Judas

by Caleb Meeks

  He wasn’t wrong, and I knew he wasn’t. Even though I had broken free from him, I became what he always wanted me to be. I thought I was free, but I was even more a slave than when I was under his wing. “You’re right. I did carry your legacy. I was you. I guess that’s why we’re here right now.”

  “I suppose.” He took two steps down from the cross towards me. “Now, are you going to keep beating around what we’re both here for, or are we going to end this?” I stepped forward, silently answering his question. He smiled. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.”

  We reached each other just in the middle of the aisle. He jerked his hand at my face, but I caught it before he got close. There was a momentary pause where he dipped his head in acknowledgment, but it didn’t last long. He used his other arm to wrap around the opposite side of my neck. The leverage he had giving him the ability to pull me back into the line of pews. He continued to push me back until I fell into one of them. Not wasting a second, he was prepared to be on top of me before I even hit the ground. His hand extended, grabbing hold of my shirt. Before I had even landed in the wooden pew, he pulled me back up towards him. His fist connected with my jaw, which sent me back towards the ground. This time, I hit the ground, smacking my face into the back of one of the wooden surfaces. It jarred my head, but I collected myself quickly.

  “You know Judas,” he adjusted the cuffs on his shirt, “so far I feel like I went to a steakhouse and got served a salad. You seemed to have promised me a battle worth fighting, but so far, I don’t even know why I’m here.”

  I inhaled, using the last seconds I had to compose myself as best as possible. He stepped towards me, reaching out to pull me off the ground. I vaulted myself from the ground towards him. My fist connected with his chest, which knocked him back. “How’s your salad taste now?” He laughed cynically, then wiped his mouth.

  He stepped towards me, arms in a far more defensive position than before. One arm flew towards my face, which I deflected upwards. His other arm, however, moved simultaneously, and collided with my stomach. I could almost feel the bullet wound from the first time we were there, but I didn’t let it phase me. I rounded my arm so that his forearm moved with mine, which turned him to the side. I collided my fist with his face as hard as I could, and he smacked into the ground.

  He didn’t stay down for long, however. Just as quickly as he was down, he shot back up, now holding a dusty glass bottle of liquor in his hand. Before I could stop him, he cracked the bottle across my face. It shattered, shooting glass shards across the room, as well as slicing my face along one side. I couldn’t tell how many gashes it opened, but I felt the warmth of blood oozing down my face. The impact caused me to stumble backwards, but I quickly reoriented myself. He was now holding the sharp stump of the bottle, which was rimmed with my blood. Pieces of glass on the ground were lined with it too. I wiped off the side of my face, which dislodged another two pieces of glass that were still burrowed in the split tissue. He smiled, knowing first blood was his.

  He threw the glass stub to the ground and launched himself at me for another attack. I was prepared, but the impact still stumbled me. He pounded my shaky defenses, each time pushing me a step further back. The cross was becoming increasingly closer each time. Eventually, I was backed up against the wooden symbol. Abaddon went to hit me directly in the face, but I ducked in time that his hand collided with the cross. I heard the crack from the impact. The seemingly frail cross, however, stood unshaken. Using the momentum, I jumped forward, wrapping my arms around his torso. We landed on the ground just off from the steps. He looked shocked by the sudden turn of events, but I didn’t let the momentary feeling of victory take away from the change of dominance. With him now on the ground, I had the power, and I didn’t want to let it go.

  I pulled my fist backwards, and without any hesitation, let it strike his face. He was trying to sit up when my fist hit him, which sent his head recoiling towards the ground. Shock and confusion enveloped his face. Again, without any hesitation, I pulled my fist back and let it crash into his face. I hit him three more times before he retaliated, but he eventually did. Caught up in the feeling of my fist against his face, I didn’t realize his hand reaching out and grabbing hold of a stray metal pipe.

  He smacked the pipe into the side of my head, which knocked me from the victorious daze I was in. It gave him just enough time to flip me over. Now, he wore the look of victory. His face was bleeding and broken, but I could still see the familiar look of triumph. A sinister, bloody smile split across his face when he raised the metal pipe, placed it along the base of my throat, and pushed down. I could feel the pipe cutting off my oxygen, and even though I was trying to push against it, he had the gravitational advantage. I felt helpless, but it was far too early to give in. There was something I could do, I just needed to figure out what it was. If I let go of the pipe, his weight would increase, so I needed to be quick once I let go of the pipe. Moving as quickly as I could, I let go of the pipe, and as expected, his full weight was pressed against my throat. A chunk of glass from earlier was laying just in arms reach, but it was the only thing I could use to get out of the situation. I reached out, gripping it as tightly as I could. The jagged edges tore into my hand, but I ignored it as best I could. I jammed it into his side, and the pressure against my throat ceased almost immediately. He stumbled to the side, which gave me the opportunity to jump to my feet.

  I was gasping for air, my vision was blurry, and my hand was bleeding, but I was less defenseless than I was before. He stood up and pulled the shard from his side. In one unbothered toss, it flew into the wall, shattering. As the glass crashed against the wall, all the candles burnt out, almost like a gust of wind had torn through the room. The vicious smile reappeared, hungry for blood once again. He spit blood to the side and wiped more of it from his face. The hole in his side didn’t seem to faze him.

  We faced each other for no longer than a few seconds, but my vision cleared up, and I had gotten some of my breath back. He went in for his next move, but I maneuvered under his arm. In the process, I grabbed the metal pipe he just had. He flipped around, now more aggravated than entertained. He jumped at me; a fist already formed at his side. I swung the pipe in my hand, and it smacked against the side of his head. He toppled to the ground, landing on his knee to support him. I took a step forward and kicked my foot out towards him. It landed in the center of his face, and he fell to the ground.

  I walked to where he had landed. His smug grin had been wiped from his face. I grabbed him by the shirt with both hands, forcing him to his feet. He stumbled where I led him, which was to the front of the pulpit, just in front of the cross. I wrapped my hand around the base of his neck, making sure I had a solid grip. He knew what was coming, and I could read it on his face. That visage of victory had been replaced with the unfamiliar grimace of defeat.

  I readied my arm and followed through with a solid hook into his abdomen. He started to crumple, but I set him back up with the grip I had on his neck. I hit him again, and again, and again, and again until I realized he had been unresponsive for the last few hits. I released him from my grip, and he crumpled to the ground.

  ▪

  “Matthew, he’s going to be okay. You and I both know how tough he is.” Leo tried to calm down his partner, but he couldn’t. Leo himself was on edge but internalized it more than Matthew had.

  “Yeah, I know how tough he is, but we don’t know how tough this Abaddon guy is. I’ve seen what he did to Judas firsthand. If Judas can’t take him, then none of us are going to be able to either.

  He posed a solid point. One that Leo had spent a lengthy amount of time considering. They all were counting on him, but it was a blind faith, considering they weren’t able to be in there with him.

  “Get down on the ground!” Someone screamed from behind them, followed by the sound of two dozen guns being turned off of safety.

  Matthew and Leo jerked their heads up towards whatever the yellin
g was directed at. Somehow, someone managed to make it to the front of the building. A man wearing a black suit stumbled out of the building. His face was beaten badly, he had a stab wound in his side, and could barely walk.

  “Get down!” Both Leo and Matthew yelled, pulling their guns from their holsters. It didn’t seem to take much coaxing. The man unconsciously fell to the ground.

  ▪

  I stood there, looking at Abaddon’s crumpled body at the foot of the two steps. He looked dead, or unconscious at the very least. I bent down, just enough that I could look at him closer. He wasn’t giving off any signs of life. There was no rise and fall of his chest, there was no detectable pulse, his eyes weren’t moving, and when I kicked his foot, he was unresponsive.

  The blood dripping from my hand and my face was a distant thought. At the forefront of my mind was the idea that it was over. I’d been fighting this for so long, the idea of it being over didn’t make sense. I’d spent so much time imagining the fight as a grandiose, all-out war, that I never imagined it could be a one-on-one fight in the middle of a church.

  After standing and staring at his seemingly deceased body for longer than I could determine, I stepped away. I managed to pull my eyes up to the door just in front of us, and pushed myself towards it, one step at a time. It took some time, but I managed to amble to the door. Just before I got to the door, though, I heard a scratching sound coming behind me. I turned around and couldn’t understand what was happening. Abaddon was not only getting back up, but he practically levitated back to his feet. His arms were extended outwards, but he was still rising upwards. I wondered if it was a hallucination, maybe from the lack of oxygen, but there was something very tangible about him. I’d seen some dark things in my life, but there was something there, something that wasn’t there just before, and it was pure evil.

  He landed back on his feet; both his arms still outstretched. His arms bent in, slicked back down his hair, and then clasped in front of his stomach. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but it was very much real. Every wound that I had just dealt was mysteriously gone. He looked like nothing had ever happened. I, however, felt the full brunt of the battle that had just happened.

  Without mis-using a second, he started towards me. There was a new kind of aggression in his gate. It wanted to kill, and it wouldn’t stop until it had. I had braced myself before he got to me, but it didn’t help. It felt like his forearm was made of steel when it smacked into me. I was anticipating an impact, but what hit me knocked me three steps back. I didn’t understand what was happening, but the sick sneer he was wearing didn’t show that he had any intention of letting up.

  He advanced immediately after landing the first blow. I didn’t realize that I had backed myself up against a wall, but the dread I felt when my back hit it was unmatched. He stepped up to me and wrapped his hand around my throat. The skin was still tender from the pipe. I felt my feet lift off the ground, but it didn’t look like he even strained to pick me up. There was a viciousness in the way he was looking directly into my eyes that told me I needed to get out of his grip. I hit at the arm around my throat, but he was indifferent. I reached up and grabbed hold of the arm. Using the steadiness from it, I lifted my legs up, and placed them against his chest. Pushing as hard as I could, he was forced to release his grip. As he fell backwards, I fell to the ground.

  He recovered much faster than I did. When I saw him get back to his feet, it forced me back to mine. I ran around him, but he didn’t follow quickly. He maintained a steady pace but didn’t run. The confidence that he would kill me sent chills down my spine. I grabbed hold of an empty glass bottle and smashed it against one of the pews. As I hoped, it cracked, and left sharp teeth around the break. He reached me faster than I expected. I dodged one of his swings and used the opportunity to burrow the glass bottle into his chest. He nonchalantly glanced down at the bottle, now sticking out of his skin. His eyes locked with mine, and he simply reached up, pulled it out, and dropped it on the floor. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when that glass shattered against the ground.

  ▪

  Matthew and Leo grabbed the body of the man off the ground. He was unresponsive, but alive. At least for the moment. Neither of them knew what Abaddon looked like, but they both guessed it was him. They instructed that the guns be brought down and called for the paramedic team to come over and grab him.

  “Take some guys and watch him. Even if he’s unresponsive, we need to watch him.” Leo instructed the officer. He nodded and rounded up a few of the surrounding officers to go stand watch while the medics worked on him.

  “If Abaddon’s here, where’s Judas?” Matthew asked. Almost as a response to his question, an ungodly sound erupted from the church. It sounded like a scream but could never have come from a human. It was distorted, and both higher and lower than something a human could make. The next sound that vented from the building sent chills down their spines. An entirely unhuman, guttural growl, louder than anything they could have imagined, rang out. They locked eyes with each other and found that they were equally as terrified.

  Leo pulled his gun from the holster and charged the building. Matthew followed with the same strategy. Leo slammed into the door first, but it didn’t move. It was an old door, so he assumed it would break down, but it didn’t even bow. The pain radiating from his shoulder felt like it was reinforced from the back, but he knew it wasn’t. Matthew did the same, but to the same result. Leo grabbed hold of the metal handles, but the door wouldn’t open from any direction. They flashed a look of panic to each other. Matthew didn’t stay there for long, though. He vaulted himself towards one of the windows on the side. It looked like it was already cracked, so he assumed he could get through it. He slammed his elbow into it, but it gave the same recoil as the door. All the while, the supernatural screams echoed over everything they did. It was so loud that they could barely hear each other.

  Leo ran up to him, grabbing his arm to get his attention. “Get back!” He screamed over the growls. They both ran back from the building. Once they were back behind the protection of car door, Leo gave an officer the instruction to fire at the building. He nodded and started firing at the window. The bullets simply bounced off the glass. It didn’t show any sign of impact. The loudest of the distorted screams bellowed from the building. “What do we do?” Leo yelled, but over the screams, no one heard him.

  ▪

  I slammed my face into his. It was the only thing I could do that would give me the opportunity to get around him. His head snapped back, but it didn’t seem to affect him like I hoped it would. Still, it gave me the ability to move around him. I headed for the door but didn’t make it far.

  A bottle flew past my head. It shattered against the door just in front of me, sending glass shards flying. I reached up to protect my face, then turned around, expecting to see him immediately behind me. Instead, he was still across the aisle. I realized, however, that he wasn’t going to let me leave.

  I took three steps toward him. He shot his hand out at me, and I fell to the ground. He never made contact, he was still six feet from me, but something forced me to the ground. My whole body smacked against the floor, almost like something had landed on me. He still had his hand out but was now approaching me. With a few steps, he was standing just over me. I tried to move out of the way, even just to put some more space between us, but I couldn’t move. How he was doing it, I didn’t know, but there was something inside him that I couldn’t fight. I watched, helplessly, as he stared down at me.

  I looked deep into his eyes, and I watched as they turned black. I blinked a few times, thinking I was imagining things, but it was no hallucination. His eyes turned the color black that sends horror into your soul. Slowly, his head reclined back, and he let out a roar that I could feel in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t human. It was like something was inside of him that wanted out. As he screamed, something seeped out of him. It was like a cloud of pure black evil. I didn’t know if it was r
eally happening, but it felt far too real to not be. As it bled from him, it grabbed onto me, and that was when I realized it was real. Once it touched my skin, I could feel the purely evil power that he had inside of him. It started low, but quickly started encapsulating me.

  I couldn’t explain what it felt like other than evil. The purest form of it that I’d ever experienced, and it was overtaking me. I felt it slithering up my body, and even if I could have moved, it wouldn’t have let me. It was an entity all its own, completely separate from the body using it.

  I tried to fight it, but I couldn’t. It was stronger than anything I’d ever fought before, and its power was beyond anything combatable. The worst part was that it wasn’t even injuring me. I wasn’t in pain, but it was using myself against me. Memories of murders, the first, the last, the most gruesome, all started flowing through my mind. Reminding me of the person I was, convincing me there was no way I could leave it behind. I believed it, and that was the hardest part. I’d convinced myself that I was free of those demons, but when faced with the reality of them again, I realized that maybe I wasn’t. Maybe this entity, whatever you want to call it, had power over me because there were pieces of it inside me.

  There was a sudden wave of defeat. It’s whispers in my mind told me that I had lost, and so I believed it. I closed my eyes and gave into the words it was saying.

  ▪

  I opened my eyes to my childhood living room. It was just like I remembered it. Not the way it was when I went back, but the way it was when I still lived there. All the injuries Abaddon had given me were gone, but I didn’t like the way I felt. It seemed like I was alone, but it felt heavy. The way it felt heavy when I still lived there.

  The floor creaked as I took steps forward. The kitchen was just ahead. That’s where my mother spent most of her time, when she wasn’t tending to my father. He was always around the corner in the bedroom, but I was instructed to never go in. I’d gotten close a few times, when I was home alone, but I never got farther than a few steps. The floor behind me creaked, just as it had when I stepped on it. I spun around to see what was there, and to my horror, my father was standing there, just as he was the night I had to kill him. He looked just like he did that night, too. No shirt, bony protrusions, bloodshot eyes, emitting that blood-hungry snarl. I backed against the wall, crumbling from the memory. Even though I survived that night, and I could do it again, it was in the past, and I vowed to try to never relive it. Here I was, though, being forced to feel it all over again. The muscles in his face were twitching, which made him look like an animal.