The Deal (21 page)

A huge arrow. It was hard to
believe what I was seeing but it was definitely there. A
huge
arrow
buried under layers and layers of white emulsion.
The disappointment quickly came back though as I realized it was
pointing towards the
ward
exit.

Since I couldn’t see anything else in the room
that was noteworthy, I decided it was best to follow the arrow and
see where I ended up. As long as it wasn’t between the jaws of the
Grimoyle, anyway.

I headed back out into the hallway, noticing
that the winged demon had vanished. Probably sulking in a corner
somewhere because it couldn’t find what its master had sent it to
find, and so it would remain in the asylum for eternity if needs be
until the object of its desire was found.

I studied the damaged walls of the hallway as
I took one step at a time. My thinking was that if there was a huge
arrow in the ward then there had to be some other signs that would
point the way.

Every so many
steps
I would
angle myself both left and right, studying the walls, and I was
about to give up on finding anything when I suddenly spotted yet
another huge arrow. Again it had been buried under layers and
layers of paint but it was there.

I followed the direction it pointed in with my
gaze, and could see that I was supposed to take the next set of
stairs upwards into the attic area. As I got closer to the stairs I
noticed that a steel door had been fixed in place near the small
landing, barring any entrance.

Moving closer still I noticed that
the lock for the door was ridiculously
small
like it would
take the same size of
key
I had in my pocket. And it was that
thought that made the smile on my face brighten.

I glanced further down the hallway and I could
hear the Grimoyle grunting in a room far off. Most likely the
nurse’s quarters. I had no idea how long it would linger there
before making its way back towards where I was, so I knew was going
t have to move fast.

Gripping the small key in my fist, I charged
towards the door and quickly set about unlocking it. Even as I
slipped the key in and listened for the short creak of the lock
being snapped open, there was a part of me that couldn’t help
wonder why the demon hadn’t just ripped the door off and carried on
its search up into the loft area.

Even looking at the door and the surrounding
area, I could see no strange markings that would suggest there was
something sacred beyond that point that no man or demon was allowed
to lay eyes upon. Nothing except white walls with no
character.

I could hear the Grimoyle grunt and then the
pounding of its heavy feet as it headed back in my direction. Hands
shaking a little I quickly unlocked the steel door and was able to
step behind it just in time for the winged demon to come stomping
back into the hallway.

I could hear the heavy snorting as it tried to
sense me. I couldn’t understand why it wasn’t picking up on my
scent. Maybe my meeting with the angel Gabriel had done something
to my aura and made me undetectable to it. I highly doubted that
but it sounded good in my head.

I stood there with baited breath,
a fresh layer of sweat forming under my arms and on my forehead as
the massive creature loitered in the hallway.
Eventually,
it
gave out one more snort and then started back down the stairs
towards the first floor.

Sighing with relief I closed the door behind
me and carried on up into the loft.

Because of the large arched
windows, the asylums loft was brightly lit with daylight. I could
see that the area had mostly been used for storage with various
items of furniture and rails lined with clothes. Most of which
probably belonged to the patients as the checked in and
were
left behind when they checked back out again.

It wasn’t until I was a few more
feet
into
the room when I noticed the large circle drawn on
the floor. It looked like it had been made with red chalk, or maybe
even paint. Then again it could be worse and it could have been
laid out using real blood.

In the world that I knew existed
between hell and earth, that last thought was perfectly possible
and was most likely the answer. I noted the strange symbols drawn
in the same crimson red at each point of the circle. They were
crude drawings of
a
beast-like
creature,
attacking and then mating with a young woman.

Judging by the crude sketches I
guessed there had been some poor woman used as part of the ritual.
I felt certain the good doctors of the hospital
were
the main
culprits behind the sinister offering.

Tall burned candles stood on ornate holders
nearby, which suggested the ritual was carried out late at night
when most of the asylum’s occupants would either be sleeping or
sedated enough not to be able to care.

My disappointment was beginning to grow as I
glanced around and found that there wasn’t much else to see in the
loft area. That was until my gaze landed on a small hatch just
under the last of the large arched windows.

I could feel the palms of hand grow slick with
sweat as the disappointment gave way to anticipation. Was it
possible that the hidden room was actually just a small cupboard
space, tucked out of the way that in a place no one would have been
allowed to enter in the first place?

I figured that after everything I had seen in
the last few days since making my deal with Satan, that anything
was now possible. But I still moved with caution as I reached out
and opened the small doors.

Inside the darkened space was thin paper
binder like the kind used by doctors to keep their patients’
medical records in one place.

The anticipation grew as I reached out and
picked up the folder. In my mind and in my heart I just knew that
what was inside would enlighten my world and the way I viewed my
wife Lisa.

With shaking hands I peeled the
front cover back and was instantly greeted with a smiling, black
and white mugshot, of Lisa. She couldn’t have been any older than
sixteen when it was taken. As I studied the photograph I couldn’t
help but notice that her smile looked forced. It wasn’t the one I
had become accustomed to in our short time together. Her eyes too
looked wide but there was no sparkle. No glint that suggested the
best years of her life
whereupon
her.

Then again, I’m pretty sure she never thought
she would end up marrying a hitman. I don’t pretend to understand
much about women, but I felt certain that getting married to
someone in my profession was the last thing they looked for in a
happy life.

The following pages of the dossier went into
detail about her stay in the hospital. How they found it difficult
to manage her with medication which was also listed for the benefit
of any other doctor willing to treat her.

The prognosis was apparently paranoid
schizophrenia, but I just found that incredibly hard to believe. In
the five years we spent together, Lisa had shown no signs of manic
mood swings or anything else that suggested her brain wasn’t quite
wired the right way.

Another thought popped into my head at that
moment. Lisa was a kindergarten teacher when she was committed to
the asylum, as the legend goes anyway. Yet the photo they had of
her was from her teenage years. How was that possible?

How could they have a photograph of her much
younger than she was when she was committed?

The answer to that question lay in the last
page of the folder. Lisa’s attending physician happened to be
Mitchell Williams. It was the surname that finally gave it away. It
was her father.

I glanced from the dossier to the crimson
ritual circle near the centre of the room. It took a few seconds
before the thoughts finally connected with each other and I could
feel my heart swell with sorrow once I realized that my beautiful
wife had been damned the minute she was born into the world. And it
was all thanks to her father.

He was the ring leader of the small band of
worshippers in the asylum. He was the one who decided to offer his
own daughter to the dark lord, probably in return for some kind of
mystical or supernatural power that Satan had no inclination to
give him.

I could imagine the smile the dark lord must
have worn on his face as he was presented with the vibrant young
girl, although at that first meeting I could believe she was
probably terrified.

He had taken her. The reasons for his doing so
still remained unclear, although I as beginning to form a theory
that it was because he needed her in some way.

My mind flashed back to the image of the young
boy. The seventh in a class of six. He was the odd one out and now
as my mind lingered on his face, I could pick out the resemblance
between him and his father.

It was Satan’s son. The dots had connected.
Satan needed Lisa to be a mother and nanny to his only heir. His
son. She had been snatched away from me because he couldn’t be
bothered to take the time to look after his own.

The sorrow in my heart merged with the tears
that pricked my eyes. I stood there, the patient dossier hanging
limply in my hand, feeling like my world was slowly caving in on
its self and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop
it.

I threw the paper folder back to the cupboard
I had retrieved it from, its contents scattering over the floor and
Lisa’s smiling face staring up at me accusingly.

Why had I not seen all of this
earlier?

Was Gabriel right, was I the one destined to
bring hell back into order?

I sorrow and sadness was beginning
to be tainted with anger. Not just a brief spark of anger but it
was slowly bubbling within me, turning into a
rage
that would
soon need a vent. I had to keep my
cool,
though. Killing the
winged demon, as much fun as it would be, was still not a good
option. Not until I decided what I was going to do next.

‘
I’m sorry you had to find out
this way, Samuel,’ said Pertilius.

I didn’t even jump this time as the tall monk
from hell appeared behind me. I was half expecting him to show up
earlier and had been expecting him ever since.

‘
Well, your friend Gabriel paid me
a visit and shared his vision of the future,’ I said, turning to
face the big monk and staring into the emptiness of his
hood.

‘
Ah, that angel is so excitable,’
he said, and I was sure there was a smile growing within the
darkness of his hood.

‘
Do you believe that I am the one
who is destined to rule hell?’ I asked, secretly hoping he would
say no.

Pertilius shuffled a little, as if
his feet
were
sore, despite the fact that I couldn’t see his
feet thanks to the long black robe he wore. I admired the gold,
ornate design around the hood and the cuffs, identical in most ways
to the tattoos left on my body as reminders from the artefacts I
had managed to collect.

‘
I do believe that the throne is
rightfully yours. Both I and my brothers have been waiting a long
time for you to come back to us,’ he said.

There was a note of tension in the monks’
voice. It was like he was chronically aware that his master could
appear at any time and the whole fight to the death scenario could
get started a whole lot sooner than was planned.

‘
Is there a way I can get my wife
out of hell before I make a move for the throne?’ I asked, feeling
sure that there was still hope for her soul.

There was a brief silence as Pertilius thought
about my question. I was probably making him nervous but by that
point I simply didn’t care who got hurt anymore, and that included
myself.

I wanted Satan to pay for what he had put my
wife through and I was going to make sure that I got some sort of
revenge before he took my soul.

‘
Satan keeps all his deals in the
great library. Your wife, under the duress of her father, signed a
deal just like you. If you can get into the great library and
destroy the scroll that contains her sworn oath to Satan, then her
soul will be set free,’ he explained.

‘
You say set free, but there is no
mention of her going to heaven where she belongs.’

‘
Well, that’s the
thing,
Samuel. Because she has spent so long in Hell, her soul will
not
be
recognized
in Heaven by the angels or god
himself. She will have to wonder the plane between earth and hell
for the rest of eternity,’ said Pertilius.

I could feel my heart sink further
into my stomach. It had not been the answer I was hoping to hear,
even though a part of me already guessed that there wouldn’t be
a
clear-cut
solution.

The monk must have sensed my sadness as he
moved a little closer.