Rapture (33 page)

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Authors: Phillip W. Simpson

BOOK: Rapture
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A winged figure was emerging through one of the broken alabaster windows, scattering fragments of glass before it. It took flight inside the nave and then arrowed down to land beside Sam. Sam recognized her with a wave of relief. The Archangel Gabriel.

“Hello, Samael,” she said. “I told you I’d see you again.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Helping you, obviously. I can’t assist you in your battle against the Antichrist, but I can watch your back for you. I’ll hold them off while you deal with him.”

“Surely you can’t hold them off all by yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me,” said Gabriel.

She glanced upwards. Through the gaping hole created by the Colonel’s tank, more angelic figures, both male and female, poured into the cavernous space above the nave. They were armoured in a similar way, their gleaming breastplates in stark contrast to the dark armour worn by the Astaroth. Long flaming swords were gripped in their hands and their beautiful faces were grim. Winging their way gracefully downwards, they landed near Gabriel.

A flaming sword suddenly appeared in Gabriel’s hand, suffusing the immediate area with light. She smiled. “Just concern yourself with the task that is before you.”

Sam nodded his thanks, turning to face his adversary again. He ran forward and circled around the altar, into the immense space that was the Presbyterium. On happier days, the space was used by up to four hundred priests as they gathered around the bishop to celebrate the liturgy. Today, there was only one. Or so Sam believed. Out of the shadows moved two hulking shapes. Astaroth. Swords drawn, they advanced menacingly, their red, baleful eyes fixed on Sam. They lumbered forward to stand before him, just out of sword range.

“Leave him,” said the hooded figure without turning. “He belongs to me.” The voice sent a shiver down Sam’s spine, its tone achingly familiar. “Go and join the others.”

The Astaroth glanced uncertainly behind them before moving aside to allow Sam to pass. His eyes followed them warily, suspecting a trick as they stalked off, joining their brethren in the battle that had already begun with the angelic intruders.

He turned his gaze forward again. The hooded figure hadn’t moved. Sam approached within ten feet and the figure finally held up one hand to halt his approach. Sam cautiously moved a little closer and then stopped, still six feet away.

“I really didn’t think you’d get this far,” said the figure, his strangely familiar voice muffled slightly by the hood. “But I’m glad you did.” With one hand, he swept the hood off his head.

Sam staggered back a foot and gaped in sheer amazement. He recognized him immediately, and the enormity of it made his head swim. The handsome face, the strong pale features. He knew it well.

The face was his own.

15
REVELATIONS
PRESENT

“After this I saw in the night visions, and, behold, a fourth beast, dreadful and terrible, and strong exceedingly; and it had great iron teeth: it devoured and break in pieces, and stamped the residue with the feet of it: and it was diverse from all the beasts that were before it; and it had ten horns. I considered the horns, and, behold, there came up among them another little horn”.

Daniel. 7:7-8

“Who … who are you?” he spluttered.

The figure gave a crooked grin, a smile that Sam recognized immediately from his futile attempts to pull off the same expression in the mirror. “Our father was right. You are a little stupid.”

“Our father?” Sam exclaimed.

“Yes,” replied the figure slowly as if explaining something to a dim child. “Our father. Yours and mine. You’re my twin brother.”

“My brother?” Sam echoed, completely stunned by the knowledge.

The figure sighed. “If you’re going to repeat everything I say, then I just won’t bother. My name is Semiazas. We share the same mother and father, you and I, it’s just that I was raised in Hell while you were raised amongst all the other useless humans.”

Through the fog of confusion that was threatening to unman him, Sam started to understand. His mother had given birth to twins but somehow managed to conceal one of them – himself – from his demonic father. Or at least … conceal him long enough for her to remove him from its clutches.

“And our father?” he asked.

Semiazas sneered at him, the face twisting in some way that was foreign to Sam. “You are a dullard, aren’t you? You really hadn’t guessed after all this time? Our father is the Morning Star, the Bringer of Light, the Illuminator, the father of lies – call him what you like. You might know him as Satan. I call him Father. He’s yours too.”

Sam felt like he had been shot. He fell to one knee, breathing heavily. His father was Satan, the Lord of Hell himself? He told himself this wasn’t true, couldn’t possibly be true, but in his heart, he knew that it was.

“Count yourself lucky,” said Semiazas. “We are the first and only children that he will have. Doesn’t want too many offspring lurking about – the sons of Satan himself are far too powerful and dangerous to keep around. We were only brought into existence for a particular purpose: me to be the Antichrist, you to be the poor puppet who gets his soul and blood sucked out of him by yours truly just to make me even more invincible. That idiot woman – our mother – had to go and make it difficult. If she hadn’t spirited you away somehow, then you would have been under my blade by the time we could walk.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Sam spat the words out, sudden hatred for this creature filling him. He didn’t care that it was his brother; Semiazas was clearly evil. He stood, strength filling him, and raised his swords.

Semiazas stared at him, suddenly amused. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Why? Why not?” He took a step forward. “You deserve to die for all the evil you have wrought.”

“I thought you’d know your Bible, brother. You must have heard of Cain and Able. Don’t you know that killing your brother is a mortal sin? Would you really condemn yourself to a life in Hell, away from your precious humans?”

“It would be worth it,” Sam shot back through gritted teeth.

“Ah, well,” said Semiazas. “Didn’t really think that that particular gambit would work anyway. Let’s try something else.”

He clicked his fingers. A door inset into the brown concrete wall underneath the huge pipe organ suddenly opened. Two figures appeared, the larger one dragging a smaller figure, hands securely bound, behind it.

As they got closer, Sam’s heart started pounding in his chest. Now he recognized both of them. The taller figure with blond hair was Joshua. The smaller one was a person he’d never thought he would lay eyes on again. A person whom he’d prayed that he would see, knowing it was a forlorn hope. A surge of emotions threatened to rip him apart; joy at seeing her again, and a terrible, terrible anger.

It was Aimi.

He cried out when he saw her and rushed at Joshua, intent on running his blades through his betrayer. Dragging Aimi in front of him, Joshua pressed a knife to her throat with his left hand while Sam was still several feet from him.

“Do it and she dies,” he warned.

Sam’s world was crumbling around him. The girl he loved more than anything else and had believed to be in Heaven was now under the blade of a boy he thought was his friend.

“Why?” he said to Joshua.

With a shrug, Josh flashed him a lopsided grin. “I got a better offer a long time ago. Oh, and by the way, that injury to my wrist – I faked it.” He held up his free hand. Even from this distance, Sam could clearly make out the mark of the beast.

“Don’t listen to them,” cried Aimi. “Do what you have to do, Sam. I will always love you no matter what.”

Joshua shook her angrily. “Shut up!” he yelled.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” said Semiazas. “I do so enjoy happy reunions.”

His face turned suddenly grim. “So, here’s the thing. I got some of my minions to snatch your precious little treasure here just before the Rapture. I’ve been holding her as insurance, just in case we got to meet. Your friend Joshua has been working for me for quite a while, whether he liked it or not. We kind of sealed the arrangement while you were travelling overland to Las Vegas. I wanted him to keep you away from here but he wasn’t quite as effective as I would’ve liked.” He shrugged. “No matter.

It’s all worked out pretty well so far.”

“Let her go,” Sam demanded.

“And you’ll give me what in return? The cards aren’t really in your favour here. I seem to hold all the chips, too. I’ll tell you what I’m not about to do; release her without you doing something for me.”

“What? Anything, just name it.”

Semiazas leered at him. “Sacrifice yourself. Exchange your life for hers.”

“Don’t you dare,” Aimi yelled at him. “I’m not worth it.”

“Yes, you are,” he said quietly.

He didn’t know what else to do. If he didn’t surrender himself to Semiazas, his brother would kill Aimi. If he did fight Semiazas and win, Joshua would kill Aimi before he could save her.

On the other hand, if he defeated the Antichrist, he would also prevent the suffering of countless other humans. Was Aimi’s life worth the rest of humanities? His heart told him yes, but his mind resolutely answered no.

“There is another option here,” said a smooth voice.

Sam turned to face the newcomer, only to find that he wasn’t new to him at all. It was the well-dressed demon who had visited him on two previous occasions, and had haunted Sam’s dreams forever.

“Father!” exclaimed Semiazas. “What are you doing here?”

The last piece of the puzzle slotted into place in Sam’s mind. No wonder this demon had been keeping an eye on him. It was his father, the Devil himself. Sam had already had so many shocks today that this one hardly registered. He just stared dumbly.

“To bring to fruition the plans I set in motion eighteen years ago,” said Satan. He stared at Sam. “Do you really think I let your mother take you away, Samael? Of course I didn’t. It was all planned. I don’t see absolutely everything like his Highness up there, but I do see a great deal. I allowed her to take you and I orchestrated it so that Hikari would bring you up. You see, I wanted you well trained for a particular purpose. I want you to fight Semiazas.”

“What?” said Sam and Semiazas simultaneously.

“Only the strongest survive in Hell and I only want the very strongest as my Antichrist, my little horn. You two will fight to determine who is the strongest. The winner will take his place at my side, while the loser, well …” He shrugged.

“I don’t want to serve you,” said Sam. “I would rather die.”

“You’ll just have to make a choice then. Semiazas had no right to determine the fate of your little girlfriend here. That is for me to decide. If you choose to fight, I will release her. That I promise.”

Sam thought quickly, trying to conceal his thoughts from invasive mind-readers with an image of anything other than what he planned. Clearly, he had no option but to fight. He had no intention of joining his father as his Antichrist, but he had to buy some time. He had to save Aimi.

For the first time, the sound of battle intruded. It had been going on for some time, but Sam had just not noticed it. He dared not look behind, but it sounded like Gabriel and her cadre of guardians was keeping busy, but the cries of dying angels were pure torment. He could also hear gunfire: Colonel Sumner’s troops had entered the nave.

Regardless of the outcome, Sam had to fight. Gabriel and the human resistance were fighting and possibly dying, just to give him this opportunity. He had come all this way to fight the Antichrist and fight him was what he was going to do. He’d make up the rest later.

“So be it,” said Sam.

Semiazas was looking at his father with hatred. Obviously, he had not been privy to this information. Like Sam, he now had no choice. But Sam realized something then. His brother had had no intention of fighting him, believing that Aimi would give him the leverage he needed.

Semiazas was scared.

“No,” rasped Semiazas, still glaring at his father. “This wasn’t what you promised. I am your true son, not this …” He gestured at Sam in disgust. “… this wholesome, human-loving moron. I have earned my place at your side. Destroy him and be done with it, once and for all.”

Satan stared at his son for a moment and then threw back his head and barked with laughter. He sobered quickly.

“You fool,”he said quietly, his voice dripping with scorn and malice. “If you choose not to fight, you prove to me you are not worthy. Samael will become my Antichrist by default and you will die by my own hand. Now stop your whimpering and do what I brought you here to do.”

“It doesn’t matter whether he fights or not,”said Sam. “I will never become what you want me to be.”

Satan narrowed his yes, which suddenly flashed with red. “We’ll see.”

Angrily, Semiazas threw off the hooded cloak he wore, revealing black armour that glistened like the carapace of a giant beetle. A sword appeared in his hands; a broadsword, long bladed and as dark as his armour.

With a mighty roar and moving so swiftly that even Sam struggled to follow, Semiazas attacked, bringing his sword down so quickly that Sam barely managed to get his blades up in time. Somehow he parried with his katana, but the power of the blow left his hand numb. Training and instinct forced his other arm out, striking from the waist with his wakizashi, intending to let his brother’s momentum carry himself onto the blade. Semiazas twisted with inhuman speed and the blade passed harmlessly to one side. He kicked out, taking Sam full in the chest. The blow carried all of Semiazas’ considerable strength, knocking Sam off his feet. Both Sam’s swords went flying, skittering over the smooth tiles and disappearing into the shadows.

Stunned, Sam found himself flat on his back. Time had slowed again. From the corner of his eye, he could see Aimi struggling against Joshua’s grasp, their movements seeming ridiculously sluggish. He heard Aimi scream, the noise arriving long after her mouth moved as Semiazas leapt and brought his sword down in an arc that would have split Sam in two. At the last second, he rolled aside and the sword bit into the limestone, shattering the stone with the power of the blow.

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