The Extremely Crappy Days at Ashfield High
Chappy Thirty Eight: The Endlessness of the Void
"You sure we'll find anything here in Jeremy's study?" inquired Catherine as she stifled a yawn. The room was hardly large, cramped with an assortment of crates and cabinets which were filled with numerous files and papers.
As she skimmed through a drawer, she answered, "There has to be something. I doubt Grandfather thoroughly checked everything; he only used the room temporarily. Now, mind helping?"
"...Fine, chill out..." muttered Catherine as she began combing through a cabinet. Alexis was near a window, peering out at the foggy streets and buildings.
"...We... need to hurry," he said, tugging at his coat collar. Melissa shook her head, glancing at him.
"We just got here, Alexis, and this will take some time; we're going as fast as we can." He looked to Catherine, who was lazily throwing papers and files to the floor. She tried to have them land on the desk, but, exterting no effort, they missed their target by quite a margin.
"Stop that!" hissed Melissa, growing frustrated by it. Catherine sighed, kicking at the drawer. "It's going to take forever to look through everything, Mel, it's hopeless!"
"Just stop complaining!"
"Don't tell me what to do!"
Alexis shook his head sadly and turned back to the window. He gasped as a muscular, bloody hand shot through the wall and curled around his throat. The two women jumped back, each letting out a startled scream. The pyramid Head stalked into the room, throwing Alexis down onto the desk. The wall gave way as a spear became apparent in its hands. A hearty chuckle came from beside it. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? Three little mice prowling around, I see..." Lucas smirked devilishly.
"No doubt you are the people Linda contacted regarding the Crimson Paragraph," he said, eyeing each of them boredly. Melissa scowled at him while she helped Alexis to his feet.
"Are you an associate of hers?" she questioned, receiving a short laugh in response.
"Indeed. However, I do not share her perspective. In fact, I'd rather not have your help at all, and look at you, scouring around a shabby old shack. And for what? Some clues? Hardly. You'll find nothing of the sort here."
"Told you!" exclaimed Catherine angrily at Melissa who motioned for her to quiet down.
"What do you want with us? What about that demon?"
"The demon is under my control, hence my title as the "Controller", in the crimson Paragraph," he explained, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket. "It failed me before, but my previous prey was, should I say, a bit more nimble."
"Prey...?" asked Melissa, and Lucas smiled.
"Of course." He turned to the demon. "Slave!" he yelled, "As you are a manifestation of Silent Hill's power, you are under my control! Therefore, I command you to destroy them!" The pyramid head gave a resistant grunt and raised the spear, aiming it at Melissa.
"Well then, I must bid goodbye, my friends. May you die a quick death." With another, confident laugh, Lucas disappeared, and the demon hurled its weapon at the raven-haired woman.
"Melissa!" shouted Alexis as he shoved her out of the way. At that moment the spear shot through him, sailing toward and embedding itself into the wall. He cried out, pinned there like a helpless doll. The pyramid head grasped him by the arm and flung him off, yanking the spear out as well.
"No, Alexis!" screamed Melissa, her gaze falling on Catherine, who was staring at her with watery eyes.
"Mel-,"
Too late. She was struck down by the spear. Melissa could do nothing but cover her mouth in shock, and back away up to the wall. She winced, looking down to see a cut across her hand; blood dripped down it. Looking back up, she threw herself to the side as the spear crashed through the corresponding wall, cabinets and papers flying every which way.
She turned onto her back from her place on the wooden floor, the demon already holding its weapon above her, ready to plunge it downward. She screamed, throwing her arms up in defense, several droplets of blood soaring through the air toward the pyramid head. It moved away suddenly, as if afraid. It made an inhuman sound, dropped the spear, and dissipated into thin air.
Melissa remained like that for a few minutes, on the verge of tears. Something crawled its way toward her. "...Mel... lissa..." Alexis croaked, grabbing her arm weakly. She turned to him, able only to mumble something incomprehensible.
"Alexis..." Hope ignited within her, and she clapsed his shoulders. "Alexis, be still! I'll get help, you'll-,"
"...No..." he muttered, blood seeping down his chin from his mouth. "I just... wanted to apologize... for earlier... I... doubt Catherine... is still alive... and... it's all so..." He coughed crimson. Her expression was grim, but he kept his head bowed. "...You... have to get out of here, that is all... You... can't have... our sacrifices... mean nothing... Just... Just believe... in yourself..."
He went silent and became still. He was in her arms, and Melissa realized that he was dead. Just like that. Both of them, in a matter of seconds, had been killed. She couldn't cry; the only thing that left her mouth was a distorted sob, and she cursed. 'It left me alive... Why? Why did it leave me alive when they were all gone!' Her mind spun with questions, but she felt the cold revolver in her coat.
"You two didn't deserve this... None of you did...I was the oldest, it was my responsibilty to make sure you were all okay. And now, you're gone. Whoever he was... I'll make him pay for this, I swear! He had no consideration for your lives, and, in turn, I will have none for his!"
Nodding to herself she rose, gun clutched tightly to one side. The wind chilled her face, and she left the room through the giant passage the demon had left in the wall.
---
"Abraham, wake up."
His eyelids fluttered open. His sunglasses had been put off to the side. There were no artificial lights in the wide, old room; the only source of light was from two windows on the walls. The room was empty, built from aged lumber. He could smell and see the mold in the far corners of the room. Lucas stared down at him, his arms folded.
"Feeling alright?" he asked plainly. Abraham stood and dusted his clothing off, his eyes never leaving Lucas. The older man turned round and stepped a few feet, stroking his chin the whole way. Abraham glanced to his side. He saw the boy there, Christian, propped up against the wall. They met each other's gaze.
"You were right, Abraham," said Lucas. "I did do something in the three days the boy was in our hands. He was a baby, totally helpless."
"...I see," replied Abraham dryly, "but what was it that you did?" He looked back to Christian, who was listening intently despite having his head drooped.
"He doesn't know any more than you do, I can assure you that. If you're wondering, by the way, we're in an empty storehouse in Silent Hill. It's only one building, though, nothing fancy."
"That's fine. And the only exit is behind you. How did we get here?"
"I harnessed the power I have at my disposal now. I owe it all to you, of course, but that can come later. You wish to know what I did? Well, it's quite simple. Over the years of our education, Abraham, I began to realize a crucial flaw in our existence as beings. Yes, we may be the dominant species on this planet, but we are so inferior when you think about it. We have no power whatsoever. We are at the mercy of the endless void that is the universe. We can do nothing to change our fate, for our fate, or our destiny, is predetermined.
"Once I knew this, I could not bring myself to accept it. To think that we are given free will and reason, yet we have no control over our lives! It's preposterous! You must agree with me on that, Abraham." He paused, cleared his throat. "I started thinking about how I could somehow bypass this. I wanted to gain control over my life, and not allow some alien force to condemn me to a fate I do not deserve! I pored over Langer's numerous volumes and books, searching for something that would assist me. That is when I read about the gods that Langer so often preached. At the time, being only eleven, the process seemed unbelievable. To summon a god and imbue yourself with it. Insane, don't you think?
"But it was so tempting, so I researched it more. To merge with the soul of a god--the soul, is, in essence, the god itself--one must have a soul powerful enough to withstand the almight force of such power. It was the only way to keep control over yourself and the spirit. So, I began short, secret meditations each day. I had to strengthen my soul, become capable. Yet I still had to endure Langer's prolonged ramblings."
Abraham nodded. "It's a brilliant plan, albeit an extremely risky one. I take it you succeeded, then?"
"Indeed." Lucas grinned smugly. "For two years I waited, growing stronger and stronger, until at last my time came. The boy supposedly held the supreme god's soul, didn't he? It was my opportunity, for, to ascend to the highest level, one cannot settle for second best."
"So, your plan was to welcome some... spirit into your body? Without even being certain of its existence?"
"Yes, if you want to put it as bluntly as that. But I had to tread carefully; becoming one with such a spirit of high regard requires that you be powerful enough to sustain it. So, I summoned the Red God, Valtiel."
"You're kidding," said Abraham skeptically.
"No, it really does exist. In fact, it's most likely listening to our conversation this very moment. In any case, I imbued myself with Valtiel's essence, and stumbled into uncharted territory. Fortunately enough, I managed to restrict it to a point where I had some level of control over it. However, my mission was not finished yet. In a complex process I separated a small part of Valtiel's soul and traded it for a small part of the god's soul, which was much easier to control."
"What was the point of that, though?" questioned Abraham. "I see no sense in it."
Lucas sighed. "Because, Abraham, being the Carrier of God's soul, the boy, Christian, has no soul of his own. He is but a mere shell, "borrowing" the other spirit to exist." Christian was now standing, a perplexed look on his face.
"That sounds like something that man, Jeremy, said..." he blurted. "Who... Who am I?" He looked at Lucas desperately, but the man only ran a hand through his hair.
"Well, finally decided to speak I see. It's quite simple. You, Christian, are the human incarnation of the god The Order worshipped. After Cheryl Mason killed your previous, monstrous, imperfect form, you were what was left: the "messiah" to The Order. The Crimson Paragraph foretold your birth, but you were only a cheap tool to be used. See, Abraham-another fine example of my point."
"...And the Crimson Paragraph... what is that? Is it a ritual?"
"Somewhat. It is a prophecy, giving vague clues as to how to act out the ritual. I have no intention of completing the ritual, however."
"No," said Abraham, "because your plan would render it useless."
Lucas smiled slyly. "Exactly." He held up his right arm and rolled the sleeve up, revealing a pentacle of sorts etched into his forearm. "You see this? It is the mark of Valtiel, the mark The Order. 'The Halo of the Sun'." He spotted Christian glancing down at his own arm, and said, "Yes, it is because you have Valtiel within you that the mark has appeared."
The boy hung his head low. "So this voice inside my head... That's your Valtiel?"
"Correct. It awakened instead of God, which was what I'd planned. Now I can freely control the powers it grants me. For sixteen years I have waited, and now I have my chance!"
He made to move towards Christian, but Abraham got between them. "I... can't let you go through with this, Luke. It's bad enough that you would do that to yourself, but to do it to a child... It's immoral."
"Morals?" scoffed Lucas. "Hardly. No one follows their morals or beliefs anymore, Abraham; they are spurred on only by the promise of power! So..." With a sharp jerk of his hand Abraham was flung to the wall harshly. He landed in a crumpled form at its base.
Lucas paid him no heed, as he reached into his jacket and brought out a small, glass vial containing a red liquid. Uncorking it, he chuckled maniacally before swallowing it all in one gulp. He then threw it to the floor, the glass shattering everywhere.
"Now, Christian, time for me to take Valtiel fully into myself!" He took the blond's right forearm roughly, pinning it against a piece of rubble nearby. Christian hissed, a great heat burning there. Lucas's grin became wider, as he moved back, his pupils crimson.
"Perfect! I am ready now for my true performance! It has worked! Now-,"
A gunshot. A bullet flew through his torso, but he did not stagger. His face twisted into grim anger, and he turned to see Melissa Blackheart standing at the entrance, her revolver held tightly in her hands. She was shaking, her eyes sticky with dried tears.
Lucas frowned. "What a terrible annoyance you are! How you survived the demon's attack, I do not know, nor do I care, but he failed nonetheless! And here you are, interrupting me right when I'm about to achieve my greatest goal! I must end you quickly."
"You killed them for no reason!" she cried, pulling the trigger two more times. He was caught by both, but it did not stop him as he walked slowly over to her.
"Surprised?" he asked with wicked glee. "Your pathetic weapons can no longer affect me!" Nevertheless, she shot him as much as she could, leaving a single bullet remaining. He did nothing to stop her, but the effects were apparent. He was now covered in blood, slightly weakened. However, he chuckled. "Done? Good."
With another motion of his hand the revolver was ripped from her grip and subjected to the floor. He laughed, using his powers to dislodge a long, sharp piece of wood from the ceiling. "N-No!" Christian yelled, but Lucas halted none. Without even touching it, he hurled the thing at her like a javelin, and the results were similar. It occured all very fast, and she had no time to move as the crude weapon impaled her. Half a scream left her throat as he removed the piece of wood with a swish of the hand. She collapsed, and he laughed.
But not for long.
"Lucas!" He turned. Abraham was there, Melissa's revolver in his hand. He fired, the bullet blasting through Lucas's forehead, killing him instantly. Christian watched in disgust. Abraham just stared, breathing frantically. He shook his head and dropped the gun, racing over to Melissa's side. Christian did the same.
"...Oh God..." Abraham muttered, looking her over. She was losing blood at quite a pace. "We need to somehow cover this wound," he said gravely. "But-,"
"...No."
"What?"
She shook her head as best she could. "It's... better this way, I... assure you..." She glanced at Christian, who was staring at her with wide eyes.
"I remember you," he stated. "From that church..."
"...Yes, so do I... I'm... just glad you're still alive... It was the least I could do... for Grandfather... and... Noah..." Her eyes glazed over, her small smile disappearing without a trace. Abraham blinked, squinting. Sighing, he closed her eyes, allowing her to lie upon the cold floor.
Christian controlled a frightened sob. Something rose behind him. "...What a spectacle," said Lucas casually. "I will never truly understand you mortals and your troublesome emotions."
Both Abraham and Christian spun around, taken aback. There was Lucas, a bloody hole in the center of his head. His pupils were entirely red, and Abraham shuddered, recalling that day...
"Luke...?" he asked softly.
"...Oh no, the Controller is quite dead. But I, inferiors, still have a duty to fulfill, and I will fulfill it, either incorrectly or correctly."