by E. S. Mercer
“It’s more complicated than that!” she argued. “Is it?” I asked. “If there were no rules, no guidelines set on how a man or woman must act, no societal laws and expectations, would those above us in the mortal realm act much different? Would anyone in any realm?”
Neither one of them answered me. “Just think about it,” I continued, pulling one of the creatures up to face them. “This is what it looks like when a man has been stripped down to its basic nature.”
The creature, emaciated and pale, growled; his eyes glazed over by the high it felt, with a one-track mind. It was grotesque and breathing vigorously through a toothless mouth, spraying the stench of putrid decay all over my shoes as it tried to pull away. Most people would have let go, but I turned him towards me, and placed my hand on his ice-cold cheek. I felt compassion for him and an empathy I would not have been able to explain. I understood the hunger they felt and the inability to control the feelings and desires inside them. He fought me until I finally let go of him and he dove back into the pile I had taken him from.
Not all them looked like him, however, many were still freshly human, where others, were barely recognizable as ‘alive.’ The longer they had gone without feeding, the more they deteriorated, never having the chance to free themselves by dying.
“Killing them all would do them a great service,” Constantine said, drawing his sword. “There is no cure for these people.”
“That is not what we are here for,” I replied, pushing his hand down. “They aren’t messing with us, so leave them alone, please.” Then, suddenly, I heard a loud gasp as a body flew out of the pile we had just left. We turned to see a man, completely naked, stumbling towards us. “Help me,” he whispered. His voice hadn’t been used in so long, he could barely make a sound when he opened his mouth.
He fell into Ksenia’s arms, pulling her down with him as he collapsed to the ground. But, as soon as she saw his face, she pushed herself away, falling backwards and hitting her head on a rock.
“Its Erik,” she said, right before passing out. As Constantine attended to his daughter, I found myself walking back towards the creatures he had been entangled with; they were changing. Their color, changing back to normal, hair growing where they were once bald and features, softening until they looked human again.
“You said there wasn’t a cure?” I asked Constantine, who was picking up his now conscious daughter. As soon as she could get her footing, she ran to Erik who was curled in a ball shivering and crying in terror.
“Where is Sabine?” she asked him, pulling him up so she could wrap her jacket around his waist. “Where is my mother?” He looked up at her as if he wanted to answer but his mouth was just too dry. Realizing it, she grabbed her canteen and gave him a sip.
“Leviathan has her,” he whispered. “He has kept her with him as a…” He couldn’t’ think of the word.
“A slave?” she asked, but he shook his head no.
“A pet?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “On a chain like a pet.”
“Is she here?” she asked. “I don’t know,” he replied, looking around. “I don’t even know how I got here.”
I could tell by the look in Ksenia’s eyes that she didn’t want to be there anymore. She had what she wanted and was content to leave but Constantine wouldn’t leave until he had Sabine.
“I will look for Sabine,” I said, helping another of the cured to their feet. “You two must help these people find clothing and water.” Constantine refused at first, demanding that he find the woman he loved, but I assured him, his daughter needed him more. If Sabine was with Leviathan, I would make sure she was rescued along with the brothers.
So, we parted ways. They found the nearest standing home and I climbed over debris and rubble to get to the damaged temple. Half of it had collapsed due to the explosion, leaving just the sanctuary fully intact. I climbed through a large stone window arch, jumping off the ledge into the Conclave’s main chamber, and right in front of an intoxicated Leviathan, who was slumped over on the Premier’s large ornately carved chair, practically drooling on himself. Michael’s body, was strapped to the collapsed altar next to him and barely looked alive, as Raphael lay in a makeshift cage, made of collapsed beams and wire and which was guarded by what looked to be a woman on a leash.
“Sabine,” I whispered, tripping over a pile of books. I turned my focus, to the man in the chair who began to stir.
“Took you long enough to get here,” Leviathan slurred, sitting up in the seat. “I expected you days ago.”
“You know time works differently here,” I replied, taking a step back. “I came as soon as I heard.”
“Which was too long,” he reiterated. “I have been waiting forever.”
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” I replied, walking towards him. “You are out of the void, why are you complaining?” Raphael asked from his cell. Seeing that I had arrived perked him up a bit and he was trying to look as if he hadn’t been beaten.
“I would urge you to hush!” Leviathan belted, sitting straight up. “Your mouth drives me to insanity.” “Whatever works,” Raphael shot back, smacking the side of his cell. Leviathan picked up a rock from beside him and through it at his prisoner, hissing and growling at him.
“Enough,” I cried, watching it nearly miss Raphael’s head.
“He won’t die!” Leviathan, announced, looking over at him. “No matter how much you drain him, he just won’t die.” “He is a Cimmerian Prince,” I replied. I had irritated him even more by reminding him of Raphael’s connection. And as much as he hated his father, he felt his lineage was much more important than theirs, making them beneath him. “And I am the son of Hyperion, I am much more than either one of them could ever be.”
“Maybe once,” Raphael chuckled, grabbing the gaping wound at his side. He had earned it, when he and his brother tried to fight their way out of the void. They took a few of the creatures down, before Leviathan ran him through with his own blade. If he hadn’t been drained of his essence, he would have healed, but he could barely stay awake, never mind find the strength to mend himself.
But it didn’t stop him from doing anything he could to drive Leviathan crazy.
“To be honest, I am fine if you take him,” Leviathan offered, walking towards the cell.
“I want them both,” I replied, walking towards Michael.
“Oh no, you can’t have them both!” he said, flying towards me. “I can’t let him leave.”
“Why Leviathan? Why do you need them so badly?” I asked, inching towards Michael. He grabbed ahold of my arm and dragging me towards the window. “This is why!” he said, pointing out towards the screaming creatures. “Look at the life he has given my people!”
“He?” I asked. “Don’t you mean they?” “No,” he said, looking back at Michael. “His essence is sweeter, as if he had been touched by…” he turned, catching a whiff of me, “Well, you! What did you do to him?”
“I don’t know, but you have to stop hurting him – both of them.” I cried, feeling myself getting emotional. I couldn’t stand to see anyone in pain, especially them.
“Do you think I care? Look at what my father has done to me!” he said, pawing at his own face. “Do you think he’s thought about what he’s done to me, even once?”
His hollow eyes began to well up with tears that hadn’t seen the surface in centuries. He tried, to hold them back, but he became overwhelmed with feelings he didn’t know he could feel anymore and began sobbing uncontrollably.
“I can’t begin to imagine how this has affected you,” I replied, realizing how much pain he was in. “But what I don’t understand is why you continued to allow it to hurt other people. Father didn’t curse these people Leviathan, you did.
“I am the sin eater,” he growled, wiping away his tears, “It was my job to save them from themselves.” “You had a choice brother,” I said, trying to reach out for him, but he pulled back, shivering from weight of hi
s feelings. “You could have set them free instead of taking their will to live.”
“I’ve remedied it,” he replied, looking proudly out the window. “Look what I’ve given them in return!”
“What is this?” I retorted, turning him back towards the window. “Does this look like happiness to you?”
“But they feel,” he said, a little dejected. “This let them feel something.”
“No” I replied. “You turned them into rabid animals, they don’t feel emotion. This is vicious, animalistic.”
“No, no, he did this,” he replied, getting upset and pointing towards Michael. “I didn’t, I….”
He was so angry at our Father for cursing him, that at first, he couldn’t take responsibility for any of his actions. It was Father’s fault they were cursed to live with no soul, or Michael’s for the fact that his essence drove them insane. But, for a moment, as he attempted to try and finish what he was saying, I thought I saw remorse and regret, or even an inkling that he understood what I was saying. But soon it was washed away by the overwhelming rage and anger that drove the cursed man.
“Enough,” he growled, lunging at me and grabbing ahold my neck, pulling my face a mere inch away from his. I could feel him began to pull something from deep inside me when he stopped, sticking his nose into the corner of my mouth so he could smell me, fiercely.
“I smelled it on her too,” he said, backing away slightly and slowly running his pointy, twisted fingers down the center of my chest before stopping to tap on my stomach. “Its fresh and new, but it’s in there. And it smells like him.”
“What is?” I asked, looking down.
He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “The baby.”
“What are you talking about,” I replied, pulling away. “What baby? You can’t know that!”
“Oh, but I can,” he chuckled. “Just like I knew the other one was with child too.”
“The other what?” I asked.
“The other you,” he replied, looking back out the window. “But her baby smelled different.”
“Different how,” I asked, trying to get him to focus on me. “You can’t have him, even if he may be the father,” he said, ignoring the question. “You have what you need inside you. I can keep him.” “I’m not going through this again with you,” I demanded. “You can’t keep him here. You are not doing him or you any good. And honestly Leviathan, this won’t end well for you if you try.”
“And yet while you try and save him, the rest of your friends are suffering above us,” he replied. “You sacrifice the mortals for a man you don’t really love.”
“I do love him,” I argued.
“Maybe you think so,” he said, staring into my face. “I believe you really believe it.” I could see his head cock to the side as he really tried to look deep into my eyes. “Even through the course stone that imprisoned her, I could smell the love she had with Gabriel. You on the other hand, love someone else.”
I searched inside myself, trying to figure out what he meant, but couldn’t think of anyone else but Michael. “Who?”
“The Librarian fills much of your heart. You love Michael because you think you need to and yet, the feelings she has for Gabriel drives you. If she loves him, so do you.”
“But Ryan isn’t meant to be part of this,” I replied, confused. “He isn’t who I am supposed to be with.”
“But you are not just her,” he replied. “It’s like there are two different people living inside of you.”
“So, I am not Evangeline?” I asked, questioning myself. “You are, but you are also Anessa. Don’t let them take that from you,” he replied, demonstrating a genuine concern for me. “Don’t let any of them take your identity."
“What is happening to them up there?” I asked, redirecting the subject. “Will they survive this?”
“The curse is more like an epidemic,” he replied, with much less concern. “Soon it will consume them all.”
"You need to stop them," I begged. “Please.” “I can’t,” he replied smugly. “What they do, they do on their own. I have no control over my people.” He looked back out the window, like a proud papa, watching his children.
“Are you not their leader?” I inquired. “Do they not follow you?” “I am their savior,” he replied. “I free them from their lives, but they follow on their own.” He grabbed ahold of my arm trying to get me to look out the window with him again. “They are beautiful to me, why can’t you see that?”
Before I could answer, he started screaming, trying to rip his hand off my arm, but he couldn’t move it. It was like he was glued to my skin as smoke began pouring off his palm and his skin began to melt away. The anger I had begun feeling towards him as he spoke, literally manifested into a toxic sweat that burned the skin on his hand. Then finally, when I was able to grasp what was going on, his hand was released and he pulled away, slithering back to the comfort of his chair.
“Wait, wait stop,” I begged, running after him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened.”
“You hurt me,” he whined, like a wounded little child. “You don’t like me.”
“Just give me your hand, please.” I pleaded, reaching out to him. “I can help you.” He just sat there staring at me. He was so passionate about how he felt that he couldn’t imagine me hating him for it. Whatever monster he had become, he didn’t see it and for a moment, neither did I, all I saw was a scared little boy who had been hurt by everyone he had trusted, including his own father. I understood how he felt and wanted nothing more at that point then to help him.
“Please,” I begged again. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I am angry yes, but I promise, I can fix this.” I knelt in front of him, hoping that my humility would soften him a bit. He really did believe he was saving these people, making up for his own mistakes and I couldn’t be angry at him for it. I smiled at him, reaching out my hand again and waited to see what he would do next.
“You look like her,” he said, slowly giving me his hand. “I didn’t notice it before, but you look just like Mother.”
“I know,” I replied, taking his hand on mine. “That’s what people tell me.” I held his hand gently as I placed my other hand over it. I had never tried this on purpose before but knew I had it in me to heal him and I needed to try. If I believed in my ability to do it, I was sure I could help him as promised.
“Now this may sting a little, but it will feel better in the end,” I said, closing my eyes. After a moment, I opened them again as the familiar blue light began to glow, rebuilding the skin and muscle on his hand. But to my surprise, the healing didn’t stop there. The light began to quickly snake its way through his veins and directly to his heart. From there, it branched out, through every vein, artery and capillary, changing the color of his pale skin to a beautiful warm almond tone.
Once the light dissipated, I could see how beautiful his appearance was, but his soul, still darkened by the hatred he had for my father and for life itself, kept him from recovering fully. His blue eyes changed quickly back to black as the wickedness slowly tried to creep back in. He could feel it, trying hard to hold back tears as he ripped his hand away from me again. “This doesn’t change anything,” he said, catching a glimpse of himself in a broken piece of glass. “You still can’t have him.”
I stood there and debated my next move. I was not going to leave without Michael and Raphael and I believed Leviathan would do anything in his power to stop me. I wanted so badly to cure him of the torture he had faced - being cursed the way he was. Not only as a lifeless man but as the sin eater my father had turned him into. If I could just find a way to get through to him and take that all away, I could ease his pain and make it easier to face the truth.
The next thing I knew, as if I was being controlled by someone else, I flew towards Leviathan, placing my hands on either side of his face and pulled him out of his chair so his lips were directly in line with mine. I held them there for a moment as I began to suck
the darkness out of him. It nearly choked me, it was toxic and bitter, but I wouldn’t let up until it was gone. When the last of it left him, I saw his eyes widen as his body begin to collapse in my arms. It’s as if I had taken the very thing that kept him alive and now he couldn’t go on without it.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, gently laying him on the floor. “I’m so very sorry.” But he wasn’t dead. After placing my head on his hollow chest, I could hear a faint heart beat in between extremely shallow breathing. It was as if I had put him in some kind of hibernation state. Placating my guilt with one more listen to his chest, my attention then turned to Michael who was face down on the collapsed altar and wrapped in some strange cocoon that covered everything but his head. His wings, which were visible to the naked eye, protruded from the back of the cocoon and were strung up on the fallen beams above him. Odd shaped tubes pulled his blue incandescent essence from the roots of his tethers and into collection bottles that lay all over the floor around him. I ran my hands along the structure of his wings which, dimmed by the draining of his essence, now looked more like translucent bones and branches than wisps of light.
I unhooked each of the tubes, pulled the daggers out that held his wings in place and started ripping at the cocoon, but it wouldn’t budge. It had a silky texture, but dried like cement, making it impossible for me to crack. I checked for a pulse, which was there, but so faint it was barely detectable. His breathing was so shallow, anyone else would have thought he was dead. But he was safe, for the moment so I chose to help Raphael instead. I needed to heal him and get him back up so he could help me. Sabine, who was still guarding him, never put up a fight when I asked her to move; simply stepping to the side and staring at me intently.
“Help her first,” Raphael whimpered, trying to sit himself up again. “I’ll be ok.” “Are you sure?” I asked, opening his makeshift cell. He nodded, so I leaned down, trying to remove the chain that was wrapped around her ankle, but she kept jumping away from me, terrified and staring at Leviathan.
