_ _ ___ _ _ __ / |_| /\ |_) | |_ |_) / o \_ | | /--\ | | |_ | \ / o ___ _ _ __ __ _ _ _ ___ _ __ _ _ _ | |_| |_ | \ /\ /__ /__ |_ |_) /\ |\ | | \ | |_| |_ (_ \ / / \ |_) | \ | | | |_ |_/ /--\ \_| \_| |_ | \ /--\ | \| |_/ | | | |_ __) \/\/ \_/ | \ |_/
I heard Michael sigh.
“You knew. You knew all of this would happen.” I spoke, shaking with anger, “I really don’t matter at all to you, don’t I? I didn’t expect you to, but to treat me like some kind of fucking… like some kind of fucking pawn.”
“I’m giving up my life for this and you don’t even respect me for it.” My face was flushed, tears were streaming down my cheeks as I shook violently in bed, unable to do anything but feel my hopelessness and pent up emotion.
I felt myself start to choke, releasing every sob I kept swallowing down. For one of the only times in my life… I let myself cry like a bitch. I had my eyes slammed shut with my head against the palms of my hands, my fingers curled around my skull and gripping my hair. Snot dripped down onto the sheets mixing with my tears and saliva. My eyes were burning, feeling dry and salty from dehydration, but I kept crying rivers of pain.
“Life is such a sick joke, and it's all made worse by the fact there really is a God. That. That all this pain. This anger. This misery I carry, it’s apart of someone’s shitty fucking plan. That everyone I’ve known was right. They always were. It doesn’t matter if I’m drunk, sober, or high. It doesn’t matter if I’m clean or cutting, none of this does. I’m.. I’m just a fucking Loser. I was created to lose everything, and die.”
“Not even you respect me, and you’re the closest thing to God I’ll see, so what does that say, huh? What does that fucking say?!” I cried out.
Silence.
I sunk into myself slowly in defeat.
“I don’t give a damn about eternity. Or anything of the afterlife. I just wanted someone in my life to love me unconditionally. I wanted a mom. I wanted a dad. I wanted a brother. I wanted a friend.”
“But I have nothing.”
Silence.
“I’m lonely too.” I suddenly heard faintly, I couldn’t even be sure if I heard it.
“...?” I blinked, “Huh..?”
“I said I’m lonely too.” Michael spoke, saying clearly with reluctance.
“You’re a fuckin angel how could you ever be-”
“I have nothing but the past and the will of The Father.” He growled. I kept quiet.
“I may be the only one in your current lifetime to recognize your pain.” He said, voice glitching.
“There’s no winning sides during war, I lost everything to be a hero.”
“I lost everything, because I was made to lose.”
I looked up slowly, listening.
“Our Father knew everything that was, is, and will be. That is a fact. One not even I know how to cope with.” He spoke slowly, saying the last part more quietly than the rest.
“I know what it’s like to be the loser, I know what it’s like to lose all you have in the name of being righteous.”
“I. Don’t understand.” I said, shaking my head, still overwhelmed. I still felt nothing but the urge to scream until my lungs exploded. Bursted. Popped, even.
“My brother was the favorite, and we were twins. He turned his back on me, and I had to cast him out. I was labelled a champion, a hero, but none of them knew Michael. They only knew The Sword Of God.” He seemed uncomfortable telling me this, but had forced himself to speak it anyway as clearly as he could.
I gripped my shirt’s sleeves, “but I’m the one who turned his back on my brother when he needed me the most.” I cried.
“Mine tells me that's what I did.”
We sat in each other’s silence for a while, I still cried, but at the very least it was more quiet.
“Even then, you’re dying for him in his most desperate moment. You’re dying for all of humanity, if Lucifer’s doing what I think he is, and you’re being rewarded with Paradise for it, you never turned your back.”
“All that sounds like to me is an eternity of loneliness.” I said bluntly.
Silence.
“... Michael? Are you still there?” I said, a little panicked.
“I won’t let you be lonely.” He said, his voice wavering.
“What, are you pitying me?” I slightly huffed.
“I’m pitying us both.”
Those words hit me like daggers, and for the rest of my Sunday night, I wept to his faint presence.
______________________________________________________________________________
It had been a few days since that fucked up night, Michael had stopped breathing down my neck so much and I’ve spent most days trying to somehow recover enough to keep working to get rid of Lucifer. I’d spend a lot of my days in my room, or doing regular people things like schoolwork to try and shove it down or away. I’d cry at night, or wake up terrified. Sometimes I couldn’t even sleep, because all I could see behind my eyelids or in the corners of the dark were him. It was getting unbearable being sober, but I had to keep going. I didn’t have a choice to be selfish. Not anymore.
Today was the day I had to meet up with Kasey again. I had to review the footage before then to confirm or deny if the camcorder was worth anything. Michael kept telling me knowing what he did on Sunday, even if it was nothing special, was better than absolutely nothing… but I was terrified. I was scared of what I’d see, and scared of what I wouldn’t. How would I cope if it was nothing, or something so fucked up I can’t even comprehend it?
I wasn’t sure what to do.
“Michael, I need help.” I said in between puffs of smoke.
“Yes?” He responded swiftly.
“I can’t look at the camcorder. I know I have to but I just can’t. I can’t. Please help me.” I said flatly, but desperately. I was too tired to feel any real emotion besides desperation and numbness.
He was quiet for a bit, before responding, “I can take your body over and review the footage, you’d hardly remember a thing. You just need to let go in order for me to do it.” He sighed.
“Let go? How the Hell am I supposed to let go?” I said, a bit confused, I inhaled another sip on my cigarette, “can’t you just take over my damn body?” I said, smoke pouring out of my mouth.
He was quiet.
“Well??” I growled slightly.
“I’ll give you a hand.” He said, before I could even respond I suddenly felt like some sort of plug in my brain was pulled.
Black.
I blinked, hearing the noise of a camera shutter. I looked around in mild confusion, but complete euphoria. It felt like both just a moment, and an eternity.
I gasped, looking around, I was back in my room holding the camera. I looked down to see the entire footage was watched, and it had been a couple hours.
“What the fuck just happened??” I said, looking around in shock.
“I unplugged you, then plugged in myself, before plugging you back in.” Michael said, as if that shit made any fucking sense.
“I watched all the footage.”
I ignored whatever the plugging nonsense was for now, “what was it? What are we working with??” I said, gritting my teeth nervously.
“We gots a scoop.”
His joking tone and demeanor calmed me down a bit, I felt my body loosen a little.
“Damien cuts his right arm open in front of a mirror, and then immediately the wound closes and the blood vanishes.” He said bluntly.
“He.. he What??” I said in complete disbelief, pulling up the footage and going through it until I saw it for myself.
I watched him through the camera. He had taken a large razor, similar to the one I saw all those nights ago, and sliced his arm open from the wrist to the forearm. He poured his onspilling blood out in front of a mirror, and I saw it light up and disappear.
I sat there aghast.
I forced myself to question everything later, I needed to focus on the bigger issue.
“How am I supposed to present this to Kasey?” I said, breaking up the silence. I was stumped, I didn’t know how to make any sense of this, how do I expect someone with virtually no experience in any of this to react? How do I know she’s not gonna think I faked the footage somehow to fuck with her?
“Just do it after she presents to us whatever she finds, she shouldn’t get involved anyways if she doesn’t believe us or the footage.” Michael said bluntly.
I sat there quietly, looking through the footage again and again, trying to figure out some kind of game plan. I can’t just show this to her and expect her to accept it, let alone ditch her for that. No, I had to be smart.
I thought about it for a long while, before finally coming to a conclusion on what had to be done.
______________________________________________________________________________
I found myself walking down a hallway, below me was a rugged floor with a muted brown-red clay-like color; followed by yellow and black abstract patterns that repeated from the start to the end of the hall; I found it pretty damn ugly. The walls of this place were off white, with stock images in frames to make the walls seem less empty next to the dark brown, heavy wooden doors. Every door was labelled with a number, illuminated overly bright with yellowed lights in these half-sphere shapes on the ceiling. I felt my feet thump against the floor, I could feel the vibrations go through likely to someone else’s ceiling; marking just how thin these walls all were. I could hear a bit of muffled arguing in one of the rooms that I tried to ignore as I pulled out my phone.
I inputted the 6 digit numeral code swiftly entirely through muscle memory as I kept looking right ahead of me, checking each apartment number as I went to my text messages scrolling to find the apartment number. Apt. 145, that’s where I needed to be. I stopped suddenly in my tracks and turned around, grunting under my breath since I passed it already a little while ago.
Kasey and I decided to meet up at her dorms this time, that way we had a lot more privacy to tell each other whatever the hell we wanted without dealing with some shmuck who wanted to give us funny looks or worse. I adjusted my jacket as I stopped in front of her door, giving a light knock and double checking the number. I looked around anxiously, before my eyes fell towards a fingerprint smudge on my glasses that had been pissing me off for a few hours now. Then, I heard the locks click before the door squeaked open, in clear need of WD-40.
I scratched the back of my head. “Hey.” I said, giving an awkward smile.
She looked slightly upwards at me, meeting eyes. “Hey, thanks for stopping by.” She smiled, opening the door a bit more signalling for me to enter, and so I did.
“It’s no problem,” I replied, walking in slowly looking around a bit, “do you want me to take my shoes off?” I asked.
“I don’t care what you do, man, my place is a mess anyway.” She smiled, giving a chuckle.
She wasn’t really wrong, her place sort of reminded me of how mine is. It’s not exactly filthy, or gross, just disorganized. A clear lack of care on how somebody may perceive you, or just not used to visitors; for me it’s always been a mix of both, so I can’t judge, not like I would.
I made my way towards her couch and took a seat, adjusting myself awkwardly. I slipped my backpack off along with my jacket, stretching and getting comfortable. She took a seat next to me holding a folder; I looked at it with curiosity, wondering what could be inside.
“So, how’s your search been? Find anything interesting we could use?” She made eye contact with me, setting the folder next to her. She crossed her legs and arms, leaning back to get comfortable as well.
“Yeah actually, I did. Did you?” I said, trying to get the attention back onto her so she’d reveal her information first, just to be safe, y’know?
She picked up the folder next to her, “I did, too. I found some interesting stuff actually, wanna see?” I nodded, and she started to open up the folder pulling out what seemed to be documents carefully. “It’s not that much, at least I don’t think, but it could help, it’s definitely a start.” She said, looking through the papers.
She then pulled one out and showed it to me, I blinked, trying to grasp what I was looking at. I leaned in closer to get a better look, and I noticed they were copies of government documents; at least I think. They were investigations done by some kind of organization I’ve never even heard of before, The Anti-Apocalypse Bureau, or The AAB.
“The AAB… what the hell is that?” I muttered, looking up at her. She looked at me and shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, Google searches give me nothing, not unless I dig real deep, but these are official government documents..”
“What, are they some kind of disbanded organization that worked with the government??” I made brief eye contact with her, trying to make sense of this.
“Maybe, but the name makes absolutely no sense if that’s the case..” She sighed, I was looking through the papers to actually read the investigations better, and realized these were homicide investigations. People being crucified and buried alive underground. I felt my heart drop.
“The even stranger part is I actually found this, some kind of gibberish letter with the seal on it, and it's the most recent date left of this place. There seems to be some kind of an email attached but it doesn’t work when I try inputting it into anything… Are you okay?” She looked at me, noticing I went pale.
“The crucifixion.” I said in a bit of shock, she blinked at me a little, “yeah… I felt sick reading that, too, uhm, the more we find the more this really does feel like a cult.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s. These are people who I knew.” I felt my throat tighten a little, but I forced myself to suck it up and swallow down. She looked at me with a bit of dread.
“You… knew these people?” She said, in complete surprise, I looked at her. “I was always told they fucking moved away. It was odd, because moving was looked down upon and all, but I was just a kid I never questioned that shit.” I slightly growled, feeling my face get hot with a bit of anger. I was lied to my entire life. Kids my age, neighbors, teachers, all sorts of people. Murdered. Murdered brutally. I felt sick.
We sat in silence for a long while, both clearly trying to process how fucked this all was, before she broke the silence.
“I… I really hate.” She started, voice cracking, “I really hate being right.” She finally spat out, looking almost haunted.
“We grew up in a cult. A cult that has something to do with Lucifer.” I growled, I didn’t care about what I was going to reveal now. No, fuck this, if I’m gonna die I’m taking all those bastards down with me, I’m dragging those zealots to fucking Hell.
She looked over at me with a puzzled expression, “Lucifer? Like The Devil? What does he have to do with anything?” She said, confused but calm, recognizing I was clearly very emotionally charged right now.
“I have some stuff I gotta clue you into, but I need you to not.” I heard something, my head jolting over my shoulder, paranoid.
“Not what??” She said, mildly impatient, I stood up slowly, trying my best to be quiet. I kept staring in the general direction I heard the noise in.
“What is it???” She stood up, whispering, looking where I was, attempting to figure out what my deal was.
“Michael.” I said out loud, I didn’t care if I looked crazy, I’d rather be called schizo for the millionth time than have a random person get hurt.
“Huh?” Kasey stared at me, getting a little frustrated, “uh, Michael, as in your name? What? Dude, can you tell me what the fuck is going on.”
“You’re correct, there’s a lifeform present in that direction, a nasty one.” He spoke, “well what the hell is it?!” I growled at Michael, panicking a little due to how damn ominous that sounded, Kasey was staring at me like I was insane, but it was nothing I wasn’t used to. At least for once, I wasn’t crazy, and the voice in my head was no hallucination.
“It’s demo-” Michael started, before being cut off, a grotesque beast waltzed from the shadows, cackling, it had two conjoined heads and looked like a cross between some kind of goat or ram and doberman. Its tails were swaying, equipped with scorpion stingers at the end. Both mouths were drooling a glowing, green substance, which dripped right onto the floor and melting right on through the concrete.
Both me and Kasey stepped back as it twitched, slowly approaching, it opened its mouths and spoke in a brutal, disgusting way, “PRAISE THE PRINCE, THE CONJOINING OF THE PLANES IS UPON US!!” The creature cackled, sounding completely fucking insane.
“What the FUCK is that?!” Kasey grabbed the nearest blunt force object to arm herself, which happened to be a wooden baseball bat leaning against her kitchen counter.
“I have no fucking idea!! Michael what the fuck is that thing!!” I shouted, panicking, Kasey looked at me briefly before keeping her eyes on the fucked up creature trying to corner us.
“Poor Man’s Cerberus, they’re nothing more than a low level demon, this one in particular is from Greed.” Michael spoke calmly.
“WHO THE FUCK IS MICHAEL?” Kasey snapped, she looked like she was on the verge of a breakdown.
“I don’t have time to explain alright?! Just trust me I’m not fucking crazy I swear!!” I yelled, trying to figure out what the fuck to do.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my back. A very very sharp pain, it felt like something was crawling under my tight skin, before starting to tear through slowly, bursting. I gripped my skull in complete, excruciating agony, I fell forward on my knees, just about ready to vomit from this sudden pain. I started to yawn and pant, feeling bile rise in my throat, I put my hands on the floor, crying out.
My back slowly started going numb, I felt my body calming down significantly. I was confused, before recognizing that it was just Michael. I gasped, shakily standing up as tears and sweat dripped down onto the floor. I was panting as I forced myself to stand straight, looking at the creature, I was then just simply confused. It was backing away, silent.
I looked around me a bit, seeing blood rain above me slightly. I looked upward, wings. Those were wings.
I had wings.
Before I could even react, they spread out their full wing span, the creature quivering.
“MERCY, I’M BUT A MERE HELLSPAWN, DEATH TO ME WON’T BE WORTH THE CLEAN, MERCY!!” The creature annoyingly screeched in that awful voice, giving me a damn headache. I halfheartedly pointed directly behind the thing, using my other hand to hold my pounding head.
It bowed at me, before opening its jaws, eating itself quickly into nothing.
I could hear Kasey say something, but I had no idea what the fuck it was. I keeled over and saw nothing but pitch black.
_ _
|_| / \ |\/| |_
| | \_/ | | |_