Purgatorium

by J. H. Carnathan

  Michael stands up and peers out the open view. I watch, thinking of what he could be staring at. He turns around and looks over at the alarm clock, sitting on the nightstand. Without warning, he runs over to it and smashes the time piece to the ground. I can see the anger releasing from him as he starts to curse in every language towards his doomed situation. He tramples the room, breaking anything in his vision. He tears down everything hanging from the walls: the blueprints, the Polaroid pictures, and the frame in which the American flag was displayed.

  I look over at the snow globe on the nightstand, knowing that Michael can’t be allowed to break it or everything I have worked so hard for will be for nothing. I am ready to act at a moment’s notice, watching Michael tip the nightstand over, sending the snow globe up in the air. I am about to run in and catch it until I see it falling its way down onto the bed.

  I calm my nerves, breathing in and out the cold air as I watch Michael’s rage leave him tired, cold, and out of breath. Michael takes up the torn-up American flag from off the ground and wraps it around himself. Music suddenly begins coming out of the snow globe. He then looks over and grabs it off the bed. The music stops as he stares at it for a few seconds, almost as if he were in a trance.

  He falls down onto his knees and leans over my gambit’s outer bodied shell. He takes the blackjack off the ground and holds it tight in his right hand.

  Michael whispers from under his breath repeatedly, “In the name….”

  I gaze over to the ground, noticing Michael is kneeling down on wet carpet, thinking to myself that this is my only chance.

  I rush in behind Michael, undetected, and quickly yank his hair down to his neck line, lifting his head up to see me. He stares at the card in my vest pocket. I force off his mask to the ground. He opens his mouth and says, “In the name...of the King.”

  I snatch the blackjack out of his hand and thrust it down onto his Adam’s apple, almost crushing it. On impact, Michael opens his mouth in sheer pain.

  I swing the blade out of my knife and stick it in his mouth to keep him from closing it. Immediately after, I pull out my pistol, rotating the cock from half-cock to full-cock, releasing the safety lock. I hear his teeth grinding up against the edges of the blade.

  I jam the pistol into his open mouth, slowly pull the cock down, which releases the cock holding the flint. The flint strikes the frizzen, producing a shower of sparks that is directed into the gunpowder where it ignites the combustion chamber making the bullet fire out the muzzle, shooting clean through the back of Michael’s head down into the wet carpet.

  Michael grins bitterly, seeing the image of the lamb on the side of the pistol, and turns to look at me. I can see in his soulless green eyes that he finally somehow knows the truth in what has been haunting him for so long. He knows what I am going to do, how I am to do it, and why I will do it. His fingers grip hard onto his baton and sheet of red, white, and blue around his shoulders, knowing in his mind that with war there will always be casualties.

  However, he is unwilling to become part of my cause in the collateral damages that I have bestowed on the rest of his kind today. His eyes turn from green, to grey, to white, letting the ice take its course throughout his whole body. I drop the blackjack on the ground.

  As he freezes over, I snatch the King of hearts card from his jacket pocket, and yank the knife out of his frozen mouth. Once the knife releases, it sends a crack down its frozen corpse. His appearance changes again from an image of me to a blood-red colored demon. The crack splits in two, shattering when both halves falls to the floor. The American flag drops gracefully to the floor, covering up any sign of what’s left of Michael. It seems to lay there like a symbol of justice to a fallen evil.

  I pick back up his King of hearts mask, breaking it in two. I throw the split pieces on the flag. Looking down at what has now been created, it almost resembles a specific art piece. It calls to me. Sparking my inner thoughts with a revaluation as if it were saying that the world isn’t perfect, a certain evil lies dormant within it, within everyone, and we must fight it every single day or the devil will surely win.

  I walk over to the closet, taking a backpack out from the shelf. I put all the items I have on me into the bag, then zip the bag shut. Looking over, I find the handbook lying halfway out from under the bed. I pick it up.

  “My armor,” smiling to myself, thinking about Anna. I go and put it inside my upper right side pocket. I double pat it from the outside, letting it rub close against my heart.

  I put the bag over my shoulders and look back to my gambit. I hear the music still playing in the background, letting me know he is gonna wake anytime soon.

  I look down by my feet to the broken alarm clock lying in pieces as it reads: 44:32.

  I stare out the shattered windows, stunned I can finally see what Michael was staring at. The aurora borealis drifts through the light of the full moon with its greenish glow. and faint red colors portrayed across the night sky. I stare at the hint of red, thinking about Michael reacting to it as if he were a mad bull in a bullfight.

  I hear the music getting closer to the final chorus as I turn my head to see my gambit still silently lying there. The question still remains, did my wrath open back up my gambit’s greedy self? Or was my gambit strong enough to not succumb to my wrath’s persuasions?

  Though if he had, then why hasn’t he woken up? I think. His greed still must be bottled up inside. I better hurry up the process to get him up and out.

  I turn around and pick up my gambit and toss him over my shoulder. I walk out of the bedroom, through the living room, and out the door where I find Stephanie waiting for me.

  “Time is too short to stay serious for too long or getting a little mad ever so often,” she says to me like she always used to do when either our anger or sadness got the best of us.

  I smile, repeating what I always say back to her, “Do you mean mad as in crazy or mad as in angry?”

  “Does it make a difference?” she concludes with a soft-hearted smile.

  I nod to her, letting her know that it was time to finish this. We head down the hall in silence towards the elevator. The elevator opens and we walk in. I place my gambit down while Stephanie pushes the button to the roof and the doors slide closed.

  A joyful Stephanie points at the exit scanner above the panel. She silently claps in excitement as if she has been waiting for this moment longer than I have.

  “I hope you know where the token goes?” she says to me, playfully.

  I confidently gesture a nod to her.

  The elevator makes its way up to the last level and slides open. I grab my gambit’s arm and pull his body out onto the roof.

  I hear Stephanie say behind me, “Whatever you decide to do,” she pauses as I stare back at her, “just don’t miss.”

  I look at her, wanting to say something back but the words don’t come out. I watch as the elevator doors begin to enclose her in. She waves to me with a smile, and then she is gone.

  I focus myself and begin pulling my gambit’s body further to the middle of the roof. I drop his hand and reach into my bag to take out the snow globe. A feeling of deja vu hits me as I leave the snow globe by his side.

  I look up at all the frozen reapers hovering above me and at the snow floating motionless around me. The aurora seems to be moving away, letting me know it’s soon going to be 45 minutes.

  I make my way around the elevator to the opposite end of the roof, following the northern lights above me. I peer out at the majestic lights dancing around in the sky, getting lost in it’s beautiful silhouette.

  45 minutes

  I keep watching till the northern lights have faded off into the distance, leaving me for the last time. The lasting image revolves in my mind for eternity. I gaze up to the stars and try to imagine that each one is of a place like mine. I try guessing the star where Madi could be.
/>
  I then hear something coming from the other side of the roof. I turn and open my mind to hear that the music has stopped playing and the sound of a person talking is now all I can hear. But how long has it stopped for? I wonder. I walk back following the sounds of now two people speaking to one another instead of just one. I slowly turn the corner and see my gambit talking to Lily.

  “What is your choice? Walk?” the little girl says, pointing to the elevator, “or fall,” she continues, now pointing down off the roof.

  I hear my gambit respond, “Love and lost sounds better rather than to be lost in love. I have an empire that needs to be built.”

  Those words alone make me feel unsure if my gambit is gone and my greed instead has returned. I drop my backpack to the ground.

  I take my flintlock pistol out, knowing my only option is plan B. I walk out of the shadows and step in front of the elevator. I pull my mask down to cover my face, hoping I can bluff my way long enough. I raise the pistol and point it toward his back. I block him out, sound and mind, so he won’t get the chance to read my mind. I hold my pistol firm and keep my eyes locked on to his.

  He turns to me as I get lost in thought. I drown out his words, hearing only my own thoughts.

  I hear my name being screamed out, getting me back on track of the situation and shockingly surprised he has found me out.

  Still pointing the pistol at him, I reach up with my other hand and slowly take off my mask, throwing it on the ground.

  My greed walks over to the telescope, pulls out the piece of cloth, unwraps it, and takes out Madi’s ring. He continues, “You know, I’m not mad. I’m impressed really. You deceived all of us! Madi was right. You really are a great actor. You sure did show me—tricking, deluding, deceiving.”

  Staring at the gun I’m holding, he conveys,“You should shoot me while you have the chance! But we both know why you can’t. There are no bullets left in that pistol. Your scare tactics don’t fool me. I have counted each shot that you have fired out of that there gun. The rules were simple, seven bullets, seven demons. One bullet per. The ironic thing is that the bullet I used to shoot you would turn out to be the very same bullet you were going to use to kill me. How delightful does fate work in mysterious ways?!”

  He looks back at the ring as I can see his mind twisting, trying to make sense out of everything.

  Glancing back up to me, he says, “That’s how you knew that she wasn’t lying about Madi being in a coma. The music is not only pulling you into the memories but it’s pulling Madi in as well. That’s it! Now it all makes sense!”

  He claps, trying to taunt me with the notion of him figuring it all out. Meanwhile I stand still, no emotion running down my face, holding the gun with ease, still aimed towards his head.

  “Now since you knew there was only one way to get to Madi, you would have to become a lost soul, which entailed you sending little ol’ me up. But you weren’t going to put a demon inside your body at first—not without endangering our daughter, our little Anna. So, you thought a demon with a conscience would suffice. Or at least a demon who didn’t think he was a demon. So, you would send me up, making nice with Anna, while you go and find Madi. Killing two birds with one stone, getting everything you want. If that doesn’t sound a little greedy, I don’t know what does. You might be your worst demon, David.”

  I still stand, calmly and resolutely pointing the pistol at my mirrored self, my greed.

  His green eyes narrow as he tries to get into my mind, wondering what I am thinking. I don’t let him.

  He smiles, knowing I have put a wall up around my thoughts to where he can’t listen in.

  He clears his throat, “You have learned a lot in your time here it would seem. I mean, it is an impossible feat to accomplish how to barrier your mind from a demon. You even found your equilibrium.”

  I can see him studying me as I don’t respond with any facial expression towards anything he says to me.

  “Also, it would appear you know how the mirroring trick works as well. Which by the way, I am still trying to figure out who the face to Barachiel came from? I can’t seem to recall remembering his face in any of the memories. Maybe I just didn’t look hard enough, huh?”

  He looks at me as if waiting for an answer; I stand there still silent.

  “Anyone in there? Well it doesn’t matter,” he continues. “I don’t need to read your mind to understand the all-elusive purpose of your how’s and why’s. But really, did you think this was going to work? I mean, really? You must have been pretty desperate. Trying to convert a demon to Christ, thinking that poor alone little Anna would be safer from the real me while you go find that whore of a wife? Are you razzing me right now? You must be razzing me. I must admit you came close. You made me feel things and I hate you for that! But why get angry with you, when I will be seeing Anna with my own two eyes in just a few minutes. I will tell her that you said, ‘Bye.’”

  He raises the snow globe towards me. I don’t move, still calmly pointing the pistol at him, knowing the time is at a pivotal point.

  50 Minutes

  He continues watching me, still standing here, silent, and it begins to unnerve him.

  I study the snow globe in his hand, watching my greed winding up the music box at the base of the snow globe from the bottom. A soft melody begins to play as he follows along, whistling to it.

  “If you think you got the upper hand by holding that pistol in front of me, then be my guest. Because even if you do somehow have a bullet in there, I am still fast enough to catch it and jam it down your throat!”

  He shouts at me, shaking the snow globe in front of his face. “I would love to know just one more thing though. Why sacrifice your life for her? I mean, why?” he pauses. The pistol remains steady. He glares at it. “Love is not worth the cost of a man’s life, David. You should know that by now.”

  “I see we are having a communication problem on your end,” he continues. “Fine, then I guess I do deserve a little more talk time. I have been a little quiet here as of late. You see, what you don’t get, I understand. You think cheating, lying, gambling, and stealing are wrong. What you don’t understand is that those are necessary for surviving. You sin because it’s easy. You sin because it’s natural. Listen to the music, your time is up.”

  “I found the token,” he says, smiling at his accomplishment. I continue to stand unmoving, calmly still aiming my gun at him.

  He holds Madi’s ring up in front of me. “If anything, you should be thanking me. I have some great ideas for a book that has New York Times Bestseller written all over it. Which will get me filthy rich. And with my new money, I’ll find the people who put us here in the first place. Each one responsible will get what’s coming to them. I can promise you that! Because you know what’s the best thing about me? I ALWAYS get what I want! I’m greedy like that!!”

  I don’t flinch. I can tell my silent calmness is starting to unnerve him further.

  “I want my satisfaction, I mean, you have to admit it. After all you put in, I am the one who outsmarted you! Me!!”

  The melody continues playing from the snow globe. “Looks like this time it will be me you see, leaving on the elevator, leaving you behind. Look into my eyes like I looked into yours. Feel that feeling that I felt when those elevator doors closed and you left me here to suffer. All the while, I bet you felt satisfaction from it. Now where is my satisfaction? Huh? Where is my satisfaction?!”

  Yelling at me, I see that he doesn’t notice the chamber opening from within the snow globe. Little aluminum balls, that I made and put in there, roll out followed by a lead ball.

  I see his raised hand shaking the snow globe even harder now.

  “Where is my satisfaction?! Speak to me, damn you!” he screams, his hand inadvertently shaking the snow globe violently. It starts to fizzle from within.

  55 Minutes


  Hearing the fizzling sound, he looks at the snow globe in his hand. Suddenly it explodes, shooting water and glass into his face. His body pushes back up against the elevator wall. The rest of the snow globe falls to the floor as the music comes to a complete stop. He screams and covers his face in shock. The lead ball drops to the ground and rolls to my feet.

  I stop it with my foot, reach down, and pick it up. I calmly take the black powder and pour it in. I take the lead ball, drop it in too, and then jam the rod down twisting it to make sure the bullet is properly loaded. I pull the rod out and toss it to the side. The elevator doors begin to slide shut. I stop in front of the doors, raise the gun up, stretch my gun arm out, sliding it in between the closing doors and aiming it at him. The doors slide back open, where I can see that he is still screaming in pain.

  He removes his hands from his face and sees my pistol being pointed at him. I can see it in his puzzled appearance, contemplating the bullet that was hidden in the snow globe.

  “But how? How is there one left?! You fired all seven!”

  All at once, I see a quick movement from him to me. I look down noticing a knife has pierced in my right chest. The end of the blade tickles my beating heart. I fall to my knees.

  “You may not be able to die from the wound but it’s enough pain there to keep you preoccupied for the time being. And I can say that the time will be spent wisely. Ta-da!”

  I play it cool, looking up to find him making a break for the elevator.

  I hear him yelling from within the elevator shaft. “David! David! David! My name is David! Take me up!”

  Nothing happens, which doesn’t surprise me as I rise. I keep the knife nestled in, walking my way towards him. Hearing him repeat my name over and over are like sounds of a whimpering child in my ears.

  “Why isn’t it working?!,” he yells, pressing the rooftop button repeatedly. He acts like a monkey in a steel cage, bouncing around, yelling my name left and right. Then all of a sudden, he stops, back to me, gazing at the painting. Standing there silently still.