The Apollyon Game

by Clive Reznor

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

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  THE APOLLYON GAME

  THE IMMANENT WORLD IS COMING

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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  The Apollyon Game

  The floor was littered with the debris of human bodies, wasted and butchered. At the center of this ordinary space was a bowl fashioned plainly on its sides and interior, white color and smooth to the touch. Inside was a shallow pool of some unidentified liquid, thick in consistency and corrosive in odor.

  A plain man in a yellow pastel suit casually walked through the aftermath, kicking pieces of flesh and trash from his path. He stopped at the bowl and peered down at it. His breaths became heavier with each passing moment until he finally knelt down and collected the bowl. With his index finger, he swirled the rim and collected a thin layer of material there, put his finger into his mouth and sucked on it passionately. His eyes closed as he savored the taste but this was not the time to indulge. The bowl went into a plastic grocery bag, and as he left the room, he noticed the decapitated head of a young boy—no more than sixteen—starting at him with a gaping mouth and widened eyes.

  “Thank you, Joseph,” the man spoke silently. “Thank you for being you.”

  At the corner of Holmes Street and Drake Lane sat a single apartment building, off from the rest of the complex, built of brick and aged by decades of weather and neglect on the outside. The inside was renovated, however, and the apartments themselves were spacious. On the top floor, in unit 3D, resided Mitchell Maclaroy. Tonight he wasn’t home. Away on business, he left the place to be watched by his younger sister Portia, a rebellious girl with an affinity for being a darkly dressed outsider.

  It was a little before eight and the night had taken over the sky. Portia stood on the balcony and observed the night, breathing in the damp air that had been chilled by a rain shower some hours earlier. The moon was a faint sliver on this night, its glow barely cutting through the blackness of the sky. This was certainly not a typical evening—Portia had already reconciled that—it was a night where strange energies lingered in the air. She could taste them on her tongue and feel them crawling over her flesh. She inhaled deeply, held her breath for a moment and then exhaled slowly. This process was an ingesting and expelling of the night’s energies, or so she hoped. They would be needed for what lay ahead.

  Over the next quarter hour came a number of guests. Five souls entered her brother's apartment and what a collection of diverse personalities she had gathered. Portia had invited them all over to play a game, a new game she had purchased over the internet through one of her social media groups. It required six to play, but Portia really considered herself having only two friends. Liz, an Asian-American goth girl whose wardrobe was just as black as Portia’s, and Kerry, a slender boy who had just recently burst out of the closet with an abundance of flamboyance that was ever evident in his decorative eye make-up and loud jewelry. The other three were people Portia had known but was not necessarily close to.

  Latoya Russell was as ‘hood as you could get. She was tall, naturally muscular and had a mouth and personality that would overshadow anyone else in the room if she felt like making her thoughts on anything known. Portia had met her in rehab last year, and the two had kept in touch over the last few months. That was their bond, but beyond that, there was very little they had in common.

  Callie Creedlove came from an entirely different world than either Portia or Latoya. She was fond of lacrosse, her Tuesday youth group after school, and unlike Latoya, rarely had anything negative to say about anyone. In grade school, Callie and Portia were the best of friends, but by their teens, their divergent interests and decidedly different family lives drove a wedge between them. Now they would consider each other friends in the loosest of definitions, so when Portia called Callie to come over for a small gathering of friends, Callie was equally surprised and excited. She had longed to renew her friendship with Portia but had never been able to find a way to do it. Tonight could provide that very opportunity.

  Lastly was Meredith Mumpower, a neighbor of Portia’s brother Mitchell who lived in the very same apartment building. Portia had known her for a few weeks through her brother. Meredith cared for men, clothes and reality television. Not much else sparked her curiosity from what Portia could tell as the woman only seemed to engage in conversations about those three topics. She was friendly though so Portia saw her as a good candidate for the sixth player in the game, a spot that she had a hard time to fill, but Meredith seemed to fit perfectly.

  “So, what’s up with this game?” asked Latoya, already becoming bored with the company at the party.

  “Yeah,” Meredith chimed in, “what is this thing? I’ve never heard of it. What’s it called again?”

  “Probitas Comburo,” Portia answered.

  “Sounds like Latin or something. Where did you find this game?” Kerry asked, not wanting the conversation to go on without him.

  “On the internet, where else? This guy I met at Otakon last year told me about it. It took him a while to track down someone who actually had the game pieces. Some guy in Germany was selling original copies online, so I bought one.”

  “Must have been expensive,” Meredith remarked.

  Portia smiled at her, “More than you can imagine.”

  “And what is the purpose of this game? I mean, what kind of game is it?” Callie asked.

  Portia now had the full attention of her guests. They had managed to form a semicircle around her, focused on her every word. It wasn’t often Portia was afforded such attention. She had often been ignored in public life.

  “It’s kind of like a truth game, you know. Like Truth or Dare, but it’s got a bit of a Halloweenish tone to it.”

  “This isn’t like devil worship or something?” Callie asked, her voice showing great caution. “You know I’m not comfortable with anything like that.”

  Kerry groaned at her worrying. “God, really? I mean, I shouldn’t have said, God, because that might have offended you too. But I mean, come on! It’s a freakin’ game! You’re not going to Hell if you play a game that has some twisted pictures on the cards so stop worrying.”

  He flipped his hand towards Callie in a dismissive manner. She didn’t see reason to protest any further. Portia was staring at them both, and for a moment Callie felt a rush of coldness from Portia’s gaze.

  “No, this isn’t devil worshipping, Callie. But please don’t thump the Bible at us tonight. Most of us aren’t really up to hear that. It’s a party, try to have fun.”

  Liz, who had been in the bedroom for most of the conversation, entered the room with a box full of items that ranged from bottles of alcohol to small closed plastic containers.

  “You got everything, right Liz?” Portia asked her friend.

  Liz labored to get the box into the living room and sighed with relief when she no longer had to carry it. “Yeah, everything’s here. I guess we can start this shit.”

  “Sounds good. Okay, let’s play.”

  “This better be fun, Portia. I ain’t staying here all night for some bullshit,”
Latoya warned as she read through text messages on her cell phone.

  “Trust me, Latoya. You won’t be bored,” Portia smiled.

  The living room was the largest room in the apartment and came with the standard beige carpet, off-white walls and sliding glass door the led to the patio. A flat screen had been affixed to the wall along with a video game system that sat on the floor beneath it. Aside from that, the room had no other real furniture. Portia had moved the small loveseat into the dining room so everyone could sit in a circle and play the game.

  She put the cards out first. They were elegantly designed with intricate spirals, circles, and triangles that surrounded a symbol in the center. The symbol was of a shut-eye that was either crying or bleeding between its lids. There were three stacks as Portia explained: the Spirit cards, the Time cards, and the Challenge cards. The white bowl was placed at the very center of everyone and Portia seemed to take great care in making sure it was precisely in the center of the circle. Finally, she set the oddest part of this game down: a single triangular die. It was quite larger than any dice the party had seen before, about the size of a two-liter bottle. The piece was made of two pyramids, stacked end-to-end, with intricate patterns etched on each of its polished bronze sides. At the center of each of the six sides was a number which looked as if painted on by a shaky but deliberate hand. The numbers went from one to seven, skipping the number three.

  Latoya picked up the piece and turned it in her hands. “What the fuck is this? This shit’s heavy.”

  “That’s the Pith Die,” Liz explained, showing a growing irritation with Latoya’s blunt personality.

  “A what?” Latoya said, rolling the die back into the circle.

  “Pith. Dice. P-p-pith,” Liz repeated slowly.

  Latoya noted the attitude, “Don’t get smart, alright little chow mein. I will go off on you in her house, trust that.”

  “All right, all right, we’re not here to fight,” Kerry said, breaking up the fight before it got started. “So, Portia how do we play this thing?”

  Portia was about the business of lighting candles. She set a few in the kitchen nearby, some in the bathroom and another two dozen in the living room around the circle. She then turned off the lights and joined the others.

  “Is that really necessary?” Callie complained. “I told you, I don’t …”

  “Yeah, yeah, blah blah church girl. We know,” Kerry cut her off. “This is supposed to be a spooky game. You have to turn the lights off.”

  Portia took one of the candles in her hand to bring some more light into the circle. She proceeded to explain the rules of the game to the party.

  One player, the Soultender, would take the Pith Die and turn the top half clockwise according to the number on the bottom half, then turn the bottom half counterclockwise according to the number on the top. Once they were done, the Soultender would pick a partner, a Soulcatcher, for that round.

  The Soulcatcher would have the choice of answering a question from the Soultender. If the Soulcatcher chose not to answer the Soultender’s question, the Soultender would use the top number of the Pith Die to draw a Challenge Card (face down), the bottom number on the Pith Die to draw a Spirit card (face down), and then draw the first Time card (face up).

  At that point, the Soulcatcher turns the Challenge card face up and would have to complete the task on the Challenge card within the time allowed from the Time Card. They still have the option of answering the Soultender’s question at any time to end the round if they didn’t want to complete the Challenge.

  If the Soulcatcher completes the task in the time allowed or answers the Soultender’s question, they win that round, keep the Spirit Card face down as part of their hand, and the game continues. If they do not, the Soultender shows the Spirit card drawn, and the fate of the Soulcatcher is determined. A Soulcatcher can choose to use a Spirit card in their hand, if they have any, to determine their fate in the game if they lose a round. A Spirit card can save a player from being removed from the game, require the round to start over again, or (most likely) remove the player from the game.

  “Sounds complicated,” Callie commented as she cautiously scanned over the game pieces before her.

  “Not so much,” Portia reassured.

  There was an awkward silence as if no one wanted to be the instigator of the game’s beginning. Liz braved up to it and placed her hands on the Pith Die. She marveled over its design – the intricately detailed swirls and lines – and with a hint of wonder in the pupils of her eyes, turned the top clockwise twice, which revealed the number five. She then turned the bottom counterclockwise five times, which revealed the number seven. Looking around the circle, she knew who she wanted to ask a question of first.

  “Latoya,” she grinned, “I choose you.”

  Latoya had not really been paying attention to what was going on for the last few moments, preoccupied with text messaging. She awoke from her trance and stared deadly at Liz. She had no time for this girl and her interest in the game was waning with each passing moment. However, she would play just to see if this game was entertaining in the least.

  “All right,” Latoya scoffed. “Ask what you want.”

  Liz took satisfaction in finally starting the process. She gently placed the Pith Die down on the carpet and folded her hands together as if pondering some great question about the universe. What came out was less than transcendent.

  “Do you hate white people?” she asked.

  Latoya, who had been chewing gum rather obsessively, stopped her chewing immediately and threw an insulted look at the goth girl across from her. Liz turned the Time Card over, revealing three minutes.

  “I don’t need three minutes to answer this. No, I don’t hate white people. I mean, y’all get on my nerves sometimes with the crazy shit y’all do. I mean, look at you.”

  Liz sat up straight, offended at what she thought was about to be an assault on her person.

  “What about me? I’m not even white!” she protested.

  “I mean, you act white. All that mess you wear. Black eyeliner, black lipstick, black fingernail polish. What is that? You supposed to scare somebody with that?” Latoya asked.

  “It’s being original, not that someone like you would know anything about that. You’re hip-hop ghetto trash 101,” Liz responded.

  “Now, let’s not get nasty with this. She answered the question, she gets the Spirit Card,” Portia interrupted, not wanting the game to get contentious so early.

  Liz drew to the seventh Spirit Card and slid it over to Latoya, face down. Latoya looked at the card, turned her face up in disgust at what she saw, and then sat it face down in front of her. It was now her turn. Latoya grabbed the Pith Die and instantly began turning the top and then the bottom in a reckless manner.

  “I’m gonna ask your boy over there a question,” Latoya said, pointing at Kerry. “Have you ever slept with a girl?”

  Without hesitating, Latoya turned over the time card, and it marked one minute. Kerry was clearly caught off guard by the question and stumbled over his words for a few seconds. He then opted defiantly to take the challenge instead. Latoya drew to the fifth card in the Challenge deck and turned it over.

  “You must consume half a bowl of a clear spirit before the time expires, or offer your fate to the spirits,” read Callie as she was taking more of an interest in the game now.

  “Spirits?” Latoya questioned.

  “It means liquor,” Kerry snapped. “Someone get the damn vodka before the time runs out.”

  Liz had a bottle right next to her in the box she brought from the other room. She poured the white bowl half full of Grey Goose, and they all sat back and waited for Kerry to drink. He looked into the bowl and then the clock, seeing only thirty seconds left for him.

  “That’s a lot of vodka for a damn shot,” Kerry exclaimed, now realizing that a half bowl of vodka wasn’t the easiest thing to go down. “Can I just …”

  “Answer the question or drink
the vodka,” Portia cut him off. “Or, leave your fate to the spirits.”

  There was something eerie in the way Portia spoke, but Kerry was willing to play along with this game. He grabbed the bowl and sloppily gulped down the drink. Half-way through, he coughed and stopped drinking. The room laughed and started to chide him.

  “Come on, Kerry! All mouth and no game!” Liz smirked.

  “You’ve got ten seconds to finish that,” reminded Portia, the second hand on the clock in the living room ticking away without concern.

  With a gasp, and a few more sarcastic remarks from the rest of the party, Kerry choked down the rest of the vodka with two seconds to spare. He dropped the bowl and shook his head in an attempt to dilute the sting of drinking so much vodka in such a short period of time. He coughed, his eyes watered, he snorted, but after a few moments finally composed himself.

  “Are you okay?” Callie asked, patting him on the back.

  Kerry pushed her hand away and coughed again before answering, “I’m fine. Give me the card girl!”

  He smiled happily at Latoya, having bested her in this round. Latoya drew his Spirit card. She nodded to him, impressed that he could actually drink that much and not vomit on the spot. It appeared that some of the intensity of this diverse group was, for the moment, lessened. Perhaps that was the point of the game, to begin with, Latoya thought.

  “My turn,” Kerry exclaimed as he coughed one more time before picking up the Pith Die.

  He turned the top and bottom and revealed a five for the top and a two for the bottom. The Time Card had two minutes on its face. Kerry didn’t know exactly who he wanted to ask questions of but decided, since it was her game, to go for Portia. She nodded and waited for Kerry — who seemed all too enamored with the attention of everyone in the circle — to ask his question. He looked up, then down, then stretched his arms out, all before finally getting to his query.

  “What are you afraid of?” he finally asked.