The Perfect Run

An atheist had once told him that though he never believed in God Almighty, the Chapel Sistine made him doubt.

How could anyone question the existence of God in this room? Cardinal Andreas Torque had seen many sinners repent in tears the moment they raised their head at the ceiling, to witness the glorious work of Michelangelo. No man’s heart could remain unmoved at this architectural and visual perfection. Most only remembered the Creation of Adam part of the frescos, but Michelangelo had painted many more stories, each marvelous in their own way. The Cardinal could spend hours marveling at this divine feast for the senses; and the sight of tourists taking pictures of this wonder without appreciating it made him weep inside.

But these were not the opening hours of the Vatican Museums. Only a single man’s footsteps echoed in the chapel to join his superior, as the clock struck midnight.

“Father Torque,” Inquisitor Ambrosio greeted the Cardinal, dressed in the black garments of the Roman Catholic Church. Ambrosio was more than twenty years Andreas’ senior, his head balding, his golden beard falling off at the edges. Yet his green eyes shone with the same witch pyre that warmed Andreas’ heart.

Andreas Torque was one of the youngest Cardinals in the Catholic Church, by decree of His Holiness Jean-Paul II; he had not yet reached forty. Many had questioned his appointment, his virtue, and his achievements. He had no great deed to his name, and he liked it this way.

His work was best done in the shadows.

The Malleus Maleficarum, the Vatican’s secret service, did not exist, even to most of its members. The Church was officially neutral in world affairs, and only worked through its extensive diplomacy network.

It was a lie, of course. The Catholic Church had many enemies, and needed fiery swords as much as quills. The Malleus Maleficarum’s purpose was to keep His Holiness aware of all dangers threatening the true faith, and to advance the Catholics’ interests across the world.

When Andreas had joined the service, he had been nothing more than an Inquisitor, the lowest rank of this secret fraternity. The future Cardinal had spent most of his career undermining the communist plague that had infected Eastern Europe, and revitalizing the Church’s influence in the broken USSR’s regions. When he eventually became the organization’s Inquisitor-General seven years ago, Andreas Torque had worked on His Holiness’ behalf to check the influence of terrorist groups in the Middle East. Even though Jean-Paul II was on his deathbed, surrounded by scheming Cardinals, the Malleus Maleficarum worked tirelessly to fulfill the Pope’s wish of universal peace.

In short, Andreas Torque was used to fighting human evil.

But the horrors they were facing nowadays… were something else entirely.

Something unnatural.

The two priests sat on a bench, with Ambrosio giving his superior a twenty-five page long file. Only two words were written on the cover.

‘Stanford Incident.’

Andreas’ eyebrows furrowed deeper with each line he read, and the priest outright scowled when he reached the first picture. “Who else knows?” Torque asked.

“Only the Americans for now. And us.” Father Ambrosio joined his hands, a thoughtful frown on his face. “But a video already made its way on the internet. It’s only a matter of time before MI6 and the Russians find out too.”

The internet made keeping secrets from the world harder than ever. The Cardinal was surprised the Americans could keep something that big under wraps, but he wondered for how long.

They could hide a village’s destruction, but not a roaming monster.

The photo showed an abomination straight out of the deepest pits of Hell. A white-skinned, faceless beast lifting a car as easily as a chair. The arms were abnormally long, and a luminous light glowed where the face should have been. Considering the height difference with the man it crushed underfoot, the monster had to be six meters tall at the very least. A shroud of blue mist surrounded it like swirling winds.

All his life Andreas had only ever seen the hand of man at work. But that thing… what could it be but a true demon of flesh and blood, as described in the Holy Scriptures?

“This is Satan’s work,” Andreas declared firmly. “A demon.”

“This was a man, Father,” Ambrosio replied grimly, sending shivers down the Cardinal’s spine. “Keep reading.”

Andreas skimmed the report’s content, summarizing it out loud. It helped him memorize information. “Stanford, Nevada, two-hundred and two inhabitants. On its way to becoming a ghost town since their iron mine dried up. Half of them are dead or missing, and the other half in government custody.”

The event happened on November 14th, six days before the report reached the Cardinal. According to survivors, the monster had burst out of the local clinic at around seven and a half in the evening, and gone on a rampage. The beast tore men apart with its bare hands, and breathing the mist that followed in its wake turned people feral. By the time survivors managed to contact the authorities and the government quarantined the area, the monster had escaped into the Mojave Desert.

The lack of internet and telephone coverage had made it hard for the government to respond quickly, but easy to cover it up afterward. Always the same pattern.

“All the previous incidents took place in similarly isolated areas,” the Cardinal noted.

“But never with such deadly consequences,” Ambrosio replied. “The monster is out there, and the USA’s government hasn’t caught it yet. It won’t stay hidden forever.”

“No, it won’t.” Whoever was responsible was getting bolder, more reckless. Andreas flipped the page, until he found the picture of a thuggish-looking man so skinny, that the Cardinal wondered if he suffered from malnutrition. “James Poole?”

“Some dirt poor repairman,” Ambrosio said. “He was due to receive a second shot of Tetanus vaccine, after the first was found to be a placebo. The town’s doctor, Jason Hopfield, was supposed to receive him at seven and thirty.”

The report indicated that the doctor’s body had been found in the wreckage, gutted chin to groin like a fish.

“Both the vaccines came from a private company called New H,” Ambrosio continued. “You know the Americans, they always mistrust their healthcare. Some think their government puts microchips in them, and so they look for ‘alternative’ sources.”

A microchip would have been a kinder fate than turning into a monster. Andreas offered a prayer to both the doctor and patient. “What do we know of this company?”

“Little, except that that paper trail leads nowhere.”

The Cardinal grit his teeth. “So it’s another dead end?”

“Not quite,” Ambrosio said, as his superior flipped the report’s pages. “The town’s sheriff took a picture of the vaccine’s deliverer. Something about her behavior unsettled him.”

Her.

That woman again.

Andreas quickly found her photo, and scowled. It was her, short black hair, blue eyes, eminently plain, thirty-something. She had worn a cap when she made that delivery, but it was the clearest picture of her that the Malleus Maleficarum had found so far.

November 14th, November 14th… A doubt wormed its way into the Cardinal’s mind. “At which hour was this photo taken?” he asked his fellow priest. “Universal Time Coordinated?”

“One AM UTC, I think.”

Torque closed the file, clenching his jaw. “Inquisitor Silus sighted her near an illegal laboratory in an Uzbekistan frontier town at two AM UTC, before he went silent.”

They hadn’t yet recovered the body, but though the Cardinal prayed for his agent’s survival, he knew better than to expect it. The laboratory had turned into a smoking ruin by the time reinforcements arrived, with Silus nowhere to be found.

Ambrosio registered the words and frowned. “Are you sure it was her?”

“Silus’ description matched that photo.” The agent had been tracking that individual down for a year, since she had been sighted during the Burning Woman incident in Tajikistan.

“How can a woman move between two sides of the Earth within an hour?”

“Or she was in two places at once.” Who was that woman? What was that woman? Some kind of witch or demon? “Have you used our facial recognition software on the photo?”

“Yes, and it came up with a name,” Ambrosio replied. Though most priests were too old to understand new technology, the Malleus Maleficarum had invested heavily in them, to always keep an advantage. “Combined with the previous sketches, the program came up with a name: Eva Fabre.”

Eva Fabre, Eva Fabre... The name sounded familiar. Thankfully, Andreas had a prodigious memory, and he quickly remembered where it came from. “The GEIPAN French files,” he said. “The Antarctica mass-suicide of 1992.”

The French kept a not-so-secret archive about UFOs sightings, and Andreas heard rumors that they intended to make a few of the files public… but none of the truly interesting ones, of course.

France might have split from the Catholic Church a century ago, but the Faith still had friends in high places. A French general had shared with the Malleus Maleficarum a copy of the GEIPAN files, some of them were quite disturbing.

penguins... but Torque knew for a fact that France once had a second,

of December 12th, 1992, Station Orpheon contacted the French Ministère de la Défense to inform them of a peculiar event,” Andreas whispered. “The scientists saw a flash of purple light in the skies, and then an unidentified object crashing in a glacier nearby. The French authorities had

and infected the staff. The soldiers thought it had been an accident, until they checked the radios and found them sabotaged.

government quietly covered up the incident, and after five years of searching for the missing scientist, closed the file. Eva Fabre had probably caused the outbreak before killing herself, they figured. Isolation drove men and women mad. Neither had the investigators found any trace of a meteorite impact, not even with satellite surveillance. The event had joined the other strange tales of the GEIPAN

his garment for a photo, which he handed to his superior. Torque raised an eyebrow, before comparing it to the sheriff’s

but she hadn’t aged in nearly twelve

Cardinal

inside the

more luck with the vehicle used for the delivery,” Ambrosio explained. “It was purchased through an American shell company, owned by a

lab in Uzbekistan. “Find someone and make them talk,” Andreas ordered.

administrators could be… open to collaborating

sake

of

his agent told him the amount.

expensive than ever nowadays, Father Torque. Supply

to ask for his help then.” Thankfully, he was the next appointment.

I may ask, Inquisitor-General… what

“and that’s what I’m afraid of. Communists, terrorists, they’re all humans

think time

isn’t hiding anymore. His Holiness will perish soon, and then there will be a time of crisis.

us,” Ambrosio prayed before taking his leave, leaving the

sight of God’s hand reaching for the first man. He pondered

with nothing to tie them together. Nothing, except the fact they happened in isolated areas, and the same woman had been sighted in three of the cases. Then people started vanishing in the

test subjects found inside. Some had extra organs, or limbs, and all were

Serbian war criminal in his own home, only for authorities to learn that the killer had been made of bolts and wires. Sarajevo suffered from unexplained earthquakes, people swearing that

And now this?

picture, the trend that united all these events into a

Tests.

that made sense to Andreas Torque, though he couldn’t understand whatever

was a threat to the world’s natural order, and she

Eva Fabre before she claimed more victims. He would listen to her tale, let her confess her sins so that she might earn absolution from the

half a dozen mob wars, a titan in a red suit bought with drug money. The Cardinal could almost hear the blood dripping

“Janus,” the Cardinal said.

man answered with a shark-like glint

invited the mafioso

in the classical art gallery,” the mob boss

Augusti was a godless man, but he served the Lord all

looking down on the seated priest. Though many men would have shaken in dread at this man’s presence,

Cardinal took a deep breath, having hoped not

will have your funds. If you clean

cause. The Malleus Maleficarum needed a black budget, independent from the Holy City’s finances to maintain plausible deniability. It was a dirty job, but all was forgiven

he knew about the Vatican’s secret activities the better. Andreas could tell that if he let this man sink his claws into the organization, he would corrupt it as he did with many others. His influence over the Neapolitan

smelled weakness like how a shark could detect blood from miles away. “The situation must be dire for you to

“The Lord protects me.”

A blasphemous boast, but the man was not to be underestimated. He had filled entire cemeteries, cementing his empire of sin with blood and tears. “But I am genuine. You

as your wife’s confessor, but you are a necessary evil as far as I am concerned, Janus,” the Cardinal replied. “Let’s

say? I suppose it is appropriate. I do separate the worthy from the unworthy. Truly good and strong men wouldn’t need my

didn’t miss the not-so-subtle taunt. “Do you think

but I do wonder what your pope would think upon seeing us together. Somehow I doubt he

his resolve was slightly

“So long as you clean the blood off my family’s money so

ignored the taunt, remaining

boss’ face softened. “She asked me for a

is wise beyond her

would you have me do,

I never had

searched inside his suit. “Speaking of gifts,

priest, who caught it on instinct and immediately frowned

the mob boss replied with a smile. “I heard you were interested in…

smile appeared at the

used drugs in an attempt to contact the higher realms of existence, and the Cardinal had wondered if perhaps they had stumbled on to something. He had

Did he have the Cardinal under

all a power game of some

trash can. If you truly are the good man you believe yourself to be, you will.” His

Andreas alone with

were inside the Vatican, looking for

through, he knew. None of his agents had been able

iron pillars had risen from beneath Sarajevo and half a dozen other cities in the Balkans,

Lord had mercifully recalled him to spare him the horror ahead. Father Ambrosio had perished too, but his demise had been less kind.

had never imagined. Couldn’t

days, before the Church could stop the worldwide distribution. They had known. They had known all along and

six months ago, Andreas Torque was already

they were many. The others were catspaws, dupes, tools to provide her with money and equipment, but never trusted, never knowing anything. She had hired hundreds of companies to make the deliveries, none of them aware that they carried bottled poison to millions across the world. He had tried to

was not human

Was she ever?

gone to Augustus. It all made sense now. Who better than a fiend in human skin to

for the gun beneath his black garment, and he pointed it at the barred door. The noise on the other side stopped. Had they heard him? Did

blue light

suits with strange weapons that looked like rifles made of both flesh and metal. They all were her, but not exactly the same either. Some had eyes of a different color, others

tried to hide the

only one of them spoke. “That was my name once,” she said, her voice

the legion at bay by threatening them

but you are onto something. There are demons out there, Father. But they are not below our feet.” Some of them looked at the ceiling.

burns on the left side of her face. “In other worlds, they already

What was this madness? “Stay back!” Andreas warned, his finger nearly pulling

the universal master race, mankind must evolve,” one of the mad women said, so close he could almost feel her breath. “Surpass the theory of natural selection, and enter

Fabre added, her

pulled the trigger, and shot

particles, as

were onto him immediately afterward. He thrashed and shot and raged, but in the end, they forced him to his knees and disarmed him. They searched his garment for hidden weapons, and only found the drug Augustus gave