Dark Inheritance

Chapter 19

Warning: Mature themes discussed

"It's nice we got together like this."

"I'm sorry we don't do it more often. Our schedules are so busy, usually."

Marcus and his female companion sat in the five-star restaurant enjoying their meal. She was beautiful: Long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a wonderful smile. The two ate as they caught up on each other's goings-on.

"So my father called me the other day." She said. "He says he's willing to front the money for the wedding venue, but he insists that he pick the music."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Always a stickler for those details. Just tell me it's not a Barber-Shop quartet."

"No, thankfully." His date said with a chuckle. "But Frank Sinatra will definitely be coming."

"Oh well." Marcus said. "If you're okay with it, then so am I."

His date nodded. "You know, you can offer your opinion on these matters." She pointed out. "It's your wedding too, you know."

"I've told you, I don't care much for standing on ceremony." Marcus replied. "If others have their preferences, that's fine by me."

"Typical guy." She answered cheerfully. "I understand. Besides, you're busy with your little side project, right?"

"It's hardly little or side." He answered. "Have you mentioned it to your father?"

"He'd never buy into it." She said. "He knows it's a large undertaking that could help expand the company. Once he sees the results, that should satisfy him."

"Well put." Marcus said with a smile. "You always were good with words." The two toasted their wine glasses.

…

Angelo's had once been a popular Italian restaurant. It was a place to get a good dish of pasta, steak, and destination of many a celebration, prom, or other high-end event. Now, it sat empty, the result of a falling out between the owner and his children. The parallel to his own story was not lost on JC.

He looked around the corner and eyeballed the building. It was dark inside, no sign of anyone. No cars, no movement, all quiet. Maybe they parked in the back he thought. He knew his uncle would probably bring back up. If JC got the drop on them, he should be able to take them down and subdue his uncle. Marcus would be forced to face him afterwards. He waited patiently; no one else seemed to show up. I don't like this he thought. Better check it out though.

Inside the restaurant looked almost as it did when it closed. Tables and booths were still standing, the bar was intact, but still he heard nothing. Scanning it with his vision showed no signs of life. Did he fake me out? JC thought. He walked a little deeper into the place—

The tendrils pulled him to the floor, causing his sword to drop from his hand. Nearby the figure stood, her arm reaching towards him—

JC snapped out of the vision. They were definitely getting stronger, more intense. Now the sensations faded, leaving him in the dark restaurant and the smell of—

He ducked as a gout of flame erupted next to him. Scrambling quickly, he ran deeper into the place, the main entrance cut off from him. He lept over tables and booths, the sound of explosions and breaking glass following him. To the side he saw the door leading back into the kitchen. Plowing through the heat subsided, contained in the main dining area. Seeing the back exit in front of him, he stumbled through it and back outside near the road. Behind him the building went up in flames. JC bent over and tried to catch his breath. Bastards he thought. Guess they're done talking.

"I thought we'd find you here."

JC looked up. Standing before him was a tall woman in a dark grey pants suit. Pretty, with a mane of dark curly hair. She stood, arms folded, a limo parked on the street close behind her.

"Miranda." JC said. He hadn't expected to see her again.

Miranda smiled. She looked past him at the building. "Burned down a whole building just to get you." She remarked. "And it still didn't work."

"Yeah, I got the feeling they don't like me." He answered.

Miranda laughed. She walked over to the limo and opened the rear door. "Get in. We'll take you to your Uncle's house."

"How did you—"

"We have our sources. And that is where you're going, isn't it?" JC was reluctant, but got in. Better than walking at this hour.

…

The two sat in the back seat quietly for several minutes. Finally JC spoke up.

"Not that I don't appreciate this, but why are you helping me? I thought you weren't doing anymore favors."

"Oh, this isn't a favor for you, kid." Miranda said. "This is for us. Your family tried to screw us on our contract. We can't let that slide easily."

"Sounds like you take that very personally." JC remarked.

Miranda leaned close to him. "Back in the day, we worked for an unscrupulous man doing his dirty work. When we got tired of the low pay and poor treatment, we left to form our own group. Our employer insisted we come back." She paused. "Do you know what we did?"

JC shook his head.

"We went back. Through all of his guards, as well as his personal troops. We left our final letter of resignation – in his mouth."

"Sounds effective." JC said.

"So when I say we don't let things slide, that's what I mean." She sat back. "Don't worry, though. What you did hardly compares."

"Good to know." JC said. They were silent again for a while. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Aren't you disturbed by what my family's doing? Kidnapping people and doing god-knows-what experiments on them? Doesn't that bother you?"

Miranda shrugged. "We're not superheroes, young man. We're mercenaries. Yes, it's deplorable, but we have our own problems. That's just the way things are."

"So I guess it is up to people like me then."

Miranda laughed. "Kid, frankly, I think you're on a fool's errand. If you honestly think you can take on a whole company, you're kidding yourself." She paused when she saw the look on his face. "But, you have guts, and I respect that. I hope it's enough."

"What will you do after you drop me off?" he asked. "Any new jobs?"

"We're heading for the airport." Miranda answered. "We're done in this area. Odds are you'll never see us again. Unless a job come across involving you, of course. In which case, nothing personal."

"That's…good to know." JC said. He looked out the window. "There's the house." He said, seeing the lights through the grove of trees. "I can walk from here." The car pulled over and JC got out.

"JC." Miranda said from inside the limo. "If you make it out of this, do yourself a favor: walk away."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You've got the rest of your life to get in over your head. Live your life. Be a kid. Don't get yourself killed." With that, she closed the door and the limo took off.

Sorry, Miranda he thought. But I'm in too deep as it is. He looked towards his uncle's house, the place where this all began. Ready or not, Uncle William.

As the limo drove away, the drive addressed Miranda. "Ma'am, why did you give him that advice? What's he to you?"

"Like I said, he's on a fool's errand. He's in way over his head. But, hey, I respect his determination."

"Reminds you of yourself from long ago?" the driver quipped.

Miranda smirked at him. "How long until we're at the airport?"

"About twenty minutes. Preparations have been made. The plane will leave the moment we embark. We should be back on base within a few days."

Miranda looked back outside. Good luck, JC she thought. I hope things work out.

…

William sat in his den, looking at the framed photo in his hands. JC and Judith, his niece and nephew, sitting on his lap, barely 5 years old, all of them smiling at the camera. He smiled at the memory, of the happy times they had. Shame it ended up like this he thought. But it had to be done. He set the picture on his desk and leaned forward, rubbing his eyes. When he was done, he noticed figure stood before him, standing patiently. William recognized the young man: JC. He stood without the mask he'd been using lately, a calm, stoic look on his face. The two stared at each other for a moment. Finally, JC broke the silence.

"Hello, Uncle." He said, his tone pleasant.

"Hello, nephew." William answered. "I supposed I shouldn't bother calling for security."

"I've arranged it so we won't be interrupted." JC answered.

"I see." William said. "Is this were you finally take your revenge?"

JC steeled himself. "It doesn't have to be. Just give me my sister and I'll walk away. I promise you won't get hurt."

William nodded. "That's very generous of you. Unfortunately that's not possible."

JC's shoulders sank in disappointment. "So that's how it's going to be."

"That is how it must be." William said, leaning back in his chair.

JC turned as if to leave. Then, quick as a flash, spun towards William's desk and punched straight down through it, splitting it in half. William jumped up and ran to the side away from him.

"Sixteen years." JC said though clenched teeth. "Our whole lives you lied to us!"

"I never lied!" William stammered. "We told you about the legends. You never believed them."

"You set us up!" JC said, advancing on him. "You pretended to care about us! All the while planning to lock us away for you little experiment!"

"It was determined to be the best way to bring you in!" William tried to explain. "I figured you'd be on board once the truth came out!"

JC picked up a lamp stand and threw it at him. "You don't believe that!" William dodged the lamp. "You've never believed that! From the moment this started you've been trying to get rid of me!"

"That's not true…" William started.

"You knew I'd never agree to this sick project. You also knew I'd never let you touch Judith. I was in your way so I had to go!" He advanced on William. "Of course that's not the main reason is it?" he continued, contempt in his voice. "You didn't try to get rid of me just because I would've said no. You did it because you thought you owned me! That I was your property!"

"You and your sister are the result of generations of our group's work." William pointed out. "Yes, there are those that think that makes you indebted to us. But I'm not one of them!"

"Bullshit!" JC yelled, charging at him. William dodged and ran to the other side of the room. JC punched the bookcase behind him, cracking it. "You did the same to everyone else you targeted! Drugged them and then snatched them up once they proved useful! You didn't care about them either!"

"JC, please calm down!" William said. He swung a punch towards JC, which JC quickly grabbed and used to throw him past him, leaving him sprawled on the floor. "Funny," JC said, looking down on him as if spying a bug on the floor. "You looked bigger last time I saw you."

"Please." William begged. "All we wanted to do was to bring out your potential. That's all I've ever wanted for you and your sister."

"Potential?" JC sneered. "You attacked us on our birthday, locked up my sister, and hounded me like an animal." He slowly approached William. "But even worse, you targeted people I cared about. You kidnapped Chelsea and murdered her grandparents. All because they were in your way. Well, one good turn deserves another, wouldn't you say?" JC extended his arm out. In a flash, his sword appeared in hand.

William looked at the display with a mixture of fear and awe. "The Sword of Kings…" he said. "So it's true – you can wield it!"

"Yes." JC said in a mocking tone. "The weapon of my ancestor." He pointed it at William. "Appropriate, don't you think, that I use it to send you to meet him!"

William cowered on the floor. "Please, JC…this isn't you! You don't do this!"

JC drew the sword back. "I do now." He said coldly. He lunged forward towards his target – and something grabbed his arm.

What? He looked over. A black tendril! It was holding his arm, stopping his attack! He tried to pull free but couldn't. Another grabbed his other arm. One by one he felt them grab and start pulling him down. What is…the vision…No! He kept trying to pull loose but to no avail. He looked down and saw the tendrils were coming from his own shadow! Who could do this? He tried to shout in defiance but one wrapped around his mouth, silencing him. He was pulled inexorably to the floor, losing his grip on his blade in the process. He tried summoning it back but couldn't muster the effort. He looked around, desperate for something, anything he could do. And that's when he saw it. Or, more to the point, her.

A figure stood in the door. Dark hair. Deep blue eyes. Her arm outstretched towards him. Hand glowing with power. His sister. Judith.

His own sister had ambushed him!

JC stared in disbelief. Judith…why? Why are you doing this? He kept struggling to free himself but couldn't. Shortly he was secured to the floor on his hands and knees, restrained, silenced. Trapped.

William scrambled up and went to Judith's side. "Impeccable timing Judith, my dear." He said, composing himself.

"I got here as fast I could." Judith said. "I needed him distracted."

"What about my security?" William asked.

"Looks like my brother distracted them so they were off site. They're fine." Judith looked at JC. "Go get the others. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thank you, dear." William said, patting her shoulder. He ran off out the door. Judith looked after him. When he was gone, she quickly ran to her brother and knelt down. Tears were visible in her eyes.

"Brother, I'm sorry." She said quietly but emotionally. "I didn't want to do this but…trust me, things would've gone a lot worse if I didn't." She looked towards the door. "I can't explain now. But…hang in there. I need you to trust me on this."

JC screamed something through his mouth restraint. He said a word he never thought he'd use to describe his sister.

Judith held back her tears. "I'm sorry." She stood as other people walked in. William's security detail. They all looked at JC's trapped form with smug satisfaction.

"So, this is the guy who's, given us so much trouble?"

"Doesn't look so scary now, does he?"

"Yeah, payback's a bitch, isn't it, punk?"

"Remember our deal." Judith warned them.

"Don't worry." The head guy said. "We won't hurt him." He brought his pistol butt down on JC's face. "Too much, that is." Judith cried out as JC's vision went black.

…

Marcus sat in his penthouse apartment, watching TV. It was late and he'd changed into his robe. He kept the volume down so as not to wake his fiancé, asleep in their bed. He flipped through each of the channels, noting several news reels.

"…talks between factions in this war-torn country have broken down, leading to further conflict…"

"…disaster at the oil refinery has forced people to evacuate the area…"

"…donate your money and help us bring hope and help to the community…"

"Help?" Marcus said to himself in disgust. "Don't play games with me. You're only helping yourselves." His phone, sitting on the stand next to him, went off. He quickly answered it. "Hello?" He was silent as he listened. "Really? Good work. I'll be over shortly. Yes, put it on him." He hung up and got dressed. Leaving a note for the woman explaining his disappearance, he headed out.

He arrived shortly at the facility. The guards greeted him as he headed down the hall. He approached the door they directed him to.

"Is he in there?" he asked. "Yes, sir." The guard answered. "Good. We'll need some time." Marcus informed him. He entered the room. One person sat at the table, standing to face him as he entered. He'd been reduced to his t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. All other stuff had been confiscated. The silver band had been put on his right wrist per his instructions. A couple of small bruises were on his face, along with a small cut on his lower lip.

"Cousin!" Marcus greeted him warmly. "So good to see you again. It's been a long time."

"Not long enough." JC said bitterly. He rubbed his face. "I've been enjoying the 'hospitality' of your henchmen."

"Yes, sorry about that. They're just a little upset over your behavior as of late."

JC held up the hand with the wristband. "This is it? No handcuffs?"

"Oh, I don't think they'll be necessary." Marcus said. "Even if you run, where are you going to go? This building's secure."

JC glared at him. "How did you convince my sister to betray me?"

"You mean the ambush?" Marcus answered. "Yes, quite effective, wasn't it? It was her idea, actually."

"You're lying."

"Not at all. She was very upset after hearing about all the things you've been doing. She was afraid you'd hurt yourself – or someone else. She was just looking out for you."

That can't be JC thought. "So, what happens now? Experimentation? Torture? Public execution? In that order?"

"No need to be so melodramatic, JC." Marcus said.

"Then why!" JC said angrily. "Why did you bring me here? Just to gloat?"

"No." Marcus said matter-of-factly. "There is something I want to show you. If you'll come with me please."

"What if I don't want to?" JC said defiantly.

"Then, we may be standing here for some time." Marcus pointed out, patiently waiting.

JC was quiet for a moment. "Fine." he relented.

…

Marcus led JC through the building. The halls were well-lit, with white linoleum tiling. The place was just like a laboratory; clean, antiseptic, sterile. He didn't like it one bit. Occasionally they passed someone dressed in labcoats. Some glared at him; others gave him a wide berth. He ignored them all; they didn't matter. Eventually Marcus brought him to a secured door with a scanner and fingerprint reader. A guard stood at the door. He eyed JC with contempt.

"Sir, why are you bringing him here?" he asked.

"Who has more right than him?" Marcus answered. JC wondered what he meant by that. The Marcus scanned his prints and the door opened. Inside was a small lounge area with chairs and a small table, just as well-lit as the hallways. Opposite the entrance was another door. Through that, JC stopped in amazement.

An entire laboratory and analysis facility spread before them. They stood at the top of an escalator leading down into the main area, where several people in lab coats and surgical gear checked readings, scanned monitors, and operated various equipment JC was not familiar with. Something told him he didn't want to know. Marcus led him over to a console and pressed an intercom button.

"Display Phoenix sample 7-A please." Some screens came to life and displayed some round, organic-looking material. As with everything else, JC didn't recognize it.

"We harvested these from Chelsea Harmon." Marcus explained. "They're being analyzed for compatibility with our other samples. Then we can pair them with suitable partners."

JC turned to Marcus. "What did you do to her?" he asked in horror.

"Induced ovulation." Marcus said plainly. "Our plan is to fertilize them with specially selected sperm, then implant the viable embryos back into the uterus."

JC paled. He was suddenly short of breath. He understood what had happened at the other facility: The surgery, the doctor's 'compatibility' test. He'd been too late. They're…they're monsters! he thought.

Marcus looked at him with concern. "You don't look so good, cousin. Shall we adjourn to the lounge area?" Some of the lab personnel joined them and led JC back to the previous area. JC was too much in shock to resist. He leaned against the table and tried to compose himself.

It was too much. Just when he'd thought he'd reached the deepest depths of horror, it suddenly got worse. He wanted to turn off the small voice inside his head that started to whisper that he should be glad; that now, if not before, his revenge was justifiable on any conceivable moral scale.

That voice proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was damned.

Marcus came over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Not feeling well?" he asked in genuine concern. "No worries, this place has excellent medical—"

"Don't touch me!" JC yelled, swatting his hand way. Marcus and the others looked at him in surprise. "You violated Chelsea! You stole from her!"

"We simply stored them for future use. They'll be safe until—"

"You raped her, you sick bastard!"

"In vitro fertilization is not 'sick'." Marcus explained dispassionately. "It's fairly common sense. It will allow us maintain the genetic integrity of the godgenes." JC glared at him. "Some of the older inheritors are already pregnant." Marcus continued. "They all consented."

"Chelsea wouldn't have consented."

"Oh, you think so? I understand she was rather sweet on you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" JC asked.

"Miss Harmon was one of the Nephilim, a genetic reincarnation of one of the most powerful inheritors known. It would only make sense to pair her eggs with the sperm of one like herself."

JC let the info sink in. Now he understood. He shook his head in disgust. "I knew it. You had no intention of letting her go if I turned myself in."

"I never said we would." Marcus pointed out. "Had you simply complied, you two would have been transferred to this facility, set up in whatever living arrangements you saw fit, have had access to the best living and medical care you could hope for, as well as a warm, nurturing environment to raise a family. You'd have even gotten to see your sister again." Marcus shook his head in disappointment. "But as usual, you just had to barge in like a bull in a china shop and make a mess. A rather valiant effort on behalf of your friend, even if misguided."

"Don't patronize me, Marcus." JC sneered. "I can't help being a bull in a china shop anymore than you can help being a greedy capitalist."

"Not greed, cousin." Marcus chided. "Ambition. Our group has strived to be the forefront of mankind's development, and our methods will ensure that. Sadly, Miss Harmon, the optimal incubator, is lost to us."

"Oh, I'm so sorry I derailed your twisted plan, 'cousin'." JC said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Hardly." Marcus responded. "I said she was the optimal incubator. But we still have her eggs, and we still have you. I'm sure we can find someone else willing to carry the offspring of you two." Marcus scratched his chin as he thought for a second. "How about that Belmont girl? Diana, wasn't it? I understand you two are very close. I'm sure she wouldn't mind—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Marcus." JC threatened.

The group was silent for a time. JC glared at Marcus, his hatred for him stronger than he thought possible. He longed for the comforting weight of his sword in his hand. Sadly, he couldn't summon it. Nore did he possess any of his other equipment. He was surrounded by scientists and he knew there were some guards outside. He weighed the odds that he could take Marcus out right here before someone managed to stop him. He kept getting an unacceptably low percent.

Finally Marcus spoke up. "JC, can't you see what we're trying to do? We're trying to give humanity a great gift. With all the scandals, tragedies, and disaster that keep occurring, don't people need some hope? We can give it to them."

"Nobody wants you to." JC retorted. "You don't have the right to force it on them either."

"Don't we? Our family is descended from two of the original Nephilim. We possess knowledge, power, and influence that rivals anyone that could compete. Why shouldn't we help guide them?"

"You're not 'helping' anyone." JC stated. "You kidnapped people who had what you wanted. Just like Chelsea. Just like Andre. Just like you tried to do with Kayslee."

"We did them a favor." Marcus responded, sounding annoyed. "Without us, they would just be living pointless, meaningless lives, serving no one but themselves. Just look at you." Marcus again looked at him with contempt. "You never aspired to anything lofty, never had any plans. Even after you developed your powers, nothing changed. You ran around causing all kinds of mayhem, thinking only of yourself, dragging others like you into the same destructive path. At least your sister has the good sense to make something of herself here. Her children will be examples of what inheritors should aspire to."

JC narrowed his eyes. "If you've touched her in any way…"

"Relax, JC, it's too soon for that." Marcus said. "She still has work to do. But we feel she'll be ready soon. And if you behave, you'll be taken care of as well."

JC thought he might throw up. "You seriously think I'll help you? After everything you've done?"

"Why not? Isn't that in your best interest at this point? Even after all your efforts, our plans are still running. Even your sister, whom you claim you did it for, felt the need to bring you in. Doesn't that put things in perspective?"

JC was silent. Marcus continued. "Besides, aren't you tired of running around? Getting into all kinds of trouble, causing nothing but destruction and misery? Here, you'll never have to rely on anyone else, live a comfortable life, and have a bright future laid out for you. Best of all, you'll be reunited with her."

JC looked down in silent depression. "I know she's not your favorite person right now. But I'm sure the two of you can work it out. You're family after all."

JC looked as though he was about to fall apart. "You're right Marcus. I did all those terrible things and have nothing to show for it. People like me need to be shown the way."

"That's right." Marcus said pleasantly. "People like you are the future."

"People like me." JC repeated. He looked at Marcus with a sneer. "You mean – not like you?"

Marcus was stunned at his response. The scientists in the room wondered as well.

"You keep talking about how people like me are the future. How the family's kept the line strong for generations. You covet those abilities – even though you have none yourself."

"Your point?" Marcus said, clearly annoyed.

"You're not interested in helping humanity Marcus, no matter how loud you shout it. You're jealous, pure and simple. You love stories about inheritors but you never developed any abilities. That's why you want me under your thumb; if you can't wield them, you might as well control them – because you can't stand people like me and my sister leaving you behind!"

"I am trying to help the world!" Marcus said, getting angry. "I recognize the sense of responsibility! You, on the other hand, are irresponsible and petulant. Someone with such an attitude is undeserving if such power!"

"And there it is." JC said, smug smile crossing his face. "The mother of all excuses. You want power but can't have it, so you're forcing people who do to work for you. You're no different than a tyrant, Marcus. Go to Hell."

"But we do have power, cousin." Marcus said, composing himself. "Our power lies in technology, amongst other things." Two of the scientists approached JC from either side, flanking him. "That power will allow us to secure humanity's future. Someday you'll realize that." He addressed the scientists around him. "Take him to processing."

JC had had enough. In a swift motion he hit the one to his right with his forearm and kicked the left on in the leg, knocking them both down. Turning quickly he bolted from the room, hitting the open button and shouldering aside the guard stationed beyond. He ran as fast as he could down the corridor, looking desperately for any way out: a door, stairwell, anything. Those in the halls that saw him smartly got out of his way. He heard people shouting behind him as he rounded a corner and saw an elevator at the end of the hall. It's my only chance he thought; there was no other way out. He ran in and hit the button. The doors closed too slowly for his comfort; he saw people, including his cousin, round the corner just as they closed. The elevator descended with a soft hum.

"No worries." Marcus said to his underlings. "He's trapped himself. That elevator only goes to one location."

When the doors opened JC found himself in a different environment. It was still white washed and clean-looking, but far more 'cozy' than above. Soft lighting, perfect temperature, plants and flowers…what kind of lab is this? He ran down the halls, noticing a few people sitting in lounge chairs chatting amongst themselves. A wide open area contained a marble water fountain with a motif on the largest wall: An image of the Earth with angel wings on either side. Above was the phrase "Welcome to Eden."

Eden? What's that about? He didn't have time, he had to keep moving. Spying a large door to the right he pulled it open. Inside was another lounge-like area with another fountain, along with tables and chairs, like a park. Three people, all women, sat at a table several feet away, chatting pleasantly. They wore white ankle-length gowns and had gold tags around their necks. They noticed JC quickly.

"Oh, my, who are you?"

"Are you new here?"

JC was stunned. Are they- He didn't get to finish the thought. A sharp pain in the back of his neck surprised him. He reached back and pulled something out: a dart. He felt suddenly woozy. Can't…lose…consciousness… It was no use. He fell to the floor and rolled onto his back. Above was a familiar face: Gail Smith, Marcus's secretary. In her hand was a small pistol-like weapon.

"Yes, those are other inheritors." She said to him in a pleasant tone. She was joined shortly by Marcus and some of his henchmen. JC barely managed to extend his middle finger before losing consciousness. One of the people checked his pulse and nodded at Marcus. Marcus looked at JC in disappointment.

"Well, so much for the carrot. Guess we'll have to use the stick."

~To be continued