Cast of Characters
Warlocks
Mark Glassner -- Mary Sullivan
Sex Slaves "The Sluts"
Alison -- Desiree Fitzsimmons -- Xiu -- Korina -- Fiona -- Violet -- Lillian -- Chastity (deceased) -- Nurse Thamina -- Karen (Sister Louise Afra) -- Jessica St. Pierre, Reporter -- Agent Noel Heinrich, FBI -- Dr. Willow WolfTail -- April -- Sam
Demons
Lucifer -- Lilith -- Marduk
The Cult of Lilith
Lana -- Chantelle -- Babylon -- Crystal -- Starlight
Sisters of Mary Magdalene
Mother Superior MaryΔm -- Sister Theodora Mariam (Tiffany Sullivan) -- Archangel Gabriel -- Dominion Ramiel (Angel) -- Sister Agnes Chibuzo -- Sister Isabella Cecillia -- Doug Allard -- Tina Allard
Other
Brandon Fitzsimmons -- Antsy (Mark's Sister) -- Alice -- Sandy (Mark's Mother) -- Sean (Mary's Father) -- Shannon (Mary's Older Sister) -- Missy (Mary's Younger Sister) -- George (Shannon's Fiance)-- Damien (Missy's Boyfriend) -- Felicity (Sean's Slut) -- Joy (Sandy Slut) -- Avialle (Antsy's Slut) -- Rachel -- Leah -- Jacob
Chapter One
None could look away from their screens as they watched the Miracle unfold.
--First Book of Vivian 14:10
Wednesday, June 26th, 2013 - Doug Allard - Jebel al-Lawz, Saudi Arabia
The desert sky was clear and beautiful. Stars wheeled over the top of the mountain. The true Mount Sinai, called Jebel al-Lawz by the local Saudis. A barrier surrounded the mountain, my wife, and me from the world. From the coming darkness. It would hide us, separating our reality from any who were not chosen to enter. We were the guardians of the original copy of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, an ancient book that contained the hope of mankind. The other copies lacked that hope. If the darkness prevailed, it would rescue mankind.
But that wouldn't be for forty years.
It was a long time to wait in the wilderness. But we were provided for. When we woke up at dawn, we found manna around us; the pale, delicious bread, which tasted of honey and milk, was hearty and sustaining. We had eaten it the two full days we were here, and I had never felt healthier. And the angels provided for us not only with food, but other comforts. We had a generator that didn't seem to need any fuel, a satellite dish aimed to the sky, a TV, and a tent with a proper bed and furniture.
I walked into the tent. It was a large space, with a comfortable mattress and clean sheets for us to sleep on. The TV was on, showing the local station back home. It looked like Q13 Fox playing one of the daytime soaps my wife always loved.
She sat at the small desk, half watching TV, half typing at my laptop she brought with her. She looked so beautiful. We both had received the Gift, making me a Monk and her a Nun. It aged us back to eighteen and gave us fit, perfect bodies.
And she was fit. I admired the naked profile of her firm breast.
We had made love many times since arriving, exploring each other's new bodies, loving each other in our solitude. There wasn't too much else to do, though Tina was working on accumulating a collection of ebooks, downloading every free one she could off the major ebook stores and sending them to our smart phones.
We could download books on our smart phones but not make calls. No cell coverage. Which was weird since we had internet.
"Hey, honey," I said, brushing back her brown hair to kiss her shoulder. "What're you working on?"
"Your notes. Everything we know about Mark. We should record it all. Who he and his women are. When this is all over, people will need to know the truth about him."
"Planning on writing a book?" I joked.
"Maybe."
I kissed her neck again. "It's late."
"Not back in the States."
"Well, it's later here and," I kissed her shoulder, my hand sliding down her bare arms, "you are so beautiful."
She smiled and groaned, arching her neck, inviting me. "You're like a horny teenager, Doug."
"Well, I look like one. And so do you. Let's embrace it." My hands swept around to squeeze her naked tits. They were so round and firm and perky. No sag. Just perfect. I squeezed.
"We interrupt your programming to bring you a breaking news," came from the TV. I glanced at the screen to see a well-dressed, young man sitting at an anchor desk. "Gunshots have erupted in the quite suburb of South Hill, WA. We go now live to Debra Horne-Dannell on the scene."
"South Hill," said my wife, perking up.
"Mark?" I asked, staring at the TV, my hardon forgotten.
The shot changed and I blinked. The female reporter stood before her camera, ready to report while in the background I spotted Mark Glassner's house. There was movement, one of his scantily clad bodyguards rushing by, her tits almost falling out.
Debra reported, "While collecting footage for an upcoming story on the philanthropist Mark Glassner"--my wife growled in disgust--"a woman, who appeared to know Mark and his fiancee Mary, arrived. While speaking to Mark and Mary, this woman drew a gun and shot him. Even now, Mark's lovers and bodyguards are trying to save him as 911 races to the scene."
"Wow," I blinked. The camera panned to show Mark lying on his back, his chest covered in blood, Mary kneeling over him, holding his wounds. Chasity, Mark's blonde sex slave and chief of his bodyguard, stood behind Mary speaking into a Nextel. Thamina, Mark's slut who was also a nurse, arrived and began working on Mark.
"Do you know the motivation of the shooter?" the anchor asked.
"We don't know at this time, but Mark's security shot her moments after she shot him. It's quite a mess here. His devoted lovers watch stunned while Mary..." Debra trailed off. She glanced up the residential and asked, "Is that gunfire?"
The cameraman panned down the street in time to catch three SWAT vans rounding the bend. Mark's bodyguards flooded out of the houses along the street. There were more bodyguards now than when I spied on Mark a week back. They drew weapons, firing at the vans. The reporter screamed in fear, diving for cover while her cameraman knelt to capture the action.
My wife squeezed my hand as the back of the first SWAT van burst open and several heavily armed police officers stepped out with MP5s, opening fire on Mark's bodyguard. Shooting Mark was, apparently, the opening volley to a coordinated attack.
"We might not have to hide here," I said.
"There, that's a nun," gasped my wife. "Blonde hair. I saw it in your notes. That must be the nun who went after Mark using his sister Antsy."
"Sister Theodore Mariam." One of the last things I had recorded. My wife had manage to salvage my notes backed up in the cloud through Dropbox. I thought I deleted the files--Mark's orders--but the storage service undeleted them for my wife. She lied and said someone hacked my computer and maliciously deleted them.
Clever of her.
"They're going to beat him," my wife said, a huge smile on her face.