The Esoteric Design Page 12

  It was the pain he deserved, the punishment for his sins, the sins that God himself could never forgive.

  “Forsaken,” Dovian hissed, his hands gripping at the stone notches. “Forsaken by my own people…forsaken by my God….”

  Thunder growled back in reply, reminding Dovian of His boundless presence. Dovian could feel the smolder of thousands of eyes upon him. He knew they were watching from the heavens. The great, beautiful promised land. The place Dovian would never step. He was stuck in a never-ending purgatory. A thin line lay between this world and Hell. Dovian could feel it nearing. The heat of all sin was rising, coming even closer to the surface.

  “It’s too soon….” Dovian coughed. He knew that was a lie, he didn’t spend his time wisely. The prophecy said it would be coming and that, in the end, Dovian would have to face fate. He would have to come out of darkness in order to fight it. He would have to make the hardest decision of his life. He would have to decide the fate of the planet.

  “Why me?!” the priest shouted at the heavens, the water washing away the dust on his cheeks. “Haven’t I done enough?! Haven’t I suffered enough?! Why me?! Why must I choose?! Why must I be the one to bear the weight and shame?! Why must I be the one to suffer? Why should I be punished when I was the one who cleaned up Your mess?! Why have You forsaken me after all I’ve done for You?! What do You want me to do?! What do You expect me to do?!” Dovian continued his ravings, lowering his head to the dirty floor, letting the water and mud soak his robes. His ceremonial dress was once a sign of high honor. Now, they were nothing more than drapes that covered his body. He had no status; he had no class, and he had no honor.

  There was movement in the shadows.

  “No,” Dovian chuckled lowly to himself. “Not quite alone.” He turned his frosty eyes toward the source of the noise. “Nope! You left me with the magnificent presence of the LIZARDS!” the man cursed, glaring at his lanky friend that scuttled toward him. The lizard hissed happily, its tongue reaching out to smell the humid air. “Leave me be, my friend. I am not well at this moment.” Dovian waved at the creature. Sadly, Lizards didn’t speak any known language, and the creature only skittered closer, its front legs standing atop the stone pillar Dovian lay across.

  “Hrm, I don’t have any food,” Dovian muttered, waving the creature away once again. It crawled onto the man’s shoulder, hissing. The reptile’s swollen belly drug across the man’s shoulder blades. Dovian chuckled like a mad man. “You’re better fed than me anyway.”

  ‘Why…why must my only companion be this sad creature?’ Dovian felt the sting of tears in his eyes. ‘He’ll only die like all the others. How many times must I grow attached to something and watch it die?’

  The reptile rubbed its nose in Dovian’s ear, snorting. Dovian stifled a laugh, the hot breath tickling him. The laughter only made tears fall from his eyes.

  “Please, Hector, my friend…you’re only making things worse right now. Go look in the library.” Dovian pointed a long finger toward the room in the far corner of the dark hall. “There may be some dried meat left in the bottom drawer.”

  The lizard, Hector, hissed and turned his gaze toward the pointed finger. Its golden eyes followed the invisible trail leading to the library. With a snort, the creature hopped, making a soft plopping sound as it hit the slippery marble floor and scampered down the hall into the library. Dovian waited a moment to hear the crashing sound of miscellaneous objects falling over in the lizard’s frenzy to find the hidden snack.

  “Fat bastard.” Dovian shook his head.

  His body shivered, suddenly frozen by the rain. His fit of rage and pain had subsided for the time being. The priest stayed, however, letting the precipitation shower against his body.

  ‘You’re going to make yourself sick,’ his thoughts lectured. Instead of listening to the warning in his brain, Dovian lifted his palm into the air, letting the rain droplets splatter against his bare skin. The rain felt like pins and needles, reminding him that he was indeed still alive and capable of feeling physical pain. Thunder growled in the distance, but this time from the opposite side of the kingdom. The storm had passed over and was falling away toward the distant, empty lands.

  “Does it still rain where there is no soul?” Dovian whispered to himself. “Is there still thunder?” He sat up, his hood falling from his head. “I wonder.”

  The tall man slowly stood; his robes added twice the amount of weight to his body, as they were soaked through. Dovian stared at the doors enclosing him within the cathedral. It had been a while since he had gone out. And Dovian knew it wasn’t healthy to stay indoors all the time. Cabin fever was such a pain. He waited another second or two, deep in his thoughts, debating whether he should go out or not. Then he made his decision, and in a flash, the man was out the door, following the rainstorm to see how far it would go before it disappeared.

  Hector scratched at the wrapper around the dried meat. Agitated, he took the entire package into his mouth and swallowed. Sure, Dovian had punished him many times about eating the wax paper covering, but Hector was hungry and didn’t care. Besides, the meat was so tasty that the future tummy ache would be worth it. With a lizardly smile, Hector licked the last remaining crumbs from off the dusty ground. He lifted his head and poked his tongue out. Sure enough, the air pressure had changed. As fast as the plump lizard could move, Hector dashed back out into the center of the cathedral where he had last left his master.

  Not there. The creature shifted his head side to side, waddling toward the destroyed pillar on the floor. He crawled on the stone seat and plopped into a sitting position. Cold air rushed in from the open entrance to the church; the weighted stone doors banged against the wall. Dovian was gone. With a huff and an expansion of his neck flaps, the lizard laid its head down, waiting for his friend to return. He wondered how long it’d be this time. Hector suddenly cursed himself for eating his last treat in one gluttonous bite.

  "I Have Lots Of Friends"

  Chapter 7

  “Alright you two…this is it,” Gavin’s smooth voice called noisily over the intercom, jolting the two soldiers from their daydreaming slumber.

  Aria leaned forward as the Hawk 90 jerked to a slower speed. Looking out the small window by her side, she gasped silently at the swirling clouds directly beneath the Hawk. The aircraft trembled with turbulence. A low roaring sounded as violent winds crashed against the sides of the vehicle.

  “Seems a storm has just passed through,” Gavin’s voice scratched through the speakers overhead. “My radar is showing everything is clear, but it seems another thunder cluster-fuck is headin’ our way.”

  “How long we got?” Aria called through her mental chip, pressing a finger against the small bump behind her ear. Her breaths were heavy from the oxygen mask that covered the lower half of her face.

  “Looks like fifteen, twenty minutes. Once that storm hits, I don’t know if I can keep up contact with you. I’ll have to set her down somewhere or pull her away from the island at a safe distance. Judging by the size of this thing, looks like you guys could be down there for a while.” The pilot tapped on the compass on his instrument panel. The red pin spun wildly from side to side. “Looks like an electrical storm, too. You guys may want to make a mad dash for it. I don’t know how bad this thing is, but if it’s already messin’ with my gauges, I don’t want to be in the air when it hits.”

  “Okay, Gavin. Try to keep contact the best you can. I’ll try setting my GPS. If you don’t hear from us for a while…I want you to try to get an overhead view of our situation once the storm passes.” Aria gripped the parachute, tugging the straps around her shoulders and middle section over the top of her pressure suit.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t leave you two stranded. If all else fails, I’ll bring the cavalry.” Gavin looked over his shoulder and smirked, giving Aria a wink from his seat in the cockpit.

  Her eyes crinkled from her hidden smile. “You get us out of this mess safe and sound and maybe
you’ll get that date you always wanted.”

  Troy tugged on his safety pack, switching gazes between the two others.

  “Hot damn. That, missy, is a promise,” Gavin hooted.

  “Are you two done flirting?” Troy grumbled through his own mental chip, kicking open the cabin door of the aircraft. “I’d say ladies first, but I don’t see any.” He made himself cross-eyed as he taunted Aria and quickly tugged on his goggles.

  “You’re the only lady here, Troy,” Aria snarled and lunged forward, shoving the man from the cabin. “Keep a close eye on us, Gavin.” She waved a small salute to the pilot, slipped her goggles over her eyes, and dropped weightlessly, backward into the air.

  Aria’s limbs, spread in all directions, pressed back against the force of gravity. She felt heavy against the wind, yet light as a feather as she fluttered down toward the earth. It was a giant blue marble, curving against space. A pale-white glow emanated on the horizon, filled with voluminous grey billows. Flickers of light danced along the charcoal clouds, filled with electrical storms humming and buzzing around the militants as they free-fell toward the lush land thousands of meters below. Large gulps of O2 filled Aria’s lungs; the crisp air made her nose tingle. Her vibrant eyes watched the man below her, spinning slowly in circles, a gloved hand grazing the sides of the nearby black cumulonimbus clouds. Aria lifted her hand off to the side, her fingers trailing through the vapor. A small tingle ran across her fingertips, vibrating through the glove. It was an intense electrical storm.

  A small bump jerked the woman back into an alerted state. Troy had slowed up, running into her side. Aria glared at the man, but he only responded with an eye crease as he apparently smiled at her. A violent flash lit up the area; a bolt several meters away dashed from one cloud to another, surging toward the earth. A second later, a deafening explosion of sound erupted, sending tremors through the couples’ bodies. They met each others’ wide-eyed stare.

  “Uh,” Aria mumbled before fading into a laugh, the sound muffled through her oxygen mask. Troy joined her, chuckling as the flashes of light danced around them. “Whoo hoo!” Aria cheered loudly as another blast of thunder erupted angrily from the bolts.

  Glancing at the altimeter on her DNAIS, she patted Troy on the shoulder and signaled for his parachute. They pulled the chords; their bodies jolting as the giant chutes fluttered open, high and wide, slowly bringing them safely toward the ground. They spiraled on the skyline and descended one after the other, Troy not so gracefully, onto the plush grass. Aria landed with legs straight out, sliding back onto her feet. Troy dropped, boot heels chunking out the soil as he plunged onto his rear end. The woman detached herself from her parachute and unzipped her suit. She looked upward, removing her goggles and oxygen mask. The dark sky swirled like a typhoon around itself. The previously cerulean atmosphere was now a muddy mess of grey, browns, and even an ugly yellow as the storm grew wider and deeper. Aria felt as if the clouds would be close enough to touch in a matter of minutes. Violent streams of electric current spiraled from the dark masses; far off in the distance, a couple of funnels twisted and flickered violently. It was in stark contrast to the vibrant green plant life of the grassland Troy and she was currently standing in.

  “Damn…” Troy’s voice interrupted the woman’s serenity. He tugged off his thick goggles, gaping in awe at the landscape. His eyes looked over the electric shocks, down toward the silver lakes at the bottom of a deep valley. The peaceful bodies of water began to ripple in the wind. Something caught his eye; a dark shadow passed over the scenery, reflecting against the slapping waves. “Hey.” He pointed a gloved finger, looking up toward the sky. “You see that?”

  Aria narrowed her gaze onto the shadow then lifted her head. With a wide wingspan, flapping effortlessly through the storm, a black silhouette flew across the horizon down into the valley toward what appeared to be a desolate city.

  “Yeah.” She glanced at Troy. “Half-man, half-beast?” she inquired.

  “Or some giant, great albatross,” he suggested. Aria snorted. Troy had a thing for albatross. She didn’t really think it was because it was an extinct bird that had a supposedly massive wingspan; he liked it because he thought it was a funny-sounding name. Troy cawed loudly to himself as he trudged forward, waving his arms like an idiot with his parachute trailing behind him. The woman sighed, following after him.

  The rotunda was particularly stuffy, slightly humid with a stale stench. It was full to the brim with dark-colored business suits, most of which covered the bodies of the big-name CEOs owning most of the militaries and prime real estate of the city-states. James Clarke twirled his fingers around his wine glass, swirling the blood-red liquid; the color matched the floor-to-ceiling drapes of the vaulted room. The dry taste of the drink wasn’t helping his already parched throat. He could sense the tension in the room, a few stares and murmurs directed his way from the suits.

  “I just don’t want to lose any more money than I already have!”

  “Oh, please! What do household cleaners have to do with this disaster? I have three buildings that need to be rebuilt!”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but my stock has risen substantially due to this disaster.”

  “Only because you are in the weapons business!”

  “What can I say? War pays.” A greasy smile spread over the bigwig’s face. A couple of chuckles sounded across the room.

  “My hospital is paying, that’s for sure! I’m way understaffed as it is; I’ll have to bring in doctors from the neighboring city-states! And that ain’t cheap!”

  “Did you hear about Jordania? Apparently they were all wiped out last night.”

  “What do you mean wiped out?”

  “Gone, off the grid. My sister-in-law’s cousin owned a lot of militaries up there. He lived in the city. I guess there isn’t anything else much left of the mess.”

  “What caused it? Those things?”

  “I’m sure it’s just some rogue military branch. Russite hasn’t had much to say about the whole ordeal. I’m sure they’re involved.”

  “It could be anyone’s military, don’t blame the Russites!” a burly man protested.

  The arguing and complaining created a humming in the room. It was mindnumbing, hypnotizing in the waving sea of grey overpriced double-breasted suits–a contrast to the scarlet curtains, the golden ceilings, and chandeliers which danced sparkling glints of light across the space and against the glasses in every man’s jeweled hands.

  “And what do you plan to do about all of this?” Mr. Walten, a clean-cut young man with good fashion sense, tapped on the honey-colored table centimeters away from James’ hands. His caramel eyes matched the older man’s. Walten, though the youngest, was the richest man in the room. He had his fingers in nearly everybody’s pie—home products, medicine, agriculture, natural resources, weapons and defense, and biotechnology. He was the CEO and owner of Bio-Tech Military Corporation along with fifty other industries. He was James Clarke’s boss, the one who pulled the strings and made all the final decisions with the company.

  “Well, it’s currently under investigation.” James shuddered under the dozens of eyes upon him. “I’ve got a unit deployed who are investigating a received tip.”

  “A tip?” Walten smirked, sipping from his glass of brandy. Slowly, he ran a hand through his slick, chestnut-colored hair.

  “We’re still unsure as to whom the person is or whether he is a friend or foe, but it merits investigation. I’ve also deployed multiple units to designated locations around the world, areas where we can only speculate future encounters may occur. As of now, nothing is conclusive.” Mr. Clarke coolly drank his tart wine.

  “Of course not. Nothing is conclusive when you’re talking about monsters, right?” Walten laughed. This hollow sound was mimicked by many others in the room.

  “We’re unsure as to whom or what attacked us. That is also under investigation. Dr. Camery, our top scientist, is currently analyzing all collected dat
a.” James narrowed his gaze, not much liking Walten’s amused look.

  “I’m very interested, President Clarke, as to what, exactly, this tip is that was given to you.”

  “It was the name of a location,” he answered quietly.

  “Oh, come on. We’re all shareholders with the company. I’m sure everyone here would like to know where their funding is going.” A few murmurs of confirmation rallied in the room, leaving the President in a tough position.

  “The location that is currently under investigation is Ives,” James finally muttered through gritted teeth.

  Laughter filled the rotunda. “Ives!” Mr. Walten giggled as he raised the glass to his lips, his expensive ring clinking against the diamond-cut crystal. “Investigating fairytales?”

  “Do some research….You’ll find the connections. There’s a real possibility that there could be private militaries set up there. A whole new civilization could have birthed there over the past thousands of years. As asinine as it sounds, it certainly deserves its own theories.” Clarke’s tone raised slightly as the laughter ensued. “I’ve got my best down there. If anything is there, they will find it.”

  Walten slammed his glass onto the table. Quickly gaining his composure, he straightened his crimson tie. “Mr. Clarke, I certainly trust your intuition just as my father had. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have allowed you your current position. As such, I am very interested to hear your results. Just let me remind you, however, we don’t fund ghost hunts.”

  The roaring laughter continued. CEO Walten gave the President a small wink and finished off his brandy. He clapped his hands together and politely dismissed himself, giving out numerous handshakes and pats on the back as he and the other elitists slowly exited the room, leaving the ruffled caretaker of Bio-Tech to himself. James gave a small salute with his glass and emptied its contents.