The Second Seal

by Sean Deville

Baal sat in the car that had driven her from Downing Street. The knowledge in her head told her there would be resistance about her going into the farmhouse because it was a crime scene. She would insist though, and maybe somebody would relent. She was so tired of the restrictions she had to act under.

  She saw Cooke exit the building, and opened the car door for him.

  “Get in, Cooke,” she shouted. It took several heart beats for him to spot which car the voice had come from, and his reluctance was obvious. He climbed in next to her, closing the door. Cooke noticed the car’s driver was absent.

  “Home Secretary. There really is no need for you to be here. We have it all in hand.”

  “What is this I hear about Satanic rituals?”

  “We found evidence of such in the house, Sir.”

  “What evidence? I need to see this. We can’t have such madness on our streets.”

  “I’m sure you are right, Sir, but the forensic team are still at work. We might be able to let you in when they are all done, but it will be a couple of hours yet.” That had clearly always been his technique for dealing with unreasonable demands from superiors. Don’t outright deny them, give them a reason why their ideas were so stupid without saying as much and then offer a compromise. It usually worked. But not with Baal.

  “And the evidence?” The ancient words and rituals that were supposed to be used to draw demons in had mostly been stricken from Europe and the Middle East during the Crusades. Any ancient grimoires that purported to teach such evocations had long ago been destroyed save for a few rare copies that were hidden away. Now, in modern times, many of those that remained were in private collections and museums, or locked away in the Vatican vaults.

  There was a good reason why such incantations were strictly forbidden in Islam and Christianity due to the obvious dangers threatened by the demonic form. There were other non-Abrahamic religions and practices that warned of the dangers posed by calling forth creatures from the hot place, and most of them had undergone centuries of purges to remove the threat of books and scrolls written by people who were misguided or seduced with false promises.

  Still the knowledge to create a short cut to Hell survived.

  Now the internet was here, and that changed everything. Before print, books took months to hand reproduce. When the printing press arrived, thousands of copies could be created, but these were physical things that could be discovered and destroyed. But the internet was digital. One book could be scanned and posted to secret message boards where untold copies could spread across computers. Most of those copies gave false and useless information, but some were genuine.

  The knowledge was there in the darkest reaches of the deep web. All it took was determination and persistence and a will to do something monumentally foolish.

  “Pentagram on the floor. Altar in the middle of the room, candles and red walls. It’s like something out of Hammer House of Horror down there.” Baal had to search her host’s mind for the reference.

  “I still need to see it.” There was a knock on the car window, and Cooke lowered it to find Johnson there with her phone. Cooke took the device and passed it over.

  “We took the courtesy of making you a video.” Baal hesitated, the desire to demand compliance building in her. Instead she took the proffered phone and played the recording. The camera panned over the elaborate set up, the bodies left uncovered for the photographers. Then the video zoomed in on the mutilated body, numerous wounds visible. How my kin must have suffered, Baal thought. She didn’t care what had happened, but it was proof that indeed there was another Inquisitor out there.

  She had no idea what the demons were planning. Perhaps they had been sent by another Great King?

  “Time of death was recent, I take it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me, the cases you were investigating…”

  “It’s definitely similar.”

  “When I met you at Hendon, you said you suspected professionals. I think you used the word assassin.”

  “Home Secretary, that was your choice of word. I do, however, think we might be dealing with a team of highly trained individuals.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” said Baal. If they could get the one in captivity talking, then Baal might be able to go back home.

  29.

  London, UK

  Damien sat cross legged on his mattress, the bed abandoned. It was too small for him, neither wide enough nor long enough, so he had pulled the mattress onto the floor. Several of the guards had noticed it on their regular inspection, but none of them had commented. He didn’t think any of them relished being in the cell with him, not with the reputation he had so far developed.

  He hadn’t seen much of the prison inmates. He was in solitary confinement, the four walls pressing in on him. Damien knew he had to do his best to ignore the presence of his half-brothers incarcerated within these walls, that or else Legion would be drawn out to rage and smash. As it was, he was happy to stay here for the time being, safe in the knowledge this incarceration was only temporary.

  The walls of the prison might be able to hold Legion unleashed, but the same couldn’t be said once he was past the prison gates. And this would come for he still had court appearances that the law insisted on.

  He felt troubled though. Not for himself because he knew he had a destiny he had helped shape. Soon, his father would come to unleash the evil of the Fallen upon the world and Damien believed he had done enough to prove his worth. And then the fun would really begin.

  What exactly would his father ask of him though? There was still an uncertainty there as to what Damien’s ultimate purpose truly was.

  He had surprised himself by feeling concern for his psychologist Vicky Ralph. Normally he cared little for the affairs of the monkeys that had learnt to walk upright, but this one had touched something inside him. There was nothing romantic in these feelings. Damien was completely asexual and had little interest in the flesh dangling between his legs. Damien supposed he had formed a fondness to Vicky as a person, something that rarely happened. Strange how such randomness happened. As for the guards, he would happily let Legion rip them limb from limb. But Vicky had nothing to fear from him.

  He knew Legion would never harm her.

  Damien had spent a lot of his life trying to understand himself. At first it had been to try and discover what was wrong with him, to fathom why his parents had so relentlessly punished him. Then, as Legion’s influence grew, his thoughts veered more towards how truly horrific he could allow himself to be. Although the mind called Damien did not commit the brutal acts, he willingly drew the victims into his web, trapping them, drugging and subduing them. He was as complicit in the murders and the rampaging madness that Legion represented, a fractured part of him containing all his insanity.

  When you realise you aren’t normal and that you have no intention of being so, it gives you power. When you walk through the streets and see the demons that skulk in the shadows and have no fear of them, it gives you focus. And when you know you are destined for true greatness and will help bring in the end of the world, it gives you purpose.

  “What happens to me when Father comes?” Legion suddenly asked. Normally the split personality kept itself quiet, in the background, only emerging when it was needed or when danger presented. It was like a loyal dog who knew how to keep quiet and out of the way. But now here Legion was.

  “I don’t know,” Damien said honestly. “I don’t even know what will happen to me.” Would there be anything left of them when their father finally rose from the Pit? Lucifer had been prodigious in developing his offspring, and Damien knew that, despite the numbers Legion had killed, there were copious numbers of those children still out there. Damien had hoped to rid the land of all his competition so that Lucifer would have no choice but to accept a son who was so desperate to be wanted. Surely, he would be the one chosen.

  “Do we have to accept him when he comes?”

  “Why
wouldn’t we?”

  “What if we no longer exist when Father claims us?”

  “Would that be so bad?”

  “I want to exist. I would miss the slaughter too much.”

  “He is our father. We are his.” Did Damien owe anything to Lucifer though. As absent fathers went, Lucifer was right up there.

  “And what if he doesn’t choose us? What then?”

  “That’s not going to happen.” The very idea was abhorrent to Damien. “Haven’t we proven our worth?”

  “What if Father hates us for killing his own?” It had been Damien who had decided ridding the field was the best way to prove himself. He wanted, above all else, to see pride in his father’s eyes. Just once he wanted to feel accepted.

  “You make no sense,” Damien insisted defensively. “If we weren’t meant to kill, why were you born from my pain? Why can only I sense the seeds he has planted?”

  “I don’t have those answers. I just think you will be disappointed.”

  “You have always been too protective of me.” Despite their disjointed and fragmented nature, Damien knew he owed everything to Legion. Without his alternate personality to take the brunt of his parent’s punishments, Damien strongly suspected he wouldn’t have survived. Whereas Legion had been able to take the beatings silently, Damien would have wept, and weeping would have spurred the belts and the burnings to greater torment.

  “It is how I repay you for my life.”

  So, they both owed each other a debt. What would that debt mean when the gates of Hell were finally flung wide? They would both have to wait for an answer to that question.

  30.

  Inquisitor training camp 12 years ago

  “What does it mean to be possessed?” the Librarian asked. The students looked back at him knowing there was no need to shout out the answers because the Librarian would call on them in turn. This prevented the same students answering all the questions as so often occurred in a class. Despite this, the Librarian always had his favourites, because even with the rigorous and regimented training, every child’s mind was different.

  There were only nine students left in Lilith’s class. She could only guess at what fate had befallen all those who had failed the training. Considering the numbers of children rescued and those sired by the mothers who acted as broodmares for the secret Catholic sect, this was not an impressive number.

  Once, intricate bedding ceremonies had been performed to make those daughters of Christ pregnant, the males chosen from existing Inquisitor ranks. Science had inevitably intervened. Conception was now done by artificial stimulation, the women kept protected and secluded only to join the Order as nuns when their fertile time was over. With the exception of those who were brought in from outside, the Inquisitor bloodlines were now purer than ever.

  Lilith found that the Librarian was pointing his cane at her.

  “Doesn’t that depend on the person’s religion?” Lilith asked.

  “Expand on that please.”

  “Well, in Judaism, they understand demons as messengers from God. From what you have taught us there doesn’t seem to be much of a belief in possession in that religion.”

  “And why do you think that is?” The Librarian didn’t give his students exams. Examination was there to prove the students did the work and he had no fear of slackers in this class.

  “Bloodlines. Most of those who followed Judaism came from select bloodlines, all carrying the genetic traits that prevented possession. Is that why we have no Inquisitors in Israel?”

  “Yes, it is,” smiled the Librarian. “The Ashkenazi and Sephardic bloodlines in particular are especially resistant to possession.” The Librarian pointed at Lucien. “Lucien, what does it mean to be possessed when it comes to Islam?”

  “Various types of creatures, such as jinn and shayatin, are described in Islamic culture when we are discussing demonic possession. Though not directly attested in the Quran, the notion of demons possessing humans is widespread among Muslims and also accepted by many Islamic scholars. Jinn themselves aren’t sometimes considered to be overly evil, but the shayatin definitely are and seem to be more in tune with the idea of evil leading people astray. The Hadiths suggest that the demons take root and whisper from within the human body. I think it’s another way of describing exactly the same thing that we believe.”

  “Yes, I agree. One wonders if there is anything like our Order amongst the various Islamic religions.” Lilith saw the twinkle in the Librarian’s eye, suggesting that there were indeed such Islamic warriors.

  The Librarian pointed to the next student, a boy called Alastor.

  “From our perspective, possession occurs on different levels. It can be random, a breach in the defensive shield between Earth and Hell letting random spirits through. They will worm their way into anything they can find. In the past that was usually those who were mentally damaged or people filled with anger. As there are those who are resistant to demonic possession, there are also those whose bodies scream out for it.”

  “Yes, these are the bulk of the demons you will be called on to deal with. That it invariably requires the death of the possessed individual is a small price to pay. Do you all agree?”

  “Yes Librarian, and we all pay that price gladly,” they said in unison.

  “Anything else, Alastor?”

  “Some demons are evoked, brought to our world by words and rituals. Those summoning the damned never understand the price they will ultimately pay. Just to consider such an act can threaten one’s immortal soul.” There was a murmur of agreement from amongst the students.

  “And yet we teach you these words and rituals, do we not?”

  “That is so we can know our enemy,” Alastor insisted.

  “You will encounter these fools in your time fighting the menace. When you find those who call forth the evil from the fiery Pit, what do you do with them?”

  “Send them before our Maker,” Alastor answered.

  “Very good. And what about Buddhism?” The Librarian pointed to another student.

  “Demons have always been central to many eastern religions,” the student replied. “Like Christianity, they have a classification system for demons. But the main difference is that Buddhists don’t believe in a creator, and their concept of demons is that they are less powerful than those that we battle. Often these demons are described as being mischievous in nature, but that might be more to do with the less individualistic nature of eastern societies.”

  “Are you a sociology student now?” the Librarian teased. Some of the students allowed a smile to develop in response.

  “I suppose I will be in a way, should I succeed in my training,” the student answered gravely. “I will be helping keep the balance of society.”

  “Lilith, what else do you know?” The class turned to watch her.

  “Demonic possession varies based on the strength of the demon. The lesser ones, those that find their way here through chance, will take whatever they can get. If you are genetically predisposed to possession, any demon can claim you.” And conversely, those who are genetically resistant can never be claimed she didn’t add. “So, demons don’t always need the host to give their permission before possession can occur. That is what you taught us, Librarian.”

  “Can demons target specific individuals?”

  “Yes. Demons, especially the more powerful ones can seize control of those who aren’t genetically vulnerable, but they still need the host to give consent.”

  “And what happens to a human body that is claimed by a King or a Prince of Hell?” The Librarian had taught them all this months ago.

  “Often the host body cannot withstand the trauma of such power being within them. It starts to be corrupted.”

  “Can an Inquisitor invite a demon into his or her heart?”

  “No Librarian. We are immune.”

  “And yet there are so many who aren’t, or who are weak of mind and spirit. The purpose of this little exercise is t
o show you that cultures vary across the planet with regards to their exposure and their beliefs in the Satanic spawn. Then there are the atheists that believe in nothing, often explaining away possession as mental illness. This doesn’t leave them any less vulnerable to the effects and the dangers the demons pose. Science can’t help with that. In fact, as we will learn in later lessons, science might be our ultimate undoing. Only those like yourselves are blessed by God in that you are immune to possession.”

  Was this a blessing though? The Inquisitor lived a life of duty and suffering, filled with the knowledge that all human life was vulnerable to the forces of evil. In those rare moments where her thoughts dwelled on the life she could have had, Lilith sometimes found herself thinking this was, in fact, a curse.

  31.

  Scotland, UK, 4 years ago

  There are some who believe in conspiracies. These can vary from believing the CIA assassinated JFK and that Building 7 was brought down by controlled demolition, and can often vary to the extremes of believability. From chemtrails to aliens, from the earth being flat to society being run by a race of pan-dimensional, blood-drinking, shape-shifting space lizards, people are known to believe in all sorts of things.

  There are so many conspiracies, it is sometimes difficult to find the truth amongst the bullshit. And there is truth there, because governments and powerful organisations have always engaged in nefarious activities that would shock the general populace. There are also conspiracies that have generally escaped the keenest of investigative minds.

  An example of such would be the greatest conspiracy of all, the plan to bring the human race to its knees.

  One of the tropes of the conspiracy minded is the reality that the rich, the powerful, the connected and those deemed to have potential, meet every year at secure and secluded spots across the world. Be this the Bilderberg meeting, or the gathering at Bohemian grove, these events draw the eye of those who don’t trust what the mainstream press tells them. Then there are the secret societies such as the Freemasons and the Order of the Skull and Bones, all good ammunition for stories to be concocted.