The Reckoning was not only a physical reality; it was a visceral part of life in the New Colony. It was as inescapable as the terraformed air the children of the Lords of Mercury breathed each day. But as Benny left for Ellie's berth, he realized her lapse in memory was forcing him see things anew, to see things as Ellie soon would--and the thought of it filled him with unease. In a disturbing kaleidoscope, the sorry history of the New Colony tumbled through his mind.
Humans were not native to the colony. They had traveled here long ago, thousands of cycles at least, from a magical place, a heaven known as Mother Earth. Where it was and why the humans had left there was unclear, burned and buried beneath the wreckage of the Great Disaster.
They had come here to live, a planet not quite compatible of human life, but a planet that could be conquered, molded, and seeded for human development. The warm, blue-green world that became the New Colony was a planet teaming with life both on its single great land mass and surrounding sea. It was, simply put, a vast reservoir of protein, and to the great relief of the humans, there was no sentient life to pose serious competition.
So the people of Mother Earth came in their vast interstellar crafts, suspended above the pure atmosphere of the New Colony like giant, robotic birds. On a vast plain on the eastern side of the land mass, between a high range dubbed the Celestrial Mountains and the Great Sea, they constructed sealed, seven-sided living areas called cones where they would live in protection until the thin oxygen content of the planet rose to a compatible level. Then the cones would be opened and used as the core buildings that would launch a new society.
The cones were spaced at logical intervals across the breath of the colony connected by an intricate series of passageways. On the western edge was a special cone, used as a combination nursery and educational center. There the colony's children spent their days while their parents completed their new home. And it was there, near the end of the second Mother Earth year after the ships departed, that the near total destruction of the New Colony occurred.
It began with the reoccurrence of a childhood disease thought extinct and a simple cut on the wing of a tiny, frightened bird that laughingly resembled a horse...
This time the door to Ellie's berth was locked. Benny Knuckles knocked lightly, wondering what she had been doing since he left her four units before. Had her confusion passed, and was all this now unnecessary? Or was she once again lost in the worn photograph of her dead daughter?
Ellie cracked the door. Benny could see she was still dressed in her loose-fitting jump suit that failed to conceal the lithe, strong body underneath. Looking at her, Benny felt his throat tighten, but he managed a smile.
Ellie smiled in return. "Come in, Benny," she said. "I've been waiting."
Benny entered warily and looked around. The shutter was still down. Thank the Lords for that! He turned to her and spoke. "Benny will take you now," he said, looking into her eyes.
"Where?" Ellie asked.
"To a place where you might see The Reckoning."
"Let's go," she said resolutely.
"There is an added danger, Ellie, because of the blood from your cycle."
"How would you know about that?" she demanded, her sense of violation renewed. It had begun shortly after Benny had left her over dinner. It filled her with panic because for a long moment she didn’t know what to do. But instinct took over. She found tampons in the bathroom, and after an awkward few minutes she had taken care of this situation.
How had Benny known? Her face flushed. Was he watching her?
Benny sighed. "Benny is sorry. He forgets you cannot remember. Every woman in the colony begins her cycle on the first night of The Reckoning."
"Why?" Ellie asked. "Why is that?"
"It is a mystery," Benny replied truthfully.
Ellie swallowed. "I don't care about danger. Let's go."
"Your memory. Has any of it returned?"
Ellie sighed. "No. Nothing more since the dining room." She looked at Benny carefully. He was her only friend here, and she needed him. His intelligent face showed nothing but infinite patience. Ellie didn't recognize his love, but she did know he cared and that meant everything. "Thank you, Benny," she said.
"As Benny said before, don't thank him yet," he replied. "Not remembering can be a blessing in the New Colony. Most people would love to forget the terror that comes with life here. The truth is hard and unforgiving. Before this is over you may not like Benny. You may no longer be his friend."
"Don't worry, Benny. No matter what, I won't blame you. It’s just that I must know the truth."
He looked at her sadly. "Then Benny will tell you some of the story first, so that you will understand...”
Yes, they looked liked tiny horses, and they were named Nazgul by those born of Mother Earth. The name was a joke, taken from a long destroyed ancient book. The name was not mentioned in the Sacred Book, but it remained one of the few things the people of the New Colony remembered from their beginning.
As Benny understood it, the Nazgul were once harmless creatures as curious about the colonists as the colonists were of them. They were elusive, nocturnal animals. For most of the lunar cycle the Nazgul were nowhere to be seen, gone to their nests in the far off Celestial Mountains to the east. Then, shortly after the moons became full, they would appear; fluttering by the hundreds in the low oxygen environment. They seemed attracted to the newly constructed cones, swarming around them like insects hovering about a light.
During the New Colony's first hectic cycles, terraforming the atmosphere for human compatibility was the first priority. Unfortunately, as scientists predicted, the process killed up to thirty percent of the native life forms. This was considered an acceptable risk for the New Colony had sufficient diversity of animal and plant life to survive the transition. Harried New Colony biologists spared no time to study the Nazgul and their ways, for the tiny creatures were not expected to survive.
Horses. The Nazgul resembled tiny horses with wings. Oh, how Benny Knuckles would like to see a real horse like the one Lord Sheppard is pictured riding in the Sacred Book. They were to have them, he knew. He had actually seen the damaged vile carefully preserved at the institute's museum. Their seed had been brought here to be revived by some now forgotten miracle, but they had perished along with the other animals sent with such loving care across the galaxy. But Benny knew that to compare the Nazgul to the graceful, noble horse that once roamed the plains of Mother Earth was blasphemy.
The story of the changing of the Nazgul is not a written one. The memory of the event was so terrifying that no one dared it. One does not wish to revisit hell...
Benny led Ellie from her berth down the darkened hallway and past the quiet dining room. At a locked, unmarked door they paused. Benny produced a pass key attached to a large white tag. Ellie noticed the name Midgey was written on it. Beyond the door was a narrow flight of stairs. Ellie followed him up, her heart in her throat. With each step the tension that had been building in her since the discovery of the photograph mounted.
Up and up they went until they finally reached a high platform where a heavy door blocked their way. Ellie tugged at Benny's shirt. "Where are you taking me?" she pleaded.
Benny replied in a low, solemn voice. "28 Mercury, and all the other dwellings in the New Colony, are sealed until The Reckoning is over. No one goes in or out. No one. Even for an emergency. If a fire were to break out here, no one would come to our aid. If anyone attempts to open an outside door, or a secured shutter, the room is cut off, its inhabitants left to fend for themselves. Their fate doesn't matter, for even if they survive, the penalty for disobeying the laws of The Reckoning is death."
Ellie shuddered.
"Benny is taking you to the bell tower," he added. Then surprisingly, he laughed.
"What's so God damn funny, Benny?" she asked incredulously, her hands defiantly on her hips.
"What so funny is that there are no bells in the New Colony. No one is even quite sure what a bell is."
"Then why build a bell tower?"
"In the Sacred Book, one of the Seven went to a place called church before his journey of discovery. He described beautiful bells in a high tower. Our fathers assumed that such towers were made to protect the people from harm, so they built them hoping to ward off the Nazgul. Later, they were abandoned and sealed off."
"Why?"
"Because the towers did no good. Whatever magic they had on Mother Earth, they could not stop the Nazgul." Benny looked at the door then back at Ellie. "Are you sure you wish to see?" he asked.
"Yes," Ellie replied without a hint of reluctance.
Benny nodded grimly and unlocked the door. They entered a shadowy room. Benny quickly closed the door, cutting off all light except from one source: a pale glow pouring through the thin slats of a window at the far end of the room.
"You may look through there," Benny pointed.
Ellie turned toward the window hungrily, but before she could take a step, Benny put out his hand.
"Please, let Benny complete the story before you look. It will help you understand."
"No--"
This time Benny restrained her. "Just a little more," he said. "Please."
Ellie relaxed against his grip, her shoulders sagging with resignation. "All right," she said. "But hurry."
"Ellie, what you see here won't tell you more about your daughter," Benny cautioned. "It's more like looking into a nightmare."
Ellie looked at him blankly. "I woke up this afternoon to a nightmare so if this is another, bring it on! What have I got to lose, anyway?"
Benny regarded Ellie for a long moment pondering the wisdom of bringing her here, but as the wind rattled around the bell-less tower, he knew it was too late for second thoughts.
"The terraforming took a long time," he continued. "An entire generation had grown up in the domes while the slow process took place. A third generation was born before its completion. But the day came at last. The people of the New Colony would soon enter their world without cumbersome oxygen gear and live their lives as free men and women.
"The Mission Controller was to have the honor of being the first to step out of the dome. The zealots now blame him for what happened, for he was not blessed with the name of the Sacred Seven, but for many generations, blame was rightly placed on The Two.
"The Two," Ellie repeated. The number sounded odd, given that everything she had encountered in this world was a multiple of seven. Everything. Ellie bet that if she had opened the box of the condoms she found in her black bag, she would have found seven of them lined up in a neat, foil wrapped row. Yes, everything was seven, everything except--
"--Twofer?" she asked.
"Yes," Benny replied. "Even they are honored in a terrible way, forever disgraced, yet still a part of us."
"What happened, Benny?" Ellie asked. "What the hell happened?"
"The night before the opening ceremony, The Two went to the air lock. It was decorated in banners, ready for the morning festivities. It is said they did it on a lark and meant to keep their adventure a secret. Only they would now they were the first to witness the full moons and the dazzling starlight outside the confines of the cones. They entered the air lock and stepped into the New Colony night.
"The rest of the story is hazy, but we do know this: the Nazgul were not all dead. A handful still survived, sick and dying yet still bound by primordial blood tides to continue their ancient trek from the mountains to the wide, flat valley that was the home of the New Colony. Under the full moon they came, the pitiful remnants of a species and for the first time met a human face to face.
"It is said that the Nazgul were peaceful creatures by nature. Even at the end they were tame, airy animals. When the humans saw them they were not afraid. They were enchanted. They had stumbled out into a land of wonder, their natural defenses dulled by a lifetime living in confinement. Freedom of movement clouded their judgment. They were like children, and when they reached out to touch--"
"They were bitten," Ellie completed.
"Yes," Benny replied, his voice tinged with sadness. "The Nazgul, infected by some human disease, turned into monsters. Monsters that drink human blood. Monsters that come by night and never die."
The revelation stirred something in Ellie. It tugged at her soul and made her legs feel leaden. "They drink blood," she repeated.
"Yes," Benny replied. "Only one, the biggest one, eats the flesh."
"How many are there?" Ellie began. "Oh, I suppose that's a stupid question. There are seven, aren't there? Like everything else in this crazy place. Seven of everything, seven of these--things."
"Yes," Benny replied. "There is more to the story, Ellie. Much more. But Benny has told you enough for now."
Ellie turned toward the slated window. For all her anxiousness, she now hesitated, for now the window loomed like on evil portal. She thought of her forgotten dead daughter, of the shock and sadness of this world. Would the images outside this window be the final piece that would unlock this nightmare? Or would it simply push her over the edge into the abyss of madness?
There was only one way to find out.
Ellie felt as if she floated to the window. Her body had numbed about her, leaving only hungry eyes. Though it was night, it was not totally dark. Sitting above the horizon were the two rising moons. Their combined light provided an eerie, dirty glow. She looked out through the narrow slats and gazed across the expanse of the New Colony. Many of the conglomerations of buildings were obviously parts of the original air-tight dome system. Others had been built later, easily identifiable by their useless bell towers. As a whole, the city was a virtual hodgepodge of architectural styles. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, if you ignored the deserted streets.
Ellie found it amusing in a strange way. All this talk about colonizing a new world, terraforming, had a futuristic aura to it. It brought forth images of a gleaming hi-tech world populated by scientists and visionaries. But Ellie had awakened this morning in a filthy, rundown room, and the New Colony itself was a confused, chaotic place. The colony was old, very old, she now realized. The disaster that had created The Reckoning had occurred in its long, dim past, and had left its people a legacy of all encompassing fear.
Ellie waited. Except for an insistent Northerly wind, the world outside was as still as a photograph. Benny stayed beside the door showing no interest in sharing her experience. Why did the Nazgul come here anyway? Ellie wondered. Apparently they did not have the ability or the interest to break into the living areas, and since the residents were only in peril if they ventured outside, how could they induce such terror?
The first hint came with the shifting of the wind. Ellie thought she could hear far off cries carried on the breeze. Wails of pain and fear. The sound of death. Then there was a smell--the smell of blood.
"Nazgul," a wicked voice whispered in her ear.
Then from out in the distance, Ellie saw three of them. If these incubi resembled horses, it was a twisted, distorted version of that noble beast. All grace and beauty had left them. They were flying on long bat wings, screaming as they crossed the lonely rooftops of the New Colony like birds of prey.
Ellie suppressed the urge to scream. There was something visceral about the animals, something primordial that tore at her gut. Even from a distance she could see they were huge, easily twice the size of the biggest Earth horse. She felt the overwhelming urge to flee, even though she was safe within the solid bell tower of 28 Mercury.
"Why, Benny? Why do they come here?" she asked as she gawked.
"Don't you know, Ellie?" Benny asked sadly. "Can't you remember?"
Ellie shook her head, ashamed of her ignorance.
Benny spoke again, almost in a whisper. "For the next two nights, they will come. They come, Ellie, to feed."
Before Ellie could react she spotted a fourth Nazgul rising from below her and to the left. Ellie gasped, for it was bigger than the others. Much bigger. And it was carrying something in its mouth.
Ellie's eyes widened. "No! No! Please God, no!" she cried. Her body began to shake, and the room began to swim. Her words of despair were the second to the first thing she would remember before she passed out. The first was an image that would be forever etched in her mind. For lodged in the gaping maw of the Nazgul was the bloodied stump of a human being.
Humans were not native to the colony. They had traveled here long ago, thousands of cycles at least, from a magical place, a heaven known as Mother Earth. Where it was and why the humans had left there was unclear, burned and buried beneath the wreckage of the Great Disaster.
They had come here to live, a planet not quite compatible of human life, but a planet that could be conquered, molded, and seeded for human development. The warm, blue-green world that became the New Colony was a planet teaming with life both on its single great land mass and surrounding sea. It was, simply put, a vast reservoir of protein, and to the great relief of the humans, there was no sentient life to pose serious competition.
So the people of Mother Earth came in their vast interstellar crafts, suspended above the pure atmosphere of the New Colony like giant, robotic birds. On a vast plain on the eastern side of the land mass, between a high range dubbed the Celestrial Mountains and the Great Sea, they constructed sealed, seven-sided living areas called cones where they would live in protection until the thin oxygen content of the planet rose to a compatible level. Then the cones would be opened and used as the core buildings that would launch a new society.
The cones were spaced at logical intervals across the breath of the colony connected by an intricate series of passageways. On the western edge was a special cone, used as a combination nursery and educational center. There the colony's children spent their days while their parents completed their new home. And it was there, near the end of the second Mother Earth year after the ships departed, that the near total destruction of the New Colony occurred.
It began with the reoccurrence of a childhood disease thought extinct and a simple cut on the wing of a tiny, frightened bird that laughingly resembled a horse...
This time the door to Ellie's berth was locked. Benny Knuckles knocked lightly, wondering what she had been doing since he left her four units before. Had her confusion passed, and was all this now unnecessary? Or was she once again lost in the worn photograph of her dead daughter?
Ellie cracked the door. Benny could see she was still dressed in her loose-fitting jump suit that failed to conceal the lithe, strong body underneath. Looking at her, Benny felt his throat tighten, but he managed a smile.
Ellie smiled in return. "Come in, Benny," she said. "I've been waiting."
Benny entered warily and looked around. The shutter was still down. Thank the Lords for that! He turned to her and spoke. "Benny will take you now," he said, looking into her eyes.
"Where?" Ellie asked.
"To a place where you might see The Reckoning."
"Let's go," she said resolutely.
"There is an added danger, Ellie, because of the blood from your cycle."
"How would you know about that?" she demanded, her sense of violation renewed. It had begun shortly after Benny had left her over dinner. It filled her with panic because for a long moment she didn’t know what to do. But instinct took over. She found tampons in the bathroom, and after an awkward few minutes she had taken care of this situation.
How had Benny known? Her face flushed. Was he watching her?
Benny sighed. "Benny is sorry. He forgets you cannot remember. Every woman in the colony begins her cycle on the first night of The Reckoning."
"Why?" Ellie asked. "Why is that?"
"It is a mystery," Benny replied truthfully.
Ellie swallowed. "I don't care about danger. Let's go."
"Your memory. Has any of it returned?"
Ellie sighed. "No. Nothing more since the dining room." She looked at Benny carefully. He was her only friend here, and she needed him. His intelligent face showed nothing but infinite patience. Ellie didn't recognize his love, but she did know he cared and that meant everything. "Thank you, Benny," she said.
"As Benny said before, don't thank him yet," he replied. "Not remembering can be a blessing in the New Colony. Most people would love to forget the terror that comes with life here. The truth is hard and unforgiving. Before this is over you may not like Benny. You may no longer be his friend."
"Don't worry, Benny. No matter what, I won't blame you. It’s just that I must know the truth."
He looked at her sadly. "Then Benny will tell you some of the story first, so that you will understand...”
Yes, they looked liked tiny horses, and they were named Nazgul by those born of Mother Earth. The name was a joke, taken from a long destroyed ancient book. The name was not mentioned in the Sacred Book, but it remained one of the few things the people of the New Colony remembered from their beginning.
As Benny understood it, the Nazgul were once harmless creatures as curious about the colonists as the colonists were of them. They were elusive, nocturnal animals. For most of the lunar cycle the Nazgul were nowhere to be seen, gone to their nests in the far off Celestial Mountains to the east. Then, shortly after the moons became full, they would appear; fluttering by the hundreds in the low oxygen environment. They seemed attracted to the newly constructed cones, swarming around them like insects hovering about a light.
During the New Colony's first hectic cycles, terraforming the atmosphere for human compatibility was the first priority. Unfortunately, as scientists predicted, the process killed up to thirty percent of the native life forms. This was considered an acceptable risk for the New Colony had sufficient diversity of animal and plant life to survive the transition. Harried New Colony biologists spared no time to study the Nazgul and their ways, for the tiny creatures were not expected to survive.
Horses. The Nazgul resembled tiny horses with wings. Oh, how Benny Knuckles would like to see a real horse like the one Lord Sheppard is pictured riding in the Sacred Book. They were to have them, he knew. He had actually seen the damaged vile carefully preserved at the institute's museum. Their seed had been brought here to be revived by some now forgotten miracle, but they had perished along with the other animals sent with such loving care across the galaxy. But Benny knew that to compare the Nazgul to the graceful, noble horse that once roamed the plains of Mother Earth was blasphemy.
The story of the changing of the Nazgul is not a written one. The memory of the event was so terrifying that no one dared it. One does not wish to revisit hell...
Benny led Ellie from her berth down the darkened hallway and past the quiet dining room. At a locked, unmarked door they paused. Benny produced a pass key attached to a large white tag. Ellie noticed the name Midgey was written on it. Beyond the door was a narrow flight of stairs. Ellie followed him up, her heart in her throat. With each step the tension that had been building in her since the discovery of the photograph mounted.
Up and up they went until they finally reached a high platform where a heavy door blocked their way. Ellie tugged at Benny's shirt. "Where are you taking me?" she pleaded.
Benny replied in a low, solemn voice. "28 Mercury, and all the other dwellings in the New Colony, are sealed until The Reckoning is over. No one goes in or out. No one. Even for an emergency. If a fire were to break out here, no one would come to our aid. If anyone attempts to open an outside door, or a secured shutter, the room is cut off, its inhabitants left to fend for themselves. Their fate doesn't matter, for even if they survive, the penalty for disobeying the laws of The Reckoning is death."
Ellie shuddered.
"Benny is taking you to the bell tower," he added. Then surprisingly, he laughed.
"What's so God damn funny, Benny?" she asked incredulously, her hands defiantly on her hips.
"What so funny is that there are no bells in the New Colony. No one is even quite sure what a bell is."
"Then why build a bell tower?"
"In the Sacred Book, one of the Seven went to a place called church before his journey of discovery. He described beautiful bells in a high tower. Our fathers assumed that such towers were made to protect the people from harm, so they built them hoping to ward off the Nazgul. Later, they were abandoned and sealed off."
"Why?"
"Because the towers did no good. Whatever magic they had on Mother Earth, they could not stop the Nazgul." Benny looked at the door then back at Ellie. "Are you sure you wish to see?" he asked.
"Yes," Ellie replied without a hint of reluctance.
Benny nodded grimly and unlocked the door. They entered a shadowy room. Benny quickly closed the door, cutting off all light except from one source: a pale glow pouring through the thin slats of a window at the far end of the room.
"You may look through there," Benny pointed.
Ellie turned toward the window hungrily, but before she could take a step, Benny put out his hand.
"Please, let Benny complete the story before you look. It will help you understand."
"No--"
This time Benny restrained her. "Just a little more," he said. "Please."
Ellie relaxed against his grip, her shoulders sagging with resignation. "All right," she said. "But hurry."
"Ellie, what you see here won't tell you more about your daughter," Benny cautioned. "It's more like looking into a nightmare."
Ellie looked at him blankly. "I woke up this afternoon to a nightmare so if this is another, bring it on! What have I got to lose, anyway?"
Benny regarded Ellie for a long moment pondering the wisdom of bringing her here, but as the wind rattled around the bell-less tower, he knew it was too late for second thoughts.
"The terraforming took a long time," he continued. "An entire generation had grown up in the domes while the slow process took place. A third generation was born before its completion. But the day came at last. The people of the New Colony would soon enter their world without cumbersome oxygen gear and live their lives as free men and women.
"The Mission Controller was to have the honor of being the first to step out of the dome. The zealots now blame him for what happened, for he was not blessed with the name of the Sacred Seven, but for many generations, blame was rightly placed on The Two.
"The Two," Ellie repeated. The number sounded odd, given that everything she had encountered in this world was a multiple of seven. Everything. Ellie bet that if she had opened the box of the condoms she found in her black bag, she would have found seven of them lined up in a neat, foil wrapped row. Yes, everything was seven, everything except--
"--Twofer?" she asked.
"Yes," Benny replied. "Even they are honored in a terrible way, forever disgraced, yet still a part of us."
"What happened, Benny?" Ellie asked. "What the hell happened?"
"The night before the opening ceremony, The Two went to the air lock. It was decorated in banners, ready for the morning festivities. It is said they did it on a lark and meant to keep their adventure a secret. Only they would now they were the first to witness the full moons and the dazzling starlight outside the confines of the cones. They entered the air lock and stepped into the New Colony night.
"The rest of the story is hazy, but we do know this: the Nazgul were not all dead. A handful still survived, sick and dying yet still bound by primordial blood tides to continue their ancient trek from the mountains to the wide, flat valley that was the home of the New Colony. Under the full moon they came, the pitiful remnants of a species and for the first time met a human face to face.
"It is said that the Nazgul were peaceful creatures by nature. Even at the end they were tame, airy animals. When the humans saw them they were not afraid. They were enchanted. They had stumbled out into a land of wonder, their natural defenses dulled by a lifetime living in confinement. Freedom of movement clouded their judgment. They were like children, and when they reached out to touch--"
"They were bitten," Ellie completed.
"Yes," Benny replied, his voice tinged with sadness. "The Nazgul, infected by some human disease, turned into monsters. Monsters that drink human blood. Monsters that come by night and never die."
The revelation stirred something in Ellie. It tugged at her soul and made her legs feel leaden. "They drink blood," she repeated.
"Yes," Benny replied. "Only one, the biggest one, eats the flesh."
"How many are there?" Ellie began. "Oh, I suppose that's a stupid question. There are seven, aren't there? Like everything else in this crazy place. Seven of everything, seven of these--things."
"Yes," Benny replied. "There is more to the story, Ellie. Much more. But Benny has told you enough for now."
Ellie turned toward the slated window. For all her anxiousness, she now hesitated, for now the window loomed like on evil portal. She thought of her forgotten dead daughter, of the shock and sadness of this world. Would the images outside this window be the final piece that would unlock this nightmare? Or would it simply push her over the edge into the abyss of madness?
There was only one way to find out.
Ellie felt as if she floated to the window. Her body had numbed about her, leaving only hungry eyes. Though it was night, it was not totally dark. Sitting above the horizon were the two rising moons. Their combined light provided an eerie, dirty glow. She looked out through the narrow slats and gazed across the expanse of the New Colony. Many of the conglomerations of buildings were obviously parts of the original air-tight dome system. Others had been built later, easily identifiable by their useless bell towers. As a whole, the city was a virtual hodgepodge of architectural styles. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, if you ignored the deserted streets.
Ellie found it amusing in a strange way. All this talk about colonizing a new world, terraforming, had a futuristic aura to it. It brought forth images of a gleaming hi-tech world populated by scientists and visionaries. But Ellie had awakened this morning in a filthy, rundown room, and the New Colony itself was a confused, chaotic place. The colony was old, very old, she now realized. The disaster that had created The Reckoning had occurred in its long, dim past, and had left its people a legacy of all encompassing fear.
Ellie waited. Except for an insistent Northerly wind, the world outside was as still as a photograph. Benny stayed beside the door showing no interest in sharing her experience. Why did the Nazgul come here anyway? Ellie wondered. Apparently they did not have the ability or the interest to break into the living areas, and since the residents were only in peril if they ventured outside, how could they induce such terror?
The first hint came with the shifting of the wind. Ellie thought she could hear far off cries carried on the breeze. Wails of pain and fear. The sound of death. Then there was a smell--the smell of blood.
"Nazgul," a wicked voice whispered in her ear.
Then from out in the distance, Ellie saw three of them. If these incubi resembled horses, it was a twisted, distorted version of that noble beast. All grace and beauty had left them. They were flying on long bat wings, screaming as they crossed the lonely rooftops of the New Colony like birds of prey.
Ellie suppressed the urge to scream. There was something visceral about the animals, something primordial that tore at her gut. Even from a distance she could see they were huge, easily twice the size of the biggest Earth horse. She felt the overwhelming urge to flee, even though she was safe within the solid bell tower of 28 Mercury.
"Why, Benny? Why do they come here?" she asked as she gawked.
"Don't you know, Ellie?" Benny asked sadly. "Can't you remember?"
Ellie shook her head, ashamed of her ignorance.
Benny spoke again, almost in a whisper. "For the next two nights, they will come. They come, Ellie, to feed."
Before Ellie could react she spotted a fourth Nazgul rising from below her and to the left. Ellie gasped, for it was bigger than the others. Much bigger. And it was carrying something in its mouth.
Ellie's eyes widened. "No! No! Please God, no!" she cried. Her body began to shake, and the room began to swim. Her words of despair were the second to the first thing she would remember before she passed out. The first was an image that would be forever etched in her mind. For lodged in the gaping maw of the Nazgul was the bloodied stump of a human being.
No comments:
Post a Comment