The Dark Path Page 19

  Vain looked at the boy who he now carried. Large for his age, he still couldn’t have been over fourteen; the younger one would have been lucky to have reached eleven. Too young to know so much about the pain of life and death.

  The trio finally arrived at what passed for the boys’ home–a building almost as dilapidated as Vain’s own apartment block. They climbed the crumbling staircase to the third floor, and the older boy, who Vain now knew to be Tony, fumbled in his pocket until finally producing a tarnished key, which Vain took and unlocked the door with.

  The three moved inside, Vain half dragging Tony to the lounge where he crumpled feebly. The younger boy closed the door behind them and moved towards his brother.

  “No Mikey, I’m okay,” said Tony softly. “Go and check on mom.”

  “Okay Tony.” The younger boy moved to the only other door in the apartment and opened it, quietly stepping inside.

  Vain looked back down to where Tony lay on the lounge and saw the boy had again passed out. Remembering Gabriel’s words about the potential uses of the Glimloche, Vain sat beside him and honed his concentration before looking into the boy’s chest using the power within him. He had never attempted this before and he was unsure how it would end. He hoped the boy’s chest didn’t explode in a bloody mess, but he couldn’t be sure.

  Gradually the view he was trying to obtain came clearer, and he could almost see through the boy’s chest like an x-ray. Although his heart continued pumping, its rhythm seemed erratic. Blood squirted from one side of the organ, splashing the outside wall of his right lung.

  Cursing, Vain honed his concentration further and, on impulse, tried to seal the minute hole that lay in the side of the boy’s heart. This required more skill than Vain had ever needed from the Glimloche. He failed to seal the hole on the first try, but managed to succeed on the second. Methodically he checked each of the other organs in the boy’s chest before gently sending a pulsing flow of energy into the heart, settling its erratic beat.

  Vain withdrew his power from the boy and gazed down. Tony’s breathing had steadied, his color slowly returning to normal. He appeared now to be merely in a deep sleep. Vain sighed softly and stood, walking across the room to where the bedroom lay. The assassin heard sobbing coming from within the room. Quietly he crossed the small space to where the boy Mikey kneeled beside what Vain at first thought to be the corpse of a woman. Only when he noticed the scant rising of her chest did the Dark Man realize the woman still lived. Curious about his new-found healing powers, he plunged himself into the woman’s disease-ridden husk.

  Immediately Vain was attacked by the cancer that dwelled within the woman. Surging his power through her body he sought out and destroyed the cancer cells wherever he found them, but just when he felt he might be winning the fight, the woman’s heart fluttered, then gave out.

  NO! he roared mentally, and sent a surging burst of dark flame through the woman’s veins and into her heart, restarting it with an abrupt jolt. Quickly he returned his attention to the cancer cells that seemed to have trebled in their ferocity, sensing they were under attack. Almost as quickly as he could destroy them, cancers appeared in other areas of her body. Once he thought the lungs were purged of disease, he sensed the cells swelling inside her lymph glands. Again and again he had to return to areas he thought were clear in order to fight off the disease.

  After almost an hour, Vain finally returned to his own body–exhausted. The boys’ mother was now free of the cancer, her breathing becoming steadily deeper, her flesh less sallow. The woman’s face lost the look of torment that had wracked it and now wore an expression of great peace.

  Little Mikey stared at the transformation, unable to comprehend what had just occurred. “What happened to mommy?” he asked Vain. “She looks wonderful!”

  “Your mom’s okay now kid, don’t worry.”

  “How did you do that? Are you an angel?”

  Vain felt uncomfortable under the young boy’s gaze and glanced away. A thought occurred to him and he said quickly, “I have to go and get something. I’ll be back soon, okay?” Mikey nodded, and Vain moved swiftly from the apartment.

  The assassin soon returned to the boys’ home with a large briefcase. He’d left it in a long-term storage locker in the event trouble ever arose, and he couldn’t access his own apartment.

  Tony was now awake and full of questions about his mother’s recovery, but Vain waved them away. Placing the briefcase upon the table the Dark Man turned back to where Tony stood.

  “This is for you and your family. Make good use of it, and look after your mom and brother. And one more thing, get away from that mob you’ve been hanging around–only a coward needs a gang for courage, okay?” Tony nodded silently, and without a word of farewell Vain turned and departed the apartment.

  “Hey Tony,” called Mikey, examining the briefcase. “Who’s Guido Bucelli?”

  “Why?”

  “Because this has his name on it,” he said, flipping open the locks and lifting the lid....

  * * * *

  Vain walked from the building shaking his head, unable to believe what had just happened. Attacked by a group of hoods intent on robbing him, instead of killing them as his instincts had screamed, he’d helped two of them home, healing one, then curing their mother of inoperable cancer. To top it all off, he had given them a briefcase containing two million dollars!

  Idiot!

  First Priest, then Sebastian, and now Gabriel. One by one they had managed to make the Dark Man reconsider his ethics. Now he found himself at the point where he’d begun helping people in need. Looking back at his life before meeting these people, the Vain of old would never have allowed the boy to live tonight, let alone help his family and donate a small fortune in cash!

  Who was he, Santa Clause? Maybe he should put on a cape and tights and fly around the city, solving crimes and saving kittens.

  Stupidity!

  Eventually arriving back at his own apartment, Vain hesitated at the door. He didn’t want any more words of wisdom from Gabriel to make him question his existence.

  “I don’t want to be anything else,” he whispered to himself. “I am Vain, nothing else matters.” But the words did nothing to ease the anxiety roiling within his mind. He had always been so sure of himself before, what was happening to him?

  Vain entered the apartment with his expression set in stone. Gabriel still sat at the table, as though he hadn’t moved. He turned to look at Vain and smiled with genuine pleasure.

  “I am glad you have returned safely,” he said. “For a while there I worried you might have been mugged by some street kids.”

  Whether his words were merely coincidence or some ethereal power that Gabriel possessed, Vain didn’t care. He ignored the comment and moved towards his mattress. The healing of the boy Tony and his mother had drained him more than he liked to admit, and he felt an urgent need for rest.

  Just as he was falling asleep, Gabriel said, “I am very proud of what you did tonight Dark Man, and I am sorry for how I made you feel earlier.”

  Vain glanced up at his companion and frowned. “Just don’t get too used to it okay. I’m not what you think I am. I’m nobody’s hero. I am simply me. Vain. And that’s all I want to be.”

  “Perhaps,” whispered Gabriel. “We shall wait and see.”

  Cursing quietly, Vain rolled over and drifted off into sleep.

  * * * *

  The roaring of surf broke Vain’s slumber. Rising through the fogginess of sleep, he sat up. Golden sand stretched to the horizon, sculpted by the waves curling and crashing against the shore. He stood, seemingly alone, the sound of the surf his only companion.

  “Do you enjoy this image, Vain?” asked a voice from behind him.

  Spinning around, the assassin saw the old woman who had called herself Xamiel. The same woman who had later revealed herself as Satan.

  “What do you want, you old hag?” hissed Vain.

  A shimmer of annoyance flashed
across Xamiel’s brow. “How disappointing. Perhaps I want nothing, maybe I am merely lonely. You have no idea how tedious eternity can be when locked in this perpetual land of no life. I can create anything I want, but it will never live the way you do. It will not breathe or grow unless I make it.”

  “What do you want?”

  Xamiel’s appearance shimmered and changed. Before Vain now stood a man in his mid-twenties, with shoulder-length brown hair crowning a face of incredible magnificence. Dressed casually in a light blue silk shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows and tails flapping loosely outside a pair of cream-colored slacks, he casually strolled barefoot to where Vain stood by the water and smiled dazzlingly at the assassin. Only the eyes didn’t change. They still held the deep well of power that Vain had seen the first time they met.

  “Very pretty Xamiel, but it still doesn’t answer my question,” growled Vain.

  “Please, call me Lucifer.”

  “Fine, Lucifer. Now what do you fucking want?”

  “Very well, I shall get to my point earlier than I had intended. Gabriel is going to betray you.”

  “Oh really,” mocked Vain.

  “Yes really, you ignorant little man,” snapped Lucifer, his cloak of beatitude momentarily slipping. Realizing his lapse almost immediately, his mask slid smoothly back into place and he smiled gently.

  “Why?” inquired Vain.

  “Why what?”

  “Why would he betray me? What does he have to gain?”

  “Who knows?” mused Lucifer vaguely. “Perhaps he wants to conquer the realm of Earth for himself. Maybe he’s grown sick of playing second-fiddle to his so-called God. I did, why shouldn’t he? The point is: he will try to deceive you when you go to the house. You should destroy him immediately.”

  “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I’ve already tried.”

  “That was before you knew how to use the Glimloche’s powers. You could erase him from existence with a mere thought now.”

  “How do you know what’s been going on up there?” asked Vain. “From what I can tell, you have no way of interacting with the human realm; otherwise you’d be causing all sorts of havoc.”

  “You misjudge me, Dark Man,” smiled Lucifer smoothly. “I am not the source of evil I have been made out to be. History is written by the victors and, as you know, I did not win. For all you know, this God who everyone claims is so wonderful and benevolent could be the real evil in the cosmos. After all, didn’t he take your wife and daughter from you? Does that seem like the work of a holy being?

  “Doesn’t the Bible tell of the wrath of God against the Egyptians, killing the first-born child of every house? The being who calls itself Gabriel is the one who did this! He is the Angel of Death for a God who hates mankind! It wasn’t until that incredible publicist named Jesus Christ emerged on the scene that everyone started thinking God was this compassionate father who looked after mankind. If that’s the case, why are wars being waged throughout the world? Millions being slaughtered every day from famine and disease? Where is your God now?”

  “He is not my God,” responded Vain unemotionally.

  A look of victory crossed Lucifer’s face. “Then why do you run his tasks for him. If he is so powerful, why does he not smite down the followers of Sordarrah, and lift the boy up into the heavens? Why do you run and play fetch when he commands it? Are you merely an errand boy for this God who cares nothing for you?”

  The assassin’s cold gaze hardened. “I am nobody’s errand boy.”

  “Prove it! Destroy the archangel and join me. Together we will be unstoppable. We shall rule the universe side by side.”

  Vain stood silently for a moment, feeling the sand between his toes, and listening to the crashing of the surf upon the shore. “You forgot something,” he whispered.

  Lucifer looked to the assassin quizzically. “What?”

  “There is no breeze.” Lucifer smiled and was about to say something when Vain added, “And the boy, you forgot about the boy. What happens to him?”

  “The boy is inconsequential,” cooed Lucifer persuasively. “Together we will be able to destroy Sordarrah and his minions, and cast God from the very heavens.”

  “It is said,” began Vain, his voice suddenly turning to ice, “that you are the Prince of Lies. I see now that you are also the Prince of Fools. The universe means nothing to me. God means nothing to me. The only thing that matters to me is the boy. Goodbye Lucifer, if we meet again I shall try my very best to destroy you.”

  Lucifer bellowed furiously, the scene changing immediately from one of beauty to one of immeasurable horror. The sand split and spewed forth stewing rivers of feces. The sky cracked open and rained torrents of blood. A score of beasts rose up from the mounds of excrement that now scattered the beach, and the rush of the surf became the grinding of machinery. Vain glanced towards the sound and saw piles of human bones, some still wrapped with decaying flesh, being devoured by huge crushing machines, hundreds of smiling human teeth arrayed on rollers.

  The assassin turned back to where Lucifer stood, only now the image of the beautiful man was gone, replaced with a figure who towered almost eleven feet. Gnarled muscles burst forth under the corpse-grey skin of the beast’s limbs and torso. Enormous claws grew from the fingers of each hand, glinting wickedly sharp. The creature’s head no longer bore any resemblance to that of a man. Broken like a jackal’s skull, fangs the size of daggers filled the gaping maw, while the ears were stunted, but sharp. There were no eyes, only gaping sockets that constantly dribbled blood across the cracked skin of the cheekbones, down the neck and chest of the beast.

  “Now you see the true beauty of the master of Hell,” roared the beast. “Make the most of it Dark Man, for it is the last thing you shall ever see. You spurned your chance to rule at my side, now your soul is forfeit, for I will ensure it is destroyed utterly. Soon there won’t even be a memory of the assassin named Vain. Do you have anything else you’d like to add before I devour your essence? Say something funny now to Satan, Lord of the Underworld!”

  “I do have one thing to say,” said Vain calmly. “You’d better let me go if you want to live. If you kill me now, be assured your death won’t be far behind.”

  “Ha! You think I am scared of the power of the Glimloche? I who created that cursed thing with my own essence?” Satan grinned maliciously. “The thing inside of you is me, you fool! How do you think I was able to bring you to this place? You cannot hurt me with myself. Now prepare for oblivion.”

  “If you kill me, the boy will be sacrificed.”

  Satan burst forth with a loud mocking laugh. “You think I care about some stupid brat? I hope he dies in torment, cursing your name.”

  “If he dies, Sordarrah goes free to conquer the human realm. He will then be more powerful than you, and I would guess he might soon return here to visit his revenge upon you. I imagine he won’t have too much trouble achieving it.”

  Satan’s expression darkened to one of utter malevolence. “You think you have outsmarted me, don’t you mortal?” he scoffed. “Well, human, return to Earth with this knowledge. I can always get to you while you carry the Glimloche. Once you have saved your little boy, I will drag you back here screaming, and you will experience an eternity of suffering the likes of which no mortal has ever known.”

  “I think I prefer your threats to your promises, you retarded grey bastard.”

  “BE GONE!!” thundered Satan, and Vain vanished.

  Chapter Fifteen: Death

  Squirrel was going to die. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that his shitty life would soon come to an abrupt end. And the worst thing was, he didn’t want it to finish. Sitting in the freezing, dank room of the house, he began to consider all of the things he had done wrong in his life.

  He sat, trapped in his thoughts, for a long time.

  He remembered how he had stolen money from his family. He had used the cash on one of his first schemes to make money, and had succeeded admirably, bu
t his father couldn’t see past the fact that he had stolen from his own blood. He had disowned Gary, telling him he’d disgraced the family, proclaiming he no longer had a son.

  Those words haunted Squirrel for years and had driven him to strive for greatness. Deep inside, he’d always wanted to return to his family and show them what a success he had become. He’d imagined perhaps if he’d walked up to his father with a wad of cash the man would’ve thrown his arms around his son and told him what a fool he had been.

  I was the fool, he thought bitterly. All I had to do was apologize and swallow my pride. He would have taken me back, and I could have hugged him, and everything would have been okay again. Now I’ll never have the chance.

  After an eternity lost in his thoughts, Squirrel’s reflection ruptured when the door to the room burst open, and five men walked in. Squirrel scrutinized them all closely, trying to determine the leader of the group, and thus the one to whom he should direct his pleas. Though certain of his doom, he wouldn’t die without at least trying to save himself.

  Why save yourself? What possible reason is there for you to live? You are a bum without a single soul to mourn you when you die.

  He had no answers. After a life full of failures he realized that if he had another chance he would do it all differently. He would sober up and take his existence seriously. Nobody owed him anything in this life, and the sooner he understood this and woke up to his situation, the sooner he could get himself back on track.

  Well he had woken up.

  Regrettably, he’d woken up at that unfortunate instant when it no longer counted.

  All five men looked to have been broken from completely different moulds, but were all somehow similar–a dark presence in their eyes perhaps. Squirrel noticed that one of them, a black man, he had seen somewhere before. Upon closer inspection he realized that the man appeared subtly dissimilar from the others, and Squirrel racked his damaged brain to establish the difference.