Philip Simpson - Tribulation

“I am the Prophet, yes. Appointed by your own brother as reward for my earlier service. My powers too, have grown with my new status. Enough to fool those idiots in Europe in any case. The rumors are that I can perform miracles — some might call it magic. Watch this!” He gestured with one hand, a circular motion. Suddenly, his drinks glass — half empty — was suddenly full again. Joshua laughed gleefully. “Believe me, that’s the least of what I can do.”

“Very impressive,” sneered Sam. “Still doesn’t tell me why you brought me here.”

Joshua inclined his head. “I want you to do something for me. Something you probably wouldn’t have done in any case. I’m just giving you a little more incentive.”

“What?” demanded Sam impatiently. Joshua seemed to have developed some dramatic notions. Would he ever just get to the point?

“Kill your brother, of course. Properly this time. And then disappear and stay out of my way. That’s the crucial bit — I don’t want you hanging around, interfering and basically making a nuisance of yourself. You’ll find him in the Chrysler building, around the 32nd floor. There’s a platform with eagles instead of gargoyles — I’m surprised he hasn’t changed them. The room he uses as an office is adjacent to that and an airborne assault is the only one that will work. The base of the building is surrounded by hundreds of Horned demons. In exchange, I’ll free your mother from Hell.”

It made sense. With the Antichrist out of the way, Joshua would be free to rule unchallenged. Satan might even give his blessing, probably relishing every moment when his minions turned on each other.

“You realize this won’t change anything though?” said Sam. “Even if I kill my brother and you take his place as the Antichrist, your fate has already been sealed. It has for millenniums. As soon as Christ returns, you and my brother will be banished to the eternal lake of fire. Forever.”

“As will you,” Joshua retorted.

Sam rocked back on his heels. “Where did you hear that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Fates can be changed. We don’t have to resign ourselves to whatever is written in that book. We — you included — can write our own fates. Decide our own futures. Do you really think I’m going to allow anyone to put me in an eternal lake of fire forever? Are you really that stupid?”

Sam was starting to feel distinctly uneasy. What Joshua was saying seemed to echo the sentiments of his father. What were they up to? Sam realized that once again, he was being manipulated. If Joshua and his father wanted him to kill the Antichrist that meant he should do the opposite. To foil their plans, he needed to ensure that his brother lived. It was a quandary. His heart told him his brother had to die but his head was saying otherwise. He was starting to get confused, to lose the purity of his purpose. So many factors were at work here. Who was he meant to believe? Not only that, why was he bothering at all? The future was already written. In the Bible. Why not leave all these plotters and schemers to their fates while he concentrated on protecting the innocent?

But something was troubling him deeply. A niggling thought was asking him whether the future was indeed already written. Could it be changed? Was the Bible right in all respects? If you knew your scripture then why would you calmly accept your fate when you could put measures in place to potentially circumvent it? Joshua knew the Bible very well indeed — how could he not? He had, after all, been brought up by a priest. Perhaps they knew something he didn’t. If so, that meant that Sam’s own fate was not written in stone either. The flip side of that was that he wasn’t necessarily destined to join the others in the eternal lake of fire, so Samyaza’s plan to create an alternate world — a safe haven — could work. Just thinking that made Sam feel more positive than he felt in a long time.

These invasion forces had two leaders: the Antichrist, his brother; and Joshua, the False Prophet. Even if the future couldn’t be changed — and that was a big if for Sam now — if Sam killed both of them, then this invasion fleet wouldn’t have any leadership. Without it, the army would probably fall apart. Surely, that would make life easier for any surviving humans in the U. S? And wasn’t that the most important reason? To protect the innocent regardless of whether their fates were written or not…

Suddenly, Sam was resolved. He’d kill both of them — his former best friend and his brother. Not the cheeriest thought in the world, but there it was. For the greater good to prevail, he would have to do it.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” said Sam, meaning every word. What did he have to lose? He came here to confront his brother again in any case. Joshua was just adding some icing onto the cake. “Now where’s my mother?”

Joshua wore an expression that Sam struggled to interpret. He clicked his fingers and a woman materialized next to him — a woman that Sam couldn’t help but recognize.

He’d never known her himself, of course, but he’d seen her in his dreams. He’d also seen pictures of her, pictures from her time in Japan with Hikari. Hikari had told him she had been killed by demon worshippers. Perhaps she had or perhaps Hikari had been misinformed. It didn’t matter — he knew that Hikari would never have lied to him. Other scenarios had occurred to him over the years. If she had been killed and gone to Hell, she could never return. If, however, she had been taken to Hell alive, there was still a chance. The fact that she was standing in front of him swept away all other considerations. She must be still alive. Her presence belied all other explanations. That was all that mattered.

He drank in the sight of her, no longer the terrible emaciated creature he’d seen in his dreams. She didn’t appear to have changed since those photos he’d seen. Long dark hair, achingly similar to Aimi’s, skin the color of marble, matching his own complexion. Her face was unlined but her eyes were sad. She smiled at him and he thought his heart would explode with happiness.

“My son,” she said, holding out her arms to him.

Sam was about to leap the desk in front of him, gather his mother to him and crush her in an embrace so tight that she’d never be able to leave him again. Joshua forestalled him, blocking his mother with one arm across her chest whilst simultaneously holding up one warning finger to Sam.

“Not yet,” he said. “Not until you’ve completed your side of the bargain.”

“At least let me talk to her,” pleaded Sam.

Joshua shrugged. “So talk.”

Taking her cue, his mother spoke first. “I’ve missed you so much, Sam,” she said. “There isn’t a day that I don’t think about you.”

“Are you okay… Mom?” he asked. It sounded stupid in his own ears, but what were you meant to say to a mother you’d never seen before? He’d played this reunion over and over in his head but it wasn’t actually going to plan. Somehow the words he really wanted to say just wouldn’t emerge from his lips. Words like ‘I love you’.

His mother smiled again but this time Sam could see that it was forced for his benefit. How could she possibly be okay in Hell? “As well as can be expected. I can’t lie to you, my son — it’s been difficult.”

Sam nodded. Of course it had been. “I’m sorry, Mom. Sorry that you were taken there. Sorry for everything that happened to you. You don’t deserve this.”

“I know,” his mother agreed. “But that doesn’t matter now. You have to focus. You need to kill your brother, son. Kill him and then I will be freed and we can be together once again.”

“Right, enough of that,” said Joshua. He snapped his fingers again and Sam’s mother disappeared. Her absence immediately left a void in Sam’s heart.