The Prophet Box-Set: Books 1-4

by David Beers

  There is reason to believe that the Black has returned, your Holiness.

  The High Priest gave no indication that the message bothered him. He simply stared upward as if nothing had been said at all.

  What makes you think such a thing?

  The PD has received an anonymous tip. The tip wasn’t coy; they used the forbidden terms in their descriptions. The informant claims that the weapon has been gathering its forces for 20 years.

  When was the last time the Black attempted this? the High Priest asked.

  A thousand years ago, your Holiness.

  A long time, he said.

  The First Priest remained silent.

  It is odd that someone within the weapon’s flock would report him, isn’t it?

  The First Priest hadn’t considered that, nor had anyone else on the Council. Yet, now that it was in the open, he couldn’t deny such obviousness. Yes.

  Why do you think they would do such a thing? Have they not worshipped the blasphemer and the creature he follows? For long years, I’d imagine.

  I don’t know, your Holiness. Perhaps Corinth is looking out for us. Perhaps He will help us again.

  The High Priest chuckled and finally broke from his stare. He turned his head to the ground, the rest of his body not moving. Was it Corinth that saved us last time?

  Corinth has always been with us, the First Priest said. He didn’t know how else to answer the question, nor what it really meant.

  And we give thanks, the High Priest said. He didn’t wait for the First Priest’s necessary response before continuing. You’ve told the Prevention Division to find the weapon, I see?

  Yes, your Holiness.

  Are you nervous, my First Priest?

  I have faith in Corinth.

  As we all do, but that doesn’t mean you cannot be nervous. Tell me true. Are you?

  Of course, your Holiness.

  Why? the High Priest asked.

  Because the Black threatens our entire existence. The existence of all humanity.

  He watched the High Priest nod.

  We knew this would come. Maybe we didn’t know when, but we knew it would. A lot of time and resources were spent after the last weapon. You know the history, I’m sure?

  Yes, your Holiness, as much as I was given access to.

  The creature lies beyond our universe, but it’s not Corinth. It lives and dies as anything else, at least that’s my belief.

  The First nodded, again at a loss for how to respond. He knew the scientific consensus on the Black, but also that it couldn’t tell him much. The Black was nearly beyond human comprehension.

  A long silence fell between the two of them while the High Priest remained staring at the floor. After some length of time, perhaps as much as an hour, the High spoke again.

  I shall go to the Ministries and alert them. If the Black breaks through, it will be too late. Perhaps it will even be too late if the weapon attacks first. Perhaps it’s always been too late.

  The First Priest remained quiet.

  Veritros saw the truth in the end. Perhaps I’m now seeing a different truth. Perhaps there can be two truths simultaneously. There are things happening as well that I’m not sure bode well for us. I can’t speak of them yet, but I will soon.

  The High Priest finally turned and looked at the First. Continue with your path. If we’re to survive this, you will need to find the weapon before he steps forward. I will do my part with the other Ministries to both support you and plan for worst case scenarios.

  Yes, your Holiness, the First Priest said.

  You know that I will be monitoring you more closely.

  Of course, your Holiness.

  Go and do Corinth’s bidding. We will talk shortly. We give thanks.

  We give thanks, the First Priest said.

  Seven

  The Old World Ministry

  “Has this happened before?”

  Daniel looked at the doctor and didn’t hesitate with his answer.

  “No. Never.”

  The doctor nodded. He carried a truly old fashioned pad of paper, but he hadn’t written anything down on it yet.

  “We’ve talked with your daughter extensively about the incident, and I wanted to ask you a few more questions about it, if that’s okay?”

  God, please let her have been smart, Daniel thought. “Sure.”

  “What exactly did you see?” the doctor asked. He was older and had introduced himself as Dr. Himmelsbach upon entering. Daniel knew what the doctor was doing now, what these questions were about. They were trained to look for things like this—psychotic breaks—and assess whether they were actual brain abnormalities or something more.

  This is where the doctor got to play detective.

  So be careful with your answers.

  “She was on the floor and screaming. Rolling around some. I thought she might have burnt herself on a plate or something.”

  “That would be a pretty severe burn, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Daniel said. “But we deal with very hot food, Doctor.”

  Himmelsbach nodded.

  “And was there anything else happening? Did she say anything to you at all? To anyone?”

  “No. She was only screaming.” Daniel needed to put the questions back on the doctor; he didn’t want to go down the route the doctor was taking him. “Do you know what’s wrong with her? What did she say? I’ve been here over 24 hours and I haven’t seen her yet. I’d like to.”

  “Just a few more questions, Mr. Sesam, and then we’ll talk about you visiting her.”

  Damn it.

  “I want you to think very hard about whether she’s ever done anything like this before. If this is a brain abnormality, we need to diagnose it correctly in order to get her the help she needs.”

  Or to make her disappear. “No. Trust me, I would know if my daughter had fallen to the ground and started screaming before.”

  Again, the doctor nodded. He leaned forward, placing the notepad on the table at his side. “Listen, Mr. Sesam. I know you’re concerned. I know you’re frightened about what has happened in the past with the Church. I’m not stupid and neither are you. Something like this, a hundred years ago, it wouldn’t have been good. The Church didn’t used to take a kind view on the mentally ill. I’ll be the first to admit it, and any doctor worth anything would do the same: the Church used to immediately classify those suffering as heretics. That’s all stopped. The past hundred years has seen a great change within the Church and the Pope. They understand now that people with mental issues need support. I’m here to give that support, but I need you to be honest with me. Has she done this before? Have you or anyone else in your family ever had something like this happen?”

  “No, Doctor,” Daniel said. “I would tell you if so. This is the first time I’ve ever seen it. I’ve never had episodes like this and my wife didn’t either. There’s no history of mental illness anywhere in my family. You can check my records.”

  The doctor was quiet for a few more moments, but finally leaned back in his chair. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. Nicki told us the same, and that makes our treatment much easier. Much simpler.”

  “So what do you think happened?” Daniel asked. He wouldn’t ask again what Nicki said. He’d find out later—questions about her explanation might put the doctor back down his previous path.

  “Well, there aren’t any burns on her, but based on what she said, I think she might have been looking for attention. She’s single, isn’t she?”

  Daniel nodded.

  “And she’s 24?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, there’s a reason the Church prefers marriage by the age of 21. After that, especially in women, a certain loneliness begins seeping in. I’ve seen it over and over. The Lord told us that a major purpose for women is to bear children, to continue our species onward. She can’t do this if she’s not married, and she knows it. I think she was asking for help, Mr. Sesam, in the only way she thought she could
. She wants eyes on her. She wants to be wanted, to be loved.” The doctor paused. “Can I speak frankly?”

  “Of course.”

  “I think that you’ve been doing her a disservice by allowing her to live with you. If you want your daughter to be happy and healthy, you’re going to need to support her in finding a husband. I really would hate to see her in here like this again.”

  Daniel nodded, not believing a thing the man said. The doctor might actually believe the bullshit he was spouting, indoctrination from the same Bible which would authorize the murder of his daughter if the truth came out. Still, if the doctor believed this, it was better than the alternative. “Do you have any resources that might be able to help me? I’m doing this all alone, and after my wife died … well, I never dated again.”

  “She died?”

  Daniel nodded.

  “I’m sure you know that the Church definitely encourages remarriage. We have a lot of resources that will help both of you. I’ll make sure one of the med techs speaks with you before you leave, okay?”

  “That would be great,” Daniel said. “Can I see her now? Would that be alright?”

  “Yes. Of course. Let’s go to her room.”

  Daniel sat in the car with about ten pamphlets full of Church gospel on marriage and a woman’s place in the world. He put them beneath the seat and looked over at his daughter.

  “Now that we’re out of there, tell me the truth; how are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay, Dad,” Nicki said.

  He looked at her for another second and then started the car. They pulled out from the parking lot and Daniel waited until they were on the road to start talking again.

  “You told them you wanted to get married?”

  He looked over at her. She was pale and appeared thinner.

  “What else was I going to tell them?”

  “Is it true?”

  “That I was looking for attention?”

  “Yeah. Is that the truth? Because if it is, that’s fine, but we should be talking about stuff like that.”

  She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and then, “No, Dad. It’s not true.”

  Daniel nodded. He didn’t want to say anything else right now, because he wasn’t sure how much he should say. He’d spent the past 24 hours alone, thinking, but hadn’t come up with anything useful.

  “I didn’t tell them the truth, because if I did, I’d still be in there.”

  “What happened in the restaurant, Nicki?”

  “I ….” Her eyes started watering. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it. Ever again.”

  Her words were almost running together. Daniel reached over and took her hand in his.

  “Hey. It’s okay. It’s okay, sweetie. I’m here and there won’t be any more dreams.”

  “It wasn’t a dream,” she said. “I didn’t dream anything.”

  And don’t you already know that, Daniel? Haven’t you known that since you first saw her writhing on the floor?

  “Tell me then,” he said.

  Nicki jerked her hand away. “Are you not listening to me? I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to see it ever again.” Nicki looked over at him. “I’ve read about things like it, Dad. Back in school. They give a class on Demons and they talk about the possessed. That’s what it felt like. As if something was reaching out to me. And … and … I know what happens to people that are possessed. The Church will take me.” The tears rushed forward then, and her words disappeared beneath their weight.

  Daniel reached for her hand again.

  “No, honey. No. No one is taking you. Now stop talking like that.”

  His daughter cried in the seat next to him, looking out the window.

  Daniel drove, knowing that he might have just told a lie. Knowing that if the Church heard what she just said, they’d descend on her like vultures on a corpse.

  The night had grown late and the moon high. Daniel sat on his porch, the rocking chair still beneath him. He didn’t want it moving too much because it might wake Nicki. She’d been sleeping practically since they walked in the door.

  Daniel helped her to bed, then he’d poured himself a drink. He’d taken a sip, walked outside, and not touched it again. Getting drunk right now wasn’t advisable, and he really didn’t know why he made the drink in the first place. To help him deal with the stress, maybe—but that wasn’t the way to do it.

  So, he sat on the porch staring at the road in front of his house.

  Have you not thought enough, old man? You need a few more hours to consider what you’re going to do?

  The mocking voice inside his head was right, but it didn’t make what came next any easier. It wasn’t like he could keep any of this from Nicki. This was her life now. Sure, she was past the typical age, but that didn’t alter the facts one bit. She hadn’t described a lot, but she hadn’t needed to. He heard the emotion, and knew that whatever she’d seen had felt real.

  You gave it to her.

  He hadn’t wanted kids for this exact reason, but Charlotte wouldn’t have married him otherwise. She loved him but she knew she’d love being a mother, too. So he gave her a child … and hoped he hadn’t given the child anything.

  Turns out you were wrong.

  It was a fifty-fifty chance, he thought.

  Well, if you wanted heads, you got tails.

  He sighed, letting go of the arguments in his head. No matter what was said, he’d still be here on his porch with a daughter who was about to face things she didn’t understand. The danger didn’t rest in what she saw, but in what people would do if they found out. The sight rarely hurt anyone. It only showed things. That doctor could say whatever he wanted in his infirmary, but Daniel knew the truth. A hundred years ago—and a thousand years before that—the Church actively searched for people with the sight. They did their best to eradicate them. Of course, the reasons had changed over that time period; the Church was always trying something new to get the populace to help.

  In the end, it came to the same result, and anyone who had the sight knew it—the people who carried the genetic abnormality disappeared. There were no reeducation camps. No exorcisms. No seminaries. Nothing that the Church said happened, actually happened

  The people were simply killed.

  The doctor might know all this or he might not. Daniel did, and so had his mother before him. Regardless of what the Church tried to tell the masses, those that lived it, knew the truth. The doctor could go on and on about them being there to help, or the Church no longer believing in the sight. He could say all of it, but Daniel knew the truth.

  The Church and the sight were in complete opposition to each other. They had to be.

  And she has it. You know that now, and maybe you knew it the moment you saw her drop on that floor, regardless of what you tried to tell yourself in the infirmary.

  Daniel stood up from the chair, tired of talking to himself. It was time he talked to his daughter.

  “Nicki. Get up.”

  Nicki turned on her side, hearing the words but not really registering them. She was deep in sleep’s black embrace and whoever spoke was somewhere far, far away. Perhaps in a dream that wanted her to venture toward it, but Nicki didn’t want that. Blackness was good. She felt safe and wanted to stay.

  “Nicki. Get up.”

  She felt a hand touch her shoulder and it had the same effect of throwing cold water on her. Nicki’s eyes flashed open and she jerked up.

  Her father stood above her.

  “Whuh? Whuh is it?” she said, her tongue not working as she wanted.

  “I need you to get up. We have to talk. Outside.”

  “What time is it?” she said, slowly sitting up and pulling the blanket with her.

  “It’s after midnight. Get yourself dressed and then come outside. I’ll be on the porch.”

  She watched her father walk out of the room, a dread settling on her that erased all thoughts of sleep or the past two day
s. He hadn’t spoken so seriously to her since Mom’s death.

  Nicki waited another second and then pulled the blanket from her. Wearing the shirt she slept in, she stepped from the bed and walked across the room to her dresser. She pulled out a pair of sweatpants and put them on, her anxiety growing with each passing second. She heard the front door close as her dad went outside.

  Figuring it would be cool, she grabbed her jacket from the closet, and then walked into the hallway. She put the jacket on as she made her way to the living room, pausing in front of the door. She could see her father through the screen; he was off the porch, standing on the concrete path that led to the driveway. He looked out at the yard, the road just beyond it.

  “Come on,” he said.

  Nicki pushed open the screen and stepped onto the wooden porch. The cold air bathed her skin and she pulled the jacket tighter, placing her hands in her pockets. She went down the steps and stopped next to her dad.

  “What is it?” she said. Nicki was fully awake now, sleep barely a memory.

  “Further out,” he said and started walking. He didn’t look over at her and after a second, she followed.

  They walked until they got to the road and then he stopped.

  “Dad, you’re scaring me.”

  “I’m scaring myself,” he said. He turned around and looked at the house, still not giving her a glance. “Now I want you to obey me, Nicki. I need you to tell me what you saw. It might be scary, but that’s okay. I need to know.”

  “Why?”

  “You tell me first and then I’ll answer your questions.”

  Nicki knew she wasn’t a young girl anymore, and though she wasn’t as tall as her father, she stood higher than his waist now. She listened to him because she loved him, because she respected him. She knew she was sheltered; she’d lived only with him her whole life, never venturing out on her own. She should be more independent, perhaps married like the Church wanted. Nicki chose this life, though, and she did depend on her father. Even so, a part of her didn’t want to say anything—refusing to dredge up what she’d felt in the restaurant.