(GE Copy)

Chapter 7: The Seven of Fate (Part 2)

“...Or the shatter of the world in my desperation, to make ends of me where I stand, bleeding.”

“Bites when it happens to you, huh?...” The contractor mentioned as Aaron walked into the open air of the city rooftop. “You’ve learned a lot from them about how to disrespect people.”

Aaron found two chairs parked by the edge, overlooking a grassy patio rooftop across the street. His ‘friend’ standing along the roofs edge. “Careful now,” Aaron warned the sitting turd. “That ledge there, be a shame if you did a flip, I might actually have something decent to remember you by.”

“Huh...” The contractor sighed, taking a peek down below, smirking for a moment and wiping his head he started to laugh. Laughing more wildly by the moment. “Hey... You got a real talent kid... Shit, man... I'm still tickling myself over that funeral punchline you gave me the other day. Sure had me worked up until after lunch break. Sat there feeling miserable, looking real lovingly at those straight razors... Then, imagine this... It dawned on me what you said and I gotta say...” Turning to Aaron, holding his hand out to shake the boy’s own. “I ain't heard an upbeat joke like that in a long time. You ever think about doing comedy?”

“What, is that your shtick this time?”

“Look kid, we got a sense of humour so it’s nothing new, but that... What you said just there, that was priceless. You know what, I know this guy, you’d love him, really. He ain’t got much to say, but when he does it's right out of left field and gets me every time. A real down to earth kind of guy that holds no punches with being blunt. It's hilarious. Middle of a shit storm, you gotta imagine this, hellfire is raining down upon the earth, people screaming, brimstone, the whole works, yadi yada. Cracks open a can of beer and says something so crudely fitting, just out of nowhere. Like... Look... Look... Aw, shit, I can't do it justice, but it's fantastic.” Stopping to prepare himself. “Nah, I still can't do it. You'd love him though...” Taking another wild recalling of Aarons ‘totally intended’ shitty funeral joke. “Ahh... Potty humour never goes out of style.”

“I wish you would...” Peeking over the edge “Say, I know you’re the height of a bag of rice, but it’s be a shame if you landed down there on your head.”

“Believe me kid, I would love be sitting back with a frothy mug of fresh Ceriyah piss right now, but I'm here on official orders, personal body guard to the comedian himself. You wanted a taste of reality without the purchase, well, you're about to witness your free sample. No membership or credit card required. I should warn you though...” Pulling back his cigar. “They said I should escort you elsewhere, that I'm not capable of defending against a battle monster like one of the seven... You know, should something go arye. But here I am, watching the fireworks just like it's the beach at Pearl Harbor... You gotta understand one of these days boy, what the jokers on the field are actually capable of. The potential of men. Today looks like that day. Yes sire, ego fed, superstars campaigning around like they're the parasite in the ocean that's gonna kill the great mastodon. Each one a nobel, but it ain't coz their daddies are fisting the golden cash cow for milk. Not all of them at least. No one writes who the seven are, because they never specified it when they gave the prophecy. It basically comes down to word of mouth, like anything else, the loudest showboat seems to be appointed like the law only applies to them. In reality, the seven could be anything, maybe a midget, or a furry woodland animal for all we know. Just get up on the soab box, and before you know it, you're a millionaire... Hell, when the time comes, my money's on the hornet that lives in the queens ass. Probably works the old parrot like a marionette. Theory is, she got a mighty big fanny she wears, but I've never seen under it.” Going for a puff, but stopping to clarify “Trust me, I've tried.” Taking another huff. “Who says she ain't packing a wasps nest under that old kilt. Heck though, if the loudest one ain't the guy climbing on top of a bed of corpses. Thousand years is a long time to stock up warriors. Average life span doesn't quite cover it, not since the old days. You'd think after the first hundred years they'd catch on that it wasn't happening for a while... But, old Ragnarok's just around the corner, just like it was a thousand years ago.”

“Seems a little too nice for you to be telling me all this, I haven't been pulling you by the ball hairs, and make you desperate have I?”

“You've been doing it for a long time, like a damn lion tamer. Some days, you got your head in my mouth, and I just wanna see what colour comes out but I can't... Always gotta be your way or the highway and as far as my boss see's it, I ain't getting my picture on no damn milk container.” Grumbling, as he fixed a new roll of leaves from his case.

The contractor’s mind moved like clockwork, passing between his short supply, and the late appearance. He looked out to Aaron, whose sight darted around for escape. Letting out a sigh, the Contractor continued. “You’re nervous, I get that...” Putting his case back into his pocked. “If you want an answer that'll put you at ease, it's Kastala, that's the real eye candy I'm sitting here for. Oh, to be the grain of sand that gets caught between her thighs... But ain't no time to admire the roses if you gotta take the kid back to the car, so we're camped out here. You understand? No kicking and hollering, daddy’s got a show to watch.” Shaking his head, Aaron sat there, still uninterested despite the claims.

“Man...” The contractor continued, his mind overflowing with the thoughts of the coming show. “A look at her could straighten out the wrinkles on old Emporor Ceasars' statue. Really, increase the stone density, and all that. She's hispanic you know, not that you could tell, probably sees less sunlight than a grave keeper. She got that genetic figure though, bone lines and all. Curves that could put a seasoned rock singer into a cardiac arrest. Yes sir, she could probably impale Dracula's heart with his own dick, like some twisted babirusa boar.” Mimicking some comedic vamper death scene. “Now ain't that a wooden stake for ya! But I ain't here to make knob jokes, hard enough to focus thinking about some other dude, unless you're into that thing.” Stepping two feet away “Which fine if you are... Just don't talk me ear off when she shows up. There’s already one too many peckers up here for my liking as is. Oh, looks like our first appearance. And it’s my least favourite of the whole council. When it comes to sucking, hes got the highest horse power motor behind his mouth. And then there’s what comes out of it. What a crock of shit. BOOOO!”

“Quite the show you got here.” Aaron tickled himself. “Gotta say, you blew it though, first mistake was blowing the fourth wall. The one in front is either your guy, or the whole deal is staged. So, what does it matter what you put on the stage? I’ll give you this, you sure went all out this time, six more actors supposed to jump on stage and start doing the locomotion or something?”

“HA! That’s the best part! You have no idea what’s riding down on this, so you better believe we’re going all out kid! You think they can see us here? You think they can hear us here? They can’t! Make all the better when Kastala shows up, she can’t see you waving Ol’ Devito around the place. See, boss isn't the trusting type when happenstance waves it's ugly head around. He believes in me, why else pick me for this job... But chance is an ugly thing.” Shaking his head. “Chance turns good men into monsters.” He said sternly, as a grave seriousness befell his voice. “One day, the dice rolls you a one, such a shame... The beautiful loving angel of a woman is injured, the next one rolls out and it's snake eyes. What an even greater pity. Before you know it, kid's growing up with a mean drunk coz the booze ain't fixen what's broken in there. That's the ugliness of chance. Be nice to choose, too, right? You ever loose someone dear to you? I like you to tell me after something like that, that you really choose to feel happy about it. I hope you get spared that trouble, but it hits everyone the same. Long as chance ain't an issue, you got a good seat right here... But remember what I said about daddy’s show, keep it down, even though they can’t hear you but I can... Oh, and speaking... Second guy is making his play, seems like they know each other.”

“And who’s that one Mr. Playwrite.”

“I’m a dramaturg, not a playwrite, I call out the bullshit like foghorn over there. YOU SUCK FOGHORN! Ahem... Gotta test the walls before you use them, you know? Can’t say much other than he’s new on the roster. Dalmayo used to be a nobody back in the day... Must have been a death in the family so to speak. I’d call that suspicious if it didn’t happen thirty seven times now... And It’ll happen thirty seven more times before next Friday.”

“What’s cracken little man!” Aaron’s ears were caught off guard, as the contractor beside him shot a pale colour that even Aaron could identify. “I should have known a guy like you wun’t no Finite’ but funny you up here catching in on the action that Stagnas been offered.” Dark skin and blue hood. The sound of quiet music playing around his shoulders, that came through very clearly. “Who’s your friend? I don’t think I’ve seen him around... But,” Smiling wildly. “I don’t really go looking.”

“I’m going to have to calmly ask you to carry on your way.” The contractor asked, like the ghost had been tickled right out of him.

“Well, one dark skin to another... Man... Get the fuck out of my way. I got a party to get to...” Walking onto the roofs edge. “Oh... And don’t worry about me seeing you up here catching a glimpse, you ain’t the only bird on the powerline today. Though I’ll say I didn’t feel you out which is pretty impressive. Just chance I grabbed the wrong roof, really. ‘Sides, was hoping to avoid this very thing.” Getting ready to leap the building. “Shit, I get it... Ya’ll here to watch when Kastala shows up ain’t ya? Me too. Thought about blowing’em all off, but you know I gotta make an appearance when she’s around. Know what I’m saying?”

Snuffing a set of chuckles out his nose, the contractor returned favour “Quite well in fact. Now, lest you like being amidst a crowd when you pop one out, I suggest you get own own show room.”

“Fair with you. Kid, eat up. There’s more yet to come.” Taking off across the rooftops, Aaron felt a deep concussion ripple through him though no sound could be heard.

“See what I mean about chance. Boss don’t like shit like that creeping up from behind... Birds, eh?... There’s gonna be a lot of cookies and cream to clean off the sidewalk tonight. You mind locking that door before someone else comes up here selling car insurance? Consider it your entrance fee. I know we said we ain’t taking credit cards for this showing, but there’s still a catch... Lot of money to be made on the simple things. Believe it or not, we make our business at closing fucking doors behind us.” Obediently, Aaron made use of the door, before his opportunity closed in front of him.

“This better be worth my time. I’ve been getting tired of getting the run around everywhere else, chased by everything under the sun...”

“That’s what happens when you play hardball, you don’t get any soft pitches. Now get back here, the show is starting, got five jokers on the field and the deck’s only for four of them.” Finally making use of the Cuban show enhancer in his pocket. “You know... It could have all been easier with a lot less running like a little bitch if you came by our office once in a while. Getting the cold shoulder, it’s like we don’t mean anything to you.” Throwing away the match.

“Well, when I’m told no obligation to buy, I tend to walk in thinking that. Kastala better be worth it.”

“She will be, and of course there’s an obligation to buy, It’ll leave you wanting more.”

“So, what’s this field?”

“Shaltan’s in the sand garb; original name I know... Simon you already met, and ‘one dark skin to another’ he can go fuck himself. There’s Foghorn,” Skipping his usual banter. “Dalmeyo with the ‘space age’ viking armour, and if I gave any more out about him, they’d have you killed. Oh, and the short guy sitting on the ass...with the wide Russian style beard, that’s Khroutze ”

“I don’t know, looks a little taller than you, sure you can call him short?...”

“Being five feet tall is overrated, kid. Closer you are to the ground the easier it is to keep your balance staggering home from the bar. Rumour is he’s married to one of each and every forest creature known to man, gender non-specific... That’s not a joke, don’t go around talking like that. And don’t worry about remembering them, the rotation will be different next week. Ah, and the most important one. Kastala. That’s her alright...” Pointing to her side split drape of a dress. Pale bleached skin, with the tonal refinement of a fine metabolism. Her long black hair, nails and lace screamed gothic, but was tailored in a combat fashion for open mobility. “Oh, if I were the leather seating in her Thirties Duesenberg Convertible.” The imp uttered towards the fiery ‘battle monster’.

In a bold voice, the alleged foghorn, who made himself known as Claudeus opened the procession with a formal third person introduction before getting down to business. “Each and every one of you are late from the appointed time... As expected.” His stern unimpressed face matched his voice, like a bitter old man talking to children. His old robe didn’t help it either. The contractor mimicking mouth movements with his hands as Claudeus continued. “So... As for the proper time that I actually had intended for this gathering...” Checking his watch “That makes us early by about five or so minutes.” Stroking his wizards beard.

“Why in the nautical abyss of space are we met in Stagna of all places?” Dalmayo opened. “In this populous no less?”

Chumming proudly, Claudeus smirked. “They have lovely biscuits just down the road.” Chuckling to himself. “I jest, I jest...” Quelling the warrior’s vexations. “It has come to our understanding that the evil of the destroyer may be at it’s brink. Such measures would deem the lost people of this realm deaf, and their rambles of noise should veil us. Where best than in plain sight? The world has forsaken Stagna, as the Deities had closed their gates on us. Now, unless there are any other questions, welcome, all...”

“All?” Kastala entered the field. “I’m counting short, there are five of you plus me... Did Belship, drunk out of his mind, putter himself into a dark hole. Last I heard that handsome commander hasn’t perished yet, or has he?”

Piping in, Dalmeyo shot off. “Belship abandoned us twelve years ago, and has left on bad terms. His whereabouts are unknown, and will remain.”

Claudeus returning to organize. “And after twelve years we can no longer recognize the efforts of Belship as an ally, but as an unseasoned, and crippled neutral party.”

“Neutral party? It’s betrayal!”

“His words to me were a resignation. It was my fault to maintain the vision that he would see error in this and return.”

“Then he is a threat,” Dalmeyo took the stage. “As one shall arise, he shall surely destroy us all. Belship can’t be trusted to leave. No one, leaves!”

“Oh, get over it,” Kastala returned “Your boyfriend didn’t want to see you, now you’re sad.”

“Make off the planes, you temptress!”

Shaltin adding his piece “If his seeking peace is the destruction you foresee, then there is no future for any of us. No peace, nor end, or resolve. It’s conflict will be eternity after.”

“He is a coward! Peace lays in the death of ‘he which shall arise’ No more after that, no short until we hang the destroyers head from the rafters of Dolayian Hall. And Belship’s might I add!”

Khrouse grieving just the same. “Times are on the move. It is said that the Holy Mackeral has chosen another bishop.”

Dalmeyo Shook his head, “No one cares about your hokey fish with a stick up it's ass, Baron!”

“A’ight then... We... Getting on with this, or?” Simon brought up.

Khroutze sighed “I’m think’en It’s already begun.” Picking his nose.

“Alright... Alright,” Dalmeyo suggested. “I’ll start it up for you. There are six of us, prophecy counts seven. We can’t rely on Belship to arrive when the time comes, we need a replacement. “Velore, my highest man. Honoured warrior. I vouch for him as equal footing to myself, and his talents... To be certain, they frighten me. He is more than capable of going toe to toe with the ends of time. Or Amilyn. a man rumoured impervious to death itself. A man who cannot die cannot fall in battle.”

“But can be wounded...” Kastala remarked, enticingly. “Sorely at that... Perhaps you should have brought them with you. They might even be handsome.”

“They are currently indisposed.” Dalmeyo scowled to himself. “Can anyone else vouch such a power? Of your men, of those at your disposal, of those in passing that have stricken fear into your hearts for their might and valor...”

“Twenty thousand.” Shaltin offered. “Finely seasoned, highly deadly...”

“We need but one!”

“...Of which may be examined thoroughly until one such Garnet amidst the sands should find favour in your eye.”

“Two million,” Dalmeyo returned. “Trained across space, time, every nation and conquest. If you want numbers, I have numbers. Velore and Amilyn. They are born under a star and boundless as the onyx sky shimmers to the open eye, they are ones in billions which planets flourish. Twenty thousand soldiers, a garnet in that? You’d know him by name if such stood at your feet, like us, their gifts supersede rank and accolade. True, Godly power.”

Simon “Who says we need soldiers?” Walking the room “We got heart, we got soul... Each man here, strong enough to cave into a boar and crush it’s skull with only the gaze of their own eyes... Yeah... Yeah that’s fearsome, yeah that’s some Godly stuff right there. No lie... Ya’ll need faith, else why we here? Some guy tell us the days are thin, and we gotta show out by grab’en thugs? I know men that ain’t pewtered, strong too, unwavering hearts...”

“We don’t need hearts, or panalia pickers”

“You don’t like it, because they’re not bloody thirsty. All you know is blood thirsty, it’s all you can trust. Two hands, what they can do, day in day out looking for the next battle to glorify yourself with. When does that end? The final enemy? The last hurrah?... Nah... I see lesser men consumed by it. I don’t fear the coming, I fear the beast it makes.”

“I’ve heard enough.”

“And you’ve gone on long enough, read the room man. Five people here, trying to get a word in, and you’re dozen it over like an old rickety bar. Kastala the only one able to word in here, and even she tied. You an’I... We’ve been here about the same time, old Kaldor thought it was nice to see some new blood before his ended up on the floor. He saw the fall of the old ways, when they fell in on themselves from within.” Turning to everyone else. “And feel free to jump in when you need to, I’m just keeping this bully tied long enough so you can gum our your own thoughts, don’t let him take you over without buying you dinner and a movie first.”

“The old ways... Were imparted onto me” Claudeus opened in a phlegmy rumble which disipated “And I was wrong... The honour, and trust that those hardened would not break nor shatter... That loyalty came from when the need was brought. The Alstead Bloodline has fallen with Kaldor... Not by ‘one’, but by armies of the inconsequential. We have become as forgotten as the sands... And powerless to stop them. The old way is forgotten now. Our seventh should be one of new blood. Simon You offer men of faith, those we can trust... But we need that which can fight. It is not of principalities anymore. We are fighting men.”

“I let us speak, and you just gonna vamp this space bologna’s war-spiel?” Spitting at the ground. “Shaltin, Khroutze, come on, Kastala, you can’t possibly be bowing down like it’s Sunday! I know he preach’en but Warmonger ain’t no damn priest. “Tay, Laya, Pan, Lil Rikk. You want men, There, that’s four of them, you brought two on the field. I got good, strong, brilliant people, beyond talented, some battle hardened by mother... Fuken... Dragons!”

“And disciplined in the art of the pipe, I wager.” Dalmeyo returned. “You gave them a mouth, but they passed it like the donation plate onto someone else... Your open mic has ended.”

“Simon is right.” Shaltin perked in. “He has candidates, which you have requested, by name. They should be evaluated.”

“Oh shut up.”

“I am a negotiator, I do not intend to war you over a snide remark, and your dependency to dominate even amidst allies, but I will stand as I have say. The new ways will be tested by the old ways and prove capable. You wish to bring the new tide, men of power to fill the place of prophecy, then their strength should supersede our own else they are young, and weak and foolish.”

Simon peering over. “Khroutze?”

Looking up at his calling. “We’ve been at this game a long time. Waiting...” Khroutze spoke solemnly “Able men are waiting, and I’m loosing the romance this used to bring. I don’t need power from this, it’s time I become secluded...”

“Another fallen man?” Dalmayo sneered.

Arron’s eyes scanned the floor, trying to find the loose thread in the carpet. “If these are the most powerful people, one of them has to be the boss.” Aaron assured himself alone to his mind. “He's showing me this, but says the boss wants him elsewhere. He couldn't be trying to save me from anything, his job is to get me to join him but the boss... His powers that make us invisible... He couldn't possibly be able to cover everything could he? He has to know we are here, else we'd be visible right? His imp is lying again, about something at least.” But before his thoughts could derive to any answer, a form moved in from the sidelines.

“Hey!” A voice called out. “Sorry I’m late.” The man approached. Yet another newcomer. His short golden hair shot forward, with a dark army trim around the sides. A stern, youthful tall face with sharp features. Truly a handsome man indeed. He had a runner’s build with tight, well defined muscles, like he was dehydrated. His presence sent Kastala in utter shock as he lamented. “Can you believe it? A damn deli that don’t sell sandwiches... Looked at me like some kind of freak show for even asking. Told me to go make it myself, what am I paying money for? I didn’t go in there for an Ikea sandwich, I went there because I’m hungry damnit!” Reading the tension in the crowd. “Dalmeyo said I should come by, something about inspecting my merits, didn’t think there’d be such... Diversity.” Huffing a laugh to his boss. “Captain, you look grieved.”

“If I wanted you to come late, I would have ordered you home. With your absence, I’ve nearly written you off. Simon has issued a contest of strengths. You are his key opposition. Now explain your absence!”

“Stagna Is my old stomping grounds, You know I had to stop by the old strip. Think you could allow me the time to visit the sanctum before I leave? Right... I’ve got my reasons of delay... Speaking of which... Hey! Deiana, where do you think you’re going?” Calling out the person trying to slip out of the back. “Oh, such a frantic response. Don’t like being called your real name, do you? I don’t like being stabbed in the back you bitch!”

“ARE YOU DELUSIONAL!?” Kastala retorted.

“I like how you respond to being addressed... Delusional, Maybe...” Ripping the shirt off his body. “Little side effect of that secret you’ve been hiding from us, IF I HAD TO GUESS!” The enraged man called out, the gaping hole in his body somehow not collapsing him. Rising his fingers up, in a European diplomacy, he snapped his fingers. Below her, the entire ground disappeared, sending her into the depths. “Care to tell everyone what you are really up to? Come now, you’ve got an image to uphold, if you run away they’ll know for certain what you are!” Walking to the edge. All hands ready to take him down. As he looked down he could see her, running away but his hand caught her, picking her up from the streets and throwing her into his other arm. Aaron astonished, seeing only the moment when she reappeared beside Velore. Holding her in a choke, “You come any closer and she will die.” Issuing his demands. “Reaching into his wound, and withdrawing the festering liquid which smouldered through his glove. “You want to know what your own poison feels like?” Slicing the black tar across her forehead. Blood running down from the incision where it clearly met. “YOU CAN’T, BECAUSE YOU’RE IMMUNE TO YOUR OWN FILTH!”

Holding back everyone in disbelief, he held her head in a triangle lock, digging his words deeper into her. “You’re only trick is fooling everyone who has a sausage. If it wasn’t such a meat-fest in here, someone might actually see through you. Weren’t there two woman here, oh I don’t know, thirteen years ago? You must have been just an old hag back then! Galain and Sashaenya, died of an unknown cause, didn’t they? Slow lethargic numbness, deterioration of the fat cells, increased blood acidity, and a weird parasite that grew in the inhospitable condition. Well, I can tell you what it feels like, it fucking hurts damn you! Who put you up to this? Which [merchant] had a bid on me.”

“Release her!” His captain ordered. “Let us question her. On the honour of the seven.” Slowly Velore obliged begrudgingly. Before his lock was fully undone, She slipped through his grasp, sliding between his legs in a fluid like motion that encompassed Velore from behind. As his arms moved away from another, she was ejected from his vicinity, blinking out into the sky, and once more pulled back towards him as his fist collided into her plexus. Unphased by the stun, her body became as liquid once again, absorbing onto his skin, burning through his clothes and scolding his skin. He closed his eyes, and when he reopened them he had moved away from her. She looked onward with a dark gaze which saw past him. He lifted his arm, pulling the roof up with it and pushing it, the tile flew into the distance. Crushing the panel with a clap of his hands. Only her liquid body remained, hovering, smouldering, growing two hundred feet away.

Calling upon the five plus himself, Delmayo ordered. “I will take lead.”

“No captain,” Velore contested. “I cannot have you infected too. I am already on deaths row, forgive me. I will end her for your safety. This poison is too caustic, she could kill everyone here before we even blink.” As her body grew into the large blanket of malignant toxin that began to overwhelm the city’s down town, Velore grit himself to prepare. As was she, to take a final stand against the six some heroes. Miasma and plumes of smoke covered the streets where the ooze had draped across the populous. Her form taking the large shape of what appeared to be a massive maggot with teeth. Plump, thorny, and wavering, it’s mere presence rippled the burning air around it like the desert sun, distorting from the pressure. Casting wads of poison as it breathed, a warring roar escaped it. From Velors eyes, a fire brewed and ignited like a fuse which begged forgiveness as he did. “For their sakes... Do I DO THIS!” Lauching himself towards it. He turned and as he did, the city below began to blur into a haze. Lines of buildings fuzzed out, soon evaporating in a circumference with Velore and then even he began to disappear taking the skyline, and the poison which was still her’s with him into the void. The light around it’s epicentre curled in until it became so tiny that all the silence that was left, was the shock of what had gone missing. And the beast, which had vanished with the hero.”

Standing at the roofs broken edge, Delmayo was breathless. He reposed himself to understand what he had witnessed. “I believe that he is still fighting her as we speak...” Returning to the answer-hungry audience. “He never told me what or where it goes, when he... But he is surely there now... Somewhere, if even he knows... Somewhere where she can no longer reach us. Even if he dies... He will not relinquish the seal, for it is truly gone now. The key, broken in the lock behind him. My... My Battleson.” Weeping a warriors salute.

“I believe this is proof enough,” Stepping in, Claudeus opened up. “That our forces alone are vulnerable to not only such deceit, but also of such magnitude. If I could, enlist your armies as a measure, for forces against us, outside of ‘the one’... It would ease the strain on the chosen seven until such time arrives. We may even survive long enough to see it. As of such, I do not believe this event fits the mark given onto us, but being directed onto us, is a sign that ‘He’ will arise very soon. If our faith is varied, and shaken then we will be vulnerable. Just as prophecy states that seven shall fight, the seven may fall if those we posess are no more than mere babies in strength. We will commence the exhibit of power, if all is in order. We have a slot to fill.”

“There we go, that’s Foghorn for you.” The contractor commented from the sidelines. “Everyone is equal, except him. YOU FUCKEN SUCK!”

“You’re the boss... Boss...” Simon sarcastically figure headed out of Claudeus. “Might as well call out the elephant in the room. After all, we follow you blindly anyway, bowing down and shit; might as well just say it.”

Claudeus continued, ignoring the rebellious tone. “If there is no more, I believe we have come to a concencous on filling our missing...” Turning to the void. “Two...” In a pale voice. “It’s two now... We are of only five in strength.” Returning to the group, his weary eyes trembling with his voice. “We are weaker than ever. He will surely come for us now. We must not let this happen.”

“What the hell happened to the guy?” The Contractor complained, roaring off the building’s overhanging edge. “Now I look like an idiot, HEY! FOGHORN, TRY ACTING LIKE AN ENCUMBERSOME JACKASS, YOU’RE MAKING ME LOOK BAD!” Sitting his ass back down. “Guy’s completely caving, like someone’s got their hand up his ass... And he likes it or something...”

“Heh... Right then...” Simon pipped in. “What a play, what a William Shakespeak... New guy shows up, saves the day and we’re all supposed to just accept that it’s fate. Score one Delmayo, and Claudeus is in charge now. Sounds great, like a real university freshmen trying to write propaganda. Sure, I’ll buy it. How about everyone else out there?” Calling out from off the rooftops. “Any takers? Surely spies as powerful as yourselves and your masters must be strong enough to take up the gauntlet.”

“Spies? What is the meaning of this?” Claudeus roared sorely. “Have you kept this a secret, and what have you?”

“Don’t tell me you can’t sense them... Unless, you already know they’re there. They have way of getting around into some dark corners of the world, and I don’t like that. I was hoping I could figure out who’s goons were sitting up there watching. Personally... I don’t know any of them by name. Figured ya’ll could see them peeking in through the cracks. Cats crawling up the ally like the garbage man turned the corner too quickly. You ask yourselves, who in amongst ya snuck yer kids into this Broadway musical?” Simon continued, overtalking the man who tried to interrupt him “Look around you, rats, mosquitoes, tax men, an infestation of them! I’m thinking someone knew ahead of time today we were running the classy Shakespear... Well... Maybe we should be taking inventory, before hailing Mr. Onesie as our new champion of the bunch. Ever think about that?... Could be someone who can’t die.”

“You’re insinuatings at this critical time, are to start breaking each other apart? Do you intend to lead us to our ends? Do you hear me? We have no time for your games! If you insist on this, who say’s you ain’t him that shall arise?”

Frowning, Simon shook his head, and walked away. “Go count your kids, it’s bed time.” Slamming down a device which sent a low frequency wave that disrupted the barriers between their audience and the meeting. The surrounding faces quickly vanishing from all around just as abruptly as they were revealed. “I’ll bring my kin next time just so the field is fair. After all, no one knew ahead of time we were picking a seventh today. Wasn’t on the plate.” Eyeing Dalmeyo as he left. “You know how to reach me. Four warriors of clean heart, and Mayo’s Amaranth. No spies next time or we’re gonna have some problems, ya hear?”

Foghorn could scarcely be heard casting his curses onto Simon as the contractor scrambled across the roof. He yanked the door open, hollering down the stairwell. “Boy! SHIT!” Taking his leave into the aether of a dark corner of the room.

Outside, weeping could be heard across the town. Emergency vehicles on site clearing people away from the erosions of stone buildings which crumbled under the chunky acid rainfall. Even from the ground’s eye, buildings and high-rises alike had vanished as if it were merely cut from existence by the edge of a dull and jagged razor. One could even see an old man standing in his living room, turning around, and sitting back down again repeatedly. A deep state of confusion draping off of him, with his head resting within the palm of his hand, desperately trying to make sense of his world around him. In another, a mother was trying to climb outside of her apartment where the connecting door between her and her baby was swallowed. Only the shallow corner remained to contain the crib and a few tall items.

“Aaron, AARON!” Zachery called out. “I thought it got you.” Grabbing the shock stricken lad before he could be immersed into the extensive medical care. “We need to dip, now... I saw Sophie’s dad grab her and make for the lake side. They’re probably there now.” Piecing together the fractured fragments of what had just occurred. His mind, repeating the frantic despair from the crowd until it became a horror. Hundreds swallowed, maybe even dissolved in acid. The few to escape were panicked, their sadness scorning him deeply.

The moments passing blurred together between moments of deep worry which churned his entire insides like a cement mixer. The others being trying to eject himself from looking out onto the world. “Zack... I need to tell you... This... This feeling. I’ve never felt something so deeply upsetting before in my life. It’s like something screaming inside of me, suffering a pain more severe than anything our bodies can withstand.”

“Dude, that’s the shock talking.”

“Why don’t you believe me? I thought you were all for Sophies backseat analogy. This is real!”

“I know it’s real, because It’s driving me up the wall too! Difference is, I know when to look away, because I know it gets worse. I’ve never been so scared in my entire life. What the hell happened?”

“He... He removed everything, before I could understand, it... It was just gone.”

“He? Who’s he?”

“The...” Feeling a loose thread around his neck tightening as he recounted. “The Seven... They... They’re powerful men. They argued, and that thing came out of the woman, I think it actually was the woman...”

“Count on you to be the only one in the group who actually gets a good look at what’s going on, while the rest of us have to piece to together.”

Unable to speak any longer, like the thread tied off his mouth, Aaron followed the road up to the shoreline. As his senses returned, perhaps even lucidly, every sound and breeze louder than the hollers he heard at the crash site. In the surreal adrenaline, he felt a truly horrifying voice calling him away. His eyes welled up a trench of tears, and the irrigation spite a deep cut in his temper. He was tired of being in the centre being truly alive, being and too scared to do anything about it. “Tides are changing in a way that scares me deeply. It’s not the scale of it, nor the uncertainty of what form it will take that frightens me... It’s knowing that I may not have a choice in being outside of it anymore. He...” The imp with the contracts, he thought before his mind drew blank in a dead silence. A flat, life threatened silence. Looking up he could see the ray of hope. “Sophie!”

She looked up from the front seat. Her Father’s head firmly indenting the top of his steering wheel. Rolling down her window, she reunited. “Get in, we need to go immediately.” Obliging her requests, they rolled into the back, as the engine ignited. “Scared my dad half out of his wits alright, grabbed me and told me to give you directions on where we were going, not realizing that there was no way to actually give them to you.” Her dad’s face bore once again, the same grim sorrow from that morning. “Where were you anyway, Aaron?”

“On a rooftop,” Aaron replied, instinctively, in a droning monotone. “Don’t ask how I got there though. I, uh... Got pretty distracted...”

“Does this stop us from going on trips, or anything?” Zack popped out. “Just... Seeing as our folks are gonna blow this out of the water. You know they will. Were not responsible for it, didn’t get hurt or anything. It’ll be like that carnival ride all over again, where someone got hurt on the rollarcoaster, and we weren’t allowed to ride pull buggies ever again. They did it to both of us. Sophie’s dad was the only one smart enough to see how stupid it was.”

Aaron, still loamy to himself, battled in the back seat. The vibrant rays of the lake void from his vision like a grey tinted glass. Within he felt a force calling him away into the numbness, away from the reality and anguish of feeling truly alive and he felt himself wither until his body could no longer restrain his worry. “I feel, that if I see what is beyond... I might have an actual chance...” Speaking words which he could not retrace where they came from or what thought brought them to him. “Because if I do not see what is outside of this world, then I might truly die inside.”

Chapter end