[the Mentalist, Big Bang fan-fic] Red Hair Black Heart - Chapter 6
[Porlogue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter two.Five] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five]
Chapter Six
Sihal Novarum Chinoth! Words like from nowhere fills the air, and in a blink she appears, in a cloud of light and sparkling glitters, a creature with long, purple-violet hair, that seems somehow real, not something fake, something come out from the 80s, and she smiles, not the same smile as Red John, but a smile of victory, almost telling the man she has him. Which probably she has, considered her next move, which, for an instant, makes him livid. Because, like she appeared, she disappears, but not alone, not any longer.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Megan is special, actually, she is twice special, twice blessed by Mother nature in a certain sense, and an instant was all she needed to take in her care the unconscious victim of the serial killer, the last part of the puzzle, the last fragment needed to complete the alchemic circle and open the gates of Hell.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Oh, smart, I like it. She looks like… a fairy? I’d say royalty, I think I smell Oberon’s magic on her. I like how you think, brother, I wasn’t expecting her here, I thought her kind was still secluded in Avalon…” Once again he stands, and snaps his fingers with a vigorous sound, incredible that it could come from such a small and apparently insignificant man, and as soon as he does it, the walls crushes down, and he walks, and keeps walking towards them, until he is so close they can easily feel each other breath. So close, but still out of reach. “Oh, well, I guess I’ll have to do it the old fashioned way, don’t I?”
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mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Jane watches, Lisbon still trying to soothe his soul, his eyes looking outside the windows of the mansion, on the ocean, on the seaside. It’s getting late, sun already gone, forgotten for few hours, but it’s not apparently time yet. It’s not time for the Rider to walk once again the roads of the mortal plane, not time for Jonny to turn into his alter ego, the blazing incarnation of vengeance itself. They have a plan, but it’s not time yet for it, can’t be time yet. They need to buy it, that time. Otherwise…
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">They don’t even want to try to think about the other chance, what will happen if “Carter” will get to perform his last show, a show designed to get his father’s attention, and to bring him there, among mortals, the end of days, the day Hell will conquer Earth first, and the Heavens later. The end of everything that it is.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Timothy, there is still time, we can help you. Allow us to purge your soul from the dark cloak that is your father’s influence upon you…” It’s the first time that Stephen Strange talks, says a word since they got there, and hearing his voice, Jane loses a beat. He knows the feelings in that voice, he shared them for longer than anyone should, he still does. There’s only a world to describe what the former sorcerer supreme is feeling right now, what Jane feels every day of his life from almost a decade.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Guilt.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Oh, Stephen, why can’t you and Daimon see it, don’t you understand what I’m trying to do here? I’m not the one at fault … you are. All I am trying to do, is saving this world” his voice is low, but… sweet, and almost caring, and Jane freezes, a flash-back of the mall hitting the front lobe of his brain full force…The man known to humanity like Red John is right in front of them. The man who killed his family is facing him, talking with a sweet, soothing voice. And he is calling Daimon his brother.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“You followed into our father’s footsteps, Timothy. I walk my own road. You want to open up the gates between hell and earth, I want to stop you and save this world.” The redhead man raises his right, and a firing trident appears like thin air while he keeps talking, almost the opposite of his “brother”, if Timothy Carter, or whatever this man is called, is indeed his brother.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Daimon is the one angry, the one with blazing red eyes, the one with the infernal trident, the one with the voice full of hate and rage. Definitely the opposite of Timothy, who, at the external eyes, may just look like the average man. Daimon isn’t, just barely looking at him, you feel it, the danger, like pouring out of him, like you could bath in his own essence just being closer to him. It’s like being engulfed by pure fear, like there’s nothing to fear but just fear, and there is evil, and hate, and it’s addictive, and it’s scary how everybody feels attracted to him, and it’s dangerous.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">And he knows, and he remembers, losing Patsy to madness, losing her once and for all when she killed herself because she couldn’t go on, couldn’t be at his side because he was, is, Daimon Hellstorm, the Son of Hell, the son of Satan, the end of everything that is and she couldn’t bear it, couldn’t going on loving him without knowing if he actually had a soul, not when there was a chance that he could be the son to bring the end of all.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Timothy shakes his head, almost like he was talking with a small child, and he was trying to make him understand something logical and easy , like his own brother was nothing but a stupid. “No, No, you see, Daimon, you don’t understand!” he talks with passion, a light filling his tiny eyes. There’s no trace of malice in his words, that much Jane can understand in his unstable status, but this doesn’t mean he isn’t as mad as he always, in part, thought. It’s a different kind of madness, one with a method, that’s all. He isn’t even plain evil. Just a small man, obsessed with some crazy scheme.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">And unable to die in any way known to common, mortal men.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Daimon, we still have time, we can still do it together, I’m sure once you’ll understand what I’m planning for this world, you’ll be at my side… and you too, Stephen. You used to trust me, I want you to trust me once again… we can do it, together, together we can save this world.” He pauses, and walks, calm, crossing the room like they weren’t even there, like that battle wasn’t the final one, the one where either you win all or lose all. “Whoever, or whatever created this world, call it fate, call it case, call it God, he did it billions of years ago, and look at what humankind did. In few millennia, they took it and destroyed it. Wars, holocaust, weapons of mass destructions, famines, illness created by the man himself… and murder and hate and rape and greed and I could go on for hours! Humanity asked for it, they were the ones begging for Hell to take over, because they are not worthy populating this world, can’t you see? They are not worth living! I’ll open the gate for Father to come here, and then, together, we’ll destroy this world, creating on his ashes our Utopia, free from your kind! I’m just doing what you taught me to do, Stephen, I’m not following Father’s advice, I am freeing myself from his influence, I’m going to trick the devil himself!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Jane looks again outside the windows, the sunset already over, the first artificial lights illuminating the landscape far away from them, but no sight of the Rider yet, even if it’s already night. Lisbon keeps holding him, holding him body and soul, his anchor, and he studies Johnny’s posture. The night has come, and the man is going to change, is already changing. A light smell of smoke fills their nostrils, almost imperceptible for someone who isn’t looking for the signs, the biker gets rigid, his eyes turn dark, like they were getting void, and his skin turns into a deep red, almost like pepperoni, like… like he is boiling, like he is going to combust into flames.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">A bike can be heard roaring outside, closer that it should be. Carter doesn’t pay attention, doesn’t look for the signals, maybe because he doesn’t know them, or maybe simply because he doesn’t care. After all, they are the first ones to not know if it will work, why should he be worried? He is the son of the Devil. Even if the Rider will bring him to hell, if he knows by now that the Rider is there among them, there’s no reason to think he should be afraid. He has been there, has been birthed to go there, being an hell’s spawn. Hell is a natural, hell is home for him. There’s no reason for him to be afraid.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Your Father will never allow this, and you know it. Rest assured that he is already thinking about how getting rid of you once the gate will be open. He is the Devil, and the Devil doesn’t share. If you help him now, he’ll destroy you like he destroyed the ones called Blackheart who come before you. If you’ll be lucky, he’ll give you a spot in Hell, otherwise, you’ll just simply cease to exist.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He laughs, of a crazy, infernal laughter, and smoke fills completely the air, as flames erupt from the body of the ma once called Johnny Blaze, and his skin burns in the holocaust of divine power. He knees on the soil, still laughing like a maniac, and when he stands, there is no longer the man. The God-like creature walks among them, now in utter silence, just a couple of steps, huge and majestic, erect and solid and scary.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Lisbon keeps holding Jane, but, in few second’s time, everything changed, and the anchor has become the one navigated unsure waters, the ones of fear, and she holds him, his shirt closed firmly in her fists, desiring to look away but unable to.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">It’s Jane that take hold of the situation, because he knows what Johnny is-what the creature standing in his place is capable of, and even if he saw his eyes and survived the experience, it doesn’t mean that Lisbon will as well, not if it’s true what he thinks she did for Bosco, covering a cold blood murder and the murderer himself, her mentor, the one who loved her and she loved just as a friend, the man she lied to in his deathbed. She may be pure, she may be a good person, the most honest one he had ever meet, but she is no perfect, and he can’t risk losing her, has to keep his promise, has to save her, has to keep her safe and avoid the woman from getting hurt. She is an anchor, his anchor, and he isn’t going to lose her, not this way.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He takes hold of her head, and forces Lisbon to hide it in his shirt, in his chest, forces her to close her eyes, and all the while he whispers sweet nothings into her ears, massages her back, rests small kisses on her hair, trying to calm her, trying to keep her with him, forcing her to stay there and not move, not interfere because of her curiosity, dark and scary, to look at the creature who was once man.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She can’t stop holding her mother’s cross, can’t stop whispering invocations to her Lord. She prays, like she did just few days before, and again she fears it’s the time, that she is going to see them, and she wonders, in the security of her mind, if her father is there as well, if he found peace in his death, if he is with her mother right now. Maybe they are all walking on a celestial beach along with Jane’s family, watching over them all, who knows.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US"> The one who once was Johnny keeps walking, and lifts his right hand, a single finger pointing towards the killer. Carter just chuckles again, and it’s scarier than anything else- they have been right all along, he isn’t scared by the Rider, by the idea of going to Hell.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Maybe he craves it.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Oh, please, the Rider, seriously? Daddy dearest tricked the first Rider, turning him from a burner of sin of whom deserved punishment into a collector of sold souls. You, you seriously are sending a weapon of Hell against me, a son of Hell itself? You think you can stop me with him? You know you can’t. You know you can’t kill me, as our dear friend Patrick so nicely proved you, and you can try to send me over there, but you already know that I’ll find my way back, and at the first occasion, I’ll end the circle, and you’ll kiss bye-bye to this plane of existence….it’s a just matter of time, and all you are doing is postponing the inevitable by prolonging the suffering of this world.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“But… there is a way to finish you, right? Otherwise… why being here, all of us? You know it, I can feel it, you are not so sure of yourself any longer. You know I won, we won. You know it’s the end for you. I don’t care if I’ll not be the one killing you, believe me, this is going to be enough, seeing the flame of life being extinguished from you, staring into your eyes while you’ll burn and fade away. I want to be the last thing you’ll see in that sorry excuse of a thing you dared to call life!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Patrick, Patrick, Patrick, you are always been a sinner, but I like you, you had style, and you could pretend with people to be better than them. And they believed you! It’s what I did as well, you know? To increase my power, and to make daddy willing to help me into destroying this world, I had to collect souls, but I needed help to do so. You’ve been my inspiration, you helped me into forming my own cult, finding my faithful army of martyrs…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Uhm it make sense, you know brother? You were born from sin, and sin you looked for in your followers. You didn’t burned it away, you melted it for your own good, at your own will, like dad would have done in your place. Visualize didn’t take poor good souls. You took in riches and sinners, of the worst kind…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Brett has been a nice addiction, and a good pastor of my word. I’m sorry he’ll have to die, but… you know what, truth to be told, I’m not sorry. He’ll make a nice addiction to my destructive armada. Like you all will. Because, seriously, Daimon, you know you can’t stop me, so, let’s stop wasting time and get it done, give me the girl and once she’ll be dead, I’ll be nice. I’ll kill you all quickly. And I’ll ask daddy to not torture you too much once you’ll be with him.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“We are more than you! We’ll prevail, don’t count us out yet!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yes, well, Patrick, you see” he removes the glasses, and studies him, amused, curious, like Jane was some kind of animal. “you may be a lot, and you even may have a Ghost Rider among your ranks, but you’re not enough yet. You can’t divide my body from my… soul what a silly word! And you can’t erase it, because you are not enough. You’d need another homo Magi among your people to do that, and, well, you don’t have that one person…so, I’d suggest to surrender. I’ll be nice, I promise.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Jane looks, eyes focused on his team-mates, all determined, but with a thin line of worriedness between their tense eyebrows. Is he lying, or is the truth? Is there really no way of putting an end to this?
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Two voices speaking ancient and lost languages fill the room, energy passing through their very being, filling everything and everyone, leaving anyone astonished, even Carter, glasses still in hand, for once at loss of words.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Fire fills almost completely the room, separating the man from his opponents through a high wall of mighty flames, and again the shiny dust covers them with the sound of thousands of small bells, the one of thousands and thousands of butterflies flying together at the same time in the same space, the sound of their wings like it was there, like it was real.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">But it’s not. And they are not. It’s just Megan, beautiful magical, butterfly-like wings of pure light of the same color of her hair appearing on her back, the twice blessed child, doing her thing, performing her special art of magic, scattering everyone at the different sides of the room until the enemy is distracted enough, until he can’t see what they are actually planning.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Van Pelt, suddenly, makes her presence knew, and takes a couple of steps forwards the killer, looking around. Stephen, Megan, the Rider and Daimon Hellstorm are scattered all around the room, but not at the corners. At the outside eyes, it would seem casual, but it’s not. Nothing is casual with them. They may be followers of the arts of magic, but nothing is given by case, by fate. Magic is just another kind of science, one just few are allowed to know, allowed to study and experiment on, and they are part of this selected clan of few, this sect, this secret circle.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Carter keeps grinning, but now his laughter gets closer and closer to the one of a maniac, of a crazy, the opposite of what he claimed, and still claims, to be. “Oh, please, a pentacle with salt crystals? What do you think I am, one of Jane’s conned? You lack a fifth member to end the pentacle, and believe me just because there’s the lovely Agent Van Pelt over there, I’m not gonna persuade myself to be scared of you. Accept it, you lack one of your own. I won, I win, end of the story, let’s finish it!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Jane’s eyes fall upon van Pelt, her hands pressed against her heart, her gulps of fear turning into proud determination, almost scary on her always unsure features, as scary is the grin, almost wicked, on her lips.. “You sure about that, Blackheart?” she kicks, slightly, the crystal at her feet, sending it in position, and as soon as she does that, she clasps her hands together, and light appears in the tiny space between them.
Chapter Six
Sihal Novarum Chinoth! Words like from nowhere fills the air, and in a blink she appears, in a cloud of light and sparkling glitters, a creature with long, purple-violet hair, that seems somehow real, not something fake, something come out from the 80s, and she smiles, not the same smile as Red John, but a smile of victory, almost telling the man she has him. Which probably she has, considered her next move, which, for an instant, makes him livid. Because, like she appeared, she disappears, but not alone, not any longer.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Megan is special, actually, she is twice special, twice blessed by Mother nature in a certain sense, and an instant was all she needed to take in her care the unconscious victim of the serial killer, the last part of the puzzle, the last fragment needed to complete the alchemic circle and open the gates of Hell.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Oh, smart, I like it. She looks like… a fairy? I’d say royalty, I think I smell Oberon’s magic on her. I like how you think, brother, I wasn’t expecting her here, I thought her kind was still secluded in Avalon…” Once again he stands, and snaps his fingers with a vigorous sound, incredible that it could come from such a small and apparently insignificant man, and as soon as he does it, the walls crushes down, and he walks, and keeps walking towards them, until he is so close they can easily feel each other breath. So close, but still out of reach. “Oh, well, I guess I’ll have to do it the old fashioned way, don’t I?”
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mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Jane watches, Lisbon still trying to soothe his soul, his eyes looking outside the windows of the mansion, on the ocean, on the seaside. It’s getting late, sun already gone, forgotten for few hours, but it’s not apparently time yet. It’s not time for the Rider to walk once again the roads of the mortal plane, not time for Jonny to turn into his alter ego, the blazing incarnation of vengeance itself. They have a plan, but it’s not time yet for it, can’t be time yet. They need to buy it, that time. Otherwise…
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">They don’t even want to try to think about the other chance, what will happen if “Carter” will get to perform his last show, a show designed to get his father’s attention, and to bring him there, among mortals, the end of days, the day Hell will conquer Earth first, and the Heavens later. The end of everything that it is.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Timothy, there is still time, we can help you. Allow us to purge your soul from the dark cloak that is your father’s influence upon you…” It’s the first time that Stephen Strange talks, says a word since they got there, and hearing his voice, Jane loses a beat. He knows the feelings in that voice, he shared them for longer than anyone should, he still does. There’s only a world to describe what the former sorcerer supreme is feeling right now, what Jane feels every day of his life from almost a decade.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Guilt.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Oh, Stephen, why can’t you and Daimon see it, don’t you understand what I’m trying to do here? I’m not the one at fault … you are. All I am trying to do, is saving this world” his voice is low, but… sweet, and almost caring, and Jane freezes, a flash-back of the mall hitting the front lobe of his brain full force…The man known to humanity like Red John is right in front of them. The man who killed his family is facing him, talking with a sweet, soothing voice. And he is calling Daimon his brother.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“You followed into our father’s footsteps, Timothy. I walk my own road. You want to open up the gates between hell and earth, I want to stop you and save this world.” The redhead man raises his right, and a firing trident appears like thin air while he keeps talking, almost the opposite of his “brother”, if Timothy Carter, or whatever this man is called, is indeed his brother.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Daimon is the one angry, the one with blazing red eyes, the one with the infernal trident, the one with the voice full of hate and rage. Definitely the opposite of Timothy, who, at the external eyes, may just look like the average man. Daimon isn’t, just barely looking at him, you feel it, the danger, like pouring out of him, like you could bath in his own essence just being closer to him. It’s like being engulfed by pure fear, like there’s nothing to fear but just fear, and there is evil, and hate, and it’s addictive, and it’s scary how everybody feels attracted to him, and it’s dangerous.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">And he knows, and he remembers, losing Patsy to madness, losing her once and for all when she killed herself because she couldn’t go on, couldn’t be at his side because he was, is, Daimon Hellstorm, the Son of Hell, the son of Satan, the end of everything that is and she couldn’t bear it, couldn’t going on loving him without knowing if he actually had a soul, not when there was a chance that he could be the son to bring the end of all.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Timothy shakes his head, almost like he was talking with a small child, and he was trying to make him understand something logical and easy , like his own brother was nothing but a stupid. “No, No, you see, Daimon, you don’t understand!” he talks with passion, a light filling his tiny eyes. There’s no trace of malice in his words, that much Jane can understand in his unstable status, but this doesn’t mean he isn’t as mad as he always, in part, thought. It’s a different kind of madness, one with a method, that’s all. He isn’t even plain evil. Just a small man, obsessed with some crazy scheme.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">And unable to die in any way known to common, mortal men.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Daimon, we still have time, we can still do it together, I’m sure once you’ll understand what I’m planning for this world, you’ll be at my side… and you too, Stephen. You used to trust me, I want you to trust me once again… we can do it, together, together we can save this world.” He pauses, and walks, calm, crossing the room like they weren’t even there, like that battle wasn’t the final one, the one where either you win all or lose all. “Whoever, or whatever created this world, call it fate, call it case, call it God, he did it billions of years ago, and look at what humankind did. In few millennia, they took it and destroyed it. Wars, holocaust, weapons of mass destructions, famines, illness created by the man himself… and murder and hate and rape and greed and I could go on for hours! Humanity asked for it, they were the ones begging for Hell to take over, because they are not worthy populating this world, can’t you see? They are not worth living! I’ll open the gate for Father to come here, and then, together, we’ll destroy this world, creating on his ashes our Utopia, free from your kind! I’m just doing what you taught me to do, Stephen, I’m not following Father’s advice, I am freeing myself from his influence, I’m going to trick the devil himself!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Jane looks again outside the windows, the sunset already over, the first artificial lights illuminating the landscape far away from them, but no sight of the Rider yet, even if it’s already night. Lisbon keeps holding him, holding him body and soul, his anchor, and he studies Johnny’s posture. The night has come, and the man is going to change, is already changing. A light smell of smoke fills their nostrils, almost imperceptible for someone who isn’t looking for the signs, the biker gets rigid, his eyes turn dark, like they were getting void, and his skin turns into a deep red, almost like pepperoni, like… like he is boiling, like he is going to combust into flames.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">A bike can be heard roaring outside, closer that it should be. Carter doesn’t pay attention, doesn’t look for the signals, maybe because he doesn’t know them, or maybe simply because he doesn’t care. After all, they are the first ones to not know if it will work, why should he be worried? He is the son of the Devil. Even if the Rider will bring him to hell, if he knows by now that the Rider is there among them, there’s no reason to think he should be afraid. He has been there, has been birthed to go there, being an hell’s spawn. Hell is a natural, hell is home for him. There’s no reason for him to be afraid.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Your Father will never allow this, and you know it. Rest assured that he is already thinking about how getting rid of you once the gate will be open. He is the Devil, and the Devil doesn’t share. If you help him now, he’ll destroy you like he destroyed the ones called Blackheart who come before you. If you’ll be lucky, he’ll give you a spot in Hell, otherwise, you’ll just simply cease to exist.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He laughs, of a crazy, infernal laughter, and smoke fills completely the air, as flames erupt from the body of the ma once called Johnny Blaze, and his skin burns in the holocaust of divine power. He knees on the soil, still laughing like a maniac, and when he stands, there is no longer the man. The God-like creature walks among them, now in utter silence, just a couple of steps, huge and majestic, erect and solid and scary.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Lisbon keeps holding Jane, but, in few second’s time, everything changed, and the anchor has become the one navigated unsure waters, the ones of fear, and she holds him, his shirt closed firmly in her fists, desiring to look away but unable to.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">It’s Jane that take hold of the situation, because he knows what Johnny is-what the creature standing in his place is capable of, and even if he saw his eyes and survived the experience, it doesn’t mean that Lisbon will as well, not if it’s true what he thinks she did for Bosco, covering a cold blood murder and the murderer himself, her mentor, the one who loved her and she loved just as a friend, the man she lied to in his deathbed. She may be pure, she may be a good person, the most honest one he had ever meet, but she is no perfect, and he can’t risk losing her, has to keep his promise, has to save her, has to keep her safe and avoid the woman from getting hurt. She is an anchor, his anchor, and he isn’t going to lose her, not this way.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He takes hold of her head, and forces Lisbon to hide it in his shirt, in his chest, forces her to close her eyes, and all the while he whispers sweet nothings into her ears, massages her back, rests small kisses on her hair, trying to calm her, trying to keep her with him, forcing her to stay there and not move, not interfere because of her curiosity, dark and scary, to look at the creature who was once man.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She can’t stop holding her mother’s cross, can’t stop whispering invocations to her Lord. She prays, like she did just few days before, and again she fears it’s the time, that she is going to see them, and she wonders, in the security of her mind, if her father is there as well, if he found peace in his death, if he is with her mother right now. Maybe they are all walking on a celestial beach along with Jane’s family, watching over them all, who knows.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US"> The one who once was Johnny keeps walking, and lifts his right hand, a single finger pointing towards the killer. Carter just chuckles again, and it’s scarier than anything else- they have been right all along, he isn’t scared by the Rider, by the idea of going to Hell.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Maybe he craves it.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Oh, please, the Rider, seriously? Daddy dearest tricked the first Rider, turning him from a burner of sin of whom deserved punishment into a collector of sold souls. You, you seriously are sending a weapon of Hell against me, a son of Hell itself? You think you can stop me with him? You know you can’t. You know you can’t kill me, as our dear friend Patrick so nicely proved you, and you can try to send me over there, but you already know that I’ll find my way back, and at the first occasion, I’ll end the circle, and you’ll kiss bye-bye to this plane of existence….it’s a just matter of time, and all you are doing is postponing the inevitable by prolonging the suffering of this world.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“But… there is a way to finish you, right? Otherwise… why being here, all of us? You know it, I can feel it, you are not so sure of yourself any longer. You know I won, we won. You know it’s the end for you. I don’t care if I’ll not be the one killing you, believe me, this is going to be enough, seeing the flame of life being extinguished from you, staring into your eyes while you’ll burn and fade away. I want to be the last thing you’ll see in that sorry excuse of a thing you dared to call life!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Patrick, Patrick, Patrick, you are always been a sinner, but I like you, you had style, and you could pretend with people to be better than them. And they believed you! It’s what I did as well, you know? To increase my power, and to make daddy willing to help me into destroying this world, I had to collect souls, but I needed help to do so. You’ve been my inspiration, you helped me into forming my own cult, finding my faithful army of martyrs…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Uhm it make sense, you know brother? You were born from sin, and sin you looked for in your followers. You didn’t burned it away, you melted it for your own good, at your own will, like dad would have done in your place. Visualize didn’t take poor good souls. You took in riches and sinners, of the worst kind…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Brett has been a nice addiction, and a good pastor of my word. I’m sorry he’ll have to die, but… you know what, truth to be told, I’m not sorry. He’ll make a nice addiction to my destructive armada. Like you all will. Because, seriously, Daimon, you know you can’t stop me, so, let’s stop wasting time and get it done, give me the girl and once she’ll be dead, I’ll be nice. I’ll kill you all quickly. And I’ll ask daddy to not torture you too much once you’ll be with him.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“We are more than you! We’ll prevail, don’t count us out yet!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yes, well, Patrick, you see” he removes the glasses, and studies him, amused, curious, like Jane was some kind of animal. “you may be a lot, and you even may have a Ghost Rider among your ranks, but you’re not enough yet. You can’t divide my body from my… soul what a silly word! And you can’t erase it, because you are not enough. You’d need another homo Magi among your people to do that, and, well, you don’t have that one person…so, I’d suggest to surrender. I’ll be nice, I promise.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Jane looks, eyes focused on his team-mates, all determined, but with a thin line of worriedness between their tense eyebrows. Is he lying, or is the truth? Is there really no way of putting an end to this?
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Two voices speaking ancient and lost languages fill the room, energy passing through their very being, filling everything and everyone, leaving anyone astonished, even Carter, glasses still in hand, for once at loss of words.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Fire fills almost completely the room, separating the man from his opponents through a high wall of mighty flames, and again the shiny dust covers them with the sound of thousands of small bells, the one of thousands and thousands of butterflies flying together at the same time in the same space, the sound of their wings like it was there, like it was real.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">But it’s not. And they are not. It’s just Megan, beautiful magical, butterfly-like wings of pure light of the same color of her hair appearing on her back, the twice blessed child, doing her thing, performing her special art of magic, scattering everyone at the different sides of the room until the enemy is distracted enough, until he can’t see what they are actually planning.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Van Pelt, suddenly, makes her presence knew, and takes a couple of steps forwards the killer, looking around. Stephen, Megan, the Rider and Daimon Hellstorm are scattered all around the room, but not at the corners. At the outside eyes, it would seem casual, but it’s not. Nothing is casual with them. They may be followers of the arts of magic, but nothing is given by case, by fate. Magic is just another kind of science, one just few are allowed to know, allowed to study and experiment on, and they are part of this selected clan of few, this sect, this secret circle.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Carter keeps grinning, but now his laughter gets closer and closer to the one of a maniac, of a crazy, the opposite of what he claimed, and still claims, to be. “Oh, please, a pentacle with salt crystals? What do you think I am, one of Jane’s conned? You lack a fifth member to end the pentacle, and believe me just because there’s the lovely Agent Van Pelt over there, I’m not gonna persuade myself to be scared of you. Accept it, you lack one of your own. I won, I win, end of the story, let’s finish it!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Jane’s eyes fall upon van Pelt, her hands pressed against her heart, her gulps of fear turning into proud determination, almost scary on her always unsure features, as scary is the grin, almost wicked, on her lips.. “You sure about that, Blackheart?” she kicks, slightly, the crystal at her feet, sending it in position, and as soon as she does that, she clasps her hands together, and light appears in the tiny space between them.