by Mark Ayre
“Yes,” said Eve. “I believe he is.”
“Then I can find him.”
“But you won’t.” Hattie again. “I can’t let you go. Please understand, I can’t.”
“Hattie,” said Eve. “I know this must be difficult, but—”
“No,” said Adam. “You don’t.”
He was looking at Hattie, that severe pain on her face, and wondering if this was how their mother had felt, watching them evade capture again and again—thinking one day soon the organisation would take them from her. It was hard to imagine. Didn’t mean it wasn’t so.
“We don’t have kids,” said Adam. “We could never understand.”
“We have each other.”
“And we’re consenting adults. It’s different. Delilah, I know you don’t like this but whether we’re calling you eight months or eight years you’re still a kid. A strong kid, an incredible kid, but a kid none the less. I’m not sure we can take this call from your mother.”
Eve was shaking her head. “Not in a perfect world, but this is far from that. Right now, we don’t have a choice. Hattie, we were about to walk into that vortex knowing we had a one in several million chance even of showing up in the right place. We might not be able to save the world, no matter what, but you have to see, just landing in the right location, shortens our odds by a long way. Having Delilah is not a want to have; it’s a need to have.”
“No, it’s not,” said Delilah. “It’s a meant to be.”
The roaring from the other side of the red room’s door intensified. The group turned to see two eight fingered hands shove through the barrier. Each finger ended in talon-like claws.
“You sure they won’t be coming through one every ten minutes forever?” said Doc
“Doubt it,” said Eve.
The beast screamed. The doorway was burning its skin, tearing it to shreds. Eve stepped to the red room but made no moves to destroy the incoming monster. Yet.
Adam said, “What do you mean, meant to be?”
Unfazed by the monster, determined to have her say, Delilah stood tall and puffed out her chest.
“I don’t know what our father is, or why he’s in some other world.”
“Human genius; created life in a non-conventional way; punished by a non-specific deity,” said Eve. “Sorry, go on.”
“Right well, what if this, uh, deetee?”
“Deity.”
“Daytee.”
“No,” said Eve, “it’s day-uh… oh just say God.”
Delilah nodded. “Right what if this God expected our father to return and wanted to stop him? So, like, he knows father will need nine children, and he works with that. Three of these children will be bad. Pandora and whoever the other one was who opened the door; and Lucy, who was just evil, right?”
“Mega evil,” agreed Ursula.
“Yeah, so, if you remove those and look at the other six: Noah and Cassandra saw what we’d be facing, and tried to help us stop it before it started. Because we didn’t stop it before it started, Adam and I can get us unharmed through the barrier and to where we need to go, and Eve and Graham, well they have strength. I think Graham will be able to protect Eve while she destroys their world and saves ours.”
They each stared at Delilah, frankly amazed.
“Sounds right to me,” said Doc.
Adam said, “But, this God, could he—”
“Or she,” Eve interrupted.
“Right. Could this God not simply wait until our father returned, then click his fingers—”
“Or her fingers.”
The monster’s howls of pain increased in intensity, becoming a scream as it collapsed onto the red floor.
“Is now the time for your corrections?” Adam asked.
“It’s always the time,” Eve said as the monster rose. A flick of the wrist and the creature was dissolving against the barrier, returning to its world in bits.
“My point,” said Adam, “is why would this God not simply destroy our father and our father’s armies upon their arrival?”
Delilah looked stumped by this, but only for a few seconds. Then she shrugged. “Gods are weird.”
Doc laughed. Eve, smiling, said, “I think the correct phrase is: he moves in mysterious ways.”
“Or she,” said Adam.
More screams. This time, six hands came through. Given the creatures to follow would not be human, it was impossible to say how many foes six hands might indicate.
“No more time,” said Eve. “We have to go.”
Delilah turned to her mother. “If I don’t do this, the whole world’s doomed, and I’ll die anyway. There’s nothing I can do once they reach this side. Let me do the right thing now.”
Ursula walked to Graham. “My boy, I guess there’s no way I can convince you not to go?”
Adam went to Doc, shook his hand. “Once we’re through, your best bet is to get out of the facility. Just because we’re on their side doesn’t mean the monsters will stop coming. You stay here; there’s a chance you’ll die even if we succeed.”
Doc smiled. “That a joke, bruv? I got a broken leg, Ursula took a bullet to hers. Omi’s a thousand. Only person here who’s in top shape is Hattie. You think she’ll skip while her daughter’s in this other world? No chance. Besides, what about Tameka and Noah?”
Graham was whining, resting his head on his mother’s shoulder as she held him tight. Hattie had burst into tears and grabbed her daughter.
Three monsters burst from the vortex; two with three arms, one with none. Eve dealt with the lot without complaint.
“I was going to ask you to get them on the way,” said Adam. Doc only gave him a look.
Delilah had dropped to her knees by Omi. The two whispered while Hattie wept above them. Graham had moved to join Eve by the door. Adam went to Ursula.
“You going to be alright?”
Ursula raised her shotgun. “I’ll be sitting on my arse, facing the red room. Any monster comes through; I’ll blow them away. I’ll be fine. You’re the one who’s going to die.”
“That’s nice.”
Ursula smiled, then a fearful look flitted across her face. “I’m afraid for my son if you fail,” she said. “I’m afraid for us both if we succeed. Been a long time since I’ve been out there in the real world.”
“I know how you feel,” said Adam. “I’ve spent my life running through the real world without ever really occupying it.”
“Adam,” called Eve. “We got to go.”
Adam nodded at his sister, returned to Ursula.
“I get out of this alive, we can work out the real world together.” He paused, considered. “But as you said, I’m going to die.”
She gave a tearful laugh and kissed his cheek. Squeezing her shoulder, he turned and joined his sister and Graham by the red room.
Hattie and Delilah had helped prop Omi against the wall opposite. Ursula sat beside him and Doc beside her. Hattie stood a little forward, hand over her mouth, unable to stop the tears.
“Don’t worry mum,” said Delilah. “We’ll soon be back.”
“Unless we die,” said Eve.
Adam hit her.
Graham gave a soft growl to his mother, and as a four, they turned to the vortex, lined up before it. Graham, on the far left, took Eve’s hand. She took Adam’s who took Delilah’s on the far right.
“Okay, when we’re in, I’m going to make it so the barrier can’t touch us, but I’m relying on you to lead the way.”
Delilah nodded. “Got it.”
“I’ve never done this before, obviously,” said Adam. “Assuming it works, the longer we’re in there, the harder I’ll find it to keep us all alive. So, no pressure, but be quick.”
“Got it.”
“Okay, ready when you are.”
This time, Delilah only nodded. She took a deep breath and stared at the door. Then, with only a quick look back at her mother and Omi, she stepped into the flames.
Hand in hand, the group allowed an ei
ght-month-old in the body of an eight-year-old lead them into hell.
On countless occasions, Eve had visited the stone-walled room in the mountain top castle. She knew well the huge four-poster bed, hidden by blood-red drapes, the thick patterned rug which covered much of the hard stone floor, the archway which led onto the balcony, which looked out over hell.
In the past, Eve’s visits had been only in a form of astral projection. She had always found the place vile. Only on this full-body visit did she realise she had dodged the worst of it: the nasty, biting chill in the air, the putrid smell of death and decay, the awful, blood-curdling screams which rose from the infinite torture chambers in the bowels of this despicable stronghold. On previous visits, Eve had heard her father when he spoke, and the demons when they fought. Dearest daddy must have protected her from the worst sounds, scents, shivers. She was glad he had but liked him no more for doing so.
Adam collapsed. Upon stepping through the door, they had for two steps been surrounded by a roaring inferno, though they could not feel, hear, nor smell its power. The third step had brought them into their father’s chamber. The whole trip had taken perhaps five seconds.
Usually, such a short journey would have been tiring but not debilitating for her brother. Perhaps it was not time, but distance, that made the difference. Whatever the case, she had never seen his nose release so much blood, never seen his skin so pale. Usually, he would have passed out before reaching this point, but he was awake now. On the floor, he trembled, his eyes could not focus, his hands opened and shut as though trying to grab something only he could see.
Eve dropped beside her brother; lay her hands on his arm. Drawn to this strange world, Graham made for the balcony. Blind, young, afraid, Delilah hovered. Having done her bit, Eve wished she could send the girl home.
“Adam, you did it. You got us here safe. We’ll get you home. Just got to save the world first.”
“And say hello to your father.”
Graham turned, roared, and rushed from the balcony, under the archway, stopping beside Eve. Facing the voice, Delilah shivered. Eve rose from beside her brother, stepped in front of her half- and full siblings.
“I spent real time thinking up a name for you,” she said, remembering the dinner when she had suggested naming him for the devil, and he had retorted she could call him Jehovah. “You never posited daddy as an option.”
The enemy, the father, stepped further into the room, stopping by the foot of his bed. When Eve had visited him in astral form, he had exuded evil. It was challenging to look at him without being assaulted by irrational fear. Though he was a handsome man with beautiful eyes, looking upon his face made you want to run screaming off the balcony to your doom.
There was none of that in real life. He was still handsome but seemed like any other man. There was nothing about him to indicate he could forge a life as a blacksmith forges a sword—not even calloused fingertips.
There was something else. Something about him Eve could see but not process, as though her subconscious could not accept what was apparent. She fought to surpass this barrier but failed.
“You should not have come,” her father said. “My hordes approach. During normal times, I ban all but the serving staff from the castle’s upper floors. Today, I have lifted the ban, invited my ferocious warriors to leave the torture chambers or scale the mountain; to rise to my inner sanctum. Powerful though you are, dear daughter, no shield can stop them. They’ll kill you all within seconds.”
His voice was calm as still waters. Still, she was missing something. His terrifying threats and the pounding feet on flagstone steps made it hard to think.
“Well,” she said. “You’re a shit father, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could let you live, but let’s face it, we will never get on, and I could never trust a being born to me of natural means. Too much free will. Even Pandora, devoted as she was, had to go.”
“She’s gone because I shot her,” said Eve.
“You were not the first to try,” said he. “Once the doorway could no longer be closed, Pandora was of no further use. Her defences fell, and you could destroy her. Given she would have been dead by day’s end anyway, I tend not to feel too guilty.”
He released the bedpost and went to the door through which he must have entered. While his children watched, he opened it wide and, with a doorstop shaped like no creature Eve had ever seen, ensured it would not shut.
“Just speeding up the process,” he said. “They’ll soon be here.”
“I could kill you before then.”
“How? Darling, I’m a God, I’m immortal. And if you can’t kill me, you’ve no chance of destroying my army, and if you can’t destroy my army, what can you do? Only die in the knowledge you’ve failed humanity, and should you be standing? You look awful.”
Eve raised an eyebrow, confused. Only when she heard the staggered breathing and groan did she realise what was happening and turn to see Adam. He stood, but the floor beckoned. Had a train his him he might have been in a better state.
“Adam, sit.”
“You’re not a God,” he said, ignoring her, looking at his father. “You’re afraid.”
And that was it. Somewhere inside a sub-conscious barrier had prevented Eve perceiving the truth: that her father was putting up a front because he was afraid. If Adam had reached the same mental block, he had done as he had with the barrier between dimensions and walked through it.
Their father cupped an ear, listened to the ever-rising feet on the flagstone steps, approaching at a frightening pace.
“And what would I have to fear?”
“You’ve created terrifying monsters of incredible power,” said Adam,“but you’re still human, and you share your fears with the rest of your kind.”
From his belt, Adam drew a gun. No longer could their father hold his cool façade. His eyes widened, his skin paled. He began to sweat.
“See what I mean?” said Adam, and shot the man three times in the chest.
In time with his victim, Adam collapsed, though he went only to his knees while his father landed on his back. Eve dropped to her brother’s side, propping him up. Together, they looked to the man who had conceived but not raised them.
“Makes mum look like a good parent, huh?” said Adam.
Eve chuckled, but the laugh was weak. Adam was hanging to consciousness by a thread. Whatever happened next, she would have to do it without him.
Their father’s hands rose. As blood seeped into the thick rug at the foot of his bed, the makeshift God patted his chest, as though this might be enough to mend the gaping wounds. The gurgling released when he opened his mouth suggested he was having little luck.
“Time’s almost up,” said Adam. “Make sure he’s dead, then wreck the joint.”
“The castle?”
“The world.”
She looked over her shoulder, to the balcony, to a cloudless sky lit by a blazing sun. There was no sea here. There was still plenty of land with which to content.
“I can’t.”
Adam took her hand, met her eye. “Eve, your power was limited only by this place, which stole you from our world if you went overboard. Now you’re here there are no more checks and balances. So finish our father, for whom this place was built, then get on that balcony, and rip this place to shreds.”
“I’m not a bomb, Adam.”
“No, but you can control the things around you. And there are millions of weapons all across this planet. Use them. Get it done. I believe in you.”
“Millions of weapons? Adam, I don’t know what you’re—”
“Wake me when it’s over,” he interrupted, and passed out.
Eve eased her brother to the ground. When he was on his back, she rose, with Delilah on her right, Graham on her left. Across the room, the door to the lower floors remained open while her father attempted to sit.
A flick of her fingers removed the weird doorstop, allowing t
o slam shut the door it had guarded. As wood clunked against stone, her father made it to an upright seated position. Though his suit was ruined, and blood trickled from one corner of his mouth, he managed to smile.
“Think that will stop my children?”
Sick of her old man, Eve looked to Graham.
“Please tell me you’re hungry?”
Graham smiled; and lunged.
To the soundtrack of her father’s screams, Eve turned and led Delilah to the balcony. In all her previous visits, it was on this stone jut, hovering over the mountain, she had arrived. Each time, she had looked upon bickering demons of varying sizes—from smaller than a human to larger than a skyscraper—and seen the untouched path which ran from the horizon to the castle doors and down to the eternalchambers of torture. Along this path had walked an endless line of quivering humans, lost in this world they did not understand, lining up for their unimaginable fate.
There were no humans now, nor did the demons fight. Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of beasts of all shapes, colours and sizes were racing up the mountain, making for the castle gates and the stone steps which would lead them to the chamber Eve had just vacated. Not so far away, off the path once trodden by humans, another doorway stood. No demons aimed for this easier target, suggesting Eve’s father had called them to the chamber to neutralise the threat of his natural-born children.
The sky went black.
The sun had not set but rather extinguished. What followed was a shaking which began in the planet’s core and rose for the surface.
Looking over her shoulder, Eve saw Graham rise and knew her father’s demise was the cause of these events. Not only the planet but this pocket universe had been created for her father. Now he was gone, existence was closing up shop.
The shaking grew more violent. Eve clasped Delilah’s hand and led her to the stone wall around the balcony. Debris began to shake loose from the castle's battlements, then pieces of brick began to fall. A huge crack appeared atop the nearest tower, across from the balcony on which Eve and Delilah stood.
On the mountain, a landslide began, sweeping away hordes of monsters. Two similar events followed the first, removing almost a thousand cruel creatures from contention.