Deadly Part Seven: Wrath (Revelations)

 “Fine, get out!” Andy screamed at the door that had just closed behind his soon-to-be-ex-wife. To fully express his rage, he threw a nearby vase at the door, as well, where it shattered.

Amy was the second wife to up and leave him with no warning. She said something about anger issues, but he didn’t have any goddamned anger issues! He went around the house, finding pictures of her and throwing them around.

His first wife, Teresa, took their son Blake with her, and Amy took their daughter Ophelia. Being peripherally aware of the bruises he had inflicted on his wives and children, he did not expect to see any of them again.

When the neighbor came knocking, wanting to know if he was okay, he screamed at the man to mind his own damned business and slammed the door in his face.

He needed to hit somebody, preferably a total stranger. Dissatisfied with all the venting he had already done, he headed to the nearest bar.

In the smoky, whisky-scented air, he flagged down the bartender and ordered a beer. This one he pounded, then ordered another. He nursed the second bottle for a while, looking around the room for a human punching bag.

He saw a man, maybe five-six, that couldn’t weigh but a buck fifty. He was sitting politely on a stool, keeping his elbows to himself and sipping on something that could have just been tonic water with a twist of lemon in it. A perfect target.

Setting his beer bottle down, Andy went around the bar toward the man as though headed to the lavatory. But when he reached the poor scrawny bastard, he deliberately body-checked him, spilling his drink. Andy started to say “Keep out of the way!” but before he could, the man shouted “Watch where you’re going, asshole!”

Andy was shocked. Nobody had ever stood up to him since he became the school bully at the age of six. When he got big enough, he even intimidated his parents. The man’s aggressive reaction threw him for a moment.

Then he realized that he now had an excuse to throw a punch. He went in with his right, aiming for the jaw, but the man put up a hand and caught his fist while still staring Andy down. The man’s hand didn’t give a millimeter; it was like punching a brick wall.

When his fist encountered the other’s hand, everything around them faded to black, and the man still holding his fist changed. Now he was nine feet tall, with the head of a bull above the torso of a man. His skin was the same red of dying embers, and flames flickered up from his eyes and along his horns. The goatee hanging from his chin was made of fire that somehow burned upside-down. He was wearing a black leather kilt and bare from the waist up. His beast-like legs ended in cloven hooves. His face was twisted into a permanent snarl. When he spoke, his voice sounded hoarse but demanding, blaring directly into Andy’s brain.

“We need to talk, Andrew Ray Rhodes. You are guilty of the sin of Wrath. You are being given one last chance to change your ways before you are damned. Come and see the future your wrath has earned for you, and the future you will find if you accept this offer.”

Behind the minotaur was a wall of flame the size of a doorway. The beast walked through the fire. Andy, his legs operating by themselves, followed.

On the other side was a large, bright room with a circle of people sitting in chairs. Andy was talking.

“…second wife left me and I almost burned the whole house down. I knew I needed to get help before I raged myself into an ulcer or a heart attack. I’m so tired of being angry and afraid. I want to stop and appreciate the good things in life.”

Then the woman to his right spoke.

“My name is Lana, and I have a terrible temper. I threw a snow globe at my ex-husband and he had to go to the hospital for stitches. I don’t even remember what the fight was about, but I do remember seeing the blood pouring down his face. I was satisfied because I had hurt him the way he had hurt me. But I don’t want to be like this anymore. I’m so alone and I know it’s my own damned fault.”

The Andy in the chair was looking at the woman like she was glowing with angelic light, even after she stopped talking. When the circle broke up, he approached her and asked her out for coffee.

“You marry Lana and she brings out your gentle, caring side,” the minotaur was saying. “She helps you release all of the anger and fear you have held in your heart for decades. The two of you live happily together until you die at the same time in one another’s arms.”

“What happens if I tell you to pound sand?” Andy asked.

“Come and look,” the apparition said.

They walked through a wall and were back in Andy’s living room. He was having the same tantrum he had just thrown, only now he fell to his knees and then tipped over, curled up into a ball, sobbing with rage and misery. Then he started choking and gasping for breath and didn’t stop until Andy saw his own eyes glaze over.

“I’m already dead? Why the hell did you show me all of this if I’m already dead?”

“You still have a chance. If you accept the offer, your neighbor, the one you hate, will find you in time to save your life. What say you, Andy?” He tapped Andy’s forehead with one burning finger.

“This is bullshit. It’s just a dream or something. I’ll be fine; I’ll probably wake up in my own bed in a minute.”

“Very well. Prepare for eternity.”

The wall in front  of Andy vanished. In its place was a red desert with a single large hole dug into it. When he crept up and peeked over the side, he saw three bruisers that looked like the bouncers at a high-end bar gearing up for a fight. One of them had a set of brass knuckles. Another held a baseball bat. He turned back to the embodiment of Wrath.

“I changed my mind!” he cried.

“I’m afraid it’s too late now. Your heart is still and your consciousness vacated. This is all you have left. Enjoy the choice you have made.”

He reached out and tore Andy’s arms from their sockets. There was no pain, and he healed immediately, but now he had no arms with which to defend himself. Then the minotaur in front of him reared back and kicked him directly into the pit.

His neighbor found him the next day, still curled up in the fetal position, cold as a winter stone.