Transcendancy Ch. 02

Transcendency 2: Chaos

These characters aren't mine, well, Gabriel is, but he's about the only one. Okay, just some considerations. I'd stalled on something to follow up with Transcendency, and I'm a bit fan of a lot of the Image Comics stuff. So if you've seen John Carpenter's Vampires and are familiar with Image Comics lines The Darkness, Tomb Raider, Witchblade and the Magdelena character's one shots, you'll enjoy this a lot more. I'm hoping though, that you don't need them to enjoy it. So I borrowed (stole) but plagiarism is the trust form of literary compliments, apparently, so there you go. The Magdelena is the property of Image and Top Cow. Jack Crowe and Adam Guiteau are characters out of James Carpenter's Vampires, and as such, they're not mine. They're just the perfect characters for this story. Oh, and I guess credit has to go to Len Wiseman, Kevin Greateaux and Danny (sorry mate, can't remember your name!) for the whole werewolf-vampire hybrid concept which is of course from Underworld and Underworld Evolution, though mine's a bit different than theirs. Anyway, enjoy, and please let me know what you think, because the final part is very close to being finished.

Transcendency : Chaos.

It was absurd. They were the only two people in the entire forest. It was never going to work. He didn't even know where in the hell he was. He looked at the incredible woman standing stoically underneath an overhanging branch. She wore a monk's robe, split up the middle to act as a cloak around her amazonian form.

She wore gold and steel around her, but very little else. Deep red and black clothing, lined in gold, hugged her breasts, loins and limbs. Her shoulders were invitingly bare, as were her toned upper thighs and the slim, muscled midriff. She was incredible in a dozen, a hundred different ways. She wore detailed, ornate armour on her wrists, and shins, shining golden clasps showing crucifixes and other church insignia. Her sultry beauty outweighed her cloistered, religious appearance.

This one did not invite flirtation, however. Her eyes were a deep, vivid brown, but they were as hard and as cold as steel. A killer's eyes. She didn't watch him making the sword as much as she inspected and evaluated him.

Gabriel wasn't really used to it, and for the first time realised what it must feel like to an attractive woman walking into a room of hungry men. He wiped the sweat of his forehead, and she nodded towards the small pool welling up between a small mound of rocks off to the left. He left the cherry red hunk of metal and quickly dunked his head into the cold waters.

A shiver ran down his spine as the mountain waters chilled him, and he turned back, flicking his hair out of his eyes. She sat watching the metal and the anvil, and Gabriel sighed and moved back to the anvil and picked up the hammer. His bare chest felt tight, and he took a breath of cool air before slamming the hammer down onto the metal again.

Sparks flew up and he glanced aside to the other items she had given him. Another block of metal, a bottle of oil that was deep red, almost looking like wine, and a thin sliver of wood, a shaving of a plank. He looked up at her again and shook his head. She was incredibly beautiful, a stupefying beauty. For a moment he wondered if that was why she kept herself cloaked in the hooded robe.

She hadn't answered any of his questions. Three days ago, he'd been another kid on the streets, fresh out of an orphanage and put out into the world, regardless of his readiness. She had come for him then. She had walked up the street where he was looking for work and had stood in front of him.

And he knew.

She had turned and left, looking over her shoulder when he hadn't immediately followed. "Come." Her voice was soft, but as unwavering a tone could never be uttered. "You are needed." And he had gone. There had been no decision. He knew he would follow, and she had not bothered to ask or acknowledge. There was something strange about her, a connection between them that he couldn't put his finger on.

She pulled a bible out of her robe and began to read silently as Gabriel continued to pound the metal out flat. He reached over and flipped the page of the manuscript she had given him. It contained instructions in a language that he couldn't read, but could somehow understand. It was all too strange. He chanced another glance at her.

She really was incredibly beautiful. It wasn't a girl-next-door beauty, or the sultry availability of a vixen, or even the controlled aphrodisiac of a dominant corporate woman. She was ethereally beautiful, a beauty that not only caught the eye, but disturbed the soul. She was almost inhumanly perfect.

"You have questions." She startled him and the tongs holding the metal slipped as he slammed the hammer down again. She closed the book and crossed her legs beneath her, covering her coiled body in the smooth black folds of her robe. "You may ask."

Gabriel kept pounding the metal for a moment before he asked, gathering his thoughts. "Who are you?" She didn't move for several heartbeats, and Gabriel began to figure that this conversation was very, very important.

"Who am I?" she echoed in a far away voice. Her head tilted to the side, and a curl of her lustrous chocolate hair fell down to caress her cheek. "Do you mean what I am, or what I am called?" Gabriel fell into the monotony of forging, slamming the hammer down with regularity, feeling his body remember what his mind never knew.

"Your name, first. Then... what you are. I'm Gabriel." A small smile crossed her thick, red lips. Gabriel felt his heart pounding in his chest as he stared. "But then, you knew that probably before I did, didn't you?" Her head tilted up, and deep within the shadows of the hood, her eyes reassessed and considered.

"My name is Mariella. What I am is the Magdelana." He took that in as he kept hammering, turning the flat piece of metal under his hammer and beginning to shape it. He watched his hands as they confidently moved along the hammer's handle and flipped the metal for each hit, as though it was so ingrained into his system that he could do it in his sleep.

"One at a time, right?" She nodded, her eyes watching him. He kept his cool, despite his fears as his body acted out something he never could have thought of. He was a street-wise hustler and fighter, not a blacksmith. He didn't know where a blacksmith might even be these days. He always thought that they were welders. "What... am I, then?"

Her eyes widened slightly and then her mouth parted in a smile. Gabriel swallowed nervously as he tried to concentrate, against the image of her lips and the incredibly beauty of her. "You are impressive. Your soul remembers much. You are the Gharreck." He stopped pounding the metal to stare at it, the bright red of the glowing metal shaping in moments what surely was supposed to take hours.

Mariella held up her gloved hand. "The Gharreck is "Sword of God" in the Old Script, that language you are reading without knowledge. You are a nephalym... you were born from an earthly mother, but a heavenly father. An angel." Gabriel threw the hammer to the ground and stepped back away from the makeshift forge.

"You're forgetting your meds. I don't believe in angels." Mariella scoffed as she stood up.

"The Ghadhim do not rely on your belief to exist. Upon your conception, your father's soul passed on to you, gifting you with knowledge and power. His time was over, but his purpose was not. Lord Gabriel needed an heir to his throne." Gabriel put his hands up into his still damp hair and stared at her.

"Why do I believe you?" Mariella strode over to the small pool and stared up at the sky above it, the darkness surrounded by glittering stars of brightness. "Is this a trick? Why the hell do I believe anything you say to me? What are you doing to me?"

"Truth is a feeling, not a spoken word. You are the son of the Archangel Gabriel. Your soul remembers this; therefore you act as he acted. You craft your own sword this night, in preparation for what he knew you must do. The destiny of man relies upon you now. You will be fit for the task. If you are not, then it will not matter what destiny man's becomes." Gabriel stood up and moved over to her. He stared at her for a while until she turned to him.

"What's going on? I mean... why are you here?" She looked at his face for a long time, staring at him before she slowly pushed her hood off her head. Her hair fell free and cascaded down her face as she turned her features to the heavens. Gabriel felt his heart speeding up and thumping in his chest as he tried to look away, but her beauty was too much.

"Creatures... of this world are many and varied. Trouble arises on this world when creatures from other planes come and mix bloods. Abominations arise which the Creator cannot destroy, held in only by His own will. If He decided to destroy them, then He fears His wrath for the evils of mankind would bring about Armageddon. Werewolves, vampires, all the ghouls and goblins of terrified peasants brought out of the Dark Ages...?"

Gabriel waited as she trailed off, staring out into the night. She turned and gave him a soft smile, such a contradiction with the steel of her eyes, and gestured back at the anvil. Gabriel moved back to it and took up the hammer again, before he knew what he was doing. He pushed the metal back into the fire and watched it heating up.

"They're all real. And now suddenly, they've found a cause. For the longest time, the darkness of these creatures was offset by the light of humanity. They had their weaknesses, and they were able to be destroyed, after a fashion. Now..." She shuddered and pulled her robe around her closer as Gabriel began to smite the metal yet again. "Humanity has lost their light."

"Two creatures, wolves now, but born of vampires, have discovered the compounded strength present in those changed from Hominus Nocturna to Hominus Lupis. For millennia, the dark creatures battled each other, existed apart, or simply abstained from one another. Now, the wolves and the bloods battle together against a growing threat."

Mariella pulled the hood of her robe up over her head again, and sighed as she was enfolded in its dark warmth. "A new creature hierarchy is building. Man, calm momentarily in his boundless ignorance, has no idea of the war that rages. The battle between werewolves and vampires has turned from forgotten peace to a battle for survival. The new creatures are much stronger."

"For centuries, the daughters and sisters of the Magdelena have fought and killed for God. He has given us gifts of power and knowledge for this battle. And now, he has brought us you." Gabriel pulled up the other piece of metal and slid it into the fire. The flames, almost as if knowing they had to be hotter, changed to a deep blue, with flickering white lights deep within. The heat was intense, and Gabriel again wiped the sweat from his brow.

"So I'm making a sword to kill vampires and werewolves. Because I am the son of the Archangel Gabriel. And I can't believe I'm saying this. But I believe you. So why you? Why are you in this?" Mariella brought a small loaf of bread before her and broke it, crossing herself silently and tossing him a piece. She shrugged in the deep black of the hood, which hid her eyes and features.

"Destiny holds us all to her bosom, until her needs for us become apparent. My maternal grandmother many generations removed, fought for Christ himself against these creatures. Legend has it that Sarah was the Christ's own daughter, but I do not believe that. I believe that Christ himself saved my ancestor's soul, and she repaid him with a lifetime of service, killing in his name when his Heavenly father could not."

"The Sisters of the Order of the Magdelena have been walking this earth since then, the bloodied hand of righteous anger, slaying the kin of the Deceiver and laying out our lives against the enemies of our Lord God. There are things in the world that defy explanation, that transcend everyday wickedness and commonplace weakness of spirit. Things that are truly evil. And I and my sisters are the last, though not the only, line of defence against their wickedness."

Gabriel picked up the wood and the bottle of oil, and uncorked it. He ran his fingers over the dried wood, running over dark stains he could see in the light of the forge. "And this sword?" Mariella turned back to him and stepped slowly up to his side. Her fragrance washed over him, and Gabriel again felt his heart pounding in his chest.

"The steel will hold the blade, give it body and shape. The silver you now melt will part the spirits of the wolves from the carcasses your cleave. The oil is rose oil, squeezed from the last bush of wild roses I have found. Wild roses are poisonous to both werewolves and vampires, as nothing else, not even garlic, can be. The wood..." She ran her fingers along the ancient fibres, and lifted her deep eyes to Gabriel's.

"The wood is stained with Christ's own blood, being from the crucifix which took him to his resurrection. The dried skins in the barrel of holy water are from the donkey that carried Christ through Jerusalem. You make a weapon as holy as can be made in this day, by a man with little faith."

Gabriel scoffed as he slid the sheath of wood between the two pieces of metal and tried to keep his countenance when the wood didn't burn in the red-hot metal. He glanced back at Mariella, who watched him calmly. He poured the rose oil onto the metal, which didn't smoke or buckle, nor did the oil boil and simmer.

"What is this place?" Mariella gestured around to the small grove.

"We are outside of time, in the resting place. Here, lost souls wait to be collected by the Ghadhim. The magic and majesty of Christ himself is in this place. Things occur here which cannot occur in the world ruled by reason and science." She pulled a small dagger, a simple assassin's weapon, out of a sheath lying against her thigh, and began to shine and polish it.

"This dagger was my mother's. It killed the beast which took her life. Or so Cardinal Innocent spoke to me." She glanced up at Gabriel, who picked up an ornate handle, ready to combine the sword into one single piece of death. He didn't look at her, but she knew he had listened heartily at her moment of vulnerability.

"We have to train. I have answered your queries. Make the sword. We train." Gabriel plunged the joined sword, white-hot now, into the barrel. The animal skin steamed and hissed as the water boiled, and suddenly the barrel exploded into pieces. The skins were charred and smoked among the wreckage of the barrel.

Gabriel grimaced as he pulled a long slither of wood out of his thigh and sat up. Mariella watched him as he rubbed his leg, glaring at her, then stared in astonishment at his leg, which began to heal and close over the wound, leaving a small scar. She stood and picked up a pack, throwing it to him. A ringing sound came from within, and it was heavy as he caught it.

Gabriel picked up the sword and marvelled at it. The silver was worked through the blade in a twisting vine, with dark rubies spaced along it intermittently, shaped like roses. He set down the pack as Mariella watched him, and swung the sword through the air. It was slightly curved, tapering to a tip with a razor sharp edge. He didn't even want to touch the edge, but ran his thumb across it in helpless awe, feeling the hairline sharpness.

Mariella picked up another pack and handed it to him, unveiling a scabbard with an adjustable strap, for his hip or his back. Gabriel sheathed his sword reverently, and lifted it over his back and over his shoulder. The sword felt at home, and he turned back to the robed warrior woman as the rose scent from the rubies wafted on the slight breeze around them. "Ok. I'm a believer. Where do we start? Who are we after?"

********

Katrina ran through the bright lights of the street, hearing the thudding footsteps following her relentlessly. She glanced behind her, feeling fear give her body strength. She darted around a corner and crouched down into the shadows, staring in terror at the shadow looming on the wall. She watched and waited, silently hoping for a chance from whatever darkness had spawned her.

Her skin was cold, but that was not from the freezing air of the night. Her pale hazel eyes flickered to red and she began to grow her claws out. There was a rough breath and a laugh, and she could hear his heart beating loudly, defiantly.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..." His tone was low and mocking, as though he knew where she was. She turned, still keeping to the shadows, and began to pull herself up the side of the building, her claws digging into the mortar. "Katrina, honey... you're playing hard to get... tag with a werewolf is never a good idea..."

She shuddered at his tone and risked a peak around the corner. She was thirty feet in the air, and he was leaning calmly against the wall, directly around the corner from where she had hidden. He couldn't have been more than a foot from her when she started climbing. She pulled herself over the edge of the roof and turned around. Surely he had heard her climb? She eased herself over the side, to watch. He strode calmly into the alley and stood there, arms crossed, as though waiting.

Katrina frowned and looked up, but there was plenty of time until daylight, barely a third of the night had passed. She heard a whisper behind her and whirled, but gave a shriek as a clawed hand slashed down across her face. The vampire stumbled back, trying to change as she fell back into the alley.

She landed with a crash into the side of a dumpster, feeling the agony of her face burning in pain. Katrina could feel her bones resetting, healing from the dumpster's sudden stop, but her face wasn't healing. She brought a hand up to her face and shrieked again at it came away, covered in her freshly taken blood.

A low laugh echoed down the alleyway, and Katrina looked up, sighting the towering figure of a thickly muscled man in the shadows, who stepped forwards, bones crunching quickly as he changed into the werewolf. Katrina looked up as another werewolf, a female, landed in the alley from the building she had climbed up.

She twisted her head, not weakened in the least, only more dangerous as the she wiped the blood away, leaving only the gouged mess that was once her eye. She began to change as the blood seeped into her mouth, feeling her skin pale and toughen, and her eyes change to red. Her teeth lengthened and her wings sprouted as she struggled to her feet.

The male werewolf gave a low laugh and shook his head. "Relax, Katrina. You're about to be reborn, not killed." Katrina turned back to the other wolf, who leered at her and lunged. It was a feint though, and Katrina dodged back into the waiting arms of the man. The vampire turned around, ready to claw, when he slugged her. She sagged back to the ground, her gaze loose and unfocussed by a blow that would have shredded a truck.

Markus let the creature fall to the ground and watched Beth slowly transforming back into her human form. She was proud, her firm breasts jauntily thrust out, her figure strong and confident. She straddled the vampire and tilted her head up, mouthing her neck softly. Katrina's eyes rolled back into her head as she slumped, lifeless to the ground.

Beth moved her leg between the vampire's and began to rub, feeling the cold wetness of the vampire beneath her torn skirt. She turned her head, glancing over her shoulder as Markus moved up behind her. The hunt always got him ready, the chase was to Viagra what the planet was to an ant. She could feel his cock weeping cum already as he pushed inside of the fallen vampire.