Sugar and Spice

by Temple Madison

  The room began to reel as the excitement increased. The mutation was progressing. Finally, she turned and ran onto the stage and slipped back behind the shrubs and bushes. She leaned against a wall, the mutation grabbing her, refusing to let go. Why was this happening to her? The evening was too young, but she couldn’t stop it. The power of the moon’s rays sizzled throughout her body, and she had no choice but to obey. Her hair was becoming red and bristly, her body growing into a voluptuous Amazon, her clothes shredding.

  And then it happened.

  Spice roared to life.

  Evil such as she’d never known filled her.

  She burst out of her hiding place, and a gasp sounded all over the club. She looked down at the men, her eyes raking across each one. She was no longer particular about her prey. Any one of them would do.

  She licked the air, tasting the delicious essence of hundreds of lusty men. From out of the gloom of the stage, she heard footsteps and whirled around. A man suddenly appeared, walked to the lamppost, and stopped, looking around. He lingered for a moment as if he waited for someone. Finally, impatient, he began to pace as he looked down at his watch. She crept along the simulated bushes, drawing closer and closer, the men in the audience yelling, whistling with each roll of the drum. The cymbals crashed, a violent roar came out of her mouth, and she pounced on him.

  At that moment Spice looked down into the eyes of Casey Wilson and saw lust turn to panic. With a vicious growl, she bit down into his flesh, tasting his metallic blood as it bubbled to the surface. She was so hungry, and it had been so long since she’d had human prey, that even when the blood lessened, she squeezed the wound, forcing more blood out.

  She couldn’t get enough.

  The crowd turned wild.

  When she heard her name bellowed out above the roar of the crowd, she looked up, and there stood Judas just beyond the footlights staring at her. Seeing him knocked her out of her euphoria and made her realize where she was. She looked down at the blood that pooled around the body and the blood that dripped from her shredded costume. She felt her bloody face, and suddenly it wasn’t an innocent street scene with actors acting out their parts anymore. Now the blinding lights not only exposed her mutated flesh, it exposed her guilt.

  Jumping down off the stage, she fought her way through the men, slammed out of the club, and ran. The darkness of the woods called to her, but something inside her made her run the other way, toward the cemetery, toward the church, and toward the only man who could give her what she hungered for. As she neared it, the deep shadows of night leaned long and low across the trails between the graves. The tombstones and mausoleums took on the eerie complexion of a haunted night as she hid there, watching.

  Subtle movement near the fence caught her attention.

  Who could it be? It was late for anyone to be in the cemetery since most people avoided the reminder of death at this hour.

  Suddenly, movement again.

  Whoever it was seemed to be heading away from the old part of the cemetery to the new. She heard footsteps crunching on dirt and pebbles, scraping on cement.

  There it was again.

  Patches of moonlight caught the backward collar.

  It was him!

  She crouched down behind a tombstone still watching while he moved around something that looked like a hill of fresh dirt. Her attention was taken by something blowing in the wind. As she loped toward it, she saw that it was a piece of material. A shroud had been pulled off a dead body and lay loose. She grabbed it and put it up to her nose. The odor of decay, blood, earth, and age clung to the threads. Her tongue licked at it, tasting flavors of flesh and blood.

  Blood hunger spiked in her body. She sucked the cloth until the metallic taste of blood ran across her tongue. Blood of the dead.

  She dropped to her knees before the grave that someone had invaded and began digging. Her talons performed the work of claws, working quickly on the freshly dug grave. When she reached the coffin, long ribbons of drool fell from her mouth. The corpse seemed fresh, not more than a day old.

  Never embalmed, thought Spice.

  Strange. Why was the body of a middle-aged, plump man still full of blood? What, or who, had ripped the protective shroud from around the body? Spice leaned closer to the blood feast, climbed down into the grave, and clawed at the man’s flesh. Her fangs pierced veins and her tongue lapped at the river of blood that spread across the corpse. Mouthfuls of flesh were swallowed with the liquid until her eyes began to droop with the warmth of satisfaction. After minutes, maybe hours, of scratching and tearing at the body, she fell back, the corpse mutilated beyond recognition.

  “Do you like the meal I prepared for you?”

  Spice jerked around, her eyes falling on the face she knew must be Lupercus. He was looking at her with a devilish leer.

  “I took him from the coroner at the local funeral parlor and brought him here. Just died. Hadn’t even been embalmed yet.” His devilish leer turned somber, flames of fire leaping from his eyes. “Now that you know who your master is, you will do as I command. Do you understand? You summoned me. Remember? After you killed your own son, stabbing him in the heart.”

  Spice slowly came out of her mutation, and everything he said brought the horrible memories back to her. She could see herself crouching over the body of Cristo, lifting her fist and raging at the gods.

  Go ahead, you bastards, send me your worst! Do you hear? Anyone! Your highest, most powerful…

  “Well, here I am, my dear. All the way from the Black Heavens, another name for…Hell.”

  Fully changed, Sugar turned to him slowly, anger surging so high in her that she choked on it. She gasped and growled as she rose from the hole and began advancing on Lupercus.

  “You fucking bastard! You killed the man in my life, and then you killed my sons!” She continued to advance on him, her snarling voice digging deep into her throat. “I’ll rip your balls off, do you hear? I’ll cut you up and serve you for dinner! You made me this way, and you’ll pay for it! When the next full moon comes around, I’ll come looking for you! I’ll rip you to shreds! Do you understand me? I’ll tear out your throat and drink your blood!”

  “Kill me?” Lupercus churned out a sinister chuckle. “I’m afraid you can’t. You see, I’m immortal. I will live forever. If you harm one hair on my head, I will simply retire for a short time and come back stronger than ever.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she hissed.

  “Watch,” Lupercus growled.

  Lupercus knew he no longer had anything to hide and slowly began changing from a cleric’s clothes to a flowing, godly raiment, his skin turning to a red, blood-like blush, and his horns growing to a grand proportion. His widow’s peak lowered while his dark mane blew in the wind, making him resemble a wild man. His fingers stretched into talons, and his teeth sharpened to canine length. A pointed nose and chin gave him a devilish look, and a blood-red mouth twisted into a snake-like leer.

  His evil had deformed him.

  “This is who I am, Sugar, the God of Evil. I lust after it like a human lusts for sex. To me, a tearing of flesh is foreplay, a stabbing is a kiss, and it all leads to death…an orgasm. I live in the shadows of dark graves. I’m the blood-sucking vampire, the flesh-tearing werewolf, and the insane grave robber. I live in the sinister darkness at the top of the stairs, behind old portraits. I am the dangerous spider that builds the web and then traps the fly in it. I am the darkness beneath creaking furniture, the monster in the closet, and the venom in a snake. I cause chaos around the world. I am the bomb that wipes out villages, killing innocent women and children. I am famine, plague, and disease. I am a simple lie or the foulest of murderers. I lie in wait, driving a husband to the brink until he kills his family, or the teenager who defies his parents and takes his friends on a wild ride in his father’s car and all end up dead. I am a devil that sits on a child’s shoulder and tells him to steal from his mother’s purse. You see, Sugar, I cannot help who I am an
y more than you can help who you are. And now, you are mine!”

  Her anger melted away and turned to fear. She’d never seen anything like him and cringed as he loomed tall above the grave like an evil giant. She’d sworn a vow to beat him, but how could she? If he was human, or if he were like other men, it would be different, but he wasn’t. He was from Hell, an evil god that would go on living forever. Tears of defeat slowly coursed down her cheeks. What would she do? If she’d only listened to—

  Judas!

  He was her only hope now. Where was he?

  “He’s gone,” Lupercus said, reading her mind. “Gone back to Hell, where he belongs.”

  “You’re lying! He wouldn’t leave me, he—”

  “Why wouldn’t he? You’ve constantly pushed him away. I guess he decided to take your advice.”

  Fear clutched Sugar’s spine. She knew Lupercus might be right when she remembered seeing him tonight staring at her from the audience. She would never forget the look on his face as long as she lived. Yes, he was gone. At that moment he’d given up on her. And why not? She never followed his advice. She always pushed him away, telling him she didn’t need his help. And now, when she needed him more than ever—

  Oh, Judas, where are you?

  Chapter 21

  “It’s Judas!” came one breathy, feminine voice.

  Hearing the name, gloriously permed heads of every color popped out of their apartments at the same time. Leaving their attendants bewildered, they rushed out, dressed only in flowing night clothes and robes.

  “I thought he was on a mission.”

  “Look,” one of the women said, “something is different. He…is that a mustache?”

  “I love it!” came another voice. “It gives him a look of delicious maturity, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yes, but there’s…” Suddenly a collective gasp was heard.

  “It’s a scar,” they exclaimed in unity. “There! Around his eye!”

  One of the women smiled. “Yessss,” she hissed. “It adds boldness to his features, don’t you think? Turns that pretty boy look of his into one of sexy, bad-boy rebellion.” She cocked her head as she looked at him. “Does he seem bigger, or is that just my imagination?”

  * * * *

  Soft feminine hands of every kind eagerly reached out and caressed his arms and shoulders as he passed, but he impatiently shook them off. He was no longer interested. When he compared even the most beautiful to Sugar, not one could measure up.

  No, it wasn’t love.

  He didn’t know love, how it felt. To know love, you would have to know God, and he knew only evil, Satan’s evil, Satan’s lust, Satan’s lascivious fucking parties that lasted for days. He was well versed in all things erotic, orgies that included every position imaginable, tying up, strapping down, domination, submission, spanking, yes, he knew all that, but not love.

  No, he didn’t want Sugar’s love, her body would do.

  He stopped at a doorway guarded by hellish creatures clad in helmets and uniforms, each with their spears crossed in front of the doorway to secure the entrance. He conversed with each one, making a quiet demand that he be granted access to the Royal Hall on business. Finally the creatures pulled their spears back, leaving the way into the chamber wide open.

  He stepped inside, his eyes raking over everyone present, looking for his father’s face. He saw him leaning over a table full of maps, charts, and books and informed the gatekeeper who he was and who he was here to see. In only seconds a strong voice announced his presence, and the huddle his father was in broke up.

  “Judas! What is this? Have you already taken care of the problem on Earth?”

  “No, Father,” Judas replied, “and I will not until I get the help I need.”

  “Help? I don’t…” His father’s words faded when he saw Judas’s scar. “Judas, you’ve been—”

  Judas’s face turned dark with rage. “Yes, Father, I’ve been injured. Unusual for someone who’s supposed to be immortal, wouldn’t you say?” His gaze dug deep into his father’s guilty eyes, waiting for an explanation. “Well? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you? Tell you what, my son?”

  “You know very well what I’m talking about. My mortality. Why didn’t you tell me I was mortal? It may not have been important to you, but for me, it means my life. I’ve fought many battles for the Black Heavens, Father, and you knew that in any one I could have been slain, yet you let me go, never telling me the truth. Why?”

  “Is that why you came back?” his father asked. “To confront me with this foolish question?”

  “Foolish? Is that what it is to you?”

  “Judas, there was no need to tell you. The gods provided you with powers, and you used them admirably.”

  “Powers that I can put on or take off like armor. Did they cover me? No. I stood out on countless battlefields exposed to all kinds of danger. Yes, I had powers, but they couldn’t stop a siege of arrows upon my body. My God, I wasn’t even given a warrior’s armor or a shield for my own protection. I shudder when I think of the chances I took.”

  He looked at Judas with shifting, guilty eyes. “It is your mortality that makes you talk like this. The mind of a mortal works differently than a dev…one of us. I ask you again, why are you here?”

  “I’ve returned to engage some troops.”

  “Troops to protect a woman from one insane god?”

  “Father, it isn’t as simple as that, and you know it. He’s like a child with a toy. He knows I have no powers to fight him with and flaunts it in my face. These powers you’ve equipped me with are useless against a god. And now that I know I’m mortal, I could never equal him in battle. That’s why I need help.”

  “I’m afraid it’s impossible. There are none available.”

  Judas felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. For the first time in his life he felt vulnerable, alone, expected to fight a battle without weapons. “What can you do? Can you at least tell me something, anything, that will give me an advantage over him?”

  The Demon Lord thought for a moment as he stroked his chin with his taloned fingers. Finally he looked at Judas. “I know nothing. You will have to take your chances with him.”

  Harz, the goddess who teaches the act of poisoning, jumped to her feet and ran to him. “Tell him!”

  “I can’t!” the Demon Lord hissed.

  “You must! You’re leaving him without any defense.”

  “Father,” Judas said, “what is this? Why won’t you help me?”

  “No. What I know is kept between the gods and the lords. It is information that has never left this chamber, and it never will.”

  “Do you want him killed?” Harz cried. “If you don’t tell him, I will!”

  Judas turned to his father. “You have information that will help me, yet you won’t tell me? Why? If it will help me defeat him, Father, I must know what it is.”

  “I said no!”

  Judas looked at his father, pain gripping his chest. “Then say goodbye to me now, Father, because I will die if I have to face Lupercus without a defense.”

  “You still have your powers, do you not?”

  “Yes, I still—”

  “That is sufficient.”

  “As Satan lives, you don’t care! I could go out there and get myself killed, and it would mean nothing to you. Why, Father? I know love is—”

  “Shhh!” his father said, looking around to see if anyone had heard. The Demon Lord’s flaming eyes stared at Judas. “Love? What is love? You know what I taught you. Love is for the weak, the spineless. It’s an emotion that is not part of this world. The only love you will see here is the love of our own flesh. We indulge it every chance we get. For hunger we gorge ourselves, for sex we choose only the most beautiful, and for entertainment we watch underlings die in games of chance.

  “I knew what sending you to Earth would do to you, but I had no choice. As long as you were here, you had scales over your eyes.” He l
ifted a hand dramatically. “Now…behold! The blind can see! I knew it would happen one day.” He turned his back on his son. “Go! Go back to the world you really belong to. The world where the wind is sweet, the rain as fresh as if it had come from heaven’s own mountain streams. I should have never taken you out of it.”

  “Come with me, Father. You were good at one time. Come with me and enjoy that cool breeze. Step in the cold, fresh water of a babbling brook and feel the push of the water as it rolls across your feet. Here are only burned-out cinders, black winds, heat from the constant flames, soot storms—”

  The Demon Lord turned abruptly, evil mixed with anger on his face. “I made my choice a long time ago. One day I will become the Lord of the Realm, and,” he saw the sorrowful look in Judas’s eyes, “being a lord here is better than being nothing somewhere else. Just go, son…and don’t come back.”

  “Yes, Father,” Judas whispered, a lump in his throat. “One more thing. I need currency. Not being familiar with Earth, I neglected to take any with me. I wear someone else’s clothes, eat other people’s food. I need enough to get by until I can…” Judas was going to say return, but the word got stuck in his throat because he knew he never would. He would either be dead or wandering all alone in a world of strangers.

  “Stop by Earth’s coin exchange and tell them I sent you.”

  Judas made no reply but turned abruptly and was striding out quickly when he felt a tug on his arm. He turned and saw Harz. She grabbed him as if to embrace him, but instead, she put her bold red mouth up to his ear and whispered something.

  He grabbed the tops of her arms. “Are you sure?”

  “I am certain, Judas. It is so, I promise you.”

  “Thank you, Harz. This is exactly what I need.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Before he turned to leave, he looked up at his father, who cast sad eyes upon him.

  Without a word, he turned to go.

  * * * *

  He flew recklessly through the gray, billowing clouds that whirled thickly around him, finally bursting through the invisible veil that separated the Black Heavens from the thick crust of the earth. He looked upward as he entered the black tunnel and saw many dark miles stretched out above him. He could just barely see the glittering expanse, peppered with twinkling stars that were like jewels against a black velvet sky. He flew toward them. When he burst free, he slowed himself down and turned, seeing a shining Atlantic that looked as if it were hiding the dazzling sun beneath its watery depth. Without wasting a moment, he streaked forward, away from the dense Amazon forest that surrounded the volcanic pit from which he had erupted. With an excited heart, he flew quickly through the cold nighttime skies until he saw the Atlantic Coast, and home.