The Prophet Box-Set: Books 1-4

by David Beers

“Yes,” the High Priest had said, doing his best to not show the disgust he felt inside.

  “You have her, I see? Nicki Sesam?”

  The High Priest nodded.

  “Have you extracted her brain?”

  The High Priest shook his head. “No, not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “I … I’ve been moving,” the High Priest said, feeling idiotic as the words passed from his lips. He hadn’t expected any of this—Corinth showing up, his bloody, drooping face, nor all these questions. Corinth had given him permission to do as he wanted, and what he wanted was to extract Nicki’s brain at his own pace, and then keep it in a jar next to him for the rest of his life.

  “I didn’t want to bring this up, my High Priest, as I feel it might be a bit … uncouth. Have you noticed my face?”

  The High Priest nodded slowly.

  “Yes, yes. I thought you might have, but if you hadn’t, I didn’t want to embarrass myself. I’m sure you can understand. Well, it appears to be melting right off my head. Would that be your assessment?”

  Another nod.

  “Yes, I was afraid that would be the case as well. Tell me this, my High, what do you know about this girl? What is she capable of?”

  “I … I …,” the High Priest found himself stammering as Corinth’s chin stretched far enough to actually rest on his shoulder. It was no longer swaying. The High blinked, trying to gain some measure of control. “I believe she was created to mimic what the weapon could do, at least in being able to contact the Unformed. The ….” He dropped his eyes for a second, simply unable to continue watching the bloody flesh dripping like melting plastic. “The Catholic Church was never able to make it work, though.”

  “All true. Those Catholics have always been incapable of moving forward on their own, only doing so when wrenched by society. They’re lucky we let them live at all. However, they did create this brain, and I know you want it, my High Priest. In fact, it’s yours.” Corinth gestured with his right hand down to the floor. The High Priest’s eyes followed, and he saw Veritros’s head sitting next to his foot—perfectly preserved. “I’m not going to take that brain away from you now, but I was wanting to ask if perhaps we might be able to change course just a bit?”

  The little boy looked up, not wanting to see the grotesque face in front of him, but etiquette toward Corinth too tightly woven in him to disobey. “I am your servant. I will do whatever you ask.”

  “Well, this face of mine—” Corinth reached up and slapped his dripping cheek. A loud whap echoed into the room, the sound of a ruler slapping dough. Blood splattered off it, hitting the floor an arm’s length away. “I think it’s happening because of the Unformed. I think It might be trying to kill me, my High Priest.”

  “That’s impossible. You are eternal.”

  “Ha!” Corinth shouted, and for the first time the High Priest thought He might be insane. “I thought so, too, but here I am with this ball sack hanging off my face. I think we might need to use this girl for a bit. I think we might want to see if … well, to see if we can’t contact this Unformed.”

  “And do what, my Lord?”

  “Kill it, of course. Kill it, and then you can scoop her brain out of her skull and sleep next to it every night. Let’s just … use her for a little while.”

  The High Priest looked down again, trying to think for a few moments. “Is it possible?”

  “Anything you say can be possible. If you tell the True Faith to figure it out, they’ll do so. Those Catholics, they’re luddites. Just because they couldn’t figure out how to make it work, that doesn’t mean we can’t.”

  The High Priest knew that was correct.

  “Do you think you could do that for me?”

  “Yes, my Lord. I will do anything you ask of me. I hope you know that.”

  “You’ve always been the best servant,” Corinth said. Blood pattered onto the floor beneath him. “Can we begin soon?”

  The High Priest hadn’t known if he woke up or had ever been asleep, but eventually he realized he was sitting on the floor by himself. His father’s body wasn’t in front of him, and Corinth’s head (as well as Veritros’s) was gone. The High Priest was an old man once again.

  He had sat like that for a few hours, very little in the way of thoughts moving through his mind. There’d been no great planning nor strategizing occurring. It was as if the High Priest had simply switched off. Finally, though, he did stand and began Corinth’s bidding.

  In his insanity, he didn’t even think to question the change in Corinth’s directives; the reasoning was quite clear, the High Priest’s desires could wait until Corinth’s face stopped melting.

  So he started to build something that would allow Nicki Sesam to connect with the Unformed.

  Build something that would allow the High Priest, a madman by any measure, to connect with the Unformed.

  Daniel Sesam didn’t have a name for what he saw when he went to his daughter. Nicki didn’t either. Very few people actually would have known to call it the Beyond, nor known that Nicki Sesam sat on the edge of the universe.

  Nicki certainly didn’t understand any of that. She didn’t even understand how she had ended up here for the second time, but she found herself not caring about that. She understood there was a reality somewhere—a place her body inhabited, but she had no desire to return to it. She understood something was being done to her body, and while an innate part of her demanded she do something to stop them, another part said … It’s okay. Let them kill you, if that’s their goal. It’s better than the alternative.

  Nicki had stood, unable to move for a day, watching as people came and went around her. She saw what they were constructing, but she didn’t know what it was for. They were building a box of some sort around her—though that wasn’t quite right. It was a skeleton of a box, only the outer edges and corners. They weren’t planning on completely enclosing her. She hung in the middle of it, not understanding how that was even possible.

  They worked day and night, though most of the time only one or two people were there at a time. To Nicki, they were nameless, faceless people.

  At first, terror gripped her—especially when the bald man came to her in the beginning, but terror can only hold its grip for so long. Eventually, even fear turns to boredom, and that’s what Nicki felt as she watched these nameless people work in silence. She would have tried speaking to them if she could, but neither her body nor mouth worked.

  Instead, she thought about everything she’d seen. It filled her mind for hours and hours, but unable to sleep, eventually even that grew dull. Another realization came to Nicki: if this continued, she would lose her mind. Turn completely insane. Perhaps not soon—not in the next day or so—but without some respite from her current conditions, her mind would eventually slip away from her.

  So, when the voice spoke to her again, she grabbed onto it like a drowning woman does a life raft.

  Come, it said.

  Where? Where do I go? Nicki’s mind blurted out. It didn’t waste time asking who or what might be speaking to her, it simply leapt.

  Come, it said again.

  Nicki’s eyes didn’t close, but rather her consciousness left the reality surrounding her.

  And when consciousness returned, it was sitting on the universe’s edge.

  Days passed without Nicki knowing it. The construction around her body continued. People came and went from the room holding her. She was blissfully unaware.

  For a long time, she only watched the white streaks and orange explosions. Eventually, though, her consciousness saw something else—and when she saw it, Nicki didn’t understand how it had crept up on her. An off-white colored … planet sat just beyond the explosions. It appeared a bit hazy, as if smoke rose in front of it, distorting any detail.

  Nicki had a distinct feeling that it was looking at her, this planet, even if that made absolutely no sense. She also thought that it wanted her to know.

  Things seemed to slip
away from Nicki in this place. The problems back in reality, and even the voice that called her here. It all felt like it might not actually exist.

  There, the voice said. You see it now, don’t you?

  Nicki said nothing. She didn’t want to hear the voice anymore. She was content sitting in the darkness, and even though the voice had led here, it was disturbing her peace now.

  There is no more peace for you. Not here nor on Earth.

  A beat passed, and then the voice raged across the empty blackness. A storm unseen, but heard and felt by the very particles that created the universe. The voice said it would not be denied, that it would not be pushed away. The voice said that all who heard it would bow.

  LOOK AT WHAT’S BEFORE YOU.

  It sounded as if perhaps God Himself had spoken.

  Shock ripped through Nicki, pulling her out of whatever trance she’d been in while occupying this place. Perhaps pulling her out of whatever trance she’d been in since all this began—clear back to the motel when she wandered aimlessly in worlds she didn’t understand.

  Her consciousness rushed forward, and she realized where she sat. In some dark incomprehensible place, watching impossible explosions and staring at something as large as a planet, yet somehow possessing alien intelligence.

  Panic threatened to overtake Nicki, but the voice spoke again. The fear trying to control Nicki’s brain was washed away like dust in a hurricane as the voice made itself known.

  DO YOU SEE IT?

  Yes, Nicki said immediately, willing to do anything to stop the voice from its thunderous roar. I see it. I see it.

  It sees you too, the voice said, the rage no longer present. It’s watching you right now.

  Nicki didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to speak to this voice nor know anything else about this place. She only wanted to leave, the experience’s reality finally settling on her and quickly turning to horror.

  It’s beginning to understand, the voice said. Soon, It will know everything.

  Another pause, Nicki unsure if she was expected to respond.

  Nothing is over. You’re here so you can see It. When you return, you may not believe that such a thing exists, but you’ve seen It now. You can’t deny. It may not have touched you as It has others, but It is there, right in front of you. Watching. Waiting.

  No, Nicki said, unable to keep the word from rising. She understood, though she desperately didn’t want to. No, that’s not true.

  Yes, the voice said. It is. That is It.

  No, no, no. Nicki felt revulsion at the thing she now stared at, knowing It had a name.

  The Unformed, the voice said.

  Why? I’m not the Black. I don’t want to be a part of the Black. I love God. I love the Catholic Church. I don’t want any of this—

  Stop, the voice said and Nicki’s rambling ceased. You’ve seen It, and you understand It exists. Somewhere, just beyond your universe, It’s there. You have to go back now, but do not forget that It is real.

  Nicki stared at the hazy thing just beyond the universe’s grasp. Her consciousness—her very soul—rejected it, understanding that something so vile shouldn’t exist, but yet it did. And right in front of her.

  Go now, the voice said. There is time yet.

  Nicki’s vision slowly changed, the darkness of the universe exchanging for the brightness of the room surrounding her body.

  The box’s skeleton glowed, casting a tinge over everything, making the two people working in front of her appear alien-like.

  She knew immediately that she was still immobile, her mouth and vocal chords frozen too. She couldn’t even move her eyes, though she could see around the room for the most part. The windows showed darkness outside the floating home.

  Neither of the workers looked up at her, not having sensed her return to consciousness.

  Nicki was glad for it. She didn’t want to be noticed by either of them. The image of that huge orb hung in her mind—though it was fading. The immediacy of Nicki’s predicament was pulling her from whatever she’d just seen, because these people were definitely building something for her.

  For you? she wondered. That’s not exactly right. It’s going to use you.

  Tubes ran into Nicki’s arms but she felt no pain from them. They appeared clear, but she didn’t know if they contained liquids.

  I don’t know a damned thing about any of this.

  Her father.

  Relief washed over her, and if anyone had been looking at her, they might have even seen it. The first happy thought to run through her mind in ages.

  He’d been here, with her, for a bit at least. He could somehow see what she saw and hear what she heard. He would know where she was, and if it was at all possible, he’d be coming for her.

  You don’t know that, she thought. Did you feel him when you were staring at that exploding border? Do you feel him now? Truthfully, Nicki, when was the last time you felt him?

  She didn’t know.

  Nicki felt liquid run over her eyes, the oddity clearing her thoughts at once. She wasn’t crying and didn’t understand what was happening.

  You can’t blink, she thought. That’s fluid to keep your eyes from drying out.

  Goosebumps raised across her arms, the only part of her capable of movement.

  Focus. When was the last time you felt him?

  Her father had been with her in the transport—she was sure of that. Nicki hadn’t spoken to him, still frozen in fear, but … yes, he’d been there.

  And after?

  She didn’t know. It was all lost in a fog that filled her mind. The dark man had been flying in the sky, her kidnapper chasing him. Bright orange lights. And then she remembered the old man’s face. Puffy and bald, an old, wrinkled, marshmallow.

  A bit of the metal box, the one she still hung in.

  Then the voice.

  Come, it had said, and Nicki spent untold days staring as if under hypnosis.

  I don’t remember, she thought. I don’t know the last time he was with me.

  So, you don’t know if he’s coming. You don’t know if he’ll be back. You don’t know anything.

  Nicki couldn’t close her eyes to block out the world around her, so instead of trying to silence her mind’s thoughts, she simply tried to focus on what she could see.

  The box now had metal poles forming ‘Xs’ across each side, including the bottom. The two people in front of her were each working on a separate corner, using tiny tools on what appeared to be small boxes. She couldn’t see much else. In front of her, beyond the metal box, was a hardwood floor that led to a door about 20 feet down the hall. Other hallways meandered off to the left and right, though they gave no indication to where they might go.

  This is where you are. This is all you know. What’s right here. Everything else—from that white planet to your father—are things that you have no real knowledge of. If you’re going to survive, you have to focus here, on what you can see.

  Survive.

  It was a word she hadn’t felt—nor thought—in a long time. Not since the realization of that gray light became clear to her. She’d wanted death up until … this moment.

  Yet, staring at these metal bars and the two people working with their heads down, she didn’t feel like the apocalypse. She felt …

  Stolen.

  They took you and they put you in here. They took you from your father and your life and now you’re hanging in the air unable to move an inch.

  Survive.

  She didn’t know who the dark man actually was—whether the Black’s weapon, or something else—but those bright, orange lights had hit him and then she watched as he fell. Nicki hadn’t felt anything then and she didn’t now. Gray light or not, she’d never felt anything even resembling safety from that dark man.

  I’m not him, she thought. I’m not like him at all. I don’t care what that kidnapper said. I don’t care about the sight and I don’t care about the fucking gray light. I’m not like him.

&nb
sp; Survival, then. That’s what mattered right now, and if she could do that, maybe she could figure out all the rest of this later.

  The voice from the darkness had ripped Nicki out of her trance—one that she was just now realizing had stretched for maybe as long as a week. And now, unable to move or speak, Nicki was finally starting to feel like herself. She would have laughed if she could, chuckled at the absurdity of it all. Kidnapped and held captive, she was starting to feel normal again.

  There’s nothing normal here.

  Maybe not, but she was at least thinking somewhat clearly now. She didn’t even know the person that had wandered the Earth the past several days—not since first collapsing in the restaurant, believing flames were consuming her. That hadn’t been the girl who simply decided she wouldn’t remain in the Old World any longer when her mother died. That wasn’t the girl who worked 12 hour days, 7 days a week, to help her father start their business.

  Whoever had taken possession of her over the past few days, it was a strange, weak person. And Nicki, now stolen, wanted nothing to do with that other person.

  The Black, the gray light, the dark man, this place—it could all go to hell.

  And then, as if hell was listening, the door at the end of the hallway opened. The two people in front of Nicki looked up, but only for a second. They picked up their tools and each walked forward down the hall, both breaking to the left at the first exit they saw.

  The man standing in the doorway didn’t so much as glance at them.

  His eyes saw only Nicki.

  And hers now only him.

  He came to her, his black robes billowing slightly behind him as he walked. As he grew closer, his doughy face became clearer—and she had remembered correctly—it was hairless.

  He stepped inside the box, coming forward until their faces were nearly touching. She hung slightly above him, her eyes forced to stare straight ahead, but she could still see him looking up at her.

  “You’re back, aren’t you?” he asked. “I can tell. I can see it in your pupils. They’re focusing now and they weren’t before.”

  The pudgy man stepped back a few feet to one of the box’s corners. He reached around the opposite side and then Nicki felt herself dropping closer to the ground. The tubes connected to her arms moved with her, though they weren’t moving her. She didn’t know what held her in the air, but she didn’t have much time to consider it as he approached again.