Demon Gate: Beyond the 9th Circle: The Rapture Was Just The Beginning.

by Heath, Joel

  Chapter 7 – Gathering of the Four Light continued to fill the air, growing brighter.

  “Don’t look back,” Gretchen warned. “Run for cover.”

  The only option was a series of buildings located only fifty feet distant.

  Spencer was concerned for Gretchen as they ran; wrapping an arm across her shoulder, Spencer did his best to support Gretchen as they took cover behind a building on the north side of the Brooklyn Queens Expressway. Seconds later the nuclear blast wave ripped though Queens blowing windows out and otherwise causing very major damage at four miles from ground zero.

  After the blast wave passed, it was time to get moving. They still needed to keep going to keep exposure to radioactive dust to a minimum.

  “We need to get to LaGuardia, there maybe a plane we can use.” Spencer suggested.

  “With the fallout that’s sure to be coming we won’t make it far with out wheels.” Jessie commented searching the immediate area to find that the roads were mostly clear so they looked toward a nearby parking lot for some

  transportation. The first vehicle they came to was a 2021 Chevy Silverado.

  Jessie climbed in.

  “Great, no keys.” Jessie said.

  “Then move over.” Vince said.

  “Didn’t you hear me?” Jessie asked.

  “Of course I did, so I’ll hotwire the damn thing.” Vince retorted as he sat down and reached under the dash and pulled off the steering wheel cover and found the wires that led to the ignition, in no time the truck was running.

  “Hop in, that dust cloud will be here soon.” Vince said.

  Spencer, Gretchen and Jessie climbed in, Vince shifted into drive and slammed on the gas pedal, smashing through the gate and turning right and then left eventually passing under the Brooklyn Bridge before turning on to Old Fulton Street. Vince continued navigating the nearly abandoned streets, dodging derelict cars before getting onto I-278, which practically took them to the front doors of LaGuardia Airport.

  On the approach a large aircraft could be seen, it was Air Force One.

  “Looks like the President never made it out.” Jessie commented as everybody emerged from the truck.

  “Can you fly that thing, Vince?” Vince asked.

  “It’s no Raptor, but … we’ll see what happens.” Vince remarked.

  “Then let’s get onboard and get airborne.” Spencer said heading for the terminal.

  Spencer pulled the terminal door open and found the terminal quiet, a little too quiet. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. There was no creaking, no normal building noises. It was almost like there was something dampening the atmosphere in here. It didn’t register until it was almost too late.

  A small winged demon swooped down from the ceiling, shrieking like a banshee heading straight for Jessie. She dodged taking only a gash in the upper arm, within seconds three celestial swords were lighting up the terminal.

  The demon remained aloft fifteen feet off the ground, the calm before the next attack. Then a light appeared above the demon and fell toward the ground, a sword pierced the demon’s back and pinned it to the ground. The demon turned to dust and then the light faded as Michael stood in its place.

  “Michael!” Spencer called.

  “Well done, Spencer. The Prince has been killed,” Michael said but frowned. “But the four horsemen are converging on Satan’s earthly castle; we managed to find the first one, it’s in Berlin and will be leaving tomorrow at noon.” Michael explained.

  “What are they gathering for?”

  Michael solemnly shook his head. “I don’t have that answer. If he is planning to attack Heaven then he could be close to launching his attack.”

  “Summoning his generals?” Jessie suggested.

  “If that is the case, then time is short.” Michael commented.

  “Do you think Air Force One could get us there?” Spencer asked.

  “Assuming the engines will start, yes.” Vince replied before leading the way to the exit. The group looked through the window to the abandoned plane that once carried the leader of the free world.

  Vince disappeared out onto the tarmac with the group on his heels, as they headed to the plane. Spencer was about to follow but Michael stopped him and pulled him aside.

  “I have to go, but I will try to see you before you fight Satan if I am able.”

  “Thank you for all you’ve done,” Spencer said and Michael nodded, then vanished in a flash of light.

  After three hours of pouring over the inner workings of Air Force One, the plane was ready to start. Vince went to the front where Spencer, Gretchen and Jessie were checking the cockpit.

  “Alright, take a seat; I’m going to fire up the engines so we can go.” Vince said sitting down in the pilot’s seat and strapped in. White fingers with ragged nails hovered over the switches for the engines and flipped them all into the on position, then he pushed the throttle forward causing the plane to move ahead. Vince steered Air Force One to the west end of the runway before reducing throttle and turning around. Pushing the throttle forward, Air Force One sped east down the runway picking up speed as it went until the end of the runway before lifting heavily off to the sky.

  Air Force One climbed up to the sky leaving the ground and the evils of Lucifer’s ‘recruiting’ campaign behind.

  The plane leveled off as it reached 35,000 feet, so Vince switched on the intercom. “We’re on our way to Germany; we should be landing in Berlin in about seven hours, get comfortable.” Vince switched off the intercom and focused on piloting the aircraft.

  They stared out the forward window as the sun started to peek over the German

  landscape below.

  The landing in Berlin was rough, fortunately the runway was clear.

  “I always wanted to travel; too bad it had to come after the world ended.” Vince

  commented as they disembarked from the plane. They secured it as well as they could, all in hopes they would be making a return journey. Because they may be rushing from hell hounds when they left, they all worked on refueling and having the plane totally ready for airborne status.

  Staring across the vacant Brandenburg Airport there was an odd feeling in the air, not just cold, but tingly. There were no snow capped mountains, no tall buildings, just the airport.

  “Let’s find a car; I want to be able to leave when the first horseman shows up, I don’t want to lose him.” Spencer ordered.

  “Maybe we should stop and get

  something to eat first; we haven’t had a decent meal since Utah.” Vince suggested and Spencer agreed. A supply of MRE’s found onboard Air Force One was the worst and only option for food. Not that they minded any more. The only trouble was building a fire to make the food more palatable. A rain storm had recently passed through and soaked anything that would burn, anything that would burn could only be found in the terminal. Then they needed a mode of transportation.

  After a forced meal of some nearly unidentifiable food substitute, Spencer was able to locate a car near the street that had a half ofa tank of gas. It was an old Volkswagen that might as well have been held together with cheap duct tape and twine and the inside reeked of mold. Everybody grudgingly climbed in.

  “This isn’t going to get us very far.” Spencer realized.

  “It doesn’t have to look pretty, it just has to run.” Jessie said then noticed the ignition was a mess, but found a screwdriver, and inserting the screwdriver Jessie turned it and the engine started easily. Spencer sighed in relief, the car was deceptively reliable, at least Spencer thought so until the engine sputtered to a stop.

  “So, this is good old German

  engineering?” Vince asked.

  “I don’t see any other choices, Vince.” Jessie chided

  “This thing is a giant paper weight.” Vince cried.

  At that moment Spencer’s ears picked up the faintest clacking sound he had ever imagined, it almost sounded like hoof beats.


  “Quiet, all of you!” Spencer called authoritatively then listened closer. Yes, it was definitely the pounding hooves of a horse riding down the street at a full gallop.

  “Jessie, try it again.” Spencer urged.

  Jessie cranked the screwdriver again and the engine came to life, Jessie shifted the car into gear and hit the gas.

  as they were pulling out onto the street, a man passed them heading south, riding on a white horse with a red cape fluttered behind him. They were all slightly surprised to see a crown atop his head, a bow in his left hand and a sword at his side.

  Staying with the horseman was not even a close challenge even though the old car was doing forty-five miles per hour with the gas pedal on the floor. The supernatural horse and rider were streaking ahead of them.

  The road left the city and stretched out along the German countryside passing countless trees and hundred of signs that Spencer couldn’t hope to read.

  The landscape zipped by as nothing more than a blur as the old car struggled to follow the man on the white horse.

  As the car neared Nuremberg the car’s gas gauge dipped to an eighth of a tank; their fuel was running out.

  “Can we make it with the fuel we have left?” Spencer asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Jessie confessed, “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  Spencer watched the gas gauge like a hawk, expecting the car to expend its fuel any second. Soon the low fuel light turned on and Spencer began to worry about running out of fuel, and never being able to find the secret castle, and then their hopes of defeating Satan would be dashed.

  Fear turned to reality as the car choked, signaling the end of this portion of their sacred quest. The engine died, though they still had enough momentum to coast another quarter mile. The coasting stopped near a sign indicating Munich was less than a hundred kilometers away, but it made little difference. The first horseman was riding away and they had no other trail to follow.

  Spencer got out of the car and forcefully placed a foot into the front right tire of the Volkswagen, and then he saw it, about fifty meters away. It was an insignificant group of small buildings, some houses, sheds, and a barn or two.

  Spencer raced for the buildings hoping there would be some horses, a bicycle or something that would allow them to head out after the horseman as soon as possible so they might pick up clues or following the hoof marks or something. Jessie stayed with Gretchen while Vince got out and ran after Spencer.

  Reaching a barn, Spencer pulled one of the doors open. There was a lot of hay; most of it was in haystacks more than seven feet high, but a single object protruded from one stack of withered hay, it was a wheel for some sort of old vehicle.

  “Help me clear this hay.” Spencer requested and they went to work pushing the hay this way and that until a pair of motorcycles stood among the mat of hay that now covered the barn floor, each one with a sidecar, the

  motorcycles looked to be in good condition, so Spencer climbed onto one and tried to start it. The first time the motor didn’t turn over, but the second time it came to life. Vince tried the second bike and, eventually it too started.

  “Vince, let’s go, we might be able to find him. This is sure better than a peddle bike.” Spencer and Vince rode out to the car where Gretchen and Jessie waited to pick them up. They stashed a day’s worth of MRE’s and water and Spencer’s sword in the sidecars—divided equally. Then Spencer and Vince hit the gas, and sped down the road toward Munich, chasing after the white horseman.

  The road cut a swath through Munich before diverting to a minor road that headed into the Bavarian Alps. The pale rider was finally within sight again. Had he slowed down to allow them to catch up?

  The minor road turned to country road near the towns of Wattens and Volders. The road continued on for another few miles before turning southwest and heading deeper into the mountains. Finally, turning off the road onto what may have been a driveway they switch backed up the left flank of a dam. The driveway continued around the perimeter of a lake before reaching the south end of the water and

  continuing the climb toward the summit to the south. There was one final stretched of road that almost went unnoticed, it went into a valley on the other side of the summit. The horseman stopped at the summit. That’s when Spencer noticed a storm that was building strength, a lightning strike lit up the sky for a brief second.

  At the other side of the summit, enclosed in a canyon of grey stone, there was a castle built from dark grey granite. The cold grey stone was likely hauled in from a distant quarry nearly a century earlier, there was a moat encircling the castle and a draw bridge that crossing the muddy water. Beyond the moat there was a courtyard leading up to the main castle. The courtyard was covered in cobblestone that ended at two rounded stairs which converged before the massive double doors which stood closed, barring entry into the castle.

  As Spencer crossed the threshold into the castle’s courtyard the sound of his footsteps seemed hollow. Come to think of it, all the sounds since we first saw the horseman seem hollow and devoid of any resonance, even the hoof beats from that nightmare of a horse. It sounded almost as though they all were listening through water in a thin metal pan. Glancing down to the moat, he noticed the water was really a dark red color. Not mud, it was filled with blood.

  A single sound rang out about all others, the sound of a hiss.

  “Spencer, I bid you welcome to my Master’s Castle.” A dark and threatening voice said; a voice that seemed eerily familiar.

  “Where are you?” Spencer shouted, “Show yourself.”

  “In time, I don’t think you should rush into your fate.” The voice called.

  Spencer swallowed as though it were his fear, but more built up in his throat.

  “My fate?” Spencer asked trying to draw out an elaboration. He then noticed a tall humanlike figure sitting atop the wall that encircled the courtyard; the figure had dark blue skin, a long forked tail, yellow eyes and dark hair. Its hands were clenched around a pair of swords similar to the weapons held by the hive queens, except a full foot longer.

  The figure leapt from the huge height of the wall and came to rest on the ground, dropping down to one knee while placing a closed fist to the courtyard floor. Gretchen, Vince and Jessie called their weapons into battle; Spencer reached behind his back and drew his blade.

  “You have all been deemed expendable, and therefore, must die.” The figure declared, glancing up at Spencer and company.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t

  Nightcrawler!” Spencer exclaimed trying to mask his concern over the imminent fight, a fight Spencer feared would be a tough victory, if victory was even achievable.

  The figure stood and got into a fighting stance, one sword standing ready to strike and the other guarded his core.

  All at once, all four survivors rushed the demon, but with a butterfly kick, the attack was deflected and he moved to safety. He wasn’t going to fight them all at once. A long finger pointed at Spencer. The demon was going to fight and kill them one at a time.

  Spencer approached holding his blade up to guard against a sneak attack. Spencer closed to within striking distance and then the demon took the first strike, testing Spencer’s reflexes. Spencer parried the attack.

  The demon’s face seemed maddeningly familiar, but he just couldn’t place it. The demon abandoned testing Spencer and began

  continuously striking at the human trying to back him into a wall, but Spencer knew better than that, evading one such strike he slipped around the demon to strike from behind but the demon quickly turned and blocked the attack.

  Vince, Jessie and Gretchen were helpless to do anything, forced to watch, hoping that a window would open that would allow them to join the fight. Praying it would not be too late.

  Spencer deflected another attack, swiped his sword downward and used the momentary distraction to strike at the demon, but not with his sword. In a calculated move, he moved in close. Spencer placed a well-aimed fis
t across the demon’s cheek, then grabbed the demon’s hair with his free hand. Then Spencer pulled the demon’s face into his knee and pushed it over. Spencer raised his sword to finish the fiend when the demon raised its hand.

  “Spencer, stop.” The demon pled, “It’s me, Rodney.”

  Spencer tried to ignore the pleas, but curiosity won out.

  “How do I know you are Rodney?” Spencer challenged.

  “I…can’t prove it, but, when Halley’s plane went down outside of Newark I left. It was not even an hour before I ran into Lucifer; he promised that I could see Halley again if I joined him.”

  “You loved her, didn’t you?” Spencer asked while Gretchen, Jessie and Vince drew near seeing the battle was over and something unusual was going on.

  “Yes,” Rodney confirmed “So I agreed to join him to get her back. He brought her to me, and when I tried to hold her, she…” Rodney stopped, both saddened and ashamed. “she was an illusion, as hollow and empty as his

  promises.”

  “Please, my soul might still be redeemed. You have to kill me, do it now.” Rodney pled. “The demon spirit is trying to take over, and when it does I won’t be able to stop myself from harming you.”

  Rodney briefly shrieked in anger, his demonic counterpart was quickly growing stronger as it realized what Rodney was planning.

  “DO IT!” Rodney shouted, more demonic than human, a tear escaped from his eye, a tear of regret; not for being deceived, but that he had betrayed the only one that could have had him reunited with Halley with no strings attached.

  “Please.” Rodney begged weakly just before the point of Vince’s sword pierced Rodney’s chest.

  The corruption in Rodney began to fight the purifying effect of Vince’s sword, and then Rodney stopped breathing and his lifeless body crumbled to ash.

  Spencer looked indignant at the door to the castle.

  “Let’s go finish this.” Spencer said before marching up to the door and pushing it open.

  Walking into the castle was like walking into another world, the floor, walls and ceiling were made of the blackest of obsidian. Hanging on the wall every six feet a torch hung on the wall with fire as black as night, and yet the hall was adequately illuminated, as though the torches were just for show and the light was emanating from an unseen source.