Tales From The Mist: An Anthology of Horror and Paranormal Stories
Page 12
I choked on my sobs and pressed a hand to my mouth to try to stop them. Turning away, I stared out at the water. What could I do? I couldn’t stand Adam—couldn’t live with him. I couldn’t go back into the desert. It would be just as Samael said, I would burn. I would starve. But I would never die. I would never die!
But could I really stay here with Samael? Give birth to his demon children?
“You chose me, Lilith. You chose to stay with me forever.”
“But I did not say I would stay here to bear your spawn for ages to come,” I yelled. I had been tricked.
“You shall,” he said, his voice cold with coiled anger.
I trembled, but said nothing.
That night he came to me again. Again, he made me feel such intense pleasure that I could only writhe on the ground and scream his name. And again, the following morning, I woke up pregnant.
The second baby died as the first.
The third night I tried to resist him. Running my hands down his beautifully formed chest, I said, “Samael, let’s not make love tonight.”
He pulled back from me enough so that he could look at me. “Very well. May I touch you, though? You are so very beautiful.”
I couldn’t deny him that—not when it felt so good. But before I knew it, he was inside of me, filling me once again with his seed. I screamed with both pleasure and frustration.
The third child died as his brothers had.
I tried again and again to resist Samael’s touches, but every night we’d end up the same way, with him pounding into me, flying me to incredible heights of ecstasy. And every morning his child would die at my hands.
I tried everything I could to stop from making love to him. But he was too beautiful, too sensuous, too good at making me feel good. And there was something inside of me, something that wanted to make him happy, to see that smile on his face. I didn’t know whether it was me or something he’d done to me. It scared me.
Day after day, night after exquisite night, morning after bloody morning, it continued. Weeks passed. Months. Years.
Samael heard that God had given Adam another wife, Eve. She was a submissive wuss, created from Adam’s rib. They had children. Their children had children. Eventually, they moved from the Garden of Eden and began to populate the world around them. But still, every night Samael would make sweet love to me, and every morning I would kill his demon child.
I thought of escaping—just leaving, like I had left Adam, but I was too scared.
Every day I thought about what I’d done—giving up my freedom for a twisted gilded cage. For Samael was always kind, always thoughtful. If I wanted fruit, he would bring me exotic, succulent fruit. If I wanted meat, he would hunt for me. He brought me things I didn’t even know I wanted until he’d given it to me—beautiful dresses, glittering stones set in gold to wear around my neck and wrists. But I could never leave, never do anything else. I was trapped.
My mind kept flitting to Adam and how he’d treated me. But no, Samael was not like Adam, I argued with myself. He was kind to me, wasn’t he?
Samael came back from hunting one day, dropping a couple of hares on the ground at my feet.
“What do you want, Lilith? What do I need to do to make you stop killing my children?” he asked, his knife still in his hand, still dripping blood.
I looked at the knife, then back up at him. His eyes weren’t kind and they weren’t blue, but I raised my chin and said nothing. I wasn’t going to be intimidated by him. He wouldn’t hurt me—I hoped.
We stood in silence for a good minute, each glaring at the other. I swear he grew taller, larger, but I stood my ground, sure that I was just imagining it.
Finally, he smiled a little sly smile at me. “Is it power?” he asked. “Is that what you want?”
I didn’t know anything about power. “What sort of power?” What can I say, he’d piqued my interest!
He shrugged and put down the knife. I took a breath for the first time in about two minutes.
“Whatever you want. Look, you don’t want to spend the rest of eternity here, doing this, do you?”
“No!” But I hadn’t realized I had a choice in the matter.
“Of course not. So, here’s the deal,” he leaned in toward me. “With each child you give me, I will give you the ability to share his power.”
I would have powerful children? I crossed my arms over my chest to hide my confusion behind a wall of bravado.
Samael took advantage of it. “We will have very powerful children. With them we will rule the world.”
I really didn’t want to rule the world. I didn’t want to do anything but stop having children. This must have shown on my face. He quickly added, “You can do whatever you want to do, Lilith, as the powerful mother of my children.”
“How many children?” I had to ask.
Samael thought about it. “For one year.”
“No.” There was no way I was going to have that many children.
“A month?”
“One week.”
“Lilith!”
“One week. Seven children or no deal.”
“But wouldn’t you rather have the power of over three hundred demons?” he asked, his words oozing over me.
“Not if I have to give birth to them! And I don’t want to take care of the babies either,” I added. I had no idea how to care for a baby. Just the idea was frightening.
He frowned at that one.
“One week. Seven children. You take care of them. And that’s my final offer,” I said, leaning back.
He mimicked my posture, thinking this through. He clearly wasn’t happy, but I really didn’t care. And if making this deal with him would put a stop to these babies, I was all for it.
“Just seven?” he asked.
“Just seven. And I will get whatever power they hold.”
“Hmmm.”
“With which I can do whatever I want,” I added.
He narrowed his eyes at me, thinking this through. How badly did he want these children?
“Or else I go on killing babies,” I warned him. I honestly didn’t know if I would, or even if I could, but I had to keep up the brave front.
He frowned. “Very well. Seven children and you get to share their power.”
He gave in too easily. I didn’t trust him. I knew I shouldn’t. “Where’s the catch?” I asked.
“What catch? You’re dictating the terms.” He held his hands up, palms facing me, as if to show me that there was nothing there.
“Yes, but you’re giving in too easily.”
He shrugged. “I’m not happy about the seven children, but I’d rather that than none.”
I nodded. “Ok, but then no more kids after this. Ever!”
He looked at me, cocking his head sideways and giving me a little smile, as if asking if I was sure about that.
“None. Ever.” I repeated.
He nodded and sighed heavily. There was definitely something wrong with this deal. I could feel it.
The following morning, once again, I gave birth. I looked at the child. It was covered in slime and blood, but even with that, I could see that it was just like its father. Large bottomless black eyes stared up at me. Its red mottled face glowered. It didn’t cry, it didn’t suckle, it didn’t do anything a normal baby would do.
Samael was standing on the far side of our home with his back to me. To hell with our deal, this child terrified me. I couldn’t let it live, I just couldn’t! I took the child and ran down to the riverside with it.
“Lilith, what are you doing?” Samael called after me.
Terror poured through my veins. Which did I fear more, Samael’s wrath or the potential evil this child would become?
I threw that child against the rocks, smashing its little head.
“No! What have you done?” Samael screamed. “We had a deal!”
“I couldn’t do it,” I cried, watching the little body float downstream. “I couldn’t do it.”
“We had a deal.” He spoke with clipped precision.
“I couldn’t …”
“You will.” With that he turned and walked away, leaving me shaking so hard that I simply collapsed to the ground in a weeping heap. I would. I knew I would do exactly as he said.
The next morning, Samael stood over me as I gave birth, making sure I didn’t go back on my word. He didn’t even wait for the child to emerge completely from my body before he grabbed on to him and pulled him from me. He wiped the slime and blood away, looking the child over, making sure he was everything he should be.
Satisfied, Samael held him up to the heavens and said, “He shall be called Lucifer, ruler of pride, for he is my pride. My first son.”
I felt sick, but said nothing. I had done as he’d asked, I thought with satisfaction. I had had the child and it was his now. He could do whatever he wanted with the brat. It was no longer my problem.
A small twinge plucked at my heart and made my stomach churn, but I shoved it aside. It may have come out of my body, but this was not my child.
Even as I had the thought, Samael nodded to me and then disappeared. Just disappeared. One moment he was there, holding the baby, the next they were gone.
I sat up and looked around.
“Samael?” I said. “Samael?” I called again, this time a little louder. I stood up, took two steps in one direction, then turned around and took more steps in the other. I called out for him again, but he, he just wasn’t there.
I was entirely alone.
“Well, maybe he took the child to someone to care for him,” I told myself, as I went down to the river to bathe.
It was too quiet. All around there was silence and emptiness. He’ll be back, I thought. He’ll be back.
But he wasn’t. He wasn’t back the entire day.
I went out and hunted for my dinner that night. I cooked enough for two, telling myself that he’d have to be back to eat. But he wasn’t.
I lay awake that night until dawn, waiting. But when I awoke, I awoke alone.
Where was he? Where had he gone?
After bathing, I used some of the sweet smelling oils he had given me and donned my prettiest dress. Surely, he would come back some time that day.
But he didn’t. He didn’t come back that day, nor the next, nor the next after that.
After a week of silence he still hadn’t returned. Maybe he wasn’t coming back? I ventured out, walking along the river, searching for half a day. I looked for him, half terrified that I would find him, half terrified that I wouldn’t.
With a jolt of fear that he would come back and find me gone, I practically ran all the way home. But when I got there, it was still empty. Like a heavy blanket, loneliness draped itself around me.
For a year I waited for him to return. For a year I cooked enough for two every night. For a year I lay awake, expecting him to appear by my side just as quickly as he had disappeared. But he didn’t come.
Until he did.
Another lonely day, I thought to myself as I slowly woke up, not even opening my eyes. A scent caught my attention. It smelled … it smelled of Samael! My eyes jolted open and I sat up.
He was standing next to me, smiling. “Good morning.” His voice was low and suggestive, sending shivers of anticipation right through me.
“Good morning.” I tried to sound casual, as if everything was normal, as if he hadn’t just disappeared and left me alone for ages.
It didn’t work. I was up and in his arms within moments, weeping like an imbecile. But just as he began to wrap his arms around me, chuckling at my idiocy, my anger kicked in. I pulled away and slapped his beautiful, smiling face.
“How dare you! How could you? Where have you been?” I screamed, and I was just getting started.
His smile only grew. And the more I screamed and hit him, the more he laughed. Finally, he cut me off, saying, “I missed you too, Lilith.” He pulled me back into his arms, where I collapsed, exhausted from my tirade.
I held him close.
I couldn’t tell you how long we stayed like that. It wasn’t long enough. Forever wouldn’t have been long enough. But eventually, he pulled away. “Tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself,” he said, as he led me to where we ate.
So I did, but there wasn’t much to tell. I asked him what he had done, where he had gone, but he managed to change the subject. Not once all day did he answer a question from me. The entire day we talked and hunted, laughed and talked some more. It was as if nothing had happened. It was the best day I’d had in a very long time.
The night was even better. Making love after so long was intense. Waking up the next morning, heavy with child—not so good.
“You did it to me again!” I screamed, as I waddled over to him.
“Of course,” he said so matter–of–factly I could have just slapped his face.
He paused and looked at me like I was the idiot. “We had a deal, Lilith. You said you would give me seven children. I am going to hold you to that.”
“But you left!”
“And I’ve come back.”
Of course, it was just at that moment that I had to go into labor. Anger and being that pregnant did not mix well.
As with the last time, Samael was there to grab the child before he’d even fully come from my body. Once again, he held him up to the sky and named him. “Leviathan, ruler of envy,” he called out to the heavens. Wrong thing to do.
I think Samael realized this the moment the words were out of his mouth. He cringed and sneaked a wary look at me.
“You could tell me where you go,” I started. “You could tell me what you do there. And what’s becoming of these babies? Who’s taking care of them? Who are you meeting where ever it is?”
I could have gone on, but Samael just sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment. There was a small smile hovering on his lips as he disappeared. Just like that. Gone. With the baby, naturally.
I lay there for a minute, taking everything in, turning it over in my mind. And then I got pissed. And I don’t mean a little ticked off, no, I mean stomping around, fucking pissed.
How dare he use me like this? I wasn’t a damned animal, to be used for breeding and nothing else. Samael was using me just as Adam had, and I wasn’t going to stand for it. No, I was leaving. I was going to go out into the world to discover what was what. If he wanted me, he could damn well come find me. I wasn’t going to stay here waiting for him to show up whenever he pleased.
And so I left my home.
I walked up the riverbank until I came across two women kneeling at the edge of the water pounding clothes. I edged a little closer and then nearly stumbled over a small woven basket. A baby lay inside, sleeping peacefully.
It was one of Samael’s babies, I just knew it! It looked exactly like Leviathan. That’s where he’d gone—to leave his baby with another woman to raise.
Anger coursed through me. I should never have allowed any of Samael’s children to live. I took the baby’s head in one hand, its little body in another, and gave a swift twist, breaking its little neck just like I did with the hares I hunted.
The baby didn’t make a sound. I set it back down, taking a calming breath. That was one gone. Only one more to kill, and all would be right with the world once again. And I would never have another child with Samael, my promise be damned.
One of the women turned and saw me standing by the basket. She gave me a hesitant smile and stood.
“Do I know you?” she asked. She looked me over, as if trying to place me.
“I am Lilith,” I told the woman. “I know Samael hid one of his children with you, but it won’t work. I killed it and I will kill the other!”
“What?”
she whispered. Her eyes flicked to the basket and then back up to me. With shaking hands, she picked up her skirt and ran towards basket. A blood–curdling scream cut through the air.
And then she was up, scratching and clawing, screaming and crying. I pushed her off and simply turned and walked away. The woman collapsed, wailing, on top of the dead child.
She was obviously confused, thinking this child hers. But I knew the truth. I had to find that other baby. I had to kill it before it hurt anyone.
I paused to look back at the woman. The child had been one of Samael’s, hadn’t it? For a brief moment, doubt flickered in my mind. If it wasn’t, that meant they were both still out there. I would have to kill every male baby I could find. Well, that would be nothing new to me. I’d been killing babies for hundreds of years.
And so I went, searching for infants and killing them, hoping that with each one there was one less demon in the world. I travelled throughout the region, flitting into homes—watching the men and women as they laughed, ate, drank, worked, fornicated—and, systematically, killing their male babies. The children all looked like my Lucifer and Leviathan—so how could I be sure they weren’t? I lost track of the days, but I know years passed—perhaps decades … .
On one of those countless nights, I entered yet another house. The air was still and oppressive, and the night silent but for the regular sighs of sleeping breaths. Sliding past the resting parents to the basket in the corner, my nose was tickled by the stench of baby. My stomach churned as I reached in toward the child.
“Go home!”
I jumped and spun around, to confront the screaming mother. Her eyes were too large and black as the night. “Go home!” she said again. “There are no demons here! You’ll find him in your own home. Leave me and mine alone.”
I stared at her, wondering for a moment if she could be a demon, but even as I watched she crumpled, falling unconscious onto the floor. Had someone else spoken through her? And then her words hit me like a rock to the side of my head.