The Mantis Equilibrium - Book Two - 2. Chapter 2 - Vion, Part One

Sunrise stretched over Teshon City, but within one of the Messiah residences, there was no movement. No one stirred. None of the five people who fell asleep in that dormitory the night before, now awoke with the morning.

Behind the thin veil of grey clouds, the sun crept up the winter sky. The city below began to stir, and the people started their daily activities.

However, inside the Messiah residence, the five bodies remained unmoved. The hours slid by, and it was not until sunset that another of their fellow Messiahs visited the house.

He stepped up to the front door, knocked, and called out, “Hello?! It’s me, Vion! Is anyone in there?!” but he received no reply and headed around to the back. There was still saw no sign of his companions, so the empowered Messiah looked at the top of the two-story building. He squatted down, then leapt with ease up onto the slanted rooftop.

Vion peered in through a window, but the sight that befell his eyes shocked him. He slipped and almost plummeted from the roof. The fall would not have injured him, but he caught himself and again approached the glass. He could not believe what he saw.

He slid open the window and the vile stench of rotting flesh and scorched hair hit him in the nostrils. He staggered back, retching and covering his face. There were two other windows that he could access and he opened them both to help air out the communal bedroom.

Vion could not tell which body belonged to each of his now-dead friends. They were all horribly destroyed. Two of the bodies were little more than skeletons, each a sickening shade of green, and much of their flesh was melted. One of the bodies sizzled with tiny sparks of purple electricity that crawled across its epidermis, which was now charred and blistered. The final two were like crystalline shells of themselves. Their appearance was similar to the shed husk of a cicada, almost transparent and just as delicate.

Vion wrapped a scarf around his mouth and nose, and he forced himself to enter the repulsive room. He reached out and touched one of the clear shells that still possessed the shape of a person, and it began to crumble. Vion could not cry; he could barely react at all, and he stood staring from one ruined body to the next. When the stink made his head start to spin, he climbed back out onto the rooftop. His nose and mouth felt polluted from the repulsive air, and he spat and snorted. Then he balled his fists and wailed his despair at the darkening sky.

His sorrowful brain barely comprehended the information his senses gave him. Vion fell to his knees and sobbed into his hands. His best friends were dead. Those people who were closest to him, his brother and sister Messiahs, they were gone.

Less than an hour later, Vion was back at the front of the residence. He was standing behind the Principal Messiah.

She unlocked the door and entered.

Vion and several of the woman’s officers entered behind her, and they all headed upstairs towards the large shared bedroom. The horrid stench was overpowering and two of the Principal Messiah’s crew ran back down and outside to be sick in the street.

Vion coughed through the scarf that covered his mouth and nose, but he managed to say to the Principal Messiah, “Let me be the one to find out who did this, and I will bring the killers before you for your justice.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he added, “They were my friends.” His gaze moved over the bodies.

The Principal Messiah dry-heaved and then waved for the others to return downstairs. They joined the two already out in the street. Each of them pulled down their face coverings and tried to catch their breath in the clear air.

Vion and the Principal Messiah’s eyes met. She said to him “Do it. Find out who killed them. I bestow upon you the title of High Truth Seeker. Chenchi and Proge,” she said to her two officers with sturdier intestinal fortitude, “you will be my inquisitor lieutenants. Aid Vion in discovering who is behind this massacre of our people.”

“It shall be done,” replied Proge. He was not a large man, but he was a Messiah, and size mattered little to the empowered. Proge was also a stern individual, who smiled rarely and exuded a seriousness that was so infectious that it was almost viral. His dour expression possessed the power to ruin moods.

Chenchi also responded to the Principal Messiah. “Yes, milady.” Chenchi was a burly woman with thick thighs and muscular arms. Her hair was long and straight, and she wore it twisted back in a severe bun. She turned to Vion. “What are your first orders, High Truth Seeker?”

He looked at his two lieutenants. “As much as I hate to say it, I think we need to examine the room and the bodies. Maybe we can dab some scented oil onto our face coverings before going back in,” he recommended.

With several drops of neroli on their scarves, the three reentered the house and climbed the stairs back up to the gruesome bedroom. Proge rushed over to another window that was still sealed, and he slammed it open.

“Let’s each…” Vion started, but he coughed in the foul air. “Don’t talk. Go out when you need,” he finished. He pointed at the beds, then for long minutes, the three did not speak.

Vion stepped between the two transparent husks of his friends. Much of one was already crumbled to dust from when he touched it before, and he leaned close to the second body to examine it. He did his best not to bump the bed or disturb the fragile remains. He could not tell who it was. There was no hair on the pillow, and the person’s skin tone was now nonexistent. Vion realized that he could even see the organs and bones that were also translucent. He turned to the other body. Its chest and part of its head were now dust, and only the arms and legs were still intact.

His two inquisitors examined the other remains. Chenchi was leaning over one of the green-boned and melted bodies, while Proge knelt beside the one that still crackled with electricity. He reached out to touch it, but before his fingertip even came into contact with the scorched flesh, the purple sparks rushed to his hand and blasted him away. Proge slammed into the wall and fell to the floor.

Neither of his companions bothered to look over at the electrocuted Messiah.

Chenchi brought her hand to the scarf over her mouth, holding it close as she spoke. “The bodies are booby-trapped,” she declared.

“I don’t think so,” replied Vion. “I touched this one earlier and it started to disintegrate.” He coughed at the putrid air.

Chenchi pulled a large knife from its sheath at her hip and gave one of the melted bodies a tentative poke. Nothing happened. She tapped the flat of the blade against the green skull’s forehead, and it rang out in the quiet room. The bones were solid.

Proge pushed himself up. “Fucker shocked me,” he said.

There were no longer tiny volts of electricity crawling across the charred body.

“What could’ve done this?” he asked, looking at the other corpses.

“Only one thing,” Chenchi replied.

Vion stated what she was thinking. “Shifts.”✪