The Battle for New Millennium
Chapter 13: Siege
Jackson Girard blindly groped the wall and made his way down the hall of the Department of Paranormal Activity. He had come here after being nearly killed by Tzu Lee after being tortured by what he can only describe as an upper echelon demon. He knew that the DPA was a front of The Post from his deceased trainer, Julian, and he would be safe once he was inside their walls. Now that the power was out he could see where he erred.
Jackson’s recovery was quick. He knew of reiki and its healing abilities. He had become a master of his own body in this regards under the of tutelage Julian. While in the care of the DPA nurses, he focused his chi into his body and used that focused chi to help aid in the healing of his various wounds. His pride needed it more than anything else.
They took him, bound him, humiliated, and tortured him. When they were done, the Tzu brothers took him and made him fight for his freedom. A freedom they didn’t plan on giving him whether or not he won the fight against the now dead monster in man-flesh, Tzu Lee. He was forced to poison and kill Lee to earn his freedom. Lee’s brother, Son, had no chance of beating Jackson. Jackson left him in the very same cell they kept him in to either rot or be found by his demonic masters.
Jackson did this in the name of vengeance and did not feel the slightest pang of guilt.
The world was no longer in black and white for Jackson Girard. Since the day he put on his mask, he had beaten bullies, drug dealers, rapists, and other sinners. He had gotten mixed up into a drug ring serving demonic masters and selling demon’s blood. On the street they called it Sin. Jackson couldn’t think of a more fitting word.
Now he was in the heart of The Post. Most thought of The Post as some kind of relic of the Dark Times. When the world recovered from the brink of armageddon, The Post remained vigilant as the rest of the world opted to forget. This was something Julian would say often, but Jackson never put much thought into these statements. Now he knew them to be fact.
The scene in the DPA wasn’t exactly pandemonium, but it wasn’t calm either. Those who seemed to have some kind of purpose ran around with green glowing sticks or candles. It was clear that the power to the building was not only shut off, but nothing electronic would work either. It took the better part of a half hour for Jackson to find his way out of the building.
Once outside, Jackson noticed the lights in all of the buildings were off. The city was blackened, save for the red glow that was emanating from somewhere in the city. Jackson followed that glow. He felt as if the city needed his help.
Mayor Louis looked out his large window into the darkness of New Millennium. Fires were beginning to spring out around the red glow that emanated from the heart of his city. Smoke billowed into the skies as demons poured fourth in order to bring about a repeat of the Dark Times he claimed were falsified on many occasions, but he knew a truth he kept to himself.
“It is beautiful,” the voice of Damien Geist said from the opposite side of the office. “I always dreamed seeing the Night of The Demon to fruition.”
“What do you want?” Mayor Louis asked, turning from the window.
“Is that any way to speak to your associate?” Geist asked.
Mayor Louis shrunk in his chair. It was true that he had struck a bargain with Geist to help put The Post off its game while he made his plans in the city, but Louis was told that he would be able to swoop in and become a hero. It seemed now that he had been lied to.
“What are you?” Mayor Louis asked.
“What am I?” Damien Geist asked. “I am what you fear the most, Mayor Louis. I am the rider in black. The legion of death. The harbinger of the Dark Times returned. Call me what you will. Any fearful title you can think of is apt.”
“Demon,” Louis gasped. “So it’s all true!”
“Yes,” Geist crooned. “Now you see who you traded your city to. Not me, but the legion behind me. The portal is open and the city is ours. I came to end our short association.”
Mayor Louis looked stupidly into the grinning face of Geist.
“Do not act as if you do not know what this entails,” Geist said, removing a large knife from his the inside of his jacket. The hilt looked as if it were made of bone, and the metal blade looked as if it were surrounded by black flesh. It may have been a trick of the red light, but it looked as if the flesh around the blade was moving. “I have other business to attend to on this night. It would be best to get this over with quickly.”
Mayor Louis fell backwards out of his chair and slunk against he wall. “No!” he screamed. “Not like this!”
“Please,” Geist said, approaching the cowering mayor of New Millennium. “I could have sent one my associates to dispatch you, as I have others, but I paid you the respect of doing this myself. You can at least be curtesy and die with your dignity intact. You helped to doom your city. Do not pretend as if you do not deserve this fate.”
The mayor’s body wouldn’t obey him as Geist approached. He kicked his feet as his bladder let loose. Geist promised him glory as they planned to attack the airport. He promised that he’d be held up as the hero of New Millennium after shutting down that Post outfit keeping the city pure of its influence.
“So be it,” Geist said as he inched the blade towards Mayor Louis’ throat. “Die as a coward.”
Damien Geist left when his job was done. His flesh and bone blade was saftely concealed once again, whispering its wisdom into his dark soul. He met his female compatriot, Arhea, on the other side of the Mayor’s office door.
“Did it go well?” Ahrea asked.
“It is done,” Geist said. “The Mayor of these wretched people is no more.”
“That is good,” Ahrea said. “What is our next move?”
“We wait,” Geist said, walking down the hall towards the outside. The hall was black, but he was able to see as if were the brightest of days. “Kasayda Kiz has been successful thus far.”
“You sound disappointed,” Ahrea said.
“Do I?” Asked Geist.
“Are you not jealous that Kasayda Kiz was chosen to bring about the Night of the Demon?” Ahrea asked.
“I am not,” Geist said, giving Ahrea a sideways look. “The Night of the Demon was an inevitability. I wish I had a bigger part to play, this is true, but I am content fulfilling my master’s plans. I will wait and see how Kiz fairs.”
“And what of the human actor?” Ahrea asked. “He knows much about you, does he not?”
“He has already gone to The Post,” Geist said, leaving City Hall. “It is no matter. I have sent Abe to kill him. I shall deal with The Post when I am ordered to do so. Until then, we wait.”
Jackson made his way to the heart of the battle. Men in riot gear and body armor were shooting into the oncoming demons. Demons flew past or into the fray, killing as the went along. The more bullets bit into demon flesh, the more came from the glowing, red portal. It was like nothing Jackson would ever hope to experience. On a movie set or off.
Suddenly, Jackson felt powerless without a weapon. He still had his skills as a martial artist, but these demons were armed with swords, spears, and shields. He even saw one or two with a mace. He didn’t have a gun like the men fighting off the hoard of demons on the streets of New Millennium.
Jackson found a demon corpse with two bullet holes in its head. He reached down and took its weapon. It was a large spear. Jackson didn’t use the spear often, but he was trained in the use of one. He swung it once around him to get used to the balance of it. The tip was a jagged piece of metal. He thought of the ugliness of it, but decided that the demon that had once used it would rather have maimed than decorate.
The chance to use the spear came quickly as a winged demon descended on him from above. He jabbed the spear forward, into the stomach of the oncoming demon. He swung the spear to the right, smashing his victim into the brick wall of a building. He let the demon fall to the ground dead.
Jackson ran towards the battle, hoping to be of some use whether in life or death. Before he could make it, he was pulled backwards, crashing through a large glass window. He got up swiftly, still clutching his spear. He looked around to see who had dragged him in. An Asian man in a black trench coat slowly stepped through the broken window.
“We finally meet,” the man said. “I am Taiki Abe. They call me The Black Plague, but I despise the name.”
“What do you want?” Jackson asked.
“I’ve been paid to bring the demons your head,” Abe said. “And I never renege on a deal.”
“You work for demons?” Jackson asked. “I’ve never heard anything so pathetic! When they are finished taking this city they’ll cast you aside! Join me and aid the eradication of these beasts!”
“Pathetic?” Abe asked. “You fight a battle you cannot win.” The hidden blade under his left sleeve came out with a twitch of his hand. “When the demons take the city, they’ll remember who helped them.” The blade in Abe’s right hand extended as well. “They’ll remember Taiki Abe as a friend and ally. They paid me for your head, and I do not renege on my deals. I will not repeat myself again.”
The streets of New Millennium were filled with death. The Wolves sprayed the demons with bullets, painfully aware that they were running low on ammo. Those that had run out had begun fighting with swords and other weapons they picked off the ground. Those that didn’t, were killed.
The Wolves were starting to be pushed back as demons spilled from the red portal. They were losing men and women too quickly, and the steady stream of demons seemed to be endless. When all seemed to lost, the people of New Millennium came to the rescue.
They came out of alleys and buildings. They were armed with chains, crowbars, hammers, or whatever they could find. A precious few had handguns, which were quickly unloaded and discarded. The Wolves’ numbers quickly doubled as the people of the city stood up for themselves.
Rock Judge watched as a demon was brought down by a thug with a thick metal chain. Once downed, the rest of the gang stomped the demon until it was dead. They repeated this action on another. Another group of thugs, armed with aluminum baseball bats, were busy knocking out demons and taking them out for good once they were on the ground.
“Where do you want us?” someone asked behind Rock, recognizing him as the leader of the assault on the demons. He held a sledgehammer in one of his hands. He had a small army of gang members behind him, all in matching black shirts. Rock new that as the mark of the Marauders.
“Keep doing what you’re doing,” Rock said. “Don’t let a single one of them live.”
“Good deal,” the thug said, smiling at the prospect. They then went to work dismantling the demon’s one by one.
Jackson ducked a throwing blade. It stuck in the wall. If Jackson hadn’t trained his body to be faster than most, the blade would be protruding from his forehead instead. Another blade came flying his way, and he blocked it with his spear.
Abe was in the air, his trench coat billowing behind him like a cape. The red light behind him making him look a hellish sight. His blades flashed out as he slashed at Jackson. He ducked the blades and jumped backwards, not knowing how much room he’d have to move.
Jackson knew he couldn’t stay on the defensive against someone as fast and deadly as Abe. He dropped the spear because it slowed him down. He lashed out with his fists, bringing them back to his body quickly so Abe wouldn’t cut them from his body. He backed of a blade that was dangerously close to this neck, and landed a front kick to Abe’s stomach that sent him back a couple of steps.
“You’re fast,” Abe said. “It has been long since I faced an opponent as good as you. It will make killing you that much sweeter.”
Jackson didn’t wait for Abe to make his move this time. He jumped on a table and came down with a spin kick that connected to Abe’s jaw. Jackson then gave himself some room between the two to formulate some kind of plan to end this fight. He didn’t dare stay too close to those blades. Abe moved quick enough to end Jackson’s life if he wasn’t careful.
Abe’s left armed moved, and the blade that was there was out of it’s sheath. It flew through the air towards Jackson. He moved to the right just in time. The blade left a red cut on Jackon’s cheek as it passed its head and became imbedded in the wall behind him.
Abe was on the attack again, despite Jackson’s want to stay away. He only had his right arm blade out now, but it seemed to be his stronger arm. It took every ounce of chi that Jackson could muster to keep his body moving away from the blade.
Jackson’s injuries from his previous battles were coming back to him. His reiki repaired what it could, but he was far from one hundred percent as his legs and thighs started to ache as he moved to dodge Abe’s blade. His shoulders started to grow sore as he lashed out at Abe, only to meet air. It would only be a matter of time before something seized or cramped, and Abe would take advantage.
More throwing blades whizzed through the dark air from Abe’s left hand. Jackson was able to dodge two of them, but the third found its mark in his right shoulder. He winced in pain, refusing to yell. Abe did as expected, and attacked from the left, where Jackon’s wouldn’t move as quick thanks to the injury.
The blade was embedded deep in Jackson’s muscle. He knew if he pulled it out it would scrape the bone. Now that he was injured and Abe was not, there was little chance he would survive this fight.
The 6th Street Marauders were on the attack. Their gang boasted over fifty members, but tonight they were joined by twice that. It seemed their rivals, The Black Bones, had united with them as they killed the demons that had entered their city. Their leader, Tyrone Biggs, thought some kind of olive branch might be extended if they ever survived the night.
The red light shone off Tyrone’s dark, black skin, slick with sweat and blood. His large muscles ached under his black jersey. He had seen his brothers in arms cut down in front of him as he swung his sledgehammer onto another demon’s head. Its skull shattered with a thud, and the large demon fell to the ground. When Tyrone looked up, he saw something that stopped his heart.
A demon easily twice the size of the ones they were having trouble taking down came towards them, breathing fire from its mouth. It was lighting buildings on fire as it went and stomping into any human that it came across.
“What are we going to do?” Spooky, Tyrone’s second, asked. He looked like he was in worse shape than Tyrone.
“I ain’t backed down from a fight yet,” Tyrone said. He raised his hammer above his head and ran. Marauders and Black Bones followed suit with their own weapons raised, unafraid of the fifteen foot tall demon.
The demon was caught unawares. Tyrone slammed his sledge into the demon’s knee. It howled in pain, releasing a torrent of yellow and orange flames into the sky. It fell when the others attack its other knee. Once he was on the level with the bangers, they began to beat the demon about its head. It lashed out with one last torrent of flame, easily killing ten or more who were unfortunate enough to be in front of its gaping mouth. Tyrone raised his hammer once more, and brought it down into the demon’s skull. It fell to the ground and died.
Tyrone rested his large, gore-covered sledgehammer on his muscular shoulder. He was near exhaustion, but the night was far from over. Those Wolves were holding the demons at bay for them most part, but they were beginning to fall. More demons were getting past them and into the city than dying. Tyrone refused to give up until he was dead or every last demon was killed.
He turned and began walking towards the red light once more. His men followed.
Flames erupted through the front of the building as Abe lunged at Jackson. He was momentarily distracted by this, and Jackson took advantage by twisting this body, catching Abe’s right arm, and twisting it violently. He felt and heard the pop that meant he was successful in dislocating his shoulder. Abe screamed out in pain as Jackson let him fall to the floor.
Jackson needed to move quickly now, despite the pain in his own shoulder. He landed a knee to Abe’s left thigh, further injuring him. He then swept Abe’s legs, tripping him into the wall. Abe was landed into his own blade, which protruded from the wall. It pieced his back, came through from his abdomen.
Abe tried to rise, but he couldn’t due to his dislocated shoulder and the blade in his stomach. He struggled to rise and grunted as the blade cut him further. He’d die suffering unless someone would come along.
Jackson approached the struggling Abe, determined to show mercy despite his opponent’s nature. “Get out!” Abe shouted. “I do not need aid from my target! I will not be shamed by accepting your hand!”
The fire continued to spread. The wall behind Abe was now in flames. The building was ready to collapse “You’ll die!” Jackson shouted.
“Leave me!” Abe replied, the flames now enveloping him. He screamed as he burned. The ceiling came crashing down, and Jackson was forced to run out before he was crushed as well. He exited to the streets of New Millennium, where a war was being waged.