Our hands grabbed the woman’s arms. Soft flesh pressed against our chest. She squirmed against the hold. Our body pinned her to the wall. Heat flooded places I didn’t like thinking about. I struggled to push away, but my useless mind garnered no respect from my flesh.
Stop this. It’s wrong.
Wicked laughter grated along my spine.
“Stop.” The girl whimpered.
Our mouth covered hers. Our lips devoured the silky skin trembling beneath them. Our tongue shoved her lips apart. She tasted like peppered beef. I heard my heart pulsing in my ears. Another groan rumbled through our chest.
Pleasure battered me. I tried to close my eyes, except they wouldn’t obey. Sensations tumbled like gallivanting children. Forbidden feelings stroked every nerve, heating my blood. Our body forced the woman onto a pallet in the darkest corner of the room.
Please. Stop this.
The demon’s grunts of ecstasy mocked me. My mind huddled into a tiny ball, pressing far away from the sensuality.
I squeezed my mental eyes closed and imagined myself falling into the crater and plunging through eternal darkness. Down, down, down. Until only nothingness remained.
Dust swirled around me. My lungs protested with a wrenching cough. Who cared? Not me. The demon gorged on food, drink, violence, and sex at every opportunity, but I refused to feel any of it. As soon as he interacted with people, I confined myself to the darkest recesses of my mind. I imagined tempered steel surrounding my consciousness. Somehow, I barricaded myself away. And yet, each day made me less human, more like the abhorrent Inhio.
Central Rogue River teemed with activity. Wagons rattled past. Horses whinnied. Mules swished their tails. People crowded around us. Hope swelled in my chest, but I stamped the dangerous ember into oblivion. Maybe the demon would leave me for one of them.
Only if this body dies.
I cringed as his hateful voice vibrated through my head. Dying sounded better all the time. Did I really want another human to suffer these same horrors? I had lost track of the days, but my perspective had aged a lifetime.
If I ever get out of this.
You will be dead.
Inhio laughed. Fragrances from the bakery drifted toward us. I was a thief, a murderer, and a rapist. Shudders tossed the meager contents of our stomach upward. Inhio shoved our palm against the offending organ. Our eyes glazed over.
Stop sniveling, weakling. Give me complete control and I will end your misery.
I erected my shield as he pounded spikes of pain into my consciousness.
“Scisco!”
My ears perked. Inhio twisted our body around and fixed our eyes on the bulky man pushing toward us. Breaking free of the crowd in the nearest doorway, he loomed over me. His rolled sleeves exposed beefy forearms mottled with tiny burns and scratches, and his broad shoulders swaggered with each step. His brown eyes, ringed with purple, proclaimed his lack of sleep. Had his hair been so gray before?
Strong fingers gripped my wrist. “Where have you been?” His eyes searched my face. “MJ told us you—”
The moment my vacant expression declared the truth, a muscle leapt in his cheek. “I hear The Exokint are on the west end of town.”
The Exokint? A vague recollection clamored for attention in my muddled thoughts. Concentrating took too much effort, gave Inhio too much access.
“Let’s get home. Get you cleaned up and those cuts tended.”
His grip tightened, and he dragged us down the street.
I tried to make my mouth form words. Leave me alone, I wanted to scream.
Instead, Inhio curled our lips into a smile. You care for this person. Hurting him will give me great pleasure.
I flung myself away from the demon’s threats. He would do it. If I lowered my mental guard, I could see the faces of those he had already wounded and killed. People we had hurt with my hands, fists, and body.
The crowd parted for my father. A man moving with purpose garnered a certain respect, even in the uncivilized West. The slam of a door drew the demon’s attention, but my father held us prisoner with his mighty grip. He tugged us along, one step behind him.
Father stopped beside the wash barrel outside the wide doorway into his smithy. Our hands plunged into the water, splashed the lukewarm liquid over my face, and sucked a few swallows to wash away the dust lining our throat.
Home. I wish I could stay.
I wish to destroy.
I pushed against the demon’s bonds, trying to make my body flee. His laughter crashed down like a landslide. Hatred welled inside my chest, expanding, demanding release.
Your anger tantalizes me. Unleash it. I want to savor it.
With effort, I released the tension. He wielded emotions like a hunting knife. Sensory input and passion fed him, strengthened him more than a gigantic feast. I shoved his presence away, but Inhio thrust my will across the inside of my skull, laughing as it crumpled against the grief piled there.
“Get inside. I’ll have Robin bring you clean clothes.”
Robin. My aunt.
Inhio licked his lips and rubbed his hands together. Anticipation swelled low in our abdomen. I tried to push it back, kicking my heels against it and screaming. Our body followed Father through the back door, while the acrobatics in my mind fought another futile battle.
Robin gasped, hands covering her parted lips.
Delicious lips.
“Where did you find him?” Eyes the color of mossy rocks in a streambed studied me with compassion.
She wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist, and tossed her long red braid over her shoulder. My aunt had cared for me after sickness claimed my mother. Although only five years older than me, she was sought after by many young men.
I will lick that pale skin and bite those freckles. Those long sleeves will be the first things I rip to shreds.
Our heart banged against our ribs. Our breath rasped in our ears and throat.
Leave her alone.
Inhio leaned toward her, breathing deeply.
She stepped back, hand pressed over her heart. Shame welled in me as our gaze dropped to her chest, which shuddered from her accelerated breaths.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“A demon. Get him cleaned up and we can take him to the river.”
She nodded. “To the Exokint.”
She opened the door to the small room off the kitchen. My room. Her hips swayed. Blood rushed like a swollen river into my lower body.
Not her. Please. Don’t do this. I beg you to leave her alone.
I cowered back into the corner of my prison, wishing I could shut my eyes. My body moved forward.
Give in and I will leave this one.
Sobs rattled my mind. I hated the traitorous desires of my flesh. The demon stripped away pretense and showed me what a horrible person I was.
A hand dropped onto my shoulder.
“Help me carry the buckets.”
Father expected our body to bring water from the well. In my room, the metal tub scraped along the floor. The sound flayed my eardrums.
Desire bubbled through me, a driving force aching for release. This constraining hand meant nothing. We threw it off and stepped toward the room where Robin and the tub awaited.
Father’s hands clamped down on our shoulders again, causing us to wince. The lust filling my gut turned vinegary.
Don’t touch me, human.
Our body raised a hand to strike my father’s face. He stepped aside and blocked the punch. Bone slapped against flesh. Sounds from my room ceased. With a grunt, Father captured our wrist with a towel.
I kicked against Inhio. He twisted, smashing an elbow into my father’s side. I screamed for him to stop. Pressure increased on our wrists. Fumbling, grunting, and tussling around the kitchen we went. I howled, unable to follow the progress.
A thud. I lay face down on the wooden planks of the floor. Pain arced through m
y back. Father wrenched my arms behind me, pulling them as high as my shoulder blades. Fire raced through every nerve along my spine.
“What on earth?”
Robin’s voice penetrated the haze of pain.
“Looks like we’ll have to wait to clean him up.”
She sniffled. Was she crying for me? After the evil this filthy body had intended against her?
I will have her. I will kill you. You cannot stop me. Inhio’s threats screeched through my mind.
I focused on the feel of the wood against my cheek. Onions and garlic stewed with chicken nearby. I blocked out everything but the warm scent of home.
Back outside, Father shoved me against the workbench, twisting our arms in front of me. Shackles lay in the center of the dusty surface.
Our body twisted, wrenching against Father’s iron grip. With a sledgehammer, he sealed one of the cuffs over our wrist. An animalistic howl echoed through the shop, the terrifying sound of a wounded wolf from my very own throat. Our body jerked away from Father. The hammer smashed against our forearm.
Pain sliced through me. The bone bent downward. Another crush of the hammer and the second cuff secured our other wrist. I squirmed, screaming at the fiery pain shooting up the broken arm. Our body thrashed against the metal, gouging and chafing until blood trickled onto the black shackles.
“I don’t want to hurt you, son.” Sorrow stood in his eyes. Inhio lifted the chains and flung them toward my father’s head. He jerked away, but the metal grazed his cheek.
Father’s calloused hands clamped my wrists together. His teeth gritted as he hammered the links onto a rung overhead. We used these hooks for finished pieces waiting to be picked up after manufacture or repair. Now, my body—a demon’s tool—hung limply by the door.
Inhio raged. His bellows echoed inside my mind. He threw our body against the wall, twisted our arms against the metal restraints. The broken bone throbbed, but I hardly noticed over the agony of his fury.
“Be still.” Father’s voice trumpeted over the noise in my head.
Hatred oozed through me. Inhio glared at my father through my own eyes.
“Fight me and I will shackle your legs, as well. And drag you to the river.”
If Father said it, he meant it. He might be a man of few words, but his integrity made tempered steel look like paper. Why hadn’t I wanted to follow in his footsteps? What a fool I had been.
My body sagged against the chains.
You do not win, human. I will escape. And you will die.
Father turned away, closing the door. Twilight fell over the work area.
Please let me die.
Inhio laughed me to scorn.
Never before had the river seemed so far away. Inhio hopped in front of a four-horse team pulling a wagon loaded with barrels of foodstuffs. Father jerked on the chain at the last moment, sending our bodies toppling in the street.
Every open fire beckoned to the demon. By the time the riverside market came into view, my bloodied hands and arms wore flaming welts from the coals. Burns burned. Unquenchable heat ate through my flesh. Tears streamed from my eyes, while inhuman laughter boomed in my head and out of my mouth. Fiery shame devoured my soul.
Would The Exokint still be at the river? Would they be able to help me? If not, I was doomed to live as a prisoner in my own body. So much for traveling to other regions to learn a new trade, see the fantastic machines people whispered about, and live an independent life. Independence: as unreachable as the stars.
See how I can destroy this body.
But that’s stupid. It’s your ticket to experiencing life and freedom from the pit. Hurting me is counterproductive.
I remembered my own stupidity, traveling to the crater to prove myself to MJ, to my father. And look where that got me. Has my pride caused just as much destruction as this demon?
Pain is part of living. It makes the pleasure all the more delightful.
If a shadow inside your soul can shudder, mine did. Inhio’s overwhelming pleasure came with brutality and another’s pain, and it degraded me. I didn’t want to revisit those encounters. Would I ever forget the cries of distress and anguish I caused? Or would they haunt me forever?
Salt and fish scented the air. Hawkers called out the benefit of their wares—everything from fresh trout to hand-woven rugs. The largest booths sold vegetables and cloth imported from other regions, things people here couldn’t grow.
Hunger growled in my stomach at the aroma of baking bread and sizzling fish. Vendors prepared some of the latest catch, enticing people to stay longer at the market and enjoy a fresh meal. These used to be my favorite places to find food. Now the thought of Inhio snatching up the fish and forcing his violence on the innocent people nearby made me quiver.
My father yanked the chain when my body drifted toward the woman selling fresh loaves of bread. Inhio hissed. Two men passing us gawked and sidled away, as much as the press allowed. I noticed more whispers, stares, and outright pointing as we exited the marketplace. Inhio gritted his teeth, snarling and snapping at anyone who came close, widening the space around us.
I am fearsome. When I am free of these chains, I will show these humans how right they are to be in awe of me.
My consciousness shrank away from the ugliness the demon envisioned. If I had to participate in such wickedness, my soul would be forever tainted.
Please let The Exokint be at the river.
Strange words and voices raised in song rode a sudden breeze to my ears. Inhio struggled against the chains. Unable to leverage sideways movement, he threw our body at Father’s back. Father avoided the collision and our body catapulted toward the ground. The chain tangled, catching me across the throat, stopping my descent. Heat from smooth rocks forming a fire pit scorched across my face.
Our fingers curled like a claw, reaching to the side. They clutched a jagged stone, pressing it into our palm. Nothing good would come from it. I ordered the hand to release the rock. Futility. Like the other million times I tried to take control of my actions.
Father pulled my body upright, stepped closer to the group of people. Two men wore pale robes and turbans: The Exokint. Others sang and danced around the two demon hunters. Several women in pale gray robes, white kerchiefs swaddling their heads and shielding their faces, prayed loudly in the foreign tongue, hands raised toward the violet sky.
The dark-eyed Exokint stepped forward, his gaze pinned on my face.
Not you. Leave me alone.
The sharp rock cut across my left arm, just above the cuffs. I screamed in pain, but Inhio groaned with pleasure. An inhuman shriek escaped my lips and halted the singing, dancing, and prayers.
“He was in the mountains,” my father said. “After several weeks, I found him wandering the streets.”
Inhio had slashed three horizontal marks on my left arm. A makeshift knife in our left hand, he lacerated the other arm. Dizziness and nausea meant nothing to him. My screams faded to keening, and I huddled into my safe corner, preparing to erect my shield of steel.
“Demon, I adjure you in the name of the Most High Ruler of the Universe, come out of this boy.”
Inhio dug his fingers into my mind, squeezing me, as if hanging on for dear life. He chanted, “No. I will not,” in a constant refrain.
I watched his shadowy form lengthen toward the front of my head. My expectation swelled toward hope. He clawed into my brain, metal stakes gouging into my scalp.
Nothing happened. Once the demon realized this, he screamed with laughter. Our body yanked the chain, coated in red from our blood, nearly tearing it from my father’s grasp. We threw it toward the demon hunter who stood only a few steps away.
The light-eyed Exokint tossed a hook over the chains, capturing them. Fury radiated from his features. He spoke in the strange language of The Exokint, but somehow I heard the words in my own tongue. An identical command for Inhio to leave my body.
Again, the demon cl
enched against the brainstem where his coiled, black form ruled. His misty presence quivered but remained firmly attached.
I curled my mind and soul into a cocoon. Inhio’s glee clanged like a city of bells inside my skull. It was over. Even The Exokint had no power over the evil spirit tormenting me.
“If we knew its name,” the first man said.
My father shook his head, reaching to wrap a length of cloth over my bleeding arm. The arm jerked out of his grasp. The rock-knife slashed across my opposite arm. A wave of agony slammed me but, compared to the mental anguish of losing hope, it barely registered.
“The boy hasn’t spoken a word since I found him.”
“A dumb spirit then,” said a bystander.
“Or your son refuses to yield completely to the devil.” The light-eyed Exokint peered at me, searching my face when my eyes darted from him.
“Can you do nothing? The demon will kill my son’s body with his continual abuse.”
The hunters shared a look.
“We can take him to General Son-hi.”
Not that one.
The screeching overwhelmed me. My soul curled into itself, huddled in the corner, and I imagined the steel shield. The miserable battering from the demon would drive me crazy otherwise.
“How far?” My father tried to wrap my bleeding arm again while the light-eyed man pulled the captured chain taut, restraining my movement.
“Several hours by boat.”
In light of the fiend’s reaction, I could tell he feared General Son-hi. Perhaps a cure awaited. I hid rather than hope.
My lungs burned. The terror of being buried in water tightened my chest further. The demon lusted after my helplessness. Water filled my mouth and nose. For the third time in as many hours, two men pulled our body from the river, a fish on a hook. Throwing us over the side of the vessel amused Inhio.
Boats offered the fastest and most reliable transportation in the West, but I despised traveling on the water. The Rogue River, a wild beast camouflaged in liquid, dominated every craft. Hidden rocks grounded overloaded barges and smashed those unfortunate enough to be caught in an angry swirl of waves. The only good thing the river provided was power to run our generators.
In the Beginning (Anthology) Page 10
