by Keith Holmes
Ethan crouched in a posture divided between retreat and a charge. Half of him feared that sword. The other half knew that only a few steps in reverse would put him past his baby girl’s doorway and that he would defend with his life. But Elihu wasn’t paying Ethan much heed. The man’s dark eyes shifted back and forth, his head tilted slightly as though he were listening for a sound. Without turning eyes toward Ethan he spoke, his voice a soothing whisper.
“I am called Elihu Mr. Moyer. In a moment you’ll know why I am here.”
Ethan stared, confused by the introduction. He was about to demand answers when Elihu suddenly spun about. A sound had begun to resonate through the apartment, like the sound of skittering insects filling the home to its ceilings. The noise started in low and it sent chills through Ethan’s body as it droned higher.
The young father steadied himself and noted that Elihu had turned his back on him. If there was a time to attack, it was now… but the growing sound had set him on edge. In the dim light, bodiless shadows began to form, seeping in as though they were bleeding through the walls.
Elihu clutched the grip of his sword so tightly that his knuckles cracked. Ethan wondered at the insidious silhouettes. The insect sound grew closer and he realized they were whispers of some language he didn't know. Suddenly Elihu spun around and shouted.
"The Child!"
The moment the words left his lips, shadowy arms, Leper-white and crooked, burst from one of the shadows on the wall and grabbed Elihu by the throat. Still his eyes were upon Ethan, pleading that he go check on his daughter. As Elihu clawed at the limbs about his collar he swung an arm toward Catee's room. Somehow Ethan snapped from his frozen dread and threw himself into his little girl's doorway.
She was sleeping, completely unaware of the horror that clung to the ceiling above her. It snapped its head toward Ethan when he arrived and pulled back thin, wormlike lips to reveal rows of needle-teeth. The thing was pale-white and gaunt. It was nude and resembled a small man in some ways, though its facial features were far from anything human.
Sickly yellow eyes dotted with black, sunken deep in its hairless skull so that they looked larger than they should. Its mouth was a maw, its long, spindly fingers and toes tipped in nasty, yellow claws. As if by some dark miracle, it stood, feet planted against the wall above Catee's bed. In its hands it held a large, black, silk bag that it was trying to place over the sleeping child.
"HEY!" Ethan screamed, pushing aside the horror in his heart to quell the threat against his daughter. The creature's slavering head made paces between he and Catee before deciding to continue with its work. Ethan charged.
He took hold of the creature's arm and it hissed. Adrenaline pumped through the young construction worker's veins as he took hold of clammy flesh, ripped it from the wall and threw the heavy thing across the room. A flimsy bookshelf crumbled as it slammed into it but the creature was unfazed. It found its feet with supernatural speed and before Ethan could focus fully on the blur of movement, he felt it spear him to the ground. His head met the square leg of Catee's bed, and gashed open. The wind left him instantly and in that same instant the monster was atop him, ripping and tearing. Somehow Ethan managed to take it by the wrists to avoid its slashing claws but the beast was like a feral dog, its neck stretching toward the young father's face to snap his throat in its filthy maw. Ethan twisted and fought, but even as strong as he was, he realized that he was facing a strength far beyond anything he'd ever known. It pinned his hands by his head and then paused to look into his eyes. Its lips curled back and it spoke.
"Ngliech d' trybthe," it rumbled, the massive rows of teeth in its mouth causing the words to twist and strain against the ear.
Ethan looked up to the monster, horrified and struggling with all his might when suddenly the creature grew still and began to smile. Its maw opened wide and a thick, black, segmented tendril, the monster's tongue, writhed from behind those rows of needles. Then it leaned slowly forward.
The monster released Ethan's hand and grasped his jaw, wedging it open. Ethan balled his fist and launched a punch into the side of his captor's head only to meet with the bottom row of teeth, ripping the flesh from his knuckles. As the pain of the cut began to register in his mind the monster's sickening tongue darted forward. Ethan tried to close his jaw, bearing his own teeth as a threat but at the last moment, that disgusting 'tongue' darted forward and punched into the center of his forehead instead. It was as if it were a bore, drilling through his already sundered skin and into his skull.
Ethan's eyes rolled back into his head and he felt darkness closing in. His body tensed as the tendril dug deep and in vain he convulsed against the monster's weight. Out of breath, in pain, his eyes grew heavy until finally he couldn't open them anymore.
"DADDY!!!!"
Catee was on her knees, upon her bed, reaching to him as though she were on an island and he was a drowning man. He looked up to see Elihu standing over him, the monster's throat in his big hand. A sickening crack echoed through the room as he dislocated the creature's neck. He discarded the lifeless thing across the room before taking a knee over the young father and grasped Ethan's cheek as the monster had, inspecting.
Ethan quickly slapped the hand away and twisted from Elihu's grip. The big man left his stare on the young father for a moment more before shaking his head.
"LEAVE NOW!"
Ethan leapt to his feet and swooped Catee into his arms. Two more shadows emerged from the wall to block the doorway. Elihu charged and cleared a path. Ethan burst into the hallway and down it.
"TARA!" he cried. Catee wrapped in his arms, he found his wife, frightened and cowering in a corner. He ran to her and snatched her up by the wrist.
"Ethan what's going on?" she pleaded.
"We have to go!" he hurried and then burst back into the hallway. Elihu's battle had pushed back into Catee's room. The way was clear save for what seemed like a thousand disembodied shadows skittering across the walls. Ethan took a deep breath. The distance was short. The apartment wasn't big. But at that moment it seemed a thousand miles to the front door.
"COME ON!" Ethan shouted, more to motivate himself than his wife or daughter. And then he threw himself forward. The whispers grew louder as they jetted down the hallway, the shadows just corporeal enough to rake across their flesh, like running through spider webs, leaving behind the irritating clinging.
Ethan flung open the front door to the apartment and was about to run through it when a great crash thundered behind him. He turned to see Elihu wrapped in a mass of the horrible things, gnawing and chewing and ripping at his flesh. The big man looked to the young father and shouted.
"GO! ASA IS WAITING FOR YOU!"
Ethan gasped when he saw one of those creatures sink its disgusting teeth into Elihu's throat. The fighter in him beckoned him to go back and help. But the little girl in his arms and the beautiful woman at his side demanded they escape.
He saw Elihu take the creature by the head, ripping it away before they raced to the stairs. Ethan flung open the door only to find that the stairwell was beginning to 'bleed' with shadows as the apartment had. They descended, wiping at their faces as they charged through invisible webs, but at the final landing Tara lost her feet.
The young mother fell forward. She was moving so fast that she cleared every step and caught herself with her hands just before the exit door. A sickening crunch sounded as the bones in her wrist gave way and her hand folded awkwardly under. She howled with pain as Ethan and Catee caught up, but she'd have no time to nurse the wound. Ethan dipped a hand around her waist and helped her back to her feet. In the same movement he kicked the door open and they raced out into the cold.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"HERE!" Asa shouted, waving the family toward the open side door of an old work van. Quickly they filed in and Asa slammed it closed then sprinted around the front of the van and leapt inside; ripping it down into gear.
“Is everyone okay?" he blurted.
> The trio looked to him for a moment, huddled in the back of his van like refugees of some war-torn home. Assessing that they were alive; the important part really, Asa turned to make the sharp corner that exited their apartment complex.
“Hold on!” He issued the warning already halfway through the curve. Braced as best they could, the Moyer’s slid into the van’s cold wall and clung to each other.
After a few more sharp, body-slinging turns the road became more forgiving and Ethan and Tara’s hearts began to calm. Catee sat atop her knees in her father's lap. Ethan, knuckles still bleeding, looked to Tara who cradled her broken wrist and whimpered. But Catee, usually keen to anyone's pain, paid her mother's no heed. Instead she took her father's face in her hands and her little brow drew down.
"You be okay daddy," she promised. Ethan shook his head a little before he realized that the little girl was starting to glow. Once he recognized what she was doing he quickly twisted his face from her palms.
"No!" he spat, harsher than he'd intended. He softened his squared jaw as he looked to his little girl. "No baby."
"You hurt Daddy," she pointed out. He looked to his knuckles which, had finally stopped bleeding.
"I'll be fine," he promised and then sat her at her mother's side. Then he knee-crawled to the driver's seat and leaned in to speak with Asa.
“There are some clothes back there for you. I didn’t know your size so I got sweats,” Asa offered.
“Where are you taking us?” Ethan asked. Both were suddenly distracted by a soft glow from the back and a little girl whimpering. Ethan gritted his teeth. Their conversation paused until the light had passed.
“Someplace safe," Asa replied.
“Bullshit!” he spat. “You tell me where you’re taking us!”
An apologetic look filled Asa’s face. “Of course… I’m sorry. We’re going to the airport Mr. Moyer. We have to get you and your family to safety.”
“Whoa...,” Ethan protested, “We're not leaving Chicago.”
"You have to leave Chicago," Asa replied, exasperated. “I don’t think you understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
Asa’s head knelt forward a bit. But as he opened his mouth to speak, a ‘THUMP’ fell heavy upon the roof of the van. Both men’s heads darted upward as Asa groped after the heavy pistol in the passenger seat. “They’re following us!”
“YA THINK!?” Ethan quipped.
He darted to the back of the van and drew his family into his protective arms. Asa struggled with the large caliber pistol he’d finally captured while trying to drive. Whatever was atop the truck had begun pounding and scraping at its roof like an animal, mad with hunger. Long striations began forming in the thin steel above them as Ethan, Tara and Catee huddled together. The accidental discharge of Asa’s firearm into the dashboard jolted each of them even more than his erratic driving had done.
“I… I… I… ‘m not very good with…,” Asa stuttered.
Ethan scurried forward and snatched the gun from him. Tara quickly put her hands over Catee's ears as he aimed the gun toward the striations and fired several rounds.
All fell silent. Catee wrapped her arms in a vice around Tara's neck. Asa checked the mirrors. Ethan scanned the roof line left to right, listening for a clue. Finally someone spoke.
“I think you got it.”
Suddenly the windshield of the van exploded, a creature bursting through it feet first. Shards of glass showered through the van as the monster rocketed through. Its flailing arms sliced Asa’s head open diagonally across his eye. The rest of the motion was a darkened blur that ended with Ethan pinned against the back door.
Nearly unconscious, Ethan found that the monster was in his lap, faced away. Instinct brought his arms up, and somehow he locked the creature in a wrestling hold. Before the creature could resist, the van lurched to one side, sending the two of them into the wall. Ethan's head snapped up to find that Asa's head had rolled forward. He was out, his foot mindlessly pressing the accelerator.
“TARA! DRIVE!” Ethan shouted. Tara looked to him through wide, frightened eyes, and once the command registered, she cupped Catee to her body and stretched across Asa to take the wheel.
The monster was clawing forward, Ethan on its back. He knew that he wouldn't overpower it for long. And so he released his hold and began pounding at the back of its head. He felt helpless, his strongest blows not even enough to make the monster turn to deal with him. Rather the thing had one goal; to take the Argent Child.
"YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY LITTLE GIRL!" Ethan growled.
Tiny lips flitted against her mother’s neck as Catee muttered a nearly inaudible reply.
"Dorsta."
Tara slipped an arm beneath Catee as the little one tried to wriggle herself free but she couldn't hold her and drive too. Catee’s naked feet hit the floor softly; she fell to her knees, training her eyes on the struggle between the monster and her father. And then she spoke again, louder this time but with the same calm that almost always filled her tiny voice.
“Dorsta.”
The monster shrieked and began to writhe beneath Ethan as though it had been set ablaze.
"Anamtheya, dorsta. Lecea!"
Ethan continued his struggle to contain it, but it had become the fiercest of rodeo bulls, bucking him off as though he weighed nothing at all. Plumes of smoke began to rise from its suddenly sizzling flesh. As soon as the beast had risen to a crouch, it turned and thrust itself through the rear doors, screaming as it skidded down the asphalt.
“Misericordia, pia puella! Concedo!” It gurgled in pain.
Ethan watched in disbelief as the monster disappeared into an alley. He turned quickly to find that Tara was looking on stymied, a hand resting lazily at the wheel.
"DRIVE!" he screeched, but to his relief, Asa turned and looked back to him.
Catee was still upon her knees in the center of the van, a solemn look on her face. Quietly she made her way to her mother's lap and climbed into it. Ethan turned, tried to slam the van's doors closed but one was hopelessly sprung. A column of frigid air poured through the windshield and out it. And so the young father slid to the pile of clothes in the back of the van and began rifling through them. When he found a pair of sweats he thought might fit, he called to his daughter.
"C'mere baby. Put this on." It was as close to something normal as he'd experienced in the past several hours.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Gushing wind and chattering teeth filled the quiet van. Ethan hugged his family tight to share his warmth. He finally looked to Asa and spoke for the first time since the monster had come crashing in.
“How much farther?" Ethan asked.
“Almost there," Asa said, shivering.
Ethan’s chin quivered atop Tara’s head as the family huddled together. “What were they?”
“Faeries,” Asa said bluntly.
“What, like Disney?” Ethan replied.
"No. Not like Disney." He paused, his head aching as he tried to figure out how to encapsulate the hidden history of the Earth. "Long ago there was a war in Heaven."
Ethan shook his head instinctively but quieted himself. "Lucifer and his army fell. Some of them became dragons. Others saw the hubris of their ways and chose their own paths. They are the faeries: fantastic creatures neither good nor evil."
"So those things were faeries?"
"Yes. Corrupted faeries. Boggans twisted by dragon magic," Suddenly Asa sat up remembering something. "Make sure no one was bitten by one."
"Why?"
"They're 'sewers'. They can corrupt flesh," Asa explained.
"Meaning..."
"Like vampires or werewolves in the movies... if they bite you...." Asa explained.
Ethan gently touched his forehead and leaned back as the van began to slow.
"You said faeries didn't serve dragons," Ethan reminded as they made a turn through the gate of a security fence.
"They're called Unseelie: creatures who pay
a tithe to Hell." He knew he was using terms only familiar to people like him and shook his head. "Faeries don't have to serve evil but their lives on earth are much easier if they do. Some of them capture humans and feed them to the dragons as a tithe - like when you put money in the offering at church. Some serve in their armies." He navigated the van into a small airfield and pointed it toward the hangars near the end of the airstrip.
A sickening feeling returned to Ethan's stomach as he looked to the airplanes. He still didn't want to leave. "And the ones that don't?"
"They're still fallen angels. And fallen angels..., " Asa pulled the van to a stop and turned in his seat to look to Ethan. He found that Tara had joined in his audience.
“... are demons,” she added breathlessly.
Asa nodded as he looked to Catee who was struggling to return to sleep, her face buried in her mother’s bosom. His voice softened as Ethan turned to eye the small jet sitting inside the hangar they'd parked in.
"To some Catee is power, wealth, control. To others, like the dragons, her very existence offends them. She is the light to their darkness, a reminder that their enemy is still the one with all the true power and control. She is a balm to the world. And the infection doesn't like it one bit." He was thankful that he finally found the words.
Tara wasn’t ready for the truth that Asa offered. She was quick to her question. “How do you know for certain that Catee is an Argent Child”?
Asa smiled. "I don't think there's any doubt now, is there?"
Tara frowned, ready to wake up from this nightmare. Ethan quickly changed the subject.
“So, where are we going?”
Asa looked to Ethan, afraid that he might back out of this trip at any moment. “First to New York, then probably London. We have an ally there, a group of Priests that aid the Vigilant.”
Ethan’s lips tightened. everyone in the van was breathless for a moment as they awaited his decision. Without a word he simply opened the door and stepped out before extending a hand to help Tara. “Let’s go,” he offered.