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It was an uplifting thought.  Now they
would all pay.  Everyone who had ever crossed his path and had caused him grief
would be destroyed, shredded in the maelstrom that would follow.  The En Sof
would show no mercy.  It had none to bestow.  And then, like a phoenix, a new
universe would arise and he would be its king.

And Mitch gloated in his triumph.

Despite the fact that he had already seen
a manifestation of the En Sof, Jake still felt apprehensive about what to
expect.  The thing could appear however it liked, an illusion within the minds
of the viewer.  It could if it wished be different for each of the onlookers
and he glanced from one to another as he waited for the force to make its
presence felt.

There was Mitch, so cocksure of himself,
arrogant bastard, but the poor fellow was suffering under the weight of a
massive chip on his shoulder.  Jake knew that in that lay his weakness but so
far he had proved unable to exploit it.

Cherry, he could see keeping quiet, the
gun still trained upon her.  That was a state of affairs he would have to
rectify.

Faivish and Shmueli were looking like a
pair of lost sheep.  It was clear that they were both suffering from the
machinations of the En Sof.

It was impossible to read either Professor
Tiferet or Alexander Lapski but Jake was certain that the Professor would be an
ally when one was needed.  Lapski, who had started all this, could not be
depended upon.

 There was the beginning of a wind.  An
icy blast, and the feeling of something becoming in the room with them.  It was
not tangible but it was forming itself out of the atoms themselves.

A dust cloud whirled and wove its way
through those present.  An eerie dance of dead cells and bacteria that wailed
to announce its coming.

Faster it spun, gathering more substance
to itself.  It shrieked, it squealed, it screamed in torment and a shape took
form.

It was rotund.

It was blockish.

It curved, it twisted.  It was straight,
unbending.

It stared through a thousand jaundiced
eyes and grimaced with lips swollen with deep red blood...but, even so, the
materialisation had barely started.

Jake watched, knowing that soon he would
be unable to watch if he wanted to retain his sanity and he saw that Ben,
Lapski, Cherry and Faivish were turning away.  Shmueli seemed to be transfixed
by the apparition whilst of them all only Mitch seemed completely immune as he
kept the gun steady as it pointed at Cherry.

‘You see, Jake.  There is nothing you can
do.  I have everything.’

For the moment it was true but already the
faint glimmerings of an idea were forming within Jake’s mind.  If Mitch could
see the En Sof and live why couldn’t he?  It had to be nothing more than just a
question of perspective.

……………………………………

Shmueli found himself watching spellbound
as the being made its presence felt.  So this was the real enemy.

It began with golden droplets that glittered
with their own internal light and wove iridescent patterns through the air. 
Like twirling snowflakes they fell to the ground, gyrating to a wondrous
melody, and building up into a form of perfection.

It was so beautiful.  Like something that
could only have come from Heaven.

How could this thing be evil?

First were the feet, the naked feet of an
athlete, like a statue of a Greek god.  Then ankles, calves, powerful legs and
at the thighs the beginnings of a silken toga that covered all the flesh.

As the torso appeared so then did great
wings, golden, like the wings of an eagle and above the whole was the face of a
saint, so serene, so loving, so perfect.  The epitome of an angel.

No, this was not evil.  It was too
beautiful to be evil and Shmueli knew what it was.

His Guardian Angel.

‘So you were unable to carry out my
will.  The Ferret still lives.  No matter.  He has served a function.  Now you
must be ready.  You have a role to play, a great role, a glorious role.  There
is a ceremony to perform.  Only a true High Priest of the God Almighty can
perform it.  You are a High Priest and so is the man Jacob Tranton.  There can
only be one High Priest.  Go to my servant, Mitch and he will...’

Mitch.  The reporter.  The man with the
gun on Cherry.  No!  It could not be.  How could his Guardian Angel be allied
to a monster like that?  Cherry, Cherry, she needed him, he had caused her too
much pain already.

Within Shmueli’s head everything spun as
the fiction created by the En Sof and reality finally separated.  This was not
his Guardian Angel, it was a thing of evil and he had allowed himself to be its
tool.

’Fool, you could have been a lord in
our new order.  Now you shall see the truth.’

And before his eyes, the wondrous form
began to change.  Beauty gave way to foulness.  The golden lustre faded to be
replaced with grey pallor.  The skin became tighter, the eyes sunken, the lips,
thin lifeless lines that just covered the open jaw of black decayed teeth. 
From the body the skin was shredding, rotting, becoming encrusted with the
mould of the cemetery.  A putrescence pervaded everything, sulphur, shit,
vomit, decay.

This was the En Sof.  This was his enemy
and he turned away in disgust.  He could not bear to look upon it.

And the world twisted.

A paradise but a strangely deformed
paradise.  Grass lay beneath his feet, green, abundant but above was a yellow
sky of roiling clouds, stirred up in a cyclonic wind.  There were trees, tall
trees, short trees and in the midst of them all was a tree of such splendour and
luscious fruit that it seemed as if it ruled them all.  Then came the sound of
laughter, of insane glee that almost seemed frightening, and from the opposite
direction something slithered.

They came into view.  First the man and
the woman, naked, beautiful and then from the other side entered the serpent. 
All of them converged on the tree.

The woman, (Eve presumably), reached for
one of the fruit and offered it to the serpent who eyed it warily, that was
when Shmueli realised that something was wrong.  This was not the way it should
be.

‘Eat the fruit, Serpent, or are you
afraid?’

The snake hissed and spat but made no move
to accept the offer.

‘Come,’ she said as she rolled the fruit
sensually about her body, around her full round breasts, massaging it against
her nipples, down her stomach, and then into the valley between her thighs. 
She rubbed it slowly against her vulva, all the time licking her lips in wanton
abandon, ‘Don’t you want me?’

And the serpent edged forward, mesmerised
by the erotic show.

The man, (who had to be Adam), watched on,
his penis erect, his finger and thumb surrounding it, masturbating.

‘Come on.  Eat the fruit and be as God. 
Don’t you want to know everything?  Yes, here it is.’

And the serpent reached up to the deep ruby
fruit between the woman’s legs and opened its mouth to take it in one swallow. 
Triumphantly the woman grabbed the reptile’s head and inserted it into her
vagina.  Then she played with it until the hot flush of ecstasy coursed her
cheeks.

The man came forward and offered his
engorged penis to her and, with the snake still within her, she hungrily
gobbled at the organ.

Shmueli turned away.  This was a horrible
distortion of the Bible.  How could it possibly be?

And the world twisted.

A place of storms, of wind and rain and,
in the middle of it all, an incredible wooden ship that lay at rest, its gang
plank lowered.  It was as big as a small cruise liner and Shmueli knew exactly
what it had to be.  This was the Ark built by Noah to save the animal life on Earth
at the time of the flood.  He knew the story.  Noah and his wife, their three
sons and their wives and mating pairs of every animal including seven pairs of
all that were kosher and fit to eat would be the only passengers aboard the
ship.  Why then were men, women and animals of every kind fighting each other
to make their way onto the boat?  Not only that but they were being allowed
passage quite indiscriminately.

Just like the story of the Garden of Eden
so was that of Noah becoming a perverted travesty of the biblical narration.

Shmueli moved forward and found himself
swept along in the tide of life that swarmed into the ark.  Was he truly
present or was he just a passive observer?  He did not know.  And then he was
aboard and something shifted.

As he reoriented Shmueli realised that
time had advanced.  The door was shut and the only light came from tallow
torches and small slits in the wall.

The place stunk of the unwashed, of man
and of beast, all wallowing in their own excreta.  Oh, the odour was appalling. 
There was screaming, crying, fighting.  A micro-world gone mad.

There was hardly room to move in the
cramped conditions.

Something screamed, a sound of absolute
agony and Shmueli managed to see what was happening.

A group of men were restraining a pure
white stallion (a beautiful creature) whilst a couple of their number were
grabbing the horse’s leg.  They heaved at it, twisting it, shaking it, pulling
it in a desperate bid to remove the limb.  The once noble beast tried to resist
but it was bound tight and all it could do was to neigh pitifully in terror. 
Poor creature.  How could they do that to it?

There was a wrench and then the leg was
free.  Blood and gristle rained down showering the entire group of men but
no-one seemed to care as they hungrily tucked into the uncooked flesh.

Shmueli felt sick and wanted to look away
but there was something almost compelling in witnessing the horror.  That was
when he realised that that was not the only act of barbarity that was being
performed.  Another of the savages was hacking at the animal’s rump using a
rudimentary blade whilst a further one of these human monsters was biting its
neck, slurping the blood from the open artery.

That was it.  It was enough.  They were
mad, all of them, stark staring mad and Shmueli looked away and began to wander
through the ark.

There were couples copulating in reckless
abandon.  Man and beast were joined together in a sexual frenzy that made
Shmueli feel quite nauseous.  It was then at last he understood what it was he was
seeing.  This was the Bible of the universe of the En Sof, the universe it
strove to become and, knowing that, Shmueli for the first time comprehended the
entity that had tried to force him to do its bidding.

Its power was merely illusion.  If he did
not believe then he could disregard what he was seeing.

He tried to ignore the carnage and
licentiousness that surrounded him.  He tried to concentrate on the one person
whose presence had given him the strength to fight back, Cherry.

And the world twisted but this time he was
back in that lounge confronting the putrescent form of the En Sof that smiled
at him like a grinning skull but this time he did not flinch.  He was ready to
confront his enemy.

…………………………………

Jake nodded.  He too found that he could rise
above the vision and stare at the thing that had manifested itself in his
lounge.  It was hideous, obscene, but he knew it was just an illusion, just an
image sent by the En Sof to unsettle him.

‘Enough of these games,’ he cried, knowing
that he had to show the enemy that he was not afraid but his only reward was
the sound of a hollow laughter that was for his ears alone.

‘Why do you seek to defy me?  There is
nothing you can do.  My servant Mitch holds the girl you love as hostage.  The
others are transfixed by the vision that I have sent them.  Now you must
perform the ceremony.’

He had to gain time.  There had to be an
alternative.

‘Wait.  I cannot do this alone.’

‘Speak.’

‘When my ancestor Cordozo carried out the
ritual he needed two others, the minimum of three required for any prayer.  Ten
would be even better to ensure success.  You do not want there to be a chance
of failure.’

Again that mocking laughter.

‘Three will be sufficient.  The man
Tiferet and the man Lapski will assist you.  They both know the service.’

‘No.  There should be ten.  A minyan.’

‘No more arguing.  Do you think that
the Lord God the Creator will interfere if you delay me long enough?  Fool. 
You have already seen his Angel and this has been allowed to continue. 
Remember, you are a sinner.’

But Jake had already made confession.

‘Thou shalt not kill.  Is that not one
of the commandments?’

There was a sickening wrench and Jake knew
that he had returned.  It was that day all over again but this time he was
merely a passive observer.

Once more he was at the top of the stairs
in his parents’ house standing by the unlocked child-proof gate blocking the
way down but now he was not alone.  Standing next to him was his child self.

He waited, knowing exactly what was going
to happen.  As he knew it would the crash sounded from within his bedroom
followed by the small cry as Sara realised what she had done.

Then he could hear his toy trains running
around their track.  That swish swish noise that had so excited him when he was
a boy but now it was Sara who had switched on the current.

The child Jake panicked and rushed into
the room.  Slowly, his older self followed.

Inside the boy had acted without thought,
screaming and shouting in unrestrained anger.  Both of the children were crying
as they hurled abuse at each other and then Jake the boy lashed out.

That was when Sara ran, destroying the
model houses that littered her path and Jake watched as his younger self gave
chase.  They reached the top of the stairs and suddenly Jake was no longer an
observer.  Now he was inhabiting his own body but without any degree of
control.

He could feel the rage inside, the desire
to punish the little girl, and he knew that he was quite impotent to prevent
the tragedy that was about to happen.  His hands reached up and shoved.

Sara sailed into the air and, with a
scream, dived downwards.  Her body did not even get the opportunity to roll up
which might have protected her small form from the worst of the descent. 
Instead she seemed to go head first, bouncing on the central steps and sliding
down the rest of the way, no sound whatever emanating from her throat.