Temples

forgotten…

dilapidated…

unwanted…

unneeded…

i was once used…

to shelter a people…

wherein they went about their business…

from which they built their cities…

and expanded their civilizations away from me…

they have gone their way…

having fallen…

what lives i once housed…

what minds once beheld me…

are lost now in time…

yet i remain…

a shelter to phantoms and memories…

evocative…

provocative…

dark…

haunting…

more alive then i was to them…

these damp walls…

my earthly sent…

my crawling darkness…

my cold silence…

wherein your thoughts and fears echos…

here, in me is your atonement…

atonement with Living Darkness…

let then burn, your myrrh and incense of mars…

and take your place among the shadows.

-Chloe 352

120 yf; 3 days after the Ides of April

352

Erosion

This life, as long as I could share it all with you, rain or shine.

The beginning, in between, until the end of time.

Yet all that shines turns to rust;

All that stands in time turns to dust.

Still in love with everything about you,

Feeling the wreckage from everything you do.

I’m still here through another empty day;

Hoping this burden will somehow drift away.

The son of rejection held to the light;

In this life feeling dead inside.

Only now, you’re dead like me;

And from my cold fingers you long to be free.

My father left me with a void in my soul,

You leave me with words and a stare so cold.

The converging emptiness I try to take;

All alone I seem to break…

Closedown

In a dream that I had last night;

You turned around and ran to me.

I woke up and I’m alone,

As I have been for months.

I look out my window;

But you aren’t there.

I squint even in the moonlight,

and your silhouette never appears…

I can only dream, can’t I?

You’re still tattered on my sleeve;

My heart has room for no one else…

Amerikanz

“Death is nothing. But to live defeated and inglorious is dying every day.” — Napoleon Bonaparte  

 

   0  

Fish.  

“Fish…fish…fish…fish!” 

 The burly corrections officer led Bobby Li down the “Walk of Fame” of the ADX Florence Maximum Security Facility in Florence, Colorado. It was 8:40 pm, twenty minutes to lights out. Cons were lined up at the cell doors shouting down to the newest con. Bobby looked ahead stoically. He was nervous and his knees felt as if they were going to buckle.    

Russell had advised him that there was a small Jung Dragons population who, since they were incarcerated, missed the memo about the merger with the Guangdong Tigers into the 352 Sinister Shadows.    

“Open cell 74!” shouted the c.o. The cell door opened. Bobby glanced at the bald twenty something white male with the swastikas tattooed on both sides of his head sitting on the bottom half of the bunk directly across from the cell door.    

The c.o. uncuffed Bobby. “Don’t turn around. The c.o. stepped out without turning his back to Bobby and his bunkmate.    

“Close C74!” The cell door automatically shut. “Have fun girls. Don’t stay up too late doing your hair.”    

The skinhead smiled at Bobby. “Wrong apartment. I didn’t order any Chinese food.”    

“I got your Chinese food.” Bobby retorted as he climbed on the top bunk.    

“We’re a tight-knit family here. You’re going to be one of the brothers.” the skinhead laughed.    

Bobby thought of the word “Family” and thought back to Russell, Eve and even the new guy Ray. He wished he was back in Russell’s pool hall drinking beer and getting smart with Johnny and Eddie.    

Eve had promised to make sure that his commissary money kept flowing and would use any connections that she had to make his stay as comfortable as possible.  The debriefing that Russell had given broke down Florence’s population. Aryan Brotherhood, Tres Puntos, Str8 Killaz, Jung Dragons. White, Mexican, black and Chinese cliques.

He thought that he could try to join the Dragons, but he was a Guangdong Tiger on the outside until recently, a Sinister Shadow. The philosophies did not mix. He would try in covert fashion. A Dreccian Adept always adapts and overcomes in any labyrinth.

1

Orientation.

Warden Michael Waldvogel was known as a fair but firm man unlike the man he succeeded, Melvin Roberts, who was known to extract sexual favors from the female cons and have hidden cameras set up in their cells.

Waldvogel believed in the straight and narrow and keeping his nose clean. He even went so far as to have a female c.o. present when he addressed any female con in his office.

He looked over Bobby as he stood in front of him.

“So, armed robbery, burglary, extortion, assault. Looks like you run with a bad crowd there, Mr. Li.”

Bobby looked down on the floor. The c.o. standing behind him harshly nudged him.

“It’s all right, Tommy. Mr. Li, I believe that if you simply follow the simple rules here and stay out of trouble, you’ll do fine. Circumstances considering. I don’t have a lot to say about the matter. Any questions?”

“No, warden.”

“Okay. That’s that.”

The c.o. lead Bobby to the mess hall in time for breakfast. Bobby grabbed his food and chose a table where the cliques didn’t sit together. A table of mixed races. The loners.

A young Chinese con approached him and smiled as he stood over him. Bobby didn’t trust the smile.

“You gunna eat this?” the con said as he put his bare hand all over Bobby’s food. Nearby, a table full of Asian cons snickered.

“Not anymore.” Bobby said. He reached in front of him and elbowed the con in the groin. Bobby then got up and dumped the tray of food on the con as he bent over in pain. Bobby then kicked the con in the face, sending him sprawling on the floor.

C.o.’s reacted quickly to the commotion and grabbed Bobby.

“Goddamn first day and already in the hole, fish.” one of the c.o.’s said as they led Bobby away.

2

Pop.

A week later out of the hole, Bobby walked into the exercise yard. Like the mess hall, the yard was racially divided. The Str8 Killaz were currently using the weights as the Aryans stood by not to far away, waiting their turn. Tres Puntos stood by the basketball court smoking cigarettes watching a pick-up game. The Dragons stood at the other side of the court doing the same. They spotted Bobby and started walking towards him.

“Stand your ground, Li.” he said to himself. “Stand your motherfuckin’ ground.”

The lead Dragon discarded his cigarette and went nose to nose with Bobby as the other Dragons surrounded them. The pick-up game stopped and everyone turned around with interest.

The c.o.’s standing by continued their conversation, but kept their eyes on the ensuing confrontation.

Bobby didn’t drop his stare. “The fuck do you want?”

“What the fuck do I want?” the Dragon laughed. “A punk ass Guangdong Tiger shows up in my house and asks me what the fuck I want?”

“Ain’t no more Tigers or Dragons. Just the Shadows.”

“Shadows? When I get the fuck out of here, the Dragons are gunna take over Chinatown. You’re gunna be lucky to be in here.”

“Listen. There’s enough resources in Chinatown to make us all comfortable. I didn’t mean to show up your Brother in the mess hall, but I was sitting there minding my own business, hungry and he messed up my breakfast. As far as Chinatown, even in lockdown, we can be comfortable if we pool our resources.”

“I’m listening.”

“All the cliques here are all focused on segregating themselves. Is anybody really gunna take over that way? Race is an abstract ideal of the old Aeon. It’s a meaningless structure built to hold everyone down.”

“I heard the Shadows were devilworshipers. You talk weird. I’m not into this occult shit.”

Bobby and the con were still nose to nose. The basketball game continued as well as everyone else in the yard going about their business.

“It’s not all about the occult. Let’s talk.” Bobby said.

The con made a gesture and the rest of his clique went back to the basketball court.

“My name’s Willie Ren.”

“Ah, duty!” Booby beamed.

Willie smiled. “Yes. You?”

“Bobby Li.”

3

Dealings.

It didn’t take long for Bobby and Willie to form a conglomerate. They pooled their resources, Willie with the manpower and Bobby with the finances as promised by Eve and Russell.

Willie was won over by talks with Bobby about “Sinister Numinousity” and personal honour. Bobby even had talks with Otto, his skinhead cellmate, about Reichsfolk Culture. 

Bobby, Willie and Otto were, in fact, the sole traffickers of cigarettes, marijuana and even small amounts of liquor within the facility. They even had certain c.o.’s on their payroll.

After a period of six months, the four main gangs slowly dissolved and splintered into a business enclave that Bobby was overseeing. He never declared himself to be an official leader, but his business savvy had forged strange alliances. Money talked and bullshit walked.

To Bobby, this was the American dream materializing before his eyes, even in lockdown. He referred to his enclave and other associates as “Amerikanz.”

As usual, there was always those who refused to go with the ebb and flow. The Str8 Killaz and Tres Puntos were still “radical” in their beliefs and were considered even more racist than the Aryan Brotherhood. The leaders, Diamond (Str8 Killaz) and Puppet (Tres Puntos) held on to the belief that the blacks and Mexicans should only be with their own kind.

Very few from those two remaining cliques defected and joined the Amerikanz.

4

Belly.

“Bobby, I’ve got an idea.” Otto said. He suddenly sat up in his bunk. Out of appreciation and respect, Otto bestowed the coveted bottom bunk to Bobby.

“I’m listening.” Bobby said. He was almost dozing off, having a picture in his mind of grassy hills and a clearing for Temple purposes.

“Let’s run hookers. We’ll make a fortune!”

Bobby smiled. “I don’t think anyone really wants to pay for transvestites and fags when they could take them themselves.”

“No dude. The female cons on the other side. There’s an underground passage that I saw when I used to have that laundry gig. I know that it connects to the female side. We could use for the exchanges! It’ll be the ‘Tunnel of Love!’ You know a lot of the c.o.’s, we can make this happen!”

“Holy shit! That’s a fuckin’ idea. Good job, man.”

“Dude, I got my kid the braces he needed yesterday.”

“Congratulations. It cost like five grand, you said?”

“Six, with taxes.”

“We need to do something about the Str8 Killaz, though. Diamond don’t wanna play ball. If he don’t wanna play, I know that they’ll stand in our way soon enough.”

“I got a plan.” Otto smiled.

5

Framework.

Jose Castellon easily defected from Tres Puntos to the Amerikanz because of one thing: Money. The fix was in.

Jose walked into the nightclub that Diamond still owned in Memphis, Tennessee. He opened his trench coat as he walked in and spied the full bar and dance floor. Surprisingly, the music was not overpowering nor overly loud.

He yelled out into the crowded club.

“Hey niggers! Tres Puntos for life! Tres Puntos!”

He reached into his coat and tossed grenades towards the crowd and ran out the front door.

The two Mexicans that Jose hired then pushed a dumpster to block the door.

Ronnie Williams walked into Puppet’s parents’ convenience store in El Paso, Texas. Both of Puppet’s parents were working behind the counter while a line of about ten people were waiting to purchase lottery tickets and beer.

As soon as Ronnie walked in, he took out the AK-47 and began to fire indiscriminately into the store.

“Str8 Killaz, you fuckin’ beaners! Str8 Killaz!”

There were survivors that would spread the word. Not many, though. 

6

Repercussion.

Diamond and Puppet spotted each other during yard time. They ran towards each other as their respective entourages followed suit.

All began to brandish improvised weapons created covertly, a meaningful accomplishment in a maximum security pen.

Willie and Otto stood up from their outdoor chess game and walked the other way. The now biggest clique in the facility, the Amerikanz all followed.

Chaos which was vital to growth ensued between the two gangs. Rivals were stabbing and clubbing one another to death. Within the first few seconds of the violence that erupted, Puppet and Diamond were already dead. 

Officers swooped in on the riot in full gear and dispersed the crowd with tear gas and rubber rounds.

About a hundred yards away, Otto and a few other Amerikanz were suppressing their laughter. 

7

Paths.

Otto hugged Willie and Bobby. His duffle bag lay on his bunk.

“I wish that I had a camera. A skin hugging two Chinese guys.” Otto laughed.

“Remember to look up my boy Russ at his pool hall. He’ll look out for you. You’re Family, now. If anybody asks, you’re a fuckin’ Amerikan and there won’t be any questions anymore. Got it?”

“Got it. See you on the outside, Bobby.”

“Yeah. I’ll meet your grandkids.” Bobby said somberly. “Fuck it. Freedom’s overrated. With your help, I smoke, I get high and I even get laid by real women. The fuck I need to be out there for.”

Otto laughed and walked out. The c.o. on the take who waited outside the cell smiled at Otto and the two made their way to the Walk of Fame.

“You’re the king now, Bobby. In less than a fuckin’ year, you came in here and became king. You son of a bitch.” Willie smiled. “What are you going to do now?”

Bobby laughed. “Nothing. Nothing at all.

 

 

Insurrection

Once you sent promises of destruction

To the ones who refused to kneel.

We did not fear the pledges of doom;

For we hold things beyond your reach.

Our minds as black as our masters’ hearts;

The webs we’re weaved are complete.

Implore your darken sky;

Broken down before a false divinity.

The mounds of piling corpses;

Cast a shadow on your paradise.

As blood trickles away in the sand,

Oblivion and apathy shall be your solace…

 

Wolves

0

Ray Wong opened the door to his modest one-bedroom apartment. He looked through the cupboards and the refrigerator and sighed. He went into the sparsely decorated living room and plopped down on a leather loveseat. He picked up the remote control from the small wooden coffee table in front of him, turned on the television and immediately turned it off again. He put his feet on the table, looked up to the ceiling and sighed. He felt bored and unfulfilled. He then stepped back out of his apartment and into the cold, crisp autumn air.

Thirty minutes later, Ray was playing pool in the rear of a dive bar against a young Asian man in his 20’s, about Ray’s age. They bet almost twenty on a game of 8-ball. Ray saw the man’s frustration as he missed the 8-ball. Ray made a tough bank shot to seal the win.

Ray held out his hand. “Okay man, you owe me $20.”

The man drank picked up his beer and nodded his head while drinking.

“Come on man, twenty bucks. That’s what we bet and I beat you.”

“Bullshit. Let’s play again.” the man said.

Listening intently was the man’s friend Russell, standing almost 15 feet away. He was with a large group of mostly young men and a few scantily dressed young women, late teens to early twenties. One man from the group took a step towards Ray and his friend, but the man watching held out his hand as if to stop him. The approaching man stopped dead in his tracks.

Ray then said, “I’m not fucking around. Give me my money.”

The man then grabbed a pool cue and attempted to swing at Ray. The man was quick and almost cat-like, but Ray was faster. He ducked and then lunged forward to punch the man in the midsection. The man bent over in pain and then Ray delivered an ax-kick to the back of his head. Another man from the group immediately charged at Ray and was greeted with a side kick to the jaw. More men from the group attempted to converge on Ray. Russell then held up his hand, “Wait.” The group stopped.

Russell approached Ray and they surveyed each other.

“You’re good. You’re not here with any friends?” Russell asked.

“I don’t need any friends.” Ray shot back defiantly.

Russell reached in his front jeans pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds. “Everybody needs friends.” he said as he offered Ray a cigarette.

1

Captain Fulton sat pensively at his desk. Sitting in the chair in front of his desk was Deputy Inspector Thomas Leonard of the 13th Precinct. “Are you sure that we’re the right ones you need? This is more like the Detective Squad’s jurisdiction.”

Leonard rubbed his forehead. “Adam, how long have we known each other?”

Fulton smiled. “Are you trying to give me an ultimatum, Inspector?”

“No. I just need a big favor. This kid they took is like family. Me and his father have been friends for longer than the cops in your house have been alive. Just do me this favor Adam. If I give it to somebody that I don’t know, they’ll do a half-assed job.”

Fulton thought for a minute. “I’ll do the best that I can and so will my guys. You know I will. Just give me the file.”

“I owe you big time for this Adam.” Leonard dropped the manila envelope on Fulton’s desk. Fulton walked Leonard to the front of headquarters and gave his friend a brotherly embrace.

“Please find these people, Adam.” Leonard turned and opened the door of the navy blue unmarked Chevy Impala.

Fulton waved and smiled at his long time friend. A plainclothes cop walked out of the building and lit a cigarette. Fulton turned to face him.

“Hey Sal, give me one of those will you?”

2

Russell and Ray walked through the crowded downtown district. They walked into the laudromat and towards the counter. The young woman behind the counter gestured for them to go into the back room. Once outside the door, Russell knocked and the voice behind the door told them to come in. An elderly Asian man seated behind a desk facing the door greeted them with an apprehensive look and then reached into the desk drawer and presented a manila envelope, never taking his eyes off of Russell.

“Go ahead. Take it.” Russell instructed Ray while also fixing his gaze at the old man. Ray took the envelope.

“Let’s go.” Russell said.

“What was all that about?” asked Ray.

“In time my friend. I’ll take that package from you later. In time. Are you hungry?”

“I could go for something.” said Ray

They walked into a guadily decorated Chinese restaurant. The hostess, a beautiful twenty-something smiled at them from behind her podium and shouted abrupt instructions in Chinese. The waiter, a middle aged man, immediately approached Russell and Ray and showed them to a table. Russell then ordered in Chinese. The waiter wrote on a notepad as fast as Russell spoke and almost ran to the kitchen.

“Do you speak any particular dialect?” Russell asked Ray.

“No. I was born here and my parents never took the time to teach me. They were too busy working.”

“That’s a shame. You should really be closer to your roots.”

“Judging from the looks of it, you look like the mayor of Chinatown.”

“No, just a regular working stiff.”

At that moment the waiter brought them two bottles of beer and several appetizers. He never made eye contact with Russell nor Ray.

3

Captain Fulton eyed Ray from behind his desk and smiled.

“Unbelieveable. The infamous Russell Lee falls right into the hands of  my best guy, without him even trying.”

Ray smiled. “I’m your best guy, Cap?”

Cpt. Fulton smiled back. “You are now. You realize what you have?”

“Known gang leader, extortionist, burglar, pimp and not-so-garden variety devil-worshiper.  The last part is the only thing that really bothers me.”

“Why is that, Wong?”

“Devil-worshipers are usually those rebellious kids in high school who spray-paint churches and tombstones. Lee is way too sophisticated for that.”

“During his last stint in Rikers Island, it was reported that he spoke in front of Bloods, Crips, Aryan Bros. and the Muslims. He even went so far as to ‘annex’ splinter groups from the aforementioned gangs and formed a so-called ‘nexion’.  It was reported that he never spoke of Satan, but of family, honor and numinousity.”

“Yeah, he spoke about family a lot with me. Mostly traditional stuff that I’ve heard before. He’s smart though. He doesn’t do anything illegal in front of me, sir.”

“We didn’t expect him to make this easy.  My point is that I really need you on this one. There’s a kid named Mark Porter that’s very important to a friend of mine. This cult’s got him brainwashed. Your priority is to get him out. If you can bust Lee foe anything, then by all means. But I need that kid back.”

Ray frowned as he comtemplated what Fulton had just told him. Risk himself going deep cover for a personal favor?

“I know that this is a little unusual, Ray.” said Cpt. Fulton. “And I’ll justify this operation at all costs. I need this, Ray.”

“Yes sir. I’ll take care of it.” Ray said reluctantly.

Captain Fulton smiled. “I know you will Ray. I know you will.” 

Ray walked out of Cpt. Fulton’s office slowly and into his car. He thought of Russell’s thoughts on family. The family that made money for the sake of supporting each other and their ‘ceux sang.’ In Russell’s eyes, everyone outside the family was either profane, a “10 Percenter” or both. Ray even knew who Mark was. He was a newbie who had just joined, but was already moving onto Adeptship within the Family rather quickly. Ray would be next, Russell said.

“Financial independence.” Ray remembered Russell saying to him.

4

Mark sat nervously in the dimly lit living room of the large house that Russell drove him to. Russell said that Mark is a Disciple now after proving his loyalty through the ordeals and participating in “Fedding”/ taking care of business through the  education of the ignorant, profane rivals. 

Then Mark smelled a mixture of perfumes in the air. Then Mark heard the sound of heeled shoes on the hardwood floor approaching and an attactive Asian woman in her 20’s walked into the living room and sat on the chair opposite from Mark. She was dressed in only a silk robe and high heeled stiletto shoes. She smiled at Mark. Mark smiled sheepishly and shyly looked down.

 More heel sounds and a beautiful blond-haired green eyed 20-something woman walked into the room. She was dressed in an S&M leather outfit complete with a whip which she masterfully snapped above Mark’s head as she walked in. She took a place next to the first woman and looked at Mark. She flicked her tongue and Mark gulped.

Russell walked in and smiled at Mark.

“Stand up, Brother.”

Mark stood and Russell gave him a bearhug, almost taking away his breath. Yet, there was a genuine feeling behind Russell’s hug.

“I’m going to take you to meet Eve later.” Russell shoved a cold bottled beer in Mark’s hand. “Right now, I’m throwing you a little party, Brother. Choose one of these fine Sisters.”

Mark looked at the women. He then opened the beer and took a long drink, almost finishing it. He smiled at Russell with adoration.

“Wow, dude.” Mark whispered. “I’m…wow.”

Russell laughed. “Go ahead Brother. We’re all Family. Go have your party.”

Mark felt a lump in his throat. He walked towards the two women and put an arm around each of their shoulders. Russell laughed as they led Mark upstairs.

5  

The room was filled with the smell of cigar and cigarette smoke. Almost filling the room was a large round oak table. Around the table sat Asian and Italian men in expensive suits drinking expensive liquor. The lone woman, Asian, in her mid-thirties, sat at the head of the table. She had a lovely alabaster complexion yet her eyes rendered a cunning, ruthless demeanor. She surveyed the laughing men and held up her hand. They obediently stopped talking and looked toward the woman with respect.

“I want to thank you gentlemen for being here tonight. I am also proud to announce record profits for this quarter. ”

“Fuckin’ bitch…” growled an Asian man seated two people from her on her right.

All of the men turned their attention to the source of the outburst with shock on their faces.

“Boss Chang.” Eve addressed the disgruntled gangster. “I have an open door policy as I have stated before. I prefer for anyone who has an issue to discuss it with me in a private manner so that we may come to a resolution. Now Boss, since you have apparently chosen to air your grievance in a public forum, what seems to be the problem?”

Boss Chang didn’t look up. He guzzled his glass of scotch.

“I was the boss of the largest conglomerate back in Hong Kong. Now I am reduced to this.” he growled.

“You are still a Boss. This is a merger of resources, human and otherwise which proved to be more profitable.” Eve smiled gently at Boss Chang.

“I don’t want to work for a fuckin’ bitch!” Chang exploded and threw his glass against the opposite wall.

Eve smiled and stealthily jumped on the table. She bent over, took off her stiletto shoe and plunged it into the right eye of Boss Chang seemingly in one motion. He fell back on the floor. Eve pulled a .22 caliber pistol from her garter belt and shot Chang in the head. Eve stood on the table with her pistol pointed in the air.

“I don’t have a problem with anyone taking an issue with my management ability. But don’t ever doubt me because I’m a woman. Your profane minds still believe that this is a man’s world but you forget that it was a woman who birthed civilization. Anyone have a problem with anything that I can’t help?”

Eve’s bodyguard/Temple Guardian already had his .45 caliber trained on the other Bosses’ muscle while another had an uzi trained on the seated Bosses.

“Good. Now we can discuss business.” she said as she leapt from the table to retrieve her shoe from Boss Chang.

6

Cpt. Fulton grimly looked at Detective Doug Bravo as he handed him the black and white glossy photo of Eve.

“This goes beyond Russell Lee. It looks like this lady here, Eve Aquino is the real leader of this Nexion.”

“Eve of Destruction?!?” Bravo exclaimed. Esoterically, Bravo was the “criminal informant” for Eve, collaring rival drug dealers so that Eve was free to annex new territories as she wished.

“Yeah. I’m thinking of pulling Wang out and possibly calling in a favor from some Feds I know.”

“With all due respect sir, we wouldn’t look good doing that. The Feds ain’t gonna be interested in pulling that Porter kid out. Them college boys would just be interested in taking down the ‘Boss of Bosses.’ I’d just have Wang pull Porter out and not mess with Lee or Eve.”

“Mother Eve.” Fulton said grimly. “Yeah, you’ve got a good point there. I don’t want Wang taking any unnecessary risks.”

Doug pondered his relationship with Eve. Crime Boss and Temple Mistress. The Sinister Feminine Principle Incarnate. It was almost synergy, the way that one needed the other. Doug himself wasn’t a Disciple, but his time would come soon enough especially with the earnings that Eve had made last quarter because of his information.

“Yeah. I’ll leave Ray in there. He reports to me everyday now anyway. First sign of problems and he’s out.”

7

Ray sold almost all of the cold bottled waters at the busy intersection. He had bought cases of water at the discount supplier and put them in a large cooler of ice and sold them for $1 each. Russell told him that the ABC Rite was to set the Disciple along the Sinister Way and to prove that it was entirely possible to be financially independent from the Profane. Ray was to split the proceeds from his ordeal with his two witnesses and their leader, Mark.

Ray thought back on the other recent ordeals that he participated in. He and his witnesses had ‘Blood Opfered’ a crack dealer, someone of Ray’s choosing. They had also burglarized the home of an unemployed slacker who was collecting social security benefits fraudulently. Russell had told him not to feel bad. These were people who lacked true character he explained. 

The past few days had made Ray’s head spin. He remembered what his assignment was but he had never in his life felt that he was alive until now. The excitement, the exhilaration, the vitality of Being.

He knew that Mark was there under his own free will. Mark was a new ‘Disciple,’ respected among his peers even though those peers were Disciples for some time already.

Ray also felt a sense of family with Russell and Mark. He somehow felt “safe” with the matriarch figure Eve. It was as if everything was going to be okay because she said it was.

It was almost like a roller coaster of emotions because he hated himself for what he felt was being hypocritical.

Before Ray had undertaken the Rite, Russell approached him and said, “I know that you’re a cop, man. Even if you arrest me, you’ll never forget us, you’ll want to claim this because we’ve given you a real sense of family. Those cops are just your family during work hours, Brother. Even when you hang out off duty, all you do is talk about work. You’re never free. Consider this as going opposite and beyond. This is your personal quest to evolve my friend. To exult in life and go beyond the boundaries that the Powers That Be put in front of us. To quest and to die questing. No one cares about what you believe in philisophically. You complete what awaits and you’ll have your Family with you for life. We are now Blood. Forever starts today, Brother.”

That night that Ray had completed the ‘Business’ end of the Rite, he laid on his bed and thought of everything. He got up, reached into his pocket and threw his badge in the garbage.

-Nexion 352, Order of Nine Angles-

SK9

File SK9

Chapter 1

California, 14 miles outside Eureka City

“Skully,” Said Agent Molder, “Come here, look at this!”

Rich Molder was squatting with a dumb grin on his face staring at a big footprint.

“Molder, I can’t cross this swampy ground in my heels.” Said Skully.

“Who the hell fights crime in heels anyways.” He said, “It’s big foot, it was here Kayla!”

She rolled her eyes. Special Agent Kayla Skully was an FBI agent in a classy black and white pin-stripe suit, wavy dirty blond hair, and loopy earrings. She had been assigned to her partner Rich Molder a year an a half ago by the FBI Director Ms. Chloe Skinner.

“Molder, there is a cabin of half eaten bodies over there and you’re looking for big foot.” She said, walking back to the isolated wooden cabin.

Rich runs across the muddy dirt to catch up to his partner.

“I think big foot ate them Kayla, for reals.”

“Molder, I think it ate your brain.” She said, “Is that what you’re going to write in your report for Dir. Chloe Skinner?”

They were walked up to the crime scene which was yellow-taped off and surrounded by local sheriffs.

They walked up to the handsome sheriff with the cowboy hat.

“Agent Rich Molder.” Rich introduced himself to the sergeant, with his hand out.

“Sergeant Seti.”  He said, shaking Rich’s hand. Seti passed his right hand to Kayla and took off his hat.

“Seti, ma’am.”

She was impressed with his manners.

“Kayla Skully, thank you.”

“They just found a 5^th body about 60 yards from the cabin in the woods,” The Sergeant said to Molder and Kayla, as he started walking. “Head eaten clean off and blood sucked dry, this one.”

They were following Seti, to the fifth body.

“Oh my god,” Kayla said horrified. “Who do you think is doing this Seti?”

“Some local Satanic cult probably.” He said.

“Number 5’s genitalia missing?” Asked Rich.

“Missing like the cow’s.” Seti said to Molder.

“So what, you guys think devil worshipers are mutilating people now?” Kayla said, half laughing, and half disgusted as she sees body number 5. She covers her nose and mouth.

“Or aliens.” Said Molder to his new friend Seti.

“Zeta Reliculi!” Returned Seti.

“Reptilians.” Added Rich.

Seti pointed at Rich and raised his eyebrow: “David Icke.”

Kayla rolled her eyes and turned around: “Are you guys serious! Big foot and space aliens stealing people’s penises and eating brains? Molder there’s maggots on the body.”

“It’s a dead body Skully?” Rich said not getting it. Seti nods.

“Guys, his soft tissue is missing – his tongue and genetalia – the maggots ate it, not Satanists, big foot, or aliens.” She said annoyed.

“Wow, Skully, you’re starting to sound like Dir. Chloe. Something I should know about?” He said laughing.

“Ooh kinky, Director Chloe; do tell.” Added Seti, buddy slapping Rich.

Both the perverts laugh.

“Sergeant Seti,” she said kneeling beside the body, “Why is there a patch of skin missing from his right arm?”

The body had sleeves of tattoo work done on both arms.

“I failed to notice. Looks like he got a tattoo removed?” Rich said looking at Seti.

Seti nodded: “Standard procedure for motorcycle gangs and some skinhead gangs. When you leave the gang or are kicked out, they often remove your tattoo, skin and all.”

“Looks like he’s missing a patch on his shoulder, give me a hand Seti.” Rich said.

Rich and Seti both turned the body over. It wasn’t just a shoulder. The skin on his whole back was missing. Kayla made a look of disgust as the hundreds of maggots were pouring out of the back.

“Haha! Hot damn,” Exclaimed Seti, “Looks like he had a mural on his back done!”

Chapter 2

5:09 PM

Evening came. Agents Kayla and Rich were inside the cabin with Sergeant Seti collecting finger prints of the victims and going through the cabin for any clues that would shed light on the strange case.

The case itself began as a case of what looked like a homicide-suicide case. It had looked like the elderly victim had stabbed his wife and two thirty something year old sons to death with a home made knife made out of dear antler and an obsidian blade, which Seti had already put into a bag and had set on the coffee table along with a copy of the “The Turner Diaries.”

Kayla had her latex gloves on and was going down what looked like a cellar. She carefully steps down the wooden stairs. As she steps on the ninth stair, she hears a hollow and stops. Lifting up a plank of wood she sees an old book inside a hollow.

“Molder!” She yells out.

Agent Molder, followed by Sergeant Seti comes down to the cellar.

“Pet dog dead too?” Rich said half jokingly.

“No,” She said with a confused look, “Kiss Of The Spider Woman, by Manuel Puig?”

“Kiss Of The Spider Woman?” Said Seti with his thumb and finger on his chin.

“Ninth stair?” Pondered Rich.

Flipping through the book for any clues, she comes to the 19th page. Giving a weird look at the two guys she reads out loud the letters and numbers she sees written on the page: “SK9?”

The three are startled by the sound of the door of the cabin being kicked opened.

“Ah!” One of the officers had screamed, followed by a thud sound. Molder and Seti had already ran into the living room where the scream had come from. Kayla was in heels, so she was climbing up the stares carefully so as not to fall.

“Holy fuck!” Seti’s scream was followed by two gun shots.

By the time Kayla had made it to the living room, Seti and Rich were gone. Near the wall on the opposite side of what used to be the door was the officer. It looked like he was thrown across the room and hit the wall. His skull was cracked open and his jaw was broken. She bent down to check for a pulse: he was dead.

“Agent Skully, are you alright?” Asked a concerned officer, who had come in.

“Yeah. He’s dead.” She said.

She and the officer turn towards the woods as they hear four more gun shots. The officer ran out the doorway towards the woods.

Agent Kayla took off her heels to run after the officer to find Molder, she looks at the coffee table and notices the bag with the home made obsidian knife was missing. She sets the book she found down on the table and runs out into the darkening evening towards the woods barefoot with her gun drawn.

But before she made it far from the door she heard Molder’s voice behind her from the cabin.

“What the fuck!?” Rich said looking confused and turning in circles just outside the doorway. He was walking in and out of the doorway.

“Molder?! I thought you were in the woods?”

“I was!? It was fucking big foot! We shot it Skully! We ran after it into the woods and shot it. I was running behind Seti and his boys chasing it Skully! They all disappeared?!”

“What do you mean disappeared?”

“Disappeared! I don’t know? It was shadowy purple haze. We were inside it running after the thing! Everything went quite. I heard bells softly ringing. And the trees turned into the cabin. It’s a vortex of some sort Kayla!?” He was walking in and out of the doorway, as if to look for the vortex.

Chapter 3

Ms. Chloe’s office, D.C.

The Director was really hot. She had her hair in a sexy bun, and had cute black framed glasses on. Special Agent Rich Molder was sitting pensively in front of her desk as she was flipping through his crazy report.

“Agent Molder, were you on crack when you wrote this? This is the most ludicrous report I have ever read in FBI history or something.”

“Really? What did Agent Skully write?” He asked, shocked.

“Big foot came out a time warp to eat people’s brains and took six police officers with it, and you went through a vortex? Do you seriously expect me to believe that?”

“No, that’s the thing. It happened Ms. Director.”

“I’m taking you two off the case. You two have both lost it. Take a week off. I’m putting others on this case.” Said Director Chloe Skinner.

“Oh come on. It happened, they vanished with big foot!?”

“You’re dismissed Agent Molder.”

They were both off the case. Molder had called Skully the following day to meet him for breakfast at a local Denny’s for the “Grand Slam Thank You Ma’am” special they were having.

“She said I was on crack and that my report was the most ludicrous report in FBI history.” Rich bitched as he was digging into his sunny side up eggs, “What’d you say in your report?” He asked with his mouth full of eggs.

“That it was dark outside, the officers got lost in the woods, and the swamp gas affected you.”

“What the hell Kayla? Why are you off the case?”

“She gave me a week off?!” Said Kayla, as she takes a bite of her pancake.

“How the fuck did you pull that one off?”

“I took one for the team.” She said, giggling.

“Really,” Rich scoots closer to her, “You wanna tell me about it? Does she shave?”

“Eat your breakfast.”

“God I hate you women!” He said.

Kayla took a drink of her coffee. She still had the “SK9” on her mind.

“Listen, I’ll try and see if I can contact Mr. A tonight and get some information about that SK9 thing or any leads.” She said.

“Cool. I’d like to know. I experienced it Kayla. You believe me, right?”

She didn’t say anything.

Chapter 4

Mr. A

Mr. A was a shadowy person. Well dressed, older man. He doesn’t reveal his real name or what agency he works for, if he works for any. But he is a source of secret intelligence.

When Kayla needs to speak with Mr. A she emails him an encrypted letter “A” to a secret or private email thingy. Then he writes back with a meeting location. Mr. A had told her to meet him at a certain bench in a certain park at a certain time. The frustrating thing with Mr. A is that he only responds to questions, but doesn’t elaborate.

At the park feeding the ducks they sit together, Kayla and Mr. A.

“The Turner Diaries was written by a lunatic. A fictional work about a race war. During the 80’s the book turned the National Socialist movement from a theoretical organization into a revolutionary movement. Perhaps the highlight of the NS movement.”

“Kiss of the Spider Woman?” She asked him.

“It’s about a political revolutionary who is jailed with a homosexual man named Molina. Molina tells his cell mate a story of a French woman who falls in love with a noble Aryan officer.” Said Mr. A.

“A revolutionary cult?” Kayla asked confused.

“Perhaps.”

“I found something written on the 19^th page that just said: SK9.”

He nods: “SK9. Sangha Kona Nava. Sanskrit for Order of Nine Angles. SK9 is secretly used as an alternative name by a cell of this secretive order, sometimes known as Three Fifty-Two. This cell is heavily influenced by oriental philosophy and mysticism. Their numbers 352 is an Anglicized numerical rendition of the Sanskrit letters “OM-Ra.”

“OM-Ra?”

“OM Rudra. The equivalent of saying: Hail Satan. Rudra is a name of Shiva, meaning the Terrible, Wild, Feral One. They believe that by performing human sacrifice to Satan with an obsidian knife, that a vortex of some sort is opened from which comes out dark otherworldly beings and a form of energy they call Acausal energy. This acausal energy is said to basically gradually destroy the old order of the world.”

“Oh my god. Molder said he had seen a creature that looked like a big foot, which he chased into a vortex of some sort?” She said, as the pieces slowly fell together.

Chapter 5

Kayla Skully had dressed up and prowled her way to Bamboo 52 on 344 W and 52^nd in New York. She was visiting Rich Molder’s home city, when Molder unexpectedly got a call from a female friend of his and “needed time” alone with her. Kayla thought she’d stop by the sushi bar to pick up someone for the night.

The Bamboo was a classy oriental flavoured spot which attracted the local Asian gay and lesbian crowd. It was karaoke night. Some Japanese guy was trying to singing Sayonara as she walked in. She had been there before with Chloe who introduced her to the place.

Her eyes first wandered to a table of cute, well dress geisha like Japanese girls, but some Asian girl over at the lesbian part of the bar eventually caught Kayla’s interest. Maybe because the girl was staring her down with that piercing-yearning stare. Here eyes fixated on Kayla, even when she drank her frozen ‘rita. Kayla walks up beside the girl and orders a Long Island on the rocks.

“I love you’re top,” Said the Asian girl to Kayla, “Prada?” She extends her right and, “Molina.”

“Molina?” Kayla grabs the girls hand who gives her a soft limp handshake, “The Devil wears Prada.” She added with a smile.

“You’re not with your girlfriend to day?” Molina said, drinking her ‘rita.

“How do you know; she’s not my girlfriend.” Kayla said, intrigued.

“I come here often. I see things.” Molina said, pulling out a pack of Camels, “Cigarette?”

It didn’t take long. Before their cigarette was finished Molina had initiated the make out move. Kayla didn’t finish her Long Island. They had left the Bamboo for Kayla’s hotel room nearby.

They both fell asleep exhausted.

She woke up in the morning to a sharp pain on her side. She noticed Molina had left. In her place was the obsidian knife that was missing from the crime scene. Kayla jumped out of bed naked and grabbed her gun. Noticing that the bitch and made a little cut on her rib cage during the night. After making sure her hotel room was empty, she calls Rich.

“Molder, come over, they were in my hotel room.” She said to Molder on her cell.

“On my way, are you okay?”

“Yeah, bring an envelop, I got something here.”

It took Rich Molder about 4 minutes to get to her room.

As soon as Molder walks in, Kayla points to the obsidian knife on the bed.

“Whose blood is that on the sheets.” Rich asked, concerned.

“Mine… she must have cut me with it last night, or something.” She said, showing him the cut.

“Director Chloe? Or something for reals.” He said with a big smile.

“No; some other girl.”

Molder has a grin on his face, he grabbed Kayla’s shoulders, and sat her on the bed.

“Start from the beginning in graphic detail… I need to know everything… don’t leave anything out.”

“Molder, I’m serious. I could have died last night. They’re in this city following us.”

“That big foot came for that knife the other night and took off running. How did your girlfriend end up with it? Where did you meet her at?”

“The Bambo: 344^th and 52^nd. She said she hangs out their often.”

“Let’s go scope the place; I feel like a morning drink anyways.” He said, putting the knife into an envelop.

As they were driving to Bamboo 52 Molder gets a call on his cell.

“Agent Molder,” He answered, “Any luck?”

Rich makes a sharp you turn towards the airport: “On our way.”

“What’s going on?”

“They found Sergent Seti – in Malta.”

Chloe 352

Chapter 6

On the plane ride to Malta, Skully looked over to Molder.

“I still don’t believe that vortex thing, Rich. There’s got to be a perfectly logical explanation as to why Seti ended up in Malta.”

Molder looked out the window and smiled slightly. He was amused and irritated at Agent Skully’s need for everything to have a logical explanation.

“Do you have any ideas?”

“Not right now. I’m working out something right now.”

“Like some doorway took him there?”

“No. That theory was so totally not feasible, c’mon Rich. Are you going to eat those peanuts?”

“Knock yourself out. Do you want a piece of Nicorette gum too?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got like 3 packs of cigarettes in my carry-on and I can’t even touch them.”

“Yeah, now you know I feel.” Molder thought out loud.

“What?”

“I said ‘Yeah, I know the deal.’” He said abruptly.

Skully felt the sharp bitterness of the nicotine gum in her throat and coughed. “Ugh!” She spit the gum out into her cocktail napkin. “I think that I’ll settle for some peanuts.”

“Yeah, have some penis.”

“Rich, stop fucking around and think about the case.”

“Well, we know that Seti didn’t take Air Force One over to Malta while you were at Bamboo 52. Something is amiss and you still think there’s an explanation behind it. I’m getting a headache just trying to think about it. I’m going to sleep on it.”

“Maybe you’re right. The only way we could really get some head way is to talk to Seti.”

“You should catch a catnap too. I’m going to dream about smoking a cigarette. Maybe a whole pack.”

“I’m just not going to think about it.”

“So, was she hot? You know, the chick at Bamboo 52.”

“What do you think?”

“Damn. I’m a lesbian too. I’m just in a man’s body.”

Kayla laughed. “Shut up. Good night.

“Night Kayla.” Rich closed his eyes.

Chapter 7

Director Skinner looked over Molder’s and Skully’s reports on the Bigfoot case. “Crack is wack, Rich. Get higher baby, and don’t ever come down!” Chloe laughed as she remembered the lyrics to the old rap song “White Lines” by the Sugar Hill Gang. The phone rang, startling Chloe.

“Yes, Brenda?”

“Hello ma’am. Special Agent Rikk Helt and Agent Angelina Tegan are here.”

“Send them in please.”

The new agents in the case walked in, rigid and eager. Helt was a young Thai-American man in his 30’s who was well-schooled in law enforcement. Like Molder, he was an ex-cop but was more into undercover work into Asian gangs who just received a Law degree unlike Molder, who spent 5 years in uniform while going to college at night to complete his Masters Degree in Criminal Justice. Tegan was an attractive Mexican-American woman who was fresh-faced and fresh out of college, and ten years younger than her partner and the FBI was her first fulltime job.

“Special Agent Helt and Agent Tegan reporting for duty ma’am.” said Helt in a military fashion.

“As you were.” Skinner followed Helt’s military manner, amusing herself. “Nice to meet you.” Skinner stood from behind her desk and extended her hand. Helt took her hand, looking into the Director’s eyes and smiled. Tegan also made eye contact briefly and shyly put her head down.

“Special Agent Helt, I understand that you were on the David Long case as well as the Kennedy Abduction. Mighty fine work.”

“Thank you ma’am.” Helt beamed.

“Agent Tegan. Hmmm, it looks as if this is your first case. When did you start?”

“I graduated from the Academy last month ma’am. I started last Monday. Your speech at the graduation was awe-inspiring if I may say so Director.”

“You may.” Chloe smiled. “Flattery will get you everywhere in law enforcement. If you have any questions or need some pointers, please come by my office anytime Agent Tegan.” Skinner gave Tegan the once-over look. Tegan started to perspire but felt exhilarated at the same time.

“Yes ma’am. I definitely will.”

Helt thought to himself in disgust, “Damn, it’s that kind of party huh? There goes my brownie points.”

“Let’s get to it then, shall we?” said Chloe. “You have already been debriefed about the Bigfoot case. Don’t let the ludicrous name fool you. A local police officer was killed and I’ve taken two of my best and maybe most controversial agents off the case due to some unseen circumstances. Because of that, I ask that you report to me directly. Agent Tegan, here’s my personal cell number. Um, because I know that as a woman in law enforcement, the transition from college can be a difficult one. Please don’t hesitate to call.” Chloe smiled at her. Agent Tegan blushed.

‘Give me a fuckin’ break! Yeah, she wants to show you around all right. Wait, this is hella hot! Stop the hate…appreciate!’ Helt thought to himself.

“We’ll keep you abreast of our findings!” Helt said. Angelina winced as if in pain.

Chloe smirked. He’s a wise ass but I like him for some strange reason. He reminds me of Molder, but not smoking crack. “Yes, do that.” Chloe had to hold back to try to keep a straight face. “You’re dismissed.”

Helt and Tegan walked out.

“She likes you. I could tell.” Helt told Tegan.

“I kinda figured.” answered Tegan.

“You should really give her a call. She’s a wealth of information.” Helt smirked.

“Fuck off, Helt. You’re buying coffee.”

“Whoa, you’re the rookie. As we both know, that’s your job.”

“If you want me to call the Director, you’ll do as I say.”

Wow, this college girl’s a lot smarter than she lets on. This is going to be the start of a beautiful relationship. “You want a bagel with that?”

“Extra cream cheese.”

Chloe kicked her shoes off under her big oak desk. The phone rang again.

“Ma’am. NYPD Captain Walsh on line 3.”

“Thanks. Director Skinner.”

“Hello ma’am. That favor that you asked me? You know, to keep tabs on Skully and Molder?”

“Yes, go ahead Captain.”

“It turns out that they’ve boarded a plane about two and a half hours ago to Malta.”

“What? What the fuck is in Malta?”

No idea ma’am, I’m Irish. I do know that tobacco is its chief import and that the architecture has a distinct Baroque influence.”

“Okay, I didn’t ask for the wikipedia version. It’s so goddamn hard to find good help these days.” Chloe fumed and hung up. “Well, they don’t have any jurisdiction there. Let them just try to score some cheap smokes and come home. If they try to be all buffy off-duty, I’ll have them working as crossing guards.” she thought to herself. She then envisioned Kayla in a crossing guard uniform, although not the conventional kind.

Chapter 8

Skully and Molder landed in Rome. There was no layover and they had 20 minutes to walk to the other side of the large airport in order to catch the flight to Malta.

“Rich! Wait for me!” Kayla was at most walking semi-swiftly in her four-inch heels.

“Why do you have to wear those shoes? Come on, Skully!”

“Damnit, Rich I’m always looking good no matter what, you know that! It’s not easy, it’s hard work!” Kayla took off the pumps and started running along with Rich.

“Hey, don’t you feel like OJ Simpson in the old car rental commercial running through the airport?” said Molder.

“That’s way before my time old man. Eat my dust!” Skully ran ahead of Molder.

They made check-in panting and were barely intelligible to the ticket agent in addition to the language barrier.

“Don’t you speak Italian, Kayla?”

“No dork, I’m an Italian-American.”

“Your parents never taught it to you?”

“No. Dude, you should’ve done some research before we decided to embark on another adventure.”

“Dude, stop saying dude. Some Colonel Frata of the Armed Forces of Malta contacted a friend of a friend and here we are.”

“Um, I meant to ask you: Why is the Maltese military involved?”

“Well, the law of the land is actually the Malta Police Force. The AMF backs them up, especially in matters of drug trafficking and, um, in the case of the good Sergeant Seti, illegal immigration.”

“Well, we know that he’s all right so we can laugh about it.”

“Right, but is he really all right. Is Seti really Seti? Or is something else up? We don’t know shit until we talk to him.”

“Yeah. We really knew him for less than an hour, but I felt a connection. You know, we happened to start a great rapport, hit it off right away.” Skully pondered.

“That’s why we’re here and we’re not even on agency time.”

“Yeah, I needed a vacation anyway. Even if we’re working.”

“So, who says that we can’t take in some of the sights and stuff?”

“Rich, you’re pretty sharp for a crackhead and for being the worst report taker in FBI history.”

“Come on, Chloe didn’t say all that.”

“That’s Director Skinner to you Molder. You’re not cool like that with her.”

“She wants me. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

The two agents snickered. Passengers were watching Skully and Molder the fifteen minutes that they were bantering back and forth while boarding the plane and taking their seats. The agents weren’t very audible, but people reading body language could sense the repressed sexual tension that existed between the two seemingly crazy Americans and were wondering why they weren’t members of the mile high club already.

“Ever rode a chopper, Kayla?”

“No. Is that really what we’re doing? I thought you were pulling my leg. Where are we going?”

“Gonzo. That’s where Seti appeared, uniform, gun belt and the whole shebang. There’s not much of a population on that island, just an old temple of worship named Mnajdra. Word has it that animal sacrifice occured there around the time it was constructed in 2500 BC.”

“Wait, so you did do research.”

“No, I was actually debriefed on the phone.”

“Ooooh, kinky! Oh fuck, I’ve been hanging out with you for way too long. I’m starting to think like a man!”

“Cool, so you think about sex like all day?”

“Nevermind. What else is up with Seti?”

“I don’t know everything yet. The Police took his shield and gun because they didn’t know what the hell was going on. Then they called AMF because they deemed this an immigration situation. Frata verified Seti’s identity on the International Law Enforcement database and is going to give him back his gun and shield upon his release from the hospital. They had to keep him because he seemed disoriented. What do you expect after making it from Eureka City to Gonzo, Malta in fifteen minutes?”

Chapter 10

Sgt. Seti opened his eyes and saw a man in heavily starched full dress military uniform seated by the door. He saw by the eagle that the man was of high rank and out of habit got a bit apprehensive in the presence of an officer. The man had a dark complexion, and a face with hard features, like someone who is very business-like and cunning. He looked to be Mediterranean or possibly Italian by ethnicity.

Seti looked around and observed that he was in a hospital bed.

“Um, hello sir.” said Sgt. Seti sheepishly.

The military officer who looked to be deep in his own thoughts looked at Seti, stood up and smiled.

“Ah, my friend! Good to see that you’re awake. We don’t see many Americans here on Gonzo Island. Especially one as American as a real life Sheriff! Do you remember how you got here, Sgt Seti?”

“Gonzo Island? Where’s that, sir?” asked Seti incredulously.

“Hmmm. Well, welcome to Malta Sergeant. I am Colonel Frata from the Armed Forces of Malta.”

“Malta?!? Holy shit!”

“I’ve made arrangements with the American Federal Bureau of Investigations to come. Would you like to wait for them before I start asking you any questions?”

“I don’t mind you asking me anything sir. I don’t know anything.”

“You don’t remember how you got here, Sergeant?”

“No sir.”

“Hmmm. Do you mind if I smoke, Sergeant?”

“You can do whatever the hell you want, sir. It looks like it’s your show. I would appreciate if you had another one for me.”

“Yes, of course. It seems as if you need it.” said Col. Frata, holding a gold cigarette case filled with unfiltered cigarettes. Seti took one and Col. Frata lit it with a matching gold lighter.

“What do you remember, Sergeant? How did you end up on Gonzo?”

“I remember I was back in Eureka City at night, on duty investigating some murders with some FBI agents in a house. Then some big hairy thing kicks the door in and kills one of the Deputies and one of the FBI agents and I chased it. Then some light seems to appear right in front of me and I’m running to fast to stop. I ran right into it. Then I find myself in the middle of what looks like Stonehenge but with less structures and smaller too and it was daytime. I tried to get up to look around and then I remember falling back down. Then I wake up here with you. Sir. Out of curiousity, why is the military investigating me and not the police or some other law enforcement outfit?”

“Well, here the Armed Forces also enforce the law and we assist the Malta Police Force in, um, immigration matters.”

Seti burst out laughing. Col. Frata also laughed.

“Well, I guess that that would make sense that they would classify this as an immigration matter.” Seti said. “I would’ve done the same exact thing.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Besides confused as hell, just fine sir. Uh, do happen to know where my gun and uniform went to?”

“You’re a fellow lawman, Sergeant. I had your equipment safeguarded until you were feeling better. I could give it to you now if you want but I’d rather that you wait for the FBI agents before leaving the hospital. I am not holding you, I believe you. Who could possbly invent a story such as yours? I just want the agents to accompany you for your own safety.”

“No problem, sir. I wasn’t in a hurry to go out sightseeing at this point. No offense to Malta nor you.”

“None taken. Can I get you anything? It’s a little past suppertime but I think that they have extra meals at the nursing station.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll be right back.”

As soon as Col. Frata left, Seti snickered. My old Marine buddies wouldn’t believe me if I told them that a full bird Colonel served me dinner in bed. On second thought, I’d better not. They’d turn it into something gay, Seti thought to himself.

Chapter 11

Kayla screamed with delight as the Huey military helicopter flew out of Malta Harbour and on the way to Gonzo. Rich looked at her and smiled. Kayla looked and pointed and laughed. They were seated side by side on the rear of the pilot side with the doors open.

“Damn, I should’ve brought my camera! Whoa!” Kayla screamed over the propeller noise.

“Here, use my phone and I’ll email them to you.”

“Cool!” said Kayla as she grabbed the phone from Rich and started snapping away.

The sight of the sun hitting the ocean made Rich sleepy and he started to close his eyes.

“Molder! You’re missing all the sights!” Kayla yelled. “How could you fall asleep when it feels like we’re going to fall out?”

“Like this.” Rich closed his eyes again.

“Hey,, remember ‘Predator?’” Kayla then did her best Shwarzenegger, “Arghhh, Get do dee chawpa!”

“Get do dee chawpa! Get do dee chawpa! Get do dee chawpa! Arghh!” Rich heard repeatedly as he drifted to sleep.

SK9 [II]

Chapter 12

Special Agent Helt and Agent Tegan were back in Eureka City at sunset, in the house in the woods where the case originated from clad in navy blue windbreakers with “FBI” emblazoned on the backs and rubber gloves on.

“The forensics team is pretty top notch for a small department. They didn’t mess shit up.”

“What are you trying to say, Rikk? I’m from a small town. You think that we all sit around and spit tobacco into spitoons, marry our cousins and end up on ‘Jerry Springer?’”

“No, I, uh…”

“Gotcha, you stuttering prick.”

They both laughed. “You know, you’re all right for a rookie.” Rikk said.

“Thanks man.” Tegan replied.

“I talked to one of the deputies that was on duty the night of the murders and of the disappearances.”

“Disappearances? They said that there was only a Sergeant James Seti missing.”

“They counted Special Agent Molder also.”

Tegan laughed at the mention of Molder’s name. “Did you read his report, Helt?”

Helt smiled. “Yeah. It was amazing. Not in a good way either.”

“Chloe told him to stop smoking crack.”

“Chloe? Director Skinner is now Chloe? Oh behave! On second thought, don’t!”

“No, it’s not what you think, you nasty pervert. Director Skinner is the consumate professional. She’s more of a mentor than anything.”

“I’ll bet! Mentoring…Boom chicka wah wah! Chloe Skinner. Angie Stone. Starring in ‘Debriefing’…another in the No Man’s Land Series….these agents will…get…their…information…at…all…costs!”

Tegan snickered. “Angie Stone?”

“Yeah, that’s your porn name. You lived on Stone Blvd, right?”

“Wait, how does that work out?”

“You take your middle name, in your case you don’t have one, then you take the street that you live on or the cross streets and wallah! You’ve got your porn name! In Director Skinner’s case, she already has a porn name. I don’t know her middle name anyway or the street she lives on.”

“Wow. And you were a cop?”

“How do you think I got this way. The Bureau’s where the money and the fame is, but they’re a little tight assed. Except for you, of course.”

“Yeah, my ass isn’t tight at all.”

“What?!?”

“I’m Angie Stone, remember?”

“Right, right. Damn, we’d better start looking around or something.”

“Shh! Get down!” whispered Tegan.

Outside, the sound of dead leaves rustling and twigs breaking was heard and then the sound began to grow faint, as if someone was walking away.

“Let’s follow.” Rikk said as he drew hi gun.

Tegan ran after Rikk into the woods and could feel her heart in her throat.

Chapter 13

Skully and Molder stepped into Seti’s room.

“Hey, Sleeping Ugly. Wake up!” shouted Kayla.

Seti smiled. “I am awake.”

“I know. I just felt like saying it.” Kayla kissed him on the cheek.

“Dude, you look okay.” Rich smiled as he grabbed Seti’s shoulder.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” Seti then told them what he had told Colonel Frata.

“Hmm. That’s strange.” said Kayla. “And why did you end up here?”

“It has to do with that Stonehenge-lite looking place that I ended up in.”

“Hello agents.” Col Frata said as he walked in. After a brief introduction, Col Frata gave a package wrapped in black plastic to Seti. “You’ll need this, Sergeant.”

Frata, Skully and Molder left so Seti could get dressed. “We need to look around if that’s okay with you, Colonel.”

“I don’t have a problem with it, personally. But I understand that you’re out of your jurisdiction. If you want to look around and find out what went on with your friend, we never had this conversation. We’re still all basically law enforcement agents and investigators. If any of your superiors catch wind of this, I will have to deny ever meeting you. You understand, of course.”

“Fully, Colonel.” Molder smiled.

“It was a pleasure meeting all three of you. Please apologize to Seti that I could not see him off at this time. I must attend to other matters.”

“Of course.” The three shook hands and Col Frata left.

“Okay, I’m decent.” Seti smiled as he opened his room door and walked out.

The three walked out of the hospital making sure they were out of the earshot of passersby.

“Mnajdra, guys?” Kayla said.

“Hell yeah. I had a feeling about that place when I found myself over there.” said Seti.

“Listen, let’s plan this out and head out first thing in the morning. Make sure that we’re all on the same page.” Kayla briefed them about what she had found out about SK9.

“Satanists, I knew it!” Seti said.

“Doesn’t sound like the garden variety Satanists though. Most Satanists that I’ve read about see Satanism as a reactionary belief to Christianity and really don’t believe in Satan as a god at all, but Satan as themselves. SK9 is more of a hands-on, practical type of Satanism. Human sacrifices, or culling. What we saw back in the cabin was a rite that SK9 calls ‘Hohes Opfer.’ The old man took his family with him as he knew that he was dying. SK9 believes that culling, whether by sacrifice or any other rite cleanses the human stock.” Kayla explained.

“So what was that bigfoot thing?” Rich asked.

“That wasn’t bigfoot in the traditional sense. If all this SK9 shit is true, that thing was just one of those ‘things’ that presenced themselves through the nexion because of SK9 and their real world shit.” Kayla shuddered.

“You don’t sound like yourself at all Kayla.” Molder said with concern. “Why didn’t you tell me all this?”

“I knew you’d believe me. I have this feeling. A bad one. And you know that I don’t believe in anything paranormal.”

“When we get back home, we’re going to talk to this Mr A.”

“He won’t talk to you, Rich.”

“You need to take him in then. We’ll be covert and I’ll back you up.”

“Okay. If Skinner puts us back on the case.”

“Wait, you guys are off the case?” Seti asked.

“Yeah. We came to get you. Now that we’re here, we want to know what happened to you. And to me.” said Molder.

Seti felt himself choke up. “You guys only knew me for less than an hour.”

“You’re a cop. I know that the FBI and municipal police departments don’t usually have the best realtionships, but we all have to look out for each other, regardless of the bullshit. Besides, we all seemed to click right away. You don’t find that with everybody.”

“Okay. Let’s find a local watering hole and talk.” James suggested.

The three found a local bar which was empty. They sat at a table and drank moderately discussing whatever else they knew about SK9, 352 and general knowledge on Satanism.

“Hmmm. This is heavy shit. 352 or SK9 are involved in rapes, burglaries, and murders. Do we have an estimated membership number? Prior arrests? Convictions?” Seti inquired.

“No. In the Satanic Community, it is believed that SK9 is fake. Unfortunately, we’re finding out that that’s far from the truth.” Kayla said.

“Damn. This is some serious shit that we’ve fuckin’ stepped in. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting drunk as hell.” Molder announced.

“I second that.” Kayla said.

“Goddamn peer pressure.” Seti added with a smile.

Kayla ordered a double Long Island iced tea while Rich and James downed the very non-Maltese Dos Equis beers and argued about baseball. Rich is a Mets fan and James likes the Giants.

“Bonds is a fuckin’ juicer and Randy Johnson is not, I repeat not going to get his 300th career win.” Rich argued.

“And the Phillies are going to take over first place again. And the Mets are going to choke. Again.” Seti retorted.

Kayla drank her tea deeply and felt a buzz. She ordered another double and went over to the cd jukebox. Ah! Mostly American music, she thought to herself.

James excused himself and told Rich that he was going to check them all in at the hotel down the street and leave their keys with the clerk in the main lobby. Seti needed to call the Eureka Sheriff’s Department and come up with a story as to his disappearance.

“Hey You” by Pink Floyd blared into the bar. Kayla moved her body alluringly in time to the music. Rich ordered two more beers and a shot.

“Wow.” Rich said, looking at Kayla. She was swaying her hips and seemed to be in her own world. Then she turned and looked at Rich over her right shoulder and didn’t drop her stare. Molder sat frozen in his seat and then walked to Kayla. She turned around and they were locked in an embrace. So many things were understood without saying a word. Kayla had put “Hey You” on repeat.

Chapter 14

Helt and Tegan stopped to listen to which direction the footsteps were heading. “Through the bluff!” said Tegan in a hoarse whisper. They didn’t have to stop very much to listen for the footsteps because they were nonstop. Whoever it was wasn’t aware that they were being followed. Or worse yet, didn’t care.

A purple shroud of light seemed to engulf the wooded area and the footsteps were gone. Then the purple haze was gone as well. Tegan looked around bewildered. “What the fuck?!?”

“Exactly” Helt reiterated. “Maybe Molder wasn’t high on crack.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m about to mosey back to the cabin and shit-can this purple light thing.”

“What? But Rich was right and we’re going to pretend like he wasn’t? I don’t know about that.”

“Well, let’s think about it. In the meantime, we still have an investigation to conduct.”

“You’re learning too quickly for your own good, kid.”

The figure in black watched Tegan and Helt walk back towards the direction of the cabin. Mr A smiled to himself and walked in the other direction.

Chapter 16

“Look, it’s the Order of Nine Angles sigil.” Seti said as he pointed to a rock in the Mnajdra site carved with the infamous sigil.

“So, that means that human sacrifice did occur here.” Skully said grimly. “And no one knew what the fuck that meant.”

“Or they did and just covered it up. Here on Malta the O9A Nexus is Still Ta Demm. ‘Blood of Stars.’ The membership numbers are of course, unknown. Anywhere from twenty to two hundred.” said Molder.

“That still doesn’t give us shit. Anyway, how do you know about all this shit?” James asked.

“The internet.” Rich smiled. “The Order has various Nexuses worldwide. I don’t know if the ones who post O9A manuscripts on the ‘net are the real deal or providing the free press for the actual doers. There’s no crime in posting somebody else’s material with consent. Besides, the O9A welcome that sharing of information. What we’re concentrating on is SK9/352, a Nexion of O9A. Stilla Ta Demm is purportedly another 352 Nexion. Scary shit, if you ask me.”

“So, the animal sacrifices were just lies. James! You went through a Nexion.” Kayla exclaimed.

For a moment, Rich was scared. In the year and a half that he was assigned to be Kayla’s partner, she was always the skeptical and over-logical one while he tended to believe that things outside of the norm actually existed. Kayla was starting to cross over, but it was a sign of the sinister things to come.

Chapter 17

Director Skinner left the office at 7pm as usual. She passed by Brenda. “What are you still doing here, Brenda?”

“Just catching up on some work, Madam Director.”

Chloe looked at her as Brenda looked at her computer. She looked at the “Believe” tattoo on her right hand. Brenda also had a sleeve of tattoos on her left arm. Dragons, fairies, kids’ names, hearts, even a pentagram. Chloe looked at Brenda’s long platinum blonde hair and didn’t see any roots. “Only one way to find out if she’s a real blonde.” Skinner smirked. Brenda only worked for the FBI as an administrative assistant for only three months so the fascination phase was still there. Chloe wondered if Brenda had anymore tattoos that were covert in nature. It was against FBI policy to have visible tattoos, but Chloe hired Brenda on the promise that Brenda would only roll up her sleeves before 9 am or after 5 pm or if weekend work was necessary.

“Want to go for a drink, Brenda?” Chloe asked.

“Ma’am?” Brenda looked up with amazement.

Chloe made a cup symbol with her right hand, raised her hand to her lips and mouthed “Drink” and pointed at Brenda and back at herself.

Brenda laughed. “Um, sure ma’am. Why not?”

“Call me Chloe off duty, Brenda.” Skinner looked at Brenda’s almost six foot frame and legs that seemed to go on forever. Those would look good wrapped around my my head, thought Chloe. This is what power is.

“Yes, ma’am. I mean, Chloe.”

The bar in downtown DC was trendy and full of yuppie types hoping to hook up. All eyes, male and female, turned to Chloe and Brenda as they entered the dimly lit bar. Pop music blared in the background.

“Not your type of crowd?” Chloe asked Brenda.

“It’s okay. I’m not picky at all.”

“If you want, we could go to the heavy metal bar two blocks down. I’m easy.” Chloe smiled.

“Oh no! I wouldn’t dream of it. I just want to unwind. It’s my kind of music but I don’t feel like getting amped up. Oh, there I go just going on and on.”

Chloe smiled. Was Brenda nervous because she liked her or because she was intimidated by Chloe’s authority? Only one way to find out, Chloe thought slyly to herself.

“What’re you drinking?” Chloe asked.

“Coors, please.”

A chick who drinks beer, Chloe thought. That’s a fuckin’ turn-on!

“Two Long Island Iced Teas and two Coors.” Chloe told the bartender.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Chloe?”

“Whatever gave you that idea, Brenda?” Skinner winked at her.

Brenda shrugged and laughed.

Forty minutes later at the bar, Chloe and Brenda were drunk and talking to each other in close proximity.

Chloe got out of Brenda that she’s 34 and a single mom of 10-year-old twins. The father ran off with another woman when the twins were two months old. Skinner tried the “men suck” approach and the only one to understand a woman is another woman.

“I’ve been with another woman before.” Brenda said. “It was a girl named Adrianna and we were in a threesome with some guy named Rich back when I was eighteen.

Could it be the crackhead Special Agent? Chloe thought. Nah, it couldn’t be. Could it? Rich never saw Brenda at Central Office before. I always debriefed Rich and Kayla in the field. Hmmm, debriefing Kayla. No it can’t be him. Rich is a dork.

“How old was this guy Rich when you did it?” Chloe asked.

“He was a little older. He was 22.”

Damnit. Rich is now 38! Brenda’s 34. It can’t be him!

“Did you like your experience with Adrianna?”

“Oh yeah….she knew what I liked and I knew what she liked. But this guy Rich was an animal. He was so awesome. He handled us both like nothing. Mmmmm. I wonder what he’s doing now?”

“Enough about that crackhead!” Chloe accidentally thought aloud.

“Huh?”

“Uh, look at that guy’s blackhead, gross!”

“It’s just so cool that you’re like the boss of the FBI and stuff and your so down to earth or something.” Brenda said drunkily.

“Do you like girls?” Chloe almost demanded.

“Well, I’m not strictly dickly if that’s what you’re asking. But that was the first and only time I was with Adrianna and Rich.”

Frustrated, Chloe grabbed Brenda and started to French kiss her. Again all eyes were on them. Brenda reciprocated the kiss and grabbed the back of Chloe’s hair.

All the hearts of the males at the bar were beating faster but not because of the alcohol.

Chapter 18

“Let’s spread out and look around.” Molder said.

“Wait, I just thought of something. How am I going to get back to the States? I don’t have my passport with me.” Seti said. “Even though I’m in uniform, they don’t give anybody a break.”

“Better learn Maltese and get a job, then.” Kayla teased.

“You should save up and look for a place too.”

“You guys are assholes. I’m totally serious about this and all you guys do is fuck around. You guys are fuckin’ FBI agents? Holy shit!” Seti could feel his face turning red.

“Relax James. We wouldn’t be kidding if we didn’t have it under control. I’ll call Colonel Frata personally.” Rich said.

Skully began to mock James. “You guys are fuckin’ FBI agents? Holy shit!”

Seti smiled sheepishly. “Okay, sorry.”

“Holy shit! You guys are assholes!” Molder chimed in.

“Wow! You guys are real pains in the ass. What would you do if I wasn’t around?” Seti asked.

“We’d actually be working.” said Skully. “We should really look around.

The afternoon turned up different 352 sigils carved in stone but no evidence of any wrongdoing. “I think that we should plan to head back to the States. Let’s go back to the hotel and make arrangements, smoke a whole pack of cigarettes.” said Skully.

“Yeah. Okay James. You have a good one. Nice knowing you. Keep it real!” said Molder.

I’ll just ignore them and they’ll stop, Seti thought to himself. He just started walking with Rich and Kayla toward the hotel.

Colonel Frata saw them off at the airport the next day. “Call me if you’re ever in Malta again.” He then looked at Seti. “Use a plane next time.”

Seti smiled and shook Col Frata’s hand. There was much work to do back home and quite possibly without being on the FBI’s payroll.

 

SK9 [III]

Chapter 19

Chloe woke up to find Brenda performing cunnilingus on her in a cheap motel. They were both still naked from the night before and hungover.

“Mmmm. Good morning Brenda…”

“Hey Chloe…”

“Well, I’ll be Madam Director here in the motel too. You’re such a good girl, Brenda!”

“Holy shit!” Brenda looked at the clock. It read 11:00 am.

“Um, who told you to stop what you were doing?” Chloe demanded. “What are you worried about that for?”“Oh yeah.” Brenda giggled.

At the same time, Helt and Tegan were a coffeeshop about 2 miles down the road from the crimescene. They surveyed the house and the surrounding area and produced no new findings.

“What made you join the Feds?” asked Helt while sipping black coffee.

Tegan was twirling her eggs and bacon with a fork but didn’t eat. “It’s going to sound corny, but I wanted to do something different than the traditional occupations that my family got into. My father’s a rancher, so was my grandfather and his father. My mother’s a nurse, my grandmother helped out on my other grandfather’s ranch, her mother did too. I was also fascinated with investigating crime. Solving a case is obviously rewarding but working on leads is always intriguing. I also get into sick stuff like getting into the mind of a criminal, see what makes them tick. How about you?”

Helt stuffed a piece of toast in his mouth and laughed. “I don’t know. I just wanted to do something exciting. Something that doesn’t get monotonous. Plus, chicks dig the gun and credentials. Only kidding about the last part. Sort of.”

“Well so far, we’ve got two texts left at the scene. Just leafing through these books, what is going through these peoples’ minds? White supremacist with a bit of the occult mixed in, perhaps?”

“You think that we could close this case? No suspects, nothing.”

“No. This begs for investigation, Rikk.”

Mr A walked in and smiled at the agents. Tegan and Helt glanced at him and just nodded. Mr A then turned his back and walked towards the opposite end of the counter from where the agents sat.

“What more can we get from this?” Rikk asked.

“I don’t think that this is the end of it. Neither do you Rikk and you know it.”

“Okay, we’ve got a fictional race war story and another story about a French woman and an Aryan bigwig. So, the white boys have strange tastes in literature. We have a body about 60 feet from the cabin, decapitated, head not recovered, and sucked dry of blood, genitalia missing and missing pathes of skin. Inside the cabin, the old man wastes his wife and two grown sons before taking himself out and the murder weapon is missing. Hmm, what the fuck was I thinking? There’s too many doors left open, but we have no leads.”

Mr A got up from the counter without drinking coffee. “Bamboo 52.” he said quickly and left.

“What the fuck? Follow him!” Rikk yelled.

Rikk and Angelina ran out of the coffeehouse and saw nothing. As if Mr A vaporized.

“Fuck!” said Rikk. “Fuck!”

“What is it?” asked Angelina.

“Can’t you see? they’re fuckin’ playing us! Somebody’s fuckin’ playing us. Here we are saying we have no leads and that weirdo says ‘Bamboo 52′ and fuckin’ disappears. Like something out of a cheesy movie!”

“Well, we’re going to have to play the game and see where it takes us. We have to find out what the fuck Bamboo 52 is.”

Chapter 20

9:30 pm EST the night before:

Skully, Molder and Seti strode down 52nd St in Manhattan with a purpose. Molder immediately made a left into the back alleyway and Seti crossed the street and waited. Skully walked into Bamboo 52. Molina was in the same place at the bar where Kayla first met her. She tried blending in with the crowd while walking towards Molina. Molina spotted Kayla about 10 feet away and jumped over the bar, spilling drinks on patrons. She ran into the back towards the kitchen and Kayla went after her.

Molina ran out the back door and Molder tried to grab her. Molina rolled on the ground and avoided Molder’s arms altogether and proceeded to run out into the street. The evasion tactic caused Molder to stumble but he recovered quickly and gave pursuit as Kayla burst through the back door. Molina was fast but Seti ran across the street and pushed Molina right into a light pole. Molina fell to the ground badly dazed and Seti quickly placed handcuffs on her and pulled her to her feet as Kayla and Rich ran up.

With perfect timing, an NYPD detective that owed Rich a favor and pulled up in an unmarked black Ford Crown Victoria. Kayla opened the rear door and Seti shoved Molina inside. Rich and Kayla ran around to the passenger side of the Crown Vic with Rich jumping in next to Detective Valle while Kayla jumped in the back. Seti jumped in right after he shoved Molina inside.

“Let’s go, Frankie!” Rich shouted.

Tires screeched and Detective Valle sped toward the 59th Street Bridge towards Queens.

“Where the fuck are you pigs taking me?” Molina said weakly.

Kayla reached back, made a fist, and punched Molina in the face. Molina’s head drooped towards Seti. Kayla grabbed her and shook her. “That’s for stabbing me, bitch!” Molina opened her eyes briefly then collapsed on James’ shoulder.

Ten minutes later, they pulled up to a warehouse on an empty street on the Queens side of the bridge. Kayla dragged Molina out on her side. Seti ran around the car to help. Rich was about to get out of the car when Det Valle grabbed his shoulder. “We’re good now, right?”

“Yeah, Frankie. Thanks a million.”

“Take it easy, Rich. Don’t get jammed up.”

“Be safe Frankie.”

The Crown Vic left at a casual speed.

Rich took out a large ring of keys from his jacket. He found the key he was looking for immediately and opened the sidedoor to the warehouse.

They dragged Molina off to the left to an office. Rich again found that key and opened the office.

“What, you got a side job as a night wachman or janitor of this shithole?” Kayla asked.

“No. The Feds pay a generous salary. I’m just cashing in on some favors.” Rich said as they sat Molina down at a chair directly across from a desk.

Rich went to the desk and turned on the desklamp and shined it on Molina’s face.

Molina woke up with a start. She remembered that she got grabbed outside the sushi bar and cuffed. Fuck, I’m not at the precinct though, she thought to herself. She was scared. The light shined in her face and all she could see was shadows.

“Who the fuck are you really, Molina?” said a voice.

“Fuck you!” spat Molina.

Then someone slapped her. The sexy blonde chick that I laid and stabbed, she thought.

“I said, who the fuck are you?!? Don’t make me ask the same question twice.”

“That’s neither here nor there. Imperium Galactica exists within me. I am but a shell.”

This time, James slapped her. Kayla smiled at him.

“Once the nexions are completed, no one of the profane will be beyond reichsstandshaft.”

“Kill her.” said the voice in front of the light.

Kayla grabbed Moina as James began to duct tape her too the chair. When James was done, Kayla had the obsidian blade pressed up against Molina’s cheek. “I want to cut her face up, first.” She pricked Molina’s face and licked the trickle of blood.

Molina’s started to cry, making the cut burn. Then she started to laugh.

“Agios O Baphomet! Hail Shub Niggurat!”

Fuck. This bitch isn’t going to tell us shit, Rich thought. Hmmm, what the fuck to do now?

Just then, they could hear the side door of the warehouse being torn open. As they looked around, a purple mist could be seen in the darkness of the warehouse.

All three drew their guns as Rich shut the lamp off.

Molina stopped laughing.

Chapter 21

“Bamboo 52 is a sushi bar in New York City. I’ve been there before. I don’t know what the hell that has to do with anything. Yet, a lead is a lead regardless. Get down there.” Director Skinner looked across her desk at Helt and Tegan. “You’ll get all the backup you need. You know that. If they’re playing us Rikk, it doesn’t matter. It’s a slow, grinding process. We’ve got the resources and the firepower. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Helt got up. “I understand Madam Director. It just bothers me that we’re going in there not knowing shit.”

“It’s your job to find out. This is where the line between a cop and an agent is clearly seen. The cops are reactive, doing their jobs after something happens. The agent is proactive. Above and beyond, sometimes running to the scene as things are occuring. There’s no clocks to punch here, Rikk.”

“Yes ma’am.” Helt walked out and Tegan followed.

“Are you feeling okay, Rikk?” Tegan asked as they walked out of FBI Headquarters.

“Yeah. I just don’t like the feeling that these people, whoever they are, have the drop on us. To tell you the truth, it’s scary. And I don’t like to say that.”

“We investigate crimes and apprehend criminals. There’s a lot to be scared of out there.”

“But…” Rikk wagged his finger and said grimly, “This is different. We’re dealing with something that seems to be one step ahead of us.” Rikk looked around and lowered his voice. “I have a funny feeling about Skinner. Either she doesn’t feel the magnitude of this or…fuck, I don’t even want to say it.”

“What, what, Rikk? What the hell?”

“I don’t quite trust her.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re getting paranoid!”

“Maybe. But I don’t feel good about this whole thing at all.”

Helt and Tegan watched the sunset. To Rikk, it didn’t bring beauty or comfort, only a sense of dread that he couldn’t comprehend.

“Oh fuck!” whispered Kayla.

James was on one side of the office door back flat against the wall, gun drawn. Kayla was on the other assuming the same position. Rich was prone with a small portion of his face and his gun peering around the corner of the desk. The purple haze was around them now that illuminated the darkness only slightly. Molina was still in the chair, silent and smiling from ear to ear.

“In here!” Molina screamed. Kayla walked up to the chair and shot Molina in the head at close range and ran back quickly to her position.

The door in the office broke open and hit the back wall behind the desk. Shards of the door scattered everywhere. The purple light was brighter now.

Chapter 22

The FBI, with the assistance of NYPD Emergency Services Unit planned a full convergence on Bamboo 52. They would enter through the front door and back door and had the whole strip blocked off. No vehicles entering 52nd St for six blocks and more importantly, no vehicles exiting.

Rikk knew in his heart that it was bit overkill and that possible civil suits may follow, but he never managed to shake the grim feeling about the case. He managed to obtain a Federal Warrant on the basis that this was a multiple murder investigation.

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Bamboo 52 was closed for business at 10pm on a Friday night. The sign outside read “Temporarily Closed.” The closing occured only fifteen minutes after Molina was snatched off the streets by “vigilantes of the profane,” as described by the few in the crowd inside the sushi bar.

The first ESU teams to go in through both doors simultaneously were met by hails of gunfire. Rikk and Angelina were standing with Captain Davis about seventy-five feet from Bamboo 52 behind an ESU van. “Officer down! Officer down! 10-13! 10-13!” was heard on Cpt Davis’ radio. “Holy shit! What the fuck did we get the fuck ourselves into?” Cpt Davis yelled to the agents. He was talking to no one as Tegan and Helt ran towards the sushi bar.

Kayla and Seti began to fire towards the door. Rich assumed a semi-kneeling position behind the desk and also began to fire at the door. The purple haze was gone. In the dark, gunfire was returned. “What the fuck?” yelled Rich.

“Let’s get out there!” Kayla yelled back.

The three then ran out the office door and into the wide open area of the warehouse while dropping to the floor and firing their weapons. The purple haze returned.

Chapter 23

As Helt and Tegan ran inside Bamboo 52, a purple haze converged on them. “Get down!” Tegan screamed. “It might be gas!”

Helt assumed a prone position and yelled back, “It’s that same purple shit back in the woods in Cali! Fuckin shoot at that shit!”

Helt and Molder stood almost fifteen feet away from each other. Upon seeing each other’s profiles within the purple haze and on opposite sides of the battle, they fired upon each other. Helt was a fourth of a second faster. Molder clutched his chest and collapsed on the floor.

“Fuck!” Kayla screamed as she shot Rikk five times in the torso area. Rikk went down. Tegan was a little faster than the usual quick-drawing Sergeant Seti and James went down. Tegan faced Kayla, who stopped firing when she saw in the haze that Rikk was wearing an FBI windbreaker.

“FBI! Throw the fuckin’ gun down!” Tegan yelled at Kayla.

Kayla complied. She put her hands up with bewilderment. “I’m Special Agent Skully. FBI.”

Tegan lowered her weapon and replied with shock and fear. “What? Skully? Um, what the fuck are you doing? You just fired upon and killed 3 NYPD ESU officers and 2 FBI police officers. I’m taking you in.”

Kayla looked around. “How the fuck did we end up in Bamboo 52?”

Tegan looked at Kayla with disgust as she approached her and trained her weapon once again on Kayla. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

Kayla complied and was crying out of confusion and out of grief. “We were in fuckin’ Queens! How the fuck did we end up in Manhattan at Bamboo 52? What the fuck is going on here?”

At that moment the purple haze subsided and disappeared. More uniformed cops entered Bamboo 52 and surveyed the fallen.

Tegan walked out with a cuffed Kayla, who was disoriented by this time.

4am, Washington DC:

Director Skinner took the agency helicopter to Manhattan as soon as she received the phone call at home about the shootout at Bamboo 52. She cursed aloud on the chopper, and was then overcome with grief as she thought of the deceased agents Helt and Molder. What the fuck went on, how did her agents get into shooting? And with each other?

Chapter 24

Director Skinner, in the back of an unmarked agency car manned by two FBI police officers, was busily typing on her laptop computer. She was sending a secured agency message to Special Agent Laura Scott, the agency’s top forensics expert, telling her to catch the next chopper to New York and more specifically, the crime scene. How the fuck can this be a crime scene and it’s all law enforcement personnel involved. Her first task would be to speak to Captain Davis at the Midtown North Precinct, the command that covered the confines of the crime scene. Her next task would be even more grim than the first. To speak with ex-Special Agent Skully, who was now confined in a Federal Corrections Facility in Fort Dix, New Jersey. Ex because she and her accomplices shot and killed five uniformed police officers and a fellow FBI Special Agent. Then, off to see Agent Tegan, who was admitted to New York University Hospital for a gunshot wound to the right shoulder. Sergeant Seti had been just as quick as Tegan, but not as accurate.

Skinner cursed to herself quietly as she caught sight of a large contingent of reporters and photographers in the parking lot of the precinct. Captain James Davis was at a podium nodding his head. Good, Chloe thought. He’s not telling the vultures shit. Not that any of us know shit right now anyway.

“Madam Director, we’re going to have to through the front if you don’t mind.” the cop driving said.

Skinner smiled at the cop. “We’ll do whatever you think is best, Officer.”

“Roger that, ma’am.”

Skinner was about to leave the vehicle as they got to the front when the cop in the passenger seat said, “Madam Director, would you like me to accompany you? NYPD is going to be hostile territory for us. Considering, well, you know ma’am.”

“Well, we lost officers in that operation as well. I appreciate the gesture, though. I need to get this over with so that we can move forward and find out what happened tonight. I’ll be right out, hopefully in one piece.”

“Yes ma’am. Holler if you need us.”

Skinner smiled at them and turned to walk into the precinct. An NYPD cop standing outside was about to open the door for her, but when he saw who she was, he let the door go, smirked and turned his back. His partner, standing beside him, walked away.

“I’m not going to ask you open the door for me, officer. You’re a cop, not a doorman. But if you don’t turn around and address me with the proper courtesy, I’ll have your gun and shield and mount it on my mantle at FBI Headquarters. I’m aware that you lost people, I lost people too. Don’t fuckin’ play with me.”

Upon seeing Director Skinner having words with the city cop, The two FBI officers got out of the vehicle. Chloe put her hand up as if to say “It’s okay.” The city cop saw the two FBI cops and turned around to address Director Skinner. “Good evening, ma’am,” he said and opened the door.

The Chief of Police, Miguel Olivera, was standing by the Desk Sergeant’s podium. Upon seeing Skinner, he straightened up and said, “Madam Director. It is unfortunate that we could not meet under different circumstances.” He extended his hand in greeting.

A political man indeed, Skinner thought. Chloe took his hand. “Chloe, Chief. And you are?”

Chief Olivera smiled slightly. “Miguel.”

“Miguel. What we have here is a tragic situation. I would like us to work together to get to the bottom of this.”

“Of course.” the Chief said. “I’ll let Cpt Davis know that you’re here.”

“Thanks Miguel.” Chloe was about to sit on the nearby bench when Chief Olivera stopped her.

“No, don’t sit there ma’am. That’s the ‘perp chair!’ I’ll let you into Cpt Davis’ office.

“Thanks, Miguel.”

Cops in the precinct were nervously trying to look even busier than normal, even though they were as they saw the Chief walking with the FBI Director.

Skinner sat in the chair that was directly in front of Captain Davis’ desk. I wonder how many cops he chewed out while they sat in this chair? Better this chair than the crackhead chair. As soon as she though ‘crackhead,’ she began to weep quietly.

Five minutes later, Captain Davis walked in. “Hello Madam Director. We’ve got a mess on our hands.”

“Hello Captain Davis. Right you are.”

“Do you want to head to the crime scene now? Forensics just left there and I’ve got some uniforms posted.”

“Yes, let’s go. Would you like to ride in my vehicle?”

“I’ve got one ma’am and a uniform too. I never go withou them.”

“I’ll follow you then.”

They got to Bamboo 52 in five minutes. The cop standing at the front saluted and raised the yellow crime scene tape. The lights were on and the sushi bar was in shambles. There were tape outlines of the dead on the floor, spent shell casings that were marked by different colored flags so as to determine which round originated from which firearm. Broken tables, chairs, plates, and glass was everywhere. Blood still stained the walls and floors.

Davis and Skinner surveyed the area together, not out of camraderie, but of common mistrust that the FBI and NYPD famously held for one another.

“The two agents and the Sheriff fired at the front door from here.” Davis said pointing at the center of the room. Why they weren’t behind cover is beyond me. They began to fire upon the ESU and FBI officers entering through the front door and into the bar area.”

“Didn’t cops enter through the rear door as well?” Skinner asked.

“Strange thing, though. When they attempted to enter through the the kitchen door behind the agents and the sheriff, they couldn’t get the door open. It then took an additional minute and a half and by the time the unit bringing up the rear enetered, the agent in question was already handcuffed.”

Skinner walked pensively towards the rear of the sushi bar and into the door that led into the kitchen. “This door swings both ways. There’s no signs of soldering or welding, only burn marks from where you guys used a blow torch to remove the hinges. Who the fuck put this door back up?”

Davis shuddered at Skinner’s harsh, yet inquisitive tone. “The owner had someone come in about a half hour after the incident.

“What the fuck for? Are you guys fuckin’ slow? I want to talk to the dumb ass who authorized it. You had a fuckin’ civilian walk right up to the crime scene?!? Why don’t you guys call motherfuckin’ Bob Villa to fix the whole fuckin’ sushi bar?”

“It’s ESU policy to have repaired whatever they destroy.”

“Why so soon after the shooting?” Skinner was losing her temper. “Cops died here! Yours and mine! And you fuckin’ idiots are worried about a fuckin’ door? Who authorized this shit?”

“Sergeant Catherine Cedeno, Emergency Service Unit.”

“Stupid bitch!”

Davis was slack-jawed. “Ma’am!”

“Cops died here, Captain Davis. I want to talk to this Sgt Cedeno yesterday.”

Cpt Davis was already dialing his cell phone.

“Tell the dumb ass bitch that I want to see her in your office in one hour, no more! My guys and me are getting fuckin’ breakfast.”

Chief Olivera and Director Skinner stormed into Cpt Davis’ office three hours later. Cpt Davis and Sgt Cedeno stood up nervously. Upon seeing the Chief of Police, Captain Davis looked to the floor and wrinled his face as if someone had kicked him in the testicles. Sergeant Catherine Cedeno was a pretty young Latina cop, yet she had eyes that seemed shifty and untrustworthy, as if she stepped on people to get her rank. She looked disheveled after being made to wait two hours to get the ass chewing of her life.

Skinner stepped right up to her and removed her glasses as if she was going to fight Cedeno. “This your first gun battle, dumb ass?”

“No ma’am. As an ESU Sergeant, I’ve been involved in several.” Cedeno said shakily.

“Then what the fuck made you spaz out and let a fuckin’ no-name civilian walk right through a fuckin’ crime scene? If you didn’t have those stripes, I’d say that you were a rookie. Fuck, even a fuckin’ rookie is thinking too much and wouldn’t make such an asinine mistake as that. Why don’t you just call and get the fuckin’ whole building renovated?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cedeno sounded as if she wanted to cry. Chief Olivera was trying hard to suppress a laugh.

I want to know who the fuckin’ owner is and who the fuck this ass-clown was who fixed that fuckin’ door and tampered with our evidence. Can you do that Cedeno or is that too much for even you?”

“I’ll handle it, ma’am.”

“Yeah fuckin’ handle it. Do you have anything that you want to say to your cop, Chief Olivera?”

“Nothing that I wouldn’t have told her myself.” said the Chief grimly.

Skinner never took her eyes off of Cedeno. Cedeno nervously said, “I’ll get you that info ASAP, ma’am.”

“Do it faster than that. What the fuck are you still standing here looking stupid for? I’m fuckin’ through and so are your bosses. Get the fuck out of my site!”

Cedeno almost ran out of the office and bumped into the office door before opening it and letting herself out.

“Hard to find good help nowadays, huh?” Skinner asked Olivera.

“Fuck yeah. Nobody wants to start off at the cheap salary we get.”

Cpt Davis was also enraged at Cedeno, but now pitied her and the downward spiral her career will take when the smoke clears and Skinner was through with her.

Skinner of course did not have any say in NYPD business, but it was a huge blow to have the FBI Director chew out one of the ESU Sergeants in the precinct commander’s office. Cedeno would find herself working traffic detail for the next two years even though she was an ESU Sergeant. She would also be facing a demotion and transfer from the elite ESU to a less than glamorous foot post in the South Bronx.

Chapter 26

ADX Florence, Florence Colorado – Maximum Federal Correctional Facility:

Skinner was on the agency helicopter again via Fort Dix, New Jersey when she received a call reporting that Skully had been transferred to ADX Florence. She quickly had the chopper refueled in Dix and re-routed to Florence.

Only two hours after ripping Sergeant Cedeno a new asshole, Skinner was walking through the intimidating gates of ADX Florence, the same facility that Timothy McVeigh, the Oklahoma bomber, had been executed in June 2001. The reality that Kayla would be facing the death penalty for the murder of five uniformed cops and an FBI agent was like a cold slap of reality. Not only did she mourn Special Agent Helt and Special Agent Molder’s deaths, she would soon possibly be mourning Kayla’s as well.

At the main door of the facility, Skinner was met by Warden Melvin Roberts, nicknamed “Mega Toes” and “Bigfoot” because of his size 15 shoe. We found him Rich, Chloe thought to herself. Roberts seemed to have the same shifty eyes that Sergeant Cedeno did. As if he liked to look at the closed caption TV of female prisoners’ cells and masturbate. Skinner immediately felt like scrubbing her hands after shaking hands with Roberts. After the brief meeting, Skinner was accompanied by a Bureau of Prisons officer, an imposing hulk of a man, as expected. The hulk peered through a slot on Kayla’s cell door to make sure she was away from the door.

“Skully! You have a visitor! Step away from the door.”

Skully was doing pushups and stepped to the wall on the extreme opposite of the cell door. She was still extremely attractive in her orange prison jumpsuit and no makeup. Chloe was angry at herself for being stimulated for a second.

Skinner walked in and waited for the officer to close the door. She then ran over to Kayla and hugged her. Then she broke the hug and slapped her.

Warden Roberts looked intently at the monitor in his office showing Skully’s cell. He then smiled, rubbed his crotch and unbuckled his belt.

“What the fuck happened last night, Skully? Why the fuck were you, Molder and Seti firing on cops and Helt and Tegan?”

“I have no fuckin’ idea. I’ll tell you everything I know.” She took Skinner’s hand and they both walked toward Kayla’s bunk and sat down.

Skully recanted all the information that she obtained from Mr A, SK9 Satanism and the strange purple haze. Skinner also shared all the information that Helt and Tegan gave her.

“According to all the SK9 edicts that purple haze is a nexion. A gate to the Acausal Darkness. Somebody or something set us up to get into that shootout with each other. It’s because we were getting close to finding out. The key to this is SK9. No arrests either. Just fuckin’ waste them.”

“I can’t believe that I’m hearing about the paranormal from you.” Skinner said.

“Then you know that shit is beyond fuckin’ reason. Just keep in mind what those other agents told you Chloe. And we don’t even know each other. Tell me something. Did Rich make it? How about James?”

“Sorry Kayla. They’re gone.”

Tears stung Kayla’s cheeks as she screamed, “Get these motherfuckers, Chloe! I don’t give a fuck! You’ve got to get them! Especially that motherfucker Mr A!”

“This case is mine now. Fuck protocol.”

They hugged once again and Chloe walked towards the door and knocked on it. The Hulk then peered in and opened the door.

Roberts looked away from the monitor in disgust. Skinner didn’t stay long enough for him to finish pleasuring himself. He put his pants on and buckled his belt. He walked out of his office and prepared to see Director Skinner off.

Fifteen minutes, with the Hulk in tow, Skinner prepared to exit the facility.

“It was good to meet you Madam Director.” Roberts extended his hand.

“Fuck off. I’ll be back when Skully gets released.” Skinner walked out as the Hulk suppressed a snicker.

Mr A walked by the two NYPD cops stationed outside of Agent Tegan’s hospital room. He made no eye contact, but the two cops watched him suspiciously. Mr A walked to the elevator bank. One of the cops knocked on the door and walked into Tegan’s room while other cop watched as Mr A boarded the elevator.

“She’s gone!” said the cop running out of Tegan’s room.

They both ran to the elevator bank. One shoved his arms into the elevator before the doors closed. They tackled a surprised Mr A after he pressed the “Close Door” button.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Mr A demanded as he was being cuffed.

“Where’s Agent Tegan, you fuck?”

Skinner was headed back to New York in the helicopter. She knew that it would’ve made more sense to have visited Tegan at NYU Hospital in Manhattan before heading out to Colorado, but she wanted to know what happened from Kayla’s perspective. She had a strong feeling that Kayla was telling the truth, but strong feelings about innocence did not spare anyone from the death penalty. Where the fuck do I start with this Mr A? Chloe would have to get Kayla’s computer and run a trace. The satellite phone rang.

“Skinner!” Chloe yelled into the phone over the propellers.

“Madam Director, it’s Special Agent Scott. I found something at the coroner’s!”

“What you got, Laura?”

“I went to the sushi bar and everything was pretty much cut-and-dry. Then I attended the formal autopsy and I acquired and categorized all the spent rounds. There was an extra round that was lodged in the base of Special Agent Helt’s skull. As if he was shot execution-style. The round that was discharged didn’t belong to any of the weapons fired by Skully, Molder or the sheriff. The round belonged to Agent Tegan’s gun.”

Skinner dropped the phone on the floor of the helicopter.

Detective Frank Valle, Special Agent Molder’s NYPD connection, walked into the Interview Room and eyed Mr A seated at the table, who was smiling at him. Valle returned the smile.

“Cigarette?” Valle offered.

“Thank you.” Mr A said.

“Smoke this asshole!” Valle reached over the table, grabbed Mr A and punched him repeatedly in the face.

Captain Davis and Detective Tim O’Brien, watching the interview from behind the one way glass wall in the other room, ran into the Interview Room.

They practically peeled Valle off of Mr A. Mr A was laying on the floor bleeding and unconscious.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Valle?” Davis demanded.

Valle pulled free and managed a stomp on Mr A’s chest and sidestepped Davis and O’Brien as they tried to restrain him again.

Valle ran over to the door, punched it and yelled, “He might not have killed Richie, but the motherfucker has shit to do with it! They’re fuckin’ playing with us! I don’t fuckin’ play! You hear me faggot? I don’t fuckin’ play!”

He then sat on the floor and sobbed.

O’Brien grabbed Valle by the shoulders. C’mon Frankie. Get it together. Let’s get a bagel.”

Valle rose to his feet and walked out with O’Brien. Cpt Davis looked at a bleeding and still unconscious Mr A and snickered. He then walked into the Observation Room and ejected the videocassette from the monitor.

“Listen Frankie.” O’Brien said. “You can’t go off on a tangent like that. Fuckin’ boss man was watching. Keep it up and you’ll end up with time on the streets. Why do you give a fuck about that fed anyway?”

“That fed was my old partner at the 110th before going over to the feds. That motherfucker pulled my ass out of the fire a few times. Like I did for you and that problem that you got with hookers.” Valle smiled.

“Okay, I get it. Cap is all right. He knows that you wouldn’t fuck with anybody for nothing. You won’t get jammed up, but still, be careful. Those fed cops picked up that guy in the hospital on a hunch, nothing but. Don’t read too much into it.”

“I read the whole fuckin’ thing, even the feds’ shit. That asshole led the two agents into a shootout with Rich and his people. That fucker isn’t leaving the stationhouse for shit for at least another fuckin’ night. Not until the Director sees him.”

“That sexy boss lady with the glasses? I wish she came to see me.” O’Brien smiled.

“She’s way out of your league. Besides, it’s all business now until these fuckers get fried.”

“So, Frankie. Tell me: How’d you get access to the FBI’s files?”

“Need to know basis. And you don’t need to know.”

As soon as Chloe retrieved the phone from the chopper floor, she found that Laura got disconnected. Now, she had another reason to see Angelina in the hospital.

The phone rang again. “Skinner.”

“Ma’am, we got Mr A here at the house.” It was Captain Davis.

“James! Keep him there!”

“I was going to. Agent Tegan’s gone missing too.”

“Fuck! when?”

“Twenty minutes ago.”

“I’ll be at the house in about an hour.”

“See you then.” Davis hung up.

“You didn’t tell them anything, did you Cathy?”

“No.” Cathy stammered. She looked across the desk at the fresh-faced young woman staring at her with piercing brown eyes.

“Good.” said Tegan. “The Master will be pleased.”

“Have I completed my ordeals? Am I now a Sister?”

Tegan looked at Cathy angrily. “If you have to ask, then you aren’t!”

Cathy put her head down with embarassment.

“There is one thing that you might be good for.” Tegan smiled.

“Yes?” Cathy felt reassured.

“Yes. Come with me.”

Outside of Tegan’s large study, the Temple Guardian grabbed Cathy from behind.

“What…what are you doing?”

Tegan slapped her. “You have no loyalty. You have a weak spine! We of 352 are one of the many Sinister Tribes who revel in Sinister Darkness and to Presence the Dark. You have no place but for this.”

The large Guardian ripped Cathy’s uniform pants and threw her duty belt on the ground. He then mounted Cathy and began to enter her with his large member.

“Nooo!” Cathy screamed.

Chloe stared at Mr A. Then she reached across the table and slapped him. He whimpered in pain.

“Im…tired…of all you…cops…hitting…me.” Mr A stammered. “I’ll tell…you anything…you want to know.”

Chloe slapped him again for good measure. “I want to start from the beginning. What the fuck happened in that cabin outside of Eureka City?”

“Old George. George Waller was dying. He is a 352 Brother and the Founder of SK9. Better known as 352.”

“Yeah. An Order of Nine Angles Nexus. I got that far. Go on asshole.” Chloe raised her arm again.

“No, no! He performed the Rite of Hohes Opfer because he wanted his wife and sons to be with him in the Cosmos.”

“Who the fuck was the other vic with the missing skin?”

“He was a traitor. He wanted to leave 352 because he was scared. He found that the Darkness was real and he couldn’t psychologically handle it. George and his family opfered him first. Then they peeled off all his tattoos that referred to 352, SK9 or the Order.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

Mr A laughed. “My daughter has infiltrated the greatest law enforcement agency in the land. I am Anthony Tegan.”

Chloe restrained herself from hitting him again. Her next strike would be to kill him.”

“Why did you target the FBI?”

“Our Sinister Intent is to sow the seeds of disruption and Chaos. The Purple Haze is the Nexion at its lowest strength. Once it reaches full stregth…” The elder Tegan laughed maniacally.

Chloe reached across the table and punched in the face so hard that her hand hurt. She jumped over the table and knelt over Tegan.

“Homo…Galactica.” Tegan smiled. “My Angelina…” Tegan passed out.

Chapter 27

Kayla had one hour a day of general population. She was actually given the option to reject general pop since she was a ex-FBI agent, but she opted for it just to see other people for an hour, to escape the isolation.

An attractive Latina prisoner with a white bandana eyed her. She then smiled and approached Kayla. Kayla was apprehensive at first because a white bandana was considered 352, but 352 was such an anomaly at this point. No membership numbers, no arrests, no nothing. Just that Eureka City incident.

“Got a cigarette, beautiful lady?” the Latina asked.

“Sure.” Kayla reached into her shirt pocket. As she looked down, the last thing that she saw was the makeshift shank going in and out of her chest with blinding speed. The Latina then whispered hoarsely into Kayla’s ear, “352.”

The latina walked away as Kayla collapsed on the ground, The Latina then passed the shank to a passerby who walked a few steps and passed it to another, who in turn, passed it to another.

Kayla looked straight into the sky. Kayla thought of all the people that she ever loved and who reciprocated that love. She thought of Molder and Seti and Chloe. Kayla tried to smile. She knew that Chloe had things all worked out. Kayla took her last breath.

Anthony felt like he was drowning…and being scalded at the same time. Skinner had doused him with a cup of coffee.

Detective Valle then grabbed Tegan and threw him back in the chair. “Stay awhile. Our chat’s not over yet.”

“I already know that the current location of your Temple is in Forest Park in Queens. Write down the coordinates and the next meeting time here. If they’re incorrect, I’ll kill you.” Skinner slid a piece of paper and pen in front of Anthony.

Valle opened his mouth in shock and then smiled. This fed’s all right. And so fuckin’ hot, he thought.

Anthony hesitated and then wrote on the paper.

Chloe snatched the paper from him. “That’s in three hours. Hey Valle, you got some guys in place?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Now, Anthony, how the fuck did Sergeant Seti end up in Malta?”

“The Nexion in Malta is Stilla Ta Demm. I don’t control the Presencing of the Dark. My Sisters, Brothers and I only help to ensure of its occurence.”

“How the fuck did you know to send my agents to Bamboo 52?”

“The Darkness that makes itself known to me. Then it stops. That’s how the cops grabbed me at NYU Hospital.”

“How’d Angelina escape?”

“The Dark workings enabled her. The purple haze, the Gates, of course.”

“The cops didn’t report no fuckin’ purple haze.” Valle added.

“It most likely converged on her when she was in the bathroom.”

A uniform knocked on the door. Valle said a brief word to him and left. The uniform took Anthony and went out the back door. Chloe followed. The cop then dispatched Anthony into the backseat of a familiar Ford Crown Victoria.

Skinner and Valle rented a storage locker in College Point Queens with a “borrowed” credit card from the evidence locker. Inside the unit, they left the hancuffs on Anthony and duct-taped his feet.

Chloe knelt over to Anthony and said, “Don’t try to struggle or make any noise. Once this door closes, you’ve got about 3 hours of air. If you want all 3 hours, try not to exert yourself. If all goes well at the Temple, then we’ll come back for you. If we die, then you die. Got it?”

“Okay.” Anthony said weakly.

Chloe then duct-taped his mouth. She then nodded towards Valle and they left and locked the storage unit.

“How’d you know about how much oxygen he had? Some high speed FBI gadget, ma’am?” Valle asked.

Chloe smiled. “I saw it in a movie once.”

Twenty minutes later, they met with Detectives O’Brien, Newman and Martinez in the parking lot near the band shell in Forest Park.

Chloe addressed her compatriots. “I appreciate your help. This is strictly off the record and under the radar. There’s going to be no medals in this for any of us. Just payback for those fallen cops and agents. Everybody’s got the coordinates and I’ll take the point. Once we get to the Temple, we’ll disperse and then go as planned. Save the Temple Mistress for me. In the trunk, just grab whichever toy you want to play with.”

Chloe opened the trunk and presented more borrowed items from evidence. Newman grabbed the sawed off shotgun, O’Brien took the M16A2 and Matinez grabbed the uzi machine gun. Chloe had an M1 while Valle grabbed another uzi and a .45. Then she closed the trunk and the five descended into the wooded area.”

Ten minutes later, they spotted a group of fifteen people in black hooded robes gathered in a clearing and seemed to be listening to a woman dressed in a scarlet robe. The Temple Guardian stood nearby, also with a black robe on.

“Remember, the lady in red’s all mine. Everybody else gets heavy metal. Take your positions, count to five and shoot these pieces of shit.”

The four others dispersed behind the covering of the trees. Five seconds later, the woods brought death.

It was all simultaneous. The five stepped out of the trees firing in what appeared to be a straight line. All purposely avoiding the Mistress, who was too shocked to even react at this point. Could it be that she never expected anyone else to use Sinister Strategy?

Black robes were falling everywhere. The Temple Guardian pulled out a .38 from beneath his robe but was not quick enough. The one called Martinez cut him down with the uzi. Bodies of the congregation were strewn everywhere.

Tegan stood and looked in shock and awe at the five who had just massacred her Brothers and Sisters. In the darkness, she made out Skinner, who seemed to be walking toward her in slow motion. Tegan put her hands up. When Skinner was close enough to get a clear shot, she deliberately shot Tegan in the right leg.

“Put your fuckin’ hands down. Don’t worry, I’m not taking you in.”

Chapter 28

An hour later, Skinner and Valle arrived at the storage facility with the wounded cuffed and bound in duct tape Tegan in tow. Chloe opened the storage unit turned on the light. She went over to the elder Tegan and ripped the duct tape from his mouth. Tegan opened his eyes and moaned weakly in pain.

Then, Chloe’s phone rang.

“Skinner.” It was Warden Roberts.

“Yeah. Okay.” Chloe began to cry. Valle went inside the storage unit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Some fuckin’ con just shanked Kayla. Let’s waste them.

“I’m sorry. Yeah, yeah.” He dragged the younger Tegan into the storage unit. Anthony looked at her.

“I love you, my Angelina.”

Angelina wept as she looked at her father. Chloe ripped the tape off her mouth.

Valle positioned them on their stomachs.

“No, no!” cried Angelina.

“Ready?” asked Skinner.

“Ready.” answered Valle.

Skinner shot the elder Tegan in the base of the skull while Valle shot his daughter also in the base of her skull. Then they switched places and shot again.

They stepped out of the storage unit and locked it. Chloe wiped the keys clean on her shirt and threw them into the shrubs nearby. Valle put his arm around her and they walked to the car.

Mnajdra:

The Stilla Ta Demm Nexion were gathered and watched in awe the purple haze that seemed to engulf them. Suddenly, the haze was gone and the congregation looked around confused. Then all felt a sense of loss. Some openly wept.

The Temple Master removed his hood. Colonel Frata wiped the stinging tears from his cheeks.

Fini

Florida. April 30th, 161 yf.

Kayla.

We drove down to the old dilapidated structure where we parked our truck. Richard had relocated there 12 years ago from New York when he retired from the force to get a way from the big city. It had been a while since we were in the area.

” Seems like only yesterday… “

I smiled in response to Chloe’s reflections. Just looked at her. I couldn’t believe were were sixty or something. I still loved her:

” Help me with her Lamar… David. “

My son David and his father pulled out the old woman from the back of the truck. My husband Lamar still had gusto in him after all these years. She had a sack around her head… we put her in a white wedding gown.

Richard was patiently waiting inside on his wheel chair. I noticed he had a nervous look on his face… clutching a black box and looking into my eyes for reassurance:

” You’re 70 something Rich… Time to go…”

” Yeah, I know… It’s just hard… the feelings… after all those years on the force. “

Chloe nodded and gave the old bastard a final shoulder massage:

” Don’t think about it… it was just a job… just do it… you were working for the 10 percenters. “

” Here, I brought you your last bagel. ” Lamar chuckles to himself as he hands a bag to Richard.

” Who is she? ” Richard heard the old lady whimper and cry. I was afraid of this. Chloe and I looked at each other, knowing inside he knew.

” Richard…” Chloe was still massaging, ” You don’t even know her any more… she made the best years of your life miserable. “

I looked at him for a moment, then went to the truck to get things to prepare the place.

Chloe.

“Did I miss the party?!?”

It was Cathy. The old hag was always late for shit.

“Cat! Shhh, you wanna get us busted?”

“There isn’t another building around here for the next 20 miles honey, besides…”

She pulls out her gun. Cathy never goes anywhere without it.

Kayla left to give her a hug. Last time she saw Cat was 7 years ago when we were in Malta, helping Frank preform his Hohes Opfer. He’s floating somewhere in the stars now.

She gave Rich a kiss on the forehead, and kissed me looking into my eyes.

“Sorry I’m late sweety, I thought somebody was following me so I took a detour. So fucking hard to drive around here with no street or lights,” She looks over to the lady on the ground and gives her a kick, “Doing O.K Dee?”

She frustrates me sometimes, it’s like she can’t feel the atmosphere:

“Jesus Cat, please,” I kinked my head towards Rich with that look trying to get her to get the drift.

“Oh… yeah, I’ll go help Kayla get ready.”

“It’s a nice day for a white wedding…”

David was singing some ancient song by Billy Idol called White Wedding and snickers with Cat. His mom squints her eyes at him and slaps him across the head:

“Dig!”

Kayla was setting things up around the barn. She’s been awful quite lately thinking about Rich.

“Still remember the longs talks you and Kayla had Rich?”

He smiled, “Yeah… I’ll wait for you two; school… yeah,”

“I’ll be a cheerleader, Kayla’s best friend. You can have her in the next life…sloppy seconds. Hopefully you won’t be a nerd, or she’s not gunna give you the time of day.”

He laughs, “Stuck up bitch. Always was. We’ve come a long way huh? Built a small empire. Good game.”

“Yeah. Game over for you.”

I looked at him as I knelt beside him looking at his black box:

“Can I see it?”

Richard unlocks the box with his old hands and pulls out black satin and unwraps it. The Obsidian Blade was shaking in his nervous hands:

“Moose horn. Me and Cat went to Alaska when we were still young. Younger at least. Had a hell of a hard time trying to kill the thing with my home made bow and arrow. Of course Cat gets impatient after the 4th day. She pulls out the fuckin’ nine she was hiding and shoots the damn thing 6 times!”

I was admiring the sharpness of the shiny black blade while he was laughing and reflecting. I don’t even think I was paying any attention to him. I saw Frank’s face in the blade as he was gasping for his last breath.

It’s indescribable to see a man die in front of your eyes. One moment he’s there talking to you, and the next he’s lifeless. You realize standing there over the empty shell that something that was once there, left.

I cried. Knowing that I’ll see that scene again, and watch the blood of an old beloved friend soak the ground.

Convergence

Chapter I.

Chris  looked at the computer screen with satisfaction. He looked over his “infernal mandate.” Users were in general agreement of the new edicts that the High Priest of the “Black Light” e-church had put forth.

“Hail Satan!” High Priest Infernus/Chris said.  The Black Light Church was a site that Chris bought and paid for only 6 months ago but it already had almost 600 members. At least 140 were still active.

High Priest Infernus in the real world is a successful 27 year-old structural engineer making $85,000 a year. Yet on the unsuccessful side, Chris Mulder lived with his mother Nancy, a retired registered nurse, in a large 1 and 1/2 acre home in East Hills, Long Island. Nancy, at age 66 longed for her only son to give her a grandchild, but Chris being overweight, balding, and ornery had much difficulty finding a girlfriend. In fact, Chris lost his virginity at a whorehouse in Queens when he was 19.

Chris’ “headquarters” was the large basement of his mother’s large home.  The wide stairs led to a foyer area which housed a washing machine and dryer on the right. To the left was a half bath which was moldy due to Chris’ neglect. Straight ahead was the large rumpus room/bedroom that Chris spent the majority of his time in. The room contained an expansive flat screen television with 3 of the latest videogame consoles connected to it, over 400 video games, a cable box, with DVD’s,  and CD’s on surrounding shelves. In front of the TV, etc. was a plastic covered green love seat which was used mostly for Chris’ self-love while watching an expansive porn collection featuring thespians named John Long, Janet Jacme, and Vanessa Del Rio.

 Across the room was a pool table and large stocked tiki bar although Chris rarely had company. Next to the bar was a refrigerator stocked with imported beer and wine coolers, soda and frozen quesadillas and burritos. An expensive microwave and blender sat on a card table next to the fridge.  

In the corner was the epicenter of the High Priest: the computer, where Chris preached to the internet masses the philosophy of Satanism, which was basically atheism with a sinister label. Chris used a picture of a long retired wrestler named Dark Thorn, a six foot 5 , 300 lb behemoth who wore an open black robe to display six-pack abs whose face was covered. Chris’ internet congregation, many of whom were wrestling fans, failed to see through Chris’ “lesser magick” and believed that they were members of a church presided by a menacing hulk.

On the shelf above the keyboard was the High Priest’s Satanic library consisting of the Satanic Bible, the Al-Jilwah, various Friedrich Nietzsche and Ayn Rand novels, Aleister Crowley books and numerous others which were of the Theistic variety.

After writing the newest edicts of the Black Light Church, Chris celebrated by ordering Chinese food.

Chapter II.

Four miles northeast of  Chris’ house in a wooded area, a sea of people wearing black robes were gathered in a clearing.

“Torezodu, zacara, od zameranu asapeta sibesi butamona, dasa surezodasa tia baletanu. Odo cicale qaa: od ozodazodama pelapeli iadanamada.”  They said in unison.

Shawna looked to Eric, the Initiate. Eric was also wearing a black robe and kneeling in front of Trisha,who was laying on her back naked except for a black satin sheet which covered her from the bottom of her nipples to her knees. Trisha was laying on her back with a real human skull resting on her pubic area and two human bones crossed on top of her thighs. Eric’s head was reeling from the alcohol and he looked at Trisha with lust.  

Shawna said to Eric: “You will say: I, your name, and Motto, and repeat after me… In the presence of Satan, Baphomet, the Dark Gods, and these initiates of the White Star Acception of the Order of Nine Angles; do hereby and hereon, promise, and swear, pledge and declare that I well never, in any manner whatsoever, betray anything that shall take place in this Nexus or any nexus of the White Star Acception. I further promise and swear, that I will, to the best of my ability, remain faithful to this Order, and my brothers and sisters; that I shall work for the Acception; and that I shall not, in any manner, do aught that might bring disgrace or disrepute, hurt, harm, or danger, to any member hereof or to our Order generally.”

Eric repeated Shawna enthusiastically and in an almost military fashion.

“I promise and vow to live my life according to the Seven Fold Sinister Way of the Order of Nine Angles free and unlimited by concepts of right or wrong; free and unlimited by ethical passions and opinions, and free and unlimited by passions and convictions of taboos; without any regard for laws of religion and state for the rest of my life and that I will pass the Nine Angles Tradition of our Acception down unto my progeny.”

Eric repeated the Ehreneide precisely. Shawna smiled to herself. 

“I promise and vow to offer and devote my life, mind, heart, body, and soul, from hereon unto the end of eternity, to my sworn brothers and sisters and to all their physical, emotional, and worldly needs and service of our Acception as a sacrifice to the God of my being; as they have offered and devoted their life, mind, heart, body, and soul to all of my physical, emotional, and worldly needs and service.

“I promise and swear to dedicate and devote my life to the cause of the Acception and to pass this same devotion and dedication down to all of my future descendants and bloodline, not for my sake or ours, but for the sake of the unborn who shall come after we have long expired.

“I promise and vow to redouble my zeal for all my sworn brothers and sisters that are present and absent, to love them and their families as my own, to live for them and serve them, in return for the same affection, devotion, and service.

“I promise and swear to live by the law of Lex Talionis, the law of tooth and claw; an eye for an eye, a life for a life, and to do unto others as they do unto me and my sworn family.

“I promise to defend my sworn brothers and sisters and their private family from all harm. If harm should befall one of my sworn brothers or sisters or their loved ones, I do so vow to seek vengeance and retaliate and make an example out of the one who did the harming.

“I promise to work to keep the Family united as one single collective Tribe and Nation; never to cause disharmony or division within the Collective. To give my allegiance, obedience, devotion, fidelity, and loyalty, to my sworn Family known as WSA 352 and to nothing else. I revoke and nullify any pledge, promise, vow, and or allegiance I have made in the past to any nation, religion, political entity, and or organization; and should I take an oath of allegiance of any kind hereafter, that its shall have no binding power whatsoever and shall be automatically nullified.

 ”I promise to live in a collective and cooperative manner with my sworn Family. To share my possessions, and efforts, as these are returned to me. To always practice favoritism, mutual aid, and assistance for my own and to deny this to the uninitiated.”

Shawna laughed almost aloud as Eric repeated the Ehreneide perfectly. “Welcome Brother.”

A sea of black robes surrounded Eric and the altar, Trisha. Trisha carefully took the skull and bones and gave it to the Temple Guardian. She then discarded the black satin sheet and stood in front of Eric. She then put her arms around Eric while wrapping her left leg around Eric’s right, feeling his erection on her pubic area. Eric groaned with lust and forgot about the the twenty-something pairs of eyes that were fixed on them. He wanted Trisha for all of high school and now she was seemingly his.

Shawna watched as Eric almost threw Trisha to the ground and began to enter her. Trisha screamed with both ecstasy and pain because Eric shoved himself inside and was thrusting himself inside of her with reckless abandon. Shawna then ripped off her scarlet robe and squated near Eric. She then pulled Eric’s head into her vagina. Shortly thereafter, robes were being strewn.

 Chapter III.

 Nancy looked at Chris with disgust and pity almost simultaneously. It was 1:00 am and Chris was asleep in his computer chair. Empty beer bottles and Chinese food containers were strewn on the desk and floor. Chris’ pants were pulled down to his ankles and his hand was on his penis. Nancy debated whether or not to pull his pants up and throw a blanket over him. She decided against it and walked back up the stairs. As Nancy reached the top step, she felt her hot tears roll down her cheeks.

 At the same time, Eric opened his eyes. The damp, cold air made him shudder and he reached for the nearest black robe. It was difficult to see in the dark clearing but he could make out people lying naked sleeping everywhere. Eric began to become aroused again and looked for the nearest accommodating warm female body. He called into the darkness for Trisha and Shawna but they were gone. Eric started to feel around in the darkness and came upon a set of breasts. The owner of the breasts moaned softly. Eric began to feel his way down to her hips and felt female genitalia.

He gently caressed the lips until they got moist and then mounted the 352 Sister, then entered her. He did not have any idea who she was, but she was consenting. He felt her hot breath in his ear and the ecstasy of her vagina. Eric pulled out and spilled his seed. He then heard female laughter.

“What are you, 15 years old?” The Sister laughed.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” Eric yelled. He then got up and pulled her hair with both hands.

Suddenly, Eric felt a closed fist hit him in the right temple. Then Eric felt feet and closed fists striking him everywhere. He then felt someone knee him in the groin. Eric collapsed to the ground. The last thing he felt before losing consciousness was someone spitting in his face.

 Chapter IV.

Chris woke up suddenly with a headache from the Chinese food and beer. He looked down and noticed that his pants were around his ankles. He quickly pulled his pants up and logged his computer back on. After finding about 15 new responses to his new evil edicts, Chris felt proud of himself again.

Someone punched Eric in the back of the head hard. Eric looked around and saw nothing but darkness and that felt he was suffocating. “Fuck, they got a fuckin’ hood on me.” He thought. He also felt that his hands and feet were bound. “Oh fuck…”

The Guardian ripped off Eric’s hood. He then lifted Eric off of the clearing and Eric saw a mass of humanity in black robes once again staring at him, but for a different reason.

Shawna approached the bound Initiate. “No longer is this profane individual a Brother of the Acception. We will no longer speak of him and we will never acknowledge the actions taken upon this individual.”

Eric felt tears well up. “This is it. You fucked up. Just take it like a man and that’s that.” He nodded his head as if Shawna addressed him directly.

“You have forsaken the oath that you have taken and the penalty is death.”

The Guardian gave Shawna a package wrapped in satin. Shawna unwrapped a large black Obsidian blade with a black handle.

“Sister.” Shawna called out.

A small figure emerged from the congregation. She approached Eric and pulled back her hood, revealing a young pretty woman with red hair in her 20’s named Eileen. She looked at Eric with contempt. Eric was filled with horror for Eileen was the Sister he disrespected.

She took the blade from Shawna handle first and without a word plunged the blade into Eric’s chest.  Eric screamed and The Guardian grabbed him around the throat from behind and Eileen plunged the blade repeatedly into Eric’s chest. Eric writhed in pain from the repeated ripping of his flesh. Blood splattered on Eileen’s hair and face.

The Guardian let Eric go and the corpse plopped on the ground.

“What a fuckin’ waste.” Shawna said to herself as the Guardian lifted Eric’s body from the ground with little effort for proper disposal. “All that hard work that he did for nothing.” She thought as she remembered the ABC Rites and how his exploits put Queens on alert for possibly 12 different perpetrators for 7 different crimes. How small the 352 Nexus in New York was because no one is truly practical in the Septenary Way.  The true Satanist, being carried now by some semi pro ex-football player to be tossed in a hole in the ground somewhere in the hills.

“Stupid motherfucker.” Shawna spat and walked away and thought of adapting and overcoming in new labyrinths.

Chapter V.

Of course, the hulking figure used in Chris’ avatar attracted many women who took to private mailing Chris on his site. When it came down to women requesting a personal meeting, Chris would always find a way to avoid it, citing “personal reasons for the good of the Black Light.”  Mixed messages about Satanism dominated this website, for Chris talked about atheism, yet talked about serving the Dark Lord whenever it suited his purpose.

One person in particular piqued Chris’ interest. The female with the username “Jewel” seemed to be recruiting from his website to hers. Other top members were calling for her ban, but Chris insisted that it kept things interesting. Chris then followed a link accidentally left by Jewel and registered under the name “Black Reign.” 

The name of the site was O9A 352. “Hmm, Order of Nine Angles? Not very Satanic or anything.” thought Chris. “Just a lot of illegal shit.”

There were several people online. Chris didn’t see any of Levi’s Baphomets, just an almost quarter moon sigil and another of a woman holding a dismembered head. “That’s their Baphomet?”

His “Private Message” pop-up at the bottom right of the screen startled him. He laughed at his paranoia. “Who the fuck is this?” He asked himself.

“Welcome to the boards BR. How did you find us? –KMD”  The PM read.

Chris typed: “Hello. Just searching around the ‘net for a Traditional Satanist site to go to.”

“You’re at the right place for Traditional Satanism. The Seven-Fold Sinister Way is real Satanism.”

“I don’t know about that culling and burglarizing, though.” Chris replied.

“That’s real Satanism, the truth about Satanism. Not a politically correct, censored version of what passes for Satanism that’s presented on the internet today. That Satanism is fake.”

Shaken by all the site’s material that he just read and the message of KMD, Chris typed, “I will find my path elsewhere. Thank you for having me.”

KMD was already hacking and found out Chris’ personal information through unusual computer prowess using his IP address. “The pleasure was all ours. I  would advise you not to divulge the information that you read about here. This is a private forum used by the Acception.”

Chris was scared, but excited at the same time. This is the fuckin’ internet, I’m the High Priest of Satanism, the High Priest of all Satanism. What can these psychos possibly do to me? Besides, they’re probably all a bunch of Chess Club geeks or something. “Okay, I promise.” Chris typed back.

As Chris logged off, he thought of a new article on pseudo Satanism. At the same time, KMD logged off of O9A 352 and logged into The Church of Black Light as her pseudonym Jewels.  Chris had already started an article called “ONA and its Affiliates: Pseudo Satanism.” KMD then picked up her cell phone.

Eileen picked up the phone on the sixth ring. “What’s up Shawna?”

“Go on the ‘net and look up ‘Church of the Black Light.’ Then call me back. “

 Chapter VI.

Chris fell asleep after writing the new article on his site. He woke up startled by the doorbell. “Ma!” He yelled. “Ma, the door!” He looked at the wall clock and saw that it was 5:30. “Who the fuck can that be?” He strode up the stairs from his labyrinth. The door rang again. “Okay!” Chris yelled. He drew the curtain on the window adjacent to the front door. He saw an attractive red head with teased up curly hair black halter top, black leather miniskirt bare-legged with high heeled boots. “Wow, holy shit!” Chris thought as his heart started to race.

Eileen noticed the curtain move. She then feigned as if she dropped something and bent over facing away from the window. She wasn’t wearing panties. She then recovered and rang the bell again. Chris hurriedly opened the door. “Um, hi.” Chris said shakily. He gulped and felt as if was going to faint.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you. My stupid car broke down. Do you happen to know anything about cars?”

Chris tried to sound calm and indifferent. “A little bit. I’ll take a look.”

“Thanks. I’m like so drunk and stuff. Or something. I really need some help.”

Chris thought, “You definitely need something.” He stepped out and almost slammed the door behind him.

The hood on the black Chevy Astrovan with newly stolen license plates was open and double parked in front of Chris’ house. ”Holy shit!” Chris thought. “She drives a van! She probably has a mattress in the back! Be cool. Be cool. Chris asked “I’m Chris. What’s your name?”

“Chloe…Jones.” Eillen answered quickly. “Here’s a flashlight Chris. I’ll hold it for you.”

Chris said, “No need. I can already see that you have a loose distributor cap.” as he tightened it. “Go ahead and start it.” Chris closed the hood.

Eileen then climbed into the front seat. As she put her right leg inside, her skirt raised up, exposing a hairless pubic area. “You did it!” Eileen sqeauled. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any money or anything.” She licked her lips. “I can suck your cock.”

Chris became erect.”Um…yeah sure.” He stared at Eileen incredulously.

“Get in the back. I’ll pull over and park.”

Chris ran toward the side door he opened it and got in. Chris then felt something strike him on the top of the head. He crumpled onto the floor of the van. Eileen drove off casually.

Chapter VII.

The Guardian took off Chris’ hood. He then emptied a bucket of water on Chris’ face. Chris woke up gagging and heard the laughter of what seemed like a hundred people. The Guardian grabbed Chris by the collar and wrapped his arm around his throat. Chris was bound hand and foot.

He watched as the beautiful blonde woman known as Shawna walked towards him in her long flowing crimson robe.

She put her face close to his. Even in this moment of terror, Chris became erect with Shawna at such close proximity and her exotic scent, which smelled of an orange grove.

“Ave, High Priest. Be prepared to experience the genuine, primal darkness. You shall experience Satan.”

Chris then saw Eileen running toward them as Shawna walked back without turning around. Eileen wielded a black blade and raised it. She was getting ever closer. Chris screamed and closed his eyes.

Annointing

Chapter I.

Eric woke up in a cold sweat and immediately sat upright in bed. A loud knock on the door of his modest studio apartment in the rear of the old lady’s house in Bayside startled him.

“Elder Walter! Elder Walter!” yelled a voice outside his door.

“Oh shit!” exclaimed Eric. “Um….I’ll be right out Elder Dominick.”

“Okay. Take your time Elder Walter. But be quick about it. Um, did you just curse and stuff?”

Eric smiled and thought to himself momentarily. Who says that Jehovah’s Witnesses didn’t have a sense of humor? ”No Dom, I said “Praise the Lord!’”

He quickly dressed and met Dominick. It was February and quite possibly the last month of his Ordeal gaining insight as a hardcore conservative Christian, and who more conservative than a Jehovah’s Witness?  As Eric, or “Elder Walter” as he has been known for the past three months.

They took the downtown bus to nearby Auburndale and went house to house preaching the Word of God according to the JW’s to those few willing to entertain them.

It was simple enough to spot them. They wore plain black wool overcoats over white shirts, black ties, black slacks, and black shoes. They also had black name tags with white lettering displayed on the outside left side of their overcoats. A boy, no more than 13 years old riding a bike yelled at them, “Oh hell no!” and rode off. Eric had to suppress a giggle. Dominick looked straight ahead and pretended not to hear.

Eric thought about what he felt he learned from this experience and wrote it in an almost daily journal. He wrote that he felt a certain camraderie with his fellow “Elders” and actually felt disappointed with people who did not care to listen to the Word of God. He loved playing basketball and other sports with the Elders and the kind way that they seemed to treat each other. He felt himself almost believing that he, as a Jehovah’s Witness, was worthy enough to partake in the rite of the Last Supper, and not the pseudo-Christians. He loved those peaceful nights and the fellowship that arose from the Lord’s Work.

People weren’t too into Christian values in the Profane world anyway. Everyone is too concerned with paying their bills, worrying about money, the kids, etc. and possibly in that order. No one had anytime to live what they actually say that they believed in, Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism, whatever. JW’s brand of Christianity? Hell no! Jesus didn’t die on the cross, but on a torture stake? God forbid! The Armageddon was to be in 1975? Jehovah’s Witnesses have links to Adventism as the infamous Branch Davidians? It would probably be easier to infect people with the Progressive Satanism meme, joked Eric/Walter in his head.

Eric felt that it was time to travel to the other side of the spectrum. He learned all that he could, that this lifestyle was not a natural state. This was a reaction to the Profane world that humans had created in an attempt to figure out the Cosmos and themselves. It was also a means of manipulation, using others to spread this religion, this Word of God.

After the day of preaching, Eric played his last game of basketball at the church gym. He ate an after game dinner with them and hugged Dominick, who was puzzled but accepted it. He went back to the studio and packed the few things that he brought. He entitled today’s journal as “Fini.”

Chapter II.

Frank picked up the receiver. “Hello Brother Eric? What’s up?”

“I need some work, my Brother. You got anything?” Eric was calling from a payphone with his sparse belongings in a knapsack. He was still dressed like a JW preacher minus the name tag. He took the bus from Bayside to downtown Flushing, the site of the bank job four months ago.

“Of course! Anything for my Brother!”

Frank was the local “businessman” who acted as the middleman between a crack distributor and small arms seller and local gangs. Of course, Frank had no qualms about selling to rival gangs because Frank liked to say, “No matter if you red or blue, green is the only true.”  He had connections to the Bloods, Crips, Latin Kings, MS13, the Tongs, and the last of the Italian mafia. Especially with the Don himself, Anthony DiGiovanni. Yet, that was neither here nor there because DiGiovanni’s uzi has seen more men than a Roosevelt Avenue whore. Virtually untraceable back to Frank or Eric unless Don liked to open weapons up and check their serial numbers like the military or the police department did. Weapons were more dispensible than the manpower that wielded them.

Frank also supplied weapons to the Acception free of charge or at low cost because of  his fascination with Progressive Satanism and most importantly, his fascination with Shawna.

“Come by my place. I’m no plans tonight Brother!”

Eric chuckled to himself. Frank was a great guy, but brutal when the time came. “Thanks. I’ll be there in about 20 minutes?”

“Yes. Bye Brother.” Frank tapped the head of the woman who was performing fellatio on him. I have to make this quick my sweet.” He picked the woman up, bent her over and entered her.

Eric stepped out of the taxi and entered Frank’s luxury building in the predominantly well-off Jewish area of Forest Hills. The doorman greeted him.

“Mr. Baldwin please.” Eric said.

“Of course, sir. He phoned in advance.”

Eric enetered the huge elevator and got off at the penthouse floor. As Eric approached Frank’s door, a woman, Mediterranean-looking with long brown hair and a hot pink tight dress and matching pumps was leaving. Eric turned to look at her and part of her dress rode up exposing her left buttock. No panties, as Eric suspected. Frank was at the door and hugged Eric.

“I’ve already got something for you. Transporting. Can you do?”

“Hell yeah.”

Within a week, Eric was transporting, dealing occasionally and using Frank’s cocaine. “Never get high on your own supply.” Frank would tell Eric. This still did not discourage eric from wanting to live the polar opposite of his life as a Jehovah’s Witness.

Chapter III.

St. Raphaels Church, Long Island City, NY 1997:  Father O’Neill approached the precocious 9-year-old boy lighting the candles. The church was empty.

“Eric. Sister Agnes says that you were disruptive in Sunday School again today. Is there a problem, son?”

“No Father. I didn’t mean to make her mad. I was just telling Brian something and she got mad.”

“She hit your hand with the ruler, Eric?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Step into the office.”

Dad’s gonna be mad again, Eric thought to himself. They walked through the dark labyrinth-like hallway to Father O’Neill’s office, which was sparsely furnished with an old flower love seat against the wall next to the door.

Father O’Neill slammed the door behind him. “Let me see your hand Eric.”

“I got nothing there Father. She hit me pretty good but there’s no mark or anything.”

Eric held out his hand and Father O’Neill grabbed it and put it against his crotch.

“No! what are you doing!” yelled a terrified Eric.

Father O’Neill pushed Eric to the flowery love seat. He began to unzip his pants.

Eric wanted to scream but started to cry instead.

Chapter IV.

 

2006: Eric and Jim were walking the service road of the Long Island Expressway drinking beers. They stopped by St. Raphael’s Church. Jim started to piss on the outer wall of the church and Eric giggled. Unexpectedly, a tear fell from Eric’s eye. He then started to piss on the wall. Then in a rage, he drank the remainder of his beer and threw the bottle on the front steps.

“Fuck you!”

“Dude, take it easy. If you want to do what you said, then you can’t be making a lot of noise.” Jim said, putting his hand on Eric’s shoulder. He reached into his inner coat pocket and handed Eric a spray can.

Eric sprayed in big letters, “Father O’Neill is a fuckin’ fag,” “666,” “Better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven.”

“Feel better?” Jim asked.

“Not much, but this’ll do for now.”

Two months later, a 10-year-old altar boy reported that Father O’Neill had sexually molested him. More victims came forward and claimed that Father O’Neill molested them too, dating as far back as 1982.

When Jim and Eric were watching the news, Jim turned to Eric and said, “Why don’t you say something?”

“The fuck for? My parents took that faggot’s word over their own son’s already and things fuckin’ went downhill from there.”

“Don’t you want to look for some closure or anything?”

“No, I want to chop his dick off and then kill him slowly and let them find him with his own dick in his mouth.”

I know that the shit that he did is beyond words, but you really have to move on with this, Eric.”

“Fuck you. That’s easy for you to say. You didn’t get fucked by a priest and have your parents believe the goddamn priest.” Eric tear again and started to leave Jim’s apartment.

“Don’t go, man! Let’s get some beers and talk about this. I’m sorry, you’re right. I don’t know shit. But don’t go off all pissed.”

“Let’s take a walk to the store then.” Eric said.

Chapter V.

Flushing Meadow Park was empty at 3:20 in the morning. Frank knew enough of the command at the 107th and 109th precincts to pay them off to slow down the patrols. Frank had business and took Eric with him. They drove slowly through the path in a black 1992 Nissan Sentra.

“This car is a piece of shit.” said Eric. “But I understand.”

“And don’t do no hits now either. This is business. After this I go to Cali to see my Sisters.”

“Why though? You’re doing good here in Queens. You run fuckin’ Queens.”

“As they say in Malta, you can’t milk the cow too much in a day.”

“They say that in Malta?”

“No, not really.”

The black Lincoln Town Car was already parked along the side of the path. Frank parked behind it and flashed his lights once and Don DiGiovanni stepped out of the Lincoln.

“Oh fuck! Not this fucker!” Eric thought to himself.

“You don’t have to do shit but stand there and don’t look too high, Brother. I’ll be right back.” Frank said as they stepped out of the Sentra to meet DiGiovanni and one of his henchmen.

DiGiovanni and Frank hugged and walked off to the right laughing. Eric sat on the Sentra and DiGiovanni’s employee sat on the Lincoln. They faced each other. ” Smoke?” asked DiGiovanni’s bodyguard.

“No thanks. I’m Eric.”

“Vincent.”

They sat there in silence.

Suddenly, Frank pulled out a 9mm and shot DiGiovanni in the back of the head.

“Oh shit!” Vincent dropped his cigarette and pulled out a 9mm of his own and started running towards Frank.

Feeling forgotten, Eric pulled out the .22 and tackled Vincent, who dropped his gun in the fall.

Frank was already there with his gun pointed at the back of Vincent’s head. “You do it Brother. I need to see that you’re loyal.”

Eric never shot anyone before but gently pushed Frank’s gun out of the way and shot Vincent three times at close range behind the back of the head without saying anything.

Instinctively, they ran to the Sentra and took off down the path and into the Van Wyck Expressway.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to shoot him, Frank?”

“I wasn’t going to. He made fun of my accent.”

“You still going to Cali?” Eric tried suppress a laugh. If the last Don of the Giambi Crime Family could get it, who the fuck was Eric?

“Yes. I think you should just go back to college or something. I drop you at Trisha’s.”

Frank let off Eric around the corner from Trisha’s apartment, Eric saw Shawna’s black Mercedes parked out front. Eric then turned back and took the 8-ball of coke out of his pocket. He then threw the contents into a trash can.

“I’m going to fuckin’ rehab.” Eric thought to himself and walked into the darkness. A stray dog howled nearby.