His Name Is Legion

by Michael Todd

  Korbin sipped his water. “Legion. What a damn mess.”

  Brock rubbed his face. He was now dressed in a long black tunic, black pants made out of a light fabric, and sandals. “That was the craziest shit I have seen out here. He seriously turned you with a look, although I thought at first he was going to kill you.”

  Korbin bit an olive, his eyes slightly glazed. “Everything seems so jumbled, like it happened in slow motion with my eyes closed. I remember my demon being terrified, trying to bring me back but then succumbing to the powers too. I felt no pain or no fear, but I was also very confused. It was like my life was no longer my own. I don’t know. I want to think it over more before I explain. Maybe give my mind a moment to straighten out.”

  Brock crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair, looking at his phone. “I have to go cut wood soon for Abyha. She was the wife of an Iraqi ally who worked within the government and gave massive amounts of intel to the US during the invasion. He was killed in the line of duty about three years ago, so the US made sure Abyha got to safety. They lost their daughter to bombs about six months before her husband died. She may live all alone in the tiny stone house, but she is widely respected and hates rebels. But if she helps you, she also puts you to work.”

  Korbin chuckled. “That’s good for you. You’ll get a little exercise.”

  Brock snorted. “Yes, because carrying your ass while running from Legion wasn’t enough exercise.”

  Korbin laughed and then frowned. “Carried my ass? Why were you…”

  Brock grimaced as Korbin sorted out the facts in his head. After a few moments, Korbin snapped his face to Brock’s. “Wait a minute. You shot me!”

  Brock wrinkled his nose. “I know, I know. But I swear it was for a really good reason.”

  Korbin threw back the covers and carefully inspected the white linen pants he had been dressed in, which had gauze around them. Brock put out his hand. “The wounds are pretty much healed, but the outside is still bleeding. I am assuming your demon had to fix you from the inside out. By the time you are ready to get up, they will be fully healed.”

  Korbin furrowed his brow. “They?” He looked at his other pant leg, finding another thick piece of gauze. “You shot me twice? In the knees?”

  Brock pointed at him. “Technically, yes, but it was for a really good reason.”

  “I think I get to shoot you now. It’s only fair,” Korbin replied.

  Brock raised an eyebrow. “But I’m not assimilated.”

  Korbin thought about it for a moment. “Okay, you’re right, so this is what we’ll do. I’ll fly your ass back out there, drop you into Legion, and then shoot you. That will make us square. Better?”

  Brock blinked, shaking his head. “I still don’t feel great about it, no.”

  A portal shimmered open, and Katie, Pandora, and Juntto stepped through, carrying their weapons. All three of them covered their mouths, and Katie jumped back as a rat the size of a Saint Bernard strolled past her, its tail nearly knocking her over. “Jesus!”

  Pandora shrugged. “What I thought was my favorite dimension doesn’t have donuts. We can never go back there. It hurts so much, still. So we get giant evil rat dimensions now. I just don’t care.”

  Katie shook her head as she opened another portal. “You need to get over it.”

  Stepping out onto the dusty, stony ground, Katie, Pandora, and Juntto looked around. The area was made up of rolling hills, part of it deep green and the rest brown and dusty. The only road near them was a small dirt one, evident from the tracks of tires rather than of a groomed surface. A small goat ran between them, and the sound of wood splitting turned them around.

  The portal snapped shut, revealing a small stone house with Brock standing out front, a scarf over his mouth and nose, dressed in a flowing tunic and pants. He threw a piece of wood into a pile and leaned on the axe, pulling his handkerchief from over his nose and mouth. “’Ahlaan bik.”

  Katie smiled and hurried over, hugging him tightly. A small woman shrouded in fabric came outside, nodding at Katie and Pandora. She put her hands out to them and pulled them along. “Sawf yaqtaluk ‘iidha kunt talbis mithl hdha huna. Euqul saghirat jiddaan fi albilad.”

  Pandora smirked, and Katie looked at her, confused. “What is she saying?”

  “Basically, we can’t go rolling around the countryside in Iraq like two-bit whores, so we need to put the jigglies away and cover our sacred crowns,” Pandora replied.

  The woman quickly pulled out two large scarves and wrapped Katie’s head, tucking the bottom of the scarf loosely into the neck to create a billow of fabric over her heaving cleavage. She did the same for Pandora, but she had to start over with a bigger one that would stretch that far. Pandora’s tits were monumental in size.

  Pandora took the woman’s hands and bowed slightly to her, thanking her for both herself and Katie in Arabic. They were then led into the house, where they found Brock washing his hands in a bowl of water and Korbin sitting up, looking a little worse for wear.

  Katie hurried over to Korbin. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  Korbin nodded, patting her hand. “I’m all right, just a bit tired. My demon healed all my wounds, even the ones I got from friendly fire.” He darted his eyes at Brock.

  Brock shrugged. “I had to shoot him to get him away. He went all purple-eyed and became a ninja sword master.”

  Pandora sat down in the chair by the bed. “What did it feel like?”

  Korbin looked down at his hands. “It was terrible. Legion woos you. He uses your sympathy and compassion to get you to willingly submit to his collective. There are no commands or discourse. His words seem to pulsate through you.”

  Katie thought about it for a second. “Okay, then how does he make you do these things?”

  Korbin shook his head. “He doesn’t. He doesn’t make you do anything. That is almost scarier than if he was controlling your every movement.”

  Katie glanced around at the others. “I don’t understand.”

  “When you submit to his collective, it’s almost like a powerful drug surging through your body. The stronger ones are able to handle it, using that drug to fuel them. The weak struggle with their bodies, trying to fight back. That is why they look like zombies, but when Legion calls, they muster the strength,” Korbin explained, getting off the bed and limping to the window. “He doesn’t have to make you do a thing because the reality of it is, you want to. All the loyalty and sympathy you may have had for the world now includes only those in Legion’s army. That way you submit to the collective. You aren’t yourself anymore. You are Legion; you are his army, you are part of him, you feel his emotions, and you never fear him.”

  Pandora got up and put her hand on Korbin’s shoulder, sending a comforting vibe through him. He patted her hand with a thankful smile as she turned to Brock and Katie. “This is one of the most dangerous Leviathans. Not because of his strength or size. Not because of his magical powers or ability to persuade, but because as humans, we only put our all into something if we one hundred percent believe it. The enchantment or whatever you want to call the purple haze makes the human only believe in Legion and his soldiers.”

  Katie’s heart beat a bit faster. “Have you experienced it, Pandora?”

  She shook her head. “Not personally, but I have seen the handiwork of someone who has. A man allowed it inside of him, and when he could not capture his wife and two small children to take them to Legion, he killed them all with an axe and then burned the house down. His family refused to be taken, so therefore, they were no longer his family. He did not bat an eyelash, not until Legion went into hibernation again and the haze wore off. Then he couldn’t live with himself. It didn’t take them long to find him hanging in the tree at the site of his burned-down house.”

  Everyone was silent.

  Pandora crossed her arms. “He could end these times.”

  Legion and his army marched forward, having left their dead behind and aba
ndoned the search for the humans who had attacked them. There were far more important things on Legion’s list than using his collective for small and uninteresting assaults. He led the way, wrapping his gauze tighter around him as the sun beat down. Those within the collective had stripped out of their heavy uniform jackets, cooling their bodies the best way they knew how.

  Several miles into their trip, they dipped down into a valley and went over to a very small airfield. They crossed the airfield toward the main hangar bay, where the sound of clinking tools could be heard. Legion put one arm up, his voice a whisper in the ears of his collective. “Stayyyy…”

  Alone, Legion glided into the hangar, stopping at the door. To the right were two mechanics, chuckling as they put their tools in the right spots. To his left was a jet, the pilot standing on the steps and speaking on the phone in Arabic. He got off the phone and waved his hand at Legion. “Who the fuck are you? Do you know whose plane this is? This belongs to the Hussain family. The great Saddam himself once rode in it. You dare bring your disease in here? Leave at once!”

  The two mechanics grabbed wrenches and walked toward him. Legion put his right arm out and the wrenches flew from their hands, slamming into the walls. He kept his hand out as the two mechanics tried to charge him. As soon as they stepped close, he grabbed their necks, and their eyes went wide as they choked. The pilot tried to run, but Legion was smarter. He whipped his left hand around and flipped the pilot upside down, floating him over to the two mechanics.

  Slowly he glided forward, his bright purple eyes shining in the darkness of the hangar. He leaned in and whispered to them, “We. Are. Legion.”

  All of their eyes changed and shimmered as their bodies convulsed, trying to fight it off. Finally, they went still, and Legion righted their stances. The mechanics grabbed their things and entered the staff part of the plane while the pilot walked up the steps and hurried to the cockpit. Legion waved to his followers as he boarded the large jet.

  The army of men took their seats, their heads back on the rests, staring at Legion. Vinders sat in the front row with two others who had strong abilities. Legion spoke to them out loud for the first time. His deep, raspy voice wavered through the air like a thick fog. “Where will we find proper armies for Legion?”

  Several of the army members began to speak up, calling out from their seats in monotone voices. He got conflicting reports from them ranging from Texas to Japan to Quebec. Finally another voice, stronger than the others, spoke up. “The Damned. There is a fort in Romania filled with Damned. They are all young and barely trained, and will be easy to bring to the Legion. Their demon strength will heighten their fighting abilities.”

  Legion turned to Vinders, who had stood as he spoke and moved in front of him. Vinders stood at attention like a good soldier while Legion’s bright purple eyes scanned him from top to bottom. The Leviathan reached slowly up with his gauze-covered arm and ran his finger down Vinders’ face. “You are yourself Damned, is this not true?”

  Vinders’ eyes flashed from purple to red. “That I am.”

  Legion nodded. “Yes, I like this idea. A Legion of both Damned and non-Damned alike. We can take others in Romania.” He moved back over in front of the others and Vinders sat down again, still staring straight ahead. “We need a strong army. We are not just Legion; we will be the new race upon this planet, and those that do not wish to conform will be brought in with force. But once they see the ways, our ways, they will happily allow themselves to be sacrificed for the cause.”

  Legion walked to the empty seat next to Vinders and eyed him for a moment before taking it. “You will be my aide. My extension.”

  Vinders bowed his head. “I am honored.”

  Legion’s voice turning raspy and deep again, traveling all over the plane and through the cockpit doors. “Close the plane doors, and plot a course for the fort in Romania.”

  One of the Legion soldiers got up and went over, closing and latching the door. The pilot had heard him and started warming up the plane; he then pulled up a map and typed in the specific coordinates that would bring them as close to the fort in Romania as they could get. The plane moved slowly out of the hangar bay and began to taxi out onto the runway.

  As the plane began to take off, whimpering could be heard coming from behind a dumpster back by the hangar. A man’s hand gripped the edge as he slowly peeked around it, blinking hard and watching Legion leave. Once the plane was in the air, a janitor, scared shitless, stumbled onto the tarmac. He fell to all fours and threw up, coughing and weeping.

  He sat back on his feet and wiped his face, watching as the plane went higher and higher, becoming nothing more than a trail in front of him. Scrambling to his feet, he hurried inside, using the key on his chain to unlock the office. He locked it behind him and grabbed the phone, pulling it down to the floor. His hands shook as he dialed the numbers, knowing exactly who he needed to call. He hadn’t always been a janitor, and he knew that the plane they were on was secretly being tracked for other reasons.

  14

  The general wiped his forehead as he typed quickly, trying to get the mundane portions of his job done and submitted. He had many other things to worry about, but he could not hand off the reports for several different sectors of the government when it came to the war and to the happenings around the country to his aides.

  His secretary came over the comm. “General, you have a Liwa Farad on the line from the Iraqi Ground Force Operations Office.”

  The general raised an eyebrow. “Thank you.”

  He paused to gather himself before picking up the phone. “This is General Brushwood.”

  “General, this is Liwa Farad with the Ground Force Operations Office. We discovered through an informant that a plane has been stolen from a small but influential airfield outside Al Fatsi. This was the same field that housed, and apparently still does, the Hussain family jets, although we don’t believe there is any connection with the family.”

  Brushwood rubbed his face. “Did the informant give you any information about who was on the plane?”

  Farad cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Actually yes. Apparently, there were what looked like more than a dozen men with military-issue fatigues and boots, although none of them had anything with an insignia on it, and also several Iraqi farmers, from what it looks like. He said they all acted a bit strange, and their eyes glowed purple. We were told to contact you specifically.”

  The general shook his head. “You did the right thing. I will get on this immediately, and if you acquire any more information, please either give my office a call or send me a direct email.”

  They hung up, and he sat there for several moments, thinking about what was going on. There was still no mention of a Leviathan, but there was little else that could explain the events that were unfolding. The secretary came back on again. “I’m sorry to bother you again, General, but Katie is on line one, and it is urgent.”

  He picked up the phone immediately. “Katie. What do you have?”

  “Korbin is on here with me as well,” Katie replied. “We have unfortunate news. Legion, the Leviathan, is loose, and he’s most likely on a plane that was just stolen from a small airport in Iraq.”

  The general’s heart sank. “I just got a call about the plane. Is the rest of the collective with him on the plane?”

  Korbin spoke. “Yes, General, at least most of them. We were able to take down several before I was assimilated and Brock pulled me out. Thank you, by the way, for a safe place to lay low. As of when we left them, there were dozens of men in his army, and by now there could be dozens more. They are innocent, but they have been overtaken and will stop at nothing to protect the Legion.”

  Brushwood glanced out the window as a plane flew high. “This is unfortunate.”

  “General,” Korbin said, taking the phone off speaker, “I think it important that you consider the course of the plane, and although it is not what we want, don’t allow that plane to land.”

/>   He gripped a pen in his fist. “I know. I know. I want to preserve life and save the innocent, but at what cost to others? I am pretty sure I can prevent that plane from landing. Send your prayers to those men. I’ll contact you shortly.”

  The general hung up and sat in the silence of his office, staring into the distance. He had to get on top of things, but in a moment of decision like that, all he could do was let the silence comfort him. Slowly he reached over and pressed the secretary’s comm button. “I will need you to call the contact for the World Council. Tell them I am calling an emergency meeting in twenty minutes. If they cannot be there in person, we will have them conference in. This is a high-level alert.”

  Her voice wavered slightly. “Yes, sir.”

  The general didn’t sit down, and he didn’t stand behind a podium. Instead, he planted his feet in the middle of the room, looking at the rows of council and sub-council members hurrying to their seats. One of the aides walked up and whispered into the general’s ear. “Everyone is either here or conferenced in now. You may begin.”

  “Thank you,” he said, waiting for him to take his seat before turning to the council. “Esteemed members of the World Council, I have called this emergency meeting because we are currently caught in a very unfortunate situation. Someone orchestrated the theft and implementation of technology that was restricted from council use. With this technology, they were able to locate a slumbering Leviathan named Legion. They then proceeded to send two separate unauthorized teams out to take him out.”

  He shifted his eyes around the room. “These strikes failed. Currently, we have a very dangerous Leviathan and dozens of soldiers assimilated from British military and US military forces on a plane heading toward Romania. This situation is dire, and decisions cannot wait. It is with grave disappointment and heartache that I bring my recommendation to the table. We cannot let the plane land. This Leviathan is stronger than any other we have faced, and has the ability to create a conscript with a single whisper. We need to keep this collective from growing.”