Forsaken Ch. 04

Story Info
Searching among the lost.
5.3k words
3.5
8.6k
00

Part 4 of the 4 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 10/17/2004
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

BB lay between awake and sleep, her thoughts on this dream, this wish that now cuddled beside her. His heat warming her chill soul, and his caress resurrecting ancient memories filling her blissfully in a passionate embrace: Love. To feel as he felt, secure in his arms free from the lonely, empty cold she held the memory living the dream. Drawing him closer she nuzzled playfully, bringing her lips to his: Igneous embrace. The kiss granting her wish as in this gentle exchange of tasting his breath and living his thoughts as he breathed them: Minds eye theater. Only here in the deepest reaches of his mind he was revealed. The dream that haunted her, the beast that stalked this urban jungle drinking the souls of all, she saw him at the mercy of himself: Tortured.

BB cried in his mind, the shock cast visible waves across his conscience warping and twisting the boundaries sending this overwhelming flood crashing down. Distorting the borders; man and beast became one. A grand angel beautiful and feral, proud in a seemingly grand perfection yet disturbed was he. These two natures bound in conflict, desperately seeking resolve in combat.

Raven lunged from the bed as thunder erupted, moving among the darkness rather than through it, he was gone with only the creak of a doorknob to mark his passing. BB sat in shock, crimson tears gathered, staining her pale cheeks, the legend was true now her dreams revealed. Joy and sorrow clashed bringing rise to fear, she felt helpless and more alone than ever before. But this time was different; in the dark nothingness she had found hope and with his tenderness remembered love. BB ran to tell Dakota, unable to conceal this rush of emotion and proud she could still express it so.

BB ran down the corridor in a rush of excitement, almost throwing herself at Dakota's door. She knocked and calling to him in frantic dismay she bore no patience for delay, "Dakota! He's gone, Dakota."

Dakota awoke startled by this sudden explosion thundering violently. His first thought was someone attacked his home but as the rumble continued to roll he relaxed a bit, taking a deep breath. The moment didn't last as he could hear BB wailing in the hall before attacking his door. Fear clutched at him as he raced to investigate.

She was knocking as he worked the lock, the door flung open and he stopped dumbfounded to see BB with a smile, tears of blood welling in her eyes. The tears painted crimson ribbons at the corners of her eyes. Dakota had never before witnessed such depth and compassion from her, and stood staring unaware as how to respond. BB wrapped her arms around him in a big hug, holding her whole self pressed against him.

"He done it real. He gone to fight, and bring the legend true. We saw it in his mind, an angel, he has come." She sobbed resting her head on Dakotas's chest.

He comforted her as she poured this tangle of emotions too potent for confinement; he listened leading her to the sofa downstairs. He was curious to hear this tale and determine this dream in which she was so consumed. But he was unprepared for what was to come, for until this moment he had never truly known this ageless child. In the two decades in which he had known her, always was she carefree and untroubled. Seemingly unaffected by the troubles plagued by immortal existence, she processed a sweet innocence in boundless joy. To see her this way, be-stilled his heart! He offered her his flannel pajama shirt, which she pulled over her head. The garment swallowed her supple form hanging nearly to her knee and granted her a sense of stability. BB snuggled in the vast expanse of material feeling Dakotas warmth trapped in the soft cotton; smiling she wrapped her arms around his neck. He embraced her trembling form, stroking hair from her face as he kissed her forehead, feeling an eerie contrast. Though burning with emotion her pale skin remained cold and he was harshly reminded of the bitter facts.

BB flopped onto the sofa and huddled in the flannel now stained with her tears. She pulled her knees to her chest and all but disappearing in the shirt, gathered her composure as other members of the house wandered in to investigate. She greeted each as they entered and offered to recite the legend in which her nightmares based themselves. BB began to explain her dreams to a gathered crowd, her voice still weak; she stated what just she had witnessed.

"He was flying, a Raven upon the breeze staring down at a dark city, brooding with hatreds, infected by suffering and ready to burst. A fountain of emotional chaos and self-destruction, he witnessed the fall of Heaven and the rise of Hell as demons moved armies of undead in a crusade to exterminate the living. The gods themselves waged bitter war upon the land with only the mercy of Wrath to still them; as creation turned on itself, murders rising dark clouds above the ash and smoke. Mercy pushed the hordes back into the pits. A grand angel equal among the gods this instrument of judgments, he opened his wings pulling them close around him."

***

She carried the child clinging tightly to her shoulders, with the powerful stranger she rescued for the second time. Feeling her debt repaid for his aid in her quest not so long ago, she carried them among the dark shadows moving unnoticed among the police and the gawking crowds. Taking them to sanctuary before the dawn's grand and fatal glory could crest the shimmering towers. The child slipped from her back to rest in a makeshift bed, watching intently as their guest sprouted great feathery wings and formed a kind of cocoon. Her guardians slipped into the depths; shattering the fragile barriers of reality and, with his transformation, she understood the world could never be the same.

Great rifts opened across the heavens as lightning flashed and thunder crashed. The earth trembled under the heaven's fury, black clouds rolled violently, blotting out the sun and the gods quaked. Angels and demons wailed, their mourning voices carried forcefully upon angry winds striking fear at the soul of creation.

Tara, high priestess to Lilith and charged to guide the protection of this divine child, was afraid. Hearing the frail wind bourn voices wail in the presence of Judgment, she felt the weight of her sins like never before, crushing under the burden of centuries. The child reminded her of the present; this moment held the fates suspended under the strain of a single thread. Tara moved by a force not her own; kneeling beside him, she caressed his wings apart and reached into his jacket for a crystal vial of blue flame. She stared in awe at the dancing aura trapped in purest quartz; shining like fire, burning iridescent blue and illuminating the chamber. She carefully removed the golden cork. With a tender caress she brushed the gory mane from his face. He opened his eyes and curled his lips into an affectionate smile, guided the vial to his lips and drank.

***

BB jumped in her seat as thunder erupted with unnatural force, shaking the foundations of the world, causing her delicate ears a deafening ring. Though, she was not the only one disturbed by this terrible explosion, all which gathered in this rich chamber felt chilled by it, shaken by some yet undetermined fear. She counted them, a shape-shifter stood in the archway to the living room, while the other vampires sat near the very sexy magick user as they exchanged thoughts. She had always harbored desires to be with him, aware of the impossibility of such action. His name, Adrian of Twilight, the vampires she remembered as of the Chaos clan, but she thought of them as goof balls for how they ranted. Her thoughts drifted gazing upon Mick, the werewolf shivered, his pained features grim with dreadful fright. A sorrowful mourning whimper escaped his throat; so faint as a lesser whisper, afraid of the sound. Dakota, she noticed held the same suffering in his stormy eyes, he remained firm but teetering on the verge of collapse. Guilty she was, of contempt, as she felt a rushing excitement, the world they knew, the perception of reality among the collective consciousness fumbled on the brink of catastrophic upheaval, and she tingled with anticipation.

"The chronicle as it recited to me," BB began her voice ringing gleefully despite her efforts at control. "My master told me that long ago Lilith, mother to all our kind, met the angel lost in his despair. Judgment sat crying, alone in the wastes asking why. Lilith felt his woe, and sat to explain. Having eaten the fruit of knowledge and drank the fountain of wisdom she taught him emotion. This angered the gods upon his return, because he was created equal among them and now he was more than they. The gods afraid, because this angel was appointed Wrath of Judgment now had feelings. A machine crafted for destruction could now experience pleasure in his job. The gods cast him out of the heavens, and the hells closed their gates to him. He was forsaken by all the things he knew, and fell asleep; a mortal until the time when gods would call; he did. Returned he has, the sleeper wakened, only now he damaged the barriers. When he slept as a mortal he forgot what it was, now he awake and still in possession of flesh when he remembered, so what was hidden shall be revealed and since, he, a god more or less he could crash the world. Making the gods stand next to mortals, anarchy and Armageddon would surely destroy everything in creation, if he desires. But who can know the will of the gods, in fear they could open the gates of Hell abandoning us all to fate, then what hope could there be. But in my dream, the angel rescues me and fights the dark hordes of oblivion, merciful wrath battling to save us all." She paused working a comfortable groove in the cushions, looking at the somber eyes of all those in attendance. She understood the fear that gripped them, but felt their emotion wasted, far more terrible things waited in the shadows.

She smiled unable or unwilling to repress her excitement and said, "Either way after tonight the world has changed. We can only make do with what is becoming, we can't change it."

"Now is the time of judgment, when the angel learned emotion, he was subjected to rage, guilt, and sorrow but there was a catch: Sin. Regret is the sin of immortals; the guilt we harbor lingers through the generations. From the first stone cast ripples upon the surface of time, it was our kind, the damned that brooded, spreading our sins across the world. Unable to feel as mortals after that dark embrace, hatefully contempt in this forever lonely experience, our kindred loathed what they had become and hated mortals just the same. A tenderness only captured in life, lost in our moment of weakness as from the beginning, the one with sin cast the first stone in. The guilt of regret a heavy stone to bear, we drown now in the pool of our own tears. Suspended in shadows for all eternity, bound to mortal coil, trapped as we are unchanged throughout the ages. Watching jealously events unfold, helpless to influence the sands of fate we lack in observing the toils of Life".

***

Raven softly shut his eyes letting himself go in the overpowering bliss of sweet intoxication. His wings moved mechanically sealing his embrace and together they plunged into oblivion. A single mind between them, Tara would be his guide through the countless centuries, teaching this divine immortal the truth already known. The child sat still, gliding into a position of meditation, observing the transformation, she focused her will upon the bond processed over the priestess. With mortal emotions they would discover what it was they learned and revisit the forgotten tragedies imprisoning that life and masking the depth of aware perception. With Tara as his link to reality, he descended into the void, going back to his moment of weakness and doubt. The images vividly displayed and washed in grief as Raven remembered his demise, watched helpless as he refused heaven turning his back on his creators. Blood stains and gore matted thick upon fine armor, his lungs tasting the acrid clouds of sulfuric ash and smoke. Raven laid waste to the world, his acts of genocide conquering the foes and heretics at his masters' desired request. Lightning flashed blinding, intensity searing his flesh, he fell wracked by pain and when he stood once more his world had changed, trapped in mortal flesh and bound in fate. All because he questioned the authority and reason of such total devastations; feeling pity for those smitten in wrath. Whose crimes he could not know, and sins he did not understand. His thoughts lingering on those countless deaths by his hand, feeling Tara's presence as she wept, offered mild comfort to his pains. Raven was guided through the ages of his memory, the torment of emotion uncovered and, he, at last understood. His flesh crawled uncomfortably, as if worms moved through his body, but was forgotten as he felt fangs at his throat. Moving without thought he kissed Tara's shoulder, fangs biting deep into her naked flesh. Blood and memories passed together through them, granting each the powers they yet required. Her blood cold as death passed sweetly over his palate bringing fires into his body surging with strength and power he never before knew. The same as his blood passed into her. Together these two now one, in deaths gentle embrace. Remaining untouched, yet now forever changed; these gods embraced love, drinking from the fountain of wisdom and took their rightful ranks. Mercy quaked.

Demons howled at the door, fists hammering, buckling the metal door. Hinges groaned and the single lock strained, a child cried out seeking protection. Darkness roused as shadows parted in great molten wings. Tara stood with blood still dripping from her lips and the bite on her collar. Her eyes glazed in unseeing stare, pale skin darkened and she stumbled shocked from that transpired. The cold shrill of metal ripping, the thunder of angry fists and dreadful screams summoned the dark to gather. The shadows drew intensity against the far wall blocking all view that side of the room. A gentle sigh whispered beneath the air, darkness parted revealing this new creature. Born a mighty angel charged in delivering the Wrath of gods, yet bound helpless to understand the complexities and disciplines in this human existence. Awaken the Dreaming God, master of all that can ever be known. Appearing from the shadow, he stood tall, defiantly against the unknown, this man now changed weapon drawn. A sick, urgent expression, grim on his strained features. Blood stained his lips and neck though not a single drip now shed, his eyes focused but distantly, confused as to respond. The child gasps a rasping wheeze; the door exploded inward warping the frame.

In the gloom of this violent disruption, eyes glared cold with bloodthirsty aggression. A weapon banished in the dim outside light, talons wrapped the pommel. Raven snarled deep in his throat cursing this foul interruption and stepped forward to meet this intruder. Their eyes meet through the haze, the demon flinched drawing back before advancing, Raven smiled, lifting his sword. A glimmer whispered across the light and a sword clattered to the tile, the talon fingers still gripping it unfazed. Bitter the shrill that wracked the dreadful silence as the demon wailed; dark fluid escaped the ghastly wound. The creature stepped back gnashing teeth as another emerged to replace the first. Allowing no quarter, Raven struck a deadly blow; infuriated by such cowardice and disrespect, his sword severed the head in single merciful blow. With such precision, for a moment it seemed suspended, delayed, until the creature flinched, did the halves fall. The predecessor leaped into battle spear jabbing the tile where Raven once stood, and recognized his failure before crumbling to three parts. The stranger turned buckling the gory broad sword to his waist, no hint of emotion displayed upon his face or manner. Tara was recovering from her transformation, seeing what just she had just witnessed. Afraid of what she did not see in this hero. Even the child now trembled nervously.

***

BB noticed that Adrian sat listening to something distant, despite the argument waging at hand she smiled to herself. He could hear it, the battle, and she knew it, so was jealous of his acute abilities. How she so desired to hear the choir singing, she whispered a question only to him across the stammering crowd and asked, "Is it really as grand?"

Adrian smiled looking into those deep green eyes, and sorrow filled his gaze as tears flowed down his cheeks. It was true he could hear the angels sing, the gods' quake and it brought a heavy burden weighted in nervous agony. The chorus was beautiful, more so than anything in human reason, but the price also grand. He whispered a prayer folding his hands together and went into the kitchen. BB followed, discreetly moving among the argument; she was unnoticed. In the kitchen Adrian fixed a drink of rum and coke and said, "The world begins to crumble as the gods in fear open the gates; abandon us to fate. They shall come to regret the error of their ways. The sleeping god has awakened and now we are all at the mercy of the merciless. Pity and compassion are lost and I fear none shall survive this transgression. We stand in judgment not as the sons and daughters of creation but as a whole of monsters. Regardless what happens from here on out, things shall never be the same size again."

***

Tara balanced drunkenly against the broken doorframe, her stare fixed upon this hero. He moved with mechanical grace, fluid and measured his actions as he gathered his things and searched the bodies of his victims. The child, she noticed held a blank expression trembling under the thin quilt wrapped loosely about her tiny frame. Her blood boiled, bronzing her pale flesh, shock wracked her nerves, and for the first time in centuries a pulse thundered deafening in this eerie stillness. She envisioned twisting shadows flowing among the dark places, silently possessed and horrifying to behold. Monsters from some nightmare loose upon the world wicked and foul, her eyes moved scanning the outside world suspended anticipating the dawn. Yet she could not sense the rising sun and no hint marked the sky.

Raven placed his hand gently upon her arm, capturing her full attention forcing her to respond. "It's so…" She started, but thunder exploded ripping apart the heavens, fiery sparks rained down. The earth began to shudder; she fell staring at the sky and watched angels sing. Rifts and broad chasms opened under the strain, the city threatened to crumble, and Raven stood unflinching no trace of concern. He lifted her into his arms and together they held the child. Tara cried, unable to accept what she knew to be true, real tears burned her face.

***

All in the house fell still at the sudden eruption; BB grabbed Adrian running into the den. Dakota sat with his friend, they were alone the vampires gone with only the smell of pipe smoke in their wake. Dakota held a drink in his hand, and it appeared he was about to speak a toast when the house shook violently. Mick cursed as his drink spilled, a sudden clarity struck each of them with his vulgar sincerity. The old house held firm, though a bit rattled as the tremor lasted but for a moment. Adrian went still, his flesh growing cold as he fell into a trance. His voice rumbling with a deepening power as Adrian began reciting terrible narratives of the events that he alone seemed to perceive. BB still grasps his wrist, an unwilling witness captured in that trance as she flowed among the fearsome tide apart inside his mind. The world as collective perception strained and buckled rejuvenating a stagnated decayed existence. A violent upheaval erupted in chaos as the masses cried out panicked, unprepared for the rebirth of time. Light broke the darkness cascading long rays across the lands, patches of hope fought for purchase under the crashing tide. Under the torment of commotion, a whimper began to grow, flowing out from the deep. Growing to a voice though still faintly pale, spoke a tender child. This all could hear; Dakota and Mick both paused to listen, as too did the frightened crowds. Moving among the still air this pale echo captured attention, silencing all in fear enduring merciful hope with acceptance.

12