The Curse of Blackbane - Chapter 3
Remiel
Chapter 3
Landing on a stone floor, Blackbane grabbed his knee in pain while he heard his sword clatter across the rock several feet away. After a couple of deep breaths, the man looked around. The candle remained lit on its side next to him. A dimly lit outline of a statue came into view as the man picked up his light. He slowly rose and stared at the face of the archangel Remiel who scowled down at him.
Blackbane knew his bible well enough to recognize the angel was a fallen Watcher and one that God who led those that rose from the dead when Judgement Day arrived. The stone statue’s fine detail showed him a muscular figure with wings that appeared lifelike. Dressed in armor, the angel held a sword in one hand and a staff in the other. The staff had a crystal orb at the top that looked like an eye for a moment. The eerie sensation of being watched in the flickering light caused the hairs on the back of Blackbane’s neck to rise.
“Another statue to scare the children,” he scoffed. “Old Captain Hornigold told me about your fairy tales.”
As he looked around, he saw more statues of the archangels. Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel, Saraqael, and Raguel were standing on pedestals in a circle around him. Each angel held a weapon in their hand, and their forms had the same level of lifelike details. On the opposite side of the entrance, he briefly noticed the door to a tunnel. It explained how the statues got into the room.
However, a large object in the middle of the circle captured his attention. Covered with a dry-rotted tarp, a shimmer of golden color came through the decaying holes. Blackbane reached out his hand, then drew it back at the sudden intense pain in his neck again. Still, the greed inside him won out. He tugged at the tarp, and it fell away.
Blackbane stepped back in silent awe. A giant golden cross stood over him. Elaborately engraved with Greek and Roman letters, it beckoned to Blackbane. His heart raced as he considered the treasure. There was enough gold on the cross to pay for a fleet of ships and more pirate crew.
I can create my barony somewhere!
Blackbane stared at the treasure before him. He stepped closer, blinking his eyes to ensure that the golden cross was not a mirage. The man reached out and touched the cross. He felt the cold metal as he slowly slid his fingers across the beam. Again, the fire in his neck increased, and Blackbane slowly retreated. As he admired his find, the pirate did not hear the soft sounds behind him.
The statue of Remiel moved. Barely perceptible at first, the hard stone slowly transformed, rippling as the figure’s flesh became flexible. The angel quietly took a step off its podium. Remiel walked closer to the pirate captain until he was just behind the man. The angel cocked his head as he observed Blackbane staring transfixed at the golden cross.
A moment later, the captain felt the agony of a sword blade entering his back. He looked down to see the silver blade sticking out of his belly. Blackbane fell to his knees, grabbing the cross while he slid to the floor. The captain clutched his stomach before falling to the floor. He rolled to his side in agony. He glanced at his shaking hands, but there was no blood on them. Still, the intense fire in his belly remained, along with the dizziness that filled his brain. He frantically opened his vest and ripped his shirt to expose his abdomen. There was no wound.
“How can I be dying?” he wondered aloud.
The figure of Remiel stepped next to Blackbane. He rolled the dying man over on his back using his foot. The angel’s skin carried the alabaster color of the stone in the room while his face held no emotion. Remiel placed the staff, holding the eye directly in the center of Blackbane’s chest.
“The man called William Marshall is dying. Your soul is damned, and your earthly body dies at the stroke of my sword.”
The angel’s eyes gleamed with a blazing blue-white fire.
“You’ve done a terrible evil against the chaste and righteous in this world. You will suffer eternal punishment. I’ll let you covet this gold cross with your dying breath before I give you to the legions of Hell.”
Blackbane stared up at Remiel. Then, to the surprise of the angel, the man let out a foul laugh. His voice crackled with bitterness.
“You think I’m afraid of Hell. Since my whore mother cast me into the street, I know how worthless a soul is,” the dying man spat out viciously. He laughed again, then groaned as he grabbed the staff. Blackbane tried to push it away, but he didn’t have the strength.
“You say that we’re built in the image of God. That means everyone is a bastard for hellfire, just like me.”
Remiel looked at the unrepentant human at his feet; his eyes raged with fury. The angel kicked Blackbane. The man painfully rolled away with a groan.
“Blackbane sides with the demons who recognize people are nothing more than foul vermin,” the captain cried out with an agonized glee.
“Tis my happiness to see a Watcher bellowing at me. I state my case that the devil knows my black heart comes from watching self-righteous jesters like you. I only regret not living long enough to kill and rape more. Give me that sword, and I’d happily cut down you damned messengers of God.”
His lungs heaved as he gasped for the air to cough out a laugh.
Perturbed, the angel turned away. He paced back and forth. Remiel kept glancing over at the captain.
Blackbane attempted to lift himself, then fell back to the floor. He smiled with confidence at thwarting the angel who killed him.
“You son of a bitch, I fear nothing. I’ll die, but I’ll never cower before you wretched kneelers to a petty god of nothing.” The captain smugly sighed as he felt death creep through his body.
The angel stopped his pacing at the foot of Michael’s statue.
“He believes he knows much about pain and suffering. Perhaps God should reveal a bitter truth to his black heart?” After a pause, the angel nodded in agreement with the inanimate stone figure. He turned to the pirate with a foul smile.
“Mortal called Blackbane. This will not end as you foresee,” Remiel said. “God has another plan for you. The merciful Lord sends you on a different path, a destiny filled with torment far beyond what you can even comprehend.”
“Let’s get this over with,” the dying man coughed out. “Just send me to hell, so I don’t have to listen to your babbling nonsense.”
Blackbane let his head fall back on the hard stone. He was ready to meet the devil and give him an earful.
“Ignorant fool, you don’t understand,” the angel gloated. “You believe you know your fate. However, you’re in for a rude surprise. In your lust for wealth and envy for power, you believe that having an inherently evil soul would achieve your goal. That is never the case. Every mortal carries a soul of grace. Now, you will learn the lessons of eternal salvation through a trial.”
Remiel’s hideous smile widened.
“Your earthly body will not perish on this morning.”
Blackbane felt his muscles surge at the news. He looked over at Remiel with disbelief filling his face. The statue came back and kneeled by the man. The foul grin remained.
“Instead of death, you will now live as an immortal creature,” the angel said. “God cursed you. But your lust for treasure will condemn you to seek treasure for Him alone. Only then can you find salvation.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Blackbane flexed his arms and eased his legs along the ground.
“You claim that I’m condemned? Next you’re telling me I’ve got a pardon. Such righteous fools!”
He raised himself to his elbows. The area on his neck where the nun touched him still burned like fire. However, he no longer felt the suffocating lack of air in his lungs. Energy surged into his body.
He’s letting me live. God is such a fool!
“The Lord is not the fool, William Marshall. You are!” Remiel exploded. “No, you don’t have a pardon. You have something suitable for your bitter soul. I told you that you’re cursed.”
“Hell, I’ve been cursed from the start! God is a jester if he thinks I care about nonsense like that,” the man sneered. “No wonder the devil wins all the time.”
The angel backhanded the pirate.
“You have read the scriptures,” Remiel reminded him. “I bring about divine visions. I foresee a future of unbearable violence and blood for William Marshall as he wonders the earth.”
“You are no longer the hunter; instead, others will hunt you. Every corner where you turn will lead only to cruelty, heartbreak, and suffering for you. This is the curse of Blackbane.”
“Hardly a burden,” Blackbane stated confidently. “I’m still determining my fate.”
“You believe so?” Remiel cocked his head as he stood.
“Quite foolish thinking, you know. Your newfound immortality brings more sorrow than you can imagine. Inside of you is an energy that all demons seek. Soon, the seven deadliest demons will hunt you. The energy inside your essence will give them something they cherish. An ability to create more creatures of the night to plague mankind.”
Remiel reached down and grabbed Blackbane by the collar of his coat. He picked the man up effortlessly with one arm and then poked his finger into the captain’s neck. Blackbane instantly screamed out in pain. His body shuddered and convulsed while he hung in the air.
“You believe you carry no conscience. But from this day forward, you learn that your past forever haunts you. The dead will return to madden you. There is no refuge from your continuous nightmare. It is the burden you will carry until Judgement Day.”
“But I’m working for God now. You said so,” the man replied with disdain. “I could suddenly get religion.”
“God condemned you to live until doomsday,” Remiel sneered and dropped Marshall, who fell to his knees.
“Apparently, you’re not intelligent enough to realize your plight. God just placed your soul between good and evil. He left you with no entry into heaven or hell. Should you give yourself up to the demons, they will rip you apart for the immortality inside of your body. Your body becomes a vessel for them to use as they please. You’ve seen what a spider does to a fly. That is your existence when you give yourself to one of the seven.”
The angel smiled at the thought.
“Think about it! Conscious and aware of everything these many foul creatures do and think, yet your very soul remains part of those creatures. Your living soul will intertwine with every demon that suckles upon your immortal energy. It’s such a fitting end to your existence, William Marshall.”
Blackbane didn’t like the way Remiel laughed at him before he walked back to the pedestal.
“Wait! You said my immorality brings demons to plague man. How can an angel do this?”
The angel ignored the question as he stepped onto the platform. The holy creature turned to address to the prone man.
“You can’t get to heaven either. A few Hail Marys will not cleanse your soul. I’m confident you will never purge your foul spirit, given your lust for the unattainable. Blackbane becomes nothing more than a ghost, fleeing creatures that want to consume them. You search for golden items that you will never keep.”
Remiel’s form slowly took the same position as a statue.
“The only way you get out of this curse is live until Judgement Day. You do that, and maybe God will find you a place in his kingdom.” He paused and grinned at the captain.
“I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
With a snap of the angel’s fingers, the room temperature plummeted. Dark shadows rose from the floor. The shades slowly morphed into figures of men and women; their pale faces indistinct at first. After a moment, the specters closed around the pirate captain. Instantly, he recognized them. He was looking into the faces of those people he killed.
Ghosts aren’t real, just figments of my mind.
Frightened, Blackbane rose and slowly backed away. He hurried toward the door. Then, the beautiful face of Emma Watson pulled in front of him. The ghastly specter hovered in front of him.
No!
It was the spirit of his first love and his first murder. Her face transformed into a grinning skull. Her spectral form rushed into his body, overwhelming him with an icy chill that enveloped his insides. The frost painfully burned his belly while his lungs felt heavy. It was the agonizing sensation of falling into a vat of ice water.
This is your baptism!
Blackbane wasn’t sure if it was his voice that he heard in his head. Suddenly, the black-hearted scourge of the high seas remembered the night of his first coldly calculated killing. Replaying each moment, he witnessed and felt everything as the victim of the murder. Over the next hour, he endured the entirety of Emma’s tragic experiences. His body and mind endured the savage rape, followed by the agonizing death by strangulation. Blackbane tried to scream as his face turned blue. Eventually, he died only to be reborn when the woman’s phantom finished with him.
Gasping for breath, Blackbane lay on the floor. He noticed the other specters watching him. He frantically crawled across the ground. A hovering figure of a boy cut off the captain’s desperate escape. He Blackbane did not remember the face.
“You murdered me for a shilling on the docks of Jamaica,” a youthful voice reminded the killer.
The specter shot inside Blackbane, and his body trembled with pain. Then, the man witnessed his escapes in the dark alley near the docks. A drunken captain demanded the child’s last shilling. After he listened to the young boy’s refusal, Blackbane felt the crushing pain of his arm as his shadowed grabbed him.
Then, an instant later, he looked down at the blood spreading across his belly as the shadow released him and walked away with a shilling in his hand. Blackbane held on to his stomach while he dropped into the filthy muck. The pirate experienced all the agony of the boy’s death, while nearby sailors walked on, drunk and unfeeling.
The line of souls who died at the hands of Blackbane continued their slow march of vengeance and justice. Each entered his mind and body to force the arrogant one to suffer each terrible death they suffered. An eternity later, the mother superior of the abbey stood in front of the curled-up pirate. No longer the ruthless pirate captain; instead, Blackbane was a broken man. His pale face covered in snot and tears. Verging on madness, he begged and pleaded with the last phantom to end his life. The woman smiled, then entered his body for his next dreadful lesson.
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