A Reason to Live pt 3
*Disclaimer*
The following (part 3 of the series 'A Reason to Live') contains both mystical/metaphysical and Judeo-Christian Religious aspects. If you are offended by any/all of these subjects, you are strongly encouraged to avoid reading this or any subsequent works with the title 'A Reason to Live' that are written by me. Thank you for your compliance.
A Reason to Live pt. 3
As the man in black spoke, three conglomerate boulders behind him began to vibrate. The large stones, one weighing hundreds of pounds, suddenly rose into the air. Noticing the shocked looks on the faces of the staring tribals, the man turned around. Before he could react, the stones shot through the air, straight towards the figure.
Moving faster than any eye, human or otherwise, could see, the man was suddenly behind the projectiles. The stones arced, intent on colliding with the figure, drawn to him as if magnetically. The power armored figure moved again, and struck with his right fist. Dust and debris exploded outward from the where the man's fist hit the boulder. Deftly, the man pivoted and caught the second rock with his left elbow. Annoyed now at having his speech interrupted, the man clapped both of his armored hands together. A shockwave speed at faster than sound away from his hands, and contacted the stone. The waves split the rock into roughly equal pieces. Both halves dropped onto the plateau. Revealed in the rubble of the rocks were cracked, deep purple colored fragments.
"Now what have we here?" asked the man, his voice distorted by his helmet. Behind him, the crowd of tribal Furs was cheering, thinking this whole incident merely a display of power. He reached down with his right hand. The piece nearest to it vibrated, then leapt into the air and attached itself to his the armor on his hand. The purple shard began to sink into the armor, while at the same time, spikes grew from the armor over his knuckles on both hands. He quickly gathered the remaining pieces. Inside his helmet, the man began to smile. The matte black pauldrons of his armor began to distort, stretching to offer more protection. As the man began to address the crowd once more, spikes had sprouted from the now-solid pauldrons.
The jackal-priest walked back up the cellar stairs. He called out to the two Furs gathered around the table.
"So, will ye stay the night here, and continue yer journey in the morning, or will ye leave, and die like all the rest have?" The male Fur, a wolverine, answered his question.
"Well, I've talked it over with Roxie, and she thinks that we should stay. But what was that about others?" Roxie, a female eagle, was leaning over the table, studying a map of the region.
"Did I forget to mention them?" exclaimed the jackal. "Raymond," he said, "Did you really think you were the only person who the man in black ever contacted with a job offer? They accept the job, and then forget about it, just as you did. They usually go on the run, and something draws them through this particular stretch of wasteland. Five others, there were; two couples and a loner. They came through here, didn't like what I had to say, and took off. Always found their bodies about a day after they left here."
The sun was now begging to sink under the desert horizon. The creatures of the night, dormant during the heat of the day, began to awaken.
"Say listen, in case you two do sneak outta' here during the night, the man in black, he is ancient. Far older than even that pistol of yers, Raymond. Much more dangerous too. Even without his armor he's strong. But that armor of his, he made it himself from fragments of the tower that used to stand on this world."
"Now wait a minute. I've heard the tower legends, and they say it disappeared over two thousand years ago. He couldn't be that old, could he?"
"Raymond, the tower was one of four others scattered across this universe. Some people, namely me, believe that those four towers were the legs of the footrest of the Almighty Himself. In any case, they contain unquantifiable amounts of power, and if the man in black used the power in his armor correctly, he could live to be a billion years old, if not longer."
"How exactly does it help us to know this about him?" Roxanne asked, sighing.
"He is not merciful, but he is vain. Maybe with everything you now know about him, maybe you could impress him and get to live as his slaves. But that's just a thought. Anyway, it's getting on time for supper, if you two would care to stay."
The wolverine's stomach growled audibly. The eagle, his wife, laughed. "Ray, we haven't done anything but sit here all day, how can you be hungry?"
A sheepish grin spread across the wolverine's face. "Well Roxie, half a can of beans isn't really a meal."
The jackal turned from the room and walked back down to the cellar. His voice drifted up through the open door.
"You two got any special requests or allergies I should know about?"
Roxanne called out in reply "No, were not allergic to anything, and whatever you have is fine."
"No more beans" added Raymond. From downstairs, the voice of the jackal drifted up again.
"LORDGod I pray, thank you for this food You have given us. I pray let it nourish our bodies, as You, LORD, nourish our souls. Thank You for sending Your Son to die to pay the price for my sins, O God. In Jesus' name I pray, amen."
Soon after his prayer, the squeaking of the stairs announced the return of the jackal. Balanced on his arms was a platter covered in food. He set the food on the table.
"Dig in. If you two are thinking of leaving in the night, don't eat too much or you won't be able to run very well."
The three Furs began to eat. Roxanne broke the relative quiet. "Does all this food come from around here?" Raymond, his mouth full of sweet barrel cactus, nodded his head as if to indicate that he wanted to know as well.
"Some of it comes from around here anyway. The cactuses mainly, the rest comes from a small farming village about 12 miles north of here." Roxanne stared in alarm at the roasted drumsticks on the platter. "Don't worry, Roxanne" said the jackal in a reassuring tone. "That's not human, Fur, or avian meat; its desert lizard."
The meal continued in silence, save for the sounds of eating. This time Raymond broke the quiet.
"We heard you talking to someone down there, Kyle. Who was it?"
The jackal Kyle replied casually "I was talking to my God, Raymond. Just thanking Him for all He has done for me."
"Kyle," began Roxanne, "now I just have to know. What religion are you?"
Raymond whispered to his wife "Baby, that was kinda rude, what if he doesn't really want to talk about it?" Underneath the feathers on her face, Roxanne was blushing.
"Oh, I'm sorry Kyle. It's fine if you don't want to talk about it, I was just curios is all."
"It's fine Roxanne. It was originally a human religion, and it still is, mainly. There are some Fur practitioners like me, but we are scattered. The humans called, and I guess still call it Christianity." The meal continued in relative silence.
The members of the crowd had long since retreated into the surviving buildings, both to eat and of fear for the night. The man in the black powered armor, now fully two inches taller, strode towards the village longhouse, emerging unscathed from both the mutants and the fires they caused. He pushed the hide flap away from the entrance. The Furs inside were mildly surprised at his entrance, but soon forgot about him as they went about their usual activities.
Entering the chieftain's portion of the longhouse, he was surprised to find no guards.
He called out, his slightly metallic voice booming in the small enclosure.
"So, you are the leader of this tribe." It was not a question, but a statement.
A figure lying on a crude bed got up, and addressed the man.
"Yeah, I guess I would be the chief now. My father died in the battle, so yes, I am the chief. What do you want, demon?"
The imposing figure eyed the supposed chief. He was a wolf, scrawny, but not overly thin. He was short, compared to even other males in the village, about five foot three, but still young, not older than 19. He had not been badly burned in the fire, only about a quarter of his body was covered in the ash grey fur. The rest was jet black. His eyes were yellowish, and bright enough to reflect off the human's black faceplate.
"You disrespect me, cur. I am no demon. I have a proposition for you and your people. Follow me, serve me, and become incredibly wealthy. Food, weapons, females; your tribe will have it all, and you will still be their leader. If you reject my offer of goodwill and prosperity, I will leave, for I have found more here than I was looking for. Accept my offer and then disobey me, and you will wish I had let you all die on the battle field."
The tribal leader curtly responded. "It is true. You are a demon. But we do not fear you; our tribe's magic is strong. Still, your claims are intriguing. Prove to me that you have the power to do as you say, and I will ask the people and they shall decide."
"You and your people should fear me, but there will be time for that later. Tell me what you would have me do, then, and I shall do it."
"No! I will not tell you! You claim to be powerful, you can find out for yourself!"
"A simple enough feat." The man strode forward, until his armor brushed against the body of the wolf. Before the young chief could react, an armored hand gripped him by the jaw and lifted him until he was face to face with the human. Through the one way faceplate, the man could see his helmet reflected in the wolf's eyes.
"You can hide nothing from me, mongrel. You can hide your subconscious from yourself but not from me."
"Hey! What are you-uhhhhnn..." The wolf lapsed into unconsciousness. Inside his helmet, the man grinned. He released his grip, and the wolf fell to the floor.
"Such a simple task; so primitive, so...animal." The wooden support column in the room caught fire as the man stared at it. The fire burned quickly and did not spread, revealing not ash beneath but gleaming steel. After a few seconds more, the man left the room. He sat down on the floor. The other Furs began to crowd around him, fascinated with his armor. For the time, the human let them be. He waited, soon, the wolf would wake up, and he would see an example of the man's power. Though the wolf denied it consciously, in his subconscious mind was a deeply ingrained desire to have a lioness for a mate. Gagged and secured to the post, was a lioness.
Among other things, the man in black could not create life. To fulfill his task, he simply brought a lioness in from somewhere else on the planet. In reality, he cared not where she was from, he cared only that the tribals would soon be his, and ticket or not, he would be much closer to his goal. As he sat waiting, the tribals around him began to pair off and leave for their private quarters. Eventually, only a lone Fur was left, a female fox. She was the most badly burned survivor, covered completely from head to toe in ashen grey fur. Her vixen ears twitched back and forth, listening intently to something. Her sensitive nose began to sniff at the air.
She turned to face him. "I know what you did, human." The man in black laughed.
"How stupid must you people be to try to fight the gahenna instead of moving out of the way?" The man in black asked, still laughing.
"It was our previous chief's decision to fight the tar-creatures. Why would you leave our chieftain with a lioness? Even if he does survive his encounter with her, it will destroy us, seeing our leader mating with one of our enemies."
To this the man replied only with more laughter. Though the armor was made of the tower shards, it could not handle all the energy gained from the additional fragments. The man in black knew he had to bleed off the excess power, so he began to concentrate. Around the village, granite walls rose off the plateau floor. Great watchtowers sprouted from pebbles. Seeds which had lain dormant for years suddenly germinated, sprouted, and grew in seconds in to full size trees. Satisfied with the amount of power he had used, the man got up from the ground and stepped outside to admire his work.
The sun was in its final stage of setting. The disappearing light summoned the desert creatures from their burrows. The fading sun cast a deep orange glow over the desert floor.
The three Furs inside the small adobe structure had finished their meal. One of the three, a jackal, cleared his throat and began to speak.
"So now that you've had something to eat and had some time to think a little bit, do you two have an idea of what you're going to do now?"
"Well Kyle," began Roxanne, "We had a plan before we met you. Ray and I were going to cross the rest of the desert and make it to the mountains. But now I guess I don't know."
"Yeah, we heard that there were some strongly anti-human cities past the mountains. I had hoped that they could help us out, but now with what you've told us..." The wolverine trailed off, the despair evident in his voice. The jackal spoke up again.
"I've got a semblance of a plan, but you two might not like the way it sounds. Now the man in black, the power drove him mad long ago. However, he still holds himself to a twisted moral code of sorts. If you, or we, give him what he wants, he will leave both of you alone. In this case, the ticket he requested from you, Raymond, eleven years ago." The wolverine broke in with his own question.
"Okay, okay, I know why he's been after me all these years. But why does he need a ticket to get off planet? If he is so powerful, why doesn't he just build his own rocket or whatever?"
"Raymond, even my God, the Creator and Ruler of the Totality of Existence, cannot force people to love Him, and He is infinitely more powerful than the man in black."
"Wait, so you're saying that the man in black needs someone to do his work for him?" asked Roxanne.
"Exactly" responded the jackal. "However, it is of utmost importance that he does not actually leave the planet."
"Why does it matter if he gets of the planet or not?" asked Raymond.
"Would you let a psychotic who believes he is a god loose on an innocent galaxy? And besides, one day all the relics of the tower will be gone from this planet; his power will slowly run out. But if he is loose to wander existence, he could find one of the towers."
"Why would we give him a ticket to one of the shuttles then?!" demanded Raymond.
"He did not specify that the ticket be modern, or to a shuttle that is even there. But enough of this for now; it is getting late. I assume that you two will want the bed, and that's fine."
Kyle turned and walked to the cellar door. Opening it, he stepped through it and down into the cellar, closing the door behind him. The other two Furs, perhaps tired after a long and eventful day, climbed in to the bed, pausing only to remove their shoes. Outside, night had fallen in earnest, and the creatures of the night roamed across the wastes. To be continued...