by Elle Klass
The remainder of the week I allowed my parents to think I was drinking the warm milk and honey as I took it to my bedroom each night, tossing the potion out the window and leaving the empty glass on my nightstand. When I heard my father’s snores I snuck down to his office and, taking a big risk, brought Rabina to ground level to hunt.
After school I met Clara and Mark. He showed me how to form a light ball in my hand and taught us control over it. “Feel the buzz inside you and imagine it in your hand,” Mark coached.
It worked as I stared at the light buzzing in my palm. It was small at first but I learned to make it grow. He taught us control over our other powers, making me suddenly realize I was an empath which meant one of my parents, as Mark had said, was an empath too. It only came as a shock because if I could read emotions so could my parent, but neither had displayed it. If they could read me they’d know about Rabina, yet they slept soundly every night.
“Is it possible to have a different power than your parent?” I asked.
Mark raised a brow and I felt his mind push into my own. It was subtle and that’s why I hadn’t noticed when he first did it but now that I was learning control over my magic I understood what he was doing.
“Impressive,” he said, avoiding my question.
“I felt you there.”
“Just because they don’t use the ability doesn’t mean it’s not there. Maybe they never used it and don’t know they have it. Some witches never develop their power.” He placed a palm against my light ball and arched it like a bridge.
Clara joined our bridge of light spanning it in a third direction. “My father is the witch,” she paused. “Or a warlock, right? That would be the proper term.”
Mark chuckled. “That is what humans call us. We call each other witches of the light, male and female the same.”
The night before my birthday and the revealing of my witch parent. The heat of the excitement kept me awake. I hadn’t been down to see Rabina the previous night, playing it safe, but I desired to see her now. To spend the night nocturnal, like her.
When I entered the corridor I felt something different -- a penetrating blackness. Its claws dug deep into my soul as if attempting to pull it out of me. Daggers of pain brought me to my knees. Rabina’s pain. She wasn’t alone. Something was there with her.
I fought the darkness and pushed onto unsteady feet, retreating to my father’s office. I needed the sword. I could use it as a bargaining chip or a weapon. I rifled through my fathers desk, finding a set of keys along with ink and paper. I closed the desk drawers, not caring how loud I was. All I could feel was relentless pain and a deep well of darkness.
I felt along the bookcases lining the walls finding a secret door below. Inside was a long metal box that was locked. Remembering the keys in my father’s desk I retrieved them and, finding one small enough to fit the lock, opened the metal box.
An orange glow radiated from the orange stone in the hilt, causing the silver blade to have a slight golden hue. I pulled the sword out, closed the box and slid it back into its hidden home then proceeded, lugging it through the corridor.
It was so heavy I didn’t know if I could use it properly, but I had to try. If something was there with her, something evil, I had to try.
The closer I got the more of Rabina’s pain I felt. It wasn’t only pain but hunger pangs like someone was dangling a beating heart in front of her while preventing her from getting to it.
Go back please, Isandro, Rabina’s voice came into my head. She hadn’t done that for a while, stirring the already bubbling tension I felt.
Hoping her telepathy worked like Mark’s I responded No, I can’t do that.
Rabina’s pleas for me to leave stung my brain as I pulled the stone from the wall and her door opened. I couldn’t get past how someone else could be in the room with her. I always walked her back and locked the door. As impossible as it seemed, nothing was impossible. The last few weeks had taught me that.
The sword’s hilt heavy in my hands, I maneuvered inside the dark room using its light to scan the area until I found Rabina’s face. Her eyes widened as they took me in. Behind her stood a monster. Its claws surrounded Rabina’s chest and fangs protruded from its mouth.
Something furry brushed past my leg. The light from the sword illuminated the animal enough for me to see the fluffy black and gray ringed tail of a raccoon scuttle into the hall. I turned back in time to see Rabina pounce at me, sinking her teeth into my neck as she pushed me backwards, like a wild animal, into the wall. I thrust the sword with both hands. It was an instinct. The blade ripped across Rabina’s neck. She dropped to the ground and I plunged it through her heart, forgetting how weighty the sword was. The motion felt natural. Tears rolled over my cheeks. The sword plunked to the dirt as my hands released it.
A maniacal laugh erupted from the monster as something stung the opposite side of my neck from Rabina’s bite. I sucked in all its emotional darkness; fear and sorrow filled me full, and I pushed it out into the creature. It flew backwards and crumpled to the floor, surrounded in its own misery.
A heavy wind rushed across the room, knocking me to my knees.
“You finally found it. Very good.” Lawrence walked out from a dark, shadowy corner and leaned over, grasping the hilt of the sword. How had I missed him and how did he get here? I concentrated all my light and formed a buzzing ball in each hand then let them go. One sailed towards the monster, the other Lawrence, before I even considered what I was doing. It was an impulse.
Two more light balls whizzed past me, humming in my ears, catching my own balls of light and forming a super ball like a cannon it exploded, sinking deep inside the monster and Lawrence. It cooked them from the inside out. The monster becoming a pile of ash and Lawrence knocked backwards to his butt. My father’s sword loosened from his hands. It turned on its own and plunged into his heart. The golden light from its hilt illuminating black blood as it soaked his shirt.
“Isandro,” my mother’s voice wailed into my ear and arms wrapped around me, electricity buzzing through me.
“Mom?”
She twirled me around and placed her hands on my cheeks. Her eyes searching mine, drifting to my neck. “Blood. You’ve been bitten. Come.”
She called my father as she draped an arm around me and guided me out of the room. His large footfalls pounded in my ear louder than normal and I suddenly became weightless as I dropped to the ground. She is the witch, was my final thought as I passed out.
Chapter 9
I woke on my bed, alone in my room. My parents’ voices and an unfamiliar female voice were loud and clear as if they were standing beside me.
“There’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry. I wish I could, but there is no cure for a Bloodseeker bite. You know that and we cannot change this. The moment he drinks human blood he will become one of them,” said the unfamiliar voice.
“But he’s a light witch. I saw it. He killed those Bloodseekers. He killed them. How could he do that if there is no cure?” said my mother, her voice shaky from crying yet firm in anger. I was numb to her pain. I could no longer feel it. Gazing at my hands I attempted to force the light into my palms but I couldn’t find it. The spark was absent.
The unknown female responded, “But he’s not a Slayer. They are the only light witches truly exempt from Bloodseeker bites and only after they bond with their amulet.”
The words and names foreign to me. The Slayer word came up again. What was a Slayer? My mother called Rabina and the monster Bloodseekers. Is that what they were? Is that why Rabina needed blood? Fresh blood from animals? My heart broke in two when I remembered the pain and desperation when Rabina sunk her teeth into me. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes and my nose stuffed up when I remembered I’d killed her with my father’s sword.
What she was wasn’t her fault. I replayed it through my head, the conversations between the adults moving to the background as I considered every option and what I could have done differen
tly instead of killing her.
My father’s loud voice cut in between the arguing females. It sliced through their words, shutting each up. “My son will not become a Bloodseeker! I won’t allow it. He will drink the blood of animals.” He stomped towards my room, each step so loud it brought pain to my ears as if they were on fire.
My door opened with a gentle hand, not what I expected of my father, but his bulky form told me it was him. His eyes rested on mine and he combed my hair back. “My son. You are awake.” He wrapped his thick arms around my back and lifted me up, holding me tight against his chest.
Thump, thump. I heard each beat of his heart. It grew louder with each pound. His blood moved through his veins and arteries with a hiss. Crimson desires washed through my mind as I grasped what was left of my humanity, yelling in my head at my father, No, papa. I don’t want to do this. Kill me, papa.
He let me go and I wiggled backwards, cupping my hands around my legs.
He called my mom. Her light steps sounded against the wooden stairs. “Keep him here. Don’t allow him to move. He is ready to feed.”
Did he hear me? How was that possible unless he, too, was a witch?
She raised her hand and gave it a twist, tears streaming down her face. A force wrapped around me, suspending me in place. I couldn’t wiggle a toe, much less get out of bed. My mom was telekinetic like Clara. I tried to think of any time she used the magic before tonight and couldn’t. I’d never seen it.
If telepathy worked on my father I hoped it would work on my mom. Tell me everything please. Keep my mind from this hunger.
Through sniffles she began. “Your father is the agate Slayer and empath. I’m a telekinetic light witch. Centuries ago an evil sorceress created the monsters you killed downstairs. They are named Bloodseekers because of their thirst for blood. Seven light witches came together and spelled seven amulets, each a different stone and color of visible light -- the Slayers. Each is from a light witch bloodline.” She broke down in tears. I did my best to soothe her but my mind was slipping as I craved her blood more and more with each beat of her heart. My father was right to have her hold me in position and her telekinetic grip never let up as she finished the story.
I lost my light witch powers that day but never succumbed to the bloodlust. At first, my father kept me full on fresh animal blood. When he realized it satiated me he started to let me hunt on my own. I came and went from the tunnel and he designed another that went straight to my bedroom. Eventually we built interconnecting tunnels.
My parents buried me in a proper funeral. They are the only two people who know I still exist. It is night when I sit outside Clara’s window and watch her sleep. She is my heart’s desire but one I can never fulfill. She can’t know I exist. She also is directly related to a Slayer -- the beryl telekinetic Slayer.
The Begotten is the name I use for what I am. Rabina was the first until she made me. Now I scour the city at night searching for others like me, saving them from turning into bloodsucking, heartless monsters. We feast on animal blood, but never on humans. It is the only way we can keep any part of our humanity.
Thank you so much for reading Magic, Mystery & Zombies. I hope you were well entertained. Please consider leaving a review.
Elle Klass writes a variety of fiction. Take a look at all her books and series. The adventure doesn’t have to end and look for Lars Volume 2 of hidden journals coming soon!
