The Lunatic Messiah

by Simon Cutting

  There is a different smell now. I don't like smells, they imply particles in the air. Minute particles of substances, not of my choosing, entering my body and infecting me. The Furies can dance among the particles, picking the gaps between their vile meandering because they have no tangible existence. They live and die on the whims of thought, and can be changed as such, like the Mule. The Vampire is not the same as the Instrument, however. She cannot be so controlled. She was unleashed. She was not born, unless her mother is me. She doesn't even know what she is, but unlike the rest of these zombies, bumping their lives against the thin membrane of death, she can learn. She is capable of becoming so much more. That is why she is of use to me. That is why she needs to eat so much of the lives of others simply to exist. That is why she scares me.

  I have seen the Mule stand beside Him. I have seen the way that He trails the Mule's residuals, without knowing why. There is only one thing for it. I need to set the Furies loose. The world needs a saviour from this cycle of destruction, and only I can become what is needed, with the Vampire on my right and the Instrument on my left. A trinity. One being in three bodies.

  I'm back in that waiting room. I know it the instant I look up from my chair in the corner. I don't know how long I've been sleeping, but I know before they enter who's about to walk through that door. Sure enough, Gavrilo flings the door wide open, wielding his phallic revolver in front of him and pointing it at Diana, who looks up with only mild surprise. Gavrilo spins the chamber and smiles.

  'One in six, Diana!' he declares with gusto, as if it's the first time he's ever said it.

  The gun clicks as Lucy enters the room after him. She smiles at me, so sweetly for a second I think she might actually be a little girl instead of the personification of hatred and fear. Funny how the mind forgets such fundamentals. Gavrilo, as usual, ignores me.

  'Go on through, he's waiting for you. Lucy, would you like a chocolate?'

  Lucy glances back at me as if she's sharing some kind of private joke, and then nods at the receptionist. Diana hands her a chocolate, which Lucy takes and gnaws at without any pleasure. Diana pats her on the head gently, and Lucy leaps back, almost hissing with rage. Diana withdraws her hand as if she's touched a hot stove.

  'What are you doing?' screams Lucy with a voice that sounds like it comes from somewhere other than her.

  Diana is completely taken aback by the reaction and throws her arms up in the air to demonstrate that she's no threat.

  'Nothing. I was just...'

  'You were just? You never touch me. Nobody touches me, you two dimensional cut-out of a person. You're not my mother.'

  'Lucy, I'm sorry I was...'

  'I will see you dead one day, and I will smile at the sight,' Lucy replies and follows her father into the chamber that I so dread.

  Diana sits with her mouth open in shock and she looks so like that two dimensional cut-out, so expendable, that I know that Lucy will one day make good on her threat.

  Here He is. I knew he would come. It's a sad fact that he must be here to witness my command, but if he were not, then none of it would be possible. My chamber exists within Him and without Him there would be nothing. The Furies stand before me, looking bored. If only they knew.

  'So what is it now? I told you on the phone, we have the last one.'

  'I don't like the telephone. It's unreliable. Phantoms in the air. I need to see you,' I croak.

  The Instrument shrugs. He is humouring me.

  'Okay, well here I am. We have the last one.'

  'Are you sure?'

  'The guy wasn't exactly the resilient type. I'm sure.'

  'You give me your word? Trust is not something that comes easily.'

  The Vampire lunges forward at the glass, her face full of rage and amusement. Hatred and hilarity. I feel myself closing in underneath her gaze, and although there is no way she can see me in the darkness, I know she has sensed my reaction. She is tuned in to the suffering of others. It is how she navigates the world.

  'He's sure. Why are we here?'

  I take some time to collect myself.

  'I have another job for you. One that I think you'll find satisfying.'

  I don't like the sound of his voice. His tone is hard to discern because his voice is more like a whisper of memory than an audible sound, but I have a sinking feeling in my stomach. Gavrilo looks bored, but Lucy is excited. She walks over to me and takes my hand again. I want to resist but I can't find the will as she leads me closer to the glass. I can sense him on the other side. That grey mass, barely a man, sickly, but somehow virulent and dangerous at the same time. I can feel a shudder rise up my spine at the proximity to him and the soft cold touch of Lucy's hand. Gavrilo looks on incredulously.

  'Do you mind if He hears you?' Lucy says.

  'Lucy, what the hell are you talking about?' Gavrilo says, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge my existence.

  She doesn't answer him. Perhaps that is what the note means. Joe Finch does not exist. In this world, whatever it is, perhaps I really don't exist.

  'He can hear it. I want you to kill the Mule.'

  Gavrilo stiffens up at the word 'kill'.

  'The Mule?'

  'Meakes. I need you to kill him.'

  'Evan Meakes? What did he do to piss you off?'

  Lucy's grip on my hand is tightening. I can feel her nails digging into my flesh. It is a white hot pain, but I barely notice it.

  'It is not a matter of anger or vengeance. It is simply a necessity,' breathes the voice beyond the glass.

  Gavrilo shrugs.

  'I have no problem with it. If you want to clean up some loose ends that's fine by me, but in that case I want more money.'

  'Money is merely the blood of innocents and I have plenty of it. You will be compensated.'

  The Instrument is a cog in the machine. He wants only money to sustain himself. But the Vampire has other motives. She doesn't just want to kill him, she wants to consume him. If it were possible, I would feel some remorse at what I am about to unleash, but these are not lives, they are merely characters, and they have played their part.

  'You can't just kill them! They haven't done anything!'

  It is the first time He has spoken to me. I can feel his eyes trying to make out my form through the glass. His voice sounds tinny through the intercom. It is not what I expected Him to sound like. What is the voice of God? A booming cry that cuts through all things and demands observance to its will? Or perhaps the voice of God is exactly the voice I just heard. A quiet, scared, whine from somebody who has no more sense of purpose than anything else. I decide it is time to address Him.

  'You may be a God, but you are not yet omniscient. They haven't done anything yet. Let's keep it that way.'

  He looks confused. Perhaps surprised, as if he has heard those words before. I don't know what to make of his expression. Maybe it is impossible to know the mind of God. From the look of the frail old man in front of me, he doesn't even know his own mind. To Him, his mind is a thing to fear and mistrust.

  Did he just refer to me as a God? I don't feel like a God. I feel terrified. I tear myself free of Lucy's grasp, but I can feel that she allows me to go. If she wanted me to stay by her side, staring into that abyss where Mr Grey lives, then there would be nothing I could do about it. Gavrilo is watching his daughter with a comical confusion on his dense features. A fish with a bicycle.

  'Okay, so when do we want this thing done?'

  'The sooner the better,' comes the reply.

  'Well I'll just have to check my schedule. I've got bridge with Lady Fontleberry at eight, and I simply have to drink a litre of scotch and fuck something by ten, but tomorrow, I'm wide open.'

  'Wider than you think. Be careful, Instrument, He is watching you.'

  'Yeah, yeah. I'm starting to think that you and Lucy are both out of your minds, but with the money you pay me, I'm prepared to put up with it. Just remember what you said.'

  There is a long silence. I can fee
l tension building in the room, and this time, even Gavrilo seems to notice it. Despite all his bravado and inherent stupidity, he is not completely ignorant of what lies behind that glass. When Grey speaks again, his voice is louder than I have ever heard it before. It is audible. It echoes slightly on the bare walls of the chamber, and it makes Gavrilo flinch.

  'Make him dead. Take the Vampire.'

  Lucy puts a hand up to the glass.

  'I'll grind his bones to make my bread,' she sings happily.

  'Do so,' replies Mr Grey.

  'Sure, sure. We'll cut him down and count the rings. Let's go, Lucy,' Gavrilo says.

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