The Mark of Chaos

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The Mark of Chaos Page 29

by Susan D. Kalior


  “Sh.” He shook his head, calming me with his whirling eyes while shedding his soiled and damaged clothes. His cinnamon body radiated masculine charisma. Breezes blew tendrils of his hair that glowed in the sunlight. My heart fluttered. Still, I didn’t want others to witness our lovemaking.

  He squinted his eyes. “Let them watch. Let them turn hot with envy.”

  He took my hand and led me into the pool of icy knee-deep water. Silt squished between my toes. The sensation was nice. He guided us down to our knees. Water flowed past my waist and eddied around his hips. He leaned into me, forcing me onto my back against the bank. My legs pressed against his muscled thighs. I was submerged in water, all but my head. He drew me back up to my knees. Cool water slipped down my skin.

  A blue bar of soap appeared in his hands. He pressed his shimmering chest against mine and rubbed the soap smoothly over my back.

  I glanced nervously about the expansive meadow, spying for intruders. “Can you make us clean magically?”

  “This is more fun.”

  “I agree, but—”

  “Sh—”

  I desired this joy with johnny, but found it challenging to relax knowing Tazmark eyes might be upon us. He brought the soap up around my shoulder and slid it over my breasts, here, there, and all around, as an ice skater dancing in the rink, enlivening each part he touched.

  His rich voice excited me. “This body is quite lovely. There is nothing it needs to be. It can’t fall short, for it houses you.”

  My prince, I thought. He didn’t sound evil.

  When the top of me was lathered, he made me stand, lathering the bottom part of me sensuously, heightening my desire for him. He slid his hands over my hips and pulled me down. Lather floated off my body into the water. Something snaky slithered around inside me. Pangs of want flared all over my body. I needed to let go and not care if others watched, but the good little religious girl in me surfaced again. I needed an excuse to end my glorious bath before it led to something more.

  “What about the fish?” I asked, breathing hard, “Won’t they choke on these bubbles?”

  “Biodegradable,” he said with a dreamy voice.

  He guided me down on my back, leaning the top of my head under a tiny waterfall. He manifested a handful of red shampoo and lathered my hair. Then he rinsed away the oil and sweat of my suffering. He drew my face under the fall. I held my breath. Cool heaven.

  He drew me up to watch him bathe. My crucifix glimmered on his neck. He mesmerized me as he washed every part of his body. The woman in me stomped on the good little religious girl, for I no longer cared who watched. I sprung upon him; his back splashed down into the water. I took him as I had once before, as I wanted to forevermore.

  Then he pulled me up on the bank and took me with unrivaled intensity.

  Afterwards, under the hot sun, he lay gently atop me. He raised his head looking down upon my face affectionately, his damp black hair stunning against the bright blue sky.

  I blurted, “I love you, johnny.”

  He dipped his forehead to my chest, a grateful sort of gesture.

  I stroked his head. He lifted it and spoke. “How could this be that I feel for you what I do? When I took you under my wing, I never fathomed this. I never wanted this. I wanted you to love me, but I didn’t want to love you back. I now know what it feels like to be seduced, to burn, to suffer.”

  “Oh johnny, I hope it’s not that bad.”

  “Bad—is feeling nothing, not caring, taking, destroying, killing, day after day for centuries. No challenge. No goal. You’ve given me what’s been missing. You feel everything. You care for the world. Your heart is for everyone,” he brushed his hand down my arm, “and you give your body with a passionate purity that I have never before known. I’m challenged to champion you without making you my victim. You give me the goal to help you actualize your fullest potential through the course of your earth days.” His eyes softened. “You give me life.”

  I smiled faintly, pleased that I could affect someone so greatly, even if he was only part human.

  The sun beamed brightly in the cloudy blue sky. Mid-afternoon, I surmised. johnny helped me stand. He waved his hand over me. Clothes appeared on my body. He’d cloaked me in black, like something out of a fashion magazine: soft form fitting long-sleeved top, jeans, thick socks, and leather boots. Then he said, “Pulsus veneficus ventus pulsus,” and a conjured wind blew my hair dry abnormally quick, and it even felt combed. The words sounded Latin.

  I smiled. “I didn’t know you could do all this! Although, I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve been holding out on me.”

  “You don’t know the three quarters of it,” he said.

  I scowled, because I knew I would soon find out.

  His eyes closed for a moment, and he became magnificently clothed in a white billowy shirt, black vest, tight black pants, and calf-length boots. He then said, “Pulsus veneficus ventus pulsus,” and a conjured wind blew his long black hair dry quickly and it looked neatly-combed. The sight of him wiped away my scowl. I embraced him. “The Three Musketeers. You dressed like this for me.”

  He returned the embrace. “Pour vous ma chérie, seulement pour vous.”

  He’d said in French, For you my dear, only for you.

  I smiled at him, broadly and freely, feeling much, much love. I gulped softly. “I hope we survive tonight.”

  “We will.” He gazed upon our old clothes; they disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  I gazed at the empty space where our clothes had been. No matter how much I witnessed his magic, his abilities ever amazed me.

  “You will see more tonight,” he said.

  Just how much more would I see? I couldn’t fathom. I didn’t want to fathom. I looked up to the sky, wishing I could fly up to the puffy white clouds and hide. Fear had taken me again. A tear slid from my eye.

  He took my head in his heads.

  I whimpered, “I’m terrified, johnny.”

  His face grew rigid, his eyes serious. “Even so, you must shine your light without yielding to the cries of pain from your target. You must shine it until your target fades completely.”

  His hands dropped from my face. His intense expression lingered.

  “I . . . I . . . can make someone . . . disappear?”

  He nodded.

  “But they will suffer . . . right?”

  He nodded again.

  Cries of pain. Somehow, I’d avoided thinking about that. My legs weakened. Acid gurgled in my stomach. I closed my eyes, delving deep inside myself. I gathered tenacity the way one would flowers. When I opened my eyes, I sighed, feeling a little more durable for the rough and tough games to come. Visualization, I was good at that.

  “That’s it, Jen. Build your confidence. Don’t tear it down, no matter what else I tell you.”

  “What else have you to tell me?”

  “Tonight’s episodes will be more than you can imagine.”

  I winced. Courage now. Courage. “Like what, johnny?”

  “War is foreign to you, but on my planet of origin, Dragons fly daily to other worlds causing destruction. On earth, lightning storms, earthquakes, forest fires—these are often incited by Dragons entering the atmosphere. They can’t be seen, but they are there.”

  So far, so good. I wasn’t running or hiding. My chest was a little tight though.

  I sighed. “Go on.”

  “The same results can occur when Tazmarks fight each other. I don’t want you to be too shocked.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “You will witness those kinds of disasters tonight.”

  I hugged my stomach. “You mean, like the fire you started,” I lowered my eyes, “you know, that awful night at my house.”

  “Far worse, kind of like—Star Wars.”

  My tenacity was fading. In an effort to both deny and accept the picture he’d painted in my mind, I grabbed my head as if to keep me steady. “You’re talking science fiction.” My arms slid down hug
ging my stomach; I shook my head a few seconds more. When my head quit shaking, my words fell like unripe fruit yanked off a tree. “I’m . . . not ready . . . for science fiction, johnny. I’m just not.”

  “Science fiction is merely undiscovered reality.”

  “I’m not ready for undiscovered reality. I can’t even handle the reality I’ve discovered. I’m not ready for Star Wars, Star Trek, or Star Man.” My voice escalated, “I’m not ready for The Tazmarks vs. johnny, Jen, and Dan Kahn the Zandron who murdered my parents without batting an eye!” My voice softened, “And I’m not ready for you and me to die, not anymore, now that we are united.”

  Affection glinted in johnny’s eyes. A black and purple butterfly flitted around his head without discrimination, even though its little wings would wilt with one hiss of johnny’s breath. I wished I could be like that butterfly and not judge the diabolic. A true Angel would see the beauty in everything. As much as I loved him, it wasn’t unconditional. It just wasn’t. If he crossed the wrong lines, I would still try to push him out of my existence. But I wanted to love him unconditionally. I so desperately did.

  “I hope you can,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure if he meant he hoped I could love him unconditionally, or if he hoped I would face the fight.

  He said, “Tazmarks are not so bad.” He took my hand and walked me back toward the cabin. “It’s just our nature, our way. Do not fear. I know what I’m doing. The Dragon World speaks to me. I have knowledge and might from the blood of Black Dragon Kings. Now that you’re not fighting me, I am sharper, clearer. I cannot be outwitted, not even by another Black Tazmark. And the Goldens, well, the Blacks have always reigned.”

  I listened to him hungrily. I had to absorb every bit of information that I could. Even then, I doubted it would be enough.

  I asked, “If the other side should win, what would happen? I mean, would they kill each other then?”

  “The Goldens would fight the Black Tazmark. If the Goldens won, they’d fight each other.”

  “If that’s so, how come they don’t all kill each other in the Dragon World?”

  “Dragons are different. There are many worlds to conquer and destroy. They unite for that purpose. Tazmarks can unite briefly, just as they have united tonight to eradicate me, but because we are earth bound, and competing for territory, we are compelled to kill each other.”

  “On that topic,” I stopped walking, “what exactly happened in those bars the police squared off in New York?”

  He stood in silence, eyes empty.

  “You made them kill each other, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because they . . . called?”

  “Yes, they called for chaos. If I had not answered, they would have all suffered some other way, by other Tazmarks or the servitors of other Tazmarks, or by the works of other creatures of our nature. However, I wanted the task. They were in my territory, and a possible threat to you.”

  “johnny, everyone’s a threat to me.”

  He smiled faintly, “Be happy then that there are people still alive.”

  I glowered. “So, those people would have died anyway?”

  “Yes, within close range of that time.”

  “How can that be?”

  “I’ll tell you later.” He squeezed my hand tighter and started us walking again. “We must prepare for tonight. You will see things you’ve not seen before. Things that will daze you. Things that will dazzle you. Don’t close up. Trust no one. Your light is your only defense. Use it relentlessly.”

  Without thinking, I slipped back to my old ways. “God have mercy,” I said in a high-pitched whine, looking to the heavens.

  “Stop praying for mercy. It’s time you gave it to yourself.”

  I glanced at him, reservation in my eyes.

  “There is no God,” he said.

  “Then why are you wearing my crucifix?”

  “It’s not about God. It’s about giving. It’s about reminding me that sacrifice rejuvenates me. Me, Jen. It rejuvenates me. You, it drains dry. So stop praying and start fighting for yourself.”

  He helped me hop across a stream. My boots landed in the soft mud on the bank. Then we stepped forward in an even stride. I said, “I still believe in a heavenly sort of divinity, but I will try to follow your instructions.”

  “Trying is not enough. See the enemy dead.”

  I wanted to again say, I’ll try, but his stern face told me that answer was unacceptable.

  Ahead of us, the cabin’s brown logs looked richer than normal. The land glowed strangely. As we neared, it seemed the trees were empty of bird and bug. Even the Zandron wasn’t visible. I wished it were permanent.

  I turned my sight inward trying to visualize the enemy dead. I couldn’t. I almost started to cry with despair, but the time for crying was over.

  “You can do it,” johnny said. “You can.”

  I nodded tearfully.

  We reached my favorite tree. We cuddled all afternoon. He pampered me with his magical manifestations of fruits, cheese, breads, a variety of nuts, and crystal water. He lavished me with tenderness and assuring words about the battle to come, helping me envision the desired outcome. My tenacity returned. I even thought I was ready for all the terror that the evening might hold. I was at long last accepting reality, even though the reality I was accepting seemed like a fantasy.

  I kept my distance from the cabin because the Zandron spent most of his time in it. And though I didn’t relish my parents’ killer dwelling in the place they once slept, I was relieved that I didn’t have to view him too much, except for his periodic emergence to scan the territory assessing the situation. He seemed preoccupied, eager for a battle that would merit his fighting abilities. We’d all be tested that night—even the enemy.

  Chapter Twenty

  The blue-black sky had birthed a billion stars. It was a moonless night and the heavens couldn’t have been more beautiful. But the night ahead would be ugly.

  The Zandron emerged from the cabin and walked over to us. He stopped beside me. He nodded, acknowledging his readiness. Then he crossed his arms and stared blank-faced out at the clearing. Some three musketeers we were: a Dragon, an Angel, and Dan Khan the Zandron. I surveyed the Zandron’s Herculean body, torn between hate and gratitude. Hate was stronger. Much stronger. I slipped behind johnny, appearing on his other side. I wasn’t going to be near my parents’ killer, even if he was on our team.

  Thunder rolled in the hills. A storm, I thought.

  “No,” johnny said. “The Tazmarks are preparing to fight. They summon destruction.”

  My face flushed with heat. Was I breathing?

  “You have power, Jen. Believe in it. Your light is noxious to a Tazmark. Am I not proof?”

  A trio of voices sounded from the clearing, about thirty feet from us. Yellow lights shone from the ground, highlighting three males, black capes blowing wildly in a conjured wind, revealing their Three Muskateerish manner of dress. Their faces had not yet turned Dragon. Chord was in the middle. A longhaired golden Tazmark was at his left. To his right, stood a Tazmark of the Black variety. His hair was longer than johnny’s, his dark skinned face as handsome. I could feel his power cracking through the spheres of heaven and hell. I labeled him, the Dark

  One.

  I touched johnny’s arm.

  “Yes,” he said, “just as I thought.”

  I shuddered. My legs felt like Jell-O and my head like a polka dot. I was out where the big boys play. But I felt like a little girl.

  I wasn’t made for a James Bond world.

  I glanced at the Dark One again and then back up at my big, handsome johnny. Who was stronger? Who? Chord and the other Golden Tazmark felt marginal compared to johnny and the Dark One. I shuddered, realizing that the torment Chord had inflicted would pale to the havoc a Black Tazmark could reap. I was grateful that johnny was not a Golden.

  Silvery glitter rained upon the three Tazmarks’ heads, glistening in the yell
ow light that surrounded them.

  “Why are they doing that?” I asked curiously.

  “They are giving you the full show—the movie version, you know . . . The Three Musketeers. They are trying to hypnotize you. You are the weak link. If they break you, they figure they have us.”

  “Is that true?”

  “Yes.”

  I gasped, “No. This is bad johnny, bad.”

  “This is one time that I can’t save you unless you are willing to save yourself.”

  The three Tazmarks withdrew swords from their cloaks and pointed them to the sky. Chord hailed words that fell upon me like gentle rain. “All for one. And one for all. It’s not too late Shen to join our side. Together we will fight for honor and right. And then Juan will never harm you again.”

  I stepped forward. The swords. I loved the swords and the Three Musketeers.

  johnny stepped up from behind, enfolding me in his arms. His breath was more tantalizingly warm in my ear than Chord’s voice was gentle. “This is the great seduction. I’ve done it a thousand times.”

  He glided to my side and clutched my chin, forcing me to face to him.

  A bit mesmerized yet, I shook my head and stared into johnny, letting him draw me into him with his whirling eyes. It was him I had to trust. Because if I couldn’t, then love wasn’t real. And no version of God was either. And if that was so, I didn’t want to live. I had to play this out to the end. I had to know for sure if johnny was my true love or my traitor.

  Perhaps these other Tazmarks were a part of his illusion. Perhaps his goal was to play cruel games with me until my body functioned no more, and my spirit was all that was left to imprison in his coffin hell forever. If so, the Devil ruled. Oh, how he ruled.

  johnny kissed my neck, stirring an inner fire. Red filled me. “I am true to you,” he said warmly. “Give yourself to me. I’ll prove my love.”

  “All for one, Shen,” shouted Chord.

  I yearned to turn my head toward them; johnny wouldn’t let me.

  “One for all,” shouted the longhaired Golden.

  “All for you,” shouted the Dark One seductively, arousing my passion. I wanted to run to the Dark One. In my mind, I saw him kissing me passionately. It felt good. My eyes were closed. When did that happen?

 

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