Authors: Thomas E. Sniegoski
Dusty stood there staring, mouth agape.
Samantha smiled. The boy was cute, and she found herself ashamed to be thinking of such trivial things in the heat of battle. Getting her head back in the game, she considered where she might take Dusty to keep him from harm, and was extending a hand to escort him away when a spear tip entered her back, exiting through her chest.
She tried to turn, to take out the troll warrior, but she
could no longer move. Her bow and arrow of divine fire disappeared in a flash. And she fell to the ground, consumed by death.
The instrument screamed. Dusty’s hand burrowed into the pocket of his jacket, wrapping around the blazing-hot harmonica, and drew it out into the cool New England air.
He’d watched one of the angels who was trying to protect him go down. And now the monsters were coming for him again.
Dusty wanted to run, but the dizziness was too much. It was the instrument’s fault, he could sense it. The device created to signal the end of the world was trying its best to influence his decision, but he had to be strong. He had to prove who was boss.
The monster who had struck down the angel pulled its rusty, bloodstained spear from the angel’s back, and licked the blade with a tongue that looked like a giant garden slug. It laughed a low gurgling sound as it fixed Dusty with beady eyes and pointed to the angels that hovered above the school grounds.
“They want you alive,” the monster spoke. “If we deliver you unharmed, we get to live.”
Dusty slowly backed away from the advancing creatures. The instrument was pleading with him. But he wouldn’t listen. It wasn’t time. He would not play the song.
One of the monsters charged at Dusty from the side, throwing a heavy woven net over him with a roar. Dusty tried to evade it, but the net still managed to snag him, the heavy material dragging him down to the grass. His attackers roared their approval, loping across the ground, each of them grabbing an end of the net to make sure that Dusty couldn’t wiggle free.
Even though he was so weak he could barely keep it together, Dusty tried to fight back. He kicked at the loathsome creatures when they attempted to restrain him. This just made them laugh all the harder as they pulled the net tighter to restrict his movements.
Dusty didn’t want this … didn’t want to be anyone’s prize. The instrument was still warm in his hand. Reluctantly, he brought the harmonica to his mouth.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
It screamed inside Dusty’s mind, believing that its wishes were about to come true, but Dusty used all his remaining strength to correct it.
“No, not for that,” he strained, bending his mouth toward the hand that held the instrument. His lips wrapped around the warmth of the metal, and he puffed briefly into the harmonica.
The noise was brief, deafening, and devastating; it obliterated the net in which he was confined, and turned the monsters that had captured him into a fine black spray, which decorated the landscape.
Dusty lay upon the ground, listening to the sounds of the battles going on around him, fighting to stay conscious … fighting to maintain control, the song of desolation echoing painfully—insistently—inside his brain. Briefly he shut his eyes, only to feel the instrument grow stronger, trying to force its will deeper. Dusty shook free from its clawing grasp, opening his eyes to gaze up into the smiling face of an angel.
An angel he’d tried to kill earlier with the instrument.
An angel desperate to hear the song of the world’s doom that was playing incessantly inside Dusty’s mind.
There was an explosion of sparks as Aaron’s sword met Jeremy’s battle-ax. Aaron beat the air with his wings, propelling himself backward, and away from the young Nephilim, now suddenly his enemy. He had no idea what had happened to the youth, but it seemed that he was internally fighting something that, despite his efforts, was winning the battle.
Jeremy surged ahead in the air above the school with a roar. His wings flapped frantically as he came at Aaron full throttle, ax ready to hack his enemy to pieces.
Aaron changed course, flying up and over in an aerial acrobatic maneuver that made it seem as though he’d flown off, but actually dropped him behind his foe. Lashing out at Jeremy, the son of the Morningstar brought his sword of fire across one of the boy’s wings, causing him to spin out of control and plummet toward the ground.
From above, Aaron watched Jeremy catch himself, touching down with barely a stumble. There was madness in the boy’s eyes as he again prepared to take to the skies.
“Jeremy,” Vilma called out.
Aaron watched as the boy stopped and turned toward the young woman.
Vilma was drawing nearer to him, a far more delicate sword of fire in hand, but held low to her body in a less threatening gesture.
“You need to get ahold of yourself,” she instructed. “What’s wrong? Tell us so we can help you.”
Aaron dropped to the ground beside his girlfriend.
Jeremy’s skin was flushed a bright red and sweat dripped from his face in rivulets.
“I … I can’t fight,” he said through gritted teeth. “It’s strong … very strong … it wants to own … me.”
“What does, Jeremy?” Aaron asked. “Tell us and—”
But Jeremy was gone again, whatever it was inside him exerting full control.
Then the boy threw his ax at them, the spinning weapon throwing swirls of fire as it hurtled toward them.
Aaron leaped to one side as the ax whizzed past. Vilma barely evaded the blade as well, and it struck the ground behind them in a fiery explosion.
But it was all a distraction. Jeremy charged at them, twin swords of scorching white fire in his hands. He came at Aaron
first, swinging the weapons wildly. Aaron tried to back away, but his attacker was too fast. The hungry blades took nasty bites from his shoulder and wing.
Suddenly Vilma was there, her own powerful wings spread as she tackled their opponent in midflight. She flew with him across an expanse of lawn, slamming him fiercely against one of the school buildings. Glass shattered and pieces of brick wall crumbled as Jeremy struck.
Leaping back, Vilma again summoned her more feminine blade.
“Please fight this,” Aaron heard her say as the Nephilim struggled to shake off the effects. “Remember what we talked about, how you told me that you never wanted to lose control? Don’t do it now.”
Aaron didn’t know what the two had shared during their time away from the school, but it seemed to be having some kind of an effect. Jeremy had dropped to his knees. His entire body was smoldering now, small burn holes forming in his clothes as parts of his body became superheated. Aaron guessed that whatever was inside of Jeremy was attempting to override any control and tap into the power of the angelic essence within him.
“Oh God!” Jeremy cried out. His body was glowing with the intensity of the heat of his flesh. His wings looked as though they were made of fire, their flapping movements tossing tongues of flame as they fanned the air.
Aaron ran to Vilma, attempting to pull her away. If this continued, Jeremy’s angelic essence was likely to explode, destroying its human host as Russell’s had.
“We have to help him,” Vilma said, struggling in Aaron’s grip.
“There’s nothing we can do,” he told her, holding her tightly.
Jeremy continued to scream, sinking his fingers into the soft soil, sending streaks of hungry fire out across the ground.
Aaron leaped from one of the tracks of fire, Vilma clutched in his arms. The ground ignited, violently hurling the two of them back. Aaron rose, checking to be sure that Vilma was all right, and found that she was only stunned.
Jeremy’s angelic essence was out of control, and Aaron knew that there was only one thing to do.
He had to put it down before it could do any more damage.
Aaron summoned his sword once more and ran toward the boy who was once his comrade. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice.
It was an act of mercy.
Snakes of fire leaped from Jeremy’s fingertips, and Aaron jumped through the air, slashing at the writhing tendrils, absorbing them the best he could with his own weaponry. Finally close enough to his foe, Aaron lashed out, the pommel of his sword connecting with Jeremy’s twisted face and knocking him backward.
Lording above him, Aaron saw his target and knew what needed to be done. Eyes fixed upon Jeremy’s exposed neck, Aaron brought up his sword to start its fateful descent.
“Stop!”
barked a familiar voice that caused Aaron to hesitate.
He turned toward Gabriel, and slowly lowered his blade. There was a look in the dog’s eyes, something that Aaron had seen growing there for quite some time, since the dog had been touched by the power of the Nephilim. Aaron had always known there was something special about the Labrador, even before he’d brought him back from the brink of death. And he was now about to find out how special he actually was.
Gabriel could smell the boy’s pain.
The dog had left Lorelei and Kraus in the library to find Aaron, and fill him in on what had happened—on
who
had happened—when Jeremy’s pain had cried out to him.
First things first
, thought the dog in the midst of chaos.
He’d found Aaron about to do the unthinkable and was glad he was able to stop him. Now it was up to him.
There was angel fire everywhere, as whatever was causing Jeremy’s pain attempted to exert control. Gabriel knew he had to be careful. That fire could hurt him badly.
He could sense Aaron close by, ready to strike if necessary.
Gabriel approached Jeremy, brown eyes scrutinizing the Nephilim. With his special vision, he could see the boy’s pain, a dark mist hovering about his head.
Gabriel chanced a quick glance at his master, to let him know that everything was going to be fine.
And then the dog remembered what had appeared inside the library, and wasn’t quite so sure. But that was a worry for another time. First Gabriel had to save Jeremy.
He was close enough to speak to the boy now.
“Jeremy,”
Gabriel barked for his attention.
The boy lifted his head, tears steaming from his flushed face in the cool air.
“Get away,” Jeremy said, the pain in his voice obvious. “Don’t know how much longer I can hold it back.”
The boy’s clothes were gone, burned away by the intense heat radiating from his body. There were tiny blisters developing upon his flesh, and Gabriel knew he had to act quickly.
The dog inched closer. Gabriel could feel the power of Jeremy’s heat, but did not back away.
“Put your hand on my head,”
Gabriel instructed.
“Can’t,” Jeremy protested. “Won’t hurt you … please …”
“Do it!”
Gabriel barked, dropping down upon his elbows and baring his yellowy-white teeth. The dog could feel the boy growing weaker, the thing inside him causing the pain to strengthen.
Jeremy began to lift a smoldering hand but quickly put it down again.
“Make him go away!” Jeremy begged of Aaron and Vilma.
“Gabriel,” Aaron called out cautiously.
The Lab could hear the concern in his master’s voice. He loved Aaron more than anything, and would die for him and his cause. But Jeremy was part of that cause, and Gabriel must help him.
“Put your hand on my head!”
Gabriel demanded again, moving closer to Jeremy. The heat was powerful, and he could smell the acrid stink of his own fur as it started to burn, but there was no turning back now.
Gabriel turned his gaze to the boy and saw that his eyes had gone nearly white, whatever it was inside exerting nearly full control.
The thing inside saw Gabriel, and made Jeremy smile.
It was a horrible smile, more like a snarl. It made Jeremy reach for him.
The dog yipped in pain. The burning was like nothing he had ever felt before. He gathered his focus, drawing the pain away from the possessed Nephilim, like poison from an infected wound, and giving Jeremy his strength to fight back. It was intense, but Gabriel held his ground.
He felt his body begin to tremble. All that suffering … all that darkness. Gabriel pulled upon it, like one of the games he played with Aaron, Gabriel pulling on one end of a rope, Aaron tugging at the other.…
Jeremy screamed, his body blazing brightly before the flames that had covered it were extinguished in a whoosh of air. The boy fell forward onto his stomach, his naked form racked with powerful chills as he twitched upon the grass.
Gabriel sat weakly upon his haunches as his own body dispelled the pain back into the air, where it could do no more harm.
Jeremy began to cough and retch, and something long and worm-like slithered from his mouth onto the grass.
Gabriel shot to his feet, eyes locked upon the serpentine shape, and pinned the creature with his paw. The foul thing shrieked. The dog bent down, grabbed the horrible creature in his jaws, and pulled, tearing the monstrous worm in two and silencing its nightmarish squall.
He gave the remains of the worm in his mouth a violent shake before letting them fly, watching as part of them landed in a patch of sunshine and began to disintegrate.
Jeremy moaned, slipping further into unconsciousness. Gabriel sniffed his body and found no trace of the thing that had been trying to control him.
Aaron and Vilma were suddenly at his side, praising him as they patted his head and rubbed that special spot near his tail. For a moment Gabriel basked happily in the attention, wagging his tail and licking their faces.
Then he remembered what awaited them in the science building.
“There’s something I need to tell you,”
Gabriel said, feeling suddenly weak from his exertion and lying down on the cool grass.
“I think it’s going to have to wait,” Aaron said, he and
Vilma looking off toward the front of the school. “The others need our help.”
“But, Aaron,”
Gabriel protested.
The dog was about to tell him what had happened, what Lorelei had brought back to the world, when a sound filled the air. It was a horrible noise that hurt his sensitive canine ears, and he began to howl. It was a tune the likes of which he had never heard before, and never wanted to hear again. It sounded like the end of the world.