The day after Marshal Law was constant fear and dread. Heading north, we slept the days and traveled the nights, avoiding major highways from the police. Military was present, but whatever happened with the red-eyes, their vehicles were left behind. Things turned quiet. Too quiet. Something spooked people. Even the air felt thick with shock. I convinced Brian to turn on the radio for the news. The alien apology from the White House shuttered me and I tried disbelieving it. But still, aliens on Earth. Wow.
But the drive wasn’t as smooth as that.
God, Maggie. She did not stop screaming and convulsing for two days, still covered in red-eye blood. Sometimes we held her down as she seized until she fell asleep. Too engrossed in the shock, we ran out of options to snap her out of it. Whatever that Griffon-sounding red-eye did to her, I wanted to beat the guy with a baseball bat. Excuse my hate. She ate—very little—and did her business—no shower—but acted as if we were strangers. Heartbreaking.
I still wanted to protect her. The more I learned from Brian and Charlie’s survival techniques and experience with the military, the more confidence I felt. From Los Angeles to Oregon, we kept going. The news was off more times than on, for a reason. Whenever Maggie’s name was mentioned on the radio, she screamed and seized for an hour. She nearly threw herself out of the RV when Charlie drove one night. Cell phones, laptops, tablets, and GPS devices were gone. The police scanner was constant chatter as it helped to keep us hidden.
When we found a very remote location in Oregon, the one the Forest Service found us at, that’s when the transformations started. I was the first.
I had little knowledge of the process: the tattoo, the time, the change, the totem, the blue stuff…the screaming. Nobody told me about the pain or the room in my head. That Inner Sanctum place. Meeting Jano wasn’t easy. We didn’t speak for a week, but Brian and Charlie slowly accepted him. My transformation also demolished a few trees, with enough firewood for a month. I never liked my tail, or the armor, or the ears; I was an eyesore to the guys. Although, the strength wasn’t all that bad.
I disliked the magic, it got me into trouble, a lot.
A week later, Maggie was next. The toll was too much for her, including the tattoo on her forehead. After the change and meeting her totem, well, she never left the RV.
----------------------------------------
Cascade Mountains, Oregon
March 5, 2013
10:10 AM
The water reached boiling. I took the kettle and poured it over the coffee grounds that morning. The only jobs for me was making coffee and the food. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, with half, little, or no help from the guys. I never cooked in my life, but strangely, I felt at peace with it instead of astronomy.
The totems stood on my shoulders, watching me make it. Jano on my right and Herina on my left. The fire pit crackled as the real birds of the forest chirped. We were grateful for the thick tree cover. The protection was suitable for our camp; no aircraft could spot the camp without looking real hard for the smoke. But it hurt me as an astronomer; the clouds covered the stars. The forest was darker than my closet at night.
Charlie sat by, sharpening his hunting knife. The braced right hand held his grinding stone. Still human, though, he turned from a clean student to a grizzled survivalist. His clothes were ragged yet retained structure, a lot of hunting under his hands. Was that during the Iraq War, or was it before he learned all this stuff?
I was the same, without the hunting and gathering. I haven’t shaved or cut my hair; it felt oily every day, and it itched. Layers were worn to keep the cold air and rain out. The fire helped. Man, did I miss a real shower, and a real sandwich.
“Coffee done?” Charlie asked and I nodded. I poured both of us a cup. Me leaning over was a sign my broken ribs were healed from the transformation. Charlie took it black. I added two sugars from the kitchen counter a.k.a. unstable folding table by the fire pit.
“Arm feeling any better, Charlie?” I asked him.
“The heating pads and hot water aren’t helping anymore.” His tone made me worried. The broken bones were set, but the pain lingered every day. “Still need more pain killers.”
A twig broke. We looked up and readied ourselves. Charlie still had the pistol from the escape. I took the knife from him and pulled out my gun from the back of my pants, close to my terran tail. My mana was never charged, Jano had the mana heart shut down since I was still lacking control.
Brian came from behind a tree, carrying two dead rabbits in one hand and his hunting rifle on his shoulder. He looked much like us, with more care to conceal his identity. Sunglasses, baseball hat, and white whiskers. He was the one and only one to go into town—far from the campsite—to pick up basic supplies. Not even a grocery store sandwich. He can budget money well so we could survive a week on ten dollars.
“Damn rabbits are hard to find these days,” he complained, setting the meat on the table. “I think it’s our fault. I’ll get a deer for next month.”
“Can I scout for you, Mr. Wilkinson,” Jano offered, glowing eyes blinking.
“Why not?” Brian poured his own cup of coffee, but stayed pretty far from me.
When I was new to magic, I couldn’t control my mana charging, like you saw a while ago and with Agent Dunkan. I almost blew off Brian’s leg once; he spooked me, then threatened me if I even performed magic around him he’ll rip my ears off my head. Sometimes I did nothing and it was charged at full strength. Couldn’t control it for the life of me. The last week Jano and me were figuring out self-control, but the risk was too great for a screw up. Since then, my mana heart was shut down. Brian, well, he treated Maggie and me like second-grade citizens. Charlie was sympathetic, but he did not show it to Brian.
Charlie helped butcher the rabbits as I cooked the meat, as usual. Brian patrolled the area.
Again, no magic. I still couldn’t understand how it worked, and I played WoW as a mage. I have no problem using a gun. The spellbook Jano pulled out of my body scared me. Not reading the pages, just the thought of a full book in my head with spells I was too afraid of learning. My body was amusement sometimes to the guys. Charlie called me a gringo night elf mutant for a week until it wasn’t funny anymore.
An hour later, the rabbit stew was ready. I stood by as Brian filled his bowl before us.
“It’s your turn to feed her, Chad,” Brian said sitting down on the log.
“Y-You sure?”
“Is magic making you forget? Go do it.” It was my turn; he was right. I hated him being so snippy at me.
I filled Maggie’s bowl. I walked to the RV as Brian moved a chess piece on the board by the fire. “Check,” he said and walked off, followed by a “fuck you” from Charlie. They kept playing each other since we arrived, one of other board games to pass the time.
“Hang on,” Herina the robin said and I stopped. “Just be ready. I heard something smash this morning.”
I took a few breaths, then walked in.
The RV was more of mess than during Marshal Law. Outside looked normal, say for the flat front tire, the tarp awning held by two dead tree branches, and the plywood cover on top covering where the red-eye came down. Trash, tools and camping gear littered the inside. Hard enough to walk through, let alone the stale air and the smell of just about anything. The door to the bedroom and bathroom was locked all the time. I took another slow breath.
“Just take it slow, Chad,” Herina added. “She was active this morning, crying, but still slept.”
“At least she’s sleeping,” I said nodding.
I wasn’t worried about Maggie attacking me. It was hoping she didn’t kill herself. Many, many times, she almost succeeded.
Trouble was, she communicated with Herina more than us, then Herina is a carrier pigeon to us. That day, I haven’t seen her for three days, yet we heard her. We rarely convinced her to come out, only to get a glassy stare and slam the door in our faces. Ask Brian, he preferred she’d stay in there.
I set my stew on the table, held Maggie’s, and knocked three times on the door. “It’s me. Chad,” I said. “I brought you lunch. Rabbit stew. I know you like it.”
The stillness loomed through me. Blankets never rustled.
I sighed. “Please. Please be awake. I…I want to see you. Don’t be like this.”
Still nothing, leaving the three of us hanging.
“I think she did it. I’m going in.”
“Nonsense,” Herina sighed, “she’s probably in a bad mood. I’ll tell you when she wants food. And if she died, I’d be gone like dust.”
Sheer disappointment. The dread crawled up me like fog. Another day not seeing Maggie. And if I did open the door, she would attack. No kidding, she did that once.
Thinking back, I believed this was my fault. Maybe if I didn’t yell at her that day and screw up the telescope, none of this would happen. Well, the asteroid would still crash, mutate every human, and plunge this country into near ruin, but the spotlight would be on someone else. Safe in our homes, hoping for a cure. Would Project Starscape be finished without us? Probably. The more I thought about the alternative, I always came back to working with Maggie these past years. If the asteroid weren’t discovered, where would I be? Would I stay with Maggie despite the resignation? I had trouble thinking beyond it, like I came up to a brick wall. Was there no future, or no choice?
Then, I heard wood creak. I looked up. The door lock turned, then it slid on the track. I held my breath.
Maggie’s fingers gripped the door, than her whole arm appeared, showing off the terran armor plating. Each muscle twitch shifted the plates. Then the door slid wide open.
The stench hit me. Like I said, she rarely took a shower.
Maggie’s light brown hair was so tangled and matted it hid her elf ears. Eyes looked tired even at high noon. A straight “I don’t care about anything” face of sheer dull. Her tail showed no life, dangling lifeless behind her. The grey sweats Brian got in town were her only clothes, day after day. We were able to burn her old blood-caked clothes months ago. The intrigue and liveliness I admired since high school was gone, and I mean gone.
She became catatonic and developed post-traumatic stress disorder. She suffered minor random seizures, sometimes daily or weekly. The most damaging was her voice. Her vocal cords were blown from all the screaming.
It reminded me too much of a depressed neighbor killing herself. I quickly forgot those painful memories. Then again, her body looked fit and healthy than I could ever imagine, like every terran. Did she know how strong she felt? Did she even notice the magic inside of her?
Maggie looked at her lunch and passed me a notepad scribbled with black lead. Not hungry.
“Please, Helen, just for me. You need food.”
Maggie scribbled, still not hungry.
“Helen. Please, I…This is all I got. I don’t know what to do.”
“We can’t do anything in your state,” Herina said. “Not even your spirit guide I’m afraid. You need food.”
She looked down for a few seconds, thinking. She sighed. Her tail twitched. She stepped aside.
I blinked. This was new. Thanks Herina.
I set her lunch on the small table, amongst the trash-laden bedroom. The window shades stayed down. Her only light was above her bed, casting long shadows. When Maggie turned a certain way, her face was gone.
“Girl, you know this is hard for me to see,” Herina said. “You are a proud astronomer, not trailer trash. It’s been over three months now. Please come outside. Vitamin D is good for your mind.”
Maggie scribbled on her notepad again, showing us with furry in her eyes. Not any more. I’m done.
Herina sighed. The same answer every time.
“What the robin said,” I started. “Every day is the same with you. It breaks my heart seeing you like this. Even Brian and Charlie.” Not really Brian, but I believed he felt bad for her. “Helen. You are, or were, my idol. You’re acting like a mental patient. I can’t take it.” My throat got caught. Oh no. Not again.
Maggie dropped to the bed. Her hands and mouth twitched, and in one second she covered her face as she cried.
Every time I reminded her the reason I looked up to her, it was a punch to the face for Maggie. My emotions said those words, not me. And to her, she was disappointed in herself.
“Hang on, Helen,” I said. I sat beside her and hugged her. “Easy, easy, I’m sorry, Helen. Take deep breaths.” The totems flew to the headboard.
Maggie rocked back and forth in my arms. Her damaged vocal cords made her wheeze with every gasp and cry. Each sound was a definitive punch to my guilt. She slid off the bed, taking me with her. She buried her face in my chest, tears staining my jacket.
Charlie walked in. “Oh great, what did you do now?”
“Charlie, close the door and get out!” Jano yelled. He left without fighting and closed it.
It took Maggie several minutes to calm down, still shacking and wheezing. She crawled to her notepad, to which Herina was standing on it. The robin showed tears too. Could real birds cry?
Maggie gently pushed her aside, flipped a new page, and wrote in a fetal position.
He destroyed me, Chad. I have nothing. I have nobody. I want to die.
I shook my head. “No. No. You’re wrong.” I tried yanking the notebook from her, but she fought to keep it. “You have somebody and you don’t need to die. Me, and Charlie, and Brian. Don’t forget, he destroyed me too. You’re not alone!”
You are young. You can get through. Leave me.
“Forget it. I-I’m staying.” I started to cry, but not to match Maggie’s torment.
It was Hawaii all over again. She told me in my face she was finished at Keck, and again in the RV. I refused to accept it. Why? Because I stayed with her.
“Helen, you’re not finished,” I started. “You’re here. You’re alive. The last two years, you gave everybody hope before the strike. It wasn’t your fault. None of it was. Stop taking it personally.” My breath got caught in my throat. “It… it was the best years of my life. With you. I didn’t like it either, but…working with you was…worthwhile. Please get better. Please, snap out of it. I wanna see you smile again.”
More tears from my eyes. I squeezed her more. We collapsed into the carpet.
“Please…please…Maggie. Be strong for me,” I said.
The thing is, I never said Maggie’s first name since I met her, or to anybody. I always said her last name. My mother taught me to treat every professional human being with respect, dignity, and pride, and I did just that. Calling her by her first name felt like an unprofessional move, like treating her as a friend rather than a true professional. If not Helen, it was doctor, or ma’am, or miss. Never personal. When Maggie took her suffering personal, I did too. I wasn’t afraid of Maggie hitting me, or using magic. If she even used magic at all, I’d notice.
She did none of that. She calmed down so fast I was taken back. She rolled to face me. I pushed the hair from her face. Her expression hit me. Like…something clicked.
Maggie wrote on a new page with big letters.
Thank you for being human. Stay with me. Being alone is awful.
It’s hard to describe what I felt that second without simple scientific terms. My admiration for Maggie all my life came to view: her tenacity, her motivation, her workmanship, her accomplishments, her attitude (sometimes), and her smile. All those times with her, just from those words, came together like a wrecking ball of reality.
I felt Maggie’s warmth for the first time.
“You sure?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Chad, Ms. Helen, are you two okay?” Jano asked.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
I was quiet for a second. “Yeah.” I coughed. “Go outside. Give us a minute. Or an while.”
Jano and Herina flew out. I locked the RV and bedroom door. I turned as Maggie stripped off her sweats.
----------------------------------------
Physics and Astronomy Building, UCLA
March 7, 2013
12:01 PM
“I…I was never attracted to Maggie until that day,” Chad said between sniffs, wiping his tears with his hands. “I thought of disrespecting her was too much. I hope I did the right thing, she thanked me before she fell asleep, and didn’t wake up.”
Xi’Tra met two terrans and several humans in her visits to Terra Firma. She learned much from them. She couldn’t help but be shaken by Chad’s story. Three times Griffon ruined normal lives. Who else did that Reaper affect? Personal wise, she knows what it’s like to loose a loved one. Her father for one. She wore his suit to show how much she loved and respected the former and well respected RNN reporter.
She kept herself strong, trying not to cry with him.
“Something…I don’t know…magical about it,” Chad continued. “I mean, when we did it, our bodies-“
Xi’Tra coughed. “Y-You can save those details,” she said. “No disrespect, Mr. Fipps.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Although, there were certain boundaries Xi’Tra wanted to keep out of.
Chad sniffed. “So, everything else was…you know,” he said with a smile. “Then the next day she couldn’t wake up. Not even Herina could.”
“Totems can enter and exit their hosts at will, from what I know. Surly they can talk in the mind.”
“That’s the thing. Herina couldn’t find her. Her spirit or something.” Chad started flicking his thumbs. “I swear, miss. It wasn’t my fault. I did nothing…but make her happy. She can’t be gone. There’s no way that’s possible.”
Tears streamed down Chad’s cheeks again. Xi’Tra swallowed, the first time seeing a human mutant cry. She had no clue how to remedy the situation. Was it a tissue? Pat on the back? An offering of tea? Slap in the face?
“I understand,” she commented, the best to her ability. “So when you and the two veterans couldn’t wake her up, that’s when you signaled the Forest Service.”
Chad wiped his tears again. “T-That’s right. God. Sorry about this.” He set the halo on the table, then covered his face to calm down. Even his emotions were not needed for the Archives.
Jano the blue jay looked up to Xi’Tra shrugging his shoulders, like he was waiting for Xi’Tra to do something positive.
“I had people break down before. Forgive me but remember, I’m still not familiar with humans and terrans.”
“I wondered about that,” Jano cleared. “Come on, Chad, it’s hard to ball up like this.”
Chad sniffed up snot. “Um,” he started. “Heard anything about her?”
“I heard that she’s still in the hospital without change. Her totem is with her too?” Xi’Tra asked.
Chad nodded.
Then the familiar interview silence, whether the person wants to continue or not. She turned off the device and closed her notebook. “Sorry for your heartache.” Hope I did it right.
Chad sniffed and thanked her, Jano included. Oh thank Javo. But she was not done.
“Can we continue with a couple questions before you leave? Or hungry?” Xi’Tra asked. Not much protestor action, most of them left when police and alien bodyguards kept at it. The diehards tried camping out with little success. At least it’ll be easier when Chad leaves.
“I’m not sure I can answer anymore,” Chad answered, much calmer.
“Well, there’s the terran part. What I know from terran transformations is that they heal the human body in extreme levels. My species has magical abilities so I can almost understand terran magic. My question is why was her vocal cords not healed?”
Chad leaned back, hands on his lap. “I don’t know, miss, I-I really don’t know. Before I transformed my shoulder was bruised to that I couldn’t move it above my head and two ribs were cracked, but yeah the healing I noticed. Believe me, we looked at Maggie’s vocal cords before and after. Ripped apart. The doctor assumes it was stress and trauma.”
Xi’Tra hummed. “Guess terran magic has its healing limits.”
Chad nodded.
“Then I guess were do…Oh, one last thing.” She opened her notebook again. “You’re totem mentioned that you had a promise to keep. Is it referring to Maggie?”
Chad nodded again.
“Is it private?”
Chad shook his head.
“Care to say what it was?”
“Yeah,” Chad said. “Before we went to sleep that night, she wrote this.” Chad reached into his pants pocket for a small piece of paper. He unfolded it.
“Pursue every piece of knowledge, you never know where it will take you. Clear my name, Chad. Wait for me.”
Chad folded the paper and put it back in his pocket, the one piece he will always cherish, and hope when Maggie wakes up. “Can you help clear her name?”
Xi’Tra nodded with a smile. “Off the record, with my help in the underground communities in the galaxy, I’ll do just that.”
----------------------------------------
Kaiser Permanente Medical Center
Los Angeles, CA
March 8, 8:07 PM
Chad Fipps concluded his interview with the alien reporter, then was taken to a secure hotel before brought forth to a Terra Firma press conference. But as Chad defended his reasons to a confused world, the rest of the day, former astronomer Maggie Helen slept in her hospital bed.
Herina the robin sat on the EKG monitor, looking down at Maggie like a guardian. No abnormalities in Maggie’s heart rate or brain patterns since admission. The doctors could not explain her condition; then again, terrans existed for three months and terran biology was still new. Her breathing was not hooked to life support, her unnatural coma somehow kept her lungs active. Like every terran, they spooked the hospitals. It’s rare these days seeing terrans in hospitals due to their fast healing rates, but the magic was a major concern for risk management. Some hospitals banned them from treatment. Political issues including the Terran Equality Act could only put pressure on hospitals to comly. But she was there, pressured by the FBI, to keep her secure, and a chance to wake up.
Maggie was cleaned head to toe with strong soaps. Her hair was shaved to a buzz cut; the nurses couldn’t untangle her hair in the bath. She was in pristine health like every terran on the street, just sleeping in, wasting the hospitals time and money.
The door of Maggie’s private and secure room opened. Herina nodded at the mid-forties nurse. Short and chubby, just how Maggie was in seventh grade, before she started hiking. “Evening, Dorris,” Herina said. Outside, three SWAT officers stood guard.
“How is Ms. Helen doing? Any changes on your end?” She was used to totems.
“Still no change,” the robin said. “Please, let me convince Dr. Hangar one more time. I’m sure there are drugs to pull Maggie from this.”
“Um…” Dorris started. “I think you’ve done quite enough. Dr. Hangar is still refusing to treat terrans, even her. I’m sorry but if I was her doctor, I’d be on it in a second.”
The robin sighed. “Very well.”
“No safe drug can pull her from this. We must have faith in the Lord.”
“Certainly.” The Helen family was all Christians, to which Herina believed as well.
The nurse set her hand on the hospital bed, looking down. “Comas are questionable. It might take weeks for her to wake up.”
“Something tells me this ain’t no normal coma.”
A knock on the door. “Wonder who that is?” Dorris said walking over.
A young man stood at the door wearing casual clothes, including a red and white plaid shirt. “Hey Dorris,” he said. “Took me forever to convince these guards who I was. Sorry for the delay, sometimes it’s hard just to catch you for a talk.”
Herina remembered him. She seen him on the floor many times fixing the nurse’s computer issues.
“I know. Everybody is being questioned, Max,” Dorris said. “I dealt with high-profile situations at other hospitals. It’s something to get used to. What is it?”
“Well I’m not here for Dr. Helen…”
“Ms. Helen,” Herina corrected him. “Her title is gone.”
Max swallowed. Another not used to terrans or totems. He coughed. “Just telling you that I’m doing my usual rounds. The Wave’s damage to the network is almost done on the north end of the building,” Max explained.
Dorris nodded. “Oh, of course. It’s a shame it’s just you, Jim and the other five fixing this.”
Max nodded with an eye roll. “Talk to you later,” he said and walked out. Not a single look back to Herina. Some nerve.
"Such a nice boy," Dorris commented and went back to examining the monitors. "I'd love to know what she went through."
"Soon enough thanks to Mr. Fipps," Herina added. “The better her story is told, the quicker her name is cleared.
The nurse nodded. "Didn't know he had a partner. Huh. Well would you like anything?"
Herina shook her head, kept looking down at Maggie.
"Feel free to call for anything. The call button is still there.“ Dorris showed the robin the call pad and the red button. Once pressed, a nurse will come. They had to answer immediately, or the floor manager would get a strike from the FBI. Dorris walked out of the room. A long and saddening silence bloomed in the room, despite the small chatter from the hospital floor.
Herina had nothing to help Maggie. She knew her from birth, like every totem. Her habits, mannerisms, personality, and body—she knew everything. Totems are true representations of their hosts. Bonded until the end. Yet she felt disconnected from her. Alone. Unable to continue. She had no idea where Maggie was mentally. Her Inner Sanctum was deserted.
Terran magic is new, even to Herina, but it still did not explain where Maggie’s conscious mind went. She searched every corner, every brain cell, and came up empty. Herina would damn herself if Chad had anything to do with Maggie’s condition.
"What do I do?" Herina pondered.
The door opening and closing brought Herina back. The robin looked up after shaking the stiffness in her wings. "Oh, Agent Dunkan. How did the interview go for Chad?"
Dunkan locked the door. He was quiet, then he moved so fast Herina had little chance to squak.
Herina was smashed animal by Dunkan’s fist. The walk cracked by his punch, and it was solid concrete. He felt no pain hitting steel rebar. He pulled his fist back, the bird carcass falling.
"Dammit," he said. " I was certain he and Helen knew about Griffon’s form. What a fucking waste of my time. Wish I could’ve killed that kid with one swoop, but no, that damn mercenary had to be there." He wiped the blood from his knuckles, but the blood started transmuting into mana, the essential ingredient for terran magic.
Looking down at Maggie—the vulnerable terran in a coma—Dunkan detested her. He hated his job. He was told to hunt down Maggie when she surfaced, three months ago, and kill her. The wait in the bureau irritated him, yet offered him sustenance from the human criminals that happen to die suddenly on official reports. The coma or terran body was unexpected, his job hit a bump.
He was unsure if Chad said everything true, or covering the real truth. No matter what, his job had to finish. The guards were killed, silently, and left as lifeless corpses in the hallway. No time to hide them; the meal was good, but he was sure that Maggie’s death would be sweeter to Griffon’s stomach.
If Chad was allowed to live, Maggie was not. Griffon’s task must be completed.
He looked down at Maggie and said, "This is from Griffon. Your soul still belongs to him."
He rolled his shoulders with a crack, then a ten foot reaper scythe appendage erupted from his back, hovering over Maggie. The polished white ivory gleamed from the lights. The black skin bearing it rippled with muscle.
He paid little attention to Herina’s crushed body. It dissolved to mana, then transmuted into wisps of magical energy, rushing to merge with Maggie’s body by her exposed neck.
In the act of totem death, they merge into a singular terran. Indication of the merge is by the tattoo glow. Unlike Chad Fipps’ lineage, Maggie was pure Greek. Blue/white Greek tattoos erupted everywhere on her body, even her face. Some tattoos glowed through her short hair. They dimmed and brightened in random patterns.
Within Maggie’s mind, one word echoed. “MAGGIE!” Herina screamed before she went dormant.
As Dunkan’s scythe came down, hunger greater than food, Maggie raised her glowing tattooed arms and stopped the blade an inch above her chest. Both palms were flat against the ivory. Her strength matched the scythe’s.
Dunkan gripped the bed with both hands, resisting the force he created. He tried pulling his scythe, but the strength Maggie expelled was too great. Her arms were set as stone. “What is going on here?!” He even tried pulling Maggie’s arms away with no sign of relief, but letting go, his hands were burned by Maggie’s Greek tattoos as charred marks, followed by a curse in pain.
Maggie’s eyes opened. The merge also makes the terran’s iris’ glow bright blue, with certain benefits.
“Shit,” Dunkan cursed again, still trying to break free.
Maggie turned her head, staring at Dunkan. Then the reaper was hit in the mind with heavy psychic energy. Beads of sweat came off his nearly bald head. A voice ringed through his head.
I…am…not…DONE!
Dunkan growled like a Reaper. With the commotion happening, the EKG showed no changes to Maggie’s patterns.
“Impossible,” Dunkan said low, to not raise suspicion from the hall. “Y-You’re supposed to be in a coma.”
The scythe jerked, yet Maggie’s inhuman gripped kept it planted above her. You were going to kill me. I’m nowhere near ready for Heaven, demon.
Her tattooed hands seeped mana, oozing onto the ivory. Dunkan’s eyes widened and jerked harder. “No, no. Lord, no!”
One drop and the reaper bit his tongue. The mana burned. Just was Griffon described, mana burned like lava to mortal flesh. More mana seeped under Maggie’s palms, melting through the dense bone.
Dunkan fell on one knee. His strength left him. He could not believe what was happening. He was immortal, yet he was loosing to a mortal magical mutant.
Don’t take me by a fool, monster, Maggie projected. I studied my doctorate while living next door to a frat house full of drunk assholes. If I can memorize the countless laws of astrological physics and inspire others, I can self-teach terran magic in a few days.
“But…you were catatonic, you were broken,” Dunkan whispered.
Not until Chad finally manned up. Did you kill him? Did you kill my lover!?
The mana spread from Maggie’s palms, plus those last words pained Dunkan’s mind. The burning grew. The appendage twitched.
That’s right. Feel that burn. That spellbook in my head told me much, Maggie thought. Secrets that tell a bit about Reapers. The moment Herina died, I see your true form. I’m way past being scared by a hooded space demon.
Dunkan darted to Maggie’s eyes. “No,” he whispered, then snarled. “You know too much.”
I’m done with you. Tell me, did you kill Chad? I swear to God if you did…μορφή μάνα ακίδα.
Those words were heard by Maggie’s mana, and the mana obeyed.
A pool collected over her sternum, her hospital gown burned away to expose the skin. The pool then grew upward to a point as the mana shrunk, condensed, and hardened into a dark blue spike, laced with glowing blue Greek lettering.
“Lord. What did you do?” Dunkan exclaimed.
I mastered mana weapons in my sleep, Dunkan. Or is that your fake name?
Maggie dashed her left hand above the scythe and jammed the tip into the adjacent wall. She sat up and grabbed hold of Dunkan’s shirt. Some mana on her hand stained the fabric, but some was reaching for Dunkan’s neck like sideways water droplets about to fall. Dunkan was too afraid to punch the terran.
Think it, monster. Did, you kill, my lover!?
With no strength, the fear of dying came. He did not want to end up like Griffon. Dunkan shook his head. He rolled his eyes. They started glowing red as a reaper’s. He’s not worthy of killing.
Then tell me. Where’s Griffon? He owes me my reputation.
Maggie adjusted Dunkan so the spike was facing his chest. She sent more mana to it, growing inch by inch.
My spellbook told me that Reapers are deadly allergic to terran mana. Curious, really, to say that it said that through several pages. Wonder what happens when I puncture your heart? Will you burn up like a fucking vampire? Or make you come out of that stupid disguise?
A side effect, or gift, that when a terran closes their eyes during totem death, they see energy. The life of a tree. The remnant energy in Wave crystals. Power grids. Human and terran nervous systems.
Seeing through the reaper’s concealment spell. Maggie memorized the grotesque reptilian/insectoid Malcar’Ji. Dunkan’s true face did not create future nightmares. She was done being afraid.
The spike grew more, and Dunkan pulled back a little.
“I-I’ll tell, I’ll tell,” he confessed and coughed as his throat burned. “Griffon is alive. He alive. He can’t heal well but he is still in command.”
The spike stopped a millimeter from Dunkan’s skin.
Someone hurt him? Maggie thought.
“Yes. Very bad. A young man from Temecula. He fucked him up so much he’s unrecognizable, and his wounds can’t heal. We can’t kill the man, he’s too protected,” Dunkan admitted. “I beg you, don’t make me like Griffon. I love my face.”
Maggie was silent, and that scared Dunkan more.
“Please. Please don’t kill me. I’m just a servant to Master Griffon. I came here to finish his job. Just the job, I swear.”
The scythe tried to get out of the wall, but Maggie pinned it. I have so many reasons to kill you. Right here.
“You know about us. The witnesses must die to protect our Nexus.” Dunkan set a foot on the hospital bed, trying to pull away from Maggie.
Maggie’s tattoos brightened to match the lights. Even if you try killing me, this scythe will not be able to.
“Y-You wouldn’t da-“ Dunkan bit his tongue again.
Maggie’s mana-covered hand burned through the blade with one push. It was like a flaming cannonball punching through the ivory, but it was her exact hand. The edges were smoldered to charcoal. That will be permanent.
I discovered Asteroid Helen and went against anybody that questioned my knowledge. Would I bluff? Maggie’s lip curled with enough fear to rip through Dunkan.
When Maggie pushed more mana into the spike, Dunkan took a ditch effort to get free. He pulled Maggie’s leads. The EKG let off alarms of cardiac arrest, enough to throw Maggie off guard.
Dunkan pulled his scythe away from the wall, then Maggie’s hand from her grasp. And with a blink of an eye, Dunkan teleported out.
Get back here! She got out of bed and occupied the space where Dunkan was. Gone. Without a trace. With nothing but her hospital gown exposed behind her, her body was blazing with tattoo light. Her tail swayed with anger, light trailed behind it like a laser pointer.
She did not here the whole time the door was being forced open by SWAT officers. The first ones were on the floor in puddles of blood. Dorris came through and gasped. Maggie readied herself to send a force push, but held steady.
“Holy Mother of May! Dr. Helen!?”
Her tattoos died and heard Herina scream, It’s over, you did good. We got some explaining to do.
Maggie breathed fast, but her rage and anger stood with her.
I’ll kill him, I’ll kill that bastard, she thought. You hear me, Herina, I will kill Griffon before I die.
Herina talked her to calm down as a group of nurses and doctors came to her aid.
----------------------------------------
Dunkan appeared over an abandoned warehouse miles away. He smashed through the ceiling and crashed on the concrete floor, back first, at terminal velocity, creating a foot deep crater. The Reaper was not hurt by the crash, just jangled.
The magic allergy, however, lingered and never lessoned.
He was immortal. It was proven; he could not die. His brothers and sisters as well. The pain throughout his body was nothing he ever felt. His throat burned a little, fearing some mana dripped free. He rolled to his side, grunting. He crawled from the crater, then looked behind him in sheer fright.
Dunkan’s scythe was unusable, his one, powerful weapon of death. He lifted it and looked through the hand-shaped hole in the middle of the bone.
That hole would never heal. Ever. And if he used his scythe, the force would break its structure.
A phone ring from his pants pocket. Griffon’s number was on the screen.
“Shit.” His fingers trembled to accept the call. “Master?”
A heavy cough came before a raspy voice saying, “Is it taken cared of?”
Dunkan swallowed. “The…The scapegoat tricked and overpowered me after I killed her totem. I-I failed, Master.”
The Reaper scream blared though the phone’s speaker. Dunkan pulled it away. “And you call yourself a Reaper!” Griffon yelled. “You’re no better than a bumbling hatchling!” A series of heavy, flem-filled coughs came after. “What did I say about killing the totem? Repeat those words, worm.”
“Never kill them, they unlock the mana heart.”
“Exactly. You never listen to me. They are as much trouble as the mutants themselves!” More heavy coughing, with mucus building up. “Why I will…see if that brain…is able to keep going!”
“Master, settle. You’re not well.”
“To the Nether with my health! Now there’s more that knows our presence thanks to you!” A pause. “Every…single time. These mutants are getting troublesome.”
Dunkan was hesitant to explain the events, from discovery to the trap, even trying to remember the details to Griffon. He paced through the warehouse, bear of objects or remnants of human industry. Wall to wall was covered in graffiti, a gang site probably.
He relayed his injuries. Griffon didn’t sound surprised. “Any others? Can you still do your job?”
“Sir. I’m not sure. My scythe might break if I go after her. She might be creating ways to protect herself.”
“Don’t bother, Dunkan. You’ve done enough screw ups. My followers are still cleaning up the Utah propaganda mess you created. You left the general’s head there. I might take his soul from you as punishment. Might. The Queen will be notified.”
Dunkan gasped, “No, no, don’t tell her! I promise, no more screw-ups. I’ll finish the job!”
“Forget it! What’s done is done. It will be a lucky chance to get her now.” Griffon coughed hard, longer than before. The stress was too much on his body. Dunkan could imagine him, in Reaper form, still without prosthetics. Dunkan was sure his scythe would never grow back.
“Also,” Griffon returned. “This new information you shared in very troubling.”
“The spellbook and the spike, yes,” Dunkan reminded him.
“Yes. If it’s true, then it’s possible others might’ve. Our truth might be blown. Nevertheless, Maggie Helen is the first to manifest weapons. I fear this will bring doom to all Malcar’Ji.” A second pause. “Dunkan, I should’ve been there personally to kill her. I knew I should’ve picked her.”
It was so personal, Dunkan agreed. It was Griffon’s responsibility.
“What do we do, master?” Dunkan asked.
“Forget the scapegoat, we’ll figure something…delicate, than your actions,” Griffon answered. “It’s bad enough the Halcunac mercenary keeps looking for clues. I need you to join the others.”
“You mean…feeding?” Dunkan asked, licking his lips. His scythe appendage twitched from the thought, then retracted back into his back. “Oh, Lord. I want some souls so bad.”
“Close. We have wandering souls appearing.”
Dunkan stopped walking. “Wandering souls? Master, we haven’t had those since the Black Plague.”
“I remember. They are appearing across certain areas. I want this investigated, Dunkan. If you get your scythe patched as you gather information, there might be a buffet down the road.”
Dunkan’s mouth watered at the thought of fresh souls to eat, even aged souls.
“Just recon, nothing else, and don’t go after Helen, Fipps, or the two veterans. In fact, stay the hell away from the mutants. We still haven't figured out why we’re allergic to terran magic.”
Dunkan fist pumped. “I promise, Master, I will not fail you this time.”
“And one more thing,” Griffon added. “Get a new identity. Helen is bound to expose you and put the bureau on your tail.”
Dunkan was ahead of him, planning a new body in his head. Maybe a woman this time. A rich one at that.
The former FBI agent hanged up and walked out, hoping that a giant bottle of painkillers will help the injuries. Titanium will fill in the hand hole. Still, he’s marked by Maggie Helen. He had to keep that scythe hidden to not be discovered.