9 More Killer Thrillers

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9 More Killer Thrillers Page 118

by Russell Blake


  “Are you trying to convert me?” asked Vain coldly. “You might as well give up now, because your God gave up on me on the day he took my daughter and wife. Tore away their lives like so much scrap paper, so I think you’d better save your speeches for somebody who wants to be saved. I chose my path on that day and I will follow it to the end, no matter where it leads me.”

  Gabriel sat silently, peering intently at the Dark Man. “Do you realize that you just called them your wife and daughter?” he asked softly. “I thought you had destroyed Martin Roberts when you took over his body. If that were the case why do you care about his family?”

  “I....” began Vain, but then he stopped, contemplating what he had just said. He rose slowly to his feet. “Damn you! You’re just trying to confuse me like that black bastard, Priest. Just remember one thing, angel-boy, remember how he ended up.”

  “I know,” said Gabriel with a deep look of sorrow upon his face. “He lost his soul trying to protect you and the Avun-Riah. Do you think he knew the meaning of life?”

  With a frustrated curse, Vain withdrew from the apartment and out into the night.

  * * * *

  Vain stormed down the street, his mind lost in a torrent of senseless rage. He paid no heed to his direction; his thoughts were consumed with what Gabriel had tried to tell him. The worst part of it all was that Vain could see the sense in what the archangel had been saying. He grasped the meaning in the philosophy, but it only served to emphasize the wrongs that Vain had committed in his own life.

  He had never cared for life, his own or anyone else's. Death encapsulated all the Dark Man knew, and he knew it intimately. The memories were not his, he should not have cared about Angelique and Catherine, but walking down the dim street he found that he did care. Their lives had been torn away from the man he had once been. Their deaths had created the Dark Man, and in doing so condemned so many others to their own demise at the hands of the merciless assassin he had become.

  “I have every right to be angry,” he muttered to himself.

  “Of course you do,” said a voice from in front of him.

  Vain looked up. A large youth with several other young men standing behind him had appeared – a street gang – intent on mugging him. Cursing inwardly at his lapse in judgment, Vain glared mercilessly at the leader of the gang. “Boy, you’ve picked the wrong guy to try this on,” he warned.

  The large youth paused, momentarily shaken by the look in the Dark Man’s eyes, and took a step back, right into the boy standing behind him. Unwilling to show fear in front of his followers, he adopted a mocking grin and sneered theatrically, “Ooh, scary.”

  “I can smell your fear, boy,” whispered Vain.

  * * * *

  The gang waited, unsure of how to proceed. They knew the rules of this game; they had played it out many times before. The victim either ran away or fought back, they never simply stood still. This was a new development, and they were unwilling to attack without something to initiate their emotions, be it fear or anger. The man before them appeared so calm, so confident, that they began to inch back from where he stood so casually.

  Tony, their leader, saw this and anger flared within him. If he didn’t muster something quickly, he’d lose everyone’s respect, and none would ever follow him again.

  Scared of one old guy in his own street, he’d be too embarrassed to show his face.

  Tony reached into his jacket for the revolver he’d tucked into his waistband and froze. It seemed like every muscle in his arm had suddenly cramped so tightly that his tendons were about to shred. An involuntary hiss of pain escaped his lips, and he cried out as the pressure increased. His gang members stood by, staring in horror while their leader convulsed in anguish.

  “You had your chance, boy,” sneered the man. “Time to pay the price.”

  Tony felt tendrils of ice clawing around his heart and his chest started to tighten.

  “Please!” yelled Mikey, Tony’s little brother, joining them for the first time tonight. The younger boy took a few tentative steps toward the man while the rest of the gang fled. “Please don’t kill him, mister, he wasn’t gonna hurt ya, the gun isn’t even loaded. We just need the money for momma, she’s dying. She’s got cancer.”

  Tony managed to glance quickly at the man and saw his expression soften slightly. The tightening in his chest and arm abruptly stopped, and he fell limply to the pavement. When he awoke, he found the man squatting in front of him, examining his chest with a concerned expression. Seeing Tony now awake he grunted, “You’ll live.”

  “What did you do to me?” wheezed Tony. “It felt like you were crushing my heart.”

  “I was,” said the man coldly. “Now go home. And take my advice, leave your friends, they bring out the worst in you.”

  Tony tried to rise once more, but fell back to the footpath. “My legs won’t work,” he gasped.

  With a curse, the man lifted him easily to his feet, while Mikey moved along his other side, trying valiantly to help his brother home.

  * * * *

  Vain didn’t know why he hadn’t killed the boy; Christ knew he deserved it. But when the little kid had run forward and everybody else fled, Vain had felt a tiny stab of pity for the two brothers. Gabriel’s speech still echoed within his mind, and he saw in that moment the truth behind the angel’s words. These boys were out in the streets trying to stay alive. They weren’t doing it for fun or thrills like some of the other boys undoubtedly were; rather they were trying to get enough money to help their sick mother.

  Vain flicked a glance at the boy he now carried. Large for his age, he still couldn’t have been over fourteen; the younger one would have been lucky to have reached eleven. Too young to know so much about the pain of life and death.

  The trio finally arrived at what passed for the boys’ home – a building almost as dilapidated as Vain’s own apartment block. They climbed the crumbling staircase to the third floor, and the older boy, who Vain now knew to be Tony, fumbled in his pocket until finally producing a tarnished key, which Vain took and unlocked the door with.

  The three moved inside, Vain half dragging Tony to the lounge where he crumpled feebly. The younger boy closed the door behind them and moved toward his brother.

  “No, Mikey, I’m okay,” said Tony softly. “Go and check on mom.”

  “Okay, Tony.” The younger boy moved to the only other door in the apartment and opened it, quietly stepping inside.

  Vain looked back down to where Tony lay on the lounge and saw the boy had again passed out. Remembering Gabriel’s words about the potential uses of the Glimloche, Vain sat beside him and honed his concentration before looking into the boy’s chest using the power within him. He’d never attempted this before and felt unsure how it would end; he hoped the boy’s chest didn’t explode in a bloody mess.

  Gradually the view he was trying to obtain came clearer, and he could almost see through the boy’s chest like an x-ray. Although his heart continued pumping, its rhythm seemed erratic. Blood squirted from one side of the organ, splashing the outside wall of his right lung.

  Cursing, Vain honed his concentration further and, on impulse, tried to seal the minute hole that lay in the side of the boy’s heart. This required more skill than Vain had ever needed from the Glimloche. He failed to seal the hole on the first try, but managed to succeed on the second. Methodically, he checked each of the other organs in the boy’s chest before gently sending a pulsing flow of energy into the heart, settling its erratic beat.

  Vain withdrew his power from the boy and gazed down. Tony’s breathing had steadied, his color slowly returning to normal. He appeared now to be merely in a deep sleep. Vain sighed softly and stood, walking across the room to where the bedroom lay. The assassin heard sobbing coming from within the room. Quietly, he crossed the small space to where the boy Mikey kneeled beside what Vain at first thought to be the corpse of a woman. Only when he noticed the scant rising of her chest did the Dark Man realize t
he woman still lived. Curious about his new-found healing powers, he plunged himself into the woman’s disease-ridden husk.

  Immediately Vain was attacked by the cancer that dwelled within the woman. Surging his power through her body, he sought out and destroyed the cancer cells wherever he found them, but just when he felt he might be winning the fight, the woman’s heart fluttered, then gave out.

  NO! he roared mentally, and sent a surging burst of dark flame through the woman’s veins and into her heart, restarting it with an abrupt jolt. Quickly, he returned his attention to the cancer cells that seemed to have trebled in their ferocity, sensing they were under attack. Almost as swiftly as he could destroy them, cancers appeared in other areas of her body. Once he thought the lungs were purged of infection, he sensed the cells swelling inside her lymph glands. Again and again he had to return to areas he thought were clear in order to fight off the disease.

  After almost an hour, Vain finally returned to his own body – exhausted. The boys’ mother was now free of the cancer, her breathing becoming steadily deeper, her flesh less sallow. The woman’s face lost the look of anguish that had tormented it and now wore an expression of great peace.

  Little Mikey stared at the transformation, unable to comprehend what had just occurred. “What happened to mommy?” he asked Vain. “She looks wonderful!”

  “Your mom’s okay now, kid, don’t worry.”

  “How did you do that? Are you an angel?”

  Vain felt uncomfortable under the young boy’s scrutiny and glanced away. A thought occurred to him and he said quickly, “I have to go and get something. I’ll be back soon, okay?” Mikey nodded, and Vain moved swiftly from the apartment.

  The assassin soon returned to the boys’ home with a large briefcase. He’d left it in a long-term storage locker in the event trouble ever arose and he couldn’t access his own apartment.

  Tony was now awake and full of questions about his mother’s recovery, but Vain waved them away. Placing the briefcase upon the table, the Dark Man turned back to where Tony stood.

  “This is for you and your family. Make good use of it, and look after your mom and brother. And one more thing, get away from that mob you’ve been hanging around – only a coward needs a gang for courage, okay?” Tony nodded silently, and without a word of farewell Vain turned and departed the apartment.

  “Hey, Tony,” called Mikey, examining the briefcase. “Who’s Guido Bucelli?”

  “Why?”

  “Because this has his name on it,” he said, flipping open the locks and lifting the lid....

  * * * *

  Vain walked from the building shaking his head, unable to believe what had just happened. Attacked by a group of hoods intent on robbing him, instead of killing them as his instincts had screamed, he’d helped two of them home, healing one, then curing their mother of inoperable cancer. To top it all off, he had given them a briefcase containing two million dollars!

  Idiot!

  First Priest, then Sebastian, and now Gabriel. One by one they had managed to make the Dark Man reconsider his ethics. Now he found himself at the point where he’d begun helping people in need. Looking back at his life before meeting these people, the Vain of old would never have allowed the boy to live tonight, let alone help his family and donate a small fortune in cash!

  Who was he, Santa Clause? Maybe he should put on a cape and tights and fly around the city, solving crimes and saving kittens.

  Stupidity!

  Eventually arriving back at his own apartment, Vain hesitated at the door. He didn’t want any more words of wisdom from Gabriel to make him question his existence.

  “I don’t want to be anything else,” he whispered to himself. “I am Vain, nothing else matters.” But the words did nothing to ease the anxiety roiling within his mind. He had always been so sure of himself before, what was happening to him?

  Vain entered the apartment with his expression set in stone. Gabriel still sat at the table, as though he hadn’t moved. He turned to look at Vain and smiled with genuine pleasure.

  “I am glad you have returned safely,” he said. “For a while there I worried you might have been mugged by some street kids.”

  Whether his words were merely coincidence or some ethereal power, Vain didn’t care. He ignored the comment and moved toward his mattress. The healing of the boy Tony and his mother had drained Vain more than he liked to admit, and he felt an urgent need for rest.

  Just as he was falling asleep, Gabriel said, “I am very proud of what you did tonight, Dark Man, and I am sorry for how I made you feel earlier.”

  Vain glanced up at his companion and frowned. “Just don’t get too used to it. I’m not what you think I am. I’m nobody’s hero. I am simply me. Vain. And that’s all I want to be.”

  “Perhaps,” whispered Gabriel. “We shall wait and see.”

  Cursing quietly, Vain rolled over and drifted off into sleep.

  * * * *

  The roaring of surf broke Vain’s slumber. Rising through the fogginess of sleep, he sat up. Golden sand stretched to the horizon, sculpted by the waves curling and crashing against the shore. He stood, seemingly alone, the sound of the surf his only companion.

  “Do you enjoy this image, Vain?” asked a voice from behind him.

  Spinning around, the assassin saw the old woman who had called herself Xamiel. The same woman who had later revealed herself as Satan.

  “What do you want, you old hag?” hissed Vain.

  A shimmer of annoyance flashed across Xamiel’s brow. “How disappointing. Perhaps I want nothing, maybe I am merely lonely. You have no idea how tedious eternity can be when locked in this perpetual land of no life. I can create anything I want, but it will never live the way you do. It will not breathe or grow unless I make it.”

  “What do you want?”

  Xamiel’s appearance shimmered and changed. Before Vain now stood a man in his mid-twenties, with shoulder-length brown hair crowning a face of incredible magnificence. Dressed casually in a light blue silk shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows and tails flapping loosely outside a pair of cream-colored slacks, he casually strolled barefoot to where Vain stood by the water and smiled dazzlingly at the assassin. Only the eyes didn’t change. Dark orbs, they still held the deep well of power that Vain had seen the first time they met.

  “Very pretty, Xamiel, but it still doesn’t answer my question,” growled Vain.

  “Please, call me Lucifer.”

  “Fine, Lucifer. Now what do you fucking want?”

  “Very well, I shall get to my point earlier than I had intended. Gabriel is going to betray you.”

  “Oh really,” mocked Vain.

  “Yes really, you ignorant little man,” snapped Lucifer, his cloak of beatitude momentarily slipping. Realizing the lapse almost immediately, his mask slid smoothly back into place and he smiled gently.

  “Why?” inquired Vain.

  “Why what?”

  “Why would he betray me? What does he have to gain?”

  “Who knows?” mused Lucifer vaguely. “Perhaps he wants to conquer the realm of Earth for himself. Maybe he’s grown sick of playing second-fiddle to his so-called God. I did, why shouldn’t he? The point is: he will try to deceive you when you go to the house. You should destroy him immediately.”

  “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I’ve already tried.”

  “That was before you knew how to use the Glimloche’s powers. You could erase him from existence with a mere thought now.”

  “How do you know what’s been going on up there?” asked Vain. “From what I can tell, you have no way of interacting with the human realm; otherwise you’d be causing all sorts of havoc.”

  “You misjudge me, Dark Man,” smiled Lucifer smoothly. “I am not the source of evil I have been made out to be. History is written by the victors and, as you know, I did not win. For all you know, this God who everyone claims is so wonderful and benevolent could be the real evil in the cosmos. After all, didn�
��t he take your wife and daughter from you? Does that seem like the work of a holy being?

  “Doesn’t the Bible tell of the wrath of God against the Egyptians, killing the first-born child of every house? The being who calls itself Gabriel is the one who did this! He is the Angel of Death for a God who hates mankind! It wasn’t until that incredible publicist named Jesus Christ emerged on the scene that everyone started thinking God was this compassionate father who looked after mankind. If that’s the case, why are wars being waged throughout the world? Millions being slaughtered every day from famine and disease? Where is your God now?”

  “He is not my God,” responded Vain unemotionally.

  A look of victory crossed Lucifer’s face. “Then why do you manage his tasks for him? If he is so powerful, why does he not smite down the followers of Sordarrah, and lift the boy up into the heavens? Why do you run and play fetch when he commands it? Are you merely an errand boy for this God who cares nothing for you?”

  The assassin’s cold gaze hardened. “I am nobody’s errand boy.”

  “Prove it! Destroy the archangel and join me. Together we will be unstoppable. We shall rule the universe side by side.”

  Vain stood silently for a moment, feeling the sand between his toes, and listening to the crashing of the surf upon the shore. “You forgot something,” he whispered.

  Lucifer looked to the assassin quizzically. “What?”

  “There is no breeze.” Lucifer smiled and was about to say something when Vain added, “And the boy, you forgot about the boy. What happens to him?”

  “The boy is inconsequential,” cooed Lucifer persuasively. “Together we will be able to destroy Sordarrah and his minions, and cast God from the very heavens.”

  “It is said,” began Vain, his voice suddenly turning to ice, “that you are the Prince of Lies. I see now that you are also the Prince of Fools. The universe means nothing to me. God means nothing to me. The only thing that matters to me is the boy. Goodbye, Lucifer. If we meet again I shall try my very best to destroy you.”

 

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