“You are aware that you are heavily disadvantaged, right?” the leader said. “And I am not speaking of numbers.”
As much as he hated to admit it, Yochanan knew this creature was right. His ego was badly bruised, but wisdom got the better of him.
“We will meet again, creature!” Yochanan promised and disappeared from their sight.
The leader kept a poker face and returned his attention to his subjects.
“The hour has finally come, my people!” Maduk spoke out loud. “It is time to take back, Earth Realm, our inheritance!” And the Sinisters chanted their agreement.
***
“You are a hard man to find,” The Scribe said, casually taking a seat next to a man at a local bar in Rio de Janeiro.
The man took a sip from his mojito and kept staring blankly ahead. The Scribe signaled to the bartender, a young lady barely in her twenties and asked for a double. She flashed a radiant smile and obliged. The man took another sip of his drink and ignored The Scribe’s request for a toast.
“What do you want?” the man finally asked, making it a point to be as rude as possible.
“Let me show you what I want,” The Scribe said and placed his left index finger on the man’s forehead.
In a flash, the man witnessed the obliteration of the Bright Eyes. When The Scribe retrieved his finger, he was very pleased with what he saw. The man was a seething mass of fury. The glass of mojito in the man’s hand shattered into tiny pieces. Nearby customers and waiters were startled by the sudden noise and The Scribe spoke in Portuguese, letting everyone know that everything was alright.
“Would you like to meet the man who stole your soul and slaughtered your children?” The Scribe asked, summoning a fifty-dollar bill and placing it on the counter for their tab and the broken glass.
“He’s a dead man walking!” Marlo spat.
His eyes flashed from pale blue, to bright red and then back to pale blue as he stood up and headed for the door.
***
“Maduk is here!” Yoch said, slamming his palm on the table. “Damn my pride! I didn’t account for two hundred!”
“You did well, brother,” Shi’mon tried to reassure Yoch but failed.
“You were smart enough to leave the area, though,” Yehuda added. “This is Maduk we are talking about, you know.”
“We will get him, brother,” Andrew interjected, tapping Yoch on the shoulder. “Together! As a team!”
Yoch nodded, grateful for their support.
And then, Yochanan looked up and grinned suddenly.
“I take it I don’t have to babysit you two anymore?” he asked, shifting his gaze between Shi’mon and Yehuda.
The two men looked at each other for a moment and nodded slightly.
“We’re good!” Shi’mon replied and Yehuda nodded.
“Good!” Yochanan said. “Guess I’ll have to return these diapers then, but I don’t have a receipt. It’s been two thousand years, you know.”
Sasha laughed the loudest. No one was sure why she thought Yochanan’s words were so funny. Andrew wanted to say there was no such thing as diapers two thousand years ago, but he decided to just let it be. He understood what Yoch was trying to say.
“So,” Shi’mon said with a sigh. “We eradicate the Bright Eyes, and Maduk shows up!”
“No rest for us!” Yehuda joined in. “Speaking of rest, you need an upgrade, Yoch!”
“And how are ‘rest’ and ‘upgrade’ even related?” Sasha asked, and everyone laughed.
“But seriously,” Shi’mon said. “You do need an-”
He stopped in the middle of his sentence. He raised his left hand to his face. The green crystal on his ring was pulsating with green light. He looked at his brothers, and they all had the same look of shock and most of all… fear… on their faces!
“Wh-what’s going on?” Sasha stammered.
The men had faced dangers a-plenty before, including The Twins; twice. There had never been any shred of fear on their faces then. But now… It was the first time she had seen any of the men so petrified with fear. The men looked at one another. Their vocal cords seemed to have lost their functions, until Shi’mon spoke.
“He’s been set free!” Shi’mon replied and swallowed. “Someone or something has let him out!”
“Who has been set free?” Sasha asked as she herself was infected by the fear that radiated from the three apprentices.
***
The chopper flew at a low altitude over a part of the Grand Canyon that was inaccessible to tourists and hikers. It carried an eight-man crew consisting of two pilots, three former marines in full commando gear, two priests from the Cult of The Morning Star, and Brandon Pitts, owner of Pitts Solar Company and self-made billionaire. The Cult of The Morning Star subscribed wholly to the entity called evil. Brandon held an unconventional compass in his hand. It was a circular piece of gray marble, about six inches in diameter, with only one needle rotating on an entirely black surface. The needle tilted slightly to the left, and he instructed the pilot to change their course. After another minute or so of flight, the needle began spinning wildly, and Brandon ordered the pilot to look for landing immediately.
Four minutes later, everyone, but the pilots, was out of the chopper. The billionaire scanned their surroundings. He would appreciate this world wonder later. Suddenly, the alien compass yanked his hand towards the right, and he ordered everyone to follow him. After half a mile of hiking, they arrived at a clearing. A Native American sat on a slab of rock, dressed in full traditional regalia, holding a spear with both hands. The Native American stared straight ahead. Had it not been for the slow heaving of his chest and occasional blinking of his eyes, he could have passed for a perfect statue.
“The Guardian!” the billionaire exclaimed. “He who neither eats nor sleeps! He whose sole purpose is to guard the most notorious prisoner in the Earth Realm!” he added with excitement and fascination.
He turned to his entourage.
“You! Wait here!” he pointed at one of the mercenaries. “The rest of you, follow me!”
They did as ordered. When they were about twelve feet from the Native American, they heard the Native American speak, but no words came out of his lips.
“Come no further, trespassers!” he said. “For your sakes, I admonish you!”
The former marines were confused and afraid, but they masked their sentiments. Their military gut was telling them that something was gravely amiss
“I’ve spent a lot of time and money to just walk away now, Guardian!” the billionaire replied out loud.
“Then may the curse of the condemned remain upon you and your descendants down to the fourth generation,” the Guardian said, without forming words on his lips.
The bodies of the former marines started rotting very rapidly from inside out and unimaginable pain coursed through their bodies. They screamed and rolled on the ground, begging for mercy, but none came. The decomposition was so rapid that in less than fourteen seconds, there was nothing left of them but bone and hair. The billionaire and the priests were unaffected, however. Brandon pulled a revolver from his belt and leveled it at the Guardian’s head.
“Your petty sorcery has no effect on me!” he said.
“Then may the heavens have mercy on your souls,” the Guardian replied fearlessly.
Brandon fired. The remaining former marine witnessed everything that had just happened and attempted to flee to the chopper. A priest raised his right hand and pointed a finger towards the former marine. Instantly, the former-marine-turned-mercenary levitated into the air and let out a gut-wrenching scream right before imploding in mid-air. Flesh, blood and guts were scattered all over the area. The message to the pilots was very clear. Brandon and the two priests continued towards the clearing. The Guardian lay on his side; there was a single trickle of blood tracking from a hole between his eyes down the side of his forehead. Brandon stood behind the priests as they opened what looked like an ancient manuscri
pt made of human flesh, with its words written in human blood. They flipped to a page that had the drawing of a winged creature, with flames spewing from its eyes and mouth, and began some incantations in an ancient language.
A storm started brewing in the valley and the perfectly bright afternoon turned as black as night. Lightning flashed, and thunder roared as the priests continued with their incantations. The clearing fazed in and out repeatedly until it disappeared entirely to reveal an almost perfectly spherical boulder that was thirteen feet in diameter. But this was no ordinary boulder! This was a prison for a powerful entity from another dimension! An entrance appeared as the priests continued chanting, and a scream of rage emanated from the boulder.
One of the priests stopped incanting and removed his black, hooded robe, while the other priest continued. Thick, black smoke spewed forth from inside the prison and into the air. The billionaire smiled and rejoiced as the winds picked up speed and the storms raged on even more ferociously. Then the smoke converged to a human form, and golden light carved out a human silhouette with wings that spread out from its scapulae. It approached the naked priest. The naked priest closed his eyes and opened his arms as the silhouette of smoke and golden light merged with him, erasing the priest’s essence and taking total possession of the priest’s form.
“Behold, Luceefa’s right hand!” Brandon exclaimed. “Behold, the King of Demons!”
There were more flashes of lightning, roars of thunder and increased storm activity. The possessed priest, who was now the vessel of the most powerful demon, turned around to face the other priest and the billionaire. Its eyes were a pair of fiery yellowish, red orbs, with sparks flying from them as if they were infused with electricity. Suddenly, yellow flames burst outwards from his eyes, ears and mouth as the demon let out a blend of a scream of rage and a joyous cry of liberation. Finally! After too many cycles to count, it was free! Finally! After too many cycles to count, it was going to fulfill its dream: Earth Realm, and everything in it, was going to be eradicated!
The priest and the billionaire prostrated themselves in front of their master, and chanted, repeatedly!
“ALL HAIL, BEELZEBUB!”
AUTHOR NOTE AND CONTACT INFORMATION
Thank you very much for reading The Bright Eyes, Book One of The Soulless Ones. I hope you enjoyed reading it.
Like and follow my Facebook Page and e-mail here. I would love to hear from you.
Please also take a moment to read a sample of Book Two of The Soulless Ones, titled An Archangel’s Ache. Enjoy!
BOOK TWO: AN ARCHANGEL’S ACHE
Kazuk sat on his throne. Yes, it was HIS throne. It had been a few cycles since he had assumed the role as the King of the Realm of Hell, and The Scribe better not keep the King of Hell waiting. Kazuk was growing more and more impatient with every passing moment. But his impatience was a mere substitute for his feeling of inadequacy vis-à-vis The Scribe. Yes, there was absolutely nothing he could do to this being. Kazuk clenched his jaws in frustration. He decided to focus more on the things he could control, like his realm. Yes! Hell was his realm and under the mantle of his leadership, there had been many changes.
Kazuk was not the original leader of this cesspool of a realm. The Realm of Hell was an uninhabited realm in Celestia’s vicinity. But after the Great Rebellion in Celestia, those who had risen against Michael and his host had been defeated, and the defeated had been banished to Hell. But their banishment had left them without their leader and her next-in-command, Zukael, who now went by Beelzebub, as these two were imprisoned in other dimensions that were known to Michael alone. As such, the leadership role for the fallen was vacant. But even Malichiel, now Metatron, the master strategist of the rebellion, did not care to assume that role. Kazuk had decided to seize the opportunity, and he was not the only one who coveted the role.
And so, the battle had raged on. Being an underdog and master strategist, Kazuk had blended sharp wit and supreme skills with the sword in a game of smarts and brute strength. Twenty sought the throne and thirteen fell within a snap of the finger. It was down to seven, and while Kazuk had entertained his six opponents in a dance of more death and damnation, he chose to exhibit a public display of his strength and skill for all in Hell Realm to see. When he was tired of toying with his prey, the predator that was and is Kazuk beheaded every single one of his opponents with swiftness and savvy.
He let the angel light streaming from the severed heads of his adversaries bathe his feet as he picked up the heads one-by-one. Hell Realm watched in fear as he walked in slow, calculated steps towards the empty throne, with three severed heads in each hand. The unspoken message was loud and clear. It was one of total dominion and zero tolerance for any form of opposition. It was a promise of strength and leadership like Hell Realm had never seen before. It was an affirmation of the hope of returning to Celestia, with or without their former leader, Luceefa. It was a wordless speech heralding the dawn of a new cycle for Hell Realm and its inhabitants.
Kazuk turned around and faced his new kingdom. His eyes slowly swept across the realm as a deathly silence washed over Hell Realm. Seemingly satisfied, he raised the heads of his slain victims in the air and let them fall on the stairs. The heads rolled down the stairs and ended at the feet of some terrified creatures. Kazuk then rested both hands on the smooth, marble-like armrests of the throne and lowered his body, mired in the angel light of his slain opponents, into the throne. His bride manifested from thin air by his side, walked down a few steps in front of Kazuk and faced the Realm of Hell.
“Creatures of Hell Realm!” she spoke out loud in the sonic frequency of Hell Realm so that every creature from every corner of the realm could hear her. “Behold Kazuk, your new leader! Your new King!”
Fire and heat blazed. Ice and cold froze. Hounds of Hell howled, dropped on all fours and buried their snouts in their paws. Pain, suffering, pestilence, and all things evil echoed. Lost and fallen creatures cowered and shivered. Demons dropped on their knees and lowered their heads. Trumpets sounded and Hell itself was rocked as if in a hell-quake. And all of Hell chanted:
“ALL HAIL, KAZUK! ALL HAIL THE KING!”
Kazuk then reached for his wife. She accepted his hand and sat across his lap. Lithilia kissed the King of Hell on the lips, passionately and Hell Realm erupted in praise.
The Bright Eyes (The Soulless Ones Book 1) Page 33