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The Nost
Chapter Eleven: The Order

Chapter Eleven: The Order

Jack woke with a start, Ann’s plea echoing in his mind. He looked around, the dream already fading, and tried to focus. He was lying on a gray metal framed bed in a small room with off-white padded walls. A plain wooden cross hung on the padded door at his feet. A small window was set into the top of the door. It looked like very thick glass. The smell of incense and disinfectant mingled in the air.

Also, there was a person sitting on a small wooden stool beside him. Jack jerked away, pushing himself up from the bed. After recovering from his surprise, he recognized the kid from the hospital. He was wearing thick brown robes that matched the color of his bowl-shaped hair, and the wire-rimmed glasses had disappeared.

“Where am I?” Jack’s voice was a cracked whisper and his tongue felt like chalk. The young man passed him a glass of water. He must be around sixteen or seventeen, Jack thought. He took the glass and slowly raised it to his lips.

“You’re safe,” the kid said.

Jack handed the empty glass back to him.

“From what?” Jack asked.

The kid’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth skewered to one side, but he said nothing. Jack looked down and noticed that he was wearing a thick white robe. He scanned the room but didn’t see his clothes, only the bed, chair, and the cross on the door.

“Why did you help me?” Jack asked. His mind was sharpening, and he wanted to know where he was, who this kid was, and why they were in a padded room. But he didn’t want to be too forceful, not until he knew if the door was locked.

“I was watching you,” he said.

“You were the volunteer trying to get into my room? The one Stangle was yelling at, weren’t you,” Jack asked.

The boy nodded.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Bobby.”

The kid’s voice was soft and seemed to be kind, but Jack’s senses were screaming at him. Something was wrong. He tried to focus on Bobby’s emotions, but couldn’t detect much, just a contented calm. It was like everything in his world was right. It was unsettling. He was growing accustomed to the conflict of emotions tumbling through people he talked to. They seemed to always be there, underneath, like subtle background noise. Sometimes it was a gentle sway of emotions, like in the diner with Ann. And sometimes there was a violent surge of emotions, like in the office with Ben.

There also seemed to be underlying insecurity in everyone. People around him were just as confused as him, filled with anxiety. He doubted most people were even aware of what this underlying current of unease. But this kid, Bobby, was a smooth lake of contentment.

“How long have I been out?” Jack sat up and arranged his robes so he could swing his legs over the side of the bed.

“You’ve been asleep for nearly eight hours,” Bobby said.

Panic twisted his stomach into a knot, but he pushed down. Ann in a box. Water running. “Where are we?” His feet slid into a pair of plain brown slippers and he slowly stood up, testing his muscles. Aches and pains ran through him, but he’d felt worse.

“Hurry, Jack,” Ann’s last plea echoed in his mind.

“Wait—” Bobby said.

“Where are my clothes?”

Jack felt a ripple on the surface of Bobby’s contentment. Jack stretched his arms and rolled his head from side to side before asking, “Where are we?”

“We’re safe,” Bobby said, standing. He moved to the door.

“You said that already, but Ann isn’t,” Jack said. He stepped up to the door, beside Bobby, and felt a stab of fear from him as they touched, but it dissolved the instant they lost contact. He peeked through the small window into the hallway. Contentment pushed through him in waves below the surface of his thoughts, slowly massaging his mind. It wasn’t his contentment. It was more like a broadcast, like Darean’s compulsion at Union Station, but subtle. He hadn’t noticed it until he touched and lost contact with Bobby. Maybe Darean had taken him. He tried to open the door but there was no handle and the glass in the small window was at least two inches thick.

“Am I a prisoner? Do you work for Darean?”

Bobby tilted his head to the side and thought for a moment. Jack imagined that he saw a tinge of surprise pass over the boy’s face. But he couldn’t tell if the expression rode on a powerful emotion since this place jumbled his senses, and Bobby recovered quickly.

“We do not work for the demon Darean. We walk in the light. Our task is to keep your kind safely away from the world,” Bobby said.

“Why?” Jack said, leaning toward the boy.

Bobby shuffled backward.

“I must take you to Father Norman,” he said. He rapped his knuckles on the window three times slowly, then twice quickly. Jack stepped back when he heard the door latch click. He had the urge to reach for a sidearm that wasn’t there. The door swung open to a stone hallway. It looked medieval to Jack, like one of the castle tours he had taken when he was stationed overseas. Except this gray stone hallway had black lanterns jutting out from the walls every eight feet or so. The flickering lights created dancing shadows on the walls. He smelled a hint of unburned natural gas and wondered what would happen if there was a leak in this tight space.

“Follow me,” Bobby said, turning to the left.

Jack stared at the back of the retreating figure who opened the door. Swaying brown robes and gray hair was all he could make out in the dim light.

“Come on,” Bobby said, from further down the hall. Jack hurried to catch him. He didn’t want to be alone in this place. Doors lined the wide corridor, similar to his. The air in the hallway was cool and musty, and the hint of unburned gas tickled his nostrils. He had the impression they were underground. And the undercurrent of contentment was cracking now that he knew it was there. It was definitely someone, or something, projecting the emotion.

“Who’s Norman, Bobby?” Jack asked.

“All of your questions will be answered soon,” he said. He wanted to touch the boy, to see if contact broke the interference of contentment, but he held his hands at his side. Maybe he could get some answers from Norman. Maybe these were Nostshen trying to help him. A surge of hope made his heart skip a beat. Surely the Shen were organized.

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They rounded a corner, and Bobby led him through winding hallways. There were more doors, but none with thick glass windows. Jack was struggling to remember the way when they finally stepped through a wooden door and into a large chamber. Huge tapestries lined the walls. To Jack, the textile images looked like clergymen battling demons. Flames crackled in a fireplace across the room, casting shadows on the scenes, making it seem as if the figures were moving in an endless struggle. An antique chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling and old polished oak chairs sat in front of the fire. A desk covered with piles of papers and books rested in the far corner.

“Welcome child,” a man said, rising from one of the chairs. His voice was gentle with an undertone of authority. Not unlike commanders he had served under in the past. Instead of a familiar uniform, though, this man wore deep red robes with white cuffs and a rosary around his neck. His bald head was splotched with age, but his hazel eyes were bright and clear. Bobby gave a humble bow as the man approached.

“A priest?” Jack asked, looking from Bobby to the newcomer. “Priest Norman?”

“Father Norman,” Bobby said. “This is Jack.”

Norman’s bright eyes search his face, but Jack felt only contentment from the man. He fought against his own urge to relax.

“I need to go,” Jack said. “I—”

“Soon child, but for now we must postpone our meeting. I have a council to attend. Bobby, if you’ll have Mr. Blackwell back here in one hour, please.”

Norman had a slurred accent Jack could not place.

“Yes, Father,” Bobby said, with a slight bow.

“Am I a prisoner?” Jack asked.

“Heavens, no. Now please accompany Bobby back to your room,” Norman said. Jack felt a subtle urge to obey and wondered if it was coming from the priest or his imagination. As Norman passed him, intent on the hallway beyond, Jack brushed against his sleeve. Crippling fear nearly buckled his knees. He stumbled back a step and the blanket of contentment fell around him once more.

“One hour Bobby,” Norman said, as he disappeared around the corner.

Jack straightened, catching his breath. He had never sensed so much fear and anger in one person. Not even when he experienced his boss’s trauma had the rage been so strong, or the fear. And Ben had committed murder. When Darean enthralled him, he felt all-powerful but controlled. Norman, though, was filled with a maelstrom of rage, barely under control, fueled by a deep well of fear. It felt like… Jack searched for a word, “It’s riotousness,” he finally said. “On the outside, it’s riotousness.”

“What did you say?” Bobby asked.

“Nothing,” Jack said. “That guy has problems.”

“Jack, he is the highest of our order and the head of the council. You must show respect.”

“He’s some kind of zealot Bobby. A barely contained zealot with a need to… I don’t know, destroy maybe? What’s really going on here? Who are you?”

“We must go back to your room now. I will fetch you some food and drink.”

“Fetch me food and drink? Who talks like that? I don’t want food and drink and I’m not going back to that cell. Give me my clothes.”

“I can’t do that—”

Jack waved his hand at Bobby and stormed out of the room.

“Stop,” Bobby said, hurrying to catch up. He stepped in front of Jack, putting out his hand. “You can’t go that way.”

“Watch me,” Jack said, leaning into Bobby’s face without touching him. Bobby flinched and Jack stepped around him. Bobby spun and hurried to catch up.

“It’s clear that high priest Norm is used to absolute obedience, but I’m going to disappoint him.”

“Jack, we have to—”

“You know it’s more intense when I touch you, don’t you?” Jack said, looking back at him.

Bobby said nothing.

“You know about us,” Jack said.

“We…” Bobby trailed off.

“You what, Bobby?”

Jack turned and stalked down the hallway, but he didn’t see any sign of Norman as he glared into each room they passed. Most of them were barren or housed a single bed or table.

“We are taught, Jack,” Bobby said.

When he didn’t go on, Jack asked, “About the Nostshen?”

“Yes, about all the Nost, as you call yourselves. Please stop, Jack.”

Jack turned a corner, stopping to stare down another long hallway. He sighed, spinning around to face Bobby.

“What Bobby?”

“You know…” Bobby swallowed and looked at him with wide eyes, “you know what you are. Father Norman sent me out for you, said you had not awakened.”

“Well, your intel was wrong. And who are you with?” Jack asked. “The Shu? Are you a Shi like Janile or a Mara?” He remembered Darean mentioning Nostmara and wondered what they were.

Bobby shuddered again and said nothing. Jack raised his hand as if to touch him.

“We are the Mission of Christian World Salvation, MCWS,” Bobby said in a hurry.

“The what?”

“We call it the Order.”

“What do you do? Are you Nost?”

Bobby looked around as if someone would hear.

“Bobby,” Jack took a step toward him.

“This way,” Bobby said, ducking into a nearby room. It was empty except for a bed and a small desk.

“We are not Nost, we protect the world from you,” Bobby said.

Jack tilted his head and stared, pursing his lips.

“No, really,” Bobby said.

“You’re serious?”

He supposed it wasn’t so far-fetched. He had just met Ann in a dream, apparently in the In-between. Why shouldn’t there be a secret order protecting humanity?

“I am,” Bobby said.

“Explain then, because I don’t feel like a threat to humanity.”

“The Nostshu and Nostshen are ancient. They are outcasts from Heaven. Shen are demons, trapped in a cycle of rebirth to atone for their sins. Shu are fallen angels who live forever on earth. Two evils in different forms locked into an eternal struggle. Without us, they would tear the world apart. We are the wall that protects humanity.”

“You think I’m a demon?”

“Yes. You are Shen, reborn from sin into sin,” Bobby said. He searched Jack’s face in the dim light. “There are two types of demons, Jack, those who are wholly born and those that have been possessed. You, I believe, have been possessed. A demon rides within you. It happens if your sins are great or your tempestuous soul ripe. At birth a demon infests you, taking its time to manifest as you age.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Jack said, rolling the thought around. “But I’ve learned a lot over the last few days and suspect you might be a little mixed up. I was a little crazy most of my life and it felt like a demon was inside me. But that was Jode’s remnant. He caught me in the In-between on the way to my rebirth this time. But I’ve bonded with Ann, ejected the remnant, and fended off the Shen madness.” Technically, he thought, he hadn’t awakened, but Bobby didn’t need to know that since it seemed to give him some leverage. “And if you’re Christian, how do you even believe in rebirth?”

“We are true believers. Early Christians knew the truth about spiritual rebirth, or what they called being ‘born again’ and physical rebirth on Earth. To be reborn is to have another chance. If someone is possessed, they are paying for sins in a past life. Probably for not accepting God and reaching Heaven. Sometimes, Shen awaken in their host bodies and devour the human soul until there is only a demon left. But God is merciful and gives us many chances.”

“So, when Shen demons awaken, they eat the host soul and are evil incarnate. But sometimes pour souls like mine are possessed by Shen demons at birth who never awaken?”

“Yes. But if you are awakened, as you say, then you have passed the point of salvation and must be deceiving me now. If we cleanse you, the human soul trapped inside you will be free to live a more sacred life when it returns.”

“If all this were true, why would the Shu and Shen fight each other? Wouldn’t we all serve Satan?” Jack said, deciding not to mention the Isle of Song or the Lab.

“Satan is the great trickster. He thrives on chaos,” Bobby said.

“Why?”

“He sows madness in his effort to overtake Heaven and Earth.”

“Huh,” Jack said, trying to summon a solid argument against it. Something this boy would understand. “You knew the name Darean?” Jack asked.

“He is Nostshu and goes by many names, like Azazel or Iblis. He is very powerful, very dangerous. A fallen angel. You serve him?”

“No, but we’ve met,” Jack said. “He thinks he’s a god. And I’m not awakened, exactly, despite my best efforts. But Ann and I have bonded, and there are a few things I can do.” Jack wrapped his fingers around Bobby’s wrist. The feeling of serenity was shattered by fear and self-doubt. It was a cocktail of anxiety raging like a river through Bobby. Jack’s stomach cramped, and he locked his knees to keep from falling. Everyone seemed to have an undercurrent of subtle anxiety, but this was overwhelming. He stared at the boy and wondered how he was still functioning. I have to bridge this emotion into his memories to learn who he is. Bobby tried to pull away, but Jack tightened his grip.