Sarwat Chadda: Devil’s Kiss

She wanted to run. Her hand was frozen to the door-knob. Legs trembling, unable to respond. It took a few seconds to force her mouth to open and a huge effort to speak.

‘No.’ It was all she could manage.

Her eyes focused on the mezuzah in the wall.

Could it stop him? Elaine’s dwelling was guarded by dozens of wards, the mezuzah one of the most powerful. Maybe -

Michael smashed the box with his fist. He pulled out the small, delicate scroll and held it between forefinger and thumb. The paper spontaneously combusted. It was ash within seconds.

Like all Billi’s hopes.

‘You couldn’t stop me at the reliquary. What makes you think this -’ Michael shook the ashes away – ‘would stop me now?’ He stepped into the corridor.

She backed away slowly. A trickle of icy sweat rolled down her back, and every inch of her skin shivered with Michael’s oncoming steps.

‘Who is it?’ Elaine shouted from upstairs.

Run. She had to run. They all had to run. Run! She couldn’t get the shout out. Her throat was dry, tight.

She backed up the stairs, towards the open door. She didn’t dare take her eyes off him as he came in, matching her, step by step. But when she came through the apartment door she shot a look over her shoulder. Her terror-filled eyes were all the warning necessary. She turned and ran, stopping between her dad and Kay.

Michael paused by the entrance. He surveyed the room.

‘Hugues de Payens would surely be disappointed to see the Knights Templar sunk so low.’

‘Sometimes we enter the filth to find our enemies,’ said Arthur. He held a carving knife; Billi didn’t think it would do much good. Kay stared at Michael, his face pasty and sickly. He looked ready to collapse, leaning heavily on the table. Elaine had her hand on the biscuit tin. Michael moved into the centre of the lounge, savouring his victory. Billi had no doubt he’d kill all four of them with little effort.

‘It’s best this way, firstborn. Give me the Mirror and I’ll finish you fast and painlessly.’ His eyes didn’t leave the tin. ‘The plague’s not pleasant. Not pleasant at all.’ His eyes shone with anticipation. ‘At dawn, with the crowing of the cock, all those infected by it will die and I will watch the world reborn. From up on high.’

‘You can take your offer and shove it where the sun don’t shine,’ Billi snapped. Her dad slipped his hand into hers. Michael saw it and laughed.

‘How sweet, Arthur. I didn’t think you were that sort of man.’

He wasn’t. Billi felt him squeeze with his first two fingers. Once, twice, three times. A charge. She would break left, distract Michael and he wanted to charge him. With a bread-knife. Suicide didn’t even begin to describe it.

‘No,’ she said. Her dad tensed, but didn’t move. Billi stepped forward. ‘Look, Michael. You know it’s wrong. You can’t bring people back to God like this. This isn’t what it’s all about.’

He laughed. ‘Ah, is this the appeal to my better side? To my humanity?’ He pushed himself off the wall. Heat and light radiated from his body. Waves of hot air trembled between them. ‘You forget, mortal, I have no humanity.’

Kay lowered his head, groaning. The plates and cups on the table shook and jumped about, spilling tea over the yellowing tablecloth. Billi, still holding her dad’s hand, stepped away. Then Kay screamed.

The dining table catapulted across the room smashing Michael against the wall. Plaster tumbled off the ceiling as the wood exploded, sending jagged splinters across the room. Billi caught a few across the face before diving behind the sofa. A moment later that too flew into the air and crashed into Michael.

‘Run!’ shouted Kay. He stood in the centre of the room as chairs, plates, knives, spoons and practically everything that wasn’t nailed down flew like leaves in a hurricane around him. Even the floorboards creaked and groaned; their nails rattled and shook as they dragged themselves out of the floor, summoned by his will.

Michael rose, brushing off the dust then turned to face Kay. Heat erupted around him and Billi gasped as though she’d been pushed against an open furnace. Flames flickered along the wallpaper and the edges of the flapping curtains.

Kay glanced at the kitchenette. The drawers flew out and a shower of steel knives, forks and skewers burst across the room into Michael. He stumbled as the blades tore into his body, sprinkling the walls with his blood. But he did not fall.

She wanted to help, but Arthur grabbed her arm and fled, ripping Billi off her feet and through the door, Elaine a second behind her, biscuit tin clutched to her chest. Their ears popped with an implosion of fire and wind. The floor rippled and the walls slid half a metre sideways. The entire building shook violently.

Billi covered her head as chunks of plaster tumbled down. The stairs lurched and cracked. The front door at the bottom was ahead, but the building seemed to be sucking them in. The ground tilted and she fell forward, only grabbed by her dad a moment before tumbling headlong down the flight of stairs. Broken chips of brickwork spat on her face, stinging her cheeks with minute cuts. She didn’t know which way was up. Elaine rolled into her, knocking heads. A deafening wind howled down the staircase as though they were downstream of a jet engine.

Get up!

She threw herself at the door, which was already half out of its frame, and it crashed open with a jolt. Half crawling, Arthur and Billi lifted Elaine from under the armpits and together they fled out on to the street.

Elaine’s apartment was a blinding white inferno. The roof was a frame of black skeletal ribs, and half the walls had fallen.

‘Kay!’ Billi shouted. She’d thought he’d be right behind them, but she couldn’t see him. He was still in the apartment! She turned, but her dad grabbed her.

‘It’s too late, Billi! It’s too late!’

‘No!’ She fought him, screaming and swinging her fists at him. She had to save Kay. Arthur ignored the blows and wrapped his arms round her. ‘It’s too late.’

He pulled her away from the blazing building. Half a dozen people, dressed in pyjamas, dressing gowns or hastily tossed-on coats, stood in the road staring at the flaming building. Some took photos.

The final explosion threw them all off their feet. The ground rippled underfoot, breaking the black tarmac into thousands of chunks. The air filled with a blaze of white fire and Billi couldn’t get up. All she could do was try to gaze into the awesome light.

He walked down the street, stepping over the bodies writhing in pain. His clothes smouldered and ribbons of smoke twisted off his body. The light dimmed and there he was: Michael. Blood caked his body from hundreds of cuts and there were still knives jutting from his body, like some hideous St Sebastian.

The biscuit tin lay a few metres away where it had rolled out of Elaine’s grasp. Billi tried to stand, but even the air seemed too heavy. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t stop him.

Michael picked up the tin and tore off the lid. The glow from within bathed his face.

‘At last.’ He ripped off the bubblewrap and lifted the Cursed Mirror above him. ‘At last!’ Golden light poured out, brighter than the sun and he bathed in it. First, they whispered. Then they sang. Then the Watchers trapped beyond screamed as they poured their energies into the Material Realm. The heat doubled, then trebled, multiplying second by second as the portal to Limbo opened. Billi covered her ears before her eardrums burst from the devastating noise of the countless choirs. The light was unbearable and she buried her head under her arms. The tarmac beneath her began to melt and steam.

A thunderclap ended it. The heat was so intense that the air just exploded. The final shockwave passed, and Billi realized she wasn’t dead. The sky rumbled and the first spitting drops of rain landed on her face. She raised her head cautiously.