Part 29: Between Heaven And Hell
In A Corner Pocket Of Heaven
It was Light.
Not, 'there was light', no, for that did not come anywhere close to describing it. It was Light---and brilliantly so: a comforting presence resplendent with flashes of rainbow prisms within that sparkled with an air of Being.
Daylight was an incredibly poor substitute for this.
I'm home, Monica thought contentedly. I'm home with the Father.
Safe from the ills of Earth.
It was such a nice feeling to be blanketed in His caring love, hearing the music of the Heavenly Choir continuously singing His praises in the background, the soothing nearly drowning out the soft whimpers at her feet.
Monica cracked open her eyes.
Soft whimpers at her feet?
Looking down, Monica gave a startled cry at the sight of not one but---two!---Nicholas de Brabants huddled beside her; one was very mortal in appearance, but the other's visage held somewhat more... feral... with its elongated fangs and golden eyes. Not to mention wearing homespun clothes that looked like they'd been made for a Medieval re-enactment.
They were clinging to each other, the former rocking and rubbing the back of the latter who now had his face half buried against the gray shirt, shaking like a leaf. In contrast the 'civilized' version was casting quick glances of wonder about him even as he tried to comfort his moaning twin.
"What happened to you?" Monica asked in utter bewilderment. Never mind that De Brabant seemed to have cloned himself---what was a vampire doing in Heaven!
The stormy blue eyes raised to consider her shocked face looked just as confused.
"I... don't know. You're supposed to be the enlightened angel," Nicholas lamely joked in reply, "I'm just the hapless semi-immortal." As far as De Brabant was concerned, there was a far more pertinent question to be answered. Pointing out the amber glow that surrounded her, then asked in naked awe, "Where are we?"
"Near the Presence of God." Monica answered as if that was obvious. Couldn't he feel the wash of his Love? It was almost as strong as it was within the Presence itself: akin in the mortal world to standing in the inner Temple as opposed to being actually within the Holy of Holies. But no, if anything his expression became even more bewildered, the cobalt eyes turning veiled with apprehension.
"God?"
Nicholas felt his breathing quicken. Was this his time of Judgment then? Would he be thrown to Limbo or consigned to the Fire? If this was Heaven then where were all the other angels and the saints to bear witness of his condemnation? Maybe there was some sort of queue to be cast into the Fire and he had to wait his turn?
Instead of answering, Monica gestured at the one who was making the whimpering noises. "Who is that?"
Distracted by thoughts of his imminent demise, Nicholas unconsciously tightened his grip on his doppelgänger in agitation. Sensing the other's nervousness, his twin gripped back just as hard. It was a moment before the knight realized she'd asked him a question. He gave her a shamefaced smile as he stuttered out, "Uh... he's me. My Vampire."
"Your... vampire?" the angel asked, now feeling just as confused as the Brabantian. guy was a vampire. Therefore, how could he have a vampire?
Nicholas shrugged. He wasn't sure that he understood it himself, but had come to the conclusion that it was much easier to just accept that he was two separate entities and let it go at that. "Yeah... I dreamed of meeting it---him---like this not long ago." He glanced around at the beautiful whiteness that was somehow more, frowning with the contrasting sentiments of disappointment and not a little relief. "Which means that this is just another dream I suppose."
Monica didn't understand him. This was Heaven---couldn't he feel it---the waves of energy? This was so much more real than anything on Earth. Well, it was a bit more vacant and quiet than usual, but then the angel reasoned the Father must have wanted to give them someplace more quiet in which to talk.
"Do you wish it to be?"
Nicholas considered the one he was holding for awhile before answering, "I don't know. It's so amazing here: the music, the light. It feels good and wholesome. I'd gladly stay forever... except... that can't be, can it? Andrew says I'm forgiven---but that doesn't mean I'm accepted." He indicated the one holding him in a death grip. Monica could see that where the knight had calmed down, his vampire had not. "And it's scaring him to be here."
"You mean your vampire half?" Monica looked uneasily at his 'twin', deciding to ignore his question for now until the Father gave her direction or answered it Himself.
She studied the hyperventilating Vampire from where she stood; the 'wild child' mirror of De Brabant did not seem so terrible a monster just now as he had before. But she wasn't really comfortable with the idea of feeling sympathy for an unrepentant killer of humans which she knew it must be. Her being cried for the hurts of humans. This creature was part of what hurt them.
"Mmhmm..." Nicholas murmured, enjoying the music of the angels for another moment before he explained, "The Vampire is nocturnal for a reason. The nucleotide---the main component in its own blood makeup---is highly agitated by certain wave lengths in the sun's rays. When the two meet, friction is created causing the blood to boil and then burst into flames. Or, at least, that's how Dr. Lambert once explained it to me as the 'scientific' theory." His smile turned rueful. "All I knew after waking up that night in 1228 was that suddenly being hit with sunlight was pure agony."
"Yes, but," Monica knelt down with them as her inborn empathic nature warred with her less charitable impulses. She really couldn't stand to see another hurting; not even this... predator. "It isn't burning up now. Is it in pain?" She wished it would stop whimpering like that.
De Brabant closed his eyes for a moment as if tuning out the heavenly choir in or to listen to some inner voice. He answered with a puzzled frown. "No…no, not exactly; this light is not damaging---and I can't figure out why its not, but its rather blinding to a being whose sight was designed for the darkness of night----a lot more brilliant than he's used to. You see, Lady Angel, for centuries, the only illumination we had come from the heavens and from fire. Electricity and the light bulb are fairly new inventions. To me, their widespread use seems to have started just yesterday, and fluorescent bulbs and halogen lights...?" His voice broke into a woeful chuckle. "Sometimes I still get a panicky feeling from him when entering a room. He thinks its daylight and the fact that he's not burning only adds to his fear and confusion."
Opening his eyes, Nicholas caught Monica with her hand hovering uncertainly just inches above the Vampire's head.
"Go ahead and touch him, Lady Angel, if you wish. He won't bite except in self-defense or hunger---which thanks to you has faded since we arrived---and you are not a threat." Blue eyes glistened with emotion. "You helped me."
Monica almost snatched her hand away---she had not even realized what she had been about to do before he had spoken. But Nicholas's reassurances and gratitude seemed genuine enough.
Hesitantly, Monica let her fingers brush against the golden hair. It felt very silky. When the being didn't turn and attack her, she grew bolder and turned the touch into actual strokes, smoothing the rampant mass of wavy curls. In response the heart-rending whimpering morphed into a pleasant rumbling similar to that of a contented lion. Fingers clutching onto the mortal-like Nicholas eased their death grip as the Vampire relaxed under their combined caresses.
"Why... it's like big cat," Monica giggled, and then let out a frightened yelp when golden orbs and white fangs suddenly loomed before her. She hadn't even seen it move to twist around and face her---it had changed position so quickly!
"Brabant!" she squealed as the Vampire's mouth opened wider, fearing she was about to be bitten despite what Nicholas had said.
"It's okay---" she heard the 'human' say just before a cold tongue licked her cheek. Then the face was gone as Nicholas pulled the Vampire back and began roughly rubbing its chest and belly until it turned its full attention on him. The distraction worked; it happily switched the use of its moist appendage to working on its host's exposed skin.
"He didn't mean to scare you... he just realized that you're the giver of our last meal," Nicholas explained with an expression that seemed stuck between apologetic and laughing. "I guess you smell different now than you did before or he would have recognized you instantly. Congratulations... you've just become part of our territory." The look of apology won out as he saw her face fall into dismay. "I hope you don't mind, Lady Angel---because frankly, he becomes rather fixated on things like that. Would you like me to move farther away? I'll leave you alone entirely if you wish..." Nicholas looked about again as he started to get up, "though I fear I don't know my way around here."
Now Monica felt guilty. He had behaved like a gentleman and she..? She was being rude.
Taking his wrist she urged De Brabant to sit back down.
"No---don't go. And please call me Monica."
"Thank you, I will," he smiled---glad that he was allowed to stay by the only familiar part of this strange dream if that was what it was---"if you will call me Nicholas or Nick. We're hardly strangers now, are we? I mean, after you've shared..." blushing a little, he ducked his head. Why did he have to go remind her of that? She probably wanted to forget that he had bitten her.
"Um, alright," Monica said, then giggled as the whole ridiculousness of the situation struck her. She had just befriended a charmingly shy 800-year old medieval knight who was metaphysically joined with an oversized humanoid cat---which had just proclaimed her as part of its personal 'stuff'. What would Tess say to that? And Andrew---? Oh, that Angel of Death was not going to stop teasing her about this for a long time once he found out. She could already picture the twinkle in his eyes as he got started on her. Dear Andrew. Father, how she missed their working together. Maybe their next assignment would not require that they work so much in separate locations.
"Well, Nick, I suppose I can live with being considered 'territory' just as long as your other half doesn't designate me as a scratching post."
The musical giggles that sprung from the human and case working angel blended with the singing of the Heavenly Choir.
And the Father smiled.
While back on Earth...
"Monica!" Andrew gasped as he saw her go limp with de Brabant's fangs still fixed to her throat.
No, Andrew. Do not go to her now. Pay attention to your surroundings.
But, Father, Andrew silently cried within, not wanting to disobey, yet needing to help his friend. She's hurt!
Peace, my Angel---she is with Me.
Andrew wanted to ask more, but the animated oil slick that was the true form of 'Joran' was starting to rise upwards and he could feel the vampires around him beginning to panic as it reached a height of fifteen feet, its arms and head now taking a vaguely manlike form as they separated from the pillar-like 'torso'.
"Mother of All..." Janette voiced for the whole, horror-struck group. "What is that!"
In the Spiritual
The Vampire stiffened. Wrenching itself from its host's touch as he talked with the claimed female, it leapt up, head cocked to listen. A deep growl issued from its throat.
Threat! Not here...but somewhere..
Rumbling, he shook his head in frustration. The threat was Somewhere-Not-Here where the pack was in dire jeopardy.
"What's wrong?" Monica asked, nervously recoiling from the fearsome visage insistently nudging her and Nicholas closer together as it circled around them, "Why is he angry?"
Taking a second to commune with his symbiotic 'other half', the knight looked troubled as he whispered, "I'm in danger."
"Not here," Monica assured him.
"No," he agreed. "Not here. It's coming from outside of where we are." A startled expression crossed the Crusader's face, but when it had passed, he looked a little frightened, yet resolved. "Monica... I don't understand how I know... but I have to go back now.. I have to face J'ranor. Please pray for m---?"
Monica suddenly found herself standing alone.
"Father!" she called out in alarm.
Hush, Monica. All is well.
"But, he's gone to face that archdemon!" His angel fretted. "How can he battle that thing alone by himself?"
The Father chuckled at her with affection.
But, my precious child, thanks to your act of compassion Nicholas will not BE alone.
Huh?
Monica listened as the Father explained to her the vital role she had unwittingly taken when she had offered herself to the Vampire.
On Earth
"That's J'ranor. An archdemon of Satan's," Andrew explained, his throat feeling dry. He moved to stand over de Brabant who was now sitting up and blinking rather vacantly at Monica's unmoving form as if he was wondering how she had happened to come into his lap. Behind him, the Angel of Death could feel the presence of the Warrior Angels backing up his position.
"Don't touch him, J'ranor!" Andrew warned the towering demon. "You can't have him!"
The sibilant voice of the demon laughed as the dark mass vibrated with evil mirth.
"SSSILY ANGEL... YOU STILL THINK YOU AND YOUR KIND CAN SSSTOP ME."
"Nicholas will stop you."
The harsh laughter boomed like thunder.
"SIR NICHOLAS DE BRABANT ISS MY NEW SSSERVANT! HE HASSS CHOSSSEN TO MURDER AGAIN. CAN YOU SSSENSSE HISSS SSSTRENGTH, ANDREW? HUMAN BLOOD IS RESSTORING HISSS BODY. ONE HUMAN WOMAN'SSS LIFE HAS RESTORED THE VAMPIRE'S VIGOR. CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT A POWER WILL ARISSSE AFTER IT HASSS GLUTTED ON MORE? BY HIS OWN CHOICE DE BRANT HASSS REJECTED YOUR GOD A SECOND TIME. AND NOW HE BELONGSSS TO ME."
J'ranor's arm elongated into a whip-like tendril which he used to wrap around the strangely complacent De Brabant's waist. The tendril then rapidly shortened in length, drawing the knight with it until he was being held snug against the dark mass.
"SSSEEE, ANGEL?" the demon chuckled, sending the tip of the tendril around to ruffle the curled hair and caress the vampire's neck. HE NO LONGER RECOILS FROM MY TOUCH. NICHOLAS DE BRABANT HAS BECOME ONE WITH THE DARKNESS. NOW HE WILL BECOME ONE WITH MEEE."
"Nicholas!" Lacroix cried. "Fight it, mon fils!"
Another tendril lashed out, sending the Elder crashing back into the others.
"BE QUIET, LUCIUS---WE WILL GET BACK TO YOU SOON ENOUGH."
J'ranor lifted Nicholas to 'eye level'.
"I SSSEE YOU ARE NOT CONCERNED ABOUT LUCIUSSS WELFARE, NICHOLASSS. PERHAPSSS YOU REALIZE HE WASSS NEVER WORTHY OF YOUR FEALTY. NOT LIKE ME. A FULFILLING MEAL YOUR FORMER MASSSTER WILL MAKE, WON'T HE MY YOUNG FRIEND?" J'ranor cooed to the vampire it held.
"BUT BEFORE YOUR FEAST I WILL ALLOW YOU TO UNLEASSSH UPON HIM A THOUSSSAND FOLD OF THE TORTURESSS HE VISSSITED ON YOU BEFORE YOU DRAIN HIM TO A DRIED-OUT HUSSSK. YOU'LL LIKE THAT ONCE I LET THE BEASSST WITHIN YOU FREELY RELISSSH ITS TRUE NATURE. ITSSS BEEN TOO LONG TIME, VAMPIRE, HASSSN'T IT----SINCE YOU LET THOSSSE ANNOYING MORTAL RESTRAINTSSS BE LAID UPON YOU? AND AFTER THAT EVERY NIGHT AND DAY CHILD WHO EVER LAUGHED AT YOUR DESIRESSS SSSHALL SSSUFFER YOUR REVENGE." J'ranor enthusiastically vowed, neatly side-stepping the fact that he had been disgusted by the knight's desire for humanity as well. "AND JANETTE--- OF COURSE, YOU WANT REVENGE FOR HER BETRAYALSSS TOO?"
De Brabant silently looked down at the vampires in question and the angel below with ruby-colored eyes.
Andrew heard Janette gasp in dismay as the expressionless face of her brother lingered on her. Lacroix looked downright ashen as he remembered the things he had resorted to to try to keep his son in line. Surely Nicholas wasn't truly considering the demon's words? His son wasn't still angry at him. Their past misunderstandings were forgiven! Water under the bridge.
Weren't they?
"Sam..?" Andrew asked, turning questioning eyes to his friend.
His old supervisor looked worried.
"I don't know. It depends on whether he has truly forgiven them or not."
But Nicholas' response to his captor's offers chilled them all.
Wordlessly, the vampire bent his head to give a single lick to the tendril holding him, his half-golden, half-scarlet eyes unwavering from their consideration of the massive 'face' before him as his lips formed into a sly smile.
J'ranor was ecstatic as he took the gesture for that of 'kissing the ring': a medieval form of giving allegiance to a superior.
"YESSS! YESSS, NICHOLASSS! AT LASSST YOU UNDERSSSTAND WHAT OUR JOINING TOGETHER CAN OFFER YOU! AND I PROMISSSE THAT THEIR DEATHSSS SHALL BE ASSS PAINFUL ASSS WE CAN MAKE THEM!"
The oily mass of the demon condensed until the 'head' and 'torso' were the same size as Joran had been, suspended in the air by an ebony column of goo reaching up from the ground. More 'limb's sprouted from the mass to grasp the knight's body in a black network of strands from shoulders down. Nicholas did not protest the tight hug nor the actions of the upper protrusions as they ripped the abused cloth of the poet's shirt to expose his neck even more than it was already. Meanwhile, a simple 'mouth' was forming in the demon's 'face', a large pit, really, but with two long canines jutting downwards from the roof. They quickly hardened to the consistency of granite. Nicholas shuddered as their slightly rough texture was rubbed along the outer surface of his throat.
"YOU LIKE THAT, MY SSSERVANT?" J'ranor chuckled as he scraped under Nicholas other ear, hearing the knight moan aloud. "FEEL THE FIRSSST INKLING OF THE PLEASSSURE I CAN GIVE YOU? AFTER THE BLOODKISSSS...WE SSSHALL BE ASSS ONE ENTITY---DINING ON BOTH WARM AND COLD BLOOD AND RESTING ON OUR ENEMY'S BONES. INSSSEPERABLE AND POWERFUL BEYOND BELIEF!"
The ebony fangs pierced alabaster skin then viciously dug in to tear and tug at the wounds until the vampire's blood squirted out into the hollowed gullet of the demon in a virtual torrent of cold liquid. Eager to complete the transfer, the body of J'ranor unhesitatingly soaked it up in preparation to pour the fused properties back into de Brabant's body where they would be accepted by the Vampire physiology as part of itself: an unholy triune mutation of Human, Vampire, and Demon essences.
But it wasn't.
Too late, J'ranor realized something was wrong. And why. If not how.
...and he shuddered from top to bottom.
"TTTTTRRRRRRIIIIIICCCCCCKKKKKKKEEEEEDDDDDD!" the demon screamed so loudly vampires and human alike were momentarily deafened by the roar.
"TRRIIIICCCKKKEEEEDDD!" J'ranor shrieked again, glaring malevolently at the contingent of angels who were moving forward as he convulsed in agony. He spotted Andrew and cursed, wishing he could tear the Angel of Death apart with just his will. "HOW! YOU DID NOT SSSHARE!"
But the angel looked just as confused until comprehension dawned and he grinned like a Chesire cat. Between all his anxiety about his friends and this confrontation, he had completely forgotten. And before he could voice it---the solution to the puzzle---she was there, happily kissing him on the cheek and hugging his arm before turning to J'ranor.
"But I did," Monica modestly informed the ailing demon.
"YOU---YOU WERE AN ANGEL!" J'ranor hissed in horrified realization of his own stupidity. How had he not seen it! The vampire in his grasp had fed from an angel of God! He hadn't even thought to question the frightened mortal's pedigree; she had seemed just a tag-a-long to the kid---and now he was paying for that oversight. The blood he had consumed so greedily---the Light he had unthinkingly taken within---was destroying him as his darkness tried to recoil from it's presence---and could not.
But he would not go alone!
He would NOT go alone!
"ATTACK AND DESTROY!"
De Brabant screamed as the wracked form of J'ranor tightened around him, threatening to bury him within the oily darkness while simultaneously seeking to shred him to pieces. Dark forms arising from the lake rose up shrieking into the air, shadow swords held at the ready.
At the same time the Warrior Angels rose up to meet them, their own swords of Light flashing as they blocked the dark angels' path to the vampires.
"DEMONS," the leading Warrior thundered at the foul spirits, "YOU ARE GUILTY OF BREAKING THE COVENANT BETWEEN JEHOVAH AND CAIN! WILL YOU ACCEPT THE PRICE!
Not surprisingly the demons answered that with their swords. The sounds and sights of battle quickly filled the air.
Back on the ground, the Elder of Toronto barely acknowledged the fighting above him as he launched himself into the air. "Nicholas!" Lacroix grabbed hold of his son's arms---even resorting to biting at the wiry, cable-like strands cutting into his child, but was unable to pull him from the contracting web work that was fast becoming even slicker with de Brabant's blood. Frantic, he flew back down to the only 'angel' not already preoccupied and grabbed him by the coat back, unmindful of the blistering burns such contact was creating on his hands. Locking eyes with Adam he pleaded, "Help him. I'll do anything you request of me. But in the name of the God you serve---save my son!"
"Okay, sure man.. um..I mean... Can you get me up to---whOAAH!"
Adam took a deep breath to steady his nerves as he suddenly found himself soaring towards what remained of J'ranor courtesy of the vampire holding onto the back of his jacket.
The archdemon was really in a bad way---practically disintegrating before their eyes, but out of what must have been pure vindictiveness had kept the strands around the knight from decaying at the same rate as the rest of him. At this rate, by the time the Light was through, J'ranor would not be the only one rendered into multiple particles!
"Can you keep me airborne for a minute, Lucius?" Adam asked.
"Yes," the Ancient hissed painfully,but adding, "As long as I still have hands to do so."
Adam nodded his understanding as he laid his own palms on the ebony strands and began to pray. The fact that the webbing was now so deeply embedded in De Brabant that he couldn't touch them without touching the other vampire as well just couldn't be helped, but he hoped that Nicholas was now immune to the touch of Light---hadn't he carried Monica's blood within himself? Contact made---and his own skin burning at the awful touch with J'ranor's darkness---the Angel of Death broke into prayer. Both the demon and Lacroix recoiled from him as the words left his mouth, but fortunately, the Ancient recovered before they had fallen more than a few inches.
"Watch it, man!" Sam yelped as he was caught from his fall.
"Keep going!" the Elder hissed back at him.
Again Adam prayed and this time managed to maintain contact. Slowly the strands broke up as the power of God's Word unraveled them further, until Nicholas fell backwards. Adam caught him in his arms. Instantly, they were dragged backwards through the air as Lacroix flew them over to relative safety on the other side of the island; away far the fleeing dark angels and pursuing Warriors, away from the stinking mass of steaming oil that had once comprised an archdemon.
Lacroix hurriedly inspected his child as the rest of the non-Warrior angels gathered around, confused and shell-shocked vampires following in their wake while giving them plenty of room.
Except for Aristotle and Janette: the first having had some advanced warning of what was coming, and Janette too anxious to reach her sibling's side to worry about just who and what these alien beings had to do with her family.
The pretty vampiress kissed her brother's forehead---about the only part of him that did not look as if had come against repeated strikes with a metal-tipped cat-o'-nine-tails.
"Oh, Nichola, I knew you would not betray us."
Giving her a tired pat on the hand, Nicholas eye's settled on Andrew who was standing ramrod straight.
He had done his duty. Suffered the horror of J'ranor's touch as he'd play acted the biggest role of his life. Erika, the vampiress he had once worked with on the stage, would have been proud of his performance---she had loved tragic melodrama. And it wasn't even over yet.
"Are you going to escort me to my new home, Andrew?" he asked the Angel of Death in a raspy voice.
"What?" Monica gasped turning to look at his friend, "Andrew!" Surely, De Brabant was not asking..?
"Nicholas.. mon fils," Lacroix said as he rested the knight's head in his lap, "the fight is over---you've won, my son. Now, you're going home with Janette and myself to rest and recover amongst friends as befits a conquering soldier."
"No, father..." Nicholas gently objected to Lacroix's words.
"Nonsense. I will carry you back myself."
"You don't understand... I'm dying."