Samuel

Chapter 25

Gazing out into the city, his empire, Jonathan marveled at his throne, at his kingdom. The sky lovingly demonstrated the grandeur present during dusk. New York City, containing a wealth of energy for the taking, thousands of souls, easily replaceable, braided the land. The Hudson River shimmered in the dying light; glinting on as the looming darkness approached. Moving about in their lives, the denizens remained unaware of the shade dwelling among them as Jonathan took life high in his lofty keep.

Sipping on a bottle of 1945 Chateau Mouton Rothschild, drinking in deep, letting the fluid saturate his taste buds, Jonathan felt enraptured. This wine, with an astonishingly deep aroma with a distinctive, high-toned mint piquancy imprinted an olfactory impression dulled the pain lingering deep within his own body.

"Momentarily, I'll have my prize and this pain will abate." Jonathan thought to himself in an attempt to hold onto hope.

Savoring every drop as new bioenergy came to pour itself within his being. Every morsel of bioenergy worked to rejuvenate him as the pain diminished to a soft hum. Feeding while awaiting his prize, Jonathan rarely left his domain to ingest the bio-essence of individuals. Simply utilizing his superior mental attributes to incapacitate his victims and absorb their light from vast distances, he feasted. Honing onto the ambient energy emitted from their bodies, he sought them.

The energy leaked from their forms through temperature fluctuations or exhalation. Allowing some, to shine brighter in Jonathan's mind's eye, while other dulled and inevitably wisped to nothingness, lambs sacrificed to the void. In a city of this size, deaths happened too frequently for professionals to take a second glance. Carefully, he selected his victims. Wearily, choosing not to remove too many souls at a given time. Fifty, this evening, would suffice. Spread throughout the city. Throughout different boroughs.

Thinking of his past, Jonathan lingered for many moments, distracted as his thoughts carried him down his own stream of time. Weaving through the torrents of time, Jonathan came full circle as he thought of Alm and his mission. Now late returning with Samuel, Jonathan tensed involuntarily. Many weeks now passed from the time he contacted him.

Grabbing his cellphone, he dialed Chandral in a huff, "Where are they?" Jonathan asked Chandral after two rings while gripping his wine glass tightly.

Small cracks radiated through the glass in deep grooves as Jonathan's irritation gave way.

"N-no idea, sir." Chandral responded sheepishly "He is not responding to my calls or texts."

"What is his last known location? Don't I pay enough to have your phones tracked?"

Standing in a motel room, Chandral glanced around at the cleanly accommodation and a small round table containing a modest phone. "Yes sir, but it looks like he left the phone. I am at a loss of where he is. I keep trying to sense his energy, but nothing around here is pulsating a signal."

Gritting his teeth, Jonathan bit back rage toward the man on the other end of his phone. Composing himself, he slowly and sternly stated, "Of course he isn't sending out his beacon, he isn't in trouble. I need you to work harder to discover his location. His target is very precious to me. I would hate to replace you with Jasmine when you have been such a help in the past. Do you understand, Chandral?"

"Yes, sir!" Chandral responded with a frog in his throat.

Ending the call, Jonathan frustratingly threw his phone on a nearby chair. Assuming the task's difficulty potentially surpassed Alm's skill, Jonathan considered his contingencies as the door buzzer rang. Startling the man, the glass in his hand tremored slightly as the wine sloshed side to side. A servant rushed to the buzzer as it rang, once more.