You Are My Brother

The Omen

Damien stood in the alley way Max had led him to. It was in the middle of the night, and no telling how long it had been since the kidnapping (a hellhound simply did not understand time apparently). But he had no doubt Max would be able to track those wretch God worshippers.
Kneeling on the ground, Damien touched the suitcase lain there. Mark's suitcase, he knew it to be. The way the leather was well cared for was a dead give away by itself. Picking up the case, Damien went to his limousine and set it in the backseat before telling his driver to take it back to the mansion. He had no further use for the limo. Max would lead the way and Damien would follow easily on foot.

With this now taken care of, Damien turned to Max.

"Find them." He told the dog, who snarled in determination before turning around and racing off, his nose to the ground in readiness to find the blonde that meant so much to his master.

***

Mark sat upright. As upright as the shackles around his wrists allowed. They pinned him to the ground behind his back, in the ruins of an ancient church. He had woken up here some hours ago, and now found himself guarded by a few of Declaro's brethren.

"You should never have done this." Mark murmured.

"Shut up." Came the quick response from the youngest.

Mark fixed the youngster with a belittling glare. "You have no idea what you've done. He is going to come for you, and this time I'll be the one praying for your safety and soul." He said, mocking Declaro's parting words the last he had seen that despicable old man.

The other minister, a tall man with dark bronze skin and dark eyes watched on, unintrigued. He'd been silent ever since Mark woke up with a splitting headache. At least it had subsided since then.

The younger did not speak again, and the silence dragged on once more. Dead silence. Only the wind broke it for another hour before Father DeCarlo himself arrived, earning the foulest stare Mark would ever be capable of.

"You." He snarled at the old man. "You let me go right now and maybe I won't charge and sue you senseless!" Mark spat, the chains to his shackles clanging slightly as Mark trembled in absolute anger. This was DeCarlo's plan all along. Either enlist Mark's help in killing Damien, or use Mark against his will. It mattered not. Damien could take them.

"You are all going to die if you don't let me go right now!" Mark added, voice rising as his anger exploded.

However it had little effect on DeCarlo.
"Brother Thorn, everyone will die unless we kill the Beast. I am sorry, truly. But it is our sacred mission to destroy the Anti-Christ. And even you cannot get in the way of that."

"But he's not what you think he is!" Mark objected strongly. "He is good, and kind and selfless! You don't know him as I do! You're not giving him a chance!"

However his words fell on deaf ears. "Damien Thorn must die, and you will see why soon enough. Now come brothers, we must prepare for the Anti-Christ's arrival." DeCarlo said sternly.

Mark's lips pressed into a thin line as he was taken from his shackles and marched deeper into the ruins, praying for everyone's safe delivery from this dark night. Especially for Damien.

***

Max growled softly as they stood on the hill, looking down it to the ruins upon hallowed ground. A trap indeed. But Mark was down there, and Damien would not wait much longer to make his move.

Damien observed that there was no light in the ruins, bringing him to believe the ministers were below the ground, unless they somehow developed vision in darkness. Slowly standing from the rock he had taken as a waiting seat, Damien went to Max and gently stroked the hellhound's head. "We must tread carefully Max. Now come." He said before descending the hill, the night covering his approach.