Beetlesmith's Ch. 28

Beyond this place of wrath and tears, looms but the horror of the shade.

And yet the menace of the years, finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.

--Invictus; William Ernest Henley

********

Like the condemned man taking that final, agonizing walk to the gallows, I drove home slowly.

I didn't have the courage to see Karen and Gloria and tell them I came up empty-handed. There really wasn't any way out of the mess I've caused. About the only thing of value I learned, and it wasn't much, was that Jack Avery, the first man I gave the elixir too, is my opposite, my Yin.

Poor Jack. Ever since the orgy I staged, he had fallen on hard times. Seems he's acquired an exotic taste for 'canine activities,' to put it mildly, and had been caught several times in public doing the nasty with man's best friend.

It was my fault. I pushed his mind too hard and permanently damaged his psyche when I was helping Denise get out from under him with her divorce. It cost him his job and a normal life in the end.

When Beetlesmith first told me of the existence of a Yin, I contemplated finding out who it might be and kill him, thus disrupting any plans Asmodeus had for us. Now that I know who my Yin is, it doesn't matter. Jack would be as well-protected against death as I am. The only solution that I could see in fixing the mess I've created was the elimination of myself or my Yin, but those two options were denied me.

Checkmate again, Henry.

I saw a sign to a scenic overlook alongside the highway and pulled off. I was about fifteen miles from the city, and I could see the tall buildings of downtown rising above the valley below.

It was twilight time, when the sun had just slipped below the horizon. It had always been my favorite time of day. The stars had yet to stand out against a sky still speckled with a beautiful orange and lavender-colored patchwork of clouds, softly illuminated by the last, refracted rays of the sun.

A warm, gentle breeze from the southwest hinted at summer, and an eerie calm descended across the landscape. It was that part of the day when the day-time animals had sheltered for the evening and the nocturnal wildlife had yet to begin foraging.

I was never much of a city-dweller, preferring the pseudo-rural life of the outer suburbs, but as night descended and I watched the lights begin to wink on along the streets and up the skyscrapers, I couldn't help but see its beauty, and mourned the fact I had rarely spent time within its confines outside of work.

I guess I'm no different than countless others who are about to die. Take one last look at the world and wonder how I let so much time slip away without impact, and what impact I do leave on this world will ring negatively in the future.

And no, I wasn't going to die just yet, but what difference does that make? Now or twenty years from now, my life as I've known it has ended.

And not only my life. I knew that by this time tomorrow everything ends, more or less. Maybe not all at once, but the end will come, slowly and inconspicuously to most. But the world that I've known will end, and end in a very dark future when my sons eventually grow to manhood.

I had no way of stopping it except to take Kahelane's path by denying Asmodeus what it wanted--sons. That I could not do, as selfish as it sounds. I could not sacrifice those that I love for the world that was a stranger to me.

The choice left to me wasn't to go along with Asmodeus' plan or not. I didn't see it that way. My choice is to choose between the world or Karen.

I know in my heart what I told Kahelane was true, 'I didn't know the world, but I know Karen and the others.' And I cannot look her in the eyes, or Gloria's, and say you must die so that a stranger may live.

Kahelane thought I was short-sighted and too concerned with only what I knew rather than the big picture. He implied that my love for Karen was blinding me to the more severe peril, and he was right.

However, I couldn't help but feel that if the world's religions are how the Bright Ones try to influence the good in us, then they have already lost despite what Kahelane thought. I couldn't sacrifice Karen's life for what I considered an already lost cause.

I didn't want to live in hell with her, and I couldn't live in this world without her. So, if I can't stop the former from happening, I would at least grab onto the latter and hold on tight for as long as I could.

Making up my mind on what I would do, I stayed a little bit longer and watched as the world begins to end.

**

The night sky was black as pitch when I finally climbed back into my car to go home. I had delayed the inevitable long enough, and it was time I told Karen and Gloria our remaining options, either the rock or the hard place, with a side order of damnation.

I had no sooner turned onto the highway when Karen's ringtone went off on my cell. I figured she was getting impatient and wondering where I was.

"I know I'm late. I'll be home in about thirty minutes," I said into the phone.

On the other end of the line, I heard a familiar voice from the past.

"I know it was you that fucked me over, Henry."

Roger 'fucking' Kendall.

"Hello Roger. How's the unemployment line been?"

I had forgotten about Roger. Jack Avery wasn't the first male I had given the elixir.

"Keep laughing, asshole, but it's my turn, now. Paybacks are a real bitch and revenge is sweet. Come home Henry, but not too quickly. I want to play with your bitches for a while. Then you can watch while I fuck them in the ass."

He disconnected before I could respond. I drove the rest of the way home like a bat out of Hell, which is kind of appropriate given my destiny.

**

I found them in the bedroom. Karen and Gloria were on the bed, naked and doing the sixty-nine while Kendall watched from a distance.

"Ah Henry," Kendall said with a sneer, "That didn't take long."

"I thought you'd be nine inches deep in a tight ass by now," I said with false bravado, trying to mask my anger and fear.

"All in due time, but first, the moment has arrived for that long-anticipated decision of yours. Choose to side with me. Do the deed and give me sons, and then you and your women can live out the rest of your lives in contentment. Refuse and... well you know what happens. It's time to decide"

At first, his question surprised me into silence, until I realized the person standing in front of me wasn't really Kendall, but Asmodeus.

"I thought you couldn't fully cross the barrier and possess us." I said, still trying to sound calm.

Hearing my voice, Karen and Gloria lifted their heads up from between each other's legs. Their black in black obsidian eyes stared back at me, revealing that they, too, were in possession.

He smiled slyly, and said, "I can't, and I'm not. You and your opposite are different. You're what we amusingly call 'twilight.' You exist right on that boundary between our two planes. So, technically I am still within my own realm. Now, what do you decide?"

It was my turn to smile. "I need a drink first. Care to join me?"

"What?" he said in a tone of disbelief.

I surprised him, and his reaction to my glib answer surprised me. I thought he would have seen all manner of subjugates, from lickspittles and slathering sycophants quivering in abject fear, to those who stood brash and proud, trying to hide their fear. None of it should have phased him, except I had taken him aback with a simple offer of a drink. Moreover, his tone suggested real uncertainty about what I was willing to do. Maybe it was as Kahelane said. I was unique and had real value to Asmodeus where he couldn't risk losing me now that he was at the precipice of his greatest triumph.

I was truly a man with nothing to lose. And although it didn't make me dangerous, as one being without options often became, it did give me an edge. And I wondered how far I could push him into doing something against his better interests?

Time to really dance with the Devil. And make it a waltz, maestro--something slow and intimate for a private affair, up-close and personal.

"How many millennia have you waited for this moment? What's ten minutes more? Let your minions continue playing with each other for a little while longer and have a drink with me. I doubt they will mind."

Not waiting for an answer, I abruptly left him with the women as I went downstairs to the liquor cabinet.

I downed two quick slugs of scotch and then long poured a third before easing into an overstuffed lounger in the living room to wait.

Within a few minutes he stepped into the room. It was difficult for him to mask the slow burn on his face.

"Help yourself to the eighteen-year-old Oban on the counter."

"I prefer wine if I drink."

"In that case, there's an excellent Bordeaux in the cabinet next to the fridge."

"Are you trying to provoke me, Henry?"

"Absolutely not. Given your dangerous lack of impulse control through the centuries, my aim isn't to piss you off. I want to live. I want my wife and friends to live, as well. However, I would like to talk to you on equal footing without worrying about deadly consequences."

He ignored my offer of wine and sat in a chair across from me. Smiling slyly, he asked with a hint of sarcasm, "Equal footing?"

"All of our previous conversations were in my dreams. I felt I was at a disadvantage, and there were many things I wanted to ask you but forgot at the time given the circumstances. At least now we can talk face to face on a neutral playing field."

"Alright, we'll talk. First, explain my lack of impulse control. I didn't like that comment."

"Sorry. I couldn't think of anything better to say."

"You mean anything less insulting."

"You must admit you have an unyielding personality when things don't go your way. For example, in our last conversation you mentioned a woman named Sarah. It was a slip on your part because you were talking about Karen at the time. As I thought about your slip over the past year, I thought you might be referring to Abraham's Sarah, which would make sense related to prophecy, but then I remembered a story from the Tobit. It talks of another Sarah living in a later time. Is that the Sarah you mentioned?"

"You've done your research. I cannot deny that." He hesitated for a moment as if in deep contemplation, then continued, "I have known many Sarahs over the course of my dealings with you mortals, but Raguel's Sarah was special."

"I should think so. Her father married her to seven different suitors, and you slaughtered each of them on their wedding night before they could consummate the marriage. That's quit a fit of jealousy."

"Well, that was a different time, and I was... impetuous."

"So, the story is true?"

"As far as it goes. Your ancient texts are such a jumbled concoction of half-truths and mythology, and far more of the latter than the former. It's a wonder any of you understands anything about yourselves, let alone the world."

"What made Sarah so special?"

It was obvious I had touched a very sensitive nerve with that question as he stared back at me with barely contained fury in his eyes.

"I don't mean to pry. I only ask because you implied that Karen and this Sarah are much alike."

His eyes slowly returned to normal as he explained, "She was extremely beautiful and innocent, but not naïve. She was wise far beyond her years, knowing the ways of the world while maintaining a chaste distance from it. She carried no illusions about any of it, or of me. She possessed all the fine qualities of your kind wrapped up in a single person, but mostly she was wholly incorruptible. Call her an infatuation. Call her an indulgence. One time I was not above such petty emotions. Now, if you're satisfied with my answer, I would quickly move onto another topic."

I kept prodding, "You see these qualities in Karen?"

"You're beginning to bore me. If I were you, I would get on with it before you witness my lack of impulse control first-hand."

"I just wanted to say that I was both proud and humbled to learn that a powerful being as yourself took a keen interest in Karen, but I'll move on." I added, jokingly, "Getting back to the Tobit, can I expect Raphael to save me?"

He smiled, and said, "Not hardly. The days when The Others took an active interest in human affairs are over. This is my time now. I'm on the ascension."

"So, none of the Bright Ones will intervene on my behalf like they did for Sarah?"

"I told you before, absentee landlords."

"Not quite. As with you, I know now the Bright Ones are continually working behind the scenes, as I now understand the purpose of my sons. They are meant to break the influence of the Others. You hinted at it the last time we talked when you said something along the line: 'Their influence has been right under my nose ever since I walked this earth.' They influence humanity through the great religions of the world, and my sons will set out to destroy those religions."

He sat back in his chair and smiled. "Bravo. You've reasoned it out. You're more intelligent than I thought, or, at least, more intuitive."

"I can't take credit for that. I talked with another who's more intuitive."

He lifted an eyebrow before commenting, "Ah yes, Kahelane. When did he figure things out?"

"Not till very late in the game. Not until I talked with him. I provided him the final clue," I paused a moment for effect, "A clue I got from Beetlesmith, by the way."

He was visibly agitated, and for the first time not with me. "Beetlesmith talks too much. I'll have words with the old bastard after this is over." He stared at me again, and then shifted his ire back to me, "I hope you're not thinking of doing anything foolish like Kahelane. He was good too, like you, but not good enough. He failed miserably in the end. Just as you will if you make the same choice."

"That's what I'm talking about with 'impulse control.' Sarah, Kahelane, and probably with countless others, maybe you could have handled things better?"

"Really? Amuse me with your insights."

"How many like me have you put in this situation? Not the ones who went along with your plan. I'm more curious about those who refused you out of some sense of duty to goodness. Men who would sacrifice all that they knew and loved for a world they didn't. Men like Kahelane."

"Would you believe I lost count?"

"No. I think you remember everyone and everything, particularly every slight heaped on you. And let me tell you why I believe this using my insights, as you say. When Beetlesmith first told me about you and the plan and what was expected of me, my first thought wasn't about protecting the world and its people. My only concerns were for Karen and Gloria and nothing else. Granted, I was under the mistaken impression that I alone was destined for Hell. Beetlesmith saw to that with his lies, and I was still stupid enough to believe him. So, thinking my time and power were limited, I set about ensuring their safety by giving them material wealth when I was gone, and created Roman Wilderness for that purpose."

He laughed heartily, and said without modesty, "It was a magnificent plan, you'd have to admit."

"Oh yes, magnificent and executed to perfection."

He sneered at my answer. "The damning of so many souls isn't what makes it perfect. It's that I used your love against you. Love is an emotion that runs deep in your kind, and for good reason. Love is the foundation of all that is good and kind in the universe. It is even the bulwark of something as esoteric as a need for justice and to differentiate between right and wrong. And I took that powerful emotion that is used by your kind to foment good and turned it on its head. I made you use your love to perform a great evil, and that's the sweetest thing. That's what's perfect."

"And it's because of that love that gives me the courage to talk with you now."

He lifted an eyebrow, amused. "Ah. Now we come to the real reason for our little talk. You wish to bargain. I don't need to tell you how that went for Milton's Faust or the myriad of other idiots of your kind stupid enough to cross wits with me through the years."

"Not a bargain, per se. I have nothing to bargain with except my compliance, but I would like to enter into a mutual accord that may benefit both of us."

Again, he cocked an eyebrow but this time out of curiosity.

I continued, "First, let me finish with my insights. Even though I didn't understand or know what I was doing, there are many who would say that my decision to blindly follow along was selfish. And on some level, I would agree with them. But this last time with Beetlesmith, when it became clear to me what I had truly done and what will become of the world once it's under your dominion, my first thought wasn't saving the world at all. The world simply disappeared into a black hole of forgotteness. My only thought was to protect those I love from the insanity that will soon descend on everyone. More selfishness, I suppose."

"Indeed," he said, laughingly.

"That was three days ago, and since then I've thought a great deal about what's expected of me and what it means. And the more I thought, the more I realized mine was a natural reaction. How could it not be? Who in their right mind would choose slaughtering their own family instead of a stranger?

"Kahelane did."

"Yes, Kahelane did. I wonder where he found the strength. As for me, I'm like everyone else. Most of us are weak, and when faced with life or death we will choose life no matter how degrading that life may end up being. Along those same lines we try to protect those we love, first. Everything else is secondary.

"Kahelane thought the world was improving. That the Others' influence was winning out and making us better in the long run. He may be right, I don't know. But I couldn't help feeling he was just grasping at straws by trying to rationalize his decision. And even now, I can't help feeling the world has already fucked itself beyond redemption, and whatever decision I make today won't really change the outcome one way or the other. It will speed up our journey into Hell, but it won't change our trajectory."

"Then the decision should be easy for you. Why stand in the way of the inevitable?"

"It still doesn't comfort me knowing that even in some small way I'll be responsible in converting the whole world into slathering, murderous imbeciles enthralled to evil incarnate."

He laughed uproariously at first, and oddly enough, I heard no malice to his tone, just merriment. Between his mirthful cackles, he mused, "Slavering imbeciles. You have just encapsulated your whole failed race with just a simple phrase. Well done, William. You seem to find humor in any situation. Better than most of your kind."

"I wasn't trying to be funny."

"And that's your one, true flaw, William. You are too honest. I would have thought the events of the past year would have purged you of such pedestrian tripe."

I ignored his backhanded compliment and pressed on. "Besides Kahelane and myself, how many useful idiots have you done this to before?"

"I told you this already."

I said in a mocking tone, "Not really. I suspect hundreds, but probably thousands before me. So many attempts and so many failures..."

"Careful now. I like you William, but you're testing my patience again. There are other ways I can punish you besides death, for you and those you love, and still get what I want."

"Yes, I've seen the two guardians down below... and their handiwork."

"There are worse things than my hounds that reside in the pits of Hell, and there are far worse things that can happen to you besides flaying. Don't spoil my plans for you."

"I can't be sure, of course, but I have a feeling Kahelane was one of the first to reject your offer, and it irked you. Frustratingly, what with so many thousands of failures before, then to have this insolent human with so much potential deny you your ascension by giving you the proverbial finger. No wonder you lost it and slaughtered his whole family, friends included. As I said, poor impulse control."

His eyes flashed a molten violet color at my insult. Slowly, yet resolutely, he rose out of the chair with what I could only describe as violent intent stamped across his face. I instinctively recoiled as preparation of the blow that was sure to come. Then, in an instant, his mood changed, and he sat back down with a chuckle.

"You are a fine advisory, William. Well done. Very well done, indeed, but I'm not going to be goaded into killing you. Not yet anyway."

My heart sank as my one last thread of hope to undue the damage I had done evaporated in an instant.

He smiled, seeing the despondent look on my face.

Quickly composing myself as best I could, I tried another tact, "I'm sorry for my ham-handed attempt at goading you. I had to try. That said, I wonder if you would indulge me and listen to a proposition I have..."

He rolled his eyes, and said, "You are really beginning to bore me."

"It will be in both our benefits. Just a few minutes more, please. At least until I finish my scotch."

"Come to the point quickly, or you'll be fucking your women with four broken limbs."

I began slowly, "Now, I'm just thinking out loud..."

"Don't think, William. You and your kind have neither the IQ nor the practice."

Ignoring his knowledgeable dig at humanity, I continued, "First, I'm unsure why I and my sons..."

"My sons," He corrected.

"I'm unsure why we are needed for your plans anymore. I have already damned the whole world for you. I've seen your sigil on every forehead, man and woman, as a testament to that fact. Why are we still necessary?"

"We are not here to win a single battle in this war. We are going to end it all. Now and forever. The advantage you've given me is only temporary and can be undone in a few generations. My sons will ensure that doesn't happen."

"Now that you've brought up the children, it provides a nice segue for my proposition to you. Have you ever thought why it never works? With the children, I mean. Is it because the Bright Ones are interfering with your plan? I've been wondering of late."

He watched me intently but stayed silent.

I answered my own question, "No, you said they don't interfere anymore. Free will and all that shit. So, it must be the process itself. Now, I know you can guarantee fertility. So whatever else the useful idiots do, they're not shooting blanks into barren wombs. Miscarriages and stillbirths are rare, particularly with the advent of modern medicine. So, I certainly can't see that happening thousands of times over. Consequently, the problem must occur after birth. Am I close to the mark with my reasoning?"

Only the barest of smiles creased his lips indicating he was still listening.

"I can imagine how it goes. Most of the children are born healthy and whole and show great potential in becoming the personification of Asmodeus on Earth. But then something happens, and probably very early in their development. They all take a turn to the sullen, I bet. Needing to be charismatic extroverts and leaders of all people, they become introverts, instead. I suspect that as children, they soon morph into sadistic loners that lack any type of industry or ambition except for a desire to pull the wings off flies or torture the family pets. And as they grow, and if they listen to their conscience at all, they begin to hide their more sadistic tendencies. They keep a low profile from the rest of society and only torment those closest to them. Most become petty criminals; too lazy to work and too stupid to do anything else but grift and steal. Most are wife beaters and abuse their own children, cowardly praying on the only people at hand that can satisfy their frustration and rage at who they've become. The rage is their way of lashing out at the injustice of life, instinctively knowing they were destined for greater things except for some fatal flaw in their character that led them to such a low life."

He still said nothing.

I continued, "That's the best outcome your progeny have achieved down through the ages; they become sullen, sadistic losers that waste all their potential on petty grievances. Worse, however, are those that rarely, if ever, listen to their conscience. They despise everything about society, and the collective good often inherent in a civilization that is represented by its shared mores and laws. So, they openly flaunt their hatred of that society to feed their frustrations and bloodlust. They become true sociopaths, but they're not unintelligent ones. They still fear society and what the collective of humanity will do to them if they are discovered, and rightly so.

"The ones without ambition continue to camouflage themselves, stealing, raping, and murdering on the quiet, and doing nothing too overt to attract attention to their deeds. They are the part-time deviates, not risking too much exposure or satisfying their bloodlust too often. Consequently, they can continue to live a comfortable life free of the watchful eyes of civilization. But anonymity is never certain. Sometimes they're caught. Sometimes they leave trails, and those clues lead to trials. Sometimes they are even found guilty. And sometimes they even feel regret but regret only that they were caught.

"The more ambitious sociopaths go the extra mile, I suspect. They embrace their personas full force. Maybe they become serial killers or worse. A Ted Bundy or Donald Henry Gaskins; still sadistic loners wasting their potential to greatness, but they use that charisma and guile they inherited from you to lure unsuspecting innocents close to them so that they can be murdered with impunity to satisfy their inherited wickedness.

"That is their only goal in life; to kill and then slyly, and without clue, leave the mangle corpses in the open so society can see and weep over the unfortunate. That's what gives them the greatest rush of all, to see the unfathomable pain and misery they inflict on everyone, victims and their families alike. To see how many lives they can destroy with a single cut of the knife and watch the resultant chaos to civilization from a safe distance. It's their way of poking their thumb in the eyes of the greater good while enacting revenge at being born with twisted and crippled souls.

"Regrettably, and relative to your wants, of course, the one thing they never do is write their grand manifestoes hoping to influence the world to turn away from religion and to turn away from the greater good. They never become leaders of men that can rule nations and change a world. Throughout their lives they remain small and vicious creatures, believing in nothing, not even you. As such, the power you grant them is always wasted, internalized and then misdirected to satisfy only their own selfish bloodlust.

"I assume that what I have just described is what has always happened before, and by your silence I can only believe I'm close to the mark."

He smiled a cunning smile. "Close, but not in the bullseye."

"Close will have to do. You and I both know this is the best chance of your plan ever working. Given time, the childrenwill be the perfect cyphers of your will. I can feel it. Beetlesmith certainly did. He was giddy as a schoolboy when he finally outlined your plan to me. His eyes were alight with joyful promise and anticipation that everything was going to finally work out; form birth until death, from beginning to end, from alpha to omega and all that shit. He said it was all unprecedented. And I sense that same joyful anticipation in you, as well. You feel its potential success deep in your bones, to use an apt metaphor. Everything is working as you intended. Working out in such a way that it's even exceeding your wildest dreams, and all proved when you made me your proxy and damning the world with a single glance. How many times has that happened? Never, I suspect. Not even once. Not even close to the bullseye. But you and I know this time is different. This time is unique. This time it should work."

"Go on."

"However, and here's the rub, nothing is ever certain, is it? No. Nothing is ever certain until it happens, and by that time it's too late to do anything about it if it goes wrong. No matter how successful your plan seems, it can still fail. So, here is the mutual accord that I spoke of, and one that may benefit both of us: maybe I can guarantee certainty that my sons will live up to your expectations..."

He cut me off with a loud cackle, and then said, sarcastically, "So now you are a great prophet who can discern what mistakes were made? And not only can you see mistakes that have eluded even me, but you're the only one wise enough to avoid them?"

"I'm no prophet, but I know things of human nature that may even have eluded you."

"I have no doubt you believe that, and it is insufferably arrogant of you to think it."

"I'm not trying to insult you. I'm trying to point out that because you are not human you may have missed subtle things inherent in us; human characteristics that, if left unaccounted for, will create negative consequences down the road, at least from your perspective."

"And what are these human characteristics that have eluded me for millennia?"

"What made me different? How is it that I received your power and used it to great effect, while your progeny always failed, given the same power? And failed miserably I might add. I'm the key. Figure out why I'm different, and the answer may solve your problems."

"I'm sure you'll tell me."

"Before I do, I ask one small favor in return."

"Humor me first. Tell me how you can guarantee a favorable outcome."

"Very well, tell me when you start to influence the progeny? How soon after their birth?"

He sat silently and just stared back at me. He wasn't even going to help me with this.

"Be that way. I'm guessing they're not even talking yet, let alone walking."

Another long silence.

"In fact, I bet it's not too soon after they take their first breath of air.

He finally said, irritated, "I like to begin their indoctrination before they're weaned. It's easier that way."

"I have no doubt it's easier, but it never turns out as you expected. And the reason is, I believe we humans are not ready for that degree of influence when we are that young. We need to be armored against the world first, before we can even begin to grapple with issues of serious weight. We are neither Bright Ones nor Cruel ones. Unlike your kind, we are not born good or evil. This is what many of my people have even forgotten or never realized. They have a romantic view of humanity, mistakenly believing people are born good, when in fact we are born innocent."

"So? Good or innocent, corrupting them is the same thing, and I've done both."

"But they are not the same. Being innocent is not the same as being good. Being innocent is essentially being an..."

"A blank slate? Was that what you were going to say? You're not telling me anything I don't know, dimwit. Besides, being a blank slate should work even more in my favor. It's easier to corrupt a thing that has yet to differentiate good from evil as opposed to a being that has already experienced the good."

I ignored his insult, and said, "Not a blank slate. I was going to say we are closer to an un-tempered vessel at birth. And what usually happens when you pour an intense, volatile mixture too soon and too rapidly into an unseasoned container? At best, the crucible cracks. At worst, it shatters into hundreds of pieces. Either way, the vessel is rendered useless for what it is intended. The innocent cannot contain your essence without becoming damaged. I think that much is evident."

"Maybe," he said after some thought, "So tell me about your ingenious solution to this dilemma."

"Allow Karen, Gloria, and me to raise the children as parents for a specified interval without any interference from you. This way we can train them, teach them, armor them and protect them against the rigors of life and this world. We will make them into seasoned, mature adults that eventually accept your powers without damage to their psyches. If you allow me an unhindered period of training and teaching, they will become perfect cyphers of your will."

"Armor them and protect them against the rigors of life?" he said with a sneer, "You mean against me and my influence. Is this your big idea? You mold them into good and decent humans with high-minded morals and ethics, all while I sit passively by and watch."

"I saw myself as a good and decent person, and yet you had no trouble corrupting me."

"This would be different. You never believed in my existence. It's easier to corrupt someone if they are unsuspecting. And I am sure you will make certain they know of my existence and know everything about me. You will do your best to armor them against me, not against life or the world as you say, but against me. I won't have that. The answer is no."

"What could I say or do that would shield them from your seductive powers? You said so yourself, you've been corrupting the world since the beginning, and as far as I can tell, you're winning the war of influence of my kind over the Bright Ones. I'm sure my sons will be no different than the rest of humanity. However, and this I know is a guarantee, if you enter them too soon, you will damage them, just as you've damaged all the others before. You know this to be true.

"What have you got to lose? The way I see it, you can wait a few more years so that I can season them, or you can wait another thousand years for a second chance with someone like me when your plan inevitably fails again. I think the choice is obvious."

I felt a deadly pall descend on the room as he stared into my eyes, unblinking. Finally, he took a deep breath, and said, "Very well. I'll let you have them for a time without my interference. But be warned, William, I will always be watching, and if I get even the barest scintilla of a hint you are interfering in my plans for the children, I'll take them back... right after I disembowel your women right in front of your eyes. Understood?"

"How much time will we have with them?"

"That's none your concern right now. Do you accept my conditions?"

I figure it was the best I could achieve at the moment, and answered, grudgingly, "I accept."

"Of course you accept. Now if there isn't anything else, it's time for you to preform your husbandly duties."

"Just one more thing, if you please. There's the matter of that small favor I asked for..."

"Another favor? What was it I just granted if not a favor?"

"That was a mutual agreement that benefits both of us. You get perfect envoys of your power on earth, while I, at least, get two sons that won't end up acting like low-born, vindictive and vicious homicidal trolls that are no use to anyone."

"Alright. Go on. What is this small favor? Amuse me further."

"If my sons do reach their potential as your representatives on earth, they, on their own, will turn the rest of humanity into your disciples, forever. No one will ever find their way back into the light, as they will have extinguished all pathways back to goodness. In so doing, they will provide you an even larger army of the damned to fight the Others, more than I have done, and that army will be far more loyal to you and your cause."

"Yes. So?"

"You really don't need those I have corrupted already. Release them from your bonds, if only temporarily."

He bellowed an abrupt but loud chortle, more out of astonishment than amusement, before answering, "Absolutely not!"

"Release them," I said quickly, "You will have plenty of time to replenish the troops once my sons become whatever it is they become. In the meantime, set everything back to what it was before I meddled, and allow the people of the world to continue with their lives doing good or evil in accordance with their own natures. Allow them to exercise their own free will, and if some do end up in Hell because they continue to do wrong, then it will be of their own accord and not because of what I've done."

"You wish me to vacuum your conscience..."

"Now that I've had time to think on it, I'm beginning to side with Kahelane. I don't want to be responsible for what happens to everyone."

"Sorry William, I'm not going to give away the superior advantage you've given me. I will still need that army even with my sons, but not for the reasons you think. However, I'm not wholly unreasonable, contrary to how much you think I lack impulse control. As a gesture of good faith, I'll allow you to name one person, and I will release them from my bonds. They will go back to their life as it was before any of this happened, and they will live out the rest of their life on their own accord, as you put it."

"Just one? At least allow me ten."

He pushed a bold finger in the air, and said with irritation, "One and only one, and don't ask again."

"Very generous," I said, not trying to hide my sarcasm.

"I think so. I don't have to release anyone, and you're in no position to demand any more than I give you."

I didn't have to think about it. "If I can only have one, then let it be Lydia."

He lifted his eyebrows. "Interesting. You are full of surprises. I was sure you would have picked Karen or Gloria. I was hoping you would have picked yourself."

"I know. That's why you baited me with just one name. It would have been 'no deal' from the start. A choice wasted."

He smiled, wickedly, "Very astute of you, and you're right. Your pick would have been wasted."

"I know you would never release me, and Karen and Gloria are a package deal. I couldn't name one and not the other. However, Lydia is... was, blameless. She was a sweet, innocent girl until I saw her, and more than anything I've done so far, I regret that I was instrumental in her corruption. I wouldn't want to continue with her soul on my conscience."

"That may be, but I'm going to decline your request. Potentially, she's still too dangerous to absolve."

"You said to choose one name, and I choose Lydia. Whatever she is or will be, she's damaged now and of little help to the Bright Ones."

"You think so."

"Just release her. Let her redeem herself so that she has a chance of avoiding Hell. If she becomes a danger to your plan down the road, I'll take care of it. I handled her once. I can handle her again."

"Just as long as I let you keep that great cock of yours, eh William?"

"Well, I don't mind admitting it is a very effective tool of persuasion for some people. Lydia was always susceptible to its wily charms. It was her downfall, in the end." I then added, earnestly, "Release her. Please."

"Very well."

He closed his eyes while tipping his face up to the ceiling. His eyelids fluttered briefly before he opened them up to look at me, again. Giving me a sly wink, he said, "Done. Now with that bit of business out of the way, I have a proposal for you that will benefit both of us.

"I was going to wait to ask you this until after we have concluded our business and set the coming events into motion; however, now that you've pressed the issue... You're right, of course, I don't need an army of the damned to convert the world and beat the Others. If successful, my sons will do this on their own. But I will need that army for the war to come," he paused to chuckle to himself before finishing, "The war that will be waged after all the species of the universe are turned into slathering, murderous imbeciles, to use your comical description."

"What war?"

"When all is said and done it will be remembered as the war of the seven brothers."

I was confused for a moment by his cryptic statement until I realized what he meant. "So, there really are seven of you. Kahelane thought there was just you, alone; a singular entity assuming different guises of evil to suit your purposes."

"No, sorry to say, there are seven of us. 'Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven,' that's the common phrase, isn't it? At least that's what we tell each other, anyway, as the Others ran roughshod over us throughout the ages. But none of us really rule in Hell, either. It's all done by committee. A committee made up of fools and slothful idiots only interested in their petty pursuits. None of them have the vision or courage to fight openly, but they are still determined and selfish enough to block anyone from assuming the mantle of command, alone. That is until now. They have confounded me for the last time. We stand on the precipice of change and can finally take control of this universe with one bold move. This unique opportunity has never occurred. Not ever in millennia beyond counting. And it's all due to my endeavors, alone. I will not share my victory with them."

He paused for a moment to smile, and then asked, "Haven't you ever wondered what happens to you and yours once this world is through with you?"

"I try not to think about it, and I certainly don't guess, but I'm sure it has something to do with Heaven or Hell."

"Hell indeed. Hell is the destination of all branded with my sigil, but in what purpose will you serve in my domain?"

"I assume the torment of the damned, in service for your sadistic entertainment."

He waved a dismissive hand at my words as if swatting at a fly, and said angrily, "So here is my proposal to you. Do everything that I ask concerning your progeny. Rear them as your own, teach them, armor them, and develop them to become fit vessels for my power and to assume my mantle without rancor, but never turn them against me. After that, live out the rest of your life in peace and comfort with your women until it is your time to journey across the great barrier and into the next reality. And on that moment you enter Hell, you will serve as my general and assume command of my armies."

That was an offer I never would have expected. But now that I heard it, I didn't want it. So much so, I didn't know how to respond, so I just blurted out, "Me? I-I don't know anything about war or military tactics."

"Contrary to what you've been told, you don't need to have a great military mind to win battles. You just need to be a great leader. And who better than you, William, the one creature in the universe who singlehandedly brought billions of potential warriors into my fold, who better than you to lead them into battle?"

I responded, suspiciously, "How could I, a mortal, hope to fight and win against gods?"

"You're more than a mortal now and we are not gods, but you will make me one, you and your armies. I promised you a kingdom of your own, and you shall have it. Stand with me, William, and lead my army to victory against my brothers."

He didn't wait for an answer as he stood up from the chair, "And now it's time to do your duty and give me sons. Do you accept this task of your own free will and volition?"

I stared at him blankly, thinking the question absurd given everything that has happened, and then said, "Of course. What the fuck have we just been discussing..."

"You need to say the words, William," he interrupted, "say the words as I've put them to you."

Reluctantly, I got down on one knee, and began, "Yes, I accept this task to knock-up my wife and friend..."

"Without theatrics or mocking, William. Do you accept this task I charge you with?"

"After all this time with you and Beetlesmith, we're following rules, now?"

"We've always followed them."

"Really? Who made these rules?"

By the look he gave me, he wasn't going to answer my question. So, I resigned myself to say the words, "Yes, I accept this task and do so of my own free will and volition."

"Very good, William, very good. Now, begin with the younger of the two, if you please."

*****

I woke up in bed, alone, and with my cell phone ringing from somewhere. I let voicemail answer.

The first thing I felt was a severe pain in and around my buttocks, which grew even more intense as my sleep-stupor lessened. Reaching a hand around to my backside, I encountered something wet and sticky--blood. I could feel that a sizable amount had pooled and was beginning to dry on the sheets where I lay.

It all started coming back to me.

The women were waiting, seductively sprawled across the bed when Asmodeus and I entered the room. Their black obsidian eyes stared lifelessly at me. Only their heads swiveled as they followed my movements around the room.

"Remember, the young one first, William," Asmodeus said, with just a hint of nervous anticipation

Gloria's incubus laid back on her elbows, staying docile at first. A subtle smile creased her lips as she languidly fingered her pussy while watching my growing hard-on form. Pushing her breasts forward seductively, she brought her knees up to the sides of her chest and stretched her arms out as a seductive gesture of welcome. Her small smile blossomed into a full-blown grin as the tip of my massive hard-on barely touched her opening.

"Now make my little wet twat cream with delight!" She commanded, laughingly.

I only needed to pound into her dank, drenched mish a few times before she was screaming in pleasure--it was good to see I still got the touch even though my powers are on the wane. Well, I guess the big dick helps.

Without saying a word, Gloria's succubus lay back on the bed, sated. My excess cum flowed out of her gaping cunt and onto the sheets beneath her. Staring at me with those dead eyes and dreamy smile, it dipped a playful finger into my leavings and licked the gathered excess off her finger in a seductive manner.

I knew the signal, having seen it countless times on her face and many other women over the past year, and I could never resist the invitation. It wanted much more from me and was inviting me back inside.

"You're greedy," I said, having plans on reentering her.

I heard Asmodeus say from behind me, "Time enough for sloppy seconds later, William. Now do the other."

Karen's succubus was already submissively waiting with her legs spread wide and her chest heaving in long, gasping breaths of anticipation.

"Beg me, you slutty cunt!" I commanded with false bravado.

It burst into wild laughter. Then grabbing a hunk of my hair, it pulled my head between her legs, and said, gutturally, "Eat me first, cocksucker! Eat me! Then, stick that fat cock in my snatch."

The scent of Karen's intoxicating arousal filled my nostrils as I took great sucking bites at her quivering pussy. The succubus continued playfully laughing, arching her back in mounting pleasure as she pulled my head harder and deeper between her arousal-soaked groin.

Just as I established a nice rhythm with my lips and tongue that had the slutty succubus audibly moaning in pleasure, I felt a cold, hard hand clutch the back of my neck like a vice, pulling me off her.

Asmodeus slid his head alongside mine as he continued squeezing my neck and making me wince in pain. His breath came hot and fetid when he spoke, "Business first, my pet."

I couldn't tell whether he was speaking to me or the succubus, but I did know what 'business first' meant. The succubus did, as well. While continuing to laugh maniacally, it spread her legs as wide as it could and grabbed my hips to pull me into her.

The succubus let out a loud, abrupt yelp of pleasure as I rammed my cock all the way in, but before I could begin pumping, some unseen force pushed and held me tight against her so that I couldn't move.

Suddenly, I felt something very hot and very hard pressing against my virgin asshole. I didn't have to guess what was instore for me next.

I frantically tried to twist away from the succubus, but it was a vain effort. All my futile efforts did was exhaust me further and ignite more evil-maniacal laughter from the succubus.

"I remember you once asked Beetlesmith how he proposes to get your barren wife pregnant," Asmodeus hissed close to my ear, "I'm about to show you."

I tried to scream for him to stop, but all that came out of me was a loud, guttural, "Jesus fucking Christ!" It felt like my virgin sphincter was being ripped to shreds. The searing pain initially caused my cock to deflate and shrivel down to the size of a limp cocktail weiner.

Asmodeus laughed at my reaction, and answered, snidely, "Don't you think it's a little late in the game to be calling Him for help?"

All of this provided a never-ending source of amusement for the succubus who laughed uproariously at my predicament. And as she watched the excruciating pain spread across my face as Asmodeus pushed further into me, she began to taunt me, "Aww, what's the matter William, can't fuck with a cock up your ass? I bet your bitches gave you the same look when you invaded their perky assholes with that huge meat stick of yours. Turnabout is fair play. How does it feel to be on the receiving end, big boy?"

Excruciating pain was radiated from my asshole and was more than I could bear. Each time Asmodeus pushed in a little deeper, my now shriveled cock would crawl even deeper into my groin. When Asmodeus pushed into me balls deep with a sudden jolt. I could no longer keep myself from screaming.

"Come William, time to give me a son," he chuckled above my screams.

"I-I c-can't! G-Give me... t-time."

"Time is a luxury you don't have. Now quit delaying!"

With tears of pain running down my cheeks, I tried pleading patience, but I could only grunt a pathetic, guttural shriek.

He said with mounting irritation, "You're beginning to weary me with your obstinance. Get it up and get copulating, William, or you're going to experience pain your feeble mind can't even imagine."

Somehow, I was able to get hard enough to enter the succubus, but I don't remember much about fucking the creature, except for what happened at the very end.

As I neared climax, I felt what could only be described as an electric current pass between us. It emanated from Asmodeus, passed through me with a jolt, and then entered Karen. When I felt a warm glow envelope her womb and my cock as I came, I knew instinctively she would give birth in nine months.

I passed out right after.

**

Waking up, disoriented and alone, it took me a moment to realize I was still in my bedroom.

Gingerly getting out of bed, I made my way into the bathroom. I could still feel blood trickling down my legs. Packing one of Karen's maxi pads with additional tissue paper, I secured it best I could over my wounded asshole.

My cell phone went off again, and again I ignored it.

I called out for Karen and Gloria, but there was no answer.

I ran through the house in a panic calling their names, but they were gone.

When I heard my cell phone going off for a third time, I finally realized what happened. Answering, I yelled into the phone, "Where are they, you cocksucker?!"

Beetlesmith said on the other end of the line, "I'll give you an hour to get to my shop."

"Wow, listen to the tough guy making demands. One-hour tough guy? Or what, you'll kill me?"

"Nothing so dramatic..."

"Shut the fuck up," I interrupted, "You realize it takes me at least an hour and a half to drive into the city, you fucking idiot. Unless, of course, I sprout wings..."

"Two hours..."

"Fuck you, you fat prick!" I interrupted, and then threw the phone against the wall, shattering it.

**

I was parked across the street in front of his shop about an hour and some change later. The streets and expressways were eerily deserted, like some post-apocalyptic dreamscape. The only sign of movement anywhere were small bits of paper and similar trash that casually made their way hither and yon across the streets and roads, born on a gentle spring breeze.

Beetlesmith's shop was darkened, save for a feeble yellow light that flickered from some point in the back of his store. Nothing remained of the bric-a-brac and antiques that usually decorated the store front. Everything had been removed for this moment.

The shop's door was unlocked.

As my eyes adjusted to the gloom of the shop's interior, I could make out what could only be described as an altar made of stone standing at the far end of the shop. Above it was a series of cuneiform letters or hieroglyphics deeply carved into a large stone tablet. Sitting on the altar were two lighted candles and a large bowl decorated with the same cuneiform lettering. I could just make out Beetlesmith's squat form standing off to the side of the alter in the shadows.

Form somewhere deep in the gloom, I heard Karen's voice full of panic and fear, "Will, is that you?"

Before I could answer her, Beetlesmith snapped, "Be quiet woman. This doesn't concern you."

"Where's Gloria?" I asked him.

"She's here with your wife," Beetlesmith answered, "And before you ask, she's in good health... for now."

Beetlesmith stepped to the side revealing Karen and Gloria. Both were naked and shaking in fear. A fine veneer of perspiration glistened on their flushed faces and upper torsos. They held each other close, but when they saw me, they attempted to move away from Beetlesmith and closer to me, but he stopped them with an outstretched arm. It was then I saw blood dripping from their hands.

"What did you do to them?" I screamed.

"Calm yourself, Mr. Henry. It's only a little bloodletting."

Seeing that they were both alive and in one piece I smiled, trying to give them a modicum of strength and courage, and then asked Beetlesmith, sarcastically, "Did you fuck them on that altar?"

"My heavens no, Mr. Henry, though a temping thought to be sure. That is neither my province nor my weakness."

"As I thought, you prefer little boys you can bully with your tiny cock."

"More insults, Mr. Henry? I would think you'd grow tired of trying to be so cavalier during matters of great consequence."

"What's in the bowl?"

"Oh good, back to business then. The reason for the bloodletting. The sacred blood of the innocent is needed to complete the final rite. Usually, we take the heart as the ancient Aztecs had done, but since we still need your women to... you know..." His voice trailed off as he shrugged his shoulders in mock contriteness.

I could only shake my head in astonished disbelief, before saying, "I doubt an advanced civilization as you portend to be would have anything to do with stone altars, ancient glyphs, and blood rites when there's no reason to hide your true natures, anymore."

Beetlesmith sneered, "And you know this, how, by all of your extensive experience with other advanced civilizations? Think what you will, Mr. Henry, your confounded ignorance has always been a wonderful source of amusement for us.

"Now that we have these few final moments together may I amuse you with an observation. You know what your problem is, Mr. Henry? You and your whole imbecilic tribe have yet to figure out how the universe is gamed. You unthinkingly shoot your rockets into space without knowing what's waiting for you out there. Trust me, Mr. Henry, if you really knew what awaits you, your whole miserable race would abandon any notion of technological advancement and crawl back into the caves you sprang from and hide."

"You're first and foremost a liar. Why should I believe this or anything else you might say?"

"Sometimes I'm a liar. Usually when it suits me. And as usual, you are being stupid right to the bitter end. I don't know why I bother trying to explain things to you," Beetlesmith uttered a heavy sigh of frustration before continuing, "No matter. Now, to answer your question in terms you might understand by using small words, the Master says we should always follow our traditions; thus, the reason for this ancient façade in keeping with those traditions. Now, if you would step closer to that ancient edifice we can conclude our business."

"What's all this about..."

"More questions?" Beetlesmith interrupted impatiently, "I'm a liar, remember, and I am done explaining things to you, Mr. Henry. All that need concern you now is to act on what is demanded of you. Nothing more. Nothing less. Now, to the altar, Mr. Henry. Please. I shan't ask nicely again."

Standing over the altar, I saw that the bowl was already partially filled with what could only be Karen's and Gloria's blood. From seemingly out of nowhere, Beetlesmith produced a knife. It was a long, curved blade with an elaborate guard and handle having the same cuneiform writing on it as the tablet and altar.

"Extend your hand over the bowl, if you would, Mr. Henry."

As I brought my arm up, Beetlesmith snatched my wrist and held my hand over the bowl.

"Unclench your fist, Mr. Henry."

As I did, Beetlesmith brought the knife close to my palm and began chanting in some unrecognizable language. When his voice reached a fevered pitch, he swiped the blade deep across my palm.

The sudden pain made me flinch and I tried to pull away, but Beetlesmith held my wrist tightly, allowing my blood to drip into the bowl and mingle with Karen's and Gloria's.

He released my wrist when he was satisfied he had enough of my blood and renewed his chanting. As he reached a new vocal crescendo, he raised up the bowl and then poured the bowl's contents onto the altar.

It was quite a contrast in color as the crimson color of our blood stood out starkly against the alabaster white of the altar top. Crimson trails ran off the edge of the altar top and dripped onto the floor.

Raising his arms out to the side while closing his eyes, he spoke in an altogether unhuman and otherworldly voice that was not his own, "It is done."

"That wasn't so bad, was it, Mr. Henry?" Beetlesmith said with his voice returned to normal, "And now, one more important task for you to do and then you and your women are free to leave."

"What would that be?" I asked, flippantly, "Am I now supposed to sacrifice a goat or maybe a virgin. I know, a virgin goat?"

Beetlesmith's lips curled up into that all too familiar grim and cunning smirk I've come to hate, and answered, "Not a bad guess, Mr. Henry, but you won't have to perform the dirty deed yourself. You just need to pick a name." He paused for a moment waiting for my answer, and then added casually, "Any name will do."

"Do for what, you sick fuck?!"

"You said it yourself, Mr. Henry, for a sacrifice. Life must be paid with life. It's tradition, as I've told you. Now, give me a name."

Of all the things I've heard, seen and done over these many years, he still had the ability to confound me into utter dumbfounded silence. All I could do was stare at him blankly, hoping he wasn't suggesting what I thought he was suggesting.

"Come, come, Mr. Henry, just a name. Any name." Again, he waited for me to say something, but I only continued to stare blankly back at him trying to control my growing anger. "It doesn't even have to be someone you like or even know. Just give me a name."

I could tell Beetlesmith was slowly becoming annoyed with my obstinance and comically began making suggestions as if he were trying to help the process along. "How about that Cope fellow? You don't seem to like him."

I refused to say anything.

"Okay, not Cope. What about that big tits Jackie? I know Karen isn't very fond of her although you've had your fun with her." He ended his statement with a wink.

I still refused to say anything while trying to ignore his last, insufferably bad joke.

"I'm sure there are others of your acquaintance you don't like. Just name one. Anyone, and your obligation to us will be fulfilled."

As I continued imitating a deaf mute, I could feel the tension in the room becoming more and more palpable to the point where one could almost taste the anxiety in the air. I got a little pleasure out of knowing the anxiety was mostly coming from Beetlesmith, as small beads of sweat were forming along his brow.

By the looks they gave me, Karen and Gloria were as equally baffled with my obstinance as Beetlesmith, though they kept their feelings to themselves.

Beetlesmith noted my quick glance at them and reminded me of the consequences of my actions. "Yes, it must be done for their sakes. Why don't you think of it as sparing them from a fate worse than death..."

"More threats. Why don't you shove your threats and your next suggestion back up your fat ass where they belong."

"More insults," he sneered mocking me, "This thing is going to get done, and closing your eyes to it won't make your decision go away. Why don't you pick a name so that we can move on and go our separate ways."

"Move on. Separate ways. More bullshit and lies. I'm not going to pick a name because I'm tired of you saying one thing and then demanding another. Because I'm tired of having the rug pulled out from under me just when I think I'm getting past all this shit you brought into my life. Because you're Lucy with the football and I'm always Charlie Brown, and I'm sick to death of it. And I'm not going to be culpable in ending some poor slob's life. So, choose your own victim, asshole! I refuse!"

Beetlesmith's face had turned a ten wonderful shades of purple and crimson, and his voice was laced with barely subdued hatred and malice as he continued his threats, "Very well, Mr. Henry. You're unwisely forcing our hand. So let us provide you with a little extra inducement to help you with your decision."

Immediately, the floor between us and the front of the shop fell away, revealing a steep staircase that descended into a red glow. Within a few moments more, heavy footfalls of something slowly ascending the staircase could be heard. When its massive head breached the opening, becoming visible to all, what little hope I still possessed in fixing the situation evaporated. It was one of the guardians of Hell, and as hideous and dreadful as I had seen in my vision so long ago.

Karen screamed bloody murder as Gloria fainted dead away.

"I believe you two have met," Beetlesmith said with a chuckle and then proceeded, nonchalantly, "Game, set and match, Mr. Henry. Choose a sacrifice or suffer the consequences."

I screamed, "Consequences of what?! I can't die you stupid..."

"No, you won't die... Yet! But that doesn't apply to your women, and if you think it does, then you are a fool. All their protection becomes null and void when they are of no use to us. They are being kept alive for one thing and one thing only, to give us sons. You are here to pick a sacrifice and end the ritual. If you do not, then they are of no use to us. You will watch in agony as your friend, here, rips your women to pieces and paints the walls of my shop with their blood. And then, after a long life of deep and bitter contemplation about what you caused today, you will die, alone and in horror."

Beetlesmith must have noticed the look of defeat on my face and uncharacteristically softened his tone as he continued, "I know it must be difficult for a sensitive man like yourself to decide which innocent lives and which dies, and done for reasons you don't understand. So, I will make it easier for you."

From his coat pocket he produced his client list. He held it out for me while saying, "Over a hundred names to choose from. All deviant assholes who have corrupted themselves and the innocent by unwittingly dispensing my elixir. They are already destined for Hell, so what difference does it make if you send one of them to their final destination a bit sooner than their appointed time? That should be easier on your conscience. Just pick a name from the list, Mr. Henry, any name."

That was a mistake. A terrible mistake by Beetlesmith. I wasn't sure at first why, just that I felt it deep within me he had made a grave blunder. Don't ask me how I knew, I just did. I knew that at this moment, all of the universe was in the balance, teetering on the edge of the precipice of doom, and would slide one way or the other, into the dark or into the light, forever, depending on how I answered.

I didn't say anything for a long time trying to understand why it was an error. Seconds ticked away becoming minutes, and the silence in the room was near suffocating.

Beetlesmith stood staring at me, impatiently tapping his foot and growing more agitated with each passing second as he held the list out for me to take.

Even Karen was alarmed by my sudden stillness, and said, "Will, what's wrong?"

Beetlesmith refused to wait any longer, and forced the issue, "Times up, Mr. Henry. You must choose or face the consequences."

Then it hit me. The list. The names on the list

I couldn't believe my ears, and my luck. Hope unlooked for had found me, either by chance or by purpose, I didn't care, but it had found me. For the first time in a long time, I felt a calming peace descend on me as a salve for my battered soul, because I now held the weapon in my hand that could save the world, and all I needed to do was pick one insignificant name.

"How do I know you'll live up to your bargain? I need assurances from Asmodeus that you will hold up your end and let us go after I choose a name."

"Be assured that I speak for the Master, Mr. Henry."

"Then you are his proxy."

"Always. Now choose a sacrifice!"

Yes, Beetlesmith made a tremendous blunder and didn't know it, and it took all my effort not to reveal my elation as I took the list from him.

It didn't take long to find it, as it was the last name entered onto his silly, self-serving list. Holding the page up so that he could see, I pointed a bold finger at the name, and said, "I choose him!"

It's hard to describe Beetlesmith's reaction, except to say he metaphorically dissolved before my eyes. He began to tremble out of fear and rage at what I was proposing. Not less than three times he tried to say something threatening, ominous and foreboding and meant to get me to rethink my decision, only to stammer like a witless imbecile with Tourette's.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," I goated, "Why don't you pull that fat head of your out of your fat ass first and then try to speak."

"We've had enough of your insults and your obstinate nonsense Mr. Henry. We aren't playing games..."

"What 'nonsense,' you fat fuck? 'Pick a name from the list. Any name.' Those were your exact words, you decrepit moron. I didn't make the rules, you did. And so, if you need a sacrifice then I choose myself!"

"Will! What are you doing?!" Karen screamed in horror as she guessed what I was doing and the inevitable consequences, "Please don't do this."

I ignored Karen for the moment and smiled at Beetlesmith.

"Quite a dilemma for you," I said to him, "Choose between completing the ritual with the sacrifice, or keep the order of the universe intact by preserving the duality. In this instance I don't think you can have both."

"You are testing our patience in the extreme, Mr. Henery, and we are not a forgiving race. Choose someone other than yourself."

"And if I don't, what are you going to threaten me with, death? Damnation? I'm already destined for both. Kind of ironic, isn't it, your usual tools of persuasion are no longer helpful in this instance. And don't try and threaten me with my women. You need them far more than you need me as we both know they carry the children."

Beetlesmith didn't bother to answer but instead signaled to the guardian with a subtle nod of his head.

As quick as a rattlesnake's strike, the guardian's tail slashed at me and opened a four-inch gash along the left side of my face. Blood immediately poured from the wound and fell as heavy globules onto the floor.

The initial pain from the strike was bad enough as I collapsed to my knees, but the pain that followed was far worse, as I felt the left side of my face burst into flame and intensify.

Reflexively, I clamped my hand over the wound, but my action neither lessened the flow of blood nor diminished the burning agony. Everything around me became dim to my sight as all my senses focused on the scorching pain that throbbed across my head and down into my upper torso. I collapsed, prostrate on the floor, screaming at the top of my lungs. And as the seconds passed, I could feel the skin curling back on my face, and the flesh crisping and dropping away until only the charred bones of my skull remained.

I couldn't say how long the pain lasted, but just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, it lessened a little at a time until it ended, leaving me gasping for air and grasping for comfort against the cool floor.

I took a moment and felt around my face. Although the oozing, bloody gash remained, at least the rest of my face was intact.

Seeing the abject terror plastered across my face, Beetlesmith chuckled ruthlessly while he spoke, "You're finally realizing the full extent of the forces aligned against you, Mr. Henry. Let me assure you, that was but a drop in the ocean of pain that awaits you if you don't do as commanded."

From somewhere deep inside me, a strength of defiance welled up as I got back on my knees, and said through the remnants of throbbing pain, "Fuck you! Kill me or leave us go. I still refuse to choose a sacrifice for your demented rituals, and nothing you do will change my mind."

Beetlesmith shook his head in mild disbelief, "Stupid and obstinate to the end, eh Mr. Henry? Very well." Then speaking to the guardian, he ordered, "Remove his genitals. He won't be needing them anymore."

Just as I stiffened my back in preparation for the coming blow, a bright light engulfed the whole shop, bathing us all in warm radiance. So bright was the glow that I couldn't look at it directly for it hurt my eyes. Instead, I looked over at Beetlesmith and the creature. They were standing side by side, looking up at something that must be hovering above and a little behind me. They stayed that way for some time, motionless, as if listening to the bright apparition with rapped attention. Then, just as suddenly as the light had entered, the room went dim, leaving us shrouded in shadowy darkness once again.

Beetlesmith didn't say anything at first and just stood with slumped shoulders staring at me with piercing hatred in his eyes. Finally, he said to me weakly, as a man defeated, "It seems your choice will stand, Mr. Henry, but you have no idea what you have done to yourself. When you enter Hell, it will be as a pariah, a leper, disgraced and shunned by all, and a target for every vindictive being ever damned to exercise their wrath and hate upon. No being will be as tormented as you will be, and you will curse your God for ever breathing life into you."

"I have no doubt," I answered defiantly, "My only consolation is knowing you will be there, as well, standing alongside me and enjoying the same punishments, or worse."

Getting back on my feet, I went over to Karen.

"Is it over?" Karen asked, her voice temporarily filled with relief.

"For now," I answered.

Panick returned to her voice, "What do you mean, for now?"

"You and Gloria are safe."

"What about you?"

"You and Gloria are safe," was all I could say.

"Will, you can't..." was all she could say before tears filled her eyes as she collapsed to the floor with uncontrollable sobbing.

Kneeling beside her, I pleaded, "Don't. Please don't. I'm too tired and scared to argue with you, and I can't allow you to talk me out of it. Please... just..." The words wouldn't come out, so I blurted, "I need to do this thing..."

"Why?" she asked innocently through her tears.

"Because it's the only way I know how to make it right again."

Frustrated by what she perceived as my stupidity, she continued to argue, "How do know this will work. How can you be so sure?"

"I'm not..."

"Then don't throw your life away on this! There must be some other way."

Placing the palm of my hand on my chest, I answered, "Because I feel it in here. Because for the first time in a long time I have hope. I can't explain it any better than that."

Her lips quivered. She wanted to say something, anything, but she knew it wouldn't do any good. She came to realize my mind was made up. So, she just stared back at me, doe-eyed and silent, with tears flowing down her cheeks and her lips quivering in fear for me.

"I can't explain why I must do this thing. I only wish I could give you some comfort. Instead, I will ask you for one last favor. When I'm gone, every now and again I want you to read A Tale of Two Cities. You know the book?"

She was confused by the apparent frivolousness of my request, but she finally answered, "Yes, the one by Dickens. I've never read it"

"Start, and when you read about Sydney Carton, I want you to think of me. It may give you some understanding of why I do this thing. Will you do that?"

There was so much more I wanted to tell her, but all I could think of now was how lucky I was to have met her.

"I can't believe I married such a beauty," I said, finally. "Remember the first time we met?"

At first, it looked as though she didn't understand the question, and then she smiled through her tears, "It was at Mitzi's party."

"I don't even remember how I was invited. I was a friend of a friend I guess, because I really didn't know anyone there. I felt like such a fifth wheel. And as I was looking around trying to figure out a way to politely slip out, I spotted you from across the living room talking to a couple of fellows."

"Yes, I noticed you staring at me with those big, deep blue eyes and that puppy dog look on your face." She giggled a moment in reminiscence, and continued, "You had that goatee thing going. You were quite handsome for a lost puppy dog. Then you started walking toward me, your eyes never leaving mine. Remember? And everyone that was talking and milling about between us in the room seemed to just step away as you approached, giving you a clear path. Just like magic"

I just nodded my head and smiled.

"And when you got near me, you nonchalantly leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. It was so sweet."

"Christ, where did I find the gall to do something like that?"

She paused for a long moment, and as her tears flowed anew, she gently answered, "In my eyes."

Gathering up as much strength that I had left, I asked her one more favor, "Kiss me."

It was a sweet and gentle kiss. Just like our first. And even though my powers had disappeared, when our lips touched, I felt the current pass between us as it had in the past. Perhaps it was a final gift from the Bright Ones that allowed me to see a little bit into the future.

I see them, part-time lovers and full-time friends, playing on a park bench with two small boys. And they all live in peace, prosperous and happy. And in between play times and nap times, breakfast and dinner, Karen and Gloria tell stories about their father, a flawed man, who in the end gave his life for them. And through those stories I hold a sanctuary in their hearts and minds, and in the hearts and minds of our children for all time to come.

And then I see Karen and Gloria alone, gray and wrinkled, after their little birds have flown to build families of their own, both taking turns spooning the other, wrapping each in their arms as they fall into peaceful, dream-filled and blessed sleep. And I know that neither held the other more lovingly in their hearts as I was held in the hearts of both.

When I opened my eyes, she was lovingly staring up at me, her eyes wide and full of water. With her voice cracking from constrained emotion, she asked, "Will I ever see you again?"

I couldn't tell her the truth, and said, trying to comfort her, "Maybe. Maybe in your dreams."

I wished I could tell her more, but I had neither the strength nor the time. Kissing her one last time, I said instead as a goodbye, "I have always loved you, and I always will."

Without saying another word, I turned back to my antagonists.

Beetlesmith was already gone, and only the hulking creature impatiently remained to guide me down through the gates.

"I'm ready," I said to it.

Then following it down the stairs and into the bright red glow, I slipped from my mortal coil.