 
EMERALD STREET

ROSS PARKES

# Chapter 1

The dark grey rain clouds had descended across the night sky. The wind bellowed across the skyline and throughout the alleyways of the miserable, more unfortunate end of the unnamed city. Heavy raindrops fell from the clouds and rattled against the rooftops. A fork of lightning broke out across the sky and illuminated the tall steel buildings. The roads were gridlocked with commuters in their cars at a standstill blinding each other with their headlights. Their tires lay soaking in the rivers of rainwater that gurgled along the sides of every street. Every drainpipe overflowed, and the rain fell in waterfalls to the ground.

A streetlight flickered with every spark of lightning that erupted from the clouds. Next to the lamp, tucked away under what shelter Dallas could find from the canopy of a closed grocery shop. He slouched against the metal shutters that had been sprayed with colourful graffiti by the local gang. Drops of rain dripped onto his shoulders and down his long brown trench coat. Between his dry fingers, he held a cigarette, almost finished he took one last drag. Dallas blew the smoke from his nostrils and against his weathered unshaved face. He pulled down his hood and wiped back his scraggly black hair.

A sudden roar of thunder was followed by brief silence during which Dallas could hear the goings on in alleyway next to him. He flicked away the cigarette and pulled a handgun from the inside of his coat. He opened the cylinder and checked to make sure that he had six bullets, one in each chamber. Holding the gun confidently at his side, Dallas stepped slowly out into the rain. He made sure not to stray too far from the damp wall. As he turned the corner, he caught sight of what he came for. At the far end of the alleyway, underneath a boarded-up window and in the glare of a stylish neon 'Open' sign, was a group of spilt trash cans. Rubbish littered the surrounding puddles.

Against the flash of lightning, Dallas glimpsed at the silhouette of a man being beaten up by a winged creature. Dallas remained hidden and stalked the beast. It was seven-feet-tall with the arm span of a giant and threw the man against a wall again and again. It launched him across rubbish bins and into a puddle of muddy water. The creature slowly made its way over to him and rested its foot over his head.

"Tell me where he is," the beast growled.

"Who would that be?" The man whimpered back.

"You know damn well who I'm talking about!"

"No chance you're going to have to kill me, I'm not going to tell you!"

"Boy, Gabriel is not worth dying for."

"But what you and the others will do with the information is, so go screw yourself!" The man closed his eyes and sighed. "Besides, Gabriel will never tell you where she is."

The beast lowered his foot. "Oh? And who would she be?" It grabbed the man by his hair and lifted his head.

"Katie!" He shouted back.

"And how would a small creature like you know I was looking for her?" The beast snarled.

"Of course, you're looking for her; she is the key to Legion."

The beast laughed. "Your poor soul, she is not all that important at all. We know where the key is, and it is only a matter of time before it falls into our hands. Katie is something more."

Dallas had heard enough; he took a deep breath and ran around the corner. He pointed his gun at the beast. A bolt of lightning stuck ground and ignited a pile of rubbish next to the creature. He was only a small demon in comparison to the others Dallas had previously met but a big son of bitch, nonetheless. As he stood on his hind legs, Dallas could see that the beast's Mohawk crawled all the way down his back. His scally wings were closed, and piercing red eyes were illuminated from his monstrous face as he snarled at Dallas with large tiger-like teeth.

"Release him, Franco!" Dallas called to the beast as he pointed a flashlight to his face.

Franco looked at Dallas and grinned. "Well, well, Dallas, I guess you finally got me."

"I don't know how I have not killed you yet, but it's time you left this place. You know you're not welcome."

"My dear disillusioned Dallas," he said with a sly smile, "I suppose you're going to shoot me with that?" Franco slowly squeezed the man's neck as he spoke.

Dallas steadied his arm and his weapon "Fre..."

"Freeze?!" He interrupted, "How many times have we fought boy, and how many times have you managed to kill me with your mortal weapons. Nothing you hold can hurt me." Franco dropped the man and approached Dallas. He grabbed hold of the barrel and aimed it Dallas's head.

Dallas didn't pull the trigger. "Too afraid boy?" Franco laughed as his wings spread open and he turned back to the man lying on the ground. Dallas took another deep breath and fired a shot at the demon. The bullet flew straight into Franco's shoulder, and he stumbled to the floor.

"My bullets may not be able to kill you, but they can put down your sorry ass," Dallas walked towards Franco.

"You may be able to disable me momentarily, but I will not lie down?"

"Let's test that theory," Dallas said as he fired another round into Franco.

"Bastard!" Franco collapsed to the ground in pain as Dallas ran out of ammunition.

The man climbed to his feet. "Yeah, take that." He kicked up water from a nearby puddle into Franco's face and spat on him. The man smirked to gain some self-respect.

Franco turned his head and grabbed the man's foot. He threw his body through the air into a window, and he fell to the ground. The window cracked and shattered, shards of glass fell towards the man cutting him. A large pane of glass sliced through his torso and blood sprayed everywhere. The man coughed up blood and tried to feel his legs but could only feel his intestines that had fallen from the wound on his stomach. All he could do was sit and wait for his heart to stop beating as his body was overcome with numbness. Franco now turned his full attention to Dallas.

"Out of bullets?" He climbed to his feet and confronted his foe. With a mighty swing, he punched Dallas across the face. The attack dazed him but quickly he attempted to return a hit, but Franco stopped him with his arm and lifting Dallas by the shirt, he threw him down the alleyway. Dallas slid across the ground and hurtled into a pile of rubbish. He picked himself up and grabbed a shard of glass as he stood. Franco hurried over, but before he could hit him again, Dallas stabbed him in the chest. Franco let out a huge roar.

"Come on, then you piece of shit, let's see what you've got!" Dallas put both of his fists out in front of him.

Franco pulled out the shard of glass and smiled back. "Ha, you are no match for me, little man."

Dallas and Franco exchange punches in true boxing style; they took turns swiping each other across the face. Dallas landed the first big blow as he caught Franco across the jaw. This dazed Franco for a moment and allowed Dallas to unleash a rally of uppercuts, striking Franco across the face once again.

To their surprise, sirens howled in the distance and brought their fight to an end. Pushing Dallas away, Franco spread out his wings and flew off into the sky, making a quick exit. In moments police arrived at the scene and jumped out of their cars pointing their guns at Dallas.

"Put your hands in the air!" an officer shouted.

Dallas didn't try to resist, he knew there would be no point, so he placed his hands in the air and turned to face them.

Dallas found himself a small room with Agent Stephen Grant. A tall, well-built Federal Agent. Grant stood in the corner of the poorly lit interview room as he took a cigarette from its sleeve and rested it between his lips. He pulled out his steal gas lighter and lit the end. With a relaxing drag, Grant breathed out the smoke from his nostrils, then he turned from facing the wall and removed the chair from underneath the nearby table to sit down. Across from him was a beaten Dallas, poorly applied bandages stopped the blood from dripping onto the tabletop. His hands were cuffed behind his chair, somewhat pointless as he'd put up no struggle at all.

"Dallas Mitchell, you just can't stay out of trouble, can you?" Grant smirked but gained no response from Dallas. "I know it's frustrating your father disappearing like that but going around killing people won't bring him back."

Dallas mumbled too quiet for Grant to hear.

"What was that, Dallas? I didn't catch that." Grant asked, smiling.

"I didn't kill that man," Dallas said in a low voice.

"Funny that, no one else was in the vicinity. Let me guess, was it a demon?" Grant laughed at Dallas and shook his head.

"Untie my hands and I will show you the truth."

"And how in God's name do you expect to do that? In case you couldn't tell you're in a secured room in the middle of a police station with armed officers. Sorry, Dallas, you have got no chance." Grant said, refusing Dallas' request.

"I do not have to leave the room, just give me your hand, and I will show you. That cross you took from me, pass it to me, I will show you."

Grant's curiosity got the better of him. For the past five years, he had been following Dallas wanting to know what exactly he was searching for and, just like Dallas, he too had wondered where Alick Mitchell had disappeared to. Grant stood up from his chair and approached the officer who guarded the room.

"Give me that cross we took from him," he asked.

"But sir..." the officer challenged.

"Don't question me," Grant replied sharply

The officer opened the bag on the table located just outside the secured room and grabbed the golden cross Dallas was talking about. "Here you go," he said, handing it over to Grant.

Grant locked the door behind him and placed the cross in front of Dallas. He pulled the handcuff keys from his pocket and unlocked Dallas' right hand. He left the other handcuffed to the chair just in case his prisoner did try anything.

"That should stop you from trying to escape."

"Ever trusting aren't you Agent Grant" Dallas smirked.

"What's so special about this cross?" He asked.

"Pass me your hand, and you'll see."

Grant slowly grabbed hold of Dallas' hand. He closed his eyes and expected something to happen. He held on for about thirty seconds while he kept his eyes closed.

Dallas let go. "Relax you don't have to fear anything... yet."

Grant opened his eyes and pulled his hand away quickly. "Yet?" he asked.

"Now turn around," Dallas whispered.

Grant followed Dallas' gaze and took a deep breath, he turned to look behind him. He kept his eyes closed and slightly feared what he would potentially see. But his eagerness forced him to open them. As he did so, the surroundings of the small room were obliterated by a thunderous sandstorm. The walls crumbled like dust though nothing touched him. The dust swirled around his body, the table and chair which had stayed within his touch. Grant turned to look at Dallas but saw that his body was motionless as skin peeled from his bones and blew away with the grains of sand. Every ounce of flesh fell from his body, leaving only his bones. Dallas' eyeballs remained, and his skeleton stared hauntingly at Grant.

"Turn around," the skeleton whispered.

Grant turned around and the dust immediately dissolved to leave an almighty sight. The 'Gates of Hell'. He stood on a hill with the graves of a billion soldiers stretching behind him; Legion's army. In front of him, iron gates fifty feet high were erected between two pillars wrapped in vines, beneath a colossal marble statue of what one could only presume was Legion, the Devil himself. His jaw gaped with large lion-like teeth, serpent-like skin coated his body, and horns protruded from his forehead. The only colour on the statue came from his intense red eyes that looked down on Grant. The sky was on fire and ash fell from the burning clouds. A volcano roared in the distance and fired molten rock from its mouth.

Grant woke from his vision to a glass of cold water thrown over his face. He took a step backwards and wiped his face.

"What the hell happened?!" he asked the officer who'd thrown the water.

"We don't' know. As you approached Dallas, the cameras went fuzzy, and the lights switched off so we couldn't see what was going on in here. We tried to get in, but we couldn't open the door. After about twenty minutes it opened merely by itself, and the lights switched back on. You stood there and didn't respond to any of us, but you felt like you were on fire."

"Dallas, where is he?" Grant looked around the room, bewildered by what had happened.

"We were hoping you could tell us." The officer replied. "We entered the room, only you were here, there was no sign of Dallas." The officer suddenly pointed at Grant's hand, "Sir, your hand."

Grant looked down and saw his hand was imprinted with a special symbol. The letter L intermingled with the letter K. 'Why?' Grant thought to himself, realising he had no idea what it meant.

# Chapter 2

An apartment door unlocked, and Dallas walked into the living room and turned the light on. His apartment wasn't exactly the cleanest. Clothes were scattered across the sofa; pizza boxes and empty beer cans crowded the table in front of his television. Newspaper clippings were pinned to the wall with articles written about recent deaths of Catholic priests. Highlighted in red felt-tip were the names of the local priests. Noticeably the title 'Father Jacob' appeared more often than any other. Unfortunately, it was he who had just met his fate at the hands of Franco in the alleyway.

The kitchen and living room joined in the same room with a work surface separating them. Inside the fridge, a small lump of cheese and a box of eggs sat on the shelf alongside a few drops of milk in a carton and several bottles of beer. Dallas grabbed a bottle, opened it with his mouth and spat the top into the sink. He threw his jacket over a stool and slumped down onto the couch. He kicked an empty pizza box from the table so he could rest his feet on top, then he picked up the remote and turned the television on. Dallas left the news channel on just to fill the silent room with the random words of strangers. He opened a cigarette packet and lit a stick of pure enjoyment. He took a drag while he released the smoke slowly through his nostrils and drank from his beer.

Dallas saw a faint colourless vision of Katie, his little sister who disappeared when he was ten. She ran around his apartment, halted in front of the television and smiled at him, embracing the teddy bear she was holding. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he stared at the vision before him. The lights in the apartment flickered and eventually guttered off. Behind her, a woman who bore a likeness to Katie came forwards and touched her on the shoulder. Katie looked up, and her face turned to horror. She screamed, but Dallas could not hear her, all he could do was sit there and watch this forever image which he sat through every night. Flames appeared at Katie's feet as the bear began to burn. The woman grabbed Katie's hand and dragged her away as they both disappeared into the darkness.

The lights came back on. Dallas sat forward and took the last swig out of his beer and placed the bottle on the table. Again, in the kitchen, he opened the microwave and pulled out a plate of pizza from the previous night. With another beer from the fridge, Dallas sat back down and took a bite from the stale food, pepperoni hardly seemed appetising the next day. He flicked through the TV for something to watch and after endless channel hoping he settled for a cheap horror movie. Dallas sat there for the rest of the night watching mediocre film's until he had enough beer and passed out. As always, he dreamt about the same thing. The day that Katie disappeared.

In a quiet English country village on the outskirts to the city stood an old medieval church. The morning sky had risen, and the entire village gathered inside for the Sunday service, it was a dull and foggy spring morning. 'Click' 'Click'. "That my children is the countdown to Armageddon.' A powerful, dominant priest stood at the front of the church, clicking his fingers while he delivered his sermon. His parishioners were sitting in front of him, listening to every single word intently. The candles lit around the room provided extra light to expose the images of the medieval stained-glass windows. The flames flickered as a brisk wind swept through the church. The priest waved his fist in front of him and captured everyone's attention.

"The Emerald Pillars look down on thee. His eyes glisten at the sight of power, the kingdom of solace melts in the awakening of the fiery brimstone of hell." Every word he spoke burned a sharp picture in everyone's mind. He was Alick, the local priest and had grown up in the village, a quiet and weak little boy but on returning from the army, he became this strong, powerful man.

"And who should be standing in front of these emerald pillars? Standing tall in the crater of the unforgiving? Legion!" he shouted the name, his voice echoed through every corner of the church. "Our lord betrayed by those closest to him, just as we betray one another."

Alick climbed down from the pulpit. "Instead of withstanding the evil that surrounds us, we embrace it using it to better ourselves at the mercy of our peers." He stood for a moment directly in front of the congregation and then turned and returned to his platform.

"Brothers, sisters when will you learn," he said, raising his arms, "we have all sinned, even me as I talk to you, I have sinned. Evil is all around us, the air you breathe today is tainted by the breath of the beast. Only when we confess our sins will the Lord save us." He accidentally knocked his sermon papers onto the floor so passionate was his rhetoric. He quickly knelt to reach the documents when a small, dated book fell from his pocket. He snatched the book up not wanting to let the precious pieces of paper from his sight.

The book was written in Aramaic, and it had been Alick's prize possession since he came back from duty abroad. While serving near the old Soviet Union, his convoy was returning to base when it came under heavy artillery and was hit by an enemy mortar. The blast had blown him from his seat, and as he landed, he hit the ground with such force that he was knocked unconscious.

With blurred vision, Alick had awoken in a chapel. As he crouched blood steadily flowed from his forehead and dripped from his nose, forming a small puddle on his lap. The stale stench of death approached. Alick gradually rose to his feet using the pew for leverage. As he rubbed his eyes, it caused his blurred vision to disappear. Somehow, he had ended up in a place of worship. A statue of Jesus nailed to the cross hung above him, but unlike the usual image that Alick was familiar with there was a symbol on Christ's chest. The symbol looked like the letter Y reflected on itself.

"You're awake then?" a strange voice spoke from behind him. Alick turned around, and a man in a black hooded cloak stood before him. He removed his hood, and beneath it, there was an old weathered face with a few hairs left on his scalp and a bushy beard growing from his jaw.

"Yes, I am, and do you mind telling me where the hell I am?" Alick responded.

"The Third Church of Jericho my child, and would you mind your language, we are in a place of worship after all."

Alick worryingly asked, "Where's the rest of the convoy I was with?" He already knew what this answer would be.

"That was a mighty blast your vehicle took. You're lucky to be alive, the others were blown apart. I saw you and dragged you away before those monsters could get you."

Alick laughed. "Monsters?"

"There are worse things out there than the enemy troops you know. Some soldiers have been fighting with him for centuries. There's a lot your commanding officers don't even know, events are happening that are beyond your imagination. Before I tell you, please sit down and let me get you some food and water." Alick took a seat and untied the laces on his boots to allow blood to flow to his feet, an instant sigh of relief.

"You're telling me the soldiers out there are over a hundred years old?"

"You are correct," he replied. "Here, take this bread and water, it should give you some strength."

"Tell me, Alick, where do you come from?"

"A small village," Alick replied and took a sip of water.

"So, you're a country boy. I guess all the noise must be a change from the wilderness of the countryside."

"Nonsense I just pretend each night is bonfire fire night. To me, every shell fired is just another firework, you just don't think of where it's going to land."

"Alick, you seem like a strong man; do you have a wife?"

"Not yet," he laughed. "I'm only twenty years old, I'm just about old enough to fight for my country." He paused for a moment and then continued." There is someone back home waiting for me, though. How about you?"

"No, I am a priest, and I chose not to wed. I live my life with God, to whom I entrust. Now listen to me Alick," he said, changing the subject, "I'm afraid we were followed, the monsters are coming for me."

"So why didn't you leave me there and save yourself?"

"Alick you are about to embark on a great journey, a new war is fast approaching. When you return home, please take this piece of paper with you. There are four other churches scattered over the world. You must travel to them and find the scripts hidden in each church." He handed Alick the piece of paper. "This is the first script, and together with the others, it will make up the Manuscript of Jericho. Once you have possession of all the scripts, you shall carry great power." He took a deep breath, letting the silence of the church echo around them. "When you reach the final church, you shall meet a girl whom you must watch over, do not let her fall into the hands of evil. When you find her read from the complete Manuscript and baptise her."

"Why are you telling me this?" Alick asked his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Alick, I have been waiting for you for some time, you live in a sacred village, please do as I say."

The sound of a mortar shell suddenly came from overhead, and the front wall of the church exploded.

"Alick, please take this and run," the priest said pleadingly," if you follow the lord and listen to your heart, you will be saved."

Back at Alick's sermon, four children sat outside patiently, waiting for their parents to exit the church. Among them was Dallas, Alick's only son. At the age of ten, he had already seen half the world having travelled with his father to various countries. His little sister Katie was also with them, although she was not from the village, she was adopted three years before.

Dallas threw a tennis ball against the wall of the church and Lucas caught it with his steady hand, he was stocky for a ten-year-old. "Hey, I know what we could do," Lucas said, "Let's go to old man Grisom's house on Emerald Street." Grisom, or Old Man Grisom as he was better known, had lived on the edge of the village his entire life and in his older age, he had become mentally deranged. He often accused Alick of bringing the beast to the village. Everyone ignored Old Man Grisom and went by their daily lives, that was until he had kidnapped Katie. When they found them both, Katie was unharmed, but a villager had taken it upon themselves to make sure that Old Man Grisom could not take another child. To this day, no one has found his body.

"Yeah alright let's go," a tall skinny Donna said standing up.

But Katie, in her summer dress and grasping onto her worn teddy bear, shook her head and disagreed. "Dallas," she said tugging on his sleeve, "Daddy said we have to stop here until the sermon finishes."

"It's okay Katie, don't worry, he won't mind just stay by me," Dallas reassured her.

He grabbed her hand and together, the entire group walked to the edge of the village. The house was the last residence still standing on Emerald Street. The other houses had been struck by stray bombs during the war. As they approached the house, a misty fog set on the group and swept around their feet. The wind howled through the trees as the sunlight sparkled on the remaining glass in the windows. The bricks were stained with age and moss had started to eat away at the exterior. The front door swung back and forth on its hinges.

"Scared, yet?" Lucas jokingly asked.

"Not yet but ask me in a minute, and I might be," Donna answered, looking up at the house with a concerned expression.

They walked up to the drive and headed slowly towards the front door. With each step, the gravel crackled. Dallas pushed the door open and popped his head inside. He looked around for any sign of life, but all he could find were pieces of dust floating aimlessly around the empty ground floor. He slowly walked over the threshold and took a deep breath, the damp air lingering in his nostrils. In front of him was an ageing staircase which Dallas looked at with trepidation. The myths said that Grisom led his victims up this staircase to the first floor. Dallas turned away from the stairs and tiptoed into the living room. Along the far wall sat a long, dull sofa with a dirty white cover and a lone child's hand printed in the dust.

Lucas ran past Dallas and headed to the kitchen. "Hey, let's see if there's any food in here, I'm starving!" he opened the door and to his disgust cockroaches were spilling from the sink and onto the dirty floor. Lucas let out a gasp, but on second thought he realised it would be fun to start kicking and stamping on the cockroaches.

"Me and Katie will stay outside and keep watch I'm not getting caught," Donna shouted from the front door.

"Getting caught? We're not doing anything wrong, it's an abandoned house." Dallas walked back outside, with the sheet from the sofa over him; Donna let a little scream as Dallas chased her around the front garden.

Meanwhile, Lucas walked into the living room and jumped on the sofa. "Guys I found a trampoline," he called out. Katie saw a black cat wandering about the dead, potted plants at the front of the house. "Hello Kitty," she cooed and went to grab the feline, but it scurried away from her and made for the front door. Without thinking, Katie ran after it calling out "Kitty, Kitty!". The cat dashed through the house and into the back garden. Katie stood for a moment at the back door, which led from the kitchen, and then she stepped outside. The grass reached her waist with grasshoppers hopping from one blade to the next all around her. To the rear was an old and mouldy greenhouse, its warped panes of glass mottled with green mildew. Suddenly Katie heard the cat cry out and saw it leap past her, back towards the house. Through the open-door, Katie saw the terrified animal jolt into the hallway and leap down into the basement.

Katie didn't hesitate, she turned around and followed the cat. She crouched down on the basement floor and shouted "Kitty?". The cat responded to her voice, meowing softly in the darkness. Katie carefully took the creaking steps down into the basement, which was surrounded in complete darkness with water dripping from a tap out of view. The cat began to purr and just when she thought she had it, it leapt past Katie and escaped up the stairs. The basement door closed with a soft thud behind the animal and Katie was left in alone in the darkness.

Lucas was still jumping on the sofa when the television suddenly switched itself on. The image on the screen was faint, but the picture displayed a darkened room. Lucas shouted out to Dallas and Donna, "You two, come quickly. The television just switched on by itself."

Donna ran from Dallas and into the lounge.

"Where's Katie?" Dallas asked the others breathlessly as he entered the room. On the screen, a little girl alone in a room.

"Isn't that your little sister Dallas?" Lucas asked, pointing at the television.

"Yeah," a confused Dallas replied, "I thought she was outside." Dallas walked out of the lounge and wandered around the house looking for Katie, he shouted her name repeatedly.

In the basement, Katie stood frozen, fear had engulfed her, and she couldn't move a muscle. Although she knew she should head for the stairs, she was instead rooted to the spot listening to the soft sound of an insect beating its wings against an unseen window. She suddenly became aware of movement behind her and felt her hair ruffled by a cold breath. The darkness plundered into a deeper shade of black as a tall shadow enveloped her.

"Hello, Katie," a deep voice whispered behind her.

The lights in the house above flickered and then guttered out. On the television screen, a shadowy figure appeared behind the girl. The screen distorted for a moment before the face of Katie screaming appeared. Then the television shattered.

"Oh my God! Was that Katie?!" Donna held her hands against her mouth, her eyes wide with fear.

"No, it can't be she was outside," Dallas said, doubting his own words as he told them.

The floors began to shake, and a picture on the wall fell from its hook, landed in a cloud of dust. A sudden thud from below their feet was followed by Katie's nightmarish scream.

Dallas opened his eyes to the bright light of the sun shining through his dusty apartment window. He wiped his eyes and sat forward, grabbed the bottle of beer from the night before and took one last swig. There was nothing like a warm, flat beer to freshen him up in the morning. He stood up from his chair, the leather peeling off his back and leaving behind the imprint of his body.

He made his way over to the kitchen where he lit up a cigarette and switched on the kettle. Dallas made some tea, not letting it cool down and instead of gulping gulped it down without feeling the scolding heat from the boiled water. He wiped his mouth and continued to smoke.

Dallas walked over to the bathroom knocking over his bin as he went. "Bollocks," he muttered to himself as he bent to pick it up. Entering the bathroom, Dallas turned on the shower and threw the cigarette into the toilet. He took his top off to reveal scars crisscrossing his worn but muscular frame. Dallas unbuckled his jeans and, letting them fall to the floor, he climbed into the shower. He plunged himself under the rushing water and rubbed his face. The water dripped off his eyes and into his mouth, every droplet refreshed him.

A nearby train rattled past the apartment which rumbled the plates and cups in the kitchen. The water stopped with the last few droplets escaping from the showerhead. Dallas grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist. His body was battered and bruised from the previous night.

After changing into a fresh t-shirt and jeans and pulling on his coat, Dallas left the apartment and locked the door behind him. He pressed the button for the lift and waited for the doors to open. He walked into the elevator and nodded hello to the old woman standing in the corner with her dog.

"Nice day today," she said, smiling at Dallas.

"Isn't it just," Dallas replied.

"We're off to the park aren't we," she rubbed her dog's head, "Might as well make the most of the weather while it lasts."

"How's Derek?" Dallas asked.

"He's doing fine, he phones every weekend. He said that they are shipping him out to Iraq next month, I'll tell him you asked about him when he phones this weekend."

Derek was Dallas' drinking buddy before he signed up to the Marines. His mother would occasionally cook Dallas a stew. Usually, this was the only cooked meal he ever ate. He did always love those stews.

"I cooked another stew last night, do you want me to drop one off for you later," She asked.

"Don't trouble yourself honestly, I'm okay," Dallas replied with a smile.

"Nonsense, let me drop it off later, and I'll give your apartment a little clean while I'm there, god knows it could do with a woman's touch." He left a key under his mat in case of emergencies. She enjoyed helping him out since her son had gone as she felt the need to mother someone and Dallas was happy to let her.

The lift doors opened, and Dallas walked out, "I'll see you later," he said. Outside the midday sun gleamed down as Dallas lit yet another cigarette. People walking past occasionally bumped into him as if he were a ghost. No one looked back or made an apology. Dallas just grunted at anyone who touched him, he always looked down at the ground, perhaps it is he who was bumping into the passer buyers he thought absentmindedly.

Turning a corner, Dallas arrived at a diner where he pulled open the glass door and walked inside. It was a typical old-fashioned diner, the staff smoked directly into the customers' faces, not caring for their health. Signed pictures of baseball players hung from the walls and a glass case with a bat and ball dangled above the counter, the prize possession of the owner. Dallas sat on one of the stools at the counter and looked up at the waitress.

"Hey, good-looking, how you are today?" She asked him.

"I'm good thank, Doris, give me a plate of my usual, please."

"You sure don't look okay, drinking last night I take it?"

"Speak for yourself," he said back to her. He did have a point; Doris was in her late fifties and the years of slaving away in a diner did not have the most significant effect on her. She pulled out a packet of cigarettes and putting one in his mouth, she lit it for him.

"You must have read my mind," he said with the cigarette hanging from of his mouth. "Has Rebecca been in yet?"

"You sure are smitten with her, aren't you?" Doris asked, smiling.

"No, I'm just looking out for her, she's a troubled soul," Dallas replied.

"That's crap, and you know it, she's a whore, and you just want a fuck. Take my advice Dallas and stay away, or it'll drop off."

Dallas stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray in front of him. "Think what you will, Doris, but I know that Rebecca isn't as rough as you all think, somewhere in her, there is good."

"Order up!" shouted the chef from the hatch that led into the kitchen.

"Here you go," Doris said, handed him his plate. Piled high on the flat surface were bacon, sausages, toast, mushrooms, black pudding, and a runny egg.

Dallas sliced his sausage, dipped it in the egg and took a mouthful. He opened the nearby newspaper next to him and sat in silence, enjoying his greasy meal. He took his time eating as he watched the different people coming and going from the diner. An old man came in for a cup of coffee just looking for somewhere comfortable to sit for a while. The streets were no place for an old man to be homeless. A woman in her mid-twenties entered with her three children. She had dark bags under her eyes, her hair was bunched up, and she wore a tracksuit with trainers and face covered in make-up. She swore loudly, telling her children to sit down. The perfect role model Dallas thought to himself. Her kids were running around trying to fight one another, the eldest obviously conceived when his mother was still at school.

Dallas finished his breakfast and placing his knife and fork on the plate he wiped his mouth. He took out a ten-dollar bill from his jeans and put it next to the plate and then walked out of the diner.

He headed to the local library, which was only a couple of blocks away. Dallas came here every chance he got and liked to look through old books and newspapers. He continued to look for answers about why his father and Katie had disappeared. He thought he had come across an answer yesterday when he found a newspaper article that reported homeless people being attacked by so-called 'dragons.' This theory had led him to the confrontation he had the previous night in the alleyway. Dallas knew he was getting close to the answer.

Dallas grabbed a coffee from the machine in the foyer and then entered the main room and sat down in front of a computer. He clicked onto the historical documents page to look through old articles. Luckily for Dallas, this library had access to documents from all over the world, and today decided to focus on reports about his old village. He found files that contained information about the mysterious events that unfolded when he'd left. Alick never told him what happened to the village or the people in it, the only way he could discover the truth was through these files. Flicking through the articles, there was a police report that caught Dallas' attention. On a routine visit through the village, the police officer in question had noted that they still felt the presence of the lost villagers. There were many reports like this one, but it was hard to piece together what happened. One thought did spring to mind though; was Katie responsible?

While reading the documents, Dallas came across a newspaper article from England dated just a couple of days before. The article reported on a young girl who had been found in a burning car alongside her dead friend. They'd been located just outside Dallas' old village. He found several other articles from various newspapers that all reported on the same story.

# Chapter 3

In the suburbs, a short and slim 20-year old Katherine sat in front of her mirror straightening her long dark hair. She wore dark eye shadow that blended in with her pale features and her gothic attire. Her once pink wallpaper had been covered up with heavy metal posters and endless photos of her and her friends from their many outings. Although Katherine was a custom to the gothic culture, the same could not be said for her friends. Each had a different taste in clothing and music but had found a likeness in their friendship. Outside her window, Katherine's four friends, including her boyfriend, pulled up in a small but spacious dirty green car.

Adam slouched in the passenger seat while Rob was in the driver's seat, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. With his piercings and tattoos, Rob looked like an amateur rock star. In the back of the car was the girl Adam had been lusting after for the past year. Similar looking to Katherine, Cindy was a shorter in a tight pink dress with black leggings and cropped hair. Next to Cindy sat Kevin, Katherine's boyfriend. He was more of a rebel then the others and had been expelled from several schools. It was this rebellious side that Katherine found compelling.

"Good evening, my lady. Are you ready to party?" Rob shouted to Katherine as she left her house.

Katherine smiled back; Rob got out of the car to let her in, she bent her head and climbed into the backseat next to Kevin.

"Hello, dear," he winked at her.

"Hey, you," she gave him a peck on the cheek. "Who's going tonight?" Katherine asked.

"Everyone from college and a few others from uni. Oh yeah, and me of course, I make the party!" Adam smirked.

Kevin slapped him around on the head, "you wish!" Kevin pulled out a CD and gave it Adam. "Put this on, it's got some wicked tunes on it, sure to get us in the party mood."

Adam threw it back to him. "Get lost, we're not having your crap playing on what I must say is a smashing piece of technology Rob." He smirked ironically at Rob's inadequate car stereo.

"At least I've got a car." Rob lashed back.

Adam started to clap at Rob. "Good comeback. Anyways since I'm in the front, I get to choose the tunes."

Rob released the handbrake and pulled away from the house. Adam opened the glove compartment and gathered an array of discs. He inserted one containing a compilation of techno music.

"Oh, god, do you have to?" Cindy groaned from the back.

"There's some good driving music on here, it might make Roberto drive faster and get out of second gear."

Rob punched Adam in the arm. "Shut up."

Rob drove past the local school and headed into the nearby countryside. To most teenagers, these roads were known as the lanes, a short cut between the two neighbouring areas, and generally fun to drive through. Rob pulled up to a crossroad and asked, "Which way do I have to go? I've never seen this place before."

"Go left," Adam replied, pointing in the direction they had to go.

Rob looked bemused. "How do you know?"

"Hey, if you're not happy with that, then go right, after all, you're driving."

Rob shrugged his shoulders and followed Adam's direction. The sun faded on the horizon, and a spectrum of reds and oranges were cast across the sky. Birds flew away from the sun and into the distant night. They drove down the narrow country road, and another car came hurtling past. The lights on full beam blinded Rob and the others, so Rob flashed the vehicle as it raced by.

"What a knob!" he fumed.

Cindy sat next to the window and was the only one who was not blinded by the light. As the car went by, she looked at it in confusion. The car seemed to be identical to Rob's. The two passengers in the vehicle were panicking, soaked in blood. Just as the car passed Cindy stared directly at the driver, who starred right back at her. The driver looked terrified and shouted wordlessly at Cindy to turn back. But the scariest thing? The driver looked precisely like Katherine. "Oh my God, stop the car. I think I'm going to be sick," Cindy ordered as she cupped her mouth.

Rob immediately slowed down and pulled up onto a grass verge. Rob got out his side of the car to allow Cindy to exit. She ran out and headed immediately to the nearest bush and hurled.

"What's up with her?" Adam asked.

Katherine got out too and then walked over towards Cindy and held her hair, "You alright?" she asked, rubbing her back with her other hand.

Cindy hurled one last time and gasping for breath, she wiped her mouth with a tissue she had pulled out of her pocket. She turned to the others with a pale white face, her hands trembled uncontrollably. Cindy was mumbling in disbelief, allowed herself to be guided back into the car. As she sat back in her seat, she remained quiet. Rob and Adam looked at Cindy and shrugged their shoulders.

"Hey guys, come on if we want to get to the party, we've got to make a move," Kevin eagerly shouted and thought of the valuable time left of the night.

They all climbed back into the car and pulled away. The rain started to fall from the sky and landed softly on the window screen. Strangely the night sky was clear. The journey continued for what seemed an eternity along the same open road which ran in a straight line.

"Rob, why have we been driving for the last half hour when the party is only down the road?" Kevin asked.

"I haven't seen a turn off this road yet, it just keeps going. It's not my fault, you know." Rob pulled over and turned in his seat to face the others. "Do you reckon I should turn around?" he asked.

"You may as well, you must have gone the wrong way, and perhaps we should have turned right. Looks like we're going be late," Adam replied and looked down at his watch.

Rob put the car back into first gear and, turning around on the road, started to drive back in the direction they had come from. As they drove, the rain intensified, and flashes of lightning illuminated what was now a cloudy night's sky. After about five minutes Rob spotted a sign on the side of the road warning 'Caution Bridge Closed'. He slammed down on the brakes, and the car ground to a halt.

"What the hell?" Rob looked confused.

"This wasn't here before, you've gone the wrong way," Adam shouted.

"The wrong way? Did you see another turn-off, because I sure as hell didn't?" Rob glared at Adam. On the road in front of them was an old stone bridge that hung over the edge of a wide-open gorge.

Rob stepped out into the rain to take a closer look at the gaping hole. He peered over the edge and could see nothing but darkness. He picked up a rock from the side of the road and dropped it into the hole. The rock fell into the abyss, and Rob never heard it land. He threw another one in frustration and climbed back into the car, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Did you see anything?" Katherine asked.

"Nope, it's like the road just disappeared. I don't get it," Rob shook his head with worry. The persistent rain thudded against the car's roof.

Cindy sat up and said, "Just turn around and carry on driving, we'll get there soon."

Rob sighed heavily but nodded in agreement and turned the car around and headed back down the road. The headlights brightened the forest at the side of the road. As they drove on, they all started to notice the symbols inscribed in the barks of nearby trees. They looked like the letter L with the letter K carved on top. Adam kept wiping his window to get a closer look.

"Can you guys see those symbols on the trees too?" Adam asked everyone.

Katherine, who had also been looking outside, said, "Yeah, I see them, what do you think they mean?"

"Don't know must be a local gang or something."

Katherine continued to stare out of the window and saw that they were driving past a clearing in the dense tree line. Suddenly Katherine saw something that chilled her, making her hair stand on end. In the centre of the clearing Katherine observed the silhouette of a little girl holding onto a ripped teddy bear. The car rushed past and Katherine jerked around in her seat to look back. She saw that the girl's dress was dirty and torn. The child glanced back at Katherine with large, dark eyes and mimed her name.

"Stop! Stop!" Katherine jolted forward and grabbed Rob's shoulder.

"For Christ sake, we've stopped too many times already!" Rob snapped, annoyed that they weren't getting anywhere. He slammed on the brakes causing the car to skid slightly across the road and eventually they halted once again.

Adam let Katherine out of the car. She hurried to the edge of the road by the clearing and peered into the darkness. Although the rain made it difficult to see, it was apparent to Katherine that the little girl had vanished. Suddenly the engine behind her stopped running, and Katherine turned her back on the clearing.

"Oh, bugger! I'm out of fuel!" Rob hit the steering wheel and tried unsuccessfully to start the car.

"How did you not notice before?" Adam asked, "What are we going, do now?" They all exited the car and started to look around them, almost as though a fuel station may appear from the darkness.

With the headlights still working Rob spotted the faint outline of a lamp post in the distance. Beyond it was an old house standing alone with a small garage.

"There's a house not far," Rob said pointing behind him. "It's no fuel station, but perhaps there's a car we could steel fuel from?" he suggested to the group.

"That's strange I didn't see it when we drove this way earlier," Adam responded.

"You can go I'm staying here to keep warm," Cindy answered. "Me too," Katherine replied as she walked up to Cindy and linked their arms. Both girls then climbed back into the car and Adam joined them. "I'd better stay with them," he said, "You know, in case something happens."

"Yeah, right, what are you going to do?" Cindy and Katherine laughed but allowed Adam to remain in the car with them.

Rob and Kevin headed to the house. The rain had stopped but left a thick fog in its wake. The trees whispered to one another as the wind swirled between each branch. As the two approached the house, a foul stench assailed their nostrils. Atop of the lamp post, a small candle burnt behind cracked glass. A street sign was attached beneath the lamp, and in the flickering light that danced across the wood they could read: 'Emerald Street.' Rob and Kevin's eyes flitted towards the disturbing sight at the bottom of the sign. A filthy teddy bear with a rope attached around its neck hung from the sign, its stitching had come away, and its stuffing had popped out.

"Dude, that's messed up," Rob tapped the bear when they walked past causing it to ominously swing back and forth in the breeze.

They walked up to the house as Kevin remarked that it was unusual that it was standing on its own. The walls to the house had weathered and crumbled with dead vines wrapped around the outside. All the windows had been smashed in, and the roof had a large hole in the top. Next, to the house, there was a small wooden garage with its doors closed. There were tyre tracks that lead inside the garage.

"Kevin, you look in the garage and see what you can find, I'm going to look inside the house," Rob switched the light on his phone, so he could see where he walked.

"Isn't it better if we stay together?" Kevin questioned, as Rob walked away.

"You scared?" he laughed back.

"Screw you, Rob, I am not scared!" Kevin snapped.

"Then get your ass to that garage and find us some fuel, I'm only going in here to see if I can score us some booze," Rob chuckled to himself.

Rob walked up to the cracked concrete steps that led to the house. He used his phone to light up the broken front door and carefully pushed it open. The door creaked as it slowly flung open. Rob took a step inside and looked around the abandoned house. The floral wallpaper had discoloured and over time had started to fall away from the wall. Framed black and white photos were dotted across the walls. Rob took his time to look at each picture. All of them showed a Priest standing outside a church with a little girl holding onto his hand. As Rob looked along the row of photos, he noticed the sky gradually fall darker, and the image of the girl became blurrier. Underneath the trail of pictures were scratches along the wall. Rob saw a broken fingernail embedded in one of the marks.

A cat meowed behind him, and he quickly turned and saw the animal disappear into a basement doorway. Rob was cautious, he used his phone to light up the darkness, but it barely penetrated the basement steps. Curiosity got the better of him, and he carefully walked down the wooden stairs into the dark. He caught a whiff of sulphur and instantly held his hand against his nose. It smelt awful, like rotten eggs and it made his eyes water, but it did not stop him venturing further.

Back outside, Kevin had entered the garage through a broken wooden door on the side of the building. There was a dirty red lamp on a workbench near the door that gave Kevin the light he needed to search the room. Scattered across the floor lay decaying leaves, weathered cobwebs covered the walls, and behind them, the tiled back wall was stained with splashes of blood. Kevin looked around and noticed boxes of pictures and newspapers scattered about the place. He knelt to look through one of the boxes. Inside Kevin found similar images to that of which Rob had found inside, except in these ones the little girl's eyes had been scratched out. Kevin glanced over at the far wall and noticed a box with writing on it, though he could not understand the foreign lettering. He picked up one of the pictures from the crate and saw on the back, the words 'Legion will rise once more.'

"Who's Legion?" he muttered to himself.

Kevin put the picture back into the box and continued to nose around. He looked down at one of the newspapers. 'Priest's daughter missing' was one of the many headlines written across the publications about this strange little girl. As he picked up the last paper, on the floor, written in blood was the symbol they had seen on the trees. Next to it was a small handprint. The handprint of a child. Kevin shuddered and, with no sign of any fuel, he headed to the house to find Rob.

Rob had reached the bottom of the basement stairs and found that the floor was drenched with brown water and the brick walls were stained black with mould. To his right, a small light suddenly ignited. Rob looked over and was perplexed with what lay before him. The room was split in two, separated by thick rusty iron bars. Behind bars against the back wall, a dirty mattress was covered with shredded bedsheets. On the opposite side, a man sat on a wooden stool facing a cracked floor length mirror. He was dressed in dusty and ripped brown jumpsuit. His bare and muddy feet were chained to the floor, and his hair was patchy with clumps clearly ripped from his scalp. Held in his right hand, a dull blade which he monotonously ran across the side of his face. In the light, Rob could see blood slowly dripping from the man's face, and for a moment Rob was sure he could see man's cheekbone protruding through the damaged skin. He stepped carefully through the water for a closer look and could hear their man muttering to himself.

"His spawn has come to breathe fire upon our souls, Lord give me strength..." the man continued to repeat the same sentence, and he repeatedly raised the blade to his face.

Rob leant his head closer to speak to the man but was interrupted. Behind the man, the girl from the pictures suddenly appeared. Rob was startled and jumped back from the man. Standing without any shoes on in a filthy and colourless dress, the girl looked over at Rob with her finger to her lips, signalling for him to be quiet. The stare from her large dark eyes made goosebumps erupt along Rob's spine.

"Hey, Rob!" Kevin shouted from the floor above.

Rob turned his head towards Kevin's voice for a moment, and when he glanced back the bars, the man and girl had all vanished. For a moment Rob froze as he tried to comprehend what he had seen. Without any way of understanding the scene before Robb quickly left the basement. At the top of the stairs, he found Kevin waiting in the doorway.

"Well?" Rob asked Kevin.

"Nothing mate, just boxes of rubbish. What about you, what were you doing down there?" he replied.

"Oh, nothing I thought I heard something but turned out to be a dead end. I guess we had better tell the others there's no fuel." Neither Rob nor Kevin wanted to tell the others what they had found if they could not quite believe themselves how would the others?

Kevin agreed, and they walked back to the others who were still sitting in the car. Rob knocked on the window. "You might as well get out of the car," he said.

"Why?" Katherine asked, looking up at them.

"There's no one at the house and no sign of anything we can use. I'm sure I saw a sign that pointed to a nearby village, we'll have to head there." Rob opened the door to allow everyone to get out. They walked for about twenty minutes before any of them spoke a word, waiting for someone to break the silence. Each member of the group looked over their shoulder, unaware of any danger that lurked behind them.

"I'm getting cold," Cindy hinted at Adam to give her his coat.

He sighed, "Only if I get a kiss."

Cindy smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. Adam took off his coat and placed it on her shoulders. As Cindy thanked Adam, the village appeared from amidst the fog.

It was small and was made up of Tudor-style homes. The houses were cold and foreboding, obviously, empty without human touch for years. The only streetlight that worked was suspended over a sign that pointed back towards Emerald Street. The group walked past several houses and moved into the village square. In the middle of the square was a tall concrete pillar with a clock face. It stood within a dry fountain; the hands of the timepiece were frozen at three thirty-three. In unison, Adam and Rob both looked at their watches. Both had stopped working.

"Wow, that's freaky" Adam laughed nervously. He was spooked.

Rob looked around and spotted a nearby pub with its lights still on. "Look that pub's still open. Let's go in for a pint." He grinned at the group and began to walk away.

"A pint? Rob, we need to get some fuel so we can get out of here and get to the party," Katherine moaned.

"Hey, do you really think the guys in there will have any? Doubt it, so we might as well face the fact we'll properly be stuck here for the night" Rob carried on walking towards the pub. Most of the others soon followed, silently admitting that Rob was probably right.

Only Katherine loitered behind. "There might be a farmer about or someone who can give us some fuel." The rest of the group did not listen to her and continued to walk. Katherine eventually followed them.

They walked over to the pub with a sign 'The Horsemen' hanging over the entrance. Rob pushed the heavy wooden door open and slowly stepped inside.

The bartender stood behind the bar. He was a tall, stocky man with broken glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He cleaned a glass with a dirty rag while two men sat opposite him. Both patrons were dressed like farmers and were staring into their half-empty pints of beer. Around a table in the far-right corner, four gentlemen dressed in old tattered suits sat playing cards. They kept the excitement to a minimum.

"It sure seems lively in here," Adam laughed. He walked up to the bar creaking along the floorboards as he went. He leant against the bar and asked the bartender for a pint of lager.

"A pint of what?" the bartender asked. "Sorry mate, we only serve ale. So, what will it be?" he replied.

"Oh. Be a pint of your finest ale then please," Adam replied sarcastically. Rob and Kevin ordered the same. Katherine only had a half, while Cindy asked for a whisky and coke and, to her surprise, she got one. They all sat down at a nearby table except for Rob who stayed at the bar and talked to the men staring into their pints.

"You wouldn't, by any chance, know where the nearest fuel station is?" Rob asked.

"You should have passed it on the way into the village," the bartender replied.

"Oh, really, all we seemed to pass was an abandoned house."

"That's right, they closed the fuel station years ago. They stopped giving us fuel a while back now, seemingly it wasn't making enough money. We don't need one around here anyway, no one ever leaves the village." The bartender put his glass away and poured himself half a pint. He took a swig and rested his elbow on the bar. "What are you five doing around here, anyway?"

Rob took a sip of his drink. "Don't actually know, we got lost, and then some weird things began to happen, and we found ourselves walking into your village."

"Was the road out?" The bartender asked.

"Yeah, how do you know?"

"Don't worry, it is always happening, you must have taken a wrong turn."

The second man at the bar raised his head. "That'll be her."

The bartender looked over at him. "Shut it, Pete, don't start talking that bollocks again."

"No, it's not bollocks, why else have we been stuck in this village for years on end, I'm telling you that bloody vicar left us with that demon."

The other man turned back to Rob. "Sorry about Pete, just ignore him, and he'll soon shut up."

But it was too late, Rob was already intrigued, "carry on."

# Chapter 4

Alick continued to talk to his people unaware of the danger his children were in. "Instead of accepting the corrupt nature of our values and the godless politicians who judge each and every one of you from their thrones, we can stand together with our faith. We can open our eyes and rise up; against the dark clouds they have placed over our lives."

A strong gust of wind blew through the church, and the candlelight flickered.

"When we stand together brothers and sisters we shall walk from a new holy land, away from the trials and retribution of today. Together we shall live in harmony; no more corruption, no more hate, only peace. When we take control of our destiny, our Lord and creator will look down upon us with pride. The reward you ask. To live our lives with control and without fear of hatred, we shall bask in the treasures of our creator's kingdom." Alick moved from his stage and knelt. "Please bend the knee with me and let us pray."

Everyone in the church knelt and recited the Lord's Prayer. As they finish murmuring the universal 'Amen', a lone Jewish woman walked through the door to disturb the silence. The Christian onlookers frowned at the outsider interrupting the end of their service.

Alick quickly recognised her distress and politely asked everyone to leave. He hurried over the woman and placed his arm around her as she stood lost in the aisle. "Is everything alright, my dear?" Alick politely asked.

"It's Lucas, I cannot see him anywhere," the distraught woman cried.

Alick softly placed his hand on her shoulder. "We will find him; he's with my children, isn't he?"

The women pulled a torn tissue from her sleeve and wiped her tearful eyes. "Yes, he is."

"Dallas knows not to get into any trouble, they have more than likely gone back to the house. If Lucas is your boy, then you must be Adina?" Alick always felt guilty when he could not always remember the names of his flock.

"Yes, I am," Adina replied.

"Take my hand and follow me back to my house. We will look for them there." They both walked around to the back of the church to Alick's old Tudor-style house. The church and the house were the oldest buildings in the village. Alick had always prided himself on having a pristine home. The grass was perfectly cut, and there were colourful flowers arranged in symmetrical beds in front of the spotless windows. He opened the heavy wooden door and entered the hallway, ushering Adina in also.

"This is a lovely home you have Vicar," she commented, looking around curiously. She walked through into the living room where there was a brick fireplace with a stove underneath. An extravagant leather couch lay against the wall opposite the stove. Biblical paintings hung around the room in bronze frames, and a floral-patterned rug covered most of the varnished wooden flooring.

He smirked. "Please call me Alick. Can I pour you a cup of tea, Adina?"

"That would be lovely, thank you."

Alick walked to the back of the house and into the kitchen. Inside he was shocked to find Dallas sitting on the floor in front of the cooker. He looked inconsolable and grasped onto Katie's teddy bear, which was smeared with blood.

"Dear lord!" Alick rushed over to the boy and held him close. Adina heard the vicar's cry and entered, holding her hand to her mouth in horror when she saw Dallas.

"Who did this to you?" Alick asked.

"The beast has taken her father!" cried Dallas.

Alick grabbed him by the cheeks and stared into his eyes. "What do you mean the beast has taken her?"

Dallas glared back at him. "We've failed father. She's gone, whatever it was it took them."

Adina hurried over and knelt. "Lucas, what's happened to Lucas?"

Dallas looked at Adina, a single tear fell from one of his eyes. "I'm so sorry, they've fallen to his hands."

She suddenly became hysterical. "Him!"

"Legion," Dallas mumbled.

Adina jumped up and took a step back, wringing her hands in front of her. Floods of tears streamed down from her face, and her breath came in gasps.

"Dallas, are you sure it was Legion? You know he can't come here."

"I don't know for certain," Dallas replied swallowing hard, "but something came out of the basement and attacked us. It killed the others, and I ran, I didn't get a full look at it, but I've never seen anything like that before. It must have been him."

Alick put his arm around Dallas and tried to comfort him, hiding his own fear deep inside.

"Who's Legion?" Rob asked.

"The devil," the old man replied.

Rob appeared confused. "Hang on, why would 'Legion' take Lucas and the others?"

The barman intervened. "Alick had lived here all his life, he served in the army, and when he came back, he returned a religious man. He often left the village and would travel the world. While he was travelling parts of Europe, spreading the word of our Lord and aiding those who needed the help of Christ, he stumbled across a poor, destitute girl."

"Let me guess her name was Katie?" Rob pulled out a picture he had taken from the house. "Was this her?" he held out one of the photographs he had found.

The barman studied the picture for a heartbeat. "That sure is her," he laughed. "Not soon after she disappeared, weird things started to happen. People began to disappear, there were unusual weather patterns, and not soon after, we became cut off from the world. Alick then found his wife hanging in the church, and he fled the village not long afterwards."

Katherine got up from the table and headed over to the bar. "Excuse me, but would you know anywhere we can stay for the night? It doesn't look as if we're going to get out of here any time soon," she scowled pointedly at Rob.

"I have a couple of rooms upstairs that you could stay in for the night," the barman offered.

She smiled at him. "Thanks, that would be great. How much do you want for the rooms?"

"Your money's no good here, I'll let you stay in them for free providing you have a few more drinks down here. We haven't had any new customers for some time."

"In that case, we'll have another round please," Kevin shouted up from the table.

The barman poured more drinks, Rob and Katherine took them over to the table and then sat down with the others.

"Those guys are interesting to talk to," Rob said with a low voice.

"Why?" Adam asked.

"Well, the other day in our history lecture, we had a substitute teacher. Called himself Professor Swain. You remember Cindy?"

"Please don't Rob, what he was saying was a load of rubbish," Katherine replied.

"Why is it something, spooky?" Adam smiled. "Fitting to have a scary story at a time like this."

"Well, perhaps if you didn't both fail your exams you would have been at university to find out for yourself," Cindy chastised sticking her tongue out at Adam and Kevin.

"Anyway, this professor guy started talking to us about Heaven and Hell and all that. He went on about who God really is and who the Devil really is. He reckoned they are both brothers and each had their own children . . ."

"We already know that," Adam interrupted.

"No, but the way he told us was as if he actually knew them. You know as if Damien was his own and coincidently the Devil's daughter was called Katie," Rob continued.

"Like the girl from the pictures?" asked Kevin.

"Exactly, that's what I thought when I saw them, and to add to the story the guys over there," he pointed towards the bar, "said that when the girl came to the village weird things started happened and then she suddenly disappeared."

"That teacher was nuts, I can't believe you buying into that crap!" Cindy laughed.

"I don't know. Some of the stuff he was saying seemed very real and the papers he gave us, there was some freaky shit on those." Rob said, shaking his head. "When we went into that house earlier, some symbols matched the ones Swain gave us."

"You're just trying to scare us now," Katherine snapped. She pulled away from the table and approached the bar. "Excuse me but do you have a working telephone?"

"Sorry love phone hasn't been working for years, but you can try it if you want," the barman replied. "It's over there near the toilet." He gestured over to a dark corner of the room.

Katherine walked towards the corner and found an old grey rotary phone sitting on a shelf. She swept away the cobwebs from the receiver and placed it to her ear. Katherine slowly dialled her parent's number with each digit an effort due to the accumulation of several years of dust. After she spun to the last digit, all she could hear was static. She listened carefully, pressing the receiver to her ear, and thought she could hear a faint voice. From what she could tell, it sounded like a young boy calling for someone. "Katie, can you hear me? Where are you?" she made out. The name Katie was then repeated softly by the boy's voice. "Katie, Katie, Katie." Katherine moved the phone away from her ear, but to her surprise, the voice deepened. "Get here, you little bitch!" which was immediately followed by a blood-curdling scream. Katherine slammed the phone down and hastily turned around.

"Hear anything?" the barman asked, looking over at her.

At the risk of sounding stupid Katherine replied. "No, not a thing, it's just like you said it doesn't work."

Katherine made her way through a nearby door and into the toilet. Like the phone, the room was dusty with cobwebs falling from the ceiling and attaching themselves to each cubical. The mirrors were barely visible underneath a layer of dirt. Katherine sat in the only clean cubical she could find, and after a few moments, she realised she could hear a little girl giggling.

Almost afraid to ask in case she heard a reply, Katherine called out. "Hello? Who's there?"

"Hello, who's there?" the voice echoed.

Katherine sat silent and did not respond, she heard the unseen person walk out of the room. She finished on the toilet and flushed the chain, slowly opening the door she approached the sinks. Katherine wiped her palm across the mirror so she could see her reflection. She took a deep breath and then washed her hands and splashed water on her face to freshen up. As she moved her hands away from her face, she became aware of something in her periphery vision. Katherine started into the mirror and a little girl, similar the one from the side of the road, stood behind. The girl's eyes were open wide with distress and glared directly into Katherine's own.

"You should not have come here, now you're all going to die." Blood began to pour from the girl's face as she smiled eerily with her toothless black gums. Katherine quickly turned away from the mirror, but no-one was standing behind her. The girl had disappeared. Katherine washed her face with water again and rubbed her eyes, trying to remove the image of the girl from her mind.

She walked back to the others and whispered into Kevin's ear as she sat down. "Did you see anyone walk out of here before me?"

"No, why? What's the matter?" he replied.

"Nothing, I just thought I saw something."

"Are you alright?" he spoke with compassion.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just feel a bit faint, that's all."

"Come on, let's go to our room. We'll see you guys in the morning," Kevin quickly finished his drink and followed Katherine out of the bar.

"It's the second door on your right," said the barman as they passed him and went towards the stairs.

"That sounds like a good idea. Why don't you help me to my room?" Cindy seductively smiled at Adam.

"Really?" Adam shot up out of his seat with surprise.

"Yes really, but you had better be quick before the offer expires," Cindy slowly stood up from her chair pushing her chest closer to Adam.

Katherine and Kevin walked through the door next to the bar, and they followed the barman's instructions up to the stairs and to their room.

"I'm going stay down here for a bit guys, get to know the locals a bit more." Rob walked over to the bar and took a seat while Cindy and Adam ran up the stairs giggling.

Rob pulled out a pack of cards from his pocket. "Any of you guys fancy a game of cards?" He shuffled the deck in his hands and flicked them back and forth.

"You seem a bit handy with those cards son," one of the men replied. "I suppose one game won't hurt. The name's Jonathan, and this is George." The two men shook Rob's hand, and they all took a seat at the nearby table.

"Do you know how to play Texas lads?" Rob asked.

"We can play that if you wish good sir, but let's start with no money, get warmed up first."

Rob dealt out the cards by which time the barman returned, poured himself another drink, and pulled up a chair to the table.

Meanwhile upstairs Katherine and Kevin had entered their room. It appeared to not have been slept in for some time. The pristine wooden floor was partially covered with a royal-blue rug, and the walls were adorned with green and red floral paper. In front of a golden metal framed bed was a large and heavily varnished dark brown dresser. Kevin felt the room too grand for the likes of him to stay him, but that did not stop him from jumping onto the bed. Either side of the bed was a small set of draws in a similar style to the dresser. Sitting atop one of them was an old black and white television. Kevin found a small fat remote at the foot of the bed and switched the television on.

Katherine opened the door to the adjoining bathroom and found that it too looked a class above them. In the far corner, a luxurious white bath stood on four golden legs with a set of golden taps in the middle. Surrounding the tub and sink were detailed floral green tiles. Another royal-blue rug lay on the floor in front of the basin. "While you mess with the television, I'm going to run a bath," she called out to Kevin and closed the door.

Kevin didn't really pay much attention; he was too was frustrated. Every channel he tried stated 'please stand by' across the screen, that was until he found the only working channel, broadcasting an old black and white western. Not something he found interesting, but it would have to do.

In the other identical room nearby Cindy and Adam spent no time in getting to know each other more intimately. They lay on the bed, caressing each other's bodies while they kissed passionately.

"This is a bit sudden," Adam raised his head with a smile.

"Like you haven't always wanted me, I've seen the way you look at me," Cindy responded by stroking his face. She rolled him over onto his back and held him down by grabbing his wrists.

"So, what shall we do now?" Adam stared into her eyes.

She giggled "Well..." Cindy let go of him and kissed his neck and then made her way down his body.

Katherine stopped the taps on the bath, the steam from the hot water had filled the room. She undressed and stepped into the tub with an instant sigh of relief as her foot hit the water. She lay down and sprinkled water over her body and before long she had fallen asleep.

The sun shone down on Katherine's skin and evaporated every drop of sweat from her forehead. She stood in the middle of a field with strands of hay stroking her hips as it danced in the wind. She walked to the edge of the field and up to a white gate, moulded with age. It creaked open and revealed an old deteriorated farmhouse. She walked up to a winding path to the front door and pushed it open. Floating dust sparkled from the faint sunlight that broke through the boarded windows as Katherine stepped inside. The word 'Katie' was scratched into the walls, the blood within the scratches gave the impression someone had used their nails to make the marks. In the air, the sound of a girl being hit could be heard. The screams from her mouth echoed throughout the house, and a chill shivered up Katherine's spine. She looked towards the staircase and slowly made her way to the first floor.

"Hello?" Katherine shouted out.

A sudden thud made the entire house vibrate, and it was quickly followed by a haunting scream. At the top of the stairs, Katherine crept to the end of the hallway to the last room where the sounds were coming from. The door was already open, so she slowly leant her head around the doorframe. A man bent a young girl over his knee and hit her with a cane. The girl lifted her head, and her eyes met Katherine's. Tears of blood rolled down her face as she yelped out in pain.

After the next hit, the light in the room disappeared, and Katherine could only see the little girl and the shadow of the man. The girl reached out to her and whispered "Katherine."

Katherine shot up in the bath in a cold sweat, sloshing freezing water everywhere. She jumped up out of the bath shivering, she looked for the closest towel but noticed a white bathrobe hanging on the door. Katherine wrapped herself in the thick woollen robe and pulled her hair back with a thin hair band from the pocket of her jeans. Only then did she look into the mirror hanging above the sink. On the mirror's misty surface, she read two faint words. 'Leave now.'

Cindy rolled off the bed. "I'm going to get changed out of these clothes, so you get yourself comfortable." Cindy walked into the bathroom and stripped out of her clothes and down to her bra and knickers. She looked at herself in the mirror and ruffled her hair and pouted her lips. She shuffled her breasts to maximise her assets. Cindy slowly opened the door and flirtatiously moved her leg down the door frame.

"Ready or not, here I come." She lifted her head and looked over at the bed. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw. Cindy fell to her knees and screamed louder than she ever had before. Adam's body hung from the ceiling nailed to a cross. His eye sockets were empty, there were scratches on his skin where the eyeballs had been ripped out. His mouth had been pulled open so far, the skin on his cheek had torn open, and the letter 'K' had been cut into his forehead. A crown of thorns was placed around his head. The thorns pierced his skin and left tear-like trails of blood dripping down his face. His chest and stomach had been sliced open, and his innards viciously ripped out. Inside his bare chest was a burning candle. The torn skin around Adam's chest had started to blister from the heat of the flame. Beneath him, a pool of blood gathered around his stomach and intestines. In the middle of the organs lay his heart. It was still beating. Adam lifted his head and faced Cindy. "Run," he groaned with his tongue-less mouth.

"Oh my God." Cindy held her hand over her mouth and attempted to hold back the vomit. She moved her eyes away from Adam's body, and in the corner of the room, she saw a little girl Katherine clutching a teddy bear. The girl stood laughing hysterically.

She then began to sing. "You're going to die; you're going to die." The girl childishly skipped to Cindy, pulling a rusty butcher's knife from her back as she went. The tip of the blade was stained with blood. The girl lifted the knife to Cindy's neck as she stifled a sob. She knew that she would not be leaving the room alive. The sound of flapping wings from the window was quickly followed by a deafening roar. Both Cindy and the girl turned their heads towards the sound.

"Damn, he's here already," the girl cursed.

The silhouette of a creature edged ever closer to the window. Before long it smashed through the glass causing a horrendous tremor throughout the pub.

In a nearby room, Katherine hurried out of the bathroom now dressed in her clothes "What was that?"

"Don't know sounds like it came from Adam and Cindy, they must be having a good time," Kevin laughed.

Katherine grabbed Kevin by the hand and dragged him off the bed. "Come on, that sounded bad." They made their way to Adam and Cindy's room. Kevin tried to turn the door handle, but the heat from the handle blistered his hand, and he pulled it away in pain. Katherine banged on the door. "Guys are you alright?" she called out. There was no answer.

On the other side of the door, the beast climbed to its feet. It stood seven feet tall, and its wings eclipsed Cindy. It breathed steam through its nostrils as it brought its wings together. Cindy could see the beast in all its glory. A large serpent-like tongue was enclosed between its sharp dagger-like fangs, and its muscular torso was wrapped in scaly skin. From its forehead, right down to its long tail blood red spikes protruded from the body.

"It's a pleasure to have you with us Samael," the girl spoke as she sat on the side of the bed swinging her legs. She was undisturbed by the sight before her and by the broken shards of glass that had cut her arms.

Samael was breathing heavily; he had not always been the ferocious Demon standing before Cindy. Many years ago, he was the Angel of Souls, he remained on Earth to watch over the dead and ensure their safe passage to Heaven. That was until he turned his back on his calling to follow Legion. Samael reached out with his fierce claws and placed his palm on the girl's head. "Good evening, Katie, as you have summoned me. I assume you have found the girl?"

"She is in the next room, but I thought we could have a little fun with this one first," Katie giggled.

The lights in the room flickered and dimmed. The beast moved closer to Cindy, with each footstep the floor trembled. "What do you want?" Cindy cried.

"So, you can speak," Katie jumped off the bed and stood beside Samael.

"Please, I beg you don't hurt me," Cindy pleaded.

"Please don't hurt me," Katie mocked Cindy's plea. "You poor pitiful whore. Why would we save the soul of such a disgusting woman who was willing to give her body to that man," Katie pointed at Adam's broken body.

"I will do anything, just don't kill me," Cindy crawled on her hands and knees to Samael and looked up at him with her red, watery eyes.

"Call her," Katie asked.

"Who?" Cindy wiped her eyes.

"Katherine, call her."

"Why?"

Katie slapped Cindy across the face. "You want to live, don't you?" she shouted.

"Are you going to kill her?" Cindy held her cheek, for a little girl Katie sure had strength behind her slap.

"You ask far too many questions," Samael growled.

"If you know her name, then call her yourself," Cindy built up the courage to challenge her adversaries.

"Not if I want my body back," Katie mumbled to herself.

Cindy looked confused "What do you mean your body?"

"Call her now!" Samael roared and grabbed her around the throat and lifted her off the floor.

"No!" she spluttered back.

"I pity you, humans," the beast laughed in Cindy's face.

Katherine banged on the door again and shouted Cindy's name.

"It looks like your friend's outside," Samael smirked, and his crimson eyes glowed.

"Run!" Cindy managed to scream.

Samael unleashed a colossal roar and tightened his grip around Cindy's throat. She kicked out to try and escape, but he was too powerful. She was unable to breathe, her eyes rolled back, and she started to lose consciousness. Before she faded into blackness, Samael loosened his grip, and she took a deep breath. For a moment, there was a sigh of relief on her face, but this was quickly wiped away as he plunged his fist into her chest. Cindy's mouth opened in a silent scream as his cold, harsh hand caressed her beating heart. Slowly and deliberately, he pulled it from her chest, and the ventricles ripped apart. Cindy watched her heartbeat three final times in the Samael's palm before her ghostly pale body slumped in his grip. Samael dropped her body carelessly to the floor.

"Katherine!" Samael roared.

"Let's get out of here," Katherine turned around without thinking to wait for Kevin. She ran to the end of the hallway and leapt down the stairs, taking two steps at a time. As her foot hit the final step, Adam and Cindy's door shattered to pieces behind her. Samael walked out from the broken door frame.

Kevin did not run. Instead, he attempted to challenge the creature before him. Kevin threw a punch but unfortunately, he was no match. Samael tossed away the thrown fist and seized Kevin's skull between his monstrous claws. He raised Kevin off his feet and laughed sadistically. "Mortals!" he said grinning as he increased the pressure on Kevin's skull and his claws tore through the skin and cracked the bone. Kevin let out a merciful cry as blood began to run down his face. Escape was out of the question, and his skull was finally crushed. Samael dropped the second body and dragged his bloodied claws across the walls slashing the paper. The floorboards groaned under the weight of the demon. Katherine was devastated with the sounds of Kevin's cry, but she knew she could not stop if she wanted to get away.

Down in the bar, Rob laid his cards on the table. "Looks like I got a full house," he sat back with his hands behind his head gloating. Katherine soon ran past, grabbing his hand as she rushed past. Rob fell back and rolled on along the floor.

"What the hell, Katherine?" he frowned as he picked himself up and wiped away the dust from his knees. He turned back to the table, and the men vaporised into ash before his eyes. "What the fu..." Rob took a step back in amazement. As he looked back towards Katherine, he saw that she had already run off out of the pub. The ceiling above the bar came crashing down, and then Samael followed with it.

"Oh shit, hang on, Katherine!" Rob followed her out of the door. They both ran into the middle of the square and stood panting. "What the hell was that?" Rob screamed.

Katherine was too busy looking for somewhere to hide to answer him. "How far is it to the car?" Katherine tried to catch her breath.

"I'd say about a mile or less, we can make it," Rob held Katherine by the shoulders. "The others, where are they?"

"Where do you think?" Katherine cried. "They're dead."

Rob released her. "Dead...?" They both heard a roar from inside the pub. "Come on, we're not getting killed by whatever that thing is," he tugged on Katherine's arm, and they ran towards the car.

Samael punched through the door to the pub. He watched from the entrance as Katherine and Rob left the village. "Carry on running children, I will get you," he whispered to himself.

"In case you forgot there's no petrol in the car," Rob remarked as they ran.

"Just try it, perhaps the engine stopped working for a moment or something, I don't know, so many weird things are happening that we need to try anything," Katherine yelled in desperation.

With the car in sight, Rob reached into his pocket for the keys, but without him doing anything the engine suddenly started. Rob stopped dead in his tracks. "What's going on?" he called to Katherine, who was a few steps behind him.

"Does it matter, the engine's running, isn't it? Just get in!" Katherine ordered.

Katherine jumped into the driver's seat and turned the headlights on. To her horror, she caught a glimpse of the little girl standing in the nearby tree line.

Rob banged on the window causing Katherine to jump. "Let me drive," he demanded.

"There's no time, get in," Katherine began to pull away.

Rob ran to the other side of the car and climbed in as Katherine reversed the vehicle to turn around. The tyres screeched and left rubber tracks as she accelerated away. Next to Katie between the trees, Samael watched the pair escape.

"Why are you letting them get away?" Katie pulled on Samael's arm.

"It makes for a better chase little girl," he replied, glancing into the night's sky.

"Watch who you are talking to, I'm no little girl, I'm just stuck here."

"Just remember, the manuscript has to be read by the hands of darkness before you can walk upon this godforsaken land again." Samael spread out his wings and pummelled the nearby trees, leaves falling to his feet. He crouched down and, taking a sudden leap into the air, he flew into the moonlight.

"Show off," Katie grumbled, watching him fly away.

The evening sky rose across the horizon. Rob and Katherine were too scared to question why the sun would appear so late into the night. The hurtled towards another car travelling on the other side of the road. Usually, they would not be too concerned. However, this car was different. It was similar, in fact, it was too similar to the very car they were sitting in. The pair glanced closer as it approached and were alarmed at what appeared to be the same car with the same passengers, but with the addition of their dead friends.

"That wasn't..." Rob trembled.

Katherine did not reply, all she could do was nod. The car flashed its lights at Katherine and the horn beeped at her excessive speed and chaotic driving. As the vehicles passed, each other Katherine stared into the eyes of one of the passengers, that passenger looked just like Katherine on their journey into the village a few hours earlier.

Rob tried to turn on the radio to take their minds off recent events, but he could not pick up a station. When he attempted to turn it off, the radio continued to play and continuously changed frequencies. He punched the radio in anger several times, but it would not switch off.

"Leave it," Katherine snapped.

Rob pulled his had away and cowered against the door, he wiped the window free from mist and looked out as the sky, which had once again darkened. After ten minutes of driving, they were still on the same road continuing forward with no sign of an end, with the forest on both sides. In the distance, Katherine saw something step out from the tree line. The closer they approached, the easier it was to make out what had stepped into the road. The little girl, clean and clothed with a smile on her face and teddy in hand, waved as they approached.

Katherine tried her best not to make any eye contact with Katie. "Oh no," she whispered to herself.

Another little girl suddenly appeared. She looked very similar to the previous, but this time she was on the other side of the road. This caused Katherine to worry even more. This little girl's clothes were torn, and she was pale skinned. She continued to smile and wave, but with malevolent eyes. They drove over a bump in the road and the car lifted off the tarmac. As the car glided in mid-air for a moment, Rob's door opened, he panicked with no seat belt on afraid he would fall out. Before Rob could move the door slammed shut. Cold chills ran down his spine, and he was overcome with fear. The car landed back on the tarmac and Katherine fought with the wheel to keep the vehicle under control. With no warning, the passenger door behind Rob opened and shut itself.

The car was silent for a moment and then; "I want my body back, Katherine," whispered Katie's voice into Katherine's ear. She gasped and looked in the rear-view mirror to see where the sound came from. Katherine cried out when she saw Katie sitting on the back seat, holding on to her teddy bear and kicking her feet. Her clothes were dirty and torn, her face was covered cuts and bruises. She saw Katherine's glance and smiled back with her toothless bloody gums.

Katherine took a big gulp. "This is my body."

"Who are you talking to?" Rob whimpered.

Katherine turned around in her seat, but Katie had vanished. As she turned back, Rob's head was looking down, towards a pool of blood at his feet. His stomach had been torn apart. He coughed his last breath, and the last droplets of blood seeped from his mouth.

Katherine was left speechless, unable to react. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and she glanced into the mirror once again. "Why do you want me?"

Katie appeared next to Katherine in replace of Rob. "You have my body. My soul can only return into the body of my descendant."

"Your descendant?" Katherine asked as she took her eyes off the road.

"Yes. You," Katie chuckled.

Katherine lifted her head and saw that Katie was now standing in the middle of the road, her innocent smile replaced by a wicked frown. Katherine slammed on the brakes, and the tires smoked. The car jolted from side to side, and she tried to swerve to avoid hitting Katie. In doing so, she ran off the road and clipped the curb. The car flipped in the air and landed on its roof. Still, at speed, the car slid down the road, with sparks igniting from the steel roof. For Katherine, it felt like an eternity before the car came to a halt. When it slowed to a stop, she could smell petrol leaking from the engine. She didn't pause for a moment and tried her hardest to release the seat belt but found that it was firmly stuck. She looked out of her window and saw the river of petrol flowing on the tarmac.

"Come on!" Katherine shouted in desperation. She wiped the blood from her forehead and then saw feet in black dolly shoes slowly approaching.

Katie knelt down next to Katherine's window. "If only you had stayed where you were, then none of this would have happened," she spoke with remorse and shook her head. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small packet of matches. "Now it's time to give me what's mine," Katie picked a match from the box and struck it between her small fingers.

"No, no, please, don't!" Katherine shrieked.

Katie opened the door and sat on the ground in front of Katherine with her legs crossed and the teddy bear under her arm. She stared into Katherine's eyes. "Can I talk to you for a while before you die?" she smirked. "You have my body, Katherine. I am cursed to walk this godforsaken world until I can die naturally in my body. Unfortunately, for the past two millennia, I have been hunted down and murdered. Sounds weird, doesn't it, but what about tonight hasn't been?" She grinned again. "Now if I can kill you and remove your soul, I can take that body and return to this world. The manuscript of Jericho has almost been recovered, and when I have it, my father will have his vengeance."

Katherine looked at the girl confused; she could hardly take in everything she was saying "Who's your father?"

Katie smiled. "You'll have to wait and see, oops sorry! You won't be alive to find out." Katie rose to her feet and walked away from the car. "This is only the beginning." Katie girl dropped the match, Katherine watched in horror as it slowly fell to the floor. "See you in hell!" Katie called to her.

The match hit the ground and ignited the petrol. The flames skated towards the car, engulfing Katherine in a fiery tomb. The fire rose for a moment and then the car exploded. Katherine flailed her arms in agony. The heat was unbearable, her skin began to blister, and her clothes melted. Her blistered skin peeled from her bones and her blood boiled.

In the distance, a police car had pulled over someone for speeding. Officer Presley walked up to the vehicle, his masculine presence intimidated the young driver who wound down his window.

"Do you know how fast you were driving sir?" Presley uttered with a strict tone.

The boy looked up at the officer. "Sorry, sir, I've only just started driving, and I'm trying to get used to the car." He cowered behind his steering wheel.

"Well for someone who has just passed their driving test you sure know what speed is. Do mind stepping out of the vehicle please," Presley took a step back and looked up from the car. As he did, he saw an explosion light up the night sky, the brightness blinded him for a moment.

"Bloody hell!" Presley said, grabbing the roof of the car for support. "Looks like it's your lucky day son, now drive home safely, please."

The boy wound his window back up and made a quick getaway. Presley ran to his car and immediately drove towards the explosion. He made a call to his station as he drove. "Do you read me, over?"

"I've got you Officer" a voice replied.

"You had better get some fire engines and an ambulance into the lanes, looks like there's been an explosion possibly one car, maybe more."

He eventually pulled up to the fire and could hear the screams of Katherine inside the car. Presley put on his gloves to try and protect his hands from the flames and attempted to open the door. The rain had started to pour from the skies and provided a little help in dampening the fire. After a couple of attempts, Presley managed to open the door.

"Grab my hand!" he called out. There was no response and seeing that the car's occupant was now unconscious, perhaps dead he grabbed her by the arm in an attempt to get her out. He pulled Katherine out of the car and tried to look away as the skin from her arm slid from the bone.

In the woods on the other side of the road, Katie watched on in delight at the terror she had brought upon Katherine.

Samael landed next to her. "I see you have had your fun, my dear. Your father will be pleased."

Katie looked up at him. "When is he coming?"

"Not yet, little girl, it's not time yet we still need the Jericho manuscript. Your once older brother is nearing its location, we must get it before he does otherwise, it will not only be these humans fighting for their existence." Samael opened his wings and flew into the sky once more.

"Bye," Katie said frowning. She then turned and vanished into the darkness. Back by the car, Katherine's seemingly lifeless body took a huge breath.

# Chapter 5

Dallas sat back in his chair as he came to the end of the article. He was unsurprised by the photo at the bottom of the page. The burnt remains of the car Katherine drove lay undisturbed in the middle of the road with the charred remains of Rob blurred from the image. There was no mention if Katherine had made it out from the wreckage alive. Amongst the trees behind the car, Dallas saw a very familiar sight. The ghostly figure of Katie stood in on her own in the darkness of the treeline. Dallas looked carefully at the image to make sure he was satisfied. Strangely, it appeared as though Katie was starring directly at Dallas. For a moment, he thought her lips moved. He blinked repeatedly, but her lips were still.

Dallas highlighted the article on the computer and selected print. He stood up and stretched, his back cracking and muscles aching. He looked around at the empty library and realised that it must be near to closing time. Dallas walked over to the printer next to the front desk, it was an old bulky model with a 'no colour' sign taped to the top. The paper sign was torn, and tea stained. Clearly, the colour ink had run out many years ago, and no one had thought to replace it. The printer required coins to use but Dallas was out of pocket, so he turned to the frail old librarian behind the desk.

"Excuse me, I need to print something out, but I haven't any change. You wouldn't be able to print this off as a one-time thing, would you?" Dallas politely asked.

The lady moved her glasses down with one finger. "As it's you, I don't see why not," she said with a smile as she pulled out her lanyard holding her access cards. "Just swipe this one across the front of the printer. Hopefully, it will work."

"Thank you," he replied. Dallas placed the card against the printer, and it logged in. He selected his file and printed the page with Katie's picture on. He then handed the card back.

"Anything exciting?" the librarian enquired.

"Nothing really, just an old newspaper clipping," Dallas quickly took his page from the printer tray, folded it into his pocket, and left the library.

Outside the evening, the sky had descended on the city, and there was a distinct chill in the air. Dallas reached into his pocket and lit a cigarette, to both satisfy his addiction and to attempt to keep the cold at bay. He let it burn between his lips, so his mouth could fill with smoke as he stepped between the oncoming traffic to cross the road. On the other side was the city's cathedral, a towering Gothic structure with a vast spire that looked as though it could pierce the sky. Gargoyles were mounted around the roof and gazed down on whoever approached. There was a stain-glassed window on the edifice depicting Yeshua on the cross. It also contained a symbol like the one Alick saw in the church all those years ago. Dallas rested against the black spiked fence surrounding the cathedral and finished his cigarette.

He let his thoughts wander for a few moments and then threw the cigarette butt to the ground and stubbed it out with his foot. He walked up to the steep stone steps towards the cathedral and the large arched wooden doors. Either side of the doors, carved from stone, were two angels. They looked forlornly down at Dallas as he pushed on the large circle handle and entered. He entered the vast expanse of the cathedral with its decorated ceiling of extravagant paintings of angels and cherubs in white clouds against a blue sky. Down the aisles, on either side of the nave, hung lavish gilt-framed pictures showing various religious figures. Columns supported the ceiling, and marble statues were evenly spaced down the edges of the aisle. Dallas padded softly on the crimson velvet carpet which led to the altar. He saw that the rows of pews before him were filled with about thirty or so people attending the late evening service. Gabriel, the local priest and Alick's old friend, was standing in the pulpit speaking to the onlookers, dressed in a long grey robe with golden stitching. Dallas took his place to the rear and sat quietly.

"That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, 'Let us go over to the other side.' Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, 'Teacher, don't you care if we drown?' He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, 'Quiet! Be still' then the wind died down, and it was completely calm." Gabriel read from a passage in Mark in the New Testament. In his peripheral vision, he saw Dallas entered the room, so he directed his next sentence towards him.

"He said to his disciples, 'Why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith?" Gabriel paused for a moment and then closed his bible. He looked up at the congregation, "I speak to you today through the eyes of our Lord Jesus Christ, he asks you not to be afraid. No matter how evil the world can always keep your faith, always keep the lord close to your heart and forever you will be safe. Never will the true forces of evil touch you when he is by your side. Now let us pray."

At this point, Dallas got up and walked to the side of the nave to stand next to the window showing the cross of Yeshua. Underneath the cross, on an elaborate stand, were four candles. Three remained unlit and were surrounding and taller candle which burnt brightly in the darkened corner. Dallas pulled his lighter from his pocket and lit the other three candles, then he knelt in front of the candles and whispered his own personal prayer. In the meantime, Gabriel had finished his service, and everyone made their way out of the cathedral. Before Dallas could get up a hand rested upon his shoulder, causing him to startle.

"Dallas it's nice to see you in one piece, the lord must be watching over you," Gabriel softly spoke.

Dallas pulled himself up and shook Gabriel's hand. "Hello, Father, I had a scare last night, but it wasn't a big problem, only the usual suspects."

Gabriel chuckled. "Please come to the back. I presume you came here for a reason."

They both walked towards a door to the rear of the altar and stepped into an office. At the back of the room was a large oak desk stacked with papers; the walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookcases containing leather-bound volumes of various literature. The only light came from a dim bulb that hung from the cracked ceiling. Gabriel filled a kettle with water from the discoloured sink in the corner. "I trust you would like a cup of tea?" he said to Dallas.

"Need you ask?" He replied with a smirk as he walked around the office and looked at all the books and encyclopaedias representing so many years of knowledge.

Gabriel poured the tea and then placed the plain, chipped mugs onto the desk. He pushed one of them towards Dallas and sat down slowly in his worn, green leather chair. "So how can I help you this evening? Take a seat, Dallas."

Dallas reached into his pocket and handed Gabriel a copy of the newspaper he had printed off at the library. "Take a look at this, Father."

Gabriel picked up his spectacles from the desk and unfolded the paper. As he studied the picture of Katherine's car burnt out his eyes widened. "I heard about this, a terrible accident, but what has it got to do with you or me, I wonder?" Gabriel placed the paper on his desk and looked up at Dallas.

Dallas pointed at the picture. "Look a little closer and take note of the treeline." Gabriel leant over the photo and move closer, his nose almost brushing the surface of the paper. "Now who do you see?" Dallas questioned.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed, and then, with sudden realisation, he gasped. "My word, it's her, its Katie. You've found her."

"Tell me, Father, why would she still be there? We searched high and low through that village for many years. There have been sightings of her all around the world, why would she appear back there? It just doesn't make sense to me."

"Dallas, you said it yourself, they were only sightings." Gabriel used a soothing tone as he spoke, he sensed that Dallas was getting worked up already. "Katie will only appear if she needs to. The girl involved in the crash; did she survive?"

"The article didn't say much only that she was in a critical condition in hospital, but the outlook didn't look good for her."

"I guarantee you she will pull through. Dallas, you must find out what hospital they have taken her to, if Katie has found this girl, then it means we're closer to finding the manuscript. This girl Katherine, she must be the host, Katie's descendant. Find her and leave this city."

"How can I leave? Grant has every cop in the city looking for me. There's no way I'll be able to make it out of here."

"Where there's a will there's a way," Gabriel replied confidently. "Dallas, trust me, if you make your way out of this city, the Lord shall help you. You said the other day, you are coming across more demons."

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with Katie reappearing?"

"They know she's coming; they must have found out where the manuscript is too. I expect that you may have a visit from Samael soon enough if he knows you're on your way to Katie."

Dallas took a deep breath and slowly nodded his head. Then with a shrug of his shoulders, he said, "Well if he is going to come and get me, I might as well have a beer first, you fancy one Father?" He joked.

"I'm afraid not Dallas, I need to stay here. I have some work to do. Please take care of yourself, Dallas."

"Well thanks for your help," Dallas said, draining his teacup and standing up. "If I don't see you again, it's been fun knowing you."

As Dallas made his way to the door, Gabriel stood up from behind his desk. "Remember Dallas, the lord will find your path," Gabriel shook Dallas' hand and led him down the aisle towards the exit. With a final goodbye, Dallas walked through the arched doorway. Gabriel watched him go, resolute in his belief that this would not be the last time he saw Dallas.

Dallas walked a few blocks and headed to the bar opposite his apartment. The décor of the bar was like that of the diner Dallas had been to earlier that day. The local neighbourhood was obsessed by the local baseball team, and the interior of the bar reflected this culture. In the corner stood pinball and gambling machines, two young labourers hung over the gamblers spending their hard-earned cash, each with a beer in one hand. The beer-soaked tables were empty except for one where an older gentleman sat with his arms resting on the tabletop as a younger woman drooped over him with a glass of vodka hanging limply in her hand. At the bar, the usual group of well-dressed men who spent most evenings in the bar following their day trading in the city's business district.

Dallas sat at the opposite end of the bar on his own, wanting to be away from any social activity. He dragged over a bowl of nuts, picked up a handful and started eating them one at a time, signalling to the barman who poured him a drink. Dallas spent so many evenings in the bar that he didn't need to specify his drink of choice. The barman walked over and placed the pint of larger on a folded napkin.

"On your own tonight?" the barman asked with an Irish twang.

"Looks like that doesn't it," Dallas replied sarcastically.

The barman sensed Dallas' need for solitude, so left him alone. He spent the next hour eating his way through the bowl of nuts and downed several more pints of larger. He pulled out the picture from his pocket and stared at it. Dallas knew what he needed to do, and he chewed at his nails as he thought about a way to leave the city. He looked over at the woman, and the old man seated nearby and had to rub his eyes, for a moment he thought he saw Katie's face on the woman's shoulders, staring at him with a devilish smile. He looked away from the woman and drank the remains of his beer.

"You want another one?" the barman asked as he took away the glass.

"Please," Dallas replied, he wiped away the drops of beer from his mouth. "Hey, has Rebecca been around here at all today?"

"No seen her," the replied barman as he poured another drink.

"Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!" A scratchy deep voice came from Dallas' right, and he became aware that someone had sat next to him. The barman placed the drink in front of Dallas. "Could I have a scotch with no ice," the voice requested. "That's what I always loved about Shakespeare; he could always tell a great, tragic love story. Now if he had ever met you and Rebecca, then wow what a work of art he would be written."

Dallas turned his head slowly to his right and was not surprised at who was sitting next to him. He would have known that voice anywhere. The man was well built and was dressed in an off-white suit with a rose-coloured tie and shirt. His strawberry blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, and his well-cut beard was fashioned to a point under his chin. He had visible tribal tattoos that reached out from his shirtsleeve and up to his knuckles. A gold watch was fastened around his right wrist. Most notable were his eyes; his contact lens had turned the colour of his irises to a dark, fiery red and Dallas could only assume his eyebrows were dyed the same colour.

"What a pleasure it is to have you next to me Damien," Dallas turned to face the bar.

"Quite the contrary Dallas, it has certainly been a while since we last met," Damien replied, he thanked the barman as he was handed his drink. "This is a fine establishment," he said gesturing around the room. Then he swilled his scotch before taking a gulp.

"Cut the bullshit Damien," Dallas scorned.

"You are in rather a bad mood tonight, Dallas. I would have thought after your find this evening you would be here celebrating, after all, you have finally found her, haven't you?"

"Is that what this is about?" Dallas smirked.

"It's a time to celebrate Dallas, you must be delighted to realise that you haven't wasted your entire existence searching for the impossible." From his pocket, Damien pulled out an extravagant thin gold casing. He placed it on the bar and opened it. Inside were a row of thin, crisp cigars and a stash of matches. He picked one up and wet the tip with his mouth before he lit a match. He took a deep breath and ignited the cigar. "My apologies, do you care for a smoke?" he offered Dallas.

"I was always told to never accept gifts from strangers," Dallas replied, taking another swig of his lager. "Exactly what are you after?" he snapped, slamming his glass onto the bar.

"My, my, you are unhappy, aren't you?" Damien smirked and sipped his drink. "The thing is Dallas, just because you know where Katie is, does not mean she is going to come to you. The little girl you once knew doesn't exist anymore, the girl in that photo is a vengeful being full of hatred for this world..."

"Vengeful, really?" Dallas interrupted.

"Yes, vengeful," Damien replied calmly.

"Go fuck yourself," Dallas spoke under his breath as he took another drink from his glass.

Damien's mood suddenly altered, his suit colour changed to dark grey and his skin darkened. The music that played from the jukebox quietened, and the remaining customers in the bar seemed to slow down. "Show me disrespect like that again, and I'll make sure you never set eyes on your beloved Rebecca again, never mind Katie."

"As you wish," Dallas sneered.

"You only knew Katie for what a year, and you think that means you know her? She is the spawn of Legion; she is destined to reign the kingdom of fire." Damien's eyes burnt brightly in his shadowy face. Then he grinned widely. "But don't worry, I'm sure she would love to have you by her side."

"It must really hurt you that you that she chose Yeshua over you, there is good in everyone, even those who are besieged by evil." Dallas continued to show Damien little respect.

"Ha, the common mistake all you mortals make. You live your lives by this natural law, love thy neighbour and all that bullshit. Have you not figured it out yet? Your world lives on anarchy, the world functions around disaster and the misfortunes of others. You all plan for bad things to happen, if you had true faith in humanity then why the armies? Why have governments, hell why even have insurance? You all live on greed and lust, to outshine and outlive thy neighbour." Damien flicked his cigar ash on the floor.

"You are entitled you your opinion," Dallas nodded, utterly unfazed by Damien and his tirade on the mortal world.

"Not getting through to you I see," Damien grinned. "Very well." Damien stood up from his stool.

The bulbs in the bar gave off a dark red light, and the streetlights outside switched off. The tiles on the ceiling collapsed and broke into pieces as they hit the floor. A metal fence wrapped in barbed wire replaced the ceil. Outside of the fence flames erupted from rusty steel pipes to the side. From high above in the darkness, skinless bodies hung from chains and were scorched by the fire. To Dallas' disgust, the bodies opened their eyes and screamed out in agony. Dallas looked away in horror, the walls around him crumbled and were reshaped with huge iron industrial cogs. Finally, the floor broke apart, and in its place, the metal fence came into view. Blood drained through the teeth of the gears and into a river of blood that flowed through a valley beneath Dallas.

"Join us Dallas," Damien's skin had burnt away, and small flames were igniting on his suit.

"Try as many illusions as you like," Dallas ignored Damien's appearance and turned back to the bar to enjoy his drink.

An intense burst of fire appeared at the far side of the room, a wooden cross burning in its centre. Dallas turned towards to flames and became distraught when he realised who was nailed to the cross. An older Katie in her late teens was cruelly attached to the wooden surface, with corroded nails through her wrists and feet. She was naked, with deep cuts across her stomach and breasts. Katie lifted her head and glanced over at Dallas with a wicked smile. She licked her lips and pulled her arm away from the cross, the nail ripping through her wrist.

"Dallas listen to him. Join us, you know it's right," she whispered, walking towards where he sat, paralysed on his barstool. "Come to me, I want you inside me," she brushed her sharp fingernails across her breasts and down her body leaving scratches behind. She caressed herself between her legs and groaned.

Dallas blinked hard, wanting the image in front of him to disappear. He suddenly jumped from his stool and grabbed Damien by the throat. Holding the suited man against the bar, he shouted in his face, "Stop this now, Damien!"

"Stop what?" Damien grinned sadistically. "Dallas the sight before you, she is the real Katie. Come on, look at her," Damien moved his eyes towards her. "Submit to me, and you can do as you please to her, you can give in to the urges no mortal woman can satisfy."

"I will end you," Dallas clenched his fist and threw a punch at Damien. His fist went through Damien's face as he disappeared into nothingness. Dallas fell forward into the bar.

"Hey, is everything okay there?" the barman asked.

Dallas took a step back and found himself standing back in the room he knew so well. Everything was back, pinball and gambling machines, even the couple at the nearby table. No one else seemed in a state of shock. Clearly, they hadn't just witnessed the horror that Dallas had experienced. "Yeah, I'm fine," Dallas replied, shaking his head.

"I think you may have had enough to drink tonight," the barman said as he took away the empty glass in front of Dallas.

Dallas looked at where Damien had sat and found that there was no stool or drink. "Where has the guy gone who was sat next to me?" Dallas asked.

"What, chap?" The barman replied, frowning. "You've been sat here on your own all evening," he placed the empty glass in the washer. "You need me to call you a cab?"

"It's alright I can walk from here," Dallas laughed, trying to reassure himself. He turned to the door to leave but saw someone in a white suit walk past the bar on the other side of the road. Damien looked over at Dallas and smiled. Dallas quickly followed in his footsteps and walked from the bar to chase Damien down, but after just a few moments there was no sign of him. Alone in the twilight of the streetlights, Dallas stumbled alone back to his apartment.

# Chapter 6

Across the city, the old, and once abandoned townhall had been converted into a dank and soggy late-night market. The rain dropped through the gaps in the ceiling where the felt roof tiles had rotten. The glass in the windows was shattered, and the now empty frames were boarded up. Inside there were hundreds of small stalls and some self-enclosed shops. Despite how late into the evening it was, there were hundreds of shoppers.

Grant was taking a break from tracking the movements of Dallas. On his own in his long trench coat with his collar up against his neck, he was stood resting against an uneven table set on long legs. He slouched over with a box of greasy noodles and ate with a plastic fork. A trickle of rain landed into a puddle next to him.

A woman approached Grant. She was barely dressed in a short mini skirt and a tight t-shirt with her stomach showing. Her arms and shoulders were clothed with a skinny leather jacket. Her face was plastered with makeup, and her shockingly pink hair was scrunched up into a bun.

"Can I help you?" Grant grunted with a mouth full of food.

"You look like you need some company sunshine," she seductively smiled at him and rubbed her hand inside his coat.

"Move your hand; otherwise, I'll break it," Grant did not move.

"Freak," she scorned and walked away.

Grant chuckled to himself and continued eating his food. He glanced behind and watched her move onto her next prospect.

"Not interested in the local talent?" another woman came before Grant. This time she was more familiar to him. She was not dressed like that of the previous girl. She was subtler with her looks, dressed in a long black dress with a see-through anorak on and her hood up.

"I'm not looking to get my wallet pinched if that's what you mean," Grant replied. He did not know the name of the woman or where she lived, she was his source of information from those who sat beyond the law.

"You should give one of them a try some time, it wouldn't hurt to relax occasionally," she laughed.

"Do you have anything for me this time, or is this another pointless visit?"

She placed a brown envelope delicately on the table and pushed it across to Grant. "I followed your guy earlier as you requested again. The guy leads perhaps the most boring life, you usually ask me to tail some gangster, and yet you have me watching over a wet blanket," she muttered with a wry smile.

"A wet blanket..." Grant picked up the envelope. "Perhaps you should try following him during the evenings, and you will see a different side, or would that mean you'd have to take a night of the corner?" He joked back and opened the envelope.

"Cheeky bastard, like you won't be having me coming around later. The guy left the picture on the printer earlier, must have printed it twice by mistake." She paused for a moment and then asked. "Why is he printing pictures of little girls, have you got me tailing a nonce?"

"You couldn't be so far from the truth if you tried." Grant inspected the picture of Katie that Dallas had grabbed from the article.

"Bit of a messed-up story that, the girl in the article getting burned alive like that."

"Where did he go after he left the library?" Grant ignored her remark and tucked the picture into his coat pocket.

"Just to the church and then to some bar, nothing too exciting."

"Is that it, you didn't go in and hear who he spoke to?" Grant became irritated.

"Erm me in a church?" she sniggered. "I think I would burn if I walked in one of those with the number of dog collars I've felt."

"So, what about the bar?" Grant asked, slouching back over his noodles.

"I was barred from that particular establishment last year for stabbing some John in the leg for not paying," she replied frankly.

Grant shook his head. "Is there any place that you're welcome in?"

"Your officers still welcome me with open wallets," she smirked.

"Hilarious, thanks for the ever-useful information, enjoy yourself," he passed her another brown envelope full of money.

She opened the envelope and ran her fingers through the notes, she always took great satisfaction from taking money from Grant, it was even better when it was for little information. She pulled out the money and folded them into her bra. As she turned around, she let out one last piece of information. "Oh, one thing I forgot to mention, these last few weeks you've had me following him, I've noticed the same blacked out limo pass by."

"So?" Grant bluntly replied and seeing any significance in this fact.

"I'm aware there are hundreds in the city, but I recognised the same driver every time."

"Did you get the licence plate?"

"My bad, I was too focused on the driver, not too shabby. It's been a blast as always," she winked and walked away.

Grant shook his head and frowned. He turned away and threw his empty noodle box into a nearby trash can. From his inside pocket, Grant pulled out a cigarette, quickly lit up, and he blew smoke into the rain, letting the stick burn between his fingers. He walked between the crowds of late-night shoppers. Once outside, he stood at the side of the path and flagged down a taxi. A black car pulled up with a skinny old driver.

"Station, please," Grant flashed his police badge to get a free ride.

"You can put that out first," the driver sighed gesturing towards the still burning cigarette.

Grant flicked the butt into the gurgling drain and climbed into the car. The journey didn't take long, in fact, he could have walked, but did not fancy getting soaked in the rain. The car soon pulled up outside the police station. Grant stepped out the taxi and threw some cash to the driver without thanking him. The five-story gothic police station was one of the oldest buildings in the city. It had been built by the leader of a satanic cult who used it as the hub where many of his sadistic plots were organised. Once several women had been accidentally killed, and the local Mayor made sure the cult was expelled from the city and ordered the police force to move into the building to prevent any copycats. Grant was never a fan of it, especially the spiked fence on the roof that was surrounded by gargoyles. As he walked up to the steep steps to the entrance, he gazed up to the gargoyles who stared down, their mouths gaping open as if in horror.

Inside Grant made his way through the reception, which was currently home to the usual scantily clad streetwalkers who lined up against the wall waiting to be booked in for the night. Another woman was shouting at the receptionist, demanding to see her husband, who was locked up. Grant walked past and smiled at the woman behind the desk, who rolled her eyes in response. He scanned his card across a small panel to the left of a door and walked into the hallway away from the noise. A nearby elevator took him up to his office on the third floor.

Grant settled at his desk in the dull and open office. He rested his left foot on his desk and slouched back in his chair. His desk was littered with files and the computer screen surrounded in post-it notes. There was an almost empty whiskey bottle next to a dead cactus plant. He lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply, blowing out smoke to join the plumes of tobacco already mingling about the heads of those in the room. He was still angry over the way Dallas had escaped him. Grant did not want to arrest him again without being sure he could not escape.

Another officer walked up to Grant and threw a file on his desk. "Looks like it's your lucky day boss, they've finally translated those books for you," the officer had a smile on his face as he turned away.

Grant immediately sat up in his chair, stubbed out his cigarette and quickly opened the file. "Thanks" he called to the officer bending over the paperwork eagerly. Grant had been waiting for these files for a while. He had come across the originals during a raid on one of Dallas' old apartments. They were all written in an ancient language, which only a handful of people knew. It had taken a while for Grant to find someone in the city who knew how to translate it. Grant opened his desk drawer and pulled out a glass, he opened the whiskey bottle and poured out the last of the contents. He took a swig and began to read the translated file.

Before time began in our Universe, two twins were born in the House of Gods, Yahweh and Legion. When they were old enough, a new Universe was born for them to look upon. Yahweh the stronger brother became the Father of the Universe and Legion was to help him. A castle built upon a floating island above the spirit world where Yahweh sat on his throne. The island settled within the spirit world which gave homage to the Angels of God. Heaven was created for an eternal resting place for all of Yahweh's other creatures.

Both brothers had offspring; Yahweh had Damien; Legion had Katie. The Virgin Mary gave birth to Yeshua the believed son of Yahweh. During the reign of the Romans, virgins were raped. Joseph was asked by Yahweh to look after Mary and Yeshua, and in return, he would be rewarded in Heaven. Yeshua would be known as Yeshua Ben Youssef the salvation for mankind and the protector against Legion, the true son of Yahweh. Damien took a dim view of this and became enraged with jealousy. Damien and Katie grew up together, and he fell in love with her, but his passion was not reciprocated. When Katie learned of Legion's ways, she fled to Earth to escape him and while travelling, she came across paths with Yeshua, they did not know of each other...'

Grant wanted to continue reading, but he needed a toilet break first. The whiskey had a quick effect on his bladder. After he relieved himself, he hurried back to his desk.

Nearly two thousand years ago, Damien walked through a small village flea market. He had just finished a long journey travelling from the spirit world. The market was full of people haggling, buying produce, cloth, and other goods. This was all new to Damien he had never seen such people, very rarely had he left the realms of the spirit world. These people were dirty, unshaven, and were wearing clothes he would never have dreamed of. 'How can my father let people live like this?' he asked himself. Of course, to these people, this was perfectly normal.

Damien had come here for a reason. He had heard rumours amongst the Angels that Legion was planning a revolt amongst the spirit world. Before this time there was no Hell or Demons, and Legion was not the Lord of the Underworld. In this particular market, stood the House of Samael, the Angel of Souls. He stayed on earth to watch over the dead and carry them to heaven.

In the middle of the bustling market was the house, to which Damien steadily walked towards. Many of the buildings in the village were made from dried mud, and hay roofs while the house was built in sturdy stone. Damien walked up to the marble steps, and the awaiting Roman guards crossed their swords to deny entrance.

"You may not enter," one of the guards said.

"Tell him Damien is here," he replied confidently.

"He has never mentioned any Damien I'm afraid so you cannot enter. Now please remove yourself," the guard pushed Damien back.

A hand appeared behind the guard and touched his shoulder. "It's ok I know him," a voice spoke. "Please do follow me, Damien."

Samael made way for Damien to get past. Samael was not one of the strongest Angels; he always opted to use his mind. They walked down a corridor, and Damien looked around at the luxury of the interior. The floors were made from smooth grey marble slab, and hand-carved statues of angels stood along the walls, which were interspersed with gilt-framed paintings. A crystal chandelier with candles hung from the high ceilings. Samael escorted Damien up a spiral staircase and into his office.

"Take a seat, Damien," he gestured to a cushioned chair. "Would you like a drink?" Samael asked. Two of the office's walls were filled with two large bookcases representing thousands of pages of literature and centuries of knowledge. A Persian rug covered the floor, and an oak table sat in front of the floor-to-ceiling window.

"Please," Damien replied, accepting the offer as he sat down in front of the desk.

Fitted snugly into the centre of one of the bookcases was a discrete wine rack. Samael pulled out a bottle of red wine and took two crystal wine glassed from the small table in the corner. He pulled the cork from the bottle and filled both glasses. "So why have you graced me with your presence?" he asked, passing over the drink.

Damien took a sip and considered how to begin. "I've heard several things from certain people back home about Legion's plans to overrule my father."

"What exactly have you heard?" Samael frowned sinking into his chair on the other side of the desk.

"I've been told that Legion has several Angels and thousands of spirits ready to overthrow him and send him to the Valley of Damnation. He plans to destroy Mankind, but for what reason, I cannot gather."

"Damien, can you remember your mother?" Samael asked.

"Father never speaks of her," Damien replied.

"Your mother was not exactly matched with your father's goodwill."

"How do you mean?"

"She was never in love with your father," Samael said bluntly, "she always lusted after Legion, he was the man she wanted. Legion lusted for her too."

"Are you trying to tell me that my mother was a whore?" Damien aggressively lent forward.

"Easy child, not at all I'm merely saying she followed her heart's desire. She and Legion become somewhat more than friends. Legion's wife knew this, but she wanted Legion to be happy, so she kept quiet. Michael one of Yahweh's closest Angels saw your mother leaving Legion's room one night, and he told Yahweh of this betrayal. Yahweh, the Almighty saw this as a great betrayal and ordered his wife to be imprisoned immediately. When he found out that Legion's wife knew she too was imprisoned. Legion himself was not confined, Yahweh only stripped him of his duties to the universe, he could not punish his own flesh and blood. Yahweh placed both women before a court who found the pair guilty, but it was for Yahweh to decide upon punishment. He was unable to look his wife in the eyes as he decided the only punishment could be death."

"How could my own father kill my mother?" Damien asked.

"Your father sees adultery as a deadly sin, once you marry someone, you must keep yourself to that person for the rest of your life. The women were killed. Legion accepted this at first and thanked your father for having mercy on his soul. Yahweh ordered that all Angels were removed of their free will so he would not have a repeat of these events. When your father gave mankind free will and allowed them to live in sin, this became the last straw for Legion, and he has now decided to take vengeance for the two women he loved. Romantic isn't it" Samael laughed. He got out of his chair and walked over to the window. "Tell me, how do you feel about your father's actions?"

Damien drained his glass and then turned to Samael. "I believe a man should have to right to choose how he lives his life. This should be the same for Angels and anyone else who lives in the spirit world for that matter."

"And Yeshua, how do you think he should he be able to live his life?"

A frown appeared on his face "What do you mean?"

"The way your father treats him," Samael began to taunt Damien, "It's got to hurt knowing that you own father wishes a human child instead of his own flesh and blood."

Damien jumped out of his chair, dropping his glass to the floor as he did so. "No, he does not!" he bellowed.

"You know as well as me he does, it's just a matter of what you're going to do about it," Samael replied calmly.

Damien breathed deeply and tried to shrug it off. "I'm not going to do anything."

"Really? In that case, why don't you pay a visit to Yeshua? He owns a farm just outside of town, he does wander time to time preaching 'God's' word, but I think he is there till Sunday. Speak to him and then come back to me. I have a horse around the back, please take it." Samael smiled slyly, and Damien stood up quickly and left the office. Sitting back in his chair, he chucked to himself.

Damien made his way to the stables at the rear of the house. Inside there was only one horse tied up lying on a bed of hay. A small dirty stable boy saw Damien approach and ushered the horse to its feet. He picked up a weathered saddle from the floor and placed it on the horse's back.

"Mister, you must be careful, he can be very aggressive," the boy walked the horse to Damien and held out the reins.

Damien did not answer the boy. Instead, he snatched the rope from him and climbed upon the horse. He kicked the horse's side, and it galloped away. The crowds of people separated to avoid being trampled, and Damien soon left the village. He continued along a dirt path across the barren land in the blazing sun until he reached the top of a hill. Here he paused to survey his surroundings; on the other side of the slope, Damien saw several people working in fields harvesting crops. A large, wooden house was located in the middle of the fields and housed the workers, although to Yeshua they were better known as his disciples. Damien spurred on the horse onwards until he came to the front of the house. He climbed down and patted the animal on his side.

"Can I help you sir?" a voice asked, and Damien turned towards it.

"I'm looking for Yeshua," he said.

"If you don't mind, can you tell me your name, please?"

"I'm Damien. Yeshua should know who I am."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Judas," the scrawny bearded man offered his hand to Damien.

The pair shook hands. "Yeshua is on his way back from a gathering he should be arriving shortly; would you like a glass of water? That trip through the sand must have been a thirsty one."

"I'm ok. Thank you, I just want to speak to Yeshua." Damien tied the horse's reins to a nearby post and walked onto the porch of the house. He took a seat near to the front door to wait for Yeshua. Judas thought nothing of it and turned away continued with his work.

After a while, Damien heard a door open. He stood up and looked through the window. Damien recognised the long-haired, bearded Yeshua walk through the back entrance and enter the sparse sitting room. However, at first, he did not know the female companion who accompanied him. Yeshua softly kissed her.

"Who is that woman with Yeshua?" Damien clicked his fingers at Judas and gestured towards the window.

"That would be Miss Magdalene, Yesui's wife."

Damien took a closer look, pressing his nose against the windowpane. The woman suddenly turned around and caught a glimpse of Damien, at which she became overcome with fright. Damien immediately knew who the girl was. Her long dark hair rested on her shoulder, and she wore a long dress to hide her perfectly shaped figure. She had eye's any man could lose themselves in.

"Katie, you lying, little, whore!" Damien cried, enraged with anger.

"Excuse me?" Judas asked from nearby. He frowned at the visitor, wondering what he had said.

"You must not tell Yeshua I was here!" Damien untied the horse and jumped back into the saddle, galloping back towards the village. Judas was left confused. He was sure he'd heard the name Katie mentioned. But who on earth was she? He walked towards the house and knocked the front door softly. Without waiting for a response, he entered and saw that only the woman was in the sitting room, reclining on a low bench.

"Miss Magdalene, may I have a word, please?" he asked her.

She greeted him with a smile. "Yes, you may Judas."

"Who is Katie?" He asked her directly.

Her eyes widened, and she sat up. "Did he tell you that name?"

"Who?" Judas played dumb.

"That man you were talking to," she attempted to keep her voice down as not to alert Yeshua who was only next door.

"Yes, I'm sure I heard him name her a whore as he looked through the window. He rode off very suddenly."

"Oh no," she muttered to herself and rubbed her face. "Which direction did he come from?"

Judas pointed to the north. "That way, miss, towards town."

"Samael!" she whispered to herself. "How could he?" She stood up suddenly and circled the bench, seemingly considering what to do with the information she had received. A moment later, she had reached a decision. "Can you tell Yeshua that I have gone into the village to fetch something please?" Judas didn't even have time to reply before she ran through the back door and climbed onto a horse. Digging her heels into the stallion, she rode toward the village as quickly as the horse would allow.

Back at the House of Samael, Damien climbed up the stairs and stormed back into the office. He slammed the door shut behind him. "How could you not tell me they were together?!" Damien screamed.

"I thought it would be better if you saw it for yourself," Samael smiled serenely from behind his desk.

Damien ran up to him and grabbed him by the throat. "You think this is funny? They cannot wed each other it's against the way we live."

Samael pushed Damien to the floor, and as he hit his face off the Persian rug, Samael's eyes darkened, and his voice deepened. "No, it's because you love her, and she has fallen for the person you despise. What would you say if I told you it was Yahweh that placed Katie in his arms?"

Damien wiped the blood off his lip and snarled. "You're lying! Father would never betray me like that!"

"Lying? No, your father has lied to you. Katie came to him to seek refuge from Legion, and he helped her escape and asked Yeshua to care for her."

Damien became tearful. "Stop, Father would not do that. Not for her, he loves me, he loves me."

"Loves you?" Samael looked down to Damien who knelt on the floor at his feet. "He's ashamed of you. You do nothing. How have you helped with your father's creations? You travel from world to world, making fun of the locals, not exactly what he had planned for you. You were supposed to be the saviour of this universe, help spread his word of peace and harmony throughout the spirit world. But instead, you swan around after your cousin! Come on, no wonder he's ashamed of you." Samael sighed and offered Damien a hand. "Now I'll ask you again, how do you feel about your father?"

Damien refused Samael's help and stood to his feet with a frown. "Fuck my father. I need to speak to Legion."

Samael grinned. "Head to the Pillars of Jericho, he's through there preparing the underworld."

Damien crouched down, his white feathered wings spreading from his back as he launched himself through the roof and into the sky. Rubble collapsed onto the floor and dust rained on Samael.

"At least use the bloody door!" Samael shouted after him, wiping the dust from his shoulders.

A moment later, the door slammed open, and Katie walked into the room, bringing a cloud of anger with her.

"Good timing," Samael laughed under his breath. "Katie, this is a pleasant surprise, or should I call you Miss Magdalene?" he welcomed her.

She stormed straight up to him, pointing her finger aggressively into his face. "How could you tell him where I was? You know what will happen if Legion finds out where I am!"

"On the contrary, I never told Damien where you were, I simply advised him to go and speak to Yeshua. It was just by chance that you happen to be there. But don't worry, he's gone now."

She breathed deeply and closed her eyes. "Where's he gone now, then?"

"To see Legion," Samael mischievously spoke as he pointed towards the hole in the roof.

Katie looked up, and her face dropped.

"And I would suggest you speak to Yahweh before Damien does," Samael said, "after all, you have broken the rule."

"What rule?" Katie asked.

"Those from the spirit world cannot marry a human and spawn offspring. That's right, Katie, I know you're with child. Now would you mind leaving, I have a roof to fix!" He ordered her out of the house.

Katie travelled back to the farm. She walked in and found Yeshua sitting in his study writing. She walked up behind him and placed her arms around him.

"Did you get what you needed from the village, my love?" Yeshua asked.

"Yes, but Yeshua, there's something I must discuss with you."

He turned around and pulled her onto his lap. "What is it?"

"I've never told you where I am from."

"It does not matter where you are from, I do not care for your past," he tried to reassure her.

"I'm afraid other people do. I know about your relationship with Yahweh and that he asked you to look after me, but he never explained who I was, did he?"

"No, but why should that matter." He pushed her off his lap and stood up, trying to shrug off the matter. "Can't it wait for another time? I have things I need to be getting on with." Yeshua walked towards the door.

Katie sat in the now vacant chair and said, "I'm Legion's daughter."

Yeshua stopped silently in the middle of the doorway. A couple of seconds passed without either of them saying a word. Yeshua then walked out of the room without replying to Katie. He went outside, jumped onto his horse and rode away. Katie stayed in the loneliness of the study, where she hung her head and began to cry bitterly.

Damien landed at the Pillars of Jericho in a faraway land. The dark evening sky was overshadowed by thick grey clouds. The roar of thunder echoed from the shadows. Two massive emerald pillars were placed into the moist and muddy ground. Despite the lack of light, there was a mysterious green glow emitting from the stones. In between the pillars, a dark presence could be felt, but nothing could be seen. Beside the left pillar was a statue of Behemoth, a giant wingless and dragon-like monster. Above it, a plaque read 'He is the chief of the ways of God: he that made him can make his sword to approach unto him, King James.' On the right side, there stood another statue, Leviathan a scaly sea serpent with penetrating eyes and huge teeth. The plaque above this creature read 'He beholdeth all high things: he is a king over all the children of pride.'

"I thought you weren't allowed on the Earth surface?" Damien questioned as he approached a dark figure. To the naked eye, the figure appeared to be a featureless shadow, but to Damien, he could sense it was Legion. He stood in front of the pillars in a crater a mile wide created by an explosion. The surface of the hole was smooth with no sign of an impact, and the pillars were in the middle of the crater, like a doorway to another dimension.

Legion's mysterious shadow turned around to face Damien. "Nice to see you nephew and on the contrary, we're below the earth's crust. Did you not notice this huge crater I'm standing in? Besides your father has been living amongst these fools for a few years now, didn't you know, or hasn't he told you that neither. Once the pillars are ready, we must fill in the crater and hide it from mankind, this shall be our gateway to the underworld. I take it from your presence here, you have finally seen sense and decided to pledge your allegiance to me."

Damien narrowed his eyes at his uncle but nodded.

"Good, now kneel before me," he said, holding his open hand towards the level ground.

Damien knelt down and licked his lips. "I pledge my allegiance to you my Dark Lord. I shall allow you to rule me and show me the way forward into the new world, I shall defeat anyone who stands in our way." Damien looked up towards Legion.

"Stand," Legion ordered Damien to his feet and then placed his hands-on Damien's shoulders. "You must eliminate Yeshua. If he lives, then mankind will still have hope, and he will not allow them to embrace their inner evil. Be aware though Katie must be kept alive. Do not allow her to stay in the arms of good."

"But she has betrayed you!" Damien scorned.

"Not at all, she merely follows her heart, and I cannot fault her, perhaps she possesses whatever good I had in me. Be warned though you cannot kill Yeshua's soul it must be locked in the Valley of Damnation where he will not escape. Legend has it that the Elder Gods placed these pillars here as a way to enter the Underworld. The Underworld holds powers to control the dead and use any source of evil no matter how small. If I can control this, I can control every man's evil thought. But like every great legend, there is a downside." Legion smiley darkly and continued. "A lost manuscript was written that contains the power in which to control the Underworld, to find it will lend me all the evil souls. I have four followers who have devoted themselves to find the manuscript. Damien, once you have taken care of Yeshua, please return to me. Together we shall bring down your father."

As they shook hands in agreement of their deal, the white feathers on Damien's wings began to burn and disintegrate to the floor. He flapped his wings in furious concern as they turned into that of a demon. When the transformation was complete Legion grinned at his nephew and then turned towards the pillars. Damien sighed and in acceptance of the change to his body also sloped to the stones.

"Walk with me nephew, for today Damien, I shall have my war." Together they walked through the pillars, and their presence disappeared into a mysterious vapour between the stones. Upon their disappearance, the ground shook, and the edges of the crater collapsed, dirt and rocks buried the pillars.

Yeshua stood in the shadow of a towering tree on the top of a hilltop overlooking his farm. The clouds above him darkened with a thunderous roar and lightning lit up the sky. A bolt suddenly forked downwards and hit its target; the tree burst into flames. Yeshua knelt on the spot and prayed.

"Lord, may I have a moment of your time," Yeshua spoke with his eyes closed as the fire warmed his face.

A portion of the flames spiralled from a nearby branch, and a voice spoke from within the flickers. "Yeshua you have done wrong, Katie was not placed in your arms for your pleasure, you were supposed to protect her from the evil within her." "You should have told me who she was, and perhaps I would not have fallen for her."

"I understand, but she cannot interfere with mankind, and by marrying you, she has clouded your judgement," the voice replied.

"Please, I cannot let her go, she needs me." Yeshua's words were clouded with anguish. "I know who her father is, and that does not faze me, he shall not find her, I promise."

"Legion already knows," the flame intensified in a sudden burst.

A confused Yeshua asked. "How can that be? Who knows she is here?"

"Samael has spoken to Damien; he has betrayed his faith. Damien will do anything to break the bond between you and Katie. You must travel towards Jerusalem and meet with Gabriel; he will look after you."

"As ever I shall follow your word." Yeshua sat up and turned his back on the crumbling tree.

The flame eased slightly. "You must tell Gabriel to prepare for war." With those final words, the fire extinguished, leaving an echo, the promise of the fight yet to come with the sour smell of ash in the air. Yeshua quickly mounted his horse and galloped back to the farm.

Judas was there to meet him. "Inform the men we must leave immediately," Yeshua said breathlessly. "Can you stay behind for Miss Magdalene and wait for her? Tell her I must leave for a while. Judas, please may you take care of her and make sure she and the baby have a happy life."

"You're leaving forever?" Judas asked his voice cracking slightly.

"It's not safe here anymore, so I must flee, just promise me you will do as I say."

Judas gathered his strength and replied, "Yes, as always you have my word."

Katie came back to the farm to find it deserted. She walked slowly up to the house, and as she walked inside, she found Judas in the sitting room, he sat with his legs crossed reading from Yeshua's transcript. He noticed Katie enter the room. And put the papers on the side table and looked up at her.

"You've been gone a while?" He said, making his comment sound more a question.

"What's it to you where I've been," she snapped back.

"Please do sit down Miss Magdalene. I don't want to strain my neck do I... Katie?" he stared into her eyes.

"Why are you calling me that?" she hesitated.

"Don't feed me your lies! You have done this to all of us for too long, especially to Yeshua. He was here to help mankind, and you arrived and held him back. I know who your father is, I heard you tell Yeshua earlier. He is pure evil," Judas lectured her.

"That does not make me evil."

"I learned recently Legion is planning to overrule Yahweh and destroy us. In fact, isn't it a bit of a coincidence that you met Yeshua not before long this is about to happen?" Judas stood up and walked over to Katie. "Yeshua has decided he must leave here to complete his mission and does not want you by his side." Judas grinned at Katie. "Why would he want some whore that's lied to him from the very start? What did you think that baby was going to keep Yeshua by your side forever?" Judas mocked her.

"Yeshua loves me he would never leave me," she began to sob.

"Yahweh himself told Yeshua to leave because even he knows you will betray him. That baby growing inside you is evil, and it must not be born," Judas clicked his fingers. Two Roman guards marched into the room and grabbed Katie by the arms.

"By the Order of Rome, you have been sentenced to death by crucifixion," Judas stepped face to face with Katie with his horrid breath warming her face.

"No! You can't, why is this happening? I haven't done anything," Katie tried to struggle.

"Take her away," Judas ordered the guards.

As they dragged her away, she cried out in anger. "You cannot kill me. I am immortal!"

"Immortal! Ha... You asked Yahweh for solace on earth to escape your father, the only way to do that is by making you mortal. Pity, it's such a waste." Judas followed the guards outside, where they had dragged Katie towards a large wooden cross that lay in the dust.

"Place her on the cross and nail her to it."

They laid her down on the cross, and two other guards held her down. Her left hand was forced down, and a large iron nail was held over her wrist. A guard picked up a hammer, and with all his force he slammed the nail through her wrist, she let out a bone-chilling scream as blood trickled from her wrist mimicking the salty tears that sprang from her eyes. Her right hand was then held down, and they repeated the process. Katie continued to struggle, and a guard punched her across the face, causing her two front teeth to fly out and her mouth filled with blood. Katie managed to keep semi-consciousness but was dazed by the blow and blood loss. Her body slowly turned numb. They grabbed hold of her legs and crossed them at the ankles.

Similar to her wrists, the guards cruelly drove a rusty nail through her delicate flesh. Katie threw up blood and groaned. The pain was unbearable. Her vision blurred as she saw a shadow stand over her.

"Relax Katie, the pain will pass, you'll be reunited with your father soon enough." The voice belonged to Judas. He knelt at her ear and whispered, "Watch as your home burns and your blood flows." He let out a vicious laugh and stood up. "Lift her up and face her towards the house." He nodded to the guards as they ignited wooden sticks and threw them onto the roof.

It quickly began to burn, and the windows shattered as more touches were thrown into the house. The flames illuminated the darkening sky and embers floated past Katie. The guards had lifted the cross and settled it solidly into the ground so that it protruded heavenward with no support. Judas stood in front of her and pulled out a knife.

"Please let me die," she mumbled in pain.

"You'll be dead soon enough. First, I must remove that thing from your womb and making sure it burns in damnation."

He stepped up to her and thrust the knife into her stomach. He deepened the blade and carved into her gut. Her intestines fell to the ground, but her heart still beat as she gasped for air. A guard handed Judas a lit candle, he placed the hot wax inside her empty stomach; the slow-burning flame cooked her from the inside. The pain she felt was indescribable, her eyes became bloodshot, and tears were replaced by blood, she had no more strength to scream.

Judas turned his back and walked away from Katie while the guard lit a bale of hay beneath her feet. Before long, her skin caught fire and slowly blistered peeling from her bones. To Judas' horror, he could hear the screaming of a new-born baby but could not see a child anywhere. He furiously hunted for the origin of the cries, but it seemed to him that they came from all directions. The guards all suddenly fell to their knees and grasped their ears. Blood dripped from their eyes, their eardrums exploded, and they lost consciousness. Judas vomited on the ground and fled the farm with his horse in a daze. As he walked away from the inferno, he could not help thinking to himself where the crying came from, Katie's unborn baby, surely not? How could anything survive such violence?

Yeshua pulled up on his horse on the side of the roadway, which led to Jerusalem. His faithful disciples followed behind him. Yeshua climbed down from the saddle and drank from a bottle of water from a sack.

"Why have we stopped?" called out Peter, a rather short but stocky fellow.

"When we enter this city, you must be prepared for the worst. The Romans may not accept the words I speak. Some have seen it as treason towards Caesar. I have had a few altercations with several soldiers in the past, and they have been rather unfriendly. Peter, I want you to set camp here for the night, I shall enter Jerusalem on my own."

"Is that wise?" asked Andrew, clearly his showing concern at Yeshua's decision.

"Yes, do not worry, brother, I am meeting an old friend who shall look out for me, and when it is safe for you to follow, I shall send for you." He jumped back onto his horse and steadied the stallion. "Remember what I have taught you brothers, do not give in to your emotions, and you shall follow the way to God and defy the beast. If the worst should happen to me do not come for me, I shall be looked after by our heavenly Father, you must escape here and make hast for refuge in Kashmir and find a man called Swain he will take care of you." With those words, he galloped onwards to Jerusalem.

The disciples let their horses rest and unpacked their belongings as they set up camp as told. Darkness had fallen quickly over the surrounding skyline, their only light originated from the distant moon, the stars shining faintly and the feeble fire they had managed to build. Peter, Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James of Alphaeus, Thaddeus and Simon huddled around the flames and settled into their blankets to try to keep as warm as possible as the cold air gathered around them.

In the distance, Judas could see the fire fading around his brothers. He waited until they had all fallen asleep. As he crept toward the camp, he pulled a knife from his pocket. He sneaked around the sleeping figures and finally knelt beside Peter.

"Dear, dear Peter, what mistakes you have made." With one swift movement, he thrust the knife into Peter's neck. Peter's eyes opened, but he could not talk, blood swamped his mouth. "That's it my brother let the pain pass," Judas used his free hand to wrestle with Peter and keep him still. "My dear Peter, you know too much. Can you not see Yeshua will betray you all, none of you knew about Katie?"

Peter tried to lift his head and talk, but Judas placed his finger on Peter's lips.

"Shhh, you shall only make the pain worse," he plunged the knife deeper into his victim's neck. Upon Peter fading, he pulled the knife away, and blood poured from the open wound. Judas simply watched as Peter fell limp and no longer struggled.

Judas whispered in his ear and grabbed hold of his jaw. "Without you, they shall have no-one to follow, and mankind will be doomed when Yeshua is taken away." He pushed Peter's jaw away and slipped silently out of the camp approaching one of the disciples' horses. As Judas mounted the saddle, a winged beast stepped before him. He could not make out this creature, he could only see its silhouette.

"Has the deed been done?" the creature asked.

"I have done as I have been asked, you do not have to worry about Yeshua the plans have already been put into place," Judas replied as he narrowed, he eyes to make out his visitor.

"Good. Now be gone, I must leave the mark of Legion," the beast ordered Judas to leave. Judas followed orders and climbed onto the horse and spurred it towards Jerusalem.

Morning dawned at the camp and Philip was the first to rise. As he rubbed his eyes and stretched his sore muscles, he turned towards Peter's blankets; he was horrified by what he saw before him. Peter's head was set upon a spear overlooking Jerusalem with his eyeballs removed replaced by burning candles. Below, etched in the ground, the words 'Katie's Return,' and scratched into Peter's body, Philip read the following verse:

'And with the death of the first apostle, the dark lord shall rise from his dungeon of fire. An eternity of poverty, famine, plague and ultimately death with rain upon mankind. This shall be the beginning of the holy war and the end of existence. Brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, follow Legion into the unknown and together form a new world.'

At the police station, Grant finished reading the file and sat back in his chair. He was taken aback by what he had learned. How could this document have been kept hidden from the mainstream for so long? How did Dallas come into possession of it? Grant considered these questions for a moment and then decided to air on the side of caution. While the files appeared to be old, he could not be sure of their authenticity. Perhaps Dallas had written them to throw Grant off?

The officer who had handed Grant the files suddenly appeared at his desk again. "Sir, we got a call of a disturbance."

"And?" Grant rubbed his pale face and feigned interest.

"Sir someone has reported a strange. . . err a strange 'thing' falling from an apartment and suddenly disappearing," the officer blurted out.

"Dallas?" Grant shot out of his chair.

"Could be, no reports have been confirmed yet, the police have sent over a couple of units."

"Tell them no-one enters, get the tactical response team there as soon as possible, looks like we may have finally nailed that son of a bitch." Grant quickly put his coat on and ran out of the door.

"Did you get what you wanted out of those files?" the officer shouted at Grant.

"Sort of!" Grant called back as he hurried towards the lift.

# Chapter 7

The heavy rain battered Dallas' apartment windows. He had passed out on his sofa after leaving the bar earlier in the evening. He rolled over from side to side in a cold sweat, suffering from yet another bad dream. As his arm fell off the sofa, his fingers grazed the dirty carpet. A mouse sneaked out from under the couch and brushed past Dallas' hand. It found an old piece of stale bread and picked it up with its tiny teeth. Alert of any danger, it quickly ran through the obstacles of rubbish on the floor and escaped through a small hole in the skirting board.

There was a loud knock at the door, but Dallas was unresponsive. The knock repeated several times, and Dallas eventually rolled over and mumbled: "Go away." The person on the other side was unaware of Dallas' stupor and continued to knock and even kick at the door. The kicking grabbed Dallas' attention, and he opened his eyes and rubbed his face.

"Dallas, I'm not going to hang around waiting for you to answer the door," a female voice shouted from the hallway.

"Not tonight!" he snarled back.

There was a more aggressive knock. "You had better be joking, I have not come all this way for you to turn me down. I could have gone to other clients," she pressed her mouth up against the door and shouted through the keyhole.

Dallas managed to lift himself up from the sofa and stumbled over towards the door, kicking an empty bottle of beer across the floor as he went. He unlocked the door and slightly opened it with the chain still attached.

"Yes, can I help you?" Dallas asked sarcastically.

In front of him stood a young goddess, slim, with long legs, a flat stomach, a magnificent bosom, juicy red lips, the bluest eyes imaginable, and long curly peach blonde locks which rolled down her back, framing her perfect hourglass figure. She brushed up against the doorframe in her short, tight red dress. She reached through the gap in the door and caressed Dallas' bottom. "I'm sure can help you," she bit her lip and looked up at him through her long eyelashes.

Dallas closed his eyes and grumbled. "I can't, I'm not feeling up to it tonight."

She pressed her body against the door and pouted her lips. "I might not be getting any tonight, but you still got to pay, this body isn't free! Now let me in."

Dallas took the chain off the door and slowly opened it. He held his arm out to invite her in and then he walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. Dallas took the top off with his teeth and spat it into the sink. He leant against the counter and took a long swig.

"Excuse me," the woman frowned.

"Oh yeah, would you like a beer, Rebecca?" Dallas held the fridge door open and gestured to the contents.

"Yes, please," Rebecca replied.

Dallas threw her another bottle, which she just about caught it. "And how do you expect me to open this?"

"You have teeth," he smirked.

"Very funny," she was not impressed.

"Give it here," he walked over to her and snatched the bottle off her hands. He used his teeth again and removed the bottle top.

"Thank you," she smiled and gulped half the bottle.

"Thirsty?" Dallas was somewhat surprised at Rebecca's ability to gulp beer down.

"Thirsty work trying to grab your attention," she slouched onto the sofa.

Dallas reached into a cupboard above the sink and pulled out a pack of nachos. He threw them at Rebecca, and they landed in her lap. "You must be hungry, too," he laughed.

"If only all my clients were like you, then my job would be so much easier," she mocked Dallas and opened the bag.

Dallas joined her on the sofa and switched the television on. An adult channel with low rent call girls appeared on the screen. "Interesting choice of programming." Rebecca pushed off her shoes and made herself more comfortable, adjusting to sit cross-legged on the sofa.

"Remote has broken, so if you want to change the channel, then you need you will need to get up. Besides watching this shit, you might be able to pick up a new trick or two." He picked up a cigarette from the carton on the coffee table and lit it. "Want one," he offered the carton to her.

"A beer, nachos and a fag, you certainly know how to treat a girl," she took the cigarette from him and placed it between her lips. She leant forward so Dallas could light it. "Does this really turn you on?" she asked, pointing towards the television.

"Depends how much skin they show," he laughed.

"Seriously, look at her, bent over like that with her tits hanging out, when you know she's lying on some old mouldy mattress in a rotten warehouse, with a fat old guy knocking one out whilst he films her," she had a colourful language which unfortunately was never going to be as beautiful as her body.

"Coming from a girl who makes a living from taking it from fat old guys," Dallas harshly criticised her.

"Excuse me," she glared at him, "I'll have you know all of my clients are upstanding members of the community who pay very well, that is except for you," she flirted.

"For what I lack in payment I make up for company."

"You know I've been coming to you for a while now, and I don't actually know anything about you, hell we've shagged more times than most married couples," she rubbed her hand on his thigh.

"Well, what do you want to know?" he smiled.

"I don't know, tell me where you're from. Anything really, just enlighten me."

"I was born in a church in a small country village..." Dallas began.

"A church?" Rebecca interrupted.

"Yes, you know one of those places you have never walked inside," he joked.

"Smart arse," she playfully slapped Dallas on the arm.

"Well, you know my dad was a man of God, don't you, so there was every chance I could be born in one. I spent most of my childhood travelling with my father to churches all over the world."

"Sounds exciting," she said as she drained her bottle.

"Would you believe me if I told you that my father was told by God to save our world and that I had to continue his work if anything should happen to him?"

"Fuck off..." Rebecca laughed at the thought. "So, let me get this right you, a loser if you don't mind me saying, is here to save me? Oh yeah and the world? What from exactly?"

He stared at her, holding a straight face, "The Devil!"

She tried to laugh it off but was taken back by his reply and for a second believed him. "The Devil, who are you Jesus?" she giggled.

"Not quite, he isn't around now, but I'm all mankind has now so count yourself lucky I called you."

"Lucky? Really, I think you're the lucky one," she moved her hand up to his leg and stopped once she has reached his groin. "Still not in the mood?" she bit her lip again.

"Seriously, it has been a rough couple of days," Dallas replied, pushing away her advances.

"Just relax for a moment." Rebecca kissed him on the cheek and turned his face to hers. She pressed her lips on his and grabbed his thigh. She pulled away and seductively stared into his eyes with a lustful smile.

Dallas showed no emotion, he placed his hand on the back of her neck and returned her kiss. He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her neck. Dallas slightly unzipped her dress and pulled down one of the straps. He reached inside the dress and caressed her breast. Rebecca closed her eyes and let out a quiet moan. She smiled, enjoying the attention he was finally giving her. Unlike her other 'clients' Rebecca liked to relate with Dallas, he showed her passion only a lover could and for the few hours they were together each week he gave her the sort of affection she has been searching for since she had left home. He lay her down on the sofa, and he embraced her. His hand moved along her waist, and they locked lips. They rolled over onto the floor and knocked over the bottles that were scattered across the table.

"Shit," Dallas stopped.

Rebecca laughed and climbed to her feet. She held Dallas' hand and escorted him to his bedroom. Rebecca threw him onto the unmade bed in the pitch-black room. She ignored the smell of dirty washing on the floor and lay on top of him. They passionately kissed each other, and she sat up to remove her dress, she was naked underneath. He rolled her over and removed his shirt. He kissed each and every part of her body. Each touch alone gave her a feeling of passion, the only place she felt safe. Free from any harm in the arms of the only man she had ever loved, but she knew she could never truly have him. Dallas never showed any sort of emotion. When they were together, he showed her passion, but once they were finished, he turned back into a closed book and distanced himself from the world. She urged for one glance into his world, so she could grow close to him. Although what would Dallas want with a woman like Rebecca? A harlot, only good for one thing, how could he stay with a woman that had lain with so many men. Rebecca loosened Dallas' belt.

"Fuck me," she whispered into ear.

He pulled down his trousers and threw them against the wall with his feet. Naked, he took himself and forcefully thrust as she groaned with pleasure. With each thrust, the more intense the desire became. She dug her nails into his back and wrapped her legs around his waist. Dallas kept his eyes closed; her moans became louder. He felt a cold sweat run along his spine, an icy breeze passed through the room. Dallas heard whispering at each side of the bed, he could not make out what it spoke. Dallas opened his eyes to an unsightly vision. The floor around the bed emitted a dull red glow. He saw naked pale arms reach out to the sides of the bed; each arm stroked the bed covers. The fingers nails had been ripped from each finger, and the palms of each hand had been pierced by a nail. The hands smeared dark red blood across the bed sheets. Dallas looked up and saw a pair of eyes stare at him from the darkness. The bright white eyes did not move nor blink.

"Fuck me harder," Rebecca wrapped her legs tighter. Dallas felt uncomfortable with how tight she squeezed. He tried to break free from her grip, but no matter how hard he tried, his body would not respond to his thoughts. Dallas looked back at Rebecca, but her face had changed to the older image of Katie. Her eyes were closed, and her top teeth bit into her bottom lip, drawing blood. "Dallas, I want you to come inside me," Rebecca's voice was no more, horrifyingly it was that of a younger Katie.

Dallas shouted at himself to move, but his body continued to thrust. Katie opened her eyes; her eyes burned a fiery orange. Her nails pierced his skin, blood ran along his back. He found his righthand lift without him moving it. His hand wrapped around her neck and started to squeeze. She aggressively grabbed his butt cheeks and pushed him deeper inside her until she moaned louder than before. With her other hand, she grabbed Dallas by the hair and pressed his lips onto hers. She forcefully kissed him and bit his lip. He managed to pull his head away and felt his lip bleed, droplets of blood fell onto her face. She sadistically smiled back and tasted the blood. Dallas felt his hand grip tighter around her neck. Her smile faded from her face, and her skin became pale. She began to wriggle. For a moment, Dallas' vision blurred. He felt his body fill with ecstasy, and he came inside her.

There was silence for a moment and then, "Dallas...?" Rebecca whimpered. His vision returned, Rebecca was back in front of him, the watching eyes and arms had disappeared. With control over his hand, he quickly removed it from her neck. "What the fuck, Dallas?" Rebecca angry scored at him. She moved her legs from his waist and rubbed her neck.

"Sorry I don't know what came over me," Dallas apologised as he climbed off her and lay next to her. He felt his back, but there were no marks where her nails had been.

"I know you occasionally like it rough, but at least let me breathe," Rebecca joked. She moved up the bed and climbed underneath the bed sheets. She sat up against the headboard and lay the sheets across her waist, with her chest exposed.

Dallas sat on the side of the bed and rummaged in his trouser pocket; his hands were shaking slightly. "You want one," he pulled out two cigarettes.

"Thanks," Rebecca reached over and took one from him.

Dallas sat next to her and picked up the lighter from the side table. "So are you staying the night, or do you have any client to see," he lit both cigarettes.

"Oh, is that an invite?" she giggled and nudged Dallas.

"If that's what you want to call it," he shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, it depends if your planning on spending the rest of the night sleeping or fucking."

Dallas smirked as he blew smoke from his mouth. "The latter."

"Let me have a leak and finish this, and we'll continue," she kissed him smoke, hissing through her nostril. Rebecca climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom. "You could have cleaned up!" she shouted. There were damp towels piled on the dirty floor with underwear scattered here and there. A dirty shower curtain hung from half of the clips on the rail. Small clumps of damp were spread along with the tiles on the walls. Rebecca ripped a few sheets of toilet paper and wiped the dry urine from the toilet seat.

She continued to smoke while she sat on the toilet, and she flicked the ash into the sink next to her. "You need to do some washing," she commented and then waited for a response but heard nothing from Dallas. "I'll chat to myself then," she finished her smoke and dropped the butt between her legs into the toilet. She wiped herself and flushed the toilet. The mirror on the wall was cracked and made it difficult for Rebecca to check herself out. She washed her hands and returned to the bedroom. "Honestly, Dallas, you've really got t...." She stopped short when she found Dallas asleep in the bed, ". . . to be kidding me." She pushed roughly to try and wake him, but he lay still and unresponsive. Rebecca decided that she would still spend the night as it was not often, she got to sleep in the same bed as a man she cared for. She curled up to Dallas and lay his arm across her. For a moment, she was at peace in the arms of a lover, and before she knew it, she had drifted off into a deep sleep.

Dallas found himself in his living room in the dark. He looked around, expecting his eyes to adjust to the darkness but could not see his arms or legs. Dallas tried to call out but could not speak, it felt though he had left his body. He moved forward and into the bedroom. There he found himself at the foot of the bed watching himself and Rebecca sleep. He must have been dreaming, how could he possibly be looking down at this own body? The icy chill came over Dallas once more as a tall, dark, and gangly shadow emerged from the corner of the room. It crept along the wall and rolled along the floor, coming to a stop and hovering over Dallas' physical form in the bed. A long slender arm reached out with sharp fingers, its shadow crawled along with the sheets and rested on Dallas' shoulder. Looking down, Dallas' heart skipped a beat, and he felt his shoulder freeze. He suddenly woke in bed. He quickly opened his eyes and saw a motionless Rebecca stared back at him; her mouth was wide open. Her cheeks had been ripped and stitched together with a shoelace. Teeth had been pulled from her gums, and dry blood was stained around her chin. Katie's child-like face slowly rose from behind Rebecca, with a deathly smile, she whispered, "Dallas."

Dallas woke again, this time he sat up in a panic, his chest heaving, gasping for air as if he had been holding his breath for some time. "What the hell was that?" he murmured to himself.

"Are you okay?" Rebecca woke.

"Sorry I must have dozed off," Dallas rose to his feet and picked his trousers and pulled them on. "You want another beer?" he asked as he walked from the bedroom.

"Can do, you have any clothes I can wear, I don't fancy lounging around naked," she smirked.

"Take your pick, there should be some sweatpants and a top on the floor somewhere," he pointed as he left the bedroom.

"You need a cleaner," she said to herself. Rebecca rummaged through a pile of clothes that lay in a washing basket. She found what she thought were the cleanest items and put on a pair of grey jogging bottoms and a plain blue t-shirt.

Dallas opened the fridge and picked out two bottles of beer. He opened the first, and after the fizzle of the beer, he heard another sound from outside the apartment.

"Did you hear that, Dallas?" Rebecca entered the room, hearing the sound as Dallas had.

Dallas slammed the open bottle next to the sink and bubbles trickled down the glass. He ran straight to Rebecca and pulled her down to her knees.

"Do you mind?!" She tried to wrestle with him.

"Stay down and be quiet," Dallas ordered in a hushed tone.

Dallas knelt, and then he crawled across the floor to a cupboard under his sink and opened it. Behind the bottles of cleaning products was an old, damp and unassuming wooden box. He threw the bottles of bleach to one side and picked up the box. He placed it on the floor and opened the lid. Inside was a sawn-off shotgun and a hand full of bullets. Dallas grabbed the gun and loaded with two shots, then he hurried back over to Rebecca.

"Whatever happens to make sure you stay down and keep quiet," Dallas held his finger to his lips.

"What's going on, Dallas?" Rebecca worried. Her bag was within arm's reach. She pulled it towards her and fished out a pair of flat shoes to put on.

Dallas did not respond to her; he became distracted by the increasing noise. There was a loud screech from outside the window, and a shadow flew past the dim streetlights. One by one, each streetlight was extinguished with a faint 'popping' sound. Rebecca grabbed hold of Dallas' hand and squeezed tightly. The power in the apartment suddenly went out, and they were left in darkness with the only light coming from the sliver of moonlight that struggled to be seen through the rain clouds. The window opposite Dallas was shattered by a demon using its wings for cover. It rolled across the floor and stood before the pair. He was similar to the beast Dallas had met the other night, but a lot smaller in size.

Dallas looked up at the demon and breathed out. "Youssef, isn't it a pleasure."

"You know . . . it?" Rebecca trembled.

"Be quiet whore," Youssef snarled at her.

"You're a lovely creature, aren't you? Now, what can I do for you." Dallas replied and climbed to his feet, leaving Rebecca cowering on the floor.

Youssef shook the glass from his beak and smiled. "The pleasure is all yours, we've come to finish you off." He took a step forward, and Dallas unloaded a round into Youssef's chest. The impact of the bullets threw him against the wall, and he lay still for a moment, crumpled into a heap on the floor. Another demon flew through the broken window. This was Peter. He unlike Youssef he was too quick for Dallas and avoided the bullet fire. He launched himself at Dallas unveiling a rally of punches. Dallas shielded his face from the large claws, but he could not protect his abdomen from the fierce kicks. Dallas was winded and unable to fight back.

Rebecca could only watch paralysed in fear as Dallas submitted to the strength of Peter. Youssef roused himself and sat up with blood pouring from his gunshot wounds. He let out a laugh when he saw Dallas receiving his punishment. Rebecca gathered her courage, knowing she had to act fast. If Youssef got to his feet, he would soon finish Dallas off. Rebecca stayed hidden in the shadows as she crawled across the floor. She reached the kitchen and searched with her hand for a knife not wanting to take her eyes off the scene before her. Rather than finding a weapon, her hand found something else and a glass fell to its side and rolled off the sideboard. She held her breath as it fell to the floor. Fortunately, the glass bounced and ground to a standstill, with neither demon noticing the disturbance. She continued her search and finally felt the metal tip of a sharp blade, cutting her finger in the process. Rebecca pulled her hand away and sucked the seeping blood from her finger. With the blood cleared, she reached again to pick up the blade. She leaned out from behind the counter and planned her attack. Rebecca briefly rested on her knees and counted down from five. Once she reached zero, she lunged at Peter and plunged the knife deep into his back.

"Argh," Peter roared in pain. He stopped attacking Dallas and clawed at his back to try and remove the blade. With each stretch, he only moved the knife deeper into his back. Out of frustration, he flung his arm at Rebecca and caught her across the face. The force of his strike split her lip, and she fell to the ground. Dallas uncovered his face and saw that Peter was distracted. He sluggishly got to his feet, and rugby tackled Peter, managing to push him against the broken window and throwing him over the ledge. The knife had cut the muscles to one of Peter's wings and was unable to stop his fall. He crashed into a parked car on the street below. Its roof caved in, and the windows shattered from the demon's weight. The car's alarm sounded, and its hazard lights flashed. Other vehicles parked nearby were disturbed, and their alarms went off too. If the noise from the ensuing fight wasn't enough to wake the neighbourhood, this certainly was.

Dallas looked back at Youssef and saw that he had not yet got up. One last glance at Peter and Dallas saw that he had quickly fled the scene, leaving only shattered glass, flashing lights, and beeping in his wake. With one demon remaining Dallas picked up one of his katana swords, kept hidden underneath the couch. He frowned and with one swipe he speared Youssef through the shoulder to disable him. Dallas held himself in a dominant position over the demon.

"Why has Peter been resurrected to join you?" Dallas shouted. Youssef smirked back at Dallas not speaking, this infuriated him. He turned the sword into Youssef's wound and felt it scrape against bone.

"Enough!" Youssef called out; he could only take so much pain.

"Then tell me, why does Peter side with Legion?" Dallas asked once more.

Youssef coughed up blood. "Armageddon is upon you Dallas, Peter has seen the light, and he knows of the corruption in your world that your God has brought upon you all."

"Peter was a child of light, he could not be turned," Dallas said incredulously.

"You are all children of lies Dallas, there is no salvation. Your God walks upon you and does nothing as your godless politicians rape the lands of this world. Come on, join us, Dallas." Youssef moved slightly and then winced in pain as the shotgun bullets delved deeper into his body.

"Cut the bullshit and tell me why you are here and perhaps I will spare you your life," Dallas picked up the shotgun with his other hand.

"We know you have the whereabouts of the manuscript Dallas. Hand it over, and we will grant you free passage to your salvation."

"I do not have possession," Dallas armed his weapon.

"Poor Dallas, your eyes have been shadowed for too long, open them and see who stands before you, perhaps you will realise your father has taken you down a path beset on betrayal."

"Shoot him!" Rebecca cried as she wiped the blood from her mouth.

"Go on Dallas, do as your whore commands," Youssef tempted him with a sly smile.

"My father set me on a path of discovery and enlightenment. It gladdens me that Legion fears me and will do anything to stop me. Your prophecies have no meaning, I fashion the course of my life, not you, not my God and not my father. When I take your dark lord's life, I will bask in the glory of his death."

"Is that so?" Youssef's composure changed. He inhaled and suddenly attempted to lunge at Dallas. Dallas pre-empted the attack and forced the gun into Youssef's mouth, quickly he pulled the trigger and Youssef's brains exploded across the apartment. His body slouched, held up only by the sword. Dallas pulled out the weapon, and the headless body slumped across the blood-soaked carpet.

Outside an unmarked black police car swerved through the late-night traffic with a small red and blue siren flashing on the dashboard. Grant was sitting in the driver's seat with a coffee in one hand and his other resting on the steering wheel. "Move out of the way you idiot!" he slammed on the horn and shouted at those who ignored the siren. He came to a junction where the traffic lights were stuck on red. Grant did not hesitate as he put his foot down and raced through. A large truck was passing the junction when the driver saw Grant speeding towards him. He hit the brakes and the wheels locked, the driver lost control of the vehicle, and it crashed into a car on the other side of the road. Grant calmly hit his brakes and slid the police car around the truck and continued to his destination without checking if the other drivers were okay.

Grant pulled up outside Dallas' apartment block and found that several officers who called the situation in and the tactical response team Grant had called for were already at the scene. A squad of six men dressed head to toe in black with body armour and their faces covered were sat in the back of a plain white van. Each one of them was loading their semi-automatic weapons.

"Good evening gentlemen," Grant said as he approached the squad.

"Evening, sir," the nearest man replied. "Do you have an idea how you want us to tackle this one?"

"I need one team to enter through the rear and one team through the front. Do not shoot to kill, you may shoot Dallas but only disable him. I need this one alive!" Grant ordered.

"Are you sure that's wise? You remember what happened last time we entered his other property," another man interrupted.

Grant had tried to raid an apartment belonging to Dallas about three years ago. His team had entered the apartment and were welcomed by a wall of fire. Unfortunately, two of the officers were not able to escape, and when their bodies were recovered, it was found that their hearts had been ripped from their chests. Since then most officers had been very wary about working with Grant. He usually valued the result over the condition of his men, and he made it clear that he was determined to catch Dallas - permanently.

"If you do your job this time then perhaps you will all come out of this alive," Grant coldly replied.

"You heard him, Alpha head around the back and enter up the staircase. Bravo, we'll take the elevator. Now let's move out!" The sergeant in charge of a squad ordered his men. At this point, they were unaware the power was out in the apartment block.

Back inside, Rebecca sat in the corner, stunned at what she has just seen. She was as pale as a ghost, so Dallas walked over to her and put his coat around her shoulders. He held her for a brief moment, to try and calm her down.

"Come on, we have to leave the police will be here any minute now, it's not safe." Dallas tried to lift her to her feet. At first, she refused to move and remained still, sobbing uncontrollably. "Rebecca if you don't move now, more of those things will arrive, much bigger than those two!" Dallas' threat grabbed her attention, and she climbed gingerly to her feet. Dallas pulled his sword from Youssef's corpse and then headed towards the door. He reached out towards Rebecca and then held her close to guide her through the door and out to the hallway. With the power to the building cut, the corridors had descended into an eerie darkness. Dallas kept them both against the wall, and they slowly crept towards the staircase. With each step, the floorboards creaked. He carefully pushed open the door to the stairs to try and not make a sound, unsure of who would be listening. Dallas led Rebecca upwards.

Rebecca was confused. "Why are we going up, how can we escape?" she asked quietly, barely moving her lips.

Dallas turned to her. "You must trust me now, do as I say, and everything will work out." They slowly ascended the staircase. Beneath them, they heard the door at the bottom slam against the wall, Dallas peered his head over the handrail and saw the flashlights from the police as they entered. Dallas looked at Rebecca and held his finger to his lips.

Meanwhile, down below them outside the apartment block, Grant stood firm waiting for a result. He was approached by a rather short officer. "Sir, what actually happened last time you raided one of this guy's apartments? Surely it wasn't as bad as people say," the officer asked trying to sound casual.

"You have no idea son, some of the things those men saw that night has haunted them ever since. Why do you think most of them never returned to the job afterwards? That sure was no standard room they entered. This guy did something in there, and I won't rest until I have him in my palm squealing for mercy. Those brave men deserve retribution." Grant stared intently at Dallas' window and murmured. "Come on, you, bastard!"

"Do they know what they're letting themselves in for boss? I mean if it was as bad as you say, aren't they in for the same danger, my cousin's up there, and he should know if his life is in danger."

Grant became pissed off by the officer's insistent questions. "Danger?! He signed up to this, his life is always in danger, it's his bloody job!" Grant spoke to his radio. "Alpha come in, have you reached the apartment yet?" He waited for a response but could only receive static. "Shit."

Grant dropped the radio to the pavement and ran towards the apartment building. He launched himself through the front doors and ran up towards the elevator, forgetting that the power was switched off. When he realised that the buttons weren't lit up, he looked around for another way up but was blinded by the darkness inside. Billowing mist gathered on the floor, and a pail dust cloud filled the air with the acrid smell of brimstone.

Upstairs the elevator doors suddenly opened, and Bravo team cautiously peered out into Dallas' apartment. Despite the power being cut in the block, the team were somehow able to use the elevator. They, too, were surrounded by the mysterious mist that now surrounded Grant downstairs. One of the officers held out his hand in front of him, and when he pulled it back, he saw that it was covered with dust particles. He held the particles to his face. "Hey, can any of you smell that?" he asked.

"Brimstone," another replied.

"Yeah, it's really potent..."

"Quiet," the officer in charge interrupted and pulled out his radio. "Sir, we've reached the suspect's apartment, do you read over?" He received no answer. "Everyone switch to night vision." He then used his hands to signal the men to surround the door. They all took their weapons off the safety and prepared to enter the premises. The leader picked a flash-bang grenade from his waist belt and pulled the pin. Another kicked the door in, and it flew a few feet across the room. The grenade rolled along the ground and came to a rest in the middle of the kitchen floor. Within a couple of seconds, it went off, and the room was filled with a blinding light.

The light dispersed, and the leader entered the room. A strong gust of wind swept through from the broken windows as he walked steadily through the room and held his hand in the air in a fist to order the others to remain still outside the apartment. As he crunched through the glass and debris on the floor, the leader noticed the body of Youssef. He pointed his flashlight at the body but could not make out what it was exactly. "What the hell?" he mumbled to himself.

Another gust of wind brushed past him and his night vision goggles flickered, dimmed, and then switched off. As he removed them, he saw a shadowy figure in the middle of the apartment. "Stay where you are!" he shouted at the shadow. He tried to ignite the figure with his flashlight, but the light evaporated as it contacted the shadow. It began to chuckle. The officer trembled with confusion and terror. Why was this thing laughing at is plight? His hand was shaking as he shouted out again. "Put your hands in the air!"

The figure's laughter became louder as it bent backwards before leaning forward to spread out two enormous wings. The figure was the fierce Samael, and he dwarfed Youssef's nearby corpse. He had heard of Dallas' location from Damien. The officer panicked and unloaded a whole round into Samael's chest. Samael took a step backwards and grunted as the bullets entered his chest. Once the firing stopped, Samael took a moment and casually wiped the blood away from his chest. He smiled with venom as the bullet fragments seeped from out his body, dropped to the floor with a dull thud, the wounds quickly healing in their wake. The door to the apartment slammed shut on its own and locked. The officers in the hallway reacted immediately, all taking it in turns to try and kick the door down. Their efforts were in vain as the door would not break.

"You, pathetic skin-crawler, your weapons cannot harm me!" Samael walked over to the leader and bent the barrel of the gun. "Shit yourself yet?" He mocked him. Samael knocked the gun out of the leader's hands as urine leaked from his trousers. "Scared?" Samael laughed and grabbed hold of him by the throat. He lifted him in the air, the officer tried to mumble for help but struggled to breathe. He tried to kick Samael but quickly became fatigued. Samael clenched his fist and punched through the officer's gut. The officer coughed up blood as part of his stomach contents emptied onto the floor. Samael removed his hand and licked some of the blood. A body now hung lifeless in his grasp. Samael threw him out the window, and the leader's body crumbled as it crashed into a van outside. With Samael alone in the room, he took a deep breath and exhaled. He filled the room with toxic gas. The gas crept across the room, and once it contacted the wall, it ignited. The gas gave birth to flames spread throughout the apartment.

Outside the other officers felt the warmth and saw the smoke coming out from under the door. "Step back!" one shouted. Once out of the way the door became engulfed in flames and quickly crumbled to ash.

"Holy shit, what the fuck is that?" another shouted gesturing towards a shadow appearing from the smoke. The officers all held their guns up and targeted Samael. He stood in the middle of the doorway surround by flames with his hand held in the air as if he were embracing them.

"My children lower your weapons," Samael brought his hands down. The officers voluntarily lowered their weapons in unison. "I shall become your maker, for you have served your last purpose, do not fear the wrath of Legion, and you shall be rewarded for eternity, embrace him."

The two officers at the front looked at each other confused, while the one behind them knelt before Samael. "I give my soul to you, Legion."

"What are you doing, Hernandez?" one of them yelled.

"Very well," Samael said. He pulled a long-polished steel heavy sword from his back, the handle carved was made from bronze with an emerald embedded at the top. "You two prepare to die for you are objects on my path." Samael held the sword with both hands and slowly raised it into the air. With one swoop he sliced both officers through the neck, decapitating them cleanly. "Stand my child you need not kneel for you have become one of the dammed," he approached Hernandez.

Hernandez stood with a confused and fearful look on his face.

"What, you thought you were going to be saved? Your soul is tainted, you have given your soul to Legion, and for that, you will burn in Hell. Your Soul shall join my army." Samael dropped his sword and placed his hands around Hernandez's head. He put his thumbs over his eyes and began to squeeze. Hernandez screamed in agony as he felt his eyeballs pop, thumbs piercing the back of his eye sockets and Samael removed his hands. Hernandez dropped to the floor, crying in pain. Samael picked up his sword once more and placed the tip against Hernandez's throat. "Amen," Samael pressed down on the sword, and it sliced through his neck. Hernandez drowned in his own blood. The fire had begun to burn in the hallway. Samael left the bodies behind him and entered the stairway.

The other team of officers were almost to the floor, but at this point, the stairway had filled with thick smoke. Samael slammed open the door and saw the officers below him.

"It's one of them," the lead officer shouted, "open fire!" They all lifted their guns and set off a hail of bullets. Samael was besieged with gunfire from all angles, and he sought cover under his wings. With Samael out of sight, the officers ceased fire. For a moment there silent only disturbed by the crackle of the nearby flames. A heartbeat later, all the officers were taken by surprise as Samael stood to his feet. Then they felt as the bullets rained down on them. Most remained unscathed with only one officer receiving an impact to his leg.

Samael was taken back for a second before he unleashed a ball of fire from his snarling mouth. The flame engulfed the officers who screamed in agony. One of them fell over the bannister to his death. Samael roared in a fury, "Dallas!"

Grant heard the roar as he was about to enter the stairwell. Just as he opened the door, one of his men who were on fire hit the ground. Grant ran over but unable to do anything except watch his comrades broken body burn. He looked up and could see the others on fire too. He ran to the staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

Further up the stairs, Dallas and Rebecca had reached the roof. "Rebecca, you must hurry down the fire escape, I will meet you at your apartment," Dallas held her by her shoulders.

"Please don't leave me, Dallas, I need you," she pleaded with him.

"You will see me in no time. No one knows you were with me, if you escape now you can get as far away from here as possible before anyone realises and worse comes to worst, just tell the cops I held you against your will. Terrible things are going to unfold, and the last thing we need is for you to be in any more danger."

"Please, Dallas, I cannot do this alone," Rebecca begged one last time.

Dallas took a moment to scan his surroundings, if he were to climb down the fire escape, he would surely be captured. Another building was nearby, and although it was only slightly shorter, the gap wasn't big, and Dallas was pretty sure he could jump it. "We could jump?" he suggested to Rebecca.

"To where?" she tearfully asked.

"The block behind us, it's not far we could easily make it with a long enough run-up."

"And what if we fall?"

"Well, then our journey ends," Dallas grinned attempting to make light of the situation.

Grant reached his men, but it was too late. They all lay dead beside each other. Parts of their skulls had burnt as their skin melted under the intense heat. Grant was unsettled to see the gaping eyes of his men staring up at him as if pleading for his from the flames that had already killed them. Grant ran past the unfortunate officers and opened the door leading to the hallway, but he found that he could not see anything. The corridor was filled with smoke from the fire in Dallas' apartment. He placed his shirt over his mouth in an attempt to help him breathe, but the fabric was not thick enough to escape the smoke. He had no choice but to turn back towards the bodies. Again, in the staircase, Grant exhaled deeply to remove the toxic smoke from his lungs. He glanced above and saw Samael climbing up the stairs. "I got you," he quietly mumbled to himself.

Samael blasted through the door onto the roof. He saw Dallas standing with Rebecca. "At last Dallas, I have the pleasure of meeting you," he snarled.

Rebecca firmly held Dallas' hand. "Stay behind me," Dallas sheltered her.

"You and your father have built up quite a reputation. I'm going to take great pleasure in destroying it. You think finding Katie is going to save mankind? Ha! How mistaken you are, she is no better than me, in fact, she is worse. She is pure evil and will destroy you. You may have saved her soul once, but it has now gone forever."

"How do you know she is lost?" Dallas asked.

"As we speak, she has embodied herself into an unfortunate young woman. When she wakes, she shall unlock the mind and find the manuscript. Then, my friend, he shall rise from his fiery pit and raise his sword upon this land." Samael walked closer to Dallas.

"Who is he talking about?" Rebecca whispered.

"He's talking about Legion," Dallas replied.

"Legion?"

"Legion? My dear has this world has taught you nothing has it." Samael said. "Legion is the true leader of this shameful universe, the man you call Satan will have his vengeance and Yahweh will fall from his throne and burn in the perpetual fire." He edged closer to the couple.

"Not if I have anything to do about it." Dallas said to Rebecca in a hushed voice, "Hand me the cross from around your neck."

Rebecca took her cross and gave it to Dallas. From his back pocket, he pulled out his gun and placed the cross around the weapon and prayed. "My Lord, give me the power to sanctify this weapon to destroy the forces of evil." As he prayed, the gun vibrated and emitted a faint blue glow. Dallas held up the gun toward Samael.

"What you think that weapon will hurt me? Dallas, it is a creation of sin, its essence was made from evil and cannot hurt me, you fool." Samael laughed as he pulled his sword from behind his back.

Dallas fired and caught Samael in the right arm. Samael was taken by surprise as the bullet pierced his skin and caused him to bleed. Samael stumbled. He had not felt such pain before. "You were saying," Dallas smiled. He fired several more rounds at Samael.

Samael tried to dodge the shower of bullets but was caught off guard. He fell to the ground after being injured by several of the missiles. After Dallas had emptied his clip, Samael was momentarily disabled, kneeling on the floor in pain. Dallas calmly stepped back towards Rebecca, but Samael was not down for long. He let out a hellish laugh and climbed back to his feet with his wounds seeping blood. Samael picked up his sword and pointed toward Dallas. When Dallas realised, he had not hurt Samael quote enough, he reached for his own sword that lay on the floor and walked towards his foe.

"I admire your courage, but I pity your bravery." Samael held out his free hand to offer a fight to Dallas.

Dallas took a lunge towards him. In turn, Samael defended the attack and pushed Dallas back as it was his turn to swing his sword. They both become entwined in a sword fight, taking vicious swings at one another, but each able to counter the other. Rebecca watched on as the battle unfolded her hand clasped to her mouth in fear.

Meanwhile, Grant climbed closer to the roof. He reached the door and listened carefully to the clash of steel on steel. He looked down at his gun and checked it to make sure he had enough ammo. The smoke from the fire had followed him and made it almost impossible to breathe. He considered his next move for a moment, then he backed up a few steps. With a short run-up towards the door and a hard shove from his shoulder, Grant burst out onto the rooftop. With only Dallas in his sight, he held his gun in the air. "Dallas put your hands where I can see them!" Grant shouted, totally unprepared for the sight that had unravelled before him. Dallas paused for a second as Samael came into view behind Grant. He took a blow to the stomach as Samael caught him unawares. Grant fell to the ground in pain.

"I thought I killed all of you pathetic humans," Samael smirked.

Grant cowered and held his stomach with his hand. In his other hand, he still had his gun, so he aimed at Samael and fired. Every bullet entered Samael's chest. Although they caused no pain to Samael, Dallas saw this as an opportunity to strike. Dallas raised his sword and with one clean swoop his sliced Samael across the back. The blade cut into his scaly skin and caused him to jerk in agony. Unsure of his victory, Samael decided it was time for him to leave. He kicked out at Dallas and spread out his wings. "We shall meet again," he sneered as he launched into the night sky and disappeared quickly from view.

Dallas ran over to Rebecca. "Do exactly as I say, pretend you don't know me. Tell them you were visiting one of your regulars, but I grabbed you in the elevator and took you against your will."

"But..." Rebecca tried to interrupt.

"Do what I say and go with my actions, and they will release you, I'll meet you at your apartment later." Dallas grabbed Rebecca by the throat and shouted to Grant. "If you come any closer, I'll blow this bitch's head off."

Grant by this time had reloaded his weapon and strolled toward Dallas. "Hey, come on lad there's no need for this, just give yourself up and tell me what's been happening I can help, offer you protection, you'll be safe with me."

"What you mean like you did for your men? I think I'll take my chances on my own thanks," Dallas walked closer to the edge of the building.

"Dallas, I want to help you, please I need to know what's been happening. I've seen things only you can explain, please, I need you too. Don't do anything rash Dallas, we won't hurt you."

"Lower your gun then," Dallas said.

"Release the girl, and I will drop my gun," Grant replied.

"Thought as much. Grant, you can promise my safety all day long, and I will still reject your offer, only I can protect myself. You are in far too deep, listen to me when I say that you need to stop your investigation; otherwise, you shall regret it. Your life is in danger not from me but from others," Dallas tried to persuade Grant.

"You mean from that beast that just flew away?" Grant asked.

"No, he is of no threat to you; he does not care for your well-being. There are groups, organisations trying to find me, find out what I know. They seek one goal as do I. They would use you to get to me. Stop your investigation, burn all you know, and I can promise your safety. I do not want you to die."

"I do not take kindly to minor threats, now release the fucking girl and give yourself up!" Grant became increasingly angry.

Dallas pushed Rebecca into Grant and climbed onto the edge of the building before he jumped, he turned to Rebecca and winked at her. She smiled as he turned and leapt towards the building opposite. He misjudged his jump and crashed through an apartment window, falling into an old couple's bedroom. The pair rose with fright on their faces shocked by Dallas' sudden entrance. He got up and shook the glass from himself. He apologised to them and made a quick exit into the hallway and headed towards the fire escape.

Grant ran over to the edge. "Bastard," he mumbled. He turned to Rebecca, "You, what did he want with you?"

"Me?" she pointed to herself, "I don't know he grabbed me when I was in the elevator pointing a gun at me," she pretended to cry.

"Do you live here?" he asked her.

"No, I was visiting one of my regulars until that prick grabbed hold of me. What was that thing that just flew away?" She tried to district Grant from his questions.

"Nothing for you to worry about, go on get yourself out of here, but don't tell anyone you were here, not even your 'regular' otherwise I'll find you and make sure you don't talk to anyone else ever again."

Rebecca ran to the exit and headed down the stairs to exit the building covering her mouth from the smoke to join the rest of the escaping residents. Grant tried to talk on his radio, but it was dead. He threw his gun on the ground and cursed.

# Chapter 8

In the City's main hospital on the top floor, there was a secure ward hidden away from the rest of the hospital staff, on standby for any 'out of the ordinary patients' who were to be treated at the chief doctor's discretion. In contrast to the majority of the populated wards with their dirty floors and minimal staff, this unusual ward was quite the opposite. In the pristine condition, it was always maned to ensure it was ready for any situation. There was only one patient in the secure unit. Two security guards were seated either of the doorways that led to the ward from the elevator. Each visitor entered through a metal detector before being searched. The lights along the hallway were dim and only allowed just enough light to reach the only occupied room. The room which was located at the end of the corridor could only be entered with the use of a key card that only one doctor and one nurse had access.

A young doctor, regarded as the best burn specialist in the country, approached the room accompanied by two upset parents. Katherine's body lay in the hospital bed a ventilator helped her breath, and her skin was wrapped head-to-toe in bandages. Her mother placed her hand on the glass panel outside the room and cried into her handkerchief.

"I'm afraid Katherine has suffered first-degree burns all over her body, of which I have seen no one survive before. She is lucky to still be alive, but because of the severity of the burns she has suffered, we have taken her for an MRI scan," the doctor explained.

"Why would she need a scan for the burns?" Katherine's father interrupted.

"She has been unresponsive since she arrived, so we believe she may have suffered some brain damage, but until we get the results, we cannot be sure. I know I said she is lucky to be alive, but you have to prepare yourselves for the worst."

"Prepare for the worst?" her mother sobbed.

"A patient in Katherine's condition should not be alive. She has suffered catastrophic burns. If it were not for the machines keeping her alive, she would not be here. You can wait for the scan, but I would say it is in Katherine's best interests if you think about the possibility of turning her life support off."

"You said it yourself, though, let's wait for the scan." Katherine's father replied.

"That's fine sir, I am simply trying to prepare you for every outcome. Would you like to see her?" the doctor asked.

"Yes please," Katherine's mother blew her nose and took a deep breath.

The doctor took Katherine's parents into the room. Next to Katherine was a vase filled with blooming roses. The curtains were half drawn across the windows to allow a little sunlight into the room. A nurse stood in the corner changing the IV drip attached to a cannula in Katherine bandaged arm.

"Nurse would you mind giving the parents a moment please," the doctor requested. She nodded politely and left the room. The doctor began to perform a quick check on Katherine. He pulled a small flashlight from his doctor and carefully lifted the bandage from over her eyes. Her eyelid had burnt entirely away in the intense heat of the fire. The doctor shone the light, and her pupil reacted, the eye moved and stared at him intently. The doctor felt a shiver, the movement had unsettled him. He suddenly, and very strangely, became aware of intimidated anger from Katherine's stare. His hand shook, and his forehead felt moisten with sweat. He switched the light off and pulled the bandages back in place.

"Is everything ok?" her father asked.

"Yes," the doctor replied, licking his lips, "I needed to check for any changes in her condition, but there is still no response." He nodded to the parents and hurried out of the room. As he closed the door behind him, he reached inside his shirt and rubbed the cross that hung around his neck.

"Has there been any change in the last few hours?" he asked the nurse who stood nearby.

"Her heart rate increased, and I saw her fingers twitch, so I increased the amount of morphine. Sir, how long are you going to allow them to keep her alive? She is becoming more responsive by the hour, and her skin is healing," the nurse anxiously replied.

"Once the parents have finished with their visit. I want you to close the curtains and lower her oxygen. Perhaps if we restrict the amount of oxygen to her brain, we can cause her body to go into shock."

The lights in the hallway flickered for a moment, and there was a brief but unusual gust of wind. Both the nurse and the doctor stood rooted to the spot. Where had the wind come from? All the windows and doors were shut. There was silence before the faint sound of a little girl giggling.

"Did you hear that?" the nurse asked, looking intently up and down the corridor as she took a step closer to the doctor.

"Here what? The gust of wind?" he replied.

"No, it sounded like someone else was here, a little girl."

"That cannot be, this is a restricted floor, only we can access it," he looked down at his watch. "Right that gives them enough time," he turned his back on the nurse and walked back into the room. "We will need to leave Katherine be for now."

"But we have only just got here," her mother scorned frowning at the doctor from a chair next to Katherine's bedside.

"I know, but due to safety concerns with Katherine's fragile state we need to make sure she is kept in the most quarantined state possible; I should not have even let you both in I only did so out of courtesy."

"Come on, love, let's leave her be for now," her father replied as he helped his distraught wife to her feet. The doctor led the parents out of the room and nodded to the nurse. She entered the room, and the doctor quietly shut the door behind them. He walked the parents down the corridor to the elevator, assuring them that Katherine was in the best possible care.

Inside Katherine's room, the nurse pulled the curtains across the window and the pane of glass that looked out into the corridor. She walked to Katherine's bedside and felt the hairs on the back of her neck begin to prickle. The nurse paused an arm's length from her patient. A gust of wind whipped around the room, and the lights dimmed. The nurse went across the room and fiddled with the switch on the wall to increase the lights. The room remained shadowed in the dark, shaking her head in confusion she turned back to Katherine, determined to complete the task she had been set. She turned the knob, which controlled the flow of oxygen, located behind the head of the bed. Katherine's oxygen levels dipped immediately. After a moment, the heart monitor began to slow down just as the nurse had anticipated it would. She sat down on the chair next to the bed and pulled a nail file from her pocket. A few minutes later, the heart monitor barely registered a beat, although there were still mild signs of life. The nurse continued to file her nails and didn't look up until the light in the room flickered again, and an aggressive gust of wind swept under her feet. The brightness of the bulbs suddenly increased until she was unable to see. She threw the nail file to the floor and climbed to her feet, blinded by the light. She was heading back across to the light switch when all the bulbs in the room exploded, sending small shards flying in all directions.

The nurse ran to the door, but the lock turned by itself as she approached. She was locked inside the room. She banged her fist against the door and screamed for help. The curtains that were drawn against the pane of glass slowly began to open, revealing the corridor outside. The nurse stopped banging on the door and turned to stand before the pane of glass, her breath clouded the surface as she looked out into the corridor. It was drenched in darkness, and nothing was visible, so the nurse pressed her face to the glass to see someone, anyone who may open the door from the outside. A light at the far end of the corridor flickered to life. Underneath the light, a little girl stood clutching her teddy bear. She looked up and gave the nurse a deathly stare. Katie began to saunter down the hallway towards Katherine's. As she moved the paint on the walls cracked and peeled off, falling to the ground in clouds of dust. The floor tiles fractured with each step she took, and dirty water rose from the cracks left behind. The fallen paint revealed a metal fence where people were crammed in close together, groaning in pain as their bodies crushed each other. Their faces pressed against the railings and had the flesh sliced open, revealing the muscle and bone beneath.

The nurse stepped back from the glass in terror. She placed her hand on the bed behind her, but the metal frame was scorching hot to touch. The liquid in the IV drip started to boil in its plastic bag as the temperature in the room became unbearable. The bloodied hand of Katie suddenly banged pressed against the glass. It moved across the surface and smeared a red stain across the glass. The nurse cried out in terror as the door unlocked and slowly creaked open. The nurse swallowed her courage and knew she must get out of the room and get to the elevator, her only means of escaping the floor. Just as she was about to make a move towards the open doorway, she felt a burning grasp around her wrist. The once still body of Katherine was holding firmly to her. The nurse turned around in horror wincing as the heat from Katherine's hand burnt her delicate skin. The heart monitor blared, the beeps growing quicker and closer together.

As quiet as a shadow, Katie suddenly stepped into the room. She held a knife in one hand and the teddy bear in the other. Placed the bear gently onto the floor, she approached the nurse. "Why do people like you try and intervene in the inevitable," she licked the knife, and the blade cut her upper lip.

"I'm sorry, please let me go!" the nurse cried.

"Do not apologise, you are only sorry that you got caught. I will, however, take pity on your soul and allow you a quick death. After all, Katherine's body needs to recover quickly, and your energy should be just what she needs."

"Help!" the nurse screamed, struggling against the firm grip that Katherine still had.

"Your screams are unheard. Your doctor has left you in this eternal darkness."

"Please have mercy," the nurse sobbed and held her hand out.

Katie held her head to her side and pouted, then she lifted the knife and sliced the blade across the nurse's palm. She moved her hand away and held it under her armpit to try and stop the flow, but blood soaked her clothes. Silent tears fell down her cheeks as a puddle of urine collected at her feet. She had wet herself in fear of the scene before her.

"Oh my," Katie giggled, looking down at the floor. She smiled widely at the nurse as she forced the blade into her gut. The nurse, still unable to release herself from Katherine's grip, fell to her knees as blood gurgled from her mouth. "May Legion have mercy on your soul," Katie continued to smile and sliced open the nurse's neck. "Now, burn."

The blood that now surrounded the nurse ignited and quickly engulfed her in fury of flames. She screamed as her skin scorched and her fluids boiled. Soon she lost consciousness from the pain and her body crumpled into a pile of ash as the flames extinguished.

An hour later, the doctor returned to the ward to the corridor that was untouched by Katie's horrifying visit. He noticed nothing out of the ordinary as he headed towards Katherine's room. He had hoped at this point, the nurse had completed her duties, and their patient's time was up. The curtains were still drawn across the glass pane as he entered the room. To his disappointment, the nurse was nowhere to be seen, and Katherine appeared unchanged. "Bloody nurses," he murmured under his breath. The doctor walked to the machines next to the bed and intended to switch them off but was startled. He looked down at Katherine and noticed a change in her appearance. He pulled back the bandage on her arm, and the skin was healthy with no sign of any burns. Frowning in confusion, he removed more of the dressings and panic begin to flood through his body at what he saw. Her whole body had miraculously recovered. He pulled the cross from underneath his shirt and held it between his finger. "How can this be?" he questioned himself.

Katherine's hand twitched. Her head moved, and she coughed. Her eyes slowly turned towards the doctor. She tried to speak, but she was still attached to the ventilator. The doctor did not hesitate, he switched the machines off from the sockets on the wall. Katherine understood what he had done, and she moved her hand, trying to grab the doctor.

The door to the room slammed shut behind him, and he turned on the spot. Before him stood a little girl. "Turn them back on," she screeched at him.

"How...what...why, are you here?" The doctor was terrified.

"I am her, the unholy ghost. The very being you are trying to destroy by switching those machines off," Katie approached him.

"But... but you're so little," he stuttered.

"Little?" she laughed "Switch the machines back on," her tone became deeper.

The doctor held out his cross and shook his head. "I cannot do that; you are not welcome in our world."

"That is where you are wrong, this is my world." His eyes widened as her face became paler, the veins beneath the surface became visible, pulsating slowly. The doctor clutched at his chest as it tightened, his breath was short, and a sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He collapsed to his knees, not taking his eyes off Katie or removing his grasp on his cross. Katie knelt until she was nose to nose with him. e"Goodbye, doctor," she smiled sweetly. Blood seeped from the doctor's eyes and nose. He felt his skin stiffen as it started to dry up. Chunks of hair fell from his head, and his face became more sunken by the second. His body became weaker and weaker, and he fell to the floor, his knees no longer able to hold him. He reached out to Katie as she watched his body disintegrate into a pile of ash. She stepped over the ash and walked to Katherine, who lay paralysed by fear. She could still feel the pain from the fire Katie had brought to her not long before. Katie pressed her lips against Katherine's ear. "Wakey wakey," she whispered.

# Chapter 9

Rebecca walked in the shadows of the streetlights towards her apartment. Between her fingers, she grasped her last cigarette. She hesitated at every car that drove by, unsure if she was being followed. An opening between buildings led down a grubby alleyway. Dented trash cans had littered the ground with graffiti sprayed across the damp brickwork. Amongst a pile of broken and soggy boxes, an old man lay asleep in his own filth. Rebecca quietly walked past so not to disturb his slumber. She approached the stoop that led to her apartment and was pleasantly surprised to see a bloodied and beaten Dallas sitting waiting for her.

"Dallas," Rebecca called out, threw her cigarette to the floor and ran to him.

He stood up and embraced her. "They let you go then," Dallas winched at the pain of holding her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Rebecca, let go and tearfully apologised. "Let me get you inside and clean you up." She walked up to the steps where a chain was wrapped around the handles to her front door, secured by a padlock. She pulled out a key from her bra and unlocked the door.

They both entered a grubby, dark hallway and headed towards a set of heavy lift doors. Rebecca dragged open the heavy doors and caught Dallas as he fell into the lift. "Easy tiger," Rebecca laughed and pressed the top floor button. The lift juddered to life, and the doors slid shut. It slowly ascended as dim yellow lights flickered between the shadows. They came to an abrupt halt once the lift reached the top floor. Rebecca held Dallas upright and escorted him into her apartment.

Once inside, she threw him into the only a chair, a sunken and worn sofa, and switched the lights on. Large industrial bulbs brightened up the wide-open space. There were no separate rooms except for the bathroom, which was separated only by a partition of frosted glass. The kitchen space was sparse with an old rusty cooker and a retro style fridge. The mattress on the floor was sparsely covered with a few dirty bed sheets, and Rebecca's clothes hung in a door-less wardrobe.

"Nice place you've got here," Dallas said from the sofa as he surveyed the room.

"Thanks, but you don't have to, come on I know it's a bit of a dive," Rebecca laughed.

"Hey, it's a roof over your head," Dallas stretched and cried out from the pain in his side.

Rebecca rifled through the jar of pain killers from the top of the fridge, picked out a couple and then filled a glass of water. "Take these, they should help with the pain." She handed him the glass.

"Thanks," he swallowed the pills and gulped down the water.

Rebecca switched on the television which flickered to life, showing black and white pictures only. "Move over," she pushed next to him.

On screen, a reporter was talking in front of Dallas' apartment block. The whole building was ablaze. Fire engines filled the street with firemen drenching the structure in water. Policemen were seen escorting residents away from the flames.

"Can you change the channel, I need to switch off from the world for a moment," Dallas pointed at the screen.

Rebecca sat up and clicked the button to change the channel, they were left with a cooking show. "Is this more to your liking?" she sat back down.

"Why not," Dallas smiled. Rebecca raised Dallas' arm and placed it over her shoulder. For the next few hours that both sat silently enjoying the tranquillity away from the drama of the outside world.

"Dallas," Katie's young voice whispered.

Dallas shuddered and opened his eyes. To his surprise, morning had risen. The television was still on, but Rebecca was no longer by his side. He quickly sat up with dread until he realised the shower was running. Through the frosted glass, he could see her naked body. The water glistened off her smooth skin as she washed. Dallas rubbed his face with his hands and stood up. The pain in his side had eased, and he was able to walk unaided. He took off his top and removed his trousers.

Rebecca was unaware as Dallas snuck up behind her and kissed the back of her neck. His hands caressed her breasts, and she reached out with her hand and grabbed his hair. Rebecca groaned, as one of his hands, slid down her body and between her legs. She held on to him and clawed her nails with her other hand as she overcame with pleasure. Rebecca let out a cry of passion and Dallas pressed her up against the glass. Their bodies came together under the warmth of the shower. Her hand smeared the condensation, and Dallas grasped his hand over hers. A few more moments and Dallas slowed. He turned her around and softly kissed her on the lips.

"I guess you better wash now," Rebecca smiled and left the shower. She grabbed a towel from the radiator and wrapped it around her body. She walked across to the kitchen, leaving wet footprints in her wake and poured herself a glass of water.

Dallas washed the soap from his body and turned the water off, he looked around for another towel and could not see any. "You got another one?" he asked.

"Check the basket in the corner, there might be a spare in there. I can't promise it will be clean," Rebecca laughed as she unravelled the towel around her own body and dried her hair.

With water dripping from his body, Dallas walked to the basket and rummaged through the dirty washing, eventually finding a damp, off-white towel. "Looks like you're going to need a mop," he sarcastically replied to her, pointing to the water pooling on the floor.

"I haven't got one, so just try not to slip. Pass me your clothes, and I will give them a wash, you've got blood and all sorts on them."

"What am I supposed to wear in the meantime?" he picked his clothes up and threw them to her.

"I have some spare clothes a John left here, let me get some out for you." Rebecca took Dallas' and placed them in her washer. Next to it was a basket full of clean un-ironed clothes. Inside Rebecca found her clients clothes and dropped them onto the sofa. "Try those."

Luckily the clothes fit Dallas, he put on the jeans and t-shirt. He still wore his own coat and shoes. Rebecca dressed in baggy trousers and a loose top. She brushed her damp hair and tied it into a bun. "So, what's the plan for today, especially as most of the city will be after you?"

"I need to see my friend Gabriel, he will help us or at least tell us where we need to go," Dallas tied his shoelaces.

"Okay, you want a coffee, first?"

"We can get one on the way, plus a bit of breakfast, it's still early hopefully most of the city is still sleep."

"I guess I will have to put my life on hold for you today, then?" Rebecca joked.

"Life...you live in a warehouse and spend most of your day on your back," Dallas looked to get a rise out of her.

"Very funny, I know you're trying to wind me up," she bumped into Dallas. "Come on then," Rebecca picked up her short leather jacket and slipped her bare feet into her trainers. She picked up her keys and lead Dallas out of the apartment.

Rebecca linked arms with him as they walked down the street in the morning rain. The roads were quiet with very few drivers up at such an early time on the weekend and the pavements empty of pedestrians. The curtain and blinds were drawn in all apartments that overlooked them as they walked. The streetlights had only just turned off, and the feral foxes returned to their dens. They reached a small food outlet and stopped. Rebecca leant up against a tall tree with its red leaves falling into mounds underneath. She pulled out a cigarette and waited for Dallas.

Dallas approached the outlet. It was a small trailer which had a fat fryer ready to serve a mixture of unhealthy food. "Two breakfast wraps please," Dallas placed his money on the counter.

"Drinks?" the foreign old man asked.

"Yes, two coffees as well," Dallas turned to Rebecca as their food was cooking. "You should have brought your umbrella," he laughed, staring at a nearby drain which gurgled with overflowing water.

"I would have if I had one," she blew out smoke. "Besides it will stop in a moment," she looked up at the evaporating clouds.

"Sir," the man shouted at Dallas. He placed two cups of coffee on the counter, followed by the wraps.

Rebecca stubbed her cigarette on the ground and joined Dallas at the counter. She picked up the wrap and smelt the grease and fat emanating from it. "What on earth is in this?"

"A bit of everything really, sausage, bacon, egg, potato, mushrooms. A real healthy breakfast," Dallas smiled and took a bite into his wrap, as he did the yoke dripped from the side of his mouth.

"You missed some," Rebecca rolled her eyes.

"Grab your coffee and let's get going," he wiped the egg with his thumb and licked it off. They tucked into their breakfast and continued with their journey.

They arrived at the church Dallas had visited previously. By this point, the rain had stopped, and the roads had become busier with morning commuters. The doors were closed, and the metal gate in front of the edifice was padlocked. Dallas rattled the gate several times and sighed heavily. "Dammit," he mumbled to himself. "Come on, let's go around the back." He grabbed Rebecca's hand and lead her down the side of a church through an alleyway.

Just as they entered the narrow space, a car drove past its tires screeched. A teenage boy ran across the road and narrowly avoided being hit by the vehicle. The driver pressed his horn and shook his fist. The boy laughed and flicked his middle finger. Dallas paused and looked closely at the driver, he had to look twice, for a moment it looked like Damien was behind the wheel.

"What's the matter?" Rebecca grabbed Dallas' arm.

"Nothing I thought I saw someone," Dallas turned away. To the rear of the church was a small opening that led into the yard behind. Dallas pulled the broken fence panel and allowed Rebecca through first. They entered the empty yard space and saw a steel door. There was another lock on the door, but Dallas did not let this one stop him. He looked around the yard and saw a pile of large rocks. The lock didn't take much force to break, it crumpled after one hit.

The door led right into the nave of the church. "Gabriel?" Dallas shouted, his voice echoing in the emptiness. The room was cold, Dallas could see his breath. All the candles in the room were unlit, the only light came through the dirty windows. "Gabriel?" he repeated.

"I don't think anyone is here," Rebecca looked around.

"Stay here, let me check the back."

"What am I supposed to do on my own?" Rebecca wondered, folding her arms across her chest.

"I don't pray or something," Dallas left Rebecca in the nave and walked into the back room.

"Oh ok," Rebecca was surprised by Dallas' abrupt exit and sat down in a nearby pew.

Dallas walked through the door behind the altar and was relieved to find Gabriel in his office, though he did not seem himself. He was picking books from the shelf and flicking through the pages before throwing them to the floor. "I must find it," Gabriel kept repeating.

"Gabriel," Dallas softly spoke.

Gabriel turned towards Dallas's voice and dropped the book that he held in his hands. "My child, Dallas you are alive," he said, the relief evident in his voice as he held out his hands.

"Yes, I am," Dallas smiled and embraced Gabriel.

"I saw the news, Samael has found you," Gabriel released Dallas and returned to his books.

"Samael is not an issue, I can handle him," he paused, "Gabriel, what are you looking for?" "I must find it," he continued to repeat himself.

"Gabriel," Dallas shouted. "Take a break and sit down," he pulled him away from the books and sat him down. "Before you told me I must find this Katherine girl, but I do not have any way of finding out where she has been taken."

"It is too late Dallas if Samael has already come to you, he surely has his hands on her. The other girl Rebecca, where is she?" Gabriel's hand was shaking slightly, so Dallas reached out and held them between his own.

"She's out the front waiting for me, why?"

"My dear Dallas, hold on to her. Leave the city now, and you will be safe."

"What about you? And where shall I go?" Dallas stressed.

"I will be fine; it is you I worry for. Dallas, when you reach the outskirts of the city, your path will be waiting for you."

"For Christ's sake, stop speaking in riddles and just tell me what the fuck I should do!" Dallas raised his voice. Then he felt a small tremor. A couple of books fell from the shelves and a cup of water spilt from Gabriel's desk onto the carpet.

Rebecca burst into the room. "Dallas someone is at the door," she panicked.

"Leave, you leave now," Gabriel stood up, and the tremor ran through the room again.

"Come with us," Dallas pleaded, he held Gabriel's hands once more.

"Dallas no, you must continue your journey without me, I will be taken care of. Now go and look after this precious girl," Gabriel approached Rebecca. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Rebecca, even under such circumstances," he kissed her on each cheek.

"Oh, hi," Rebecca was taken by surprise, "you must be Gabriel."

"I have waited for an age to meet you, you are far more beautiful, then I would have imagined."

"How flattering, I assume you mean something different when you say you have been waiting to meet me, well, I mean compared to the other men in my life," she joked.

"Yes, it appears I do," Gabriel smiled. "You must listen to Dallas; he will keep you safe. Now leave, both of you," he ushered them to another door to the rear of the room.

Rebecca left through the door, but before Dallas left, he hugged Gabriel tightly. "May the Lord have mercy," Dallas released him and followed Rebecca only looking back once to see Gabriel watching him go as he clutched the doorway.

Once they were out of sight, Gabriel locked the door behind them, picked up his rosary beads from his desk and placed them around his neck. He grabbed his black cloak from the back of the chair and put it on and then he walked from the room into the nave. The temperature in the church had dropped further, and the light protruding through the grimy windows had lessened. Two vultures had entered the church and were perched either side of the main doors. They both rustled their feathers and glanced down at Gabriel. He walked to the statue of the Virgin Mary and lit five candles in front of her with shaking hands and sweaty palms.

Gabriel crouched to his knees and prayed. "In this moment of sorrow, the Lord is in my midst and consoles me with his word. Blessed are the sorrow, they shall be comforted..." as Gabriel finished speaking a cold gust of wind blew past him. All the windows descended into complete darkness, every candlestick in the church suddenly ignited with a tall bright flame.

"And he came to her and said, 'Greetings, O favoured one, the Lord is with you.' But she was greatly troubled at the saying and tried to discern what sort of greeting this might be," Damien's voice echoed from behind Gabriel.

"And the angel said to her, 'do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favour with God..." Gabriel replied and rose to his feet, turning around he saw Damien reading from the leather-bound bible while walking down the aisle, he too was dressed in a black cloak with a dog collar.

"Excellent Gabriel, you clearly know the verses written about you in this wretched book," Damien threw the book to the floor. "Do you like the outfit?" he held his arms out and turned around in a circle.

"Very fetching," Gabriel looked on disapprovingly.

"I thought it would suit the occasion, it's been many years since I stepped foot in a place of worship, I'm even surprised that I'm still welcome here."

"You are the son of our Lord, you will also have a place here, regardless of how evil you wish to become."

"And there it is, your lack of hate disgusts me. Can you for one moment show some anger? Show me some disgust, become aggressive Gabriel. What will it take for me to get a rise from you?" Damien smiled, showing two rows of perfectly pearly teeth.

"The Lord, our God, is merciful and forgiving, even though you have rebelled against him . . ."

"Oh, do shut up with your fucking biblical nonsense," Damien spat on throwing the bible to the floor with a deep thud. "Your lord does not give a fuck about you and any of these peasants. Relax a little Gabriel, come on have a drink..." in the darkness of the room an image of a bar rose behind Damien "No? Then what about smoke," a lit cigarette appeared in an ashtray on the bar. Gabriel didn't move a muscle. "Still can't tempt you...?" A young, good looking woman appeared behind the bar, she picked up the cigarette and seductively exhaled the smoke. "Not even she can tempt your urges. Ok then what about him?" an altar boy appeared before Gabriel and started to sing a hymn.

"Damien stop," Gabriel shouted in disgust.

"Too far?" Damien chuckled, "so you do have a limit."

"What do you want, Damien?"

"Now, Rebecca is in the care of Dallas there is no real need for you to be in this world anymore, so I thought it would be fitting if I were to help your soul vacate its vessel." Damien pulled a hunting knife from his clothing and pressed his thumb on this end of the blade.

"You will not harm her, she is beyond your reach, your father will make sure of that," Gabriel did not fear Damien's threats.

"My father has no power over me, he will soon learn that. Tell me, Gabriel, have you ever heard about the tale of Odran of Iona?"

"I may have once before." His face not betraying any knowledge.

"Odran was promised safe passage to Heaven if he were to sacrifice himself, so the church walls would not fall." Damien licked the drop of blood from his thumb and flick another droplet. "I wonder if you were buried underneath it whether your blessed church would remain."

"What are you suggesting?" Gabriel became confused.

The walls of the church cracked and separated. Brown vines with piercing thorns broke through the cracks and crawled along the floor. From one side, the vines swathed around Gabriel's wrist. He attempted to escape, but the thorns dug into his skin and wrapped around his bones. The vines captured his other wrist, and he was immobilised.

"You know what I found fascinating most about that tale, though?" Damien slowly walked to Gabriel. "After his body was laid to rest and the church was built, demons and angels were seen fighting over his soul before it finally made its way to heaven. I guess you had better hope the angels fight for you too."

Damien stepped back, and the floor beneath Gabriel cracked and crumbled away. Gabriel closed his eyes and whispered a prayer to himself. The floor descended into a dark bottomless pit below. Some of the furniture in the church was dragged into the hole, as if by a tremendous magnetic force. The front two rows of pews splintered and were consumed by the darkness. The statue of the Virgin Mary broke apart, the head fell from the body and shattered on the floor, the remaining part fell into the hole.

Damien held his arms out and shouted, "Let the fire of the holy spirit now descend that this being might be awakened to the world beyond and the life of earth and infused with the power of the holy spirit."

The vines carefully carried Gabriel down into the darkness. Colourless arms reached out through the soil around him, the cries of lost souls were deafening. The hole began to close in around him. The arms were pulled away, and the crying slowly faded away as Gabriel's body was crushed by the weight of the earth. His whole body was enclosed in a tomb of soil before the dirt reached his face, he lifted his head. The soiled hardened and he was trapped, leaving only his head above the ground.

Damien stepped onto the soil and crouched down. "It's time I leave Gabriel, I do hope you don't suffer too long..." he placed a black rose next to Gabriel, "who am I kidding, I shall enjoy this moment, knowing you will lie here in this tomb and suffocate. Let's hope the demons do not let me down and do drag your soul to hell." Damien kissed Gabriel on the forehead. "Goodbye." He stood up and walked out of the church.

Gabriel's chest had been fractured by the pressure of the ground. He did not have the strength to reply to Damien's taunts. He could only look toward the ceiling as he eventually lost consciousness.

# Chapter 10

'Ticket checks are in operation at this station, please have your ticket ready for inspection,' an announcement was played in the background of a cafe Dallas had taken Rebecca too. The cafe was a glass bowl in the centre of the busy city train station. Dallas and Rebecca were sat in the corner of the room away from the bust counter. The cafe was full of businessmen and parents trying to control their children. Rebecca dropped three sugar cubes into her cup of coffee and stirred. She poured in some milk and took a sip.

"So, let's get this straight, we are wanted by the city police, we have demons chasing us, the guy who was supposed to be looking over you is more than likely dead, and I'm dressed like a tramp," Rebecca frowned as she drank her coffee.

"Come on it's not all that bad," Dallas shrugged his shoulders.

"How, how is it not all that bad," she scowled at Dallas.

"Ok, so it's not the most ideal situation to be in, but at least you have some good company," he smirked.

"Don't flatter yourself," she shook her head with a wry smile.

Outside the cafe next to the large boards with the train arrivals and departments were multiple television screens. The news repeated every hour, but the on-screen story caught Rebecca's attention. A reporter was stood outside of Dallas' burnt apartment, she could not hear what the reporter was saying, but the headline below the reporter stood out, 'local priest attacked'. The news report switched to another reporter who was in front of the church they had fled, Gabriel's body was loaded into the back of an ambulance.

"Dallas look," Rebecca pointed to the screen, "Gabriel, he must be alive."

"What makes you believe that," Dallas turned around.

"There was an oxygen mask on his face, why would they give him that if he were dead. I thought you said he would not come out of there alive."

"I'm not sure, Damien should have killed him. Unless..." he paused.

"Unless what Dallas?" Rebecca asked and held Dallas' hand.

Dallas pulled his hand away and stood up, "excuse me, I just need the bathroom," he left Rebecca and entered the toilet near the counter.

Grant pulled up outside Gabriel's church. He climbed out of his car on his own and was welcomed by an eerie presence. Grant walked up to the door and noticed the lock had been shattered. He unbuttoned his gun holster and held the pistol in his hand. The door crept open with an unsettling creek. A smell of fire and brimstone washed over Grant. He had to reach for a handkerchief in his pocket to allow himself to breathe. He entered the room and was greeted with darkness, the windows were not broken but unusually not light was able to break through, except for one. The light glistened through one of the stained windows and shone upon the church floor. From what Grant could make out the ground had been disturbed.

"Hello," Grant called out. He scanned the room for any sign of life, but the church was still, "Gabriel," he called out again. Gabriel slowly walked down the middle of the church. He soon lowered his weapon when he realised what the light shone upon. "Holy shit," he whispered under his breath.

Gabriel's body was buried beneath the mixture of floor tiles and dirt. His arms lay open with rotten dry vines around his wrists. His head lay back with his eyes closed and dried blood around his mouth. An inverted cross had been burned into his forehead. Grant put away his gun and knelt. He pressed his fingers against Gabriel's neck and felt a faint pulse.

"Gabriel," he repeated.

"Dallas," Gabriel responded with a grown.

"That son of a bitch," Grant came to his own conclusion. "Wait here, I will get some help," Grant ran to his car to fetch his radio. He reached in the open window and picked up the receiver. "This is Grant, I need a fire crew, ambulance and some more units at my location now. I need a warrant placed out to all units in the city for Dallas Mitchel immediately, he is to be treated as hostile. I want his face on every front page in this city and all news stations."

Dallas flushed the chain in the small, dank toilet. Clumps of the damp newspaper were stuck along the edge of the floor, and the door had fallen from the cubicle. Dallas washed his face and placed both his hands either side of the sink, he gazed into the mirror and spoke, "Father, if you are listening, please help me, I am lost." The light in the room flickered, and a dark shadow eclipsed behind him. He recognised the presence, "Hello Katie," Dallas said to the shadow in the cubicle.

"He cannot hear you," Katie's ghostly shadow replied.

"No matter where my father is, I know he can hear me."

"One day you will realise who your father is," the shadow evaporated from behind him. Dallas turned around, and no one was in the cubicle. He returned to the sink and washed his face for a second time. With his hands over his face, Katie's voice returned, but she sounded more mature, "My vessel has been found, and you now have the manuscript. Return Rebecca to me, Dallas, and you shall be rewarded, we can be together again."

Dallas closed his fist and punched the mirror, upon impact the presence in the room left, and the mirror cracked. Dallas had cut his knuckle, but it was only a minor wound. He wiped his hands with tissue and left the toilet. He returned to the table and Rebecca was already standing to wait for Dallas.

"We have to leave," Rebecca panicked.

"What's the matter," Dallas held Rebecca.

"Dallas, look behind me at those screens, see someone familiar," she moved out of the way.

Dallas looked up and saw his face on all the television screens in the train station. It was up for a moment and then replaced with the weather report. He looked down and noticed two policemen engaged in conversation. They were discussing a piece of paper in one of their hands. One spoke into his radio, and the other turned to Dallas.

"Shit," Dallas murmured. He grabbed Rebecca's hand and led her out of the café. They walked quickly through the crowds of commuters. The two policemen saw Dallas leave and followed keeping their distance. Dallas pushed past people with no care for how hard he hit them. He headed for the closest platform, but each was operated by at least one policeman. Unable to reach any platform, Dallas stopped.

"What's wrong," Rebecca agitated.

"They are covering every platform, we catch a train, we need to try something else."

"Can't we just leave, we can get a cab or head back into the city," she suggested.

"If they are coving the platforms, then they will be outside too," he bit the nail on his thumb as he tried to think of a way out.

"Well then were Dallas," she looked behind and pulled on his shoulder as their pursuers got closer.

"Come on, this way," Dallas darted through the crowd and ran to a door leading to the car park. He pushed past a man in a suit holding two cups of coffee. The man lost his balance and cups tipped onto him, spilling coffee over his expensive jacket.

"Hey," the man tried to grab Rebecca, but she stopped and slapped him around the face.

"Watch yourself," she barked.

"Leave it, Rebecca," Dallas pulled her away and left the stunned gentleman. They entered a stairwell and ran as far down as possible. Four floors down and they reached the basement. Dallas led Rebecca through the door and into a quiet car park. They ran past each car, attempting to find one that happened to be unlocked. After five minutes of looking, they had no luck. At this point, the two tailing policemen entered the car park. "Get down," Dallas and Rebecca hid between two vehicles.

Both policemen investigated every car in the car park. Rebecca peered up and saw a set of keys in the car next to them. She reached up with her hand and quietly opened the door of the older sports coupe. She tapped Dallas on the arm and nodded to the car. He followed her as they both crawled into the car.

"Stay down," Dallas whispered to Rebecca. He closed the door and turned the key. The lights on the dashboard came on along with the radio. Rebecca was quick to turn the volume down before the policemen heard. "You ready," Dallas uttered. Rebecca nodded. He turned the ignition, but the car made a crunching sound. He repeated, but nothing happened.

"Dallas what's wrong," Rebecca panicked.

"Nothing's wrong," Dallas tried to reassure her. The sound gained the attention of their pursuers.

Rebecca looked up, and the policemen spotted her, "Dallas, their coming, get this thing moving."

"I'm trying Rebecca," he shouted. "Come on you piece of crap," he tried on more time, and the engine sputtered, he pressed his foot down on the accelerator and revved the engine. A plume of smoke burst from out the exhaust. "Hold on," he put the car into drive and accelerated. The car turned sharply and headed straight for the policemen. One jumped out the way, but the other was not so lucky, he bounced off the bonnet and was thrown into the window screen of another parked car. Dallas kept his speed up and attempted to get out of the carpark as quickly as possible.

It had started to rain outside despite the few clouds in the afternoon sky. Dallas broke through the carrier to the carpark and used the handbrake to help him turn the car abruptly. He was welcomed outside by two patrol cars. Their sirens ignited and immediately followed him. Dallas checked his mirror and had to shake his head to remove the faint image of Katie in the back seat of the car. He swerved through the traffic and headed for the main road. The window wipers were on full speed to sweep the rain from the window screen. Each driver Dallas cut up waved their fists and blew their horns.

"Slow down!" Rebecca screamed as she held on.

"Any slower and they will catch us," Dallas bit back. He looked in the mirror and saw Katie, still sat in the rear seat.

"Yeah Dallas, slow down," she grinned with a toothless smile. In anger, Dallas ripped off the rear-view mirror and threw it behind him.

"What are you doing?" Rebecca was worried at Dallas' erratic behaviour.

"Those sirens were distracting me," he avoided mentioning Katie.

Dallas approached a busy junction. Cars were lined up behind the red light. He put his foot down and drove between both sides of traffic to the annoyance of the other road users. A cyclist crossing the junction was forced to abandon his bike and jumped to safety. The bike was thrown into the air as it bounced off the bonnet. Rebecca held her hands over her eyes too scared to see if they would make it through the oncoming traffic. Dallas drove through the red light and turned sharply to avoid another car. He clipped the rear end of the car and fought the steering wheel to keep control of the vehicle.

"Oh my god Dallas," Rebecca said with a sigh of relief, she looked behind and witness other cars bump into each other as they braked to avoid Dallas. One of the pursuing police cars managed to swerve through the traffic. However, the other was not so lucky. A lorry hit the side of the vehicle, and the driver lost control. The driver was crushed, and the tires popped. The car flipped into the air, and the roof caved in as the car slid into the pavement.

The main road took them to the outskirts of the city toward the toll bridge. There was more traffic taking turns to pay the toll. Dallas could not afford to wait; he drove on the wrong side of the road. He hit an unlucky person on a moped, Rebecca turned around to make sure the person got up. Dallas sounded his horn to warn others of his presence and clear a path through the toll station. A security guard attempted to stop Dallas by waving his arms, but he ignored him. The car crashed through yet another barrier, this time through the plastic barrier cracked the window screen and broker the window wipers.

Unbeknown to Dallas above the barrier a sign lit up, and the letters scrambled until four words were left 'Bridge of the Requiter'. The rain intensified, and the bridge became enclosed by a thick fog. Neither Dallas nor Rebecca could see the wire supporting holding the bridge up. At first, Dallas had to avoid the onslaught of headlights coming towards him, but they soon eased, and they were driving along. Dallas slowed down, unsure exactly what was happening. He glanced out of his window and saw the bridge had gradually narrowed until there was just enough space for their car.

"What's going on, Dallas?" A confused Rebecca asked.

"Katie, she's doing this. It's an illusion do not let her enter your mind," Dallas placed his hand on her thigh to try and reassure her. The fog in front began to disperse with a dotted white line down the middle of the tarmac. The rain had stopped, and ash fell from grey clouds above. The road became too thin for the car to go any further. Dallas slammed on the breaks, and they came to a halt. He looked in the rear-view mirror and could see the fog behind illuminated with red and blue lights from the oncoming police cars. Dallas opened his door and peered below. He was greeted with a large drop into the deep, ferocious river below. "Yeah, we need another way out," he laughed.

"Dallas!" Rebecca shouted and pointed in front of her. The narrow continued for fifty meters before it expanded into another cloud of fog. A bright spark of thunder ignited the mist. As the light department, a shadow appeared, and a figure walked from out the fog.

"Vizareah," Dallas quietly spoke.

"Who," Rebecca turned to Dallas.

"Then the fiend, named Vizareah, carries off in bonds the souls of the wicked who live in sin," Dallas looked up and saw the sunroof. He pressed the button to open it, but the sunroof jammed, "Dammit," he cursed. "Cover your eyes," he used his elbow, and with several hits, he managed to shatter the window.

Rebecca opened her eyes and at this point, gained a full view of Vizareah. The fiend was eight-foot-tall with a large muscular frame. A torn cloth was wrapped around its waist. Its skin scorned with a black steal round helmet on its head. In its hand, it dragged a sword twice its length. Half the sword a spear to hold and the danger itself split into two blades. They could hear the blades scrape against the tarmac.

"Rebecca get out, we need to leave now," Dallas ordered. Rebecca nodded and placed her handed on the roof and pulled herself out of the car. Dallas quickly followed, and they both jumped onto the road behind the vehicle.

In front of them, the red and blue lights joined them from out the fog. Three police cars came to a standstill. "Dallas Mitchel, place your hands in the air," an officer climbed out of his car and shouted with his gun pointed in toward them.

"So, what's your plan now genius," Rebecca firmly held Dallas' hand.

"We have two options really don't we, our souls are taken by that thing behind us, or we turn ourselves into the cops," Dallas shrugged his shoulders.

"Is that it?" Rebecca angrily replied and let go of his hand. She moved her foot and the tarmac crumbled, and she nearly slipped over the edge. Dallas reacted quickly and held onto to her.

"Dallas let the girl go and place your hands into the air; otherwise we will be forced to shoot," the office shouted once more.

"Can you not see what is behind us," Rebecca lent her head back and shouted. The policemen were puzzled, they could only see an empty bridge with shrouds of fog.

"They cannot see him," Dallas whispered, he grabbed her hand, "we have entered Katie's nightmare, she can control who or what we see."

"Okay so what else do you suggest?"

"Dallas, I will not repeat myself again," the officer took a step forward.

Dallas took a quick glance behind and the fiend was almost upon them. Rebecca could feel the warmth from its skin and the stench from its breath. "Do you trust me," Dallas asked.

"I always do don't I," Rebecca looked at Dallas with a smile.

"Good, now, let's jump."

"No fucking way am I jumping in there, look at it," Rebecca tried to wrestle free from Dallas, but he would not let her go.

Dallas saw the officer ready the trigger. "Rebecca, trust me," Dallas starred into her eyes. That look was all she needed, she held his hand, and together they jumped. They flapped their arms and legs and fell for what seemed like an eternity. The impact into the ice-cold water was a shock to their system, and they were swept down the river.

On the bridge, officers were unable to see them jump, Dallas and Rebecca appeared to have vanished. The fiend and narrow road were replaced by the full-sized bridge. The fog returned and surrounded the six officers, whom all vacated their vehicles. There was still no sign of any traffic apart from a few abandoned cars. Katie's childish laugh echoed through the clouds of fog.

"Anyone hear that?" a nervous officer wondered through the abandoned cars looking for a source for the laughter.

"Over there," another pointed. Inside the cabin of a stranded lorry slumped the driver with his neck slit open. On top of the roof sat Katie, in her clean dress singing to her teddy bear.

"The Earth fell silent for the night,

the Ravens return to nest as the sunset dies.

His dark soul rises, anxious and awake,

the taste of blood his spirit does crave.

Six souls wait, stood before him."

"What the hell is that," an officer approached Katie, "Hey little girl," he lowered his gun. The others closed in and all dropped their weapons. The fog darkened until they were shrouded in nothingness. Katie looked up and stared at them with a menacing smile to continue her song.

"In search of those who stay away,

he turns to the souls who stand in his way.

He'll slice and dice and cut you up,

don't look know close your eyes.".

"The beast has come to claim his prize," Samael's voice came from out the darkness. He used his sword to slice one of the officers in half from his head to groin. Another Samael threw against a car window screen and shattered his spine with the impact. Two others tried to use their weapons to disable Samael, but the bullets would not fire. Samael laughed used his sword to slice their throats one by one. Each looked in horror as blood flowed from their severed neck. Their limp bodies staggered to the flood and collapsed along the stained tarmac. Samael was left with two.

"Please, show mercy," the smaller of the officers knelt and held his hands out to Samael.

Samael stood in front of the officers and smirked, he raised his sword and struck it through the officer's wrists. He rolled around on the floor and cried out in agony as blood sprayed out from his open wounds. Katie jumped off the roof and walked in the pool of blood. She sat on her knees and stained her dress. "There shall be no mercy," Katie scorned and rested her hand on the distraught man's face. His skin turned pale, and veins on his face turned a cold blue. He was unable to breathe, and the blood from his severed wrists dried up. He tried to escape Katie but was not able to move. Katie blew in his face, and his skin dried out. His eyes rolled back, and his skin cracked before his body fell apart into piles of ash and bone. Katie took a hand full of ash and allowed it to slip between her fingers.

The last remaining officer trembled; urine dripped down his leg. He turned to run, but Katie appeared before him, she started to laugh. The officer slowly stepped back and stood in the ash remains of his colleague. He rested against the bonnet of his car, "who are you," he wept.

"Not even in your worst nightmare could you ever imagine who I am," Katie said with disdain.

"Katie, leave him be," Samael placed his sword in front of her and stopped her movement.

"Samael, please one more," she looked up at him.

"You have already let Dallas escape again, perhaps you should pay more attention to what you are supposed to be doing," Samael questioned Katie's behaviour much to her disgust.

"I can do as I please, I am a little girl, you are the big warrior, surely it is you that must be held accountable for your own failings in capturing him. I am merely a wondering ghost. Oh my, don't tell me the great Samael is outclassed by a human," Katie mocked him.

Samael raised his sword growled. He raised his weapon and sliced it through the officer's head. From ear to ear half his head was cut in two, the upper half of his head slid from his body and fell against the bonnet. The rest of his body tumbled to the floor. "Do not question my ability, little girl," Samael shouted.

# Chapter 11

"Rebecca, Rebecca." Soaked wet Dallas crouched over and repeated himself as he tried desperately to wake Rebecca. They were both swept to the riverbank after escaping their pursuers. Dallas' clothes were drenched and were now covered in mud from the wet floor. Rebecca lay on her back, unresponsive. Her face was pale, and her skin was cold. He thumped her chest to clear her chest of the water. His efforts were not helped by the lashings of rain and the stiff breeze that rattles the forest they lay in. After trying for ten minutes, she coughed and turned her head as water poured from her mouth.

"Dallas," Rebecca mumbled and reached out to grab his arm.

Dallas picked up Rebecca by the shoulders and embraced her. He placed his hand on her head and rested her head against his shoulder. "I thought you were gone," he cried with joy.

"It's going to take a lot more than a cold river to get rid of me," she laughed and pulled away from Dallas. She looked into his eyes and kissed him. "Where are we?" she asked.

"Downstream in a forest, I assume. Catch your breath, we must leave immediately." Dallas helped Rebecca to her feet. She crossed her arms and stood shivering. Dallas rubbed her arms, "if we move quickly, we can keep warm. Hopefully, the trees should keep most of the rain off us."

They walked from the muddy riverbank and up into the embankment that leads into the forest. Tall green lush redwood trees towered of them. Tree roots rose between the dead leaves in the muddy ground. Only small droplets made their way to the floor with most of the rain caught by the tree branches. Squirrels leapt between the roots in the ground and scurried along the tree trunks. Waves of sparrows nestled in the trees above, their conversations echoed throughout the forest.

"How long have we got to walk," Rebecca moaned after only setting off.

"Until we reach a road, we can hitch a ride out of town," Dallas replied. He was unsure how far they had travelled downstream, nor how far the nearest road was.

"This isn't exactly how most nights with my clients end," she joked.

"More exciting than cleaning the juices from your clothes then," Dallas replied, taunting Rebecca.

"Very funny," she pushed him playfully in the arm. "I ought to charge you for this extra time."

"By all means, take what's left in wallet, I'm not sure a few ripped notes soaked in the river will buy you much though," he pushed her back. The approached a hillside. It was too steep to continue walking. "You climb up first, and I will wait in case you fall," Dallas held his hands out ready to give Rebecca a lift.

"Ever the gentlemen," she smiled and stepped on his hands. He rose his arms, and she grabbed onto the ledge and lifted herself up. She climbed to her feet and was disappointed to see another mile of trees and mud. Dallas quickly climbed up behind her. "Dallas, what the fuck, I wet, cold and hunger," she scorned.

"I would offer you my coat, but in case you could not tell, I'm in the same position. Just keep walking I'm sure we will get there soon," Dallas started walking alongside Rebecca.

"Okay, so are you going to explain what happened back there?"

"Explain what exactly, the police were chasing us, and some demon tried to kill us. Not much to explain given what's happened over the last couple of days," Dallas shrugged his shoulders.

"Not that, I get you lead a very messed up life, I mean, who's Katie. You mentioned her back on the bridge and most nights I spend with you, you talk about her in your sleep. Is she your wife?"

"Ha, far from it, she was my adopted sister."

"Adopted?" Rebecca asked, confused.

"Yeah, it was a little complicated, a story for another time perhaps," Dallas tried to avoid the subject.

"Dallas, your making me walk miles with no hope of finding anyone, the least you can do is share a little about your life.

"Fine," Dallas gave in and told Rebecca how he and his father first encountered Katie.

The icy water glistened in the darkness of the moonlight sky. The waves crashed against the rocks upon the shoreline. A small fishing boat slowly crawled through the depths of the Baltic Sea toward the shores of the mighty Soviet Union. At its Wheel, an old sea Captain smoked his pipe, steering the vessel away from the frightening sharp rocks. In front of him, a priest waited for the boat to dock. Alick wore a long trench coat to fight off the arctic chill. The light from the harbour gradually became brighter and brighter as they prepared to dock.

The dock was empty, only a few other fishing boats kept this small town in business. Its residents were tucked away from the icy chill. The captain slowed the engine until it came to a stop and the boat rocked to a steady halt. He threw a rope onto the dock and tied his vessel. Alick followed and climbed up on the wooden platform.

"Take care of the boy," Alick said to the Captain. He referred to his son, who was asleep in the cabin. The Captain didn't speak; he just nodded his head.

Alick walked along the creaky wooden planks. Underneath the waves quietly swept around the rustic supports. At the end of the harbour, another priest waited in a horse-drawn carriage. Alick did not hear for a friendly chat, he was here to find the last part of the Jericho Manuscript an ancient scripture that once read together could help prevent the return of Legion the Lord of the Underworld. Father Michael opened the door to welcome Alick.

"Good morning, Alick, it is good of you to join us" Michael helped him into the carriage.

"The pleasure's mine Father" Alick met the welcome with a gracious smile.

The driver whipped his horses into motion; they galloped from the waterfront and out into the countryside to a nearby village. The village was dark and quiet, no-one yet awake as the sun just broke through the horizon. The houses were built from solid oak wood and thick thatched roofs perfect protection from the arctic cold. They came to a halt at the top of the village in front of a church. This, unlike the rest of the buildings, was made from stone and had been standing for a hundred years. The stain glass windows shone brightly in the glaze of the morning sun. Both Michael and Alick climbed from the carriage. Next to the church was Michaels home like the rest of the village.

"Please Alick do come in" Michael held the door open for Alick.

Inside the room was very basic, there sat a couch next to a wood burning stove and an old, discoloured rug. The kitchen stove was stood opposite; a housekeeper was boiling the kettle, preparing a hot drink for the visitor. The housekeeper placed the pot on a tray and sat it on the table accompanied by several mugs. Alick and Michael took a seat each at the table as a drink was poured for each of them.

"Quite a cute little village you have here, Michael" Alick uttered.

"Thanks not too much similar to the one we grew up in" Michael chuckled.

"Well take away the snow and ice and the wintery blast I would say so. It has been a while old friend, you should come back and visit once in a while, or have the commies trapped you here."

"Not quite, I cannot leave these people they need me. A demon lurks the nearby woods no one can escape, several villagers and workers at the docks have met untimely ends."

Alick sat up with a worried look, "how do you know it is a demon and not just a feral animal searching for food.

"The marks left..." Michael stopped mid-sentence with Alick's interruption.

"Marks, what sort of marks," Alick asked.

"Similar to those of the beast and his daughters," Michael was referring to the signs they both found at other churches.

"Are you sure that was the symbol you found?" Alick was still unsure.

"Yes, I am not mistaken trust me; it was the symbol of the beast."

"This is not good" Alick stood up and walked over to the frosted window. "Samael, the demon is Samael I know it. He must be here for the script as well."

"The script, how can you be sure he knows where it is."

"That I am unsure about, he doesn't know where it is, there must be something else as well. When I was told about the scripts, I was told I would meet a young girl who would help unravel the secrets of the script."

"You mean the myth about Katie, Alick; she is a false prophecy," Michael was very stern with his words about Katie.

"Michael, I do not know of a myth, I was never told it would be her."

"Alick she is Legions daughter do not believe what you have heard about her, she did not turn her back on her father. Her soul will always possess evil."

"Michael, I was told the girl I meet is our hope to fight evil if it is Katie, then I do believe she will help us, why else would Yahweh have trusted her."

"Her beauty speaks volumes she manipulates man far too easily, say what you will if I find her, I will make sure she cannot walk this earth anymore."

"I guess I shall I have to find her first," Alick winked at Michael.

There was a knock at the door, which helped break the increasing tension between these two men of God. Michael opened the door and invited the guest inside. Leon walked inside; he was Michael's apprentice, a young skinny boy desperate to learn Michael's trade.

"Good morning gentlemen, ah you must be Alick," Leon greeted Alick.

"Good morning," Alick replied.

"Michael tells me you have come to retrieve the last script."

"Indeed, I have; has he also told you where we are headed to get it?" Alick was interested to see how much this young boy knew.

"Only that the script is hidden away in the fifth and final Church of Jericho, but as of yet we do not know the location of the church."

"Well, this is where I am needed," Alick pulled out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and unfolded it onto the table. "On here, you will see the location of our destination." Alick pointed out a cave just located outside of the village.

Michael looked at the map, "That cave is not far from here if we take a couple of horses, we can make it by mid-afternoon."

"Michael are you sure you want to come, if Samael is here, he will not hold back he will try to kill you. I have fought him before I know what he is capable of."

"Do not worry for our safety we will be fine; I must see this church for myself. I was told the churches of Jericho hold great beauty."

"If you do wish to come, make sure you arm yourself, if Samael is there at least give yourself a fighting chance, the same goes for you, Leon. "

Together all three headed toward the stables to the rear of Michael's home. Michael only had two horses; they were magnificent stallions. "Leon ride with me" Michael jumped onto his horse and held a handout for Leon to join him.

Alick walked around his horse, inspecting it. He wanted to make sure the mare could make a hasty escape if necessary. Pleased with his horse, he mounted and steadied his steed. With the two of them, ready Michael led the way out of the village.

Michael and Alick arrived at the entrance to the cave. It was at the bottom of a tall mountainous cliff face. The two-mile journey was extended by the vastness of the forestation and the endless streams separating the pathway. The sun pierced through the cold thin air, but no matter how much sunlight there was no ounce of light would displace the darkness of the cavern.

Alick was the first to dismount, he was too eager to enter and find the last Script. Michael soon followed with Leon. Michael had with him two lanterns, one of which he gave to Alick, Leon would have to walk in darkness. Above the entrance written in what Leon hoped wasn't blood was a wooden sign nailed with the symbol of Legion and Katie. Alick knew this would be no easy get; none of the other churches had this symbol they were an easy get in and go, this time Alick would have to fight for the treasure.

In single file, they walked into the cave, instantly hit by the smell of fire and brimstone. Inside the cave, there was no glimpse of the end, there was just infinite darkness. Once the light from the opening had disappeared, they were alone in the obscurity. Michael walked in front; there he heard the faint sound a something eating. The sound became more recognisable, the closer they got. Alick leapt ahead of Michael and halted the party. He held out the lamp at arm's length, this enlightened a dog ravaging on a corpse. This was no ordinary dog, its skin was burned and blistered, and the dog looked up and snarled at them to leave. Alick discreetly drew his sword from his coat and gently approached the animal. This time it did not take a second glimpse with some of the corpse's rotten flesh in its jaw it launched at Alick. With one swoop Alick sliced through the gut of the dog, both parts of the animal slid across the floor as its body drained of life.

"Alick why do you carry such a sword as a man of God, surely that cannot be allowed," Leon was quick to judge Alick for his heroism.

"It is not a sin to protect one's self. Besides, this sword has the blessing of Yahweh, it is a great aid when in the presence of evil. Leon, you should always carry something to defend yourself you can never tell when you will need it. Now let's carry on," Alick continued further through the darkness.

Another ten minutes lapsed as the cave opened up to into a vast cavern hundreds of feet wide. The burning flame from the lamps reflected from diamonds embedded into the walls, this minimal light helped them see a little further ahead. A few more steps forward revealed a wooden rope bridge heading into the darkness. Below a cliff disappeared into infinite nothingness. Alick was the first to inspect the bridge, it seemed healthy, or at least Alick hoped it was. He took his first step, and there was a loud creak that echoed throughout the cavern.

Michael grasped Alick's arm "You're not going to cross are you; we don't even know what's on the other side?"

"Where's your faith Michael, the Church is there, it has to be," Alick attempted to reassure Michael.

"But how can you be sure?"

"Belief," Alick replied with only one word.

This time Michael did not argue he saw the belief in Alick's eyes and followed him across. Leon kept quiet and followed his elders. With each step, the bridge groaned and swayed gently side to side. Halfway across and it seemed to weaken, and the groans increased. Alick picked up the pace to reach the other side.

Alick was astounded at what lay ahead; the bridge lay attached to what he could only assume was a floating island. There seemed to be nothing keeping it afloat. Alick and Michael both reached the end, but before Leon got there, one of the planks gave way, and he lost his footing. He fell against the ropes, and his body slid through the gap. Leon panicked and assumed the worst until Alick stepped in and pulled him up.

"Mind your step," Alick tried to make light of the situation.

"Thank you," Leon's heart raced.

The floating island was only small, in the middle bore the Church Alick had been searching for. As they walked from the bridge stood two massive marble pillars with gargoyles rested on top. This increased the anxiety amongst the group. The Church itself brought more unease; it was an old stone medieval building. There were dark stained windows and several more gargoyles. They walked to the foot of the staircase that led into the church. Alick found an old torch on the floor; he dusted it off and tried to light it with his lamp by dripping some of the oil onto the tip.

"Leon, take this torch, I want you to stay outside. If you see or hear anything that seems unusual, then call us."

"Unusual, we're standing on a floating Island all of this seems unusual," Leon took the torch from Alick.

"I take your response as a yes, Michael come with me," Alick marched up the stairs. He pushed the tall, heavy oak door open. Inside was very different from the outside. It was lathered with gold and silver vases, pictures and other valuables. There were two rows of pews, but to Alick's disgusted they were littered with rotten corpses, they were almost mummified. Alick could not tell how long they had lain for; Michael soon entered the room and was taken aback just as much from the sight of the souls that rested in what had become their tomb.

Alick approached the rear of the room. There was a high golden cross nailed to the back wall. Below scattered across the floor were dozens of papers. He called Michael over to help sift through the documents to see if the script was amongst them. Alick knew he had to find a piece that was written in Aramaic the same as the rest of the manuscript.

Towards the right of the cross, Alick saw a staircase descending beneath the church. He did not question what danger could lie down there, he just walked straight down. It was a crypt, there were several stone coffins, who could possibly have been sent to these tombs. The ceiling was low so he could not stand straight. The visibility was reduced, the only light came from Alick, however, unlike upstairs the room was roasting. In the far corner was a tomb different from the others, it was slightly bigger and was made from marble, this coffin had to be important. Alick crept to the grave, the lid was already ajar. Alick tried to push the top further, but the sheer weight made it impossible to move one handed. He placed his lamp on the ground, and with both hands, he slowly moved it, given the weight Alick only managed to move it slightly more, but this created enough space to see what was inside.

He picked up the lamp to have a look inside. It was filled with bones but not just from one person, but it looked like there were several people. Alick did not take care of the bones he sieved through them with many bones breaking up. Amongst the silence of the darkness, Alick heard tiny footsteps of a child with a gentle giggle. His thoughts instantly turned to Katie, was it her walking up to him. He rapidly turned around, but to his bewilderment, there was nobody just the empty darkness. When he turned back to the coffin, a small leather case was sat on top. Alick was even more confused, what was going on.

He blew the mountain of dust from the case. He untied the straps and pulled out what was inside. There was only a single sheet of stained torn paper. One glance and Alick new straight away this was the final piece, he had now found the complete Jericho Manuscript. He left the case on the coffin and folded the paper into his pocket.

"Michael time to leave," Alick told Michael as he made his way back into the church. Before Michael could reply, they both heard the coffins beneath move. "Michael, go now" He raised his voice.

Two beasts jumped out from the tomb below. They were two small minions too similar to ones Alick had fought before; he knew how to handle these foul creatures. Both crawled along the walls circling Alick and Michael denying exit from the Church. They focused most of their attention on Michael. First, they knew he would not be able to handle himself, and Alick knew that. From his coat, Alick pulled out his sword and prepared for battle. The first minion launched itself it the air and lunged at Michael, this left the second one to Alick. It had hardened elbows to help withstand the coming blows from Alick's constant attacks. Dummying an attack Alick seized its arm and threw it across the room, and it crashed into several pews. Alick ran over to help Michael, with one clean swoop he cut the Minions arm from its body and with another swing he carved through its gut.

"Michael grab Leon and get out of here, I'll deal with this last foul creature" Alick ordered Michael to leave.

Michael ran outside "Leon" he shouted, "Leon, where are you?" Leon had disappeared he was not waiting outside as Alick had asked.

Alick walked to Michael after he had decapitated the minion. "Where is Leon?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"Quick, we have to get out of here; Leon may have run ahead, the other minion is still in there."

The two of them ran towards the bridge, as they approached a dark shadowy figure appeared at the foot of the bridge. It walked into the light of Michael's lamp; it had Leon in its grasp. The figure was Samael, he had been haunting the village waiting for Alick's arrival. Samael flung Leon across the floor; he had come for Alick.

"Do you think you can put up a better fight this time Alick" Samael growled, as he pulled his sword from his back.

"One on one this time Samael are you sure you do not need you little cretins" Alick mocked Samael.

Samael responded with an evil smile and lunged with his weapon. Alick was quick to acknowledge he defended Samael's move with his own sword, they continued to exchange swipes at each other. Samael threw a powerful attack that forced Alick to the ground. He did his best to stop the blade slicing his neck. Alick used all his energy and tossed Samael into the air and through the side wall of the church.

"Come on let's go" Alick led Michael and Leon across the bridge as they quickly made their exodus.

Samael picked himself up and dusted off some of the rubble from his vast shoulders. "Hey" he shouted to the minion, "stop them." The minion did not reply; it merely ran after Alick and the others. Samael came to the bridge; he saw the minion disappear into the darkness. He used his sword to hack the rope keeping the bridge attached the ground. With one last slice, the bridge gave way and collapsed.

Alick felt the vibrations of the falling bridge and jumped to the other side, Michael managed to grab hold of the edge of the cliff face. Alick helped Michael up onto safety, Leon was not so lucky. Too far behind, he held onto the ropes as it smashed against the cliff. The bridge came to a standstill as it hung from the edge. The minion also grabbed onto the lines, it though did not stay still, and it quickly climbed to Leon.

"Help!" Leon shouted.

"Climb up Leon, I'll grab you," Michael replied.

Leon started to climb up the wrecked bridge, but the minion grasped his foot. Michael saw the struggle Leon was in so leant over to try and grab him.

"Help me, Father," Leon became frightened.

"Leon, reach my hand," Michael yelled back.

All three of them heard Samael roar from the other side of the cavern. "Michael, we really need to leave. You must let go of Leon; Yahweh will take care of him now."

"No, I cannot leave him, we cannot let him die," Michael tried to fight of Alick.

"Michael Samael will kill us both if we do not leave now, Leon will be safe."

The minion's hold got stronger and stronger before Leon realised his fate and looked up to Michael, "let go, save yourself you cannot help me now," Leon released his hold and fell with the minion into the darkness of the cannon.

"Forgive me," Michael cried. He climbed to his feet and punched Alick.

Alick did not retaliate "I am sorry for your loss, but we need to go."

Samael roared again, this time the ground began to shake, and rocks fell from the ceiling. The cavern had started to collapse. Alick and Michael ran through the cave to escape the impending cave in. The ground rumbled all the way up to the surface, every so often Alick could hear the same laughter from before, but again there was no sign of where it was coming from.

They emerged from the darkness and gasped for the freshness of the evening air. The horses were still stood waiting for their master's return. Alick and Michael both galloped back to the village. When they arrived, they were greeted by a deathly silence. The further they cantered into the village they saw more and more bodies scattered across the icy ground. Each corpse battered and bruised covered with the redness of death. Every villager had been slaughtered only Michael and Alick remained. The girl's voice again echoed around the village, Alick could not pinpoint the direction of the sound until they arrived back at Michael's church. At the entrance of the church stood a little girl, she must have been five at best, stood in a scraggy dress, knotted dark hair. Alick was quick to jump from his horse he knew she was Katie as he had been told.

"Hey, Alick take a look around this is your fault you are to blame for all the death" Michael shouted at Alick.

"Michael now is not the time Samael is on his way, come with me," Alick tried to calm Michael down.

Michael looked over Alick's shoulder and saw the girl. He, too, knew she was Katie. "Ok, Alick sorry for my reaction I will accompany you."

"Thank you," Alick smiled and relaxed.

Michael used this as an opportunity to put Alick to the floor. Alick continued to walk to Katie; Michael found a broken plank of wood on the floor and crept up to Alick. He thumped Alick over the head with the wood and knocked Alick unconscious. Michael ran to the girl and took her inside the church.

Alick opened his eyes with a throbbing headache. The icy chill of the night sky has woken him; he had been lying there for over an hour. Alick got to his feet and scanned for Michael, but the only source of light came from the church. Michael must have taken Katie with him. Alick darted to the door, but Michael had barricaded himself in. Alick heard the screams of Katie, "Michael," Alick yelled. There was no response, just the continued screams from Katie.

Alick hurried around the church, but there was no other entrance. He found a large rock on the floor light enough to pick up but heavy enough to cause some damage. He took a few steps back and propelled it through the panels of the wooden door; it only took one throw to create a big enough hole to crawl through.

Inside Alick found Katie tied to a cross; Michael was on his knees, praying. "Michael, you do not need to do this." There was no response from Michael; he did not distract himself from his actions. "Michael, she is not evil, she is our hope." Again, there was no answer. Alick placed his hand upon Michael's shoulder.

Michael looked up, "You brought the beast to my village; you have brought death to my people." Michael stared at Alick.

"Michael, I do not want to fight," Alick tried to calm the situation.

Michael did not calm down. Instead, he attacked Alick again, but this time Alick did react and returned a couple of punches himself. The doors of the church were blown from their hinges. This quickly halted their fight. Samael had caught up with them; although Samael could not enter the House of God.

"What's the matter, can't you come in," Michael chuckled at Samael.

"Laugh now priest," Samael smiled back.

Alick used this distraction to seize Katie from the cross. He knew the only way he could escape now was to distract Samael and Michael even further. Alick used his lighter to set fire to the cloth that lay across the pews. The fabric and wooden benches quickly engulfed in flames the perfect camouflage. The cross also caught fire and relinquished Yahweh's presence in the church. Samael saw this and decided to shut Michael up by entering the church.

"Still laughing," Samael chuckled.

Michael tried to run from Samael, but he was too quick for him. Samael lifted Michael in the air with his powerful arms. He ripped Michael's torso with his other hand, he did not take his time in dissembling Michael's body. With one last breath, Samael crushed his skull. Samael threw away Michael's mutilated corpse and looked around for Alick. He saw Alick at the entrance of the church with Katie.

"Alick," he roared.

Alick stopped and looked Samael in the eyes with fear that he would not escape. The roof above Samael crumbled. He was consumed by the falling debris. Finally, Alick could make his escape. He jumped back onto his horse with Katie in his grasp and galloped back to the docks to return to home.

Samael had already been here too, there were dead bodies scattered across the marina. Alick saw the body of his Captain with his heart removed from his chest. Happily, Alick's son had escaped the fury of Samael and appeared from the cabin of their boat. He was a few years older than Katie, mature for his age with the sights he had seen accompanying his father.

"Dallas set sail we are to leave immediately," Alick shouted. He did not question what had happened; he already knew this was the work of Samael. "Dallas, this is Katie we are to take care of her."

"Hi, I'm Dallas," he politely greeted Katie.

Katie didn't say anything she just smiled back; she was too overcome with the whole situation; it was a lot to take in for a young girl like her.

Alick started the boat's engines, and it crawled from the harbour. The clouds soon dispersed, and they were greeted with a full moon that shone across the cold calm ocean. Dallas grabbed a jacket from the cabin and placed it over the shoulders of a shivering Katie. He then joined his father in the cabin to escape the chill of the chilly air.

Katie stood at the rear of the boat and stared at the distancing harbour. She caught the sight of Samael and his striking red eyes. She did not frown nor scream but smiled, she looked like the portrait of innocence but the picture of evil.

# Chapter 12

Away from the hospital, Katherine found herself back in more familiar surroundings. Without any reasonable explanation from the doctors, she had made a complete recovery, and against their wishes, her parents had brought her home. Katherine was sat in her parent's dining room around a large, round table. Bookcases were stacked against the back wall, and the curtains were drawn across the windows. Her mother lent over to light the three candles in the middle of the table. Opposite Katherine sat her tall, skinny, dark-haired brother Jarvis, who had come home from university.

"A bit much isn't it mother, just for a Chinese," Jarvis mocked his mother. He was studying medicine and found it somewhat unusual Katherine could be released so quickly, so quickly in fact that he did not believe the extent of her injuries.

"It's a couple of candles Jarvis," Katherine snapped at her brother.

"Both of you stop, let's not spoil this evening, it's not often your father treats us all to a takeaway," their mother replied, she picked up the bottle of wine on the table and poured each of them a glass.

"Thank you," their father closed the door to the delivery driver and entered the dining room. "Who's hungry," he held the food up and placed the bag on the table. They each helped open the cartons of food and began unloading the mixture of noodles and rice dishes onto their plates. "Katherine it's nice to have you home, we nearly lost you for a moment, but like a true warrior you are you defied the odds and pulled through,"

"Welcome home, honey," her mother also smiled at her.

"Yeah, welcome home," Jarvis found this situation a bit weird as she was only gone a week.

"Thanks, guys," Katherine blushed, "have you heard of the other guys?"

"Cindy's mom said she had a phone call off her the other day, she said the signal was weak and could barely hear her. She said that you had driven off, and they were camping somewhere and would be back in a couple of days."

"Why did you drive off, Katherine?" Jarvis asked as he filled his mouth with noodles.

"I don't know I can only remember leaving in the car, and then I woke up in the hospital ready to go home."

"Do you not remember anything that happened in hospital?" Jarvis interrogated with noodles hanging between his lips.

Katherine looked confused, "no, why?"

"They found you with your skin hanging off, you were practically dead," he spoke with no emotional and sliced into the piece of beef on his plate.

"But... how..." Katherine placed her knife and fork down; she was left speechless. Her parents had not yet told her how severer her injuries were.

"Jarvis, stop it," their mother shouted at him.

"Why shout at me, I'm not to blame here am I, I didn't get myself into this situation did I," he replied.

"Jarvis!" Their father yelled.

"You two might what to lie to her, but I don't, I'm not going to sit here and play happy families while you pretend some doctor didn't die in front of her, and her skin somehow healed itself. That policeman practically told us Katherine was dead," Jarvis kept his head down and continued to feed himself with no concern for Katherine's feelings.

"What are you trying to say that I killed him?" Katherine raised her voice.

"No-one else was there," Jarvis shrugged his shoulders. Katherine stood up, knocked over her chair and ran upstairs to her room, slamming her door.

"Well done," their mother shouted at Jarvis.

"What," he looked back at her as if he has not done anything wrong. "I only told her what happened, it's not my fault if she takes things too seriously, you know I don't really think she killed that doctor."

"Perhaps you ought to tell your sister that?" his father replied.

"Let me finish these noodles, and I'll go up."

"Now Jarvis," his mother scorned.

Jarvis pulled a face. He left the table and headed upstairs to Katherine's room. He walked up to the door and knocked on it. "Hey, Katherine, let me in."

"Go away," a sobbing Katherine shouted back.

Ignoring her command, Jarvis walked into the bedroom and sat on the foot of the bed with Katherine crawled up clutching her bear. "Katherine, I didn't mean to upset you, I was only stating what had happened. I don't really think you killed him. It was just one of those freaky things that you read about on the internet. Hey, you never know, you could be asked to be on one of those television shows for the strangest deaths or something," he laughed.

Katherine slightly smiled, "Shut up."

"Oh, was that I smile I saw."

"It might have been," her smirk turned into a smile.

"Hey, why don't you come out with my friends and me this weekend it will make you forget about this whole incident."

"I don't know, there's no way mom and dad would let me especially after only just coming out of the hospital. Besides I don't even know your friends." Katherine sat up and brushed her hair back.

Jarvis sat closer towards her. "Don't worry I'll talk to mom and dad you know they won't be able to resist my charm," he made her laugh again, "and so what you don't know my friends. I'm sure you'll get to know them if you come out with me, you'll have way more in common than your own friends."

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Uptown all being well, perhaps go to a couple of pubs first."

"Uptown, how am I going to have more in common with your friends if they go uptown? In case you hadn't noticed that isn't exactly my scene."

"Yes, I had sis, most of my mates are rockers who just enjoy a bit of the old club scene occasionally, trust me you'll have a great time I promise," he winked at her.

"You promise."

"Hey, have I ever let you down," he shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, there was that once..."

"That was a rhetorical question, now, are you going to come back downstairs and finish your dinner."

"I suppose so just as long as you stop in here tonight. I don't want to be on my own."

"Sure, I'll grab my sleeping bag and sleep by the door to make sure no ghouls make it past me," smiling they both climbed off the bed and headed back downstairs.

After dinner, the whole family sat in front of the television, a couple of hours of mindless programs, Katherine decided to have a shower before she went to bed. She walked into the bathroom and opened the glass shower door. She turned the knob as far as it would reach, she always enjoyed a scolding hot shower. The steam quickly collected across the cream tiles along the walls.

Katherine undressed down to her underwear and sat on the toilet to brush her teeth. She rolled the tube of toothpaste to get out the last remains onto her brush. As she brushed, she felt a sharp pain in her gum and quickly pulled the brush away. The white bristles stained red with her blood. Katherine wiped away the steam from the mirror and pulled down her lip to reveal the bleeding gum. She took a handful of water from the tap and swilled her mouth out. When she spat out the water, the blood swirled in the basin around the drain. Katherine had to look twice as the blood appeared in the shape of the letter 'k'. She gasped and swiftly washed the blood away with her hand.

Katherine ignored the blood and took the rest of her clothes off. She climbed into the shower and closed the shower door, lured by the warmth of the water. She stood under the shower to allow the water to run down her body. Katherine was lost in complete tranquillity. Her body felt free with a feeling of peacefulness from the scalding water. She was unaware of how hot the water was. Steam had filled the whole room with little visibility remaining. Katherine stood motionless for a while before being distracted by the flicker of the light in the room. She lifted her head and placed her hand on the glass. For a moment, Katherine trembled, anything unusual spooked her. She wiped her hand across the glass, but nothing appeared within the steam, unafraid she closed her eyes and ran her hands through her hair.

A can of deodorant rolled along the sink and fell onto the floor. The sound took Katherine by surprise, and she was once again unnerved. Her eyes widened, she looked between the thickness of the steam, to her displeasure a fixed shadow appeared. With her hand over her mouth in distress, she whispered, 'go away', and closed her eyes for a moment. Once her eyes opened, the shadow had evaporated.

No longer wanting to stay in the shower, Katherine turned off the water, unsure if her delicate mind was playing tricks. She pulled a towel from the rail and wrapped it around her naked body. Katherine flicked her hair forward and squeezed clumps of her hair to drain the water. She opened the medicine cabinet and took a couple of pain killers for the headache she had suddenly developed. She took a sip of water from under the cold tap and swallowed the tablets. When she glanced into the mirror, all did not seem right. Her reflection did not move with her actions as she waved her hand back and forth.

"Something wrong," the reflection smirked.

Katherine's mouth fell wide open, she was stunned. She shook her head in the hope that she was dreaming.

"What's the matter, don't you recognise me?" it asked.

Katherine took a slow step backwards and made her way to the door and tried to force it open, but it would not budge despite shaking it vigorously.

"It's not going to open," the reflection laughed at her.

In defeat, Katherine stepped back to the mirror, "let me out of here now," she trembled. The fear in her eyes accepted who was speaking to her.

"Ah, so you acknowledge me, Katherine, did you really think it was all a dream. My dear girl, it is merely the beginning of something great."

Katherine had a sudden flashback of the recent events. Her friends brutally butchered by Katie and the beast. "You killed them," she scorned.

"No, Katherine, we released their souls together, and together, we shall wake this world from its slumber. Samael has found the Creature of Light."

"Creature of Light?" Katherine leant forward.

"She is the light to your darkness when you join together, I shall be free. Work with me, Katherine, and I shall give your soul safe passage," the face in the reflection became younger until the young Katie was talking.

"If she is the light to my darkness, then what does that make me?" Katherine asked.

"Why you are the Creature of Darkness," Katie's eyes darkened, she spoke with a menacing smile and began to laugh.

The laugh echoed throughout the room, the glass in the shower trembled. Bottles of shampoo danced across the shelves and fell to the floor. Katherine stepped back and placed her hands on her ears to escape the wicked laugh. She shouted at the mirror for Katie to leave. The room in the mirror darkened, behind Katie, her friends appeared. Their bodies bloodied and broken with pale skin. Together they spoke to Katherine, "join us." Katherine cried and stood against the wall; unsure what else she could do to escape the room. She slid to her feet and held her knees rocking back and forth, "go away" Katherine screamed.

There was a bang at the door, "Katherine, are you ok?" Jarvis worried.

Katherine looked up, and her reflection had returned, the voices had quietened, "Jarvis," Katherine replied.

"Katherine is everything ok in there, I could hear screaming," he attempted to open the door.

I'm fine Jarvis I just stubbed my toe that's all," Katherine grabbed the handle to prevent his entry.

"Are you sure, sounded a bit more than that?"

"Yes, Jarvis, I'm sure I'll be fine, just let me be."

"If you say so," not wanting an argument Jarvis left Katherine to it.

Katherine made it to her bedroom and sat on her bed to blow dry her hair. On the dressing table was a picture of her and Kevin together. She reached over and picked up the photo, no one had yet told her if Kevin have survived that night, there was only the car crash. She had spoken of the village, but the police had found no sign. She had hoped that Kevin was alive and the saga in the village was a bad dream, but deep down something was wrong, the voices in her head the demonic imagines, they all told her something sinister was out to get her. Katherine brushed her finger across the picture to try and imagine touching his face. A tear rolled down her cheek and onto the photo. She placed the photo on the bed and continued to dry her hair.

Katherine switched on the television. The news was reporting about the incident on the bridge with Dallas and the Police. She stopped drying her hair and watched the report for a moment. 'Police are believed to be hunting this man' a picture of Dallas was showed on the screen 'He is believed to very dangerous, do not approach him.' Katherine felt a strange sensation when she saw Dallas' face, she felt some sort of connection, perhaps it was in the last week for which she could not remember. She looked away, but his face became etched in her eyesight. Her headache returned. Unable to concentrate on drying the rest of her hair, she lay down. As her head touched her pillow, she was greeted with a blinding flash of light.

Katherine opened her eyes, and she was stood in her pyjamas outside the old house Katie had disappeared in. An innocent Katie skipped up and down from the front porch. Katherine attempted to shout, but she could not hear the sound of her own voice. She rubbed her throat and tried to yell again, but nothing came out. The bright blue sky above erupted into a fiery yellow and orange. A thunderous roar resonated, and a ball of light broke into the atmosphere. The light left a trail of dust behind it and slammed into the house. The shockwaves blew the house away and left a vast impact crater. Katie's scorched body lay on the floor with her hand still holding onto her unburned teddy bear.

Katherine was left untouched, she walked past Katie and along the crumbled path. She approached the crater and had to climb the small mound of torched soil. She peered over and saw an ample open space; piles of bricks and mortar lay burning. There was a wooden cabinet half buried with broken plates. In the centre of the crater, two emerald pillars stood.

Katherine carefully climbed into the crater but lost her balance, she rolled down towards the bottom coughing and covering her mouth from all the smoke. She jumped to her feet and slowly advanced to the pillars, she dared not touch them. The pillars sparked under the now night sky. She became seduced by the glory she saw in the light and reached out the touch one of the pillars. Her fingers stroked the pillar, and her body became sparked by magnificent energy she had not felt before. She placed her other hand of the other pillar and was exhausted by the power she could feel throughout her body. A warm breeze brushed past her from between the pillars, with no sign from where this breeze came from, she reached out. Her hand disappeared into the darkness as it passed through the pillars. The heat from within the darkness became unbearable, so she quickly pulled her hand back. It was covered in soot. Unusually she could see through the pillars, but each time she repeatedly placed her hand between the pillars, it vanished into the darkness. Letting curiosity get the best of her this time she took her whole body through the middle.

Katherine opened her eyes and found herself lying in bed. The quilt covered her naked body. She was confused as she had only laid down for a moment in her pyjamas. She looked over at the door and keeping to his word Jarvis was asleep in his sleeping bag. Katherine looked down to the side of her bed and saw her pyjamas. She quietly dressed. "Jarvis," she shouted.

Hearing her, he rolled around on the floor, doing his best to try and not wake up, grumbling to himself.

"Jarvis!" she repeated herself.

This time she woke him up, "what," he rubbed his squinted eyes.

"Who put me to bed last night?" Katherine asked.

"No one, you were already in bed when I came in. I tried to make as little noise possible so not to wake up, you were fast asleep."

"Oh, I must have drifted off, it must have been those painkillers."

Jarvis rolled over and fell back asleep. Katherine looked at her curtains and saw it was still dark outside. She lay back down and snuggled under her blankets, before long she fell back to sleep.

# Chapter 13

Dallas and Rebecca had been walking for several hours through the endless woodland. The rain had stopped, and the sun had come out for part of the late afternoon. It was close to setting, and visibility between the trees became difficult. Dallas saw a log cabin in the distance, he held Rebecca's hand and led her to shelter. The ground was moist, decaying leaves covered the land. The windows in the cabin were broken, and the door hung from one hinge.

"Be careful, Dallas," Rebecca saw a trail of tin foil and needles scattered near the doorway. The cabin was clearly a haven for drug users. "What if someone is in there?" Rebecca worried.

"Given how old those needles look, I would say who was ever here has long gone. The light is going, so we should stay here for the night, make sure we dry out." Dallas used his free hand to open the door. The floor creaked as a group of pigeons fluttered and vacated the cabin. Dallas ducked and knocked on the door; the hinges broke away from the door frame, and the door fell.

"Nice one," Rebecca laughed.

"Guess we had better hope there isn't a draft tonight," Dallas sarcastically replied. He searched the cabin for food and any supplies that might come in of use. He opens a small cupboard and finds some dry, dusty blankets, "these should keep you warm," he threw them at Rebecca.

"Thanks, I'll make the bed then," she smiled at Dallas.

Dallas continued his search and found a small portable heater next to a box of matches. He picked up the heater and brought it over to Rebecca, "hopefully, this should keep us warm." He turned the ignition switch, it clicked, but no spark was given off.

"Well done Dallas, you have found a broken heater," Rebecca mocked.

"Hang on for a moment," Dallas grabbed the box of matches from the cupboard, "one of these should do the trick. He opened the box and found three matches.

"Be careful not to waste them," she playfully pushed him.

Dallas picked the first match and struck it across the side of the box. Unfortunately, it snapped with his first attempt, "dammit," Dallas cursed. With the second he was careful not to break this one, with one brisk swoop the flame was lit. He placed his hand around the fire. "Let some of the gas out will you," Dallas asked.

Rebecca turned the knob and gas filled the heating chamber, Dallas went to place the match, but a sudden gust wind blew out the flame. "You have got to be kidding me," Rebecca chuckled. "Do you need me to light this one?"

"Calm yourself down little girl," Dallas taunted her, "just watch the gas, and I will get it lit this time." Without fail Dallas managed to light the match and ignite the heater. "Let there be heat," Dallas said pleased with himself.

"Now you have managed to light that thing come over here and cuddle me, I need to warm up," Rebecca opened the blanket to welcome in Dallas. He removed his damp shoes and lay next to Rebecca. She tucked in the blanket, and he embraced her. "Don't get any ideas Dallas, I'm wet, cold and tired," she stroked the side of his face.

"That's the last thing on my mind at the moment," he smiled and kissed her on the top of her head. "How are you, anyway?" Dallas politely asked.

"How am I?" Rebecca was confused by such a question.

"Yes, how are you? Over the last couple of days, I have turned your life upside down, and I have not asked you how you are feeling. I am honoured you have come with me this far, but by all means; you did not have to."

Rebecca turned around to face Dallas, "I know I did not have too, but I have always felt a connection with you, seeing those people come after you I cannot let you go at this alone."

"You are a special girl Rebecca, the lord has a special place for you, regardless of how you spend your evening," he smiled.

"Come on now Dallas, you can tell me the truth, all this talk of demons and you being the chosen one. I know they looked like a demon, but what is really happening Dallas?" Rebecca sat up.

"What do you mean," Dallas was puzzled. "Surely, it's clear to see who is chasing me."

"Dallas, I know what I saw, and there is no way these demons exist. I don't know if you are involved with some sort of gang or something but it's ok, I understand, religion has always alluded me. Sure, the bible is a nice story, but it is that just a story."

"Rebecca, I assure you those demons you have seen are very much that, they are not illusions from the drink or any drugs you may have taken."

"Hang on Dallas, I know I have been high many times we've met, but I assure you I haven't been high for several weeks," Rebecca was offended by the accusation.

"Then how else do you explain a bloody demon stood in front of you?"

"I honestly don't know, the light perhaps, or maybe they were wearing masked?"

"Rebecca, I assure you they are all too real, your mother would be proud of how you have handled yourself these last few days."

"My mother always told me that God was man's creation, a fictional character to provide answers to which man was too afraid to answer himself, a being to be the reason for one's success but also the reason for one's downfall."

"Your mother sounds like a smart lady."

Rebecca laughed, "my mother was bat shit crazy."

"Then, why listen to her?"

"My life has been nothing but hardship and misery, if there really was a God, then he has some explaining to do."

"All the Lord asks is that you face the challenges that are placed in front of you and learn from them, if life was easy then how would you learn the value of it." Rebecca kissed Dallas on the lips and bit his bottom lip, but Dallas pulled away, "I thought you said no funny business?"

"I did, but I was trying to shut you up," she stuck her tongue out. Rebecca rolled over and moved Dallas arm, so she could rest her head on it. "Let's try and get some sleep."

"Night, night," Dallas kissed her on the head and stroked her hair.

"I'm not a dog, Dallas," Rebecca joked.

Dallas snigged, "ok, Rebecca." It only took moments for Rebecca to fall asleep. Her heavy breathing, combined with the owls hooting amongst the trees, made it difficult for Dallas to sleep too. Instead, he lay awake with his eyes focused on the doorway in case they received unwanted guests. Small moths fluttered towards the light from the heater. Dallas watched as they fought to be nearest the light, with the winner getting to close and its wings were burned by the flame. Another danced over its ashes and kept its distance from the fire.

Dallas was greeted by another visitor, a grey squirrel leapt onto the window ledge. It rubbed its head and washed its paws. The squirrel scampered across the floor, scavenging for food. It found an empty can of food and buried its head inside. Dallas snapped his fingers and caught the attention of the squirrel. It stood up and stared at Dallas, "get out of here," Dallas whispered. The squirrel stood still refusing to leave, Dallas grinned at the gutsy animal.

The squirrel became spooked when it heard an engine in the distance. The sound caught the attention of Dallas. He looked to his side through the broken window and saw headlights reflect off the broken shards of glass in the window frame. For a moment it appeared to be a passing car, but tires came to a halt in the gravel, and the engine turned off. He could hear voices quietly, talking to each other.

"Hey, wake up," Dallas shook Rebecca.

"What's the matter," a groggy Rebecca replied.

"Some one's here, quickly we need to move," Dallas removed the blanket and blew out the heater. He ran over to the window and peered outside.

"What can you see," Rebecca rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms.

"I'm not sure, it's hard to make anything in this darkness," Dallas quickly ducked and held his finger to his lips, he signalled to Rebecca to stay down.

Leaves crunched as footsteps approached, "Dallas Mitchel," a man's voice shouted. Rebecca crawled to Dallas and put his arm around her shoulder for protection. "I know you are in there Dallas," the voice spoke again.

"How do they know we are here," Rebecca whispered to Dallas.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Dallas, I'm here to help," the footsteps stopped, and the person waited.

"What are we going to do," Rebecca pulled him for an answer, but Dallas was speechless, he felt cornered unable to think of a solution.

"I knew your father, Dallas."

Dallas stood to his feet and walked to the doorway. "Stay down," he ordered Rebecca. Dallas left the cabin and approached the voice. He placed his hands in the air, "how did you know my father?" he asked.

"Dallas, please you do not need to raise your arms, I am of no harm to you," the person laughed.

"How do I know that," Dallas shouted back.

"We have been watching over you for a long time," the person stepped closer. Dallas could not make out who he was in the dark.

"Watching over me..." Dallas smirked, "well you have been doing an awful job so far, in case you did not know half the city is after me."

"On the contrary Dallas, I could not come to you until the time was right," he stepped forward into the moonlight that broke between the trees. "My name is..."

"Philip Swain," Dallas interrupted. "I know who you are."

"Your father taught you well," Philip smiled and held his hand out to shake Dallas' hand.

Dallas looked at his hand and held back his, "you have been absent from this world for so long, how can I trust you? The world knows the disciples as leaders, but my father always referred to you as cowards who allowed the crucifixion."

"None of us has been absent, I have spent my time subbing as a history teacher. Others have taken roles within society, where they can share their knowledge and goodwill. Please come with me Dallas, you too Rebecca," he shouted toward the cabin.

Dallas was out of ideas, the only option was to trust Philip, "Rebecca, it's safe," he called out.

Rebecca cautiously left the cabin and walked to Dallas, she held his hand and stood close to him.

"It's an honour to meet you, Rebecca," Philip greeted her.

"What is it with old men and being honoured to meet me," she mocked Philip.

"Rebecca," Dallas disapproved.

"Do not be concerned Dallas, I understand her wariness. I have a car waiting for us, it will take you to my come, there you will find warm clothes and hot showers. Together we can work out what we are going to do next with you."

Dallas and Rebecca followed Philip to the car. A driver dressed in a black suit was standing near the back door. Rebecca was amazed at the car, waiting for them. A wealthy limousine unlike any she had travelled in before. Its clear black coating reflected the night sky and its polished alloy wheels shone under the moonlight. The driver held the door open for the pair of them to enter the limo. They both sat on the back seat and Philip joined them on the seat opposite.

"Both of you relax, we have a long drive ahead of us. Sleep if you must, we can discuss things shortly," Philip turned to his driver and signalled to drive. He started the engine and drove away from the cabin.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Rebecca smirked at Dallas as she lay her head on his lap.

# Chapter 14

In the sweltering heat, an old rusty car drove along the highway. Behind the wheel sat Alick in his black suit with his vicars' collar around his neck. The windows did not work, and with no air conditioning, he had to make do with a small portable fan he hung from the rear-view mirror. The dashboard was scattered with dust and the window screen covered with dirt. The washers or window wipers did not work either, the car had seen better says.

He exhaled with the heat and waved a piece of card in his face to relieve himself from the sun's gaze. Alick had been driving for several hours as he drove towards the outskirts of the city. Away from the high-rise apartments and busy highways, Alick found himself driving through a deserted wasteland. In the distance, he saw his destination, an abandoned caravan park, except for one caravan. He turned off the road and drove underneath a rusty welcome sign. The static caravans were either burnt out or smashed. Foxes used one of the trailers as a home. The mother dragged a smaller animal with its teeth and took it inside to feed its cubs.

Alick pulled up outside the only habitable caravan, the paint had fractured under the sun's warmth. He turned the engine off and climbed out of the car. He opened the back door and picked up his briefcase from the back seat. A child's screams came from inside the caravan. The metal blinds in the window moved, Alick had been spotted. The door opened, and a skinny young woman walked out. She barely had any muscle or fat on her, and her hand shook as she held onto a burning cigarette. She placed the cigarette in her mouth and put her short scruffy hair into a bob.

"Hello, father," she greeted Alick.

"Good afternoon, Jennifer," Alick walked to her and hugged her frail body, "how is she doing?" he asked.

"Rebecca is getting worse every day, she speaks in a language I have never heard, she is aggressive and abusive, this morning I had to restrain her, the outbursts have gotten worse," Jennifer trembled.

"And, how are you?"

"Coping, you know me a bottle of vodka, and I can get through anything," she joked. "I think it is time Alick, you must clear her body of this demon before it takes her."

"If you are sure, Jennifer?" Alick tried to reassure himself that whatever he did would be best for Rebecca and for Jennifer.

"She is wasting away, she does not eat nor drink, she spends all night cursing," Jennifer helped Alick into her home. There was not much inside. The sink was full of dirty dishes, the carpet was littered with cigarette stubs and empty vodka bottles. Layers of blankets were tossed across the couch. There was a small portable television in the corner of the room with barely a picture on it. Another scream came from the bedroom.

"I take it she is in there," Alick rhetorically asked. He placed down his briefcase on the sticky kitchen counter and pulled out his bible and cross.

"I'll leave you to it," Jennifer grabbed a half-empty bottle and sat outside.

Alick had to duck to enter the bedroom. Despite the warmth outside, he walked into a room frozen by the cold brought on by the evil spirits embodied within a five-year-old Rebecca. The room was tiny, the double bed reached either side of the room, and an empty wardrobe stood opposite. There was a small table in the corner Alick rested his bible on. The blinds were shut so no sunlight could enter. Rebecca's arms and legs were tied to the bed. Her nightgown was infested with dirt and blood.

"Nice to see you again," Rebecca raised her head and spoke with a deep male's voice. Her face was bruised, and her eyes rolled back.

"I wish I could say the same for you," he replied. From out of his pocket, he opened a small glass vessel of water, he sprinkled it on the bed and threw droplets over Rebecca. She wriggled in anger and screamed in pain as the liquid burned her skin.

"Why do you insist on causing pain to this delicate little girl," Rebecca frowned.

"It is not I that causes her pain, leave her body now, and I will spare your soul," he picked up the bible and stood over her.

Rebecca spat at Alick, "do your worst your seedy old man, I see the way you look at me. Like the rest of them, any girl is game," she grinned with a mischievous smile.

Alick ignored her taunts, he knew the evil spirit would say anything to distract him, he opened the bible to extra written pages at the rear, "In the name of Lord Jesus Christ, strengthened by the intercession of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, Mother of God, and powerful in the holy authority of our ministry, we confidently undertake to repulse..."

"Mary was nothing more than a charlatan, a whore," she interrupted.

"Repulse the attacks and deceits of the devil," Alick continued unfazed. He threw more droplets of holy water on Rebecca, she screamed out in her childlike voice. The windows trembled, and the caravan shook. "We drive you from us, whoever you may be, unclean spirits, all satanic powers, all infernal invaders, all wicked legions." Alick held a heavy golden cross from his pocket. He placed it on Rebecca's chest.

"Fuck you," Rebecca spoke in the deepest voice yet, the weight of the cross prevented her movement, she continued to curse and growl.

"Behold the Cross of the Lord, flee bands of enemies. In the name and by the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, may you be snatched away and driven from the Church of God and from those souls who behold the image of God."

The sunlight vanished from outside and Alick behind drenched in darkness. The caravan broke in two, and the other half fell into a cavern. The fire erupted from the cavern; the molten rock was thrown into the air. The roof of the caravan ripped off and flew into the darkness above. Alick could hear the groans of a thousand corpses, their rotten arms reached over the walls.

"They are coming for you," Rebecca smiled.

Alick closed his eyes to avoid the distraction of Rebecca's nightmare, "begone, Legion, inventor and master of all deceit, the enemy of man's salvation." Alick threw more water. Each time a droplet hit Rebecca the groans worsened; the corpse's arms panicked as their skin began to burn. "O Lord hear my prayer, and let my cry come into thee. From the snares of Legion, deliver us O Lord. That we beseech this wicked spirit, and to grant us thy protection to keep us safe and sound." Alick used a small pocketknife to cut his thumb, he placed his bloodied thumb on Rebecca's forehead. "The Mother of God compels you fiend spirit, be gone," Alick held her down.

Rebecca rolled in pain, steam evaporated from her body, she yelled with a deafening scream. "You cannot make me leave this soul," Rebecca yelled in her deep voice.

"The Mother of God compels you," Alick repeated himself several times.

After repeating the same phrase five times, Rebecca's body lay motionless and complete darkness surrounded them. Rebecca's chest then rose, her mouth opened, and a dark spirit rose from out her mouth. A demon's face appeared before Alick.

"Amen," Alick spoke. With his words, the spirit screamed and swirled into nothing, it vanished. Daylight reappeared, and the caravan returned.

"Alick," Rebecca had returned, and the scared little girl called out for him.

He untied the restraints from around her wrists and ankles, she immediately jumped up and hugged him.

"Thank you," she cried.

"You need not thank me, child, I am merely glad that you are ok," he embraced her back. "Do you have some clothes to change into, we must leave immediately." Alick did not have time to check if she was ok physically, for he knew they would soon be welcomed by other unholy guests.

"Where are we going?" Rebecca asked.

"I must take you as far away from here as I can, you are not safe, I will inform your mother while you dress," Alick left Rebecca to it and walked outside. "Jennifer..." Alick froze for a moment.

The walls outside the caravan were drenched in blood, a trail of dirt led away from the doorstep as if someone had been dragged. Alick looked towards his car almost blinded by the sun, with his hands above his eyes he managed to see where the trail led to. Behind Alick's car stood a crucifix, nailed to it was Jennifer, she was stripped naked releveling her skinny bruised body. 'Legion' had been clawed into her chest and a crown of thorns pierced her head.

"Alick, I'm ready," Rebecca walked to the door.

"No, stay inside!" he shouted.

"What's wrong," she worried.

"Just stay inside for a moment, and I will come and get you," the crucified Jennifer was not whom he was concerned with, it was the image behind her. Amongst the shimmer from the scorching ground, Samael slowly walked towards them. Stream rose from his serpent-like skin. Alick ran to his car and tried to start it, but the engine refused to tick over. "Dammit," he punched the dashboard and ran back to the caravan. "Rebecca, where does your mother keep the keys to her car?" In a panic, he searched through the trailer.

"I'm not sure she never tells me anything, what's wrong Alick," Rebecca became tearful by Alick's frantic behaviour.

Alick opened cupboards and threw cartons of food and dishes in search of the keys. From a drawer crammed with papers, he found the key, "got it," he joyful remarked. "Rebecca, I want you to climb out the window and get into your mother's car, keep your head down and wait for me. Whatever you do, do not look up."

"Where is, mother?"

"I will explain everything to you in a moment, just do as I say," Alick opened the window to the rear and helped Rebecca escape, "remember whatever you do, do not look up," he released her hand and closed the window behind her. Alick went back outside, by this point Samael had approached.

"Good afternoon, father," Samael growled.

"Hello Samael, it has been a while," Alick tried to keep calm.

"Yes, it has," Samael walked around the car and body of Jennifer, "I'm afraid I am not responsible for this work of art, that would be the at the hands of our lovely Katie, but I'm sure you were already aware of that. As for the Baltic Sea, I have not forgotten what you and your son did to me."

"It has certainly taken you a while to find me Samael," Alick smirked.

"I had other prior engagements to attend to, I always knew where you and your son were hiding, it was only a matter of time before I came. Tell me, has Dallas' realised who he is yet?" Samael stepped closer to Alick.

"Dallas' time will come," he reached into his jacket and pulled out his bible.

"Ha the book of sin, what do you intend to do with that, lecture me to death," Samael laughed.

Alick opened the bible, "The God of my rock, in him I trust, he is my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my high tower, and my refuge, my saviour, thou savest me from violence." He closed the book and closed his eyes for a moment.

Samael grimaced and reached out to Alick. His hand curled up and burned by an invisible force. "Son of a bitch," he cried out.

"With the Lord's protection, evil spirits shall not pass," Alick glared at Samael and called out, "be gone!" A powerful force was released and threw Samael high into the air. He was unable to control his movement and landed along the ground into a ditch. With Samael momentarily disabled Alick used this a chance to escape, he placed his bible back within his coat, but it unknowingly fell to the floor. He ran around the caravan and found Jennifer's car. The driver's door was unlocked, and he quickly jumped inside.

Rebecca glanced up, "is everything ok," she asked.

"Almost, just keep your head down and don't move," Alick started the engine and wheel span as he drove away back into the city.

"Get up!" Katie shouted and kicked dust in Samael's face.

He winced and opened his eyes, "do you mind."

"Do I mind?" Katie angrily replied, "of course I fucking mind, you have let that pathetic preacher leave with the whore."

"They will not have gone far, calm yourself down," Samael wiped the dust from his face.

Katie crouched down, the colour in her skin faded, he eyes rolled black, and with her nail less hands, she grabbed him by the throat. His warm serpent skin quickly froze with her touch. With a look, Samael had not seen before Katie stared at him with her soulless scowl and uttered only two words, "find them!"

The look alone was enough to bring Samael to his feet. He stepped out from the ditched and opened his wings. He took to the sky in search of his prey, he dared not turn and face the evil within Katie's stare.

Away from the wasteland, Alick had driven into the city. The rush hour traffic had started, and Alick was sat in the midst of it with Rebecca asleep behind him. Window wipers threw the rain away from the window screen. Other road users beeped their horns aggressively to no avail, the traffic was at a standstill. "Come on move, goddamit," Alick slammed his hand against the steering wheel.

"Alick, why aren't we moving," Rebecca woke.

"Because every idiot here has forgotten how to bloody drive," Alick said in frustration.

A shadow flew past and engulfed them in darkness, it was soon followed by a deep harrowing roar. They both knew Samael had found them. Alick turned to Rebecca, "we need to get out," he stalled the car and climbed out into the rain. He opened Rebecca's door and pulled her out.

"Where are you taking me," she cried out, exhausted from her journey.

"Please Rebecca, not now," Alick dragged her to the pathway and through the crowds of people. She tried to break free from his grip, but he refused to let her go.

"Let me go!" she yelled.

A man stopped next to Rebecca and placed his hand on Alick's shoulder, "is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine," Alick moved the man's hand from his shoulder.

"Little girl are you ok," the man crouched toward Rebecca.

"I said everything is fine," Alick repeated himself. The shadow flew past once more, followed by screams. The man's attention was caught by the disturbance and Alick used this opportunity, he swung his fist and punch the man to the ground.

"Samael," Alick whispered to himself.

"Alick..." Rebecca worriedly held Alick's hand.

"Quickly," with Rebecca's hand, Alick ran between the crowd the away from Samael. Bodies were thrown across the street and into oncoming traffic. The group around Alick picked up on the disturbance and became enthralled with panic. Others joined Alick in the running from Samael. An unfortunate old woman lost her balance and fell to the ground, in the ensuing panic no one realised, and she was trampled on. Rebecca saw her distressed face covered in blood. The screams of people were now met with the sound of police sirens, Alick could not allow himself to be caught. He saw a subway entrance and left the hurried crowd.

Alick swiftly made his way down the steps and into the poorly lit subway. The crowds of people had soon disappeared with the last train to leave. There was an eerily silence with the stench of sulphur in the air. 'Katie' was graffitied on the walls. Rats scurried along the walls feeding on the rubbish that had been thrown. Alick slowed down and carefully navigated the cold tunnels towards the platform. They walked down the broken escalator as the lights flickered with the platform near the bottom. Rebecca kept close to Alick scared by her surroundings.

On the platform, a few passengers were awaiting the next train. Rebecca glanced at the people and was terrified. They all stood silently facing the track, their eyes socket less, skin pale and no mouth or nose. The male passengers were dressed in a black latex suit, each with a bouquet of black roses in their left hand and a top hat. The women dressed in a long tight latex black dress with a black veil over their face.

"What's going on," Rebecca murmured.

"She is playing with your minds, just ignore the trickery and only do as I say," Alick silently walked between the people, he did his best to avoid eye contact.

The passenger's feet remained glued to the platform, but their fingers twitched, unsettling though each of their fingers twitched at the same time. Their neck's jerked, and the latex outfits squeaked awkwardly. Beneath the mouthless jaw, each person occasionally groaned. Alick stepped side to side and moved his body to avoid contact with creepy beings. Rebecca tried to keep her eyes closed as much as possible, she had never seen such people. A gust of warm air emerged from the dark tunnel at the end of the platform, this was followed by a train siren. All the people took on a step forward, the sound of their footsteps echoed, and grains of dust fell from the ceiling. Lights appeared, and a train rushed past, there was no driver. Alick expected the train to stop, but it continued. At least a hundred carriages hurried past before he released who was on board the train. In each carriage behind each window, he saw himself, a reflection of himself from the moment he first met Kaite. Next to him, holding his hand was Kaite. The reflections mimicked his and Rebecca's actions.

"Alick," one of the passenger's whispered as her lips broke free from their mask. Her head turned to him, and feet broke free from their hold. Her mouth opened wide, dark blood seeped out from between her discoloured teeth, and she let out a repulsive cry.

The last carriage left into the darkness, and with it, the cry from the woman silenced. The other passengers were now released, and all turned to Alick, the sound of their latex clothes made Rebecca squirm. She screamed as the nearest passenger reached out and grabbed Rebecca's arm. Alick was quick to react and punched the passenger and pushed him away. He picked up Rebecca and threw her over his shoulder. She covered her eyes with her hands. Alick shoved the others away and quickly made his way to the end of the platform.

"Jump onto the track," he ordered.

"But what if there's another train?" Rebecca was reluctant to jump down.

"We can hide within parts of the tunnel if a train comes, but at the moment we don't have much choice," Alick was more forceful with Rebecca. He jumped down first and held his arms out to help Rebecca down onto the track. The passengers queued up at the edge of the platform unable to jump down, they all held one arm out and pointed at Alick. The lights on the platform switch off, and bright eyes appeared on their faces. Alick ignored them and ran with Rebecca into the tunnel. There were rectangles lights along the wall, which provided just enough light to navigate through.

The strong scent of sulphur intensified. Smoke swept between their feet. There was a dull orange glow in the distance in the tunnel. Alick paused for a moment and turned to Rebecca. "I want you to hide behind one of these pillars. Stay as silent as you can and do not move, I will come back for you."

"Where are you going," cried Rebecca.

The lights from the platform returned. There were sounds of police searching the platform.

"To ensure your safety I must continue forward, it is too dangerous for you to come with me," Alick kissed Rebecca on the forehead, "if they come for you, do not put up a fight you will find sanctuary," Alick nodded towards the police, it was only a matter of time before they realised where Alick was.

Rebecca reluctantly left Alick and found a nearby pillar. She swept the dirty floor the best she could and crouched down to rest against the wall. She closed her eyes and rested her head between her legs, ignoring the many rats hurrying around her, escaping the danger approaching Alick.

Alick left Rebecca and walked closer to the orange glow. From behind his back, he pulled out a katana sword. The light sparkled against the silver blade. He gripped the golden handle engraved with angel wings. He dragged the blade against the rails which left an echoing sound. With his other hand, he rubbed the cross around his necked, "take my sacrifice and protect this child." A pulse of energy was released behind Alick.

"Is it time," Samael's voice appears from within a silhouette within the orange glow.

"Indeed, it is, this time I shall not walk away..." Alick lifted his sword, "this time you shall not walk away," he placed both hands around the handle.

"Ha, my dear Alick I am too strong for you as I have repeatedly told you, eventually your good fortune will run out, and you shall feel the pain from my blade. And once I have taken care of you, I shall take the soul from Dallas," Samael reached for his sword.

"My son is too smart, he will never fall to your blade," Alick approached closer and closer.

"He is no son of yours, that boy is nothing more than a bastard child, I will do to him what generations have failed to do to Yahweh's followers. But before I can do that you must die," Samael's eyes widened with a frightening smile. He ran at Alick with his blade aimed at Alick's heart. In the darkness, Alick saw Samael's attack and countered his move with his sword. They exchanged swipes at each other, both missing their intended target.

Samael snarled as he failed to leave any mark on Alick. They paused for a moment to understand their next move. Alick struck out at Samael but was met with his sword. They were at a stalemate, neither could outwit the other. The flashlights from the ensuing policemen distracted Samael, Alick was able to use this to his advantage and caught Samael with a clean cut across his chest.

"Ahh!" Samael roared out in pain.

Alick caught Samael again, this time his sword sliced through his side. Alick could feel the momentum swing in his favour, that was until he slipped on the track and lost his balance. Samael quickly composed himself pieced Alick in the gut. Unlike Samael, Alick was unable to take the pain, his mortal body became embraced in agony. Samael rose over Alick and kicked him to the floor. With Alick disabled Samael walked to Rebecca, but he was met by another invisible force unable to walk down the tunnel near to Rebecca. He watched as the police found her and took her away.

Samael frowned and turned back to Alick. He grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back, "she cannot escape me forever, I will find her."

"Other's will watch over her, they will ensure she does not come into the path of the likes of you, you cannot win Samael," Alick coughed blood.

"I may have not won this time, but you have certainly lost. Before I take your soul, I want your last breathing moment to remember that the last thing your son and that little whole will experience is my stinking breath as I slice their bodies in two. Goodbye Alick," with his sword Samael cut across Alick's throat, allowing the blood to escape his body. Almost motionless Samael ripped his head from his shoulders and kicked his body to the ground. Samael left the body and walked toward the orange glow with Alick's head in his grasp.

As Rebecca was escorted away by the police, she managed to get one last look toward Alick. To her horror, she saw Samael kick away Alick's headless body. She had never felt so alone, unsure of what would happen next. A policeman placed a blanket around her and carried up the stairs back to the outside.

# Chapter 15

Rebecca opened her eyes and immediately sat up, dazed and confused. She wiped her hazy eyes and caught her breath.

"You have a bad dream," Dallas comforted Rebecca.

"Erm, kind of," she replied, with her senses returning, Rebecca realised where she was. In the back seat of Philips limousine, she looked out the tinted windows and could only see green fields under the orange and red evening sky.

Philip poured a glass of water from a crystal bottle, "here, have a drink."

"Thank you," she took the glass from Philip and drank the water. "How can it be the evening already, I thought we had set off in the night? How long have we been driving?"

"To ensure your safety, we have had to drive far away from the city. We are almost at my home; there you will be able to make yourself comfortable."

The car travelled over an old stone bridge across a wide river. The road became bumpy as the tyres crunched against loose stones and sizeable lush fern trees lined up either side. The limo slowed down and came to a halt outside black painted iron gates. A buzzer sounded, and the gates gradually opened, either side a tall brick wall surrounded the grounds.

"You're telling me you live here?" Rebecca was surprised by the size of the land. Within the grounds she saw large marble fountains, hedges cut into various creatures. There were stables and in the middle of it all a huge stately house. The stone building was three stories tall and at least a hundred meters long.

"While this is my home, I spent a lot of the time travelling. It is more of a home to my housemaid, then it is to me," Philip laughed.

"So is this it, we camp up here until what, it all blows over," while Rebecca was impressed with her surroundings, she disliked the lack of direction.

"Rebecca, just enjoy this moment, given the last few days, I think we could do with a little rest," Dallas calmed Rebecca.

"By all means have a rest when we arrive, but this evening I have festivities planned. Many guests will be attending to celebrate both of your safe return to us, Rebecca," Philip finished as the car parked in front of the house. Before either of them could respond, the door was opened, and a well-dressed man let them out of the vehicle.

"Good evening, madam," the man helped Rebecca out of the car. She paused and looked around at the extravagant surroundings. The man walked up to the stone steps and opened the oak front doors.

"If there's a party here later what exactly do you expect me to wear," Rebecca smiled.

"All taken care of my dear, in your rooms, you will both find evening attire laid out on your bed and in the wardrobe a selection of clothes for your stay here," Philip linked arms with Rebecca and escorted her into the house.

Inside it was even more lavish than the outside. A crystal chandelier hung from the tall ceiling, where a sizeable biblical picture was painted. The walls were littered with various old paintings within large golden frames. A Persian rug lay across the marble floor. In the centre of the room, a large staircase split into two to either side of the house.

"So where are the others?" Dallas asked as he entered the house.

"As I mentioned Dallas, we have a party tonight, as Rebecca so kindly put it. They are happy to wait until then to meet you both."

"Okay," Dallas said with a suspicious tone. "For a man of God, you certainly have looked after yourself."

"Dallas there is no need for any hostility, all intentions towards yourself and Rebecca are good. Many years ago, we promised Yeshua that we would take care of the pair of you."

"Many years ago?" Dallas laughed. "Yeshua was put to the cross two thousand years ago, a spiritual man he was, but the ability to foresee mine and Rebecca existence I think not."

"Dallas, please, let's not do this now. Have my man escort you to your rooms and join me for dinner once our guests arrive," Philip looked at one of the servants who led Dallas and Rebecca upstairs.

Rebecca was the first to arrive at her room, "I'll guess I will see you downstairs," she kissed Dallas on the cheek as the servant unlocked her room. She walked inside and was quickly astonished. It was easily the most beautiful room Rebecca would sleep in. She took her shoes off and rolled her toes in the thick maroon carpet. Similar lavish paintings hung from the wall with a golden dressing table against the back wall. There was a four-poster bed in the middle with a long blue silk dress laid out. Rebecca picked up the dress and held it up against herself, she wondered over to the floor length mirror in the corner and swayed from side to side. Even with the dress held up against her, Rebecca felt more elegant than when in her usual short red dress. Happy with the dress, she lay it back on the bed and headed for a shower.

Dallas was not as impressed with his room; he had no emotion toward expensive belongings. Instead, he immediately walked over to the bed and fell face first onto the mattress, within a split second he had fallen asleep.

Asleep once more, Dallas found himself in another dream. He floated in darkness underwater, despite the lack of oxygen he could still breathe. There was a small sparkle of white light in front of him, Dallas attempted to touch the light, but his hand passed through. He looked at his palm and his hand dissolved into plasma; it did not detach from his body but moved with him. Katie's scream echoed underwater. He turned around but could see no one. Each time he struggled; another part of his body would dissolve.

The white light fell below him and illuminated a room below. He could see Rebecca showering. Dallas called out, but no sound escaped his mouth. She washed undisturbed. The door to the bathroom opened and in walked the adult Katie. Her skin was pale, covered in cuts and bruises. She wore a tattered white dress which she threw to the bathroom floor. Katie pulled open the shower curtain and looked up to Dallas with a vengeful smile. Dallas shouted again to no avail. Katie stepped into the shower and picked up a soapy sponge from the floor. She lathered Rebecca's body with soap and caressed her. Rebecca lent her head backwards and groaned. Katie used her nails and rolled her fingers along Rebecca's arm. Her skin peeled away under each nail. Rebecca did not flinch at the skin falling from her body. Katie looked up again at Dallas. She smirked as she moved her hand between Rebecca's legs. Rebecca quivered and held the water pipe on the wall.

Dallas shook his head and silently screamed. There was a loud bang that sent shockwaves through the water. The image in front of Dallas shattered and he was once again surrounded in darkness. The bang repeated three or four times.

"Mr Dallas, sir," the knock was followed by a voice.

Dallas opened his eyes, and he was back in his room face down on the bed. He sat up and heard the servant again, "give me a moment," Dallas called out. He climbed up from the bed and stumbled to the door. "Yes," Dallas opened the door.

"Sir, you are late, the guests are waiting," the servant pushed past Dallas and entered the room. "Quickly have yourself a wash, and I will arrange your clothes. Within minutes the servant ensured Dallas was dressed in his dinner suit.

Dallas left the room and walked down the stairs and into the main hall. There were hundreds of guests all dressed in dinner suits or long colourful dresses. In the corner of the room, a man playing music on his cello and a woman on her violin. Some of the guests danced to the music others gathered and talked with glasses of wine in their hands. Dallas looked around the room and saw Rebecca talking to Philip and some other guests. He was amazed at how beautiful and elegant she looked. Gone was her cheap sexy look replaced by this sharp, sophisticated woman. Her hair curled, makeup classy, and the dress left her looking like a princess. Rebecca laughed and spotted Dallas.

"Dallas," Rebecca rushed over to Dallas and hugged his arm, "Isn't this place amazing, my room is huge. The people here are so nice, and not to mention the free wine," she laughed.

"I see you're having a good time," Dallas chuckled and kissed her on the forehead.

Rebecca grabbed a glass of wine from one of the servants and handed it to Dallas, "get this down your neck and enjoy yourself."

Dallas took the drink and walked with Rebecca, "good evening Philip," Dallas nodded.

"Good evening Dallas, I'm so glad you managed to join us," Philip mocked the lateness of Dallas' arrival. "Let me introduce you to a couple of my guests. These two are Andrew and John."

"Hello Dallas," Andrew shook Dallas' hand.

"Andrew, John," Dallas welcomed both, "and where are the other disciples."

"They are around," Andrew replied.

"Dallas take Rebecca and have a dance; we can talk later. Please enjoy yourselves," Philip ordered.

"Come on, Dallas," Rebecca grabbed his hand and escorted him to the dance floor.

With Dallas gone, Andrew turned to Philip, "have they realised Rebecca's importance to the manuscript yet?" he asked.

"Not yet, Dallas does not even know his true self, so the likely hood of him realising Rebecca's true self is highly unlikely," Philip replied as he drank from his wine glass.

"It's a pity we cannot just tell them," Andrew expressed with frustration.

"You know the score Andrew, tomorrow we leave with Dallas, and in a few days, all will be revealed when he enters Jericho's Ministry. My brother, just be patient."

Dallas held Rebecca in his arms and the closed danced together. The cellist played a slow, soft song for them to dance to. They looked lovingly in each other's eyes. Rebecca smiled and rested her arms around his shoulders. Another couple waltz around them. Dallas was put off by the flickering chandelier above them along with a cold gust of wind between his legs. Dallas looked past Rebecca into the crowds surrounding the dance floor. He saw Katie dance between the guests, in her tattered white dress holding her teddy bear. Her small childlike presence was only sensed by Dallas. She silently sang to herself.

"What's the matter," Rebecca caught Dallas' attention.

"Sorry I thought I saw someone," he tried to ignore the distraction of Katie.

"Anyone I should be worried about," Rebecca joked.

"No, nothing to be concerned with," Dallas smiled. There was a tug at Dallas' leg, but he paid no attention to her, Katie was stood next to Dallas.

"Look at me, Dallas," Katie angrily moaned. She pulled again at his trouser leg, "Dallas," she cried, "please Dallas. He's going to hurt me."

Dallas leant into Rebecca and kissed her on her lips.

"Don't ignore me Dallas, that harlot is no good for you, her lips are rotten," Katie circled the pair of them. "Dallas, she's not yours to keep, I will take her." She stepped back from him and screamed. The ground shook, and the lights flickered, but no guest was disturbed by Katie's actions.

Dallas turned his head, "be gone," he whispered. Within a moment, Katie's body evaporated into dust and was quickly swept away by other guests dancing their way past Dallas.

The music had finished, and Philip made his way to the middle of the room. He gently tapped a key against his glass to gain everyone's attention. "Thank you, everyone, for joining me tonight on this beautiful evening. I won't keep you long. As you are all aware, Damien walks among us and with him the days of reckoning are near. However, the time has come for the reading of the manuscript, something our friend Dallas will soon learn," Philip held his glass toward Dallas. The crowd joined Philip and toasted Dallas, they waited for him to respond.

Rebecca nudged him, "Yes, thank you all," Dallas awkwardly replied.

"Don't worry, Dallas I'll let you enjoy your evening," Philip laughed, "dinner is served." Servants opened the double doors to the side of the room to reveal a long hall aligned with tables.

The guests entered the dining hall and took their seats. The long tables were dressed in blue patterned cloth, silver candles stick burned along the tables. Plates of food were scattered across the room, bowls of various salads, olives, rice, roast chicken and pork. Philip took Dallas and Rebecca to the top table where they both sat. Other servants filled their glasses with wine.

"Dallas this is amazing, just look at the food," Rebecca felt spoilt.

"Do not be shy, Rebecca, fill your plate," Philip spoke behind her.

"Thank you again, Philip, all of this is beyond anything I could have imagined," she turned around and held his hand in appreciation.

"My pleasure," Philip accepted her gratitude and took his seat next to Dallas.

They had been eating for an hour when a withering old man approached Philip, "may I have your ear for a moment?" he asked.

"Certainly brother," Philip replied, "but first let me introduce you, Dallas. This is Bartholomew."

"How do you do," Dallas welcomed Bartholomew, "you seem a lot older than the others."

"We all age differently," Bartholomew kept his reply short, "Philip, may I," he turned from Dallas and walked away with Philip.

"What is so important that it cannot wait till later," Philip bluntly spoke.

"We have word that Samael is aware of the Church and has every intention of meeting us there."

"You stress too much," he shrugged off his concern.

"Philip are you not hearing me, if Samael gets to the church before we do, he will discover Dallas, he will unravel Dallas' state of mind. We must leave immediately; I have arranged transport to take you all from here to the shipyard."

Philip stayed quiet while he collected his thoughts, "the church has remained a secret amongst our brotherhood for many years since the fall of Peter and Judas we have all stood by our oath to Yeshua."

"We must not question the faith of our brothers Philip, act now, and we can deal with Samael before he becomes a bigger issue."

"Very well, let Andrew, James and John know that we move tonight, the others will stay and care for Rebecca. Bartholomew, you must ensure she comes to no harm, once we have taken Dallas to the church you must bring her to us, the passage will then be clear," Philip let him leave and returned to Dallas.

"Everything alright?" Dallas asked.

"I cannot explain at this time, but I must ask that you trust me. Something has come up, which means we have to start our journey tonight," Philip grabbed a drink.

"Tonight..." Dallas paused.

"I know I promised you rest, but if we do not leave tonight, then you and Rebecca will be in more danger than you already are."

"I don't question your honest, Philip, I just wanted to sit back and have a drink," Dallas laughed.

"I will let you finish your drink, but then you must say goodbye to Rebecca."

"Say goodbye!" Dallas slammed his drink on the table, "I have spent the last few days avoiding almost certain death protecting Rebecca only to leave her behind. If I leave, she leaves with me," Dallas glared at Philip.

"Dallas I will not argue with you, Rebecca must stay here, the road ahead is too dangerous for her. You must take your journey without her when we reach the end, you will soon realise why. Now finish your drink, and I will meet you outside," Philip stood from his seat and walked over to Rebecca, "my dear, it has been a pleasure to meet you. Unfortunately, I must leave. I'm sure we will see each other again," he took her hand and gently kissed it.

"It's been nice meeting you too," Rebecca smiled back as Philip left the room. Others stood and followed him. "What's going on?" she asked Dallas.

Dallas took a long sip from his glass, he tried to avoid answering for as long as possible. He knew how scared she would be once he told her of his impending departure. "Rebecca, don't be upset or afraid but..."

"But what Dallas," Rebecca became hostile. She had been let down many times in recent years, and despite Dallas' kindness, she always expected him to one day disappoint her.

"I must leave immediately with Philip; I cannot tell you why as I do not know. But believe me when I say I will return for you," Dallas grabbed both her hands.

"You drag me across the city changed by all sorts of monsters only to leave me," she became upset.

"Rebecca, look around, you will be safe here. There are people here who will not let anything happen to you," he softly rubbed her cheek and kissed her on her lips.

There was no arguing with Dallas, Rebecca knew she had to trust him and trust those around her, "you bet your ass you're coming back for me," she kissed him back with a smile.

"They are waiting for you sir," Bartholomew tapped Dallas on the shoulder.

Dallas kissed Rebecca on the forehead and placed his hands affectionally around her face, "I love you," he gazed into her eyes. She lovingly smiled, and tears filled her eyes, she was speechless as he left the room.

"May I," Bartholomew waiting for Rebecca's invite to be seated.

"Yes, you may," she dried her eyes and made sure she enjoyed the rest of her evening.

Dallas joined Philip in the foyer. Alongside Philip were Andrew and John, who would join them on their journey. "Sir, the helicopter is ready," Philip's driver opened the front door.

"Let our journey commence," Philip held his arm out to the others.

"Are we not going to change," Dallas was the last to leave.

"All in good time Dallas, once we arrive at the harbour, I will have another change of clothes for you," Philip escorted Dallas to the helicopter.

In the darkness away from the floodlights, a luxury black helicopter sat silently on a helipad. The driver held the passenger doors open for them to climb inside. Dallas was not surprised by the expensive leather seats inside, just like his house the helicopter was draped inexpensive gear. Dallas sat opposite Philip and put on his earphones. The pilot climbed in an started the engines. It took a moment, but before long, the helicopter lifted from the ground and left into the night sky.

# Chapter 16

In the depths of the seedy part of the city, Grant stepped from out a taxi. He lifted the collar of his brown trench coat to shield his face from the torrential rain. Loud techno music echoed between the tall buildings and red neon light illuminated the raindrops. Grant was outside one of the many gay clubs that were situated along the strip. While all the petite effeminate men in tight skinny jeans were searched by the burly doormen, Grant merely nodded his way through the door.

He walked down the dark stairwell and into the main hall. Crowds of men danced and caressed each other under the bright, colourful strobe lights. Grant politely pushed past the party goers and made his way to the bar. There was a vacant stool where he sat down and wiped away the spilt vodka.

"Usual?" the camp moustached barman asked.

"Please," Grant mimed his reply. He may be known to the staff in the bar, but the club was far from Grant's favourite places. The only purpose for his visits to this part of the city was his informants.

The barman returned with Grant's drink, "so are you going to pay for this one?" he leant over to Grant.

"I wouldn't count on it," Grant smirked. The club was known to police for many illegal activities, especially in the bathrooms, but Grant would usually let them slide in the offer of free drinks and discreet meetings with some of his informants. He turned to the dance floor and scanned the crowd. He laid eyes on the person whom he had come to see. A tall skinny pale man danced against a large dark-skinned gentleman. Grant glared at him until he caught his attention. Not wanted to keep Grant waiting, the man quickly approached.

"Did you enjoy watching," the man laughed as he rested against the bar.

"Admittedly I spend far too much time in this godforsaken place, but I cannot imagine anything worse than watch you fondle another guy's crouch," Grant cruelly replied as he pulled out a brown paper envelope full of cash and discreetly placed it on the bar.

"Easy now, you never know who could be watching," he took the cash and folded the envelope in his trousers.

"Calm down Jamie, this place is full of rent boys taking bribes from suits all the time, a few hundred notes for some information is hardly going to raise eyes brows," Grant drank from his beer.

"Is that so, talking from experience are we," Jamie playfully stoked Grant on the arm.

"Move your hand, or I'll break it," he growled, "enough small talk, you know why I'm here. Now tell me what I have come to here."

"It's nice to see you too," Jamie removed his hand, "the one I have told you about before, Philip, he came to my place two days ago, and we experimented with some questionable pills. Now, a streetwise kid like myself, I can handle my gear, but this guy he went all funny and shit."

"How do you mean all funny and shit?" Grant asked.

"You know, when you've had a few too many pills then your mind can take... well maybe you don't," Jamie giggled to himself.

"Enough jokes," Grant snarled.

"Well anyway, he lay on the bed out of his mind, in a cold sweat, drooling and started telling me all sorts of weird things. He kept talking about some guy called Dallas who he had been stalking, saying they were ready to hold them up in a mansion he owns on the outskirts of the city. If you ask me, you ought to arrest Philip before he does some serious harm to this Dallas fellow.

"I think Dallas will be fine, did he tell you where the mansion is?"

"Honey, please, how many years have you known me? I never miss out information, here I wrote the address down on a napkin," Jamie gave Grant the napkin.

"You never fail to disappoint me, Jamie," Grant drank the rest of his beer.

"You not going to stay for a dance," Jamie laughed.

"I'd rather chew my own vomit, but thanks for the information, try not to kill yourself with whatever you spend the cash on," Grant stood from the stool and quickly made his escape from the club. As he walked out the door, another man brushed past him. Grant did not know why, but he felt a sudden chill run down his back. The taxi was parked on the other side of the road, it saw Grant and turned the engine on. Grant climbed in, and the cab drove away.

Unbeknown to Grant it was Damien who had brushed past him. Damien looked out of place more so than Grant, dressed in a pearl white suit he dared anyone to touch him. Each man who attempted to look at Damien, he returned a glare with such bitterness that he was able to reach into their soul and reveal their most inner darkest secrets.

One man turned and faced Damien, with a light heart smile, Damien was able to destroy him with a simple sentence. "You masturbate to videos of your twelve-year-old nephew," Damien spoke with pure evil in his voice. The man trembled and spilt his drink, his friends around him looked at him with disgust. Others quickly looked away from Damien and avoided eye contact.

Jamie was about to return to the dance floor until he caught sight of Damien. He had never set eyes on Damien before but for some reason had an ill-feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Come to me boy," Jamie heard Damien's voice in his head. He hastily walked away from Damien and snuck into the toilets.

Damien followed Jamie into the toilets and stepped in puddles of beer and urine, he groaned at the stains left on his maroon suede shoes. "Leave," he bellowed at those washing their hands in the sink. All quickly vacated the room. There next to the urinals where three discoloured green cubicles. All three were closed, Jamie had to be hiding in one of them.

"Reveal yourself to me, boy," Damien hit his fist against the wall and cracked a tile. "Help me tonight, and I can make the pain go away. Confess your sins to me, and you may walk away. Forgive me, father, for I have sinned," Damien pressed his face against the cubical door. "I take shots in the mouth for coin," he stepped back and kicked the door down to reveal the vacant toilet. "The lord can forgive greed if you return the coin you have taken."

Damien moved to the second door. "Forgive me, father for I have sinned, I fill my empty life with a drink from dawn till dusk, I drink myself into a coma where I sleep in my own vomit," he kicked the second door. "The lord can forgive gluttony if you have the will to change, put down the bottle and revert your ways." He ran his fingers against the inner walls of the cubical, "and so we reach our last sinner, your soul is stained with a foul stench of envy. Why did your father abuse you and not your brother, why has your brother led a successful life, while yours is filled with misery?"

Damien kicked the final door, behind, Jamie sat crouched on the toilet in fear. He held his head in his hands and cowered, "please show mercy," Jamie trembled.

"You are one brave sinner asking for mercy when you show me no cooperation," Damien pulled Jamie by his hair and threw him from out the cubical, his head cracked against the sink. Jamie felt the blood escape from his forehead. Damien reached down and slammed Jamie against the wall.

"What do you want," Jamie cried as he wet himself.

"Pitiful human," Damien laughed, "Where has he taken Dallas?"

"I don't know, I wrote the address for the cop I cannot remember it, I'm sorry, please don't kill me," he pleaded for his life.

Damien dropped Jamie and steadied him, he wiped his shoulders and walked back, "well if you cannot remember it then please do not worry yourself, we should not be expected to remember every bit of detail we are told," Damien was suspiciously calm.

"Really, you mean that," Jamie smiled and wiped the blood from his nose.

Damien did not reply. Instead, he merely smirked as his eyes darkened. Jamie looked on, worried. He felt a sensation around his mouth, with glace in the mirror he saw his mouth stitch together. He panicked but was unable to move, his legs were cemented to the floor. Jamie attempted to scream but was unable too.

"Burn," Damien spoke with wickedness that shattered the mirrors in the bathroom. Jamie looked to his feet and saw flames ignite around his legs. He again continued to try and move, but nothing would work. The pain was agonising, he felt his skin blister and burn. The flames rose, and his whole body was soon engulfed in fire. Damien turned and left the bathroom. He walked through the crowds of men leaving Jamie's smouldering corpse behind.

Damien reached the exit; there was a shriek from inside, "fire!" A male voice called out. The door behind Damien slammed shut to leave all the clubbers trapped inside. Screaming men were soon banging against the door pleading to escape. Damien calmly stood next to the door and lit a cigarette. The men could see Damien from behind the door, but he chose to ignore their pleas.

"What the fuck," the doorman noticed the commotion from behind him and attempted to open the door, but the bolts locked. "Hey, you, help me," he shouted to Damien, but Damien ignored him.

Others ran across the street to help, but despite the manpower that tried to open the door, nothing would work. "We're burning inside," one of the trapped men called out. Damien took a drag from his cigarette and laughed to himself. He dropped the cigarette to the floor and stubbed it out with his foot. Damien lifted the collar of his blazer and walked away with his hands in pocket. "Boom," he murmured.

The club exploded and threw the party goers outside in the air, their scorched bodies littered the road. Cars swerved to avoid the lifeless bodies and crashed into each other. Damien walked away from the tragedy with delight at the devastation he had caused.

# Chapter 17

It had been several days since Dallas had left Rebecca in the hands of Bartholomew. Fearing of being alone she had spent much of her time in the study where Bartholomew devoted significant portions of his day. There were bookcases as tall as houses lined up against the wall filled with thousands of literature hundreds of years old. With some of the occupants accompanying Dallas, he used this time to continue with his oil painting, a tribute to old renaissance art. He had tried his best to bring to life the church that lay at the centre of the ice maze where Philip was headed.

"That's an unusual place for a church," Rebecca was unaware of what the painting represented.

"Your comments suggest that a church should be built in one location?" Bartholomew replied as he elegantly added colour to the pale ice.

"I'm not suggesting that churches should be built only in populated areas, all I'm saying is that you would not expect a church or even any building to be built surrounded by canyons on ice. I assume there's some sort of hidden meaning?" She soon lost interest and poured herself a glass of whisky from the dark brown varnished cabinet in the middle of the room.

"There does not always have to be a meaning behind a painting. Can it not merely be the visions of those who choose to dream," Bartholomew looked up from his pallet and saw Rebecca helping herself, "be careful how much you drink. I know it can be a chore to do nothing but sit around here. However, you must make sure at all times you are aware of your surroundings."

Rebecca fell back into a grand red leather chair and crossed her legs to relax, "a little scotch isn't going to hurt me, it surprises me that you have not been filled in about my past. I can hold my own when it comes to liquor," she joked.

"Humm..." Bartholomew disapproved at her somewhat careless attitude.

Away from the house and beyond the boundaries of the property, a group of masked men dressed in black military style outfits gathered under the hidden moonlight. In the centre of the huddle crouched Grant. He knelt over a blueprint to the grounds and held a small torch with his left hand and used the right to assign directions.

"As most of you will be aware, we have been ambushed several times now when approaching the suspect Dallas Mitchell. All of you must approach this situation with extreme caution and keep an eye out for one another. If at any point it looks like you or another is in serious risk of harm, we pull out. I cannot have another operation where we experience loss of life, everyone got that?" Grant looked at his men for a silent agreement, they all nodded to comply.

"In a few moments, we should get the word that power has been cut from the site. Once in darkness, we should be able to make our entrance through the main gates, I want two teams, either side to approach the house. Use your night vision and flash bang your way in. Shoot to disarm, I do not want any loss of life, friendly nor enemy. Intelligence tells us both Dallas and his accomplice are occupants, as soon as they are in custody, we evac," Grant finished his speech and turned off the torch.

"The grid is down," the voice over the radio announced.

"That's our queue," Grant stood and led the men through the gates and onto the darkness grounds.

Inside the property, Rebecca and Bartholomew were eclipsed in darkness. There were no windows in the study to allow even the faintest of moonlight.

"Bartholomew?" Rebecca sat up in distress.

"Do not be alarmed, more than likely it is a mere power cut," he attempted to put her at ease.

Another gentleman burst into the room with a lantern in his hand, "Sir, we have company," he expressed.

"A power cut?" Rebecca snipped.

"Rebecca, please, I assure you everything will be ok," he held his palm out to her to try and settle the situation, "stay with her and I will see what the commotion is." He left the room and rushed down the corridor in almost darkness toward the main reception, where another was waiting. "Well," he abruptly called out.

"So far we have spotted ten police making their way through the grounds, it appears they have cut the power," the shadowy figure responded.

"You think," he replied sarcastically. "They are here for the girl; without power we will not be able to place the house under lockdown. Get to the safe room and switch on the backup generator, I will get Rebecca and Jeremiah from the study, and I will meet you there. Julian, we must protect her at all costs. If the police know she is here, then I can only assume Damien is not far behind."

"As you wish sir," Julian hurried upstairs towards the safe room.

Bartholomew quickly made his way back to Rebecca, but she was no longer in the room, nor was her minder. "Rebecca," he called out, but there was no response. He heard a window shatter, which was quickly followed by a bang and a flash of light. The intruders had broken in.

"Police," voices shouted along the corridors.

To avoid detection, Bartholomew swiftly moved away from the police and further into the house, he could only assume that Rebecca had been taken to the safe room.

Grant entered the house through the broken window to the side of the house, three other officers followed behind him. He held his rifle out close to his shoulder and scanned the room through his night vision goggles. They had entered the grand hall. The long table was empty apart from two large silver candles. There was a grandfather clock opposite that echoed throughout the building. They slowly stepped along the extravagant varnish wooden floor. The ticking clock stopped for a moment. Grant raised his hand to bring the others to a holt.

"You see something, sir?" another asked Grant.

Grant looked behind back at the clock, a crack had appeared in the glass cabinet. He saw a shadow rush past the clock and through the hall. Small footsteps scurried through the room, and between the officers. They panicked and dispersed.

"What the fuck," one of the officers swore in fear.

"Calm yourselves down there is nothing there, it is a trick of the light," he grabbed one of the men. "Now carry on with the search, only speak if you find our suspects." Grant continued to walk forward into a corridor. Ten minutes had passed, and they had not found anyone.

"Ground floor clear," an officer proclaimed.

"Very well, they must be hiding upstairs, continue the search with caution," Grant replied.

There was a sudden tremor that rumbled through the entire house. Grant and the others became spooked by a mirror that unexpectedly fractured. A hot gust of air swept past them all, with such heat it made their weapons unbearable to hold.

"Shit," Grant shouted as he dropped his weapon under the intense heat.

"What the hell was that sir," the lead officer dropped his weapon also.

"I have no idea, pick up your weapons and continue with the search."

Bartholomew walked to the back bedroom on the third floor where the safe room was located, "Rebecca," he whispered. He opened the door and crept into the room. Next to the lavish bed was a bookcase that had been moved, revealing a small passageway. He took caution and slowly approached. "Rebecca," he called out again.

"Take one more step, and I'll end you," Bartholomew felt a gun press against the back of his head.

"What do you think you are doing, I asked to you protect Rebecca?" Bartholomew was confused as to why one his men would hold a gun to his head. "Where is, Julian?"

"There is no one else brother, I have laid the path for him to take his rightful bride," Jeremiah callously spoke.

"Him?" Bartholomew questioned. It only took a matter of moments for him to realise who he was talking about. "Damien has got to you..."

"It is not Damien that has got to me, but large unmarked bills have," he laughed.

"Money will not buy you happiness, brother, there is still time, do not do this." Bartholomew was struck around the back of the head and fell to the ground. He could feel the blood dripping from his scalp. With blurred vision, he managed to see Rebecca cowering in the corner of the room, "Rebecca," he reached out.

Jeremiah walked in front of Bartholomew and pointed his gun at her, "do not get any idea's, keep quiet, and you will not be harmed. However, while we wait, there is no reason why you cannot show me why Dallas is such a fan," he lured after her.

In his dazed state, Bartholomew looked around for anything he could use to stop him. A pen was under a footstool next to him, he picked it up and stabbed it into Jeremiah's ankle, "leave her alone."

"Ahh," Jeremiah cried out, he turned, but before he could fire his weapon, Bartholomew had stumbled to his feet and charged him to the ground. They both struggled on the floor and fought for the gun.

Bartholomew sat on Jeremiah and had him restrained, "Run," he shouted to Rebecca. She quickly rose to her feet and ran past the pair of them. Bartholomew took his attention away from Jeremiah for a moment, he used this to his advantage and kicked him off. He scrambled for the gun and picked it up.

"I never liked you," He snarled and fired three bullets into Bartholomew's chest. He fired another at Rebecca, but it ricocheted off the door frame. "Rebecca!" he shouted and hobbled after her.

Bartholomew was left to die on his own in the room, he gasped for breath as blood ran from his mouth. The silhouette of Katie appeared from the doorway. She made her way to him and sat next to him. With a flower in her hand, she picked the petals one by one. "He will find her, there is no stopping him," she ran out of petals and placed the naked flower next to him. "Goodnight," she kissed him on the forehead and left his lifeless body.

"Shots fired," Grant heard over the radio.

"Who opened fire!" Grant shouted to his men.

"The shots were not from us sir," the voice replied. The vibrations in the house returned, and this time, it was more violent. Books fell from bookcases, vases shattered. All their night vision equipment powered down. The vibrations stopped, and Grant was able to steady himself. "Everyone, switch to your flashlights."

"Sir, what the hell is going on?" the officer beside was spooked.

"Remain aware of your surrounding and continue the search," Grant lead the group further into the house.

"Si, we have found a body on the third floor, he has been shot multiple times in the chest," the officer on the radio spoke.

"Any sign of either of the suspects," Grant replied.

"No, sir, there's no..." the radio went silent.

"Malcolm come in," Grant hesitated as he heard the giggle from a little girl echo from the radio. "Malcolm," he shouted. There were more shots fired by Malcolm and the others with him. Grant heard male cries and flustered voices. "Will, somebody tell me what the fuck is going on?"

"Get back!" Malcolm called out over the radio, as they heard another shot, "What are you?" There was a harrowing scream heard throughout the house. Grant froze, he did not want to lose more men.

"Sir, do you want us to approach," the officer to his side asked.

"Nobody take another step forward; I want all of you to remain in the main foyer. I will investigate on my own." Grant left the men and carefully walked toward the third floor. He kept his rifle close and switched off his flashlight, he used the moonlight to guide his way up the stairs.

"Sir, we have found the girl, she is in the foyer."

"Remove her from the building straightaway and take her to the van. I will meet you there," Grant replied. He reached the third floor and immediately saw the bodies of his men scattered across the hallway. Blood was splattered along the walls and on several lavish paintings. He switched his light back on and inspected each body. There were no bullet holes in the men, the blood had come from their throats that had been torn apart. At the bottom of the corridor, he saw a smartly dressed figure stood with their back turned to him. "Slowly raise your hands in the air," Grant held his rifle.

The figure was dressed in a white pin-striped suit with marron leather shoes. He raised his hands, and a gold watch slipped down his wrist. The light reflected off his black nail varnish. He turned around, and it was Damien. There was not one ounce of blood on him.

"Dal..." Grant was confused, he was sure he had finally caught Dallas.

"Were you expecting somebody else," Damien smirked.

"Where is Dallas Mitchell," Grant called out.

"Ah the notorious Dallas, I must say I'm awfully upset that you do not know who I am if you have been after Mr Mitchell for so many years," he took one step forward.

"Move another muscle, and I'll blow you away, what happened here?"

"Look at me, I am dressed in this finely pressed Italian suit, you think I would want to get blood on it? They were already dead before I entered the hallway. I was in another room, keeping my own business. It's been a rather distressing evening seeing all this bloodshed," despite the despair Damien showed in his voice, his mischievous smile remained.

Grant approached Damien and pulled out his handcuffs. He pulled down his hands and handcuffed Damien. "Put up a struggle, and you will join the others on the floor, I don't care what you say you were up to."

"Very well, lead the way," Damien left without a fight.

"Sir, have you located the other suspect?"

"Negative, I have apprehended another, Dallas is not here. Place the girl in the car, and I will load this suspect in the van," Grant replied to his radio.

"Oh, you have somebody else in handcuffs?" Damien asked.

"If you know Dallas, then I am sure you are aware who else we have," Grant replied with similar sarcasm.

"Indeed, I must," he smirked.

Grant lead Damien through the foyer and outside to where his men were waiting. Damien saw Rebecca and blew her a kiss. She instantly screamed and tried to escape the police car. One of the officers restrained her. Grant saw the fear Damien brought on Rebecca and quickly shoved him in the back, "keep moving." He opened the rear of the van and unlocked a small cage just big enough to house an adult.

"This is most barbaric placing me in such a small cage," Damien polity pointed out.

"Care to tell me why she was so petrified by you?" Grant pushed him into the cage.

"Whatever do you mean, I have not seen the girl before," Damien playfully smiled.

Grant frowned at him. He slammed the cage door and secured the lock. He closed the van doors and returned to the car. "Drive," Grant sat in the passenger seat and ordered.

"Do you not need to wait for back up, I mean we have men in there," the driver questioned.

"And we will send for a clean-up team, but for now I want these two in custody now. There is too little of us to leave anyone behind." With only half his men they drove away from the house. Inside Grant was devastated at losing so many men yet again on a mission to catch Dallas, but at least for now he had Rebecca, somebody whom Dallas would not leave behind without reason.

# Chapter 18

Dallas had spent the last day travelling from Philip's house in the luxurious helicopter. It had taken him from the outer regions of the city to the furthest part of the continent that a helicopter could possibly travel. The icy chill of the arctic air made it difficult for the engine to run efficiently. They had landed within a small abandoned fishing village. The derelict buildings were covered in inches of snow, large snow vehicles had been neglected, left vacant in the elements to freeze.

Plumes of smoke escaped from a chimney of the only habitable building, a small café outside the harbour deck. The broken windows had been boarded up. There was a stone-built fire pit in the centre of the room with a chimney above it. The fire pit lit up the dark room. Andrew, James and John were all sat around the fire enjoying the warmth, feeding themselves on a broth John had cooked. Dallas was in the back room getting dressed out of his suit that he had worn for a day and into a warm hiker gear Philip had given to him.

Philip was outside securing the helicopter. Despite the cold and mean snowfall, he had to make sure the aircraft was secure and was ready for their return. Before he left the vehicle, he heard the radio. "Philip, are you there?" Bartholomew's voice spoke.

Philip opened the cabin door and picked up the radio, "I'm here?"

"I have failed you," his voice crackled, it became difficult for Philip to make out what he was saying, echoes of children's laughter hissed through the radio.

"What do you mean...Rebecca...where is she?" Philip flustered.

"He does not have her yet, but it is only a matter of time, the dark lord has taken the rest of us, there is no one left..." the radio fell silent.

"Bartholomew..." Philip paused, awaiting a response he knew was not coming. "May the Lord have mercy on your soul," he murmured to himself.

"Philip," Katie's adolescent voice whispered, he did not respond, "I know your there, Philip. Try as you might, you cannot outrun Samael, he will find you."

Philip dropped the radio and left the helicopter. He returned to the others inside the café, by which time Dallas had joined them to enjoy the broth. "It is time we leave," Philip announced to everyone.

"Already, we have not even been here for an hour, why not let us rest until the morning?" John complained.

"Beginning out next voyage hidden by the night sky will only help us," Philip did not wish to explain the reason in too much detail, he could not afford for Dallas to be distracted by Rebecca's situation.

"Hidden from who?" Dallas spoke between each spoonful.

"You really think the officer who has been so resourceful in attempting to arrest you is going to let you leave the city so easily. We may be far away, but he will eventually make it north. I am sure of it," Philip tried to lessen the urgency of his request.

"So, it's not because you believe Samael to be not too far from approaching?" Dallas smiled. "Philip, I have had many encounters with that son of a bitch to know he is never too far behind. I am almost certain we will cross paths with him in the next day or so."

"Very well, then you understand my need for us to leave right away," Philip held his arm out to request they all follow him.

The five men scrambled through the deep snow and through the blizzard toward the only boat that remained at the harbour. An old yacht floated between the sheets of ice; it's painted wooden exterior had been weathered by the harsh environment. There was a small cabin on board barely large enough to fit all five of them in, it would be a close journey for them all. The tall mast had broken from the fierce wind that had attacked the boat. A recycled engine had been fitted to the rear as a replacement. They entered the cabin with two sitting either side on the ripped leather chairs as Philip remained stood at the wheel.

"You travel around in expensive cars and lavish helicopters, but yet you expect us to travel in this tired old boat?" Dallas exclaimed.

"I buy an old tired boat and move it this far north you think people will question my motives, perhaps not. I take a yacht worth thousands, if not millions and place it this far north and people will question me," Philip pulled the ignition several times to get the diesel engine running. The vessel gradually left the harbour as it crunched its way through the frozen Arctic waters. From inside the cabin, they could feel and hear the vibrations of the ice against the hull.

After a short time, Philip slowed the engine to reserve enough fuel to return. Dallas peered out into the vast emptiness that was the frozen ocean before him. "So, you guys have any family, kids or hobbies you want to talk about?" He smirked to create conversation away from their task at hand.

"If you trying to find out if we have lives outside of the four of us then I am afraid you will be sadly mistaken. We made a sacrifice to our lord man years ago that we would do our utmost to protect you should the day arise," John replied.

"Well this is certainly turning out to be an exciting trip," Dallas rolled his eyes.

"Ignore that miserable bastard, our lives do not solely revolve around your whereabouts," Andrew interrupted, "I may not speak for John, but do enjoy the occasional trip out to the nightlife of the city. Maybe even the company of several women who may interest me. The point is we have normality in our lives just as much as you do."

"I am glad to hear it," Dallas answered back. "I must say though it has been a while since I have been able to enjoy a peaceful week, without the interruption of some desperate, depressing soul trying to ruin my evening."

Hours had passed, and Dallas had decided to brave the cold and enjoy the solitude of the ocean. The snowstorm had cleared to leave an empty sky. The darkness of the midnight sky was littered with twinkling stars. Dallas was mesmerised by the northern lights, greens and yellows were entwined with each other in an alluring dance. He had not seen such a view since he first met Katie all those years ago. Despite wearing gloves, his hands were still cold, he rubbed them together and placed them under his armpits.

"Cold, isn't it?" Philip spoke from behind.

"You sure you're allowed to leave the boat, unattended?" Dallas laughed.

"Between the others, they should be able to steer us away from any danger should it occur," Philip leaned against the guard rail. He investigated the water and could see a seal close to the surface. "Looks like we are being followed."

"It has been swimming with us for the last twenty minutes by my count. It must like the company," Dallas replied, he turned and stood with his back to the ocean. "This whole journey has been full of bumps. I cannot imagine this trip across the ocean can be so easy."

"And you would be correct, we are heading to what is essentially the gateway to Hell. Within these waters, the Leviathan swims, it will drown anyone who wakes it from its slumber."

"As much as I would like to argue with you, I have seen enough to know you're telling the truth. But if it drowns anyone who approaches, why are we sailing directly to it?"

"We are sailing at such a canter that our ripples will only grab the attention of the smaller local sea life, hence your friend next to us. Anything bigger will, of course, wake him." Philip pointed out into the distance.

"What do you see?" Dallas looked but could not see anything across the dark horizon.

"Philip, do you see them?" Andrew peered out from the cabin.

"Yes, I do, switch the engine off and turn off the lights," Philip remained calm.

"Erm, what do you all see? It is pitch black out there," a confused Dallas challenged.

"I would suggest it be a small Navy vessel."

"What be a small Navy vessel?" Dallas raised his voice.

"Dallas lower your voice; we have been followed ever since we left port. I'll give them their dues they have certainly been following us for a while. Usually, they will depart when we enter the dark waters of the Leviathan."

"That thing isn't going to sink us is it," a worried look overcame Dallas.

"Just watch," Philip reassuringly smiled.

The plain Naval vessel approached, there were no guns or rockets attached to the ship. The only weapons were in the hands of the sailors who stood along the starboard. A bright searchlight on top of the cabin switched open and shinned up Dallas and the others.

"Identify yourselves," a voice commanded over a loudspeaker.

Philip held Dallas' arm and shook his head.

"You are sailing in restricted waters, identify yourselves; otherwise, we will use all necessary force to apprehend your boat."

There was a gust of cold arctic wind that left an unease around Dallas, he felt the presence of something in the water. The once placid ocean rippled. Small waves rocked their boat. Dallas held the rail to retain his balance. The naval vessel was struck by a more enormous wave. The searchlight shattered. Dallas could see that the sailors were spooked by the sudden surge. It had come out of nowhere. A moan echoed between the boats, it sounded too big to be a whale, Dallas realised the Leviathan had woke. The vessel was once again attacked by another massive wave, a sailor fell into the ocean. A loud alarm sounded from the ship.

"I presume they have no idea who swims within these waters," Dallas whispered.

"Do not be alarmed about the loss of life you are about to witness," Philip quietly replied.

Dallas saw the shimmer of scales within the waters. The small waves became still. The water appeared to retreat slightly. The powerful waves also dispersed. The waters around them rose high into the sky, within moments Dallas was surrounded by a wall of water, the height of a skyscraper. The sailors all stopped moving, they were all taken aback by the strange event. Along the wall of water, a green glimmer of light shone from the scales of the beast.

It swam within the wall, and its moan echoed again. The cry was quickly replaced by a vicious roar. From behind the larger vessel, Dallas saw the Leviathan's tail rise high into the sky against the backdrop of the still wave. Its dark green scales were illuminated by the moonlight. Sailors began firing their weapons at the serpent, others ran in fear. The tail though remained unmoved. None of the bullets could pierce the skin.

"Are we not going to help them?" Dallas asked.

"No," Philip bluntly replied.

"But they are helpless," Dallas was concerned.

"And they will be looked after when they reach the pearly gates, now Dallas, keep quiet," Philip angered beneath his breath.

There was another roar, followed by a crackle of thunder in the cloudless sky. The tail fell back and swung into the hull of the vessel. Its hardened skin sliced through the metal shell. There was an explosion as the fuel ignited. Sailors were thrown from the deck and into the ice-cold ocean water. The harrowing cries of dying men made Dallas shudder. One of the broken halves of the vessel was quickly submerged. The other half remained afloat. The beast circled the drowning sailors. Its head emerged from the water. Its huge serpent head was the size of the boat Dallas stood upon; its eyes glowed a murderous crimson. Silver fins ran along the top of its head and down its spine. The Leviathan approached the sailors and opened its jaw to reveal enormous sharp teeth. It captured the men within its mouth and dived underwater to take the men to a watery grave.

"Philip, we need to do something?" Dallas tried one last time to make him act, but he did not respond, he callously stood and watched the sailors perish.

The Leviathan appeared once more; it swam toward the remaining part of the vessel. It opened its jaw and ripped through the rest of the hull. More explosions lit up the night sky as the remaining fuel ignited. Dallas saw the last few sailors jump for their lives only to be caught by the ignited fuel. The flames torched their skin and made it difficult to swim. Eventually, they sank beneath the waves along with their vessel. Before long, the ocean wall settled, and there was no sign of the beast or the sailors.

"And on we go," Philip shrugged his shoulders and walked back into the cabin. The engine switched on, and they continued their journey. Dallas was left distressed by Philip's lack of remorse for the loss of life.

# Chapter 19

Reluctantly Katherine's parents had let her out of the house for the first time since her release from the hospital. It was not an exotic trip it, but merely to the local shop to fetch a loaf of bread. Katherine was usually an independent girl, but since the accident and the ongoing events in the hospital, her parents were concerned with her leaving the house. There was an eerie fog along the street where she walked. The path was empty, with no other pedestrians. She could hear the hoot of an owl within the mid-morning sky. She was wrapped up in a long grey hoody and kept her face hidden with the hood.

The small grocery shop was on the other side of the road. A little terrier dog was tied to a lamppost next to the shop. It lay on a flat piece of cardboard, but once it saw Katherine, it stood up and incessantly barked at her. She stepped out into the clear road, halfway across she became uneased. She felt the ground around her shake, but the buildings around her remained unmoved. Once the movement stopped, a black horse appeared from out the fog and galloped past her. She turned and watched it pass. The horse's rib cage was visible, and its skin was dry and torn. The horse panted and starred at Katherine as it disappeared into the fog.

Katherine tried to remain calm and ignored the strange occurrence. She entered the small grocery shop, the shop keeper acknowledged her as she wandered through the aisles. The floors were dirty, littered with broken cardboard boxes. An old couple argued over which milk to buy, and two young boys attempted to hide sweets in their jackets that they had no intention of paying for.

Katherine found the bread her parents had asked for and look a loaf from the shelf. As she took the bread, a set of eyes were staring at her from the other side. She was spooked and dropped the loaf. The eyes blinked and quickly ran away with a little girly giggle. Katherine stepped back and trod on the bread. She looked up the aisle, and the old couple were no longer arguing. They stood hand in hand and stared at Katherine with a blank expression. Their eyes were white and mouths wide open as if their jaws had dislocated.

"Hello," Katherine asked hesitantly, but there was no reply, the old couple did not move. She stepped back and cautiously turned around.

Behind Katherine, the two boys were also still, their eyes widen, with dilated pupils. Their jaws wide but their teeth were broken and rotten. Both their wrists had been bent backwards and fingers crocked.

"Oh my god," Katherine let out a whimper. As she tried to move away from the boys, she felt herself press up against the fridge. Katherine placed her palm against the frosty door and felt a tingle against her skin. She turned around and fell to the ground.

Thorns grew from the shelves behind Katherine and scratched along the floor. Before she could move her hands, the thorns wrapped themselves around her wrists and held her down. Every time she struggled, the thorns dug in and made her skin bleed. The lights around the shop switched off one by one, Katherine knew once again she would be alone in the darkness. All the lights had switched off, the only light came from the fridge in front of her. Two ravens landed next to her, the first pecked at the thorns around her wrists. It was not trying to help her escape but attempted to taste her blood. The other squawked and stood next to the fridge. The tops from the milk bottles inside the fridge popped off, and milk oozed out onto the floor. Katherine became soaked by the puddle of milk.

Small footsteps appeared in the milk, they walked around Katherine and into the fridge door. A cold mist whooshed over Katherine, and the ghostly reflection of Katie appeared in the glass.

"No, no," Katherine cried and tried again to break free. "Go away," she screamed, but Katie smiled and began to sing.

"The earth woke up from its slumber,

The Raven awakens with the rising sun.

His dark soul sleeps, peaceful and calm,

the taste for blood his spirit does crave.

One soul waits, struggling before him."

Katherine wrestled the thorns again, and despite the pain, she managed to break free. She ripped the thorns from her skin and scrambled to her feet. The lights in the shop switched back on, and the thorns disintegrated in her hands.

"Is everything ok?" The old man asked.

Katherine was confused, she could not work out if what had just happened was real. She looked at the boys, and they continued to steel sweats. "Yes, everything is fine," she replied. Katherine looked around and saw no sign of Katie, that was until she heard the whispering in her ear.

"He'll slice and dice and cut you up, and offer your soul to me," Katie sung to her.

"Leave me alone," Katherine screamed. She pushed past the old couple and ran out of the shop. Outside the fog had departed and the sun had warmed the air. The dog continued to bark at Katherine, she turned and stared at the dog. It whimpered and lay down, afraid at her stare. Katherine ran as fast as she could back to her home. In a matter of moments, she burst through the front door and into the hallway.

"Katherine, is that you?" Her mother asked.

"Yes, I'm back," she replied out of breath.

"Oh, my goodness honey, are you ok?" Her mother worried when she saw the distress Katherine appeared to be in.

"I'm fine mother, it started to rain, so I decided to run back," she rested her hands on her hips to try and gain her breath.

"Rain? Katherine, there is not a cloud in the sky."

"Well there was when I walked out the shop," she snapped back, suddenly she remembered the loaf of bread that she had left on the floor, "oh sorry there was no bread."

"No bread? Then what is that on the floor behind you?" Her mother pointed to the loaf on the floor beside the front door. "Are you sure you are ok, if it was too much for you leaving the house so early then that is fine," she reached down for the bread. As she picked up the loaf, she noticed the scratches from the thorns on Katherine's wrists, "what have you been doing?" She held Katherine by the arm.

"I have not done anything, I fell and scratched my wrist," Katherine pulled away.

"That is not from falling over Katherine, have you been cutting yourself?" She worried.

"Just forget it mother, I already told you, I'm fine." Katherine stormed upstairs into her room. She slammed the door behind her and fell onto her bed. She cried into her pillow.

"You can end this pain, Katherine," Katie's voice whispered once more.

"Leave me alone," Katherine cried. She turned around and lay, staring at the ceiling. She felt a cold presence in the room, by this point, she was no longer afraid but more exhausted by Katie's persecution.

"Once you give me what is mine, I will leave you alone."

"Then take it," Katherine lay her arms out with tears down her face, "I cannot fight anymore, I just want it all to stop."

"It gladdens me that your soul is prepared to depart this vessel. But it is not yet time for the feast, there are others who we wait for."

"Then why do you torment me," Katherine sat up and crossed her legs. She rubbed the raw wounds on her wrists.

"Boredom, I guess. I lie within the dirt, my body infested by worms. You think I want to wait there, in a tomb of soil. No, I enjoy bringing misery to those who stand in my way. "

"Katherine, are you ok?" There was a knock at the door.

"I'm fine Jarvis, go away," Katherine shouted.

He opened the door and entered the room against her will. He stepped over the piles of clothes and sat at the foot of her bed, "Who were you talking to?"

"No one?" she shrugged.

"Then what was with all the voices?"

"Jarvis, will you just get out of my room. I don't need this," she kicked out at Jarvis.

"I get it, Katherine, something happened to you with your friends, and people got hurt, it's ok to admit you cannot cope. If not to mom and dad, then you can at least talk to me. I've been through tough times in the past. You think you're the only one who's cut their wrists." He rolled up his sleeve to reveal scars.

"I'm not traumatised Jarvis, these are not self-inflicted, like I told mom I fell over. Just because you almost fucked your life up does not mean I will."

"Alright, Katherine, call it like it is," he laughed.

"A girl is allowed to have a bit of PMT once in a while," she climbed from her bed and picked up a brush from the side table to brush her hair.

"If that's all you say it then you know what that's fine, I'm not going to argue. But if you do need to talk to, I am here for you," Jarvis jumped off the bed and walked to the door.

"Thank you, Jarvis," she politely replied.

"Oh, me and a few others are going out tomorrow night, why don't you join us, perhaps a dance will help you relax a little," Jarvis closed the door behind him.

Katherine repeatedly brushed her hair. The smile Jarvis left on her face was short lived. In the mirror behind her, Katie sat on the bed, with her teddy bear clutched in her grasp a brush stroked her hair in unison with Katherine.

# Chapter 20

Damien sat with his legs crossed in a small confined interview room in the police station. He was no longer dressed in one of his extravagant suits but instead dress in baggy dark blue jeans and a torn grey jumper. The police had confiscated his suit to check for blood from the scene from which he was found. He tapped his sharp fingernails on the table and waited patiently. He looked at the large mirror in the room and glared with a calm blank expression.

Behind the mirror, Grant stood in a dark room with a cup of coffee. He starred back at Damien, with no idea who he was. In his other hand, he stubbed out a cigarette. A female uniformed officer entered the room, "found anything," Grant asked.

"We have checked his fingerprints against our database, and it came back with no matches. Unfortunately, he has only given us his first name, no address, no date of birth," she replied.

"Who the hell are you?" Grant asked himself and drank from his mug.

"There was this though," she handed Grant a file.

"What am I looking at?" he opened the file and searched through the photos inside.

"They are from the fire at the club from the other night."

"What about it?" unamused he passed the file back to her.

She picked out a photo from the file and held it in front of Grant, "this photo sir, it was taken from the security cameras on the night of the fire. We believe he may have been one of the culprits, and if you look at the gentleman sitting in there, he looks very similar."

Grant inspected the photograph, "follow me," he led the way into the interview room. Grant pushed the door and held it open for her.

"Good evening officer," Damien greeted the two of them. "My my, aren't you a sight," he leaned forward to the officer as she took her seat. His charm unknowingly made her blushed.

"Sort yourself out officer," Grant disapproved.

"Sorry, sir," she bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling. Despite the ugly, dull police uniform, she was a glamorous looking woman, with her long blonde hair tied in a bun and bright red lipstick.

Grant switched off the recorder on the table and took his seat, "Damien I believe," he welcomed him.

"Yes, and I believe your name to be Grant?" Damien held his hand out.

"Keep your hands to yourself; otherwise, you will be restrained," Grant shoed him away.

"Very well, do you not need to record this conversation?" Damien smiled.

"You can end the pleasantries, where is Dallas Mitchell?"

"Dallas Mitchell?" Damien shrugged his shoulder, "The name does not come to mind I am afraid. Perhaps the girl you have in custody knows him." Damien grinned at Grant to infuriate him. He looked at the officer again, and she became excited inside.

"Bullshit, Dallas had been staying at that house, you either know where he is, or you know who has taken him. Your one of Philip's crew, aren't you?"

"Quite the opposite, unfortunately when I arrived Dallas and Philip had already left. So, I had to make do with those officers of yours. Not very prepared for combat, were they? I was at least expecting a challenge. Hopefully, the rest of you in this building will give me a better time shortly," he licked his lips and undressed the officer with his eyes. She rubbed her left hand against her thigh.

"Who helped you?" Grant slammed his fist against the table.

"Helped me? No one helped me, I am insulted that you would assume I needed help to disarm a couple of police officers," Damien sat back and smirked.

The officer felt a shiver along her back and heard Damien's voice in her head, "imagine your tied naked to the table, I'm stroking my hand down your body and biting your nipples." Her hand involuntary pressed against her crotch. She felt herself become wet from the sound of his voice. She held back a groan from the excitement between her legs.

"Something the matter, officer?" Damien lured at her.

"There is no way you acted alone?" Grant stood. "Dallas must have been there, surely he helped you?" He wanted answers.

"Sit down you hysterical fool, listen to my words, I was there to end Dallas, not help him. I want him dead. Let me go, and I will take you to Dallas, he should have reached the church by now. That is unless you want me to burn this place down. It's up to you," he shrugged his shoulders.

"You are not going anywhere," Grant refused to sit down. Instead, he kicked the chair away.

"In that case, get me a lawyer; otherwise, I do not talk," he arrogantly smiled.

"You will talk first," Grant shouted.

"Try me?" Damien ignored Grant and continued to silently seduce the officer. He only had to look her up and down as she could no longer contain herself, she groaned aloud as she climaxed. She rested her head against the table and rubbed herself between the legs. She continued for a few moments until she lost control and collapsed to the ground.

"What have you done?" Grant saw to the officer, she lost consciousness but was still breathing. Grant was seething, he approached Damien and grabbed him around the neck, "who are you?" he growled.

"Grant put the prisoner down and leave the room," his superior spoke from behind the mirror.

"Oh, dear, looks like your boss is not happy. Go on, run along," Damien brushed Grant away.

Two other officers entered to care for the unconscious female. Grant left the room and joined his superior in the room next door. An older suited gentleman was stood in the corner with a cigar. "Just what in god's name do you think you are doing?" He spoke with discontent. "Not only have you spoken to him without correct representation, but you turn off all recording instruments. If it were not for your lapse in judgement in locking this room, I would have not even been aware of this interview."

"I'm this close boss, give me ten more minutes, and I will break him," Grant pleaded.

"The same way you broke Dallas before he miraculously disappeared from custody. I'm shutting you down, Grant. This façade you have put in place to catch this Dallas character has cost the lives of too many a good officer. I do not care how dangerous you say he or his associates are. I am ordering you to take leave of absence."

"But what about Damien and Rebecca. You cannot simply release them," Grant punched the wall in frustration.

"I will personally see to it that Damien is held accountable to the lives of those who perished. As for Rebecca, she is nothing more than a street worker. We will give her somewhere to stay for the night and a chance to clean up before we release her in the morning."

"But sir," Grant raised his voice.

"I don't want to hear it, Grant, get your things and get out of my sight."

"You are making a huge mistake," he reluctantly left and slammed the door behind him. Grant headed toward his desk on the floor above. The office was empty except for Rebecca, who lay on a small couch in the corner of the room with an officer stood beside her. Grant picked up a mug from his desk and threw it across the room. The noise disturbed Rebecca.

"Something wrong," she enjoyed seeing Grant miserable.

"Lucky for you, you will not be seeing me around here for a while. You friend downstairs has made sure of that," Grant picked his pistol up from the drawer and placed in the back of his trousers. He put on his coat and walked up to Rebecca, "Be assured I will be waiting for you and your precious Dallas to screw up, and when you do, I will be there."

"What do you mean, thanks to my friend downstairs?" Rebecca sat up.

"Damien has ensured your safety for tonight, you sure know how to pick them," Grant walked toward the exit.

"Grant, I don't think you understand just who Damien is, he is not an ally of ours. He would not stay here voluntary. Please, Grant, you cannot leave me here if he is here too." Rebecca tried to run after Grant, but the officer refused to let her follow.

"Sorry miss, but I have been told to make sure you do not leave this room," he held her.

"Please take me with you," Rebecca pleaded.

"Tell someone who gives a shit," Grant was at this point too annoyed to care about Rebecca's apparent distress over Damien. He took the elevator down to the deserted garage. There were a couple of police cars parked and Grant's own black hatchback. He placed the key in the door and unlocked the car. Just as he was about to open the door, he smelt an unsavoury smell. Sulphur invaded his nostrils. He held his hand over his mouth and nose to hide the smell. Grant was spooked by an empty glass bottle knocked over on the other side of the garage, he looked around and saw a raven perched on the toppled bottle. It pecked at the glass much to the annoyance of Grant.

"Fucking bird," Grant muttered to himself. He opened the door and climbed into his car. Grant turned the key but the engine stuttered, it took several attempts and plenty of gas on the accelerator before the engine fired up. He noticed his phone in the footwell and leaned over to pick it up. When he returned upright, he was startled by a shadowy figure that walked through the garage. The poor lighting made it almost impossible to recognise who or even what it was. The figure paid no attention to Grant nor his running engine. He looked down at his phone and switched it on, but by this point, the shadowy figure had disappeared with no sign of which way it went. Grant ignored the image and chose to leave the station. He turned the headlights on and left the garage.

Meanwhile, Damien was taken to the cells with several other prisoners. The custody suite was dimly lit, the tiled walls were damp and the floor cold grey cement. The custody sergeant sat behind a large desk with his feet stretch out, barely awake.

"Toss him in the pen," the sergeant waved to the officers escorting Damien.

The pen was a steal bared area in the middle of the custody suite. Damien entered and took note of his surroundings. There was one wooden bench to share between five grown men. Three scruffy men lay on the floor while another, a large gentleman lay along the bench.

"I believe this seat is for me," Damien leaned over the sleeping prisoner.

"Fuck you," the shabby well-built man replied.

Damien rested his face against the man," I said this seat is mine," Damien's breath scorched the man's face. He coughed under the stench of sulphur from Damien's mouth. The man fell to the floor, rubbing his face and gasping for air. He rolled around and screamed in agony.

"Hey, quite in there," the sergeant shouted from his desk.

"You heard the sergeant," Damien politely spoke. The man quickly silenced. Damien wiped the bench with a piece of tissue he pulled from his pocket and sat down. He crossed his legs and placed his hands on his knee. He kept his posture straight and stared at the wall in front of him. There was a notice board with several wanted pictures of other criminals. Damien had taken a liking to one. Surveillance footage of Dallas with Rebecca, he did not know when the footage was from, but he liked the thought that half the city was looking for him too.

Away from the custody suite, Rebecca was accompanied by Grant's boss. She held a warm cup of coffee in her hands and nervously tapped her heal on the wooden floor. "Please, you need to let me go, I cannot stay in this building while you have that man here."

"You mean Damien," he replied. He placed his hand on her knee to help calm her down, "nothing is going to happen to you here. I have a station full of police officers who will ensure your safety. He is locked up, there is no way he will escape."

"You do not understand, if Damien knows I am here without Dallas then so does Samael," Rebecca dropped her cup, the coffee spilt. "Oh my god, Samael, he is going to come." She was upset with the realisation that it was only a matter of time before Samael came looking for her since Dallas was no longer by her side.

"Rebecca, you must calm down," he grabbed by the shoulders and lowered her down, "relax a little, get some rest on this couch, and we can carry on this discussion in the morning, I can see you are becoming distressed."

"You are not going to leave me alone, are you," she grabbed his arm.

"No, Rebecca, I will have an officer remain in the room all night and another outside the door if that eases your distress." He stood up and walked over to the officer, "make sure she does not leave this room," he commanded.

In the custody suite, there was a small dirty window where the light from the street flickered through. A rat clawed at the window and nibbled on the wooden frame. The sergeant, annoyed by the irritating sound, tapped the window to scare away the little critter. However, a violent gust of window battered against the glass. The rat screeched before it was suddenly trampled by a shadow.

"He's here," Damien's voice whispered into the sergeant's ear.

"Who's here?" the sergeant turned to Damien, who was still in the same position starring at the picture of Dallas. The sergeant was confused, the voice in his ear was too quiet for Damien to be seated so far away. "Hey, I'm talking to you," he rattled the cell bars.

Damien did not speak, he moved his eyes and stared at the sergeant. His eyes glowed red, and he smiled with such wickedness the sergeant was too scared to continue. He walked back to his desk and sat down. Damien turned his head and followed him, he continued to stare at the sergeant.

In the reception of the police station, two ladies of the night sat against the wall both handcuffed to the chairs. A drunk lay passed out only a bench. The walls were littered with flyers for local business' and wanted posters. An old receptionist sat behind a glass plane at her desk. She typed away on her computer to look busy on such a quiet night. The lights in the reception flickered on and off until they burst. The receptionist took no notice, her computer was still working along with her desk lamp. Her attention was also distracted by the music being played through her earphones.

Amongst the darkness, in the reception, a shadow walked through the main entrance. The two women grabbed each other in fear and called out for help. The shadow stepped toward them, and a spark from the broken bulb lit up the shadow. Samael stood over them. He snarled with his razor-sharp teeth and placed his hand over the head of one of the women. He lured at the other as he clenched his fist and shattered her skull. Her lifeless body hung from the chair. The other woman tried to escape but was still attached to the handcuffs. She cried and begged for mercy, but Samael showed her the opposite. He grabbed her around the throat and lifted her into the air, the handcuffs snapped. He licked the side of her face and punched her through the gut to remove her intestines. She coughed up blood, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

Samael dropped the body and turned to the receptionist. He tapped his claw at the window to grab her attention. He waited for a moment, but she remained unmoved. Unbeknown to him, the drunk had seen Samael and decided to try and attack him. He held the bottleneck of his whisky in his hand and smashed it over the head of Samael. Samael barely felt a scratch from the shattered glass, he turned around and grabbed hold of the man before he could run away. Samael crushed his throat and lifted him into the air. He threw the man against the reception glass. The large pane of glass shattered, and the man rolled across the desk onto the floor, into a filing cabinet before bleeding to death. The receptionist was caught by the falling glass with a shard slicing through her neck.

An alarm bell sounded, and the lights throughout the police station cut out, replaced by a pulsing red beacon. The door to the side of the front desk was locked, only a key card would allow entrants. Samael punched the card scanner and kicked the door down. He was quickly approached by two officers, both held their pistols and ordered Samael to remain still. Samael was excited by the attention he was about to receive. He callously smiled and pulled his sword from behind his back.

"Do not take another step," one of the scared officers shouted.

Samael ignored his request and stepped forward. The officers both opened fire, but the bullets ricocheted off his hardened scally skin. He thrust his sword and sliced through the head of one of the officers. The sword pierced through his forehead as far down as his throat. The other officer tried to escape, but Samael quickly pulled the blade from the corpse and stabbed the man through the heart. With the two bodies lifeless on the floor, Samael continued to walk through the corridor. He walked past empty offices until he encountered the odd policeman, when he did, he quickly put them to death with the help of his deadly blade.

At this point, the custody sergeant was aware of the intruder. The prisoners were excited by the sound off police officers dying over the radio. They shouted and banged against their cells. The sergeant walked up to Damien and grabbed him through the bars.

"What the hell is going on," he shouted at Damien. Damien still did not reply, he simply smiled and glared at him. "Fuck," the sergeant swore. He unholstered his pistol and checked it was loaded.

There was gunfire from behind the door to the custody suite, followed by the shrieks of dying men. Blood seeped from beneath the door. The door handle rattled and turned. The sergeant fired six rounds at the door, but it opened regardless. Samael entered the room. The sergeant panicked as he tried to reload his weapon but dropped bullets across the floor. He crouched down to pick them up, but Samael stepped on his hand and crushed his bones. He cried out in agony, the prisoners looked on and laughed, cheering at the pain the sergeant was in. Samael leant down and held him by his skull. He pressed both his thumbs against the sergeant's eyes and squeezed. His eyes balls burst. Samael threw him to the floor and let him squirm in torture.

"Well it's about goddam time," Damien stood.

"You know that beast," one of the prisoners turned to him.

Damien looked at him, and the prisoner's neck snapped. The others began to freak out. If Damien could simply kill a man with one look, none of them fancied their chances. Another prisoner attempted to attack Damien, but he became frozen the closer he got.

"Aren't you a brave little boy," Damien hissed in his face. He looked the prisoner up and down and sniffed him. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me," Damien left the man with a smile.

The prisoner felt a warm sensation under his feet. The ground around him fractured, lava oozed from between the cracks. His feet ignited from the heat. The prisoner screamed inside, unable to move any part of his body. His clothes melted, and his skin blistered as he burst into flames. Damien walked toward the cell door, and it opened. He stepped out and was greeted by Samael.

"Good evening, my Lord," Samael bowed.

"Good evening, Samael, you certainly have created quite a stir. Pardon me let me change out of these horrendous clothes," Damien clicked his fingers, and his clothes were replaced by one of his white pinstriped suits. "Where is the girl?"

"She is on the floor above, there are not many of them left now," Samael replied.

"Very good, take the girl to the house, Judas should be waiting with Katie. Then take yourself to the church, Dallas will be approaching soon," Damien stepped over the lifeless sergeant.

"And where are you going?" Samael followed.

"I have a few mortals to attend to, hurry yourself up I want to burn this place down," Damien left Samael and walked through a back exit, "my bride awaits," the custody suite ignited in flames with the remaining prisoners left to burn alive.

Samael climbed the stairs and found the room Rebecca was hidden in. A few more officers were awaiting Samael. They were heavily armed with assault rifles, they quickly opened fire on Samael. The bullets pierced his skin. He winced at the pain they caused; however, they were not powerful enough to knock him down. Samael held his arms out and roared as he scrapped his claws against the walls. The walls around the officers crumbled, and the ceiling caved in, both were crushed. Samael kicked open the door and entered the room next to him.

"Hello, Rebecca," Samael announced himself.

Rebecca screamed and ran from the couch. She ran to the other door in the room and tried to open it, but the door handle was too hot. She banged at the door several times and called out for help, but there was no one else left alive in the station.

"Try as you might, you cannot escape, your time has come, Rebecca," with each step forward Samael took the ground vibrated.

"If it's Dallas you want, then I do not know where he is," Rebecca cowered against the door.

"Actually, it is your services I require this time," he licked his claw and softly ran it down her cheek. "Do not feel afraid, I will make sure you are given a warm reception when you walk through the gates of our Dark Lord."

"Get off me," Rebecca tried to fight him off.

Samael grabbed her hair and breathed on her face. The stench of sulphur from his breath made her pass out. He picked her up and held her in his arms. He walked through the station as the walls burned. The whole station had succumbed to the fire. Samael entered the reception area and walked through the entrance just as the station exploded. There were several fire engines outside attempting to put out the flames. The fireman jumped for cover as debris hurtled toward them. Samael walked unannounced through the crowds of fireman and took off into the night.

Grant pulled up in his car and ran toward the station. A fireman held him back," Sir, please stand back, I cannot let you any further."

"But those are my men in there," Grant tussled with the fireman.

"With all due respect, you cannot enter, the fire is too strong," he pushed Grant away.

Grant stood with his hands behind his head, his eyes welled up. "Shit!" He shouted and looked away from the fire. Apart from the crowds of onlookers, Grant saw a man in an unusual suit walking away from the flames. He recognised the swagger of the man from the club. Grant knew Damien had something to do with the fire, so gave chase. Before he could catch up with him, Damien had flagged down a taxi and climbed in. Grant ran back to his car to drive after him, but the engine would not start. "Goddamit," he punched the steering wheel. Grant sat back in his car and watched as the station burned to the ground. Grant felt defeated, despite the heavy losses he had suffered before, he always felt as if he still had a chance of catching his target. This time, however, he did not know what he was to do next.

# Chapter 21

Dallas found himself back in the house from where Katie disappeared as a child. Her scream echoed throughout the house. Dallas and Lucas both looked at each other terrified. Donna ran to the front door, but it slammed shut and locked itself. She repeatedly banged her fists against the door and screamed. All the other windows and doors closed shut.

"What was that on the television?" Lucas asked Dallas.

"I don't know," Dallas replied.

"What happened to your sister?"

"I know as much as you do," Dallas replied again.

"What was that behind your sister?"

"Lucas, I don't know, stop asking me questions and find a way out of here," Dallas shouted. "If we both try, we should be able to open the door." They ran to the door, but neither could force it open, Dallas screamed out.

"Dallas calm down," Lucas lay his hand on his shoulder, "there's got to be another way out of here."

A harrowing screech bellowed from the bottom of the basement stairs. The noise became louder and louder.

"Quick the door, close it," Donna pushed Lucas.

He quickly closed the basement door and pressed his body against it. He tried as he might to prevent whatever it was from entering the hallway, but the door flew open, and Lucas was flung across the room into the wall. Samael climbed up the stairs.

Donna held her hand to her mouth, she was overcome with terror. She froze, unable to move. Samael lifted his sword and sliced her across the chest. Blood fell from her stomach and down her legs. She sobbed and held her stomach. Blood escaped between her fingers, and she fell to her knees. Samael swung his sword once more and cut Donna's head from her shoulders. Her head rolled in front of Dallas. Blood splattered across the walls.

Dallas tried again to open the door. With a firm grip, the door finally gave way and opened. Dallas ran out of the house and fled, in a fit of panic he forgot to wait for Lucas and left him alone with Samael. Lucas tried to follow, but Samael stabbed him through his shoulder. He screamed out in pain and fell to the floor. He tried to crawl away but saw Dallas flea back to the village, "Dallas," he cried out.

After another day sailing, Dallas and the others had reached the shore. The boat was anchored to the giant ice shelf for which they had landed. The ice was frozen twenty feet above the ocean. The men had used a rope to climb to the top of the ice. Dallas was the last to reach the top, he was helped up by Philip. The sun was dim and barely reached over the horizon. He was wrapped up in a thick fur coat and walked in heavy warm hiking boots. The cold air was thin and trying to breathe. Dallas was surprised at what he saw before him. Despite the mass of ice, he had just climbed there was more in front. A wall of ice at least a hundred foot high. The wind blew a dusting of frost from the top, and the occasional large piece broke from the wall and shattered below.

The darkness from the sky above cut into a valley that cut into the ice. The valley was wide open with large icicles along the side. No light from the sun made it close to the valley, it lay in the pitch black. Philip walked ahead of the group and stood alone.

"What is he doing?" Dallas asked the others.

"Praying," John replied.

"That sounds promising," he joked.

"There is no harm in asking the Lord for guidance when walking into darkness," John bit back.

Dallas ignored the response and approached Philip, "I am assuming the church is just through there," Dallas pointed.

"Amen," Philip finished praying, "Yes, the church is situated within this valley, I would not go as far to say it is just in there. This valley and those who inhabit it was placed here to prevent anyone from reaching the church. Do not expect an easy passage, Dallas."

"If this last week is anything to go by, I would not expect anything less," Dallas smirked.

"Oh, another thing, the air will become increasingly more difficult to breathe, so keep talking to a minimum, concentrate on walking, not talking." Philip picked up his bag and threw it over his shoulder, "let's go," he shouted to the others.

They walked in single file and headed into the dark valley. The slippery floor was covered with a light dusting of snow. The hiking boots ensured they did not slip. Inside the valley, the wind hollowed. Dallas raised his hood over his head and wrapped his scarf over his mouth to protect himself from the intense coldness. Philip switched the torch on attached to his coat and navigated through obscurity.

Above the ground there were several jagged rocks then men had to be careful not to trip over. The light from Philip's torch reflected off the ice and illuminated small green stones from within the ice. Dallas could see a mile down the valley from the bright rocks. Even though they were in such an inhospitable environment, they had become surrounded by beauty. Dallas stepped close to the ice wall and dragged his fingers along touch the light. However, the ice was colder than it looked, the material of his glove burned away around his fingertips from the intense bitter cold.

"Shit," Dallas winced as he pulled his hand away.

"Try not to touch anything in this valley," James advised.

Dallas held his hand and rubbed his exposed fingertips. His bloodied skin had quickly dried from the cold. Loud creeks echoed through the valley as the ice moved along the ocean. Fragments fell from the top of the valley and crashed below. Dallas looked up to avoid the falling debris, the sky was pitch black with no view of any stars, except for one. A massive bright star was visible directly in front of them.

"The heavens declare the glory of God," Dallas muttered to himself.

"You say something," James asked.

"I feel like a wise man."

"How so?" James lowered his scarf so he could reply.

"Is it not a coincidence that the brightest star in the sky remains directly in front of us. We move slightly right it is there, we move to the left; it remains there also?"

"I believe my brother once spoke, 'the star which they had seen in the East went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was.'"

"A young child?" Dallas stopped walking to think about what James had just said. When he remembered where the sentence was quoted from, he hurried back toward James, "are you trying to tell me Yeshua is waiting for us in the church?"

"Not quite," James smiled with his scarf placed back over his mouth. He turned away from Dallas and re-joined the line.

Dallas was too cold to question James anymore. The wind continued to howl through the valley. They had been walking for almost an hour when there was a violent tremor. A large crack rose across the walls and along the floor. Philip managed to jump over the break before it started to open. The others quickly followed, but Dallas missed his step and fell. The ground below him collapsed, and he scrambled along the floor for grip, but the ice was too smooth under the blanket of snow.

"Help!" Dallas cried out.

Philip dropped to the floor and grabbed hold of Dallas before he finally lost his footing. "Somebody get a hold of his other hand." James took Dallas' other hand and together they both managed to lift him from the gorge that had formed.

Dallas climbed to his feet and stabilised himself, he was shaken up by nearly falling. He brushed the snow from his clothes and turn to see where he had almost tumbled. He was momentarily frozen by the sight before him or lack off. The entire ice shelf behind them had plunged into darkness, it was almost like the ice had disappeared. He leant over the edge and saw the cliff face below. There was no ocean, nor fallen pieces of ice. "What the fuck," Dallas yelled.

James stood next to Dallas and looked below, "it's best trying not to think about," he tapped him on the shoulder. Just as he released his hand, the ground around James gave way. He had no time to grab hold of anything and fell. Dallas tried to take hold of James, but he was lost too quickly to the darkness. In a matter of moment, James was gone.

"James!" Dallas shouted.

"Brother," Andrew scrambled to the floor and hung over the cliff edge but could not see him. He stood up with a look of sorrow and turned away.

"Throw a rope, do something, we cannot just leave him," Dallas shoved Andrew in the back.

"There is nothing we can do, James is gone," Andrew held Dallas by his jacket and threw him up against the wall of ice.

"The water is not that far down, he must still be alive," Dallas fought free from Andrew. He removed his bag and rustled through it to look for a rope.

Philip politely brushed Andrew aside and knelt down to Dallas, "remain calm Dallas, I am afraid our brother James has fallen to an untimely fate. We all knew of the perils that lay before us."

"But what of the rest of the fucking ice. It cannot have just disappeared," Dallas frantically continued to rummage through the bag.

Philip placed his hand on Dallas' hand, "the ice, the ocean, all of it behind us is gone. The closer we get to the church, the closer we fall into Katie's nightmare. She will do whatever she needs to, to ensure we do not make it. Regardless of what happens to any of us, you must continue forward, all that matters is your safety. Yahweh will take care of all of us in the event of our death. Now calm yourself down and get up, we still have some distance to cover."

Dallas took some time to collect his thoughts and control his breathing. He was surprised at how well the others had taken James' death. He secured his bag and returned to the group.

"Shall we," Philip looked to Dallas for the go ahead.

Dallas nodded. They continued through the valley and before long they were once again surrounded by walls of ice. A dense fog settled around their feet. Despite the harsh wind that continued to wail through the valley, it did not disturb the calm fog. The call of a raven resonated around them. It swooped from the top of the ice and down into the valley. It danced between the four of them before it flew away into the darkness.

The thin layer of snow crunched with every step they took. That was until the surface changed. Dallas was unable to see beneath the fog but could tell he was walking on something different. There was a moment of stillness from the wind and Dallas could hear the floor squelch each time he stepped forward. He tried not to let the difference in the ground disturb him too much after all the others had continued. After a short time, Dallas felt his feet fall deeper into the ground, it became more difficult to walk. His foot was almost being pulled to the floor.

"Dallas," he heard Katie's voice reverberate around him. The others did not show any sign they heard her. Dallas kept his head down and tried to ignore her, unlike Dallas, the others did not appear to be struggling to walk. It must have been her making it difficult for him to walk.

"O Lord, my God, I come to you for protection; rescue me and save me from all who pursue me," Dallas prayed to himself, but her voice continued to haunt him.

"Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell," Katie's cold voice froze the ground around Dallas' foot. The fog around him evaporated and revealed marshland. The swap water bubbled as steam boiled into the cold air. Dallas tried to shout to the others but felt his mouth sewn shut. He looked down and saw bodies float underneath the swamp. Each corpse was naked with their eyes scratched out. Their mouths were also sewn. A body floated next to Dallas, and he was horrified at who it was. Rebecca lay still, cuts and bruises scarred her body. There was a ghostly imprint of a baby against the skin of her womb. He reached down into the waters, but her image faded.

Dallas looked up, and Katie rose before him. Her rotten body drenched in swamp water. She held her decaying teddy bear in her left hand. Her hair was thin, and her teeth broken. She raised her right arm and waved him forward, "come to me," she murmured. Dallas was caught in a trance and found himself walking towards her. He stepped through the bodies and put out his hand to greet her.

"Dallas," Philip moved his hand away.

Dallas regained focus and found himself back in the valley with the others. The fog and swamp water had gone. "Katie, she was here," Dallas proclaimed.

"Katie is all around us, she will try to distract you with tricks. You must remain strong, Dallas," Philip held him by the shoulders to steady him. "Now, let's continue."

Another mile walked, and they approached a dead end. There was a tall cliff face for which they would need to climb. Philip noticed a crack in the wall and use a small pickaxe to break away some of the ice to reveal a cavity they could climb inside to take a moment to rest from the cold. Andrew was the first to end the small enclosure and threw his bag to the ground. He pulled out his flask, but the water inside was frozen. "Goddamit," he threw it to the ground.

"Easy brother simply warm the flask under a flame," Philip searched in his bag and found a box of matches.

"You expect to heat up a metal flask with one of those, in this cold," Dallas doubted Philip's optimism.

"I'd welcome other ideas, Dallas if you have one?" Philip pressed the match against the matchbox, but it failed to ignite.

It took several attempts to get the smallest of flames, but a gust of wind quickly put the fire out. He repeated the action with the other matches, but with each flame, a gust of wind was ready to extinguish it. Philip pulled out the penultimate match. Dallas was sat opposite and glanced over his shoulder out into the valley, stood outside he saw Katie's reflection in the ice. She had a malicious look on her face. As Philip lit the match, she exhaled, and the wind blew it out.

"Not going to happen is it," Philip lowered the matchbox to the floor.

"Remember what you said about Katie being everywhere and doing anything to stop us," Dallas pointed his eyes over his shoulder. Philip turned around but could only see ice. "She is outside, Philip."

"Let me try," Andrew took the match from Philip and attempted to light the last one, but he noticed a disturbance in the ice behind Dallas. An older Katie hung naked from a noose in the ice, she stared at him with wide dead eyes. Her skin appeared to be moving, small bumps rose to her mouth and eyes. A fly crept from out her eyelid and scuttled along her eye. She blinked and began to struggle. More flies started to escape from her eyelids, and her mouth until they were coming out from all parts of her body. The flies surrounded her body and crawled all over her. Her pale skin had begun to rot and fester. Chunks of skin broke away from her body and more flies escaped. Her jaw dislocated, and she bellowed an unbearable scream. Andrew dropped the matchbox and placed his hands over his ears. He closed his eyes to ignore the image he knew was not real, but the scream was too much. Andrew opened his eyes, and the flies surround him, he wafted them away, but there were too many. "Fuck off," he shouted. Andrew had enough, he left the crevasse, but the flies followed him.

"What's going on?" Dallas tried to grab Andrew, but he moved too quickly.

"It's her," Philip followed Andrew outside into the valley.

Andrew could not see anything; he felt the flies crawl along his own skin and under his clothes. He could hear them buzzing around in his ears. Andrew hit his ear several times, but the buzzing would not stop. He looked at his palm and watched in horror as they broke through his skin and entered his body. He ran around uncontrollably and clambered into the wall of ice and fell to the ground. His head hit the floor with such force he was knocked unconscious. Philip ran to his aid but the energy in which he hit the wall, unbalanced boulders of ice near the top. The rocks broke free and fell. Philip had to jump away to avoid being crushed, but one landed on Andrew. The solid ice boulder crushed Andrews' head, blood splatted across the floor, and his body shook.

John and Dallas climbed out of the hole and were shocked when they saw Andrew's body. Philip sat next to his body with his head between his legs. John sat next to Philip and comforted him; they spoke no words to each other. Dallas stood over them and saw the dead end was no longer that, the valley had reappeared, with the pathway returned. Philip took the cross from around his neck and placed it in Andrews' palm. He joined his hands on his chest and left his body to rest. He brushed past Dallas and John and continued through the Valley.

"Are we not going to at least bury his body?" Dallas asked.

"There is no time, the longer we stand still, the more tricks she will play on us," John turned to follow Philip.

Dallas shook his head, he started to become concerned at their lack of remorse for their fallen comrades. He knew Katie was watching them and could strike at any time, but he felt it disrespectful to leave Andrew's body alone in the open, there was not much they could have done for James. The wind had now become its worst, jagged specs of ice were blown in Dallas' face, the tiny particles grazed his skin. He raised his scarf further over his face just under his eyes and tightened his hood. Only his eyes were left exposed to the hostile environment. He felt exhausted from the endless walking, there seemed to end in sight. The wall of ice either side seemed the same, it did not feel like they were making any progress.

Between each gust of wind, there was a sudden burst of warm air, the stench of sulphur followed. The settled ice on Dallas' hand had turned to charcoal. He reached down and took a handful of snow from the ground; he opened his hand and grains of charcoal filtered through his fingers. Either side he could see the ice begin to melt away. The walls were sweating. John slipped on the damp surface.

"You see that too," Dallas called out.

"Dallas, ignore what she shows you, just focus on walking," Philip glanced back at him.

The ice started to crack, and large pieces of ice crashed to the floor. Dallas felt a disturbance come from behind. He turned and was momentarily blinded by a bright light. Once the glaze had eased, he saw a massive silhouette of a volcano. The sky had become illuminated by the explosion of lava that had erupted from the top. A scolding plume of hot ash rolled through the valley and approached the group. The ash separated and hugged the walls as it passed around them. The became trapped in a boiling vacuum of ash. Philip stepped back and bumped into the others. They stood back to back with no option of escape.

"What do you suggest now," Dallas said with little optimism. The ash closed in on them. The cloud of ash fiercely spiralled against Dallas' face. He closed his eyes to protect himself but felt his nose heat up as the ash burnt through his scarf. In an instant, the ash vanished, and the ice wall was once again intact, except for in the walls behind them. Dallas had to repeatedly look to try and understand what he could see. "Why are the walls moving?"

Philip pushed past for a better look, "the walls are not moving Dallas," Philip took a couple of strides backwards, "Run!" he shouted and sprinted forward, the other two quickly joined him. Philip was correct, it was not the walls that were moving, small pale undead children crawled along the walls. Their skin was rotten, their hair thin and grey. They were bony and famished, each had wickedness on their faces as they foamed at the mouth with bright red evil eyes. Hundreds of them climbed over each other as they tried to catch up with the group.

"I'm coming brother," Dallas could hear Katie as she waited behind the horde of undead children.

Dallas dropped his bag and hurried to catch up with Philip. The three of them raced through the valley. Behind they could hear the screams of the undead. The pathway began to decline until it was too steep to run anymore, they lost their balance and fell onto their backs. Dallas scrambled to hold onto something, but the surface was too slippery, all three slid down the path. Dallas managed to turn onto his front and watched as the horde of children followed. Their long sharp fingernails made it easy for them to grip against the ice. They quickly clambered down the ice like animals using their nails to propel themselves from the ice. Within moments the children were face to face with Dallas, he winced from the stench of their breath. He attempted to push them away, but he found it too tricky to maintain stability, given how fast he was travelling. One of the children slashed at Dallas and clawed away at his face. Blood seeped from his cheek.

Without warning, the path ended, and they fell over the edge of a cliff. Dallas waved his arms and legs as he fell through the darkness against the wall of ice. Below he could see Philip and John, but above were the hundreds of undead children. Their eyes fixed on Dallas, their arms out, ready to catch him. Dallas crashed into freezing cold water. He plummeted deep underwater. He lost sight of Philip and John. As the children hit the water, they became lifeless, evil removed from their faces, replaced with innocence. No matter how hard he tried, Dallas could not swim upwards. He found himself falling deeper and deeper into the water. Beneath, he saw an endless amount of naked dead bodies wrapped in black nettles. The thorns cut the skin and plumes of black blood were scattered around. Dallas kicked out and screamed before he lost consciousness.

A hand grabbed Dallas by the shoulder and lifted him from out the water. He was thrown to the ground. Dallas coughed several times and threw up water from his lungs, he took a deep breath and woke up.

"What happened," Dallas sat up.

"I would like to tell you, but truth be told, I have no idea. I believe we all saw different things, but all three of us ended up in the water," Philip lit a cigarette and handed it to Dallas, "perhaps this will warm you up."

Dallas graciously took the cigarette shivering, "you mean to tell me you have been holding out all this time," he was relieved from the first puff.

"It's not me or John you need to thank," Philip sidestepped and let another person approach.

Dallas looked up, "fuck me," he coughed.

"Hello Dallas," a tired-looking man greeted him.

"How can this be? Lucas, I saw you die," Dallas was helped to his feet by Philip. He embraced Lucas.

"You thought you did; I do not know why, but I was spared by the beast and found myself abandoned on this desolate island. I have been here ever since," Lucas looked at Dallas with his hands against his face, "it's so good to see you."

"Any suggestion for how I can warm up, I'm soaking," Dallas removed his wet scarf and gloves.

"Here I have started a small fire, sit yourself down, and hopefully you should warm up," Lucas placed a blanket over Dallas' shoulders.

"So where exactly are we?" Dallas sat down and rubbed his hands together.

"Look up," Philip lifted his head.

They were huddled around a fire on top of an ice plateau. Dallas looked up, and the sky had disappeared, the skyline had been replaced by a ceiling made from rock, with small emerald like stones. He could hear the ocean waves crash against the plateau. In front of them was a wooden bridge that suspended over at least a hundred meters. On the other side, there was another plateau of ice, but this one did not touch the waters. It floated mysteriously in the air. To his delight, he finally saw their destination. The large bell tower to the rear of the church almost touched the ceiling. The roof had collapsed, but the stain glassed windows remained intact.

Dallas climbed to his feet, "what are we waiting for," he threw the blanket to the ground.

"Easy now," Philip held Dallas back.

"The church is there Philip, why wait," he pushed Philip away and headed toward the bring.

"Hang on," Philip ran after Dallas and made sure he was the first to step onto the bridge, "If we are going to walk across now then let me take the lead, I shall take the plunge if there are any broken blanks."

Philip stepped onto the bridge, and it creaked as the wind swayed it from side to side. He held tightly onto the rope to keep steady. After a few steps, Dallas was next, followed by Lucas and John. They took their time and slowly moved along. Dallas looked down into the ocean below, the waves were still and the water clear. He saw Rebecca's body floating underneath the water. Her throat was cut, and her burn marks around her wrists. Dallas did not panic; he knew this was another one of Katie's tricks.

They had reached the middle when a plank of wood broke under the weight of Philip's foot. His leg fell through the gap, and his hand slipped from the rope. He held his weight with his other hand. The broken pieces of wood fell into the water and dissolved the image of Rebecca. Philip managed to lift himself up and stop himself from falling.

"Are you ok?" Dallas anxiously watched Philip struggle.

"I'm fine," Philip struggled for a moment, "Just a loose piece of wood, there was bound to be one." He felt his leg and wiped the blood away from his ankle where his trousers had ripped.

Dallas heard the click of a gun from behind. The coldness of a gun barrel rested against the back of his head. He paused and raised his arms into the air without certainty as to why this was happening.

"That's it, raise your arms," Lucas ordered with venom.

"Lucas, what are you doing," Philip steadily turned and held his hand out, "put the gun down." He silently told John to back away, he did not want him to make any rash decisions.

"This son of a bitch left me to die," Lucas cried.

"I thought you were already dead Lucas, I was only a child, what else was I supposed to do," Dallas kept calm and tried not to raise his voice.

"I was a child too, I had to plead for my soul, and what did I get in return? A lifetime in this godforsaken place waiting for your sorry ass," Lucas trembled in his voice, they could all tell he was acting under duress.

"Lucas, there is a way out, you do not have to do this," Philip pleaded.

"And what would you know, I have been promised salvation if I put an end to this expedition."

"Lucas, please, I'm sorry. Come one, we were best friends growing up. Do not let the notion of evil come between us. Lower your weapon, and we can put an end to this misery of yours," Dallas' arms started to tire.

Lucas lowered the gun, "I cried for you Dallas," tears rolled down his cheek. "I have waited here for years, hoping you and your father would come searching for me."

"And here I am Lucas," Dallas shrugged his shoulders.

"Here you are?" Lucas kicked Dallas in the back of the knee to knock him down, "fuck you Dallas," he raised the gun once more.

John reacted quickly and grabbed hold of the gun, he wrestled with Lucas. They both held onto the weapon and were face to face. The gun went off. John released the weapon and stepped back. He held his stomach and felt his blood-soaked clothes. John became weak and tripped over. He lay and the bridge bleeding out. Blood dribbled from the wood and into the water below.

Lucas attempted to fire the gun once more, but Dallas turned and knocked the gun from his hand. Lucas dropped the weapon into the water and lost his balance. He stepped between two planks of wood and fell through the bridge. He held onto a piece of rope and danged in the air.

"Help me," Lucas wept.

Dallas gazed down at Lucas, he did not attempt to help Lucas, "I'm sorry, but your soul cannot be saved."

Lucas lost his grip and let go of the rope. "Dallas," Lucas screamed as he waved his arms and legs and fell to his watery grave. He plunged into the water and quickly sank into the abyss.

"Forgive me," Dallas turned his back on Lucas once more. He stepped over the broken planks and hurried to John, but it was too late, John had bled out.

"And then there were two," Philip calmly continued to walk along the bridge.

"Rest easy brother," Dallas closed John's eyes. He followed Philip to the end of the bridge. As he stepped onto the plateau, he felt an uneasiness like nothing before. Dallas knew his journey was almost complete. In front of the church, a large bare oak tree stood. A lonely Raven was perched on a branch and squawked.

"Shall we enter," Philip pushed open the massive wooden door to the church.

# Chapter 22

Dallas entered the church through the tall wooden doors. He was met with a musty smell, no one had been inside for quite a while. The inside was not quite as lavish as Dallas had thought it would be. He was expecting lost treasures, exquisite painting and luxurious carpets. Instead, the large open hall was bare. The stone floor was dull, with small cracks. The walls were built from thick wooden beams filled in with soil and clay. There were five rows of pews, a bible was placed on each row. Wooden torches were placed around the hall each ignited with a small flame. To the rear of the church was the altar. An effigy of the crucified Christ stood against the back wall.

"Is this it," Dallas wondered around the hall.

Philip closed the door behind him, "what were you expecting, a welcoming party?"

"If this church is supposed to be where I realise my potential and defeat our enemies, then it sure is some anti-climax," Dallas joked.

"My dear Dallas, sometimes we find the greatest of answers in the most simplistic of places," Philip walked around the hall and ran his fingers along the wall.

"So where is it," Dallas shrugged his shoulders.

"Where is what?"

"My destiny, the manuscript, the whole reason I'm here?" he picked up a bible and flicked through the pages before dropping it back onto the pew.

Philip walked to the front pew and sat down, "I have been waiting almost two millennia for this moment, Dallas. I cannot tell you the number of times I have dreamt of seeing you here with me."

"That is all good and well, but what now?" Dallas sat beside him, "where is the manuscript?" Philip remained silent for a moment, "You don't know do you," he smirked. "You son of a bitch, you bring me all the way out here, and you don't even know if the bloody thing is here?"

"The manuscript is not the reason we are here, Dallas."

"It's not?" Dallas looked confused.

"Take a look at the altar and tell me what you see?"

Dallas followed Philip's instructions and approached the altar. There was a stone font filled with water next to the platform. The altar itself was constructed of dark wood with an engraved backboard. A clothed table was at the front with several candles, a dead rose and a large old unopened book. He rested his hand on the leather cover and felt goosebumps along his arm. "Do you want me to read this or something?"

"Just open the book," Philip watched on.

Dallas placed his hand in the middle of the book and lifted the heavy pages and opened it. The paper felt rough and stiff; the book had not been touched for years. He stroked the ink on the pages with his fingers, but he could not understand the words that had been written. "How can I read something I do not understand."

"Do you recognise the handwriting."

Dallas looked closer at the writing and felt his hand move along with the structure of the words. He started to silently mouth foreign words. Dallas closed his eyes and became struck by the image of himself sitting at a table in a room. Dressed in a long grey robe, he held a quill in his hand. Dallas watched as his hand moved and wrote words on the page that he did not understand. Suddenly he dropped the feather and stood from out the chair.

"Are you ok Dallas," Philip asked.

Dallas stepped back from the book and anxiously looked around the hall. Each way he looked; he saw images of the crucified Christ. Dallas bumped into the font, and the water rippled over the edge and trickled onto his clothes. Panic strewed, he leant over the font and cupped his hands to pick up water. Dallas splashed the water over his face. He took a deep breath and investigated the water to see his reflection. Something was unusual, he did not recognise his usual self. He touched his face, and it felt different. The roughness of his beard, the lines under his eyes. His hair felt longer, and his eyes looked wiser. He could feel small scars along the top of his forehead, and in the middle of his palm, he felt another scar in the middle. Dallas looked up at Philip.

"Welcome back, my Lord," Philip stood and walked to Dallas.

"How can this be," Dallas rubbed his palms together and lost his balance. Philip quickly came to his aid and stopped him from falling.

"Take a seat," Philip escorted him to the pew and sat him down.

"I don't understand, are you telling me..." Dallas paused.

"Yes, Dallas, I am telling you, your birth name is Yeshua," Philip was elated.

Dallas sat forward and threw up, he spat the remaining bile from his mouth and wiped his face with his sleeve. "But my father, Alick?"

"He like Joseph was asked to watch over you, admittedly, I would have liked him to have done a better job, but you have made it."

"But I have no memories of the past, I can only remember my life as Dallas Mitchell."

"Your soul has been lost for nearly two thousand years, your physical self was born from your mother and father, but your soul found and embraced the body. We have spent years looking for a sign you were born."

"How did you know I was born?"

"From the moment your soul was lost we have not aged, Yahweh gave us the gift of immortality until your soul was discovered. The moment you were born, our immortality was taken from us. It was just a matter of time from that point that we would find you," Philip placed his arm around Dallas.

"And Rebecca, I know she is of significance, but just how much exactly?"

"Have you never questioned why you have such an attraction to her?"

"What, you want the exact reasons," Dallas blushed.

"That is not what I mean, Dallas. When Katie was murdered her childlike soul became trapped in this world, but like yours, her soul was able to take the vessel of a baby born. However, the Rebecca you know is the embodiment of all that is good in Katie, the other half is embodied in another. An ancient script we call the Jericho Manuscript is engraved onto her body once read it will unlock the evil within, and the daughter of Legion will rise once more."

Dallas jumped to his feet, "so why the hell have you left Rebecca behind, we must leave immediately." He made his way to the exit.

"Dallas stop, I had to bring you here, it would not have been enough for me to simply tell you who you were? Rebecca was safe..."

"What do you mean was?" Dallas interrupted and angerly grabbed hold of Philip.

"He means we have taken Rebecca," Samael stood before them.

"The Lord commands you to leave these holy surroundings, you evil fiend," Philip removed himself from Dallas' hold and stepped in front of Samael.

"Does he," Samael sneered and threw Philip across the room. He crashed through the altar and a broken piece of wood pierced through his chest. His head banged against the wall, and he lost consciousness. "So Yeshua, we finally meet again," Samael stepped closer to Dallas.

Unarmed Dallas quickly moved backwards away from Samael, he tripped over the altar and fell to the ground. He tried to scramble away, but Samael soon hovered over him. Samael pulled his sword from its sleeve and raised it into the air. Dallas looked between Samael's legs and saw the doors were open. He reacted quickly and dived through his legs. Dallas ran toward the exit. Samael turned and raised his arm, which immediately slammed the doors shut. Dallas looked to his right and saw a small statue of the Virgin Mary. She held in her arms a long steel sword, with an emerald encrusted into the handle. He picked up the sword and turned to Samael.

"Brave man," Samael held his sword with both hands and snarled.

A rumble echoed in the cave from which the church was situated. The ceiling fractured, and tiny fragments of ice fell into what seemed like a small calm snowstorm. Dallas circled the church and dragged the sword across the thin blanket of snow. As he passed each torch, the flames intensified. A large piece of ice broke free and crashed through the open ceiling. The beams shattered and almost hit Samael. He took a step to his right and avoided the debris. Dallas used this as a moment to strike and swung his weapon. Samael predicted his move and countered him; their swords clashed. Sparks ignited as the steel touched.

"In all these years you have never beaten me Dallas, what makes you think you can beat me this time," Samael pushed him away.

"There is no one waiting for me, no police ready to spoil the party, only one of us will leave here alive," Dallas steadied himself.

"Good boy," Samael roared and thrust toward Dallas. He aimed for his shoulder, but Dallas quickly rolled along the floor to escape the attack. Samael fell into a pew. Dallas struck and sliced him across his back. His scaly skin broke open and bled. Samael stretched out his leg and tripped Dallas. Samael stepped over Dallas and lowered his sword, but Dallas countered the attack with his sword. They were locked together, Samael tried as he might to press his sword into Dallas.

Another rumble and large ice fragments broke more wooden beams. Samael was distracted, and Dallas forced him away. Dallas swiped his sword and cut through Samael's wrist. He screamed in agony as his hand fell to the ground. Blood sprayed from out his wound. He stumbled backwards and barely managed to keep his balance. Dallas threw more lunges of his sword, Samael attempted to deflect the attacks, but eventually, they were too much for him. Dallas speared Samael through the chest and pressed him up against the wall.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Dallas snarled in his face, "what does it feel like to be bleeding like a mortal."

"Fuck you," Samael coughed blood and kicked Dallas in the groin.

Dallas winced and released his sword; he fell back and held his groin. Momentarily winded, he attempted to catch his breath. Samael grabbed the sword and pulled it from his chest. The blade was drenched in blood. He stumbled and threw his sword-wielding arm forward. Dallas dived for cover on the floor, and the sword clattered against the floor. With Dallas on his chest, Samael regained his composure and placed his foot on his back to prevent him from moving. Dallas struggled, but Samael was too strong.

"The end is here," blood oozed from Samael's mouth. He hovered the sword over Dallas' head and raised it in the air.

Dallas looked to his left and saw Samael's other hand on the floor still with the sword in its grip. He reached out for it and grasped it. With one fell swoop, he cut through the back of Samael's ankles. Samael let out a painful roar and collapsed. Dallas immediately rolled over and replaced the sword in his chest. He moved it upwards and felt it slice through more of his organs.

Despite the pain he was in, the anger did not disappear from Samael's face. "I will come back for you!"

"Submit yourself to God, resist Legion and he shall flee from you," Dallas preached.

"Your words mean nothing," Samael felt a burning sensation from the sword.

"Deliver Samael, O my God, out of the hand of the wicked, out of the hand of the unrighteous and cruel man. Welcome his wronged soul into the kingdom of heaven. Reclaim this fallen angel."

"Go fuck yourself," Samael spat blood into Dallas' face.

"Amen," Dallas smirked and pulled out the sword from Samael.

Samael cried out in agony. His scaled skin began to burn and crumble. The ash blew away and left behind his pale white skin. Within moments this monstrous beast was replaced by a pale skin man. His chest was sliced open and covered in blood. His head fell to one side, and he stopped breathing.

"Philip," Dallas called out.

"I'm here," Philip called out from under the rubble. The cave had started to collapse, the church walls were breaking apart. A boulder broke through a window.

Dallas ran to Philip and moved the broken wood from his trapped body, "hold on Philip." He attempted to move him, but a wooden beam had splinted through his shoulder and trapped him, there was no way of moving him without causing more damage.

"Dallas, you must leave me," Philip held Dallas' hand.

"No, I cannot leave this place alone, where am I supposed to go next?" Dallas moaned.

"Your eyes are open now, my Lord, outside the emerald pillars await you. Take your leap through and there you will find Katie. Remove the evil that lies within her soul, and you shall return to this world," Philip groaned in pain.

"And what of you," Dallas felt Philip's grip loosen, his body slumped, and he passed. Dallas was once again alone. More and more boulders fell from the cave ceiling. Small fragments of emerald stones littered the floor. He ran to the exit and burst through the doors. Before him, he saw a glorious sight. Two tall emerald pillars and grew from out the ground five feet apart. Between the pillars, the environment was warped. He walked to the pillars and felt a vibration run through his body. He placed his hand on the pillar and saw an image of Rebecca. She was blindfolded and tied to a chair. Dallas knew he would find her if he took one step forward. He placed his hand between the pillars, and it disappeared into nothingness. With a deep breath and the ceiling caving in, he looked back at Philip's lifeless body and stepped between the pillars.

# Chapter 23

Katherine stood in her bedroom and looked at herself in her mirror. She wore a tight red dress and had curled her long dark hair. Her lips were polished with bright red lipstick. While she was nervous about going out with her brother, she had hoped it would bring a sense of normality to what had been a crazy few days.

"You ready yet," Jarvis shouted from downstairs.

Rebecca bit down on tissue to dry her lips and walked downstairs. Jarvis waited for her along with their parents.

"Well, look at you," her mother was delighted to see her daughter looking so healthy.

"Are you sure you should be going out dressed like that," her father held the opposite opinion.

"Ignore your father, you look lovely," she hugged Katherine, "now go and have some fun."

"You heard her, let's go, the taxi is waiting," Jarvis opened the front door and held it for Katherine.

Katherine opened her handbag and checked she had her purse, she looked up and saw the empty taxi waiting, "where are your friends?"

"They are waiting for us in the pub," Jarvis gently pushed Katherine out the door and closed it behind them, "don't wait up," he shouted. They ran across the driveway and jumped into the black taxi. Once both were inside, the cab pulled away.

Parked a couple of houses away, Grant sat slouched in his car seat. He was still wearing the same clothes he wore at the station fire; his face was unshaven and had not slept since. Grant took a swing from a half-empty whisky bottle and watched Katherine climb into the taxi. He screwed the bottle top on and started the engine. He allowed a moment for the cab to leave before he slowly pulled away and followed Katherine.

Back inside the house, Katherine's parents settled together in front of the television. They poured each other a glass of wine and kicked off their slippers. Her mother climbed into the arms of her father, and they enjoyed the peacefulness in the house. A warm gust of wind blew through the house. Her mother became distracted by a tap at the window, outside a raven had perched itself on the windowsill. It softly tapped at the window with its beak. The raven stared at her mother and squawked before it flew away.

The firewood in the fireplace began to smoulder. The smoke twirled around each other and danced through the living room. Both parents sat up disturbed by the unusual movement of the smoke. Small flames burned underneath the firewood igniting a foul stench of sulphur. The lights in the living room dimmed and started to flicker. The television lost its signal, and the screen cracked. They both heard the back door open and slam shut, as all the locks in the house locked.

"What the hell are those pair up to, they are supposed to be at the pub," her father angry climbed to his feet and walked into the kitchen, "Jarvis is that you?" He entered the empty dark kitchen.

There was another gust of wind and the fire intensified. The candles along the fireplace burned bright. The wine glasses vibrated on the table and slowly moved on their own. Her mother attempted to stop the glassed falling but was too slow. They shattered and spilt wine all over the carpet. She tried to shout to her husband but found herself unable to. She tried to open her mouth, but it would not budge. She pressed her fingers against her face and could not feel her lips. With a glace in the mirror, she saw the lower part of her face was featureless, her mouth had disappeared. She ran into the kitchen and found her husband in the same distress. They both panicked and attempted to open the back door.

Every lightbulb in the house exploded, and they were eclipsed in darkness. The cooker knobs turned, and the smell of gas filled the room. They peered into the living room, and from out the fire, they saw Katie walk out in her dirty dress, holding her teddy bear. She looked back at them.

"Burn," Katie smiled with her evil look.

The flint in the cooker ignited the gas, and they became embroiled in an inescapable ball of fire. The intense heat blistered and melted their skin. The fire roared through the house and burst from out the doors and windows. A fireball exploded into the air, and their bodies were incinerated.

# Chapter 24

"Here you go, Katherine, this should help you relax," Jarvis handed Katherine a shot of vodka. She took the drink from him, and he gave his two other friends, Naomi and Liam one. Liam looked almost identical to Jarvis while Naomi was a short dark haired glamourous looking young woman.

"Thank you," Katherine accepted the drink. They were sat in the corner of a busy pub in the centre of the city. Young thirsty club goers were starting their night drinking cheap beer before heading out to the clubs. The faint music from the jukebox was outdone by the chatter of the customers.

Away from the foursome, Grant stood at the bar and held a glass of whisky. He swirled the ice around in the glass and drank. The collars on his jacket were up to disguise his face, as he kept a close eye on Katherine. Grant rested his elbow on the bar, but it slipped, and he split his drink.

"Excuse me, sir, but I think you have had enough," the old barman took way the empty glass.

"I'll tell you when I have had enough," Grant slurred his words.

"If you say so," the barman shrugged his shoulder and poured Grant another drink, the pub was already busy with drunken people, the last thing he wanted to do was cause an argument.

Katherine got up from the table and walked to the bathroom with Naomi. Grant quickly drank his refreshed drink and followed. The girls slowly walked through the corridor and swerved around chatting teenagers. Grant stalked Katherine and waited outside the female toilets. Inside, Katherine used the cubical and sat down. Before she finished, she heard the small footsteps of a little girl. A shadow appeared in front of the cubicle, followed by the bare feet of a child.

"Go away, go away," Katherine closed her eyes and placed her head between her legs. She continued to repeat herself until there was a knock at the door.

"Are you ok, Katherine," Naomi asked as the feet disappeared.

"I'm fine, sorry I was just checking my bag," she lied. Katherine walked out of the cubicle and washed her hands.

"Who were you talking too?" Naomi asked.

"Nobody, I didn't say anything," Katherine ignored Naomi's confused look and left the bathroom. Naomi smirked and followed her. Outside in the corridor Grant tapped Katherine on the shoulder.

"I know your secret," he whispered in her ear with his alcohol-fuelled breath.

"Excuse me?" Katherine turned around.

"I know you're involved," Grant stumbled.

"Hey, back off," Naomi interrupted and pushed Grant against the wall.

"Get your hands off me, little girl," Grant fumbled for his police badge but dropped into onto the floor, before he could pick it back up, it was kicked away by others in the corridor.

"Come on, let's leave this creep alone," Naomi linked arms with Katherine and escorted her back to Jarvis, "guys finished your drinks and let's move on, there are some right creeps in here tonight."

"As you wish," Jarvis and Liam both quickly finished their drinks and were ready to leave.

"Where are we going next?" Katherine asked her brother.

"There's a new club up the road we want to try out, plays all sorts of music we can dance to, it should be a laugh."

Dallas opened his eyes and found himself stood on the outside an endless field of wheat. He was near a small county road, the tarmac sweated under the intense midday sunlight. The blue sky was clear of any clouds. Next to him was a tall pole with a street sign at the top, 'Emerald Street', on top there was an unlit gas lantern. Across the road stood on its own was the house Dallas and Katie had entered all those years ago. Dallas smirked to himself and found a packet of cigarettes in his pocket. He opened the sleeve, and there was one remaining stick. He picked it out and the cigarette lit itself. Dallas knew it was Katie, but he urged the need for nicotine so continued to smoke. He spent a few minutes trying to decide what the best action to take was.

The wheat swayed in the wind and the sky darkened. Darkness swept through the corn, and the crop began to die. A crackle of thunder echoed. The last crop collapsed at Dallas' feet. He threw his cigarette to the floor, and it was doused by the incoming rain. The lights in the house switched on, and the silhouette of Katie appeared in the window in the attic.

"Here goes," Dallas murmured to himself and walked across the road. Cracks appeared in the tarmac and stream evaporated as the rain cooled the road. He opened the small rusty gate and stepped into the front garden. The ground to the side of the house and behind began to break away and collapse. The fractured floor reached as far as the road before it stopped. The house remained intact and was suspended above an abyss of darkness. Dallas sluggishly walked up to the steps to the porch. After each step, he could hear Katie's laughter. When he reached the top, the front door crept open.

"Welcome home brother," Katie's voice spoke.

Outside the club Grant was in the front of the line to enter, he propped himself up against the wall. The doorman waved him forward and told him to hold his arms out so he could search him. During the search, he found Grant's handgun.

"I'm a cop," Grant continued to slur his words.

"Have you had a drink tonight, sir," the doorman asked politely.

"I'm a cop, let me in. Otherwise, I will get this place shut down and get your sorry ass thrown in jail," Grant pressed his finger on the doorman's chest.

"I don't care who you are, your drunk sir, I'm not letting you in," the doorman pushed Grant out of the queue.

"Who do you think you are," Grant pushed back.

"Touch me again, and I'll break your arm," he threw Grant to the floor, much to the delight of the others in the queue who laughed at Grant's misfortune.

"I don't need you, I'll get her," Grant stumbled away from the queue but saw someone he recognised join to the rear. "You," he staggered back toward the club, but the doorman was quick to react.

"Go home, sir," they restrained him.

"You, you did it, you killed them all, you bastard," he shouted at the Damien. Damien looked up and smirked in his bright white pinstriped suit.

"Calm down, sir," the doorman released Grant and continued to push him away again.

"Him, you cannot let him in, he will kill them all," Grant cried out.

"Do you know him?" Another doorman asked Damien.

"I have never seen that gentlemen in my life, perhaps you should let me straight into the club before he tries to attack me again?" Damien glared at the doorman and quickly persuaded him.

"Right this way sir," he let Damien to the front of the queue so he could enter the club.

Grant walked away and kicked a parked car, "those idiots, do they not know what they have done?" he moaned to himself.

The door closed behind Dallas. Dust settled on the walls within the small corridor. The dull striped wallpaper peeled from the walls. Black and white photos were stuck to the walls, each contained different pictures of Dallas' childhood with Katie. One with them playing outside the church, another at the dinner table, all the photos were innocent. Dallas was unnerved by the last picture, Katie was on the garden swing, but the image was moving. Her eyes had been burnt out, and ghostly screaming faces appeared within the bushes behind her.

Dallas walked along the corridor and peered into the living room. The sofa was covered up with a blanket, so too was the television. There was a rug in the middle of the room covered with blood stains. He continued along the corridor and entered the kitchen. The window was blacked out with newspaper. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink. The fridge door had been left open, and rotten food lay inside with maggots feeding. At the bottom of the fridge was a large glass jar, inside a picked dead foetus.

"Come on," he heard Katie's voice followed by footsteps. Dallas left the kitchen and walked toward the stairs. He looked up and saw the silhouette of Katie quickly ran away. He grabbed hold of the handrail and carefully walked upstairs.

"Help," Rebecca's voice quietly cried out.

"Rebecca!" Dallas shouted. He could not see where the voice came from. Once he arrived at the top of the stairs, he walked into the bathroom. The toilet seat was up, and brown water festered from the toilet. The unclean shower curtain was wrapped around the bath. Water ran from the taps, and the tub overflowed. Dallas stepped through the puddles of murky water. He was wary of what he may find behind the curtain. A deep breath and he pulled open the curtain. The bath was empty. A spider failed in its attempt to climb from out the tub. The taps were rusty and had not been used for a while.

"Dallas," Katie's voice repeated.

He looked at the mirror above the sink and saw her reflection in the bath, her small naked body lay in a pool of cloudy water. Her throat was cut and her head bald, she smiled as a cockroach crawled from out her mouth. Dallas quickly turned, but the bath remained empty. Rain hammered against the windows and thunder rumbled throughout the house.

He left the bathroom and approached the only bedroom. The door was closed, and a light pulsed from underneath. He grasped the door handle, but the metal burned his hand. He picked out a piece of tissue from his pocket and wrapped it around his hand and attempted once more to open the door.

Inside Dallas found a clean, tidy bedroom. A large double bed rested against the window. The curtains were drawn shut. He walked along the varnished wooden floor and to the dresser. There was another black and white picture, this was different from the others. First, it was framed, but only Katie appeared in this picture. She stood alone with her back to the camera under a streetlight, in one hand she held her teddy bear, and in the other, she held onto the hand of a large unknown shadow. Next, to the picture, there was a small golden cross attached to a necklace, along with a single girl's black shoe.

Behind Dallas heard a rope tighten. He turned to the sound and saw a body suspend from the ceiling with a noose around its neck. The body was already dead, in fact, it appeared to have been dead for a while. Dallas inspected the male body and moved its open shirt as something was carved into its chest. 'Judas' had been scared into the body's chest. Perhaps he had outgrown Katie's use.

"Worthless bastard," Dallas brushed past the body. There was nowhere else for Dallas to look, that was until he heard Rebecca's cry once more. Then Dallas remembered the basement, where all this started. He raced downstairs and into the hallway. There was a closed door underneath the stairs. He tried to open the handle, but it was locked. He shoved it several times, but it would not budge. He tried one last time, and before he made contact, the door simply opened.

Katherine danced in the middle of the dance floor; her body moved with the beats of the music that played inside the club. Naomi and Jarvis were embraced in a sensual hold. Liam edged closer to Katherine and tried to copy Jarvis. She was smitten by the attention but pushed him away.

"Behave yourself, Liam," Katherine giggled as she felt his hand once more caress her waist. She reached behind to hold his neck, but he felt different from what she had seen. She turned around and was surprised when she saw Damien stood behind her.

"Whoops, sorry," she playfully exclaimed.

"Hello, my queen," Damien lovingly stroked her face.

"Hey, get off her," Liam tried to interject. He grabbed Damien by the arm and tried to pull him away. Damien lifted his arm away and pushed Liam to the floor.

Katherine quickly knelt to his aid, "are you ok?"

Embarrassed Liam jumped to his feet, "who the fuck are you," he pushed Damien in the chest. Jarvis and Naomi hurried over to help their friends.

"Your worst nightmare," Damien picked up Liam and crushed his throat.

"Liam!" Katherine screamed.

Liam kicked out and tried to escape Damien's hold, but he was too strong. His neck snapped, and his body drooped. Blood poured from his mouth. Damien threw his body across the dance floor into unexpecting dancers. His lifeless body was meet with screams and cries from the partygoers. The entire club became incensed with panic and disorder. The music continued to play, and the strobe lighting remained. Jarvis tried to help his friend and threw a punch at Damien. Damien stumbled backwards but immediately fought back, he punched Jarvis in the stomach, and his fist exited through his back. Jarvis gasped for breath as he felt Damien remove his fist. He coughed up blood and tried to hold onto Damien but was thrown to the floor next to his friend.

"Come on," Naomi grabbed Katherine and attempted to escape. They were caught in a stampede of fleeing partygoers. Damien picked up Naomi by her hair, she kicked and screamed but was unable to leave his grasp.

"Do not interfere, little girl," he used both hands to snap her neck and dropped her body. Katherine was left on her own. Most had managed to leave the club unharmed. A panic strewed Katherine had collapsed to the floor, too scared to run away.

"Leave me alone!" she wept.

"My dear, you do not need to fear me," he walked up to her.

"No, no," she tried to scramble away. Suddenly she felt the veins in her arms pulse stronger than usual. Her vision became blurred. Stood next to Damien, she saw the faint image of Katie clutching onto his leg.

"You are my bride," he managed to grab her before she could escape. Katherine struck him with blows from her fists until she became exhausted. Damien caught her as she fainted, he picked her up in his arms and carried her toward the exit.

Sulphur reeked from out the basement, Dallas coughed and wiped his eyes from the intense heat. He walked down into the darkness, unable to see a thing. His foot touched the basement floor, and a lone light bulb switched on. The room was empty, the damp brick walls were coated in mould. Against the back wall, Dallas saw Rebecca. Dressed in a short ripped, dirty nightgown, with her face blindfolded. Her arms were spread open, and her wrists were tied to posts that had been nailed into the wall. Her feet had been bound together, and she hung from the wall in the shape of a cross. Both her wrists were cut, and blood dripped into two stone bowls underneath.

"Rebecca," Dallas called out, he tried to approach her, but he felt a force push his body back.

"Your too late brother," Katie stepped out from the shadows. She stood underneath the light and sat cross-legged on the cold floor. "Judas has already read the scripture inscribed on your dear Rebecca, once the blood has drained from her body and her soul has diminished, I will be ready to take upon my vessel."

"Katie, you do not have to do this," Dallas pleaded.

"Plead with me all you like brother, it will not work, I have waited two thousand years. Damien waits for my return, together, we shall reign fire upon your world."

Damien walked from outside the club and was surrounded by tens of police cars. Blue lights lit up the sky, police officers stood to attention, dressed in raincoats to protect themselves from the torrential rain. Their weapons were aimed at Damien. Hordes of onlookers were kept back behind the police. A drunken Grant was stood beside the police hidden.

"Release the girl," a policeman ordered.

Damien raised his arm to shield his eyes from the bright lights that were shone on him, "come on, Katie, what are you waiting for," he stared at the unconscious Katherine.

"I repeat, release the girl. Otherwise, we will have to use force," he warned.

Damien looked up and glared at his enemy. He stretched out his hand, "burn," he spoke. All the weapons heated up and were too hot to hold. Each officer dropped their gun. Unarmed no one knew what to do next. They attempted to pick up their weapon, but the heat remained. Grant jumped from out the shadow with a baseball bat in his hand and ran toward Damien. Before he could swing Damien spotted Grant and forced him to stop. Grant was unable to move. Damien closed his first and Grant became suspended in the air. He felt his bones start to crunch together. His fingers bent backwards; his arms fractured. Grant cried out in agony. His kneecaps shattered and his ankles twisted. Suddenly all his bones dislocated. Damien released his fist and Grant's broken body fell into a heap on the floor. Blood was drawn from out his body and surrounded him in a puddle. He was barely alive. Damien stepped toward Grant and raised his foot. He crushed his skull with one menacing stamp.

Katherine suddenly woke, her eyes rolled back, and her arms flung out. Her skin started to sparkle, and a light shone from out her mouth. The onlookers had to look away from the brightness.

Damien became overjoyed, he stroked the side of her face. "Welcome back, my bride."

Dallas attempted several times to break through the invisible barrier, but nothing would work. Katie stroked her bear and repeatedly laughed at his failed attempts. Rainwater had started to trickle into the basement, and the sound of thunder had increased. The air in the room became hotter. Dallas became soaked in sweat from the heat. Molten rock oozed from out the cracks in the walls. Cries from women and children echoed around Dallas.

"Time is almost up," Katie smiled. The ground shook, and debris fell from the basement ceiling. A rat wandered across the floor and hurried through the barrier. Katie reached out and grabbed it. It tried to wriggle free and gnawed at her arm. She flinched and took returned a bite of her own. The rat squealed as she repeated bite the rat at the back of the neck until it was lifeless.

Dallas closed his palms together and closed his eyes, "Father, I come to you today, to ask for protection from evil. Surround me in your divine strength, provide me with the power to overcome this barrier of malevolent evil. I sacrifice my blood to save the blood of another." Dallas took a small knife from his pocket and slowly cut his wrist. "Amen," he dropped the knife and let the blood trickle down his hand. He fell to his knees as the blood swept along the floor.

"What are you doing," Katie panicked.

Dallas collapsed, and his head bounced off the floor. He held out his arm and watched as the last remaining blood left his body. Rebecca woke to the blindfold. She was unable to move and started to scream. Rebecca thrust her head from side to side and managed to lower the blindfold. In front of her, she saw Dallas motionless with Katie sat in front of him. The blood had dried from her wrist.

"Dallas," Rebecca called out.

Katie turned, "no, this cannot be, you cannot wake," she stood and ran to the empty bowls. The blood has vanished, "they're empty," she cried. The house began to shake again with more dust falling from the ceiling. "No, you cannot do this, this was not supposed to happen," Katie looked at her hand as it started to disintegrate into ash. Slowly each part of her body crumbled. First, her arms fell apart. Both her legs dried up and fractured. She fell, and a plume of ash rose from her legs. She lay on the floor with only her torso and head left. She wriggled as the ash rose through her chest, her organs fell from her body and disintegrated. Her hair aged and fell from her head. Soon only her face remained. "I will not lie, I shall return," her face crumbled and only a pile of ash was left.

Suddenly the light from Katherine vanished, and her skin was no longer sparkling, it became pale and cold. Her body limped; her chest no longer moved. Finally, her hair turned to grey. "No," Damien shock her body, "Katie!" he cried out. He dropped her body to the wet floor and leant over her.

The officers saw their guns were no longer hot, one picked his weapon up and opened fire at Damien. Damien was taken back by the shots; he was hurt by the bullets as they ruptured his skin. Something had changed, he had not felt pain like that before. Damien tried to stand and raise his arm, but another officer fired his weapon. He stumbled backwards and fell into the wall behind. He reached down and felt the blood seeping through his shirt. He tried to take one final step forward, but a flurry of shots was unleashed. Damien was bombarded with firepower. Damien slumped to the floor with his arms to his side. His head slouched forwards and watched as he bled to death. He would no longer walk the earth.

Dallas opened his eyes, before him, a blurry figure stood, "our lord, thanks you for your great sacrifice, but your time is not yet," he recognised the voice of Alick.

"Father?" Dallas was bewildered. He sat up and shook his head, but he was still unable to see correctly.

"You have done it Dallas," Alick's figure slowly moved away from Dallas.

"Don't leave," Dallas held his arm out.

"You do not need me anymore; you have shown us all you are ready. Collect your bride, and together you shall lead mankind into a new dawn," Alick disappeared. Dallas' vision returned. He saw the pile of ash before Rebecca as she continuous called his name.

"Dallas," she cried once more. The house shook violently, the walls cracked, and the ceiling was breaking apart. He stumbled to his feet and ran to Rebecca. He managed to untie her, and she fell into his arms. They embraced for a moment.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered into her ear. He propped her up with her arm over his shoulder and helped her climb the stairs. As they reached the top, a plume of ash rose from the basement. Cutlery in the kitchen smashed across the floor. The bed fell through the ceiling into the living room. Dallas hobbled along the hallway and kicked the front door open. He saw the ground outside begin the breakup. They both staggered down the porch steps and across the front garden.

Dallas threw himself and Rebecca across the road into the dead wheat field. He rolled over and watched as the house collapsed in on itself. The ground broke away and fell into the abyss below. From the void, a flock of ravens flew away into the sky. With each flap of their wings, the blue sky gradually returned. Dallas looked on as the wheat returned to life. With little energy, he lay back next to Rebecca. They both lay still and stared into the blue sky.

Rebecca was the first to move, she climbed to her feet, "so what took you so long," she laughed and helped Dallas to his feet.

He did not reply to her. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and held her, "I thought I had lost you," he kissed her passionately.

They broke away from each other and glanced across the endless field. "So, what now?" Rebecca asked.

"I guess we find a way home," he held her hand and together they walked through the field. Rebecca lovingly stroked his arm and lay her head against his shoulder. They both walked away from Emerald Street. One last raven flew from out the abyss and perched upon the street sign. It rustled its feathers and starred out into the field, in the reflection of its eye Dallas unaware of Katie beside him.

