Unlocked

by Kevin Solomon Missal

  “What is it? Why are you doing this? I won! I won! Don’t you understand? You lost!”

  “The Achilles’ heel, Manfred.”

  Manfred narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?” he sputtered. “You say we are same, that we’re on the same side. But then, I know...I

  realized what you meant. You have a knack of leaving clues for me to find. You were always successful because I was never able to understand your clues. Now I do. When you say we were the same, you meant you...literally. I have an Achilles’ heel, so that means you do as well.”

  “What’s my weak spot, then?” Manfred prodded, as his voice grew smaller. Caspar moved toward Manfred. He pointed at his head. “Here. Your brain.

  That’s your Achilles’ heel,” he proclaimed. “You are vulnerable because you are unable to admit that you have lost. You always thought you could win, that you were so intelligent and cunning so as to pass any challenge presented to you. In your mind, you would always win. You become vulnerable when you know you have lost, when you know you can’t win.”

  “Nah, nah. You are an ordinary hero, Caspar.” There was no a hint of smile upon Manfred’s face as he looked deep into Caspar’s smoky eyes. “You are a hero. You have always been one.”

  “People tend to believe in heroes, but they forget one thing. Heroes don’t exist, Manfred.” He smiled widely. “Heroes don’t exist. Only fools full of courage do.”

  ***

  One day, you need to set things aside and know what’s important, son. One day, you are going to decide whether to give yourself up for the people you love or to live a selfish regrettable life.

  Son, you must understand one thing. No one is a hero, but our belief makes one. Everyone has a villain inside of themselves, one who comes out, eventually.

  You just need to know that you don’t live so long. That one day, you realize you are turning into someone you once dreaded the most.

  ***

  The demon headed toward the kitchen. Caspar grabbed a fork off of the counter and tried to attack him. Somehow, he passed through the entity as if it were nothing more than an apparition. He dove again, but was unsuccessful. Whenever he tried anything, the goat-headed man somehow disappeared and then reappeared.

  The beautiful twisted horns glistened and the long, curving jaw was clenched tightly. Small teeth shown as the demon smiled, its sunken eyes full of mirth. The

  Baphotem wanted something more than just random killings. Of that, he was sure. Somehow, he knew that Baphotem was just a dream.

  He watched the demon progress toward the kitchen door, opening its door. He brought his hand forward and started sucking the essence out of the people crowded within the room. Anger filled him. Not because they were dying, but rather of the fact that he couldn’t do anything to save them. He felt helpless. In a matter of seconds, everyone in the diner would die, leaving him alone in the end.

  ***

  Manfred walked to the railing, thinking about what he wanted to say next. Caspar had left him speechless.

  “Admit it, you lost. I found your weakness. The one you’ve kept hidden from everyone,” Caspar said.

  “You are right, Caspar. You are right. You found my weakness. You found the way to kill me. That doesn’t mean you will be able to stop me, though. That doesn’t mean I will stop doing what I am doing now.” Manfred smiled once more. “I will not stop and I will carve the living hell out of the universe.”

  Caspar shook his head. “No. No!”

  “You are just ordinary, Caspar, because you are a hero. Heroes will never be able to defeat me. They’ll never be able to fight me. Only the bad guys can, because to break a rock, you need a rock. Therefore, no hero can defeat me.”

  The decision will be to choose. Which one are you? The one who ends everything, or the one who protects everything?

  “If I leave you now, you would create chaos again. I can’t be the one who ends everything. I have to be the one who protects everything,” Caspar stated firmly.

  Anger spread across Manfred’s face. “Only bad guys, Caspar. Remember? Only bad guys!”

  “Then you must know one thing, Manfred.” Caspar moved closer to him, leaving just a tiny space between them. “You must know one thing and remember it well.” He smiled broadly. “I am no hero!” With that, Caspar pushed Manfred off of the railing.

  The entire group hurried through the glass door as they tried to catch a glimpse of what was going on. Manfred had gotten a hold of Caspar’s satchel. Caspar smiled and winked as they fell off of the balcony.

  Ivy gasped. Balthazar’s mouth dropped opened in surprise. They were the first ones to see what had happened. They reached the railing and looked down. No one was there. No one tumbled through the air. It was as if Manfred and Caspar had disappeared. As if they’d gone through an unexpected portal and vanished from the face of Earth.

  They were gone. Forever.

  ***

  Caspar marched toward the goat-headed man, but before he could do anything, the creature began to yell. Yet it didn’t make a sound. A flash of light burst from his chest and blinded everyone, leaving them surprised. He tucked his head against the curve of his arm to shield himself from the light by his arm and fell back on to the floor.

  The light diminished. As he opened his eyes, he found the demon had vanished. No one was there. Not even a hint of an apparition. He pulled himself to his feet and rushed into the kitchen to find that everyone was safe and sound.

  The family hugged each other close in hopes of reassuring themselves that they were fine. The corporate man stared down at his suit and started dancing on the spot. The chef and the sheriff embraced each other, crying at the same time. The pregnant woman’s hands curled around her belly to make sure that the baby was doing fine.

  “We saw light. A big light. Is it over? Is everything ok? Is everyone safe?” Caspar smiled. His once hard face grew soft, second by second. “Yes, we are

  safe. We are safe. It is over now.”

  ***

  It had been two days.

  There was not a hint of Caspar Socrates anywhere. He was lost. Death had confirmed that he hadn’t reaped Caspar and Manfred’s souls. That meant they weren’t dead. Yet where were they?

  Everything had changed. Ivy had no idea what to do. She was living in the House of David with the rest of the group, but had lost interest in her surroundings completely. When the time of burial for the martyred Nephilims came, Vivian was also buried. She had died from a severe head injury. Her death caused Siphon’s heart to hurt incessantly.

  Cassius had approached her before the burial. “Caspar hasn’t returned, but to respect his role in the war, we need to give him a burial. A human one.”

  Ivy glanced at him with red puffy red eyes. For awhile, she remained silent, until she found it within herself to speak up. “How can you have a burial of a person who hasn’t died? That’s not just,” she said, her voice a tad harsh.

  “I know, but we have to perform last rites anyway. We have to pay respect to him somehow.”

  Ivy nodded, although something held her back. She didn’t want things to end, not like this. She wanted to be on Caspar’s side. To hug him right now. Despite his cruel nature and the stupid arrogant tone he always used, he’d come to mean something to her.

  The burial took place. Vivian received a Nephilim burial. Capernaum was given one, as well. Balthazar had flown away, refusing to look back. He refused to let go of his emotions and release his pain. Harvard had attended the burial with Siphon and Hope standing beside him. The coffins were pushed to the water until they sunk down into the deep.

  Ivy made her over to Siphon and hugged him to her, even though she hadn’t had a good companionship with him. “I am sorry for your loss.”

  Siphon nodded and gave her a sad smile.

  No one knew what she was feeling. The two boys whom she’d loved had been buried. Ryun and Caspar. She knew she was unlucky in love, destined not to have a relationship with anyone. She
never did find out whether he liked her or not. She understood that he was now gone and that all her questions about him were left unanswered. She was unable to let him go.

  Siphon went away and Harvard went back to where he belonged. The burial was over for everyone. The Nephilims didn’t come to the human burial, but they paid their respects, none-the-less. Ivy and Lazarus were the only ones in attendance. It was

  autumn and a cool slight breeze across the plane. Beneath a willow tree sat a tombstone. The name, CASPAR SOCRATES, was etched across the stone.

  Lazarus, standing tall beside Ivy, presented her with a bouquet of flowers. She took it and carefully settled it upon the grave. She knelt before it, slowly brushing her palms across its surface.

  “Master Socrates fancied you, Ms. Demetrius,” Lazarus said. “He always did. He told me so. He cared for you a lot. He tried to be heartless, but he wasn’t. He always cared for those he came across.

  “He was a good man. A very good man, better than his own father. I promised to take care of him, but now I see I was unsuccessful in doing so. I regret that, but I know I served him well.

  “I don’t know what the cause of his disappearance is and I don’t mean to ask because I want to keep it that way. I want to keep it a secret.” He watched as her tears, streamed down her cheeks. “I will be waiting in the car, Ms. Demetrius. Whenever you are ready, we shall go.”

  Ivy nodded. He made his way to the BMW. Ivy stared down at the grave. It looked so lifeless, so empty, and so silent. She knew the coffin was filled with mud, sand, and few things that once belonged to Caspar. The whistling leaves rustled above her as several clouds moved in.

  “I want you to know that...um...I miss you. I miss you a lot. Uh . . .” Her throat seized as she tried to fight back tears. “I will miss you a lot. I know you sacrificed yourself for all of us, to remove chaos from this world, to remove all of our miseries. You always used to say that you never found true happiness in this world and that you wouldn’t be happy doing small things. You were wrong. You were happy. You just didn’t show it.

  “I knew it because I could see right through you. I thought that you were barely human, at first, and that you didn’t have emotions, but . . .”

  She squeezed her eyes closed as she tried to hold back more of her tears. “But I think you were the most emotional person I ever met. Your miracles made a difference and you had this absurd stupidity that I found to be so cute. Um...Uh...and I just want to say that...please, come back. P – Please, come back Caspar! No matter what you do, just come back! I love you and I miss you.”

  She ran to the car, unable to wipe away her tears. She sat in her seat, her shoulders shaking as she cried.

  Lazarus sat in the driver’s seat, waiting. “Is there a place in mind you want to go to, Ms. Demetrius?”

  She nodded. “I know exactly where to go, Lazarus.”

  ***

  Siphon waited at the door. He knew it was the end. Everything he loved was now destroyed. The door opened. Within it, stood a man with eyes as cold as marble.

  “Siphon, your presence is expected,” he said. “Yes, Zephyr.”

  He strode inside. It looked like a normal house and there was nothing spectacular about it. Warmth permeated throughout the entire alcove. He made his way toward a bedroom. Zephyr held the door open and he walked inside to find an old man that looked as ancient as time.

  His face was full of wrinkles and lines. He was drinking soup, holding a spoon within his trembling hands. A long white beard covered his entire face and thick bushy brows hid his blue eyes.

  “Siphon, please, sit down.”

  Zephyr brought forth a small four-legged stool that sat close to the bed. Siphon made his way over to it and sat down. He stared at the meek, old man, surprised that his voice was so commanding.

  “I am ready for my punishment,” Siphon breathed with disgust. “I have lost everything. I am ready to face any pain you have thought up for me because I have nothing to lose now.”

  “Punishment, my lad?” the old man’s voice was cheerful. “Why would I punish the one who saved Father’s Creation?” He smiled. He set the soup aside and placed his hand upon his head. “Siphon, I made a mistake long ago. A mistake named Capernaum. I tortured and threw him down and he became a demon. I now regret it. Capernaum was my brother. He remained my brother until his death. He helped us, without letting anyone know. That’s what loyalty is. I don’t want to commit another mistake.”

  “So you mean...?”

  The old man smiled. “You shall go back to Heaven and train as an Archangel. From now on, you will be my left hand.”

  “B – But...Vivian . . .”

  The old man’s smile faded. “I apologize that I can’t do more about her. We have lost a prophet, but to you...You have lost your life and I am sorry for that.”

  Siphon ran an unsteady hand through his hair and cried.

  “You can’t blame the past, Siphon. You have to make your future. Think about future,” the old man said with a wrinkled smile. “I hope you will forget it.”

  How can I forget it?

  “Thank you. Thank you, Archangel Michael for giving me another chance.”

  ***

  Hope thought about the fact that she could have died. She’d never imagined going through what she had the last few days, but she was happy that everything was over. She had given the ring to Death, so he could keep it somewhere secure.

  After that, everything became normal. She didn’t hear voices and she knew would no see anyone. She was happy about that. Everything was over. Her father now looked cheerful and had gotten a job as a salesman. She had made friends and had restarted school and started getting straight A’s. She had got her life back again.

  It was perhaps a Thursday, when she was coming back from school and talking to her friends along the way, when she caught sight of a nearby the church. She never went to church, as she had no belief in God, but for some inexplicable reason, she couldn’t take her eyes off of the building. Her friends had gone ahead and had failed to realize that she wasn’t with them. They made their way back to her to find that she stood rooted in place, staring at the church.

  “What’s wrong, Hope?” a girl with curly hair asked. “Is there something wrong?”

  “No. Uh...You guys go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

  She didn’t hear her friend’s disapproval as she ran inside the church with her bag dangling on her hip. She saw a row of seats and a furnished interior. A priest sat in one of the rows reading passages from a big, brown book.

  She sat next to him and said, “Hello. Um . . .” She felt a tad awkward. “What is it, child?” he prodded

  “I need to talk to you.”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled softly as he smiled. “Well, how about you tell me about what’s wrong?”

  Hope relaxed and returned the smile.

  ***

  Death was standing in front of a boy who looked so small and had no idea as to what was going on. He carried a long, sharp staff within his hands.

  He stared down at the boy and said, “You will be my executioner. A fixer, if you will.”

  He then launched into a lengthy explanation as to what it meant to be a fixer. He told him as to why he had been chosen to be a fixer and what purpose he would serve.

  “It’s a tough job.” “Are you a tough kid?”

  “Yes,” the boy said confidently, yet his voice was uncertain about the answer. “Then you will be able to do it.”

  He hesitated, at first, but then finally asked, “Am I your first executioner? I mean, am I the only you choose or was there someone else before me?”

  Death was trying to be formal with the boy, because in a first meeting, he never tried to crack jokes or laugh. He gave the boy a small, sweet smile. “There was one. He was someone I will always remember, kid. He was the best. Without him, this world would not have been the same.”

  “What was his name?” the boy asked with excitement. “Caspar Soc
rates.”

  “Where is he now?”

  Death’s smiled broadened. “He has gone on a vacation. A long, satisfying vacation.”

  ***

  Several years later . . .

  Ivy was tired. It was a long day, filled with tiresome details. She took a deep breath and kept all of her medical books in her bag and fastened it tight. For several years now, she’d been living in Socrates manor. Though, she had recently bought an apartment in London where she was studying, where she would be able to shine and rise. Her head swung up when someone called her name.

  “Ivy!”

  She turned around. Her eyes opened wide. Although quite a bit of time had passed, she remembered the boyish face, the long spiky hair, the kohl around the eyes, the bare chest with full of tattoos, and the long overcoat that changed its colors vigorously from ash to green and then to black.

  “Death!” she murmured, confused. She didn’t want to think about her past, but there was nothing she could do about that. The past had come to her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I had made a promise to Caspar before he went to war. He said that when you went to medical college or achieved something in your life that you desired, on that day, I was to give this to you.” From within the folds of his coat, he produced a letter and handed it to her. “I am just completing my duty. It was his last request and my utmost duty to fulfill.”

  Ivy took the letter with shaking hands and carefully brushed her fingers across the envelope. A roaring burned within the fireplace, warming her and the entire room. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to open it, thinking that perhaps this last letter of his would answer every question she had.