Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D. (37 page)

Again setting herself, Ashlyn took a defensive stance.

“She is good,” said Steven.

Steven called out to the gaping crowd. “Slaves! I call to you. I command you to rise up, because your deliverance is at hand. Behold, he bleeds. I Enki, command you to fight. Do not refuse to obey me, for I speak for the Anunnaki, those who stood by your side and defended your home back on Earth.” Steven could only hope that a few of them might understand English.

The serpent screamed in pain as he curled and wriggled like a worm on a hook.

The people seemed awed at the use of Enki’s name and seemed about to fight, when Enlil took notice of their growing courage and stopped thrashing.

Seeking to regain control, he turned toward Steven and shifted form, becoming Steven. Ashlyn’s knife fluttered through the air, falling to the courtyard’s floor. Enlil, in the form of Steven uttered something in an unknown language, neither Sumerian nor English. To Steven, he then said, “She will be my special prize, and she will pay in ways she cannot imagine.”

He then gave a very human sounding maniacal laugh, before turning and speaking to Ashlyn, “You are indeed beautiful. I remember the days of long ago when females offered themselves to me. They wanted nothing more than to please me, their God—but the females here are withered and dry.”

“We’ve grown up, Enlil. We know a false god when we see one,” Ash answered back.

“Spirited. I like that. You remind me of humans from earlier times. I think I will keep you for as long as you can bring me pleasure. Do you like me in his form?” said Enlil. “I’ll bet you may even enjoy it,” said Enlil in Steven’s voice.

Ash spit on the ground. “You aren’t worthy of washing his feet!”

Steven was never so proud of her as he was at that very moment—a moment when they both faced death.

The serpent hissed, “You fight for him. Then let me make you an offer. If you surrender yourself to me and do my bidding, you have my word that I will spare his life!”

Ashlyn considered his offer for only the briefest of moments, before her posture relaxed, and she allowed the guards to come and bind her.
We need time, my love. Time to understand how to use the Gift!
said Ashlyn into Steven’s mind.

Enlil in Steven’s form turned and spoke to Steven, “I find you and your whore very amusing. You will die this day, but know that I will treat her well for as long as she pleases me. And yes, human—it is as you say—my size will impress her—if it does not split her in two!” he said with a haughty laugh.

Enlil looked at the guard standing beside Steven, and with a nod the Elite Guard gave Steven a hard blow that sent him flying to the ground.

The pain from his nearly cracked jaw was intense, his breath trapped in his throat. Struggling, he defiantly rolled over to see the enemy who had struck him.

Shaking, Steven rose to his knees. He wasn’t going to let the man rob him of his dignity, not in his last moments of life. Steven spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

Suddenly, all around Steven flames arose, burning him. Steven screamed as his skin bubbled, blistered, and charred. The deeper layers of his muscle tissue flaked away, exposing the white bone beneath. The torrential flood of pain drove him toward insanity as a distant inhuman scream carried upon his last breath, escaped him.

His hair in flames, dripped like candle wax to the ground. His fingers were black, charred. He wondered why he was alive, how he could endure such pain, such mutilation, and not die.

Steven, the pain isn’t real. It is one of the Watchers, Enlil’s Elite Guard. He’s giving you the vision of pain—a pain that is only in your mind. Listen to me, Steven. It is only a vision. He is putting it into your mind. It’s not real. Focus on my voice! Focus! Picture a wall of cinder blocks between you and the flames. A wall, Steven! A wall!

Steven strained against the pain, listening to Ashlyn’s voice. He pictured the wall, but the pain was so intense, so real!

Yes, Steven—reach out and touch it. The wall is real! It is between you and the flames! Touch it. Feel it. It is shielding you from the fire. You are stronger than he is. Focus. Fight him! Touch the wall! Fight!

Touching it, he suddenly began to believe in its existence. He could feel its rough texture. It was cool to the touch. He pummeled his fists against it, each blow reinforcing his belief that it was there. He pounded at the wall, his own blood staining it red. The wall was thick. It surrounded him. It was between him and the flames. It was between him and—the—flames.

The flames receded until it went dark and then coalesced into a field of green.

The pain was gone. He was floating, flying over a green field that ebbed with pulsing energy. Electrical impulses swirled and raced away from him as though they were fleeing from his presence. The pathway cleared before him, letting him escape. He concentrated harder upon reaching the other side, where he saw a bright circular doorway. Rainbow colors raced across the sky above as he sped toward it. He could feel his salvation nearing as he exploded into the light.

Suddenly, from some distant place, he saw himself down on his knees. His hands were braced at his temples, his eyes wide like that of a madman. His face exhibited a look of fierce concentration. Steven was shocked to find that he had gained entry into the mind of his attacker.

His excitement at the revelation, that he could reverse the flow of the vision sent a wild surge of adrenaline coursing through him. Steven pictured himself tearing at the man’s throat. His neck grasped firmly between his clawed hands, crushing it with a strength that was more than humanly possible. The man’s skin began to tear. “This is for what was done to my son, you demon bastard! This is for him!” The anger, which he had contained for so long, unleashed itself in a tremendous surge of power.

Steven’s fingers dug deep into the man’s muscle and tissue, gripping his spine. A mixture of blood and flesh oozed from between Steven’s fingers. With all his might, he pulled, yanking the man’s spine out of his body.

Rising to his feet, he held the grotesquely detached head and dangling spine in his hands.

The headless corpse slumped to the ground, spurting heavy streams of blood from broken arteries. Steven reveled in the momentary, mental victory.

With the mental death of his guard, the connection between the two warriors was broken. Steven found himself as before, kneeling upon the ground. Before him, the thousands of slaves were on their knees, bowing to the ground while as one they chanted, “Enki—Enki—Enki!”

His eyes sought out Ashlyn. She was beside Enlil and surrounded by the Elite Guard. The look upon Ashlyn’s face conveyed far more than he could immediately comprehend. He looked at Enlil and the guards standing around him. Their frozen stance only reinforced his confusion.

Steven turned around and looked behind him to see what the source of their distraction was. Only a short distance away, lay the decapitated body of one of Enlil’s Elite Guard. His head and spine lay grotesquely on the ground next to his fallen body. No one was more surprised than was Steven.

Issuing an order in his native tongue, Enlil commanded his guards to take Ashlyn inside the palace.

Enlil then gave the order for the guards to kill Steven. As the hundreds of guards around the square raised their weapons, Enlil turned away to follow Ashlyn inside.

When hundreds of shots rang out, Ashlyn broke away from the grasp of her guards. As she turned toward Steven, she froze, stunned by what she saw.

Enlil too, stood stunned.

Hundreds of laser blasts pummeled him without doing any damage.

Steven looked down, wondering how such a thing was possible. His bodily form flowed like liquid silver, freeing him from the collar and cuffs restraining him. His clothing ripped into shreds as long, black hairs began to grow upon his newly, forming limbs. His arms, legs, and body increased twenty fold as he grew to forty meters in height. And just like in the VDDs he’d watched as a kid, he became one of the most fearsome creatures he had ever seen as a child. He had become Kong.

Feeling immensely powerful, Steven leaned forward on his long arms, bracing his stance upon his knuckles. He let out a shattering roar, baring his fangs. The whites of Kong’s eyes raged with anger, hatred.

Seeing the threat, Enlil changed too, taking his serpent form.

Charging across the square, Steven grabbed Enlil around the neck, trying to strangle him. Enlil twisted and squirmed in his grasp, until he loosed himself. The battle raged, Kong roaring and baring his teeth and Enlil as the serpent, hissing and displaying his long fangs.

Steven made a fist and slammed it down, trying to give Enlil a massive, crushing blow to his head. Enlil’s serpent form had the advantage of speed though, and as Enlil reeled back, Steven’s blow was left to strike the ground—where it shattered the white stone in the Citadel.

Steven let loose a savage growl. It seemed to be a natural accompaniment to his embodiment of Kong. The square became an arena, an arena in which two titans fought to decide the fate of humanity.

Enlil’s coils managed to wrap themselves around Steven’s legs, tightening second by second. Steven’s powerful hands grabbed at the churning snake, but as quickly as he could remove one coil, another replaced it. Even as he landed a blow to the snake’s head, though stunned, Enlil’s grip around him tightened.

Steven, it’s no use. He is too experienced. He’ll crush you,
said Ash by way of the meld.
Steven, how did you change?

Between blows, Steven thought about her question. He remembered focusing on wanting more strength to break his bonds. It was an image of a movie that he had focused on—a movie he had seen but once as a kid. A movie where Kong had freed himself from massive chains. He wondered if it could be as simple as picturing a mental image and having the desire to want it to happen?

Focus! Concentrate on becoming what you want. Feel it! Want it!

Steven managed to grab Enlil’s wriggling body just below the head. His body was almost completely encased within the squeezing coils; only his arms remained free to hold the snake’s fangs at bay. Steven opened his jaws wide and with a huge growl to pump adrenaline into his body, sank his teeth deep into the nearest of the broad coils about his chest.

He bit deep, tearing at Enlil. Disgustingly bad tasting fluids spurted into Steven’s mouth. Steven tore off a chunk, and then spit it upon the ground. The serpent roiled, churning violently. Their struggle toppled them over into the great wall, which gave way under their force and weight.

Steven felt as though he were falling in slow motion as they tumbled toward the ground six stories below, where they hit with a quaking forcefulness.

Beneath Steven, a clump of fleeing humans scrambled to get away. Steven put his arm out, forming a bridge over them. A heavy snorting blow of air from Steven’s nostrils toppled the people over as they escaped under his armpit. Enlil’s weight atop him was massive and Enlil used the time to get the advantage.

Enlil had managed to get a coil around Steven’s neck, and he was tightening it.

Struggling desperately to free himself, from somewhere in the distance, Steven heard the screaming roar of a large, jungle cat. His large, black eyes caught a glimpse of Ashlyn leaping through the air, four sets of outstretched razor sharp claws, ready for battle.

Nice choice, my lady!
said Steven to her in the meld.

Thank you, my lord!

Muscles taut and rippling, Ashlyn landed squarely on top of the serpent’s head. The cat’s claws sliced through his scales and deep into the fleshy tissue beneath. Ash threw her head back and then brought it forward, sinking her two, large fangs into him. Ashlyn had succeeded in using the Gift. Her saber-tooth cat was magnificent.

The serpent’s hold loosened, enabling Steven to throw off coil after coil. Ashlyn’s cat was tossed off as the serpent managed with great effort to fling her aside. Rolling over, now completely free, Steven crouched, resting on his knuckles and haunches. In a single bound Ashlyn leapt to his side.

They stood in a face off—but even as they watched, Enlil’s wounds were already beginning to heal.

“How do we defeat him?” said Ash.

The serpent laughed at her question. His tongue lashed out toward them in a taunt.

Steven’s thoughts were of Phillip and of what this monstrosity had done to him. His adrenaline surged and his rage grew as he recalled his son’s torturous cries.

Steven shifted into the thing that had terrified him the most as a child. He’d had recurring nightmares of a sword-wielding soldier made of bronze, sixty meters tall. His strength and invulnerability were limitless.

His body grew and hardened into that of Talos. His bronze chest rippled with musculature. His sandaled feet spread taking an aggressive posture. He hefted the sword in his hand and swung it, getting a feel for its weight. With every movement, the familiar, grinding squeak that had frequented his every movement reverberated shrilly through the air.

Ash changed back into her human form.

The serpent dissolved, liquefying. The chunk of tissue that Steven had spit out, like water running downhill, flowed across the ground. Having rejoined with Enlil, he began to take form into—