Attrition of the Gods: Book 1 of the Mystery Thriller series Gods Toys. (12 page)

At this point Leo realised who the surgeon was. Chillingly average looking, a dark-haired man with a small gap between his teeth. He would not be recognised by everyone but Leo had his face engraved on his memory by his father’s teachings, a man he referred to as the Angel of Death. This was the infamous Joseph Mengele.

As if his mind had a fast-forward mode Leo now saw these poor children post op, screaming in pain as the stitching that fused them together pushed poisonous pus from the wounds. Still, Leo felt someone else close by was in even more pain. A scan of the room showed a distraught woman tied to a chair, forced to watch her children suffer without the chance to offer comfort. A young nurse entered in a white uniform with shoulder-length hair and lovely blue eyes. Leo guessed she was mid-twenties, quite pretty really, and hope rose in his heart that help was at hand. The nurse looked at the children, inspecting their wounds. She smiled at them, and it was a kind smile, before she filled out the board by their bed. She then turned to leave.

“Why? Why are you doing this to my babies?” pleaded the woman. Her words were barely audible, but she managed to speak loudly with her eyes and they were begging.

The pretty little nurse with the blue eyes sneered at the pitiful mother.

“Filthy Jew, your snivelling, selfish kind deserves everything they get!” Her words spat out; her face, no longer pretty, was contorted with absolute hate.

The image thankfully faded away and Leo tried to speak, to beg Simeon to stop, but he was still in the first vision with Raphael and Isaac. It was obvious Raphael had witnessed the scene of the twins for the first time as well as he shook his head in disgust.

“Okay, I see. Reuben must be reeled in. But it has to be within the rules.”

Isaac was aghast. “Reeled in! For fuck’s sake, are we actually demons? Reuben thinks he can create some sort of mutant human for him to occupy. I have heard he plans full-scale dehumanising, even crossbreeding! And along with these sick experiments there is the mindless slaughter!”

“These things are regrettable and unsavoury but not against the rules,” remarked Raphael, sounding embarrassed.

“Okay, well, I am also sure he took Joseph’s amulet and then killed him… and he must have killed the others too. Surely killing Djinn is against the rules! This must stop! You are a Watcher, you can remove him.”

“I am an Arc Hon. I can do anything. Can you prove that he took it? Or that he is the one killing Djinn?”

“No, of course not, but you know it is him. He is killing Djinn and stealing their amulets so they don’t return to testify. I always believed we made up the myth of Satan to scare the humans but now I think maybe he really is amongst us.”

Raphael was pondering. Leo realised he was obviously no fan of this Reuben character.

“Amitiel told me of Simeon’s plan for a human competitor,” Isaac continued. “I believe he was right. Only a few Djinn remain and we will all surely suffer the same fate as the rest. Simeon was smart enough to renew and now I understand why.”

Raphael looked concerned. “Surely you are not thinking of doing the same?”

Isaac didn’t answer; instead he lobbied Raphael. “Will you do this for me? Will you hide the book?”

“Yes, okay, I will,” replied Raphael and in return handed him a small star-shaped gem. “Here, you will need this when you want it back. I will hide the book well.”

“Thank you, Raphael. I am to head for Venice. I can only hope Reuben does not break with our sanctuary rules.”

The vision passed and Simeon spoke out loud to Leo again. “The gem he passed to Isaac is called a
spell
. It is Djinn technology. I am guessing it will be a divining tool to find the book, or maybe a key to open the place it is hidden. We need to find that gem.”

Leo was beginning to feel a bit hysterical.

“You keep saying
we.
Why am I involved? What has all this got to do with me?”

“The thirteen came here to compete in a game. The victor could stay and rule humankind, lead them into enlightenment as the Arc Hon led us. I realise how this sounds but we are eons more advanced than you. We looked upon humans the same way you look at animals.”

Leo felt anger stir in him. “Yes, I can see that.”

“I understand how you feel and as time went on some of us realised our mistake. I am not trying to convince you that I am any different, but trust me, we need to stop the Djinn known as Reuben Lupas. If he wins the game and becomes the Host it will bring more misery and pain to the human race than they have ever known. You have seen what happened the last time he made his play, which is nothing compared to what will occur if he ever triumphs.

“I realised this centuries ago and proposed that your race should have an opportunity to win the game themselves. I was denied then but you’ve just heard Isaac second that opinion. With two Djinn agreeing to it, the High Council and the Arc Hon have had to allow this. The humans now have a chance to win their world back but it may be too late if Reuben gets that book.”

Simeon paused to look at Leo intently. “Can you really say no to helping me?”

And so this was how it began. Leo was sacrificing everything he had in life: his home, his marriage and his family. He knew that soon it would also be his freedom and one day his life. But the more Simeon taught him about the Djinn and the Arc Hon, the more he knew he had no other choice.

Stoke Prison

“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”

Oscar Wilde

Shane has been listening to Leo’s fantasies for nearly six months now. He is amazed at the old man’s imagination: Djinn, amulets, global conspiracies! Shane never questions the stories that Leo spins; in fact, he enjoys listening to them. As far as he is concerned everyone in the slammer seems to be a bullshitter so he might as well listen to good bullshit. Not that he thinks it is all bullshit; he knows Leo genuinely believes what he is saying, but by the fact he is here at all it’s clear he’s had some sort of breakdown and lost his grip on reality. Shane knows that the bit about working for the Pope is true. He is also aware that Leo was a very intelligent man, who spoke several languages and was some sort of maths genius, although surprisingly not too good at chess. But the stories were definitely becoming more far-fetched.

“We should write this all down in a book,” says Shane. “Get it published and make a few bob.”

The otherwise perfectly sane Leo loses it. “Are you fucking crazy?” Leo screams at Shane, jumping out of his chair and accidently throwing the table over, chess pieces spilling all over the room. Shane leaped up, startled by the old man’s sudden wrath.

“Wow, hold on there, bald eagle! I was just joshing with you. Fucking hell, calm down.”

The guards walk over but Shane waves them away as he tries to calm Leo.

“Don’t panic, just a little misunderstanding.”

The two guards nod, leaving the men to sort out their dispute. Leo sits timidly as Shane picks up the chess pieces.

“I know you think these are the ramblings of a madman,” says Leo. “But one day, probably soon, you will know what I say is true. I pray that it will not be too late for you when your eyes finally open.”

“I don’t think you’re mad, old man, well, I didn’t until this little sissy fit, but look, I’m sorry, I wouldn’t purposely offend you.”

Leo accepts the apology and offers his own. He is truly sorry and knows it is a lot to ask of Shane to believe these outlandish accounts without the evidence he had seen first-hand. He is aware that Shane is just humouring him, too polite to tell him that he is a mental case. However, Shane does listen and can repeat every event Leo describes. This is the best Leo can expect for now at least when the time comes he will have some idea. That is, once he recovers from the shock that it is all true.

Shane decides he must be more considerate with what he says. He likes the old man and doesn’t want to upset him. Anyway, who knows, it might all be true… He thinks for a minute then makes a note to himself:
You got to start hanging out with some other dudes.

But he didn’t. Instead he began asking questions. If he was going to listen to the old man he might as well test him.

“How is it that these Djinn guys live all these years? I mean you’re talking thousands of years in human form? They got to have a face like Keith Richards’ ball sack, if you know what I mean. All fucking wrinkles and that!”

Shane laughs at his own joke in a juvenile display, his shoulders bouncing involuntarily as he holds his side.

Leo ignores his childish giggles. “They possess different human bodies. The Djinn may seem magical but really it is just advanced science. They are sentient beings with no carbon form so to live among us they take over a male body….”

“Does it have to be male? I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a woman for a day. Imagine the possibilities!”

“They choose males because men can sire more children in a lifetime than a woman can give birth to.”

“Why are they bothered about having children?”

Leo rubs his face. “It appears that part of the game is to spread their DNA as far as possible. If you carry Djinn DNA in your bloodline then they have a certain amount of power over you.”

“So they just fuck all our women, spread their seed and rule our minds? That’s how they win this game? Jesus!”

Leo smiles at how Shane simplifies things. “Yes, in a nutshell that seems to be it. And the boys need to be pre-teen, between ten and thirteen.”

“Really?” says Shane. “Because that is starting to sound a bit dodgy.”

“Not really. Simeon told me this is because the Djinn life-form is contained in the pineal gland of the body it possesses. Apparently this is where the human connection to the metaphysical life force resides. Under ten they would be too immature to retain the Djinn memories and over thirteen they enter puberty, which causes certain changes in the gland, such as calcification, making it inhospitable.

“Yeah, nobody wants to live in a lime scaled house. So then what happens?”

“The Djinn will keep the body until it gets too old or becomes ill or perhaps they just get bored of it, then they simply transfer to another. Simeon says it is actually rather a complicated procedure, one he couldn’t really explain to me. Strangely, though, he did tell me that the rules specify that the body must be offered by the child’s parents.”

“Why on earth would someone offer up their kid?”

“The Djinn have recruited many human followers over the years by offering fortune, fame or whatever they desire in return for service and sometimes their own children. Simeon said I would be surprised how little a price some humans put on their own kin. This is what he believes lead men to coin the phrase ‘selling your soul’. Some followers are deluded and believe they are following a higher being, but most are just greedy.”

“No decent father would sell his child,” says Shane, moving his rook.

Leo is happy Shane is showing so much interest, even if he knows most of it is feigned.

“Checkmate,” says Shane.

Leo shakes his head; he barely gets going in their chess games nowadays.

As Shane leaves the table, Leo notices that a couple of new inmates have joined the wing today. One is a small white male who seems very effeminate, the second is a large well-built black man who sports the long full beard that can be associated with Islam. Leo knows he is paranoid but any new inmate could be a plant from the Djinn to complete the task Errol and Bird had started. Who better to kill a Jew than a Muslim? Leo calls Johnny-No-Legs over to enquire about the new guy. No-Legs looks at him in disbelief.

“That’s Robert Price. The media call him ‘Al Qaeda Bob’, don’t you read the papers?”

Leo reads papers from back to front, just not the sort of papers that give people titles like “Al Qaeda Bob”.

“What’s he in for?” asks Leo.

“He’s the guy that was out in Syria training with the ragheads. He was arrested getting off a plane, they say he was plotting a terrorist attack over here.”

That wasn’t exactly true: No-Legs had merely read the headline and filled the rest in himself. Robert Price, aka Al Qaeda Bob, was born in Coventry, England. He grew up on the Painter’s Corner council estate. Robert was pretty much like every other British kid on the estate, in and out of trouble but nothing too serious.

When the a family called Mustapha’s arrived they were the first Muslims on the estate and were often taunted and called “Pakis” as they walked down the street. Robert was as guilty as anyone else in not being very welcoming. Robert never steeped to the depths others did but he did join in the laughter when jokes were made. Then his life and views changed.

He wasn’t even aware of the eldest daughter, Rain, until she turned up at his secondary school. Rain was special. Although she wore the traditional headscarf associated with Muslim girls, she never acted as Robert imagined Muslim girls did, or in fact any other girl. Rain played football, she was funny, and, boy, was she pretty. Robert expected a lot of ribbing from his friends when he began dating her but to his surprise they all seemed happy for him and probably a little jealous.

Soon Rain was accepted among many on the estate and it followed that so was her family. The main problem for their relationship was their parents. Rain’s father was not a strict Muslim but he did attend the mosque and she feared he may insist that she stop seeing the non-Muslim black boy. Robert’s mother was of West Indian descent and was a strict evangelist who attended Mass at least three times a week. She had nothing against any other religion but hoped her boy would meet a nice Christian girl. However, after a few months of grief, both sets of parents relented and accepted the couple. Rain never tried to persuade Robert to convert to Islam but after three years together he asked her to marry him and volunteered to convert, suggesting it might soften the blow for her family. Robert’s mum had passed away so there was nobody to upset at his end. Personally he was not at all religious but he was respectful of Mr and Mrs Mustapha, Rain’s parents. So when he took the decision to convert he studied at the mosque and learned as much as possible about the Quran. Still, he would have to admit, it was his undying love for Rain that motivated his worship and not his belief in either Allah or Muhammad.