The Sword of Gabriel: Ten Days on Earth

by Tom Holloway

  “Anna, yes, yes, I understand.” I also smile, yet I know better.

  “Henry, all right, you can kiss me.”

  We arrive at the nightclub, and I don’t want to go in; however, the limousine door opens, cameras are going off, lights are flashing, and before I know it Anna has me in the nightclub, sitting at a big table with lots of famous people, and she’s introducing me as her boyfriend. She is happy, as it is her right to be, and I am glad for this moment.

  She has no security team. She asks why she would need anyone if she has me, the most dangerous person in the universe, and a massive military starship overhead with lots of troops. She laughs and says, “On top of that, at least five federal agencies with armed teams are all around us. The president has less security.”

  I laugh! It feels good to be with her.

  Anna is quite famous, and she pays for nothing wherever she goes. The nightclub is delighted she is here—it’s great for their reputation—and everyone in the place acts like they know her. She says she wants to dance with me to some great music and asks if I am up for the challenge. Not sure I have danced before. She teases me about dancing in my cabin in front of an illusion, like a created reflective wall of people dancing to music. I look at her, shake my head, and laugh.

  She looks very sexy and smiles coyly, moving her hips back and forth, slowly spinning around, laughing, saying we need to dance. She tells me not to pay attention to the crowd, as everyone will be watching. Cameras are to be ignored. She starts to lead me to the dance floor. The music is loud, too much noise to talk. We are using telepathy now.

  I smile and project my thoughts: “I have a new experience for you, too, if you want to experiment, and if you want to risk our dignity. We can do even better than regular dancing. We are telepathic, both of us. We have the possibility to really come together in a dance no one in this world has ever done. For example, on some worlds there are mating dances that telepathic couples dance, where they mind meld, like before at dinner, yet more. It is the coming together of two beings, both physically and mentally, during the dance, both in perfect rhythm, totally synchronized as both bodies and minds are perfectly moving to the music as one. It is very sensual, primitive, and erotic. I have never done this kind of dance with a woman before, just seen it.”

  Anna looks at me and says, “Can we do this here? Is this music right for it?”

  I say, “Yes, I think so Anna, yet I think you should pick the music. I’ll be in your mind much more than ever before. I will lead you in the dance; I will be in your brain. We will really be together. We will meld into one. I think it might be scary for both of us. It’s very erotic, and it will arouse you. It’s on the exhibitionist behavior list, not quite having sex in public yet not far from it. Are you OK with that?”

  She responds, “Sounds crazy and wild! I know I should say no. I don’t care! Let’s do it. I know just the song that will work. It has a lot of rhythm and a good beat, not too fast. You’ll love it. It’s called ‘Amazing’ by Seal.”

  Anna continues, “This is all incredible to me. I never knew life could be so good. Henry, you make me so happy, and the dance meld sounds exciting. Let’s try it.” Anna goes toward the DJ stage, saying, “I’ll get them to play the song. Are you ready, Henry?” She makes her way to the disc jockey, smiling at him, asking him; he fawns over her, his eyes loving her and says he is delighted to play anything she wants.

  Anna is back, and we go onto the dance floor. There are people everywhere, cameras pointed at us, strobe lights sparkling on and off. Everyone knows who she is, and the rest of the couples and dancers part for her, smile at her, loving her, her beaming back at them. She is absolutely beautiful, in her element, a goddess among Earth’s creatures, and who is she with? I can’t believe that I am with her. Does not get better than this.

  I hear the music change. Anna looks at me, and I feel her. This is the right song, just perfect. It sounds fantastic; I can feel Anna’s excitement, too. The beat is just right, the rhythm, the tempo, the song’s lyrics; it really is amazing. The song is for Anna, although I am sure Mr. Seal, who sings it, had someone else in mind.

  As we feel the effects of the song, I start to enter her mind, and she resists. I probe gently, and she gives in to me. We are in mind meld, mentally together as one. We start dancing, swinging in perfect timing, our hips close together in rhythm, our arms intertwined. We are so close, moving fast, hands locked, perfectly synchronized with the song, our bodies moving to the beat as one, changing directions perfectly, putting our backs to each other, swirling. Then we physically meld together, facing each other, locked in each other’s arms, hips moving faster, totally sensual. We are both aroused. We lightly kiss. We are in perfect harmony with the music, eyes locked most of the entire dance, almost never losing connection even as our bodies move in and out, sometimes swirling yet always in sync.

  It is supernatural, awesome, and magical, and even wilder—even more crazy—ten or more tiny security slips are swirling around us in rhythm with our movements, all are lit up, looking like sparkling points of brilliant lights. Absolutely magical! I am not sure why they’re there; maybe the force of my mind signaled them. It’s mind-bending for the people watching this, too. The intense excitement of the moment is causing my mind to fully project, which is more powerful than planned for, as I have lost some control. It is pushing out powerful mental penetrations into everyone in the room, and they are feeling my emotions through my telepathy, capturing their minds. They feel my emotions as I feel them. The raw force of my mind is incredible, and they are part of me, as is Anna.

  None of the others are dancing by themselves. All are dancing with us, even the DJ, all entranced, staring at us, mesmerized, captivated in this amazing moment. They are all clapping to the beat, hands over their heads, swaying back and forth just like us, all of us moving in perfect unison with the music, all spellbound by the moment as my mind is throwing off the powerful stimuli they feel, holding them spellbound. They engage our emotions and accept us in their minds, all swaying in sync with us. They feel our sexual intensity as if it is their own, and all are aroused. It is tribal. It is primitive. It is magic! And everyone there feels it. We slow as the song slows, and it ends with Anna and me kissing deeply. I can feel her powerful sexual arousal, she feels mine, and we awaken from the trance to yelling, whistling, and clapping, laughter, tears, and smiles. They all feel our love and this primitive sexual stimulation. We all felt the dance as one, pure magic, then a group mind meld. This is new territory for me, too.

  Anna laughs and says, “Henry, we have to go. This is really embarrassing, and to leave at the finale is good!” She is flushed, embarrassed by her sexual excitement, breathing heavily, feeling the passion and again saying we need to go now, right now. She says she can’t stand it; she needs me right now. We need to try to make it to the limo. She says she can hardly wait. It’s hard for her to walk, she says, laughing. She has never been so aroused. She might not make it to the limo. She says it’s my fault, and we need to hurry!

  Laughing again, she yells, “Henry, please hurry!” She grabs my arm, and we are making our way out fast, slowed down by everyone hugging, smiling, laughing, and giving us high-fives. We push through the crowd. I have to push to break through, helping Anna, although she is doing some pushing, too. Soon we are in the limo and heading out.

  Anna yells at the driver to just drive anywhere and close the window between us. Then she strips, ripping off her silk blouse, then her skirt, slipping off her panties, and then helping me take off my clothing. She’s breathing hard, really rushed, and we are together again, both naked, and she is very ready. Then we are in a new mind-body meld, similar to the dance before but much more physical, powerful in another way. We are moving in unison again as our bodies are intimately joined at the hips. Anna’s legs are wrapped around me. She has multiple orgasms, wild and vocal. We simply wear ourselves out, and we can hardly move. We are both exhausted. I’m astounded!

  We put on
our clothing slowly, laughing, joking, acting like teenagers, yet we both still feel the incredible passion, still can’t keep our hands off of each other. Anna tells the driver to please head home. Wow! It’s no wonder humans have sex. I feel truly blessed, never knew.

  Chapter 32

  A Serial Killer—Day Nine

  It is late when we are on the way home, around midnight, yet I am not tired. We are not far from Anna’s house. Going there reminds me: I wonder what is happening with our hunt for the serial killer. The Cyclone immediately responds, saying it’s glad to hear from me, and the mission is going forward. We know who the serial killer is and where he lives, and we are on the way there now. The girl, Caroline, is still alive, thus we need to move fast. Forty legion guys in my guard are currently ready to go. They will use the dog soldier armored gear and descend to overwhelm the security guards and guard dogs using stun weapons. It will be over fast. This is overkill, as these guys could take on a couple of army divisions. Ten or so security guards is nothing.

  Our serial killer is wealthy, with enough money for a lot of armed security guards. The estate grounds are high-walled, with lots of cameras, and the mansion is secluded, with a sophisticated security alarm system. There is also a large lead-lined vault in the basement, used as a panic room or, more likely, a prison for his victims. This guy’s name is Sebastian Branski. He is in his midforties and made his money developing software. He is worth millions. He sold his companies and, as he said, retired to help mankind; he’s now a philanthropic celebrity, with several charities and a foundation. He never married. He teaches at Berkeley part time and is good with the ladies. He meets many at charity events, which is probably where he acquires his victims. He is at his mansion in Malibu overlooking the ocean, not far from where we are. Anna and I can be there in a few minutes. I think maybe we should be there. Our attack is going to happen immediately. We have to hurry. The girl is still alive in the basement vault, according to the drones. Branski is about to kill her.

  It is still a basement, as it smells a little moldy; maybe it’s all the stale air, even with the paneled walls and working ventilation. There are no windows; the room is private and soundproofed, quiet, with only the soothing sound of the vent fans. It is actually a real vault. Sebastian loves the room; it is a place with good memories. It looks like a hospital room, with an operating table and bright overhead lights. There are also all kinds of operating-room tools and equipment: scalpels, surgical saws, pliers, and some weird stuff—leather straps, paddles, and whips. In the corner there is a toilet and a huge sink with an attached shower. There is an adjoining room that has a toilet, too. It has a bed with attached chains and handcuffs arranged just right, pleasing Sebastian greatly. It also has a huge steel door that locks.

  Sebastian is smiling, cleaning the blood off the scalpel in his rubber-gloved hands, looking down at what used to be a lovely young woman. She is now bleeding where both ears are missing, her face swollen horribly, blood everywhere. She is naked and strapped to a steel table, on her back, mouth taped shut and eyes taped open. She is still conscious enough for him, although she’s close to catatonic from six hours of torture and sexual abuse. He slowly cut off each of her ears, careful not to put her into shock. He thinks it is time for her breasts. Cutting off breasts is always a delight, so sensitive and so much pain!

  The girl is way past terror, now gone to a deep place in her mind. She has surrendered to her fate. Curiously enough, she is thinking of her sister, Elisabeth, and her father, her mother, of her wonderful childhood, all of them a close family. She and her sister could have made their parents proud; they both loved people and were doing all they could do to make a difference, working endless hours for good causes, mostly helping the really poor and the really sick. She and her sister tried to be kind always, never turned away from hardship. Now the sickening, excruciating memory of her twin sister being tortured comes back. She was forced to watch, vomiting from the horror, knowing her turn was coming. There was nothing she could do to help as her sister screamed and begged for both their lives. Her sister loved her, asking God to save her. Elisabeth suffered yet asked God for mercy for her sister. The sorrow and sadness were overwhelming. Did he kill her?

  She looks up and sees him over her. As he grabs her face, she tries to scream. The grisly scalpel in his hand slowly comes down to her again, the agony to come again, and his delight in her fear and pain…then…

  Whoosh…bam-bang!

  Without warning there is a massive ear-splitting blast. An explosive detonates in the room. Sebastian instantly uses his arms to guard his face, falling back off of her, shrieking in fright.

  There is another bright-white, searing heat strike, as a second thunderous concussion explodes from up above, and a second blast of dirty air full of dust fills the room. His face is mostly behind his arms, and he’s looking out, his face expressing sheer terror, dirt in his eyes, both eyes big and wide, his mouth gasping for air in the dust and smoky powder, and coughing. Then…

  Bammmmm…ga-bam!

  A third explosive blast of air hits him, knocking him farther back, on to the concrete floor, combined with brilliant hot light, more searing heat, and deafening bedlam. The overhead lights are gone, and bright searchlights beam down, blinding to look up at, lighting up the entire room, as a violent airflow clears out the dust in the room.

  Caroline is totally bewildered as she watches Sebastian eerily rise up over the room, suspended in the air. There is no ceiling; actually there is no house, just a black night sky. It’s all gone. He’s screaming at the top of his lungs in sheer horror as two massive furry, clawed hands have a grip on his neck and shoulders, bringing him higher into the air, propelled upward by some unseen force. Then two more hairy hands that also are not human grab his leg and the hand holding the scalpel, twisting it, the scalpel falling.

  Over the room, up high, in the night’s air, hovering, she sees what Sebastian has seen. She must be delusional, as she sees demons. They’re everywhere, massive, eight feet tall or taller, terrifying wolf like creatures, large jaws with fanged teeth, dark-red hair, and deep-throated growling, like lions or werewolves. They have demonic red glowing slit eyes. They are now roughly thumping Sebastian, beating him into submission, forcing him to do as they want. He is screaming in pain and terror. They are putting him in a strange silver metal tube that is weirdly floating in the air about twenty-five feet up from the huge hole above her, the werewolves hovering over him. His entire body, now limp, is being clamped in, part by part, and the screaming stops when his mouth is covered by a tight black mask with breathing tubes that are connected to a small cylinder attached to his tube. His eyes are ghastly, ugly black holes, both eyeballs gone.

  She is hoping for a quick death from these demons, probably the spawn of Satan coming to collect Sebastian. She no longer has the will to live; the pain of her many wounds is intense. Then, to her alarm, she is rising. She feels the fast momentum. She is surrounded by some kind of weird light, pulling her steel table up, with her on it. Then her strap ties are coming off as she is placed in some kind of strange, totally white wonderful space, on her back, floating free. She looks up and sees the most beautiful woman she has ever seen, maybe an angel, although amazingly enough she looks like somebody she knows. She hears the woman talking to her in a soft, soothing voice, with tears running down her face, telling Caroline she will be fine, fixed up good as new. The healing process has already started. She says, “Don’t move.”

  She feels herself being lifted again, like she is floating, not sure how. A silk covering is on her, and she actually feels good, then there is a comforting blackness. She wakes as soon as she blacked out, or she thinks so, lying on a very soft bed, her face up, looking at a silver metal ceiling. She is not tired. Her body feels stimulated, no pain, feeling superb, like she’s never felt before. She immediately looks at her wounds on her hands, and they are gone. The pain and soreness in her face are also gone, and there’s no pain coming from her ear stubs. She
knows Sebastian cut off her ears, as he made her look at each one after the mind-bending pain of his handiwork.

  Her angel friend is bathing her with a peculiar-looking sponge. The woman smiles at her, saying, “Caroline, I’m almost finished. Your body has been cleansed, or almost done. And some good news, your ears are fine now.” She tenderly puts the girl’s hands up to her head. Caroline feels normal ears. Her ears are back, as if they were never cut off. Has this all been some terrible nightmare?

  This is all impossible. For one thing the beautiful angel washing her is Anna Summers. She recognizes her as the famous movie star she loves and always wanted to meet. Maybe she’s dead, and God has granted her this last wish. She asks, “Are you Anna Summers, the movie star, or are you an angel? Am I in heaven?”

  Anna laughs, tears come to her eyes. “No, Caroline, you are not in heaven, and yes, I am Anna Summers. You have been through a horrific experience and have been saved by a friend of mine. You are on the starship Cyclone, in their medical clinic. We are orbiting Earth. My starship friends have technology we do not have on Earth. Many molecule-size drones repaired you very quickly, and you are as good as new. In fact you are better than new, healthier and with a long life ahead of you. I know it’s hard to believe, but really it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you are OK, and you will see your parents tonight—that is, after I finish cleaning you up. You will have one of my dresses, and I will take you to your parents’ home.”

  “Caroline, try to focus on what I am going to tell you. You must be strong going forward, as many people need you. Your sister would have wanted you to survive. All of this is awful, totally inexplicable; it never should have happened. Yet you will eventually sort it out. The world needs people like you.”