3 Hell

Gabriel Simonsson could not believe what he saw in the mirror. His hair was whiter than snow. The entity of the peyote cactus had come last night. Entered Gabriel. Told Gabriel its very name. The left hand name of God. Mescalito. Changed him irrevocably. Was changing him. Shown him the future – and the future was dark.

Gabriel returned to the pentangle room. It was a slaughterhouse. Blood, intestines, crushed skulls, he couldn’t even identify for certain any parts that belonged to the child Marietta. For her the entity had saved its most savage rage. In the middle of the guts slimed pentangle, naked and disgraced, sat David. The wild look in his eyes of having been touched by a god.

“Come David. It’s over. We must go.”

“He’ll be back! He touched us!” David was flying with power.

“Yes. He’ll be back. Now he is free. But we must go. Quickly before the authorities come.”

Gabriel squelched through the still warm offal and rested his hand on David’s shoulder. David looked up at him, crying. “Did you see him? Your hair is white.”

“I saw him. So is your hair. David, we must go. Now.”

David gave in. Gabriel was right. They had to go. David stood and remembered how tiny he had been last night before… before… He couldn’t quite remember now. Just power, darkness, terror, rage and hunger. It was magnificent.

Gabriel placed both his hands on David’s chest and pressed close to him. “We were saved David. It recognised us. Changed us. Gave us powers. We must go David. We have to free its brothers.”

“Where will we go?”

“I know,” replied Gabriel, “Not far. He showed me where.”

Gabriel led David between the crouching buildings of Quarantine Station. The night was full of deeper dark and they clung to the shadows for safety as they stumbled, naked, downwards along the overgrown path. Gabriel was certain he would recognise what he was seeking when he saw it. The old, orange brick third class block was lit up both inside and out, looking vaguely like some decaying French chateau Gabriel could almost remember. They clumped along the uncut grass of Quarantine Station, ever downwards until Gabriel grabbed David’s arm urgently.

“That’s it. There. That is where Mescalito wants us to stay.”