In the large meeting area, hundreds of Voodoopunks were gathered, waiting for Jackie to come back with the MCG and Constance. Charlotte stood next to Byron. It seemed Fay was preparing some ritual items.
Jackie walked into the meeting area with a handcuffed Thomas, Constance was right behind her.
Byron frowned an eyebrow, “What is going on?”
“This policeman,” gasps came from the Voodoopunks, “Tried to steal the MCG.”
Charlotte looked at Constance, “Did he try to shoot you?”
She gently nodded, “Please, don’t harm him too much.”
Jackie put him on his knees in the middle of the room, she stepped back to Constance, “What should we do with him?”
Byron walked closer to him, he grabbed his neck and lifted him into the sky.
Constance gasped, “Jackie, stop him,” she wanted to run towards Byron.
Jackie held her back, “Let him do his thing, he is a wise and smart leader.”
Byron looked at Thomas struggling, “I almost got killed, saving your life. But you were never in danger, you tipped the soldiers. That is why they infiltrated the soirée, you got Mark killed, numerous Voodoopunks and rebels.”
He gasped for air, Byron let him fall to the ground, “Why did you do it, policeman?”
“My name is, Thomas, not policeman.”
“Quite frankly, I don’t give a fuck, you are disarmed, we have all four leaders here, and there are hundreds of us. You are in the place where we are the strongest. Why did you do it, policeman?”
“I thought I was on the right side, I did not know they shot down your little girl.” Charlotte gasped and held in a sniffle. Byron, on the other hand, grunted with fury, and punched him hard in his face.
Constance yelped, “Byron, don’t kill him,” Jackie kept holding her back.
Byron looked down at him, “If you ever mention her again, or what happened to her, I will throw my duty away and crush you into the pulp that you are. Betrayal is the lowest you can go. I have, a plan.” Things started to move very fast after that.
In the heart of the Voodoopunk meeting area, an atmosphere heavy with mystical energy permeates the air. The setting is adorned with an array of symbolic items, creating an intricate tableau for an intense possession ritual. The four Voodoopunk leaders, including Jackie, Charlotte, Byron, and Fay, stand at strategic points around the focal point of the ritual. Hundreds of Voodoopunks, dressed in ceremonial attire, form a circle, their faces painted with intricate patterns.
At the center of the ritual space lies a grand altar adorned with representations of the four elements, earth, air, fire, and water. Each element is meticulously crafted with corresponding items, soil, incense, candles, and bowls of water. Positioned at cardinal points around the ritual space are large candles infused with voodoo energy. Their flames dance with an ethereal glow, casting shifting shadows that seem to dance to an otherworldly rhythm.
The ground is marked with sacred symbols, intricately drawn with powders and chalk. These symbols represent the connection between the physical and spiritual realms, establishing a complex geometric pattern. A group of Voodoopunk musicians surrounds the area, playing rhythmic beats on voodoo drums and other mystical instruments. The music builds in intensity, creating a trance inducing backdrop for the ritual.
Various crystals and gemstones, each chosen for its unique spiritual properties, are strategically placed to enhance the flow of energy. Their presence amplifies the connection between the living and the dead.
Voodoopunk priests and priestesses, adorned in ceremonial attire, chant ancient incantations in unison. Their voices resonate with power, reaching into the unseen realms they invoke the spirits to join the ritual. The boundary between the living and the dead blurs, and the Voodoopunks begin to feel the resonance of Elysium.
Thomas bound, stared around him and Constance standing at the edge, “What is going, Constance, stop them, the air is trembling underneath me! Constance?”
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She sniffled and looked at Jackie chanting with Byron, Charlotte and Fay, she had never expected something as grand as this. She felt, fear, the realm of the dead was about to consume them. The room seemed to vanish, for a moment, blackness swirled around them.
Thomas panted in fear, “Oh my god, Byron, stop this!”
He ignored him and kept chanting, “Death has come back to us, back to the salt, whence we came from.”
Constance looked around her, “Oh my god, this is bad, this is bad!”
The darkness went away and was replaced, a psychedelic realm that defies the laws of nature and perception. In this surreal afterlife, the landscape is an otherworldly canvas painted with vibrant hues that transcend the imagination. Constance gasped, She remembered this place, from when she was dead, as Priscilla, Elysium.
Jackie walked forward to Thomas, The ground beneath her feet was a soft carpet of purple grass, each blade radiating its own ethereal glow. The grass seems to pulse with a rhythmic energy, creating a surreal dance of colors that mesmerizes any observer. As she walks, the grass responds to her steps, emitting gentle ripples of light. “Tonight, you will be the vessel, policeman.”
Thomas looked around him, he looked up, the skies were a tapestry of shifting shades of red. It’s as if the entire atmosphere is caught in a perpetual sunset, casting a warm, supernatural glow on the landscape below. The clouds are ethereal wisps of shimmering hues, adding to the dreamlike quality of the surroundings. He gasped, “Please, I don’t want this, please, I beg of you, stop!”
Charlotte grinned, “I promise you, we will make you a new man tonight.” The Voodoopunks started to dance around him.
Thomas felt his mind going away, as if this place was siphoning it. He tried to look for help in the distance. All he saw were strange, luminescent creatures inhabiting this realm, floating gracefully through the air and crawling along the ground. They come in forms that challenge the boundaries of his imagination. Iridescent insects with wings that sing when they flutter, and crystalline beings that emit a soft, melodic hum as they move.
Thomas felt his eyes tear up, the chants were trying to eat his brain, he did not want to give in, he could see Constance, she was scared shitless. He tried focusing on anything that would help him get his footing, the flowers. Flowers with petals that unfold into infinitely smaller versions of themselves, creating mesmerizing fractal patterns. Each bloom becomes a self replicating work of art, dazzling him with its intricate beauty.
“No, not helping, try to focus on something else.” Massive, floating things, his mind said, were Mandelbulbs. These intricate structures created a soft, pulsating glow, inviting contemplation of the infinite complexity contained within. Thomas felt his mind going blank, it hurt inside, so much pain, the rain, there is rain, focus on the rain.
Instead of traditional raindrops, dodecahedra as his mind called them, fell from the sky, each face reflecting a different aspect of the strange, beautiful world around him. The sound of these geometric raindrops hitting the ground is a symphony of crystalline chimes. Then, his mind went blank, he lost the battle of willpower.
Byron noticed and walked closer, a ghost, that of Soldier 7285, Paul, walked over to him. “Byron, you summoned me, you asked the angels to bring me here, and they obeyed. It is my duty to, possess him?”
Byron nodded, “Show him, the way, like Priscilla showed you.”
Paul nodded, “If there is anything I can do for you, then this is the least I can do.” He vanished into Thomas. Constance kept looking in horror.
Thomas started to convulse and spasm. It seemed as if he was in horrible pain. After a while, the spasm stopped.
Constance looked around, she tried wandering off, but a barrier stopped her, she saw Thomas sitting up and essence flew out of him, Soldier 7285. Thomas grunted and drooled, “I understand.”
Byron grinned, “Then, we are done here.” He clapped his hands as everyone stopped chanting, Elysium swirled around him, then the meeting room returned. Thomas fell to the floor.
Charlotte walked over and felt his pulse, “Huh, we did not kill him.”
Constance ran over, “What, kill him? That was not the plan, was it?”
Byron shook his head, “No, he will understand, when he wakes up in the morning. We are going to take district one, he will help us fight, it'll be an all out war. Jackie, Charlotte, Fay, come with me,” they walked into their office leaving Constance and Thomas behind.
Byron panted and blood dripped out of his eyes, “I think that might have been the most intense ritual we ever did. Is everyone okay?”
Fay chuckled, “I am fine, tomorrow we will finally stop the civil war.”
Charlotte sighed, “What is our plan?”
Byron looked at them, “We will gather all rebels and Voodoopunks, Charlotte and Fay go with the larger force to the secondary broadcast tower, making them think we will use that one. Fay and I will take Constance and Thomas to the other one. We will use his helmet to transmit our dolly chant. Then, we wipe them off the floor, once and for all.”
Fay looked at him, “What about the super soldier? I did shoot a hole through him, but, I am sure, he will be back.”
Byron looked at Jackie, “We will distract, John, for as long as we can, then we will see if we can free him from his damned dream.”
Jackie gulped and shed a tear, “Hold on a minute, no one told me that my brother is the fucking super soldier!”
Byron sighed deeply, “We will see if we can save him, he killed a lot of us, but, I am sure we can bring him to see the light. Now, I need to rest, Charlotte?”
She nodded, and together they went to their bedroom, Thomas and Constance were given their own place to sleep. As Byron undressed, Charlotte traced his scars, “Are you ready for the end?”
He looked at her, “Yes, I am, we will finally win this war. The battle of Crier’s Boulevard.”
Charlotte kissed him, “I know, but, this might be our last night together.”
“Charlotte, I don’t think,” he looked at her, “Alright,” he turned off the light.