Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Why? Martinez was meant to head home early tomorrow, so they’d have no reason to worry,” Abaddon muttered, rubbing his temples as they moved along the overgrown path, wasting time when matters of greater importance still needed to be dealt with.
“Why are you against it so much? If it’s nothing, then we’ll just go home. But at least we’ll know.”
Abaddon breathed in the cool air. It smelled earthy, fresh, yet there was something unclean about it, as if whatever was hidden ahead was attempting to repel them.
“We’re here!” Gabriel shouted in exasperation, and Abaddon hung his head, knowing there was no way of talking the boy out of this madness.
A miniature pyramid grew out of a clearing ahead, so out of place it could have as well been a spaceship. The old folly was just a dark shape in the night, but every step toward it became a chore, as if the building itself was pushing Abaddon away.
Bile crawled up his throat, and he bent over, spitting some of it out as his brain pulsed, restricted by the boundaries of his skull. “I—I feel like shit, and you’re leading us straight into a trap!” he mumbled while his stomach settled.
It was only now that Gabriel returned to his side and stroked his arm. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Sweat cooled Abaddon’s forehead, but his head was still spinning, and he pushed his hair back to glance at Gabriel, whose silhouette was just a shadow.
Oh, how much Abaddon wanted to spoon this boy in their bed and smell the sweet vanilla in his hair, but out here, in this land of unknown danger Gabriel insisted they enter, all he could sense was rot. Spring might have already scattered leaves on the trees and peppered flowers in the undergrowth, but the angel in him could sense that the natural beauty was an illusion designed to obscure ugly truth.
This was a bad place, one even the Angel of Destruction ought to avoid.
“I just… I shouldn’t be here.”
Gabriel kissed his cheek, his touch providing surprising comfort. “Oh. Did you have a vision? Is this place affecting you on some… celestial level? It’s okay, I can go on my own.”
Abaddon’s hand cuffed Gabriel’s wrist before he could think. “No! No, it’s—it’s not a place for you either. You don’t need to see it to live a full life after everything’s over, and whatever you encounter will change you,” he mumbled, despite having no knowledge of what might happen.
Like with many things, Abaddon let God guide his hand, and as he stared at the narrow tip of the small pyramid, the sense of fear and revulsion overcoming every fiber of his being was all he needed to know the Lord’s will.
Gabriel squeezed his hand, and the sadness in his dark eyes made Abaddon’s heart crack. “I can no longer keep my eyes closed to what’s happening here. I need to know and bear witness. Maybe that’s why God saved me back then.”
Abaddon wanted to protest. He wanted to protect his boy from the terrible things to come, but it was increasingly obvious that if they didn’t open their eyes today, Gabriel would be forever haunted by the secrets hidden in this pyramid.
And since his happiness was so important that at times Abaddon found himself wondering whether it hadn’t overshadowed the duties God had entrusted to him, the way back would only open once they were done here.
“Okay.”
“Will you hold my hand? I know the only way I can face it is if you’re with me,” Gabriel said in a soft voice. Abaddon would have taken any burden off this boy’s shoulders. If he could, he would have wiped his memory clean of the terrible things he’d been through, but since that wasn’t in his power, he would do the next best thing and let him satisfy his curiosity. Whatever the cost.
They walked toward the building that seemed to grow with each of their steps, and so did six robed shadows as Abaddon’s mind once again whirred with visions of the past.
He could hear the sobs of the child waiting for its torment. And the breathing of the enthroned statue whose heart would never beat freely again.
Nausea overcame him once more, but as they stepped on the stone path leading from the edge of the clearing all the way to the folly, there was no way back. So he faced its triangular silhouette.
The base of the building was no bigger than the average living room, its peak at most thrice Abaddon’s height, and while it had been designed to satisfy the fancy of a wealthy man, its corruption came later. Now, it served evil instead of entertaining people.
He had to swallow his fear for Gabriel. Reassure himself that they would investigate, find nothing, and be forever done with this place soaked in cruelty.