The Dark Path (15 page)

Vain gazed expressionlessly at the priest. “Is there a special school where they send all you idiots to learn this bullshit?” he asked coldly. “If I hear any more talk of Days of Judgment or horsemen riding out of a two hundred thousand year-old bastard named Empeth’s ass I swear I’ll kill every mother-fucker in this place. Tell me something based on fact old man, or I’ll carve large holes in your head to help you understand me.”

“You dare say these things in the house of God!” cried Father Armadeuso, making the sign of the cross.

“I dare old man. Where is your God now? How strong will your faith be after I shred your carcass and piss in your skull?”

“Who are you to say such things?” whispered the quivering priest.

“I am Vain, old man,” the Dark Man hissed bitingly.

Father Armadeuso paled and his hands began to shake. “Y-you’re an assassin,” he stammered. “Priest mentioned you, but I thought he was joking. You kill and torture people for money. You are evil personified. What was Priest thinking, enlisting your aid?”

“I don’t know and I wish more than anything he hadn’t. But right now I’m all you’ve got, so you’d better get used to it.”  

The old priest swallowed heavily, pausing to let his nerves settle. “The people you are up against are zealots,” he began carefully. “They will stop at nothing to obtain the Avun-Riah. They believe their leader Empeth can summon demons in the guise of men, and that when the time is right he will summon The Four into the world of man. The Four will then kill the unbelievers and deliver the Avun-Riah to the place of atonement.”

“Where is this place,” asked Vain.

“The writings we have say nothing of its exact location, although they do mention a land in the West, possibly somewhere in America. When the child is sacrificed they assert the Earth will plunge into darkness for a thousand years, during which the impure will be cleansed, and only the true followers of Sordarrah will be left to inhabit the world.”

Vain pondered the old man’s words. The Souls of Sordarrah were fanatical–he had already seen what their beliefs could drive them to. The Four could be merely skilled assassins like himself–dangerous, but still vulnerable to death if it came down to it. If they wanted to have the boy back in America, simply staying away from there should eliminate the issue. After all, it was only months until the time of the sacrifice, and if they survived long enough they might have to hide no longer.

“I need weapons old man, where can I find them?” asked Vain.

“W-weapons?” responded Father Armadeuso incredulously. “What makes you think I would know anything about weapons?”

“Why did that black bastard send me to you? Are you going to be any help at all or just continue rambling on about hocus-pocus bullshit?” sneered the assassin. “If you don’t know where I can buy guns, could you kindly point me in the direction of somebody who does?”

Father Armadeuso ignored the Dark Man’s scorn. “I believe there is a gun shop owner on Portecelli Avenue who may be able to assist you. A man told one of the other priests in confession that he had bought some guns illegally from him about a month ago.”

“I thought confession is supposed to be kept secret father. Do you treat all of the church’s sacraments so lightly?”

The old priest shrugged his shoulders. “I think when you’re facing the end of the world, God won’t mind a few little slips along the way.”

Vain fixed the priest with an impassive stare before grinning. “I may come to like you yet old man. Keep sinning for a few more years and we might even manage to be friends. Just try to avoid the temptation of those little altar boys.”

Father Armadeuso grew speechless with rage while Vain walked off chuckling loudly, pausing at the door to collect Sebastian. “We need to stay here for a while, organize something while we’re out.”

Father Armadeuso stood frozen to the spot for a long time after the two had disappeared.  He wondered what was worse; the Avun-Riah in the hands of the Souls of Sordarrah, or under the protection of the Dark Man.

* * * *

Vain met with the short, pug-faced gun shop owner that afternoon. At first the man refused adamantly to sell the assassin anything without the proper ID or licenses, but soon changed his tune when Vain produced a thick wad of bills from the pocket of his black jacket.

“I really need these guns to take my son hunting this weekend,” he lied smoothly. “Could you please assist me? I’m willing to pay whatever you want.”

Whatever he wanted turned out to be almost four times the normal price, but Vain simply smiled stiffly and handed over the money.

“Come again,” called out the shop owner as they left.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Vain returned coldly over his shoulder.

When they arrived back at the church they found arrangements had been made for them to stay in a small villa close by. Several days passed and they rarely left their rooms except to go to the library where Father Armadeuso had left the secret tomes of Sordarrah for Vain to read. He refused to let the assassin take the books from the church grounds and vehemently denied Vain when he’d tried.

“I need these books you old bastard,” Vain had protested. “I need to know my enemy and I don’t want to sit in this stuffy hole to study them.”

“You can ask me,” Father Armadeuso replied, “I know everything there is within those pages.”

“You’re even stuffier than the library,” Vain snapped. “I could just take the books you know. There’s nobody here who could stop me.”

That had brought a chuckle from the old priest. “If you take the books from holy ground, Empeth will feel it. He will know where you are and come to Rome looking for you.”

“More bullshit.” Vain rolled his eyes.

“Maybe,” agreed Father Armadeuso, “but do you want to take that risk? I think you’re starting to run out of countries willing to accept your fake passport.”

Finally, Sebastian settled the matter, convincing the Dark Man to come to the library with him. “It will give us a chance to get out and see the town a little bit, just in case we need to get somewhere quickly again.”

Vain caught his meaning and reluctantly agreed. It would be good to see the area around them in case they had to run again, and going to the library afforded a reasonable excuse. During one of these sojourns, a visitor arrived to see them. The library was empty, and Vain heard the light footsteps slowly approach.

“Well, well. Finally I have found you.”

Vain reached for the Glock pistol concealed within his jacket. “There is no need for that, Dark Man, we are old friends and should have no use for weapons.”

The speaker moved into sight. Sebastian gasped.
It was Priest!
Yet something chillingly darker lingered about the man that Vain couldn’t quite place.

“Stay where you are, boy.” Vain slid smoothly to his feet. “What’s going on Priest? We were certain you were dead when we left you. There’s no way you could have survived those wounds.”

“Ah yes, the wounds. Well, Empeth was nice enough to heal those so that I could come here for you. Unfortunately your friend Priest couldn’t come as well. There wasn’t enough room in here for the two of us.” The visitor smiled darkly.

Vain noticed a mark on the man’s brow, briefly caught in the candlelight. A pattern of interwoven lines constantly moved beneath his skin, almost as if something were crawling in the same pattern just below the surface, over and over again.

“Who are you?” asked Vain coolly. Sebastian looked on quizzically, but remained silent.

“Perhaps you have heard of me, Dark Man,” Priest’s form pronounced calmly. “I am Sekiel. I am Death. The last of The Four to be reborn and I am hungry, so give me the boy or get out of my way!”

Two cracks echoed from the walls. The shots were possibly the fastest in Vain’s career, but they were to no avail. Both bullets hit Sekiel square in the chest, failing even to draw a pause. The bullets simply stopped short and crumpled on impact, making two light clunks dropping to the floor.

Sekiel brushed the spot where the bullets had struck with the back of his hand, like shooing away an annoying insect. His hand shot forward with lightning speed making to grab the assassin, yet equally suddenly it was flung back roughly seeming to have hit an invisible barrier.

Sekiel cradled his hand, apparently stung from the incident. “Unfortunately my powers are weak here and I am unable to deal with you whilst you cower
on holy ground
.” He almost spat the words. “I guess we’ll just have to wait for you to leave. You can’t stay in here forever.”

Sekiel turned and strode from the library, his words taunting the frustrated assassin and terrifying the boy.

* * * *

“We have to get you out of here now boy.” Vain quickly grabbed Sebastian’s hand.

“Wait,” pleaded Sebastian, pulling his hand from the Dark Man’s grasp. “They will know the exits. We must find another way.”

Vain weighed their options and cursed himself for his stupidity. What had he been thinking? To tell the truth, Sekiel scared the assassin in a way no other living thing ever had, even before his display of power. Gritting his teeth, Vain pushed aside his panic and calmed his thoughts.

Escape.

Looking around he noted four main exits. Anticipating his enemies would have all four covered, he examined other possibilities. The windows above were too high to carry the boy to, and even if he could, he doubted they could both jump to an adjoining rooftop, the closest being at least twelve feet away.

A priest entered the library to investigate the noises and instantly Vain grabbed him and pulled him aside.

“Did you see anyone outside?” Vain hissed at the startled priest.

“A man dressed in black, like you. His eyes were the same.”

“How do you mean?” asked Vain.

“They were... dead.”

Vain grimaced and released the frightened priest. “What lies below the library?” he asked.

“Nothing... except for the sewers.”

“Can we get to them?” asked Vain.

“Well, yes I suppose you could go through the grill in the basement, but why would you want to do such a thing?” The priest frowned.

“Just for the atmosphere of the place, father,” grunted Vain dryly. “Can’t get enough of it. Now shut up and show us the way.”

The terrified priest moved to the corner behind the unattended library desk and lifted a rug. Beneath it lay a square trapdoor which the assassin quickly pulled open. The priest handed Vain a small torch from underneath the desk and stepped back.

“Is there anything you want me to tell Father Armadeuso?” he asked tremulously.

“Yes. Tell the old bastard to pray for us,” muttered Vain, descending the iron ladder.

Sebastian thanked the priest politely before following the assassin into the dark basement where Vain knelt near the corner.

“Here, hold this,” said the assassin, handing Sebastian the torch. Vain then grasped the metal grill with both hands and strained to tear it from the bricks setting it into the floor. The Dark Man’s muscles bulged beneath his jacket until, with a low groan, he finally tore the grill out and flung it aside with a loud clang.

“You didn’t have to be so rude to him you know,” Sebastian rebuked him softly.

“What?” Vain turned roughly to look at the boy, incomprehension furrowing his brow.

“The priest. He only meant to help. You could see he was scared.”