Deceased Dora

by Claire Chilton

  “Which way?” Kieron shouted. There was no time for messing around. He needed to find Dora.

  He glanced down at her body and gasped.

  She was glowing golden.

  “What’s happening to her?”

  “Aww shit.” Lucian winced.

  “What?” Dora’s body was warm and glowed like the sun.

  “Okay, don’t freak out when—”

  Kieron hugged her tightly.

  It can’t be this eas—

  He froze as her body began to fade and disappear in his arms.

  No, no!

  No matter how tightly he tried to hold onto her, she evaporated into gold dust and disappeared.

  “Where is she? What happened!” He turned on Lucian with fire burning through his veins.

  “Fuck. Chill out. It’s okay. She’s just been processed, that’s all.” Lucian rolled his eyes. “Fucking admin, they never get it right.”

  “Processed?” Kieron asked.

  “When a higher being enters Heaven, they are processed differently. Angels don’t have to wait at the gates. They get their wings and get to work. It appears that Dora’s demonic body has been mistaken for an angelic being, so she’s probably being sent with her body to …” He trailed off with a look of shock on his face.

  “Where has she been sent?” Kieron ground out the words, trying not to strangle Lucian.

  Lucian winced. “Camp Angel.”

  “What the fuck is Camp Angel? Are they going to send my demon ass there?” Pooey gripped onto Kieron’s leg.

  “No, they probably only noticed Dora’s body because she was dead and in need of healing. This whole place has sensors all over it, so watch your fucking tempers here too. And er, Camp Angel is really lame.” Lucian narrowed his eyes.

  “Well, at least we know where to look for her,” Kieron said, determinedly striding down the tunnel.

  “This is going to suck,” Lucian muttered, following him.

  “This sucks more!” Pooey cried, jumping after them barefoot, trying to avoid golden puddles.

  Dora shifted uncomfortably on the hard plastic chair. She’d been waiting here for hours now. She glanced around the white room. It wasn’t just white. Everything in it was white.

  Talk about too much white space . She thought as she stared at the desks at the end of the long room. There were signs above them, which glowed golden with the words ‘Check-in Here’.

  The people behind the desks were stamping people’s arms as they queued to pass through the check-in area.

  She considered making a run for one of the desks to ask them what the fuck was going on, but shook her head. Last time she tried that, she’d been flung back into her chair by an invisible force.

  I need to get back to Kieron and the battle. What if they are in trouble?

  “Takes a while, doesn’t it, deary?” A croaky voice said to the left of her.

  She turned around to face a blue-skinned old woman.

  “I don’t even know what I’m waiting for,” she said.

  The older woman patted her on the knee. “Ah, the impatience of youth, not to worry, my dear, you ended up in the right place, and in a far better state than that guy.” She nodded to the other side of Dora.

  Dora turned to face the person on the other side of her. It was a man in a business suit with a hoover end stuffed up his nose.

  His nose was stretched to an impossible size to accommodate the hoover pole wedged into it, and blood dripped down his face onto his white shirt.

  He nodded and smiled at her. “I wisch theysh hurry ish up,” he gurgled.

  She offered him a sympathetic smile and nodded before turning back to the old woman.

  “Where are we?”

  “Limbo, honey, we’re outside the gates of Heaven. Oh lord!” She held her hand to her purple lips. “Don’t you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “You died, sweetheart. You’re going to Heaven.”

  Dora stared forward while she tried to process the information, but it just didn’t compute.

  How the fuck did I die? How the fuck did I get into Heaven?

  “I think there’s been a mistake,” she said.

  “Oh ho, looks like you’re right.” The lady nodded to a man in a white suit who was hurrying down the room towards them while staring directly at Dora.

  “They don’t send anyone down for a soul. We just wait in the queue.”

  She listened to the man’s white shoes clatter on the tiles as he rushed down the long room towards her.

  Uh oh, busted.

  He frowned when he reached her, then glanced down at the paper in his hands. After a moment, he shrugged. “You’re in the wrong place.”

  “I know,” she said. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

  “No you are not, but these things happen from time to time. Not to worry, we’re sending you back.”

  “Oh, that’s a relief.” She smiled. She had been concerned about being stuck in Heaven. It was the last place she belonged.

  “Are you ready to go home?” the man asked as he placed a hand on her forehead.

  She nodded and closed her eyes, looking forward to seeing Kieron and Pooey again.

  “Off you go then,” he said.

  A bright light flashed behind her eyes, making them snap open in shock.

  Her body jerked backwards through the wall, passing straight through it as if she was a ghost.

  She fell down into a glowing tunnel, crying out in panic as she fell into a shining white abyss. Her cry ended when she landed on a hard, wooden floor.

  She groaned and shook her head for a moment.

  “God, that fucking hurt!” she muttered.

  A foot rested on her back and pressed down.

  “Blasphemy! A million push-ups, recruit!”

  She peered back over her shoulder to see a massive angel standing over her. He wore a white uniform with gold plating on it. His muscles bulged under the uniform as he cracked a golden whip against his hand.

  “You’ve gotta be fucking shitting me.” She gaped at him.

  Where the hell am I?

  He cracked the whip near her face. “You’re a trainee warrior of the Lord, a recruit at Camp Angel. Act like it, you snivelling reptile!”

  She stared ahead. Through the bunker door, she saw an army of angels marching by in formation with white explosions going off in the distance behind them.

  “Shit!”

  CAN'T WAIT FOR CLAIRE CHILTON'S NEXT STORY?

  Let her know by leaving stars and telling her what you liked about

  DECEASED DORA

  in a review!

  NEW RELEASES

  To ensure you don’t miss Claire Chilton’s next book, sign up for her Newsletter, and you will get an email reminder on release day.

  WANT TO TALK TO OTHER FANS?

  Visit Facebook and join the discussion.

  Read the preview for Demonic Dora on the next page to read the first book in The Demon Diaries.

  * * *

  Do you want to read the preview?

  Read Chapter One

  Dora Carridine rested her Doc Martens on the wooden church pew in front of her and idly cleaned her nails with a combat knife. She watched the small film crew set up around the podium at the front of the church while her father, the Reverend Theodore Carridine, had his hair fluffed into angelic white fuzz by a stylist.

  She yawned.

  Another bible bashing show coming soon to a TV near you!

  She didn’t ask for much in life, but she’d greatly appreciate it if the studio would cancel her father’s embarrassing television show. She didn’t pray to deities. Surely if there were such things as Gods, they’d have listened when she begged them to burn her mother alive for making her wear a cardigan in the eighth grade.

  Dora had been a curious child, so when growing up in such a strict religious home, she’d tested out as many sins as she could. Lightning had never struck her down, she hadn't incurred the wrat
h of God and to be honest, if there was anyone up there watching, they didn’t give a crap what she did.

  “Now let us pray,” her father said into the microphone when he stood at the podium, his face solemn.

  Dora lowered her head and read the spell book in her lap. Images of demons and the blackest of magic filled the grimoire. She could barely read it.

  I so wish I’d taken Latin now.

  “Our father, who art …” Her father recited. The large congregation chanted with him.

  “… Who art embarrassing whenst he is on television,” Dora mumbled out of habit. Two devout parishioners spun around and glowered at her. “Hollowed be thy brain,” she added for their benefit and chuckled when they turned away from her in disgust.

  It was going to be a long show today, and she was already bored—beyond death. She glanced around the large church. People around her were praying with their eyes closed. Even her producer mother had her eyes shut and wasn’t watching the show.

  Time to get outta here.

  Dora shoved her spell book down the waistband of her red miniskirt and carefully lowered her feet off the pew. She slid the knife into the scabbard inside her boot before silently sinking down in her seat. She slipped onto the hard stone floor, rolling on all fours before she crawled through the narrow space between the pews. She sped up when she left the benches behind and was out in the open, scurrying toward the confessional boxes.

  She rested behind the dark mahogany box before peering back at the room. No one was watching her. They were all standing and preparing to sing a hymn. She stood up and walked into the alcove ahead, then climbed the stone staircase toward her room.

  She brushed the dust off the knees of her red and black striped pantyhose on her way up.

  Lazy ass cleaners should be crucified for the mess they left the place in.

  When she reached the top of the stairs, she turned left at the large organ pipes, heading up the narrow stone passage of a second staircase which led to her attic room.

  Dora’s room was pretty cool. It was inside the spire of the old church, offering her privacy from the rest of the world. She pushed open the ancient oak door. It made a loud, ominous creak—just how she liked it. The room was not decorated to her liking with baby pink walls and a matching carpet. The little princess room was her parents’ doing. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d spray painted blood-red pentagrams or black demon art on the walls of this room. Every time she came back from school, it was back to princess pink with decorative voile hanging over the bed and pink fluffy throw cushions on the furniture.

  Bile rose in her throat when she glanced down at the pink floral-print duvet. She swallowed and knelt on the floor at the end of her bed before pulling out the large white plastic sheet from beneath it. The sheet was actually the back of a Twister mat, but it worked just as well for a dark arts summoning circle. She had painted a black and red pentagram on it to put it to a darker use than it was intended for, meaning she had to ensure it was well hidden from her parents at all times.

  She shivered with excitement. Today was going to be her day. After years of trying and failing, she was finally going to cast a spell that would work. Despite years of failure, her inability to summon a demon hadn’t dimmed her enthusiasm. The Wicca group at the local magical supply store would be laughing at her on the other side of their white-light Earth-mother faces if she pulled this off.

  Dora was going to summon a demon, and not just a normal demon. No, she was going for a high-level demon that would be under her control.

  The first thing he’s going to do for me is make this room red.

  She placed six black candles around her makeshift summoning circle and lit them one by one. She put an ornate pottery bowl at the center of the circle and threw a mixture of herbs into it. Next, she pulled the knife out of her boot and made a small cut on her thumb with it. She watched her blood slowly drip into the bowl until there were six drops. Then she pressed her thumb against her leg. Once the cut had stopped bleeding, she dropped the knife and dragged her schoolbag over to her. She reached inside it, feeling for the small box in the bottom of the bag.

  The secret ingredient was a Karabashi bloodstone. She carefully opened the small black box and stared at the red shiny stone in awe. It looked like a glass ball filled with blood. She’d searched high and low for one when she’d found the spell in her book. None of the usual haunts had one; not the antiques shop or even the specialist magic supply store. She had tried everywhere and had nearly given up altogether. One stormy night when she’d been staring at the dark skies, she’d had a moment of clarity. After some tough negotiation, she’d got it on Ebay.

  Dora put the bloodstone in the bowl and picked up the grimoire. Her heart thundered in her chest. It was going to work, it was. She could feel it. She carefully read the spell and closed her eyes, chanting with a faith she’d never felt before. Six times, she repeated the spell, and she waited.

  She held her breath. A demon was going to appear—he was! Her clock ticked loudly as she sat cross-legged in front of her summoning circle, waiting. After a few silent moments, she let out her breath in an exhausted sigh.

  Nothing again. Nothing ever works!

  She abruptly stood up and kicked over the bowl, shattering the bloodstone inside it. The thick, gloopy liquid slithered across the broken glass and mingled inside the bowl. She didn’t bother to glance at it. She stormed out of her room and slammed the door shut behind her.

  Nothing ever bloody works!

  Once Dora had left the room, a fire ignited in the center of the circle, and the Twister mat curled up as it became inflamed in the fires of hell.

  GO TO CHAPTER TWO

  Josie Carridine watched from the front row pew as sweat dripped down her husband's face while he shouted at the TV cameras from the pulpit, threatening the wrath of God to all sinners. She nodded in agreement when he declared all vegetarians were an abomination. She was surely blessed to have such a righteous man for a husband. Not only had he saved her from a life of sin, pole dancing at the infamous 'Big Fat Joint', he’d also helped her career as a TV producer. Oh yes, life was wonderful once you left sin behind.

  “And He shall strike you down,” Theodore shouted out to his congregation. “Down to the depths of hell if—I-if …”

  Theodore stopped speaking and stared at the back of the church with his mouth hanging open and his eyes widening. Josie jumped when she heard a loud scream from the back of the room. She spun around to look behind her while hearing the entire congregation shifting in their seats as they did the same.

  Thick black swirls of smoke were twirling in the air around the closed doors of the church.

  Has someone set the doors on fire?

  She gaped at the fog in shock and shook her head at the thought. The mist wasn’t behaving like smoke at all. It amassed into a big black blob with more and more seeping in under the door until it split into two foggy shadows.

  She lifted her glasses, which were hanging around her neck, to peer through them. The two black smoky shapes formed into separate entities that appeared to have heads and arms. She dropped her glasses and rubbed her eyes before looking again.

  At the same time, both shadows snapped open fiery red eyes. Their maws gaped as they let out a loud hollow laugh that echoed through the church. Josie winced when Mrs. Smiggins, the oldest member of the congregation, keeled over three aisles down.

  I hope she’s fainted, and she’s not dead.

  The two shadows each gripped a handle of the double doors of the church and flung them open. A burst of flames shot through the entrance. Gale force winds blasted through the room, knocking parishioners over and sending the smaller ones flying around the church in a twister style hurricane.

  Josie ducked down in her seat and hugged the pew, which was thankfully nailed down.

  “Out, damned demon.” She heard Theodore shout at the shadows, but they had already evaporated into the flames. Lightning shot around the
high ceiling of the church, shattering through the stained-glass windows. The air was alive with electricity.

  Josie fell to her knees and prayed—and this time she meant it.

  Dear God, please save me from this nightmare. I promise to be faithful and end my affair with Phil on camera four. I’ll remain good and pious, and stop trying to sell ad space on the church website. Amen.

  She glanced up to see an army of turquoise serpents slithering through the doors and up the aisles toward the congregation, who were now screaming and running toward the pulpit to escape the demon snakes. She pulled herself up and jumped back as one of the snakes snapped at her hand, almost succeeding in ripping one of her fingers off. She pulled away just in time. They were like no snakes she’d ever seen before. Their eyes were ocean-blue, and their teeth were green.

  Have they been drinking NiQuil?

  The snake reared up. It was as tall as she was. Fear slammed through her, making her knees tremble. It launched at her, emitting a deadly hiss. She threw her bible at it, knocking it backwards before she dashed toward the podium and cowered behind her husband, who continued to pray, although his voice was now hoarse.

  The wind howled around them. The parishioners who hadn’t passed out were all cowering around the pulpit. Some were white with shock, others were openly crying with thick trails of snot pouring out of their noses. They were the lucky ones, to have stuffed up noses. A few of the congregation had crapped their pants, judging by the stains on their clothes and the stench in the air.

  Josie stared toward the blazing fires at the entrance as they wickedly licked the inside of the church. She glanced down the aisle in horror as her gaze fell upon the blue snakes writhing around at the foot of the raised pulpit, hissing and biting at each other. There was no way out.