The Committee for National Security
Chapter 1 - First Contact
6 Months after expulsion / June 5th, 1980
Midnight, June 5th, Pacific Time Zone
"These are actions we are taking, for the public good..."
Fresh Bush and the Invisible Man, "Hard Times"
Edmund Gerald Brown, Jr. [Democratic Party - California Governor (VOTED OUT)] — Near Travis AFB, Northern California — Dated June 5, 1980
Jerry Brown couldn't help but feel a sense of eeriness as he parked his car just a good half a mile away from Travis Air Force Base, over in the northern sector of California. A drag of a cigarette later—he always hated those things, eugh—and he found himself longing for something to do. Hell, he didn't even know what possessed him to do this trip. But ever since the 1980 Recall election, he had almost nothing to do. Those damn Republicans had stolen his gubernatorial seat away from him. He clenched his fist as he remembered that. So, fuck it. Might as well do something with the free time he was afforded.
The conversation that lead up to this—which happened about three months ago, Jerry mused—started off simple, Jerry mused. "You ever thought about seeing a plane show, Mister?" He recalled the words of this kid he met while waiting outside of a polling station. 'Twas, uh, some kid named Newsom. Gavin Newsom, apparently. Jerry told him no, and asked him why. "Well, friend always told me to think of planes when I'm stressed. Helps me calm down," He smirked at that. "Why don't you go try that, sometime?"
Now, Jerry never thought of that conversation for at least three more months. But, it just hit him back last night. As he lay in his apartment, the sweltering heat of summer scorching him on his bed. He suddenly thought about seeing planes from an Air Force base. "It doesn't really need to be a long trip, just see some planes." He told himself.
A while later, he found himself staring at the sky once more as planes saw themselves rotated in and out. He wasn't able to tell the difference in planes—to him, they were just shapeless blobs of grey that committed indiscriminate killing—but it made a calming sight to see, even as he dragged on a cigarette.
"A calming sight, is it not?" He heard a voice speak up behind him, a certain… Glowy feeling to her —yes, a her—voice. He could see—no, feel —light behind him as the voice chuckled. "What a beautiful world it is, child."
"Uh, thanks, ma'am," Brown responded as he turned around and tossed the cigarette down, crushing it under the heel of his boot. "I just came out here to sight-see, but I suppose… I can't help but disagree?" He awkwardly replied, still sitting on the hood of his car. "I'm, uh, Jerry Brown, by the way. Just a sight-seer. Your name?"
A soft laugh from the woman was his response. Now that he got a minute to look at her as she laughed, Brown couldn't help but feel alarmed as his brain slowed down to stop and think. Her outfit was something that no normal person would or should wear in this weather. A white, stainless labcoat covering a brown shirt, topping off with a… Comically short skirt. Or was that shorts?
Her expression didn't soften, which was a red flag to Brown. She closed her eyes and had this warm, bubbly, almost supernatural smile that never went away. And she had her eyes closed as she spoke to him. Alerted, Brown shifted from sitting on his hood to standing to look at her. Eyebrows raised in suspicion.
"Ma'am, you sure you're supposed to be here?" Brown asked, keeping his eye on the suspicious woman. Who almost seemed to… Glow. As if she was some sort of basking beacon of light. Something wasn't right. None of this was. "In fact, uh, how'd you know I was here?" He asked awkwardly. The woman's only response was to intensify the smile, and open her eyes-
Oh God. Those piercing red eyes shook something in Brown to his core as he found himself staring at her. "Worry not about my knowledge, child," She said, trying to sound warm and angelic. Brown could see through it. Something was wrong here. This wasn't supposed to be real. "I am but a messenger of the LORD GOD and the Saviour of Souls, Jesus Christ."
"...Uh…" Brown stepped back in response. "Ma'am. I… I don't think this is the right time-" He said as he turned around, preparing to get into his car- Suddenly, as he moved, Carmen appeared in the direction he turned around to in an instant, pressing uncomfortably into Jerry Brown's personal space, her warm smile morphing into a smarmy, insincere expression despite no physical change. "Fucking- How the hell?!"
"Question not the will of LORD GOD, child," She said as she extended her hand to Jerry Brown's mouth, hushing him. He stumbled back as the holy, glowing warmth of this- this thing pressed itself against his physical form. "Holy is is vision, Holy are those who understand his plans," She laughed as she spoke. "Unfortunately, child, it seems that you have yet to commit to the faith."
"W-What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Brown questioned as he stepped back in fear, eyes widening in surprise as she laughed in response to his question. "What the hell are you talking about, ma'am? Plans?" Shit. Was she an Angel? He wasn't supposed to- No! This wasn't real! As he retreated backward, his heel bumped into a rock, causing him to trip and fall on his back.
"Oh~ Your child has yet to understand your plans for him, oh LORD," She said. "I will permit one question, child. Do not disappoint a messenger of your LORD GOD." Her voice boomed as Jerry Brown found himself crawling backward in fear. No. No. None of this was real. He had to get out of here as soon as possible. Shit-
"Who the hell are you?!" He shouted, uncaring as he realized that he scraped himself on the rocks, as splotches of blood spilled into the nearby rocks. He shifted his head right as he attempted to take his vision off the woman- She just appeared to his right! His eyes widened in fear as she looked back at him. Giggling, she crouched down, her knees inches away from Brown's face.
"You may call me Carmen, messenger of LORD GOD," She said. "Now, child. I must go," She stood up and put her hands inside her pockets. "May we meet again, once you have been enlightened to the LORD GOD's plans for this world." She said. Brown immediately shifted his head left, pushing himself up with his left arm.
As he pushed himself up, he looked around for any trace of the woman who claimed to be a messenger of God. Panicked, he wheezed in and out repeatedly as his eyes kept scanning. Left. Right. Back. Center. Left. Right. Back. No trace of the woman. Shit. His wheezing calmed down as the woman's disappearance gave him some breathing room-
But shit. Who the hell was she? What the hell was that all about? Brown couldn't bring himself to answers. Shit. Alright, let's think, he thought. That woman… Carmen, yes. She appeared out of nowhere. We got that. Feeling like a glowing… Beacon, beacon… There was something glowing, almost… Light-like from her. He jotted that down as he put pressure on the wounds he received while scratched by rocks. She almost appeared and disappeared without… Yes. No movement at all.
Oh God. No. His eyes widened as he entertained the possibility of having faced an actual Angel while sightseeing over in California. No. This wasn't it. Please, God… The wheezing came back as he hurriedly opened the door to his car and immediately entered the driver's seat. He slammed it shut, and in a panic, swept left and right for any appearance of Carmen. If that woman was to be anywhere near him…
He felt chills as he swore he heard her voice just beside him, but as he swerved his head right in a panic, he found nothing there. In a panic, he collapsed into the steering wheel, arms covering his face as he breathed in and out repeatedly. "Did… Did I just… Please, no…" He muttered repeatedly. "I did not want to face an Angel… Please, God… Help me… Help me, Lord God…" He tightened his grip on his face as he-
A blue glow from the nearby Travis AFB penetrated through his panic-induced cowering on the steering wheel, and he raised his head, face in pain from tightening his grip on his face, to see what was going. To his shock, he saw a bright blue glow from Travis AFB, He shielded his eyes as the glow seemed to have a second phase to it-
He panicked as he felt the glow hit him and- What-? He felt the pain from his wounds disappear. Lowering his arms, his eyes widened in a panic as it seemed to be 'booming' again—almost like a shockwave. In a panic, he checked his suit- The scratches and the bleeding disappeared from his suit when he went to check it. "No- What the hell?!" He asked. He turned his eyes back to Travis AFB.
In no time, he shifted to reverse and slammed his foot on the pedal, reversing direction. Once he was confidently far away enough, he shifted gears to forward and made a hard-turn left by twisting the steering wheel with all his might.
As he focused on driving away, he felt the sweat beads on his forehead pour out gallons of sweat as he hurriedly drove away- Something that he's never done in his life. Yet, he found himself driving away from what might have just been the start of the end of the world. Looking at his fuel, he- His eyes widened in shock as it was almost empty.
Upon seeing the first gas station since he drove away from Travis AFB, he slammed the brakes as he parked near a fuel pump. He hurriedly got out of the car, panicking and wheezing all the way through. He pressed his hand on the hood. In and out. In and out. Breathe, Brown, breathe! Godfucking-
"Sir? Are you alright-?" A voice asked him from behind. In a panic, he turned around, expecting to see Carmen having stolen someone's voice- But no. What greeted him was an employee of the station—a Shell gas station, to be exact—looking confused. "Jeez, man. You look like you just saw the devil!"
"Hah…" He muttered as he wiped his nose. "You could say that," He muttered, refusing to elaborate as the employee spoke up. He didn't want to hear it. Taking out his wallet, he handed $15 to the employee. A cashier, he assumed. "No time to explain. Standard fuel. Keep the change." He said as the stunned employee paused, before hesitatingly accepted.
"Uh… Alright, sir," He meekly responded. "Have uh… A great day?"
He nodded as he went to the pump and the employee retreated back to the cash registry. Opening the fuel tank of his car, he jammed the pump in and let it loose, taking in one last breath as he finally felt safe. Around him, there was nothing but barren California land. And only this empty gas station to call civilized.
Yet, this couldn't explain what just happened to him. He glanced back at his car- Swearing he saw a reflection of Carmen on his window. But there was nothing there.
He grimaced as he watched the final price total up to 15$. Just what he got.
"I…" He said as he sighed and moved the pump back into its place. "I fear that I may have involved myself in things beyond…"
He rested his elbow on the car.
"I fear that I may have involved myself in things beyond simply being the governor."
Roland Orlando [The Library - Patron Librarian of General Works] — Floor of Social Sciences — Dated [UNKNOWN]
"Yeowch, you finally got me," Chesed laughed as he lay flat on Gebura's floor, having been swiftly defeated yet again by Gebura as the final round came to a close. Roland couldn't help but laugh in response, while Angela's entertained smirk kept him close to her as they watched Chesed being beaten up by one of the strongest women of The City. "That's the match…" He smirked as he pushed himself up. "Shows just how unmatched I am against ya, eh?"
"You ought to learn from the last time we had this, Chesed," Gebura muttered as she took a drag of a cigarette. "I would not advise you to test your luck as you grow. It would… Be very ill-advised to continue this behavior."
"As long as he's alive he'll always be the local gadfly," Netzach muttered, laying across 3 chairs arranged similarly to a couch, clutching a can of beer as he voiced his statement on Chesed. "I hate to say it Gebs, but it's pretty inherent in Chesed here."
"Hmph," She said. "Then perhaps he shall continue to have the lifespan of a mayfly as well."
"Ahh… Not like that matters since we have Miss Director over here-" He said as he pointed his thumb at Angela, who waved with a slight smirk. "I'll be the same ol-same ol' Chesed as long as I have a form, Miss Gebura."
A smirk from Gebura. "You are a bold one, Chesed." She said as she procured another cigarette. Chesed's smug looks about everything seemed to both irritate and amuse Gebura, Roland thought. He could tell. He had the similar thing happen with Angela- He smiled remembering the third month after they were expelled.
The angry yelling that almost everyone in the Library—bar Tiphereth, who was asleep the entire month, as well as Binah and Hokma, who were just amused by the situation—gave him a small giggle as Chesed stirred his coffee mug in the midst of Gebura's yelling.
He chuckled in response as he took a sip from his coffee mug one more time. "Bold indeed." He went back to stirring his coffee. "Why, I would say that it may be reflective of coffee flavoring- The bold ones always stand out the most, yet," Another sip. "They are always the ones ground up first and drunk. I suppose you could be called a brewer, Gebura."
"Piss off, you." She shot back in response. Roland smirked. Yep. Soon enough, they were going to be together. He shot a glance at Angela. She returned it with a small smirk of her own. Guess Tiphereth was correct when she said that the two of them shared one brain cell—not that either of them would've denied it!
As Gebura and Chesed continued staring off in the aftermath, Tiphereth flailed her arms around, getting attention to her from almost everyone. Roland couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. What was Tiphereth going to be talking about this time? Probably something related to-
"Are you trying to lose on purpose?!" Tiphereth yelled from her seat—a stack of 3 chairs, all arranged to tall-ify Tiphereth—something Roland always found amusing. "Those moves were sloppily placed, Chesed! It's almost like you enjoy losing! Gah!"
"On the contrary, young Tiphereth," Hokma opened up as he drank from a teacup—courtesy of Binah. "It seems as though he did not expect Gebura to fully commit to her attacks. Rather, he smugly assumed that it was Gebura who would have the sloppy moves."
"Don't assume things about me, old man~" Chesed waved Hokma off, who simply hardened his frown and continued to drink. Not dignified with a counterattack, Chesed deflated and sat down on his chair, as did Gebura. Hokma was always a hardass, Roland thought. Cultist? Yes. Gives a shit about mental health? Also yes. He helped calm Angela during the first few weeks of their, uh, situation—currently in its twelfth week—so that was a positive. But at the same time, he was also a nuisance when discussing Ayin.
The pains of being the new person in a group, Roland thought. At least he had Angela to stick by. And to serve as a mediator between Roland Hokma. That was always a plus. Better she talk on his behalf than he talk directly to that wacko. He may not be the Blue Sicko, but he's still, well, a wacko. Just in a way he can stomach.
However, as Chesed deflated, Binah, meanwhile, saw an opportunity to sneak in a snide comment. She sipped her tea one more time, staring directly into the eyes of Chesed. "Yet your entire existence makes it easy to assume things at a first glance—preferences included," Roland snickered and covered his mouth. Crude, but damn. That was like a sucker punch. "And it seems that your preferences include losing to women."
"See! That's what I've been saying!" Tiphereth said.
"The intent of my words is not correlating with your intent, young one." At that, Tiphereth exploded. An angry yell echoed throughout the room as Tiphereth's voice seemed capable of manifesting E.G.O. on its own. An impressive feat.
Roland chuckled. "Kid's going to get her voice an E.G.O. one of these days."
"I am not a child!" She glared at Roland in response, who laughed it off. Kids these days, he mused. Seemed that Binah had the same idea as she sipped her tea while Tiphereth bursted out once again. Just another day in the Library.
A cough interrupted whatever thoughts Roland had, before the source opened up. "Hehe… Tiphereth, it would be perhaps kind of you to not insist upon that…" Hod's voice spoke out, while Malkuth merely nodded. Roland looked around to see who else was there.
Surprisingly, he immediately saw Yesod just taking down notes. Surprising. He hasn't had anything to say for this entire fight.
Wonder what he's doing.
"It pains me to concur with Miss Hod," Binah noted as Hod shrunk upon hearing Binah say those words. "But I do agree, young one. As a great one once said, 'Temper, Temper.'" Binah said, as Tiphereth fumed and flailed her arms around.
"Where's that quote from?" Chesed asked, giving a sideways glance at Binah.
"Ah, an old tale about disproportionate response. A Wing's combat team took one casualty from Street Rats, so in response they annihilated the block that the perpetrators came from," She sipped her tea. "A combat team working with them only had the selected words to say once their carnage was finished," She sipped one more time. "Temper, temper."
"Ah," Hokma responded. "I believe that quote comes from a Hana Association combat team. 'Buck' as it was called."
"My gratitude eternal, Hokma," Binah responded. "I was not able to recall the quotation source."
"No issues, miss Binah."
Roland spoke up as he sat up from his chair. "I guess that's the match adjourned then?" He said as he stretched his hands. "Yeesh, Chesed. You and Gebs' fight showed me that you two need to get a room." He commented-
Of course, the moment he said that, he was immediately being met with embarrassment from the likes of Hod and Malkuth, a cold stare from Yesod, a snore from Netzach, amused smirks from Hokma and Binah, a slack-jawed and shocked expression from Tiphereth, a grin from Chesed, a glare from Gebura, and an amused smirk from Angela.
"...Tough crowd." He said.
"I thought it was funny, Roland." Angela said, giving him a smile.
"Of course you do!" Tiphereth said. "You get all touchy-feely with that man! Yaaagh!"
"Pray that I don't find you alone, Roland," Gebura muttered. "And pray your legs are protected when that happens."
"Aww, c'mon, Gebura! I thought it was funny!"
"Hmph," She said. "If you insist, Chesed," She grumbled. "But I will never forget it."
"Thanks."
Another grunt from Gebura was all he needed. Grinning, he stretched his arms and took one look at Angela. "I suppose it's back to the draft room for us, then?"
"Indeed it is," Angela responded as she stood up. "It is back to the draft room." She said as he held Roland's hand.
"You-! You!" Tiphereth screamed as she climbed down. "Don't make any noises while you're in that accursed room!"
"I try not to." This time it was from Angela.
"Aaaaaaargh-!" Tiphereth yelled, grabbing her hair-
Suddenly, as Tiphereth moved, she felt something shake—and immediately tripped, face-planting into the ground. Roland chuckled at the inconvenient timing of-
Suddenly, as he moved to check on Tiphereth, he felt another shake too, throwing his feet off balance and causing him to impact the floor, landing on the left side of his head. He felt pain immediately, as everyone ceased their chuckling.
"Roland! Tiphereth!" Angela shouted. "Are you both oka-" As she said that, the ground shook—this time with an increased intensity—and caused her to lose her balance, falling into a chair. "Shit-!"
"What the hell-" Netzach opened up as he got up from his chair-couch hybrid- Only to immediately faceplant into the ground as the shaking started to become a vibration. A really intense vibration, too.
"What's going on?!" Angela said as the ground began to shake and move—something that shouldn't have happened! "What's happening to the Library?!"
"Didn't the Head eject us already-!" Hod said as she lost her balance after stumbling on a chair and slamming her head into the ground. "Ouch-"
"Damnit-" Hokma said. "Grab onto something! Hide under the chairs!"" He shouted as he dropped his teacup laid down, grabbing onto his chair and putting himself underneath it—not enough to cover him, but enough to stop him from being slammed with debris to the face.
"Just-" Roland turned over and found himself crawling to his chair, before moving into it and grabbing it by its legs. He glanced over to see that almost everyone had done the same, hiding under a chair and holding onto it by the legs as the Library shook in an apparent earthquake. Except for Binah-! Damn that woman. Bold as always.
"What the hell is happening?!" Tiphereth shouted as she found herself clinging to the legs of her three-chair stack hybrid. "A-Are we being expelled a second time?!"
"Where the hell would we be relocated to?!" Roland shouted as objects began to fall around, eyes widening in fear as a pile of books narrowly missed him. "Shit! Angela! Everything's falling apart!" He stated as the shaking threatened to collapse the entire area.
In a panic, Roland looked at Angela… And breathed in, panicking. "Angela! Put us in books!"
"What?!" Almost every Librarian—Angela included—looked at Roland bemused- Only for that to subside when a pile of books slammed into Tiphereth's legs, a shrill shriek erupting from the girl as she felt her legs being crushed.
"Book us!" Roland said, before his grip on his chair legs was lost as a pile of books overturned it, before a pile started slamming into Rola-
Roland's feeling suddenly ceased to be as Angela booked all of the Librarians, understanding that she could remanifest them at any time. As the books slammed into her, Angela realized that she could clear them out—but she couldn't exactly stop the shaking. For some reason, it was out of her control-
Her vision was clouded as another pile of books landed on her, cutting her vision off-
But she could still breathe.
That was all that mattered. She moved her hand around, only managing to stick it up amidst a pile of books. But, knowing that she wasn't going to be rescued, she opted to retract her hand. She sighed deeply as she lay underneath a pile of books.
She was going to be here for a while, she reasoned. It was better to wait for the shaking to stop.
Then, she would clean everything up, and remanifest everyone. That was the plan. She breathed in and out. Better to trust in it.
Trust in it.
Trust. In. It.
Trust…
…How long was this going to take, again?
George Herbert Walker Bush [United States Government - Central Intelligence Agency Director] — Outskirts of Seattle, Washington State — Dated June 5, 1980
12:00 AM. George Bush checked his watch once again in the bar as he waited for Archer to contact him. Glancing over the soda bottle that he ordered, he felt almost out of place in the bar he settled in for contacting Archer. I mean, he thought, it was convenient, it offered me a place to get a drink… And most of all, it was the perfect place for the chatter to be covered up by loud patrons cheering.
That was the benefit of a sports bar, he mused. He fidgeted with the soda bottle, such as placing his eye close to it, as if to examine the bottle itself. What he ordered was a fairly simple drink, something to start off the new day.
And by that, he meant Mug Root Beer.
"Man," He muttered as he drank the last drops. "I've never had root beer like this before." He smiled as he placed the bottle down. Looking around, he saw a group of people looking on at this year's sports event. Something about athletics, apparently.
Screw it. Might as well go ask what it is, he thought. Better to be glued than to be bored while waiting for Archer. Amused, he stood up and walked over to their section, eyes glued to the TV as he did so.
"What's this all about?" He asked.
"NCAA's athletics championship!" One of them shouted. "UTEP's leading the score!" Raising an eyebrow, he glanced back in the screen. All he could really see were people—people he didn't really know, unfortunately—running. "It's their outdoor track and field competition!"
"I see," George Bush stated as he examined it further. "Anything entertaining or deviating happen on that, then?"
"Nah, not really," The same person responded. "Just- Oh. One of them tripped- Nevermind what I said."
George Bush winced at that. "Mhm," He nodded. "Noted." He said as he turned around, looking to go back to his seat-
He winced as he felt the urge to go answer nature's call. Christ. Hurriedly, he power-walked to the bathroom only to wince as he saw it was in maintenance. "Damnit," He rubbed his face in disappointment. "Okay. New plan." He muttered to himself as he turned around and headed to the bar's entrance. Looking around, all he could see was a phonebooth to his left- Which was next to some bushes and shrubbery.
And to his right was just more buildings. Of course, given what he intended to do, Bush opted to turn left, making another turn to the left as soon as he left the edge of the building. Glancing around left and right, he saw that nobody was there to observe him.
"Ahh…"
Nature's call was finished in an instant. He put his outfit back together and walked back into the bar-
Or, at least. That was what he was supposed to do.
His attention was diverted from returning to the bar the moment he heard the telephone in the telephone booth ringing. That… Wasn't supposed to happen. He mused. Didn't telephone booths- No. They weren't supposed to receive calls.
Jesus.
He carefully approached the telephone booth, hand shaking as he looked around, hoping that he wasn't in some sort of bad, alcohol-induced dream. He stopped. Had he been drinking? He retracted his arm. It wasn't normal for things like this, no-
"It appears that you have weathered the test, child." An almost angelic woman's voice behind him spoke. Bush got the chills hearing this woman speak. Then, she chuckled. Tensing up, Bush sensed something was off. He clenched his fist and turned around, readying himself in a fighting stance as he expecte-
What he did not expect to see was a woman in a labcoat, a brown shirt, and a short skirt to be greeting him. Hell, she was seemingly unaffected—unbothered, more likely—by the rain of Seattle, which pissed him off. Something was wrong. He frowned as he raised his fists up. "Who are you and what the hell do you want?" He asked authoritatively as his fists balled up to be ready for combat. She snickered in response to Bush—something which greatly infuriated him.
"I'll only ask this once again," He opened up as he opened his right fist only to tightly clench it one more time. "Who the hell are you and what the hell do you want?!" He shouted. Her only response was to step forward, a toxic and glowering smile on her face as she moved in to close the distance between George Bush and her-
Unhesitatingly, he threw a punch her way with his left fist- Only for her to dodge it as she swerved to her left. Bush's eyes widened in fear as she so easily swerved- With her eyes closed, too! He pulled back and threw a right-hand punch at her- Shit. That one missed! He immediately aimed for an uppercut with his left fist instea-
He was alarmed when the woman easily grabbed his left fist and simply pushed it away. This woman-! How the hell?! Bush stepped back, fists raised and still ready to fight as the woman closed his distance with her. "Don't come any closer-!" He panicked. His fists were shaking as the woman, unflinching, continued her advance.
"I'm warning you! Stand back!" He shouted. She simply gave him a chuckle in response- Seeing as he had nowhere else to go, and it's most likely that if he continued to retreat he'd back into a car and die- He grunted and tightened his fist. Furrowing his eyebrows and grimacing, he prepared to actually dedicate to fighting to her.
"I warned you, ma'am!" He shouted as he marched forward. He immediately threw a punch at her- His eyes widened and mouth opened, slack-jawed, as she grabbed his left fist. In a panic, he threw his right fist- She caught that one almost immediately. No. Bush's eyes widened with fear and sweat poured down his face in combination with the rain-
"My, my, child~ You are a bold one," She giggled.
"Wh- What the hell are you?!" George Bush asked as he found himself unable to escape her grasp. She seemed to have an extremely tight grip on his fist- Shit. Shit. SHIT! She was KGB! Fucking KGB caught onto him! But- His eyes widened as he scanned the area around him. How the hell-
"What is your name, child of God~?"
"What the hell are you?!"
"I said," She muttered, before tightening her fists, crushing Bush's fists and overwhelming it with pain- Bush screamed as her fists broke through his- The pain! Bush was on the verge of crying with widened eyes- "What is your name, child of God~?"
Panicking and wishing for the pain to recede- He yielded as he yelped one more time. "G-George! It's George Bush!" He shouted- Almost immediately she let go of her grasp on his fists, releasing them from agonizing pain. Bush immediately collapsed to the ground in pain, looking at his damaged hands.
"P-please! Stop!" He shouted. Christ, the pain! "Wh-what the hell-"
"George Bush, eh~?" She crouched down to meet his face, her piercing red eyes burrowing deep into his soul- As he peered into those dark, orbs- The screams of thousands reverberated in his head. The smell of sulfur and brimstone assaulted his nose. He could feel damnation as he stared deeply into her- "That will not do."
"W-What?" He said.
"Thy name shall no more be George Bush," She said, grinning. "Thy name shall no more be called Bush, but Israel, for thoust hath power with LORD GOD's messengers and men, and hath lost."
No. This was wrong. That was no messenger of God. That- He stared into the soul of the Devil herself. The devil was a woman. "N-no-"
"This location shalt be deemed Penuel upon the day of purification, Israel," She said as she stood up and turned around. "For you hath seen a messenger of LORD GOD face-to-face, and hath been enlightened."
He tensed. Enlightened? He quickly mobilized his feet to kick him back- Away from this woman! Away from the She-Devil! He placed his hands on the ground and moved away- "What the hell do you want with me?!"
"Thou shalt see, when the plans of thy LORD GOD advance," She said, shooting one last glance at George Bush. "Until then, farewell, Israel." She said, crossing her arms as she walked off- Eventually turning right at an alleyway, and- Disappearing.
As he looked at his broken hands, she better have disappeared, he thought. Lying on the ground, in a de facto sitting position was just not something that he-
"Holy shit," A voice broke out behind him. Panicked, he turned around, fully expecting- His breathing slowed once he realized it was Archer- At least, it matched the photo he was given. Yet, beside him were two people unfamiliar with- What the fuck was that getup?
As Archer moved over to help pick him up, Archer glanced at his first accomplice. A man in a slick,black suit with a white undershirt and a black tie. His hair, messy as it was, was now soaking wet with rain as he stood without a raincoat. "Help him up." Archer asked, taking Bush's right arm.
"You got it," He responded, joining Archer in taking Bush's right arm. "Netzach, take the left." He said, Bush turning around to look at who-
"Yeah- Jeez." 'Netzach' responded, looking at Bush as he took his left arm. He got an angle at him- Bush recoiled as he looked at Netzach. Draped in a green overcoat and a white shirt, this man who was rescuing him raised multiple red flags as he gave more time to think about his appearance. That hair color was not natural, Bush mused. And that hair style… Was this man a homosexual-
He snapped himself out of that train of thought. Not the time for that question, he mused. Cooperating, Bush felt himself being lifted up slowly. Taking a deep breath, Bush looked at his hands, severely in pain and- He feared they might've been swelling. He glanced back at the people who rescued him.
"Who the he-" Bush opened up, looking directly at Archer, only for one of them to cough, getting his attention instead.
"No time," The one in green—Netzach, if he remembered correctly—interrupted him. He shot a look at the one in black. "Roland. You see her anywhere?"
"No," He muttered. "She disappeared into that alleyway- But I think she's long gone by now."
"Damnit."
"Who the hell was that woman?" Archer opened up, asking a question that Bush wanted to ask. He almost opened up his mouth to ask another question, but he was interrupted by the man in a black suit—Roland—looking at him in the eye.
"A better question would be what was that woman," He said. "Listen, mister. Whoever you are. You've just found yourself in something you shouldn't have seen."
What the hell was this? Some sort of- If this was under the jurisdiction of the CIA, he would've known! But this wasn't in any of his books anywhere- Or in any of the CIA reports at all! This- What the hell was that thing?! Bush looked at his hands, and looked back at the two people.
"J-just- What the hell was she?" He asked Netzach and Roland, the two sharing a glance at him and Archer before coughing. Roland sighed and shook his head in response, mouthing what seemed to be 'unlucky'.
"Someone you shouldn't have seen," He said. "Listen. We need to get to somewhere crowded and safe- He told me about this bar, yeah?" He said, glancing back at the bar. Bush nodded as he nursed his injuries. "Then let's move."
As they moved into the bar to rest and recuperate, Bush shot a glance at Roland, a frown on his face.
He returned the favor. "I saw that you stared into her eyes," He muttered, grimacing. "Tell me. What did you see, mister?"
Bush clenched his fist—the pain be damned—and closed his eyes as he came back to the mental images of what happened as he peered into her eyes. Screaming. Burning . Hellfire. Inferno. Damnation. All flashed back into his head as a sudden headache seemed to hit him the moment he entered the bar. In response, he looked back at Roland.
"I stared at the Devil herself, and I fear…" He paused to look at the ground, eyes watering. "I fear that I may have condemned myself for eternity for my foolishness."