The Forgotten God

Chapter Twenty

As Isaac continued to dream, the world below continued to move. The shadow of Am Heh's anger was spreading further, his crow had given him a wide range of ideas and options.

The ground shook, shattering any windows that still remained and cracks splintered weaker buildings, opening the earth beneath them. The lower storeys subsided, sinking dangerously and leaving the structures weak; impelling people to face the outside.

The cemetery earth opened, and the scent of death and decay flowed freely. The groan of the tombs as they were forced apart resembling the cries and moans of those beneath them. It would be easy for any nearby to think that, as the newly deceased were exposed to the world, jaws slack and gaping in silent screams.

A bolt of crimson lightening tore the sky, shredding the clouds and scattering fiery pebbles down below.

Cowering in the shade of the skip a hapless vagrant moved as the contents caught alight, dragging himself away only to be struck by another falling ember. He barely had time to register the pain as his body was engulfed in flames more virulent than any on earth.

One person was still unbothered, perhaps the sole human who wasn't. His windows caved in, sending jagged edges deep into the floor.

Kyle kicked the shards away, watching them roll like misshapen marbles to where a limp hand rested on the rug. He was never going to be able to rid the room of the stains that saturated deep into the fibres of the floor, tattooing themselves as a permanent reminder.

Cherie's body was unrecognisable. The skin had been stripped from her face to reveal the sinew and vein beneath. Wide eyes, devoid of their lids stared in perpetual fear, lubricated by blood to give them the living shimmer they would normally lack in death.

It was the only part that indicated humanity. The rest of her torn and distorted, a spirograph of gore and cartilage.

The silence in the room was fractured by the sound of wet chewing. Grotesque noises of a creature that had not eaten for centuries and was now intent on gorging as swiftly as it could.

Kyle felt sick as he looked over, observing clumsy fingers seizing hold on the clammy entrails and crushing them into waiting jaws.

Remnants slipped from the powerful canines, dripping and falling its muzzle as it chewed furiously. Each morsel was regathered and shoved back, eyes scouring to make sure nothing was missed.

"You certainly don't have any table manners," Kyle commented, turning to the window. "But maybe that was the trend in your day? Eat until vomit and then eat that as well."

The creature screeched, hurling a picked clean bone towards him with such force it embedded itself in the wall, narrowly missing his neck.

Kyle jumped to the side, holding his hands up. "OK! You're stronger, I get it! But, hell, don't I get any credit for working out how to free you? Or feeding you?"

A low, throaty chuckle stemmed from the beasts' throat and the offal dropped from its mouth to allow it to give a b****y grin.

Fear washed over Kyle as it dragged itself up off its calloused buttocks and crawled nearer. He willed his feet to work, to free themselves from the invisible cement.

He had dabbled with darkness many times and seen nothing, now he had and now he was wondering if he ought to regret it.

When he thought over things, he had never really believed they would work. It was like the Satanist phase at high school when one spoke of the dark Lord and wore nothing but black and deathly make-up, the stage up from a Goth. It was all talk, wanting to spark the unease of pupils and the concern of teachers.

Only one in the million probably believed their jabber would have any effect.

Who wouldn't want it to? He certainly had, dreaming of those made-up curses blighting the lives of the teachers who made his life a misery.

How many times had they referred him to the councillor? Written home to his parents? The latter had been infiltrated before they could see. He had been an expert since primary school at forging their signatures, not that it would have mattered had they seen them anyway.

A c******s addled huff and a warning to be more careful.

A warning that he really should have heeded more.

"Be wary, mortal," the beast said coldly. "I have spared you and that is your first reward. To earn more boons, you must continue to please me." It lifted a finger toward him and its grin widened. "You are not righteous; I would devour you also. Unless you serve me like the slave you are."

"Who are you?" Kyle's voice shook and he pressed himself back against the remainder of the window. "It'll help me more if I know."

"I am the bull. I am Babi." Pride swelled in the bass voice. It reached between its legs and stroked the bulbous organ. "See what I have? I bring such vitality and ecstasy to the righteous! Oh, puny mortal! What you shall miss when your heart is torn from your body!"

Babi dragged his nails over the rigid staff, red fluid leaking from the tip. He groaned in a mix of agony and awe, bouncing with suppressed excitement as he rolled his bulky hips.

"Such greatness I bring!"

"Greatness is what I want," Kyle said uneasily "but if you're going to go out, you'll need to cover that."

Babi froze, blinking before he gave a snarl. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing!" Kyle laughed nervously at the anger in the narrow eyes. "Most men would be...pretty envious but...even with what's going on out there, you can't go about with your d**k waving about."

Babi looked down and snorted. "I don't see the issue. It is simply a body part. What can you poxy mortals do?"

He had a point. Kyle had switched on the old radio when carving up Cherie's body. Through the static he could make out the screeching voice of the panicked presenter, the studio some miles away becoming heated as the ground seemed to boil beneath the building.

The police were out in force in the main hub of the city, trying to quell the hysterical mob who had started to stampede, crushing each other in their terror. Several of the officers had already been killed and it was more than likely they had now retreated, perhaps even joining the anarchy in an effort to save themselves from the bloodshed.

The presenter, before the signal cut off, had mentioned something about shots fired and tasers being utilised. At least the dogs and horses had made a break for it.

Babi gritted his teeth, the canines grinding. "I will wear a kilt like those other deities do. However, I do it only to protect my assets." He stroked it proudly. "So revered, I was able to use it as the mast of the ferry which conveyed the righteous to Aaru."

"And I thought my mates were vain about their anatomy," Kyle muttered, earning a glare from the other. He continued hurriedly. "I haven't got one of those kilt things, people don't wear things like that here, it's too cold. I can get you a towel to wrap around your waist though, it'll probably give you more room anyway."

Babi waved his hand dismissively. "Do as you wish. However, I want to know what you meant when you mentioned 'what was going on out there.' Clearly something unnatural arises."

"Unnatural is one word you could use," Kyle snorted, looking up as another flaming ember plummeted from the smoky clouds. "I can't say rivers of blood and armies of scarab beetles are something you see on a daily basis."

Babi seemed nonplussed and glared intently at Kyle to spot any sign that the man was jesting with him. Kyle met his gaze with indifference, giving credence to his words.

"Move," Babi swung his arm "let me see for myself!"

"The blood has dried up," Kyle hastily departed the ledge, sending glass slivers amok all over the floor "Now we have fire and earthquakes. If I was religious then I'd be screaming about the apocalypse or some other end of days."

Babi ignored him, leaping with odd dexterity onto the ledge. His lips parted into a malevolent grin and a high squeal pierced the room as he burst into peals of laughter.

He clutched his sides as the mirth became greater, his lungs aching as the effort ate his breath and tears formed, rolling down his muzzle, cleaning trails through the gore.

"Oh, how delightful! Old adversaries and old tales repeating themselves!" He clapped his hands as the spasms wore off. "I knew he'd not be trapped for all eternity, that some pathetic human would be stupid enough to free him."

"What are you talking about?" Kyle blanched as the breeze blew, sending the smell of burning meat from the hapless victims who couldn't avoid the smouldering stars that plummeted down.

"All in good time, worthless one," Babi snapped, his coldness returning. "However, I will tell you one thing! You are not decent and not entitled to anything from me. I tore the flesh and offal from those sent my way who offended in life, only rewarding those souls who were decent. The only ones I spared were those few who held me in great esteem, worshipping my image and spilling blood in my name, alas, I never got their souls as they were normally innocent. The gesture was enough though and the sentiment noble as they risked death themselves. If you wish to remain intact then you too will revere me, understood?"

Kyle paled, feeling the blood drain from his face. "Like-like a slave? Are you serious?"

The question was answered by a steady scowl and needed no words to elaborate further. Kyle turned back to the mangled corpse; his impressive butchery unable to be deciphered now. That had been a step into a black abyss he had only dared the rim of, there was hardly any more of a line to cross.

"Fine," he said grimly. "But I won't touch children, OK? There's a limit."

"No children. To kill the babes is a grave sin that souls were punished for," Babi agreed affably "Children's acceptance is also limited, they are easy to dispose of, unlike adults."

"At least we can agree on that," Kyle muttered. This was not what he had envisaged. Of course, he had seen those films, read the books, about those who summoned a greater power. He knew there was a price to pay but until the end of their lives they still had the entity serving them. Not the other way around. He hated being underfoot, it had been to his detriment all too often and was the reason he had never held onto a job.

In the long run, after enjoying the great and glorious pleasures afforded only to the rich, he had been thinking of using this to find a decent income. One where he was the manager, taking flak from no one.

"You will take me out there," Babi ordered, jumping back down. He plucked a finger from Cherie's hand, snapping it off as if it was nothing but a brittle twig, crunching it between his teeth. "I wish to see this closer. If my theory is correct then it will work to my advantage."

Many questions rolled into Kyle's flummoxed mind but his normal brazen mentality had been quashed and he nodded glumly.

"I'll get you a towel," he said weakly, turning toward the boxes he stowed them in. "I just hope you'll answer my questions, eventually anyway,"

Babi just grinned.

----

The upper floors of the museum had split when the earth shook violently. Marble and glass fell, from sandy dustings to larger boulders that shattered the exhibits and the priceless artefacts.

Mr Montford had barely taken his eyes from his papers as he hastened midway down the stairway, sitting himself in the small alcove where a memorial bench was. Now it was shattered beneath the overhang but it meant there was nothing more to fall and the drop, should the stairs cave in, was not lethal.

Ash and Marie followed behind him in silence, letting him lose himself in his concentration.

His brows were knitted together as he scoured the print outs, clutching them tightly enough to tear them in half if his hand should jolt. Everything happening about him was non-existent, only the images and words.

"Mr Montford," Marie tried as another quake shook them, the tiles below groaning like the damned as they heaved open. "We really ought to try and find somewhere safer, even outside would be better than this."

"How?" Ash asked, his pessimism overwhelming at this stage. Shu had not returned and he was convinced it had been empty words. "If we go out, we risk those fire balls, even sheltering out there could be just as bad."

"At least shop facias are light!" Marie retorted "I'm not saying it will be ideal, there's danger everywhere. We just need to find a happy medium." She forced a smile when she saw the drawn tension in his face. "And I don't mean a jolly psychic!"

The comment drew a small chuckle from him before he looked back at their boss. "Tell him that. He's impossible when he's researching, it's like talking to a brick wall."

Mr Montford suddenly looked up, snapped out of his academic stupor. "I'm not deaf," he said crotchetily "and I agree with you! However, I might have found something and staying here seems the wisest move, or near this place."

Marie peered at the papers. The patterns nonsensical to her, just drawings of crude figures, their colour drained from the dust of ages and the heedless nature of those who opened the tombs.

"Only Atum had any control over this God," Mr Montford continued "but these hieroglyphics seem to indicate, at least from my interpretation, that he was mostly placid unless commanded or offended. Even then his actions were direct, not like this. Something caused this and I believe if we find out what it was we could end this cycle of destruction. However, we need immortal help. That means waiting for-," he paused, biting his lip at the bemusing words leaving him. "It means staying around for the Gods to return."

"You think they will?" Ash sounded sceptical. He'd been let down a lot in his life. He kept going, kept hoping but this was too much. He saw little point in optimism.

"You have to trust them," Marie said quietly, reaching to squeeze his hand. "That's all we have at the moment."

Outside thunder roared hoarsely and the earth heaved again. None of them needed to exchange any looks to know they all were praying for the same thing.

Whatever the Gods were doing. They needed to be hasty.