“They shall not bend, they shall not break, they shall never yield, ready to be summoned by the Phoenix in the field.”
In that moment the sword behind the glass faded into nothingness and instantly reappeared in Kristian’s right hand, which coinicided with a loud whistling sound that ended in a deafening pop. The sword didn’t feel as heavy as Kristian remembered; he recalled its weight, it had been substantial, a burden to carry around with him. That wasn’t his impression now, it felt light, it felt true. He lifted the sword high as he enjoyed the way it made him feel; this was soon broken as the thought of the Jakyll entered his mind and brought him back to the room. He quickly opened the glass cabinet and took out his Phoenix uniform.
The suit was a little tight around the shoulders and waist but he managed to get it on. After strapping the sword to his back he stood and admired how he looked in the mirror. He soon stepped back into the elevator and made his way back up to the main complex. As the doors opened, he was surprised to see how many people were in the lobby. Walking stiffly out, he was soon accompanied by Kieran.
“Still fits then?” Kieran said behind a cheeky grin.
Kristian’s reply was to grunt as he lifted his arms up, just over his head to stretch the material. “Good material, luckily it’s stretchy!” he said as he turned his attention to the crowd of people near the door.
There standing in front of him were Andrew, Peter and Jonathon along with Roman and an entourage of security guards and assistants. They all had a look of concern and deep thought on their faces, although when they noticed Kristian’s approach, they let out smiles filled with hope. Andrew moved over and patted him on the shoulder. “It looks snug!” he said. “To see you in your Phoenix attire makes me very proud of you, very proud indeed.”
Jonathon did not speak to the assembled group, he merely turned his head and whispered into Peter’s ear. On receiving Jonathon’s instructions Peter nodded and headed past Kristian back to the elevators.
The door next to the elevator opened and a red-faced, very flustered Rachel came storming out. She quickly moved past Peter and acknowledged him with a soft “Peter”. Peter nodded and proceeded to the elevator but let his finger linger on the ‘open’ button for a few seconds.
“Jonathon?” Rachel said, out of breath as she passed Kristian. As Jonathon turned, Rachel looked over to Kristian. “Wow,” she exclaimed. “You look good in that. You do know what you’re doing though, right?”
“Don’t worry about me. I know what this means,” Kristian replied.
“Rachel,” Jonathon said as he swung his arm around her, moving her to one side and concealing the conversation from the rest of them. “Is it good news?” he asked.
“The package has been delivered. Kara said she will look into it,” Rachel replied between breaths.
“Good. Now what about Zhing?”
“No word as yet, I’m afraid. Her phone is not connecting, I went back to where I dropped her off but I couldn’t locate her. Do you think something may have happened to her?” her breathing was slowly returning to normal.
“No,” Jonathon said, not too convincingly. “She can handle the Dark Phoenix, I’m certain of it. Please keep all of this to yourself. You’ve done a great job.” As he spoke, the elevator doors behind them closed. The pair separated, Jonathon returned to Andrew and Roman’s side while Rachel moved next to Kristian and Kieran.
“Hey, good luck, okay? And please, be careful!” As she spoke she held his gaze a moment too long. She turned to Kieran who was looking a little bemused.
“You too, Kieran. Look after each other, okay? And Kristian? Kick ass like a real Phoenix”. She ended by kissing them both on the cheek, Kristian first then Kieran. Looking like she was about to break into floods of tears, she turned hastily to leave, but her exit was blocked by Jonathon who, accompanied by Andrew and Roman, had walked over to the younger group.
“You still here, Miss Winters?” Jonathon asked.
“I’m sorry,” Rachel replied as she manoeuvred herself past the men and left the lobby.
The five men then all turned and looked to the main doors as a group of guards opened them, revealing two cars that were parked up outside.
“Right, is everyone ready? We all know the plan, right?” Jonathon’s voice was firm and determined and he sounded strong. Kristian knew that many people questioned Jonathon’s leadership of the Order and there were many who considered him too weak, but there were moments when, like this, danger loomed and Jonathon showed his true, strong character and it was then that you realised why this man was their leader.
“Yes,” they all nodded, the adrenaline prickling through their bodies. Kristian ran through the plan in his head. He was the bait, he was to lure the Jakyll into a magical circle, which Kieran and Roman were to create. The magical circle would trap the Jakyll and teleport it into one of the magically reinforced prison cells that the Order maintained. Kristian thought it was a good plan and he was pleased to be part of it. A part of him wondered why Rachel had not been included in the plan, but he was glad she wasn’t.
This is going to be dangerous, Kristian inwardly thought. He stood up straight and put his hand on his blade; pushing his hair away from his eyes with the other hand, he looked at Jonathon and with an unwavering voice said, “I’m ready!”
…
The sound of nails scraping against metal had etched itself deep into Bryan’s head. The sound had been going on for over an hour now and was really starting to get to him. Banging his fist against the partition grill he yelled, “Shut up.” Leaning forward and resting his arms on the steering wheel he glanced at his watch.
Ten minutes left, he thought. The butterflies in his stomach took full flight as nerves kicked in. He and his companion, James, had been entrusted with a dangerous mission, one that could create mayhem and destruction.
Sitting in a large white transit van that had a sliding door on one side, Bryan and James looked out onto the unsuspecting crowd, each passing person oblivious to the horror that lay within. It was past midday and the square was packed with hundreds of tourists and lunching office workers. The pair shared a look with each other as they contemplated what was about to happen to those here, blissfully enjoying the sunshine and the beautiful sights of the city.
His watch beeped; flicking the switch on the side, Bryan turned and smirked; it was time. Exiting the van the pair walked around to the sliding door. They opened it on the count of three and climbed into the back. In the corner lay a white middle-aged man. He was wearing once-white clothing, which had become torn and now looked dirty. As the light hit the man’s face, he rose to his feet, eyes wide and pale, gaunt face filled with fright.
“No, please no!” the man pleaded, his voice was soft and placid, and his mannerisms timid. Bryan moved over to him and removed the restraints from his arms; his hands were dirty, his nails black and blunt from scratching at the metal doors of the van. As soon as the restraints were off he attempted to dart for the door but was immediately stopped. Grabbing his legs and arms, Bryan and his accomplice began to drag him from the van.
Wriggling like a worm attempting to free itself from the clutches of a bird, the man screamed loudly. The high-pitched shrieks emitting from his saliva-filled mouth got the attention of passers-by; some turned a blind eye while others merely stood and watched as though this was part of some sort of street performance, some strange show for tourists; no one tried to intervene. The pair walked casually through the crowds to the fountain at the centre of the square and without hesitation, they threw the screaming man straight into the water. A larger crowd had now congregated in the already packed space as they seemed to eagerly anticipate the next part of the ‘act’.
The frail body hit the water and pockets of steam billowed into the air. A few of the spectators gasped in surprise and wonder. The water bubbled frantically as the man twisted and turned; through his screams he accidently began gulping down mouthfuls of water. His muscles began to enlarge a
nd the already tattered clothes began to tear from his torso and legs; his body tripled in size in a matter of seconds. The skin that encased the muscles hardened to form a thick red jointed shell that encased his entire body. His eyes bulged and stretched so they almost flooded his face and shone a silvery-black colour. As spikes began to protrude from the man’s arms and back, the gasps and screams amongst the crowd stopped being those of surprise and became fearful, panicked. Continuing the grotesque metamorphosis further, what had, seconds ago, been hands were now vicious claws with long red nails. The face, too, was turning red; the ears were expanding and the nose shrinking. His mouth became large; his teeth were now individual white blades, resembling those of a shark.
Slowly standing up on its dark red muscular legs the Jakyll rose from the fountain. Water cascaded from the many crevices of its shell and, glaring menacingly at the crowds, it let out an almighty roar that shook those witnessing it to their cores with primordial fear. The crowd began to scream, some tried to flee, others were frozen to the spot, unable to take in what they were seeing. The panic intensified and spread quickly as the Jakyll leapt out of the water and onto dry ground, which sent shudders along the pavement. The air became thick with the sound of fear as people began running away, pushing and pulling each other frantically. The shocked spectators glared with fright and some would have sworn that even Nelson and the great lions in Trafalgar Square also trembled with fear that day.
Salivating, the Jakyll was consumed with the need to feed. Its dark, penetrating eyes scanned the square quickly and located a meal. Its selected prey was a middle-aged Chinese woman frozen in fear. Saliva began to drip from its open mouth as it snarled ferociously. Arms outstretched and legs bent, it was ready to pounce. An instant later it was in the air, sailing through towards her. Legs finally giving way, she fell to the floor in fear; the woman could only stare with abject horror at the creature as its sharp angles and wickedly smiling mouth seemed to float in slow motion towards her. Tears began to fill her eyes as images of her children filled her head. She tried to lift her arms over her head but the weight of the fear had paralysed her body. Just as she was resigning herself to this fate, through the blur of tears she saw a bright jade flash.
Inches away from its prey, the monster was hit with a bolt of blinding light. The impact sent the beast flying off its course and into the corner of one of the fountains. The sheer force of the Jakyll sent shards of stone in all directions. Lifting its head, it turned to look in the direction from which the blast had come. There standing in front of it was a man dressed in a dark black suit, arm outstretched and ready to fight. The man glared at the Jakyll with goading eyes; it was Kristian.
The Jakyll let out another almighty roar as it clambered awkwardly to its feet. Its back was arched and its arms spread as it roared louder still. Kristian removed his sword from its sheath on his back with one swift and graceful move. With a flick of the wrist he arced the blade through the air in a beautifully executed move.
With only a millisecond to react the Jakyll was once again in the air, gliding, but this time towards Kristian. Kristian reacted instinctively, he too leapt into the air, his jump was much smaller and almost before he left the ground, he was landing just over a metre from where he left it. Rolling forward, he moved himself into position. His legs were in a forward splits position, his back arched and his blade close to his chest. With a flick of his neck, he looked up to see the Jakyll soaring overhead. Almost simultaneously and with a single movement, he swept his sword into the air and the blade cut into the hard, deep red shell of the beast’s abdomen.
The Jakyll collided with the ground. Kristian stood up effortlessly to face his opponent, who was now again scrambling up to its feet, holding its chest with one long claw. No blood poured from the wound but it was clear to Kristian that he had caused the creature great pain; the large gash was visible along the creature’s hardened belly.
Kristian held his sword close to his face so he could see both his blade and the monster before him. Looking into the reflection of his sword, he could make out a pale smoky ring behind him. He understood it was part of Roman and Kieran’s teleportation spell. The ring was currently floating in mid-air, slowly settling down to the ground. Then once it made contact, the spell would be almost complete; all that was needed was for the Jakyll to become trapped in the centre.
The monster charged towards Kristian who leapt in the air, spinning over the charging creature, landing perfectly on his feet. Kristian could now see the smoky magical ring floating behind the Jakyll. As the two opponents were now within easy striking distance of each other, Kristian knew he had to act fast; he stretched out his hand and a stream of bright green energy jetted out. Slamming hard into the Jakyll, it began to force him backwards, but the beast adjusted his footing and countered the blast. Kristian could feel the Jakyll’s resistance; it felt like someone had gripped his hand and was trying to push his fingers back. Concentrating harder than he had ever done, he focused more energy into the stream of blinding jade.
The Jakyll’s sharp talon-like claws dug into the ground, but did little to oppose Kristian’s renewed attack. The Jakyll was being pushed back as its feet were carving up the pavement. It roared with anger and frustration. It was only a metre or so away from the smoky ring that was now just a foot off the ground. The Jakyll glanced behind, the ring of smoke was confusing, it couldn’t fathom its purpose, although just its presence gave it the sensation of confinement. It then dived sharply to the left, and the blast of pure green energy caught its legs and sent it spinning hard along the ground.
Kristian not only saw the Jakyll’s escape but also felt it, he dropped his palm and terminated its blast. His response was quick, but not quick enough as the bolt of energy collided with one of the fountains; the blast sent rubble flying high. Water began to flow in Kristian’s direction. He turned to locate the Jakyll and saw it charging at him again. Acting on instinct alone, he twisted to step away from the rushing water surging towards him. His left foot slid one way as the right one rose in the air; unbalanced and with no power behind it, he barely moved, instead he stumbled. Through all this, the monster had made a giant leap towards him from a few metres away, and before Kristian could react, it had collided with him, banging him hard in his shoulder. Falling awkwardly to the floor, Kristian’s sword flew from his hands. He felt immense pain in his shoulder and the coldness of water soaking into his clothes.
He looked up at the Jakyll who unlike him was now already back on his feet, racing towards him. Kristian scrambled to get to his feet but his hands slipped and then, whilst barely at a kneel, the Jakyll pounced on him.
Falling backwards from the impact, Kristian was now lying on his back with the monster on top of him. He let out a blast from his palm, which sent the beast flying upwards a few feet. Kristian quickly turned his body and, using every ounce of strength that he had, he threw himself into the air. Spinning up, he thought that he was clear enough to arch his body and return to his feet.
As Kristian moved through the air the Jakyll was coming down upon him. With a desperate scythe of its talons, the beast clawed Kristian’s chest; the stabbing sensation shot through his body but he managed, with a flip, to land himself back on his feet, almost perfectly.
Kristian looked at the Jakyll as it fell to the ground with an almighty thud. The pain in his chest raged and as Kristian looked down he saw rips in his suit. Though he was soaked through with water his chest felt sticky and warm; his hand gently touched his upper body and as it did the pain intensified and sent shocks through his entire being, making his legs twitch. His head began to feel heavy as his eyes lost focus. He found himself fighting to remain alert.
He had been gored by the Jakyll and the pain was almost unbearable, he could think of nothing else. Kieran, watching all this unfold, gasped and moved slightly as though to try and help, but he stopped himself, he couldn’t break the spell. Roman, who was in deep concentration, could feel Kieran’s anxiety and followe
d his eyes towards the injured Kristian.
Both Jonathon and Andrew were standing at the side of the square and when they saw the impact of the beast’s claw on Kristian’s chest, they both wailed. They knew that if Kristian had been injured, he would be infected. They too were consumed with the desire to help, but Andrew was also in the midst of trying to cast a spell and Jonathon’s gift was not of the offensive type. Jonathon instantly left Andrew’s side and darted to Kristian.
Kristian felt so heavy, heavier than he ever had felt in his life. His legs were weary under the strain and the pain was all-consuming, he couldn’t handle it. He was on the verge of giving up when the Jakyll let out a huge roar, sounding almost victorious.
The sound instantly awoke Kristian from his haze, his eyes locked onto the Jakyll who was staring at him. Kristian began running towards the white ring that now rested on the floor. His pace was slower than he had hoped and the Jakyll soon caught up to him and again leaped upon him and knocked him to the floor. He grabbed the Jakyll’s arms and pushed him high into the air, the beast was frantically clawing at Kristian, trying to scratch and maul his face. Saliva from its jaws dropped onto him as he desperately tried to avoid the sharp teeth of the beast. Again, the Jakyll roared and Kristian could feel his arms getting heavier, the teeth were edging ever closer to his face. Bending his knees and bringing his feet up to the Jakyll’s chest, he was sure his legs were going to snap at any second. With all his strength, Kristian managed to flick the Jakyll clean over him; the beast did not fly as high as Kristian had expected but luckily the beast continued to tumble along the ground, just rolling over the smoky white line and into the circle. Shaking its head and returning to its feet, the Jakyll looked as astonished as an emotionless face could.
The Phoenix Chronicles: Alone in the Light (Book ONE) Page 23
