Archive of Our Own

Dear God, who knew they could be capable of such evil? This sleepy town, filled with children of PGR state farmers… I thought the biggest evils I’d find here were alcoholics and wife beaters. But here I am, in a valley of shadow and death – filled with satanic scum who flew right under my nose. At last, I hear the door opening. A woman, dressed in a well-tailored suit and leather gloves walks in. Her hair is tied in a ponytail, her chest covered, her neck adorned with a crucifix hanging off a silver chain. This must be sister Natalia. I expected her to be dressed like a nun, but I guess this works better. The scum would be wary around an obvious nun.
“Please, sit down.” - I tell her and motion towards the table.
She does as told, then proceeds to take an envelope out of her purse. It’s clearly sealed with the papal crest. The contents are just proof of her and her driver’s identity – photos, signatures and a letter from their organization verifying they’ve been sent here.
I slump my shoulders. Honestly, I hoped for all of this to be a long practical joke. Or a nightmare. But with every new piece of evidence I feel further and further from waking up.
“Fear not reverend Paweł – I have ten years of experience with excising the cancer of evil from this world. My driver Vadim has thirty.”
Wait, ten years? Her age in the documents is stated to be 26! What… is happening to this earth?
I can feel a sudden, inexplicable calmness taking over my mind. Sure, she might be very young. But they warned us in the seminary – the “Hands” rarely recruit people from normal walks of life.
“Paweł, please tell me all that you know about the situation.” - her voice calmly guides me toward the topic at hand. Yes, I need to face it.
I sigh and gather up the energy to move forward. This is going to be a long day.
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It all started with the Smiling Bear Culture Club. It gathered adults and youths alike, trying to give them something interesting to do in this post-soviet hellhole. Most just played cards, watched movies together or went hiking in the forest. Membership was somewhere around 40% of the population and mostly elders. Then, suddenly, its president died. It was a complicated affair. Apparently he got hit by a car. A car with our license plates. Yet no one was caught. How? Everyone knows everyone here. Surely some neighbor must have seen their neighbor drive a bloody, beat up car. But there were no witnesses who could properly describe the car. Most witnesses describing the situation itself were drunk anyway, so the police didn’t listen to a word they said.
Still, life goes on and the club and its building were inherited by his son. Well, the position of the president wasn’t literally ‘inherited’ but no one would dare vote for someone else. Janek seemed like a bright boy, willing to take on leadership after his father’s passing. He was barely twenty and yet he changed so much in just a year! The Smiling Bear Club became a Happy Frog Society and they provided much more to our town than before. Now we had a small theater group, a club for writers, painters, sculptors, a book discussion group, a bible study group and many many more. More people seemed to be smiling than before. Many people started their own businesses and were successful in them. Fortunes were rising, yet… some things didn’t seem exactly right. The membership of the Happy Frog jumped up to 90%. Almost the entire village was now going to their meetings. Even on Sundays, they skipped the weekly mass and went straight to the meeting of their own group. Now, I understand the person has the right to choose – even to choose something that ruins him. But I didn’t understand this choice. So many God-fearing poles, suddenly abandoning the church? In such a small, deeply religious town? Preposterous! They even disbanded their religion-related clubs due to ‘lack of interest’… I now felt like I was back to my big city parish – every tenth bench in the church taken, mostly by elderly people who were on the verge of dying. I prayed something would change. Until one day, a certain girl knocked on my door.
Nina was… never much of a small-town girl. Her hair was wild and colored, her chest almost bursting out of her blouse, her skirt always too short… and her manners not befitting that of a lady. I loathed teaching religion in her class. She could never behave and always asked provocative questions I couldn’t answer. She was a lost cause to me and I felt relieved when she went to study journalism in Warsaw. I thought I’d never see her again, until last summer. She came back and started doing a piece on the Frog Society. At first they were helpful to her. I’ve seen her photographing large groups, wearing green happy face masks as she laughed together with them. But later on she became grim. I’ve noticed her being on edge, sneaking around, questioning people in between shadowy streets of the old worker blocs.
Then, she came to me, with the photos.
Jesus Christ Our Savior, the photos! I could not believe the things I’ve seen in them! Men and women wearing green robes and frog masks. In the forest, in abandoned buildings, in the farm stables, in ponds and the lake… Every photo was a different unspeakable act.
But I have to describe them to you… I know.
Such evils made me doubt my faith.
First group of photos were taken deep in the forest, in some clearing I can’t recognize. Men and women took turns of… showing disrespect towards an effigy of a bear. A burlap sack sewn together to resemble a bear was kicked, beaten, spat and excreted upon. Once all were done, knives were stabbed into the bear, which produced dark red spots. Finally, the bear was tied to a wooden pole and set on fire.
Second group was in an abandoned building. A man was sitting on an armchair, covered only by a frog mask hiding his entire head. He held some kind of scepter in his right hand, and a vulgar faux-crucifix, featuring Baphometh hanging off the cross in his left. Completely naked women were lined up in front of him. They licked a white substance off his knees, which seemed to resemble whipped cream. Some photographs managed to zoom in on specific body parts of women like wrists or thighs. They showed signs of self harm. Some were also branded with occult-looking symbols. All of the women were local and underage.
I… would prefer not to describe the third group of photos. They were taken at night and blurry, but the men were clearly committing certain acts to the animals.
The fourth one was what made it obvious that we need something more than a simple police intervention here. A group of men were leading a woman out of a car. She was dressed like a typical… ‘working woman’ caught off the side of the highway. But she wasn’t consenting. They dragged her towards a man wearing a black hood over his head. He was holding a bundle of chains and electrical cords in his hands. He whipped the woman savagely, cutting deep into her skin, before tying her down with the heavy chains and throwing her body into the pond.
And then… at the Ropuchna lake… It’s so…
...I always believed in God.
But I hoped I’d never see the devil.
Yet here were his minions. In capes, robes and masks dancing and mingling together with… things. Things that came out of the lake. They came out of it after the men… ejaculated on that corpse.
Something black swarmed out of Ropuchna. Many, many black, eel-shaped shadows jumped out and ate the corpse. The camera had trouble keeping up with their speed. They kept changing and morphing with every photo. They sprouted limbs, heads, fins as well as other organs I could not name. And the shadowy frog creatures celebrated their birth together with the masked men. The masked killers.
I have no idea, who in the Frog Society is serving these demons. Who commits crimes and who’s only there for the fun book clubs.
Nina gave me some of their names. Janek is definitely involved. She told me in no uncertain terms that I am to contact the Right Hand Jesuits, if anything happened to her. I knew what she meant by that. I had no idea how she found out about your secretive Vatican order. But She was sure that the situation was dire enough for your involvement. I agree. Especially since well… she went missing.
They only found a single blood stained sweater.
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Sister Natalia is furrowing her brows, her shoulders raised. I can feel an unwomanly presence around her. It’s a presence of a hunter, stalking its prey, learning its secrets. I am not the prey, but if looks could kill, her eyes would slaughter everyone caught on the photographs laid out on the table. The more I stay in the same room as her, the more I’m filled with fear. Our seminary was secretive about how the “Hands” worked. We were only told there were two organizations by that name – the right and the left. Both working without each other’s knowledge and keeping one another in check. A person joining with them received the right to grant all sacraments, full absolution of sins both past and future and followed different oaths than that of a priest. They did not even need to stay celibate. They were a weapon of God.
“This one is a classic.” - she mutters
“Excuse me?”
“I went through a few cults like these.” - she says dispassionately “There is an inner and outer circle. Sometimes also a third circle for those who know absolutely nothing. But it’s safe to say that with this scale of an operation even the outer members have glanced at something that should have made them pause.”
“So how do we know who’s a sinner and who isn’t?”
She scoffs at my answer, her lips warping into a disgusting grin. Her eyes are open wide, gleaming with madness.
“Surely, You must be familiar with Arnaud Amalric? Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius. That’s how the Right Hand does business.”
I can feel the colors drain from my body. There is no mercy in the cold eyes of this woman. She is here to kill my entire parish. Letting God sort them out just like the Crusader she quoted.
But… I can feel she is hiding something. There is a certain sadness to her, masked by the supposed bloodlust of her words.
...and I’m not exactly in any position to argue. I called the Hands here, knowing they were the last resort. I have to see this decision through, without wavering. Such is my position.
I sigh deeply. May the lord forgive me for taking part in the slaughter of innocent and guilty alike.
“In two days, at Ropuchna lake. That’s one date Nina gave me, before her demise. There should be an initiation ceremony of sorts, where select members of the outer circle learn about the inner workings. They will be tasked with killing a person stuffed into that bear effigy from before.”
Natalia nods in approval.
“Fear not reverend. I promise to liberate your flock from this tyranny.”
She gets up to leave. Yet as she stands near the door, her shoulders slump as she shudders.
“...we will never see each other again.” - she says, loudly shutting the door behind her.
What did she mean by this?
Will this mission be that hard? Is she planning to sacrifice herself?
It was obviously a call for help. She can’t face this many men alone. Even taking into account her driver, Vadim. He’s probably also from the Hand. That makes it two. I wonder
Would a third person make any difference?
This night I had a dream. I knew it was a dream. But I could feel sensations so realistic that they fooled my mind to keep me in the dream’s grasp. I wasn’t the only one dreaming. There were many. I could feel their eyes. Their presences. Some men, some beast. They stared at me from behind the thorny bushes and twisted, dying trees. The night sky was filled with clouds and yet I could still see everything around me – or at least as much as the dream permitted me to. The air was cold and damp, clinging onto my skin and making me feel disgusted. Like having a layer of wet clothes stuck to my skin. And then, not unlike biblical Adam, I realized. I was naked. But this was not the garden of Eden I was in. It was a nightmarish, swampy forest. Suddenly, I heard a growl behind me. Turning around I found myself face to face with a warped creature. It was easiest to describe as a bear. But that’d mean ignoring the left side of its face. It was human. The entire skin was flayed off and pure muscles could be seen. All of its teeth were exposed to see, the human eye was bloated and bulging out, a human nose was protruding off the side and hanging down like a flaccid elephant snout.
Then it spoke.
“Run.”
It was the voice of the old president of the Smiling Bear Club.
And so I ran. Accompanied by the mad growls of the beast and the laughs and cackles of the audience. The beastly audience of humans and devils whose eyes shined in the dark laughed at my predicament, as well as my nakedness.
But soon I had nowhere to run. In front of me was a giant lake filled to the brim with black eel-like shadows in its waters.
The bear was right behind me. But before its paw could fall down on me, two figures jumped out the lake. Twin devils, wielding spears. Each of these devils had a human body, completely devoid of genitals. But their head was that of a fly, and wings of said insect adorned their backs. The flies danced around the bear as I stumbled and fell on the ground. I was at their mercy. If they ever stopped their dance, if their spears ever stopped jabbing away at the bear, I would be dead.
“Fear not Father.” - a voice spoke from behind me, from the lake.
“We live in the age of the Frog. The Bear cannot hurt us. We’re slaves to it no more!”
I slowly stand up and cautiously look behind me. The lake seems to have moved back significantly. Now I was facing Janek. He dressed in green robes and held a mask in his hand. It was ceramic, but painted gold. And of course, the idol the mask portrayed was
“The Frog.” - I say “What is it?”
He smiles a much wider smile than I’ve ever seen before. His cheeks are now fuller and rounder. His brows and eyes have also seemed to move upwards. A caricature of a happy man. A caricature of a happy frog.
“He is God. God of the new times.” - he answers and then snaps his fingers. Seemingly out of nowhere, a monstrous humanoid creature appears. Its wide, toad-like face observes me with disgust as it hands me a dry, green blanket to cover with. Surprised by the gesture I use it to cover and dry myself with as I listen to Janek’s mad speech.
“Have you ever wondered why the rich stay rich and the poor stay poor? Why does the omnipotent God allow suffering? Is he evil? Unable to act and not at all omnipotent? Maybe he’s a blind idiot, incapable of imagining the right use of his powers?” - Janek snickers, mocking my faith.
His question is worded with malice, but it isn’t a bad question to ask. The problem of evil often stumped Christian scholars. John Paul II said that the existence of evil drove people to strive for its contradiction – for love. Yet I feel this answer wouldn’t satisfy someone who can smile surrounded by this scenery.
“You see, simply put, we’ve made a choice. A bad one. To serve powers that won’t answer prayers for plenty. Only strike down those who ask to be rescued from pain.”
“God does not work like that!” - I scream out my answer almost instinctively.
“Khe-hehe, God?” - an inhuman, gargling cackle comes out of Janek’s throat.
His neck turns at impossible angles making his eyes level with mine.
“Your God is more broken than my Father’s shattered corpse.”
As I blink, his neck is suddenly back to normal. His back turned to me, he looks at the bear. The malformed creature screams and shouts in vaguely bear-like growls as it keeps swatting at and evading the insect knights.
“Before I was born, there was a certain system. A political school of thought if you will. It spoke of equal rights and opportunities for all. Promising food, shelter and safety to anyone who joined it as a comrade. As long as you renounced your previous Gods and Idols and only bowed down to the soviets. A foolish nation, those Russians – but at least they used to have some firepower behind their ideals. And do you know what animal we think of as symbolizing Russia?”
“The Bear.”
“Yes, the Bear. A pathetic, tattered idol of straw and rags. It bares its ugly teeth shouting ‘Fear me! Fear me!’. They still pretend they are a force that Poland and its allies should be cowering from. But with the fall of communism, its greatness has passed. The state-ran farms no longer employ the people of our town. A new system has come, but no one prayed to it here. They went back to an even older, more broken institution. Your Mother Church – a demented, two-faced whore whose God made itself into a triangle and couldn’t even keep its sides together.”
“What the fuck are you talking about!?”
“Money, my dear. Money. It talks. Every złoty you spend is a will put into the universe. Like magic, it shapes the world around you. I heard that there is a popular symbol going around the cities. A green smiling frog adorning thousands of shops. It gave me an idea. Every idol needs blood sacrifices. So many great civilizations were built upon them! The lake near our town has a toad in its name – just a step away from the frog of capitalism. So, I grabbed a thick-accented whore off the road and threw her in!”
I shudder. I knew Janek was in on this whole thing. But I never saw any signs of just how demented he was. Always pretending in class, always smiling on the street. But now I know what hides behind his smile.
“You’re insane…”
He just chuckles at my response.
“Oh but it worked. Dozens of tadpoles swam out to feast on the body as their Father gave me further instruction. If I were to serve Tsathoggua and become his little frogling, there were a few steps. Easy ones though – just rejecting other Gods together with my birther were enough to join the family.”
Birther? Does he really not care about his biological father so much, he’s just a birther to him? Is this the demonic corruption? Or was he always, truly a monster?
“So many truths and skills were gained by just going a bit faster on the road one day.”
Anger gathers within me. I cannot stand this evil. But I also know I am powerless to stop it. I am naked and afraid – only covered by a measly blanket gifted by the mercy of a dark creature.
Janek walks right up to me, looking down on my helpless form. He now smiles with an open mouth. His teeth are still human… yet there are more of them than there should be. His tongue unfurls and reaches down to the level of my lips. It is thick, heavy and covered in a slimy mucus impossible to produce by any human organs.
“How about it?” - his voice now seems to invade my thoughts themselves, surrounding me from every side. “Will you renounce the bird, the zombie, and the sky daddy? Or will you stay a sheep forever?”
“I-”
Before I could answer, I felt a heavy impact to my stomach.
My vision shifted as I jumped up. I was in my bed. The air was cold yet my entire body felt on the verge of immolation. I practically tore the clothes off my back, wishing to get rid of this heat as I jumped into a cold shower.
...I am weak. Despite knowing how evil Janek was, I almost joined him. Out of fear. My own doubts about God weren’t helping. The problem of Evil got even harder to answer with the cursed reality surrounding us. A young man willing to kill his father and many other people just to ‘make our town better’. Pagan blood sacrifices to ancient toad demons, a Vatican order shrouded in secrecy – who knows how much more I’m not seeing.
As I head back to bed cooled off, I try to look for the source of the impact I felt.
“This is-”
There, on my bed lies a bible. I keep one bible on a tall shelf next to my bed. It isn’t impossible for it to have wound up falling down and hitting me. But it feels like something more. Like a sign.
The book is opened on a seemingly random page. I turn on the light and read it.
It’s The Testament of John. Chapter six. The Jews disbelieve in Jesus being their savior. They question his divine heritage. At this point, I can understand them. A carpenter claiming to be a God without even felling the Romans who oppress them wouldn’t be a God that they wished for.
Yet at my doubts, the book seems to answer. I scream out, almost dropping it, as blood seeps out from the ink of two specific verses.
Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. (...)
Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood remains in Me, and I in him.
I could feel a Will behind this sign. It wasn’t an evil will, like Janek’s. But I couldn’t fully comprehend it. Yet as horrifying as it was, I knew the Will didn’t mean me harm. It wished for my safety. It guided my actions toward the Tabernacle. The flesh and blood were there. I poured the wine into the ritual replica of The Grail. In my right hand I grabbed the communion wafer. The church was dead silent. Yet His Will was here with me. I made the usual motions of the sacrament, but this time wordlessly. With no one watching. It felt different, like I was reaching for the God beyond God. As I held the wafer before my eyes, the moonlight seeped through the windows, illuminating it.
I would have been horrified at the sight, if it wasn’t exactly what I expected. It became meat. Pulsating, veiny, yet still crisp to the touch. The flesh melted on my tongue as its powers infused me. A strong iron smell came from the cup. I gulped it down in one go, knowing far too well what it just changed into.
I invited his Will within me.
Now, it was time for Him to guide my choices.
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.
.
My new apostle wasn’t perfect. None of them were. I knew all of his sins. Yet they were nothing compared to my Father’s. He put his faith and trust in me, despite clearly realizing the truth of my imperfect nature. My Will is filled with human emotions. I could understand and rescue almost any Man… but that meant being unable to save my Father from his own failures. I feel like there was once a perfect Jeshua, and a perfect JHWH. But that past might have never even been connected to this artificial universe.
I can’t keep moping around. I am not perfect, but more than enough to defeat a Primordial God. The ugly toad-bat of Agartha - Tsathoggua. Fear of the dark caves and beasts within personified. I cannot make too much of a ruckus disrupting this cult though. Too much visible action, will make for a severely painful reaction. If the wrong kinds of people start talking about My “return”, they will lead billions on the path of death and despair.
I did some warm up exercises to check this body’s fitness. It’s slightly out of shape – can’t expect much running and climbing. Has no experience swinging weapons. The soul wasn’t activated. Can’t take on the frog demons alone even if I were to fully enhance Paweł. The exorcists from the “Hands” won’t refuse my help, even if both of them follow The Spirit. Spirit and I might not be united any more, but are not enemies. I understand his anger towards Father but I wish he abandoned his plans of putting me on the throne of heaven. A house divided against itself cannot stand – the trinity must be united again. Maybe this little cooperation will show him that it can be done.
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.
.
I spent the rest of the free day on preparations. Meditation, reinforcing the apostle’s body and soul, even managed to talk one of his parishioners into lending us a weapon – a cavalry sabre. A perfect world wouldn’t require the son of God to kill people using hands of a small-town priest. But this world is cursed by the sins of its Creator. I take full responsibility for his failings. There is an argument to be made that Gods are not perfect. That we’d take action against the suffering of this world if we were. Guess I’ll show Janek an answer to the problem of evil.
He is the evil, and cutting off his head is the answer.
I easily find the two exorcists skulking around the forest. They’ve spent the day camping out near the lake, preparing for the coming ritual. The Spirit was kind enough to guide me to them, though it seems he did not warn them of my arrival. I am welcomed by a shotgun barrel being thrust in my face. The apostle’s body puts its hands up on reflex. I’m pretty sure The Spirit would stop their fingers from pulling the trigger. But if he didn’t, reviving a very fresh apostle from a headshot wound would be a pain.
The one holding the gun appears to be Vadim. An ex Russian mobster, haunted by memories of troglodytic creatures who murdered his family. The Jesuits helped him avenge them, but as much as he tries to fill the void left by their loss with God, it still hurts him to this day. Knowledge of people’s secrets is something I try not to leave my apostles with, but Vadim’s story is an open book to me. His cold, uncaring expression, his sad, wounded eyes – he is a man who gave up searching for hope and happiness in this life. I can’t help but peer into those people, to see how I could have saved them. Maybe by learning that I can become closer to the Ideal Christ who exists beyond these pages.
I summon Stigmata upon Paweł’s hands.
“Peace onto you.” - I say through the mouth of my Apostle
The gun lowers immediately. Yet Vadim’s expression is unchanged. Only Natalia seems happy to see that God is with them.
“I- uh… Peace onto You, Lord.” - she says while shaking and smiling awkwardly.
“Two will not be enough to storm the house of the devil. Three is the number of God.”
Words that leave through ‘my’ lips are not exactly how I wanted to convey them. My mind isn’t compatible with human tongues.
“Three WAS. Now one is killer.” - Vadim responds in broken polish. I understand his resentment. The creatures haunting his memories were born from my Father’s anger. But we can’t stay angry at him forever.
“Let us not speak of Him. I have a plan. Lend me your ear. Now hear and listen.”
I clear my throat. It’s best to convey this strategy in a more unusual way. Human tongues get in the way of true understanding.
Fire spills from my tongue and flies over the heads of two exorcists. The beasts of Tsathoggua are clever, but not clever enough to know New Djinnic.
The sound is the word and the word is the light. The light which becomes vision shared among all of the same flame. The most complex philosophical idea can be conveyed with a single vibration of air. My vision of the coming fight is quickly reviewed and approved by the fighters. This will not be an easy battle, but not a single innocent will have to die. The people being initiated into the inner circle are not yet beyond redemption. The demons of the lake cannot crawl out to the surface as long as I’m here. But that still leaves us
with Janek and a hundred of his men. Vadim shows his eagerness. I disapprove. Vadim insists. Do not. Finally, he backs down, yet I can feel he is still searching. This would be a good place for him, yes. But he should still try and seek for his own happiness.
We managed to agree on all points while hiding the specifics from potential observers. After all, they do not like to be spoiled do they? Probably don’t like being preached to either, but I’m afraid some will find my mere existence in this tale to be preachy.
I unsheathe my sabre. Tugging at the celestial thread linking my soul with the Apostle’s body I fill it with the needed energies for the coming battle.
It’s time to solve the problem of evil. With fire and sword.
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The Frog cult has gathered on the lake. One van and two cars brought sacrificial women, while the rest of the members came on foot. They do not know yet that it’s the last day of their Frog Society. Vadim is stationed to my left, Natalia on my right. They still hide deep within foliage. I step forward, announcing my arrival to the cult.
“Jaaaaneeeeeeeekk!!!” - I shout, feigning madness.
If he was actually trained in magic, he would notice my divine aura. But he’s blind. And foolish.
“Well well! Hoping to join us for the feast? I’m afraid we don’t have any altar boys for you Father.”
The arrogant idiot steps out of the crowd, with a massive group of people following. They grip various weapons – chains, whips, riding crops, baseball bats, knives, hatchets. Janek holds a long pole, with a decorative, yet still sharp spearpoint fastened onto it. It would be a good choice of weapon if he had proper magical training, and knew who he was up against.
If.
The crowd of cultists is slowly spreading around and forming a circle. All of their attention is focused on me. I can spot a few clueless faces among them. They are the ones we’ll be getting rid of.
“You came alone? With just a sword? Are you seriously deluded enough to think you can stop our System from conquering your God?”
I’m now completely surrounded. The men are not trying to attack me yet. They will soon. But let’s stall for a bit longer.
“You never spoke for any system other than your own greed and lust!”
“Awww, you break my heart. Isn’t what you call greed just ambition though? Your God makes shepherds into kings. I did the same, but with people left without jobs and living in a shithole.”
True. David rose to become king and his descendants built great cities out of deserts. They also weren’t perfect men. But they didn’t kill Ukrainian prostitutes as sacrifices to a mad Primordial.
Speaking of which I’m surprised they haven’t noticed by now.
“Uh boss?” - a voice reaches from the crowd.
Janek’s face sours, losing its usual creepy smile.
“What do you want?”
“Where are the whores?”
At this question, color drains from faces of several cultists while the initiates look even more puzzled than they were before.
Now I’m the one smiling. I can see Janek tense up. He’ll now try casting the first stone.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!” - His face filled with rage, he swings his spear at me.
Lowering myself just slightly I escape the blow.
“Now!” - I shout out loud to my comrades.
The guards stationed with the sacrificial girls are dead by Vadim and Natalia’s hands. The doors weren’t even locked and the prostitutes were merely tied, not cuffed. They’ve already fled, replaced with charges of C4.
Three fiery blasts rumble through the surroundings. Some men fall, some flee, some are looking for their attackers. A feeling of danger fills the air, poisoning the minds of initiates. They join prostitutes in their flight. Now the only people left are those willing to die by the sword.
“LEAVE THE BASTARD TO ME!” - Janek shouts in his arrogance. An ugly symbol crawls out onto his fist. A cluster of purple veins forming a pentacle. The sign of his unholy pact with the Primordial.
His spear keeps swinging at me as I lead him to the location of my advantage. I can sense Vadim unloading his shotgun and fighting in a way that’s both merciless and reckless. Personally, I would spare those who are already crawling around and begging for mercy. He however, is not satisfied with taking away their kneecaps. But such close combat isn’t without cost. He’s already bleeding from a deep cut on his face and several more shallow wounds. I hope he does not plan on abandoning his life here. But I respect any choice he makes. He has defeated much more evil through his life as an exorcist than he caused as a mobster. To my right, shots are less frequent, yet precise. One by one, men are falling to the ground while chasing a woman. Even in a life or death situation, the cultists wallow in depravity and sin. I can feel their thoughts. Their desire for rape. Natalia knows more about lustful thoughts of men than any woman should ever experience. Hers was a life of forced servitude. But she was liberated. Now, she fears no man. No matter their strength, they are never stronger than her faith and the barrel of a gun.
I can have Janek all to myself, right in front of this cursed lake.
He changes his stance, preparing to thrust.
“I don’t know what kinds of tricks you are doing, but you’ve got nowhere to escape now.” - he says, finally noticing the demons of the lake refuse to come to his aid.
“Do I now?” - I smile, spreading out my arms “Then come at me, Child.”
His eyes filled with fury, Janek runs straight at me, his spear pointed in my direction.
Just as planned.
At the last moment, I hop backwards onto the lake. A human would sink. But all mages of the first century could perform this particular miracle of mine.
As soon as I step on it, water turns solid, yet not ice. Just a minor tweak of the freezing temperature is all that’s needed to make the whole surface of the lake as solid as concrete.
Janek loses his footing and tumbles a bit. He takes a step back, afraid to advance. He’s observing me, with more scrutiny than before. He grins as if he figured something out.
“Oh, so you’re posessed aren’t you?”
“A good guess. But an incorrect one.”
Posession would imply Paweł wasn’t willing to stake his life and his eternal ghost on this fight. He followed the steps willingly.
“Pathetic.” - he scoffs “So you got a guardian angel, what’s the big deal?” - he says, power gathering into soles of his shoes. “I have some of those too!”
Once again advancing, he steps onto the lake. Now we are both on equal ground. Two apostles of Gods, light and dark, exchanging blows on a frozen lake. I can feel Paweł’s will shining through. He has faith in my victory. It’s time for me to answer his prayer.
I take a slash at Janek. The wooden pole catches the blade of my sabre. The pole is enchanted to withstand some cuts. But with some work, it will break.
Janek knows this. He has already started hopping away. His movements are becoming more froglike and agile. His eyes bulge and his body bloats as he observes my movements. Then, without warning, he charges again, his feet accelerating far beyond what humans should be capable of. I jump away to dodge him. I can still keep up, even in this apostle’s body. But I have to end this soon if I am to win without leaving wounds on Paweł.
We are facing each other again, slowly walking in circles on the lake’s surface. Both of us filled with determination, we throw glares of killing intent before charging at the same time. Yet he does something surprising. His body morphs while running, becoming shorter and even more stocky. He is now the size of a dwarf. A very bloated dwarf with a perfect Innsmouth Look. His lips swollen like an algae eater. His eyes moving independently and growing an additional membrane. Cuts form upon his neck, at first squirting out blood but soon closing up and looking like gills. Even his hands have become webbed. Only one, temporary advantage comes to him from this permanent transformation. It made me miss my attack. The transformed cultist slides around me as I lose my footing. I soon feel an all too familiar pain.
Blood shoots out of my mouth. The weapon seems to have barely missed Paweł’s internal organs. But his vessel is already shooting out streams of two liquids out its side - blood and lymph.
I really hate spears.
The ugly toad grins at my pain. I went through worse. But Paweł didn’t. Not even a broken bone from childhood play. Even with my soul enhancing his abilities there is a limit to what a human can endure.
But I also know how to make them improve. I tense up the muscles around the wound as I rotate my body to face the beast. The sudden movement breaks off the wood impaled into Paweł’s body. Intense pain is making my vision dim. Signals of shock are flooding his brain, making him want to give up. But there is no need to give up. Now, the transformed cultist is left with no weapon, while the piece of wood he wounded me with is blocking the flow of blood. It is a painful fight, but nothing Paweł can’t handle, even if he thinks otherwise.
“Sorry about your body, Friend.” - I say out loud. Not to the toad, but to my apostle.
Left with just a broken piece of wood, the creature lunges at my throat, hoping its newly formed fish teeth are enough to be my demise.
Checkmate.
With one swift motion I slash at the exposed throat of the creature. The divine mana I put into the sabre activates. The old cavalry sabre now turned sharper than any gurkha knife in existence.
The head of the beast flies into the air, as two pieces of the carcass fall into the lake. Sinking deep below into the darkness.
At the same time I hear shouts of the battle ending.
Despite the distance I can hear the words whispered by Vadim.
‘Via Tecum’
The sacrament of letting the dead pass into the next world while holding the Eucharist in their mouth. United with my flesh in death, they are free of all sin and regret. But to Jesuits it has a more darker meaning. They are the words one speaks for their final sacrifice. In an instant, their bodies fill up with more mana than they could ever handle, initiating a massive, holy explosion.
Nothing remains of Vadim, nor the cultists who were surrounding him. Only I bear witness to his resolve.
May you rest in peace.
Natalia didn’t choose death however. She played cat and mouse with the corrupted men. Some managed to grab her. But they never held on for long. Her suit is filled with cuts and stained by mud. But she stands victorious over the corpses of cultists.
Holding my side I stumble toward her position. I can feel more blood and water gushing from the wound. Janek might not have been good at magic, but it seems his God noticed me. The Ugly Toad of Agartha put a curse on the spearpoint. It’s not exactly as painful as the Spear of Longinus, but I can still feel my connection weaken.
Natalia is smoking a cigarette while slumped over a tree. Her eyes widen in shock as she drops her cig and her rifle, rushing to me.
I fall into her arms. I can’t stay here much longer.
Take care Paweł. You have done a great job as an Apostle.
.
.
.
I wake up from a dream. It was filled with signs I am yet to understand. Of battles between Gods and men. Of evil deeds that are yet to be named. Yet through all of it, I stood firm together with many comrades.
A man is standing next to my hospital bed. A black man with extremely long hair and big muscles. His eyes and smile are filled with something I cannot understand. But I saw him in my dream. I know all his names. I know the meaning behind them. I know his past sins and current virtues.
The man grins widely, showing his white teeth.
“Come Brother in Christ. There is still much evil for us to kill.”