3-8-17 Vengeance and the Gray Lady

The Fatal Attraction Match has long ended. The halls of AAW’s center are empty, echoing with the sound of an air conditioner in its last months of life. The owners of AAW, Dale and Ace Andrews, wander the halls, looking lost.

Dale puts a hand on Ace’s shoulder. “They’re not here. We’ve looked everywhere.”

“I know,” Ace says, “but – there’s only one exit. They can’t have gotten out. I just-“

“We’ll find them,” Dale says, “We’ll find them and we’ll bring them home. But they’re not here, and you need rest.”

Ace Andrews sighs, and puts his hand on the wall. His life’s work, and it could be ripped away in a moment. So many things have changed in the last few days, so many things spiraling out of his control. He really thought that maybe he could fix this one thing.

But they’re gone.

Dale takes Ace’s arm, and they wander out into the sunlight.

If only they’d searched a little longer. If only they’d walked into the darkness instead.

Pain courses through Father McDonnell’s body. Lightning crackles across his skin. For moments, his world is only darkness and fire. In others, he can see creation in its entirety, from the ants crawling around his feet to the very seat of God Himself. It is too much. It is pain and it is glory and it is music and it is cacophony and the world is spinning on its axis too fast and everything is moving in slow motion.

He is alone.

He is never alone.

She is here.

From the moment the Grey Lady ancient, crumbling hand touched his, his world changed forever. He would hate her until the moment he died. He would serve her until the universe exploded. He is, now and forever, her Cleric. And he will bring her glory and her love to AAW, but he will bring none of her Mercy.

His target is clear. Sanuine Arcane must be destroyed at all costs. Nothing else matters.

Across the room, in the shadows, Vengeance feels no pain. Only a dull, numbness in his stomach. He rests on one knee, his sword planted into the ground, and a grey tabard around his shoulders.

“You needed far less…persuasion.” The voice is like honey and vinegar all at once. It dances up your spine and sings in your mind.

“You had what I wanted. The power to destroy him forever.”

“I thought you knew Sanguine Arcane’s weakness.” The voice is mocking, but lightly. Like a teasing lover.

“Not Sanguine Arcane. Him. John Khellegher. The one man who held me back all of this time. The man who refused to put on the mantle of Vengeance fully, who engaged in games with Sanguine Arcane. You put him to rest for me. I can be the God of the Damned again.”

“You shall have no other god before me,” The Grey Lady says.

“Of course not,” Vengeance replies with a smile. “I am your Paladin.”

He stands, and offers a hand to his Lady. She rises like a feather from her throne of bones and takes his hand. Vengeance shivers a little. Pleasure? Pain? Even he isn’t sure.

Father McDonnell emerges from the shadows. His skin is pale and cracked, and his eyes shot with yellow. His priestly robes look as if they’ve aged a thousand years, and he wears an iron pauldron on his shoulder.

“Come, my Knights.” The Grey Lady says, “There is work to be done. And worlds to destroy.”