End of days 13

I throw off the drug’s paralysis like an old skin. As I take out the two lieutenants, the office bursts into flames – white from my sword, black from the howling abyss into which they plummet. The Director roars in anger and falls on me with all the infernal powers of Hell and Death, but my blade withstands him.

At once the air around us is filled with the clamour of fighting spirits, an eternity’s war now centred on one small room in a hospital annex. The walls can’t hold it of course; they shatter as a shock wave courses through the building, flattening everything in its path. Amidst the falling masonry, sheets of driving rain quench the black fires.

And then with one last blow he is down, teetering on the edge of the chasm that gapes to receive him. I meet his eyes and we share a moment of understanding, both of us knowing that our parts have been played, that what was written long ago on dusty old parchments has now come to pass. He falls and I seal the grating that lies over the pit.

I slump exhausted to the office floor. Sirens wail in the distance.