by Cara Lake
Since the win and the initial elation, he had begun to feel unsettled, disorientated. He now wondered if that had more to do with the girl he’d seen in the crowd that night, rather than anything else. He had tried to explain how he felt to Sal and he thought Sal might have been about to open up to him, when Abrasax arrived, flanked by three large male heavies. Having seen the monitors, he now realized that Abrasax’s arrival had been no coincidence. He had been watching and listening. Tyr remembered his irritation that Abrasax had interrupted his discussion with Sal.
Abrasax strode in, his cashmere coat a stark white against the shabby gray walls of the gym. The three males spread out to take up positions around Tyr and Sal. Tyr recognized two of them from his time running with the street gangs. Moloch and Dagon were mindless thugs who excelled in inflicting pain on their victims, enjoying their work with excessive enthusiasm. Sal dropped his towel and turned to face Abrasax. “You come to check up on our boy?”
Abrasax drew two cigars out of his pocket, handing one to Sal who took it but didn’t light it. The third heavy lit Abrasax’s and he blew out rings of smoke in a smooth breath. “I’ve come to check on his potential, that it’s still contained and ready for realignment.” Sal’s head dropped for a second as Tyr struggled to understand what the hell Abrasax was talking about.
“Potential”! I’ve just won the world heavyweight title for crissakes! Potential fulfilled, I’d say, thought Tyr, wondering at the increasing tension between the two men.
Sal appeared nervous all of a sudden but replied in a resigned tone, “Tyr needs to know the truth.”
“And what truth is that, Sal? Think before you speak,” Abrasax countered, flicking cigar ash casually before taking another drag.
“The truth about his origins, what he is, what you are.”
“Sal,” interrupted Abrasax in a menacing tone, “you know it is not yet time. Only when the other potential has been revealed can we explain those things. Only when he is fully contained and ours should we even consider it.”
“He has a right to choose, Abrasax, not to be brainwashed like you have countless others before.”
That remark seemed to catch Abrasax’s attention and it was then that Tyr recalled catching a flicker of yellow in his eyes. “Well, well, well,” drawled Abrasax slowly. “It seems you have been living amongst the Earthani for too long. Their sense of fair play has affected your judgement and your loyalty. That is the result of integrating, mating with one of them.” He spat out the last words vehemently.
Sal’s eyes had widened at that and Tyr had caught the fear in his gaze. “Leave my family out of this.”
“You have set these events in motion, Sal, too late to back track now,” Abrasax replied, crushing the cigar butt with deliberation under the heel of his expensive brogues. He motioned to two of his thugs, who grabbed Sal by his shoulders and forced him onto his knees. Abrasax dialed a number on his phone and gave an instruction. “Do it now,” he said coldly.
Sal began to struggle, his face going white in terror. His body then twisted and writhed as Sal let out a bellow of excruciating agony. “Not Leah!” he screamed, his body falling limply onto the floor.
At this point Tyr knew that the game being played out in front of him was life or death. He didn’t understand any of it but his loyalty to Sal took over. “Leave him alone!” he shouted and tried to lunge forward to drag Sal away but he found himself frozen, paralyzed by a force that held his whole body rigid.
Abrasax ignored him and continued to face Sal with a look of disgust on his face. “You bonded yourself to an Earthani, didn’t you, Sal?” he spat out. “It’s made you lose focus and we cannot tolerate that. We have decided that you are surplus to requirements, as is your family. So pray to Chaos if you still have some belief in the cause,” he continued, his expression changing to one of relish as Sal’s white face turned ashen. “It will do you little good because nothing can save you now.” He nodded to Moloch who stood on Sal’s right. “Finish it.”
With those two words Moloch drew a curved blade from inside his jacket and plunged it deep into Sal’s heart twisting it left and right, as Sal screamed in agony. The blade withdrew, a bloody crimson and Sal’s body crumpled to the floor.
Tyr tried to fight the invisible force that held him immobile but all he could do was watch in horror, his voice frozen in a silent scream. There was a sudden release and his own body fell forward, the barrier gone, momentum dragging him to his knees next to Sal’s limp form.
“You fucking bastard!” Tyr rose up to charge at Abrasax, his stunned horror transforming into intense fury, but Moloch and Dagon wrenched him back, forcing him into the same position they had held Sal.
Abrasax eyed him as if he were an insect. “Be very careful,” he drawled. “Sal was a fool. I do hope you are not. You have a destiny to fulfill and the potential that’s inside of you as yet you cannot comprehend, but it means power and strength. It’s within your grasp. All you have to do is join our cause.”
“I will fucking kill you!” Tyr returned his gaze with ferocious anger, a haze of red blinding his vision.
Abrasax regarded him thoughtfully for a second. “I see you are still in need of some lessons,” he finally said. “Moloch, clean up the blade.”
Bending, he looked Tyr directly in the face grabbing his hair at the same time as he spoke words that were chilling in their intent. “You will tell no one of this or there will be consequences. What were the names of Sal’s girls? No matter, you get the picture I’m sure.” Abrasax finally released Tyr’s head and stood back. “Knock him out, Dagon.” Those were the last words Tyr heard before blackness descended and he awoke to find himself lying over Sal’s dead body, the curved knife in his hand, surrounded by a contingent of law enforcement with guns pointing at his head.
The scene dissolved back to the present and Tyr realized with some clarity that Leah was probably dead too, guessing they had killed her just before killing Sal. That agonizing scream of Sal’s would eat into his soul forever. Sal knew what they had done and it had broken him. Bastards! He would never forgive them. His anger grew hotter, clamoring for vengeance. But Abrasax had Melanie and Delora. He knew that Abrasax would continue to hold them over his head. Tyr was fast losing patience. He wanted answers and he wanted them now.
“Get to the point. We both know you want something from me, so don’t beat around the bush. Tell me what the fuck I really am!”
“I think before I do that, you need to see what I really am.”
As he spoke, Abrasax’s body began mutating in size, expanding until he stood nearly eight feet tall, his blue eyes flashed that yellow color again but this time it didn’t disappear. The clothes he had been wearing fell away as if part of an illusion and Tyr blinked his eyes shut and then open again just to prove to himself that what he was seeing was real.
What the fuck! Tyr wondered briefly if he’d been given some kind of hallucinogen. Abrasax’s skin had now transformed into a scaly gray color and his fingers that had stretched into bony, black claws were developing seriously sharp nails. Tyr stood his ground. He refused to be intimidated by something he did not understand. There had to be some logical explanation—either that or he was headed for the insane asylum!
“Hmmm,” said Abrasax, his voice an arrogant drawl. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by your distinctly unimpressed reaction. You really are a cool customer, Tyr Bellor. Most Earthani are usually hysterical and begging for mercy by now.”
“I guess I’m not most Earthani,” replied Tyr. “Either this is some kind of illusion, or you really are an eight-foot-tall demon with delusions of grandeur and mega strong body odor.” Tyr waved a hand in front of his face. “Seriously man, you need to deal with that.”
A flash of anger crossed Abrasax’s face and Tyr knew he had him rattled. Keep on the offensive. But then he smirked with understanding as if he realized Tyr’s game, suddenly calming and returning quickly to his human form.
“I’ll ignor
e the attempt at humor. I know you Earthani use it to deflect in this kind of situation. But you need to understand a few things about this universe and the position you Earthani occupy in it.”
“So you’re an alien and I’m Earthani? That’s basically a human, right?”
“Yes but you are a special one, Tyr. You have the potential to be so much more. In fact you are what my kind call an Esseni. You have always had the possibility and it is now a reality that you hold within you the essence of War, one of the most potent forces in the universe.”
“And that means what? This just sounds like a load of bull. And what about your kind, what the hell are you? And this reference to the universe, are you saying this is some kind of ET, close encounters moment?”
Abrasax laughed and moved back to his seat. “Questions, questions, questions. You have so many.” His head turned to the monitors and Tyr could see his lips curl into a satisfied grin. “Instead, answer me this.” He motioned Tyr to look at the screens. “What is this female to you?”
Tyr’s heart stuttered in his chest and almost stopped beating. The camera trained on the basement car park showed a large male striding across the lot. The brute’s large hand grasping the creamy, delicate skin of the very woman Tyr’s instinct screamed at him to protect at all costs. He barely knew her, had only spoken with her twice, yet the link between them was a cosmic calling card that Tyr could not deny. She appeared slightly groggy and her small frame stumbled as she was ushered through the entrance. Tyr’s hands tightened into fists, his knuckles whitening in barely contained fury. If they hurt her… Abrasax was regarding him intently. Don’t give anything away.
“Looks like one of my so-called lawyers.” Tyr spoke casually, his tone measured. “What’s she doing here? You need legal advice for something?”
“No, but insurance is always useful,” Abrasax replied. “Wouldn’t you agree?” Somehow Tyr managed to remain impassive, gritting his teeth as Abrasax spoke into a mic on his desk. “Take our lovely guest to the red room.” He turned to face Tyr. “Now I suggest you take a seat and we can discuss some of the answers to your many questions.”
Chapter Ten
Irina stumbled groggily through the open door, having been all but dragged from the car by the inhuman male with scary yellow eyes. Her brain was still cloudy from the drug, her vision blurry and her head felt like a thousand hammers were pounding and executing a tap dance on her optical nerves. As her vision cleared, she realized the door behind her had shut and she had been left alone in an opulent penthouse room, every surface of which was a different shade of red.
The walls, bed, sofa all varied from crimson to scarlet, from maroon to vermillion and shades in between. Someone obviously had a penchant for red. She wondered why, her heart speeding up as a nasty thought intruded—it would certainly be easy to hide any stains. A chill of fear washed over her. Where the hell was she? Who had taken her?
There was a large mirror against one wall and on the opposite side five TV screens flickered with a variety of images but no sound. It was then as her still blurry eyes began to focus, her vision sharpening, that she recognized the figures on the screens. Her heart jumped into her throat, choking her, leaving her gasping for breath. He was here.
Tyr Bellor’s face stared back at her from the screen, black eyes dark and forbidding. Each monitor viewed the scene from different angles. She saw his profile, the hair curling on the nape of his neck, broad shoulders and hands that had touched her, protected her, cradled her. Lifting her hand to skim the glass screen, she dropped her fingers in surprise, realizing that the man with him was Aamon Abrasax. She remembered his visit to the station. What was Tyr doing here with him? Her predicament—slash that—her kidnapping, was this all because of him? Was her presence here a result of her contact with an accused murderer? A sense of confusion and betrayal gnawed at her gut, although why she felt betrayed by this man, a man she really didn’t know, who owed her nothing, she could hardly comprehend. But that connection, no! It had been real. Hadn’t it? She had felt it so strongly. But for her own sanity maybe she ought to let it go. Sever the link. Cut through and slice. But when it came right down to it, she wasn’t sure she could let it go.
Glancing around, Irina searched for a phone, but there was none. She tried the balcony doors. Locked. There was no way out. She had to watch. Reluctantly, she reached for the remote and increased the volume.
* * * * *
Tyr took a seat in Abrasax’s office, his brain busily sifting through the information he had assimilated. He had grasped that he was in an episode of The Twilight Zone, but as his life so far had been a never-ending chaos of weird he could take that in his stride. He didn’t believe in anything except himself, so had no qualms when faced with evidence of other planets and aliens who walk among us. In fact if anything it would explain some of the bizarre experiences he’d had as a child living roughly on the streets, the feeling of being watched, that many of those who ruled over the gangs were not what they appeared to be. Much like the man in front of him.
It was Irina’s presence here, though, that had rocked him more than anything. The urge to keep her safe, protect her, was overwhelming. But that she was here, with Abrasax! That had him conflicted. A battle between his heart and mind kicked off. He suppressed those thoughts by returning to Abrasax’s other assertion. That he was some kind of container for the “essence of war”, whatever the fuck that meant. He grappled with that thought. He knew it meant he was valuable and Abrasax needed him, so, he would deploy delaying tactics with Abrasax while working on his strategy.
“Okay,” he said coolly, leaning back in the chair. “You got me interested. Explain what you want from me.”
“The universe is a big place, Tyr, and everything within it is connected,” began Abrasax. “There are many galaxies, realms, planes of existence, Earth being just one of them and all are linked by threads, tenuous connections of matter and energy. You probably understand this as atoms and particles such as explained in your rather primitive Earthani quantum physics. But there is much more to it than that. There are magicks and energies beyond Earthani comprehension and since the beginning of time those energies have been in constant conflict, two opposing sides battling for domination. You enjoy being on the winning side, don’t you?” Abrasax took a moment to let that sink in as he eyed Tyr with a measuring glance. “You must do. You are War. To conquer is innate in you. You are competitive in the extreme. The essence of war permeates every atom of your being.” He stopped, searching Tyr for a reaction. Tyr gave him none. “Does this sound familiar?” he asked.
“What if it does? What does being the essence of war mean exactly?” countered Tyr, needing precise information.
“My people,” Abrasax continued, “collect those essences, such as you contain, to ensure that we have dominance over the other side. This conflict has been fought for millennia and Esseni such as you hold the key to unleashing untold power. You can help us to be victorious, to win not just one battle or skirmish but the entire war. With you we can annihilate our enemy.”
“Who are your people and why are they different from the other side?” asked Tyr curiously.
“My people are the ones you don’t want to fuck with. You respect strength, you exist to win and we Discordants are the same. We are your people. We can help you to realize the potential that resides inside you. To become what you were born to be. You will be a god amongst men. Look around you. All this and more can belong to you.” Abrasax’s eyes flashed intensely, the yellow glow pulsing with barely contained enthusiasm.
“What do I have to do for all this?” Tyr supposed he ought to sound interested.
“Just fight for us. Use your power and essence to crush the Eunomi Alliance. They are the other side in this conflict. They are weak and want to steal power from us. They will do anything to convince you to their side, play on your weaknesses, your fears. But they don’t understand you like I do. You have no weaknesses. You are ruthless. You live to do
minate. Conflict feeds your soul. You have darkness within you that consumes everything. You were born for this. You are War.”
Tyr’s head was spinning, overloaded with this new information. Aliens, other planets, some ancient cosmic battle going on that he was an essential part of! What the fuck? If science fiction had taught him anything, it was that this usually entailed a battle between good and evil. But which side was good and which side was evil? It could be that both sides were corrupt and that one was a lesser evil than the other. And he was War? What the hell did that mean? Deflecting that assertion, his thoughts returned to Sal and his family. One thing was for sure—he could not forgive Abrasax for killing Sal, but that wouldn’t stop him from using Abrasax to glean information.
“What about Sal? Why did you kill him? Was he a Discordant like you?”
“Sal had begun to distort aspects of our mission. His mind was corrupted and he was weak.”
Abrasax paused before continuing. “You do not want to be weak Tyr.”
“His family, where are they?”
“Let’s just say they are safe for now and they will continue to be whilst I have your loyalty. The female lawyer also is in safe hands for the moment.”
“She means nothing to me, Abrasax. Do whatever you like with her.” Play it cool. Call his bluff.
Tyr understood the insinuation. He had no choice but to go along with Abrasax, even though most of what he had said was confusing as hell. But he understood three things: There was a fight going on, Abrasax wanted him in their corner, and if he didn’t agree, Sal’s girls and Irina would suffer.
So feign surrender and play dumb while keeping options open. Time to box cleverly. “I always play to win. You know that, but I don’t give my loyalty to just anyone. You need to earn it.”