Judgement (The Twelve) Page 4

  Then again what the blue blazes had happened to him? He’d destroyed that thing with one punch. He suspected a touch would have down the trick just as good as a punch. His hand had been in close contact when it exploded. How had he healed himself so fast? There were just too many questions.

  Chris stood and facing them, “Lets get one thing straight; I come or go as I please. I choose to stay, get that? I choose to stay. Now answer me this, just who or what are you guys?” He demanded with his hands on his hips.

  Patch walked past eating on an apple, “Simple, we’re The Twelve. “ She blew him a kiss.

  Priest belched, “God’s chosen ones.”

  Heartless smirked, “We’re the Protectorate of the human race.”

  Rage added, “I prefer The Twelve.”

  Chris could count, “But there are only ten of you?”

  Heartless chuckled and moved to lean against the dinning table, “Boy can count.”

  “Why the leather….?”

  Speed flashed past on the way to the bathroom upstairs, sucking air along in his wake, “Not important kid. Need a dump” The bathroom door slamming shut on the second floor a fraction of a second later.

  Chris was angry, none of this made any sense. He saw an old TV set in the corner, walked over and pressed the on button. Of course it didn’t work, “You could at least live in a decent place!”

  He was angry because he’d been forced to live in a fucking box. They had a house for Gods sake! Why live like this, are they simply squatters, “You guys have any money?”

  Slash sat down at the dining table next to Heartless. He pulled a wet stone from a pocket, spat on it and started to sharpen his knives, “This place gives us a roof over our heads. Don’t need luxuries, just food, showers and a bed. Of course we got cash, lots of it. Anvil collected plenty over the years and we helped add to it.”

  Chris had to ask, “How many years?”

  Slash smirked, “Oh a long, long, time.”

  Heartless turned and grinned down at Slash, “As in before Nelson lost his eye.”

  Slash laughed, “Before he was even born.”

  Heartless grinned from ear to ear, “Before his parents were even born.”

  “Or his great, great, grand……”

  Anvil snapped, “Don’t confuse the kid with details. Suffice to say we’ve got a very healthy budget.”

  Chris shook his head in disbelief, “If you are who you say you are how come we’ve never heard of you. I mean you guys could have killed Hitler for one thing, stopped the bloody war from happening!”

  The one called Priest answered, “We don’t interfere in the ways of mortals. God gave them the gift or curse, of independent thought. They stand or fall by there own actions.”

  Chris laughed, “Easy way out!”

  Anvil looked grim, “Not easy, far from it. Don’t you think we know we could have stopped that war or any other for that matter, before the mass killing starts. God forbids us to take action on that level. We deal with those creatures man has no defence against, thus protecting the balance between good and evil.”

  ‘Okay enough is enough’ Chris thought and started towards the door leading to the hallway and front door. ‘These guys are really messed up.’

  “Were you going kid?” Rage grumbled.

  Chris didn’t answer, he reached for the door handle, only to find Rage suddenly blocking his exit, “I said where you going?”

  “Leaving, going for a walk.” Chris tried to step around Rage.

  “No you’re not,” His bulk blocking the doorway.

  Anvil was talking quietly to Priest, he turned, “Rage don’t…”

  But Rage wasn’t listening; he reached out with one mighty fist, intent on gripping Chris by the coat front. But Chris’s hand flashed up and gripped Rage by the wrist, or part of it. Rage smiled at first, before looking baffled. He tried to pull free but couldn’t move. The room filled with the smell of burning hair. Chris looked down as a terrible pain drove up his arm, there was sudden pop! Followed by a flash of light from under his hand, Chris was suddenly and painfully, shoved away from Rage by some invisible force. Rage raised his arm in front of his eyes. The shape of Chris’s hand was a red shaped blister on his skin, minus the thick cover of black hair.

  Chris shook his own hand which was also burnt.

  “Ouch” Rage whispered in surprise as he stared at his wrist.

  Chris looked aghast; he never meant to hurt Rage, “I’m sorry.”

  Rage still staring at his arm, muttered, “Amazing!”

  Slash pushed away from the table, coming over up with Patch and Priest, they stared at the injury. Slash whistled, “First time I’ve seen Rage marked in any way.”

  Without thinking Chris reached up and touched the burn. For a second nothing happened then slowly the blister vanished and at the same time his own injury vanished.

  Rage smiled, “Well done, I think you and I will be friends, young one.”

  Anvil had approached silently from behind, he turned Chris gently around to face him, “First rule of the Twelve, we can never do harm to one another.”

  Anvil stared into Chris’s eyes, “Look will you… please… stay with us for awhile. You want answers as much as I do. You can have a bed all to yourself. As for your old clothes, they were not much more than rags so we threw them out. But you can keep those you’re wearing, unless you want some different stuff suitable for a teenager?”

  Chris raised an eyebrow, fingering his leather jacket, “Leather?” He asked.

  Anvil smiled, “They’re made special when I find a new reborn. It’s a sort of uniform that followed on from my first set of clothing. In my day everyone wore leather or hide. But you can keep those clothes and the leather jacket and this…”

  Anvil pulled out a wad of twenty pound notes and thrust them into Chris’s hand. Looking down he guessed he was holding about two hundred quid!

  Chris wasn’t stupid to miss a bribe when he heard and saw one, but managed a half smile and a quick nod, he was street wide after all and quickly put the cash in his jeans pocket, “Guess since you’ve not paedophile’s and since you’ve dressed, fed, washed and paid me. I can stay for a short while.”

  Patch squealed with delight, grabbed him by the arm, pushed Rage to one side, ( which was an act in itself quite amazing to watch) opened the door and started to drag him into the hallway, “Come on I’ll show you to a spare room,” and after a pause, “Then the bathroom.”

  She pulled him close and whispered in his ear, “I like you, but you do stink a bit.”

  “Hey I had a shower!” Chris commented.

  Patch grinned, “Ingrained! You need a bath as well and this time, try using soap.”

  After they had left the room, Hot Cross who had remained silent approached Anvil and spoke for them all,

  ” Is he the one?”

  Anvil placed his hammer head first on the floor, resting both hands upon its hilt, “If he’d died and been reborn I would say yes we’ve found him at last, but…..”

  Hot Cross finished for him, “Kid never died.”

  Each stood quietly, deep in thought for several minutes. Suddenly Huntress flew in through a door that led to the back of the house and the kitchen. Her white flowing hair swirled around her head, as her white sightless eyes fixated upon Hammer, “Several Shades are in the grounds.”

  Priest let out a bellow of surprise, “What!”

  “That’s not all, Edge and Claws are with them.”

  Heartless spat into the roaring log fire, “Not again! Hw the hell they find us so damn quick?”

  A quick whoosh of air and Speed appeared from upstairs, fastening his trousers, “Did I hear right?”

  Anvils head snapped to Hot Cross, “Get Patch and the kid down here. Where are the others?”

  “Slash is guarding the back door. Bulls eye is standing head to head with Edge.”

  “The fool!” exclaimed Priest.

  Anvil seized his weapon and started fo
r the door, “Speed, guard the front door with Rage. Tell Patch to stay with the kid in here. The rest follow me.”

  Chris heard the shouted instructions from the first floor landing. Patch was leading him towards a rear bedroom at the time and he quickened his pace instead of going downstairs, he wanted to see what was going on. Entering the back bedroom, he made his way to the window. A pair of faded orange coloured curtains where drawn across the dirt stained transom window. Carefully he lifted one corner of the curtains and peered down into the garden. Light spilled out from the open kitchen door and side window, illuminating a frightening scene.

  The rear walled garden of the old house once used to have two beautiful lawns, rose beds and several rows of carefully shaped shrubs amongst half a dozen Witch Hazel trees, covering nearly a third of an acre. Now it was just an overgrown jungle full of wild thorn bushes intermixed with rope like tendrils from Blackberry and Raspberry plants. But there was still a small clearing of garden grass trampled flat by dozens of shoeless clawed flat feet. Those feet belonged to Shades of different sizes and shapes, all standing hunched over, hairless, grey, naked, with slime covered bodies, oozing yellow puss from wide open fanged mouths.

  Chris’s eyes nearly popped out of his sockets when he saw the creature that stepped out of the shadows. Female in appearance, slender of body but with multi jointed elongated arms and legs. That took on the appearance of an obscene insect. She raised one long taloned hand to brush away black straight hair from out of her eyes. The gesture was grotesquely feminine in nature. Chris saw that she was also bare footed, each toe ended in long black talons like her hands. Weirdly, she was dressed in an old Victorian type ballroom gown, crudely cut away at the knees. The gown itself was ripped and frayed in places. So dirty, Chris had trouble seeing what colour it had originally been. She wore a string of pearls around her slender neck.

  Patch whispered close to his left ear, her breath caused goose bumps to shimmer across his skin. He found the nearness of her disturbing but in an unusually nice way, “Jesus that’s Edge and Claws!”

  Chris guessed she’d forgotten the rule about blaspheming,” What?”

  “The Dark Chris, the firkin Dark.”

  Outside on the overgrown lawn, Anvil slowly approached to within ten feet of the male that must be the one named Edge, his mighty weapon held at the ready. Chris noticed that the hammer now shone with a silver hue in the dark, it pulsated with raw power. He noticed to that the one called Claws kept glancing apprehensively towards Anvil’s weapon as she took a few steps back, away from him.

  Anvil addressed Bulls Eye, his voice easily reaching Chris behind the glass window, “Move out of the way.”

  Bulls Eyes hands were hovering over the grips of each of his 1880’s Samuel Colts Peacemaker revolvers, “I can take him Anvil.”

  Edge laughed and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. He was possibly half Asian in appearance; it was hard to tell as his face appeared to be constantly in shadow. Besides, his straight shoulder length damp black hair partially covered his eyes and face. He wore a gentleman’s dinner suit, including a thin black rotting bow tie. Like Claws his suit and shirt was cut and ripped in places. The shirt that must have once been white was now almost as black as his suit. Chris could just see the grips of what appeared to be swords, protruding from above and behind his left and right shoulder blades.

  “Swords against guns?” Chris whispered, “I read once, don’t bring a knife to a gun fight.”

  Patch gripped his shoulder, “Edge is the fastest thing ever kid. I wouldn’t go betting on Bulls Eye, he may be as fast as lightning but Edge is quicker and Bulls Eyes moved within range of those swords, stupid mistake.”

  Chris stared at Edge and felt something move inside him. What it was he had no idea but something was wrong. Edges laughter faded away to a low animal like snarl, flicking the hair out of his eyes, he addressed Anvil, asking for a formal truce, ending the request with a strangely polite bow from the waist. Anvil again ordered Bulls Eye to move to one side. Priest and the others flanked Anvil, not moving a muscle. Slowly, reluctantly, Bulls Eye obeyed him, moving over to stand so that he could cover Claws. She blew a kiss at him. One of the Shades sprang forward as if to attack Bulls Eye. The thing was a good eight feet away from Edge and yet in the blink of an eye, he not only covered the distance but drew one of his swords so fast, it just seemed to appear in his hand. With one quick and easy sideways cut, the Shade took a staggering step forward now minus its head before exploding into falling ash. Chris had never seen anyone but Speed move that fast.

  Edge’s voice was filled with venom, “I will be obeyed!”

  The rest of the Shades shuffled backwards, some groaning quietly in absolute terror. Claws merely laughed quietly and blew the falling ash away from her.

  Anvil had gone into a crouch with his hammer half raised to strike, slowly he uncoiled, “The only time you called for a Truce was in the year 1187.”

  Edges blade was dripping blood that hissed like acid when it touched the grass, killing it instantly. He shook the blade once then smoothly returned it to its scabbard.

  “Actually it was May the 29th 1189, a very important date for us both. Then again I don’t expect you to remember something as trivial as that!” Edge shouted back angrily.

  Anvil still held his weapon at the ready, but seemed to sag slightly at the shoulders, “I’ve put that date out of my mind. Say what you want then go.”

  For a second, anger was replaced by a sorrowful expression that flickered across his face. Only to be replaced again with anger as Edge spat on the grass, directly in front of Anvils feet, killing a patch of grass instantly, “Don’t tell me what to do, you couldn’t then and you can’t now!” He raged.

  Anvil spoke quietly, “Truce then.”

  With a great deal of self control, Edge calmed down, “Shall we talk about souls again? Remember when I said yours would be going straight to hell with mine if I had my way. Or shall we mention Chameleon? Have you found him yet?”

  Anvil remained silent, so Edge shrugged, “No? Well what about……him!” Edge shot a finger upwards to point directly at the window Chris was sneaking a peak out of. No he was pointing a finger directly AT Chris!

  Chris locked eyes with Edge and something stirred deep within him. Patch tried to pull him away but he shrugged her hand away and flung wide the curtains.

  Claws hissed like a cat, both taloned hands slashed at the air in front of her face. Priest blessed himself, something he hadn’t done in a long time and Huntress slowly removed an arrow from her quiver.

  Edge still pointing at the boy, turned his gaze upon her, “Don’t.” as if reading her intentions.

  Anvil risked a quick glance over his shoulder, shaking his head once at Huntress, before snapping his eyes back to Edge, “The kid?”

  Edge smiled, which didn’t suit his face, “You fool! The penny still hasn’t dropped.”

  Anvil shook his head, “He can’t be the one. He never died.”

  Edge, for some reason looked confused for a moment but recovered well.

  He started laughing, “So you still don’t know then.”

  Gesturing with a raised hand, a fat, slime covered older Shade, slowly limped slowly over until it stood cringing near to its master.

  “Look familiar?” Edge asked.

  He wasn’t talking to Anvil but looked up at Chris. Somehow his voice carried to Chris.

  “NO!!!!” Chris screamed. The glass pane in front of him exploded outwards into a thousand fragments. One flew across the distance that separated them, to lodge in the left Cheek under Edge’s eye. Slowly Edge raised a hand and almost gently as if with a great deal of reverence, plucked the sliver from his skin. A tiny speck of blood appeared, to flow down his cheek. He held the speck of blood smeared glass up for all to see. “Prophesy.”

  He dropped the glass fragment and touched a finger to the small rivulet of blood running down his cheek. He studied the reddened finger tip in great detail before lickin
g the blood gently from his finger, “Ah yes it is as I thought.”

  He showed Anvil his bloody cheek which was already healing,” Prophesy and point to me. I claim an equal to be gathered.”

  Slash moved slowly until he stood next to Anvil, “What the bloody hell is going on here?”