Twirling, savoring the summer air,
her smile new and fresh.
This morning is full of dew!
Flowers bloomed in the cool air of a day to turn hot.
Parasol in hand, she looks to the birds.
They fly so grand, so high, no fear to fall.
Could this life be real?
Can this joy last forever?
Or could it be that birds fear to fly?
Flowers fear to bloom?
Could a day so full of joy, end in tragedy?
Could a great tragedy, end in true joy?
Powder blue is her parasol.
Powder blue is her dress.
These questions she asks to herself with a smile.
And chooses over these, to not fret.
God may judge the birds from the sky.
He may judge the petals from a plant.
Will not a crow always be a crow?
Parasol in hand, she too shall always be.
For good and bad, could look either way.
Could they not?
A crow remembers a face.
And a woman remembers her scorn.
The birds soar on their wings.
They circle the dead, awaiting their meal.
The petals of the flowers open.
The poisons of their pastel, waiting to kill.
Is the bird evil for eating what it eats?
Is the flower evil for poisoning whom it poisons?
The sun in her hair, and breeze on her cheeks;
her own pastel blues, not a poison.
She did not circle to eat the dead.
She did not plot to poison the unwary.
A day of beauty.
A day of death.
The bird landed on her hand.
The flower stood tall near her feet.
The bird, she broke its wings.
The flower, she crushed its stem.
Now, the bird need not fear.
The flower need not be judged.
What a beautiful day, one not evil nor good.
Not a day of neutral, nor a day of death.
She was what she was.
And she had much more to destroy.
~The Blue Lady, a poetic draft
~Feldyn Goldchord, the Endless Bard
* * *
The amount of food that these skinny children ate was astounding!
Upon returning to the dining hall (and dealing with Gigi’s disaster...), Reba had suggested an indoor barbecue of sorts, to unanimous approval. With a full spread planned: hamburgers, hot dogs, chicken breasts, and ears of corn (even a few steaks!); John had been certain there would be too much food. Then, Ally started making more! With Reba shooing her assistance away, John was flabbergasted as the girl began to make homemade BBQ sauce, sauteing onions and garlic, even a potato salad from scratch! All the while complaining there wasn't time to let things marry overnight...
And even with so much food, this group had almost cleared the table! Feldyn had eaten a ridiculous share, Stryker ate as much as any man, John had put away enough to think that he would explode. Yet, those kids -Reba being included is his mental grouping- had easily eaten enough that they should surely be dead. Even Gigi had eaten nearly as much as Feldyn. They were so skinny! John hadn’t seen many thin healthy people in the last dozen years, aside from Reba. One of the reasons she became a dancer, he supposed. Her physique and voracious appetite seemed to be common in the dance world. But still… that was a lot of food!
Six year old Gigi, was so full that she thought she was going to fall over. She only ate two burgers! With cheese and pickles! Ughhhh… she had eaten way too many pickles. And a hot dog… Oh, that chicken looks good! Ally slid her plate away from the kids reach, giving her a 'Get your own!' look.
“So, Feldyn, I’ve been wondering…” Caleb started, finishing his unknown what number hot dog (with brown mustard, sweet relish, diced onion, and sauerkraut). It was time to quit being tiptoed around. “What exactly is the enemy planning?” The laughter at the table began to die down. “What is this research of yours? What views do you have that makes you so unique?” Caleb looked at John, then back to Feldyn. “That make both of your views so unique?”
Well, that was abrupt, and unexpectedly intuitive. Feldyn was caught completely off guard. Unfortunately for him, everyone seemed to join Caleb in their gazes of wanting specifics. Fuck. He guessed if he believed Caleb was the Dragonheart, he would be bending knee regardless, sooner or later.
May as well lie as much as possible now!
“The Terrors seem to be wanting to summon a great deal of demons to Earth.” Reba nor John even looked startled at his truthful avoidance of a pretty key detail. “They need many human hearts to achieve this ritual summoning. And according to the missing persons statistics Stryker brought back for us, they are indeed harvesting them in great quantity. Yet, even at this pace, it is going to take quite some time to get everything, everyone, they need.”
“We are just letting people die?” Ally was the one to voice the question, though they had all been thinking it. It was quite apparent on Feldyn’s face that he meant his words as he spoke, “Ally, it is a miracle in and of itself that we even know it is happening. All of us combined would have trouble with even one of the Terrors." He hoped that was a lie. "The absolute best we can do now is to prepare and try to find a way to put a kink in their works, if possible.” He left out the fact random people (let alone children) did not simply stop the evils of the world from being evil.
It was Pazely’s turn to inquire, “Won’t they just try again?” John shook his head as he answered, “We doubt it child, no. for one, it is too great an undertaking. Second, we do not know why the angels have not intervened as it is. They would not risk attempting this twice.” Pazely wasn’t satisfied, “The angels? Like, real angels? We can’t just wait for them to handle it?” Her eyes were huge and inquisitive.
Feldyn sighed loudly. “This ritual is powerful and magical. They shouldn’t even be able to cast it without manastorms destroying them. Yes, angels should respond to prevent such things on Earth, and yet they have not. If these Terrors are foolish enough -and I do not believe they would be- to try this as is, then angels will likely appear at the last minute to prevent it.”
“Thank you, Feldyn,” Gigi smiled at him, “for trying to help everyone!” Her words felt like a dagger in the heart. He would let them all die, if it meant getting Caleb to Aethra alive. And this child was thanking him…
Looking deep into his eyes, Gigi suddenly frowned. “Oh…” was all she said, as she slumped back in her large armchair. Feldyn felt a pang of dread. Had she… understood his true intent somehow?
“There is, of course, more,” Feldyn concluded. “But for now, we should enjoy those still at our sides.” Ally lost her smile, but no one objected or complained.
So enjoy the company they did! The remainder of the day went quickly, with everyone chitchatting, laughter, and eating a dinner almost as large as the lunch. The topic of the Terrors was not brought up again.
* * *
Night was deep as Feldyn and Reba walked through the dark woods, near the church. The dim, battery operated lantern that Reba carried, produced more light than either of them needed. Feldyn's elven eyes took in enough light for his surroundings to be quite clear without the lantern; Reba's homunculus eyes were healthy and strong, and she was quite accustomed to surviving in the dark.
The tiny shack they walked to was where the bard had set things up in order to have a private place to do his research. And it was exactly that research that was the breaking point for Reba. “Do you really believe this shit?” Reba stopped and asked in a pissy voice. She knew she sounded like an immature little girl, and didn’t care. This was not a game, yet this stupid Aetherian was acting like the entire situation was a vacation gone awry.
Feldyn knew what she referred to. “Yes Reba, I do. And could we do without the rudeness?” His offhand rebuke made her want to hit him with the lantern. He was right though, so she spared him her wrath. “So let me see if I understand then. Is that okay?”
'No, it is not okay,' Feldyn thought, as he turned around to face the spontaneously confrontational female. “I am guessing I don’t truly have a choice,” was all he said, walking a few steps to lean against a large rock.
“You and dad believe those prophecies base their wordings off of things in fiction?” He nodded to her question. “More specifically," she continued, "Earth nerd stuff?” He frowned at the way she stressed Earth, but again nodded. "Anime and role-playing games? Those kind of things?” Another nod. “So, what? The links and shards are gonna run around, fight bad guys, gain experience, and level up, before tackling the big bad final boss battle?” With a loud, almost explosive sigh, and tossing his hands out to the side, “Yes. More or less, but not quite as ridiculous as you make it sound,” Feldyn answered, and threw in a shrug for good measure.
“What I believe, dear Reba," he explained, trying not to sound condescending in his annoyance, "is that the prophet of the Codex, in all his chaotic visions, saw things in your lore and media on Earth, and sort of honed in on it. Do I believe any of this involves anything specific from your stories and games? No. But I do believe there are… concepts, that apply. And so far this anime and the role-playing genre, seem to contain many of the unique concepts referred to in the Codex. Fiction must already exist, or how can it be? God created all things, are we arrogant enough to think we can imagine what never was, nor will ever be, on our own?
“The fantasy genre on this world, His world, is astounding! What you humans have created to live out in your imaginations, through so many different means and sensory inputs, is remarkable beyond words! My own race is but fictitious musings to you all. In many ways, my planet is your fantasy genre. That alone says volumes.
“When I discovered these Earth nerd things, as you call them, I could hardly believe it! The words and terms, the way it works, and is broken down? It all made so much sense, like a decoder for the Codex! And the more I delve into your fictional worlds, the more I find that they answer so very many questions!”
His voice had been animated, his words fast and impassioned, yet his eyes had looked irritated. Insulted. Out of patience. He wasn’t going to change his mind, she knew. John had come to almost the same conclusion, reading and translating the few Codex entries that they had, then discovering American comic books. It only spiraled to more stupidity from there. Reba loved anime, and manga, and the occasional (J)RPG too. However, Reba knew they were fiction, not some secret decoder for the end times prophecies on some other freaking planet!
She motioned for Feldyn to move along. He hopped back to the trail, and gave her a bow that seemed a bit snotty. Falling into pace behind him, Reba guessed she had been a bit pissy herself. Everything, the last couple of days had happened so fast, and was still processing in her mind. The good, the bad, and the stupid.
Yet… the true horrors the Terrors were actually planning, if dad was correct, was enough to melt her brain if she thought too long on it. Even worse, her dad was convinced Ted was the zombie king; the alchemist was the only individual either of them knew of that could animate dead flesh. Provided the Terrors were real.
Was her creator of nightmare truly lurking somewhere near? The thought made her want to vomit.
Reba could wrap her mind around the truths and facts of what might be going on. That stupid video game, or whatever, idea crap Feldyn and her dad had? No matter how many times they explained it…
It was still the stupidest shit she had ever heard.
* * *
The night and morning uneventful, the kids seemed to be in a mild state of denial as Reba looked at them. Reba, Stryker, Caleb, Ally, Bryan, Pazely, and Gigi all stood outside a small concrete building with an iron door. It was nestled in some trees with vines growing over it, not far from the only entrance to their base inside the mountain.
“No Feldyn?” Ally asked. She figured that jerk would chicken out. “He’s probably still sleeping,” Reba really didn’t know what else to say. Stryker unlocked the large padlock on the door, and swung it open. He tossed his and Pazely’s duffel bags down into the depths beneath the building, and started to descend the ladder, into the darkness below. Only looking mildly worried, Pazely followed after, grateful when he flicked on a flashlight.
“Just how far is it?” Bryan asked, as Caleb stepped past him to climbed down. “I mean, how far to the studio?” Ally had just got done saying her -temporary- goodbyes to Reba, and walked over beside Bryan; peeking down into the darkness, trying to see as Stryker’s light darted all over the place. “A couple miles or so, I think,” Reba answered, still squeezing Gigi in her arms.
“So, on the night when everything happened,” Bryan began thoughtfully, “after we left the studio, with an injured ankle, you made it back here before Masque and Gigi?” Reba set the little girl down, and looked at Bryan, a little puzzled. “Yeah, why? Oh, the ankle injury. I always have some healing supplies stashed at the studio, just in case someone gets too injured,” she lied, out of reflexive habit. Bryan didn't know that, and was mostly satisfied with the answer. A two mile jog isn't far, but to sprint the distance as quickly as she had, that was, well, insane.
Ally dropped her own duffel, and grinned as she heard Pazely cry out at the same time she heard the impact on the girl’s head. She then tossed Gigi’s backpack as well, hitting dumbass Paze in the face -as she looked up to glare- and mounted the ladder. Bryan let Gigi go next, as Ally stayed just a little lower than her, making sure she didn’t slip.
“Guess I’ll see you guys back here soon,” Reba smiled to her student. She had truly never wanted them to know any of this. As Bryan lowered himself over the edge, and onto the ladder, Reba got a bad feeling, “Hey Bryan.” Her voice startled him. She sounded… worried. “Be careful, okay?” Looking into his instructor’s eyes, Bryan knew something was wrong. Giving her the most confident smile he could, he descended the ladder, hearing Reba close the door above them.
It didn’t take long for Ally to take the only flashlight from Stryker’s erratic control. The group progressed without much conversation, as they made their way through the odd tunnel. It very much wanted to be a sewer, with its slanted, curved ceiling made of brick. Yet the ground was one level, appearing concrete, with nowhere for water to conveniently run, nor grates or drains of any variety. Moss and fungi grew everywhere, and the atmosphere was wet and heavy. Despite all that, there were old-looking light fixtures on the ceiling, and lots of even older wiring, with daisy chained extension cords. Not a light bulb, switch, or pull chain in sight.
Yes. The purpose of this tunnel was confusing. Unless it was just there to be a tunnel. Then that made perfect (um, no?) sense.
When they reached an end that was nearly identical to where they began, Ally had a brief moment of panic that they had somehow turned around. Pazely was just glad to get out. It felt like they had been in there forever, and no one talking was creeping her the hell out!
“Careful, don’t let nobody see you!” Stryker cautioned the little Japanese girl that had begun her ascent without warning. The boys strapped the bags over their shoulders as Ally followed after Twintails. Both girls were happy they had picked their jeans over the skirts, in the small options for outfits this morning.
“Go ahead, Gigi,” Caleb told her, after Bryan and Stryker started up the ladder. She shook her head and said, “You first.”
“No-”
“You.”
“Gigi-”
“Uh uh!”
“Will you liste-”
“Noooo!”
Frustrated, Caleb had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. Gigi began to sing the word ‘no’ and dance around him. “Gigi, it’s so you don’t fall-” he cut himself short as Geeg climbed the bags he carried, perching herself on his shoulders. Stumbling a little, Caleb growled, then he realized she was actually balancing herself perfectly, imparting almost zero extra weight. “Huh,” was all he said. “See?” the kid answered answered, in voice dripping with adorable. She could go from obnoxious to cute so fast, it was a lot like Pazely.
The look Ally was giving him as he climbed out of the tunnel with Gigi on his shoulders looked cute too. If you found that look a female gave you in the moment before they killed you cute. And he did. Apparently Gigi did too, as she squealed a fake scream at the sight of Ally, before giggling wildly.
“Shut up!” Stryker snapped, ending the situation before it got out of hand. Gigi still made some giggling sounds as she bounced up and down on Caleb’s shoulders, almost knocking them backwards into the hole. “We are close as fuck to the studio; this place is secret, remember?” Stryker was not amused where he stood in the open door of a building identical to the one they had entered. Bryan and Pazely were already outside.
“He’s right, hurry up,” Bryan urged, leaning in the door. Removing Gigi from Caleb, Ally prodded her to go outside, with Caleb quickly behind them, Stryker locking the door. This building could be seen from the parking lot of the dance studio, and they had all been seeing it for years. It had a bunch of generic no trespassing signs; the official-looking ones that city or government used. Caleb had always assumed it was a utility building for electric or sewer or something.
Stryker walked off quickly, in the direction of the parking lot. The kids followed, and saw his patrol car parked over by where he had slid the limo before. Caleb wondered why Stryker didn’t worry anyone would question where he had been, with his cruiser just sitting there all night. The ground was flat and smooth again; nearby bulldozer probably borrowed from a friend of Miss Terra. Caleb had to smile, as he saw not only was the studio already open, but there were more than a few cars parked in the parked outside.
Guess a dancer will always dance.
A bird-like yell came from the window of the studio’s office. The frizzy-haired lady that pointed an authoritative finger at them looked a bit like a bird as well. “Oh shit,” Pazely mumbled as Miss Terra left the window, heading out to meet them in the parking lot.
When Miss Terra left the window, Caleb noticed two people standing standing behind her in the room. One was a woman wearing an elaborate over the top blue frilly and lacy dress. What, did she have a parasol too? Next to the pretty brunette woman stood a small Asian girl, with braided hair. He didn’t get a good look, but for the briefest of moments, they made eye contact, and he was overcome with the sensation that he knew her. And that she was sad, and... painfully lonely.
The brunette in the pretty (if not out of era) dress quickly stepped in front of the window to draw the shades. But not before another little Asian girl peeked out, wide-eyes curious and intense, before the shades closed.
Ally stood her ground as Miss Terra was now storming across the parking lot towards them; Gigi scurried into the back of the patrol cruiser; Stryker reflexively locking the driver’s side door, where he was sitting. The studio owner wouldn’t hurt a stray cat, but she sure scared them senseless anyway. Miss Terra whapped Pazely upside the head when she got to them. “Watch your language!” she snapped, though her eyes were glaring at Caleb.
“Why didn’t any of you tell me where you were?” she scolded the boy. “Or if… if you were even okay?” She started crying. Miss Terra was an awkward lady to begin with, she looked like some crazy cat lady gone homeless meth addict. Her long brown hair had an over-permed frizzed look, skin fake tanned and leathery. The huge dangling earrings and gawdy necklaces, helped the eccentric persona
Bryan was suddenly at Miss Terra’s side, to put an arm around her shoulders. He had been hiding in the background in case fleeing was needed. Seeing as how there was nowhere to run, comforting his teacher may save him a scolding. “We didn’t have a chance,” Ally answered for Caleb, as softly as she could. “Stryker said he let you know we were okay as soon as he could,” she lied loudly.
The officer clenched more than a little from the driver’s seat, able to hear Ally’s words even with the window up, and over cranked the key, trying to start the car. “He most certainly did not!” Miss Terra snapped again, tears gone, and marched over to Stryker’s window. He rolled it down before she got there, so she tapped on his forehead instead, “What are you teaching these children, telling lies like that!”
'Ally is the one lying,' Stryker thought, but kept it to himself. “I’m sorry ma’am-”
“Terra, Stryker. Terra.”
“-Terra. I had to check in with the chief, to be put lead on... Well, you know. And after handling... things, I sorta forgot.” Miss Terra lost all her bluster at his words. Then she saw Gigi in the back, and her expression fell terribly, before turning back to Ally.
Both teacher and student began to softly cry, and Terra held the teenage girl in a hug larger and stronger than her twiggy arms should have been able to do. Ally had known this woman… jeez, seemed like forever. And she had always, always, been like a mom to them. She had even been known to ground them more than once. You didn’t go against Miss Terra. Why? Because she wasn’t the type you disrespected. She loved them, crazy lady or not. Would she let someone disrespect her? Of course. What good forgiving soul wouldn’t? But these kids would never disrespect her! Good adults were beyond few in their lives.
“If you girls need anything, don’t hesitate to call me, okay?” Miss Terra kissed Ally’s head before pushing her back to an arm’s length, to look in her eyes with a kind smile. “They are shipping us to Minnesota,” Ally sniffled. Holding the teen by her shoulders, Miss Terra rolled her eyes, and leaned in to whisper, “See ya when you get back.” She gave Ally a little wink, and the teenager laughed one more sob, and hugged this lady she wished was her mother, as tightly as she could.
Bryan and Pazely said their goodbyes to the two girls, both assuming to be seeing Ally sooner opposed to later. Miss Terra made Gigi get out and give her a hug, knowing she likely wouldn’t see the child for a long time.
Caleb, however, was still thinking about that girl he had seen in the window. The one that made him feel painfully nostalgic. So entranced was he, the boy failed to tell either of his friends goodbye. Ally assumed it would hit him later and he would get all emo about it. But she wasn’t expecting it to take her that long to return. Gigi wasn't upset either. She knew Caleb was a self centered, girl crazy, asshole, and not worth the time to be upset over. She still liked him though. He was a nice asshole. Friendship was annoying at times. That, and she completely and totally believed her cousin would include her in the escape back to Castle Rock.
“Now get going before Francis here gets his panties in more of a twist,” Miss Terra said to the girls, before walking away from the cop car. Stryker frowned, feeling defensive at her comment. “I’m on a timetable, ma’a- MISS TERRA!” he shouted that last in a panic, as she whirled to face him at the improper title. Everyone (not spaced out on little Asian girls...) got a good laugh out of it, and Stryker wisely took that moment to leave with Ally and Gigi; smiles still on everyone’s faces.
“So you kids want a ride into town?” Miss Terra offered, soon as Stryker was out of sight. “Uh,” Bryan started hesitantly, “Stryker is coming back here to get us.” She was already waving a dismissive hand at Bryan before he finished. “Officer Stricksent is slower than the seven-year itch. I’ll drop you guys off so you can do something other than wait. He has a car, he can find ya.”
As Miss Terra walked back to the studio to get her car keys, Caleb ran after her, “Who was that in your office? That- those girls?”
“Hmm?” Terra asked without slowing. “Oh, Miss Lacuice,” she explained, opening the door, with Caleb following her into the studio, his two friends staying outside. “She and her girls just relocated here, and are looking for a studio.” Caleb assumed the girls were adopted, the woman in blue not exactly Asian. “Can I meet them?” he asked Terra, nearing her office. “Fine with me. You are one of our star dancers.”
As he followed her into her small office, it was empty. “Oh, guess they left…” Terra said, but Caleb didn’t accept it as easily, and looked back down the hallway. Where had they gone? Picking up her large bundle of keys she called her personal key ring, Miss Terra didn't look bothered. “They’ll be back. Not like they have any other options.”
Caleb wasn’t so sure. Yet, he was sure of one thing, and he couldn’t explain why, and that was that he must find that girl. He had to help her! He had to find out why she was so sad!
It never occurred to him that some people don’t want to be saved. And that some were unsaveable.
* * *
Ally’s place was outside of city limits on the other side of the Cowlitz River, into farmland and woods. Every time they pulled into the private road that would merge into her driveway, looking out at the cow field it paralleled, she could feel her heart sinking. That feeling of her freedom ending; the reality of the prison known as being a minor, forced by law to submit to wicked adults known as parents.
This time was different.
Ally truly had no idea of Feldyn was telling the truth, and it didn't really matter. This last summer, Feldyn's stories, Jessie's murder, everything; she had made her choice. She was done, was going to leave this hell. No matter the consequences, Ally was leaving. Not just running away, she was leaving, and would never come back here, to this wicked house. She would choose juvie, or even death, before she let herself be brought back here.
And that gave her a hope she hadn't known since the first time she prayed to Jesus. Whom she had lately been questioning more and more, and hated herself for it. She believed, she tried not to sin, that was all it took to be saved, right? To... deny... herself... To not think... certain ways. Not to... feel... Even if you couldn't help it....
When they got close to her parent's house, Ally immediately noticed her family's creepy priest’s creepier personal hearse, parked outside, next to aunt and uncle Jacobson's SUV. ‘Fuck’ was about all that came to mind. Stryker put the cruiser in park near the front door.
“Do you want me to stay?” Stryker asked, knowing full well Ally’s worries. “I just want to get this over with,” she smiled, strong yet weak. “He can be made to disappear,” Stryker told her, and she knew good and well what he meant. “Thanks, but I can handle him.” It did mean a lot to the girl. “Besides, he’s old. No reason to start committing unclassified felonies. He’ll die on his own soon enough.” Stryker knew Ally was right, but this priest deserved more than a natural death. Stryker knew he had done more to Ally than she would admit. Father Shiplin was around so many children in this county, yet no one would speak against him. Just one piece of evidence. One bit of proof. One witness testimony. That was all he would need to get rid of him for good, legally!
Likely no one would believe, even with evidence, that this Father, an icon of the Catholic Church, beacon of goodness, would ever do a thing wrong. Sometimes, Stryker just believed people were ignorant as fuck, end of story. For no other explanation even came near to making sense. He never understood why the creepiest men in existence were always, always, trusted by mothers! The more creepy and rapey the vibe, the more mothers seemed to be willing to hand their children over. It made no fucking sense! Always, with the excuse that they ‘seemed like such a nice man’. Um, no lady, they seemed like a creepy-ass child molester.
Standing on shaky legs, Ally closed her passenger’s side door, and opened the back for Gigi, who just darted out and into the house without a word. 'Great, thanks a lot Gigi,' Ally groaned in her head. Now she was forced to deal with everyone alone. She wouldn’t have made Geeg confront the adults, but having her near would have been nice… Willing herself not to look back, Ally walked up to and through her front door. Stryker didn’t drive away until after it had been closed for many seconds.
Her parents kept their large house open and vastly empty. The fake hardwood floors and near featureless walls, never echoed the way Ally expected. Instead, they almost absorbed sound, making it possible for her to sneak unnoticed up the stairs, avoiding the random laundry scattered about, and down the hall to her room. The fact she basically never wore shoes helped too. Though the sound-eating quality of the house also unfortunately allowed for others to be equally as silent. Ally never even heard the voice of Father Shiplin speaking, nor Sally crying, until she stepped in her room and right into their scene.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“And where have you been?!” Ally’s mom shouted at her, as if Stryker had never come by with his fake explanation. Sally sobbed, hugging Gigi, sitting on the edge of her room’s small bed. The creepy priest had been seated in a chair, praying. This disgusting pig and his fake prayers! Ally hoped she was around to watch him die. The level of pure blasphemy from his fake piousness, she was sure it would be a fitting death. Shiplin ended his prayer to look back at the teen. His bald head always seemed greasy to her, even though his skeletal frame housed terribly dry and cracked skin.
“Ah, child, how are you?” His voice was pleasant. His eyes were on her crotch. Ally momentarily smelled that foul brandy and dog turd reek of his breath, deep in her memories. “How is she?” Ally’s mom laughed spitefully. “What about the rest of us? Huh? Why is it always about her?” The look this beautiful young mother gave her daughter was one of hatred. “This ungrateful failure?”
Ally ignored her mother with a reflexive eye roll, and walked over to her bed, putting her and Gigi’s bags down. “I’m just lucky, I guess,” she sighed and sat on the bed next to her cousins.
Father Shiplin slapped Ally hard across the mouth when she turned her head towards him.
“Respect your mother, dear girl.” His voice was stern, as Ally held a hand to her cheek, stunned. And afraid. He was in one of his violent moods. And her mother stood there, with a satisfied grin on her evil face.
'Jesus, please help me to not kill them. Please? To not kill myself. To make it away from them. Please?'
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Ally apologized, hanging her head. She clenched her toes instead of her fists, concealing her fury. And her pain. “You will properly apologize and do penance for your sin later.” The sound in the old man’s voice made Ally think she may actually need to end up killing him. “I fear there won’t be time today, Father,” Mrs. Thompson said, almost triumphantly. “They need to be ready to leave in twenty minutes.” Now she smiled smugly. “Your bags are already packed. Be out back in ten minutes, or I’ll inform your father of your disobedience.”
Ally did the only thing she could think of to end this situation; hanging her head, slap still burning on her cheek, she began to cry. To sob. To weep as hard and honestly as she could. She got so into her own tears, she hadn’t noticed her mom and Shiplin left the room. It wasn’t until she felt two sets of small arms hugging her that she came to her senses.
“It’s okay, I was just trying to get them to leave!” Ally sniffled, and fought to stop her tears the best she could. “I’m not letting you little crapheads console me, jeez!” her faked irritation got a sheepish smile from Sally, who leaned back on the bed. Gigi was expressionless as she did the same.
Sally was so pretty. She shared the fair skin gene of her mom and aunts, that all the girls had luckily inherited. Her eyes were green, blonde hair was bright, and the texture of Ally's, cut in a bob that accentuated her pretty face. A face identical to Jessie's.
A pain stabbed the teen girl in her nostalgic heart, and she almost cried out. This was all too much, How could this be real? Poor Sally had been all alone, going through all of the agony of losing her sister, all alone!
“How did she die?” Sally asked, as tears ran again from her older cousins eyes; eyes now filled with a pained sympathy. “They won’t tell me…” the younger girl lowered her own green eyes to the floor, face contorting in an expression silent of horror.
Not so unlike the expression frozen on the face of Jessie, when Ally had found her.
What should Ally do? Respect the adults and lie? Or respect her nine-year-old cousin, and tell the truth?
“She was taken by Lyle’s group, and they, uh…" Ally had to tightly close her eyes and take a deep breath, before she could continue. "... raped her, and strangled her.” Ally couldn’t believe she managed to say that. It took everything to not think about it. The look on the surviving twin’s face was unflinching. “It was too late when I got there,” Ally admitted. Sally looked up into her older cousin’s eyes, “I want them to die. I want them dead, Allyssia.”
Ally wasn’t sure how to respond. Gigi interrupted her chance to think it over, “They are dead!” Geeg announced with a smile. “They made her die, but now they died!” Her innocent smile changed slightly. It almost looked like a satisfied grin. “Now they went to Hell.” The out-of-character words from the little girl, only surprised the teen. Sally knew better. “They're dead? Did you… Did they...?” Sally asked, ignoring the younger, an eager, almost pleasure, in her eyes.
With a satisfied, smile of her own, Ally stood, “Yes, they are all dead. And most died screaming.”
* * *
“I’m hungry,” Caleb grumbled. “You’re always hungry,” Pazely lectured, “no one wants to hear you whine!” Caleb made a pouting face. “I’m not whining,” he whined. “I’m just hungry. Lets go to C&D and get burritos.” He loved cheap mini-mart hot-case food. Get a few free packets of taco sauce, and it went amazing on those overcooked burritos he loved so much.
Rolling his eyes, Bryan knew arguing was pointless. When Caleb wanted food, it was like the only thing on his mind until he acquired it. Bryan’s stomach growled loudly at the thought. It was getting late, after all.
Stryker had gone back to the studio looking for them, and they, of course, had not been there. It took him a good bit to find the trio wandering a random side street. At that point, he had several calls holding, being one of only two officers on duty. Asked the kids if they would please wait to go home until he could take them, to make sure his story held about bringing them back. They had agreed, and not a one of them bothered to point out that he was going on calls, while they walked around town. It wasn’t really a secret any of them were back.
Oh well, Stryker was Stryker. And we all had our blond moments.
“See, you’re hungry too,” Caleb pointed at Bryan, grinning like an idiot. Bryan’s stomach had been quite loud… “And with what money are we going to buy food?” Bryan took his turn lecturing his taller friend. They stood along the side of Main Street, a one-way road, and not even the main street people used. It had a decent line of random businesses, including the post office, and the hardware store, so the name worked as good as any. “We spent the twenty miss Terra gave us.” Three drinks for each of them earlier, plus chips, and candy for Pazely. Twenty bucks really didn't go that far.
Pazely hopped around for no apparent reason and Caleb kept grinning like a dipshit as they walked. Bryan's stomach growled again, his irritation growing. “Okay, fine!” Bryan consented and Pazely jumped to give Caleb a high five.
Bryan was the only one of them to ever have money. He had a checking account, and filtered almost every penny into it that he could. His parents agreed to things easily, so getting their names on it was a cinch, the boy handling all the effort of the account himself. His parents were never motivated to do anything they had to be directly involved in. They also gave him an allowance. Also known as: he asked for money each month, and they said yes. Stryker had brought Bryan’s wallet along with his change of clothes earlier, unfortunately.
“Why do you always make us ask?” Pazely complained, as they turned down a side street to head to the mini-mart gas station. “Why do you always gotta ask?” he answered, and she kicked him in the ankle, which he ignored. He couldn't tell Pazely no if he wanted to...
After buying food, they stood beside the small gas station eating. Bryan sighed again at the total on the receipt. Not that he would complain too much, for he too liked the food here, especially the chicken. Bryan had no idea how any of them were going to keep from getting fat when they were older. Caleb with his burritos slathered in taco sauce, and Pazely with her pizza sticks she scooped (not dipped, scooped) into ranch.
They all, of course, also shared with each other. None were picky eaters, they just had their preferences. Like how Bryan preferred ranch on burritos over pizza, Pazely preferred ranch on just about everything. Caleb? He just liked to eat.
A lone motorcycle pulled up and parked, near where the three stood eating. The man riding it was wearing a leather jacket with a large machete emblazoned on the back. The Cutters. They were a small, local biker gang, and were total trash. Assholes and criminals all, they never passed up a chance to be dicks whenever and wherever they could.
And Pazely never passed up the chance to annoy them whenever and however possible. This time, it manifested in pegging the dude in the chest with a near empty dip container of ranch while he was ignoring them. He wasn’t ignoring them now! “Do you want me to fucking kill you?!” the big hairy dude growled, turning on Pazely. She responded by hitting him in the chest with a full container. It splattered quite magnificently. Bryan had to admit to himself, he was relieved Stryker pulled into the lot, driving past the gas pumps, coming to a stop by the cheap motorcycle the douchebag was riding.
Flashing the lights for a second, biker boy froze in place when the red and blues washed over him from behind. “Got a problem here?” Stryker asked, rolling down his window. When the big bastard turned around and had ranch all over his chest, Stryker laughed out loud. He didn’t feel bad, nor was he concerned a problem would start. In fact, he hoped this piece of shit would come at him. Why? Because after what happened to that sweet little girl Jessica, any known scumbags that even hinted at being a threat, was getting shot in the head.
“No problem. Was just leaving,” was the reply to the officer. And that was exactly what he did! Without hesitation or another word, the hairy dude got on his bike and left. “Really?” Stryker asked Pazely disapprovingly. “What? You laughed, didn’t you?” she grinned, as she headed over to get in the cop car. Bryan picked up the garbage she had left on the ground from her ranch assault, and Caleb frowned when Paze got in the front instead of letting him. The out-stuck tongue let him know she wouldn’t be moving.
After throwing the garbage away in the trash can near the front door, Bryan got in the back with Caleb, and Stryker got them driving back up towards the dance studio. Towards Pazely’s. As they neared her house, it started to register more with them that things were changing. That things had irreversibly changed. Walking around town doing their normal stuff, let them not think about it. Now, they were all going back to their private prisons, where there would be no way to avoid being confronted by the horrors of what had happened.
No sooner than when they pulled in front of Pazely’s near mansion of a house, Stryker got a call from dispatch. The kids got out and closed the doors quietly, but listened in as Stryker grabbed the mic from the dash, keyed it, and responded. “One charlie seventeen, go ahead dispatch.” The dumbass call signs irritated Officer Stricksent to no end. The council decided A -Alpha- to go with medical, since it was a priority, and life came first. B -Bravo- went to near everything else that was secondary or ‘backup’. The cops got the third, and last assignment (C- charlie) because they just were. Stryker was also one four officers, not the seventeenth, or even seventh.
“We have a disturbance report on the south side of town, near the dike access road. It appears to be storm unrelated this time. We have gotten several calls involving this same thing, actually.” Did Martha have to talk so awkwardly on the radio? He waited several seconds, and when she didn’t say anything else he keyed his mic, “One charlie seventeen, dispatch… What is the call, exactly?”
“Oh, guess I forgot to say. Reports are of a woman in a big blue dress banging on doors, begging people to save her. Callers stated said she didn’t appear hurt, and ran off not long after they answered their doors.”
Stryker sighed. “Dispatch, did she say what she needed saving from, and what was her last known location?” He resisted the urge to punch something, waiting the infinite seconds as the well-meaning, middle-aged lady tried to find the information that she should already know. “One charlie seventeen, she said a giant dog was trying to kill her, and was last seen running up the dike access.”
The already chilly evening, rapidly approaching night, suddenly felt much colder. The nightmarish memory… The reality of it all came back. Could it be a coincidence? Stryker barely registered telling dispatch he was responding. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion.
“I shall head to that location,” Masque stated flatly. Pazely screamed bloody murder, and Stryker flapped around like a bird in a cage. Bryan and Caleb would have screamed like girls, had they not had the wind taken completely from them. “What the fuck, man?!” Stryker gasped, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Announce your fucking self!” Masque actually blinked as he looked at Stryker, unflinching, standing near the drivers side window, next to the teenagers. “I have been standing here for quite some time. Is it not all of you that need to improve awareness of your surroundings?”
“Pazely Rin!” came the angry shout from the Japanese woman on the front porch of the three story house. The bloodcurdling scream of terror Pazely had just sent into the night was probably heard throughout the entire neighborhood. Her mother did not like scenes.
Masque did not like to be seen.
“I go,” he informed the group, in case his sudden departure would startle them as well. With that, Masque turned and bound straight towards the southern part of town. He ignored the wind, slicing through and around it. Pushing off from rooftops and power poles, his toes barely touching them. In seconds, he was at the presumed location.
And Masque smelled nothing. The only thing capable of hiding their own scent, were very powerful beings. Greater demons would fit the role. One like the vampire queen X’al’antra, for instance. If she was here, and did not want Masque to sense her, then he would not have been able to. So it made the argument if she was a Terror, then those other Terrors should be of equal power, correct? The lycanthropeire was far from being one of these 'Three Terrors'.
Not that Masque believed X’al’antra was one of them, if they existed at all.
Without even knowing it, Masque agreed with Feldyn more than John. He believed something was amiss, something terrible and powerful was lurking in this town. But to think one such as the vampire queen herself, here? There was naught here that X’al’antra would trouble herself with! And if, even for a moment, Masque had thought she was near, he would have fled, fast and far. Odds were high that whatever these Terrors were, they were not the authentic queens and king, but pretenders. The witches have a queen, but zombies did not exist (aside from the alchemical) on a planet where magic was banned. Where Masque did agree, if John was right at all, was the odds of the alchemist, Ted, being the zombie king. But the queens X’al’antra and Shuzariel? Preposterous!
Masque heard a woman scream from ahead of him, over one of the mountains of sand and silt (some could average over a mile long, and multiple stories high), towards the river. He not only could still could no demon, he also did not detect the scent of any living creature. Should he wait for the police officer? No, that human would be of no help. Curiosity overruling caution, Masque quickly rushed towards the screams; over the mountainous dune, through scrub brush, and sparse trees, to the low ground on the other side, nearest to the river.
Now he knew what was going on. He should have done more than wait for the officer. He should have taken him and fled. Taken all of them and fled.
Speaking of the power of a greater demon was one thing. Knowing the power of one was something else entirely. Looking at the demon before him, one that was likely not even a Terror; the power she radiated; it may even exceeded X’al’antra herself! Masque knew in his un-beating heart he was doomed. They were all most certainly doomed; unless he could find a way to escape.
The imp was small. Her posture relaxed, and confident. The tiny two-piece outfit she wore, revealed a flat, smooth, childlike belly. Upon it, a layer of muscle that didn’t exist in this world, teased the subconscious; playing with your eyes to tell you it was there, yet the more you looked, the less you could see it. And it wasn't only on her abdomen, but arms and legs as well.
Her hair was a rich black, pulled into a tight, elaborate, braid. The thin veins that ran along the hairline on her forehead, from temple to temple, squirmed and moved visibly, like so many little worms. In her crooked open-mouthed smile, he saw jagged teeth, resembling those of a shark, designed to be more cruel than to kill.
Imps looked like prepubescent Asian girls, roughly eight to ten years of age. Though their height and build -always slender and athletic- varied as much as any human child could in that range. And in the case of imps, they would usually be indistinguishable from humans while on Earth.
No demon fully appeared on Earth as they did within Hell itself. Every true demon outside of Hell, had an obligatory seal placed upon them, keeping their power in check, and muting their physical demonic traits. The more human a humanoid demon looked when in the mortal realm, the weaker they were. Any visible manifestation of your demonic self on Earth was a sign of a power so great, it pushed at the limits of the seal. Though demons could push the appearance limits of the seal, if willing, though doing such came with the risk of garnering attention they did not want.
Imps were not known for their strength, being demons of subterfuge, seduction, and manipulation. Looking at the one before him, her muscles, veins, teeth… Who was she?! Why was she here?!
“The great thrall, Masque,” The imp mocked, holding out her hands in a ‘behold’ sort of fashion. He tensed even more. She knows of me?! “You don’t seem so great to me. I mean, c’mon, you look about ready to piss. If you could.” Deciding he had escape from here immediately, no matter the personal tax on his own energies, or risk of storms, Masque let his netherweave billow out in all directions, he did what he had not done in ages: shadowstepped.
Vanishing in a puff of black smoke, Masque entered the nothingness between dimensions, the empty space between this and that, and reappeared instantaneously near the far end of the large sand dune - and right into a jumping Iiyni’jeari’eea’s fist.
He stumbled to the ground, consciousness swirling. “Calm down, fuckwad. Let’s play a little before you die, ‘aight?” the imp stood with hand on hips inches from where he lay. She moved so fast, she managed to jump in front of him, and punch him in the face, as he exited his shadowstep?! How did she know where he would reappear? Was she fast enough to dart to his location the instant she sensed him begin to exit?! That was impossible!
As he lifted himself to his knees, his eyes crossed the child demons hips, and the small brief type bottoms she wore. They were barely more than enough to cover her vaginal area. Human leathers. Forged in Hell, and very well seasoned, it would appear. No doubt her small strapless bra-like top was of the same material.
Demoness wore the skimpy leathers as a way to arrogantly display their strength. Their lack of a need for armor. Masque also noticed her toenails were wickedly pointed, no doubt with fingernails that matched.
“What do you want?” he hissed. “Finally, he calms the fuck down,” she replied in a tone of irritated relief. The imps voice was odd to him. It was exaggeratedly childish. High pitched, and out of place. Unnatural, like an impediment in vocal development. But not altogether unpleasant. She turned and walked off, hands on hips the entire time. “What I want is to kill some time during this bullshit night of drama. It's still pretty early though, so you can't die for awhile, got it? And no trying to escape! The two of you will stay back here by the river while you fight, no romping through town destroying shit."
The imp turned back around, eyes on something behind him. Masque was quickly to his feet, and turned to see the woman in the blue dress, standing on the other side of a large mud puddle. Her hair was up and elegant. Her dress was unblemished.
“Sic ‘em, bitch!” the imp called. A manastorm flash-cracked as the woman’s dress shredded, flesh bursting out in all directions; meat and innards raining everywhere, as a huge, mostly black canine lycanthropeire exploded from the faux body that contained it.
Masque dodged, rolling far to the side; the beast rushing passed him. Jumping straight up when she nimbly turned and lunged, Masque, netherweave again billowing, used it to propel himself fist first into the lycanthropeire's spine.
Barely knocking the wind from this powered up version of the same lycanthropeire Ally had released, Masque dodged backwards. Once he cleared some distance, Masque could see how much the bitch demon had changed. She was roughly a third smaller than when first released. Her fur looked more wolfish, and was a deep, oily, fetid black, with some brown mixed in, eyes were so deeply red they too almost looked black.
Her blood no longer boiled, instead acting like an acid. An acid that caused enough damage, it could dissolve his shadowcloth, and burn into the tissues beneath. It was quite possible that if he were to be splashed with this lycanthropeire’s blood, he may literally dissolve.
At least the imp was staying off to the side.
The lycanthropeire was back on her feet and charging him. Masque stood his ground, jumping at the last possible second to avoid the jaws- the imp suddenly beside him in the air, spiking him like a volleyball into the sandy ground. Apparently, the imp was not committed to being sidelined...
Rolling as soon as he hit, even tumbling he was still faster than this beast dog. Getting a knee under him, Masque sprung to the side, behind both imp and beast. He forced himself to look panicked, which wasn’t all that difficult given the situation. His netherweave was still strong, though he allowed its billowing mass to shrink, appearing more depleted than it was. Masque said a silent prayer his ploy would work, and shadowstepping he went, into the rich, paper thin cut of shadow, feeling wind, yet no wind, as he slid through its solid abyss, to exit in the place of his choosing in the single bat of an eyelash.
The moment he had stepped within, Masque had dawn his nightblade. Iiyni’jeari’eea hadn’t hesitated, and casually jumped in front of him the moment she sensed him begin to step out – right into his blade, embedding it to the hilt in her chest.
'Well, this is embarrassing', the imp grudgingly admitted to herself as a manastorm flashed overhead. Fighting at such a boringly low level of combat on this world was harder than it seemed!
When the sword pulled from her chest and this costumed idiot attempted a spinning slash to remove her head, she casually stepped beside him, his expression shocked when he sliced open air. Iiyni’jeari’eea chakra-punched the thrall in the ribs, a weeee bit more powerful than intended. The force of the concussive blow launched him across the battlefield and into the sand-dune-mountain-thing.
Oops! She had to be careful not to kill him! The doggy could live, or die, or whatever, but if she killed off the ninja vamp too soon, what would she do the rest of the night? If her sisters followed their aunt's instructions, they would probably be too busy to keep her company. Iiyni'jeari'eea had decided to shirk her own duty. Why not? Why cared if the tall skinny kid died? Fuck X'al'antra! They could still pull off the bullshit without him.
Groaning, the imp ordered the mutt to go find the thrall, before he got away.
Fortunately (or unfortunately) for the imp, Masque no longer had any intention of escaping. He would fight, and he would either win or… or he would be saved. He refused to accept that he would die here. He would not give up! And the only way out that he could think of, no matter how hopeless… no matter how… absurd… were those people.
* * *
“Have fun! Don’t get eaten by anything!” Pazely cautioned, as he turned the car around. Stryker looked out the passenger’s side window, past the three kids to the angry Mrs. Nakajima on the porch. “You too,” he returned the advice. “Dad’s not home, Mom’s all bark,” Pazely assured, then winced at the unintended pun, before mouthing, 'thank you.' Stryker looked at the boys now, “You two sure you don’t want dropped off in town? Lord only knows how long it might be, and it's almost dark.” They just shook their heads no. “Alright, your parents won’t care or know anyway, I ‘spose. And y’know what? I’m getting you kids some damn cellphones! Hell with your parents, I’ll keep them in my name, and you can keep them at the studio or something, this shit’s ridiculous.”
He was tired of needing to hunt for them instead of sending a simple damn text! Occasionally, Caleb had a pay-by-the-minute phone, but his dad always found and tossed it. And Bryan’s parents, usually very agreeable, said no to him having a cell, probably because they didn’t feel like having the responsibility of it in their name. Ally’s mom was convinced the girl only wanted one to take and distribute pornography of herself, and Pazely’s parents, God only knew!
“I want a studded, pink, princess-looking case!” Pazely gasped, only by the sheer grace of God, not squealing. Then she scowled as her mother shouted again. “You can pick your own cases online or something," the cop promised, ignoring the angry lady. "I’ll go all out on phones, so decide what you want, and tell me tomorrow. Choose nice ones, don’t worry about price.” All three grinned and looked about to cheer. Stryker was freaking awesome!
“See ya in the morning, ” with that, Stryker headed out down the road. He didn’t bother rolling up either window, even if it was freezing him to the point of shivering. His adrenaline had come down, and was feeling sleeping. The cold would keep him alert. Not that he was expecting to fight anything. Even if that monster dog was on the dike, the strange ninja guy could kill it easily, since there wasn’t gonna be a little girl to protect. The memory made Stryker angry. The shame of being saved by child, while he watched impotently, was bad. What happened to her, oh, he wished the one to kill that damn dog could be him.
Crossing the train tracks at the base of the hill, shaking now from more than just the cold, he had a horrible feeling, and pressed harder on the gas, speeding through stop signs. The guy in black, Masque, he was in danger. Stryker was sure of it. How, didn't matter, he just knew it in his gut.
It was silent when Stryker reached the dike access.
He stopped the car in the middle of the road, and listened. After a couple of seconds, he heard commotion on the dike. No explosions, or screams, but something was going on, and it sounded dramatic. Popping the trunk, he hurried to get the rifle and the bandolier of grenades taken from Reba's place. Doing a once over on the rifle, making sure it was loaded, tossed them both on the passenger’s seat, and peeled the tires out.
What was he doing? Simple- a little blonde girl and someone in a ninja suit (a vampire or some damn thing) had saved his life, and for reasons unknown to him, Stryker felt that the favor needed to be returned. And fast. Stryker wasn’t one to abandon a comrade, even at his own loss of life. And this… person, was more than currently worthy of being considered a comrade-in-arms. Even if this whole pile of shit still didn’t make any sense!
Masque crashed hard onto the passenger’s side of the hood, left arm breaking through the windshield.
“FUCK!” Stryker shouted, slamming the brakes. Masque weakly looked into the officer's eyes, without moving an inch “…. Help….” he said in a rasp, as his unblinking eyes, no longer glowing their icy blue, glazed over.
The large man in black didn’t move.
Numerous holes dotted his large frame, some looked like tears or rips. Not a spec of his skin could be seen, only the raw, bloodless meat, within the wounds.
“Oh hell no, you are not dead!” Stryker shouted into the blank eyes. “You are not fucking dead!” Then it occurred to him, if this man was a vampire… could he die? How does one even kill a vampire? Had one of the puncture wounds gotten his heart? That killed vampires, right? Or maybe-
His thoughts were interrupted when the giant dog from the other night (different color, but must be the same one, right?) landed silently on the road a ways in front of him. It snarled viciously, and Stryker didn’t hesitate a second: putting the car in park, then grabbing the rifle, he jumped out of the car and knelt (more like stumbled to a knee); shouldering it, and opened fire. His kneel unstable, going with reflex and momentum, Officer Stricksent rolled, continuing to fire.
The demon yowled in pain, as it leapt directly into the assault, the bullets piercing it's body with ease, flesh burning. Doing obvious damage to the monster, Stryker, was on his feet, strafing the enemy that was now on the other side of his car.
Belle'anne, shocked by the assault, had hit the ground, stumbled, and skid on her side, and howled, thrashing to regain her footing under the barrage of bullets.
Then Stryker ran out of ammo.
“Aw, fuck me!” He should have been concentrating his fire on her head! Clearing the distance back to his cruiser quickly, deciding he had no time to reload with the mags on the other side of the vehicle, he instead tossed the assault rifle inside, and grabbed the bandoleer of grenades.
Almost panicking, he took just one grenade out and dropped the rest, needing to throw himself across the road again to avoid getting eaten. Stryker was surprised that the beast, failing another leaping dash, again stumbled a good ways along the road. It was seriously injured! You really could kill one of these things!
When the blood that was every where caught his attention, he remembered what happened to Gigi, and did a brief freakout look-over of himself. The road was fucking melting from it, and as luck would have it, there was none on his person.
The beast finally turned to him, not exactly planning to give up the fight. Stryker ripped the pin out of the grenade with his teeth (and made a note that if he survived, to never do that again. Looked cool in movies, but was uncomfortable as fuck), and threw it as hard as he could at the creature, hoping it would land near. Instead, it hit the monster in the right shoulder- and stuck there.
It exploded with a small pop into many tiny objects, and a half second after, all popped again, into small purple clouds. And oh, did the demon howl! For all over its body, it bubbled and boiled and melted where the cloud touched it. Worse pain than Belle’anne had ever before experienced, she thrashed and cried loudly, trying to extinguish her own agony though the release of sound.
“That’s for Gigi, you fuck!” Stryker yelled at the staggering, melting, and maimed monster. The beast that not so long ago had caused a very similar thing to a little girl he loved very much.
Knowing he had to make sure it actually died, Stryker returned to the cruiser, retrieved the rifle and ammo, and sat in the drivers seat to reload. He would toss another grenade, then unload the rifle into the thing, before calling in every form of backup possible.
Then someone else landed on his hood, with no impact. For a split second, he thought it was Pazely. A thought that fled immediately. The small girl was wearing a bikini even Ally wouldn't risk, had sharp pointed evil monster teeth, squiggly veins on her forehead, and her naked toes, and fingers, were punctured through the hood of the car.
The assault rifle he never paused in loading, he quickly started unloading into the new assailant’s (another vampire?) face. She quickly looked down, so the bullets hit her in the forehead. They were obviously tearing up her skin, but ricocheted off her skull, like it was made of steel. Even though the bullet's weren't piercing, they were doing something, and the monster kid let go of the hood to shield her head with an arm, then let go with the other hand to to do the same. Stryker quit shooting and rifle butted the obviously evil little thing in the face, leaning as far out the shattered windshield as he could, to give a good shove. Falling back onto the seat, he and unloaded the remainder of the clip, finally knocking her backwards off the hood.
Not remembering if the car was even running, he cranked the engine hard and put it in reverse. Slamming on the gas without looking behind him, Stryker grabbed Masque’s left arm so he wouldn’t fall off, and was not expecting it when the child jumped back on the hood. He was even more startled when the little bitch was suddenly leaning through windshield, holding his throat.
Slamming on the breaks, Stryker caused her to lose balance, toppling inside, which made her release his throat. Masque also slid farther into the passenger’s side. Grabbing blindly for something with his right hand, it landed on a grenade, which he took, and started bashing the insanely strong little monster in the side of the head with, trying to knock her out the still open driver’s side door. When she looked into his eyes and grinned, Stryker didn't bother with another hit, shoved her instead, finally knocking her out of the car.
She was on her feet almost as soon as she hit, so Officer Stricksent pegged her in the face with the grenade (after ripping the pin out for the second time today with his teeth), threw the car into gear, and floored it. The child monster just stood there and sighed, letting him speed away.
He yanked the e-brake and turned into a hard skid, intending to do a one-eighty, instead the cop car side-pitched to a halt near where the giant, injured dog should have been. In its place was a severely burned and maimed woman on her knees, naked and screaming. And from the look of her, she wasn’t screaming loud enough…
The cute little Asian monster, could no longer be seen, as a cloud of purple concealed the area she had been standing. Grateful Masque hadn’t fallen out of the car yet, Stryker again peeled-out, as he sped directly at the purple cloud. At the last second, unsure what effect the cloud would have on the vehicle, he angled to go around, and back down the dike access.
* * *
As the cloud dissipated, Iiyni’jeari’eea stood where she had been when the grenade went off. Her leathers weren’t even scratched, and not a hair on her head was damaged. That shit had stung! Those bullets had burned like a mother too! Sex demons were soft and squishy to replicate humans during sex, but their bones were practically impervious to damage, and their organs were shift-able, and coated in a thick membrane almost as strong as their bones. Then there was the healing factor, that repaired wounds at a speed based off the individuals strength.
Nothing had gone her way. In fact, she had almost flat failed her personal role in her own scheme. Yet, the fact Masque escaped and a random cop did so much damage (she was giving him credit for inflicting pain) to her and the worthless mutt… was kinda exciting. A man with the chains of sin, using holy runed weapons, and wasn't Order.
She grinned.
Maybe, just maybe, sitting back and watching what these people did this night would be a teensy bit entertaining after all.
Belle’anne tried to stifle her whimpers and cries, because when Iiyni’jeari’eea began to cackle with laughter… Belle’anne remembered there were much worse things in this world than pain.
* * *
“RIN!” Pazely’s mother practically screamed. "Has your mother always called you Rin when mad?" Caleb asked her. None of them knew each others parents well, and Pazely's the least. Even being allowed inside the front door was super rare. “Since my entire life, whenever I’m in trouble. But lately she’s been acting like a possessed psycho! Standing outside AND SCREAMING!!!” Paze showed her dominance as she out-screeched her mother.
She hated this crap! Her mom became like an entirely different person a few months ago. But of course, it isn’t the adult, it’s the kid that’s changed because it’s just ‘that age’, and the adult has always been the same. She groaned. This was going to be a long night! “Meet you guys at the studio in the morning, k?” Paze smiled to the boys, before running off to her mother.
Caleb reached for her instinctively, words dying in his throat, and she hurried away. Despite all of his stupidity, and apparent calm, he wasn't handling things well. Was still obsessing on the girl he saw at the studio, mind spinning with the dispatch Stryker received, voices in his head causing confusion, and now to top it all off, the last time he had seen Pazely go in that house…
Why did he care about that girl at the studio?! He had just gotten Pazely back, that's where he should be focusing! Well, technically he had had her back and just forgot or something… But still! Why were his priorities so royally fucked up right now? Like, it actually just fucking now dawned on him the last time he saw Ally, may be the last time he saw her! What the fuck, wasn’t she getting shipped off somewhere?! Gigi too!
You already had this revalation, numbnuts.
Wait, had he? No, he was thinking about... Hadn't thought of Ally at all until... now. Right?
“She’s been fine since she got back,” Bryan reassured what he assumed his friend was stressing over. “Those two do that constantly, but she’s been okay. Her dad is hardly ever home anymore. Not that he ever was much to begin with.” Bryan turned to start walking back to town, and Caleb followed, though he kept looking back at the lights of Pazely's house.
“You believe that I forgot?" Caleb asked, and Bryan shrugged. "Why not. You've never been much of a liar. And, I don't know... you seem more like yourself." They walked a moment before Caleb asked another question, "Did we ever find out what happened?” Bryan shrugged again, and they walked in silence, all the way to the road that led back down to the train tracks, and began downhill. “She won’t talk about it,” Bryan spoke, breaking the silence. He sounded a bit defeated. Taking a deep breath, “Honestly man, what had been worrisome, was you.”
“Me?”
Screeching brakes caught their attention, and they both froze, directing their gazes downhill into town. It was pretty much a straight shot to the train tracks from where they were, and headlights were racing towards them, but it was too dark and far to make out more than that, despite their being streetlights on the other side of the tracks. As the vehicle got closer, they could see the light bar on the roof. Stryker! Why did he have no lights or sirens? Especially since he was speeding like crazy! Where the hell was he going?!
Caleb and Bryan stepped to the side, watching in silence as the cruiser jumped the tracks, speeding up the hill and rocketing past. Stryker didn’t seem to notice them, Masque hanging halfway through the completely gone windshield, vehicle steaming and smoking.
The two boys stood in shocked silence, as the taillights quickly disappeared around the bend. “You think he was going to the studio, maybe? Going to go through the tunnel and get Reba?” Caleb asked, sounding rightly confused. Bryan didn’t reply. “Maybe we should head that way too?” was Caleb’s third question, which Bryan also did not answer.
Abruptly, there came a loud whooshing sound, and both teens ducked, the noise similar to having a jet fly over your head.
The stars in the sky vanished, and everything tinted with a ruby glare, presumably from the bright, blood-red moon.
The boys looked around in stunned silence for a few moments, and when Caleb finally tried to voice words, they caught in his throat; a maddening din of noises had erupted throughout the night air.