Department of Spiritual Defense: Part Thirteen

Bonneville Salt Flats:

The truck pulled off of the narrow road and into one of the driveway-like areas there, the tires rolling over the glistening surface of the earth slowly. He could feel something, like a vibration in the air, guiding the direction of his vehicle. His foot slammed on the brake with an abruptness that surprised even him. He could feel the thing inside him trying to resume its control over him, and he resisted. Eventually however, the demon won. Unlike before, however, he could see and feel everything as it worked his body like a puppet.

It was a strange sensation, his tendons and muscles operating without his input. He watched as his body moved to the bed of the truck and extracting the bag of tools. One of these was a military style shovel it had acquired from somewhere along the way. Next, it moved his body around to the front of the vehicle, pacing off from the bumper, then started to dig. His shoulders began to burn and ache as the demon worked, until finally the end of the tool struck something hard. The box it pulled up was about the size of a briefcase.

It placed that in the bed of the truck and then began to fill in the hole again, packing down the layers of salt once in a while. Aaron felt himself slipping away again, too weak to maintain his focus on remaining present. Soon enough he was back in the mental abyss. His body moved on without his awareness of it, barring the vague sensation of movement. The demon, meanwhile, felt triumphant, if not worn a little bit thin. It drove away from the wasteland, and back toward the Nevada border, once again feeling something calling to it.

It was like a tug at an invisible leash. He drove back toward the highway, stopping at a small gift shop and gas station to fill the fuel tank. The demon had no concept of money, or the fact he was draining what little savings his host had accumulated, and even if he had, he wouldn't have cared. The only thing that mattered to it was the object it had retrieved. He could feel that too too, like a second pulse in the back of his head. He smiled, depressing the accelerator toward the floor once again. The truck roared and lurched forward.

Now that he had what he had been waiting more than a century to possess, he felt another rush of pure excitement that forced a chill along the human's spine. In the Abyss, even Aaron felt it. He tried to re-assume control of his body, or at least his sense of sight. If he could manage that, then maybe he could build on it and start accessing more of his bodily functions. He tried to do just that but very quickly expended all of his energy, fading into a state of almost non-existence. The demon enjoyed that.

The man's mind went quiet at that point, which allowed him to reduce the amount of energy he had to expend to control the meat and bones he was inhabiting. He began to relax just a little, passing the line of trucks that had appeared in front of him before shifting back into the right lane, decreasing his speed just a little. It was going to be a long drive, and drawing attention to himself was the last thing he needed to be doing. The pulse in the back of his mind strengthened, almost as if the thing in the case was trying to urge him forward.

He forgot how willful the thing in the case could be. It took almost as much energy to fight it as he expended to fight against the human's mind. It wanted him to let it out, and his fingers and palms practically itching to give in. He let out a low growl and pressed the gas pedal downward again. He did want to hold it again. He also knew that once he did, there would be no stopping the aftermath, especially if Lucifer was free as he suspected. Those were the changes that the human had picked up on. The darkness had been unchained.

It was a whole new world, and the demon was ready.

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In The Chapel:

Edward's mind was still reeling after being shown the device that the priests had been using. They had showed him things that he couldn't even describe. Places beyond the scope of human imagination both beautiful and terrible. They had also revealed major events from history as well as things yet to come. The machine they had used was a marvel in itself that defied his descriptive abilities. He sat on one of the pews and let out a pair of long, full breaths. He finally met his friend's eyes after several long minutes.

“What you saw is not set in stone.” the priest told him, his tone low and comforting.

“Have you ever thought we might have acted too late?” the Federal employee asked.

“Of course, but I have been assured that is not the case.” the priest countered.

This time he didn't rebuff the words, or ask questions. He had decided that he didn't want anymore answers, at least not for the time being. He stood up and sighed.

“I need to go. We have to start planning. I should also check in with the higher ups.” he said.

No one objected, so he started toward the door.

“Good luck.” one of the other men said just a moment before he stepped through the door.

He wanted to turn around and make a smart remark, but he didn't. Mainly because he was too tired. He was overloaded and burned out. If they managed to pull the world down from the edge of the cliff, Edward was going to take a long vacation. The nub of his leg throbbed beneath the prosthetic and he reached for the bottle of over the counter medicine he took to deal with the pain. He started the engine and started back toward the city. He didn't go to the headquarters initially, instead following the streets downtown to the capitol building.

He walked into the downstairs entrance into the first sub-level, and rode an elevator down a little further. The light of the office shone through the frosted window, and he strode forward, knocking quietly.

“I'm still here, Tommy.” the low, smoke-weathered voice came through the barrier as if it weren't there.

“It's Edward, sir.” he called back.

“Come in, come in.” came the reply.

The man sitting behind the desk was large, his wide, barrel chest seeming to heave as he breathed through the cigar clamped between his thick, chapped lips. His bloodshot blue eyes bored into Edward.

“I assume you're not here to tell me that your mission was a success.” he half-growled at the man with the cane.

“Unfortunately, sir, no, I'm not.” he answered honestly.

“So, why are you here then?” came the next reply.

“To ask for more resources and the ability to recruit another member of the team.” Edward did his best not to make it sound like groveling.

Thankfully, the other man gave a simple, curt nod instead of chewing him out. The agent didn't give him a chance to change his mind, closing the door behind himself.

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Oatman Arizona:

Kenny had never amounted to much. He had a talent for close up magic and showmanship but not much else. He had gotten into theater while in middle school, and fallen in love with acting. He didn't have the grades or the money to pursue that dream after graduation, however, and that had led him to doing spot gigs. That was how he found out about Oatman, a ghost town were the residents also performed shows in the warmer months to draw in tourists. He showed up as a guest the first time and had some fun interactions with a few of the 'deputies'.

The next time he came back, he had even more fun back and forth banter and even showed up when a few of the men ended their shifts, buying them a couple of drinks. They had started talking, and he eventually had inquired about how to get hired on. One of the men, an “outlaw” named Tom told him to go to the Chamber of Commerce the next day, and so he had. There he met the man who portrayed the 'Sheriff', but in reality was the mayor and also in charge of hiring the other actors.

“In a situation like this, a lot of us wear different hats. In fact, Tommy is the city treasurer.” he had mused during that meeting.

“I can understand. I'd be open to taking on more responsibility if things work out.” Kenny told him, both an assurance and an offer.

He left town without hearing anything back, but was optimistic every time the phone rang. He didn't allow disappointment to bring him down when it wasn't however. It was coming up on the three week anniversary of that meeting when the phone rang for the reason he wanted it to. He had quit his job at the convenience store and packed what few important belongings he had, pawning everything else. Since then, he had lived in a small house on the outskirts of town. Initially as roommate, but over time he had claimed ownership of it as people moved on.

The first few years had been amazing, but over time, interest in the town seemed to wane. Crowds were dwindling at an alarming rate. He refused to bail on the few friends he still had there. It was true that the older men had all either retired, otherwise moved on, or had passed away, but he knew most of the newcomers as well, and had come to like them. He had no clue of his true parentage, or the power that flowed though his blood. He also didn't know that because of his lineage he had also been on the radar of the Department of Spiritual Defense.

The man in the suit walked into the saloon while Kenny was on break, drinking a tall glass of unsweetened iced tea and approached him without any real preamble, sitting at the table opposite him.

“May I help you?” the actor asked, using his in character voice out of habit.

“Actually yes, but I would like to speak with you in private if I could.” the agent said, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.

Kenny took another look at the man and his shoulders slumped. It wasn't just someone looking to invest in the town as he had initially hoped. He gave a slight shrug.

“I suppose that can be arranged if you want to meet me here at about six.” he replied in his natural voice, an octave deeper and less lilting.

“Will do. Enjoy rest of your day.” the man said, standing and walking back out into the street.

He tried to put the strange encounter out f his mind and return to work. Occasionally he would glimpse the man in the crowd, seemingly watching him.

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Magnolia Arkansas:

Sierra knew something was off, there was a strange energy that rode the air as she stepped out of the small apartment. She stepped out onto the path that would lead he out onto the street, taking a long draw from the vaporizer in her hand as soon as she was off of the property, walking along the street, staying off to one side as she made her way toward the gas station a few blocks away. Her hair was standing on end, refusing to lay down even as the muggy evening air formed perspiration on her skin. She crossed the parking lot of a small tobacco store.

She stopped just before crossing the street, feeling as if she were being watched. Her head and body turned back toward the furniture and smoke shop's parking lot, but she didn't see anyone else around. The feeling didn't leave her as she went about her business, buying a few things and making her way back toward her home, once again puffing on the nicotine device she had kept in her pocket. A car turned onto the street behind her, and the hair on the back of her neck seemed to practically vibrate, becoming mildly irritating.

Her flesh began to crawl and she picked up her pace, essentially jogging by the time she reached the complex, closing her door behind her and locking it before leaning her back against it. She tried to convince herself it was just paranoia but the rapping at the barrier that seemed to stab through her with each beat. She turned and glanced through the peephole to see a pair of men standing on the front step.

“What do you want?” she called, voice muffled by the wood between her and the unwelcome visitors.

“Miss Reyes. We need to speak with you. Please open the door?” one of them said, voice slick and smooth, the same tone a used car salesman might employ.

She stepped away from the door. There was something else there with them. Something strong. A woman appeared on the doorstep, seemingly from nowhere. Unlike the other two, she could see a sort of light surrounding Adeline.

“Please, Sierra. Open the door?” she spoke softly, but the words seemed crystal clear, as if spoken into her ear from inches away.

All of the creepy feelings seemed to flow away, retreating as the woman's warmth pressed through the door. She stepped away and allowed the trio inside, though she did hesitate when she saw the two men.

“How do you know my name?” she asked, and the angel smiled as she closed the door behind her.

“I know many things. Such as that you can see my light.” the woman replied, voice still soft and soothing.

“What do you want from me?” Sierra asked, taking a step backward, even though she felt herself wanting to do the opposite.

“We need your help. Things are changing, and I'm certain you can feel it. The balance is off.” Adeline said, not trying to close the gap between them, able to feel how overwhelmed the young woman was with the situation.

“My help?” she asked uncertainly.

Adeline didn't respond, only smiled and concentrated on radiating her calming warmth outward, trying to soothe the woman's nerves. After a few impossibly long heart beats, it seemed to work. The woman's shoulders slackened and some of the stiffness left her spine.

“For now we just want to talk. Is that okay?” the divine being requested.

“That sounds fine.” Sierra agreed.

It didn't take that long for the angel to convince her to join the cause.