Peter was upset about his apartment getting blown to pieces. He had to stay in the next building over. Most of his things had been burnt to a crisp and his insurance almost declined to replace anything. It would take months for it to be repaired and Peter did not like that. You see, he owned that apartment complex, and many others across Manhattan. He went back to his apartment and took away any evidence that the fire was his fault. He told the insurance company it was a gas leak but he felt they might not buy that story after the NYPD did their investigation.
He had been getting calls and voicemails from his tenants about where they are going to stay. He had to occupy the empty properties he was saving to rent out to others.
Peter also had an urgent message from his advisor. Father Davis had something important to discuss. He had discovered some new information, which he could not disclose over the phone. Peter decided to go meet Father Davis.
In the afternoon hours, he cruised leisurely on his black and burgundy V-Rod Muscle through the Manhattan streets. He could see the civilians pointing and shouting at him while he passed them by. The commotion he started three days ago --the Marriot Hotel's explosion--had got him a lot of attention. Peter could have leaped across the buildings to not being notice, but he did not have the energy to do so. He was running low on energy and did not get much sleep because of the phone calls. He got to the church and removed his sunglasses before entering. He fixed his weapons and walked in.
“Peter, you made it,” a feeble voice said from the corner of the room.
He walked toward the old man and shook his hand.
“You are early. I did not expect you to get here so soon.”
“Yes. I was eager to hear what you had to say. Sorry it took me a day to return your call. What is so urgent, Father Davis?”
“Come, come. Let us retreat to my quarters,” Father Davis said as he shuffled to the lobby awkwardly.
Peter noticed he was acting a bit strange and it puzzled him. He noticed that his heart rate was rushing in his chest. He had known him for years and he always read Father Davis well. The eighty-year-old priest never gave him a reason to not trust him.
When they sat down on the front row of the church, the father said, “I received some terrible news from a brother a few days ago. He told me Gabilon is here in New York City.”
“I heard about that also. I ran into Demeekur two nights ago.”
“Demeekur?” the priest’s words were perplexed. “She paid you a visit? Why?”
“A visit that did not go so well. I can still smell my things burning to a crisp. She wanted me to join the cause again.”
The priest chuckled.
“Why is Gabilon here? Is he looking for me?” Peter sounded worried.
“I’m not sure, but I think he is here on a different mission. I am not certain what it is, but I know he brought some strange kind of metal and energy from Sheol. The energy is called Vipoplasm, and the metal is Puranium. Vipoplasm is a form of energy from the dark world. I don’t understand it, but it is supposed to be powerful.”
“Vipoplasm?” The Demon Slayer looked away to think. “I’ve heard about it before. It is an infinite energy that is used for fueling demonic weapons with power. From what I recall, it cannot be used here on earth.”
“I thought so too, but Gabilon and Dabney Garrison are using it to organize an army on earth.”
“What?” Peter’s eyes bulged. “An army? What are you talking about?”
Father Davis sat back and rubbed the back of his neck. He massaged it because it was a bit stiff. “Puranium is used to make weapons and can harness an insufficient amount of energy like Vipoplasm. This energy is called Ninoplasm—a white energy that can create an eruption when it collides with a hard surface.”
Peter remembered the weapon that Celina had fired at him and was certain it was the same kind. ‘Yes, of course…’
“The army was in development for a number of years, and I heard a rumor that a man was seen wearing the armor the night the orphanage was burned down. I heard also that this armor could harness Ninoplasm.”
“What else can you tell me about this armor?” Peter asked eagerly. “What is the armor for?”
“The armor is made to battle the angels on the Second Coming. I heard they have five thousand of them.”
The Demon Slayer gasped. He had never heard of a hellish army on earth or met the man in the Puranium armor. ‘An army of five thousand?’ He wondered how he would be able to battle an army with infinite energy all by himself.
“Gabilon has taken the identity of powerful businessman—William Van Crouzer. There will be a seminar in a few days.” Father Davis could see the unawareness look in Peter’s face.
The priest closed his eyes and rested his head on the chair. “A demon attacked a school a couple of days ago, seeking the book of Enoch. Luckily, a bishop warded it off. I think it was also seeking the remains of Saint Ignatius, the last key to opening the kingdom of heaven.”
“Luckily, it’s hidden here. Have any demons attacked here?”
“No, not yet. Hopefully they don’t. I have been guarding it for thirty years.”
Peter thought about the demonic army and Gabilon’s motives. If what the priest said was true, he couldn’t stop them alone. “Yeah, hopefully…”
“You have to go to the seminar to see what Gabilon is plotting.”
Peter nodded, “Indeed.”
Chapter 7
My Brother’s Keeper
Claudius walked through the sewers of New York City. He could hear the vehicles and citizens above as he walked through the dark tunnels. The route was not a pleasant one. He was heading back to the Order of Darkness headquarters to tell them of his status on capturing the man in the demonic armor. The Order of Darkness was a secret organization. It was hidden underground and had a secret entrance in the lower part of Brooklyn. The subway led to the tunnels, and a hidden path led to the sewers.
On his way home, Claudius was thinking about the beautiful young lady he had rescued a day ago. He wished he could meet up with her again. Right after he finished saving her, he went ahead and watched the play she was in. Claudius never grew tired of watching Dawn McCarthy. He knew for sure that she was making eye contact with him last night because when he smiled at her, she smiled back at him. He remembered the warm feeling—and his heart had skipped a beat.
Something got Claudius’ attention ahead of him. He saw a silhouette figure leaning against the brick wall as he moved closer to his destination. Though the tunnel was dark, Claudius recognized the person with his keen eyesight.
“You’re late, Claude,” the person said with a Russian accent. “Your father is worried about you.”
Claudius recognized his voice immediately. He glared at the fellow and said, “What do you want, Nate? Did Father sent you for me?”
“Yes. What took you so long to return? And where is the S-5 antibiosis?” He folded his hands over his chest.
Claudius hissed and walked by Nathan.
Nathan Rasputin had been born in Hartford, Connecticut, to an African-American mother and a Russian father. Nathan was a descendant of Grigori Rasputin, a Russian mystic who was also called the Mad Monk. Nathan’s mother died giving birth to him, and his father abandoned him in Russia when he was five. He was convicted at thirteen, and was sentence to be trained as a soldier by a special Russian armed force because of a few petty crimes he had committed. Two years later, he was sent back to his birth country. He wandered the streets of New York until he met Dabney Garrison, and was offered a position as an antibiosis knight. Nathan was only sixteen when he joined the Order of Darkness. After five years, Nathan was a full-fledged knight.
“The other knights declared you the best hunter—and this is your third night out this week. Still, you have not returned with Zack or his S-5 weapon. Why are you wasting our time?”
“Shut up, Nate. Mind your own business. Just because you are the captain of the Naraka Knights, it doesn’t m
ean you can give me orders.”
Nathan grabbed his shoulder but Claudius turned to face him and threw his hand aside. Though Nathan was four inches taller than Claudius—and built like a UFC fighter—he did not intimidate him.
One thing that really bothered Claudius was that the knights had matured from teens to adulthood faster than he did. He remembered being taller than Nathan a few years ago and within a few months Nathan hit a growth sprout. The others did too. Claudius still looked like a teenager. Claudius noticed that Nathan had been acting mouthier to him now that he was bigger and stronger. ‘He seemed to have forgotten his place.’
Nathan said, “Oh yeah? I’ve wanted to teach you a lesson for a long time. Since no one is around, let’s settle our little problem from a year ago.” He unbuttoned his white and gold uniform, which was modeled on a historic French military uniform with six dime-sized gold buttons and stripes on his shoulders to show his rank in the Order.
When Nathan opened his shirt, on his chest, he revealed a symbiotic alloy that is called the Tesla 1. The metal, which took on the shape of a phoenix, looked organic and seemed to be animated on his chest. The symbiotic alloy could transform his body in a shroud of armor that he can use to battle Claudius.
“Bring it on,” Claudius said as his hands began to blaze away in flames.
“Let’s go, tovarisch.” Nathan prepared to activate his Tesla 1 weapon.
“Enough!” A loud voice echoed in the tunnel behind Claudius. A man walked toward them out of the shadows. His pace was steady and confident with his hands rested on his lower back.
When Nathan realized who it was he quickly buttoned his shirt as the man walked closer.
“Father—” Claudius mumbled. He turned and bowed his head in respect.
“Not another word. Where is the weapon, Claudius?” Dabney Garrison asked.
Nathan bowed toward Garrison; dropped to one knee.
Garrison was a six foot six man. He was from Eastern Europe but his family had African roots. He began to lose his hair at an early age and always had a shaved head. His dark brown eyes were bold and he had a grim look on his face most of the time. He was the leader of the Order of Darkness and the adopted father of Claudius. To show his rank in the Order, he wore a black French military uniform, black gloves, and black boots.
“I’m sorry, Father, but—”
“You have failed yet again,” Garrison interrupted, his posture showed confidence when he stood before Claudius. “Is this girl distracting you?”
Claudius looked over at Nathan and saw that he found something quite amusing. “I’m not sure who you are talking—”
“Don’t play stupid, boy. Your distractions have caused the Order a lot of time and effort. If I give you an assignment, I expect you to get it done. I’m giving you one more chance.”
“As you wish, Father. I will not return without the weapon.”
Claudius bowed then walked in Nathan’s direction.
When the lad walked by him, Nathan leaned inwards and whispered, “You’re lucky your daddy saved you. If he had come a little later, I would have mopped the floor with your sorry ass.”
Garrison was still standing with his hands behind him wondering what the two were conversing about.
Claudius stopped and anger clouded his face. He ignited a small flame in his right hand and he wanted to bathe Nathan in it. He shook his head and looked back at his father. He did not wish to do combat before him. He then dispelled the flame before he dashed off into the darkness.
Ella sat on her bed with Peter’s black coat. She hugged the coat and thought on how nice he had been to her by giving it to her to stay warm. Though her partner Sam Williams disagreed on his ethics she still thought he was a good man.
She found a business card in the pocket and was tempted to call him. She had found out the apartment that had exploded was his, but she did not say anything to Sam or the commissioner. If they found out that she knew where he was located, she would be in serious trouble. She might even lose her career. Ella could not betray the man who had saved her life.
“Mom, what are you doing with that old coat? Whose is it?” Randy asked as he walked into the room.
“It’s nothing, honey. Mommy was just remembering the past.” She cast the old coat on the other side of the bed as he startled her from her thoughts.
Randy held his pocketsize video game in his hand, as he looked at his mother in a questioned expression. He wondered why she was acting weird all of a sudden. The child also wondered if the coat belonged to his father.
Ella’s cellular phone rang and she reached to the other side of the bed to grab it. It was her partner calling her “Hey, Zahara. Are you asleep?”
“Sammy, it’s eleven o’clock. What do you want?”
“Am I disturbing you? Do you have company or something?”
“No … and not that it’s any of your business or anything. Why?”
“You must be thinking about the Demon Slayer again,” Sam said.
“Sam, come on. Cut it out!”
“Ah, it seems I have struck a nerve.”
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to hang up the phone.”
Sam giggled and held a silence for her to calm down.
Randy sat on the bed beside his mother and his focus shifted back to his hand held gaming device.
“Honey, aren’t you tired?” Ella asked as she rested a hand on his back. “I know it’s not a school night, but Uncle Sendhil promised to take you to see your cousins this weekend. You need to get some rest to wake up on time in the morning.”
“I know, Mom, but I can’t sleep. I keep having nightmares about the monster from school.”
“Honey, we will talk later. Let me finish talking to Sammy and I will come and tuck you in, okay?”
Randy gave his mother a kiss on the cheek.
“What is the kid talking about?” Sam asked. “What monster?”
Ella rubbed her hand through her hair and exhaled softly. “It’s a long story. What did you call me for, Sammy?”
“Did you hear about the seminar in Times Square tomorrow?”
“I heard something about it. Why?”
“Commissioner Windslou wanted me to ask you to attend it with us. The mayor was kind enough to invite us along with him. Even though you are on a week’s leave, the chief thought being out in public would help clear your mind.”
Ella knew her partner was right. She had being cooped up in her apartment and down in spirit since her kidnapping. She had wanted to return to work, but they insisted that she take some time off to clear her mind.
“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t feel—”
“Come on,” Sam interrupted. “It wouldn’t hurt to see what this new technology is about.”
Sam was playing Jazz in the background, and she giggled when she heard him humming the tune. “I guess you are right. I do need to get some fresh air. Thanks for keeping me posted on what has been going on at the station.”
Sam knew if he made her laugh, Ella could not resist. “Sweet. I will inform the commish. I will see you tomorrow at eleven.”
Near the Brooklyn Bridge
‘Wake up, Zack.’ A soft voice whispered to the young man as he slept in the abandoned hotel. He surprisingly opened his eyes, lurched forward, and looked around the room. He was in pitch-black darkness. Zack didn't mind the darkness; he seemed to have gotten accustomed to it after spending over a month in it. He was only there at night, during the day he lingered at various parks.
Zack reached inside his pocket and pulled out a lighter. Fear was surging through him as he desperately flickered the gauge to get it going.
Zack held the lighter out and squinted. “Who’s there?”
No one answered.
He wondered if he was hearing things again, he often hear voices in his head, warning him of possible danger. He wondered if it was the symbiotic weapon he held in his possession— a weapon he was learning to understand. He rubbed his eyes and lay ba
ck on the dirty mattress to think about the young man that was pursuing him. Zack wondered if Claudius was close and if that was why the voices were warning him. ‘It was never wrong’
His eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness and he was glad the cars that were passing by headlights reflected on the third floor so he could see; just in case someone was trying to attack him.
A year ago, a specialist told Zack Morris he had less than a month to live. He was surprised he was still alive. He learned later that the antibiosis on his back was keeping him alive. Stygain 5 had kept the young man alive for that long. The antibiosis was more than just a weapon to Zack.
One night, Zack heard a warning in his sleep. When he awakened, Garrison was in his dwelling. Garrison and a few other knights attempted to take the antibiosis. With his military training he managed to escape. Since then, he had been on the run. The voices in his head would warn him whenever someone posed a threat. Zack felt as if the S-5 weapon was communicating with him.
Zack could not sleep because the voices in his head kept telling him to ‘get up.’ He knew his conscience was never wrong, and he had learned to trust it. He decided to get some fresh air outside. He put on a black sweatshirt and a hat to cover his baldhead and departed for the fire escape.
The young man enjoyed the view of the full moon from the roof of the five-story building. He never grew tired of looking across the East River and admiring the moonlight reflecting on the river. When he was a boy living in Georgia, his family would take him to the mountains. At night he would camp outside and looked up at the moon.
Out of nowhere, Zack felt his condition starting to erupt. He fell to his knees from the severe pain. He reached under his T-shirt and activated the S-5 weapon on the upper part of his back. As soon as he pressed the activation switch, the devilish hard rubber-like scales and alloy tissue started to cover his body. The pain slowly left his body. After the transformation, he was covered in Puranium metal. A blue breastplate stretched across his chest, shoulders, and back. Vipoplasm fueled it.
Hellbound Second Advent Page 6