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 537th 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
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