Pulling the Strings
© 2008 Michael Barlow


This document is licensed under the Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 UK: England & Wales license, available at http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/uk/.

Chapter 9
Ignoring my desire for revenge on the witch, I pursued the plague carrier through the town. He was unusually fast, to a normal human he might appear as though a blur. To me, however, his movement is as plain as day.
He leaps across the rooftops in order to evade me, but I manage to keep up. The plague carrier thinks he's fast, but I've seen, and felled, much faster. I felled the great Monksbane, a demonic assassin who was able to catch bullets with his bare hands. The pirate of Bishkek, who could run on water, I sliced in two. So why am I unable to catch the plague carrier? He seems like those I have fought before, but when I reach out to grab him, catastrophe turns my head and I lose sight of him. Not this time however, I have learned his tricks. Disaster shall not take my gaze this time, my eyes shall remain fixed on him.
In the blink of an eye I lose sight of him. It is as though he simply disappeared, vanished into thin air like a damnable magic act. I scour the streets, the alleys, whilst keeping one eye on the rooftops in case I have been tricked. He seems to have yet again slipped my grasp. I keep searching. I will not let him get away again!
As I round a corner, the plague carrier is simply stood in front of a church, as though waiting. Does he expect me to follow him? He waits for me, I know it. The plague carrier is mocking my attempts to capture him. As he stands in front of the heavy oak doors, he's planning something, his body language gives it away. If I could see his face behind that beaked mask, I'm certain it would confirm my suspicions. But what does he plan? Does he yearn for my own death or capture? Or does he take glee at seeing me attempt to escape the situations he crafts?
No matter, I shall kill him all the same. As I compose myself and step toward him, the plague carrier steps into the church. I can see a congregation inside as the doors swing to, so I know I must be careful. I will not interrupt worship of any god, despite my desires to rush in with my sword drawn and cut the plague carrier down. No, for this I will need to be more subtle.
I quietly open one of the heavy oak doors and step into the church. Inside the plague carrier is nowhere to be seen. How does he do that? How does he simply vanish just as I get close? To avoid causing too much distraction, I quietly sit down in the rear pew. It has been many a year since I last attended worship, so I feel compelled to listen.
The priest speaks of the hidden dangers of society, even a dying one such as this. Looking around the church, I see seven others, so dying may be the right word for this town. He speaks of the lack of cooperation in modern society, and this is why evil thrives.
It seems like a standard sermon, until he speaks a part about 'invisible evil', that 'surrounds the righteous'. Has the preacher seen those invisible fiends in the marketplace? Or is this something worse? I stand up and begin to leave, but notice a marking on the entrance flagstone. As I crouch, I can see simple vandalism. This is not the maker's mark, it's scratched in, perhaps with a screwdriver or pocketknife. The number looks familiar though. Nine hundred and eighty four. Where have I seen this before?
It soon comes to me- gematria. Nine hundred and eighty four is the numerological equivalent, by the Agrippa values, of the demon Remzahnumon. It is also the equivalent of other words and names, but Remzahnumon the Envious uses his number to signify his presence. This development shocks me. He has desecrated holy ground? And what of the priest, is he under the influence of the demon that is Number Six by way of Arathax? If the priest is hostage to the Earl's whim, then the flock is also. I must find the source of this desecration.
I step outside, back into the rain. The church is old Gothic- sweeping lancet arched windows, ribbed vaults and a tall pointed spire reaching for the heavens. The churchyard itself is old, full of mausoleums and statues, which have been eroded by the ravaging storms of time. Some of the statues are no longer recognisable, the faces washed away by a century's worth of rain, and the engravings covered by moss.
But somewhere in this land of the dead lies unholy ground,which would allow the Envious to walk through God's domain unchallenged. I can smell it, the taint is strong, though I cannot follow my nose as the taint seems to permeate the very stones of the church. I will have to look for  the signs instead.
My eyes peel back the night as I peer into the darkness, allowing every little detail to be revealed. Bindweed strangles the Yew in the centre of the churchyard. A bat box rests at the base of the spire, but is not used by bats. A rat crawls in the undergrowth beneath the Yew. It is not an ordinary rat, however. As it runs away from the tree, I can see its diseased form- a plague carrier. I cannot be certain it genuinely carries the Black Death, but rats tend to be healthy creatures unless there are near severely polluted or desecrated land. So I follow it.
It leads me to a mausoleum at the rear of the church. This sepulchre is clean, unworn, and fresh without signs of erosion. There is no growth around the tomb, no moss, no vine, and the surrounding land is bare of grass and weed. Nothing grows here- a clear sign of desecration. The tomb is dated 1852, with the name 'Urias Kahn' chiselled over the entrance.
It can't be- Urias Kahn? I had heard his lifeless cadaver had been moved from the graveyards of Belgium to an undisclosed location in the United Kingdom, but to place his foul essence on holy land is madness! The date is correct- the Urias Kahn I believe this to be was rended in twain by a crazed mob in 1852. He was then sealed in a cast iron sarcophagus by the Universal Awareness Army which was in turn sealed in a reinforced mausoleum.
It may seem extraordinary lengths to secure a corpse, but those lengths were necessary. The mausoleum was covered in Gnostic barrier carvings, and Keys of Solomon which have never been seen outside the archives of the fallen Knights Templar. The carvings were then laced with blessed silver and the entire mausoleum was then buried in earth imported directly from the Vatican.
Yet they moved him from this most secure location and placed him on faltering holy ground, simply because of grave robbers. I must enter the tomb to see if his sarcophagus is still sealed, as this sepulchre has none of the wards which prevented his escape in the previous. The tomb isn't even locked, the barred oak doors swinging freely as I give them a push. The stench of taint rushes out to greet me. This smell alone suggests he has escaped.
Has the plague carrier lead me to the cause of the disaster to come? Do I have a chance to prevent the deaths of innocents? My thoughts of glory are soon clouded by another thought- what if this is a trap? Has the plague carrier lead me to my own destruction? Questions, always questions. If I do not enter, my neglect may cause the disaster. If I do enter, I may cause the disaster and kill myself in the process.
I shake the worried thoughts from my head and enter. The darkness makes it difficult to see, but I can barely make out an oblong shape toward the back of the structure. I risk placing my hand on it, and feel that it is cast iron, the sarcophagus of Urias Kahn. Urak, Minion of the Envious and slaughterer of children.
A brief brush of my hand around the coffin determines that it is not sealed. Damned plague carrier, what have you done? I cautiously open the lid, listening to the crack as the rusting hinges find use once more. My eyes have adjusted to the dark by this point, and I can see the carvings of Omnimodus Scientia Exercitus covering the metal. Even with my knowledge of the Minion, I am still not prepared for what I see.
The corpse is- fresh? And he has changed since I last saw him. His hair is thin and sparse, exposing large patches of greying scalp. His lips are parted, displaying a set of dagger-like sharpened teeth, which are stained with blood. Has he eaten recently? What poor soul had their life- and their flesh- stripped by this cannibal? As I survey his barely clothed, atrophied body, something catches my eye.
A child's wellington boot, almost psychedelic in colour. I can see strips of flesh clinging to the rubber. He has murdered another child! He may have been let off lightly by Omnimodus Scientia Exercitus, but I shall not be so forgiving! I reach for my gladius.
"Here to spill what little blood I have left, monk?" His voice is guttural, and deep as though rumbling from the bowls of the Earth.
"You shall be in pieces once I am finished, Minion!" I prepare to strike just as a question enters my mind.
"Is the congregation tainted by your presence?"
He inhales, his breath wheezing, and grins, the zigzag of his teeth is almost distracting.
"Everything is tainted by my presence. It's the gift of the Envious One."
He sits upright, and flicks the child's boot to the floor.
"Children don't taste like they used to." He sniggers and looks me in the eye, "they squirm the same though. The sexual gratification of-"
I cannot listen any longer. I fly into a rage and penetrate his heart with a roar.
"Monster!" I bellow.
"- a squirming child is-" he begins to choke on his own blood, "-most exquisite. You-"
I cut him off again and remove my blade from his chest. I go berserk and begin hacking at him, his blood painting the walls of the mausoleum.
"-should try it. The feeling of-"
I keep slashing at him until his organs are mince, and I am covered in the blood of the Minion.
"-being inside such an inno-"
I don't stop until he does. It takes decapitation to stay his foul speech, but he finally exists as nothing more than mince and a head. It takes a while for me to calm down from this vehemence, and I sit on the mausoleum floor to focus on slowing my pulse.
I am finally sedate as I walk back to the church, but questions still cross my mind. Did Urak mean what he said about the congregation? Are they truly tainted, or am I being tricked into slaying yet more innocents? It does not matter, the land must be healed by a cleansing fire. I am the flame, the blaze, the hand of the gods.
I enter the church once more, and make sure the doors are closed. This will be tricky, ensuring that none escape. Of course, the idea strikes me that the pews are not bolted to the ground, but very heavy for a normal human. I am more than normal, and it takes little of my strength to lift a rear pew and place it in front of the doors. Their attention is on me as I slam the wooden bench down on the flagstones.
"Excuse me," the preacher raises his head and looks down his nose at me, "I almost hesitate to ask, but what are you doing?"
I walk to the beginning of the small crowd, and bow low.
"Cleaning."
He is about to open his mouth again when I stop him with a wave of my left hand, and with my right I swiftly draw my gladius and remove the head of the nearest of the congregation.
"Cleaning the house of God. You accepted a defiler into your churchyard and made this church unclean!"
Three of the worshippers have run to the doors, but are unable to move the pew place before it. They will not be leaving until I am finished. They will not be leaving at all. I drag a young woman, who was cowering behind the oak bench before her, into the aisle and squeeze the breath from her body. At this point the priest runs to aid the others at the door, who have been joined by the remaining two cowerers. Together they start to move the pew.
I drop my blade and grab another bench. With a quick spin I build up momentum and hurl the seat at the door. It lands with a crash as the preacher and two others duck out of the way. The other three are not so intelligent and are crushed between the pews. I crouch, and use the strength in my legs to leap to the doors, leaving my gladius behind. I snatch another of the congregation by the collar and snap his neck. The last, an old woman, simply screams a prayer as I use my boot to crush her skull.
The preacher is curled up in a corner, rocking back and forth, mumbling a prayer as I return for my gladius, and proceed to slaughter the three trapped beneath the pew. Only then do I grab the priest, dragging him to the pulpit. Pinning him to the floor, I snap his arms and legs, ignoring his screams of pain. I reach for a candle.
"You must be cleansed."
I light his collar, and his screams of pain are mixed with screams of fear. He burns slowly as I proceed to spread the fire around the church. As the flames reach self-sufficiency, I return to the doors and throw the pews and  corpses into the growing inferno, open the doors and step outside.
It stops raining soon after the preacher stops screaming. Perhaps I have done right. Only time will tell. For now though, I must search for the plague carrier.