Part I:
For They Are Here on Earth
Chapter 1: Abel
This is justice, right?
The question rang in Abel’s head, unanswered. His body shifted as his navy suit crushed his throat. He adjusted his collar and scanned the open plaza before him. Hundreds of citizens wandered across the bottom floor. The old, the young, the innocent, and the guilty all convened in one place.
From where Abel stood, the crowd blended together. The large white room resembled a court and an arena. Its long, white columns towered high above, holding the checkered ceiling up as the white stone walls echoed the sound of the chatter within. Abel stood amongst the Anti-Demi Administration recruits on the large balcony toward the left of the entrance. Their blue coats contrasted starkly with the white room, yet no eyes gave way. Instead, their sights turned to the floor where a large, circular gray stone stood slightly elevated in the center of the room. Etched into it was a balance. A tilted balance. Every civilian who had walked in kept staring from outside its railing as they listened and waited for the shifting to come from below. The sound of death.
Above the circular rise floated a heliogram, which streamed the event to the masses. The leading news anchor of Zone Seven News Network, Natasha Helias, echoed across the venue, reciting the words the A.D.A. gave her. Across from Abel, along the other balcony, stood many others like him who gazed upon the platform with childlike wonder. Agents ranging from desk clerks all the way to Demi-Subjugation lined the railing and stared below as if preparing to witness a god again for the first time. Yet the chatter went numb to Abel’s ears. A beast pounded on the drum of his heart, unrelenting. All at once, the crowd grew silent and stared toward the stage. Abel followed their gaze.
Before them, shuffling creeped in. Toward the front of the room came a sight only the history books discussed. Nearly all of the High Nine walked in. Their long, white coats dragged as they made their way onto the large dais and fell in rank off to either side of the opening in its center. The gold etched into their lapels matched the streaks of silver embedded in the ornamental stage. Each of them bore a patch for the division they oversaw and a button to signify their home zone. The flags along the rim of the stage did the same. All eyes gazed upon the rare sight for a moment but turned back to the stone circle as soon the officers took their positions. Despite such a historic moment, the masses didn’t revel in it. Though, Abel could not blame them. How could he? The first execution in ten years would soon be at hand.
To Abel’s right, the large oak doors guarding the entrance closed. Abel shut his eyes. His breaths shook, but he made them quiet. Behind his back, his fingers slipped past his intertwined grip. Sweat dripped from his hands. He glanced to his left. Rasheara stood stiff in her navy uniform. Many of the officers would have praised her for her form during such a difficult procession, but she had picked at and peeled the ends of her nails off behind her back. To the left of her stood little Cale, who attempted to hide his shaking by crossing his arms. His lip had split from nibbling at it.
Abel told them they didn’t have to come. It would not only be their first time seeing a Demi but also an execution. Still, they insisted. They told him, “Weakness won’t get us into the Ares Division.”
Abel sighed and glanced to his right. There stood Kane. He resembled a statue with its arms crossed behind its back. His hands toyed with one another, and his wild eyes took in the sights below. Kane’s nerves didn’t conquer him like Abel’s did. No. Unlike him, Kane eyed the tilted balance with a smile across his face. A smile which did not echo the same meaning as the one from their childhood. Abel’s eyes softened at the sight. Kane had never been to an execution before either.
Below them, the shifting began. Every eye not already gazing upon the stone circle turned and stared at it in silence. The balance symbol lying upon it split down the center and the stone retreated, leaving an opening deep enough even Abel couldn’t see the bottom. The shifting continued for minutes, yet his eyes could not leave the scene. This is justice, right? Slowly, shapes took form from within. A white platform filled the gap where the hole once stood and shuddered to a stop once it reached its peak. Upon it kneeled a naked man. His arms stretched to either side of him by shackles attached to the platform. His body resembled a painting with valleys of scars, mountains of fresh wounds, and rivers of blood streaked across its frame. And his once blonde hair blended so naturally with the crimson of his own blood it looked a tawny brown.
It’s just a man? Abel blinked hard as he gazed below. No, not a man, but a Demi. Yes, that’s it. An evil god possessing the body of a man. The Demi squinted, blinded by the light shining upon his entrance. He glanced around the room, eyeing every individual not with malice, but with desperation. The Demi looked down toward his chains and pulled. When they didn’t immediately snap, he pulled harder. He pulled harder and harder until blood pooled from his wrists. “Fuck… fuck!” He screamed. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, the chains didn’t snap.
Footsteps echoed from the front of the room between the platform where the officers stood.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The ominous footsteps grew closer and closer. All eyes shifted away from the center. Even the Demi froze in his shackles and stared ahead toward the stage.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
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From the doorway, a colossal figure took form. He stood at least two feet taller than the tallest in the room. He had short, black hair and a black stubble across his chin which contrasted with his pale skin. A scar snaked its way across the man’s left eye. Though the scar brought whispers, Abel couldn’t help but focus more on the physique of the man. His biceps shone larger than Abel’s head, and his thighs bore the width of Abel’s torso. He had the look of a man who could pop a human being open with one hand if he desired. Abel’s eyes glowed as the man walked across the stage. At that moment, a god stood before them. A god named Ares.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The footsteps stopped. Ares stood atop the platform, his crimson suit stretching against his large body. Beside him stood a man who most hadn’t seen in years. The man had no face because a mask covered the entirety of his features. The mask’s surface resembled a mirror and reflected all the faces looking upon it. His all-black suit showed little skin, and even his hands sat wrapped in the comfort of white gloves. The executioner.
Though Ares stopped, the executioner kept moving down toward the shackled Demi at the center of the room. His red tie stood stiff against his suit despite the quick clapping of his shoes against the solid marble floor. Every step he took echoed with purpose. With judgement.
As the executioner found his place beside the Demi, Ares cleared his throat. “We have all come here this evening to witness the punishment for crimes against the gods and humanity.” His voice shook Abel’s chest. Ares glanced toward the Demi at the center of the room. “Eris. Goddess of strife and discord. You are being sentenced to death for being a malevolent presence in the eyes of the gods. We will allow you to speak for yourself now and give a final testimony.”
The Demi stared at Ares searching for a scheme beneath his words. His eyes darted around, waiting for someone to give him an answer. Ares snickered. “Do you have nothing to say for yourself?” Ares asked. The Demi’s pleading gaze fell back upon Ares. Words tumbled from his lips.
“Pl-please! I beg you. I beg all of you!” His head twisted around, attempting to meet the gaze of those in the crowd. “I have done nothing. I have kept to myself all this time. I have a wife! A child! I am not a Demi. I am a man! My name is Mikel! Please… please just believe me.” Tears welled in his eyes as he thrashed within his confines. “Believe me. Please, just believe me!” Those words continued to stream from his lips. He struggled against the chains, pleading. Snot pooled from his nose. Ares scoffed and glanced toward the squirming Demi.
“Enough with these vicious customs,” Ares said. He nodded toward the executioner. The executioner nodded back and reached beneath his suit jacket revealing a long piece of metal which reflected as much as his mask. A silenced pistol. The Demi gazed upon its frame in horror and pulled against his confines, attempting to leave them behind.
“No. No. No. Please, gods, no! Laura, please help me. No!” he screamed. Tears flew from left to right, splattering across the executioner’s shoes.
“By the power invested in me by the Divine,” Ares said, a satisfied grin sprawled across his face. “I sentence you to death.” The man lurched out toward the crowd, pleading one last time. His head darted from left to right, up and down until it suddenly stopped. His gaze met another’s. Abel’s. For a moment, the Demi calmed. Abel froze, his hands pouring sweat. The Demi lurched toward him, attempting to cry out, but his body fell limp. His eyes laid open. Blood pooled below the executioner’s foot and leaked onto the floor below the platform, causing many citizens to retreat. Abel stared at the floor below, eyeing the Demi’s blood. It bled like everyone else. This is justice, right?
Two agents wearing white hazmat suits appeared from the doorway behind Ares. One carried cleaning supplies. The other carried a bag, Gagging echoed off to Abel’s left. He turned to see Cale lurch over and let a little vomit slip from his mouth into his own hand. Rasheara still stood tall, but blood now seeped from her nails. Shuffling took over the room as the masses turned to leave. Abel turned to check on Kane, but Ares cleared his throat once more. The entire building grew quiet, their gazes locked upon the deity standing at the judgement seat. “Bring her in,” Ares said. The agents sent to clean the body shifted off to the side of the platform and stood with their hands behind their backs. Footsteps echoed through the doorway.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Two agents wearing black suits appeared. Between them stood a woman. The marks across her body reached depths the Demi’s did not. Her rosy sundress drifted along with her every step, ripped and tattered, revealing cuts to match its color. The bloodstain on her hair blended well with its once red hue. Her legs dangled along the floor as they dragged her to the same spot where the Demi laid lifeless. She gazed upon his body as they shackled her in the same spot.
Abel stared at the scene, taking in the reality slowly coming to pass. He shook his head, tearing his eyes away to search the room for answers. Yet, no one moved. Abel glanced toward his friends, but they could only stare below. In a panic, Abel looked off to his right. Toward Kane. Yet there upon his friend’s face sat a wicked smile. Before Abel could say anything to him, Ares’s voice echoed once more throughout the building.
“Laura, wife of Eris, you are being sentenced to death for harboring a Demi. A crime that poses a threat to the gods and humanity.” Her gaze did not leave her husband. Abel nearly choked as he stared below. This time, a Demi did not writhe on the floor in chains or shed tears while pleading for mercy. There, where her husband laid dead on the floor, kneeled a woman.
Ares sighed. He eyed Laura’s unmoving form. “I’m not in the mood to recite those vicious words again. Your sentence is decided. Do you have any final statements?”
No one moved. Abel’s heart pounded in his chest. Laura’s eyes shifted slowly from her husband towards Ares. A quiet string of sorrow poured from her lips. “I am truly sorry for living,” she said. “Maybe the world can forgive me.” Silence. For a moment, Abel’s hands grew dry. This is justice, right?
Ares did not bother reciting the words. He nodded his head, and the executioner nodded his own. He raised the barrel of the gun to the base of her skull. Laura did not look ahead, nor did she look down. She gazed into the distance, far beyond what anyone in the room could see. This is justice, right? Yet, as the executioner squeezed the trigger, the question left Abel’s mind, and an answer took its place. It does not matter as long as I’m not the one holding the gun.
Abel’s eyes shut before the gun went off. To his left, Cale gagged and shuffled off behind him. By the time Abel opened his eyes, the cleaners were already on the scene. Muffled conversations began again as civilian and agent alike funneled out of the room. Abel looked to his left and met Rasheara’s gaze. She mustered a pitiful look, mouthed something Abel couldn’t make out, and began her march back toward their dorms. Abel adjusted his collar, sweat still staining its edge. Before getting ready to move, he turned to check on Kane. Yet Kane still looked down below. His wicked smile remained. “This,” Kane said, “This is our justice.” Kane looked back toward Abel. And with a slap on Abel’s back, they both marched back toward the dorms.