Four strangers with opposing view points on life witness a crime that defies all logic. Now as the last surving witnesses they are being pursued by a powerful demon.Hastily they run from their pursuer, in hopes of finding the one mysterious person who can defeat the immortal hunting them down for their knowledge. The only clue they have to go on, is a name whispered in threat to an immortal Merlin, was killed thereafter.

Together the strangers must put aside their differences and rely on each


Bernard Kingsley, entered the filthy mundane bus, his demeanor and attire earning him some curious glances. He didn't mind. He was far above mortal opinion. It wasn't that he thought he was superior, it was that he knew he was. He had walked this earth since the beginning of time, without aging a day over thirty. He was powerful. Rich couldn't even begin to describe his entity.

Walking through the aisles of the bus, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. Faded blue eyes amidst porcelain skin all to be challenged with dark slicked back hair. His looks were predatorial, as they should be.

He found his nemesis, painstakingly dressed in mortal clothing; jeans and a sweater. Kingsley almost felt sorry for the old sap. His silver hair was cut and tucked beneath a baseball hat and his beard had been trimmed. He had tried so hard, and his efforts made this game all the more fun. Kingsley towered over Merlin, who refused to meet his eyes. “Are you giving me the silent treatment Merlin?”

Slowly Merlin looked up. “We are not friends Kingsley.”

Kingsley jeered, as he noticed what Merlin clutched in his arms. “The Grimoire,” he whispered in astonishment.

For hundreds of years Kingsley had been searching the world for this artifact of Gods. Now, here the hapless Merlin sat with it, a look of desperation settled on his face. “I have always wondered why you were the chosen protector of the ancient text, sorcerer.”

Merlin closed his eyes in concentration, but Kingsley lunged for the older man. The bus came to a sudden stop and the driver made an announcement aimed at Bernard, which was ignored. “You think I'm going to just let you will yourself out of here now, after searching hundreds of years for you?”

If you take this demon, you will have a far greater wrath to fear!” Merlin shouted just as the bus driver got up from his seat.

Kingsley found this amusing. “Tell me where is our dear old friend, William?”

Merlin shook his head. “Someplace where you can't get to him.”

Kingsley took that as a challenge. “Perhaps I should try.”

The thought of Kingsley harming William concerned Merlin more than anything else in the world. “He was your friend once too.”

    • Yes he was, but he's not anymore. I'll tell you what. I'll take the book, you can have Mr. Samson. Do we have a deal?”

Merlin's answer was intercepted by the presence of the bus driver. “I'm going to have to ask you both to get off of the bus now.”

Kingsley turned on the man. With a single look he threw the driver into the windshield. Of course after that there was the issue of the stunned mortals. He would have fun cleaning up his mess this time. Merlin stood up, his heart had grown soft over the years. In his attempt to rush to the driver, he loosened his grip on the grimoire.

Kingsley took full advantage of the situation...

The End

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