by Rick Wood
She was still in there. Fighting for Oscar. And the world.
She had helped create the person Oscar was. Through her affection, she had undone all of Bertrand’s work. Through her love, he had gained the strength to lead — a strength he never had as a boy.
And the effect that April had on him was something The Devil could never have predicted. Something made of pure evil could never understand what impact the love of another person could have.
“Leave,” demanded Oscar.
“What?” retorted The Devil.
“Leave!” Oscar said, with more power. He pushed into the centre of April’s chest, knocking The Devil backwards.
The Devil snarled.
“Leave us alone!”
The Devil tried raising his fists, but the fire flickered to ambers.
“I have nothing you can take from me.”
Oscar pushed him back again. The Devil cowered, backing away, recognising these words — knowing that he was about to lose.
“You do not scare me anymore.”
Oscar pushed The Devil again, this time knocking him onto his back. He stood over his opponent, seeing the greatest evil, the king of Hell, the most formidable opponent he had ever faced — shrinking. Cowering. Trembling.
Oscar resisted all the temptations The Devil had given him. He held strength over Lucifer that could not be touched.
There was no Mara left in him, and soon there would be no Mara left in this world.
“You do not tempt me to feel anger. You do not tempt me to feel fear. And I have nothing you can touch.”
Oscar placed his fingers against The Devil’s temple.
“Leave me, and leave this place.”
The Devil screamed, pain in his shriek.
“And never come back.”
Oscar pressed his fingers harder against April’s head.
The Devil screeched and wailed and shouted, until a fiery light surrounded them, and they both disappeared from this world.
56
The room was like a box. It was empty of contents and void of colour. A strange feeling accompanied it, like a mixture of victory and loss. Oscar wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it.
He sat up. Rubbed his head. He felt light, almost empty.
Then he realised he was in a place not of this world. Nor was it of Heaven, or of Hell.
In fact, he was fairly sure this was Purgatory.
He pushed himself to his knees, then pushed himself to his feet. He stood, rubbing his head.
A groan came from behind him.
He turned to see a creature on the floor. Curled up, gooey, in pain. Demonic in nature, yet somehow vulnerable.
“It’s him,” came a voice from behind Oscar that sparked a smile.
Oscar turned around to see Julian, a warm smile ready to greet him. At first, Oscar was wary, as Julian and he had not always seen eye to eye — but Julian seemed genuinely pleased to see him.
“Or,” Julian continued, “should I say, it is the form he takes whilst in this place. I’d imagine, should he be granted passage back to Hell, his form will resume what it once was.”
“Should he be granted passage back to Hell? You mean there is an option where he doesn’t go back to Hell, and we could defeat The Devil once and for all?”
“We could. But I think it’s unlikely.”
“Unlikely? Why would it be unlikely?”
Julian smiled and placed a reassuring hand on Oscar’s back.
“Walk with me,” he said, and they began walking. The boxed room had somehow extended, and Oscar followed Julian.
“I’m proud of you,” said Julian. “You let go of the attachments that held you to Earth, and there was nothing he could beat you with. There is no one else in the world who has done what you did. Derek didn’t. Edward King didn’t. And I didn’t.”
“It felt bad, letting go of April.”
“See, that was not what you did — it wasn’t about you letting go of April. It was the letting go of the rage that your attachment to April caused. The anger, the fury, the jealousy — all of this fuelled his power over you.”
Oscar nodded. “So what about April then? Is she safe?”
Julian hesitated.
“Once again, Oscar, you have another unfair choice laid out before you.”
“Please, no. I don’t want to make another choice. I’m done choosing.”
“You’ve already made the choice. I have no doubt what you will pick, and that is why you are such a remarkable man.”
“I — I don’t understand.”
Julian paused, turned around, and looked at the remnants of The Devil moaning on the floor.
“You can end him right now,” Derek said. “By refusing to grant his passage back to Hell.”
“And I am meant to choose whether or not to do that? What kind of choice is that?”
“That is not the choice. Just remember, when I give you the choice — there will always be another ruler of Hell. There will be someone to take his place.”
“So what is the choice?”
Julian turned back to Oscar. Oscar looked back at the man who had always criticised him, yet had always been there to lead — and, let’s not forget, had been there to take April off the street and teach her who she was. They both owed so much to him.
“When I first met you, I thought you were an irritating little boy,” Julian said. “I could see how scared you were. You were weak. But you also had such impressive power in you. And, well, just look at what a person you have become.”
“What’s the choice, Julian?”
Julian hesitated, appearing deep in thought, then appearing resolved. Oscar knew Julian did not want to place this choice on him, but it was why he was here. It was his purpose for returning to Purgatory.
“If The Devil is to stay here,” Julian finally spoke, “his attachment to April will not be severed. She will die too.”
Oscar could see where this was going.
“And for her to live?” he prompted.
“The only way to sever his connection to April is to send him back to Hell. The process of his return will require a removal from all things linking him to your world.”
“So I save both The Devil and April, or I kill them both?”
“Precisely.”
Oscar’s head dropped. He looked to his feet, at first despondent, then angry. He wanted to kick something, but there was nothing to kick, so instead he screamed, then screamed again, his long wail of anger echoing around Purgatory.
“This is bullshit!” he said.
Julian did not reply.
“Why are these stupid decisions always up to me? I had to choose between the world and April before, I chose April, look what happened! And now you want me to make the same choice again?”
“Yes,” Julian said. “And, like I said, this is what is remarkable. What I really admire about you.”
“What?” Oscar spat. What could Julian possibly admire about Oscar in this situation?
“The fact that, after all you have been through, after all the repercussions, after finally winning the fight, after all the pain and suffering — you will make the same choice. You will pick April.”
“And you admire that? I thought you said I was a foolish child and cost the world for what I did? And now you admire it?”
Julian placed a hand on Oscar’s shoulder.
“I was wrong, Oscar. You were right. After all, if we are to let those we love die, then what are we fighting for?”
“And what about the right decision for the sake of the world?”
“I care more about April than I care about anything, and, I suppose, all I could ask for in the man she chooses to love, is that he chooses her — not only once, but again and again.”
“And if The Devil tries to fight his way back? If he succeeds? If he leaves Hell and this all just starts over again?”
“Then there will be a future generation of Sensitives ready to put him right back.”
&n
bsp; Oscar looked at The Devil. At the remnants of the most powerful evil to ever reign terror upon his world or any other. Watched him squirm. Watched him in pain.
And, without saying a word, he chose April and returned to his world.
57
Thea boomed out her prayer, but she needn’t. In a sudden, unexpected moment, every body of the possessed fell, writhing in pain, falling to their feet.
She watched over them, seeing some being freed, seeing some die — but seeing the demonic torment end either way.
A few demons remained powerful, stubbornly resisting their victim’s release. Thea marched toward these demons, placing her hand on each of their heads and forcing the demons out of the body.
Hundreds of bodies lay unconscious on the floor. Soon, their eyes opened, and blinked as they shielded their eyes from the light. People looked around, as if awaking from a long sleep. They struggled to understand where they were, or what they were doing, and that confusion was in all the faces.
But they were free. They were liberated, and Thea knew that, somehow, Oscar had done it.
Some people stood, meandered away, returning to a family that would be grateful to see them.
Thea returned up the hill, her legs aching. She ignored the pain. It could wait.
When she reached the top of the hill, she met Henry’s eyes. Never had she seen such an expression of relief. They embraced, and both knew it was over.
It did not stop there. All across the United Kingdom, the possessed were freed. With The Devil gone, the balance shifted once again, but this time in Heaven’s favour — and Heaven did not waste time in freeing the subjects of torment.
A child in Devon stopped telling his mother she deserved to die, and instead begged her to free him from the ropes before embracing the woman who had endured so much.
A grandfather in Edinburgh awoke, vomited, then fell off the bed. His limbs hurt, but he was laughing. He could feel the carpet again. He could hear the rain on the window. He could feel his lungs inflate and deflate.
A mother released her family from the basement where she had trapped them, and begged for their forgiveness. They could not understand what had forced this loving woman to commit such a horrendous act, and with such strength — but they knew, as soon as they saw her face, it was over. She finally looked like herself again.
Across the world, this continued.
In the United States, a daughter strapped to the bed opened her eyes one day to look into the weeping mother cowering over her bed and say the words, “I love you, Mom.”
Her mother cried, only this time, it was from relief. From a release of the torture she had spent the last year living through.
In South Africa, a man who had terrorised his village awoke and put it back together. He helped everyone he’d hurt, he restored every item he’d destroyed, and he apologised to everyone who had been dealing with the horrors the demon had forced him to commit.
In Iraq, a young girl awoke in time to stop herself from plummeting the sharp end of a knife into her father’s eye.
In Denmark, a child was freed, a mother was liberated, a father was let go.
All over the world, in Europe, Africa, Asia, Australasia, South America, North America… People awoke.
People who had not been truly awake for a very long time.
Their senses returned, and they returned to what they once were.
The damage could never be undone. But the wars ended. Acts of genocide ceased. Individuals who had suffered the worst suddenly hoped for the best.
It all ended, yet it all begun.
And there were a few people responsible that the world would never know of and never thank.
But the Sensitives didn’t need it.
They had finally brought the world back into balance.
And nobody needed to know.
A FEW DAYS LATER
58
Oscar sat at the kitchen table and kept glancing at the For-Sale sign outside.
Sure, this had been the house where he and April had fallen in love, but it was also the house where a demon child had torn them apart, where Julian had died, and where The Devil had tormented her.
Unfortunately, he would not be around to see this house be sold, or to see them move out.
His body felt beyond tired. It was hanging off his bones. His heart was beating slower, and his lungs felt sluggish. It would not last much longer.
Lorenzo sipped on his cup of tea. He looked over his shoulder at April, standing in the garden, enjoying the outdoors. Relishing the smell of the flowers.
She had never seemed to think about the smell of the flowers or the joy of their garden before. Now, she spent most days savouring every moment.
“Is she not going to come in?” Lorenzo asked.
“She isn’t interested in the politics of the Church,” Oscar replied. “I think she wants a bit of a break from demons for a while. I think we could all do with a break.”
“I suppose that’s understandable.”
“Why are you here?”
Oscar decided to be direct and to the point. He hadn’t much time left, and he did not want to waste it talking to the man in charge of covering up the biggest disaster to ever face mankind.
“We require a debrief after such an incident,” Lorenzo said.
“An incident. Is that what you’re calling it?”
“I would also like to extend our gratitude to you, on behalf of all the Church.”
It was so insincere that Oscar ignored it.
“Is there anything you would like to ask us?” Lorenzo said.
“Yes, there is something,” Oscar said. “How are you planning to cover this one up?”
Lorenzo seemed hesitant to answer. Oscar was tempted to point out what they had sacrificed, but Lorenzo seemed deem Oscar worthy of knowing.
“We released a new strain of flu,” Lorenzo said. “It has spread through the world and become a global pandemic. As a result, people have been made to isolate themselves in doors.”
“You released an infection so that people wouldn’t go out?”
“It seemed the best way to ensure people did not interact with others. The news has been so preoccupied with it, that we could cover up the amount of deaths occurring because of demonic activity relatively easily.”
Oscar shook his head in disbelief. “You are something else.”
“I suppose you will also want to know how long you have left? I mean, you are essentially a walking corpse.”
Oscar snorted back a laugh. Lorenzo did not even attempt to be tactful. Then again, why bother trying to be tactful to a dying man — let alone a man who was already, technically, dead.
“I don’t think I need you to tell me,” Oscar said. “I know it’s a matter of hours rather than days.”
“We will pay for your funeral.”
“Oh, how kind.”
A moment of uncomfortable silence hung between them.
“Well, I’ll be off,” Lorenzo said, standing, aware that there was nothing else he could say or do to help the situation.
He left his cup of tea unfinished and put his coat on. He walked to the door, but paused, looking back.
“There is something I wonder,” Lorenzo said.
“Oh yeah? What is that?”
“We at the church have speculated that, in the moments after you defeated The Devil, you were likely both taken back to Purgatory.”
“That’s pretty accurate.”
“And, well — I also speculated that, should The Devil have been left in Purgatory, he would have surely died. He could not survive without Hell.”
“I’d imagine not.”
“Well, I was wondering — do you know what happened? I mean, did you see it? Did The Devil remain in Purgatory to die, or was he granted access back to Hell?”
Oscar watched April outside, picking up a lily and holding it to her nose. Her body had still yet to return to normal. It still bore the scars and the stretches. There were mark
s on the top of her head where The Devil’s horns had started coming through. She ached, but, unlike Oscar’s body, hers was slowly returning to full health.
She had life. That was the main thing.
“I guess we’ll never know,” said Oscar.
Lorenzo thought about this for a moment.
“Hm,” he said, then left, leaving the house and their lives, hopefully forever.
59
Two comfortable garden chairs were placed in the garden. April sat in one, and Oscar in the other. They had both leant their chairs right back so they could stare at the clear night sky.
Above them, the stars shone in all their glory.
Oscar’s hand and April’s hand reached out from their seats, holding onto each other.
From the doorway of the kitchen, Thea watched. But she did not intrude. She was sad for what was going to happen, but she had said her goodbyes that afternoon. Now, it was night-time, and tonight belonged to April and Oscar.
The stars, despite their light, were not shining so brightly in Oscar’s eyes. It was growing dark. The thudding of his heart was no longer a thud, but a gentle tap. It was slowing, getting ready to stop. Like a runner at the end of a race, who had torn through the tape and been declared the winner, but was now jogging slowly, warming down.
April’s head lolled to the side and looked at Oscar.
Oscar did not look back. He continued to look up, despite his vision fading to blurs.
“Oscar?” April said.
Oscar did not hear much. He could tell there was talking, but it was muffled, like he was underwater.
“Oscar, can you hear me?”
She squeezed his hand. He turned his head toward her.
His eyelids drooped.
He was close.
“Thank you, Oscar,” April said.
She did not know if he could hear her. In fact, she did not know if he was even aware that she was still there. But his eyes, lolling as they were, were still focussed on her.
She thought about all the things she might say to him, if she knew that he could still understand what she was saying.