Cast of Characters
Warlocks
Mark Glassner -- Mary Sullivan
Sex Slaves "The Sluts"
Alison -- Desiree Fitzsimmons -- Xiu -- Korina-- Violet -- Lillian -- Chastity (deceased) -- Karen (deceased) -- Jessica St. Pierre -- April
Servants
Samnag "Sam" (Holy Vizier) -- Candy (Sam's Girlfriend) -- Dr. Willow WolfTail -- 51 (Chief Bodyguard) -- Rachel -- Leah (Chauffeur) -- Jacob -- Monique -- Lize -- Lynda (Pilot) -- Joslyn (Pilot)
The Living Church
Daisy & Rose Cunningham (High Priestesses)
Demons
Lucifer -- Lilith -- Marduk -- Molech
The Cult of Lilith
Lana -- Chantelle -- Babylon -- Crystal -- Starlight -- Nurse Thamina -- Fiona -- Tir (monster) -- Lamia (Monster) -- Cora (monster) -- Ziki (monster)
Sisters of Mary Magdalene
Mother Superior MaryΔm -- Archangel Gabriel -- Dominion Ramiel (Angel) -- Doug Allard -- Tina Allard -- Azrael (Angel)
The Patriots
Agent Noel Heinrich, FBI (Former Slut) -- Wyatt Kirby
Other
Antsy (Mark's Sister) -- Alice -- Sandy (Mark's Mother) -- Sean (Mary's Father) -- Tiffany (Mary's Mother, Sister Theodora Mariam) -- Shannon (Mary's Older Sister) -- Missy (Mary's Younger Sister) -- George (Shannon's Fiance)-- Damien (Missy's Boyfriend) -- Avialle (Antsy's Girlfriend) -- Craig Erikson (Mayor of Seattle)
Chapter One
General Olmos's assassination of Governor Holt, and the subsequent massacre of the Governor of Texas's supporters, was the first of many atrocities committed by the Tyrants. The fact that the Tyrants had General Olmos hung does not exculpate them for the heinous act the General had committed in their names. For all we know, they ordered the massacre, and placed the blame solely on General Olmos to maintain their benevolent appearance to the masses. Either way, the outcome benefited the Tyrants: the Governors of New Hampshire, Florida, North Dakota, Maryland, and Alaska capitulated to the nascent Theocracy the next day, ending the last governmental resistance in the United States.
--excerpt from The History of the Tyrants' Theocracy, by Tina Allard
Thursday, November 7th, 2013 - Mark Glassner - Omaha, NE
Every Thursday, Mary and I traveled to a random children's hospital in America and spent the day healing all the children stricken with terminal diseases we could. It was the most rewarding thing in the world. All the credit goes to Mary for the idea.
I entered the next sick child's room and paused to study him. The little boy looked so pale as he lay on his tiny hospital bed, festooned with wires monitoring his vitals. He was young, maybe only four, and dying of a rare form of leukemia known as JMML. It was an acronym for a bunch of words I couldn't pronounce. A beautiful woman in her late thirties sat beside his bed, clutching his tiny hand. Her eyes lit up with joy when she saw me enter the room with my bodyguards.
My bodyguards were ever-present. A month since the Patriot's first assassination attempt in Washington D.C. forced Mary and me to have a constant guard. Those Warlock bastards were relentless and cunning, finding new spells and magics to unleash upon us.
"My Lord," the child's mother gasped, falling to her knees, worship filling her voice. "Thank you for your generosity!"
I bent down, cupping her chin and lifting her gaze to mine. Her lower lip quivered. Her face shone with hope and, even without make-up, her dusky features were beautiful. She was middle-eastern, a desert rose, and my cock stirred at the sight of her on her knees. You could always count on a grateful mother to relieve tension.
"What is his name?" I asked, rising and walking to her son's bed.
"Abbas," she answered. "After his father, he..." She teared up with grief.
"It's okay," I nodded. I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "A beautiful woman like you shouldn't be crying," I ordered her.
"Yes, my Lord," she said, her smile brightening her face, the last tear trickling down her cheek.
"What's your name?"
"Shabnab. But everyone calls me Shay." She wiped at her tears.
"Your son shall be cured."
With one hand, I held hers, and with the other, her son's. I concentrated on the boy being well, on his disease being eradicated, and commanded,
"Tsariy!"
The energy surged out of me. Scarlet light engulfed her son. The woman tensed, clenching my hand hard as more and more power drained out of me. But I had huge reserves to tap. I could draw on the life force of every person bound to me by the
Zimmah
spell.
And they numbered in the hundreds.
Not even a minute later, the light faded. Already, color had returned to her little boy's cheeks. He opened his eyes. For a moment, they flicked around, unfocused. But then he saw his mother. Childish delight crossed his lips.
"Maman!"
the boy exclaimed, sitting up, smiling, and bouncing on his bed.
Healing anyone, especially children, spreads rewarding warmth through me.
Shay hugged her son, speaking to him in a rapid, musical language--Arabic or Farsi, I guessed. She kissed him over and over. After a moment, the boy tried to wiggle away from her, embarrassed by her affection. She let him go with the reluctance of all mothers.
She turned to me, beaming, "Thank you, my Lord!"
I grabbed her hand and led her toward the bathroom. She didn't fight, but just stared at me in confusion.
"What, my Lord?"
"You wanted to thank me," I told her. "51 will watch your son."
She flushed and shivered, realizing what I meant. "Of course, my Lord."
"I will keep him company," 51 said. The Black woman headed to the bed, a big smile on her lips.