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It was a few hours until midnight; I had spent those hours carefully preparing for my journey to the church. I feared being seen so I decided to wear my father’s old trench coat and as I tried it on I remembered my father saying on his death bed, “Allen, I have left a metal container under the bed, it’s for you take it when I’m gone.” Thus I carried on to his bedroom. As I entered memories of my father and his death flooded into me like a rapid into a basin. I tried so hard not to cry yet I could not help it only to remind me that I was truly alone in this world. I peered under the bed there it was after all this time it was there. I pulled out the box yet it was extremely heavy. The box was about as large as a large brief case and looked to have a faded silver finish with two flip locks attached to it. It wasn’t locked so it was easy to open the inside was cover by a small cloth and on the top was a note which read.

Dear, Allen

My son if you are reading this then I’m no longer here. In this container is a gift to protect you, though you may not know why or how, but let me explain. In my travels I have seen the power of demons physical and mental damage upon our world thus the reason I have left this to you. I made this during my younger years but I’m certain that they are durable. Though I have prayed to god that you may never need to use these, but it is only for precaution. I’m sorry that I was never there for you or your mother I hope that you will forgive me I know that you probably hate me for what I’ve done.

Esther Iscariot

p.s, the red one is Vesica and the white one is Crux.

As I finished reading the note I wonder what did he mean by saying Vesica and Crux. I lifted the cloth to reveal the heavy contents of the case. It held two large sized pistols. I mean I had seen pistols before but none this big one filled half of the case. They seemed to be made out of ebony steel yet one had a red handle and the other white the barrels were long and it seemed each had a large sized magazine. In the center between them was a large container of bullets. As I loaded the magazines I realized what my father meant though I did not care how he obtained this item I now had something that could help me I didn’t know how or why I only had a strong conviction of this.

I had finished my deed and placed the guns into the back pocket of the coat. Strangely as big as the guns were they were very light thus adding more questions to my already riddled mind. I checked the clock I only had two hours left until midnight. As I waited I arranged the series of questions that I wanted answered. The hour passed quickly, I then left the house and began my journey to the church and to my tragic destruction.

The night was silent and dead, the cold revealed my breath as I took my first breath of the outside world. The streets were dark and lonesome except for the few light poles that were still used. I was thankful it was so dark the night would allow me to conceal my form from any who might have been able to see my face and the stage I was in it had seemed my pain only worsened as I took step after step on my journey to the church. I took great care and effort to hide myself in the shadow of the night and the shadow of the buildings.

With every step my heart raced with adrenalin as I worried of someone seeing me. Yet it was with my fortune that I was not discovered. After some time I had finally reached the steps of the church. The church was of an old gothic architecture which amplified its air of gloom in the night. It was here when the town was nothing more than a small village of foreigners. It had large grand old oak doors with circular designs engraved upon its border and handle. I readied myself as I ascended the steps to the door. I grabbed the old wood handle and opened the door to the church and entered the gateway to hell.



The inside of the church was in a way a glorious and gloomy. The artistically checkered tile and the high arches of the church stretched as if the ceiling was heaven itself. The pews were empty only seen by the faint glow of the candles on the alter. Beyond the alter was the common statue of Jesus crucified on the cross with his crown of thorns. As I walked forward I could hear my every step as if it was the chains of my sins in which I forged in life that can now only rattle in this once hallow place.

I continued walking till I had reached the alter. I stopped to look around and to see if that man in which the messenger had told me to be. Yet as I looked around the church I could not find a single soul in this place. I sighed thinking that this was a waste of time when suddenly I heard a voice, “Ah, you have finally arrived I was wondering when you would get here.” That voice so distant and yet so far away like the demon. Yet it was not the cold steely voice of that beast no, it seemed familiar to me and yet I could not remember where. I looked to find the voice I looked everywhere until my eyes searched the pews finding a man in a dark coat like the previous man, with a red brimmed hat. His voice seemed young probably no older than me. “Well now that you’re here we can finally talk,” said the young man, “who are you?” I replied. “Me,” he answered, “I’m the one who damned you and sentenced you to your torment, I am your tormentor, your envoy of hatred, I my good friend you can call me by my diablo name, Granox, at your service,” he said with a bow.

I looked at his face when he rose from the pew there was something familiar about his face, yet I couldn’t figure where. He had a slim and chiseled face, his eyes were at fist red in the darkness, but in the light they were of a light blue. “Why did you ask me here Granox and why did you choose me, was it for your pleasure or is it something else,” I asked him. As he took off his hat revealing his short dirty blond hair he said, “First off, I guess you could call it a favor from the devil. I mean come on seeing me and you haven’t figure it out yet. Ha-ha-ha I guess those times with Natalia made you blind or did you just forget, I wonder.” “What are you talking about we never met since the cemetery, didn’t we,” I answered “are you serious,” he laughed and my blood boiled in anger of his comment, “ really don’t know do you, well I might tell you later, but I can’t allow you to live I mean the ritual isn’t finished yet you know.” How could this be I thought the cemetery was all there was to the ritual. “I’m afraid not Allen that was the beginning, but don’t worry it will be over very soon,” he said, can this man, no this demon read my mind?

As he finished speaking the ground below shock violently and the pews shook with tremendous force. The stained glass window shattered and the cold swept at me like a raging river. As the ground quieted I felt something I don’t know if it was what you would call a sixth sense, but I felt this great surge of dread and yet another part of me adrenaline. I looked to see what had happened the church was full of people wearing dark cloaks they held scythes daggers pitchforks, and other deadly weapons I reached to grab the pistols as they begun to charge toward me. “Now let the fun begin,” he shouted with a smug grin on his face.