Demonic Designs (To Absolve the Fallen) (17 page)

The back of Jeremiah’s hand collided with Matt’s face so hard that the back of his head cracked the passenger’s side window.
 
Elizabeth screamed.
 
Matt pulled a gun.

Jeremiah smiled.
 
“What are you going to do with that, Matt?
 
Kill me?
 
Or maybe you’d like to kill him.”
 
Jeremiah pointed to Alex.
 
“It will serve the same purpose either way.
 
If either of us die, your chances of surviving your next run-in with Patheus are very slim.
 
If you were to ‘beat the shit out of him,’ he would never again trust you, and he would die.
 
Now, for the sake of all that is wholesome, please stop playing around with that thing.
 
We can settle our disputes later.
 
Don’t drag him into this.”

“Oh, I do so love your logic, Jeremiah,” Matt spat at him.
 
“Blame the victim.
 
You know what?
 
I wouldn’t have to deal with Patheus if it wasn’t for you.
 
Maybe if I fuck up your plans, he won’t hate me so much.”
 
He directed his gun toward Alex.

“Matt don’t,” Elizabeth whispered.
 
“You’re playing his games.”

Jeremiah shook his head slowly. “Give me the gun...NOW.”

Matt’s eyes rolled back into his head, and his arm extended toward the demon.
 
Jeremiah held out his hand, and Matt dropped the gun into it.

Matt grabbed the sides of his head.
 
“I hate it when you do that.”

“Look, Matt.
 
I’m sorry I hit you.
 
I should have tried to reason with you a little better than that.”

“Reason?!”
 
Matt exclaimed, bringing his head up out of his hands.
 
“You never even tried to reason.”

“I said I was sorry,” Jeremiah continued.
 
“You can either choose to accept it or not.
 
Alex is definitely not your enemy.
 
Blame me.
 
Attack me.
 
Kill me if you can.
 
But for your sake, Elizabeth’s sake, and the sake of the world, don’t kill him.”

“You know what I think?” Elizabeth asked.

Jeremiah sighed.
 
“I shudder when I consider the possibilities.”

Elizabeth smiled patronizingly.
 
“You are a monster; there’s no question about that.
 
But I think there may be some heart in you yet.”

Jeremiah returned his hands to the side of Alex’s skull.
 
“Your insight amazes me.
 
Don’t let my lack of concern stop you.
 
Continue with your analysis, Doctor.”
 
His eyes closed, and it looked like he had stopped paying attention.

“You can’t bait me that easily.
 
Your insults mean nothing to me.”
 

Jeremiah said nothing.
 

“This is another chance, isn’t it, Jeremiah?” she persisted.
 
“You can save this one, so by God you will.”

Jeremiah opened his eyes and looked directly into Elizabeth’s.
 
“No.
 
Because of God, I couldn’t help Jesus.
 
Now, because of Him, I cannot help Alex.”
 
He shrugged.
 
“I guess this means wait.”

“What happens if you lose Alex?
 
You can’t fall again.”

“Elizabeth,” Jeremiah mused as he returned to the forward position in his seat, “I think I liked it better when you were unconscious.”

“Jeremiah, you’re a bastard,” Matt added.

“I have no parents,” Jeremiah replied while lighting a cigarette.
 
“Therefore, I could not have been born out of wedlock.
 
I’m sure that, as smart as Liz is, she probably already figured that one out.
 
Your mother, though, being the proverbial town bicycle that she was, did conceive you outside of marriage—as I recall.”

“Don’t argue with him, Matt,” Elizabeth insisted as she put her hand on the young man’s shoulder, “He wants that.
 
He wants you to be as angry and bitter as he is.
 
He is powerless unless you give him the power.”

“All sorts of words of wisdom from you, Liz.”
 
Jeremiah started up the car and pulled back onto the highway.
 
“I wonder...where
does
it all come from?”

Everyone was surprised when it wasn’t Elizabeth but Alex who answered, “You would be surprised, Jeremiah, at how well they see, even at their age.”

Immediately, Jeremiah pulled back off the road.
 
He turned around slowly.
 
Matt and Elizabeth were already staring at Alex.
 
His eyes seemed focused on something else, and the voice that was coming through was not the voice of the boy.
 
It sounded like his voice, but Jeremiah recognized the command inherent in its tone.
 
It had been millennia since he had been in Heaven, but he knew this was the voice of God.

“Do not be afraid, Matthew,” Alex said.
 
“Your time will come to shine.
 
I know you hurt now, but pain is only temporary.
 
Don’t punish yourself for things you cannot change.
 
Humanity’s beauty can only be completely perceived from many different angles.”
 

Alex faced Elizabeth and smiled, though still not making eye-contact with her.
 
“Elizabeth, your role is one of the most important.
 
Your compassion will be most necessary before the end.
 
He will need you more than anyone else.
 
Jeremiah’s heart is cold from the distance between us.
 
Yet, there is still hope for him.
 
You’re right.
 
There’s love in there that even he does not know of.”
 

The smile faded, and Alex turned to Jeremiah.
 
Jeremiah’s heart leapt when a voice returned.
 
There was a change, if only for a second, in the energy that pulsed through Alex.
 
It changed enough that Jeremiah could recognize it as a young boy he had known a very long time ago.
 
He spoke to Jeremiah in a language that only the two of them could understand.
 

Elizabeth could almost see a tear form in Jeremiah’s eye, or maybe it was just the way the sun caught it.
 
It was beyond her to think that this monster could actually have human feelings, but there was no doubt that the tone he took with Alex was different than the one he had just been using.
 
Then, Alex fell back into the seat, and his eyes closed.

For more than a minute, they silently watched him, and finally he came to.

He looked around bewildered.
 
“What happened?”

No one answered.
 
In fact, the entire car was silent until Jeremiah spoke up.
 

“I told you he was important,” the demon declared indignantly.

Elizabeth and Matt just stared at Alex.
 
Jeremiah turned around and pulled the car off the shoulder.
 
They rode for a long time in silence, everyone contemplating the message he or she had just received.
 

Alex noted a dark spot on the back of Matt’s head.
 
It looked like dried blood.
 
He tried to remember if it had been there before, and he came to the conclusion that it hadn’t.
 
Something strange had happened while he was unconscious.
 

Alex looked ahead and saw an eerie glow that crowned the mountains they were approaching.
 
In another hour, they had crested those mountains and were looking down at a city in a valley.
 
To Alex, Las Vegas looked like a giant bowl filled with lights.
 
A few things stuck out, like the Luxor and Stratosphere, but most of the city was a blur.
 
Flashy casinos and grand hotels only reminded Alex how far he was from his small town home.

He knew that Jeremiah’s mansion would be nearby.
 
He also knew this was probably where he would have to stay for a while.
 
Nevertheless, he silently vowed to return to Kingstone as soon as possible.
 
His family and friends at least deserved the truth—if any of them would even accept this as truth.

Matt abruptly broke the silence when he turned to face Alex and asked, “So what did you see?”

Dreading this moment, Alex slowly met Matt’s gaze.
 
He had feared that the invasion had been noticed, and now Matt wanted to talk about it.
 
Well, they didn’t have to know all of it.
 
Indeed, he didn’t know what to make of most of it yet.
 

“Fear, pain, a bully, and hope,” Alex replied cryptically.

Matt looked confused, but shrugged his shoulders and said, “Well, I’d like to believe that there is hope in the end.”
 

He turned back around to face the oncoming city.

Light from the surroundings poured into the car as they entered town, and out of the corner of his eye, Alex could see Liz staring at him.
 
He turned to make eye contact, and as he did, she turned to her window—as if suddenly distracted by the display.
 
Alex’s heart sank.
 
No matter how he might feel about her, he reminded himself, she was Matt’s, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

It’s true that change is constant.
 
People work for years to attain some kind of stability, and they may not even see the change occurring, but it does.
 
Adapting to new situations and accepting that we cannot be in charge of everything makes us strong.
 
To fight those things is to attempt to deny a natural force.
 
Some beings can hold off the flood, but it only builds behind the dam they create.
 
Flowing against the very nature of the universe drives people mad.
 
The most powerful demons have become completely insensitive to the world around them.
 
They cannot even conceptualize of the importance we play in the universe.
 
They have been fighting the flow of change for so long that, now, they can only see things as the way they were—when angels were the only movers and shakers.
 
Many such demons avoid and ignore us.
 
Others slaughter us when they can.
 
On its own, an average demon might be able to kill an average prophet.
 
But the demons are seldom alone, and the ones who come after prophets are not average.

--Abigail Martin,
Through the Eyes of a Martyr

Metatron was not sure what he thought of his new body.
 
He had been without a body for more than a decade, after having been in a battle with an angel.
 
An earthquake that Metatron used to devastate a small Asian city claimed the lives of a little over three hundred people.
 
Apparently, Heaven thought he’d crossed a line.
 
That was certainly nothing compared to the deaths that he had been responsible for as an angel, but it wasn’t a bad number for a demon.
 

To his knowledge, he was the only demon—other than Lucifer, of course—who had fought with an angel and not been successfully banished to Hell.
 
Maybe he was getting stronger.
 
Granted, that was the first time that he had ever battled an angel, and he had not thought he could escape with a tie to earth, but he did.
 
He couldn’t kill the angel.
 
Oh, no.
 
A concerted effort of many demons may be able to achieve such a feat, but not one alone.
 
His body became separated from his soul, and he floated in the Limbo between Hell and Earth for twelve years, trying to summon the will and energy to re-form himself.

The time and spiritual pain to reshape a body around his twisted soul was well worth it.
 
He had been back in the action for more than a month, and he had revived all of his old connections.
 
His survival after the angelic encounter and the rumors that surrounded it caused the other demons to fear him more than they had before he disappeared—except Jeremiah.

In the last month, Metatron had learned that not only did his old comrade live, but he was working against him and had been doing so, secretively, for almost fifty years.
 
Recently, after Metatron’s disappearance, Jeremiah had been making more overt steps to regain a foothold.
 
It had hurt Metatron to learn that Jeremiah was plotting and scheming against him.
 
They had been friends; they had fought together—for Heaven and against it.
 
The worthless Patheus was doing nothing to stop Jeremiah, but he did seem to be doing something to fuel Jeremiah’s rush.
 
And, for that, Metatron would have to have a serious talk with him.
 

Perhaps, it was time for Metatron to come out of hiding, anyway.
 
For God, he had killed the firstborn children of the Egyptian heathens.
 
Most of the plagues designed to thin humanity’s population were created by him and Michael.
 
He personally delivered them to those populations that needed to be taught a lesson.
 
He was the one to coax Mount Thera to erupt and wipe out a civilization that was growing far too fast for anyone’s good.

He was one of the two in Sodom when Lot and his family were delivered from the destruction of the city.
 
There was never a chance for Sodom.
 
Heaven does not send the Voice of God, one of several Angels of Death, to negotiate.
 
Metatron had already redirected the course of several small asteroids before entering the city.
 
Those who saw the burning death headed their direction in time ran.
 
Most never saw it coming, though, and those who ran were hunted down and slaughtered.
 

There were fables made later as to why the city was destroyed, but the fact of the matter is that the entire city—with the exception of Lot and his family—was a stronghold of demons and evil prophets.
 
The whole population was being directed by Lucifer and conspired to kill Lot’s family, then move on to kill Abraham’s, eliminating all of the potential prophets in the region.

Metatron and Michael had arrived in the city with the express purpose of protecting Lot and Abraham from the amassing horde.
 
But God, being omniscient and all, knew that the demons would not relent.
 
After it was clear that Lot would not succumb to bribes, taunts, or threats, an attack was launched.
 
The timing could not have been more perfect.
 
The demons burst into their battle forms moments before the first meteorite demolished a nearby building and sent a shockwave through the town.
 

In addition, Heaven approached this situation a little differently than it had with Eden.
 
Where Jeremiah and his troupe of angels had semi-mortal—and therefore susceptible—bodies, Metatron and Michael were fully angelic.
 
The demons and false prophets fell by the dozens under the swords of the two archangels.
 
Burning rocks falling from the sky killed many more.

In the end, Lot and his family made it away safely.
 
No one was turned into a pillar of salt, despite the trite story of a disobedient wife.
 
Abraham and his family lived to produce a lineage of prophets—remarkable in itself, as prophets are, under any other circumstance, sterile.

But that was all in the past.
 
Since the Fall, Metatron had been single-handedly responsible for more deaths than any human tyrant could have ever dreamed.
 
He did this in the role of general, king, politician, and advisor.
 
When he felt like he needed to take a hand in death directly, he would personally kill hundreds of people at a time.
 
Nothing could sate his lust for blood, pain, and death.
 
He had been an Angel of Death in Heaven, and he still thought that title fitting.
 
At some point, God decided that He’d had enough and ordered that an angel put a stop to this rogue killing.
 
This, along with other near-Hell experiences, had caused Metatron to reevaluate his position.
 
His methods would have to be more subtle in the future.

Metatron had resolved to set things right, and the first way to do that was going to be eliminate Jeremiah the Ungrateful.
 
Jeremiah didn’t realize that, on this planet, Metatron was a god.
 
Metatron was sad that he had to make the choice, but the errant demon would have to learn who was truly in command.

***

The compound was absolutely huge.
 
The mansion in the center was bigger, in fact, than Alex’s high school.
 
It was lit up, too.
 
Through perfect night, Alex could see it approaching from far away.
 
They were stopped six times at checkpoints along the way.
 
The biggest mansion Alex had ever seen stood just ahead.
 
People were going in and out of it.
 
There were sheds all around that Alex could only assume held supplies and equipment.
 
There were other buildings that looked to be servants’ quarters.
 
There were ATVs parked around a large structure that Alex took to be the security headquarters.
 
Men came out with rifles strapped to their backs and confirmed his suspicion.
 
Alex chuckled about it, but the scene in front of him made him wonder how much like this Waco or Jonestown would have looked.

“Welcome home,” Jeremiah said as he pulled up to an eight-car garage.

Five men in suits immediately approached the car.
 
“Good to see you, sir,” the biggest one greeted.

Alex looked to Jeremiah, but it was Matt who answered.
 
“It’s good to be back, Higgins.
 
Anything happen while we were gone?”

“No,” he replied, sticking his huge head into the window, “but it looks like you’ve seen some action.
 
Where are the others?”

Jeremiah opened the door and responded dryly, “They’re dead, Higgins.”
 
Then, the demon’s tone brightened.
 
“But they died for a good cause.”

Higgins pulled his head out of the window and scowled at Jeremiah as the demon was coming, slowly, out of the car.
 
“We’re all pawns to you, aren’t we?”

Jeremiah sighed and turned to Higgins.
 
He looked at the burly man for a second and then began to walk around the car.
 
“
They
were pawns, Higgins.
 
You’re more like...a knight.”
 
As he got around to where Higgins was standing, he added, “Is that clear?”

Higgins averted his eyes and answered, “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Jeremiah said without missing a beat.
 
“Here’s the problem.
 
It is possible that we should be expecting company soon.
 
I want you to double the watch for at least a week.
 
No one is to enter or leave this compound without Matt or me hearing about it.
 
You can trust that Marla will get us that message as soon as she receives it.”
 
Jeremiah motioned to the back seat.
 
“See him?
 
That’s Alex, and under no condition is he to leave the compound.
 
I don’t care if it looks like I am walking him out—stop me.”

“Why him?” Matt asked.

“Simple, Matt.
 
He’s the linchpin.
 
If he doesn’t live—or isn’t on our side—we don’t win.
 
You know how many people I’ve heard channel the voice of God?
 
Two.”

“Wait,” Elizabeth protested as she was getting out of the car behind Matt.
 
“We don’t know that Alex was channeling anything.
 
You jump to conclusions because he spouted ambiguous portents?
 
What he told us was as worthless as horoscopes in predicting the future.”

Jeremiah smiled and turned to Alex, who was now getting out of the car.
 
“What wonderful Hebrew you speak.”

“I don’t speak Hebrew,” Alex replied.

“Oh, but you were.
 
You told me of things that only one other mortal ever knew of—and some things that even the angels in Heaven never knew.
 
I don’t care what you know or don’t know, Elizabeth.
 
Prophets don’t just pop up every day.
 
They have to be inspired.
 
Alex has the potential to rival any prophet in history.
 

“Who knows?
 
The three of you may even be able to stop a demon.
 
Wouldn’t that be a novel concept?
 
In fact, you and Matt can weave your hate for me all throughout him, turn him against me, and the three of you could send me to Hell forever.
 
But, whatever you do, give him the respect he deserves.”

Elizabeth and Matt were silent and staring at Higgins and the five men standing behind him.
 
Jeremiah turned around.
 
Higgins’s jaw had dropped.
 
He looked as though he disbelieved, but there was something nagging.

Jeremiah laughed.
 
“Right.
 
I remember.
 
We’re not supposed to talk to the help about supernatural things because they wouldn’t understand.”

Matt cocked his eyebrow.
 
“It was
you
who told
us
that.”