Dear Readers:
Wow! Thank you all so much for your support, I had no idea that this story would be something that people would honestly want to read (even though, I am sure, the plot struck your fancy!) Anyway, I would now appreciate that the votes come in! Tell me why certain any leader should win! Any and all details would be greatly appreciated, because I have no idea on who will win. Please vary your favorites (understandably Micah and Isaac are the favorites so far on this site) and explain in as much detail as you wish. I want as much audience participation as possible.
I enjoy writing the long chapters, so excuse me if I do not update very often. I wish I could type all throughout the night; however, school stops me from doing so. Oh well, I guess an education is important.
I hope that you will enjoy the fact that in this chapter there is some creative myth. This hopefully gives you a perspective of the origins of He Who Walks Behind the Rows.
Sorry to those who saw the requirements for good/bad guy and wanted to be in it. With about 30 main characters and each leader now having the recommended demon helpers, I have decided to close off any more requests. Thank you for those who gave me ideas and allowed me to use your character. In due time you will see your character truly come to life.
Again, I thank you all for your time and loyalty. Enjoy the next chapter in this thrilling horror.
Sincerely yours: Quiet thief
PS: Please review; I want to know if this is getting any better and being the author, I have biased opinions. * giggle *
He watched her, felt her, and wished that she be near. Every move she made was a move closer to him. And how he wished that the damn rites would be over with soon so he could return to her arms and feel her soft touch once more. Oh how, he wished that this damn ritual would be over. After all, it was pretty much guaranteed that he would be the winner, but the only thing he wanted to win was her heart once again. He watched with dark eyes as she gracefully move past the annoying people of her life, pushing that air of elegance around to the point where it drove him dizzy. Her eyes looked so lost and he was so lost without her. The hours went by so slowly that it seemed like God was preventing him from ever returning; He Who Walks Behind the Rows already gave him a long conversation about his lust for her, along with a few bruises. She abandoned US and you want to return to her! That little bitch cost ME years of planning! Samuel will come into this world years late, because of what she did! Influencing Malachi to turn away from ME and Isaac. I forbid you to even go near her when you return! UNDERSTAND! MY WORD IS LAW AND IF YOU BREAK THE LAW, SHE DIES IN YOUR SIGHT!
He rubbed his arm, a painful reminder of what raising the wrath of He Who Walks Behind the Rows can do. Even his brother was not that harsh. But through the pain, he remembered her, and by remembering her the pain diminished. "One day," he spoke to the laughing, dancing shadows on the wall. "One day, I shall return, and we will be together, whether or not it was prophesied." He could feel her heart beating and her smell her sweet scent, fresh rain. "I shall make my own destiny. And it shall be with her."
Suddenly, another voice appeared. "You heard what the Master said. Stay away from her. And stop showing off your power. Pride is a destructful trait." He knew whom the voce belonged to and cringed at the sound of it. "Listen to me…I know that love is something none of us can ever have, but have you ever wondered why we are not to share in that feeling? It will make us weak. It is already making you weak…anyone of us could kill you again right now, because you are so blinded by your own needs and desires. What can she do for you? Bear you a child, give you warmth, feed you with tempting and sacrilegious food such as exotic fruit? She will kill you with her ways. She will destroy all that we have worked so hard to achieve and He will not be happy." The voice continued babbling other reasonable advice, but it was all lost. "Just stay away from her...stay far, far, far away from her. Or else, I will personally make sure that you are the first to die. This I promise."
"You promise many things. You even promised Him new followers. You failed miserably. You don't make promises. You make poor decisions."
The voice became quiet. Too quiet. The dancing flames surrounding him sounded louder than usual; but the voice had one last thing to say. "When I become free, she'll die. Then you'll die."
Amanaka felt her muscles loosen up again and felt her animal instincts rage through her veins. Ransolo was out for a while and from what she heard, the arena was still in good condition for the fight against Cole, the half-fox, and Kari, the half-hawk, which she fortunately, had, tickets for. Her apartment looked better since she had time to clean it; the book case held journals of her conquests, the histories of the demon cultures, and books on her newest obsession, ancient Amazonian fighting. The coffee table was newly polished and the medium sized TV finally gained new channels that she could afford. Unfortunately she had no time to shop for food while recovering from the fight with the half-wolf and now her blood supply was out. Finding it in the outside world was not going to be easy, since the arrival of Admatha, top demon. She had scared away most of the humans from venturing down into the dark places of their cities and now only the few and stupid were snatched. It was not enough and most of the other demons and half demons were becoming restless. Mutiny was spreading; but Admatha was already searching for new recruits and adding with the reward money, free meals on wheels. Amanaka was strong, but did not want to apply for the job, fearing the one person would be there. Idbash, the destruction demon. The past has a horrible way of always coming up when money was needed. And now that money and food were in need, she knew that Idbash would be close by. The phone rang and immediately, Amanaka knew that it was bringing bad news.
"Hello."
"Hello, Amanaka. Remember me?"
Amanaka sighed and growled out a response. "Yes. I hear that you're in need of assistance, Admatha. Is the job you're on too difficult for the Almighty Bitch of the Underworld?"
She heard a confident chuckle on the other end of the line. "Why all the hostility? Are you afraid that I might be the bearer of bad news? Amanaka, come now. You seriously cannot be thinking that I want your help in this matter. I don't need it."
"Then what do you want, Admatha?"
"I just wanted to know if you wanted an opportunity of a lifetime?"
Amanaka shook her head; the phone still pressed against her ear so she could listen in on the interrupting sounds, such as a laugh from another listening party. When she could find none, she decided to foreign interest in whatever deal was being offered. "Maybe I need a new opportunity."
"You don't sound that convincing, Amanaka. Now, why is that? Oh, yes, you're deathly afraid of the half-demon Idbash. One of my closest associates in this little resurrection party. Might you be interested if I offered you a way to defeat her? Perhaps a way to destroy her permanently? Take your time, Amanaka. You know my number." The phone went dead in her hands.
"I think I like that ideology."
He continued to think about her and how pleasant it would be whack off the owner of the voice. Then how pleasant it would be to return to her and truly make her, his own. To linger his hands through her hair and look lovingly into her eyes and feel that surge of electricity running through his veins. How much he wanted to feel alive again! How much he needed to be with her! Twisting his head, he wondered how much the owner of the voice knew about his relationship with her; after all, he kept the information withheld from the followers and dead leaders. But the voice sounded as though he knew more than what he was letting on. He wondered what would happen if he did tell the others about his exclusive relationship between him and his girl, what type of chaos would that bring to the community of "misfits". She was certainly his type and it took him years of hunting and chasing to finally catch her. Wild as she was, she had a very deep desire to be caught by any man willing enough to chase after her for a long time. She claimed it showed "dedication", he said it showed "spunk". She loved him and that was enough motivation to make him yearn for freedom; he would have found a way out, any way out, but an easier opportunity found him first.
He walked around his little island of dancing flames and ghastly shadows, which had yet to frighten him. Something was not right; the owner of that voice was just too knowledgeable and most likely willing to do some damage, perhaps force or persuade the others to kill him off first. It would not have been the first for him. Nor would it be the last.
Admatha smile as she hung up the phone. Inside the apartment, only Sano stayed. Jael was sent to look out for other predators. Also inside, was the little teenager, Silver; the child with the blood of her ancestors, the child who would be able to resurrect the Leaders. CNN was on and the newscaster went on explaining how there were mysterious tremors coming from the Nebraska/Bible Belt area and why there seemed to be so many trips made by parents to go and visit relatives there, despite the dangers that a huge earthquake might be in the immediate future. Admatha smiled. Sano shuddered at the sight of the smile and went back to his original duties. Interrogating the girl; Silver was in no way a simple task to complete; the girl was feisty, kicking continually at the half-raccoon and squirming to get out of the chair. "Knock it off!" cried Sano at one particular point. "I haven't eaten ya yet!" But the girl did not stop, nor did she seem to care that her captor was growing fangs; all she cared about at the moment was being released back onto the streets where she "belonged". The CNN correspondent reported that the cornfields around the small towns of Hemmingford and Gatlin were beginning to grow at an alarming rate, considering that both towns were having a long drought season. "The winds are dying down for the moment, Michelle, something that has been occurring for the last few days. This wind is causing increasing numbers of dust storms throughout the area; especially in Granway. Some of the local farmers have been disappearing due to these storms. One wife claims that her husband was only going to the back of the house to turn on the water heater. Hours later she still waited and soon enough the idea of foul play entered her mind. Unfortunately, Michelle, foul play was nowhere near this small town. Instead, it turned out that the farmer was impaled by a stray –get this – corn stalk from out in the fields. He was found days later by his wife when she saw his body slumped, head lowered, and torso struck. By Michelle, there was no blood to be found. Everything was spotless."
"Well, Henry, what do the experts think happened to this poor individual?"
"Michelle, they think it was just an unfortunate circumstance."
"Are there any other experts out there: Autopsy, medical doctors, local farmers that could describe the scene or perhaps explain why something like this happened?"
"Only one person attempted to explain what happened. An old, retired priest."
"What did he say?"
"That the world was coming to an end, Michelle. That the children will crush the unbelievers and defilers of the corn. That is all."
Sano turned the television off and shrugged. "Guess you won't be living for very long, Silver."
Admatha brushed her white/blonde hair back and walked over to the now whimpering girl. "How right they are, Silver. The children will crush the defilers of the corn. And only one will have the honor to lead them to the battle fields."
Tabitha knew that she was different from Ember, Raven, and Kyle but was not sure why she felt that way. They all accepted her and allowed her to be herself completely, even when others would down upon her when she would make a sarcastic comment about the latest trends. But they were each so bonded to one another that it still made Tabitha feel insecure and out-casted. She pushed back her blonde hair, which was now beginning to show signs of red streaks, something, that happened only a few times in her life. "Perhaps. Perhaps it's time that I confronted them about this. Maybe it is because I'm so different, and they are not." But strangely, she felt that it was not true at all.
Amanaka felt slightly uneasily about calling Admatha back with a response. Yes, she did want the absolute pleasure of destroying the one who destroyed her, but the invitation was all simple and easy. Maybe there is something more to this, she thought. Maybe she is setting me up for something, a downfall of cosmic proportions. Something that would leave me banned. What the hell does she want with me?
There were not a lot of choices. She could only do one thing.
Call.
Silver struggle against the rope that was slowly cutting into her skin. She knew that her captors were in no way related to the gang that was following her earlier, but then again, every gang was following her. She had become a target all too quickly. She noticed that the male was subordinate to the white haired female, therefore her way of freedom would have to come from her. Taking a quick glance around the room, she noticed that the hotel patio was rather large, meaning that she was dragged unconsciously to the top floor. That only meant that she was trapped for a long time, even though it would be possible to escape. The man named Sano sat on the other side of the room, reading a magazine and humming a nonsensical tune. The female, Admatha, had left them alone, explaining before she left that Jael hadn't brought her back any news, good or bad, and was assuming that she abandoned her post. Or worst, that she was betraying the cause. Silver tried to hear what the "cause" could be, but everything they said was too vague to understand. All she knew was that Gatlin and Hemmingford were involved. But from where had she heard those names before.
The monks with their hooded capes came walking into the main arena, each chanting the verse of Old. Sul maint reputro kiya wendter lamno temmi tesmi unalo! Everything was going smoothly as far as the Elder was concerned. The green flames from the pit were growing higher and higher, now the only light in the room. The first five monks brought in five orbs, each glowing a hazy white color, while the sixth monk in line brought in The Book of Worlds, the most sacred of all texts. The Elder watched as the first five monks walked around the pit, each choosing a certain point on which to place the orb to form the all too recognizable sign. Sul maint reputro kiya wendter lamno temmi tesmi unalo! Sul maint reputro kiya wendter lamno temmi tesmi unalo! Sul maint reputro kiya wendter lamno temmi tesmi unalo! The Elder was handed The Book of Worlds and waited for the chanters to quiet down before truly initiating the beginning of the end.
He opened the large, dusty book and began to read. "Tesmi ari Es livra. Et ait tiru tesmi Es seni tu commince et tu finar. Tu wirant wisu comminct li dalar, ute tu Tami Spirato seni tu nele futo lina. Tu lina wisu godiä…Time ago Nothing lived. And at that time Nothing saw the beginning and the end. The world was beginning to form, in the Great Spirit's mind. But it had yet to produce. Nothing was alone in the darkness and existence had yet to be born. Nothing saw life and death, glory and destruction, happiness and pain, love and hate; Nothing saw and knew everything. Yet, Nothing was powerless to stop what was already written in His mind and was powerless to create the existence that had yet to be. And so millenniums passed like days and Nothing remained alone, unable to stop time and soon, His ultimate downfall. Nothing lived a life unfulfilled, because of His lack of power and immense knowledge; He knew that soon the void would need to be filled and when that time came Nothing would disappear forever into the places where existence could not breach.
Darkness kept Nothing company; even its silence spoke in volumes about how the world would survive ages without Him. The void did grow during the waiting period. It grew with restlessness and resentment towards Nothing, bitter because the void wanted life, any type of life. And Nothing could not provide it. And when the hour came for Nothing to vanish, Nothing came up with a salvation, the first worldly miracle. Through His immense knowledge, Nothing begot Chaos and the void was pleased and allowed Nothing to remain. The void waited to see what Chaos would bring.
Chaos was born in the form of a snake, with scales for armor, eyes to see all, and a large body with which to protect His creations. But what Chaos lacked Nothing had and what Nothing lacked Chaos had. Nothing had knowledge but no power, while Chaos had power, but no knowledge. And what Chaos created was nothing more than a mess, a jumble a things with no meaning to them. Nothing saw this and the void saw this, but neither of them could change what had begun. Chaos created chaos. Chaos could not stop what He was creating, for Nothing had already foreseen it and it was to be done. And Chaos spewed out air, water, heat, and land. Yet with no reason to sort them out, each creation was left to continually overthrow the other. Chaos coiled His massive body around each of His creations, allowing them no room to escape into the void and be lost forever. Nothing could not help, for His time was over and Chaos could only contain what was made, but could not place meaning to them. So Chaos stayed for centuries, guarding His creations from roaming and being lost forever. His snake-like eyes scanned the darkness and the waters lapped up against His immense body. Air continually whispered in his Master's ear, while heat scorched the land and land, weakest of them all, suffered. Chaos spewed out metals, to protect His least power hungry child, and the metals begot rock and formed the land into a mighty warrior. Heat continued its conquest, overthrowing air and water. Chaos saw it and regretted heat's birth. Nothing saw heat's power-hungry mind and watched as His son failed to bring about meaning and reason. But just as Nothing foresaw His downfall into the hands of His son, so he saw the downfall of His son. In the hands of His grandson.
Thus, when it came the time for Chaos to join His father, Chaos begot Order by spewing out the last of his strength and using water to create the next being to rule over Chaos' creations. Nothing was pleased and gave part of His strength to Order, allowing him to have knowledge over what was created and what would be created. Chaos placed himself in the far reaches of the void, awaiting His own Second Coming, when the world could no longer grasp knowledge, but power.
Order placed the things created by His father, Chaos, into a system. Order gave the land a place, the waters a place, heat a place, and air, a place. Order ruled longer than his forefathers and ruled with the tightest reign. But He did not have the power to create, only the power to control. And control kept a reign on Him. Order placed the waters at the edge of the land, securing their place for all eternity, while air hung in heat, to create fire. Order with the face of a fox and body of a coyote, walked carefully on the land, focused with keeping His father's creations at bay and in constant obedience. With a fox-like mind, Order knew that He too would be forced to give up His power to another, more powerful than He and more powerful than His forefathers. But Order had ambition and that made Him a formidable opponent, towards even His own son. But until the time that His Son dominated Him, Order would continue His reign.
The Elder watched from underneath his hood, how his followers seemed to fall into his words, listening intently to everything he had to say. Most he knew had already heard the story long ago, but the newer ones paid the most attention. Nothing was their Grandfather's age, Chaos their Father's age, and Order Their age. Or so it felt to them. But that was not the case. Even though, it felt so true. Order and focus were key in this nasty business of the occult; as well as, being incredibly stupid. The Elder saw that in their eyes, their dark inky black eyes and wondered if for a moment, if they knew the truth, would they fall even deeper into His plan?
He could see her now, a vision, a mirage goddess of the desert. Her dark hair and piercing green eyes, which could turn a hint of amber, gazed at him and his sad state. Normally, he would have felt ashamed, but this time, in his dark place, it was all right. He could see her tanned skin and eyes beckoning him to come closer. Her clothes lay simply across the skin, while her shimmering body glistened in the flame's light. He walked over slowly, prowled at his prey and licked his lips over his fangs. He looked deep into her eyes, her eyes that spoke in ageless tongues with ageless wisdom. His hands reached her first, touching the soft, smooth skin. They ran up and down her back and in the other places where her clothes dare not go. She was vulnerable for once, allowing him the simple pleasures of taking her slowly. His lips touched hers and he felt her hands running themselves throughout his hair, pulling him in. He nibbled at her neck as his hands expertly undid the fumbling clothes to reveal even more shimmering skin. His hands now roamed everywhere, but his eyes were locked onto hers; the flamers grew higher and the fire grew hotter, surrounding them, but neither took any notice of hell. Her hands slid down his bare chest and dotted their way up again; she touched his face and kissed his forehead, nose, and finally lips. She intensified her movements, kissing harder and harder, pushing her way passed his boundaries. "Stop," he whispered and she did. "How did you…?" She answered for him. "I have my ways. I've always had my ways." She pressed a finger to his lips and giggled, "Let us resume before I leave again." He readily agreed and took control, unveiling one last boundary and tossing it aside with ease. She smiled and leaned in. "To your return." He smirked back. "To my return." She felt his hands, exploring her and smiled with relief at the fact that he no longer needed a road map in order to find her weaknesses and make her tingle. He was glad that she finally knew how to be aggressive and a little more in control with her own abilities. The flames rose higher and higher, reaching to the top of the ceiling, until…she was…
He woke up and noticed that the flames had gone down quite a bit. He also felt the sweat that had soaked right through his dark shirt that had be strategically placed as a pillow for his head. His heart was racing fast and he still felt her touch all over, but he wondered if perhaps it was all some twisted dream?
Silver watched as the blood from her palm fell onto the white carpet of the hotel. Sano leaned forward and grinned evilly, taking her hand into his mouth and taking a little sip of her life-juice. "So delicious," he murmured in her ear, "and it is hard to believe that it came from you, little bitch." Admatha stood by Sano and she immediately hit him upside the head. "Thou shalt not take her blood, Sano. She still has a purpose. The time is already at hand. To Gatlin we return to." Sano placed a hand upon his head, the stinging pain, gnawing away at his alliance with the Almighty Bitch of the Underworld. Silver sat in the chair, no longer squirming from frustration, but crying from the fear that now was the time when she would finally see God and feel His hand upon her heart. "Judge me not," she whispered in pain. "Accept me for who I am. Or for who I was." Admatha smirked before turning her back on the girl; Sano moved away from Silver, though very tempted to lick the blood off from her palm. The girl on the chair shook and Sano knew that if he tried anything, Admatha would most likely strike him where he stood. So he left her there, tears coursing down her pretty pale skin. The television was still on, the CNN correspondent still describing the events happening in California, Nevada, Colorado, and Nebraska. The ground was losing control, evil things were stirring, and things that should have remained dead were rising once more to take away innocence. But the correspondent did not know that Gatlin was awakening from a long sleep, he only thought it was the beginning of a major catastrophe: he was not far off, actually. A catastrophe was approaching and just like a catastrophe, it was not going to be pretty at all.
Sano approached Admatha carefully, quickly asking about the half-demon Idbash. "Will she…?" he began and by looking in his master's eyes, he knew the answer. "Is there…?" and the answer again was no. No would always plague him, no would always be there to stop him, no was the one answer he knew to be the truth.
No.
Order struggled when His time approached, as do all things struggle when they realize that it is their turn to step-down. From Order came Justice, Mercy, and Punishment; the first trinity of the world. The first to fully overthrow their Father and become beloved entities, rulers who could create and govern the creations new or old, well. With divided power still used as one, the creations found peace and prosperity with the new rulers. Justice swiftly executed Laws, Mercy gave chances, and Punishment dealt out blows to those passed over by Justice and Mercy. The creations were pleased. So pleased were they, that they began to form an alliance amongst themselves. So pleased were they that they began to form and grow at their own will. So pleased were they, that for once all memory of the tyrant Order had vanished. The creations were pleased, the void was please, Nothing was pleased, and the world to be would soon be pleased.
Tabitha looked into the mirror and saw another 17 year-old staring back at her. The girl in the mirror looked so much like her, but it was not her. Everything felt wrong and could be seen in her eyes. Her blue told everything, a story, a song, a journey. For a moment she thought back to Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn and wondered if perhaps, she was transformed from something else and merely forgot what she truly was. Her heart had lied to her all these years and her mind followed in its path, but still, she knew that her heart was only protecting her from a reality that she did not want to have. Facing lies is so much easier than having the truth throw itself into life like a wrecking ball. The lies cared and the truth hurt. But something deep inside of her, something in the depths of her soul, wanted the truth. No, it needed the truth in order to survive. Why did she have that "bit of inhuman grace", an air that others could see so plainly; something she was so blind to? The night moon had kept in silently, bathing her room in a pale glow. It called her to the window, to gaze upon its beauty, which could not be denied. The moon held her in its glow and bathed her in beauty, telling her not the lies she had always heard, but a truth she had always come to know. A truth that was ageless against time, a truth that was older than she. The moon bathed her in memory. The moon gave her what she needed.
Kyle stared at Raven and asked her a simple question. "Do you feel it?"
Raven had to answer, even though it meant giving the obvious answer more reassure than it needed. "Yes. I feel it in my bones, which are about to break from the heaviness of such a load." She pushed away her black hair and watched with sparkling gray eyes as everything she had ever known, be turned to dust. The foundation of the world was crumbling at her feet, everything was returning back into what it once was. Everything was dying, surrounding her with decay and misery. The faces of those she loved melted and dripped onto the ground, faceless skulls moaning and blaming. Moaning and blaming her for their ill-fated history. "I feel it everywhere."
"Ember hasn't called and I haven't felt her presence in over five hours; Raven something is not right. Ember should have been here with us. She has the Gift of Sight. She knows exactly when it will happen."
"Just like her mother did." Raven walked towards Ember's front door, tempted to open it and see what was inside. And all it took was a hand on the front door. "She was exactly like her mother." Kyle gave her a weird look and touched the door as well. And he too understood. Raven sighed and let her hand dwindled a little more on the front door, before turning her back and walking away. "She was exactly like her mother; only this destroyed her internally."
"I wonder if anyone heard it?" Kyle lowered his eyes, not even bothering to look at Raven now. "Wonder when we'll be notified of it?" He didn't wait for an answer and instead walked off in the other direction. "Perhaps it is time that we truly got ready for it…after all, Raven, we knew it had to be coming."
Raven moved swiftly in front of him. "Don't ya think that perhaps we should do something?"
"What can we do? Raven, this is serious! They got to her. They got to her before we could. It's happening and she couldn't tell us. This is we have to go!" Kyle pushed his way past her, his eyes darkening, his face becoming calmer and calmer. "They took her. He took her."
"And we will find her again; Kyle, they still need time to set up and prepare for His coming."
"There won't be enough time to revive her, Raven. We have to leave immediately. Tabitha will understand."
"No, she won't Kyle. Besides, how long will we be gone for? We can't do this now! Tabitha won't understand. She's not one of us!"
"She doesn't need to be one of us. Ember knew what she was. She was something else."
"Yeah. She's normal."
Amanaka called Admatha back, worried more about the agreement in the alliance than about how dangerous the task was. She was sure that the friendly laugh at the end of the conversation was more than what it seemed, but she did not have time decode it. After all, she did have the chance of a lifetime. Killing Idbash was certainly worth the risk of working with Admatha.
David Johnson, a fine male specimen of about 24, entered the local church with ease. He picked out the fourth row and sat down, picking up the Bible and turning at the exact page the priest was on. The onlookers noticed but said only a few hushed words. He smiled to them, gave them a reassuring glance, and then went back to his work. They knew who he was and he knew who they were. Phonies, he thought. All of them just trying to hide their damn sins. Don't they realize that they will soon all be exposed? He kept back a laugh and continued to flip through the Bible, bored with the passage being read and moved onto Revelations.