Part One of Book Two
Book Two:
Worse Than the Devil
"Do not speak evil of one another, brothers. Whoever speaks evil of his brother or judges him dishonors the Law and judges the Law. And if you judge the Law, you are no longer the one who keeps the Law, but the one who makes yourself its judge. There is one lawgiver and judge: he who has the power to save and to destroy. And who are you to judge your neighbor?"
The Epistle of St. James III:10-IV:13
1
The night over the city promised to be exceptionally quiet. No one wanted to talk about the strange events on Kamienna Street. Only a day had passed, but it seemed like an eternity. William the "seasoned" office at this hour became exceptionally dark and stuffy. It brought to mind old dungeons, filled with the cries of imprisoned convicts. The commissioner sat behind his desk, his gaze strangely calm. Everything was supposed to go according to his plan. Soft light from the streetlamps filtered into the room through the windows. A small lamp stood on a wide wooden desk. Its flickering light set mysterious shadows in motion on the walls. Across from William sat a terrified Tom McGuier. His last day had been hell for him. The nightmare began when he went to the hospital. They were already waiting for him… the police and this strange, probably mentally ill man who was currently eyeing him as if he were stuffed with gold.
"I don't understand any of this, you've been keeping me all day for some reason…" Tom said nervously.
"You're accused of murdering six people, Mr. McGuier.
" "What?" Tom was surprised. He felt the room shrink and his heart grow enormous. He couldn't breathe. He sweated. "You have no evidence, you have nothing." "
You're wrong," Pain said, still smiling. "We have your fingerprints from the crime scenes, witness statements, and most importantly… we have your confession… signed by you and stamped by me."
"I can't believe it... I didn't sign anything, you pig, you stupid..."
"Shut your mouth, you piece of trash!" the commissioner yelled. "In a moment, the guards will come and take you to jail, where you'll await the verdict of the district court in Victoria." The commissioner's face was covered with an expression of joy. A smile widened the deep wrinkles. A long-awaited grand exit in the spotlight. He could already imagine the headlines, with the city authorities thanking him for catching this maniac, this... degenerate.
"
The Moonlight Café on the Normandy Avenue was a cozy little restaurant open late into the night. Its cozy and warm atmosphere meant the place was always full of people. Sipping exquisite teas and coffees, they gazed at each other, conversing, and time ceased to be a limitation, no longer existing as a dimension, but rather as something momentarily irrelevant. The place seemed to be filled with a void. Greenish light streaming from the ceiling majestically filled the empty spaces of the peaceful room. In the corner, at the last bluish booth, sat Michael, the commissioner's faithful servant and an exemplary constable, and Nadia, one of the most charming policewomen in the city. "
I'm glad you agreed to come," he began shyly, sipping the sentence with sweet tea as if it would stick in his throat and choke him for the rest of the night.
"It's a small thing, after all, we've known each other for a long time, and you know you can count on me.
" "And your husband didn't mind?"
"Paolo?" Well, he's at the office today. He's behind on his work and wants to get everything done today because he's meeting up with his buddies tomorrow at a karaoke bar... you know, "The Green Door" or something like that. "
Okay, then. It's a delicate matter, and I needed to consult someone and perhaps ask for help."
"Feel free to..." She smiled, and suddenly the world seemed so simple, so safe. Shrouded in an air of mystery and Nadia's sweet smile, he began to speak in a halting, slightly shaky, hushed voice.
"It's William... I think he's gone crazy. He wants to frame an innocent person for the murders. He faked prints, intimidated and bribed several witnesses, or rather criminals, who owed him favors.
" "Yes, but that doesn't prove anything..." She interrupted him.
"He injected him with a stupefying drug and made him sign a confession." He spoke, growing increasingly agitated. "You have to help me stop him, Nadia. I don't know what to do."
"Calm down, we'll figure something out... I even have a plan, but... Nothing's certain yet. I won't tell you anything. I'll look for my friends and... you know what?" She sighed. "Let's meet back here in two days around 10:00 PM. By the way, this inspector is a real jerk, and I'm sure he won't be laughing when this case comes to light." "Thanks," Michael said, taking another sip of sweet tea with a hint of wild fruit. The taste might have been very pleasant, if not for that strange ,
metallic feeling of fear stirring somewhere in the constable's subconscious.
The end of the night promised to be a pleasant one. The gentle coolness was soothing to her moisture-starved skin. A pleasant, mystical mist hung over the dark, lifeless streets. In less than two hours, dawn would greet this large city, bathing its nooks and crannies in a golden glow. Ula was returning from work. Ula, exhausted, longed to snuggle into a soft, warm blanket and allow herself to be carried away by Morpheus's arms. The journey passed rather peacefully, apart from giving a wide berth to a homeless man who looked rather large and dangerous for 4 a.m. Entering the staircase, Ula turned on the light and, with a brisk yet weary gait, climbed toward the upper apartments with the enthusiasm of the greatest mountaineers. Urszula was twenty-seven years old and from Poland. She had come to Victoria two years ago in search of a different, perhaps better, life. She found work in a bar as a waitress, and that's how it has remained ever since. When she was on the second floor, the lights suddenly went out.
"Damn it, something always breaks..." she whispered nervously.
He interrupted his monologue as she realized she heard the sound of someone climbing the stairs. The footsteps were gentle and even; it had to be a young woman. Ula wondered which of her neighbors had taken a stroll in the middle of the night. She reached her door in the dark and, finding the keyhole with difficulty, opened it. The house was dark. It smelled of oranges, and Ula immediately felt comfortable. She wanted to turn on the light, but the plugs were blown throughout the house. She decided to light a candle and wash away the burden of the day before retiring to a blissful and longed-for rest. The red candle cast an intricate, wavering light. Various shapes appeared on the white walls. Flowers, books, birds—Ula watched with amusement. Suddenly, she was shocked and almost dropped the candle on the carpet. For a moment, she saw the shadow of a tall, long-haired woman on the wall. And yet, she herself was standing behind the candle… With strange feelings, she entered the bathroom. There, waves of shivers shook her body, and a scream tore from her chest. In the girl's bathtub was a snake, a rather large and beautiful python. It writhed slowly, staring with dead eyes at the pristine void before it. It was very quiet, as if waiting for prey…
The girl closed the bathroom door, blocked it with a chair, and ran to the room. Shaking, she sat down on the bed. At the same moment that fear had gripped the girl's throat, a mysterious shadow flitted across the room, disappearing on the opposite side. Ula stood up and, like lightning, rushed to the door, just to escape. Halfway there, something tugged at her hair. The girl fell. Getting up, she saw the silhouette she had seen on the wall slowly approaching her. Shivers shook her frightened body, and her eyes began to sting as if someone had sprinkled sand on them.
"And Hell shoved wingless worms into my mouth, begging for vengeance, my eyes blazing." A beautiful female voice spoke.
Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and clearly distinguished the slender form of the strange woman.
"Please... don't hurt me," the terrified girl gasped.
"The flowers of fear it sows within you demand blood." After these words, the woman lunged at her victim, her hands outstretched. Out of the corner of her eye, Ula saw snakes writhing at the feet of the dark figure. Naamah's hands grabbed the girl by the head. The victim tried to defend herself, kicking and punching her attacker, but each time she encountered soft, slimy, reptilian flesh, as if the woman were dressed in snakes and vipers. The monster's hands slowly brought the girl's face closer to the rough white wall of the hallway. Suddenly, Ula's skin touched the concrete, cold as a coffin, and then there was only pain. The girl's face was literally being crushed and pushed into the unevenness of the wall. More torn pieces of flesh began to fall from her cheek. Her screams, like a madman, struck the furniture and circled, seeking an outlet to escape towards the rising sun. Suddenly, the scream was joined by a scraping sound… it was the cheekbones, already touching the wall, gradually crumbling and crushing. The victim was still alive, while her half-crushed face continued to bore into the stone walls. Blood dripped in all directions, flooding the apartment with cold calm. After a few moments, the girl stopped moving, but the attacker continued the disgusting massacre of her body.
The sun slowly crept into Ula's sad apartment. His golden eyes were met with a sight so horrific and unimaginably disgusting that he decided to cover himself with the first approaching cloud and was afraid to look out at the world for the rest of the day.
4
Haziel woke up late in the afternoon in All Saints Hospital. He felt ill, his arms and legs ached. He tried to relive the entire fight and that terrifyingly long and painful fall in his mind. The bright lights hurt his eyes, which was quite unusual for him.
"Hello Haziel," he heard a friendly voice say. He turned his head from the window and saw the dim, crouched figure of a constable.
"Who are you… and how do you know my name?"
"My name is Michael, and I'm here to help you."
"What? What do you mean? Help with what?"
"Your friend Tom McGuier is here... and... he... told me about you and about... the... war..."
The angel's eyes darkened, turning his face into a deep, dark, bottomless pit.
"And what next, if you want to help me? Why do you believe all this is true?" "
I do," the boy replied, deadly serious. "I saw one of you—the warriors of heaven. As a child, I met an angel... or rather, he met me and... saved my life. I know it's stupid, but I have to help you; I want to repay you."
"Tom needs to be freed, he's innocent..."
"I know," Michael said, and told the angel about the commander's actions, about the drugs, about how he'd sneaked into Tom's cell to interrogate him. About how Tom had revealed his secret and begged him to find Haziel and help him if necessary.
"And here you are... you have a good heart, I don't sense any evil or fear in it."
"We have to move, Pain will definitely know I found you and will be after us. I'll get you out of here for now, then I'll find you a safe motel and leave you some money, okay?
" "Yes... thank you... You know, Tom risked a lot trusting you. How did you convince him?"
"I helped my luck and used the truth serum. Don't be afraid, I'm on your side," the constable replied. It was already evening when the angel had his own hotel room. Michael went to his place to collect the most necessary things, documents, and evidence against the commissioner.
"I'll take them," he said, "and come here, then we'll figure out how to save your friend."
The hotel room was very cozy. The walls were a light green, blending gently with the paintings and dark carpet. Suddenly, the phone rang on the bedside table. The angel picked it up without thinking.
"It's me, Michael. I have information from the hospital. There was a guy in a black suit there. He introduced himself as Selin and asked about you." A moment of silence, then the voice came back on the phone. "After he left, three people were burned. He's looking for you, Haziel, be careful.
" "Thanks, I'll sense him as soon as he gets closer.
"
"It's a great loss, Gabriel, for the entire host," Cassiel said. His voice was filled with fear. The loss of the warriors of light, the loss of an archangel, betrayal within the ranks of the servants of Heaven.
"Yes, blackness fills my heart, Cassiel. I have information from the messenger." He says he's wounded after his fight with Mumaiach. Fortunately, he's recovering quickly, and tomorrow he'll return to searching for the opening point of the Black Gate. "
There's not much time left. The gate must be opened during the first solar eclipse since the serpent woman's creation. "
"What worries me most is the lack of information about Ariel and that terrible traitor—no one knows where they are or if they're still alive."
"Yes. A cunning worm. May the glory he hopes to achieve alongside the black rider pierce his false heart through and through."
"Uriel is gathering his troops in the golden fields, hoping they can locate the black gate before he unleashes legions of monsters. The earth faces destruction and he doesn't realize it, but soon all the cities will tremble to their foundations… it won't be without loss." "
Forgive my audacity, but I sense our young messenger has become entangled in something earthly. This does not bode well."
-Yes, - Gabriel replied. -But I won't interfere with it, I trust Ariel's choices.
They were on the slopes of green moors, slowly making their way along the pools to watch Uriel's army being prepared.
"Do you think Haziel needs help?" Cassiel asked after a long silence. "
I think so, and I also think he's already received it. He's a good boy, I'm sure the people will help him, otherwise..."
"Yes, if they don't help the only person who can find Naamah, it's over for them.
" "Difficult times are coming, Cassiel. Dark clouds are gathering over this land. They'll eat us like a piece of meat..."
The
commander's office was filled with a woman's excited voice. He was telling William about some strange event, rising as he approached the heart of the matter.
"So, commander." Nadia's smile filled her face. "I propose a little blackmail. You give me money... a lot of money, and I'll let you send an innocent man to prison. Do you accept?
" "Michael told you." That wretched scoundrel… I'll kill him, strangle him, and tear that carrion apart.
"Will you answer me? I don't have much time.
" "You…" Pain roared. He leaped from his chair and ran to the seated Nadia. He yanked her from her chair, picked her up, and threw her against the wall. "You're in the mood for blackmail, aren't you? You know what we do to swine like you…" Furious as a wild beast, he grabbed a chair and struck the fallen girl with it. A silent scream escaped Nadia's chest. With the last of his strength, she stood up and ran to the door. She tried to open it, but at that moment she felt something hard hit her back. She fell. Suddenly, the phone rang. The commandant turned around and for a moment, ignored the woman. The moment was enough for Nadia to lift the bust of the balding president from the cabinet and drop it on the boss's enormous head. She opened the door and ran out, shaking. William slowly rose from the floor and howled.
Another
night was approaching inexorably, and in its tentacles writhed a nightmare that was about to unfold on the streets of Victoria. The demon woman decided to begin her reign with a small display of carnage and the persuasive power she had accumulated over the years as she lay in flames. The Green Door Bar was a very popular place, and every evening it was filled with people enjoying themselves. However, the owner valued morality and did not want to corrupt the youth with alcohol and the antics of sometimes reckless adults. Therefore, in his opinion, the best course of action was to station a portly security guard at the entrance to ensure the legal age of those entering the establishment. Some considered this a gross exaggeration and foolishness, while others respected the owner for his decision.
"Show me your ID, young lady," the thug said to a beautiful girl who was clearly trying to sneak into the Green Door illegally. She was dressed in a black leather dress that reached her ankles. The slick black material clung tightly to the girl's pale skin.
"Let me in, please... I promise I won't do anything stupid," she said, taking a step closer to the bodyguard. She placed her silver-ringed hands around his neck and meowed in his ear with her pitch-black lips. Her scent wafted through the air and, like a tornado, shattered the man's thoughts.
"Very well, come in, and perhaps later..."
"Of course, whenever you like," she replied, kissing his hand, bowing low as if mocking him. "Thank you."
The girl disappeared through the door. There was no turning back now to free herself from the nightmare. Night loomed like a tomb over the city, waiting...waiting.
Damian felt fulfilled as a security guard. It was a well-paid and relatively safe job considering the conditions. Standing at the entrance, savoring the scent of the humid sky, he suddenly felt a pain in his hand and a strange buzzing in his head. He raised his hand and noticed a red mark where the beautiful young woman had kissed him. Something began to pulse rhythmically under his skin. Fear washed over Damian's face like a fishing boat on the open, foaming sea. The pain was increasing. Something was moving beneath his hand, something repulsive. Full of conflicting emotions, he felt the spot and gritted his teeth. Suddenly, his hand was covered in a network of cracks. A hole appeared in his aching hand. The surprised and shocked security guard saw wriggling white worms amidst the flesh and blood. Exactly the kind his father used for bait when they went fishing together. The crawling little creatures grew in number, swarming like an enemy army, gnawing at one sensitive tissue after another. Only now did the boy realize how terribly painful his hand was, being eaten alive. Suddenly, he felt the tolling of bells and a terrible humming in his head. Voices, a multitude of voices. The world became colorful. Every passerby became a monster from some disgusting fairy tale. Houses seemed to collapse and night turned to day. The spinning earth beneath his feet gave him no peace. It seemed everything wanted to kill him. Sky, earth, air—everything was against him. He looked at his hand again; the sinister vermin still writhed and moved in its slippery tendons. Damian took the knife from his belt and put it to his hand. He put the sleeve of his sweatshirt in his mouth. The first pull was just below the elbow. The tears on his face stung like fire. The knife, staring at the distinct teeth, slowly sank into the layers of muscle. Pain struck the boy like a train, crushing his consciousness. The chills and temperature changes were as insignificant as the suffering itself. Slowly, the blade sank into the white, slippery bones. Blood flew like startled birds and dripped onto the street. Loud music drifted from the Green Door. Or maybe this wasn't his bar at all, maybe in a fit of madness, he'd run into some strange, abandoned neighborhood where stray cats were just waiting for someone to turn into a piece of rotten meat. Bang… the worm-ridden arm fell from his body and landed on the sidewalk. Pain and tears… tears and pain. His head swelled as if it were about to explode. Suddenly, Damian tripped over the curb and fell, hitting his temple on the cold concrete. Hell welcomed Naamah's next victim with open arms
.
The Green Door looked much nicer from Wednesday than it did from the outside. Various paintings and other decorative accents hung on the reddish walls. Tables were arranged rather haphazardly around the attractive wooden stage where the performances took place. As usual, many people came to karaoke: loners, friends, families, work buddies, and even traitors. Among the people having fun, amidst the joyful singing, one person stood out quite significantly. A young girl who looked as if she'd just been pulled from the grave or recently returned from a gothic party. The young woman carefully observed the people, peering into their mysterious souls. And upon seeing her, the people chuckled quietly.
"Look at that girl," said Paolo, Nadia's husband.
"Yeah... I wonder if she's still alive." At these words, the entire table of work buddies burst into laughter.
"I don't know, but I have to tell my wife not to dress like that," Paolo sneered.
"Nadia's a policewoman," another friend from work said, "she doesn't need to dress up." More peals of laughter flew towards the stage. Suddenly, the host's voice interrupted all conversation.
"We invite another participant to sing along to old, beloved hits. Before you, Mrs..." The black-haired man looked at his notebook. "Naamah?" Quiet peals of laughter could be heard in the hall.
"We invite you to the stage," the delighted host continued.
A beautiful young woman stepped onto the podium. Her black eyes surveyed the surroundings. The gentle creaking of her leather dress seemed to bore into the ears of the audience.
"Hello, tonight I wish, with all my lifeless body and soul, to sing you a song from my country... in my native language. It will be a song about my... and your destiny. And although you won't understand the words, part of your mind will commit these incomprehensible verses to memory and reproduce them as best as a translator can. Before I begin... I'd like to say... - Suddenly her eyes changed color, became red and shiny like two blood-red diamonds. "... I am the darkness of this world, and you will listen to me when, like these withered flowers, I crush your miserable souls. Today is the day when I will show my anger..." - Silence answered her, everyone sat like a stone, their eyes and hearts fixed on the black woman. - This is a sign. When at night your souls turn into wild beasts, and for this one moment of darkness you will murder, like these hellish creatures, and your damnation will reach the deepest depths. Suddenly Naamah began to sing, and this voice would enslave lifeless boulders and melt giant glaciers in its intoxication and wonder.
9
The phone caught Michael off guard. Hastily searching for all the documents and evidence, he completely lost track of time and place. He walked over to the telephone standing in the small kitchen and, with a slight nervousness in his voice, asked
, "Yes?" I'm listening.
"Michael, it's me," Nadia's sobbing voice answered.
"Nadia? What happened, why are you crying?"
Now a broken, almost whining cry pierced the officer's ear through the receiver. "I told him... you understand everything, I told him I wanted to blackmail him and make money... how stupid I am... I'm sorry, Michael, I'm so sorry." Crying resumed the conversation with Michael's silent mask.
"How could you..." the man shouted. "I trusted you. You were the only person I truly trusted."
"I'm sorry... I know nothing will justify me anymore, but be careful, he's coming to you... he's definitely coming, he's evil, evil as Satan himself." Crying followed the sound of the phone being hung up.
Left to his thoughts, Michael held the phone like a statue and stared at the dark clouds outside the window.
The sudden slam of the door brought him back to reality. Fear rose in his throat like molten lead. He knew perfectly well who had entered his house. Alone with the madman. He grabbed his papers and reached for his gun. It was dark, but that didn't stop him from playing hunter and hunted. In the moment of utter danger that descended upon him, he wished he had a back door. In such a situation, the only option left was the window. He walked to the kitchen door and silently closed it. He returned to the window to open it and froze; the dark, mad figure of William Pain stood right next to the glass. The commandant, with maximum speed, befitting a madman, aimed his pistol and pulled the trigger. The sound of first slicing air, then shattering glass, and ripping skin and muscles. The constable smoothly slid to the kitchen floor. At the moment of the shot, his life, like a speeding train, flashed before his mind's eye. The train's blue windows reflected three-year-old Michael, eating his favorite tomato sandwiches. The next windows depicted six-year-old Michael, learning to ride a bike. On the next smooth surface, Michael appeared, covered in blood, falling from a cliff, and beside him a winged, luminous figure supporting him and allowing him to land calmly. His last thought turned to angels. The smell of
gasoline filled the house. Then the rustle of matches and embers, the powerful heat of the burning house and the body of a policeman.
That night, the city couldn't sleep properly. A wave of murderers swept through the area like a dark angel from Moses' parables. The residents, steeped in unconsciousness, were unaware that dozens of degenerates had been unleashed from their mental chains. The Green Door Bar was deserted, and its patrons, like living corpses, crawled into the void to wreak havoc. This night was for them, and nothing would prevent them from savoring the warm taste of red blood. The police couldn't keep up with the reports. More victims fell under the blows of dozens of blades. The announcement of Naamah's reign had begun. A few more days until the eclipse. The world would die and be born anew, condemned by everything that had survived and died, everything that was and is not. The planet was in hell.
11
Nadia hung up the phone. She pulled her suitcase from the closet and began packing. She decided to escape for a while, cool down, and when she recovered, she would deal with that stinking bastard. She was most worried about her husband. Would he be able to understand his beloved wife's sudden departure? Nadia decided to write him a note. She hoped that he would make Paolo take a leave of absence and join her. They could move to another city together, for a while, or… Her thoughts were interrupted by her husband's appearance.
"What… what are you doing here so early?" She wondered. "Didn't the evening go well? It's good that you're here, we need to talk… I'm in trouble."
"Where are you going?" Paolo said. His voice was muffled. As if he weren't standing in front of her, but behind some invisible wall.
"I just want to explain… there's no time," she said. She walked up to him. She reached out and put her arms around his neck. He was cold. She felt the chill on her hands, as if she'd put them in a freezer. She hugged him tighter. Paolo stood like a statue, his thoughts locked in a dirty cage, waiting. In the lit room, time ticked away.
"Are you damned, Nadia?" he suddenly spoke in his cold voice.
At the sound of those words, the woman recoiled from the cold tomb she'd been clutching.
"What are you talking about? What do you mean? Listen, something terrible has happened, we have to leave... just for a while." She tried to drown out the strangely rising thoughts of fear. Her husband stood before her like a statue, his arms folded behind him as if holding a surprise.
"Nadia... time to die." With that, he pulled out a large steel knife from behind his back. And quickly grabbed the girl standing next to him.
"Nooooo," she screamed, "what's wrong with you, idiot?" In a burst of courage, she kicked him in the stomach and pushed him onto the couch. She ran toward the exit. She had a large apartment, so to get to the exit she had to pass three rooms and a long hallway. After a moment, she reached the long-awaited door. Behind the walls, she heard Paolo's howling. Fear flooded her heart like a damned night. She pulled the handle. Nothing. The door was locked with the lower lock. The wood was delicate, but the security locks made it impossible to force it open. Without a key, she was trapped here. Terrified, she ran into the bathroom. Bathed in the golden glow of fluorescent lights, she saw her pale face in the mirror above the sink. Silent tears streamed down her dry face. Thud, thud, something slammed against the door.
"Go away... please," she screamed through her tears.
"Thud, thud..." Suddenly the door opened...
"Honey, say goodbye to me," he said, smiling madly, someone who just hours ago would have given his life for his beloved wife.
Nadia, with trembling hands, pulled a pair of scissors from the container and raised them high, wanting to show her opponent that she wasn't afraid.
"Please, leave me alone."
Paolo lunged at her with a cry of hatred. The scissors sank into his stomach, but nothing happened as she had expected. No pain, no change in his vengeful face. Apart from a slight look of surprise, nothing changed at all. The monster's blow proved much more powerful. The knife ripped into the girl's windpipe and, passing through her thin neck, emerged from the other side. The blood-dripping blade protruded from the nape of her neck, mockingly glaring at the streaks of blood on the tiled walls. Suddenly, the knife came to life. Or rather, someone decided to rip it from Nadia's ripped throat. The hellish beast seized the murder weapon. The sound of the blows will echo through the dark chambers of the large apartment for a long time.
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