Welcome to Gaia! ::

oh...i love your story! whee 4laugh i'm almost finish with the second chappy and i'm posting that pic of the characters i made...i wish i could write as much as you...darn my brain....i think i'll make gererd come out in the 3rd or something. 3nodding

Chapter 8.3

Standing almost as tall as the twelve-foot arch around him, the creature in the doorway loomed over Gerard like a monolith. The light of the house to its back, Michelle could only make out two tiny black eyes in the shadow cast across its face, but she could tell there was something there that wasn't human. A quick flash of pink shot out from its mouth and then vanished again.

A forked tongue? Michelle thought. What is this thing?

As if answering her silent question, the creature bent low over the group, reaching its hand out in greeting. Gerard returned the friendly gesture with a smile.

“I'm glad you could stop by.” said the beast. It was then that Michelle recognized the voice as that of the man on the intercom.

“As am I, Dr. Sion,” Gerard started, “but I wish we could come with better tidings.”

Sion looked over Gerard and to the stretcher Mikey and Bob were carrying. His face turned somber when his eyes fell on Frank.

“Bring him in.” He held the door open so they could enter easily.

Just as Michelle passed through the archway, she heard the faint roar of thunder in the distance.

“Forecast said sunny skies for a week.” Sion muttered to no one in particular. “Shows how much the implements of men are good for.” He shut the great wooden doors silently, their well-oiled hinges not emitting a single creak as they swung closed.

Michelle couldn't help but stare in awe at Sion as he moved gracefully down the corridor, the hem of the scarlet robe he wore brushing gently against the floor. His hands hung out from the embroidered edges of the garment, revealing the moss green scales of his flesh and four wickedly curved charcoal claws. Designs of gold thread were sewn into the cerise fabric, curving asymmetrically over his back and across his shoulders. It took a few moments for her to pry her eyes off him, but eventually she managed to, and when she did, her eyes began soaking up the elegance of the colossal manor.

It's ceiling soaring high into the air, the incredible main room gave little doubt to the fact that this magnificent place had once been a church. Gallant arches lined every wall, leading back into hallways pocketed with chapels. Where the pews had once been, bookshelves were packed in tightly, creating a maze of corridors that looked nigh impossible to navigate. In some places, as many as four shelves were stacked on top of each other, supported by affixed steel rods that held them together and kept them from toppling to the ground far below.

From the roof hung hundreds of paintings and weavings, their images large enough to be seen all the way from the floor. A large mural was painted across the central dome of the room, including everything from cherubim to demons, from angels to vampires. Nearly everywhere she looked, Michelle's eyes caught the protective presence of the cross, whether it be painted, crafted , or carved. The largest such symbol hung low above the center of the altar, its length easily the height of two, maybe even three, stories.

In the nooks and crannies that were the chapels, she saw dozens of sacred characters portrayed flawlessly as statues, their marble eyes staring out watchfully over the inhabitants of the house. They were escorted by hundreds of stone angels and saints, the likenesses of which were spread out over the entire layout of the nave.

As the group followed Sion down the cleared center isle of the library, they passed by a Baptismal font made entirely of glass. Michelle gazed over its expertly forged design and wondered how a thing of such beauty could be created by human hands. Then again, maybe it wasn't.

Passing around the circular altar and into the choir, she saw that the room's distinctive centerpiece was hidden by a delicate white veil. She couldn't help but wonder what was hidden back there, but she decided that if Sion had taken the trouble to cover it, there must be a good reason for it. They continued on, trudging up and over the high altar and back into the rear chapel.

This room was slightly less cluttered than the library, but its ceiling was much lower, giving it a more confined feeling. A small stained glass window depicting the Last Supper was positioned in the center of the chamber's east wall. The downpour that had started outside kept up a torrential onslaught against the vivid panes, drowning out the low rumble of the accompanying thunder.

“Set him on the ledge.” Sion ordered, indicating one of two stone tables located on either side of the room. It was built next to a life-size statue of the Virgin Mary, her hands held together in prayer.

Bob and Mikey did as he commanded, placing the stretcher carefully on the bench. A small trickle of blood rolled down the edge of the canvas, pooling at the corner, then dropping silently to the floor below.

Sion flicked a switch by the doorway and immediately the room was flooded with light. Frank groaned a little, trying weakly to move his hand up to cover his eyes.

Now that she could see, Michelle had a clear, head-on view of Sion and she could witness what she hadn't seen before. The hood of his robe down, she caught sight of the jagged spines growing from the crest and chin of his reptilian head, as well as his powerful fanged jaws. His clothing, tailored from what at some point would have probably fit a human, had two extra sleeves sewn level with his abdomen. It wasn't until then that she noticed the extra, shorter set of arms growing below his others.

“And you didn't tell me Sion was a dragon why?” Michelle whispered in Ray's ear.

“Honestly thought it didn't matter.” he replied.

“How could it not matter? I thought they were extinct.”

“Most people do. Well, actually, most people don't even believe in them in the first place, but that's beside the point. Just because the dragons died out on Earth for a short period of time doesn't mean that they disappeared forever.”

Now Sion was bent over Frank, his tiny eyes examining the Varatis growth. With his extra appendages, he lifted the infected limb up closer to his face as his principal arms made the sign of the cross over his chest.

“An infection I've seen far too recently.” Sion mumbled to himself. He pressed a claw gently into the welt on Frank's palm, retracting instantly when the wound started to bleed. “Fortunately,” he began, turning to face the rest of the group, “the disease is in its infancy and can be cured easily.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Gerard asked hopefully.

“The cure itself is really quite simple. Recuperation, however, can take anywhere from an hour to a day to a week to as long as a month.”

“A month?” Gerard was aghast. “We don't have a month.”

“It is not up to me to decide.” Sion said, shaking his head sadly. “I can begin treatment tonight, but I cannot make any promises as to when he will be healthy again.”

Gerard cursed softly.

“If it's any consolation,” said Sion, his head almost hitting the ceiling as he stood up, “I believe I know what has done this to your friend.”

“An Imperial demon.” Bob said, nodding. “We already know.”

“Indeed,” Sion consented. “but that is all you know, yes?”

“We've been searching for information on it, but we're coming up with nothing. That's why we were originally going to come to you.”

“I see.” Sion made his way over to the light switch and turned it off. He walked back to the chamber's open door and motioned for them to come.

“Follow me, if you will.”

Leaving Frank on the table, they moved quietly towards Sion.

“I have something to show you.”

Sion led them out of the chapel and back into the library, retracing the path they had taken initially. Within ten yards of the main entrance, he took a sharp right turn down another open passageway through the bookshelves. Gerard, Mikey, Ray, Bob, and Michelle struggled to keep up with the doctor's massive stride. Up ahead they could see one of the room's many archways, leading into what looked like another ambulatory. Sion ducked a little as he passed through the adjoining chamber's doorway, taking care not to scratch the stunning woodwork on the door frame with the sharp quills on his skin.

This new room was lit by the small chandelier that hung in the center of the room, its edge rimmed with nine glowing candles. Below it, a tremendous grotto-like shaft dropped down into the earth, its walls speckled with sparkling crystal and geodes. Suspended from the ceiling by a series of dense steel cables and pulleys, a hefty lift dominated the main part of the hole, its sides lined with railings to prevent any mishaps.

The platform itself was easily large enough to hold four creatures of Sion's size, so fitting the small group onto it was a cinch. Sion pressed a button on the mechanism's control panel and the lift began its descent.

“So...” Gerard's voice trailed off. “Are you going to tell us where we're going or is it part of the surprise?”

“You should know by now I have a flare for the dramatic, Gerard.” Sion replied with a tight grin. “And besides, I believe so may be interested in what I am about to show you.”

The lift slowed to a stop. Passed its gate, they could see a hollow in the grotto's wall where another passage had been dug.

“I'm guessing these didn't come with the church?” Ray asked, indicating the tunnels.

“The stairs were a bit too narrow.”

They followed Sion again, which was easier this time as he had to move slower on account of the corridor's low ceiling. The dirt floor of Sion's tunnel shifted to brick as they reached the man-made part of the basement, and they instantly felt a breath of cold air brush against their faces.

“Hell of a draft you've got down here.” Gerard muttered.

Sion chuckled. “You can credit that to our guest.”

“Guest?”

“She proved a little too hostile to keep upstairs in the guest quarters, so I've had her placed in the catacombs.”

“What exactly are you planning on showing us?”

Sion stopped. “See for yourself.” He made a gesture to the left. “You're standing right next to her.”

The entire group turned as one. Before them sat a rounded cave, its entrance blocked with iron bars. The narrow door was padlocked shut and looked impervious to damage. A line of what looked like blood was painted across the ground by the base of the bars, a measure they assumed had a much more spiritual use than physical.

However, it was the cage's inhabitant that quickly caught their eyes. As they looked into the hollowed prison, Michelle knew immediately who it was.

“Katie.” she whispered, so softly that none of the others even heard her.

oh,well cry easy come easy go.

Chapter 9.1

At the same time on the other side of the country, in the small town of Selene, California, the sky was clear and the sun was out, going down in its final blaze of glory before twilight. However, the gentle calm outside the town's police station was broken by shouts of hatred and anger, spewed forth by the violent mob that fought to break inside. The only thing that stood between the growing horde and the sheriff's department was a narrow line of cops and state troopers, their riot gear at the ready in case the group made any attempt to move closer. Screams of hostility and malice erupted from the seething crowd, their loathing driven by the nonstop prodding of the mob's frenzied leaders.

“Kill it!” one woman at the front of the mass shrieked. “Kill it before it kills us!”

“Back to hell, demon!” a young priest cried out, waving a wooden crucifix in the air. “How dare you defile the children of God?”

“We should burn it at the stake!” A group of teens cried out. Their suggestion was met by roars of approval from the crowd.

“Burn it! Burn it!” they began to chant. Half of the mob carried weapons, ranging from stones they'd simply picked off the ground to a series of men toting loaded shotguns. They held them high, threatening the frightened police to stand aside.

Inside the police station, three cops remained as last resort defenses against the infuriated townsfolk. They stood spread out through the building, their weapons drawn and their minds prepared to use lethal force if necessary. The swarm outside was baying for blood and the police had little doubt that it could get that bad.

“They're everywhere.” Deputy Adam Matthews gulped. This was only his first week on the force and he had officially decided that once this was all over, it would also be his last.

“Just take it easy.” Will Friedrick cautioned from across the room. “Backup's on the way from LA. They should be here some time in the next hour.”

“Do you think they'll stay back that long?”

“We can hope.”

Will made his way over to the jail cells in the rear of the building, leaving Adam to bicker with his partner in the main room. The back of the structure was lit by a single low-hanging fluorescent lamp, its narrow beam of illumination casting distorted shadows over the boxes and shelves that lined the warehouse-like space. In the dim light, he could see the lone figure huddled in the furthest corner of the prison, her body curled in on itself in defense.

“Um, hey.” Will whispered as he crouched down next to the bars. She lifted her head cautiously, revealing a dark, tear-soaked face.

“Hey.” she said, smiling a little.

“How you holding up?”

“Pretty good.”

“That's... good.”

Both knew things weren't going well, but neither wanted to talk about it. Instead, an unsettling quiet fell over the room, seeming to widen the gap between them even further.

“They want to kill me, don't they?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.

“No, Melody, it's not like that.”

“Yes it is. I can hear them. Outside.”

“It's not your fault.”

“Then why?” she pleaded. “Why do they want to hurt me?”

“They – they're afraid of you.”

“I told them. I told them the truth. Why didn't they stop?”

“That's not why they're scared. People are afraid of what they don't understand. Always have been, always will.”

Melody shook her head weakly, her ebony hair rubbing against the chestnut skin of her cheeks. “I don't want to be this.”

“It's gonna be alright.” Will said comfortingly. “We'll find someone who can help you. You're going to be fine.”

“But what if I'm not?” Melody pleaded. “You weren't there that night. You didn't see what what they saw. What I did.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“You don't understand!” she cried. “You have no idea what it feels like. This thing inside of me, every second it gets worse. At first I didn't have any control, but now... now it's making me want it. Crave it. Last night, it didn't make me kill. I... I chose to. It was my fault!”

At first, Will didn't know how to respond. He was torn between sympathy and revulsion, both sides tugging at him with equal strength. He had known Melody for twenty years and he had always trusted her. But this was different. This wasn't just another fight or a disagreement. She isn't even human anymore, thought Will. How do I know she's even the same person?

“You're wrong.” Will finally managed to reply. “Even if it feels like you're the one doing this, I know you're not. You're the most selfless person I've ever met and I know you would never do something like that. Ever. You'd give your own life to save another in a heartbeat. No matter what that thing does to you, no matter what it says, you'll always be in there – the sweet, caring girl I've known all my life. And none of this - absolutely none of this – will ever be your fault.”

Melody burst into tears, running forward and throwing her arms through the bars. She embraced Will tightly, sobbing into his shoulder as he ran a hand through her hair. For a second, Melody forgot about the terror around her. She felt invincible under Will's protection.

“I love you.” she whispered.

“I love you too.” Will replied, his eyes watering. And for that fleeting moment in time, it was the only thing that mattered. Sadly, both he and Melody knew that these feelings were not meant to last.

The thunderous explosion of a gunshot shattered the temporary state of bliss, its sound ringing off the walls and tearing at Melody's ears. She lurched backwards, letting go of Will and retreating from the bars.

Standing in the doorway to the back room, their weapons raised in enmity, was the bloodthirsty mob. They advanced slowly, their eyes never leaving Melody for a second.

“Will.” she whimpered. “Will, do something.”

Will didn't respond. He just sat there, his head hung low over his chest.

Melody inched forward, setting her hand on the side of his face. “Will? Will, are you -” Her hand felt a warm sensation pass over her fingers. She pulled it back and shrieked in panic as she watched the vermilion tint of blood flow down her knuckles. “No...” she moaned. “No, Will, you can't...”

Will's head lolled to the side, exposing the gaping bullet wound in the back of his skull. His lifeless body fell to the ground in a sickening heap, where it lay motionless in the growing pool of crimson around it.

“No!” Melody screamed. “Will!”

“He forfeited his life the moment he sold himself to the devil.” Melody looked up to see the young priest standing at the front of the crowd, rifle clutched firmly in his right hand. “May God have mercy on his soul.”

Convulsing with sobs, Melody fought to stand up. Her last friend in the world now dead, the sorrow in her heart quickly turned to anger.

“As for you, demon,” the priest continued, crossing himself with his free hand, “the spawn of Satan shall be banished back to Hell where it belongs!”

Melody licked her lips. Will had made the hunger in her stomach tolerable before, but with nothing left to hold on to, she felt the last ounces of her humanity slipping away. They stole your life, the creature inside her hissed. They took everything you had. Now they want to finish the job. But you're not going to let them do that, are you?

No, she thought instantly. They're not going to take anything else.

The priest set aside the gun and drew a sharpened wooden stake from the inside of his jacket. Another member of the mob handed him a claw hammer, which he graciously accepted.

“You want to play, Father?” the beast growled through Melody's throat. “Name the game.”

“Leave her now, demon!” the priest exclaimed.

“Heh. I think not.”

He stepped forward. “I said leave!”

“No.”

“Now!”

“What part of 'no' do you not understand?”

“Enough of this!” a man from the crowd cried. “Kill it now!”

Plucking up the courage to move closer, he walked straight up to the bars and grabbed Melody by the neck. She let him drag her forwards, her lips curved in a malicious smile.

Raising the stake over his head, he began reciting the last rights.

“You do realize that demons can't go to heaven?” Melody asked unamusedly. “You know, just saying...”

Do you really want to sit here and listen to this?

No.

Then do it now.

Without warning, Melody thrust her head through the bars, sinking her teeth into the priest's neck. He screamed in pain, his hands flying up to try and wrench her away from his throat. Instead, she dug deeper into his flesh, relishing the taste of his vital fluids.

When she had drank her fill, she pulled her neck back and watched with morbid pleasure as his body slid down onto the floor next to Will's. The rest of the mob stood perfectly still, their mouths agape with horror.

Perfect, the demon laughed. Now, how to dispose of the rest?