The Day of Legion

by Craig Taylor

  Patricia had climbed onto the bed in the back during the night. For almost two hours she tossed and turned before finally falling asleep. She dreamed, frowning and muttering to herself, but at least she stayed asleep. David knew she would need her strength much more than he would.

  At about nine-thirty, Patricia woke up and made coffee, while David continued driving. When it was ready, she poured two travel mugs full and climbed into the front seat. She was about to suggest finding a roadside restaurant so they could eat, then saw a dark figure standing in the middle of the road. It was a man—with his stomach ripped open.

  “David, look out for the ....”

  David slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The RV skidded on the road and hit the man. As the body slammed against the windshield, Patricia saw that it was Matthew. His head hit the glass and exploded, releasing Legion from him.

  They both sensed the power of Legion instantly. Their malevolence replaced the air around them. They knew that it was now powerful enough to survive outside Matthew’s body; they had consumed all his energy, both dark and light. He was of no further use to them.

  Whatever had been promised him was a lie. He was now sacrificed like all the others. His battered body lay on the road, twisted and torn, his soul owned by the darkness.

  The front wheels of the RV hit the ditch on the edge of the road, causing it to flip onto its side. The contents of the cupboards in the back were flung out and shattered.

  Patricia, not wearing her seatbelt, was thrown through the windshield and lost consciousness on impact. The black souls of Legion swarmed her body as it flew through the air, guiding it viciously to a large tree along the road. Her neck and back snapped; she died instantly.

  Legion felt a surge of strength as the power shifted in their favor with her death. They could feel the light shiver around them. It aroused them, but they knew they had no time to spare.

  They gathered around Patricia’s lifeless body. They watched the glow of her soul as it began to emerge. They grabbed it, hungry and impatient. They spoke together as one.

  “We must wait,” they hissed. “Be patient, brothers and sisters. She still has what we want. Don’t hurt it.”

  The demons formed a black group around her, sealing her body off to prevent anything getting in or her soul escaping out. Slowly, her soul rose above her twisted body. As it ascended, the eyes of the demons widened and their rotten hearts beat faster, in unison. Smoke rose as their excitement grew.

  Patricia’s soul hovered above her body, unable to move through the black canopy. She could see she was surrounded by Legion, but was not afraid. She could see what was happening, and now knew why. She understood.

  This was why they came. This was thousands of years in the making. Thousands of twists of fate molded and controlled by the darkness led to this moment. Lives taken, spared, ruined and sacrificed. Tricks planned meticulously by the darkness and executed carefully so as not to alert the light. Now there were just a few more steps to take.

  She saw women and children murdered, men slaughtered in all kinds of ways, meetings orchestrated, all for one purpose; to get her here, now, with the soul of the unborn child in her womb, now held in her arms.

  She saw all of the games the darkness played up to her own involvement. They had watched her since she was born. She saw the decisions manipulated by others, leading to her job at the hospital.

  She saw the darkness manipulate Jason’s mother and father, their drunken night of sex that led to his conception. She saw the real Jason’s death at his birth and watched the demon take his body. She saw his father’s imprisonment at the hands of a judge controlled by the darkness, saw his eventual murder by a man as black as Legion themselves. She saw his mother’s death; all the interference in so many lives; hundreds and thousands of twists and turns, all controlled by Legion.

  She saw David’s appearance in her life, their leading the darkness to Albert and, eventually, her joining with David that created this child whose spirit she now held. All of the killing, all of the evil committed, played out over hundreds of years subtly to avoid the suspicion of the light, led to this one moment in time, and this child.

  All they wanted was the child. A child so powerful, being the son of a powerful keeper of light and a gifted woman, it would tip the scales to whoever controlled it.

  She could see their plans for the baby, to lead it down the path of evil. She could also see their dilemma–the child was still too young to be away from its mother, but they had to get it before it became fully a child of the light.

  Legion knew that the child needed the life force of the mother’s soul to survive. They would keep her until she was no longer useful, until the child could be ripped from her arms.

  Patricia could see the last part of their plan, and knew that only David could help. She could sense his pain, but knew he was alive, trapped in the wreckage. He had to get back to the sanctuary and stop their final act, which would destroy the light forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  David woke up in a hospital bed. His eyes wouldn’t focus, but he could see two fuzzy figures standing next to him. He knew from their voices that one was a man, the other a woman.

  His sight cleared. It was a policeman talking to a nurse. The policeman asked about his recovery, when he would be able to speak to him. The nurse was unable to provide an answer.

  Neither had noticed that he was awake, so he closed his eyes and waited for them to leave. Once he was alone and the door closed, he sat up. Pain seared through every fiber of his body, but as far as he could tell he had no broken bones and no major injuries.

  He had no tubes in his arms, wasn’t attached to any machines. Perhaps that meant he was in a low-priority recovery ward.

  “Thank God for seatbelts!” he whispered, slowly turning to get up out of bed.

  Once on his feet and steady he let go of the bed, walked to the window and closed the blinds. He walked carefully over to the closet in the corner, where he found his clothes and belongings.

  When he slipped off his gown, he saw massive bruising on his chest and stomach. A glance in the mirror revealed his head was bandaged; he must have hit something solid and cut it open.

  He dressed quickly and left the room. The nurse’s station was empty and there was a commotion in a room down a few doors from David’s. He saw several nurses and doctors attempting to revive an old man.

  Alarms and lights from various machines were evident. Everyone aided as the doctor performed chest compressions and gave orders for different drugs to be administered.

  No one noticed as David walked past and headed to the elevator. He nearly walked into another patient. As he was about to apologize, he realized this man was the patient lying on the bed in the room he had passed.

  He’d been able to see the deceased since childhood, but this was the first time he had seen one this soon after leaving their body. They usually were met and guided to the afterlife by family members or friends already passed, or by demons who dragged them, kicking and screaming.

  The old man smiled. “It’s up to you, David,” he said. “Go to the sanctuary and do what you have to.”

  “What is it I have to do?” he asked, but the old man walked away and faded from sight as he did.

  David jumped as the elevator signaled its arrival to his floor with a ding. He stepped in and pressed the button for the ground floor.

  A feeling of dread came over him. He realized that he was now the one to stop Legion—and he had no idea how. He was on his own and afraid. He knew if he failed, he would feel responsible for the darkness’ victory.

  He stole a car at a service station. The driver left the keys in the ignition while inside settling his bill. As he drove toward the sanctuary, he tried to remember his father’s teachings and the time he spent with Elizabeth. There was something
nagging at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t reach it.

  He was supposed to know or to remember something which was a key to it all. It nearly came to him, but then retreated again. Before it went away, he sensed there was an object at the sanctuary he needed. He had no idea what it was, however. There were so many objects stored there, so many shelves and cupboards, so many historical items, he had no idea where to start.

  He pulled into the sanctuary a day later. He drove most of the night, only stopping for a brief nap. It was about ten in the morning and the sun had just moved to the front of the cabin.

  Nothing looked out of place. The cabins still stood, untouched. The old masonry of the monastery’s foundations still remained. He felt the sense of calmness he always did, but also a loss or dread which had never been there before.

  As he stepped out of the car, David noticed someone in the distance. It had the familiar haze around it that he attributed to a soul, not a living person. The person was hunched over. When she noticed him, her whole demeanor changed.

  She straightened up, leaned forward and took a defensive stance. He couldn’t see who it was, but she ran at him hard.

  David held his ground. He could see by her spirit she was weak. Her aura was a dull grey. Only her rage and hatred kept her going. She ran right into him, then passed through and fell over near the car. He felt a light puff of wind as she passed through him.

  By the time he turned, she was on her feet and in his face. She took a swing at him and lunged forward, trying to bite his face. She passed through him again, ending up behind him.

  When David turned he managed to get a good look. She was fat, dirty looking, ugly. He immediately knew who it was.

  “Well,” he said quietly. “This can only be one person. Clara James.”

  “Fuck you!” she replied. The hatred was as intense as ever. “I know why you’re here. You think you can stop Legion by yourself? You make me laugh, half-breed!”

  “Come now Clara, that’s not very nice,” David mocked. “I know the only reason you are here is because they used you to breach the boundary and now you’re trapped here—powerless, helpless, and, as always, friendless.”

  She tried to spit at him, but nothing came out of her mouth.

  “I see filthy habits die hard; much like filthy souls. You’re a spirit, you stupid bitch! You can’t spit. Yes, I am a half-breed; born from a keeper of the light and a normal woman. You thought you had everything covered. It appears, Clara, you weren’t as beautiful as you thought, because although you lured my father in, he was already seeing my mother.”

  She laughed. “We knew about your mother all along. At first I was supposed to kill your pathetic fool of a father, but then Legion knew we would have to wait for the powerful one to come along. We saw your destiny hundreds of years before you were conceived, and now it has all come to pass. When Legion grows strong enough to enter your precious sanctuary, when the final act is complete, you and all of the so-called good men and women will die and I will dance on your corpse.”

  David stared her in the eye. “There will be no final act!”

  Clara laughed even harder, exposing her revolting teeth through her cruel, thin lips. “You don’t know what to do; I can see it in your mind! Stay here and watch as Legion has its day upon the earth.”

  David felt stupid. He should have known she would be able to see his thoughts. He would figure it out. He had to.

  Ignoring Clara, he walked toward the sanctuary’s entrance. No being of the darkness could enter, he knew that much. None of them were powerful enough.

  He opened the trapdoor and walked down the stairs. The first room of cupboards and containers looked daunting. He opened the first cupboard and peered in. When he flicked on a light, he realized how many things he would have to go through. He had no idea how long he had before Legion would be strong enough to enter.

  That’s when he understood exactly what Clara had just said. ‘When Legion grows strong enough to enter your precious sanctuary.’ He thought hard. Why would they need to enter the sanctuary? Was there something in here that would give them power over others?

  He scratched his head. Everything in here had history and meaning, but nothing stood out in his memories of looking at them as a child. He had seen everything in the cupboards and storage containers; that was part of Elizabeth’s training.

  There were cups and chalices hundreds of years old, used by those who were so powerful, their touch gave the objects strength against evil. There were sketches and paintings of sacred places and people, text books, instruction books and books depicting things so evil you could only read them once.

  There were weapons used to kill demons in the past; stakes, axes, guns, clubs, knives and potions. Each one had blessings, and each had been used to destroy evil. There was jewelry and many gold bars, from times when the light had faced the dark and been victorious.

  Elizabeth kept everything spotless and ready for use. It was said if you used the same weapon to kill a demon it had killed once, the demon would be erased from existence and memory. David always wondered if that was just a made-up story.

  He also knew the records Elizabeth maintained were voluminous and would take years to go through. The cupboard contained pieces of wood, which, he remembered, were from a table a saint had died on during the middle ages. It also contained more jewelry, used by light-bearers over the centuries. There were gold chains, gems of every color and shape, silver crosses, and pictures and figurines of every deity of light you could imagine.

  The cupboard was huge, five deep shelves, and there were at least another twenty such cupboards on that side of the room alone. He had to think. His head hurt. Every breath he took, he felt through his injuries.

  Clara shouted from outside. “Figured it out yet, scum?” she shrieked. “Time keeps ticking away; tick tock, tick tock tick fucking tock, bastard,” she sang out of tune.

  David ignored her, but she kept going.

  “My, my, that’s a lot of nice treasures in there. They’ll all be ours when the darkness comes.”

  David cursed himself quietly. How could he be so stupid? She could see everything in there through his eyes. She had entered his mind outside and was still there. That was why she had charged through him. She knew she would have no ability to strike him physically, but she took his attention away while she got a hold on his mind.

  “Oooh, you figured it out,” she teased, her ugly tones echoing through the hallowed room. Her voice was so loud, David knew she must be on her knees at the entrance, projecting her voice.

  He concentrated to try and block her out momentarily. At the same time, he reminded himself to respect her power. She had been doing this for hundreds of years.

  She stopped shouting when he blocked her, and he formulated his plan. He lay on a table in the corner of the huge room. He remembered it was a table that a very strong light-bearer was born on as far back as their records went.

  His energy slipped out of his body. He had traveled astrally many times before and could do it easily. He looked down and saw his body, prone and vulnerable.

  His spirit was still connected to his physical being by an etheric silver cord. It would help guide him home when he needed to return. It was his lifeline; if it broke or was damaged, he would never be able to return to his body.

  He thought briefly about some of the places he’d visited, things he’d seen. He remembered a young boy’s exorcism, where he and a priest left their bodies and fought the demon as it exited the boy. That was a battle they had barely won. It was also very confidential. The Catholic Church had banned the practice of astral travel, or even the studying of the principles.

  David thought of Clara and was instantly transported to where she was. He appeared behind her, as she balanced herself on her hands and knees at the entrance. Her stringy hair hung limply as
she called to him, taunting him in her foul blasphemous language. She arched her back, trying to catch a glimpse of him.

  She had no idea what was happening as David kicked her hard. His foot slammed into her backside, causing her to tumble down the stairs. She shrieked and landed on the floor, and instantly rose into a fighting stance.

  She was confused. She had no idea what had hit her. She searched the room frantically for David, or any other light-bearer who might attack her, but nothing came.

  She saw David lying on the table, and realized what he’d done. She charged his body, not to attack it, but to wait for his spirit to return. She knew she had no strength or power in that room; if he got to his body, she would be powerless against him.

  David appeared by the table. Clara screamed and scratched at him. She knew as well as he that when they were both in the same dimension, strikes were as effective and deadly as if they were on the physical plane; his kick reminded her.

  As soon as he appeared, Clara grabbed at the silver cord behind him and bit into it. He screamed in agony, but managed to spin around and punch her in the face. She fell backwards, but came at him again.

  Even in her spirit form, the hatred in her eyes was evident. She feinted with her left hand and then kicked him, connecting with his knee. He grimaced and fell by the table, landing on his back.

  Clara jumped him and grabbed his hair on both sides of his head. She slammed his head into the floor as hard as she could, but she could feel the strength seeping from her.

  She scratched at his face and tried to poke him in the eyes, but he pushed his hips up hard. Clara lost her balance and landed beside him. David rolled on top of her and held her down.

  She screamed and swore at him, obviously much weaker now.

  “Fuck you,” she whimpered. “You’re as dead as me when the darkness comes.”