Devil's Advocate (The X-Files: Origins #2)(90)
Standing at the edge of the shadows, Sunlight looked from one to the other and then back at Dana. “And now, my girl, do you understand?”
Dana said nothing.
“Are you ready, Dana, to help me wash this world clean of sin and weakness and impurity?”
Her lips moved, and Dana heard herself echo the words. “Wash it clean? How?”
“With blood, of course,” said Sunlight, taking a few small steps forward. “That is always the way. Blood is the life. No, let me be more precise: blood is the pathway to life. We are all born in blood, are we not? Born in blood and pain, screaming our way into this world. This is no different. The Red Age is upon us, and we sacred few will usher it in. We will be the midwives for the birth of a better world to come.”
“You’re—you’re—”
“The word you’re fumbling for is ‘prophet,’” he said. “And every prophet must be mad by the standards of the ordinary world, for they see a different world that is beyond the vision of the sheep. For thousands of years, people like us—yes, us—have been hunted and stoned and crucified and burned because we see a larger world than the rest of the human herd can ever see. And in each age of the world, when a prophet comes to preach of a better world to come, he is killed. His own blood is spilled as a sacrifice to stupidity and fear and closed-mindedness. The Christ of your faith was beaten and whipped and nailed to a tree for speaking of a better world to come. There have been many others. That ends here, with me, with us, tonight.”
“No,” said Dana, but she was almost hypnotized by his words. Sunlight spoke gently, quietly, without hysteria or force. He spoke reasonably, as if they both shared this place and this destiny. Dana felt herself hanging on his words.
“Don’t listen to him, Dana,” warned Corinda, but her voice sounded like it was a million miles away. Faint and meaningless.
“I told you about people with qualities, Dana,” continued Sunlight, stepping closer still. “I had my flock, my apostles. You’ve seen them here, coming and going from my psychic enrichment sessions. They were among the strongest of those like you. Like us. Each had special gifts. Each was in the process of becoming something else, of breaking free of the shell of was and emerging into the state of will be. Do you understand?”
Dana felt herself nod.
“I selected each and guided them, cultivated them like the rare flowers they were. And when they were strong enough, I introduced them to the secrets of the Red Age. But”—and here Sunlight looked genuinely sad—“not everyone is suited to higher concepts. Not everyone has the courage, the depth of compassion, or the vision to do what is necessary to save the world from itself.”
“And you killed them?”
“Of course I did. I released them from their weakness and sent them flying into the ether toward a next and hopefully better incarnation, where more of their nephilim heritage will shine forth. Their deaths fueled the doorway that will open us to the Red Age.”
“Oh my God…,” whimpered Corinda. The didgeridoo dropped from her hand and clattered to the floor. No one even noticed.
“The Eclipse was wasted on them,” said Sunlight. “It’s so rare, so difficult to obtain, to refine. The chemistry is boggling, but the effects are sublime. For the ordinary ones, the sheep, it’s a cheap high that lasts a few hours and goes away without side effects. No addiction, no tissue deterioration. Ah, but for those with qualities, there is a completely different chemical reaction. It sinks deep and lives in the blood. It sings in the blood. And it turns on all the lights until the mind blazes like the rays of the sun shining out from the occluding moon. A light that cannot be hidden. How lovely, how beautiful.”
He took another step and now stood a few feet from Dana.
“You’ve felt it, haven’t you, my girl? Your mind had been closed and now it’s open. Gloriously, wonderfully open. Burn one stick a day, every day, and soon your qualities will blossom at an exponential rate. Dana, you could become as powerful as me. You could share the power with me. You could help me save the world, transform it, rule it.”
“Yes,” she murmured, and now it was she who took a step toward him. The small crucifix that hung beneath her blouse seemed to suddenly grow hot against her skin.
Sunlight smiled at her, and there was so much love in his eyes. Like a father’s love was supposed to be. Like any love should be. Completely accepting, completely open. Allowing her to be who she was. Encouraging her to become whatever she wanted to be.
“You are my angel,” he said as he brushed a strand of red hair from her cheek. “And together we will give birth to the age of angels and giants. Together we will bathe this world in blood.”
“Yes,” said Dana. “Blood.”
And then she hit him with the fist-sized chunk of quartz as hard as she could.
The chunk of crystal smashed into his cheek, ripping the skin, cracking the bone, sending Sunlight reeling, the smile disintegrating from his screaming mouth.
Dana chased him, swinging the stone with savage force as one long, inarticulate scream tore itself from deep in her chest. Sunlight staggered and went down to one knee, throwing an arm up to fend off her attack. She struck his arm, battering it aside, and hit him again and again, striking shoulder, head, chin, chest. He twisted around and stabbed at her, and Dana felt a line, hot as lava, open up across her ribs. She screamed even louder and tried to smash at the knife hand.