Location: Monthaven
Timeline: Sixth Age, 46th Year, Spring
Here’s another bit of the rub that gets my goat – to think that Alyssa had figured out a way to use my Baals behind my back for her own designs? Oh I can’t wait until I tell you how I got my revenge – but alas that’s a tale for the future. For now I must continue telling you about Emcorae’s pitiful struggles while I offer a fake smile to my current boss and pretend to record history.
Oh, the sheer, unadulterated arrogance of a boy. It’s a sweet, delicious thing, like an overripe fruit just waiting to burst. Emcorae was about to “defeat” his friends in a game of tag-ball. He looked back to celebrate his supposed victory, but what he saw wasn’t a group of panting, defeated boys. Oh, no. It was something far more satisfying.
To his horror, the sun had been blotted out. The skies above him roiled in a blackness that was both unnatural and perfectly timed. “What? No! No! NO!” he shrieked, a sound that was pure, unfiltered panic. His friends, bless their oblivious little hearts, were confused. They assumed it was a sudden storm. But not my Emcorae. He knew. He’d seen this scene before, in the dreams I had so thoughtfully provided him.
He didn’t need to look up to understand the truth of that oppressive darkness. He knew it was no storm cloud; it was the moving shadow of a terrible demon, its massive wings flapping a giant circle of night down upon him. He dropped the rag-ball, a moment of confusion fleeting across his face. Is this a dream? Another one of my nightmares? He pinched himself. “Ouch! That hurts! But that means…”
Yes, my boy, it means this time, you are awake. This time, the fear is real.
As dust was violently kicked up around him from the continued beating of the creature’s wings, Emcorae finally looked upwards… To see a genuine, living, breathing gargoyle hovering menacingly overhead!
[My little plaything, a Baal named Agaryz, was putting on a magnificent show – only I had no idea another god was using my pet for their designs!]
The boy blanched, his face turning the color of a freshly laundered sheet. He was, for a moment, frozen with fear. “This can’t be happening! Yahway, save me!” he whimpered.
How quaint. He called on his pathetic little godling, the one I created for his kind. As if Yahway could possibly save him from a creature of my making. It’s a laugh, truly.
For its part, the flying demon looked upon its prey, its eyes burning with the fires of a hell I had no small part in crafting. It sneered at the pitiful challenge, a perfect moment of theatrical flair. Agares expanded its chest in a preening display, hovering for a moment more, before diving down… straight at Emcorae!
It flashed its talons, wide to catch its prize, ready to gash the boy as it scooped him off the ground. But events didn’t go quite as my little gargoyle expected. The boy hurled himself from the demon’s path at the last second. It wasn’t bravery, of course. It was instinct. It was the primal, unthinking terror that overtakes a mind that can no longer process the incomprehensible. His mind was paralyzed, so his body simply acted.
<WHOOSH!> The demon rushed by, swiping at the empty air, the space where Emcorae had been just a moment before. In a flash, the menace was back in the sky, wings beating a thunderous pressure down, creating a beautiful dust storm from Farmer Pryde’s fields.
As the gargoyle plotted its next move, Emcorae ared a quick glance around. To his surprise, he saw that his friends were still nearby, but now I could truly see the full extent of my own power. They hadn’t run because they couldn’t. They were frozen in place by the sheer, overwhelming <Fear> that cascaded off the creature’s evil aura. They stood there, looking up at the dread menace with terror in their eyes.
“Mannah be with them,” Emcorae whispered. Another pathetic prayer – a call upon a higher power, one that is truly helpless to intervene. Agares could have torn them all to shreds.
The gargoyle’s sadistic gaze fell upon them for a moment, seething at their pitiful attempt to escape, but internal forces stopped it. For Agares was meant for Emcorae alone. As a result beast turned back to its real prey, only to be surprised once more. His little morsel was gone!
Agares hovered in the air, scanning the fields. The boy was racing back towards the town through the woods. The gargoyle was unimpressed. A mortal boy, however fast, was no match for a demon. The menace’s wings gashed the air as it strove to catch up to its prize.
Now that he was back to running, Emcorae’s instincts took over again. Every fiber of his being considered this to be the ultimate game of chase, and thus rather than think about what he was doing, the boy simply ran… FOR HIS VERY LIFE!
He dodged the trees that lined the farmland, and his choice to run through the woods was indeed fortuitous. The forest negated the gargoyle’s best asset—its ability to fly. Unable to use its massive wings, the creature had to pursue the boy on foot, a great disadvantage. Emcorae, being far more fleet of foot than the gargoyle, quickly distanced himself from the beast. But the demon never lost sight of the boy, and it never stopped chasing him.
“Oh were this just one of my dreams!” Emcorae lamented as he paused for breath beneath a maple tree. He could barely see the green-scaled creature far behind him through the foliage, but the raging gurgles of the gargoyle were louder than ever. Where am I supposed to go? he wondered as he raced again through the forest. Now that this beast is here in the flesh, I can feel in my bones that it’s not gonna stop… till it catches me!
The fear of this realization made the boy run that much faster. Self-preservation took hold, forcing his muscles to exert even more energy. He was propelled even further ahead of his pursuer and soon the gargoyle fell so far behind that the creature briefly lost Emcorae’s trail.
Another lucky break for the mortal, another turn in the plot.
At last, Emcorae came to a point in the forest where he had to make a decision. Should I run out of town and take my chances alone or double back towards the people for help? After only a moment, the boy puffed out his small chest, proclaiming, “I’ll fight this bastard on my own and show it what it means to fight an Azop!”
Oh, the heroic posturing. It makes me want to applaud. But of course, his courage faltered when the reality of his prospects confronted him. An undersized human boy, made of soft flesh and lacking any weapons, was a poor match for an armor-scaled gargoyle and its sharp talons. He was smart enough to realize that. So he changed his tune. “Even if the beast…gets me…I can still…save my family!”
So he was willing to be a martyr – how droll.
Yet, just as he was about to take that fateful step, a gentle whisper on the wind cautioned, <“Emcorae, do not go that way…”>
I’m sure to the boys the voice sounded soft and sweet, caring but confident, intelligent and wise. Surely he thought it was a voice of sweet dreams, but I knew the truth – it was complete and utter lie.
Emcorae hesitated against the gentle command, turning around to locate the speaker, but all he saw was trees. “Did I imagine that?”
<GGGRGLGE!> The demon suddenly sounded closer than ever. Even though he still couldn’t see the gargoyle, Emcorae knew it was close.
Then he remembered the words of his grandmother, Paullina. “Mannah is your Savior, Em. He is the Son of God. No matter what troubles you, trust in Mannah and he will redeem you!”
“The church!” Emcorae blurted out. “I’ve got to get back to the church! Surely this evil beast can’t get me in God’s holy house!”
Racing away, the boy again separated himself from his pursuer, speeding towards Monthaven’s church located in the center of town. He covered the three-mile distance in record time. His lungs were screaming with pain by the time he reached the steps of the chapel. He fell on the stairs and looked back—and the demon was nowhere to be seen.
Nor was anyone else.
Was this all just a dream? he wondered. But fear got the better of him, and just to be safe, he aimed to enter the sanctuary of the church. That’s when he realized the doors were closed. What’s going on here? Kastelli always has those doors open, hoping people will visit and drop him off a treat. Yet, that small curiosity was quickly replaced by a cold, numbing horror. When Emcorae pulled on the doors, he realized they were locked tight… against him!
The farce continued. The glorious, tragic farce.
Emcorae also realized something else, a nagging inkling he’d had during his run through town. It was mid-day, yet not a single soul was outside. He stood on the church steps, looking out at the houses. Just like the chapel, all doors were shut tight, and even the window shutters were closed.
Where is everybody? he pondered, a feeling of dread rising inside him. I’m running out of time, the gargoyle will be here any moment!
He looked up toward the higher windows of the church, where Pastor Kastelli lived. To his great surprise, he spied the rotund priest peeking out through the opening.
“Pastor Kastelli! Pastor Kastelli!” Emcorae shouted with joy, feeling certain the priest would save him. “The door’s locked, Father. Please come down and let me in, I need your help!”
Yet silence was the boy’s only answer.
And now, my friends, the game begins in earnest. The boy is trapped. The priest is a coward. The demon is closing in. It’s beautiful. It’s brutal.
The Apocrypha of Azazel 