The Nephelium

by Nathan Parks

  Ki struck. The two guards collapsed to their knees and then over each other. The poison paralyzed them instantly, but Ki knew that he only had a few minutes. The poison would kill the avatar, but the Possessor inside the avatar would be released once the body was dead and would find another body quickly. If he was still there when that happened, let’s just say all of Hades would pour forth.

  “Ki?”

  “Don’t have time to speak, Troy.”

  “Yeah, and why is that? What was all the noise I just heard?”

  “Just taking care of business.”

  Ki opened the door, praying to Jah that there was nothing really big he was walking into, but he had to take the chance. He rushed in.

  *****

  “Are you there? Can you hear me?”

  “No. I don’t want to. I don’t want to feel anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

  “You have to survive.”

  “No, if I survive then nothing changes; but if I let go and just disappear into the void, then I control that.”

  “Control what?”

  “My death.”

  “How do you win in that? How do you benefit?”

  “All the pain stops, and I stopped it.”

  “Do you think they really care, though?”

  “Maybe not, but I do; and I need something I can control.”

  “What if you could beat all of this?”

  “I don’t want to talk anymore. Please leave me alone.”

  “Megan?”

  “Yes.”

  “I am not going to leave you alone.”

  Everything was dark. She felt that she was wrapped in thick, black material, yet her body moved as if in a dark soup. She could not tell which way was up or down, and she did not wish to know, either. She just wanted to leave. Leave where? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to be here anymore. She struggled with her own soul and sanity. She was fighting for what? All her life she had fought, and all her life she was at the bottom of the pile. She was done, but her soul was not fully dead. She was aware that she must be mentally shut down and had drawn within herself, but she still didn’t feel safe.

  “Megan?”

  “I said I don’t want to talk.”

  “Yet, you still are talking to yourself. You cannot escape yourself.”

  “Yes, but I can shut everything down. Good night, everyone. I hope you have enjoyed the show.”

  “This isn’t about anyone else, Megan. This is about you. This is, for once, just you.”

  “Me and this child that is growing inside of me.”

  “Ah, but right now that child needs this to be about you. Walk with me.”

  There was a glow that began to take shape in front of her in the darkness. It started off as a small pinpoint and grew to a small, glowing orb. It stopped for a moment, and then that small orb began to take shape. Soon a glowing image of herself stood in front of her, except it was what she would look healthy and off drugs.

  “Who are you?” Megan asked her.

  “I am you.”

  “No, you are not.”

  “I am, and you know it is true. You know that I have always been down deep within you.”

  “I can’t release you?” Megan was starting to cry. “I wanted to. I wanted to be you. I wanted to live the life of those I see every day walking with someone who loves and respects them and whose life is full.”

  “But you know even that is a mirage--just like the life you have lived. You have to start with what is inside of you first, Megan. Once you have started there, then everything else comes and goes.”

  “I can’t survive.”

  “You can, but you have to want to.”

  “How?”

  “Help is here.”

  “At what cost?”

  “Only what it costs you to face your demons and live.”

  Ki breathed a really big sigh of relief as he looked around the room. It actually almost looked like a posh hotel room. At first he thought he was alone, but then he noticed a young lady lying on the bed. He could tell she wasn’t dead, but she didn’t seem to be asleep; or if she was, it was a nightmarish rest. She kept jerking back and forth.

  “Drugs,” he thought to himself. “A freakin’ junkie.”

  He quickly looked back out in the hall and pulled the dying guards into the room and closed the door. He was disappointed, because he had hoped to find Alfonso, but relieved that he didn’t find any part of the Gathering.

  “Troy, we are back to ground zero.”

  “What do you mean?” the voice in his ear asked.

  “Nothing here, but a junkie. I think I am going to come back out. We will have to try to locate him another way.”

  “Hey, what do you mean ‘just a junkie’?”

  “I don’t mean to be insensitive if that is what you are implying.”

  “No, I was just wondering why they would have two guards at the door of someone who is ‘just a junkie’.”

  “I don’t know. Some chick with longer, dark hair, and she looks like she is going through withdrawal. All I know is that it isn’t Alfonso.”

  “Is there any ID anywhere?”

  “Why? Come on, Troy. I got to get out of here.”

  “Wait. A few nights ago when we were doing the stakeout, there was a dancer whom I ran into. She was scared, and she had all kinds of tormentors attacking her.”

  Ki looked around and spotted a purse. He walked over to it and pulled out a dancer’s badge.

  “I have her club ID.”

  “What does it say?”

  “Jasmine.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Denora’s fangs were bared as she licked the blood off the matted forehead of the old man. She danced around him like an insane maniac with sneering glee. She loved pain, she loved blood, and she loved to smell how life smelled when it was close to the end; and this old geezer was certainly nearing the end.

  “It is simple, Old Man, simple. As much as I would love to fillet you, it doesn’t benefit me at all. But what does benefit me is for you to tell me where the vial is.”

  The room they were in was similar to a Babylonian dungeon. The man was kneeling in sand stained red. His arms were stretched straight out from his sides by chains hanging from the ceiling. His chin was buried into his chest, and his breathing was so shallow, it was hard to tell if he was still alive. Alfonso was unrecognizable. Where white waves of flowing hair once covered his head, there were only bloody patches of pink and red strands. His once gentle, kind, beckoning eyes were blackened and swollen shut. Ears that once heard the beauty of nature around him and the gentleness of children’s laughter were now listening as one ear was being finished off by the crunching jaws of a demon dog sitting in the corner.

  However, Alfonso’s will was still strong. They could take everything from him, but they couldn’t take his will. He had sworn to protect the truth, and truth would die with him. He had heard others say before that “it isn’t if you break, but when.” Well, he was going to change that saying.

  He kept slipping in and out of understanding. He kept fighting to stay alert, afraid that if he slipped away, he may say something that would betray what he was protecting. He may have been a man who owned a café; but he was first and foremost a Watcher, and the Brotherhood and its secrets he would not betray.

  Arioch was furious . . . no, seething! He stood in front of the Watcher and then knelt so that they were face to face.

  “Listen, Alfonso, I don’t know your background and, personally, I don’t care. I don’t know what you have been through or endured and, again, . . . I don’t care! What I do know is that if you are the last Watcher, then there would be no disgrace in releasing the information that I need to know. There would be no one else that would ever know. You can leave here tonight alive and can spin whatever story you feel like telling about how you didn’t cave and how the secrets are safe.”

  The batter
ed and disfigured face rose up in defiance. He could hardly speak as the blood pooled in his mouth and came pouring out. Denora tried to catch it with her fingers but was shoved back by Arioch.

  “Listen, Demon,” Alfonso growled between teeth clenched in pain, “I am not easily swayed by your slippery tongue. Whatever I do here may not be known by anyone else, but it will be known by me, and I would have to live with myself, no matter what. Deception, even to one’s self, is still deception; and who can you trust if you can’t trust yourself?”

  Arioch punched Alfonso, and another gash opened up down the man’s cheek. The force came so hard that Denora thought she heard the Watcher’s neck snap. He would break, surely.

  “Where is the blood?” Arioch screamed through clenched teeth.

  “It seems there is plenty right here,” Alfonso said defiantly. “If you are going to kill me no matter what, then what does it benefit me to tell you? So, I tell you and I die knowing that not only did I betray my Brotherhood and our cause, but I have allowed the doorway to extinction to be opened for all humanity. Why now? Why is it that you are so determined right now to get your hands on it?”

  Alfonso could tell he was losing it fast. His words were slurring, and the sight that he did have left was blurring more and more. To die right now would almost be a welcome, but he had to know what would happen to Eve and even Megan.

  Arioch nodded to his accomplice. “He is yours, Denora, and do whatever it takes. I’ll give you a promotion if you can get the information out of him. You will stand beside me when we go before the Gathering. Whatever it takes, understand? Just get the answer.”

  She sneered almost with a hiss. “Oh, Watcher, oh, Watcher. With what eyes will you watch and with what tongue will you speak; and, oh, how tasty is your blood upon the tenderness of my tongue.”

  She grabbed what was left of his hair and yanked his head forward as she stood behind him. She held a razor in her hands and sliced just beneath the skin, pulling up as she peeled a section from the back of his neck. Alfonso never screamed. He refused her the satisfaction.

  He only cried out to Jah internally, “My God, I am Yours. Your will be done.”

  *****

  “Are you sure it says, Jasmine?” Troy asked. “You said she has dark hair?”

  He was sitting in a remote control room near The Vortex. It was one of the few areas they secretly had throughout the city that were all networked to the Sanctum. This allowed them access to all the technology without having a large hub.

  Ki was just ready to get out of there.

  “Yeah, I am sure. Come on, Man. I don’t need to stay around and talk fantasy over the airways to you. You’re sick.”

  “No, that is the girl! I think she is the other girl that Alfonso took care of.”

  “You mean like Eve?”

  “Yeah, but she wasn’t around as much. I met her the other night. I am telling you if they had guards on her, there is something important about her.”

  “So what are you saying, Troy? What do you want me to do--pick her up and walk through the club?”

  “I don’t know, Man, but really I don’t think we should just leave her there. There are too many things that we are playing catch-up on to just walk out of there. Even if there is nothing to this, look at it from the point that we saved someone from that hole.”

  “I love the nobleness, but again, what am I supposed to do with her?”

  “I don’t know. Find the rooftop and fly her out of there. You’re the Angel.”

  “Nice, Troy . . . nice.”

  Ki looked around, trying to formulate a plan. He had no idea what he needed to do. Alfonso was still out there somewhere, and now he had to decide what to do with this young lady. He walked over to her and pulled back her sleeve. There was the telltale tattoo of a Familiar.

  “I don’t know about this, Troy. She has the tattoo. That tells me she chose to be where she is right now.”

  “Your call, Ki. You’re the one there, Man. We had a saying in the military: ‘It’s the guys on the ground that make the best calls, not the guys in Washington.’ You won’t hear anything from me after this.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Ki couldn’t take any more time. He had already taken too much time here, and he couldn’t take any more chances right now. He made his way back to the door quickly and checked the hallway to make sure it was clear. All he had to do now was just play it cool and make his way back out to the dance floor and then out of the club. They still needed to find out some information about the Watcher, though. He was sure that the Watcher wasn’t getting five-star treatment right now. He stepped out into the hallway, and was about to take a step in the direction he came from when a voice made him freeze.

  “Please . . . are you the Angel that takes souls to Heaven?”

  His head fell back, and his eyes closed. “In the name of Jah, don’t do this to me.”

  He turned and looked back into the room where the young lady, Jasmine, was lying on the bed. Her head was turned toward him. He could tell that she was not looking at him in the mortal realm; but mostly likely in some stupor, she was seeing his supernatural essence.

  “I want to die.”

  “It isn’t your time right now, Jasmine.”

  “My name is Megan, and I don’t want to live.”

  “That is not your choice or mine tonight.”

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I have to. You belong to someone else.”

  “I don’t want to be his. I don’t want his child.”

  Ki froze. “His what?”

  “His child. If you take me to wherever you take souls, then I won’t have his child; and I won’t have to live this life anymore.”

  Ki stepped back into the room. He winced. He was really playing this too close. “I can’t take you with me.”

  Her eyes closed and her head rolled away from him. Her body didn’t move. Ki looked around the room to see if he saw any minions that may be playing her like a puppet, but nothing was there. He felt sick to his stomach.

  Troy heard the security door open to the remote center and started getting all his gear put together. It had been a long night, and he figured it was going to be longer. The Gathering was only a day away, and there were a lot of things that were taking place. He stood up and turned to face Ki. The soldier was not prepared for what he saw. It wasn’t Ki.

  “I thought . . . Leah said . . .”

  “Leah doesn’t know I am here, Troy. I don’t know if I should be here, but I do know that all those who can stand together, should. I want to help.”

  *****

  Eve was nervous. Ok, so maybe nervous was not a strong enough word. She was downright scared. She was standing beside Kadar in the center of a large warehouse. They had been there for about 20 minutes now; and the longer they stood there, the more crowded the place became. It was as if bodies were rising up out of the shadows. No one said a word, but they all just stood quietly. Some would silently nod to others in recognition; but for the most part, they showed up, stood, and stayed. They were all different, but they all looked like they meant business and knew how to deal in business. Most were dressed darkly, and a few had weapons that were visible.

  Eve kept standing closer and closer to Kadar. She couldn’t be silent anymore.

  “Who are they, Kadar?” she whispered.

  “They are our people.”

  “Our people?”

  “They are the Outcast, the Ghost Clan, the Loners. They are . . .”

  “Nephelium,” she whispered in awe. “This is our Family.”

  It wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement. She was in awe. All the searching for her family, and here they were--all like her. They were from all walks of life, but they all had had no one and now had each other.

  “Did you know there were so many of us?”

  Kadar shook his head. “No, there was no record, just a network of word-of-mouth.”

  “What now?”

  “We
lead them. The Family wants a Gathering? Then a Gathering is what we will give them.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Troy sat back down. He didn’t know what to say, but he did know that he had never seen the person standing in front of him in the way that he was seeing him now. Never had he seen any supernatural glow or essence, but here now Troy could see him clearly.

  “What do you want?”

  “Troy, I am still on your side.”

  “Isaiah, we have known each other for a long time, and now I find out I never even knew you. What am I supposed to do? You are like a brother, Isaiah. Come on, Man!”

  Troy was feeling anger rising up inside of him. Betrayal was almost too much. As a soldier, he lived in loyalty. It was something with which he breathed, ate, lived, and even slept.

  “Troy, what do you want me to say?” Isaiah leaned against a console near where Troy was sitting. “How can you tell someone something that you don’t even want to acknowledge yourself? I am still Isaiah. I am still your friend.”

  Troy slammed his fist down. “Friends don’t betray friends, Isaiah! They don’t! What would Alisha say? Did she know?”

  “Don’t bring her into this, Troy. She is gone. This is between friends.”

  “Did she know, Isaiah, or did you lie to your own wife? Did she know that your child wasn’t fully mortal? How long . . .?”

  “Forget it! I was wrong coming here. I thought . . .”

  “You thought what, Bro? You thought that I would just turn around and say, ‘Wow, come in and use some crazy Nephelium power. Let’s kick some Fallen’?”

  “Forget it,” Isaiah stated. “I understand. I stood in the pulpit for years preaching about forgiveness, but why should I expect that my best friend would practice it?”

  “Come on, Isaiah! You also preached about honesty, truth!” Troy stood up. “You’re throwing this on me?”

  “No, no, I’m not. Don’t worry.”

  Isaiah turned and walked toward the door. Just as he reached the door, he turned and looked back at Troy. “What is that saying you always say, Troy? ‘Don’t pity me if I can’t see the world around me, but pity those who can see and refuse to believe that they, too, can be free.’ Maybe you should listen to it tonight.”