Crazy Seduction(erotica)

280



Henry was done. Mab was dead. He hadn’t been able to stop her from killing off Humanity. That weighed tremendously on his soul, but he’d saved the rest. He stumbled back, and he watched the enormous stone slabs fall from the ceiling above. The cascade had begun from the center of the building but was rapidly getting closer as he staggered back.

Maybe… maybe being buried under the stones of a magic castle was the proper conclusion for the man who’d failed to save Humanity.

The impact of the stone which swung down from above, struck his horns and pitched him out the open window behind him. Dazed, he felt the sharp pain of hitting the roof’s edge, then the gentle caress of the wind as he fell. His consciousness mercifully slipped away, well before he reached his final destination of the street below.

Epilogue

The horrors of the Skyfall Event would never be forgotten by the survivors.

What surprised most in the days that followed was how little panic and chaos resulted from it. Not that there weren’t some localized outbursts of fear and violence. But even these were short-lived, and calm returned quickly as if the people had no stomach for it after so much loss.

This reserved behavior made it possible for life to move forward and a semblance of normality to return to the lives of those left behind.

But not everything remained as it was before.

When an estimated three billion human beings suddenly and simultaneously disappear, leaving behind their clothes, watches, and jewelry, answers are needed.

The evangelicals immediately exclaimed it was the Rapture, the worthy being taken to heaven, while those that remained were unworthy.

On the opposite side of the crazy coin were the UFO enthusiasts/Alien abduction conspiracy theorists who claimed the missing were now enslaved on far off planets.

The rationalists were left not knowing what to believe, and that somehow seemed worse.

Regardless of what was believed, three billion people were gone, and that number was a rough estimate as a new census would be required for an accurate count.

To add a spritz of lemon juice to that wound, some people were no longer… people. Initially, the number was small, but as the days passed, people succumbed in increasing numbers to a strange ailment. They would spontaneously lose consciousness and transform before the eyes of onlookers. These transformed people’s new shape and size were often shocking and could have led to panic amongst the populace but somehow didn’t. Sociology pundits theorized it was potentially because people knew they could be next, and behaving positively instead gave people comfort and hope.

Generally, treatment for the recently transformed was surprisingly considerate and gentle. They were taken to the nearest hospital to check their health. There, they would be met by a government-appointed counselor who often matched their new shape. These trained officials eased new beings through the change. In very rare cases, the transformed succumb to a fatal ailment at the hospital, but officials took care of these red-eyed souls.

With a global presence and representation in every country, it was the most ambitious and well managed public health program ever orchestrated.

The world’s governments were demanding answers on what exactly happened, but they hadn’t made much progress on it in the months that followed. The investigation focused on the odd and seemingly disconnected events that transpired in the months, weeks, days, and hours leading to the Skyfall. Every phenomenon outside the norm was recorded and cross-referenced to find the patterns.

Disgraced US Air Force officer, Major Thomas, was enjoying another moment of celebrity while remaining in custody in London, England, as once again, he awaited extradition to the US. Somehow, a statement from him was leaked to the press. In it, he claimed to have been freed from his Canadian holding cell for the specific mission of destroying the small Irish island to flush out the mastermind of a plan to kill humanity.

Two facts lent his story some strange credibility. A collapsed Irish castle’s remains rested upon the roof of a Manhattan office tower and on the street below. Its foundation stones bore scorch marks from a rocket attack. Officials were remaining silent about this.

Then came the Tennison Clip.

While the clip was definitely from the cell of US Army Sergeant Michelle Tennison, she wasn’t the source of the leak. That was discovered to be a nosy junior tech in the Army’s Intelligence Division, who should never have even seen the video but caught wind of the clip being circulated at the highest levels. He managed to obtain a copy from a secure mail server before it was delivered. When he saw the time-stamp incorporated into the file and heard the red-haired woman’s words, he got a little excited and made a copy for himself. While he didn’t understand the significance of the actions taking place in the video, the dialog and timing lined up exactly to the moment people disappeared, and the big brass were all over this video. He realized he was looking at something equal to or exceeding the significance of the Zapruder film.

He posted it anonymously to his favorite clip aggregator website. Within twenty-four hours, the video was on the front page of every significant social media site, while the junior tech was sitting in a cell in a military prison as his apartment and life were being turned inside out.

Most contentious were the last five seconds of the video, which showed a tear in space appearing next to a woman whose face did not appear in the video. The camera tumbled through the rift in space into tall red grasses, and the last frame shows the morning sunlight touching the tips of red mountains in the far distance.

Never has a brief clip of video been more analyzed, scrutinized, and dissected frame by frame in high definition, aside from the Zapruder footage. Experts from every nation demanded access to the source file.

They were also calling for the identity of this being named Henry.

But no one came forward.

-=-

Roy adjusted the collar of his dress shirt one more time, and Mary gently slapped his elbow.

“Stop that,” she said quietly as her eyes panned over the grim expressions on the faces of the politicians sitting up on the raised dais. She’d been before a police review board before, but she’d never faced a special congressional investigatory committee in the Capitol building in Washington, D. C.

The floor space between the congress representatives and them was filled with cameras from every media outlet and major network. Mary felt a little odd being under the microscope, so to speak.

She looked to Roy’s other side and smiled at Mahati, who looked calm and prepared like she attended these every day. She had her glamor back though she’d told no one how she managed to do it aside from saying Nāga are magic.

“I have more important things to do today than this!” Roy grumbled. Mary snorted as she knew he was eager to get back to his new duties as Interim Minister of Security for the Hidden Races Council. Chancellor Mugawee announced to Roy that the Assembly authorized him to offer the position to Roy upon hearing of Lise-Anne’s demise and how painlessly how Roy had handled the redistribution of the Louisiana territories in just ten days.

When the previous Minister of Security woke in VRL’s destroyed boardroom, she’d attempted to burn her way free from the cactus thorn trap but perished in flames instead. She’d destroyed the room’s fire detectors during her initial attack, so they failed to extinguish the fire until it began to spread, tripping alarms in the outer hall.

One of Roy’s first acts was reinstating Michelle Beaumont to her former position with all penalties reversed with the incident expunged from her work history. He’d need Michelle’s vast knowledge of their archives for the work he intended to do.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

He also canceled all outstanding hit contracts. Lorelei could breathe easier once she heard that news.

News of Roger Jensen’s demise at the hands of Sandy and Kesini was received with shock and concern, and they received many hugs from the group for the ordeal they went through. Roy contacted the Chancellor to assure him that the threat had been dealt with. They decided to let the mystery die with the three billion other souls.

Sigrid was spearheading the Global Transformation Support Program through the Hidden Races Council, and it’d rolled out with very few hiccups. Very few people refused aid and support given in a time of crisis from people who spoke with authority and compassion and asked for nothing in return. The program was easing the transition of so many new members to each race. While the Council remained invisible to the general populace, select individuals interfaced with them through Sigrid, which was working well.

Camila was back to running VRL, with Marisa filling in as Interim CIO from home as she took care of her baby girl.

A gavel banged on the podium, drawing Mary’s attention to the committee chairman as he called the meeting to order. In the center seat, Congressman Marvin Cressman was a gaunt older man with a shock of white hair and wore a dark blue suit, a crisp white shirt, and blood-red tie. He introduced himself as chair and had each of the congressional representatives introduce themselves. Then he began.


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