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Souls of the Night – Vol 3.

70.

"What are we supposed to do with this thing?" asked Jasmin, repulsed by the artifact, which looked like a salt lamp, as if she already suspected that it could harbor something terrible.

"Put your hands on it and you'll see," I said.

"I'm so tired, Nathaniel. So tired because of those delusions in your head. Why are you like that?" my father sighed and raked a hand through his hair.

It was still thick, but I had never noticed that it was more gray and white than dark brown. He looked so old. As if I were really crushing his heart and robbing him of his last strength. When all I wanted to do was keep them from doing worse.

"You two are completely-" Jussuf began angrily, leaning forward presumably to grab the thing and smash it on the ground. But as soon as his hands touched the base, he froze, gasping for air with a deep groan. His eyes went blank as his body remained painfully stiff.

"Honey?" Jasmine asked, shaking him on the shoulder and then grabbing the hand on the stone that was closest to her. And since the magic also worked when a person touched the one who had a connection to the stone, Jasmine was also sucked into the visions contained in the crystal. It was disturbing to see how people looked like then, their faces slack and rigid at the same time, their eyes wide open but unseeing, every breath, every muscle twitch, even blinking nothing conscious but only a mechanical body reaction. How Lexington and I must have looked, but my fascination with the helpless, seemingly anguished state in which two of the people who had most enjoyed putting me down, was distracted by my mother's reaction.

"What have you done!" she cried, jumping up along with Hassan to pull the other two out of their trance and, as soon as they had touched the bare skin of the others, they were likewise trapped, thrown back into the cushions, paralyzed and rigidly stiffened by the visions they were being confronted with. Then only my father was left sitting there. He looked from his human family members to me and Lex with wide eyes.

"You have to see it, Baba. I can't ... leave you to Jussuf. I didn't want this family to develop in this direction. That you would believe that someone like him could do you good. I'm sorry that I wasn't strong enough to save you completely in 2001, but please, please touch the stone. I don't want to hurt you anymore. Not any of you. But if you want to know the truth, then touch the stone. Not for me... because by the time you've seen this, you'll already think it's too late for me. But for Mom. And Jasmine. And especially Hassan," I begged, my voice breaking in a most miserable way. He and I were now alone (apart from Lexington's silent presence). For the first time in many years. I was so drained but for the first time in a long time I had the mental strength and the reason to ask him for something. He just had to want it - the truth. I sniffed and wiped away a tear. I would actually even as a human have enough physical strength to just drag him forward and press his hand against the crystal. But I didn't want to force him, I couldn't. He had to want to see for himself.

And he wanted. My father - so cold, so introverted, so caught up in traditions and conventions that the 2001 version of him had basically given up, customs and reliance on an institution and a community that were supposed to be a substitute for everything he had lost - took a deep breath, just as I had before we entered the house. Then he slowly leaned forward and placed his hand on the stone, becoming a hollow shell barely connected to the body before us.

Now that the people were far away, I felt how tightly wound I was. I pressed my breath out, trembling, and rubbed both hands over my hot, damp face. My throat hurt from all these raw feelings that wanted to break out of me. I couldn't remember ever having spoken so much and so coherently and honestly with anyone in my family. Without stammering or buckling. I was pleased with myself, relieved that it was finally out and at the same time so exhausted that I wished the sun would rise and I could sleep. Lexington put an arm around my shoulders and kissed me on the forehead. As crazy as it was, I realized that the most exhausting and unpleasant part was already over. When they woke up, it would probably be stressful again, and then... well, that might even be fun. There was no exact script, but there was a central theme. After all, human beings are many things, but mostly highly predictable – and Jussuf Masoud was no exception. So I allowed myself to let go for a moment, I almost melted into Lexington's side and let myself be cuddled for a few seconds.

We didn't have much time to lose in mutual expressions of tenderness.

It would be quick. There were thousands of little memories with Jussuf and I couldn't be sure what my family would see. That was up to the magic. That was something magic users usually had to accept. It was a surreall concept that most magic had a mind of its own and even unimpressive artifacts didn't always follow 100 percent of their basic "instructions for use". Just because beings like Oberon could summon, channel and direct their magic in the most focused way, making them appear omnipotent, didn't mean that magic wasn't always a wild card to some extent. There were even different types of magic - not just human sorcery or that of the Fey. Something that I would supposedly learn and understand better in the coming months and years. After all, it was now my responsibility to get to know my magic and myself a little better so that I wouldn't blow up like a misfired bomb at some point. But pretty much all the memories regarding Masoud were worrying in one way or another and later disturbing or shocking. I just had to trust that the magic would provide them with the information they needed to see, but I was pretty sure that one or more of my rapes would be included, probably the last one, probably Lex Eyrie's negotiation with Jussuf in his company regarding my "transfer of ownership" to Lex, Jussuf's attempted murder of me and Lex Eyrie. And... I had also put other things into the stone, with a lot of insistence, so that it would not be neglected.

"Lex?" I said, a little unsure how he would take it.

"Yes, my heart?

"I've also fed the stone with other things."

"Yes?"

"Yes. I want them ... to see me as I am. Who and what I really am. Now. That way there will be no going back. Neither for me nor for them."

Lex took a deep breath and smirked in understanding.

"That's okay, Nate. I'm glad. Every time there are bigger lies in a family, it ends terribly. I learned that the hard way – we all learn that every night. And I doubt anyone would believe them. And even if they did, I'll go every step of the way with you."

"Thank you," I whispered, unable to bring many words out. My wide smile hurt my tense muscles, but I was so grateful to have him. To have them all. It was disgusting to think it, but the Manhattan clan was such a much better family than my human one.

The scars on my soul would remain. But Lexington would be there. The clan would be there. I would never feel alone again.

"It will soon be over," Lexington assured me and we both turned our attention back to the humans. They were no longer completely silent. Even in their paralyzed state, with their eyes partially rolled back and vacant, my relatives croaked and whimpered as they probably experienced fairly recent scenes in their minds. My mother gasped silently like a fish on dry land. My sister had tears running down her cheeks and her paralyzed, cramped hands were shaking. Jussuf was in the same state as the others and I couldn't tell from his chalk-white face whether he was shocked by the repetition of these scenes from OUR past and my perspective or whether they triggered a perverse feeling of pleasure.

How easy it would be – now that he was immobilized, unable to resist or even speak – to turn myself back into a gargoyle and run my claws over his face. To rob him of his eyes, which I had been so afraid of for so long. To tear out his tongue, which had convinced everyone around me that I was not only perverse, mentally ill, but also a morally depraved pathological liar. Fiery swirled inside me, pressing me to put my foot in Masoud's crotch and serve his dick crispy and crunchy to everyone here. I shuddered and didn't know whether I was shuddering with glee at the idea or with horror at how much I (and not just Fiery) would like this to happen.

And I didn't even have time to question my own morals or be horrified at myself. Because it was over. All five people gasped for air at the same time as if they had dived through a long pool, recoiled from the stone and panted frenetically. They were briefly disoriented - looking around, Hassan and my mother clung to each other, presumably just to reassure each other of their own and thus of reality. My father did the most disturbing thing of all. Something that few people often see their fathers do, simply because the social gender construct would hold it against many men, especially Muslims. Unless there was a special occasion, such as a funeral or a shock. And here, both applied, because I had not only buried Jussuf Masoud, but also the old human being Nathaniel Sharif. My father began to sniffle and sob quietly, trembling, burying his face in his hands, while Jussuf just sat there staring at me as if he were still in a trance.

How strange that orchestrating my own funeral didn't feel like a loss at all. But like a liberation. They now knew what Jussuf had done to their son and brother over the years. And that he was not the honorable man they had otherwise thought him to be. No savior. No angel. Tumbled from his throne of mediocrity. I raised my head proudly and defiantly and returned Jussuf's gaze, not even knowing if he was consciously aware of me. My sister was already more in the here and now.

"That wasn't real. How did you do that?" whispered Jasmine, holding her hands in front of her eyes as if she wanted to scratch out the memories. But the images were not in her eyes. They were in her head. And her subconscious knew that everything she had seen had been real. Even if it had only been shadows of the past. She had slid as far away from her still-fiancé as the couch would allow, although she probably still didn't trust the stability of her legs enough.

"That's magic, sister. More real than you think. In every relationship. And the knowledge that everything in the memories also happened is part of the trick. It seems cruel and extreme to you – and it probably is. But my suffering and my word wasn't enough. It hurts to see the light after wanting to be blind for so long, doesn't it? If you still want to marry your Prince Charming with his sadistic closet-gay impulses, I'll send a condolence card," I said snappishly, but, my God, it felt good to be spiteful, even if it should disgust me to kick a person who was already down.

"Will that happen to me too?" Hassan had freed himself from our mother's clinging arms, panic in his eyes, he looked at us, then at Jussuf. I didn't know if he was asking us or him. "Will that happen to me too? What happened to my brother!? He always suffered, was always afraid and nobody did anything!" he screamed, jumped up agitatedly and glared at Jussuf.

Our mother wanted to touch him, but he shook her hands off.

"He's not the one who's sick! He never was! It's you! You're the sick bastard here, Jussuf. And I'm supposed to be Nasser number 2? While you marry my sister, get her pregnant and play the model Muslim, you torture and rape me on the side!?"

He rolled up his sleeves and held out his arms to us. Our mother screamed - stifled, disempowered. The red marks were not only from cigarettes. The belt, I thought, and I couldn't help but let an inhuman growl escape from my throat. Lexington almost threw himself at me as I jumped up to pounce on Jussuf. He had stood up, put the armchair between us, the fireplace behind him, and grinned desperately, as if he thought the whole thing was a joke and couldn't believe that everyone was taking it so seriously.

"Hassan, calm down! You don't really believe that! Let it be magic. But none of it was real. It's a scam. Some sick game. Eyrie paid some witches with his Jew money to put a hex on you. To turn you against me. Just another attempt by Nathaniel to..."

"Did you do that?" The voice of the head of the family was icy. He had traces of tears on his face, tears even hung in his beard. But his voice was strong as it had not been for a long time. Jussuf grinned, but it looked crestfallen and desperate. His charade was coming to an end and he knew it.

"Baz. My friend. It was just a disciplinary measure," he defended himself, laughing hoarsely. "You said he should study more. I'll get him a good job, but he has to make an effort. His attitude is terrible. Like Nathaniel's was. America makes many of the younger generation so weak and lazy and fickle. I'll get him a decent job, but—

"Like you got me a decent job?"

From one moment to the next, Jussuf's attitude changed. His anger was directed at me, but I noticed that he was trying to keep the armchair between us. His subconscious knew that everything was true – including my now concealed claws and fangs.

"You! – Nasser! You are a snake. An ungrateful, little turncoat. I am a gift to this community and to this family, and you can't stand that because you seem so much more pathetic in comparison! Hassan will turn out very differently from you. And that's why he needs a little discipline." Struggling to regain control of his facial expressions, he brushed his hair from his sweaty forehead and looked at my father. "To make him a decent man. A good Muslim."

"I educate my children!" thundered Baz Sharif, slamming his fists on the table so hard that you would think he was trying to break it. "Without violence, I educate them! And they decide for themselves how they want to become good Muslims. And if you are the role model... then Allah have mercy on us."

"What else have you done? WHAT-?"

My mother had rushed to Jussuf, beating her former favorite "son" with a rage worthy of a gargoyle. But without claws and strength, she was easily shaken off. Jussuf pushed her backwards so that she fell onto the couch, powerless and shaken. She immediately turned to her youngest and now asked him the question. "What else has he done to you?" Hassan shook his head, his face more consumed by anger and disgust than terror. This proved that it had not yet gone beyond his arms. Jasmine looked at her ex-fiancé with cold eyes. The disgust, which had always been directed only against me, now had a much angrier, much more hateful facet. This sight was without words.

Then Jasmine's attention wandered to us. "But if all this is true," she whispered, looking at us.

I stood up for the first time. I looked at Lex, who took my hand as I held mine out to him in a calm and gallant manner. Almost at the same time, we pulled the bandages off our arms. The transformation back into our original selves washed over us like a wave. I heard my mother scream. My father - once again robbed of his words - stared at us.

Jasmine and Hassan had sunk down on the couch and were looking at their older brother in a form that was so different that none of it could be a trick. No CGI and no drug high could have created this illusion. But Jussuf was still with us.

"This is not true!" he shouted, pointing at us with a trembling hand. "This is not Nathaniel! It's all just a trick of these monsters! Gargoyles in the Flatlands? In this house? Seriously? They're fucking with you with their magic! And you! You're idiots for believing it."

"You're not fooling anyone anymore, Jussuf. And there's only one monster in this room." I grinned at him, remembering the terror my own fangs had caused me on my first night as a gargoyle, how strange and unreal and devilish my face had seemed to me. The person I had been afraid of for 15 years recoiled as I approached. And I thought he would flee. But instead, he grabbed the poker from the stand next to the fireplace, raised it high and tried to split my skull with it. I caught the iron and sent heat into it lightning fast, so that it immediately glowed red. Jussuf let go with a terrified scream. I bent the sturdy metal into a tight U with ease, threw it into the fireplace and herded my former tormentor towards the exit. Because that was the plan.

"The party's over for you, Masoud. You're fair game now. So it would be smart if you started running. Leave New York, leave America. And I suggest you hurry, because once I take wing, I'm very fast. One of the perks of my new self."

And Jussuf Masoud ran, not looking back at the other people he had wanted to claim as his family, not looking back at his former fiancée. He left them behind without a trace of resistance or protest. And nobody stopped him either, and I wished that was not only due to shock. This family had given up a good son out of stupidity and ignorance – but they would ostracize Jussuf with full knowledge of the truth. He would never get a foot in the door again. Not here and nowhere else. We would make sure of that with our next moves.

Lexington took my hand and wanted to lead me out. I knew where Jussuf would flee to and our time frame was not endless. But I couldn't leave it like that. I wasn't quite finished yet. I looked at my family sitting in the living room, frozen in a state of numb shock. Hassan and Jasmine were crying. My mother shook her head again and again like a machine and whispered in Arabic so quietly that I could only assume that it was a prayer. My father looked at us with big eyes.

I didn't even know if they heard me when I said: "Omm. Baba, this is Lexington Wyvern. I love him and I'm not ashamed of it. Nor am I ashamed of the fact that I'm no longer human, even though the first time it happened without my consent, I chose it the second time. And Lex loves me. For all my scars and for all my colors. I don't know if that means anything to you - but I'll be fine. Make sure you are well too. I didn't want to harm you. I wish I could have let you live in your lies. But it wasn't just about me. I hope that someday you will be able to live with the truth – and move on. I do too. Goodbye."

.

Relieved to get far away from these monsters, Jussuf got out of his car. He walked quickly towards the storage room. At the very back, on the edge of the property, which seemed so quiet at night, it had been perfect for depositing his "extra savings" every month.

He could have instructed Nathaniel to hide his illegally acquired cushion of money in an offshore account. Technically, he could have done it. But he hadn't trust him. Mentally weak people – who, even after years of training, repeatedly show that spark in their otherwise dead eyes, that last trace of their own will and hope – could not be trusted.

What this evening had proved. How had he managed to become such a monster? A Gargoyle! He doubted that Nathaniel had always been one – hidden among humans. Such a creature would never have allowed what Jussuf had done to him – over the years. He would not have been able to break such a creature – it would have slit his belly open first. Although the thought of having such a creature lying beneath him, begging and whimpering, made his trousers tighten around his crotch. Dreams. Now was not the time for them. Nathaniel and his monster lover (not a Jew, but a gargoyle! Just as bad if not worse!) had ruined everything for him. No Jasmine, who with a little more training would not only have been a docile first-class wife, demurely Muslim on the outside and slutty enough for the bedroom, but also his plans for Hassan. The boy had just begun to feel uncomfortable and tormented in his presence and it would only have been a matter of a few weeks before he had forced him to his knees just like Nasser and more would have happened in a few months. He had been able to refine his methods since he started training with Nasser.

Now he had nothing left. No more Sharif family to look to him as a savior, no more Jasmine to decorate his arm for many years to come, and no more Hassan to act out his true desires. But he still had one thing, even if his little submissive accountant had fluttered away forever. Now Jussuf had no need to take him on. Claws, fangs, magic and how had he made the poker glow without any aids? Never mind. He would leave, but not empty-handed.

Jussuf pulled a travel bag out of one of the bottom drawers of a large, heavy commode in the back of his rented storage room. He then pulled the piece of furniture away from the wall and, grinning, looked at the wads of money that were taped to it, neatly lined up next to and on top of each other. 10,000 per bundle. Plus the two million from Eyrie, who, as Jussuf just realized, had perhaps never been that wretchedly insolent Jewish copycat but always Lexington Wyvern, the Gargoyle. In total, he had 5 million dollars. It wasn't much, but in Mexico you could do something with it. He unzipped the sports bag and stuffed the bundles of money inside. It shouldn't be difficult to organize a private plane to Mexico. One of his buddies would be waiting for him in the morning with a fully fueled plane and fly him down before anyone would wonder what had happened to him. The Islamic community stuck together and asked few questions when it came to one of their own. Most were just sheep and easy prey for a lion. His home country had never been an option, as the Sharif family would probably call there first once the dust had settled, but he really wasn't that attached to his homeland.

After a quarter of an hour, when he was sure that he had taken all the bundles that had been hidden in the storage room, he stepped out of the space, took a deep breath.

He had lost the Sharif family, his old and new toys, even America. But he was still healthy, looked good, had his money – the rest of the world was still open to him. That's what Jussuf Masoud really believed as he walked back to his car with the bag.

"Not much baggage, there," he heard a familiar voice say behind him, and he spun around in alarm. And saw nothing.

"Up here."

Jussuf looked up. Above him, at the edge of the single-storey row of storage rooms, the Gargoyle Nathaniel was crouching and staring at him.

He didn't move from his spot, but stretched out his four-limbed hand.

"I'll help you with your luggage, Jussuf."

He clung to the full bag.

"You don't believe that yourself, you damned monster." The Gargoyle Nasser smiled broadly. Inhuman teeth. Fangs. God, and how that looked together with the horns on his jaw. The curved horns that grew out of his forehead. He looked somehow like his former victim and yet completely different. More powerful in attitude and body.

"No, of course I didn't think so. But as much as I appreciate you leaving my family's life, you can't take the bag. The money isn't yours."

"Nor is it yours."

"No, and I regret helping you embezzle it. That's exactly why many Americans think of us as criminals and fraudsters. Because there are people like you. Most of the money belongs to the state, the rest belongs to my friend. But let's be honest, five million is peanuts for the American financial system."

"How do you know-?"

"I'm Nathaniel! It's easy to forget, the way I look now. I've been keeping track of your finances. Of course, I know pretty much exactly how much is in that bag - plus Lexington's two million, which he paid FOR ME. Hahahaa," the blue gargoyle with the many horns laughed, and where the first sounds still sounded very human and like Nathaniel Sharif - like a Nathaniel before Jussuf Massoud had begun to train him - the sounds changed to a chirping and yet strangely threatening song. Amused, but without the joy reaching his unchanged pale eyes (actually, these strange eyes had been the reason why he had fucked Nasser almost only from behind), the monster wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with the back of his hand.

"Now I can laugh about how ironic it all was. Although you tried to kill me and Lex afterwards. Never mind. As I said, a loss of 5 million is nothing for the state to worry about. I was thinking more along the lines of a small donation to a community center or a facility for the mentally ill wouldn't be bad. Not under the name Masoud or something like that – we don't want any money to be claimed back when the authorities find out how long you've been defrauding them.«

"I only took what was mine. I gave my employees work and supported the Muslim community!"

"For so much honesty, this bag still looks pretty heavy," said the Gargoyle, who was probably really Nathaniel Sharif, and made a beckoning hand movement that with the claws looked like he was about to tear out his guts. "You can put it down now, or I'll come and get it."

Jussuf did the only thing a former predator could think of when threatened and started to run. However, he didn't get three yards before a purple female gargoyle in a police uniform stepped out of the shadows. Her badge glistened in the light of the U-store illumination.

"Hello, Mr. Masoud. I'm Angela Wyvern. I work for the NYPD - Department of Hate Crimes against Minorities. Unfortunately, I can't include your crimes against our new brother, since he was still a human being at the time - but I'll be happy to point your company out to my colleagues in the Economic Crimes Unit. Something tells me that we'll be able to crack the encryption on your accounting immediately. Even if the money has been transferred to God knows where. Bribery of almost all your suppliers, accepting favors, corruption – I have someone who can give us a lot of good information about these allegations."

Jussuf looked up in horror at Nathaniel, who was smiling at him gently and clutched his money bag even tighter.

"This is not over yet!" he shouted, not knowing which of the two monsters to look at. He decided on the monstrous female. She was wearing a state uniform, so she must be just as soft as all those who let themselves be lulled by the kuffar. "You can't do this to me! I'll sue you back to the Middle Ages. I'll make sure that the entire Muslim community hunts you down!"

His car shook behind him, metal creaked and when he turned around he was stared at by glowing eyes.

"Wrong, human!" hissed the gargoyle, inhumanly hateful, who had sat quietly next to Nathaniel at the Sharifs'. The gargoyle who ran a billion-dollar company and whose face had already defiled many magazine covers. "You won't sue us! Because we're not here, just like you're not here."

He raised one of his arms, which had webbed skin stretched between them, and pointed with a claw in the direction of the entrance to the property, where another car was just pulling in. A man got out of it just a short distance away from him and headed for his own storage unit. And Jussuf ran again.

"HY! HEEYY help!" he shouted and waved his arms. But the guy who was just fiddling with the padlock on his rolling gate lifted his head, looked in his direction and didn't see him. He only saw an open storage room at the other end of the site, where someone might be fetching or putting something away. Nothing special, not even at night.

In his attempt to escape or to attract the attention of the other human, Jussuf collided with a wobbly wall that suddenly appeared in front of him and fell to the ground. He was picked up by a large turquoise gargoyle as if he weighed nothing. He screamed as this bald gargoyle roared at him with glowing eyes and threw him over his car. Where he was caught by an EVEN BIGGER gargoyle - the purple one - what was his name? - and roughly put back on his feet.

"You will surrender and confess to all your crimes," he growled in a sepulchral voice, his eyes glowing as well.

"You have no proof! I will never confess to anything!"

"How unfortunate," said a red older gargoyle with an eye patch and a beak. A younger one, who had been famous before, grinned next to him – an estimated thousand sharp teeth, made to tear flesh from bone, like all of them had.

"Although we were also hoping for a lack of cooperation," he said ominously. Jussuf spun around frantically- more gargoyles appeared, an ice-blue female, a younger red one. On the hood- closer to him than Lexington Wyvern- perched a gargoyle child but her glowing eyes and hissing were terrifying.

"You hurt my uncle! You'll pay for that!"

"We look after our own. And we take it very personally when one of us – even when he was still a human – has been harmed," growled the red adolescent female, who stared at Jussuf with loathing as if she were a snake and he a mouse.

"You work for the state! For the police? You are not above the law! You can't do anything to me!" the human argued.

"I think we'll make an exception," said a green female with a horn like gnarled wood on her forehead, who, like an orange-colored male Gargoyle, now flanked Nathaniel on the roof of the storage room.

Masoud, deprived of any way out, looked again at the man who was carrying a box to his car a few dozen yards away. He gasped for air and no one stopped him as he screamed as loud as he could. His cry faded into the night without the other man reacting. For a few seconds, Jussuf looked around at the amused-looking monsters as his spirits sank.

"Why doesn't he hear me?" asked Jussuf quietly.

"He can't see you either. I made sure of that. There's a magical barrier around us all. And around you and your car too," said a gargoyle who had just come forward from the darkness with a fox-like smile. He looked different from the others. He had red skin in addition to orange hair, strong bat wings but thickly furred legs that gave him something of a faun-like appearance, but no hooves, just clawed feet like the others. And extravagant horns from which thorns grew, almost like a crown of thorns. His green shimmering eyes had something otherworldly about them - and strongly resembled Nathaniel's, although his were ice blue.

"You are invisible to the eyes and ears of others, Jussuf," Nathaniel whispered cheerfully.

Jussuf backed away to his open car door, hoping that neither Lexington Wyvern nor the nameless, feral-looking spawn would attack him there. They were playing with him. He was all alone, they were twelve, and that was only the ones he could see. But Jussuf had one last straw to grasp. He had to, because giving up without a fight was not in his nature. He would take at least one of the monsters with him – preferably Nathaniel or his lover.

"You may have your little gargoyle army, but you're still a pathetic worm. I won't admit anything, even if you kill me!" he shouted, diving into his car. Strong hands yanked him out as he grabbed his gun from under the seat, twisting painfully as he was lifted out of the car, but he managed to shoot. Someone screamed, others of the monsters roared angrily and shrieked in horror, but before Masoud could see who or what he had hit, someone ripped the gun out of his hand, breaking at least two of his fingers in the process, and suddenly his feet lost contact with the ground.

Jussuf's scream was stuck in his throat from the shock and adrenaline. He kicked his legs, was almost dropped, which broke his resistance and made him reflexively cling to the arms that held him. Or rather his clothes. He forced himself to ignore the increasingly distant ground and the terrain with the storage rooms and instead raised his head. Nathaniel Sharif – even as a gargoyle, compared to others of his new species – did not strike him as impressive or strong. And yet he carried him. Higher and higher!

"Don't drop me! Don't drop me!" Masoud screamed.

The monster he was at the mercy of grinned.

"Killing you was the furthest thing from most of us! If you had surrendered and confessed, we would have shown leniency. But you will never stop, will you? No, your punishment will be to remain unheard and unseen for the rest of your life! With knowledge that no one wants to hear, that no one in their right mind will believe! Just as it happened to me in my suffering."

His wings made sounds like tarpaulins being shaken out as they fluttered, his jaws seemed tightly clenched from below, but his upward gaze was unshakable and unyielding.

With much more powerful wing beats, the largest gargoyle approached – Jussuf remembered again, his name was Goliath – as well as the turquoise fat fella and the red one with the beak. The other monsters were sweating and had pain-distorted faces, which only relaxed a little when they were all on the same level.

"Nate, our bodies aren't made for flying with flapping wings. By the dragon, how are you so fast and can rise so easily? Take it slowly, let the updrafts work for you before you strain all your muscles," the red one lectured him.

"Or we'll pull all our muscles," said the turquoise one, exhausted.

"He should land! I want to get back to the ground!" Masoud screamed, unable to estimate how high they were. The lights below them seemed miles away.

"You have no say in the matter, human!" Nathaniel growled.

His eyes glowed blue-white in his otherwise almost pitch-black face as his gaze fell on Jussuf. And suddenly his whole body was a source of light. Orange pulsating fire seemed to stream through the thousands of veins in his wings. And Jussuf, who was hanging on his arms over which the glowing veins were also crawling, screamed again as he felt the heat. He stretched out his arms to one of the other gargoyles, who were showing almost horrified expressions.

Goliath wanted to reach for Jussuf.

"You're on fire! Give him to me, Nathaniel!" he shouted over the whistling wind, and Jussuf began to kick again, would have fled even into the arms of the devil just to get away from his former victim.

"No!" thundered Nathaniel, angled his wings and slipped away.

The other two gargoyles were obviously more practiced and therefore similarly agile gliders. "Nathaniel, you're getting too angry! Let's descend," the turquoise one tried to soothe him gently.

"Yes! Down! Yes, please!" Masoud whined, and screamed even louder as a clawed hand let go of his clothes, Nathaniel making a sweeping gesture in the direction of the other gargoyles, who were then yanked away by a mighty gust of wind, performing dozens of somersaults.

"No!" cried Jussuf, who saw his last chance swept away. Nathaniel was furious! More than that- he was insane with rage and tolerated no appeasement. Again he beat his wings and updrafts that could not possibly be natural lifted the gargoyle and human at a rapid pace.

It was getting cold, Jussuf was vibrating and he didn't know whether it was terror or the frosty winds.

"Well? How do you like that, Jussuf?" the Gargoyle sneered. "Not being the master of your own destiny, feeling at the mercy of someone who can crush you!"

"Please! Please- you're not like that! You don't want to do this!" cried Jussuf, then clenched his teeth together because they hurt from the cold.

The gargoyle holding him laughed.

"You have no idea how I am! Not even I know who I can be! But I'm starting to get an idea. Let me try something! Welcome to the front row!"

With a painfully twisted neck, Jussuf watched the gargoyle close its eyes and apparently concentrate hard. Its panting breath produced hot smoke that was immediately blown away.

Jussuf saw the other gargoyles gliding towards him out of the corner of his eye, almost heard their calls. He wanted to call back, but suddenly everything around him flared up with a wall of Fire with him inside and he squeezed his eyes shut, screaming. When he opened them again three seconds later, it was by chance that his first glance went downwards. And he saw only thousands of tiny lights. They were SO much higher than before and the other three gargoyles were deep below them. Jussuf gasped for air but hardly any of it reached his lungs. The air up here was simply too thin. His voice was wheezing, almost choked, but the monster still heard him.

"Nate! Nate. You wa-want the money? You can have it. I'll go to prison, I'll go wherever you want me to g-go!"

"You bet you'll go where I want you to!"

"Stop! Stop! Please! Spare me!" cried Jussuf, his tears instantly blown away by the wind but the remnants freezing in his eyelashes.

"Just like you stopped? Just like you spared me?" the gargoyle shouted furiously, his hair catching fire with a loud puff and suddenly he let go of Jussuf.

The man, reduced to nothing more than a screaming, thrashing mass that was plummeting towards the earth to burst there, fell several hundred yards, past the other gargoyles, who reflexively rushed after him even though they all knew that stopping his fall abruptly at that speed would have broken their wings and at least broken Jussuf's neck. But a massive wind from below scattered the gargoyles in three different directions and at the same time reduced his speed of fall, even though all his bones were groaning under the strain. Suddenly, although he had not followed him, a fireball lit up the night sky again and the incandescent Nathaniel, emitting white clouds of smoke, grabbed him by the belt so that Jussuf could not even howl, although he thought he was being torn apart. After he had regained his breath, the words pattered from his lips.

"Na-Nasser! Please! You c-c-can't do that! I've gone t-too fa-far, much too far o-over the years! I o-o-only wanted to do you go-od."

"Has anyone ever told you that you sound like a retarded idiot when you stutter?" the blue devil purred dismissively and condescendingly, indifferent in a voice that sounded like him and yet was completely alien.

Before he lowered his ice-cold, pupil-less gaze back to him.

"Oh no. YOU told me that once."

"Nasser! Please, please, don't ma-make me fall again, please Nasser!"

Jussuf Masoud was roughly shaken until he whimpered.

"Be quiet, you cockroach! I hereby withdraw your permission to ever call our vessel that again. The name once meant something. It was spoken with affection and love by beings who were so much more decent than you! We will reclaim it today, as well as his life."

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Jussuf howled, almost out of his mind with fear, but also too afraid to be dropped again to be quiet.

"I ju-just wanted you to be n-normal and good for the f-family! I was like a bro- brol-brother to you""

"Brothers don't do to each other what you did to him. For years. You're right, Nathaniel couldn't have done this here. But you killed that Nathaniel. You broke his neck and threw him off the roof- remember? And then you went on as if nothing had happened. Why do you deny him the same thing ... brother?"

Jussuf looked at his former victim with teary eyes, unable to reply or simply too adrenalized to try to manipulate this creature, who spoke with three voices at the same time, any further. For this moment, he was a defenseless little mouse, not even able to squeak. Above them, the three other gargoyles came hurrying down, their wings tightly folded and calling across the wind. But he no longer thought that they could save him from the creature he was at the mercy of.

The fire demon made a disparaging sound. "Our clan is rushing to the rescue – how sweet they are and how much we will enjoy being in their midst. We love them deeply, our dearest and newest vassals. You, on the other hand... even among the human maggots, you are garbage. If we had been able to, we would have cremated you and scattered your ashes in all four directions of the sky at the first disrespectful word back in the day. NOW you are lucky that our vessel is reluctant to kill – gargoyle as he is. But like his mate, he is both merciful and cruel, which is truly delightful. Thus, you will wish you were dead – for the rest of your life."

With those last words, the creature (which Massoud now strongly doubted was a gargoyle) pulled him to his lips and pressed his burning hot mouth against his. Jussuf's eyes widened as something was released into him that ate through his tissues and into his innermost being, wrapping itself around his brain. He was already unconscious when the other gargoyles reached them.

"Nathaniel!" Goliath, who was closest to them, called out and saw how within a few moments the glowing light withdrew into their newest clan member and Nathaniel's body went limp in mid-flight and began to fall, along with the human in his claws. Now everyone was closer, their dive was abrupt but no bones were broken as Goliath caught Nathaniel and Broadway caught Masoud - both unconscious.

"What the hell was that!" Broadway shouted, staring at Nathaniel in Goliath's arms as if he had grown a third horn.

Brooklyn glided to his former clan leader, eyeing with a haunted look the bundle in his arms, which was, by gargoyle standards, so much smaller and more delicate than any of them except for Lexington. Now more than ever, since he had obviously fainted from exhaustion. Goliath saw the fear in Brooklyn's eyes, the old trauma that had cost him forty years away from his clan, the hesitation in his movements even in flight that made him appear so young.

"Rhydderch," Goliath said gently and insistently, his eyes questioning, strengthening and pleading at the same time. Brooklyn took a deep breath, looked at Nathaniel again, then overcame all his questions and doubts and stretched out his arms.

"Give me our brother, I shall carry him."

Goliath smiled, handed the blue gargoyle over, and touched Brooklyn's shoulder proudly, who accepted it with a hint of a smile. They both knew what the fireball had been. That had to be discussed. But not tonight.

Wuhahaha, revenge, sweet revenge! Remember, dear children (in case you didn't learn this at wicked villian school), never kill your enemies, that makes it too easy for them.

You realize- I'm tying red threads together, which shows that this book is coming to an end. Only two or three final chapters left, then there will be a time jump to 2009 and completely new stories that will continue to disturb you all. Enjoy!

Thanks for reading, Q.T.