Hopes and the Damned
Jim Brown
White doves floated in a bright blue sky, circling above a green grove of large leafy trees. A creek ambled by, adding the sounds of tiny waterfalls. A group of people picnicked in a meadow at the center of the grove. This gathering included what seemed to be every race of humanity residing on the Earth. Ages varied from just old enough to be out and about to what looked to be over a hundred. Laughter and love floated in the air not unlike the doves above.
He wanted to join them, but couldn't. He was a watcher to this wonder, a voyeur to this joy. This then, he deduced, must be a dream.
From the distance came a low rumble as storm clouds appeared on the horizon. The laughter disappeared. Within seconds, black clouds covered the sky. Doves began falling to the ground, singed black and smoking. Everyone bolted for the cover of the trees but never made it. Chains with sharp hooks shot out of the sky and caught the crowd, yanking them one by one into the sudden night. The creek turned red as a rain of blood fell on the meadow. The sound of waterfalls was drowned out by screams from above.
Two were spared. The oldest and the youngest. The oldest cackled a laugh so shrill that the baby's ears bled. The baby's cries could not be heard.
The dreamer suddenly found himself at the baby's side. It was no longer crying and instead smiled as blood spattered its face. Its eyes were black as night and it turned its head towards him. He noticed a very ornate lacquered box, sitting on the blanket covering the baby. The old man stopped his laughing and spoke, pointing at the sky.
"Look at that, child! All of them! Gone to Hell's Heaven! You are the way! Oh yes! You are the way!"
The dreamer heard bells chiming and felt a gust of cold air hit the back of his neck. He instinctively turned to see the source.
A church was on the other side of the creek, its doors open wide. The cross on its steeple was on fire. The ground began to shake violently and he noticed that the church was sinking. In it, he saw a bearded man in robes falling against one of the pews. This man looked out at them and started to yell.
"In my Father's name, I cast thee...".
The doorway to the church disappeared beneath the earth, muffling the rest of the sentence. Within seconds, the church was underground. The cross was the last to go, making a popping, crackling sound as it went.
The dreamer felt the stares of the baby and the old man. He heard the old man take in a deep raspy breath, then...
"Wake up!"
Andrew Riest awoke to the ringing of his phone. He felt disoriented for a good three rings as the dream seemed to call at him. It took two more rings for him to pull himself out of bed and get to the phone, the experience becoming more forgotten by the second. If one rehearsed a dream, Andrew knew, a person would be more apt to retain it. No rehearsals today.
"Dr. Riest?" Said a gruff voice, sounding far too alert for 3:13 a.m..
"Yeah." came the reply wrapped in a yawn.
"Could you please... come down to the Willowby Building? We have a... major situation down here... and I'm afraid... well... um... Just get over here, will ya?"
That was Sheriff Tom Burke. This must be something really bad, thought Andrew. Tom was rarely bothered by anything. It was said that he shed one tear at his parent's funeral, probably the only tear he would ever make. Whatever could make that man fumble, thought Andrew, would make most people crazy.
"Sure Tom. I'll be right there. Are you okay?" asked Andrew.
There was a few seconds of silence, followed by a cough. Then, "No. Don't suppose I am. See you in a bit."
The line went dead. Then came two things, the dial tone and a dread the likes of which the twenty six year old doctor had never known.
The dream was all but gone now.
He began dressing, thinking of what he would need. The medical bag had most of his tools in it and whatever ambulance showed up would no doubt have the rest. He would make sure to grab a soothing CD on the way out. This would allow him to get his mind in the right frame before arriving on whatever terrible scene awaited him.
This new soul was now ready for Leviathan's consumption, thought the Cenobite. He had tortured the soul's flesh until it was just about to cross over into madness. Easing up on the barrage of sweet pain just enough to hold the soul in limbo, he thought of the skill he had acquired through the dark decades since he himself was converted.
The task of balancing a soul on the brink of madness was only for the most experienced of Cenobites. A little too much and the subject would escape into madness. This would bring dire consequences for the only way to bring a soul back was to administer the kind of pleasure that brought Leviathan pain: the pleasure known as Joy. Not a smart thing to do. Typically, the privilege of serving the Great One was taken away. A Cenobite would be stripped of scars and power and forced to be nothing more than a subject, a definite step backwards. Conversely, if not enough pain was administered, the subject would begin to build defenses against the pain. The more defenses built, the finer the line to madness was, which increased the chances of demotion.
As he adjusted one of the long pins that had been driven into his flesh long ago, he became aware of the human soul buried within him, squirming to break free. The adjustment was for that soul. It had cost him his chance to establish a dominion on Earth, something for which there was eternity to exact revenge. Leviathan tolerated these ambitions, he guessed, because such endeavors typically meant more souls. There had certainly been a bounty culled from the Cenobite's attempt to leave.
At that moment, he felt the call. The room he was in began to shudder as if a great beast was chewing on it. One of the walls began to darken. Then a large part of the wall seemed to dissolve as the chewing sound became a deafening roar. He instinctively eased up on the pain to the victim. The direct attention of the Lord of Hell would threaten anyone's grip on reality. The new acquisition would no doubt be absorbed into the puzzle box God, and it was important to make the transition as painful as madness would allow.
A great black beam shone into the room, encasing the flesh of the subject (even the scraps on the floor) in a bubble of darkness. The bubble lifted up and floated through the wall, picking up speed as it went. The Cenobite could not see Leviathan, but there was no mistaking its presence. As the bubble passed through the wall, the wall slowly regained solidity. The roaring and the beam faded away and as the wall remade itself whole, the room settled down. The whine of a high pitched wind and chains clanging and rattling was all that remained to keep the demon company. His newly anointed assistants were busy with their own subjects. Four souls had been brought to Hell. The Twins took two. One went to the Princess and the last offered to Leviathan.
The Cenobite knew there would be no thanks. None were necessary. He simply did what he was created for. That was all. The newly absorbed soul would be frozen in that last moment before the darkness surrounded it, exuding extreme terror and suffering for as long as Leviathan contained it.
Once again, the angel of pain had justified his existence. It was now time to check in on his troops.
Andrew barely missed the deer that bolted across the road in front of him. The car came to screeching halt sideways in the road. He was just about to cross the Bethany Creek bridge. Now he was parallel to the river and in his headlights, he could see the deer run down the bank of the creek. It splashed through the water as it made its way to the other side, its white tail bouncing like a ball. Just before it reached the bank, it suddenly stopped and turned to look at him. its eyes glowed bright as they reflected the headlights. The deer sniffed the air. Andrew felt a chill as his imagination played a nasty trick on him and suggested it was talking, warning him of a coming terror. It then turned away and bounded up the bank and was gone.
Andrew pulled himself together and got his car going again. He was now quite awake and scanned the street sides much more carefully as he went. He noticed that a lot of people were out in their yards and on the sidewalks. How they stared at him as he drove by! Their expressions made him feel like the only entry in some dark parade of doom. Their apprehension couldn't have been more visible if they had painted it on big glow-in-the-dark banners and waved them at him.
The Willowby Building was around the next left and then the right after that, up on Thompson Hill. Andrew recalled the story of the miser, 'Old John' Thompson, who had built the place and had supposedly given it to the town on his deathbed, with the catch that it only be used to house the poor. His request was honored and fourteen years later, it still housed the town's down and out. All utilities were covered by the old man's trust fund as well as upkeep on the place. There were currently twelve people living there: a husband, wife, and their two children; two very old ladies, each without a family; a war vet who'd seen saner days; and five siblings who'd been abandoned a few years back. They had appeared at one of the local bars on Halloween night (the eldest, Joleen, turned eighteen two days later, was appointed guardian of her younger siblings and given a job at the feed mill). The four minors had recently began causing trouble in town and by all accounts, seemed to have fallen in with some bad, out of town elements.
Andrew saw bright colored lights at the top of the hill as he made the last turn. This wasn't the first time he'd made this trip. Two people passed away in that place since he came to town last year (both from poor health and self neglect) and he wondered how many would be added to the toll tonight. He pulled his car over out of the way and got out. As he ran to the building, he got his answer. All four of Joleen's siblings. This information came from Mrs. Batesley, the town snoop. He barely caught an 'I told you so' as he came into the front yard of the place. Sheriff Burke was at the front door, holding Joleen who sobbed uncontrollably. Andrew couldn't see any of the other tenants. Tom looked up from Joleen and noticed Andrew. He gently steered Joleen towards a man in white, who escorted her away from the scene. The sheriff met Andrew halfway down the eight or nine steps to the front door.
"Hey there, Andrew." Tom said as he wiped Joleen's tears off of his badge, trying not to be obvious about it.
"Sheriff." said the young doctor, trying hard to not let his fear show. The sense of dread had been multiplying the closer he got to the place. Then, "What's going on?"
"All four of Joleen's siblings seem to have been... butchered." The word hung on the air like a cloud.
"How? By who?"
The sheriff started up the stairs and motioned for Andrew to follow. They passed through the front door and once inside, Tom turned and spoke in a low voice just loud enough for Andrew to hear.
"That's the weird part. We have no idea. The room the kids were in is covered in blood. That room has one window and it is still locked from the inside. The door itself wasn't locked but as I opened it, I noticed the chain was. There is no way someone could have gotten out of that room after killing everyone in it. It's as if the killer disappeared altogether. All four kids were seen going into the building at the same time and we can't find them anywhere else."
"Bodies?" asked Andrew.
"Even weirder. There are none."
The next thought in Andrew's mind was that the kids pulled some elaborate prank but the sheriff's next statement brought that thought to an end.
"We thought it might be a nasty joke on their part, but those people who were in the building and can still talk intelligently claim the screams definitely came from the room. The stereo in there was off when we found it and there was no other way sound could have been piped in. They were killed and then somehow both them and the killer disappeared. I've thought of every possible angle and none of them fits the facts. We're looking at some kind of wicked mystery here, Andrew." The sheriff actually looked scared. This made the whole thing even more unnerving.
"What can I do?" asked Andrew, trying even harder to be professional.
"Well, I thought I might have some bodies or possibly patients for you here. I called once I was sure the killer wasn't here. But like I said, no kids. Everybody else is off to the hospital. I can't actually let you into the room but I can get you close. Wanna see it?"
Are you nuts?! thought Andrew. "Yes" is what came out.
At this the sheriff turned and led Andrew up the long stairs to the second floor. At the top he motioned to the left down the hallway. There were two officers at the other end of the hallway, going in and out of rooms. Andrew noticed a pool of blood on the floor in front of one of the open doors. He walked to the room's door and peered inside.
Blood everywhere. On the walls, on the four beds against them, the dressers, the ceiling and most definitely the floor. Everywhere in there, blood.
Andrew felt disappointed in himself and like many times before, doubted his sensibilities. This was because he felt absolutely no fear anymore, now that he was actually looking at the scene of the crime. He actually found himself fascinated by the patterns made by the splattered blood. This behavior certainly helped him in his chosen field, but it was downright distressing in this extreme. Can nothing get to me? he thought. A thought popped into his head that he'd been trying to keep deep inside.
He himself had lived in a place similar to this for a while, but it was actually an orphanage. His mother had given birth and a name to him and then died. Years later he used his influence as a doctor to gain access to the records kept on them and found out the truth, or at least some of it.
Then he noticed the glint of something shiny under one of the beds.
"See that?", asked Andrew.
The sheriff said he didn't, but obviously believed Andrew. He stepped into the room onto a spot on the floor that wasn't covered in blood. There were spots like that in various places and it was possible to negotiate most of the room without getting any fluids on oneself. Andrew pointed to a blanket hung over the bed next to the left wall and the sheriff maneuvered himself around so he could see under the bed.
"Some kind of box. Looks like it's made of wood and metal. We don't dare disturb it, but I'll definitely let the feds know."
This brought back more memories. He knew his mother had lost her mind before his birth and had to be watched all the way to the end of the term. She claimed she had solved some kind of puzzle box that guaranteed Heaven and actually went there. She had been blind all her life and was given the gift of sight by an angel of pain, what others would call a demon. She then did something no one else dared. She instantly fell in love and forced herself on him. He had been surprised by not only her lack of fear, but her utter adoration of him. He gouged her eyes back out with his thumbs and shoved her back through the portal she had opened. She tried to find the box but it was gone. She was now trapped here with no way to get back to her professed true love, the only sight she would ever see. As it turns out, she was pregnant. It said in the records that she agreed to hold on until the child was born and would then die after giving it an appropriate name.
The name he got was yet another mystery, Andrew Clayton Riest. Her name was actually Bonnie Lynn Henderson. He could find no local references to Riest as a last name but she claimed that indeed that was the father's last name.
As he thought about this, he remembered Tom's statement about the feds.
As if on cue, he noticed a group of suits and uniforms rounding the corner at the top of the stairs and coming towards him. One of the men motioned Andrew towards the stairs. He complied and glanced back as he walked away from the room.
Andrew overheard the sheriff telling one of the newcomers about the shiny box. This individual quickly walked to the room, slipped some plastic bags over her black shiny shoes, pulled some rubber gloves out of her pocket, put them on, and immediately disappeared into the room. Thirty or so seconds later, she reappeared, holding the box. Andrew caught only a slight glimpse but enough to see some kind of pattern etched on it.
It then hit him like brick. It was the box from the dream this morning and it also fit his mother's description of her box as well. Again, the feeling of dread.
The federal agent headed for the stairs, wrapping the box in some kind of cloth. As she was about to pass by Andrew at top of the stairs, she fumbled her parcel. Andrew wasn't sure, but it seemed the box jumped out of the woman's hand right at him. Andrew caught the shiny box with both hands in a kind of cradle grip.
The first thing Andrew felt was a massive jolt, as if he stuck his entire hand into a light socket.
The next thing he felt was a surge of knowledge; knowledge of everyone's deepest fears and hopes. This was initially limited to the people in the building and the yard outside, but it was expanding outward through the town. Within a few seconds, he knew every deep dark secret of everyone within the town limits and a few surrounding farms.
He also felt a chill at the edges of his consciousness. He could sense something was terribly wrong with the world. No, that wasn't it. Something within the world, yet somehow removed from it. A sense of overpowering suffering seemed to nip at his mind, begging him to think it into existence. The hair on the back of his neck seemed to almost jump off of his body, such was the severity of it.
He tried hard to think of nothing. Absolutely nothing, but the world wanted in. He then noticed his eyes were shut and tightly so. He started to open them but there came light so bright that it was painful. His ears were then bombarded by a roar so loud it almost drowned him with its fury. During this, his nerve endings started burning. He felt as if someone had placed him in a red hot furnace, baking him with a fire strong enough to melt metal. He wanted to scream but his jaws and tongue screamed back a resounding 'No!'
He thought about his apartment and how much he would like to pull the pillow on his bed over his head, but that thought disappeared in the storm of sensations. He felt the first pangs of madness and the sensory flood eased up and then fell away. He opened his eyes slowly as the roar died out. He began to see colors and solid dark shapes moving by him to his left and right. This puzzled him. He could sense he was moving, but if he was in the building, he should see the walls.
Everything began to come into focus and the shapes slowed their passage. As they solidified, they came to a stop.
The shapes were the buildings and cars which lined the street he had just driven through a little bit ago. He noticed that the sun was out and it looked as if it was late in the morning.
This can't be, he thought. What's happened to me? No answer. Then, six hundred and fifty three answers. All fueled by fear. All showing the same scene. Some were fuzzy because those minds were imagining what had happened based on what they were told. There were reporters here with their skeptical eyes. There were protectors of the peace; the FBI, CIA, etc.. Everyone who was anyone was on their way. A miracle some said. A savior, some cried. Others, a devil.
He then got a basic understanding of what transpired from what their minds painted. When the box had fallen/leapt into his hands, he had burst into bright light. He had stood there for a few minutes, then had lifted off the floor and floated down the stairs, out the front door and through the yard. He had floated down the hill toward the center of town where he was now. It had taken six hours to do this, with the media buzzing the town like wasps. The National Guard were on the way to secure the area. Everyone who got within a few feet of him got dizzy and passed out. Sheriff Burke and his officers, as well as the suits, were all recovering nearby. This he got from all the minds around him, each lacing it with their own take, but the essential facts were the same.
One mind stood out among the rest. A mind with knowledge of a world beyond ours and in it. A mind as sharp as a surgical saw, but with a heart as empty as a vacuum. Empty of all compassion, all warmth, all love. It was a servant and guardian, a taker and giver, a demon on a long leash. It was the puzzle box's keeper and the box was a doorway to Hell.
...and who is this? Why are they on this side? They've the gift of reshaping and yet do not use it on the flesh near them. Is this a test? Has my usefulness ended? ...and is this the replacement? Has there been a change in Hell that I am not allowed to know? I gaze homeward and all seems fine. The suffering crests an all time high. New souls go daily through many, many doorways.
Mine is the honor of serving the greatest of all, LeMarchand's Configuration. That name was Hell's sustenance for centuries. There were other configurations, but none as pure. It breathes of Hell's power. From one's hands to another's lap to another's bosom to another's hands. And I, its sail. The winds of desire and damnation carry us further on.
Leviathan, the one who was without form but whose form was Hell, fulfilled the Configuration's dream for a likeness in order to open the door wider. A new doorway for the unschooled, the lazy, the low. Flesh being flesh, it is permissible...
Why is this one floating? He traveled, in a trance, from the place of the opening to the middle of this village. He has come to a stop and has dimmed from the glorious white of hellfire. He senses me. My mind is open to him. How did he get over here and why hasn't he been recalled for more training? He is not using his power in the way it was intended.
Ah. Mine is the task to oppose him. He has the Configuration. I must bury my true plan under layers of false routes. He seems new to the game of the reading. Here is the advantage and the way. A victory.
The Cenobite stopped at the doorway to the room that The Twins were in. He sensed an old wind blowing from the past and remembered his decision to let a woman have him in passion. He also remembered planting his seed in her, with the instructions to not devour hers, but to give her seed the powers he had. He had programmed the awakening to occur during any contact with any Configuration. The seed would then be able to open a doorway at will. Leviathan wasn't aware of this part of the plan. When the Cenobite faced judgment for pushing the woman back through, he had told the god that '...To inflict great suffering, Lord, one must know great suffering.' Leviathan had believed him, forgiven him and set him high in Hell's hierarchy. Now, all that was needed was to wait. It now looked like the waiting was soon to be over. Still, he had duties to perform. He stepped through the doorway to the Twins room.
Two teenagers hung in the middle of the room. Their limbs were interwoven in a nearly impossible fashion with parts of them pierced by chains coming from the walls and ceiling. Each little movement by one of them caused the other great pain and the subsequent reaction caused the initial mover even more. Their flailing came in waves as did their agonized screams.
Excellent, thought the maker of the Twins.
The Twins had stumbled onto him and the Princess as they were debating on how to bring about the end of the LeMarchand line (presently known as Merchant). He had twisted the Twins together into a Siamese bond (this choice affected their choices in torture as well). The LeMarchand line had survived that day and looked to continue on. One day, the Cenobite knew, he would meet that bloodline again, and next time it would be the end of it.
He turned back to the hallway. His non-involvement in the Twins play was enough for them to know that their actions were satisfactory.
As he made his way to the Princess's area, he thought of Hell's future. its god was growing more powerful every time someone came through the portal. It had souls from a thousand dimensions and had spread its presence into a few of them. It was said that each type of being saw Leviathan in a different way. Those from Earth saw it as a massive puzzle box. Those from elsewhere saw it as a massive tree, or a cloud, or an eye. The interpretations of Leviathan were endless, and so were those of Hell itself. This was Heaven, or a place visited during sleep, or a place of some beings' true birth, the world behind being no more than a cocoon.
In addition, beings that came over had different traits here. For instance, Humans were mortal on Earth but were immortal here and any power they had was buried deep in areas of their brains which, as of yet, were dormant. Not all of them had this buried power though, and the ones who didn't became nothing more than playthings. Leviathan had found a way to awaken the abilities of those who had the buried potential and hence, the Cenobites.
He heard a long loud scream coming from the room the Princess used. What sweet suffering had she pulled from the fourth of the children? He would soon know...
Andrew floated down and settled to the ground. The box he now held was the way for him to flesh out the demon that traveled on this side of Hell. It would have no choice but to come for it. He had read the demon's deeper intentions without it knowing. This creature was definitely going to be honored. It would be the first to fall.
Andrew started walking back towards the hill, a crowd awaited him. He gave them the warmest smile he could. When he got to within fifty feet of them, he stopped. The demon was amongst them.
"Please do not fear me," he said. "I have been blessed with a great gift. This box I hold is a doorway for evil. It jumped into my hand and woke a part of me that had been dormant. I now have what would be best described as telekinetic powers... I can manipulate matter with my thoughts." The demon would be making a move soon, he could sense it. "Among you is a demon, sent to watch this box. This demon won't hurt you. It is bound by laws older than time to not directly cause injury to any human or it forfeits its right to be here. It would then be pulled back into Hell and the box would go unguarded."
It was then that a raggedly dressed man with unkempt hair and an even more unkempt beard stepped through the crowd. He moved swiftly towards Andrew, his arms outstretched.
The federal agent who had originally picked up the box also broke from the crowd, her eyes fixed on the man coming towards Andrew. She drew her gun and pointed it at the man and yelled for him to stop. The man kept coming and Andrew knew it was now or never.
She pulled the trigger, and as Andrew expected, the bullet came at him and not the bearded man.
The bullet stopped in mid-air two feet from Andrew's face and dropped to the ground. At the same time, the bearded man also dropped, hiding his head under his hands and sobbing loudly. Repeating the word 'incoming' over and over again.
Andrew held out his hand and beams of light shot from ends of his fingers and struck the woman with the gun full in the face. There was look of surprise on her face and then she changed shape into a skeleton with horns, fangs, and wings as a grid of light encased her... it. The keeper let out a ear piercing roar and in a flash of bright light, disappeared, its scream echoing through the town.
He stood there and stared at his hand. What he did to the keeper just... happened. It seemed completely natural to him, as if he had been doing this sort of thing all his life. But he hadn't, had he? He was unsure. As a doctor, he had repaired flesh and started the healing process in order to...
Flesh?!
He realized he was thinking of the people he had healed as mere flesh. This is not good, he thought as he let his hand drop to his side. Something was happening to him. Something was trying to take over his mind. He suddenly began to feel that destroying the keeper was wrong.
No! It was right to do so! Flesh must be protected! No. Wait. Not just flesh... People. People with souls, dreams, ambitions... People with hope...
He had just begun to feel exhilaration at the power he had. Not anymore. He was changing. The power was changing him. Into what, he wasn't sure, but if these thoughts he now had were any indication, it wasn't good.
The scraggly man jumped up and started backing away, looking at Andrew with an expression of intense fear.
"What is it?" asked Andrew.
"You're... you're... pulsing!" the man replied, and continued to move back, whatever memory the man had just been reliving was once again forgotten.
The crowd started murmuring and also began to move back. Andrew looked down at himself and noticed his hands and arms were indeed pulsing. And they were pulsing with light. The light seemed to be in his veins and arteries. Every beat of his heart caused them to light up, bright enough to be seen through his skin. He ran his left hand over the palm side of the opposite wrist, where the blood vessels were closest to the surface. He felt his pulse. Normal beat. This meant something solid was moving through his veins and arteries. Something solid and it was glowing.
Then the truth about the keeper surfaced in his mind. He hadn't destroyed it, he had absorbed it. It was the demons life force that pulsed through his veins, and it was the demon's mind that was trying to take him over. Now that he was aware of it, he stopped it. It was still in there but powerless. The keeper's thoughts were but a faint whispering in the back of his mind, and he ignored it. The light show also stopped.
He wondered if he now possessed the keeper's ability to change. He imagined he had wings and tried his best to believe it. He then felt a sharp sting on his back and a sudden pull as if something had grabbed his shoulders and pulled them back hard. He turned his head and looked over his shoulder. Andrew now indeed had wings and strangely enough, they felt normal there. Once again, the strange and bizarre changes in him somehow felt perfectly natural. Could this be why blood and gore and death didn't shake him? It made sense now. How could a body's exposed inner workings compare to a body's reshaping? Thinking of that reshaping, he tried and found he could move his new wings. He tensed his back muscles and the tips of the wings appeared in his peripheral vision, black and leathery. He also lifted off the ground a couple inches and dropped back down.
Incredible!, he thought. He could be whatever he wanted! He flapped his wings a few times, which brought him five feet up in the air. He flapped just enough to stay aloft and hovered there.
Andrew looked at the people still moving away from him. He moved towards them slowly.
"I won't harm you. It's still me, Dr. Riest. I've just... well... changed some. Believe me, I have no intention of hurting..."
Something went wrong. He felt a pull. Not like the pull on his back, it was as if something was tugging at his very essence. It was the chill he had felt when he first got his powers. Hell was calling. It wanted him and it wanted him badly. There was no denying it. He could feel his world begin to slip away, being inexorably replaced by the place which had given him his powers.
He saw a bright light and all at once, his world slipped away entirely.
He was in some kind of room, floating a foot or so from a wall. He spun around in mid-air, the use of his wings becoming more familiar by the moment. He heard something whistling through the air as he read the minds of the two beings in it. A sharp, long spike stopped and floated inches from his face and, like the bullet from a few minutes ago, harmlessly dropped to the ground.
The one who threw the spike was Angelique, a princess from ages past, remade by Hell into a princess of pain. The other in the room was her victim, one of Joleen's siblings, a girl by the name of Rebecca. He felt Angelique's mind probing his own and given enough time, she might be able to find a way in. Andrew had no intention of giving her that time.
He grabbed the spike and threw it straight at Angelique. Using his new found abilities, he caused it to change course at the last second and slip by her upraised hand. It then struck her full in the chest. She fell back, letting out a surprised scream as she did so.
His attention quickly turned to young Rebecca, who was hanging in the center of the room and whimpering. He spent no time cataloging what had been done to her, he simply undid it all. He was aware of chains and pieces of broken glass falling to the floor, and her scream. He then felt a presence in the hallway outside, a presence that sent a chill down his spine. Whoever, or whatever was out there, he was not yet ready to face it, so he grabbed Rebecca, screams and all, and thought of his pillow.
A bright blinding light once again blasted his eyes.
He found himself in his room. He looked down and in his arms he held Rebecca. She was healing rapidly, the wounds and scars disappearing in moments. He definitely had the healing touch. He wondered if he could heal the other wounds she had; the ones no bandage could reach. Maybe later. Right now he needed to rescue her siblings. Her mind revealed details that might help him. She had seen two of her brothers dragged into a room not far from her. This was encouraging.
He set her down once her physical damage was healed and concentrated on the room where her brothers might be. The bright light came sooner than he expected and he almost wasn't ready.
As before, he had a moment to assess the situation and act. This time was different in that he didn't waste time with whatever demon was appointed to torture the two boys. He simply dove at them and when he made contact, he again thought of that comfortable pillow of his. He would undo the mechanisms of their torture when he got back. The world was all light and again he was in his room, Rebecca on the floor.
He unwound the two boys, Jonathan and Nathaniel, from each other and healed them as best he could. While he did so, he probed all three of the children's minds for clues as to the fate of the fourth child, Thomas. All he could get was that a Cenobite with pins in his head took him to another room and later, a great roaring sound had been heard from that direction. The rooms themselves had shaken as if a hurricane were just outside. More disturbing than that was the remembered feeling of hopelessness that seemed to increase with the proximity of the perceived storm. The Cenobites had all stopped their tortures, kneeled to the ground, and not moved until the sound had faded away.
Andrew had enough pieces to guess at what had happened. Thomas had been fed to whatever power controlled Hell. He was for most part, unreachable.
The fact that he got three of the four out of there was a miracle in itself. He tried to feel good about that, but it was difficult. Thomas had been the youngest, merely ten. For that alone, Andrew thought, that power deserved to be destroyed.
He realized at that moment that the life he lived was over. He was no longer a small town doctor, fighting the ailments and sicknesses of a few hundred people. He was now an inter-dimensional traveler about to embark on a quest to destroy a god. If that wasn't a major career change, nothing was. He laughed out loud at the absurdity of this. While he laughed, he thought of the horrors he had seen and the horrors he was about to expose himself to. His laughs threatened to change to tears, so he stopped. He knew he could walk away from the challenge, use his powers on this side only and let the damned be damned, but there was Thomas and who knows how many others. Perhaps the boy wasn't innocent, but he certainly wasn't deserving of hopeless damnation. The memories of the children attested to this. Thomas went along with the others out of trust, not out of hatred or lust or envy. The boy needed saving and Andrew had the best chance of doing so. There was no time to waste.
He dropped the three children off at the hospital, altering his appearance so none would recognize him. He also took the chance to slip a note into the administrator's office, explaining that there was a life and death situation needing his full and immediate attention which he couldn't discuss with anyone. Once that was done, he took to the sky and circled the town to get a better feel of where to go. A new keeper for the box had apparently shown up and had swept the box away. That's where he would start, the acquisition of the box. His senses were getting even better now and he could feel which direction the box was. He went to his apartment one last time, took only what he needed, and flew out of town.
Clouds floated peacefully above the world and all of its turmoil. Since before life appeared on the surface of this muddy rock, clouds had lived their lives in the air. They played games of shape, forming and reforming, imitating the things below. Clouds controlled weather patterns in a fashion that even the smartest beasts could not grasp. The atmosphere was their ocean, and they swam from one end of their lives to the other.
They made love without shame or reserve, their children floated off, billowing across the heavens. Those children later rejoined their parents as they prepared for the Storm: the time when clouds lost control of their lives and were taken over by the dirt below. The dirt, combined with the clouds, became the beasts and plants that roamed this world. As those beings fell and rotted away, the clouds would be reincarnated. Again floating, they shared stories of the lives they’d lived (or touched). It was one of the many, near perfect, cycles of the universe, and like many of these cycles, was unknown to the ‘sentient’ beings who probed that universe.
It was well known in the cloud community that the surest way to depress, tease, or irritate most of those beasts below was to block their view of the sky. It was also an old favorite to move in the way of the beasts who stared through long tubes. The beast would then look up at the cloud, frustrated that it was not able to probe those imagined wonders out in space, not realizing that one of the greatest wonders it could ever know just floated right into view.
The clouds also noticed that great steps had been taken in order to learn how to predict them. Those beasts had no clue that they were not just guessing at wind patterns and lay of the land effects on it, but instead were trying to guess at the behaviors of beings that thrived on variety and change.
Then one day, a cry of alarm shot through the clouds. Apparently, one of the smooth-skinned apes from below had discovered the Shaping. As the beast flew through and above the clouds, it touched them and sent shock waves through their numbers as it changed forms, experimenting with its powers. If one beast could do it, it wouldn’t be long before the rest would too.
Many meetings took place and many Storms ensued. It was a frightening time to be a cloud. An attempt was made to knock the beast out of the sky, but the beast never even realized the threat as it deftly flew out of harm’s way. The chance of being discovered was too great a risk, so it was agreed that all actions would be reduced to ‘float with the flow’. After all, they’d been hiding in plain sight for eons, and when all else failed, it was best to follow one’s instincts.
Let the beast play, thought the clouds, if it hand’t realized the truth when it touched them, it was likely it never would.
Andrew flapped his wings a bit faster and rose quickly. He kept at it until he sensed the thinning of the air. He then let himself soar, expanding his wingspan so that he fell only a few inches for every mile he flew. After a short time this got boring, so he collected his wings about himself, tucked his knees into his chest and allowed himself to fall like a bowling ball. Just as he was about hit the top of the clouds, he flung out his arms, legs and wings and did a swooping pass a few feet above them. With the force of his momentum, he then shot straight up as high as he could, laughing the whole time. As he reached the apex of his climb, he began to flap again.
He wished that he could stay like this forever; flapping and falling, rising and flying. The years he had spent locked to the land would be much better as a distant, unwanted memory. This was the life. If only he could stay up here. If only he could enjoy his luck instead of pushing it. If only…
He let himself enjoy this aimless flying (and aimless thinking) for a few more minutes before allowing the reality of his mission to reenter his world. He had these powers, this gift, not from luck, or from some jolly well-wishing deity who wanted only the best for its recipient, but instead for the purpose of spreading pain. He was a pawn in a diabolical scheme. A pawn that was moving it’s way about the board; flitting and scheming on its own. A pawn after no less then checkmate.
He had experimented with reshaping his body to provide himself better camouflage. First he had tried to elongate a finger, (he also disabled the nerves so he wouldn’t feel the pain of reshaping). He extended the tip about an inch and then put it back to its original state. He reactivated the nerves. No pain. He extended it a foot, borrowing flesh from the rest of the finger and his hand. He then put it back. This went fine. Considering he did this while flying meant he should have no trouble doing this in an emergency.
The next thing he had tried was adding more flesh to his body. Andrew tried to absorb his clothes and shoes and found he couldn’t. Flesh manipulation seemed to be his limit.
As his wing muscles grew tired, he tried reabsorbing them and creating new muscles. This worked. He also found he could render the changes quicker with practice. He still needed to get new material into himself regularly, but over the two days he had been traveling he had ‘optimized’ his body to the point to where he could get by on an apple a day and a half of a glass of water. He did, however, encounter a very rough storm the evening before, and had burned up a lot of energy making his way through it. He had needed two apples this morning and three glasses of water. Still, that wasn’t too bad considering all the effort he had put out to stay aloft in the tumult. Not only that, this honing of his skills would definitely come in handy in his endeavors.
Endeavors, indeed!, he thought to himself. More like impossibilities.
Andrew chided himself for his negative thinking and then made sure this wasn’t being whispered in his mind by the demon he had absorbed. The demon was quiet for now, no doubt scheming and trying to find a way to break into conscious control of its jailer. Andrew let out a great laugh and forced himself to feel as if the world was a wonderful, loving place, only thinking of the good things he knew. This adjustment was for that demon. He had realized that it was the demon who first forced him to go to Hell. It had found his ability to open the doorway to Hell before he did and had ‘activated’ it, trying to return home.
Andrew considered figuring out a way to destroy the demon, but decided against it out of fear that his shape-shifting ability was the result of the demon’s presence in him. His mind reading ability was his own, that much he knew, but the shape-shifting was in question. He would keep the demon… alive, if that was what it was… for as long as he could control it. The demon had thought out loud that Andrew had the ‘gift of re-shaping’, but there were many contradictory statements in the demon’s mind. These were meant to confuse Andrew, of course, but he had sorted through the best of the lies, but this one eluded him.
He was learning more about the demon all the time, as his sub-conscious attacked the demons mind, sifting for clues. One recent discovery was that it was actually referred to as a ‘guardian’ and not a ‘keeper’. Although this distinction wasn’t really important in the grand scheme, it was enough to make Andrew doubt some of his information.
He then sensed the box a few miles ahead, down below the clouds. After spending a minute or two looking for good sized break in the clouds (it wouldn’t be very helpful to his mission to enter the clouds and end up a bloody pulp on some pilot’s windshield) he quickly dropped through the cloud cover and surveyed the layout of the land. He descended towards a point a few miles from where the box currently was. This was in case someone noticed his descent and alerted whatever was sent to guard the box. The area was some kind of suburban sprawl on the outskirts of some major city. The box lie near the center of the city. Andrew picked what seemed to be an empty backyard and headed down.
The Twins and Angelique were being disciplined for their failure. The fact that this had come at the hands of someone with greater power was the only thing that saved them from being stripped of rank. Still, it would be some time before they would be trusted alone with any of the chosen damned.
Meanwhile, their Cenobite mentor set about the task of finding out just what had happened. He knew it had to be his offspring and this raised a disturbing question. Why did the boy come and take those children away, and to where? He was supposed to snatch souls into Hell, not from it.
The answer, he found, lie inside himself.
At the time he took part in the conception, he had not been aware of the human named Elliot Spenser buried inside him. Elliot must have had some input into the programming of the seed, adding a conscience where there shouldn’t have been one. The Cenobite’s scheme had backfired. Leviathan would no doubt destroy him, or worse, if this was found out. It must then remain a secret. The reconditioning of the Twins and Angelique would wipe those events from their mind, he would see to that.
He had faced Leviathan to answer questions about these events. He could easily have said that his troops had lost control and destroyed the children, but that was too easy. The challenge lay in telling enough of the truth to protect it. This was achieved by admitting that there might have been some element of the creation process he didn’t pay enough attention to, which resulted in the problematic weakness. He also admitted there was no excuse for this and that it was the result of his own inferiority. Leviathan did not appear to realize that he was talking about his child the whole time rather than his disciples. He gave every indication that he expected to lose all his rank for this, knowing full well that such signs of humble and intense loyalty were the keys to a god’s favor. He succeeded and with some open disciplinary action inflicted on him, purely for show, he returned to duty..
That left the task of capturing or destroying his son.
One of the four children recently taken was still here in Hell. This child was inside Leviathan and quite unreachable, but the Cenobite’s spawn might still come for the boy. It was just a matter of time.
He was soon to be assigned some new charges to study under his tutelage. Hell was waiting for three who possessed enough of the raw material in them to be put into Leviathan’s service. As they arrived, he would be given the honor (as many times before) of shaping them into full fledged members of the Order of the Gash. One extra order had been passed on and that was to make sure they were more combat ready than the Twins and Angelique had been. He had already decided to make this part of their final form. Also, he had decided they would help him with his quest for his son. He would make this part of their new personality, a hidden part. He wasn’t the first teacher to use the classroom for selfish personal gain and if Hell still had its way, he wouldn’t be the last.
Andrew hadn’t tried to sense the minds of anyone near him in order to keep himself hidden from the new guardian. He was going in blind. He watched the windows of the houses within sight as he touched down. He quickly walked toward an alley at the end of the yard in which he landed, reabsorbing his wings as he walked. He would travel by alleys as much as he could, so as to not be out in the open. He gave himself a new hairstyle as well: short. This was very different from the long brown locks he had when he started this adventure. Andrew watched the windows carefully as he did this. He waited for a second or two. It looked like no one had spotted him.
As he passed the tree furthest from the house, he heard the snap of a twig from just behind the tree. A small boy suddenly fell out into plain sight. Andrew took a quick step backwards. The child couldn’t have been more than six. He looked up at Andrew; big blue eyes amidst a mop of bright red hair. Andrew realized that the boy must have been trying to keep the tree between them, and was making his way around the tree as Andrew passed by when he had tripped on a fallen branch.
The boy seemed to notice that Andrew had stepped back and it appeared that he had taken this as a good sign, because the little boy slowly stood up, not looking scared as much as simply surprised.
"Are… are… you an angel?" came a tiny voice.
Andrew said ‘yes’ without thinking.
"Are you my… guardian angel?" asked the boy.
The look of wonder and awe on that little face was so intense that Andrew felt a strong urge to turn around and check to see if a real angel was floating behind him. He ignored the urge and instead took a step closer to the boy and went down on one knee.
"No, not yours. Another little boy’s." Andrew replied softly. "A little boy who needs my help."
Andrew sensed nothing but raw, unspoiled innocence emanating from this child. He thought of poor Thomas, trapped inside Leviathan. He began to feel angry, but looking at the boy in front of him, another deeper emotion came near the surface, along with some wicked memories. Memories of the orphanage, and the cruel, crazy man who had ran the place for two years before he’d been caught beating one of the children… Andrew, and had been taken away.
A flood of memories bombarded him and it was all he could do to subdue them. His eyes started to water before he got control, but he did get control, and blinked the wetness away.
The little boy’s expression changed from one of raw awe to one of simple puzzlement.
"My dad does that," the boy said.
"Does what?" asked Andrew, wondering if he meant his dad was a ‘guardian angel’ of sorts, a helper of children.
"Tries really hard not to cry," came the answer. "He has to fight really hard. I wish he’d just cry. Could you make him cry?"
Andrew was momentarily taken aback. The sheer power of this child’s question pushed the right/wrong button… and then, Andrew broke into tears.
This time, some memories made it out. Andrew wasn’t even sure of the cruel man’s real name, he had demanded being called ‘sir’ from day one. The kids had called him Mr. Deem (short for demon). His favorite method of ‘discipline’ was locking a kid in a wooden chest in the basement. Andrew had ended up there more often than the other kids, simply because he would stand up to the man and he also had trouble sitting still. He remembered too vividly having his mouth washed out with soap by Mr. Deem and then being locked in the chest with no supper. He spent many nights hungry, with his lips burning from having them smashed against his teeth, and a mouth full of soap, flaking and stuck to the insides of his mouth. He would cry himself to sleep, but would wake up many times during the night disoriented and choking, and would think he had been buried alive. Even now, when it was very quiet, he could hear the echoes of his sobs and screams. A few of those sobs were now escaping.
He finally got a hold of himself after the most aggressive of the tears had fallen. As he wiped them away, he felt the hand of the little boy on his shoulder. Andrew looked up and swore that he saw, in the blue sky eyes of this child, all the wisdom of the world. He finished with his tears and took the boy’s hand in his. He could feel his resolve increasing with each breath he took, due in no small part to the presence before him.
"What’s your name?" Andrew asked.
"Andy" came the reply.
"Well Andy," said Andrew "thanks for being my angel."
Andy smiled. "You’re welcome." He paused and then said, "Are you… going to have to go now to help the other kid?"
"Yes, I am."
Then Andrew stood up, ruffled Andy’s hair, told him to be good and turned away. He started down the alley behind the houses and glanced back once to see if Andy was waving goodbye. He wasn’t there anymore. Perhaps he was running to tell someone about the angel that came to visit him. Perhaps he wasn’t even there. Andrew thought about the name irony and wondered if Andy wasn’t just a part of himself that had been ‘brought out in the open’ for him to deal with and draw inspiration from. Could be, he thought. Then again, does it really matter? The effect was the same. He was more focused now than he had been in a while. Andrew was sure about one thing, he needed that focus.
Up to this point he had reluctantly done what he was doing, with a part of him not wanting to face up to the challenge he had gotten himself into. His antics in the clouds were an example. Meeting Andy had done something, however, that changed that. He knew what was at stake. Something vastly more powerful and merciless had taken one innocent child to Hell, a child who should never have went. Who knew how many others languished there, victims of someone else’s desire to enter or to escape Hell. Whether he liked it or not, he had the power to end their suffering.
He stopped and closed his eyes. In his mind he conjured an image of Leviathan from the mind of the demon inside him. He saw an immense set of wings. Along with this image was the knowledge that this was the way that the guardian saw Leviathan, that every kind of being saw it differently. What would Leviathan look like to him, he didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. He would find a way to destroy it, and for the guardian’s benefit, Andrew imagined the giant wings bursting into flames and collapsing. He sensed intense fear from the demon. This was a good sign.
Andrew began to whistle softly as he walked. It was only a matter of time.
Andy sprouted small white wings, giggled, and shot into the sky. He went so fast, no human would have been able to see him go. After a few minutes of gaining speed (he was now leaving the galaxy, if one cared about such details) he passed into his dimension. He had wondered, like any angel created from a mortal soul, if he should have stolen a visit to his parents. They were probably still grieving. He resisted and thought of his mission. He had been given the task of making sure that Andrew had somewhat of a clear mind for the quest ahead. With that done, he now needed to return. The Order of Healing most likely had another mission lined up for him already. A child’s work was never done.
Mindy took a towel and wiped herself off. She had gotten quite sweaty in that last scene and was looking forward to a nice cool shower. Her legs were still tingling from the orgasm (it was nice now and then to have a real one and not have to fake it). One of the camera men had gushed at her about how she was the best there was. She made up her mind within seconds that he would never have her, but pissing off a camera guy wasn’t smart, business-wise, so she just smiled and thanked him.
Pampering time was now over since all the guys in the room (actors and crew alike) had gotten what they wanted. She would now be left alone. As she turned on the shower she heard loud laughter from out in the main room. The guys were most likely sitting around and congratulating each other on having such great jobs. Someday, she thought. I’m out of here. She still didn’t quite have everything paid off or had she built the nest egg big enough yet, so she’d stay in the business for a year to two more. Then it was goodbye.
After the shower, she dried off and put on a robe. There would be a wrap party and she figured she’d hang around and enjoy the free food and drugs. She knew she was lucky in that she could totally get into that stuff for a night and then the next day was able to easily say no. Not everyone had the self-discipline or stamina for it. Their loss, she thought. Her self-discipline and stamina was also what allowed her to excel in porn. There was no other woman in the business who could go longer and harder, and still be able to keep an aloof attitude onscreen, which of course, drove the viewers nuts.
She walked over to her trailer and once inside, looked at her ‘to do’ list. Nothing much. She had already called her agent to confirm her next film and called her mother to wish her happy birthday. All that remained was the box.
Mindy had been working on it for days now. The man who gave it to her said he was looking for someone to do some light S&M and needed someone with some brains. There were going to be a lot of lines and a short shooting schedule. She had started on the box immediately, but hadn’t gotten anywhere with it. Tonight would be different.
She let her robe drop and walked into her bedroom. Mindy felt intense excitement as she noticed the box laying on the bed, glistening seductively in the late afternoon sun. She sat on the bed cross-legged and naked. She picked up the box and held it in her lap. She was suddenly aware of a growing wetness between her legs.
"Ooooh. You’re a hot little number, aren’t you?" she purred.
Mindy then noticed how her cunt was reflected in the box’s surface. It was not hers, she thought, but her screen alter ego’s. This alter ego went by the name of Jennie Hott.
In reflections, she saw Jennie, not Mindy. Mindy was on this side, doing a job and paying bills. It was Jennie who enjoyed it and had sex for it’s own sake. No responsibilities. No worries except how to get off in as wild a way as she could. Nothing more, nothing less. Such an easy, simple life.
Mindy explored some of her fantasies through Jennie, but not all of them. Jennie was aloof and had her limits. She had been screwed by men in practically every way except ‘very painful’, and she had experienced other women as much as the average sex toy would allow. But that was nowhere near what lie underneath. Mindy felt internal urges too intense and twisted to admit fully to herself, let alone anyone else. Deep down, she wanted more, much more.
She had flashes of men bathed in blood, masturbating and screaming as she tore their skin off with her bare hands. She saw women dangling from the ceiling, pierced in every possible way, moaning for mercy and getting none. Mindy saw orgies which would last for days and would end with her alone still alive. As soon as these images found their way to the surface of her mind, she’d push them back down. She would swear to not rent any more S&M titles, but she knew better. The stuff she rented was to fill an urge already there, to appease it. This allowed her to live her life.
She had decided long ago to never start doing serious S&M, because she knew if she did, she’d never be able to stop and would lose any semblance of decency. She’d probably wind up killing a co-star and that would be it. No, she thought. Better to play with herself and fantasize it, rather than act it out.
As she was thinking of this, running her fingers over the box and feeling for an opening, the box clicked. It was a small click, but there nonetheless. Her heart skipped a beat and she almost yelled in celebration. She noticed now how the reflection was shifting. Then, she swore she felt a tingling in her cunt. It felt as if someone were lightly running their fingers over her pubic hair and lips, teasing her with utmost urgency. She again caught the reflection and as the reflection bent, she was sure she could almost feel it. Her body was aching to change too. To be free of earthly limits, to be able to warp and twist without constraint. That was the ultimate freedom, to be a body unbound. She would spend eternity as flesh in constant, savage change. The box was calling her, seducing her, giving her hope for the kind of existence that only damnation could provide.
Her conscious mind shoved this partially away, but that was all. Jennie was in there, trying to be aloof, but getting scared. This existence was not what a highly paid, posh loving, aloof porn star should want. The tease was the thing. These thoughts shattered all pretenses and threatened her materialistic side. That side fought back.
"Now, now lover," she whispered. "Mustn’t get too pushy. Jennie will say when."
The box felt hot, almost too hot to the touch. Still, it also felt soothing to her hands. She, on the other hand, felt too hot not to be touched. Mindy was so horny right then that she was absolutely sure a strong breeze across the bed would thrust her headlong into an orgasm so intense, she’d lose her mind. Jennie faded away and Mindy, or more accurately, the deep dark animal in her, took over.
She lay back slowly and let the box slide across her inner left thigh toward her cunt. As her head came to rest on the bed, so did the box against her throbbing wetness. Her hands continued to work the mysteries of the surface and these motions further pushed her closer and closer toward ‘the little death’.
Mindy felt a very strong clicking from the box and then she heard music. The music made her think of a music box she loved as a child. The box began to vibrate and she heard the sounds of metal sliding on metal. She could feel that the box was changing, but she also felt a vibration coming from the box. It held her right at the threshold of release. She dangled there while the box shifted and changed.
She opened her eyes and stole a glance toward it. One part of the box was sliding down into the other. The top of this piece looked much like the shape of a star. Then, when it finished, the box began to vibrate even more.
That was it. She fell back and let out a yell as the first wave of a massive orgasm smashed against her. She pulled the box even tighter against herself. Pushing it as hard as she could into her cunt, she roared as more waves of ecstasy rolled over her. She took in one big breath and held it for a second as another wave began. As the wave hit, she began to let it out. This was the biggest one yet.
… and suddenly in the midst of this mother of all orgasms, something attacked her. She didn’t know what, but it had no mercy. As part of her still reeled in the most intense orgasm she’d ever felt, the other part reeled in excruciating pain. She felt hooks and knives slicing into her body. She tried to reach down to fend off the attack but noticed her hands were pinned to either side of her. She tried to scream, but instead a laugh came out. She tried to kick with her legs but instead felt her knees hit the sides of her head. She began to hear popping sounds and felt a warm fluid running all over her body.
Then the fluid ran over her face and she discovered what it was, blood. She knew without a doubt it was her own. She tried to open her eyes and managed to open them for the briefest of moments, enough to see a man looming over her. A man in leather fitted far too tightly. A man with a head impaled by dozens of pins. A wave of pain overtook the pleasure and she closed her eyes and screamed.
The screaming continued for hours, as did the pain. She wanted to escape, to death, to madness, but neither was available to her. She was so confused. Why was she suffering? What did she do? Where was she? Why was she?
"Please stop!!!" came the scream. "Oh God, no! Oh God! Please!"
Copulas looked at the woman before her, writhing and begging for an end to it. How lucky this woman was, she thought, to just spend her days without responsibility. To be able to just suffer and endure. Nothing more, nothing less. Such a simple, easy life.
Copulas decided to go over to the wall and pull a new instrument down. She was in training and the art of inflicting pleasure was by no means easy. You had to balance pain with calm, to keep the victim at the edge of madness, but firmly on this side of it.
As she reached for the nastiest looking tool on the wall, she noticed her own reflection in the wide metal blade of the tool. The reflection twisted and changed. She thought she saw a human woman for an instant. The woman was screaming and seemed to be trying to say something. Imagine that, thought Copulas, a screaming reflection. For some reason, she could almost hear the screams. They were very faint and hardly discernable, but Copulas was almost sure the woman was yelling a name. A name that sounded like ‘Mindy.’ There was also a fair resemblance between the reflection and herself. This might be what would she would have looked like had she been born mortal, as opposed to being a Cenobite.
Interesting, thought Copulas, Mindy the Screaming Reflection. She went back to work and chalked the experience up as one of the many wonders of Hell. Hell had such incredible sights to show her, and anyone with the vision to look for them could never, ever get bored.
As she inflicted pleasure on the woman before her, Copulas thought of a dream that she had recently. One in which she was alone, trapped in a delicate body, and dreaming of Hell and all its glories. The dream was fading. She knew that if one rehearsed a dream, it would be become a more permanent part of one’s psyche. No rehearsals today. She loved being a Cenobite too much. There was nothing in the universe that would make her want to be a frail, human weakling.
She also knew that one of those frail humans might break in at any moment and try to steal this woman from Hell. She felt this in every part of her essence. She would need to keep a mind’s eye open and be ready for any confrontation. Copulas knew, as she guessed any Cenobite did, that it was possible that a human could gain the power of the Shaping, or the power to open a doorway to Hell at will. If that ever happened (or worse, a human gained both skills), it could spell doom for them all. Cenobites were Leviathan’s first line of defense against such an enemy. She would not falter in that task.
He was too late.
Andrew felt the portal closing from many blocks away. He started running towards it at full speed. It was mid-day and the streets were full of people. He would have liked to change into something faster, but again, he was trying to sneak up on the box and its guardian. He wanted to get as close as he could before he was found out.
He then felt the probe of the guardian’s mind.
Andrew slowed down to a walk and concentrated on sending a false mindset. He thought of a imaginary wife and kids twenty minutes away and that they were going to rent a movie tonight and that he had to stop on the way home and get some milk. He allowed himself to look forward to it. He allowed those thoughts to float on the surface of his mind and set up a false history behind them. This history covered the shield he had erected, to hide his true mind and the demon inside him. The real Andrew knew that Hell fed on the bored, the angry, and the unsatisfied. It fed on those who yearned for more than this world provided, so he created a persona that was quite content with what it had been dealt. He felt the guardian’s probing almost reach the shield, but it stopped before going that far. The mind it believed was Andrew’s was sufficiently banal enough for it to lose the guardian’s interest.
Now he only had a few blocks to go and the box would be his.
Even the rocks seemed different in the city, thought Kenneth. They were alive with the histories of all those who had trod upon them. They contained the excitement of opportunity. All those people who could do whatever they wanted and see all the sights, without having to drive for two hours to do so.
Kenneth Derra loved coming to the city and escaping the farm, if only for a few hours. He reaffirmed his vow to save up enough money to move here and find a job. Then he would work his way up the ladder, and one day, he’d rule his own empire from the best house in the best neighborhood this city had to offer.
How many times had he said that vow? And how many times had he faltered, instead opting to purchase a piece of the magic, taking home some device or trinket which reeked of technology and promised itself as ‘the latest’. He then spent much of his free time enjoying it in his room. This room was upstairs in the dusty, cracked old farm house that his great-great-grandfather had built back when farming was something special and most everyone did it. Those days were gone, and now, the struggle to maintain the fields and/or raise the cattle had been overtaken by the struggle to pay the bank every month.
His parents had played it safe. When the farmers around them had taken out loans to expand and improve, using what they currently had as collateral, Kenneth’s parents said ‘no’ and stayed as they were. The Derra family then watched as everyone became richer. While they toiled with equipment that was as old as they were, the surrounding farms did the same work in half the time in machinery that was twice as expensive. Expanding or not expanding, it was a gamble either way, and everyone but the Derras won.
So a dozen or more years ago, the Derras joined the pack. They took out some major loans and caught up with their neighbors.
Then farming went to hell, and dairy farming was hit worst of all. The Derras had been dairy farmers for generations, and now the current two generations, Kenneth and his parents, faced the near end of that tradition on a monthly basis.
Kenneth was only a couple of years old when his parents expanded, and only a couple of years older when the bottom fell out. From that point on, his life was harder and more stressful than any of his ancestors, or so he thought. Not only did he and his parents have to work their fingers to the bone, but they also had to work for seemingly nothing. The bank got their money before the Derras did, and quite often the check would show up with zeroes on it, and they’d have to make do.
His parents had spent many evenings arguing about money, and he would lay awake, vowing that he would not make their mistake. He would not hesitate to chase his dreams, and would not only keep up with everyone else, but beat them to the punch. He’d learned from his parents, as every generation is supposed to. The trouble was, he applied it to the other extreme.
He was so hungry for the new and great, that there was nothing left for a rainy day. Quite often, he wouldn’t have enough money to put gas in his car, but he had the latest electronic toys.
When Kenneth came home with the latest tapes or CD’s or cartridges or game systems, his father always made a point to ask him ‘how is that going to taste next year if things go bad?’. Kenneth wouldn’t reply. He would just go up to his room, and imagine he had all the time in the world to play with whatever it was he had bought.
Now here he was, once again walking along downtown streets and looking for something, anything to take back home to alleviate his suffering.
As he passed an alley, he caught a bright sign out of the corner of his eye. He turned into that alley and as he walked toward the sign, he was able to read it. It was a very ornate neon sign spelling out the title Wonders of the World. Kenneth thought it was odd that such a store would be buried back in an alley, but he decided to check it out anyway. The name alone made it worth a look.
He was walking along the backs of other stores, and as he passed them, he could hear the chatter of workers on a break, or hiding from the boss, or flushing the toilet. Even these sounds were a lot more exciting to him here in the city. All that activity. All that energy.
He maneuvered his way through dumpsters and cardboard piles, careful to watch his step. He glanced further down the alley to see if perhaps he had taken the hard way and that a nice clear walk to the store was available from that side.
More dumpsters and garbage.
He stopped under the sign and looked at the entry way in front of him. A small flight of stairs ended at a screen door. He noticed that there were no windows on the back side of this building, even though it was easily four stories tall.
So, he thought, here was a shop tucked in an alley which made up the backends of many department stores. It felt like a secret place. One that not many city folk might know about. What treasures, he wondered, lay inside?
"One way to find out," he whispered to himself, walking up the small flight of stairs and then pulling open the door to the Wonders of the World.
The store was an odd mixture of old and new. Video game consoles sat next to ancient looking lamps, with both inside old display cases with extreme lighting effects inside. A tiny, full-color television sat atop a well-worn travel chest with stickers from places Kenneth had never even heard of. An old ornate sword was balanced on top of a glass container which had slow moving brightly colored liquids moving and shifting about in it. An impossibly old looking wood stove was the foundation for a large plastic video game cartridge case full of games. On top of the game case was an hourglass full of multicolored sand in which the sand changed colors as it sifted through the small hole at the center of the hourglass. The hourglass supported a lacquered box, the likes of which Kenneth had never seen.
The hourglass had a sticker on it which read ‘$100’. Kenneth had thirty, but wondered if the whole stack was a hundred or just the hourglass.
"What’s your pleasure, sir?" came a sudden voice from behind him, making Kenneth jump in spite of himself. He spun around and was greeted by a very tall, thin oriental man. He had a full head of gray hair, but the hair only touched his head at its roots. His head looked much like a willow tree with two small eyes and an even smaller mouth visible beneath.
Kenneth thought about his question. Although the hourglass and the rest of the stuff were cool, it was the box that held his attention. He had read about Chinese puzzle boxes and had seen some pictures of a few, but no picture he had seen could do this box justice. It seemed to call him, begging him to solve it. It was as if he was the only one who could, or would, dare to probe its mysteries.
What was strange about all this was that normally he would go for the ‘highest tech’ item he could find. There was something about the box that went beyond technology. It was as if the box was alive.
He knew what he wanted.
"The box", replied Kenneth, "How much is it?"
"Whatever you think its worth."
Kenneth had a bizarre feeling of déjà vu, but ignored it and said "twenty-five dollars."
"Thirty," said the old man.
"Twenty-seven fifty" countered Kenneth.
"Twenty-eight fifty-seven," shot back the old man.
"What would that work out to be with tax?" asked Kenneth.
"At five percent sales tax, about thirty dollars."
Kenneth smiled, admitting defeat. He then dug the money out and handed it to the shop keeper. The money disappeared in the pockets of what looked like a cross between a smock and a coat. He turned back to his prize.
He slowly reached out and picked up the box, tiny shivers of anticipation coursed through him. The box felt sharp, yet not unlike wax, and even more, like wood. As his mind tried to catalog the sensations his fingertips sent, it seemed to discover a new impression.
It was magic… and it was love at first touch.
Kenneth started for the door, not even thinking to ask for a receipt, so enraptured was he with the puzzle cradled in his hands. He half-turned back to the shop keeper and said thanks.
"Take pleasure in it," was all the shop keeper said.
Oh, he would. No doubt about it. He would.
Kenneth made his way through the dumpsters once again and then in the open air, headed back towards the parking ramp where his truck was, barely seeing the sidewalk in front of him. The puzzle had already vexed him, and his fingers were probing the surface, searching for a way in.
A policeman thought he saw movement in the alley. He was on walk today, and part of that walk was a quick jaunt down Dumpster Alley to chase away anyone loitering at the back of the stores. Can’t have the bums scaring away customers, he thought. He squinted his eyes into the shadows. He saw movement all right. Someone in a trench coat was making their way to the other end of the alley. He stepped into the alley in that direction, pulling out his talkie to call it in.
He heard a loud creak above and glanced toward the sound. An old rusted soda sign swung in the breeze, creaking and squeaking to the rhythm of the wind. It was a remnant of a day when this alley was a pedestrian walk way and thirsty souls would be lured into whatever store the sign used to hang over with the promise of an end to their parched state.
This place sure has gone to hell, thought the officer, as he made it to end of the alley, looking left and right, expecting whoever it was in the coat to be ambling away.
There was no one fitting that description in sight. He poked his head in every store on either side of that part of the street, but no one had seen anyone in a trench coat.
Oh well, he thought, whoever it was must’ve beat it.
He took one more trip down the alley and continued on his rounds.
Andrew arrived at the alley in time to see the policeman moving away at the other end of it and disappearing to the left. The box was no longer here. He could, however, sense an almost vivid echo of Hell’s magic amongst the dumpsters. He saw the creaking sign.
The box had been passed on to its next victim.
Andrew could sense which way the box had gone. For a moment, he heard the echo of a car starting in the parking garage down the street. That’s where it was.
He took off at a run towards it.
Now I must protect the box and it’s prey. They need the time alone. Hell must be fed. The wonders of hell await him. What happened to the previous one? It has guarded LeMarchand’s Configuration for a long time. Perhaps I will find out. Perhaps not. The last one was special. She has now become a Cenobite. Leviathan’s realm increases through many, many doorways. More Cenobites are happening. It will not be long and this world will be added. Then the Cenobites can roam free and the box will have served its purpose. I may then be able to guard it forever, sealed with it inside Leviathan as it takes this world and forever appears in this sky. I will be diligence. I will be success. I will be victorious in all my battles. It is Leviathan’s will which in turn becomes my will. He had left the large village. He will seek seclusion. He will delve into the box and shall not return. I will watch as the box seals and will make sure it is removed from the site. I will make sure it is put before the next. I will not falter. I am…
Something is following me.
The Sun slowly worked it way towards the west, occasionally visible through openings in the clouds above Andrew. He followed its lead as he chased Kenneth’s pickup truck. He knew where the sun was without even looking, as well as the moon and thousands of other objects in orbit around the Earth, both of human and non-human origin. There were small alien objects watching and recording, avoiding objects around them and sending short bursts of information toward a specific star, one in the constellation known as Scorpio. This was worth investigating, but not until after Hell had given up its innocent tenants. Whatever aliens were watching us (and for a very long time) would have to wait until this particular quest was finished, either by Andrew’s death or capture, or by victory. His capture, he thought, was the worst of possibilities. If he was caught and converted into a servant of Hell, it would be all over for the Earth. Andrew was able to open doorways at will, and Hell would gain a permanent foothold. In a way, he would then be the Antichrist. Andrew Riest the Antichrist? Wait a minute… There was a connection there. Andy… Anti... Andy Riest. Antichrist. Andy Clayton Riest… Andy C. Riest. Andy Christ… Antichrist. Oh god…What kind of corny sicko was my mother?! No wonder no one could find his father or any references to Riest at the time he was born, his name was a play on words. His mother knew all along what he was, or at least what she intended him to be. He was to be the Antichrist. The utter stupid silliness of his name was outweighed however, by it’s dark message. He didn’t want to think about that. It was too… Back to now… Andrew had read Kenneth’s mind and knew that he had already started working the box but stopped when he reached his truck. He wouldn’t try again until he got home. That gave Andrew plenty of time to get the box from him without drawing too much attention… The Antichrist train of thought quickly went to the back of his mind as he concentrated on his current mission. … but in case there was a new guardian, he didn’t want to make a move until they were out of town. This would hopefully keep the risk of hurting innocent bystanders to a minimum. Besides, Kenneth had picked up a hitchhiker. Some guy named Ian who was on his way home from basic training. Andrew had probed his mind as well and hadn’t found anything of great significance there. Ian was just catching a ride back to a town that was a half an hour out of Kenneth’s way. He skimmed along the bottom of the clouds, watching the truck weave its way out of town. Up ahead, a very large dark bird disappeared into the clouds. Andrew avoided probing it in case it was the guardian. Surprise was his greatest ally in this endeavor. There was subtle change in the air, like a small room when the door is quickly pulled open. A battle was coming.
He stood before Leviathan, his entire body shaking violently from pins to soles. Leviathan was searching his mind to understand what had happened. Everything he had thought, and schemed, and did, came out into the open.
... and with an incredible burst of soul-wrenching pain, so did Eliot.
That had been the root of the problem all along, Leviathan realized. It had been Eliot in there scheming and planning. The Cenobite had made Andrew, and Eliot had infused Andrew with a conscience. So while it had put this Cenobite in high standing instead of demoting him for letting Andrew's mother go, the child had grown up outside of Hell, and was now Earth's best chance of winning.
Eliot disappeared into the maze below. Leviathan was tempted to rip up the Labyrinth to catch him, but the damage would not be worth it. The Labyrinth was its main source of power. No matter how many dimensions were taken, this place needed to stay intact. It had sustained Leviathan since time beyond memory and if all portals were suddenly and permanently sealed, it could still keep the god conscious and aloft all through eternity.
Nevertheless, it attempted to reach down into the maze with various devices and extensions, but with no success. If Eliot had shot into the sky, it would have been all over, but instead Eliot went into hiding.
After a short time, Leviathan stopped its hunt, collected any souls that had escaped from inside it during its activities, and sent out the word to the Labyrinth to watch for Eliot. He was to be destroyed on sight. Someone who possessed the level of knowledge which he had concerning the Order of the Gash would be able to do great damage to the tides of pain that flowed through Hell's maze. It was not worth the risk.
Turning its attention back to the lone Cenobite standing obediently below, Leviathan ripped it open and removed its ambition to build its own Hell, leaving only the desire to serve, and if it was again presented with a chance to take Earth, it would follow strict behavioral patterns and not try to second guess anything. Once it felt satisfied that the adjustments were complete, the god sent him back into the Labyrinth, and waited for word about Eliot.
Leviathan decided to allow Cenobites their human memories from this point on. Eliot had pulled off his treachery because The Favored One had not known about him lurking inside. One Cenobite's ignorance of its true origin could very well cost Leviathan deeply. Never again.
... and so, Eliot Spenser, a British soldier who had solved LeMarchand's configuration, had been worthy enough to become a Cenobite, had meted out decades of suffering, had created many more Cenobites, had escaped Hell and sacrificed himself back into it to save the Earth, and had turned what could have been Hell's greatest moment into possibly its greatest enemy, was now a spirit roaming freely in Hell's hallways, looking for way out. He decided that if he had the chance, he would appear to suffering souls and try to offer comfort. He would have to keep moving on, as whatever was torturing the soul would most likely sense an increase in hope and would return, but he knew all the ways to make someone suffer exquisitely, so he knew he could come up with some interesting ways to make someone feel joy.
Also, his son was still out there somewhere, and if the Wolves of the Water were what he hoped they were, and his son was able to gain their aid, this might spell the end for the puzzle box god. Then again, if his son failed, Eliot knew there was a chance he would end up spending eternity in Hell with only his hopes and the damned for company.
Perhaps given long enough, he could find enough goodness in him to set against his own evil, but that was a long way off, and he had much work to do. He would be watched for, of course, but if he was clever and quick, and luck was on his side, he just might make a difference.
With that thought, Eliot headed down into the bowels of the Labyrinth, and tried not to think too loudly.
The instant Andrew arrived in the new dimension, he tried to jump to Earth, but found he couldn't. He was hovering a few dozen feet above an immense sphere of water which made up the center of this universe. The lighting was minimal at best, but he could sense it nonetheless.
Andrew was becoming less and less reliant on the standard five senses and was now used to his newer sense. He could now see without eyes, hear without ears, smell with no nose, feel something's texture though he was far from it, and know the taste of something from the same distance. There were also other details that came by just thinking about an object: how much force it would take to move it, its surface area, its atomic structure, and much more. The more he used his mind to read others, the more he concentrated on his own adjustments (he was now to the point where he could survive on light alone, not even needing to breathe), and the more the Guardian raged inside him, the more his mental abilities expanded.
He turned his attention towards the sea below. The water was literally full of life. There were creatures as large as cities all the way to others so small, they would be lost on the head of a pin. There also seemed to be no two alike. A great mouth fifty feet across and edged with long sharp teeth opened and swallowed hundreds of other creatures, almost breaking the surface before moving back into the depths. Another creature just stared at him with big black eyes three feet across and little else before it was knocked aside by a large yellow-green eel-like beast trying to escape an immense luminous spider with fins. The water was quite choppy due to all the violent activity in it. He rose further above it to be sure he wouldn't become a snack for one of the bigger creatures.
Above the watersphere floated clouds in constant flux, some light and airy, others dark and storming. Above that, it was black. No stars, nothing. The light of the place came from the life below, and this light lit the undersides of the clouds, creating an effect like holding a flashlight under one's chin in the dark.
Various under-lit clouds and water teeming with life seemed to be all that made up this dimension.
Something moved.
He wasn't sure how he knew it, but he felt something massive shifting itself. He could not pinpoint any direction or distance, but he thought he felt the air change. He wasn't even sure if it was a move that could be classified as physical in nature. It was just a feeling that something very, very immense had just shifted.
A very low rumble began, lasting for a few seconds, and then was gone.
The Guardian inside Andrew was very quiet and still. Andrew suddenly found himself grateful for its company. If worse came to worse, he could always set it free to help him against a common threat.
"Yeah right," he said aloud, "That's all I need."
The demon would no doubt try to find a way to open a doorway to Hell, and he wouldn't allow that to happen, even if it meant his own death. Besides, the Guardian had been with him all through this adventure, and he took no small pleasure in forcing it to watch his quest unfold. Perhaps if Leviathan was destroyed, he'd set it free to finish it off, making it the first and last of Hell's kind he would deal with. It had a nice symmetry to it.
A dark violent storm which was rapidly moving past him suddenly stopped. Lightning continued to flash as the storm hovered in place. Something was behind it, he could sense it. Whatever it was, it was huge, and then it appeared.
Staring at him, standing above the clouds, was a wolf. A very, very, large wolf. It was as if the wolf was looking over a small fence, except that the small fence was many miles away and had to be a mile above the water. The wolf was too dark to tell what exact color it was, but its eyes glowed yellow.
Andrew never felt so small in all his life as he did at that moment. The Guardian inside him whimpered.
The wolf started towards him.
He turned and flew as fast as he could away from it. He even tried again to jump dimensions, but again to no avail. He made his wings as large as he could and beat them as hard as he could through the air. After a few seconds, he glanced back.
The wolf filled the sky.
Before he turned back, Andrew caught a quick glance at its feet. The wolf seemed to be walking on top of the water. He couldn't afford to keep looking however so he turned back around to make sure where he was going.
... and almost ran headlong into a mountain covered with fur.
It was another foot, and this one was indeed on top of the water. The water glowed around it and in the glow, new life was being born and quickly speeding away.
The clouds above him parted and, looking down, was the rest of the wolf that the foot belonged to. This wolves eyes were red and they seemed to burn into him.
Andrew froze in place, barely having the wits to keep flapping.
Suddenly his mind was searched, and violently. There was no hiding from them. He felt like a blade of grass in a tornado and wished that he could change into one and hide in the foot-mountain ahead.
The Guardian squealed in fright as the wolf discovered it.
The wolf let out what might have been a growl for a normal dog, but in this case, was a clap of thunder that shattered Andrew's ears (luckily, he could make more). Andrew realized in that split-second that the wolf wanted the Guardian and not him, so he expelled the demon as fast as he could. He then raced away.
He was right. The mind probe stopped as soon as the demon solidified. Andrew was now a good half-mile from the Guardian. The wolf shot its head down and snapped at the Guardian. The Guardian dove into the water as the wolf came down at it. Surprisingly, the wolf did not break the surface of the water. Instead, it started pawing at it. It may as well been pawing at a frozen lake, thought Andrew, and he realized that it was exactly how it was happening. These immensely powerful beings could not interact with the liquid. Instead, they created life in it.
That would explain the name of them and this place. He was in the realm of the Wolves of the Water, and for now, they were hunting the guardian. The other detail he remembered was that this universe was only about the size of the Earth's moon. He did not have a lot of room to hide, especially if it was just water and clouds from end to end.
Still he continued to put as much distance as he could between him and the rest. He could no longer see what was happening with the wolves and the guardian as he was going around the water and away from it to the edge of the universe. He began to feel queasy and he could not shake the feeling, no matter how he altered his body. He looked up into a fuzzy, black wall. Trying to probe further, he discovered there was nothing out there.
The queasiness he felt was quite simply the edge of existence. Nothing could exist any further past a few feet ahead. The wall he encountered then was not a solid wall on its own, but instead was the result of molecules in his body running up against other molecules ahead that were frozen in place. Further on, he guessed, the molecules would have faded away into nothingness, if they didn't run into ones ahead that were stopped.
Why then isn't every molecule (including mine) frozen like these are? He asked himself.
The universe did not reply. He guessed that it might be a localized phenomenon near the edge of the universe, but that could easily be wrong. The fact was, he could move freely up to a point, then it became like moving in very thick liquid that got increasingly thick to the point where it felt like a solid wall. In this way, the edges of this universe acted like a container.
He turned around and there stood a third wolf. It was jet black, had bright blue eyes, and judging by its features and size, it was a pup. A very large, massive pup, but one nonetheless.
Something was moving very fast towards him from deep down in the life below. As it came within a few feet of the surface, he realized it was the guardian. It broke the surface of the water and shot straight at him and hit him full on. It then latched on to him and would not let go no matter what Andrew did.
The wolf pup came at them, growling a growl so loud that even the earlier storm's thunder would have barely qualified to be one of its echoes.
The guardian was trying to bring about Andrew's destruction, even at the cost of its own. It might have worked if the wolf pup had simply tried to take out the guardian, but it didn't. Instead it came up on them and barked. This made a shock wave which propelled Andrew and the guardian into the wall above them, to which they went far enough into it to where they became completely stuck. The guardian tried to pull itself out of the wall, but the going was too slow.
The pup's blue glowing eyes came closer, and then again, Andrew was in the grip of an immensely more powerful mind. The probe escalated. Andrew was not able to hold anything back. His entire life flashed before his eyes, including everything that had happened since he 'awoke'. His war against Leviathan seemed to be getting the most attention as did his memory of the sight of the puzzle box god itself. Interestingly enough, his encounter with the little boy Andy also garnered some extra attention as well.
Then he was let go again, and just hung there, a fly stuck to the ceiling. He also began to work his way out, but honestly didn't know what he would do once he was out. That wasn't important right now. Staying out of that mental probe was, since during it, he had begun to fell his sanity slip.
Up came one of the pup's front paws, and it blocked out everything else. It then began pawing at the wall to his left, slowly moving over towards him. The guardian was stuck a good twenty feet away in the same direction, and was trying to make its way back out into the free air as well. The pup became quite agitated and continued to swipe closer and closer.
The guardian won the race as it shot out into the open air and dove for the water.
The pup lifted its paw back away from the wall, but did not set it down. It watched the guardian intently and seemed to be waiting.
At the point where the guardian was about mid-way between Andrew and surface of the water, the pup struck. It made one quick jab with its leg and flicked up its paw, which slammed the guardian deep into the wall again, but a good half mile away from Andrew. Now the pup was merciless. It began pushing into the wall with the paw, forcing the guardian deeper and deeper into it.
Andrew felt the guardian's mind breaking up and then all at once, the guardian was gone. The pup had effectively pushed it out of existence.
Those bright blue eyes again turned back towards him. Andrew knew he didn't stand a chance if the pup decided to do to him what it had done to the guardian, so he decided to try and communicate.
Will you help me against Leviathan? He thought.
The pup cocked its head to one side, obviously surprised by this.
Again the mind grabbed him, and his mind was filled with a voice that was a mixture of growls, barks and yelps.
WE ARE TRAPPED HERE.
His head throbbed with each word and he felt an almost overwhelming urge to throw up. Adjustments to his body did not help. It was his mind that was reeling.
I can open a doorway for you, he offered, dreading the reply.
YOU ARE NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO TAKE US WHERE YOU WANT TO GO, THE SHARP-EDGED GOD WILL KEEP YOUR OPENING FROM BEING LARGE ENOUGH.
Then please let me be so that I can continue the war. My world is in danger. More innocents... like Andy... are going to be sucked into Hell. Leviathan could find a way to open a door... permanently. You have to let me go... please.
The pup sniffed the air and stepped back. Other wolves were now visible. There were the first two he saw along with two others, one that was also dark but with green eyes and the other was white with black eyes. They were all sniffing the air and looking about as if something were approaching, the tops of their ears almost brushing the 'wall'.
YOU WILL GO TO YOUR WORLD AND OPEN...
The white one growled for a few seconds, which Andrew realized had been the first rumble he had heard.
...I AM ANXIOUS TO LEAVE AND SHOULD NOT SPEAK TO YOU SO, CHILD OF THE ORDER OF THE GASH. THE CHILD NAMED ANDY IS MORE THAN YOU KNOW... ...WE NEED TO FIND IF MORE OF ITS KIND EXIST. TAKE US TO YOUR WORLD SO THAT WE MIGHT ENLIST THEM IN OUR WAR.
More of its kind? Our war? His head was still spinning, but he pressed on.
If I help you leave this dimension, I want aid against Leviathan in return.
WE ARE SPARING YOUR LIFE, INTRUDER. YOUR PAYMENT TO US WOULD BE OPENING A WAY OUT... THE GOD AND THE HELL YOU ARE FROM DID NOT EXIST WHEN WE BECAME TRAPPED HERE...
He wasn't sure, but he thought he might be getting used to the power of the pup's communication. Perhaps the pup was tuning it down. Either way, the headache wasn't as sharp as it was and the nausea went away.
WE HAVE AN ANCIENT ENEMY WE NEED TO FIND, THE ONE WHO TRICKED US HERE... BUT WE WILL HELP WHERE WE CAN. WE WILL NOT ENDANGER OURSELVES NEEDLESSLY.
This was better than no help.
Agreed, he thought.
Andrew then dug his way out of the wall and soon he was flapping his wings in the free air.
Without the strain of containing the demon he had kept inside, he began to feel stronger. It was like being free of a heavy backpack that had been carried for days.
He was wholly in control of himself, feeling clear of mind as he never did before. He decided to jump to wherever the box was on Earth and destroy it before the Guardian knew what hit it, then he would open the doorway, and the Wolves would most likely come through and finish off the new Guardian as well.
Thinking of the box and how he would destroy it, he crossed over...
... into the cold vacuum of space and a mess of debris.
An instant later he was back with the wolves, his body reassembling itself as the wolves jumped back.
What the hell?!
He had went where the box was, but it was in pieces amongst other debris he could not identify. Had an alien of some kind destroyed the box?
Once he collected himself, he smiled at the wolves sheepishly and then thought of his old apartment (where he had spent the last chapter of his life as a 'normal' human being) and jumped.
Nothing happened.
His apartment was gone. It was no longer in existence. This was scary.
Andrew thought of the air above the city where he had met Andy and tailed Kenneth.
Still nothing.
Had Hell broken through somehow and destroyed everything he had done during his last couple of days on Earth?
Well, there was still Fisherman's Wharf. He had visited it once while staying in San Francisco years ago. He remembered the sea lions near Pier 39. They had been allowed to take over a stretch of docks, and it was quite a sight. Dozens of sea lions barking and basking in the sun. Tourists flocked there to gawk at them and he was no exception. He also remembered going inside a moored World War II submarine (of which he couldn't remember the name). That had also been quite an experience. War was such a frightening unknown to him at the time and he nearly laughed thinking of his innocence...
Andrew would try somewhere near there. He imagined a point part way out into the bay, up above the water's surface a good fifty feet and tried again.
This time he went, and was quite surprised to find water as far as he could see, except for one other thing, the top of the Golden Gate bridge barely sticking out of the water.
California dropped into the ocean while I was gone?!
Below him in the depths he discovered a small group of people were intently listening to a tour guide. They were in some kind of submarine and were all staring out its windows.He heard a voice in their minds.
"Over to our left you'll see what is left of what was called Fisherman's Wharf. It was quite a tourist attraction back before this area dropped under water over three hundred years ago ..."
Over three hundred years ago! What the hell happened?! This is the future!
He tried his best to collect his wits...
Now I can jump through time? ...but why did I end up here and not back when I first visited the Wharf?
One way to find out. He thought of the wolves again and went. He was gripped by the pup's mind as soon as he reappeared. Again his mind was probed, he had flashes of everything he had just seen, including the jump into space. The pup let him go and sat back on its haunches, its mouth hanging open and its brow furrowed. If Andrew didn't know better, he'd think it was shocked.
What's wrong? he thought, I seem to be able to jump through time now. Maybe I can take you back to when you were trapped here...
TIME IS SLOWER HERE THAN THE OTHER PLACES, boomed the pup's thoughts, YOU DO NOT HAVE THE ABILITY TO MOVE THROUGH TIME.
It's only been about a half an hour! Centuries have gone by everywhere else while I spent a half hour here?!
YES.
Now it was Andrew's turn to be dazed. He couldn't believe it. Everyone he had saved and had planned on going back to fully heal had grown old and died.
Oh no... Thomas.
The first person he had saved had been Rebecca. Then her brothers Jonathan and Nathaniel. Thomas was the most innocent and most difficult to get to. Those three siblings, and their older sister Joleen, had also grown old and died while Thomas was trapped in Hell. Hundreds of years of suffering.
He had to jump before more time passed.
I will go back and open your way to Earth. Once you sense the doorway, come through as fast as you can. Oh yeah, promise me you'll help me?
YES.
As he jumped, he wondered how he could possibly make a god honor a promise.
Copulas stood by as the latest human to solve her puzzle was rewarded for his labors by the other Cenobites she had made. She thought of all the years she had spent as a human making that puzzle, and all the centuries she had spent welcoming its lucky victims.
It had taken twenty years to pull it off, but finally she achieved it. She pulled out the memory and relived it, something she hadn't done for quite some time.
In the middle of the night, she and the latest programmer she had taken in (who could hardly believe his luck since he had a folder devoted just to her) compiled her program for the hundredth time and executed it. He was a wizard with artificial intelligence programming and had served her well. The computer's circuitry hummed with increasing energy as the screen began to flash patterns of light and color. A few seconds later, the screen went black except for a small dialog box which said...
What's your pleasure, sir?
Below it was a blank field with a drop-down button next to it. The skinny, balding man jabbed at it with his finger. The list appeared and the only option was Hell. He selected it with the same jabbing motion as well as the subsequent 'ok' button.
A question appeared asking what a specific number would be when converted to another number system. The answer was quickly typed in and he tapped the enter key. The screen flashed bright blue and then returned to black as a single short tone came out of the speakers. A second question came up asking how many days a week he would like to have sex.
He turned and smiled at Mindy as he tapped the '7' key without taking his eyes away from her. She gave him a small smile and nodded towards the screen. He turned back and jabbed the 'ok' button. The screen flashed the same blue and then added red as the speakers emitted a second tone after again playing the first. The screen was once again black.
This continued with the questions getting increasingly difficult and more personal, and each success added something new to the pattern of lights and sounds.
Three hours later, he was sweating, naked and typing and jabbing like a mad man. Just as he answered a combination question which really pushed his knowledge of dimensional shifting and drew him to the limits of his sexual experience with a question about the mixture of various massage techniques, Mindy sensed a subtle change in the air.
The one window in the room, which had always been a convenient source of lighting due to a street light a few feet away, slowly went dark.
A license agreement appeared on the screen. He started to read it and then laughed and started over, reading it aloud.
"By clicking 'Accept', you are agreeing to grant Hell exclusive rights to your soul, in which you will endure eternal suffering with no hope of reprieve. Hell will guarantee, for a time period lasting no less than eternity, that a) There are conditions of the nerve endings, the like of which your imagination, however fevered, could not hope to evoke, and b) We have such sights to show you. Further, should you be selected, you may serve as an administrator of pain and be provided with the latest tools with which to perform said function. Your title will be 'Cenobite', which is defined as 'demons to some, angels to others'. If you are not selected for this honor, you will still be used as a test subject for various explorations into the further regions of experience..."
"Wow! This is too much!" he said, laughing, as he jabbed the "Accept" button.
The agreement shrunk to a dot, which pulsed and changed colors. The sound of a bell tolling was coming from the speakers. He moved his face up closer to the screen and squinted at it in an attempt to see it better.
Hooks and chains shot out through the screen and imbedded into his hand and face. His head was pulled into the screen. His screams were muffled as he was hooked with more chains and violently yanked into Hell.
Now it was Mindy's turn.
"I was Copulas and I have returned to reclaim my place. This new puzzle needs a guardian to keep it current. My last action as a human is for me to send it out to a few common places. It will bring Hell many, many souls."
In the middle of the blackness (and the blood around the edges of the screen) appeared the interface for moving files. She waved her hands in front of it with the proper motions and soon it was out there on the net, a doorway for the 21st century.
Kenneth had died Amish and full of cancer, amongst friends and family. She thought it was an unfitting end to what could have been a glorious damnation as the Harvester. Damnation goes on, Mindy thought as she climbed through the screen (it was just big enough for her to squeeze through) and into Hell, finally back to her home. A few hours later, Copulas stood facing her mentor, and was indoctrinated as Copulas, Lead Cenobite of the Sect of the Compiled Configuration.
... and in that position she had spent the next four hundred years, bringing across more souls than had ever been culled with any other puzzle, and had administered the kind of suffering that had become legendary, even in Hell.
She put the memory away.
Copulas had occasion to work with her mentor, which reminded her of her first life in Hell, a time that over the centuries also became a powerful memory. Since she made it back into Hell, she had aided him during the crisis when his human soul had led a revolt that nearly overthrew the Labyrinth and had only been stopped after the Cenobite destroyed him (a persistent rumor circulated that the soul slipped into him, where it had hidden until his destruction).
Leviathan had not known who lead the revolt as it had been severely weakened by the waves of joy that had splashed against it. The puzzle box God was quiet for quite some time afterwards and when it did speak, it seemed to not care to discuss the event and declared the subject off-limits throughout the ranks of its servants.
Copulas now found she missed the Favored One's presence since his demise at the hands of a LeMarchand descendant. The distant offspring of the man who had made the box had used it to set a trap, and a few minutes after her mentor, Angelique, and the Twins went into that dimension (having completed their disciplining ages ago and returned to the fold), there was an explosion which destroyed the box, presumably taking the Cenobites with it. The story taken from the minds that she welcomed to Hell shortly after confirmed it.
... and humanity had been made aware of Hell's existence and did everything it could to prevent more from crossing over. There had been a marked decrease in souls, but after a couple of decades, it picked back up, and reached an all-time high, since the next generation had devoured all things Hell in order to separate themselves from their parents and achieve their own sense of identity. So in the end, it all balanced out and was now back to a level that satisfied even Leviathan's appetite.
In all those years, however, no one had been able to get a permanent foothold in Earth. There had been more attempts to understand how the Guardians were able to get through, but no progress had ever been made. In a specific spot in a specific room in a specific corner of Hell, there was a doorway open to Earth which only the Guardians could use. Many other beings had tried and been destroyed. It was also a one-way trip where the Guardian was randomly dropped somewhere. This had been confirmed as Guardians sent reports back through via the newly damned. The Guardians could see all that was happening in Hell, but could not interact with it. Each puzzle allowed one guardian through, which meant the doorway had something to do with the puzzles themselves, but that was as far as the greatest minds in Hell could get.
The moon was full and the air felt much warmer. The Golden Gate was completely submerged this time. Andrew reached out further with his mind.
The first thing he noticed was alien minds all over the planet. Earth had apparently made contact with other worlds and now had many extra-terrestrial visitors. The spy satellites that he had sensed were gone. Either humanity had discovered them and got rid of them, or whatever alien race made them had scooped them up before landing.
Six hundred years of history flooded him. The natural disasters which had been predicted had come to pass. Yosemite blew which blanketed the great plains in five inches of ash and plunged the planet into a dark, sunless winter for over a decade. The great earthquake that had been due to hit the Midwest in 1989 had hit a dozen or so years later and many times since, causing great suffering to millions...
There was so much more but the story of aliens on Earth interested him more. They first came as colonists, declaring Earth for their kind. Humanity had suddenly been shoved aside as 'primitive natives' and later enslaved. Quickly adapting, they threw off the yoke of slavery. The last hundred years were peaceful as humans got over their bitterness and Earth became a favorite stop of many races, including their former masters.
The bad side had been what had happened to the environment. While Earth had been running out of resources, there had been a concerted effort to preserve and conserve nature. Once we hit space and found plenty of materials from elsewhere, wasteful attitudes came back. The Earth was now a cesspool where cities existed above it all, floating on various mechanical constructs that allowed them to avert most natural disasters.
One such city, New Angeles, loomed a few miles away near the ever moving inward shore of the Pacific. It was moored by large heavy engines on the sea floor which could be started and moved as the need arose. Various vehicles flew in and out of the city in great numbers. It reminded Andrew of flies buzzing a carcass.
Since people now had connections to the net in their heads, reading their minds allowed him to peruse in detail, all recorded history. He searched for anything resembling the box and picked up on the story of his father's demise.
A descendant of the man who made the box had built a giant version of it in space near Mars. With this trap, he successfully destroyed the real box and four Cenobites, one of which was his father. He skipped to the final few moments. The final trick had been the young genius using a hologram on his father to keep him in place while he got away.
Why hadn't he been able to second guess this? Andrew wondered. He had a strong enough mind to keep me from pushing him into Hell, but in the end was undone by a light show? Something must have happened to him after I left.
Maybe if he was lucky, Hell itself had grown dumb and lazy too. He searched for more and was glad to see Hell had been exposed after this, but it didn't last long. It was soon written off as a hoax and business went back to usual. Humanity had let the Earth go to Hell on its own and if Leviathan had been getting more and more souls, he guessed it wouldn't be long before people found out how much a hoax could hurt. He sensed that Hell was indeed closer. There were more puzzles in place and the line between dimensions was starting to thin.
Andrew was thankful he got out of the Wolves realm when he did, or he might have jumped right into a Hell infested Earth.
Speaking of the Wolves, time to make some waves.
He flew a little further away from New Angeles and the shore and then opened a doorway. He reached out and felt for the Wolves minds. They were coming through and starting to speed up.
Andrew concentrated with everything he had, but it felt like trying to pull a pillow through the head of a pin. He did this for hours and then he felt the minds on the other side reaching for him. He was amazed at their speed since to them, it had probably been a nanosecond or less since the doorway appeared.
He met their minds and let them take over. Soon they were moving much faster and it was increasing at an exponential rate. He started to feel his mind ripping, as the sheer power of their will pushed through him and expanded his abilities. Andrew was about to end it as he began to lose his mind. One wolf was part way through and there were still four more to go...
Suddenly, the doorway flew wide open and out onto the Pacific spilled the Wolves of the Water.
Leviathan shuddered and came to a stop.
Copulas forgot what she was doing for a moment, and accidentally took a large chunk out of a wall next to her, instead of the bleeding man hanging in front of her.
Word spread throughout the clouds of Earth that their creators were back, and they sped towards the place with the rapidly sinking land.
The Order of Healing mustered its troops and headed to Earth, Andy among them.
A lonely, depressed, masochistic, disheveled, sorry excuse for a person decided not to click 'Accept', turned off his computer and started cleaning his apartment. As he opened an old beat up cardboard box that hadn't been touched in ages, he discovered the stained dusty teddy bear that he had been given on his first birthday. That bear had been his angel through countless childhood hells. He fell on his knees, buried his face in it, and through a storm of sobs, began his journey back to joy. Soon the bear was soaked, but it didn't complain. It just smiled as it always had and soaked up more...
On one of many small retro farms floating in the sky, a calf pulled its head free from a gate. Before laying down, a old cow stamped the floor, scaring a tiny kitten out of harm's way. A big fat cat sat watching a mouse, and then feeling hungry, went and ate cat food (the mouse continued enjoying its cheese). Another mouse, about to climb up to the warmth of a leg, caught the smell of the cheese and instead sped at that. A hammer hit a pin, securing a gate, and a farmer wiped his brow and called it a day.
The Wolves of the Water were standing quite close to each other. Under each paw, the water was glowing, as it was in the small universe, and life sprang from it and sped away. Then the light from each one began to mix with the light from the others. Andrew felt a sudden shock as a bright flash shot out from under the Wolves. It was some kind of an energy wave and it expanded out, not losing its power in the least. As it hit the shore, it changed a pile of oily barrels into bright blue flowers. The wave continued on, changing everything that leaked and stained and corrupted into something healthy and alive. It spread across the planet and picked up speed. One minute later, the Earth was remade. The charcoal gray planet returned to the blues and greens of the past.
Clouds were collecting around the wolves legs, storming and flashing and rumbling, and Andrew discovered the truth.
The clouds are alive?!, he thought. Wait! Water evaporates into clouds. The Wolves have been here before. I wonder...
A bright light appeared in sky far above him and increased to the point where it became painful to look at it... with any of his senses. It was like a star had formed above his head. The Wolves squinted and growled, drowning out the rumblings of the storms. Clouds blew away in panic, even though the 'star' was far higher.
From the ball of light came the Order of Healing. Dots of light shot out from the star and began to fill the air, becoming a blizzard of brightness in just a few seconds.
But not all its members were glowing. Some were pitch black, some were translucent, and most were something in-between.
A group of them headed over to the Wolves, who bared their teeth in response. The white one snapped its mouth, catching some of them. The remaining ones fled back towards the star.
After a few seconds, the wolf opened its mouth and out came many dots, who promptly shot back to the rest.
"Temperamental gods, aren't they?" said a voice behind Andrew.
He spun around to see Andy floating behind him. At least it was Andy's face and voice. The rest of him seemed to be made up of light, which shimmered and sparkled with every thrust of his light, nearly transparent wings.
"Andy?"
"Yes, it's me. I just couldn't help but stop down. The look on your face is priceless Andrew."
"But..."
"I know, I know. I am a member of what we call the Order of Healing. We've been after the Order of the Gash for ages. I'd guess you'd say I'm an angel. ...well, those who love suffering would think of me as a demon, but that's another discussion... anyway, the time has come to take on Leviathan directly. It will no doubt be ready for us, but we have to try. Hell has been taking more and more innocents and it's time to end it."
Andrew looked at all the other dots flying around above them. He suddenly snapped his head back at Andy.
"Why didn't you tell me this centuries ago when we first met?! I thought I was alone in this. If I'd known there was an 'Order of Healing' we could have taken Leviathan on long ago. Do you have any idea how much suffering we might have stopped?!"
"Truth is, Andrew, we did take on Hell, a few years before you were born. We went through all the dimensions into which Hell had spread and tried to weed it out. We lost miserably and have only recently gotten our numbers back to where they should be. At the time I met you, we were too busy trying to heal ourselves, let alone start another conflict."
"Well, are you ready now?" Andrew said with much more sarcasm than he intended.
"Yes, yes, we're ready now. We've just been waiting for you to reappear so you can get us into Hell."
"You mean you can't..."
"No, we can't. We can go anywhere else, but not the source. You, my friend, are our one and only ticket to Hell."
Andrew turned and looked at the Wolves...
How about you? Will you come with us?
The answer, as usual, came from the pup.
NO. OUR VENGEANCE COMES ABOVE ALL ELSE. YOUR WAR WITH THE SHARP-EDGED GOD DOES NOTHING TOWARD THAT GOAL...
... and with that, they bounded over him towards land, where, as their paws hit solid ground, they leapt out of existence. Immediately, the clouds began weeping, and a thick heavy rain began to fall.
"We could have used their help, but the forces of creation, being unpredictable as their are, do not make good battle mates..."
As Andy talked on, extolling the virtues of an organized front, Andrew realized something about the Wolves. They were able to jump dimensions but could only do so from solid ground. That was how they had became trapped in the small universe. They had no land from which to leap. Their enemy certainly was clever and Andrew hoped he'd never have to face that particular God (if that's what it was).
"... so then, are you ready to go?" Andy asked.
"Ready," he replied, and rose into the air to make sure he had plenty of room.
As he rose, Andrew looked around himself at the warriors. They were all, each and every one, the souls of children. Most were not human, but he could sense their youth and innocence nonetheless. He collected himself and opened a doorway. The Order of Healing, becoming a swirling mass of hope, began spiraling into Hell.
... and the clouds continued weeping, falling to the Earth below.
Before jumping with them, he stole one last glance at the Earth below... and through the rain, saw a newly formed group of lakes, full of life, in the shape of giant paw prints.
Then off to hell he went.
Hell was in utter chaos as Leviathan hung motionless above.
A call shot out through the Labyrinth. Everyone was to get within view of Leviathan, and were to bring every weapon possible. Souls were hastily secured as the Order of the Gash readied itself for war. Within a few minutes, there was a mass of Cenobites, Guardians, and various other denizens of Hell along the top of the maze. Millions of glistening eyes stared up at their god, waiting for a sign.
Leviathan started to turn. Slowly but surely, it began to spin again, a sound like fingers on chalkboard echoing through Hell.
... and every mind was filled with the voice of their god...
DESTROY THEM.
Then the sky ripped open, and through it, came...
... the Wolves of the Water.
As soon as they appeared they started to growl, their thunder rolling across the sky. They moved out in a circle around Leviathan, keeping their distance. As they passed through clouds, a bright flash of light, not unlike heat lightning, traveled out away from them. The clouds turned dark and moved in towards Leviathan, lightning flashing to the maze below.
A few seconds later, a bright light appeared in the distance, and the Order of Healing spilled through, followed soon after by Andrew.
Hell's winged took to the air, as the ones on the ground began to hurl weapons up at the many new dots in the sky.
"What are they doing here?" Andrew shouted to Andy, who hovered within earshot.
"I don't know."
A winged Cenobite came up in front of Andy. A long spear erupted from its chest. Andy barely got out of the way and then flew right at the Cenobite. He hit it full on and clamped his hand onto its face. A shock went through it and suddenly, it was a normal man, who fell to the maze below...
... into one of the many Cenobite creation chambers that had risen from the depths, which swallowed him and immediately started to change him back into the spear-shooting Cenobite that he was.
Andrew was attacked by another Cenobite who was being carried by a gnarled, four-winged dog. Andrew just opened a doorway behind them and shoved them through, healing both as he pushed.
The battle had begun. All around him, Hell was engaging the invaders, in the air and on the ground. There was not an organized volley anywhere. It was millions of one on one confrontations, a immense mixture of hope and hate, of compassion and wickedness, and Hell was the home team, and benefited from having the maze below. It was able to take its beaten, redo them, and send that back into the fray. The Order of Healing was slowly losing.
Above it all, stalking through the battle filled air around them, were the Wolves.
They said Leviathan wasn't around yet when they were tricked into that other dimension. What are they up to?
MAKE THEM LEAVE, came the voice of the pup. THIS IS OUR BATTLE.
What? I thought you said you weren't going to...
NOW!
I can't. I just open doorways, I don't run the show.
WE WILL DESTROY THIS GOD OURSELVES. ONCE THAT IS DONE, WE CAN ATTACK THE OLD ENEMY.
What? I don't get...
He felt the pup's mind turn away, back towards Leviathan. He was not going to be getting any more answers. He flew over to Andy, who had just dispatched another of Hell's army.
"The Wolves want us out of here. They are taking on Leviathan on their own and we'll only get in the way."
"No! We've waited far too long for this! Besides, if the Wolves destroy Leviathan, we'll need to be here to collect the souls and get them to safety. Otherwise they will fall into the maze below and who knows what will happen to them."
The white wolf lunged at Leviathan and nipped at the one of the corners, quickly pulling back (smashing and knocking aside many of both orders). The other wolves began to join in. Everywhere they stepped, the maze became liquid, but as they lifted their paws, it reverted back to what it was. The new life that was made fell squealing into the maze. Creation chambers were waiting for them as well.
One of the sides of Leviathan began to open up.
"Oh, shit!" yelled Andrew. "Andy watch out! Leviathan is going to..."
The black beam shot out, and right into the white wolf's face.
It let out a roar that shook Hell and everyone in it as it went up on its hind legs. It violently pawed at the beam, but after a few seconds it fell forward, crashing down onto the maze.
A cheer rose from the Labyrinth as Hell began to swarm over its body, stabbing and cutting it viciously.
The dark wolf with red eyes came next at Leviathan, but this time got up on its back feet and slammed its front paws into it. It reached down and bit, pulling a large chunk of metal from it. It quickly shot back and flung the metal where it crashed miles away, taking out an entire army of black, elephant-sized spiders that were coming along the top of the maze.
That's what Andrew saw anyway. The spiders saw a dark, thick chunk of skin blot out the sky before they died.
The Order of Healing wasted no time. It started diving into Leviathan and pulling out souls (the ones that didn't spill out on their own).
The wolves all let out a howl which shook the Labyrinth to its core and then leaping right up on top of the god, started taking out pieces before jumping off.
The black beam lashed out again and again from the new openings, and caught many of the Order of Healing in its swath. They fell from the sky, singed black and smoking.
Andrew suddenly felt a sense of deja vu. He looked down and saw all the Cenobites and newly healed people running around below. Some people were trying to escape, some were willingly jumping into creation chambers. At this distance, however, it reminded him of the dream he had the night before his 'awakening' as he was looking over the grove.
There was one Cenobite standing still looking right up at him.
Copulas.
She just stood there staring.
A woman slammed into her as she was trying to escape another Cenobite. Copulas grabbed her and snapped both her arms before throwing her over the edge of the maze, into a creation chamber that closed on the woman like a Venus-flytrap and then disappeared below.
Andrew let out a roar, forgetting the remembered dream and dove straight at her. An instant before he struck her, he shot out massive wings and came to a stop two feet above her head. She had swung at him and just barely missed, but now was off balance. He reached out and grabbed her, sending his healing powers as well as a doorway opening charge into her.
Copulas clenched her teeth and, glaring at him, successfully resisted both. She then swung up at him and nailed him in his surprised face.
"Never again!" she shouted and shoved him into the waiting creation chamber that had risen up behind him.
Doors snapped shut and the chamber descended rapidly. Needles and arms plunged into him, trying to fill him with some vile, lifeless liquid. Time to jump...
Nothing.
Andrew quickly made himself as malleable as he could and shut off his nerves, expelling what the chamber had put in him. He began searching with his mind for a way out. There was none. The chamber was too tightly sealed. He sensed nothing but machinery in his close proximity, and he could still feel the battle above.
The Wolves were winning.
Damn them! They messed it all up. So many members of the Order are being destroyed and all because they couldn't wait, or fight in an organized fashion... one in which the Order could have found a weakness to exploit... but they are here to help... they only care for themselves and... need to be destroyed, as Leviathan commands... as I want to save Thomas... so he can be put back... in Hell... what's wrong... with... me...
The doors of the chamber slid open, and out onto the maze stepped a pale blue Cenobite. One who knew the secrets of Shaping and of Opening. It wanted to make its father proud. In honor of his memory, lines of light appeared around its head and then contracted. The light faded, leaving a grid work of gashes in his skin, and a long, metal pin imbedded at each intersection.
The one who pushed me into the creation chamber is gone. The battle is not going well. Perhaps she fled. I can turn the tide... for I am the way... look at them... gone to Hell's heaven...
A man ran by and the Cenobite reached out and caught him. When the man looked up at him (he was squinting as if he was trying to get used to the light), he screamed and desperately tried to pull away. The Cenobite searched the man's mind. He had been pulled out of Leviathan by one of the Order of Healing, and had to be set down as his savior had been attacked and severely wounded.
"We have... such... sights... to show you... Larry Cotton," said the Cenobite. He then reached out with his hand towards the man's face. He thought how appropriate he'd look with mouths for eyes...
He was struck from behind by something warm and the man was knocked from his grasp.
It was Andy. He bore into the Cenobite, infusing him with his own life energy. It quickly spread through the Cenobite's system as he stood up. Flashes of Andrew's memories ran through his mind.
Who is this Andrew? Ah, he is a brother of mine for we share the same father. He chooses to aid Earth and the Order of Healing. He is not well. He needs reconditioning. But why would one need that if they were already... on the side... of good... I... remember...
"I... remember... who... I... am!" and with that, the air was suddenly sprayed with a blue liquid as Andrew fell to his knees screaming. The man named Larry lay still on the ground, afraid to move.
Andy was gone. He had given himself to bring Andrew back. Andrew reached over and put his hand on Larry's leg, healed anything that was damaged, and sent him back to Earth.
Andrew pulled himself to his feet and turned to look up at Leviathan, the echoes of his and his father's voice still echoing in his mind. There wasn't much left of the puzzle box god, with pieces of Leviathan laying all around. There were huge ones miles and miles across, as well as much, much smaller ones. It looked very much like a garbage dump, piles and piles of broken machinery. Clouds had swarmed the area, a light rain falling as they sought to wash the liquids of Hell away, or so he guessed...
He decided he would try to communicate with the clouds of Earth, once he got back... and thinking of the clouds, he searched for the Wolves.
The wolf pup was all that remained of the Wolves of the Water. The rest lay dead around the area. The pup was nudging the one with green eyes. It then let a lonely howl into the sky, forcing a tear out of anyone who heard it, no matter which side they were on, for the lonely wail of a god can pull sympathy from the coldest of hearts...
The battle was still going on, even though both Orders had seriously diminished in numbers. Hell was vast, and more and more combatants were coming from all over, races that had never been anywhere near Leviathan, nor cared to be, but followed its dictums nonetheless. They had been tending to their own outlying regions and hadn't gotten the call to arms soon enough.
That wasn't all, however. Apparently, other dimensions also heard, and enemies of Leviathan were poring in. Puzzles were solved and in came more and more races, intent on taking out the Labyrinth itself...
Andrew guessed the after affects of the war would last for ages, as wars tended to. All he knew was his part was done. Although he wasn't there for the final clash, he had been its greatest facilitator...
... and for a short while, he had been a Cenobite. He shuddered to think of what he would have done if not for Andy's sacrifice.
He suddenly noticed that there was still something of Leviathan floating in the air. He couldn't see it through the clouds, but he sensed it just the same.
It was a single mind.
Perhaps it was the first soul Leviathan consumed. Andrew took to the air and headed towards it, wondering if he had power enough to heal a soul that had been trapped at the center of the god of Hell.
Hell had fallen, but it was not completely destroyed.
In the dimensions where it had spread, each portal snapped shut. The damned rose up and in most cases, destroyed their tormentors. In the rest, their dark rulers declared their dimension as the new Hell. They vowed to rebuild and someday take back the Old Hell, as it soon was called, if and when they were able to open the doorway. Until then, they would not trust in high and mighty gods, but instead kept the command structure dispersed. These many Hells diversified, and were the stronger for it.
It was the intention of the Order of Healing to free each dimension, once it had healed and rebuilt. That was a long way off as very few members survived that day, and those that did were in no shape to go anywhere but the creation pools of home.
... and a few of Hell's upper class survived, having sensed their god's end, and went into hiding.
"This is the Seraphim, on approach to Mars outpost Clibar. Requesting permission to land. Over."
"Mars outpost Clibar here. Permission granted... What took you jokers so long? We were expecting those condensers hours ago. Over."
"We ran into a hell of a problem, but we think we've got things back on track. Over."
"Well hurry up and get down here. We've got a ton of stuff to unload and night's coming. Over."
"Roger that Clibar. Seraphim out."
As soon as the channel closed, Copulas pulled the bleeding man from the console and ripped off a large chunk of his skin. He screamed and passed out. He had believed her promise that if he delivered the message the way she wanted, she would kill him quickly. Promises were but a tool to her, but a very useful one. She dragged him by the hair to a locker in the back and tossed him into it.
She turned to other Cenobites standing in the command center, the locker door slamming behind her.
"Now we begin."
Soon, the ship's air mixed with that of the outpost, followed closely by sharp new screams.
Andrew steadily climbed up in the air as he headed toward the mind in the sky where Leviathan had been.
Someone was still suffering. He couldn't make out who it was, but he sensed it was below him, and closer. He headed back down.
It was Thomas! He was laying in a hollow, bowl-shaped piece of Leviathan, which was partially filled with a dark liquid. His mind was a mess. Even after all these centuries however, there was still some innocence in there. A sense of wonder, small but sure, remained intact at the core of his being. This was why he was 'chosen', becoming part of the god itself.
Andrew landed softly a few feet away and took a deep breath. He mustered everything he had, trying to remember Thomas the way he was before he had been taken, the way he remembered him from his own visits to the Willowby building back before...
Such a turning point, and Andrew had woke up that day, talked to Sheriff Burke, rubbed his eyes, and drove to his destiny. The deer with the glowing eyes. The one that seemed to be warning him. The dream where he was promised he'd bring Hell to Earth. He was the baby in the cradle, which the box had been on. The old man was his father. Now it all made sense.
All the hurt began to swell, a bruise cut open. His own fear. His own pain... Mr. Deem, who had given him a piece, a very miniscule piece, of what Thomas had went through, locking him up in the darkness for what seemed eternity. The click of the lock on the wooden chest sending him into a wood-scraping panic.
Andrew had stood up to Mr. Deem, which no one else had dared. The courage was always in him, and it had served so well in this. He thought how ironic it was, just how much those childhood battles set the stage for the adult dramas. Perhaps that had been what had forced him to take on Leviathan, rather than play it safe. If tiny, weak little Andrew could stand up to Mr. Deem, and then live to see him taken down, perhaps a seed had been planted all those tears ago. A powerful little seed that grew into something that even fate could not weed.
He remembered feeling like he had died and went to Hell, and that he would be forgotten in that chest. One day someone would open it and finding a skeleton, ask 'Why would someone keep a skeleton in here?' But the light would always eventually shine in, and although he hated that man, he would feel grateful despite himself, and hope beyond hope that it was over, and for good...
He reached out and put his hand on Thomas. His hand was glowing bright white. Thomas floated up into the air, his wrinkled and scarred face clearing, his wretched and contorted body healing, his tiny bright light of hope growing... and more importantly, his memory of Hell fading.
Andrew had really done it. The god of hell was dead. He had vowed to destroy whatever power would do what had been done to Thomas, and it had happened.
A small smile crossed Thomas's face. He opened his eyes and looked at Andrew, his smile growing more.
"Are... are... you an angel?"
Andrew said 'yes' without thinking...
... and added that he was his guardian angel.
One day, Thomas would learn the truth, but for now, Andrew would play the part... and then quite suddenly, he wanted more than anything to be the real thing, to follow Thomas forever, keeping him from harm. For some strange reason, he felt he owed him that. The desire burned so hot he swore he felt a real fire inside him. The feeling only increased. Just when he was about to open himself up to let the heat out, a wave of energy shot through his system. It was his compassion and sense of responsibility. It had erupted outwards and it ignited a new fire along the way.
In the wreckage of Leviathan, Andrew's fire leaped into Thomas.
Thomas glowed for a minute, as his system adapted, as his soul adapted. He was more than healed, he was perfected, as much as a human can be.
Andrew then decided to pass along everything that had happened, saving Thomas's part for last. Thomas' brow furrowed, and his eyes grew dark. He sprouted wings and pushed back out of Andrew's arms.
"And this is where we are now? In Hell?"
"Yes."
Thomas turned and looked at the piece of Leviathan he had been in. He reached down and picked it up, pouring out the black, oily liquid. He then crumpled the piece like it was paper and he squeezed it between his hands until it exploded, and waited for the dust to settle. He spun around and looked at Andrew, his eyes becoming normal again.
They looked at each other for what seemed an age, Andrew waiting patiently for Thomas' next move.
Thomas suddenly grabbed Andrew in the strongest, warmest hug he'd ever felt. Thomas looked up at Andrew and smiled. Andrew nodded.
"I'll be along soon." said Andrew and then Thomas popped out of sight.
A few deep breaths later, Andrew took back to the air.
The pup started to growl.
As Andrew rose, he caught a glimpse of something shiny. Whatever it was, it was spinning. As he neared it, the pup came through the surrounding clouds, its teeth bared, its eyes bright blue stars. It was moving slowly as if it were stalking the turning object.
Andrew came out into an open area. The clouds were swirling around the center. It was the eye of a hurricane.
Andrew also saw full on what it was that had been at the center of the god. It was a black and polished sphere about a quarter mile across. It was moving and changing. Cutting instruments would suddenly come out of it and then get pulled back in. The wolf bit at the air and growled even louder, the shock of it pushing clouds away (and nearly Andrew).
This seemed to have an effect. The mind suddenly became razor sharp and shoved Andrew's away. Andrew barely stayed conscious from the shock of it, but held his ground. It was he and the pup facing Leviathan's core.
A black chain shot out of it to the ground below. It snagged a large metal cube of which one side was curved inward. the piece was pulled up and onto the sphere. Another chain shot out and hooked a moon-shaped piece and pulled it up as well.
It was trying to rebuild itself.
"Oh no you don't!" Andrew shouted and, putting up the strongest mental block he could, flew at the sphere. He was met by a black spear that shot right through him, and continued out over the Labyrinth behind him. He grabbed the moon-shaped piece and pulled as hard as he could, trying to rip it away from the sphere. It felt like it had been welded to it. He increased his muscles and with a snap, it gave. He tossed it behind him and defiantly glared at the sphere, his own twisted reflection glared back.
The wolf wasn't coming any closer.
What is wrong?
The pup's voice again filled his head, though this time it was soaked with loss.
IT DESTROYED MY FAMILY. THE OLD ENEMY HAS NEARLY WON.
This is the old enemy? Leviathan? I thought you...
THAT WHICH YOU CALLED LEVIATHAN WAS JUST ITS OUTER SELF. WE DID NOT RECOGNIZE IT FROM WHAT WAS IN YOUR MIND.
Outer shell?
THIS IS THE SOURCE. THE OLD ENEMY. WE ARE PART OF CREATION, AND THE OLD ENEMY IS PART OF THE END...
IT'S ALL MY DOING.
Your doing? How did...
THIS WAS OUR HOME. WE'VE ALWAYS BEEN HERE. OCCASIONALLY, WE RAN THROUGH THE MANY UNIVERSES, CHASING AND PLAYING, FILLING PUDDLES WITH... YOU. I RAN AFTER THE DARK ONE, FOR IT SEEMED PLAYFUL FOR ONCE. IT JUMPED, I JUMPED AND THEN THAT'S HOW YOU FOUND ME.
But the others...
CONCERNED PARENTS, THEY FOLLOWED.
... and became trapped themselves. And this thing began to build itself into Leviathan.
YES.
But if it's a god...
I DO NOT KNOW WHY IT CHOSE THIS. I DON'T CARE TO GUESS. IT JUST NEEDS TO BE DESTROYED.
Why don't you?
BELOW LIES THE...
The sphere suddenly dropped straight down. The wolf snapped at it, but did not move any closer. As it fell, it wound itself up and became smaller and smaller. Clouds quickly got out of the way, revealing a grove of trees below. The trees were very large, mountains of branches and leaves.
As the sphere fell (and shrunk), it also took a specific form - a dark snake with many legs and wings. It disappeared into a one of the trees. He hadn't noticed them, since they were shrouded in clouds, but what scared Andrew the most about the trees were that he hadn't even sensed them.
...a snake and a tree? Wait a minute. A snake and a tree. This is the Bible. This would be...
WHAT YOU WOULD CALL EDEN, came the voice of the pup.
Andrew's mind reeled. He felt light-headed and struggled to adapt to this truth... if that's what it was.
But you aren't mentioned anywhere in our Bible.
DOES ONE OF YOUR KIND EVER KNOW IT ALL?
...uh, no.
IT IS NOW IN THE TREE, WHERE IT HID WHILE WE WERE HERE.
Who made the tree?
I DON'T KNOW. I CAME LATER. THE OLD ONES WOULD HAVE KNOWN. THE BEAST BELOW MIGHT KNOW...
Can't you...
I CANNOT TOUCH THE TREE. IT GIVES LIFE ETERNAL AND IT IS MORE THAN US. WE GUARDED IT AS IT WAS OUR DOMAIN. I DON'T KNOW WHICH ONE OF US WAS FIRST. BUT I DO REMEMBER WHEN THE BEAST CAME. IT SPOILED IT ALL.
I saw you remake our planet, can't you do the same here?
NO. IT WAS ALL OF US THAT COULD DO THAT. NOW THERE IS JUST ME...
... I'VE GOT TO WAIT FOR IT TO COME OUT, AND I WILL NOT BE TRICKED AGAIN.
The pup disappeared back into the clouds. Then Andrew saw it as it went down into a crouch, and slowly dropped down all the way, until its belly rested on the maze. Its eyes focusing on the tree.
... and the clouds moved off as the wind picked up. A mountain of a tree appeared, as did another, and another, and another. They formed a large grove, and in the center, was a lake. The lake of many colors. Andrew wanted so much to fly down and see how it felt to swim in it. It was almost irresistible. Still, there was the.... snake, or was it the...
Serpent.
According to the Bible, there were two trees, not four. There was no mention of wolves, or a lake. Then again, Leviathan wasn't there either.
The Tree of Knowledge and the Tree of Life. The other two... Love and Hate? Dreams and... something else?
He looked to the wolf and asked with his mind. No answer. The pup just stared at the trees. It looked to stay a mystery.
One tree briefly shook. The wolf again began to growl. Andrew started to back away.
Down below, he saw a small white creature, a dog with an elephant's trunk. It was also making its way through the wreckage and heading towards the tree. He reached with his mind to see what it was doing.
... home. You can go home. I will send you. You needn't be worried, or frightened again. Home. It's waiting...
Andrew dove at it as fast as he could and scooped it up. He heard a roar from the trees and something stuck its head out. A black, shiny snake's head, and it was hissing at him. It suddenly turned towards the wolf, and went back in, but not before it spoke. Its voice was a million shadowy whispers, going in and out of unison.
"One day, little sore. I shall rebuild. I shall be waiting. I shall dine on you... forever."
Andrew sent the small creature back to its own dimension, and stared at the tree, the beast having retreated.
"Why?!" he shouted, not expecting to hear anything.
"I would imagine it doesn't even know."
Andrew spun around, and looked into his father's face, shadowy and shimmering, but there just the same. It was his human face, his true face.
"Father?"
"Yes, Andrew, it's me. Now that Leviathan is gone, spirits can get in here. There are more on the way. A lot more."
All around Andrew more souls appeared. It was like lights slowly being turned up behind thin curtains. Thin curtains with portraits painted onto them. They were forming a circle around the trees. A circle of souls waving in some ethereal breeze.
The Serpent roared and thrashed, and the souls did not get closer. In its thrashing, something cracked. It sounded like a branch.
Water began to flow out between two trees. It was small, but steady. A tiny, multi-colored, creek. It went to the edge of the dirt, where the maze started, and tumbled over the side.
A few seconds later, the maze in that area began to dissolve. The water was now flowing down a long, steep hill.
The maze was being converted to plants and land, and the effect went out through Hell, which widened as it went.
The pup got up and walked around the grove towards it, keeping its eyes focused on the trees. Once it got to the small creek, it stepped off the maze into the garden.
It dropped again, but this time the water ran under it. Its blue eyes flashed once and then a bright glow erupted from under it. This glow spread out and also dissolved the maze, but at a much greater speed, and spread throughout Hell.
The glow disappeared off into the distance and around behind the grove. Now, Hell was a garden, with the grove of trees up high on a hill. Andrew sighed and turned back to Eliot's spirit...
... a roar shot out from the trees and the Serpent came at him. It was a dark blur and Andrew barely had time to once again make himself malleable. It didn't matter, for instead of the Serpent, it was quite suddenly a giant Mr. Deem coming at him. The shock of this hadn't fully registered when the Serpent hit him. He felt the blow, not in his body, but in his soul. The Serpent then continued on past him, out into Hell as the Labyrinth finished becoming the Garden. Souls were already flowing into its many meadows, but froze as the black beast flew overhead, skimming the tree tops. If any came into its sight, black chains shot out and claimed them, pulling them up and into the roiling mass.
The wolf came right behind it, its foot prints becoming lakes and its growl shaking every new tree and plant.
The Serpent jumped out of Hell/Eden and the wolf soon followed.
They ended up in the water sphere...
... and on a kind of coral reef.
The Serpent jumped, realizing quickly what it meant, and the wolf hit the coral, and jumped out as well.
There was nowhere for the beast to trap the pup, so it started jumping and running as fast as it could, but the wolf was two steps behind. The Serpent realized too late that leaving the trees had sealed its fate.
Andrew was dying, and all around him, he could sense joy. The escaped souls were flying through the trees and the water and the dirt. New souls were flooding in and joining them. There was a yellow sun in the sky and it shone so bright. He was feeling tired and just wanted to take a nap.
His mind began to drift. He noticed that the bodies of the four dead Wolves of the Water had broken down, but not into mush, instead they became lakes, lakes full of boundless life. A fitting end, he thought, to be a lake in Eden. Again, he began to feel extremely tired.
One quick nap, then I can join the fun. I so want to join the fun... Mr. Deem was so mean, cutting me like that. Oh... my father is here. Hi... dad?... is it okay if I call you dad?... thanks... umm... if you're a ghost... how can you... cry?... thank you... for holding me... I never thought... I would get that... not in a million... tears...
The glowing in Andrew was blinding, and it began spilling into the ground. The plants underneath began to glow just as bright, and they quickly sprouted from the dirt, pushing Andrew into the sky as his body began to fade. Eliot was there, holding what he could, and became his son's shimmering shroud.
The bush had grown to a few feet high...
... and then Andrew's body broke apart, and flowers opened up where he died. His father had hung on and soon joined his son, both them and the plants became one.
The plants continued to grow, wrapping around each other in such a way that it more resembled a tree trunk than a bush. Within minutes, it grew to a towering height, the same height as the four trees in the center.
The ever-changing tree that was born that day would become the most popular place in what became known as New Eden. It was said that two true heroes, a parent and child, made up its bright soul. It was named the Tree of Family. It became famous for its exotic blooms, of which nothing could compare, and of which no two were ever the same. It was also said that to look upon it was to be healed, and no one who did so was unchanged... or unmoved. Everyone who gazed on it felt a link to whoever stood nearby, whether from the same parents, or the same race, or even the same dimension.
A fitting end, to be such a tree in New Eden.
In all fairness, Hell had just changed form that day, as it had done so many time before. Its recent shape of mazes and pain had given way to gardens and love. As with any change, it was praised by some, and decried by others. Its citizens had been given the chance to leave, to go where they originally came from, and some had taken it. This happens at every Changing.
The pup would chase the beast across countless realms, their drama creating countless others, as the beast shed deception and lies, and pup infusing those droppings with life. Each place would produce beings who would spend eternity caught between the two halves of their nature, the urge to create and move on, or to grind those creations under the weight of their heels.
In the end, it wasn't so much the choice one made, but what one was willing to do to achieve it... For if Hell could be made into Eden, as Eden had been made into Hell, then anyone, anywhere, could change their world as well...
... the end ...
Hellraiser © 1998 Miramax Films.