I didn't give a shit about what he would've wanted. Caliban was gone. There was only me and when I tormented Samuel it was for kicks only. That was the end of that particular story. "No stand," I answered. "I saw your singer use a headset. That's what I want." I'd need my hands free to open the gate. Clamping on to his arm with a tight grip, I stopped him as he started to move away. "Another thing, Samuel. Since you've been such a good guy, been such a pal." I bared my teeth in a travesty of a grin that predated my human form. "I'd like you to stick around and see the show. Admission is free." More or less.
He didn't avoid my gaze this time, but simply met it with eyes as empty as what was left of his soul. "All right." He knew what was coming, knew it and wasn't going to avoid it. The curse of a conscience wasn't a problem I was familiar with, but I had heard rumors. "I'll be back with the headset." I released him and he made his way through the gathering Auphe. Frowning, I watched him go. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that I wasn't going to have the opportunity to kill Samuel. He was making it entirely too easy; it took all the fun out of it. Either way, it didn't matter. Once the Auphe went through the gate there wouldn't be a Samuel to kill. There wouldn't be a Georgina either, and if Samuel had known that, I don't think he would've have been quite so resigned.
"It is time."
The whisper of the Auphe was repeated a hundred times over, rising in an atonal concerto that swelled high to the rafters. The words then melted into an inarticulate, needful moan that twisted the air in the same way a knife twisted guts into shredded flesh and spilled bile. It was the sound of a multitude of monsters calling for home. They stood shoulder to shoulder and watched me with the intensity of an exploding sun. Hundreds of bloody eyes were locked unswervingly in my direction. I could feel the heat of it on my face. Their icy, fetid breath panted in short, excited bursts as long fingers clenched and unclenched into spidery knots. Mouths gaped, lips skimming over adamantine teeth, as they mewled uncontrollably. They were the right hand of death itself, pale and pitiless.
Anyone with less intestinal fortitude, inhuman or not, would've been curled up on the floor sucking his thumb. I basked in the attention and took it as my due. I'd always known I was a star. Without me, the Auphe were nothing. I was the key, and the gate was a lock only I could open. At this moment I was, as I'd always suspected, God. Spreading my arms, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes, my streaming hair a silk touch on my shoulder blades. "Suffer the little children to come unto me." Opening my eyes, I smiled gently at the Auphe.
A shaken breath broke beside me. "Jesus. Sweet Jesus."
I tilted my head toward Samuel. "Oh, my sights are set higher than that." His face was as gray as that of a dying man and a cold sweat sheened on his skin. He ripped his eyes from the milling Auphe to me.
"What are they going to do?" Samuel's voice was hushed and strained to the breaking point, but his apathy had disappeared. It would be hard for even the most suicidal man to be complacent at the sight before him now.
I took the headset from his frozen hand. "I think it's a little late to be worrying about that now." I slipped on the headset, my eyes following him as he backed away slowly, step by step. "You might as well stick around, Samuel. There's nowhere you can go to hide from this. Nowhere in the world." He kept moving and I let him go, dismissing him from my mind. I had but one thought now. One aim. One goal. One desire. I turned my back to the Auphe to face the empty wall and held my hands out, fists clenched. Behind me they stood… a concert crowd waiting for the headliner to come onto the stage. They nearly filled the warehouse now that all were gathered together in fatal anticipation. The panting grew heavier behind me and then faded completely to a deadly and waiting silence. Before me one cleared wall flanked by speakers stood blank, a canvas waiting for the artist's hand. Beneath me the undying fury of restless souls howled for release.
I gave it to them.
Their energy rocketed into me with the force of a freight train and I reveled in it. Every inner part of me was clasped with greedy, ravaging fingers as the souls continued to rush up through me. Mindless, gibbering fury and need, it kept coming and coming until I thought I would explode into a thousand shards of rage and death. And it was for me, all for me. I felt my muscles spasm into rock-hard knots, felt my eyes open wide and stare at nothing. The sizzle of ions raced over my skin like lightning and the blood seemed to boil in my veins as I rose into the air. Feet inches off the floor, I was a fly in amber. And still it went on, an ocean pouring into a teacup. I found myself straining, stretching, swelling, until every cell shrieked out in protest.
Then it stopped. Finally, the influx halted and I hung, burning from the inside out. I still couldn't see, but I didn't have to. Opening my hands to frame the gate, I channeled all of that frenzy, all of that savagery, into one amplified, earth-shattering note. Singing was the one thing I had in common with my banshee sisters. For different reasons, yes, but we all sang. Some called it wailing or screaming or even shrieking, but it was none of those things. It was beautiful, passionate, life-destroying song. And that song fed every iota of the stored energy within me into a dark creation, channeled it into a wholly unnatural birth.