Chapter 18
The shot is deafening, echoing throughout the chamber, piercing my ears. The pastor immediately is thrown back onto the cold stone, his body limp and lifeless. Everyone is in shock. I can’t understand what is happening. “Why?” I say in objection. “Why would you do that?”
“Because he was weak,” Hammond says, “Just like Barnaby before him. I had to take care of that problem, too.” He looks at me, discerning my confusion. He tisks, as if astonished by my ignorance. “Did you really think it a coincidence that I brought you to this town? That I spent all those years keeping you out of trouble?”
“I thought you cared about me,” I say, the pain of betrayal in my voice. “I trusted you.”
“Cared about you?” His tone is mocking. “You were just another brat, easily manipulated. But people like you always are. You push away the ones who truly love you because you’re afraid, and embrace those that hurt you because it’s safe.” Although I want to believe that what he says is a lie, his words strike a dark truth that stabs deep into my heart. He glares at me as if to discern my expression. “Does the truth hurt? Is it hard to realize just how pathetic you are?”
I do not answer.
“Your mother was easily manipulated as well. I was the one who convinced her to give you up. It was easier that way. For me, at least.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask angrily.
“I was once your mother’s handler,” he replies, pacing past me. “I watched over her, waiting for the time that I could use her for my purposes. But she began asking too many questions, so I convinced her that the danger of having you near her was too great. I posed as a social worker and we put you in the foster system on the understanding that I would look over you. She trusted me too, right up to the day that I killed her. Made it look like a drug overdose to avoid any further questions. After that, I continued to bide my time until this day when Sorath could be summoned.”
I jump forward toward him. “I’ll kill you,” I say.
Swinging the gun down, he strikes me against the cheek, sending me back to the ground, dazed. He then walks casually over to the others. Taking Liv by the hair, Hammond rips her away. Justine protests, but he points the gun at her as if daring her to do something. He then looks at me and I see in his face what I feared—the cold look of death.
As he presses the gun to Liv’s temple, I know it is not a bluff. He will kill and feel nothing of it. He already has. “I’m betting you chose to take Liv with you in your escape because she reminded you of that little girl so many years ago,” he says. His words are heartless and cruel. “How would you feel losing her all over again, when it is entirely in your power to save her?”
Seeing him hurt her angers me, but there is nothing I can do. Suddenly, I remember the feeling I had those many years ago when I saw my foster sister being beaten. The same feeling I harbored when I learned she was dead and that he had killed her. Despite the fact he went to prison, it was not enough for the pain he caused. He deserved more, an endless torment. He deserved hell. “Leave her alone,” I say through gritted teeth. All love is extinguished from my heart replaced only with anger. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you. I swear I will.”
“That’s more like it,” Hammond says. “If you would have had more of that attitude on the night you stabbed the old man, maybe you could have followed through with it and saved her. But you were weak weren’t you. That angel will tell you that it’s not your fault she’s dead, but that’s a lie. It was your fault. You had the power of salvation and you refused it. For what? You’re conscience. There’s no place for conscience in this world. Just cold, calculated—perfect justice. What the world needs is more of those that can deliver it, and that is what I will give them.”
“Is that what you want—justice?” I ask. Every syllable of my words infused with bitterness. It’s everything I can do not to leap at him because doing so might hurt Liv.
“I make no pretenses of what I want,” Hammond says smugly. “I want vengeance. Vengeance on the whole heavenly host.”
“But why?”
“Let’s just say we have history together. A long history.” Taking Liv by the hair, he throws her to the hard floor. She slowly rises up but he kicks her back down as he walks around, always keeping the gun trained on her. He glances up at the red moon hanging above us. “Rare occurrence, eclipses like these, four red moons in a year. They call it a tetrad. I’ve waited a long for this moment.”
The mention of a tetrad awakens awareness in me. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“The relevance is in the prophecies,” he replies. His walk is more casual now. It seems he is confident in his control of the situation. “There were prophecies given at the dawn of creation that an event would occur and would raise the very foundations of heaven. A star would fall from the heavens and its name would be wormwood.”
“You’re talking about Bible prophecies,” I say. My statement is more defiant then inquiring.
“Bible. Qur’an. Torah. You people think that you have all there is. That you are the only ones with the word of God. Well, there is so much more that you have no idea about. Prophecies that existed before your kind wormed their way across the planet. Prophecies at the very dawn of angels.” He squats down next to me, moving the end of the gun along my neck. “You see, we were here long before you. We were God’s original chosen.”
“You’re an angel?”
“Was,” Hammond says, abruptly. “I was an angel. I saw the beginning of man. I was there when Adam was cast down to the mortal realm. I knew him before he was even a man.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Before God formed Adam’s flesh and gave him the breath of life,” Hammond says, “he was one of the clay men.”
“I don’t understand,” I say.
“The clay men were the first generation of creation to roam the earth, but they were flawed. It was felt that they could pose a threat to heaven. They were to be wiped from the Earth, or so the council of angels decreed. One angel was called to do the work of clearing the Earth for the renewal, but that angel dissented. His name was Sorath. He decided to give the clay men purpose. They became his legions, and through them he gave birth to a new generation of creation—the demons. All of them worshipped Sorath and together built a new heavenly realm.”
“So if this Sorath character was so great, why haven’t I heard of him?”
“He was defeated.”
“By the angels.”
“By Adam and the betrayal of a particular angel. One clay man stood against the rest for the honor of God his creator. An act for which he was blessed to join the heavenly host in an Eden of his own in the fourth realm of heaven. He was even granted a companion. Still, it was not enough for him and—well—you know the rest of the story.”
Hammond stands and stares up at the sky. “As for Sorath, he was imprisoned in a comet and sent to circle the universe and all of God’s creations. An attempt to humble him perhaps. The generations of demons were scattered on the Earth and the clay men became but shadows. However, some were allowed to maintain their clay form in exchange for protecting this very temple.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“This temple was built on the location where it was prophesied that Sorath would be recalled to do his original work—to clear the face of the Earth in anticipation of the renewal. Of course, I have other plans for him.”
“I still don’t understand,” I say.
This angers Hammond. He stoops down and drills the barrel of the revolver into my neck. Though I am terrified, my anger refuses to let it show. “Don’t be coy with me. You know exactly what I mean. I was there when the charge was given to Eve. After the incident with Sorath, they had a change of heart. They still saw mortals as a threat, but seeing the valor Adam showed, felt it would be best to give the charge of calling forth the renewal to man. A righteous man or better yet, a righteous woman. One who had witn
essed the evils of the world firsthand and could be a greater judge in determining its outcome. And so I went to Eve and spoke the words to her that would bring about the renewal. She was given the charge that if man’s evils were such that they threatened heaven, she and her seed would have the power to stop them. A self-destruct so to speak.”
“Why would I help you, if you are just going to destroy us?”
“I’m not going to destroy you or any of man,” he says. “I don’t blame your kind for anything. You’re like animals. You know not what you do. No. I reserve my vengeance for the angels that imprisoned me here with the rats. With the help of Sorath, I will unite the scattered legions and take my revenge on heaven. If anything, we will be rescuing you from the meddling of the angels. We all know how they like to poke their nose in your business.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“As an act of good faith, we will destroy the clay men and free your friends in the church. I’ll even start with Justine.” Waving the gun at Justine, he gestures her to leave. “Go on. You’re free to go roam the Earth as you like.”
“What about Liv?” I demand.
“I’m feeling generous not stupid.”
“I’m not stupid either.”
“Then I guess we are at an impasse,” Hammond says. He shrugs his shoulders seemingly apathetic to the outcome. “However, the difference between your situation and mine is that unlike you, I have the ability to extend mercy…and take it away.” Raising the gun, he points it at Justine and cocks the hammer.
Just before he has time to pull the trigger, I yell out, “Okay. I’ll do whatever you want, but I don’t know the words.”
“Of course you do,” Hammond says. “All the daughters of Eve do. They just need the right motivation.” Hammond walks over to Liv still lying face down on the floor. He bends over and places the gun to her head. “I think I know just the motivation you need.”
“If you hurt her…”
“Tut—tut.” He grins. “Watch your temper. I might lose my patience and do something…” He pauses a moment running his hand over her hair. “I might do something…regrettable.”
I breathe out my contempt but keep my mouth shut for Liv’s sake. “Let’s just get it over with.”
“That’s the spirit,” Hammond says, leaping to his feet. He crosses the room and extends a hand to me. I take it and he helps me to my feet. “Oh, and if you think you will be rescued at the last possible minute by your boyfriend, don’t bother. He doesn’t know where you are. Remember, you pushed him away the way you push everyone away.”
Rather than angering me, the words fill me with a dark hopelessness. Hope is the one thing that allows us to maintain our own will. When it leaves us, our ability to act for ourselves is gone. Cautiously, standing at my side, he begins to whisper words in a language I cannot comprehend, but this does not seem to matter as they begin to have an effect on me as if inducing a trance. In my mind the words come alive.
The three mother letters: Aleph, Mem, Shin…
With no will left, I relinquish myself to the words, which seem to vibrate through me as if my whole body were speaking them. My mind is swept away to a vision and I see a woman prostrate over the battered body of a young man—her son. Hammond is there but different. He is draped in robes and wings extend from his back. He is an angel. His face is kinder in the vision, almost compassionate for the woman’s plight. She looks up at him with reddened eyes. I can see her pain and anguish. Hammond kneels before and whispers in her ear.
Aleph, Mem, Shin…a great mystical secret covered and sealed with six rings.
The vision then takes me forward in time as the aged Eve lays at her death bed. At Eve’s beckoning the daughter leans forward and Eve whispers to her the words. This is repeated from generation to generation.
Aleph, Mem, Shin…from the emanated air, water and fire.
The words grow louder in my head as they are repeated, and with each generation I feel the burden of the charge and the costs. What was lost and who fought to protect it. I see the cruelty of man that nearly brought its end. The brutality of war and the heartlessness of ignorance. Man’s use of God as means for their own callous crusades. I see hate spread from father to son and from mother to daughter. False divisions caused by arrogant pride and vicious greed, leaving a wake of poverty and the destruction of innocent lives. Ultimately, I see nothing worth saving and my heart looses hope for humanity that we will ever rise above our own savagery.
Aleph, Mem, Shin…from them are born Fathers, and from Fathers, descendents.
The chain seems endless and with each generation my anger grows more bitter, then I see my mother on the day she left me with Hammond. I see concern in her face and I feel her emotion as I did the others. I feel her love for me. She wants to protect me and keep me safe, but she can’t. I feel her anguish of having to leave me, her utter grief of extending such a burden upon someone so young. I am angry that she had to be put in such a position, just another innocent victim of a world absent of justice.
Aleph, Mem, Shin…He has set the universe in their heart, to blind man from His work.
The words repeat like drum beats that move and sway me. The vision continues with my mother kneeling at my side. I am still unaware of what is going to happen. She kisses me on the forehead, and then taking me by the hands, pulls me close and whispers the words in my ear, just as the others before her, only this time she whispers something else. Something just for me. “Hope is the ember that will keep love burning when pain threatens to extinguish it.”
I don’t know what she means. Then I see my foster sister begging for the life of her father. “Please be alright, Daddy,” she repeats over and over. She looks up at me. I expect to see pain in her face, but I don’t. I see pity. Why should she pity me? I become angry with her. Why should she love such a man? Why should she forgive him? He isn’t worth it. He will only hurt her again. He will never stop hurting her. He’s like all the rest of humanity that must be punished for their wrongs. Why hasn’t God done something? He is the one at fault. He has the power to end this and he does nothing. He lets them hurt us. He let her die.
Aleph, Mem, Shin…spoken brought creation, unspoken will bring the undoing…Shin, Mem, Aleph…Shin, Mem, Aleph…Shin, Mem, Aleph…
As the words pound their beat in my head they bring with them darkness, like a void has opened. The girl continues to look at me with pity. I want her to stop. I want it all to stop. I try to scream out, but I can’t. It’s as if my body is possessed by the words. Eventually, the girl looks away, as if is giving up. A deep well of sorrow pools in my gut as I watch her pull her father in close to her. With tenderness, she rocks back and forth while cradling his head. Why does she love him after all he’s done? I don’t understand. Then a voice from behind. “Yes you do,” it says. I turn to see my mother standing draped in a robe, a hood covering her amber hair. We are standing in the chamber room, but we are alone. “You felt what she felt once,” my mother says, gesturing to a part of the room. The scene emerges of the girl still holding her father’s head against her chest.
“I can’t feel for him what she does,” I say. “I can’t love like that.”
“You did once,” my mother says. “You felt it that day that I left.” In another part of the room I see another scene of myself as a young girl watching my mother leave. “There was a time when you could not hate.”
“That time is passed.” A darkness begins to enclose around me. And the words pound through me. Shin, Mem, Aleph… It seems that if they continue they will utterly destroy me. “It’s too late,” I say.”
“As long as hope exists in your heart it is never too late.”
“I can’t…”
“Yes you can,” my mother insists.
“You don’t understand,” I say. “I’ve lost my hope. Humanity is lost. There’s nothing worth saving.” The darkness deepens as the words increase their tempo. Shin, Mem, Aleph…Shin, Mem, Aleph… Along with words are the
whispers of shadows speaking things of misery that fill me with an endless hopelessness. I have forgotten love. I feel only despair and want nothing more than it all to end.
Shin, Mem, Aleph…with His mouth piece he shall strike the Earth and it will be left desolate.
My mother looks at me with a mixed expression of pity and compassion. “I know it’s hard to hope for anything more, it means you must open your heart and feel pain again. There was a time as a young mother that I wanted you to only have joy without any of the pain, but now I see it is better to have joy with an understanding of the pain.”
Angel Realms 01 The Dawn of Angels Page 21
