“Avun-Riah?” whispered Father Armadeuso, wonderment rippling through his eyes while appraising Sebastian. “I had not thought I would live to see the day.”
“Yeah, well now you have,” said Vain impatiently. “Get over it.”
“What is it I can do for you?” inquired the old priest.
“How much do you know?”
“Priest studied here with me for almost a year, trying to learn more about the Avun-Riah and the Souls of Sordarrah. I am the one who discovered the existence of Empeth.”
“Well good for you,” retorted Vain. “When you finish patting yourself on the back, maybe you can tell us what to do. Priest is dead, and I think the Souls of Sordarrah might not be too far behind us.”
“Priest is dead?” wheezed the old priest. “How did he die?”
“Your Empeth turned up and got him when he was looking for us.”
“Are you sure he is dead?” asked Father Armadeuso shakily.
“Pretty sure. I’ve never known for men to live long after yodeling like Priest did.”
“There are worse things than death, my son,” murmured the old priest. “And unfortunately the man you are facing is a master in many dark arts that would be better lost in the sands of time. I fear Empeth may be gathering The Four to come after you.”
“The Four?” asked Vain.
“Better known as the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Legend says they will ride across the Earth on the Day of Judgment.”
Vain gazed expressionlessly at the priest. “Is there a special school where they send all you idiots to learn this bullshit?” he asked coldly. “If I hear any more talk of Days of Judgment or horsemen riding out of a two hundred thousand year-old bastard named Empeth’s ass I swear I’ll kill every mother-fucker in this place. Tell me something based on fact old man, or I’ll carve large holes in your head to help you understand me.”
“You dare say these things in the house of God!” cried Father Armadeuso, making the sign of the cross.
“I dare, old man. Where is your God now? How strong will your faith be after I shred your carcass and piss in your skull?”
“Who are you to say such things?” whispered the quivering priest.
“I am Vain,” the Dark Man hissed bitingly.
Father Armadeuso paled and his hands began to shake. “Y-you’re an assassin,” he stammered. “Priest mentioned you, but I thought he was joking. You kill and torture people for money. You are evil personified. What was Priest thinking, enlisting your aid?”
“I don’t know and I wish more than anything he hadn’t. But right now I’m all you’ve got, so you’d better get used to it.”
The old priest swallowed heavily, pausing to let his nerves settle. “The people you are up against are zealots,” he began carefully. “They will stop at nothing to obtain the Avun-Riah. They believe their leader Empeth can summon demons in the guise of men, and that when the time is right he will summon The Four into the world of man. The Four will then kill the unbelievers and deliver the Avun-Riah to the place of atonement.”
“Where is this place,” asked Vain.
“The writings we have say nothing of its exact location, although they do mention a land in the West, possibly somewhere in America. When the child is sacrificed they assert the Earth will plunge into darkness for a thousand years, during which the impure will be cleansed, and only the true followers of Sordarrah will be left to inhabit the world.”
Vain pondered the old man’s words. The Souls of Sordarrah were fanatical – he had already seen what their beliefs could drive them to. The Four could be merely skilled assassins like himself – dangerous, but still vulnerable to death if it came down to it. If they wanted to have the boy back in America, simply staying away from there should eliminate the issue. After all, it was only months until the time of the sacrifice, and if they survived long enough they might have to hide no longer.
“I need weapons, where can I find them?” asked Vain.
“W-weapons?” responded Father Armadeuso incredulously. “What makes you think I would know anything about weapons?”
“Why did that black bastard send me to you? Are you going to be any help at all or just continue rambling on about hocus-pocus bullshit?” sneered the assassin. “If you don’t know where I can buy guns, could you kindly point me in the direction of somebody who does?”
Father Armadeuso ignored the Dark Man’s scorn. “I believe there is a gun shop owner on Portecelli Avenue who may be able to assist you. A man told one of the other priests in confession that he had bought some guns illegally from him about a month ago.”
“I thought confession is supposed to be kept secret, Father. Do you treat all of the church’s sacraments so lightly?”
The priest shrugged his shoulders. “I think when you’re facing the end of the world, God won’t mind a few little slips along the way.”
Vain fixed the priest with an impassive stare before grinning. “I may come to like you yet, old man. Keep sinning for a few more years and we might even manage to be friends. Just try to avoid the temptation of those little altar boys.”
Father Armadeuso grew speechless with rage while Vain walked off chuckling loudly, pausing at the door to collect Sebastian.
“We need to stay here for a while, organize something while we’re out,” he called back to the priest without turning.
Father Armadeuso stood frozen to the spot for a long time after the two had disappeared. He wondered what was worse; the Avun-Riah in the hands of the Souls of Sordarrah, or under the protection of the Dark Man.
* * * *
Vain met with the short, pug-faced gun shop owner that afternoon. At first the man refused adamantly to sell the assassin anything without the proper ID or licenses, but soon changed his tune when Vain produced a thick wad of bills from the pocket of his black jacket.
“I really need these guns to take my son hunting this weekend,” he lied smoothly. “Could you please assist me? I’m willing to pay whatever you want.”
Whatever he wanted turned out to be almost four times the normal price, but Vain simply smiled stiffly and handed over the money.
“Come again,” called out the shop owner as they left.
“Be careful what you wish for,” Vain returned coldly over his shoulder.
When they arrived back at the church they found arrangements had been made for them to stay in a small villa close by. Several days passed and they rarely left their rooms except to go to the library where Father Armadeuso had left the secret tomes of Sordarrah for Vain to read. He refused to let the assassin take the books from the church grounds and vehemently denied Vain when he’d tried.
“I need these books, you old bastard,” Vain had protested. “I need to know my enemy and I don’t want to sit in this stuffy hole to study them.”
“You can ask me,” Father Armadeuso replied, “I know everything there is within those pages.”
“You’re even stuffier than the library,” Vain snapped. “I could just take the books you know. There’s nobody here who could stop me.”
That had brought a chuckle from the old priest. “If you take the books from holy ground, Empeth will feel it. He will know where you are and come to Rome looking for you.”
“More bullshit.” Vain rolled his eyes.
“Maybe,” agreed Father Armadeuso, “but do you want to take that risk? I think you’re starting to run out of countries willing to accept your fake passport.”
Finally, Sebastian settled the matter, convincing the Dark Man to come to the library with him. “It will give us a chance to get out and see the town a little bit, just in case we need to get somewhere quickly again.”
Vain caught his meaning and reluctantly agreed. It would be good to see the area around them in case they had to run again, and going to the library afforded a reasonable excuse. During one of these sojourns, a visitor arrived to see them. The library was empty, and Vain heard the light footsteps slowly approach.
; “Well, well. Finally I have found you.”
Vain reached for the pistol concealed within his jacket. “There is no need for that, Dark Man, we are old friends and should have no use for weapons.”
The speaker moved into sight. Sebastian gasped. It was Priest! Yet something chillingly darker lingered about the man that Vain couldn’t quite place.
“Stay where you are, boy.” Vain slid smoothly to his feet. “What’s going on, Priest? We were certain you were dead when we left you. There’s no way you could have survived those wounds.”
“Ah yes, the wounds. Well, Empeth was nice enough to heal those so that I could come here for you. Unfortunately your friend Priest couldn’t come as well. There wasn’t enough room in here for the two of us.” The visitor smiled darkly.
Vain noticed a mark on the man’s brow, briefly caught in the candlelight, a pattern of interwoven lines constantly moving beneath his skin, almost as if something were crawling in the same pattern just below the surface, over and over again.
“Who are you?” asked Vain coolly. Sebastian looked on quizzically, but remained silent.
“Perhaps you have heard of me, Dark Man,” Priest’s form pronounced calmly. “I am Sekiel. I am Death. The last of The Four to be reborn and I am hungry, so give me the boy or get out of my way!”
Two cracks echoed from the walls. The shots were possibly the fastest in Vain’s career, but they were to no avail. Both bullets hit Sekiel square in the chest, failing even to draw a pause. The bullets simply stopped short and crumpled on impact, making two light clunks dropping to the floor.
Sekiel brushed the spot where the bullets had struck with the back of his hand, like shooing away an annoying insect. His hand shot forward with lightning speed, making to grab the assassin, but it was flung back roughly, seeming to have hit an invisible barrier.
Sekiel cradled his hand, apparently stung from the incident. “Unfortunately my powers are weak here and I am unable to deal with you while you cower on holy ground.” He almost spat the words. “I guess we’ll just have to wait for you to leave. You can’t stay in here forever.”
Sekiel turned and strode from the library, his words taunting the frustrated assassin and terrifying the boy.
* * * *
“We have to get you out of here.” Vain quickly grabbed Sebastian’s hand.
“Wait,” pleaded Sebastian, pulling his hand from the Dark Man’s grasp. “They will know the exits. We must find another way.”
Vain weighed their options and cursed himself for his stupidity. What had he been thinking? To tell the truth, Sekiel scared the assassin in a way no other living thing ever had, even before his display of power. Gritting his teeth, Vain pushed aside his panic and calmed his thoughts.
Escape.
Looking around, he noted four main exits. Anticipating his enemies would have all four covered, he examined other possibilities. The windows above were too high to carry the boy to, and even if he could, he doubted they could both jump to an adjoining rooftop, the closest being at least twelve feet away.
A priest entered the library to investigate the noises and instantly Vain grabbed him and pulled him aside.
“Did you see anyone outside?” Vain hissed at the startled priest.
“A man dressed in black, like you. His eyes were the same.”
“How do you mean?” asked Vain.
“They were... dead.”
Vain grimaced and released the frightened priest. “What lies below the library?” he asked.
“Nothing... except for the sewers.”
“Can we get to them?” asked Vain.
“Well, yes I suppose you could go through the grill in the basement, but why would you want to do such a thing?” The priest frowned.
“Just for the atmosphere of the place, Father,” grunted Vain dryly. “Can’t get enough of it. Now shut up and show us the way.”
The terrified priest moved to the corner behind the unattended library desk and lifted a rug. Beneath it hid a square trapdoor which the assassin quickly pulled open. The priest handed Vain a small torch from underneath the desk and stepped back.
“Is there anything you want me to tell Father Armadeuso?” he asked tremulously.
“Yes. Tell the old bastard to pray for us,” muttered Vain, descending the iron ladder.
Sebastian thanked the priest politely before following the assassin into the dark basement where Vain knelt near the corner.
“Here, hold this,” said the assassin, handing Sebastian the torch. Vain then grasped the metal grill with both hands and strained to tear it from the bricks setting it into the floor. The Dark Man’s muscles bulged beneath his jacket until, with a low groan, he finally tore the grill out and flung it aside with a loud clang.
“You didn’t have to be so rude to him you know,” Sebastian rebuked him softly.
“What?” Vain turned roughly to look at the boy, incomprehension furrowing his brow.
“The priest. He only meant to help. You could see he was scared.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Vain incredulously. “You’ve just seen a guy we both know was dead, up there walking and talking again, even after I shot at him – which by the way, didn’t even crease his shirt – and you’re worried about my manners?”
“No, I’m not kidding,” said Sebastian, his confidence growing. “Sometimes you can just be rude for no reason. It doesn’t hurt to be nice once in a while you know.”
“Jesus, you sound just like my wife,” grumbled Vain, returning his attention to the entrance of the sewer.
“Was she always right too?” asked Sebastian quietly.
Vain paused, realizing what he had just said. He had no wife. He had another man’s memories of a wife floating around in his head, but that didn’t make them his. He shook the thoughts away.
“Shut up, boy, or I’ll give you some horror stories about premature ejaculation that will keep you awake for a month.”
“What’s that?” asked Sebastian innocently.
“Don’t worry, you’ll find out on your own soon enough,” Vain chuckled. “If we live though this,” he added softly to himself.
Vain led the way into the dark of the sewers, and the two marched through the filth for almost an hour before he felt satisfied they were far enough from the library and their pursuers. They soon found an overhead manhole cover that they hoped would lead outside and into some fresh air.
Climbing an iron ladder bolted into the wall, Vain put his shoulder to the cover and heaved it open, gasping at the fresh air filling his lungs. Suddenly his senses flared and he felt the onset of danger. Before he could react however, a hand grabbed the collar of his shirt and easily hauled him from the hole. Sebastian quickly followed up the ladder, stepping out to see the Dark Man on the ground surrounded by four figures. Sekiel smiled maliciously.
“Run boy! Now!” roared Vain, but even as he turned, Sebastian’s arms were pinned behind him in a vice-like grip.
“You forgot, Dark Man: your friend Priest could read your thoughts,” derided Sekiel. “That power is now mine. We were able to follow you easily. You might as well have been walking through the main street with a flashing neon sign above your head.” The Four chuckled mirthlessly.
Sekiel loomed forward, but the Dark Man leaped to his feet and drew his two Glocks. The Four now laughed with genuine amusement, and Sekiel slapped the pistols aside with lightning alacrity.
“I thought you would have learned by now, Dark Man,” he sneered. “Your puny weapons have no effect on us.” His right hand shot forward, gripping the assassin by the throat and lifting him effortlessly from his feet. Vain fought frantically against the grip, but his blows had no more effect than a feather against a mountain. Gradually he weakened and his struggles lessened. Sekiel scornfully threw him to the ground like a doll, leaving the assassin gasping for breath.
“Really, Dark Man, I thought you would have given us more sport. I’m not going to kill you just yet, though. Let me
introduce you to somebody you have something in common with. This is Bennael, another member of The Four. He also answers to ‘War’,” said Sekiel, pointing to one of the figures standing with him. The man he indicated wore a long black coat that did nothing to disguise the muscular frame beneath it. His hair burned fiery red in stark contrast to his pale skin. The only other color in his visage came from eyes – a deep crimson with no visible pupil.
“Bennael possesses the body of a man named Gustav, the supposed protector of the last Avun-Riah, who shot the girl, destroying Empeth’s incantations, thus delaying our master until this time. Gustav’s reward for his efforts was to have his soul shredded from his body. He wanders eternally in the blood-drenched halls of Sordarrah, his servant for all time. At least he put up a good fight, not like this petty tussle you’ve displayed. If you’re the best our enemies could find I almost pity them....”
“Anyway, Dark Man, I think I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Bennael. He hasn’t been able to have much fun since his re-incarnation and he seems a bit distressed of late. Do try to cheer him up won’t you. Goodbye, Dark Man, we won’t meet again,” finished Sekiel before turning away.
“Don’t count on it, boogieman,” rasped Vain through his damaged throat, “I’m not finished yet.”
“Yes you are. You’ve failed,” Sekiel commented without turning. The three figures strode down the deserted street, casually dragging the screaming Sebastian behind them, leaving the Dark Man to face Bennael alone.
Something inside Vain cracked at the sight of the boy shrieking. Slowly, he rose from the street and faced his opponent, wrath radiating from within him.
He would not fail again, not like before.
Bennael saw the look and laughed. “Well,” he said beneath a thick German accent, “perhaps there is more bite to you after all.”
Vain simply stood motionless and waited for his opponent to move. A sword materialized in Bennael’s right hand – right out of thin air! Vain tried desperately to visualize a way to defeat this demon. If he were anything like Sekiel, Vain knew he had little chance of surviving this encounter unless he out-thought his opponent.
9 More Killer Thrillers Page 109