more lines under my eyes. The ancient symbols sprawled across my forehead, a permanent reminder of the favour I had done for the monk Pertilius, scarred an otherwise unremarkable face.
I knew I was not the most handsome man on the planet, but I wasn’t the ugliest either. My average looks had been a great asset during my career as a hitman. They made it easy for me to blend into crowds and I was equally easy to forget when the cops started asking questions.
As I pulled on the grey t-shirt I had left on the floor, my mind began to process what I needed to get done. Satan, my new boss, and master, had not called on me to carry out another one of his odd jobs, so, for now, I had the day free to try and find out about Lisa’s past.
Deep inside my heart there was a part of me that felt certain it was best to leave it all well alone, but the other part of me, probably the part that had loved her for five years needed to know the whole truth.
Heading back out into the bedroom I sat on the edge of the bed and began to pull my boots on. Occasionally I would glance up at the photograph leaning against my alarm clock as if it was demanding my attention. The picture of Lisa and the seven smiling kids, one of which was Satan’s own spawn, was a solid reminder that I wasn’t chasing after shadows.
Lisa really had been a kindergarten teacher. That part of her seemed to be solid, it was just the rest of it that needed filling in. The young woman at the archives had seemed certain that my wife had formerly been a guest at Muirmill Asylum, which was located about an hour away from my apartment.
In my rush to find out what happened to the children in Lisa’s class, or to be blunt, what she had done to those poor kids, it had never crossed my mind that she would have had such a dark past. I most certainly would never have thought of her as a mental patient of any description.
I tried to recall all the times I had spent with her, looking for any signs that may not have been so obvious then, but in hindsight would show me that there was something unhinged about her.
In my memories, there were no signs of erratic behaviour. Lisa was the most gentle and loving woman I had ever met and she certainly showed no signs that hidden deep within her was a brutal, murdering psychopath.
It did not add up and as I tied my laces, I could feel my resolve become stronger. I was going to find out who my wife really was, regardless of Satan’s warnings not to go poking around in her past. I simply couldn’t accept that such a wonderful woman deserved to languish in hell, and even if it would mean bringing on my own damnation quicker than I wanted, I was prepared to see it through to the end.
Once I was back on my feet again, I headed towards the living room. I rarely stayed in any one place for any longer than six months, so most of the apartments I had taken residency of only had the basics as far as furnishings were concerned.
This apartment had been no different with just a small sofa, a cheap wooden coffee table and a matching TV unit taking up space in the living room.
I was certain that I had tossed my keys onto the scratched surface of the coffee table the previous night, but the table held nothing except a couple of cup coasters. Frowning I turned to the kitchen counter which acted like a separating partition between the two rooms.
Almost instantly I spotted the bunched keys but as I picked them up and the cold metal touched my skin, a violent shiver shot down my body starting from the top of my head and zooming straight down to my feet.
It was the kind of sensation that normally preceded a visit from the dark lord himself. I stood on the spot, glancing between the kitchen and the living room, watching and waiting for the cloud of black smoke which would signal his arrival.
I could feel the creases on my forehead grow deeper as I stood there and waited. Nothing. No Satan. No monk from hell. Just nothing accept me and myself.
The cold shiver that wracked my body was always a clear warning that I was about to have the company of the hellish kind and yet I was still alone. Was it a trick? Would I go to move for the leather jacket which hung limply over the sofa and suddenly be surprised by the eternal trickster?
I decided to grab my jacket anyway, and as I slid my arms into the sleeves I half expected to turn around and be looking into his freezing cold blue eyes. But no, not this time. My early warning system had failed me and for some strange reason that made me feel uncomfortable.
Zipping up the tattered brown leather jacket, I still had it in my head that I was about to get a surprise visit. Even as I made my way towards the apartment door I was certain I would hear his voice sound behind me just as I reached for the door handle.
Feeling very unnerved, I unlocked the door to my apartment and stepped out into the hallway. I glanced back inside my empty apartment for a few seconds before pulling the door closed and locking it with the key.
As I made my way towards the elevator, I was beginning to feel that something was wrong. There may not have been a visible presence in my tiny apartment, but I felt certain that something had paid me a visit.
&n
bsp; As I waited for the carriage to arrive on my floor I studied the ancient symbols tattooed around my wrists and I had to fight the temptation to trace the symbol of infinity which would render me invisible to any minion from hell.
Now is not the time for that Sam. I thought and pulled my jacket sleeves back over the symbols. But despite what I thought, I did have a feeling that I was going to have to use that ability to be invisible at some point in the day.
Cars of all makes and models zoomed past as I stood at the roadside waiting for a cab. The rain was coming down in sheets by the time I had made my way outside, and despite being soaked, I actually felt good. The feeling of the cold droplets splashing against my face reminded me that I was still human, and still very much alive.
I stood there being drenched by the heavens for around ten minutes before the old yellow cab pulled up next to where I was standing.
As I quickly slipped into the back seat, closing the door behind me as I went, I noticed the driver was a tired looking old man, his skin the colour of dark chocolate.
‘Where you headed to my friend?’ Asked the driver, his voice deep and cracked from years of smoking.
‘Muirmill Asylum.’ I said, glancing out the window. A young couple, shared an umbrella as they made their way past my cab and headed further down the street, but it seemed that the rain had forced everyone else off the streets.
‘You do know that place has been closed for quite some time now, don’t you?’ I could see the driver staring back at me from the rearview mirror, his eye’s showing familiar tendrils of red which told me he did not sleep much.
He put the old taxi into gear and with a sudden lurch we were joining the rest of the city traffic. I guessed it didn’t matter to him if I wanted to change my mind based on his question, he was getting money from me one way or another.
