Silent Dawn Chapter 1

Silent Dawn: Chapter 1 (WoH)
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2008
Belgrade, Serbia

Her footfalls echoed across the stone hallway of the old ceremonial building. The power was down, caused by her underlings which plunged the village into darkness. Torchlights were erected instead, inserted into the mouths of the corpses whose jaws were broken to fit the sticks properly. Their hands were crucified on the wall, some had their eyes gouged while others still possessed it, staring blankly upwards at the ceiling.

The wall on either side of the figure veiled in green was draped with the flag of Serbia, though it was splattered with the blood of the building’s employees. In her neck, a pendant carved in the likeness of the four-mouthed Archdemon, Vorago Viridis, known in the grimoires as the Green Maw, hung and swung back and forth in every movement she made. She twirled a carved ceremonial dagger whose edge glowed in green.

At the end of the corridor, two sisters, equally veiled in green, which obscured their countenances, stood. They opened the door leading to the office of the village’s mayor. The red carpet beneath made her feel like she was following a trail of blood on the floor. Inside the room, the mayor’s desk was flipped aside. Four women, whose ages ended in four, were bound and gagged in chairs, facing each other. They were weeping as the Priestess of the Maw approached them.

She toyed with her knife, playfully touching its tip as she approached the youngest of the quartet – a woman of twenty-four in age. She traced the knife’s tip in her exposed leg before nicking her skin and letting forth droplets of blood. She winced at the pain while the Priestess simply laughed. She lifted her veil partially, revealing a fair skin and velvet lips, to lick the blood before dropping the veil once more.

“You should consider yourself lucky.” The head of the Coven said. “Your deaths will never be in vain.” She walked in the center of the quartet. “Four more deaths, four more rituals, and our god shall walk among the mortals again, singing in mouths of four. And all the stars in the heaven shall tremble in his might.”

They cried. The Priestess approached the youngest and slit her throat. She struggled and whimpered as blood escaped from her exposed throat. This made the others wildly struggle against their bonds, but the Priestess simply cut their throats as if they were chicken. Each of them now slumped dead in their chairs, their blood dripping into the floor and created a puddle.

The Priestess soon left the room. Her subordinates joined her as they leave the building. The village soon was engulfed in a bright flash and everyone not belonging to the Coven were instantly turned into green shadows. Devoid of flesh and sentience, they ended up becoming feral, shapes running to and fro like ghosts without purpose. The Priestess grinned beneath her veil at the sight of this once she and the others walked towards the road.

“To the next.” She simply said. The veiled witches of the Coven of the Verdant Veil left without a trace, or so they thought.

In the distance, a squad of Agency operatives from Special Infantry Division Zeta-78, codenamed “Jungle Walkers”, due to their expertise in forested combat, be it enchanted or not. They walked across the mist-covered forestry like visiting phantoms; their eyes were covered with illuminating Dark Fighting System goggles designed for visibility in Altered Spaces or paranormal-induced mists.

“Command,” the leader spoke as he pressed a key in his earpiece. “This is Zeta-7-8-Lima, reconnaissance complete, we have visual on the target, over.”

“Activities?” The other voice inquired.

“Confirmed, sir.”

“Return,” the other voice replied.

“Yes, sir.”

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The village previously attacked by the Coven of Verdant Veil now suffered frequent green-colored storms called “Emerald Winter”. Green humanoid shapes sometimes wander into view across empty streets. Dogs, birds and other animals were not an exception to this forced mutation. The buildings, which flanked both streets, became geometrically incorrect, suggesting that the ritual also caused it. This section of Belgrade became a ghost town, including those previously attacked by the Coven.

Major Nikolic, Site-B14’s Operation Officer, stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He stood quiet, unable to process what had befallen his childhood town. Thoughts ran across his mind: places, memories and family members. He does not want to look at the list of casualties curated by the operatives under his command in fear of seeing a familiar name, though it did sowed bitterness and growing hatred for the Coven and the paranormal in home.

The fight had escalated from a mere job to a personal one.

He turned around, walking past a C4ISR officer facing a computer. The Agency officer halted beside an Ordo Militiae priest from the Order of Saint George. The priest bowed his head in greeting.

“I…don’t know what to do, Father.” Nikolic admitted. “They’ve struck the third time. The recovered audio logs kept hinting at something destructive once they repeated the ritual for the fourth time.” He let out a sigh.

“Always remember,” Father Carson spoke, “evil will never triumph in this world.”

The Major looked back at the screen where green shadows sprinted rabidly across a park which he previously frequented in his childhood.

“That’s…hard to believe right now.”

The C4ISR officer suddenly turned.

“Sir, a message went through.”

Nikolic turned and approached him.

“What is it?”

“A rad-message.” He pointed at the screen.

Nikolic read the short line.

“Reinforcements?” Nikolic frowned as he glanced at Father Carson. “I did not request one!”

Carson approached closely.

“Perhaps this is the reckoning you’ve been waiting for. Perhaps God found the Coven’s sins long overdue and a verdict has finally been reached. Perhaps we will be a witness to a judgment.”

Nikolic stood, frozen.

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(Silent Dawn Tale)