The Siege Against

Tolkeen

Chapter 12

The man stood in front of the Church of the Third Eye at 1 in the morning. The building was a small, squat structure made of crumbling brick, which boasted a statue of a three eyed man in a robe, proudly staring off into the distance with cold, dead eyes. A bronze plaque above the door read in several languages, "A sanctuary of magical learning and insight," but the man didn't know that. He couldn't read, and didn't want to.

he muttered, staring at the statue. "The scales have fallen from my eyes. How could I have been blind so long?" He slowly climbed up to the statue, pulling out his

from a concealed sheath.

"Thank you, God," he prayed. "For making Your humble ser- vant into an instrument of Your will." Then, he switched on the and jammed the tip of the knife into the statue's third eye.

Anya Yeraanyaa had been a member of the Church of the Third Eye for her entire life. As a child, she had helped hand out prayer books during the holy days. As a teenager, she had helped polish the sacred statues, relics, and artifacts. As soon as she had grown to adulthood she plunged into studying the sa- cred text and learning the magical arts of sorcery and divination. She had been a priestess of the order for nearly 200 years. Of course, her insectoid race lived far longer than most organic be- ings.

Anya had been napping, taking a brief rest from her latest prophetic ritual, when she was awoken by a noise from outside, like something was shattering. Throwing on a simple white robe, she walked to the gate, to see if something was broken or somebody needed help.

The man shoved his knife into the stone socket of the third and final eye, and deftly popped the granite eyeball out. Just

then, a strange insect, like a giant mantis or grasshopper, emerged from the temple. Its body was stooped and short, like a monstrously hunchbacked child. The antennae and mandibles surrounding its hairy mouth began to wave wildly.

"What are you doing?" the thing screeched, in a voice shrill and horrible. "That statue is holy!"

"Blasphemer," the man snarled, dropping with catlike re- flexes off of the pedestal. "You worship abominations. You are an abomination." The man held his up, and then proclaimed, "This is your destiny. Blood and hell are your fate. Accept it."

Anya ran back into the temple, as fast as her stooped legs would carry her. She had never learned any spells which could help in her religion was a peaceful order. But there was an enchanted silver sword hidden in the back room. It was normally used to dispel evil spirits which were accidentally summoned, but the blade was sharp and it was the only weapon available to her. The old woman ran through the sacred sanctu- ary, through the rows of pews, until she reached a small, locked door. With numb and trembling hands, she tried to get the right key from the chain around her neck. But it was already too late. She turned, and saw the man at the doorway. He brought one arm back and then made a quick downward motion. The vibro-blade in the hand sailed through the air and slashed through left side and arm.

"Please no," she begged, as the man picked up his knife. "I don't want to die."

"Demon," he growled, as he shoved the knife into her. Hours later, the ring of a phone awakened Lucius Mallen, a Wolfen detective. He crawled out of bed wearing only his box- ers, trying to shake off his weariness and answer the phone. His wife stirred slightly, murmuring, "Luke, will you please get that phone?"

"I'm on it, honey," he said, staggering across the room, his natural barely making a dent in the darkness. Finally, he reached the phone, and pulled the receiver up to his ear. "This had better be important," he muttered angrily.

"We've opened up the slasher case. You know, the one at the strip bar."

"Why? I thought that everyone was agreed that the Gergelleg pervert who ran out of the place screaming was the Did the down at the Loony Bin pull something interesting of him?"

"I don't think so. But the thing is, there's been another simi- lar murder. A mystic church got defaced, and the priestess got hacked to bits. We've still got the corpses of the strippers, so we're going to try and compare the slash patterns and depths."

"Do me a favor. Don't do anything until I get there. I want to get a good look at this latest victim before the forensics boys take their samples."

"I'll try to hold off the dogs, so to speak."

"Get a life, detective. Bad puns went out of style when the

legendary Old Ones were Young Ones. I'll see you down at the station house."

Lucius started to get dressed, slipping on his force field har- ness over a gray T-shirt and khakis. He had never felt quite

comfortable with the toys which were standard

issue, but greatly preferred them to going unprotected.

Rifter

Subscription

Don't become a slobbering beast driven mad because you're afraid you'll miss an issue of The Rifter™ Subscribe and get every issue delivered to your doorstep in a protective cardboard envelope.

One Year (four issues)