The Prophet Box-Set: Books 1-4

by David Beers

  Finally, the wires released their hold and Abby slumped down in her chair, her head lolling against the back.

  SHE’S NOT BREATHING! SHE’S NOT BREATHING DAMN IT!

  David wanted to shout, to light up the whole room with his voice, but his rage existed only in his consciousness.

  She was staring up at the ceiling, her chest not moving, her eyes glazed over.

  HELP HER!

  No help came, though, but her torso did finally surge out and she sucked in a huge breath, her throat releasing a raspy whistle as she did.

  Whether on her own volition, or her body simply overcompensating, she sat up and leaned on the table. She breathed heavily for another few seconds, clearly in shock, but David saw realization overtake her face. It morphed from basic survival to abject terror.

  She shrieked—a piercing, painful thing that seemed to have no end.

  “WHAT ARE YOU?”

  The robotic voice boomed back into the room, trying to gain control again.

  “I DON’T KNOW!” the young girl screamed back at it, tears pouring down her pale face.

  Help her, David thought. Please help her.

  The door to the right opened, an entrance David hadn’t noticed because he’d been so focused on Abby. Two people walked in wearing the same uniforms as those that had killed the family.

  Abby saw them, her sobbing immediately reaching new depths of hysteria.

  “Nononononono,” she cried over and over, the words nearly unintelligible.

  The two guards moved to her without hesitation. They ripped the young girl from the chair and lifted her into the air by her shoulders. They moved her to the back of the room, thrusting her against the concrete wall. They forced her spread-eagle across it, each guard brandishing a clamp. They slammed them against her wrists, and put two more on her ankles.

  The guards stepped away and the young girl hung from the wall, still sobbing.

  “WHAT ARE YOU?” the question came again.

  Please, David prayed. Please don’t let this happen.

  And as if the Unformed heard his plea, sparks started in Abby’s eyes.

  The guards simultaneously stepped back. One looked to the door.

  Good. Be afraid, you cruel fucks.

  The sparks’ intensity increased.

  “TELL US WHAT YOU ARE.”

  David’s eyes—when his power took hold and the snow began falling, it only ever filled up the internal portion of his eye. The gray never spread to the whites.

  He watched as it did now, though.

  The snow filled her entire eye so that nothing but static stared out at the room.

  The guards rose into the air, their arms and legs splayed out just like the girl’s. Their heads looked upward, clearly strained by some invisible force.

  Both of their necks snapped at the same time, their heads whipping to the right. They collapsed back to the ground and the smell of urine filled the room.

  A deep, raspy laugh sprang from the girl’s mouth. It didn’t sound human, however, but a poor copy of what a laugh should sound like. Someone who knew of laughter, but had never actually heard it, let alone done it themselves.

  “STOP,” the room’s voice spoke.

  The laugher grew louder and louder, until David could see the dead guards’ headgear rattling.

  “WHY HAVE YOU COME?”

  The laughter stopped. Abby stared forward, eyes ablaze, and her mouth opened some. “To claim what is mine.” Neither her jaw nor her lips moved as she spoke.

  “EARTH?”

  The laughter again, though her face remained still.

  “WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

  The girl switched from laughing to talking as if someone had simply touched a button. “I want nothing. It is you who want. I have no needs, no desires, only time.”

  The electricity turned on again; Abby’s body tightened and her limbs stretched out against the wall. Her face remained the same, though, staring forward with her mouth ajar, her eyes only flickering gray dots. If there was any pain, Abby’s face didn’t show it.

  The scene faded leaving David in darkness again.

  He watched them pull the body from the room.

  A young girl, not even close to her teenage years.

  Her clothes were nearly burnt off and her skin ravaged from the electricity. He saw that her hair had caught fire, burning most of her scalp and leaving the skin raw.

  They dragged her from the room as if she were trash.

  David looked away, unable to handle it any longer.

  He knew now what happened to the girl in his picture, the one he’d stared at for so many hours. She’d been burned like garbage.

  He was done with this, having seen more than enough, but it wasn’t done with him.

  The room was cleaner and more welcoming than the room Abby died in. David saw four people sitting around a table, each of them wearing some sort of decorative designation.

  These were the four representatives from the four Ministries.

  They were meeting, after having murdered a girl who had no choice in her involvement.

  Four others sat against the back walls, obviously the dignitaries’ assistants.

  David wondered how it all had happened. He’d been connected with the Unformed only a few years older than this girl, but he hadn’t been captured and killed. What had her parents done? Had they talked about the gift their daughter was given?

  Yes, he thought. They had, and that’s why there are still pictures of her. Because her parents thought it was something glorious and they wanted to share it. They didn’t have the knowledge you do, the understanding that the Ministries would never let Abby live once they understood what was happening.

  How long had she been connected? It couldn’t have been more than a few years, perhaps as little as one.

  “We examined the body,” one of the four at the table said. “There was some abnormality in the brain, though we’re not sure what it means.”

  David didn’t even bother looking at their faces, but stared at the back wall, content to listen to the killers. No need to view them as well.

  “Who cares what it means?” another said. “She was an aberration, a heathen.”

  They practically spit the word.

  “First, we need to be concerned with her followers. What is being done inside our domains to ensure they’re eradicated?”

  “We’re dealing with them.”

  “How? We don’t need another uprising, certainly not after what just happened.”

  “We’re flipping people. They speak when enough pressure is applied. They tell on each other. We’ll get them.”

  The room fell quiet for a moment.

  “I want to know what the brain scan showed,” someone said.

  “Her brain stem and neo-frontal cortex were both thicker than average. Much thicker. We don’t know if that’s what allowed the connection to It, or if the connection caused the abnormality.”

  “We’re sure that this wasn’t only a brain issue? We’re sure that there is something out there?”

  An awkward silence fell and David glanced at the group. The other three were staring at the one who spoke.

  “What brain problem would cause her eyes to do that? Or her voice? Does the Old World know something that we don’t about human abilities?”

  “Our official position,” the representative said, his voice hiding none of the hate in his mind, “is that this was the Devil. Our Bible doesn’t permit such alien creatures as you all insist on calling it.”

  Again, another awkward silence.

  “It doesn’t matter what we call it. Or what it is, really. The Devil or an alien, we know it wasn’t a brain abnormality. Something connected with this child, and the word spread quickly. We didn’t kill it; we only killed the child. Its vessel. If it returns, what are we to do?”

  David realized that this was the beginning.

  When the holocaust of people like him began.

  “Who says it�
��ll happen again?” someone asked.

  “It might. Whatever that thing was, it might try again.”

  “Diligence,” someone said. “We monitor our subjects more closely, and we kill off anyone who followed this girl. We kill off anyone we even think might have believed in her. We kill off anyone we think might be contacted in the future. To be clear, we kill anyone associated with it, and we continue killing them as long as this rock spins.”

  “I propose we meet back in a year, and we discuss what’s been done. We should all have made significant progress in both current tactics and future strategy.”

  Everyone around the table agreed. David found himself staring at the wall, having heard the direction for what would span another 5,000 years. He’d witnessed the brief conversation that would culminate with himself being hunted.

  He hadn’t known a lot about what happened back then, and the vision didn’t show him everything—but that hadn’t been the purpose. It filled in the details of what he already knew. It revealed what they would do to a little girl that had been dragged unknowingly into something encompassing all of time and space. It showed their evil in perfect clarity, and that regardless of the truth behind his action, of the fate in it all, they would do the same to him and everything he loved.

  There was one more thing for him to see.

  The woman was young, perhaps in her late twenties. She had blonde hair, cut short. She was thin. Pretty, though not strikingly beautiful.

  David was in her house, which clearly resided in the Old World. Two men were with her, one perhaps her father—the facial characteristics in each were too similar to not be family.

  The other man was tied up and gagged on the floor. His eyes were open, his left ear bleeding. A gash ran across his forehead, right through the middle of a large bruise.

  He was alive, and the woman and her father stood above him.

  Who is this? David thought.

  David had never been able to describe the Unformed’s communication. It didn’t start in words, but rather a feeling that possessed David. It came over him all at once, wiping away any of his own thoughts or desires. The feeling consumed him, and it was in those moments that he truly understood the Unformed’s power. David didn’t exist for a few moments, becoming only a vessel for the thoughts of another being that was too vast, too powerful, for him to ever fully comprehend.

  He knew the Unformed was being gentle in Its communication, too. It had to be, or else David would cease existing forever, his own consciousness obliterated.

  Eventually, the feeling always coalesced into a thought, the Unformed’s crippling nature receding.

  This is your opposite.

  David stared, his mind slowly coming back to itself. There were more questions to ask, but he didn’t want to. It was too much, the Unformed’s communication. Even four words left David empty, as though every particle of energy had been exhausted.

  His mind slowly regained momentum and he returned to the present, listening to the man and woman talk. He needed to figure this out on his own without the Unformed answering him. He simply couldn’t take much more.

  This was her. The woman he had felt.

  There was nothing to her visibly, but David knew that meant little. The girl he just watched die hadn’t seemed like much, but those like him weren’t relying on their own power. They relied on the Unformed’s.

  And that’s where his confusion arose.

  Because how was she David’s opposite, if the Unformed wasn’t connected with her?

  He moved in closer, looking at her eyes. Dark green. A bit darker than his own.

  He looked to her father, at his hands. His knuckles were swelling, which meant the girl most likely hadn’t used her power to disable the man on the floor.

  David turned back to her.

  The Unformed was listening, and if David asked, he would be answered.

  But the weight of it, the pressure.

  It didn’t matter how this was happening right now. He could figure out how she attained power later. He needed to know what this woman would do, because if the Unformed was showing him her, then she was clearly important.

  I felt her. On my own.

  This is your opposite, the Unformed had said.

  Only one question mattered, and it was the one David had been asking since this all began. He steadied himself.

  What do I do?

  The scene in front of him played out, David not knowing if it was something from the past or if it was happening now. It didn’t matter. He waited for the Unformed.

  Perhaps 20 seconds passed, and then the feeling again rolled over him—if it could be described that way. His own thoughts disappeared, shattered by the external being filling him. His vision hazed and he lost focus on the faces before him, his mental state weakening quickly.

  Slowly, the words coalesced and the weight upon him drained.

  She will kill you. No one else. Only her.

  David felt himself growing more conscious, more aware of his surroundings. For a few seconds, he thought he was going to be okay.

  And then the weight rushed back, crushing David. There was no way out. No life after such pressure.

  Two words came as blackness overtook him.

  KILL. HER.

  Fourteen

  The Old World Ministry

  Daniel’s hands hurt like hell. His body, too, though that was more from soreness than injury from the fight.

  “I need some water,” he said, suddenly feeling weak. He sat down on the chair in his living room.

  “Are you okay?” Nicki asked.

  “Yes. Just get me some water please.”

  He watched as his daughter went into the kitchen, then turned to the man on the floor. The sun was up outside and only the man before him had slept any the previous night, primarily because Daniel had knocked him out.

  The bastard was strong, though. Deceptively so, and if he hadn’t been in an awkward position strangling Nicki, Daniel doubted he’d still be alive. He doubted Nicki would be either.

  The man stared back at him, his eyes calm, as if this was all part of his plan—to be bleeding and tied up on the ground.

  Daniel kept the gag in his mouth. They had searched his vehicle and his person, but found nothing. There was the gun, which Nicki pointed Daniel to, and then the folder full of Nicki’s medical records. There hadn’t been anything else in the car, and for some reason, the man hadn’t brought the gun when he broke in. Daniel thought he had wanted to use his hands. The gun wouldn’t be intimate enough for the sick fuck.

  Still, they saw no indication of who he was or who sent him. He hadn’t said a word either.

  Daniel supposed he didn’t need anything else, though, except to know why the man was here.

  Nicki came back into the living room carrying the glass of water. She walked over to his chair and handed it to him, then took a step back and looked at the stranger.

  “What are we going to do?” she whispered.

  Daniel didn’t have too many plans floating through his head, but he couldn’t very well tell his daughter that. She was looking for him to lead. “The Church will know he’s missing by the end of the day. He’ll need to check in or something, and when he doesn’t, they’ll know there’s a problem.”

  The man lay on his side, his eyes fixed on the wall across the room.

  “Then they’ll send more,” Daniel said. “To look for him, and to find you.”

  This was a real mess, and Daniel hadn’t thought it could get this bad. He knew he’d said things to Nicki, describing how careful they needed to be but—

  You didn’t really think they’d send one, did you? Because they hadn’t done it before, not to you or your family. Maybe to others, but not to you.

  “Was it the Church that sent you?” he asked.

  The man did nothing; he didn’t even blink.

  “Useless,” he said and leaned back in his chair. He tilted his head up and looked at the ceiling. A few seconds pas
sed and he knew Nicki was waiting. “We’re going to have to leave. There’s not really any other option. They’ll be here by tomorrow night, the next day at the latest.”

  “No,” Nicki said.

  Daniel’s head shot up, his neck turning so that he was staring at his daughter. “What?”

  She shook her head. “No. You’re not leaving. I will. It’s me they’re after. I’m not dragging you into this.”

  Daniel laughed. Lord in heaven, how had he done so poorly raising this girl? He’d tried to teach her what the Church wanted her to know and shelter her from all this. Yet, now as the world was growing colder, her naivety showed just how poorly prepared she was.

  “Honey, either we both go or we both stay. We’re not separating.”

  She shook her head again, tears in her eyes now.

  “You think that if they show up here, and you’re gone, but I’m not, they’re going to let me live? Whatever they want to do with you, they’ll do the exact same thing to me.”

  Nicki said nothing, only stared down at the stranger for a few seconds.

  “I … I don’t know,” she said. “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I don’t want you to have to leave everything, the restaurant, the house. Your life.”

  Daniel put the water glass on the end-table, sat up on his chair, bracing himself on the armrest, then stood up. He ignored the man on the floor as he stepped to his daughter. He pulled her close.

  “None of that matters. It’s you that matters. It’s always been you. We’ll leave together and we’ll figure out what to do, but together. This isn’t your fault. It’s theirs. It’s that man’s on the floor and the people that sent him. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  They hugged each other for a time, neither wanting to release. A minute or more passed, and then Nicki said, “What do we do with him?”

  Daniel let go and turned around. The man still stared forward, not acknowledging them at all. Daniel ran through the options in his head, not wanting to say them aloud. Telling Nicki wouldn’t help matters any—

  Wait. I’m still doing it, he thought. I’m still trying to shelter her, and I can’t anymore. Because the truth is, I might not live much longer, and I will die if it means she keeps living. And if she’s alone? Sheltering her now won’t help a bit.