The Phoenix: The Slasher of the Ruasar House Part 4

"And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,"

Zisbuz nodded at the man behind the bar, spun on his heels, and strolled back up to find Kou standing in the doorway. The rain seemed endless on this late-night, and Zisbuz had wondered where all the water was going. Kou could’ve come into the bar; it didn’t matter to anyone inside. Drinking had been a way of life in the Empire for a long time, and Kou was old enough to have a malt or two even if Nesma didn’t like it. But she didn’t care to be around all those people. Zisbuz had noticed this about her as of late. She didn’t want to be around anyone but them. And if she wasn’t around them, she wanted to be alone.

                “Anything?” Kou asked.

                Odd how a few months can change things, Zisbuz thought, glancing down at her.

                “Nothing which could help us,” Zisbuz said softly, walking down the sidewalk. Kou followed his every footstep along the wet path. Zisbuz glanced away from her, trying to hide a smile. He once had a family a long time ago. He had children and a wife and knew the simple joy of life, but war and blood were his callings. The Empire took him away to the battles. He lost his family and his old life.

                He had forgotten what it was like to have a person of pure joy near him. Kou had lost everything; he understood that, but thinking back to her playing with the kittens made his heart grin. Life might have been hard for her, and it was only going to get harder, but it couldn’t do anything to halt the joy of youth.

                She at first acted like one of those kittens. Scared and unsure of the ship, most of all Nesma and himself. She ate with them. Zisbuz showed her around. Nesma gave her an array of duties aboard the Phoenix. She had to pull her weight as they all did, but she didn’t laugh with them. She did her job, went back to her room, and came out only when asked.

                One night, Zisbuz had a nightmare that seemed to plague his sleep. His family burned up in orbital cannons right before his eyes. They danced in the cannons' burning pale red lights, and there was nothing Zisbuz could do to save them.

                He watched them die in his dreams. He got up from his cot, making his way into the ship's middle, where the kitchen sat to find Kou baking.

                “Are you making muffins?” Zisbuz asked, almost making Kou jump. She pulled the headphone off her head, and he could hear the tunes from across the room.

                “Yeah? Is that okay?” Kou asked.

                “Only if you share,” he said, and they sat there for a few hours chatting over steaming muffins.

                He wished he had some of her muffins on this chilly night.

                “So, Nesma likes to read, huh?” Kou asked.

                “It’s the only thing which brings her joy,” Zisbuz said. “I mean, yes.”

                “Good to know,” Kou said, nodding.

                “Why?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

                “Chirstdom’ Eve is coming up soon,” Kou said.

                “Ah,” Zisbuz said, nodding. Chirstdom’ Eve for the believers of the religion called the One Way or the Faith, who said there was only one God and His Son. It was a tiny religion taking root in the Empire, but also was being persecuted because they wouldn’t pray to any of other faiths. In their temples, they didn’t allow a placeholder for the other faiths of the Empire. They believed everyone was equal in the eyes of their God, and all other faiths were false. They didn’t win over many people.

                But they did have Chirstdom’ Eve. The day it was said their God made the heart of the Empire turn blue and go cold. The star stopped letting all in the worlds known to the Empire the Son had come to the stars, but he was never found in the stars.

                He guessed it didn’t matter if the Savior was found or not. What mattered now to him and everyone else in the Empire was the time of stardate, where everyone was meant to be joyful and give gifts.

                “You want to get Nesma a book then?” Zisbuz asked.

                “Do you think it is stupid?” Kou asked.

                Zisbuz laughed and shook his head, “No, but Nesma doesn’t practice any faith on the ship.”

                “Oh,” Kou said. “Does that mean I can’t?”

                “She won’t care,” he said, “as long as you don’t push it on her.”

                “I never would.”

                “It would be nice to give gifts this year,” Zisbuz said, smiling at the idea.

                “Yeah,” Kou said, her eyes bright with excitement, “I can cook, and we can sign.”

                Zisbuz laughed again, but the sound of his deep voice was cut in half with a thunder tear of a scream. They both stopped dead in their tracks, and they both started to look for the source of the terrific cries. Zisbuz's hand dropped to the hilt of his pistols on both his hips. Kou was already holding her weapon and the handler of a knife as well.

                The scream boomed from an alleyway, making them spring into a dead run heading for the cry. They blasted out of the alleyway to a tiny park with a few trees trying to shield some benches from the rain. The benches were dripping with rainwater, except for the red leaking from the body cut in half.

                Zisbuz jerked out his weapons, not pointing at anything but looking for the other half of the body. Before anyone said anything, the head of a woman came flying out of the darkness, rolling to the boots of Zisbuz.

                “I think I’m going to be sick,” Kou said, stepping back a bit.

                Zisbuz waited for something to happen, but everything seemed odd still in the night. The rain crashed on the leaves and the stone around them. The blood from the body and the head pool is pushed away by the rain.

                He waited.

                And then something moved, tall and big with deep green eyes almost glowing like a starship engine, stepped out from behind the tree. It was a monster, nothing more than pure rage and hate.