The Perfect Hit

Metal scraped as the door latch slid carefully into place. The brass knob at the end of the chain latch whizzed into place as the links swung carelessly back and forth. Dead bolt was turned. Another lock and yet another latch clicked the door shut. And for good measure, Dan Mockridge pushed the sofa in front of the door. There was only one window facing the open street and he avoided it at all costs, ducking beneath it to get to the tall dresser besides it. He pushed it, crawling on his hands and knees, so it covered the view of his apartment from outside.

Mr. Mockridge is a tall man and very lean. His legs are like springs which have grown slack over the years. Hair fell from his head as lifeless and wiry as his bony fingers. His nose is his most prominent feature and it’s no surprise as to why since, before the incident, he had grown accustomed to pointing it upwards at others. It’s unsure where this habit developed though theories are divided into two schools of thought. Physics would demand that the sheer size of the nasal protrusion he calls a nose that his head should be tilted back. But the more likely reason is that he had moved to Park Row via some high horse and had grown accustomed to the habit. This was an unadvisable personality trait to maintain in the neighborhood that he lived in.

When witnessing a robbery in progress he did not hesitate to call the cops and give the exact whereabouts of the perpetrator in question not to mention take full credit for the arrest in the local news. One might ask, “If Dan’s neighborhood is a haven for career criminals, why didn’t the alleged offender make any effort to conceal their identity?” The area that politicians and realtors currently call Park Row is a region of the city where the governing power does not wear a badge. A steady helping of fear keeps its inhabitants in line. Should any foolish person overstep those bounds, said person would immediately be made an example of.

Three hours after the arrest, a threatening note slid stealthily underneath the door of his dilapidated apartment that simply read, “Retribution’s a bitch!” At first, Mr. Mockridge paid no attention to it. In fact, he was quite impressed that the context and spelling of “Retribution” were both correct. When he walked down the street to the corner grocery store, he was met with hard looks and whispers by his neighbors. The farther he travelled from home the more threatening the stares and less inhibited the people were about brandishing their otherwise concealed weapons. Even a small boy looked at him and motioned to cut his throat. He barely reached the corner before he was drenched in sweat and turned around to run back to his one bedroom apartment.

With the windows and doors all boarded up, Dan cowered in the shadows scurrying across the floor as close to the ground as possible to get from room to room. His heart would forget to beat at the sound of a creaking floor. Footsteps outside in the hall sent shivers rippling up and down his spine. God help him should a car outside backfire. A rat scuttled within the walls, scratching the wood with its tiny paws, its fur rubbing against the interior drywall. The lack of good insulation just caused the ruckus to echo throughout the apartment. The rodent made a single sudden move that sent Mockridge leaping into the air and clinging to the light fixture. Perhaps the rat sensed one of its own in the vicinity. He hesitantly touched ground and slinked towards the phone.

“Yes, police?” his breath shuttered between his chattering teeth. “Someone is going to kill me. I just gave you a hardened criminal and now my life is in danger! Please, send someone right away!”

A truck rumbled past his apartment building and shook the structure to its foundations. Mockridge prayed that it was an earthquake come to kill him before some thug did the job. “If I am going to die before my time, I’d rather die a gentleman’s death rather than that at the hands of a common street hoodlum.” Even in the face of death he found a way to turn his nose up at the residents of Park Row. A heavy rapping at the door wasn’t enough to entice Dan to come out from underneath the bed.

“Who is it?” he yelled at the door standing proudly behind the sofa.

“Police, Mr. Mockridge!” the voice answered, “My name’s Officer Frank Boles. You called for us?”

“Yes,” Mockridge scrambled to his feet. “Can you get me out of this wretched town safely?”

“Yes, sir but we’re going to have to bring you in to the station to file some paper work.”

“That’s fine. I can stand to sign a few papers if you just get me out of this poor excuse for a neighborhood.” He shoved the sofa away and, one by one, clicked all the locks and safety latches open. The door squeaked as swung open to reveal two large men in dark blue uniforms standing impatiently looking into the apartment.

“This is my partner,” Boles introduced, “Officer Michael Wuertz.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Mockridge answered as he gathered himself and walked out of the apartment. “My, my; that was quite a quick response.”

“We happened to be in the neighborhood when we got the call,” Boles explained.

“How fortunate for me,” Mockridge commented, “And how unfortunate for you. Why would anybody want to be in this area? It’s absolutely dreadful.”

“Frank and I grew up here,” Wuertz’s grumbled with venom in his voice, “So If I was you, I’d best lay off the gutter talk until we get to the station.”

“’If I were you,’ Officer Wuertz,” Mockridge corrected. “Growing up in this awful place is no excuse for atrocious grammar.”

“What was that?” Wuertz nearly lunged at Mockridge. Boles held him back.

“Mr. Mockridge, we’re here to help you,” Boles attempted to quell the situation, “But you’re going to have to cooperate and do everything we tell you to do. With an attitude like that you’re an easy target. I know it’s a rough neighborhood but if you go around talking like that to everyone it’s no wonder you’ve become the perfect hit.”

“The perfect hit?” Mockridge asked.

“The boy you pinched was somebody’s younger brother,” Wuertz explained. “You put him in jail and until they fix to get him out, they put a bounty on your head. They want to make an example out of you. This neighborhood won’t stand for rats, not even hoity-toity ones like you.”

All three men walked out into the street. Mockridge made sure he was always within the shadow of Officer Boles and within grunting distance of Officer Wuertz. The cops walked with their broad shoulders up and above the cowering brow of Dan Mockridge. Wuertz approached the squad car and opened the door for Mockridge who slid into the rear seat nervously. Boles sat in the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared quietly.

“Do you mind if we make a quick stop before we get to the station?” Boles asked Mockridge. “If it’s any consolation, it’s not in Park Row.”

“Very well,” Mockridge answered looking cautiously out the rear window.

They drove to an empty lot shrouded in the shadows of skyscrapers that have long been abandoned by the people that once inhabited it. Once, the great edifices stood proudly in the sunlight as symbols of the economic powerhouse that was once the city’s reputation. Now, they crumble in the shadows of larger buildings; its concrete exterior seemed to cry with rust.

“Will we be long?” Mockridge asked.

“Not at all,” Boles answered.

“By the way,” Mockridge asked, “What was the name of the tyke, that scoundrel that I locked up? I hope they give him several years.”

“After what he did, he may get 3 to 5,” Wuertz answered.

“Splendid!” Mockridge answered. “And what was his name?”

“His name is Joseph,” Wuertz responded.

“Joseph. Did he have a last name?” Mockridge demanded to know for some reason.

“His name,” Officer Boles replied, “Was Joseph Francis Boles.”

As soon as the name leapt from Officer Boles’ lips, Mockridge turned in shock and saw not two officers or the dilapidated high rise around them. All he saw were the barrels of two 9mm handguns staring him right in the face. He didn’t hear anything after the brilliant white flash exploded a pink cloud where is head used to be. It smelled of gunpowder and bitter rust. Black red bits and fat gray chunks of brain matter created a collage against the rear window sprinkled with fractures of skull. After that day, the air in Park Row was much clearer especially without the nose of Dan Mockridge taking up all that space anymore.

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"