THE PRINCE OF HOUSE VLADD
CHAPTER 11
BOOK 2
BY ARTHUR
Ezrael knew he had little say in what was about to happen, it had been almost a daily event, and sometimes more, for his brothers to drag him into the forest and lay him over an old stump for their pleasure, his Father had dismissed it as boys playing boy games, the only time Ezrael had complained to him, it was not in the Reverent Jebadiah Carabine's nature to worry about such small things, after all, boys will be boys.
As he expected, Ezrael was dragged into the forest and, without further ado, laid over the old stump, it took only seconds for his closest brother, Bo, too pull down the ill fitting coveralls to reveal Ezrael's small white butt, with little thought for the younger boy, Bo spread the boys cheeks and pushed into the hot hole with a loud moan which almost matched the scream from Ezrael at the rough handling, the other two boys waited their turn as they played with themselves while they watched Bo have his way.
Through the pain, Ezrael felt Bo stiffen and then groan loudly as he emptied himself into the hot orifice, without thought for the younger boy, Bo extracted himself only to be replaced by the larger and now dripping weapon of Noah, the three older boys had agreed that Bo should go first each time as he would open the younger boy for their bigger size.
Noah also entered Ezrael with little thought of his pain and discomfort, Noah took a little longer than Bo and enjoyed the feeling a lot more but, it was soon over and only the older Jacob remained, he was almost as large as his Father now that he was seventeen, 6' 1" of man muscle, thick tree trunk legs and narrow waist with broad work hardened shoulders and arms.
Jacob looked down at the bent over boy, he was hard and ready as he looked at the white goo dripping from the red abused hole, grasping himself with one hand and the other pushing down on the younger boys back, Jacob forced himself inside the tight wet hole ignoring the pleas and cries of the younger boy.
When Jacob had finished, he and the other two pulled up their worn coveralls and left Ezrael laying over the old tree trunk without further thought of the boys position, he was the youngest and therefore was theirs to use as they saw fit and, as there were not girls close by, it was fitting that he fulfil that role for his older siblings.
Ezrael had little say in what happened but he did have his dreams of revenge and a plan to get away from this torment, at the local single room school, Ezrael was known as the smartest boy in the class, on Sundays, even his Father gave him credit for his smartness and let him read the bible lesson for the day, his knowledge of the bible and its stories gave him the small edge he needed to convince his Father to let him carry on with the ministry when he was older, the other boys had little interest in becoming Preachers so it was left to Ezrael to take up the mantel of his Father when he was old enough.
Ezrael rose and then hobbled over to a patch of leaves, there he forced the white goo of his brothers from his body, he had long ago thought to carry a small rag in his pocket for just such occasions so he could clean himself before pulling up his coveralls and returning to the house.
As Ezrael gingerly walked into the clearing, he was just in time to see his Father coming through the front door hitching up his old pair of loose jeans and tightening the buckle on the thick leather belt he wore around his expansive waist, of his sister there was no sign, she would be allowed to rest until it was time to cook their dinner.
Ezrael watched as his Father made a fuss over his three brothers, laughing and joking with them as Ezrael shuffled his way to the veranda and sat on the bottom step, his butt was hot and sore from the pounding of his brothers, it had almost become a normal feeling for him, his only relief was on Saturday night and Sunday morning when they would leave him alone so there would be no signs of distress when he stood to read the lessons at the midday service but, Sunday afternoon was another story.
Ezrael always looked towards Sunday afternoon with dread, once the service was over; it had been the practice for most of the boys in the small community. To gather at the local water hole and swim for a few hours before evening service, it was at this time that his brother's malicious streak showed, it was not uncommon for his brothers to let other boys take advantage of Ezrael as the others looked on and encouraged each boy to do his best.
The evening service became a difficult time for Ezrael as he tried to stop from grimacing at the abuse he received during the afternoon, but he would have his revenge one day in the future, of that he was sure, he would take over his Fathers place in the church and from there he would rise far above the station of any other family in the Ozarks, of that he swore to himself, one day he would rule over everyone and everything.
President Ezrael Carabine opened his eyes and felt the tears of disgust and pain at the long hidden memories, as he hoisted himself off the floor of the oval office and took his place behind the desk, the sudden realisation of his destiny took hold of him, he was the President of the United States, the most powerful country in the world and he would not let some two bit kids tell him what to do, Ezrael reached for the buzzer that would call the Director of the CIA, if it was war those little boys wanted then they had picked on the wrong man and the wrong country.
Director Simmons strode through the door of the oval office, the sight he saw gave him little time for thought, his President's angular face was set in a look of savagery that he had never seen before, even the faint trail of dried tears on his lined cheeks did not affect the Director, somehow he knew he was going to be given free reign to finally destroy the heathens of the South.
Director Simmons plans to try and capture the genes of the folk was suddenly put aside, their total destruction was a better revenge and he had all of the arms he ever needed at his disposal, they would not survive his final attack, all he waited on now was the order from the President to proceed.
"You called, Mr. President."
"Yes, Director, I want you to draw up plans for a full invasion of the Yucatan, I don't want a single tree or person left standing, if Mexico tries to intervene, then finish them off as well, I've had enough of this playing around, you have three days to bring me a foolproof plan, ignore any international attempts to intervene."
"Yes Mr. President, I'll take care of it for you."
Ezrael only gave a short nod of acceptance and then turned back to his desk as Director Simmons left the office to start his plans for the final solution to the problem of the were folk, he had hoped to be able to use their unusual DNA to create some form of super human to use for his own ends but that was now out of his hands and so, the final destruction would have to do.
The next morning, as the sun rose over the horizon onto the plains of Ohio, a dark storm cloud could be seen moving at a rapid pace towards the near ripened corn fields, as the first rays of the sun hit the wide open spaces, the dark cloud could be seen too began to settle towards the ground, within half an hour, the cornfields began to look like a war zone as the crops wilted away under the assault of millions of black locusts, the revenge of the two gods had begun.
Once the fields had been reduced to barren stubble, as if a signal had been given, the dark cloud lifted into the air and flew towards Kentucky, The fabled Blue Grass State, there, the cloud again descended and attacked the very fields that had bought riches to the many horse breeders, famed for their breeding and green rolling hills, it took only hours to turn the green state into a waste land.
To the South, the mighty Mississippi began to change, its normal turgid brown surface had now changed to a deep reddish colour and it took on the look of blood, within minutes, its surface became a visible grave yard for thousands of cat fish, fresh water prawns and other swimming creatures, even the mighty Alligator was not immune to the fouled water.
Along the banks of the river, in the many homes of the fishermen and others, the vision that greeted them that morning was like seeing the terrible stories of the scourges told of in the bible but this time it was in living, dying colour right before their eyes, the innate fear of the Apocholyps was now being shown to them all.
Outside Salt Lake City, on the far away flat lands, a swirling wind began to rise, not really a tornado but a five mile wide front of scoured salt, as it bore down on the unprepared city, it was preceded by a dull roar which drew most of the people from their breakfast, the sight that met them had them rooted to the spot, unable to move as the white swirling mass drew closer.
When it struck, it was like being overrun with a solid wall, paint was scoured from the surface of cars and buildings, bright shiny glass was dulled as the salt wall left scratches so deep it almost pierced the windows, those not fast enough to run for cover soon found their very skin being scraped from the bodies as the heavy salt tore at them like sandpaper.
Polished stone became dull and worn as it was attacked by the roaring blasts of salt laden wind, there would be no let up for hours, but no one knew this at the time, all they could think to do was reach for their trusty bibles and begin to pray like never before, not knowing that their life line had no power to stop what was happening.
In Los Angeles, San Francisco, and other coastal mega cities, millions of grey rats surfaced and began to fill the roads and walkways, sending the multitudes running for shelter as the large rodents began to attack anything in their path, human or animal, it made no difference to the storm of rodents, something had triggered a feeding instinct in them and they were not going to be denied, the battle for the cities had begun.
Next, came Boston, Chicago, and Seattle, from every nook and cranny a brown crawling mass appeared, small creatures of the dark were suddenly crawling like a mat over every surface, in every house and office building, the floors became a moving mass of cockroaches that swarmed over everything, the streets became clogged with people trying to escape from the infestation.
Washington was not to be spared from the revenge of the two god boys, above the center of the city and for a ten mile radius, a thick black storm cloud hung over the city, it had formed from what at first had been a normal bright sun lit morning, minutes after it had formed, the snow began to fall, creating a thick dense blanket that could not be seen through.
Within minutes, the capitol city of the most powerful country in the world was brought to a standstill and the temperature began to drop at such a rapid rate that anyone caught outside was in fear of freezing where they stood as the suddenly rising wind brought a chill factor far below anything a human could survive.
Those few advisors of the President who had gone to work early were suddenly inundated with calls for help from every state in the union, storms, pestilence, unnatural happenings, all were filling the switchboards and the calls for help and assistance clogged the phone lines until they could not hold up under the weight of traffic and began to fail, just like the power grids, not even in their god given book had there ever been anything like it before in all of human history.
Unknown to those in charge, there was one part of the country that seemed to stay totally untouched and unaffected by the torment going on around them, they were the forgotten people, a proud race who had been lied to, deceived and enslaved for over two hundred years, all in the name of power and glory or greed.
Had the administration had the means to find out, they would have seen that only the Indian Nations were untouched by any form of devastation, while many had laughed at their quaint old fashioned ways as they tried to keep their culture and belief in the Creator alive, most had kept the faith in the old ways, the young now saw the true power of the few old Shaman that were left as the old men appeared from their sweat lodges and, to the beat of the drum and in an older language than had ever been heard before, they began their chants and the skies above the Indian Lands stayed clear of any pestilence and the ground stood calm as all else around them felt the wrath of the Creator.
In the depths of Uxmal, the city of stone, Swiftwing went to find his two sons and thank them for sparing his people; their answer was typical of the two boys.
"You're our Father, how could we attack your family, the one people who have believed in us, we have made sure they will all be safe, even those who have strayed from the path of the Creator are still protected by blood, they are our family too."
Swiftwing could almost feel a tear at the edge of his eye as he looked at the two boys, two boys who had the power to bring the whole world to its knees if they so wished yet, they could spare a people who had lived under the yoke of tyranny for centuries and yet still held to their own ways in a belief that the Creator would still protect them from all harm.
Swiftwing drew both boys into his arms and gave them a grateful hug as they quickly grasped him close and snuggled into his chest like small boys, even with all their power, they still needed their Father's reassurance and tenderness.
They were drawn apart by the sound of Peter's voice as he entered the large empty throne room of the two boys.
"Well you two sure got busy; you know what the result of this little effort is going to be, don't you?"
"Yes Father P, but its only for twenty four hours, if that man doesn't resign then we will have to give him a little more of a shove next time."
Peter stood and looked at the two boys as they held an arm around his boyfriends waist, what they had done was monumental but maybe it was, after all, the right way to get through to the President, a little terror might work where any other form of diplomacy would not, he would let the boys have their twenty four hours and then look at a new plan.
Peter had begun to draw up a plan to get the Vaga boys to begin a small campaign of terror around the many centres of the Destiny church, it was now the only legal church allowed in the North, many of the people who had once followed one or another of the many religions were now under threat of incarceration to follow only the Destiny Church, the repercussions of not following this law were brutal and swift, there was now no room for anyone but the Presidents Church, he had created a land of one people, one law and one religion, that is, until the arrival of this new threat to his commands.
Buried deep under the capitol, in his private bunker, President, the Right Reverend Ezrael Carabine looked at the latest report from the states still under attack by the horrors of the day, somehow, the massive Roosevelt Dam had been shaken by a huge earthquake, it was an area where there had never been one before, now there was a long ragged crack in the dam which threatened to break altogether, the resulting flood would devastate, not only the city below, but would cause power outages that would take years to replace.
The next report really brought Ezrael Carabine to attention, in the depths of the Grand Canyon, the mighty Colorado began to lower its level, inch by inch, the river lowered until the very bed began to show, it was only a few hours later and there was no sign of the river except for the dark wet sand of the bottom, the roar of the river was now replaced with total silence in the shadowed depths of the largest canyon on earth, where the water had gone no one knew, it was as though it had just evaporated into thin air.
As the sun rose higher into the sky, the base of the canyon began to dry, at first there were only thin small surface cracks showing but, as the hot sun beat down, the cracks grew, small dribbles of loose sand began to fall from the widening cracks followed by small stones that grew in size as the cracks widened.
It began as nothing more than a small creaking but slowly grew into a rumble as more and more cracks opened in the now dry precipice of the high walls until, one after another, small slips became larger ones until the long deep canyon rumbled with an ever increasing number of large slips, even if or when the river returned to its course, there would be too many blockages for it to make its way to the far off ocean, instead there would be huge lakes that would form until the dams that held them back, weakened with the pressure and gave way to form large walls of destructive water, but that was in the future.
To the rest of the world, it appeared as though the once mighty country was being brought to its very knees by mother nature, behind closed doors, many other countries began to take a new look at their own positions, if this terror could happen to the US then would they be spared or would they also end up with the wrath of unknown forces at their own doors, it was something to ponder on as they watched the devastation of their once mighty foe.
Director Simmons became more worried as communications began to break down, first one station then another went off line, as a last resort he tried to contact the far flung air-force bases, only to find that all of them had major problems with their runways, some were under water, others under thick banks of snow and, still others, were ripped up by huge cracks caused by earth tremors, even the civilian ports were under attack, at last he had to admit defeat temporarily, it would take weeks to get them all back into operating condition, his plans for the city of stone would have to be put on hold for a little long.
Deep under the White House, in his secure bunker, the President continued to watch the reports of the multitude of disasters increase, he also frowned as he read the report from his CIA Director, everything was going down hill fast, had those two ethereal teens really been able to cause all of this mayhem or, were there other forces at work, for the first time in his life, Ezrael Carabine's faith in the almighty was shaken and even his own deep seated beliefs were now under attack.
All his life he had believed in the tenets of the Destiny Church, in the unbreakable laws laid down in his bible, he had done everything within his power to bring the people out of the darkness of ignorance and into the light of his beliefs, the whole country was now under the command of the Church, how could they possibly find fault with his administration of the Word of God.
It was the common people of the US who were really suffering for the dictates of their President, even the most dedicated of the followers were now beginning to find fault with their leaders as the country suffered one disaster after another, the loss of life was mounting by the hour as each tempest attacked another part of the country.
To the ordinary man in the street, it seemed that they had been abandoned by the administration, no words of comfort or assistance came out and, most felt it was now down to themselves to survive on their own, the reason for all of the disasters was not known but, most began to be convinced that their total belief in a Christian God was mislaid or, at least, under threat.
Director Simmons, also safe deep underground in his operations bunker under the CIA building, finally began to come to the conclusion the it was time for the President to give up his post, there was also, settled deep in the back of his mind, the growing possibility that he, Simmons, could take over if the situation was right.
His last meeting with the President had made him doubt the mans ability to lead a once proud nation out of this devastation, Director Simmons put on his thinking cap and began to work on the details that could be the beginning of a new career for him as the sole arbitrator of this land.
The terror of the events continued for another 24 hours, at the end of which time, the nation was in total shock and horror of the damage and destruction throughout the land, they had experienced everything from, pestilence, flood, infestations and volcanic activity, the country as a whole was shaken and unsure of their immediate future.
The dawning of a still and calm morning only lead them to believe that all was not well with the administration, no one had heard a word from their leaders, all communications were down and the power grids were almost non existent, it would take weeks just to get back the basics of life, the mighty city of New York, the financial Capitol of the US, was still under five metres of water and those lucky enough to escape were now refugees in their own country, the loss of life throughout the country was now in the thousands and there seemed no relief in sight.
President Carabine sat behind his desk, the haggard look on his face told its own story of the pressure he was now under, apart from a few advisors that had been with him when the first disaster struck, he had no other help, his belief in God had been shaken to the very core of his being, while he was safe in his bunker, he was also completely out of touch with the outside, frantically he sent out requests for his Director to get in touch with him by any means, the situation was becoming desperate.
President Carabine still sat with his head in his hands as tears dripped slowly from his eyes, the memories of his childhood and the fight he had to rise above his disadvantages, still caused him distress and brought a feeling of hopelessness, where had he gone wrong? It was a question he had no answer to, as he sat and rued his spoilt life, he felt the same tingling sensation as previously and looked up just as the two teens reappeared in front of his desk.
The young blonde was the first to speak.
"Ezrael, you have seen what we can do over the last 36 hours, you now have five days to resign your post and return to your Ozark Mountains."
The second teen then spoke.
"If you fail to do this then the full might of the Creator will be unleashed upon your head, heed our warning, it's the last one you will get."
The President looked at the two young teens and shuddered, even his deepest belief in his own ability was now gone, they could come and go at the blink of an eye and he had no reply to their undoubted power, his shoulders slumped in defeat, he would have to resign and walk away into oblivion, the last of his faith was broken as the two teens again disappeared into the ether.
The two aides found their President slumped on his desk, the deep sounds of sobbing and the slumped shoulders of defeat very evident in the room, the man who was once the most powerful in the world was now a broken man, his beliefs and dreams broken by natural disasters that seemed to never stop, one of the aides left the office and made his way to the only operating radio in the bunker.
The aide placed a com unit on his head and flicked the switch to send.
"CRC 1770, over."
The aide waited while there was a small hum of static and then a clear voice was heard in his headphone.
"Go ahead CRC 1770."
"I think he's done for, Sir, this looks like the time to move."
"Ok, CRC 1770, wait there and make an appointment for me, I'll be there as soon as I can, is everything else set up?"
"As you asked for Sir."
"Good, keep it that way, I won't be long."
The radio went dead in the aides ear, if he played his cards right he would end up with a very good position out of this small takeover, his dreams of power and position now had a good chance of success. The aide switched of the radio and left the com room, he had one more thing to do before returning to the Presidential office and awaiting the Director.
In the top temple of the pyramid, Peter and Swiftwing watched the reappearance of their two sons; the boys smiled at the Fathers and set about telling them about their meeting with the broken President, when they had finished, Peter asked them about the Vaga houses and if they were alright after the prolonged horror of the disasters.
"All of them are well protected Father, we would never put the folk at risk." Quetz replied.
"Good, well now all we have to do is see who is going to take over and begin their repairs, with luck we'll get someone with a little more humanity and a little less religion, the people need a real chance to return to their lives."
"We've given them five days to recover and for him to resign, I only hope they take the chance and elect someone with a bit more sense."
"Its politics, son; we can only hope for some common sense but I wouldn't hold my breath, that sort of power does strange things to ordinary men."
"What are we going to do if it all goes wrong again, if Tezca and I hit them again we could end up destroying the whole country, it doesn't seem fair on the ordinary people."
"If they don't see sense then we will go after them in the dark, that way we can keep the ordinary people mostly out of it and concentrate on the power hungry ones, I've sent out a plan to the Vaga Houses so they are ready if that happens."
The two teens nodded and then left for the lower temple, they had some catching up to do with each other and a good rest would replenish the amount of their own power they had had to use, it was a good feeling to be able to let their Father take over for a while, they had not enjoyed what they had been forced to do, but, they also saw it as the only way to bring common sense back into the North.
Peter and Swiftwing needed to feed and called for two of the street thugs from the cellar, once sated they settled down to work out the fine points of the Vaga attacks, they wanted to create as much terror as possible but with the minimum of damage, all would depended on who took office after Carabine was unseated, if they were a moderate person then they would have no need to use the Vaga, if, on the other hand, it was another radical, then the path was already set.
The damage to the armed forces left the North with little to retaliate with until they had rebuilt their bases and, by then it would be too late, all Peter wanted was to be able to return to his true homeland and live as they were meant to, his inborn Vampirism gave him many distinct advantages but he was not about to let his folk suffer through a war with the humans either, the losses on both sides would defeat the whole purpose.
As the sun sank on the first day of their counter attack, the two Vampires retired to their own quarters, they, or more to the point, their sons; had struck a heavy blow on the North, they could only hope that it was enough to deter any further attempts to wipe out the ancient city of stone.
TBC
Artcart65@vodafone.co.nz