The strength welling in me. . . .
I lifted my left hand high. One gesture now—
Then Lily moved.
"Back or I'll shoot!" I screamed.
She came forward. Her eyes held no hate and no fear, only a pleading that burned and burned. I had to get rid of that burning. Kill her, kill her and release them. Free the hordes of Hell!
My left hand swooped. My right hand moved out. The hand of Satan. I flicked my wrist, pressed the trigger—and sent a bullet crashing into my brain.
12. Fall of Lucifer
"Easy," I said. "Easy."
"Must probe," grunted Keith.
"Get it out. Silver bullet or no, there might be infection."
"Easy," I repeated. Then, "Are you sure it's gone?"
Lily smiled down at me.
"Of course, darling. They're all gone. And the cage is empty. The instant you fired the gun they disappeared. Not in a cloud of brimstone, either. They just—weren't there."
I smiled. It wasn't so hard, because Keith had the little silver pellet out.
"Lucky shot," he commented. "Just missed grazing the parietal lobe."
"I still can't understand it," I said. "Can't understand what made me shoot myself and why Satan disappeared."
"The oldest story in the world," answered Keith. "Virtue triumphant. It fought the evil in you and won, even though you weren't conscious of it. When Lily came toward you the battle was resolved. You and the Devil fought it out in your own soul, and you won.
"And that was the secret of getting rid of Satan. The human soul pitted itself naked against his will and denied him."
I shook my head as Keith continued.
"Evil preys on inner weakness. In my case, Satan focussed his forces on my dominant quality of ambition. That ambition, directed sanely, caused me to embark on scientific research. Perverted just a little, Satan made my ambition become a lust for power at any price.
"In Lily's possession, her natural feminine vanity was accentuated to the point where she desired utter adoration. Again the psychology of evil came into play. And when the Devil invaded you, he worked through your love of learning, turning your scholarly inclinations into the field of sorcery."
"It's hard to believe now," I said. "Maybe it was all a mass hallucination. Those old wive's tales—"
Keith chuckled.
"Perhaps what we saw and called Satan wasn't physically real. We each saw a different figure in the glass cage, and Considine and Wintergreen might have had their own concepts. Even these creatures you materialized might be merely focal imaginative visions.
"But this I know. Whether we choose to personify it as Satan, or the Devil, or the Powers of Darkness—evil exists as a force in this world of ours. Describe it in terms of witchcraft or psychiatry as you will—evil is real."
Lily laid her head on my shoulder. "Let's forget it all now," she suggested.
"Suits me. Got any methods to suggest?"
"Well, if you're not too sick—"
"Too sick? I feel swell."
"Well, if you're not too sick, I suggest we celebrate."
"Fine idea," I responded.
"Sure," said Keith. "Let's go out and raise hell! Why—what's the matter?"
"Nothing at all," I replied; and promptly fainted.
