Arc 3 - Chapter 27: Night Purifiers

(Reverence 3, 59 / 4:22AM)

Yellow sand blew throughout the dunes.

The van's tires barely gripped the black asphalt, and the driver had a death grip on the wheel. Seeing dunes as tall as hills, the horizon laid no sun, only black. Like he was driving into the unknown, no stars gazed down on them.

‘Damn … talk about a different change of pace.’

Jack dug his fingers into the leather, as he felt like ripping it apart with his own nails. Scanning to his right, to his left, he saw nothing but black for miles … miles … and many more.

‘Haven’t seen a single town in over fifty miles. And we’re only halfway to Ridgemente … when are we gonna—’

Lights finally sparkled in the distance.

Squinting his eagle-like eyes, he noticed a town that hid itself from time. Glancing down at the gauge, he noticed the gasoline arrow pointing at the 1/4th mark. Running low, a simple refuel would be enough to suffice the van.

‘Definitely need to refuel.’

After half an hour, the van rolled through the town darkened in black. No one was out. Not a soul wandered the streets or the sidewalks. Not even an animal. Seeing signs, Jack could barely see them with the naked eyes. Lamplights lighting the paved asphalt, it didn’t take long before Jack noticed a gas station.

Rolling up to the pump, it was then when he finally turned off the engine. With car lights raining down on their sleeping faces, they all began to wake up. Groaning, murmuring, their eyes were curated in eye burgers that hung on their eyelashes.

Being the first person to speak, Luke yawned.

“Let’s just get what we can buy. Come on.”

Luke opened the passenger side door, and got himself out. Having his boots kiss the smooth cement, he closed the door, while Jack got himself out of the van too. As Jack went to the pump, Luke walked towards the back doors, with stumbling legs and gooey knees.

Sean, Miles, Pacifica, and Hope jumped out from the back, once Luke opened the doors. Following Luke to the gas station, only Benn, Christian, and Chris wallowed in the metal confines. With Luna still in deep sleep, she snored with an open mouth, as Jack could hear from the van.

‘I could hear Luna from out here … but again, the only dude who could tolerate her being is Luke.’

The more he looked around town, he noticed the many signs that he passed through. Without paying them any mind on his drive, he was now squinting with eagle eyes at the letters. Carved in red, silhouettes of beast-humans were marked with x-marks and crosshairs.

Gulping down dry saliva, Jack’s hand on the gas nozzle tightened. Scanning around the street, it was so quiet … not even the cicadas could chirp.

‘What the hell is this town … even I couldn’t find it on a map.’

Inside the van, Chris and Christian sat together, while facing Benn.

Christian folded his arms beneath his chest, and stared forward with a face full of stern. In and out, he breathed softly through dry nostrils, his throat as coarse as sandpaper.

“What is it? Got something to say?”

He clicked his tongue, as he furrowed his brow to the max. Both of his boots firm to the van floor, he had his back pressed on the wall.

“Back there. You didn’t harbor any malicious intent in that raid. Why is that?”

Benn didn’t put on a glare, nor did he put on a frown. Not even furrowed, he had his eyes focused on the ground, rather than what was in front of him. Without paying any mind to Christian’s ignorance, he continued to stare on the metallic ground that wrinkled his boots.

As he strained his toes.

“You think all shark-humans are evil?”

“But you did bad stuff. Your kind did bad stuff. So why—”

“You’re stupid.”

Putting pressure on his knees, his elbows sharpened as he put strain on it. Hunching his back in the process, he slowly raised his face upward, which finally gave Christian the chance to look. Seeing cheeks clouded in darkness, eyes wallowed in a sense of exhaustion…

A single droplet of sweat swept down.

“Everybody has the capacity to do evil things. You’d think beast-humans are full of hate?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then tell me why.”

He finally loosened his folded arms, and laid his hands on his thighs. Beaten by mere words, he sneered, and averted his eyes to the floor painted black.

“W-Whatever … guess I shouldn’t indulge…”

He heard the gas do a little click.

Pulling out the nozzle from the tank, he placed it where it was originally stored. With the air already blistering his face, the oven heat still extended into the night. Looking like they were in a low-elevation desert, rather than high, it gave no break for the ground to cool.

‘Stupid desert … and I thought the higher elevation one was bad…’

His ears perked.

Hearing something, it trickled his right ear, before he turned toward the East. Seeing rocks and pebbles roll through the asphalt, several men and women walked along the street. All of them wearing black robes, their hoodies were pointed upward, with blue lines marked on the edges.

‘Oh no … don’t tell me this town is a …’

And in the center of the pack, was one person that was different amongst the rest. His hands and feet tied up, their mouth was stuffed with … animal fur..

His toes scraping against the old pavement, his nails chipped from a small pothole below. Drool sulking from his lips, he wore nothing. No clothing, only his fur kept himself from hiding his junk. His back … his back was reddened with scars. Cuts. Dry blood crusted onto the fur, with white pigment littering his legs.

His hair was missing.

Looking like his skull stuck out, the top of his head was cleaved from a dagger. Scalped to the literal bone, fresh blood wetted his forehead and cheeks. Once the group finally settled down nicely, he dropped the beast-human like old baggage.

“Hey Jack, is the—”

Luke, and everyone else, stopped well in their tracks.

One of the robed men stepped forward, and his boots thumped the ground with strain. Within reach, he thrusted his hand, and grabbed the piece of animal fur that looked to be … it was his own hair.

“Help! Help!”

“Silence.”

Sending his boot to his stomach, all air in the man’s lungs escaped out. Saliva spazzing from his lower lip, the robed man thrust his right hand outward.

And grabbed his head, his fingers digging into the scalped region.

“No beast-humans after dark. This is a Purifier town son.”

With his other hand, he stuffed it into his pocket, and grazed his knuckles against the cotton. Pulling out a small metal pear, its reflected light made the beast-human shed out a tear. The beast-human arched his whole back, as he wiggled and wheezed with unholy eyes.

“Now which hole son. You have two choices.”

“N-N-No!”

“You knew the rules. You knew the town. I consider this natural selection at its finest.”

He felt his shoulder being tugged.

Turning around, he took note of a woman getting his attention. In her left hand, she had a bible, and pushed it toward the leader rather quickly. Like it was alien to him, the leader kept his stare on the book painted black.

Until he pushed the pear-shaped object back into his pocket.

“He had this?”

“Yes. I recently found it in the man’s jacket.”

“Then that changes things…”

He dropped the bible, and it plopped down to the sand below. And using his right foot, he stomped and squeezed, making sure that each page wrinkled like a dried raisin.

With his hand still inside his pocket, he took out something that was metallic again. This time, it was larger, more defined with a snout sticking out from …

“This isn’t a town where you sing kumbaya; and make change. You’d think a God can save its people? Promote growth?”

One of the robed men picked up the piece of scalped animal fur, and then thrusted it into the man’s mouth. Letting him gag on his own hair, he wiggled relentlessly as tears poured down his cheeks. Because the metallic object that the leader held … was then pointed at him.

“Then where is he now? You guys preach of love and family, but what’s the point of it all if you’re just useless?”

Having his finger on the side, the glint of metal finally outlined a simple handgun.

Two other robed men grappled the man’s arms, and held him down while the leader moved his finger. Having it rest on the trigger, he stood stall, as his face was barely colored in the dark of the night.

“Unlike from above, we choose who lives; and who dies. Exercising our right to purge the weak is our job, a civic duty for the Night Purifiers. We create our own fate, our own destiny … we are our own gods.”

He smelled something foul come from the poor man. Pee, maybe shit. Whatever it was, it wrinkled his nose and cheeks. Having the barrel point right at the man’s forehead, he took a good look upon his fur, and his fear.

All the while Luke and his group watched with silence.

“So go back to whatever hole you came from.”

—A gunshot roared the air.—

Smoke emitting from the barrel, it didn’t take long before he holstered his gun back. Dropping the fresh corpse, they clapped their hands, and littered the fur onto the sand.

And in that same sand, cold blood ventured deep. Too deep.

Walking along the street, they patrolled the sidewalk and asphalt like a group of hawks. Ignoring the Dark Angels, they were regular-humans, people worthy of no hassle or assault. Silence taking hold of the town, as well as the desert, everyone didn’t speak or gulp.

—What the hell is this place…

That single thought tormented Luke, so much so that he balled his hands.

The snacks, the ones that they wanted to carry into the van, were littered near their boots. Cans of vampires flooding the asphalt, chips and crackers crumbled in the cracks, they were all too stunned. Too stunned to even pick up the mess they created.

Until they noticed another robed member.

Walking through the desolate dark, his face was hidden, but everyone else saw him. Too shadowy for the eye to behold, he stopped at the bible sunken in sand.

—What is he…

Both of his hands to his sides, his right hand fingers were pointed to the bible. Like something out of a fantasy …

The sand molded, and rose up to his palm. Blanketing the bible upon its grains, he grabbed it, which left the living sand to quickly fall. Doing it all with eyes peering at him, he glanced to his right, and watched them gawk.

‘I’ll alloweth them to walk. Dougie hath said me to it.’

Carrying on with his bible, he tucked it into the deepest pocket of his robe. Once he was swallowed by darkness … They were alone.

Inside the van, from out the window, Christian and Chris both watched the event unfold. Wrinkling his cheeks, Christian felt one of his hands ball, while his other twitched.

‘This isn’t discrimination… this is straight up evil…’

Christian glanced in back of him, and noticed Benn’s eyes filled with emptiness. Looking like he wasn’t ready for talk, or even ready to speak, Christian relaxed his right hand.

Once the screen faded to black.

‘Just how long has this shit been going for…?’