The halls near the stairwell were a mess. Dozens of human bodies lay strewn
across the dim corridor; all with the same dark black burns on their legs
and lower torso. Flynn rounded the elliptical corners blasting at whatever
caused that fucking carnage—but always finding nothing.
He had heard stories about this thing from dying members of the wave 1 of his platoon's first dealing with Satan. They all called it the same thing: an Arch-vile. They were said to have come from the biblical Tenth Level and were the direct minions of both Beelzebub and Satan themselves. Only thirteen existed, and from his reckoning, five were killed of the First Wave.
It was all in the bible, but not the part we read. The Church had classified six chapters of the original Bible, known to them as the Book of Waning Time. The soldiers were all given a copy before leaving Gateway and were the only living humans to ever see it aside from the Pope and Father Theophilus, the only man to ever exorcise someone in real life.
Flynn spit out blood from a pierced vein on his lip. He had his shotgun in one hand and his pistol in the other, prepared to fire them both. He knew he would need to.
The Arch-vile made no noise as it rounded the corner and raised its arms above its head. A low muttering in Latin escaped his lips and his black eye glazed over fire red. He called his underlings.
Flynn heard the scampering of the imps immediately. He spun around and saw a sight that would haunt his dreams for his whole life. The chalk-white Arch-vile, six feet of rippling muscle and agility had his hands raised in a "Y" and behind him, rounding the corner, came rows upon rows of imps. Pushing, clawing, fighting, they came running on all fours. Several were crawling along the walls with such speed and agility that Flynn was scarcely sure he wasn't hallucinating.
He stood stunned for a moment, then regained his composure and fired systematically into the ranks. He retreated behind a steel door, windowless thank God, and reloaded frantically.
Behind him lay a chain gun, its slick and polished metal streaked with blood. He holstered his pistol and picked up the chain gun in one fluid motion. He kicked open the door and blasted at the imps in front of him spitefully. Rows fell but were resurrected by the Arch-vile, only to be felled again. The arch-vile proved to be, impossibly, impervious to bullets.
Flynn dove behind into the stairwell again. It was then that he remembered a verse from the Book of Waning Time:
"6. And Lucifer decreed that swords and spears shant vanquish the Arch- vile. For only a gouging from that of Hell could fell a beast from the Ninth Level or its minion."
He needed to draw the fucker onto one of the imps' spikes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This would take some thought. He was only half aware of the banging on the door until a small portion of it collapsed. It was the size of a bottle cap but was one of the scariest things Flynn ever saw.
On impulse, he dropped his guns and grabbed an I-beam on the ceiling, dangling him only three inches off the ground. The door caved in moments later, and he shifted his weight radically, sending a heavy and unexpected kick into the chest of the Arch-vile. Caught off guard, it lost balance and fell against an imp, spearing itself.
Spearing, and thereby killing itself. Horrified, it melted away to ash, as did the imps, who, by its calling, became its minions. Flynn fell to the ground relieved and only then did he notice he was standing in the stairway.
He walked down the steps triumphantly.
He had heard stories about this thing from dying members of the wave 1 of his platoon's first dealing with Satan. They all called it the same thing: an Arch-vile. They were said to have come from the biblical Tenth Level and were the direct minions of both Beelzebub and Satan themselves. Only thirteen existed, and from his reckoning, five were killed of the First Wave.
It was all in the bible, but not the part we read. The Church had classified six chapters of the original Bible, known to them as the Book of Waning Time. The soldiers were all given a copy before leaving Gateway and were the only living humans to ever see it aside from the Pope and Father Theophilus, the only man to ever exorcise someone in real life.
Flynn spit out blood from a pierced vein on his lip. He had his shotgun in one hand and his pistol in the other, prepared to fire them both. He knew he would need to.
The Arch-vile made no noise as it rounded the corner and raised its arms above its head. A low muttering in Latin escaped his lips and his black eye glazed over fire red. He called his underlings.
Flynn heard the scampering of the imps immediately. He spun around and saw a sight that would haunt his dreams for his whole life. The chalk-white Arch-vile, six feet of rippling muscle and agility had his hands raised in a "Y" and behind him, rounding the corner, came rows upon rows of imps. Pushing, clawing, fighting, they came running on all fours. Several were crawling along the walls with such speed and agility that Flynn was scarcely sure he wasn't hallucinating.
He stood stunned for a moment, then regained his composure and fired systematically into the ranks. He retreated behind a steel door, windowless thank God, and reloaded frantically.
Behind him lay a chain gun, its slick and polished metal streaked with blood. He holstered his pistol and picked up the chain gun in one fluid motion. He kicked open the door and blasted at the imps in front of him spitefully. Rows fell but were resurrected by the Arch-vile, only to be felled again. The arch-vile proved to be, impossibly, impervious to bullets.
Flynn dove behind into the stairwell again. It was then that he remembered a verse from the Book of Waning Time:
"6. And Lucifer decreed that swords and spears shant vanquish the Arch- vile. For only a gouging from that of Hell could fell a beast from the Ninth Level or its minion."
He needed to draw the fucker onto one of the imps' spikes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This would take some thought. He was only half aware of the banging on the door until a small portion of it collapsed. It was the size of a bottle cap but was one of the scariest things Flynn ever saw.
On impulse, he dropped his guns and grabbed an I-beam on the ceiling, dangling him only three inches off the ground. The door caved in moments later, and he shifted his weight radically, sending a heavy and unexpected kick into the chest of the Arch-vile. Caught off guard, it lost balance and fell against an imp, spearing itself.
Spearing, and thereby killing itself. Horrified, it melted away to ash, as did the imps, who, by its calling, became its minions. Flynn fell to the ground relieved and only then did he notice he was standing in the stairway.
He walked down the steps triumphantly.
