The Silence was like glass—cold, thin, and at the edge of shattering. It was akin to the silence before the storm, just before all hell let loose.
The silence was so loud that they all could hear their blood rushing through their ears, the pressure so palpable that they couldn't breathe freely.
They shrank under the stares; ten eyes, twenty, maybe more. All of them were lifeless, bloodshot swirling with true darkness and burning with blood lust.
The clairsentience quad had it worse. Cordis, Priscilla, Arden, and Malik felt something ancient and evil press against their skin.
Gritting their teeth, they fought through the dark emotions, anger beyond measure that threatened to override their senses.
Being noncombative, they fell farther in the formation. Seven didn't even realize when it formed.
They grounded the battlefield and were trusted with the most important job in the brewing fight:
Preventing mental and emotional attacks, steeling their friend's resolve, and a bit of healing—as much as their essence allowed.
"Fall back?!" Priscilla said, her voice loud and stoic.
Thankful and yet shaken at the fact the attack hasn't proceeded.
Unpredictable!
"We're surrounded..." Zed said almost in a whisper, adjusting her headset. Her calculative eyes swept the battlefield as she matched with a Claircognizant.
With uncanny timing, the students who hadn't made a move screamed. All of them!
The phantom worshippers!
Unholy, unified, and grating against humanity itself. A gruesome mix of pain and praise, a sonic attack closing on them.
They sensed it coming and putting a foot forward; Clairaudience - Zed, Dice, Aurora, and Seth simultaneously threw their hands in the air.
A sigil stood in place, burning like a flame. It's heat purifying to their soul but scorching to puppets.
Bringing it forth like a brutal dance, rehearsed, each chanted:
"Saday!"
"Athanathos!"
"Sabaoth!"
"Micheal!"
Then, in unison, they exclaimed: *"Saday, Omnipotens, hunc locum Claude, Gratia sancta nos circumda, laude!"*
The flame intensified, destroying everything evil in its path. It didn't just dissipate the sonic attack, an amber dome was established. Swirling with energy, the team struggled a bit to stabilize it.
It was nothing like they have done before but the same could be said for the sudden attack.
That was a Divine protection chant of St. Micheal. It might be a little more than a burden for them at their stage and it was certain they wouldn't be able to hold it up for a longer time.
But it was a large-scale battle, and time was of the essence.
No one fought a spiritual battle like Micheal did, so this wasn't bound to take long if they all played their part well.
'Who is like God?!' a spiritual Dome, as it was called traditionally, was established.
The clairsentient didn't waste their time too. Sensing the insidious attack from behind, they turned and threw their hands in the air:
*"Athanathos, flamma aeterna,
Custodi animam in luce superna."*
The bark exhaled—literally exhaled, a corrupt pollen set thrown at them, unfazed they faced it unhurt.
The four corners of the tree were surrounded. Each region is secured by each ability user. A clairsentient holding the back and stabilizing the field emotionally.
A clairaudience, drawing insight with their hearing to detect movements, illusions, and shifts before they manifest.
The Claircognizance: Lexis, Phil, Solomon, and Ama.:
They brought the battle!
*"Sabaoth, Domine Exercituum,
Tenebrae non tangant hunc locum!"*
As if a shot of adrenaline were administered to the enemies, they lurched forward—sprinting, rolling, crawling, and leaping in all inhumanly possible ways.
The claircognizants and clairaudiences didn't disappoint, returning their energy...they engaged.
Like seasoned fighters, they met their opponents with brute force, protecting themselves from mindless slashes and infected claws.
Clairsentient prayed, dealing with whoever or whatever was mad enough to make it past the formation.
They pushed back, beating, punching, kicking, hoping with the spells aiding, exhaustion would kick in, permitting them to carry out a mass exorcism.
But the taken (possessed) were as they came. They felt no pain nor reasoned with logic. After having extended their energy in setting up the dome, they were increasingly becoming a force to be reckoned with.
"They keep getting up!" Lexis said, ducking under a demented attack to the head, grabbing a hold of the swinging forearm before it could counterattack.
Leaping to the side and out of attack range. She used The taken as a sturdy pole, kicked the few that surrounded her, and was careful not to break his arm; she twisted it and tossed him to another group that was savagely approaching her with a kick.
Staggering back, Cordis shouted:
"His range of influence has widened! More students are on the way!"
With a grim look as a punch landed to his gut, Seven relentlessly caught the other attack aimed at his face, and with a palm, sent The Taken back.
*Whoosh!*
A Taken flew past him, landing gracelessly in a sprawl. A familiar scent of ozone hit his nose and a red glimmer at the edge of his eye earned a softened expression from him.
'Zeph, try not to kill the students..." He jumped, throwing a flying kick, and almost stumbled when he landed, barely missing A Taken sprawled on the ground.
"He's not hunting, he's recruiting!" He managed to say, frowning as he felt left out not allowed to use his other abilities.
These people were good, he admitted. He wouldn't be able to beat any of them in a battle of abilities.
Being trusted with four made growing hard so when he looked around to see how his friends were faring;
He saw experienced people in their line of expertise, holding it together more than he could ever do.
"Do you wish to die dramatically this time?!" Zephyr snapped towards his ear. An invisible force shoved him backward into the final formation. He rejoined the last attempt, a little lost on the actual plan.
Half of the group fell back to complete the spell, the rest bit their lips and had to endure the merciless attacks, blood oozing from the hits their deranged opponents managed to get in.
With a sense of urgency, they chanted:
*"Michael, gladius lucis ardentis,
Disrumpe umbras, extingue nocentes!"*
With half of the attackers dropping to the floor, their fingers scrapping against their ears to shut them from the spells, the crew continued:
*"Per vocem aeternam et verbum sacrum,
Non sit locus immundo spiritu."*
The rest of The taken kissed the floor, wriggling as the entity inside them made the last struggle.
He was losing grip and soon he would be sucked away into the tree.
Seven, however, couldn't be more disappointed in himself. The chant was unknown to him, and he had no choice but to stand and watch the others do the work.
"On my soul...!" He tightened his grip around his bracelet.
*"Athanathos, Sabaoth, Michael, Saday—
Invocamus Vos. Pereat malum hodie!"*
And everything went still.
One by one, they joined their fellow students in their lifeless sprawl. Their chests were heaving, betraying their fatigue.
Seconds turned to minutes and minutes to an hour, before they moved.
No one said anything to the other, sharing the understanding that they needed to leave before the students saw them. They were not incognito, and nothing they said would suffice as a good explanation.
Dragging their feet on the floor, a loud laughter echoed through the dim evening.
The garbage can lady. They recognized her and they all stopped in their tracks, too tired to even take a stance:
She continued laughing:
Not like a possessed girl. No. She laughed like a boy. A teenage boy.
A voice that didn't belong to her mouth echoed:
"You buried me… beneath my own dream. You danced on my bones… Now watch how I dance in yours."
And like that, the lady fell limp once more.
The group exchanged glances, numb after a fight that had a huge chunk of their humanity chipped away.
Too tired to get scared, to complain, to ask questions...
Too tired for anything!
They turned back, the last rays of the sun dispersing into the horizon. Their figures were welcomed by the still night.