Blood Magic

by N. P. Martin

  “Jesus Christ,” I said, in between choking and fighting every instinct I had to turn and run back outside. It was like entering the foulest of sewers, and a place you would only go into if you had no choice. Beside me, Blaze sneezed once. That was the height of his reaction (well, what do you expect from an animal that laps the blood of corpses off the floor?).

  As much as I wanted to flee that place of pure evil, I forced myself to cross what was once the reception area of the factory. I then started walking down a corridor that I hoped would take me to Mr. Black. It was difficult even to see where I was going thanks to the light-sucking black magic residue. Luckily Blaze was walking just in front of me though, his head and body now veined with red fire that gave off enough light to just about see by. I had never been so glad to have him with me as we walked together into the heart of darkness, the possibility of death for the both us seeming more and more likely the closer we got to Mr. Black.

  Every now and again, a mighty roar would sound from outside as Rloth continued to announce his presence and our coming destruction, the roar shaking the very foundations of the old factory. If it wasn’t for the residue covering all the walls, the factory would have likely collapsed under the sheer reverberating force of his guttural roar.

  With Blaze lighting the way, I continued to edge my way further down the corridor. Or at least I did, until the wall in front of me stretched the way it would if a face and head were seeking to push their way out through the black vinyl appearance of the wall, from the inside out. I stared at the face as it turned toward me, its mouth opening to issue a tortured moaning sound like it was trapped in the worst place imaginable and knew it was never escaping—much like how I felt at that moment. Then another face stretched out of the opposite wall, along with a hand that tried to grab me. In seconds, there were faces pushing out everywhere, hands grasping at me, making it impossible to move any further.

  What the hell are these things?

  Then I realized, as much as I wished I hadn’t: they were the souls of the people murdered by Mr. Black. Scores of them all around me, their desperate cries and moans coming from all directions. Before I knew it, I was being held tight by numerous pairs of hands stretching from the walls and ceiling. Fingers dug into me, clawed at my face, caused me to cry out in panic.

  Blaze was in front of me and snapping at any hands daring enough to reach for him, his alighting coat and snapping jaws making quick work of them, often turning the wallow of despair to the cry of a more painful tune. Any hands that did manage to touch him got immediately burned, which again caused the grasping appendages to pull away from him. Then he rushed forward and started biting at the arms and hands that had a hold of me, but there were too many for him to deal with, and for every one he removed another was ready to take its place. When I felt one of those hands clamp over my face, covering my mouth and nose, I knew I had to do something. I’d been refraining from using my magic thus far because I knew I’d need as much as I could get when I found Mr. Black, but desperate times and all that.

  Focusing on my magic, I pulled back on it like an archer pulling on a bow, and then I let it go, releasing a blast of blue energy that cleared away all the hands, and which also sent Blaze skidding across the floor. He recovered quickly, though, and I urgently beckoned him to rush down the corridor with me. He recovered quickly, though, and I urgently beckoned him to hurry as I rushed down the corridor before any more grasping souls could get a hold of me.

  When we finally got to the end of the corridor, we turned up another hallway that looked like it might lead to the center of the factory, but the hallway was already criss-crossed with scores of arms and hands and wailing heads. There was no way I would make it down there, not without getting stuck again. It would take a long blast of magic to cut back all those limbs. But I was reluctant to use any more magic than I already had, because I knew I'd need every ounce I had for the coming battle ahead.

  Thankfully, Blaze lived up to his name and moved in front of me as he cranked up the length and intensity of the flames spurting out of the red veins on his body, until he was completely covered by scorching fire. I stayed as close as I could to him as he moved up the long corridor, burning back the limbs and faces that stretched out of the walls, the souls wailing as they got burnt by his elemental fire.

  Minutes later, Blaze burst through a set of double doors, and we crashed through into a massive open space containing mangled machinery pushed against all the walls as if it had been swept aside by a powerful force.

  Which of course it had. That powerful force was currently in the middle of the room, raised high upon a dais of what looked to be black tentacles or miniaturized versions of Rloth's own, those currently pulling him inexorably toward our destruction. Standing upon the dais, however, with tentacles moving it along the floor as if at his will, was the nightmare instigating that terror: none other than Mr. Black.

  Or at least it used to be, because the figure standing atop that undulating black mass didn't look like any version of Mr. Black that I had yet seen. The evil bastard had now triumphantly transformed into a demon-like figure that was as black as his magic excretion, with two long, twisting horns. There was barely even a recognizable face there anymore, just two glowing green eyes set against a faceless black mask. He seemed also to have acquired a trident from somewhere, to complete the whole demonic look. There was no doubt the bastard was intimidating, raised so high off the ground, the roof blown apart to reveal the swirling portal, and the ever lengthening black tentacle belonging to Rloth: Eater Of Worlds.

  When he spotted me standing there, Demon Black moved his dais forward, spreading his arms out in greeting, or as if to say, “Look at all I've achieved!”

  “August!” he bellowed above the noise of the maelstrom outside, and the continued deafening roar of Rloth. “You have come to witness the end. Welcome!” The voice of the black demon was deep and guttural, but I still heard my father’s voice in there. It was still him underneath everything.

  To say I was afraid would have been an understatement. The coming of Rloth was terrifying enough, but having to face Mr. Black in his new demonic form was a terrifying prospect. Especially when he spoke with my father's brutal authority, that somehow only made me feel like a child again, completely dominated by his father's will. It was only Blaze's loud barking that shook me out of my fearful state.

  Don’t let him intimidate you! I thought. He’s nothing more than a bully, always has been!

  Which was true, but that didn’t make him any less scary…or dangerous.

  "Stop this!" I shouted, the apparent confidence in my own voice giving me strength. "Or I will!”

  Demon Black laughed, a sound that seemed to echo all the way from my childhood, making me feel small and insignificant. “Oh, August,” he said, aiming his trident at me. “When will you ever learn that your father knows best?”

  He blasted me with dark red energy then, which shot out of the tip of his trident and hit me hard in the chest, lifting me off my feet and bouncing me off the wall behind.

  As I lay there groaning, only a single thought crossed my mind: This shit is going to hurt.

  52

  Dark Magic Rising

  AS I PICKED myself up off the ground, supporting my chest just to be able to breathe and move through the pain, Demon Black scuttled toward me atop his viscous mass of darkness; that self-satisfied bellowing once again originating from his throat. “You are weak, August,” he said. “I thought I made you stronger than that. Obviously, I was wrong.”

  Anger rose in me, and I straightened up. “Firstly you megalomaniacal madman,” I shot back. “My name’s Creed to you, you fucking sociopath...and secondly you old bastard, the only fucking thing you ever gave any of us, was unadulterated misery. We all hated you, even Mother.”

  A growl issued from him and he jabbed his trident at me again. “I gave you power! All of you! You would be nothing now without me!”

  “They are nothing thanks to y
ou!" I strode forward, my rage trampling down whatever fear I felt before. “They’re all dead!”

  His burning red eyes glared at me. "Don't worry, August. You will be joining them soon." He laughed as he looked up towards the sky just as Rloth gave another rumbling roar, which sounded much closer now, vibrating the very ground I stood on. "Everyone will!"

  Blaze stood a few feet from me, his whole body a mass of flame as he growled at the demon. As I conjured a swirling ball of blue energy in my right hand, Blaze turned his head towards me, and I nodded at him. Then, as Demon Black stared in awe at his master breaking through the portal, I fired the ball of energy at him, catching him off-guard and just below the chest, knocking him back a few feet; but not much more, and not nearly enough for there to be any current impression that I would win this battle on a toe-to-toe basis of my own magical repertoire versus his own.

  At the same time, Blaze cranked his elemental heat and sprinted right into the twisting mass of tentacles beneath our quarry. With Demon Black's glare steady on me, preparing to retaliate in kind, Blaze penetrated the ectoplasmic mass and burnt right through it like acid through metal, causing Demon Black to cry out in shock, and what sounded promisingly like pain to me.

  As Blaze continued boring his way, Demon Black vented a cry of angry frustration as he shifted backwards at speed, exposing Blaze as he continued to destroy the mass. With trident in hand, he used telekinesis to trap and raise Blaez, so that he bucked and swished at nothing but air as he sought to escape the force holding him in place.

  To try and save Blaze, I fired another blast of magic at Demon Black, but he merely held out his free hand and stopped it midair before launching it back at me. As the blast sphere was made up off my own magic, I was able to catch it in my hand without much trouble, intending to fire it straight back.

  But Demon Black was a step ahead as he suddenly swung his trident in my direction. The next thing I knew, a massive fireball in the form of Blaze was hurtling towards me, moving so fast that I barely had time to get an energy shield up to protect myself. A howling Blaze slammed right into me, knocking me down onto the floor, his flames scalding my face and neck. I screamed in pain and managed to push Blaze off me, my demon skin trench coat thankfully absorbing most of the wolf's fierce heat.

  It was then that I saw the trident come screaming through the air like a deadly missile, before piercing Blaze’s body right through and pinning him to the ground. Blaze howled in pain as sparks and flames flew up around him, so much so that there was no way I could get near him to even try and pull out the trident. Blaze was stuck there to the floor, blood that was orange like lava seeping out of him as he gradually stopped moving and finally lay still.

  "No!" I screamed, turning in a rage to glare at Demon Black, who had now detached himself from the ectoplasmic mass. He then came striding towards me, dark, leather-like clothing covering his even darker form, his eyes seeming to burn ever fiercer as he fixed me in his sights. Clearly, he was done with messing around.

  But so was I.

  Shooting an arm out in his direction, I used it to focus a spell I was inwardly reciting, channeling the growing magic down my arm and into my hand where it formed into a yellowed mass of bright energy.

  "Your spells will not work on me," Demon Black said, stopping several feet away. "Your power is pitiful compared to mine."

  Always with the arrogance. Son of a bitch.

  The spell I was crafting as quickly as I could was a Medusa Spell that would hopefully paralyze the demon completely, long enough for me to use a Destruction Spell on his rotten soul.

  Uttering the final few words of the spell, I cast it at Demon Black, focusing every ounce of conviction I had into it, causing Demon Black to suddenly begin to tense up on the spot. He tried to move his arms out from himself but couldn’t. His legs no longer worked either as I slowly came towards him, forcing the spell to do its work.

  "No!" Demon Black growled as his whole body froze up and went still like he was made out of stone.

  When I saw that he couldn’t even open his mouth to speak anymore, I halted the spell, satisfied that it had done its job.

  Another mighty roar came from up above, and a large section of the roof got ripped off in the violent maelstrom. Soon, the portal would give off so much energy that it would rip up anything that was beneath it, sucking it into that black hole, including me.

  "Time to end this," I said, standing close to the paralyzed Demon Black. "Time to erase you from existence completely. Time for you to pay for your sins, Father.” I practically spat that last word in his face, hating him so much at that moment that it all but consumed me, and in the process, stirred up the residual black magic that still lay deep within me. I could see in his eyes that he could see what was happening to me, and if he could have smiled, he probably would have.

  As I stared at him with hatred and malice in my eyes, I felt the dark magic grow within me, spreading through my body, demanding to be set free.

  It would be set free, because I was going to use it to destroy Demon Black, once and for all!

  53

  Suffering Defeat

  THE POWER FLOWING through me was terrific in its intensity, even more consuming than it was the last time I allowed it to come forth. It was like it was reacting to the other forms of dark magic around me, that which came from Rloth and Demon Black. Somehow it was feeding off those influences, wanting nothing more than to merge with them, and thus become stronger.

  As the black magic coursing through me filled every pore, I found myself conjuring a spell without even thinking about it, without ever having known the spell. It just seemed to come from nowhere, a force of intent fueled by hatred and rage which I began to direct at Demon Black, who was still paralyzed and couldn't do a thing about it. Utterly consumed now by the dark power flowing through me, I stepped right up to him and plunged my hands into his chest, gripping and pulling at the darkness contained within as I searched for his soul, intending to rip it out and obliterate it when I found where it was hiding.

  Then Demon Black did something I wasn’t expecting.

  He laughed, before grabbing both my arms and pulling my hands out of his chest with little effort, his green eyes gleefully staring at me the whole time, enjoying the look of shock on my face. “Did you really think you could beat me that easily, boy?” he said, forcing my hands down and holding them there, his horned head almost touching mine as he spoke. “You thought you could beat me with darkness? Boy, I am the darkness!”

  As Rloth seemed to roar in agreement, Demon Black's hands shot up and wrapped themselves around my throat. Then he lifted me off the ground and dangled me there—like a freshly caught rabbit—as he began to squeeze, his chitin hands cutting off the oxygen supply to my brain. I struggled against his grip, but with my legs kicking uselessly above the floor, there was nothing I could do except look at his demonic face as he squeezed the life out of me, knowing that I had failed and that he had won. Even the black magic still coursing through me seemed to laugh at my predicament, as if it had gleefully misled me, edging me toward the life threatening situation the whole time; which of course it had, as its desire for death never excludes its wielder entirely.

  Then, as I was seconds away from losing consciousness, a strange thing happened. A memory popped into my head, unbidden in the closing blackness. Not exactly a life flashing before my eyes moment, this was like someone had reached in from somewhere and purposefully planted that memory there for me to see.

  The memory itself was a long forgotten conversation I had with my mother when I was a teenager. She had come into my room one day and saw that I was reading a book on black magic, a book that my father demanded I read to get a more balanced view of magic. When my mother came and sat down—her long, wavy red hair spilling over the summer dress she was wearing, a placid smile on her face as usual—she said I had to be careful of such books because they had a habit of drawing you in with the promise of power, but at the expense of your
soul.

  “But the spells seem to be so much more powerful, the magic stronger than the magic we practice,” I said.

  My mother smiled patiently. “It only seems that way, August. Light magic will always defeat darker magic.”

  “Always?” I was skeptical, as I was about a lot of things.

  “If done right, yes, always.”

  “But wouldn’t it be better to fight dark magic with the same?”

  She took hold of my hand, and her blue eyes went serious. “You cannot fight hatred with hatred, or stand up against rage with rage. Darkness does not extinguish darkness, August, it begets it. Only light can banish the darkness. Always remember that.”

  My mother's kind face faded from view as the memory dispersed. But that was okay because I knew what to do now. Or something inside me knew what to do the whole time, some kernel of light in the very core of my being that seemed to activate, like it had been waiting on me to connect with it, to trust in its light.

  Despite being nearly dead a moment ago, my consciousness returned all at once. At the same time, a warm light spread fast around my body, infiltrating my entire being as it canceled out every bit of the black magic that had overcome me.

  My mother was right. You can’t fight hatred with hatred, and you can’t fight darkness with darkness.

  When this realization sunk in, my body relaxed all at once. All tension was banished and a comforting lightness of being took over.