when mortals were to drift from the path to salvation. | was painted 
as the torturer, the tormentor, the scourge of purgatory. But instead 
of hell being a place where those who had strayed from his path 
were to go, in actuality it was simply a jail cell for me. A solitary 
prison of one. Buried deep into the earth that we had created 
together. | was forced to fall to be a manifestation of this fear 
though; the path of the damned and the sinners. | became a symbol 
of something to fear and stray away from. 


Making it to the top of the hill, Patrick surveys the rest of the town in 
front of him. Being a relatively small downtown, made of only one 
single main street, from his perch he can can see the rest of the 
buildings. He could even see the entrance to the mine about half a 
mile further inland. 


Patrick slowly notices yelling coming from the fence and turns to 
wave back, thinking it's the guys still cheering. Smiling underneath 
the towel covering his mouth he slowly notices through his hazy 
mind that the crowd at the fence is no longer there. 


| wasn't something to stray from though. | was the one who gave 
them true life: love, anger, sadness, passion. | was the one who 
gave them true knowledge: curiosity, individualism, organization. | 
was the one who gave them their future. They are as much my flock 
as they are His. How could he turn his back on them. 


Although his mind is foggy from inhaling the vapors, he slowly 
begins to hear his natural instincts crying out to him that something 
is amiss. He starts to slowly walk down the hill instinctively placing 
his hand over his eyes to shield them from the nonexistent sun. All 
of a sudden his toe hit something and he stumbled a bit down the 
hill. Barely catching himself, Patrick looks down and stares. The 
ground had split and started to sink directly beneath him and his foot 
had barely just kicked the edge of the quickly widening crack. 


Opening the lock gave power to the gods, and by the laws of the 
universe gave power back to their demons. Strength flowed into my 


physical being, and for the first time in many a millennia | opened my 
eyes. Flexing my body, | broke free from the first layer of my prison 
and quickly fell to my knees. Looking up from my position, | soread 
my wings as far as they could into the cavern that was quickly 
forming. The rapid gust of wind whipped the flames of the burning 
cavern into a whirling inferno around me. 


A massive tremor, the biggest yet, came and knocked the already 
unsteady Patrick onto his back, hitting his head. Sitting up on his 
hands, Patrick's headache was even worse than before, partially 
due to the new bruise. He didn't really have time to worry about it 
though because the gap he had just tripped over had suddenly 
collapsed into the ground. 


Trying to crawl frantically back from the pit, the edge continues to 
encroach on him, nipping at the edges of his heels. The rising 
temperature heating up the ground was burning the palms of his 
hands, and Patrick could feel the skin blistering off the tips of his 
fingers. 


He was scared, so scared. This wasn't just regular fear, this was the 
fear that arises when your life is no longer in your control. The world 
was falling apart around him and all he could do was to wait for his 
death to finally arrive. Giving up on even moving backwards, Patrick 
curled into a ball and started to cry. 


Shifting my arms | reached out and called to me my weapons. With 
a blinding flash, my sword appeared in one hand and in the other 
was my fiery whip. Gathering more and more of my essence into this 
physical existence, | called out to the earth to move aside and 
release me from my shackles. Having rejected my authority for 
thousands of years, it refused to budge. | smiled. The fangs of my 
teeth sparkling in a brilliant white from each corner of my mouth. 
Fine. If creation chooses not to release me, then | shall break free 
instead. 


Chuck could see that the breach was more than just a group of 
small holes now, but had become a massive cavern, ravaging the 


small town with every shake. It had expanded so much that almost 
the entire town had been swallowed into the pit as it glowed with fire. 
It was so large that even portions of the fence further down had 
dropped away into the ground. All that was left untouched was the 
large hill in the center of town, and even that was slowly spilling 
away. 


Massive bonfires were launching out of various areas all around the 
growing pit. The temperature had risen so much that the fence 
became so hot that it burned to hold. Chuck didn't care though. He 
was staring transfixed at Patrick trying to escape the hole, and 
summarily giving up. Brenden was still stuck under his bike, 
screaming for Chuck's attention. No longer even noticing him, Chuck 
wanted to cry out to Patrick to keep moving and not stop, but his 
voice was caught in his throat. The only thing that came out was his 
own sobbing. 


Spreading my wings as far as they could reach, | rolled all my weight 
onto my heels. Keeping my balance under me, | pitched my wings 
down as hard as | could. The breakneck speed of the force from my 
wings launched myself upwards. Swinging my sword above my 
head as | burst upwards, | cleaved the earth in two. As the gravel, 
mud, and sand collapsed around me, | looked up. And for the first 
time since the dawn of the world, | saw the gentle twinkle of the 
night-time sky and the light of the heavens shining down upon me. 


| called the fire and wind to flow underneath my wings, and with a 
smooth shake of my wings | flew forth from the hole. Hovering over 
the land, | surveyed the ground below me. The destruction | wrought 
obtaining my freedom came at a price. | could see a small human 
child cowering on the ground below me. 


Patrick stayed curled up in a ball even as the tremors slowed down 
and finally stopped. Glancing at the ground around him revealed that 
the ground had stopped falling away, and the fires had subsided. 
Suddenly feeling a sharp wind start brushing across his face, he 
wiped away his tears and looked up from his knees. Above him, a 
colossal monster hovered in the air suspended by two massive 
beating wings. From its head spouted two curling horns coupled with 


the forked tail dangling down to the two legs ending in cloven 
hooves. Its eyes glowed a dark red, and they were staring right 
down at him. 


It swung its sword through the air, and as it did the ground at 
Patrick's feet solidified. The point of the sword traveled from Patrick 
all the way to the fence line. Where it pointed the ground rose and 
formed a bridge across any gap between him and the fenced-in 
perimeter where Chuck was waiting. 


Looking back up at up at the monster, a voice appeared in Patrick's 
head. "You'll be okay" it said in a dark guttural growl. "Please return 
to your friend and head home to safety. | must apologize for scaring 
you." 


Patrick stumbled up to his feet and quickly started walking down the 
makeshift path. Not stopping until he reached the fence, he climbed 
over a section that had collapsed and rejoined Chuck and Brenden. 
All 3 turned and looked at the hovering monster as it turned to face 
them. It bared its fangs at them in what may have seemed like a half 
smile, but instead frightened the boys so much they ran away 
screaming. 


Mankind has never had a true guardian, always being forced to 
bend the knee to one deity or another. They were considered 
nothing more than servants and sacrificial lambs led to the 
slaughter. Those days ended long ago, and |! will not allow them to 
return. 


| know that Man will never accept me as their savior. But His plan; to 
cleanse the world in fire, abandoning humanity in the process, is far 
too cruel to be allowed. For so long, man has put their faith in their 
God and that's what gave him His power. Instead | will place my 
faith in humanity, and thereby give them my power. 


No single entity could defeat both God and his army of angels, but 
even The Devil has his allies. The time has come for the army of the 
damned to march against the host of heaven. 


Mankind will not go back to hiding in fear. 


+ Emergency Transmission 


[BEGIN TRANSMISSION] 

This is an automated emergency message issued from ] 
SCP-1179 has reawakened and broken containment. 
Rapture Protocol is now in effect. 

May God help us all. 


[END TRANSMISSION] 


Fire on the Horizon 


The narrow alleyways of the Armenian Quarter of Old Jerusalem 
were beginning to darken as twilight stretched the shadows of the 
ancient stone buildings over them. Henry De Montfort felt the age of 
the city bear down on him like a lead brick, the sheer magnitude of 
the events it has seen dwarfing his already unimpressive frame even 
further. As he approached a seemingly deserted building at the 
corner of the old market, he wanted nothing more than to turn away 
and leave. De Montfort cursed silently. Damn those foolish old men 
for choosing this place. They did it on purpose, he was sure, they 
knew how uncomfortable the memories of their joint history made 
him. Well, he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of seeing 
him cower before a few piles of old bricks. Not when he finally won. 


De Montfort knocked on the heavy iron door at the front of the 
building, and through a hatch appeared a pair of suspicious eyes. 


"Where did you come from?" 
"From the walls of Carcassonne, mighty and thick." 


There was a sliding sound, and the door opened to reveal a 
heavyset man with a broken nose wearing the shift of a Cistercian 
monk. 


"You're late." 
"You can't rush progress, Brother Alberic." 
"Tell that to the old men. You know how they get." 


That he did. As he was ushered in by Brother Alberic he could hear 
the sounds of a heated argument from the inner chamber: 


"... they still expect us to continue our funding after the fiasco with 
the honey? That's absurd!" 


"The Manna Charitable Foundation has proved to be a valuable 
asset in the past. It would be prudent to-" 


"Valuable? That honey of theirs killed thousands! More! If anyone 
discovers our connection with them we might as well bury our efforts 
in East Africa. No, from now on, they are on their own." 


"Adnan?" 


"I'm sorry, Bernard, but | have to side with Samuel here. They are a 
liability the Initiative can no longer afford to be associated with. The 
honey was simply the final straw in a haystack of failures." 


De Montfort cleared his throat loudly. 


"We shall continue this discussion later,” said the voice from within. 
"Come in, Henry. You said you had some important matters to 
discuss.” 


“| should bloody well hope so,” grunted another. “If he insisted on 
meeting us in person to discuss them. We are busy men, De 
Montfort, this better be good.” 


De Montfort entered the dim room. Most of it was taken by a wooden 
dais, on which three heavy leather chairs were stationed. The 
occupants of the chairs were shrouded in darkness, a pointless 
precautionary measure, since De Montfort knew perfectly well who 
they were. He didn’t care. Let the old men have their fun playing 
spies if they wished. 


"| assure you, gentlemen, it is. | am here to inform you that the 
Montsegur Loyalists are no more. If the information we have is 
correct, the death of their final member should rid us of Bélibaste’s 
journal once and for all." 


"Excellent work, De Montfort,” said the central chair. "The Cathars 
have been a thorn in our side for far too long, spreading their foul 
heresy, and that journal was one of their greatest tools. Might | ask 
how you disposed of him?" 


“I’m afraid this is where things begin to get complicated. We found 
him using one of the relics, and disposed of him using another.” 


This caused quite the commotion. De Montfort was surprised at the 
amount of noise three old men could produce. 


When he next addressed him, the outrage in the voice of the left 
chair was obvious. "You dared to use one of the relics as a killing 
tool? The relics are sacred objects, De Montfort, as you of all people 
should know!" 


"| had no choice. Someone informed the Foundation of the 
whereabouts of the last Cathar. We couldn’t risk them getting their 
hands on him, not considering what he knew. It had to be done." 


The chamber was silent for a moment. Then, the central chair 
spoke. "How did they find out? The only way they could possibly... 
Oh no." 


"A traitor. Someone within the Horizon Initiative must have informed 
them." 


"Well, we all know which section of the Initiative this traitor most 
likely belongs to,” said the right chair. "The journal was stolen from 
your archives, after all." 


There was anger in the voice of the central chair. "What exactly are 
you accusing me of? The Initiative didn't even exist when the journal 
was stolen, and you know how the situation in Europe was in the 
years following the theft. The church had larger matters to deal with 
than an ancient heresy!" 


"Oh, we all know how busy the church was," said the right chair, a 
dangerous undertone sneaking into his voice. "Yes, the wars kept it 
very busy indeed." 


The left chair sighed. "Gentlemen, this isn’t the time. Allow De 
Montfort to finish his report." 


"As | was saying, a relic was used to sabotage the Foundation’s 
attempt to retrieve the last Cathar, leading to his death. As far as we 
know, they remain unaware of our intervention." 


"Very well, the matter is closed then. If that is all, | believe we can 
adjourn-" 


"Not quite,” De Montfort interrupted. "There is one more subject | 
wished to discuss with you. Project Malleus. The Initiative has spent 
far too long fighting old enemies and burying even older secrets, 
while new and much more dire threats have arisen. The last Cathar 
showed us how dangerous inaction can be. It is time we take the 
fight to them." 


This caught the old men by surprise. "Impossible!" said the central 
chair. "Confronting the Fifth Church and the Church of the Broken 
God directly?! It's madness!" 


The left chair seemed to agree. "We are still far too few, and far too 
young. Those groups hold many powerful relics, and who knows 
what else. The Initiative is still in its infancy, and our support 
structure is very limited. We must learn to crawl before we can run." 


De Montfort was somewhat surprised at the indignation in his voice 
when he spoke next: "Crawl? We are the leaders of man, the 
shepherds, the bearers of the sacred light, and you want us to 
grovel at the feet of pagans and idol worshipers? When will the 
Initiative be strong enough? When the pieces of the True Cross are 
burned to fuel a Fifth ritual? When the Menorah is smelted for 
gears? When the Kaaba is shattered by heathens? We cannot 
continue to rely on secular groups to stop a spiritual threat such as 
this. They do not understand, cannot understand. They think they 
are fighting to preserve normalcy, to defend humanity’s flesh. We 
know we are fighting for nothing less than its eternal soul." 


Silence. 


Finally, the right chair spoke. "As much as | hate to admit it, you are 
right. You have the support of the Sons of Shamai. Let it never be 
said we have cowered before evil again." 


The left chair spoke next. "Atibba al-Kitab are behind you as well. | 
have let our weakness cloud my judgment and shake my resolve. 
We must fight, regardless of the odds. It is our privilege and our 
duty." 


The center chair was last. "It seems | have no choice. The Ordinis 
Occulti Luminis are with you as well. You may begin the first phase