The Second Seal

by Sean Deville

  “Oh no,” said Damien. “They have no idea I’m coming for them. That’s what makes the hunt so easy. Sometimes it’s boring.”

  “And if you were back on the streets now would you continue in the hunt?”

  “Most certainly. I can taste them, dozens of fetid souls that are tainting this world.” Damien said those words through gritted teeth which caused the four men behind Vicky to stir. “There are two in this prison, trapped behind these bars.” Even more reason to keep Damien out of the general prison population.

  “Do you think they know their real father?” Vicky was happy to use Damien’s own insanity to her benefit.

  “I think some have a hint of it, but most of the ones Legion killed were oblivious. I am only aware through the insights given to me by Legion. This is why I believe I am the one that will be chosen.”

  “Chosen?”

  “Why do you think Lucifer puts his seed into so many women? It isn’t because he likes fucking sweet young pussy.”

  “Damien, you know respect is a two-way street, right?” Vicky felt confident she could control the conversation now, which meant admonishing Damien when it was needed. It was a risky strategy but necessary.

  “You’re right, I do apologise.” Damien bowed his head. “Sometimes my mouth runs away with itself. You didn’t deserve to hear such crassness. Not with what’s coming for you.”

  “What do you mean?” Vicky tried to hide the alarm in her voice, but she wasn’t sure she succeeded.

  “The dreams, Mrs Ralph, the thing that comes for you in the dead of night.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Legion warned you the last time you were here, and now I warn you.”

  “What do you think you know?” Anger blossomed then. Vicky had let the patient get under her skin which was the last thing she ever wanted to do.

  “You are in danger, Vicky Ralph, and I don’t think there is anything anyone can do to help you.” Damien flexed his muscles, a terrifying smile creeping onto his face.

  “I think we’re done here,” Bob said sternly.

  “So soon? But we were just getting started.” That smile didn’t leave Damien’s face.

  “No,” Vicky insisted. Bob reached for her, but she shook him off. “What do you know?” This was no coincidence, nor was it a lucky bluff. Could Damien know about her disturbed sleep, about the apparition that came to her?

  “A demon is trying to claim you, Vicky Ralph, and a powerful one. I can see the residue of its presence on you. I’m right about the dreams as well, aren’t I? That’s how they force their way into the unwilling.”

  “I don’t…” Vicky started, but the thought trailed off.

  “You can fight it off for only so long.”

  “Demons aren’t real, Damien,” Vicky insisted. She felt sick, the acid threatening the back of her throat. How could he know? How could Damien know about her dreams?

  “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe it will buy you a few more days.” Vicky stood. Bob was right, this interview was over.

  7.

  Nainital, India

  Arjun Patel had been working at the Aryabhatta Research Institute of Observational Sciences for nearly a year and he was looking forward to the time when he could get back to some semblance of civilisation. The facilities were impressive, but sooner or later you wanted to get back amongst your family.

  Right now, though, all that had been forgotten because Arjun had made a great discovery. As an astronomer he had been drawn here by the impressive observatory built in 2016, the high altitude ideal for the search for celestial bodies. As nothing had been posted on any of the international message boards he frequented, Arjun believed he was the first to discover the new asteroid.

  Being a reserved kind of guy, his display of excitement was limited to a long sigh of satisfaction. When he eventually told people, he would no doubt say luck had a lot to do with his find, modesty a strong aspect of his character. That would not stop him naming the asteroid of course, and he already an idea about what to call it. Obviously, it would be given its standard provisional designation, but this object was big so he reckoned he would have a good chance to put his own spin on it.

  No doubt his achievement would be acclaimed, but there would be less than the normal level of excitement as the astronomical community were still buzzing about the star Rigel going supernova. Nobody had been expecting it, and now the effects shone bright in the sky, each night bringing a brighter and more impressive display. At its peak it was expected to be several hundred times brighter than Venus, although it would be little threat to Earth which was reassuring.

  If he’d known the direction his asteroid was heading, perhaps he wouldn’t have named it Kalki. To him right then, it was a mischievous joke. Kalki was the name of the avatar in which Vishnu was prophesised to return at the end of the Kali-yuga. The name for the asteroid would be accepted, and as the days and weeks progressed, his heart would fill with dread. Although there was no way he could have known the asteroid’s trajectory he would blame himself for what was shortly to unfold.

  Kalki was set on a path directly towards Earth.

  8.

  Watford, UK

  Lilith came back to consciousness, exactly where she expected to be.

  The room was brightly lit, the neon strips hidden by ceiling panels. Pretty much everything around her was white, with the exception of the mirror that dominated one of the walls. She knew this was to allow spectators to watch what was about to be done to her. Lilith hoped they would enjoy the show.

  The chair she sat on was fixed firmly to the floor, her hands shackled to the rear of it, meaning her shoulders were pulled back. Likewise, Lilith’s ankles were held firm by restraints she couldn’t see. This meant she had a limited ability to inspect her own body, but it was clear she had been deprived of all her clothes. That was likely, at least partly, to ensure there could be nothing hidden on her person. It was also a humiliation technique designed to break down her resistance. They had deliberately chosen to have her naked. She wondered if they would be disappointed when they realised she didn’t care.

  To her, this was precisely what an interrogation chamber should look like.

  So far, Lilith was alone in the room, but she knew she was being watched. There were cameras in each corner, no doubt with different abilities in the visual spectrum. In one corner, a single metal chair rested, waiting for someone to come and sit on it. In another corner, what looked like an adjustable gynaecological chair could be seen. Finally, to her left there was a metal trolley loaded with surgical instruments. On a lower shelf there was also a wired box. She was sure she would soon be intimately acquainted with its purpose.

  Lilith sighed. Would they resort to such primitive techniques?

  It didn’t matter. Whatever torments they brought, Lilith knew she deserved every second of the pending interrogation. She had underestimated her enemy, and had been caught as a result. Lilith had failed, and there was no room for failure in this life. Now she would have to pay the penalty.

  Right then she considered removing her ability to answer their questions. It wouldn’t be difficult, biting her own tongue off would do the trick. That might spur them to desperate actions, however, and what she needed to do here was buy time. Despite her predicament, she still had a chance. Deep within her left clavicle, a GPS tracking chip had been implanted years ago. Her Order liked to know where their Inquisitors were at all times, and that chip was still there, with no pain or evidence of injury over this part of her flesh.

  Would her Order come to her rescue or leave her to whatever fate now awaited? She would give them twenty-four hours. Even with the drugs that were bound to be used, she knew she could hold out for at least that long. If there was no sign of liberation by then, Lilith would be forced to take matters into her own hands. She strongly expected she would be meeting her maker sooner than expected.

  Lilith had to admit, she was looking forward to death. Finally, she would be spared
the harshness of this corrupted world.

  The door to the room opened. It had been invisible in the wall, the room most likely airtight. Her prison was designed for containment and easy sterilisation, several drains in the floor to help with cleaning after what could sometimes be messy interrogations. Lilith had seen similar rooms during her training, although she doubted there would be arcane symbols written on the walls in infrared paint.

  A woman walked in, which didn’t surprise Lilith. The arrival was in her mid-thirties, smartly dressed in a blue business suit, which meant the bulk of Lilith’s ordeal wouldn’t be inflicted just yet. The messy stuff would come later, she had no doubt about that. This was not the attire of a blood and guts torturer, thus what was about to ensue would be a discussion, an opportunity to try and settle the matter before the unpleasantness started. The woman would no doubt appeal to Lilith’s craving for self-preservation.

  Grabbing the spare chair, the woman carried it over and plonked it right in front of Lilith. The two never broke eye contact, Lilith’s captor holding an amused look on her face throughout. If she was standing, Lilith reckoned they would both be about equal height, although Lilith was clearly the stronger, more athletic of the two.

  “You certainly keep yourself in shape,” the newcomer said as she sat.

  “It’s a requirement of the job,” Lilith replied.

  “Oh, and what job might that be?”

  “Tax collector.”

  “Funny.” The interrogator leaned forward. “They say you are a hard case. They say you won’t break. I say that’s bullshit.”

  “Are you the warm up act or the main event?” Lilith was genuinely curious.

  “Sweetheart, I’m your worst nightmare.” Lilith smiled at that. Such arrogance always amused her.

  “You won’t come close to that, trust me.” Most people’s ideas of torture were an everyday event to Lilith.

  “You know, I hear that so often,” the stranger answered.

  “Perhaps you should try another line of work, then”. Lilith was quickly getting the measure of this new arrival. This woman lived and breathed sadism. Someone like this would rarely be given permission to operate on UK soil, so her being here was most likely down to luck than planning.

  “What would you suggest?”

  “Perhaps a veterinarian.” On second thoughts, that wasn’t the best option for this woman’s employment. The evil glint in her eyes suggested she might have a thing for hurting defenceless kittens. “So, are you going to introduce yourself then? If I’m going to be tortured, I at least want to know who I’m going to be cursing.”

  “You can call me Veronica. Or Bitch. Either is fine.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. Very few people have enough breath in them to say my name in full after I’ve been at them for a few hours.” And you are so eager to jump right in there, aren’t you? There were certain people who were ideal for this kind of work.

  “Aren’t you breaking, like, a thousand laws right now?” Lilith had no doubt she was still on the British mainland. She also had no doubt the laws of the land wouldn’t apply in this case.

  “Honey, as far as the world is concerned, you don’t exist.”

  “I still have rights.” It was worth a try.

  “You killed four people today. I think you get to waive your rights.” One of the men Lilith had shot in the tunnel’s first altercation had survived, although he would never return to active duty for MI5. Lilith now had an idea how many police officers had died storming her house. She wondered if there was also a modicum of guilt in the minds of the people who had organised her capture. There was no doubt MI5 had not shared the existence of the tunnels with the Metropolitan Police. The Met had been used to flush her out, and people had died as a result. Even if the police had caught her, Lilith wondered how long it would have been before MI5 spirited her away.

  “So, you are willing to break the law?”

  “I’m willing to break a lot of things. I’m hoping you will let me prove that.”

  “You sound impressed with yourself,” Lilith taunted. It was obvious that part of Veronica’s identity was the certainty she could get the job done. Veronica’s eyes glinted with the brutality lurking behind them.

  “I have spent years building a reputation, so you are fortunate I was in the neighbourhood. You should be honoured, actually. I don’t normally work on the UK mainland. My methods are a tad…harsh for normal civilised society.” There were a host of countries and British dependencies that would turn a blind eye to such activities. Normally it wasn’t MI5 who engaged in such interrogation methods, rather her sister organisation MI6. People had been known to disappear down a deep black hole that they never again emerged from.

  “I don’t feel honoured.”

  “You will do. By the time I’m through with you, you will be begging to lick the bottom of my shoes.”

  “Well get on with it then.” Lilith pulled at her restraints. “I haven’t got all day, you know. I have a hair appointment at twelve. It would be a shame to miss it.”

  “Oh, but I have all the time in the world,” Veronica said menacingly. She bent forward and stroked the side of Lilith’s face. Lilith didn’t flinch away.

  ***

  Baal stood in the observation room with the head of MI5 next to him. This was more like it. This was what she wanted to see.

  “Remember, Home Secretary, if this gets too much for you, you can leave at any time.”

  “I’m fine,” Baal said, the voice of her trapped host now screaming in the background. Will you just shut up? Baal ordered. The voice did not comply.

  “I must say I am surprised. You always made noises about being against this sort of interrogation.” Before Baal’s possession, the Home Secretary had been stringent on his stance on human rights.

  “Sometimes drastic situations call for drastic measures. Did she hurt many of your agents?”

  “Four,” Sir David said gravely. “Two dead with two in the hospital. You are going to have a shit-storm to deal with where the Met are concerned.”

  “We couldn’t keep them out of it,” Baal admitted. “The Met commissioner wanted this one almost as badly as you did.” Even now, teams were sifting through the rubble of the destroyed house, the press being told it was a gas leak. That story was unlikely to hold for long, but Baal didn’t care. If they could learn what they needed to know from this Inquisitor, then much of her work on Earth would be accomplished.

  Baal stepped close to the glass, her exhale briefly forming. “She seems like an impressive specimen,” Baal said casually. To have an Inquisitor captured! How many demons had this one faced? How many of Baal’s brothers and sisters had been sent screaming back to the Pit? In front of Baal was a table with everything they had found in Lilith’s possession.

  “Veronica will get her talking,” Sir David said confidently. “They all talk eventually.”

  “Will there be much blood?” Baal asked. She liked the sight of blood, it was so arousing.

  “Most probably, but not in this early stage. We always give them a chance to come clean before the fun begins.”

  “Well let’s hope our captive sees sense.” That wasn’t what Baal wanted to say but she knew she had to play a role. What she wanted was to get in there personally and rip the Inquisitor’s eyes from their sockets.

  “Whoever this woman is, she is well trained. She had money behind her.”

  I know who’s behind her, thought Baal, but better for that to be revealed from the Inquisitor’s own lips. If they could get a confession, then they could expose the secret Order to the world which would weaken Satan’s enemies in the coming battle.

  Then there was the other reason Baal was here. She gently patted the breast pocket of her suit, the presence of the blood vial reassuring to her. That vial contained the blood of an Inquisitor, which had been extracted from Lilith whilst she had still been unconscious. The request for this had risen a few eyebrows, but nobody had den
ied the Home Secretary what he had asked for. It was hoped that, with suitable tests, the gathered blood might reveal something about the genetic traits of an Inquisitor. When she left here, Baal would have the vial sent by refrigerated packaging to the man who might have use for it.

  ***

  “Let me tell you how this is going to go,” Veronica said. She was standing now for dramatic effect. “I will ask you a series of questions and you will answer them.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “I will get to that. Please don’t interrupt my flow.”

  “Sorry,” Lilith said, although she wasn’t.

  “They say torture doesn’t work,” Veronica said, “but such statements are made by people with no understanding of what I can do.”

  “I’m guessing you are quite accomplished in this.”

  “Oh yes,” Veronica said proudly. “I have never once failed to get the required information out of a subject.”

  “Well, there’s always a first time.”

  “Trust me, not going to happen.” Veronica stepped forward and put her hand on Lilith’s short hair. The gentle strokes were as unexpected as they were soothing and were alien to what should be happening here. “If you fail to answer my questions, or tell me a lie, you will earn a penalty. Those penalties will increase in severity, and will be performed even if you decide it is time to tell me the truth. They will have a fixed duration, and must be completed. Do you understand?”

  “Perfectly. I understand that you enjoy your job a bit too much.”

  “Girlfriend, I adore my job.” To punctuate this, Veronica smacked her victim on the back of her head.

  “You should get out more,” Lilith mocked. Keep her talking. Buy time.

  “As the penalties increase, the chances of you making it out of here intact decrease. I can inflict immense amounts of pain without causing you permanent damage, but I tend to find people get very cooperative when I start to remove various bits.”

  “What, and ruin your nice suit?”

  “If I have to change out of this, you are in serious trouble.” Veronica sat down again.