Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1) (14 page)

But wait. There it was. Alone and silent, the person, the vessel he sought. Griffin DeLuca. The energy sprites that made the whole of Gabriel’s corporeal form began to arrange in radial lines using Griffin as the center. Then they reformed back into the figure of Gabriel.

Griffin opened one eye, and for several moments he looked around his room. From his room’s exterior walls small balls of light rolled through and were coming together in a single point. Right through the walls! Opening the other eye, he almost laughed. All that has happened, and now this....this
apparition
in his bedroom. Griffin rubbed his eyes. Maybe these lights were sparks within his eyes. An effect of being too tired and awake far too late. But the lights didn't go away. They were real. Not in his mind. Griffin repeated that to himself, ‘Not in his mind.’ And as he watched, Griffin grew fearful, alarmed even. In front of him a pillar of lights took shape. At first the swirling mass appeared like dozens of large fireflies caught up in a dust cyclone. Each source of light cast a bright sphere onto the interior of Griffin's bedroom. Then they were hundreds, and the swirling slowed and stopped as each light source was clicking into an invisible notch. The pillar expanded, growing shoulders and a distinctive head.

Griffin knew he had either completed his madness or needed to run for his life, or both. Then, he witnessed the impossible. He felt and heard a vacuum of sound come over him. As in the dream, there was a pressure in the air. Not overwhelming, but distinct. As the pressure kicked in and the sound went away, Griffin saw lose items lifted around the room in reaction. He felt his bed covers rise slightly. Behind the apparition, on Griffin's chest of drawers, a silver ring lifted and resettled. Dust was mixing freely with the lights. Sound was muffled to the point Griffin could hear and feel his blood swim in his ears.

The apparition was collected sparks of light that came from the floor, from beyond the walls. The convergence accelerated, light swimming and fixing to this person, thing, ghost, horror. Then it changed. A light blue illumination filled in between the lights and gave the apparition the three dimensional effect. The final lights clicked into place, and the apparition took a step forward and lifted its left lower arm and hand, palm up. Griffin experienced a strange sensation; he felt cool water was rushing into the gap between his scalp and brain. It would have reminded him of a cold shower, but this feeling was beneath his hair. And now it was running beneath his skin down his back and... and... and... his thoughts were no longer his. Other thoughts flooded in, images, tasks, need, control, and Griffin panicked.

He inhaled through his nose and mouth, filling his lungs. If this was how death came, Griffin was going to go with a fight. According to the small amount of his own brain he still controlled, Griffin knew he was screaming in defiance. His body shook with rage, and for two seconds the vacuum of sound held. He broke through the vacuum, and "OOOOOOOOOOOOOO" roared from his mouth, lips peeled back exposing his teeth, spit flying. The word began as a “No.” Griffin mentally ripped the sensation from his spine and head. He forced the creature back. It turned its head ever so slightly to the left in mild disgust.

Again the horror came at Griffin, and this time he heard his name vibrate through his skull. The effect cracked Griffin's sense of self. He felt he was turning into smoke and was too close to a slamming door. His essence wavered, and he was made transparent. Was he dead? Was he now a ghost? Defying the threat before him, Griffin turned, expecting to see his body wilted on the floor or upon his bed. But checking his hands and thighs, saw he was whole. The apparition had made another attempt to take him, but this time it tried to displace his soul from his body. That too had failed.

His legs weren't as defiant as Griffin wanted them to be, but he made it to his feet. As he did, his fear subsided and his confidence grew. “Fuck you!” Griffin screamed at the giant form in his room. The apparition hunched over and blossomed to fill the room. Its head grew to a meter tall and looked down at Griffin. Its giant hands opened on either side of him. Griffin was squeezed from all around. His feet slowly left the floor and he felt the creature suspending his body in mid-air. He heard and felt the creature say, “Vessel, obey,” like he was inside a giant bell. The sound crushed him, and he vibrated with terror. Griffin again imagined he had died and was being dragged to hell. He almost began to reflect on his misgivings as a bad teenager, but realized he was still in front of the now-gigantic thing, and it was out-of-this-world pissed off.

Griffin felt the force of its radiant hands attempting to liquify into his mouth and nose. His eyelids felt like they would peel back under the force of tainted water. He felt a blood vessel give way in his nose. A warm sensation began to leave his left nostril. The blood defied gravity and ran across his cheek into his ear. Griffin couldn't withstand this for long. The pressure smothered and crushed him at the same time. He started shaking, going into shock.

Griffin gave in and let go. “If I'm going to die and leave this plane, it will be on my terms, and I will choose my final resting place,” Griffin thought, connecting with the mind of the horror. He closed his eyes and allowed the air to be crushed from his lungs. From within, Griffin welcomed the cosmos. He imagined himself as a lone tree, his roots curled down beneath a field of tall grass. He looked up and saw the sky swim below the stars, his face awash in warm winds. His leaves waved a thousand goodbyes and hellos.

Griffin fell limp to the floor. He was still shaking. He let out a broken sob and began to cry. His body ached. It was too painful to move. “I’m not a tree?” Griffin cried aloud. “I’m not a tree,” he answered himself back. “Not a tree,” he repeated again, this time with disappointment. Blackness took him.

Investigation

The klaxon ring raged from the cell phone. Arthur Graves woke groggily, the klaxon tone dragging him along into awareness. Palming the device he saw the text marked “Alpha - Urgent.” “Crud,” Arthur said. He put on his robe and stumbled into the kitchen. The coffee set and brewing, Arthur dashed around the corner and found his small notebook next to his keys, sunglasses, cell bluetooth ear piece, pocket change, a few bills of assorted currency. Grabbing the ear piece and notebook, Arthur circled back around to the kitchen and thumbed through the small pages. Moments later he had the ear piece in, the notepad to the correct page, and the phone dialing. He listened with his eyes closed trying to remember this high security process. There was a single tone.

“Graves, alpha alpha sierra two two one four,” Arthur said.

“Authorized,” came the automated reply.

Arthur knew his entrance would be announced to the other members of the call, by a previous recording he himself had made.

“Arthur Graves,” Arthur heard his voice say in his ear.

“This is Secretary of Homeland Security Mark Stanos, and with me is Director Frank Lovas, White House Office of Science. Director Lovas, joining us is my western PA regional head, Director Arthur Graves.”

Quick pleasantries were unacceptable in these types of situations. Arthur was sure he was about to be a part of a “situation” momentarily. It was, according to his den's clock, 4:18 a.m.

“Arthur, you will give Director Lovas your full attention. There is a situation in Pittsburgh to be addressed,” the secretary advised.

“There was that situation word,” Arthur thought. The hairs on his arms stood even taller.

“Thank you, Mr. Secretary,” came an unfamiliar voice. “Director Graves, I took the liberty to contact the Secretary directly, circumventing a small amount of protocol —“

“You did the right thing,” his boss cut off the Director.

Arthur gave some thought to which of these two was the higher ranked. He quickly reeled in his ADHD.

The unfamiliar voice, Director Lovas, continued, “Minutes ago, Director Graves, two PA Air National Guard F-16's were brought down over western PA, specifically, in downtown Pittsburgh, by an unknown object.”

The Director paused for effect.

“The official story tomorrow will be an unfortunate training accident; however, the real story is much more exceptional.”

Another pause.

“This object, detected fifty-two hours ago, came from space, origin unknown.” The Director was speaking clearly for effect, Arthur noticed.

“At this point, that is all I can say, Mr. Secretary.” The Director gave the conversation back over to his boss.

“Arthur, this is not a drill. This is not an exercise dreamed up by NASA or part of a annual review. This is real and a mess.” Now, his boss was scaring him. “Arthur, we need you to go downtown and supervise the recovery of those bodies and the debris before the public is up and filling their home pages with pics of dead airmen and air craft parts. Then, I want every asset you have, and I'll send you my best as well, if you need them, completely under your supervision. That thing that brought down those pilots flew over Pittsburgh and dissolved just northwest of downtown.”

“Do you have data you can send me?” Arthur asked. He needed details.

"Yes, Director Lovas will send you specifics from NASA.”

“What am I looking for?” Arthur asked awkwardly. “What exactly is this thing?”

“We don't know at this time,” Director Lovas answered. “I’ll have people from JPL upload all the data they have.”

“I need your best people on this,” the Secretary cut in.

“Sir, you'll have my best.” Now it was time to ensure the higher ups, Arthur thought as he squared his shoulders. “While I'm supervising the cleanup, I'll have agents going over demographic metrics of the area this thing, uh, dissolved, and black and whites driving the area looking for anything suspicious or out-of-the-ordinary.” He knew he sounded self-confident. “Mr. Secretary, do I have clearance to pull meta data of the residence in a square kilometer of point of where we lost the object?” Arthur asked, while he still had the floor.

The Secretary didn't hesitate. “Yes, of course.”

“There may be information there of unusual behavior or observations,” Arthur added to cement the request.

“Oh shit,” Arthur heard his boss say.

“Mr. Secretary?” asked Director Lovas.

“Arthur, you don't have to look far.” Arthur could hear his boss murmuring to himself, as though he was reading a report.

“The damn thing is standing in a park north of downtown,” the Secretary said excitedly. “It’s on Twitter.”

“Sirs,” Arthur said, taking ownership. “I look forward to your emails. I'll be in the field.” Arthur waited for a moment and heard the tones as others hung up, and he ended the call. As he bolted to the shower his phone sounded the tone for encrypted email. It was a quick message from the Secretary. “Frank Curto Park, along Bigalow Blvd” was all it read.

Salvation

The perfunctory Gabriel stood sentinel to its own failure. Never before had an Archangel failed to deliver God's message, much less to possess a host. Inside the brilliance of angelic energy, the encapsulated Gabriel was glad this version of himself was away from the vessel, Griffin. The internal Gabriel could not bear to witness the onslaught of force directed at a human being. Gabriel was in awe of the vessel, Griffin. Never before had a human been able to repel a messenger of God. Usually a vessel was overwhelmed by what was taking place and the information shared. They were helpless to resist. But Gabriel knew he wasn't innocent of harm to humankind. And these thoughts brought out a dark taint in Gabriel. He didn't like the aftermath of any vessel used by an Archangel. Throughout history not a single human had been able to survive the exposed knowledge of an Archangel once the possession ended. The guilt of witnessing a host go mad and die was too much. These beings were someone you had shared mental space with, sometimes for years. After returning and having reviewed their horrors, Archangels would often lock themselves away for long periods. Some Archangels had decided to leave their hosts and not look back.

Gabriel focused his attention on his corporeal shell. After the failure to secure the vessel Griffin, Gabriel's energy form had shot outside of the dwelling, passing through solid matter, and crossing river to stop in a small park overlooking more dwellings. Gabriel looked around his surroundings. The city around him was beautiful. Lights stretched on for miles into the darkness. Except for the distant mechanical wails of sound, all was peaceful. Humankind had advanced so much since his last visit. Seeing that humankind was still here and thriving gave Gabriel a sense of distant pride.

“Now how do I improve this current situation?” Gabriel asked himself.

Gabriel checked the status of his outer corporeal self. The shell was motionless. Action-less. There was no command or commands after such a failure.

“Swell,” Gabriel thought, and “I could be standing here for eons.” Gabriel wondered how long an Archangel could retain its energy. He imagined, to his amusement, what the humans would do with him before he winked out? Would they build a shrine? Try to tap his energy? Provoke the corporeal form into destroying everything nearby? How would this affect God's past message, or shape religion in the years to come?

The last question made Gabriel realize he had to act. He extended his thoughts outward. His mind reached across the city. Gabriel began to touch minds and take in thoughts of those awake at such an hour. He could sense images from dreams from many forms of life. He muted all of it out with regret and allowed his mind to venture further. This city was vast, but Gabriel worked his mind beyond it. His mind witnessed farms and small expanses of forest. He allowed his mind to pause and soak in the natural elements. It was like planting mental bare feet in cool clean grass. Gabriel enjoyed the sensation. Now that his mind was far beyond the city, Gabriel relaxed and prepared his thoughts. What he was about to do was unprecedented and vital.