by James Somers
Within moments, I had seemingly left them all far behind. I had no idea if Southresh could see my true form or not, but his voice was now waning. I flew on and on until I had passed well beyond the destroyed portion of the city.
When I believed I was truly safe and beyond Southresh’s influence, I made another attempt at teleportation. To my great relief, a portal envelope formed around me, invisible to others, but brightly colored to me. The peregrine falcon vanished from the skies over Philadelphia, leaving the city to its fate and a furious fallen angel.
Resignation
Fresh fires were now burning and more buildings had been destroyed in the wake of Brody’s visit with Southresh in Philadelphia. However, the boy had somehow managed to flee. Southresh had felt his diminishing presence, but had not seen exactly where the boy had gone. Eventually, he could not sense Brody’s presence at all in the city.
He stood on the street surrounded by several hundred demon possessed individuals of varying age and gender. All of them encrusted with grime and ash and blood. Being possessed they cared nothing for the normal routines and hygienic practices of humans. They smelled as bad as they looked.
Southresh delighted in this. He wanted the humans to suffer because of the spirits indwelling them. That was part of the reason they bothered to possess the bodies of humans at all. As fallen spirits they had no hope, and misery loves company. They desired only to fight back in some way against the Almighty. What better way than to afflict those creatures he had shown the most care for?
Several of the possessed approached him—lesser entities inhabiting the bodies of a boy, an old woman and a middle-aged man. Southresh knew these spirits. He had known them upon their creation by the Almighty. As beings of lesser power and rank, they had served in more mundane tasks. No reason to change that now.
“We cannot find Brody West,” the old woman said.
“He made several animal transformations before the building crumbled beneath him,” the boy said. “We thought he might have been buried beneath the rubble, but there is no sign of his body.”
Southresh grunted with dissatisfaction. “Of course, he is not there,” he said. “He is one of my Descendants. The boy would not be so easily killed.”
“Not even by you?” the man asked.
“Silence,” Southresh commanded. “If I truly wanted the boy dead then his carcass would be festering in the street right now. I meant only to chase him away”
The trio glanced at one another, wearing puzzled expressions.
“To what end?” the old woman asked. “He is of no use to our cause.”
“Your cause is the one I give you,” Southresh said.
“And yours is to obey Lucifer,” the boy replied.
“Is it?” Southresh answered. “And when Lucifer has finished with our part in his plan, what then?”
The trio of ghouls stared blankly at him, but had no answer.
Frustrated, Southresh said, “No, the boy was right. Lucifer will cut the ties that bind me and my brothers to these mortal bodies as soon as it becomes convenient for him to do so. This chaos is meant only to win the hearts of men over to him and his progeny as a hero that they can put their faith in. He has no intention of sharing this world with us.”
“But what can be done?” the man asked.
“We cannot fight Lucifer and win,” the boy added.
“We cannot,” Southresh admitted.
Even he, the mad god, knew who the stronger entity was in this equation. Lucifer had always been strong and beautiful and wise—the Almighty had made him so and had given him an exalted high position as the Covering Cherub. Only Michael had held such a desirable place.
Even after their rebellion against the Most High and their subsequent fall from their lofty estate, Lucifer had lost none of his potency. An angel cannot die, but there are worse things than death. Suffering would be worse, and Southresh had no appetite for his own—only the suffering of others to distract him from his own misery and thoughts of the future judgment still to come.
The other possessed persons had begun to move out of the light again. They preferred the darkness now, just as the spirits who inhabited them did. Evil always flourished in the dark where the light did not reveal its true nature.
Much of Philadelphia had been destroyed. Marshal law had also been instituted by the local government in order to keep civilians away from the chaos and death brought on by Southresh and his lesser servants. It would be time to move on to another city soon. That is, if Grayson did not put down his efforts first.
Already Southresh sensed Lucifer’s nearby presence in the city. He had been lodging in Philadelphia for at least two days. Why else would Grayson Stone come so close and remain, if not to face him and win the day during some public display of his fortitude? Grayson would seem to destroy him and then possibly release the human souls possessed by Southresh’s minions.
Southresh realized what he must do. A grin spread across his face. He wouldn’t go back to Tartarus if he could help it.
“What is it?” the old woman asked.
“It will not be necessary to fight Lucifer directly,” he said. “We will do what we have always done—rebel.”
Sprites
“You’re moping again, Luxana,” said a sprite called Redwyn.
Redwyn was a young male, younger than Luxana, although by appearance only a sprite would have known the difference. The tone of his voice was slightly deeper, his skin a shade darker. However, his hair was pale much like Lux’s almost-white hair.
Still, these features meant little in comparison with the one distinguishing factor that all sprites were aware of instantly. Humans and Descendants, alike, could be fooled, and often were, by any of these other characteristics. However, male and female sprites gave off pheromones that distinguished their gender regardless of what clothing they might be wearing. Whereas these scents were pleasant but unnoticed by others, sprites used them for mating purposes.
Lux was levitating so that she appeared to be sitting in the top of a tree among its green and yellow leaves. Like most Descendants, the sprites preferred forested areas in which to live. That much of the myths and legends were accurate.
However, unlike most Descendants, sprites preferred nudity. They did enjoy adorning themselves with flowery garland and shells and jewelry. But they did not wear clothing unless they journeyed outside their realm of Galidel.
Luxana remained above the treetops, her petite body completely unadorned, watching a distant orange sun sinking below the horizon. The moon was already coming into view directly above. Fireflies were just beginning to light their bodies for their evening courtship ritual.
“You should be happy that the healers were able to do so much for you,” Redwyn said, indicating the thin scar on her belly.
Her skin was so creamy in appearance that the wound was now almost invisible. She had received several treatments already, progressively improving her physical state to the point that she felt as strong as ever. However, her mental state remained in question.
Luxana had become somewhat withdrawn, even in the company of Redwyn whom most believed would eventually be her mate once the elders appointed for her. Ever since she had received her wound at the estate of Grayson Stone in Highgate, she had been this way.
“Does that matter?” she asked.
“What?”
“The scar,” she said. “Does it displease you?”
Redwyn levitated up through the branches to come face to face with her.
“I only thought that it might be unpleasant for you,” he replied. “I was concerned that you felt inadequate in some way because you were wounded instead of completing your assignment.”
“Why should I feel that way?” she asked, looking at him now. “Am I not beautiful to you still? Do you not desire me?”
“You are very desirable, Luxana, as always,” he replied. “Should the elders choose me for you, I would be honored. You are a cunning warrior.”
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sp; She smiled, turning back to catch a final fleeting glimpse of the sun before night took over. The stars were becoming apparent now, as though a blanket of day were being withdrawn from them by their mother the moon.
“Not so cunning as to kill my master’s enemies,” she said finally.
Redwyn did not reply, but considered the night coming on, gazing at the spangled sky.
When the sun was spent, she turned to him again. “Would you have spared your assassin?” she asked.
Redwyn seemed taken aback by her odd query. He took no thought for his answer. “I would not spare them,” he said. “Had I been that young man, I would surely have driven my blade completely through your flesh.”
Her eyes narrowed. She had expected his answer. It was the same answer she would have given also, if that same question had been put to her.
Redwyn continued. “He was foolish to let you go. The job left undone, your master will surely send you back to complete the task. This Brody West has left himself open to future attack.”
He was right, of course. Brody had done exactly as Redwyn described. And, just as certain, was Grayson’s desire to send her back, in due time, to finish what she had failed to do before.
As if by an afterthought, Redwyn added, “I am glad that the boy was foolish. I’m glad to have you alive.”
She waved away the awkward sentiment. “No, I agree with you,” she said. “I would have done the same thing given the situation. He was foolish.”
“Then, forgive me for asking, but why do you still seem troubled?” Redwyn asked.
She thought for a moment and then glanced at him. “I do not know.”
They waited together in the treetop, watching twilight recede. The visible stars became much more abundant, and the moon dominated the sky. Lux did not say anything more on the subject of foolish mercy, but she could not stop thinking about it.
Council
It had not taken long for Southresh to find what he required. The possessed old woman had brought him a human she had located at the edge of the destruction zone they had created within Philadelphia. The man was a policeman. He had been patrolling the perimeter of that area when she found him, hoping to keep out civilians who might, through curiosity, endanger themselves.
The old woman now bore several bullet holes in her chest due to the policeman’s reluctance to go with her. Nevertheless, he had not escaped. She thrust him to the ground on his knees before Southresh.
The angel lifted the officer by his arm, silencing his protests with a fist across the jaw, breaking his mandible in several places. He did not speak again.
“Go,” Southresh said to the old woman, “find a new host before that body dies of your wounds. Else you will return to the void.”
She nodded and then left quickly to accomplish the task before her body expired.
Southresh had no questions to be answered of the policeman. He did not ask if he were a virgin, or pure of heart. He suspected neither would be true anyway. He required only the man’s lifeblood.
A brackish pool of water had gathered in the wake of a recent storm. The water was almost black. Southresh held the man aloft over the water, making a quick slashing motion with his fingers that opened the man’s carotid on the left side of his neck. He dropped the struggling man into the large puddle and waited.
The man thrashed for a few moments, still only half conscious from the blow to his face. All the while he bled out steadily into the water. In a few moments his movements calmed down and eventually stopped completely. The black water took in his blood, becoming even murkier.
Southresh ignored the man’s body, instead peering into the pool. “Council me, my brother,” he said and then spoke Black’s true name in a tongue no human could understand.
The bloody water stirred, taking form. A face appeared indistinct, pushing through the surface, its features like a crimson statue. These features animated, the mouth opening to speak.
“Why have you summoned me?” Black’s voice came from the face.
Southresh realized that Black would not be able to see him, only to hear his voice and respond. “Lucifer has bridged the gap between our prison and the mortal world,” he said.
“You have been released, my brother?” Black asked.
“I have, but also Anubis and Hageddon,” Southresh confirmed.
“Strange that I was not.”
“Strange?” Southresh asked. “Your long rivalry with Lucifer is why you remain imprisoned.”
Black did not answer immediately. “Why seek my council, if you serve Lucifer?”
“We are bound to the life of his progeny, Grayson Stone,” Southresh spat. “Yet our work is to cause chaos and death among the mortals—the humans and Descendant clans. He hopes to turn the mortals to him by vanquishing us one by one.”
Black laughed gently to himself. “Your time must be drawing near.”
“I would assume,” Southresh said grudgingly. “I do not wish to return to Tartarus. How can I remain free? I knew you would have an answer, brother.”
“Yet, I am still bound in that prison,” Black said. “What answer could I give?”
“Do not patronize me, Black,” he answered. “I know you to be one of our wisest, second only to Lucifer himself. You must know of a way.”
Black paused. “Perhaps.”
Silence.
“Well?” Southresh insisted. “I’m running out of time here.”
“It will not be easy, Southresh,” Black said. “You will need the others. Can you do that?”
Southresh considered it. He didn’t like having to ask for help from anyone. “Possibly,” he said. “This would benefit all of us. Surely, they must realize that the situation is the same for us all. They’ll have to help, if they want to remain free.”
“Then you will have to free me if you want to remain so,” Black countered.
“What are you talking about?”
“Do what Lucifer did to extend your spirits from this prison into the mortal world,” Black explained. “He anchors you to that world. You need an additional anchor so that, when he cuts ties, you all remain there. Bring me into the world to be that anchor.”
“But I don’t have the power to do that,” Southresh complained. “I’m not Lucifer.”
“That is why you will need the others,” Black said. “Together you have the power. We are brothers, bonded to one another in exactly the same way Lucifer is to you. That is how he could act as a conduit for you. That is how you must do the same for me.”
Silence.
“What will it be?” Black’s bloody mask asked from the puddle.
“I’ll go to them, delay Grayson’s sideshow while I do,” Southresh said. “I’ll make them listen.”
“When you do, you can dispense with the ritual,” Black said. “Just bring me through into a suitable host.”
The mask diminished, becoming only water and blood once more. Southresh looked around. He didn’t have any time to waste. Grayson was here in Philadelphia. He would be coming into the zone of Southresh’s destruction soon. He would have an audience with him so that his deeds would be known by all. He sent his thoughts out to his servant.
A few minutes later, the spirit which had been dwelling within the old woman returned. This time with a new body—the body of a young man with shaggy blond hair. He wore the finery of a poor man.
“Yes, master?” the young man said.
“I must meet with my brothers in this world,” Southresh said. “If Grayson Stone comes into this part of the city, give him a show, but retreat when he seeks me.”
“Retreat?” the young man asked. “Lucifer will not be pleased. He will cut you off and us.”
“If he can’t find me to defeat me publicly then he won’t dismiss me,” Southresh said. “He wants a public display. If the mad god goes off unannounced, it will be no great surprise. He’ll wait for me to resurface so that he can perform for the humans as planned. I need time to accomplish our freedom.”
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The young man nodded. “I will do as you require.”
Southresh grinned. “For our mutual freedom.” A gout of flame erupted from the ground and dissipated to nothing, taking Southresh with it.
Presidential
Grayson awaited the arrival of Benjamin Harrison with his usual good patience. He sat by the fireplace, enjoying a cup of Earl Grey tea. The snow had stopped a day before and the temperature had started it melting. Spring would not be far behind.
Soon, the President’s procession of three carriages arrived on the drive to Grayson’s rented home. Hoofs clopped along the cobblestones and the coaches vibrated, until all stopped in front of the house. A retinue of men carrying rifles and armed with pistols escorted the man himself to the door.
The bell was rung. Barclay answered and led them inside. When the President arrived beneath the arch leading into his sitting room, Grayson stood, putting down the volume of Paradise Lost he had been reading.
“Mr. President,” Grayson said. “It’s so good to finally meet you face to face.”
He stepped forward and Harrison did the same, extending his hand to Grayson. They shook and Grayson invited him to come and sit with him by the fire. There was much to be discussed.
“You sent word to my office,” Harrison said. “You know how to defeat the evil things that have infested Philadelphia?”
“This is not happening only in Philadelphia, Mr. President,” Grayson explained. “In Russia and England and France these creatures have attacked.”
“I know,” Harrison said. “I’ve received communiqués from these nations already. But how did you know?”
“These are evil creatures that we are dealing with,” Grayson said. “They have come from a dimension beyond our own. They are devils inhabiting the bodies of men.”