CounterPoint (8 page)

“Father, you really shouldn’t have bothered visiting in weather like this,” she said, as her face lit up from a hard flash of lightning outside. Its brilliance meant the centre of the storm was very near. She knew he wasn’t here for a catch-up. You don’t call at this time of night unless something is very wrong.

“I wish I could say I was here for a catch up, Mary,” he responded, squeezing the tea bags against the side of the cups. He liked his extra strong.

“Let’s have it then,” she said, resting her elbow on the table and receiving the mug of tea. Father Mulholland and herself had been involved in some frank and unusual discussions over the years.

“I’ve been having nightmares Mary, for months now. At first I thought they were simply that – nightmares, eating too much cheese before bedtime as it were. But they’ve gotten worse and their intensifying. They’re more like visions. I can’t shut my eyes now without seeing images.”

Mary nodded her head, rapt with attention.

“The nightmares I’m having Mary….they’ve been unfolding like a story. I’m afraid to say they centre round you and your family. I know they’re just dreams but I can’t help shake this horrible, evil, sinking feeling in my gut every time I waken up that something bad is going to happen. I know this all sounds maddening. Trust me it feels maddening but I just don’t think I can ignore these things any longer.”

He walked around the kitchen, needing to pace to settle himself and gather his thoughts. He had planned for weeks how to explain all this and now his mind was blank. Mary sat silently, her tea untouched as her eyes traced him around the kitchen behind her round glasses.

“Mary, you and I have been friends for a very long time. That’s why I’m here. You are the closest thing I have to family here on Earth and these nightmares really don’t bode well. What’s even more worrying is that they seem to be playing out just the way I dreamt them.”

“Go on Father…” encouraged Mary, not sure what to make of anything he was saying.

“Well, I imagined all this. I imagined that the world would be engulfed by a storm that would never cease. The floods, the waves, the winds and the lightning seem to be constant. I dreamt all this weeks before it happened and now it’s happening. That’s frightening. I also dreamt about me coming here tonight and having this exact conversation with you. I even deliberately left early today to see you, to try and prove the dreams wrong by coming here in daylight. But the bus got delayed and then got a puncture. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“OK, Father. In your dreams, what happens after this meeting?”

“After this meeting you don’t believe me. You consider my dreams as simply that, just dreams. Then everything changes. A man will call here in a few hours. You’ll invite him in for tea. Please don’t do this. This man wants to take you away Mary, you and your family.
Just run now before he comes!
” spoke Father Mulholland gravely, not breaking eye contact with Mary. He was close to tears.

“What is this man?”

“He’s an angel, Mary. An angel,” said Father Mulholland finally, taking another gulp of his tea and falling into the chair facing her.

“You know what this means. It means it’s the beginning of the end,” said Mary. The steeliness in her held steady but she already felt weak at the knees evening acknowledging it.

The conversation lasted another half hour before Father Mulholland insisted on going home despite the weather. Mary was shocked to the core by the news.

“Thank you, Father, now if you would please leave. I need to protect my family,” she said in the gravest of tones.

They parted ways, and she sat in the kitchen staring out towards the dark, rain soaked garden once more.

Chapter 8

Hell. Regarded by many humans as the most fearsome, fiery, cruel place on Earth. They would be surprised to find it was actually a relatively calm, dark oasis, for demon kind at least. Hell itself was located in another realm on Earth. Access to this realm for humans was precariously difficult, requiring a complex spell involving the blood of a virgin lamb from Israel and a rare incantation at one of six important cemeteries around the world. These cemeteries were not well guarded, just monitored. Angels reasoned that no human would ever want to enter Hell. Demons didn’t need to use these conduits to exit Hell.  Angels could even simply appear outside the doors of Hell with ease.

The last time an angel was in Hell was back in the 1500s, when a man known in the human world as Leonardo Da Vinci was found by Angelic Special Forces.  To humans he was a great artist and forward thinker but to the angelic world he was an outcast. According to scripture Da Vinci was a ‘chosen one’ in charge of documenting the progress of humanity for the almighty God. He chose to do this through stunning works of art which were now held in the vaults in Heaven. Unfortunately, the time these works had been found they had already become part of human culture and could not be removed. Therefore, Heaven created perfect copies of them, and took the originals up their vaults to be stored for eternity until God returned. From humanity’s first footsteps onto the beaches to their first words, every milestone was documented. In the 1400s, however, he became disillusioned with his responsibilities and decided to disobey, disappearing to live among humans. It took special operatives many years to discover him and by then he had influenced the human timeline far beyond what was repairable and was sentenced to eternity in Hell. The Archangel Raphael personally banished him there. His depiction of the woman in the painting titled
The Mona Lisa
was considered an act of treason by Heaven which was unforgivable. His banishment to Hell sent shockwaves throughout the ranks as many considered him to be a ‘chosen one’.

‘Chosen One’ was a term used by rank and file members of the angelic hierarchy to refer to angels handpicked by God himself to perform specific functions. There are actually over sixteen of these angels all with one specific task and meaning for existence. In regards to the choosing of prophets, those who actually speak the word of God and are able to see the scriptures of Fate herself are handpicked by a very senior, old angel.  This angel hasn’t stepped outside Heaven in all eternity, preferring the divine kingdom to perform his work. Known as Pravuil, he is tasked with keeping God informed of current notable events happening on Earth. He is very difficult to find, and hasn’t been seen for thousands of years at a time. The difference between chosen ones and archangels was a matter of respect. Most angels respected the chosen ones as they were performing the holiest of work for God. They were to be worshipped, cherished and feared. Archangels, however, were considered Heaven’s generals, commanding its armies and being the mightiest of all in the angelic hierarchy. They were more feared than respected. The angelic hierarchy was more complicated and bloated than at any other time in its history, and with everyone trying to position themselves for the upcoming war it seemed they were as unprepared as ever. This battle against Hell had served to rally the angelic spirit and now, as they stood outside the gates of Hell, the time had come to once again protect humanity.

The entrance to Hell was imposing in its immense scale. Vast walls rising up to meet the solid Earth stonework above, it appeared to have been carved out of an underground mountain. Huge, disgusting statues depicting the fall of various angels and the torture of humanity were chiselled prominently from the solid stone.  The entrance itself was a large gated assemble slightly indented into the jagged rock surrounding its immediate vicinity. Two large lanterns hanging from each column supporting the gates provided the only light for the vast cavern. Their deep, blood red like flames were in stark contrast to the gathered angels and their pristine suits with blazing white shirts.

Suddenly, dust began to sprinkle from the ceilings above and the lanterns flickered violently as the room lit up in a momentary flash of blinding white light. Gabriel had arrived. Clad in a light grey suit with a long matching trench coat and red tie, he was eminently distinguishable from the rest of the black suited angels present. He was thin and lightly made up, with his greying hair highlighting his age and experience. Their general was now with them. The battle could begin.

Looking around at the soldiers, Gabriel was exasperated and perplexed by the paucity of their numbers. He did recognise a lot of them, angels who had worked with him before and knew what to expect of him and what he expected in return. Nevertheless, with so few numbers this was going to be a very difficult assignment. To penetrate Hell and destroy its arsenal of fearsome weapons whilst fighting hordes of demons and their commanders would certainly test the angelic abilities of those present. His four bodyguards angled beside him, getting full view of the structure ahead. Most angels had never seen Hell before and this would be the first time that a full scale incursion had taken place. Usually small missions were undertaken by Special Operations. The screeching howls that most people imagined coming from behind the gates were in fact dull cries but that probably made them even more sinister. You didn’t know if it was human, demon or monster waiting for you. Gabriel walked ahead of the assembled force and turned to face them, his arms firmly behind his back. He wanted to project as much confidence and authority as he could muster.

“You know why we are here. You have all received divine instruction. There is only one entrance and one exit to Hell and we’re standing in front of them. We are to hold the line until we receive instructions to penetrate Hell and apprehend their weapons. You are authorised to use whatever force necessary for the oncoming confrontation. We maintain our lines. They are not to be crossed. Only when we receive the go ahead we are to push forward. It is tactically sound for us to engage the enemy here rather than within Hell itself. Get into formations.” Gabriel’s speech was loud and strong, his voice echoed throughout the cavern. Speaking in Enochian always ensured complete safety – it was a language comprehensible only to angels.

The angels immediately formed up, creating short, double barrelled lines with Gabriel and his personal staff at the forward centre. With only twelve lines, six angels per line, their numbers were small. The lanterns flames hanging outside the gates grew brighter and brighter. It was once said that when all evil on Earth had been eliminated the flames would die out. Gabriel hadn’t seen them burning this brightly in a long time. He felt a deep sense of foreboding about what was coming. To take on Hell’s army, on its doorstep and with such a small contingent of angels was very poor planning on Heaven’s part
. What the Hell were they doing up there?
Why hadn’t the Ministry dispatched more troops for this engagement?

“Sir,” whispered Kari, nodding towards the gate. Kari was a tall, heavily built angel from the Department of Security, tasked with protecting archangels and other high ranking officials. Gabriel focused in on the gate. Its black iron wiring was starting to peel away the huge two storey high solid rock doors. To the untrained eye, this gate would have been simply that, a gate. But angels knew better, Hell’s entrance would not be protected simply by some wrought iron pieces welded together onto rock. The sheer hellish spells alone would be enough to probably cripple an archangel let alone a standard rank and file.

A loud drudging sound pierced the quietness of the huge cavern as the gates slowly began to open, dust falling from the hinges sweeping down towards the invaders. A single silhouette could be seen approaching the gates from inside Hell. It was tall, stick thin and had a huge mop of flowing black hair. Gabriel could make out a long dishevelled black cloak and a red chain round his neck bearing a black, upside down cross.

“Stay in formation!” commanded Gabriel loudly, as he and his bodyguards moved forward to investigate further. He had expected the gates to open and legions of demons to come pouring out, throwing them into a fight to the death for days or even weeks. Something was very wrong. As they moved forward, outwards from their assembled lines Gabriel could see the dark silhouette holding something in under the cloak and he stopped.

“Time to die,” came a quiet whisper from the unnamed demon standing at the gates of Hell. As he spoke the words from the jagged hole in his face, spit and blackish blood oozed out. The words seemed to reverberate off every small nook and cranny in the cavern, filling it effortlessly. The demon presented a large wooden staff encrusted with a single gold ring around its tip and placed it in front of him. He pointed it towards the roof and let out a high pitch ghoulish scream. Echoes shrilled around the cave, dust and small stones fell as a consequence onto the unflinching angels.

“FALL BACK!” shouted Gabriel to his troops, immediately recognizing what was about to befall them. But it was too late. They couldn’t escape, their powers were being blocked. That damn cursed staff! Gabriel looked up, knowing there was no point in trying to run. His bodyguards tried to engage the cloaked figure in hand to hand combat but some form of protection was stopping them getting close. Other angels desperately tried to blast huge chunks of rock from the walls of the cavern in a futile attempt to tunnel out. The vast ceiling of the cavern lit up. A dark blue ocean of water was forming high above, causing a brief hiatus in the panic among the angels, who stopped to gaze.

Then, without warning, a swirl of fire shot upwards from the gates of Hell and engulfed the water. This body of water pounded down towards the floor of the cavern. Water and fire mixed together with hail fell in amounts unfathomable to human minds. The demon at the gates walked calmly back into Hell’s vast corridors whilst the gates rapidly closed behind him, a slight bright sheen could be seen as they locked. Gabriel could not believe his eyes, as he attempted to swim towards a high rock, he was being pelted by huge stones of fiery hail. All around him angels floated, their charred remains still bubbling in the heat of the water. Severed, charred chunks of skin floated along the surface of the water amidst body parts: eyes, fingers, toes. He looked up towards the roof once more and saw a huge fireball pounding towards him at heightening speed, spitting flames of coordinated fire in every direction. Gabriel knew this was it.  “Bless me, my Father,” he whispered, making the sign of the cross over his chest.