The Crescent Stone

by E G McNally

Will wrestled around with the reddish brown one knocking him back toward the elevator. He smashed into the elevator and ripped a chunk of the steel door off, swishing it back in the air at Will. He ducked a few times, but one of the bone etched gargoyles tumbled into his feet, knocking off his balance and then as he tried to knock away the darkish green one, the large reddish brown one laid a strong powerful smash to his skull with the steel chunk from the elevator door, and sent him reeling to the floor, where the other two braced his arms and carried him off up the stairs.

  While Will was trying to set off a distraction, Shyla was browsing through each of the rooms silently trying to wake the children and ready them for an escape. She successfully reached her invisibility cloak inside of all the rooms, allowing the children to see her, and still keeping hidden from the cameras, until she saw him.

  An almost flawless child, she once thought to be a dream. He’d short wispy golden blond hair that unlike his cheekbones didn’t resemble anything of his Native American ancestors, and he had her little button nose and her beautiful cream colored skin. His chin was small and narrow, and his brows thick and shadowy, but the most amazing recognizable feature that the little child carried was his eyes. They were like little globes of swirling fire, the same flaring color of her fur; blazing red mixed with the creamy undertones of yellow, but they were missing something. . . Life.

  “Deon,” she yelled his name, with no response.

  “Deon,” she yelled louder, waiting for a response until finally the lights went out.

  She thought to herself, “Power is gone this must be my chance.” She flexed her razor like claws and tore open the door-lock, carefully shoving the door open, and racing in alongside the little boy.

  “What’s happened to you?” She whispered tears streaming down from her face. “You’re just a child?” She chided leaning down against him and swooping his little body up into her arms. She nestled his head in her hand and pulled it into her face looking at his eyes again. “What have they done to you?” She whispered, still totally focused on the child staring into his lifeless unyielding eyes. He had no responses to anything, even the little motions she made to move him affected nothing in his posture or responsiveness.

  She pulled a blanket off of the bed he had be sitting stiffly beside, and wrapped him like a swaddled baby, and then tied it like a sling, around her small body, keeping one arm around him, supporting him closely to her body while she stepped up and over to the next room.

  She frantically ripped open the door-lock with her razor claws gathering up the children in each room.

  “Grab a blanket from your beds its cold outside,” she repeated to each roomful of children and then motioned for them to follow as she found the stairwell near the elevator. “Stay close so that they might not see you, children,” she said to them, and then they began to flood into the stairwell. After she had collected all the children from both of the barracks levels, they slowly and silently escaped through the stairwell.

  “We’re scared lady,” several of the children whispered to Shyla as they were climbing the stairs.

  “I know children but we must stay silent in order to get away safely.” She replied.

  “I want my mommy,” another child cried and then Shyla could hear a couple of other kids sniffle in agreement but then they quieted down, for they could hear some shouting and banging coming from outside of the stairs.

  As they got to the top of the stairwell, Shyla reminded the children to stay very close and not to make a sound. “Okay, we have to be very silent and very close together. We must sneak past anyone out there without them noticing, in order to get out of this place. Just be strong one last time children, please.”

  She gathered them all around closely, took one deep breath and pushed open the door hoping that with all the commotion outside they wouldn’t notice the door open. The children slowly one by one filed into the main hallway, blankets wrapped tightly around each of them, and then they slowly moved down the hallway, keeping close to the wall, in case anyone needed to move through it. The security door at the end of the hall was fortunately open, and they filed through carefully, pausing and stepping aside, to allow a single man to run down to the end of the hall toward the elevator.

  All the doors had been opened at the top of the building, with guards posted on each side and a truck was parked outside the main entrance with several men stationed beside it, like they were waiting on something.

  Shyla quietly ushered the children out of the main entrance making sure to avoid any contact with any of the guards, and hurriedly rushed them into the snow. Once all of the children were together, she rushed them back behind the building into the darkest area, making sure that footprints wouldn’t be noticed in the snow.

  “The children are gone, search the grounds,” someone near the entrance barked an order. “This was all a diversion, get them back and I mean now, and bring the kid up here to me.” The man shouted, roaring with anger.

  “Oh no,” Shyla whispered. “Wait here children, and don’t move.” She abandoned the children for just a moment not actually moving far enough from them to break the invisibility, and peeked around the end of the building.

  And there, inside the building stood the very man who destroyed her life, finding every means possible to torture and dissect her, a man she once called father, Major Bradshaw. Beside him, was a team of four of the most deadly looking gargoyles she’d ever seen before. One covered in slithery scales like a snake, and another raptor like, all etched with bone brows and bone spikes coming from their joints. They didn’t look anything like the gargoyles that she and her friends became, warm and graceful, but rather dark and horrifying.

  She became distracted from the rage building up inside her as she saw, from out of the hall, two entirely bone etched gargoyles, dragging an unconscious human body, bloodied, and bruised.

  “Will,” she thought loudly, hoping that he’d wake up, but before she had a chance to remember what he’d made her promise. Promise to leave, and not come back for him no matter what, she was pinned.

  “What the . . .” she shouted. “Get off me.”

  A large shimmering white daemon much like the one that Will becomes, slammed her against the wall.

  “Here’s one, I got her.” He shouted to Major Bradshaw, grasping both of her hands and pulling them tightly behind her, leaving the sling with the small boy dangling from her shoulder.

  “You don’t know what you’re doing, get off of me.” She shouted some more, no longer holding her invisibility cloak.

  Two more of the monsters joined the white one to brace Shyla in place and drag her alongside the unconscious Will and toss her on the ground. Rifles pointed at both Shyla and the child in her sling, one of them kicked her sharply in the ribs. “Move, and not only will I shoot you, but the kid will get it too.” One of the random men spitefully shouted at her.

  “I see you found the child you supposedly never had, Shyla,” Major Bradshaw said, surreptitiously pulling aside the blanket and peering at the child’s face. “A very gift from the God’s, that one is.” He commented tossing back the blanket, “but then coming from you what else could we expect.” He finished and then stepped back. “Take him back to his room, and get rid of her,” he nonchalantly ordered several of the team to dispose of Shyla.

  “NO, Deon . . . no,” she screamed as they pried him away from her, bracing her tightly as the large reddish brown gargoyle stepped in and injected her with something that almost instantly made her body fall limp, allowing them to drag her off in the opposite direction that they carried the boy in.

  Chapter XX: Vampire Repayment

  “Wake up, Derek Willem,” Major Bradshaw chided.

  Will began to feel the painful throbbing of his head, and the sharp stabbing pressure of a bullet wound in his arm, as he slowly regained consciousness. He could feel his ribs bursting with pain and a cold trickle of blood dribbled down the side of his head, as his vision blurred in and out, slightl
y clearing up with each phase.

  “Bring back the boy, Deon. I have a perfect task for him.” Major Bradshaw ordered again.

  “That’s it boy, wake up,” Major Bradshaw placed a foot on the fleshy bullet wound on Will’s arm and twisted hard, causing sharp pain to shoot all up and down Will’s arm and neck.

  “Hey, the rest of the children are out here,” someone shouted from outside.

  “Good, get them back inside and lock ‘em up. I’ve had enough crap for today. Go help the boys, Jake. Those kids are important.” He turned to the white gargoyle and sent him away.

  “So there are children here? The same kids that were kidnapped from different schools,” Jake asked?

  “Don’t be stupid boy, the government doesn’t kidnap anyone. Now off with you,” he ordered at once with no apparent desire to answer anymore of Jake’s prying questions.

  He realized that Taylor might not have been lying. He needed to be sure, before making a rash decision. There weren’t that many children; maybe they weren’t the kidnapped kids. The Major hadn’t lied to him before, so why would he doubt him now?

  “Don’t be stupid kid, I know you’re new to all this but you’re on the wrong team.” A strange voice echoed into his mind. “If you’re not going to help, then stay out of the way, we’re coming and we’re coming fast.” The voice commanded with more force than any voice he’d ever heard before.

  “Am I hearing things?” Jake glanced around, before lunging off toward the back of the building, searching for the children that were now scattering about.

  “Derek Ralph Willem, subject 2 5 7, you’ve got something I want.” The Major’s words gushed with lust.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Will managed to spit the words out gritting his teeth through the pain.

  “That’s okay, I’ll just get Deon, to make you give it to me,” after grinding Will’s arm into the floor once more he looked over to child, Deon, who was absentmindedly staring off into space standing beside the Major.

  In a tranquilizing harmonious voice Major Bradshaw stooped down onto his knees, looked Deon straight in the eye, pulled out a jewel, and spoke to him. “Deon,” he said, waving the stone fragment back and forth at Deon, in a slow hypnotic motion. “I want you to reach into Will’s mind and seize control. Once you’ve done that I want you to return with him to their hideout, and conceal yourself as a rescued child. I want you to wait there, living with them, controlling Will and keeping tabs on the activities that Dr. Ambler is involved with.” Major Bradshaw waved the fragment back and forth like a metronome and then began to count backwards from five. “Five, four, three, two,” and instead of saying one, he released the stone and let it fall until it stopped at the end of a tether.

  As soon as the stone dropped, Deon shifted his gaze from Major Bradshaw to Will, and looked him directly in the eyes. He stood there for a moment with his little chest rising and falling with every shallow breath of air, which he sucked in, and continued to glare into Will’s eyes.

  “Ah, get out. . . out . . .” Will choked, as a new burning sensation seared inside his head. His fists were clenched tightly together, and it appeared as though he were fighting off some invisible entity, wrapping itself around his body until he finally stopped seizing. After a few moments, Deon stepped back, away from Will’s motionless body on the floor, and once again unresponsively looked at Major Bradshaw.

  Will’s eyes went blank, and the little struggle he had left inside him disappeared. Suddenly he turned his head, looked up at Major Bradshaw, and without even recognition of pain stood up and addressed the Major. “I am in control now,” the words came out of Will’s mouth, but they really came from the little boy.

  “I’ll take that now,” Major Bradshaw reached down and yanked the money pouch from Will’s belt. He opened up the pouch and dropped the stone piece onto his open palm, examining the specimen victoriously, and then addressed the boy again. “Thank you, now to get you back without suspicion?” Major Bradshaw rubbed his chin.

  “Excuse me Sir, I don’t mean to interrupt,” a light went on in the little boy’s face as he began to speak. “There’s a very large assault of extremely powerful Vampires on their way here. It seems that the Ancient One, Kamau Vanderhyte, is leading the assault, and with him, some other very powerful ancients. I fear you have less than ten minutes before they lay siege to the base.” The little boy finished speaking, and then the light that illuminated his face went out, and he fell back into an expressionless stare, off into space.

  “Sir, could that be right?” The large reddish brown gargoyle spoke. “There hasn’t been a Vampire recorded other than Kamau, in hundreds of years. There couldn’t possibly be a large group of them.” He nervously questioned the child’s vision.

  “Yes, we’ve never recorded anymore, but that was only because we could never get Kamau to surrender his race’s whereabouts, and no matter what we did to him, he never betrayed them. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t more. Deon has never been wrong about anything, ever. So notify the scientists and let’s get the hell out of here. If this is anything like the towns that were mysteriously slaughtered in the 1400’s, then we can’t be anywhere near here when they attack.” He shouted, staging Deon pathetically in the snow. “Remember, blend in with them.” He whispered to Deon.

  “Get the chopper ready,” one of the guards shouted to a man in the truck outside. “We leave in five.”

  “Get as many of the kids as you can, leave the rest, anything the Vampires leave, we’ll come back for later. Find Jake and Taylor, and bring them, against their will if you must.” Major Bradshaw ordered to the Viper Task Force team members still remaining.

  The Major shoved the stone back into the money pouch and placed it into his right Jacket pocket, running back into the truck where the driver was waiting, before driving down the road, until they reached a small landing pad where the helicopter was waiting. Several of the gargoyles caught up with the Major, gliding through the air, with Jake alongside, drifting over the cool breeze.

  He swooped up under the helicopter, catching the ledge while it was taking off. He pulled his body up, into the open door, and stood beside the Major, gracefully and nonthreatening.

  “You need me?” Jake reported.

  “Yes, but where is your friend?” The Major coolly asked glancing down on the ground. “Just in time,” he mumbled under his breath, noticing a large white cloud of snow, billowing up from the gate of the facility. A red trail of blood, soaking into the snow, remained as the deadly assault flew past the first two guards.

  “I told her to wait. Why, are we leaving so suddenly?” Jake asked, facing towards the facility, looking out over the edge of the helicopter for any sign of Taylor. “Oh, there she is,” he pointed to a girl, running just past some buildings only stories away. She stopped, shielding her eyes while looking up, with her silky hair whisking around in the icy breeze, Jake could see her mouth something, but couldn’t make it out over the helicopter roar. The helicopter hovered over the ground momentarily as the pilot turned his head back, awaiting orders from Major Bradshaw.

  “Jake,” Taylor yelled louder, her voice barely breaking over the loud roaring wind and the helicopter blades. He turned facing Taylor, trying to shout in return.

  As he was facing her, listening to her shouts, Major Bradshaw pulled out a long hunting knife with a serrated edge, and carefully placed himself in a position, to effortlessly run it into Jake’s heart.

  “No. . . Jake. . . watch out,” she screamed so forcibly, with her arms outstretched, as if to send a bolt of lightning through the Major, but before the Major could stab Jake, Taylor was planted into the ground.

  In a matter of seconds the earth had reached up from the ground, wrapped its warm gloves of soil and roots tightly around Taylor’s legs and braced her firmly, like an ageless ancient tree. The snow in front of her swirled into a ball of powerful electricity, spinning swiftly around like a small hurricane, each flake bumping int
o the other’s creating a yellow and white vortex of snow, sparking erratically. And then finally, from what looked like the ground, a beam of energy shot up through her rooted legs, and out from her outstretched arms, pulling with it the electrifying ball of snow, launching directly at Major Bradshaw.

  “No,” Jake screamed, and without hesitation pushed the Major over bracing himself, as a shield, unknowing that the Major was about to kill him. There was a sudden flash, as the deadly burst of energy enveloped Jake’s white gargoyle body, and then it began to fade away, as did the very breath of life that wisped out of his motionless body.

  Jake wobbled from the ledge of the helicopter, without any visible sign of damage to his body, turned his empty eyes towards Taylor’s, and then fell stiffly, like a statue, down to the ground, where the only sound made, was the echoed thud of his body hitting the snow.

  “Jake. . .” Taylor screamed, racing over to his body, lying dead in the snow.

  The white leather of his gargoyle body began to change back into the light tan skin and curly golden brown hair of her oldest best friend. She crouched down beside him, wrapping her arms around his chest and pulling him in close to her. “What did I do,” the words drowned her head, as fear and sorrow and overwhelming tears of sadness began pouring down her face.

  “No . . . Jake . . . not you too,” she sobbed and sobbed, weakly slumped in the freezing snow, completely unaware of anything around her, tightly holding onto her best friend’s dead body “Not you too.”

  The helicopter noise dwindled away as the helicopter disappeared into the distance. Screams and shouting followed by random rifle shots which began to fill the air, as Kam and his followers sped through the camp finding each and every guard, scientist, and worker left on the base.

  A man ran past the helicopter pad where Taylor sat, holding Jake’s body, quickly followed by an ivory ghost-like figure, gliding across the snow swiftly, after him. Just on the other side of the pad, did the Vampire catch up with the security guard, and with one long practiced movement; he split the air in half with his Katana and left two symmetrical slices of man, falling in opposite directions, onto the snow. He looked up from his dark embroidered cloak, after cleansing his sword in the snow and gave a small nod of respect to Taylor holding the body, and then glided off to rejoin the others in their deathly slaughter.