Khaos

by Louise Manson

  The grey vision returned, but this dream was different from the others. There were no fleeting images, just one singular vision that did not change, in fact it was extremely clear; a boy, the boy she had dreamed of before. Lying in bed asleep, peaceful. Too peaceful. On either side of his bed, were piles of rubbish, dirty clothes, half drunk mugs of coffee, cans of beer, crushed and empty. And a metal spoon, stained brown, a cigarette lighter next to it. Khaos was trying to piece it together but before she had a chance, the dream-Khaos reached out, and in one swift movement had the boy by his throat. He was lifted bodily out of bed and pinned to the wall, rudely awakened from a dream to the nightmare reality of Khaos. In fright, he wriggled like a worm on a hook, grasped at her iron hands in desperation for breath, instincts fighting to save his life.

  ‘Please!’ he gurgled. ‘Take what you want, but don’t hurt me!’ he gasped, pleading.

  ‘You have nothing I want,’ Khaos heard herself say, in words like tombstones.

  ‘I can get you money!’ he wheezed. ‘Drugs? Is that what you want?’

  ‘Sinner, your life is over.’ The words rumbled.

  ‘What did I do?!’ he gurgled.

  ‘You have committed the sin of Sloth. You waste your life in this state of stupor, ruining your mind and body with drugs and alcohol. You know that you could be truly living but instead you waste away in this stinking room, letting life, the greatest gift mankind can have, pass you by. Do you know how many thousands, millions, of dying people would give anything to live? And here you are, throwing it all away. And what’s worse, others join you and you encourage them, pressuring them into being like you. You don’t deserve this gift of life.’ The voice sounded like the spirit. It was as if the spirit was speaking through her.

  ‘I’m not a bad person! I know I shoot up sometimes, but it’s not that bad! The guys that deal deserve to die, not me! At least I’m not making a profit out of it!’

  ‘They will get what is coming to them. Don’t worry about that. But it’s your life that is under question now.’

  ‘You don’t know me! You don’t know what I have to deal with all the time! I need a hit sometimes, just to take the pain away!’

  ‘I know you, and I have seen your life. You have chosen to let the bad things rule you, instead of rising above them and proving yourself to the world. You could have been a great artist, if you had ever bothered to hold a paintbrush to paper.’

  At this, the boy’s eyes widened in further shock.‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Instead,’ dream-Khaos continued, ‘You choose this half-life. You exist, but what for? And in choosing this half-life, you have also chosen half-death.’

  ‘What kind of sick twisted logic is that?!’

  ‘There is no logic. Only good and evil. And you have chosen evil. For that, you must die.’

  ‘No! Please…!’

  Khaos face was suddenly very close to his. ‘Out of the dust you came, and to the dust of the earth, you return.’

  Khaos watched as her hands lifted up in front of her, palms down, and a great power shone out, like a bright, heavenly light…

  Khaos awoke abruptly, her head pounding from the intense nightmare. Why did she keep having these vivid, violent dreams? What other terrible things had this body done that she didn’t remember? Dreams. They must be only dreams. She noticed through the small window that the sun was just beginning to rise. She groaned inwardly. Was she ever going to sleep normally? She almost longed for the unconscious bliss of the coma again. At least then she had been at peace. Now her head hurt all the time, and sleep only seemed to plague her with disjointed dreams, attempts at retrieving long lost memories, or just an overactive imagination perhaps.

  ‘Khaos.’ The spirit voice was awake once more. And as quickly as Khaos had wished it to re-appear, she wished it would go away again, as her hands flew to her forehead once more.

  ‘Where were you? I needed you last night!’ Khaos said accusingly, rubbing her temples.

  ‘I’ve been battling with your pathetic human soul. It tries to subdue me. I was with you and tried to speak, but you could not hear my words. Your subconscious blocks me out, it tells you that I’m not real.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I wish I could control it.’

  ‘Well, I saw everything through your eyes. You have done well. The demon is close. But he has not manifested yet. And there is something else… some other presence…’

  Khaos immediately thought of the hidden room behind the bookcase. ‘Is there something in that room?’

  ‘The presence you can sense is the demon Envy. Do you recognise the dark colour of its evil? It has some sort of power, building up in there. Not a physical presence yet though. You must try to get to it when the opportunity comes, so we can see the extent of Envy’s hold there. But that was not the evil that we sensed.’

  ‘Then what is it?’

  ‘It appears human, but it is not.’

  Khaos thought for a moment. Marla was human despite her madness, she knew this from touching the woman’s hand and seeing her soul. Who else then? Could it be that white haired woman, the assistant? There was definitely something strange about her. ‘Loka?’

  ‘Yes. There is something not right, something evil, there, but we cannot read her for some reason. She is not to be trusted, that is for certain.’

  ‘I feel like I have met her before…’

  ‘We have sensed her presence before, but have been unable to trace her. She is not like a human, and not like a demon. She is something else. I fear she may be something worse…’

  ‘What should I do?’

  ‘Nothing, for now. We must wait until the demon manifests. Keep your eyes open. Watch her. I think more will be revealed to us very soon.’

  ‘When I touched Marla’s hand, I saw her past laid out before me.’

  ‘Whenever you touch a mortal’s hand, you will see their life flash before you; you will see their spirit, their aura, whether good or bad.’

  ‘Hmm, what would happen if I touched Loka’s hand?’

  ‘That we cannot say. For now, we must keep focused on the task at hand. When the time comes, you must be ready to fight again. It may be that you will have to contend with this Loka woman as well.’

  ‘By ‘contend’ you mean kill, right?’

  ‘I told you, you cannot kill what doesn’t live. You must dispatch them, by whatever means possible.’

  ‘Oh, God…’ Khaos groaned inwardly, dreading the future bloodshed she was faced with. ‘I don’t think I can do this. I’m not cut out to be a fighter. How am I supposed to go through with this?’

  ‘What you are doing is for the greater good, you must remember that at all times. Besides, you dispatched that assassin easily enough. He was not even a demon.’

  ‘It was self-defence! And it was the sword, not me!’

  ‘You did the right thing, Khaos. His soul was dark and ugly. All you did was defend yourself. When the time is right, you will be ready for the demon. Remember your sword. I will try and help you remember your powers. For now we need to wait. The demon Envy has not manifested yet. When the moment comes, you may have to slay them both, the demon and this white haired fiend.’

  ‘Oh God!’ Khaos moaned again, shoving her fist into her mouth and biting it nervously.

  ‘Oh God, Indeed!’

  ‘Why me? Why does it have to be me?’

  ‘You have been chosen. Ordained by heaven.’

  ‘But surely there’s someone else who would be better, stronger…’

  ‘It must be you, Khaos. You saw the cave paintings. It has been prophesied since the beginning of time.’

  ‘But surely not like this! If it was meant to be, then you and I, spirit, should never have been separated, we should never have forgotten our powers!’

  ‘Everything happens for a reason, Khaos. Perhaps you were meant to be tested. Who are you to question the authority of the heavens? What is, is what must be.’

  ‘But I can’t do this! I p
hysically can’t do this!’

  ‘Do you think you are the only one who has ever had a quest from Heaven? Moses did not want to take up the staff and lead the Israelites out of Egypt, even though he knew they needed a saviour. He begged God to ask someone else. Jesus himself asked of the Lord to spare him of the cross. “Take this cup away from me,” he said. But it must be done. And you have been chosen, like many before you. So keep your armour on and your sword ready for battle.’

  Khaos gulped anxiously, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to calm herself. It was clear, she had no choice but to carry on, and do what the voice said.

  After a several moments of silent reflection, she gazed around the half empty room, trying to think of something other than the task ahead.

  ‘So what should I do now? I’m almost a prisoner here.’ She examined the solid stone walls and heavy wooden door.

  ‘Now might be a good time to try your powers. Try to summon the power of the earth, and blast that door open.’

  ‘But how? I don’t even know where to start!’

  ‘The power is within you, always remember that. You just have to learn to concentrate. Put your hands out, press them onto the door.’

  Khaos obeyed, and closed her eyes.

  ‘Now focus. Concentrate. Think of all the power of earth, volcanoes, earthquakes, plate shifts. Imagine all that power flowing through you. Concentrate.’

  Khaos frowned with concentration. After several moments, she glanced up at the door, but noticed no change.

  ‘Nothing’s happening.’

  ‘You are not concentrating enough. And you still don’t believe, despite everything you have experienced.’

  ‘What did you expect? I can’t blast through this door! It’s solid oak!’

  ‘But Khaos can! Khaos could raise this whole building to the ground, with one finger.’

  ‘Am I not Khaos then?’

  ‘Not yet, human soul. Not yet. Try again.’

  Once more, Khaos tried to focus. She completely cleared her mind and tried to genuinely think of the earth, the world, all that natural power, that energy, flowing through all things, transferring from one state of matter to another, never ending, never dying. Could it really be channelled through one person, through her?

  Again, she looked to the door, but was once again disappointed. It still stood, as strong as ever. As she slid her hand away, she noticed the faintest green patch where her hand had been, a very thin layer of moss. And as she lifted her other hand, she saw it was on that side too… Did she do that? Or had it been there before?

  ‘That’s enough. You are obviously not ready.’ said the voice in a despairing tone. ‘Use the sword instead.’

  Khaos drew the sword, whose flame burst brilliantly into crimson and yellow. Like a flaming chainsaw, it cut easily through the door, blackening the wood and stone around it. The door fell forward, throwing up a cloud of masonry dust, which made Khaos cough.

  The hall outside appeared to be empty, but before Khaos had walked even one step towards the door , something small and sharp came spinning out of the doorway of the room at the end of the corridor – Loka’s room – and thunked into the wall opposite. When Khaos crept closer, she saw a circular target had been sketched roughly onto a flat piece of plasterboard and screwed onto the wall, and Loka’s door was ajar. As she crept forward, another spinning weapon, a small throwing knife by the look of it, came out of the room at high speed, there was a slight clink of metal as it hit, point first, almost exactly the same spot as the first one, the dead centre of the target. Then as Khaos almost reached the open door, Loka herself came out, fully dressed; this time in grey suit trousers and matching waistcoat , with a fitted black shirt underneath, hair and makeup perfect. She was as severe looking as she had been the day before. Khaos also noticed that she wore white leather gloves, covering her hands completely.

  ‘Morning,’ Khaos attempted a greeting.

  Loka responded with an icy glare, similar to the way she had looked at her the day before. But had her eyes not been blue yesterday? They were an apple green today, and just as cold as ever. She carried on her game, not looking at Khaos.

  ‘I knew you would escape. I told the Mistress that we should disarm you.’ She eyed the sword, which was currently slung across Khaos’ back. ‘I think she was hoping you would try to run away, so she would have some more entertainment.’

  ‘She has a strange sense of humour,’ Khaos said weakly. Loka just rolled her eyes and carried on with her game, every time hitting the target. Somehow still not put off, Khaos made an attempt at a joke. ‘Would you like me to stand in front of the target for you?’ she suggested.

  Loka just glared at her again and carried on. Her sullenness was exasperating. What had Khaos done to make her so angry? Was it because she had killed her colleague? Khaos decided to make an apology.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry that I killed your friend…’

  ‘My friend? What are you talking about?’

  ‘That Russell guy. I’m sorry I killed him. It was in self-defence.’

  ‘He was not my friend!’

  ‘Oh… really? Well then why…’

  ‘I don’t care about that! He was an idiot! I would have killed him myself, given half a chance.’

  ‘Well then, what’s with the hostility? What did I do that’s pissed you off?’

  There was a brief flicker in Loka’s eyes, had they seemed a little yellower just then? ‘Never mind what I think. The mistress thinks you are special. That’s all that matters.’

  ‘I see. So you are jealous that your mistress likes me, and not just you?’

  This response was met with another glare. Loka opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted, suddenly, by an insistent bleeping noise coming from her pocket. There was actually a slight look of relief in her angry expression, as she produced a pager and read it. ‘The Mistress would like to see you in the Japanese garden. Now.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘Marla is awake at this time?’ Khaos asked as she was hurried out of the staff quarters and across the courtyard.

  ‘She likes to wake up early and reflect on things,’ said Loka as she ushered her through part of the glass house and out the other side, to the front garden. To one sidewas a pretty landscaped area Khaos had not noticed in last night’s darkness, different from the wildness of the rest of the garden. Little stone bridges and pebble pathways divided up streams, small rockeries and perfectly rounded shrubberies. In the middle was a round empty patioed area from which everything seemed to spiral out, in which a pretty carved wooden arbour sat on one side with cushioned benches underneath and a little table in front of it. There was no one there, but as Khaos was about to ask Loka where Marla was, she saw a movement in the glass house. It was in an end room and, judging from where the front door was and the main corridor, and also from the distinctive bookshelf visible within, Khaos guessed it was the same room she had been in last night. The movement she had seen was the secret door sliding open, and Marla coming out, turning to click the door back into place before she left. Khaos wondered what she might be doing in that small, secret room at this time of the morning.

  She did not have long to think however, as Marla was already approaching them, this time in a cream and pink kimono, hair pinned loosely back, effortlessly styled.

  ‘Do you happen to own a horse, Cam?’ said Marla as she approached.

  ‘A horse?’ said Khaos, puzzled.

  ‘There appears to be a black horse, grazing on the other side of the garden. Is it yours?’

  Khaos suddenly remembered Nyx. She had forgotten she had left him outside the garden the previous night. ‘Oh yes, sorry. He is my horse. Is he a bother? Shall I move him somewhere else?’

  ‘Of course not! He can stay. As long as he isn’t going to make a mess. So what do you think of my Japanese garden, Cam?’ Marla gestured around her. ‘I saw one just like it in Tokyo, and just had to have my own replica built here. I just love Japanese st
yle and culture.’

  ‘It’s very nice,’ agreed Khaos, remembering to answer to the alias that she had invented last night.

  ‘I can’t speak a word of Japanese, of course. But I’ve tried all the Japanese green teas. Some of them I even drank a whole cup of!’ she laughed hard at her own joke again.

  ‘It’s very peaceful here.’

  ‘Yes, isn’t it?’ Marla took a seat in the arbour. ‘It’s also a great place for a swordfight.’

  ‘Sword fight?’

  ‘Yes. Loka? Will you fetch those lovely samurai swords from the cupboard?’

  ‘Yes, Mistress.’ Loka strode to the arbour and opened a concealed cupboard on the left side, producing two swords sheathed in polished blackened bamboo. She threw one to Khaos, who caught it awkwardly.

  ‘You want me to fight? With this?’ Khaos unsheathed a little bit of the sword, revealing a gleaming and brutally sharp looking blade.

  ‘I would like you two to fight each other. Samurai style.’ Marla grinned.

  ‘Uhh, I can’t.’ Khaos swallowed hard, staring again at the blade, and then at Loka, who had already drawn hers and was watching her, face expressionless.

  ‘Can’t? What do you mean, can’t?’ said Marla.

  ‘Not with this sword. Can’t I use my own sword?’

  ‘No. That wouldn’t be a traditional Samurai battle, would it?’

  ‘Well then, I don’t want to fight.’

  ‘I’m sorry. But you don’t have a choice,’ said Marla, her face stern again. ‘You do as I say. Everyone else does around here.’

  ‘But I can’t…’

  ‘What part of “do as I say” do you not understand? Did I not spare you last night? You work for me now. And right now, I want to be entertained. Fight!’

  ‘No!’ argued Khaos.

  ‘Loka! Make her fight you!’ Marla demanded petulantly. Immediately, Loka crouched, the blade held above her head with one hand, the other holding the bamboo hilt, extended out towards Khaos. She spun forwards, the sword arm twirled back gracefully and then straight out. Khaos felt a sharp pain her arm and realised she had been cut. Before she had time to react, Loka was pirouetting toward her again, and this time the other arm was struck. Hurriedly, Khaos drew the sword and managed to parry Loka’s next blow, but almost cut her own arm off in the process. Loka pulled back and Khaos tried a sweeping ineffectual swipe which Loka dodged easily, and while Khaos’ head was bowed, Loka brought the hilt of the sword down smack on the back of her head, knocking her flat on her face.