Verbum Chapter Five: The Angel Called James

Being mortal has its drawbacks. Like the pain of smashing against a table and having a vase fall on your head. Good thing they were plastic flowers since getting wet as well would have been pushing it. James was probably knocked out cold for a few minutes. When he came to, he saw a man standing at the door of the apartment unit and looking around, searching for something. He froze, but the man did not seem to see him. He remembered he cast a Veil on himself when the demon attacked them but he was knocked out before it took full effect.

The demon! He started to panic when he saw the dead bodies lying outside in the hallway. Everything was quiet except for two men who was talking and crying. He couldn’t catch what they were saying since his mind was elsewhere. The demon must just be nearby. He could not let it escape and go back empty-handed. He closed his eyes and concentrated, opening his mind to his surroundings. Some mages call this technique “The Radar”, using your mind to ‘look’ around you. For others, it involves sensory deprivation to achieve an altered state of consciousness. For James, he slipped easily in and out of different levels. Of course, he could, given what he was before.

“Show me!” He uttered the command. In his mind was shown something like a virtual map of the surrounding area. He saw clearly the two talking men and the dead bodies outside. Further on, he saw the riot of buildings in Manila. In the distance, he saw the demon, bounding from rooftop to rooftop.

He got up quietly so the two men wouldn’t hear his movements. He tiptoed towards the door and stopped in his tracks. He was transfixed by the sight of the bigger of the two men. He was kneeling on the floor, crying bitterly.

“Jesse, what do we do now?” the smaller guy said.

So his name is Jesse. He could feel his pain pulsating out of him. But there is warmth, like that of the morning sun on a slightly overcast day. It pierces through the sadness wrapped around his being. He felt a weird feeling inside him, like icicles slowly melting. He waved his hand gently and let out a small wave of strength towards Jesse, enough to get him going through this ordeal. And then he clenched his fist and looked out. He couldn’t let himself be overwhelmed by this feeling right now. He’s got a mission to accomplish, a charge to complete. He can still feel the essence of the demon nearby. He can still make it.

With silent footsteps, he walked towards the smashed window and climbed out to the ledge. It’s quite a drop from this level but he saw the fire exit stairs and edged his way there. Before climbing down, he summoned the Hawks of Horus to go ahead of him and capture the demon. He made some complex finger movements and uttered the Greek words.

"Synechisei to drasti!"

Bright hawk-shaped beings erupted from nowhere and flew to the direction of the demon. He locked them in his sight as he climbed down the stairs.

At ground level, he started to run. The hawks flew at an incredible speed in pursuit of their target and then, as one, they dived. He heard the unearthly growling of the demon as the light-birds clawed it with their sharp talons. He turned on one corner and found the demon itself struggling in an alley.

“You’re not getting away this time,” he said. The hawk-shaped beings disappeared. The demon growled at James and spoke.

“Fool! Don’t think I do not see through what you are. But you are weak. You cannot vanquish me!” It spoke as if four different voices were speaking in unison. The sound grated in the ears.

“That does not mean I cannot try,” said James in a defiant reply. But what the demon said was true. Years in this mortal coil stripped him slowly of his powers. He had to learn the magic of the humans to supplement with what little remaining he has. It was a good thing he picked a few up from way back before his enslavement.

The demon suddenly lunged at him with its claws. Good reflexes saved James as he jumped back, throwing out a Golgotha Spell which nailed the demon to the ground. The demon howled in pain as it pulled out each wedge from its body. James did a quick follow up and uttered a command.

“Pagida!”

A bright net of white light fell over the demon but before it closed down, the demon breathed fire onto it and burned it away into nothing. James was stunned. This demon indeed is quite powerful, even the Philistine Net was useless. The demon then threw a huge fireball towards James and in the nick of time he was able to erect a Shield. He managed not to get burned by hellfire. However, he was still thrown back by the sheer intensity of the force.

“Fool of an angel you are!” The demon said and laughed. It bounded past him and ran away into the night.

***

“He failed,” Dan announced to the almost empty hall.

The man on the throne stood up, unfurled his robe and went down the dais. He approached a huge circle inscribed on the marble floor before the wooden throne. He whispered a few words in Hebrew and produced from his hand a burning sigil.

James materialized in the middle of the circle, lying supinely and coughing. He smelled of burnt sulfur and his hair was slightly singed.

“You’ve failed,” the man in robes looked down on him. “Your instructions were very specific and relatively simple, even an apprentice could have accomplished that in less time than you took.”

James tried to get up on his feet. “It was a high level revenge demon. My measly powers were no match for it.” He was gasping for breath. “Give me my sigil back and I swear I shall help you, Leon.”

The man he called Leon curled his lip in a wry smile. He walked around the circle and regarded James.

“You’re at it again, angel. Stop making flimsy excuses and do what you were told to do.” He walked back to the throne and sat on it.

“Three of my companions died, Leon. Four of us could not have faced it. We need more strength.” James said almost pleadingly.

Leon looked at him with a steely stare. “I have included you and treated you as a member of this ancient venerable order of magicians whose sole reason for existing is to preserve whatever sliver of order those before us wrestled from the clutches of a chaotic universe. You were never treated as a lowly servant spirit but as an equal among us. Yet, one simple mission and you fail miserably and it is by sheer luck and my mercy that you are still standing, groveling here before me. I do not care who dies or incinerates, as long as you accomplished what you all were tasked to do.”

James had no response to that but bowed down his head and clenched his fists.

“Forgive me. I shall recuperate and try once more,” he said.

“Of course you will,” Leon responded condescendingly. He waved him away and directed him to Dan. “Go with Daniel and see what you must do to prepare for this. You may leave the circle.”

James walked out of the hall, glancing once at Dan as he did. He was once a powerful angel until an oppressive requirement in The Mysterium trapped him to serve Leon Garces, 538^th Grand Mage and current leader of the Order. He wants to break free, to reclaim what he once was, and restore his former glory. But how does he ransom his sigil back? Leon is the god of this universe and everything else revolves around him and serves his every wish and desire.

He has to find a way. He vowed to himself that he will find a way.

to be continued

Verbum Chapter Four: Love, Lust, Lies

Jesse sat unmoving on his bed. His mobile phone, the one he forgot to put on airplane mode, had dropped to the floor just a few seconds ago and bounced somewhere out of sight. He was staring straight into nothingness.

How long has he been out? Just around eleven hours? And the day keeps getting worse. The reminder of his break up, the MIDI song playing on his head again, the failure of the Sleep Sigil and that bad dream, now this. Somehow it’s all very difficult to digest. His best buddy could not be dead. Maybe George was just pulling a prank on him. Maybe they were just trying to get him out of the house. He’s been holed up here for weeks after all. Maybe they were planning a surprise party for him. They did it before on his birthday. He wouldn’t put it past Marcus to come up with crazy stuff like that.

But something did not fit. George and Marcus already broke up a few months ago and it was absolutely messy. The social media was abuzz and dirty laundry flew everywhere from both parties. And in just a snap, everyone hushed and the dust settled. It has been like that for months and this was the first time he has heard from George since then.

No, it’s not a surprise party.

Jesse closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needs to see what happened. He needs to know for certain what this whole thing is about. He wants to see, if true, the lifeless body of Marcus.

He stood up from the bed and put on a pair of jeans and his jacket over the shirt he was wearing. He then scooped up his car keys and wallet and went out of the house. It was just around nine in the evening; people are still out and about. The day was just winding down. He looked at the people walking on his street and wondered if any of them were like him and the others. He felt pang of envy for the people who did not have the same abilities and skills that he does. The ‘normal’ people, some might say, blissfully unaware of the other society that exists alongside theirs, unknowing of the blessings and dangers that were just at their grasps. Yet he is a part of their society as much as they are in his. The only difference is their level of awareness. They all die in the end, anyway.

He shook himself out of these thoughts and got into his car, backing slowly out of the driveway. He then steered the car to the left and sped away.

***

George walked over and squatted by the pile of dust that was once his ex-boyfriend, Marcus. He scooped a handful and let it run through his fingers, pouring it on Marcus’ dried up skull.

“Look at you,” George said with a condescending smile. “Not so potent now, huh? You know, I just realized that earthy gray actually looks good on you. Too bad, you’re dead.” He let out a villainous laugh, but he was cut short when he heard some scuffling coming from the opened apartment unit owned by the girl who fell down the building. He stood up and looked in, brushing aside the yellow police lines. The place looked normal and everything was in place, save for the smashed table directly facing the door. Did the girl try to fight the demon or something when it attacked her? He realized he didn’t really care. He didn’t even know who she was and it was just the bitch’s tough luck that she ended up a couple of floors down with a smashed skull. He did another take of the unit just to make sure no one was really there before he went out. He let out a startled gasp when he saw Jesse standing at the landing of the stairs.

“What in the world happened here?” Jesse asked slowly, wide-eyed in disbelief.

“Oh my God, Jesse! You’re here! Oh my God!” George shrieked as he ran towards Jesse and hugged him tightly, sobbing on his chest. “He’s dead! Marcus is dead! Oh God!”

Jesse pushed the sobbing George gently away and went to each of the bodies. The Chinese-looking one had a rough hole on his chest as if it was blown away by a shotgun fire. Some ribs were even protruding and bits of flesh were dangling from them, dripping blood, which has begun to make a viscous pool on the floor. Another body that lay near the door had three deep claw marks from his torso up to his face, spilling his insides like a badly mutilated human anatomy doll. There was a circle of candles and in the middle of this were charred remains of something that was once human. It was evident in the dislodged arm that still showed some blackened fingers.

Still further, he saw a pile of dust with the remains of a skull, dried up as if it was a corpse long buried and then exhumed. He realized he was looking at the effects of the Sigil of Decay. His heart skipped a bit.

“Who did this? Who did all this?” Jesse asked in a low whisper.

“I don’t know, Jesse,” answered George between sobs. “When I got here, I just saw… I just saw all this.”

Jesse turned to George and grabbed his shoulders. “That can’t be Marcus. How can it be Marcus? How are you even damn sure?”

George, still crying held up his hand. “I found this by the skeleton over there. It was the ring I gave him on our third year as a gift. I had my name engraved on the inside.”

Jesse looked at the ring and let go of George. He turned back to the skeleton and fell to his knees. He buried his face in his hands and his shoulders shook as he soundlessly cried. His worst fears earlier were confirmed. This was not a prank. This was not a party. Marcus has been attacked by one of the most powerful death spells in existence. The man whom he considered his closest friend, almost his brother, who knew almost everything about him, has been killed.

George walked over to where Jesse was and knelt beside him. He put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder to comfort him. Jesse looked up and turned to him.

“Why are you even here? How did you know about this?”

George averted Jesse’s eyes and looked at the rotten pile. “I was just passing by the area and saw Marcus’ car parked outside. I haven’t heard from him for months, Jesse, and I figured maybe he was inside the car and thought to spring a little surprise on him. You know, try to be friends despite everything that happened. But he wasn’t there and then I heard some glass shattering from up here,” he pointed towards the broken window in the hallway. “So I went up to see what happened. I was scared, actually, everything was quiet. When I got here, I saw all this. I saw the ring and broke down. That’s when I called you.” He looked at Marcus. “I thought you should know.”

“Marcus called me this morning,” Jesse said, holding back his tears. “He said he wanted to talk to me. He said there was something that might interest me. I shouldn’t have dissed him like that,” he punched the floor so hard it vibrated on the walls. “I should have listened.”

George put his arms around Jesse and let him cry. He could feel the firmness of his deltoids and triceps, the warmth radiating off his body, the perfectly manly girth of his shoulders. Now he could understand why the jerk Marcus was so enamored with him. Jesse gave off an effortless charm, like it was some irresistible enchantment cast upon the unwary. If he hadn’t known better, he would have bedded this man ages ago, except that vengeance is the only thing he wanted now from Marcus and his circles. Whatever charms Jesse has will just burn in his hatred. Now that he thought about it, maybe he could still take that road. An idea started to form in his mind. He decided to go on with his charade.

“Jesse, what do we do now?” he asked Jesse.

Jesse felt a little surge of power in him. He straightened up, wiped his tears with the back of his hand, and took a deep breath. He stood up and looked at Marcus’ corpse.

“Here’s what we should do.”

***

Ever since he was a child, Dan has never felt quite the same as the other children. He knew all about dreams, and how everybody gets those sometimes when they sleep. They would even swap stories about them the following morning. But among his friends, Dan was the only one who had ‘other’ dreams. The sort of ‘dreams’ that he gets even when he knows for certain that he’s awake. Sometimes it happens when he’s half asleep, teetering on the edge of wakefulness. One time, he ‘dreamed’ of how his pet Alsatian will die while he was having lunch. He ran out screaming and crying, thinking his dog was already road kill. His bawling startled his Alsatian and it ran out of their gate and was run over by a passing car.

Dan told this to his mother, who assured him that he was just imagining things. He thought he was going crazy and will be locked up in a padded cell in an asylum, bound in a straitjacket like what he sees in the movies. But he knew he was not, except that his young mind could not be wrapped around the idea of the perception of reality and its nuances. He grew up harboring and suppressing this, until one day his uncle approached him and told him he knew of his ‘gift’. He brought him to a man whom he said could help him deal with his predicament in a productive way.

It was Levi Alcantara, the 537^th Grand Mage and then leader of The Mysterium.

Then he learned about his precognition and how to harness this ability. He was trained in the Order and learned much about himself and how the world and the Universe itself functioned by using his mind’s eye. He became the most powerfully accurate precognizant in The Mysterium, and his visions are on point down to the last detail. He could see both past, present, and future events with relative ease and rose up the ranks for becoming a very valuable asset to the ancient order.

Right now, both of Dan’s hands was submerged in a silver basin full of water. His eyes, all white, were looking straight ahead but on a totally different plane. He was looking at what just happened to the small group they sent to capture the rogue demon down in Manila. The water in the basin quivered and rippled.

“They’re all dead.” He announced with finality. His voice echoed in the impressive Hall of the Masters of the Temple. It was a long colonnaded nave, much like a Gothic cathedral. Portraits of past Grand Mages hung along the sides of the center aisle. At the end of this aisle stood an intricately carved wooden throne. Images of demons, angels, gods, and humans in battle adorned the high seat where a robed man sat shrouded in shadows. He stirred when he heard what Dan proclaimed.

“Just as I thought,” the man said.

“Wait,” Dan hurriedly said. “There is one more. He’s got faint silvery wings but they’re tied to his back. Its… it’s James. He’s going after the demon!”

“Of course,” said the man on the throne without much surprise. “Keep monitoring events.”

The man on the throne slunk back into the shadows even the glint of the ring on his finger could not illuminate.

***

Jesse wrapped his knuckles thickly with a piece of clothing ripped from one of the dead men upstairs. With it he smashed the driver’s side window of Marcus’ car and unlocked the door. Normally that is not possible, but things like this never bothered Jesse. Even without magic, he’s got the full physical force of a battering ram. He got in, five gallons of gasoline in tow, which he got from a nearby station.

“Are you sure about this, Jesse? What if you hurt yourself?” George stood beside the car, holding a bundle of cloth.

“I am sure, George. Just make sure to keep that intact,” he indicated the bundle he was holding. “We will need to burn that into fine powder. Get an urn somewhere.” He started the car and released the hand brake. “Prepare for a buffet. We will feed his family lies.”

He drove off, leaving George standing on the curb. “Poor sucker,” he said. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you a pretty little jar.” He walked off laughing.

Jesse gripped the wheel tightly and stepped on the gas. He was aiming for EDSA since at this hour of night, the trucks were already allowed there. From Taft Avenue, he will have to go around and make a U-turn near the Mall of Asia. Fuck that, he thought. He stepped harder on the gas and hit the MMDA fence and made a sharp left, tires screeching, the car’s windshield was smashed. He’s on a hunt. And he found what he was looking for. His expression was grim as he calculated his moves as compared to the rising dial of the car’s speedometer.

He opened the lid of the gasoline beside him and let it spill all over the floor. Any moment now, he thought. He gunned down the highway, heading towards the tail end of a ten-wheeler truck. As the truck drew nearer, he opened the door and jumped out, rolling on the pavement as he did.

The car smashed against the truck, metal screeching upon metal. The friction sent out sparks and ignited the gasoline and the car went up in flames within seconds. The driver of the truck did all he could to control the wheel as he skidded wildly from the impact.

Jesse stood up, he scratched his arm from his jump but it was just superficial. He cast a Veil on himself and watched as cars tried to avoid the burning wreck. He walked to a dark corner in the sidewalk and removed the Veil as he joined the other bystanders who happened to be there.

“And thus passes Marcus, my dearest friend,” he said to himself and walked away.

to be continued

Verbum Chapter Three: Curse Me Like One Of Your French Whores

“Surprise, surprise!”

George spread his arms wide and walked over to where Marcus was kneeling. Marcus was still too shaken too move even an inch of muscle since the demon was thrown out of the window. What ensued was a silence penetrated only by the sound of their shuffling and the occasional crackle of Rosie’s remains burnt to a crisp.

“Didn’t expect me, did you?” George said as he pulled out a cigarette from his jeans pocket and lighted it.

Marcus swayed his head to look at George in the face. His face was still spattered with Alvin’s blood, which has begun to dry.

“What… the fuck… are you doing here?” he whispered hoarsely.

“Sorry? Can’t hear you.” George took a puff from his cigarette and squatted down in front of Marcus. “You gotta speak up, you know.” He breathed the smoke out on Marcus’ face.

“I said, what the fuck are you doing here?” Marcus screamed as he suddenly regained his strength and tried to claw out George’s face. George jumped back and gave a throaty laugh.

“Whoa! Easy there, tiger. Well, to be honest, I missed you.” He gave a wan smile. “After we separated, I haven’t heard anything from you,” said George. He took another puff from his cigarette. “Not a text, a tweet, a Facebook message, or even a goddamn email. And here I see you, inches away from having your head chomped off by a ratchet-ass demon. Honey,” he tilted his head to one side. “What are you doing with your life?”

Marcus tried to stand up, shakily doing so. He tried to lean onto the wall nearest him for support. “How did you do that?” he asked. “How did you even know that?”

“Know what?” George asked in reply. “Oh, you mean that nice little magic thingy? I found it from a source with unbelievably copious amounts of information, even those that may have been buried in the past. It’s called the Internet.” He gave Marcus a sullen look.

George crushed the cigarette under the toe of his boot and walked over to where Marcus was standing. He lifted Marcus’ chin with a finger and looked him in the eye.

“I’ve picked up a trick or two from you, darling,” he said with a sweet smile. “Now, to answer your question. What exactly am I doing here?” he walked and leaned over the opposite wall and lighted another cigarette. All his movements were those of a man who has everything under control. Very far from the naïve, clueless guy Marcus knew and left just a couple of months ago. This is a different George. This is a man with a plan.

He tried to use his ability to try to read into George’s mind but when he peered in, everything was just cloudier. Tangled swirls of dark gold and grey smoke were all he can see in his vision.

“I’m here to end things between us. Some form of final closure so we can both move on,” said George.

“I don’t think there’s anything that we need to talk about,” Marcus said defiantly.

“Oh, I think there is. A lot, actually.” George gave Marcus a knowing look. “And don’t worry, this Veil of Silence your pretty friend cast still stands. Teneo!”

George waved his hand in a quick motion. Suddenly, Marcus felt his feet getting heavy, as if being held by strong invisible hands. He tried to break free and thought of a counter-spell for it.

“Taces!” George fired another spell at Marcus. This time, he felt his tongue stiffening from the base to the tip.

“No talkies, babe. You will listen. You’re my bitch now,” George said with a sly grin.

***

It was like a montage of random scenes, like most dreams go. And like most dreams, it started in the middle of things. No chance to give you a back story or a reference. Jesse was standing in his kitchen, holding a glass of water. The blackness from the window indicated that it was nighttime. Next thing he knew, he was in his car, driving down EDSA, or at least what seems like it. He sees a magnified version of a container van. No, the car is hurtling towards it at full speed. He looks at the seat beside him and everything turned black.

Next thing he knew, he was walking down a busy street in Makati when he heard three shots being fired and everybody started running in random directions. He was bumped by at least about three people, the last one was a man who crossed his legs with his and made him stumble to the pavement. He was falling face-down as he put his hands to his face to break his fall.

That was when he woke up, panting and gasping for air. That was messed up. Because the sigil he cast was supposed to give him a dreamless sleep.

***

“I know you were the one who tried to kill Jesse’s boyfriend. I know you've been secretly in love with your 'best friend',” George pointed his cigarette on Marcus’ face. “I saw you do that freak ritual in our basement last year. That was some shit, I’m telling you! All those light shows and that demon, just wow!”

Marcus struggled to wriggle his tongue to speak but it was as stiff as a stone. He wanted to explain that he had a higher motive in doing that. But all he could manage was a weak throaty groan.

“I got there in time, though. Countermanded the demon, overriding your charge,” George continued as he walked behind Marcus, tracing a finger on his shoulder. “Wasn’t really sure I could do it. You’re much more of a bastard than I am,” he whispered to his right ear.

“But I did,” he said aloud. “Just a little tweak in the words, really, and poof! Demon’s mine!” he let out a derisive laugh. “But not fully, though. That was the first time I did your shit and apparently I didn’t fully gain control, only enough to change the intended target. Let’s just say, he was collateral damage.”

Fuck, thought Marcus. So that’s what happened. And all along he thought that he misworded his charge, or miswrote a character in the circle. He had to give it to George though. No beginner can pull off something as complex as that in such a short time. It takes practice. He wondered what else George can do now that he has obviously learned a lot more.

“Quite surprising, huh? There’s another thing you need to know, and this is something a little more personal,” he looked straight into Marcus’ eyes. “I blinded you.”

Marcus’s eyes widened in disbelief; everything became clear to him now. For months, he hasn’t got a proper vision at his command. The swirling clouds have been a regular second sight and he had to crawl his way through things. Admittedly, he became dependent on his ability to see things beforehand. He had to look ahead to see the outcome before making any decisions in almost everything he did.

“You know why?” George continued. “Because you’re one big fuckin’ asshole, that’s why!” he screamed and slapped Marcus hard. Marcus nearly fell over from the force of it and his face stung.

“You fucked as much men as nearly the entire population of San Juan behind my back! And I am that stupid innocent schmuck believing every little lie that you said! I wanted you to suffer horribly for all the shit you did to me!” George was very hysterical now but he started to compose himself. He breathed deep and let out a sigh and smiled.

“You haven’t been living the life you should be living,” he caressed Marcus’ face where he slapped him. Marcus winced. “You were too dependent on these psychic divination shits that you have, letting Fate dictate your life, throwing free will out of the window. Really, I think I did more of a favor for you, darling.”

George held Marcus’ head in both his hands and moved his face closer to his. “But since you’re special to me, I’m gonna give you your precious powers back. You want that, don’t you? Huh?”

His palms glowed in a green light as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Marcus closed his eyes as well and felt the surge of power coursing through his head. He was starting to see clearly now albeit blurred. He still couldn’t penetrate George’s mind.

George took a step back and regarded Marcus, sarcasm dripping from his smile. “Look at you, all back to your normal shitty self.”

Marcus tried to move his tongue. He cleared his throat and tried to speak. George put a finger to his lips and hushed him.

“Now, let’s go and end this crap.” He moved his lips closer to Marcus’ and whispered in a sultry voice. “Curse me like one of your French whores.”

“You bastard!” Marcus growled. His fingers moved in a quick succession and drew a complex sigil in the air. “Subitosenium!”

At that same moment, George put up both of his hands in front of him, his palms facing Marcus, and intoned: “Speculum!”

The Sigil of Swift Decay that shot out from Marcus bounced back from George’s glowing palms and hit him forcefully. He was thrown backwards along the hallway and he felt his insides churning painfully. He squirmed spasmodically and let out a long scream as he quickly turned into dust from the inside out, until all that’s left was an echo fading down the hall and was absorbed into the Veil of Silence.

George stood riveted with every second of Marcus’ demise from his own Swift Decay curse. It was too quick, too fast. He wanted him to suffer. He wanted him to feel all the emotional pain he felt in a physical manner. But then, this death is good enough for him. The city’s biggest harlot in disguise has been brought to justice at last.

He took out his phone and dialed.

“Jesse! It’s George,” he choked his voice to sound like he’s been sobbing. “Marcus… he’s dead. I don’t know what happened, but it’s all messed up! You gotta come over quick!”

He clicked the phone to end the call and smiled.

to be continued