Philip Simpson - Tribulation

“But the real key point of the pact involves the identity of the Anti-Christ. As you know, both you and your brother had the potential to take the place at your father’s side. You were the rightful heir, having defeated your brother so therefore, you are, for all intents and purposes, the Anti-Christ.”

Sam opened his mouth to protest but the Grigori held up one hand. “Yes. I am well aware you declined, thereby infuriating your father for all time but that is as may be. Heaven and Hell are all about the wording, especially when it comes to contracts or pacts. Often they adhere to the letter rather than the spirit of the law. And the wording here is clear. The Antichrist. That could be interpreted as your brother… or you.”

Sam digested this, feeling the cold anger grow again inside him. Gabriel was playing a dangerous game. This was the second time she had betrayed him. Once, he could forgive, but twice? He said nothing though, for fear that his anger would betray him, much like her.

“So the Antichrist will be sent to the eternal lake of fire when Christ returns,” continued Samyaza. “That’s plural. Antichrists.”

Sam marveled at Gabriel’s double-dealing, but he had to admire the plan. Like most great plans, it was simplicity itself. Sam was always going to be a thorn in Heaven’s side after the return of Christ. What were they meant to do with him? He wasn’t welcome in Heaven and he simply could not be allowed to remain on the Earth when Jesus created his thousand year kingdom of paradise. It would just be embarrassing having a half-demon around. And they couldn’t just send him to Hell. He’d shown he was easily capable of transporting himself out of there. So there was only one place left: the eternal lake of fire at the bottom of the deepest pit in Hell. Only one place was worse — the bottomless pit where his father would be confined for a thousand years, and they couldn’t send him there. That was reserved for Daddy only.

Sam was at a loss. The betrayal was complete. What had he done to deserve this treatment? He’d lost everyone he cared for in the Rapture. Not only that, but he’d done everything Gabriel had asked of him, battling the Antichrist and demons, thwarting his father and rescuing what innocents he could. Why wasn’t that enough? Why would she punish him after that?

“So, what does my father get out of this? Why would he want both sons in the lake?”

“I believe Gabriel offered him certain… concessions, in exchange for his agreement. I don’t know what they were, but the inducement must have been considerable.”

“This doesn’t change anything,” said Sam, the words sounding more noble than they had to right to do. “It doesn’t change who I am. I’m not suddenly going to stop doing what I’m doing. Just because Heaven doesn’t keep its word, doesn’t mean I don’t have to.” He spat the words out like ashes. He meant it, too. Damn Hell and his father and damn Gabriel and Heaven too. He’d do what he did best, what he always did — take care of himself.

“It doesn’t have to be like this though,” said Samyaza.

Something in the Watcher’s tone brought Sam up sharply. “Go on,” he said. “I’m listening.”

“You are the son of Satan. As such, you have great power — power that largely remains untapped at present. With my help, that can change.”

“So I can do what exactly?” asked Sam.

“With the help of my brethren, you and I can make our own plane of existence, a plane that is neither Heaven nor Hell nor Earth; a place in between, where we will be safe, always welcome. A place to call home. Think about it. I am like you. When Christ returns, there will be no place for me. I am not welcome in Heaven or Hell although I am able to travel to both parts freely. I make my home here, on Earth but shortly that will no longer be an option. Join with me. Together we can make this a reality.”

Sam thought about it. He had to admit it was tempting. Finally he had an alternative to spending eternity in Hell. But surely there would be repercussions? Would Heaven and Hell just allow this to happen? There had to be a catch — there always was with Samyaza. The Watcher had his own agenda. “What about Aimi?’ he asked.

Samyaza smiled again. “I knew you would ask and I have an offer to sweeten the deal. I have just explained that I can travel to Heaven. What do you think should happen?”

Sam had known the Watcher could travel where he liked, it was just that the mere thought of it was too ridiculous to contemplate. Him travel to Heaven? Impossible!

“You can transport us both?” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound too eager. So far, he’d been rather proud of how he’d controlled his emotions.

“Most certainly.”

“And get Aimi out too?”

Samyaza nodded mutely. “We will discuss the details later. Right now, you have other pressing matters to attend to. Time is up once again, I’m afraid.” The Watcher was looking over his shoulder again. Sam guessed that the Devil’s Hand were closing in. Even engrossed in the conversation, Sam was ever conscious of their movements, knowing that ever minute he delayed, they got that much closer.

The Watcher took flight. He hovered above Sam for a moment as if he’d forgotten something.

“You know, you never told me how you got out of Hell,” said Sam, yelling in order to be heard above the flapping of Samyaza’s great wings. Years earlier, during the battle between Sam and in brother in Hell, Satan had banished Samyaza to a deep pit in his Kingdom for interfering. The Watcher had never mentioned it and Sam had never thought to ask. He did now though.

“Perhaps another time.” The Grigori winked at him. “Now is the time to run.”

Sam turned. Approaching down the highway in the darkness were five figures. They were spread out, equidistant from each other in a rough line, still several hundred feet away but closing rapidly thanks to their long, loping gait.

Sam would face them. Eventually. But now was not that time. He had things to do, plans to make.

He turned east and sprinted off. The true test of his endurance was about to begin.

H e ran through the night, his heart feeling lighter than it had for a long time — perhaps ever — despite being hotly pursued by the Devil’s Hand. Samyaza’s offer was indeed intriguing. The thought of having a safe place to spend eternity, perhaps where Aimi and he could spend it together, was almost impossible to resist. It was certainly an appealing proposition, especially in light of Gabriel’s betrayal.

But the Watcher was cunning. He had given him the news of Gabriel’s and Satan’s pact at that exact moment for a reason: to confuse Sam, make him more susceptible to other offers. Despite knowing this, it didn’t affect the allure. Sam wanted to believe, wanted to believe that what Samyaza offered was honest and true. Time would tell.

Right now, he had to focus his mind. The Devil’s Hand, while not exactly closing on him, were certainly not falling back, keeping pace even as he accelerated. Unlike him though, they had probably not already been running for many hours, arriving refreshed a few hours ago from Hell. Idly, he wondered if they trained like him. Had they spent their youth running for mile after mile like he had? Probably not. Hell no doubt had its own less subtle ways of training its warriors.

He probably would have out-distanced them more easily but he ran into a few problems. First, an earthquake had caused part of the road to collapse completely, leaving a gaping hole in the earth that appeared to go on forever — so deep, in fact, that Sam kept expecting to see Hell somewhere in its depths. It was also rather wide. He was forced to make a wide detour around it. Behind him, the Devil’s Hand closed the distance between them.