"I can do this, I can make it, I can help them." Alex kept repeating that
same mantra over and over again, trying to draw strength from it. Sloan
wasn't able to help her, he was dealing with the possible downfall off the
Boston and maybe even the Manchester house. The dark side knew something
was going on and took that advantage, attacking several Legacy houses all
over the world.
And with that, Alex was on her own, she had to safe her team and the rest
of the world from the threat that was coming closer and closer. And now she
was searching for a place that would be perfect to use for summoning up
Satan, a place that would be the best one to use to hide enough followers
without raising questions.
She glanced to the other table, one without a computer, one with weapons on
it, pistols, guns, crossbows. She shuddered, knowing she had to take one
with her, the possibility that she might even had to shoot her own friend
to save the world from downfall. Could she do that? Did she had the guts to
do that? She had no choice, she had no help, she was all alone. Despair was
growing deep within her.
Nick wanted to stand up, to smack that smug look of the face of the man he had considered a friend for a long time, but didn't. He could be possessed, he could be under some sort of spell or somebody was using his form, to play mind games with the former Seal. So he stayed silent, looking into the brown eyes, that used to be warm, but now had a cold steel glare, not even a little sparkle of life in it. Philip looked back into those hazel, now green from anger, eyes. A smile curved his lips, knowing what Nick was thinking, and that amused him.
"No, I'm not possessed, or cursed or anything like that. I'm just finally being meself, Nick. Not the damned o so friendly priest, who made me wanna puke sometimes. All those years I tried to hide, to wait until it was time."
Nick grunted in disgust at what he was hearing. "So all those years you lied, you just played games. I knew there was something wrong with you."
A soft laugh came from the other man. "Yes you did know, you were fighting me a lot, I should have known back then you were special. But I figured you were just a young, innocent and stubborn boy. And I did love you, you know, as my little brother. That's why Belthasar kept an eye on you. And that's why I found out you were the chosen."
With that Philip eyed his young friend one more time, again whispering something like a sorry and motioned two followers to the cage, giving them the key.
"Prepare him for tonight."
The two large man nodded, making their way to the cage, picking up Nick as if he was nothing more then just a light feather. Nick gave in, knowing he was stupid to fight now, to resist now. He was still shocked that Philip wasn't the person he always thought he was. That the young priest had betrayed them all. Oh, he had used such a great cover, a priest, who would ever think the he could be one of Satan's followers? Nobody would, not even the Legacy. And with that Nick lost all hope he still had. His only hope was lying in a hospital, in a deep coma, probably not even able to open his eyes. The two men carried him to a bath, dropping him in it like some sort of rag doll, stripping away his clothes. Nick winched when the water started seeping in his cast, the perfumed water stinging his still raw wounds. As fast as they had dropped him in, they picked him out as well, drying him with a towel. Nick felt embarrassed standing there naked, but there was nothing he could do about it. One of the man grabbed a linen white cloth, draping it around Nick's small hips, covering him up. This didn't make the young man happy, because he did realised the loincloth was almost the same as the one Jesus wore on his crucifixion. He had seen the large cross, standing in the middle of the cage, ready to bare the wait of a small man, as small as he self was. The realisation hit him, suddenly knowing how he was supposed to die, how Satan would rule the world. As on queue Philip appeared, admiring the young men's appearance.
"You know Nick, you should be honoured, to die like that. To hang on that cross, bleeding, waking the ruler of hell with the red flow of your life juice. They tried it with Jesus, but unfortunately, he wasn't the chosen like they thought he was. He was merely the son of God, a poor man caught in the web of deceive and lies. But you...." He walked closer to Nick, cupping the young man's chin, forcing him to look at his tormentor.
"You're the one, the real deal. You're the one who will die to save us."
With that he ripped of Nick's casts, causing the young man to scream in pain. Philip studied the raw wounds, the blood that slowly dripped from them, the stitches starting to resolve into the thin air.
"It's time!"
Nick was pulled to the cross, dragged closer and closer to the object that would be his death and he screamed, for his life, for the pain and for the fate that was awaiting him, tears burning in his eyes.He said his goodbyes and his prayers.
Nick wanted to stand up, to smack that smug look of the face of the man he had considered a friend for a long time, but didn't. He could be possessed, he could be under some sort of spell or somebody was using his form, to play mind games with the former Seal. So he stayed silent, looking into the brown eyes, that used to be warm, but now had a cold steel glare, not even a little sparkle of life in it. Philip looked back into those hazel, now green from anger, eyes. A smile curved his lips, knowing what Nick was thinking, and that amused him.
"No, I'm not possessed, or cursed or anything like that. I'm just finally being meself, Nick. Not the damned o so friendly priest, who made me wanna puke sometimes. All those years I tried to hide, to wait until it was time."
Nick grunted in disgust at what he was hearing. "So all those years you lied, you just played games. I knew there was something wrong with you."
A soft laugh came from the other man. "Yes you did know, you were fighting me a lot, I should have known back then you were special. But I figured you were just a young, innocent and stubborn boy. And I did love you, you know, as my little brother. That's why Belthasar kept an eye on you. And that's why I found out you were the chosen."
With that Philip eyed his young friend one more time, again whispering something like a sorry and motioned two followers to the cage, giving them the key.
"Prepare him for tonight."
The two large man nodded, making their way to the cage, picking up Nick as if he was nothing more then just a light feather. Nick gave in, knowing he was stupid to fight now, to resist now. He was still shocked that Philip wasn't the person he always thought he was. That the young priest had betrayed them all. Oh, he had used such a great cover, a priest, who would ever think the he could be one of Satan's followers? Nobody would, not even the Legacy. And with that Nick lost all hope he still had. His only hope was lying in a hospital, in a deep coma, probably not even able to open his eyes. The two men carried him to a bath, dropping him in it like some sort of rag doll, stripping away his clothes. Nick winched when the water started seeping in his cast, the perfumed water stinging his still raw wounds. As fast as they had dropped him in, they picked him out as well, drying him with a towel. Nick felt embarrassed standing there naked, but there was nothing he could do about it. One of the man grabbed a linen white cloth, draping it around Nick's small hips, covering him up. This didn't make the young man happy, because he did realised the loincloth was almost the same as the one Jesus wore on his crucifixion. He had seen the large cross, standing in the middle of the cage, ready to bare the wait of a small man, as small as he self was. The realisation hit him, suddenly knowing how he was supposed to die, how Satan would rule the world. As on queue Philip appeared, admiring the young men's appearance.
"You know Nick, you should be honoured, to die like that. To hang on that cross, bleeding, waking the ruler of hell with the red flow of your life juice. They tried it with Jesus, but unfortunately, he wasn't the chosen like they thought he was. He was merely the son of God, a poor man caught in the web of deceive and lies. But you...." He walked closer to Nick, cupping the young man's chin, forcing him to look at his tormentor.
"You're the one, the real deal. You're the one who will die to save us."
With that he ripped of Nick's casts, causing the young man to scream in pain. Philip studied the raw wounds, the blood that slowly dripped from them, the stitches starting to resolve into the thin air.
"It's time!"
Nick was pulled to the cross, dragged closer and closer to the object that would be his death and he screamed, for his life, for the pain and for the fate that was awaiting him, tears burning in his eyes.He said his goodbyes and his prayers.