Michael Griffo - Unwelcome

Before Amir could even move his arms, they were thrown up over his head as Ronan grabbed him in an old-fashioned wrestling hold, his arms underneath Amir’s shoulders, his webbed hands pressing against the back of his head. Startled, Amir began to twist and turn his body to free himself, but Ronan was too strong. Amir felt himself being pulled away from The Well, being forced to rise, and he pressed his arms against Ronan’s, but his lean arms were no match for Ronan’s muscled frame.

“Let go of him!” David roared.

Encouraged by David’s voice, Amir sunk his fangs into Ronan’s forearm, biting at his flesh like a rabid dog. Crying out in pain, his scream swallowed up by the ocean, Ronan ripped his arm from Amir’s mouth, a trail of blood the only thing that now connected the two boys.

Free, Amir swam with renewed energy toward The Well, David’s passionate voice pushing him forward. He was going to do it, he was going to ensure his place in history, when suddenly he felt something like a riptide engulf him, toss him to the side. He thought it was Ronan, but one quick glance behind him and he saw that he was alone.

Undaunted, he started to swim again, but felt another surge crash into him, this time into his chest, harder, with more force, and for the first time, he thought he wasn’t going to reach his destiny. Even if he thought he would die, Amir still would have agreed to this mission to ensure his legacy, but he was immortal, he couldn’t die, anyway. David would never put such a loyal, obedient follower in harm’s way. When the water started to churn at his feet, he didn’t realize that’s exactly where he had been placed.

The same voice that told Ronan to come to The Well now ordered him to stay back, to come no farther or risk death. He had done his job; he had made sure the enemy entered the hallowed ground alone, and now The Well would make sure the vampire understood he was trespassing and would have to pay the price.

Ronan watched in awe as The Well began to coil and bend in shape. It wasn’t the real Well at all, but a hallucination, a decoy, a mirage that led Amir farther into the depths of the ocean to make him think that he had found their life force. How fitting that during David’s phony Carnival for the Black Sun, it was The Well that had performed the most amazing trick, the most cunning act of deception. Yes, it was cruel; yes, Amir was about to lose his life, but first and foremost The Well and all its descendants, all the creatures of Atlantis, would be protected. Forcing himself to swim toward the surface of the water, Ronan had never felt more proud of his race.

As he was being sucked lower and lower into the belly of the ocean, spinning wildly within the grip of the whirlpool, Amir felt the sting of salt water on his tongue and soon became aware that the air in his lungs was being replaced with water. Now, David, take me out of this now, he silently shouted. He had no idea if David could hear him, the rush of the water whirling around him was so loud, he couldn’t even hear himself, but David had to hear him. He was the headmaster, their leader, he could hear everything, he could do anything. Then why wasn’t he swooping in to pull him out? Why wasn’t he freeing him and placing him where he belonged, next to David on his very own throne? Why was he letting the darkness win?!

“Because sometimes the darkness is too powerful.”

That’s what Edwige told herself. That was the response she heard in her mind when she asked why she was here in the darkness instead of at her children’s side. She wasn’t feeling guilty, she was merely curious. She knew that her place was next to her children, to try and keep them safe, help them fight whatever game David was playing, and not in a strange bed making love. But that’s where she was and she only assumed it was because the darkness had finally proven too strong to resist.

She didn’t realize it, but she physically felt just as Amir did. She felt as if she was being pulled against her will deeper and deeper into an unknown realm that she didn’t want to enter, that she didn’t want to witness, and yet it was her fate, it was a place where she was destined to go. She, however, was determined not to go there alone. If she concentrated very hard, if she narrowed her eyes a little bit more, Vaughan looked just like Saxon.

Shielding his face from the alarming vision, Ronan shot through the surface of the water. Below, Amir’s body was shredded into a million tiny pieces, each one jutting into the darkened sea like a ray of light. The explosion was so strong that it rose from the bowels of the ocean and nipped at Ronan’s feet, so strong that it reached out to everything that was connected to Amir, including David. With no warning and an unmerciful roar, his mirror, his window into the lives of his followers, shattered along with Amir.

Splinters of glass showered down upon David like rain, cutting into his exposed flesh, his hands, ripping open his suit. One pointed piece of glass fell slowly, almost deliberately, slicing the side of his face through the center of his eye down his cheek to the curve of his jaw. As the blood began to trickle from his open wounds, into his eyes, he fell to his knees blindly, the remnants of the mirror crunching underneath him, and prayed to Zachariel for leniency. “Heal me, heavenly Father,” David begged. “Restore my vision. Allow me to serve in your holy image until you have been avenged, until our purpose has been achieved!”

David shivered as he felt the hand of Zachariel touch the crown of his head and he felt his wounds ebb into his skin, felt the two disjointed pieces of his eye fuse back together, felt the blood lift and disappear. Such a wonderful, charitable god, David thought, but Zachariel was not through bestowing gifts upon his most loyal disciple. If David was to win this war, he needed every advantage. He felt Zachariel’s touch travel from his head to the middle of his spine and then he knew what Amir felt like just before his body exploded.

“Ahhhh!!!!” The pain that ripped through David’s body was agonizing. It was as if two jackhammers were placed on opposite sides of his back and were drilling holes through his skin, past his muscle, into his bone, until they emerged through his chest. “Ahhhhh!!!” David’s scream flooded the room. He wanted to form words, but his mind wasn’t functioning, it was only processing the arrival of a beautiful, breathtaking pain.

When he felt the first wing rip out from his shoulder blade, he lurched forward, palms crashing into the floor, splintering the wooden slats, he barely had enough strength not to collapse entirely. The second was even worse, and the excruciating pain sent him flying forward, facedown onto the floor. He stayed there, fists clenched, eyes shut tight, as he felt the wings lengthen and grow until they took up almost the entire space of the anteroom. By the time his wings started to flap gently, stirring a cooling breeze in the room, the pain was a memory and David realized the transformation was complete.

Standing up, he saw that Zachariel had restored the mirror. He no longer saw Amir or the rest of his subjects, but he could see his new glorious self. David smiled as he saw two magnificent, powerful black wings flutter behind his massive shoulders. Finally he looked exactly like the archangel he so devoutly worshipped.

Inside, darkness was given more power to reign even as the first rays of light returned to resurrect the outside world.

Whether light returns after an evening of darkness or after an hour of unnatural shadow, it is welcomed. It’s a reminder that no matter how bleak, no matter how disheartening the world might look, there’s always hope. Standing on the shore of Inishtrahull Island, wet and exhausted, Ronan had to remind himself of that when he saw the fog evaporate completely to reveal Michael standing in front of Saoirse, but dangerously close to Jean-Paul.