Joseph parks his car in the closest alley, with the officer's help. Both go zizagging through the intense traffic riding the police bike. The rain seems to worsen by the minute. The cop show above averagre skill driving through the wet avenue until the traffic jam's start. Several accidents happened along the way.
The avenue is overcome by chaos. Drivers scream at each other, a biker is laying on the floor, protect by two colleagues who try to help him. A women is at the wheel of a stopped station wagion, speaking to herself with a confused look, next to an office worker who cries in his luxury car.
Several cars are abandoned and their respective drivers can be seen roaming aming the car lines. The immense traffic flow does not move. It's a mass of cars, accidents, screams and rain.
The bike skids in something viscous. The cop manages to avoid an accident, skillfully leaning his foot against an abandoned car to avoid falling completely. Some damage and scrapes, nothing major.
Joseph then shifts his attention to the substance on the ground and notices it is blood. Not only blood, the trail includes organ residue. He can distinguish intentine pieces. After removing the helmet, the smell is unberable. Even with the rain it is possible to smell stool, blood and death. It's terrible, Joseph has never seen an accident this ugly.
While the policemen readies the bike and tried to comunicate with someone through radio, Joseph, unable to resist his medical instincts, follows the morbid trail to two crashed cars. Despite his fear, the doctor that has already seen his share of horrors in emerging countries goes onwards, step by step.
The smells gets stronger and stronger until he needs to cover his nose with a tissue. Behind the first car, lying on their faces on the curb, are the bodies of a woman and her son. The tear to the mother's lumbar region has been so violent that her digestive tract was ripped out, looking like a kind of morbid sculpture. The son's skull is crushed. Bone shards, grey matter and hair litter the asphault. His little body is torn in half like someone did with their own hands and the rain transforms the scene into a bizarre picture of violence.
Joseph manages to distinguish bite marks. He asks himself what kind of monster would be capable of such an atrocity. Joseph has been in terrible places, but he has never seen anything like this. Something fed on those peole after killing them so cruelly; there were no crash scars on their bodies.
Joseph throws up after analysing the scene and runs awau, hitting his hip hard against a car. Halfway through he sees the officer who was looking for him.
— Are you OK, doctor? Looks like you've ssen a nightmare. Haven't you ever seen an accident in the rain? — The officer says, trying to lighten the mood despite the urban chaos.
— Let's go away, please. My head aches. — Joseph justifies himself. Omitting what he saw, since he could not see that again. It's his first failure as a doctor he knows. But in that horror lay irrational feelings that he was not used to having in situations such as this. Something told him to run.
Without asking anything, respecting the moment, the officer waits for Joseph to hop in behind him. It still rains a lot when the bike darts towards the traffic jam.
A feeling of concern towards Andreas overcomes him. A voice in his head keeps screaming": "Andreas is dead".
Angiolina's astral traveling conscience is taken far away. To another moment in space-time, she is thrown inside the highest floor at Nix observatory, days before her first vision. Still stunned, she hears:
— Warn the Blade, Seaman! Warn the Blade
The three scientists face big display screens when the oldest among them screams. Angiolina can identify only Melissa, who is frantically performing calculations in one of the auxiliary computers. The one she presumes to be Seaman stands up and reaches for the phone.
— May the Blade be ever sharp! — The man says, seriously. — I need to speak to the Tower.
The older looks at Seaman, watchfully, while he waits.
— We found an anomaly outside the solar system, ma'am, it's in a collision course towards Earth. Yes, it was exactly was foretold in the prophecies. What should we do?
— Yes, ma'am, we'll wait here. May the Blade be ever sharp. — Seaman concludes.
Angiolina is taken outside the observatory, once more her viewing from a vantage point. Far away she can see the lights of fast aproaching car headlights through the windy roads that lead to the Nix complex.
Chapter 6
The Impatient Andreas
Iara condominium consists of luxury apartments at the Jardins neighborhood, in São Paulo, one of those with men in black suits and tie running security. One of those with a huge marble-floored reception hall, with friendly receptionists that manage to pretend to like the tenants, aside from the invisible employees that toil hard to create the perfect home. All this structure, enough to surpass any six star hotel, to house some of the world's richest.
Joseph and Andreas had bought their magnificent million-dollars apartment after Ephemerae, an MMORPG focused on horror and Brazilian legends developed by WSB Entertainment, was chosen as game of the year.
It quickly became a sensation in the game market, with its art direction under Andreas' minucious hands. He earned millions. Beyond that, he received a millionary offer from WSB, becoming one of the richest people in the electronic game market.
Andras goes through reception in a hurry and jumps into the cab.
— Where to, sir? — The cab driver asks.
— I'm going to Santa Misericórdia Hospital. Do you know the way? — Andreas questions, eyes glued to his cell phone screen.
— See, I do know it, sir. But the city is a mess because of the rain. — The driver adds, trying to ensure a lack of complaints due to traffic or price.
The art directior agrees with a whisper, not really paying attention. He repeats this technique during the first minutes in the car, when every cab driver starts talking about important bits and pieces of their own life. First, it's about disagreements with the current government, with famous sentences such as "It was better in my time" or "Back when they stole but did something we actually had some security."
The cab driver carries on with his boring account, telling enthusiastically about his kids who are making it and how his wife is comprehensive. It finally ends with weather or traffic news, or any other random subject. Andreas was already bored by the driver's talking before he even entered the car.
What was only a mix of anxiety and expectation is becoming pure frustration. It really is raining a lot and the traffic seems to be the worst Andreas has seen these last few years. Unheard of. Many drivers in the Jardins area gave up on reaching their destination and now they fill bars and restaurants in the area, which only worsens traffic around Paulista Avenue.
— Do you have any GPS app? — Andreas asks looking for a miracle solution.
— Yes, I do. But you can see it, it's terrible. The city is locked down. — The driver justifies himself showing the smartphone's screen. All the streets are painted red because of the traffic.
— Hey man. You should have stayed home, this isn't a good night. – The driver tries again.
— Look, you're not being paid to give advice. By the way, I don't even know why you're talking to me. — He says arrogantly, gesturing for the drive to look forward, discharging his furstrations onto the cabbie.
The cabbie just focuses back on driving, shaking his head negatively. In a discrete fashioin. After all, this is not the same rude kid he found in his thirty five years of driving and, as a relaxing mantra, he remembers his gransons, becoming immune to the passenger's offenses.
An hour later, the cab has not gotten anywhere. On the streets, tired drivers trying to avoid the chaos engage in double parking. It's raining so strong now that a river flows by the sidewalk. The sound of sirens can be heard in the distance. All emergency services are on the streets. Andreas cries angrily, specially after several unsuccessful attempts to call Joseph, both at his cell phone and at the hospital. The city's communication syst
em was falling apart.
— How much do I owe you? I'm leaving next to the subway. — Andreas says, in a hurry, already opening the car's door.
— Are you sure, sir? This city is a mess, it's dangerous.
— My God, what an annoying person. Take it, keep the change, leave me alone. — Andreas says rudely.
The cabbie considers preventing him from leaving the car, even offering to take him home for free, but decides against it. People can't reason when they reach this level of frustration.
Andreas heads towards the subway entrance. Paulista avenue is in a high spot in the city. The streets are steep slops, going up them is tiring, specially when it's raining. He takes a while to arrive.
There is a rucks when he approaches the stairwas that lead to the ratchets. People are crowding up against the fence, Andreas overhears that the subway lines are stopped. Squeezing his way through the crowd, he managed to see that the water is almost at street level. The subway must be flooded, he thinks.
He looks at Paulista. He sees cars stopped, both ways. Buses have their inner lights on, windows closed, fogged by so many people breathing inside.
Many cars are parked on the sidewalk. The drivers are there, most using their cell phones. A few look towards the horizon, hopeless. They would all prefer to be somewhere else, with their relative, or simply somewhere safer.
Andreas looks at the Gazeta building and sees the courtain of water reflectes in the city lights. A fog permeates the region now.
At this momento, a metallic sound coming form the sky can be hear all around town. Like the gears of a giant macine had started working. The city's answer is a gravely silence. People look up, astonished, searching for the source. Nothing.
The invisible and inominable threat moves onde more, like it's moving the world. Behind the cloudy sky, after each lightning bolt, it's possible to see a titanic shadow that moves slowly. The sound is deafening. The groundshakes as the noise reverberates, this time like loud slythering. People throw themselves to the ground, in panic, hands to sky, vainly attempting to protect themselves from the inevitable, praying to the skies for mercy.
São Paulo residents scream in despair; by the sidewalk, people hold hands, sit down and cry; many run aimlessly, leaving behing their most valuable belongings; others hold fast to their beliefs, praying and blaming those that, in their opinion, enraged their deities. Nothing else matters.
City lighs turn off all at aonce. Silence overtakes São Paulo. Sudenly, a wave of screams starting shaking everything one more time.
People all around start running, in panic, in fear of the unknown. The sound of the invisible threat makes people insane. The weaker ones are trampled and thrown to the avenue. Many die, crushed by the crowd's despair. Human beings forgetting their own humanity.
Blood runs down the avenue, at the heart of the city. The implacable rain persists; fogs gets desnser, tangible even, chaos reigns.
Chapter 7
The Blade gets to Brazil
Aaron and Yura's private jet gets to São at six PM. Due to the rain, the pilot had to perform a true miracle to land.
A feeling of distress clutches at Aaron's chest.
“Something is wrong”. He can feel the agony in the air. Yura is sitting in front of him, looking him straight in the eyes. The Ukranian always astounds Aaron with her manners. It's inevitable, her supernatural gift allows her to connect to the ancient creatures of Slavic folklore. Through this connect, she can perform physical and psychic superhuman feats. The only problem is that, as a side effect, Yura feels the presence of each of these ancient legends and many of them whisper in her ears, which made the Ukranian colder, attached to negative feelings and even allowing her to predict tragedies.
— I can feel death aproaching. The city will soon be covered by the sinister cloak of chaos. — Yura says, darkly.
— Yura, we need to focus on our mission. – Aaron tells his partner, firmly.
— The death of the scientist's? — She laughs.
— We don't know if they are dead. I talked to Lord Carlyle before we embarked. — He says, objectively..
— The Templar? — Her smile fades as she asks, astonished.
— Yes. We must answer his call. He found it suspicious that Benjamin cared more about the female scientist instead of Saul and Seaman. — Aaron still keeps the same tone, he knows Yura is partial to sudden mood shifts. — I think we are on the brink of a power struggle within the Order.
— OK, let's go to him. — Yura agrees. — May I ask you a question?
— Sure, Yura.
— If I become a templar one day, will I have to dye my hair? — The Ukranian asks innocently. — You know, to match the red cross. Maybe go redheaded.
— We'll think about that when the time comes. Don't worry about it now. — Aaron says, smiling.
Aaron takes advantage of these moments to aproach his partner, after wall he was always very sorry for what she had to face in her past. Even not knowing everything, he greatly admires her survival skills.
After the usual Brazilian burocracy, both agents are free to meet their patron. Looking through the airport windows, they can see the city is a real mess. By the information counter, they get news that São Paulo is on the brink of collapse.
— Victor could be in danger. — Aaron proposes as he tries calling his friend. — We need a fast vehicle. Let's look for a bike.
Yura nods, agreeing, and both leave the airport going to opposite directions in the parking lot. It's full of cars. They look for the ideal vehicle, separetely. The Ukranian stops walking, her face shows unbridled happiness as she sees a lead-colored Suzuki GSX-R1000. The bike is in pristine condition. Polished to the point of reflecting the parking lights. Could be used in professional races.
"Aaron! Found it!
The agent runs towards her.
— What's happening here? — A police officer asks authoritatively, hes hands already on his holster. — Your documents, please.
Both agents freeze looking at the guard. They know how this goes.
— We don't have time for this, Yura. — He says, gesturing towards his partner.
The Ukranian directs her gaze towards the cop. The blood vessels in his sclera dilate, becoming thicker and apparent. In a few moments, his eyes take on a reddish tint. She leans her head like an animal observing something curious and whispers. “Vila. Slavic nymph of the ancient mountains of my land. I summon your support”. — Yura continues her curse, getting closer to the victim.
The cop is completely paralyzed. He mumbles words of sheer horror. It doesn't take long for him to fall on his knees and soil himself. The smell spreads. Which makes the girl laugh. She has conquered her prey. Crying, he begs for his life until he faints. Yura rushes in, thirsty for blood, but Aaron touchers her shoulder.
The “Vilas” are Slavic nymphs that feed on men's blood; the one that accompanies her approached her back when her first captor had violated her, in her childhood, and as an imaginary friend she has kept her company. Somehow, the trauma in her life attarcs the attention of these old world monsters and become part of the girl's essence, giving her unique and surprising abilities.
Right afterwards a female ectoplasmathic form leaves the Ukranian girl's body, smiling menacingly to the agent; she is beautiful, translucid, a demon of forgotten times. To Aaron, the fluid forms of this ancient creature have a sepia tone, faded, like an old picture; his psychic sight has always seen his partner's power manifestations like this.
After this, a metallic sound fills the skies. The Vila looks at Aaron, scared, and disappears. The agents glance at each other. The lights go out. A city-wide blackout.
— Was that me? — She asks Aaron, looking at her own hands. Then to the cop, laying in his own excrement. — Was it because of him?!
— Yura, something is happening in town. Let's go! — Aaron orders, jumping onto the bike and throwing the helmet to the ground.
The bike leaves and after a few moments it is d
arting through the traffic in high speed, quickly disappearing among the vehicles. The engine's roar is the last thing to disappear, lost in the rain, fog and darkness that encompass the setting.
Victor Carlyle's car gets to Azzurra Hotel. It's a decadent building at downtown São Paulo. It served as a luxury hotel in the past, however more than a century of legal disputes and meddling of mob bosses reduced the famous and luxurious building to a hostel for junkied, criminals, punks and miserable people. Not all twenty one floors are active. Only eleven are available for rental or sale. The ones above the eleventh floor belong to a group of foreign investors. The same group that own the scripture since the building was built.
It has been years since some Blade agents started using apartments in Azzurra when they need anonymity for their meetings. People usually avoid the upper floors, where many encounters with the The hotel is, according to the International Paranormal Foundation, one of Brazil's most haunted places, along with the Joelma building and the City Theater.
The Star Eater Page 4