by Matt Drabble
“You know I may be five feet away from you guys but sound does actually travel through the air now, read a book once in a while you fucking mugs and you might learn something” McCullum said this aloud whilst never looking up from the paperwork that he poured over, the noises stopped and the silence was packed with tension which McCullum ignored effortlessly, he was now above these creatures. The last reel of guest house movie had shown Baine searching the internet and printing off some literature, McCullum had checked the computers search history, there were several medical sites, some insurance sites and a search for St Davids and its cathedral history, McCullum checked for a google map printed off directions and headed out, he had his trail and he followed his prey.
Lucifer stared out of the window as the countryside blurred by, for all of their abilities it was still sordidly embarrassing to have to rely on vehicular conveyance as a means of transport, if their pawns could see them now then it shatter the carefully constructed cloak of superiority that she wore so vainly. They had travelled through the heavens and across the mortal world shaking mortal men to their very core with exhibitions of power and strength and yet here the Grigori sat doing sixty five miles an hour in the back of a seven seater Toyota Verso procured for the journey. She had begun to feel increasingly frustrated and angry, impatience radiated through her pores and she felt herself beginning to relish the onset of a sensation regardless of whether it was positive or negative, all of these emotions had started to trickle through to her subconscious mind prying at the vaults once impregnable edges. They had exchanged these meat suits on a regular basis over the centuries but for some inexplicable reason she had been unable to give up this present form, she knew that Samyaza and Azazel were suspicious of her actions but just could not break the hold that this body held for her, for the first time in her existence she had begun to touch the edges of free will. Their cause had drawn followers from around the world in all areas that were of use to them, one of these such agents had alerted them to Gabriel’s plans and his usage of the man called McCullum, it was always necessary to submit to subterfuge tactics when attempting to intercept your opponents tactics and she was always watchful for treachery amidst her own ranks. She looked around the people carriers interior, Samyaza was burning with impatience momentarily appeased at their forward momentum whilst Azazel had taken his own path to their destination, he had always been an enigma to even her acute senses, he sat separately, away from the her plans and yet fulfilling his duties without question but always seemingly keeping his own council tightly. Neither the 11th Order nor the Grigori could afford Baines death until he held the Cube in his hands having plucked it from the earth freeing the power, from that point the rest was sketchy at best, none of them really knew just what the future would hold, how the Cube could be wielded or just what abilities it truly held, their relentless quest had merely become all of their lives for as long as memories stretched back through the now murky depths of time. At times like this in rare moments of quiet reflection she wondered at the sense of all this, but these blasphemous ideas were always swept angrily aside as she cursed herself for her weakness, they had to have the Cube, they had to have the power and nothing, absolutely nothing must be allowed to stand between them and their destiny and they would go around, over or through anyone who would stand in their path.
Unknown to Lucifer she was following in the footsteps of Gabriel merely at a later time, Gabriel, Michael and Raphael had already travelled along this stretch of road and Gabriel, much like Lucifer had been lost deep within his own dark thoughts. He had been constantly and unconsciously wiping at his face as he still felt the wet stain of another’s blood run through his jaws and drip off his chin, the animal that had been unleashed the night before was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. He had come out of his feral rage to find himself soaked with the red river that he had created within the small hostelry, like Lucifer his mind was clouded from time to time as he questioned their quest with its costs and even its potential, but also like Lucifer he was always compelled to continue. His main obstacle now was in fact his own dangerously unpredictability, last nights bloody incident testified to that, he had to maintain his focus as Michael and Raphael were already observing him a little too intently, his position as their leader could very well come under threat as he knew that both of them greatly coveted his role. His plans had thus far all fallen as they were intended, Baine had bounced around seemingly at random but in reality within the very strict confines of Gabriel’s plans, plans which had been devised centuries ago purely awaiting the unmasking of Metatron’s child. Baine had been impregnated with thoughts of freedom little realising that no matter what choices he made they were always the choices devised for him, Gabriel had not intervened during the attacks on Baine, eager to test the half-breeds credentials. Likewise with the pitiful McCullum, Gabriel had never sired the pathetic creature, he had identified McCullum from birth, he had led his real father away from the family home at early age and thus begun the long and arduous journey of intelligence coupled with an empty hole where love and relationships should lie. He had guided the policeman’s career through the years steering him away from forming attachments to others, burying himself in a soulless job devoid of any loving interaction, as much as Gabriel was capable of he still needed mortal men to walk among the earth forwarding his will. The authority of the human law enforcers was a great asset to cut a sway through the world of men, he needed one such man to follow Baine and pave the way for the 11th Order to seek the prize, the senior officer Irving was merely another pawn to be moved about the board at Gabriel’s will facilitating the quest. Much of what he had told McCullum was a necessary lie, the Reapers were agents of the 11th Order, foul beasts who served a violent purpose, the attack on McCullum had only ever been intended to gain his trust and to open a physical wound, when Gabriel had placed a healing hand upon the loathsome mans back he had healed the wound but he had also cast a small piece of himself into McCullums blood to make him more receptive and easier to control along with a tracking sense to enable him to follow Baine more accurately. Michael and Raphael were faced forward without moving, their eyes fixed firmly ahead betraying neither thoughts nor emotions, Gabriel knew that they were more than capable of treachery but he also knew that their feet would remain in place whilst he still had their confidence and their confidence was only maintained by success so as long as he delivered he would not have to deal with a mutiny, the road blazed by as they rushed headlong into his destiny.
The day was proceeding along its bitter path, the stone cathedral walls and floors offered little protection against the creeping cold, Jessica Reynolds bristled with self importance as she busied herself with authorities. Despite being a voluntary position being a Tour Guide within the ancient walls was a much sought after post amongst the local community bringing with it an air of achievement and respect. The Guides were only selected from the very most knowledgeable members of the holy city, the recruitment process was extensive and exhaustive and once appointed the post was seldom left, Jessica had been a scholar of the Cathedral for well over thirty years now and there was not a nook, nor a cranny that she did not know intimately. The first morning’s crowd were beginning to assemble as she drank in their eager and inquisitive stares, the group were punctual and organised, always a good sign, Jessica stood around five foot five in comfortable and sensible shoes, dressed protectively against the winter weather she stood hands clasped behind her back in a commanding headmistress’ pose. Her first morning collection of visitors gathered in the large entrance, she greeted them as they entered carefully scanning their ages and attire for signs of potential disturbing behaviour, inappropriate clothing and footwear normally led to poor attention spans, likewise expensive and intricate cameras and camcorders had begun to seep into her tours, she had campaigned tirelessly for their removal but so far unsuccessfully.
“Gather in, gather in ladies and gentlemen” Jessica ushered them together, she checked her watch to f
ind that it was precisely 10am, “The present Cathedral that you stand in today was begun sometime between 1180 and 1182 and is the culmination of centuries of rebuilding and expansion, constructed in the Transitional Norman style using fine-grained, purple Cambrian sandstone, it has survived both the collapse of its tower and an earthquake in the 13th but the history of this site begins far further back than that” she checked around the room to make sure that they were all paying perfect attention. The group were the usual collection of older visitors, many part of the various coach tours that frequented the Cathedral at this time of year, most on the “Turkey and Tinsel” tours where families packed off elderly relatives during the winter break. She scanned the faces pleased at their attentive faces, only one man seemed distracted, he was much younger that the others and despite standing amongst the group he seemed strangely separate from the others, he did not look particularly out of the ordinary but his very averageness seemed a little too perfect and his eyes seemed dark even in the gloomy surroundings.
Baine stamped his feet to stave off the creeping cold of his darkened gothic surroundings, the Cathedral was immense, the impossibly high ceiling stretched ever upward seemingly reaching the heavens in their praise. The huge stain glass windows towered over the vast worshipping arena encasing the infinite empty space, Baine felt that the desired effect of the building was to create an atmosphere to humble you before a God of sheer omnipotence. The coach tour group was hanging from every word of the willowy guide; he slowly extricated from view and slipped un-noticed into the long shadows. The sounds of the tour floated throughout the echoed hall growing distant as he backed away; at the head of the Cathedral lay a reconstructed altar and altar piece, a reredos behind depicted three figures that strangely to Baine he knew to be St James, St Peter, St Andrew and St Paul, there was Latin text inscribed in the hard stone surface that read "Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world”. Baine felt centuries of his family’s blood and history coursing through his veins, whatever lies ahead for him on this path he felt the strength of his father at his side, so far he had relied solely on his instincts to map his way through this labyrinth and so he took another step forward. He removed the Book of Enoch from his back pack and placed it on the altar, he knelt before the ancient stone table and raised his head to the heavens, ready to be bestowed with the power of ages, ready to take his place in history, ready to fulfil his destiny and assume his rightful position, he thrust his hands to the watching skies and squeezed his eyes tightly shut in wild anticipation. Finally after about thirty seconds of silence, he began to feel like a right tit, he hefted himself up off of the cold floor, the book faced him mockingly from the altar, he reached out with an embarrassed hand desperately praying that nobody had been watching his ridiculous antics. As he lifted the book the stone table shifted slightly backwards from its ancient moorings, Baine stopped and placed the book back down again, the table shifted back, he shook his head and took the book back restoring it in his back pack. The altar had left small grooves on the floor when it had moved, Baine knelt down on the floor and placed his hand under the table, he felt a small breath of stale air emanating from below, he stood crouched by the altar and placing his shoulder to it began to push it further backwards exposing dark steps leading down beneath the belly of the Cathedral. Baine stared unhappily in the darkness, he looked around for something to light his way, he spotted an antique candelabra, it was gold and heavy, holding three large red candles, he lit the three and used the dancing flicker of flames as he descended. The stone steps were very old but still sturdy; they were practically devoid of foot wells worn over time leading him to the conclusion that whatever lay down here had been sealed to prying eyes many years ago. The passageway was narrow and his shoulders brushed the walls until he reached the bottom, the floor was dirt beneath his feet and the small room stank of sour air that clogged his throat making it difficult to swallow. He lifted the heavy candelabra to illuminate the room, it was only around 12 feet squared, at the far end lay three large stone tablets each fixed to the wall and each with different engravings etched into their centuries old surfaces. The first said, “The wicked flee when no man pursueth: but the righteous are bold as a lion” the second, “The wicked flee when man pursueth: but the righteous are bold as a lion” and the third “The wicked flee when no man pursueth: but the bold as a lion are righteous”, Baine remembered the phrase scratched into his fathers book, “Kneel only before the true word of God”. The trouble was that there were only the slightest differences between the engraved tablets, he did not know the phrase and thus could not tell the correct one from the impostors, he knew that he must kneel before one of the stone markers to further his journey and judging by the way the game had played out so far he could make an educated guess that kneeling before the wrong one would be a mistake of the gravest kind. He closed his eyes and relaxed his mind attempting to seek inspiration, none was forthcoming, standing in the dark and dust he was alone, it dawned on him with much surprise that he suddenly felt alone, after eons of time being completely self contained the recent links of his father and brother, not to mention his dancer, had cracked his seal and opened him up. As he stood amidst the dancing flames light he felt venerable for the first time in his existence, the choice before him suddenly weighed heavily upon his tiring shoulders, he now felt the burden of his families eyes watching him, he also now understood that with the support of others in his life came an unwanted responsibility. He tried to interpret the engravings but nothing leapt out, it could genuinely be any of the three, after everything that had happened it now would come down to blind luck, or, or maybe something else, maybe faith?, was that the purpose here, was that the design all along. Baine stood before the tablets and knelt before the first, he braced himself for the consequences but no Indiana Jones blades fell from the ceiling or spikes ripped through his kneeling body, after a few eternal seconds the first heavy stone tablet receded into the wall revealing a small yellowing parchment. Baine stood and retrieved his reward, all in all it seemed some what of a let down, there were no explosions of holy light, no divine apparitions, just a small piece of paper, he gently unrolled the parchment for fear of the ancient paper disintegrating beneath his rough hands, it was a small drawing:
There were no words only the strange drawing that annoyingly meant nothing to Baine, it could be a symbol, a graphic, a sign, was it writing of some kind, perhaps an Asian word of some sort, Baine sighed to himself and tucked the parchment away safely into his jacket pocket and climbed the stone steps back out into the fresh aired Cathedral once again. He hedged his way carefully and quietly back into the main area, the voice of the guide drawing closer as he approached the tourist group meaning to re-assimilate himself into their throng before subtly heading for the nearest exit.
“St Davids Cathedral has been a site of pilgrimage and worship for more than 800 years” the guide continued, “in around 589 to 601ad it is estimated that St David himself died having founded a monastery on this very site” she continued “St Davids itself was known as Menevia and it was attacked and destroyed many times, in” she was fully into her flow when she stopped suddenly, she flapped at her ear with gloved fingers, a strange buzzing intruded that she mistook for an out of season insect of some kind, her head snapped down violently against her thin chest and she ceased.
Baine had not been paying much attention to the prattling old woman as she spouted on about the history of the place although he had to admit that the Cathedral itself was mightily impressive, the grandiose sweeping buildings were set within a large expanse of grounds, the Norman architecture and imposing tower added an air of majesty to the inspiring structure. He still had no idea just what exactly it was that he was looking for, he had hoped to slip away from the tour in order to conduct one of his own of a more private nature, he suddenly grew aware that the group he was in were rushing toward the guide who had stopped talking and now stood limp. Whilst the wrinkle brigade offered assistance Baine ste
eped backwards, he looked quickly around cursing himself silently for not already securing the interiors layout in his mind, as usual in his life at the minute something was off here by some distance. He began to back away toward the exit at his back,
“BAINE” a huge monstrous voice bellowed out of the small tour guides chest, his elderly companions backed away scared and nervous, the guide head snapped up viciously her eyes were suddenly black and deep, her head tilted to one side, one intrepid group member ventured forward, a blue rinse woman held out an ill advised helping hand toward the guide. Jessica or whatever she was now reached out toward the helping hand, grabbed it firmly and ripped the arm from the poor woman’s shoulder, the blue rinse staggered back and sat down heavily on the hard stone floor, she looked down disbelievingly at the bloody stump now gushing violently, the silence was suddenly broken by a random scream from the group swiftly joined by several more. They ran, well as best as a collective of OAP’s could manage, Baine had no real interest in saving other people but now they were blocking his means of escape and forcing him back into the cathedral where the tour guide was now a picture of ecstasy as she wiped and tasted the blood across her face, the crimson smears offering a stark contrast to her pale skin. She looked up and stared deeply into his eyes, the look was intimate and hungry, Baine opened his mouth with the idea of tossing out a humorous quip, the idea was short lived however as the guide flung herself hard into him, the impact forced them backwards crashing through a large wooden pew. Baine struggled with the woman as she flailed violently with teeth and nails, she was impressively strong of body and will as he struggled to free himself from her clasping limbs, Baine managed to get his right hand under the woman’s chin forcing her head backwards and himself away from the snapping teeth. When she was sufficiently far enough away from him he managed to plant a foot firmly in her chest, he heaved with every ounce of strength he had, once free he rolled back to his feet assuming a warriors stance, a quick glance over his shoulder told him annoyingly that the rest of the tour group were huddled against the closed door unable to comprehend the functions of an exit. He turned his attention back to the guide just in time to see her steaming across the floor at a rapid pace, at his feet were shards of the shattered pew, he slid his foot under a particularly jagged piece and smoothly flipped it up into the air, he snaked out his right hand and grabbed it in one smooth motion, as the guide ran into him full pelt he shot out his right arm around her throat and span with her momentum allowing him to move from in front to behind her in an instant, he pulled hard tilting her backward and with his left hand drove the pew shard hard into the back of her head exploding out through the front, he dropped the ruined body to the floor. He slowly turned toward the exit door where the OAP crowd had been cowering but he only got half way there when someone crashed into his back sending him flying. He turned on his knees to see one of the old men from the group advancing menacingly with evil intentions in his black eyes,