Armageddon Darkness

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Armageddon Darkness Page 7

by David Pollitt


  Chapter 5

  Beast Feud

  Count Takash’s wife, Sister Jessica, was his most precious confidant and motivator. He relied exclusively on her political input. If it hadn't been for her political influence, he would be at one of his palaces enjoying the quiet life while delegating decisions to his own political puppets.

  They still called his wife Sister Jessica because she had been a nun in a convent when he first met her. He saw her for the first time when she was returning to the convent carrying a basket of fresh picked blueberries. He pulled up to her in his limousine, rolled down his window, and asked, "I bet you wish there were such things as flying nuns, right? Want a ride?"

  When she looked at him, it was as if she could see directly into his soul. He saw her deep, black eyes peering from her headpiece and felt swept away in her gaze. She was intoxicating to him and didn't answer his question but ran away from the road while cutting across a wide field towards the convent. She seemed to be deliberately taunting and insulting him. She knew exactly who he was. Her pulling away from him drove him crazy. It seemed to fuel an obsession within him, an obsession to have her, to own her just like he did everything else. He chased her to the convent and finally caught up with her just as she was entering.

  "Wait, I'm Count Takash! I want to talk with you! Wait!" he shouted.

  "I know who you are. You're a man who's wasting away in a palace when you could be the king of the world. I have no use for could-be kings," she answered as she turned her back on him and slammed the door in his face.

  He stood—stunned by the insult, then started thinking about what she said, "How could I be the king of the world?"

  He stood outside the convent walls yelling for over two hours, "I could be king! I really could be! Is that what you want to hear? Tell me, is that what you want to hear? Tell me, what you want me to do? I could be king! For you, I could be!"

  Sister Jessica finally looked out of the second story window and answered, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Count. I've never known of a king with two queens, have you?" She pulled the pins from her headpiece and swung her dark hair in a sensuous move. He watched it fall past her shoulders. She made sure he saw her plainly. Her looks struck him so hard that he gasped; she took his breath away. She was far more beautiful than he ever imagined. Instantly, his imagination seemed to swirl with dark, exotic thoughts of her that were graphically vivid, overwhelming, and exhilarating.

  Suddenly, he made a decision, "One queen. Only one!" he shouted, turned, and left.

  Weeks later, the announcement of the Count's wife drowning in their swimming pool hit all the tabloids. Days after that, he stood again in front of the same convent while calling to the same second story window as before.

  When Sister Jessica appeared, he shouted, "Only one queen!"

  She turned away and slammed the window shut. He was in shock, thinking about how stupid he had been, but still intoxicated at having her for his own. He started sending hundreds of gifts and millions of dollars to the convent. They were mostly bribes to give him an excuse to see her, but they wouldn't let him. In a desperate and drastic move, he had her kidnapped from the convent and taken to one of his palaces. The convent thought she left on her own until they read a newspaper confession from her years later. She was noted as saying that she was held against her will for three months. When she wouldn't respond to his friendship and affectionate advances, he told her that she could leave. She refused and said she would stay. Her condition—marriage and final say over every political decision of his reign.

  Once the Count was heard to say, "She was like a drug. Once I met her, I couldn't get her out of my mind. It felt like she was in my blood. It was something beyond me. Her resistance to me made her even more desirable. I would've done anything to have her."

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  The American Beast

  President Terrone faced similar decisions. His wife was Cassidy Raven. He always kidded her about her last name, but she wouldn't give it up. No amount of kidding made her take Terrone's.

  She would only say, "I honor my father. He was a great and powerful man."

  Terrone still talked to his friends about the first time they met. He was a professional boxer when he met her. He was finishing a major fight that would make him a main contender for the World Heavy Weight Championship. He finished a grueling eight rounds without either one getting an obvious edge. When the fight was over, Terrone won by a slight margin that was more bribe motivated than justice. He just had more money behind him than the other man.

  As he made his way back to his locker room, Cassidy stood outside his door waiting for him. Her tall beauty struck him, and he puffed himself up to give this pretty girl an autograph.

  "You want my autograph, right?" he remarked while sizing her up with exaggerated and obvious head-to-toe looks.

  She frowned and walked up close to him saying, "You call that a fight? If you want to really win, team up with me. I'll take you to the top. You're too good to stay around using your fists. You could be the king of the world and just don't know it. I can take you there, all the way to the top."

  Terrone felt the sting of her speech, but he remembered only her first words and protested, "That was a great fight! I won, didn't I? He couldn't knock me out if he tried."

  Cassidy spit on the floor by his feet, "Is it a knockout you want? Here, try this!" she shouted and took a swing at him that hit him square in the jaw with an uppercut. He went down like a big tree and slammed dramatically into the concrete—out cold. He was out for 15 minutes. They carried him in, hoping no one saw—someone did.

  An amateur photographer took a snapshot of her hitting him. It ended up on the tabloids by the next morning's run. The picture captured it perfectly. In fact, there were constant discussions about Terrone's feet being lifted off the ground when she hit him. Everyone called it trick photography but knew different. They couldn't imagine how a 6' girl weighing only 140 pounds could hit a 256-pound professional boxer up off the ground that included knocking him out. There were some discussions of signing her.

  As Terrone left that night, she was waiting for him. He asked his limo driver to go on without him. He walked quietly beside her as they made their way through the streets of Tucson.

  His first question was, "Why did you do that, girl?"

  "To get your attention. It worked, didn't it?" she replied as she took his arm as they walked, then smiled at him as if she had known him all his life.

  "My attention? Couldn't you have just sent me a postcard? I've never been hit that hard in my life. Who are you? Superwoman?" he laughed, and she joined him.

  "My father would probably say Superwoman was a wimp compared to me. You know how fathers are. So, are you ready to become the President of the United States, yet?" she asked as she turned and faced him after only walking five blocks.

  "You're serious, aren't you?" he asked while staring at her in confusion, but believing he could for some reason.

  "Me, put up these fists to wear a tie?"

  "If you say 'no,' I'll show up at every fight and do the same thing—knock you out cold. You won't be able to book a fight after the publicity I'll give you," she declared while staring directly into his eyes with her hands placed defiantly on her small hips.

  "That sounds like blackmail. I bet you'd do it too. All this? Why? Just to see a big brawler like me beat up the D.C. boys for once or is there another reason?"

  "Sure there is. I've always wanted to sleep in the Lincoln room. How's that for a motive?" she answered flatly, and he knew she was telling the truth.

  "The President's wife?" he exclaimed, surprised at her boldness, but never doubting a word she said.

  "You're really reaching for the stars," he replied, still shocked at her brashness.

  "Not the stars, just you right now. The stars will come later," she answered.

  They walked for another hour and just talked now that her business was discus
sed and the cards were all out on the table. They ended up in front of her hotel, but she shook his hand and walked away from him without another word.

  As he followed her to the elevator, he yelled before the doors shut, "Can I see you again?" in a pathetic, grown-man whine.

  He heard, "You can see me all you want if you ask the right question."

  He knew what that question was. He stayed in the hotel lobby with fans continuing to approach him wanting autographs, but he kept waving them away. He was considering, and he was still there the next morning when she came down for breakfast.

  He ran to her and asked, "If I ask you this question, how do I know I'll get the right answer?"

  "You're asking me that after I told you I will sleep in the White House, and you will be the President? Think again. Oh, forget it. Yes, I will marry you, Mr. President—if you'll ask me?"

  "You will? You're crazy. You know that, don't you? But, I'm not stupid. I've never had a steady girl since high school. I've never dreamed about a girl as pretty as you. I'd be an idiot for missing a chance like this. You buy the ties, and I'll wear them, Mrs. President."

  It was all a blur to Terrone now, but he had to admit a wonderful blur. He was shocked at how well she put him in the right places at the right times. He was stunned by the amount of money she raised from the white supremists and other fringe groups scattered over the Western U.S. She ran his campaigns and kept him running hard until someone noticed. He finally ran for the Arizona governor's slot and won. He stayed for two terms until he got a call from a new-to-be President who wanted to tap into Terrone's renegade vote; they won with a landslide.

  Cassidy never did get to sleep in the White House, not with Terrone. Especially, since the President was killed when Washington D.C. was nuked years before. Terrone and Cassidy were on a vacation in the Bahamas when it happened. They rushed back to set up shop in Tucson. It had been the capitol ever since.

  Her aggressive zeal for his career caused rumors to fly. He had heard through the grapevine that she was unfaithful to him on more than one occasion. He heard that it was only with the most important contacts, and somehow, even if he thought it was true, which he didn't; she seemed to be doing it for him. After all, he had become the most successful up-and-coming candidate in this century.

  Recently, Cassidy insisted on moving the government to West Virginia. Arizona was just a little too far from the majority of power. At least, they would be closer to the seat the authority, what was left of it. It was from a Kinko's in Wheeling that he made his part of the conference call to the Vatican today, not having moved completely into the new facilities yet.

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  The Dark Feud

  Angelica looked over at the Count sitting with his Sister Jessica. For a moment, Sister Jessica and Angelica's eyes met. There was an unheard hiss. It was something on the order of two cobras preparing to fight. Angelica turned away when a government courier brought in a box of reports. Immediately, without looking at them, Angelica pulled two out and slid one across the table towards Sister Jessica and left the rest in the box. Angelica instinctively opened it up at the next to last page. With a highlighter, she marked a section in bright yellow. She placed it in front of Andre, then pointed to the highlights and thumped her finger on them for emphasis. She touched his shoulder lovingly and turned to see Sister Jessica touching the Count's shoulder while placing her copy of the report in front of him. Once again, Angelica and Sister Jessica's eyes locked. This time Sister Jessica raised her nose in an arrogant flip, then turned her gaze away from Angelica's while thumping her duplicate highlight.

  The information in front of Andre and the Count read, "Report on Economic Effect of Missing." It was a detailed projection on the results of so many missing people, categorized by region and country. The crisis was compounded where citizens were dead from earthquakes and nuclear accidents. The summarizing bullets of the report in large letters were:

  Immediate World Census

  Immediate Electronic Funds Capture of All Economic Revenue

  Need of a Simple, Single Method of Census and Revenue Capture

  Angelica wrote a note above the final suggestions, "Don't let them do it to us again," and placed her finger on it while looking directly into Andre's eyes, until she was sure he had read it. He did a small "yes" nod, and she lifted her hand from his shoulder. She went about making sure that more copies of the report got to each EU member.

  Sister Jessica grabbed the report from the Count while still touching him. She looked up and stared inquisitively at Angelica. As Angelica gave each member their reports, she leaned seductively against them. It was a tease, and she enjoyed their thankful I-needed-that smiles. When their eyes met again, Angelica stopped, frozen in her tracks. She nodded to Sister Jessica, and she nodded back.

  Immediately, Sister Jessica wrote above the suggestions, "Don't let them do this to us again." She pointed the note out to the Count while she tenderly ran her fingers up the back of his head while rubbing his neck as he read it.

  Terrone was on the video feed preparing to go live when the e-mail transmission triggered "You've-got-mail" message on Cassidy's nearby laptop. She reached over and pulled the report from a nearby printer. She stared into the video screen and saw Angelica staring over the shoulder of Andre. She picked up the report, highlighted the suggestions on the next to last page, and wrote above them, "Don't let them do it to us again."

  There was something about what she did that interested her. It seemed that she could hear a voice speaking to her—a familiar one—she liked hearing it. Angelica nodded and sat down as she snuggled close to Andre. At that moment, Sister Jessica got up and eased herself from the room just before the meeting started. Angelica followed and slipped through the slowly closing door. As she placed a hand on Sister Jessica's shoulder from behind, Sister Jessica turned and grabbed her hand and threw Angelica against a hall wall. She dived on her, then pulled at her hair and repeatedly punched at her face. Angelica dodged most of the blows but finally got an arm free and clawed at Jessica's face, tearing bloody marks into her exposed cheek. Blood covered Jessica's face and neck. They never made a sound except when they fell against some hall chairs and walls. They weren't going to stop until the door opened as the exiting German ambassador almost fell over them. They immediately started crawling around the floor.

  Sister Jessica wiped hurriedly at her face with her sleeve while saying, "I know that contact is around here somewhere." Fortunately, her dark suit absorbed the blood without notice.

  Angelica answered, "I know, I thought I saw it land right where you are!"

  The ambassador looked at them queerly since they both looked a little disheveled. Jessica gave him a flirting glance; but now, her face was smooth without a mark. They both got up to let the ambassador by.

  "You won't win, Sister Jessica," she whispered once he was out of sight. "Andre will win. I've worked too hard to let you get an edge. I'll kill the Count myself if I have too. I've already murdered five up-and-coming French politicians to get Andre where he is. One more bureaucrat won't make a difference."

  "Except this bureaucrat is my bureaucrat!" she fired back, then pushed Angelica away from her and briskly straightened her clothes. "You'll have to kill me first to get to him. He's never alone; I'm always with him."

  "I've known you for over 5,000 years. You'll slip up. The minute you do, he's history!" Angelica shook her finger at her threateningly.

  "Yes, and I've been hearing that kind of backtalk from you about every mission we've been on since we were created. Apollyon chose us to make sure the right man is picked. Have you forgotten about Cassidy? She's not out of the race, yet."

  "The Anti-Christ can't be an American. She's a Nephilim. She's only half dark angel. She won't be able to pull it off. She doesn't even know about us, and she's just running on instincts."

  "She may be a Nephilim, but she's Dar-Raven's Nephilim. And, it's Dar-Raven's instincts of darkness she
's running on. She'll end up doing the right thing for Apollyon without knowing why. In her genes, she has all the darkness of the great Dar-Raven flowing. Think about it. She has control over the President of the United States. America is still the greatest power left. Don't underestimate her."

  "One thing at a time. Humans are easy. I'll kill your Count first, and then I'll kill her. Nephilims can die, and so can we, given the right situation, remember? Without her, their President would crumble," whispered and hissed Angelica, but noticed that Sister Jessica ignored her angelic death threat.

  "That's a mistake," she thought to herself as they were interrupted by Andre.

  He had stuck his head around the door and remarked, "Come on, gals. Stop the hen party and get in here for the conference."

  As they walked in together, they held each other's hands, merely faking friendship, and then they tried squeezing the blood from each other’s fingers till it came oozing from their cuticles. Finally, they went to sit beside their husbands.

  Angelica sucked on her fingertips and gave Sister Jessica a snarl while watching Angelica heal and wipe away the drops of blood formed around her nails with a hanky. No one else noticed.

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  Don't Let Them Do It To Us Again

  "As the President of the EU, I'd like to open this conference meeting by giving my extreme condolences to everyone who has lost loved ones. I would like a moment of silence to honor the dead. They all stared or bowed silently for over five minutes.

  Andre continued, "I have a report, which you have seen, showing the results of several major problems. The first are all the missing people. We all realize, for whatever reason, that many of the so-called fanatics of some Christian cults have disappeared. We have no idea how they did it. We believe there was a conspiracy to deliberately harm those countries in which they lived. Their disappearances have left some industries totally inoperable. President Terrone, I understand the United States has been especially hard hit by the missing fanatics. Is that right?"

  Terrone's voice shook with emotion as he answered, "That's right, I have no way of knowing exactly how much economic chaos it will cause. Most of the harm is from our southern states and those states included in what we call the Bible Belt. I haven't received a complete report yet."

  Cassidy placed her hand on his arm and patted it gently. She interrupted, "President Montplier, do you have any suggestions on how we can prevent this from happening again? It's obvious that it was a planned catastrophe by these groups."

  The Count stood up out of turn, "Yes, I agree with the American First Lady. We can't allow them to do this to us again!" Jessica pulled him to his seat by his coat tails while trying to hush him up, but happy that his response was so on target for their dark agenda.

  "Yes, Mrs. Raven," replied Montplier, "I was about to get to that. We feel that the most important thing we can do is get an accurate census as soon as possible. We want this census to have another element. We want a way of handling all payroll and revenue funds electronically through our centralized accounting offices controlled by the EU's Central Bank. This would give us a system to crosscheck every participant that tells us whether they are a part of another like-kind fringe group as those missing fanatics—a group that could harm us again. If we find an employer is too heavily leveraged with these fanatics, we can curb them with mandatory employment ratios. We also want to find a way to allow citizens to spend funds allocated to them from our central distribution program—but under our watchful eye. If we can control the spending, we can control the fanatics. It won't happen again."

  "I'd like to suggest for purposes of a consolidated front that the United States join the EU by considering to use our very vast and sophisticated banking system. After all, your country is suffering the most from this missing problem."

  Cassidy nodded "yes" to Terrone. "Yes, I believe we can work this out. It would be nice not having to handle the money problem too. But, you said your banking system. You didn't mention the electronic transactions. Are you implying that the transaction side of this isn't quite finished, yet?"

  "You are very astute, President Terrone. We were getting to that. We felt for handling your funds that we could somehow rely on your vast reserve of 'superior geeks' to provide the electronic-transaction solution for us. Does that sound like a fair deal, Mr. President? After all, you have NACHA on your side. They're pros at handling electronic-fund transfers. I'm sure they have a vast armada of resources that can act quickly to solve our problem."

  Andre sat more upright than before, proud of the progress, and felt it was mostly his doing. He basked in the praising looks from his own members. Angelica and Sister Jessica looked at each other and smiled slightly, which turned to an unnoticed snarl quickly thereafter.

  "What do you want to call this new system?" asked Terrone.

  "My goodness, President Terrone, you Americans are so concerned about such silly things. We'll worry about the small stuff later."

  President Terrone laughed saying, "Just don't call it the 666 program, will you? Man, you'd get a rise out of those so-called fanatics for that one."

  "Well, I guess, since they're all gone, it won't be an issue anymore, will it? Anyway, it was the Euro Dollar's grand achievement not long ago. It's just a number, President Terrone, just a number."

  Cassidy did the throat-cut movement to shut him up, and Terrone signed off politely, "Sure, I'll have this all worked out in less than a week. Be back at you. Good day, folks."

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