“I'm starting to unravel the mysteries as to why this has happened. I'm piecing together the clues.”365Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVlhdMqhfFx
A dark skin man that he only knew by his first name, which was Denzel, spoke up. He was part of Robert’s staff; an important person in the day to day operation of the base. Descriptive wise, he was recognizable by his wide forehead and a large flat nose. When he was speaking to the room, it was in a deep voice, soft and slow. Despite the crisis, the man never seemed to be in a hurry to say anything or to get anything done. That was not to say he was slow or slacked off. Furthest from it in fact, he was the most reliable person on the base. He just took his time getting things done, “We searched for the last six month to no avail what makes you so certain?”
He looked down at the map, his eyes fixated on the museum, “This is our target.”365Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡANKE2MMMsh
“I don’t like this buddy,” Michael said, “you have been acting all kinds of crazy,” he added, taking a bite out of the cookie, “These are real good by the way. Regardless, you suddenly appeared with cookies babbling about Otessa.”
“Listen, I'm not crazy. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm not. But really is it so crazy to think that those creatures are demons with the dead up and walking around? What about those abominations in the building. Kaufman, you said we’re chosen?”365Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn2Gkm6ZB6c
“He’s right, crazy, but right. What makes us so different?” Kaufman asked, speaking up, “We were left to guard this planet for some reason. We are suffering for a reason. The undead are proof of that!”
“Undead is a good word instead of the slow ones,” it was Robert who was speaking of retrospect, “We have been hesitating to use it because it sounds preposterous. The fact remains that the crazies are essentially undead. Even though I have no proof, I think the source of their reanimation is possession by demons.”
A tall lanky man stood up to add his own input. Robert recognized him as Benjamin Marsett, a member of the civilian council and was well known for his inability to close his lower jaw. It hung partially open at all times. Personally, Robert had no qualms with the man, “Of all the things we've seen here to date, is the idea of demons so far fetch? With all the deaths? We must find out how to kill these creatures.”
Robert left the cramped dark recesses of the bunker for a warmer room with different surroundings. Perhaps it was another vision? It looked like the living room of some old Victorian house with these white wooden chairs around engraved very old wooden table, with a wrought iron chandelier hanging above. While a glassy-eyed woman with frizzy red hair paced back and forth, “I know what you’re planning but it’s not time yet. You have to free the one eyed demon,” the map he had previously been looking at appeared on the table, “Seek the shining star.”
His mind began working fast, trying to find the meaning behind the shining star. Then he remembered something from his childhood, a Jewish church that had a light up Star of David on top the steeple, “You mean the Star of David?”
“Go there and find your answers,” she said before he was suddenly and inadvertently back with the other survivors.
“Changes of plans, what can you tell me about this place?” he points to the map.
“That place is a war-zone deep in the Red-R zone. It was first used as a civilian shelter, but didn't become the way it is today until the military used it as a hold out zone. That was before some of their own were possessed and they were wiped out,” Red zones were hostile territory especially infested or contested by the undead. To date there were two types red zones; the normal one was in inhabited by primarily the undead, but by the possessed in limited number as well. The Red-R zones were infested primarily by the possessed that were less durable than the undead, but infinitely more deadly. Trips through these zones were usually deceptively uninteresting up until the moment where things rapidly turned into a fight to the death against thousands of enemies that would appear seemingly out of nowhere. This is primarily the reason why people avoided them.
“Gear up, we’re taking a trip deep inside the red zone.”
“You’re talking about a suicide trip for laughable and barely understood reasons,” Benjamin scoffed, offering a warning, “You have my blessing on this fools errand, but only because I have no intention of sitting here waiting to die.”
Robert heard a voice which he couldn't quite place coming from the back of the command center, “I'll have to agree with Robert. He’s the one that united us, who first form the coalition. You can say whatever you like about his visions, but you got to admit they have gotten us this far and have failed to disappoint. The man has kept us alive and fed, more to point he has given us hope. If our survival depends on our greater understanding of the enemy that took so much away from us and that requires us to go there, then let’s go!” Despite little known about this soldier, his voice carried weight, seeming to strike a chord with the room as there were several murmurs of, “Yeah!” When he saw the man’s bony face, he didn't recognize the high ridged cheek bones or the stony gaze.
“It’s settled then, by first light we head for the church!”
They were right, this place was a war-zone. There were blast craters, signs of fire, and small arms fire covering the entire area and surrounding structures. Military crap was strewn about as well. Tanks and Bradley (infantry fighting) vehicles were left abandoned; except for one tank that seemed too have been destroyed with explosives. There was even several over turned Humvees. Corpses rotting away to bones were in plain sight.
Inside the church was much the same with piles of old bones making the church seem medieval Gothic. The church main area was two large rooms inter-connected and lined with pews. The church altar was four feet off of the ground above the main floor and a man had died there holding a sign. If he had to make a guess, the man had been a priest. “Split up,” he said.
Something around the priests neck caught his attention; it was a necklace with the Star of David. Engraved with Latin words that read 'May God Forgive Our Sins'. At the alter was an indentation that would fit the necklace. Placing the necklace inside, it revealed a secret compartment within the wooden podium with a knife blocking the opening mechanism. Once the dagger was freed, he could hear chains cranking and the sounds of gears grinding. Suddenly dust began falling from the rafters and the entire altar was shaking. Several men rushed to his aid, but they ended up standing there in confusion, effectively useless. Underneath the altar was a marble coffin.
The soldier from earlier made his way forward, “What's inside?”
“What's your name?” he asked turning to look at him. The man’s stony gaze seemed to pierce the coffin to see what he couldn't.
“Marcus William,” he replied never breaking his gaze.
“Well Marcus, a one eyed demon,” Robert says grabbing the lid and pulling it open. He took a moment to comprehend the underwhelming sight. It was a girl, not some, one eyed eight foot tall slimy red skinned hell beast. She had a slender feminine head with light brown hair that partially covered her largely spaced, bright grey, oval eyes, rosy cheeks, a small nose with a flat tip, but large nostrils, large lips on a triangular jaw with a broad pointy chin. Her skin was clean, seemingly chiseled from stone. Her mouth and lips were naturally turned up causing her to have a permanent smile. Everyone jumped when her eyes opened.
“Oh god, you guys? I mean yeah, it’s the end of the world, but I'm stuck with you bozos? Thank you angels!” she cried out, huffing.
“Good buddy, why do you always have to be thinking with your dick?” Michael asks shaking his head in mock disapproval.
The woman heard this and her eyes locked on to Robert in very creepy sort of way. She parted her lips before licking them, “Hello their tiger.”
Robert's expression went from just plain uncomfortable all the way to annoyed beyond any measure of control, “I'm married. What is with the supernatural and hitting on me?”
“Besides your good caring demeanor, the fact you’re handsome and you’re the chosen one?” Though her words sounded like a question, they weren't meant to be. “So you’re the bozo they sent out on this fetch quest to obtain the book and defeat evil wholly?”
“Great, why did I even bother,” Robert said with a sigh prompting Michael to pat him on the back to cheer him up.
"I hate to interrupt our love affair but we should be going or my brother and sister will disapprove."
Robert slightly cheered up, "You even have genders?"
"In life yes, but most of us can’t remember our mortal lives. What we can remember we cling to desperately, even though it has little effect on us now."
"Story for another time perhaps," Robert said, ending the conversation. "Lets move"
"You going to help a girl out," she said, still lying in coffin feinting helplessness. Michael walked up to help her out, but she slapped his hand, “I want Robert.”
“For the love of God,” he said grabbing her and throwing her out of the coffin, “If I never see another apocalypse, it will be too soon.”
She was being snarky about the entire ordeal, “You sure know how to treat a lady!” He was five second from rolling his eyes, instead he just face palmed.
“You’re a fucking demon act like one,” he stopped himself, “don’t act like one.”
Outside Robert was getting some bad vibes, really, really bad vibes. The only one apparently aware of this though, was the damn demon, “Something wrong there dear?” she asked him.
“Yeah, I have a bad feeling we're not alone.”
She gave a snarky tisk tisk, followed by a real half smile, “You think they would let you free a traitor and just walk out of here?”
“Glorious,” he said, “lock and load!” There was the sound of weapons cocking. A faint breeze blew past them bringing the faint smell of sulfur. The first few had arrived, charging at them. There was limited small arms exchanged and the first wave fell to the ground dead.
The woman spoke up, “The name is Dahlia. If there are any of these people you wish to save I would avoid shooting them.”
“You can save them,” Robert asked her, puzzled.
She face palmed, ”You’re not much of a savior are you? Their possessed just like this body that I'm riding around in. They can be exorcised. Sadly, I'm the only one that knows how to in this stupid world. Ladies and gentlemen, our big heroes.”
“Too many to save now. Wouldn't you need a priest?”
“Your religion is ass backward, but yes. You need a man of holy connection or descendent. Listen, I'm going to set up a spell, hold them off.” He was really starting to hate her.
“Open fire,” he screamed filling the area with the sounds of small arms fire. For every one of the creatures killed, ten more would take their place. His mind was tugging at his subconscious in an effort to point out that even without anyone being maimed or killed, they were steadily losing ground. The creatures still died like he remembered, but he wasn't aiming for the head this time. It took between three and a dozen rounds to the body to drop a person capable of closing the distance in seconds, “Fall back to the church,” he said, waving them towards it.
He stayed outside until the last person made it inside before falling back himself. He closed the door and locked it, making a motion for it to be barricaded. The sheer amount of windows made it unlikely to hold for more than a few precious seconds, “Dahlia, how is it coming with the hocus pocus?”
She was on the ground floor which meant they couldn't retreat upstairs. She yelled back, “I haven’t done this in over six-hundred years!”
“Fuck, good enough!” he screamed. He heard a window shattering, firing in that direction with his M-16 on instinct. Another window shattered, and another. It was just like with home, windows shattering, the assailants covered in glass. They just kept coming and he kept greeting them with bullets and wit. They were gaining ground inside. He heard a voice screaming, “Reloading.” He moved over to take his place, but instead found the soldier being attacked by a man swinging a knife. Coming in from behind, he used his M-16 to whip the knife out of the attackers hand, ramming the butt of the rifle into his face. Then Robert turned his rifle back against another assailant coming through the window. The 5.56 rounds combined with her own momentum sent her tumbling out the window, landing with sickening thud on the pavement outside. He heard a laugh from off to his left, without a thought he pulled out his side-arm, downing the target, “Well, this has gone to shit!”
“Robert, get over here,” it was Dahlia. She had drawn all type of bizarre symbols and Latin scribbling all over the altar, “Let me see your hand,” he didn't even think about it, just outstretched his hand, which she promptly slashed. The blood from the wound dripped on to the symbols causing them to glow for a second before flashing out in a massive explosion and then dead silence, “I hate how all spells require blood and slashing of your hand? How Cliché,” he heard a bizarre sound, pain. The demons feel no pain and made no noise. Once wounded in battle, they just lay there quietly with this look across their face of contempt and paranoia. In a bizarre change of fate, even the people they thought they had killed were crying out in pain. In a world of silence, it was refreshing, “Listen up, check the wounded. See if there is anyone here we can save,” he knelt down by the man he had knocked unconscious. He was breathing now. Demons don’t breathe either; it’s almost as if their victims were permanently in suspended animation. He heard a noise that made him rush outside. Hundreds of people were stumbling around, mostly in a state of shock or confusion.
“Listen up!” Robert called out to the people. Most just look on glassy-eyed like they were in a trance. A few did respond. He heard quite a few, “How did I get here?”
“Listen, I’ll try to explain the situation to the best of my ability, but look around. You can see the answer all the around you.”
A member of his squad approached, saluting him, before informing him, “We don’t have the man power to get half of these people back to base.”
“Get on the horn, tell them to send help. We got survivors. Check ammo and weapons and be quick about it. This place is going to be hottest spot in town in a few hours.”
“You have no idea,” he heard a female voice coming up from behind, “There are more demons coming soon, plus things you haven’t even encountered. These things are simply corrupted human souls. There are far worse things out there and you just lit up a giant neon sign. They can detect the exorcism not to mention the sudden loss of their troops.”
“Move the wounded into the vehicles and check to see if they have fuel,” The men who weren't inside carrying out rescue operations rushed out to the vehicle.
They had some good news, “The vehicles have full tanks of gas.”
Guess they decided it was pointless to go anywhere so they didn't bother, “Okay, lets get these vehicles rolling. I wanted these vehicles out of here by the hour.”
He heard Michael coming up behind him, “This is a major victory, and the human race is finally taking its first steps away from the abyss. You owe it all to your new found friend.”
“You’re going to owe me big,” she said, walking up beside him.
“What are you, Dahlia?”
“Like them, an ancient soul corrupted by the fallen, perverse corruption of creation. I escaped before my time into the mortal plane and took this body two thousand years ago.”
“If you’re that old how come you don’t look like you have aged? Though I suspect that I already know the answer. Once you take possession of their bodies, they become frozen in time like a photograph. Never ageing and having no sense of time or memory of events while being possessed.”
“You’re indeed correct. We completely suppress the bodies we take possession of. Nothing of the host remains but nothing is destroyed either. It’s like you said; a photograph. A victim of demon possession can’t escape by dying or any other method, the demon must let go voluntarily and in most cases they refuse. For the demon itself, life is a nightmare. We have no concept of time or purpose. We’re unable to remember our past lives, destroying anything you would consider life or humanity. We’re an unbridled negative emotion. For every demon has its own poison, some commit murder while others it's rape. For me it was debauchery. I delighted in the destruction of marriages or vows of celibacy. I drive men to ever more immoral acts of passion eventually leading them to kill their own spouses.”
“How did you escape?”
“A chance encounter with the cursed fallen who was living here on earth. He was living with a beautiful woman in on the outskirts of the Roman territory during the dawn of Christianity. I seduced him, driving his wife away. Once he realized what he had done and who I am, he cursed me with humanity. He discovered what he had done was actually a miracle because no demon has ever escaped and recovered their humanity, but that simple act was an even bigger act of betrayal. The cursed are part of damned, though they’re not aware or have knowledge of it. He freed one of their slaves and for that they hunted him throughout the age. This man eventually found himself in charge of the Catholic Church and the Templars. Instead watching me be destroyed, I was hidden away until the apocalypse. Apparently I’m part of some prophecy. My price for this knowledge is high and doesn’t come free.”
dge is high and doesn’t come free.”
ns 15.158.61.48da2
