The Rise Of 188

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Book Excerpt

Chapter 1

The storm raged over Zeron Island, a black spot of forbidden land on the map of the Atlantic Ocean. It was just one hundred miles off the Florida coast. The place had long been condemned by the governments of the world because the history of chemical and biological weapons testing that had gone on here in the past.

This storm was filled with a terrible and strange rage as it lashed the black sand shores of the island. The chaos on the outside of this place was nothing compared to what was going on deep in the underground base. A group of madmen had taken up residence in this place of death to conduct a long-forgotten ritual.

The dark secrets of a world lost to the ages were meeting up with the ambitions of a man who had tasted what it was like to be powerful. He became addicted to this power, and like any addict, was willing to cross any line to get more of it.

The soldier stood there, bleeding from his eyes and the corner of his mouth in a badly lit round room that was filled with strange symbols carved into the metal walls.

"He says…he says it isn't enough blood.” Those would be the sacrifice offering's last words as he fell to his knees and slumped over to his side, dead before hitting the ground. The ones surrounding the pair in the circle they made dared not say anything.

The golden-eyed man standing mere feet away from the dead man, was furious, he had all that he needed. Everything this old book said, he’d followed its instructions to the letter. As he stared at this old tattered leather-bound book in his left hand had half a mind to throw it across the room in frustration, but resisted the urge.

“Okay, we’ll try again but that was a waste of a life,” he said quietly to himself.

He closed his eyes as those around him began to share quiet whispers about yet another failure in the summoning ritual. Each time it was attempted, the result was always the same.

It was a dead man or woman in the middle of the floor and the feeling of wasting their time over silly occult tomes in the air that just wouldn’t go away. The golden eyed man did his best to ignore them. He knew the power was real, he was living proof of it. It was the only reason they followed him.

The Codex was something he had searched many years for and spent a few more years studying and perfecting its main ritual, to summon one of great power, infinite power if the book was to be believed.

This old thing still wasn’t working for him, and he couldn’t understand why. He just had to be doing the ritual right.

The energy from the black words he spoke charged the sacrifice so full of negative energy that it ended up killing them from the inside out. It was supposed to create a vessel suitable for Gusion, the teacher of secrets. A powerful demon that would tell him just how to get what he wanted.

As he reread the memorized passage to himself in his mind, he opened the book once more to glance at the instructions, it was something he did every time.

“You will need mortal blood,” he read it to himself and aloud but still had no idea why the book used the word mortal. The only reason he could think of was that this book existed in a time when immortals walked the earth in abundance.

“Sir, may we retire for the night?” a big man asked him in the crowd, covered in a cloak to match the faceless others.

He was ignored, without permission, no one dared go anywhere.

He did not know how long ago that must have been, but now he was sure all of the blood was mortal these days, besides his own at least.

He didn’t quite understand the forces that he was dealing with, but no one in the room did or could understand it any better either.

"Damn it. What does it take to call it? I would kill a million men to summon him, a billion,” he ranted in frustration to himself.

The subordinates in the room dared not say anything after this, and their whispering came to an immediate end as he slammed the book close.

He was about ready to call this session to an end for the night as he needed time to think about what his next move would be.

The last time this ritual failed, the one who complained was killed and his body was put there for all to see in the middle of the room with the sacrifice.

No one wanted to risk that happening to them, so they waited quietly in fear.

Someone dared to break the silence without a hint of fear in his voice from out of nowhere. The golden-eyed man looked up with fury and had his next sacrifice picked out, but it appeared that no one defied him in the room. By their body language alone he could tell they were just as confused by the disruption.

"A billion people, don't you think that's just a bit extreme, even for you?" the pale blue-eyed man in black asked, leaning up against the far wall across the room from the would-be ritualistic magician.

He had said the words as if he had a smile on his face and one could even describe the tone of his voice as inhuman in the primordial sense.

The room was dark, the stranger’s outline was much darker than the shadows it held within. That seemed impossible to everyone who dared to look upon it for the first time.

Instantly the mood in the room changed from failing to an intense kind of nervousness. No one dared breathe in the wrong way in fear this stranger would be attracted to them instead.

The men and women of the occult gathering took a step back, breaking the circle they might have made.

The stranger continued to say, "I dislike the needless killing of perfectly good soldiers. You've done these rituals about one hundred and eighty-eight times. That leaves you with what fifty or so good men left? What a shame.”

The stranger slowly pushed himself off the wall, his intense blue eyes reflecting what little light there was in the room for a brief second.

The golden-eyed man was at a loss for words as he stuttered and took a step back; not believing what was taking place.

"You…came? I didn't expect you…the text says that I have to,” The stranger snapped his fingers and cut the summoner off in mid-sentence.

“Rituals bore me and the rest of us to death, what I like is a man with a goal, a desire and, most importantly, a dream,” he said with a smile, and walked into the dim light, revealing his completely unimpressive form.

He was thin, weak and shorter than the one who had summoned him by six inches. The air around him seemed to be heavier, and the whole room was just beginning to feel oppressive, it was getting hard to breathe.

"And you have all three. What can I do for you today?" he asked, as he crossed his arms and kept that thin smile on his face.

Those pale blue eyes never wavered in their intensity. It was as if this being, whoever he was, had done this many times before. Despite his frail appearance, he had a terrifying sense of confidence about him. It was something that did not belong here in this world or perhaps no other.

            No one in the room dared speak, never more than any other point in their lives did they want to run from this feeling of terror. His presence screamed at their instincts that this was just wrong and repulsive.

Despite what he looked like to them, there was something infinitely worse just beneath that flesh they couldn’t see.

There was no question, not even a hesitation in the answer. The golden-eyed man fought the repulsion that he felt and gathered the courage to speak.

"Gusion, I want the power, the ability to destroy the world, to take it and make it into my image, I want to fix it," The golden-eyed man said, with too much enthusiasm.

It was a practiced speech he had in his mind for years, but it was one he had looked forward to ever since he gained this unique gift from his past encounter with the Cyranthis Stone.

His immortality twisted his mind and made him feel superior to everyone, yet he knew he knew his limitations very well, he hated them.

"Oh, so you want ultimate power to take over…blah, blah, blah. If I had a dollar for every time I heard that. Nevertheless, you want power, and I'll give you the power to do it,” the stranger said, as he snapped his fingers in a very casual way, seeming to hope for a bit more creativity than this and was disappointed.

"There, you now have the power and all the resources you need to wage war against the entire world. Oh, by the way, my name is Bob, not what did you call me, Gusion, it’s not that,” he said.

No one was going to dispute it. The onlookers seemed shocked that something so obviously inhuman had given itself such a simple name.

The warlord instantly felt his mind open up in ways never before possible. Ideas and strategy came to him. Things new, ancient and otherworldly, designs for armors and weapons that could potentially destroy everything that came up against him.

It was as if a dream had come to life, and now it seemed that not only this world could be his, but all worlds.

"Thank you---" he was cut off in midsentence by Bob.

"Oh, kid, don't thank me yet. I just gave you the power to do it. I never said you'd be able to accomplish it. That part you do on your own. When the right time comes, I'll collect on this deal,” he said to his summoner.

His laughter echoed throughout the room, but Bob had already vanished.

No one had seen him go, but the feeling in the ritual room had returned to its natural state. The alien thing from beyond left and took its living aura of horror with it.

The golden-eyed man looked around at the others in the room.

“Now, we have some work to do but first get rid of this sacrifice, put him with the others, we won’t need to do this anymore. It will be a nice little surprise for anyone who comes looking,” he said to his men, and turned around and walked out of the room in a hurry, with the Codex still under his arm.

“And someone get me in contact with Sgt. Strom and his men, I have a job for them,” he said, just before he left.

“Yes sir, it will be done,” another cloaked figure said as he and another moved towards the dead man. Just about anything was better than staying in here.

With any luck, they would never have to come back in here again after the grisly work of moving the body to where all the others were being held.

The storm still raged outside, and its winds were relentless, howling, only to be drowned out by the crash of the thunder that briefly interrupted the wicked sound. Was the storm hiding the dark actions here tonight or was it the result of something terrible being let into our world and tipping nature out of balance?

No one could say, and the truth was no one wanted to know. Now that the ritual had been completed, anyone who was there knew the world would never be the same.