LER/ The visitor - fiction story

LER

If Elissa was going to kill Cornel, this would be it. Isolated in a wood cabin in southeast Limousin, the cult leader went underground with only a handful of followers. The governments of Europe and the world ripped their countries apart in their search for Cornelius Smith, Grand Spiritual Leader of the cult, LER, or, Last Epiphanic Religion. Not only for orchestrating assassinations of public figures, torture or money laundering. Above all, they wanted answers.

Two days before, hundreds of LER followers gathered in major cities across the globe. At precisely seven o’clock at night, they doused themselves in gasoline and committed mass, self-immolation. The gruesome acts were broadcast live on television and social media. It was an act of existential defiance the world had never seen before.

Caught wholly unprepared, police attempted to intervene. They couldn't save a single one. For the moment the flames caught, the followers, to the last woman, disappeared. They left behind only the smell of gasoline.

Supernatural events are best left to imagination or nightmares. Now, the whole world had borne witness to something beyond its understanding.

Elissa got the word from her CIA handler.

Neutralize the target.

Could she? Even if she got past the others, there were questions. Questions that never should be spoken out loud, gnawing at her insides like a tumor with teeth.

They sat around the table, each of them armed with a forty-five at the hip per LER security-protocol. Cornelius relaxed, almost asleep, his long Jesus hair curling around his shoulders. O.M.’s arms folded like a meditating gorilla. Denis Labbat, a man Elissa’d never met, stared at the old wooden clock on the wall. He hadn’t moved, not even blinked since she’d entered the room. If his chest hadn’t heaved as evidence of his breathing, she’d assume the skeletal dark-haired Frenchman was dead. Margeux Blanc, LER’s Paris head, sat restless. Unable to stop her leg from shaking, the woman’s fingers rattled on the wooden table. She glanced at the clock, at Denis and Cornelius, then the windows and back to the clock. Elissa followed her gaze. Outside, the noon sun burned down the gorgeous French woodlands of Limousin.

Cornelius leaned forward. “Our five minutes of silence has reached its climax.” He said.

Denis gazed at the clock.

“What thoughts have you conceived in that time?” Cornelius asked. Elissa met his gaze. Cornel’s eyes were a radiant blue. “Margeux?” he said, not breaking his stare at Elissa. “What do you fear?”

“N-nothing,” Margeux replied. “I’m ready, Grand Spiritual Leader.”

“And you, O.M.?”

The bodyguard grunted.

“Denis?” he asked.

“Almost time.”

“And, you, Elissa? Are you prepared for the meeting?”

The clock struck noon.

The room went dark.

Elissa turned to the windows. Black. Sunless. A void.

Dennis, his bones rattling from his first movement, lit a candle.

Someone knocked at the door like a funeral drum.

“Elissa,” Cornelius said. “Why don’t you greet our visitor?”

I must be drugged, she thought. His eyes are red.

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The visitor

Only Elissa's iron training allowed her not to lose her temper. She had always been an extremely rational person, but she was struggling to find a logical explanation for what happened around the members of LER.

If she really had been drugged, she could not remember when and how: she had not drunk or eaten anything strange, had never fallen asleep for a moment since she was in the presence of Cornelius or the others. After all, supposing the opposite meant that her cover was burned. However, there had to be a logical explanation for the sudden darkness and other hallucinations.

She feverishly thought of all this, as she moved cautiously towards the door, guided only by her visual memory and by the direction of the gloomy knock. Better to act naturally, without taking for granted that they had discovered her.

She found the handle feeling in the dark, and turned it, pulling the door toward her. A shiver ran from her face to her whole body like an electric shock, despite the training. In the leaden darkness of the outside, there was a phosphorescent human outline, without features, two-dimensional like a silhouette attached to a collage. The space delimited by the shape shone with changing colors that Elissa's eyes had never seen before, impossible to define.

The CIA agent barely restrained a cry as the guest grew in her field of vision, or rather approached, without a sound, and entered the room. Elissa would have sworn that the being was looking at her, even without having eyes or a defined face. Not only that, she felt scrutinized in the deepest recesses of the soul, she felt violated and stripped of all her secrets. She knew he knew. Everything.

Annihilated, she curled up on herself like a dry leaf, while the visitor filled the dark space and obscured the flickering candle.

With a small part of herself, a remnant of residual lucidity, an automatic reflection of her psychological preparation for dangerous situations, she perceived the others holding their breath, and almost sucking it out of the atmosphere. Cornelius Smith, in a choked voice, murmured: "Master ..."

SOMEONE IN THIS ROOM IS NOT WHO SAYS TO BE

The phrase was not formulated by a voice, nor heard by ears, it was formed in the minds of those present as if it had always been there and had come to the surface at that time. Elissa felt lost. Cornelius's red eyes darted like glowing embers in the dark, in contrast to the indescribable window of colors that was the visitor.

SOMEONE THINK OF HIDING BETWEEN US FOREVER, THINK THAT WE WOULD NEVER REALIZED THE TRUTH

With shaking hands, Elissa pulled out the .45. She was retching, she did not know if shooting would be useful, but her only conscious thought was I don’t want to die.

She heard the voice of Margeux Blanc moan like a wounded beast. In the otherworldly light of the visitor, she saw the woman burst into a nervous cry. She heard Denis Labbat's joints snap fast and the sound of the pistol carts being pulled back.

The shots ripped through the air of the small room. Elissa threw herself to the ground.

Something made her look up, just as Cornelius's eyes of fire stood out on her. She saw the outstretched arm, the barrel of the weapon pointed at her. Instinctively, she rolled to the right and fired. Cornelius collapsed, his eyes went out.

Elissa stood up and looked around: at the strange light of the visitor, she was the only human still alive.

VERY WELL, THE SACRIFICE IS COMPLETED. THE NEW WORLD BEGINS

Elissa felt faint. At that moment, the light returned and nothing was as before.

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This is my entry for the week #16 of the awesome contest held by @f3nix: Finish the Story, and earn Steem Basic Income Shares.
More informations about the contest may be found here: https://steemit.com/contest/@f3nix/finish-the-story-contest-week-16

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This week, the first part of the story is written by @dirge

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Main image by myself

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Thank you for reading!

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