Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  Then he paused, and I watched Friar Sean’s eyes open wide.

  “How was I so blind to this?” Matias said out loud. “What was I missing?”

  “If the presence of God is absent, then your holy powers will be gone as well,” the Friar reasoned. “If your powers are gone, then the power which protects and saturates this place is…”

  My chest began to burn, and I grabbed ahold of my breast in pain. Matias’s expression grew dark, and suddenly, the doors to the chapel exploded inward. The three of us turned suddenly to see an army of demons standing at the ready just outside of the chapel.

  “Arm Yourselves!” Matias hollered, as he dove for a triad of flags that decorated the left side of the pulpit.

  I don’t recall which flags they were, but I remember the colors were vibrant, even in that dim light. Looking out at the demons, I saw that their eyes glowed with their own unnatural crimson hue. The silvery blue light of heaven above seemed absolutely pristine by contrast. I was surprised that even though the power of the divine was absent from this place, the aesthetic distinction should remain just as strong. With an indelible sense of beauty set firm in my mind, I faced the coming onslaught.

  The demons approached.

  27

  Roma

  The forms that the demons assumed were nothing short of spectacular. There were small impish ones, and others who were overwhelming in size. Many of them looked like humans, but there was something twisted and dark about there posture. In addition to that, an unholy light spilled out from their eyes.

  “I don’t know if I can kill another human…” I said, cautiously.

  I became aware that there was going to be a lot of death, and that if I was being fair about the whole thing, I was going to be getting some blood on my hands.

  The calm before the fight was so stifling that it was a relief when the first blood was drawn. There was a flash of movement that erupted out from the right side of my vision. It was the flag pole, followed shortly by Matias himself. I watched as the flag pole cleanly severed a demon’s neck. The head fell to the floor, and the body dissipated into shadows before I could register what was happening. Matias had already dove into the fray, had retrieved the sharpened flag pole, and had swung it around at the other enemies who were closest to our position.

  The Friar ducked down and launched a pew up on its side so that it provided a limited form of protection for himself and for Claire. He then ran out to grab me and push me down behind the pew. Just as he removed me from my stupor, a rock flew over my head. If I had stayed there any longer, I would have been hit. But the sudden jolt to my senses saved me from injury.

  “I’m sorry,” I cried, realizing what had just happened.

  “Don’t cry,” he responded. “Fight, and stay alive.”

  The message was simple enough, and I thought him a fool for saying it, but there was a level of sincerity to his tone that caught me. I looked over at Matias, and saw him wrestling three off of him, and emerging from underneath a dog pile like an indomitable champion. I knew we couldn’t all be champions like that, but the site was enough to inspire me to give of myself in ways that I hadn’t yet.

  No more victims, I thought, realizing that I hadn’t yet fully stuck up for myself.

  Claire was on the same path as myself, and had already risen up from behind the pew to stab a demon that came too close for comfort.

  The Friar disappeared for a moment, leaving us to fight off the demons by ourselves. When he came back, he had with him a stock of water in an ornate small vase that he produced from behind the pulpit. With a prayer, he launched it like a grenade into the crowd of demons. The water exploded in mid air from a lance hurled by Matias. The result was that a huge section of the demons who approached the pew where Claire and I took cover, were doused with water.

  Holy water, blessed by some previous saint, and sitting there until the time was right, and the need for it would become obvious to Fr. Sean. There had never been a better time, and from the looks of it, there might not be again. In spite of our best efforts, we were failing, and miserably so.

  Matias was in full retreat. I watched, frantically, as he backpedaled toward my position. He was beating the demons off with a hand, and nothing more. Watching him fight was a stunning experience. At times, I could hardly tell where the demons ended, and his body began — that’s how many of them he seemed to be up against. In spite of it, he maintained his autonomy. When he reached my position, he pushed me toward the back of the room, without breaking his fluid engagement.

  I fought back, against him, and against the demons. I grabbed bibles out of the rear of the pews, and threw them. I stabbed one with a pencil, and punched another with an open hand. Still, he pushed me backward, steadily working to protect me against my own will.

  I turned around to see Claire get thrown against a wall. The demon who threw her there had repurposed the flag pole as a personal weapon. Claire had put up a good fight, but the outlook was not positive. As I watched, the demon lunged forward, the flag pole’s stake end directed straight at Claire’s chest.

  Friar Sean’s last, valiant action in this world was to dive into the demon and detract his attention from his previous victim. There was a brief struggle, but Friar Sean was a man who was trained with how to pastor sheep from psychological demons. His specialties were learning about, and tracking the occult energies that secreted this world. At his heart, he was a valiant man, but he was not a warrior.

  The demon threw the Friar up against his own pulpit, and then attacked viciously with the flag pole. The first strike made a clean slit through the Friar’s neck. He was done for, but the demon planted the spear firmly through the Friar’s left side. I watched as his head collapsed forward, bleeding out his life’s blood onto the same carpet where the parishioners walked to receive their crackers and grape juice. The spear stood resolute in the wood of the pulpit.

  Behind me, I heard the dull sound of flesh beating up against flesh. When I turned around, I saw Matias had launched backward in the air toward me. He hit the floor and skidded backward, ending up at my feet. After seeing the way that the Friar had been killed, and hearing the screams of who I can only assume was Claire, I wanted only to give my love to someone while I died. I knelt down and clung to Matias’s body with all of my heart, waiting for the end.

  From the middle of our embrace, I felt a warmth grow in my chest. The anxiety that I felt about death went away, and I felt an uncomfortable heart palpitation that seemed to reflect a pause in time itself. Suddenly, light exploded from between our two bodies, and a blue fire illuminated my consciousness.

  I could have stayed there forever. The peace and beauty of that psychic state was something that I pray that I’ll never forget. It was better than any drug, or any other relationship. For once, in that fleeting moment, before impending doom, I felt whole.

  Then they were gone.

  The demons.

  All of them.

  There was nothing left but the chaos of a battle come and gone.

  “What…” I asked, completely bewildered.

  I looked into Matias’s eyes, and saw that his expression mirrored my own.

  “What happened…?”

  The words were mine, but the confusion was everywhere. For the first time, Matias had no ready explanation.

  28

  Roma

  Looking upward into his eyes, I saw the change happen in an instant. For a moment, he and I were there, basking in the glory of some strange and brilliant resolution. For that one, simple moment, he and I had created something unique and powerful. We had both recognized the potential.

  Then it was gone, and I felt both alone, and incredibly selfish.

  “There’s no time to discuss that,” Matias replied, shifting me off of his body, using the strength of his arms.

  I felt my body rise easily off of the ground, as he managed to both lift me up and raise his own body to a sitting position. I couldn’t help but be in awe of his
core strength, in spite of everything else that had just happened. My attraction for him was effusive, likely because we had just made it through yet another traumatic situation.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, he sat up, and rushed over to the Friar.

  I turned around, and saw that Claire was stripped naked and scratched, but otherwise all right. While the demons had made a martyr out of the Friar, they had obviously had other plans for Claire. My thoughts darkened as I thought about the endless number of them. Then I realized that as soon as Matias had been killed, they would have likely raped Claire and myself to death.

  Claire was hushing the Friar now, as he struggled to gurgle out a single sound.

  “Shh… you’re just making it worse. Hold out, we can get an ambulance here… just hold out,” she pleaded.

  Her usual cocky manner had been completely replaced by a level of concern that I can’t say I’d heard from her before that moment. She was usually so callous. Now, seeing her, not caring one bit for herself as she tried to take care of the Friar, I felt shame.

  “That should have been me,” I thought to myself, letting self-doubt and my conscience blur the lines between what ‘should’ have happened, and what did.

  The gasps of the dying man, wet with blood, brought me back to reality.

  “Dsk..” He said.

  “Please,” Claire said, struggling through her own tears while looking at the Friar. “Don’t push yourself. Help will be here soon…”

  Matias raised his hand, to Claire’s shoulder, and gently, but firmly told her to stop.

  “Kll…..” The Friar continued his voice weakening as he spoke. “Dsk…”

  I saw Matias lower his head for a moment, in prayer. Claire began to cry. I watched the entire scene helpless to change anything. I wanted to act, but all I could do was sit and observe — stunned at all that had just transpired.

  Then, I watched Matias stand up, and lift his eyes to the cross behind the pulpit. He made the insignia of the cross on his breast. Then, I noticed that the Friar stopped struggling.

  “Is he?” Claire asked, turning to Matias.

  The Saint didn’t respond. Instead, he walked purposefully to the back of the room, and down the hall toward the dormitories. While he was gone, I walked over to Claire, and put my arm around her bare shoulders.

  She was staring stoically at the dead Friar, but tears were streaming down the sides of her cheeks. I had never seen her display such intense emotion, and I didn’t blame her one bit. As a matter of fact, I admired her for it, and I told her.

  “You really handled yourself well back there,” I offered.

  She laughed, and made a kind of gross, snotty sputter.

  “I saw you give a few solid hits yourself,” she replied.

  I turned her physically away from the Friar, and put my arms around her. I brought her close to me, and gave her the tightest hug I could possibly offer her. There were no more words available to me that could have changed anything for the better. Instead of offering meaningless consolation, which is all I could have come up with at the time, I simply hugged her. Her tears fell down onto my shoulder while I held onto the bare skin of her back. As I looked over her shoulder, I saw Matias return.

  He was moving quickly.

  In one hand, he carried a short group of papers. In the other, he carried what looked like freshly folded work out clothes.

  “Put these on,” he offered to Claire with a smile.

  “Thanks,” she sniffed, turning around to catch him in the eye. I could see she was evaluating him, wanting to see if he was checking her out or not. He stared straight into her eyes and nodded silently. Then she laughed.

  “I guess we’re even now.”

  “I don’t believe that debt is something that we can have to each other,” he replied.

  He then leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.

  “Only grace.”

  I turned to the body of the Friar.

  “Grace, and Sacrifice,” I replied.

  “Who’s to say they aren’t the same thing,” Claire interjected, throwing a sweater over her bare chest.

  I felt a sudden pang of jealousy, and looked to see if Matias had noticed. He met my eyes evenly, and once more, I felt shame.

  “The Friar was sending us a message before he departed from this material plane,” Matias began.

  He raised the papers up with his hand, and then directed our attention to them. “These papers are the conclusions of his research. His last words were “Desk” and “Quill.” The papers were located there.”

  “What do they say?” I asked, quite recovering from those sudden and unexpected emotional changes.

  Matias nodded.

  “New Mexico,” he replied. “There’s a man there, someone who believes what he believes. Someone who can help us. The name and address is listed right here.”

  “That’s great,” Claire replied, but I noticed something darker hiding behind Matias’s eyes.

  By then, I had lost all restraint.

  “You’re not telling us something,” I interjected. “What is it?”

  “You’re perceptive,” he said, looking up at me plainly. “Very well. I was thinking about our friend the Friar.”

  “What about him?” Claire replied.

  “If the gates of heaven have been closed,” he mourned, “Then where will this good man go?”

  29

  Roma

  The sun was well over the dawn horizon by the time we were on the highway. There is something about tragedy that causes time to pass without your awareness. I found myself so lost within my own mind that hours and hours slipped passed me. Eventually, it was dusk, and we were somewhere out in the middle of the Arizona Desert.

  Claire and I were responsible for driving. Since I was given the opportunity to space out on the way to Tucson, I took the wheel for the remainder of the trip. She pulled into a gas station, and instead of getting out and taking care of the pump, she handed me the keys. I then got out and laughed to myself while she crawled up in the back seat of the Friar’s car, cuddling herself in the clothes of the dead man we had left behind somewhere outside of Los Angeles.

  Nothing out of the ordinary had taken place since we had been on the move, and for that, I was grateful. It was nice to know that it was possible to experience a break. The near constant onslaught had worn on my nerves. In spite of the decent amount of rest I had gotten along the way to Tucson, I still felt as though my nerves were rattled to the core.

  The time in the gas station was brief. Nothing more than a bathroom stop, a coffee, and some gas. Fortunately, the Friar had kept some cash on hand, which meant there was at least one less thing to worry about. The gaze of the cashier lingered on me for longer than I would have liked, but I chalked it up to being paranoid.

  I still had enough sense in order not to immediately cast disbelief onto the man. I had dealt with enough trauma victims to realize when subjective horror fantasies caused problems that weren’t actually there. The problem was — that line was growing more and more faint as the hours passed.

  The encounter with the store clerk got my mind spinning. By the time I was back in the car, I had a question for Matias — something that I felt I needed to understand before we got any deeper into this rabbit hole than we had already traveled.

  I opened the door to the car, and smiled.

  Claire was curled up in the backseat. There wasn’t nearly enough room for a grown woman to do that effectively, but somehow both she and I had made it possible. I resigned myself to the drivers seat, and then turned to evaluate Matias.

  He was sitting with an erect posture, and his eyes closed. He was staring straight ahead, and I could tell that his senses were stretching outward in all directions. He had a sense of composure that one only typically sees demonstrated by monks in films. His ability to retain both a solitary point of focus, while still be compassionate enough to relate to the world around him was astounding to me.

  I c
ouldn’t help but be intrigued.

  “Matias,” I began, before halting.

  I didn’t want to interrupt him, but I needed to ask him this question.

  “Just how dangerous is this sort of thing going to get?”

  I paused for a moment, thinking that, perhaps, I was going to have to explain myself in order to really have him understand my position. Naturally, he was an angel, or so he claimed to be; so this sort of thing should be nothing more than a walk in the park for him. Still…

  To my relief, he didn’t belittle me, like others might have done.

  “You need to say goodbye to the idea of a normal life,” he answered. “At least for now.”

  We kept going for a few more minutes in silence. Then, we pulled up to a traffic stop. When I looked in the rear view mirror, I noticed something was off. We were being followed. This time, the problem wasn’t extra-planar in scope — but it didn’t need to be. We hadn’t gotten four miles outside of Tucson City Limits before our trail was picked up by Highway Patrol.

  Then it dawned on me.

  The feeling I had experienced in the store. The way the clerk had been watching me. The instincts that had protected me back in the church.

  Circumstances may not have been for the best, but I’ll be damned if I wasn’t adapting impressively.

  “Put your hands where I can see them!” the officer shouted.

  He already had backup on the way, and the other Highway Patrol Vehicles seemed to come out of nowhere.

  “You, Sir, I’ll need to see some identification,” the officer said to Matias.

  Claire woke up, and grunted with displeasure.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.