by Brad Kelln
Serve me and die.
"Non," Messier managed and then he rolled out from under Wa and ran for the small patio door. He jumped onto the deck and spun back to the apartment. Near the couch he could see the monster watching him, smiling at him. It made Messier's stomach twist. The thing wasn't human.
Jump, a voice told him. It came from all around him. Jump.
"Leave me alone," he grimaced and backed up against the rail. The mon- ster had started towards him now.
"No," Messier cried. He looked back over the railing. He was only five floors up but he was directly over a busy asphalt roadway. He looked back into the apartment. The creature was almost at the patio doors.
"Stay away!" Messier shouted.
And then Wa held up a piece of paper. Messier could just make out the handwriting. The note Wa was holding was a confession written in his own handwriting. And then the creature starting laughing in a high pitched wail. The noise was so disturbing that Messier tried to move further back against the railing. Somehow he lost his balance and flipped over the side. He only just managed to stop himself by grabbing the iron railing.
The laughing stopped. Messier tried to lift himself up high enough to see back into the apartment. As he came up eye level to the deck he saw Wa's feet. Wa was standing out on the patio.
And then there was pain. Wa was using his foot to press on Messier's fingers. Messier knew he was going to die. He knew he was going to die with a signed confession in his apartment and without having testified against
Mitchell Wa for police brutality.
And then he fell. From somewhere above the falling body a high- pitched, keening laughter was heard again.
EPILOGUE
THREE MONTHS LATER
The staff turnover at the Maximum Security Psychiatric Centre was high. It took a special breed of clinician to work in an area where the clients were both severely psychologically disturbed and violent offenders. As a result, orientation for new staff was almost a weekly occurrence, especially with the staff of over fifty nurses working round the clock shifts.
In the back unit of South Bay, the unit housing the long-term Not Criminally Responsible population, Greg Casey was running through the patient list with fellow nurse and new recruit Tina Major.
"Next on our list is Gary Wrightland. He was the pastor that lost it and ended up killing some guy. Stabbed the victim in the throat with a knife. When he first came to us he was still really crazy. He was talking about the Antichrist coming to the earth and how he had a chance to stop it but he made a mistake. I never got the full story."
"That wasn't that long ago, was it?" Tina asked.
"Not really. The case went through the courts pretty quick. It was pretty obvious that Wrightland was sick."
"Is he any better now?"
Gary sighed. "Well he's taking his meds but he hasn't really responded too well. He's quieter, keeps to himself, but if you push him he'll still tell you that he has to prevent Satan from taking over the world. Pretty sad."
"Who's his doc?"
"Georgia. She's with him right now. Working on the guy's insight, as always."
***
"So Gary," Dr. Georgia O'Connors continued, "where are we at with the whole issue about your diagnosis?"
Gary shrugged. He'd reluctantly come down to one of the interview rooms after Dr. O'Connors had awoken him. He preferred to sleep away his time finding it unbearable to try and interact with the co-clients. He found these weekly sessions with Dr. O'Connors to be a ridiculous waste of time.
"Oh I know I have schizophrenia, doctor. I need medication to stay well."
She frowned. "You're just paying me lip service. I want to have a real conversation with you. You obviously don't believe in the diagnosis and we need to talk about it."
Gary didn't respond.
"Tell me again," Dr. O'Connors finally said. "What happened? Did you believe you were sent here by God to protect the world?"
He snorted. "I've never said that. I've destroyed the world. I've given birth to the Antichrist"
"What'd you say then? Tell me." She leaned forward, trying to encourage his response. "Talk to me."
"You won't understand. You're mind can't hear and your eyes can't see. The Antichrist has entered the world. I opened the door. I am the Watcher. Sons will attack their fathers and mothers will murder their families. Only those without sin can escape and none are without sin. The Antichrist will draw the blackness out and force people to confront their existence. He will bring them to his service."
"But what's this got to do with you?"
He shook his head. "I tried to stop it. I tried!" He started to sob in heav- ing bursts. "It's all my fault."
"What did the victim, Nick Stangos, have to do with this?"
Gary shook his head sadly. "Nothing. I knew it was Mitchell Wa. After I saw him in my church I knew. It was him that I wanted. It was Mitchell Wa that should have died. I needed to kill him, but Wenton stopped me."
"Michael Wenton," she said nodding.
"Yes. He knocked my arm away and then Nick tackled me to the floor. I never meant for Nick to get hurt. He jumped on me and the knife just came up and caught him."
"Okay."
"You don't believe me."
"You have a mental illness, Gary. I want to help you get better."
"You need to let me go. I can't be locked up."
"Why? Where is the Antichrist now?"
"I don't know. Maybe still in Wa, maybe on the loose."
Dr. O'Connors smiled. "So what would you do if you were back in the community right now?"
"There is more in the Convergence Scrolls. I know what it means now. I know what it was telling me. There is another who must bring balance to the world. The tainted heart of God's hand. I know who that is."
"Who is it?" Dr. O'Connors asked, legitimately interested.
Gary smiled.
"You're not going to tell me," she asked.
"I can't," he said. "Besides, you'd never believe me, and I don't have much credibility as a mental patient, anyway."
Dr. O'Connors watched him for a moment longer, then stood. "Okay then. I guess we'll call it a day. It disappoints me that you don't trust me enough to tell me who's going to save the world, but we'll pick it up again next week."
Gary nodded.
"Okay, see you next week," she said as she stepped out of the interview room.
Gary watched her leave.
You'd never believe, he thought, that the person destined to restore balance is Michael Wenton.
THE END
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