by N M Thorn
~ Damian Blake ~
Damian walked through the hallway toward the entrance, barely paying attention to his surroundings. Silently cursing the Destiny Council for putting him in this dangerous and precarious situation, he tried to set his mind on the upcoming meeting with the mysterious Head of the Arizona House, but all he could see were problems, holes, and potential downfalls.
It wasn’t the first time he had to carry out an order he didn’t understand fully or agree with, but never had he felt so helpless and vulnerable starting on a new mission. Since becoming a Destiny Enforcer, he had always felt the power of the Destiny Council behind him, facing any foe—no matter how scary and dangerous—from a position of strength. Now, he was about to come face to face with an unknown evil, and his position was that of weakness.
Walking a few steps behind Cole, Damian glanced at his brother’s back, and his fingers formed tight fists of their own accord, his hands unusually clammy. He hadn’t lied when he said he was just as much emotionally compromised as Cole. His brother has been his biggest weakness since they were kids, and now, so many years later, nothing had changed. If anything, their bond had become stronger. For Cole, not only would he take the shirt off his body to keep him warm, but he would give his life in exchange for his brother’s safety. He knew this, but there was nothing he could do about it.
Pushing the troubling thoughts away, Damian sped up to catch up with Ricardo and Cole in the lobby. But as soon as they reached the door, the same butler, who had escorted them to Ricardo’s office earlier, emerged from the shadows, blocking their way out. He inclined his head and crossed his hands behind his back.
“Mr. Torres,” the butler said calmly, but the iron tones in his voice left no doubt—he wasn’t here to serve. “Did you and your friends make your decision?” A grimace of superiority settled on his face as he glanced at Cole, but as he turned to Ricardo, his expression changed to icy contempt. “As you’re well aware, Mr. Amaris doesn’t like to wait. I suggest not to test his patience.”
Ricardo stiffened for a heartbeat, but before he could say anything, Damian put his hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
“We will meet with Mr. Amaris and hear him out,” he said dryly, staring down at the man. “As far as everything else, it’s between us and your master.”
A tight-lipped sneer crossed the butler’s face, and he opened the door with a barely noticeable bow.
“Your ride is ready. Please, follow me.” He headed outside toward a black limo with tinted windows parked on the driveway. Opening the passenger door for them, he gestured at it, a smile too sweet to be sincere appearing on his face. “Make yourself at home.”
Following Cole and Ricardo, Damian got into the limo and lowered himself onto a soft, leather seat. The vehicle had enough space to easily fit in at least three more people, but as soon as the butler shut the door, darkness engulfed the cabin, and his usual claustrophobia reared its ugly head, pressing on his mind. He groaned and closed his eyes, trying to deal with it, but no matter how hard he tried, the overwhelming feeling of being trapped sent his heart into a wild frenzy. As the vehicle took off, his fingers dug into the seat, cold sweat covering his forehead.
“Dima, I’m here. You’re fine. You know it’s just your claustrophobia. Open your eyes and look at me,” Cole’s voice sounded in his mind, demolishing the walls of rising panic in him.
Listening to his brother’s soft voice, Damian forced himself to breathe and cracked his eyelids open. Cole sat next to him, his eyes glowing in the darkness of the cabin. A wave of tranquility spread through him, and he exhaled a ragged breath.
“Did you use your glamor on me?” asked Damian.
Cole flicked his eyebrow and shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“I hate having you in my head…”
“You’re lost without me, doofus.” Cole tapped his brother’s shoulder but quickly sobered up. “Your claustrophobia is a real deal,” he muttered with a slight shake of his head. “Until now, I had no idea how it made you feel.”
“I hope the ride is not too long.” Damian bent forward a little to see Ricardo. “How far are we going?”
“Not far. Downtown Phoenix,” replied Ricardo through clenched teeth, his voice so tense that Damian had to do a double-take. Ricardo sat with his shoulders lifted, his face so pale, it was a sickening yellow.
“Is there anything you forgot to mention?” asked Damian quietly.
Ricardo flinched as if Damian had just slapped him. “No, Damian. I swear I told you everything,” he replied. “I’m just…” His voice melted into the soft hum of the engine, and he bowed his head. “What if you can’t do what he demands of you?”
He raised his eyes, his dark gaze pleading. Then he glanced forward at the raised partition between the driver’s area and the passenger cabin and took a ragged breath.
“Damian, I’m done,” he whispered barely audibly. “You have no idea what I had to do for that man last week… His every next request is worse than the previous one. I can’t do it anymore.” He swallowed, dropping his head. “I’m disgusted with myself to such a degree that I’d rather die than continue—” He cut himself off, his hands resting powerlessly on his lap.
Before Damian could answer, the limo came to a soft stop, and a heartbeat later, the butler opened the door, announcing that they had arrived. As soon as Damian stepped out of the car, his breath caught, and he cringed inwardly, feeling like a tiny mouse in front of a mousetrap. He stood in the middle of Downtown Phoenix, surrounded by high-rises—all glass and concrete.
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered, following the butler as he walked up the steps and headed across a small plaza paved with concrete tiles toward a tall building with mirrored windows reflecting a blue, cloudless sky.
Damian walked through a tall glass door and halted in a giant lobby in front of an elevator, his nerves stretched to the limit. As the door opened with a soft ding, he practically had to force himself to step inside. Feeling Cole’s cold fingers grasping his arm above the elbow, he snapped his head toward him.
“Hang in there, big bro,” Cole projected, giving him a barely visible nod. “I know you’re not going to enjoy what’s coming next.” Then he switched his attention to the butler, glowering down at him with unconcealed aversion. “Which floor?”
The butler glanced at him, and his eyes ignited with a menacing glow. “Twenty-four.” He stepped closer to the panel and pressed the button with the number twenty-four on it.
“Cole, I’ll be powerless there… Less than human. It’s too high above the ground.” Damian rested his back against the wall, clutching the railing with both hands. “I’ll do my best to hide my weakness, but we both know if push comes to shove...”
“If push comes to shove, I’ll fight for both of us,” Cole replied. “I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
And that’s exactly what scares me the most… Damian suppressed a sigh, giving a short nod to his brother.
The doors closed with a soft swoosh, and as the elevator took off, Damian closed his eyes and held his breath. Being confined in a tiny box, the panic of claustrophobia roared to life, but it wasn’t as bad as the overpowering weakness that settled in his body, increasing with each floor they passed. He felt as if he was standing at the top of Everest, worn out beyond his limit and deprived of oxygen. His knees trembled, and his heart thudded somewhere in his throat.
As the elevator came to a stop with a soft jerk, Damian groaned and pushed away from the wall, forcing the nausea down. He took one unsteady step forward, and the booth spun around him, his vision blurry. He caught Ricardo’s troubled gaze and chuckled with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“I hate elevators. This is one of the modern inventions I can never get used to,” he muttered and walked out the door, the floor slipping and wobbling under his feet, his body buzzing with weakness.
The butler rolled his eyes but said nothing and marched briskly along a wide hallway. He stopped in front
of a black door at the very end and placed his hand on the door handle. Turning toward Damian, he gave him an arrogant once-over, and a look of smug superiority appeared on his face.
He knows my supernatural identity. But how? A thought rushed through Damian’s mind, sending a jolt of unease through him.
“This is where I leave you,” the butler said, pushing the door open. “Mr. Amaris will see you in a minute.”
Damian crossed the threshold and came to a sharp halt, looking around in shock. He stood in the middle of a tiny room with a low ceiling. Between the three of them, there was barely enough space to turn around, and with his height of six-foot-four, he touched the ceiling with his head.
Everything inside was black. The walls were painted with matte black paint and the ceiling resembled a starless night sky. There were no windows, and the only source of light was a small, round lamp attached to the ceiling on his left, its faint fluorescent glow barely enough to reach the opposite wall.
Cole crossed the room and brushed the tip of his middle finger over the wall. “It’s a one-way mirror. Somebody is watching...” He smiled and waved at his dark reflection on the black surface of the glass.
“Ricardo, have you ever been in this office?” asked Damian.
“No,” replied Ricardo. “Usually, I meet with him in the underground facility where he keeps his captive fighters. I don’t really know its location, though. The only way I could get in and out was through a portal entrance located Downtown, but in a different building.”
Damian nodded. Now, he had no doubt that the Head of the Arizona House knew his supernatural identity and wanted him sufficiently weakened before the meeting. Between constantly spiking fits of claustrophobia and being at a significant distance from his element, he could barely keep an upright position, but he straightened his shoulders and put all his effort into projecting a calm and relaxed image for whoever was standing behind the black mirror. There were no chairs in the room, so Damian headed to the wall across from the mirror and rested his back against it, folding his arms.
No one talked, and since the room had neither windows nor a clock, time seemed to stand still. Damian wasn’t sure how long they had waited when the glass wall lit up with a deep ultramarine glow, and a pleasant female voice said, “Please, come in. Mr. Amaris will see you now.”
A small door Damian hadn’t noticed before opened next to the one-way mirror with a metallic click, but there wasn’t any light coming from the other side either. Damian approached the doorway first and raised his hand to stop Cole and Ricardo. Channeling his magic came with a significant effort, weakening him even more, but as soon as he opened his other sight, he was glad he did.
The space behind the small door felt like a dark void filled with nothing. The absolute emptiness glared at him from beyond the doorway, stretching its sinister tentacles to him, feeding on his energy like a hungry vamp. With a strangled groan, he staggered back, clutching at his throat.
“I have no idea what lies behind this door,” he said to Cole and Ricardo without looking at them. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say it’s a gateway into the Void.”
“I’m glad you know better. I didn’t sign up to be a schoolteacher for a C-minus Destiny Enforcer student,” a small voice grumbled in Damian’s head sarcastically. “The place behind this door is not a void, but it’s not of this world either.”
“The Void?” echoed Ricardo. “I remember my father talking about it when I was just a boy. It didn’t sound good.”
Damian nodded, gesturing for Ricardo to be quiet.
“Zhulik, do you know what this place is?” asked Damian. He thought for a moment and added, “Please, my friend, I need your help.”
“Aww… You do know how to be nice after all, Commander.” The gargoyle snickered in his mind. “Well, in this case, I’ll try to help. The place behind this door is”—Zhulik hummed as if searching for a better word—“a tiny, pocket dimension, and my guess is that it’s been created especially for you, Commander, since there is no elemental or magical energy there. It’s like a miniature version of the Dark Nav. You’re already weakened, so as soon as you cross the threshold, you’ll feel as if someone just punched you in the gut. But the worst part of it is that once inside, you won’t be able to summon me in case you need help.”
Dammit… Damian rubbed the back of his neck and turned toward Cole and Ricardo. “To make a long story short, behind this door, there is a mini-dimension that was created by the Head of the House or someone who works for him. I don’t know what we’re going to find there, but it can’t be any good. Ricardo, Cole—”
He met his brother’s eyes, but Cole shook his head no, and his face hardened. “Don’t even think about it. I’m coming with you.”
“I have no choice on the matter.” Ricardo shrugged. There was no fear in his eyes, just endless exhaustion.
“Here goes,” muttered Damian and stepped across the threshold.
As soon as Damian passed through the doorway, he felt as though all oxygen was sucked out from his lungs. He froze in place, gasping for air with his mouth open. His eyes widened, and he doubled up, pressing his hands to his stomach. Zhulik was right when he compared this place to the Dark Nav.
Throughout his long life, Damian had visited the Slavic realm of spirits and demons only once, but he could never forget how it had made him feel—powerless, despondent and lost. Deprived of all elemental energy, the Dark Nav was unfriendly to all beings of the Elements, feeding on their energy and life force until there was nothing left. Everything inside that dark realm was created to eradicate the desire to live, to fight, to survive.
“You’ll feel better as soon as you adapt to an environment deprived of the elemental energy,” a cold male voice sounded somewhere in front of him. “I’m sorry, but my safety is my highest priority. You’ll survive.”
“You’re sorry? I’m touched.” Damian straightened despite the lightheadedness and shortness of breath. Once the initial shock started to wear off, he forced himself to breathe in and look around. The only problem was, he wasn’t sure where he was.
He stood in a barely lit room, surrounded by hundreds of mirrors. He couldn’t say how many mirrors were there, but everything around him was reflecting. Even the floor was made out of a few large pieces of black mirror. Different shapes and sizes, they were positioned at various angles, creating endless corridors that ran in all directions, disappearing into the dark nothingness. A kaleidoscope of broken images, fragments of reflections, and flares of purple lights moving from one mirror to the next were mind-bending and eerie.
Damian spun around, searching for Cole and Ricardo. He could see their distorted and shattered reflections repeated in the mirrors over and over, but he had no idea how far his brother and Ricardo truly were.
Out of habit, he reached for his magic to open his second sight but found none. A loud guffaw followed his attempt, and the sound of this sinister laughter rushed over him like icy water, making him wince inwardly. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down.
“I assume you are Amaris, Head of the Arizona House,” he said, sounding as even as he could muster in the situation.
“Yes, I am. But it’s Mister Amaris to you,” replied the bodiless voice snidely. “And you are Damian Blake, a Child of Earth who’s commonly known in the supernatural circles as the Shadow Slayer.” He giggled as if he found the sound of Damian’s name amusing.
“Yes, I am, and now that we got that out of the way, stop playing your friggin’ games and tell me what the hell you want from us,” growled Damian.
“Mr. Blake, good manners can take you a long way,” the voice hissed, and every mirror in the room vibrated as though reverberating the sound. “First, you’re here because I wish you to be here. And believe me—if I didn’t want to speak with you, you’d never find me.”
“I believe that,” replied Damian with a nonchalant shrug. “So, if you brought us here, you obviously want something from us. What is
it?”
For a few seconds, the voice kept silent, and Damian started to wonder if the man had left. But just as he was going to call him, the voice spoke up again, sounding flat, almost as if he was bored.
“Second. From all of you, I want nothing. What I want is related to you only, Mr. Blake,” he said frostily. “I want you to run a little errand for me.”
“So I’ve heard,” replied Damian, folding his arms over his chest. “And what might this errand be that the all-powerful and mysterious Head of the Arizona House can’t do it himself?”
The voice snickered. “I can do it myself, alright. I just can’t be bothered,” he replied, not without a hefty dose of sarcasm in his voice. “So, what is it going to be, Mr. Blake? Yay or nay?”
Damian huffed, shaking his head. “First, you have to tell me what you want me to do, and then I’ll give you my answer.”
“No can do,” replied the voice. “My house—no pun intended—my rules. If you say yes, I’ll tell you what I need you to do. If you say no…” He cackled, his laughter too high-pitched compared to the deepness of his voice. “Well, the consequences will hurt in all the places that matter.”
Something clicked, the sound bouncing off of every mirror in the room. Then one of the mirrors lit up with a soft bluish light. For a heartbeat, the seamless chain of corridors and reflections was broken, and Damian could see his brother and Ricardo standing just a few feet away from him. He grabbed Cole’s arm, pulling him closer. The light was replaced with a photo of a dark-haired, dark-eyed man. Although Damian didn’t think he’d ever met him in person before, his face looked familiar. Cole gasped and took a step closer to the image.
“Mr. Adams, I believe you recognize this man?” asked the voice.
“Yes,” Cole whispered, staring at the image of the man in the mirror without blinking. “This is my maker, Ruslan.”
“Wonderful.” The voice tittered happily, and even though Damian couldn’t see him, he was positive the man was rubbing his hands in delight.
