Ashes To Ashes [Sort of NSFW]

Chapter One: Deliverance

Marrie had a strange feeling about the recent call. She had been writing up a report on another normal case, when she had been summoned to take this one on. Even Bill said something about it freaked him out, and he was usually the last one to get creeped out. So, what was it?

The little girl called 911. The instant the phones at the center received the call, the recording devices automatically recorded the call. The voice on the other end… It made her shiver. The 911 operator nearly passed out, and was sent home to get some rest. No one wanted to take this one on. But it seemed to be calling for her, reaching out, crying her name. But, what was it?

Her voice was so calm, but something about it… The word evil jumped around in her mind. She forced it out and concentrated on the road. An easy fifteen more minutes of driving. Just keep your thoughts on the road, she thought. Nothing’s bad about this. Get this silly feeling out of your head. Of course, it’s just another case. Nothing to worry about. The words of the girl echoed in her mind.

“Mommy left me…” She muttered to herself, resisting the urge to shutter. Those words had been said earlier today by a little girl. A little girl who seemed too calm to even be calling 911, to even have a problem. Something about this… It couldn’t be right. It wasn’t. Damnit Marrie. Get those stupid thoughts out of your head. There’s nothing wrong. You’ll just go in, find that the girl had thought that mommy had left when the babysitter was there apologizing profusely for the call. Then you’ll be sent back, you’ll write a report, and then you can concentrate on your family. Speaking of that, the mortgage is due. That’s more important than some stupid thoughts. Some stupid, empty thoughts.

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened as she approached the home. It was like a cloud was being cast over her, as if something was pressing down on her this very moment. The feeling was immense, oppressive. But, she drove on, and parked in front of the house. She shivered, despite the near triple digit weather of a sunny California day. She willed herself out of the car, and walked slowly towards the door.

She had her arms crossed against her chest, as if trying to protect herself. She nearly threw them down, angry at herself for being so childish. For Christ sake, she had put bullets in people. In living things, looking at her like she was Satan. How could this little house haunt her so much?

None of the lights were on as she entered the door. Marrie was nearly crushed by the oppressive feeling, but she paid no mind to the feeling, the voice in her head willing her to drive away, and write up a small white lie. No one would know. Come on, Marrie. The lights flickered on, only adding to the adrenaline pumping through her body. Damned creepy house. She walked on.

There was no one in the living room, only a black jacket thrown onto the couch without care. She walked on, a small hallway with two rooms on either side. One door was open, one closed. Both pouring out a feeling that shook her to the core. A feeling of evil.

She rested her hand on her gun, which sat waiting in it’s holster, like a horse in a stable. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, nearly causing time to come to a stand still. She breathed in, and exhaled. Then, she prayed.

Her head ducked into the doorway. Nothing. A sigh of relief escaped her. Just a little girls room, typical pink walls, plush dolls, bed with a bunch of pillows laying messily about. Unmade and messy. Typical girl. Then, she turned around.

The door flew open, as if a hurricane were sitting idly behind it, waiting to whir up. She closed her eyes, expecting the worst. Then, she saw something that was worse than the worst.

A little girl was sitting, arms wrapped around her knees, head looking toward the body on the wall. Lacerations on the stomach and head had poured out blood, which had spilt all over the floor, and the girl. Three giant nails pinned her lifeless body against the wall, one in each hand, and one piercing both feet. A crown of barbwire was wrapped around her head. Marrie stood, shocked, terrified. Adrenaline caused her to shake, and it was starting to blur her vision.

The little girl looked at Marrie. Her eyes were black. No cornea, no iris. Just two little voids. Blood matted her hair down on her head.

“Mommy left me.” Marrie screamed.

She fell backwards onto the floor, crawling into the little girls room. She took out her gun, and fired at the girl. The bullets stopped short of her target, and the girl just stared. Eyes so empty. So vicious. Evil. The back of Marries head hit the wall, and the door to the girls room shut itself, violently. She was trapped with whatever was in there. But she nearly felt relieved. At least now she was away from the girl and the crucified body.

The closet door was slowly opening. Marrie screamed again. Two red circles, as far apart as the average pair of human eyes, stared at Marrie as she put the barrel of her Glock17 to her forehead, laughing all the way.

[The first chapter of a story idea I've been experimenting with. It's going to be a horror/mystery. First time I've ever written in third person. I'll probably edit it later on.]

Chapter Two: Revelation

David cursed under his breath. He’d seen things like this before. But, a cop? He’d understand if it was just some normal person, but a cop? This was Marrie for Christ sake, she had taken down plenty of guys without hesitation. What made it come to this? Flashbacks? Nightmares? No, she was too strong for that. He knew her. There was no way in Hell that anything like that could even budge her. She was a tough girl. There’s just no way.

“Well, what do you think?” Huey was calmly looking in between the girls room and the crucified body. David shuddered. Huey had more experience with this kind of thing. He’d gone through Hell and back. Sure, David did serve a tour in Iraq. But that was nothing compared to the things Huey had seen. He’d seen some strange shit. Some, out of this world shit. David was relatively new on the force, which didn’t help.

“Religious murder, perhaps?” Huey shrugged, his large shoulders moving the suit jacket that was hugging his large body. Both of them looked like generic TV show FBI guys, and if you were to assume that about them, you would be right. Well, slightly, anyways. They were a kind of secret government agency type of deal. But not the normal kind. They were assigned to more… Paranormal, cases.

“That’s a possibility. But, what about Marrie?”

“That’s what we have Zeke for. We’ll look at the scene, make a report, and he’ll come to prove us wrong.” Huey laughed.

“Yeah. We know how that goes.” He sighed, and knelt down in front of Marrie, knees cracking along the way. Her eyes were wide open, scared, terrified, the bullet wound on the left side of her head had a burn surrounding it. She had done it quick, almost too fast. What was it that drove her to do that?

“Well then.” Huey stood up, and rubbed his forehead in that peculiar way he always did.

“I guess we wait.” David nodded. They both wondered about the girl that was heading to the station. What was it about her?

Chapter Three: Enter Zeke

Zeke pushed the crime scene workers aside. He knew what to do. And he wasn’t about to let anyone get in his way. This case in particular peaked his interest. A crucifixion? That was something his Sunday school had taught a while ago. It seemed a peculiar concept. Contradicting, too. Why was Christ so special when thousands had suffered the same fate? He felt a cringe as a small bit of guilt crept up inside of him. He shouldn’t think like that. He quickly apologized to God in a prayer, then headed inside.

David and Huey met him at the door.

“Well, boys? What do we have here?” David seemed a bit frustrated at Zeke’s address of them.

“Boys? Zeke, if you’re going to be calling someone that, look in the mirror. You’re only 17, we’ve actually had the expe-“ Huey cut him off.

“Looks like a religious murder, but we’re stuck on the whole Marrie thing.” Zeke nodded. Huey led him into one of the rooms. A body on a wall met Zekes gaze. But he didn’t feel a thing. He was already used to this kind of thing. Of course, he was young. But, he did have some of the experience needed to solve these kind of things.

The words of David stuck in his head.

Prick.

He shook them out as he looked closer at the body of the 30 year old woman.

“Anyone identified her yet?” Huey pulled out a clipboard.

“Kate Trunson, approximately 34 years of age.” Zeke nodded. He held up a hand to signal for silence. The room grew quiet. His focus caused the room to fade away, leaving only him and the body of the woman. He walked closer, and looked at her skin. One laceration on her stomach, one on her head. The one on her head was obviously caused by the barb wired crown that was hastily put on. The one on her chest wasn’t that wide, but it had to have been deep.

Sunday school classes went spiraling in his head. The barb wire crown represented the rose thorn one that Jesus had worn. The laceration on the chest was a representation of the spear that had been slipped through Christ’s ribs. There was a high possibility for a religious murder. If it weren’t for the fact that there wasn’t a bruise on the body. Of course, maybe the killer had just drugged her. But there was no apparent sign of struggle. Even her face had a peaceful expression, as if all was good with life.

“Well?” David rocked Zeke out of his own world. Zeke fumed. He had called for silence for a reason. He answered David through closed teeth and a tight jaw.

“If you would let me concentrate, David, I could give you some more answers. Now please, remain quiet until I speak again.” David shook his head. Zeke regained focus, and closed his eyes. He took three steps back, and opened them.

He saw the woman on some kind of step stool, a small ladder of some sorts for getting things off of high shelfs. She was taking off her clothes, and smiling at some stranger in the room. Of course, his face was black, pure black. Zeke didn’t know the other person. But he was seeing what was happening to her. The man also had a ladder, one of around the same size. The woman spread her arms out to the side, and stood tip toed with one foot in front of the other.

One nail was driven into her right hand. And she smiled. Zeke nearly lost focus. Why was she smiling? That was scary. Really scary. Another nail was driven into her left hand, and her smile grew bigger. What was this? A religious sacrifice? The final nail was driven through both of her feet, and she laughed. The barb wired crown was placed on her head slowly, agonizingly slow. Blood poured out from the four holes on her body, some of it spilling on the floor, but none of it on the girl. In fact, she wasn’t present during this.

A spear head was driven through her ribs. She smiled, tears came out of her eyes, and she fell limp. Seven hours later, we have this scene. Zeke blinked, and the world came back to him.

“It was a murder for sure. But, it seems Miss Trunson here did this willingly, without a struggle.” Huey cocked his head to the side.

“Willingly? I’ve been shot before, and I know that hurts, but nails like that? That’s bigger than any bullet I’ve seen. There’s no way-“ Zeke turned to face the agent.

“It was willingly. One sign that’s obvious is the fact that there are no bruises on her body. Of course, this could be explained by some kind of drug, and her face looking so peaceful could be another factor. But trust me, she knew what was happening.” Huey nodded. Zeke was the kid of person you could call, psychic. He always had a knack for crime scenes, his father was a detective, as was his mother. But he, he was a literal psychic, the definition of it.

Of course, there were other, ‘psychics.’ But Zeke was one of the true ones. Those other imitators were just good at solving crime scenes and tracking. Almost inhumanly good, but it was a skill that wasn’t psychic. Zeke could actually see the crime scenes when they were happening, in real time. That’s why he was called to so many of them. Especially by Huey. They had known each other for quite a while. And they trusted each other. David on the other hand, was just a young punk, really.

“We still have the Marrie thing to figure out. If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Zeke put his hands in his pockets to warm them up. The room, the house seemed so cold. Too cold. Perhaps part of the sacrifice?

Marrie looked so scared. Zeke closed his eyes tight, trying to keep the tears back. He was sort of new at this, he had to admit. But he had to get used to it. This was his job.
Come on. Get a hold of yourself.

He opened his eyes, and turned around. Marrie was screaming, the girl looking at her. Zeke nearly blinked, the girls eyes were black. Was this just because he had only seen a picture? Or was that what actually happened? Marrie fell backwards to the floor, and she pulled out her gun. She fired four rounds at the girl, and they stopped short. As if there was some sort of bullet proof glass in front of the girl. Marrie crawled backwards, until she finally hit the wall.

She smiled, laughed, and exhaled a sigh of relief. Then, the closet door started to open. She looked at it, and screamed. The veins in her neck and forehead were threatening to implode. Inside of the closet, two red eyes stared at her. Then, at him. He blinked, and lost focus.
Zeke walked backwards to the wall, and slumped to the floor, out of breath. His heart was beating rapidly, too fast to be healthy. David and Huey knelt beside him, not sure what was happening. They both stared at the closet.

Huey was the first to pull out his gun. David did the same, and they both kept them pointed at the white door. Zeke tried, to no avail, to catch his breath. Huey put his hand on the doorknob, and Zeke closed his eyes, too scared to look. He heard the sound of the door flying open. And nothing else. But he kept his eyes closed until he felt someone tapping him on the shoulder.

“There’s nothing in there, Zeke. What did you see?” Zeke wiped the sweat off of his forehead, and closed his eyes. This time, the tears forced their way out. Zeke pointed to the closet.

“Some… Something was in there. Something E… Evil.” David and Huey both looked back, then at Zeke.

“Well, there’s nothing now. Come on, what did you see?” Huey understood. He knew that Zeke could see the things that caused these kind of scenes, which was a whole lot worse than coming up to it after it had happened.

“Two red eyes. Marrie was staring at them, then she shot herself…” David knelt beside Marrie, and stared at the open closet.

“Anything else?” Zeke put his hand on his chest in a vain attempt to catch his breath, to slow his heart down.

“They stared at me…” Huey seemed to misunderstand what that meant, the importance of that previous sentence.

“Huey, those eyes looked at me. Not just at my direction, but at me…” Huey patted Zekes head, and helped him up.

“Well, that means we have something bad on our hands, doesn’t it?” Zeke just nodded. He would say something later. He had done his job. Hell, he wasn’t even required to say anything that day. All he was supposed to do was look. And he had done that. He couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel room. He was lucky enough to get a five star along the beach, close to Santa Monica. It was a nice resort. Better than anything he had ever called home.

“Alright. Well, we’ll wrap things up here. When you have a chance, head down to the police station and talk to the girl. And, call me tonight, tell me what happened. Alright?”

“Yeah..” Huey led Zeke outside, and they both lit up cigarettes.

“You smoke?”

Huey asked.

Zeke nodded.

“Only occasionally.”

Huey laughed.

“That’s what I used to say.”

Zeke smiled.

[I have more, but, I sort of don't like the way it goes. It's too, unrealistic. If anyone has any comments/feedback, it would be much appreciated.]

Chapter Four: The Little Girl In The Red Jacket


David didn’t get it. He didn’t get a single bit of it. He couldn’t understand why he had this shitty job. Nor could he fathom why he had a partner like this, or why everything seemed to be turning into shit nowadays. It was as if something was working full time against him. Like, some other force was keeping him from feeling the emotion of happiness, something David has almost never felt. As if God himself has bestowed upon him the curse of a million condemned souls just for shits and giggles. He felt oppressed, as if a mysterious figure was just clinging to his back, forcing him closer and closer to the shit trodden ground.

He smacked himself in the head. Get those fucking thoughts out of your head, David. You have an awesome job that people can only imagine, a hot as fuck wife, one beautiful kid, and so much other shit you should be smiling like some cocky fucker right now. He breathed in, and out. In, out, in, out, creating a constant, soothing rhythm. Meditation, just one of the many bullshit things David had picked up along the road to this day. With this kind of tension in the air, it seemed as if the world were meant for this day.

Huey came in, and threw his chair into the wall.

“MOTHERFUCKER!!!” The veins on his neck were threatening to erupt, and spew out liters of raging, boiling blood that seemed to just writhe underneath that thin layer of skin.

“She’s like a fucking rock!! I can’t believe it, it absolutely blows my fucking mind, David. It really does.” He cradled his face in his hands, and growled. David just sighed.

“She is a tough one.” That girl. Something wasn’t right. Hell, nothing was. She wouldn’t say a thing. No matter what. It was as if she was being threatened with death. Everyone in headquarters knew about her. Everyone knew about the case. They were jealous of David and Huey. But, most of all, they were scared of the girl. They all had a copy of that call. And all of them get chills, that feeling in your spine. Everyone did. No exceptions.

The girl in the red jacket. The little girl in the red jacket. Saying it, constantly, like it was her name. Something official, standard. Code Red. David laughed at the little joke inside his head. Huey looked at him, furious.

“What the hell is so funny, David? Really, tell me, because I would love a fucking laugh right about now.” David sighed.

“Huey, calm down. Just a joke I heard earlier today.” Huey laughed.

“A joke? You’re thinking of a fucking joke? Come the fuck on, David! Seriously?” David just shook his head. He stared right at Huey.

“Look, getting pissed isn’t going to help this investigation of yours, ok? Perhaps you should calm down a bit, and analyze her facial expressions. Maybe she was hiding something? If you would snap out of that little rampage of yours, you would be able to see that.” Huey just stared at David, angry, confused. Then, he blinked, and put his hands on the back of his head.

“Damnit, kid. You’re right. I guess I’m just used to retarded cases, if we get any at all.” David smiled.

“Good. Now, analyze, and, after you get some results,” David stood up, “Call me. Because I’m ready to hit the sack.” Huey looked at his watch.

“Alright. It is getting late. You head home kid, you’ve done good so far. I’ll wrap up here, then tomorrow, it’s your turn.” David smiled, picked up his bags, and left the room.

Chapter Five: Rest and Relaxation


Zeke really wasn’t planning on going to see the girl that day. Or, any other day really, for that matter. All he had planned on doing was sitting down, lazily playing Forza until he passed out. But, Huey had called, and it seemed he was at the end of his rope. Zeke sighed as he finished one last race, and got up. His white jacket easily slid onto his thin frame, and he headed out. No one knew his real identity, everyone knew him by Zeke. He laughed.

All his life, people knew he had talent. Born Dmitri Krat Orolov, he was raised in Volgograd for most of his childhood. All through school, he would get A’s, and nothing but. Instructors would constantly accuse him of cheating, even when they know he didn’t. Of course, he wasn’t that social, and kept to himself. But, some had a great interest in him.

That’s when the opportunity came. His parents raised enough money to finally move to America. It seemed like a golden, once in a lifetime chance. Until, of course, civilization met him.

Fucking people.. Always trying to be the best. Think they can run the damned world when they don’t have a clue.

The outside sun blinded him. The heat of California shocked him from his cold state, the extremely low temperature he kept himself at. He shivered, and opened his eyes. Fucking sun. Fucking people. Fucking country. Zeke spat on the ground, and walked towards the station. Then, he smacked himself, and headed for his Vespa. The scooters engine whined to life, and he hopped on.

He looked around him, disgusted. People with their plastic makeup, their surgeries. It only made them worse. Fake, detached. Trying to create a better reflection, all the while rotting on the inside, trapped in vanity and wrapped tightly in insecurity. How could these people live like this? So phony. He shook his head. Let them suffer. It was their choice to begin with. Damned people.

He took a right turn, and headed for the police station. A robust, kind looking officer with a warming expression nodded Zeke in, and opened the glass doors. Synthetic lighting burst into his eyes, sending them in a rage. He blinked, and ignored the minor pain. Huey greeted him, with David close behind.

Fuck that little twat, David. I could take you down in one damned hit.

“Took you a God damned long enough time, Zeke.” A quarter abruptly hit Huey in the nose, causing him to flinch.

“You know how I feel when you use the Lords name in vain, Hue. And, I like to work at my own pace, thank you. I’m the most important person here, treat me that way.” David sighed, glaring into Zekes cold winter eyes. Zeke bit his tongue, and walked on.

“Aren’t we high and mighty? Come on.” Fancy shoes tapped along the tiling of the floor, creating their own solitary beat. Zeke imagined a waltz in his head, creating notes at the rhythm of footsteps. Violins wept sorrowful melodies, cellos drowned out the voices of the dead. Overture. Crescendo. Angelic choir, raising their voices like the rumble of thunder, moaning for release. Wailing sounds over the beauty of life and the horrors of final rest.

“Zeke.”

Huey snapped Zeke back into reality.

The Phantom Opera will have to wait.

“Right in here. We’ll be in the other room, watching.”

David turned around.

“Detective Rodriguez.”

He sighed, and faced Zeke.

“Do we have any marshmallows, by chance? Some hot water, too. Steaming, perhaps.”

Both detectives gave Zeke a questionable glance, but Huey went in search of the requests.

He was in no place to question Zeke, he knew of his methods.

“And why will you be needing those? Odd choice for a meal.”

Zeke smiled, and looked at the girl.

“It’s not for me, it’s for her.”

David took a look at the girl, then at Zeke, finally giving up on trying to figure it all out.

Huey returned, holding both items.

“Now, is there a priest somewhere nearby? Someone who could bless this water?”

Huey pointed to an old officer standing at the desk.

“Ex-pastor.”

Zeke approached the aged fellow, and asked him to bless the cup of steaming water. After a long, awkward pause, the man did as he was asked, and Zeke stepped in front of the door with a smile.

Chapter Six: Scarlet

“Whatever happens, don’t come into the room until I tell you to. Can you do that for me, gentlemen?”

Without waiting for a response, Zeke floated into the room, confident beyond reason. The little girl in red, after days of bathing and rest, stared straight into his eyes. The paper cup and bag of marshmallows were placed on the plastic tabletop, and Zeke walked towards the mirror. He could almost feel the confused stares of Huey and David, but it was the eyes of the girl he focused on.

He shuffled sideways, watching the girls reflection, waiting for a change.

“If you love God, please raise your hand. Keep it there until I tell you to put it down, ok?”

The reflection nodded. And, no other movement occurred. Zeke turned around. The girl was raising her left hand. Looking back at the reflection, that was not the case. He smiled, and sat down.

“Thank you. Lower your hand.”

His heart raced on, realizing the situation at last, viewing all the possible events that could happen in this very room. Death flashed into his mind, but faded away, like a distant reverie. The girl seemed emotionless, but Zeke now had a clue of what lay hidden underneath the fragile surface.

“Now, can you tell me your name?”

Frightened eyes lay upon Zeke, piercing his mind. Go ahead, read me. I wont tell you shit. It’s all a matter of damned time, you little bastard.

“Would you want me to tell you mine, first? Will that make you feel better?”

She nodded.

“My name is Zeke. But, you can call me Z, or detective, if you want to. Now, what is your name?” She gulped.

“Scarlet.”

Fitting.

Near ironic, considering what she’s been through thus far. Covered in the blood of her own mother, while having a flashy red coat that of which she always kept around.

“That’s a pretty name. Scarlet. Tell me, can you remember what happened?”

A shake of the head further confirmed Zekes theory.

“Can you remember anything about your parents?”

“Mommy was always with me, and daddy left. He’s sleeping, though. He’ll be back.”

Death. Such a fragile little thing, she still didn’t know.

“I see. How do you like it here?”

A frown came on her face.

“I want to go home.”

Zeke pulled a crucifix out of his shirt pocket, and placed it on the table.

“Where is home, exactly?”

Her eyes widened.

Zeke breathed deeply.

A chilling air enveloped the room, cooling his body, and most importantly, the cup of holy water.

I have you now.

“I… I don’t know.”

Zeke kissed the ebony crucifix, and pressed the marshmallow against it. The girl grew increasingly frightened. Tension from the room opposite the mirrored wall flooded onto him like a raging waterfall.

“Wrong. Tell me, where is home?”

The girl shook. Her face became red.

A crisp winter air kissed Zekes forehead, slowly slithering onto the rest of his skin.

“I told you that I didn’t know.”

Zeke dipped the marshmallow into the cup of holy water.

“Wrong.”

With one swift movement, a soggy treat came flying towards the girl. The sound of hissing steam at the impact of the sugary clump confirmed Zekes greatest fear.

The damned kid is demonic. It wasn’t a physical person in that room. It was a spirit.

Scarlet fell out of her chair, and crawled backwards to the corner of the room, maddening eyes met his. Zeke held his hand in the air, signaling for the detectives to stay put. He needed to be alone. Only he was pure enough to take on this thing.

“Tell me where your home is, demon!”

Scarlet snarled, and let out a piercing shriek. The mirrored room open, and Zeke only prayed that it was the detectives telling the police to stay where they were.

“Christian ploys and tinker toys, your words mean nothing here. Hollow joys and prophetic boys, we live off Godly fear.”

Words bellowed out, in a tone impossible to be from a little girl. Zeke felt four eyes in that room. Two of the girls. Two of another kind. Dark, ancient eyes. Hungry eyes. Evil eyes.

“The power of the spirit is wielded through my words as I speak of the highest and one true God, and he speaks his words through me, his servant. Now tell me, what is your name?”

Her beautiful white teeth shone through an innocent smile. A calm grin sat upon her face, and her longing eyes stared right into his heart.

“Help me.”

It’s too la-

[At this point of time, while I was writing the story, I had a hard on for putting in biblical themes and christianity related events into everything I wrote. Also I loved russia. I think it sort of goes downhill from here, so I may or may not keep these chapters up. But, I'll post them anyways. Feedback welcome.]

Chapter Seven: Lost

A cut formed on the skin of her neck, and she collapsed to the floor. Innocent blood spilled onto the floor, creating a crimson pool around her empty vessel of flesh. Zeke sat still. This was all part of the illusion. Huey and David were seeing the little girl in the corner. Zeke was seeing reality.

The demon crawled out, bathing in the violation of Zeke’s mind. The being was projecting images that were illegal by the laws of God himself. But, they were real. In the spirit form, anyways. The being walked over, and sat in the chair. Blood soaked teeth shined amidst the fluorescent lighting.

“Scarlet, it will look like I’m talking to myself right now, but don’t be scared. Can you do that, Scarlet?”

Her dead lips moaned out a slurred response.

“I see it too.”

Zeke felt a bump form inside of his throat. He gulped it down, and faced the entity. Their eyes locked, and the tension grew. A fifty fifty chance of death kept Zeke’s hand on the Crucifix.

“Tell me Demon, what brings you into this fine world we live in?”

The thing cracked its neck, and opened its long decayed mouth. A putrid odor of death reeked from its cursed breath, tainting the very air residing in the room. Thoughts of poison crept into Zekes mind, but it was quickly dismissed. Only the most harmless of Demons had the need to use poison.

“We must bring balance.”

Balance.

If I had a dollar for every time I heard that one, I’d be fucking Bill Gates in the ass with a dildo made of dollar coins.

“Balance? What kind of balance?”

Its smile grew wider, and wider. Like it was waiting for the right question.

“To the world in which we belong.”

“In ours?”

A nod.

“Why does your world belong in ours?”

“It was ours once.”

“That was eons ago.”

“We do not know of time.”

Damned spirits. Get on with modern times already.

“But you must operate under His law, which is set in stone upon the time He Himself declared it so.”

“I am breaking them as we speak.” I laughed.

“And I’ll be fixing that in a minute, Demon.”

Come on you ancient fuck, get angry.

“You defy my will, flesh?”

“Your will is not His, and is therefore meant to be defied by those who follow His greater light. I simply go by how I’m told.”

“If I declared thee to join us?” Zeke let out a chuckle.

“Then I’d tell you to shove your dick in your ass, because that illusion doesn’t scare me.”

Zeke ate his own words as soon as he hit the wall to the right of him. A fleshy, blood soaked arm had swung into his ribs, nearly crushing them into powder. Upon the impact, his vision split into two, revealing two pictures of the Demon smiling at Zeke’s nearly unconscious body. His own mind cursing him, Zeke struggled to regain focus, sensing that the demon was nearing him.

He slammed the tip of his shoe on the ground, and waited.

Footsteps edged near him. Zeke slammed his shoe again. No click.

Oh, fuck me.

“How do you feel?” What the hell was it, demonic doctor Phil?

Work, fucking shoe, work.

“Do you feel, emotion?”

Zeke sighed, mostly from relief, but partially from the lack of air in his lungs. That was a common demon ploy. They forced themselves away from God, who is Love. They can’t feel a thing but pain.

Click.

You’re mine.

“Answer, flesh. How do you feel?”

Zeke smirked.

“Like a good pair of shoes on a shitty day.”

He threw his right leg upwards, stabbing the cross extended from the front of his shoe, right into the calf of the entity. Like butter, it ripped through, leaving the demon with one and a half leg. Seeing the shadow of the demon falling, Zeke rolled over, and thrust his toe under the demons chin. It’s mouth open, revealing a golden cross, black blood dissolving off it’s brilliant surface.

“There’s a reason I don’t like to fuck with you guys,”

Zeke stood up, wary of the distance between him and the arms of the entity, “Do you know why?” Slowly moving, he stepped his way around it, keeping as good of distance as possible in the small interrogation room. Zeke picked up the cup of holy water from the table, and stood behind the demon.

“You’re all a bunch of dicks. You make things harder than they have to be.”

Sparkling liquid poured from the Dixie cup, unto the right shoulder of the demon. It cringed, and slowly the water melted through, dropping its arm onto the floor. Soon, the removed appendage faded into nothing, turning into ash on the floor. Zeke repeated this with the other arm, then the remaining leg. The entity cringed, but didn’t scream.

“Now, let’s try this again.”

In the face of a demon, Zeke knelt down, smirked, and spoke.

“My name, is Zeke. What’s yours?”

The demon kept a blank stare, no blinking. It didn’t want to lose, but now that it was going to, it had no choice.

“Our names were lost.”

Zeke cocked his head.

“Why?”

“To heal his wounds.”

“Who is he?”

“Lu, my angel.”

Lucifer. God, why can’t there be some unique demon? One that’s on a different side. Different.

“So, you were there when He fell?”

It nodded. It’s eyes seemed to glaze over, long lost reveries coming back, memories of eons ago, when time was not constant. This one used to be an angel. One third of the ancient population of Heaven. It must have been a shame to find out that they were betrayed.

“So, you go by the collective name of Lost?”

Lost nodded. It must have been more than one, but Lost was at the helm. He made the major decision making.

“Who all is with you, Lost?”

Calling a demon by its name was like a hostage negotiating technique. It made them feel respected. And, honestly, Zeke did have respect for this creature. It was once an angel. Now, however, that changed.

“None others.”

“But you go by a collective name, Lost. If this is your name, and you said there are more than one of you, how can the others not be with you?”

This angered it. Zeke felt a colder presence in the room. A wrong presence. An evil one.

“We have not been found.”

“Who’s we?”

“My names.”

What did it mean by names? Just, names, or souls? Could have been both.

“Do you know where they are? Do they speak to you?”

Lost smiled.

Zeke bust out of the room, Huey and David both guarding the entrance. Zeke came into the room, attracting the attention of the confused police, sitting at their desks. He stopped halfway in the middle of both teams, and sighed.

Chapter Eight: Python

“All of you, front and center, now.” They looked at Zeke, agitated.

“Come on, just get up, form a line. I need to ask you all something.”

Slowly, and not without tainting the air with anger, the officers lined up in front of Zeke, around five feet away. Huey and David stood behind Zeke, who kept his arms folded around his back. Zeke stared down each officer, feeling an intense sign of annoyance coming from each individual. Huey and David moved their hands towards their weapons. A cop with a clean shaven face, around the age of twenty seven, caught Zekes attention.

“Miller, let me see your weapon for a moment.”

All eyes darted around, finally resting on Zekes outstretched hand. Miller, not wanting to question him, drew his weapon from its holster, and handed it, handle forwards, to Zeke. Zeke grabbed the revolver, and gazed at it for a minute.

“This is a fine firearm, Miller. Colt Python, made to specified standards. Not standard issue, right?”

Miller nodded.

“Now, what earned you this weapon? Must have been a rigorous exam to get this beauty.”

Miller smirked. Arrogant.

“I graduated top of the academy. I had the best shooting score in twenty years. They called me revolver, because I used to do tricks with this old Single Action Army my dad had.”

Boastful.

“I see. Those, spinning gun tricks, like on those Western movies?”

Miller nodded.

“I never did get the point of those movies. Huey, do you see anything good about those old films? I mean, what makes them so enjoyable?”

Huey seemed uneasy, and stumbled to find an answer on the spot. After a minute, he shrugged.

“Just, the way the action is, I guess. Makes you want to be a cowboy, a gunslinger.”

Zeke nodded, closed his eyes for a minute, then turned back to the revolver. He pointed it at the ground, and moved it side to side. Three copper reflections.

“Oh. Well, we all know those kind of scenarios don’t happen in the real world, right guys?”

Zeke chuckled. The rest of the police tried to smile, one laughed.

All but Miller.

His eyebrows twitched, he blinked faster. Prideful. Zeke tapped the tip of his shoe on the ground, and heard the most beautiful clicking sound ever made on precious, precious Earth. All eyes glanced down. Except for Miller’s.

Zeke slipped the loading chamber from its resting point, and examined the three rounds. .357. On one of the bullets, faintly in the rim, the one that would have been shot first, lay a crudely carved Z.

He put the chamber back in place, cocked the hammer, lifted the cannon, and fired into Millers left eye. Huey and David drew their weapons. The police stared, horrified, and ready to kill.

“Now gentlemen, let’s come back to class for a minute, shall we? Officer Ronald Miller, approximately twenty seven years of age, divorced two years ago, a year after he graduated from the academy of law enforcement of Los Angeles.”

“In the two years leading up to this date, all his surviving family, besides his children and ex wife, died. Most of them lived in different states. All the murders with either .357 rounds, or nine millimeter, the first few committed with the latter. Three months ago he was named a permanent resident of California, at which point the murders of his family ceased.”

“His wife divorced him for a few reasons, major causes were of spousal abuse and reported heavy drinking, but as you all know, Ronald is not a drinking man, nor has he been involved with any illicit drug. Only after he returned here from his erratic ‘vacations’ did he receive this weapon, in which he forged counterfeit documents claiming that it was a special issue. If you inspect the grip and the length of the barrel, you will find that neither of these fit special issue standards, they are completely civilian custom.”

“At around six months ago did the final three murders begin, all of which were with .357 rounds. His wife was taken into police custody, which after they were placed in the protection services, and thanks to the intuition of his wife, they’re still breathing. Now, look at this revolver. There are at least six months of more than active use.”

Zeke spun the barrel, and pointed it under his chin.

“Now, there are two rounds left in this weapon. Both of which, as far as we know, are brand new. Now, watch what happens when I pull the trigger six times.”

Click.

Everyone cringed. Zeke didn’t even blink.

Click.

David moved his hands toward the gun, but Huey stopped him. Zeke, unable to hear, blocked out the verbal argument between the two agents.

Click.

Nothing but the slamming of the hammer against the gun metal could be heard now. The officers, too frightened to move, watched, as the seemingly crazed lunatic pointed a loaded revolver to his head, and kept pulling the trigger.

Click.

The two loaded rounds were next to go. A metal hammer reeled back, ready to deliver the gunpowder charged death blow to the brain of an insane Zeke.

Time slowed, slow enough for Zeke to hear everything. He heard the wind break away from the speeding hammer, and the crashing of it against the primer. The primer went off, burning the gunpowder in the bullet, and an extremely deafening pop as the bullet left the shell. A spinning, lethal projectile sped its way towards the exposed skin, the barrel setting the lead slug on a deadly path of destruction, as the metal bullet viewed what was to be its final destination.

David cried out. The officers closed their eyes. Zeke lowered the gun, pointed it to the ground, and watched as the now disarmed bullet sluggishly dropped out of the gun.
The room remained silent. All eyes were in disbelief, switching back to Zeke and the useless slug.

Then Zeke pointed the revolver at David, and fired.

A gasp from every pair of lungs was emitted in unison. David’s eyes remained closed. The slug dropped to the floor. Zeke spun the revolver, and slid it onto his belt, an improvised leather holster made of a strip of cow flesh. Huey sighed, and tapped Davids head. The police stood, jaws to the floor, staring at the would be mass murderer.

“Millers family was atheist. Shelly, his ex wife, and her children, were Christian. Five months back, there was a report that they were shot at. They lived in Wisconsin at the time. Miller here took a vacation to Green Bay, straight into the house of Shelly. When Shelly arrived home, Miller raised this firearm, aimed for the head, and shot six times. When all of the rounds hit the floor, he simply got up from the couch, walked past her and the kids, and drove away.”

Zeke lit up a cigarette, and watched idly as a puff of smoke floated into the air, slowly fading away from view.

“His holster was unlocked, by the way.”

Zeke turned around, and walked slowly towards Scarlet, and knelt down beside her.

“How you feeling?”

Lost Reveries: Note #1

I write this in the name of God
May he help us
Foolish flesh
Deny thy flesh
Quit this foolish search
We will not be found
And we will win this earth
For Lu
My angel
Our light
Your rightful ruler
I die in the name of God
Quit your search
And be in the light of the True Sun

Chapter Nine: Hot check

Of course, the holidays. Renee had expected a few whackos. But not like this guy. Something about him just gave her the creeps. She turned on the screen, and greeted him,

“Hello sir, welcome to American banking, are you new here?”

The man didn’t so much as even blink. He just stared at the screen. Staring at her. She resisted the urge to shiver, and addressed him again.

“Sir, are you new here? If so, you’ll need to make an account.”

He blinked. Renee gasped. She didn’t know why, but every action that came from this man seemed to make her jump. And, he looked almost like the stereotypical movie villain. Overcoat, matching hat, dark, chiseled face, near black eyes…

“Renee.”

Renee stopped breathing. Her heart stopped. Time stopped. Everything stopped. And as soon as she knew it, everything started again. Her heart raced to speeds unimaginable. She turned around, and nearly puked.

This guy has got to go.

“Sir, please… If you’re not making an account, just, go away. Ok?”

The man didn’t move. And neither did Renee.

“Renee.”

Time froze.

So did everything else.

His eyes swirled like the most violent of torrents, and then, faded to black. Staring into these coals, Renee knew she was going to die. And she smiled.


His head came through the screen. Through the TV screen. Through solid cement and steel. Renee didn’t care. She didn’t care about the impossibility. This man was here to save her. To deliver her. To be her savior.

“You will write.”

Her hand found a pen, and scribbled on her clipboard. She didn’t know what she was writing. She didn’t care. As long as it was for him, she didn’t care.

His jaw opened. Wide. It snapped. And kept opening. He put his body halfway through the wall, so his torso was completely visible. His head hovered above Renees red hair. She didn’t care. She knew she had to die.

Acidic saliva landed atop her skull. Flesh melted away, leaving the smell of burning skin lingering in the frozen air. A tiny sheet of muscle and blood vessels corroded, leaving nothing but the skull to resist the loving poison. The enlarged jaw lowered, slowly swallowing Renees vision. Ancient teeth began to close around her neck. After pushing the skin, flesh broke, and the teeth sank into sinew, into blood, into human meat.

She kept writing all the way down.

Chapter Ten: Babysitting

Zeke walked into the living room, arousing Hueys attention. Huey stood, casual clothing, knife in the shoulder strap. It was a Smith and Wesson undercover Sentry knife, with a tanto point, the kind of points you see on those Japanese daggers. It cost him about 130 bucks. Zeke always wanted that knife. Huey’s had it for damned near a year. Only used it once. It was on a kid, mind you, but, he had a gun. Huey knew what he was doing.

“You really want this damned knife that bad?”

Zeke motioned for him to quiet down.

“Don’t cuss around Scarlet, Huey. I don’t want her to pick up on those kind of words.”

Huey shook his head, and looked down at Scarlet, all dressed up in her little red jacket. He smiled at her for a little bit. She was a cute kid. She had that innocent look about her, the kind that made you just want to give in to anything she asked for. She’d be a heartbreaker when she grows up.

“Sorry then, Zeke. Can we talk?”

Zeke nodded, and knelt down by Scarlet.

“Scarlet, can you go play in the room for a bit? Uncle Huey and I need to talk, ok?”

She laughed, that little girls laugh, and hugged Huey. Huey didn’t know how to react. No one had really shown him kindness for a while. Not since..

“Bye uncle Huey.”

She trotted off into her room. Zeke started up his console, and sat on the couch, with two controllers.

“Care for a round, detective?”

Huey sighed, and sat down on the cheap sofa.

“You know I can’t stand these games.”

“Yes, but, you do have skill. It’s a challenge to me.”

Huey laughed.

A challenge.

Zeke would always win, by at least three kills. What kind of a challenge is that?

“Well, detective? What’s the topic for today?”

Huey paused the game, unsnapped the shoulder strap, and put it on Zekes lap.

“Merry Christmas, Zeke.”

Zeke immediately took the blade from it’s sheathe, and inspected it. Huey watched him run his fingers on the blade, lightly, but he was still at risk for cutting himself. That thing was a razor.

“Uh..”

Zeke put it back, and unpaused the game.

“Thanks.”

Once he uttered those words, Huey felt the controller vibrate. Zeke had sniped him, right in the head. Odd way to say thanks.

“Listen, how about you come over for Christmas? I know how you miss your family, and, judging from your apartment, no one but you and Scarlet have been here. It’d be good for you to get a night out. Me and David were gonna hit a club after. You could join us.”

Zeke nodded. Huey just figured he’d be like that. Zeke was a solitary person. He didn’t have many friends, and his family was completely cut off. Hell, Huey was probably his only friend or family.

“That sounds good. Also, sorry.”

“Why?”

As soon as his controller vibrated, Huey knew why.

Zeke was a bit arrogant on these games. But, not around Huey. He was just a little jackass, that’s all.

“Well, is there anything new in the case?”

Huey sighed. Damn it. Kid was bored enough to think about work. He needs to get out more.

“One more murder. It’s a bit gruesome. We saved some pictures, since we had to move the body. It was in a bank.”

“I see.”

Zeke kept his full attention to the game, bound to win. He rounded a corner, but Huey stood ready with a shotgun. One blast was all it took.

“Damn it..”

Huey laughed, and got up.

“Well, I’ll send you those pictures. I need to fill in some paperwork. You gonna be ok with the kid?”

Zeke smiled, and switched the game to one player mode.

“Scarlet’s wonderful. We’ll be alright.”

Huey nodded.

“All I needed to know. See ya kid.”

“Huey?”

Huey turned around. Zeke had the game paused, and was looking down.

“Thanks, for.. Inviting me.”

“It’s the least I can do, no prob.”

Huey left, leaving Zeke with his controller, and Scarlet with her jacket.

Chapter Eleven: Weapon

Zeke walked calmly. He had the cover of a setting sun to conceal him from any potential eyes. Any watching eyes.

Ever since Zeke came to America, he’s been watched. It was like some stupid movie. But real. And unpredictable. Cameras and spies could be everywhere. He never went into alleys. Nor did he stay anywhere that was near a van. Zeke kept to himself, trying not to contact anyone. Of course, he’s been becoming lazy, but it’s still in the back of his mind.

This way.

Zeke nearly jumped. He looked all around him, and saw no one. It was night. Night could be dangerous. And it could also bring on his condition. He grabbed into his coat pocket, and opened the pill bottle.

Fuck me.

He was out. Of all the things that could ever possibly go wrong, it was this. As if it could get worse. Stupid city. At night. With other people.

He felt his own hand reach for the knife under his coat. Before thinking, he caught himself, and tried to remember where the local pharmacy was. A feeling of dizziness crept up inside of him.

Keep focused. It’s not like this hasn’t happened before.

All Zeke had to do was get to the pharmacy. That’s the only thing, the only thing that was wrong with his night. The only thing that was going to be wrong. Nothing else was going to happen, nothing. Nothing that could be prevented by a sane mind.

One box I haven’t checked off the list.

He walked in a brisk pace. Always would he know the way. It was essential. It was sane.

Come.

“FUCK YOU.”

His words echoed off of the city walls, directed towards no one in general, but they would gladly accept the ears of anyone who would take them. Zeke wasn’t one for discrimination.

Come this way.

“FUCK FUCK, FUCK YOU.”

He ran. His jacket struggled to stay in place, flapping in protest of a full sprint.

No this way.

“Shut, the, fuck, up.” He panted. He ran. The pharmacy lights seemed so far.

Wrong way this way.

He screamed the words in his mind. There was no time for debate, no time for negotiation. There was none, period. Never would there be. Never will there be. And there shouldn’t. He ran.

Don’t go there this way.

The voices weren’t normal. They weren’t the same. Of course, his head shouldn’t regulate the little insanities he suffered, but something wasn’t right about the voices. Perhaps he was mad at himself? He ran.

We don’t go there this way.

He had a Colt Python in the holster with six empty chambers in a used cylinder, and a knife strapped to his shoulder whose only blood was the blood of a child.

This way this way this way.

He ran.

THIS WAY THIS WAY THIS WAY GO.

He ran.

WE DON’T GO THERE THIS WAY GO.

He stopped running.

An alley was open and dark. His name being beckoned.

The smell of cats lingered in the air.

Chapter Twelve: Safety

I was in a place half past dead that I knew was safe but somehow I still shivered. I shivered at the thought of tails all around me. I thought they were fingers. I thought they were safe. I now know they aren’t. I figured this out at a time too early to be late. I shivered still. I wont stop until I’m safe.

For all their qualms they’re a trusting group. For all the names there’s a personality that’s the opposite of fitting but somehow makes the square turn circle. For all the fires on which stories burn there were letters that made them ideas in which I shiver in thinking.

When one ponders something above himself he shivers. When one shivers he’s afraid. When one’s afraid he does not understand. When one does not understand he ponders. When there is a cycle it isn’t to be broken until one finds the missing step.

I felt safe among the tails but still I shiver. For as I shiver I ponder. When I ponder, I don’t understand.

Sometimes a get a little lost in your action, like when I had to go back to figure out the first character was dead or Scarlet was still alive (I thought the demon killed her as he came out.).

Also needs more living tits.

Other than those two, it's a very suspenseful story and a very addicting one at that.

HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK I ONLY FINISHED THE FIRST CHAPTER AND WHAT THE FUCK

Translation: This is an example of an amazing story and I'm going to stick this to the refrigerator.

Chapter Fourteen: Interrogation

David stared at the girl. The girl stared at the ground. Huey stared too. He couldn’t tell who the moron here was.

“Hey, uh, Huey?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t even make it a question. Like he was focusing really hard on a blank spot on the ground, trying to see what would magically pop out of the concrete floor.

“What exactly are we looking at?” Huey didn’t respond. My god.

“Hey, Huey, what are we looking at?” He shrugged.

“Zeke told me to concentrate. That’s what I’m doing. He said something was wrong and Scarlet could see it, and said that we could too if we concentrate.” David blinked four times in succession. What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

“So, there’s something that the little girl can see, but we can’t, and you’re believing the ‘psychic’ and staring at the ground, squinting your eyes and trying really really hard to see what we don’t know is there? Is that what you’re saying?”

He nodded.

He just fucking nodded.

He never just nods.

He always says something.

God damn it.

“Ok, fine. You stare, I’ll go ask again why we’re doing this. This looks like some stupid shit if you ask me.” David turned to leave the room, but as he grasped the knob, Huey called out. David couldn’t understand.

“What’d you say?”

“Get me a coffee, please.” David boiled. Fucking stupid fucking job. Get me coffee. Look at this. Dohohohoho.

The two way mirror room’s door was open. Zeke sat inside, staring at the two. Looks like he won the prize.

“David.” Here we go. Another bullshit chat about stupid crap.

“Yes, Zeke?” David waited for a response, but from the room came none. He shrugged and started for the coffee machine when Zeke called again. David composed himself, and stepped in. Zeke sighed. So did David.

“Listen, I realize that you don’t like what we’re doing-“

“It’s stupid.” Zeke looked away. What a puss.

“It may be to you, but I don’t think you fully understand whats-“

“Oh I think I do. And I don’t like it.” He shook his head.

“Then what do you think it is?”

“Something stupid. And that’s why I don’t like it.” He sighed again.

“You just don’t have the focus.”

“Zeke, how old are you?” Zeke looked over at David, confused.

“I beg your pardon?”

“How old are you?”

“That’s not relevant to the job-“

“Answer the question Zeke.” One again, a sigh. This one with a slight growl. He was getting mad.

“Here, try one of these.” A stupid finger pointed to a stupid bottle of pills.

“The fuck? Aren’t those your crazy pills?”

“Yes, they are. Try one.”

“Are you insulting me?”

“No, David. My prescription has the effects of lowering your resting heart rate and clearing your head of all the rambling thoughts we all have, among other things that I think may aid in your concentration. Here, give one to Huey too. Wait about thirty to forty minutes for it to kick in.”

“What if we’re allergic?”

“You’re not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I do. Now please go give one to Huey, at least.”

“Sure.” David really didn’t want him to say anything before he could walk out.

“David, wisdom does not come with age, it comes to those who realize that their time is limited.”

He really wished that Zeke didn’t say that.

“Where’s my coffee?”

“You know I really hate you all sometimes.”

“That’s nice, get me my coffee.”

He got the coffee, and just out of the slightest bit of hope and a cup of curiosity, took a pill.

Just finished reading them, and they're pretty good. I agree that I get a little lost at times, although it's still a cool story. Finish the rest nao.

I shall. Actually trying to write it as I speak.

Chymeraxe wrote:

I shall. Actually trying to write it as I speak.

It's December 15th.

igott wrote:

Chymeraxe wrote:

I shall. Actually trying to write it as I speak.

It's December 15th.

Hey man. It's finals week. I can only do so much.

I know, I had it off today seeing that I'm exempt from 2/7 of my finals.

Fuck Honors Classes.

igott wrote:

I know, I had it off today seeing that I'm exempt from 2/7 of my finals.

Fuck Honors Classes.

Lol. I wont have to worry about it on Friday though. I only have one final that there's absolutely no way I can fail, and even if I didn't take it I'll pass the class.

So, I'll probably start writing then. You'll have your fix of my story sir by the end of the weekend, don't worry.