Deep Into That Darkness Peering- Part Ten by: Enemyoffun Ryan Roth is a college freshman with a good life. He has a great girlfriend, a good best friend and seems to be starting his college career off on the right start. But something dark and dangerous comes into his life and things go from bad to worse.

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Author's Note: Here's Ch. 10 with lots of talking. This is an answers chapter so not a lot of action but there is a lot of things explained :)The picture is new but chapter specific, I've had a few people ask what the cross looks like and now I can post a pic to show. There will be a new picture for the next chapter :) I'd like to thank FaerieFyre for betaing, djkauf for the editing and DC Comics for the characters.

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Chapter Ten:

I opened my eyes and for the umpteenth time in the last several weeks, I had no idea where I was. I couldn’t help but groan as I rubbed my temples. I tried sitting up but that only seemed to make things worse. A searing pain tore through my head so I decided it was better to just lie there and figure things out. It felt like I was suffering from the biggest hangover in the history of hangovers. The strangest thing was I can vaguely remember not drinking last night. Last night, I groaned again. Just thinking about the party made my head hurt even more.

I finally managed to force myself to sit, the thin blanket covering me slid off. I blinked a few times. I was in a rather plain looking room. There was a dresser in the corner, a door that must lead to a closet and the bed I was currently lying on. The walls were a beige color and the carpet a muted brown. Whoever owned this place didn’t have much of an eye for decoration. I continued to look for other signs too, things that might tell me where I was. There was a single window but the blind was down. There was also another door, which I assumed led out of the room.

I pulled the rest of the blanket off then climbed out of bed. The pain hit me again, nearly throwing me for a loop. My head was pounding. It sure felt like I was drunk but I knew I hadn’t had a drop. What I did have was a bit of everyone else. I guess that’s the only way to describe what happened. I partook in my fellow partygoers…like some kind of parasite. This time---unlike the parking lot---I remembered everything. In fact, I could still feel some of it, residual traces of feeling bouncing about in my head. It wasn’t the crazy lust from last night but the drunken stupidity was still there. It was hard to stand and I ended up falling on back on the bed.

I sat there for some time, holding my head, trying to will the pain away.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a bit. Sitting seemed to help a bit. I closed my eyes and tried again to will the pain away. I tried for several minutes but it didn’t seem to work. So I guess my power of suggestion only worked on others. I guess that makes sense. After another few minutes, I decided to try standing again. It was still a bit painful in my head but it was a lot better than before. I actually managed to walk across the room toward the door. I half expected to find the door locked so I was shocked when it opened. The hall beyond had the same beige color and brown carpets. Someone definitely needed a decorator. But I ignored all that as I made my way slowly down the hall. Lest I forget, I was some place unknown and whoever brought me here could be a serious threat to me.
All I could remember from that was feeling real drunk and falling into someone’s arms. Or maybe they picked me up? It was all still a little foggy.

I got a few feet down the hall when I felt pressure in my bladder. I groaned. Now was not the time. But I couldn’t hold it so I stumbled into the open bathroom. I flicked on the light quickly, rushed to the toilet and barely had time to relieve myself. Once that was down, I decided not to flush in case my “rescuer” was also my enemy---no point in alerting him or her that I was awake. So instead, I stumbled over to the sink. If I turned on the water just a bit, I think I could get enough to splash in my face. So I turned the handle gently, allowing a thin stream of water to pour quietly into my hands. I got enough to throw in my face. As I did so, I caught a look of myself in the mirror. The water was in my face before I noticed something on my forehead. I blinked back a few times just to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. But there was no imagination; there was some kind of thing on my forehead. I leaned over the sink, putting my head right up to the mirror to get a better look. It was a little red diamond smack in the dab of my forehead---like those little gems that Indian women wore.

I reached up and gently touched it. I half expected the thing to have grown out of my head. But upon touching it, I could tell that it was some kind of attachment. I couldn’t really pull it off but it was clear that someone put it there. I was a bit freaked by that. Who the hell sticks funky stones on people’s heads? I tried pulling it off but it wouldn’t budge. I cursed. Did they glue it on there? I bit my lip, trying to think things through. My head still hurt and now I had a diamond stuck to it. Maybe that’s what was causing all the pain. I shook that theory off as stupid---nothing that small would hurt this much.

I continued to touch the stone for a minute or two more before realizing that if I wanted answers I might as well go looking for them. So I took a deep breath and left the bathroom. I could feel the stone now; it felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. Before the pain in my head was all that I could concentrate on. But thinking about the stone seemed to make the pain fade away. It wasn’t gone now but it was like a dull headache now, not like the pounding bitch it was before.

The farther I moved down the hall the more I wondered what waited for me at the end of it. When I finally got there though I was a bit surprised by what I saw. It was a normal house, all be it one that was lacking in much of anything. There was a couch and a pair chairs but not much else. There wasn’t even a television. Who didn’t have a TV? I stood at the end of the hall a minute or two before walking into the living room. The walls were beige like the rest of the house and there was a strange smell filling the air. I looked around, finally finding the source. There was an incense burner on the mantle of a fireplace, the smoke wafting off it filling the room with what smelled like sage.

“Finally awake I see,” said a voice from behind me.

I snapped around, hands clenched into fists. I was ready and rearing for a fight. Though I didn’t do much fighting, I at least knew how to throw a punch. Maybe if I got lucky I could stun the bastard enough to make a break for the door. But all that fire was gone as soon as I saw who was standing there. It was Professor Dee, dressed in a gray shirt and black pants. He was standing in the entryway that separated the living room and a small kitchen. He was holding two mugs; I was hoping they were coffee. I could really go for a cup of coffee right about now.

But I shook that thought away. I had more pressing matters to attend too. “What the hell am I doing here?”

He chuckled. “You’re here because I saved your life.”

He turned and walked into the kitchen. I could do nothing but follow him. He walked over to a little table and set one of the cups in front of a chair. Then he sat down in the chair across from it. I slipped into the empty chair. I looked down at the cup, it was filled with tea. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He smiled then picked up his cup. He took a nice long sip then sighed. “A special herbal blend from India…it helps clear the mind. You should try some; it might get rid of that headache.”

I looked at the cup, biting back anger. “I don’t give a fuck about your tea. I want to know why I’m here.”

He took another sip form his mug. “I know how this must look but I’m not going to hurt you, Miss Roth. In fact, it’s quite the opposite, I’m here to help.”

I frowned at that. “Then why all the secrecy. I know you’ve been watching me like some pervert, professor. I could get you fired for that you know.”

He laughed aloud. “No you couldn’t” I opened my mouth to argue but he held up a hand. “I would have to work there in order for you to do that.”

Wait what? Now I was confused. He saw the confusion and smiled.

“I’m not a teacher nor is my name really Dee” he said as if to explain.

That freaked me out even more. I took a deep breath and tried to call upon my powers. If I could just throw a suggestion at him, maybe I could get him to pour the hot tea on his lap or something. Then I could take off and run to the police. I wasn’t their favorite person but there’s no way they could turn a girl down if she claimed to have been kidnaped.

The “Professor” laughed. “Nothing you do will work on me, just like in the hallway and in the classroom.”

He placed his hands on the table. On his left pinky, there was a big gold ring with a yellow stone. I never noticed it until now. The stone had this shine to it, almost as if it was constantly catching the light. He saw me looking and smiled.

“What is that?” I asked, mesmerized.

“A gift from some very old friends” he said, slipping the ring off. He sent it on the table in front of us. “It’s called the Seal of the Seven; it’s a very powerful talisman. It helps negate any magic thrown my way. Your power of suggestion for instance or that fantastic bit of empathy that you have. None of it works on me as long as I have this.”

He picked up the ring and slid it back on his finger.

Now I was really confused. “I don’t understand. How do you know about me?”

He looked at the ring then at me. “What do you know about magic?”

“You mean David Copperfield, Hocus Pocus, that kind of stuff?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I’m not talking about charlatans. I’m talking about real magic.”

This time I laughed. “You can’t be serious. There’s no such thing as magic.”

He laughed aloud. Then something happened. The air got a charge to it, like static electricity. It felt it tug at my clothes and it made all the hair on my arms stand on end. I stared at the “Professor” and watched as he disappeared. Or so not really disappeared. His body seem to shimmer and in its place was me. I blinked a few times. There I was sitting across from me, dressed just like I was now. She smiled and picked up her tea cup. Then she took a long drink. She put it down, waved delicately at me and laughed.

“Still think there’s no such thing as magic?” she asked in my voice.

I stared at myself, flabbergasted. There was no way. I was ready to believe anything he said. That is until I remembered something from the news. There was talk about people who could change their appearance but they weren’t magic users they were Metas. I smiled smugly at her, I mean him. “Nice trick. but Metas can do that too.”

She smiled and just as quickly as she became me, she transformed back into him. “Very true but how about this.”
He waved his hand and a rose appeared in it. Then he crumpled the rose between his hands. When he opened it, back up a dove flew out. He smiled then pointed at my mug, it rose a foot from the table before he gently put it back down. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen. But it didn’t prove anything. He could be a Meta like me but with a lot of gifts. Just because Dakota said I was the first one they met with more than one ability like that didn’t mean I was the only one.

“Still an unbeliever?” he asked, I didn’t say a thing. He laughed. “What if I were to tell you that there are people other than Metahumans who can do what I just did. Maybe not nearly as skilled---I’ve had years of practice---but ones just as powerful. Metahumans are a fairly new breed, there have been some here and there but in the last year or so, their numbers have been on the rise. What if I were to tell you that the homo magi have been around for centuries.”

“Homo magi?”

“You’ve heard of Merlin?” I nodded. “He was one of the better known members of our race but there were several others before him. Merlin was a visionary though; he was the man that brought magic to the forefront. Before him, our kind lived in secret, hiding and operating in the shadows. But after him, we started to take a more active role in society. There have been some ups and downs through the years---the Inquisition, that unfortunate business in Salem---but we’ve always managed to spring back. We try not to interfere in the affairs of humans but it happens every once and a while. We’re enigmas for the most part, there but not there.”

I laughed. Then I realized something. He kept saying “we”. At first, I assumed he was talking about others like him. But he kept giving me this look when he said “we” like he was including me in this group of nut jobs. “You think I’m one of them?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think, I know” He waved his ring in the air. “The Seal doesn’t just negate magic, it finds it, too. I was here in the city on an investigation, looking for signs of people misusing magic. There were some unfounded rumors but the trail ran cold. I was about to pack it up and move on. Then you appeared. At first, I thought it was a mistake; you have such a great concentration of magic in you that I was sure it was several people instead of one. Suffice to say I was a bit surprised. I would have moved in immediately but I had to be sure. As soon as I saw the DMA talking to you, I figured I was on the right track. So often they mistake Magis for Metas.”

I nodded. Not that I believed him but it was true that I wasn’t a Meta. “I’m not a Meta, they told me that much.” He nodded then I remembered something else. “I overheard Dakota talking to Agent Matthews, they mentioned another group. It started with a B.”

He smiled. “The Bureau” he said. “They handle things of the magical nature. I’ve worked for them and with them in the past. As soon as your Agent Jamison discovered what you were, she should have passed you along to them. But she’s new and ambitious. I’m not sure if she knows exactly what you are, but Matthews sure does. He’s a little prick. He stuck his nose into it once before in Chicago, got himself involved with another young woman just like you. He failed to hand her over to the Bureau as well and she got scared and ran.

He sighed. “You can’t blame them for trying I guess. They’ve wanted to control one of us for a while, I think they thought now was their chance. I’ll deal with them shortly. Right now though I need to worry about you.”

“Me? Is there something wrong with me?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You have a lot of power but it’s all over the place. I can sense the magic in your blood but there’s something else too.”

I took a deep breath and bit my lip. I still didn’t even know his real name but if what he was saying was true, he could help. At least I was positive he could help. I still didn’t fully trust him but he was the only one who was making sense. I thought he was crazy about all this magic shit but maybe he knew what was going on. I took another deep breath. “I’ve been having strange dreams.”

His eyebrow perked up. “Tell me about them?”

So I told him. I told him everything, I didn’t leave anything out. I even found myself crying as I told him about the strange thing behind the door. He nodded once or twice. But it was the part about the necklace appearing in my last dream that made the color drain from his face.

“Necklace?” he asked, his body going rigid. “What kind of necklace?”

Thinking about it made me tingle. I reached absently to my neck where it wasn’t hanging anymore. He watched my movements, his eyes narrowing. It took me a few seconds but I told him about the necklace. I told him where I found it and how I didn’t want to wear it at first but I kinda longed for it. He nodded, but I could tell he was scared. It had nothing to do with reading emotion. You can always tell when someone is scared. It was a certain way about them.
When I finished telling me about it, he turned and flicked his hand. A pen and a piece of paper floated from the kitchen counter. It landed on the table in front of me. “Draw it for me.”

I frowned but took the pen anyway. I’m not an artist by any means but the cross was simple looking. It didn’t take me long to draw it. As soon as I did, I passed my rudimentary sketch back across the table to him. When he looked down, he sighed heavily. That sigh scared me. What the hell was going on? He stared at my picture for a while, not saying anything. When he finally looked up at me, there was definite fear in his eyes.

He stood up quickly. “Stay here” he said a bit too harshly for my taste. He left the room after that. A small part of me wanted to disobey him and run. But the rest of me knew better. Instead, I sat and waited. He came back a minute later, carrying a huge leather bound book. He dropped it on the table in front of him with a thud that shook the mugs, causing my now cold tea to spill a bit. I looked at the book, it was enormously thick. The pages were yellow and the binding old and cracked. I peered at the cover, half-expecting to see the words Necronomicon written on it. But there were no words. Instead there two metal buckles. The “professor” took a key from his picket and unlocked them. That freaked me out a bit; I mean who has a book that locks---besides a diary.

This thing was definitely not a diary.

He opened the book slowly. Then just as slowly started to leaf through the pages. It took a while for him to find what he was looking for but when he did, he turned the open book to face me. “Is this your cross?”

I leaned forward and looked at the pages. The words were in some language I couldn’t read but there was a picture. It was hand painted and filled most of the left page. I saw a man in a black robe holding a metal cross in his hand. It was larger than mine but there was no doubt about it: it was my cross. I stared at it for a long time. Then I stared at the man. There was twisted agony on his face like the cross was hurting him. Behind the man was fire and something else, a figure. It was a mincing creature with red skin and horns, crawling toward him. The creature was coming from a fiery circle as if it was crawling from the pits of hell. The picture sent shivers up and down my spine. I wanted to turn away but I couldn’t.

I finally managed to nod my head though to answer his question.

The “Professor” sighed heavily then took the book away. “Are you sure this is your cross?”

I nodded. “Mine is smaller but it’s the same thing.” He looked like he’d swallowed a gold fish. I bit my lip. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

It took him a few minutes to respond. When he did, his voice was hollow and distance. “This is The Rapture, one of the Thirteen Artifacts.”

I was confused. “What does that mean exactly?”

He sighed heavily, putting the book on the table in front of him. He took a deep breath. “The Rapture is one of Thirteen mystical artifacts, sought worldwide by individuals like me and others as well. The Artifacts themselves are immensely powerful but together they’re a force to be reckoned with. The Order has been looking for them for centuries. We’ve been trying to lock them up before unfortunates like yourself happen upon them. They’re usually drawn to those with magi blood but they’re been known to respond to other humans as well.”

I was really confused now. None of this was making any sense. So I found this Rapture thing, what the hell did that mean? “What does this Rapture do exactly?”
He shook his head. “It varies from tale to tale. I think I should tell you about its history first before I get into specifics on what we believe it might be capable of.”

I nodded. So he took the book and started to read from it.

According to what was written, The Rapture was first used in the early 1900s, at least the earliest recorded account of it. It was found in an old church by a man named Horace Grimes. Grimes was a mathematician, seeking ways to prove his theory of the Fifth Dimension. He searched the world over, looking for something that might prove his theory correct. According to Grimes’ journal, he spent many years looking for the Rapture. He was following old stories about an item capable of opening portals to other realms and became convinced the Rapture could help him open a gateway to the Fifth Dimension. At age of sixty one---after being horribly discredited---Grimes found it in an old church in Hungary. Eager to prove his theory, Grimes raced back to his hotel room and through scientific curiosity, he put the necklace on.

But the Rapture rejected him. It ate away at his soul and Grimes died almost instantly. The necklace passed on to his daughter and to her daughter, Tilly. Tilly never aspired to wear the necklace herself but she too was a victim of circumstance. The necklace built up a bit of a following and Tilly fell on hard times. So she decided to sell it at auction. It fetched a pretty price but not by the one who really wanted it. Before the necklace could be passed onto its new owner, the one who truly coveted it, killed Tilly and took the necklace for himself. The man’s name was Thomas Judge.

Judge was a religious zealot and believed only the worthy could wear the cross. The cross didn’t reject Judge like Grimes. He wore it for many years. According to Judge’s personal journal, the necklace spoke to him, told him to do things. Though he became a minister, Judge was plagued with many demons. Judge finally lost his battle with those “demons” at the ripe old age of seventy-five. He took the day off, locked himself in his office and put a pistol in his mouth. The necklace was in the possession of the church after that, believed to be some holy relic the minster picked up on his travels. Ten years after Judge’s death, the church burnt down. The necklace was the only thing not burnt in the fire. The new minister, believing it to be a cursed totem, threw it into the nearby river. By chance, it was found by a homeless man who sold it at a local pawnshop for fifty bucks. The Rapture’s account ended there. There was a robbery at the shop and the necklace was one of many things stolen. The writer of the big heavy book was not able to pick up the necklace’s trail after that.

But I knew what happened. I reached up and touched my neck. Somehow, after being stolen, it ended up at that costume shop in the city. I continued to caress my neck. The whole time the “professor” gave me this look. I’m not sure but I think he was trying to decide if I was dangerous or not. I couldn’t blame him, after reading about the necklace myself, I wondered the same thing. Now that that was over with, I still had my question yet to be answered.

I cleared my throat. “So what does the Rapture do?”

He sighed heavily. “It seems to vary from person to person. But the official description points to it as being some kind of life drainer.”

“Life drainer?”

He nodded. “Look what it did to poor Horace Grimes and then to Tom Judge, it destroyed both of those men. Although Judge was stronger, in the end it killed him too.”

I nodded. But there was more, I could see it in his eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Brody” he said.

I knew. As soon as the name came out of his mouth, I knew. Through me, the Rapture was different, through me, it killed people. I couldn’t help but think of poor Katie. My heart dropped into my stomach just thinking about it. It was the Rapture, it had to be. I felt sick to my stomach. The bile rose quickly. I jumped out of the chair and ran to the sink. I threw up until I was dry heaving. I coughed and sputtered and cried. It was my fault, all my fault. I thought t was my powers but it was more than that. It was the necklace, the whole fucking time it had to be the necklace. It drained the others of their life but with me, it had more to feed on. It had my powers---Meta, Magic or whatever. It used me, made me kill for it. I sapped the will from Katie and I sucked the life from Brody, left him a shell.

I managed to throw up again. Then there were those kids at the party. I remember what I did to them. That girl, the one I pulled the color from. I felt so strong then but it was because of her. I was taking the life from her. I nearly killed her. I would have killed her, her and everyone else in the whole house. I couldn’t even think about Bart, Lori, and the others. They would have been dead if, if the “professor” hadn’t stopped me.

“I’m a monster” I gasped then screamed. “I’M A FUCKING MONSTER.”

I felt gentle hands on my shoulders. I tried to shrug them off but they wouldn’t budge. Then the “professor” turned me around and hugged me. He held me a long time, whispering reassuring words into my ear as I sobbed on his shirt. He held me for a long time. I couldn’t remember when a man had held me like that. Grandpa used to do it when I was younger but that was years ago. I didn’t want to let go, I wanted to stay like that forever. When I finally did however, I pulled away gently. I wiped tears from my eyes and looked up at him .

“Is this where you kill me?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Not quite.”

I backed away a step. “You’re going to lock me up at least?” He shook his head, I stared at him shocked. “I’m dangerous. I’ve killed two people already. I can’t be near anyone, who knows when I’ll kill others.”

“I agree. You are a danger to yourself and others but you don’t have to be.”

“What are you saying?”

He smiled. “I can help you.”

“Help me?”

He nodded. “Did you notice the thing on your forehead?”

I reached up and gently touched it. I’d forgotten all about it but it made sense. I sighed inwardly. He must have put it there. ‘What is it?”

“It’s called a chakra stone. It’s a mystical power stone, used to channel energy. But in your case I believe you can use it to control energy too, keep it in check.”

I nodded through my tears. “You think it can stop me from killing people?”

“I think with the proper amount of training we can try.”

“Training?”

He nodded. “Meditation for starters. Then a honing of your skills. You might not think so but you’re a very powerful young woman, Rachel. I can help you with that. You’re not the first person I’ve trained to handle their abilities. I might not look it but I’ve been around for quite a while. If you’re willing, I can teach you to overcome your more base instincts and even how to control them.”

“Can you get rid of the Rapture?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you know where it is?”

I nodded. “I think so” I turned around and lifted up my shirt, showing him the large back tattoo. I heard his soft intake of breath.

He walked over and gently traced the lines of the tattoo with his finger. As he did I felt another charge of static electricity course through my body? For a long time he didn’t say a thing. When he spoke, there was no emotion in his voice. “The Artifacts are peculiar things.”

“I’ll take that as a no,” I said with a heavy sigh.

“No, that just means it might be more difficult. I’ve only met one other wielder of one of the Thirteen and so far any attempts to remove the Artifact from her have been unsuccessful.”

At the mention of someone else in the same boat, my curiosity was piqued. “There’s others like me? Can I meet her?”

He shook his head. “Not a wise idea. The Artifacts should never be close together for too long, it’s dangerous.”

I frowned. “Then do we know where the others might be?”

He shook his head. “This really isn’t my area of expertise” He sighed. “Which reminds me, I need to make a phone call.”

He walked off but stopped about halfway where he turned and faced me. Just know you’re not alone in this. There are others too and we’re going to help you.”

I smiled at that. It was good to know that this man---this man with no name----was going to help me. He smiled back then pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.

He dialed and held it up to his ear. “Jennifer, it’s Richard. I’m fine but we have a problem.”

He walked off, leaving me alone. I took a deep breath and sat back down at the table. I looked at my mug with the cold tea. I picked it up and downed it all in one huge gulp. I sighed when I was done. He was right, it was damn good and it did make me feel better. Then I looked over at his big book and shuddered. It might not be the Necronomicon but a small part of me knew there was something in there he wasn’t telling me, something bad and dangerous.

Something about the Rapture that scared him more than he was saying.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF