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A Story in 4 Installments:
Lost Souls: Prophesy
Installment 2by David Brookes
Copyright 2001 All rights reserved
davidbrookesuk@yahoo.co.uk
I am infinite, immortal, all-seeing. I have powers beyond any imagination; power that far surpasses that of the Heavenly Ruler. I wander the plains of the desert that is the Netherworld, the cross-over between Heaven and Earth, where you see both sides - the living, carrying on with their lives, oblivious that there are also other entities walking among them, that are not visible to their eyes, not receptive to their ears . . .
I am the stalker, and I am infinite . . .
* * *
The Ruler of Heaven looked at the angel curiously as it materialised before him. "You have found the lost soul?" he asked, his voice booming, easily heard above the background noise of Heaven.
"Yes, my lord, he is found. He waits for me in the Netherworld."
"You did not bring him before me?"
The angel shuffled uncomfortably. His blue skin shone bright here in the Holy light of Heaven, and he looked up into the face of his lord. "He was unable to transport, my lord. I am afraid there maybe something lacking in my powers . . ."
"Your powers are of maximum strength and efficiency," the being boomed. "There is nothing at all wrong with them. It is him, Mikhyl Rhuzovich, that aborts your transportation to me."
"Then what is to be done? He cannot wander the Netherworld for eternity . . . If he does not change plains he will gradually deteriorate out of existence - It is an unpleasant afterlife for any being."
"You must stay with him, my angel. Teach him the ways of the lord and he shall carry out my will there in the Netherworld. You have told him the damnable fate of the Devil and his plain?"
"The human knows that the Devil has been perished for centuries, yes," said the angel. "He knows, and I shall teach him that which he does not know. He shall learn the way of his existence."
The angel paused there and waited, hesitating to ask his next question. "Is he the one?"
The being nodded, and it was decided.
* * *
Mikhyl Rhuzovich waited patiently.
The cold winds no longer froze his skin, the sun no longer warming his face as it bore down on him. The light now seemed dull - something he never thought would do after his death. Everything should be bright, he thought. Not this blanket of faded blue that covers everything, blinding the flare from the sun and softening the glare from the fresh snow.
The angel had been gone a long time, he thought. Surely if the blue-skinned being had moved onto the Heavenly plane, time should stand still while he did so? Should he not appear once more the second after he faded before his eyes? It had been nigh on ten minutes.
Rhuzovich felt as if he was getting cold. He wasnÕt. He couldnÕt.
Time was passing around him. The wreck of the crash, the car crushed like a tin can that held his Earthly body. It was bloodied and cold.
There were bodies around the car, wounded and burnt by the explosion just ten minutes before. He had so badly wanted to help . . . He couldnÕt. His voice no longer carried the river of wind like it had done - they could not hear his warnings. Luckily the fire cloud had not been searing: their flesh seemed to have survived.
He saw the winged figure return before him, fading back into existence in the Netherworld plane. His face was like rock, as it had been since they had met. He showed no emotion.
"I have returned with news, Rhuzovich," he said.
"Good news?"
"That is debatable, friend." A pause. "There is a problem."
This time the pause was longer. "A . . . Problem?"
"With your transportation to the Heavenly plane. I am sorry to tell you that it isnÕt possible. For the time being at least, you will have to remain in the Netherworld."
"What?! You said . . . You said that if I remain here to long IÕll disappear, fade away. Will that happen . . ?"
"We are uncertain. Things have changed, something is drastically wrong." He waited until the silence was unbearable for Mikhyl. "I believe you have read the Bible."
"Only as part of an English course . . ."
"Most you have heard is either exaggerated or out-dated, Rhuzovich. There are other stories, legends, which you will not have heard of. Like this plane you exist on now - The Netherworld."
". . . Yes . . ." He was worried; this was getting worse the longer it happened. Why couldnÕt you just be dead after you die?! "Please tell me, angel."
"There is a being that stalks this realm. It devours the lost souls and consumes their power. He grows stronger with each soul, and now he grows. He is the new Devil: he rivals the Almighty Himself. This is an urgent problem, Rhuzovich."
"But what am I do to?"
"There are stories," the angel continued. "A prophecy of the end, the truly final battle between good and evil. This prophecy was said by the Maker himself. There is a saviour . . . Someone to scourge the new evil that threatens the Heavens."
"What is this evil you speak of?"
"It has no name, no physical form. It is a ghost, a phantom, a spectre, it drifts this plain devouring the lost souls and feeding its power. The prophecy tells of a Messiah, a single lost soul that would be taken from his life to save the Netherworld and the lost souls, closing the Netherworld forever. After that there would just by Heaven in the afterlife, not this feeble existence."
"ItÕs me, isnÕt it?"
The angel had to laugh at the bathos of the question. "So we believe. But you have no choice I am afraid you have no choice, if you are the Messiah. Are you willing to accept this fate, Rhuzovich? You would hunt this beast and slay it to save other souls like yourself?"
Mikhyl thought for a second. A thought hit him suddenly. "But did you not say I would fade away if it were to remain in this world?"
"That is true. But you will still be alive, for loss of a better word . . . But as I said before, human, it would be a terrible existence for you; other souls could not hear or see you when it got bad. You would eventually disappear . . ."
"But . . . But . . . How would I defeat this beast if I do not physically exist?"
"You will," said the angel. "But no-one would know you were there except for your touch. You understand it would take a long time for your disintegration to complete . . . But we do not know whether or not you would be . . . Salvageable."
"I understand," Mikhyl said. There was a long silence as he stood in the snow. Finally he sighed. "This prophecy - is it set?" The angel nodded. "So if I am this Messiah, it is out of my control?"
"That is true."
A long sigh escaped his lips. "Then I accept."
The angel nodded, and smiled. He raised his arms and drifted back into the Heavenly plane, whispering, "I will return, Rhuzovich."
Mikhyl nodded himself and smiled.
* * *
I am hungry. With my unparalleled senses I pick up my next meal through smell and trace the scent. This soul is very near, I can almost hear its dead heart beat.
I have not fed in weeks. The lost souls are rare, but when they are found and tasted it makes the wait worth it. These souls are the tastiest, the lost ones. Trapped between planes and waiting.
Waiting for their God to save them.
I laugh as I trace the scent. It is getting strong now, and soon I can see it through my many eyes. It is just standing, waiting. For a second I think I see another figure, a blue-skinned being with feathery wings and silver armour. Was that an angel? Is has this soul been saved?
I start to think I should stay away. If this soul is friends with an angel then maybe I should carry on searching for a weaker soul.
* * *
Mikhyl stood and kicked at the dirt, waiting for the angel to return. Looking around at the wreck he watched minute by minute as the men and women got back into their vehicles and left, then as his wrecked car was hauled away by a tow-truck. He knew he would never see that car again.
Something moved in the corner of his eye and he whirled around, afraid. Whatever it was, it was in the Netherworld.
Where the thing had once been was now just air. It had vanished.
Mikhyl wondered what he had seen. He had the sense that whatever had been stalking him had vanished. A sixth sense? Was this one of the tricks of being the new Messiah?
Again Mikhyl Rhuzovich sat in the pale snow and waited for the angel to return.