Bottom |
Part 20
The witch was beautiful and
she filled Nick's senses. The human part of him was just enough
to instil real human desire, but he had no sense of the morality
which would have prevented what happened next. With untamed
demonic force he reached out and took what he wanted.
Their joining was not gentle,
as demon met nymph, but it fullfilled it's purpose. As it came
to it's completeion, Holland screamed for the third time that
day, as a new creature was born. A bright light burst from her
body, just above her navel and it blinded Nick.
As the power left her she slowly
relaxed back onto the bed, and then she finally opened her green
eyes and looked up at her lover. Holland reached up and touched
his face that was slowly forming into a horrified expression.
Then she smiled and quite gracefully passed out. The ex-SEAL
had just enough time to push himself off her onto the bed, glance
over at what appeared to be a shapeless blob of white and blue
light, before his body also decided it had had quite enough
and shut down.
Something came back at Philip
through his contact with the sigil. He had lost any sense of
time, or reality soon after Jas had joined him. His eyes were
open, but they didn't see, and his mind had been acting on pure
instinct for quite some time. There was what would have been
a blinding flash, if he'd noticed it, and a force that bodily
threw him backwards, along with his lover. The pair landed in
an untidy pile at the foot of the stairs, neither stirring from
grateful blackness.
In the library there was a
tense waiting game going on. They had all heard the scream,
and they all expected something to happen. The problem was it
had been a good few minutes and there were no signs that anything
had broken free from anywhere. This was making James nervous,
and his monologue had degenerated into a fitful silence. Rachel
was beginning to wish that hell would turn up and save them
all the anxiety, when there was yet another scream, even more
piercing than the first. Their captor saw this as the final
victory, and his attention was thankfully drawn away from his
victims. His waiting was over when the doorway filled with a
subdued bluish glow.
Derek and the psychiatrist
looked at each other in confusion, it was definitely not what
they expected of a demon. It was tall, over six feet, and appeared
to be broad to go with it. There was, however, an air about
it which defied anyone to define it's sex. It was large like
a man, but somehow there was a feminine curve to it's body,
and yet no definite shapes to confirm the gender. It glowed
a gentle blue, and yet it looked on the world with deep black
slits. At last, Rachel began to hope.
James on the other hand did
not seem to quite know what to do. He sharp mind had come to
the conclusion that something had definitely gone wrong, but
he had no rationale to cope with this, especially when the creature
turned and looked at him. He fired wildly, suddenly afraid and
it just stood there. Then, slowly it walked towards him.
The terror was written all
over his body, and yet the insane witch could not move. Rachel
just watched as the entity gently reached out and put it's arms
around the voiceless man. It was almost a loving embrace and
James looked up into that dark gaze, relaxing into the hold
like a lost child. Slowly a look of realisation seemed to dawn
on his features and he laid his head on the creature's shoulder.
Without a sound he dissolved, almost as if he'd never existed
before.
All the psychiatrist could
do was let out a disbelieving gasp, and hold tightly to the
weakening grip of Derek's hand. Maybe they were saved, but she
could not push aside the terror as the entity turned towards
them both. Tears appeared in her eyes once again, and she could
say nothing as the beautiful being walked towards them. Was
this just some huge joke, that such grace could house evil.
There was no understanding the black depths of it's eyes, and
it's facelessness gave it an alien, terrifying quality.
Derek for his part gazed on
it with calm, half closed eyes. The precept was beyond wondering
what it was, or how this would end, his fevered mind was just
captivated by it's beauty. The saviour had come too late, he
was dying, and he knew it.
A trembling took hold of Rachel's
body as the entity reached out to her, but all it did was brush
away one of her tears. It crouched down slowly, always looking
at her face, turning it's head from one side to the other, watching
her. She didn't know what to do faced with such a being. Eventually
it turned it's seemingly all seeing eyes away from her and down
towards Derek, who was still gazing, captivated by an angel.
It put one of it's hands on his cheek, and remained frozen like
that for a moment. Rachel would have said that something was
passing between the two, but she could not say what. Then the
hand moved downwards and calmly removed her hand where it was
still clamped to the Precept's side. It placed it's own fingers
over the wound and they glowed brighter for a moment. When it
withdrew it's touch the bullet hole was gone, there was not
even the slightest trace of it left at all.
Derek looked up at the being
with a much stronger gaze. He could not remember what he had
seen in those dark depths, but he would remember that face for
ever. It stood with it's habitual elegance, stepped away from
them slightly, and vanished. Rachel couldn't help it, she began
to cry uncontrollably as the man she loved slowly sat up.
The boathouse was quiet except
for the loud breathing of two people trying to be silent, but
failing because they were so afraid. Kat cried silently in Alex's
arms where they huddled behind a door. They had run for the
launch, but it was floating over one hundred yards out to see.
Someone had set it adrift and there was no other way off the
island except the helicopter. Without Nick, the bird was useless,
and the fugitives had hidden themselves as best they could.
The screams from the house had been loud enough to reach them
through the many open windows, and they could only imagine what
was going on inside.
Alex Moreau was not a woman
who could ever be accused of cowardice, but she could not bring
herself to try anything else. She and Kat were safe where they
were and the future would bring whatever it saw fit. They would
stay here until something came for them, or help arrived, either
way, she had made up her mind they were not going anywhere.
Even the day was overcast as the sun hid herself from the terrible
work below. For all Alex knew everyone inside was dead, all
her friends, her surrogate family. Dreadful thoughts of macabre
deaths and lonely ends filled her mind. Just the atmosphere
of the island was enough to send her almost mad. Then suddenly,
as if someone had just lifted a veil, the sun came out and the
oppression left her. It was like a light entering a darkened
room, and easing the fear of a frightened child, like a knight
in shining armour slaying the dragon and rescuing the damsel.
Kat felt it as well, because
her silent sobs stopped almost instantly, and her head turned
from where it was buried in Alex's shoulder. They glanced at
each other as if they both wanted reassurance, and then slowly,
of one accord, they crawled out of their hiding place. The house
stood as they had left it, no fire, no broken windows, nothing
to indicate that Armageddon had occurred. A figure appeared
on the doorstep, and there was no holding Kat.
"Mom!" she cried,
and ran towards Rachel as if her life depended upon it.
Alex just stood in the doorway
of the boathouse, unable to believe it as she saw Derek's tall
frame standing behind the psychiatrist. They were looking at
the world, as amazed as she to still be alive. Slowly she began
to walk towards them, gradually speeding up as she began to
comprehend that they had survived. Soon she was running faster
than Kat and made it to the group just behind the girl.
When they found Philip he had
managed to turn himself onto his front and he was trying to
stand up, barely making it as far as his knees. He mumbled something
about the sigil when Derek went to help him, but he was not
even remotely coherent enough to be understood. The Precept
himself, quite surprisingly, had never felt better in his life,
and he had no problem helping his friend up the stairs as Rachel
and Alex each took one of Jasmine's arms.
They'd soon discovered that
every phone, including all the mobiles were out of action. The
main lines were down for some unfathomable reason, and every
battery on the island was flat, there was no way off until the
public ferry arrived. Since it was still only seven o'clock
in the morning, the three conscious adults put there less than
compus mentis colleagues to bed. It didn't take long, and given
the opportunity, Philip was sound asleep in his own bed in seconds.
Alex and Derek, left Rachel to make sure that the young couple
were of sound body, and went to find Nick and Holland.
The pair of psychics went from
room to room systematically, glancing inside and then moving
on to the next. It was Alex who first looked into her room and
saw the devastation, at the centre of which lay the two for
whom they were searching. The pair looked like the babes in
the wood, curled together with Alex's top sheet roughly pulled
over them. The searchers looked at each other as they surveyed
the area, and gradually made their way in, stepping over pieces
of what had been the researcher's furniture. She bent down and
picked up one half of Holland's blouse from where it had fallen.
The expression on her face said she didn't quite know what to
make of it.
Derek, meanwhile, had reached
the side of the bed and gazed down at his associate and companion.
There was a bruise beginning to appear on Holland's cheek, where
she had hit the wall, and the scratches on both individuals
could be seen in various places. The pair looked like they'd
been dragged through a very vicious hedge and come off worse.
Nick's arms were wound protectively around his sleeping partner,
and she was snuggled closely to his side, which belied the fact
that there was blood under both sets of fingernails.
"Looks like they had an
interesting encounter," was Alex's comment as she joined
her mentor next to the bed.
"Interesting *and* violent,"
Derek pointed out. "It may be better if they weren't both
still here when they regain their senses."
His companion had to admit
that the current scene could make for an awkward situation when
the heat of battle had completely worn off.
"Well if we can get Nick
back to his own room, Holland can stay here, and I'll try to
move some of this mess so it doesn't look quite such chaos,"
she suggested helpfully.
Neither one was expecting much
sense out of their friends as Derek accepted the plan of action,
but it was worth a try. The Precept gently shook his young colleague
by the shoulder.
"Nick," he said quietly,
"time to move."
At first the only response
visible was the ex-SEAL shifting his shoulder out of the grip.
He was in no real state to wake up, so his superior tried again.
"Nick," he started,
"you can't sleep here."
With a slightly more insistent
shake there was finally some indication of consciousness. The
young man turned his head slightly and after a few seconds actually
opened his eyes. How much of what he saw he comprehended seemed
to be very little, but at least he was half sentient.
"We have to get you to
your own bed," Derek continued to talk, hoping that some
of his words would get through.
He attempted to pry Nick's
hand from the grip it maintained on Holland's arm, and he received
a very disgruntled noise for his trouble.
"She'll be fine,"
the soothing tones of Alex's voice seemed to have some effect
and the young man slowly allowed himself to be extracted from
the bed.
There wasn't much doubt as
to what had been going on between the couple, but the compus
mentis Legacy members chose not to trouble themselves with that
just yet. What was important was to make sure their friends
were safe and comfortable. Derek half walked, half carried Nick
to his room whilst Alex saw to Holland. The young woman seemed
to be about as unhappy to have lost her companion as he had
been to leave, but she did not wake for more than a second.
It was as the Legacy operative was gentle moving the young witch
fully under the covers that she discovered the beer bottle bottom,
sized mark just above her navel. It was pale, only just below
Holland's normal skin tone, and it was an exact copy of the
sigil they had tried so hard to understand. The woman covered
her charge quickly and then went to find Derek.
The Precept had just removed
Nick's shoes and decided that he'd never be able to get the
jeans off, when Alex walked in.
"Holland's sound asleep
again," she said evenly, and went to help her superior
move their friend into his own bed. "Um, I found something
when I covered her up."
It was as Derek removed what
was left of the ex-SEAL's shirt that the woman stopped talking.
There, just to the right of Nick's chest flanked by the pale
scars caused by his previous brush with death, was the exact
same mark she had found on the witch.
"Something like that,"
Derek concluded as he saw the look on his companion's face.
She just nodded and continued
to manoeuvre her friend under the covers. The ex-SEAL had long
since abandoned himself to oblivion, and his colleagues finished
what they were doing in silence.
End
of Part 20
