Necessary Evil and the Greater Good - A novel

Necessary Evil and the Greater Good - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Braggadocio

Stephanie followed her grandmother down the dark, wooded path. The old woman turned occasionally to make sure she was following, but as usual said absolutely nothing. It was dark and the moon was blotted out more often than not by clouds, but there was a soft ambient light emanating from her grandmother that kept Stephanie from breaking her neck on the various roots, rocks, and branches that reached out from the path to trip her up. The gentle breeze was crisp but not cold, and blew her long black hair softly behind her. The old woman looked back again, a slight smile on her face, and beckoned more emphatically.

Finally, and for the first time ever, they reached the end of the path, or at least this part of the path. It opened to a circular clearing with a small family graveyard at the center of it. It was surrounded by black gothic wrought iron fencing with heavy chains and intricate tassels connecting ornate posts capped with lifelike iron ravens. Directly in the middle of the cemetery was a headstone with Stephanie's name on it. The birth date matched what she had always known to be her birthday, but the death date was marred and eroded to the point that she couldn't discern anything more than the fact that the month had an R in it.

Her grandmother smiled as she pointed at the headstone, motioning her to come forward, but the smile slowly turned into concern and then terror as she gazed at something behind Stephanie. Grams opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out, and then she disappeared, scrambling and clawing at the headstone as she vanished, leaving Stephanie by herself in the clearing. The feeling creeping up the back of Stephanie's neck quickly corrected her: she was not alone after all.

Slowly, Stephanie turned around and glimpsed a large, dark figure against the backdrop of the woods. Its shape was hard to discern because she couldn't seem to focus on it for more than a split second. Whatever it was shifted and moved faster than her eyes could adjust. Stephanie felt cold and tingly, and a fear she had never felt before grew in her chest. She was shaking, but her body wouldn't do what she told it. The shifting form was sliding, maybe even floating, toward her, and she could make out the hint of feathers and wings. The creature, which she could now tell was as black as the deepest trenches of the sea, spread a series of three pairs of large, rapidly fluttering wings to reveal a pale, white face with an unusually elongated jaw and neck.

Stephanie still couldn't move, even as she felt its cold, damp breath on her neck. The creature's mouth opened wide, so wide that it didn't seem to ever stop opening, and Stephanie knew that it meant to drain her like a vampire. Just before it struck, Stephanie heard what sounded like a cross between the noise of an arc of electricity and that of paper ripping, and she felt as if she were momentarily being pulled inside out through her own belly button.

A swirling and shimmering green gash in what Stephanie could only think of as Space and Time appeared, and Stephanie stumbled out of the rip. A different Stephanie. A Stephanie not herself. The other Stephanie was wearing what looked like an old World War II gas mask and holding a futuristic rifle. "Shit, more Nephilim," said Other Stephanie as she shot the black-winged fluttery vampire-bird-thing.

As Other Stephanie pulled the trigger and a big green light sprang forth from the barrel, Stephanie bolted upright in her bed. She was back in her bedroom. She was covered in sweat and was breathing heavily. She looked around, and a slow calm began to fill that cold fear that she had felt only moments before. After several seconds, she was satisfied that the nightmare was truly gone and her world had returned to normal

She often had dreams in which her grandmother lead her down paths of enlightenment, literal and figurative. She'd taken Grams' death rather hard, and these continued visits were something of a consolation. She wasn't sure if the connection was directly between her and Grams, or if it was because Stephanie was living in Grams' house, which she'd inherited. The bedroom was almost exactly the way Grams had left it when she died. This was still Grams' house, not Stephanie's.