The World Ends Tonight

by Wood, Rick

  After a few seconds, she reopened her eyes, expecting Balam to be heaving over her, waiting for her to watch him. To witness what he was doing.

  But he wasn’t.

  He was laid on the floor, legs kicking and flailing, thrashing out helplessly.

  Martin stood over it.

  57

  Gabrielle stood awkwardly alone, staring at the lavish golden gates. Her hands fidgeted uncomfortably. She sighed, knowing she should step back through them, but knowing what that would mean.

  “Are you coming?” came a confident voice.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the route back to earth. Once she stepped through those gates, she would not be able to open them again until it was over. The rapture had ended, and hell’s attack on earth had begun.

  It was time for those gates to be locked.

  She bowed her head. Took a small step toward the gates, then turned her head back once more.

  How could she do this?

  “What is your worry?”

  “Nothing, my Lord. It’s just…” Gabrielle’s voice faded away.

  “Tell me.”

  A sickening feeling grew inside of her. It made her shake, made her feel nervous. For the first time in her long existence, she was unsure about whether she was doing the right thing.

  “It’s Cassy. Balam has her. She has been taken once again.”

  “It is done. She has made her choice. Please, Gabrielle, enter our sanctuary so we can shut the doors to earth.”

  She took a few wary steps forward, then halted. Standing directly before the gates, just one single stride to go, she looked upwards.

  Her head shook.

  “I can’t.”

  “Gabrielle, this is not the time.”

  “Do you know what they say about you on earth? What Derek Lansdale has said?”

  “Derek Lansdale is a great man, but he too has made his choice. Please hurry.”

  Gabrielle turned around, facing the route to Cassy and Eddie, gazing at the path to an earth that would now be full of malevolent violence. So much death. So much suffering.

  “Derek has fought in your name for so long,” Gabrielle continued. Her voice was soft and wary, but also had an air of firm hesitance in it; confidence in her evident worry. “They think you don’t care.”

  “I gave them a child conceived by heaven. I listened to their prayers and aided in exorcising their demons. I have done enough!”

  “But have you, my Lord?” Her whole body shook. She knew she shouldn’t dare oppose him, but somehow found herself doing so. “I mean, look at all they are doing. All they want is a helping hand.”

  “It is not up to me to justify my actions to you, nor for you to question them. If you wish to join them, do so. But make your hasty decision quickly.”

  Gabrielle smiled.

  She couldn’t enter heaven. Not now. Not with this burden of guilt spreading through her like acid.

  “I’m going back,” she decided. “And I need your help.”

  An echoing silence was her response.

  “Please, Lord. If they succeed in defeating the heir, there is one more action required to prevent this happening again. I know you know this.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “And they will need our help. It won’t even require you to go to earth!”

  Gabrielle turned back to the gate and moved to one knee. She pressed her hands together in a praying position, bowing her head.

  “Dear Lord, I have followed you for millennia after millennia, and never asked for anything in return. Please, answer me this one prayer.”

  She waited.

  Then she got her answer.

  “What is your wish, my child?”

  Gabrielle smiled as she delicately fluttered her lips in a heavenly whisper, explaining what she needed him to do.

  58

  The heir could growl all it wanted. It could roar, threaten defiance, thrash its arms about.

  It did nothing to Eddie.

  The heir was Eddie. It could do no harm to itself.

  Neither could survive without the other.

  That was why Eddie needed an angel to help him. He needed Cassy to return quickly. She was going to be essential.

  He lifted his arms and, as the heir charged at him, he flung his arms to his side, causing an impulsive explosion that sent the heir flailing onto its front. The earth shuddered as it landed but Eddie didn’t care. It was time to end this.

  The heir returned to its feet, but Eddie would not let it regather its strength. He waved his arm, sending the heir back to the floor with a deafening thud.

  The heir rose once again, but Eddie waved his arms, pinning it down.

  “Stay down!” Eddie demanded.

  The heir obeyed.

  Derek’s eyes slowly opened as he watched on. To his surprise, the heir followed Eddie’s instructions exactly.

  Eddie stood beside the heir’s giant head, watching it with gritted teeth. Its size did not deter him. Its appearance did not cause any trembling or terror in Eddie.

  The heir’s eyes widened as Eddie stuck his arm into the heir’s throat.

  With a final roar, the heir twisted and contorted, struggling against the agony, but managed to muster only a feeble resistance. It tried raising its arm to brush Eddie away, but he simply waved the efforts down and continued digging his arm deeper and deeper into his opponent’s throat.

  Eddie felt the heir’s oesophagus in his hand. He gripped it, tightened, pulled and pulled, ripping the throat further and further.

  The heir thrashed out its arms, but Eddie simply froze it with a raise of his, refuting any attempt to halt the proceedings.

  With a large, agonising pull, Eddie ripped along the edge of the heir’s neck., and tore out a chunk of its wind-pipe.

  The heir cried out aggressively and Eddie dug his hands back into its throat, sinking them in, gripping the underside of its head.

  He shouted under the strain of his muscles, his voice echoing through the night, watching the heir’s eyes grow with alarm then freeze as he tore its entire head off.

  Buckets of blood splashed over the field, followed by fragments of coarse skin and gory entrails.

  He picked the head up and threw it across the field.

  The heir’s eyes widened one final time. The mouth opened to roar but whimpered, crumbling into submission, lips shaking as the life seeped out of it.

  The eyes grew still. The mouth became static.

  Eddie was grateful for what he had done, but knew it meant nothing. He had only killed himself.

  And now he was bound for hell if his sister did not return.

  Eddie fell to his knees. Suddenly growing weaker. Suddenly unable to stand.

  Eddie coughed up a mouthful of blood, falling onto his front, his eyelids shaking.

  “No…” he wept. “Not yet…”

  Eddie weakly collapsed, his body seizing. He tried to lift his hands but his touch felt weak, a soft absence draining from him.

  “Cassy… I need Cassy…”

  Eddie closed his eyes, attempting to gather strength. He felt the life leak out of him. His legs went first, paralysed into heavy weights he couldn’t so much as twitch.

  He turned to Derek, lying unconscious across the field from him.

  “Derek…” he tried. “Please…”

  Derek didn’t respond.

  “Derek… As my soul dies, it’s going to travel to heaven or hell. I need Cassy.”

  Derek’s eyes fluttered, then closed once more.

  “Cassy is the only one who can access that journey… she needs to be here when I die to make sure my soul goes on to heaven…”

  Eddie closed his eyes solemnly, wishing Martin would reappear.

  “The devil will try and take me, Derek. She can’t let it. The devil will try and claim my soul as I pass through; he will try and take it to hell.”

  Derek didn’t respond.

  Eddie’s eyes closed.

  “Then
all this would be for nothing.”

  He listened out for Martin.

  Listening out for his sister’s voice that never came.

  “He would just take me to hell and make another heir…”

  He felt himself slipping away.

  Cassy and Martin were nowhere in sight.

  59

  Martin staggered to the floor, tripping over his own feet. He fell flat out on his chest, his breath heaving, choking on oxygen.

  Balam’s laughter boomed.

  “This is it?” Balam mocked. “This is the saviour?”

  Martin struggled to his feet, balancing himself precariously on two weak, shaking arms.

  “This is what heaven conceives?” Balam continued. Even the bull head snorted laughter and the ram head seemed to chuckle.

  Martin did all he could to muster his strength, trying to climb to his feet, to create some kind of opposition to the prince of hell.

  He could feel Cassy’s worried gaze. Her tears of knowledge that not only was she about to be tortured for eternity, but that she was going to watch heaven’s greatest weapon die in the process.

  “We get Edward King, the great heir of hell – and this is what you were given? This is heaven’s warrior?” Balam dropped his head with a snort of laughter. “Pathetic.”

  “Edward King is not your heir any longer!” Cassy shouted a cry that was met with an aggressive growl as Balam turned its heads toward her.

  It looked over its shoulder and saw its bear beating down the track. It obediently dove across the air, landing its teeth into Cassy’s leg.

  She howled in agony. Her face tried to stay resolute, her arms tried not to shake, and her tears tried not to pour – she had to convince herself or it wouldn’t work.

  Martin watched as she writhed in pain, attempting to lift himself to his feet once more. He fell once again.

  Balam took a few menacing strides toward Martin, encapsulating the young man in its shadow. It loomed over him, its ram head snapping its jaw forward, and its bull head salivating, dripping in messy puddles on the floor.

  Martin rolled onto his back, groaning, peering up at the villainous wretch readying its eager claws to slash Martin’s throat. He could see the demon enjoying this. Savouring the moment that it destroyed the greatest weapon forged by its enemy.

  “This is a glorious moment,” Balam spoke, surveying the scene with hungry eyes. “The moment when you die and take the world with it.”

  “My brother has come back! He will destroy you!” Cassy persisted, the bear consequently biting into her thigh even harder.

  “Is that so? I have fought him before, and I would love to fight him again…”

  Balam lifted his hand, leering at his own claw as it elongated into a curved, spiked, lethal weapon.

  Martin stared wide-eyed at the impending spike about to sever his throat.

  “I am the prince of hell!” Balam declared.

  Martin clenched his fists, grabbing pieces of grass, urging adrenaline to surge through his body.

  “I am the devil’s right hand, even if the heir is not ready to take such a place!”

  Martin closed his eyes. Felt the wet blades against his palm. Listened to the distant thunderous rumble. Felt the specks of rain dripping on his head.

  “I am the king of deception!”

  Balam swung its claw downwards, sailing toward Martin’s throat. Cassy’s voice cried out in a terrified gasp.

  Martin stuck his hands together, catching the blade of the claw between his palms.

  “I dunno,” he mused. “I think I’m pretty good at deceiving too.”

  He leapt to his feet, full of spritely energy, dropping the weakened façade as Balam’s eyes widened into humiliated dread.

  Martin twisted the sharp claw he had clutched between his hands upwards, curving it toward Balam’s human throat, pushing and pushing. Balam tried to resist but could only watch helplessly as his own claw sliced into his human head’s throat.

  After holding the claw in place, Martin avoided the ram’s snapping jaw and quickly withdrew the claw, allowing various shades of dark red to spray over the wet surface below, covering it in a river of blood.

  The bull did not fight back, but instead, withdrew in fear. Martin swung his final strike into the bull’s throat and dove to the side as Balam’s destitute remains thudded to the floor in a glorious quake.

  Martin ran up to the bear, conjuring a line of flames and setting it on fire. It ran off, shrieking wildly.

  Martin frantically peeled away the barbed spikes constraining Cassy. It took all the energy he had to try to peel them back, but still they would not budge. He waved his hands until he created a solid thin line of fire, using it to pierce through the metallic wires like a welder.

  She dropped to the floor and Martin caught her in his arms. She moaned weakly, but Martin knew that time was of the essence.

  “Cassy, we need to go,” he urged her.

  “Why?”

  “Eddie needs you, he says it’s crucial.”

  Martin helped her wearily to her feet but she lay back down again.

  He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into a fireman’s lift, and ran for his life.

  60

  Eddie’s mouth filled with blood, dripping down his cheek and onto his collar. His vision grew blurry, unfocused, and nearby voices sounded muffled, like they were being shouted through a wall.

  He could feel himself being shaken, his body moving somewhere way off in the distance. His head drooped heavily, feeling like a dead weight under the pressure of gravity.

  “Eddie!” A vague, muffled shout became temporarily clearer. “Eddie!”

  Eddie turned to his side and saw a bloody mess next to him. Derek had somehow dragged himself across the field, laying in a heap next to him, constantly moaning from the pain, his hazy face staring at Eddie beneath his heavy eyelids.

  “Derek! I’m dying…”

  “Me too…” Derek whispered.

  Eddie tried to lift his hand but couldn’t. He grew confused, his head muddled with unrecognisable thoughts, unable to understand why he couldn’t lift his arm.

  “My body is paralysed, Derek. I can’t die. I can’t die before Cassy gets here.”

  Eddie’s eyelids drooped.

  “Come on, Eddie… Stay with me…”

  Eddie’s eyes opened narrowly. The sky above was grey. Black clouds hovered. It was a dismal scene.

  “Keep talking to me, Derek…” Eddie feebly requested. “Keep me awake…”

  That’s what he needed. Constant interaction. Constant keeping him conscious, keeping him stimulated, ensuring he did not drop off.

  “Erm… I missed you,” Derek admitted.

  Eddie felt a smile appear on his face and disappear under its weight almost as quickly.

  “I missed you too, man.”

  “Where were you? I mean, how could you not find us?”

  “I don’t know…”

  Eddie fell away for a moment, then suddenly became alert once again.

  “Jenny. She, erm… she died believing in you.”

  “Jenny…?”

  In his messy state, Eddie suddenly thought she was nearby, then realised she was not.

  “She died trying to get through to you. She never stopped believing, even when I did. She kept going, kept trying to get through to you. She wouldn’t back down.”

  “Jenny…”

  “I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you like she did. If I did, then…”

  Eddie tried to shake his head, unsure whether he had or not.

  “You had to… you had to do what… you could…”

  “I was just stuck, trying to figure out what to do with you gone. I spent so much time teaching you, I never realised, you were the one teaching me.”

  Heavy steps grew louder, and for a fleeting moment, Eddie thought that the heir was back.

  “It’s Cassy and Martin,” Derek declared. “They are here, they are b
ack.”

  Eddie tried to lift his head.

  “Rest,” came a woman’s voice. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

  He didn’t understand whose voice it could be.

  Then it hit him.

  Cassy. He had never heard her adult voice. Her angelic voice.

  He owed her so much.

  “Cassy…” he tried. “Thank you…”

  “What do we do now, Eddie?” came a shaky, younger voice echoing in his ears.

  “Martin…”

  “I’m here.”

  “You have one more thing to do.”

  “What is it?”

  Eddie turned his head toward him, allowing it to slump on its side, unable to hold its weight.

  “You have to kill me.”

  “What?”

  Martin’s eyes filled with terror. “How am I meant to kill Edward King?”

  “One more thing you need to do,” Eddie told Martin. “Then you are free. Free to live your life.”

  “But why me?”

  “Then Cassy…” Eddie feebly mustered.

  “I’m here.”

  “Grab onto me. Take me to heaven.”

  “What?”

  “The devil will do all he can. He’ll be ready. He and his legions of hell will be ready. You need to grab onto me and don’t let go.”

  “But, Eddie… I’ve been banished from heaven. And you killed Kelly… We both have…”

  “But then the devil w–”

  His head flopped. His eyes closed.

  A familiar set of soft hands clutched onto his arms.

  He could see nothing. Sounds grew fainter.

  It felt like a while, but eventually, he felt it.

  A sudden stab in the centre of his chest.

  “Where is our God now…” the disappointed, solemn voice of Cassy whispered from afar.

  Then he heard nothing more.

  61

  Martin collapsed into the chair beside Derek’s bed. The life machine beeped a rhythmic pulse. Derek’s leg was held up in plaster, as was his arm, and various tubes went in and out of his body.

  The doctors had said Derek was lucky to be alive. That the pain of his broken arm and broken leg was not only intense enough to render him unconscious, his head had shown severe signs of concussion and his body had taken such a beating they were hesitant to let him off the machines any time soon.