Unlocked

by Kevin Solomon Missal

  Directly below the fan was a demon. Anyone would notice a demon off the bat. Unless it was wearing a human’s skin. This demon, however, wore none. It was as if someone had purposely stripped it off of his thin, slimy body.

  Demons are of various kinds. There are big and small demons, three-legged demons, three-armed demons, or two-headed demons. The only similarity between all of them was the sparkling tattoos or runes or marks that span the whole of their skin and whirled from top to bottom. Their skin is rubbery when they are in human form. It is said that when Lucifer was cast into Hell for disobeying the Will of God, he made demons and gave them these runes for protection and power as the fresh demons were nothing but the weakest of creatures.

  “This is Virgil, commander of Abaddon’s army,” Capernaum explained. “Luckily, my assistant, Harvard, caught him in Brooklyn. After the due torture we inflicted on him, he gave us some information.”

  “What kind of information?”

  “You might know about Matrix Corporation and of Longhorn Darcy?” Balthazar clapped hands with enthusiasm. “The youngest billionaire!”

  “He’s not what he seems to be.” Capernaum walked around the roused demon as he sat stiff and furious. “He is Lucifer.”

  Death was caught off guard. They were stunned by the news. None of them had expected for such a thing to come about.

  Caspar had heard about Longhorn Darcy. While switching channels, he’d seen him many times, giving interviews or immersing himself in public discussions in the news and meeting renowned people. Lately, his renown had grown than even before, as if some kind of energy had taken refuge within him. Things now made sense now to Caspar.

  “It happened, perhaps, like this. Lucifer rose. He took a body, as the devil can’t wear human skin and helped to make Longhorn Darcy, a graduate from Yale, become one of the most powerful person’s on Earth.”

  “So what about the Apocalypse?” Balthazar asked, confused. “Well, there is no such thing in his mind, for now,” the demon said.

  “That’s absurd!” Caspar exclaimed and he came forward, looking into the demon’s face. “He’s the devil. If he doesn’t want the Apocalypse, why was he so restless to break out of Purgatory?” he asked. “Why? Why isn’t he trying to bring Apocalypse?”

  “He thinks Earth is a pathetic place with parasites living on it. When he came to Earth, his thoughts changed. He saw this Earth in a new way. He was fascinated by it. Fascinated by its rules and order and its progress. He didn’t want to destroy all of it. Instead, he took the body of a billionaire and became powerful without hurting anyone.”

  “No, no, no!” Caspar’s eyes pierced the demon as adrenaline pumped into its veins. “There’s something you are hiding. Lucifer will never do that. You are hiding something. TELL US! TELL ME!”

  Caspar’s voice was gravelly and threatening. He yelled loudly, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. Virgil was taken aback. His runes started to shine as dread coursed through him.

  “I – I . . .”

  “Yes. Yes, you are hiding something. I can see it in your eyes.” “I can’t risk my life. The Creator will destroy me,”

  “Then you don’t know me enough. I will skin you alive. That’s worse than death,” he threatened.

  “I . . .” he sighed.

  Capernaum, Death, Harvard, and Balthazar exchanged glances. Virgil looked about and found no support in them. He lowered his head in utter despair.

  “He – he’s...trying to bring a – a...Prophet in,” he said with hesitation. “And?”

  “Nothing more. He told Lord Leviathan to do so. Somehow, he wants to use the Prophet for his own gain.”

  “Thank you, Virgil.” Caspar straightened and looked around. “That will be all. Balthazar, I think we have some work to do.”

  “On the way, boss.”

  Caspar eyed Capernaum and Death. “I am going to find the Prophet while you play charades. Ciao.” He winked and exited the chamber without a backward glance

  in their direction.

  Ob

  eron’s Offer

  Prophets...Like Isaiah and Job are old men chosen from the Heavens to receive visions of the future. They are one of the most important people in the world because it gives people hope of a better future and keeps the dominion of Heaven strong.

  Prophets have been born on Earth since the beginning of mankind. They’ve brought forth knowledge of events that have changed the face of the world, filling men with the desire to go on living and keeping religion strong. They know more than they’re supposed to know and can potentially know everything, if they stretch their minds to their limits.

  Caspar hadn’t heard about the Prophet until today. The demon’s confession had taken him by surprise. It was strange, eccentric, yet it was something that filled him with energy. Still, how was he going to find the Prophet? It was said, that in every century, one is born. Who was the chosen of Heaven in this century? It could be anyone. Perhaps even a talking animal or some creature from depths of Earth. Whatever, or who, it was made him excited.

  He arrived at his house to find Lazarus and other maids keeping things in order. Balthazar made himself invisible so as not to freak them out. They made their way to Caspar’s study where Ivy was supposedly sleeping.

  Lazarus encountered him along the way and drew his attention. “Master Socrates?”’

  “Yes?” Caspar was surprised by his sudden appearance. “What is it, Lazarus?” “There was a guest here for Ms. Demetrius.”

  “What kind of guest?”

  “A girl, Master Socrates.”

  “I see,” he quietly responded and frowned. “Thank you.”

  Lazarus departed and Caspar hummed under his breath. He wasn’t a socialite, but now that fact was changing fast. His anti-social life of a maverick was turned upside-down. Walking gruffly, he made his way to the door. He pushed it open and found a brunette girl wearing tight jeans and a striped shirt with its cuffs folded up to her elbows inside the room. Her brown eyes were focused upon him and a sudden burst of energy passed between them.

  For some inexplicable reason, Caspar’s heart thumped erratically within his chest. Why? he wondered. Why was his heart racing?

  “This is Joanne, Caspar,” Ivy introduced as she appeared. “Joanne, this is Caspar Socrates.”

  “I have heard about you,” she said, a sly smile sweeping across her face. “You are quite famous. My father works for the government. They’re thinking of hiring you as a supernatural investigator.”

  “Are you serious? Is she serious?” he asked as he turned to Ivy while shaking hands with Joanne.

  “I know her father and he does work for the government.”

  “Fascinating.” Caspar smiled. “That calls for a feast, but not right now. We have work to do.” The impulsive feeling he’d felt toward Joanne was starting to fade as he walked into the room. “The Prophet...The Prophet...Where could a prophet be? How shall I find him? Ah!” He clapped his hands with excitement. “Goblins? No!”

  “Fairies, I suppose?” Ivy suggested.

  “Fairies? Why would you say...? Oh. Oh, I see. Fairies are the kind of entities who would put their nose where they are not supposed to? Of course!” He searched through the shelves and started tossing books aside.

  “Is he a psychopath?” Joanne whispered. “Correction: a sociopath,” Caspar abruptly replied. “What are you trying to do?” Ivy asked.

  “Trying to find the fairy,”

  Caspar knew that Death had his way in and around the universe. Death reaped everyone’s soul, be it human or fairy. Thus, he’d know about Oberon.

  Oberon was the king of fairies. He controlled the realm and had created the race itself. In actuality, he was an angel who’d abandoned his duties and made his own distinct race. He was never seen by anyone after that, for he lived deep within the pastures of the fairy realm known as Antasia. Many have sought him, but have never been able to find him as of yet.

  Fairies weren’t exactly the cut
e and beautiful kind like Tinker Bell who sacrificed themselves for others. No, not at all. Caspar used to think they were just like what they were depicted to be in books and cartoons, until he’d hunted some of them.

  They were manipulative creatures that like to play with mortal minds. They seduce, persuade, and influence just for the fun of it. They don’t sprinkle dust on humans and make their wishes come true. Nor do they fulfill other fairy venues such as have been seen in movies. When angry, they’re capable of clawing people to death. Calculative and manipulative, they are Caspar’s number one enemy.

  Yet, he needed their help. He knew fairies were the only creatures that kept their eyes over everyone and every thing. They would already know that Lucifer has

  risen, but they would be the least worried about it, as they would not be affected by the outcome of his actions. Lucifer would never meddle in a fairy’s business if he could avoid it. Fairies get their information from various sources here. Their sources are always reliable. They could be helpful in obtaining information, but you had to be on their good side in order to achieve such bounty.

  “Are you sure about this?” Death asked as he materialized within the room. Caspar had summoned him to talk about his plan. He needed Oberon to be of

  help to them.

  “Have you seen him with your own eyes?”

  “Of course I have. I am Death.” He scowled and pursed his lips as he lost himself in thought. “Other fairies think of him as an unknown godfather. As for me, he is a malicious manipulative bastard.”

  ***

  It didn’t take much time for Death to vanish in mid-air and grab hold of the Lord of the Fairies. Death was powerful and he was old. He pulled an old, crumpled-looking man out of the portal effortlessly. He wiped his hands as if he’d been contaminated in touching him.

  Oberon wasn’t what Caspar had imagined him to be. He’d expected him to be a big, bushy bearded man with long hair and lavish clothes. Yet in front of him stood a man that was trying to stand up on his feet with the help of a cane with a jaguar-shaped knob.

  His head was bald and his eyes protruded slightly out of their sockets. His lips were feverish and quivering. His long ears resembled that of leprechauns. He wore a

  green shirt with a brown jacket on top and loose, smoky pants. The King of Fairies wearing human clothes.

  “Many have wondered whether you’ve been within the fairy realms when, in fact, you’ve been on Earth having fun,” Death chided.

  “I am an old man, Death. Fun is a part of life at this time.” He turned a wide, manic smile upon Death. He was nothing like the fairies he’d created. A fairy was supposed to be kind and sweet with a honey-like voice. Here, however, things were different.

  “I need your help,” Caspar said.

  “Three wishes. That is all,” Oberon reiterated as he dusted off his jacket. “I don’t need your stupid wishes.” Caspar exchanged a long glance with

  Death. “I need your help in getting information.”

  Oberon’s frown turned into a big smile. While leaning on his cane, he walked around Caspar, his watery and milky eyes trained upon him. “Oh? I see information. Learned from someone that fairies always get a bit of a piece of the big pie, did you?” His voice was so smooth and his raspy breath was difficult to be heard. “What kind of information you want?”

  “The location of the prophet.”

  Oberon’s raised his brows. “The Prophet. Interesting. Why the prophet?” “That’s none of your business.”

  “It is of great importance to the one who is going to tell you the information you so desire.”

  “All right.” Caspar exchanged another look with Death. “I need the Prophet because I need to see how I will die.” He regretted his words as soon as he’d said them.

  Oberon narrowed his eyes. He sniffed air and said, “You smell this?” No one answered. “This is the smell of a lie.” He stared at Caspar’s denim pants and sniffed the air once more. “I don’t see your pants catching on fire, though.”

  Caspar didn’t move. Clearly, Oberon could find out who was a liar and who was not. With his fish-like eyes, he kept staring at Caspar and then at Death.

  “Seriously guys, when you want to be good liar, don’t go with the obvious lies.” He paused. “What is it, then?’”

  “Lucifer has risen from his cage in Purgatory. He is after a Prophet. Why he needs a Prophet, I have no idea, but there must be some reason, so we need to find the Prophet before he does.”

  “Ah, this is just splendid! Conflicts between good and evil. I have seen this many times.”

  “So? Oberon, I think you should tell us. You remember Antarctica, don’t you?” Death warned, his voice menacing. “Three decades. Now it will be five.” “All right. Fair enough. Though, I need one favor in return for this sort of

  information.”

  “I’ll kick your ass, fairy godfather!” Death grabbed Oberon by the collar. “No, wait, Death.” Caspar brought his hand forward. “You might freeze him

  in Antarctica for fifty years, yet he would not tell us about the Prophet.” He looked at the King of Fairies. “What do you want in return?”

  Oberon smiled. “Now we are becoming reasonable, aren’t we?” He pulled himself to his feet. “I need a favor. It’s a good favor. It’s not that much of a hard work, per se. I am an egoistical fairy, you see, but I hate when someone hurts my ego. Lucifer Morningstar did just that by chaining me within his clutches for further requirements. I am like a dog tied to a leash. I don’t like being tied to a leash. It’s

  pathetic. I am the King – the God of Fairies. My kind worships me. But I am tied like a dog.” He clenched his teeth together. “He has leashed a god and that is absurd.”

  “I don’t see any chains.”

  “You can’t see it, because you are not looking for it.”

  With those very words, Caspar saw the chain magically appear. A metallic collar was wrapped around Oberon’s neck with a long chain clipped to it. “You see, I am a dog.”

  “Indeed. And not a cute one, mind you,” Caspar said. “Why does he need you? What further requirements must you fulfill?”

  “I am the god of fairies. I can be very useful sometimes, if you just know the right way to bind me. Unfortunately, Lucifer knows.” He paused. “Lucifer holds a...What do you call it in mortal language? An apple. A black, ashy apple. I need you to smash that apple until it breaks into pieces. When it does, I’ll be free.”

  “Okay, I can do that. Just put an oath on my arm,”

  “No, no, no. Now, this is the tricky part. I don’t trust you. Humans have always meddled in fairy affairs. That’s why we like to slice them and have them as a treat. I need you to break that apple first and then come back to me in return for the bit of information you so desire.’

  “I am not going to do that. You have to trust me.” “Well, that’s what I am bad at.”

  “I’ll get killed.”

  “Probability of living and dying is in every scenario,” Oberon laughed. “This is my offer. You need my help. Therefore, you need to help me. Go to the Matrix Corporation and find the apple. Break it and come back to me. It’s as simple as that!”

  Caspar had always been a daring boy. From the beginning of his teenage years, he had been daring. But now, entering a suicidal place was much too daring. He knew he had no choice. He had to help Oberon. He could take help from another fairy, but Oberon was the only one who would know the Prophet’s location. He was the King of Fairies, after all.

  “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  Death was taken aback. “No, human!” he spat in irritation. “I will interrogate him. I’ll squeeze the information out of him.”

  “We don’t have that sort of time.” Caspar looked quickly at Death. “I need to do it. His offer might be dangerous, but it could help us.”

  Death rolled his eyes. He hated the idea. His only executioner would be going into a place where death was inevitable. It was what he wanted. He realized he c
ared for Caspar, even though he considered him to be as cold as a stone and unemotional.

  “Okay then,” he said, moments later, “But he will remain with me under surveillance, until you break his chain and he gives me the needed information.”

  “That’s a bad idea,” Oberon said feebly.

  Death wrapped his arm around the reluctant fairy. “We’ll have fun, you and

  I.”

  Oberon gritted his teeth. “Your presence is worse than torture.” Caspar pulled his collars up as he watched Death and Oberon walk out

  together. He glanced at the window and peered at the blurry skies above. Balthazar hovered near the corner and said, “Are you ready?” Caspar gave him a wispy smile. “Always was.”

  Balthazar grinned, his eyes shining with deliberation. “I’m in.”

  Si

  nners

  Matrix Corporation, a multi-national company, utilized a skyscraper extended toward the heights of the blue sky as its head office. Its conical top gave the impression of a needle piercing a soft blue cotton fabric. Employees worked hard round the clock, oblivious even to their families. Some of them were metamorphosed demons. Human workers were ignorant of the activities of the demons around them.

  Getting into the building was easy, especially for Caspar. He made his way to the entrance, pretending that he was a drunken fellow and needed to use the washroom. The receptionist took pity on him and showed him the way. When he entered the washroom, he found a white floor spreading out before him beneath a high ceiling. He heard the tapping of the receptionist’s shoes slowly fade away.

  He peered out and found the coast clear. He closed the door behind him. From his satchel, he pulled out a security guard uniform and a black hat. He pulled it on and stuffed his trench coat within his bag. He tugged the hat over his curly hair. The large jacket of the guard uniform was wide enough to hide the leather bag that hung across his chest. He opened the door and made his way along the corridor.