“Okay, so we’re going to head across to the right and continue down that path for around four miles or so—”
“Four miles!” Phil shouts. “Are you kidding me? I’ll die out here in this outfit in four miles.”
Matthew laughs.
“I have water for us. It won’t take us too long if we start moving now.”
“No time like the present,” Matthew says as he taps Phil on the back.
“Fuck,” Phil whispers under his breath, just loud enough for Matthew to hear.
Hermon conducts his prayer and they all set off on foot. Matthew puts his hand inside his pocket and feels the edges of the crucifix. He holds it in his hand and silently prays to God, requesting guidance, love and support. He feels a sudden tingling sensation up his spine that travels to his heart, creating a surge of warmth. He decides against announcing this, for fear of freaking out Phil and Hermon. Matthew stays quiet and continues walking.
The minutes feel like hours and the hours feel like days. Matthew’s feet are beginning to hurt and his ankles feel swollen. Desperate to get to the destination, but urgently needing some rest, Matthew stops and puts his hands on his knees as he bends down to catch his breath.
“Hermon, pal, how long do we have left?” Matthew asks, huffing and puffing away.
“Yeah, come on, mate, I feel like we’ve been walking round in circles,” Phil agrees, fanning himself with his hat.
Hermon points to the right and says, “It’s just over that hill there.”
Matthew walks quicker than he’s walked all day, battling against the stones and rocks. They reach the top. He can see them out to the other side of the hill – the ancient rock-cut tombs that Hermon had been describing during their walk.
“Can you believe it… All this time and we’ve finally made it.” Matthew’s emotions are running high.
Tears begin to well in his eyes. This ancient rock-cut tomb might be just some derelict land that holds history and stories, but to Matthew, this place is so much more. These rocky caverns hold his future. His life. His everything. Falling to his knees, Matthew is unable to hold himself together.
“God knows I pray he’s right, Phil.”
“I know, mate,” Phil says as he kneels with his friend and holds him. “I know.”
Joining the pair, Hermon says, “Beautiful isn’t it, lads?”
“Breathtaking,” Matthew responds. He wipes his face, clears his throat and dusts himself off.
“So, the answer is in there?” Phil asks.
“I believe so. But there is only one sure-fire way to find out.” Opening his backpack, Hermon retrieves three torches. “Here,” he says, passing them a torch each. “I don’t believe there will be much in the way of lighting inside so we’ll need all the help we can get.”
“So, what is it we’re looking for?” Matthew asks, his voice still somewhat hoarse.
“From the visions, I’ve seen that the answers we seek are hidden behind a wall.”
“Oh great!” Phil exclaims. “How the blooming heck do we find a hidden wall in that thing over there?”
“Don’t worry, our ancestors did not make this task impossible for us. They left clear markings upon the chosen wall. They’re drawings that resemble those of our Egyptian ancestors.”
“Oh, like hieroglyphics?” says Phil.
“Yes. Exactly,” Hermon replies.
“See – not just a pretty face,” Phil says with a rather proud expression.
“You might have a pretty face, but your fashion sense is terrible.” Matthew laughs.
“Oi, leave it out.”
“Sorry, Hermon,” Matthew says. “What were you saying? These hieroglyphics that we need to look out for – what are they exactly?”
“I will know them when I see them.” Hermon says as he begins walking towards the tomb.
“Well, we best follow him,” Matthew says.
Stumbling their way down the hill, they eventually reach the tombs. Matthew can’t believe how big they are – from afar, they looked small, but they’re easily the size of the Colosseum in Rome, and that’s just the outside. Matthew’s heart begins to race.
Looking to Phil, he says, “What do you think, does this location really hold the truth on how to defeat that evil bitch?”
“Well mate, there’s only one way to find out.” Putting out his hand, Phil says, “After you.”
“Ever the gent.” Matthew laughs.
As he enters, Matthew’s nose is hit by the pungent stench of decaying corpses. There’s no denying something or someone is rotting inside here. With his torch in one hand and the other hand firmly placed over his mouth, Matthew follows Hermon’s lead. Flashing the light up above, he jumps as a group of bats swoop down in his direction. A collection of screeches from the bats and screams from Matthew and Hermon radiate round the tomb. There’s a scuffling noise and Matthew looks down to see Phil on the ground.
“I’m so sorry,” Matthew says, helping his friend up.
“I think it’s best we keep our lights shining directly ahead of us,” Hermon says quietly. We don’t want to disturb anything.”
Dusting himself off, Phil says, “How long we gonna be in here?”
“I think it’s just this way,” Hermon says, moving on.
The energy is eerie and yet familiar. As they travel deeper inside, Matthew hears children singing.
“Wait,” he says, putting out his hands. “Can you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Phil and Hermon both say.
“You can’t hear those children singing?”
“Mate, don’t start joking around and shit. This is not the place of the time to be playing pranks.”
“I’m being serious. They’re singing Ring a’ Ring o’ roses. That’s her fucking song. I’m not lying. That’s it.”
“We must be getting close,” Hermon says. “Let’s keep going.”
As he takes his next step, Matthew gets an intense tingling sensation down his spine. And just like that, the singing turns into insane childlike laughter. Crying out, Matthew closes his eyes and puts his hands to his ears. Unfortunately for him, the noise isn’t coming from an outside source. It’s circulating inside his mind. No sooner has he closed his eyes, he sees the children playing with sticks and stones as they sing along to the haunting nursery rhyme. Opening his eyes, Matthew jumps as he sees Phil in front of his face. He can see his mouth moving but he can’t hear any words coming out of his mouth. The only thing Matthew can hear is his own breathing, and it’s getting heavier.
Matthew backs up against the wall. He feels claustrophobic and there’s nowhere to turn. Opening his backpack, Hermon grabs a small vial of liquid. Pulling the cork, he throws the liquid on to Matthew.
Feeling a burning sensation, Matthew cries out. He falls to the ground, his breathing erratic. He can now hear again and the sound of Hermon chanting in what must be Hebrew reaches his ears.
Kneeling next to him, his face sweaty and his hands shaking, Hermon says, “I am so sorry. I should have warned you. Matthew, you are going to be affected here. You are the chosen one on behalf of mankind. The children do not want you to stop the entity from taking vengeance upon the world that neglected them, and so they’re going to try and weaken you and tear you down from the inside out.”
Clutching at his chest and putting out his hand to Phil, Matthew replies, “Yeah. Thanks for the warning. So I can expect more of that, then?”
Hermon reaches inside his backpack. “Here, take this,” he says, passing Matthew some rosary beads.
Matthew places the beads around his neck.
“This way,” Hermon says.
As they continue walking, every now and then, the walls shake. Matthew has lost all concept of time. They walk on for what feels like an hour, but is more likely five or ten minutes. Matthew bumps into Hermon a
s he comes to an abrupt halt.
“I don’t believe it.”
“What?” Matthew asks.
“There…” Hermon points to his right.
Shining his torch, Matthew sees a ginormous marking of an oversized bird with its wings spread on the wall. Underneath the bird are what appear to be figures of children in the hundreds, maybe even thousands. It’s a sea of small childlike figures. Walking up to the wall, Matthew grazes his fingers against the markings. The texture is rough. Each childlike figure he touches gives him a slight tingling sensation and tears well inside his eyes. Trapped souls. Tiny, trapped souls, just waiting to be saved and released into the serenity of the abyss of afterlife.
Placing his head to the wall, Matthew whispers, “I will release you.”
A silent tear slides down his face.
Matthew jumps as Hermon shouts, “Guys, this way, here’s the rest of them.”
Catching up with him, Matthew can see that Hermon’s energy is high. He’s overly enthusiastic about his findings. Matthew gets a sense that Hermon didn’t truly believe what he saw in his visions, and yet now that it’s in front of him, he’s forgotten the sinister reason why they’re actually inside the tombs. Shining his torch around once more, Matthew sees markings. Walking towards them, Matthew homes in on that of a crucifix piercing a heart, and one of a baby.
“Look, here’s the rock I saw in my vision,” Hermon announces as he sets down his backpack and retrieves his tools. “Lads, can you shine your torches over here for me, please.
“Sure,” Matthew says.
“We’re almost there. We’ve almost got the answers,” Hermon says excitedly.
“What is it exactly on the other side?” Phil asks.
“From what I’ve seen, it’s a scroll laced with gold.”
“Oh shit,” Phil says.
As he chisels away, the walls begin to shudder.
“You’re going to have to hit it harder than that, mate,” Phil says.
“I know, my glasses just keep slipping.”
“Give it here,” Matthew says, passing Hermon his torch in exchange for the tools.
With a swing of his arm and a bang on the hammer against the metal chisel, the rock instantly cracks and shatters to dust.
“Now what?” Matthew asks.
“Reach your hand in,” Hermon says.
“Not a fucking chance.”
“You have to, Matthew. Clearly these walls are weak to you. It has to be you.”
Closing his eyes, Matthew holds his breath as he places his hand inside the gaping black hole.
“What can you feel?”
“Nothing, it’s just another rock.”
“Push it,” Hermon says.
Pushing the rock with all his might, Matthew hears a click. And just like that, the hidden door opens. Cringing at the sound of scraping rock, Matthew retrieves his torch from Hermon and shines it into the darkened space. There, in pride of place, surrounded by markings galore, is the golden laced scroll.
“Oh my, I was right,” Hermon says, bouncing up and down.
“What now?”
“Matthew, you must go and collect it.”
“What, on my own?”
“Yes, I’m afraid that if we all go inside, we might cause a stir. It is safer for us all if you go in alone.”
Looking to Phil, Matthew says nothing. But the fear he feels can most certainly be seen in his eyes.
“You’ve got this, mate,” Phil says. “Just think, you’re doing it for the kids. It’s almost over.”
Creeping his way into the space, Matthew shines his torch on the walls. There are markings everywhere. Children with dark eyes, fire, upside-down crosses, and everything of the impure kind has been carved into the space.
“What can you see, Matthew?” Hermon shouts.
“I’ll tell you when I get out,” Matthew hollers back. “What have you come for?” Matthew asks. Each marking is more disturbing than the last.
Breathing deeply, he focuses on the task in hand. Kissing the rosary beads around his neck, Matthew reaches out and quickly grabs the scroll and then runs towards the doorway. The walls begin to shake, and rocks fall from a great height.
“Run!” Hermon shouts.
Matthew makes it out of the hole by milliseconds, grazing his hand as the door almost closes on him. Catching up to Hermon and Phil, Matthew falls to the ground as the sound of children giggling penetrates his eardrum.
“Argh!” he cries out.
Phil runs back to Matthew and shouts something, but there is no sound again – Matthew can only see his mouth moving. It’s as if time has slowed down and all reality has been lost. Now the walls are shaking, and the rocks are falling at a rather dangerous rate. Any minute now they’re going to be trapped inside the tomb, with no way out. Grabbing Matthew by his arms, Phil and Hermon carry him. The noise of the children is unbearable.
“Why?” Matthew shouts. “I will release you. I will release you,” he cries repeatedly.
They just manage to get out of the tombs before the whole building caves in. Smothered by a cloud of sandy coloured dust from the crumbling rocks, Matthew, Phil and Hermon cough profusely while they lie on the ground. Matthew retches from the dust that’s lodged at the back of his throat, then throws up. His ears are ringing, and he feels as though he’s going to pass out at any minute.
He peers to his left and sees Phil coughing. Strings of saliva drip from his mouth. Feeling lightheaded, Matthew reaches out his hand. “Phil. Help me,” he says right before his eyes close.
And he’s out!
Chapter Sixteen
“You Will Obey Me.”
Eve is stuck inside the depths of her own mind. She has been flung into the all too familiar forbidden forest, and there’s nothing but darkness surrounding her. Wearing a white cotton gown, she sits on the ground. Her hand is filled with leaves and soil. Something slimy wiggles between her fingers, and she flings the contents of her hand away. Shaking from head to toe, she wipes the residue onto her gown.
“Please…” she cries out. “Honey, where are you?”
“Ring a’ Ring o’ Roses… Remember me now?”
Pain surges through Eve’s eyes as they transform. The white disappears, and they become gaping holes in her face.
“Hmm, so compliant.” Jezebel appears in the distance, beneath the trees. She drags her feet towards Eve, who is still sitting on the floor crying out in agony.
The tingling sensation takes over her entire body and the transition is finally complete. She’s now in her true form. A mirror reflection of her owner!
“Stand,” Jezebel demands.
Without hesitation, Eve rises to her feet.
“My chosen one… How loyal you once were.”
“Dark—”
“Do not speak until I command you to!”
Eve shakes from head to toe as fear travels around her body. Her head low, she doesn’t dare make eye contact with Jezebel.
“That’s better.” Putting her finger under Eve’s chin, she lifts her head. “Have I not given you everything?”
“Yes, Dark Empress.”
“Then why do I get the distinct feeling you’re attempting to betray me?”
“I… I… don’t know, Dark Empress.”
Breathing heavily, Eve sees Jezebel’s bottomless eyes staring directly into hers. Behind those dark lenses, Eve sees something she’s never seen before. It’s children. Thousands of tiny children. Positioned in groups, they’re dancing around and around in circles, holding each other’s hands.
“Do you know why I have summonsed you here?”
“No, Dark Empress.”
“Well, I’ll tell you.” Jezebel lets go of Eve’s chin. “I have summonsed you here for you to pick where your loyalties lie. By the time we leave this
beautiful sadistic creation of mine, you will either be alive and ready to take charge of our universe as we’ve always planned and been destined for, or your soul will be crushed, and you will cease to exist.”
As the words register inside Eve’s mind, she suffers an almighty gut-wrenching pain.
“Do you understand?”
Trying to be strong and not show her internal pain, Eve replies, “Yes, Dark Empress.”
“Yes, Dark Empress what?”
“Yes, Dark Empress, I understand.”
“It has been brought to my attention once more that you have been communicating with others outside of our realm.”
Raising her arms, Jezebel stares intently at Eve. Feeling her feet lift from the ground, Eve panics.
“Please, no,” she begs.
As Jezebel clench her fists, Eve’s throat becomes tight. Something is suffocating her from the inside. As she’s being choked to death, Eve sees Honey’s beautiful face. She cannot die this way. She must do and say anything she can to get home and protect her daughter. Choking, gasping and feeling as if at any moment the last molecule of life is going to leave her body, Eve manages to summon just enough strength to beg for her life a final time. “Please…”
Bringing down her arms abruptly, Jezebel shouts, “Moriere Tradet!”
Eve drops to the ground, coughing and retching as she desperately tries to regulate her breathing. The veins on her head begin pulsating. Her head is swollen, bright red and heavy. Dirt is sticking to her face.
“Get up, Eve,” Thomas’s voice whispers in her head. “Do it for your daughter.”
Aware that she cannot show any weakness, Eve manages to stumble up to her feet. There is no way she’s going to die in the forbidden forest, never to be found again. She will get back to her daughter, and she will protect her. She now stands tall, with her head held high. Her chest still moves at a rapid rate, but this time she is staring Jezebel directly in the eye. Never again will she allow her to try and kill her. Eve clenches her fists.
“Anger. I like it,” Jezebel says as she basks in the glory of her torture. “Made your choice, have you?” A deceitful smirk spreads across her face.
The Broken IV: Vengeance Page 14