Unlocked

by Kevin Solomon Missal

  “But he’s not lying,” she countered.

  “You seem so sure. He is lying to you. He is saying the truth. Yet you tend to believe that he’s telling you the truth, just because you have . . .” He brought his hands up to make his point.

  “Faith,” she murmured with astonishment.

  “Yes. That’s what faith is, Hope. That’s what I have. That’s what Ivy has. We have faith. We have faith in Him, that He’s helping us right now. You are looking at the other side of the book. You are looking and are thinking that He doesn’t exist. But then, he could also exist. Might or might not. It’s just the way how you look towards your life.” Caspar leaned upon his cane. “If your atheist emotions are in order now, we need to have a talk.”

  Initially, Hope was too stunned to reply, but she composed herself. “What do you want to tell me?” she asked.

  Ivy sat down beside her. Caspar was never good at saying things properly, so he stood silently with the invisible Balthazar standing nearing who was yawning a lot more than usual within the corner and staring at the two girls. Caspar could see how different the two girls were. Yet their similarities were also uncanny.

  They were young and tragedy had hit the both of them. They had lost a parent, one way or the other, and both of them were sad. He saw as Ivy’s calm exterior and her soft skin reminded him of a crossbow field. Hope was equally beautiful with bright blue hair, sharp light gray eyes, and a curved jaw. Her skin was tanned, unlike Ivy’s, who was as white as snow.

  Hope gasped and ‘wow’ed, every now and then. She would shake her head, refusing to believe any of what she heard from Ivy. Sometimes, she would nod and think that perhaps Ivy was saying the truth. In the end, she sighed and snuck a glance at Caspar, as if through her eye contact she was trying to say something to him, something he should know. She turned her back to Ivy, who patted her arm as she told her to get dressed.

  Caspar exited the room with Balthazar in tow in search of Hope’s father. He explained that she would stay with them for some time. On hearing that, her father literary jumped in delight because Hope never used to have night outs and had always been an anti-social maverick. But now, everything had changed.

  Hope’s father let her go. Without tarrying any further, they left her home. It took hours for them to reach the House of David. Far away, they saw the isolated beach house as if it was lonely and full of despair and sadness.

  Hope was surprised. According to Solomon, the House of David had pillars, pavements, granite floors, long thrones, marbled tables, and beautiful chandeliers. Though, the beach house was completely different, it was unique and contrasted sharply with the other houses found nearby.

  Balthazar became visible, startling Hope completely.

  “Blimey!” she gasped as she nearly tripped, but found support within Caspar’s

  arms.

  He wrapped an arm around her waist, tightening his hold as he brought her close, their chests almost touching. She met his eyes, unable to make sense of what she saw within them. Caspar himself felt a tad confused. He settled her back on to her feet. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ivy’s nose flare in disgust.

  “What is that?” Hope asked.

  Balthazar turned to him. “I don’t like her, Caspar. As she says ‘what’ to the most beautiful gargoyle ever lived on Earth?”

  “Every gargoyle looks the same, I guess.”

  “Okay, gal, that’s enough.” To his irritation, Balthazar ignored her. “What’s his problem?” Hope asked quietly, to Caspar.

  “He doesn’t like when people comment on his...um...beauty.”

  Hope smiled. Caspar didn’t react to it. He saw Ivy again, who now wasn’t looking at him, but her face was pinched tight, for some reason. He neared the house and knocked upon its door. No one answered. He knocked again. There was no sound, whatsoever, coming from inside the house. He looked at his companions, feeling a tad perplexed. Their faces mirrored the same expression he wore upon his face. None were sure as to what was going on.

  He turned the knob and the door opened. The long, lonely corridor spread out before him. He clutched his cane tightly as he moved forward and made his way into the common room. Fib was sleeping on the couch, drooling over it and snoring loudly. His spectacles were lying on the floor. Caspar banged his cane on the ground with force. Fib got up, his eyes blurry as he looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened.

  “Hey, guys.” He waved at them sheepishly. “How’s it going?” “Where is Vivian?”

  “Who?”

  “The Prophet, you idiot. Where is she?”

  Caspar grew restless as he looked around the house. Balthazar and Ivy did their best to search, as well. Hope sauntered inside, dragging her bag along with her as she wondered as to what was going on.

  Once the entire house was searched, Caspar approached Fib. He no longer cared about the fact that Fib admired him or that he was the kind of kid who got bullied by everyone all the time. He didn’t pity his timid look, his small pimples, his oily hair, and his large spectacles.

  He grabbed Fib’s collar and partially strangled him as he said, “For how long were you sleeping?”

  “I – I – I don’t k – know...I – I don’t remember,” Fib stammered, his pupils growing pale.

  “Where is Vivian?”

  “S – She...I don’t know. She was in this room a few hours ago and now...uh...she’s not here.”

  Caspar tossed him to the ground. He bounced as he fell upon his chest, his spectacles falling several meters away. His nose was now bleeding, a small red circle forming across his throat. Ivy ran over to him to see if he was okay, only to find that he had a broken nose and was now unconscious.

  “What have you done to him?” she cried.

  “We have a problem in our hands, Ivy,” Caspar growled. “The Prophet – she’s missing. Damn! She’s missing. Lucifer must have gotten her somehow.”

  De

  vil’s Abyss

  Siphon couldn’t believe that he was there in front of Raphael. Raphael seemed so calm and so suave, unlike the man he knew in Heaven, where he was ruthless and always shouting. Maybe the new skin had gotten changed him somehow, making him into a much more peaceful person. Raphael’s rain coat flapped behind him as he moved.

  Two angels wearing white suits appeared, their faces devoid of any expression. Raphael, on the other hand, looked amused. Perhaps it was because he was staring at Siphon who seemed so small in front of him, almost like a toddler. Raphael was one of the Four Blood Brothers His aura was strong and affective, causing Siphon to remain rooted in place.

  “You disappointed me, Siphon,” Raphael said, smiling. “Why would you do

  that?”

  Siphon didn’t answer.

  “I should answer that for you, I suppose. You are in love.” Raphael’s voice was certain. He must have heard of that fact from other rival angels. They must have told him about his disobedience and the breakage of angelic law. “Now, an angel falling for a pathetic oracle – well, that’s a nice story we’ve got here.”

  Capernaum pulled himself to his feet as Harvard dusted his coat. They came to stand beside Siphon.

  “You are working with a demon and a werewolf? That’s worse than dying,” Raphael stated as he walked up to the laptop and gave it a quick look. “I shall make sure that you get the harshest punishment any angel has ever gotten.”

  Siphon’s mouth pressed into a tight line. He dreaded the thought of the kind of punishment Raphael would exact upon him. His legs grew numb. To his surprise, he almost slunk to the floor.

  “Why are you here?” Capernaum asked.

  “That doesn’t concern you, demon,” Raphael replied haughtily “It does.” Capernaum smiled. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  He sounded as if he knew Raphael. With a fleeting glance, Raphael glanced at him as he tried to understand if he could find a trace of someone he had known in the past. When he found what he was looking for, his face relaxed and he smil
ed. “Ah, Capernaum! It’s been so long,”

  “How do you know him?” Metatron asked.

  “We were good friends back then,” Raphael answered. “We had a connection, you and me. But you spoiled it all and bore the consequences for the same reason Siphon has.”

  “You were in love?” Siphon and Harvard asked in unison.

  Capernaum could be considered as a Russian mafia boss, but never a person who would have fallen in love. He seemed so elegant and dangerous at the same time. There was no shadow of an expression on his face that could suggest he’d been in love in some distant past. He refused to tell them anything and remained rigid instead.

  “We aren’t here to discuss my past.”

  “Oh, but we should.” Raphael was clearly having fun. “How did you know we were here?” Harvard asked. “My brother told me,” Raphael replied with honesty. “Gabriel?” Harvard prodded.

  A light bulb went off in Metatron’s head. He’d been quiet for some time. “No, not Gabriel. Not the...It is Lucifer. You are working with Lucifer, Raphael?” He was shocked by the notion.

  “You mind your business. You aren’t in the warfare. You never were,” Raphael snapped.

  “Why did you take sides with The Devil?”

  “The world made him the Devil. Before he wasn’t Devil, he was Lucifer. He was the Morningstar. He was someone I admired, the only brother I looked up to. Michael was a pawn, a soldier who listened to Father and did his bidding, but Lucifer had a brain of his own. He knew that Earth was meant to be ours. No one paid attention to me when I took sides with Lucifer, because I was small. But now, after his rising, he comes to me and tells me to join him and I couldn’t stop saying myself from saying yes.”

  “But you are an angel!” Harvard came forward and for the first time, he didn’t look like the nervous, stammering scientist that he was. “You are destroying everything you have seen for so many years.”

  “I believe in the Morningstar,” Raphael said.

  “You’re not in the correct frame of mind right now,” Capernaum interrupted. “Lucifer is just getting back at his father. He is not making a place for you to live.”

  Raphael shook his head. “You can make me reconsider the notion, but it will be in vain. I don’t care about any of you, or any of your attempts to change my mind. Right now, I am going to kill you all. Well, all except for Metatron as he wasn’t part of anything and we need someone to write the great histories of the Morningstar and Raphael.”

  “I never shall do your bidding you traitor!” Metatron yelled.

  “We’ll see about that.” Raphael smiled coolly at him. “Now, let’s start with the boy. He’s been a pain in the ass for a long time indeed.”

  “How did you know we were here?” Siphon asked. “How did you know we were going to meet with Metatron.”

  “Oh, um...Lucifer told me.” He was still smiling, enjoying the moment. “He said that he squeezed this piece of information from the Prophet Vivian Elijah, the person you fell in love with, Siphon.” His knowing smile grew larger.

  ***

  Lucifer was sitting in his revolving chair, looking at the mirror, which reflected his beautiful and glamorous visage. His simple, gray suit made him look appealing in the dim light of his office. He stared at his employees who worked aggressively around him.

  He loved it. He loved the anxiousness and the suffering his employees were going through. They were scared of him, scared that perhaps the next instant he would strike his manic smile and do something horrible that no one could imagine.

  The glass door opened, letting Leviathan in. His black suit and white tie accented his pale face, as did the way he combed his hair by parting it to the right side to give himself a pleasing aesthetic effect.

  “Any progress?” he asked, his voice husky.

  “Just the same,” Leviathan replied. “She just told us about the Metatron,”

  “I hope Raphael doesn’t disappoint me because things could turn messy.” He rose his feet, slowly buttoning his coat. “Call her to the office. I need to see her now.”

  . Lucifer could see that Leviathan wanted to offer him an opinion or a suggestion, but he shrugged the thought aside and exited the room. He made his way over to the mini bar and poured some wine into a glass. The blood red color of the drink fascinated him so much that he wanted a sip of it ever so often.

  He sat on one of the sofas that were placed opposite to each other. In between was a small rectangular table so shallow that it wasn’t even noticeable. Lucifer sipped his drink once more, his eyes roving toward the door. He eagerly awaited the Prophet’s arrival.

  He glanced at his watch, a diamond studded Rolex. Sighing deeply, he closed his eyes until the door opened and a feeble looking girl with golden hair walked inside. She had a small cut upon her cheek, which was scarlet in color.

  “Hello Vivian! I’m Longhorn Darcy.” “You are Lucifer, I know.”

  “Perhaps my detractors have told you about me.” “Why are you after me?”

  Lucifer ignored her question. From his coat’s inner pocket, he pulled out a thin envelope. He slapped it on to the table and slowly slid it toward Vivian. “I know you are a bright child, Ms. Vivian Elijah. I know you value your education more than anything and that is the reason, I am giving you this.”

  Vivian’s brow creased in confusion. She took the envelope while keeping her gaze upon him. She unwrapped it and saw a letter.

  “It is a recommendation from me to Yale. A recommendation from someone like me can get you straight into the heart of that university.”

  He came on his feet, while Vivian clutched the edges of the letter tightly. She gazed at it with concentration as if her own life depended on it.

  “Think about it, Vivian. Think about what you will achieve. The education you longed for, imagine how much your parents would be proud of you. The society would look up to you and your rivals would be jealous of you. Think about the feeling you’d get.” He walked around the sofa.

  Vivian’s eye didn’t waver for a second. She kept reading the same words, again and again, to see if there was some loophole, something that said that it was all wrong. But it wasn’t like that. A cat-like shine flashed in her eyes. Lucifer’s hand gently touched her shoulder and her heart began to pound erratically.

  “You will get the highest of social statuses, Vivian. You would study in the best university and graduate from there. In return for such a big offer, all would require is a little information. Just tell me how to bind the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

  She looked in Lucifer’s direction. “I don’t know who the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse are or how to bind them.”

  “If you stress your mind and think about it with all your concentration, you will be able to answer my question,” Lucifer said, his voice as sweet as nectar and deeply persuasive. “You can change your life, Vivian. You can change everything about yourself. You can start a new life.”

  “W – What about Siphon?”

  “Oh, that angel...?” His voice had gone from sleek to rough. “I will strip off his wings personally and make him a mortal so he could, with no distraction, stay with you.” He smiled widely, his dimples deepening upon his cheeks. “You will have everything, the life you want, the boy you love, and the status you wanted. All in exchange for a little information that will do you no harm.” His eyes were almost bobbing out of their sockets.

  “But what about the Earth?”

  “Your friends, they have given you false information. I am not going to do any harm to this world. Look at me, Vivian,” he urged as he crept closer to the glass door, his skinny jaw loosening. “Look at me and see! I have everything I want. Why would I greed for more? I have power, I have money, and I have respect. Why would I need more?”

  “So why are you binding some Horsemen?”

  “They are stronger than me and the people who are stronger than me...um...shouldn’t exist. So I am going to bind them, in a way which would allow me to use them f
or my own purposes. I am not evil, Vivian. People consider those they can’t understand evil. People don’t understand me. That’s not my fault.”

  “Are you...are you lying? I am sure you are lying.” Even though, it was a statement, it sounded like a question, as if she was trying to reassure herself.

  “Now, why would I lie to you? Hmmm? To extract information? No, not at all,” Lucifer said. “I’ll tell you my objective and if you still think I am lying, then so be it. There’s the door, you will be free to go.”

  He moved toward her. “I pity this world, Vivian. I pity it badly. The world we live in has been made into Hell. Worse than Hell, in fact. I see that the world we live in is now slowly disintegrating into the abyss of night and slowly, everything will end. I am trying to help this world. I am trying to purge it of all kinds of hatred humans have possessed for one another. I am trying to make a big heart out of this round ball of gases. To make it, I need that information.”

  Lucifer walked over to his table and picked up a folder. He flipped through its page quickly. “So, what do you think?”

  She examined the recommendation paper and then looked up at Lucifer Morningstar’s small, smooth smile. She looked down once more, trying to think about what she should do. “I . . .” Her small fingers grabbed the edges of the paper. “I don’t know.” She shivered. Her skin had gone from brown to white. “People say to not help the bad guys,”

  Lucifer smiled. He didn’t retort or retaliate. He stood there and smiled, as if he was happy with her decision. His fingers curled about his glass of wine. He took a sip from it before grabbing the LCD remote and switched the television on.

  “Then perhaps, people would have also said you have no other choice but to help the bad guys, if they have your parents captured.” He pointed at the screen.