Awakening

by Catrina Burgess

  A shockwave punch through the air and knocked me back off my feet. I opened my eyes and turned to see Luke holding on to the huge man’s leg with one hand as his other hand waved in the air. Latin words flew from his mouth. He had called forth his banshees to protect me. Luke’s banshees rose up and washed forward like a tidal wave, crashing against Macaven’s spirits. High pitched, wrenching screams filled the air as tortured souls clashed and smashed into each other. Each time the spirits collided, a wave of energy exploded out from them, shooting through the room. Macaven’s spirits were overwhelming Luke’s with superior numbers and darker intent. A few of Macaven’s banshees broke through and headed toward me. As they neared I raised my hands in front of me, shouting out in rage at the swirling spirits.

  The first banshee struck me, slashing with ghostly, but still quite painful, claws. They would kill me if I didn’t do something. Did I have the magic to defend myself? I’d helped a spirit cross over to the light, but I could feel the waves of evil coming from Macaven’s banshees. These creatures had little in common with the light. Another painful slash across my back and then a deep cut into my shoulder. Whatever I was going to try, I had to do it now.

  Was it possible to open up a portal straight to the fires of hell? Fire. I had used fire to severe the tie of the dying child from this world to the next. Could I bring the fire forward again? I closed my eyes and tried to remember the words I had spoken from the book. There was no cream to induce the twilight sleep. I had to find my way back to that mental state all on my own. My life depended on it. Anger sharpened my focus. I imagined the fire in my mind. Watched the flames flicker into life. I pushed all the pain and rage pumping through my veins into those flames. And then I opened my eyes and reached out, and with every ounce of strength I possessed, I pushed the fire out toward the banshee closest to me. A blast of red orange heat radiated out and encircled it. The creature’s screams filled my ears. Ash and embers floated through the air and, in the empty space where the banshee had just been, drops of molten liquid rained to the floor.

  I paused for a second in complete shock. Even among the death and chaos, the enormity of what I had just done hit me. I had magic as powerful as Luke’s. I’d used it to protect myself. I was no longer a victim in this game. I closed my eyes and reached for the fire once more. I pushed it out toward the spirits that still circled me. Screams of pain and horror filled the air as one and then another was consumed by my fire.

  Another shockwave hit me and I fell back again. I felt blood trickling along my arm. I looked down at the dagger still clutched between my fingers. The dagger. I’d forgotten about it. Without it Macaven couldn’t finish his spell. If I could release the souls trapped in the knife, then Macaven would not be able to raise his demon, and my father would be free.

  I forced myself to my feet. The dagger felt warm in my hands. All I had to do was focus on the light, I could do the same thing had done for Thomas, I could free my father’s spirit from this prison and help my father cross to the other side. Without my father’s power, Macaven wouldn’t be able to release his spell. The dagger vibrated in my hands for a moment but then stopped. I concentrated harder. I could make out whispers on the wind. I could hear the tormented cries of the people Macaven had killed whirling around me. Vengeance, they wanted vengeance. I closed my eyes and tried harder, and the dagger in my hands started to hum. The humming grew louder. I opened my eyes to see the dagger glowing orange. Was it working? Was I releasing my father’s spirit?

  The colored light slowly began to morph, first into gray and then darker. I heard the sounds again. The ones I had listened to when I stood before the great expansion of ink black during the rituals--the unearthly snarls and unworldly sounds of dragging and thumping. I was back there now, on the edge of the abyss. I could see it in front of me. Something within it seemed to call out to the dagger, and suddenly the blackness from the abyss stretched out, and it swirled around the dagger.

  I heard Luke yell my name and the world around me exploded. There was nothing I could do as my body was thrown like a rag doll through the air and across the room. My body slammed against something hard, and everything went dark.

  When my eyes fluttered opened I cried out in pain. White hot pain shot across my temples. I forced myself to sit up and stars blazed across my eyes. Something hot and wet dripped down my face. I reached up and touched my forehead, it was warm and sticky. I put my fingers down in front of my face and looked at them in shock. It was blood--I was bleeding. I had been thrown into the wall across the room. I was lucky I hadn’t broken my neck.

  That’s when I saw it, floating a few feet away. It was a cloud of black, but as I looked closer I realized it wasn’t a cloud, it had a shape--a human form, a body, not a body of a man or woman, but something else. There was a head, arms, and warped limbs. As I looked at it, I felt a pain that radiated from between my eyes. I closed my eyes and opened them again and realized in horror that the thing’s head was turning toward me. A set of eyes focused on me, and I felt nauseous and sick to my stomach.

  I heard a voice, not from outside, but from within my head. “You have released me,” the voice growled.

  The dark thing’s face morphed, and suddenly I was looking into the face of my father, but this was not the kind and loving man I knew, these eyes were red and full of evil.

  A wicked grin spread across its face.

  “Who are you?” I whispered.

  Its face morphed and my father’s features disappeared and were replaced with something warped, something that no longer resembled anything human. “They’ve names for me, but names hold power. Why would I be so foolish as to tell you mine?”

  “You’re a demon.”

  “That is what they call my kind. I prefer soul-eater, or perhaps Legion if you believe our bad press.” It went on in a movie villain voice, “We are Legion,” and laughed with a sound like cracking granite.

  This thing had come out of the black abyss. I realized the dark thing I had felt each time I had done one of the rituals, the thing out there that made me feel like a deer being hunted, it was this creature, this being. It was this demon.

  As if reading my thoughts, the demon bowed in my direction. “You are correct. I’ve been near you, following you since you began your journey into the dark arts.” The demon laughed, “When you tried to heal, your magic was barely there, but it was enough to narrow in on you.”

  “The men kept finding us. It was you, you led them to us.”

  “I didn’t think the death dealer brat had it in him. I worried he’d kill you with his inexperience during the rituals. I tried to save you from his stupidity.” Its voice slid across my mind like dirty, oily water. “I was wrong though, he did succeed. Look at what he’s done--he’s created you in your new form, just as you should be. He made you for me.”

  “Made me for you?”

  “Do you think I’d allow myself to come forth only to be bound to such a puny worthless creature?” It gestured toward Macaven. “I needed you to set me free. And here I am unbound. Now able to do whatever I please, and that pleases me well.” It turned back toward me. “You’re mine now, and that pleases me even more.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I created you.” Suddenly I was looking into my father’s face again. “True, to be released into this realm I needed the spirit of someone with incredible power to be encapsulated into the dagger, a powerful bridge to help guide me into this world. But do you think your father was the only one I could have chosen? It was because of you. I knew you would never take the journey you needed to take if your family was alive.”

  I shook my head and took a step back. “Macaven killed my family!”

  “Of course he did, at my bidding.” It looked over at Macaven. “Do you think this puny creature is capable of such an elegant plan on his own?”

  The cold chill ran down my spine. It couldn’t be true what the demon was saying. It wasn’t true. I raised a trembling hand to my fore
head. My words barely came out, “You killed my family because of me?”

  “I set you on your path. I helped guide you along. Of course, what I truly want, truly need, you aren’t yet ready to give. Not yet, but soon enough. For our fates are tightly wound together. But for now I give you a gift, something you deeply desire in return for my life. For freeing me I’ll give you a pretty present all wrapped with a shiny bow. I’ll give you your inner-most desire.”

  I heard the words whispered across a breeze. “Revenge will be yours, but it will come with a price.”

  The dark thing started floating across the room. It was heading toward Macaven. The wizard was slowly picking himself off the floor. He looked uninjured. He seemed to sense something moving in his direction. He turned and when he saw the demon his face lit with pride.

  Macaven yelled across the room, “Rise up, my brothers and sisters. Our day of glory has finally arrived, we’ve raised a piece of the greater darkness and bound it to our will. Our enemies will fall before us now. They’ll be consumed by hell’s own flames.” As the black robes began to rise from the floor and move toward Macaven, he faced the demon. “Hellion, you’ve been raised by our will. Our enemies are yours. Your power is ours to command.” With an evil grin, he pointed a hand, red with sacrificial blood, in my direction. “She came to the bait, just as you said she would, and our pact is complete. Now her usefulness is done, and she must pay for the damage she’s done. The coven has been crippled, and our plans set back years. She has to die, I want to watch her die.”

  The demon laughed again, a wicked sound. “No, you have it wrong, your usefulness is done. You fool. An unbound arch-demon, commander in the devil’s army is now before you, free to use you as he will.” A deep growl came from the demon’s mouth, “But you’re not worthy to serve in my army, so you’ll feed my hunger instead.”

  Macaven stumbled back, his eyes showing white with horror. He screamed at me. “You released it before we could bind it! Do you know what you’ve done? You’ve unleashed a demon onto the world with no one controlling it!”

  The demon, I had released it, but I hadn’t done it on purpose. I had only wanted to help my father, but I hadn’t saved my father’s spirit. My father was now part of that unholy creature. An unholy creature I alone was responsible for setting free.

  Macaven raised his arms and shouted out words of a spell. Orange lights flew from his hands. Most of the coven still capable of action turned and ran, but three stood to fight, adding their power to Macaven’s. Their spell reached out toward the demon, enveloping it completely. Whatever they were hoping to do, it didn’t work. As the orange cloud washed over the demon it laughed and waved its hands, and slowly the cloud disappeared. The demon clapped its hands and a crack of thunder filled the air, and a black storm rolled toward the closest of the robed wizards. The storm hit the wizard and he exploded, sending a splatter of blood and chunks of flesh into the wall behind him.

  Banshees suddenly flew at the dark thing, but the demon just drew in a deep breath and inhaled one banshee and then another into itself. It seemed to grow more solid with each soul it took in. I realized in horror that the next soul the demon would consume was my brother James.

  I screamed James’s name and stood watching helplessly as the demon sucked James in. Both my father and now my brother were trapped within the wicked being.

  The demon finished off the banshees and then paused a moment before blowing a cloud of ashy black smoke into his hands. It moved its hands around, as if the cloud was clay and it was molding something. Its hands worked and worked until it seemed pleased and it dropped the object to the floor. The impact of it hitting the floor caused the ground beneath us to shake. Ever so slowly the thing grew and morphed until it took the shape of a monstrous dog. It looked like a massive pit-bull on steroids. The dog’s eyes glowed with flickering red fire as it moved to stand beside its master.

  It couldn’t be. There were no such things. But I’d seen a picture in one of Luke’s books. The dog standing before us was a hellhound, a creature out of myth and nightmare, pulled from the air by the demon. The demon pointed, and its hound leaped at the next wizard. It passed right through his falling body, ripping his soul away with a pair of red gleaming teeth. What remained of the wizard dissolved into flame. The hellhound stood gnashing its teeth as it gobbled down the wizards glowing red soul. It then turned to the last of Macaven’s supporters. A spout of flame jetted from the hellhounds mouth, and it leaped at the man, swallowing him whole. The man’s terrified screams echoed out from between the dog’s teeth. As the screams died down the dog shook its head and out sprayed a cloud of ash and embers.

  Amidst this chaos, the demon continued toward Macaven. It floated a few feet from him, completely unconcerned as Macaven flung spell after spell at it. Each spell broke harmlessly against it. When it was finally close enough, it reached out and touched a finger to Macaven’s forehead.

  Macaven screamed, and from the touch, welts spread across his face and body. He raised his hands and watched in horror as they erupted in bloody, oozing blisters. The blisters multiplied until they covered every inch of exposed flesh. They began to rupture, and the smell of infection and rotting flesh filled the room. Macaven touched a hand to his face, and a huge section of the skin slumped away, showing the grey, dying flesh beneath.

  I looked away, no longer able to stomach the sight of my vengeance. But wet, gurgling screams continued to tear through the room. The sounds he made were more terrifying than the banshees. When the world was silent again, I looked back. Macaven was dead, I was sure of it, the way his limbs were twisted in unnatural angles. The demon had given me what I wanted most--Macaven’s death.

  The demon turned toward me again, its eyes glowing brighter. I stood frozen as it came closer. It reached a slow hand out and delicately wiped a finger across my face, the skin blistering under the demon’s touch. It came away smeared in my blood. I shrank back as it raised the finger, bright red with blood, to its mouth and sucked with obvious pleasure. It gave me a wicked smile and suddenly the dark mass twisted and spun and the demon morphed and changed before my very eyes. Where it had been a seven year old girl now stood. Dark pigtails hung from each side of her head and freckles spread across her nose. It was the eyes, the color of her eyes, a reddish orange not found in nature, which gave her true identity away. And when she grinned, another chill ran down my spine. The smile was not that of an innocent child, it was an unclean, unholy, grin but it was somehow oddly familiar.

  “I’ll come for you when the time is right, and what fun we’ll have!” Before I could think of what to say or do the child turned and skipped across the room. She stopped by a broken display case that had once held an assortment of magical artifacts. With a childlike cry of delight, she pulled an antique doll from the wreckage. Its dress was shredded and fell away as the demon girl picked it up, but that didn’t seem to diminish her pleasure. She clutched the smoking doll to her chest as she turned and headed toward the door. Flames erupted behind her as she went. The room slowly began to fill with smoke as she glided out.

  The demon child whistled over her shoulder, and the hellhound followed, shrinking as it went until it was the size of a normal pit bull, but the air of menace still radiated off it as trotted through the flames.

  The demons words kept swirling around in my head. It’d said it had killed my family because of me. It had wanted me to become a death dealer so I could help release it. Everything that had happened had been part of the creature’s plan. A sick and wicked plan to get itself released unbound. I couldn’t believe it, everything I had been through, the horror, the nightmare, the rituals, had all of it really been just part of the creature’s plan?

  I looked across the room--bodies were thrown everywhere like discarded rag dolls. The dead and injured littered the ground around me--the sounds of moaning and screaming filled the air. All this destruction I had caused. In a moment of insanity I had rushed in bent only on revenge and I had set all
of this in motion. How many people had died tonight because of me? And my family. I was the reason they were dead. Macaven might have killed them, but it was because of me he went after them in the first place.

  Luke. I suddenly desperately wanted him by my side. He would know what to do. He would somehow help me make everything all right again. It was my fault the creature was loose, but we could go after the demon. We would find some kind of spell in one of the old books that would force that thing back to hell. If someone had found a way to kill and force demons back into oblivion before then there was a way, we just had to find it. And maybe by doing so I could find some kind of redemption for the things I’d done.

  A fire was blazing on the other side of the room. Black smoke swirled into the air and up toward the ceiling. I had to find Luke and Freddy, we needed to get out of here before the whole mansion went up in flames.

  I moved through the room and searched each face looking for Luke and then I saw him by the altar. A part of the gray stone had fallen and was now lying on top of him.

  “Luke!” I cried out his name and rushed toward him.

  Darla was next to him. She was cradling Luke’s head in her lap.

  I could see blood streaming out from beneath the stone that trapped him. I reached out and screamed his name again, “Luke!”

  I was almost to his side when hands grabbed me.

  It was Freddy--he wrapped his arms around my waist. “You can’t touch him!”