Macabre, Part 4 of 4: Endgame

Click to here read "Part 1: Haunted"

Click to here read "Part 2: Guardian"

Click here to read "Part 3: Revelations"

Chapter 1- Act of Contrition

“We’re going to need the tears of a penitent cambion,” Edmund announced. “There’s a spell that might help us out as far as getting rid of the fallen angels that might be there. Asmodeus may have found his way back by now. I’ve got all I need, I just need those tears.”

“And how the hell are we supposed to get that?” John asked as he drove the pickup truck en route to St. Barnabas’ Catholic Church.

“Will my tears work?” Helen asked, laughing quietly to herself. “I’ve been crying all night. One more time won’t hurt.”

“I beg to differ,” John smiled at Helen who smiled back. “But seriously, Ed, how are we supposed to get that? Do we pull out your nose hairs or something?”

“Pull over right here,” Edmund instructed. John drove the truck to the side of the road alongside a chain link fence. Edmund got out of the car and continued to talk as he took out a rosary and a small bottle of holy water. “Pulling out my nose hairs or getting my sister to cry again would give us tears of a cambion. We need the tears of a penitent one.”

“What are you doing?” Helen asked as Edmund climbed over the fence. She was surprised to see him skillfully avoid the barbed wire.

“And how do we make you penitent? I’m mainly asking because I have no idea what that word means.” John added.

“I’m going to the town’s water supply and turning it into a holy water supply. And in order to get penitent tears, one of us would have to cry during a confession.” Edmund ran off and John looked at him knowing what was to be confessed. When Edmund returned John took him aside.

“Is it true?” John asked.

“What are you talking about?” Edmund was in a hurry to get to the church.

“Abe’s last journal entry was in Enochian. It says you killed my brother.”

“John,” Edmund hesitated. “Yes, I did. And I know there’s no way you can forgive me but--”Edmund’s sentence was punctuated with John’s quick right hook.

“Just tell me that Asmodeus thing already took control when it happened!”

“Ed! John!” Helen ran to pull John away from Edmund who was laid out on the ground.

“I’m not going to make any excuses. I committed a horrible act over something petty, I know.” Edmund replied.

“What’s going on?” Helen asked.

“Tell her!” John demanded. “Tell her!”

“Helen,” Edmund started slowly, “I—I killed Paul. Abe and I were on a stakeout for something that was after Paul and--” Her body froze and her eyes stared straight through her brother got to his knees. He looked at her and wanted to explain his action but knew there was no reason to. Edmund felt the sting of her hand as she slapped him across the cheek. He didn’t fight it as she threw punch after punch, her eyes filling with tears. With little effort, John wraps his arms around Helen and pulls her off.

“We better get going,” John pointed out. The entire drive to the church was as silent as the night sky.

Chapter 2- Fire and Water

When they arrived, they gathered behind some tall shrubs just down the street from the church. There were a dozen people walking about the structure. Edmund reached into Abe’s satchel and handed John the bottle of chrism. He handed Helen a rosary and she avoided eye contact as best she could and made sure that he knew it.

“Those cars look familiar,” Helen mentioned.

“They were the neighbors’ cars,” John realized.

“And I’m guessing that those guards are the neighbor’s, or at least demons disguised as them.” Edmund thoughtfully scanned the premises. “If that’s the case then Reuben is definitely here and so are the angels. Fortunately, low level demons can’t enter hallowed ground.”

“So how do we get rid of them?” John asked.

“I can exorcise them if we get them to stay still,” Edmund said. “Since I blessed the town’s water supply the sprinkler system can take care of that. I just need a way to get them on that lawn and I can sneak around and turn on the water works.”

“I’ll go lure them to the grass and you two get those sprinklers on,” Helen suggested.

“No, Helen,” Edmund said. “I’ve never used anyone as bait, and I’m definitely not going to make an exception this time around.”

“I’m with Ed on this one,” John commented.

“I appreciate the concern,” Helen replied, “But I can take care of myself. Besides, they need me alive, don’t they?”

“They need your blood,” Edmund retorted, “I never said they needed you alive.”

“That’s my baby in there,” Helen answered sternly, “And I’m willing to risk it. Now go as soon as you have the chance.” Before her brother can convince her to do otherwise Helen ran to the lawn screaming to the demon guards.

“I can take care of it by myself, John. Go after her,” Edmund took a deep breath. John walked behind Helen quietly being careful not to be seen.

“Hey! I’m over here!” Helen yelled. All the demon possessed neighbors approached her as she slowly lured them to the grass. However, she did not realize that there were three more slowly inching behind her. They screamed in pain as John leapt into plain sight throwing about the holy oil. “Ed! Now! Do it now!”

The sprinklers sputtered and the demons looked about in confusion and before they could realize it was a trap they were caught in the mist of holy water. The water sprayed up and over and side to side instantly sizzling and smoking once it touched a demon’s skin. Edmund ran from behind the church reading an incantation from a book in Abe’s satchel. John and Helen ran to Edmund’s side as the demons writhed in pain dripping wet, smoke rising from their unholy skin until they fell to their knees. They screamed and threw their eyes upwards as their sockets and mouths collectively glowed and emitted black flames. The crowd fell to the ground in unison. Helen ran around back to turn off the sprinkler system. Edmund approached the formerly possessed neighbors and felt for any signs of life.

“All of them seem to be okay,” Edmund commented.

“Where’s Helen,” John asked.

“I think she’s the one who turned the water off,” Edmund said as he walked towards the back of the church. He saw nobody there.

“Father Summers!” a familiar booming voice shouted, “How pleasant of you to join us! And just in time for the ceremony!” It was someone very closely resembling Abe, but someone else entirely different who held a knife to Helen’s throat.

“Let her go, Leviathan!” Edmund shouted back.

“I must say, Father Summers,” Leviathan answered, “I’m quite impressed at your deductive reasoning skills, especially without the aid of Father O’Quinn here.”

“It’s okay, Helen. We’re going to get you and Reuben out of here,” John yelled. Leviathan looked at him as if he were an irritating pest.

“Ah, the angelic novice,” Leviathan finally responded. “You know how long it’s been since I’ve seen a new angel? I’ve got to say I’m not all that impressed. But then again, I have switched teams since the last time I met one of your kind. Come on in, let me get a good look at you; you too, Father Summers. I’d hate for you fellows to miss all the fun. Well, come on! I don’t bite! Okay, sometimes I do but you know what I mean. Move it along.”

Edmund looked at John as if to tell him, “What other choice do we have?” The nervous duo slowly approached the doorway as Leviathan walked Helen into the church. The doors slammed behind them. Leviathan gestured to the front pew and invited them to take a seat while. Helen was being tied to the leg of the altar. Leviathan walked towards the sacristy entrance and walked out holding Reuben who was fast asleep.

“Should we do something?” John asked. “He didn’t tie us up or anything.”

“Did it ever occur to you, John, that I might have back up?”

The door to the crying room squeaked as swayed open. Two sets of footsteps filed out with a clicking on the cold linoleum floor. It echoed throughout the church as the mysterious figures moved from the shadows into the dim light of the flickering candles. John and Edmund nearly fell from their seats as they saw who it was.

“That’s impossible!” John muttered. Edmund didn’t say a single word. Helen wanted to scream but could barely gather enough breath to do so and nearly fainted.

“Dad?” Edmund finally said.

“Paul?” John and Helen said.

Chapter 3- Ceremony and Ritual

“Now we can begin!” Leviathan exclaims, using Abe’s deep throaty voice to echo through the empty church. “Gentlemen, if you please.”

“Do you have any idea how far Upper Egypt is from here?” It was Paul’s voice but Edmund knew it had to be Asmodeus who stood in front of John with his hand extended. The possessed Peter Summers did the same to Edmund. Both clenched their hands into fists. John and Edmund felt an unseen force gripping them tightly and lifting them straight into the air.

“I’m going to assume that that’s Berith defiling my dad’s likeness,” Edmund said as he reached into his pocket. He had taken the ingredients of the spell, all but his own tears, and stuffed them into the small nylon bag. As he pretended to struggle he ground up the herbs into the bit of holy oil and water he kept with him at all times.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, Summers,” Berith answered. “Otherwise, I’d have to kill you this very moment.”

“You know,” Leviathan smiled as he put Reuben on the altar, “I’m sure you know about this ‘baptismal’ ceremony. But The Order of the Third Sphere tends to foul up on the details. And as you know, my supervisor is all about the details.”

“Technically,” John interrupted, “Isn’t he in the details?”

“Very good, Mr. Wesson,” Leviathan smiled like a snake, “It’s nice to know you still have you wit. The most important factor is the infant cambion. Its full power is incumbent on keeping its original sin intact. Hence, that is why we wanted you, Edmund, before you were baptized. So, first, I must check if Reuben is our star quarterback or simply a benchwarmer.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Asmodeus asked, scorned.

“Of course I trust you, brother,” Leviathan responded, fully focused on inspecting Reuben. “But if you recall, Father O’Quinn has a way of spoiling our plans. Posing as that hospital chaplain to baptize Edmund before we could get him was very clever. And who could have expected him to try and exorcise Elizabeth Summers while she was in childbirth.”

“At least that succubus I sent killed her as it left her body,” Asmodeus added.

“Alas, that meant we had to wait years for another addition to the bloodline,” Leviathan appeared frustrated with Asmodeus. “But that’s all under the bridge. There, it looks like this child is clean… Well, technically unclean. Tell me, Father Summers, do you know why I have, of all my brothers, these particular angels with us here?”

“Your specialty is heresy so naturally you’d like to take the future antichrist under your wing. He had to be conceived, which explains Asmodeus sending the lust demons after my friends and family. I can’t quite follow why Berith is here.” Edmund answered.

“Well, I’m sure that you think I simply have to bathe the cambion in his mother’s blood. The truth is I have to kill him. He has to drown in his mother’s blood so he can be resurrected as the antichrist at which point he can start his training. Oh and by the way, in case you had any plans to stop us…,” Leviathan takes out a large knife and stabs himself in the gut.

“No!” Edmund shouted.

“Now even if you manage to exorcise us out of our bodies, all your loved ones will still be dead.”

“John,” Edmund thought, “John I know you can hear me. Angels can read thoughts, John. Can you hear me? Just nod if you can.” John, nervous, nodded.

“I’ve got the spell mixed up in my pocket,” Edmund continued. “Once I whisper the incantation a wind will surround the building shattering the windows and blowing the doors open. It should be enough of a diversion for them to drop us. You go after the angels, I’ll get my sister and nephew out of here. Then I have to burn this nylon bag in my pocket in holy fire. Any candle in here should do.”

“I can’t take them all by myself. I don’t even know what abilities I have or if I have anymore than what we’ve seen!” John sent his thoughts to Edmund.

“Listen to me, all those things you did back at the house; the holy fire, healing Helen, sending Asmodeus away. Those are things that only and Archangel can do out of instinct. I don’t know which one you’re tethered to, but you should be able to handle at least two of these guys. I’ll do what I can to distract Leviathan.”

“I think we should warn Helen so she doesn’t get hurt,” John tried to contact Helen telepathically. “Helen, listen to me--” Leviathan turns his head sharply at John.

“John, don’t!” Edmund shouted.

“Are you up to something, John? Telepathic warnings?” Leviathan stopped the ceremony. “Did you think I’d be stupid enough to let my guard down around the cambion’s mother? Please. Brothers, do with them what you will.”

John and Edmund’s bones began to crack under the pressure being applied on them by Berith and Asmodeus. Edmund clenched his fists and ground his teeth whispering the incantation under his breath. A deafening rumble approached the church from above and surrounded it, engulfing it and violently shattering the stained glass windows. The angels fall to their knees. John and Edmund were released from the angels’ grips and fell to the floor like the rainbow confetti of glass shards. The doors swung wide open, a strong breeze blowing in from all sides of the church. Edmund runs to the altar as he picks up Reuben and kneels down to untie Helen. He gives the baby to his sister and helps them up.

“Take the baby and get out of here as fast as you can!” Edmund yelled. John was being pinned down by both Asmodeus and Berith. Frustrated, John let out an awful scream. Unknowingly, his mouth and eyes glowed with white hot fire. Two spheres of brilliant light shot out of his eyes and pinned Berith and Asmodeus to the walls. Leviathan grasped Edmund with the unseen grip, concentrating its force around the young priest’s neck. Floating through the window were Helen and Reuben, Leviathan guiding them back down to the altar in his hands.

“That’s quite enough!” Leviathan shouted angrily. “John, let them go or Edmund, here, dies.” Reluctantly, John lets the two angels go.

“I’ll take the priest, Leviathan.” Asmodeus offered. “Ed, you looked unkempt. When I was in charge, at least I tried to look my best when we left the house.” Edmund started to chuckle. Leviathan relit the candles that had been blown out.

“What’s so funny, Summers?” Berith asked.

“Don’t you need a piece of a soul to resurrect that body?” Edmund asked.

“What of it?” Asmodeus angrily muttered.

“Dad? Paul? If you can hear me, I know I hurt you both. And it was selfish of me to do so. I mean look at how everything turned out. I’m sorry,” Edmund couldn’t hold back the tears, “I was angry at you and I hope you can forgive me. Please God forgive me.”

“It’s useless, priest,” Berith chuckled. “There’s not enough soul for them to actually hear you.”

“I just figured, if the world’s ending and I’m going to die,” Edmund replied, “I might as well go with a clean slate, you know?” Edmund reached into his pocket and took the nylon bag out, concealing it in his palm.

“What’s going on?” Leviathan demanded.

“I think Summers has given up,” Asmodeus answered. “He’s crying. It’s pathetic: the last tears of a guilty conscience.” Leviathan paused. Edmund wiped his tears with the nylon bag and inched his way to the candles. Edmund discreetly dropped the bag into the glass container and watched the contents burn a gentle green flame.

“Or the tears of a penitent cambion!” Leviathan realized. “The candles! Stop him!” The church began to shake and all angels, John included, were thrown into the air as if suspended on chains.

“Helen! Run!” Edmund shouted. Helen took Reuben and darted outside. Edmund knew the spell would only last for a few seconds and hoped Helen made it to the truck. The suspended angels fell to the ground. Asmodeus immediately transports outside and cuts Helen off before reaching the truck. Leviathan grabs John by the throat and lifts him into the air. Berith swiftly drives a large knife through Edmund’s back. Father Summers falls to his knees and then face down on the church’s linoleum floor.

“No!” The word struggled to climb out of John’s throat through Leviathan’s strong grip.

“It’s a shame,” Leviathan mentioned. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight.” John reached over and a flood of information came into his troubled mind. He laid his right hand on Leviathan’s forehead and forced the choking hand to let go. He whispered some words in Enochian and with a violent whoosh, Leviathan was exorcised from Father O’Quinn’s lifeless body.

Berith took out his knife and attempted to strike down at John from behind but John quickly turned around and sent him flying to the opposite wall with a mere thought. Berith quickly swooped in towards John and the two struggled in epic hand to hand combat. Meanwhile, Asmodeus dusted himself off and raised his hands about to strike Helen.

“We don’t need you alive; just your blood,” Asmodeus growled. A skinny but strong hand held Asmodeus’ wrist and turned him around. The stranger’s other hand landed on Asmodeus’ forehead. A familiar voice muttered an Enochian phrase instantly exorcising Asmodeus back to perdition. Paul’s body crumbles to dust.

“Thank you,” Helen says breathing hard, “Thank you, Edmund.”

“I’m not Edmund,” he responded without turning around to look at her. He disappeared, melting into white smoke as he walked away. He appeared in the church and saw John struggling with Berith and grabbed the last fallen angel from behind. John rolled away from underneath them and jumped to his feet laying his right hand on Berith’s forehead finally expelling him from Peter Summers’ body. Just as Paul Wesson crumbled, Peter’s body turned to ash and fell in a gray cloud in the middle of the church.

“Hello, John,” the one who appeared as Edmund said. “Do you remember me?”

“I do,” John responded. “I like the new look. It’s been a long time, Raphael.”

Chapter 4- Resolution

Abe had a simple funeral and few were in attendance. There was no grand ceremony or extravagant dressings for the coffin. Only a few friends surrounded the lonely grave, but Father O’Quinn wouldn’t have it any other way. John, now a fully fledged angel upon his reunion with Raphael, stood silently besides Helen and Reuben. Raphael stood behind them all still as posing Edmund.

“What happens now, John?” Helen asked.

“His name is longer John,” Raphael explains. “Since becoming one of the Heavenly Hosts, we have dubbed him with a new moniker. He is Lazarus.”

“I know, Raphael,” Helen replied, “It’s just easier this way. It’s hard to accept that he’s technically dead.”

“I understand,” Raphael said.

“I wish I knew what was next, Helen,” John responded. “I really do. But I suppose that’s a good thing that we don’t know. I guess now we just live our lives. But what I don’t understand is why I still have John’s memories. I still feel human.”

“Actually, John,” Raphael said. “I have arranged for you to stay here on earth. You’ve been given a new assignment. I guess you can say that you’re my replacement.”

“What do you mean?” Helen asked as Reuben fidgeted in her arms. “What’s his new assignment?”

“You,” Raphael answered as he patted Reuben on the head. “He has been sanctioned to be your family’s guardian angel. I’ve arranged for him to keep John’s memories. I thought it would be easier to assimilate that way.”

“Oh, my God,” Helen smiled. “That’s amazing! Thank you so much! And here I thought I was going to lose someone else.”

“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” John joked.

“Unfortunately, I’m going to have to leave you now,” Raphael said, “but there is one last thing I have to do. Take care of yourselves. John, I’ll be checking in on you from time to time.” Raphael fell to his knees as his eyes glowed brilliantly. The light went out and he started to cough violently.

“Raphael,” Helen asked, “are you okay?”

John stared intently at him; he was on all fours, exhausted and breathing hard. There was something different about his appearance to John.

“Wait,” John said. “You’re not Raphael anymore. Who are you?”

“Hey guys. It’s me, Ed,” he responded.

“Raphael brought you back?” Helen asked.

“No,” John said.

“I’m here to say goodbye,” Edmund looked at Abe’s grave and choke up. “Dad and I are spending a whole lot more time together, Helen. And Paul checks in on you and Reuben a lot. We all are actually. Mom’s there too. I just wanted to let you know that you’re going to want to take extra care of the little one now that it’s just you and Lazarus here.”

Edmund walked over and said a prayer over Abe’s grave. “We’re expecting him soon.” Helen smiles and hugs Edmund.

“I’m glad you’ve found peace, Edmund,” Helen said.

“I couldn’t be happier,” Edmund said still looking at Abe’s grave.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“Goodbye, sis. And I know you still haven’t forgive me, but--”

“Ed, stop. It’ll take time, but I’ll get there eventually.”

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Lazarus wrapped his arm around Helen who held Reuben tightly to protect him from the sharp cold of the gray autumn afternoon. They walked to the pickup truck and discussed the usual things a family would discuss on the way home. For the first time in just over a year, they smiled at each other and knew what it meant to be content and happy.

Macabre, Part 3 of 4: Revelations

Click to here read "Part 1: Haunted"

Click to here read "Part 2: Guardian"

Chapter 1- Genesis

Peter Summers, C. E. O. of Summers Defense Technology, had no knowledge of any apocalyptic prophesies. When he befriended the District Attorney, he could not control the fact that his children would befriend his own children. By the time his daughter was old enough to start a family of her own, he was already dead and no idea she would ask her childhood friend, the D.A.’s son, to be her first child’s godfather. That godfather had political aspirations and in the not too distant future he will rise to become the President of the United States.

Had Peter Summers known any apocalyptic prophesies he would have known that the antichrist would be raised in a position of power. Should his daughter and son-in-law be killed, custody of their child would go to the only godparent and soon to be leader of the free world. Unfortunately, no one told Peter Summers that this was possible and expediting the occurrence were the minions of Hell. The only people who can stop it from happening are a young priest, a worried mother, and a neophyte angel huddled in an empty house.

Peter’s wife, Elizabeth Summers, died while she was giving birth to Helen. The complications of childbirth are sometimes beyond a doctor’s control but Peter needed peace of mind. As luck would have it the same hospital chaplain present when Edmund was born, Father Abraham O’Quinn, was present. Peter grabbed him by the arm and asked him to pray over Elizabeth. The gravelly voiced priest laid his hands on Elizabeth’s head and uttered an incantation in Latin. Unbeknownst to Peter, Elizabeth was infected with a virus. The virus was not biological in origin but demonic and Abe attempted to exorcise it from her body. He did so successfully before any major damage was done to the baby. Elizabeth, however, was a casualty in this battle between good and evil.

Typically, the actual demon being exorcised cannot be seen by the naked human eye. But Abe saw a young two-year-old Edmund stood with his mouth agape in the doorway. The child’s eyes were wide with trauma, swimming in tears, staring at the space above the lifeless body of his mother. The piercing hum of the EKG brought in the nurses and doctors. Peter held Elizabeth’s hand tightly as a nurse wheeled the infant Helen away. Abe dove towards the door and took Edmund to the hallway.

“That’s no place for a little boy to be,” Abe said to him. There was no response. “Did you see something, boy? Answer me, Edmund.” The boy nodded in the affirmative, unable to cry. While the doctors and nurses did all they could it was too late for Elizabeth Summers. Abe offered to help console the family in their time of need; a clever ruse to observe Edmund’s abilities.

Days grew into months, and months into years. Each test that Abe administered just further proved that Edmund was gifted in the way of spell casting. However, the priest realized the potential of connecting this family with apocalyptic prophesy and vowed to protect them. Edmund had taken a liking to Abe who took the boy under his wing. Abe trained him to hone his skills and took him on regular hunting trips in which the game was not deer but demons.

Years later on a warm spring day, Peter Summers died of a cardiac arrest. In the will, he stipulated that Summers Defense Technologies to be run by the board as he felt his children would not want to run the family business. There were two large sums of money that was assumed to go to his two children. One went to Helen, and the other went to Helen’s fiancé, Paul. Edmund was inconsolable and would not listen to Abe who reasoned that this was Peter’s way of accepting his son joining the clergy. The bitter Edmund ran out of the lawyer’s office, his eyes red and wet with tears.

Chapter 2- Ordo Sphaerae Tertius

“I almost forgot that you wanted to be a priest at one time, Ed,” Helen added as she looked slowly around the room. Her breath was shallow as she saw John shuffling the pages of the book and Edmund arranging whatever it was he was arranging. The sounds of rustling paper, the crackling fire, even the subtle fall of drizzling water on the street became deafening to her.

“Can we, please, stop!?! Please!”Helen finally screamed. John and Edmund stood still staring at each other in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” Edmund asked.

“How can any of this be happening? This is impossible!” Helen looked at the others as if they were total strangers. “Why are you not freaked out by any of this, Ed? This doesn’t make any sense!” Edmund sighed knowing that certain secrets had to be revealed.

“I actually finished my training to be a priest, Helen,” Edmund finally said. “It was supposed to be kept under covers. I was supposed to be Abe’s replacement.”

“That doesn’t actually answer anything, Ed,” John commented. Edmund gestured to Abe’s journal.

“All of this goes way back to even before I was born. I was being trained as a member of the Order of the Third Sphere. That’s what Ordo Sphaerae Tertius, the brand on that notebook, means. It’s Latin; a reference to the hierarchy of angels. Legend has it that an Angel started the order so no one’s actually sure how much the papacy knows of our existence. We have been around for centuries. It’s a secret society; a sub-sect of the Vatican and we specialize on the macabre, performing exorcisms and hunting demons and the like.

“Abe was on a hunting mission when he first met dad. He posed as the hospital chaplain and informally baptized me in the nursery to avoid some sort of kidnapping. It was demons, he found out later. Apparently, it was crucial that they take me, particularly not baptized. I’m still not exactly sure why.”

“I don’t believe this,” Helen said.

“I wish I could tell you I’m lying,” Edmund answered, “I really do. I wish I could take all this back and change it to the way things were before. I’m so sorry about Reuben, about Paul, and Abe.”

“Ed, that wasn’t your fault,” Helen tried to comfort him. John refused to let emotion bleed through to his rugged face.

Chapter 3- Edmund the Pharisee

The only luxury of becoming a member of The Order of the Third Sphere was the anonymity. Edmund and Abe travelled to every corner of the globe without appearing to be traditional clergymen. Their last mission together found them in Barbados to follow and closely watch the newlyweds, Paul and Helen. It had been delegated amongst the two priests that young Edmund would be the one to follow the honeymooners, unnoticed of course. Meanwhile, Abe was to keep a watch for any indication of demonic activity. The older priest already had suspicions that an incubus set its eyes on possessing Paul.

The clear sky glowed in the sun baked warmth of the beach for all but one hour when clouds ominously gathered over the Wesson’s hotel. Lightning shot in all directions and a fierce downpour ensued before instantaneously clearing up again. The happy tourists, including Paul and Helen, looked up at the sky laughing at nature’s oddities. Their clothes stuck to them, wet with rainwater and sweat. Abe and Edmund looked at each other sternly, the only two faces in the area without smiles on them.

“Strange weather,” Edmund joked.

“Whatever is here, it isn’t very subtle,” Abe responded.

“It’s definitely coming for Paul and Helen. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a weather omen localize itself like that. I wonder why that is.”

“One possibility is that the incubus that’s after Paul is getting cocky,” Abe chuckled, “as if it’s ever that simple.”

“Or we’re ever that lucky. What’s another explanation?”

“Worst case scenario is that it was marking the hotel with that freak lightning storm of an omen.”

“Why would a sex demon do that?”

“Maybe it’s calling for backup and flagging where their big target is.”

“Perfect,” Edmund sighed in frustration.

Each night Edmund would sit in the stairwell just outside the door that led to the floor leading to the honeymoon suite as Abe patrolled the lobby. He was armed with holy water, a book of exorcism rituals, and other blessed charms ready to use them at a moment’s notice should an incubus be in the same building let alone the same floor. For the first two days nothing happened. It was completely quiet save for the few parties being thrown in the hotel that echoed through the cavernous concrete and steel stairwell. But the air was more humid than usual and somehow the stairs were colder on the third night.

The otherwise dimly lit stairway was bathed in a brilliant light that stirred uneasiness in Edmund more so than fear. An eerie black glow seemed to outline a winged man standing directly in front of Edmund who clutched his bottle of holy water tightly.

“You’ll find that that is of no use to me here,” the voice said. Still Edmund refused to listen and threw some holy water at the mysterious being. There was no affect.

“I’m dreaming?” Edmund asked. “But that means you’re an angel. Who are you?”

“Think about it Father Summers. You’re here hunting demons of the flesh. You know I’m an angel. I think you can figure it out for yourself.”

“Asmodeus? Why are you here? You leave my sister and her husband alone!”

“I’m afraid you’re too late,” Asmodeus answered. “You’ve been asleep for almost an hour now. I’ve already infected Paul.”

“You’re going to kill me!”

“I’m not going to kill you. You might prove useful to me in the future.”

“You’re pretty naïve if you think I’m just going to hand over my body as your vessel!”

“You priests, especially the ones in that silly little Order of the Third Sphere with your bottles of holy water. You think you know what we’re all about. You dedicate yourselves to a God who doesn’t care enough to show up in your time of need.”

“Shut up! I’m going to figure out a way to wake up!” Edmund ran to the door but it was locked.

“You’ve dedicated your life to upholding the laws of the Church. Ever since you were a small child you obediently followed all the rules, never stirred the pot for your selfish gains, even trained with Father O’Quinn to become a demon hunter to protect your little sister. I was like you once. And I was cast out of paradise much like you were cut from your father’s love just like you were cut from his will. It hurts. I understand.”

Edmund leapt down the flight of stairs to the next floor and swung the door open. Instead of a hallway of more hotel rooms, he was in his father’s office. He took a seat in the chair almost by instinct. The leather seat in front of him turned around to reveal his father sitting in it. Tears were in Edmund’s eyes.

“You’re a disappointment, son,” Peter’s voice boomed and echoed, “It’s one thing to be a priest. I can forgive you for robbing me of a grandson bearing the proud Summers name, but… You’re telling me you see ghosts and demons.”

“Dad,” Edmund choked on his words. The words echoed from true memories and took shape in this nightmare that Asmodeus had created. Suddenly Edmund was in a straight jacket. “I trusted you, Dad. I trusted you with my secret abilities and this is how you repay a good son? Your only son?”

The jacket grew tighter and tighter. Edmund couldn’t breathe and began to struggle in his chair. He fell to the floor which crumbled beneath him and fell away into an infinite abyss. As he fell he saw his father hugging Paul and faintly heard his father say, “I’ve always wanted a son like you.” Edmund awoke with a jolt and found himself tucked into the corner of the stairwell, still clutching tightly to his bottle of holy water.

Abe took a seat in the lobby assuring himself that it was too late in the night for anything to make their move. Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, a screeching siren wailed outside and grew louder with each passing second finally stopping in front of the main entrance. Two paramedics filed out of the van, the lights blinking intense reds and whites across Abe’s concerned face. As they ran to the front desk, Edmund came out of the stairway entrance and sat down besides Abe.

“Why aren’t you at your post, son?” Abe asked. The paramedics rushed a gurney up the stairway.

“Something happened.”

“What is it? Was it the incubus?”

“Yes.”

“Did you stop it?”

“I was too late, Abe.”

“I thought you said you stopped it.”

“It won’t hurt anyone anymore. There was something else up there. It was something we never anticipated.”

“So there was something big coming?”

“Asmodeus.”

“An angel? How did you get rid of it?”

“It put me to sleep and that’s when it got to Paul,” Edmund’s breath shivered past his lips.

“Did you exorcise it? Is that how you took care of it?” Abe asked sternly, “Answer me, son.”

“You did the exact same thing to my mother and even that wasn’t enough.”

“How did you take care of Paul, son?” Abe’s eyebrows furrowed a worried wrinkle on his forehead. The elevator doors opened and the paramedics wheeled out the gurney carrying a body. Nobody could see who it was. Helen’s uncontrollable weeping can be heard echoing in the elevator following the paramedics. Abe could feel a chill strike down the length of his spine as he turned towards Edmund.

“Did I ever tell you exactly what happened when I told my father about my abilities? He wanted to have me committed. It ripped my heart out when he said I was a political liability to the family name. You were right, I should have just told him I wanted to be a priest and leave it at that.”

“Son, is this about the will? Are you still angry about that?”

“Did you know he was actually proud of me when I told him I wanted to go into the priesthood? But I had to be greedy and tell him everything and now I’m paying for it.”

“We spent a whole day talking about the vows and the process to becoming a priest. He decided to leave you out of his will because he felt it would interfere with your vow of poverty.”

“Please, Abe!” Edmund said firmly. “Don’t defend him, not anymore. I was the good son and I got screwed over. I get that. I just don’t understand how or why he saw Paul as more of a son than me; his own flesh and blood.”

“Edmund, just have a drink and calm down,” Abe gave him some water. Edmund sipped but didn’t react to the holy water so he wasn’t possessed himself. “Obviously, you went through a lot just now. Walk me through, son. Tell me exactly what happened.”

“I need some air, Abe. It’s the point of no return, and I just need some fresh air,” Edmund stood straight up and walked outside, out of sight of Abe’s wise old eyes. Edmund leaned against the wall in an alley and began to cry.

“Looks like you didn’t even need me,” Asmodeus said startling the young priest.

“Leave me alone.”

“I’ll do you one better. I can make you disappear from the face of the earth. No one will be able to find you no matter what charms or spells the old man digs up.”

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want, Father Summers,” Asmodeus grinned.

“Okay,” Edmund whispered in his quaking breath, “okay.”

Chapter 4- Hidden Talents

“I have to start on this,” Edmund was distant when he took out a board with strange symbols written all over it. Along with the board there was piece of wood crudely carved into the shape of a heart. He laid it out in front of him and took out the leaves in the small nylon bag and arranged them neatly in a row as if he were preparing to bring together some strange recipe. Helen and John watched in wonderment and awe as Edmund seemed to be moving purely on instinct.

“John, if you please,” Edmund said without missing a beat, “Could you keep looking through that journal? I never know how much information this particular method is going to give me. Abe will most likely have new information in there since I’ve last seen it.”

“Sure,” John opened the book, “By the way, I saw notes up on Abe’s wall. One of them had Asmodeus’ name on it along with two others: Leviathan and Berith.”

“Angels,” Edmund answered succinctly, “Fallen angels like Lucifer; each with their own specialties. Leviathan was a seraph who spreads heresies and Berith, a cherub, drives people to commit homicides. Asmodeus, also a seraph, specialized in lust and all do their jobs expertly in the name of corrupting as many innocent souls as possible. If Abe is right about those suspects, and he usually is, then we’ve got one hell of a battle ahead of us.”

“I have a question,” John said as his eyes quickly scanned the notebook, “What’s a cambion? You mentioned it, kept saying that’s what Reuben was, when you were possessed.”

“Well, since you asked,” Edmund paused, “I’m a cambion and so is Helen and in all likelihood, she passed that genetic curse to Reuben. It is a hybrid human and demon, more specifically, a sex demon which happens to be a specialty of Asmodeus. It’s the result of a human woman and an incubus or a human man and a succubus.”

“Paul was an incubus?” Helen asked.

“Abe found out he may have been infected in some way by Asmodeus on the genetic level so Paul would have no idea if he was. But we also know that Asmodeus infected mom’s DNA as well. So Reuben is technically half human and half… whatever a succubus and incubus make. But it’s also possible that he’s just a very powerful cambion.”

“And what does that mean?” John asked.

“Nothing good,” Edmund replied. “Helen can you get me a piece of paper and a pen? It’s funny. All cambions have special abilities. Mine was a penchant for spells and witchcraft, much like Merlin who was also a cambion by the way. But we never found out what Helen’s gift was.” She ran and got the items for her brother trying to pretend her premonition dreams didn’t count as a gift. Edmund took the bottle of water that was in the satchel and sprinkles them on the other items.

“This is a talking board,” Edmund explained, “It works a lot like a Ouija board but a whole lot more effective. This heart shaped slab is a planchette and will literally spell out something, hopefully useful. If random spirits are watching what’s going on, then they may offer some information. John, are you done with that holy fire?”

“By all means, Ed,” John answered as if Edmund were asking to finish his leftovers. Edmund whispered an incantation in some foreign or dead tongue and one by one threw the leaves into the fire. Slowly, the fire consumed them and it created thin white ribbons of smoke dragging orange sparks up the chimney. When all leaves were burnt to ash, Edmund closed his eyes and whispered something to the planchette.

“Get out of the way of the fireplace,” Edmund instructed and they followed. The house began to shake, engulfed by a wind that seemed to isolate itself around the house and none other on the street. The gales grew into a concentrated torrent that charged straight down the chimney blowing the fire out. Wind seemed to hover over the talking board and take control of the planchette which shook violently before darting back and forth on the board. John and Helen were frightened but Edmund was writing down something, keeping track of which characters the heart shaped slap landed. Suddenly the wind calmed and the house was no longer shaking.

“What did it say?” John asked, excited and nervous.

“’Baptized in blood,’” Edmund responded blankly, “Unfortunately, I have no idea what that means.”

“Actually, I think there’s something in here about a sanguine christening ritual but it involves end-of- the-world type stuff. It mentions serpents and beasts, a false prophet, and--”

“The antichrist?” Edmund responded as a question but knew it was the answer. “Abe had been doing research on it the last time I saw him. All of those things are most likely going to be derived from cambions. Go ahead and read it.”

“It says, ‘Original sin is wiped when baptized in holy water and/or chrism (holy oil), but is bolstered when the person is bathed in the blood of their mother. The ritual must be performed on hallowed ground. For it to be fully effective, the ungodly act must be committed by three important beings that specialize in wantonness, bloodlust, and the ritual itself.’ That’s some pretty gruesome stuff.”

“It would explain why Abe suspects those three angels though. This stuff is right up their alley. In fact, I’m pretty sure that Leviathan might be the one possessing Abe now that I think about it. I guess that’s why those demons wanted me and it explains why Abe’s baptism scared them off. Unfortunately, ‘hallowed ground’ can mean anything from a church to a synagogue to a cemetery.” Edmund responded deep in thought.

“I might have an answer,” Helen spoke up, “I didn’t want to say anything when I was younger because everyone would think I was crazy. But I have dreams.”

“Did you have one about the location?” Edmund asked.

“Just before John put that stuff in my eyes I was out cold and I remember dreaming about a church. All of us were just outside a small church with a small steeple, but there was no name. At least, I don’t remember it.” Helen gripped her blouse tightly; nervous and relieved that she was not crazy.

“That’s okay,” Edmund reassured her, “Was there anything off putting about the dream?”

“John took out a bible and started writing in it. I think you, Ed, were in a tree. It looked like an olive tree but I could be wrong. And I was holding some sort of staff. Does that mean anything?”

“If John is becoming an angel, then writing in the bible would mean—Matthew!”

“What?” John was confused.

“Each writer of the four gospels is attributed with a symbol. Saint Matthew’s symbol is the angel. So the vision of you writing in the bible means the church we’re looking for might have to do with the Gospel of Saint Matthew. The olive tree is a bit perplexing. It could mean anything. Unless… of course! Helen’s staff was probably a pilgrim’s staff! And then there’s the olive branch and the Gospel of Matthew!”

“Care to fill us in, Ed?” John asked, still confused.

“John, I need you to look up any churches in the area named after Saint Barnabas! The staff, olive branch and Gospel of Matthew are all attributes of Saint Barnabas! That’s the church where we need to be! They will have taken Reuben there. I know it!”

“How do you know they’re still in the area?” John asked as he took out his cell phone.

“Because they still need Helen and they wouldn’t risk being trapped by someone else in The Order by going somewhere on the other side of the planet.”

“Got it!” John exclaimed as he held out the results displayed on his cell phone. “The only Saint Barnabas church within fifty miles of here is over on Donner Street. What’s the plan?”

Click to read here "Part 4: Haunted"

Macabre, Part 2 of 4: Guardian

Click here to read "Part 1: Haunted"

Chapter 1- The First Meeting

Of all the memories, good and bad, that were swimming in John Wesson’s chattering mind there was only one that he was sure would never leave him. He would forget about his friends from high school, the smell of summer vacation, and the feel of tearing wrapping paper between his fingers on Christmas Day before forgetting this particular memory. He was in college when it happened.

The smells of dilapidated binding and old pages hung in the stale library air so vividly. All he had to do was close his eyes and he was there again. The feel of the cheap carpeting pressing against the soles of his shoes was almost comforting. It was early February. It had to be, John told himself. It was much too cold and he was much lonelier than usual for it to be any other time of year. John’s shoulders slumped over like they always do, like they always have, his face buried in a book that wasn’t about to be read anytime soon.

Whenever the elevator doors would open there was always that split second, that sweet delusion that whoever was coming off was there to see him. There was always a rush of even colder air, perhaps sneaking in from the elevator shaft when those heavy metallic doors slid open. The delicate whooshing sound always made John’s spine quiver nervously. That hopeless romantic that lay hidden within John always stirred as the elevator arrived as if that special someone would come out of it.

But as luck would have it, fate was on John’s side that day. Her golden hair fell softly on her shoulders and time halted when John caught sight of her. Her smile was as sweet as her perfume but one would be hard pressed to convince him that she was wearing any at all. The butterflies fluttered about in John’s stomach as, for a fraction of a second, her shimmering blue eyes met his and it seemed the world melted away from either of them. John wanted to say something, anything. “Hi” or “I’m in your history class,” would have sufficed but the words were stuck, fluttering with the butterflies as she walked passed him.

He went home later that day, his head still in the clouds, his heart still heavy with the strain of regret, of hesitation. The phone rang and no one else was around to answer it so he lifted the receiver to his ear. It was his brother Paul who was inviting him to the local bar. The same Paul who had moved out of the house just two years prior and never bothered to write or call. Paul told him that it was important, that there was something he needed to tell him.

John was exhausted when he arrived to the bar. Paul, on the other hand, had a large smile on his face when he saw his brother enter. With his free hand, the other holding what was obviously not his first beer, Paul grabbed his brother by arm and laughed jovially.

“What’s wrong with you? I didn’t know you were in the neighborhood.”

“I wanted to surprise you. I was actually around campus today.” Paul kept watching the door.

“Why?” John’s eyes were unconsciously looking towards the door as well for no particular reason.

“I wanted to surprise you during one of your classes.”

“You never came to any of my classes today.”

“Ah, well that’s part of the big news,” Paul replied. All his attention turned towards the door, his smile growing even wider. “I kind of bailed on that plan. You, see I was trying to find my way around when I met a girl. She’s beautiful and… Well, she’s just incredible and I wanted you to meet her!”

“What’s her name?” John’s voice trailed as he saw that golden hair, that sweet smile, those shimmering blue eyes walking towards him again. His heart tied itself into knots as Paul wrapped his large arms around her and they kissed each other.

“Helen,” Paul said, “This is my brother, John Wesson. He’s good people. John, this is Helen Summers.”

The world melted away from John as he sank into a shadow of himself. The sounds of the world were finding it difficult to reach his ears. Blood rushed from his face and he felt sick and all he could smell in the air was the bitterness of the beer mixing with the stench of cigarette smoke. As the evening progressed, John was finding it increasingly difficult to nod and smile at their conversations. John had to excuse himself after his eighth beer which made it difficult to hold back his tears.

A year later, Paul and Helen were still seeing each other on the weekends. Their relationship carried over long distances during the week with the main line of communication between them being John. Usually, it would take a month or two to get over something like this, but being the messenger boy for both parties only exacerbated the problem.

Being the optimist that he was, John took the opportunity to get to know Helen better and they became close friends, practically family. Helen’s father was always busy at work, and her brother, Edmund would be away on hunting trips almost every weekend. Since their mother passed away during Edmund’s birth, that left John to be Helen’s closest confidant. One day, she called

“John?” Helen’s voice quivered over the phone, “Has Paul left yet?”

“Paul’s still here but he stepped out for a few minutes. What’s wrong, Helen?”

“Oh.” Her voice seemed to unknowingly settle into a shaky whisper floating between apprehension and elation. “Then can I tell you something? I really need to talk to someone right now.”

“Sure, Helen, of course. What’s up?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

John was silent for a beat until he managed to muster up a congratulations from his hesitant mouth.

Chapter 2- Little Help

Helen and John were showered with the cold pale moonlight in the middle of the empty street. Her cheeks were sticky with dried tears as no more would fall. His eyes were cold as stone looking around the neighborhood, suspicious of how quiet it was. How could no one hear the screams? It slowly grew darker as the inconstant moon was engulfed by the ravenous clouds. There was much moisture in the air but no rain dared to fall. A flash of lightning streaked across the gray clouds as John squeezed Helen’s shoulders and gathered her to her feet and walked her back in the house.

“Father O’Quinn?” These were the only words that could find their way out of Helen’s mouth. “Why? I don’t understand what’s going on. How are you alive, John? Why did he take the baby?”

“I don’t know. I’m just as much in the dark as you are,” John carried Edmund’s unconscious body into the warm den and dropped it besides the still crackling fireplace. Almost as if by instinct, he knelt in front of the fire and held out his right hand in front of it. Some mysterious language was uttered by his lips. He stood up and repeated the ritual on each wall of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m blessing the fire and the room.”

“How do you know how to do that? You’ve never struck me as a religious person.”

“It’s just here,” he pointed to his head, “It’s almost as if some sort of switch was flipped when I was… killed. Was I dead?” All Helen could do was nod.

“Why would Father O’Quinn of all people do this? I mean, he just disappeared into thin air. It was almost like he was a ghost or something.”

“That wasn’t Father O’Quinn,” John responded looking through the cardboard boxes, “It’s hard to explain but when he waved at us, I saw something different in him. He wasn’t that kind old priest that you introduced me to this afternoon.” He pulled out some rope, a few rags, and a small plastic tub and ran into the den. He took the rope and waved it over the top of the flames which licked at the twine, burning it but not consuming it. John then unraveled a few feet and bound the unconscious possessed Edmund by his hands and feet.

“Does that mean Ed isn’t Ed?” Helen stood back unsure of what to make of it all.

“Yes, but this rope should be able to hold him if he wakes up. It should be able to keep whatever has taken control of him and keep him in trapped in Ed’s body until we can get some answers. Stay here and call me if he begins to wake up.” John darted to the kitchen with the plastic tub and began filling it with water.

“I don’t understand any of this, John.” Helen stood at the doorway of the den watching the shadow of Edmund’s body dance about on the floor. She turned her head to peek at what John was doing in the kitchen and failed to notice that her possessed brother had regained consciousness. John laid his hand over the tub of water and blessed it as he did the fire.

Helen let out a piercing scream as she fell to the floor clutching at her eyes. John ran to the freezer and pulled out the rolled up newspaper containing Abe’s housewarming trout, still not fully frozen. She twitched on the floor violently in agony as bursts of black smoke exploded in her eye sockets. There were two patches of melting sizzled skin where her eyes used to be. Her cries for help sent chills up John’s spine. She passed out on the floor in shock.

“So it was you who knocked me out,” Asmodeus muttered as he looked up at John. “I must be getting rusty. I’m not used to killing people in this form. I’ll try and kill you properly next time.”

“Where’s the baby?” John demanded.

“The baby? Oh, you mean the cambion. A friend of mine took him. It’s a very important ceremony, you know, which reminds me: Helen and I need to get going if we’re going to be there in time.” Asmodeus struggled, confused as to why he could not break out of the rope he was tied in. “Why can’t I get out of this? What did you do to it?”

“What’s a cambion? What are you talking about?”

“I asked first,” the creature turned towards the fireplace and saw something different about it, “Is that holy fire?”

“Where did you take Reuben?” John asked sternly. “Answer me!” John threw one of the rags into the tub of water and threw it over Asmodeus’ face, which instantly began to smoke and sizzle. The possessed Edmund cried out in pain unable to shake the cloth from his face. “It’s not coming off until you tell me where you took the baby!”

John took the crumpled ball of newspaper and hastily took out the trout, laying it gently on the floor. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a Swiss Army knife and cut open the fish’s belly. Asmodeus continued to writhe in pain. John slowly approached Helen who was softly breathing, soundly asleep. He brushed her hair to the side, out of the way of her eyes. John took out the innards of the trout and laid them messily on the floor, poking his finger around to find the gallbladder. The small brown slimy organ wriggled in his hand as he hurriedly ground it into a wet paste in his palms.

He cupped his hand and collected most of the paste into a single hand using the other hand to spread it over Helen’s eyes. Immediately, Helen’s breathing started to calm down once the cold gallbladder paste hit her skin. She slowly started to revive and pushed herself up feeling the cold paste pressing against her eyes. Her skinny fingers floated, shivering, to her eyes to wipe it off but John held her hands back. His large fingers startled Helen, but she recognized the warmth of his palms. John took another rag and soaked it in the holy water, using it to wipe off the paste from Helen’s eyes which were magically restored. Her eyelids slowly flickered back to life and the fuzzy image slowly settled into the familiar face of John.

“This really hurts!” Asmodeus interrupted sarcastically. John walked over to the possessed Edmund and yanked the wet cloth from his face. Clinching his fist tightly, John swung at the impostor’s chin. The punch was responded with a cackling laugh. “You’re not getting anything out of me! I live in Hell, Johnny Boy! You’re going to have to do a whole lot better than holy water to piss me off!”

“Have it your way,” John went to the scattered guts of the trout and picked up two pieces and showed them to Asmodeus. “One fish heart and liver, extra crispy! Coming right up!” He tossed the two small organs into the holy fire and the smoke whorled into the air seductively. For the first time, Asmodeus’ eyes were saturated with genuine worry.

“Where did you learn that?” his eyes darted to John. Asmodeus squinted as if to inspect John’s appearance more closely. “I did kill you, didn’t I? That means you’re a… No, it can’t be. I haven’t seen one of you in a few millennia. What are you doing here? Who sent you? There’s no way you could’ve known!”

The smoke hung in the air and as it reached Asmodeus’ ears, he began to cough violently. Beams of brilliant light burst through his eyes and mouth as Asmodeus screamed in frustration and excruciating pain. The room shook and rumbled as if a bolt of lightning was struck from within Edmund’s frail body. Edmund’s chest heaved back and forth in a sickened rhythm. His lungs beat breath hurriedly from his exhausted body. John bent over to untie him.

“Are you sure it’s him now?” Helen was still apprehensive.

“He’s worn out, but I’m sure it’s him this time.”

“What happened to that- that-,” she couldn’t find the words.

“I still don’t know how I know this,” John attempted to answer, “but I think I just sent it to Upper Egypt. I thought I could get more information out of him. Little help that turned out to be.”

Edmund groaned softly and his sister rushed to his side comforting him. She looked at the cut up fish on the floor as she rubs Ed’s back, slowly motioning her hand in small circles. Her eyes follow the trail of guts and go back and forth to the fire. She swallows hard and holds her brother’s hand but notices something off with the newspaper that the trout was wrapped in.

“What’s that?” She points to the newspaper. “There’s some sort of writing in the paper, but I can’t make out what it says.”

John walks towards it and picks it up. Laying it flat on the floor, Helen sees that the writing is in some sort of foreign language. Edmund’s eyes slowly peel open as he sees the strange symbols.

“Enochian,” Edmund said. “I’m not very good at it without a key to help me transcribe it, but that last word. It says--”

“It says ‘-Abe,’” John completed Edmund’s thought.

“That’s right,” Edmund was astounded, “Thanks for getting rid of Asmodeus, by the way. That’s some heavy duty stuff you pulled back there.”

“I’m still trying to figure all this out,” John explained.

“Do you know what the rest of it says, John?” Helen asked.

“Yeah,” John answered, “It says, ‘If you used this fish for anything other than eating, then in all likelihood you can read this. My journal should provide most of the answers if I am not around. –Abe.’ My best bet is that this journal is in Father O’Quinn’s place.”

“I’ll get it,” Edmund struggled to get up but was clearly in pain.

“No, Ed. You need your rest. I’ll go get it,” John offered.

“Neither of you are getting that damn journal!” Helen demanded. “For all we know, there could be a trap in Father O’Quinn’s house. More of those things could be waiting for us inside!”

“I know Abe really well, sis,” Edmund added. “If he was prepared to get this note to us, then he would have been able to anticipate any attacks on his house.”

“Besides, Helen,” John said, “We have no other choice. There’s no other way to find out where they took Reuben.”

Helen hung her head and paused for a beat, eventually relenting. “Okay,” she whispered, “Be careful, John. Please, be careful.” John knelt beside her and kissed her on the cheek and slapped Edmund on the shoulder.

“Wait, John,” Edmund strained to get to his knees and look at Abe’s house across the street. His lips curled into a smile as he stared at the newly planted garden. “Abe’s journal is most likely in a worn out leather satchel. Bring the whole satchel here and a leaf of each of those plants that he planted on the front lawn.”

“Why?” John asked.

“I might be able to find out what’s going on.”

“How do you know this stuff, Ed?” Helen asked.

“Those hunting trips that Abe took me on,” Edmund explained, “weren’t exactly deer hunting trips. Speaking of which, John, how is it that you’ve come to be fluent in Enochian? Abe has studied it all his life and he still needs a key to cipher it from one language to the other.”

“What is Enochian?” Helen asked.

“It’s the language of angels,” Edmund answered. “Would you know anything about angels, John?”

“I’m going to get that satchel,” John responded. The question weighed heavy on his mind. He wasn’t sure if he knew the answer.

Chapter 3- Answered Prayers

It was a whirlwind marriage but Paul Wesson and Helen Summers were in love and there was a baby on the way. Paul had surprised her at her apartment nervously clutching to the velvet lined box in his pocket that carried the ring. When the proposal was made, Helen’s cheeks grew warm and pink as she threw herself into his arms screaming an excited yes. His heart swelled as she held his head in her hands and smiled at him and told him the news of a new arrival.

The ceremony was lavish and extravagant with all the pomp and circumstance of a royal wedding. Behind the church was a small courtyard strewn with white statues of saints and angels donated by promising members of the community. It was lush with greenery and cool no matter what time of the year it was. The garden was built as a meditative spot for retired clergy and those wishing to take a retreat from the hardships of everyday life. John walked about it hoping to clear what weighed heavily on his mind. A year should have been enough to get over an unrequited love. It should have been more than enough time, John thought to himself.

“Helen deserves to be happy,” John’s thoughts wandered restlessly in his mind. “I’d just be complicating things needlessly. I love her, but she can never know that.”

“Are you ready, John?” Paul asked smiling, nervousness in his eyes.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” John said adjusting his brother’s tie, “But I hope I shouldn’t be asking you the same questiong.”

“I love her,” Paul replied, “It’s just… Well, you know how I am with big crowds. I didn’t even know we had that much family.”

“Well, I said there was a buffet at the reception and random people started showing up.” The two shared a laugh. Paul took a deep breath and took his position by the altar. John nodded and flashed him a reassuring smile, hurting inside when Helen came to the entry way at the back of the church. It will never last; they’re rushing into things, some whispered. It’s true love, others would say.

The wedding ceremony proceeded without a hiccup save for some few stutters during the exchange of vows and a sweaty brow, both products of Paul. Everyone, including John, enjoyed themselves and lived in the moment that was supposed to be the first day of the rest of Helen and Paul’s happy life together. Even the priest who performed the ceremony, Father O’Quinn, was spotted at the celebration albeit for only a few moments. He disappeared with Edmund just shortly after the festivities began. By the end of the night all the guests went home fattened and drunk, the happily wed couple floated away to start a family, and John walked off quietly convincing himself that he was content to forever hold his peace.

The next day John decided that he needed more time alone away from work and civilization. He packed up his pickup truck and went camping buried in wilderness to hide away from the concrete jungle he called home. The air was sweet and fresh and invigorating. It was enough that a touch of sunlight was enough to energize him for the day. He slept better those first two nights than he had in almost two years. However, his subconscious was rudely interrupted on the third night of his trip.

John was sitting on the edge of a cliff staring out at the trees carpeting the expanse beneath him. The beams of light that showered from the sun massaged his shoulders and his face with a warmth so delicate he nearly wept. The feel of dried leaves and spongy moss beneath his feet comforted him. He could smell the pine and the wildflowers twirling around him. His smile slowly widened his face and it ached his cheeks. He had not had much practice in genuine smiles for some time.

There was a rustle in the bushes behind him. John looked and saw nothing, nobody. The rustle became a commotion and John looked again, still nothing. Probably some birds or maybe even a chipmunk, he told himself. But he sensed a presence behind him, a distinct presence of someone standing there as if he were in someone’s shadow. The only shadows on the ground were his and the trees.

“John,” a voice whispered in his ear, “John Wesson.” The sun grew warm behind him as if a fire gently tickled the back of his neck. He turned around and was bathed in a brilliant light.

“Who is that? Who’s there?”

“John. You’re dreaming,” the voice was gentle but intimidating. John looked around and somehow knew that he was indeed in a dream. “I am an Angel of the Lord, John. My name is Raphael.”

“Am I dying?”

“No, but I fear that someone close to you is dying already.”

“Who?”

“Your brother, Paul Wesson.”

“Bullshit. What are you doing here? Why don’t you go save him?”

“Because it’s already done. By the time you wake up, you have to turn on your phone.” Raphael knew that John kept one close by in case of an emergency. “The baby will be born in a few months, and something is coming for him.”

“Him? Not even the doctor can tell the gender of the baby; it’s too early. What the hell do you want from me?”

“I need your permission. I need to use your body as a vessel to protect that unborn child from the coming evil.”

“You need my permission?”

“An angel of heaven can only take control with consent. You will be completely prescient, I assure you. But I will be the one entirely in control.”

“Then, I’m going to say, ‘No!’”

“It is the only way to protect Helen and the baby. Only an angel will be equipped and strong enough for what’s to come.”

“I said, no.”

“We hear you, you know,” Raphael’s voice softened, “We know how much you cared for Helen Summers. We know how much you cared for your brother, Paul. Ideally, I should be the one protecting the child and his mother, using you as a vessel.”

“Isn’t there another way?”

“There is one option,” Raphael was hesitant to elaborate but continued anyway. “We can make you an angel.”

“Why don’t we do that?” John’s excitement couldn’t be contained. “I’ll have your abilities and I’ll still be me. That’s a good deal.”

“There is one catch,” Raphael added. “In order for you to become an angel I will have to wipe your memory of this conversation once you have awoken. And--”

“I don’t mind that at all!” John interjected.

“And! You will only receive the abilities that are necessary for the moment. They will come to you like flashes of a distant memory or some repressed instinctual reflex.”

“So, I won’t technically be an angel?”

“You will have the knowledge and abilities like anyone else in the Heavenly Hosts, but you’ll only be aware of certain ones that certain moments demand. I don’t have the ability to bestow full celestial grace on you until you make a great sacrifice. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Good. When you wake up, as we discussed, you won’t remember any of this. That is, unless, we meet again.”

“I understand.”

“Well, you will remember to do one thing.”

“What?”

“Turn on your cell phone, John.”

There was a flash of brilliant light like a bolt of lightning that left no burned scar of electricity nor made a crack of thunder. But it blew John’s body back away from it as his feet left the ground. He looked back and saw that he was falling off the cliff. The instant that gravity failed him, John awoke suddenly. He was in the middle of the woods cuddled warmly in his sleeping bag in the middle of the night. Something urged him to reach into his pack and turn on his cell phone. As the light flashed on, the phone chirped and vibrated in his hand.

“Hello?” he answered the phone.

“John?” a familiar voice responded.

“Helen, is that you?”

“Yeah,” her voice quivered, “I need you to come home. It’s about Paul.”

Chapter 4- A Break

The doorknob rattled in John’s hand. Rust made the hinges scream in as the door swung slowly open. John’s heavy boot dropped with a hollow thud onto the creaking hardwood floor of Abe’s house. The house, for the most part, was empty causing each footfall to echo throughout the stale air of the living room. Dust clung to the air floating in suspended limbo until it found its way onto the floor or the few sticks of furniture sprinkled around the place.

John reached to the wall closest to him in the hopes of finding a light switch. He flicked the witch on and a naked bulb struggled to emit what little light it could. The wall was covered with news clippings and messily scribbled notes, presumably Abe’s. In the corner was a worn out chair tucked besides a rickety old desk. John walked towards the desk and a loose floorboard rattled beneath his heel.

Bending down he pried open the loose plank and cautiously reached down into the darkness. The air beneath was cold and it felt as if John had dipped his hands into a puddle of ice. The corner of the leather satchel hit the heel of John’s hand as he waved around the cobwebs and dust. He yanked out the bag which was much heavier than it looked. Curiosity overwhelmed John’s usually steady hand and he attempted to take a peek inside the bag.

John found a small heavy box, two bottles, a small empty nylon bag, and a worn out leather bound notebook that he suspected to be Abe’s journal. He took out the notebook and found an insignia burned onto the front cover that resembled the Vatican Seal. Along the thick hard spine were the words, “Ordo Sphaerae Tertius.” The light flickered to a second life, burning just a bit brighter revealing the large corkboard on the wall immediately in front of John. Scattered about were pictures of various places that John and Helen had frequented since finding the house.

It became apparent that the snapshots tacked on the wall proved that Abe had been expecting Helen and John to move into the neighborhood for quite some time. On the top corner was a picture of Abe and Edmund smiling with exhausted eyes, both of them dressed in traditional cassocks. Behind the picture, Abe had written, “Where is Edmund?” John took this photo and stuffed in the journal along with a note with the names Asmodeus, Leviathan, and Berith written with question marks beside each name.

He packed the journal back into the satchel and pulled out the empty nylon bag with one hand, taking his Swiss Army knife with the other. He quietly closed the front door and knelt at the young garden in front cutting away a piece of each plant as Edmund requested. Neatly putting everything away, John took a deep breath and marched austerely back to the house.

“It was horrible,” Edmund was explaining how it felt to be possessed to Helen when John came in through the front door. “Imagine being tied down to the back seat of a car heading against oncoming traffic. I was totally aware of everything Asmodeus was doing, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I was totally helpless.”

“How long was that thing inside you?” John asked as he handed Edmund the leather satchel.

“I think it was about the time that Paul died. Its name is Asmodeus: an angel who was cast down from Heaven,” Edmund replied, averting eye contact. He emptied the contents onto the floor next to the fire. “Did you get those plants?” John handed him the small nylon bag and Edmund meticulously arranged everything in front of him. He picked up the journal and handed it to John. “Leaf through the pages of that and see if Abe found anything in that could help us.”

“From the looks of his place it looks like he’s been following Helen and me for a while,” John started superficially reading the first page of the journal. “You, on the other hand, he lost completely. He had no idea where you were until we got here yesterday.” He took out the photo of Edmund and Abe and tossed it to in front of Edmund’s face who paused to look at it nostalgically.

“What about this? Maybe this is the break we need,” John said as he pressed his finger on the page, “It’s about demonic and angelic possessions. According to this, demons can force themselves into the consciousness of humans while angels need the consent of the vessel.” John paused and reflected a moment as if the words had been spoken to him before. “That’s probably what happened to the neighbors.”

“What are you talking about?” Edmund asked.

“I was just joking, but it is a little strange that with all the screaming and struggling that no one’s come to our aid. Especially since we’re the new kids in town.”

“That is a little strange,” Edmund said with a degree of worry in his voice, “But I’d let it go for now. If everyone was possessed, they would have made their move by now.” John continued reading.

“It says here that there are exceptions to the rule that says humans have to give consent. ‘There have been cases in which angels resurrected a corpse and restored it to its original form for the sole purpose of possessing it.’ I guess, if the person’s dead, the whole consent deal gets thrown in a loophole. The other way involves a ritual with a blood sacrifice using the blood of someone with a close spiritual connection with the vessel.” John was amazed to see the organized detail in the journal.

“That’s what Asmodeus needed me alive for,” Edmund added. “I guess he can kill me now if he wanted to, now that I’m useless to him.”

“Maybe an angel raised me from the dead?” John wondered.

“Asmodeus was shocked to see you because you’re a new angel, not an old one in your body. That’s the only way to explain why you know what you know,” Edmund replied matter-of-factly. “The only problem is I have no idea which angel has Abe possessed and that could be a big problem.”

John continued to read and paused. He pretended to scan the pages when he realized that Edmund had avoided going into the details of his possession by Asmodeus. Edmund handed him the photo and asked him to tuck it back into the journal for Abe. John slid the photo inside the back cover and noticed Enochian writing on it. He read it to himself.

“A friend in the coroner’s office confirms Paul was poisoned which means it couldn’t be a demon,” it read. “I have performed all the precautionary tests and as much as I refuse to believe it, he was not possessed when the crime was committed. I knew he had his weaknesses but I would have never guessed that Edmund was capable of killing Paul Wesson.”

Click here to read "Part 3: Revelations"

Click here to read "Part 4: Endgame"