Evolution of Angels

by Nathan Wall

  Maya’s lips pressed against Kirk’s, and her tongue slithered down his throat. His body convulsed as his genetically altered sandy blonde hair turned into a jet-black mess. His eyes reverted to their original color, and his cheekbones and squared jaw morphed into a fat round face. She stood, pushing off of Kirk’s aching chest, and walked toward the throne. The half-naked gladiator once again bowed.

  “Another impostor posing in our great Lord’s armor,” she said, sliding her long lacy gloves onto her hands. She spun around and sat on her throne. “Kill them both.”

  “No. I can be of service.” Hershiser stood, using all his strength, and ran toward the steps of the throne. He flung himself to the floor, his face down, and held his hands together. As if betrayed by a friend, his heart split in half. He pleaded with her. “I will do as you say.”

  “Will you?” She grinned, leaning forward and rubbing her chin. Her legs crossed and the chamber let out a collective gasp of enlightenment. Hershiser looked up, nodding. She spoke. “Bring me the impostor’s head. Prove your allegiance and I will let you be one of us.”

  Hershiser nodded, limping over to the half-naked gladiator and taking a sword. He slowly meandered over toward Kirk who was awakening from the transformation back to his normal self. Kirk slowly rose and drove his elbow into Hershiser’s arm, attempting to stop him from swinging the sword. The two men locked up, but Hershiser quickly gained the upper hand. His arm wrapped around Kirk’s neck, squeezing. He flung Kirk to the ground and knelt over him, dealing fist after to fist into the face.

  Maya laughed and Hershiser looked up, allowing Kirk to roll backwards and drive a heel into Hershiser’s sternum. Kirk lunged for the sword, but Hershiser kicked it out of the way. He grabbed Kirk by the ankle and twisted it quickly with a snap.

  Kirk screamed, raking his fingernails across the ground. Several broke off. Hershiser dealt three quick blows to the kidney. He slammed Kirk into the base of one of the large columns that climbed through each floor of the massive chamber. He yanked Kirk by the hair and repeatedly slammed his head into the large stone beam. Once his enemy passed out, Hershiser walked over to the sword and picked it up. He plodded back toward Kirk and slammed the blade into his neck, face, chest, and finally, jaw as his errant swipes failed to sever the head.

  Building up the anger to try one last time, his sixth swipe went clean through Kirk’s jaw, severing the head and lodging the blade into the stone column. Hershiser grabbed the head by the hair and lifted it, much to the applause and delight of those who looked on.

  “Are you ready to share your secrets?” Maya asked, leaning forward.

  Hershiser nodded, unable to deny her.

  * * *

  While Jackson quickly repaired the downed drones, Jarrod and Lian meandered around the forest. Mist drizzled up the gentle hill, rising out of the lake behind them, but seemed to carry something with it. Little shapes of what Jarrod thought to be hands and faces sometimes pushed the edges of the mist like babies inside their mother’s womb.

  “Your eyes don’t betray you,” Oreios said, walking alongside the pair. Jarrod looked at him, tilting his head before nodding. “They’re being summoned by Charon. He is taking them to their resting place.”

  “I don’t see what you guys are talking about.” Lian scanned the area, shrugging her shoulders. Unable to read Oreios’ mind since he had no soul, she was reduced to asking. “What is it?”

  “You don’t have the angelic sight, so it would be difficult to explain,” Oreios replied, watching the people as some of them turned their focus toward the group. He wrapped his arms around Jarrod and Lian, moving them back to the shoreline of the lake and out of the mist. “We must move along before we’re noticed.”

  “What do you mean angelic sight?” she persisted.

  “I don’t even know why he has it.” Oreios pointed his thumb at Jarrod. “I’ve never seen a remake gifted with the abilities of those they mimic.”

  “I’m the same as I ever was.” Jarrod grabbed Oreios by the arm and twisted, bringing him to his knees. “I’m no fake.”

  “And that part doesn’t scare you at all?” Oreios smiled, reshaping his dirt arm into a clamp that in turn squeezed tightly on Jarrod’s arm. He stood and pulled Jarrod close. “You don’t know what it is you’re walking into.”

  “Then why don’t you tell us?” Jarrod wrapped his free hand around Oreios’ throat and squeezed. The two pulled in close to one another until Lian stuck her hand between their faces.

  “Stop it,” Lian said forcefully through her tight jaw. She stomped her foot and threw her hands down to her side. “I don’t want to die because you two are squabbling. Where are we, Oreios?”

  “We’re at the merging of the rivers,” he said, releasing Jarrod’s arm and stepping back. He held his hands in the air and nodded in apology. “The fortress built to protect those who fell at the last great battle. Like so many other things, it was hidden behind another plane of existence. Away from... you.”

  “Us?” Jarrod asked.

  “Humans.” Oreios sat and folded his legs, resting his arms on his lap. “For so long, my creator ruled over his kingdom until your God came and forced him out. After the great battle, a Halfling child, one of the first born immortal descendants birthed by one of my Lord’s soldiers, was tasked with setting up a new home. Given the weapon of my creator and his mother’s armor, the young man set off to establish a new kingdom. After journeying to Tartarus to capture Charon, he returned to Earth and brought his last remaining followers here... away from Michael’s sword. My kind was left behind to shield the mountain passes that lead to this entrance. That’s how I ran afoul of Jackson.”

  “I wouldn’t believe a thing he says.” Jackson walked up to the group, arming his weapon. “Once you get sucked into his story, he drives the knife into you.”

  “You make it sound like we never had fun.” Oreios flashed a pathetic puppy-dog frown. Jackson yanked him to his feet. Facetiously miffed, Oreios asked, “Is that any way to treat an old friend?”

  “We were never friends.” Jackson’s armor reformed over his face and his eyes beamed with purple light. “Jarrod, the drones have been repaired and are programmed to respond to our tablets. Check the HUD transmitted by your wrist pad and double check the connection.”

  “I’ve got it.” Jarrod nodded.

  “Good. If things get out of hand, we’ll need those drones as backup.” Jackson started up the hill and into the mist. “I’m receiving a signal this way.”

  The group walked for a couple of minutes before coming upon an area with destroyed trees, craters in the ground, and dried blood splattered everywhere. The area of the small battle zone was about the size of a football field. The mist parted along the battle zone, forming a circle around the four.

  “These are our weapons,” Lian said, picking up some torn cloth and a few sidearms. Her eyes fixed on Lewis’s dismembered body. She turned her head and buried it into Jarrod’s chest. He wrapped his arm around her, rubbing her head. “Who would do this?”

  “They call her the Blood Queen.” Oreios didn’t smile as he kept a solemn look. He knelt, running his fingers through several divots in the ground. The history of each grain of dirt was relayed into his mind. “But I wouldn’t call her that. She seems tempting enough, but behind her gorgeous smile, huge rack, and alluring eyes, there is a bitch with daddy issues and a temper you don’t want to screw with... though you’ll think about screwing pretty much nonstop.”

  “I thought you said this area was ruled by an immortal man?” Jarrod asked, looking around the chaos for signs of his friends. There was none, which was a temporary good sign.

  “I told you he’d just lie to you,” Jackson said, swirling his finger in the air. “Let’s head out.”

  “Do you know what happens to a human soul when it dies, Jackson?” Oreios stood. For the first time he wore a genuine half smile, trapping Jackson’s attention. “When you die, you get to go somewhere. Be it hell or heaven,
you have a contract with your God and He delivers on His end. Do you know what happens when I die?”

  Jackson shook his head.

  “Nothing.” Oreios took a deep breath, standing very still. “I have every reason to make it out of here alive. There is no contract awaiting the soulless upon death. And the only way I can get out of here is if you two remakes help me.”

  The mist dissipated and large bulbous footsteps could be heard shaking the trees in the distance. Oreios formed his dirt hand into a jagged blade and stood ready. Jarrod and Jackson armed their rifles and took aim. Lian stepped forward and put her fingers to her temple. When two Cyclopes taking a stroll through the forest happened upon the group, they froze.

  “Stop.” Lian put her hand to the barrel of Jarrod’s gun and pushed it down. She looked at him. “We can waste our time fighting everything we come into contact with or we can keep our element of surprise.”

  “Oh, I like this girl.” Oreios silently applauded her quick thinking and bravado.

  “I’ve got them under control,” she said, nodding at Jackson. “These nitwits are too easy. I could probably do ten more.”

  As she finished speaking, three other Cyclopes walked up to them, each carrying large bags of food. She put her other hand up to her temple and took them under her control as well.

  “Why are they all casually walking up on us?” Jackson asked.

  “They’re coming to a picnic. And there’s still more to come,” she said with trembling lips and sweat dripping down the side of her face.

  “Can you wipe their memories and then get out of here?” Jackson pointed his rifle in several directions, ready to open fire on the next set of giant footsteps that came their way.

  “No. There’s too many of them.” She grimaced, stumbling around and trying to focus. “I’d have to wipe memories one by one, but then that’d mean releasing the other four.”

  “Take them with us.” Jarrod strapped his rifle to his back and then picked Lian up, cradling her in his arms. He turned to Oreios. “Lead us away from here, fast.”

  Oreios sprinted up the hill with Jackson following quickly behind. Jarrod ran with Lian in his grasp as she instructed the Cyclopes to follow. Oreios stopped when he got to the slow moving river. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, looking over the great fortress built into the mountain, gazing with the eyes of a child.

  “How do we get across?” Jackson asked, shoving Oreios in the back. Oreios shrugged, unsure. Jackson prodded further. “How do you know that’s where they are?”

  “I’ve been here once long ago,” Oreios replied.

  “Let’s ask these idiots how they got here.” Jarrod knelt and put Lian on the ground, pointing at the Cyclopes.

  “I can’t get a read on them... too many,” Lian grunted.

  “Then let’s trim the fat, shall we?” Oreios spread his arms out, palms down, and commanded the ground to obey him. Three large rock giants formed, sucking in all sorts of loose dirt and debris. They towered over the Cyclopes and snapped their necks. “There. One left. That should be easy enough.”

  “It’s too bad you attracted the wrong kind of attention.” Jarrod looked up to the top of the mountain ridge, watching as a swirling black cloud bellowed out of the fortress. As the swarm got closer, the sound of frantic spurts of wind crescendoed off the waterfront. The winged creatures came into focus. Jarrod took aim and opened fire, eradicating everyone he shot into a plume of ash. “We’re about to be open for business.”

  “It’s the Crill,” Oreios whispered.

  “There is a small tunnel under the river about two miles upstream.” Lian gazed into the giant’s eye while he sat, drooling. She stood him up, ordered him to break a tree apart and use it as a club. When the winged creatures were close enough, the Cyclops swatted them out of the sky.

  “Some way of trimming the fat there, asshole.” Jarrod yelled at Oreios. He back-flipped, kicking one of the bat-like Crill in the head. As he landed on his feet, he shot the creature in the face with his plasma rifle. “Activate the drones.”

  Jackson typed a sequence of numbers on his wrist pad. The drones, buried under the brush along the shore of the lake, activated and shot straight into the air. Honing in on Jackson’s beacon, they ascended above the tree line and jetted toward their position. Diving in from high above the swarm of winged demons, the drones unleashed a flurry of plasma blasts, clearing a space for the four below to run.

  The ground quaked and the trees swayed back and forth as several Cyclopes emerged from the thick of trees. The first giant lunged at Jarrod. He jumped, dodging the grab, and ran up the Cyclops’ arm. Reaching the giant’s head, a blade shot out from over his wrist and he drove it in the Cyclops’ eye.

  He spun onto the back of the giant’s shoulders and wrapped an arm around his neck, riding him. He drew his plasma pistol and blasted the other Cyclopes. In the confusion, the nitwit giants slapped their blind friend. Jarrod kicked off the behemoth’s spine and flipped backwards to the ground.

  Two rock beasts formed, each grabbing an arm of a Cyclops. In unison, they pulled as hard as they could and ripped the arms from the giant’s torso. Oreios lifted the dirt beneath his feet and ran along the river bank. The soil rose up to meet him as he created a large wall along the side of the river.

  Several of the Crill swarmed in around him, swiping and tearing away his flesh, exposing the dust and pebble makeup beneath. He severed the head of one beast and spun to his left to stab another through the face. He jumped from his artificial wall, and the dirt followed him, creating a small cave for the group to hide in.

  “We’ve got to make it to the tunnel,” Jarrod gasped, pulling his wrist blades out of a humanoid Crill. The creature was just two-thirds the size of a normal man, with the features of a bat. He glanced over to Lian. Her Cyclops was putting the final touches on pulling its own Crill’s legs apart. He smiled at her. “Impressive.”

  The drones eliminated a few more bat-demons and drove the rest away. The scene grew eerily quiet. They all exchanged quick looks. Oreios, tattered and breathing heavily, walked over to Lian’s Cyclops and decapitated it. He turned, tapping on his collar.

  “You three run and hide in the woods. I’ll draw them away,” he said, walking over to Jackson. They stood toe-to-toe. “I won’t be able to help much if this thing removes my head.”

  “I’m not taking it off...”

  “Damn it.” Oreios punched his makeshift wall, knocking a sizeable chunk out of it. “The only way we get back is if we work together and you see once and for all that your friends are dead.”

  “If we remove the collar, what’s to stop you from running?” Jarrod stepped forward, pulling on Oreios’ arm. “What’s to stop you from selling us out?”

  “I’m history if the Blood Queen catches me,” Oreios replied, his eyes cast down. “I’m a failure in her eyes. The only way I live is to trust you guys, and that trust would go a long way if you removed this collar.”

  “I’m not going to remove it,” Jackson repeated, causing Oreios to roll his eyes. “But I will go with you.”

  A thunderous rattle joined the wind. Jarrod peered through the hole Oreios created. An even bigger swarm of Crill headed their direction. He turned and grabbed Lian’s hand. He nodded at Jackson and took off into the woods.

  “If you double-cross me…” Jackson grunted.

  “Yeah, I know.” Oreios nodded. “You’ll be sure to kill me before they kill you.”

  * * *

  “Princess Maya.” The half-naked gladiator walked into her private chamber. He stood at attention, staring straight at the wall while she floated about in her enormous bath. An axe three times the size of his torso was strapped to his back. She waved at him and he continued. “They’ve come for the prisoners, just as the informant said they would.”

  “Men never lie when they are enamored,” she laughed, stroking her leg as she raised it out of the steaming water. She focused on her wiggling toes and then looked over to him.
A perplexed look graced his face. “Argus, something troubles you. Are you not at ease with our plan?”

  “I have faith, Princess,” he replied, swallowing as he kept his focus straight forward. She stepped out of the bath, glistening in the candlelight, and walked slowly over to her robe. Her steps were well practiced, done in perfection to show off her sleek and tight naked curves. “His information wasn’t fully correct.”

  “Impossible. They do not lie when they hear my song.” Maya whipped the robe around her and it stuck to her wet body. She walked closer to Argus, put her finger to his chest, and drew circles with her nails. “He said they would come, and they did...”

  “But he said only one of the remakes remained. There is another...”

  “So we will take him too until we have devoured enough of them to rebuild our Lord’s star.” She rolled her eyes, her tone growing impatient. “I see no problem in dealing with one more.”

  “This one is different,” Argus stuttered, turning to look at her. She spun around and their eyes connected. “He isn’t like the other ones. From what I’ve heard, his colors aren’t the same as our Lord’s. Is it possible they’ve made an alliance with one of the other Corners?”

  “No. We would know if they broke their silence.” She shook her head, her eyes gazing into oblivion as she tried to think. She walked over to a locked chest and opened it. Inside was a complete starstone small enough to fit in her palm. She gripped it tightly and closed her eyes. A pink light flashed in the center of the room, and from it walked the frail looking man from the boat. Maya looked over her shoulder. “Charon.”

  “Yes, my Princess.” He bowed his head, standing with his hands behind his back. “You wish to speak with me?”

  “Argus, tell him what you’ve told me,” she ordered, walking over to Charon. “Describe his appearance.”

  “It was another remake, I think. The Crill said he was adorned in black and blue. What can you tell us of him?”

  “It is before my time.” Charon stood with his head still down. “But in the early days before the great battle that saw your father lead us here...”