Against the Fallen

by Devin Lee Carlson

  He held his chin up. “Kurian.”

  Curiously, the name ended with an ian like my own. He might be a long-lost relative. My breath hitched. “Farewell, Kurian.” My gaze penetrated his callous mind. Unlike the first Malakhim I dusted fast and merciful, Kurian earned a slow, brutal dismantling death. My destructive rage held nothing back.

  Kurian trembled at first, a spasm slighter than the twitch of an eye. He cocked his head in bewilderment and snickered. “Is that all you got? The mighty anti-being has gone soft.” In answer, a violent spasm rattled him from head to toe. The leader blinked. His smirk twisted into a grimace. “No, no, make it stop!”

  Arms snug against his torso, legs rigid, his stiff body skipped across the floor like a cell phone set on vibrate. The tremors intensified until bloodied tears streamed down his cheeks. Teeth chattered until they chipped and sprinkled to the floor. He continued to convulse, quaking like a jackhammer on high gear. An ear-splitting screech wailed across the room the second his body exploded. Long after the dust settled, the faint squeal echoed off the thick walls.

  Unaware, my telepathic destruct mode had intensified tenfold. Immediately following Kurian’s combustion, the Malakhim guarding the council performed the same dance of death before they exploded into dust. The destruction persevered beyond the command center. A deadly chain reaction equivalent to bullets discharging from a machine gun, my mind destroyed every Malakhim within a thousand-mile radius of the complex. Each one got to dance the explosive death.

  Physically and mentally drained, assured of everyone’s safety, I sank to my knees and then onto my haunches, heaving for air. The hacked barb that pierced my lung sank until it fell onto the floor. The tissue around my lung, no longer corporeal, had become pure energy. The brutal attack had not come close to destroying me, but it sure hurt like hell.

  While alive, Kurian must have used telekinesis to control his weapon and barb. Once the bearer of the weapon ceased to exist, the resistance expired, thus no longer preventing my wound from converting into energy. Why would Kurian triumph over my anti-ness? Was his weapon created by an archangel? Did they use sorcery or magical alchemy to forge Spitfire and other stone swords?

  My breaths caught up as I scanned the room for Sabree. Relief surged through me. Cayiel and a few elders had removed the barb so he could regain consciousness and sit up. The electrical charge still radiating from the shaft had cauterized the wound on exit.

  “Cayiel, tend to Brian,” Sabree said between breaths. He swallowed a handful of Colton tablets. “I’m going to check on Ariane.”

  Nodding approval, I almost flopped face-first when Cayiel skidded to my side, waving a few clan members over to help. A trickle of blood dribbled from my mouth when I cleared my throat. “They’re gone,” my voice croaked, “all of them.” Gibyss had sent me a telepathic message that they were unharmed, amazed all four Malakhim soldiers simultaneously exploded into dust.

  The clans no longer endangered, my eyes closed. Most survived, yet a nagging melancholy plagued my soul. The faint but persistent second call for help had long since ebbed from my consciousness. Conceding, I wept in silence until the blissful veil of unconsciousness overtook me. At peace, Spitfire in the form of a stone nestled within my fingers.

  32

  SECOND CRY FOR HELP

  M inutes after Sabree blew her a kiss and misted away with the others, Ariane made her last stand. Alone in the basement, she chose, out of necessity, to bear her child. Both painless and quick, unlike human birth, she didn’t need a midwife or a hospital. Sensing imminent danger, she lay still on Abyss’s cot and telepathically communicated with her baby, urging the child to leave her womb a week early.

  The child of pure energy and light exited her body through osmosis. To compensate for the physical world instead of being born inside the portal environment, her newborn transformed into corporeal form. Small wings folded into her back as she flitted above and landed on Ariane’s belly. Her sparkling eyes of turquoise gazed upward, taking in the new world.

  Ariane had blocked her mind to prevent anyone from discovering the birth, especially Sabree and Brian. This was the only way she could protect herself and her child at this vulnerable time.

  An excited gurgle tickled her ears. Mother reached for her daughter and brought her up to her face. She studied the baby’s perfect little features and then cried and laughed all at once when she noticed her baby passed for a miniature Sabree. “Poor sweet girl,” she cooed.

  “Your father will name you,” she said with tears spilling from her eyes. Ariane feared she might not be around to raise her, worried the Malakhim would send soldiers. “I will love you always, with my memories instilled inside your heart forever.” Cocking her head, movement upstairs confirmed her dread. The Malakhim searched the townhouse for stray clan members.

  Moving quickly, Ariane kissed her daughter one last time and tucked her inside a storage container, leaving the lid slightly ajar. She hid it under the daybed and looked upward at the basement door. From the sounds of their footfalls, the intruders were in the kitchen, too close for her liking.

  To lure the Malakhim away from her child, Ariane turned into a mouse and scurried upstairs, zigzagging under their feet and fleeing into the living room. She morphed back and armed herself with the crossbow she had stored under the couch. To redirect their attention, she threw a vase at the TV. “You want me, come get me!”

  The Malakhim poured out of the kitchen and stopped a few feet shy. “Kill her,” the female ordered.

  Poised in battle stance, Ariane shot the leader first. There were too many. She screamed when they threw a net over her nude body. Unable to morph, she reached out to her brother. But no one heard her cry for help, not even Brian. Their bond should have been stronger. Sobbing, she crumbled to the floor. Her body convulsed, reacting to the painful stabs aimed at her mind. Would she be able to survive a telepathic assault like her brother? Doubt filled her as the stabs increased.

  The agony ceased and she gasped from the abrupt release.

  A baby’s cry sent two Malakhim sprinting into the kitchen and beyond. Ariane fought against the net until the telepathic assault resumed. She struggled to maintain consciousness, especially when the two returned, one holding her daughter.

  He spoke in a confident voice, “Open the portal. We have two prisoners.”

  3 3 3

  Deep within the bowels of the Caderen complex, I woke with a start. The haunting dream of Ariane giving birth seemed all too real. My pulse raced when the bond that once linked us had been shattered. Stiff fingers grasped the edge of the bed to help pull me upright. My weary gaze darted around the room. What I feared most rang true—hers was the second cry for help.

  Cayiel’s voice pulled me from uncertainty. “It’s over, Brian, we’re safe. You made sure of that.”

  “Far from over. Thousands if not millions of Malakhim reinforcements have assembled to destroy us.” The vast numbers riveted my senses. A shudder of truth racked my entire body. “The others?”

  “Alive in the medical lab.” Cayiel paused as if to catch a breath. “Rest, you need to heal. The Malakhim won’t strike today, stunned by your fierce offensive.”

  “Already healed,” I growled. “But you don’t know the half of it.” The army I destroyed on Earth, their numbers countless, will be avenged. The resurgence had already begun. Dread returned, filling my gut with cemented worry.

  Teary eyed, Sabree materialized beside me. “The Malakhim raided the townhouse. Nothing but ashes remain. Kill the bastards. Kill them all,” he cried.

  His plea thundered in my ears, a roar that blocked all rational thought. News of the Malakhim attack on the townhouse numbed me at first. My insides iced over until they burned. My rage ablaze set me on fire. A deafening roar, my own, compressed my eardrums, ignited by the blood searing in my veins. Wrath fueled my vengeance for Ariane and her unborn child.

  Those around me came to a standstill as I engaged into hyperdrive, leapt out of
bed, and somersaulted to my feet with Spitfire flashing to life in my left hand. Black wings sprouted at the same time the portal opened. A thunderous boom resounded off the walls. The natural space disturbed by two conflicting universes launched the portal more violently than ever. Wings and all sped through the gaping hole, my physical body a distortion.

  3 3 3

  “Show no mercy!” Sabree called out to the empty room. A loud crack drowned out his voice. He almost toppled when the force of the portal sealed shut and hurled him across the room. Cayiel’s firm grip steadied him. Sabree had never seen Brian so driven with vengeance, doubting there would be a Malakhim left before his rage subsided.

  Sabree collapsed in Cayiel’s arms. Too much activity, stress, and then misting to check on Ariane had stalled his recovery. Chest wounds, more critical, took longer to heal, and in his case, the harpoon had pierced one of his two hearts. No one had any Colton tablets left.

  Black wings reappeared where the portal had sealed. Sabree tightened his hold to stand straight. Had Brian already returned? He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them in disbelief. When he looked again, Ariane’s wings spanned outward until they poked the ceiling. Unlike her brother, she only had one black wing on each side.

  Cayiel excused himself, leaving Sabree to balance on his own. That’s when he noticed her flat stomach. “Ariane? The baby?”

  Ariane’s wings retracted as her amber eyes settled to a misty glow. “I just returned from the portal. Zoeree is safe.” She held out her empty hands with the amulet attached to her right wrist.

  Grateful mother and child were safe, Sabree let the selfish act of having no say in the naming of their daughter take a back seat for now. However, he did approve of Zoeree.

  Realization struck him. What had he done? Each of his hearts skipped a beat, even the wounded one. Beads of sweat brimmed across his brow. “Oh my God, I thought you and Zoeree were dead. Just seconds ago, my angry pleas launched your brother into the portal to avenge you.”

  “Dear God,” she whispered. “Brian gave me the amulet so I could escape into the portal. I left Zoeree with Loree for safe keeping. I’m going back.”

  “God, no!” Sabree grabbed her arm. If Loree had his daughter and Brian launched into a warpath against the Malakhim, what would become of Zoeree? “What have I done?” The tightening of his chest replicated a hydraulic press. The room around him spun like the portal wormhole. Dark oblivion engulfed him.

  33

  GO TO HELL

  U nlike all other portal trips, I shot through the fissure between two universes, my coldhearted gaze focused on what lay ahead—death and annihilation by my will alone. On the upper-spectrum near the speed of light, I skyrocketed out of the wormhole into the expansive abyss of celestial gases and stars. Clusters of nebulas, galaxies, stars, and worlds blurred by as I flew toward the alleged epicenter of the portal universes—ground zero.

  Vaporous rivers glistened with opalescence gold, aqua, and neon orange. Gases rippled and spun like a liquid kaleidoscope, alive with branched lightning that arced in every direction. The visual spectacle, the epicenter, highlighted the launchpad of my telepathic bombardment. Dark wings beat steadily as I hovered in place, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. Unable to contain my rage, I released the first tumultuous bullet—nuclear—targeted for the Malakhim.

  A blazing arc of blackness erupted from my being. The antimatter. Its undulant rays displaced the natural cosmos around me. Iridescent gases bellowed until engulfed by the blast of antimatter equaled to the destructive power of several black holes. In a sense, I surpassed the Dark One by breaking the laws of both light and dark universes.

  The toxic missile shot out like a whip, snapping its lethal tentacles through space. The mass execution weakened in potency as it traversed outward across the portal universes. If one measured the distance in infinity, the destruction stretched trillions of miles, a mere smidgen of the universal vastness. The blast extinguished the Malakhim nearest ground zero—my destructive mind—in an instant. Their fate now a distant reminder of my rage and despair, turned to those Malakhim farthest from my reach.

  That blast drained some of my strength; yet, because I had touched down in the center of the universes, my body could absorb limitless amounts of energy from the celestial bodies orbiting me. Quicker too. As always, three times was a charm, so twice more, I repeated the attack, lashing out with missiles more potent than the first.

  The drain on my system was severe. I hovered in place until my transcendent body recouped for the return home. Telepathic cries hailed from the immense destruction. Shock and horror rang in my ears, inciting mixed emotions of grief, hatred, and remorse. The telepathic chatter wrenched my soul until no longer bearable. Welcome to Club Monster, worse than the Dark Ones combined.

  Eager to retreat, I dove into a forward roll, flew upright, and instead of speeding home, my wings froze in mid-flight. A familiar presence approached. Truth struck me like a freight train. That split second dragged on for an entire lifetime. My rage could’ve destroyed Loree along with the rest of her family. The devastation left me speechless, sickened me. Battle ready, I brushed regret aside as she drew near. Loree held something close to her bosom. A weapon? Behind her, a male hovered close by. Perhaps a bodyguard.

  She must’ve understood why I attacked so ruthlessly but doubted she perceived my loss, grief and emotions alien to her realm.

  “Stop the attacks,” her voice thundered inside my head. “Many have perished; more than we can count.”

  Maybe they did understand grief. I glared at her for a moment, unwilling to open my mind. She looked less maternal in spiritual form. My eyes drifted to the male and blinked, detecting a spark of fire in his eyes. Athorsis? Just as quickly, the flames extinguished.

  My mind spoke only to Loree. “I’m done here. The Malakhim know my intention should they return to Earth.” I choked on a flood of despair. “Our numbers are frighteningly low. More Malakhim amassed in retaliation. The army intended to claim humans as casualties. I refuse to let that happen.”

  “Your message was heard by all,” Loree drifted closer, leaving her escort behind. “I speak for the Malakhim. No more attacks if you promise the same. And you must reduce your portal visits to a minimum.” She stole a glance at her escort. “Alas, I cannot speak for the Lighted or Dark Ones.”

  “How did you escape the annihilation?” I refused to claim the destruction as my own doing. They had it coming.

  “The summoning. A Lighted One had foreseen your attack and summoned certain Malakhim families. Perhaps the same Lighted One who created you predicted this attack. Fellow Lighted Ones lost many of their own Malakhim. They need us to replenish and sustain their heightened powers. Most will come to realize our diminished numbers.”

  Athorsis. I severed the link with Loree. Denied the bodyguard a glance, beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel—Athorsis’s light. Clearly, my predicted attack awarded the archangel unlimited power in the heavenly realms. Brighter light equaled more lumens the same way Malakhim equaled more power. The analogy would launch my mind toward certain madness if it hadn’t already flown light years beyond.

  “You are a lethal weapon with powers beyond our abilities combined. Write your own destiny. Neither Athorsis nor Turian predicted this outcome. Be vigilant.”

  “Go to hell, and if you’re lucky, use my name as a free get-out-of-hell card.” My attempt to communicate with immortals who never experienced or adapted to human emotions was pointless at best. “Don’t care if I ever return. Other than the scenery, there’s nothing worth visiting.”

  “Wait!” She held out a small electrical bundle. “This is Ariane and Sabree’s daughter, Zoeree. Your sister entered the portal with her newborn, seeking my help.” She pointed out her companion. “Draven escorted her to me. I agreed to watch the infant while Ariane returned to help you, unaware you had already destroyed the entire Malakhim army. Take heed, Brian, your niece would have been a victim if not for th
e summoning.”

  Undaunted by her reprimand, my arms nestled the infant and instantly the two of us bonded. So young, it was hard to believe she had already experienced a summoning. I snuggled her against my chest, ready to take flight. A final glance at Loree and all I managed was a miserable smile. “Good-bye.” Now that I bullied the Malakhim into submission, there was no reason to stay. We flew off together.

  3 3 3

  My niece and I alighted in the same spot where I had launched into a murderous frenzy. Rage and blissful adoration, each one on opposite sides of the spectrum, forced my exit and now my return. We almost slammed into Ariane but bumped into Sabree. I ignored her pleas for the babe and placed her in Sabree’s arms instead. “Meet your daughter, Zoeree.”

  “Zoeree,” Sabree whispered. His face lit up like a lighthouse beacon in the fog.

  Despite the devastation inflicted on the Malakhim, I borrowed a moment to relish my friend while he coddled his baby girl. Now in physical form, the angelic babe had a headful of platinum curls and turquoise gems for eyes. Father and daughter resembled the painted angels of medieval artists.

  Remorse battled elation. Overjoyed to see Ariane alive; yet, curious as to why she didn’t let me know mother and child were safe, I confronted my twin. Her darkness mirrored my own, both of us far cast from heavenly creatures. My reflection in her black pupils, revealed the fire in my eyes glowed like red-hot embers.

  My voice hitched when I finally asked, “What, no warning, Sis? You couldn’t take a second to telepathically warn me that you entered the portal? I couldn’t detect either of you! I thought the Malakhim destroyed you.” Never dared to worry that I, myself, might have committed the deed. The veins in my forehead throbbed as fingers drummed my crossed arms. Never expected regret as her comeback.