Chapter 5: 5: Another Vision

The first thing I see in my dream is a beautiful golden apple flying in front of my face.

The second thing I see is a woman grabbing it from below, her black hair swaying as if she is at the bottom of the sea, her dress is at the same time purple, red, and transparent—something meaningless.

I try to see the woman’s face, but it is empty. No, on the contrary, it has too much information; the face of the woman in front of me is constantly changing: the face of my mother, her gentle smile, her black eyes, then the face of an old teacher of mine, an old man, proud of his white hair, the face of a librarian, the face of a celebrity. In addition to female faces, it also assumes male faces—the current president of the United States, a former monk, an old bearded man.

I cannot understand the face of that being; the constant changes prevent that. Then, it speaks. "Watch." It is the only word addressed to me before it disappears, invading my mind as an absolute order.

The golden apple shines and blinds me with a bright golden light. I cover my eyes until the light disappears. When I open my eyes, I see the end.

I am flying above the Colosseum in Rome, the most famous landmark. It should be the reason I manifest there in my dream. I look around; the sky is black as night, but it also burns like fire. Flames fall from the sky like rain, countless houses are on fire. In the distance, I see the Roman Forum and the Domus Aurea, also on fire.

Screams echo through the city and reach my ears. I don’t need to look at the source of this chaos to know what is happening.

“Demons,” the word escapes my lips. Then the figure from before appears flying beside me.

“Brought into the world by those who should stop them,” The voice is definitely frightening; the sound presses my body, my spirit almost breaks with fear. I feel my form tremble, as if it wants to dissipate. I take a deep breath to stabilize myself and look towards the base of the aforementioned.

The Vatican is in flames, the central square burns in blue flames. Around the great cathedral, breaths of sulfur rise to the heavens, but there is something more frightening.

The House of God dwells in the sky, but for its enemies to face its walls, they must not be below the earth. So evil also dwells in another layer of the sky, and that is what I am seeing.

A great black mountain is stuck in the sky, its tip being the closest part to the Earth. Countless demons fly from the mountain above the Vatican. There is also a pillar of crimson energy coming out of the tip and invading the ground.

I focus my vision, trying to identify the silhouettes in the distance. I see a five-pointed flaming star facing a large golden bull, a green man armed with a rifle shooting at a blue owl, a large colorless peacock escaping arrows from a cherub riding a dragon, a gray whale colliding with a snow-white serpent.

“How did this happen?” I direct my eyes to the woman—no, now it is a flaming orb, which soon changes into the form of a man shrouded in clouds.

“The great apostles, who are supposed to be the chief barrier of this world, freed evil by their worldly desires,” The figure holds out his right hand in front of me, the golden apple emerging once more, its light becoming like a television screen.

“See the culprit,” The being is no longer a man, but a shapeless mass of various colored liquids—that is, paint. I face the image.

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In the apple, I see a woman in her forties; her hair is red, her left eye is gray and blind, her face is burned, her clothes are shabby. I stare at the shapeless mass of paint—no, now it is a large meatball. Its voice echoes in my mind, once again making my form tremble.

“This woman’s name is Cassiel; at present, she is a mere Baptizer, but in the future, she shall become the twelfth apostle, the one who always brings ruin to the world,” The being returns to the feminine form, but this time the face is mine. Her features are soft, her lips thin, her eyes green, her skin is pale, her hair is yellowed, and a spherical scar marks her left cheek.

“Why are you showing me this? Who are you anyway?!” I raise my right hand towards the being. A dark mass forms in my right hand; of course, I have no chance of hurting that being.

With the mere movement of a finger, my body becomes completely paralyzed. The voice of that entity then crushes my body.

“My name is not relevant, but the reason is simple: prevent this ending because this is the will of the heavens. Summon the one who knows everything about the seas,” The being snaps its fingers and I wake up.

This dream occurs to me about three months ago. My name is Wéilái, a seer of the Sacred Palace of Beijing, born with the talent of prophetic dreams. Since I have this dream, I search for a way to prevent it. The conclusion I reach? I will destroy the entire Vatican organization, and for this, I will control the power of the Sea.

For this, I travel to the city of Venice; for this, I have killed seven people so far. And in front of me is my eighth victim, lying on a stone tablet in the middle of an altar, wrapped in bonds of darkness that imprison her and keep her in a deep sleep.

Her identity? A poor seven-year-old child, captured by me while she is returning from school. A person who barely lives is about to be sacrificed to summon a beast from the depths of hell. To summon evil, the good must be dyed with darkness; the heart of a child is necessary to summon one of the seventy-two beasts.

I turn my back; I stand in a tomb that I take as a base in the cemetery of St. Michele, made by my hands below the ground and water. Scattered throughout the corridor of the tomb are nine altars: five on the right and four on the left. Seven of them have organs wrapped in black orbs stored.

It makes me want to vomit; I am using human lives as tools to destroy even more lives. In order to prevent the end of all life, my goal is noble, but my methods? Worthy of repulsion.

I turn again to that child. Her hair is blond, her skin pale and delicate, her arms are thin. Kidnapped at random, she will die at random.

“Is that what the gods want?” I walk away, down that corridor, the shadows of that tomb lit by torches of purple flames. I open the large door at the end of the corridor and walk through it, reaching another corridor that leads me to my workshop.

As I enter the workshop, I see several black wolves lying all over the floor. Yoguais are on guard at that place. I go to a nearby bucket and throw some pieces of meat to them.

With them fed, I go to my desk to work. A golden string is loose on the table, next to it, brushes, yellow papers, and jars of red paint. I sit on a chair and start painting on the yellow fabric, painting a protective Fulu. It will take approximately three minutes to complete it. When I finish, I stand up.

I walk again to the sacrificial room, where I sit down in the middle and place the Fulu on my forehead, then begin a prayer.

“Guǐ, Liǔ, Xīng, Zhāng, Yì, Zhěn, the great bird that guards the twenty-four mansions of the south, the house of the ghost, come to me and guide me, Zhuque,” I seek to summon the power of the crimson bird of the south as a guide. A red flame appears in front of me.

I stare at that red flame, sketching a smile on my face because it works. The flame then moves in the air. I follow that little blaze; it flies up to the child's body at the altar and lights it up, the heat of the fire marking the skin of her forehead.

“Do I really have to?” I already know it will be like this; I just don’t want to accept it. I really have to kill this child to save the world.

I fall to my knees in front of the altar, a tear flows from my right eye. I look at my hands; they are shaking.

“Please forgive me...” I take a deep breath and stand up, my legs wobbling. Each person I have killed so far has a reason; I can’t forget that. It’s to save the world, to save everyone.

I look up at the ceiling of that tomb, move my right hand to my face to wipe away the tears, and proclaim, “Zhuque, Qinglong, Baihu, and Genbu, I swear by my soul to the four cardinal points that I will fulfill my duty. I will prevent the coming of Hell!” A golden light envelops my body and then disappears; the soul oath is taken.

I turn and cross the corridor again. I still have two people left to kill; for the good of the world, I will do it in twenty-four hours.