The Incubus, Succubus and Son of Perdition Box Set: The Len du Randt Bundle

by Len du Randt

  ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Trevor shouted louder, retreating to get away from the approaching zombies. He came to an abrupt halt when he struck something behind him. He spun around and saw a half-charred Norman staring at him. There was no more life in his eyes. Only death. Death and vengeance.

  You killed me too, Norman said and grabbed hold of Trevor’s arm.

  ‘No,’ Trevor protested. ‘Let me go!’

  ‘Wake up, Trevor,’ René said. She could see that he was troubled, and gently tugged his arm.

  ‘Let me go!’ Trevor screamed and yanked his arm away from her. He sat up straight and breathed heavily.

  ‘Are you okay?’ René asked.

  ‘René?’ Trevor’s eyes darted about the room and he wiped away sweat from his forehead. ‘I’m okay,’ he said. ‘Bad dream, that’s all.’

  ‘Trev,’ René whispered. ‘There’s someone at the door.’

  ‘What time is it?’ he asked.

  ‘Three A.M.’

  ‘Are you sure you heard right?’ he asked. A loud knock on the front door answered the question for her. She nodded and gave way as he moved toward the door.

  ‘Who is it?’ Trevor asked.

  ‘It’s Andrew,’ a muffled voice came from the other side. ‘I need to speak to you.’

  ‘Just hang on a moment,’ Trevor said. He walked to the bathroom and brushed his hair so that it looked somewhat more presentable. He drank some water and splashed his face. He then opened the door and wanted his greeting to be blunt enough to show Andrew that there were limits to his hospitality, but the eyes that met his were filled with anxiety and fear. ‘What’s the matter, bud?’ Trevor asked.

  ‘We missed it, Trev,’ Andrew said as he entered the apartment. Trevor closed the door behind him. Andrew’s voice was almost lowered to a whisper, his eyes darting around nervously as he spoke. ‘I cannot believe it. We actually missed it. We were warned but we didn’t listen, so we missed it.’

  ‘Missed what?’ Trevor asked, wondering what on Earth could have spooked his friend like this.

  Andrew pulled Trevor closer; almost too close for Trevor’s comfort zone. ‘The Rapture, Trev,’ he whispered. ‘We missed the Rapture!’

  - - -* * *- - -

  It took a while for Andrew to calm down. He slowly sipped on some hot chocolate that Trevor prepared for them. René didn’t bother joining them, and went to bed instead. She had no intention of her day starting this early.

  ‘All right,’ Trevor said calmly. He noticed that Andrew’s hands were still shaking, and he looked afraid. ‘What’s going on, bud? What rattled you like this?’

  Andrew took another sip and breathed deeply. His foot tapped uncontrollably, and he had a hard time structuring his thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak, and then paused.

  ‘Andy,’ Trevor said softly and waited until they made eye contact. ‘It’s okay. Take your time.’

  ‘Time...’ Andrew said while shaking his head. ‘Time is something we do not have.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Andrew was visibly disorientated, even slightly irritated. ‘We missed the Rapture, Trev, and now we will have to go through the Tribulation period in which the Antichrist will rise up and kill us. He’ll kill us all.’

  ‘Whoa there, Andy,’ Trevor said, trying to keep his voice as nonthreatening as possible, ‘I don’t speak Christianese, remember?’

  Andrew forced a faint smile. ‘Think about it: the Rise of the Antichrist compared to the Rise of Victor; The Mark of the Beast...’

  Andrew’s voice had dropped to a rasp whisper, and he continued moving his lips after he had spoken.

  ‘The Mark of the Beast?’ Trevor asked, trying his best to suppress the impatient tone in his voice.

  ‘The Shield of Victor,’ Andrew said and wiped his forehead. ‘The Shield of Victor is the Mark of the Beast...’

  Trevor was worried. He had never seen his friend like this before. ‘Andy...’

  ‘The European Empire,’ Andrew interrupted. ‘It’s the ‘Revised Roman Empire,’ don’t you see?’

  Trevor just shook his head. This wasn’t the time or place to have a debate, and he wondered how long ago Andrew had any real sleep. ‘Are you on drugs?’

  ‘Drugs?’ Andrew asked, looking at Trevor as if he was a dog that had just been beaten for no reason. ‘Do you think I’m on drugs?’

  ‘I don’t know what to think, bud, and you’re not giving me much to work with here.’

  ‘I’m talking about the end times; about the rise and reign of a coming world dictator that would make Hitler look like a Sunday school teacher.’

  ‘People are just too intelligent these days, Andy. The civilized world of today wouldn’t fall for another dictatorship.’ Trevor sighed. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think that you might be a bit overstressed. Maybe you need some time to get away from it all?’

  ‘Over-stressed is putting it mildly.’

  ‘Well, there you have it. Why don’t you go to your parent’s place for a week or so?’

  Andrew thought about it. ‘That’s not a bad idea,’ he said. ‘They know about the Mark and the Rapture. I’d like to hear their opinions on it.’

  ‘That’s not entirely what I meant, but in the end it doesn’t really matter what your motivations are; just as long as you get away from here for a while.’

  ‘Thanks, Trev,’ Andrew said and got up. ‘I think I’ll fly over there tomorrow. Time is of the utmost importance.’

  They walked to the door and as Andrew left, Trevor suddenly remembered something. ‘Your finger,’ he said, pointing at his own. ‘You still wanted to show me.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Andrew said, ‘It’s heal—’

  He kept quiet and investigated his finger. He clenched his hand into a fist, and then pressed his one hand on top of the other. ‘It was healed,’ he said, bewildered. ‘I promise.’

  ‘It’s not healed anymore?’

  ‘No,’ Andrew said, and held up his finger for Trevor to see. He suddenly feared that Trevor might think that he was losing his mind. ‘It was fine, though. It really was.’

  ‘But now it’s not.’

  Andrew shook his head. ‘It must have been ‘unhealed’ somehow. Maybe when I was exposed to the truth. Yes. That’s it! It must be...’

  ‘I’m sure you thought that Arch Bishop Pascale—’

  ‘Antonio!’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Antonio Pascale!’ Andrew’s eyes began shooting around wildly again.

  ‘You need sleep, dude.’

  ‘He’s the false prophet! Don’t you see it?’

  ‘Dude, I need sleep,’ Trevor said and lightly nudged Andrew to move. Andrew caught the hint and began walking, then stopped. He waited for Trevor until they made eye contact.

  ‘There are no aliens, you know,’ he said, ‘They’re all demons.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ Trevor said. He hated it when people linked everyday things to ‘demons.’ Norman used to do it all too frequently. ‘Now promise me that you’ll get some rest, okay?’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Andrew said as he started his descent down the steps.

  - - -* * *- - -

  ‘What on Earth was that all about?’ René asked Trevor as he walked back to his room.

  ‘I’m not entirely sure,’ he said. ‘But they’re all demons.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Exactly! I didn’t know what he was talking about most of the time.’

  ‘Is he...okay?’

  ‘I think so,’ Trevor said. ‘I just think that he just needs some time off, that’s all.’

  They both returned to their own beds, trying to make the most of their last hour’s worth of sleep before their alarm clocks would wake them for work.

  - - -* * *- - -

  Andrew stopped short before he got to his car. It was early morning, and soon, people would start waking up to go to work. It was still dark, and the chilled wind bit at the tip of his nose like a restless shark taking an occasional bite o
ut of its prey. He looked up at Trevor’s apartment and saw the light go off. He wished that he could be at home right now, snuggled warmly underneath a duvet. He wished that everything could be the way it was, but knew that it would never be that way again.

  ‘Where are you?’ he asked, seemingly to no one. There was no reply. ‘Where are you?’ he asked again, raising his voice somewhat and sounding agitated.

  Still no reply.

  ‘Show yourself, Alistair!’ he yelled and kicked his car door. ‘You got me into this mess!’

  ‘It was still your choice,’ a soft voice replied from the opposite side of the car.

  ‘There you are...’ Andrew choked. He felt strangely comforted, yet, still very much alone. ‘Trevor thinks I’m crazy, and I’m not even sure myself that I’m all right up there. Just how real are you, anyway?’

  ‘You’re fine, Andrew,’ Alistair said calmly, ‘but you have to remember that they are still very much blinded from the truth, just like you were.’

  ‘Will they ever see the truth before it is too late?’

  ‘The truth shall be revealed to all at the right moment; yet, many shall still embrace the darkness.’

  ‘And Trevor? What about him?’

  ‘I have no knowledge of how the people will react to the truth. I am merely a messenger.’

  ‘Why me?’ Andrew asked. ‘Why did the Lord make me see before the others?’

  ‘Because you chose to search for the truth despite what you have been told. You remained strong, and the Lord has chosen you so that the rest has prayer backing for when that day of revelation comes.’

  ‘I don’t know if I could handle it...’

  ‘You will never be tested beyond what you can handle. Rely on the Lord, and keep on praying for the others.’ Alistair took a step back into the shadows, and a second later, Andrew found himself alone again.

  - - -* * *- - -

  It was early afternoon when Andrew woke up. After he arrived home from Trevor’s place, he only wanted to lie down for a few minutes, and instead, fell asleep for several hours. He walked to the fridge, opened it, and scanned the content with his eyes. He wasn’t hungry, but wanted something to bite into.

  ‘Nothing,’ he murmured and closed the fridge. ‘Just wonderful.’

  He washed his face and brushed his hair and felt a bit better, but not a whole lot. He then picked up the phone and then made the long distance call to his parents in New Zealand.

  ‘Hey mom,’ Andrew said and almost cried when he heard her voice again.

  ‘I’m fine thanks, and you?’ He listened to her voice as she spoke, and longed to be with them. ‘And dad?’ he asked. ‘Is he still on about the incident with the car?’ He chuckled when she confirmed. If there had been any doubt to go over and be with them for a while, it had just been totally removed. ‘The reason I’m calling,’ he said, ‘is because I wanted to know if it would be okay with you two that I came over for a few days. I won’t be in the way, I promise.’

  He had to hold the earpiece slightly away from his ear as an excited, high-pitched shriek confirmed. ‘No, don’t make a fuss about it. It’ll only be for a couple of days. Yes, the business will be fine, don’t worry about it. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow or so. I love you too. Bye.’

  He replaced the receiver, instantly grateful that he had followed Trevor’s advice to go. Maybe his friend was right. Maybe all he needed was a few days away from it all. He picked up the phone again, and dialled a number from one of his business cards.

  ‘Hello, I would like to book a return ticket to New Zealand.’

  He waited as the woman at the other end of the line hacked away at her terminal.

  ‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘Single.’

  She hacked some more.

  ‘I would like to fly tonight still, if that would at all be possible, and come back, say, next week Friday.’

  They finalized arrangements, and he hung up after noting down his reference number. He had enough time for a quick shower, to pack, to make a few calls and arrange for everything to be taken care of whilst he was gone.

  He liked being at the airport earlier than required. Just in case. He found airports intimidating; no matter how often he flew. Andrew switched on the television, more for white noise than anything else, and caught himself channel hopping. No time for this, he thought, but a familiar face made him freeze on the spot.

  ‘Arch Bishop Pascale and the European Empire’s President are set to meet for the first time. The meeting will be held publicly at the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem tomorrow morning where Arch Bishop Pascale will make a formal public announcement. No one knows yet what the announcement will be about, but the country is expectantly preparing for Mr. Yoshe’s arrival.’

  Andrew looked at his finger and rolled his hand into a fist. It’s happening, he thought to himself as a sense of reality and fear crept down his spine. It’s actually happening...

  - - -* * *- - -

  ‘You again,’ the older prophet said as the teenager made his way up the steps to where they were sitting.

  ‘You can’t...’ Timothy said and stopped to catch his breath. ‘You can’t get rid of me that easily.’

  ‘That wasn’t our intention,’ the younger prophet replied.

  ‘That’s okay,’ Timothy said and smiled. ‘At least you didn’t toast me.’

  ‘Harm only comes to those who try to harm us,’ the bearded man replied. ‘What is it that you seek, young one?’

  ‘Please,’ Timothy said, ‘the stench in this country is awful, and people everywhere are losing their minds, becoming very ill; and some are even dying. I come now, in peace, and ask you to please turn the blood back to water.’

  Both men frowned.

  Timothy waited.

  The older prophet stroked his beard in deep thought. Eventually he stared Timothy right in the eyes. ‘Very well,’ he said, ‘if that is what you wish.’

  ‘It is,’ Timothy said without hesitation.

  ‘Then it is so,’ the younger prophet said and nodded.

  Timothy looked around. The dried blood still stained everything as far as the eye could see, but where there were fountains, he could see crystal clear water. Somewhere in the distance, a few cheers could be heard as relieved citizens of Jerusalem rejoiced and drank as much water as they were able to physically manage. Timothy opened his backpack, removed a flask from it, and opened it and again without inspecting the content, gulped down the water that filled his mouth.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said finally. ‘Compassion is always a good trait.’

  The older prophet nodded and motioned for Timothy to sit down with them.

  ‘Why is it that you listen to me, a mere boy, but others, religious elders even, you blatantly ignore?’

  ‘Because you ask with humility,’ the younger prophet answered, ‘and not from your own selfish needs and desires. Humility is quite a good trait indeed.’

  ‘How long are you going to keep this up?’ Timothy asked.

  ‘For as long as the Father permits.’ The older prophet answered. ‘Our quest will be to reunite the hearts of fathers and sons.’

  ‘Even if your method brings forth hate and death?’

  ‘We are merely instruments.’

  ‘For what purpose?’

  The elder man held Timothy’s gaze. ‘To shine a light in a very dark world.’

  ‘I don’t get it.’

  ‘When the time is right, you will.’

  ‘And who were you talking about when you said that someone was going to turn against me?’

  ‘Your own will turn against you soon. You must not fear them, for the Most High will protect you.’

  Timothy sighed. ‘My own?’

  ‘Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the Earth,’ the older man said. ‘I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to turn a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. A man’s enemies will be the members of his
own household.’

  ‘More of that...Jesus stuff,’ Timothy said cautiously. ‘Didn’t he say something like that?’

  The younger prophet nodded.

  ‘My sister used to sit next to a missionary’s daughter in class. She learnt that scripture from her, and I overheard it when she used it on my father.’

  ‘She was a very wise and brave girl,’ the older prophet said.

  Timothy nodded. He was intrigued by these men. They had the power of miracles to back their claims, and didn’t seem to want to harm anyone. They just wanted to teach everyone some sort of lesson; a lesson that he still had to grasp.

  He finally looked up at the two men. ‘Tell me more,’ he said. ‘Teach me about this Jesus.’

  - - -* * *- - -

  Benny lowered his rifle. The glass of blood next to him, which served as motivation to pull the trigger, was now crystal clear water. Strictly speaking, he now had no obligation to dispose of them—or die, whichever came first—until his contractors would call him with new reasons, that is.

  He used his high-powered binoculars to study the face of the teenager that was sitting with the men. Should this teen befriend the two men, he could use him as bait to lure them toward a trap. He flipped open his blood-stained cell phone and dialled a number.

  ‘It’s me,’ he said. He listened to the speaker on the other side. ‘So should I stand down for now?’ The speaker on the other end of the line confirmed. ‘That’s fine,’ he said, ‘but I still expect payment.’ He clicked his cell phone shut and started unscrewing the barrel of his rifle. A few seconds later, there was no trace of him ever being there, except for the now empty glass.

  - - -* * *- - -

  The crowd gathering at the Mount of Olives turned out to be more than expected. Certain barricades were set up around the stage to prevent people from storming the two men that were to speak from the podium. No one had an idea about what either wanted to say, but seeing both Antonio Pascale and Victor Yoshe together live in public is something that no one was really prepared to miss out on.