Unlocked

by Kevin Solomon Missal

  Two employees wearing black suits grew closer. They were quiet as they walked along. They were stiff and frowsy. He easily identified the demons. Caspar lowered his head and pulled the cap low across his brow as he walked past them. Their red eyes wept over the anonymous guard, but they discarded the notion that they’d seen him somewhere. He soon found himself near a lift. He kept his head down and looked at his shoes.

  The lift opened and Caspar entered it quickly.

  ***

  Longhorn Darcy wore a sleek gray suit as he strode into Wozniak’s office. Wozniak was a computer genius, an engineer, and a vital human resource for Matrix Corporation. Without him, the corporation wouldn’t tower high above other IT companies. Wozniak, though, was never appreciated for the work he’d done. Until he’d found him working along one night.

  “Mr. Darcy, please come inside.” A shiver of nervousness rippled down his spine, his eyes becoming perceptibly dim. “What brings you here?”

  His knowing smile said, ‘I want success. And you will get that for me.’ He looked around to find piles of rugged files and scores of folders scattered across the floor. “You are quite a working fellow, Wozniak. I appreciate that.”

  Even though his words were warm, there was something cold about him. Perhaps it was something in his eyes or the way he spoke in a husky, deep voice.

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy,”

  “Tell me, Wozniak,” he said, pinning him with a corrupt look and a malicious smile. “Why are humans such interesting specimens?”

  “Um...Uh...I dunno, sir.”

  “Take a guess.” He approached the overflowing desk and leaned against it with his arms crossed upon his chest.

  “Maybe because they are so advanced?”

  “Wrong,” he replied in distaste as if he hated wrong answers. “Some of them amongst this bunch of idiots are intelligent humans. Some are quite intellectual, but they’re not appreciated. And you, my friend, are one of them.”

  “W – What do you mean, sir?”

  “You are promoted. You are now the head of this office, more like a CEO. I need good people working under me, not just flabbergasting idiots with stains on their white shirts. All right?”

  “Y – Yes, sir.”

  “Good. And one more thing . . .” His finger slid into the air as he explained things. “Do you know why humans are so stupid?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Take a guess,” he goaded as he slid closer to Wozniak. His hand slid his back. “Again.”

  “Because they are j – just stupid?”

  Longhorn laughed throatily, the soft sound reverberating throughout the shadowy room. His arm tightened upon Wozniak’s back and he could almost feel the bones being crushed. “Because they don’t know how to keep secrets. They have a knack of telling secrets, even though they don’t know how much pain . . .” The word came like an absolute warning. “How much evil will happen if they divulge them. Nor do they know of the consequences they will face. Tell me, Wozniak . . .”

  “Y –Y . . .” he stammered. He was too scared to say more. The searing look on Longhorn Darcy’s face plunged him into the abyss of his worst nightmares.

  “Do you know how to keep secrets?” “Y – Y . . .”

  “Is ‘Y’ your answer?” There was no a hint of smile now. Just an excruciating look on his face full of anger. “Is that your answer, Wozniak?”

  Wozniak shook his head, sweat dripping down his forehead, his cheeks, and his nose. “N – No, sir.”

  “Good. So once more I’ll ask you, Wozniak, do you know how to keep secrets?”

  “Y – Yes sir.”

  “Are you one of those stupid kinds who like to just spill important secrets about someone, about the company they work for, even though they know what will be the consequence doing so?” Longhorn clenched his jaw.

  “No, sir,” he said as he shivered.

  “So why on Earth did you tell our rival company about the new design we were making for the welfare of the people?” Longhorn asked as his skin grew warm.

  “It was just...a...a...slip of words. I am sorry.”

  “Slip of words,” he mused. “Oh, I see. It’s a mistake. A simple mistake committed by every human. Am I right? If you do this again, I will skin you. I mean it. And yes, I am warning you. If you want to tell the police, it’s fine with me, but you know as well as I do, they can’t touch me. So, are you going to say it again? Are you going to slip important secrets about us to the other company?”

  “N – No, sir.”

  “Marvelous!” He let go of his shoulder and Wozniak breathed a sigh relief. “This office...It’s boring. You have a nice office upstairs, next to mine.” Longhorn smiled broadly, trying to be as warm as possible. “GOOD TALK,” he said, offering Wozniak his favorite corporate smile as he closed the door behind him.

  ***

  Caspar was lucky. The corridors were empty when the lift opened. He knew where Lucifer’s office was. He’d seen it in one of his interviews of his as he’d shown

  the reporters around, pointing out how furnished and how compatible to the surroundings the furniture was. Walking slowly and making no noise, he found himself in a circular chamber where two men in black suits sat, flipping through the pages of the magazine. They looked up, their eyes ruby red.

  “May I see your ID card?” one of them inquired as he got to his feet.

  Caspar gave him a tongue in cheek smile that he usually saved for distracting his enemies. “My ID? I wonder whether having an ID or not having an ID is as equal is having an ID. After all, we don’t need ID for showing who we are or where we belong or to what city we belong. Do we have badges on our chests saying HUMANS? Well, of course not!” He moved about, talking in an offensive manner in hopes of distracting them as he rubbed his hands together. “But it does make me wonder . . .”

  “Sir, the ID?” The demons weren’t baffled.

  “All right, all right. You are a wee bit curious, aren’t you? Now, now, where did I keep my . . .” He searched his bag, hands vigorously touching the soft leather until he found the small vial. “Yes, here it is.”

  He uncapped the vial and flicked his hand so that it splattered through the air and drenched the demon in front of him. The water wasn’t ordinary water. It was Holy Water.

  A burning sensation rippled through its skin. Smoke was visible and sparks flew until the demon’s face turned to ash. The other demon pushed its wing out of its suit and its face changed into a giant bat with runes and symbols all over it. The human skin sifted the floor coated with black blood.

  Caspar twisted his cane’s handle. The sudden glow blinded the remaining demon. Caspar closed his eyes as he rolled over and swung the blade about, cutting

  through the fog. The light dissipated and he found the creature lurking behind him. Its talons clawed his jacket until it was in pieces. It then threw him across the room toward a painting. His face smashed into it with such force that a large bloody bruise formed near his mouth. He smeared the blood from his lips and frowned.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” The demon looked on and waited.

  Caspar growled. “I shall do worse things to you,” he said and winked. The demon’s wings grew as it puttered about the room. He groped around

  Caspar as he faced its soft, rubbery skin. Without another thought, he plunged his shotel into the demon’s wing. Its loud shriek grated within Caspar’s ears. It was like hundred orchestras with bad musicians were being played together upon a huge stage.

  He tossed his blade aside and covered his ears. The demon puffed into thin air, flakes of ashes fluttering to the ground. Despite the fact that the demon was, Caspar could still hear the sound of its cry. He wiggled his finger within his ears in hopes of clearing the sensation.

  Once he was satisfied that he no longer heard the creature’s wail, he turned his shotel back into a cane and made his way toward Darcy’s office. Along the way, he took off the once tattered jacket that was now in one piece. He lo
osened his muffler and pulled up the trench coat’s collar as he entered the room.

  He found it elegantly furnished. Centralized air conditioning came in through a ventilated grill. An unoccupied silken chair sat behind a small round table. A plush carpet covered the entire floor, its red color seeming strange, yet magnificent. The room was quiet an unguarded room. Perhaps it was because Lucifer didn’t like being interrupted by anyone.

  He walked over the table and started rifling through its contents. It was his only chance since Lucifer was not there. His eyes fell upon numerous folders. Wearing his black-rimmed spectacles, he examined the folder. His eyes grew wide as he saw the designs of hovels where humans would reside by the hundreds to be used for labor. There were also places where demons would party. Every part of Earth was colored with red, showing that parts would go to those who would work against their own race because they knew they would lose and Lucifer would win.

  He was fostering treachery amongst many as he had done with the Nephilims. Briefly, he remembered the burial. After wiping off the entire human race, leaving a few behind, Lucifer would not destroy the world, but preserve it as his own medal. It would be his own domain where many would worship him and he would rule.

  He moved away from the folders. His hands shook as he reached for the black apple that lay upon the glass table. It was beautiful and splendid. Caspar had a hard time holding on to it. It was both warm and cool to the touch and was rather delightful to hold.

  He didn’t want to throw such a beautiful thing upon the floor, but he did so, none-the-less. It fell without making the slightest noise and shattered into pieces, sprinkling its dust all over the ground.

  The doors opened noisily. Caspar looked up. Longhorn Darcy walked inside with a big, welcoming smile. Two demons followed in his wake.

  “Caspar Socrates! You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” Lucifer said, his eyes glittering with menace. He made his way toward a red sofa.

  Caspar was pushed to the floor by one of the demons. “I see what a wonderful guard you have! How violent,” he said with a cheeky smile as he slid out of the

  demon’s grasp and hurried to the opposite sofa. Like a bumbling fool, he rested against it.

  Lucifer held a glass of scotch within his hand. “You don’t seem as I expected you to be.”

  “Well, you don’t have horns and wings.” Caspar smiled. “We aren’t what we expected, don’t you think?”

  “Are you acting your way out?”

  “Oh, no. No, no.” Caspar shook his head as he scanned the entire room for a means of escape. Unfortunately, there was only one door and it was guarded by two demons. “Why would I do that, eh? Your presence is what I desire.” He chuckled as he stood up.

  “Why are you here, Mr. Socrates?”

  “It’s not every day you find out that a corporate billionaire is the devil. I wanted to meet you. To meet the Devil himself.”

  “By breaking into my office?”

  “I expected that you would be here.” “Yes, well, I wasn’t.”

  “Whose fault is that, then?” Caspar gazed at the trophies and medals belonging to the real Longhorn Darcy.

  Lucifer sipped his scotch. “I heard you were one of the few who didn’t want me to rise.”

  “How preposterous,” Caspar said. “Whoever told you that?” “Half of my men.”

  “But the other half didn’t, I gather?” “How could they? You killed them.”

  Caspar’s mouth twitched with amusement. His bronze eyes knowingly sparkled. He examined the trophies and medals closely. He then moved on to the photographs of Longhorn Darcy meeting Dalai Lama, Barack Obama, and other great people for his achievements at such a young age. His heart raced. Any second, any minute now, a blade or a claw could be pierced within his heart and he would succumb to a painful death. He knew he had to be fearless. For all he knew, Balthazar was listening to everything, but he hadn’t done anything as of yet.

  Lucifer smiled viciously. “You are with the rebel alliances?”

  “Well, yes,” Caspar replied as he continued to examine the photographs. “Was that your only option?” Lucifer asked as he came to stand beside him.

  “Was that what you wanted? To be against me?”

  Caspar didn’t reply. Anything he said would cause a reverse action, something he wanted to avoid, at all costs. His eyes continued to dart about in search of something that could help him escape.

  “I am going to offer you a business proposition, Caspar” Lucifer said. “Because I know if you would have gotten other options, you would have at least thought about opting for them.”

  “What is the proposition?”

  “Join me. I know you have great potential. You work for Death. Death doesn’t appoint anyone daily, certainly not a mortal!” he laughed. “A mortal with limited knowledge and power. Death has surely seen something in you. Which is why it makes me curious. I received news about you from someone the day before.”

  “What kind of news?”

  “That you have an Achilles’ heel,” Lucifer mused. “That’s the reason you are still living. Else, you would have died. That’s the reason Death appointed you to the

  position you have now because you are invincible, just like Achilles. But unlike Achilles whose defiance cost him, you keep yours well hidden. Not even you are aware of it. The main thing is that I don’t care where it is. I care that if a person with an Achilles’ heel is born in this century, I want to get my hand on him, no matter what.”

  Caspar chuckled. “That’s horrendous! I would have known if I had such heel.” “That’s the problem. You don’t know.” Lucifer clenched his fists. “I need a

  powerful slayer, an indestructible person who could help me and would be on my side. You are that person. You have an Achilles’ heel. By not allowing anyone to know where it is, you cannot be killed. You cannot be killed, Caspar,” he said vehemently. “Think about it. About not being killed. You will only die of old age, or until your heel is discovered. Only then, would you be vulnerable. I need a fellow like you. So the proposition is this: join with me and we will rule the stars!”

  “By ladder or lift? Stars are much too far in space.”

  Lucifer grunted. A taunting, malicious smile threatened to creep upon his thin lips, yet he held it back, despite the urge. “I am not joking here, Socrates.”

  “How would I have received the heel in the first place? It isn’t like I bathed in the River Styx.”

  “Not everyone acquires a heel through the River Styx. Some just get it on their own. Some are chosen. Luckily, you are one of the chosen ones.”

  “Bah!” Caspar spat. “That is preposterous! Chosen? Me? That just happens in movies.”

  Lucifer lowered his head and took a deep gulp of his drink to prevent his lips from quivering. He looked up abruptly, his eyes glinting. “The thin line between

  imagination and reality is breaking, Mr. Socrates. It is being erased. Soon, there will be no difference between them.”

  “How are you so sure about that?” Caspar’s jaw tightened. Flashes of anger and hatred brightened his eyes. He wasn’t the bumbling fool he became when trying to distract his enemies. He was back to his original demeanor, purely arrogant and quite astute.

  “Because I am the one who will break it,” Lucifer said. “Why are you doing this, Lucifer? You are an angel.”

  Lucifer scoffed. He found the notion irritating. He seemed so genuine when he asked him about the big WHY. There were so many reasons, so many streaming memories he’d forgotten that came back to his mind in a flourish, straining his brain and creating a headache and trauma.

  “I was once an angel. Until my own father, whom I loved the most . . .” Tears welled up within his eyes. “Until he threw me down into that pit and cut off my wings. Do you have any idea how much it hurts when the person you love, admire, and respect the most leaves you alone, all alone in a dark, tormenting place where no past, present, or future exists?”

  Caspar cou
ldn’t answer his question. He had no idea as to kind of existence that was like. Granted, he could only imagine such a thing, but he preferred not to. Still, Lucifer seemed to be traumatized by what he’d gone through and for a short while, he felt pity for him. He was like a small child, whose plight dug deep into a person’s heart.

  “I felt bad. I felt angry. Angels were never meant to have emotions, but I had...I had powerful emotions and was filled with hatred. Not for my father, but for those pathetic beings who took my place. Do you know why my father threw me

  down? Because I protested. I protested in favour of my own kind, for myself, that we angels should receive Earth as our own. We didn’t want to see it go to those primitive apes that didn’t even know how to talk and were filled with their disgusting smell and their . . .” He stamped his foot angrily.

  He was not sure, but Caspar swore he felt the Earth shaking.

  “I wanted us – myself to be here, to be on Earth. I wanted my brothers and sisters to stay here, not some degenerate race. So I asked. I resisted. I rebelled against the Will of God and I asked my father, ‘Why can’t we live in a place where we, in reality, belong?’ He didn’t say a word. Unlike everyone, I asked Him this, which was a sin. What kind of sin is that, Caspar? Eh? What kind?

  “Father told me he created humans to live on Earth. I didn’t want that to happen. And then a hard truth hit me. He loved the degenerates more than he loved us. He loved them more than his own loyal sons and daughters who had always taken care of Him, who had always assisted Him in whatever he needed. Instead, he loved you. Your kind. Your race. I resisted and collected a group of angels who supported me. Such actions were not tolerable by him and he threw me down into that pit instead.”