Infinite Testament (21 page)

Guess he was a changed man, Stephen surmised.

The stranger said the already apparent, “My name’s Ronnie…

“…Ronnie Russell.”

He was the one who Bruce fought in first grade.
The one he battled in high school. The one he faced off with at the
football game. X was Bruce’s old nemesis, Ronnie Russell.

X lit up, “Bruce, my old friend!”

Bruce, on his knees, tried to catch his breath.

“Let him up! Let him up!” X shouted at his
disciples. Instantly, they dispatched, freeing Bruce. He brushed
himself off and stood up.

Bruce and X faced each other and gazed into each other’s
eyes.

Bruce declared, “God sent me.”

X laughed with delight. “Is that right?”

Bruce stared at him. His appearance had changed over
the years. At one time, he was juiced on steroids. At another time,
he was a scrawny little rat. Now, he had a darker presence about
him.

Ronnie was a man who had slipped into an abyss of darkness
and continued to fall for years. He was a psychopath who believed he was
on the side of good. And
that
made him dangerous. As Bruce
looked into his eyes, it was hard to tell what was going on inside of
him. His eyes were dark; the light had gone out. It felt like
staring into the eyes of a stone statue. The only thing Bruce knew for sure
was they had never cared for each other.

X continued, “And what is it God sent you to do?”

“To be your disciple.”

X pondered. He looked at the other disciples, whose
hoods were all off, attempting to read their faces. Relenting, he turned
his back and stared at the still burning fire. “I imagine you broke in
through the lobby, yes?”

Bruce reluctantly replied, “Yes.”

“I will have to replace a glass window?”

“The revolving door.”

X’s frustration surprised Bruce. He was more upset
about the revolving door than he was about him breaking in. “And based on
the cuffs on your hand, I assume you took out the guards?”

Bruce responded, “They’re only immobilized.”

X turned from the fire. To Bruce, X was a dark
silhouette against the backdrop of the circular fire. It was a sight the
made him look more menacing than he was. X mumbled, “We’ll have to show
you the other entrance.”

One of his disciples, John, an old-timer, spoke up, “You
can’t be serious.” John crept toward Bruce and rested his face
uncomfortably close to Bruce’s, staring deep into his eyes. Bruce could
see a fresh bleeding bruise on his forehead. Must’ve nailed him with the
handcuffs.

John was right in his face. This was his
chance. Bruce imagined the location of the knife in his coat. He
couldn’t kill Chad but he could easily kill this babula.

John unintelligibly uttered, “I could take you down all
myself.”

Before Bruce could snatch his knife, X yanked John by the
shoulders. He pulled him back and, without pause, struck him in the face
with his fist. John staggered and put his hands to his throbbing face.

“Stupid old man,” X uttered to himself.

X approached Bruce as warmly as his dark appearance would
allow. He held out his hand. “God’s will be done.”

That’s it? It was as simple as that?

Bruce shook his hand. Their most unlikely partnership
was solidified.

X said, “In the past, I have been a pain in the ass to
you. I’m a changed man. Since grade school, I was in love with a
girl: Sara Ixley. Granted, it was a simple crush. But I
loved
her. In high school, I heard from some friends that you drove her to a
suicide attempt. I went berserk. I was going to kill you at that
dance. But you stopped me. And I’m glad you did. We started
dating while she was in college…”

Bruce’s mind wandered. What!? Sara dated
Ronnie
?
He
was the guy she fell into a faux relationship with while they
were having their secret affair? Bruce maintained his composure.
There was no way to know if Ronnie knew about his and Sara’s relationship.
If he didn’t know, it would be best to keep it that way.

“…And then she supposedly killed herself. But I don’t
buy it. She told me she wouldn’t ever try it again… But I digress.
My point is that despite all the fights you and I have had, I’m different now.

“And it is a true gift from God to have you become one of
my disciples.”

X smiled at Bruce.

Wow. Talk about unexpected.

X approached one of the disciples who had been watching
with great interest. He was an old man, even older than John, and had a
sweet, innocent look to him. X said, “James, we no longer need you.
Go home to your wife.” X put an arm around his shoulder, a true attempt
to comfort him.

James nodded and slipped away from X. Bruce had no
idea where he was heading. Just… away. Bruce was satisfied that he
didn’t have to kill anyone. He was under the impression it would be a
prerequisite of joining the cult-to replace an existing member. Bruce
watched James walk away. He had likely been a member of the cult on the
day Stephen and Bruce scared them in the forest.

Suddenly, a knife ripped through the air and catapulted
into James’ back. It struck him with such force, he propelled several
feet forward as he fell to the metal floor. Bruce was startled and jumped
in surprise. Wide-eyed, he looked at X to see him glaring at James with
pride.

“Good shot, huh?”

Today was the day: the day Bruce and Mikey would finally
take down X.

Bruce and Mikey, adorned in their blue robes, concealed
their faces with their hoods and stood against the wall on the outer rim of the
circular dome-room. The other 10 disciples spread themselves out.
When X gave his signal, the 12 of them would emerge from the shadows, surround
the outsider, and inflict terror into his heart. It wasn’t often an
outsider was brought in. But today’s outsider, brought in by Bruce to
help destroy the cult, was someone truly special. He stood in front of X
with a hood covering his head.

Bruce sat beside the lake. The sun’s beams
spread around him
but the shade-providing tree protected him. The
lake had become a favorite spot of his. A spot of reflection. A
spot of peace.

Bruce’s eyelids slid down and covered his eyes.
Blackness. He imagined Elpis sitting next to him, under the shade of the
tree. He thought of her curly blonde hair blowing in the wind as she
looked out at the lake with him. All he had to do was focus. Focus.

“Hey Elpis,” Bruce muttered. When he opened his eyes,
he saw her smiling face sitting next to him.

“Hi Bruce,” she responded. “What happened?”

Bruce’s spirit visibly fell, “I convinced him.
Stephen told me he wasn’t going to say a word. Everything was
great. And then news of the ILD came out… I don’t know what happened…”

Elpis wrapped her arm around Bruce. “You did your
best.”

Bruce gazed into her blue eyes. “So what now?”

Elpis sighed. She didn’t like what Bruce was going to
have to do. “You’re going to have to join them. You’re going to
have to infiltrate them. And then… kill all of them.” Elpis slipped
a folded piece of paper to Bruce. When he unfolded it, he saw nothing but
gibberish. The letters formed words he couldn’t read.

“It’s Latin,” Elpis said, “You’re going to have to memorize
it. The leader will let you in if you recite that and then…”
Elpis’s eyes filled with pity. She didn’t want it to come to this.
But there was no other choice. “…then you’ll have to kill one of them to
take his place.”

Bruce was befuddled. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you remember in the forest? When we met?
They
were there the night before.”

“So was I,” Bruce said.

Elpis’s brows furrowed. “Is that why he chose you and
Stephen?” she mumbled almost inaudibly.

“Huh?”

“An old… friend… of mine, his name is Moros. He’s
setting everything up. He wants to destroy the planet. Destroy
humanity
.
He’s using everybody, including Stephen, to get it done. And the group
you have to join is his last step. He’s giving them the power to wipe out
everything.”

“Why give them the power? Why doesn’t he just do it
himself?”

“He
can’t
do it himself. But he figured
out a way: use others to do it for him.”

“Why would he want to destroy the world? How does
that benefit anyone?”

“He wants revenge. That’s the only thing that’s been
driving him for the last two thousand years.”

Bruce stared at the lake. He was as baffled as he had
ever been in his life. He liked Elpis. But what if she was just
plain crazy?

Bruce asked, “If that’s all the problem is, why don’t you
just kill this guy?”

“It’s not that easy. It takes a special set of circumstances
for him to die.”

Bruce took a deep breath. “So there’s a guy who’s
thousands of years old. He wants revenge on everybody. And he’s
going to use this cult to finish it up?”

“That’s a basic version of it,” Elpis said.

“How could I possibly believe that?”

“Where do you think the ILD came from? From
Stephen
?
He was just a pawn. We’ve known about the concept of the ILD for
centuries. Moros knew what would happen if everyone learned about
it. And now he’s found the perfect group of people to use the
information. He’s convinced them to give everyone a chance to ‘start
over’.”

Elpis gripped Bruce’s hand. Surprisingly, she started
to tear up. “We’ve all made mistakes, Bruce. And mine prevented you
from living a normal life.

“I’m sorry.”

Elpis’s innocent, bright face was replaced with a somber
one. Bruce wrapped his arm around Elpis and caressed her. He stared
into her defeated blue eyes that were focused on the sparkling water in front
of them. Bruce leaned forward and softly kissed her on the cheek.

Her smile briefly reappeared but vanished just as
quickly. “It’s a dangerous job, Bruce. You’ll see things you don’t
want to see. Innocent people will die. You won’t be able to stop
that. You won’t be able interfere. You will have to become one of
them.”

Elpis looked into Bruce’s eyes and squeezed his hand.
“I don’t want to lose you, Bruce.”

It warmed his soul. Together, they rested their
foreheads on one another. Elpis closed her eyes, focusing on the warmness
resting within her. Bruce closed his eyes and rubbed the back of her
head. On the surface, they were like two lovers enjoying the nice weather
at a park. If only it were that simple. Almost involuntarily, their
lips inched close together. Elpis placed her hand on Bruce’s cheek.
There was something that brought them together.

As their lips rested inches apart, they pulled away.

Bruce declared, “Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.”

Bruce and Mikey pounded fists. The nightmare
was almost over.
Bruce did all of this, dealt with the cult for 2
years, for Elpis. To stop Moros from destroying the world. Who was
Moros? Bruce didn’t know. But he knew in his heart Elpis was on his
side.

The outsider, whose face was covered with a hood, stood
patiently in the middle of the dome-room. The disciples anxiously waited
for X to begin his questioning. Mikey squinted, doing his best to see the
action. X yelled to the disciples, “You can come out! There’s no
need to hide from him.” Mikey looked at Bruce with concern. Bruce
calmed him. “It’s fine. He wouldn’t have been surprised by
us. No need to worry.”

As the 12 disciples stood around the hooded man, X stood in
front of him and ripped the hood off his head.

When the hood was gone, Mr. Ixley was left looking at
X. Mr. Ixley’s eyes darted around and he saw some of the disciples he had
known so well through the years. Mr. Ixley smiled in the face of death.

X smiled back. “Hello again, Mr. Ixley.”

Mr. Ixley confidently acknowledged him, “X.”

Bruce, dressed casually, knocked on the front door
and waited.
The door opened and Mr. Ixley appeared. He
still wore the same nerdy glasses but had aged considerably. The stress
of losing Sara had no doubt robbed him of a few years of his life.

“Hey, Mr. Ixley.”

“Bruce! I told you… Call me Wayne!”

Bruce laughed. Mr. Ixley swung open the door and
hugged his old friend. “What brings you here?”

“X.”

Mr. Ixley’s eyes widened so much they nearly popped out of
his head. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, Wayne.
X
. I’m
with them now.”

Mr. Ixley felt an abrupt pain in his skull. He
grabbed his forehead in disbelief, “Oh no.” Mr. Ixley saw the serious
look in Bruce’s face. His demeanor was much different from his goofy,
nonchalant self. “So you’re here to kill me then?”

Bruce laughed. “No. I’m here to ask for your
help. I’m going to kill them. All of them.”

This was all too much. Mr. Ixley almost collapsed
under the weight of these revelations. He worried Bruce had lost his
mind. Nonetheless, he was intrigued. “Come in.”

Mr. Ixley held out his hand to his beloved sanctuary
chair. “Sit down, please.”

“That’s your favorite spot,” Bruce said. Even he knew
of the importance of that chair.

“It’s only a chair, Bruce.” Mr. Ixley insisted, “Please.”

Bruce sat in the once majestic reading chair. Mr.
Ixley sat across from him on the couch. A flood of memories rushed into
Bruce. The last time he was here was on prom night.

“Why do you want to kill them?” Mr. Ixley asked.

“Do you know a man named Moros?”

Mr. Ixley hung his head and paused. Perhaps sitting
and chatting wasn’t appropriate for this meeting. “Why don’t you come
with me? There’s something I should show you.”

Mr. Ixley left the confines of the family room and
proceeded toward the stairs. Bruce followed. As they climbed the
stairs, Bruce noticed the family pictures still hanging on the wall. In
them, Mr. Ixley was smiling with the lights of his life. Rachel
Ixley. Sara Ixley. In hindsight, the pictures were
heartbreaking. Mr. Ixley had lost so much and done nothing to deserve the
heartache he was forced to endure. At the peak of the stairwell, Bruce
noticed a new picture: A high school Sara and Bruce hugging and smiling with
their cheeks rubbed up against one another. Bruce stopped in his
tracks. The image sent chills down his spine.

Mr. Ixley said, “That picture was on her desk. I
especially like that one.”

Bruce’s eyes tugged and tears forced their way to the
surface. He rubbed his eyes, trying to prevent an outburst but the
picture of the two of them, smiling carefree at the camera, simply overcame
him.

Mr. Ixley tried to comfort him. “She loved you more
than anything.”

Bruce asked as his voice cracked, “Do you know who killed
her?”

“I don’t know. But it wasn’t suicide, I can tell you
that.”

Bruce wiped his swollen eyes. He needed to regain his
composure. “What did you want to show me?”

Mr. Ixley headed toward his bedroom. Naturally, they
headed straight for the closet. At the end of it, the X door
awaited. So much had happened through the years, Bruce nearly forgot
about that room.

The X door was just as daunting as it had been on prom
night. Mr. Ixley casually opened it. “The leader of the group is
called ‘X’. It is not a name. It is a title. I was X for many
years. It consumed me. So I created this room.” Mr. Ixley
reached his hand on the inside wall and flipped on a light.

The inside of the room illuminated a dark blue color.
“Just give it a minute,” Mr. Ixley said. The blue light became brighter
with every second that passed. Bruce peered into the room with keen
curiosity. In a flash, the blue light clicked into regular fluorescence,
illuminating everything inside.

Mr. Ixley said, “Come inside.”

Bruce followed Mr. Ixley inside the secret room.

As he stepped inside, his eyes shot around. This
wasn’t just a room; it was a mini-shrine. On the back wall, a crucifix
extended from the ceiling to the floor. Jesus’s limp body hung from the
cross. In the middle of the room was an altar covered with a white
cloth. In front of him, at the base of the entrance, was something that
caught his attention: a statue of a head propped on a white pillar. The
statue extended down to the man’s shoulders. Bruce didn’t recognize
him. There was little special about his face: he had a strong jawline,
short hair, and no facial hair. The statue’s eyes were well defined,
staring creepily ahead.

Mr. Ixley remarked, “That was carved by Michelangelo during
the Renaissance.”

It was as stunning to hear as anything. “I’m sorry…
what?”

“The angel that visited Michelangelo toward the end of his
life…”

Bruce shook his head and held up his hand. “Hold on a
second. You have a piece from… Michelangelo. How?”

“Does it matter?” Mr. Ixley smiled.
“Surely you must have more pertinent questions for me than that.”

Bruce looked around the room. On both sides of the
shrine, on three poorly built shelves, was an endless array of religious
artifacts jumbled together. There were golden crosses, tabernacles, and
wooden… somethings. Everything in the room seemed to pertain to
Christianity in some way. The collection in the room was probably
priceless. The shrine was not what Bruce expected to be in the secret X
room.

“What is this room for?” Bruce asked.

“It’s where I used to pray.”

“Used to?”

Mr. Ixley bowed his head and sighed. “When Sara died,
I ran out of things to pray for. Ran out of things to be thankful
for. Ran out of things to hope for.”

Mr. Ixley pointed to the wooden floor next to the
altar. Bruce saw the remnants of a circle, as if something used to be
there.

Bruce said, “The X-circle.”

“Yes,” Mr. Ixley confirmed. “It’s called an
Occor. I removed it when I left
them
.”

“The cult,” Bruce said.

“If you want to call it that,” Mr. Ixley said as he removed
his glasses and placed them on the altar. Bruce had seldom seen Mr. Ixley
without glasses. He must’ve been getting serious. He continued,
“There are hundreds, thousands, of cults in the world. But our group, The
Xlympians of Christ, was different. No cult has what we had.”

“And what is that?”

“The book…

“…You’ve seen it before, Bruce. When you came into my
office and
noticed
the symbol on the cover. You
knew
what
it was. That was when I knew about you. You were going to be a part
of this whether I liked it or not.”

Bruce tried to get Mr. Ixley back on track. “What is
the book?”

“The book contains three chapters. The first two:
written in Latin. The third: written in a language that doesn’t
exist. There is simply no deciphering chapter three. No one knows
what it says. But the first two chapters… they told us how to
assimilate. Among other things, those chapters told us how to build the
Occor as a means of talking to angels...”

Talking to angels… What kind of book was this?
Bruce asked, “Can I see it?”