Pursuit of the Zodiacs

by Walsh, Nathan

  Noah pounded his gavel to restore order. “That’s enough! Aru, there will be no insults here. Everyone, we must come to a compromise.”

  Lucius, the Representative for Planet Mercury, signaled that he wanted to speak and was given the floor. “I must confess, I will not leave here contented knowing that my Planet is in jeopardy. The news alone will bring a greater tribulation than the Pursuit itself. This news will be like a cancer, and it will spread throughout the Galaxy. War between all of us will be certain again unless we come to a compromise, as the Honorable Chairman suggested.”

  Saturn, the Representative of the Planet Saturn, spoke next. “Representative Lucius is right. We must avoid war at all costs. We must prepare for whatever sacrifices that will suffice if Mosqidou succeeds. Even if I myself stand as one of those casualties, our job is to make sure we are right with God, so when the time comes, we will attain Immortality.”

  Ephron, the Representative for the People of the Moon, asked the question many were thinking. “Not to cast doubt here, but what if The Pursuers do not succeed? What shall become of this place if Lucifer succeeded in forming this alliance between the Zodiacs?

  Genesis said, “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. What if they don’t succeed? Are you serious?”

  Vaniah, the Representative from Pluto, added, “It’s a risk we all would have to take. I have to side with Lucius. There must be no word of this beyond these walls, or war is inevitable.”

  Chair Noah, the final arbiter of the Dark Graduates, spoke, “It’s settled. There will be no more word of this outside these walls. Anyone in violation will be considered a traitor and punishment, as we all know, will be death! We will await our fate. Your only job is to turn your heads from this Pursuit of the Zodiacs and leave it up to God.”

  All were in favor of the judgment except for Aru, Representative for the People of the Sun. Not pleased with his objection being overruled, he had to abide by the terms or forfeit his own life. The meeting of the Dark Graduates closed.

  BACK IN NEW YORK CITY

  Cancer, along with Levi, Simeon and Zodeen, exited the Gateway. However, their return home wasn’t what they expected. Half a mile away, Zodeen’s gift sprung into action. His danger sense resonated throughout his body. They snuck to the top of a hill, peered over it, and saw hundreds of Demons surrounding their hideout.

  Zodeen asked, “How is that possible?”

  Simeon answered, “Our traitor must have led them right to us.”

  Cancer interjected, “What? There’s a traitor amongst us? When was I going to be informed?”

  Levi whispered, “Shhh! I hear combat. We must help our Brothers!”

  As Levi stood up, Simeon grabbed his arm. “Hold on, I have the perfect weapon for this situation.”

  Simeon froze time, and everything around him stood motionless as he sketched his weapon of choice on his shield. After his End of Time Gift expired, a portal formed, and he pulled his work of art out of his shield.

  Cancer commented, “I must admit that’s somewhat impressive.”

  The four stealthily approached their first victims, then standing guard. Zodeen pushed a button on the handle of his weapon, releasing a blade half the length of an average sword with weird dialect and symbols surfacing from its core. One by one, Zodeen carved his signature “Mark of Death” into his victims. Anywhere he carved the mark, his victim’s body would detonate.

  Gifted with the ability to control Earthly matter, Levi commanded the trees to consume the Demons. On his command, they were given life, and the sight alone instilled paralyzing fear in the Devils. The roots of the trees appeared from everywhere, sucking the Demons into the ground and into their mouths. The trees were completely covered in Demon blood.

  Simeon punished his enemies with his newly designed nunchakus: two long blades bound by short a gold chain. With his unorthodox fighting technique, he cut through his opponents.

  Cancer teleported from one Demon to the next, submitting shockwaves powered by the Full Moon.

  After the melee, they arrived in the back of the safe house.

  Levi said, “What excellent work. Let’s join our Brothers and have these Devils witness our power. Simeon, you take the balcony. Zodeen, you take that window. Cancer, you come with me.”

  Levi and Cancer headed through a secret door to the basement. They dismantled the Demons within range and continued through the house. Simeon eliminated all the Demons in his path with unquestioned firepower generating from his special gun. Zodeen used a golden spear, another tool used to carve his Mark of Death.

  WASHINGTON D. C.

  Taurus, Pisces, Zen, and Demetrius entered Washington D.C. with the help of another Gateway. Taurus relieved his other minions of their duties so that they could attend to more pressing matters surfacing in the Judgment Realm. They arrived just in time to witness a protest outside the gates of the White House.

  “This World is run by a handful of miserable old men who worship Lucifer and seek genocide. We outnumber them a billion to one! Let’s remove these bastards from power!” In protest, a woman ranted in her microphone in the midst of other protestors and followers.

  They accused the government of refusing to release information. In addition, they believed their Constitutional rights were being diminished each day. The leader of the protest continued, “We’re on to your bullshit! You don’t have the right to play God with your project blue beams, your alien secrecies, your secret societies, your chemical trails, and your mad scientists. What’s wrong with you people? Get these murderers out of office!”

  Zen commented, “Should we eliminate the threat?”

  Taurus answered, “No, this one must be left alone. Let’s continue.”

  To elude the angry mob, they’re escorted through the back gates to a secret underground entrance of the White House where the President of the United States anticipated their arrival.

  As the limousine drove through the gates, Taurus spoke to Pisces. “Prior to pursuing the Scroll, I was summoned to report here. Of course, I had to take it upon myself not to make an appearance empty-handed. A decision worth the time sacrificed.”

  Pisces asked, “So, who summoned you?”

  Taurus answered, “The President. But he only stands as a messenger. From whomever he takes orders will remain unknown, even to us.”

  Zen mused, “This should be interesting.”

  They exited the limousine in a classified underground cave only to see extraterrestrial guards, reptilian life forms and familiar Demon faces. They readied for something big. The First Lady, Mary Vitzoma, greeted them in her true Reptilian form. She had dark black eyes. Her skin was rough and green as the skin of an avocado. Her height had to be at least seven feet tall. There were forty more just like her stationed in the vicinity, along with different species from all over the Universe working together, as they have for centuries. They walked past more extraterrestrials and engineers fixing advanced interstellar war craft and special tanks, too focused on their occupation to notice the new guests.

  Taurus said, “Wow, you’ve been busy since the last time I visited.”

  Mary added, “Yes, but there is still a lot more work to do.”

  Pisces wandered off before Taurus fully introduced her to the First Lady. Her artistic nature blew her away. “There must be tunnels from all ends of the World linked to this place. And the aircraft are amazing.” Taurus retrieved the staggered Zodiac.

  Taurus said, “Pisces, if you will, we have a very important meeting to attend. You will receive a full tour momentarily.”

  The First Lady embraced Pisces with a smile and arched down to hug her. “Pleasure to meet you, my Dear. May we proceed to the gathering?”

  Pisces replied, “Yes, please … after you.”

  As they followed the First Lady, adversaries took advantage of the numerous underground admissions of the White House and deceived security with hologram disguises. They emerged onto the scene with heavy laser automatic guns, and opened fire
on their objective.

  “Incoming!” someone yelled.

  Taurus shouted, “Shit!”

  Zen yelled over to Taurus, “Who the fuck are these guys!”

  Everyone sought cover. The seven assailants came well-prepared.

  The group consisted of two humanoids, and the rest were from unknown Worlds. They aimed and fired upon the First Lady and her guards. Special tanks, weapons and craft were also destroyed. The damages accumulated along with bodies. The aliens dodged and scurried to their weapons as more security finally entered the vicinity. Lasers entered and escaped their bodies. Burnt limbs, blood and debris rained down, but the outstanding number of secret service Demons and alien forces overpowered and mutilated the would-be assassins. They apprehended the two assassins who survived and were taken away for questioning, and most likely tortured. Despite the outcome, the sacrifice had not been in vain. The First Lady perished in combat.

  Meanwhile, at a busy train terminal in New York City, a messenger appeared before him and said, “Sagittarius, stop! Your services are needed elsewhere.”

  Stopped in his tracks, Sagittarius did not like what he had heard. Prior to his encounter with the messenger, he received a tip concerning Ozias’s whereabouts and was on his way to settle things. His vendetta would have to wait. The messenger gave him his new coordinates.

  Sagittarius noted, “Las Vegas? This should be interesting.”

  A sense of foreboding interrupted him. He suspected that someone was following him. He advanced towards the train’s exit and reached outside the station. His pursuers increased in numbers. Under the night sky, the park was a good place to cover ground. The winds started to pick up. It created a deafening hissing noise that threw the Zodiac’s hearing off. He continued his tread deeper into the depths of the park.

  A dark figure approached. “Go no further, Zodiac.”

  Sagittarius responded, “Who are you people? And, why are you following me?”

  The man came out of the shadows. Rashad was partially healed, but vengeance fueled his visit. He planned on eliminating as many Zodiacs as he could in retribution for Asad and Farooq. Sagittarius was the first on Rashad’s radar.

  Rashad replied, “The answer to that question is irrelevant. I’ve witnessed your actions in the past. Not even repentance can reform them. You must be destroyed, Devil. Farewell.”

  Rashad disappeared back into the dark; and his militia, who at first posed as beggars, got to work. With his impenetrable wings, he covered up while ammunition from silenced automatic weapons rained down upon him. Rashad assumed that the park would be precisely to where the Zodiac would stray.

  “You’ve done your homework, Rashad. How did you know he would enter the park?” One of his soldiers probed as they both entered an unmarked vehicle.

  Rashad replied, “Common sense. Not only have I been studying the Zodiacs themselves, but reading their Horoscopes as well. It is a gift and a curse that must be used to our advantage. The real question is this: Is it more of a gift than a curse? … We shall see.”

  His soldier remarked, “Hmm. That’s strange. My watch. It stopped.”

  Rashad replied, “Yes, I’m aware. It’s been a quarter past nine ever since Sagittarius and I shared words.”

  Sagittarius scurried to a ditch big enough for cover and unleashed heavy firepower of his own. Along with his ability to stop time came his ability to anticipate his enemies’ movements. The silence broke as Sagittarius made his retaliation loud and clear, hitting everything that moved in the park, even birds plummeted to the ground. Bystanders ran for their lives.

  Rashad’s men fell right before his eyes. They fell from the trees, some slumped over benches, and some lay face-down into the grass. Limbs, blood and pieces of flesh decorated the park. Rashad’s strategy deteriorated, and he radioed in for his remaining men to withdraw. Still suffering from his injuries, he wished nothing more than to intervene and help his militia, but withdrew. Rashad told his driver to depart as they came under fire.

  Rashad vowed, “I will seize my revenge, Devil. All the walls of Hell will crumble. I offer you this promise.”

  The distant sounds of sirens signaled the approaching police. The remaining members of Rashad’s militia had only moments to pick up the injured and dead and disappear before they arrived.

  Injured again, his wings could only take so much punishment. Too damaged to fly, he disposed of his weapon and staggered away from the scene, far enough so that the police couldn’t connect him to the carnage left behind.

  NATENAL’S DREAM

  “It’s here, my big breakthrough,” Nathan, an art student at William’s Middle School, thought to himself.

  The Annual Freestyle New York Art exhibit had arrived in his hometown, and he had his best work displayed in his favorite section of the exhibit. Judges, tourists, art majors, teachers, fans, supporters, reporters and anyone and everyone else with an interest in art attended. They combed the exhibit looking for fresh new talent.

  Nervously, Nathan awaited the reviews. Regardless of the outcome of the night, he was just happy to be a part of the whole experience. Nathan walked around looking at the other entries and acknowledged fellow schoolmates who participated in the big event. There were also rumors of the great Izakiah Gretcha attending the exhibit. He was responsible for the controversial painting of his version of “The Last Days,” an artistic rendering of how the World will end. Art collectors had offered millions for his controversial paintings, but they weren’t for sale at any price. Furthermore, no stranger to meeting death, all of the would-be assassins in the past had perished by the hands of his expert security. With his huge following, most accused him of being the Anti-Christ or a Cynic.

  Security scanned the perimeter as if the President himself had announced his involvement. Not one entrance stood without the presence of a metal detector, and almost the entire NYPD was posted outside the exhibit.

  “Well, I certainly feel safe,” Nathan joked to himself.

  “He’s here!” His friend and a great many others shouted frantically.

  “Who? Obama?” asked Nathan.

  “No, silly!” She answered. “Izakiah fucking Gretcha!”

  “Oh, shit!” Stricken with even more anxiety, he hurried back to his booth to make sure everything was properly set up. Others glimpsed at the art legend as he approached the exhibit.

  “Come on, you’re the man!” Nathan said to himself. Izakiah Gretcha was his idol. He strongly felt that they both shared similarities in style. Though rebellious, his art revolutionized the imaginative World, whether the next man believed in his theories or not. To him, Izakiah wasn’t afraid to put his balls out there in addition to all the plots against his life. That’s the mark of a true artist.

  “Today is the day,” Izakiah Gretcha said.

  “My apologies, Sir, but please explain,” Michael, the head of security requested.

  “I will share the news later, Brother. Come let us, enter,” Izakiah replied.

  Paparazzi and reporters desperately tried getting a word and more photos in before the doors slammed shut behind them. Moments later, Izakiah Gretcha departed from their viewing pleasure.

  “Come on, Nathan. Get it together! Today is your big fucking break!” Nathan commanded himself.

  He saw his idol closing in. Nathan stood confidently. Izakiah’s stare said it all. Determined, he scanned through each student’s painting thoroughly, but kept on moving as if in a race against time. Meanwhile, on high alert, Michael and the rest of his security monitored the area.

  He approached Nathan’s paintings, and his eyes fastened on one particular canvas that displayed “An Archangel Slaying a Serpent inside of the White House.”

  Izakiah’s face transitioned to amazement, and the controversial painter spoke in strange tongues. The only words that they could understand were, “My God, this is it!” Izakiah announced. “This is the final painting to my anthology.”

  He checked his watch, and with an accomplis
hed look on his face whispered, “It’s time.”

  “What?” Michael replied. Nathan realized that his watch was stuck on the exact time that Izakiah walked into the museum.

  “That’s weird.” Nathan looked at the clocks in the museum, all suffering the same malfunction.

  Izakiah embraced Michael and spoke, “Remember when I said today is the day, Brother?”

  “Yes sir, what did you mean?” Michael asked.

  “The beginning and an ending,” Izakiah answered. He pointed to Nathan, “Beginning.” He placed his right hand on his heart, “Ending.”

  They heard the piercing of glass. Half of Izakiah’s face landed on the floor, his body lifelessly collapsed, but Michael caught him mid-way through. Not fully grasping what had happened, and in a state of shock, Nathan uttered, “Izakiah.”

  Screams echoed and bounced off the walls of the museum. People trampled over one another towards the jammed fire exits.

  Michael gently laid Izakiah’s dead body on the floor and grabbed a terrified Nathan.

  “Get down, child!” Michael shouted, as more piercing bullets crisscrossed through the exhibit hall, preying on the innocent. He covered Nathan with his own body and encouraged him to stay down, for he was the ‘Beginning’ of an untold prophecy.

  Nathan lay there stunned. Looking through the gap of his cover, he saw Izakiah’s blood-drenched body. Everything appeared to happen so fast, but everything moved in slow motion, like dreamtime. An evil supremacy infected the museum. Covered in Izakiah’s blood, Michael and Nathan scrambled for more shelter behind a row of statues.

  Across the street, in an unmarked building, the sniper abandoned his gun and fled as police closed in on him. He shouted in the blood-drawn night, “It is done!”

  He jumped off the roof of the building, but the police never recovered his body.

  Michael got up, comprehending no immediate danger, and grabbed Nathan’s hand. “Come, child. Something needs to be done. I refuse to let him die in vain.”

  Not what he intended, but Nathan seized his breakthrough.