by David Beers
“Do you love him?” Nicki asked.
“Yes.”
“But you want me to kill him?”
“There is no other way. He won’t bend. He will only break.”
Nicki was quiet for a second, then said, “He’s close. He might already be there.”
Rebecca looked at her. “Can you see him?”
“If I want to, I can. He and I are … we’re connected now. Almost constantly. I didn’t recognize it earlier, but I do now. He’s probably known I was back for some time, since I first appeared in the building.”
Rebecca shook her head, and her voice shuddered when she spoke. “We’re too late.”
Nicki went to her well, the one filled with static and brimming over—creating the pressure in her chest. Her eyes lit gray and suddenly she was no longer in the transport.
She stood on the banks of a river she had never seen. It stretched for miles in each direction, though Nicki knew that didn’t matter.
A ship sat further back, and in front of her were five people.
David Hollowborne was in the middle, his back to her, and only feet from touching the river.
He turned around and the two looked at each other. His eyes weren’t gray and Nicki saw that she was blackness to him, just as he had always been to her.
They stared for a few more seconds, Nicki looking at her fate.
And then, the Prophet’s eyes blazed with static.
Battle
Nicki drew back into the transport, her eyes still glowing.
“There’s no more time,” she said, turning to Rebecca. “If you stay here, you’re going to die.” She looked to Raylyn who sat in the back. “Both of you.”
Nicki was calm, a steadiness possessing her that she couldn’t fully explain. It was as if she’d finally stepped into the front of that unseen train and simply sat down next to the conductor. It was as if the seat had a sign on it which read ‘Nicki’, and now that she was in it, she was where she should be.
“What do we do?” Rebecca asked.
“You come with me, or you die here, but we are out of time.”
“Not much of a choice,” Raylyn said from the back, her voice shaking.
“Bring us, then.”
Gray static exploded from Nicki’s eyes, and it swept out across the transport, obliterating it immediately. The static didn’t stop, though, but swept over the entire sky. Anyone outside, anywhere, saw the world turn the color of the Unformed. A gray that only meant death for all who took its mantle.
We will see Veritros once more now, and then like so many others in this story, leave her to wherever she may fall.
And that is just as well, because Rachel Veritros had finally found whatever happiness could be afforded her any longer.
She had fought for a short while, and then simply watched for a time almost unimaginable. Then again, she had fought, though using different means, and finally, in the last moments of her existence, she watched once more.
Rachel Veritros let go of her fight, of her need to defend, because she finally saw what others only thought might be occurring. She saw the truth—the only one that had ever been, or would ever be: we play in something else’s playground, and though it may love us, it can keep that playground open, or close it whenever it pleases. It is best to simply enjoy playing while one can.
Rachel Veritros watched the two warriors head to battle, both born for it, but one dragged along the entire way while the other rushed toward his destiny.
She watched, and finally felt happiness, because what else could one feel, when acceptance was the only thing available.
“She’s coming.”
Rhett heard the words leave David’s mouth, but nearly as soon as he spoke them, the sky turned the same color as David’s eyes. No clouds, no blue, only burning static as if some strange fire had not only lit, but now burned on every bit of available oxygen.
He lost track of what David said, or really where anyone else was. All Rhett could focus on was the static, an electric heaven he had never imagined before.
“Is it the Unformed?” he asked, not knowing who he was talking to, but unable to think of anything else that might cause such magnificence.
Wind, seemingly from nowhere, ripped around Rhett, tugging at his clothes and whipping his hair across his head.
“Back,” David said. “All of you get back inside the transport.”
Rhett didn’t know what was happening, but he looked to his right and saw David’s hair rushing forward just like his own. Only he wasn’t staring at the space in front of him, but up in the air. Rhett followed his gaze, the others near him doing the same.
Three forms were descending from the sky. Gray static wrapped around each of them, cocooning them inside as it lowered.
“Now,” David said, his voice a deadly whisper yet still rising above the wind.
Rhett didn’t hesitate any longer, but reached for Christine’s arm and started back pedaling, his eyes never leaving the descending figures. Those on the left and the right were wrapped like mummies, but the one in the middle, the gray only danced across her.
Rhett could see her eyes.
Static, just like that around her, just like that raging in David’s own eyes.
Rhett reached the transport, stepping inside the open door with Christine at his side. The other two were running, having stopped looking into the sky and simply turning to make the transport before …
The war, Rhett thought. Veritros fought mankind. David will fight her.
The middle figure paused, and the other two continued their controlled descent. They landed, and as they did, the static covering all three fell away.
It was the same young woman Rhett had gone to, had tried to kill. Her short, blond hair and thin frame hung in the air as easily as David had ever done, and her eyes carried the Unformed’s blessing—that gray which spoke of unimaginable power.
Rhett watched his Prophet rise into the air.
Nicki saw him come, his brilliant eyes broadcasting death.
Nicki did not waste any thoughts about those beneath her. She was in a place she never wanted to be, controlling a power she didn’t understand, but this was where the train stopped, and she had never stepped off.
Something had propelled her this far, and Nicki wouldn’t deny it now. She floated in the sky, and was about to face a creature who had mastered this power long years ago.
Yet, at the same time, she felt like any great artist who sat down at their easel for the first time. She felt at home in this gray static, the well having spilled over and now possessing her completely.
The Prophet stopped his rise, 100 feet from her.
Static lines encircled his hands, and he paused, staring at her.
His lips moved, and the words were in her ears as if his mouth were next to her face.
“Did you know? Did you always know?”
She shook her head. “No … I don’t think anyone knows where they’ll end up.”
“You can leave,” he said, his words traveling that impossibly long distance even as wind pushed and pulled across the expanse. “You can leave now, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure you survive what comes next. There’s no need to die here.”
“I can leave?” Nicki said, with a sad laugh. “I wish that was true. I really do.”
The Prophet stared for another second, no longer a dark image, but in the flesh.
And then the sky—in all of its horrific beauty—attacked Nicki.
“No,” Rebecca whispered. “Oh, blessed Unformed, no.”
How had she ever thought this girl might have a chance? How had she come all this way, bringing someone barely into adulthood, to face David?
Rebecca stood on the ground, Raylyn having rushed to her side the moment they both touched down. She knew Rhett and Christine were here, further down the bank inside the transport, but she never even looked at them. Her eyes were fully focused on the sky.
The two had hung there for a m
inute—so brief, and in those few seconds, Rebecca thought they might have been equals. That perhaps David was frightened, because he didn’t move toward her. He simply looked on.
And then hope died.
The sky fell, and David didn’t move a muscle.
Gray static surged down like mutant lightening. They fell in only one direction, at Nicki Sesam. A large tunnel jutted it out, thinning as it went down, and wrapped itself around her body. It tightened around her with bone crushing strength, and smaller strands broke free from the static, whipping at her exposed flesh. Over and over they came down, slashing across her face and arms.
Rebecca saw blood sizzling against the static as the strands’ beating intensified.
The girl’s eyes still burned gray, but Rebecca saw she could do nothing. David hung in the distance, still not moving, only gazing with those haunting eyes.
Far, far from either of the two, Rebecca saw a massive, static filled drop fall from the sky. It paused in the air for a second, hesitating, looking like some sort of moon. Rebecca knew what it meant: death for Nicki … and then death for the universe.
The strands continued striking down and the static orb started forward. Slowly, containing mass that couldn’t immediately move at great speeds, it came. Heading directly toward Nicki.
“Stellan died for you, you fucking bitch. Now it’s your turn.”
Rebecca heard the words, turning the moment they reached her ears.
She turned just in time to see an object break her face.
As above, so below.
A war raged in the sky, and now Rhett would do what David hadn’t been able to. He might have allowed his sister to live, but Rhett wouldn’t. He hadn’t even said anything to Christine; he had simply gone to the back of the transport, rummaged in a toolbox, and brought out the lengthiest pipe he could find.
If the toolbox hadn’t been there, he would have used his fist.
Rhett didn’t look up at the sky, nor at the water rushing along his right. He didn’t hear the wind whipping by his ears. His senses focused on only one thing, the person who nearly murdered his Prophet—the man that gave them purpose.
Rebecca was staring into the sky as he marched—head slightly down—right to her.
He started speaking about two feet from her, rearing his arm back as he did, the pipe extending further into the air.
“Stellan died for you, you fucking bitch. Now it’s your turn.”
He watched as she turned, her movement eerily like David’s, and then brought the pipe forward. It smashed across her left cheek, splitting the flesh and sending blood spurting across her face and into the air.
He heard a slight scream, though whether Rebecca or the woman next to her made it, he didn’t know.
Rebecca collapsed to the ground. Her eyes were fluttering, but her hand was at her face, meaning she wasn’t unconscious—and that was what Rhett wanted.
He pointed the pipe forward at Brinson. “You interfere, you can die too.”
The woman only stared at him, confusion reigning in her eyes.
Rhett looked for a second longer, deciding she was no threat, and then bent over Rebecca.
“He might love you, but I don’t.”
He grabbed her right arm and ripped it backward, forcing her onto her back, and then knelt down with one knee on either side.
He grabbed the pipe with both hands and then brought it down on her throat, though not pressing hard. Her eyes were still fluttering as blood flowed freely down her cheek.
“Look at me, Rebecca. Look at me right fucking now.” Rhett took his right hand off the pipe and slapped her across the open wound. Rebecca’s eyes flared open. “There. There you go,” he said, pressing the pipe back down on her neck. “I want you to see this, Rebecca. I want you to know it was me that killed you. I’m not going to hide behind Ministries or even David. You’re going to look me right in the eye while I do it.”
Rhett looked up for a second, toward the girl. She was a bloody rag, and Rhett didn’t know how she was still alive. He turned around slightly, too, finally noticing the river. Steam was rising from it and he thought it was just about ready to boil.
“Look around, Rebecca. See everything very clearly, even through that swollen eye. You lost. Whatever you wanted to stop, you didn’t have a chance. That girl up there? She’s nothing. You down here? You’re nothing.”
He was quiet for a second, not pressing down too hard, letting her take in what he’d just seen.
“Okay,” Rhett said. “Now you know.”
And then he pushed the metal pipe down, smashing it against her wind pipe. Her hands when to it, weakly, trying to press back, to move him at all, but there was nothing she could do.
Her face first turned red, and then purple, and Rhett kept pressing, knowing that death was soon.
“YOU DID THIS!” he screamed. “YOU DID IT TO US! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN HERE! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN WITH US!” The last word was a shriek that rose above the whipping wind and angry water. It swirled through the air like a mad bird, raging on amphetamines with its only goal to pick the eyes of every living creature.
“I love you,” the woman beneath Rhett said, spit flecking onto her lips. “I’ll always love you.”
David didn’t move. He remained in the same place, feeling the static sky as if it was another appendage. This woman, barely an adult, had come to stop him without understanding anything at all.
She was still alive, though her flesh in tatters and a fine mist of blood hung around her. David could see it even from this distance.
He floated forward slowly. Time was nearly done for this woman. The final blast was still in the distance yet, but the speed was increasing with each second. In a minute, she would no longer exist.
As he moved closer, he took her in—or what was left of her. Was it arrogance that brought her here? This young woman, thinking she could somehow make a difference? David had felt her power, yes—and perhaps even feared it some—but to wield it was something else entirely.
She saw it now.
Without a doubt.
She had been pretty and graceful when she first dropped from the sky, but now her flesh was ragged and her body broken. David could feel the shattered bones beneath her clothes, and the thick cord of static wrapping around her squeezed tighter against them. Cracked things rubbing against one another. If he placed her down now, she wouldn’t be able to stand at all, but would simply collapse the moment her feet touched ground.
She was alive, but David thought that only because of the gray in her eyes. It was the only thing keeping her body from dying.
David reached her. The gray mass was coming now, rolling forward across the air, and soon—very soon—it would destroy this person.
Her name was Nicki Sesam and David took her in fully. The thin gray strands ceased their whipping, and he looked at a woman shredded. Strings of skin hung from her face, her arms. Raw, bleeding meat stared back at him. Her scalp, which had been full of blonde hair, was now in strips. Hair attached to flesh hung from the side, a grand strand having ripped it off.
“You should have left,” he said. “I would have made sure you lived. You didn’t deserve this. You have no place in this. Don’t you see that? You never did.”
The girl only stared at him and David wondered if she could see him at all. If she could hear anything he said at all, or if she was far past that.
It didn’t matter any longer.
“Perhaps we’ll see each other soon. My time isn’t long here either. Perhaps we’ll both go to the Unformed.”
And that was all he could do for the girl.
With blazing speed, David flew backward, his arms spread in the air.
The massive drop that had fallen from the sky enveloped Nicki Sesam, washing across her like a wave does a sandcastle. It slowed as it continued moving, until it finally came to a stop a short distance from where the girl had been. She was no more. David stared on for another second, not yet wanting to vanquish
the sky nor the static orb in front of him.
Let it stay, he thought. Let it all stay, and when the Unformed arrives, this will be Its parade.
David lowered himself to the ground, turning to the river as he did.
People were to his left and right, but they no longer mattered. David took a step, stumbled, and then straightened. He took a deep breath, and when he released the air, he coughed blood onto the dirt in front of him. It sat there atop the brown grit, telling him exactly what was happening.
You’re dying, Prophet. Bring forth your God, and then be done with it all.
David wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, not looking at the blood smeared there. He went forward, gray spreading from his eyes and wrapping around his body. It spread over his clothes and skin alike, protecting him from what was to come.
Rachel Veritros had lowered into the river from high above, but David simply floated over the top, inches above the boiling liquid.
David Hollowborne, creature of pain and anger, finally reached his destiny. It was truthfully all he ever wanted, and he had finally achieved it.
The Prophet dropped inside the river and the world saw him no more.
Pain wasn’t a word that could accurately describe what Nicki Sesam felt. It might have been like saying the blind were in darkness, but that was only how those with sight might try describing it.
Darkness might be the correct word, but it did nothing for the totality of the blind’s experience. Its unendingness. Its infinite nature.
That was Nicki Sesam’s pain.
She had heard the dark man’s words—Hollowborne’s. He told her to leave, and she’d only laughed at him, because it showed how little he knew. She couldn’t leave. She could do nothing but ride the train until it stopped in front of him, that or have jumped off long before.
But it was too late to jump off, and so she laughed, then foolishly acted as if she was ready for battle.
He acted with speed that almost couldn’t be seen. Nicki tried to stop it, she truly did. She tried countering, tried calling on the gray above her, the gray within her—gray anywhere that she could find it.