“Then said he, Knowest thou wherefore I come unto thee? And now will I return to fight with the prince of Persia: and when I am gone forth, lo, the prince of Greece shall come. But I will show thee that which is noted in the scripture of truth: and there is none that holdeth with me in these things, but Michael your prince.”

He raised the sawed-off and fired twice. A hail of bullets flew through the air. He fell to the ground in a bloody heap, still waiting for the power he’d been promised.

Mike Coletti looked at the four missed calls from his partner and turned off the iPhone as he walked through the factory’s open door. There would be no backup on this one.

As he looked around for some sign of life, he heard the sound of gunshots from four blocks away. Coletti wondered if the killer had been caught. Those thoughts were put to rest when he heard the voice echo through the darkness.

“The gunshots were for Steven,” the gravelly voice said ominously. “I sent him to his death so we could be alone. Now, close the door.”

Coletti did so, and the long-shuttered factory was immediately thrust into darkness as the dank air inside swirled through the empty space.

“The prophecy is about to be fulfilled,” the voice said. “The sacrifice has been made, the abomination carried out, and the desolation has begun.”

As the voice echoed though the factory, a shaft of sunlight peered through a hole in the roof. Coletti’s eyes began to adjust. He could see the dim outlines of trash that trespassers had thrown inside over the years, and the hulking shapes of old machinery and rusting deep freezers the previous owners had left behind.

He crouched low and ducked behind one of the old freezers. Then he removed his gun from its holster as sweat trickled down the side of his face. He hoped to hear the voice again, but he didn’t hear a sound.

“What do you want from me?” he shouted through the eerie silence.

The voice exploded in full-throated laughter before it spoke again. “I want you to die.”

Coletti stuck his head out and spotted another freezer about ten feet in front of him and to his left. Staying low, he scrambled along the floor and hid behind it.

“There’s no use hiding,” the gravelly voice said. “I can see you. I always have.”

Coletti released the safety on his gun. “Then let me see you, too,” he said. “Come out and show yourself.”

Again, he heard the laughter, but this time it sounded closer.

“I’ve shown myself many times, and you ignored me. I killed in the cathedral. I killed in the churches. I killed in each case where you got a false confession, and still you never found me. Why should I show myself now?”