Legacy of Judas - Book One

by Aragon, Christian

  Now I believe I know who and what Ms. Johansen is, though I’m quite confused as to how she can be wrapped up in all of the trouble which seems to be surrounding Vincent. From everything Victoria has read in this journal I believe she also has a clue about what this woman is. We both need to find out exactly who she is.

  It had gotten a bit late in the evening. Though Victoria knew she was already too emotionally exhausted, she couldn't let this go. The children pointed out to us Ms. Johansen’s specific doorway in the row of humble brownstones. Vic was anxious to go in, but she was far from letting herself get stupid about it. Not with the forces which could be at hand. She asked me and the children to spread out and watch the property for anything different or out of place. She was going to do this thing just after the dawn’s first light. She crumpled up in her back seat and pretended to sleep till sleep took her in.

  Journal entry XXXVII

  Sunday morning.

  Johnny returned from scouting out Ms. Johansen’s house. Johansen awoke early and took a walk, in her elderly form, to a nearby church. Instead of going in she just watched the members of the congregation enter the big, white double doors as she walked by at the slow pace one would expect of an older woman. The priest was out front greeting the members of his flock as Johansen passed by. He asked her politely if she'd like to join them, to which she snapped, O-Hell no!

  Johansen returned to her modest home where once again she retired to the darkened confines of the abode. Vic quickly drove over to confront her now that we knew where she was and that it seemed she would be alone. I followed Victoria up to the door and found myself tempted to simply walk in.

  “One step at a time…” Victoria reminded me and I respectfully stood fast and at the ready.

  Only a moment passed and we could hear the door unlocking from the inside. Soon it cracked open and Ms. Johansen’s wrinkled face peered out from the darkness of the interior.

  “Victoria Niles? Is that you, child?”

  “Yes, Ms. Johansen. It’s very important I speak with you. May I come in please?”

  “I do suppose you may. One moment please and I’ll be right with you.”

  The door closed for a moment and no sound was heard. This time I couldn’t help myself and I peeked through the wall to see what was happening. There was nothing. No light or distinguishable shapes of furniture, no smells or textures not even a candle. Then the curtains beside me seemed to separate slightly and a beam of sunlight sliced into the darkness then faded off into some great distance without illuminating anything. I heard the door opening and I quickly pulled myself from this void and returned to Victoria’s side.

  “C’mon in, young lady, and make yourself comfortable.”

  We entered into a living room area with little light, which was decorated with knick-knacks of all sorts from thimbles to porcelain cats of many sizes, colors, and patterns. One of the porcelain cat's was entirely plaid. The furniture was old for this time, but well taken care of; one could even say it appeared as if they had never been used at all. There was no electronics except an old record player tucked away in the corner of the living room, steadily pouring out Big Band songs at a subdued volume. Just as my eyes focused into the shadows of the room I noticed the dark places in the room weren't just dark but rather infinitely dark. It seemed as if all the creature comforts of the room were being contained within a great shadow which was masked by the outwardly appearance of this home. Just then Ms. Johansen apologized for the gloom and proceeded to throw open the curtains and blinds, and as soon as the light entered the room the infinite shadows became carpeting and wallpaper, more knick-knacks and glass cats upon antique furnishings, and all set in orderly fashion on clean hardwood floors.

  Victoria was invited to be taken on a tour through the home, and look through some old photos, but wisely she saw the attempt at distraction from her purpose here and asked if she could simply sit and talk. Ms. Johansen took a seat with a questioning expression on her face.

  “Ms. Johansen, my sincere apologies, but I’m not here to take a tour through your house or the history of your life. I’m here because I need information I believe you’ve been purposefully keeping from Vincent's parents, and by design, from me as well.”

  “Oh, child. Whatever do you mean?”

  I really don't like her tone. Ms. Johansen’s voice was suddenly a mixture of nervousness and a poor attempt at being stern. I believe she knew damn well what Victoria was leading up to.

  “I’m talking about Vincent’s disappearance, Ms. Johansen. I believe you’re the one who orchestrated his overseas college acceptance to purposely send him away from here. I believe you have a lot of explaining to do about who you really are, what you’re doing, and most importantly, what you are.”

  For a moment Ms. Johansen’s face was blank, and then her brow crumpled in the center as if she were fighting back anger or frustration, and then her face relaxed again as she looked upward as if seeking something.

  “O-child, but you see by asking these things of me you are asking for a tour through my life’s history. I suspect you have already seen things far more foreign than most people can contemplate. I also suspect you know something of suffering, but not just your average suffering like that which people experience every day; starvation, rape, persecution, disease, etcetera. I suspect strongly you know something of the suffering which can only be experienced by the immortal souls of humans. Am I correct in these suspicions, child?”

  Victoria was shocked at first over the suddenly candid and seemingly open exchange Ms. Johansen was giving. Victoria saw this as a smokescreen and pushed through.

  “It's what I don't know about Vincent that concerns me. What do you know?!”

  My concerns, and the concern of the others within the book, were over the now apparent possibility that somehow Ms. Johansen knew Victoria was in possession of the Book of the Damned. We could only hope she didn’t know, but she was persistent with the subterfuge instead.

  “Do you know what the name Vincent means, child? It means, Of The Conquering One. More specifically, and most probable in relation to the conquering one, it means, Right Hand Of The Conquering One. Your name, in its masculine tense, means, The Conquering One.”

  “You’re judging us by our names? Who the hell do you think you are? What does this have to do with Vincent and me, Ms. Johansen?!”

  “Child, we believe you may be the next Conquering One. We believe you are in possession of certain abilities, and we may need to remove those abilities from this plain before those abilities grow too great.”

  Victoria kept her composure, but her breathing became short as her anger and frustration grew. I must admit we were nervous about this conversation and where it seemed to be leading.

  “What do you mean by we?”

  “Child, I will show you simply because I believe you have already seen stranger than I have to offer you sight of. I do hope you are prepared …” And with those words Ms. Johansen stood from her chair as if she were suddenly renewed of her day’s energy, and then some. Victoria also stood from her seat and stepped back quickly trying to expect the unexpected. Ms. Johansen quickly disrobed before Victoria leaving not a stitch of clothing to cover even the most intimate of her withered, aged, and motherhood-battered physique. At this same moment in which Johansen disrobed, the sight of each and every one of us within the book grew blurred and we were disoriented when attempting to look upon Ms. Johansen, though we seriously doubt it was due to the sight of her life’s story spelled out upon her physique. I quickly tapped into Victoria’s sight hoping to filter and see through her eyes. Our sight was still a bit blurred, but from what was being revealed before Victoria we were finally able to understand at least part of the magnitude of what was surrounding this young woman’s life. Then it dawned on us that instead of watching through Vic’s eyes we could watch her memories instead, as they formed, and not entirely unlike watching live television.

  Just as the seven young souls had d
escribed to us previously, Ms. Johansen’s entire physique, from her colorless gray hair to her toes riddled with arthritic knuckles and corns, all became perfectly young and vibrant right before all of us. Her very flesh gave off a faint and warm glow that almost seemed to ebb and surge all over her skin and hair like the warmth of the sun being cast off its surface. She was as perfect a specimen of a woman as any woman could ever hope to be. Her body was firm and supple; even a touch muscular and athletic. Her hair was golden and flowing. Her face — soft, kind, knowing. Her movements were simple, seemingly meaningful, and as graceful as a breeze in the Spring. We were all caught up in the moment and the sight of her. We were all speechless and Victoria was on the verge of drooling having not noticed her mouth gaping open as she looked upon her very first angel. More specifically; her first Guardian Angel.

  “My name is Katrina. At least, that’s my favorite name of all those I've been gifted. I’m an angel and an agent of Heaven sent here to watch over you and attempt to guide you in the most beneficial ways whilst you travel through your path of life.”

  Even her voice was pleasant and distinctly feminine. Melodic in a sense. She was no longer the gruff old hag we had all suspected for so long being a demon sent to find the Book of the Damned. The sight of those of us within the book was blurred and even blinded to what she was because the origin of the book lies within everything she is not; sin, suffering, and the infinite multitudes of tortures the mortal conscience is capable of. Were it not for watching Vic’s memories as they formed we’d have witnessed none of this splendor.

  Katrina’s a pure and ancient soul who has known from the beginning exactly who she is within each of her lives. This is not to say she knew she was an angel. This is to say in each life she was innately self-aware of her interests, passions, limitations, etc. She has lived without the trappings of guilt over those things which were simply innate to humans and chosen to accept and be of service to others instead. Now she was here to watch over Victoria and try to help by attempting to influence her decisions. All so Vic could live the same kind of life Katrina has lived so many times over. She escalated through the ranks of angels after each mortal life till becoming a guardian.

  Now we are faced with one great question: Why the fuck did she just say she's Vic’s guardian angel?!

  Normally angels and demons simply hitchhike within the subconscious. They attempt to plant seeds of thoughts and decisions which can ultimately only be chosen to be acted upon by the person they try to guide. There’s an order of things which dictates angels and demons are not capable of directly making themselves known to those they try to influence, though some have obviously broken the rules from time to time. Sometimes the mortal breaks the rules completely by chance during moments of cataclysmic distress. Such a catalyst causes a brief union between the waking mind and the subconscious which doesn't normally exist, and in that moment a demon can cause immense evil or an angel can enact awesome good, or the mortal can, for a finite moment, usurp the strengths of the foreign force and exercise strengths not normally available.

  Something’s changed. Obviously Katrina is not in any direct contact with Vic’s greater consciousness, so how can she claim to be her guardian angel? Fortunately Katrina was already obliged to answer this question, and even more so fortunate is Victoria was quick enough to not let any terribly meaningful information escape the conversation unheard.

  “Child, I have been allowed to show you my true form because of circumstances which have never before come to pass or even been foretold in the slightest. I believe you know of these circumstances even if you choose not admit the truth openly to me. Several years ago seven young children met with a very untimely demise. Though untimely demises are far from unusual, what is unusual is the seven souls of those children have been missing since that day. We believe you know at least something of what I speak of.”

  Victoria was hard pressed to keep from falling into a fit of tears as she suddenly realized her mistake with those children was greater in magnitude and scope than she had ever previously been able to fathom.

  “You’re speaking of Johnny and his friends, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, child, I am. What do you know of what happened to them?”

  “I know the school bus was hit by a drunk driver and the seven of them died in the ensuing crash. That's what I saw from the front window of the house we were living in at the time.”

  “My sweet Victoria, you know angels can see the real truths behind the masks mortals disguise them with. Are you sure you don’t wish to tell me more?”

  Victoria was suddenly able to swallow her tears and fears very easily. She is full of surprises, even in the presence of an ancient and beautiful soul such as Katrina, and refuses to allow her agenda here to be derailed.

  “Clearly you’re not as able to see truths as you would have me believe. If you are an angel then you could’ve described to me exactly what happened to Johnny and his friends before, during, and after that crash if you truly believed I was lying to you. Is this the sort of thing you believe you can just do to anyone? Do you believe you can talk to me like a poorly scripted after-school television special?! I have nothing to admit to you! Even if God Himself sends out His angels to watch over us equipped with paranoia and half-cocked suspicions! I suggest you go find someone else to waste your talents on!”

  Once again, and to say the least, we were impressed.

  “Well … fuck! That's actually a relief to hear.” Katrina was suddenly relaxed, she even slouched a bit as she took her seat again side-saddle with her feet tucked into the cushions. The act was off and Katrina was suddenly as honest as her nude form.

  “I meant you know disrespect, kid. Let me explain myself, please. I chose you to be the next mortal I wished to watch over and help guide before you were even born. Your soul has so many special circumstances surrounding it that you couldn’t begin to realistically understand the interest we had, and still have, in you. Just moments after your birth, when I was going to join myself to you through your subconscious, something happened with your soul and I was suddenly thrust away. I have only been able to watch over you as Ms. Johansen, and from a distance at that. My hope is to one day retake the place in your life I had fought other guardian angels so hard to gain. I didn’t know then, and to this day I still don’t know, how or by what force I was thrust away from you. I thought it was the work of a powerful demon; something our agents in Hell had not yet informed us of. But despite all my efforts I could not find nor observe any evidence of a demon having rooted into you.”

  “So, why Vincent?”

  “First off, let me be clear that this isn't easy. Guardian angels and demons, especially Ebony Demons, aren't much more than really manipulative significant others you don't even know you're spending your nights with. I busted a horizontal crack in my heavenly ass to be YOUR guardian and I was thwarted at the birthing …”

  “Yeah, I get it, Katrina. You worked hard for the promotion, and then the job turned on you. Welcome to our world. Why Vincent?!”

  “NO! You don't get it! You have no idea the graces which were to be bestowed upon you. But perhaps I'm being selfish? I've never failed in helping to keep mortals on the best possible paths in their lives. Such an occurrence as this one has never been a stumbling block in my path before. I’ve felt for a great long time now that I’ve failed you. Because your mind is so readily capable of seeing me as I really am, I have not even been able to approach you or directly cause influence upon your life for fear of being discovered.”

  “Why now, then? What is it that has changed your situation so much that you’ve decided it best to show me who you are now? And what the fuck is going on with Vincent?!”

  “It’s the seven young souls. They were completely untainted by sin and therefore they were under the watchful eyes of both Heaven and Hell. Because those seven souls were taken from our sights it was an obvious indicator the rules which govern Heaven, Hell and Earth may have suddenly and dramat
ically changed. You have no idea the epic amounts of bullshit that hit the fans when those seven went missing. No untainted souls have ever gone missing or unaccounted for at any time in the history of Humankind having souls.”

  “It sounds like it’s time for Heaven and Hell to get new accountants. Those seven kids died that day while I watched. That really is as much as I need to know about what happened. But I'll tell you this; while Heaven was supposedly keeping track of those seven, they should've been keeping track of their piece-of-shit parents and how they were raising them! Now, are you going to tell me what you've done with Vincent or not?!”

  “I haven't done anything with the boy. Victoria, you two have a bond and strengths Heaven has seen as being important enough to keep an eye on. Your names together are far more than random coincidence, and the rarity of your souls adds a great deal to your circumstance. Separating the two of you is simply better for the big picture.”

  “You're not going to tell me anything you know about what's happened with Vincent, are you?”

  “No. I am not.”

  “Why did you move to New York?”

  “To be closer to you.” Vic nodded slightly, and then her gaze drifted from Katrina and to some far away thought for a moment.

  “Good night, Katrina.”

  We hadn’t even noticed it had gotten so late. It was almost as if time had sped by us while Victoria and Katrina had this conversation.

  I moved behind Victoria as she turned her back on Katrina and took her leave. I was no longer in direct contact with her mind, though I tried to concentrate on Katrina just the same. Her form was little more than a blur of mist or smoke until she reverted to her Ms. Johansen guise, then she was easy to see again except for those creepy eyes. As Victoria’s peripheral vision lost track of her surroundings the room grew infinitely dark again in all directions behind her. As we stepped out the front door Ms. Johansen and her tattered form was the only sight still distinguishable. The door slammed behind Victoria and we all breathed a sigh of relief.