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   Chapter One: Innocence 
[As I walk through the valley of the shadows of death, I shall fear no evil, 
for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.] Psalm 23:4

   The dark night engulfed Nicholas, swallowing him into the abyss. His sweaty palms trembled against his thighs as he stood in the valley, knowing there was a good chance he was about to die. His throat tightened, as he imagined all the terrible things that could be happening to his friend. What if she was hurt? What if she wasn’t even alive? By now, Nicholas had an open mind to the impossible. Anything could happen. Nothing was off limits. 
       Fog dripped down the valley walls and rolled past his feet. The hazy air made it difficult to see until a spark of ember shined and revealed the landscape. Decrepit gravestones scattered endlessly across a sheet of skeleton fragments. Thin, brittle bones crunched at his feet as he started through the valley, though he preceded without concern. His eyes fixated on a group of limp, old bodies creeping beyond his shoulders, dragging toward him. Their hands and arms swayed like a rag doll as they lurked behind the fog. The men cried, grinding their teeth with pain as they watched Nicholas following the crackling firelight.  
       Each step he took came with a harsh breath. His trembling hand reached into his back pocket, fingers fighting for his inhaler. The cold air reached down his dry throat like a claw, scrapping along his skin. Quickly he lifted the inhaler placing it against his crusty lips and he pushed down on the top. Soon after, his lungs relaxed. How could a boy have come this far and survived so much at such a young age? It seemed like Nicholas had forgotten a lot in his walk through the valley, like his mind was erased in such a short period of time. He had completely forgotten how he got to the Valley of Death, why he held six completely random objects in his backpack and what had happened to his friend. There wasn’t too much he could recall, but one thing was certain, he was about to face the greatest evil imaginable. As he came to the end of the valley, he stared into the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen. And then he remembered how it all began...  
        The show had just ended and the thick, ruby curtains pulled back together, making the stage disappear like a magic act. Oliver and Kathleen Blackwell stood up from their seats. They both looked stunning; Kathleen in an elegant dress with a shawl wrapped around her thin shoulders and her husband in a well fitting, designer suit. Their seven year old boy jumped to his feet and followed his parents out of the aisle. Nobody in the theater was more excited than he was to celebrate the night with his mother and father. His hair was combed and parted to the side and he wore a matching suit and tie to his fathers, which made him proud. 
       In the lobby, Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell mingled with some friends, colleagues and one of Kathleen’s old professors from New York City University. Nicholas made a round with his parent’s friends. He counted five pinches to the cheek, three, ‘look how tall you’ve gotten’ and two, ‘you look just like your father.’ 
        Finally Nicholas sat on a stiff leather couch in the corner of the lobby, staring out of the window at the snow covered lane, preferring playing in the snow over lingering in the lobby. He drowned out the sound of laughter and the clinking of wine glasses and the endless conversations of political views and put his thoughts on more innocent wonders such as Christmas which was only two days away. He reminded himself for the third time that day to not forget to leave cookies for Santa Clause tomorrow night. As he imagined all the presents under the Christmas tree, he saw a flash in the corner of his eye. Down the street a man held a camera, pointed toward Nicholas. Again it flashed and the man turned around as quickly as he took the picture and headed down the opposite direction of the street. Nicholas shrugged his shoulders and sat back into the couch. He took out his Gameboy and just as he clicked it on, his parents were ready to continue their family night.     
         Shortly after they took a taxi to a small café beside Central Park where they shared dessert. The atmosphere was warm and resembled a cozy cabin lost in the middle of the woods. A stone fireplace, fit for a giant’s home, contained dancing fire, crackling with brilliant flames. Nicholas flattened his menu across the wood table. With his tongue sticking slightly out from the corner of his mouth, he ran a finger down the glossy page. He was excited because it was his turn to choose. He picked the peanut butter cheesecake, only because he knew that peanut butter was his mom’s ultimate favorite flavor. After the family was stuffed with dessert they made their way to Rockefeller Center to take a picture in front of the second largest Christmas Tree in the world. 
        If Nicholas was just a little older, perhaps he would have noticed the two men following his family. The two men had been in the theater, watching the show from the balcony beside the one they where in. They had eaten dinner in the café beside Central Park and they were now taking pictures of them from a lurking distance.
       The night was getting late, almost morning. It was one of the only nights Nicholas was allowed to stay up so late. It was a holiday treat, and he loved it because staying up late made him feel grown up.
       Oliver waved down a taxi. Nicholas got a glimpse of his father’s ring that was embedded with an amethyst stone. It was a family heirloom, one that has been around for many generations. Not too long ago, Oliver told Nicholas that one day the ring would be handed down to him. Ever since Nicholas has appreciated the ring so much more. 
        Once a taxi pulled up beside them they were off back home, making their way through the labyrinth of a city toward the upper east side. The Blackwells were a wealthy family, but they were down to earth. Though they lived a lavish life, living in a three story home filled with expensive furniture and wore designer outfits. They went every Sunday to church and they volunteered at a variety of different venues: such as children hospitals, the old folks homes, beach clean-ups, and homeless shelters. They were a kind family with a lot of love to give. The first to help the needy and the last to harm a soul.   
       The taxi pulled up beside their home. Kathleen helped Nicholas out of the car, as Oliver paid the taxi driver, giving him a generous tip that made the man beam with gratitude, thanking him over and over again. 
       “Happy Holidays to you and your family. Take care,” Oliver said.
       “You as well Mr. Blackwell. God bless.” The man waved goodbye and drove off into the night, headed back home early now that he had made more than enough tips. 
       Kathleen wrapped her arms around Nicholas on the doorstep, huddled under a cozy jacket. The warmth of his mother overpowered the bitter cold night. “You know Nicholas, that this time tomorrow night, Santa Clause will be already delivering toys around the world.” 
       “He will, wont he?” Nicholas beamed. “I can hardly wait.”
       “Me too,” she smiled down at her son. 
       Oliver met up with his family at the front door and took his house key out of his coat pocket. Just as he unlocked the door his cell phone went off. Kathleen gave him a look that made him hesitant to answer.
       “It’ll just take a minute,” he assured her. 
       “Alright, but remember it’s our night, not work night.” She took Nicholas' hand and led him up the stairs to his bedroom. She helped him change out of his suit that he reluctantly took off. Nicholas loved dressing up like his Father. That was his hero after all. He wanted to be just like him. 
       Nicholas jumped into bed and crawled under his thick, superhero-themed comforter. Kathleen gave him Dexter, his stuffed bear and a kiss on the cheek goodnight. She walked to the doorway and turned the bedroom lights off, leaving only a Batman nightlight on in the corner of his room.
      “Goodnight mommy.” 
      “Goodnight sweetheart. I love you.” She closed the door behind her, leaving just a crack open. Nicholas grabbed Dexter and closed his eyes. It didn’t take long at all before he doze off. 
      Almost as quickly as it took to fall asleep, Nicholas woke up to the shatter of glass. He kicked the comforter off and jumped out of bed. His eyes fought to wake up, dots flickered across his sight for a few moments before settling on the clock on his nightstand. He could hardly believe it was three a.m. 
     Slowly and cautiously he stepped and pushed his bedroom door open. He had watched a lot of scary movies with his dad so he knew what to do. He couldn’t make a peep. He tiptoed to the banister and looked out between the bars at the lower level. There he saw two men. One of them was wiping blood off his knuckles and the other was eating the Christmas cookies Nicholas and his mom had made that morning. The man with the bloody knuckles circled Oliver and Kathleen seated in a chair, tied up. Oliver’s right eye was swollen and his face was covered with cuts. His shirt was soaked with his own blood. 
       “I’m only going to ask you one more time, Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell. Where are the sins?” the man asked, while continuing to circle them.
       “We have no idea what your talking about,” Oliver spoke weakly.
       The man swung yet again, giving Oliver another blow to the face. A tooth flew out of his mouth and skidded across the floorboards. The man eating cookies stopped to laugh, crumbs falling down the front of his overalls.  
       “Oliver, Oliver, Oliver,” the man teased. “Why do you make me hurt you?” He stopped his pacing and leaned into Oliver. Kathleen quivered in her chair, her hair had fallen down her face, half done, half a mess. Her dress tattered. “You think I don’t know the famous Blackwells? You Oliver, the infamous Seeker who had sent so many of my kind back to Hell.” He turned to Kathleen. “And your wife, Kathleen Blackwell, formally known as Kathleen LaGuardia. Studied at New York University where she majored in Philosophy and Religion with a minor in Demonology. How exciting,” he smirked. “What a powerful couple you two made.”
      “We do not seek anymore,” Kathleen said, holding back tears, fighting through a cut lip. 
      “And why again was that?” The man now leaned into Kathleen. His cruel breath swept across her cheek. “Was it because you finally were able to conceive?” He pressed his hand against her belly. 
      “Don’t touch her!” Oliver bellowed. 
       The man with the cookies laughed louder. 
       Again Oliver was smacked across the face. “Where are the sins, Oliver?! Where are they?!” He forced Oliver out of his chair, and pushed him against the glossy, wood floorboards. There he was kicked three times in the stomach. 
       “Stop it please!” Kathleen cried. 
        The man pulled a gun out his side pocket and shoved it into Oliver’s face. Nicholas' heart began pounding so hard that he was sure his chest could burst. His lungs were collapsing, and breathing became difficult. But his mind was focused on his parents and the gun pointed in his father’s face that alone made him unconcerned at the distance he was from his inhaler.     
       “I’m gonna ask you Kathleen one more time or your husband will die. Where are the sins?” He demanded, gripping tightly to the gun in his hand. 
       “If I tell you the whereabouts of the sins you’ll just kill us anyways.” Tears fell hard down her face. 
       “Aw, Katy. Can I call you Katy?” His voice softened, but Kathleen didn’t answer. “I am a man of my word. Tell me where you hid them and all of this will go away.”
       “Kathleen don’t,” Oliver said knowing that his wife was about to give in to the demands.
       “Shut up!” he shouted back, face red, veins pushing against his skin. He turned back to Kathleen and shook the gun in his hand. “Katy, I will pull this trigger. Now answer me! Where are you hiding the sins?”
       “They are contained!” she cried out. 
       “Where?”
       “Sins can only be contained within… innocence.” As the words left her lips, Oliver closed his eyes and just muttered the word ‘no’ over and over again. 
      “Innocence,” the man smirked. “A child. You brilliant woman. Now how come we never thought of that?” He turned to his friend who had finished the Christmas cookies. “I love it, simple, yet righteous. Innocence, all apart of the great Divine.” He looked up to the ceiling, as if it was to the Heavens. 
       Nicholas quickly leaned back from the banister so that he couldn’t be spotted. Then Nicholas heard the most horrible sound he had ever heard. A gun shot. Kathleen screamed, choking on sorrow. Nicholas looked back downstairs, his father was hidden behind the couch. Kathleen had fallen to her knees, head in her lap, arms still tied to the legs of the chair.
      “You evil son of a bitch!” Kathleen screamed. 
      “Ouch, Katy, there is no need for all that.” He helped her back to her chair. 
      “You said you wouldn’t hurt him,” she trembled. 
      “Hurt him?” the man gave a slight chuckle. “No, I didn’t hurt him. I freed him. You should be thanking me. I thought the Blackwells were all about protecting the Divine. Now he is at peace.” 
       Kathleen spat in his face. With the sleeve of his shirt he mopped the spit clean. “I wouldn’t have done that,” he said, hands leaning against the arms of her chair. “You see Katy, we’ve been watching your family for a very long time now. And I know for a fact that during the time that you and your husband fought the Guardians of Sins and contained them like you so honorably admit, that you were actually… pregnant.” Her face was now soaked with tears, shaking her head, begging for him to stop. “Now I can’t think of anything more innocent than a child that hasn’t even been born. A child that hasn’t even had the chance to sin.” He turned to the man covered in cookie crumbs. “Get the boy.” 
      “No!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. 
       Nicholas jumped to his feet and ran up to the third level to his parents bedroom. He didn’t care how much noise he made while running, he just knew he had to hurry. He hadn’t even realized he was carrying Dexter until then, when Nicholas jumped into his parent’s room. Just as he crawled under the bed he heard the sound of another gunshot and his mother’s screams went silent. He could have puke right than, but the fear of the man following him kept Nicholas from focusing on the fact that he had just become an orphan.
      Nicholas hugged Dexter so tightly as he laid under the bed. He tugged onto the silk sheets and they fell perfectly so that he was hidden, but he could make out the silhouette of the dresser and the bedroom door. But now he became aware of his harsh breathing; wheezing even. His asthma was always his crutch, holding him back from running or, riding a bike or even playing in the snow. And now it was going to get him caught and perhaps murdered. Where was my inhaler? Oh yeah, my bathroom drawer. There had to be more. Mom got a lot and put them into different places. Where were they? In the kitchen junk drawer. The glove compartment in the car. There was one near my stack of video games, in my backpack. Ms. Brown had one in the classroom, but there had to be more. His chest was about to explode. Mom had one in her nightstand. Nicholas jumped out from underneath the bed and pulled open the drawer. He could faint any moment. He grabbed the inhaler and took a puff, counted twenty seconds and then repeated. The dizziness wasn’t recovering fast enough. He staggered forward and leaned against the mattress to catch his fall. Right before he could run back to his hiding place, the bedroom door swung open. He could have sworn it was Kathleen, running toward him. He caught a glimpse of her auburn hair. His vision went blurry and then he passed out. 
      By the time he woke up, it was Christmas morning. He didn’t get to wake up in bed and run into his parent’s bedroom to wake them up. He wasn’t opening presents or drinking eggnog. This Christmas morning, Nicholas Blackwell woke up in a hospital bed. 
      You might have thought he was lucky to be alive, but when your seven years old and you wake up in a hospital bed and no one is in the room waiting for you to wake up. That’s just not something you feel lucky about. It’s probably one of the most depressing things you can imagine, especially for Nicholas who felt numb to any feeling but heartache.                
      The nurse soon came in and explained to Nicholas what had happened. She tried to sugarcoat how his parents were murdered. Obviously she didn’t know he saw it with his own eyes.
      “How did I get here?” Nicholas asked. 
      “No one knows,” she answered. “No one saw you walk in. You where just found in the lobby, lying passed out on the floor. One minute the lobby was empty and the next you where there. Looks like you got a guardian angel on your side.”
      “But if I just appeared, how did you know what happened to my parents?” Nicholas asked. And then she grinned. It was a smile of pure evil. Her teeth darkened and her face cracked with wrinkles. Her hair unclipped out from a bun and fell down her face. She grabbed Nicholas by his wrist and pulled him closer. Her body trembled as she smelled up and down his arm. He tried pulling away, but her grip was too strong.  
      “Where are you hiding them?” she demanded. 
      “I’m not hiding anything.” 
      “I smell it on you.” Her teeth bit down on her bottom lip. Her now yellow eyes gazed into Nicholas. “Your blood will be spilled and they will once again be resurrected and regain their power over Mankind’s World. Do not mistake it, the seven great prince’s will once again wear their crown.”
      “Get off of me,” Nicholas tried now harder to pull free. 
       The door swung open and a man stepped into the hospital room. His long black robe flap against his feet as he stepped forward, now standing in the frame of the doorway. His white collar came high up his neck, making him appear very important. 
      The nurse grinned at Nicholas one last time before disappearing in a cloud of ash. The man hurried to Nicholas. The priest took an inhaler off a metal cart and handed it to him. Nicholas hadn’t even realized that he was losing his breath until he took the inhaler. With a simple puff his lungs healed. 
      “Did she harm you?” the priest asked. 
       He shook his head, unable to say a word. 
      “Good.” He took off Nicholas' blanket and helped him out of bed. “I already checked you out. We mustn’t waste time. The plane leaves in less then two hours.” He glanced at his wristwatch. 
      “What plane?”  
      “To London. There is a private boarding school there. It is a safe place for you, the only safe place.”
      “I don’t want to go to London. I want to go back home.” Nicholas started to tear up, moments from crying. 
      The priest grabbed his shoulders. “You have no family here. All living relatives are gone. You are now in the protection of the Vatican.”
      “The what?” 
      “It is the highest authority of the church. Now come.” He took Nicholas into the hallway. Nurses strolled past them and Nicholas wanted to scream for help, but he no longer trusted nurses. They sped past the lobby and the front door to the emergency room automatically pulled open. A limo waited beside two ambulances. He opened the limo door and they both scooted in. Once the door shut, the limo pulled out from its parking spot. 
      “My parents are really dead,” Nicholas said, breathing in the bitter reality.  
      “The only ones that die are the ones we forget.”
      “What about the funeral? Aren’t my parents going to have a funeral?” Nicholas asked. 
      “Of course. But you mustn’t go. They will expect you there,” he answered emotionless to Nicholas' sadness.  
      “Who will expect me there?” 
       He didn’t answer.  
       The car ride was silent. Nicholas found a suitcase of his things. He zipped it open and only found a few things, nothing exciting, just clothes. No toys or games not even a picture of his parents. He wasn’t sure why none of his things were packed, not even Dexter. He so badly wanted to ask to go back home and grab some more things, but he knew what his answer would be. 
       “Who are you?” Nicholas turned to the priest. 
       “Father Henry. I was goods friends to your parents for many years. I am the dean to the academy in which you will be attending and will be your new home.”
       “How come my parents never said anything about you?” Nicholas asked.
       “What your parents did for a living would make anyone not want to speak about it,” he answered flatly.    
        Shortly after, the limo entered the airport drop off. Father Henry stepped out, holding Nicholas' luggage and Nicholas scooted out after him. They dropped his things off in the loading dock and they hurried to the boarding gate.
        “Now a stewardess will be with you on the plane ride. Behave yourself, she is an old student at my academy and will give me a full report on you if you act out. Do not stray from her side not even for a moment.” 
        “Are you not coming with me?”
        “I will meet you at the academy tomorrow, but there is further need of me here. Now go before the plane leaves without you.” He pushed Nicholas through the boarding gate.
        The stewardess was waiting for Nicholas on the other side. She looked nice enough, but so did the nurse back at the hospital. She gently took Nicholas' hand and gave him a wide smile. Nicholas was always somewhat of a ladies man, or at least that is what his father used to say. He had wavy, jet black hair and dark blue eyes that popped from his light complexion. He always got his cheeks pinched and extra desserts from waitresses.
        “So your Nicholas?” she asked sweetly as they boarded the plane. 
        He nodded. 
        “My name’s Jenna. You’re going to hangout with me today?”
        “I guess.” They found their seats and Nicholas jumped to the window seat. “Maybe we can play a card game later. You like Go Fish?”  
        “Go Fish?” Nicholas shook his head. “How about Black Jack?” 
        She laughed. “I haven’t played too many times, but I’ll try and keep up.”
        The stewardess was one sweet lady. The whole flight she sat in the seat beside Nicholas playing Black Jack. She let him go see the captain which was the coolest thing ever! He got a special pin with wings and his name on it. It was all fun and a great distraction to missing his parents’ funeral, which made the long flight from New York to London as short as possible. 
       The plane began descending in a heavy rainfall. Nicholas didn’t tell Jenna that he hated the landing part of flying. But he figured she knew because she took his hand and asked Nicholas a bunch of questions about school, pets, favorite television shows and what sports he likes. Stupid stuff, but her technique of distraction worked, because before he knew it, they had landed.          
      “Welcome to London, England,” the Captain announced over the intercom. 
       Jenna took Nicholas' hand and helped him into the isle. Outside the plane was a tall, broad shouldered man in a tight, black suit, holding up a black umbrella and standing in front of a black, stretch limo. Nicholas got a sudden chill that could have been the cold of the rain or the fact that it looked like he was going to be handed off to this man. Jenna must have noticed he was uncomfortable. She reassured him that the man’s name was Wilbert and that he worked for the school he would be going to. So Nicholas was passed on yet again. This time to the limo driver, Wilbert. 
       It had been hours of driving with hardly any civilization. Nicholas stared out the tinted window and out to the gorgeous landscape of tall maple trees and wide, rich fields. As he watched the scenery, all he could think about was that his life would never be the same and that he would never see his parents again. 
      Finally the limo turned down a new path. The trees bent down over the road, shadowing down upon them. Fallen leaves hid the pavement. A brass iron gate pulled open when they came in view. Two stone gargoyles stood on both sides of the gate. Once they past the gate, Nicholas felt something different in his body that he had never felt before. It wasn’t good or bad, but felt like security. Almost as if there were arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tightly. He ignored the feeling. They continued on one more mile until Wilbert pulled the limo up beside an enormous red brick estate.  
     “This is it?” Nicholas asked, looking at the wide structure that seemed to have no end. 
     “Sure is Mr. Blackwell. Welcome to St. Christopher’s Academy,” the driver announced.   
     Wilbert got out of the car and walked around to open Nicholas' door. There didn’t seem to be kids around, most kids where after all on Christmas break. Nicholas still couldn’t believe that this was how he would be spending his Christmas day. He wondered if Santa Clause was going to know where he now lived, or if the jolly old man would just forget about him. 
     A nun was waiting for Nicholas at the doorstep and all he could think of was who now was he going to be passed off to. She was a heavier woman with grey curly hair framing her chubby face. Her hand pressed against her chest at the sight of Nicholas coming out from the limo. 
     “You poor thing,” she said, ready to cry. “I am Sister Margaret. Let me show you to your new room.” 
      She took him by the shoulders and guided him inside. The entrance was beautiful. The floor was marble and abstract artwork lined the hall. Nicholas was taken up the elegant staircase to the second floor to the west side of the school were the dormitories resided. Sister Margaret explained that the school was filled with hundreds of students during the year and that the hallways where never usually this quiet. 
      Nicholas' room was in the far back of the hallway. He opened the door and for a moment he couldn’t bring himself to step inside. It was pathetically small and dull. The carpet was ugly and blue and matched the thin window drapes. There were two tiny beds on opposite sides of the room. A desk stood between the beds with the most ancient computer and monitor screen Nicholas had ever seen. But then he spotted something he thought he would never see again. Dexter, his stuffed bear laid against his pillow on one of the beds. Nicholas hurried to him and grabbed Dexter as if he was holding onto the last bit of home he had left. 
      “Merry Christmas Nicholas,” Sister Margaret smiled from the doorway. 
      She left Nicholas alone to adjust to his new room, but it would be a very long time from now before he would start to feel comfortable in his new home.