Date: Fri, 7 Mar 2003 13:23:45 -0800 (PST)
From: Liam Barnes <pagangamer@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Awakening: Chapter 7

This is a work of fiction involving the relationship of two young men (
late teens to mid twenties), both physical and emotional. If you are made
uncomfortable by such subjects as gay sex, magic and the supernatural, then
please stop reading now. Likewise, if you are below the age of 18, please
stop here.

This story uses elements from White Wolf's World of Darkness series of
games. Mage: The Ascension, Magadon Pharmaceutical, PsychDiv, Verbena, Cult
of Ecstasy, Freak Legions, Werewolf: The Apocalypse, Pentex, The
Traditions, The Technocracy and similar elements are copyrighted by White
Wolf Game Studio. This work of fiction is not a challenge to existing
copyrighted materials, and no profit is gained by its publication.
	Kate Sanders, Aaron Barry, and Stefan are the intellectual property
of Don Bassingwaite and White Wolf Fiction. For a more in depth treatment
of these characters, and a great read, pick up a copy of SUCH PAIN from
Harper Collins.
	Constructive criticism is highly appreciated; flamers and hate mail
will be ignored. Write me at PaganGamer@yahoo.com with Awakening in the
subject heading.

** I have also published this and the previous chapters in an MS Word
format on the Gay_Fantasy_Fiction group at Yahoo Groups.  I have started
placing artwork depicting scenes and characters from the story there as
well. Give it a look, or upload your own Sci-Fi / Fantasy stories. It's
totally free.  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Gay_Fantasy_Fiction/ **


                                   The Awakening
                                   By Liam Barnes


                                         7
                                    Revelations


May 23rd, 2002
12:10 p.m.
Magadon Pharmaceuticals, San Francisco

	Agent James Preston stood in front of the large mahogany desk of
Roland Jouas, Vice President of Research for the San Francisco branch of
Magadon. The executive was sifting through papers that were neatly stacked
on top of the desk's darkly polished surface. Jouas had a face which only a
mother could love, though Preston seriously doubted even a mother could
feel warmth for such a homely face. His lumpy head was covered in a matt of
ragged brown hair that refused to lay flat, and his pasty skin was covered
in liver spots.
	Jouas looked up from his papers, cold, black eyes assessing the
Iteration X agent as though he were a slab of meat. Of course, he figured
that in the eyes of the company, he was. "So then, Mr. Preston," the
executive began with a gravely voice, "the Cultist escaped?"
	The agent felt a twinge of fear run through him at the sound of the
man's statement. "Yes, sir."
	Roland Jouas stared unblinking at the Enlightened
operative. Preston tried to gauge what the man was thinking from his flat
expression, but couldn't. Finally, after what seemed to be several minutes,
the man spoke. "Well, then that gives us a greater advantage than if you
had just captured him, like you wanted. As long as he is free, we can
continue using him as a scapegoat."
	"I had thought the same thing."
	Jouas gave him a dark smile. "I want you to make sure that your
Technocrat friends don't find him."
	"That may be difficult," Preston quipped. "That Grayface bitch is
heading up the assignment. She's already gone out looking for the little
faggot."
	"Then I suggest you get to work, Agent Preston. Our masters won't
be pleased with excuses. They expect results." Jouas steepled his hands on
the desk, and gave the Technocrat a smile which showed very sharp teeth.
	Something in the way the little man was smiling sent shivers down
James Preston's spine. He expected the Technocrat to fail, and relished the
thought of it. Perhaps, the Iterator thought, Jouas should be brought down
to size. He's only human, where as I am Enlightened.
	"Miss Jensen," the executive spoke into the intercom, "Could you
send in Charles Ledescu?" Agent Preston raised an eyebrow at hearing the
name.
	The office door opened and a tall dark-haired man walked in. He was
dressed in a black business suit with a dark red shirt underneath. In one
arm he carried a black leather folder stuffed with paperwork. Sure enough,
James recognized his face from the Union's file. Mr. Ledescu sat down in
the chair before Jouas, reclining comfortably in the leather seat.
	"So, Charles," Jouas started pleasantly, "How is Project
S. C. coming along?"
	Sparing only a cursory look at the agent, the man stated, "Very
well, if I do say so. We finished the first testing of the final product
two weeks ago, which was distributed to the streets through Chris Safavi's
daughter. Already we have noticed a significant rise in petty crimes within
areas of distribution. Primarily shop lifting and fights. So far nothing
major."
	The homely looking Jouas smiled contently. "I'm sure that the Board
will be pleased with that. Has anyone taken notice the project's true
nature that is outside of the development group?"
	Ledescu shook his head. "No one. As far as any of the corporate
staff knows, the project is research for the PsychDiv group; the name
Sticky Candy a joke referring to the compound's physical state before
manufacturing in pill form.
	"As for any paper trail, staging the sabotaging has allowed for the
temporary displacement of any real documentation. The fake files have
already been placed on the `backup' disks for eventual dissembling. We even
have a video of the theft merely waiting on a face to place in the image."
	"Hold off on the video for now." Jouas leaned back. "Actually," he
said thoughtfully, "you might give it over to Mr. Preston here after the
meeting. He has our scapegoat picked out already."
	"Really?" Charles looked inquisitively at Agent Preston.
	Preston smirked. He had a lot more than just a scapegoat; he had an
opening. "Yeah. In fact Miss Safavi brought him right to us." Preston
pulled out a palm pad and clicked up a picture of the Cultist. He handed
the pad to Ledescu. "His name is Marcus Uptmor. He's the sorcerer that she
insinuated herself with about two months ago."
	"Is she still with him?"
	Preston shook his head. "He's gone on to other fish in the
sea. Some little school boy fairy," he added, trying hard to suppress the
irony he so wanted to express. That would come later.
	Ledescu snorted in disgust. Clicking off the picture, he handed the
pad back to the Iteration X agent. "He'll work."
	"Is there anything further, gentlemen?" Jouas added the last with a
bit of derision.
	Preston shook his head as Ledescu stood up, saying, "We're going to
have to deal with the Safavi girl soon, I think."
	"Why do you say that?"
	"She's becoming demanding, wanting more money and acting above her
earned position."
	"Then get rid of her," Jouas said evenly.
	"Chris won't like that much."
	"So don't let him know that we were involved," the ugly little man
grinned. "It's not as if such a disappearance is so uncommon in her line of
work."
	"Let me handle her," James offered.
	"Are you sure?" Jouas gave him a critical look. "Don't you have
enough to look after?"
	"I can handle it," he reassured. "It will be added material to keep
the Union after the Cultist."
	"Do it then. And don't fail." With that, Jouas went back to his
papers.
	Preston and Ledescu walked out of the office and towards the
elevators. The two didn't even seem to acknowledge the other until they
entered the elevator. Preston felt it was time to set up his mark. "So,
what exactly is Project S.C.?"
	"I'm not sure if I am supposed to disclose that."
	"Please, Mr. Ledescu. I am about to kill the daughter of the head
researcher to help distract from the research itself. Whom do you think I
am going to tell? Besides," he added, "if I am about to tangle myself in
some lame scheme, I'd like to know what it is I am getting into."
	"I see your point. Very well then, Project Sticky Candy is
basically a way to create multiple Formori through the use of easily
accessible street drugs, in this case, Candy Flips."
	Interesting, Preston thought, a mass produced corrupt army. Formori
were humans or animals whose bodies and souls had been twisted into
monstrous forms through the possession of blighted spirits called
banes. "Call me naive, but I have never heard of a candy flip."
	The elevator doors opened. Charles motioned for the conversation to
stop. After maneuvering through rows of gray cubicles, the two came to a
corner office outside which an old crone sat, typing steadily at her
computer. "Please hold any calls for me, Ms. Katzburg." The woman gave a
noncommittal grunt as he closed the office door.
	Ledescu reached into a drawer of a metal file cabinet, pulling out
the security tape to be doctored. He handed it to Agent Preston, and then
leaned against his desk. "Candy Flips are XTC pills laced with D-lysergic
acid diethylamide. After a few minutes of intensified sensation, the XTC
fades and the acid's effects set in; hallucinations and other false mental
sensations.
	"Our version, under the street name of Tiny, contains various banes
and Formorol to help catalyze the change into Formori. Very few actually
contain the bane spirits, most just contain the Formorol, acting as an
addictive agent. At first, the targets merely feel more violent, or perhaps
have a feeling of lower inhibitions. Gradually, the bane will awaken and
start whispering into their `soul's ear' and their depredations will
grow. Most won't even realize when they've changed."
	James Preston was amazed at the ambitious plan. If it succeeded,
Pentex would significantly increase its might, as well as contribute to an
impressive amount of corruption. Of course, it might prove too
ambitious. Great spikes in criminal or deviant behavior would never go
unnoticed for long by the New World Order's personnel.
	"The violence, hatred and disease spread by the targets will
greatly strengthen Pentex's position," the executive continued.
	The agent smiled. "Yes, I imagine with the sexual appetites that
most teens display normally, this Tiny of yours is likely to send STD cases
through the roof."
	"Exactly. You may not need to do anything to Safavi's daughter. If
she isn't infected already, she will be soon." The dark-headed man gave a
sickening laugh. "Probably even infected your scapegoat, as well."
	James practically grinned as he placed the tape in his jacket
pocket. He turned to leave, stating, "It would sure be a shame if he was."
	"Why's that?" Ledescu asked looking up in genuine confusion.
	"Why considering that he and your son were caught this morning in
Flagrante Delicto at Fort Funston. And not a condom anywhere to be
found. If he wasn't infected before, well . . ." the agent let the remark
hang there as he walked out of the office. Let the corporate fuck chew on
that for a while.

                              * * *

	Charles Ledescu sat down at his desk. Andrew had nothing to do with
any of this business, and he sure as hell wasn't a queer. The man must have
been making some sick joke at his expense. But deep down, he knew
better. No one made comments like that in Pentex unless they meant to. If
anything it was more of a threat than a joke. He felt the beginnings of a
stomach cramp coming on.
	He picked up the phone and dialed home. Meredith would tell him
that Andrew had come home this morning, without any events. He pulled a
prescription bottle out of his desk drawer as another stomach cramp hit. He
had been taking the pills for weeks now, but with limited effect. He was
seriously thinking about having the dosage increased.
	The phone continued ringing as he drummed his fingers
impatiently. "Where are you, you doped up bitch," he muttered aloud.
	The phone clicked. "Hello?"
	"Hello, sweetie," he responded with false caring. "Have you
happened to have heard from Andy today?"
	"Funny you should ask that. He just called about ten minutes
ago. He said that he was going to be staying with friends all day today. He
said that he would be home tonight, but that he might be staying over at
one of his friends for the night."
	Charles felt his stomach cramp harder the longer she prattled
on. He waited for his wife to shut up for a moment then injected, "Has he
even been home yet?"
	"No," she seemed unsure at first, then "At least not that I have
seen or heard."
	Doped up on whatever prescription of the day you're on, he thought
caustically, I doubt you could have. "Say, he wouldn't have said whose
house he was at, did he?"
	"I think it was some kid named Mark, or some such. Why? Is there
something wrong?"
	He popped another pill as a cold sweat broke out. "No, everything's
fine. I'll see you tonight, hun. Love you." He hung the phone up and
staggered to the office's private bathroom.
	His hand was pressed against his stomach as though that would stop
the pain. He stumbled to the toilet, sure that his stomach was eating
itself. It wouldn't surprise him if he did have a fucking ulcer. The rise
to his corporate position had been cut throat, requiring many hours of
overtime and being away from his family. Any sign of weakness would have
lost him the chances to advance. Then being introduced to the true mission
of Magadon and all other companies owned by Penetex had added a whole
different level of stress. Now the phrase `eat or be eaten' was no longer a
metaphor. Failing was no different than a death sentence.
	With the commitment to work came the associated marital
problems. Meredith was reduced to taking various anti-depressants and other
mood elevators just to keep up appearances. She spent most of the time
asleep at home, or gossiping with other bitchy wives on the street. Any
love he had felt for her quickly faded as he watched her fall so fast when
things began to get tough. If Charles Ledescu hated anything, it was
weakness in others.
	Now, this whole situation with Andrew. His stomach churched
nauseatingly at the thought. It had to be the sorcerer. He had to have put
some kind of spell of his son! Andrew wasn't queer! He wouldn't allow it!
	Suddenly, he vomited noisily into the toilet. After several heaves
he finally stopped. Relieved at the loss of pressure, he wiped his mouth
with some paper, and then dropped it immediately when he looked in the
porcelain receptacle. He let out a terrified cry and launched himself off
of the floor. The toilet writhed with fat white worms; at least, that is
what they would resemble if worms had gaping teeth-filled maws. Backed up
against the wall, he turned to flee the room but was brought up short by
the presence of someone standing in his office.
	  Ronald Jouas stared intently at Charles Ledescu, an approving
smile on his homely face. He held out a hand and said, "Let's talk about
your future here with Magadon, Charles."



<Well, that's the end of this chapter, boys. I hope you enjoyed it. I know
that Andrew and Marcus weren't in this one, but don't worry, they'll be
back soon. I have received a lot of e-mails from fans, and love to hear
from you all!  Don't forget that if you want to be added to a list
notifying you when the next chapter is out, to let me know. Thanks again
you all!!  Love Liam ^_^ >