Deep Into That Darkness Peering Part-14

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Deep Into That Darkness Peering-
Part Fourteen

by:
Enemyoffun


Ryan Roth is a college freshman with a good life. He has a great girlfriend, a good best friend and seems to be starting his college career off on the right start. But something dark and dangerous comes into his life and things go from bad to worse.

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Author's Note: Here's Ch. 14, the confrontation of Rachel and the crazy cult that's been chasing her. I've been told this chapter is pretty "heavy". There will be one more chapter after this one to wrap Rachel's story up. I'd like to thank my beta readers (you know who you are), djkauf and faeriefyre for the editing and DC Comics for the characters.

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Chapter Fourteen:

When I woke up, I was a bit confused and groggy. The room was dark and there didn’t appear to be any windows. My mouth was dry and I had one of those stiff necks one gets from sleeping where they shouldn’t. What the hell happened? I tried to recall the last thing I saw before passing out. I was on the highway and a smiling priest picked me up. He promised to take me back into the city. We were in his car talking, then I fell asleep. I groaned. How rude was that? I sat up and rubbed my sore neck, finally understanding where the soreness came from. Falling asleep in the car was horrible, but no more so than sleeping on a couch. I waved my hand in front of face, but all I saw was darkness. I cursed and tried to get my bearings.

After a minute or two, I tried standing. There was something wrong as soon as I did so. I was dizzy and lightheaded, almost as if I was drunk. Did they spike the punch? I shook my head. Other people were drinking it and they were fine. I sat back down quickly and tried to think. Walking in the desert had tired me out, but it wasn’t enough to make me so woozy. My last few moments in the car were really fuzzy. I think I was trying to stay awake as if something was forcing me to fall asleep, which didn’t make any sense. The priest, Brother Sebastian, seemed like a good guy; albeit, his smile was a bit on the creepy side. Why the hell would he try to put me to sleep?

I tried standing again and, this time, I was a little better. I took a few steps and, though my feet were heavy, I managed to walk to what I hoped was the middle of the room. After a few more steps, I collided with a coffee table, I think, smashing my shins. I cursed and decided to go a different direction. I walked maybe ten steps or so when I ran into the wall, face first. That hurt like a bitch. But, if there was a wall, there was a door and possibly a light switch. I fumbled along it in the dark, hoping to get lucky. Step after clumsy step, I tried in desperation. It’s real scary bumbling around in the dark in a strange place. For all I knew, I could be in a large room with loads of people staring and watching me act like an idiot. That was a crazy idea, but it was a fear.

Finally, my fingers found what I was looking for. I closed my eyes and flicked the switch. I opened them gradually, getting used to the light. After getting my eyes adjusted, I opened them fully. I was surprised at how normal the room looked. It was an office of some kind. The couch I was laying on was actually against the wall I was standing next to. There was the coffee table I smashed into, a desk, and some filing cabinets. It had maroon carpets, wood paneling instead of paint, and, behind the desk, was a giant portrait of a sinister looking man wearing a red robe and a scowl. I stared at the painting, picking up some of the similarities between the man and Sebastian. It must have been an ancestor or something. I took a step closer and noticed a small plaque underneath with a name and date: Sebastian Krev, 1260-1340.

I took a step away from the painting and looked to the bookshelf lining the wall. A lot of books were old and worn, like the ones that Dr. O had in his library. Much like Dr. O’s, these books had no names on the bindings. I pulled one out, but the name on the cover was faded. I opened it up, but I couldn’t read anything inside. I sighed and put it back on the shelf. It was clear that the Brother brought me back to his church after I fell asleep, but this office didn’t look like any priest’s office I’d ever seen. For one thing, there wasn’t any religious iconography. I looked real hard for it, too. I couldn’t even find a crucifix. That fact only mildly bothered me, though. What really sent my warning flag flying was the lack of a window. It was strange that someone wouldn’t have a window in their office. I mean, I was all for the dark and gloomy bit, but this guy was a priest. Wasn’t he supposed to be into all the light and holy stuff?

I finally finished the tour of the room at the filing cabinets. The drawers were all locked but there was a file sitting on the desk. Curiosity got the better of me and I took a step toward it. As soon as I did so, I heard a click behind me and the door slowly opened. I snapped around quickly, casually sitting on the end of the desk. When the door was fully open, Brother Sebastian came into the room. He was dressed all in black, his priest collar very apparent. His blonde hair was slicked back and he was wearing that welcoming smile of his. It still creeped me out, though.

“I see you’re finally awake,” he said with a chuckle. “Have a nice nap, my dear?”

He walked into the room and over to his desk, slipping behind it and sitting in the chair. He looked from me to the file, but didn’t ask if I looked at it.

I put on a fake smile. “Where am I?”

“My church,” he said with another chuckle. “When you fell asleep in my car I had no idea where to take you because you never said. So, I brought you here. I figured as soon as you woke up I’d bring you to wherever it is you wanted to go.”

I nodded then looked from him to the guy in the painting. The painting guy had creepy eyes that seemed to follow me. “Nice place, love what you’ve done with it.”

He laughed. Then, waved his hand around. “Not exactly my idea of styling either. I inherited this position from my father. He died suddenly a few months ago.”

I suddenly felt bad about the crack. “I’m sorry. Were you close?”

He shook his head. “Not really.”

I nodded but twigged on something he said. “Do sons normally inherit the priesthood or the church from their fathers?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Not usually, no, but our Church is special. We’re a very small sect, barely a thousand members, actually. We’ve been all over the world, actually, founded in Eastern Europe by the man in the painting above my head.”

I looked up at the painting again very quickly. “Kinda gives me the creeps.”

He laughed. “Me, too.”

I chose my next words carefully. “He looks like you,” I said then quickly added. “Except the guy in the painting looks like someone gave him sour milk.”

Sebastian let out a hearty laugh. “We’re ancestors, actually. Brother Krev was the first High Priest of our Order. When he died, things were passed to his son. It’s been like that for seven centuries, now, passing from the father to the son.”

“What if the son doesn’t want the job?”

There was a twist of anger on his face but it passed quickly. “The son is always honored to take the father’s place.”

I vaguely remembered him mentioning studying to be a doctor. I can only imagine how happy he must have been to give that all up.

After that, there was a moment of silence. I wanted to thank him for his Church’s impromptu history lesson, but I didn’t really want to extend the inevitable. In truth, I just wanted to get the hell out of this creepy place. I’m not big on churches. My family was never the religious kind, but I always got this strange feeling being in one. I could never really describe it, but stepping into a church sent my body into overdrive. I sweat and sometimes break out into a fever. My mother said it was social anxiety because of all the people, but I knew it wasn’t. I’d been in places with loads more people than that and never felt like shit. No, there was something about churches that just didn’t agree with me.

I took a deep breath. I wanted to get out of here; I needed to get out of here. “I hate to be a poor guest and sound ungrateful, but do you think you can take me back into the city, now? I was at a party and left in kind of a rush. I’m sure my friends are worried sick about me.”

Sebastian smiled that smile of his again. Then, he sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t presently have the car. You see we only have one and my assistant took it to run an errand.”

I nodded. What time was it? The last time I looked, it was midnight and that was before I left the party. I had to wonder who ran errands this late or early for that matter. “Do you have a phone? I left my purse at the party.”

He smiled. “Of course.”

He opened a drawer of his desk and took an old rotary style phone from it. He set it on the edge of the desk for me to get easy access to. I looked at the phone and smirked. I thought my grandmother was the only one who still had one of those. I chuckled a bit as I picked up the handset and started dialing Lori’s cell. I turned slightly so he couldn’t see me. When I turned my back, I felt a rush of air. It was quick, too quick to react. There was a sharp prick in the back of my neck. I snapped around, dropping the hand set in mid-dial. What I saw was Sebastian standing there, an empty syringe in his hand.

“What the fuck?” I said, slapping a hand on where he jabbed me.

He smiled, but this time it wasn’t the happy smile from before. It was cruel and sinister, matching the smile of his ancestor in the painting. “You were trying to get away, my dear, and we can’t have that.”

Whatever it was he stuck me with started working fast. I staggered off the desk. “You son of a bitch!” I slurred as I tried to get away from him.

I tried to get to the door, but only managed the couch before I collapsed. He stepped around the desk and slowly walked over to me. He bent down so we were looking eye to eye. “We tried to be civil, but you just weren’t playing fair. Every time my people tried to approach you, you just kept running from them. So, I decided to try a different tactic.”

He pointed to the door and standing there, now, was Bart. He had his arms crossed and was smirking. What the hell? “Bart? You’re in with them?” I slurred as my vision started to blur.

Bart and Sebastian laughed. “He isn’t Bart, my dear. He isn’t even a ‘he’.”

I looked at Bart standing there and suddenly he wasn’t Bart anymore. The red costume of his faded first followed by the rest of his body. In his place was a small girl with mousy hair and glasses, a very familiar looking girl. “Becky?” I gasped.

She smirked. “Theresa, actually.” she said as she took off her glasses, her whole demeanor changing. Her body changed a bit too, getting a bit taller and curvier.

“Your confusion is to be expected,” said Sebastian as he placed a hand on my elbow. I tried to push him away, but I found I couldn’t move my body, anymore. What the hell did he stick me with? “Miss Zimmer is special, like you. She was such a rare find.”

“I’m going to kick all your asses,” I slurred as my vision started to get worse.

Sebastian smirked. “Another time, perhaps.”

He clapped his hands. Becky or Theresa or whoever the hell she was stepped out of the doorway. Behind her, two brown robed monks walked into the room. Panic seized me before my vision completely faded and the room was plunged into darkness.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

“Rachel,” said a voice, a pleading sobbing voice. “Please, Rachel, wake up.”

I opened my eyes and, groggy, the world came flooding back at me. I blinked. Everything around me was blurry and unfocused. I could tell I was in large room, though–stone pillars lining the walls. The ceiling was far above my head. My vision managed to focus for a second and I got a look at the walls. They were lined with paintings, all of them of the same man. No, a different man, but they looked the same, like the painting in Sebastian’s office. These guys were his ancestors, too, all of them wearing the same sinister scowl. They were all named Sebastian, I think; I could vaguely see the plaques under them. The closest one---the only one I could fully read---was Sebastian Veri.

“Rachel, can you hear me?” said the voice, the one from before.

It sounded so damn familiar.

I turned toward it and saw Shay or at least someone who looked vaguely like her. She was wearing a white dress and her short hair was black. She was chained to a stone slab, struggling to get free. It was clear she’d been doing it for a while because the area around her wrists and ankles---where the shackles were---was rubbed raw and bloody. She was crying and looked a mess. I blinked, staring unbelieving at one of my friends. How was she here? She was at the party with me. Did they grab her there, too? I shook my head. No, that wasn’t it. My mind drifted back to Jaslyn’s phone call when we were costume shopping. Shay had disappeared then. Oh God, they grabbed her and replaced her with that Theresa girl.

I felt the bile rise up my throat. I felt the anger, too. I couldn’t act on that because I couldn’t move. Whatever they gave me was still in my system. The only thing I could move was my head. I looked down at myself, surprised that I was still wearing my Halloween costume. But I was shackled as well to a stone slab very similar to the one she was on. There was no use for me to struggle because it was useless, at the moment. I tried to lash out with my mind, instead, concentrating on the shackles holding her. If I could break them, then maybe she could get away and get help. But, no matter how much I tried I couldn’t focus, my mind still in a fog.

I realized then why they drugged me.

“Shay,” I said, the grogginess still in my voice. “You all right?
”
She sighed but shook her head. “I’m scared. Oh God, am I scared.”

I bit back my own tears. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll get us out of this.”

I left off the “somehow”. Shay was still crying.

I decided to get a better look at our surroundings as my vision fully came back to me. It looked like Shay and I were on some kind of altar. There was stone basin between our two slabs and a podium behind us. Behind that was a tall nasty looking totem of some kind. The best way to describe it was an oversized human skull with four eye sockets and what appeared to be antlers. It was clearly man-made, but it still looked pretty freaky. Behind that was a large stain glass window done all in red. Unlike most churches, which depicted scenes from the Old or New Testaments, the scene on this window was really fucked up. There was a large horned skull, two smaller skulls on either side of it and an even smaller horned skull on top of that. Beneath that were three characters bowing to the skulls and underneath them were flames. What the fuck was this place? I looked around, seeing the scene duplicated in the dozen or so windows throughout the large room.

I gasped. So, this was Sebastian’s Church, huh?

The rest of the place looked sorta like a church. There were stone pews laid with red velvet cushioning and a long red carpet down the center. There was a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling, one that looked like it was made from human bones. The wall sconces looked like bone, too, and hanging from the walls---in between each of the stain glass windows---were long red banners depicting the four-eyed skull with antlers. Whoever these fucking people were, they were obsessed with the antler guy. I tried to find exits and spotted four. But, I was certain they were guarded. So, even if I managed to free Shay and then myself, it was going to be a fight to get out of here.

I turned my attention back to Shay. “How long have you been here?”

She shook her head. “I was at a coffee shop. I was just leaving to meet up with Jas when these guys jumped me. I’m not sure how long ago that was. What day is it?”

I bit my lip. “It was the twenty ninth, but it’s probably the thirtieth, now.”

She cursed. “What the fuck do these people want with me?”

I sighed. “Its not you, it’s me.”

“You?” she asked, I nodded. “Why?”

“I wish I knew.”

She started crying again. I decided I needed to get her mind off it, so I went back to the questions. “How long have we been in this room?”

“A while. They brought me in first, then you.”

I nodded. “And where did they go?”

She shook her head. “They left after they brought you in. They chained you up like me and as soon as they left. I tried to wake you up. You know the rest.”

I was about to ask another question, but I never got a chance. There was a sound coming from somewhere in the building. It was low at first, but seemed to increase in decibel. I looked around and saw three of the four doors open at the same time. A procession of brown robed monks came into the room, all of them chanting. They poured into the room from three sides, moving slowly toward the pews to take their seats. There had to be hundreds of them. I was mind-boggled by the numbers. He said there were, at least, a thousand followers of his church, but I never expected all of them to be in this room. After they came in, the fourth door, the center one, opened. Another procession came in, but their men were dressed in red robes. They were carrying something, too. There were four of them, two in front and two in back. Between them was a large stone jar. Unlike the brown robed monks who were hooded, these guys didn’t hide their bald heads. I recognized them as the very same bastards who had been following me. They walked slowly down the aisle, moving toward the altar. Behind them was a sinister looking woman with a tight bun and pinched face. Her robes were red, too, but slightly different, a gold sash around her waist. She was holding that goblet from my dream. She followed the jar bearers. After her came Theresa, in her hands was a red pillow on which sat a dagger.

Behind her was Brother Sebastian. He was dressed in red robes as well. They were long and flowed behind him like a bride’s dress train. On his head was a crown made of bone with antlers. When he walked down the aisle, the hooded monks bowed to him. I couldn’t help but gag. I gave them all deadly looks as they approached the altar. Shay squirmed and kicked, trying to get free. Me, I knew there was no use, now. Whatever these bastards were going to do, it was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not–not that I wouldn’t try to get free, if I could. My body was still numb and mostly immobile. My mind was still a fog, too. I could barely form a thought.

Finally, Brother Sebastian reached the altar. The others were already arranged around us, standing still like statues. The four jar bearers were standing before the stone basin. They had blank looks on their faces.

Sebastian turned and faced the crowd. “Brothers and Sisters the time has finally come to bring forth the dream that our great founder, the First of Blood, set about to do nearly seven hundred years before.”

There were cheers and chanting. It was a name, over and over again. “Brother Blood”. I looked around and realized they must have been referring to Sebastian. No wonder he didn’t tell me his last name when we met. I would have bolted if I heard his name was Brother Sebastian Blood.

He turned to Theresa. “Sister, is the final sacrifice ready?”

Theresa looked from me to Shay. She smiled at me, then glared at Shay. “She is my Lord.”

Shay realized they were talking about her and screamed. Her cries fell on deaf ears though.

“Deacons,” said Blood, addressing the Jar Bearers, “Pour the offering into the receptacle.”

The four Jar Bearers came forth with the stone jar. They carried it over to the large stone basin and, ever so slowly, poured out its contents. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was in there as a red liquid quickly filled up the whole of the basin. I cringed at the smell. There was so much blood, I was almost sick. Shay looked the same, turning her head away. I couldn’t help but stare at it, though. I knew where this blood had come from, it was those girls they slaughtered and drained. They took the blood and now I knew what it was for. But I couldn’t understand why it was called an Offering? Who were they offering it to?

“Sister Theresa, the knife.”

Theresa stepped forward, raising the pillow. Blood took the knife from it and turned toward Shay, walking slowly over to her. “With your sacrifice my dear, we can finally reach the Path of Enlightenment.”

Shay was crying. “Please, no. You don’t have to do this.”

Blood smiled sadly and nodded. “You’re going to be a part of something great and wonderful. I promise you that this act will not go unrewarded. My Lord will make sure that your soul will be taken care of for all time.”

I tried to struggle, but all I could move was my head. The tears started flowing freely down my face. The anger was building, though, burning inside of me. It started in my legs and was slowly moving up my body. But, it was moving too slow and Sebastian knew it. He turned to me and smirked, the evil written all over his face. Then, he turned to Shay and slit her left wrist, she screamed out in pain and agony. I screamed too. He paused and turned toward me, a twinkle in his eye. He held the bloody knife up so I could see it, turning it ever so slowly in his hand. The fiery anger built inside of me. I wanted to kill him; I wanted to tear him apart. He’s toiling with you, playing with your mind. There was a voice in my head, Her Voice.

I ignored it.

Shay was still screaming as her blood ran freely.

“Enough of that my dear,” said Blood and he quickly slit her throat.

Her screaming turned to a gurgle as she sputtered blood from her mouth. It flowed like a river from her neck. Her body twitched and spasmed. I watched as the life drained slower from my friend’s eyes, unable to do a thing about it. The fire built inside of me. I was going to kill him; I was going to kill them all. The tingling spread like wild fire, tearing through my limbs. All feeling came back immediately. I thrashed and tore into the air. Theresa jumped back, losing that snide look of hers for a moment. I looked at my hands, seeing the black light creep along my fingers.

“Is she supposed to be doing that,” stammered Theresa as she pointed to me.

Blood turned and frowned. “Mother gather the rest of the offering, I’ll deal with this.”

He walked over and bent to face me. “Such anger, such power.”

“You mother fucker! You just killed one of my best friends! I’m going to tear off your fucking head and use it as a soccer ball!”

He laughed. “You think I care about murdering your friend? Hell, I murdered my own father, so murdering an insignificant is nothing to me.”

“Your father?” I said, surprised. “What kind of sick fuck are you?”

He smirked. “It’s the way of the Church of Blood. The First was murdered by his son, and so the tradition goes, son murdering father. It’s been going on for centuries.”

“You’re fucked up! You’re all fucked up!”

Blood glared angrily at me. Then, turned to the woman he called Mother. “Did you get it all?”

“Yes Brother,” she said, pouring the goblet’s overflowing contents into the basin.

Blood smiled. “Good, now the second part can commence.”

He turned to the crowd, throwing his hands wide. “Brothers and Sisters, the final Sacrifice has willingly given herself to the Cause.”

The crowd cheered. They shouted “Brother Blood”, again. My anger was still burning, growing stronger. But, my hands were no longer glowing black. It’s getting closer, said the Voice, I told you to let me out. Now, you’re going to suffer. I ignored her. Instead, I wiggled my fingers, glad that there was movement in them. I just wondered if there was enough to stop these bastards.

Theresa turned from the cheering. “She’s not glowing anymore. You said killing her friend in front of her would piss her off, but she’s stopped.”

Blood turned to me, frowning. “This isn’t going to work unless you cooperate with us.”

“Cooperate? What the fuck are you talking about?”

He sighed. “Did you actually think you found that necklace by chance?”

The Rapture? How did he know about that? “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

He smirked. “The man who ran the prop shop, he’s one of ours. He put the necklace there when he saw you coming.” I shook my head. Blood smirked even more. “We’ve been watching you, Rachel, keeping our eye on you for some time, now. It’s taken us years to get our hands on The Rapture but we finally found it in a Thrift Shop, of all places. Can you believe that?” He laughed. “After we acquired it, it was only a matter of time before we could figure out a way for you to get your hands on it. The Prop Shop worked out beautifully. We knew someone like you couldn’t resist the Call of it.”

“Someone like me?”

Theresa laughed. “She doesn’t know?” She laughed even louder, putting her face in mine. “You’re one twisted bitch, actually. Way more than I ever was.”

Her face changed into Bart’s, whereupon she kissed me. Then, she pulled back and laughed. Anger built inside of me again, tingling through my body. Blood smirked. Theresa danced around the stone slab, laughing. Then, she ran over to Shay’s slab. She grabbed Shay’s head and turned it to face mine. She was laughing as she did so. I saw Shay’s lifeless eyes looking at me, her gray skin splattered in her own blood, her lips already blue.

“What’s the matter, Rachel?” said Theresa, mimicking Shay’s voice while moving Shay’s mouth. “Aren’t you mad that they killed me?”

I snapped. The anger flooded through me, a fire burning through my whole body. Blood and the Mother jumped back from the slab. My body arched in the air, the chains holding me in place. The Deacons took several steps back. A felt it, the power, the burning. I tried to fight it, but it was too strong. I was too far gone, now. The burning was so intense that I couldn’t think straight. I flooded with an overwhelming rage I couldn’t control. The shackles holding my feet snapped. The ones holding my arms strained as I rose slowly from the slab. Theresa was staring in wide-eyed horror as I rose. The shackles holding my arms gave way and I was free. I floated above the slab. First five feet, then ten. I felt such power, such wonderful power.

“IT HAS COME!” shouted Blood “THE TIME HAS COME FOR THE PORTAL TO OPEN AND FOR OUR MASTER TO TAKE HIS PLACE IN THE WORLD!”

Blood got down on his knees before me, the Mother did the same?

“Master,” he said, placating me. “We have prepared the vessel, brought forth a bountiful Offering, even secured a key to the Portal. Come forth and shower us with your greatness.”

There was a burning in my bones. It started in my back, creeping along the tattoo. I could feel it, feel it rising. I screamed from the intense pain. As I screamed, the Deacons ran. I lashed out at them, a reflex. It was black tentacles like the Thing inside of me. They lashed around all four at once. I tore into them, squeezing the life out of them. I squeezed and squeezed until they were no more. I dropped their lifeless bodies to the floor. As soon as I did so, the crowd screamed. I think they realized that they weren’t going to get what they wanted. They started running toward the exits. I lashed out at the closest ones, tearing through them with the black tentacles. Their lifeless bodies dropped to the ground seconds later.

Blood was still pleading. “Master, please, why do you punish the Faithful?”

I ignored him. I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.

Theresa decided to run, too, but there was no way she was getting away. Her, I did not grab by reflex. Her, I grabbed to kill. My tentacles lashed around her running form. She screamed as I lifted her into the air. I spun her around so she could face me and pulled her close. Her face was inches from mine. I tore at her and wrenched her in many different directions at once, the whole of her bones cracking as I twisted all her body parts different ways. I ended with her head, giving her a second of agony to see my face before I twisted it around to face backwards.

Who’s twisted, now, bitch?

I dropped her to the ground.

At that moment, an alarm went off somewhere. Blood stopped his groveling. He turned to Mother and glared at her. “I thought the perimeter was secure?”

“It is, I mean it was.”

He slammed her across the face. “Deal with it, I’ll deal with her.”

I let her run. I’d deal with her, later. Instead, all my fury needed to be focused on one thing, one man. I glared at Blood, my tentacles whipping about. I let most the followers flee; whoever was out there would take them. I glared at Blood, trying to figure out the best way to kill him. He got back on his knees, still praying to me.

“Master, is this vessel not worthy?”

A spout of gunfire could be heard in the background.

“I can find you another vessel, a more worthy one.”

More gunfire. Then, a second later, a voice chirped into the room. It was coming from a radio clipped to Blood’s belt. The voice belonged to the Mother. “Sebastian there’s something out here, its red and yellow, moving very fast.”

Red and yellow? The Flash, I smiled. They found me. Some of my anger subsided but not the pain, the pain was intense.

The radio chirped again. “There’s two of them, one black and yellow, they’re tearing through our guards…what should we…”

Her voice cut off in a scream.

“You’re done Blood,” I said, my voice rumbled and trembled.

Blood shook his head. “You ruined it. You must have been Impure. You’re not the Vessel we seek. The Master must have found you unworthy. Maybe the Offering and the Vessel need to be together?”

He spit at me. Then, he ran over and picked up goblet. He rushed to the basin and dipped it inside, filling the cup. He raised the cup to his lips and downed it in one gulp. I cringed and almost threw up. The blood inside that thing must have been old, it was bubbling even. I can’t imagine how sanitary it was. That didn’t seem to stop him though. He dipped the cup in there a second time and took another drink, downing the contents again. It was clear they were refrigerating the blood but I can’t imagine what it might taste like. Blood staggered after his third cup full.

“You’ll see,” he said with a laugh, blood dribbling down his chin. “I’ll bring forth Master Trigon and you’ll rue the day you tried to stop it.”
I lowered to the ground, the pain was still burning, but my anger was gone. It was just sick, now. All the others were gone and from the sound of dying gunfire, taken care of. I was so tired and it hurt, my whole body hurt. Whatever spout of energy I had was dying fast, fueled by anger that was no longer there. I couldn’t be angry at something so pathetic. It was when he mentioned his Master that I had to quit. I thought these people had a purpose, but it turns out they were a bunch of nuts. They were killing all these girls, taking their blood and for what? All so they could hope to summon some imaginary whatever to wreak havoc on the world? What kind of bull was that?

“You’re pathetic,” I said, as I got to my feet, staggering.

I was so tired. I pushed past him and started down the aisle. As I did so, a black and yellow streak zipped into the room. When it stopped, I saw Lori. She was sweating and panting, but she was all right. I smiled and nearly fell. She raised forward and caught me, holding me in a tight hug.
“You all right?” She asked.

I nodded. “I’m good, but I’m so tired. I think I used too much.”

Lori slipped her arm underneath mine and helped me walk. We got to the door when Barbara zipped into the zoom, holding Mother’s gold sash in her hand. “Is she ok?” she asked, Lori nodded.

Blood wasn’t done. “GET BACK HERE!” he shouted. “I WILL NOT BE IGNORED!”

A bullet whizzed past us.

We snapped around. He smirked and laughed, standing there holding a gun in one hand, the goblet in the other. He had a crazed look on his face. “Just as I thought,” he said, walking down the aisle. “All those mighty superpowers and you’re all still afraid of a little gun.”

He leveled the weapon and fired at Barbara. She zipped out of the way. Then, she was in front of him. She snatched the gun from his hand. Then, she zipped back over to us. It happened so fast that Blood had no idea what just happened.

Blood recovered quickly, though, and screamed. I turned just in time to see the knife being hurled at me. I reached fast, lashing out with what bit of power I could muster. I surrounded the knife in black light and threw it back. It sailed high over his head, right toward the chandelier. The force of the throw, added with my powers, cut the chandelier free. It fell toward Blood before Flash or Lori could react. He let out a startled scream as he looked up as it crushed him into the ground, piercing him with several spears of bone. His blood splattered and the gold goblet rolled away, stopping just at our feet.

I smirked. So much for Brother Blood.

Then, I staggered from exhaustion and collapsed into Lori’s arms. She screamed my name and I blacked out.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF

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Comments

Nice.

Cool, but no-where near as good as your story!

I commend you on that list.

Most of which, being highly relevant to my interests.

Regarding that chapter, I dunno. More good writing, but I think I like Raven better when she's gothing it out. Angry, effective Raven is distasteful.

Goth Rachel

Enemyoffun's picture

I agree. I like angry Rachel but there's something about Goth Rachel I like even more.

Epicness!

Okay, so, simply saying "This is Epic!" doesn't even cover it. Blood is sick and twisted. Raven does a commendable job of controlling "Her". But, did Shay have to die? I cried when I read that. That alone speaks of your characterization. ;)

This one effected me so much that I had to step away from the computer for an hour and contemplate it. Nicely done. These are the types of things every author should hear. The first paragraph can be disregarded, but hearing how your work has affected the reader should give you pause. Smile, EOF. You're gifted.

Thank You

Enemyoffun's picture

I really appreciate it...you have no idea how much.

poor Shay....

but there is still "she" to deal with .....

Dorothycolleen

DogSig.png

The Thing

Enemyoffun's picture

I'm glad someone didn't forget about Her.

I'm sad Shay had to die,

I'm sad Shay had to die, poor Jas. Looks like clean-up will be a bitch, looking forward to more.

Lizzie :)

Yule

Bailey's Angel
The Godmother :p

Aftermath

Enemyoffun's picture

The aftermath should be very interesting. I haven't written 15 yet but I plan to touch on a lot of that, including Jaslyn's reaction.

Ummm....

Enemyoffun's picture

I'm not sure if I should thank you or be extremely insulted. I did warn people that this was going to be a dark story though....so it is what it is.

Angel of Darkness.

That she is, with a vengeance.

I too was sorry when Shay died, but that is the one thing that got Rachel to really fight, hard as it was to read.

Awesome chapter.

Maggie

Exactly

Enemyoffun's picture

Like Katie, it was hard to kill Shay but it was necessary for the story to do so. I'm not saying I enjoyed doing it but it was the only thing that could have made her do the things she did.

Cripes!

That was certainly a climax and a half!

So now the Church of Blood has effectively been finished off - it's just a shame if took so many lives to do so though.

Given what they were up to, I can imagine that after extensive interrogation, the authorities will turn a blind eye to the six members she killed. I think she'll probably need a fair amount of counselling to help her get over the night's events.

--B


As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!

Church of Blood

Enemyoffun's picture

I'd say they were done. I know she physically killed six members but I'm sure there were more. Those tentacles were going everywhere.

An Interesting chapter

I've always wondered at the punishment of these religious cult fanatics, I actually wonder how Trigon will view Blood's failure.
Good chapter. Pity about Shay.

Blood

Enemyoffun's picture

He was kinda a nut...I don't think he was ever in Trigon's favor.

That chapter was good glad

That chapter was good glad the jerks are done for,but shay dying made me sad but then all the other innocent girls dying made me sad also.

Shay

Enemyoffun's picture

It was another Katie and it was kind of hard to write but in the end it was necessary. I'm sure you're not the only one who didn't like it and I expect a few more comments about it.

I feel a little shaken by all that...

...well written stuff, but horrifying.

When you're writing about evil it HAS to be evil though, and it should hopefully give Rachael strength to see the difference between what's in her own heart and what makes real evil tick.

Thanks for writing, I'm going to have to have a lie down now...

;-)

Evil

Enemyoffun's picture

When I think about evil and write about it, I want it to be the most vile thing in the world and something that is not easily conquered. It took a extreme act of evil to Rachel enough strength to overcome the evil around her.

Whoa...

Drakira's picture

:O This chapter definitely blew me away. It was written superbly, and had me on the edge of my seat as I was reading it. Now, I'm wondering if Shay's death was enough to let the Thing out of it's cage. Rachel definitely was very emotionally driven when she let loose on the Church of Blood.

However, I don't think they're done. Someone probably got away, you did say there were four exits and one magic user and two metas can only get through so much, even if two of them have blazing speed.

Also, if Trigon was even aware of the Church of Blood's actions to some extent, he's probably aware of Rachel now, and that can open a whole other can of worms.

Excellently done, looking forward to the final wrap-up!

Drakira

Drakira

The Thing

Enemyoffun's picture

There will be one final confrontation between Rachel and The Thing before this chapter comes to an end.

Hate leads to the Dark Side

I hope for Rachel's sake that she can find a better motivator than rage, Grief and hate to show her power, Raven has always been a rather tragic character so we shouldn't shy away from that but I would not employ the same shtick of "killing someone she cares about in front of her " again as it can quickly lose it's power if overused. A great Final Confrontation chapter, Brother Blood was an utter. utter, utter...well I cannot say what he is in mixed company but he is one and an Uttermost and heinous one at that. Hopefully he is fully and permanently dead, and hopefully that Church O' Scum bags is finished now too.
Poor Jaslyn!

The nature of Monkey is - Irrepressible!!!

The nature of Monkey is - Irrepressible!!!

Church of Blood

Enemyoffun's picture

They are definitely done :)

Things to say

There's something about a pious man such as he. He will cheerfully cut your throat if it suits him, but he will hesitate to endanger the welfare of your immaterial and problematical soul.

Isaac Asimov

Sorry, the quote seemed to fit too right. The church was definitely nuts, they even spoke about willing Sacrifices! So it serves them right.

Also, liked the name game. The founder, from Eastern Europe, had the name Krev, which is a sound-alike for the Slavic name for blood. The closest portrait had Sebastian Veri. I suspect he led the cult in Finland, seeing as veri is Finnish for, you guessed it, blood. And the American leader, had the name Blood that speaks for itself.

Here's hoping they are subjected to the Fate Worse than Harold Duvase's. And please, try and remember the guy before clicking the link! :)

Faraway


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Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

The Names

Enemyoffun's picture

I was wondering if anyone was going to pick on all the names. I wanted to make them all have a variation of Blood as their name, I thought it would be really cool. The other paintings all have plagues with Blood names as well, in different languages of course. So if one were to walk around the Church for instance that's what they'd see.

Really not too hard

However, as the saying goes to ask the right question you have to know at least half of the answer. :)

The Blood was self-explanatory, the Krev reference was only twigged on my second rereading, when I matched the origin (Eastern Europe), the languages of the area, and the name of the most recent kult leader. The third name was a deal-setter, that I used to verify my guess.

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

tragic

(I have been reading retcon for awhile now, trying to catch up, and here I have stumbled upon a story line with present stories. I felt bad about not commenting on older stories but I also felt awkward about commenting on stories written a year ago. I had also forgotten that I had created an account for myself here. Better late then never? Anyways, I am sorry about all the feedback I have not delivered.)

I think I should have started nerving myself up for the tragedies of this story when I saw the part that MacBeth was playing, and then again when people started dying. But that is a meta comment, and I do not know how to judge tragedies. Mostly I have trouble dealing with them (with tragedies). I know how I have felt when I have lost people, and that was awful, but I have never seen anyone murdered so that goes outside of my experience (except on tv/movies/games but, with so much bad acting and so on, that just makes it harder for me to understand, I think). So, instead of dealing, I think I will take refuge in some questions:

I wonder how poor Jaslyn is going to be. She has been betrayed so badly by Theresa, and will possibly be betrayed by people too cowardly to tell her that whatever Theresa was doing was not Shay, and of course she has lost Shay.

I am also wondering if Rachel will finally start working harder on her meditation classes (for example, she was supposed to wear clothes that were not to tight and if nothing else her bra sounded like it had been sized wrong).

I am also wondering if this chapter means that that thing locked behind the door has been gradually becoming sane and human. And if that dream with the hallway represented some kind of internal landscape I am wondering how it has changed and will change.

But also, that very first girl that died? She knew about "The Rapture" and I am now curious about her story. (I do not want to face her death again, so I will not likely allow strong emotional ties from myself to her, but I am still curious.)

By the way, I like how you have managed to work in "human feeling points of view" here. Specifically, I like how nicely Ryan's attempted rejection of femininities dovetails with relatively sterotypical "goth girl" reactions. And, no, I do not know how to describe that better. (But, for example, Rachel's initial reactions to Angelina's pink, happy perkiness.)

I just hope I can get back to that level of caring, in this story, before it ends. I recognize the art in tragedies, they can make me feel sad or even horrified. But, for myself? They leave me feeling cold, unhappy and distant.

Tragedy

Enemyoffun's picture

I'm not a huge fan of tragedy either. When I started writing this story I had a plan in mind and decided that I wanted to make this story darker than my others because of the character and her nature. I didn't really start out making a tragedy but as I wrote it, it started to become one. I guess my biggest plan was try to make it as realistic as I could---even though it is in fact based on a superhero.

You raise a lot of valued points, ones that I never even considered actually. I have one more chapter of this story left (which I haven't started writing yet). I can definitely see myself touching on some of the ideas you brought up.

I can say that the girl in the first dream, its not so much as she knew about the Rapture but that it was in fact something unconsciously warning her about it. Her dreams are mini-premonitions and something was trying to ward her away from it. As of right now that something is still a mystery.

The Classic Definitions:

Just to clarify :)

Tragedy: The protagonist dies
Comedy: The protagonist lives

Oh, and EoF... One of these days you're going to need to let a villain live :p

-sb

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Coordinated
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Villains

Enemyoffun's picture

No way....I like killing my villains...I hate the inevitable return or So and So...its boring. That's one of the things I loved about the Burton Batman films, in the end there was no way Joker or Penguin could come back for another one :)

I can see your point...

... but I've always been a fan of the 'long form'... a villain with a PLAN who advances his plan through multiple appearances until the big climactic story where it takes the efforts of a mismatched team who don't necessarily like each other but have to find a way to work together to stop global/galactic/universal/pan-dimensional destruction...

Uh, okay, so maybe I'm a bit... uh... well... er...

Okay... call me spoiled... I'm a spoiled brat! :p

-sb

Coordinated
Educational
Network for
Talents and
Emergent
Resources

Coordinated
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Network for
Talents and
Emergent
Resources

Long Term Villain

Enemyoffun's picture

I'm doing the long term bit with the Syndicate...those guys never really seem to die. I wanted to do villains here who could be in one story and be gone in the next, never to appear again.

Deep Into That Darkness Peering Part-14

Will Trigon ever meet Raven?

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Trigon

Enemyoffun's picture

If the meeting between the two of them ever happens, it won't be in this story.

about that tragedy stuff

I have though about the tragedy issues, and here are a few observations from personal experience:

When you hurt someone or something else, you usually are not in a mindset to care, right when it happens, or you would have avoided that situation. But later on? That can be very different, with opportunities for regret and/or rationalizations.

When you lose someone, it hurts, emotionally, a lot. And eventually you get used to that hurt (I do not think it ever goes away, and that in itself can be comforting). But before then things can be really bad (like hurting yourself -- like maybe running into a wall or table or whatever -- and not paying attention nor caring until the physical pain sets in, or other forms of apathy. I think you need something else important to care about, to maintain anything like a normal life).

(and when I say "you" I mean "me" but if I feel my points would be lost if I used first person here, instead of second person. And, honestly? My personal tragedies have been minor, compared to others'.)