by J J Marshall
Great. You’re great, she thought, trying to believe her own words. Hanna shook her head, hoping the aching in her skull would cease as she stared back down at her phone screen. Hanna gulped as she hit the call button and raised the phone to her buzzing ears.
“Ms. Tropi’s Psychic and Tarot Card Reading, Kasa Tropi speaking, what can I do for you?” a high-pitched female voice crooned into the speaker.
“I… Hi… Sorry…” Hanna mumbled, and she struggled to control her own thoughts. The pain in her skull pounded harder as her vision ebbed in and out, slowly tunneling.
“Are you OK, dear?” Kasa’s voice chirped from the other end.
“Yes…sorry. I’m fine…thanks. I need to set up a reading today if possible.” Silence lingered on the other end as Kasa’s voice sounded in the background. Moments passed before she spoke again.
“I can do three o’clock this afternoon.”
“That’s fine. My name’s—”
“Hanna Calhoun,” Kasa interjected. “I have been waiting a long time for your call. I’ll see you at three my dear. And take some ibuprofen for the headache. Yes, I know about the headache.” Then she hung up. Hanna stared at her phone in disbelief as a shiver ran down her spine.
Crazy, this whole thing is crazy, she thought as she gripped the sides of her skull before her vision ceased and her world went black once again.
Fuck.
*
Air crashed against Hanna’s face as her hair trailed behind her.
Fuck! she screamed though no one could hear her inside her head. I’m so late! Hopefully she makes an exception and sees me! She pushed her feet harder against the sidewalk, weaving in and out of kids as she rounded the bend and then another. Her lungs burned, begging her to stop her foolish pursuit, but her legs kept onward. Corner after corner, she pushed herself until she stood outside a small white building. A small sign sat in the corner of the window that read: Miss Tropi’s Psychic and Tarot Card Readings.
Hanna sighed as she bounded up the small front steps and pushed the door open. The smell of cinnamon and frankincense greeted her nostrils as a small bell rang overhead. Hanna continued further into the peaceful room. A row of small wooden chairs sat leaning against the wall to her right. She smiled, wondering again if she had made the right call as a small brunette woman with curly hair and glasses bounded from someplace Hanna could not see. She shifted herself slightly as she readjusted her glasses and stuck out her hand, beaming at Hanna.
“Hi, Hanna, I have been waiting for you!” she chirped. Hanna stuck out her hand, grasping the woman’s in her own. “I’m Mikasa Tropi. Nice to meet you! Shall we get started?” she asked.
Hanna nodded.
“Okay then, follow me, deary.” Hanna followed Mikasa further into the building, taking in the sight of what looked like different offices, though they were nothing Hanna had ever seen before. Ghosts, Zombies, VX, were some of the signs Hanna had read as she continued to follow in tow.
Ghosts? Zombies? The fuck?
“Um…so those signs…” she began.
“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about those things, dear. We are focusing on you,” Mikasa said indifferently. “Ah yes, here we are. My office. Come, come, in we go!” Hanna gulped as her stomach knotted in on itself as she took a step forward.
The room smelled of the same fragrances she’d smelled wafting out the door. Hanna noticed the odd decor of the room, beads and crystals, posters of the chakras and books on auras. The room was lit only with candles, as it lacked windows. Mikasa scuttled about the room, stopping abruptly, she took a seat at a small table in the middle of the room.
“Won't you join me, Hanna?” Kasa asked. Hanna stepped forward slightly as her mind whirled and the pain in her skull ebbed to and fro like the ocean hitting a beach. Finally, she gave in and took a seat.
“What can I do for you?” Kasa asked, her tone taking on a professional note.
“I have a few questions for you,” Hanna said. Kasa remained silent as she nodded for Hanna to continue. “Is it possible for someone to transport themselves into another dimension, a dimension where the person can be in someone else’s head?” Mikasa’s eyes widened as she remained quiet. “I saw this boy, you see. A handsome boy, in my head one night, and I know that it sounds crazy and stupid or whatever, but he was real, and I don't think he knew I could see him. Like what’s that all about?”
“You have a gift, my dear.” Mikasa crooned as she reached across the table, grabbing one of Hanna’s hands. Hanna leaned forward. “There is something very different about you. You are gifted, there is no doubt about it. Tell me, have you experienced anything else?”
“Sometimes I see things before they happen. Some good some bad. But lately they have all been awful. Smoke and screams, cries of destruction, and I can’t shake them. I know something bad is going to happen. But I don’t know when. OH! And look at my arm! Strange markings have started making their way onto my skin, and I don’t know what the fuck they are, excuse my mouth, but it burns like a motherfu—” Mikasa raised her hand to her mouth in disbelief as her eyes widened in shock.
“The Mark of the Angels. You’re Forsaken,” Kasa whispered, horrified. “I thought you were all gone.”
Hanna leaned forward as she squinted her eyes, as if that would help her hear better.
“Kasa, I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch that, what did you say?” she managed to squeak out as pain singed Hanna’s vision, her peripherals tunneling.
Pushing herself away from the table, Mikasa stood abruptly. “You need to leave here and never speak of this place! Do you hear me? NEVER! GO! Get out!” she shouted as Hanna scrambled to her feet and rushed for the door.
******
Thirteen
Orian
Orian’s muscles ached terribly, as he pushed himself off the dingy gymnasium floor. He had never hurt so bad in his entire existence…until now, anyways. Panting, his lungs yearned for air as he wiped beads of sweat away from his eyes. His shaggy blond hair clung to his forehead, soaked.
Everything sucked.
Fuck this! Orian thought as he covered his bruised ribs from another beating. He winced from the stabbing pain that emanated from his side. Black edges threatened his vision and for a brief moment, Orian wished to pass out. He sucked in a deep breath and straightened, listening for the whistle of the staff to hit him again. This time he would dodge. This time would be different. But as thin whistle struck the air. Orian looked up and realized it was already too late. The crack of the thorn-wrapped staff hit him for what seemed like the hundredth time, ripping at his flesh as it left his body. Blood spattered the ground around him and Orian fell to the floor once more. Tears pricked at his eyes, and Orian fought the urge to spill them. The pain was unbearable. Hot liquid painted his white tee shirt red as the darkness approached. He was going to pass out. And the relief for that was welcomed in that second.
Just let me die, he groaned silently. Just let me lie here and die.
“Get your head in the game, Vanderwall!” his trainer, Jake, called out. Jake was tall and built like a machine, ready for anything that was thrown his way. His head was clean shaven and his piercing gaze burned into Orian’s back as he laid sprawled out on the floor, he was growing quite weary of Jake the more time he spent in the training center.
“Get up, you pussy, and fight! Fight like your life depends on it! Fight like a man!” Jake hollered. “Or I’ll beat the shit out of you as you wallow there on the ground!” Jake squared up again as he brought his modified weapon through the whistling air, crackling as it made impact with the side of Orian’s head. Pain seared through his skull as he lost all hope of getting up. Black clouds tunneled his vision as Orian gripped the side of his head; his hair now soaking red. He was a mess, a bloodied, horrifying mess.
“You’re going to die in the field if you can’t dodge a simple attack!” Jake yelled once more.
You’re going to die if you keep hitting me with that fu
cking stick! Orian sucked in a deep breath as he righted himself. Blinding pain scored his body like that of a thousand knives as he took his fighting stance once more. He wanted to double over and vomit, as bile burned its way up his throat, but he fought against it. He curled his fingers inward, until he formed two hard, stable fists, the familiar prick of white electricity swallowed his hands as Orian waited for his assault. Jake reeled back as Orian waited for the whistling of the air to cue. He tried to calm his inner anger, as he shut his eyes for only a brief moment trying to focus himself. He focused on his hearing waiting as the sounds of his enemy heightened, He focused on scents, blood, sweat, and copper as it poured from his wounds. Everything was coming in clearly.
That’s it! Orian crooned to himself. Just focus on anything but the pain. Just focus on the—
Footsteps clattered across the floors, small feet he could hear pitter-pattering.
Orian opened his eyes as he took in the sight of a frantic Mikasa whispering furiously to Jake. Her hair was a mess as if she had been running about all day, something that was unlikely in the Consortium library. So then, what was wrong? he wondered. Jake looked up, his face hard and unreadable as his eyes flashed with anger. He met Orian’s gaze as Orian straightened from his stance and began to make his way towards Jake.
“Get Hendrix now and notify the Elders. This changes everything,” He heard Jake command as he approached.
“But you’re not the boss. Shouldn’t Irisi know of the, errrm…situation?” She asked nervously as her eyes met Orian’s. His heart fluttered as he felt blood rush into his cheeks. Casting his gaze away, Orian wondered why she was having such an effect on him as his mentor grumbled in the background. Pulling himself away from his wandering thoughts, he shook his head and focused back in Jake and Mikasa as Jake turned to face him.
“Get out of my sight before I beat the living shit out of you!” he hissed. Orian furrowed his brow in confusion as he racked his brain for what the hell, he could have done to set Jake on edge. Was it his weakness that upset the guy or—
What the hell did I do? Standing upright, Orian’s back cracked, releasing fiery pain up his spine as he winced and moved towards Jake.
“I don’t know what your deal is dude, but seriously who the fuck do you think you are talking to?” he asked through gritted teeth. Jake ignored him however and moved towards the door, exiting. Orian stood, crouched holding his ribs as the lights to the gymnasium cut out one by one until there was nothing left but darkness…and Mikasa.
“You’re still here?” Orian managed, wincing as his pain ebbed throughout his torso. Everything was stiffening. Silence greeted Orian like an old friend as he pushed to stand tall. Though she couldn’t see him, Orian didn’t want to show weakness in front of Mikasa. She was a lady after all, and one that was affecting him in ways he could not understand.
“I saw her, you know,” Mikasa said, her voice barely audible above a whisper. Orian heard her however, his senses heightened. He slowed his breathing.
Who? he thought. Who did she see? and then it hit him like a tidal wave. His stomach lurched as his blood ran like icy chills through his veins.
Hanna.
“Hanna,” he whispered, as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. He began making out Mikasa’s slight form.
“She’s not well, you know,” Kasa blurted. “You need to find her. If you want to fix yourself, and your mark, then you need to save her to save yourself.”
******
Fourteen
Irisi
Irisi sat upon his glistening white throne, thrumming his fingers against its cool surface as a smile threatened his lips. He was happy, ecstatic even. Everything was going as planned and for that, he was relieved though he would not show it. There would be no death to the king, not today. Bliss. Yes, that was the feeling. The only death he would be seeing would be that of the humans soon. He let out a heavy sigh as he imagined blood squirting from the veins of the weak, splashing its ruby color upon his royal robes, saturating them. The thought excited him. He closed his eyes, imagining the screams of his enemies as they filled the air. Blood curdling, begging, crying…
Irisi’s cock twinged. It had been a while since he had been this excited about anything. He opened his eyes and cast his attention downward taking in his excitement as he pushed his hand down his pants and grabbed at his erection. His hand worked its way up and down as he leaned back, shutting his eyes. Irisi’s breath quickened the more he thought about man’s downfall. His lips parted as his hand quickened its speed, up and down, up and down, up and—
Lost in his own thoughts, Irisi failed to hear anyone approach him as he pleasured himself. The sound of someone clearing their throat, ripped his attention away. Irisi opened his eyes taking in the sight of General McAlister standing before him. He sat up, removing his hand from his pants, eyes searching for a servant. Wordlessly, he summoned a pretty little brunette before him and smiled, pointing down to his rigid member. The servant nodded and took to her knees as Irisi exposed himself to her. She kneeled before him, taking him into her mouth. Irisi’s breath hitched as he focused on the general, trying hard not to release his seed so quickly. Hendrix cast his gaze away though his cheeks were flushed, as he cleared his throat again.
“My king,” he said, taking a knee, waiting for the king to acknowledge him.
“General,” Irisi grunted.
“I’ve got some pressing news for you, sire, something that must take precedence over the annihilation of mankind.” Irisi grunted as he held his hand up, issuing for the general to stop speaking and turn away from him as he released himself into the servant’s mouth. Hot sticky liquid poured from within as he watched the pretty little thing struggle to take it all in, smiling as her throat struggled to work, watching as it spilled from the sides of her mouth.
He felt better, mind and balls clear. The brunette and Irisi both stood as she pecked him on the cheek.
“Go wait in my chambers,” he crooned in her ear gently, wiping his collection from her mouth with his index finger. A flicker of a smile played on her lips as she turned to leave. Irisi gazed after her, taking in the sight of her ass as she walked away and sat back down.
I will claim that perfect ass later, he thought. Yes, indeed. Sitting back down, Irisi beckoned the general to turn back around as he wiped his hand on his robe.
“And what could be so important that I must wait on the downfall of man?” he asked impatiently.
“Forsaken, sire.”
“The Forsaken are dead,” Irisi spat, growing irritated. He could be fucking that pretty little thing right now but instead he was here listening to his highest general drone on and on about nonsense. The Forsaken were dead. His father had made sure of it. Hell, he’d personally killed the last one himself back during the last war. He had gotten a promotion in rank because of it!
“No, my king. There is one left. Mikasa has seen her! She has touched her!”
“You lie. My father eradicated their kind. The Forsaken are dead he made damn sure of it. So, tell me, General, if my father wiped their king away, how can this be?” Irisi asked, thrumming his fingers against the cool metal of his throne.
“Mikasa lowered the veil. She travelled to Earth to gather intel for us. That is when she saw the Forsaken.”
“Then go. Go and gather my sons, gather your team. You leave tonight. Your team is not to know of the last Forsaken. The mission is as follows: go to Earth, gather information for the disease and come back. You, McAlister, start locating this parasite. I want it dead.”
“Yes, sire.” The general turned and left in haste, leaving Irisi alone with his thoughts.
Fuck.
******
Fifteen
Orian
Orian’s body failed to move from his plush, warm bed as the rapping on his door became harder. He was beat, mentally and physically.
“GO AWAY!” he groaned, rolling over on his side as his muscles tortured him some more. He lifted his p
illow over top his head, drowning out the noise and shutting his eyes.
Sleep, ah yes, that’s what I need, the sweet surrender of-
“Open the fucking goddamn door before I break it down!” he heard Karsten’s muffled yell from where he lay. Orian grumbled.
Just one more day, he thought. Just give me one more day before we deploy. Crunching from the door piqued Orian’s interest as he sat upright, watching as the pillow fell from his shoulders. Fine, you piece of shit, he thought. I’ll torture myself some more so you don’t break my door down. It’s the only thing giving me solace at the moment.
Orian winced as he stood up, audibly moaning as he struggled to walk, each heavy step threatening to pull his entire torso down with it. Grasping the handle, Orian yanked the door open, more forcefully than he had intended.
“What the fuck do you want?” he growled.
“McAlister has orders from Father. We are moving out to the Earth plane. Gather what is necessary and come with me,” Karsten said gruffly. Orian shrugged.
“I’m good to go,” he said as he pushed himself through the entryway, shutting the door behind him.
“You don’t want to bring a change of clothes? I mean come on, Orian?” Karsten smirked.
“Nope. Let’s get the shit show on the road. The faster we get this done the faster I can fuck some pretty little thing and the sooner you can get on burying your cock in McAlister’s ass,” Orian stated bluntly as he watched Karsten’s expression rapidly change as his temper began to spark.
“Lower your voice. I swear if anyone heard you, I’ll kill you,” Karsten threatened, his voice cold as he shot daggers at his younger brother.
“Can’t kill someone when you’re already dead,” Orian countered as Karsten’s face soured further. “Let’s go. We don’t have the time to be throwing insults at each other. You and I both know our father waits for no one.” Karsten’s body tensed as he clenched his hands into tight little fists. But the action did not go unnoticed by his dear brother.
