Dark Fall II
Part I - The Vanished
Chapter 6: The Lighthouse
(1)
Zack stripped out of his clothes and laid in bed with the lights out for several hours in order to give the illusion he'd fallen asleep just in case he was being watched.
Luckily he was wide awake, so there was no chance of accidentally falling asleep, but he was a little bit ADD, so just lying there doing nothing was kind of boring.
He checked his watch periodically. When it finally said 1 AM, he got out of bed and without turning the light on put his clothes back on. He opened his travel bag out and fished around in it for a while, finally pulling out a flashlight and some batteries that he pocketed in his jacket. Then it was time for his plan to go into action.
He pressed his face against the window and looked outside very carefully.
He could see nothing all around. That didn't mean there was no one out there, though. Or was there? Well, perhaps he was about to find out.
He really couldn't make out any signs of life as he looked carefully outside the window for several minutes. He paid very special attention to any shadowy areas in particular. He could see nothing moving whatsoever. It was decided for certain in that moment, then. He was going to chance it.
He was very lucky that his window was right next to a tree. 'Just a little too easy, guys.' he briefly thought to himself. Or maybe that was on purpose.
As he carefully and slowly pushed his window open, trying to be as silent as possible, he realized that he felt like a kid again. Gosh, it had been such a long time since he'd done anything he wasn't supposed to be doing. In some ways, becoming an adult sucked.
He carefully stepped out towards the tree, grabbed the branch, and let his feet go. Carefully, and with not nearly as much grace as he'd used to have when he'd been a kid, shimmied down the tree.
'Whew.' he thought. He sure could go for some exercise. He made a mental note to start going back to the gym again on a regular basis when he returned to LA.
He turned around and looked back toward the dark building. He'd half expected Mary and Jerry to be looking at him out one of the windows. Busted!
But no, the shades were all shut, and the building was dark. Zack turned all around him. No movement anywhere. Nothing. Fetch Rock was as silent as the dead. Eerily silent.
Did they really have a curfew here in which no one enforced? Was everyone actually asleep? Did no one patrol the streets? It seemed unlikely, but it was impossible to be certain. Zack knew what a terrible risk he was taking, but what else could he do? This could very well be his only chance.
Maybe they had one or two people patrolling the streets somewhere, but Zack had never seen evidence of that. He thought back, though, to how they had seemed to know exactly when he had gone to bed the other night. It made him feel wary. Perhaps he was already busted. Maybe they had something with which they could see into his room at all times. Maybe it was only a matter of time before someone came after him to retrieve him.
Oh, well. He'd come this far. Might as well see this through as far as he could until the jig was up.
Sticking to the shadows, he was off.
(2)
His advantage was that the city was pitch black. No street lights or anything. Still, he didn't take any chances.
The full moon was out. He stuck to going in between the buildings where he could and staying directly off the streets.
He didn't dare switch on his flashlight. Here, the darkness was his friend. He was one with it, blended with it, and as far as he was concerned, the more darkness the better.
He was not accosted on his way to the docks. There was no one at the docks. As he looked around, he couldn't see any evidence he'd been followed.
The rowboats were waiting for him, just ripe for the taking, all ready to go. He prowled around the area for a bit, trying to make certain there really seemed to be no one around watching him. Somewhat satisfied, but still wary, he finally got inside one of the boats, untied it, and was off.
The moon glistened upon the water of the ocean, illuminating the water, guiding his path.
He really hoped to high heaven he wasn't visible to the town from here.
After a while, he arrived at the island and disembarked. He glanced at his watch. 1:33. Not bad, but he would have to hurry. He would need to be back in his room sound asleep by sunrise.
He realistically wanted to be back in his room well by 4 AM. No telling how early people in this town actually got up.
He headed up a path on the island. As he looked upward, the lighthouse loomed above him.
(3)
He walked up the sandy beach and up to a rocky path that led to where the lighthouse was. Old stone steps were placed in the ground that led up to its door.
He came up to the lighthouse door. He suddenly realized that for all he knew it might be locked. If that were the case, then he would feel pretty stupid for having come all this way for nothing. Of course, he could always break the door down, but even if he was leaving tomorrow, he didn't want to leave evidence he'd ever been here.
He tried the door. It was not locked, and it swung open, much to his relief. He quickly stepped inside and turned on his flashlight.
He was in a small entry room that held nothing of particular interest. There was a light switch, but he dared not turn it on. No need alerting the town that something was amiss by advertising his presence.
There was a stairwell leading down to his right, and as he took it he came upon the boiler room. The massive boiler sat to his left, and a smaller room opened to his right. He stepped in and shined his light around. Nothing much. Just some pipes running across the wall and a few switches he didn't feel the need to bother messing with.
The next room was just a storage room. A stairwell leading up into the main part of the lighthouse was to his left. He started to climb it, and came to a door with a hole in it.
He opened it and saw the chunk that was missing from the door was lying on the ground, along with an axe. He found the sight of it to immediately be rather chilling.
'Odd' he thought.
He was at the stone spiral staircase. He ascended. At the top of the first level was a desk with a bunch of books and papers and stuff on it and the like. A large map of the surrounding ocean was above it. Zack messed around with some of the stuff on the desk, but he found nothing interesting.
There was a door to right of the desk, before the staircase's continued ascent. He opened it and entered.
Obviously, this was the crew room. There was a table for eating with a stove off to the right and a pantry to the very right of where he'd just entered. All the amenities and necessities for where the crew had their daily meals.
Zack shined his light around carefully, making sure not to flash it across the window. He flicked his light off for a second and went over to the window to look outside. Nothing. No activity in the town whatsoever. It was still as dead as ever. He was relieved yet still alert. He had to wonder at his luck by this point. Did they really not know he was out here yet? A grim thought of him arriving back in his room and finding Archimedes sitting on his bed, waiting for him, flashed through his mind. He pushed it out of his mind and resolved to focus on what he was here for. The rest he'd simply take as it came along.
Satisfied that there seemed to be no activity in the town, he flicked his light back on and poked around the room thoroughly. He went through the pantry, cabinets, everything. The food in the pantry was fresh, which was surprising to him. Had the people from the town used the lighthouse recently in one of their fake 'Holy Days?' There were quite a few perishable items in the pantry that looked like they had just come fresh from the grocery store.
There was nothing else of note in this room. He was beginning to think that maybe he was just wasting his time by this point. What did he really expect to find here, anyways? Yet, with the curiosity of the food, he knew he had to press forward.
He headed over to the door. There was a blower next to the door. It was a rather old device used for the crew to communicate with each other from different levels. It was a small thing that looked like the circular receiver from a really old telephone.
For no particular reason, Zack took it off its holder and put it to his ear.
There was the sound of scratching coming from it.
It made Zack's hair stand up on end. Now that was odd. What exactly was causing that?
He almost said hello into the end, but he caught himself. He carefully set it back on its holder.
He told himself there must be a logical explanation for it. Still, he suddenly felt cautious and wary. He suddenly felt kind of scared to even have his flashlight on now. He realized it had never occurred to him there might actually be someone stationed in the lighthouse, someone who stayed in the lighthouse at all times, keeping watch over it, manning it. If that was the case, now Zack was all alone in here with whoever.
But then again, there was no evidence that that was the case, though. Just some weird scratching. Perhaps it was nothing. Was it picking up the sound of rats in the building, maybe?
Zack was already here, anyways. He reminded himself he should keep to his resolve, no matter what the cost. If nothing could be proven for certain, he should press on.
He left the room. He climbed the stairwell until he came to another landing where there was a second door. He opened this one and looked inside. This was the quarters where the crew slept. He slipped inside and began looking around for anything notable.
He started feeling a little foolish, honestly. He wasn't sure what he'd expected to find here. There were two bunk beds opposite each other. There was also a bookcase with nothing of interest, tables, personal items of the crew members, a chest on the floor...
Curious, though not really expecting to find anything, he opened it. Nothing but clothes and stuff. He rummaged through them anyways. He felt something crinkle. He pulled out several pairs of pants and found a handful of pages underneath. Zack pulled them out.
The writing was neat, but looked a little haphazard, like the author had been writing faster than necessary.
I need to put my thoughts down here. I think I will go insane if I keep them in my head. Maybe I am insane. I could tell Robert, but what on Earth would he think of me? I wasn't dreaming. I saw the face of God! How terrifying it was! Oliver has seen the face of God, too. I witnessed it from afar, but Oliver has actually touched the face of God! A transfiguration. We have been taught the existence of such things before, but how terrifying and grand it was to behold!
We are taught to never write down onto paper anything having to do with the faith to which we hold to, not of tenants of our faith, nor our doctrine, nor our theology, nothing! I could be in serious trouble if these things I'm scribbling down right now were to ever be found. But I must write them down! I might go mad if I keep them in my head! I thought of telling Robert, but I have no idea what he might say! He might report me.
Yes, we all have faith. We all serve God with all our hearts and souls in hopes of receiving the promised paradise someday, but to say that one has actually witnessed the visible essence and ephemeral divinity of God, why, I might be considered as having been given over to delusion! Yes, our Lord does work miracles in our midst, but it is also written:
'Who has seen the Face of God? Who hast known the Mind of God? Who can look upon the Face of the Mighty Lord and Live except for those whom He chooses?'
It is also written:
'Behold, I tell you a great mystery! We shall not all of us live in the ignorance of the darkness, but some of us shall be shown the Face of God, and whenupon this happens, there shall be the signs of the beginning of the end of the age.'
Is that what I have just witnessed? The beginning of the end of the age? We are taught:
'No man knoweth the day nor date nor hour when Our Lord shall stand against the sun and His mighty darkness shall blight out the light of the sun, for Light is the knowledge of Man, but He shall trample upon all knowledge of Man and shall reduce their wisdom to ashes. Their ignorance shall be their devolution. Their eternal dissolution to the ignorance of outer darkness shall be assured. But to those who have cast off their foolish human ignorance and have instead have sought true knowledge, the knowledge of the divine, the knowledge of the Eternal Aeon, they shall, too, cast off their fleshly forms, and thus be united to their True Spirit Forms, and those who have cast off the fleshy desires of this Earth in the Most Holy and Divine Search for the True Knowledge which Saves, they shall be of the Purest Spirit, and they shall be given Kingdoms over the Earth to rule until the Great and Horrible Day of the Last Millennium when all the Earth shall be judged, and yea, they too shall be the Judges. Nobody knows when this Great and Horrible Day shall occur.'
Is the Great and Horrible Day upon us?
I had known Oliver had been acting strange in the last month, we both knew it, but neither of us could have had any idea. He had always been a very quiet type. But then he'd started becoming downright strange. His faith had taken a strange turn in the prior few weeks. He'd started spending most of his time sitting at the kitchen table, or at his post, or in his bed, doing nothing but reading the sacred scriptures obsessively nonstop. Now, I do not blaspheme by saying it is a wrong thing to be wholly committed and devoted to one's faith, but how can I put this? Something about it didn't seemed quite right at first. It scared me. I know it rather concerned Robert, too. Oliver hasn't been able to speak to us without most of his speech being that of scriptures from the Holy Book. We had become convinced maybe he'd become a little mad. Especially after what he'd been through recently. I was most certain of this when I was alone with him up at the top one evening and he said to me:
"You want to know what I've seen, James?"
"No, sir." I asked him.
"I dare not blaspheme by saying that I have seen it. For the scriptures say: 'Test the spirits, so that ye may know and it shall be true that ye are not coming to understand and believe false doctrine. For if any man should say: 'I know of the divine, and have seen its true essence, the living proof of its ephemeral form' and upon testing the spirits, it cannot be proven that he has truly seen the divine, he shall be a labeled heretic, a blasphemer. Such as these shall not be tolerated. But if he has seen the Essence of the Divine, but does not say it, then he is a prophet, and he shall prophecy, and his prophecies shall come to pass, and ye shall know by the truth of his words that he has in fact seen the divine, and indeed, has transcended unto another realm entirely. Then ye shall know that the end is near.'"
He looked me straight in the eyes while saying all of this. There was something about his eyes. Something unusual. It frightened me.
"Do you know of this passage, James?" he said, still not taking his eyes off of me.
"I know it indeed, sir. We have been taught about it many times."
"And who do you say I am?" he said.
His question confused me, and I didn't know how to answer.
"You are Oliver Drake, the head lighthouse keeper." I said to him. It was the only think I could think of to say.
"The harbinger is coming." he said.
"What?" I asked him, utterly confused about what he was saying.
"But first," he said, completely ignoring my question. "There must be offerings. For without the sanctification of that which is corrupt and imperfect, how then can we achieve that which must be done, the heralding in of that Great and Terrible Day?"
I was uncertain of how to answer him. "W... well..." I said. "I have partaken of the Divinely Transferred Blood, and tasted the Flesh, just like everyone else."
"But of whose blood is it necessary to bring about the Glorious Appearing? Who must be offered as a sacrifice?" he asked.
Again, I didn't know how to answer him. I was never taught anything in our faith like what he was saying right then.
"I don't recall anything of such sort in the scriptures." I said carefully, wondering the chilling thought if he had perhaps he'd become a delusional heretic and we might all be in danger because of him.
"Behold, I tell you a great mystery." he said slowly. "We shall not all be True or Pure Spirits, but some of us, not all of us, shall transcend beyond all of things early, and we shall herald in the end of the age."
"That, uh... that isn't scriptural..." I said.
"And if the things I speak do not come to pass, then thou shalt raise thy hands against me, and I shall be judged most severely, and not just unto myself, but unto the Third and Fourth generations. Yet, if I speak the truth, and thou shalt try to raise thy hand against me, then shalt not thy own Eternal Assurance be stripped away from you instead? Tell me, James, is it best that thou should raise thy hand against me?"
"What kind of sacrifices are we talking about again?" I asked, trying to divert the question.
"Does it frighten you, James, the thought of being a sacrifice?" I was frightened by his eyes, not just the way he was looking at me, but the way it appeared as if he was looking into my very soul. "Ah, but I should be so honored to be that first Purest Sacrifice!" he said with surefire conviction as he turned his head to look outward toward Fetch Rock, much to my relief. "But what about you, James? Are you not willing to go before me? And Robert, too? Would you be willing to take my place if God were to so appear before you? Or would you rebel and turn away from the Divine Will, should there come to be truth to these things of which I do not speak yet allude to?"
I do not joke. He talked exactly in this manner the entire conversation. I assured him I would not turn against him. What else could I say? I knew what he was saying. Anyone in this town would know what he was saying. He was claiming to have seen the Face of God, yet he could not say it in those exact words, for to say it in that exact manner would be blasphemy. But he alluded that he had indeed seen the face of God. And he had also talked about sacrifices. He referred to us 'going before him.' He had asked me if I were afraid of being a sacrifice. What did that mean? Did he plan to kill us?
This was an urgent matter I finally ended up bringing before Robert. Some of the things Oliver spoke of most definitely were not in the scriptures, even though I know the scriptures do say:
'Dost anyone have understanding of God? Let him proclaim unto all the Earth the mysteries of God and the foundations of the universe. But there are many mysteries of which man knoweth not, and even in these scriptures, these many mysteries and truths are written not. If a man sayeth that God hast revealed these new mysteries to him, do not discount him immediately, for the Lord may have revealed these things unto him. If he speaketh the truth, he shall prophesy, and indeed all the things he speaks of shall come to pass. Indeed, shall God not also even give such a man the power to call down fire from heaven? Shall you surely test one of God's holy prophets? For if thou raise thy hand against God's Chosen, even though it be in error, shall not the God of All Truth, who IS Knowledge, and IS Wisdom, and IS Holy, and IS Eternal, shall He not also visit pestilence and curses upon you and your descendants unto the third and fourth generations? So be careful that thou dost not raise thy hand against God's holy prophets, even in error. But if the prophet speaketh of things which do not come to pass, he shall be called a Heretic, and he shall be cast out from the Holy Covenant.'
Zack didn't know what to make of reading all of this. It was mind blowing, to be sure, but now he suddenly felt his trip here had definitely not been wasted. He was actually getting some insight as to the teachings of the cult and the way its members thought. Not to mention some shred of insight as to what may have actually taken place here concerning the legend of the lighthouse keepers. It was all very fascinating, and he was riveted. He read on.
Because of this passage, I cannot immediately discount Oliver's claim to have met the divine. Yet, I also feel he may have genuinely threatened our lives. And if he's gone mad, should we not do whatever we can to protect ourselves? Robert and I agreed that we needed to take it before the Holy Council and submit it as a Suspicion of Heresy. Robert went into town the next day and got it arranged. Without Oliver's knowledge, we attended a special meeting in our temple under the municipal building and conferred. Though they sympathized with our plight and expressed concern, they also could not bring themselves to raise their hand against a claim of Prophecy, just in case it might turn out to be actually true.
Rather, we were allowed to arm ourselves just in case he tried to commit a foul deed. We were to watch and report on his behavior on a regular basis. However, we were also told that even if he were to attack us, we raised our hands against him at our own peril.
This was a great conundrum for me. If I raised my hand against God's chosen, I would endure a punishment far worse than death for all eternity. Yet, do I just stand by and let myself get killed in the hopes of not angering God and achieving eternal paradise someday? Ah, if only my flesh were weaker and my spirit stronger. I am still tied down to this world. It haunts me every night. I could be so much more into the scriptures and the things of the spirit, things of which are eternal and not temporal. But I know that I am not. And thus, I might raise my hand against Oliver if he ever came after me as a blood sacrifice.
It alighted unto me one evening that Oliver would disappear for very long periods of time. I did wonder where he was going. We do not leave the lighthouse unless we have very good reason, not until our season is up and the next crew is scheduled to be rotated in. If we do, it MUST be either a supply run or an emergency like our Suspicion of Heresy, so where exactly was he going?
I ascertained that when he disappeared, he most definitely couldn't be found inside the lighthouse. Nor could I find him when I searched for him around the island. Yet - here is the strange part – all the boats were still tethered. All of them. Unless he had developed the sudden ability to walk on water, no way could he leave the island. So where was he?
I did have my chance to follow him one night. I had been stalking him closely the entire day, trying to make sure I knew his whereabouts at all times. Finally, he left his room, heading swiftly down the stairwell, eyes and body language set on a certain mission. I was hidden in the shadows. This was my chance.
He left the lighthouse, but did not leave the island. I followed him, until we both came to the side of the island facing away from town. There is a part where the island raises up and is higher than the rest of it. Oliver walked into the shallow water, and I followed him carefully, walking around the part of the island that is raised up. He disappeared... I thought I had lost him for a moment, but then upon pressing forward and looking down, I saw that there was an opening on the side of the island. A cave.
Cautiously, I went back around and stepped down into the shallow water, being very careful to make as little noise as possible. It's in the middle of December and the water was freezing. My feet were chilled to the bone and I shuddered at the icy wind. I crept through the opening of the cave. I was careful not to make any noise. I couldn't see Oliver. I was scared to death I would run into him here. What might he do to me? I didn't want to think about that. But the cave went on in a linear path, and as I rounded a corner, I saw him and stopped suddenly. I was afraid he would suddenly look in my direction and I would be caught, but he didn't. I saw that he was standing quite still. The cave came to a dead end, yet opened up into a widened area. One thing I noticed that didn't make any sense was that I could see the area perfectly considering the cave was generally pitch black. It was also nighttime. I'd had to be very careful making my way through the cave, in fact. I'd even wondered how Oliver could be moving through the cave easily without any sort of light. But while the rest of the cave was pitch black, I could see this area perfectly. It made no sense. But neither did the strange object Oliver was standing before. I couldn't see it clearly, because I was not close to it, but it was metal all around, and in a weird shape.
Oliver stood before it, perfectly still, unmoving, unblinking. It was all very scary. Then, all of a sudden, a bright red light started coming from the object. There was also the sudden unusual feeling of a presence. I cannot describe how or why I felt that, but all of a sudden I knew that there was something else in that space.
The red light illuminated everything, and I pulled back and hid around the corner, I had this horrible fear the red light would find me and I would be exposed. Yet, I could not withhold my curiosity. I peeked around the corner. Oliver was being bathed in the red light. His appearance was as if he was on fire.
The red light illuminated the room, but it was as if it was being drawn to him, absorbed into him. Oliver started speaking, but he was not speaking in English. It sounded like no other language I'd ever heard of. Then, the metallic object started to talk back in the same language! It chilled me to the bone! But then... I swear, I started to be able to see it! It was there!
We have been taught on manifestations and transfigurations... Oliver had indirectly claimed to have made contact with God and become a prophet! I was most certainly convinced this was the case now.
That I felt horror at what I saw doesn't cause me much doubt for a second that it was God. The scriptures do speak of the terrifying and horrifying reactions one would have upon seeing the face of God for the first time. Indeed, isn't that what the whole world will feel when that day finally comes?
But what did it mean of his implications of sacrifice?
I feel utterly terrified. Oh, how I wish my faith were stronger! I wish I could give in fully to Divine Will, but yet, at that very moment, I suddenly started to realize just how much I valued my own life! I have a family! I enjoy my life in the town very much! I am attached to the things of this world! I want to live!
The scriptures say:
'We are not conformed to this husk of a world perishing in all ignorance and lack of knowledge, but we are continually enlightened, transformed into the essence of God and the Universe, yet if a man loves the world and the things of the world, the power of ignorance and darkness is truly strong within him, and the love of the Divine Will of the Holy Father is not in him..."
Yes. I love the things of this world far more than the Divine Will. I love the life I live. Is it so bad that things might be ending soon? I was scared. I am scared. I needed to think. I carefully got out of that cave as fast as I could. As I started to leave, it seemed the conversation Oliver was having ceased. As I walked around the island and hit the beach, I could've sworn I heard footsteps behind me in the shallow waters. Oliver must have been right behind me! I fled as quickly as I could. I hoped I would run into Robert, but he was not in the crew room nor our quarters. I could hear the footsteps making their way purposefully up the stairs,
It took Zack a moment to realize that there were actual footsteps coming up the stairs and not just in what he was reading. He froze in shock and sudden fear. He could hear them making their way up, strong, loud, not fast, but at a normal pace... yet moving with purpose. He turned off his flashlight and pulled himself into a dark corner of the room. He listened carefully. The footsteps were on their way up to the second landing where he was.
So, someone else was in the lighthouse with him after all! He realized now that he had been possibly busted! Or maybe someone had followed him from town. Was this it? Was the jig up? He heard only one pair of footsteps. Zack was fully prepared for assault if need be. He had only his flashlight, but that would be enough. But what if there were more of them?
The footsteps were almost to the second landing... then they stopped. Zack held his breath. He listened. Nothing. Was the person waiting on the stairs? Was he waiting for Zack to chance drawing himself out? Zack waited for about 10 minutes. The movement did not resume itself. Zack would have no choice. He couldn't wait forever. Cautiously, he opened the door. No one at the landing. He chanced moving carefully down the stairs. No one. No one at all. He went all the way as far back as the entrance to the lighthouse, pausing to check the crew room as he went by. He did not find a single soul.
Confused, he worked his way back to where he had started. It suddenly occurred to him. Was the lighthouse haunted? Had he perhaps heard a ghost? Maybe one of the ghosts of the crew members? Maybe when he'd started reading about Oliver coming up the stairs, he had actually heard...
No, that was crazy. Maybe the person was somewhere else in the lighthouse. Maybe the person had switched to tiptoeing and was now on a higher level. Maybe someone was trying to scare him. Maybe they were toying with him before they finally got the drop on him. Or maybe this place was just getting to him and his imagination was causing him to imagine he'd heard footsteps. This was a downright creepy place. And that journal, he wasn't sure how much of James's story he actually believed, but the story was weirding him out quite well so far. Yet, it was also his first major clue. After he was done searching the lighthouse top to bottom, he was going to go down and see if he could find that cave. If he could verify the cave was for real, it might tell a lot.
Maya... could it really be possible you were here and stumbled onto something you shouldn't have seen? Am I on the verge of stumbling onto something I shouldn't see?
James' letter made it quite clear now what the big secret to the municipal building was. Zack now wanted more than ever to have a peek inside. But he knew that would be physically impossible. Even being here, in this place, right now, he was really pushing it.
Zack made his way back to the crew quarters, being cautious the entire way. He took the pages from the trunk again and resumed where he had left off.
I could hear the footsteps making their way purposefully up the stairs, and it chilled me to the bone. I know this is rather childish, but I actually hid under the bed. He came into our quarters. I did not make a sound. He stopped and just stood there for a while. I have no idea how long he was standing there, though it felt like forever. What was he doing? Was he looking for me? Did he know I was there? Eventually he left. I could hear him heading up to his room. Eventually Robert came back. He'd been on a run into town to get some supplies. I don't know if I should tell him. I could get into serious trouble for writing these things down. I also think I'm in serious trouble for the fact that I am fearing for my life.
It is written in the scriptures:
'For if any man wish to preserve his life, the will of the Divine Father is not in him, and in him is all ignorance and darkness and all the transgressions of the hollow corrupted Earth. But if any man give himself over to divine transfiguration, sacrifice, and all forms of holiness in accordance with the will of the Divine Father, he shall be transcended, and his fullness shall be restored to that which it was before the very beginning of time. He shall not endure the wrath to come, but shall be reformed into the Likeness of God, and he shall become like God, and he shall become God. But whosoever defies the Divine Will of the one true Lord shall be tormented day and night. He shall not be like those who live in ignorance in the outside world who shall be punished on that Great and Horrible Day, but he, who had the truth and spit upon it, shall be tormented forever and ever in the farthest realms of Outer Darkness and there shall be no rest for him forever and ever.'
I should not fear for my life. I should give it up willingly. To protect myself is to defy our God. But why am I suddenly thinking of running away, getting away from this town altogether? I might never make it, of course. But I am also thinking of killing Oliver. Maybe I could get to him before he gets to me. But if I raise my hand against the chosen of God, will not my efforts be in vain? I pray for my lack of devotion. I have to admit, when I saw Oliver talking to God in that cave, I didn't have the reaction I would have expected to have. Potential proof of our religion should have filled me with renewed hope. But at the sight of God, it was all I could feel but horrific dread. I know I'm sounding like a full heretic now, but if Oliver has truly made contact with God… God scares me. I hope that when the time comes, I can give up my life willingly. Then I, too, shall be standing in the sun on That Day...
- James Wolff
Zack took the pages, tucked it in his large coat pocket where it actually fit, and zipped it up. He had no idea what to think of what he had just read. But this was a gem that would come in handy later.
Archimedes had told him that the religion was just a sham and simply used to control the people. A very strange thought occurred to Zack, one that he could not possibly believe he was having...
What if it actually was real?
Now, he certainly didn't think that out of all the world's religions this one just happened to be the one that was completely true and trustworthy. But what if it was based off not so much of a sham but there was actually some sort of otherworldly power at work here? Ridiculous, but...
Why had Archimedes invited him to that service? Why had he lied to him the night before inviting him to that service, putting on that show, and then pulling him into his office to divulge 'the truth?'
If Zack were fully convinced that everything was just a carefully elaborated scheme to keep control over the townspeople and nothing about it was even remotely real, he would have been forced to admit he was at a dead end. He would have had to leave.
What if Archimedes was only trying to get rid of him so he wouldn't dig any deeper? He didn't know. He was confused about everything. None of it seemed to add up nor make any coherent sense at this point.
Zack looked at his watch. 1:50. He was going to keep digging. He didn't have much time left, but by God, he was he going to keep digging. He left the crew's quarters and began climbing the final stairwell. He was going to check out Oliver's room next. He half expected to be assaulted when he entered. The door was right in front of him on the third landing, and a ladder was off to his left, leading up to where the aerodrome lens was. Zack headed for Drake's room first.
Zack flashed his light all around. It was an office. This was where the head lighthouse keeper did all his work, kept his logs, and all that sort of stuff. The huge desk taking up a third of the small room was covered with paraphernalia and important papers pertaining to running the lighthouse. There was not much else. There were some paintings on the wall, but that was about it. There was another door behind the desk on the far wall. He opened it and looked inside, still half expecting someone to jump out. Just clothes. It was just a closet.
He closed the closet door and shined his light down onto the desk. The first thing he went for was the drawers. He opened the first drawer and saw the first oddity.
There were some papers inside that apparently Oliver had done some drawings on. They were not great drawings. They were very crude, done with colored pencils, and looked like something a child might have done in grade school.
The first one had a bulky, graying object in the center. It had four square holes running horizontally, each colored a different color. Yellow... Red... Blue... Purple.
There was a blackish thing hovering above it. Two red spots were in it... eyes?
Zack turned the paper over. On the back was written: The Divinity
The next drawing was of the lighthouse. The light was shining out over the waters, and a meteor was coming down from the sky, angled in the direction of the lighthouse. There was a black stick figure drawing of a man standing on the water, poised towards the lighthouse.
Zack turned this one around. On the back was written: The Harbinger.
The next one was of in the shape of a man, but it was entirely in red. Zack turned this one over: The Prophet
The final piece of paper was some sort of crudely written poem:
I met a man at the top of the stairs that wasn't there.
He was red, and had no face, and his appearance terrified me so.
I gazed into the abyss, and the abyss gazed back.
I screamed, and turned, and ran.
When I had run as far as I dared, I came upon a looking glass.
I looked inside, and I realized that I had become the red man.
When a man gazes into the abyss, does the abyss not gaze back at him?
When a man looks the divine in the face, does he not become divine himself?
If a man looks into the face of God and lives, does he not become God too?
Nothing was written on the back of this one. Zack folded these up and stuck them in his other coat pocket and zipped it up. There was nothing else of interest in the desk drawer. He tried the others, but found nothing else of interest in them either. He shined his light back on the desk. There was a large book sitting right in the middle of the desk. He had assumed upon first looking upon it that it was just a log book, but just in case, he opened it up and had a look inside.
The name 'Oliver Drake, 1896' was written inside the front cover. Zack turned a page. He was shocked to realize that he was looking at Oliver's personal journal! Jackpot!
He turned the pages quickly, perusing for anything of interest. He would not have time to sit here and read the whole thing, and the book was far too big to stuff in his coat or carry with him.
He flipped to the middle of the big book. As he skimmed passages, flipping pages rapidly, one caught his eye. He knew this was what he was looking for. He backed up several entries, trying to find the beginning of this particular time frame. Then he began reading:
October 18, 1901
The loneliness overtakes me... first losing my wife, then my two little girls. Fate can be so cruel. Added to the miscarriage of my first child, it seems almost as if God spits in my face. He does not want me to be happy. Father Josiah encourages me that God has good reason for everything, nothing He does is without purpose in the Divine Plan. I don't know if I believe that anymore. Did God really need to take Maria and my two... no, THREE girls? What purpose could it possibly serve in the whole of the Divine Plan? I cannot bear it. I dare not go seeking after happiness again, for I am sure it would be taken from me once more. I am losing my faith... I am searching harder than ever before. I want answers. I want the truth. I call out the name of God, but He does not answer me.
- Oliver Drake
October 30th, 1901
This job suits me. I am alone with my thoughts. One might think it necessary to surround oneself with lots of people and lots of love when recovering from as great a tragedy as this in one's life. Not me. The more people who come into my life, the more torment I am setting myself up for affliction in my soul. I cannot stand it anymore. Here, in solitude, this is peace. I have shut the door to the outside world. I shall never leave this post. I shall let no one into my heart, lest they fill the void inside my weak existence and then are taken from me to make it bigger than ever before. My crewmates must think I'm a cold man - and that is true, perhaps - but I do not dislike nor despise anyone. This is simply the only way I can exist. It's just me and God - though I often doubt nowadays if his presence really exists or if He is even real.
- Oliver Drake
November 13th, 1901
I had a dream last night. I was surrounded by a void of total darkness. The eyes of God looked out at me through the darkness. He told me: "Everything that has happened has been for a purpose. I am about to restore you. You shall have a greater destiny than all who have come before you and shall yet come after you. You are my prophet." The dream comforted me, yet terrified me. I know it was just a dream, but the idea that God might have a special purpose for me - how I so long for it to be true!
- Oliver Drake
December 1st, 1901
I felt led to go for a walk around the island today. It is often said that when we feel led sucH as in the way I feLt it is the prompting of God moving to show us something. That's how I Felt. I cannot describe it. He led me down to the beach on the back of the island, and directeD Me to walk in the shallow waters around the island, the part where it elevates up. I did so, and behold, I CAme across an opening in the side of the ISland. I did not have a lIGHt on me, but I felt compeLLed to move forward anyways. Funny thing, I could actually see everything in front of me clearly without a light, though it was acTually pitch black inside. I came to the enD of the cave, to a large, open area. I saw it: it was a large thIng, made of metal. What it was for sure, I could not be certaiN. But then it came alive, and GoD appeared before me. Yes, it was God. He revealed that He had given the dream to me. He had CaLLed me to Him so that I could fulfill a greatEr purpoSe. He gaVe me just a small DOse of His divine spirit. I caN already fEEl myself chanGing inside. it's WONderful.
- DraKe Oliver
The rest of the entries had no date.
aLL must be StriPPed AwaY. aLL eVil is beGeTTen of IgnoRance. tHe otherS do nOt knOw tHis. tHey aRe LosT. AlL are lOst. BuT thEy wILL stIll have a pArT in The DiviNe plAn. God'S merCy is InfIniTe. He haS shown ThuS to Me.
- OliveR Dr
mY identiTy waS revEAled to Me toDay.
-ThE ProphEt DraKe OliVer?
I CAN THINK MORE CLEARLY THAN EVER BEFORE. JAMES, HE WILL WORK AGAINST US. THERE IS MUCH WORK TO BE DONE. BUT HE IS PART OF THE PLAN TOO. HE IS ONE OF THE SACRIFICES. THE LORD'S WORK MUST BE DONE. I MUST CARRY OUT MY PLAN SOONER SO THAT HIS SOUL CAN BE SAVED TOO. GOD'S MERCY IS INIFINITE, BUT HIS WRATH IS ALSO HARSH AND UNRELENTING.
- THE PROPHET
THERE IS A HARBINGER COMING. HE WILL BRING ABOUT THE GLORIOUS APPEARING. I HAVE BEEN SHOWN THIS. THE MORE GOD POURS HIS SPIRIT INTO ME, THE MORE I GAIN PERSPECTIVE. I AM NOT THE SAME PERSON AS BEFORE. THEY DO NOT REALIZE THIS. ALL IS ABOUT TO CHANGE. THE HARBINGER INTRIGUES ME. AND I HATE HIM. AM I NOT THE ONE CHOSEN TO HERALD IN THE NEW AGE? BUT I AM JUST A PROPHET, THE PRIEST WHO HOLDS OPEN THE DOORWAYS, THE NECESSITY TO HERALD IN THE END. BUT IT IS HIS BLOOD THAT IS NEEDED, HIS POWER. WHO IS OF MORE USE TO GOD? ANYONE COULD HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO BRING ABOUT THE SACRIFICE, BUT IT IS HIS BLOOD AND SPIRIT WE NEED, HIS SOUL SPECIFICALLY. GOD HAS REVEALED THUS TO ME. I DON'T UNDERSTAND IT. I HATE HIM. I AM JEALOUS OF HIM. I WANT IT TO BE MY BLOOD THAT IS THE PERFECT SACRIFICE.
- THE PROPHET
MY VISION TRASCENDS BEYONDS TIME AND SPACE. I CAN SEE EVERYTHING MORE CLEARLY NOW. THE MORE I MERGE WITH THE SPIRIT OF GOD THE MORE I AM ABLE TO SEE WITH HIS EYES. I AM TRANSCENDING INTO MY DIVINITY.
- THE PROPHET
IS IT TOO MUCH THAT EVEN IN MY OWN TRANSCENDENCE I STILL WISH TO BE THE ONE WHO IS THE FINAL SACRIFICE WHO BRINGS ABOUT THE END OF THE AGE? I MAY BE DIVINE, REFORMED, TRANSFORMED, YET I ALL I AM DOING IS HELPING MOVING EVENTS ALONG. I AM NOT THE TRIGGER. I WANT TO BE THE TRIGGER. BLOOD MUST BE SPILLED. THAT IS THE TRIGGER. THE HARBINGER HAS BEEN CHOSEN FOR THIS PURPOSE. HIS MIND. HIS GIFT. I AM NOT THE HARBINGER. WHAT I AM DOING IS NOT ENOUGH. I WANT TO BE THE HARBINGER. I WANT MY DESTINY TO THE MOST IMPORTANT IN THE EYES OF MY GOD. I DESPISE THE HARBINGER. HE DOES NOT EVEN KNOW OUR GOD. HE DOES NOT CARE! I CARE. I SHOULD BE THE ONE WHOSE BLOOD IS SPILT. BUT I DO NOT HAVE HIS SOUL. I LUST AFTER HIS SOUL. IS THAT SO WRONG?
- THE PROPHET
I HAVE SEEN A GREAT HORROR. THE HARBINGER - HE WORKS AGAINST US! THIS IS THE RESULT OF GOD HAVING CHOSEN A LAWLESS MAN. HE SEEKS TO RUIN US BECAUSE HE DOES NOT UNDERSTAND! I BRING MY PETITION BEFORE GOD, BUT HE ASSURES ME THIS IS THE WAY THINGS MUST HAPPEN. I LOATHE THE HARBINGER. I CAN SEE HIM. I CAN SEE HIS EVERY MOVE. HE WORKS IN THE PAST, THE PRESENT, AND THE FUTURE. HE IS IN ALL SIMULTANEOUSLY, AND I CAN SEE HIM SIMULTANEOUSLY. I CAN NOT SEE THE END RESULT BECAUSE GOD HAS NOT REVEALED THAT TO ME BUT I CAN SEE THE HARBINGER TRYING TO UNRAVEL EVERYTHING WE HAVE CREATED! HE WALKS OUR DESERTED STREETS, UNCOVERING OUR SECRETS! THE SUCCESSOR DID NOT DO HIS JOB... HE IS LOST IN SOME IGNORANCE, SURELY! THE PEOPLE GOD CHOOSES TO WORK WITH! I DO NOT UNDERSTAND! THE SOULS OF EVERYONE HAVE NOT BEEN YET ABSORBED INTO GOD, YET THEY HAVE... I CAN HEAR THEM, YET THIS HAS NOT HAPPENED YET. IT'S NOT ENOUGH. I REMEMBER WHEN SUCH A THING WOULD HAVE ONCE HORRIFIED ME BUT I SEE CLEARLY NOW. THE WOMAN THAT WALKS MY LIGHTHOUSE POKING AROUND - I WANT HER SOUL TOO! I WANT THE HARBINGER'S SOUL MOST OF ALL. I AM STARTING TO FEEL A SORT OF FEAR. SURELY GOD WOULD NOT PLAY A DECEPTION, BUT I AM ALMOST CERTAIN I AM NOT HIS MOST IMPORTANT CHOSEN ONE. I CAN SEE INTO THE FUTURE - I AM MOST CERTAIN I HAVE BEEN DISCARDED FROM IT. WHY CAN'T I SEE THE END RESULT? WHY DOES GOD WITHHOLD IT FROM ME? WHEN I COMPLETE MY END OF THE BARGAIN, WILL I NO LONGER BE USEFUL? THE HARBINGER... I AM CERTAIN HE IS THE MOST IMPORTANT TO GOD! EVEN IF HE DISAPPEARS TOO I WANT TO BE THE MOST IMPORTANT TO GOD INSTEAD OF HIM!
- THE PROPHET
I CAN SEE HIM. I CAN SEE EVERYTHING HE DOES. HE WALKS THE DOORS FREELY. MY PLACE IS ONLY HERE. WHY? HE MOVES FREELY. I WANT TO SPILL HIS BLOOD. GOD SAYS NOT YET. BUT IT WILL HAPPEN SOMEDAY. I WILL LOOK FORWARD TO IT. MY SPIRIT IS HERE ETERNALLY, YET MY PERSPECTIVE IS BROADENED. I CAN SEE INTO THE FUTURE. I CAN SEE IN THE PAST. IT MATTERS NOT IF MY VISION IS LIMITED. I CAN ONLY SEE WHAT GOD ALLOWS ME TO SEE. BUT THE HARBINGER, I CAN SEE HIM EVEN NOW, IN ANOTHER TIME, READING THESE WORDS THAT I AM WRITING DOWN. IT FILLS ME WITH SUCH LOATHING, SUCH RAGE. I AM STANDING BEHIND HIM EVEN RIGHT NOW, BECAUSE MY SPIRIT IS ALWAYS HERE. I WANT TO SPILL HIS BLOOD.
Zack turned the page.
I SEE YOU, ZACK MARTIN!
- THE PROPHET
Zack jumped back shocked and his blood ran cold. On instinct, he spun around. He was almost certain that when he did that he would see Oliver Drake, or his spirit, standing right behind him. But he didn't see a thing. He shined his light all over the room. Nothing. He was completely alone. He shined his light back down onto the page. That was his name, all right. How could this be possible? If this had been written ages ago, how could Oliver Drake have possibly known his name? And what was meant by 'Harbinger?' He wondered about this town and Archimedes. This twisted cult, did he actually factor into their plans somehow?
The very thought made him sick.
Perhaps the Zack Martin part was just a coincidence. But how could that be a coincidence? The odds were completely improbable.
But maybe the cult felt like he was important to their plans (what kind of plans?) for some weird reason. Could it be? And why him? What might he have that was so special they could possibly want? And why had they been trying to trick him? Why were they acting like they wanted him to leave? For what purpose? It just didn't make any sense!
Maybe something did happen to Maya. Perhaps they were planning on drawing him here. Maybe his blood was about to be spilled. Or had Oliver simply been a madman?
James, though, had sworn in his journal that he had witnessed Oliver conversing with 'God.'
Zack shuddered. He felt like he was finally beginning to uncover the pieces of the puzzle. There WAS something going on in this small town! And he had been ready to just pack up and leave tomorrow morning! He had believed Archimedes, had nearly completely given up! But here was PROOF. His stupid hunch had actually led to something! His imagination was going ninety-to-nothing. Would they really let him leave town alive? He needed to head back, get his stuff from his room, get in his car, and just take off. But what of these higher connections? Would they not be able to find a way to get him anyways? Had they kidnapped Maya? Was she alive or dead?
His mind was swirling. He needed to compose himself. But there was one thing left to do on this island. He needed to check out that cave. He wanted to see if there was any way he could see the 'Face of God' for himself. He knew this was an utmost dangerous risk, but he had come this far, and he couldn't stop now.
(4)
He moved briskly back the way he came, through the lighthouse. His watch said 2:30. He'd decided to skip checking out the part where the light was. There was likely nothing of interest up there anyways. Time was flying. He just wanted to check out the cave quickly and see if he saw anything of note. He was very apprehensive about what he might find in there. All in all, this had been a night of twisted revelations. He was not sure how much more he could take. However, as it turned out, he wouldn't be required to take much more tonight. His heart sank and caught in his throat as he opened the entrance door to the lighthouse and saw the lights and boats surrounding the island. Looked like a third of the town had turned out. He had been caught.
