“How, I ask again?” Ash asked, trying to catch her breath.

“I don’t know. I have been in this library hundreds of times and never has a swarm of ghoulish creatures attacked me, so perhaps I am fuzzy on all the details.”

His harsh tone took her back and she stood up to get away from him. He sighed while taking her hand.

“I am sorry. I just don’t know how to explain all of this. Other than whatever Samson found when he wrote this. Perhaps if he knew about the creature’s blindness, then it’s likely he knew how to kill them.”

“I just cut one’s hand off, perhaps it is that simple. Perhaps a fire axe.”

He pointed to his leg and sighed.

“This was just from one. There are hundreds upon hundreds of them swarming looking for us. Oh, and they can talk so there’s-”

Ash threw up her hands in disbelief.

“What do you mean talk. Like in their own language?”

“No, it spoke to me…in English. It knew my name.”

“Did you respond?” Ash weakly said.

“Yes. But-”

“Son of a…In most stories of demons, if they ask you your name, you don’t respond. Now they know exactly who you are.”

“I am sorry, I was thinking rationally. Like it was a person talking to me in the dark. Not a being from hell.”

“I just hope they haven’t been telling your name around.”

“If I am that popular among demons then shouldn’t they have other ways of finding out who I am?”

“You-” Ash began before she was cut off by the sound of a large crash against the steel hatch they came through.

They both held their breath, not daring to move. The crash sounded again, sending Ash to the ground while trying to remain as still as possible. The crash was joined with a scratching, cutting sound. The two of them gazed forward at the skylight. The faint view of claws slicing against the glass rippled out to them. Neither one said a word, just held their breath, waiting for the creatures to inevitably break through. The scratching and slithering continued, slowly moving about like a gust of cold wind beating against a loose door. The quiets were always broken by the crash and slash of the creatures. The sound drifted further and further away, eventually winding down back into the heart of the library.

Ash slowly cracked the book using the light from her phone in nearly the exact fashion that Jonah had in the basement. He knew that the light was the thing that allowed him to be caught last time and quickly stifled the light with his hand, shaking his head wildly. She returned his dismissal with a nod attempting to prop up the book in the far away light of the street beneath them. She slowly paged through trying to see if Samson had indexed any of his work. The writing was scribbled half notes and code, with only a paragraph of words ever fully seen. As they paged in silence, Jonah did his best to avoid moving but the heavy pain of his wound was starting to become too great and he would need alleviate the pain soon. Ash turned to a page where the top read:

Boston, Library off Kirkland street.

She handed it to Jonah who nodded and began to read through it.

After speaking with Hazel in Annapolis it is clear to me that I should have guarded myself with more than just my faith. Perhaps something blessed or engraved to protect me. That and a warm blanket as I am not sure what the weather will be in Hanover. If Saint and his demons can move the clouds in the sky, then I have doubts of our success. I know I am not supposed to, but there they are. May God forgive me.

Traveling to Hanover comes after the sighting of lesser demons known as Imps outside of Annapolis. Hazel told me of them. Disgusting creatures made of dried and wet flesh wrapped and seared together by the fires of hell. They are both monstrous and well spoken, attempting their best to lull their prey into a false sense of security. Despite Dante and all of his work, there is no door, staircase, or structure that travels to the bowels of hell. All there is are fissures. Dark, dry, empty holes that disappear into nothing but eternal damnation. The Imps, given their claws and opposable thumbs, are able to circumvent these caverns rather well and crawl back to the surface like cockroaches out of a well. The thought of these beasts being able to crawl out of hell made my skin sweat and turn rather cold. The masons must have agreed, as Hazel suggested that if I was going to meet them head on, that I review their collection in Hanover.

Upon arriving in Hanover, I have discovered a mansion, or for a better word, a fortress, the masons used for years. Documents, interviews, and a swirling plethora of information. The masons in their wisdom discovered there are three fires. The fires of earth to enact warmth for God’s creatures. The fires of hell to enact torment. And lastly the fires of heaven to enact justice upon the hoard. The masons in Hanover were able to drive the imps back to hell by enacting heavenly fire. Just as Elijah did to the followers of Baal. If I can discover how to create this fire, I should be able to destroy the creatures. Hopefully before it is too late.

I have tracked them back to Boston where I have found the fissure. Sadly, it runs sideways throughout the city like a separate sewage system. I have patched what I can but there is no guarantee it will remain sealed. I have been away from Hanover for too long and must return.

“A negative Raccoon is the same as an Amber Elm forest. Buried to None in square grave, etched in the sand with his friend the Nautilus. Shout in prayer at heavens and let the two rejoice.”

Jonah rolled his eyes out of habit. His skepticism was not lost on Ash, who shut the book and leaned into him.

“This was your idea,” she whispered trying not to alert the imps.

“I know but it sounds like the ramblings of a preacher in Salem. The demons and monsters being trapped in the earth beneath us I mean-”

“You did say they emerged from the basement in a cluster and that one spoke to you.”

“I know my brother. I know how he talks. How he spins things to seem like they are one way when they are really another. I just hope I am not making that mistake again,” he said in a frustrated mumble.

Ash nodded. She reopened the book and paged through to find passage again. She pointed at the small poem at the end.

“Do you think this a code?”

“Sounds more like a fable. Samson was found of little “Aesop-esque” fables. I don’t remember this one. A Raccoon is the same as an Amber Elm? This doesn’t make any sense.”

Another slam of the door echoed out, the shattering sound of the metal bending heavily against the weight of the hinge, followed quickly by the screeching of the nails as the imps banged and twisted against the side. Ash lifted Jonah who attempt to protest but Ash ignored him. Pushing him back to the center, just shy of the skylight. She opened the book and looked over the page.

“They will find us here,” Jonah wheezed.

“They know we’re here. We’re out of options. I think this is how you create heavenly fire,” she said, sheepishly pointing at the fable.

“It isn’t directions it just a fable.”

“When I worked with Samson, he would always scribble something like this at the bottom of his sermon as a weird memory technique. Like if he was going to talk about sin the fable would contain an apple or cross. I never knew why he did that.”

Jonah took the book from her and sighed.

“Because I told him to. When we were kids, I would help him with his math homework, and I told him if he wanted to remember something turn it into…a word problem,” he said, not believing his own words.

He looked over the book again. “A negative Raccoon is the same as an Amber Elm forest. Buried to None in square grave, etched in the sand with his friend the Nautilus. Shout in prayer at heavens and let the two rejoice.” He read over the fable, word for word, trying to decipher what Samson wanted him to do. As he studied, Ash tapped him on the shoulder. He lifted his head slowly. She quietly pointed to the next roof over without saying a word. Jonah stared over the roof and his skin went cold again. The black dog had returned. Stationary as a statue, glaring at them as they lay there in the dark.

“What do we do,” she whispered.

“I don’t know…nothing I guess,” he said reluctantly.

He turned back to the book. “A negative Raccoon is the same as an Amber Elm forest. Buried to None in a square grave. Etched in the sand, with his friend the Nautilus…

“The Nautilus,” he said to himself.

Continuing to look over the fable, he pointed to the word “None.”

“Why is the word none capitalized?”

“Poignancy?” Ash responded with uncertainty.

“No that was not like him. It would have to mean something else. Maybe it is something else?”

“Like a number?”

“Why would you say that?”

“You said that you helped with math by having him turn it into a word problem. Perhaps he just applied the same concept.”

“If that is the case than the word none would be the number zero. And perhaps that is what the capitalization means, he wanted those to be numbers.”

He ran his hand over all the capital letters. A, Raccoon, Amber, Elm, Buried, None, Nautilus, Shout. He knew none meant zero, but what could the rest mean? Before he could center his thoughts, another loud crash from the door let out with the familiar yet horrifying sound of squealing nails mincing the metal. He and Ash spotted the door slightly out of the way. The door was mangled and torn with large slices cut into it. Jonah couldn’t guess as to why the imps had not surfaced on the roof through the opening. He hoped they were having the same trouble grasping the height as they were. He wiped the sweat from his neck and turned back to the book. Seeing all the capital letters in a row made him think he had seen this this before, and again returned to the nautilus.

“Nautilus,” he said again, slowly spinning his finger over and over the page.

“What is a nautilus? Isn’t that a kind of ship?” Ash asked.

“It is a sea creature it is known for having a spiral shell…that is it!”

He looked over the capital letters again. Raccoon, Amber, Elm, Buried and None. Reaching to the roof he snatched up a piece of lose shale, running it across the book like a wannabe pencil.

“It is an equation for a logarithmic spiral. r=a*e*b0 squared,” he said trying to contain his excitement.

“A what?”

“A logarithmic spiral. It is a geometric spiral that increases geometric progression. How it becomes fire from heaven I don’t know.”

“Maybe that is what the last part is. “Shout in prayer to the heavens and let the two of them rejoice,” she said.

“Maybe… I feel like there is more to it.” Jonah said focused on his work.

He read over the it again. The forest was multiplication, he guessed. In the same way square grave was the problem squared. Etched in the sand he read again.

“Etched in the sand? Do you think that is code or is that literal?”

“I don’t know,” she responded taking the book in her hands.

“So-” Jonah stared, when another crash was let out bending the door off the hinges completely, falling back onto the roof, leaving the hatch completely open. The slashing of the nails and teeth upon them echoing loudly, as several hands dug themselves in the top of the roof.

“No time! Write out the equation in the sand!” Screamed Ash.

“What sand?” He blurted.

“Find some!” She screamed again.

Jonah leaned over the sky light pressing his hand against the glass. Realizing glass and sand were practically the same, he prayed Samson wrote this literally. Taking the shale, he dug it into the skylight creating a blistering squeal. As he carved the “R” the rest of the imps turned their heads upward, digging into the walls rushing for the sky light. He dug the shale in deep to create the equal sign. The imps were coming through the hatch, climbing over one another to reach the top. He carved the “a” and “e” as the shale squished in his sweaty palm. The imps rushed them, slashing hard against the pebbles, jumping wildly at the sky light. Ash rushed one of the imps, striking it hard with the book, followed by lifting her foot and kicking it in the face. It let out a sinister hiss of a laugh before biting on Ash’s foot, pushing its teeth all the way through. She screamed and fell back onto the roof. Jonah carved the last of the equation the b and zero before an imp leapt onto his back slamming his face into the glass.

“Help Us!” He screamed, “Fire from heaven! God! Whoever! Help!”

He could feel the creature digging its nails deep into his skin, beginning to tear at his ear and scalp. He looked over at Ash who was trying to reclaim her foot that the imp had almost complete swallowed. She screamed up for help as well. Jonah looked his equation lined up and set up perfectly, he tried to run Samson’s fable back through his brain.

“A negative…” he started. Realizing his mistake, he scrambled for the shale, trying to secure his grip. The imp’s claws tore into his forehead, ripping off large chunks of skin and muscle. Pinching the shale hard in his finger he carved the dash in the front of the equation just as an imp broke his hand through the glass.

Jonah yelled from the depths of his soul. “Come on! Help!”

The words had barely left his mouth when the clouds echoed a large clap of thunder. The thunder sounded intentional, almost as if something was speaking. All the imps froze, arcing their heads up. Jonah gazed in the sky just in time to see the clouds turn from a dark black to a white orange. Before he could blink the clouds released a cascade of flames spiraling down from the sky. They struck the library burning through the glass and stone engulfing all of them inside the wall of fire. The imps vanished, vaporized into a dust. Jonah and Ash began their descent, falling as the flame burned through the foundation all the way into the earth. As Jonah continued to fall, he looked up seeing a perfect logarithmic spiral climbing into the atmosphere. As his glasses melted away, he saw the flames broken by a large soaring creature spreading outward like an albatross before the heat was too much and he faded into darkness.

He was snapped awake by the sound of a horn, finding himself on bench just outside of the Boston train station. He looked down to see Ash with her head against his. He looked around to see if anyone else was surprised and wondered if he had dreamt all of it. He knew he was wrong as the entirety of the station was gathered around one of the large TVs. The TV was showing a news report of one of the Harvard buildings being destroyed by a “massive bolt of lightning.” As the anchor continued the report, several people rushed to the windows to see if they could spot the smoke. He felt his head and realized there was no blood, moving down to his ankles, he felt the same. He hands, nose, ears, even his glasses were repaired. He looked over to Ash and saw she also was unharmed. He sat there staring at the horror with no way of understanding it. He carefully laid her down and made his way to the ticket counter. The young woman behind the counter popped a bubble and stared at him.

“Where to?”

“Two for Hanover please.”