The God's Mark

The God’s Mark

Flora Winters

I do not own Witchblade and I’m not making any money here either.

Summary: There is an ancient deity on the loose and it is targeting those who commit hate crimes against homosexuals. This story will contain boy love, strong language, explicit violence, and some original characters.

Chapter One

Ashley gazed out the window with bloodshot blue eyes. He was buckled up in the front passenger seat and the detective was behind the wheel of the bright red Mustang. He had no idea what year the vehicle was. Tommy had been the one who had been into cars and all that stuff. Those bright green eyes would have been able to tell what year the car was just from the way the sun shone down on the paint. He used to humor Tommy by going to car-shows with him. It turned out that he had had a good time every time they had gone to one. Now, he would never again get to see those emerald orbs light up like a Yule tree when they spotted a sweet looking zoom-zoom.

“Are you hungry?” Detective McCartey asked, causing him to quickly wipe the stinging tears from his tired eyes with the back of his already wet sleeve. “I can stop and pick you up something if you would like.”

He turned his head and looked at him, shaking it. He felt like he would never be able to eat anything ever again. All he could see was Tommy tied to their bed and that fly…

“Are you sure?” The detective asked him, stopping at a red light. “I know this place that makes the best burgers you’ll ever eat.”

“No,” he said, leaning his head back against the black leather seat. He felt like he was going to be sick. “But thank you anyways, Detective.”

“Well, I honestly don’t know how long you’ll be staying with me, and I don’t cook,” Detective McCartey said, pressing his foot down on the gas when the light turned green. “So, just let me know when you’re hungry and I’ll order you in something to be delivered.”

“Thank you,” Ashley told him, looking straight ahead. He could feel the tears coming on again, and he really wanted to scream. It was all he wanted to do.

He held up his bandaged hand and looked it over. He wished he had rammed it through his boyfriend’s killer’s skull instead of the wall. It was hurting him just slightly, but it was a slowly fading pain.

“I saw drawings on the walls in the living room,” the detective said. He sounded like he was trying to make some conversation in the silence. “They were all of different characters, but they all looked just like you.”

“Tommy loved to draw me as different mythological creatures,” Ashley smiled as he looked over at the older man. It was amazing how Tommy had been a jock and yet had a 4.0 GPA. Stereotypes were such lies. “He drew me as a faun dancing in the moonlight, a banshee singing at a dying man’s window, a faerie prince bathing in a rose blossom, the Medusa seducing Perseus, an elf shooting a monster, a merman saving a drowning sailor, and so many others that were not in the living room. He told me that I was his Cauldron of Inspiration.”

“What about the one where you were gazing into a mirror?” The detective asked with a cocked brow. “It was the one hanging over the sofa in the corner. Your face looked dark and twisted.”

“Ah, that one,” Ashley smiled sadly, looking into the mirror on his sun-visor. He looked so pale. “We had gotten into an argument a few years ago. I spotted him with another guy at our favorite place to eat out. I assumed he was cheating on me. Well…I dumped his food over his head and stormed off, leaving category-five winds in my wake. It soon turned out that the guy was his cousin who wanted to come out of the closet to his parents.”

The detective whistled.

“I know,” Ashley said, putting his visor up. He didn’t want to look at himself. “He drew that picture to show me what I looked like when I mistrusted him. He drew the darkness in me. It was the one picture that truly frightened me, because it was like he had captured the jealous creature deep down inside me. I had him hang it there so that it would always remind me to never mistrust him.”

“What did he call it?” The detective asked him, honking at some guy on a bike.

Ashley looked out his window. “He called it, The Jealous Queen.”

“Snow White?” The detective snorted, turning onto another less crowded street.

Ashley nodded. “Tommy was obsessed with Grimm’s Fairytales and world myths. He would usually always read me some haunting or disturbing tale before bedtime.”

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” The detective asked him for the third time since he had gotten into the sports car

Ashley looked at him and then at the time on the radio. “I’m sure, Detective McCartey.”

“Your boyfriend played football,” he said, pulling into what turned out to be an underground parking facility.

Ashley smiled. “I never missed a game, Detective.”

“Call me Jake,” he said, driving past some already parked cars. “So, how did you and him…you know…I mean, he was a jock and you’re obviously a male model for some queer pride magazine…but…he was a jock…”

“Not all homosexuals are drag queens and scream when they break a person’s spinal cord, Jake,” Ashley told him. “But, drag queens are the most dangerous of my species. They are each expertly trained to bludgeon someone to death with a stiletto.”

Jake lightly chuckled and he did sound a little nervous. Ashley looked at him with a curious eye. The poor guy actually looked a little pale. Was he a wee bit homophobic?

“I want you to catch my boyfriend’s killer,” Ashley told him. “And I want to look into that monster’s face and smile as it’s carted off to the hell that it deserves to drown in for as long as my soul knows how to hate.”

Jake nodded his head. “We will catch him and he will be punished to the full extent of the law.”

“He destroyed my life, Detective McCartey,” Ashley said. “I no longer have a home. That fucking son of a cunt raped, tortured, and killed my only reason for still living! He’s not a man! He’s a monster! It should have its intestines removed and lashed with them until dead!”

“Do you go to school?” Jake asked him, pulling into a parking place, turning off the car.

“Yes,” Ashley nodded. “I take classes in my spare time when I’m not in front of a camera.”

“What were you studying?”

“English and Theatre,” Ashley told him, taking off his seatbelt. “Why?”

“No reason,” Jake said, pulling out the key. “Come on.”

Ashley got out of the car and watched Jake take his luggage out of the trunk. The detective had packed some things for him, because he hadn’t been allowed to enter his bedroom. He had wanted to say goodbye, but the lab people wouldn’t let him.

“The spare bed and bath is yours,” Jake said as Ashley followed along beside him into the building’s spacious lobby.

That was when his cell phone began to ring. “Hello?”

“Oh, Ash!” The voice on the other line yelled. It was his best friend Lydia. “Where are you? I just got your voicemail. Are you all right? What happened? Why were you crying like that? I couldn’t understand a word you were saying. Are you drunk?”

Tears flooded his eyes and he had to stop. The breath had frozen in his lungs. It was real. It was all fucking real. Tommy was dead. Tommy was dead. Tommy was dead…TOMMY WAS DEAD! He dropped his cell phone and collapsed to his knees. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t fucking breathe. It hurt. It hurt so much.

“Hey,” Jake said, kneeling down beside him.

He wrapped his arms around himself, pulling on his shirt until it ripped. He was rocking back and forth, fighting not to break down. The small of his back was burning like someone was dripping acid onto it.

“Ashley,” Jake said, taking him by the arm.

He threw his head back, laughing as darkness blinded him. He could hear the haunted chanting, feel the heat of the flames, and smell the agony of heartbreak on the mournful wind whispering through leaves. They were calling to him with the blood of sacrifice, demanding he right the wrongs against them. He could taste that crimson warmth upon his greedy tongue.

“ASHLEY!” Jake yelled, and he felt a sharp sting across his face. His eyes snapped open and he fell over onto his back, looking up at the ceiling lit with bright lights. He sucked in a much needed deep breath and put a hand to his stinging cheek. The detective had slapped him. At least, he assumed that was what happened. “Are you all right?” Jake asked him, hissing as he massaged his hand. “What is your face made out of? Iron?”

“I’m sorry,” Ashley whispered, rubbing his cheek as he slowly sat up. “I just…”

“Let me help you,” Jake said, helping him to his feet. “You just lost the most important person in your life. I think you’re allowed to go crazy.”

“I just want to sleep,” Ashley said, looking around for his cell phone. There it was on the ground, busted into three pieces. He gathered them up in his hands.

“You can do that,” Jake said, leading the way again. “The elevator is right around the corner.”

“You’re the first person to ever strike me in the face, Jake,” Ashley told him, stepping onto the elevator with him. “If you didn’t have that gun, I’d kick your ass.”

Jake patted it. “Saved by my piece.”

“Will Detective Pezzini come here?” Ashley asked him.

Jake nodded.

Ashley took his bag from the detective. He hoped he still had that weed and sleeping pills in that hidden compartment. He was going to fucking need both.

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Sara made her way into Gabriel’s little shop of magical wonders, telling him straight up that she needed books or a website on Celtic symbols. She felt just a tad bit stupid for not getting a picture of the tattoo on the victim’s boyfriend’s back. She had been too startled by the vision of that frightening creature lounging on that stone altar like a god.

She told Gabriel what she had seen when she had touched the amber yellow marking on the gorgeous boy’s back. The dark headed guy actually whistled when she got done giving him all the details. There was so much excitement in his eyes that it really annoyed her. The young man was too easily excited when it came to supernatural things that would easily scare the shit out of normal people. But, then again, Gabriel was everything but normal.

“Your victim was a homosexual,” Gabriel said, scanning through a shelf of old looking books. “And the boyfriend had this spooky symbol on the small of his back that showed you hooded people worshipping a winged creature that you can’t even describe because it was so pretty.”

“Yes,” she said, telling him about the dark grove of trees. He told her all about druids and sacrifices to the ancient gods. She had dealt with a crazed druid months ago who was trying to summon her through blood sacrifice. This was just getting weirder and weirder.

“You know,” he said, pulling out several books. “This would be a lot easier for me if I had a picture to go on.”

She rolled her eyes, holding out her hand. “Give me one of those.” He did so and she took a seat at the round wooden table. There were bottles filled with powders she didn’t even want to know about scattered all across its glossy surface. “That poor boy,” she whispered, flipping through page after page. She couldn’t get the image of the corpse out of her mind. She suddenly saw those amber yellow eyes looking at her from out of a face beauty couldn’t even describe. It was just a flash. She gazed down, seeing that her hand was on the symbol that was on Ashley’s back. “This is it.”

“Wow,” Gabriel said. “You really are an awesome detective. Let me see that.”

She pushed the book over to him. “Well, what is it?”

“A very powerful rune of binding,” he said, picking the book up. “Even the most powerful of druids would be burned if they used this.”

“Again,” she said, leaning forward. “What is it?”

“In a time of war or great suffering,” he said, gazing at the symbol. “The druids would take a male sacrifice unto a great altar and bind a god with this rune into human flesh.”

Sara snorted. “Yeah, like humans could do that.”

“Like I said,” Gabriel told her. “The druids would offer up their own lives to the divine flames just to perform this rite.”

She looked at him. “They would all die?”

“More than likely,” he said. “Gods don’t like to be controlled, Sara.”

“So, why is Ashley carting this rune around on his back?” She asked.

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. “Many people get tattoos of ancient symbols all the time, Sara. He probably doesn’t even know what it means.”

“But,” she said, holding up a finger. “He has this tattoo and he is suffering greatly…maybe his pain triggered that vision.”

“Perhaps,” he said, smiling with white teeth. “Or he is a sleeping god walking around in human flesh just waiting to kill everything in site.”

She touched the Witchblade. It felt so warm against her cool flesh. That was when her cell phone began to ring. She pulled it from her pocket and answered.

“What?” Gabriel asked when she suddenly got to her feet.

“I’ll be right there,” she said, hanging up, putting it back in her pocket. “I have another victim.”

“What do you want me to do?” He yelled after her.

“Study that rune,” she told him, heading for the door. “You can’t be too careful, can you Gabriel?”

The door jingled as she opened it.

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Jake walked into the guest bedroom to see that Ashley was curled up on his side on the bed, sleeping quietly. The blond looked so eerie, sleeping like that. He was pretty…too pretty…and he didn’t he like it. There was a homo in his apartment, sleeping on a bed, in a room, he way paying for.

He hated gay people. That was all there was to it. They were disgusting and unnatural. How could a guy sleep with a guy? It was just…gross! He couldn’t even imagine kissing one. It made his stomach turn just thinking about it. But…those lips did look really soft.

He ground down on his teeth. He found that he wanted to hit him just for looking the way he did. The blond was beautiful and tempting. He wanted to hit him just for having good lighting with the way the sun was shining in on him.

That was when his cell phone began to ring. He quickly answered before it could wake the homo up.

“Hello?”

“Jake,” the voice said. It was Sara. “We have another body. How is Ashley?”

“Sleeping,” he told her, leaving the room. “Where is it?”

He wrote down the address and picked up his keys.

“Are you leaving?” A voice said from behind him, causing him to jump with a start. He spun around, seeing that it was the queer.

“I have to go in,” he said. “You will be safe here. Nobody knows where you are.”

Those blue eyes looked so sad and disturbed.

“I have to go,” he said, walking by him, being careful not to touch him. He had touched him enough to last him a lifetime. He never wanted to have to touch another queer again.

“Be careful,” the blond whispered. “That monster’s out there.”

“You can have whatever you want in the fridge,” Jake told him, heading to the door. “You really should eat something, Ash.”

“DON’T!” The blond yelled at the top of his lungs, making him turn around to look at him. Those icy blue eyes looked insanely scary. The boy’s skin was white as bone. He was trembling. His voice lowered to a spooky whisper. “Only Tommy was allowed to call me that.”

“Sorry,” Jake said, wanting to punch him. He was keeping him safe and this is how he was treated. He didn’t even want him here.

“No,” Ashley whispered, turning around, dropping the sheet from his bare shoulders, giving Jake an awesome view of his slender fit body. That tattoo contrasted in a disturbing way against that snowy flesh. “I’m sorry…I just…”

“Just eat something,” Jake told him, looking away from him, reaching out to open the door. “Only answer the phone after it rings twice and hangs up.”

“What about the door?” Ashley asked.

“You won’t have to answer the door, blonde,” Jake told him. “I live here.”

“Right,” Ashley deadpanned.

Jake nodded and walked out. He made sure the door was locked securely before heading to the elevator. Once he was inside, heading down to the lobby, he leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

“Never again,” he said, rubbing his arms with his hands. He could still remember that night when he was thirteen. “Never fucking again…”

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Sara just stood there, looking down at the corpse of Brandon Cruse. His throat looked as though something had slashed deep into it, constricting it like a serpent, and what was left of his face had been smashed in by something powerful. His brains were all over the carpet and the yellow wall. The smell was terrible.

He was 23 and had attended the same college as Tommy Davis. The school ID card had been in his wallet. This could not be a coincidence.

“What the hell?” She asked, looking from the corpse to the cop across from it.

“You’ve got me,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

She scratched her head. The guy looked like he had gotten the shit beaten out of him…literally. She looked up at the ceiling. “And why would that be there?”

“Well,” Jake said, popping his head down through it. “From the looks of it, something clawed its way out.”

She blinked. “Clawed?”

“Look at all the wood,” he said, pointing. “Look at those deep gashes. I’d say they’d match what’s been done to that guy’s neck, too.”

“What are you telling me, Jake?” She asked, walking over to look up at him as a camera flashed in her direction, blinding her for a moment. She put a hand over her eyes. “Are you telling me a monster did this?”

“I don’t have a clue,” he said, swinging down on the rope. “But, the guy was killed here in that spot by someone really strong.”

“He’s right,” Lena said, looking up from the body. “This guy’s face was smashed in by a shoe and from the looks of it, a stiletto.”

“You’re telling me that a woman constricted this guy’s neck with her bare hands and stomped his face in with her heel?” Jake asked.

“Give me a few more minutes,” Lena said.

“Or a really big drag queen,” Sara said, looking at Jake. There was something in his eyes. He looked spooked. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, turning back to the body.

“What’s this?” Lena asked, lifting back the stiff’s front pocket. She reached in with a pair of tweezers and pulled out a condom. It had most definitely been used. That was for damn sure.

“Who would put a used condom in their pocket?” Jake asked. He looked disgusted. “And is that…”

“Fecal matter,” Lena said, looking right at Sara. “And I hope we all know what that stuff is inside the plastic.”

Sara bent down and placed a gloved hand over the victim’s destroyed face. The Witchblade burned warmly against her flesh. She could hear chanting, see fires burning all around. There was wicked laughter on the sweet scented air. She suddenly saw this man backing away from something. He was terrified and screaming.

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t help myself! He was just so handsome. I’m so sorry! Please, don’t kill me!”

A hand not human suddenly had the man by the throat. Those fingers were long and razor sharp like talons. They were digging into the doomed man’s neck.

“Oh, Honey-Pot,” a cruel voice hissed. It was the sound a nest of angry serpent’s made. “You became mine the moment you struck my fag across the face and stuck your cock up his unwilling ass.”

Sara pulled her hand back and looked right at Lena. “I think we have our rapist.”

That only left one frightening question. What the hell had killed him? That hand had not been human. No human voice could make the sounds that one had made. It wasn’t possible.

“What?” Jake asked.

“I think this man killed Tommy Davis,” she said, getting back to her feet.

“Well, what the hell took him out?” Jake asked, pointing at the corpse.

“Someone pissed and very strong,” she said.

“Ashley?” Jake asked her.

She shook her head. “Sure, he punched his fist through that wall…but this guy is twice his size.”

“Given what happened to that poor guy’s lover,” Lena said, getting to her feet. “I honestly can’t blame him if he did do this. But, I don’t see how that would be possible. This guy was strangled with one hand and his face was stomped in after he was dead.”

Sara put her hands in her jacket pockets. That was exactly what she had seen in her vision. She had seen those deadly talons grab this bastard by the throat. “He went to the same college as Tommy did.” She turned back to Jake. “We need to see if Ashley knew this guy or not.”

Jake nodded, holding up his keys. “Do you want me to drive?”

“I’ll follow you,” she said.

“And I will call you the moment the results come in at the lab,” Lena told her, packing up her stuff.

“Good,” Sara said, giving her a smile. She knew this bastard was the rapist and now all she needed to do was figure out what made him pay for his crime. She just hoped it wasn’t what she saw it to be in that vision.

“Ashley,” Jake said. “Sara and I are on our way back. We’ll be there in twenty.”

Sara got on her bike, putting her helmet on. The Witchblade glowed red in the darkness as Jake walked away from her. A bone snapping whisper echoed in her ear and she had no idea what it was saying. It was distorted and cold as ice. It wrapped around her neck like a flowing silk scarf, giving it a little squeeze. She quickly shook her head, and started her bike.

TBC…

Please review and tell me what you think.

Flora.