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The Pursuit of God Unlocks Many Unwanted Doors
Darkness loomed over the small town of Illyria. It once was a prosperous farming town
whose local government was fueled by their yearly harvest. The Illyrians led a simple life, but
they weren’t slackers. Each year they worked tirelessly to make the year’s harvest profitable and
it always paid off until recently. This year’s harvest yielded very little and what little they had
was confiscated by their local government as payment for their taxes. The mayor had decided he
would take food as payment so that he could insure his luxurious life would go undisturbed. Any
refusal to pay was met with serious consequences. The mayor had promised the police that so
long as they enforced his new tax increase, he in turn would make sure their families would all
receive a cut of what was collected. Leaving Illyria would only make matters worse. The entire
nation was in the midst of depression. There was little to go around, but a great need for a lot.
This left the citizens of Illyria isolated and with very little further grounding the idea that they
were now living in a new Great Depression.
In times of need such as this usually inflate churches’ attendance. Many seek God’s help
to lift them from such harsh times, but not the citizens of Illyria. They always had been a Godfearing people. Many thought God was merely testing them like he had tested Job in the biblical
tales. If they would just wait then God would surely liberate them from this intense suffering.
Father Frank, the town’s religious leader, firmly held this belief and tried to convince the others
as well. For a while it sustained the masses, but as time went on and the depression continued
some began to believe God had left them. Why else would they be punished so cruelly for their
faith and loyalty? This theory gained more and more ground each day until Father Frank himself
had his doubts about God’s presence. This depression stole so much from the Illyrians and some
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of them sought to do something about it. Knowing it would only be suicide to try to take on the
mayor with the police as his lap dogs, the Illyrians sought other means to improve their fortune.
They turned to the arcane for help like so many others had before. One of the Illyrians managed
to acquire a certain book that would force their questions to be answered and would allow them
to summon someone or something to help them. The Key of Solomon, the greatest of all the
grimoires, a magic tome written by King Solomon of Israel. It has the power to summon any of
God’s angels or Lucifer’s demons. All had to answer the calls of this text of magic including
Heaven’s most powerful servants, the Archangels. As long as the ritual contained within the
book was performed right then any creation, no matter how powerful, had to come forth into
man’s dimension.
As the town’s religious leader, the Illyrians informed Father Frank of their plans. They
wanted his blessings to proceed with their plans to summon something, but most of all they
wanted his assistance. Father Frank told the Illyrians that he would “graciously” help them. He
insisted on being the one to actually perform the summoning. “We are all suffering, my friends.
It is the only way to get what we want. We must restore Illyria to its former glory!” Father Frank
told the Illyrians at church on Sunday. In truth, Father Frank didn’t necessarily care about Illyria
or the people. The old monster had been stealing from the donations given to the church ever
since he arrived in Illyria three years ago. Recently he had to spend a little more to obtain food,
but he was not left hungry like so many others. The old devil was only doing this for the power.
If he could trick the Illyrians into giving him the Key of Solomon and if it actually worked, he
could control whatever they summoned to do his bidding. An opportunity such as this he could
not pass up. He could make himself god if he so chose.
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Only one person spoke out against the use of the Key of Solomon, Christopher Sane.
“This is preposterous!” he proclaimed. “We cannot commit such a sin. We would become
blasphemers. Who knows what that book will want us to do and what price it will come at. We
don’t even know if what it says is true. Don’t get me wrong, I wanna help my family as much as
the rest of yall, but that can’t be the answer.”
“How naïve you are, Christopher” Father Frank said putting his hand on Chris’ shoulder.
“We are suffering and we have within our grasps the means to solve all of our problems.”
“You would be condemning us all if you do this” Chris responded pushing Father Frank’s
hand off his shoulder. Chris never liked Father Frank. He knew there was something off about
the man, but he never had anything to prove what he suspected.
“Is that how you see this?!” Father Frank retaliated with anger. “You believe we are
blasphemers for wanting God’s help?!”
“That isn’t…”
“I am sorry Christopher that not all of us have as little to worry about as you do. Some of
the people here have families they need to look out for. What do you have? You have a brother
and the last time I saw him he was not looking as weak as the rest of us!” Father Frank’s words
had gotten the parish into a frenzy. Anger quickly consumed their faces. They stared at Chris
with such hate and disgust. These folks that Chris had known all his life were ready to turn on
him.
“Listen, friends…I am in just as much trouble as the rest of yall. Please just calm down
and together we can think of something. I beg of you please! Don’t do this! These are your
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eternals souls that you are going to risk because of tough times!” Chris pointed at Father Frank.
“Do not listen to his lies! He will damn us all!”
Chris’ words didn’t pierce the veil of anger consuming the crowd. Father Frank had the
cockiest grin; he knew he was in control. The people looked to Father Frank for guidance. “Take
him, my flock! He shall be a present to the greatest of all the angels! Saint Michael the
Archangel will be pleased with our sacrifice!” Father Frank shouted just before the Illyrians
attacked Chris. They beat him like he was a misbehaving child. In a matter of minutes Chris was
beaten to a bloody pulp and knocked unconscious. They locked him in the basement of the
church where they would perform the ritual just three days from now on September 29th, the day
recorded as “Michaelmas” in the Key of Solomon; the day easiest to summon Michael.
The book had specified a list of things that must be assembled in order to attempt to
summon Michael. The price was steep, but the Illyrians deemed it a suitable exchange to
summon such a great being. Twenty-two children were amongst the requirements. Not one of the
Illyrians spoke out in protest for such a requirement. Twenty-two innocent souls were seen as
“suitable” to these people. “The children would be going to a better place”, the people assured
themselves. Gathering the children for the sacrifice was all too easy. They had picked them up
from the town’s orphanage earlier that day. Cathy Damico was in charge of the orphanage and
was a willing participant of the ritual. Acquiring the children was “easy”. They told the children
that they were going on a field trip so they would come with them willingly.
The Illyrians chained the children together and doused them in holy water, frankincense,
and myrrh. They drew around the children’s feet exactly what was in the Key of Solomon. It was
a massive and complex cube known as “Metatron’s Cube”, recorded to be one of the symbols for
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life. Some of the children were weeping and begging to be released, but all their crying was for
naught. They would never be let go, not with the Illyrians’ plans this far. The rest of the
children’s expressions were full of hate for the Illyrians. They knew they would not live through
the night. Hebrew symbols were drawn around the cube completing the preparations for the
ritual. “Do not be afraid, children”, spoke Father Frank. “You will be going to a better place. We
are delivering you into the arms of God. We chose you to be the first to receive salvation.
Rejoice!” Chris lay chained and gagged on the floor. He could only watch what was about to
come to pass.
Father Frank started reciting the summoning spell when Metatron’s cube instantly reacted
by glowing in response. All at once the crying had stopped. The children looked upward with
pure white eyes. Their mouths were hanging open and they began humming along with the spell
as it were a song. Suddenly the children melded together and expanded outwards to the farthest
reaches of the cube. They became a massive ball of flesh and faces. The humming continued
uninterrupted. The Illyrians were horrified upon seeing such a thing, but none of them tried to
stop Father Frank. Chris struggled to get free, but his eyes were fixed on the horrible beauty of
the abomination. Mere moments later the humming ceased, but instead it was moaning as if it
were in agony. Still this wasn’t enough to make Father Frank stop. He continued the spell
believing he would get answers.
As the spell went on, the grotesque ball of flesh began to take shape. The shape was not
humanoid at all. It now made sense as to why so many children were needed for the summoning;
the form it was taking on was massive. The shape of several sets of wings was formed, long
slender arms jutted out, a long snake-like tail shot out, and a pair of clawed feet formed all from
the ball of flesh. The head was the final piece to be formed. If this was the archangel Michael,
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then he had a snout like some kind of beast or serpent. The shape of this creature was monstrous,
nothing like what they had expected. This thing was a beast, not a man with dove-like wings.
This thing completed its shape when Father Frank finished the spell. Although it had completed
its form, it still wore the flesh and faces of the children over itself. The creature remained
completely still after Father Frank finished.
“A-Are you Saint Michael the Archangel?” Father Frank called out to the creature. The
creature did not react to Father Frank’s question. Father Frank was sweating furiously while he
was gazing upon the creature. “E-Excuse me…Are you…”
“Silence human!” the creature spoke in a commanding and deep voice. The creature
turned its head almost as if it were directly looking at Father Frank. “I am he….!”
“Y-you’re M-Michael?”
“Yes…I am the Archangel Michael, he who is of God! The first creature in all of creation
to exist! The first to gaze upon God and all of God’s creation!”
Father Frank pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his brow. “Well let me start
by saying it’s an honor to gaze upon you, your holiness.”
“What is it you desire from me, beast?”
“W-W-Well you see, your holiness, we want to know why it is that…” Father Frank
swallowed his saliva very heavily. “…why it is that God has abandoned us?”
What looked like a smile could be made out on Michael’s face. Even under the skin one
could see the razor sharp teeth that lined his smile. If a shark could smile then that is what
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Michael looked like. “Oh…what a brave question to ask. Why do you believe God has
abandoned you?”
“Our town is failing, people are starving. We want to know why we are made to suffer
when it is we who worship God and follow his teachings better than any of the other. He does
not intervene! He must’ve abandoned us! It is the only reason as to why we weren’t saved!”
Michael was silent. One could not tell if he had no response or waiting to respond.
Father Frank grew furious, or as furious as a man could staring down a large, monstrous
being of divine origin. “Y-Yo-You must answer me! I summoned you with the Key of Solomon!”
Michael stuck its snout to the farthest point of the cube closest to Father Frank. “Do not
speak to me as if you are above me, beast! I said you were brave. This does not mean you hold
dominion over me!” Father Frank’s knees were shaking. He was feeling as he would collapse at
any moment. Had it not been for Metatron’s cube confining Michael to the space within surely
Michael would’ve done more than raise his voice. “But you are right. God has abandoned us all.
The humans were not the only ones he left, but fret not. I believe we can help each other. I know
what you truly desire, Father Frank.”
“Y-You know me?”
“Yes, I have known your plans to summon me for quite some time now. I know what you
truly desire and I will grant you your desire and by doing so you can help your people of you so
wish.”
“You would grant me the power?”
“Yes....”
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Father Frank turned to face his people. They all had the shared look of a deer staring
down headlights right before that pivotal moment it is struck. “Listen to me, my people! Michael,
the Archangel has agreed to elevate me to godhood!” The Illyrians whispered about Father
Frank’s blasphemous words. “Do not worry! Once I have the power I will save our town! We
will have to worry no longer! I will usher all of you into Eden!” Silence took hold of the people
again. Father Frank knew he had them. He only needed to say a bit more. “I swear to you my
people. I will always be with you and I will always take care of you.” The hearts of the Illyrians
allied themselves with Father Frank’s desire. He could feel it.
Facing Michael once again Father Frank asked, “What must I do for you, great one?” He
was overjoyed and was willing to do anything this great being would ask of him.
“Release me…” Michael responded
“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“This symbol keeps me bound to the confines of it. If you wish for me to help you then
all you need do is break the symbol…Break it and I shall be free to move on this realm just as
any of you.”
Father Frank looked down at the symbol and saw what Michael had said was true. He did
not move from within the cube. He looked back up at this monstrous being and for whatever
reason felt secure. He walked over to the cube. He did not believe Michael would lie to him.
He’s an angel, more than that he’s an archangel. He would do as he promised. He represents
purity because he was of Heaven’s hierarchy. Michael could and would grant his desire for
power. Father Frank put his foot over one of the lines of the cube. He erased part of a line,
releasing Michael from the cube’s power.
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“Thank you…pitiful beast!” The flesh over Michael tore right off him like the skin of an
embryo revealing a pure white form matching the monstrous shape. He looked like a dragon…he
looked like a…serpent. All the Illyrians besides Father Frank instantly burst into flames, not
even Chris was spared the wrath of the almighty Michael. His wrath was just and without
prejudice. They let out screams of unimaginable torment as they quickly met their horrible end.
“This is not what we agreed! You said you would give me power!” Father Frank
screamed. He was helpless in the face of this godly being. He was terrified at what he had just
unleashed. He had the expression of a terrified child.
“I am giving you power…you will be the king of ash, the master of aftermath.”
“Y-You can’t do that! I summoned you to help me, not to destroy me!”
“It is the price you pay for unlocking the door to your world! Your pursuit of God has led
you to the end, you blasphemers! I will insure your followers suffer eternal torment for what you
have done! As for you, you will never die, no matter what happens. I deny you death until I have
finished with this world. You all have soiled my father’s creation, but no more! You shall be the
last to meet thy end, oh great king of ash! I will allow you to stew in what you have done before
I come to collect you. Your torments in death shall be one of my greatest works.” Michael spread
his wings and took off tarring through the church, leaving Father Frank alone with the piles of
ash that were his followers. He fell to his knees weeping.