Perdition

Perdition- Chapter 1

Chapter One

The loud and heavy booming of the modified bass drum echoed through my ears. It was the way my Uncle had designed it. He was quite an inventor when he was young I was told. The drum indicated a meeting of our syndicate was about to be in-session. It was imperative that we all attended.

There are so many stories and rumours that have circulated over the years about what happens when you don’t attend. All of them are different but it doesn’t really matter they all indicate the same idea- it’s not pleasant. It’s the sort of group that you’re born into. There is no such thing as picking and choosing in our convergence. The moment you are born your whole entire life plans and objectives are all mapped out for you. It’s just too bad I suppose if you don’t agree. There has only been one person in my whole entire immortal lifespan that has managed to leave and he has suffered greatly every day since. I have a feeling though that he is the reason we are in-session today.

Walking up the bleached white hall I take in the scenery. It’s not every day we get to take a stroll in the great west wing. It’s ironic really. They expect us to come as quickly as possible when we hear the drums. Don’t they take into consideration that we all get distracted by the ornate objects lining the walls. Even I get distracted and I have walked down this corridor more times than most. The monuments are all neatly arranged. Each and every one glows in their own metallic or transparent colour, whether it is gold, silver or diamond. They are worth millions. I really don’t know how they ended up here, in this hall. It seems to me the most unlikely place to house important, historic and lavish objects. On second thoughts though, it does make the journey towards the devious west wing that little bit less intimidating. The distracting and beautiful ornaments can’t continue forever though. As I round the last left hand bend and approach the large golden double doors I take a deep breathe in remind myself that this session won’t be my last, besides, ninety-five per cent of the things you worry about never actually happen.

I walk through the ornate doors and nothing seems out of place, it looks just how I remember it, my memory is serving me well as per usual, just another perk of the life I didn’t chose to live. The long golden rimed table sits in the same spot it has for over five hundred years ago. It never changes, never shows any evidence of it age. All the chairs are tucked in meticulously and the golden rims are as polished as ever. I take my seat at the second head of the table and wait patiently. There’s nothing else to do until he arrives. No decisions can be made without him, and unlike the rest of us he can decided when or even if he arrives.

Others begin to pour in, all walking sluggish. No-one really enjoys these sessions; they tend to be pretty full on, both mentally and sometimes physically draining. There have been stories of newbies that can’t sleep for days after one of these meetings. I sure know it was the case with me. That was eons ago now. But the image burnt into my brain, of me sitting on my bed, a blubbering mess, contemplating everything I have ever known is not something that I am likely to forget anytime soon. There is only one person I know who actually shows any sort of enthusiasm towards these meetings, Alvah.  Everyone looks up to him. Everyone wants to be his best friend. At least he chose his name appropriately, Alvah- meaning exalted. He is one of those annoying sort people, the one who will do anything for that little bit of added respect. The brown faces we call them. I swear if he got the chance he would stick his head up my uncle’s arse.  That’s how desperate he is. I think he wants to take over as the head when my Uncle “steps down”. He’s quite a “young one” so I doubt he has read the handbook. 

Put it this way he will be pretty shocked when he does. I know he is after the top job but, true to my own form and dry sense of humour I’m going to wait, until the day he literally does stick his head up Uncle’s arse to tell him that in the fine print of the hand book, you must be a direct blood descendant of the Greats to become Lucifer, The Chief of the Demons.