Prophetic Lies – Chapter Four

Written by: Kain

“You are the one. The redeemer. The one that will save or damn us all. It told me so. Don’t deny it You are the instrument...of God! A tool of the Lord to destroy the wicked plague ”

Siegfried walks carefully along the stone path leading up to the derelict asylum. Weeds and grass overrun the entire walkway. The Iron gates, though still standing, are rusted beyond usefulness. The single padlock had long ago crumbled under the weight of time. The chains that once wove in between the heavy iron rods of the gate like steel snakes lay on the ground as if discarded. The asylum itself is devoid of life. The great windows have all been shattered, leaving only iron bars in the window frames. The great stone pillars atop the stairs framing the front entrance have fallen causing the roof above them to collapse. This effectively covered the front door to the asylum, barring Siegfried’s passage to the interior.

“Well, isn’t this fun. Bars on the windows and an entire roof caved in on the front doors. Perhaps I can get in another way.” Siegfried looks at the dilapidated building. Large holes appeared all over the roof of this five story building. Siegfried knew he couldn’t very well climb onto the roof so those caved in sections of roof were of no consequence. Still, he had to get into the building to look for clues as to what that man meant. Redeemer was what he had called Siegfried. Siegfried pays too much attention to the outside of the building and not enough on the ground he’s walking on. His foot gets caught on some mysterious object and Siegfried falls to the ground. Covered in mud, he rushes back to his feet and, in anger, pulls back his leg to kick whatever object caused his fall. He stops short as he begins to realize what the object is. He bends down and examines the item. He grabs what seems to be a leather strap and slowly lifts it out of deep weeds and mud. He uncovers an old straight jacket used by the asylum before it was shut down. The metal bindings still seemed new albeit muddy. Someone had been inside recently. That means that there is a way inside.

The storm cellar.

Siegfried walks around the building to the back. The back yard of the asylum is far worse than the front. It resembles a knee deep swamp. Fortunately, it isn’t long before he sees the broken doors to the storm cellar. Trudging through the murky slime and vegetation, he makes his way to the shattered doors. He climbs through the gaping entrance, noting that the swamp hadn’t yet been able to make its way above the lip of the door frame, yet there was fresh marsh water on the stairs before he tracked more in.

The cellar is dark. Siegfried can see less and less the further he ventures. Before long, he can’t see anything in front of him. He walks back to the entrance and grabs a large piece of the shattered door. Taking out his lighter, he sets the piece ablaze and attempts to use it as a torch. Now that he can see his path, he searches for a door.

The cellar is far larger than he imagined. Pipes and machinery litter the area. He finds a small room with shelves lining the walls. On the shelves are several extra straight jackets, some strange face masks that have sharp needles on the interior of the masks, vials of blood with marked masking tape to tell which sample belongs to which patient, and several instruments of unknown use. The middle of the room is crowded with what can only be described as machines of torture. Siegfried begins to realize why this place was shut down ten years ago. The evidence is clear that the staff were doing horrible experiments to the inmates. The purpose of these devices couldn’t be mistaken.

Siegfried hesitantly stalks up a spiraling staircase towards the first floor. After exiting the stairway, he surveys his surrounding area. The decay of time hadn’t spared this floor. The walls are cracked. The floor sags and creaks loudly. Chairs are overturned and tables and counters are covered with thick dust. As if to confirms Siegfried’s suspicions, the dust was disrupted in several places, proving that someone had visited this place recently. Siegfried walks through the vacant rooms, passing several different offices and waiting rooms. After an hour of walking from room to room, Siegfried ends up at the front desk. He sneaks behind the desk and begins looking through the various books and papers he finds there. He looks through paper after paper of simple prescription records and book after book of visitor signatures. Finally, he comes across a journal from one of the doctors. He finds one passage to of specific interest to him.

“The experiments are showing a great progress. Dr. Green should be well pleased by the results. Very few patients are even trying to retaliate against the orderlies anymore. I believe they are finally finding that the treatments are necessary for the survival of the human race through the coming darkness. Orderly Jacob has only had severe problems when dealing with Miles Newarth, whom the orderlies ‘affectionately’ call ‘the Preacher’ for his constant ramblings of the ‘prophecy of God.’ I am confident that the daily flagellations that Orderly Jacob administers this unruly and ignorant patient will convince him that we are indeed doing what needs to be done.”

“Hmm...Miles Newarth. I think it’s safe to say that he’s my man. Let’s check the registry to see what holding cell they had him in.” Siegfried opens a large book and blows the dust out from the pages. He looks down several pages before coming to the name he wants.

“405.” Siegfried throws the book down onto the table and heads for the stairway to the next floor. Before he takes even three steps, a cinder block crashes down from above him, barely missing. Siegfried looks up at the balcony above him but sees nothing. He does however hear the sounds of someone running along the upper corridor. Realizing that someone is actually in the asylum with him, he chases after the phantom steps. He bolts up the stairs only to find a billy club whipped at him. Spinning to avoid the club, Siegfried knocks himself off balance and falls over the railing. Slowly, he raises his pained body and continues his pursuit.

He chases the sounds of someone running up to the fourth floor, ducking knives and sharpened metal rods and weaving in out of swinging blades and whipping leather straps. Finally, Siegfried corners the man inside a holding cell. The man’s clothes are tattered and covered in mud and dust. His hair is matted down with mud and grease. His skin glistens with slime. It is obvious that the man hasn’t bathed in quite some time. His stench instantly makes Siegfried recoil. Even as covered in mud and slime as he was, Siegfried instantly recognizes him as “the Preacher.” Miles looks upon Siegfried with disdain. Hatred burns in his eyes. “You will not be doing anything more to me or God’s children, you bastard.”

“I haven’t done anything to you to begin with.”

“Ha! Like I’d forget those daily beatings and those cruel tortures of my fellow bandsmen?” Miles' snarls at Siegfried. Siegfried lowers himself into a defensive stance.

“I am not who you think I am.”

“I recognize you, Jacob. Back from the dead to try your twisted ways again.”

“My name is not Jacob, Miles.” Miles recoils at the sound of his name. His eyes grow wider as his mouth turns into a snarl. He lunges at Siegfried and attempts to sink his teeth into Siegfried’s throat. His attempt fails as Siegfried plants his right palm firmly into Miles’ shoulder, sending him sprawling to the floor. Miles slowly stands, nursing his shoulder. He stumbles to the cot and drops into a sitting position. Siegfried cautiously moves towards him. As he gets closer, he realizes that Miles is crying softly to himself. Only a moment goes by before Miles speaks again.

“The beatings come again. Always, they come. Even after you’re dead, you still torment me.” Siegfried leans towards him.

“I’m not Jacob. He’ll never return to hurt you or anyone ever again. My name is Siegfried Schwarzsturm. I’m here...”

“The black storm rises...” Miles looks up at Siegfried with eyes bright. A smile glistens his lips. “You are here , as you were meant to be. Have you brought with you Oraculum of Deus’ Mos?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what that is.” Miles lowers his eyes. A look of sadness comes over his face.

“You have been informed of nothing then. You know so little and there is barely anytime.”

“Time for what?” Miles raises his head and looks Siegfried dead in the eye.

“The end draws near. You must go to the Church. There you will find the Oraculum of Deus’ Mos. It will answer all of your questions. It will tell you what you need to do.”

“Church? What church?” Before Miles can answer the door to the cell burst open. Siegfried spins to face the intruders.