Existence: A Dark Paranormal Fantasy (The Devilgod Series Book 1)

by S. C. Lewis

  I threw the coat over my built figure and dressed for the weather, taking the leather gloves from inside the trench’s pockets and putting them on. I ordered the big man to bring the car around. The clumsy fellow ordered another bouncer to bring the Lincoln, tossing him the keys, and then followed me out the door and down the Cathedral steps.

  They stopped at the bottom of the steps as the shiny, black Lincoln came around the side of the parking lot. The air was blowing against my pale face, strewing the long bangs of my hair over my forehead. The cold weather made my cheeks rosy. It never bothered me much. I enjoyed it far more than the hot weather Texas had to offer. I stood at the bottom of the cathedral steps waiting as the Lincoln came to stop in front of me.

  The driver got out of the car and walked around it, towards Ralph, who was already standing beside me, shivering uncontrollably. I caught the driver nudging the security director as he opened the door of the car for me. I slipped in, then stopped, resting my hands on the door halfway out of the car. I glanced back at the two men, who froze suddenly at my gaze.

  “Head down Westheimer; then go to Richmond after that,” I ordered, disappearing into the car without another word.

  Ralph closed the door, giving the other employee a harmless glance, then a wrinkled smile. I assume they knew exactly where I was headed. It wasn’t a surprise to any of them; I frequented those places. Made them keep it a secret, and though I went there a lot, I never stayed long. Sure, I always left in a rush, and afterwards was angry for some reason. Or so they assumed.

  Ralph climbed into the Lincoln’s driver’s seat and buckled his seat belt. He put the car in drive and sped away, with me silently seated in the back of the vehicle.

  14

  The Return

  The true test of anyone’s worth as a living creature is how much he can utilize what he has.

  The place was crowded with empty take-out cartons of food. Pizza boxes filled with half-eaten crusts lay on the coffee table and on top of the couch. The joint looked like a tornado had recently stormed through it; only certain familiar, homely pieces of furniture indicated that it had been a residence at one time or another, under better circumstances.

  Lucas slowly crawled from underneath the empty containers, where he had overturned a couch, using it as a blanket the night before. He propped the couch up slightly, so it resembled an open coffin, then crawled from underneath, yanking his hand back at the slightest touch of sunlight. He shrieked; but once conquering his fear, he seemed to leap from underneath, avoiding the sun flowing from the windows of his living room. He stumbled to his feet, racing in the blinding sunlight to close the curtains; succeeding, he finally collapsed on the side of the wall.

  He hadn’t shaven in two days, nor showered, nor could he remember the last time he had eaten. But he wasn’t at all hungry and hadn’t thought much about eating until he glanced about his house and noticed the boxes scattered on the floor.

  The taste of blood was still lingering in the back of his throat, and only when he licked his dry lips was he reminded of it. He could even smell it on himself. His new work shirt was covered in blood, and he wasn’t sure how it had gotten there. He wanted to lick it, hungrily taste it, but he could only smell it, and he put his face against the shirt, slavering and drooling.

  He suddenly stopped as a sound at the other end of the room eagerly drew his attention. A shadow dashed from the corner of his eyes, but when he looked, only a dining chair sat at a distance from him among the thrown furniture.

  Again, a sound drove him intensely wild. He listened raptly before looking back across the living room, where the single chair still sat.

  A shadow fell over the chair, and at once he began to crawl on his knees towards it. He stopped again and looked away; something had scared it off. No, it was there that he sensed it. He glanced back at the chair, and this time saw it.

  Upon the head of the chair, perching like a bird, was a figure with a long cloak. Ghostly white hair draped over its head, and its white, oval eyes brightly sparkled down at Lucas from where it sat. From the folds of its grimace two double canines wickedly smiled down at him, greeting him.

  “Please, let me die. Please, I can’t take it. I’m so thirsty. So…so thirsty. I need to drink,” Lucas softly stated, his voice quavering as he knelt before the form.

  It clasped its hands together, still crouched upon the top of the chair in a birdlike perch. It gazed down at Lucas, and there was sympathy in its white eyes for him, but there was also a growing urgency.

  “I need you,” the pale figure hissed from between blood-stained lips. “And once you’ve served your purpose, I will grant you anything.”

  “But it hurts,” Lucas mumbled; then he lowered his head and began to weep helplessly.

  At once, the form leaped from out of the chair and landed in front of Lucas. It grabbed the terrified young man by his shirt and lifted him off his feet. It took him in its embrace, cutting its own throat with one long, horrible fingernail, and pressed Lucas’s lips against the wound.

  “Drink, then,” the figure said, patting Lucas’s head like a mother feeding her thirsty infant.

  Lucas tried to refuse, though knowing he longed for it. Knowing he was enslaved by it, he resisted until he could no longer, and then drank eagerly.

  The blood rushed into his mouth like a warm reward, filling him with passion, and an intoxicating feeling overcame him. He saw himself running through a tunnel, hands reaching for him from all directions, ghostly faces kissing him through the air. But still he drank hungrily; he didn’t understand any of the images.

  He saw winged figures flying in purple and red skies, saw a fiery abyss open wide to greet him, and viewed the ruins of an ancient labyrinth. Saw black oceans, planets, and stars, and strange crafts he had never seen before roaming the blackest skies. Saw men in foreign military uniforms he had never seen on earth. Saw worlds he had never seen before, and things he never even knew existed.

  In a strange fortress over and past the clouds, a red-haired princess and a tired old man in elegant robes danced in a crowd of rich spectators. When the image changed, he saw himself being nailed to a cross. Saw cowardly peasants scatter, and giant tanks of steel crush and leave lifeless bodies on a burning planet. Saw Roman soldiers marching into war, empires burned to the ground, and others rising. Saw weird metallic creatures, finally saw Death and looked into its eyes, and in their ebony centers he saw Amael’s youthful blurry image, dressed in an elegant robe with long, black hair covering his head and shoulders, looking back at him full of wonder. He drank as all the images resolved into one thing alone. Then, he screamed.

  15

  Reality

  Sophia

  I awakened and sat up immediately and began to cry. Realizing the reality I was now in. I had awakened from yet another nightmare, sweat draped my brow as I wiped it away. I glanced around the room, feeling a shiver race up my spine. All alone in the large library, I found refuge among the literature surrounding me. The placed looked creepy, but I would rather be here than upstairs or anywhere else.

  I looked down at a table; there were a few book piles scattered in front of me. Sarvakk, my first novel, lay open invitingly. I picked up the book, feeling over the glossy cover, then opened it, and scanned through its pages.

  I read through the Prince’s part, the character I’d treasured. Had he been real in some way? Had I put my own memories in the pages of my novel, and not known this? Why did I doubt who I was all of a sudden? Was its Seth’s words? And why all the questions?

  I reread the part between the Prince and my beloved. An image of myself or another person existing in a past long ago forgotten, or totally abandoned?

  What had gone through my mind when I had written this book? The thoughts, the words had just filled themselves in as if they had already happened. It felt real and right, as though a hand had led me to write it all down.

  These characters weren’t just creations of me from some deep-rooted imaginat
ion. No, they all felt complete, and real! It was as if they had been there, breathing down my neck as I typed every single letter down, talking to me from somewhere deep inside, whispering about each passage, each incident and event that had taken place in their lives.

  I loved the character of the Prince. I imagined being his love, Sabelle, clinging in his arms, protected by his powerful being forever and always. It brought a smile to my face, rereading the character’s words to Sabelle. His devotion, his love, and finally his death, all for her! It was like Nathan and I, devoted in a love, but separated by duties. It shouldn’t have been that way.

  A long sadness I couldn’t explain enveloped me; something was missing. I hated that Seth’s words rang with a sense of truth. There were feelings I couldn’t explain, dreams that I could understand. And the idea that he had these same dreams and feelings made me question my identity. I thought of talking to Ramiel. I knew very little of my past, only of what he had revealed, which wasn’t much. He had adopted me and brought me here, raised me as a child, then brought Nathan here in the same manner. It was strange how I couldn’t remember quite a lot of those days. The only thing he claimed he had not anticipated was us to fall in love. It made me question whether he wanted it to be. He never came between it, but now I questioned his behavior.

  However, the uneasiness and confrontation with Seth made me question everything. I held the book in my arms and closed my eyes. I wished the characters were real, I wished my Prince was real. I prayed for him to take me from all this confusion. Nathan consumed my mind now; I hoped he would return soon, like he had promised.

  16

  Playtime

  Seth

  Define Good and Evil…

  The girls arrived at the hotel room just as I requested. They were the prettiest girls the place had to offer. They always told me that. I was their best customer. They usually gave me a blowjob, then left; I never had sex with them. But for some reason this time it seemed different. I knew it right away when I opened the door and saw them standing in front of me. One of the girls was a blonde, and the other a beautiful brunette with long hair, like Sophia. In fact, she resembled Sophia so much I felt myself harden immediately. I wanted to send the other one away, but decided to add a little spice to the foreplay.

  The girls entered the room, but I didn’t wait. I grabbed the brunette and began kissing her madly. I groaned, carrying her to the bed as the blonde followed, getting undressed.

  No sooner had they entered the bedroom than I was on top of her. I was surprised and excited how much she resembled Sophia; it excited me as I watched her move beneath me. The blonde came to the side of the bed, but I pushed her aside; but hungrily went at her friend, instead.

  “Your name is…Sophia,” I breathed down at the brunette.

  “Whatever you like, baby!” the brunette obediently agreed.

  I removed my white silk shirt and hungrily pinned her down, kissing her neck. The brunette wiggled with pleasure as I rolled my tongue down her neck, covering her in kisses.

  “What’s my name, sugar?” the blonde asked, eagerly trying to get my attention.

  I smiled back at the blonde, who sat by the side of the bed. She returned the smile, edging closer. Her firm breasts were revealed through the low-cut tight blouse she wore. She slowly pulled up her skirt and exposed her pale thighs to me. She wasn’t wearing any panties, and she began to rub her sex as I looked on. Of course, I wasn’t really impressed.

  “You just sit and watch. I don’t have any use for you,” I rudely snapped at her.

  She frowned, but obeyed and took a seat a distance from the bed, pouring herself a glass of champagne on the table next to her chair.

  I undressed the brunette, slowly touching and feeling her fair skin. She moaned as I came down over her, kissing her breast softly. The girl returned my kisses, helping me unzip my pants. I suddenly stopped her hand and pulled away frustrated.

  “No, that’s not right. Resist me,” I angrily demanded.

  The girl seemed confused. I stood at the side of the bed, holding my head in my hands, hoping not to lose my hardon. I pushed back my hair in frustration and ordered her to her feet. The brunette obeyed, standing in front of me in her underwear.

  “We’re gonna do this…again.”

  She naively nodded.

  “Slowly undress in front of me,” I ordered.

  I stepped back to watch, taking my pants off and tossed them to the blonde, who with a subtle frown caught them, and set them aside.

  I pulled my briefs down, and then tossed them aside as well. I stood, naked watching the brunette slowly remove her red lace bra. At least she had worn the right color bra, I thought. I loved the color red. I was growing hard again, and the smile on my face spread as she pulled down her lace panties.

  “Good. Very good,” I lustfully hissed.

  She smiled at me, touching herself as she did so.

  “Don’t look at me, just do it,” I ordered, rubbing my hard dick.

  I groaned whispering Sophia’s name. I licked my lips all along, watching her with growing anticipation.

  “Yes! Very good!”

  The blonde rose and wandered over to where I stood. She boldly caressed my bare chest, and erect pecker.

  “Let me do that for you, hunk. I’m very good at this.”

  I grabbed her hand and angrily twisted it, then moved it away.

  “Wait your turn! I’m not ready for you, yet.”

  She painfully squirmed and pulled away from me, stumbling back to her seat where she poured another glass of champagne, and gulped it.

  The brunette dropped her lace panties on the bed.

  “Turn around and let me get a good look at you,” I anxiously ordered.

  She obeyed, hungrily looking back at my erect cock.

  “I said, don’t look at me!” I snapped, stroking myself.

  Her eyes immediately dropped to the floor, and she almost seemed bashful. She was innocent and helpless like Sophia. She was anything but, I thought.

  “Yes. Now, turn away from me. When I come to you, resist me.”

  She obeyed and turned her back to me. I slowly walked from behind and immediately grabbed her waist. The strain of myself pushed against her buttocks. I moved my hands over her breasts, excitement raced throughout me.

  She nervously shook in my arms, which greatly pleased me. I had her face me, grabbing her face as she did. She fought and resisted me as I kissed her.

  “Yes,” I hissed, devouring her lips slowly, “Resist…Sophia! Resist.” I pushed her onto the bed, immediately dropped over her, and forced my dick inside her. I wanted to relive the moment; I don’t know why. It felt right up until the moment it was over.

  The girl’s soft whispers overcame my moaning.

  “No! Stop…No this can’t happen!” She cried again taking me back to the moment in her room. I gasped and exhaled her name in my breath.

  “Yes, that’s right…”

  I couldn’t stop myself each gasp Sophia’s name left my dry mouth. The pleasure grew madly inside me, crawling at the very being of me until in a sheer cry I knew I would have to have the real one. I cried out in ecstasy.

  I rose and ordered her to wear the short red dress I had brought with me. I instructed her to dance with me until we had sex again.

  “No, this can’t be,” she mumbled, as my furtive whisper had ordered her to say each time. She didn’t question this strange perversion. I suppose she had seen far worse things in her line of work. She seemed to like it.

  The blonde finally joined us. I ordered her to get on her knees and to give me a blowjob. I didn’t waste time with her, though I had ample seconds of the brunette. I didn’t really want Sophia on her knees, sucking my dirty rod.

  The blonde wasn’t pleased. But hadn’t it been she who said she was good at it?

  I lay back on the bed, ordered the brunette to sit on my face, and began drinking the nectar flowing from her ebony-chocolate cunt.

  I came
repeatedly, once again pleasing the illusion of Sophia. She moaned as I held her waist, pressing my lips on the pink flower of her pussy. And when it was all over, I laid beside her as she caressed the locks of my dark hair. I took in a breath, and felt her warm skin alongside me as she stroked my cheek. I never wanted the moment to end. I had only wished it was the real Sophia that lay beside me, not some stupid copy of her.

  “What’s your name?” I whispered to her.

  She boldly replied, “Sophia.”

  I smiled. “No, your real name?” I asked again.

  She seemed to ease and take a breath. I rose to sit on the bed and gazed at her. Her brown eyes found me staring back at her spellbound.

  “Laura,” she said. “Laura Wat—"”

  I stopped her. “That’s all I need.”

  She nodded. She seemed possessed by me as she danced in my charm, almost in a hypnotic state. Her face took on a color as I cupped her cheek in my hand leaning to kiss her.

  “I’d like to see you again,” I said.

  She gave me a tiny smile and answered, “Okay.”

  I paid the women as they got dressed, slipping an extra two hundred in Laura’s panties as I devoured her obedient lips eagerly. She was perfect for the moment.

  After they disappeared out the door, I walked over and grabbed a glass of champagne from the table by the bedside. Now, if only I could have the real thing. I drank feeling the sweet nectar run down my throat.

  Why did she refuse me, and not believe me? I knew she felt it, just as I had. The connection and the fantasy we were both trapped in. I was the only one that understood the dreams she kept hiding from others. I knew she had them and had been hiding them. When I started having them, they were hard to accept. I thought I had gone mad, that I was some sick fiend. Then, everything became clear. I just wanted the same for her. I needed her, and she needed me. We needed each other.