by James Somers
Lucifer grinned in his devilish way. “Of course you don’t,” he said. “I didn’t think that you would.”
The queen waited, but Lucifer said nothing more about it. Instead, he was scanned the faces in the crowd, looking over their village among the trees. He seemed uninterested in their conversation now.
“Such a primitive lifestyle,” he remarked. “Why you would remain out here in the jungle, when you have the ability to merge with human society and enjoy its luxuries, I have no idea.”
Luxana waited, looking between her people and the angel. They were growing anxious, wondering what this was all leading toward. But Lucifer simply stood there.
Finally growing impatient, she asked, “What is coming, Lucifer?”
He had been nodding to people in the surrounding crowd, seeming as friendly as could be. Now he turned his eyes back to Luxana, a toothy smile on his face. “Retribution.”
Before anyone could react to this, Lucifer faded away like a mirage in the desert. No flash. No bang. Just gone, leaving behind that final word echoing in the minds of everyone present.
Retribution
Sunlight glinted from the metal fuselage of an aircraft passing high above the thick green canopy where howler monkeys carried on with their cacophonous choruses. Given the huge expanse of the Amazon Jungle, it was not so unusual to have planes occasionally fly over. It was, however, extremely rare for them to leave anyone, or anything, behind.
The aircraft was unremarkable. A common twin engine variety that normally carried freight. There were no particular markings either, no obvious affiliation with any of the warring super powers.
Inside the cargo hold, a single occupant sat on the metal floor, feeling every jarring jolt through the fuselage. The man was of medium height and average build. He wore a pair of tan cargo pants and a black tee shirt that fit well enough to show off his lithe muscular build.
A parachute adorned his back as he stood. A red light with a buzzer came on in the cabin, signaling him to be ready. The jump coordinates were coming up now. The man barely regarded the indicator. He already knew when to jump.
He was a highly trained operative. An elite soldier. A man without pity or remorse. However, none of these characteristics would make the difference today.
It just so happened that this man was carrying something within in him that made him special. He was human, but he was an enhanced human. That was how his Fuhrer had put it. A superman, made in the image of a superman.
The pilot hollered back to him from his chair at the plane’s controls. He was the only other person on the aircraft. A green light next to the red came on as the other went off. It was time.
Without any hint of hesitation, the man ran forward, passing through the open cargo hold door. Gravity and wind fought for possession of his body in a tug of war that dragged him down toward the green expanse of jungle below. He was spread eagle for a moment, plummeting toward the trees.
The soldier pulled the ripcord on his parachute. The flap came open. The wind snatched the silk cloth, threatening to rip it away from him. However, the lines held true, and the soldier was pulled back momentarily from Gravity’s monstrous grip. His plummet toward death had been reduced to a steady descent.
Monkeys screamed warning cries as he approached from on high. They leaped away from the tree where he was clearly going to crash. Most likely, he would be tangled and trapped high in the canopy, unable to get down to the jungle floor.
However, this man wasn’t concerned. Just before his chute would have dropped with him into the high branches of the jungle canopy, he released the buckle, sliding out of his parachute harness. Gravity yanked him down fast as the wind wrenched the chute away, sending it gliding off like a ghost in flight.
The soldier passed through a maze of branches before reaching out to take hold of one sturdy enough to support his weight. He caught hold, his fingers and forearms straining with the effort. Normally such a maneuver would have torn muscle and snapped bone. But his enhancements prevented such damage now, and he was grateful for it.
The branch gave way, bending with his one hundred and eighty-four pounds. The trunk of the tree, however, exerted its own rigidity, resisting the pull of gravity on its branch. The soldier swayed in the air, gripping the branch while looking for another nearby.
Hand over hand, he moved laterally on this limb, and then dropped to grab another. Closer to the trunk of the tree, he maneuvered through limbs where they jutted out from the main body of the tree closer together. Quick progress was made, and he soon found himself on the leaf-strewn jungle floor amid thick foliage.
The soldier sniffed the air, inhaling deeply. He had been given a scent to seek after. Again, only his enhancements made it possible for him to actually recognize the smells of the jungle and differentiate them from one another. Without them he might have noticed only two or three very strong odors in such an environment. He was like a hound now, and his master was expecting results.
Eyes closed, sifting through the information his nose brought to him, he found what he was looking for. The soldier’s eyes snapped open reflexively, finding his direction. Instantly he shot away through the jungle after his prey.
Luxana did not know what to make of Lucifer’s odd behavior or his threatening pronouncement. It almost seemed to her that he had made his initial request with the hope that she would refuse him. Perhaps this retribution he had spoken of, just prior to vanishing, had been the real cause for his coming. If so, why did he then leave them without violence?
Her people were just as bewildered by these events as she was. No one knew what to make of the angel’s arrival here in the jungle, especially after so long a time. The sprites had come to believe by now that they were a forgotten people. And that was what they wanted.
The last thing Luxana desired was to become entangled in further strife among the Descendant clans. Too much damage had resulted already. She liked the idea of being swept up within human conflicts, like this second world war, even less.
The Amazon Jungle had been the perfect place to get away from it all. Here they had been able to put the past behind them and start over. The jungle was akin to their former home of Galidel on the spiritual plane, howbeit more treacherous. Naturally, this kept most of the tourists away.
The jungle also provided all that they could need. Food was plentiful here, and fertile plots had been sown with seed to create lavish gardens and orchards for fruits. Meat was also in abundant supply, and the sprites enjoyed a protein rich diet of monkey and capybara with anaconda gumbo on special occasions.
They had spent several decades in the Amazon since the release of the cherubim on the spiritual plane and the subsequent destruction of their world. And they wanted nothing more now than to be left alone, separated from the troubles of the world, where they could dwell at peace. But Lucifer’s arrival had spoiled all of that.
Sprites were not forgotten after all, as they had hoped. The Fallen still knew how to find them. And where these wicked angels inserted themselves, trouble was never far behind.
Mere seconds had passed when the first cries of distress came to Luxana’s ears. The villagers were still huddled together, murmuring about the cryptic manner of Lucifer’s visit and departure while attempting to ascertain what it all must mean. The first she heard were shouts of warning silenced quickly. The next she heard came as shrieks of horror.
Warrior sprites attempted to make their way, flying over the crowd in the direction of this sudden disturbance, even as others retreated. They found that a man had emerged from the jungle, pouncing like a panther. He was so quick—much faster in his movements than a human should be.
Luxana hovered high, trying to get a good view of this interloper. She saw a soldier crashing through sprites like some crazed juggernaut. Her warriors were there to oppose him, but the soldier barely regarded their interference. Their slight bodies made them like children to this man.
What made no sense at the moment was why
he was still coming. Clearly her warriors had attempted to ensnare the man’s mind with their angelic gazes. But this soldier kept coming, as though nothing at all could stand in his way.
Humans and Descendants alike were not immune to the wily charms of sprites. At a sprite’s command, almost anyone would gladly take their own life, or that of another, without hesitation. But something was wrong here.
Already others had realized that their efforts were in vain. For whatever reason, the soldier went unaffected by their powers of persuasion. Luxana and her warriors retrieved swords and bows from an armory kept close at hand. Tears came to her eyes, hearing the screaming pleas of her people in the throes of death.
They flew at the man, weapons in hand. Several of Luxana’s more adept warriors attacked with swords. The soldier dodged away and then back at them, disarming two at a time with crushing blows. He took up their weapons, becoming even more dangerous than he had been while unarmed.
Bowmen sent a volley at the soldier at Luxana’s order. The soldier dashed aside among more sprites, the entire village a chaotic mass of frightened lambs trying to escape the slaughter that had suddenly come upon them. It was hard to tell where the man was at times, causing many who fled from him to actually run toward him.
More arrows were fired, but the speed of this assailant and the ensuing chaos caused sprites to be killed with every volley. Even though the soldier had been hit a few times, he had not stopped. The arrow shafts were pulled out or snapped off. But he kept on killing.
Then Luxana realized what she had not noticed before. The man’s gaze was dull. His eyes did not focus upon any particular target. He was blind.
Lucifer had chosen his assassin well. This soldier was particularly suited to this job. Being blind, he was not subject to the power of sprites which, apart from mild telekinesis in some, was primarily invested in their beauty and persuasive powers. Terror struck her, understanding that her people were all but powerless against this killer.
Sprites fled into the jungle while the brave remained, unwilling to let this murderer chase them away. Luxana was among them. A contingent of her warriors attempted to shield her, keep her from the fight. After all, she was their queen. They could not afford to lose her.
However, those who made the attempt to stop this human gone berserk were quickly dispatched without mercy. The blind assassin cut them down like wheat before a scythe. There was no chance of overpowering him. He was too big for them. There was no chance of out maneuvering him. His other senses apparently more than compensated for his lack of sight.
Her people were dying all around her. Luxana felt dumb and mute. She had stopped calling orders to her soldiers as the situation turned into pure chaos. How could this have happened?
Luxana had failed. She was nothing more than a useless figure head. She had no idea how to stop this man whom Lucifer had sent. And she had no doubt that the angel had been the one to send him. His timely arrival just after Lucifer had threatened her and then vanished? It could not be coincidence.
She drifted down to the ground in her despair. Pixies lay dead or dying no matter which direction her gaze fell. Others ran frantically. The frenzied melee had caused lanterns to be shattered, their fire spreading quickly to begin consuming the trees where they had their homes. The remains of her meager kingdom were literally going up in smoke.
Then Luxana mustered the vestiges of her strength. She was not so young as she had once been, but she could still fight. She might still be able to kill this individual and stop the slaughter of her people. At the very least, she had to try.
Getting her legs under her again, Luxana stood to her feet. This she rarely did, since sprites tended to fly rather than walk. But she strode toward the man, even as he was busy intercepting her frightened citizens and destroying them.
Luxana raised her sword and ran at him, hot tears running down her cheeks in anger. The blind eyes did not react, but the head turned, hearing her approach. She noticed the slightest wrinkle of his nose, somehow in recognition.
At the last moment, he dodged sideways, hammering her arm with his own. The sword dislodged, clattering to the jungle floor. She winced at the pain. When she looked up at him, a fist pummeled her into unconsciousness.
The world was dark. Luxana felt pain radiating throughout her skull. She smelled burning and vaguely remembered that their homes among the trees had been set ablaze. Sound was muffled and distant.
Gradually, her eyes opened, allowing light to filter in though it hurt to do so. She felt the leaves and cool earth beneath her body. She was lying on the jungle floor.
Luxana’s eyes opened. Dead eyes stared back at her, causing her to start at the sight. Despite the aching throughout her slight body, she moved to put any distance she could between herself and those eyes.
The dead gaze belonged to a sprite, one of hers, who had still been alive hours ago. Before she could survey the rest of the scene around her, a strong hand grabbed hold of the back of her clothing, hauling her to her feet. Her eyes focused upon a man standing before her.
She did not recognize this person. The one holding her firmly in place was the same blind soldier who had killed her people. But this man was different. He could see her, his eyes already boring into her from ten feet away.
The man wore a dark uniform with a red armband bearing some sort of symbol within a white circle. Luxana did not recognize the symbol. She had been living in this jungle since the sprites had escaped Galidel’s destruction.
He possessed a single square of facial hair sitting on his top lip and a head of dark hair, receding slightly, combed to one side. He scowled at her. Whatever this had been, he was connected to it, and it appeared to be personal.
“Who are you?” Luxana demanded, trying to pull away from the blind soldier.
It was no use. His hand was like a vice, much too strong. Rough calluses grated against her delicate pale skin. His hands and arms—literally his whole body—was caked in dried blood. Looking to the ground where hundreds of her sprites lay dead or dying, she knew exactly where it had come from.
The man in the dark suit did not regard the catastrophic loss of life. He simply stared at her, beginning now to step closer. His hands were clasped together behind his back.
“Why have you done this?” she demanded again.
“Do you happen to remember Anai?” the man asked.
Luxana was bewildered by the question. What could she possibly have to do with this?
“Anai is my sister,” Luxana said. “Have you done something to her? Where is she?”
With blinding speed, the man slapped her across the face, causing her to reel to her left side. Only the grip of iron upon her arm kept her from falling. Luxana could taste blood in her mouth now.
“She is dead,” he said.
Luxana started to cry out, to spit at him, shout or scream—she didn’t know what. Again, his open hand battered her, this time on the other side of her face. She staggered, but the arm held her firm.
“You killed her.” He was attempting to keep his voice calm, but his contempt still shone through.
“What?” she said, the blood in her mouth now staining her teeth. “Anai is dead? But how?”
“Because her beloved sister didn’t bother to warn her of the coming destruction of Galidel,” he said. “You left her and her son to die.”
Then it struck Luxana. A familiarity. “Adolf?”
Adolf grinned. “Figured it out finally? But then you wouldn’t expect to see me, would you? We were meant to die, after all. But you failed.”
Luxana tried to shake off the fog enveloping her mind. Her head was throbbing from the blows she had been dealt. “Adolf, Lucifer has caused this,” she attempted to explain. “He was just here. He probably told you all sorts of lies—”
“Enough,” he said. “Without Lucifer, my mother and I would have died. And now that fate has finally come to you and your followers.”
Adolf raised a Luger 9mm pistol, aiming
at her head. Luxana was looking down the dark barrel. She tried to speak, to explain herself, but her mind was muddled now. She couldn’t get the words out.
“Having trouble speaking?” Adolf asked.
Luxana was surprised by this. Did he actually have the power to mesmerize a sprite. She couldn’t focus. Only his words came through clearly now.
Adolf smiled. “This must seem ironic to you,” he said. “I wonder how many times you forced the will of individuals so that they shot themselves. And now it’s you that’s looking down the barrel of a gun.”
“Adolf—”
His smile vanished, leaving only grim determination. He had been waiting a long time for this. Retribution.
Adolf squeezed the trigger. The weapon recoiled a little in his hand with the shot. Luxana collapsed, falling away from the grip of the blind soldier.
He looked at the assassin. “You did well today, Corporal.”
The soldier began to speak, but Adolf moved the barrel toward him. Being blind, the man didn’t notice. Adolf fired again, killing his guinea pig.
This had been another successful experiment. However, the serum still wasn’t perfect. Blind soldiers might have done well enough for something like this operation, but they wouldn’t survive long on a battlefield.
Adolf surveyed the village. Some of the sprites were still alive, but mortally wounded. He left them on the ground. The predators in the jungle had to eat too, after all.
He rose into the air using his power of flight. Some of the sprites had fled into the jungle. No matter. He had come for Luxana. The rest had merely been killed in order to destroy her spirit before she died. Whatever it took to meet his goals. As far as Adolf was concerned, the end justified the means.
Mercenary
Cole was the one who answered the door at their Lakefront home in the city of Kingston, Tennessee in the United States. He did so with great caution. They had settled here years ago in order to get away from the world of Descendants. It had proven more difficult than expected to find a place away from that world. However, America was still a very young nation by comparison, and so they had eventually ended up here, finding a remote location away from larger cities where they could observe the world in a somewhat detached manner.