Khaos

by Louise Manson

  ‘What would have happened if I’d cut your head off?’ whispered Loka, suddenly right by Khaos ear. Khaos turned over groggily and flailed for her sword, which was just out of her reach. Quick as lightning, Loka strode round and tread on Khaos’ hand with her killer heels.

  ‘Ow! What the hell?!’ Khaos cried out.

  ‘Loka? Fight fair. Cam, come on, where are all your moves from last night?’ encouraged Marla from the comfort of the arbour.

  Loka stepped back, giving Khaos a brief moment to stand and pick up the sword. Already, the bleeding from her arms had stopped. She tried another lunge, pointing towards Loka. But again Loka dodged with ease, and this time she scuffed Khaos across her back roughly with the flat of the sword. Khaos tried not to retaliate, and paused, trying to outwit Loka by catching her off guard. Loka seemed to relax briefly, and Khaos tried a swing this time, which clattered off Loka’s ready blade and, once again, Khaos lost her balance. This time, Loka simply brought the flat of the blade down on Khaos rear, spanking her humiliatingly.

  ‘You have no grace,’ said Loka dismissively. ‘You can’t just try to stab me; you have to plan your attack. You have to make a dance of it.’ She parried another ineffectual attempt from Khaos. ‘Each time you lunge to attack me, you leave yourself vulnerable. I could have killed you so many times already.’

  ‘Just as well I can’t die then,’ snapped Khaos.

  ‘It’s far more amusing to watch you fall over.’

  Red faced and angry, Khaos tried another swinging attack, this time she raised the sword high above her head. Loka was there; swift as light, but it was her foot, not her sword, that made contact with Khaos’ chest, winding her. Another kick, this time high and in her face, knocked her flat on her back. Loka stood over her, and in a quick movement of her hand, cut an L shape into Khaos cheek and smirked.

  ‘You’re pathetic,’ she said smugly, reaching down to wipe the blood from Khaos face with her thumb.

  ‘Just what is your problem, anyway?’ gasped Khaos, still wheezing from the blow to her chest. ‘Are you scared your Mistress prefers me to you?’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with that! God, you are stupid.’

  ‘Well then, what the hell?’

  ‘I know what you are. Or should I say, what you’re not.’ She got really close then, so only Khaos could hear. ‘You’re a fraud.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me. A fraud. It’s not you who has these powers, this ability to heal. It’s something inside you, keeping you alive. You’re just the meat sack it’s walking around in.’

  ‘How do you know…’

  ‘The ridiculous thing is,’ interrupted Loka, ‘you’re so stupid, you’re doing everything it tells you to. You don’t even realise that it’s a parasite, feeding off you. Using you. Have you ever stopped to think what YOU’RE getting out of this?’

  ‘Uh…No.. But…’

  ‘The Mistress might be impressed, but I’m not. You’re nothing without your parasite. And your sword…’ she cast her eye to her right, where Khaos realised her flaming sword had fallen, its flame a subtle blue. Like a cat, Loka leapt up and was by it before Khaos had chance to move, but when she grabbed the hilt, its flame burned an angry red and the metal smouldered like white hot coal. Loka screamed in agony, dropping the sword with a clatter onto the tiled ground. She clutched her injured hand, which had turned an almost luminous red and a sickly yellow white from the burning flesh. The white glove was ruined, melted onto her skin.

  ‘Loka! Loka are you alright?!’ shouted Marla, her face knotted with worry. She hurried to Loka’s side and tried to examine the wound, but Loka snatched it away, cradling it with her other hand.

  ‘It’s nothing. I’m fine, it’s nothing,’she snapped, not letting Marla see.

  ‘It didn’t look like nothing! Khaos, what happened? What did you do?’

  Khaos said nothing at first, then reached down and retrieved her sword, which had returned to its cool metal form, now that it was in the right hands. Khaos’ hands, she mused to herself. ‘Don’t touch my sword,’ she muttered.

  ‘Enough fighting for one day, I think. Come on, Loka, we’ll get someone to take you to the hospital.’

  ‘I’m fine! Leave me alone!’ Loka snarled. She jumped to her feet and stormed off, shooting Khaos another glare, treatment which Khaos was becoming accustomed to. Marla stared after her helplessly.

  ‘I’m sure she needs a doctor.’

  ‘She said she was fine. Leave her. Maybe she doesn’t like being beaten,’ said Khaos.

  ‘You hardly beat her. You were terrible! Can you really only fight with your fire sword?’ asked Marla.

  ‘Yes. It does the fighting for me. It has a life of its own.’

  ‘So I see. But only you can wield it, clearly.’ Marla looked thoughtful again, and stared at Khaos with narrowed eyes, calculating. ‘Well, I’m sure you will still be of use to me. Stay out in the garden today; keep your eye on things. And I’d stay out of Loka’s way, too.’ She looked in the direction Loka had gone. ‘I’ve never seen anyone make her look foolish before. She seemed pretty angry.’

  ‘Ok, I’ll stay away from her.’ Khaos agreed, glad that the fight was over, at least for now. Her head was spinning from the events of this morning.

  Loka had taken her utterly by surprise. How did she know about the spirit? Did she have some powers of perception, which saw what normal humans could not? Loka was the first person Khaos had come across who had any kind of understanding of her powers, and the voice within. But her view was distorted, seeing the voice and Khaos’s powers as some sort of parasite. But the spirit voice had said Loka was evil, so of course her view of the world would be warped, of course she would see Khaos as a parasite, something that must be removed.

  For the first time, Khaos was questioning herself, because of what Loka had said. What was she getting out of this? What terrible thing did she do in her past life that this was her purgatory? In fact, what happened in her past life at all? She needed answers. But the voice was silent, unhelpful. And could she trust it?

  Now alone with her thoughts, Khaos thought of her situation, the path to the destruction of the demons looming in front of her like some vast, endless road. It was still too much to take in, and now there was this doubt. The voice had said that Loka could not be trusted, and that she was evil. But where had she come from? And where did she get her insight into Khaos life? As if on cue, the voice spoke.

  ‘Doubt is one of the strongest weapons of evil, Khaos.’

  ‘You’re back. How does she know so much about me?’

  ‘Whatever knowledge and power she has, it is blocked from our vision. All we can see is that she is not a normal human being. She certainly seems to be devious though, already she is trying to poison your mind. You must not take heed. Your faith will be tested many times, Khaos.’

  ‘Was I a really bad person, in my old life?’ She stared off into the distance thoughtfully.

  ‘You were a lost soul, burdened with your sin, just like everyone else. This is your chance to redeem yourself. There are not many others who will get a second chance.’

  The day went by without any further events, Khaos patrolled the garden most of the day, which was bright, crisp, and sunny, and quite enjoyable. At lunchtime, another servant Khaos had not met before, an older woman wearing a black tabard, brought her a tray of food and drink, which she ate in the arbour.

  She did not see either Loka not Marla until the evening, when she noticed them coming out of the front door, together, with one of the heavies. Khaos met them at the path. Marla looked beautiful again, this time in a fabulous navy dress that came to her knees, complimented with diamonds hanging from her ears and neck.

  ‘How do I look?’ she twirled. ‘I’ve been invited to a VIP dinner; can I trust you to look after the house while we’re gone?’ She looked at Khaos thoughtfully. ‘Yes, I think you are ready. And if you prove me wrong, I’m sure one of my guards will subdue you until we get ba
ck. Good luck!’ she smiled sweetly, and strode to the car.

  Loka, who was dressed in another nondescript skirt and blazer combination, followed without saying a word or catching Khaos’ eye. Khaos noticed that her injured hand was very thoroughly bandaged.

  After they had gone, Khaos considered sneaking into the house, remembering that secret room in the library. This seemed to be a perfect time to go and have a look, but she realised to her dismay that at least two of Marla’s humourless guards were patrolling the house, she saw their silhouettes going past the glass windows. Sneaking around now would not be possible. Confident an opportunity to creep in would present itself, Khaos decided to sit in the secure room near the staff quarters and wait.

  There was a blur of fire, smoke, black leathery wings, feathers, all spinning her round in a whirlwind of confusion. She felt strange, sick and dizzy. Her head was pounding. She was flying, that was why the wind whipped at her so. Flying straight up in the air. The black leathery wings turned out to be hers, flapping powerfully either side of her. She was clutching something, pulling at something. Something which was attached to her neck. Then she saw it clearly, a white snake, its long tail wriggling in her hands. Its head was by hers. Its mouth clamped firmly onto the flesh of her neck. Poisoning her. She spun around, corkscrewing through the air, pulling at the snake and trying to dislodge it by any means. Fleetingly, it became something else… A huge bird like thing, filling her every breath with white feathers, its wings flapping in her face and mouth, filling her nostrils. Its evil claws slicing at her skin from this close range. She caught a glimpse of its horrid little face, and to her surprise, under its cruel beak was a human mouth and chin, pulled into a grimace. Then she was wrestling the snake again, the bird gone. In mid air she fought to release herself, flapping erratically over the streets below, tugging at the snake’s tail. She began spinning out of control as the dark poison coursed through her veins…

  Khaos woke abruptly, realising that she had slumped in front of the security screens. It was much later and darker outside, and everything in the house was still. Except for one room…

  There was a tinkle of glass; in one of the large reception rooms, a window had been smashed. Khaos leapt to her feet, and dashed through the side door by the courtyard, which thankfully was not guarded, and up the main corridor, working out the route to the room in her head. She got to the closed double doors of the reception; there was no sign of anyone else around. She tried the handle; it was unlocked. She pulled both doors open at once, and at that same moment, a dark haired girl in a yellow dress fell out of the doorway and into Khaos’s arms.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Khaos froze, overwhelmed by this sudden breach of her personal boundaries. The girl in her arms seemed unconscious. She had the same dark hair as Marla, but hers was even longer. Khaos surmised that she must be Carmen, the other sister. Her figure was similar but she seemed a little more slightly built. She smelled very strongly of alcohol and, unfortunately, vomit as well. The bottom of her dress and her feet were filthy, and her right hand, which was clutching Khaos’s arm, was bleeding. Just as Khaos began to attempt to move her, the girl groaned and tried to look up at Khaos, her face obscured by her hair.

  ‘Sick,’ she murmured.

  ‘Sick? You feel…’ But Khaos did not manage to finish, because the girl suddenly vomited all over her.

  ‘Sorry,’ she spluttered, releasing one hand from her grip on Khaos arm to try to wipe her mouth. She lost her balance and tipped forward, but Khaos managed to grab her shoulders before she hit the floor.

  ‘Why don’t you sit down?’ suggested Khaos, trying to hold her breath to avoid the fresh vomit smell that was now on her. She slowly led the girl, hobbling, to the nearest sofa, and convinced her to sit down. Khaos glanced towards the windows and saw that one was smashed in, a stone lay amongst the broken glass on the floor surrounding it. She wondered why Carmen would break in instead of coming to the door, why break in to her own house?

  The girl groaned again, and clutched at her head, swaying slightly from side to side.

  ‘Can I get you something? A glass of water?’ suggested Khaos.

  ‘Please.’ The girl nodded slowly. Khaos left the room, and after trial and error of several doors, found a large, luxury bathroom, fully tiled in slate, with a huge claw footed bath, and soft purple towels hanging from a chrome towel rack. A purple jewelled toothbrush cup would have to do as a glass, she could not find anything else. Khaos unravelled some toilet roll and attempted to wipe away the vomit from her shirt and blazer. Remembering Carmen’s cut hand, she unravelled some more, and after further thought, and noticing a dispenser bottle of hand sanitizer by the sink, decided to squeeze a few drops on some of the paper to clean the cut.

  She hurried back to the lounge, to find Carmen curled up on the sofa, asleep, her high heels thrown at random on the floor.

  Khaos studied her for a moment silently, not wanting to disturb her. Even through her drunken state; her messy clothes and hair, makeup smeared down her face, it was clear to see that she was very beautiful. On paper, she was exactly like Marla; the dark hair, eyebrows and eyelashes, clear skin, amazing figure. But something subtly different about her made her more attractive somehow, a slightly more delicate nose, perhaps? Her mouth curled into a slight smile, easier on the eye than Marla’s deadpan expression? It was hard to say. Khaos could not imagine Marla getting into this sort of drunken state. She was much too controlled. Maybe that was it. This girl’s vulnerability made her more human somehow, whereas Marla seemed almost robotic in comparison.

  The girl stirred, and Khaos realised she had been staring at her much longer than necessary.

  ‘Water?’ she offered tentatively.

  ‘Mmm.’ The girl forced herself upright again, and took the water from Khaos’ hand, slurping it greedily.

  ‘Do you want me to have a look at your hand?’ Khaos said, a little shyly.

  ‘Hmm?’ she glanced up at Khaos with light brown eyes, almost copper coloured.

  ‘Your hand? It’s bleeding…’

  ‘Oh yeah. Please?’ she offered the cut hand to Khaos. When she took it in hers, time stopped once more, and darkened. The pressure built up behind Khaos’ eyes again, but this time Khaos was more accustomed to it; the pain was not as intense as before. Khaos looked at Carmen in the grey world, and saw her past laid out behind her like a photo album, from her birth into this wealthy, successful family. How Carmen looked up to her older sister, Marla. How they were always together when they were young. Puberty hits, and Carmen already shows signs of being a great beauty, winning competitions for her looks. Teenagers, and all the boys at school want to be with her. Marla only dates Carmen’s rejects, her sloppy seconds. As they grow older, the friction between them gets worse. Carmen is offered modelling contracts and other media work, Marla just does not have the same appeal. Marla and Carmen fight all the time. Carmen’s aura was light and bright, a genuinely good person, drastically different to the blackness she had seen surrounding Marla. It was not her fault she was beautiful.

  Colour poured back in and Khaos was back in the room once more, holding Carmen’s hand. Carmen had not noticed and was still talking as if nothing had happened.

  ‘You’re very sweet,’ she slurred.

  ‘What?’ Khaos blinked, still adjusting to reality.

  ‘Tending my wounds. None of my sister’s other staff would be this kind.’

  Khaos said nothing, and gently tried to remove the blood. The cut was fairly small and shallow, but had a sliver of glass in it, which Khaos picked out carefully.

  ‘Sorry,’ Carmen said, suddenly.

  ‘What for?’ asked Khaos.

  ‘Assuming you are staff. Do you work here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ve never seen you before.’

  ‘I just started yesterday.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ She blinked slowly. ‘Room spinning…’

  ‘Maybe you should lie down?’

&nbs
p; ‘What are you doing here?!’ said an angry voice from the doorway. Khaos turned to see Marla and Loka standing there, framed by the shadows, hands on hips, and faces furious.

  ‘Marly! My big sis!’ Carmen got to her feet unsteadily and staggered to the door, draping her arms around Marla affectionately. Marla remained stiff and did not return the embrace.

  ‘Loka. Still here then?’ said Carmen to Loka, eying her with barely disguised disdain. ‘Still got that stick up your arse?’

  ‘Carmen! Don’t be so rude! What’s wrong with you?!’ snapped Marla. Loka glared at the ground. Khaos felt a strange ache in her face, and realised it was the first time she had smiled genuinely since waking up; her face muscles were hurting from lack of use.

  ‘Carmen, what are you doing here?’ continued Marla. ‘I told you last time, I don’t want you within a five mile radius of my house!’

  ‘It’s not your house, Its Mum and Dad’s, remember? Bossy-boots,’ joked Carmen drunkenly.

  ‘Well, they’re dead. And you have your own apartment with Mark, remember? Where is he?’

  ‘We broke up!’ Carmen wailed dramatically, clinging to her sister. ‘We had a fight, it’s all over!’

  Marla seemed to soften then, and there was the slightest look of glee in her face, as if Carmen’s failed relationship gave her some sort of pleasure. ‘So you’ve been out drinking? You stink.’