by Brian Rella
Legion swirled, hissing and moaning and circling above the tree. At first no one noticed the oily mass of slinking monstrosity in the air above. A man raised his phone to catch the top of the tree in his photo and caught a glimpse of the swarm-cloud. His joyous smile faded to shock as an eyeless face of Legion shot toward him, latching its crimson lips to his chest and ripping him from the ground and into the air. His screams echoed above the crowd, and more people turned to see what all the commotion was.
The horde of Legion swooped and began plucking people from the crowd randomly. Police fired their weapons. People ran in every direction. Roy was deposited into the middle of the storm of chaos he and Legion had unleashed upon the city.
A taxi driver hung out the window of his cab, gaping at the scene. He was pulled from his window by a frantic man, who leaped into the now empty taxi and tried to drive away. Legion took hold of the car, its faceless heads smashing through the windshield, and hoisting the car into the air while pulling the fleeing man through the windshield. Legion tossed the car into the side of the building across from the tree and the car exploded over the heads of fleeing people, but there was nowhere to run. Legion was everywhere.
Roy cackled at the mayhem and destruction. He walked slowly through the crowds of panicked people, cowering under cars, huddling in stores, but there was no sanctuary from his malevolence. Legion flooded the streets with its black oily limbs, and grew. And grew.
Roy.
A dark ominous voice invaded Roy’s thoughts, causing him to pause. It wasn’t Roy’s own inner voice. It was foreign, inside him, but not his own. What the fuck?
I have a gift for you, Roy.
“I don’t need a gift,” Roy said. He swatted at the air around him. “Stop talking to me. Who the fuck are you?”
A man appeared suspended in the air in front of Roy, as Legion gobbled him. Blood poured from his mouth and he made a gurgling noise, and clutched at the oily body of Legion. Roy grunted at him. “Shut up, you,” he snarled. “And you! Get out of my head!”
Roy, I can give you more power than you can even imagine. Join me.
“What the—” A black cloud of recognition fell over Roy’s face and the noise and commotion around him evaporated. He stood in the midst of the madness, calm and serene and understanding. “You…” he growled. “You are not welcome in my head.”
Roy’s vision went wavy, like the air just above blacktop in the middle of the hottest part of the day. He fell into a gray hole, the sides of which he sensed rather than saw. He felt weightless as he passed through the grayness and suddenly, Roy found himself standing in a barren wasteland, ashen and charred black. The horizon was a conflagration and acrid smoke filled his lungs. An orange sun sat low and fat in the sky, and a thumping cadence resounded in his ears, sending tiny tremors through his thick belly.
“You,” Roy sneered. “I’m going to kill you.”
The heartbeat boomed in Roy’s ears, and he squinted, pressing his palms over his ears. He fell to one knee under the power of the sonic explosion. His head felt like it was going to explode. Nalsuu’s deep, ominous voice boomed in his head.
YOU cannot kill ME! You are a speck of nothing in the Universe! I will destroy you a thousand times over! In excruciating pain and wonder, you will beg to serve me! I alone command the Fallen. I alone will rule the land of the living! All will serve me! And you will join me, or suffer an eternity of death and fire from which you will never return!
Roy was brought to his knees under the weight and power of Nalsuu. Through the anguish of the resounding voice in Roy’s mind, Roy’s own fury grew. He had served before. He had served in the land of the living under the wickedness of Pierson and others before him. And he would never serve again.
No one, and no thing would ruin his fun. He pushed back at the presence of Nalsuu in his mind with a strength and force he now knew he had. His power was great, too, and he would kneel before no one. He pushed himself from his knees and stood tall. He forced the roar of Nalsuu’s heartbeat from his head and his maniacal laugh rattled through the air as the self-proclaimed King of the Fallen receded by his will. “Eternal life and ruler over the land of the living, huh? And who are you to give me those things?” Roy’s face was murky and dark. Spittle squirted through the space between his bared teeth, the rumble of a growl rattled in his chest.
“Who are you to give to me?” Roy shouted. “You have no power over me or Legion. You are trapped here, aren’t you? And that’s why you need the girl.”
In the vision of the Second Death, an enormous purple heart appeared before Roy. A network of veins were coiled around it and they began to unfurl and move through the air at Roy. Lightning ripped through the black sky and scorched the ground in the distance. The veins had mouths and oozed with green sludge at Roy.
I am the Leech of Aeons, the Father of all Monsters, the KING of the Fallen, and I will show you my power!
Several veins darted at Roy, their mouthy ends drizzling green slime on the tar-colored ground, but Roy remained calm, and from behind him, Legion sprang forth and met the attacking veins, catching them with its crimson mouths, and biting on them until they fell away, squirming and coiling at Roy’s feet.
Nalsuu roared and the ground shook.
Roy snarled. Legion hissed and moaned. We will never serve you, Nalsuu! We are free, and you are doomed to the Second Death.
The landscape faded and Roy fell backward through the gray hole. He landed on his feet, standing back in the middle of the madness at Rockefeller Center. His girth trembled with his bellowing laughter. “Come for me, Nalsuu. Come. I’ll fucking kill you!”
The shadowy torsos and mouths of Legion swarmed around him. Roy raised his hands in the air, his fingers grazing against the oily black bodies of his army of demons whirling above the now burnt black Christmas tree. Legion was everywhere. The sound of tearing flesh swam through the air; blood puddled in the plaza; screams and explosions echoed in the violent maelstrom of mayhem.
“You see,” Roy shouted to the sky, “I have the power! I don’t need you!”
The swarm of Legion encircled him, rubbing their oily black flesh all over him. Roy danced in the madness around him, his feet splashing in the puddles of blood.
“I’m coming for you, priest! Ready or not, here I come!”
45
BRENNAN
October 30, 2015
New York, New York
Brennan gazed at the clock through tearing, bleary eyes. It was late. He had been down in the library for days, having even slept there. He needed a break. He needed to pray, and more than anything he needed to see the outside world, to feel the cool wind on his cheeks.
He stepped up the stairs, the mysteries of the Fallen still running around his mind. At the top of the steps, he passed through the hidden door and into the crypts, turning to cast the spell to re-hide the entrance to the library. Walking slowly, replaying the research in his mind, he passed by the headstones along the wall, heading back to the rectory.
At the top of the stairs behind the kitchen, he paused, hesitating before opening the door, a queasy feeling beginning to creep through his belly. Something wasn’t right. He’d been buried in his research for so many days he hadn’t been paying attention to the world outside of his own mind. Now that he had disconnected from his research, he sensed a strong, evil presence nearby.
He opened the door and stepped above ground into the rectory. Dark energy, heavy with dread and gloom, pervaded the air around him, standing the hairs on the back of his neck straight up.
Time slowed as he moved toward the door that led to Madison Avenue. A sound played on the wind, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. He touched the doorknob and turned it, opening the door to the chilling wind outside. It cut through his skin like a thousand razors, nicking at his cheeks and forehead.
Brennan clutched at his shoulders, shivering in the cold, stepping out onto the street. His eyes began to tear up. A scream came on the wind from t
he south, and Brennan glanced in that direction, frowning.
“Oh my God…”
A thick shadow of oily black coils stretched the width of the avenue and sped up the street toward him. It plucked awestruck people from the sidewalks, hoisting them into the air, and absorbing them into itself. It was coming right for him.
Legion. How did I not see this?
He ducked back into the rectory as the swarm of glossy shadows steadily closed the distance between them. Brennan fled back down the corridor to the kitchen. He cast the spell to reveal the door leading down to the crypts. As he pulled the door leading down open, he heard the front door splinter and explode inward.
He took the stairs two at a time and jumped from the fourth step to the landing below. Throwing open the door to the crypts, he sprinted down the hall. Moans and hisses followed him down the corridor. The light bulbs exploded behind him, showering the floor with electrical sparks and tinkling fragments of glass that danced on the stone floor. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the eyeless heads and crimson lips and gnashing teeth of the demon swarm, its oily skin reflecting the explosions of the lighting.
At the entrance to the Watcher’s library, he spun around, and let loose a powerful blast of energy at the demon. It impacted and exploded around it, caving in the ceiling and temporarily blocking the path of the moaning horde.
Brennan didn’t stop to get much of a look. He revealed the door with a spell and fled down the steps. I have to get a message to the council. Legion is loose. How?
Brennan’s foot caught in his cassock and he fell, tumbling down the stairs, smashing his head on the side of the wall. He felt a rivulet of blood spill down the side of his face as he gathered himself. Grasping at the railing, he pulled himself off the floor, and raced past the book stacks to the computers at the back of the facility.
The crack and explosion of the door leading down to the underground facility echoed through the high-ceilinged room. God help me. Not much time.
He reached the computers and sat at his terminal, frantically trying to log in, to send a message. The moans crept up on him, but he forced himself not to look. He stared at the screen, waiting for the machine to log in so he could send a message. Then he remembered his phone. Jesus, my phone…in my pocket. How stupid!
He ripped the phone from his pocket beneath his cassock. It tangled in his rosary beads which broke as he thrust his hand beneath his clothes. The beads click-clacked and rolled around his feet.
“Come on, come on, Lord, please help me!”
The screen finally filled with icons and Brennan started the secure connection and hit the speed dial to the Order on his phone simultaneously, praying one of them would connect quickly.
His computer screen showed the secure program going through its startups. His phone connected overseas and began to ring. Hope blossomed—until something stabbed him in the shoulder.
“Arrrrghh!” he screamed as he was lifted into the air. The many faces of Legion surrounded him and wrapped themselves around his body. Their mouths snapped at him, taking chunks of flesh from all over. He squirmed and raised his hands in defense, howling in agony.
He attempted to cast a spell, but a crimson mouth clamped down over his lips and his mouth filled with his own blood. He was bound by the demon’s many torsos and felt blood seeping from the wounds on his body. He felt faint, his life-force energy beginning to wane. He was helpless, caught in the swarm, when he heard a voice.
“Enough. Do not kill him…not yet,” someone said.
Brennan was trapped and bound and could not move. The man commanded the demon to sit him upright and Brennan came face to face with a grossly overweight and unclean-looking man who was grinning maniacally as he stared at Brennan through a pair of glasses. He had a mustache and a comb-over and looked like an overweight mailman with his stained polo shirt and cheap shoes.
“Hello, Father. I have a confession to make,” the man said mockingly.
Brennan couldn’t reply. Instead, he wriggled with what strength he had in the demon’s grasp.
“Don’t you want to hear my confession? I’ve been a bad, bad boy. I’ve let my friend Legion loose all over the city to find you.” The man paused and a dark tide came over his face as he leaned in to Brennan. “Because I need you to tell me where the Cunt of the Fallen is!” He grabbed Brennan by the shoulders and shook him. “And then maybe I’ll let you die!”
46
ROY
October 30, 2015
New York, New York
The minutes passed by like hours. The priest was not doing well. Legion had taken too much of his flesh. He was dying, and Legion was hungry to absorb him into its ranks.
“WHERE IS SHE?” Roy roared in his face, spittle flying into Brennan’s eyes. “You have little time, so little,” Roy taunted. “If you tell me, I’ll let you die. If you don’t…” Roy glanced over his shoulder. One of Legion’s heads looked over his shoulder at the priest and hissed. Its teeth chattered and Roy mimicked the demon with his own teeth.
“Come on now. Where is she? Where have you sent your little Watchers to find her?”
Brennan’s eyes drooped. His skin began to turn murky and black. It had begun to have a silky look to it.
“No, no, no! You stupid fuck!” he yelled at Legion. “You’re fucking killing him. Now how am I supposed to find the girl?”
“Brennan?”
A woman’s voice came from the computer on the desk. It was calling the priest’s name.
“Brennan, are you there?”
Roy flashed a sideways smile at the priest. “Well? Are you there, Brennan?”
“Who is that?” the woman asked.
Roy reached over and turned the screen so that it was facing both himself and Brennan and looked directly into the screen. The faces of the council were spread out in squares in the video conference. Many of them gasped.
“Oh, goody,” Roy said. “I do love an audience.” He did a little dance in front of the camera, his chins jiggling. “And who might you all be?”
No one responded. “Oh, don’t want to talk to me?” Roy bellowed. “He didn’t either, did he, Legion?” The demon hissed and moaned. Brennan wheezed, his transformation progressing. “Oh looky, looky! This is the good part. You don’t want to miss this!”
He adjusted the camera so it was facing straight at Brennan as his death and transformation came to completion. His hair fell out and his eyes began to close. Legion released its grip from his mouth as his transformation was in its final phase. Finally free from the demon’s clasp on his mouth, in his last gasp of life, Brennan spoke.
“Esg’nah ril fhan ra’ ansinah,” Brennan whispered before succumbing. His transformation completed and he was turned.
“What did you say?” he asked the head of Legion that used to be Brennan. The demon hissed and moaned, but did not reply.
Roy looked at the screen and scowled. “What did he say!”
A crooked line curled up the side of the woman’s face and the screen went blank.
Roy banged on the screen. “Where did you go?” he shouted and slapped the screen again. “Where? What did he say? What-what-what-what—ahhhhhh!”
Roy thrashed about at the workstation. He picked up the monitor over his head and went to smash it onto the desk, but Legion wrapped itself around his arm and prevented him from smashing it on the table. “What the fuck are you doing?” he screamed.
Look.
Roy glanced down at the desk. There were books and notes all over the table. Legion released his arm and he dropped the monitor to the floor.
“What’s all this?” he said, pushing papers around.
Answers. Read, master. Answers all there.
“Fuck! I hate fucking reading!”
47
FRANK
October 30, 2015
New York, New York
The sun dipped behind a mountain peak and the air turned cooler. Frank arched his back and stretched. He was looking forwa
rd to an ale and some dinner in front of the fire back at the Temple, but the boys weren’t ready to go yet. It seemed they wanted to practice into the night. He thought about giving them some alone time. Let them practice and enjoy this time together. They might not have a chance again for a while.
“I’m heading inside,” he said, turning back to the Temple.
The boys ignored him, but it warmed him to see them having fun. This has been great for them…and for me. I am—
Frank stopped mid-stride, his hands going to his temples.
A gust of wind sent Frank’s hair whipping behind him. Powerful shock waves vibrated through Frank and he dropped to the ground as images and emotions flooded his mind. He was faintly aware of the painful grunt that came from Jack and the call for help from Nic.
Legion.
Uriel.
Dalkhu.
The prophets.
Nasriel.
The Second Death.
Brennan…
Then it was gone, and Frank was on his hands and knees, panting from the power of the Last Breath.
“Brennan. No…”
“Frank! Help me!”
Frank turned toward the sound of Nic’s voice and saw Jack on the ground. His eyes were closed. Nic was over him. He had him by the shoulders, shaking him.
Frank stood and nearly fell over. He stumbled toward the boys. “Jack? Nic, let me check him,” Frank said, and Nic moved out of the way.
“He just fell…I…I…”
“Jack,” Frank said. His mind was still rolling from the infusion of Brennan’s consciousness from the spell of the Last Breath. He tapped the boy on the cheek, holding his shoulders off the ground as the effects of the Last Breath began to dissipate.
“Jack,” Frank tried to shout, but it came out like a whisper.
