EHYEH-ASHER-EHYEH (I AM THAT I AM): An Elena Duran/Corazon Negro
Vi Moreau (vmoreau@directvinternet.com)
Sat, 21 Sep 2002 12:15:00 -0400
Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh (I am that I am) 10.1/34
Julio Cesar divad72@prodigy.net.mx
Vi Moreau vmoreau@directvinternet.com
Island of Nod
Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean
March 27, 2013
"And another thing. I don't really care how things were done back in the
Middle Ages. We aren't in the Dark Ages. We don't want to be in that period
again. And I'm getting just a little bit tired of hearing about it. If I
wanted things to run like they did back then, you'd be the first to know."
Vlad punctuated each point by jabbing a finger in the face of Torquemada who
sat opposite him. He leaned far out over the conference table to do so, as
if it were the only thing holding him back from physically assaulting his
counterpart. Seeing that his antagonist was losing composure, Vlad pressed
on more aggressively.
"I'd call you up myself. I'd say 'Inquisition'! What we really need around
here is a little more, you know, than the Church. So, in the meantime, why
don't you just take your sorry old face and your obese body and shut up next
to your telephone-at the very center of the known universe-and wait for my
call, all right?"
Torquemada fumed. Liquid rage seeped from his fists, which were wound
tightly around the arms of his chair. From over his shoulder, his shadow
unfurled silently like a bird of prey perched menacingly atop his seatback.
"Why, you misbegotten and ungrateful bastard," he began, rising from his
seat.
"Gentlemen!" Rasputin's voice cut through the building tension. "We are not
here to give vent to our differences, but rather to lay them aside. There is
important work at hand. Glorious work!" At his first word, all eyes turned
toward the monk. He held their attention, not with his gaze, but with his
immaculate and predatory smile. "There will be ample opportunity to
demonstrate your prowess upon our common enemies."
Reluctantly, both Vlad and Torquemada settled back into their chairs.
"Yes, that's better. Sit. Drink. Be of good cheer," Rasputin soothed. "We
are gathered on the threshold of a glorious victory. Before we have parted
company, we will strike a mighty blow-a blow from which the mortal world
shall not recover."
"However," Torquemada raised a cautionary finger, "we are still poised upon
that threshold. There can be little doubt of what awaits us beyond the
doorway."
"This is the Endgame, gentlemen, nothing less," Cartiphilus said as he chose
to ignore this slight show of defiance. He pitched his voice so that it
carried across the entire room. "But his Holiness here raises a good point.
However, we don't need to be afraid. We are the Headless Children. The word
is out that the Ancient Gathering is making ready for a fight. Others have
fought them in the past, but they didn't have the power, the experience or
the balls to carry out that fight successfully. Not like us."
A roar and a riotous cheer went up from the Headless Children, and even Vlad
was on his feet. Gaius, known in history as Caligula, sitting to
Torquemada's left, brandished a fist high up in the air in which no fewer
that three wicked knives, each blade as long as the man's forearm, danced in
agreement.
The venerable Torquemada raised a hand for silence and the crowd gradually
began to quite back down enough so that individual voices could be heard
once more.
It was Livia's voice that cut through the clamor. "Honorable Inquisitor,"
the sound of the woman's voice had an appreciable effect upon the table.
Attention turned toward her. "Honorable Inquisitor, we are pleased by your
presence here as guest of this council." Then she turned her gaze toward
Gaius. "We have come at Lilitu's behest, to offer what good council we
might. We have come in good faith and in accordance with the terms sent
forth by Mother in her invitation. We have come with the clear understanding
that there were to be no weapons of any sort allowed within these chambers.
Isn't that so, my dear great-grandson?"
Gaius showed his middle finger-a gesture intended, no doubt, to express his
opinion. Livia pretended not to have observed his gesturing retort.
"Yes, the sound of drawn steel. I heard it quite unmistakably," Cartiphilus
mused aloud. "If any here have weapons about their persons, set them aside
now," he ordered, staring straight at Gaius.
Nobody moved.
"Caligula." Torquemada prompted.
"My name is Gaius Caesar Germanicus. You may call me Gaius, or even Caesar,
if you like. As for getting rid of the blades, no way. No fucking way. Not
even if great-grandmother asks me. I'm not giving my blades to some bunch
of-"
"Do it."
"No. That's it. I am out of here. As far as I'm concerned the whole lot of
you can kiss my white-"Vlad rose.
Gaius cursed under his breath. "So is this how it's going to be?" he tried
to push past him, but Vlad put a hand on his chest.
Gaius' hands were at his sides, but an unmistakable ring of metal told Vlad
that they were no longer empty. The Roman spoke slowly and softly. "Why
don't you do everyone here a favor and just get the hell out of my way?"
"Can't do that. Too many Immortals have died so that you can be standing
here, mouthing off and making an ass out of yourself. That contract's been
written in blood. Nobody walks out. One in blood, one in body. Now, put the
blades on the table," Vlad ordered.
"You talk a good game about this coalition," Gaius said as his knives began
to flicker in an open and shut manner in nervous agitation. "But when it
comes down to it. Where were you at the end of the Dark Ages?"
All around them, the Headless Children were getting cautiously to their feet
and beginning to form a cordon-like oval around the two disaccording
parties. Vlad didn't even glance aside to weight where the support was
lining up. He just smiled and reached out a hand. "The blades."
Gaius seemed nervous and distracted. He glanced around for encouragement and
must have found at least a few friendly faces in the throng. He turned to
Vlad with renewed determination. "This is the big time, tough guy. What are
you going to do? These bastards here," he gestured to the conference table
where the rest of the assembly looked on with alternating distaste and
detached curiosity. "You think these guys are going to stand with you when
they see how you pay back the folks who helped you get where you are now?
Come off it. We are the real deal. Hell, we are the Headless Children, the
folks that make things happen. You're not dealing with a bunch of low-life
drug dealers any more. You think we are sitting around waiting for someone
to come along and tell us what to do and how to do it?"
Vlad's gaze narrowed dangerously.
"Look at Torquemada," Gaius gestured angrily in the direction of the
Inquisitor. "You think that guy gives a damn about the Endgame? He is one
weird mother. And I know that he's been doing that same twisted shit since
long before, well, since before Dr. Frankenstein was a glimmer in Mary
Shelley's eye. And he'll be doing it long after you and I have bought a worm
farm-really bought it, I mean."
"Caligula," Vlad said ominously and insultingly. "Give me the blades. Now."
Gaius circled warily, positioning himself so that the wall was behind him
and Vlad had to turn his back on the entire treacherous assembly in order to
face him. "Don't be an idiot," Gaius' menacing whisper cut through the air.
"You're unarmed. I'll cut you down where you stand, before you can even lay
a hand on me."
"Listen, I don't want to kill you and my guess is that you don't want to
die," Vlad said in a tone one might take in addressing an idiot child.
"Although I wouldn't want to have to prove it with only the evidence of the
last few minutes. If you want to do this thing, take your shot. Otherwise,
give me the blades and sit down, because we have a war to plan and some
Ancient Gathering bastards to hunt down and make plead for their pitiful
lives, and you are holding up the show." The Voivode moved closer. "So,
what's going to be? You take a cut at me and you won't walk out here. You
know it. Look at these bastards. Go ahead, look at them. These guys will eat
your sorry carcass for lunch. You think we're playing around? Indeed, this
is the big show. So let's do it like you mean it. One blood ."
Gaius's right arm shot out, unleashing a screaming arc of steel at
point-blank range. Vlad made no effort to sidestep the oncoming blade. He
held Gaius's eyes unflinchingly. The swirling knife cut hard, backing out
and down. The second knife, immediately following the first, slammed home
into the table with a resounding chunk and stood there trembling.
". One body." Gaius snapped up the remaining blade and purposefully turned
his back on Vlad. He took three steps toward the table. With each step, he
could feel the muscles between his shoulders tense in anticipation of the
retaliatory strike. One. Two. Three. Nothing.
He let out a long slow breath as he pulled the knife out of the table, then
slid them both noisily, disdainfully, across the great circular table. They
clattered to rest near its center, well out of reach of any of the Headless
Children seated around the perimeter. Without a sideward glance, Gaius took
his seat. "You'll pardon, venerable Torquemada. I believe my gracious
great-grandmother of Rome had the floor."
Vlad held his ground as if lost in deep thought. His gaze never wavered from
the space Gaius had just recently occupied. His side still burned like hell,
but he couldn't spare it much attention as yet, as the eyes around the table
turned once again to Livia. Caligula would pay later, of course. And keep
paying, the smug bastard. Vlad had seen the gleam of triumph in Caligula's
eyes just before he had turned his back. The Voivode would make a point of
remembering that look, so that he could arrange Caligula's face in just that
same expression after he impaled him. Stepping toward the table now, he
stoically pulled the Roman's blade from his side and slid it, as it left a b
loody trace, to the center of the table, to join the others.
"We are satisfied, thank you, my child," Livia waved dismissively toward the
blades, as if she would brush them from sight.
"But I," Torquemada countered, "am not satisfied." Wary eyes regarded him
once again.
"We are the maximum power on this earth, and we are jealous of our hard-won
freedom," Torquemada continued. "For many of us present at this assembly,
perhaps, the excesses-even the cruelties-of Lilitu are not the stuff of
distant legend, but rather of all-too recent memory, yes? So, where is she?"
There were a few mutterings of assent from around the table, but the
rumbling undertone was dangerous rather than affirming.
"It is nothing with which you need concern yourself, Inquisitor." Livia
answered. Her voice was icy. "The fact of the matter is, that we are
justifiably wary of the convoluted Game of dominance our holy Mother wants
to play."
There were scattered words of assent and one loud 'amen' from Torquemada.
"Mother," Cartiphilus pronounced the word as if searching for some meaning
in it. "Now, there's a moral there somewhere. No, that's a fable." He seemed
lost in thought. He drummed the tips of his fingers together distractedly.
The nails clacking together on the wooden surface of the table sounded like
the rattle of machine-gun fire in the silent chamber.
The entire assembly seemed to hold its breath.
"Do any of you know that Mother." Cartiphilus began. "No, never mind, you
wouldn't know." After a moment, Torquemada spoke again. "We can't deny, that
our precious Mother has taken an all-too-personal interest in the future of
the humankind."
Cartiphilus weathered these accusations, as well as the outburst of barking
laughter from the assembly, but his veneer of aloof composure was wearing
him. "Mother has made no secret of the fact that she is very interested in
ruling the world."
"Secret? I should think not," Torquemada retorted. "By now, surely even the
Watchers-not to mention the Ancient Gathering-have learned of the presence
of Mother involved in the decapitations on Holy Ground all around the world.
Honestly, I don't know what her plan is ."
"I think," replied Cartiphilus through clenched teeth, "that you overstep
yourself."
"Perhaps you are right," Torquemada calmed himself and rose to pace around
the room. A dramatic affectation, or it may have been intended to cover the
fact that those seated nearest him had begun to edge away warily. "Perhaps I
should rather say what is foremost in the minds of all those here assembled.
I shall speak plainly, lady and gentlemen. As even you must be aware by now,
our very presence here compromises our position."
Vlad snorted dismissively into the silence that followed this proclamation.
"Although I am willing to grant that yours is the more intimate knowledge of
compromising positions," he began, warming up to the challenge at hand, "you
must in turn admit that, of all here, I have more seasons of war campaigns
to my credit. And I, for one, know that very soon we will receive
reinforcements."
"It is not the reinforcements that worry me," Torquemada was nearly
shouting. "It is the cost of that reinforcement. We are not as wet behind
the ears as you would have it, Voivode. I too, led armies in the name of
Jesus. Do you think that the significance of Mother's ambitions will be lost
on this astute assembly .?"
The resounding of great blows of thunder upon the chamber interrupted the
pitched argument. A strange wind that came from nowhere invaded the room.
The entire assembly felt the darkness outside their minds press harder upon
them, and their dream images slipped away. It was an almost palpable thing,
and with a start they realized the probable source of the danger just as a
deep and resonant voice called out. The sound was distorted.
"Silence!" cried a commanding voice from the darkness that suddenly fell
upon the table. "Silence in the name of Lilitu, Gatekeeper of the Dream,
Guardian of Shadows! The new Goddess!"
They felt the inky mass of darkness begin to press its way into their
orifices, and the mindless, horrific plasmic mass did not discriminate.
Despite their centuries and experience, despite their own great powers, the
Headless Children were afraid. But the darkness did not relent. However, it
did slowly part.
Disembodied voices rose from the shadows, indistinct, muffling screams,
overlapping each other. The moaning souls of hundred of beings opened the
Dream. Above the table, a figure appeared. Every one saw a different
representation of Mother. For Livia, it was Venus. For Cartiphilus, the
rock-Goddess from Petra. For Torquemada, the Virgin Mary. Vlad saw a winged
woman. Gaius saw a Phoenix emerging from hell. Rasputin gazed upon a black
angel.
"Listen to me! Listen to your Mother, you Children of divine fornication!"
Lilitu commanded. All around the table, Headless Children began to
stand-some of them much more quickly than others.
"The next time I see you like this," Lilitu hissed just loud enough for the
ears of her followers, "you're dead. If you fail me, it's over for you! The
next time I have to remind all of you who is in command, it's just over!
Understood?"
At the same time, the Headless Children knelt before Lilitu. "All hail
Lilitu!" They chanted as one being.
Lilitu's shape surveyed the gathering before her. All of them were forced to
remain kneeling. Receiving the homage of her Headless Children, framed by
the spectacle of the terror she inflicted by her mere presence, the new
Goddess was clearly in her element.
Her figure addressed the assembly. "Thank you for coming, my Children. I
sense a certain exhilarating expectancy in the air of this room-a
premonition, if you will, that greatness and glory are close at hand."
Everyone had their heads low as Lilitu's form continued. "I appreciate the
sacrifices that many of you have had to make in order to be with me on this
momentous occasion. You have crossed vast distances and braved great danger
to reach this meeting place, isolated deep behind enemy lines."
She smiled, enjoying each word. "Let me assure you, therefore, that the
decisions I reach here, and the challenges that you are called upon to meet
in these coming days, will give humankind cause to tremble." She waited
patiently for this words to sink in.
Swallowing hard, Rasputin was the first to talk. "We obey you, Mother. What
is your command? Shall we push forward our preparations for the siege over
the human world?"
Lilitu's shape laughed, a demonic sound that filled the chamber. "But that
is exactly what I have been attempting to relate to you, my Children," she
said in polite disagreement. "There is not going to be any siege. This is
the end! I have come to help humankind perish by mutual slaughter, and then
sow the earth with a better seed. Only my believers will survive. I'm
talking about genocide. It happens, now and then. I have come to help human
race do the one thing their kind excels at ... dying!"
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