Chris Hicks pulled up in front of Temple Eliyon with a caravan driven by the Southern Wolf Pack. Chris smiled as he approached the Mujāhidūn wearing an expensive black suit, black shoes and a pair of Rayban’s blotting out the bright sun. His shiny bald head glistened in the sunlight; his skin perfectly tanned.
“Sir. You are allowed entry into the Temple, but the wolves are not,” Damir said with a smile.
One of the wolves shot him a bird, but Chris told him to stand down.
“That's fine,” he said as he walked towards the door. Damir began frisking him and Chris sighed.
“I don’t have all day,” he said, with a slight attitude.
“Neither do I,” Damir replied, leading him to the rooftop sun-room where The Prophet sat patiently waiting drinking tea.
“Oh dear Prophet. I thank you for meeting with me today,” Chris said dramatically as he walked up to the table with an untrustworthy smile. The Prophet said nothing, only motioned for him to sit.
“Well, why have you come Chris?” the Prophet asked, getting straight to business.
“Not in a mood for chit chat?” Chris asked with an exaggerated sad face.
The Prophet stared. Down below, another caravan of black SUVs pulled up each carrying a half dozen wolves. Damir watched them close as their faces gave the look of something sinister. Nearly thirty wolves came out of the cars, along with three human members of Ordo Viscenti Regalus.
Damir pinched the small radio on his jacket and whispered: “Mujāhidūn. Assemble in the parking lot. We're about to be attacked.” Chris Hicks poured himself some tea.
“Ordo Viscenti Regalus has been in existence for about ten years now. We started off as a fan club chasing UFOs and ghosts, seeking knowledge but we never found any answers. But since the gathering at the Obelisk, we have been enlightened all thanks to you dear Prophet. I have always known that there were secrets in this world, power. I mean, hell, it’s too big and too old for there not to be anything hidden. Then day by day, I began to see. Secret orders all around us, each having mysteries and great power hidden in plain sight. Seals, and mottos, signs and passes which lead to occult knowledge of the gods. But, because we are not in the popular clique, OVR and the Southern Wolf Pack, amongst others, are excluded from these secrets. Why?” he asked, holding his hands out.
“As you may or may not know, the Order of the Star and Crescent operates outside of the Council of Nine as well. See, we are not a magical order unlike those which you seek friendship with. We can offer you nothing.”
“Oh but you can. See just the other day, one of my wolf packs came across something sweet. A witch. A lone witch who under casual questioning told us how things work. She told us that you interpret the prophecies given to the Dactyls of the Hollow. And that these prophecies are inscribed in a book which you possess. I wish to see this book for myself. Just to make sure she wasn’t lying,” Chris said smiling.
The Prophet sat his mug down and gave Chris a sharp look. “No? I thought you might say that. So I hope you don’t mind, since you’re such a charitable man much like myself, if we don’t take a look ourselves,” Chris said as he whistled. The wolves below began changing from the human form into battle mode.
Damir sounded the Mujāhidūn and took up arms. The wolves began attacking the Mujāhidūn as The Prophet sat silently. Chris smiled. One of the wolves attempted to enter the temple but his skin began to burn.
“We can’t go in!” he shouted, just before his head was taken off.
The Mujāhidūn had the upper hand, until another caravan of wolves pulled up to join the fight. The members of Ordo Viscenti Regalus slipped past the battle and entered the temple with no issue.
“I guess it’s just the wolves who can’t come in,” said the man in the black goat mask.
“No shit. Now where is the book?”
“It’s in the great prayer room. I think it’s at the end of the hall,” the man in the skull mask replied, as the pig masked man took out a gun and shot a Mujāhidūn in the head.
“Nice shot!” goat man said as they started to run down the hall. “You will never succeed,” The Prophet said.
“Oh I think I will. Now get up and show me to the book,” he said, pulling out a gun and pointing it at him. The Prophet began to laugh, quickly pulling out his scimitar and slicing the gun in half.
He hopped across the table and put it up to his neck; cutting deep enough to make him bleed. “You and your men had best leave here if you wish to survive the day.”
Chris began to laugh as five beams of light flew past them and crashed into the parking lot below. The landing caused quite an explosion; the sound of bodies slamming against the walls of the temple sounded like meat falling out of its packaging.
The five barons appeared out of the smoke from their landing; the battle between the Mujāhidūn and the Southern Wolf Pack ceased momentarily as they were confused as to why they were there. Samedi walked between the dead bodies and laughed as the stares of fear fed his ego.
He ran his fingers alongside the black stone of the temple and they began to burn. He stared at his scorched hand and became furious. He released a soul curling yell which alarmed all in the Hidden world. The Prophet's eyes widened as he knew his time had come.
“Prophet! Do not hide behind this wall of stone! Show yourself and face the tribunal of the House of Guédé!”
The Mujāhidūn turned their attention to the Baron who looked back at them with disdain. Findley made a wrong turn, riding his bike right into the parking lot of Temple Eliyon. Shit! he thought to himself, as he sped up his pace. At his side was a large satchel and as he made his way through, he dropped a card. Samedi picked it up and saw that it was the Tower card. He laughed.
“Cimitiére! Introduce these peasants to your zombii horde!” he ordered. Cimitiére did as he was commanded and threw his top hat on the ground. The bright sky which gave the morning promise turned dark. The black clouds which fell heavy upon the low sky began to rumble as lightening began striking the Earth. Like phantoms, one by one the zombii army rose holding scythes; dressed in black hooded robes that were torn around the arms and legs.
The sound of their scythes clanged against the diamond blades of the Mujāhidūn as Malak walked out with his hands behind his back. He bowed to the five Barons giving reverence to their presence.
“Barons, we don’t know why you've come, but the Order of the Star and Crescent have made no offense to the House of Guédé. And we ask that you leave us in peace.”
Samedi walked up to him, grabbing him by the collar. His hands burned into the side of his throat. The Mujāhidūn looked to make a move but they were busy with the zombii. The wolves found themselves engaged as well; falling quicker to the end of the scythe than the well trained Mujāhidūn.
“No offense you say?” he asked laughing.
“Put my son down!” The Prophet shouted, as he threw Chris Hicks to the ground. Damir stood behind the Prophet shooting a callous look towards Malak.
“Oh here he is!” Samedi said, throwing Malak against the wall.
“This is no place for your evil. Return to your realm and leave the living be,” the Prophet ordered.
“Evil? I am not evil. Evil is simply a matter of perspective you see. Awaken the masses! Whose bright idea was that? Hmm? And evil deed from my perspective,” Samedi said.
“The affairs of Malkuth have nothing to do with the Barons!”
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Allow me to give you a little history lesson. I was there, the last time one of you prophets attempted such a thing. There was war and destruction like you wouldn’t imagine. Every man and woman on this planet proclaimed themselves gods, destroying the realms of the old ones that had taken the long sleep. The angels protested against humanity. They called them murderers, the shedders of blood. In a way, I suppose it were true. Evil, we were to them and it was so. A pact to keep the masses asleep was not a war tactic by the likes of the angels, no. It was for the protection of all creation.
You humans are too stupid to wield the secrets of the gods,” Samedi said.
“It is not for you to judge or dictate the will of man. The world must be made anew. And it will be. The awakened will --”
“Destroy everything!” Samedi shouted.
“It matters not. This is not our creation. Each of us has a time to exist and a time to return to the dust. You Barons are not exempt from this fact. You know this to be true. Because I know of the one who cracked your mask Samedi. Those ancient ones which you believed yourself to be higher than. They still tug at you, wishing for you to return to their realm so they can tear you apart. It is not the sheeple which you fear. It is oblivion. The realm of the forgotten who sleep awaiting resurrection,” The Prophet said as Samedi extended the blade on his scythe, making a sword.
He thrust his sword to stab the Prophet, but a Mujāhidūn jumped in his way. The man died instantly. The Prophet met Samedi's sword with his own as he attempted to fight for his life.
Chris Hicks and his men crawled to one of the SUV's and hopped in. “Sir, we couldn’t get the book,” the skull faced man said.
“Fuck the book. We have to get out of here!” Chris said, starting up the engine.
The zombii heard the engine hum and began chasing them. A zombii sliced the tire, causing them to crash into the mountainside. Chris Hicks flew out the front window and tumbled, but the zombii did not pursue.
The Prophet and Samedi continued their sword fight, and La Croix was becoming impatient. “Just kill him already!” he shouted. The Prophet lost his scimitar and he lifted his hands in surrender.
“You have done well to clang blades with the Lord of Purgatorio, but now you must die. Are you ready to meet your maker?”
“I am.”
Samedi took a cigar out of his mouth and threw it on the Prophet. His entire body went up in flames. The Prophet's screams could be heard down in the bunker where the women were gathered. Recia closed her eyes as she knew. Samedi laughed evilly as The Prophet wailed.
“This is just the beginning. And I'm not done yet,” Samedi said as he took flight. The Barons followed him, leaving the Mujāhidūn to mourn.
32
the barons have fallen
Baron Samedi found himself flying near the downtown district of Atlanta smashing cars with his fists. He landed atop the tallest building he could find and stared at the fire and smoke which began to rise. He lit a cigar as he could hear the voices of his believers slowly return in his mind.
“La Croix. Do your thing,” he said. La Croix gathered their non-believers; rounding them up in the cemetery. One by one he began planting his crucifix garden; reveling in their moans.
“See here humanity. I am a god you see. One that is to be worshiped, to feared. You suffer because of your disbelief, your ill heart. But there is daylight behind the cloud of bad judgment. As you take your last breaths upon the cross I want you to enjoy your last moments. For Purgatorio will be your new home,” Samedi said, blowing smoke in their faces.
Kriminel took delight, but could hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Hundreds of sheeple and living dead marched side by side with guns and other weapons, heading towards the cemetery.
“Kill the devils!” they shouted as they picked up their pace.
“You've got to be fucking kidding me!” Samedi shouted, spitting out his cigar.
Findley came riding past them again, catching a confused gaze from Samedi. As before, he dropped another card which Samedi picked up. The judgment card; painted with an angel blowing a horn. Samedi threw the card to the side, as he walked down the center street to meet the crowd, his eyes looked towards the sky.
“Shit! Looks like we left the door opened,” he said as a small meteor shower began to light the dark skies.
“The angels are here to save us! Heaven has descended upon the Earth!” the living dead shouted. They began to shoot at the Barons, throwing stones and other objects which they thought would cause harm.
Samedi was livid and held up his hands, causing all who stood in the road to fall dead. Three red trucks parked around the corner from the Barons and a group of men got out.
“Alright. Now is the time to fill your ngangas!” The Man said as they placed their cauldrons on the ground; sucking in the spirits of the dead.
“These traitors are mine!” Samedi shouted as his will began to crack their ngangas.
“Whoa! Great Baron! We meant no offense! Please. We only wished to take the souls of the living dead to fill our ngangas. We will leave them if you wish!” he shouted.
Samedi let the Paleros go as he felt the approaching doom coming from behind him. Ariel walked up to the Barons, clapping his hands as a myriad followed behind him.
“My, my. What a display of power from the lords of Purgatorio. Isn’t it funny how you earth bound creatures always seem to do as you were created?”
“We are Gods! We do what we wish! No one creates our destiny!” Samedi shouted.
“Is that so? For you see, it was prophecy which foresaw the coming of the white horse; he who went out to conquer. And it is so. The Prophet has done his duty according to the will of the great book,” Ariel said.
“The Prophet receives the messages of god from a book --”
“Which Gabriel gave to his order some time ago. The Prophet and Dante see what the great Demiurge wishes them to see. And they act accordingly. You however, play your part as well. See, while Purgatorio sits just above the realm of Malkuth, Heaven has been lacking in prayers, in power, and devotion. Like your realm, we must receive the heart of the people. But you, Samedi, have been taking all of God's prayers. And we can’t have that. So as the Prophet awakened the masses their first order of business was disbelief. In you. Because if they cease to believe in you, you will cease to exist,” Ariel said laughing.
Samedi laughed, putting a gold cigar in his mouth while La Croix clapped back.
“Nice plan angel. Nice plan, but we have another one. For you see, we Barons can do no harm to you in Purgatorio. But that rule does not apply here on Malkuth,” Samedi said as La Croix took his cross and impaled an angel. The angel exploded into millions of feathers. Ariel looked shocked and ordered for his angels to attack.
Cimitiére conjured his zombii and they began slicing at the angels. The Paleros watched from a distance; in awe of the magnificence of the Barons. Mama Gee and Doctor Pete showed up with Guédé Masaka in the back of their truck.
“Well you was show right. All the Barons are right here. Fighting angels. But why?” Doctor Pete asked.
“I don’t know. I just know we need to be here till the end of it,” she said.
“Where are the Orders? Where the Knights be?” he asked.
“I don’t think they know about it.”
“The Paleros know. They right over there!”
“Yeah, but they just come for the spirits of the dead. That’s how they feed their ngangas,” she replied.
Their conversation was ended as the body of a dead angel fell on top of their car. Mama Gee hollered as it scared her to death.
One by one, the Barons lay waste to the angelic hordes; Ariel attempted to cower and escape. Baron Piquant stood on his wing and shook his head. La Croix filled the street with rows and rows of crucified angels who were dying slowly but surely. Kriminel began eating their flesh, finding himself coming back to his powerful old self. Samedi grabbed Ariel who was laughing, mocking the Barons.
“This is only the beginning. Not you, or all the magic on this planet can stop the coming of the times. You see, Wormwood falls, awaiting the sound of the third trumpet. It is written and will be done!” Ariel said as Baron Samedi began squeezing his skull, cracking it and splattering it in his hands.
As the Barons stood victorious, Samedi attempted to see past the sky into Purgatorio. His eyes widened as he could see millions of angels swirling down the tree through Purgatorio towards Earth. He lifted his hand in attempts to close the barrier, but couldn’t do anything from Malkuth. He
tried again and this time each of the Barons fell to their knees; weakened by their vessels.
“We've been here too long. Our powers are fading,” Cimitiére said. They tried to return to Purgatorio, but they were planted on Earth.
“What's going on? Why can’t we go back?” Kriminel asked.
“It seems that Heaven has taken control of our realm boys,” Samedi said, looking up at the angels. Mama Gee pulled the truck up next to them and hopped out.
“My Barons. I knew I was supposed to be here. Best get you in the truck and take you to the house,” she said happily. Samedi smiled at her, his white skull mask began to fade.
“Y'all feel weak cuz you need to eat. Your body is like a human’s and it has to rest. Now come on before somebody see us,” she said. The Barons hopped in the back of the truck and Doctor Pete was delighted.
***
Mama Gee headed back to the Keepers’ headquarters, while the Paleros gathered what remaining spirits were around. A black SUV pulled up near the battle sight just yards away from La Croix’s crucifix garden. Chris Hicks got out of the car, taking his suit jacket off and throwing it on the back seat.
His face was full of bandages and bruises from the crash just outside of Temple Eliyon. He walked through the piles of dead angels and humans, shaking his head and laughed.
“Are you ready sir?” the man in the pig mask asked him.
“I am,” he replied, placing a mask of a horned goat upon his head.
The pig masked man began recording the carnage around them, and motioned for him to begin speaking. Caden yawned as he made his way to the Grand Rotunda, turning on the lights, computers and televisions preparing for his shift. He poured himself a cup of tea when he nearly choked to death while watching video reports of a mass killing in downtown Atlanta. The news report only showed the bodies of the dead, piled like cattle going for the slaughter.
“The CDC has been deployed to ascertain the cause of this virus which has taken the lives of a few hundred people suddenly. As you see from the tape, the people who appeared to be marching suddenly fell dead, one by one --” the reporter went on.
Knights of Enmity: The Barons Have Fallen (Descending Fires Book 1) Page 38
