Ascent, p.3
Ascent, page 3
part #2 of The Lit Series Series
The Lover sauntered through the dimly lit crimson room towards Marco’s damaged and writhing body. Chelamah knew that the bloodlust of the Wraith must be satisfied. Two motives, two desires working towards one outcome. The Wraith needed to kill… the woman needed to save. The most precarious moment had arrived. Chelamah would have to hand complete control to the creature. The Wraith’s form began to change. Now becoming smoke-like and vaguely transparent. Unseeable by the dominant monster that now proceeded towards the bound man.
The pain had dulled in Marco’s mouth to just barely below agony. She had torn at his chin with her jagged teeth. It was gone, replaced with the dual sensation of dried blood and thicken, congealed gums where once his lips and right cheek used to be.
She had lain beside him. Her dead white eyes had stared into his. She had whispered sweet and loving secrets into his ear as her long, vicious nails emasculated him - slowly, methodically. He was violated and defiled. Fixtures and apparatus of various forms were attached to his body that periodically clicked and twisted into life, penetrating further into him.
I love you. I will always love you.
Marco’s eyes, wide and panicked, locked onto the graceful form that glided towards him. There was a moment of panic, a brief thrashing before exhaustion caused his muscles to spasm. The bound man closed his eyes, turning his head away from the monstrous woman as he braced himself for the attack.
The Lover looked down at him, her head swaying to the side in a swoon. She smiled, her mouth contorting into a mutated coy simper.
Lay with me
The Lover gently turned as she sat next to her victim. He felt her weight. He groaned and shuffled sideways, but his resignation was complete. His breathing increased. His eyes stared blankly into the scene around him. Slowly she placed her hand on his torn face. He flinched as the ripped skin began to seer and burn under her touch. What little movement was allowed, brought a change of quality to his pain which could be mistaken for relief as her hand wrapped around the bloodied mound that once were his genitals. She caressed the torn flesh, sweetly, tenderly as he began to thrash in new, unparalleled agony.
The Wraith moved like a wisp of smoke to the ceiling above them. The man screamed out in pain. A tormented sob bought the Wraith’s murderous desires to the fore. It would be quick, sudden with certain death. There was no room for error. There must be no mistake.
If Marco had looked, he would have seen the white eyes of the spectre as it regained its physical form. It reached down toward him. Its legs attached to the ceiling above as it brought a long arm above the Leviathan's head. Marco writhed. His eyes opened and stared up. For a second he noticed the glint of solid metal above the Lover. The knife, real and uncloaked, brought recognition of the Wraith’s true form. His eyes widened. He knew what it was and knew why it was there. It had to act.
The Wraith dropped onto the man's torn body. The knife slashed the man's throat bringing forth a spray of arterial blood. Accurate and fatal. It lowered its face, relishing Marco’s guttural death gasp. Taking it deep into its body with a euphoric heave. Blood turned the Leviathan’s arm red as the spent knife disintegrated to dust. It was done. He was dead. The pure bliss of satisfaction turned immediately to thoughts of survival. Now the Leviathan knew. Now the Leviathan could see it, and its rage would be unchecked.
The room erupted in screams and heat. The Lover’s arm reached above her with lightning speed as the Wraith turned to shadow barely escaping her grasp. The room now lit by an alien, red glow as the Lover stood. Her eyes scanned her world looking for the intruder within. The one who had committed such an outrageous act.
Hunched like an insect, hidden amongst the humanesque forms on the floor, the Wraith lay still. Two things to be achieved: survival and escape. The Lover too, stood statue-like. Her white eyes blinked rapidly as the room was engulfed in the deep, crimson red. Human remains about the Wraith began to rise. Its gruesome hiding place amongst the tortured mutilated humans began to lift. It had experienced this before. The Leviathan knew what it was facing and was searching for it.
The Lover walked through the room, her hands slashing at the tortured forms rotating about her. The Wraith scuttled backwards, watching the Leviathan. The closer the Lover moved towards it, the more it retreated with supernatural stealth. It could feel the bare floor behind as it edged further and further into a darkness.
It was at this moment, when the Lover’s domain faded into black, that Chelamah looked down at her arms in disbelief. She stood horrified to see her human hands. This was not supposed to happen. Not yet. Her heart began to pound… her human heart. The Wraith had gone but where was she?
Panic-stricken she glanced around her into nothing but darkness, an airless place. Horrified, the sound of heavy grinding forced her to spin to face a large, vibrating wooden door that was opening scarcely feet from her. From within came a gentle, flickering light. She was on the other side. The Lover and her domain were gone but the Wraith had not returned to Chelamah. Chelamah had returned to the Wraith.
There was nothing behind her but darkness. Before her, a door and arguably, the desirable path to take. Like a moth to a flame, she advanced.
A muscular blonde man in his 20s dragged on his last cigarette before stubbing it out on the wet ground. Frustrated, he wringed his gloved hands before once more peering into the foyer of the old building, watching his breath fog over the glass of the door. I’m gonna die of fucking hypothermia out here.
Still no sign of Jason. He had returned to Mika shortly after they had all walked away from the elevator and gone their separate ways. One text only, and Jason had turned back. Luka asked why, but Jason didn't know. He looked nervous and, given what had occurred to Marco minutes earlier, he should have been.
Jason asked Luka to wait for him and he agreed. Not out of any concern, but out of pure curiosity. Perhaps, though unlikely, Jason would tell him what Mika wanted. With the current unease in the group, information was power and that could mean survival. That was an hour ago. Jason hadn’t reappeared. This was unsettling, but Luka knew Mika liked to take a very long time to say… anything. It wasn’t unusual.
Eventually Jason's lanky, bespeckled figure left the elevator, stooped over with his hands in his pockets. He approached the door. It slid open as he walked out past Luka and down the dark road. Luka put his hands out exasperated “and?” he called out.
Jason pivoted around in a circle, “and… what?” he sneered looking down on his Devotee while maintaining his stride.
“What did he say?” Luka jogged up to him. “What happened?”
“I can't tell you that,” Jason snapped, impatiently pulling his hood down over his brow.
“Who was it about?”
“You. He hates you,” Jason sighed facetiously. “He thinks you're a useless prick.”
“Come on. I'm being serious. I was out here for an hour. Did you see the look on Chel’s face? She was pissed. What was the go with Noah? He looked fucked up too. They wouldn't even look at us… bad vibes man… bad vibes.”
Jason chuckled softly, “that's all they offer. Bad vibes and inconsequential talent. You saw their faces in there?”
“I saw the way Noah looked at you when you said what you would do to Marco.”
“Noah is shit. I have no interest in talking about N-N-N-Noah,” Jason parodied, waving a gloved hand in the air dismissively.
Luka laughed. “OK, speech impediment aside, he’s a pretty big guy though. Would scare the shit out of me.”
Jason didn't respond immediately. He thought that he would let that sit uncomfortably for a moment. Hopefully Luka would realise how stupid that statement was. After a pause, Jason just smiled to himself. For him, Noah was nothing, not when he had his constant companion. For him, no-one was a threat.
“Noah should scare the shit out of you. I agree.” It was important that he let Luka know his place.
They walked quickly across the wet street. Jason pulled the hood from his coat, letting the rain hit his face, absorbing the moment. This was his favourite time. The Rising Fire completed; the Event was over for another year. He had now proven himself worthy to stay alive for another twelve months. A strange sense of calm washed over him. After all these years, the events of the night now seemed to retreat steadily like a dream. He enjoyed visiting his victims again. The sense of power it gave him. No-one should underestimate him. Just look at what he could do. He enjoyed seeing what had been done to them and, unexpectedly, he enjoyed the battle of wits that ensued between him and It. He was sure that his God found the process as fun as he did. He found it amusing that it tried to break him by throwing the pieces of shit from his past in his face. Like that would weaken him. It had not had that sort of effect on him for some time.
“Man, that was awkward!” Luka shouted, turning and looking at the building they had just left. “That will go down as the most uncomfortable elevator ride in history.”
Jason laughed, “Yeah, the door couldn’t open fast enough.”
He descended the steep concrete steps to the city gardens, holding onto the ice-cold railing as the city skyline disappeared above them. With a joint sigh they began to slow as the steps provided a veneer of isolation. They were now alone, except for the occasional derelict bum that slept rough under the cover of the many large trees. They could speak freely.
Luka stopped walking. “Do you think I did the right thing? Telling Mika about the blood?”
“Yes!” Jason replied loudly. “Your other option would’ve been to not have told him. Which do you think Mika would’ve preferred?”
“Yeah… damn straight. I'm not lying to him.” Luka chuckled. “You looked pissed too, in there with Mika. I thought you were gonna do it!” Perplexed, Jason stepped closer to Luka eyeing him curiously. “You thought I would do… what?”
Shuffling his feet uneasily. “Nah I mean, you know. You looked kind of… irate too,” he replied cautiously.
Jason nodded. It was clear that anyone else but himself, or another Ascendant Conduit, could not understand how it worked.
“Irate doesn’t cut it,” Jason coldly replied with a thin smile. “If it did, you would’ve been gone when we first met.”
Luka laughed but they both knew that this was fact. Their meeting and the following months had been full of frustrating adjustments. Luka pushed past him to the bottom of the staircase onto the gravel path.
“Mika doesn’t have a list. Mika doesn't have a rule,” Jason said, his voice getting quieter. Luka turned around to look at him, stood on the bottom step, illuminated eerily by the street light. They were both thinking the same thing, though it would go unsaid.
“Maybe Mika’s list is more… flexible,” Luka shrugged. “We could’ve just smashed the fuck out of Marco, would’ve been more fun for me.”
“That would have been crude,” Jason replied calmly, uncomfortable at the level of candour his companion was reaching. “That's what you would do, not what Mika or I would do.”
“Marco was a fucking pussy anyway. Always had been since he arrived. Teaming him up with Will was a good match!” Luka sneered, which made Jason uncomfortable. The small smile left his face. He was not pleased with this comment, and Luka immediately wished he hadn’t said it. It had been a long night and his tongue was loose.
“Luka… Will was an Ascendant,” Jason said coolly.
Luka instantly looked to the ground chastised. His posture became rigid, nervous.
“I know. I’m sorry that’s not what I meant,” Luka was belittled, humbled. His voice quietened. His eyes cast down as he was admonished.
Jason straightened up, looking down on Luka again, dominant and threatening. “Respect, Luka. As an Ascendant, Will gets respect.” He muttered quietly with a hint of regret, “that could’ve been anyone of us and Will made it a long time.”
“Absolutely,” Luka shook his head displaying a great performance of guilt. “I get it hey, I really get it.”
“No, you don’t.” Jason leapt off the final step and walked to Luka who shrank before him. “You don’t get it. You… Chelamah… fucking Noah… you don’t get it.” The whole thing made him anxious.
A sound that Jason had largely been ignoring up until now got his attention. His weariness increased as he became aware of the aching of his tired, battered body. He had hoped to sleep tonight but it seemed that that would be challenging now that his powerful friend had decided to return.
The sobbing, distraught speech came from the shadows of the trees before them. Jason knew that he was the only one who heard it. Luka wasn't worthy to hear it. The powerful being had returned to his side and was seeking his attention. The benediction by this awesome being was on him. Not for the unworthy. Not Luka.
A chanting and applause drifted over Jason’s ears like distant rain, vague yet soothing. Happy, playful music brought a swell of strength in his throat. It had rested after their special night together.
The aura of happiness that surrounded his constant companion hid its lethal and vicious intent. At this moment it was performing a joyful, light and fragile dance. Its true nature, however, was violent and terrible. It was just how this “blessing” worked. That’s what Mika called it. A blessing. A strength… a god-like ability. Jason meditated on this daily. He was blessed to be invincible. No-one could threaten him. He grimaced. Tonight he would fall asleep listening to the declarations of a God.
Jason felt the bluffed absurdity of his monster’s presence descend on him, wrapping about him like a blanket of darkness. He silently faced Luka for a moment and then walked behind him, shaking his head as he stared into the black shadows with calm contemplation.
“It’s here right now. I can hear it. I can feel it. It can hear me too and you bet it can feel me. It’s everywhere, but nowhere at the same time. I see what it wants to do…” Jason added threateningly. He turned, watching Luka shuffle uncomfortably. “Its power… it’s strength. My god… it’s strong. Mika says it’s a part of me! A part of me, but you know something? It’s so much more powerful than me, and I don’t always feel worthy of all that. It gives me power… it gives me its strength. Why? It cherishes the agony of those that hurt me. It places a wall around me… nothing can get through. It craves this. It stops death for me! I can’t die. It won’t let me. Do you know how many times I’ve tried? How many others have tried? It deems me worthy to be invincible. Me!” Jason put his hands up dramatically. “Because I matter to this god. I have been embraced by Him.” He smirked. “Think about that… I matter to god…”
“I’m sorry” Luka said solemnly, “I didn’t mean it.”
“…I know what you meant. But remember: as much as it wants to hurt you - and it does want to hurt you - it wants to hurt you for me.” Looking directly at Luka he continued. “It loves me, and not in a bullshit ‘Jesus loves me’ kinda way… this god pays out.”. This god shows its love every fucking day. So much more so that every 365 days on the fucking line, it bends heaven and earth to get to me. It wants me with it. By its side.” Jason lifted his hands again, smiling almost hysterically and leaving Luka confused.
Was he comparing his Leviathan to God? Luka had not thought of Jason as religious before, but this sounded something like Mika’s strange sanctimonious doctrine. Luka became nervous. There was no God in their world. It was not allowed. Theism was banned, as was any reference to an actual religious deity. God had to be tangible, witnessed and real. God was the Leviathan.
“Such is the responsibility of an Ascendant Luka. Such is the beautiful burden of this awesome blessing! My life is not my own. It can be really fuck… really challenging,” he asserted loudly. The words ‘beautiful’ and ‘blessing’ were carefully chosen but still sounded forced. “But I see God, and more importantly, He sees me.”
Sensibly, Luka remained quiet.
“That’s my life, that’s Miya’s life, that is Mika’s life… that was Will’s life. He too, was worthy and loved by a god. Because of the immense love that was held for him, his god brought him home. What you… you… think of him is irrelevant.” Jason's eyes blazed passionately. “William Mason was no pussy. Have more respect.”
“I get that. My apologies,” Luka nodded coldly.
The two stood in awkward silence. Jason was sure that Luka was looking into his eyes for weakness. Assessing his every nuance for a safe path out of a precarious situation. He must not show any. Luka was not his friend. None of these people were his friends. Any notion that perhaps they could have been was dashed tonight. Though tonight he too had called for Marco’s destruction. Why? Firstly, it was appropriate. Marco had failed Will, therefore Marco had no use for the Pantheon. He knew too much to be set free. He had proven that he could not be trusted.
Secondly, if Marco failed Will, then Luka could fail Jason. Luka must never fail him. Before he met Mika he would never have thought that he needed someone to look out for him, to keep him safe. Before he became mixed up with these people, he had never felt the need for a chaperone or a companion. The Pantheon was supposed to make him stronger… so he made sure that they got the point. He needed to make sure that he kept Luka scared; made sure that they both knew that he was willing to condemn him should he need to.
The silence lasted way too long for either of their comfort. Luka smiled gently. Fake empathy, an attempt to disarm Jason perhaps. Jason would not respond to such manipulation. It didn’t matter how Luka had interpreted the conversation. Luka did not know about Jason’s new acquaintance. Mika wouldn’t tell Luka that a new Ascendant was being introduced into an already dubious dynamic.
“Oh, fuck it, let’s just go,” Jason cursed flippantly. “I’m tired and I’ve got shit to do.”
The rain started again but there was no hurry. At this time of year everyone in the damn city was used to living their lives wet and uncomfortable. Their conversation turned to plans and the list. Who was coming up. How it would be done, and how it would end. They would often repeat the list to each other, name after name. The list, of course, was neither written nor recorded. This would be foolish as these people would be gone, disappeared, completely and inexplicably vanished. During the process not a thread of their existence would come back. Therefore, it is impossible to link a Conduit to anyone taken. Jason was in awe of this. The beautifully crafted, miraculous alibi led to no denial to the gift bestowed upon them.
