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The Fall of Babylon, Chapter 1This story may contain adult content. |
| Written by Nathan Weaver | |
| Wednesday, 18 June 2008 | |
 The fall of Babylon started with a murder following a series of slayings of children. Someone had been preying on children in Babylon, brutalizing their bodies and then drinking their blood. It was a gruesome sight. Agent Dean Ekron of The Bureau was called at midnight,
“Why me?” he asked, “It’s just a murder. Hand it over to Babylon’s finest—I’m tired and it seems easy enough.”
“Um, Ekron,” his superior spoke with nervous loss of words, “It’s not typical—it’s more than just a murder. It’s something else.”
Ekron threw his clothes on in a rush, his tie disheveled and his suit wrinkled. He grabbed his long, flowing black trench coat on the way out and put it on as he left his bachelor pad. He fought sleep the whole drive over to the scene of the crime, slurping coffee he grabbed from the all-night coffee shop adjacent his apartment building.
Parker Forest was a national park on the rich side of town; just northeast of inner city. The doctors, lawyers, judges and other bigwigs lived nearby Parker Forest. Criminal behavior rarely went down in Parker Forest or near it—that is, reported criminal behavior. Ekron was dismissing it as political mumbo-jumbo, some bigwig just threw a fit because something happened and demanded The Bureau take care of it.
When Ekron arrived at Parker Forest, he pulled in to find countless police cars, SWAT, Bureau mobiles and other various official vehicles. Some marked, some unmarked. He rolled his young, blue eyes and decided it was one big waste of taxpayer money.
He exited his car, put his fedora on and reached back into the car to get his coffee. He shut the door and saw his superior approaching,
“You’re here, too? Ridiculous,” Ekron remarked, taking a sip of his coffee.
“You better believe, it Ekron,” his superior started, “We have a situation—”
“A situation? I thought it was just a murder.”
“It ain’t just a murder, Ekron… it means something.”
Ekron rolled his eyes again and followed his superior past cops, homicide detectives, narcs, agents and so on. He eavesdropped as he passed,
“She gives me the willies…”
“I’ve never seen anything like it…”
“What does it mean?”
“All that blood…”
“It’s of Satan…”
Just before they reached an opening where Ekron could see SWAT standing about, guns drawn and other agents and officers, his superior stopped him and spoke sternly, “You’ll wanna draw your weapon, but don’t fire.”
“Fire at what? It’s a body,” Ekron said.
His superior took his coffee and threw it in the nearby trash can, “There’s something else—some beast or creature.”
Ekron pulled his pistol from its holster, beneath his left arm. He still thought everyone was losing it, but than he approached the center of attention. In the clearing, surrounded by the SWAT, officers and agents was a woman’s lifeless body. She was wearing an outfit that could have been used in a play or movie about ancient Rome; there was purple and scarlet. She had gold jewelry, pearls and other precious stones that Ekron couldn’t place at first glance. If she was from ancient Rome, she could have been the daughter of a magistrate or even Caesar himself. In one hand she held, in her death grip, a golden cup that was stained with its previous remains. On her forehead words had been etched into her skin and muscle, obviously postmortem because there was no great loss of blood. What blood had run from the carvings had run off neatly as if she was laying down when the deed was done, someone wanted to make sure it could be read. Ekron couldn’t make out any of the words, because her body was in constant motion as she was strapped onto a strange creature that kept moving about, bucking to and fro. It would stop occasionally and growl at its opponents, not liking being cornered. It was red, bore seven long necks with seven individual heads at the end of each neck. Each head seemed independent of the rest of the body, as if each head had its own brain and thought for itself. Ekron did a quick count and counted nine horns upon the beast’s heads. Some heads had horns, others had none. Blood dripped from the fangs of the seven heads; its four paws also had long claws that were also drenched in blood.
Ekron and his superior joined the line, guns drawn; Ekron spoke up, “What are we waiting on? Why don’t we kill it?”
“The nearest animal control is bringing sedatives and their largest cage,” his superior responded without turning his gaze from the beast, “We’re gonna try to take it alive.”
Everyone cringed, and skin crawled when all seven heads howled at once in unison. After this display, the beast lunged at a SWAT member and pulled him into the circle and began biting at him. Those present could hear the flesh ripping, the slurping of blood and crushing of bone; Ekron’s superior aimed his pistol to the heart and shouted, “Prepare to fire on my mark, men!!!”
“Aim for the heads,” Ekron screamed, “Somewhere there’s a brain controlling that thing!”
“FIRE!”
The gun fire rang out and each of the seven heads got mutilated with bullets and buckshot, eventually the right head was hit and the beast tumbled and collapsed. Everyone watched as the beast slowly twitched to a stop, its black blood draining and seeping into the ground. A slow smoke arose from the ground its blood touched, burning the grass.
Once it was determined that the beast was dead, Ekron rushed to the woman and read her forehead…
It read, “MYSTERY, BABYLON THE GREAT, THE MOTHER OF HARLOTS AND ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH.”
END CHAPTER. Copyright 2008 Nathan Weaver |
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