8

Chapter 8 of Disease

Some say God is a being, an actual person just like you and I. Others say he is a spirit, a consciousness that governs the universe. What do I say? I say nothing, other than to say that it would be arrogant to call him the title of God, knowing what we all know about the different beings of the universe. It is unacceptable.

And if something like that is unacceptable, then know I will never call Robert Thurman “God”.

Robert walked slowly through the still unfamiliar tunnels, feeling more vulnerable than the last time he had visited them. Having no gear, no guns, and no equipment beyond the solitary flashlight in his hand, he staggered on through the twisting passageway. The darkness seemed to cling to him and halt his progress, and the eerie noises of the insane men beyond were more echoing and haunting than before. Robert wondered how any man could live down here.

Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Thurman. They won’t harm you. You are their guest, and they will treat you as such. The mocking Voice whispered in his head, continually taunting Robert. Sometimes Robert wished that he could just die, so he wouldn’t have to hear the torment of the voice in his head.

It also hurt so much more that he had to leave Elaine behind. His dead wife, whom he had not laid eyes on in ten years, had come back to life in this horrible place. And after all the work he had done to rescue and hide her from the evil men at work, he had to leave her behind for the very people he had taken her from. It tore his heart, to see her lying on the ground, helpless as she was. He felt indescribably horrendous to leave her there, saving himself.

But according to you, Robert, did you really save yourself? After all, you are in a dark cave surrounded by insane men.

Shut up. Robert said in his head, wishing for the Voice to do just that. I don’t want to listen to you right now.

Then perhaps you’ll listen to me. A new voice said. Maybe you will listen to someone who truly sees what is coming, and what is at stake.

Robert nearly tripped at the entrance of a new voice. This was one was distinguishable from the other one, but not by much. The first had been Arabic, this voice, Robert would have to say, sounded Indian.

And who are you? Robert asked, continuing down the tunnel. He nearly hit his head on a ledge, and swore to pay more attention to his path.

My name is not important. Nor is the name of the God I represent. What is important, Mr. Thurman, is the fact that you must get to where you need to go. And since Farrabi seemed to be antagonizing you, I was sent to guide you to your destination.

Which would be? Robert asked the mysterious newcomer, ducking to avoid yet another ledge.

All in good time, Mr. Thurman, all in good time. However, I must warn you, that Farabi was indeed correct by saying that the men here would treat you as their guest. Their hospitality, though, consists of having men for dinner. Literally.

So there are Hungered here! Robert screamed mentally, terrified yet relieved at the revelation. He knew how to deal with those.

That is not what the Caeleste call them, but yes. They are the cannibalistic men that you know, taken alongside you and your friends.

Robert stopped in his tracks. What did you say? He asked, trying to add as much curiosity into the question as he could.

Ah, I have said too much. No matter, I cannot unsay things, as much as I would like to. Just know that there is significant danger here, as well as significant rewards.

Robert walked on, trying to figure something out of the riddles the Voices were saying to him. It was as if these people were trying to be as archaic and cryptic as possible. And he still didn’t know anything about the Caeleste, or what they did. What kind of an organization was able to speak inside people’s heads? Robert couldn’t believe that it was magic or something akin to it, not after all of the devastation he had seen. If there was magic, it had lost its power during the Burst.

Yet, how then was it possible for someplace like the Institution able to exist? There shouldn’t have been enough technology to support this kind of system. Yet he had seen medical equipment, guns, and electric lights all in the same place. Where was the electricity coming from? And where were the tools that would be needed to repair old and decrepit equipment like that? The things needed to run a complex like that would fill a list as long as Mt. Everest was high. It was staggering.

Careful, Mr. Thurman. If you question reality enough, soon it begins to unravel. And then where would you be?

Robert groaned, and nearly punched the cave wall. These Voices were able to hear his thoughts, yet they weren’t giving him any information that was legitimately useful.

Oh, but it is useful, Robert. All of these things are useful. You just need to know how to make sense of our riddles. Or, right now, you need to duck.

Robert stopped for a split second at the abruptness of the command, but he obeyed. An instant after he ducked, something went whizzing over the top of his head, narrowly missing his skull and brushing past the hair on top.

What was that? Robert asked, trying to contain his shock.

Why do you not look for yourself?

Robert shined the flashlight down the tunnel, and saw that it opened up into a large cavern. And within said cavern, there stood several ragged and dirty men, each holding a slingshot and had madness in their eyes.

“There’s one, boys! Get him! One who takes him down gets first pick!” The largest one yelled, and each of the men let out a fierce cry before releasing their volley.

Now would be a good time to run. There is a passageway to your left. Go through it now. The Voice commanded Robert, and he instantly obeyed.  Springing to the left to dodge the hail of stones, Robert narrowly passed through the “passageway”. It was actually more of a crevice, and Robert barely fit inside it. Crawling quickly and scraping his arms on the sides, he eventually fell out of the crevice into a dark, echoing room. Flicking the flashlight back on, Robert found that he was back in the laundry room from his last visit to Section 0.

Nothing had changed at all. Not a thing. The machines were all arranged the same as before, with bloodstains all over the walls. The rats were nowhere to be seen, and the door to the Sinner’s Path was wide open. A little bit of red light even seemed to be streaming out of it.

Just as before, Robert climbed into the Sinner’s Path and crawled through it, relieved that he didn’t have to battle any furry rats. The absence of the vermin also seemed to make the passageway seem much more spacious, which was another thing Robert appreciated. In a moment, he found himself back in the kitchen again.

All right, what do I do next? Robert asked in his head, hoping to get some sort of advice from the Voice. Strangely, though, it was silent, not saying a word. Robert sighed and went through the door that Hunt had walked through the last time.

The stench hit him like a ton of bricks, and he staggered backward, retching from the smell. He was in a dimly lit hallway, and there were bodies lined up on either side of it, each in a different state of decay.

I had forgotten about this room, The Voice said with genuine surprise. This was not a good thing to see.

Oh, you think? Robert thought, wiping his mouth from the retching. Luckily, there wasn’t much in there. He hadn’t eaten in… How long?  He couldn’t remember. With all of the things that had happened, calories had not been the foremost thing on his mind.

He walked slowly down the hallway, trying desperately to ignore the bodies that were there, but he was failing. He kept glancing over at their clothes and their decorations. He saw several military personnel, which surprised him. He thought that only prisoners had come down here.

Of course not, Mr. Thurman. Someone had to police the unstable ones. These were the unlucky few that were chosen for the duty. The Voice said condescendingly, as if it were common knowledge.

How do you know so much about this? Didn’t it happen years ago? Robert asked the Voice.

Oh, Robert. For a scientist, you are massively dense. After all the things I have told you, this is the one where you finally ask such a question? The Voice said with exasperation. Robert shrugged. Seemed a good enough time as any.

He eventually reached the end of the hallway, and found himself stopped in his tracks by two doors standing side by side at the end of the tunnel.  The one on the left had several stains of blood on it, and was missing the door handle. The overall countenance of the door was rugged and worn, with dents and cracks running all throughout it. There were no windows on it, but light seemed to radiate from it, and Robert squinted his eyes after so long in the dark. The other was a pure white, with no smudges or stains marring its face. It shone with a glossy shine, but there was no light coming through the single window in the center of the door. It was completely dark on the other side.

Okay, which door do I take?  Robert asked.

I’m sorry, Mr. Thurman. I cannot help you with that. You must choose for yourself. One will take you to the Caeleste, while the other will lead you back to the facility. Choose wisely. The Caeleste are very interested in you, and I do not think they would appreciate it if simple men captured you in their place.

Robert sighed, looking at the doors, focusing on them. What was he looking for? Some sort of clue that would show itself in the paint?

He sat down on the ground, letting his mind grind through the problem of somehow divining what door would lead to where he wanted to go. The differences between the two entrances were obvious, yes, but the meaning could be anything. The door of blood and carnage would lead to the Caeleste, possibly, because of the bloodshed and destruction they had caused? Or would the pure door lead to the Caeleste, as that was the kind of world they envisioned: clean, pure, and unadorned? The possibilities were endless, and Robert could in no way wash out the meaning from the smut of the possibilities.

Robert sat for hours, wheels spinning in his head as he tried to discern which door to choose. Yet, somehow, part of his mind was left free to wander and travel the memories of his past. His mind seemed to wander back to the times when he was on the run, after Elaine and Jessica were killed. What had sustained him during that time of carnage and blood, when no solution seemed to present itself for the plight of the world? The thought for revenge, obviously. That one was obvious both in his dark thoughts and his bloody deeds.

But the more he thought about it, the thing he had been looking for during those terrible years was redemption and peace from the plagues of his life. He didn’t want to have to kill anymore to survive; he just wanted to be able to live in peace again, with his wife and daughter beside him. He didn’t want to be bothered anymore by the cares of the world, nor by its trials.

He didn’t want blood. He wanted obscurity.

Robert grabbed the handle of the clean door, and pulled it open, entering the darkness. He flicked the flashlight on, and found himself in a large, empty room. It seemed to be an old ballroom, or something. Or a cafeteria. It was that big.

As soon as he entered the room, the door shut behind him, leaving him in almost total darkness.

Excellent choice, Mr. Thurman. None of us thought that you had it in you. I must say, we didn’t think that you had an ounce of desire for peace anymore. The previous day made that quite clear. I’m glad that you were able to choose correctly. Now we can begin. Hunt’s voice rang throughout the room, and Robert spun around, searching for the mysterious man. He found nothing.

“What do you want from me? Honestly! What can I do for you?” Robert shouted, looking up at the ceiling with his flashlight.

Oh, you can do so much, Mr. Thurman. Has your experience in a lab, or your experience on the road taught you nothing? You are an extraordinary man, and we have many reasons for wishing to use those talents that make you special. As to what those reasons are, well, we cannot reveal that yet. We must first call for a vote from the council. Hunt answered coolly, and Robert could picture him sitting at a desk with a mischievous smile on his face.

“ A council of what?” Robert shouted back, annoyed at the low amount of answers he was getting. “Of the Caeleste? I don’t even know who or what that is! Come on, Hunt! Give me something useful!”

Mr. Thurman, as your previous assistants have told you time and time again, everything we say to you is useful. Not a word is wasted. Hunt said, but then audibly sighed.  But maybe I can give you some of the information you seek. As Rodriguez told you, The Caeleste is made of men who represent certain all-powerful beings in the universe. They seek to preserve the human race.

“Wait, what are you saying? That they represent God?” Robert asked, skepticism rising in his tone.

Not God in the singular, Mr. Thurman. Indeed, a few of our members say it is arrogant to say that one being is more powerful than another. No, we represent different gods from different cultures. Rodriguez represents Quetzalcoatl, whilst Liyange represents Shiva.

“Wait, so these different gods exist?” Robert asked, with even more doubt in his voice.

Whether they are actual gods remains to be seen, Hunt said hastily. But the fact of the matter seems that certain very powerful beings came to each of us asking to be represented, saying they wished to protect Earth, but lacked the cohesion to do it. We obliged, and thus became the Caeleste.

“So they aren’t gods.” Robert said, letting out a long breath.

Hunt growled. As I said, we do not know if they are truly omnipotent or not, but they are powerful. And they seek to help the humans, so I suggest you just believe me instead of acting like an insolent child!

Robert sighed, and looked around the room. Nothing seemed to pop out at him, not even a single smudge or piece of graffiti.

“So what do you want from me?” He asked Hunt.

As of right now, do nothing. I must call for a vote of the council. They are anxious to see what you are able to do, but not so anxious as to rush a decision. It may be a while. Your needs will be cared for. Hunt said succinctly, and there was a small flash of light. A plate with a steaming steak and mashed potatoes lay on the floor, with a glass of water and a pitcher standing next to it. A larger flash of light followed, and there stood about ten yards away from the food a toilet and sink.

“So I’m just supposed to sit here and wait?” Robert asked resentfully, wishing for something eventful.

Yes. Keep up, Mr. Thurman. For a brilliant scientist, your density astounds me.

The Voice was gone.

Robert sighed, walked over to the food and water, and picked it up, eying it suspiciously. At that moment, however, the luscious smell of the food entered his olfactory senses, and he began to devour the food without utensils.

It was indeed the most delicious food he had ever tasted. Succulent, juicy, and tender, the steak was quite possibly divine in its taste. The potatoes were warm, soft and buttery, and his mouth couldn’t get enough of it. He was ripping chunks off the meat and shoveling it past his teeth, resembling an animal in more ways than one.

Slowing, he forced himself to slow down and savor the experience. He likely wasn’t going to have a meal such as this for a long time, and he wanted to be able to remember this experience. He began eating the steak slowly and trying to act as civilized as possible, but that was difficult without a fork or knife. Finishing off the meat, he turned to the potatoes. He figured that there wasn’t really a good way to eat something like this, so he settled for eating it slowly, if not dignified.

The food gone, he lay on the floor, literally gasping for air. He still could not believe how quickly the food was gone. It was so good, and all he wished for was an entire room filled with banquets such as that. However, at this moment, for the first time in his life, he believed he could die in contentment. There was nothing that he didn’t want right now.

Except for a drink. Robert began to notice exactly how dry his throat and mouth were, and with a groan, he sat up and grabbed the glass and pitcher. Pouring himself a large glass, and sat back against the wall, sipping away. It was cool, pure, and refreshing, with a slight hint of lemon. The feeling of it traveling through his body was as cool as the liquid itself. It was simply the most refreshing drink Robert had ever had. Whoever these gods were, they certainly knew how to pamper someone.

Shint, I’m turning into my mother. I’ve got to stop this. He thought, then let out a chuckle.

As he let his mind wander, it started to travel back to the Burst days, as they always did. Robert fought to keep the memories away, but soon was too tired to care. The events of the past several hours were finally taking their toll on his body, and Robert wanted nothing more than to sleep and rest. He sank into slumber, allowing the memories of those days gone by to flood into his brain.

“I just don’t get it, Terrence. How could the bacteria be replicating if all they do is swim around in the water?”

“I don’t understand it either, Robert. If I did, we wouldn’t be in this mess! We’d have the cure up an ready, and people could go back to their lives!”

Robert growled, running his hands through his thick and unkempt hair. They hadn’t been able to break new ground on the disease in weeks, and every day the world got worse. Robert didn’t know how long his food stores would hold up. They had a moderate amount left, but they’d really have to ration if they wanted to get far with it.

Robert looked at Terrence with sadness in his eyes.

“What are we doing, Terrence? Who are we kidding? We’re just a couple of scientists no one has ever heard of, and we’re fighting a losing battle. We can’t figure out what makes these things tick, and every day I don’t know if my family or I are going to see another one! You’ve heard about those monsters, those ‘Hungered’. Real or not, I know that I saw that body dead in the street. It wasn’t just dead; it was ripped apart. This disease isn’t just killing people by eating them, Terrence. It’s destroying their minds. And I don’t want my wife, my daughter, or my unborn child to have to live in this world.”

Terrence started at Robert’s words, face going pale at his last sentence.

“What did you say?” He said shakily, reaching down for his chair and falling into it with a sigh. “Elaine is pregnant?”

Robert nodded his head, and turned toward the window. The sky and clouds were gray, just like they always were. As grey as their lives.

“What are you going to do?” Terrence asked, putting a hand on Robert’s shoulder.

“What else is there to do, Terrence? I’ll just let nature take its course. Hopefully by then we’ll have sorted this thing out.”

Terrence fidgeted in his seat. “You know, there are other alternatives…” He trailed off.

Robert whirled on his friend, grabbing his collar and pushing his chair against the wall. “Alternatives like what?” He shouted in Terrence’s face. “Kill the baby beforehand? You think I can just randomly do that? You think I’m a murderer? That baby’s life is as valuable as yours or mine, and I will not take that away from it!” He abruptly released Terrence, and began pacing the room, muttering to himself.

Terrence watched his friend as he moved about the room, and marveled at how a disaster and the endangerment of one’s family could drive a man to madness such as this. And if this was madness, well, he didn’t want to meet one of those things that people called “The Hungered”. They gave him the shivers just thinking about it.

A loud bang interrupted Robert’s thoughts, and he immediately stood still, waiting for the noise to appear again. It obliged, this time sounding closer. It was followed by a series of even louder bangs, and they were coming from the lobby. Terrence and Robert looked at each other, and they sprang for the door. Robert made it there first, and he yanked it open. With the door now completely open, he could hear men shouting and women screaming.

Jessica and Elaine.

Robert made it to the lobby in time to see five heavily armed men pointing various firearms at him.

“Are you the man in charge here?” The first one asked in a heavy Southern accent, his weapon steady in his hands. Robert looked at the women for a bit, then nodded slowly.

“Good.” The man said, lowering his weapon. “Then you’ll be the one we’ll be negotiating with.” He made a motion to his men towards the women, and they walked over to them and gruffly hoisted them to their feet. Elaine whimpered a little, and the man holding her glared at her threateningly.

“Now, Julius. We aren’t here to hurt them. We’re here to help them. No need for this little exchange to get violent, now does it? You can let go of her now. I’m sure she can walk on her own. Right, lady?” The Southern one said, making Julius look a bit sheepish. He let her go, but stayed a few feet behind her, eying her to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid.

“What do you want from us? We don’t have anything valuable. I’m just a scientist; I don’t know how to fight or anything. My wife and daughter can’t help you in any way.” Robert babbled to the man, fists clenched in a show of defiance that masked his deep fear.

The Southern one snorted. “Now I’m not so sure about that. These ladies are pretty fine. Maybe if we had more time…” He trailed off, looking Jessica with a look of evil desire. She looked horrified, and fought against her captors. The man snapped back to attention. “But not now. No sir, we don’t want much. All we want is your food.”

Robert scoffed at the proposition. “We don’t have any food. Not enough for all of you, anyway. We barely have enough for ourselves.”

The man smiled. “Are you sure?” He asked, pointing his gun at Robert. “It would be a shame if something were to happen to you. Being a scientist and all, I’m sure you’re doing good work.”

“You don’t scare me. Leave.” Robert said, pointing towards the doorway.

The Southern man frowned. He pulled out a revolver and pointed it at Robert’s face, cocking the hammer into place. He held it there for a second, and then lowered it. Robert breathed a sigh of relief, but it was too early. The man raised his gun at Jessica, and pulled the trigger. An ungodly bang echoed through the room, and the tile exploded underneath Jessica’s legs. She looked dumbly down at the spot where the bullet had hit for a second, then her eyes rolled back in her head as she passed out. The man looked back at Robert.

“Now here I was thinking you could be reasonable.” He said, cocking his gun again and leveling it at the slumped girl. “Next one goes between her eyes. Are we ready to negotiate yet?”

Robert stared at him with hatred in his eyes for a split second, then nodded very slowly.

The man smiled once more, and holstered his pistol.

“Good. Wouldn’t want to harm a potential doll, now would I?”

He made a gesture for Robert to start moving, and he did so. However, they let out a loud protest when he started walking towards the door and the pouring rain beyond it.

“Whoah whoah!” The one the man called Julius said. “You think a trick like that is going to fool us? None of us are going out in that rain.”

“It isn’t a trick,” Robert replied. “I don’t keep my food where I work. It’s in the building next door.”

The man glared at him, then nodded to his men. They each went to the trash can by the door, rummaged around behind it, and pulled out a poncho apiece. The Southern man went over and pulled out two, throwing one to Robert.

“Did you think you weren’t coming with us?” He sneered, pulling the garment over his head.

Robert glared at him, and then pulled his own poncho on. The plastic material felt strange against his skin, but Robert couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Hey doctor man! Let’s go!”

Robert gasped, instantly awake from his slumber, He quickly stood up, rubbing his temples, and began to pace. He had heard that voice before, but it wasn’t from the Burst days. It was far more recently. Someone had said something akin to that, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

While he was pacing, he somehow failed to notice that a sliver of light from a doorway had appeared on the far wall of the room.

“Are you going to stand there all night, Mr. Thurman, or are you actually going to pay attention and come when called?” Hunt said distastefully, holding the door open. Robert looked at him dumbly for a split second, but then quickly remembered that he was awaiting a decision from a literal Pantheon.

“No, no. I’m coming. Don’t worry.” He said hastily, and began walking over to the door.

“Good. The Caeleste have made their decision.”

Robert nodded, and then walked past Hunt into a brightly lit room of equal size. He walked into the center, and looked at the strange gathering around him.

It was a strange kind of sunken courtroom, with Robert being the lowest in the center of the room. Rows and rows of seats spread out and up, and nearly every single one was filled. They were ornate, even antique, and looked to be very old yet very new at the same time.

The men and women that sat in the chairs varied far more than Robert could ever imagine. He saw men who seemed to be millions of years old, and some that were younger than he was. Some of them had white skin, others had black, blue, or even were transparent. Robert would never have noticed them if they hadn’t been wearing clothing.

A gavel pounded, and Robert whirled to face the one who did so. When he saw the man, he was taken aback.

This man looked to be about twenty-five years old, with long white hair flowing down his front. His eyes were shining purple, and they had the complexion of one who has lived forever. He was dressed in a beautifully decorated purple robe, with long tassels reaching down from golden shoulder pads. His weathered face bore down upon Robert’s countenance, and Robert shrunk back from his gaze. The man seemed to be oozing power. His mouth opened to speak.

“This council shall now state their decision on the matter of Robert Thurman. My name is Pontius, and I shall be leading these proceedings.” The man boomed from his seat, looking directly at Robert.  “I represent Jupiter Optimus Maximus, Patron of Rome. Shall any deny my authority?” He looked up at the infinite crowd, and not a single voice answered him in return.

He turned his eyes back to Robert, looking at him intently. “Have you nothing to say?” He asked.

Robert looked up at him in confusion. “Sir, your honor, I don’t even know why I am here.”

The room erupted into astounded shouts, and Pontius had to pound his gavel to restore order.

“Have your aids not informed you of your purpose?” He asked, narrowing his gaze. Robert shook his head. Pontius sighed, leaning back and rubbing his eyes.

“Oh very well then. Avram! It is your chance to speak.” Pontius said, yet again in the booming voice, then pointed at the crowd. Robert turned to see the man who was to finally give him answers.

A timid, thin man near the front row stood up slowly, holding on to a round black hat on his head. He was wearing simple, grey rags, and spoke in a voice that was barely a whisper.

“Mr. Thurman, we brought you here so that you may reverse our mistakes.” He said. The room again erupted into furious shouts, many of the representatives pointing at Avram with menacing fingers.

‘We did not make a mistake! We never make mistakes! It was those blasted humans who ruined everything, not us, and certainly not Odin!” One shouted.

“Vishnu would smite you for such blasphemy!” Yelled another.

“The Path says for us to take responsibility, yes, but we do not take false blame!” A third, bald monk said.

Pontius again pounded the gavel on the rail, apparently cursing in Latin, then shouting in English.

“Brothers, we are to represent gods! Let us not squabble like petty mortals, and certainly not when we are in the wrong! You all know that we are indeed to blame, as we did not take the correct measures to ensure the Earth’s safety. This is indisputable! Now, let us have Avram begin again.” He sat back his chair, letting out a quick, exasperated breath. Avram nodded, then started to speak again.

“Mr. Thurman, you know of AD-952, or as you call it, the Cloudburst Plague. You know what it was intended to do, and how it mutated into a monster.” He sighed at this point, and then looked at Robert with sadness in his eyes. “What you do not know is that we knew full well that all of the carnage it caused was going to happen, before it ever occurred.”

Robert looked at him blankly. “What do you mean?” He asked, tilting his head in a quizzical gesture.

“I mean,” Avram said, “that we knew that all of the resulting consequences of its deployment would occur. We knew that the world would fall.”

Robert stood silently for a second, then leaped onto the stairs and began to quickly make his way to Avram. Avram shrank down before Robert’s ascent, and tried to scurry away from him, but he wasn’t fast enough. Robert grabbed him by his collar and screamed in his face.

“You’re the reason my wife and daughter died? You’re the reason I’m living in this hellhole?” He screamed, shaking Avram back and forth.

“Thurman!” Robert heard Pontius yell, in an unnaturally magnified voice. “Return to your place!”

Robert stared angrily at Avram, fuming and about ready to burst, then abruptly let him go and returned to the floor. He stood there, arms across his chest, and continued to stare at Avram. Pontius nodded at the shaking and sweating Avram to continue.

“Mr. Thurman, as I said, we knew all that would happen. But many of my brethren thought that the humans needed a disaster, something to cleanse the slate. We all believed they had become corrupted since the Flood, and many decided this would be the perfect purge.”

“We were fools. Once we had set a course, we knew there was no going back. We didn’t want to realize that we, and the beings we represent, did not make the right decision. Arrogance has always been our worst flaw, and so the Plague happened. At first we believed that it would be harmful, but nowhere as devastating as it became.”

“When the first reports came in, and we realized the mistake we had made, we knew we had to act. But you must understand, gods have always been slow to act. Having such immortal life spans, what may seem like many years to you is merely a heartbeat for them. It took nearly fifteen years for all of us to come to an agreement. But once the agreement occurred, we immediately set our plan into action.”

“That will be enough, Avram.” Pontius said quickly, silencing any further response from Avram, who sat down quickly and quietly. “The point is, Mr. Thurman, we have brought you here today so that we could decide if you were the one we would choose to destroy this plague.”

“But that still doesn’t explain why I suddenly found myself in a mental institution or why my wife is suddenly alive! Explain that!” Robert shouted, struggling to maintain his composure.

Pontius began to speak, but was interrupted by a servant rushing up to the stand and whispering in his ear. Pontius’ eyes went wide, and he looked down at Robert.

Suddenly, he was standing in front of Robert, and he was holding a sword in his hands. He flicked it up to Robert’s throat.

“Why have you brought one of our enemies here? Who have you told of this meeting?” He shouted, coming dangerously close to harming Robert.

“I haven’t told anyone! I don’t even know who your enemies are!” Robert replied, desperately trying to keep his throat from being slit.

“Lies! Janus stands at our doors at this very moment!” Pontius shouted back, sword point quivering against Robert’s skin.

“Who the Burst is that?” Robert yelled, eyes forever on the thin blade.

“Janus, the Two-faced god of choices! You have led him here!” Pontius yelled, but was silenced by the sound of a door slamming open.

All eyes went to the doorway that Robert had walked through, anxious to see the actual deity that would be standing before them. Quick footsteps sounded, and the person came into view.

“Well, ain’t this a warm welcome? You guys sure know how to make an outcast feel welcome.” A Western accented voice said sarcastically. Robert nearly fell onto Pontius’ sword from shock. He knew this person, in three different forms. One, as the God Janus. Two, as the Southern man who threatened him in the lab all those years ago.

Third, as his friend and cellmate, William.

Or as his evil side was called, Darnell.