by Mia Thompson
“How many have you killed?” Sapphire asked, afraid of the number she might hear.
Marco dropped the rope and went up to her, close to her face. “See, that’s where you have it wrong. I don’t kill; I free you of your sins so that God forgives you in the afterlife.”
“Really? So this has nothing to do with your father’s young mistresses who you feel split up your family?”
Marco went back to the ropes.
“Is it possible, Michael, that you are just a human being who went through something so traumatic that you decided to take on the role of an angel?”
“God wants you to be quiet!” Marco said, his face stern.
“Why would God want to forgive me in the afterlife if I’m the Anti-Christ? Shouldn’t I be going to hell? Am I the Anti-Christ or a regular sinner? I think you need to make up your mind.”
“You’re both. Be quiet.”
“What are you building?” Sapphire asked, though she had her suspicions.
Marco smiled.
* * * * *
“Yes, that’s him. Oh my God, isn’t he completely hot?”
Aston looked at Sapphire’s brain-dead friend wearing pajamas, slippers, and a green facemask. They were standing outside of her extravagant mansion. He counted to ten as he put the sketch back in the folder.
“He’s probably a deranged serial killer. His name is Quinn Wallace. Has Sapphire told you anything about him at all? Where he lives? What he does?” Aston asked as patient as possible.
“Um…nooo. I didn’t even know she was sleeping with people. Well, except you, obviously. Being her first.”
Aston shook his head; it was off subject and he didn’t want to waste anymore time. Every minute that passed could be Sapphire’s last. Yet, he had to know. “What do mean the first?”
Chrissy pinched her lips shut, indicating that she had unintentionally let something slip out.
“Um, first guy since her ex boyfriend, that’s all. So, she’s missing. Completely missing? As in ‘poof’…gone? What about her cell. Should I check it?”
Aston sighed, annoyed; he really didn’t have time to play second grade cop with Miss Fortune Five Hundred. “Yes, of course I tried her cell. She didn’t pick up; now it’s going straight to voicemail.”
He turned around to head back to his car, thinking about one thing only: Sapphire.
“No, I mean her app!” Chrissy shouted behind him.
“Her what?”
Chrissy jogged up to him and pulled up her cell phone. “I gave Saph the latest iPhone a few months back. Not that she appreciated it like usual. It’s like the whole pony thing all over again.”
“Is there a point to this?”
“Anyway, I, being a super awesome friend, loaded hers with all the apps. One of them was an app for connecting our iPhones. So that I could find her and she could find me if we got away from each other at the mall or something.” Chrissy pushed the phone into his face. She pointed at the screen and touched a few different buttons. “See, this line shows where she was. Downtown, off Wilshire.” She dragged her finger along a map, following the red line that displayed Sapphire’s route. Then the red line abruptly stopped on a smaller street farther into downtown L.A. “And then her phone got turned off at South Figueroa so that’s as far as we can see.”
Aston took the phone…no words necessary…and headed to his car.
“Um—you’re welcome!” Chrissy shouted behind him.
As he sped toward downtown, he called for other units to head toward Wilshire Boulevard. Sapphire hadn’t attempted to call anyone or use her phone at all, so she must have been unconscious. The perp must have pulled her out at their destination, found her phone, and shut it off. Which hopefully meant, that she was still in downtown L.A. somewhere around South Figueroa Street where the line on the map ended.
Aston took the freeway exit and stepped on the gas. He would get to her in time. He had to.
Chapter 19
When he was done, it was clear what Marco had been building: a cross. A wooden cross with rope tied to it to hold down her arms and legs. Then a noose was added.
“Again, if I’m the Anti-Christ, should I really be getting a Jesus type of death?” Sapphire asked, trying to prolong the process until she could somehow find a way out.
“It’s a symbol of why you died and for whom.” Marco bent down and grabbed the ropes that tied her to the ventilation system.
“So why the name Quinn Wallace; don’t you want people to know who you are, Michael?”
Marco frowned and began cutting the rope with his knife.
“That little bitch. I knew she’d rat me out. She never appreciated what I was trying to do for her. Nobody ever does. Either way, she was just meant to be a gift for you.”
He cut the rope loose and holding her by her wrist, led her to the cross neatly set up on the ground.
“Michael,” Sapphire suddenly said, her voice soft. “Thank you.”
Marco, or whatever his name actually was, stopped still holding her wrist tightly. He turned to her, surprised. “You’re…you’re welcome.”
“I really mean it. I appreciate what you’ve done for me. The gifts…” she nodded towards the cross. “This. Everything. I understand it now.”
“You do?” His voice was almost sweet, hopeful like a child’s.
“Yes, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to show you my appreciation.” Slowly, Sapphire let her lips search for his. Marco hesitated, and in that hesitation his grip loosened around her wrist. Just as Marco started to pull back from her kiss, she head butted him, right in the nose.
Dazed, Marco stumbled back a little; his hand let her wrists free and shot up towards his bleeding nose, protectively. Swiftly, Sapphire lifted her foot and sent it straight towards his stomach. Before it had even a chance to connect, Marco grabbed Sapphire’s foot and twisted it. She spun through the air and then tumbled to the ground, hitting the cement face first.
Sapphire rose to her feet as fast as she could and looked at Marco, spitting out a wad of iron-tasting blood from her mouth. Marco was angry; his eyes darkened and his expression was cold.
“Thou shall not tell lies! The devil himself is in you.” Slowly, his anger dissipated and a smirk grew on his face. “You know you could never beat me. Not then, not now. But go ahead; give me your best shot.” He wiped his nose free of blood with the back of his hand and gave her a challenging look.
Sapphire attacked and he blocked her every move. She attempted a butterfly kick, but he grabbed her leg and spun her around, pulling her entire body in his arms.
“It’s almost sad how hard you are trying right now,” he said and pushed her body away, smacking her back down onto the ground.
Sapphire coughed. The pain was excruciating, no doubt the fall broke at least two ribs.
“Aw, poor little Sapphire. You know, for being the Anti-Christ, you’re really not that bright. You actually believed we randomly ran into each other all those times. You even believed my puppy dog eyes.” He imitated his old self, softening his voice, making it sound nervous. “I…I just don’t want you to think I ask all my clients out.” His face returned to vicious. “Pathetic.”
Sapphire wheezed and squirmed on the ground, trying to get her breath back.
Marco laughed domineeringly. “Yet even after the gifts, you were so focused on finding me and watching what was in front of you that you forgot to look over your shoulder.”
She struggled to get back on her feet, holding back the one emotion that had been building: fear. The one thing Sapphire didn’t want to feel. The other core emotions were nothing, but fear, she hated.
She didn’t want to die hanging over the city on a cross, strangled. She didn’t want to die by the hands of the man who hurt Julia, tortured Shelly, and ended the lives of so many young women.
“I wouldn’t attack now if I were you; I can already tell you’re going off of emotion,” Marco said.
Sapphire held back her smile as her m
uddled thoughts grew clear. “Is that why you learned to fight—to hold back all that emotion?”
Marco scoffed and shook his head, but Sapphire continued.
“How did you feel when all those women destroyed your family? Or maybe it wasn’t the women. Maybe your father was just a cheating bastard and your mother wasn’t a good enough wife to keep him.”
Marco’s expression grew peculiar, but he just stood there shaking his head.
“Shut up,” he said calmly.
“Maybe your family wasn’t so perfect even before all the women. Maybe they had nothing to do with it at all.”
“They had everything to do with it. It was their fault! Their fault!”
“Whose fault?”
“Their fault!”
Marco attacked. Sapphire blocked the first two shots to the head, then grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and pulled his body downward. She sent a straight kick to his kneecap and Marco fell to the ground, letting out a scream.
“I get it now. You are such a good teacher,” Sapphire gloated, trying to hide the fact that her ribs were causing her horrendous pain. “I totally get it.”
He held his dislocated knee and curled into a fetal position. Sapphire bent down, out of his reach.
“So tell me, Michael,” she whispered. “If God is on your side, why are you the one on the ground?”
A lightning bolt cracked in the sky and struck alongside their building. The skyscraper shook and Sapphire lost her focus.
Marco kicked out his leg and hooked it up to hers. Sapphire slammed down on the ground for the third time in less than five minutes. This time she hit it with the back of her head and dark spots blurred her vision.
Marco grabbed her by the hair and held her in a chokehold. Limping, he dragged her across the roof, back to the cross.
“Do you believe me now?” Marco asked.
Though Sapphire struggled, Marco tied her body to the cross and moved it to the ledge.
* * * * *
Aston pulled over where the map trace had ended and looked around. There were eight main buildings around him. Searching them all would take time he didn’t have.
The rain was still pouring down, and Aston shivered in his wet clothes. He pulled out a sketch of the symbol that had been burned on Shelly McCormick and spun it around without any result. He held the drawing, stared at it, hoping for something to jump out at him, to make sense. He had searched all over the Internet, scanned it into the computer to try to find a match, but hadn’t gotten one. Aston looked at it again, tilting it to the side. It didn’t look complete. The reason it didn’t look complete was because it was only half of a symbol. One a religious fanatic would use.
He held the symbol up toward the Los Angeles Church of Angels. Above the cross, he matched his own half with the large church emblem constructed on the side of the building.
Aston pulled down the sketch and peered up at the never ending skyscraper, taller than any other building he’d ever set foot in, even before he got his fear of heights.
“Fuck me.”
* * * * *
Marco rested the cross on the edge with the help of a ladder. All Marco had to do was push it and she would fall down along with it and either snap her neck or suffocate to death.
Suddenly, the sound of a gospel singing Amazing Grace joined the patter of the rain. Sapphire turned her head as much as she could and saw Marco standing by a portable speaker hooked up to an iPod. His eyes were closed and he slowly sang along to the song. Sapphire squirmed around, trying to slither out of the ropes that held her to the cross.
Marco limped over, humming silently. He dropped the noose around her neck. The rope of the noose hung loosely from the cross.
“Sunday mass is coming in at dawn, which is in a couple of minutes. And what a sight they will come to,” he said, looking over at the horizon as if it held a secret that only he knew. “The Anti-Christ hung on a cross. I put the song on repeat so that they will all see it to the sweet sound of God.”
Sapphire panicked and pulled the ropes tied around her legs as hard as she could. She screamed in frustration and lay her head back down as the cold rain dampened her face.
“How sweet the sound…that saved a wretch like me,” Marco sang, looking down at Sapphire. “It’s time.”
“No…wait!” Sapphire yelled, but Marco might as well have been deaf. The look in his eyes told her he was on a path and there was nothing that would tear him away from it.
He took the top edge of the cross and pushed it toward the ledge drawing Sapphire closer and closer. Panic was no longer a good enough word. The feeling consumed her and she could feel her whole body shutting down. Little by little.
The rope was rubbing her wrists raw and every fiber of her being was spinning, trying to figure out a way to escape.
Marco stopped and brought up a knife from a tool strap and waved it over her. “The last detail,” he said, motioning it toward her. “I had it sharpened just for you.”
He grabbed her open palm and before Sapphire could react, he jammed the knife in, penetrating her flesh.
Sapphire screamed in anger and pain. He smiled at her and then moved around to her other hand.
“Look at you, so weak. That’s what you all are, weak. All you have to offer the world is sinful pleasure and fornication.”
“Then why train women to be able to defend themselves before you kill them? Is this really what you want, Michael, or do you want somebody to stop you before you kill again?”
Marco stared at her, wondrous. “Why would I want someone to stop me? God…God sent me to do this.”
“Maybe you’re not an angel; maybe you’re just an angry boy whose family was taken away from him. Nobody is ordering you to do this. You have a choice; it’s not written in stone.”
Marco stood, unable to move, holding the knife tightly in his hands. Sapphire couldn’t tell if his eyes were tearing or if it was the rain, but she knew what was taking place in front of her was a person struggling with his demon. He was breaking.
“Give yourself a chance to live. To have a family of your own. You can do it right. Make it all right again.”
“Give me a sign,” Marco whispered. “Give me a sign.”
At that moment, the rain stopped and the low grumble of the thunder subsided. The light of the sunrise broke through from beyond the horizon and Marco smiled at peace. He looked down at her.
“And so, the Devil tempted Jesus with the kingdom of having the world when he was at his worst. Jesus said, be gone Lucifer for I serve only God,” Marco said in a trance.
“Fuck,” Sapphire said and clenched her fist shut. Marco looked at her and shook his head.
“Jesus did it for you; why can’t you do it for him?”
“Jesus? The guy who supposedly said turn the other cheek? You should try to follow in his footsteps.”
Sapphire looked at Marco who was waiting for her to open her palm. She lay her head down on the board and exhaled, defeated. She put her arm down and let it rest fully on the board, giving up. “Okay. Go ahead.” She opened up her palm.
Marco raised the knife and lowered it in the same straight motion. A split second before the blade hit her skin, Sapphire retracted her hand, and the blade went through the wood. She quickly grabbed the handle, taking advantage of his momentary confusion.
She spun the knife around in her hand and stabbed him the only place she could reach, his arm. Twice. Marco screamed and grabbed his arm as Sapphire twisted the knife’s blade toward her arm and stuck it underneath the rope.
Marco had done a good job. The knife was so sharp she could cut the rope in two swift moves. When Marco reached for her, she used her free hand to punch him hard in the solar plexus with the edge of the knife, just like he had taught her a few weeks back. Marco gasped for air and Sapphire hurried to slice off the other ropes. She leaped off the boards and just as she was about to remove the noose that still hung around her neck a door flung open. Sapphire turned her hea
d and Marco grabbed the knife out of her hand.
“Drop the knife. Let me see your hands!”
Sapphire and Marco watched as Aston slowly stepped out onto the roof pointing his gun at Marco. His eyes, however, didn’t quite seem like their old cocky self. They kept wandering from Marco and nervously over to the edges.
Marco put up his hands and looked over at Sapphire.
“Officer, I know this looks odd, but you have to understand. She is no regular girl,” Marco said in a hypnotic voice. “She is the Anti-Christ.”
“And I’m Jesus,” Aston said.
“Really?” Marco said, eyes big.
“No not really!” Aston spat, then looked at Sapphire. “What’s wrong with this fucking guy?” He cocked his gun. “Get down on your knees.”
Amazing Grace stopped for a second and Marco bent down. Then the song repeated and Marco stood back up and spun his body in the air. He kicked Sapphire right in the stomach and her body flew back over the edge. She heard two shots and felt something she had felt a hundred times before…the feeling of being in a dream and falling. The rush of air combined with the gaping hole in her stomach as gravity pulled her down. Except this time was different. This time she wasn’t dreaming. This time she wouldn’t wake up before she died.
The second before the rope on her neck snapped back felt like an eternity. When it happened, the rope cut off her air instantly. Sapphire’s fingers clawed at her own skin to get under the rope. Her lungs were hurting, aching for oxygen. She kicked, though she knew it would do no good, and she tried to loosen the rope, though she knew if she did, she’d fall to a certain death.
She became numb. She could hear her mouth gasping for air, but she couldn’t feel it. She could see her legs kicking from underneath her, but it wasn’t her doing. Her body was no longer hers. The last thing she saw was the sun rise up behind the hills. At first, it was small and far away. Then it crept closer and closer until the orange light surrounded her and everything else stopped existing. All she knew was warmth and peace.
* * * * *