Purgatorium

by J. H. Carnathan

  The elevator’s clock reads 12:00.

  I see Stephanie and Uriel, still barefooted, enter. She presses the button for the 30th floor, turns to Uriel, and starts kissing him all over his face and neck. I watch, not understanding what I am witnessing. As the doors close, Uriel pushes her away. Feeling water on his bare feet, he looks down and sees the rug is drenched with water.

  “Kinky,” Uriel says, slightly worried. He looks up and knows that I am hiding on top of the elevator. “Gucci, I am very disappointed in you.” He takes hold of Stephanie by the neck. “So you do have some balls underneath that skirt of yours,” he says to her.

  Stephanie kicks Uriel in his groin and a hand chop to his throat sends him up against the wall, pinning him there in agony.

  “More balls than you will ever have,” she says, grinning at him. I drop down, smiling at Uriel’s pain. I make my way back down into the elevator.

  I raise the pistol to his face as Stephanie gets behind me. I measure him from his head to his barefoot toes, and notice the King of diamonds card is still nestled nice and straight in his jacket pocket.

  “Trying to start the race off a little earlier than expected, I see,” asks Uriel, looking at my mask. “But I have to ask, was my acting on point or what? You see that third grade theatre teacher was right about us, Gucci.”

  I look down at his feet.

  How is being barefoot angelic?

  “You know why I go bare?” continues Uriel. “Let’s say there are two boys. The first boy gets into trouble, so daddy whips him and he feels it. Weeks go by and he’s up to no good again. He gets whipped again. He still feels it. Now, take the other boy. He’s bad all the time and has a drunk for a father. He gets whipped every night for years. He comes home after another misdeed. His dad whips him. Do you think he feels it?” He pauses, awaiting my response. “If you get used to something long enough you get attached to it—like a ring.”

  He holds up his left hand, distracting me with his ring. Uriel quickly flips out his knife and cuts off my middle finger. The gun drops to the ground. He tries to go for it but I force him back to the right side of the elevator.

  “Now you are free from it! No more lies to tell!” Uriel says, smiling. The elevator stops, arriving at its destination on the 30th floor. Uriel takes his knife and aims the blade to my groin. “Let’s just stop with all the lies and let everything out!”

  He laughs as I try to force his hand, holding the knife away from me. The blade gets closer as Uriel looks over my shoulder and says in a calmer voice, “What do you say about that, toots?” His smile turns into something sinister.

  Bang! A bullet suddenly flies past me, straight through Uriel’s teeth, shooting out from behind the back of his head and going through the right wall. I quickly look over and see Stephanie, now wearing the mask, holding the smoking pistol in her hand. She pulls the mask over her head. “You’re welcome,” she says with a smirk.

  We watch as Uriel’s body goes limp and transfigures into a resemblance of me, slipping at first, then freezing over. Its demonic pink face comes to fruition as it falls stiffly to the elevator floor and shatters on impact. Only Uriel’s ring and the King of diamonds card are left on the floor. My third finger reforms as the elevator doors open. I look at the hole in the right wall that the bullet made. It went clean through, I notice in amazement.

  “I’ll distract the reapers as long as I can,” Stephanie says to me, running to the stairway door. Looking around the elevator space, I realize she took the pistol with her. My only defense.

  I walk out of the elevators onto the 30th floor just as a man comes out the other. I look at the man wearing my Jack of hearts mask that I recently lost. I point at it, confused as to why this random man is wearing it. I glance at his suited attire and remember Barachiel wearing the same outfit. I then see the man holding a flintlock pistol in his hands. I look closer to see the lion engraving on its side. I point at his gun, wanting him to know that the pistol was mine. He then tosses it to me. I grasp my hands around the gun, looking back at the man confused.

  Is that you Barachiel? I think.

  The man continues to say nothing. I look at the other elevator and see another frozen dead body lying on the elevator’s soaking rug. I turn my head back to the mysterious mask wearer to find him holding a dark green marble bag over his head. I am captivated by its shimmer, which reminds me of the color of my eyes.

  Suddenly, without me knowing, the man tosses it up towards me to catch. Once caught, he rushes past me and steps inside the elevator I was just in. Before I can do anything, the doors close.

  Looking into the muzzle of the gun, I can see a lead ball already loaded in. I tuck the pistol back behind my pants, wanting to know what that was all about. I look back at the green marble bag and feel a small round object inside. I let it roll out onto my palm.

  It’s another lead ball? That had to have been Barachiel then.

  Without getting a chance to think, I breathe out cold air. Placing the lead ball back in the green marble bag, I stow it in my pocket. I see the sign for the stairs on a door to the right, push it open, and start ascending.

  I quietly run out of the stairwell into the hallway, out of breath. There’s ice all over the open doorway to my office. I tiptoe to just outside the doorway. Looking down and seeing the reaper’s shadow, I quickly calculate how high up its skull is.

  I take two steps back, then sprint obliquely through the doorway, pushing up off the wall, spinning 180 degrees, and stabbing the reaper’s skull. It falls to the ground, melting.

  I look up and see Raphael, frozen in my chair, dead. The hourglass reflection is just behind me in the window. I pick up the reaper’s skull and throw it through the window, shattering it outwards. Looking out, I see reapers swarming at the bottom of the building. They look around, sensing heat from inside my office.

  One reaper, larger than the others, touches the building. The whole structure starts to freeze over from the bottom, level by level. As each level freezes, it shatters and collapses, the rest of the structure slamming down to the ground.

  I push Raphael’s dead body out the window to distract the reapers. I feel the office tremble as I watch the reapers swarming towards the dead body. Ice freezes the floor entirely.

  Seconds later, reapers attack Raphael’s body, ripping him to shreds. The building is quickly being destroyed, floor by floor. The 53rd floor collapses below. My office is just two floors up. I am now in the hallway. I run to the other end of the building, looking behind me. Reaching the far window, I throw myself through it as the floor drops out beneath me.

  15 Minutes

  I land in the bushes, get up, and sprint around the back of the building toward the restaurant. Once at the rear door, I push it open and run up the stairs. I enter the kitchen, trying not to make a sound, and look out the window to find reapers outside flooding toward the restaurant. I run to the meat locker, on the way, grabbing the silver cloche cover with the hourglass reflection on it.

  I open the meat locker door. Looking down, I see ice on the floor to my right. Suddenly, a reaper grabs my hand, freezing it. My frozen hand and the silver cloche fall to the ground. My hand shatters instantly, distracting the reaper. I jump inside the meat locker and slam the door shut behind me. I look at my nub and try to reform my hand, but it is too cold to concentrate.

  At that moment, I feel someone grab my pistol from the back of my pants. “Are ye lion or lamb?” It’s Michael, I think. Michael now searches my pockets, finds the green marble bag, and takes it as well. “In the souls of the people, the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage. I will be the one that takes them to that vintage. The world will never see me coming.”

  He takes out the extra lead ball from the green marble bag and holds it up to the light. With one eye shut, he stares at it. Seconds go by as he puts the lead ball back in the
bag, smirking as if he had discovered a secret.

  Michael gets into my eyesight. He appears to be holding a mask. He turns to look at me and holds it up for me to gaze upon.

  “Just like she never saw me coming.”

  My hazy eyes can see enough of it to know it is the Queen of hearts mask that he’s holding. I turn around and see Stephanie sitting on the ground, beaten and bruised. She whispers, “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry you got caught, maybe,” he says to her. He looks back to the mask in his hand. “If this has all been one big game, then why not shuffle me in? Another player on the board brings more of a challenge, which brings more strategy, don’t you think? Or I could just take your worthless spot, as it seems that you have come across too many bad hands and all. Unfortunately, this mask won’t do.”

  He tosses the mask at her face. “The first thing you learn as a card player is: Don’t play the hand in which you were dealt if you don’t even know what you have. That is called common sense, which is something you do not have,” he declares with a loogie to her face.

  He looks at me. “As for you, heard the starter pistol shoot a little bit too soon, didn’t we now?” He smacks me across the face and laughs. I look at him with condemning eyes.

  “So you sure are acting like a lion now, aren’t ya, my boy? I would feed you to the reapers for your insubordination but what can I say, I need ya.”

  He goes over to Stephanie and runs his hand over her hair. “Do you understand what this day was even for? Barachiel was supposed to help you find your token. Now since you made this courageous effort to start the race off one day before, we are all now in a pickle. The good news is Miss Lost Soul over here knows where it’s at.” He looks to her and smiles. “Don’t you, my dear?”

  I look at her. There is broken glass on the floor beside her. I look down and see my reflection in it. It moves its mouth and I hear its words in my head. “Michael must not think that you know what your token is,” it whispers. “Keep your mind empty.”

  I lie there, paralyzed—blocking my mind of everything.

  Michael says, holding the pistol to her face, “You have been a thorn in my side ever since you arrived here. You have been gettin’ in good with our boy here. Gaining his trust just so you can stab him in the back when the time comes. Isn’t that right?”

  Michael looks to me. “You still think she is on your side, don’t ya?” he says, glancing back at Stephanie. “How sweet is that?!” Turning back to me, he says, “How all of us have been misled this evening.”

  20 Minutes

  Michael walks around her, like a wolf about to attack his prey. “Tell him the three orders of purification, deary. Or would you like my blackjack to do all the talking?”

  He holds up his beating stick. The bottom of the handle is lassoed around his wrist, allowing him to twirl the baton around and around, intimidating us.

  Stephanie speaks, “The first step is knowledge of one’s sins—regenerating the mind.”

  “I see you got that figured out, or do you still think I’m an angel? I kid.” Michael laughs, then continues, “Though, knowing is only half the battle. You must kill the one who started this ridiculous lie, the party planner himself or herself. The demon that got this whole thing started. Have you figured out who it could be? I’d be honored if you thought it was me, but sadly you’d be mistaken. I can give you a hint.” He points to Stephanie. “This filthy lost soul is working with it.”

  She tries to speak, but Michael hits her with the blackjack across the head. She falls, skull smacking against the floor. Michael hands me the pistol and quickly whirls around behind me, grabbing my hand and aiming the pistol hand at her.

  “Like me or don’t. Either way, she needs to talk or die.”

  I look at her as she tries to speak. “Don’t! Please!!”

  I see my reflection in the glass, talking and hearing it in my head. “She has been lying to us. She was going to backstab us. She played us. We should have never trusted her.”

  Thinking he has convinced me, Michael lets go of my hands. I continue to hold the pistol up, aimed at Stephanie. I visualize her as the woman I slept with at the casino. Trying very hard to concentrate in the cold of the meat locker, my head spins. She is not my enemy, I think to myself. There is no proof to what Michael is saying. He is just one of my demons!

  Michael tightens his grip on the blackjack and whips me across the face, knowing what I am thinking. “You still think that I am lying? They really did do a number on ya, didn’t they? I guess that’s what happens after a reaper fries your memories for the billionth time. You get less smart about things.”

  Michael walks over to Stephanie. “It’s time you start remembering.”

  She screams, “Don’t! I’m begging you! Please!”

  “Remember what I said about a picture,” Michael says to me, “and how it captures a man’s true soul?”

  Michael reaches inside his pocket, takes out a stack of photos, and throws them at my face. They fall to the ground. I look at them in shock.

  “Let me tell you a story,” continues Michael. “What if a demon were to creep after you one night, in your loneliest loneliness, and say…”

  I have heard these words somewhere. I try to remember. I start to recall the last moments of my past self, before I was reaped. I can visualize it. I was on a rooftop, I recall. I was shivering uncontrollably, wet from the head down. There was a small fire being made. I was being carried. A necklace transfixed me, swinging back and forth before my eyes, hypnotically. I could not clearly see the man wearing it, who was carrying me. The man put me down and started talking to me.

  “What if a demon were to creep after you one night, in your loneliest loneliness, and say this life which you live must be lived by you once again, innumerable times more. Every pain and joy and thought and sigh must come again to you, all in the same sequence. The eternal hourglass will again and again be turned, and you with it, dust to dust!”

  Now I remember the face of the man. The man wearing the necklace was a person who looked just like me! He put a flask in my jacket. He went over to the fire and grabbed something. He then came over to me and untied my ropes from my hands. I saw his coin necklace hanging around his neck. I ripped it off. I heard the chain break, thinking I had at least some satisfaction of taking something away from him. But the man didn’t even grab it back as if, for some reason, he wanted me to have it. He moved my body over to the edge of the fire. After a few seconds, I stopped shivering, feeling my clothes starting to dry.

  He said, “Would you throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse that demon?” The man with my face left a snow globe a few steps in front of my body. I saw the aurora borealis glowing in the sky. I saw the top half of a Celtic hourglass on a ledge. Snow was falling around me. I twirled the snow globe in my hand. I saw the fake snow whirl around inside it.

  I suddenly heard a shrill shrieking sound in the distance. It sounded like something terrible was about to happen to me. Then the shriek got louder. I grabbed my ears, to no avail. I looked over and saw that same man standing in the elevator. Why was he wearing my face? I saw him turn into another man—Barachiel! The man who looked like me turned into Barachiel! Next to him in the elevator I see Stephanie, waving to me. I felt heated, enraged at what was happening. My body’s temperature joined me in my temper tantrum as it started to get warmer from the fire.

  I looked over and a flood of reapers swarmed over me. One laid its hand on me and everything went black. Then I woke up, back in my room, with no memory of it.”

  25 Minutes

  Looking again at the photos, I see they are all of a demon in Barachiel’s clothes. Barachiel is one of my demons! I think.

  Michael interrupts my thoughts. “He was the one who started this whole gag from the beginning! When he presented the idea to us, I was hesitant at first. But hey, can’t argue with th
e outcome. It was a humorous idea he had though: demons posing as angels to try and get you to trust us. To make it fair, he suggested we would gamble on the outcome of the race to see which one of us would take your life. Though I knew all the time not to trust him. Greed always has a hidden agenda. Once his greedy self started taking all of us out, I knew the only way to beat him at his own game is to take his accomplice here. All he needs to do now is find the token and I can’t have that happen. Not when we are so close. Which was what again, dear?” Michael looks over at Stephanie.

  I stare down at the broken glass again. My reflection says, “She knows your token! Kill her before she tells!” I lift the gun, aim it at her, and put my finger on the trigger. “She was using us! Remember, cheaters always cheat and liars always lie.”

  My mind feels like it’s battling between reason and doubt. It shoots out an uncontrollable pain when I let go of the gun to bring my hands to my head.

  Michael is bent over, laughing. “That was really tough for you, wasn’t it?” he says to me. “Making a choice between life and death is a hard gamble if you don’t know the stakes.” He snatches the gun off the ground.

  I bring my hands down from my head, feeling the pain slowly washing away from me.

  “But let’s not try and kill her just yet. I still need something from her.” He turns to look at Stephanie. “Now, where were we? Ah yes, the restoration of the soul.” He turns back to me. “You see, your soul was split into two forms: the hourglasses and what we call the token. Breaking the hourglasses forms the door, and the token is the key to unlocking it.”

  Michael moves to stand near the door, his hand on the handle. “I’ve got no problem opening this if it means I get the information I need.”

  “Go ahead! The reapers can’t sense lost souls, remember?” she says to him.

  “Oh, that I do remember. That’s why I see out this window here that the reapers brought their lost soul thirsty razor hounds out to play. I hear they start at the leg and work their way up. Nasty habit.”