The 2nd Realm Book One (The 2nd Realm Trilogy 1)

by Montoya, RoChe

  The 2nd Realm

  By RoChe Montoya

  Copyright 2015 RoChe Montoya

  Chapter 1

  Mack has been watching and waiting

  On a mid-summers evening a young couple take a drive out to Lake Berryessa in their 1956 white Karmann Ghia to have a romantic picnic. They throw a blanket down near the edge of the water and get comfortable. The young man tosses his loafers off his feet; and then playfully rushes in to steal a kiss from his lovely date.

  “Not yet, you have to wait for your dessert,” says the young lady.

  She twists her pin curled hair with her fingers and gives the horny pimple faced boy a seductive look. He gazes back at her pouty red lips and perky breasts and knows he is putty in her hands. The girl can feel his hormones ragging and diverts his attention by opening up the wicker picnic basket. She takes out two large ham and cheese sub sandwiches with extra pickles, just the way he likes it; and then slowly pulls out a bottle of wine and two plastic cups.

  “I grabbed this from my mom’s liquor cabinet. I plan on having some fun tonight.”

  The young man grins from ear to ear, hoping that the wine will get him to third base maybe even further.

  The sandwiches have been devoured and the wine is almost gone, one last sip in her plastic cup and then it’s time for the couple to make out. The boy reaches up the back of the girl’s sweater and starts to unfasten her bra. Their passionate kiss is quickly disrupted when the young lady notices a man nearby acting strangely. The foreigner takes refuge behind a tree before adorning himself with a black executioner's hood and a waistline bib that is decorated with the zodiac crossed circle, along with a pair of clip-on sunglasses.

  The hooded man approaches the couple, pointing a weapon. The terrified girl alerts her boyfriend: Oh my god, he's gotta gun!

  The sick son of a bitch now takes some clothesline from his belt and orders the girl to tie her boyfriend up. After she is finished, the man in the hood then binds the frightened young woman. While the couple is hog-tied, the hooded man begins to stab at them ferociously. As the killer is having his fun, he doesn't know that he is being watched, not that he would see anyway. The voyeur’s name is Mack and he is enjoying himself as he studies the technique of this slayer. He watches the Zodiac killer from the other realm, a sick way to get his own pleasures vicariously through someone still living. Mack’s twisted mind adores the fact that he has found someone like himself: a cold blooded killer. He becomes mesmerized in a web woven of blood and fear. The sight of the humiliation, torture and death are like a drug to him. Every stab and gunshot brings a smile to the peeping spirit. The only thing better than watching would be killing the poor bastards himself, but all he can do is get off by viewing others reap the fleshly pleasures.

  In the late eighteen hundreds-his hay day, he went by another name: Jack the Ripper. He still holds a bitterness that the name came so close to one he would approve of. His real name is William McIntire, which is why he has chosen the name Mack and would have preferred Mack the Ripper, but he was not going to give himself away over one letter. In the spirit world however he makes sure everyone knows who he is and to get his name right. He is looking at this Zodiac as a future protégé, and he keeps a close eye on him, knowing he will soon join him in this realm of spirits that he lives in.

  Sometime in the late nineteen eighties the man known as the Zodiac lies in his bed dying. As he starts to fade away, he looks past all the nurses and doctors and sees a man with devilishly good looks reclining in a chair. The man is unseen by anyone else in the room. It is Mack and he is ready to claim his new prize.

  Chapter 2

  A Quaint Town

  Her name is Charlotte. She has just finished her yoga class and is walking towards the rail transit station on an unusually warm autumn afternoon. The sun is sitting high and bright in the sky casting dancing shadows through the tree lined street. The stately Maple trees, adorned with red and yellow leaves are gently blowing in the wind. There is a smell in the air of fresh baked pumpkin and apple pies coming from Dina’s Bakery - a hot spot in town known for their vast array of pastries.

  As she walks down the cobblestone sidewalk, she looks at all the little cottage style shops that are decorated for the harvest season. There are tall hay mounds with carved pumpkins of scary jack-o-lanterns, ghosts and even bats. There are baskets with bountiful gourds of numerous colors on display for patrons to enjoy. Many of the store front windows have Halloween paintings that the local grade-school children have put up to win a prize. The feeling in the air is joyful as the children are gearing up for Trick or Treat.

  Charlotte continues to make her way to the rail station, humming a song as she walks. She reaches into her backpack and grabs a hand braided hemp rope that holds her monthly rail pass; puts it around her neck; and then takes a look at her pocket watch, only ten more minutes till the train arrives. She glances over to La Cocina de Lucia - an authentic Mexican restaurant; and since there's not enough time to place an order, she decides to just pick up a menu. Coming out of the Cocina she notices that the usually quiet rail station has become unusually busy. There are a group of people that seem out of place and Charlotte is picking up on the odd energy. She thinks to herself, was there an event in town that she didn’t hear about? She notices that these strangers look suspicious with their skeleton hoodies, baggy jeans and handkerchief hanging out of their back pocket.

  “Talk shit now, mother fucker!” she turns to see two thugs with guns.

  Before the shots begin, she sees a little boy in the open. She runs to put herself between the child and the gunmen: silence. After the shots are fired, the once busy rail station is all but abandoned as people begin to run away from the scene. Charlotte looks around, only to see one body lying face done on the ground in a pool of blood. She thought the boy’s mother was shot trying to get to her child. As she looks closer, she notices that the woman has dreadlocks and is dressed in yoga gear. She looks up and sees the mother holding the young boy by the hand as she quickly leads her son away from the station.

  “This can’t be…,” she declares without taking her eyes off the body that's lying on the ground.

  People have now begun to exit the busy shops to see what all the commotion is about. One of the teachers from the yoga studio comes to take a look.

  “Stella, did you see the gunmen?” Charlotte asks her friend, but she pays her no attention, “Stella, did you hear me?”

  The young woman turns and walks right through Charlotte as if she were a ghost. Stella feels a quick jolt to her stomach as she passes through the new spirit.

  “You must be confused young lady,” a male voice exclaims.

  She turns to see a gentleman with a goatee, long white hair pulled back in a ponytail and dressed in a black suit.

  “You can hear me?” Charlotte looks surprised as she gazes at the man with the kind face.

  Before he can answer her, another voice speaks up, “Funny how the ones the punks are shooting at are the ones that don’t get hit.”

  “Will you stow that talk, Jake,” the kind man looks over at his soldier friend who flew in with wings of an angel and is dressed in a leather bomber jacket and wearing a helmet. “This will take some time to explain,” he tells Charlotte.

  His attention is diverted for a moment when he notices a couple of figures sitting back in the shadows, but he quickly comes back to his conversation with the young woman.

  “No…” Charlotte begins, “I get it, that’s me down there.”

  She continues to look at her dead body; and then after a few moments she looks up and notices that everything seems differ
ent. The sky is no longer blue with soft white clouds and the trees are not adorned with colorful leaves, everything is now a dirty red hue.

  “So what kind of spiritual place is this?”

  “Before I answer that, let me introduce myself. I’m Nick Baker and this is my friend, Jake."

  The handsome soldier removes his helmet and then shakes the young ladies hand. Nick then goes on to tell Charlotte that this place is for those who have suffered a tragic death like hers, but it's also a home for those who commit horrible acts of violence that cause the suffering and death of the innocent. He continues to explain that her energy was at a heightened level when she was shot and therefore she was instantly imprinted in what is known as the 2nd Realm. As they continue to talk back and forth Charlotte sees the coroner’s van pull up while police are still interviewing the witnesses to the shooting. Moments later everything is starting to wind down as the medical official zips up the body bag, but stops for a second to brush a fallen leaf away from her corpse. Everything seems to be moving fast. Moments later the three are out of the city.

  “How did we get here so quickly?” Charlotte says as she looks back to see the rail station and the now quiet main street off in the far distance.

  “Lesson one,” Nick says, “You can do or be almost anything in this place,” he continues, “You've been walking with us and hadn’t thought about how fast Jake and I've been moving, you were just keeping up.”

  “You mean I was moving that fast and yet it felt like just a little stroll?” she pauses for a moment and then asks, “What exactly did you mean when you said, almost anything?”

  “Of course you can’t go back,” Nick points out.

  “Then what do people do here?” Charlotte asks and before Nick can answer, she sees a tall tree creature with its willowy branches swaying as it soars about. Next to the bark spirit is a beautiful white centaur, the two beings just having a conversation of their own as they pass by. "They are magical!" she continues, "I totally expected angels with wings, of course, how typical, but centaurs and tree people – amazing!"

  “That is an example of how we use our minds to create whatever defines us, for instance, our look." He goes on to answer her question that was interrupted by the interesting new spirits. "We do one of two things,” Nick begins to tell her as he tightens his ponytail, “try and get back home and stop those who attempt to break through to the other side.”

  “Why would you want to prevent people from getting back with their loved ones?”

  “If any of us were to make it back, our pure energy would eventually destroy everything in that realm. All would die,” Jake states the bleak outcome, “We are what you’d call, keepers of order and light.”

  “So you stop them to save those who still live,” Charlotte says, now hundreds of miles away from her home and the scent of a beautiful autumn day.

  “Basically that’s it,” Nick blurts out. “Others have different reasons, but it all comes back to that one.”

  The two spirits tell Charlotte that they are going to take her to The Council of Light and that more of this battle that is in momentum will be explained. They make their way to the Greek City of Delphi where the council's headquarters are. They fly over Castalian Spring, the sacred spring of Delphi that lies in the ravine of the Phaedriades. They glide past Tholos at the sanctuary of Athena Pronoia, a circular building where only three Doric columns remain of the original twenty. Soaring in closer to the site where the stone of Cronus sits they see the eight guards on the four sides of the ruins. Beneath the Temple of Apollo lies the entrance to the council's meeting place.

  "I've always wanted to visit Greece; never thought I'd be flying here without being in a plane," says Charlotte as tourist are snapping photos of the famous three columns.

  "Where we're going, sightseers are unable to penetrate," states Nick.

  They enter at the west access and are met by the Egyptian God, Sobek and the Greek God of War, Aries; that are guarding the hidden fortress. Carved on a stone in front of the entrance is the Council motto: Know Thyself, Nothing in Excess and Make a Pledge.

  "We try to mold ourselves after this saying," begins Nick. "Know thyself; you know in your heart if you are for the light or the darkness; Nothing in Excess, we have nothing in this realm but who we are, for love or for hate. We don't get to feel anything else, for example a good smoke." Nick has a relished look on his face as he thinks back on a personal pleasure he once enjoyed. "Make a Pledge, after dealing with your own death; you have to decide who you are willing to fight for, those who you still love, or your own personal needs."

  After explaining the motto The Order lives by; they make their way to the Council's chambers and are ushered in by Larry the falcon, and Lazar, a caped and hooded superhero.

  Chapter 3

  The Council of Light

  The nine members of the elite committee are seated around the ornate oval table. There is: Gandriel the light elf, with a golden glow almost radiating from her blonde hair and wooden crown, winged with jewels and silver; Zenon, the sleek and angular Roswell looking alien; Phoenix, the Egyptian Goddess with King Tut cobra shaped headdress; Soaring Eagle, the Indian chief, with his headdress of beautiful bird feathers. There is even Hazel, the sorceress, she sits with an elegant sky blue dress and brown wooden staff; Sir Edwardo Victoria, the steampunk wizard who has the standard magicians' hat, that is fitted with cogs and a pair of goggles where the ribbon would be; Buck the stag, with his lordly rack of deer antlers; Angelica, the beautiful angel warrior; and the powerful Norse God, Odin.

  "Please come forward," says Buck with the massive ten point rack.

  "We are here to recommend another recruit in our fight for order," Nick informs the assembly, "Her name is Charlotte." The young woman steps forward for all to have a good look at her.

  "It is with bittersweet joy that we welcome you to this gathering," says Angelica in her soft but spirited voice, it cannot be easy to greet someone who has just lost their life.

  The three take their seat before the congregation of respected council members in the grandiose judicial chamber. Hanging on the impressive twenty-four foot walls are living portraits of former congress members that have filled their term of two hundred and fifty years. These previous leaders are given the highest honor among the Order of Light and are standing by to aid in the cause for justice, and to maintain peace. Even though they are no longer part of the nine members of the council, they can interact with the elite through their living photograph. You never stop being an Agent of Light, but this is as close to retirement as they can hope to get.

  "You are here for a reason, young lady," begins the powerful god, Odin, "There is a battle that is being fought, and the realm of the living are oblivious to it."

  "We saw how you saved that boy's life with no hesitation," begins Sir Edwardo Victoria, the wizard with the fashion style from the late 1800s, "No thought but to preserve life, even at the possible expense of your own."

  "There is honor and strength of character in your action," the elegant and beautiful sorceress Hazel tells her, "These are the qualities we need in our agents."

  "Our job is to maintain the order between the two worlds." Zenon, the Roswell style alien tells her. He continues to inform the young lady about the 2nd Realm, and how everything revolves around energy. He explains that this energy is inside all of the living; it is otherwise thought of as the soul, and that flesh is just a husk for the force to be contained in the realm of the living.

  The Egyptian Goddess, with her Tut fashioned headdress of a royal blue and gold king cobra tells her, "The energy you had at the time off your death was so elevated in tragedy that you were imprinted into this world." She continues to explain that the energy at birth starts off small and grows as the baby does. When a life comes to its inevitable end, the spirit will fade away as nature intends. It is the same for the ill. When the spirit becomes fatally sick, the life-force begins to fade away just as if it were old. The unfortunate y
oung souls that never get a chance to grow do not come to the 2nd Realm.

  "We don't really know where they go, but that is why there are no babies here," Jake says, "Young children, yes, but no babies."

  "Your spirit was fully grown and flourishing when your untimely end came," Soaring Eagle continues, "Your instincts to save the boy aligned you with this realm and your death brought you here. Did you happen to notice the others that were there as well?"

  "Those two in the alleyway?" she asks him.

  "They were there if one of your killers should have died," Jake tells her.

  "Like a recruiting team for the dark side of the force," she says with a small chuckle, she even can hear a little noise come from Jake as he gets the joke.

  "It is those dark spirits that present the most danger to the land of the living," Gandriel, the light elf states, "There are far too many of them out there, and far too few of us. We need all of the honorable spirits in this fight that we can get. Even better when they are devoid of fear and seek what is right, such as yourself and Agent Jake there." Charlotte looks over to see him give her a little smile and nod.

  "This battle between the darkness and the light has gone on before any of us ever came to this realm," Odin tells her. She knows he is just a man in a different form but she feels as if a Nordic God was truly speaking to her, "and the repercussions of our war are felt in the realm of the living, at times hurting, even killing them."

  "Because of the damage our energy can inflict on the 1st Realm," the beautiful witch, Hazel, picks up where Odin left off, "The punishment must be swift. For those who break through it is banishment to black ash."

  "You will be given time to grow accustomed to your powers," begins Gandriel, "but you will be hardened in the field. An infiltration into the realm of the living could happen at any time and you will most likely be called upon." She twitches one of her pointy elven ears like someone giving a wink with the eye.