Venom of the Gods

by Sebastian Chase

  "Not just that. The White House was attacked."

  "What?"

  "A man flew in the window, just like in Russia, killing several Secret Service agents and Marines. I heard that bullets just bounced off him!"

  "The president?"

  "She's safe. Moved when the crisis first started in Russia. You'll meet her soon."

  Samael had brought the attack home. I knew that if I didn't find him fast, he would take many more lives, possibly the lives of everyone on Earth. The Blackhawk veered sharply east, cruising fast to our destination while the two soldiers stared at me. Inside, I prayed to a phantom creator twisted enough to allow a creature such as I to exist. I prayed with grim resolve that I once again would have the strength to serve as the sword of humanity.

  Chapter 21

  "Prepare to land," the pilot yelled back. Right after he warned us, the helicopter started to lose altitude rapidly. Lori grabbed my hand firmly in fear, a queasy look in her eyes.

  "It's okay," I reassured her.

  "We're going to hit the ground!" she blurted.

  "Don't worry," the soldier next to me said. "These guys are trained to get out of the sky quick in case someone is shooting at them. He's also probably showing off a little."

  Through the opening to the cockpit, I made out a tarmac rushing towards us, and wondered if perhaps Lori was right. I tensed, prepared to pull my daughter out of the falling machine, but then the nose violently pulled up. Our forward momentum strained us against the harnesses as the Blackhawk came to a hover and then gently touched down. The whine of the engine slowed, and outside the small windows, the individual rotor blades became visible as they slowed. Huddled just beyond reach of the blades, I saw a crew standing by to get the top-secret aircraft into a hangar fast.

  While the soldiers helped us out of the harnesses, the side door slid open, and a man looking fresh out of puberty peered in. "Everyone okay? That was one hell of a landing," he said.

  "They're fine, Petty Officer," the pilot said, approaching us from the cockpit. He stuck out his hand. "Captain Thomas, commanding officer of the Naval Special Warfare Group Two. Welcome to Little Creek."

  "Thank you, Captain." I accepted his handshake.

  "We're on a tight schedule. The president is already prepped to meet with you. I just wanted to take this opportunity to ask you one thing."

  "What is it?"

  "Are you with us or not? I've heard conflicting reports." He stared into my eyes as if he had his own built-in lie detector.

  "Sir, I am with you until the end." I wrapped my arm around Lori, worried she would become overwhelmed. He grunted and displayed a half smile.

  "I've got a daughter myself," he said. "She's the reason I chose to fight for my country. I hope you consider the United States your country. Follow me." While wondering what the man was insinuating, I helped Lori out, and then followed.

  We walked through large hangar doors and into a brightly lit open space bustling with activity. Soldiers worked on intricate looking machinery, pushed carts of spare parts and ammunitions, greased fittings, and tightened bolts on the aircraft in the hangar. Two helicopters similar to the one we arrived in sat on one side, while on the other was a plane that appeared to be a scaled down F-22 Raptor, minus any signs of a cockpit. As the men and women worked, they chatted, but the second we stepped in, silence settled over them.

  "What's that?" I asked Captain Thomas, pointing to the strange looking plane, while several soldiers paused in their work and eyed us warily.

  "XF-24. A drone fighter. That baby can shoot down a canary twenty miles out." He led us to a set of double doors off to the side and held one open. "After you."

  We stepped into a break area that served the aircrew. Several vending machines lined the wall, numerous empty tables filled the room, and there was a comfortable looking lounge area off to the side, empty as well. I noticed that the television was off, which struck me as odd. In all my years of factory work, the television stayed on at all times as workers meandered in and out of the break room.

  "Captain, I was hoping to see Karen Weiss and Agent Blackwell. Where are they?" Really, just Karen was on my wish list.

  "I understand, but first the president wants a brief on what you know."

  "I can't even say hi to them? I'd like for my daughter to be with someone I trust."

  "You can trust us. I'll take your daughter to Ms. Weiss. She was deep in research in the computer lab last I heard. Agent Blackwell, I'm afraid, is no longer here. He had to return to his duties." Something did not feel right, but I dismissed it. After the past few days, nothing felt right.

  "Okay," I conceded.

  "Ms. Spencer, please wait here and I'll come get you after I take your dad to the president. Do you need some cash to get a snack?"

  "I'm fine," she said, and then turned to me. "Wow, from eating steak off the floor to meeting the president. You've come a long ways." She smiled and I took her into my arms.

  "Tell Karen I'll be there shortly. Be good."

  "Always." I released her and reluctantly followed the captain.

  We entered a long hallway with offices on each side. The hall branched off several times, and I realized the place was bigger than I had thought. Occasionally we passed a roving security patrol, but other than that, it was deserted. We took a final turn and came to a wooden door, which the captain opened. Behind it was a small room filled with computers, between which a bank-vault-type door was stuffed.

  "This is a secure bunker," he said, placing his right hand on a scanner. A green glow slid down his palm, followed by a low beep. He entered a code into a keypad and I heard the sound of heavy steel sliding. The door popped slightly open with a hiss. Grabbing the handle firmly, he pulled it fully open.

  The room beyond appeared to be designed after a corporate boardroom, with a large table, plush leather chairs, and a flat screen television hanging on the far wall. The TV was on and displayed the image of either this room, or another one exactly like it.

  "Where's the president?" I asked.

  "Right here." The voice came from inside the bunker. I focused on the TV, where a woman was taking a seat in front of a camera. It took me a moment to realize that it was the commander-in-chief. She looked exhausted with dark circles under her eyes and a grim expression on her face, still though, her voice was strong and commanded attention. "Mr. Spencer, please take a seat. I need to know what you know about the current situation."

  "Certainly, Madam President," I said, stepping into the room.

  "I'll go take your daughter to Ms. Weiss and give you some privacy," Captain Thomas said. He started to close the reinforced steel door.

  "Captain, could you leave that open please?" I asked.

  "Absolutely," he replied, after a quick glance towards the woman on the television. "I'll just shut the outer door so the security guys can't eavesdrop."

  "Thanks." I walked deeper into the bunker and found a seat at the head of the long table where a pitcher of ice water and a glass waited. Useless to me. I heard the small outside door shut.

  "Mr. Spencer," the president began. "We are trying to come to grips with a new enemy. This enemy destroyed the Kremlin, murdering Vladimir Putin and several of his inner circle in the process. They are consolidating Russian military power as we speak, and the world seems helpless to stop it. The leader of this movement attacked the White House earlier and there was just one survivor. This survivor claimed bullets bounced off a creature that was able to fly, had eyes of blood, and sharp fangs that dripped. We believe the creature allowed this one survivor so that he could deliver a message. The message was that surrender is our only option. The FBI informed me that you might have some insights that could help. Please, share."

  "Well, the creature's name is Samael, and he is not human."

  "I gathered that. An extraterrestrial?"

  "Basically, yes. His true form is pure, dark energy. The body you see him flying around in, well, that's similar to a spacesuit…a
very powerful spacesuit."

  "Are you getting this?" the president asked someone off screen. She turned back to me. "What will destroy this spacesuit?"

  "Nothing you have can harm him." My blunt statement sent her into pondering silence. "But, he has developed something that can harm me, which means it would most likely harm him as well. If we could get hold of it, I think you would have a viable defense."

  "What is this substance?" she asked, leaning forward.

  "It appears to be a modified form of the Ebola virus, capable of penetrating our bodies and rupturing cells."

  "Wonderful!" she said sarcastically. "Not only do we have to contend with demented aliens, but now aliens bent on germ warfare, too! I'm so glad your kind chose Earth to fuck up, Mr. Spencer." Hearing the president speak such language was disconcerting. She took a sip of water, recovering her composure. "It may be impossible to relieve this Samael of his virus. Do you think we could develop it ourselves?"

  "I don't think so. The technology to merge matter from this dimension with matter from ours is thousands of years away at least. My kind had such means, and it appears that Samael has revived the science." I paused, remembrance dawning on me. "There is a vial of it though. Either Karen…Dr. Weiss, brought it with her or it's still at her lab." The president pressed a button cutting off her microphone and then whispered into the ear of a young female assistant that appeared on screen.

  "I apologize," she said, returning her attention to me. "I sent a message to check with Dr. Weiss on the location of the vial."

  "One problem though. The virus has a twenty-four-hour lifespan. You might be able to salvage something from it, but I doubt there will be enough to kill him."

  "What would you suggest then, Mr. Spencer? That we just sit here like pigs waiting for slaughter?"

  "I can take care of him, and I don't need a virus to do so. I just need to know where he is." I heard someone enter behind me. I turned and saw Captain Thomas come in. He gave me a small wave, trying not to disturb, and indicated that he would stay in the computer area just outside the vault.

  "Mr. Spencer, can you do me a favor?" the president asked.

  "Certainly."

  "Good." A strange sound caught my ear, causing me to look back in time to see the vault door shut. "Can you stay there while we figure this out?" she finished.

  "You were planning this all along?" I looked at her in disbelief.

  "I cannot afford to have two unknowns flying around wreaking havoc. Agent Richards told me you destroyed property at Dr. Weiss' employer while evading capture, accosted some teen boys, were incarcerated on suspicion of murder, and then escaped prison. And, shortly after you escaped prison, someone attacked the White House. How do I know you were not involved? Hell, it could have been you. You don't have a record I can trust, Mr. Spencer."

  "Agent Richards is on his payroll."

  "What?"

  "Samael has a lot of people working for him, not only in your government, but around the world. Madam President, I am the only one who can stop him. Through the ages, he has been called Satan, Hades, Loki. In Hebrew, Samael means venom of God. Ma'am, with all due respect, you are not equipped to face a power like this."

  "And you are?"

  "Yes. Before we came to Earth, I was his senior. In our natural form, I am a man. He is but a boy. A petulant boy at that."

  "Give us a minute." The president pressed the button once again, and then appeared to confer with people I couldn't see.

  Inside, I raged at their ignorance. Humanity was at a brink, a brink prophesized by countless seers and biblical passages, and their only means of salvation they wanted locked away. In many of the prophecies, it was stated that the outcome would be determined by the choices humans made. I sat and watched the choice being made on the television in front of me, once again catapulted to the crux of history. Finally, the president refocused on me and pressed the button.

  "Mr. Spencer, I'm sorry but my advisors say the risk of both of you on the loose is too great. We feel the military might of the United States is our best option." My jaw dropped, but my resolve deepened.

  "With all due respect, Madam President, I feel differently." I stood and walked towards the vault door.

  "Mr. Spencer!" the president cried out, but I didn't stop. I reached for the thick steel bar securing the door, knowing that humans had forgotten the power of the gods. They were about to be reintroduced. I pushed and heard the president gasp behind me.

  Chapter 22

  The bunker's fortified door wasn't a problem, but the twenty or so soldiers aiming their guns at me just outside the little room was a concern. I didn't want to hurt them, but when the very existence of civilization was on the line, I knew that I may not have a choice. I recognized several of them from the hangar when we first entered, and realized the scene of them working late into the night had been a ploy to put me at ease. SEALs are good. The only thing they missed was not their fault—they were incapable of comprehending my power.

  "Return to the bunker!" Captain Thomas yelled at me. Surrounded protectively by troops, he stood at the rear of the small army, in the intersection of an adjacent hallway.

  "Mr. Spencer, stop!" the president demanded from behind me.

  My first goal was to find out where Lori and Karen were, and second, I would have to feed soon to maintain strength. I could no longer afford to be picky.

  I stood for a fraction of second in the doorway, surveying the scene, and then moved fast. I rushed forward, becoming a blur as I tested the limits of their human vision. My arms knocked soldiers to the side before they could react. I worked through the group, and if witnessed from above, I imagine it would look like an invisible wind drilling a path through a cornfield.

  My claws dug into the throat of Captain Thomas and I pulled him up into the air, over the heads of his confused troops, and landed in a deserted section of hallway twenty feet back. They would not shoot as long as I held their leader. I buried my fangs into his neck and drank deep, but stopped before taking too much. I also needed information.

  "Where are Dr. Weiss and my daughter?" I asked. His eyes rolled around and he smiled. There is some truth to the legend of vampires being able to manipulate humans, but it doesn't work through the eyes, instead the venom makes them weak-willed.

  "The classroom," he said. His knees buckled, but I held him up.

  "What classroom? Where is it?" The soldiers approached, and I felt sure they were hoping for a clean shot at my head, not that it would matter to me, but the ricochet could matter to them. "Stay back!" I warned.

  "The classroom...by the vendeteria."

  "Vendeteria? Do you mean the break room we entered through?"

  "Yeah." I dropped him to the floor and shot down the hall, rapidly leaving the soldiers behind. The pop of gunfire erupted, but they had reacted too slowly. I was already gone.

  Retracing the route we had taken, I identified the classroom by the soldier standing guard at its door. Before he could cry out, I was upon him, my venom coursing through his blood. Again I fed, but scrupulously so. I required energy, but had no desire to kill these accomplished soldiers. Perhaps not feeding fully would be my downfall, as Ricka had warned me, but compromising my principles would make me just as evil as Samael—a thought that disgusted me.

  I laid the soldier to the side and listened through the door. Inside, I recognized the voices of Lori and Karen talking in hushed whispers. I also heard boots softly hitting the floor, along with the sound of gear moving as a soldier walked. I determined that since the women were talking, the guard inside wouldn't be standing directly over them with his gun in their faces. Then I heard his radio blare out that I had escaped. With urgency, I roared through the door.

  Karen looked up, eyes wide, while Lori let out a cry of shock. The guard, in the process of reaching for his radio, was unprepared for my attack. He stood against the far wall, ten feet away from where they sat at a table. I flew up and over the furnishings, seeing Karen and Lori's
eyes follow me across the ceiling, and crashed into the man with a ferocious impact. He crumpled into a ball, his neck exposed. I considered shooting a drop of venom into him, but he appeared to be unconscious, so I left it at that.

  "We have to get out of here fast!" I exclaimed, jumping up and approaching them. "There's an army on my heels!"

  "Where to?" Lori asked.

  "The hangar," I replied.

  "Wait. We have to get something," Karen said.

  "We don't have time!"

  "But, before you got here, they were nice and showed me things. We have to."

  "They were nice so they could trap us. If you want to live, follow me!" Not waiting for a reply, I grabbed my daughter's hand, and pulled her out of the room. Glancing over my shoulder, I was glad to see Karen following. We went through the nearby door that led into the break room, where I spied a soda machine and had an idea.

  "Hold on," I said. I walked to the side of the machine and pushed it. Retaining bolts snapped and it tipped over, shattering the plastic front panel, which allowed several bottles to fall out and roll across the floor. I slid the bulky machine in front of the door. "That should buy us some time. Let's go!"

  We ran into the hangar, deserted now, but I knew we only had minutes, if not seconds, before they swarmed in.

  "Let's take a helicopter!" Lori exclaimed.

  "Can you fly it?" I asked. "Because I can't."

  "Ten-thousand years old and you can't fly a helicopter?" Her sarcasm was thick, but I ignored it. I could fly without machines, so never bothered with the human contraptions. A Humvee sitting just inside the hangar door provided a good alternative to the Blackhawks. Dragging Lori along, I raced for the vehicle. As we ran, I picked up the sounds of soldiers yelling and banging on the break room door, the fallen soda machine slowing them down. We made it to the Humvee and I pulled the door open.

  "Get in," I went to push Lori up into the large four-wheel-drive vehicle.

  "What about Karen?"

  "What do you mean?" I looked behind me. There was no sight of her. "Damn it!" A small door, not far from the break room entrance, caught my attention. Flung open recently, it still swayed on its hinges.