Cris plonked his cup of coffee down on the scratched, dishevelled, unkempt, dirty grey table, as he scratched his head. He hadn’t had a bath in over 36 hours, and he was feeling really grimey. He also hadn’t slept in over 2 days, and the lack of sleep was catching up with him. He rubbed his eyes, and collected his thoughts. He started writing about how Robert had contacted him, and then proceeded to describe the mission. When he reached the part where the Bezdusan rose out of it’s body and flew off, he paused. He remembered that the parabolic bolts had hit the Bezdusan’s backpack, which contained it’s tools. He immediately reached for his phone and punched Roshan’s co-ordinates into it. Roshan showed up on the screen. He yelled above the chopper’s roar, “What is it?” Cris told him to get the Bezdusan’s tools when he returned back. Roshan nodded, and disconnected the phone. Cris smiled, and returned to finishing his report.
Martin hit the “Enter” button for the 15th time, and growled in frustration. Why wasn’t Roussaini’s nephew on the grid?? Where was he? Why couldn’t he find his soul?? Martin decided to call his house in Paris. He called the residence on the regular phone. A butler answered. When he heard Martin’s voice, he immediately transferred the line to Roussaini’s sister, Jeanette. Jeannette picked up the phone in her study, and greeted Martin. “Why Martin, what a pleasant surprise! What makes you call here?” “Jeanette, I need to speak to Seb. Is he home?” “No, Martin. He and his fiancee are on holiday in Corsica. They went to my brother’s cottage in L’Ile Rousse yesterday. They’ll be on holiday for a week. Why?” Martin went cold when he heard this. He politely backed off, and wished her good health, and hung up. He rang for Cris and asked him to come in immediately.
“Cris, What was the human’s name who you rescued from the Bezdusan yesterday?” Cris replied, “Sebastian Armond and Sheila. Why?”. Martin’s face drained of all it’s color when he heard this.
Martin bellowed, “We have to go out to L’ile Rousse immediately. Notify the Andeli station in Milan to meet us there in 3 hours. The sooner the better. And we need atleast 6 agents with us. Experienced hands, you hear?” “Yes, boss”
The Bezdusan got off the email server, and switched off the computer. He had to get to Paris immediately. His brothers had been found out, and those idiots had picked fights with the Andeli. Why, at this time could they have not laid low??? He cursed under his breath, as he adjusted his robe, and shuffled across the carpet to the main hall. Sheila entered with a tray of breakfast –waffles, and honey syrup. “There you go, honey. Made just the way you like it.” He looked at her, and smiled. “Sheila darling, we need to return to Paris tonight. Something urgent has come up at the hospital.” Her smile disappeared. “But we just got here!!! And you’re injured. What is this obsession with this stupid hospital? First it was your uncle and now it’s you. Sometimes I think you don’t think about anything other than that bloody hospital. First decent vacation in years, and you have to head back immediately!” She stormed out, tears in her eyes. The Bezdusan sighed, and Seb’s body followed her up the stairs to the master bedroom. She walked into the bedroom, and he followed her. At the entrance he felt a tight band across his chest. He couldnt move forward. He moved a step back and stared in disbelief.
The entire master bedroom was covered in silken silver energy threads crisscrossing it. He was unable to enter the room. He saw Sheila sobbing on the bed, but he could not enter the room. As he stood there, he saw the floor covered by a carpet of silver threads, and the fireplace was covered by a door of silver with a silver bolt across it. A shield was stamped across the fireplace, that was shaped like a 5 point star. It bore a lion, who held a broadsword in one hand of a warrior. He smiled evilly. What luck!
He called out to Sheila, “Darling, please calm down. OK, we won’t leave immediately. I will work on the phone to solve my issue. Please don’t be mad. “ Sheila kept on crying, and told him, “Leave me be, OK? I want to be alone right now. Go away.” The Bezdusan turned around and went down the stairs immediately. He needed his tools right away, so he could control this portal as soon as possible. He eyes glittered as he considered the possibilities. A portal in the heart of Europe!!! This was a gold mine! He went to the computer and switched it on. He had to call his brothers here as soon as possible. His brow furrowed with concentration, The Bezdusan began typing furiously. The glow of the computer screen reflected on Sebastian Armond’s face, and The Bezdusan’s bloodshot eyes.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
SoulCatcher - 7
Martin got up from his chair, and walked over to the white board, picked up the marker and started writing something. Roshan, Cris and Robert looked at his broad back as he intently wrote something on the white board. When he turned, and walked away, the white board seemed to scream at them in Blue Ink: “DECLARE A STATE OF EMERGENCY. GATHER ALL HOLY SOULS AND ASSEMBLE THEM AT THE VATICAN.”
Roshan and Cris knew then that this was a crisis of huge proportions. That whiteboard was a communication device between all the regional Celestial Chiefs. The moment Martin wrote that message on that white board, it would flash across all similar whiteboards across every Chief’s office, and will make it’s way to every Celestial’s beeper. Sure enough, their beeper began beeping, with the message notification.
“So the Sotona are not actually the Sotona. They are renegade soul catchers, the Bezdusan. How are they entering this world? There must be a portal that is allowing them access...”, Martin mused.
“Boss, I thought we plugged all the holes about 300 years ago!” Cris exclaimed. “I remember, I personally bombed that portal in Westminster Abbey in 1698!”
Martin said, “Yes, but they must have found a way out. I think this Bezdusan you encountered in Corsica, is the key to these soul catchers. If they can teleport and jump bodies, they have much stronger powers than even the Sotona.”
Robert’s phone rang. It was Gene. “Robert, this is Gene. That trapped soul beacon is still ringing in my ears! How many hours do you NEED to pick that bloody soul up??!?!?!?!?” Robert said, “Gene, we’re in the midst of a crisis here! Gimme a break!” Gene replied, “Come on Robert, I’m just a part-time here, trying to purify my soul by monitoring this god forsaken undermanned post by night. Get this soul picked up, for god’s sake!” Pun unintended, Gene slammed down the phone.
Robert turned to Cris and Roshan, and said, “We forgot to pick up the trapped soul out there.” Cris hit his forehead, “Thats what sent us there in the first place! Maybe this trapped soul will give us a lead on the Bezdusan.”
Martin directed Roshan to go pick up the trapped soul. Roshan left with a group of celestial constables to pick up the soul. Robert went back to the control tower, to monitor and scan the network for the 7 souls that were still missing. After they left, Cris drained the remnants of his coffee, and sighed. “Boss, do you think we can stop these creatures again?”
Martin shrugged, and turned to his computer. “Let me message Roussaini’s nephew and inform him. He’ll be able to patch us through to Roussaini. Although he’s human, he’s almost immortal. He runs a heart hospital in Paris.” Cris stood up. “Well, I have to go file my paperwork on tonight’s encounter. Atleast those humans survived.”
“What humans?” Martin asked. “Those humans in the car, who were the Bezdusan’ primary targets. We managed to send them off successfully.” “Really? How did that happened? I’m surprised the Bezdusan let go of it’s prey. They’re normally like bloodhounds. And considering the earlier trapped soul beacon, I think this one was hungry as well. It’s not like a Bezdusan to leave it’s prey.” Martin asked. Cris replied, “Well, looks like we scared this one pretty good.” Martin returned to his computer, and started searching for Roussaini’s nephew.
The Bezdusan stretched Seb’s legs, as he relaxed on the settee. It was 9 AM the next morning and he langurously stretched every part of his new body as he enjoyed the view of the sea through the large bay windows. Situated on a promontory, Le Maison Rousainni enjoyed a breathtaking view of the French Mediterranean sea. The Bezdusan woke up and strolled to the door, and walked outside. The bright dazzling sunlight bore down on him. Realising his mistake, The Bezdusan screamed involuntarily as the sunlight penetrated his body shield, and touched his soul periphery. The heat was unbearable. He ran back inside the cottage. Sheila came running down the stairs. “What happened, Seb? Why did you scream like that??” She asked. “It was nothing. I fell off the settee when I woke up.” Sheila walked over to The Bezdusan, and kissed him tenderly. “You’ve had a rough night. Try to rest. I’ll make up some breakfast for you.” The Bezdusan just nodded and walked to the living room. He thought, “Try to say as little as possible.”
He walked to the computer in the living room, and switched it on. He needed to find out as much as possible about Seb as quickly as he could. Before people starting suspecting that it wasn’t Seb. Without his tools, he could not scan Seb’s brain, and without Seb’s brain, he could not become Seb. He needed his tools. And he needed them soon. He had to get a message out to his brothers.
Roshan and Cris knew then that this was a crisis of huge proportions. That whiteboard was a communication device between all the regional Celestial Chiefs. The moment Martin wrote that message on that white board, it would flash across all similar whiteboards across every Chief’s office, and will make it’s way to every Celestial’s beeper. Sure enough, their beeper began beeping, with the message notification.
“So the Sotona are not actually the Sotona. They are renegade soul catchers, the Bezdusan. How are they entering this world? There must be a portal that is allowing them access...”, Martin mused.
“Boss, I thought we plugged all the holes about 300 years ago!” Cris exclaimed. “I remember, I personally bombed that portal in Westminster Abbey in 1698!”
Martin said, “Yes, but they must have found a way out. I think this Bezdusan you encountered in Corsica, is the key to these soul catchers. If they can teleport and jump bodies, they have much stronger powers than even the Sotona.”
Robert’s phone rang. It was Gene. “Robert, this is Gene. That trapped soul beacon is still ringing in my ears! How many hours do you NEED to pick that bloody soul up??!?!?!?!?” Robert said, “Gene, we’re in the midst of a crisis here! Gimme a break!” Gene replied, “Come on Robert, I’m just a part-time here, trying to purify my soul by monitoring this god forsaken undermanned post by night. Get this soul picked up, for god’s sake!” Pun unintended, Gene slammed down the phone.
Robert turned to Cris and Roshan, and said, “We forgot to pick up the trapped soul out there.” Cris hit his forehead, “Thats what sent us there in the first place! Maybe this trapped soul will give us a lead on the Bezdusan.”
Martin directed Roshan to go pick up the trapped soul. Roshan left with a group of celestial constables to pick up the soul. Robert went back to the control tower, to monitor and scan the network for the 7 souls that were still missing. After they left, Cris drained the remnants of his coffee, and sighed. “Boss, do you think we can stop these creatures again?”
Martin shrugged, and turned to his computer. “Let me message Roussaini’s nephew and inform him. He’ll be able to patch us through to Roussaini. Although he’s human, he’s almost immortal. He runs a heart hospital in Paris.” Cris stood up. “Well, I have to go file my paperwork on tonight’s encounter. Atleast those humans survived.”
“What humans?” Martin asked. “Those humans in the car, who were the Bezdusan’ primary targets. We managed to send them off successfully.” “Really? How did that happened? I’m surprised the Bezdusan let go of it’s prey. They’re normally like bloodhounds. And considering the earlier trapped soul beacon, I think this one was hungry as well. It’s not like a Bezdusan to leave it’s prey.” Martin asked. Cris replied, “Well, looks like we scared this one pretty good.” Martin returned to his computer, and started searching for Roussaini’s nephew.
The Bezdusan stretched Seb’s legs, as he relaxed on the settee. It was 9 AM the next morning and he langurously stretched every part of his new body as he enjoyed the view of the sea through the large bay windows. Situated on a promontory, Le Maison Rousainni enjoyed a breathtaking view of the French Mediterranean sea. The Bezdusan woke up and strolled to the door, and walked outside. The bright dazzling sunlight bore down on him. Realising his mistake, The Bezdusan screamed involuntarily as the sunlight penetrated his body shield, and touched his soul periphery. The heat was unbearable. He ran back inside the cottage. Sheila came running down the stairs. “What happened, Seb? Why did you scream like that??” She asked. “It was nothing. I fell off the settee when I woke up.” Sheila walked over to The Bezdusan, and kissed him tenderly. “You’ve had a rough night. Try to rest. I’ll make up some breakfast for you.” The Bezdusan just nodded and walked to the living room. He thought, “Try to say as little as possible.”
He walked to the computer in the living room, and switched it on. He needed to find out as much as possible about Seb as quickly as he could. Before people starting suspecting that it wasn’t Seb. Without his tools, he could not scan Seb’s brain, and without Seb’s brain, he could not become Seb. He needed his tools. And he needed them soon. He had to get a message out to his brothers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)