Dark Destiny

by Thomas Grave

  The Vue Harbor East high-rise hotel, one of the tallest buildings in Baltimore, rose up in front of him as he turned a corner. Directly in the center of the hotel was a large, jagged hole, making the building appear like a tall, rectangular donut. Sparks of electricity shimmered to life in the hole only to fade away seconds later. The hotel defied all the laws of physics by still standing, and yet, it was.

  Sebastian continued on, his robes rippling in the wind. Even though he physically didn’t have the Book, he knew the Elder was here. “Elder. Get me a lock on Sara. Now. Track her and give me her location.”

  Now you are sounding like your old self. One moment.

  Something stirred. To his left, a small group of homeless people lay next to a lit metal barrel. Many of them were covered up with broken cardboard boxes.

  One budged, making a guttural groaning noise, wet and phlegmy. Slowly, the homeless man uncovered himself to reveal a half decayed zombie.

  “Uh-oh,” the Reaper said.

  This was bad. Not only was Sara probably wandering around lost, there were zombies about too? Massive alarms went off in his head. She was in danger.

  “Any luck locating her?”

  The Elder remained silent.

  “We need to find her,” he said quietly. “And how did we get into Purgatorium?”

  I don’t know. I did not do this.

  “I did,” called a familiar female voice.

  It came from a window display to his left.

  If this department store had been in the Living World, it would have been condemned and then demolished. The front window of the display was broken and glass littered the sidewalk. Small shards of glass, like shark’s teeth, remained within the sills. Behind the broken window stood three half destroyed, creepy child mannequins. Two of them were almost completely demolished. The middle mannequin, for the most part intact, had only small cracks on her, and her face was bleached almost white. Her eyes, however, were pure white lights.

  It finally hit him why her voice sounded so familiar. It was the girl made of water, the one that had come to him in his bathroom sink.

  “Water girl?” questioned the Reaper.

  “Ariel,” the child mannequin corrected.

  “You’re able to relocate my blink? That’s possible?”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “But, why?”

  “So we could talk. Sebastian it’s only been three days since you have awakened and you’re already in deep trouble.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sebastian, remember that conversation we had about not breaking the rules?” Ariel asked sternly.

  He didn’t answer.

  “They are coming for her,” Ariel said.

  Flashes of lightning ripped through the sky, clouds swirled around a single point high in the atmosphere. Sebastian stared at the disturbance with wide eyes. More clouds were drawn in from miles around, forming a massive funnel, like an upside down volcano, its gaping maw hovering miles above the earth.

  “Who’s coming for Sara? What do they want with her?” Sebastian asked.

  The volcano erupted, spewing forth rays of blinding white light. Deafening blasts of thunder emanating from within the vortex assaulted Sebastian’s ear drums.

  “Them,” Ariel said, her voice intense as a pulsating miniature lemon-yellow star dropped from the volcano’s mouth. “Raphael.”

  Trailing closely behind it was another star, this one a rich orange. “Gabriel.”

  And then a much larger star, crimson and white, appeared, lightning crackling all around it.

  “And,” Ariel continued, her voice dropping, becoming more serious, somber, “Michael.”

  The trio of falling stars descended, disappearing from view behind a row of half-demolished buildings.

  The light in the mannequin’s eyes dimmed.

  “Go now,” she said, her voice growing softer, less substantial. “Be careful.”

  And the mannequin’s porcelain frame disintegrated into a pile of dust and was carried away with a sudden gust of wind.

  Sebastian grumbled under his breath. “One thing after another.”

  Whose fault is that again?

  The Reaper blinked.

  Tuesday, 11:59 pm (Purgatorium)

  Sara appeared in an alley alone and disoriented. The head spinning sensation hit her. She stumbled to a brick wall to rest herself against it. This nausea from the teleportation seemed to get worse, not better. She put her hand on the wall to hold herself up, leaned over and vomited onto the street.

  She waited a few minutes before moving, keeping her eyes closed and breathing deeply. Finally, the vertigo passed. She forced herself to stand straight and take stock of her surroundings.

  When she came to the opening of the alley, she realized she was lost. Not only that, her surroundings were off. Maybe she had been knocked out and had woken up in a nightmare. She thought the building to her right seemed eerily familiar, but it was now old and decrepit, a mere skeleton of its former self. The city appeared as though aliens had invaded and wreaked havoc on the place.

  On the ground floor of the building, cold, wavering light streamed through cracked windows, casting frightening shadows onto the street. They danced about, forming unnerving shapes, before fading away and forming again.

  Shaking her head in confusion, she edged along the street, wondering where Sebastian was. As she walked, she got the feeling someone was watching her. She whirled around but saw nothing but an empty, downtown city street. She heard nothing but the whistle of wind blowing through the darkened air.

  Lightning flashed, followed by a clap of thunder that shook her bones and continued to roll along the clouds above the city. Everywhere, the remains of buildings shook, threatening to collapse. A small tremor rolled underneath her feet.

  She took in the dark clouds in the sky. While she gazed up at the moonlit sky, the dark clouds broke apart and bright lights shone down everywhere, as though thousands of spotlights pierced the night. These mystical spotlights swept the streets from the skies, moving about, scanning the area, searching for something.

  Or someone.

  Wednesday, 12:01 am (Purgatorium)

  The Reaper came out of his blink on the rooftop of a small, three-story brick building. Down below, a flickering street lamp popped. Glass rained from it but evaporated before it hit the sidewalk. A second later, the flickering light somehow came back on.

  He scanned the area and furrowed his eyebrows, frustration growing within him. Once again, this was not the place he had in his mind’s eye. The destination was supposed to have been directly in front of Sara. He’d focused on her and had gotten a staticky picture of her in some sort of alley. Not on a rooftop.

  “Again, not where I was trying to go. Is Ariel still relocating my blinks?” he asked.

  No, I sense another force at work. There is currently a lock on you and I’m trying to neutralize it. But it may take time.

  Thunder rolled across the sky. Spotlights shone down from the clouds, appearing all over the city. One, bigger than the others, practically the size of a skyscraper, swiped directly in front of him on the street below. It was bright, made of pure light. Humming accompanied the light, a dark droning noise that got louder as it brushed against his cloak, rustling in the wind.

  The drone paused then continued.

  The Reaper stared, amazed. “Are they searching for something?”

  Yes.

  “What?”

  Sara, the Elder replied.

  A shot of fear pierced his abdomen. “Sara? Why?”

  The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as goose bumps crept along his skin. His senses screamed at him to look in the direction of the street below him. He peered over the edge of the building and spotted somebody standing at the mouth of an alley.

  Even from his distance on the roof, Sebastian saw that the man was big, muscular, the size of an Olympic bodybuilder. Black wet hair, slicked back. He was dressed in some sort of
black military uniform with a long black jacket that fell to his knees.

  Gabriel, the Elder said, his tone hushed.

  Gabriel looked up with cold hard eyes, as if he’d heard his name mentioned. His thick body cast a long shadow across the path of the alleyway. His face was emotionless and his eyes locked onto Sebastian.

  “Did he bring me here? Like Ariel was able to?”

  Yes—behind you!

  The Reaper spun around to find Gabriel right in front of him, set to strike, his blade glinting as it sliced towards him. The Reaper’s hands shot upwards, ripping his scythe out of the air. Purple and black fire burst forth from the ethereal world. The ghostly blade became tangible just in time to parry the incoming strike.

  The clash of metal on metal sent a shockwave tearing through the surrounding area. The roof cratered. Every window in the vicinity shattered. From the strike, the Reaper launched off the roof, falling fast. His body crashed through the wall of an adjacent office building. Upon entering, he lost his grip on the scythe and it vanished in a wisp of purplish mist.

  The force of his landing obliterated the wall and sent a tremor through the building’s foundation. He dug his fingers into the ruined flooring, but was unable to stop. Momentum carried him across the tiled floor into a concrete support beam that did nothing to slow him down. Desks and walls crumpled, one after another, as he skidded.

  Blink! the Elder screamed in his hood. Blink!

  Sebastian focused his eyes on an undisturbed spot some ten feet away and blinked. Mercifully, it worked. In an instant, the momentum was gone, his feet planted firmly on the floor. With his heart pounding in his ears, Sebastian took a deep breath.

  He feverishly looked himself over. No cuts, no bruises, not a single injury to speak of. The fall alone should have killed him, but besides some frayed nerves, he was fine. Though he’d felt the impact when he crashed through the wall and beam, there was no pain. It had to be the robes. They had to be protecting him, like a suit of impenetrable armor.

  Reaper, the Elder said, even with the new Soul you assisted, there is no way you can handle—

  “—hang on a sec.” A low rumble of cracking concrete echoed around him.

  “Aw, crap,” he griped. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  A hairline crack crept around the ceiling, making its way to where the concrete support beam had been. The sound of metal shifting and creaking seemed to come from everywhere.

  Sebastian’s voice wavered. “Oh, man. That looks even worse.”

  This place is coming down. The Elder’s voice was almost at a whisper.

  “Aww maaaaan . . .”

  Sprinting for the nearest exit, the Reaper weaved between pieces of falling debris crashing down. Twisted masses of steel and glass continued to nip at his heels as his feet pounded the floor. He rolled to his right to avoid being crushed by a huge concrete slab. Despite the dust that surrounded him and clouded his vision, he found a cracked window for his escape some ten feet away.

  As soon as he was close enough, he hurled himself through the panes, covering his robes in splinters of glass. A hail of shards trailed behind him as he plummeted to the sidewalk below. A web of fissures spread beneath his boots when he hit the ground. Building fragments slammed into the pavement. He’d be buried alive if he didn’t keep moving.

  The Reaper took off running, bending his knees and digging his heels into the battered sidewalk. Every step pounded new cracks into the crumbling street. The roar of the falling building crashed behind him as he raced away from the cloud of acrid dust.

  You need to be quick. I can sense them tracking you, the Elder said. I’m working to neutralize it but it will take me a while.

  “Do what you can,” Sebastian said as he turned a hard left into an alley. Gabriel stood in the middle, arms crossed, head lifted, chest out.

  The Reaper tilted his head, examining his new foe. How could he get away from Gabriel if he was capable of teleporting just like himself?

  Sebastian eyed Gabriel’s weapon. A thick broadsword, like something that might have belonged to a knight of the round table. The metal on the blade appeared to be made of the same material as Sebastian’s scythe, as well as the lock on the Elder’s book.

  “Where is the girl?” Gabriel asked, his tone even. Bored perhaps.

  No answer came.

  Gabriel shot a daggered glare at the Reaper. “I won’t repeat myself.”

  “You better learn,” the Reaper said, and he blinked.

  He reappeared atop the building he was knocked off before. Strong gusts of wind rose up from the streets, whipping his robes around him. Not being where he wanted caused him to panic. He snapped his attention back to the mouth of the alley below. Empty. No sign of Gabriel anywhere.

  Continuing to blink may be pointless. They can track and relocate you.

  “I know. But what exactly am I dealing with here?” he blurted out just before he took off running for the opposite edge of the rooftop, the fabric of his robes surged back with the force of his speed, as well as the heavy winds.

  An Angel, answered the Elder.

  “An Angel? Seriously? I thought—”

  Not just any Angel. An Archangel. One of the most powerful castes.

  The Reaper’s black, leather boots battered the rooftop as he charged for the ledge, picking up speed with every stride. The roof of the next building stood at least fifty feet away, a half-constructed—or maybe half destroyed—mess of bent girders and jagged rebar. If he couldn’t make the jump, he prayed his newfound faith in the protection granted by his robes wasn’t woefully misplaced. As his foot came down on the fringe of the roof, he kicked off as hard as he could, soaring up into the gusting air. A wavering cry escaped his lips as he climbed higher, confidence swelling inside him. For a fleeting moment, he thought he might be able to fly, but the very instant this crossed his mind he began his descent. Well, maybe he couldn’t fly, but he could jump like a boss!

  “An Angel,” Sebastian repeated.

  The man who attacked him was nothing like what he’d imagined an angel would be. His homicidally violent tendencies pointed to something more sinister than a messenger of the divine. Definitely not the creature he expected.

  His landing sent a wave of vibrations through the rusted metal beneath him. The entire structure rang in a low hum, like a twenty story tuning fork. Each time his foot made contact with the girders, the vibration grew. He pressed onward.

  “But shouldn’t an angel have wings and a halo or something? Sitting on a cloud, playing a harp? The beefy douchebag who’s after me doesn’t have either of those. There’s also the matter of him trying to take my head off.”

  Angels can appear however they choose. Your human books and films portray them as gentle, placid creatures. In truth, certain classes of Angels are powerful warriors who have fought and won many battles.

  “Gotcha. One thing’s for sure, that guy was strong.”

  Coming to the last inch of girder, the Reaper leapt again, sending one last potent shockwave coursing through the crumbling edifice. Sixty thousand tons of steel and concrete crashed to the ground in his wake.

  “I was wondering,” Sebastian said as he soared through the air, plumes of dust rising up behind him, “your lock, my scythe and his sword—are they all the same material?”

  Yes, they are.

  “Does that mean I’m an Angel as well?”

  Yes and no.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  You are more.

  “How wonderfully vague, thank you. Can you elaborate?”

  Before the Elder had a chance to respond, Gabriel materialized on the roof the Reaper was about to land on. If he was “more” maybe it was possible he could beat Gabriel. With newfound bravado spurring him on, Sebastian reached out. Time and space tore open. Swirls of indigo flame erupted, shaping into a solid and familiar form. In his hands, the scythe’s mirrored edge gleamed in the moonlight. Gabriel pointed the tip of his broadsword at the
Reaper flying towards him and nodded once, a mocking smile on his lips.

  Drawing power into himself, Sebastian swung downward with his scythe. Gabriel raised his sword and absorbed the impact. Cracks of red and black lightning lit up the sky as their weapons met. A spray of white-hot sparks flew from the point of collision, melting holes into the roof. The blow knocked Gabriel back several feet, but his stance held strong.

  Sebastian surged forward, snarling like a wolf. Two more diagonal swipes pushed the Angel farther. Heart racing, Sebastian charged again.

  He swung his scythe at waist level, intending to split Gabriel in half. With a quick parry, the attack was deflected, sending the Reaper skidding back, his boots carving a trench into the roof’s surface all the way to the edge.

  Gabriel lunged forward into a blink, right hand cocked and ready, just as the Reaper came to a stop. With no time for Sebastian to react, Gabriel’s hay-maker landed squarely on the tip of Sebastian’s jaw.

  The hood absorbed the majority of the impact. But still his jaw hurt. This was bad. He had to find a way to end this quickly.

  Sebastian needed to find Sara.

  Wednesday, 12:49 am (Purgatorium)

  For the past hour, Sara had been wandering in what appeared to be a deserted city. She moved cautiously, probably going no more than a couple of miles. She came across a department store that looked as though it had been looted. Close to the broken entrance, there were some thick coats she wouldn’t have been caught dead in had she been in a normal world, but here in this strange world, they would do. She picked one that may have once been a black bear. Back out in the strange streets, she pulled the thick coat around her tightly. She shivered anyway.

  A small brown paper bag rustled through the cold wind, dancing on the ground, making its way to a group of people who appeared homeless standing in front of a bonfire. Their backs were to her as an outline of orange glow danced around them from the flame.