Angel of the Apocalypse (6 page)

“
That's...actually
a convincing argument,” replied the interviewer.

“
Of
course it is! It's the reason why I'm here – to save humanity
from a mad God.”

“
What
can we do?”

“
Pledge
your allegiance to me, and together we will defeat the armies of
Heaven. We will overcome-” The Antichrist was interrupted by a
loud yell.

“
Now!”
shouted a man who was dressed in military fatigues. Machine gun fire
barked from nearly a dozen SWAT team soldiers. The Antichrist was
immediately riddled with dozens of bullets, including several ghastly
bullet wounds to his face.

“
Oh,
thank God!” cried the interviewer, as she ran into the arms of
the newsroom program director, sobbing.

Blinded
by the bright lights of the news cameras, the Antichrist did not see
the SWAT team sneak into the news room. After being riddled with
bullets, the Antichrist sat in his chair, unfazed. Blood was
streaming down his face, as the Antichrist calmly looked into the
news camera and said, “I understand that this might be a bit
much for you to take in all at once, so take a few days and think
about what I've said. Meanwhile, I need to take care of some personal
business.”

The
Antichrist got up from his chair, and started to walk out of the news
room.

“
Freeze,
motherfucker!” shouted the SWAT team captain.

The
Antichrist casually waved a hand in their direction, and the heads of
each SWAT team member just...fell off.

And
the interviewer screamed.

After
the interview, the Antichrist picked up his 'son', Isaac, at his
neighbor's house. He assured the neighbor that he was just fine,
please disregard all the blood. Besides, the bullet wounds had mostly
healed by now.

Isaac
looked into his Dad's amber cat-like eyes. “Uh, are you sure
you're OK, dad?”

“
Of
course I'm OK. Daddy was just playing cops and robbers with the nice
folks at the news station, see?” The Antichrist lifted up his
shirt, revealing lots of blood, but no bullet holes. “Just fake
blood, everything's fine. C'mon, let's go home. Daddy needs to get
cleaned up. We have a big day ahead of us!”

The
babysitter nervously waved goodbye, as the two got in their car and
drove home.

The
Antichrist took a shower and put on some clean clothes. He looked at
his pale reflection in the mirror. He was pleased by the fact that he
could finally look at himself in the mirror, even if it wasn't his
normal countenance. He then looked agitated. “Well, this won't
do.” he said, as he reached for his 'wife's' makeup. After
smearing a base and skin-tone foundation all over his face and neck,
he looked much more human. Hmm, better get some contacts later, to
make his eyes appear less devilish. I'll make an appointment with an
optometrist later, he thought to himself. But today, I have a big day
planned with Isaac.

“
Isaac,
get your sneakers on. We're going on a little trip.”

“
Where
to, Dad?”

“
It's
such a nice day. I thought we could head up to the mountains, and
have ourselves a little barbecue. Just you and me.”

“
Great!”
replied Isaac, as he ran to put on his sneakers.

The
Antichrist walked into the kitchen and grabbed a steak knife. “All
ready?” he said to Isaac.

It
was a forty five minute drive to the mountains. The Antichrist drove
slowly up the twisting road, enjoying the scenery. They pulled over
at a rest area, got out of the car, and started to walk down a
winding dirt trail.

“
Father?”
Isaac asked.

“
Yes,
my son?” the Antichrist replied.

“
Where
is the food for the barbecue?”

The
Antichrist answered, “God himself will provide food and
marshmallows.” The two continued to walk down the trail
together.

They
arrived at a clearing with a picnic table and a fire pit. The area
was deserted. Due to the plague, most people weren't in the mood for
hiking.

“
Hey
Isaac, go lay down on that picnic table over there,” said the
Antichrist.

“
Uh...why?”

“
Just
do as your father asks you,” he replied. It was a warm day, and
the Antichrist was starting to perspire, causing his makeup to stream
down his face, revealing the unnaturally white skin underneath.

“
OK
dad, like this?” said Isaac, as he lay down on the picnic
table. Black clouds started to form overhead, and thunder could be
heard in the distance.

“
Perfect,”
said the Antichrist. He approached Isaac, while taking out the steak
knife from his belt. He stood over his Son, and raised the knife
above his head.

A
voice from the clouds thundered, “Lucifer, stop!”
commanded God.

With
the knife still raised above his head, the Antichrist clasped the
handle with both hands, looked up at the sky, and screamed, “NO!”
He plunged the knife down into Isaac's chest, as the boy let out a
blood curling scream.

Lightning
arced across the sky, as the light faded from Isaac's eyes. The boy's
face was contorted in pain, then relaxed.

“
Do
you see, God?” screamed the Antichrist. “Do you see that
I do not lack conviction?”

The
roar of thunder was his only response.

The
Antichrist dragged Isaac's body back down to the car and nonchalantly
threw the corpse into the trunk. He drove back down the mountains,
and stopped at an incinerator on the way home. Several incinerators
were located outside of every major city, as the death toll from the
plague grew. Fearing the spread of disease, citizens were urged to
hand over their deceased to incinerator facilities to prevent the
spread of infection. So many people were dying, that bodies were
stacked up nearly ten feet high. It made the disposal of Isaac's body
laughably easy.

After
pulling up to the local incinerator, the Antichrist got out of his
car, opened the trunk, and threw Isaac's body on the pile of corpses
waiting to be incinerated. He then gingerly climbed back into his
car, and drove home.

*
* * * * * *

The
following Sunday, only a few members of the congregation arrived for
Sunday morning's service. The newscast of the Antichrist went viral,
and the surviving members of the congregation wisely decided to stay
clear of the man they once knew as Pastor Abrams.

The
few church members who did not know of the Antichrist's arrival, saw
him sitting on the steps of the Covenant Church as they arrived for
morning service.

“
Is
everything OK, pastor?” asked Brandon, a middle-aged man
dressed in a blue suit and tie.

“
No,
I'm afraid not,” said the Antichrist, as he looked up at
Brandon. The Antichrist was wearing colored contacts to hide his
cat-like eyes. “A few days ago, I lost my son Isaac to the
plague. I'm afraid I'm just not up for a sermon this morning.”

“
Oh
my God! I'm so sorry...I had no idea,” replied Brandon. “Is
there anything I can do?”

“
No,
I think I need to take a break from preaching for a while. You should
find another church.” The Antichrist lowered his head in
feigned anguish. He never did feel comfortable in churches, which was
the real reason he canceled morning service.

“
OK.
I understand,” said Brandon. “If you need anything, just
let me know.”

The
few remaining members of the congregation left.

*
* * * * * *

Meanwhile,
at the channel 9 newsroom, a cleaning crew was frantically cleaning
blood off the floor and walls. Newswoman and interviewer, Stacey
Kerbal, watched the grisly scene from the far side of the room. “I
can't believe how much blood there is,” she commented.

“
I
can't believe these awesome ratings,” said Zack Brannin, the
program director.

“
Zack,
how could you?” said Stacey, still in shock from interviewing
the Antichrist.

Zack
looked at the headless bodies of the SWAT team. “Well, mess
with the bull, get the horns. Hey, see if you can get him back in
here for another interview.”

“
What,
the Antichrist? Are you insane?” asked Stacey.

“
Absolutely!
I mean, about getting the Antichrist – not the insane thing.
You still have his contact information, right?”

“
Yes.
I mean no. No fucking way am I talking to that guy again. He scares
the hell out of me,” replied Stacey.

“
How
about I sweeten the deal with a promotion? How does Senior reporter
Stacey Kerbal sound?”

Stacey
paused for a moment. It was tempting, but every fiber in her body
screamed not to go through with it. “I'm sorry, I simply
can't.”

“
That's
too bad, we'll get the new girl to do it. You know, that hot young
intern? She seems like a motivated person.”

Stacey's
blood began to boil. “What? Fuck that. Ugh!” She paused
for a moment, and considered her options. “OK, I'll do it. I'll
call him tonight.”

“
Good
girl. Set up the interview in three days. We need time to get an
advertising campaign going. We're going to have TV ads during every
commercial break for the next seventy-two hours. We're going to
advertise the hell out of this. Come Friday night, every household TV
in America...No! Every TV in the
world
will be watching.”
With a wild gleam in his eyes, Zack clutched the ratings report close
to his chest, and whispered to himself, “Imagine the ratings.”

That
night, after a long shower, Stacey Kerbal stood in the middle of her
dining room, looking at her cell phone. Pastor Justin D. Abrams'
number was displayed before her, but she was having an extremely hard
time trying to press the 'call' button.

She
poured herself another drink and paced the floor. After walking back
and forth and looking at her phone for nearly thirty minutes, she
almost gave up. But then something very strange happened.

From
the corner of her eye, she noticed a bright light. Did an automatic
light just turn on? Looking up from her cell phone, she witnessed
something so majestic, so unbelievable, that her mind had a hard time
processing the image. It was...so beautiful. She dropped her cell
phone as she stared at the image made out of pure light.

“
I
am the archangel Gabriel,” he said with a smile. “I was
sent here to give you a message from God. Call the Antichrist and ask
him to the interview. It is God's will.”

Stacey
looked at the archangel in disbelief. The light from his body was so
warm. She felt a wave of pure love wash over her. “But I...I'm
scared.”

“
God
will protect you,” said the archangel.

“
How
will he protect me?” she asked.

Gabriel
stood for a moment, and looked a bit confused. “Uh...Just a
moment,” he said, then blinked out of existence.

Stacey
stood there for a second with the drink still in her hand. She took a
sip before placing the glass on the table, then went to retrieve her
cell phone from the floor. Did she just imagine that? As she picked
up the cell phone, the archangel reappeared right before her.

“
OK,
here's the deal,” said Gabriel excitedly. “God says that
I'm to be at the newsroom on Friday night. I'll protect you if the
Antichrist tries anything.”

Stacey
paused for a moment. Majestic as the archangel was, she was still
haunted by the horrific beheadings she had just witnessed that
morning. Gabriel put his hand on her should, and all doubt and
anxiety washed away from her body. “OK,” she said. “If
you're going to be there, I'll do it.”

She
looked down at her phone. The name Justin D. Abrams was still
displayed on the screen. She nervously pressed 'call'.

The
phone rang twice before someone answered. “Yeah?” said a
female voice. She sounded out of breath. “Who is this?”

Stacey
was caught off guard. “Oh, I'm sorry. This is Stacey Kerbal
from Channel 9 News. Um...I might have the wrong number. Is Mr.
Abrams there?” There was a pause on the other end of the line.
She heard what sounded like a black woman talking to someone. After a
moment, another voice answered the phone.