Available Darkness Season 2

the trigger, holding his weapon under the desk, ready to fire. If he could kill Jacob fast enough, the wraiths would be blinded, if not incapacitated entirely. It had been many years since he’d seen a dark magick user controlling such creatures, but he was reasonably certain with the master dead the monsters would fall or return to the In Between.
    Jacob paused five feet in front of Duncan’s desk, finally meeting his eyes. “Tell me, Mr. Alderman, how many Pioneers are left?”
    “I don’t know. Why?”
    Jacob smiled, “Because I’m going to give them a choice. A choice to be on history’s right side. The same choice I’m about to give you.”
    Duncan’s finger tightened on the trigger. Jacob took a step closer.
    “What choice is that?”
    “I’m going to find the vessels, Mr. Alderman, and you will definitely not want to be in my way once I do.” He smiled, then looked from left to right, grazing his eyes against the two wraiths and teasing the rest of his insanity. “There are only two sides in a war, Mr. Alderman. You must decide, right now in this room, are you with us or against us?”
    “That depends on what exactly you have planned.”
    “I think you know what we have planned,” Jacob smiled, as if Duncan were silly. “We’re going to finish the job you and your Pioneers were sent here to do. We’re going to take this world.”
    Duncan narrowed his eyes. “And what gives you the right?”
    “Right?” Jacob snapped, still rooted to his spot. “What gives me the right? Nobody gives me the right, Mr. Alderman! I take it! I should be asking what gives you and your kind the right? The right to imprison and murder ours? To force us into ghettos? To keep an entire race banished to one sector of a world like caged animals? Oh, yes, I’ve seen what your kind has done to mine in Otherworld. You’re no different from the humans here — a few controlling the many; strong devouring weak. Well, Mr. Alderman, you can’t fight evolution. Our species will shatter your shackles. We will take this world as we should, then do to you and yours what you’ve done to us for millennia.”
    Jacob finally moved, almost drifting from in front of the doorway to Duncan’s desk, whispering death and promises on his way.
    “I’m giving you a chance, Mr. Alderman, an opportunity to find yourself on the winning side. A chance to be one of us.”
    “Never!” Duncan shouted as he raised his pistol, aimed it at Jacob, and pulled the trigger.
    Duncan was too late.
    One of the wraiths jumped between the men, took the bullet in its blackened chest, and screeched like a cat torn in half as it stained the carpet.
    Before Duncan could fire again, Jacob was in front of him, one hand on Duncan’s throat, bony gloved fingers squeezing tight, while the other hand wrested the gun from his twisted digits and sent it to the floor.
    “Wrong choice,” Jacob said, yanking Duncan up from behind his desk in his curled fist, then shoving him hard to the ground.
    Pain flared through Duncan’s body as Jacob hopped on top and straddled him. Jacob’s weight, combined with his powerful grip on Duncan’s neck, rendered the old man into a helpless glob of jelly.
    He cried out for help, but there was no one left to help him.
    Jacob’s eyes met Duncan’s, and the intruder smiled like a snake.
    “Tell you what, Mr. Alderman,” Jacob leaned in toward Duncan. “I do appreciate your spirit! You’ve admirable fight, especially for a withered old man. I really hate the thought of you winding up on the wrong side of history, simply because you were too hasty to make the right decision. So to save us both from the trouble — you the agony and me the disappointment — I’m going to decide for you. You will be with us, and not against us. Does that sound right to you?”
    Jacob lowered his weight onto Duncan, as if trying to push words from his body.
    The old man struggled to speak, but Jacob’s grip was too tight, choking his air and killing his words. He squirmed beneath his weight, shaking his head “no” as best he could.
    Jacob’s smile spread wider, moving his fingers from Duncan’s neck to the corners of his mouth where he pried his lips open against his thrashing.
    Oh God, what is he doing?
    Jacob’s right hand held Duncan’s head firmly in place as he lifted his left, and showed the old man his now ungloved palm along with the parasite slithering under his skin.
    Oh God.
    The flesh on Jacob’s hand began to split,