Chapter Fourteen

Being discreet he was never good at. Being sinister he was. Allen could easily listen in on conversations but he would end up knocking something over in the process; like a vase here or a plant there. He paid closer attention to what was said and not on what was around him.

It had been a while since he first arrived in the Holy City, yet he was completely unsuccessful at discovering the key. He was quickly tiring of people’s lives and so it happened one day that he had chosen to inhabit someone’s body with the hope of getting information through the mind instead of silly neighbor gossip.

Allen should have thought harder on this before doing it. When people noticed that the body of their beloved wasn’t doing what he’d normally be doing (praying, moreso), they became suspicious and thought that something evil had taken their friend away from them.

He was trying to get out of the body he was using but he could not escape the carcass. Either he had forgotten the lesson of exiting the body, or else this being did not want to let Allen go.

And this is when all hell broke loose. The more he tried to exit the body, the more the body tried to keep him and it looked as if he were beating himself up as Allen used the man’s arms and kept hitting him with them. To the street wanderer, seeing this man gyrating and throwing curses in a foreign tongue out in the middle of the street, this man was definitely possessed.

A lynch mob seemed to have formed out of nowhere and they were all running at the man Allen was trapped inside. He knew that if he could not beat himself out of this body, this mob would do no better. But, what would happen to me if they slaughter this poor shit? Would I perish along with it? In fear, Allen made the body run as fast as he could.

They followed in pursuit with their clubs, hammers, and even weaponry the likes of knives and pistols raised in the air. Allen seemed to have been running around block after block (still, the mob would not give up) and he saw that the gates to the city were open and so he sprinted to the safety of the outer-city. His victory was short lived because as he turned his head – he was several yards from the city proper – he met the end of a large club in the eye.

He was knocked to the ground and happened to see the blood being dried as it sunk into the earth. This could have been my blood, Allen thought. He stood up and saw that the mob was coming closer with angered faces. Allen looked through his borrowed eyes at the man who had hit him and instead of running, he reached out and took the man’s head in his two hands and quickly twisted it around until he heard that lovely song of it snapping.

He dropped the man’s lifeless body and began running again. He didn’t get very far before he was overtaken by the crowd of angry faces. They didn’t seem to want to take turns; whoever was closest would strike him with whatever they had with them and by the sixth or seventh blow, Allen could no longer look at them as he shielded his eyes with his hands.

They were even pulling handfuls of his black hair out as many hands came to tear one man’s soul apart. When the heavy hitters had gone away, they left more flesh for those who wanted to use their hands as weapons. It was these people Allen watched with fascination in his soul. These men didn’t care if there was an evil spirit living inside their neighbor; they were enjoying what they were doing.

At a different time and place, Allen would have liked them. But as it was, Allen tried to stand up, his legs not working any longer. Why was this fucker holding on so tight? He tried to stand again, but only fell back down. The men surrounding him all laughed.

Fear, an alien concept to Allen, crept into his soul at that moment. He was definitely going to die for good this time. He surely wasn’t going to heaven, and he feared hell. He didn’t want to die. He had to get moving somehow, and so he dragged himself by his fingers and elbows.

Laughing, they kicked Allen along whatever path he chose to take. And then salvation came.

They had approached holy doors; doors of which Allen crawled through. He didn’t care where he was, just as long as he was no longer being hit. He collapsed onto the ground when he reached the center of the enormous room.

Several minutes later he was able to open his eyes and move his head a little. He found that he lay in a circular room with benches throughout. A church most likely, he thought. He moved his hand with the hopes of pulling himself up, but as his borrowed hand slid across the floor, an electric pain shot through his entire being. He closed his eyes and saw nothing but white.

He could not remove his hand. A message seemed to be coming through his soul. A picture came with that message. Brief scenes of Judas directly after Christ had been sentenced to be crucified. Judas ran ahead before the Romans got to the mound. Judas tossing something into a deep hole and covering it with only a handful of sand and rock. And nothing more.

Allen regained power over his borrowed hand and he let his head drop to the ground and tears fell from his eyes. He didn’t care any for the significance of Christ or Judas. What he wanted, he had found. He began clawing at the ground with such vigor he thought almost impossible, especially in the condition he was in. He dug with his hands for about a half hour, maybe longer, and then he felt something.

Allen wrapped his hand around the clothed item and pulled it up. He didn’t unwrap it here and now – it was still too dangerous a place to remain. Perhaps this was why I couldn’t leave this pathetic body – I needed flesh to hold the key.

But then he felt something happening to his body. It was healing itself of its wounds. His legs had found strength and he could stand once again. Reaching up he found that his face hadn’t bruised, or at least they were healed, and he had total vision in both eyes.

And when he stood he felt his eyes changing. He didn’t know for sure, but he felt that his new eyes were those belonging to Allen Corgan. And when he stood up, a powerful feeling overcame him – much like when he had first received his first powers of dream travel and the capability to convert others into Dreamkillers. His black eyes formed a new triumphant gleam and he stretched out his arms to full width and he bent his head back and roared in laughter.

No, this was not the flesh he had wanted – he would find a different form when he reached the Forbidden Realms.

He walked to the front door and shoved it open and he found himself standing before the lynch mob who seemed to have been waiting for his death. Well, he thought, I’m sorry to disappoint them.

They turned and looked at the new man behind eyes of terror. A miracle has happened, yes, but they were the ones who had tormented him in the first place. Fearing for their lives, the men turned and ran back toward the city.

Should he kill them? Maybe one or two would be fulfilling. He spread out his arms to them and formed an odd image in his darkened head. And just as he imagined them, the horde of locusts came from behind Allen and flew past him and hovered above the mob and then when he threw down his arms, the horde went in for the kill as the terrified victims had no defense but to cover their eyes as the insects found their way inside the mouths of the screaming men.

Allen watched the miracle for a moment and then sent the horde away when he was sure the mob had died. He stood there wondering what other powers he had. He had sent a wrath upon the men and none survived. Do I really need my new Dreamkillers? Could I take full control over the world?

Yes, I could take over the world. But that isn’t enough. If I control the world, they would always have this fantasy place called dreams that they can escape to every night. So, I do need my Dreamkillers. Once I have total dominion over the realm of dreams, I can control everything.

* * *

The large door opened and Vince poked his head into the dark room. The nun who had opened the door had stepped back into the darkness and when she saw that it was a young man, she stepped back toward him and held out her arms when she saw his pale complexion. But when she was about to assist him, Samantha entered right behind Vince and the nun almost shrieked and scurried out of the room.

Vince turned and tossed Samantha a confused shake of his head. She smiled and helped him into the convent.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Moments later they were greeted by an older nun who helped Samantha by grabbing his other arm and they walked into an adjoining room. The young nun had returned with a cot and this she opened and helped her superior lay Vince on it.

“You may stay until you are well,” said the older nun and Samantha smiled and nodded her head.

“I hope we’re not intruding.”

“Of course not. Our doors are open to everyone.”

During the exchange of words, Vince was watching the younger nun. She had a disturbed look in her eyes whenever she looked at Samantha. And when he looked up at the older nun, “Sister Helen?”

The older nun glanced down at him with old soft eyes. “Yes, Child.”

She had been his grade school teacher and when he went to junior high, she became his principal at the new school. Looking back, Vince could have sworn she was following him.

Again she smiled at him as if she could read his mind. “Yes, I have been following you. That is, until you graduated.” She looked back at the younger nun and made a small gesture and, silently the younger one left the room. Looking back at Vince and Samantha, “We will discuss this further, but for now you need your rest. Tomorrow we shall catch up on old times, so to speak.”

Samantha stepped in before Vince could protest (he did, after all, feel perfectly well) with: “Thank you for your hospitality. We won’t stay long.”

Again Sister Helen smiled. “It is no inconvenience. Good night.” She bowed her head with one final look at Vince and then turned and took her exit.

When they were well out of hearing range, “How weird can nuns be, you said,” she commented behind a smile.

He returned the smile and leaned his back against the wall and sighed. “I think I should get some sleep if you don’t mind.”

She nodded with a saddened smile. “I wish she’d come and see me, too.” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “Say hello for me,” she said and then turned and left him alone.

“I don’t think I can face her knowing what I know and what she doesn’t.”

Vince sat up and acknowledged her presence as Mykella walked into the room. Every time she appears from a different room, he wonders where she came from. Does she just sit around in some void or does she run a productive preexisting life? He would probably never know.

“Can you blame her for wanting to know you?”

Mykella lowered her head and crossed the room. “Would you really want to know me if you knew what was to become of me?”

Vince tried to stifle a chuckle. “Yes, I would like to know you. You have a gift and to share it with just one person,” He couldn’t find words to express how he really felt whenever he was near her. He once told her that he would die for her and she had replied that she had already died for him. For some strange reason he now understood what she meant – he felt as if he had already died for her as well.

She reached out and gently touched his cheek and smiled down at him. “You’re too kind.” Mykella sat down next to him. “No. I don’t think I could live knowing that she knows what will happen to me.”

Vince understood what she meant – she was more or less human, too. She was a spirit who already had a soul and her soul had feelings. Thinking of souls, he let his thoughts drift over to his sister. He didn’t understand her dreams but he knew that she was no more evil than the Pope.

Mykella was studying his face while he was thinking. She read something different about his appearance.

“I was wondering if you could do me a favor,”

Here it comes, she thought. “What?”

He was trying to find a proper way to ask. “When I’m awake, you wouldn’t check up on my sister would you?”

Her eyebrows lowered as she tried to find any hidden meaning in the request. “Why do you want me to do this? I mean, she doesn’t even think I exist.”

“Then prove it to her. I need her to understand what we’re up against. She won’t listen to me – I drove her away. You can persuade her, I’m sure of it.”

“You never did tell me what happened that time I sent you to her dreams – what happened?”

Vince lowered his eyes as if ashamed. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

She could smell the fear emanating from his soul. “The Dreamkillers are rising aren’t they?”

He didn’t know how to answer her. He had never thought too hard about what had happened. All that he knew was that she couldn’t harm him without an order to do so.

“It’s too late – why didn’t you tell me?”

“They can’t do anything yet. They don’t have a master.”

“Tell me what she told you.”

Vince closed his eyes and tried to remember the words the Dreamkiller said to him and he was having difficulty; memory was never his strongest trait. “She said that the second battalion will be stronger than the first.”

Mykella was looking into his eyes and she caught something there. “That’s not all,”

“No. My mother told me that these Dreamkillers will become more deadly than the first wave because they look human and they have the taste and liking for the kill.”

She reached up and grabbed her crucifix in her right hand and squeezed it as tears fell from her closed eyes. “I can’t – I can’t do this. No, there has to be someone stronger than me. I can’t,”

His heart was breaking as he watched this young woman fall apart and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I wish there was, because I love you. I don’t want to see you go through this. But, you have to. I’ll be with you as long as I’m allowed by fate.”

She looked into his eyes. “You…love me?”

He smiled at her naiveté. How could he describe all the different kinds of love? “I do. You’re the daughter of the woman I think I want to spend the rest of my life with. I guess I’m having that paternal kind of love – like father and daughter.”

There was a part of her which was saddened – she had to tell herself that he would be at least twenty years older than she when she enters the world – and the other part of her was overjoyed. For this reason, the two have already died for one another. She has died because she knows her destiny and he has died because he has chosen to be by her side no matter what.

She leaned closer to him and put her soft lips on the tip of his nose and kissed it and then she put her finger up over his eye lids. “Sleep.” And then she vanished from the room before he opened his eyes.

Was the war closer than he had thought? He couldn’t believe that it would begin before Mykella was even born. But, if it did, then that would mean that he would die before she lives and that Samantha is kept alive only for the purpose of fulfilling the prophecy.

She had not promised Vince that she would do it, but Mykella found the dream line connecting to Alexandria and she was hesitant before continuing any further. It was like looking through a keyhole into Xan’s mind. What she saw was Xan laying on her bed looking asleep (asleep in a dream?).

Pushing just a little harder she entered the room, trying to be as quiet as she could be; she didn’t want to disturb her in this odd state. She whispered the woman’s name but received no reply. Fearing for the worst she moved closer to the woman laying on the bed and she looked down and saw pink and yellow rose petals scattered around the bed on the floor.

Mykella looked down at the peaceful face of Vince’s sister and almost envied this woman. Xan had a body that Mykella did not. What it must feel like to reach out and really feel Vince’s cheek against hers. This woman lying dead-like was perfect. Mykella slowly reached down in an attempt to feel this body, but she was terror-struck when Xan’s hand reached up and took hold of Mykella’s wrist.

Xan moved her head and her white eyes locked on with Mykella. “You can’t feel me, but I can feel you, my sweet.” She sat up without releasing Mykella. She watched the young woman struggle in vain and saw the tears running down her cheeks. There was panic in the woman’s soul – and Xan loved it.

With a simple wave Xan sent Mykella spiraling across the room only to crash through a night stand. There’s more to this small confrontation than Xan was willing to disclose to the young woman. Her intent was not to kill – no, not now anyway.

Mykella did not move; she just remained crouched beneath the shattered table with a sore back and tears running out her eyes.

Xan stood up but did not advance and she looked down at the weeping girl. “This? This is what we’ll be fighting? This scared little child?” The sarcasm in her tone was both menace and laughter. “I’m sure we can do better than you.”

Unlike the living, Mykella couldn’t just wake up; she had to wait for the mortal Xan to wake from dreams Mykella was sure she wouldn’t remember. She didn’t understand how a soul can be tainted by such an evil entity and the living person having no idea of its being there.

If only she could reach out and wake her up. If only she wouldn’t have come here upon Vince’s request. If only she could refuse to fight these evil creatures. Maybe she would have a year or two of peace in her life before evil conquered everything. Or maybe not. The way it was sounding, it was as if Xan was sure the battle was going to be soon.

She had to find a way back to Vince. If she were to live tonight, she had to find him. She had to go to him and beg to be released from this burden. It was only yesterday that she had preached to him that it was her burden to fight for all mankind. But now she was looking for any way to get out of it.

Through her sobs she heard the faint sound of voices coming from a distant place. Xan looked up and then back down at Mykella. “Well, if you don’t go running with your tail between your legs, we’ll meet again.” And she vanished from the room leaving Mykella who had closed her eyes in relief.