The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

His departure caused deep loss in my heart. Anger built up. It wasn't directed at him. Brict nearly gave his life for me, twice. Who could fault a man willing to die for you?



My heart ached at the thought that I might never see him again. It made me wonder what it took to keep a relationship going in spite of near-death experiences shared. This thought made me question, what mission was more important than me, Angela, his love?



Brict would risk death by staying in physical form? How? Why? What was so safe about being a perpetual spirit?



My Brict, was gone again. anyway.



All of this thought went through my head as I embraced Kashira, who I now appreciated and loved more than ever.



Still, she had tendencies new to me. And they shocked me. Why she wanted me to die was understandable I guess. Jealousy can cause such a reaction. However, it made me want to grow eyes on the back of my head, just in case.



Eerie silence filled our consolation embrace over our mutual loss of Brict; I decided to check on my parents.



The room was empty! How?



The only way in or out was the doorway that Kashira and I filled when we embraced in tears when Brict left.



Kashira had gone to the restroom to clean herself up as I discovered this empty room. Brict didn't say he was taking my parents with him. My parents seemed to be recovering from their severe dehydrated and malnourished state. Their wounds were on their hands and face, not their vital organs. My mind swirled.



Without warning Kashira rushed in with a bucket of water to clean my parents even more and instead bumped into me. Water splashed everywhere as we collided and fell.



Rather than laughing at our clumsiness, new shock emerged. Not only were my parents gone from an enclosed room without explanation, but the water had revealed a message on the floor.



It was scattered with the water. Unsure of its message, I held Kashira back.



"Hold on! Let the water settle, letters are forming," I exclaimed.



All Kashira could do was gasp incredulously at the unexplained sight before her.



We waited impatiently for the words to form.



The letters "b" and "t" showed up, then the word "destroy"



Then I felt a thud in my belly. Instinctually I knew.



Destroy Brict, was what the floor revealed



Brict had not allowed any means of communication. Had Brict really recovered from Kashira's earlier deathblow? Or was his spirit form the strongest version of him as he pressed on with his mission?



Angela's questions overwhelmed her as she held her face in pure panic for Brict. Kashira simply screamed in terror and was spouting questions off that Angela ignored because of her own confused pain.



As Angela's face was down in her hands and Kashira's verbal panic overtook her, neither one of them sensed the dark invisible form hovering over them...



It was laughing...and laughing.



At their pain and panic.

---



When the clouds joined in monstrous clusters on that cold frigid morning, Brict knew that something would be destroyed.



His instincts informed him well regularly.



Whether he paid any attention was another matter.



He rolled over thinking to himself, why today, why now?



The sores on his shoulder blades had not healed. When his wings were chopped off at the root, it nearly destroyed him. It would take time to grow them back. Being a vampire meant quick healing. But for limb removals, this was not true. He knew laying low was vital to his survival.



And being in a death-like sleep was his best option.



I feel so hungry. Must feast, soon. he thought.

Or his sleep would have to rival the hibernation of a bear throughout winter for proper healing without feasting. His present mission would suffer. And imminent destruction from the Blackened Demon Overlord Alliance would be swift and mighty.Being in one place would make him an easy target.



However, presuming success in being protected from being in a secluded place undetected, he would summon his demons for additional protection.



He presumed this location was as good as any.

But would being half-awake and injured conjure anything but silence from his demon protectors? he wondered privately.



The Blackened Demon Overlord was extremely powerful, and extremely vigilant in finding his enemies. Brict was one of those enemies.



Or was being alone like this part of the curse that Brict was to undo if there was no war to be had? What if this war was false? Who would play such a cruel joke?



Getting a blank stare from the wall, all Brict could do was remain emotionally neutral.



The mission he believed was real had stalled badly. He had managed to venture out in a staunch search of the White Vampire Clan. So far he hadn't found anyone.



Interrupting this mission at the start were groups of Blackened Demon Vampires, who had rained spears intending death upon him. This was a shred of a memory that flooded his mind.



The chronology of these past events was messed up in his head. After gathering a pittance of psychic energy with specialized breathing, his memory cleared a little. He relaxed, regained some self-trust in remembering and then tried to put events together in order.



Brict remembered his dear friend, Bastior, the mighty wolf. Yes, this path stumped the beginning of my mission, he pondered.



While concentrating on the initial thrust of his mission, Brict had befriended Bastion, the mighty wolf, after witnessing an intense battle between Bastior and a powerful human foe, who still remained unknown.



After Bastior had won, Brict made a silent, unspoken pact with Bastior to face deadly creatures, human and otherwise, in an effort to weed out the white vampire clan; this clan was meant to be collected for an epic battle against the Blackened Demon Overlord Vampire Alliance.



Bastior bought in as partner because of Brict`s powerful protective spiritual inclinations. Bastior would need that kind of protection when he lept at his helpless foes. They spoke about how to approach and what their strategy was.



Days before the two could make headway on such a mission, Bastior took to his instincts and coupled with a female wolf. Soon after, a child wolf was borne. Family came first now.



Being separated from them at that time was a bit surprising to Brict. And it gave him the sense that his mission might have to be a solo venture. So he bid farewell and flew off, with head down and wondering if any alliance was worth it.



During Brict's renewed search of the white vampire clan, the wind messaged that Bastior's wife and child were missing.



Obligation joined Brict and Bastior path's again.

In an intense extensive effort, they took to finding Bastior's family.



The blackened demon vampire clan put forth an incredible deterrent and defense. Large black demon vampire groups allowed them a particular strength to overwhelm their prey. When separated in the least, they were vulnerable to attack. They were sent from the Darkened Demon Overlord Alliance.



Why the Dark Demon Overlord would lead such weak pawns in attack was beyond Brict. It was almost too easy to defeat the blackened demon vampires. Eliminating them was laughable.



Bastior and Brict would whip through their weakened enemies with swift, efficient effort.



Then the unknown weapon emerged against them. the silent poison spear. When these spears were thrown, they were thrown by the dozens. And they were delivered with lightning speed.



Brict had rediscovered his invisbility skill just in time to evade the spears well enough.



And this allowed Bastior's family to be discovered in a far thicket of forest. They were afraid, malnourished and huddled, but unharmed.



But the victory of discovery was short-lived as a poison spear found Bastior.



Brict could not tear himself into two to spare both Bastior and his family. Brict felt distinct sadness and loss for his seemingly impervious friend.



While preserving Bastiors family safety in the confines of a nearby mountain range, Brict found enemy with a new powerful foe. It was an unseen enemy, one that could tear limbs away from any living creature. How he knew this was pure intuition.



It was during the search of food for Bastior`s family that Brict found himself smashed horribly against a tree, wingless and bloodied.



Why had he not been killed outright? Brict held in grateful wonder.



His repose in an apartment far away from Bastior`s family was as sudden as Bastior`s sad memory on this quiet morning. That`s what brought him back, the storm noise.



Thunder suddenly rattled the earth in powerful submission as he awoke from this dream-state that was allowing his memory to be accurate.



As his eyes opened wide, his surroundings spawned new questions.



How the hell did he get here? Where was here?

Then, in what seemed like a another dream, the unthinkable occurred.



The walls around Brict started to bleed.



And the bed was bending to crush Brict. The wrong way!



Brict realized too late that he was paralyzed!



Being bent from head to foot in reverse was a new kind of pain.



The pain seared through his spine as crackling was heard....and felt.



In a moment of panic rage, invisibility returned.

Slipping free was instant. Flying though was not.



With shoulder blades wracked with open wounds, flying was not possible and going here to anywhere meant walking or running . He had to be visible to do that.



Being visible meant pain and being destroyed. His energy to maintain invisibility was weakening, fast.



Brict decided from this point on never to take physical form while sleeping... if there was another time.



Being alone and behind enclosed walls did not mean being unobserved. However, his invisibility was alternating with being in physical form because he was weakened more.



His energy loss and pain was being manipulated somehow and he was being driven insane.



His panicked mind was searching for a way out.



A new hidden place was necessary. But to where? He was trapped!



His unidentified foe managed to find him and decided to not make itself evident and play games with him.



He was visbile...then invisible...then visible...then invisible. He was being toyed with.



The pain subsided with flashes of invisibility, during which memories flooded his pain-stricken brain.



Such bad timing.



Maybe.



During his flashes of invisibilty, he remembered a long lost experience from the16th century in his previous life.



A key decision he made then was what he needed to do to escape.



There was his answer!



But it was too late.



His weakened state made him visible again, which made the pain even more intense.



A flash blew his ears out and blinding light smashed him again!



He blacked out.



His lastsplit-second thought was, "i'm dead.....again?"



---



Days passed. Or was it hours...it was still morning, he thought.



Then Brict awoke, there was a pause in this torture game.



Who wanted his destruction so badly?



Before his beleaguered mind let him ask questions and demand answers, he felt his back snap and then, Brict blacked out.



Someone or something was waiting for him to be aware of this torture and then to smash him to blackness.



In the mess of light and shadows his consciousness swirled with visions of lives past.



Pain evaporated.



Death seemed so transient. This was survival dreaming, he supposed.



Instead of applying hyper-aware concern over his broken body, he paused in spirit form to figure out this new foe who broke him.



Diabolical whispers meshed with the cold air and came and went like a breeze. They offered no hints, just question upon question, like some cruel riddle that never gets solved. Someone was playing with his mind. And he was getting incensed...



He had to find out who was doing this to him, fast!



He then let his mind settle. He recounted the women he loved in centuries past. And with that memory was the familiar struggle to lovingly connect; moreover to stay connected.



Love seemed to elude Brict and if it came, it came in the form of meshing with someone wonderfully...then leaving, and loving from afar.



Why were relationships doomed to fail so often? What is it with love? Is it all that it is cracked up to be? Was a female spirit casting her rage upon him for his lack of love skills?



Brict was thinking alternatively now.



No, it did not involve loving a man. That wasn't Brict. Outside of brotherly love and respect, this part of him was defined clearly without question. He appreciated this truth. His male counter-parts were few. No one came to mind in his past.



However, he knew deep down that women dumb-founded him.



He quickly resolved that we're all imperfect creatures at heart, he thought. Just leave the wondering about this whole thing alone, he demanded of himself.



A purpose greater than love relationships was mandatory. He wondered if anybody could add quality to his purpose. He doubted it because he knew his own nature. And to know your own nature is to understand others. No one ever lives up to high expectations, ever.



He paused and felt the pain of disappointment; It was more in himself than anything else.



All of this was thought in a scant few seconds before slipping back into physical form.



...then a confused state of strength took over and he became invisible with full sensory vulnerability. He wasn't sure how all of this was happening.



Then, a voice resounded. It was loud and unintelligible.



He remembered listening intently...and a hot incinerating feeling melting his spirit down.

He screamed out for help.



He wasn't sure if he made noise enough with his plea.



It would be a miracle if anyone heard him.

____



HOURS EARLIER IN THE SAME NEIGHBORHOOD THAT SAME MORNING



On this cold frigid morning he walked the city streets in a search for a quick way home. What Ridge saw along the way shocked him. Five men were beating up another man, stabbing him relentlessly, ignoring all who might see. The surroundings suggested this might be a typical incident, as no sirens no public alarm were heard on this busy road. The ugly feeling that murder was a daily event here made his insides stir and knot. This was not the place to be. Ridge had to get out now. He might be next. Huddling up within his coat with nothing showing but his eyes, he ran. And ran and ran.



Escaping to his 5th floor room, Ridge sat clearing his head with near yelps of relief and terror. He didn't know what to do. That poor soul who got perforated at the bad end of a blade might never get a second chance at anything, even if he survived.



Ridge's tears were rare, but when they fell, they fell like bricks off an imploded building. These tears were not manly, he thought briefly. Bunk, he thought. Veteran soldiers always cried for the fallen. The vulnerability he felt was what he despised the most. Yes, that was it. Combine that with helplessness and Ridge suddenly felt like he was a terrified 10 year old.



Clearing his tears, he manned up, sort of. Finding the bathroom, instead of the usual, his insides let loose and the disgust purged from his mouth.



Exhausted from shock, and his body registering revulsion, he slept on the cold tile of his downtown condominium. When he awoke, the world swirled around him.



Is this what a hangover feels like? He asked himself. Ridge did not drink. That part of him boldfaced the harsh reality that people wouldn't hang out with because of that alone. Otherwise, he was well liked. But that did not matter right now.



His headache and body reaction was overwhelming him. And somewhere between the thudding of his heart and head, he thanked himself for not being able to stomach killing of any kind.



But if he were to remain in this town he would have to grow thick skin. How does the military prepare someone to kill? By firing a weapon alone? He privately hoped not. Someone had to be mentally and emotionally prepared somehow.The toll on one's whole being is too traumatic.



Ridge paused and privately prayed in humbled thanks to all of the fallen in all years past. Or he wouldn't have an existence.



Collecting himself, an insistent angry knock on the door shook this poignant moment.



Police? Superintendant?



He really hoped not as he could not concentrate to talk about anything. Huddled in a corner of his bathroom, he just held his knees to his chest while seated and waited for the potential visitor to give up and leave.



As he waited, his mind blanked. Then, silence.

His breathing slowed. His eyes closed to reveal while streams of light behind his eyelids.



Was this meditation? He asked to the bathroom mirror that flickered with vibration from a closing hallway door.



If it is, it's better than TV he chuckled to himself.



After all the mirror seemed to move when he asked.



A tension breaking moment at last.



He learned to be a self-consoler from an early age. Ridge remembered his parents constantly referring to him as the "mellow" one, who was easily amused.



God rest their souls. Whatever they thought when they were alive, it was good enough to get him where he was now in his life.



Then, old grief hit him.



Sure, seeing a murder was no easy thing to just "pass up". But now that he remembered his parents, old tears formed. They weren't cry your eyes out tears. Just the deep ones; the ones that seemed to be squeezed from an already lonely dry soul. Steady streaming tears stained as they spread on him without warmth, like small blankets with holes. His face remained stoic from exhaustion.



He remained that way for what seemed like hours.



Suddenly, a blast of noise smashed him out of his daze!



A rock with a bullet was tied together had been thrown into his window.



It rolled toward him with deep intimidation and on the flat-side of the rock, it said "DIE!"



Instead of defiance his emotions instantly shut down.



He had made a decision. A decision so powerful it would affect just about everything. But he had no indication how far reaching it would go.



His shutdown had caused an amazing change of intent. He stood tall.



He took himself straight to the spot of the crime.



Although he was the bystander, he stood in staunch protest about the murder that occurred here just hours ago. The murder no one cared about.



He screamed from the depths of his being that sent a flock of birds in an unintended direction.



His scream was a centuries old protest to all known and unknown historical murders and a vocal tribute to all who were forgotten.



His deep emotions had caused something of mammoth proportion.



He had not realized he was flying.



In a silent open-eyed shock, he flew into his 5th floor condominium...through the brick wall!



And the discovery of his life chilled his soul.



He was staring at his own dead body.



How did he die? No answers presented anything obvious.



In a silent moment of calm Ridge pondered this situation a bit more.



He really would not miss his life as there hadn't been much to it. A 60 hour job to pay for shelter way too big for him and awful bills just for upkeep was nothing to miss. This place had entertained no one for far too long. And although being told how "hot" he was, nary the type of female he preferred looked twice at him. What did matter anyway? He was dead and no one would miss him anyhow.



He then registered a new realization. Re-entry!



Now that had potential.



Taking different forms when needed would be advantageous.



But he had no purpose to do it.



His curiosity took him over anyway. He mustered supreme concentration on reentry and flew into his own dead body.



While inside he tried to make the eyelids move.



Nothing happened.



This would be proving to be a challenge.



Would his arms animate?



No.



Legs?



No.



Then a loud angry knock on the front door broke his concentration.



The door was smashed open!



The five thugs had tracked him down.



They rushed in ruining the furnishings.



Then all of them stopped cold seeing their intended victim ready down.



They started to kick the body.



Ridge was overhead observing in spirit form and was waiting for the right moment to lash out.



As expletives flew, the rock with the bullet and death command written upon it raised off the floor. Ridge was holding it. None of them sensed it.



That rock hit each idiot one by one square in the medulla oblongata and incapacitated each from the ability to breath well.



One by one they fell in a slump.



No sound emerged from each thug.



Dead silence ruled the moment.



Ridge felt indifferent to this new power, for it had served its purpose for the moment.



But he now faced a moral dilemma. Did these evil jerks deserve life?



He had simply knocked them out.



He had no other plan.



Wait a second, he commanded himself.



Reanimation was still an option. These thugs had simply kicked on his dead body.



He attempted to get into his body to affect movement and beat up on these idiots.



Now there was a reason to reanimate and these thugs would see his vengeful side soon enough.



However, getting that body of his own to move was something of a challenge.



Try as he might, his effort fell flat.



Only stopped for the moment, Ridge's mind cleared itself.



Maybe, the body has to have some life to it and no consciousness.



The gang of thugs were still out cold.



He considered re-entry of a different kind.



He entered one thugs mind. Inside he despised what he found, no compassion for anyone or anything. Ridge decided to play. He woke up this thug and as he did it in spirit form, he squeezed that thug's heart. Ridge wasn't trying to hurt him, just scare this disgusting soul so badly that he would question every choice he would ever make again.



The thug awoke and was gasping wildly gripping his throat, chest , etc



Ridge rather enjoyed this.



And then after about a minute, he vacated the thugs body. Won't see him ever again, Ridge thought.



Then, one by one, he did something of the same to each. Each ran out terrified.



Ridge, in spirit form, then realized that he couldn't be seen. Another benefit exposed.



Still troubled even after a psuedo-revenge of sorts, Ridge settled and took inventory of himself and his personal changes.



Before Ridge could get clear and settled, one thug suddenly returned to retrieve the rock and bullet. Ridge decided to lock the door tight and lock down windows so this one would not get away.



It was time to discover what other powers Ridge had spawned.



He knew that getting within someone's mind meant seeing their thoughts. It was a matter of intent to get inside and another to decide what to do when inside. This was evident.



Now, this thug seemed to be the leader, as he had remembered to cover his tracks by coming back for the rock and bullet.



What was behind this attack?



Into this thug's brain he went, in spite of this thug's verbal protesting and panic.



Before entry, Ridge found he could cast a shield of soundlessness around them as no one responded to the thug's rant for help.



Well, then, christmas has come early this year Ridge quipped to himself.



Once inside this man`s head, Ridge found pain.

There was a deep sorrow of sorts that was playing out as murder against the innocent.

This was understandable but not condoned.



Ridge went deeper into this man`s consciousness.



Loss...extreme loss was in this man`s life.

And he was responding to his base instincts.

This was sad and weak but a common reaction.



Ridge could stand it no longer as details emerged about this thug that would horrify even the likes of a dictator. So Ridge vacated this thug`s head.



Ridge maintained his invisibility outside of this thug`s body. The protesting continued from this evil thug leader but none could hear him.



Ridge quietly observed and waited for exhaustion and sleep for this leader of pain.



It was like waiting for a two year old to finish his ranting and sleep off.



After 2 hours, the thug had caused himself deep fatigue. Silence ensued.



Now Ridge could think.



To what end or means could these abilities afford him.



Then he heard a voice.



``Help`` was all it said.



Prompted, Ridge leaped and flew east after locking down that room, forever encasing this thug leader. This thug was a perfect clinic subject to test his powers. Ridge would return.



Some internal guidance lead him straight to a nearby apartment where a man was writhing in pain and swearing that he was on fire.



Without second a thought, Ridge went into this man`s consciousness. The pain was evident. As to why or who was causing it was unclear.



Within a moment, the threat passed and a broken man remained on the floor, grunting in pain.



Whatever the threat, Ridge either destroyed it or paused it`s assault.



The man writhing could not verbalize anything clearly.



Ridge managed to ease this man into a bed and settled him with the warmth from blankets and pillows. Water had been given. Soon, there was sleep.



Ridge had so much to absorb, he wasn`t sure what to make of all that had happened.



His observance of a murder, dealing with his own death, attacking guilty thugs, and entering another`s mind, flying. Added to that was providing a protective shield, going invisible, going internal to a person`s body and affecting organ functions. This was quite overwhelming to assimilate.



And now this, a man calling for help, hearing this plea from afar and saving him from a force unseen. All of it was proving to be an incredible stress.



Ridge`s over-wrought mind went simple on him.



Was Ridge himself a good guy or a bad guy?



Ridge decided to inspect this man`s unconscious self.



There were open wounds on the shoulder blades. The spine looked twisted, maybe broken.

So much new information and no answers were now stunting an effort to really concentrate on any solution.



Waiting for this unknown pained soul to awake and get answers was the tough part.



Ridge then decided to welcome the pause in action and mentally take a breath.



``My name is Brict`` broke the silence.

----



Ridge's head snapped to the left in attention and patiently waited for Brict to catch his breath and continue on.



Brict simply said, `thank you.` and fell off to sleep.



Ridge paused and rubbed his chin in frustration as Brict thanked him for helping.



What was Ridge supposed to do now, he thought.



Grateful for a pause in the action of this day, he decided Brict had the right idea. So Ridge himself went to sleep. When he awoke a few hours later, a thought hit him.



Ridge was visualizing entering Brict`s mind. So he decided to go into Brict's consciousness. In there, he found a whole storyline filled with love, anger and near tragedy. Brict was a hero of sorts. This one is worth saving Ridge held.



So Ridge, istill in spirit form, entered Brict`s body.



While there, he decided to test his new abilities.



Ridge knew he could punish internal organs while he was in spirit form, but could Ridge heal others too?



That was the question to answer.



He aimed for Brict`s distorted spine first. A healthy spine would allow the rest of Brict's body heal faster, Ridge reasoned.



Bit by bit, Brict`s spine was healed to near-perfection. The surprising thing was that Ridge`s enegy had not been exhausted during this healing effort. That surprised him.



He decided that he was a good guy. Way to go, Ridge told himself.



Ridge felt that his effort was good enough as Brict would probably awake soon and need physical assistance.



Departing Brict`s inner world, Ridge took solace and comfort from knowing his powers weren`t all about violence and revenge. Ridge stood and stared out the window as afternoon became evening.



Stirring occurred. Moans of pain grew. Ridge went to work by easing Brict awake. A new spine was now working, but Brict had to move slowly to re-adjust. Brict then sat up slowly and realized how healed he was.



Confused, he asked, "How long did I sleep?"



Ridge replied. "Only a few hours."



Brict started to feel his healed spine length-wise.



He sat there amazed that he healed that fast.



Brict had no idea Ridge had helped.



Ridge kept quiet for the moment and let Brict understand his situation.



"Were you here as I slept?" Brict asked Ridge insistently.



Ridge nodded.



Brict then sat dumb-founded, unsure of what had happened during his sleep.



Ridge did not offer any information. He knew Brict was recovering from an internal battle. Ridge had to be sure this man was together enough to have a serious discussion on recent events of the last day and a half.



Ridge managed to find soup and some other food-stuffs and allowed Brict to settle a bit more.



There had been comfortable silence between them.



Trust was building between them.



The Brict asked, "Why did you not kill me when you had the chance? Burning me was a novel way to destroy me. Torturing me to health and then destruction is a bit diabolical. Why this technique?"



Ridge could not believe what he was being accused of and stood up in defiance.



"Good riddance, asshole!" Ridge said as he walked toward the door.



As Ridge walked, Brict quickly put it together that Ridge was not an enemy.



"Wait!" Brict yelled with renewed strength. "So , if you're not trying to torture and destroy me. Then who or what is?"



Ridge held his ground, turned and sat on the nearest chair with the backing facing forward. This uncomfortable moment was accented by the symbolized barrier the chair backing served, even if it really offered no protection. He really did not know if Brict would lash out with violence or not. Either way he was ready to leave. Ridge started to sillently question his own goodwill and let Brict verbally stumble through his next questions.



Brict then realized he needed to ask something very important. Brict showed his apology on his face as he asked, "What is your name?"



"That's better. "Ridge responded with curt seriousness. And he then paused with authority.



He felt like he should light a cigarette or pipe for a sense of mysteriousness.



Instead, he said, "Ridge, the name's Ridge."



Brict then settled and took a breath.



"Sorry friend, my last interaction was with an unknown force without a face. Sounds incredible I know, but I have no other way to describe it. I assumed it was you."



"That explains a little then," Ridge said while looking away.



"So, you heard me when I called for help?" Brict asked cautiously.



"Yes, I did." Ridge admitted stoically.



"I am so confused. I have no idea what is happening here." Brict confessed.



Ridge stood up and announced dryly "I have somewhere to be and something to do. I might come back. Food is in the fridge. The oven works, I think.



Before Brict could ask another question, Ridge took off.



What Brict did not know was that Ridge was in spirit form...



Ridge had realized that he had outlasted another invisible force when he saved Brict.



Sure, Brict would remain confused and maybe that was a good thing. Ridge had to figure out how he frightened an unseen force. His powers on humanity were evident but the purpose for using those powers was unclear. Being Superman was never what he wanted to be when growing up. Battling an unseen force was petrifying him...but obssesive curiosity held him interested. Yes... interested.



To hell with being petrified, Ridge thought.



Now here's a problem worth solving.



At that same moment, a forceful wave of energy moved past his face, it was laughing...



---





Brict had been knocked out cold again by new fatigue. He could not sense the two spiritual beings in the room with him. Grumbling laughter was growing around him. Evil laughter.





---





Ridge was convinced that his thug hostage was the perpetuator of all of the supernatural occurences in the last day and a half.



Ridge decided to "settle" matters.



Upon returning to his 5th floor condominum and his hostage, he decided to make himself visible to the thug within the soundprrof barrier Ridge himself had created.



Tossing the thug around like a broken toy action figure Ridge demanded answers. The thug just yelled more expletives and swore his revenge even though his body was being broken. Ridge was incensed by the lack of cooperation and slammed his hapless victim to the floor.



Eye to eye with the thug and holding him down, Ridge had transformed into a demon spirit.



His appearance was hideous. Scalded reddened skin and bloodshot eyes accented the claws for hands.

The broken skin on his face included a full mouth of lengthy fangs that dripped excess saliva and blood.

This was all the thug saw.



Ridge had created in his mind this vision and thus made himself appear this way.



Every means of fluid and material escape from the human body was apparent as the thug was speechless and petrified.



Ridge slammed his victim to the floor, knocking him out.



This was not the enemy.



Laughter abounded around Ridge as he spun around in confusion.



The loudest whisper Ridge ever heard gave the only clue about what was happening.



"Brict.....dies....with....his...clan......"



Ridge had no real reason to save Brict. Brict was confused but he had accused Ridge of something Ridge wasn't ready to forgive yet.



Unwittingly, Ridge flew back to Brict to, at the very least, allay this invisible foe as a duo.



When arriving in a split second, Brict was sleeping again, unharmed.



Ridge had to wake him. He shook the healed sleeping one awake.



"No time to explain, we're under attack...." Ridge exclaimed quickly.



Brict stood up with any remaining strength he had.



In silent understanding, Brict took spiritual form.



He and Ridge were ready now.



Or so they thought...



Mutliple dark shadows long and wide sheared through the walls and lunged at Ridge in Brict.



There would be no proof of successful fighting like bloodletting and the death of breath.



This was a new kind of fight.



Energy clashes produced light flashes and thunderous smashing.



Both Ridge and Brict had no way to assess the effectiveness of their defense or their attack.



They were fighting blind!



----



The spirits kept swirling and laughing and took energy jabs at RIdge and Brict. Both Ridge and Brict could not defend the powerful energy against them. The worst part of this was that they were being toyed with. Neither of them could retaliate against an unseen force. However, the measure of harm against a spirit was difficult to assess. This taunting was preparation for something even more sinister than either of them could imagine. It was as if energy tendrils were plucking away at their spiritual fiber, searching for a way inward. The searching was not to destroy once inside. It was to take over their energetic direction, permanently.



Ridge was the first to suspect this as his awareness was fresher than Bricts. Ridge's defences were unusually strong for a newbie. He had managed a forcefield around him into which the energy tendrils bounced right off. That made Ridge extremely protected.



As for Brict, he decided that counteracting the targeted energy at him was best thus returning the energy backtoward his attacker. This took more energy than Brict was ready to give. Brict was losing his endurance abilities as his weakened state started to reveal breaks in his spiritual fortitude.



Trying not to yelp or make evident his struggle, Brict simply grimaced as if in pain.



Ridge paused while protected and observed Ridges' struggle. The only thing Ridge said was, "Get in here.." He was referring to the forcefield he was in. Brict wisened up and got in.



"Now what?" Ridge required.



Brict had to think fast. He owed this man his life. In a private moment of personal panic, Brict remembered his conjurgations. When they were done in private they were infinitely more powerful. But could they be effective with another present?



There was only one way to find out.



Brict did not explain anything to Ridge and went into a deep trance asking Nitrae, Radiu and Sunandam for their infinite protection



Ridge kept thinking that he saved a lunatic.



Except, that impression was about to change.



In matter of seconds thier invisible attackers shreiked incredibly and vanished.



Ridge was impressed and wanted to express his wonder. Before he could, Brict started chanting

His eyes were closed, his breathing slowed, his body firm but relaxed.



All Ridge heard was "Se He Ki....Cho Ku Rei..."



Brict kept repeating this for over an hour.



Then....silence reigned.



"What the hell was all that?" Ridge asked.



"I am bound to say nothing," Brict added.



Ridge then paused and asked, "What physical abilities do you have to fight with? Chanting does nothing for us in a battle of spirit and flesh."



"I had wings once and flew, and they gave me powerful ways of fighting." Brict continued, "but they are no longer a part of me. I am left with my spiritual powers alone now."



Ridge contemplated this.



He then said, " I will make you a deal then. I will train you with new physical fighting abilities and once I am satisfied, I will use my healing powers to spawn new wings on you, indestructable ones."



"How?" Brict demanded.



"Your spine did not fix itself when you were sleeping earlier." Ridge said and paused for effect.



"You?" Brict asked and then silently realized Ridge was telling the truth.



"What do we need to do?" Brict asked as he commited himself to Ridge's plan.