Infinite Testament (14 page)

Stephen gazed at Natalie. “I just need to talk to
someone. I knew you two would be here. I didn’t know where else to
go.”

Stephen placed Lisa’s letter on the counter and
stared at it.
He was stuck in a trance of thought. Being
with Lisa was the happiest he had ever been. In a flash, it was
gone. The promise he had broken irked him everyday.

Suddenly, Stephen was stricken with déjà vu. He had
the strongest inclination he had been here before. These thoughts weren’t
new. These sights-the box on the floor, his wrapped couch-he’d seen
them in this exact configuration before.

Looking at the floor, he noticed a glaring omission: the
ELPIS box was gone. Vanished. Where did it go? He swore he
put it on the floor in front of him before reading Lisa’s letter. But
looking toward the couch, all he could see was the packing box. He got on
his knees and looked under the couch. Looked in the packing box. He
kicked it aside. Nothing.

Stephen walked back toward Lisa’s letter on the
counter. The words, “I love you,” glared at him. Stephen surveyed
the area around the letter. Still nothing. Where could the ELPIS
box have gone?

Stephen would turn around and the ELPIS box would be right
where he left it. He was sure of it. He didn’t know how he
knew. He just knew. He looked back toward the couch. Sure
enough, there it was, right where he thought it would be. Weird. It
was like the ELPIS box got up, left, and came back. He must’ve just
overlooked it. He had a tendency to lose things. But he looked
there. He looked in that
exact
spot.

Stephen snatched up the ELPIS box and unlatched it.

“Don’t give up on me.” Lisa’s words echoed in his
mind. He thought he might be losing it. He gripped the lid of the
box and started to creak it open.

Wait.

There was no point in opening it. He knew what was
inside. Opening the box wouldn’t change anything. It would just
bring more bad memories. More memories he wanted to forget.

He slammed the lid shut, re-latched the box, and tossed it
aside. He would mail it back to Bruce in the morning. He had no use
for it anymore.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

The Final Day-3:25 PM

The man known as X sat in a chair, awaiting the end of the
world he was about to impose. The room was enormously dome-shaped,
fiercely dark, and emanated a thick blue hue. In front of X sat a machine
that occupied almost the entire dome. The machine was a giant clear
circular tube that shot up to the ceiling. In the tube, thick blue fluid
spun around at dizzying speeds. Spinning in the opposite direction was
what appeared to be fire. The blue fluid and bright orange fire fused
together and danced, creating a dazzling spectacle. X watched the marvel
of technology sitting in front of him. It was hard to believe this
machine was going to obliterate every living thing on the planet.

It would be only minutes until the end and X had a front
row seat. He gripped his trademark weapon with sentimentality. It
was a staff he had made, and depending on which way he spun the middle, a blade
would come out of the end of his choosing. He had fought and won in several
battles with this weapon. It was an exhilarating feeling to wield such a
deadly tool and succeed with it. It would have taken the perfect
challenger to stop him. He had close calls, as evidenced by the cast on
his left hand, but he never had the chance to face such a worthy
opponent. X dropped his staff to the ground. It was over. He
had no need for it anymore.

X treaded around the machine, reveling in what he was about
to accomplish. He grazed his hand on the handwritten letters at the base
of the machine: Keres.

It bursted with a deafening noise. X thought his head
might fly right off. The sound reverberated so intensely he fell to the
ground.

“Looks like you did it.”

Who said that? There was no one in the room. X
was alone. But someone was standing over him. He looked up.

It was Sara Ixley. She stood in front of him in full
color; her appearance unaffected by the blue hue highlighting everything in the
room.

X rose to his feet. “Sara?”

He stepped toward her. X was overcome with a mix of
joy and sadness. Tears willfully streamed from his face. “I’ve
missed you so much.” Everything he had done was so he could see her
again. He just didn’t expect it to happen until his next lifetime, when
he would have the chance to re-do his whole life, or so he believed.

Sara held out her hand to X’s face and felt the thick scar
on his left eye. It traveled from above his eye to right below it.
She smiled at him.

The commanding presence X always carried slipped
away. He was now emotionally naked. “I love you, Sara. We’ll
do it differently next time.”

Sara stepped back. The glow emanating from her face
disappeared. She furrowed her brow and grew visibly livid. X
trembled with fear.

Sara declared, “Stephen Pandora was not lying. You
cannot
change things. You’ve made a mistake. You’re going to kill billions
of innocent people. And now it’s too late.”

The machine roared the loudest sound X had ever
heard. He held his hands over his ears. The end of the world was
minutes away.

“My old friend wants to say something to you,” Sara
said. Despite the enormous noise stemming from the machine, X could still
hear. “I’m sorry. But you will never see me again.”

From behind Sara walked a man. The man, like Sara,
was exempt from the blue hue, and retained rich color like he was outside on a
sunny day. Also like Sara, he was dead.

The smiling man emerged and faced X.

3:32 PM

Moros, dressed in rags, stood on Venice Beach, staring at
the ocean. The water rushed under his feet. The roar of the Keres
filled the air and warped the sky to a bright yellow. He had precious
seconds left.

Moros knelt down. He reached into the wet sand below
him. Twenty yards in front of him, a blast of water shot off the ocean
into the sky. On the surface of the ocean, a ring of fire formed.
Only inches high, it blazed in a perfect circle, patiently waiting for
him. The ground rumbled and Moros struggled to maintain his
balance. It was now or never.

Moros looked ahead and took off, sprinting toward the ring
of fire that laid on the water. He didn’t bother running
through
the water. Rather he ran
on
the water. Like it was a simple
surface, Moros’s feet pounded as water splashed up from under them.
Walking on water (or running, in this case) was not as difficult as one might
imagine. Moros had done it plenty of times.

The world started to stretch. This was it. The
ring of fire was just below his feet. He took one last look out at the
horizon and took a deep breath.

Moros jumped down through the ring of fire…

Everyone on the planet was dead. Everyone except
Moros…

The world ended. Again. Tragedy struck.
Again. This is the unfortunate truth of the ILD. How many cycles
had the Universe already been through? That is a question no man could
ever answer. To hope for a change, to hope for a miracle, would be
irrational. The people who killed themselves for a new start did so
foolishly. The fate of the Universe cannot be changed. Alas, the
Universe was reborn and re-experienced its complete history exactly as it had
before.

Thousands of years before Stephen Pandora existed,
somewhere in the desert, were two men. It was a primitive time and the
two wore simple tunics to keep themselves clothed. Their feet were laced
with rugged sandals as they walked through the empty, vast desert. One
man, clearly younger than the other, had short brown hair. His bright,
blue eyes entranced anyone who glared into them. The older man, Andrew,
sported a dirtier appearance with long blonde hair and followed the young man’s
lead.

They spoke in another language:

“I don’t understand what you want from me,” Andrew said to
the young man.

“I don’t want anything but information,” replied the young
charismatic man.

Andrew looked at him suspiciously. He wasn’t going to
give him any information; he didn’t know him and simply didn’t trust him.
The young man impatiently asked, “Do you know who I am?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Andrew naïvely replied.

The ground was rough and swamped with thick sand as they
walked. The sun blared on them, beating their sweaty flesh with scorching
waves of heat that flowed through the air. Unfortunately, they still had
at least a mile to go until they reached their destination.

The young man stopped and grabbed Andrew’s arm. “I am
a member of the committee.” His blue eyes caught the attention of Andrew,
who blankly stared at him. Surprisingly, Andrew had no idea what he was
talking about. The young man couldn’t believe it, “He didn’t tell you
about the committee?”

Andrew pulled his arm away. “I do not know what you
speak of.” He walked ahead without the young man, flustered by the
confusion planted in his mind. The young man ran to catch up with
him. “I want to help you. I just need to know what he’s been
saying… I can tell you the truth. The truth of everything.”

This time it was Andrew who halted the trek through the
desert. He faced the frustrating young man who had been bothering
him. “I no longer care what you have to say.” He glared deep into
his eyes to be sure he knew the severity of his statement. Their
conversation was over.

Andrew walked away, leaving the young man alone. It
was no matter: the young man would find someone who would help him. The
young man, Moros, was not a quitter.

Generations went by.

Bruce Dennett was born in St. Joseph, Michigan and his life
would prove instrumental in bringing about the end of the world. Bruce
lived a different kind of life. Where Stephen’s life was full of the
search for answers, Bruce’s was about unexplainable occurrences. He
stumbled into one too many mysteries.

Bruce lay on his back on a grassy knoll with Kristen at his
side. It was a beautiful spring day. They had only known each other
for a few weeks but he was already considering moving in with her. Deep
down, though, the two of them were jealous of the connection Stephen and Lisa
had made. Stephen and Lisa were plainly perfect for each other, and while
Bruce and Kristen longed to be with one another, it just wasn’t the same.
With enough work, perhaps they could truly
love
each other.

Bruce and Kristen held hands as they gazed at the clouds
floating by above. Abstract visions of a million things came to
life. Bruce had always been a fan of cloud watching. The clouds
offered endless possibilities that would change every few seconds.
Imagination was as big a factor as the physical clouds themselves. One
cloud could produce different images to a handful of people. And to Bruce,
that was the grand appeal. Floating above him was a heart-shaped
cloud. How appropriate, he thought.

Kristen wasn’t as interested in the clouds. She was
annoyed by Bruce’s silence. “Hey Bruce,” she said. “What’s in the
box?”

Bruce reluctantly took his attention from the clouds and
gave it to Kristen. Exactly what she wanted. He rolled onto his
side and caressed her face with his finger. “What box?”

Her brow wrinkled. “You know which one. The
Elvis box.”

Bruce laughed. Elvis? Apparently ELPIS was too
hard to remember. What a ditz. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not? Why do you always have to be so secretive?”

Bruce remained silent and stared into her eyes. She
waited for a response. It didn’t come. “I asked you a question,
Bruce.”

“Huh?”

Kristen sighed and rolled over, leaving Bruce to stare at
her glowing blonde hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s between me and
Stephen.”

Bruce massaged her scalp, hoping to loosen her up.
She continued, “It’s not just that. You’re secretive about a lot of
things. You won’t tell me anything.”

“Okay, how about if I give you a hint?”

“No, Bruce. This isn’t about Elvis.”

Elvis! He did his best not to burst into
laughter. He cracked, “No kidding.”

Bruce had to keep it a secret.
If
Stephen knew he was headed back into the forest the day after the cult
incident, he would be pissed. Earlier in the day at school, they learned
that Ixley was the cult leader thanks to a rather large bruise on the side of
his face. Bruce was hesitant to invite Stephen after he barely made it
out the night before. The follow-up mission was best suited as a solo
undertaking.

Bruce stood in the heart of the forest in broad daylight, a
nice change of pace from the night before. Also nice was the fact that he
could make as much noise as he wanted. As far as he knew, there were no
cult members around. He hiked through the forest, looking for the spot
where the ritual took place. Around him were endless batches of
trees. With higher visibility, he was able to see the millions of leaves
littered on the ground. Twigs and sharp bark were scattered everywhere,
creating a tightly woven maze. Their navigation the night before became
apparently impressive.

Bruce spotted the ritual zone lying a couple yards in front
of him. He surveyed the ground around him, realizing how familiar the
area was. It was where he saved Stephen from cult-leader Ixley. Or
Mr
.
Ixley as he demanded to be called. Bruce leaned over and picked up a
log. With great satisfaction, he smiled. The log in his hand was
the exact one he used to smack Ixley in the face, he was sure of it. What
a nice keepsake.

Gripping the log, Bruce entered the cult area. The
forest floor was flattened. In the middle of the open space, where the
fire had presumably presided, an X was formed out of twigs and branches.
Around the X was a circle formation. It was an intricate design that
must’ve taken a good amount of time to configure. Bruce stepped into the
circle, which was strangely illuminated from the sun above. The trees
were parted, leaving the area perfectly open and exposed to the sunlight.
It was probably why the cult picked the spot. Bruce looked at the outset
of the circle, imagining the cult members standing in their Christ-like
positions. “Redeo!” they shouted over and over again.

Bruce laughed. The sight of them ducking for cover as
fireworks exploded around them was one he would never forget.

Under his feet, he stared at the X formation of
branches. The first idea that came to mind was
dig
. X
usually marked the spot right? Bruce lowered to his knees and examined
the dirt: it was soft and damp. He’d have no problem digging into it.

Bruce stuck his fingertips into the dirt and applied
pressure. As his fingers dug in, he was distracted by an unexpected
noise: a fierce, angry growling. Bruce eyed the vicinity of the forest,
looking for the culprit. Nothing but trees.

The growling grew louder. It became evident that it
was coming from directly behind him. He slowly turned his head, careful
not to make any sudden moves. Behind him, only inches away, was a gray
wolf, revealing its sharp fangs. Its head was lowered and its body was
crouched, ready to strike. The wolf’s muscles protruded. Bruce’s
heart raced. One wrong move and he would be finished. Still
clinging onto his log, he considered striking the wolf. But he would have
to be lightning-fast. It was too risky.

Bruce carefully stood up. The wolf ceased its
growling. An inch at a time, Bruce stepped out of the encircled X.
The wolf watched his every move, making sure he didn’t try anything
stupid. After Bruce was outside the circle, the wolf calmly proceeded
inside and sat atop the X.

Bruce stared at the wolf. The wolf stared back.
Its wildness was gone. It calmly guarded the X like a bouncer refusing to
let him in a bar. “Are you serious?” Bruce asked. They continued to
awkwardly stare at each other.

Hit with a dose of reality, Bruce turned to leave the
forest. He wasn’t going to mess with a
wolf
. He took a
couple steps toward the endless trees when he heard an even more unexpected
noise. The sound of laughter.

It was a female laugh that filled the air. Bruce
turned and darted his eyes around. A couple yards beyond the wolf, he
spotted a girl walking toward him. She wasn’t from school and he’d
certainly never seen her around town before. She couldn’t have been older
than 21. She was plainly dressed, wearing a button-up shirt and
jeans. She had blonde hair curled to her shoulders and looked like a
country girl. Bruce found himself instantly attracted to her. Her
face was bright and she was obviously amused about something.

The wolf turned to see what Bruce was looking at.
When it noticed the girl, it lowered its head. But not to attack.
It wagged its tail and begged to be pet. As the girl approached the wolf,
she obliged. She knelt down and rubbed its head as Bruce watched in
amazement. The wolf whimpered with pleasure.

“Run along now,” she said gently to the wolf.

The wolf obediently ran off.

The girl looked at Bruce and locked eyes with him.
Her eyes were a glowing bright blue color that Bruce noticed immediately.

“Was that your… wolf?” Bruce asked, letting his log
weapon fall to the ground.

She giggled. “No. No, it isn’t.”

There was something off about this girl. “I’m
sorry. Do I know you?”

“No. You don’t.”

“You’re not a part of this cult thing, are you?”

She giggled. “No. What’s your name?”

“Bruce,” he responded. He wasn’t entirely sure what
to make of her. She was charming, cute, giggly, and seemed trustworthy.
But what was she doing in the forest? He asked, “So what’s your name?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Of course not. “And why is that?”

“No one can know that I met you. You can’t tell
anyone. Ever. Can you do that for me, Bruce?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard. I don’t even know who you
are.”

The girl looked below her feet at the X-circle and erupted
with sadness. Her luminous presence vanished.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asked, sensing something was wrong.

She lifted her blue eyes off the X-circle and gave them
back to Bruce. “I’m fine. Thank you, Bruce.” She took a deep
breath. Her mind was plainly elsewhere. “I’m here to fix a
mistake. There may come a time when I will need your help.”

Bruce gazed into her eyes, desperately trying to figure out
if he could trust her. The whole encounter was bizarre, definitely not
what he expected when he ventured out. What kind of help would she
need? But hey, why not? Bruce was not one to shy away from a cute
girl in need.

“Count me in, Pocahontas.”

She laughed. Bruce was more cooperative than she
thought he’d be. It warmed her broken heart. She pulled a ring off
her finger. It was a simple ring, made of cheap metal. She held it
out to Bruce.

“This once meant a lot to me… Take it. A token of my
appreciation.” She looked down at the X-circle again. Seeing it
pained her heart. “Give it to the one you love the most. Whether
you know her now or you meet her later.”

Bruce reached out to take it from her. “I don’t have
to destroy this ring to save humanity, right?” She looked at him with a
blank stare. The joke had obviously flown over her head.

“Nevermind,” Bruce said. He took the ring from her
hand. “I appreciate it.”

She nodded. With that, she began to disassemble the
neatly formed X. She kicked the sticks aside and brushed some leaves atop
it. She knelt down, hovered her hand above the smooth soil, and glared
toward the bright sky. She closed her eyes and whispered inaudibly.

Bruce examined the ring in his hands. Engraved on the
outer rim were two barely visible letters: E.M.

“What does E.M. stand for?”

‘Pocahontas’ pulled down her head and smiled at him.

“You can’t tell me that either?” Bruce asked.

“I have to leave, Bruce.”

“Can I get your number at least? Take you out sometime?”

Pocahontas rose from her knees and faced him. She
found his smile enticing. Oddly, she felt a strong connection to
him. She stepped toward him. “I will find you when the time
comes.” She leaned forward and gently kissed him on the cheek.

It was the strangest introduction to another person Bruce
ever had.

Pocahontas put her fingers to her mouth and whistled.
Without hesitation, the gray wolf came storming through the woods. When
it reached her, it obediently sat beside her. Pocahontas got on her knees
and whispered something in its ear.

She rose to her feet. “Now Bruce, I’m going to
leave. Don’t try to follow me.” She pointed at the wolf. “He
won’t let you.”

The wolf gazed at Bruce, daring him to give chase.
Bruce took a couple steps toward her and the wolf revealed its fangs.

“I will see you soon.” She gave him one last look
before turning and running out of the forest. Bruce could do nothing but
helplessly watch as she disappeared from sight. Too bad. He
would’ve liked to get to know her.

“Bad boy,” Bruce said to the wolf.

All he could do now was walk the other way.

But what happened was no miniscule event.

Pocahontas had chosen him.

“Alright. No more secrets,” Bruce said, still
laying on the grass.
All he could see was the back of Kristen’s
head. Her blonde hair flowed toward his face. “Kristen, look at
me.” She rolled over and faced him.

Bruce asked, “Do you want to know what’s in the box?”

Her puppy dog eyes stared into his. She didn’t care
about the box. She was just frustrated about her lack of a genuine
connection with Bruce. She so desperately wanted what Stephen and Lisa
had.

“I don’t care what’s in the box.” Kristen pointed to
Bruce’s heart. “I just want to know what’s in here.”

Wow. If that wasn’t the corniest line Bruce ever
heard, then he didn’t know what was. But he would take it. He was
off the hook. He took her hand and held it up to his face. “I love
you Kristen.” He kissed her hand.

Truth be told, Bruce meant those words. But there was
one thing glaringly missing from her hand: the E.M. ring.

Bruce had already given it to another woman.