Attic Clowns: Volume Four (5 page)

I attempt to look outside. However, the window has been replaced by a gilded mirror with the carving of a torso with the arms and legs sawed off.

In the mirror, my face is concave, and there are dozens of fingers sprouting out of my hands. While admiring my pulchritudinous form, I glimpse a blur of movement behind me. I spin around and spot Geltharidge’s fedora-topped shadow on the wall. In a moment, the shadow disappears, and all that remains is blood. I would walk over and lick up the blood if not for the wave of exhaustion pounding against my flesh.

For now, I sit at the Archangel’s desk and wait for my power to return. Once sitting, I spot a wrinkled letter on the table, which I smooth out with my many fingers. Handwritten on the paper are the words “Wedding Invitation.” I am certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that this invitation is meant for me.

During the mandatory Gala of two thousand and seventy-six years ago, Geltharidge drank too much wine and she kissed me. She expressed to me that she was not at all serious about her relationship with Coronorth. She said that he expected too much, and gave far too little. She said she would never marry him.

It appears that she was lying.

Presently, a fire blazes behind my eyes, and the invitation in my hand bursts into flame. Within seconds, an inferno rages within the office, cremating the desk and the gilded mirror.

After the fire dies out, I am haunted by a powerful urge to undo the destruction I have caused. With my thoughts, I attempt to restore the damaged objects. However, I am not strong enough. There is no going back now.

As soon as my two and a half hours of rest is over, I sit at the edge of my cot and I realize that my hands are clenched into fists. In addition to this, my entire body is coated with sweat. I must have suffered yet another nightmare. As a rule, I remember my dreams in vivid details, and yet, as of late, I can only recall bits and pieces. I remember blood.

“Wake up, little one,” I say. “Today is the big day.”

Minutes later, I am standing on a fresh-cut lawn, facing a brick bungalow with white trim. Beside me, the imp sits on his horse. Once again, he has transformed himself into a grotesque clown, and he has willed his horse to metamorphose into a balloon animal. For now, this will have to do.

I glance at my pocket watch. “In exactly ten minutes, a man named Simon will enter this house and murder a man named Dorian. This event is unsanctioned, and therefore we have an opportunity to change the outcome for the better. Your mission is to show yourself to Simon and speak to him.”

“What Globcow say?”

“I cannot tell you what to say, but I can remind you that you were once a killer yourself. In all likelihood, you understand Simon’s mind better than any other angel in existence. This knowledge will certainly help you when you attempt to sway him. Do you understand?”

“Globcow think so.”

“Good. Now go inside and wait for Simon to arrive.”

The imp urges his horse forward a few feet before turning around. “You not come with me?”

“I am not permitted to join you in the abode while you take your test. But I will be here when you are finished. You will do wonderfully, little one. You will make a fine angel.”

My apprentice beams and enters the house.

Thirty minutes later, I float into the bungalow to check on the results of the test. What I discover is a mound of mangled corpses in the living room. The little clown dances atop the mound, juggling a set of severed feet. Simon, meanwhile, stands beside the mound, laughing and clapping. My intense bewilderment and shame causes my vision to blur and my face to burn.

“What have you done?” I say.

The clown turns to me, dropping the severed feet. “Simon only want to kill Dorian. But if Dorian die, Dorian’s family feel so sad. So Globcow convince Simon to kill Dorian and Dorian’s family. Now they all happy in paradise together, forever and forever.”

“Oh dear.”

Moments after we ascend to the Attics, the Everydoor bursts open and Geltharidge rushes inside.

“What the hell happened, Zab?” she says, blowing smoke in my face.

“It seems that my apprentice misunderstood the assignment and he made a mistake.”

“A mistake?” She lets out a hard, dry laugh. “We had a chance to stop one unsanctioned death, and we ended up with six butchered corpses.”

“I know what you must be thinking about my demon, but let me assure you that his heart was in the right place. He is a thoughtful and compassionate little creature. His failure at the field test was not his fault, but a direct result of my incompetence as an instructor.”

Geltharidge sighs. “I have a hard time believing that, but at this point, it doesn’t matter whose fault this is. The demon’s actions resulted in the slaying of six people. He’s just not angel material, Zab. I hate to do this after all the work you’ve put in, but we’re gonna have to deport him to his homeland. I don’t see any other option.”

“No, no!” The demon kneels in front of the Archangel. “You not send Globcow back please. Globcow work harder.”

Geltharidge does not even glance down at the demon. “Sorry, Zab. It is what it is.”

“Is there no room for discussion?” I say.

“Afraid not. I gotta go, Zab. Cases to crack.”

When she turns her back to me, I say, “For eons, I have served you, Madam. I have given you more than my all. I have given you my life. In all that time, I have never once asked you for a favor. But I ask for one now. Give Globcow one more chance. For me. Please.”

The Archangel stands in front of the Everydoor as rings of smoke rise like halos above her head. At last, she says, “Alright. One more chance. But I don’t want any more massacres on my hands, you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

That night, after closing my eyes, I find myself sitting on a throne of trembling corpses. Down below, Geltharidge’s miniscule body kneels upon the blackened earth, her hands pressed together as if in prayer. She speaks to me. However, her voice is much too small to be perceived by a creature of my stature. 

After she attempts to run, I reach out my gargantuan arm and grasp her. I release a hard, dry laugh at her futile attempts to wriggle free. Entombed beneath a hundred fingers the size of tree trunks, she will never escape.

She is mine.

As soon as my two and a half hours of rest is over, I sit at the edge of my cot with a plan buzzing like a swarm of wasps in my head. I realize that my hands are clenched into fists, and for the time being, I leave them as they are.

“Wake up, little one,” I say. “Today is a big day.”

After enlightening my ward with a five and a half hour lecture on the immorality of murder and dismemberment, I allow the demon thirty minutes of playtime so that I might prepare my office for Coronorth’s arrival. Since I have never attended a bachelor party, I am unsure as to what constitutes an appropriate backdrop. Ultimately, I remove the cots and bedeck my Attic with balloons and streamers. I will my window to grow to three times its regular size.

My underling rides up to me on his mustard-colored balloon animal. “Why you change everything?”

“We are throwing a party tonight.”

My minion’s grin widens. “Globcow like parties very much! Globcow good at party games. We play bite off chicken head game?”

“Not today, little one. But there is another game that I would like for us to play. If you are to play well, you will need to practice before the party begins. Can you do this for me?”

“Yes, yes!”

As my demon rehearses for the game in front of the mirror, I sit cross-legged on the floor, steeling myself for what must be done. For a time, a voice within my head bombards me with commands not to bring my plan to fruition. The force of this moral ballyhooing causes me to shudder and weep. After a number of hours, however, I succeed in transforming this once booming voice into an incomprehensible murmur. I am ready.

At last, the Everydoor swings open and Coronorth steps inside wearing the gaudiest of casual robes. He grasps my hand with his and says, “Thanks for doing this, Zabareth. I’m touched.”

“It is my pleasure,” I say.

The Archangel glances around my office. “Am I early? The invitation said eight, didn’t it?”

“You are right on time.”

“Where is everyone?”

“There is someone waiting for you right over there.” I point.

Coronorth turns to the darkened corner where I point, and from the darkness, a fedora-topped figure emerges. Her eyes are a little too large and her skin too white. However, the reproduction should be reminiscent enough of the original to deceive a halfwit like Coronorth.

“Geltharidge?” Coronorth says.

“I not love you,” the fedora-topped figure says, in a soft feminine voice. “I hate you, Coronorth.”

Coronorth reaches out a trembling hand to touch the female figure’s arm. He is most likely attempting to ascertain whether or not she is a manifestation. But she is no manifestation. She is very much alive.

He lowers his arm, and he looks at me, his face gnarled with an expression of defeat.

I smile.

Presently, I will the indestructible metal cube, which I designed this morning, to manifest around Coronorth. Thanks to this cube, I will never again be required see or hear this ignoramus. If we were currently located in Coronorth’s office, he could easy break free from an inescapable cage such as this, but in my reality, I make the rules.

I will my Attic window to open like a gaping maw. As soon as this task is complete, I am plagued by a powerful urge to set Coronorth free and undo what I have done. But there is no going back now.

The fedora-topped figure approaches me and transforms back into my underling. “Why you open window? You say opening window very dangerous.”

“Oh, it is,” I say, as the walls touching the open window bubble and contort. “It grieves me that I must put our lives in peril. However, there is no way for me to destroy this fool.”

The demon tilts his head to the side. “But angels never die.”

“We are roughly immortal, but only the Maker is wholly indestructible. As angels, we are not only forbidden from entering the Maker’s Womb, we cannot exist in that reality. If I send Coronorth into the darkness outside these walls, he will die.”

It is unclear to me why I am taking the time to explain the particulars of my plan to my minion. If I leave the window open much longer, the darkness will overtake my reality and annihilate us all. I must act now.

As the balloons near the window vibrate and deform, my vision blurs and my face heats up. If I go through with this murder, my superiors would surely find out, and who knows what fate would befall me.

No. I must remain strong. I cannot allow this fool to curse Geltharidge with an eternity of matrimonial misery. To put it lightly, Coronorth does not deserve her love. He is a self-indulgent imbecile who could not save a sparrow from a tomcat, without angels like me to perform his work for him. Geltharidge deserves to be entwined with someone with a healthy work ethic, someone who would sacrifice his own desires and creature comforts for her happiness.

I will the cube to drift toward the open window.

“Wait!” my minion says. “You not kill Archangel please. You not yourself. Globcow change you. Globcow make you bad.”

I pause the flight of the cube and turn to my underling. “What are you talking about?”

“Globcow tell you truth about everything. Remember when you go into Globcow’s mind?”

“Of course I remember.”

“When you go into Globcow’s mind, Globcow go into your mind. Globcow put chunk of Overdemon Grogotelk inside you.”

I let out a short, dry laugh. “That is quite impossible, little one. If anyone even attempted to breach my mental defenses, I would most certainly sense it.”

“Overdemon Glogotelk train Globcow every day for thousands and thousands of years. Globcow learn how to sneak into minds without making one itsy bitsy little sound. Globcow best brain sneaker in whole underworld.” The demon looks at me in the eyes. “You not kill Archangel please. Globcow not want you to be bad. Globcow want to be good with you. Please.”

It would be ludicrous to believe that a mere underling could infect my mind. And yet, I must be sure. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and focus the whole of my will on searching my psyche. Almost immediately, I discover within me the concave face of the Overdemon. How I did not notice this chthonic presence before this moment, I do not know. Perhaps I did not wish to know the truth. But that is impossible. Clearly, the Overdemon blinded me with his otherworldly powers, and that is why I did not perceive him.

Now that I am aware of the Overdemon’s presence, it is a simple enough task to remedy the situation. I annihilate him with a single thought.

After the chthonic presence dissipates from my soul, I open my eyes to the chaos around me. The section of my reality nearest to the window vibrates and swirls and burst with ecstatic green sparks.

I will the window closed.

With my thoughts, I restore the objects that have been damaged. Hopefully, no permanent damage has been done.

I set the indestructible cube onto the floor and will it to dematerialize.

“What is the meaning of this, Zabareth?” Coronorth says. “Why did you trap me in that box?”

“I…as I explained in the letter, pretending to trap you was a crucial element of the test.”   

The Archangel rubs his chin. “What test?”

“This entire scenario was meant to assess the morality of my apprentice. Did I not make this clear in my letter?”

“I never received any letter. All I got was an invitation to the bachelor party.”

“How strange! Next time, before conducting such a test, I will have to verify that you receive all the proper paperwork.”

“Yeah. Well, no harm done.” He glances around. “So there’s really no bachelor party tonight, huh?”

“I am hosting the real party for you next week.”

“Great!” The Archangel squeezes my shoulder. “So is this whole test thing over and done with?”

“It is.”

“Great.” The Archangel leaves, and the Everydoor closes behind him.

It would easy enough to blame my ward for betraying me and corrupting my psyche. But he was only following orders. He was sent here for the sole purpose of planting a seed of disharmony in the celestial realm, and I believe that a part of me always suspected as much. I knew his true purpose, and yet I allowed him to remain by my side, because I detected in him the potential for goodness. Instead of feeling any resentment toward the demon, I should feel proud that my guidance inspired him to deny his Overdemon and save me in the end.