Khaos

by Louise Manson

  ‘Then I must seek it out. It is the only way. I must travel back to the beginning of time, and find that tree.’

  ‘Then farewell to you, for now,’ said the voices. ‘And Loka?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Don’t come back too soon. There’s only so much damning one soul can take.’

  ‘I can assure you, it won’t be my soul that will be damned, this time.’ Past-Loka’s face had a determined look to it as she set off back into the mortal realm, following a scorched path over a flaming lake.

  The moment faded, and others flew up in its place, in quick succession. Present Khaos saw herself again,; when she was in dead time. A white cat prowled the rocks nearby, watching. Listening. Khaos remembered that she had felt another presence there, and knew now that it was Loka in disguise.

  Another image; Loka herself looking through dead time, until the image of the thing she was looking for appeared: a black-winged fiend, standing in the bedroom of an unsuspecting human, about to strike first blood. Present-Khaos remembered this vision chillingly, from her own perspective. Was that what it had looked like?

  Another vision; a white haired nurse, sitting on the edge of an unmoving patient’s bed. ‘Don’t worry pet.’ She soothed, holding the immobile sleepers hand. ‘You’re safe here. Just sleep, dream it all away.’ Present-Khaos did not need to see the face of the patient to know who she was. Of course! That had been why the voice had been familiar. But it seemed that Loka was more than familiar. In fact, she seemed to have been dogging Khaos’s steps for a long time.

  Another vision flashed up for a second, a white pigeon, standing on the bonnet of Nyx intaxi form, with past Khaos inside, pecking at the edges of the glass in the pretence of looking for food. But all the time watching and listening.

  Another fragment appeared; a vision of a vast, beautiful garden, with an enormous tree in the middle. Khaos recognised it instantly as the garden of Eden. And there was Loka, beneath the tree of knowledge, reaching up - carefully picking the nearest fruit, a ripe red apple. Cupping the huge fruit in both hands, she took a bite and paused, an expectant look on her face.

  ‘I feel no different.’ Past-Loka murmured to herself after a while. ‘Perhaps I already know too much.’ She ate the rest of the fruit in haste, and closed her eyes, as if in meditation. But then she was disturbed by voices in the distance, and her eyes snapped back open, acid green. She must have been overcome with curiosity, for she shrunk down and, as Khaos watched, became covered with fur, morphing into a white cat again. In her new guise she crept through the garden, hiding behind bushes and trees, heading toward the sound. It led her to the very edge of the forest, where the ring of fire circled tirelessly. She shrunk down some more and sprouted light dusty wings, a white butterfly, and flapped nearer to the edge. Perched on the generous leaf of a large shrub, Loka observed Nyx as a black horse standing outside the garden, and past-Khaos, though this time it was not the spirit-in-control Khaos, now wearing ancient armour and a thick fur cape. To present-Khaos’s embarrassment, she watched herself fall off Nyx the horse. She watched as she picked herself up, and approached the fire. Present-Khaos watched as Loka, in the disguise of a butterfly, listened in to the whole conversation by the edge of Eden, and observed pastKhaos as she picked up the flaming sword for the first time.

  Another vision appeared; it was past-Khaos possessed by the spirit, in all her terrible glory. Her wings were spread, eyes like stones, and she stood in the middle of a roofless house, destroyed by her powers, her hands round the neck of a screaming man. As present-Khaos watched, the man became dust, and particles of him exploded everywhere. Past-Khaos barely showed a flicker of emotion on her face, and seemed to be preparing for flight. Then something made her stop in her tracks and look around. Present-Khaos had a good idea who she might have heard. Past-Khaos strode towards one of the piles of rubble that had formed on the floor of the sloth’s house, following the sound of hissing. She lifted away the lumps of brick and plaster, seeking out whatever was making the noise. From beneath a cloth, a white cobra was revealed; Loka in disguise, poised to strike. Before Past-Khaos could so much as flinch, Loka’s fangs where buried deep in the flesh of past-Khaos’ neck, her black poison, loaded from Loka’s feast on the fruit of knowledge, injected into Khaos’s blood. Past-Khaos seemed overcome with pain and dizziness, for she cried out and staggered around trying to shake off Loka the snake. In a moment of desperation, she tried to take flight, the white snake still clinging on. She tried to get as high as possible, perhaps thinking to drop the snake to its death. In mid air she fought to release herself, wrestling with the snake, flapping erratically over the streets below, and tugging at the snake’s tail. She began spinning out of control, her eyes opening and closing drowsily, the dark poison must be coursing through her veins. In one last attempt to free herself, Past Khaos tried to blast the snake with fire – but instead of incinerating Loka, the fire blazed backwards, spreading down Khaos arms and across her whole body. The darkness of the poison must have reached past Khaos’s brain as she was suddenly rendered unconscious, her body falling swiftly and helplessly towards the ground, the flames consuming her.

  And that was where the moments ended. Before that, there was nothing. Loka had no past life, no memories of growing up or family or friends. It was almost as if she had not existed in this world before that.

  Then Khaos understood.

  Loka had not existed in this world before.

  She was not mortal.

  And, hanging over Loka’s head, like the sword of Damocles, was the darkest halo Khaos had ever seen.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Khaos stared silently at Loka for several minutes, reeling at these revelations. All this time, Loka had been following her. Stalking her, like a hunter tracking prey. And Khaos had thought that Loka was overly jealous of Marla and Carmen, when all the time it had been the other way around. All this time, it had been Loka who had stopped her in her tracks, poisoning her, reducing her to that comatose state.

  ‘So it was you who poisoned me,’ Khaos accused.

  ‘I did not poison you. I have restored you,’ Loka replied.

  ‘Restored me? What, by putting me in a coma? By erasing all my memories?’

  ‘I didn’t…’

  ‘Don’t speak! Your every word is a lie!’ Khaos shouted, trying to block her out. ‘I know now! Your every move, every word, has been to try and bring me down, to stop me from fulfilling my destiny. But my eyes are open now, Loka! I see what you truly are!’

  ‘Just ask yourself one question, Khaos. Do you really want an all powerful force to be in complete control of you? Do you really want to become a remorseless, destructive, killing machine? Because that is what you were, before.’

  ‘I can control the spirit!’

  ‘Can you? Can you really? Or does it consume you, taking every inch of your strength?’ Loka glared up at her, unblinking.

  Khaos bit back an answer. What use was arguing with this creature, when she had already seen how Loka had stalked her, deceived her, and tried to thwart her at every turn? Yet, so many questions remained unanswered, and so many more were filling Khaos’s mind.The one that stuck out the most, was why? What motive did Loka have to follow her, trying to obstruct her every move? What had she to gain from it?

  ‘Khaos! Let her go! Let her fall!’ the voice within cried out.

  ‘But I don’t understand…’ Khaos said out loud.

  ‘It’s enough to know she is a soulless being intent on taking you down! Let her go!’ The voice demanded. Khaos’s head seared with pain sharply, her eyes blurred and greyed, and for a fleeting moment the voice was in control again and shook Loka off, letting her fall into the vast, dark ravine below. Loka screamed and scrabbled at the sides as she went down. It seemed an age before her cries died out.

  Khaos watched the hole for a moment, stunned and a little angry that the spirit had taken over like that.

  ‘Don’t control me! I wasn’t finished with her!’r />
  ‘You need me to control you. You are not capable of making logical decisions!’

  ‘Your idea of logic is destruction!’

  ‘You are too weak to kill. Your pathetic human mind cannot handle it. You must let me make decisions for you. You have nothing to gain from speaking to demons and evil beings. They are incapable of feelings of remorse or guilt. Their only goal is to make you as bad as them, twisting you away from the path to redemption, and towards the evil ways of darkness. Do you think they want to help you? Do you think they want you to succeed? No. Their every word is poison to your soul. Now come, we must move, the time of Envy’s manifestation is at hand.’

  Though still angry at the voice, Khaos conceded to try to find Marla, conscious that as it had been Loka disguised as Carmen, the real Carmen was still somewhere in the house, potentially in trouble.

  Khaos left the destroyed bookcase room abruptly, and strode through the dark house, throwing caution to one side; she didn’t care what might jump out at her now. She opened each room that she passed and cast around confidently, using the flame of her sword to light the way. But there was no sign of Carmen or Marla. There was, in fact, no sign of any life; not even servants or bodyguards. It was creepily quiet.

  She raced up the stairs anxiously but the situation was the same, no sign of the two sisters, no sign of life at all, in fact. Once again, she checked every room, but to no avail. In what looked like Marla’s bedroom there were signs of a sudden exit; the bed sheets were pulled almost completely off the mattress, the lamp was on the floor beside the bedside table, the bulb inside cracked. One high heel lay on the floor. Khaos picked it up and examined it carefully. On the gold satin heel was a small red circle, and when Khaos touched it gingerly her finger came away wet – it was blood.

  A splash of white in the darkness outside the window caught Khaos eye, and she ran to the glass to try to see better. From this distance it was hard to tell, but a few yards from the house, there was what looked like a pale cloth, judging by the way it fluttered in the wind. Something weighed it down. It was about the length of a person, and as Khaos stared through the cold glass, she was sure she could make out hair. It was a body. Carmen’s body.

  She turned and sped out of the bedroom, heart pounding, as if it would burst from her chest. In her haste to get to Carmen’s aid, she half stumbling, half ran down the staircase. There were no doors directly below the room, but luckily there was a window that looked large enough to climb out of. Khaos fumbled with the latch, swung the glass out as far as it would go, and slipped throughthe window frame onto the flowerbed below.

  As she strode toward the fluttering cloth, she noticed what appeared to be piles of laundry, lying in the grass by the wall of the house. But on closer inspection, she realised what had looked like clothing was actually two figures; bodies… Marla’s two heavies. No wonder she had not come across them sooner: they were dead. For some inexplicable reason, they both lay side by side, their hands clasped round each other’s necks…

  Khaos drew her sword, gripping it in both hands, expecting at any moment to be ambushed from the shifting darkness all around her. As she carried on toward the prone white figure, she realised that she was heading straight to the Japanese garden, where only a few days before she and Loka had fought with samurai swords for Marla’s amusement. Oh how normal that seemed, compared to what she was faced with now!

  The garden remained eerily silent, but she was not attacked, and she released one hand from the grip of the sword to extend it to the unmoving figure on the ground. She gripped the body by the shoulder and pulled it back to see the face; yes, it was Carmen, and she did not respond to Khaos words or attempts to revive her. Khaos touched Carmen’s face and throat, trying to find a pulse. In her panic, she couldn’t find one, but her skin was warm.

  ‘Nice of you to join us, Cam,’ said a voice from the gloom. Khaos looked up sharply, trying to work out where the voice had come from.

  ‘Who’s there?’ she tried to sound confident, but it didn’t quite manage it. ‘Marla? Is that you?’

  ‘Nice night, isn’t it?’ continued the voice conversationally. It was coming from the arbour, which was almost in complete darkness. Khaos strained her eyes, and could just about make out a female figure, long dark hair blowing in the wind. The face was in complete shadow. ‘We were wondering when you would turn up, Cam. Or should I say, Khaos.’ Was it Khaos’ imagination, or was there a hissing sound in the background?

  ‘So you know me then, Marla.’

  ‘You tried to deceive me, Khaos.’ There was a definite echo, not hissing, but a whispering faint noise, murmuring whenever Marla spoke.

  ‘I had to, Marla. I couldn’t tell you everything. Not at once, anyway.’

  ‘Why not? I told you all my secrets!’ the whisper was definitely another voice, speaking whenever Marla did, echoing her words. ‘You tried to trick your way into my home, gain my trust….’

  ‘I had to get close to you Marla. I had to try…’

  ‘I know why you’re here. You don’t have to sugar-coat it for me, Khaos. You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m here to save you, Marla.’

  ‘Save me from what?’

  ‘From yourself.’

  ‘I’m fine! I don’t need you!’

  ‘I think you do. What have you done to Carmen, your only sister? What have you done to yourself?’

  ‘She got in the way! Whoever gets in my way, must be crushed!’ the two voices said in unison; the whispering voice got louder each time, as if it were gaining strength..

  ‘Listen to yourself! You must realise, that’s not a sane person talking. You need help.’

  The figure rose suddenly, and walked slowly toward Khaos. ‘I have all the help I need. I don’t need you.’ Marla stepped for the first time into the moonlight, and it was clear to see that all was not well. Her eyes were huge and wide, staring unblinkingly, and somehow she seemed older; her skin grey and thin like tissue paper. Her mouth was set in a thin-lipped purse, and her expression did not change as she spoke. ‘I am stronger than I ever have been!’ she declared.

  ‘What have you done, Marla? What’s happened to you?’ Khaos shivered. The air seemed colder.

  ‘Don’t act stupid, Khaos. You know very well what is going on. You’ve been waiting for it, haven’t you?’ she stared at Khaos triumphantly.

  ‘The demon… The demon has manifested, hasn’t it?’ gulped Khaos, uncertainly. Something about Marla made her feel… Itchy. Unclean.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The demon Envy? Where is it?’ Khaos glanced around, half expecting to see it lurking in the shadows.

  Marla paused for a long time, and then let loose a hysterical laugh, which freakishly, did not reach her unsmiling mouth. ‘Demon! How ridiculous! My dear!’ she chuckled. ‘My dear, I’m afraid you are mistaken. There’s no demon. Where did you get that idea from?’ as she said this, there was a sickening movement under the skin of forehead. Khaos stared in horror. Had she really seen that?

  ‘Marla, that mirror…’ Khaos stuttered, staring at her forehead still. ‘A demon possessed it, and spoke to you from within. It is trying to consume you!’

  ‘Khaos, don’t be ridiculous!’ laughed Marla again, the whispering voice echoing her horribly. ‘You can’t surely mean my beloved mirror. The only supernatural being that has spoken to me through that is a wonderful angel.’

  ‘It’s no angel.’

  ‘No. You’re wrong,’ her voice slithered. ‘It is an angel of truth, who shows me how much better life could be.’ Again, there was a sickening shift under her skin, this time near her left eye.

  ‘I’m afraid it has tricked you, Marla. It’s not an angel. It’s a demon! And it’s only desire is to fill you with cruel jealousy and destroy you! It is like a parasite, feeding off you, taking over you. You must not let it!’

  ‘My dear Khaos, you are ridiculous. There’s nothing to fear.’ As she said this, there was another shift, a
nd this time Khaos saw it clearly; something dark grey and slimy moved from one side of Marla’s face to the other, under the skin, sliding across her eyeballs grotesquely. Khaos shuddered, her stomach turned at the sight of it. She realised where she had seen this unblinking, dissatisfied face before. It was the face of the child, Envy, which she had seen at the scene of Abel’s death, in the beginning of time.

  ‘Marla,’ said Khaos in sudden, horrified realisation. ‘It’s already in you.’

  ‘What are you talking about!?’ she laughed again, her voice becoming hysterical. ‘I feel GREAT!’

  ‘Marla…’ Khaos was lost for words, as before her eyes Marla started turning a strange colour; her already pasty skin turned a waxy, pale purple; the eyes bulged even more; the mouth tightened, as if trying to restrain itself. Her whole body shook, shivering as if she was cold or had a fever.

  ‘Marla? You’re not well…’ Khaos began, when Marla suddenly hunched right over, clutching her stomach as if she were going to be sick. Khaos, against her better judgement, felt compassion for her, and reached out to touch her shoulder. Her hand felt sticky on contact, and when she pulled it away, a fragment of Marla’s flesh came with it, white and slimy and dead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ‘Marla!’ Khaos cried, as Marla’s violent shaking came to a head. With one last sickening, ripping noise, Marla’s body literally erupted, sending fragments of white rubbery flesh and dry blackened blood into the air. In the place where Marla had stood, was a nightmare. A grotesque, giant, demonic version of Marla; skin a slimy grey-green like a worm, fingers like claws, long and black trailed on the ground from spindly arms. Its torso was long, grey and muscular, with a sickly sheen of slime all over. Long hair matted and greasy, a face like hell itself, those huge unblinking eyes now yellowy, the pupils diamond-shaped. The jaws were wide open now, revealing a mouth full of vicious, decaying teeth, as if poised to consume everything in sight.