The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Gerard Winters’ Office – New York City, New York

Gerard checked his watch. It was eight in the evening. He had spent much of the day in solitude, the lights in his office turned off, staring into the night sky. He was waiting patiently. His honored guest would soon arrive. Despite having lived for thousands of years, the wait was excruciatingly long. He had instructed that he was not to be disturbed until his guest had arrived.

It was getting late. His flight should have been in by 6PM. He wondered if something had gone wrong.

It wouldn’t be a surprise. Lately, it seemed everything had been going wrong. But he had to make things right. For the sake of the Order…for the sake of everything he had worked so hard to build.

Matthew Freeman checked his watch. It was eight in the evening. It had been a quiet drive over to Gerard’s office building. Helen, Kimberly and Angel all offered to accompany him. He said no. Gerard had summoned him for a very important meeting. He knew what it was going to be about.

The Order of Kings was faltering...it was weakening…it was about to undergo its downfall, and Gerard…no…Azazel, wanted to make sure that it was prevented.

He stepped into the waiting room, and a platinum-haired blonde stood to greet him. She hugged him, giving him a passionate French kiss that caught him by surprise. Had it been that long since he had seen her?

“Hey, Sharon…how are you?” Matthew asked, smiling warmly at her.

She returned his smile with one of her own. “I’ve been…good, strangely. But Gerard…”

Matthew nodded, understanding her completely. “How is he?”

Sharon sighed deeply. “He’s been better…that’s for sure. I’ve never seen him so…depressed. When you speak to him it’s like half of him isn’t even there. Something’s wrong with him, Matthew. I don’t know what to do…” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I look stupid, don’t I? Here I am crying about someone who never really cared about me and…and…”

Matthew kissed her again, and Sharon melted in his arms. “You care about him,” he said softly after they parted, “despite everything, he’s still your Master. But not for long,” Matthew said, comforting her.

Sharon smiled. Matthew was right. She would be turned over to him…to Matthew, and everything would be all right.

“He’s inside,” Sharon said finally. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”

“Thank you.”

Sharon walked to her table and pressed the red intercom button. “Mister Winters, Mister Freeman has just arrived.”

A long pause.

“Send him in…” Gerard’s voice came. It was raspy and dry.

Sharon took a deep breath and made a gesture with one hand, signaling that Matthew was free to enter.

Matthew took a deep breath of his own and stepped inside.

The room was dark, save for a small lamp that remained on atop Gerard’s desk. But Gerard wasn’t sitting there. He stood on the far side of the room, a glass of scotch in his hand. He was staring blankly at the television screen, which was on. Matthew stepped forward and tried to see what he was watching.

He recognized the footage.

“Your victory over Balthus…” Gerard said.

Matthew watched as the battle between he and Bernard Jonas Jeffries unfolded on the screen.

“Where did this—?” Matthew began.

“Recorded by Lieutenant Isaiah Solomon,” Gerard answered, “he, Darius and Alicia had cameras in their goggles…”

Matthew nodded. He watched the footage loop over and over, seeing the battle he had won not so long ago over and over. Gerard did not look at Matthew for the longest time. He stood mesmerized by the sight in front of him. Matthew took the time to study Gerard. Gone was the chin that he once held so high. His shoulders had dropped, he breathed uneasily. His head was hanging lower than he had every seen. Was this really the Gerard Winters whom he spoke with not so long ago?

“It’s just beautiful…” Gerard said finally.

“What is?” Matthew asked.

“This…” Gerard said, pointing to the screen. “It reminds me…of a better time.”

Gerard switched the screen off, and the lights came back on automatically. He turned to Matthew, and upon seeing him that old spark came back just a tiny bit, and Gerard carried himself with an aura of authority again. Less, certainly than what Matthew had been used to, but it was there nonetheless.

“There used to be a time,” Gerard said softly, “when the Order of Kings was first established, that we simply TOOK what we wanted, and when others got in our way, we simply swept them aside like garbage. There used to be a time, my son, when that—” Gerard said, pointing at the blank television screen, “was what I would have done to my enemies.”

“You still can—” Matthew began, but Gerard interrupted him, raising his hand and shaking his head.

“Not anymore—” he said, taking another gulp from his glass and looking out the window. “Not anymore,” he repeated.

“What’s this about?” Matthew asked.

“It’s about change, son,” Gerard said after a long pause. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that the past two weeks have brought on many problems for us…”

“The problem in South America is taken care of—”

“YES!” Gerard said loudly, “BUT—it is the beginning of many…” Gerard trailed off, and Matthew saw his shoulders drop again.

“The Order—” Gerard said, “—is failing.”

Matthew said nothing.

Gerard continued. “Can’t you feel it, son? No, no—of course you can’t. You’ve been an Ascended One for no more than a month and already I’m asking you to fight for us on every front…but I feel it, I feel it—”

“Feel what?”

“CHANGE!!!” Gerard said, looking at Matthew, a look of desperation in his eye. “The winds of change are blowing us away, son!”

Matthew remained silent, calm and collected. No emotion showed on his face.

Gerard didn’t stop. “Over the world, we’ve been weakened. All Fallenkind now knows of the Crusade, and all of them now know that the Ascended are vulnerable. Now they seek to usurp us…they seek to take that which we have held for so long…POWER.”

Matthew nodded. “So what do you propose we do?”

Gerard chuckled. Matthew raised an eyebrow. “You know—it’s funny.”

“What is?” Matthew asked.

Gerard looked out the window again. “A couple of months ago—we in the Order began to debate on whether or not you were worthy of Ascension. Now it seems that you are the Order’s only hope…” Gerard paused. “There something you should know, son…”

Matthew said nothing, but his curiosity was peaked.

Gerard did not need to look back at Matthew before continuing. “The Order of Kings can no longer help you…it can no longer help itself.”

“What do you mean?” Matthew asked.

Gerard shook his head. “What I mean is—it’s no longer possible for the Order of Kings to fight to keep what Power is left to us…the only one left capable of doing anything…” Gerard paused, before looking grimly at Matthew, “...is you.”

Matthew did not respond.

Gerard continued. “I’m sorry, son, but that’s a fact. We can’t offer you the help that we once did, no more Knights to lead, no more endless supplies of cash at your disposal, no more government connections that will allow you free access to whatever you need or desire…we’ve lost so much of our Power over the past month…”

Matthew shook his head. “What are you saying?”

“What I’m saying is…is that if the Order of Kings is to survive…it all depends on you, Matthew,” Gerard said with finality. “This Crusade has left us all weakened. I have not felt this weak since the days that preceded the Order of Kings. I know now what has become of us…our Power has reverted to what it was when we were only Empowered…”

“But how is that possible?” Matthew asked. “Lu-Makate said that we only needed half the Order to still retain the power of the Ascended!”

Gerard nodded. “And perhaps we were mistaken…”

“It can’t be…”

Gerard sighed. “It’s the only explanation, son. The Order of Kings has never been reduced to so few members, it’s only natural that we didn’t TRULY know what would happen if our numbers dwindled. Only Vincent believed that half the Order was needed to survive…but since the Order of Kings has always been at full-strength…we never really knew the consequences of this failure.”

“But surely…surely there is a way to restore the Power of the Order…”

Gerard smiled as he looked back at Matthew. “Yes, there is…one chance, and only one chance.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow. Just then, Sharon entered with a red, unmarked folder. She placed it on the desk and stood silently in one corner.

“In that folder…” Gerard said, “is a list.”

“A list of what?” Matthew asked.

“Potentials.”

“Potential what?”

Gerard smiled. “The only way to restore the Order…is to restore our former number…we need to make us ten-strong again.”

“You mean you want to Ascend other Empowered Ones?”

“YES! And bring back our glorious reign over all Fallenkind!” Gerard said. “This folder contains six of the most trusted Empowered I know. It will be enough—”

“Wait—six?” Matthew said.

Gerard paused. “Yes.”

“But we only need four…”

Gerard sighed deeply. “Sadly,” he said, “in any war, my son, there must be casualties.”

Matthew shook his head. “Surely you can’t mean…”

Gerard nodded. “There are those within our Order who are no longer deserving of their place within our brotherhood.”

Matthew remained silent, his thoughts wrapping around what Gerard was proposing. “You want to kill Narisa, don’t you?”

Gerard nodded. “You broke her—”

“So she wouldn’t be a threat to us—” Matthew began.

“And so she isn’t,” Gerard interrupted. “But the fact remains that she is alive. And for so long as she is alive she will continue to feed on the circle of power that the Order of Kings relies upon. Her death will sever the connection between the Order and her permanently.”

Matthew breathed deeply. “Even if you’re right, and I’m NOT saying that you are, that makes our number five…”

Gerard nodded again. “Yes, yes it does,” he said calmly, “Lu-Makate has focused his efforts on his family…not the Order. He is no longer of any use to us. He…must be dealt with…” Gerard said, looking at Matthew in a grim and serious manner. “He betrayed us, and he is therefore…expendable.”

“You can’t!”

“WE—MUST!” Gerard said.

“It’s MURDER!”

“IT’S NECESSARY!” Gerard screamed. “For our SURVIVAL!” The glass in his hand shattered. Sharon raised a hand to her mouth, stopping herself from screaming.

Matthew clenched his fists. “No…it’s necessary…for you to keep power…”

Gerard’s eyes flew open. He realized that Matthew was right. He took a deep breath and recomposed himself, brushing his silver hair back and fixing his suit. “I’m sorry you feel that way, my son.”

“I’m not your son,” Matthew said angrily.

Gerard nodded. “Forgive me,” he paused, “Matthew.”

Gerard reached into his coat and pulled out a handkerchief, and slowly wiped his hand clean of scotch and broken glass. “I’m sorry,” he said again, “but my opinion of this remains unchanged. You cannot possibly hope to understand, Matthew. The Order of Kings has held to its power over all Fallenkind for countless millennia…we cannot allow this failed coup d’etat to simply push us aside…” Gerard said, watching Matthew’s face for any change. Seeing none, he pushed the issue further, “You must realize that there is no other way.”

“Can we not find one?” Matthew asked.

“You can try,” Gerard said, “but you will fail.”

Matthew didn’t respond.

Gerard smiled. He picked up the remote control from his pocket and turned the television on again. Matthew’s final moments, locked in a life and death struggle with Balthus, played once more. “The glory days of the Order are within are reach once more, Matthew. We simply need to take it for ourselves. We’ve been too preoccupied with hiding our secret for too long, hiding from mortals who cannot hope to even stand against our power! With no one to hold us back…we can turn this world into our empire!”

Matthew said nothing.

“But we need to start by ridding ourselves of those who would seek to hold us back…” Gerard said. “I trust that in time, you will see it my way. Please, at least think about it.” Gerard paused. “Sharon, dear, could you get me another glass of scotch? And Matthew as well.”

Sharon complied, and walked over to pour Gerard and Matthew a glass each. Still, Matthew said nothing.

“I hope you understand, Matthew. I promise you, this is the best way for the Order of Kings to survive…” Gerard said, raising the volume on the television. “Simply beautiful,” he repeated, watching Matthew’s hand make contact with Balthus’ face in an explosion of light and lightning. Gerard chuckled as he watched Balthus scream to the high heavens as he flew…

“There is one thing that does bother me, though,” Gerard said as he swirled the ice cubes in his shot glass after Sharon handed him the glass.

“Oh?” Matthew asked curiously as Sharon resumed her position by the door of the room after handing him his own glass.

Gerard nodded. “It’s just…Balthus was never a patient man, and he never did have much respect for anyone save himself. He was an arrogant, brutish, obstinate, unsophisticated bastard, but he was no idiot. I find it hard to believe that he tried to undergo the Final Ascension with only three others, I mean of course, Pandora, Pandragore and Zarastopheles supporting him…it doesn’t make sense. Still, I suppose it doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

Matthew nodded. He paused for a bit, as if pondering what next to say. Gerard noticed immediately. Matthew cleared his throat and spoke, “I have to agree with you there. It doesn’t matter. I must confess, though, I haven’t been completely forthcoming with you…”

Gerard raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that right?”

Matthew smiled. For some odd reason, Gerard found it rather disconcerting. “See how Bernard shouted the word ‘TRAITOR’?” Matthew asked, making a nod to the footage Gerard was watching.

Gerard looked at Balthus’ final moments on the screen and turned up the volume. Indeed, Balthus had screamed it as Matthew sent him flying out of the building. “Yes…” he said slowly.

Matthew nodded as he raised his glass to his lips and took a small sip before talking again. “Bernard DIDN’T plan to do the Final Ascension with only three others. Another Ascended One planned to help him…” Matthew looked towards Gerard, an evil glint in his eye.

The glass in Gerard’s hand began to shake slightly, as Winters’ grip tightened. “Who might that be?” he asked, refusing the answer he suspected Matthew had for him. He held his breath.

Matthew chuckled lightly. “Relax, Gerard…I didn’t mean it to be me…”

Gerard visibly relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief. “Then who?”

Matthew took another sip and looked at the city skyline. “Jacques Deveraux,” he said blankly.

“Deveraux?!” Gerard exclaimed.

Matthew nodded.

Gerard shook his head. His brow furled. “But,” he began, “Deveraux was killed…”

“True,” Matthew agreed, “but nevertheless, it was him. I’m sure of it.”

Gerard nodded. “Well, that could explain why Balthus screamed the word ‘TRAITOR’ during his final seconds. Deveraux must have changed his mind about the operation…and paid the ultimate price.”

Matthew absentmindedly looked into the night sky. “An acceptable explanation…but no.”

Gerard shot him a look.

Matthew grinned and turned away from Gerard. Walking towards the bar he set down his empty glass and poured himself another round.

“What do you mean?” Gerard asked.

As the scotch flowed, Matthew spoke. “Think about it, even if Deveraux, or Surtur, as I now like to call him, was in reality, Balthus’ strongest supporter, and then decided to betray him, why would Bernard think of him in his final moments? In fact, I’m rather convinced that it was he who pushed Balthus to attempt a Final Ascension ritual in the first place. I sincerely doubt he would have betrayed Balthus…”

“So you’re saying Balthus’ beast, the Psuedo-Collector—who was it? Zane was it?”

Matthew shook his head. “I killed Zane. At the time, Blackwell was Balthus’ animal.”

Gerard nodded. “Blackwell must have lost control…accidentally killed Surtur when he was only supposed to kill Zaphkiel…”

Matthew raised the glass to his lips, but shook his head again. “Another good theory, but wrong as well.”

Gerard threw one hand up and shook his head, laughing lightly. “Fine, fine. I give up. Just tell me what happened…I’m dying here.”

Matthew chuckled. “You have no idea,” he muttered. Gerard heard him, and shot Matthew a quizzical look. Matthew walked towards Gerard’s table and placed a hand on the office chair he once sat in when he first met Gerard in this office. Sharon remained silent.

Ignoring Gerard’s request for a straight answer, Matthew turned to him. “Do you remember when we first met here?”

Gerard smiled. “How could I forget? You came here, head held high, brimming with confidence, and without fear or pause you accepted your destiny. I was very much impressed. Azrael would have been proud.”

Matthew nodded. “I asked you then,” he said, “if you and Azrael were friends. Do you remember what you said?”

Gerard looked up, as if trying to recall. “I think I said something to the effect of—”

“Perhaps it was not so much friendship that we had as it was mutual respect, and to some extent, a rivalry of sorts,” Matthew said, repeating word for word what Gerard had said on that fateful day.

Gerard looked slightly awestruck. He nodded in recognition, though. “Impressive. Photographic memory as well…is there anything you can’t do?”

“Not anymore,” Matthew commented.

Gerard raised an eyebrow once again.

Matthew ignored him and pressed forward. “But tell me, Gerard. You weren’t completely candid with me regarding your history with Lancaster, were you?”

Gerard took a deep breath and smiled. He realized then that Lancaster had probably told Matthew the truth. “He told you about us…” Gerard said, “didn’t he?”

“I knew about you,” Matthew confirmed.

Gerard chuckled in surrender. He smiled as he looked at Matthew before speaking slowly. “We weren’t just rivals…we were sworn enemies…it’s true. I thought he hadn’t told you, so I assumed it would be unwise to bring up the past.”

“After everything I’ve been through, I think I’ve earned the truth, wouldn’t you say?” Matthew asked.

Gerard nodded. “I respected his Power, I won’t be ashamed to admit to that, but he and I could never get along. He was always lecturing me about how we should be more responsible and how we ought to respect humans. Of all of us, it was he who truly thought that our time on this world should have been used to redeem ourselves…and I refused to listen, stubbornly, I might add.” Gerard took a sip from his scotch. “Twelve thousand years ago, he decided to help humanity. He taught them technology, philosophy, educated them in the sciences and in faith. He created a utopia unlike the world had ever seen…”

“He created Atlantis,” Matthew said.

“Yes,” Gerard nodded, “and it was MAGNIFICENT. So magnificent that it made every single nation that grew with it look insignificant. The world’s populace flocked to it, seeking perfect lives and perfect futures in a perfect city. Artisans, architects, philosophers, sages, scientists, healers, laborers…all the world’s brightest and brilliant minds of the time concentrated in a true Shangri-La where happiness and enlightenment was a true possibility.”

Gerard’s face grew grim. “But destiny has a way of laying low that which is great…and Azrael’s paradise was no exception.”

“What happened?” Matthew asked, though the tone of his voice suggested he knew the answer.

Gerard humored him. “What usually happens when a being has…in the eyes of his enemies…TOO much.”

“And that enemy was you…” Matthew said.

Gerard nodded. “But not just me. ALL Empowered. You have to understand, my dear boy, Azrael created Atlantis to better human life. When he first approached the other Empowered, they spit in his face. They called him a fool and an idiot for sympathizing with mere mortals. I admit, I was one of them. I never so brazenly insulted him, but when he came to me for help, I shunned him, fearing others would not respect me if I stood by him. But when he created Atlantis, who was the fool then?” Gerard trailed off a moment, as if remembering those long-forgotten times. “Suddenly, everyone else was the fool. We had created petty little kingdoms and tribes that did nothing but squabble over paltry pieces of land and dirt and food and water…but Azrael, the Ascended whom all Fallenkind had ridiculed, he created Atlantis…”

Matthew spoke, “And they wanted revenge.”

Gerard shook his head, but in disappointment rather than disagreement. “Yes, revenge for a crime that Azrael did not commit…and I helped them. They came to me, demanded that I lay low Atlantis, destroy everything that Azrael had worked for, simply for the sole reason that they could not accomplish what he could.”

“Did you?”

“No. I came to Azrael, and pleaded with him to allow other Fallenkind to establish positions of Power within Atlantis, to ease their jealousy.”

“But he refused…and then you stormed off,” Matthew said, “and you helped plan the final assault on Atlantis. A thousand nations descended upon Atlantis’ walls a year later, led by hundreds of Empowered Ones. You kept your hands clean, and you did not join the siege. But you, Balthus, Surtur and Pandragore lent your troops to the cause. Lancaster and his Vassals and his nation of two million fought valiantly, and it took a hundred years for the walls of Atlantis to fall…”

Now it was Matthew who was giving the history lesson. “Fire and ash rained day and night, and when the smoke cleared, true enough, mighty Atlantis had been laid low. The single bastion of hope in a time when humanity was constantly on the brink of extinction, had been destroyed. That single great light where man could reach for the stars, extinguished. When it was all said and done, hundreds of Empowered and their Vassals had died, and over six million mortals had lost their lives, not including the women and children of Atlantis…” Matthew trailed off, setting down the glass and looking at Gerard. “You masterminded the greatest massacre in human history, and you and the Order set about rewriting it so that great sin would never be known.”

Gerard’s grip on his glass began to tighten once more, and he began to shake. “Vincent knew that—”

“AZRAEL knew that you were behind the final assault, yes.”

“I thought that—”

“You had fooled him? No, no you didn’t,” Matthew said. “In fact, Azrael decided that it was too much. Six million murdered, and all for what? Just to destroy what you could not create. Just because he had the Power that you and others craved…and if you couldn’t have it, no one could. In the years that followed Atlantis’ fall, Azrael devised a plan…a plan that would take centuries to complete…” Matthew took another sip from his glass.

Gerard began to move to the far side of the room. He didn’t like where this was going. Sharon simply held a hand to her mouth, too stunned to talk. Matthew took little notice, and instead continued to speak.

“He believed that Fallenkind had been put on this Earth to make a new beginning, and he decided that for that to happen, certain… ‘elements’ had to be dealt with. He needed a symbol, a symbol of immense power that would strike fear into the hearts of evil. He needed something so dark and sinister, even an Ascended One would fall to his knees by the very mention of its name,” Matthew smiled. “I’ll give you three guesses at what that symbol was…and the first two don’t count.”

Gerard mouthed the words, but the sound was barely audible. “Soul…Collector…”

Matthew smiled wickedly, an evil glint in his eye. He nodded in agreement and placed his glass on the table.

“The Soul Collector,” Matthew said, his voice sounding like scraping metal.

In the blink of an eye Gerard saw Matthew enveloped in living shadow, a hooded figure that could only be described as the grim reaper himself…but even then, the terror that filled Gerard Winters’ office was far beyond that of the promise of death. What stood where Matthew once did was a being of sinister shadow and black terror, the only visible features a tattered hood and cloak, and somewhere, somewhere in that deep black pit where his face ought to have been, he saw glowing eyes with malevolent intent.

The room air became thick, and it was difficult to breathe. Gerard could almost feel a dark cloud crushing his very being.

Gerard had little time to act. His hands erupted forth a violent flame and he sent it towards the Soul Collector. Gerard shouted as he unleashed his most powerful attack. But the flames disappeared in the inky blackness of the Soul Collector, and Gerard heard a monstrous cackle.

“Nice try…” the Soul Collector said, in that horrifying voice.

Gerard backed into the office wall beside the armoire that held his television. If only he could get to it, he thought to himself. The top drawer of the armoire held his only chance of escape.

But the featureless, menacing stare of the Soul Collector was on him. There was no way he could move faster than the Soul Collector could react.

Without warning, the Soul Collector began to convulse, and slowly the shadow began to ebb, fading and fading in a cloud of black mist. And as quickly as the Soul Collector had manifested it was gone, and Matthew Freeman stood, a wide grin across his face.

“You—you’re—you’re the Soul—the Soul Collector!” Gerard stammered weakly.

Matthew smiled. “Guilty as charged…” he said, throwing his arms wide. “You see, to make demons quake in fear, I needed to be even more frightening than they were. But always, always, always, the Soul Collector was meant to take monsters like you down...and by the end of today, you will be just another notch on the Collector’s belt. Just another demon that the world will be safer off without.”

“Impossible!” Sharon screamed, tears running down her cheeks. She had been silent for so long, Matthew had almost forgotten that she was there. “You can’t be…you can’t be…”

”Oh, but I am,” Matthew said. “And so much more,” he smiled, looking at her.

Gerard saw Matthew’s momentary lapse in concentration as he looked towards Sharon. It was his only chance. He opened the top drawer and reached in, producing a small blow dart gun. He aimed and fired, and it struck Matthew in the neck.

Gerard smiled. Matthew shot an enraged look back at Gerard, but in seconds his eyes drew half-closed. He began to breathe deeply. As his eyelids began to droop, he fell to one knee, and then to both. Soon he was on all fours, panting. Sharon could only look on in horror.

Gerard stood tall, a triumphant sneer on his face.

“So, the Soul Collector lives after all,” He said, in a voice filled with conceit and rage. “but not for long…”

He strutted forward and leaned down, grabbing a fistful of Matthew’s hair. He pulled him up and gave Matthew a wicked smile of his own. “You’re pathetic, Matthew. You had me, but you couldn’t finish the job right then and there. You’re just as pathetic as Azrael was. HA! Like master, like student, I guess.”

Gerard threw Matthew down to the floor and kicked him in the gut. Matthew winced in pain. “You were right, you know. I HATED Azrael. He was a damn fool. Always whining about redeeming ourselves and how humans ought to be treated.”

Gerard kicked him again. “Always mouthing off about how this Power we had over them was a responsibility, a gift that we could use to better their lives! Every single day I woke up and looked outside my window, and do you know what I saw? I saw the sparkling tips of Atlantis’ spires and towers outside my palace from miles away, mocking me, reminding me of what he had accomplished, reminding me of my failure. I could almost see that bastard Azrael laughing at me.”

Another kick and Matthew winced in pain again. Gerard laughed. “The bastard was such a bleeding heart. His death was the best thing that ever happened to the Order!”

Sharon watched in despair as she watched her master kick Matthew over and over again.

Gerard wasn’t finished.

“But I have to give him credit…creating you was a stroke of genius. I never knew. He actually planned to kill me! He actually had it in him! I suppose he thought I really deserved it. After causing that stupid massacre in Atlantis.” He looked down triumphantly at Matthew, sprawled on the ground.

Suddenly Gerard felt two hands grab his arm, pulling him away from his victim. It was Sharon. “Please, please, Master…please don’t kill him!” she pleaded. “He’s…he’s a good man…” she cried.

Gerard snickered. His hand quickly grabbed a fistful of her platinum blonde hair. He raised his other hand, and it ignited into flame.

Sharon watched with horror as Gerard smacked her with his flaming hand, sending her crashing into the far wall, which cracked with her impact. She fell to the floor, lifeless.

“BITCH!” He screamed. He looked down at Matthew’s motionless form and laughed maniacally. “You’re a fucking piece of work, Collector. You even managed to turn my own Vassal against me. Quite impressive. It’s a shame you couldn’t have been my weapon instead. I’ll be honest,” Gerard said as he bent down to grabbed Matthew’s hair and raise it up so he could look at him, “you actually had me scared, even back in the Middle Ages, the thought of facing you could almost make me piss my pants.”

Gerard playfully tapped the dart embedded in Matthew’s neck and laughed. He noticed those dark brown eyes look angrily at him, then focus on Sharon, who lay unconscious on the floor on the far side of the room. Gerard laughed even harder. “Even now, your concern is for a pathetic human! Let me tell you this before I kill you…humans are no more important than insects…mortal pawns in a game with immortal kings. They are nothing more than servants, tools, slaves. They are expendable. Those six million dead when Atlantis fell? That’s nothing. I’m responsible for tens of millions of deaths, you fool, and before the new century is up, I’ll probably be responsible for many more! A thousand wars, the Bubonic plague, Nazi concentration camps…all that can somehow be traced to me…and I regret nothing. NOTHING.”

Suddenly Matthew’s eyes flew open. “That’s all I needed to know…” Matthew stammered, “now I can kill you.”

Gerard raised an eyebrow, then laughed hysterically. “Whatever you’re thinking, you can forget about it. The poison in that dart is Madame Li’s most powerful concoction. Even I wouldn’t survive it. It will paralyze you, and you will die slowly and painfully. It will dissolve your flesh from the inside out, and as you die in agony, as you rot from the inside, I will laugh. Abandon hope, you pathetic fool. The potency of the poison is such that the only one who could possibly survive it was Surtur!”

“Perfect…” Matthew said, then he smiled.

Gerard’s brow furled. Before he could react, Matthew’s elbow came straight up, landing a solid blow on Gerard’s chin. Winters’ was knocked off his feet and into the ceiling. Matthew raised his hand and Gerard remained pinned to the ceiling in a spread-eagle position, as if he had been nailed to it.

“I—I—IMPOSSIBLE!!!” Gerard screamed. He thrashed his head about, but was unable to move. Blood from his mouth started to drip down to the floor. Gerard suddenly felt a powerful pain in his jaw…and he instantly knew it had been broken.

Matthew smiled as he stood, removing the dart from his neck and twirling it in his hands.

“Unfortunately for you,” Matthew said, “you just aren’t the listening type, are you? You never listened twelve thousand years ago, you aren’t listening now.”

Gerard sneered in defiance. Matthew shook his head. “Didn’t I tell you that Surtur was one of the Ascended Ones who sided with Balthus? In between that time and now, didn’t you ever stop to think as to WHY Surtur was killed? Or even better, WHY he was killed in a different way than Zaphkiel was?”

Even in his state, Gerard could not contain his curiosity. Matthew smiled. “It didn’t even cross your mind that Surtur was dead when Zaphkiel got there, which means that he was killed at around the same time when I disappeared from Nice for three days?”

Gerard’s eyes opened wide. “It was you…”

Matthew nodded. “I killed Deveraux, and absorbed his Power as the Soul Collector.”

Gerard laughed. “So why all the theatrics? Why even pretend to be affected by the poison?”

“I needed to know if you were willing to change,” Matthew shrugged. “It was always the will of Azrael that all evil Empowered be dealt with swiftly, but also justly. He wanted to give everyone, even you, a chance to reform, to redeem themselves. But obviously, you aren’t going to do that. Admitting to murdering millions and millions of people for your demented selfishness and arrogance has convinced me that there is little choice in the matter. Your execution is inevitable.”

Gerard cackled maniacally and even louder than before. “Stupid, worthless fool. Even in death, Azrael is still a weakling…Go ahead, complete his vengeance.”

This time Matthew laughed. “YOU STILL DON’T GET IT?!”

Gerard looked at him in a mixture of confusion and anger.

Matthew smiled. “This isn’t for vengeance, you moronic megalomaniac. Only one thing ever mattered to us.”

“Oh? And pray tell, what would that be?” Gerard asked.

“Final Ascension.”

Gerard gave a victorious laugh.

Matthew raised an eyebrow. “Something amusing about that, Mr. Winters?”

Gerard gave an evil, sardonic smile. “Even in victory, you lose, puny human. You put Narisa out of commission! I certainly won’t perform it on you! And even if you did manage to convince Zerapova to back you and even with Madame Li and that freak Gutambo to support you, that’s only three of them. You’ve failed!” Gerard laughed.

Matthew rolled his eyes. “And you’re stupid,” he said. Gerard stopped laughing. “You’ve ALREADY performed it on me, idiot.”

“Then you’re twice the moron I imagined you to be,” Gerard insulted, “a Final Ascension is an Ascension ritual performed on one who is ALREADY an Ascended One, fool. You were just a Vassal.”

Matthew shook his head. “I’m disappointed in you, Gerard. I actually thought you figured it out.”

Gerard shot him a look of confusion. “What the fuck are you—” Gerard started.

“What I created, I created for man,” Matthew interrupted. Gerard shot him a look of disbelief. The words were familiar…words from a distant past. Matthew ignored him and continued. “I came to you, and you turned me away. I offered salvation for everyone, but the offer was rejected. I offered my hand, you showed me your back. Now that I have risen above you, you seek for me to fall. I cannot help you, you who have refused to help yourselves. I have offered humanity the path which you rejected, and just as two travelers who seek different destinations must take different paths, so too must the Empowered seek one of their own. I have given humanity a path to salvation, driven by faith and hope. You and all of Fallenkind seek a path to domination, driven by greed and lust for power. Our destinies are not the same. Our paths are not the same. I cannot help you…” Matthew finished, and Gerard looked absolutely dumbfounded. Word for word, every line spoken in the same passion and ardor they had been said four thousand years ago.

Gerard was too shaken to move or speak. It was the same speech that Azrael had spoken to him when they confronted each other prior to the destruction of Atlantis. “Those words…” Gerard said slowly, “Azrael’s words…how could you know them so accurately?”

“Simple,” Matthew shrugged, “they’re MY words.”

Gerard shook his head. “That’s impossible…” he whispered, “that’s—impossible” he stuttered, “THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!!!” he screamed.

Matthew smiled as he walked over to Sharon. “Impossible, but true…” he said, as he knelt down. He cradled her in his hands. Her face was burnt badly, but Gerard watched as Matthew placed a hand over it. His hand began to glow a soft white light, and in seconds her face was flawless again.

“Matthew?” she said softly as she stirred and her eyes fluttered open.”

“Shhh…” Matthew said softly as he lifted her up with one arm. “Sleep and rest.”

Gerard shook is head. It couldn’t be. “NO! NO! Then Lancaster was—”

“—a Vassal. A loyal and trusted one in fact…and more specifically, he was MY Vassal…” Matthew said. He twirled the dart in one hand, and in one smooth flick of his wrist, he launched it, striking Gerard in the neck, in the exact spot where he himself had been struck.

“No...no…NO!” Gerard wailed in realization. “YOU—YOU—”

Matthew smiled.

“I AM AZRAEL” Matthew said, finally.