Eons of Darkness Book One: The Purging

By Reed Bosgoed

Humanity has long believed that it was the highest order of life on Earth, the pinnacle of evolution. We were wrong. There are others who covet the crown, and they aren't pleased with what we've done to the planet. Pollution and overpopulation have left our world crippled and spiraling towards utter destruction.
To many among the preternatural species, mankind is a disease that must be remedied if anyone is to survive the next step. Kagan, tyrant of the vampire cabal and his ally the mongrel father Ahmu, have raised an army. Fueled by hate and a mysterious stimulant simply known as "juice", they will cut a swath through human civilization.
The cabal is not without enemies, however. There are allies among the others, those who will strive for the betterment of all. An ancient empress and her most loyal general will lead the charge to save us all.
Humanity itself is not totally defenseless. The Angelista Corporation has been expecting this day for quite some time. Preparations have just been completed for the most advanced weapons system ever devised by man. All they need now is the right candidate, and they just found one. But will their invention be enough to protect them from a fanatical cult of elemental channels?
It's an adrenaline soaked thrill ride through a world of overwhelming darkness. Alliances will be struck, millennia old feuds will be reignited, and blood will be spilled in all corners of the globe. The end is nigh, The Purging War has begun.

Advisory: Frequent Graphic violence, Explicit Language, drug references
Age Range: 18+

• Language: English
• Publisher: Reed Bosgoed
• Release date: Jun 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301300464

Book preview

Eons of Darkness Book #1

The Purging

By Reed Bosgoed

Copyright 2013 Reed Bosgoed

Smashwords Edition

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CHAPTER 1

From a blackened screen, an image slowly comes into view. A single man sits calm and cross legged on an ornate sofa. He is tremendous in stature, seven feet tall and heavily muscled, dressed in a finely tailored suit and wearing glistening gem encrusted jewelry on every finger. Flanked on both sides by flowing azure banners emblazoned with a red crest depicting what appears to be a naked human bowing before a massive gaping maw. No sound can be heard beyond the low hum of a single halogen bulb hanging overhead. After a brief moment, the figure leans forward into the light.

His visage is gnarled and twisted. The skin is a sickly pale white with an interconnected string of scars up and down the sides of both cheeks from the base of the chin to just beneath the eyes. The twin bottomless pits emit a faint crimson glow. They are hollow; without emotion, without pupils. What is left of the nose is nothing more than a crooked bump and a single nostril. He opens his mouth into a wide grin, revealing several rows of elongated and jagged teeth. A mass of long white hair is tied back in a neat ponytail. After a quick glance off frame, he nods and begins to speak.

Greetings pitiful scum of the planet earth, my name is Kagan. He pauses for a moment to adjust his posture and look directly into the camera, I have come before you today to address humanity, all of humanity. You see, I am the foremost member of a rival species. The word in your common parlance is vampire. We have lived along side you since the advent of your menial existence. We have been your kings, your masters; we have been your Gods. However, as of late mankind has unfortunately lost his reverence for his betters. The smile leaves Kagan’s face and he begins to growl between sentences, "You have convinced yourselves that you are at the top of the food chain. You have grown beyond the means of this world to support you. Precious resources are wasted on an ever growing population of useless peons, drifting their way through short, meaningless lives. The oceans are poisoned, the skies are choking on the fumes of the nightmare you call progress. Your own scientists have warned you of the looming natural disasters you have created and still you sit idly by while the icecaps melt and the planet circles the proverbial drain.

There was a time when we relied on you as beasts of burden, as an easily accessible food source. There are cheaper and more efficient methods to nourish ourselves. It no longer amuses us to watch you quietly from the shadows. To put it bluntly: we’re sick of you, and it’s time for your civilization to come to an end."

He pauses and motions off camera with his right hand. A young girl is immediately pushed into frame. She is emaciated and dirty, wrapped in tattered rags, but appears for the most part to be unhurt. Kagan leans forward to meet the girl’s gaze eye to eye. Terrified, she immediately slumps to the floor sobbing softly. Grabbing her by the hair, he lifts her off the ground and points her face toward the lens.

Tell the nice people watching who you are and where you’re from. Staring straight ahead and now crying uncontrollably, the girl sputters but can’t form words. Infuriated at her weakness, Kagan strikes her in the chest, and drives her face first into the floor. She hits the cold tile with a sickening thud. After a few well placed kicks to the ribs he raises her up again, bloodied and spitting teeth.

Speak!

Between sobs and wheezes, the girl begins, My name is... Kaley Angelista. I’m f-from London, England.

The smile returns to the monster’s visage as he continues, And your father is Archibald Angelista, CEO of the multinational Angelista Corporation, correct?

Yes, he is.

For those of you watching who don’t know, Angelista is primarily an oil concern and is singularly responsible for more ecological disasters than all of its competitors combined. Isn’t that right, Kaley? As he finishes the sentence, he turns her head so that they are face to face once again. Her eyes still gushing, a puzzled expression falls over her face.

I...I’m not sure. Please, my father has a ton of money. You can have whatever you want, just please, please let me go. She stretches her hands out at her captor and pleads, For God’s sake, just name it! Tell me what you want!

Rubbing his hands together and licking his lips the monster chuckles lightly, You have nothing I want, insect. No amount of money or favours could ever make you more than a bag of meat in my eyes. However, there is something that I need. The girl’s face lights up and she excitedly blurts:

Of course, anything, anything you want! Razor sharp fingernails wrap tightly around her neck, and Kagan lifts the girl off the ground, holding her aloft directly in front of the camera.

What I need, you miserable wretch, is to set an example for the rest of your worthless species. With that, he squeezes and pulls, shredding the windpipe of the terrified girl. Shuddering like a leaf, she grasps at her neck trying desperately to stop the sudden rush of blood flowing from her freshly opened jugular vein. A waterfall of claret spilling out down her front, arterial splashing on the lens, Kaley desperately stretches out her hand off frame and mouths the words ‘help me’.

Now standing above the quickly expiring human, Kagan rears back with his right hand, and plunges it through the back of her ribcage. A deafening crunch echoes in the room, as Kagan twists his arm back and forth inside her torso. Pulling his hand back out, he produces her heart, displaying it proudly to the camera. With a smile and a wink he shoves it between his lips. Mouth wide open, he chews the organ into paste and swallows it, twitching with delight the entire time. Having finished his refreshing snack, he licks his lips and fingers, displaying for the first time his long, thin forked tongue. It darts from digit to digit, cleaning them of any remnant of his kill.

Picking up the husk of his now expired meal, he tosses her backwards over his shoulder. Kaley’s lifeless body bounces off the back wall and lands head first on the floor behind the sofa. The thunderous sound of her neck breaking brings back the pleased expression on Kagan’s face. Surrounded by the gory tableau he has created, clothes and couch now drenched in blood, he returns to his announcement.

We chose this decadent socialite as the first casualty for good reason. She is a shining example of all that so disgusts us about your world. Moreover, we want you all to realize that there are none among you who are safe. Regardless of how much you have, where you live, or who your daddy is, you are not safe. The kings in your midst will die just as readily as the paupers. There will be no peace talks, no negotiating, and absolutely no mercy. I am not here before you to declare war. That would imply you have some hope of survival. This is a courtesy. I am merely notifying you of your impending extinction.

He steps back and seats himself back down on the sofa, crossing his legs and cracking his knuckles, I am however a sporting man. To take you by surprise would be the act of a coward. The attacks will commence a week hence. So ready your militaries and kiss your loved ones goodbye. Those of you who have unfinished business, now would be the time. His gaze shoots sharply to the right, eyes widening, Oh yes, where are my manners? I’d completely forgotten. To our cousins of the other ancient tribes; your cooperation is appreciated but unnecessary. If you, like we, have the desire to see Homo Sapiens time on this earth come to an end, then by all means join us in our glorious cull. I will be available for parlay for the next few days if you’d like to coordinate with us. I must however caution you that any and all interference on your parts will be met with swift and decisive retaliation. He then stands up as tall as he can, takes a step forward and executes a theatrical, low bow. I look forward to hearing from all of you. By the time this is over perhaps the world will return to way it used to be. To the way it was always meant to be. But for the time being, from me to all of you, human and otherwise, good night. And more importantly, good luck. He caps off his speech with a wink, and the screen fades to black.

After going online, the video receives few hits at first, but internet buzz quickly mounts. Major news outlets around the world feature it in nationwide broadcasts. Much of the audience treat it as a ridiculous hoax, a publicity stunt perpetrated by a bored little rich girl with a penchant for drugs and no respect for authority. In the media circus that follows, her father is sought after for comment but is nowhere to be found. Friends of the victim post numerous video responses claiming up and down that she disappeared from her bedroom two weeks prior and hasn’t been seen since. As the hours pass by, the hits keep going up but the public consensus is not to worry about it.

Two days after the initial video is posted, a website appears, bloodwillflow.org. It features the original clip along with a host of new content, much of which are videos featuring other pale skinned and red eyed faces. Some are cataloguing firearms and sharpening knives, others calmly discussing the proper way to butcher or bleed out a human being. The page’s principal draw is a clock, ticking down to seven days exactly after the posting of Kagan's blood soaked public address. As the timer grows closer to the zero hour, public reaction remains by and large benign. Isolated pockets of doomsday enthusiasts aside, humanity treats it as nothing more than a joke made in very poor taste.

CHAPTER 2

Benjamin Guitierrez, phone in hand, is visiting bloodwillflow for the seventh time today, watching a new post. This particular one appears to be of three supposed vampires giving a tutorial on skinning a human body. It involves butcher knives and an intricate system of pulleys. People kept telling him the videos were fakes. He knows better.

The average person can’t tell the difference between film violence and the real thing. Ben is an enforcer for ‘La eme’, the Mexican Mafia. He’s committed enough violent acts in his life to know real blood when he sees it. The videos on this website are either the work of a group of dead eyed psychos, or there really are vampires out there.

Not that he’s too worried about it. Nobody he’s run across yet has been able to kill him. Not for a lack of trying either. His rise through the ranks of the organization was anything but peaceful. That’s how things go when you’re the small guy. You’ve got to prove yourself twice as often, twice as brutally. He’s done everything you might expect to earn his nickname. ‘Body bag’ doesn’t play games; he goes in shooting and doesn’t stop until the job is done. This current crisis will be no different. There’s an armory of brand new guns sitting in his trunk if things jump off with any assholes, supernatural or not.

Halfway through the clip, he’s interrupted by the familiar voice of his cousin Juanito, Hey cuz, what are you doin’ here? I thought I was the only guy comin’ to make this pick up.

Juanito isn’t the most useful soldier in the world. No matter how many times Ben tries to explain how to hold a gun properly, he goes right back to holding it sideways. A singular fondness for fried dough and cheeseburgers have given him a plump, soft physique. Maybe not the best gun hand in the world, but he’s family. Ben has been letting Juanito ride on his coat tails ever since he came to America.

The two men exchange a brief embrace, Good to see you, bro. I’m here because this package is an important one and I don’t trust your pudgy ass not to fuck it up on your own. He punches Juanito in the shoulder and lets out a derisive laugh.

Yeah, blow me bro. What are you watchin’? Don’t tell me you’re on that dumb ass website again. That shit is gonna rot your brain man. Quickly snatching the phone out of Ben’s hand, he looks at the screen and breaks out in hysterical laughter. HA! Man, just look at this nonsense! I mean for fuck’s sake the special effects ain’t even any good. At least they could have used somethin’ other than ketchup for the blood. This shit ain’t scary, it just makes me think about the hot dogs they sell at the Dodgers games. Tossing the phone back to Ben, he continues, So which terminal are we meetin’ our boy at Benny?

Number four. He should be on the eight PM flight from Tijuana. And for the record, we’re not here to meet him, we’re here to pick up one of his suitcases and that’s it. If you see him, don’t say shit to him, pretend he ain’t even there. Ben grabs Juanito by the scruff of the neck and pulls him off to the side, out of the way of the crowd of weary travellers moving through the crowded corridors of LAX. And as for this he says, holding his phone still open to the infamous website up to Juanito's face, That skinning vid might be bullshit, but have you seen the original?

Of course. Who hasn’t? They showed that shit on the eleven o’clock news on Wednesday night. I think the news lady called it the 'most elaborate hoax in recent memory.'

Ben responds with a swift slap up the side of his head. It’s no time for jokes. The numerous hours he’s spent surfing the site over the previous few days has him jumpy. It all seems way too real. He needs to make Juanito take the situation much more seriously, In the original video, you remember the part where he cuts her throat, right?

Juanito just shrugs at him, Yeah, so?

Have you ever slashed somebody’s throat Juanito?

Nah, I’ve shot a couple fools, but I’ve never been much for usin’ blades. I like to keep a safe distance when I’m taking care of shit.

Well, I have Juanito, more than once. The way the blood sprayed, the way it trickled down her front, it was too familiar. Not to mention the look on her face man. I know that look. I’ve seen that look. The fear, the shock, you don't ever forget that face. Noticing that their energetic conversation has attracted some undue attention from a nearby security guard, he loosens his grip on Juanito's collar. They resume walking toward their destination at a brisk pace, ignoring the guards repeated attempts to flag them down. Between the throngs of passers-by and the haste of their retreat, they manage to easily shake their pursuer.

At terminal four, Ben takes a seat by a window overlooking the tarmac and once again produces his phone. He cues up Kagan’s first address and holds the phone out so Juanito can see its screen, Pay close attention to when he slashes her bro, look into her eyes and tell me that ain’t real terror.

Juanito pushes the phone aside, OK, so say you’re not on crack and this video is real. What happens when the ticker gets to zero Benny? Do thousands of creepy euro trash punks with bat wings swoop in and steal all our pasty and depressed teenage white bitches? Cause that don’t seem too bad to me bro, white bitches are no fun anyhow. With a loud chuckle Juanito sits down in the chair across from his cousin.

Look, I don’t know what’s gonna’ go down exactly, alright? He leans in close and lowers his voice, But I’m sure that somethin' serious is gonna happen and when it does, I’m gonna be muthafuckin' ready! You should see the new hardware I got sittin' in the trunk of my ride bro. Anyone, vampire or otherwise that comes at me is gonna get a face full of buckshot spray.

Juanito’s eyebrows raise and a sly smile materializes, Nice. So how much time is left on that doomsday clock anyhow? We gonna be throwin' down with Dracula tonight?

Ben glances down at his phone’s screen. Doomsday is scheduled for the following evening, Just over twenty four hours left. So we should be cool for the time being just focusing on what we came here for. We’ve got two bottles of liquid yayo and some new orders from the hefe down in Mexico to grab. It’s gonna be in a grey suitcase labelled Steven Hollister. We grab it, we drop it all off back at the stash house and we call it a night. Truth be told, Ben doesn’t quite understand why the package was so critical. They have an excess of drugs, so the cocaine was just a perk. There has to be something very sensitive in that suitcase that he wasn’t told about.

A quick glance at his watch snaps him to attention. An infuriated expression plastered on his face, he says, God damn it, it’s already after eight o’clock. Let’s check the board. They look over to the departure board and see that every single flight on the list is delayed. The entire crowd erupts with mumbling and complaints. A cue fifty people long files up at the customer service desk; dozens of disgusted commuters demanding answers.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben notices that the security staff are talking into their radios much more than they logically should be. Juanito recognizes the concern in his face, What’s up Ben? Do you think we’re made? Say the word and we’ll bug out.

Ben drags him back to their seats, No, I don’t think so. But there’s definitely somethin’ not right goin’ on here, keep your eyes open. I guess for now, we just gotta sit here and wait. Ben pulls his phone back out and attempts to go back online. However, the screen turns up only a 'no service' message. He tries again, and again, but every time receives the same error message. A number of others are complaining about the lack of cell phone service, dropped calls and no internet connectivity. The chattering of irritated passengers is interrupted sharply by the high pitched scream of a small girl standing not five feet from where Ben and Juanito are sitting.

All eyes in the room immediately shift to the petrified child. She stands frozen, pointing out the window, shrieking uncontrollably. Ben is the first to her side, and the first to see the cause of her horror. Sitting on the tarmac, is what can only be a human corpse. Though it is difficult to tell, considering that physically, it looks more like a puddle. It’s a viscous red smear with the odd touch of bone protruding from its gelatinous mass. As Ben studies the blob further, he realizes that the body is wearing what looks like a united airlines pilot’s uniform.

Another body hits the ground further down the runway, and another, and another. People all over the terminal begin shouting that they can see more coming down as well, but not all were landing with a splat. Some of them are landing safely on their feet.

Like the man who just touched down directly in front of Ben. The falling man slowly turns around to face the multitude of onlookers with an ear to ear grin. Smiling wide in order to bare his elongated teeth as prominently as possible, the stranger issues a casual wave to the dumbfounded people gazing out the window. The terminal explodes into a panic. The petrified masses begin running off wildly towards the nearest exits. Security staff do all they can to defuse the situation, only to be run over by the irrational stampeding crowd. Ben, however, is completely calm and his eyes remain glued to the vampire. It raises its gaze to the sky and points the index fingers of both hands straight upwards.

Above the vampire’s head, Ben spots a jumbo jet hurtling towards the ground nose down. Others notice it at the same time and the panic among the crowd reaches a fever pitch. Juanito grabs him from behind and pulls him back, screaming, Everybody get the hell away from the windows! The plane collides with the tarmac. The shock wave from the crash shatters all of the terminal's windows. Shards fly off in all directions, striking numerous people, including the cousins. They both take several pieces to the backs of their heads, knocking them to the ground stunned. As they struggle to their feet, they hear a sequence of other explosions coming from all around. There is a cacophony flames, shrieking and shrapnel flying through the air no matter where they look.

Ben regains his bearings and attempts to join the crowd streaming towards the nearest escape route, a greyish blur streaks by right in front of his face. He turns his head in time to witness a vampire clamping down its jaws on the neck of an elderly woman. Several others are now leaping into the building through the shattered windows. Security guards open fire on the intruders, but to no avail. Darting back and forth so quick as to be barely visible, the assailants overwhelm the security force effortlessly. The rare bullet that makes contact seems to have no effect on the cackling creatures, who proceed to bite into the closest edible morsel.

The constant rush of frenzied people crashing towards the doors combined with the carnage breaking loose causes a bottleneck effect that the vampires happily take full advantage of. Ben’s initial hesitation has caused them to wind up near the back end of the pack, and the rushing bloodsuckers are quickly dispatching every man, woman and child in between them. Desperate for a means to defend themselves from the advancing attackers, they pick up the closest chunk of broken glass they can get their hands on.

While Ben is bent over picking up his glass shard, a vampire hitches a ride on his back. Quickly spinning himself around, he slams his attacker’s head into the nearest wall, momentarily stunning it. He takes full advantage, driving his shiv into its unprotected neck. Juanito follows suit, jamming his makeshift weapon deep into its left eye socket. The wounded animal stumbles a few steps and falls down coughing up blood.

The blood looks more like flowing black tar than the crimson stream surrounding them. It’s a dank, foul smelling ooze that coagulates as soon as it hits the floor. Taking another piece of glass and slamming it into the vampire’s heart finishes the job. It folds up, squealing and writhing in pain. Every other creature in the room snaps their attention towards it. They all toss aside whoever they’re eating and converge on Ben.

He is drop kicked in the chest and sent hurtling into the wall, knocking the wind completely out of him. Juanito tries to