Gemini

Chronicles of Marduk

Gemini

Goma and Eve fly like frightened animals out into the bleak desert wasteland. They are hunted, prey. Hot on their heels are two killer androids, the biproducts of a genocidal supermachine called The Compiler, which has created a clone for every human being with the single intent of eradicating the human race and replacing it with its’ own machine drones.

They are twins these two, the last of their small colony of hedge witches formerly known as the Daughters of Aradia. They both have power, but for the most part it is still untapped power. Their teacher told them they had boundless potential, but now like the rest she is dead and they are left alone. Together. Alone.

They have fled into the vast, unforgiving wasteland for two reasons. First of all for survival. These machines, called Processors, kill their human counterparts on sight, no questions asked. So it was either run or die, so they ran.

The second reason is the prophecy. In the legends of their clan there is an ancient tale of a hero, most terrible to behold, called Marduk. Marduk was the son of the King of the Gods and when the first great battle between the forces of light and darkness was fought he was charged by his father the king of taking up the command of the forces of good. So mighty Marduk went forth with his legions and fought the ancient forces of evil, the arcane powers known as the 7. After a cataclysmic conflict he was victorious and he chained the enemy commander, the Dread Emperor Cthulhu, to the Great Abyss.

According to this same legend the ancient god will return to save the world from these forces of Darkness when they return. Trouble is no one knows of Lord Marduk’s resting place and the rite involved in summoning him is most perilous and rumored to be potentially fatal. But these are desperate times and time for the Earth is running out.

“Keep moving, Eve!” Goma hollers out to her. She is a full ten steps behind him, just like she always has been. Always slower and weaker, Eve relies more on feelings than does her bolder, stronger brother. “If it catches you you’re done for!”

The mindless, heartless machines draw closer, their eyes fixed and emotionless. They are unbelievably swift and it is all that the twins can do just to stay ahead of them. One of the androids teleports, moving swifter than sight, and it appears on the other side of Eve. As it reaches for her she twists her body instinctively, causing its powerful fingers to graze her as it narrowly misses in the attempt. “Move, Eve!” Goma shouts as he pushes at his own pursuer with a focused wall of force.

They are passing through the vast stretch of desert on the lower Arabian peninsula known to the locals as the Empty Space. Many are the legends and tales of the dastardly creatures that inhabit this place and every villager or traveling bedouin has a story of someone who mysteriously vanished in the night, never to be heard from again. Almost impossibly they encounter a pack of hunting ghouls as the sun hangs low on the western horizon. They are sniffing and combing the area for corpses, their primary source of food.

“Come on” Goma calls out to her telepathically. “We can use the ghouls as cover and slip away from the androids!” The ghouls clutch and grab at Eve and Goma as they blend into their midst, desperate to lose their dogged pursuers. In mere moments they are flanked, surrounded on every side and even they lose sight of the androids. The sun sets as icy cold descends on the desert plains. The slobbering, snarling ghouls close in around them, pulling at their limbs as they howl in pitiful tones in their forgotten tongue. Goma tries to struggle but the ghouls are impossibly strong, and there are so many of them. Fading to black.

Suddenly there is a brilliant flash of hot white light, which causes the ghouls to scatter. A lone witch emerges from the light with a long scythe in his right hand and a flame in his left. The witch promptly refocuses, setting his sights on the determined androids, and he looses a chain of fireballs from his left hand which batter the second processor, singeing his chestplate. The first android ignores the newcomer and trudges doggedly toward Goma, who is coming to after nearly blacking out a moment prior. The stranger seizes the living machine with an invisible hand of force, lifts it high up into the air and incinerates it with a searing bolt of lightning from the sky.

Now the witch impossibly spawns two black wings like those of a giant crow and, launching himself skyward, he charges up his scythe with icy energy as he raises it above his head. Then in one fell swoop he descends, bringing the proverbial hammer down and shattering their grim pursuer into over a thousand pieces. As the stranger turns toward the two frightened teens he looks as if his entire body is aflame, and the air around him pulses with energy. “I am Witchfire” he announces, nodding slightly in their direction.

Eve clambers to her feet first, smiling her graceful smile as she makes her way fearlessly over to their savior. She is a vision of beauty and grace, a young girl of 16 without malice or ill will in her naive little heart. Her long blonde hair dances on the desert breeze, which is chilling after nightfall. And her piercing green eyes are the stuff that cause civilizations to fall. Eve’s skin is the white of a soft cream and her build is slight, as if a stiff wind would break her in half. She has a shy, yet curious nature and is entirely without any sense of insecurity or self-consciousness, like a small child.

“I am Eve and this is my twin brother Goma” Eve replies. Witchfire grunts softly before turning his back on them and heading into a lower slope of dunes. “The desert is a dangerous place at night, especially The Empty Space. We had better take shelter until morning. While you two sleep I will keep watch and look for water. I know a trick or two.”

“But isn’t the desert impossible to survive during the day?” Goma chimes in. “Won’t the heat cook us alive?”

“You are quite right, of course” Witchfire snaps. “But for now you need your rest, both of you. The Empty Space eats virgins like you for breakfast.”

Goma consents grudgingly and when Witchfire finds them an underground cavern with shelter and a source of water, he and Eve bed down for the night. Witchfire gives them another warning before ducking back out into the cold night. “Take care not to light any fires, children. The wastes are home to every beast imaginable and fire only draws them to you.”

When he has gone Goma and Eve talk to one another telepathically, a habit from their lost childhood. “I like him!” Eve chimes brightly. “Well I don’t!” Goma snarls. “He thinks he is better than us and how do we really know we can trust him?”

Eve cannot understand this about her brother, for she is naturally trusting, and as transparent as a clear mountain spring. But Goma is different, he is filled with violence and anger. Ever since their parents died he began to change. It was like he was angry at the world, the whole world, and he wanted to fight it.

Goma is a little taller than his sister, with a sinewy build and dark complexion. His body has an absence of hair, and even his eyebrows are so thin as to seem drawn on with a pencil. He has dark brown eyes so dark and intense they almost appear black. Like her he is plainly dressed in the garb of a desert nomad, a hooded cloak made of sackcloth.

Still restless Goma jumps to his feet, making his way down to the underground spring. The earthen ground of the cave slopes gradually down and is riddled with stones covered in a thick green moss. Tiny white spiders eat the moss as the scuttle back and forth across the stones. There are so many of the spiders that it gives Goma a start, but he is no victim of fear, so he presses forward. He stoops down by the stream, filling his hands with the fresh water and scooping it to his mouth. But he is very thirsty from their earlier desert foray so at length he gets down on all fours to gulp the water like a beast.

Goma awakens in mid morning, facedown by the side of the underground stream. Witchfire has returned and by the light of day they can make out considerably more about his appearance.

He is in his mid 20s by his appearance, and noticeably scarred in several places on his face, hands and neck. The rest of him is concealed beneath a long black cloak, which flies out behind him as he moves. His every movement is nimble, improbably graceful like a cat. His jet black hair is slicked back and his pale skin seems to resist the scorching sun overhead. With a snap of his fingers he kindles a fire in the sticks he has gathered underground, and he promptly begins cooking breakfast by spearing some meat with a stick and searing it in the hot flames.

“Who are you?” Goma begins. “And what are you doing out here in the middle of this desert?”

Witchfire begins to speak, his eyes still deep within the dancing flames before him. He has a pot of coffee at his feet, and he stoops to pick it up then heats it slowly over the fire. “You are a curious one, Goma Kish. You are so full of questions, aren’t you? For now it is enough to say that I am a benefactor, one who is fairly sympathetic to your cause no less.”

“How do you know my name?” Goma interrupts. “And why did you help us back there?”

Witchfire smiles painfully, grimacing. “I have already told you. I am a benefactor who shares in your cause to some extent. Who I am or where I am from is irrelevant, especially given your current circumstances, Goma. Most of the Earth is being laid bare, and this violent incursion of machines has left the streets red with the blood of the fallen. We are few now, very few, but we must fight on. The struggle is real and things are only about to get worse.

“For now you must concentrate on the means of your own survival. You and your sister came out into the wasteland rather rashly, because you had no other alternative. This fact alone has left you both unprepared for the situation in which you currently find yourselves. In other words you both know nothing about how to survive The Empty Space, so I will show you.

“Firstly we must live by nightfall, for the searing sun in the day will make short work of us. By day we must coat our faces in mud, burying ourselves up to the neck. In this fashion we will conserve our energy before rising to move around at night. There are water sources availible in the desert, if you know where to look. The underground spring is one of them, and there are vast reserves underground provided one knows where to look. By night we will get our water from this source, but if we are near no spring we must resort to other means, getting water from insects and corpses.”

“Corpses!” the twins echo in unison, their faces twisted in confusion and horror.

“Desperate times it is said call for desperate measures” Witchfire replies. “And by eating the white spiders who eat the green fungus you can acquire the means to see the shades and demons which traverse the Empty Space. This too is a necessary skill for your survival, for there are many scavengers of the desolate wastes who do not wear skin.

“Eating the white spiders will grant you second sight, allowing you to see beings called lars, ghosts which linger near their burial place. And if you beat the scavengers of the night to a corpse you will find your water, as well as your source of meat.”

Goma erupts at this suggestion. “What? You expect us to feed on the dead? Are you out of your mind?” Eve remains silent, but her face is a mask of supressed horror. She is gentle by nature, so this idea has left her somewhat in a state of shock.

But Witchfire continues, disclosing the necessary details. “Learning to spot packs of ghouls is also quite helpful, for wherever ghouls are food and water are sure to be nearby in the form of corpses. Then there are the chaklah, bat-like ghosts who scavenge the souls of the recently deceased. There are many scavengers in the Empty Space, and this must be taken into account for you to survive it.”

The strange, macabre quality of his information gives them pause, even the brash Goma. For several minutes the twins fall silent as they contemplate the monumental task before them. And for the first time in years they close their thoughts to one another, temporarily severing their telepathic link. Eve does this sometimes intentionally when Goma goes to a dark place. This she does to protect the integrity of her mind and the clarity of her spirit, which is the essence of who she is.

The silence is broken by Witchfire yet again, and his voice seems like thunder in the contemplative stillness of the underground cave. “For seven more hours it is day, so we must remain underground. When dusk falls then each of you should eat three of the white spiders, no less and no more.” This said he ducks into one of the tunnels and disappears.

Goma and Eve are wide awake now and well rested, so they are at a loss for what to do until nightfall. Eve decides to sit by the stream and gather her three spiders. They run up and down her arms as if magnetically drawn to her by some ancient and mysterious force. This done she lapses into a deep meditative trance, deadening her mind to her surroundings. Sometimes when she was younger she would do this for hours, and she found she was able to block out most anything.

Goma is restless, so he looks around the cavern for something to do. Finding only darkness, rocks, moss and spiders he gives up. He is hungry so he hunts and is able to spear some fish in the stream. He roasts two of them, one for himself and the other for his sister, then he drifts contententedly off to sleep.

He dreams of beatiful women frolicking in a lush garden by the side of a gentle spring. One of the women catches his eye, a vision with bright red hair which hangs down to her gentle, seductive waist. Their eyes meet and he is trapped, lost in her beauty and her charms. Easily she winds her way over to him, sliding her velvet hand under his eager chin. She leans in, whispering softly in his ear and he can feel her hot breath on his skin. He has never been with a woman before and his heart races wildly in anticipation. She turns her head and her silky hair brushes his cheek. He is in heaven, and if he is dreaming he has no wish to awaken.

He closes his eyes and they are alone, together in the darkness of the cave. He looks around for Eve but she is still asleep, off in the secret place where she goes. “I want you” he tells the strange woman, who has eyes of fire and skin of ice. She smiles at him and leans over him, pushing him gently to the ground on his back. She slides her delicate frame gracefully on top of him and his heart pounds in his chest. He feels at any moment it may explode, but he does not care. She opens her mouth and her teeth are sharp and pointed like daggers. This fact alone alarms him before she bends over him, licking the side of his neck voraciously. He has lost all control, and though there are alarms in his mind he cannot fight his rampant desires. The creature of the night, carefully disguised, has him at her mercy, for he is only a boy. She opens her mouth of daggerlike teeth to bite him and suck out not only his blood but his life force, the sustenance on which these monsters feed.

Goma falls back, a helpless victim of his dreams and desires. Part of him doubts the reality of this intense dream, but he is in a trancelike hypnotic state, so he is like putty in her hands. The demon lunges for his neck when suddenly a projection of his sister Eve appears behind the monster. Eve merely touches the feeder on the back with the palm of her hand, which burns cleanly into the creature’s flesh, scorching it to fill the air with the acrid smell of burning unholy flesh. The billowing smoke is thick, causing Goma to cough violently then awaken. The demon shrieks vile curses at him then vanishes into the darkness of the cave.

Goma is dumbfounded. “Eve! How did you know? How did you do that?”

“That was a Lamashta, a daughter of Shub. You should be more careful, brother.” Her warning delivered, Eve sidles over to her place by the riverside and seats herself, surrendering her mind to the gentle caresses of deep meditation. Goma, for his part, is much too restless to sleep. So he keeps watch, making his way out to the entrance to stare into the blinding sun, then down into the depths of the riverbed to gaze into the deep darkness there.

Eve is having a vision of a placid field, herself sitting there in the tall grass and the warm sun. It is peaceful there in her world, where no evil can touch them and no harm can come to them. She remains there in blissful repose, her consciousness drifting out to become one with the universe. She is a tree, her branches tossing meekly in the breeze while her deep roots penetrate into the misty unremembered past of her ancestors. Then without warning an animal plunges into the field, making like a dart straight for her. It is about the size of a medium dog though it moves too fast to see in much detail. It erupts explosively through the meadow, pounding thunderously toward her. Eve is at a loss for what to do so she resolves to calm her mind, for she knows that no projection can hurt her. But still the beast bounds on and on, carrying with it a fearful aura of thick spiritual darkness. ‘Its energy...I have never felt anything so dark, so cold.’ She thinks these thoughts almost desperately, hoping to awaken from this nighmarish dream.

“Do not fear the Lalassu. It feeds on your fears.” She hears these words as if they are the wind but then she opens her eyes to see a shape there on the crest of a hill at the far end of the field. It is an old man cloaked and wearing a broad brimmed hat standing in the middle of the orchard. He stoops to draw a shape on the ground at his feet, a star with five points. The man looks up, his eyes are fire, and again he speaks. “The Elder Seals.”

Then, moving like a shifting shadow, he approaches her, appearing here then disappearing there. She wonders to herself if he is a ghost or an angel, but there is a strange familiarity to his presence. The man rings a bell deep inside her mind, a recollection of a memory long forgotten or misplaced. He appears and tosses her an amulet, which bears a shape resembling an upside down 4 connecting two dots. ‘The Elder Shape’ she thinks and she awakens.

Eve wonders to herself regarding the identity of this stranger who aided her in her dream. Until nightfall she drifts in and out of consciousness, half awake and half dreaming.

Witchfire returns a full hour before nightfall and the three of them eat their three spiders apiece. Eve gently sucks them into her mouth off the tips of her fingers, for they are still crawling on the surface of her skin and clothes, three and no less, like prisoners waiting for execution. Goma lunges at his, snaring them with his quick fingers then plunging them into his mouth. Their taste is bitter with a burst of intense juice upon biting. Within a minute all three of them are hallucinating heavily, now able to peer into the spirit world where so many untold horrors stalk. Their sight turns green, like they are hunters looking through a nightvision scope and fanstastical marvels dance before their eyes.

Goma sees a vast hall where the dead are arrayed, past warriors who died valorous deaths on the battlefield. This is his heaven, for at his heart he is a warrior, born and bred. Eve sees thick darkness all around them, through which there swims grim, grasping apparition which haunt their every step. There are packs of those dogs that hunted her in her dreams, gleaming ghostly white with mottled black spots. Their teeth are curved like carving knives and their haunting eyes chill her soul to look in them. They are black pools of darkness, and the emptiness she sees there is more terrifying than her darkest dream.

“Come” Witchfire beckons, making his way toward the mouth of the cave. “We have far to go and a short time to get there.” “Where are we going?” Eve queries innocently. “Irem.”