Off The Pages -
Chapter Eighteen
Jennifer opened her eyes, which was not something she expected to do. A quick once-over saw she was back in the hideaway, and her body had the unholy heat surging through it. Without effort behind it, the hateful power that burned her did not have the potency it had earlier, and with a mental squeeze, she focused on it and dispelled it. The relief that washed over her felt like a cool breeze on a hot summer day. She reached over and touched Jericho on the hand, and focused.
“Oh, fuck,” he said, as the destructive power left his body. “That’s better.” The billionaire pushed himself to a standing position. He popped his back and groaned before walking over to the kitchen and pouring himself a drink.
“I guess I don’t have to ask how it went,” Edward said, “but how did you get back?”
Jericho took a sip of the strong liquor. He closed his eyes and let it go down, then sighed. “One of the powers I copied was a young man who could go back a few minutes after he died,” the investor revealed. “Discovered it by accident.”
“I don’t think we’re going to be able to rely on that to keep working,” Jennifer noted.
The billionaire shook his head. “No,” he agreed, “If he was able to overwhelm us like that, we’re going to have to choose our battles wisely.”
“After all,” Jennifer added, “the first time he hit me with that attack, it hurt, but it wasn’t instantly fatal. His power definitely fluctuates.”
“Pardon me,” Raymond cut in, “but I have a question. Why doesn’t this fake Jesus just destroy us from afar?”
Before anyone had a chance to get nervous, Jericho set down his glass and turned to the group. “Because,” Jericho explained, “I got some of his memories before I got knocked away. The man spent years of his life expecting to see the final battle between Jesus and the forces of Satan in one climactic battle.”
“So,” Edward noted, “since he’s influencing this creature without knowing it, he’s going to want an audience.” He clenched his fists as anger drew itself across his face. “Bastard. He profanes the name of the Lord with his monster!”
As Jennifer made herself a sandwich with the lunch meat in the fridge, she noted the rage on her friend’s face. The black man was very much unlike her in one regard. As an atheist, she did not have a point of comparison. To her, Jack Hurst was just another religious fanatic, just one who happened to have a walking nuke. Ed, however, had been raised by parents who went to church. He was a firm believer, and nothing would change that. So, to Ed, it must be galling to see this creature and the horror he unveiled.
She realized something. “Hey, guys,” she thought out loud, “did you figure out what you wanted to be yet?”
The three snapped to attention. Annie stood up. “I am,” she said, “if you’re ready.”
Jericho finished his glass and approached. “Okay,” he said, extending his hand. “Really focus on it.”
Jennifer’s friend and Edward’s girlfriend took the hand, and immediately felt another power appear in her mental space. She stepped back, closed her eyes, and focused on the mental image of who she wanted to turn into. With effort, the switch flipped.
Her flesh and clothes morphed before their very eyes. In under ten seconds, the five-foot-six woman with vaguely Irish facial features stood a hair under seven feet tall and had at least an extra hundred pounds of muscle. A long, black mane of hair hung down to her middle back, and her dark tan body had tone unlike any she had before. Her face looked Egyptian and her green eyes had turned brown. A desert warrior’s outfit with feminine modifications garbed her. The three comic fans recognized her at once.
“Cyroya from First Breaker?” Ed almost gasped. “Wow, now that’s a heavy hitter.”
“I figure we need power,” Annie said, before pausing at the sound of her voice. “Oh man, I sound so…”
“Intense?” John offered.
Annie pointed. “Intense! Yes,” she agreed.
“That’s a good choice,” Jennifer said, analyzing. “Cyroya is the Goddess of Strength, after all.”
Ed sat thinking for a few moments. “I guess I’m up,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about it and I can’t come up with a better result.” He stepped forward.
“Sure?” Jericho asked, hand extended.
“Sure,” Edward replied. He took the hand.
Once he stepped back, he closed his eyes and activated his newfound power. His body morphed into that of a lean but tone man with Japanese features. He wore a multi-layered kimono of black and red and had a katana sheathed at his hip. Dark green hair spread out in a wild pattern on his head, thick and consisting of bunched-together clumps. His eyes were blood red.
“Oh man,” Jennifer thought out loud, “the name is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t think of it.”
Annie snapped her finger into a point. “Kadosuke from the manga Spirit Blood,” she noted.
“Kadosuke Otokada!” Jennifer shouted, realizing. “Oh wow, that’s a great choice.”
“I had a number of characters to think about,” Edward stated, “but honestly, I didn’t think I could do better than the guy who defeated the Dark Spirit Emperor’s supernova attack.”
John stepped forward. “I have a great idea, you guys,” he said. He turned to Jericho, taking his hand. “Ready.”
When he stepped back, flipping the switch, the transformation that occurred revealed an unexpected turn. There stood a man chronologically seventy, though not physically a second older than physical prime of twenty-five, toned and athletic, but not in any way superhuman. Long, dark brown hair hung past his shoulders, with safety glasses adorning his face, and a white lab coat over dress shirt and slacks. “How’s this?” John asked.
Annie folded her arms, concern on her face. “Doctor Anti from the Dimension Turner novels?” she scoffed.
“He, uh,” Edward pointed out, “he has no powers.”
“No, wait,” Jennifer cut in, “that’s actually brilliant. Both of you guys went for sheer power, in your own way. This character is super smart.”
“Beyond super smart,” John pointed out. “Doctor Anderson Antel, a.k.a. Doctor Anti, was the coolest anti-hero in nineteen-eighties science fiction novels. He gave himself eternal youth, for crying out loud, and he built a goddamn anti-reality cannon that destroyed the rogue dimension hopper when the heroes couldn’t.”
Raymond stepped forward. “You know, I think I read one of those one time,” he pointed out. A grin came upon his face. “Imagine what we might make with your help.”
John gestured at himself. “That’s why I chose this one,” he pointed out.
“That’s a fantastic idea,” Jericho cut in. “We’ll get to work setting you up a new lab. I might have some locations ready.”
Jericho’s phone rang. “Sam, what you got for me?” he answered.
A moment later, his eyes went wide. The phone hit the ground when his arm went limp. Everyone turned to him at once. “What?” Jennifer practically shouted.
He looked at her, his face almost pale. “They…” He slapped himself to get his thoughts straight. “The U.N. just authorized the U.S. government to drop a nuke on him.”
A chorus of disbelief echoed throughout the room.
Jack Hurst and his Lord were in the middle of talking to a crowd including dozens of police officers, outlining their plan for proceeding the war against evil, when suddenly, the Lord looked up, concern on his face. “My Lord!” Jack said, a look of shock appearing. “What’s wrong?”
“Come with me,” The Lord spoke, draping an arm around the waist of his charge and taking to the air. They flew for five minutes or so, until they stood hundreds of miles outside of the city.
“Why did we leave?” Jack asked.
The Lord placed an arm on Jack’s shoulder, and the man’s eyes suddenly saw with divine clarity. A shape appeared on the horizon about two minutes later, and the preacher’s eyes went wide at the sight of the triangular shape. “The kingdoms of man have decided to unleash their might upon us,” He spoke to Jack. “They must have been hoping I would see this coming and flee the city.”
Jack whirled his head between the plane and his Lord. “But…that’s a bomber!” he shouted. A chill passed through him as though a needle of ice touched his heart. “They’re…they’re going to launch a nuclear weapon on us!”
The Lord grinned. “Oh, you of little faith,” he spoke, pushing ahead of his servant. The ship passed very nearly overhead. They both saw the bay of the large vessel open, and a huge metallic oval shape drop out. It fell, whistling for a short while.
A light as bright as a thousand morning suns lit up the blue sky. Jack threw his arms up instinctively and turned his head. A scream left his mouth.
And then, nothing seemed to happen.
Jack dropped his guard, opening his eyes and looking up. A gigantic ball of flame hovered high above them, a sphere of translucent light englobing it. A simple squeeze of the Lord’s outstretched left hand and the globe shrank, taking its contents with it to harmlessly poof out of existence like a soap bubble on a needle. The Lord saw the vessel flying off into the distance and stuck out his right hand. The entire ship exploded in a brilliant flash, reducing the entire vessel and its occupants to dust in a second.
“Yes!” shouted Jack Hurst. “I’m sorry I doubted you, oh Lord!”
“It is understandable,” The Lord spoke, “because you are but a man. I can forgive your fear.” He embraced his servant. “Now come.”
“Where do we go now, oh Lord?” the preacher asked.
The Lord clenched his teeth for a brief instant. He let out a nasal huff. “The kingdoms of man have demonstrated their intent against my Father’s kingdom,” he stated. “We must demonstrate to them the foolishness of this act, so they never make such a mistake again.” He turned his gaze upon his mouthpiece. “My child, do you have the strength to carry on? This will not be a pleasant experience, and I do not do what comes next lightly.”
Jack swallowed. “I…I will persist, my Lord!” he swore.
“Good,” the Lord spoke. “For you will have to.” They took off.
At the United Nations building in New York City, an armed squadron of men took at once to their positions when two very familiar figures landed twenty feet from them.
“OPEN FIRE!”
After one of the armed men shouted, and what followed was a cacophony of explosions from various assault shotguns, automatic rifles, grenade launchers, and five fifty caliber machine guns mounted on Humvee turrets. A foot from their target, each projectile turned into harmless dust and scattered on the ground in front of the Lord’s feet.
After a whole minute of shots going off, the scene became eerily silent after thousands of rounds of ammunition had been expended. Smoke poured from hot barrels as men stared in disbelief.
“Your actions will be forgiven if you surrender,” The Lord spoke.
A man drew his sidearm and fired. The Lord closed his eyes and held his head down in sorrow.
Every soldier present went up in an ultra-hot burst of power.
“Depressing,” Jack spoke. “All they had to do was accept their savior.”
The pair stepped past the military hardware, and into the front entrance to the building.
Inside the building, men and women in suits scrambled at the sight. Guards rushed to take positions behind tables and fixtures, firing pistols. Each one went up in a burst of light and a pile of ash remained. Down a veritable mile of hallways and exotic rooms, they walked past armed resistance, leaving no survivors who acted against them. Finally, they came across a pair of double doors and beyond it, the main auditorium where the nations spoke to one another.
Two armed men with shotguns blocked their way.
“My children,” the Lord spoke, “your colleagues came upon us with far greater weaponry. They failed. I give you the offer I gave them. If you accept me as your savior, and bend the knee to my Father’s will, you will be spared.”
“You’re not the Jesus I prayed to in church!” One soldier shouted and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked. “What the…Aaaaa”
His scream cut off as a white ball of light overtook his body, and his ash fell to the floor.
“You?” Jack spoke.
The man dropped his shotgun. “I won’t oppose you,” he spoke. “But I’m not bending the knee to a monster like you.”
The Lord stepped forward, but Jack put a hand on his Lord’s shoulder. “My Lord,” Jack advised, “we have more pressing matters. His time will come.”
“Wise words, my child,” The Lord replied. “Alright, young man, you are spared, for now.” They stepped past.
The collection of delegates from every nation shrieked and shouted a chorus of horror and anger as the two stepped into the room. Jack Hurst and His Lord took in the sight. An armed bodyguard for the Italian delegation charged, but the Lord simply waved a finger and the man launched into the air. He sailed across the chamber, landing and rolling into the corner in a crumpled heap. More screams could be heard.
The Lord stomped his foot, and a sound of thunder reverberated through the chamber. Every voice went silent. “You all know your Lord,” Jack spoke, taking the podium. “Normally, I speak for him, but I think here, it’s best if you hear it from him.”
He looked at Jack, his servant, and smiled, before taking a walk around the floor, looking at individual people, representing the kingdoms of man. “I have returned,” he began, “to bring about the final battle against Satan and his minions. We have all witnessed the world become the battlefield. Men and women of all walks of life saw the Lights in the sky and developed powers.” He locked eyes with delegates. “Some have even become paragons of virtue, such as the powered individuals in the middle east fighting trafficking.” He took a breath and let it out. “Sadly, the only fight that matters are the one between the Evil One and myself.”
He scanned the room once more. “Which brings me,” he continued, “to the most important point. Just now, the greatest weapon humanity has developed was wielded against Jack and myself in a desperate attempt.” A stern frown of anger painted itself on his face. His brows furrowed. “I have, thus far, only served up judgment against individuals. It seems a demonstration must be given, to remind the foolish kings in their palaces who is actually in control of the world. It is not they, nor is it I. It is the Father in Heaven. And as the executor of His will here on His Earth, I feel the time has come for me to choose not to spare the rod.”
He paused in the center of the room, surrounded on both sides by desks. He blinked a long moment. “Who was the first to raise their hand and authorize this attack?”
The leaders of the world and their delegates looked at each other but said nothing. The Lord waited a good minute, taking in this passive resistance. A decision was made. “Very well,” He said, taking in each person as he walked past. “If that is the case, I shall pick one.” He made sure everyone saw how serious he was. “And then another. And then another.”
“Wait!”
Everyone turned in the direction of the voice.
It was the delegate from India. “Wait, you bastard!” he repeated.
The Lord waded through the collection of stations and came to the station of the delegate from India. “Your leader instructed you to give the United States permission to attempt to destroy us?” he asked the quivering man.
“I did what had to be done!” the delegate swore. “To stop you! Now you cut this out and spare these innocent people!”
The Lord smiled, and placed hands on the man’s shoulders. The delegate’s middle-aged body was healed. “For your honesty,” he spoke, “I will forgive you, and you shall be spared.” A solemn look came upon him. “However, your nation has many who are not my Father’s followers. An example must be made.”
The man began to scream, but the Lord waved him off and stepped away. A dozen men tried to gang up on him, but a simple wave of his hand sent them scattering. The Lord stepped into the center of the room and placed his hands together. A glow overtook him.
Over India, a second sun appeared in the sky. Millions of people couldn’t help but glance at it, in a mixture of awe and fear, as a reddish tint appeared from the light. A translucent blue light started on the ground and spread out at impossible speed. It surrounded certain people, rendering them unharmable. It avoided all man-made objects and most people, also surrounding and protecting all plant life, greenery, animals, and waterways. Once it reached the border of the nation, it spread out along the imaginary line. At the Pakistani border, soldiers jumped as a translucent, impenetrable blue wall of light separated the two nations. A plane flying over the nation saw a dome form from one edge of the horizon to the other, completely engulfing the country. People watched with concern as they could not touch the few in a crowd who had been covered in the blue forcefield. The people found they could not touch the grass or the water, and clamor gave way to chaos.
The second, red sun in the sky, began to shrink. As it did, it began to glow more brightly. For about thirty seconds, it dwindled in size until it reached a single white point in the sky.
It exploded with an Earth-shaking kaboom.
Screams of horror and pain echoed out and were silenced instantly. The wave of unnatural heat moved outward at unfathomable speeds, reducing to plasma anything in their path. Roads, buildings, and people vanished in the wave of power. People died with their last breath caught in their throat. Animals ran and panicked at the heat dancing around them, shielded from its effects. Those individuals coated by the protective barrier stood in disbelief, surrounded by a wall of pure heat. It moved outward until it collided with the walls of the barrier and vanished. A light descended from the sky and cooled the air as the dome vanished and took the protective light with it.
A few million people stood surrounded by hundreds of miles of…nothing.
Plants, greenery, waterways, animals, these things were the only sign life had existed at all.
The occasional Christian wandered around what once was a nation.
All sign of man-made anything had been erased from existence. All art, all culture, all of the symbols and the people who made them were gone. A single act, like the breath of an angry child on a birthday cake’s candle, had blown it all away.
At the U.N. building, the CIA had been the first to have a satellite over India to see what had transpired. The first sign for those outside the building that something had happened, was that in Pakistan, and China on the other side, had witnessed a horrific event unlike any in human history. Those close to the border had been protected by the barrier, but a select few had taken pictures and video of the event. Crews had ventured into the area, gaping in awe at the sheer expanse of empty land, where much of the land that had not possessed plant life or waterway had been simply leveled by the blast. Every so often, out on the distance, they came across a person, shaking in horror as they wandered around the wasteland that used to be India.
“Goddammit you bastard!” the delegate from Italy shrieked. “What the fuck do you want!”
“I thought that was clear,” Jack Hurst said. The Lord turned to him and nodded. “Here is the simple truth. Take heed. First, all opposition to God the Father and his laws upon this Earth—HIS Earth—shall stop at once. Second, any who are not loyal followers of Christ the Son, have one of two choices. They can either agree to serve their Lord or they can be destroyed. Third.” He brought out his cell phone and held it up to the secretary. “Our enemies have made themselves known. Satan’s premier servants are going to keep attacking us. They and their allies must be brought to judgment.”
The secretary put up on screen each person. “The woman the media calls Capacitor after the character she resembles,” he explained, “as well as the investor Jericho Torvalds, and all their allies, whoever they are, shall be brought to judgment.”
“Take these words to heart,” The Lord spoke. “We are in the final stages of battle against Satan’s armies. You have until we reach you to make your final decision about whether you want to spend eternity in Heaven or Hell.”
Back at the hideout, everyone watched the horror unfold on the TV news. “This just in,” the news anchor said, occasionally grabbing a towel to wipe his eyes. “Mere moments ago, the Reverend Jack Hurst and his false messiah had attacked the United Nations building following a failed nuclear attack on the pair. During this ordeal, the false messiah unleashed an attack upon the nation of India…” He paused to weep into his towel. “The nation of India, which was, completely destroyed.”
Jericho, leaning against the table, found himself squeezing so hard he broke a corner of the hard wood off.
Edward sat, open mouth crying. Annie had to breathe to stop herself from punching a hole in the nearest wall. Jennifer contemplated genuine murder for the first time in her entire life.
It was Raymond who broke the silence. “What do we do?” he asked.
Jennifer wiped her eyes. “We’re going to beat the fuck out of this bastard,” she swore. “How and why? I don’t know. I’m up for suggestions.”
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