Part 9: Who Are You, and Where Have You Been?
After reluctantly walking away from the door that Ed and his friend were locked behind, for the time being, we made our way up a few more floors. When Max began to slow his pace, angling his head from one side to the other as though he was listening for something, I had to believe we were close to Grant’s room. At the top of the next flight of stairs, he stopped in place, holding a finger up to silence Malphas as he attempted to speak.
The old man stroked his fingers across a door to his right, pacing steadily onwards, repeating the process with every other entryway he passed by. I continued to follow behind the two as they cut down a hallway, lined with more doors on either side. Being the guy in the back, as I had been some years before, I made sure to keep glancing behind me, just to be sure nothing else was stalking us.
In all honesty, I was quite surprised that we seemingly had the run of the place, as we continued our investigation. While I was feeling guilty for leaving both Ed and his friend behind, I still felt worse about Brandon. Though I wasn’t entirely convinced Ashley was the real deal, or that she was nothing more than a part of the illusion of the fantasy this place created for him, I couldn’t help but think it really was her.
Again, along with the fact that nothing seemed to be pursuing us as we casually walked the stairs and corridors; no more custodians, or any other such things, why had Ash allowed us to leave? She and Lilith had put so much effort into bringing us back to this damned building, but she was now so focused on her relationship that the rest of us could come and go as we pleased?
Nothing was adding up to me at the time, but I also knew how much the force behind this place loves to play with its food, so to speak. Perhaps these were no more than distractions, set in place to mess with me. Either way, I wasn’t about to let my guard down again, as I had back on that beach. Mind games or not, I would see this through to the end, if it would be possible to do so.
When the old man stopped in place with his palm pressed against an unmarked door, he glanced back at me, nodding his head.
”Y’all ready?” he asked, cupping his hand around the knob.
After Malphas and I returned a nod, he pulled the door open, allowing cold wind and flakes of snow to breathe out from whatever lay beyond it. With Max guiding the bath before us, we all walked through the opening, to find ourselves in what appeared to be a desolate and long forgotten town of some sort. As my feet crunched through the thick snow, I glanced back to see no trace of the doorway, only the vacant and snow-covered road. We didn’t speak as we continued on, passing broken down old shops and houses, some with boards covering their windows, while others had only shards of broken glass. It was almost mesmerizing to look upon, as we seemed to be making the only footprints this place had seen in possibly decades. Even if it was nothing more than another illusion or otherwise falsified reality the building conjured up, there was such a melancholy beauty to our surroundings.
As Max cut down a slender alleyway between some run-down shops, I had to believe he knew where he was going. Whether it was that sensation he had mentioned; that ability to feel out where Grant was located, or something else entirely, I couldn’t say, but if I didn’t know any better, I would almost think he knew his way around this decomposing town. If he was indeed who I suspected, of course, I would imagine there were a great many things about his abilities that were far beyond my understanding.
An old, run-down trailer park was just across the road when we cleared the long alleyway; something that caused the butterflies in my stomach to attempt some gymnastics. I couldn’t know what sort of condition whatever remained of my closest friend was in, but the idea of seeing him again almost made my head loopy. The fact that the frigid wind and snow were making my extremities quite numb by this point, could have very well been a factor in that as well.
While we strolled between and around the warped frames and buckled, crumbling walls of ancient mobile homes, Max was cocking his head from one side to the other again. He gently traced his fingertips across the abandoned residencies, which looked as though they could infect any regular person with varying degrees of tetanus. As strangely beautiful as the town from decades past looked, I wasn’t about to risk touching anything if I could help it, though I was certain he had nothing to worry about.
When Max finally stopped at the door of a trailer that was almost completely flattened on one end, with the walls similarly split in the center as the Titanic before its final descent into the freezing ocean, I felt my chest tighten with anticipation. Once more, he reached out, pulled the door open, and climbed up into the now less than mobile home, in one wide stride to avoid the three broken steps that led up to it.
I followed Malphus as he followed suit, feeling my jaw drop again when I looked at what this trailer held within. The thin and decaying snake that hung from the ceiling had been cut apart down its center, from the throat to the tip of its tail. Several lengths of what appeared to be fishing line were tied at about five-inch intervals, splaying open the body, with the innards drooping below.
I covered my mouth, shaking my head from side to side, in denial of seeing what I had presumed to be my friend, seemingly long since dead and decomposing. When the head of the snake moved ever so slightly, rising to meet the old man’s gaze, lazily blinking its eyes open, I almost fell to the floor due to my weakening legs turning to jello beneath me.
”Hello, Lucifer,” Max said, caressing the face of the poor creature with his hand.
”What did they do to him?” Malphas asked, looking as though he may well break down himself.
”Looks like the part of him this place held onto, reverted to the first form he took on this earth. Mighta been good old-fashioned instinct was all that was left.”
The old man nodded to Malphas, who held out his arms as Max pulled a pocket knife out to cut the lines holding the remains of Grant above the floor. As the snake dropped to the waiting arms, the old man ran his finger across its back, inspiring the guts to retreat back into the shell as it sealed itself shut. It still looked as though it had little life left in it, but it was at least one solid structure again.
As I moved in closer, the head lifted to look my way, before rubbing up against the hand I held out. Though it was heartbreaking to see my friend in such a withered state, I couldn’t help but smile at the possibility that he may recognize me after all.
”Let’s get him outta here,” Max said, as Malphus coiled the snake around his shoulders to safely carry him to freedom.
As we strolled back out of the downtrodden trailer park, through the slender alleyway, and towards the center of the beaten-down old town where we initially crossed through, Max stopped in place, turning around to face us.
”This should be as good a spot as any,” he said with a shrug.
”So, how do we do this?” Malphas asked, laying the snake down upon the cold ground, “You gotta just snap your fingers, send me back home and slide the big guy back into this body, or what?”
”Somethin’ like ‘at,” the old man said as he paced closer to the man keeping Grant’s seat warm, so to speak.
I looked at the two men, down to the serpent slowly coiling itself into a ball and back up again. While I couldn’t even begin to imagine what this process would entail, I was almost bubbling over with anticipation for seeing Grant back on his two feet again. The old man had warned me that he may not be himself at first, but I still held out hope.
What happened next took me a moment to fully process. As I said, such things are far beyond my pay grade, but I was not even remotely prepared for it.
Malphas shrieked out in a horrifying wail that damn near caused me to retch across the snow when Max thrust his hand into his chest. As light beamed out from his eyes, nose, and mouth, his howl reached an ear-piercing and agonizingly haunting level.
There was a crunching sound, followed by that vibrant glow flickering, and the gut-wrenching squeal reaching such a high pitch that I covered my ears in hopes of preventing them from spurting blood. When Max pulled his hand free, leaving a gaping, crimson hole in the chest of the man who dropped lifelessly to the snowy ground, the light now breached from between his tightly balled fingers, rather than the now catatonic face of the man who lay sprawled out on the ground.
The snake attempted to recoil as he snatched it up with his free hand, peeling its mouth open with his thumb and forcing the source of light down its throat. He still clutched the now writhing serpent as he crouched down beside the empty husk of fabricated human flesh before he began feeding it into the wide and grizzled hole he had made in it.
I watched on, trembling violently from head to toe as the snake slithered in the rest of the way before the body began to twitch and spasm. When the gnarled tear in the heaving chest sealed back shut, the seizures reached a new level, causing the body my friend used to wear to flop and flip like a fish out of water, slapping each limb against the surface of the ground beneath the thick snow.
Another howl breached from the mouth as I dropped to the snow, unable to prevent my legs from becoming gelatinous and lifeless beneath me. The Grant suit continued to jerk and whip this way and that, sending clouds of snow flying from one direction to the next. Before I knew it, I joined the chorus of horrified shrieks, still gripping my ears tightly, until the body finally fell still once more.
My ears continued to ring when everything fell silent again, with only the light howl of the wind and the snowflakes brushing against my face and shoulders making the slightest of sounds. Max just stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring down at where serpent and man became one, while my mind fought to wrap around what I just witnessed.
”M-Malphas…” I whispered through my trembling breath.
”Gone,” Max replied, not looking away from the body on the ground.
”Did…did you send him back?”
”He was the cost to be paid.”
”You…killed him!?”
I couldn’t believe it! Had he actually murdered the man who came along to help us? Yes, I didn’t care for him at first, nor did I like him parading around with Grant’s face, but after everything we had endured together, I had come to respect Malphas; perhaps even grown fond of him. Had he known what was truly in store for him, he would never have agreed to this.
”No. I didn’t kill him. He ain’t dead, kid, just gone. Ain’t nothin’ left, y’see?”
”How…how could you!?” I barked, getting back to my feet.
”Your buddy died, Michael,” the old man said, turning to face me, “he gave his life for this cause, and that,” he pointed to the still seemingly comatose body, “was all that was left!”
”But, Malphas…”
”Was a demon, kid. Just a damned filthy demon from the pits of Hell. Don’t you shed no tears for him. A price had to be paid; it’s that simple.”
”Who are you?” I asked, still fighting to process everything, “who are you really?”
As the smile began to reach across his lips, I was distracted once more as the body that Malphas had vacated only moments ago began to stir. A light moan echoed from his lips, as the fingers wrapped around the snow surrounding them.
”What…where…?” a weakened and strained, but familiar voice spoke.
”Grant!? I’m, here, brother…it’s ok…just take it easy.”
I crouched beside him to help lift him from the snow. He rubbed his face, perching upon the ground, sitting up somewhat straight, but hunched over and seemingly exhausted from this process.
”What?” he said, rubbing his face and squinting his eyes, “who is Grant…who are you?”
”It’s me, mate! It’s Michael! I’m here, man.”
”…Michael?” he said, turning to face me, still scrunching his eyes a little, rubbing them with his fingers and looking deeply into mine, “Michael! Brother? Is it really you!?”
He wrapped his arms around me as tears began to leak down my face. We held each other tightly as I helped him back to his feet. As I backed away, he still held onto my arm for support, clearly struggling to remain standing.
”I never expected to see you again, brother!” he said, beaming.
Though my chest was still somewhat burning from seeing the essence of Malphas being so brutally sacrificed before my eyes, I couldn’t deny that I was both thrilled to see Grant peering back at me once more, as well as him recognizing me. It would seem, unfortunately, that I would be sorely mistaken on one of those facts; something that sent my mind reeling yet again.
”If you’re here, Michael, does that mean…does that mean Father has forgiven me? After all of the centuries, has he finally…”
”Father?” I asked, glancing at Max and back to Grant, “what are you saying, Grant?”
”Why do you keep calling me that? It’s me, brother. It’s Lucifer!”
Again, I looked from Grant to Max and back again, still attempting to piece together what my friend was getting at. I couldn’t understand how he recognized me, but not the moniker he had gone by since we met. When the old man began to speak again, I can’t say the words he spoke helped my mind settle down from all of this madness.
”Do you know what happens when an angel dies, Michael?” he asked, still wearing that unsettling grin.
”What? Of course, I don’t, but he didn’t die; not completely!”
”No he didn’t, buddy boy…but you did, so very long ago.”
”Yes…” Grant said, suddenly looking incredibly sad, “I remember now…Michael fell…so many fell back then…how can you be here now, brother?”
”What? Grant! Lucifer, whatever, it’s me!” I insisted, patting my chest, “it’s Michael Bourdon! We’re friends; more than that! Do you remember Lilith? The Orchids? The prison? It’s me, damn it!”
My head was whipping back and forth between the two I was with, while my frenzied brain attempted to make sense of it all.
”How often have you been sick, Michael? How many times have you recovered from severe injuries with no lingering after-effects?”
The old man was studying me as he spoke, no longer wearing that smile; only the serious expression of one seeking the truth of things.
”All the things yer daddy put you through; you came back from every injury “
”It’s not exactly like I healed overnight!” I barked, growing weary from this bizarre interrogation.
”True, you are human after all. Still, how many children would ever get back on their feet again after havin’ their back broken against a wall, before bein’ tossed out a second-story window?”
”You’re exaggerating things,” I replied, as my body began to tremble both at the memories he was bringing up, as well as the implications of his words, “I was messed up for months after that night.”
”Naw, kid. Your spine was severed when you hit that wall. When you hit that sidewalk, your skull damn near spit open like a watermelon. Any other kid woulda been paralyzed or brain dead at best, but not you, Michael.”
”STOP!” I screamed.
Grant was still holding onto me, attempting to remain upright. The expression he wore suggested that he was just as puzzled by the old man’s words as I was, but he didn’t speak. He kept staring at my face, as though he was trying to put together the features in his mind’s eye; to attempt to recognize who or what I really was beneath the flesh. When Max began to speak again, my friend turned his attention back to the man before us.
”You see, Michael, when an angel dies a true and complete death, they move on, not unlike how a human does. It’s the subconscious that makes the decisions in the long run. Angels have souls, not unlike those who walk the earth. Should they choose to reincarnate, they will be brought back into the world in the traditional manner, completely unaware of what they once were. Funny thing about it, though; be it by design or just plain old crazy coincidence, they will always be reborn with the name they were given by their one true father…your true father, Michael.”
”No no no no, you guys are fucking with me here!” I said, backing away from them, shaking my head, and waving my arms like they had me at gunpoint, “Is this a bit, or something? Did you guys work all this out before Grant died? What the hell is this!?”
Of all the barely believable things I had witnessed throughout my life, this was something I could not even begin to take seriously. Why Grant and who I had thought the old man to be would play such a ridiculous joke, I couldn’t figure out, but I knew who I was, and I wasn’t what they were claiming; not by a longshot!
”There’s a reason you two grew so close all those years ago, kid. It may not coincide with the tales that’ve been spun over the years, but Lucifer and Michael were among the closest of all the angels. It broke Michael more than anyone when their daddy cast Lucifer out. It was that very thing that led to Michael’s sacrifice. He chose to fall; to leave heaven behind and never look back. It could be said that you pitched a lil fit when yer daddy wouldn’t hear what you had to say; how you tried to tell him your brother could change. You lil rebel, you.”
The old man cackled a crazed laugh, so hard that he was wiping the jovial tears from his eyes. It wasn’t until that moment; as he continued his attempts to convince me of my supposedly true lineage, that I understood he could not be who I had allowed myself to believe. Even after he so coldly ripped Malphus from this world; sacrificing his essence to bring Grant back from the brink of oblivion, I still maintained the belief that he was the father of my dearest friend. It would seem that was only one more illusion this damned building used to manipulate me.
”Why?” I asked, falling to my knees as the weight of everything overcame me.
Grant looked as perplexed as I felt as he darted his gaze from me to the man he had never laid eyes on before this day.
”Well, that’s the big question, ain’t it? How ‘bout we head back inside,” he said, gesturing to the reformed door-shaped hole in reality, “if y’all behave, I’ll tell ye all about it. Can’t lie; I’ve been dyin’ to tell you the truth for a while now. Damn stroke of genius; this plan I concocted if I do say so myself.”
With the veil finally lifted, I could now see the madness and hunger behind those ancient eyes. I was almost pissed at myself for not seeing it sooner, but he manipulated me at every turn, ever since he lured me to that pier that could only be accessed through the small tavern on the edge of reality.
With Grant still far from himself and my mind spinning from this series of barely believable revelations, I knew there was nothing we could do to escape this place, let alone bring it down to its foundations. All hope had been stripped away, once and for all. Whether I would leave this world as the son of Jacob and Dorothy Bourdon, or a true child of the man upstairs didn’t matter anymore.
As I helped my closest friend through the opening that led from one plane of reality to another, I felt drained and exhausted. Perhaps it was better that it all ends now. If nothing else, whether he remembered who I am now or not, I would be with Grant as we fell into the black together. I would accompany him; my brother, towards whatever may truly lie beyond this place.