ideas and conjuring transgressions.
Hatred shall spread until the world runs red with the blood of the fallen. The
darkness shall fall, and the darkness has a name. That name is Sonneillon,
fourth in line for the throne of hell itself.
Weep
not for the brothers lost, weep not for the sisters gone, weep for the souls
that are left to suffer under the demon’s wrath, for none shall survive.
The
visions began anew. Neighbor fought neighbor, lover against lover, peace was no
more than a memory. Hate saturated the world as every fear was brought forth
and manifested tenfold. In that fear there was anger and resentment that could
not be pushed down. Emotions ran rampant and all good fled from the world.
I
gazed out upon Chicago, a city I’d seen a million times. The roads were covered
in bodies of those left for dead. Smoke rose from the skyscrapers that were set
ablaze. The city I loved so much was nothing more than a raging war zone. Only,
there was no invading country, no true enemy. The truth came rushing in. If I
didn’t stop this darkness, the world would be no more. Everything I loved,
everything I held dear, would be wiped away.
A
man ran past me, pure terror etched upon his face. He screamed as a knife flew
into his back from somewhere behind me. I turned to see another form moving
forward. The man, or he’d once been a man, moved towards his injured prey. A
look of delight filled his eyes as he walked more closely towards his prize. He
turned his head towards me, sniffing the air as if he could tell I were there.
His
eyes locked upon my position and I froze, unable to think. Where his eyes had once
been there were now gaping chasms. Black veins moved outward from the sockets
moving over his face to form a dark mask. His mouth dripped with black fluid
and his words came out a hiss.
“Seer,
you aren’t strong enough," He slurred before turning toward the man
before him. He jumped upon the soon to be corpse and ripped into him over and
over again with the knife, giggling maniacally as he worked. The laughter
turned my stomach and I sought my way back to the present. This couldn’t
happen. This had to end.
I
was once more curled into the fetal position on the floor. My stomach lurched
and I ran towards the closest trashcan, emptying the contents of my stomach.
The smell of the burning city still caked my nostrils as the sound of deranged
laughter rang in my ears.
“This
is the end of the world, isn’t it?” I breathed out.
“What
did you see?” Kennan moved towards me with a handkerchief.
“I
saw what will happen if we can’t stop this darkness from coming.” I
looked up from the trashcan with tear filled eyes. “We have to stop
it," I pleaded.
“We
will, Izzy, we will.” Kennan carefully rubbed my back, one of the few
places that was still safe to touch on me.
“Why
couldn’t it have been just a minor demon? Why does it have to be this one? Are
they insane? How am I supposed to fight this? I’m not enough.”
“You
will not fight alone," Kennan swore. The conversation I’d overheard
between him and Conall played back in my head. I wasn’t sure what was about to
happen, but I knew something bigger than I ever imagined was coming. I also
knew I needed all of the help I could get.
Chapter
Thirteen
Centering
myself, I tried to think. I’d had a plan, I just couldn’t seem to remember what
it was. With the echoes of hatred ricocheting through my mind I could hardly
think. I needed help. That was a start.
“I
think that I need to consult the Council members and get their take on this.
Does someone have a phone that I can use?” I looked around the room hoping that
someone had brought one in with them.
“You
may use mine.” Aberto moved forward with a smartphone in his hand.
“Seriously?
You have a phone? Does it even work in the dreaming? Who’s your carrier?” I was
near full-on laughter by the time I was finished spouting off questions. Once
again, my
Hatred shall spread until the world runs red with the blood of the fallen. The
darkness shall fall, and the darkness has a name. That name is Sonneillon,
fourth in line for the throne of hell itself.
Weep
not for the brothers lost, weep not for the sisters gone, weep for the souls
that are left to suffer under the demon’s wrath, for none shall survive.
The
visions began anew. Neighbor fought neighbor, lover against lover, peace was no
more than a memory. Hate saturated the world as every fear was brought forth
and manifested tenfold. In that fear there was anger and resentment that could
not be pushed down. Emotions ran rampant and all good fled from the world.
I
gazed out upon Chicago, a city I’d seen a million times. The roads were covered
in bodies of those left for dead. Smoke rose from the skyscrapers that were set
ablaze. The city I loved so much was nothing more than a raging war zone. Only,
there was no invading country, no true enemy. The truth came rushing in. If I
didn’t stop this darkness, the world would be no more. Everything I loved,
everything I held dear, would be wiped away.
A
man ran past me, pure terror etched upon his face. He screamed as a knife flew
into his back from somewhere behind me. I turned to see another form moving
forward. The man, or he’d once been a man, moved towards his injured prey. A
look of delight filled his eyes as he walked more closely towards his prize. He
turned his head towards me, sniffing the air as if he could tell I were there.
His
eyes locked upon my position and I froze, unable to think. Where his eyes had once
been there were now gaping chasms. Black veins moved outward from the sockets
moving over his face to form a dark mask. His mouth dripped with black fluid
and his words came out a hiss.
“Seer,
you aren’t strong enough," He slurred before turning toward the man
before him. He jumped upon the soon to be corpse and ripped into him over and
over again with the knife, giggling maniacally as he worked. The laughter
turned my stomach and I sought my way back to the present. This couldn’t
happen. This had to end.
I
was once more curled into the fetal position on the floor. My stomach lurched
and I ran towards the closest trashcan, emptying the contents of my stomach.
The smell of the burning city still caked my nostrils as the sound of deranged
laughter rang in my ears.
“This
is the end of the world, isn’t it?” I breathed out.
“What
did you see?” Kennan moved towards me with a handkerchief.
“I
saw what will happen if we can’t stop this darkness from coming.” I
looked up from the trashcan with tear filled eyes. “We have to stop
it," I pleaded.
“We
will, Izzy, we will.” Kennan carefully rubbed my back, one of the few
places that was still safe to touch on me.
“Why
couldn’t it have been just a minor demon? Why does it have to be this one? Are
they insane? How am I supposed to fight this? I’m not enough.”
“You
will not fight alone," Kennan swore. The conversation I’d overheard
between him and Conall played back in my head. I wasn’t sure what was about to
happen, but I knew something bigger than I ever imagined was coming. I also
knew I needed all of the help I could get.
Chapter
Thirteen
Centering
myself, I tried to think. I’d had a plan, I just couldn’t seem to remember what
it was. With the echoes of hatred ricocheting through my mind I could hardly
think. I needed help. That was a start.
“I
think that I need to consult the Council members and get their take on this.
Does someone have a phone that I can use?” I looked around the room hoping that
someone had brought one in with them.
“You
may use mine.” Aberto moved forward with a smartphone in his hand.
“Seriously?
You have a phone? Does it even work in the dreaming? Who’s your carrier?” I was
near full-on laughter by the time I was finished spouting off questions. Once
again, my
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