Mad Gods - Predatory Ethics: Book I (47 page)
Suddenly, the immediate danger from the Templars was
gone. The Freemasons, Russell and Caldwell, were speechless as Pike, still on
his knees, stared adoringly at Adam. In four steps, Adam was beside Kosta and
asked him if he needed anything.
“How bad is it?” the Darkness spoke. The sound was
that of a predator, low and guttural, an animal that should never speak.
“I’ll live. Believe me, I’ve suffered through worse.
We can’t stay here any longer; we’ve got to get out.” Kosta put his weight on
Adam and climbed to his feet. He gratefully leaned on him, though the Darkness
didn’t feel it at all. The longer it was there, the more comfortable Adam felt,
and with more than a little regret, he let it sink away. When it was gone, his
breath returned and his blood began to flow.
“That was the single most incredible spectacle I have
seen in my life!” Pike was ecstatic with adoration. Before, he had been
respectful, merely sensing Adam’s potential. With the transformation, he saw
the potential fulfilled. Even though Adam was himself again, Pike still saw the
Darkness, and always would.
Behind him, Russell and Caldwell salvaged their composure
enough to resume their mission. Russell picked up an uzi, leveling it at Adam.
“How dare you point a gun at our Lord?” Pike was
indignant, picking up his own fallen pistol and firing without further comment.
The two shots caught Russell, one in his side, just below his outstretched arm,
the second twisting his head sideward. In turn, he fell into the other Mason.
Caldwell had also picked up a pistol and would’ve shot Pike dead, if Russell
hadn’t spoiled it. Even so, he still mortally wounded Pike, who lasted long
enough to take Caldwell to hell with him.
As he fell to his knees, Pike grimly aimed and
emptied the rest of his magazine into the Mason. Five shots hit: the first high
in his chest, and as their force spun him around, they descended with Pike. The
next was below his ribs, followed by one in the middle of his back, and another
in his side, with the last one lodging just above his groin.
“Blood and souls for my lord Prince, blood and
souls,” Pike whispered with his last breath, leaving Kosta and Adam at last.
Every one of the enemy, over thirty in number, was dead. Adam carried Kosta
over to his chair, sat him in it and rushed to get something for his wounds. He
returned with kitchen towels, but Kosta directed him to a medical kit he had for
just such an occasion.
Adam left the room for an instant, and when he
returned, Kosta stood without help. His posture, even his expression was not
his own. He stood with an authority Adam didn’t recognize. The air had gone icy
and a mist, deeper and more pronounced than the Darkness, was all around. The
air was awash in colors of massacre; carnage and slaughter filled every one of
his senses.
The smile on Kosta’s face was pleasant, but a trifle
too pleasant. This new entity was nice, the way child molesters are nice to
children. If you ask any of them, they’ll say they
LOVE
children, but it is a selfish love, which exists only as long
as needs are met. As the creature talked, he confirmed Adam’s fears.
“My son, I finally see you and you’re more beautiful
than I imagined.” The Prince of Lies continued, stating that the required
ceremonies had been completed well before Pike arrived and that the final
words, needed to conjure Him, were spoken as Pike lay dying. Satan then
inhabited the only person left alive. The dead mercenaries satisfied the
sacrifices necessary for the conjuring.
In the ensuing minutes, He sincerely tried to show
His love, His devotion to His only son. He kept repeating how wounded He had
been when nobody could find Adam. He had moved hell on earth to be able to
finally be there, and they could be together, as it should’ve been from the
beginning.
“What have you done with Kosta?” Adam hoped that
Kosta could still come out of this alive. He thought of praying, but knew it
would be useless.
The devil who had Kosta hostage continued to talk
about His affection for His son, but Adam didn’t respond.
After minutes of promises, He answered
the question. “He is still here and I will make sure he is rewarded for his
actions.” Lucifer’s tone was bright and happy. He was not the nightmarish
goblin, so commonly portrayed. He looked around and shook his head in regret.
“None of this had to happen, you know.”
“It happens all the time, so why does it bother you
now?” Adam was surprised at the emotion and began to believe this could very
well be myth come to life: the real Satan.
“It still doesn’t make it right. These misguided
tribalists, Templars, Freemasons, Xians, Luciferians,” he snickered. “All they
need is leadership, Adam. They will never take responsibility of their actions
or their decisions. They need to be led.” He didn’t boast like the rest, and
Adam reluctantly accepted that He was his father.
“Is that what your Illuminati are doing? Leading and
providing distractions to keep them docile? Pitting one against the other in a
thesis antithesis? Keeping them so intent on manufactured enemies they don’t know
who their true enemies are?”
Impatient with the sermon, Satan answered, “Don’t you
see? Nobody wants to accept blame when things go wrong. Things always go wrong,
and that’s why they need us. They give us control so they can then blame us.
It’s not any more complicated than that. Stop with all this nonsense about the
collective will of humanity.” His tone had become condescending as he addressed
Adam. “Who are you to renounce the power they give us? We live to enjoy our
lives and continue doing what gives us pleasure. As you grow up, you’ll
discover what that is.” He paused briefly, allowing Adam a chance to interject,
but before he could, He added, “
They
give us absolute power to do what we want.”
“Our happiness and joy come from the misery of
others. What about the pain and the terror on which we feed?” This had been the
most agonizing question of Adam’s life. Why would someone do these appalling
things?
“Why should I care? Fair is a misconception between
specific people, not everyone. Priests and philosophers try to translate what
Gods say and always lose something in the translation”
“What should we believe when we aren’t the ideal they
worship? Do we follow predatory ethics?” Adam asked, straining to hold onto a
dawning understanding.
“You’re telling me about ethics? Look around your
life, Adam; all of this is your fault. You and Kosta caused this,” he stated,
sincere in his condemnation. “What Balzeer said was true; you can still lead as
you wish. If you take control, you can mould the Luciferians, the Illuminati,
everybody to be what you want. Why do you renounce this? If you had only done
as you were told, all of this would’ve never happened.”
“Do as I’m told? Fulfill St. John’s
Revelation
? This death around us would
be nothing; who are you kidding?” Adam exploded.
“Did this retard Greek drive you crazy?” He was now
belligerent and condescending. “They deserve what
Revelation
foretold. It will revert to the way it was before Jesus
changed original sin. Once again, we’ll have our way with the sinners. Look at
how they’ve squandered their earth, lives, even the sacrifice of their first
Messiah. Jesus died to save mankind from being born damned, from original sin.
After His sacrifice, all were born innocent, and each individual judged,
earning salvation or damnation in their lives.” As He continued, He pointed to
the horrors man wrought. “Let them be punished as they deserve, for abusing
their power and privilege.”
“Is this another last temptation? Like you tried at
Gethsemane? I’m not interested now, as I wasn’t then.”
“You believe the propaganda Kostadino sold you?” he
said in a low growl of exasperation. “You believe that you’re both Christ and
Antichrist?”
“It’s the truth!” At that instant, Adam renounced
what his Father tried to force on him, and because of it, Adam was both.
He told Him about past lives and the lessons learned
through each of them. Thermopylae taught that we fight and die for each other,
not ideals. At the arena, death is the last point in life and doesn’t stop
learning. Golgotha showed that, at best, God was an absentee parent. The battle
against the Byzantines revealed individual responsibility. Over the centuries,
all the lessons he learned culminated in knowing Natalie. They both vowed never
to lead, or be used, again.
“You go too far, boy.
You will do as you’re told and follow your destiny.” He
finished with a finality that would’ve terrified anybody else, and Adam
responded with an answer that would have done the same.
Adam told Him that He is just God on a bad day. A
schizophrenic God, grown mad with the power humanity gave Him. Adam continued
to insult Him with vicious, rude slurs, while Satan winced and glared at their
truth.
“No, I will not do as I am told,” Adam and the
Darkness answered. Adam reached down and picked up one of the Ritual Romana the
Templars left. “I’ll show you truth, Prince of Lies. I’ll show you hype and
propaganda. I
am
both Christ and Antichrist.”
Adam started the Ritual, and at the end of the first
verse, picked up vials of holy water, dropped by the good knights, and doused
Him at every indicated instance. “I’ll be the tower of strength for him, in the
face of the enemy.”
Satan screamed in pain and horror. There was a
bottomless anguish in his voice. “How could you do this to your own father?”
“Let my powerful strength force the serpent to let go
of your servant so that it no longer possess him,” Adam retorted, before
laughing out loud and pausing at His pathetic attempt for mercy. “I’m the son
of Satan. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
The pun infuriated Satan and He tried to lunge at
Adam with His will. Though Adam felt the malevolence try to throw him against a
far wall, he doused Him with more holy water and restarted the ritual.
“Go, Satan! Inventor and master of all falsehood!
Enemy of human salvation! Fear and take flight when my holy and terrible name
is invoked!”
He continued to scream, bellow and moan in misery.
Each time he named Jesus in the Ritual,
Adam inserted his name, adding salt to His wounds. In between verses, Satan
continued to appeal for mercy, but Adam continued, regardless of His pleas for
familial loyalty. “I hear you. Humiliate this enemy of the church.”
Adam was almost finished and Satan knew that He would
be forced to leave Kosta as soon as Adam was done. Before the end, He roared
His final threat. “I will take him with me. Renounce your actions and do as
you’re told and I’ll allow him to live. Your precious Paleologos can either
live the rest of his life with you, or eternity with me.”
Adam never hesitated, but continued. He knew Kosta made
his decision when he took
Revelation’s
Antichrist to grant Him choice. The many lives he had read in the
Idammah-Gan Codex
showed dissatisfaction with the power given the Messiah, given humanity’s
blame.
Adam wanted to scream, “It’s everyone’s fault; nobody
is innocent. Everybody grow up! We no longer believe powerful men control the
weather or strong women have dominion over fucking and crops. We don’t need
white-haired geriatrics and horned, cloven foot throwbacks to clash with each
other, leaving us in the middle of their fight. We are responsible for our own
actions, both individually and collectively. There is only one golden rule: Do
onto others as you would have them do onto you.”
The final words were almost out Adam’s lips when
Satan departed with a curse. “Adam, you will live out your life here, knowing I
will delight in hurting your precious Kosta.”
Adam set his jaw to the curse and promised eternal
misery, and screamed the final blessing of exorcism. The holy water released
both a roar of agony and his Biblical father. Adam rushed to Kosta and held him
close as he watched the last of him go.
Kosta used his last breath to tell Adam not to feel
bad. He had chosen the road that led to that moment. He also told Adam where to
find instructions and how to continue. The answers to his questions were in
Alexandria.
Watching Kosta leave, Adam cried, just as he had when
Kosta first asked him his name. This time, he knew the tears flowed and were
welcome. When they ran out, he remembered more of Kosta’s words. The dead have
no problems; death was only terrible for the living. Crying was for those still
alive.
TIME: JUNE 15TH, 1972. TEMPLAR CHAPTER HOUSE, NEW YORK,
U.S.A.
Father Martin finally found his friend and companion
of the past decade, imprisoned. He spent months combing through Templar chapter
houses throughout the world, finally finding him in the same one where he
started his search.
Martin went to Grand Master Hapsburg and requested to
know why Father Quentin was imprisoned. The Grand Master said Father Quentin
was unstable and too militant in his conduct. He had jeopardized their order
and the mother church through rash actions and foolhardy tactics. With or
without Papal sanctions, Seneschal Quentin was still a Templar and Grand Master
Hapsburg was still his Grand Master. He would be released when he showed a
proper respect for the required manner in which a Templar should conduct
himself. In the meantime, he would be unavailable.