by Matt Drabble
“Superintendent, Detective Inspector McCullum for you Sir” filtered through the voice of his secretary
“Send him in Mary”, Irving dispensed with his usual tricks and walked around the desk to greet the Inspector, this was a man with whom he shared many things and he had no need for falsehoods here, the time had come for a full disclosure.
McCullum entered the office, he was distracted by his own mission and did not wish to waste his time here, he had a lead on a death in Port Talbot and wanted nothing more than to travel at full speed to investigate any traces of Baine, and more importantly, his father was waiting. He was surprised to find Irving had risen to greet him, normally the Superintendent would be found upon his throne in a supercilious effort of dominance.
“Brendon, come in, come in” Irving greeted him, “It’s good to see you son” he offered a warm handshake confusing McCullum further
“Thank you Sir” McCullum had always felt a friendly manner emanating from his boss but this approach felt strange and inappropriate
Irving led him to an expensive looking leather sofa residing under the large window, “Sit, sit” he ushered
McCullum sat beside his superior unsure as to the mans motives, as far as he knew Irving wasn’t married and the thought of an approach of a sexual nature did pass through his already crowded mind, he really had no time for any of this,
“Was there something that you wanted Sir, only I’m really quite busy” McCullum knew that he automatically changed his vocabulary and speech patterns depending on the company, one persona for the dreaded pub and its working class alcohol culture and quite another to suit his highly educated upper class bosses who sat amidst their private clubs sipping cognac and discussing back nines, it was one of his secret self loathing’s.
“Brendon” Irving laid a manicured hand upon McCullums knee, “We have much in common and the time has now arrived in which to facilitate the transition of our relationship to another level”
McCullum instantly pulled away, it was not the approach that dismayed
him merely the unnecessary wasting of his time,
“Superintendent, I really don’t think that, I mean this is rather inappropriate” he stumbled unsure just how to extricate himself from the time consuming situation, he was surprised to see that Irving’s reaction was one of hilarity
“Brendon, Brendon” he laughed, “I can assure that my intentions are completely honourable” he dabbed at his now running eyes with a pristine linen hankerchief, he rolled up the left sleeve of a luxuriously tailored blue suit revealing a smooth forearm, he passed his right hand over the exposed skin, slowly a small tattoo began to show, McCullum should not have known what the symbol meant but all the same he did, it read 11th Order.
“A present from your father Brendon” he placed a hand on McCullums shoulder, “We are one here child, now tell me, how do we find the betrayer Baine?”
The bar was small and dank, this was an establishment that required little more than alcohol and a dry spot to drink it, the stench of stale sweat and depression hung heavy on the yellowed walls. An aged stripper cavorted tiredly on a small wooden stage mainly oblivious to the clientele, her face held a fixed gaze that hinted at a chemically induced demeanour, her sagging flesh spilled over a well worn sequined g-string that like its occupier had seen better days.
Gabriel sat transfixed at the end of the bar, his face salivating greedily as he sank in all of the sensory assaults thrown his relatively innocent way, he was downing vodka shots like water and feeling a strange but rather pleasant tightening of his trouser region. Ever since he had inhabited this human form he had struggled against its baser instincts, feeling disgusted at the forms need for consumptions and a terrifying need for sudden bowel excavation that had him vomiting out of both ends. Slowly he had been able to exert control over the emotions that had raged throughout his body, he had begun to realise that not everything on this mortal coil was to be feared and despised, food began to take on an array of fantastic smells and textures, some cooked flesh set his mouth dripping in anticipation and some churned his stomach and emptied it rapidly in a runny brown river. He had also began to notice the female forms that passed him on the street as he moved about during his business, he felt confused over his desires, he had no idea about the power of the female form, he did not know what this body should want to do but he wanted to tear at their flesh with his bare hands and rip their skin with his teeth bathing in the crimson tide. These thoughts had begun to sink through his consciousness making it increasingly hard to function within the parameters of the mission. He had already withdrawn from contact with their human converts as he feared that the temptations would become too great and it was more and more difficult to keep his thoughts from Michael and Raphael who seemed to have a much firmer handle on their behaviour. He was starting to slip away from the Order, spending more and more time on his own fighting to maintain his grip on himself, and yet here he sat transfixed by a sagging woman gyrating with little interest, the liquid that he consumed was buzzing around his brain relaxing his form and convincing himself that he should indulge his darkness. Gabriel cast a look around, there were now only two other customers, one barman and the stripper left in the bar as the night grew long, a man in his fifties to his right stood and staggered towards the stench of the toilets, he brushed past Gabriel causing his drink to spill into his lap, he felt a sudden dangerous surge of white hot anger fill his veins and aided by the strong alcohol it clouded his already strained judgement.
“Motherfucker” Gabriel screamed repeated an insult that he had observed from the city centre, he reached out and snatched the grey haired man by the throat
“Ssssorry” the man stuttered drunkenly, “But why don’t you watch where I’m going” he laughed heartily, unaware of the fuel that he was heaping into the furnace
“Easy big fella” the barman intervened, “Jasper don’t mean any harm, do you, you drunken old sod” the barman laid an unwise hand on Gabriel’s shoulder in an act of diffusion, “Why don’t you let me get another one for you, lets make it a double” he readdressed Gabriel
Gabriel felt a low contempt for the barman’s pathetic pleading tone; he reached up and grabbed his wrist whilst easily maintaining his grip on a now struggling Jasper,
“I’ve got a better idea” he spat and wrenched the barman’s hand upward in a smooth savage motion, the bones cracked and splintered as he crushed and grinded the mans fingers together and continued to push the hand backwards until the fingernails lay flush against the forearm.
The barman screamed and sank to the floor behind the bar, Jasper’s brain had slowly kicked into gear as the scene unfolded in front of him, Gabriel rose and stood lifting the older man off of the floor one handedly whilst Jasper’s legs kicked out uselessly at his knees. Gabriel brought the man in close to his face so that they were nose to nose, he slowly squeezed his hand around Jasper’s throat, his fingers began to dig into the skin and crush the windpipe and he stared intently into the dying mans eyes watching mesmerised as the light faded with the lose of life. Gabriel was now rolling and no force on earth would be able to stop his unleashed fury, the remaining customer was sat rigidly staring at him from across the room whilst the stripper still danced on obliviously and the barman whimpered. Gabriel bounded across the stained carpet excitedly, the man sat bolt upright and rooted to the spot in terror, Gabriel took hold of the man’s head between his long and powerful outstretched fingers and began to force his hands together. The man began to flail about as the pressure increased, Gabriel exerted his strength, the man shook violently as blood seeped through his eyes and ears and out of his nose, his head suddenly caved in on both sides as his eyeballs popped and the grey brain matter leaked through the cracked pieces, Gabriel sucked the juice from his fingers and turned back to the barman who had now crawled around the bar and was creeping towards the exit. Gabriel circled the barman who looked stronger and fitter than his other two victims, Gabriel raised his foot
over the mans head as he crawled and brought it down hard in a stamping motion, the force of the blow caused an immediate and disappointing cessation of movement. Gabriel sauntered over to the small stage and the chemically distant woman, as he drew close she began to see his blood streaked face lined with evil intentions, slow realisation dawned through her drug addled mind too late as Gabriel leapt upon her, tearing viciously with nails and teeth as he finally set free his burgeoning dark desires and buried himself in her fragile flesh.
CHAPTER VIII
ON LOCATION
“I have come to bring fire on the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! But I have a baptism to undergo, and how distressed I am until it is completed! Do you think I came to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but division. From now on there will be five in one family divided against each other, three against two and two against three. They will be divided, father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law”
Luke 12:49-53
St David’s is considered to be the smallest city in the UK, Baine read in the literature that he had found on the internet at the guest house in Port Talbot and subsequently printed off, apparently it was named after a man born on a cliff top near Capel Non on the South West Wales coast during a raging storm. Supposedly both of his parents were descended from Welsh royalty. He was the son of Sandde, Prince of Powys, and Non, daughter of a chieftain of Menevia which was now known as St David's. The site of David’s birth is marked by the ruins of a tiny ancient chapel close to a holy well and there was a more recently constructed chapel dedicated, in medieval times it was actually believed that St David was the nephew of King Arthur. David grew up to be a priest and after being educated at the monastery of Hen Fynyw under the tutorage of St. Paulinus according to legend David performed several miracles during his life including restoring Paulinus' sight. It is also said that during a battle against the Saxons, David advised his soldiers to wear leeks in their hats so that they could easily be distinguished from their enemies, which is why the leek is one of the emblems of Wales. David became a missionary and travelled throughout Wales and Britain and even made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem where he was consecrated bishop, upon his return he founded 12 monasteries including Glastonbury and one at Minevia which he made his bishops seat. St David was said to have died on 1 March 589A.D. at Minevia, allegedly over 100 years old his remains were buried in a shrine in the 6th century cathedral which was ransacked in the 11th century by Viking invaders, who plundered the site and murdered two Welsh bishops. All of the research seemed to suggest that it was unclear just how much of this information was based in actual facts and how much was actually myths and legends, one thing that was clearly true was that in 1996 bones were discovered in the Cathedral and speculation was rife that they were the remains of St David himself. Baine read all of this with interest, he had surprised himself with a growing interest in history as he discovered more and more about his own past and that of his family, his brother had directed him to the cathedral but had not been specific as to the reason why, the place was obviously steeped in mythical history which fit the profile of this developing story. He was now parked in a small National Trust car park at the top of the city which seemed to consist of one main street lined with a handful of shops with the great Cathedral lying in a basin below, the day was now growing into its stride and visitors were arriving in numbers even at this time of year. Baine found himself annoyingly bombarded by friendly greetings as sensibly coated walkers eagerly debarked their cars and coaches and headed down the hill. His normal short fuse seemed to be dimming, his general anger had dwindled and what was left seemed to be held easily in check with memories of his dancer. He played that scene on a continuous loop through his mind, every gentle skirt swirl and spin calmed his thoughts and cooled his temper, perhaps there was a place for him in this world and amongst these sheep after all. The day was barely awake and the wind was gathering pace whipping the light rain heavily into faces stinging eyes and lashing faces, armed with thoughts of her the water ran harmlessly from his warmed face. Baine had no choice but to attach himself to the chattering masses as they descended into the holy city, whatever lay in his path at the cathedral was unknown, un-trusted and more than likely un-welcome but after he had come this far, what the fuck.
Azazel watched Lucifer’s glowing form as she emerged from the steaming shower, her impossibly firm yet supple body glistened with moisture as she towelled herself dry, despite his appetite for human women he felt no physical attraction as he had witnessed her true form first hand and it was far from lust-worthy. She primped and primed herself in the full length mirror, of the many sins available on this plane she had been cast fully into the pits of vanity; her excessive wardrobe bulged at the seams laden with expensive clothing and a shoe collection that defied belief, he had yet to see her in the same outfit twice. He watched from a distance as he was not bringing her news that would please. Despite all of their resources they had lost track of Baine, unbelievably he had managed to disappear from sight taking the book with him and no doubt stealing a march on the quest for the Cube, the Grigori had to be there when Baine took the Cube, as it could only be retrieved from its resting place by his hands alone. The stories of the Cube’s power were now the subject of myths and legends; it had been so very long since the angels had ruled the world and much of their assertions concerning Metatron’s Cube remained to be seen. Azazel was un-convinced as to the abilities that were to be gained from the prize, he knew that Lucifer and Gabriel had absolute faith in the Cube; they both saw it as the capability to change the world to their very different ideals. Azazel however was increasingly indifferent to this holy grail quest, he saw that the world had already caved in on itself to a certain degree, the earth was already awash with pain and suffering, it was a platter to wet his sinful appetites, the Grigori already held companies of great financial wealth that funded a lifestyle of gratuitous excess, their followers sat upon boards of industry as well as political seats of power, Lucifer’s fanatical desire for the Cube had already threatened to destabilise everything that they had achieved. Azazel knew only too well as to Samyaza’s intentions, he was excessively vocal on his ambitions and the failings of Lucifer, Samyaza only thoughts of the Cube were as to its possible power and what that could offer him whilst Lucifer’s fanatical religious obsession seemed to blot out all reason from her thinking, he knew that there was a power struggle coming over the horizon between the two of them and he would only have to wait within the shadows for the right time to make his move and scoop up the broken pieces.
McCullum waded through the reports, Superintendent Irving had cleared his way through the red tape allowing him to gain access to all of the information gathered about the murder in Port Talbot, and he ignored the bitter stares of the investigating team who were clearly annoyed at his very presence in their offices. He had quickly gotten over his shock at Irving’s revelations as it now seemed foolish in the extreme to believe that Gabriel’s influence would not have extended as far and wide as he required without effort. The early reports suggested that the cause of death was from massive trauma inflicted by an unknown assailant possibly animal in nature as indicated by the size, shape and depth of the wounds inflicted; McCullum knew instinctively that this was the work of a Reaper. After his meeting with Gabriel he felt stronger and sharper than ever before, the usual aches and pains in this insufferable dank weather had retreated and he felt as though he was eighteen again with the energy and vitality of an athlete. It would appear that the Grigori were hot on Baines trail which put them ahead of the game, McCullum could not be sure that Baine had not been either killed or taken by the Reaper, but yet somehow he did. He had walked through the crime scene alone much to the irritation of the investigating officers, he had closed his eyes and he could suddenly see the past, it ran through his mind in a strange green light as though he was loo
king through a pair of infra red goggles, he could see the poor landlord, he could see the Reaper and for the first time he could see Baine. He had to admit to himself that he was somewhat disappointed, Baine appeared to be just a man, he had built him into some mythical creature, brawn of stature astride the world, yet here he was an ordinary and unremarkable man, shorter and narrower than himself. Suddenly the green movie sprang into violent action, McCullum found his first disappointing impression erased as Baine moved with impressive speed and agility coupled with remarkable strength, the sheer suddenness that he had been able to despatch the Reaper demanded respect. McCullum was finding himself warming to the man when he watched Baine standing over the dead landlord smiling at the mans demise, the cruelness of his stare and the delight in his eyes caused a painful stab of anger deep in his gut, his father was right about the betrayer and he cursed himself for ever forgetting. McCullum was sat at an empty and unused desk amidst the working detectives whispering and nudging each other like schoolboys,