The Leviathan Trial

by Oliver Madison

  Balancing the universe through her words.

  Harmony.

  Kitty laughed and tugged Levi by the arm as they turned left and exited the hedge maze. They made a stop by the fountain and she held him tight so he would stay close to her while they walked. “Didn’t know you were such a fan of my mom,” she teased. “If you promise to keep me around, and not come on to her, maybe I’ll introduce you two!” The fanboy in him was genuinely interested in the offer. For now though, he just chuckled as they wrapped up their stroll.

  As they passed an oak tree, Kitty nearly jumped at the sight of an overgrown rat that was sprawled out in the grass. It did not move. Its limp tongue hung over the sharp teeth of its gaping mouth. Everything classy about the Lancaster estate diminished when she saw the dead creature. On a second glance, it was too big to be a rat. She poked its coarse furry body with a stick, flipping it over to the other side. “It’s an opossum,” explained Levi. “There’s a family of them that live in that tree. They play dead as a defense mechanism. Helena tried bringing one into the house once when she thought it was sick and had fainted, only to have it tear up the kitchen twenty minutes later.” Kitty was not convinced. The creature even smelled rancid. Yet, sure enough, as they made it back to the house, Kitty looked behind her, only to see that the once dead opossum was long gone.

  Outside the backyard door, there stood a few men with heavy-duty tools and equipment. The family butler monitored them as they used electric drills and buzzed in a few screws. It was rather odd that they were working so late in the evening, but Levi did not question it. He had seen several handy men during the past month, repairing and replacing many of the doors and windows. He wondered if it was just that time to take care of standard home maintenance for their massive mansion. “We’re doing some upkeep on the back doors,” explained Bartleby. “You won’t be able to use these for the rest of the evening. Only the main entrance. I suggest you come back inside unless you want to be left out in the cold.” He took another disapproving look at Kitty. “Master Lancaster stated many times that no guests are permitted in the estate without his direct permission.”

  “Sorry, Bartleby,” Levi apologized. “It was short notice, but father actually gave his approval earlier today. She was leaving soon anyway.”

  Bartleby looked at his watch and squinted. “She has ten minutes,” he stated. It was not up for debate. His word was nearly as much law as Father Benedict’s in his absence. At any rate, Kitty was more than satisfied from her experience. Most of the family took a liking to her. Even she did not want to overstay her welcome.

  After heading back inside, Kitty made her rounds for hugs and said her goodbyes. Despite being instructed against taking pictures, Kitty managed to snap a few of the grand dining hall and the wooden Leviathan mask when Levi was not looking. She shivered as she took another look at the floating monstrous head. She had no intention of posting the pictures on social media. That would be a fast way to burn a bridge with the family. The pictures were just something of fascination for her—trophies. She intended on showing them to just a few friends for the sake of clout. Before Levi could kiss Kitty goodbye, his youngest sister tugged at his sleeve and pulled him away. Helena handed him a book that she wanted him to read, expressing her boredom through her yearning eyes.

  CHAPTER 3

  JUDGE, JURY, AND EXECUTIONER

  It was 8:35pm when the tragedy took place.

  Bartleby gathered all twelve of the Lancaster children and brought them into the study. He waited for the chattering and side conversations to quell. It was obvious that something of great importance had occurred. As unorthodox as the Lancasters were, all of them being summoned like this on a Friday night was highly irregular. Helena had her little palms pressed against the window as she stared outside, finding more interest in the gloomy weather and the swollen ashy clouds that were starting to form. Levi pulled her back with the group and listened to what their butler had to say.

  “I am honored and burdened to stand before you tonight with ill news,” announced Bartleby. He stooped his head forward, pinching the rim of his nose between his eyes as he choked up. “Your father,” he gagged. “My boss, idol, and friend of thirty-seven glorious years, Benedict Lancaster, has passed on!”

  At that, all the energy had been sucked from the room.

  It hit Levi like an upper cut to his gut.

  He could not bring himself to believe it.

  Father Benedict was his life. He was all of their lives. He was their purpose for being. Everything they did was solely for him.

  When it was clear that this was no joke, Hiroshi spoke first. He may have been colossal, but he sobbed like the gentle giant he was. His wide face flushed beet red as he pounded the coffee table. His massive fist cracked the corner on impact, startling the other children. “Tell me it’s not true!” he bawled angrily.

  Most of the girls cried—except for Mauve, who crossed her arms, looking off to the ground. Pearl was hit the hardest. The shock was too much for her and she broke down. “Not father!” she shrieked, shaking her head. “Take me, but not father!” Cynthia tried soothing her, rubbing her back and crying along with her. Pearl could not stand the thought of the others seeing her this way. She left to the restroom to process the information.

  They all festered in their depression until Blake seemed to come to acceptance first and broke the ice. He looked completely unfazed. “He will be missed.” Blake acknowledged that he was most likely the last to see their father alive since he wheeled him to his master bedroom for a nap earlier in the afternoon that he never woke up from. “What does this mean for the rest of us?” he asked. He wasted little time investigating how this would impact him directly.

  “Don’t be selfish,” Hiroshi roared. “Your father just died! He took each of us out from hell and gave us everything! Can’t you show him some respect!”

  Bartleby calmed the group, understanding that each of them would have to cope with their loss in their own way. Unfortunately, the point that Blake was getting at was a very legitimate concern. This would impact them all, much sooner than any of them would have guessed. Bartleby waved his arms down to quell the arguing amongst the Lancaster siblings. When Pearl returned from the restroom, wiping her eyes, he informed them of what was to come next. “You will all need to follow me to his office immediately.” It was the room where they held their evaluations. Many were still unable to process the loss as they followed Bartleby down the long halls of their home. Cynthia flinched as a web of lightning flashed through the skylight windows above them. It was followed by an explosion of thunder and the escalating drum of rain beating against the glass.

  This was a first for them. Never have they all been in father’s office at the same time. It brought back memories of his praise and criticisms for their accomplishments and shortcomings. They all had questions about where Father Benedict was now. Was his body still in his master bedroom? If so, what was to become of him? Would he be collected immediately by the mortuary, or would they leave him be until the morning when the storm would hopefully subside?

  Bartleby stopped answering and assured the children that all their questions would be addressed in a video left behind by their father. With a flip of a switch, a projector screen slowly unraveled and stretched along the wall. “Is it a last will and testament?” asked Allister. He seemed a little too superficially driven. Bartleby shushed him and hit the enter key on their father’s laptop. It started a video that played through the projector as it casted on the screen before them.

  All of them were hooked and fell silent.

  “Hello, my children. If you are watching this, then I am sorry to inform you that I have now passed on.”

  Seeing their father fully suited and confidently speak to them eloquently gave them a blend of bliss and despair. Never again would they see him this way. They latched onto his every word.

  “Watching you grow into the fine young men and women you have become has been the highlight of my
existence. You are all my treasures, and I could not be prouder of what you have accomplished.”

  As Benedict teared up, even the stronger children began to cry as well. Levi comforted Helena, rubbing her back as she sniffled silently. The room was somber. It was indeed their darkest day.

  “I call on all of you here today,” continued Benedict, “to inform you that there are more important matters than the death of this old man you see before you. Your future far outweighs my passing. The Lancaster family has always valued strength, sacrifice, and perseverance over all else. We fight for our future. We fight for our lives. That is our way.

  We live by a code that has been passed down from generation to generation. As you know, it is called the Order of the Leviathan. It is the set of principles by which I have dictated my life. They are values that were instilled in me by my family. They are the values I have instilled in you as well. It is why we wear its symbol around our necks.”

  Levi took a moment to kiss his family heirloom, thinking of his father and all he had done for him.

  “There is a tradition in the Lancaster family that ranks as the most essential for our trials and tribulations. It is one that I have kept secret from you until now.” Benedict paused and nodded before letting out this next part. “It is about natural selection—how in nature only the strongest lifeforms are worthy of survival…” Everyone was infatuated with every word their father spoke. They waited earnestly for him to tell them what to do next—how to move on from here. Benedict had always been a man of few words. They were powerful and meaningful words—but always brief.

  “You have all been put on a level playing field,” continued Benedict gesturing out his hand to the camera. “For years, you have been indulging in the vast wealth of the Lancaster name. Each of you was taken in from the poorest parts around the world, only to be trained on an unrivaled level. Not only have you undergone training in fitness, martial arts, and other physical activities, but you have honed your skills on a mental plane as well. Each of you is a prodigy in some individualized field of expertise. Each of you are special. However, there can only be one. Only one of you can inherit my fortune. I assure you; this is not a joke. You may think me cruel, just as I did of my father. However, later in life you will understand. You, the one winner, will see the importance in this trial as he or she advances into their golden years. At that time, you may set the stage for your descendants and carry on the tradition of the Leviathan. Since I was twelve, I have earned the title of the Leviathan. Now, I pass it on to one of you, who should ever prove themselves worthy of my legacy. One of you will follow in my footsteps, just as I had killed my adopted family over seventy years ago.”

  Everyone gasped.

  Voices started talking over each other. “What did he say?!”

  “Kill!?”

  “Is he crazy?!”

  Everyone was shushed by the older siblings as they let the video keep playing.

  “Rest assured,” smiled Benedict’s recording. “By the end of this trial, you will have blood on your hands.” There was genuine innocence and playfulness in his grin. It was a simple reality that he accepted with no strain on his conscience.

  “This is insane! Some messed up joke!” spat Sion.

  Bartleby slapped the table furiously and shushed everyone one final time, before turning up the volume.

  “Let me explain the rules,” rasped the deceased Benedict.

  “Do not bother trying to escape from any of the doors, windows, or exits of Lancaster Manor. Everything has been locked and secured as tight as a tomb. You will exhaust your time, effort, and energy failing to leave the manor before you are the last one alive.”

  They started flicking their heads to one another, just to make sure they were all dumbfounded and watching the same thing.

  “There is a slow acting chlorine poison that will be released from the vents after thirty-six hours have passed. The cloud will make its way like a plague of death, creeping from one side of the manor to the other until every crevice of our home is filled. Luckily, we have a big home. I’d give it a few hours before every inhabitant, or housefly for that matter, is excruciatingly deceased.

  You may use any weapon, skill, or means at your disposal. Anything will go. Have faith in our home. It is a battleground, but it will know when only one of you is left standing.

  My final rule is to trust no one. Trust is the foundation of failure.” At that, Benedict nodded to the camera. “In the name of the Great Leviathan! Whichever of you that will be…”

  The footage came to an end. The screen went black. That was their father’s last goodbye. It was a lot to digest. It left them with more questions than answers.

  “What the hell was that!?” shouted Troy. He kicked over a nearby chair in his confusion and fury.

  Soon enough, their butler made his way up to the front beside the projection screen. He closed his eyes, as the blue light shined over his face. He cleared his throat and called for everyone’s attention once more. “Children! Children. I’m afraid that every word your father spoke is absolutely true,” murmured Bartleby. He sniveled, but somehow kept authoritative control over the room. “I may have served at your sides during all your lives, but I have been at Benedict’s for decades longer. I would follow that man to hell and back if he asked me to. I hope you realize that what he is doing for one of you is truly in your best interest. I cannot bear to bring myself to see the Leviathan Trial to its conclusion. It is far too excruciating to imagine. From this moment on, I am no longer at your service. Best of luck to all of you! It has been a privilege to serve you all!”

  Bartleby removed a pistol from his pocket and squeezed his eyes shut. He trembled as he tapped his temple with the metal tip. The children screamed and reached out in defiance. But they were too late. The gun cracked like thunder as he pulled the trigger.

  His body never had a chance to react.

  He simply tilted, and then collapsed like a timbering tree.

  The office was a mess. Bits of Bartleby were everywhere.

  The carpet. The walls. The desk.

  The children spent the first few minutes panicking. Then they argued over what really happened. The young boy, Sion, crouched in the corner, claiming it to be a nightmare. He shook his head back and forth, force feeding himself this lie.

  Hiroshi and Allister shoved each other as they debated whether or not they should contact the police. “We won’t get them involved. We don’t even know what’s really going on yet!” claimed Hiroshi. “Think of Benedict’s lifelong work. His companies, donations, friends! This would undo everything. Think of our family name!”

  “You’re crazier than the old man was!” yelled Allister. “Screw our family name. Our butler just offed himself!”

  As they bickered, some of the girls went to comfort wide-eyed and silent Helena. She must have been even more clueless as to what was going on than they were. Eden cried as she draped her jacket over Bartleby’s bloody face—or what was left of it. It did no good for it to be seen by anyone. She kneeled before him and prayed silently.

  “Guys, listen!” Levi interjected. “We need to figure this out together.” His volume and tone were just enough to capture the attention of the others. His public speaking lessons were finally paying off.

  “Figure this out?” derided Blake. “Our father was very clear. He has always been the type to say what he means and mean what he says.”

  “So, he wants us to die?” asked Cynthia.

  “No. He doesn’t want us to die,” mimicked Blake mockingly. “That would be passive. He wants us to kill. He wants us to take action and kill each other as some ultimate trial, proving ourselves worthy of our inheritance and our lives,” Blake spelled out plainly.

  “My God!” Mauve gasped.

  Her shrill cut through the room like a hot knife through butter. “This is insane! I knew you were monsters! And now one of you is going to kill me. I can see it in your soul!” She pointed at her family and bawled her ey
es out. “When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back into you,” she quoted her favorite philosopher, Frederick Nietzsche. Her mascara blackened her trails of tears. “You sick freaks! How dare you play his game! How dare you put more value in your life than mine! I know what you’re thinking! ‘Let’s take out Mauve first. No one would miss her anyway!’” she squeaked, as if taunting their voices.

  “No one’s killing anyone,” confirmed Eden. “The video was filmed recently. Father Benedict was pushing near one hundred in his age. Obviously, he must have been experiencing dementia.”

  None of the others seemed quite convinced. However, even that seemed more logical than what the video told them. Slowly, they began to gravitate towards this explanation, at least for now. That is until, one of them pried something from Bartleby’s cold dead hand.

  “What are you doing with that gun?!” asked Zara. Her eyes were glued to Allister who fiddled with the revolver that was clutched by their butler.

  “Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” he spat. Allister examined it with curiosity. “I don’t care what we saw on the screen. I don’t care if Jesus himself told us what the hell is going on. Pfft! Not that it matters,” he said, chucking the gun to the wall. “There was just a single bullet in it.”

  “I hate to state the obvious, but I feel it does need to be said,” Levi spoke up again. They all gave him the benefit of the doubt and heard him out. “None of us want to cause anyone any harm. Isn’t that right? We may have different viewpoints on countless issues right now, but let’s focus on our commonalities. Do we agree that we want to work together and do not want to hurt anyone?”