Ten years hadn’t changed Austen’s appearance. Besides the lone picture and article, not a single additional mention came up on the internet. Strange. In a world of Instagram and Facebook, a model would’ve plastered his photos on every social media site available. Right?
Were they the same guy? If so, he hadn’t aged. Was he possessed? Morrisey saw nothing weird, not like with Arianna. Then again, he’d visualized Austen as an angel during his near-death experience. Instincts deep inside assured Morrisey of Leary’s humanity, but he lacked the same confidence about Austen.
Whoever these feds were, they wanted Morrisey to work for them.
Fuck. His head hurt.
He plugged the FAET flash drive from the envelope into his laptop. Based on information from the drive, the travelers came from a place called Domus, not exactly a world, but more of an alternate dimension or realm. Some far-out Twilight Zone shit. The highest level was Princeps, the ruling class and some of the first to disappear. Whether they simply vanished or escaped to another realm was anyone’s guess. Elitist snobs, more than likely, saving themselves with no thought of others.
Yet, only a few had been identified on Earth. Or what those from Domus called Terra. Strange.
Next came government officials, then the Magestra, the equivalent of law enforcement in whatever form. Hmm… Wasn’t that Latin for teacher? Or maybe it was intended as a variation of magestratus, or magistrate. Who knew? Then again, a smart person would definitely learn a lesson from getting arrested by a cop.
Or maybe years of drinking had stripped away all the scant Latin Morrisey once knew.
The Operares came next, the white-collar working class, also decimated by disappearances, and the Succuba, or comfort workers, which seemed to cover anything from sex work to masseurs. Damn, but Morrisey could use a good massage about now. He stretched his neck right, then left, until a pop sounded. Ah, better.
He continued reading. Next, the public servants, or Servus.
All the titles seemed to be Latin, so humans must’ve decided what to call them unless the other realm had similar words. Had Latin originated in another realm? This might explain why Morrisey never fully grasped the concept in Catholic school.
His head really hurt now.
Healers came from yet another level, Nutrixes, followed by those responsible for logistics and navigation, ensuring folks got from point A to point B efficiently. Bus drivers? Pilots?
Then came lower ranks, on down to the worst people the realm offered, or animals, rather: occisors, not a class, but more like a tiger or bear. They were bred as guardians until they turned on their owners, formed packs, and preyed on the unsuspecting. As they fed on negative energy among humans, they began provoking more responses to gain additional energy until they resorted to maiming victims to the point of death and feasting on their fear.
Prickles traced up Morrisey's nape. Maiming. Instilling fear. His and Will’s last case.
If those were the ones coming into this realm, possessing human bodies, no wonder the crime rate was soaring. Then again, Leary mentioned beings from additional realms occasionally popping in. And the federal government knew about all this? How many realms were there?
Wait! What was Morrisey thinking? He couldn’t be buying into this whole alternate realm thing, not even in an alcohol-induced delusion. But…
But what if everything Austen and Leary said today was real? Would more killing happen? Had a possessed being killed the victims whose deaths sent Will over the edge? A woman had recognized whoever stood at the door. Had it been someone she knew possessed by a demon? What about the guy who had murdered Bob, the liquor store owner, for the hell of it?
Maybe Morrisey should use the word “hell” sparingly.
Travelers had been traversing realms for centuries according to the information presented, their appearances and disappearances put down to myth and legend. Humans also stumbled through the other direction occasionally. Those who somehow came back reported different versions of where they’d been.
Then again, different realms. Did this explain Heaven and Hell? Valhalla?
If there were “demons” from other realms, could there be angels too? Even fallen ones?
His thoughts circled back to the ambulance, seeing an angelic being—Farren Austen.
An angelic being who didn’t age.
Years ago, when he’d been young and idealistic, Morrisey had vowed to enforce the law and protect those he’d sworn to serve. There might not be enough good deeds left in him to make up for the past, but he could try, couldn’t he?
Besides, if left unchecked, crime would only get worse. At least with the FBI Alternate Entities Task Force, he might know what he faced. Be privy to the facts. He also had no family to worry about, and even he acknowledged his thriving death wish.
And he wouldn't need to confront the empty desk where Will should be.
Will. If Morrisey caught the assholes who sent Will into a downward spiral…
Worth any price.
Where did Jessa-whatever figure in? Though Morrisey mostly didn’t see her as other than a woman, he’d noticed the same sense of one face overlaid on another, but only briefly and more subdued.