The Rising: Selected Scenes from the End of the World

THE END

The Labyrinth

Day One

The City Between Worlds

Robert Lewis, Bob to his friends, and Cyber-Bob to his online buddies, opened his eyes, amazed that he could still see. Indeed, amazed he still had eyes. He remembered them popping, running down his charred face as the second sun burned everything in Aurora—humans, zombies, plants, and insects alike. The last thing he’d seen were the walls of his parents’ home, turning to ash.

Bob looked around. He was in an empty room carved out of gray, stone blocks. A pale half-moon shining through the room’s lone window provided his only source of light. The air was damp and cold.

“This is Heaven?” His voice echoed off the walls. Bob considered himself a Christian—a Catholic. He was open-minded and respected other beliefs, as long as people did the same for him. He disagreed with some of the church’s dogma, but Bob knew his Bible, and he didn’t remember Heaven being described like this. His personal vision of the perfect afterlife had always involved a really big library with comfortable chairs and fireplaces and an endless supply of books, both for reading and writing (he enjoyed both).

He went to the window. A thick layer of gray clouds floated so far below that he almost mistook them for mountaintops. Bob glanced up at the moon, hanging alone in the darkness, with no stars to keep it company. Not even the flashing lights of a passing airplane.

Then the moon blinked.

Gasping, Bob leapt backward and collided with something else. Something in the room, that hadn’t been there before.

A… person?

It was shaped like a human. Tall. Bob couldn’t tell if it had legs, because it wore a long, flowing black shroud. Its face and hands were milk-white, and its eyes and mouth were black, empty holes.

“Robert Lewis of Earth, early Twenty-First Century?” Its voice was like an echo with no sound at first. The lips did not move.

Bob tried to speak, and found he couldn’t. All he managed was a strangled sigh.

“That is a yes?”

Bob nodded.

“And on your Earth, were the dead coming back to life, possessed by a race of beings known as the Siqqusim?”

“Um…” Bob shrugged.

The creature took a step backward, and though Bob heard its footsteps ring out on the stone floor, he realized that it was actually floating several inches above it.

He swallowed. So what’s making the footstep sound?

“Yes or no, Mr. Lewis?”

Bob nodded again.

“Does the term ‘Hamelin’s Revenge’ mean anything to you?”

Frowning, Bob shook his head. It didn’t ring any bells.

The thing smiled. “Good. Then I have obtained the right version of you. Welcome to the Labyrinth. You were expecting Heaven, and you may see it yet. But there is something you must do before you pass on. Follow me.”

The creature rotated in mid-air, floating towards the door.

Bob finally worked up enough saliva to shout,

“Hey!”

His companion turned. “Yes?”

“What is this? Who are you?”

“This is nowhere and everywhere. This is the inbetween—the black space amidst the stars, the backdoor of reality. As for me, do I not look familiar?”

Bob considered this. The being did look familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I get the feeling I’ve met you before.”

“You have. All of you have. In your dreams.”

A sense of relief washed over Bob, and his posture slackened. “That’s it! I’m dreaming. I’m still back in Aurora, and the Earth didn’t burn up!”

The other floated out the doorway. “No, I’m afraid your Earth was incinerated, as were countless other Earths, by the Teraphim.”

“W-who?”

“The three brothers: Ob of the Siqqusim, Ab of the Elilum, and Api of the Teraphim.”

“This is a dream,” Bob replied, “so it’s okay if I don’t understand a thing you just said, right?”

“It matters not.” The creature led him down a long staircase, which led to another door.

“We now enter the Labyrinth,” the mime-thing said.Bob followed his companion through a confusing, maze-like series of hallways with closed doors on all sides. They seemed to walk for a long time.

“Where are we going?”

“You are going to a different Earth. Your father played in a musical duo. Lewis and Walker, correct?”

“Yeah, but how—?”

“That is what this incarnation of Kevin Jensen is listening to right now. He has just buried his friend. Tomorrow, he will attempt to rescue other friends from a cult. It has gone disastrously wrong infinite times before. We are sending you in to tip the balance.”

“Can I wake up now?”

The thing ignored him. “You must obtain the cult’s copy of the Daemonolateria. Use it to stop Leviathan and Behemoth, and to halt the rains.”

Bob stopped in the middle of the hallway. “Look. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about. You’re not making any fucking sense!”

The creature whirled around, and its voice boomed inside his head.

“THE THIRTEEN HAVE BEEN LOOSED

ACROSS TIME AND SPACE. ALL EARTHS, ALL

PLANETS, INDEED—THE VERY FABRIC OF EXISTENCE IS THREATENED. REALITIES ARE COLLAPSING IN ON ONE ANOTHER. DEATH IS LIFE

AND LIFE IS DEATH. ALL ARE IN DANGER OF

BECOMING NOTHING. YOU WILL DO THIS, OR