Forfeit Souls (The Ennead Book 1)

by Lila Huff

  “Yes. It’s definitely a first.” He laughed. “You didn’t know what was happening?”

  “I thought it was just another hallucination. Things got pretty confusing; I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.”

  “And how do you know this is real?” he asked, teasing me.

  “The black sand would have come back by now.” I said it as though it was the most natural response in the world. And it was, to me. “Now, about those clothes.”

  I looked up at him curiously and was met by a smile. “I was optimistic,” he said, taking my hand the same way he had, what seemed like hours ago, and leading me to a door along the back wall.

  He opened the door and ushered me into a vast closet. Light was filtering in through a small window that was covered by a heavy white shade. I stopped, looking apprehensively at the window. Didn’t I want to die before? I should have just stepped outside.

  “Don’t worry. Sunlight won’t kill you. It’s uncomfortable to be in, it’s like a burning sensation throughout your body, but it’s not lethal; just uncomfortable.” I looked at him skeptically.

  “You’re not a vampire,” he smiled. He was amused by my assumptions. “Vampires don’t exist.” The skepticism grew on my face and he digressed. “Not in the way that human’s paint them anyway.”

  “Am I like Martin then?” I laughed at the joke.

  He thought for a moment before nodding his head. “Romero’s a-typical vampire may have come the closest yet, but only in the detachment from the mythical “givens” that every school child learns.”

  He continued to look at me expectantly and I stepped forward, pushing my hand out toward the light. It was an irritating tingling sensation, like a rash, but it was not unbearable. The light didn’t hurt my eyes now, it seemed brighter than it had before I had died, but it was not the searing pain that it had been.

  “What am I then?” I asked, looking at the thin strip of light that fell on my hand.

  “I’m not the one to explain that.” His eyes dropped to the floor and his expression became apologetic.

  I could see that I was not going to receive any more answers from my caretaker.

  I turned back to the clothes that were hanging in front of me. “Wow,” I said as I looked at the assortment. “This is a definite change from the first closet.”

  “Like I said, I was optimistic, and Lizzie helped out a lot.” He was walking toward the door. “I’ll wait outside so that you can change.” And with that, he left me to my own devices in the closet.

  I pushed apart the dresses, sorting through them. They were all dark jewel tones. None of them were black like the dress I wore now. There was even one that was white, but it looked too much like a wedding gown for me to even consider. Even if it hadn’t resembled a wedding dress, I was a monster now – regardless of the fact I didn’t know what kind of a monster I was – I didn’t deserve to wear white. I idly wondered if I would find any jeans in the drawers in front of me. Opening them I quickly realized I would not.

  Putting on the deep plum gown I sorted through the long rows of shoes. Once again, I heard the piano music from before. It was louder now, as though it were closer. I stood in the closet listening to the soft music for a moment. It was a beautiful sound.

  When I emerged from the closet I found the source of the music was the enormous grand piano in the corner of the room. Demetrius sat at it with his eyes closed, unmoving except for his fingers which flew across the keys.

  I sat on the bed that had served as my grave for the last six months and watched him. He opened his eyes as the tune changed, and stared directly at me. It saddened me to think that I had caused him pain because of my catatonia.

  “What now?” I repeated, quieter now than I had before.

  “I expect that Father will want to see you again.” His eyes narrowed at this, his sadness turned to the same worry I had seen when we had entered the hall. “He’ll be able to give you the answers you’ve been looking for. He’ll also want reassurance that you aren’t dead.”

  “But I am.” I said, without humor, and quickly changed the subject, realizing what I had said. “You told me that you would let me know what your business was when I could take care of myself.” I desperately hoped that he would answer this question. “Is that now?”

  “I guess so.” The music stopped and he was at my side in an instant. Taking my hand he led me to the high backed Victorian sofa. “Father and the others here are not like the others of our kind,” he said as we sat down. “Not like the monster that attacked you.”

  I waited, not knowing what to say to this revelation. He didn’t think of himself or the others here as monsters. Weren’t we?

  “Perhaps I should explain a few things.” Demetrius smiled at me with a certain understanding in his expression, “I know you have a lot of questions, but there are some myths I should dispel. First of all, you know about the sun and, as you will have noticed from your small hiatus from existence, the human needs you once had no longer apply. We don’t need to eat or sleep; we have no need of water.”

  I had realized toward the end of my attempts to discontinue my existence, that I had no use for my lungs anymore, that months without food did not weaken me, and that sleep evaded me. Perhaps this was a type of Hell.

  “There is not much that I can tell you other than that, Father has asked that I not speak about this until you get a chance to speak with Mother.” He said, his face darkening apologetically.

  “Mother?” I asked. It was beginning to sound a bit cult like.

  “Yes, let me get back to your question. I’m sorry that I went off on that tangent.”

  “Don’t worry, I do that all the time.” My words seemed to comfort him at least slightly.

  “Well, you wanted to know what our business is.” He sighed slightly. “We are trying to rid the world of Hephaestus and the others of his kind. If you want to know more, you will have to wait. Father was very specific that I not tell you certain things, and I am sorry for that.”

  “Can I ask why you are on this crusade?” I asked the question without the slightest hope of having it answered.

  He looked at me warily for a moment. “Because, like you, Hephaestus changed me. Father was only just in time to save me, as he was with you.” He sighed and the sadness returned, his brow knitting together. “Many others have not been so lucky.”

  I wasn’t sure if I would call this existence luck. But I suppose that their quest to rid the world of one maniac was not such a bad purpose.

  “Come along.” He held his hand out to me, “it’s time to see Father again.”

  I took the hand he offered and followed him silently back through the hall that lead to the room where I had first met Father and his “family.”

  Father met us just outside the door, as though he had known exactly when we would arrive. “Joellen! I am so pleased to see that you’ve chosen to join us again!”

  I smiled, hoping that I would seem as pleased as he was hoping.

  “Let me introduce you to my family.” Father led us back through the large doors and into the hall. “Nathaniel and Christine have been with us since the early eighteen fifties.”

  The two he motioned to were standing to the side, talking quietly when they were introduced, and they seemed to glide across the floor toward us. They were both tall, and while Christine had a slim, athletic build, Nathaniel appeared as though his muscles would burst the seams on his coat.

  “Please, call me Christi.” The red haired Amazon seemed to be in a more accepting mood as she gently took my hand.

  “Yeah, call me Nate.” The giant of a man took my hand as it had barely left Christi’s. His hair was shorter than anyone else’s in the room.

  “We’re Lizzie and Billy.” A small voice from behind me said.

  I turned as Father spoke again, “Yes, these two are Elizabeth and William.”

  “I’m glad you’re out and about.” Lizzie had her espresso colored hair pulled back in a
braid that ran down the center of her back. The man next to her had hair that was slightly lighter and was similarly pulled back into a braid, though his stopped in the middle of his back and hers nearly reached the ground. They looked too alike to be anything but brother and sister.

  These four were glad enough to know me, but I looked to the next one to be introduced, and knew that I would not receive the same welcome.

  “This is Charlotte.” Father waived his had away toward the woman furthest from us.

  She smiled at me coolly and corrected him, “I prefer Carla.” She sounded as though she was bored, not like she held any animosity toward me. Just that she didn’t really care about anything at this moment.

  Carla was just as angelically beautiful as the rest of those standing around me, her blond hair was pulled up into a twist along the back of her head, and her face was the same pallor as those I had been introduced before, but her eyes were not the same.

  I had become used to the frightful eyes that stared back at me, but I was not prepared for their disappearance. Carla’s eyes were still the vacant black in the middle, but a light lavender seemed to be seeping in from the edges. I couldn’t help but stare at them – not that it was easy – there was a formidable height difference. I would guess that she was just over six feet.

  “I’ll explain later.” I heard Demetrius whisper in my ear. His voice was all I needed to break the hold that those eyes had on me.

  “And this,” Father continued, “Is Earl.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” The wide smile that spread across his face was as frightening as it was endearing. I shuddered away from it. “I have no other name that I prefer.”

  Earl was tall, but not the hulking mass that Nate was. He still looked to be able to take care of himself, though. Perhaps he just dressed well enough to hide his muscles. He laughed at my fearful expression and his black pompadour shook slightly. His eyes, too, were not the same. Though they were not as striking as Carla’s, there was a deep blue ring forming around the black void that had once been his iris and pupil.

  The one thing that placed all of them apart from Demetrius and I was their skin. It had a luminescent quality, like there were small streams of fiber optics that were undulating under their skin. It made their skin seem to move, like clouds stirred beneath the thin layer.

  They all seemed oddly welcoming now, as though my six month absence had been the time they had needed to chew over the idea of my presence. All except for Carla. She watched me unerringly. I don’t think those lavender eyes left me for more than a few seconds from that point on.

  “There is one other person that you must meet,” Father said, clapping his hands together out of excitement.

  He lead me to the back of the room, his face lit up with joy at who he was about to show me. I wasn’t sure whether that would be a good thing or a bad one. There was a door, just as tall as the others, that was hidden at the back of the hall. Its wood was a reddish purple like unfinished cherry. Father pushed both doors open and Demetrius and I followed him in.

  4. Training

  -Paul-

  I felt the massive creature pummel me from behind and to the left. I had braced for the impact moments before he hit me and easily turned and met my attacker, pushing against the weight of the beast.

  “He’s good,” I heard Carlo say from behind me. “He’s still only a pup and he’s already doing better than Mike.”

  “Go suck an egg,” Mike said to the dragon-headed man next to him.

  Carlo and Mike, I had come to learn, had a very tumultuous relationship. Since I had arrived they had been at each other’s throats, in the most metaphorical of ways, but I wasn’t sure that they wouldn’t end up fitting the term in a more literal sense, and soon.

  Carlo hissed at Mike through his dragon whiskers and I saw the scales, on his neck and trailing down his back, as they bristled. Mike was not in much of a better mood. He wore the head of a giant black bear and his fur was on end too, but he did not seem so menacing. Carlo often called him a teddy bear, much to Mike’s chagrin, and I had idly wondered why Mike chose to remain with the bear’s head. We could change our alternate appearance at will.

  Perhaps Mike and Carlo’s quarrels were caused by their age difference, Mike was the youngest of the Asakku after myself, and Carlo was over six hundred years his senior. Perhaps it was the societies they had grown up in that caused their discord, Carlo had lived in fourteenth century Italy, joining Gallu in 1335, while Mike had lived through the 1960s and 70s of American culture. Whatever it was that had them in such conflict would surely come to a head soon, and I was pretty sure that Mike would find himself on the losing end of that fight. The thought of that really didn’t disappoint me. Mike had been a constant annoyance; it was like he had a Napoleon Complex without being “vertically challenged.” Mike got on everyone’s nerves, and tempers among Gallu’s retinue were short.

  I turned from their problems and back to face the red eyes of the spotted jaguar-demon that was braced against me. We were locked in a stalemate; neither of us would back down from this willingly.

  “Come on pup.” Sasha growled at me behind his sharpened fangs. “Give up. You know you won’t beat me.” That wasn’t true.

  I knew that I couldn’t beat him in strength or tactics – we were equals in a fight – but I could be much more patient than he was.

  Sasha was the second oldest. He had told me once that he thought he was 811 years old, but he couldn’t be sure. Sasha seemed to feign memory loss when it came to his living years. The little he had been willing to share was still fascinating. He had grown up in what is now Russia and he remembered that he had died during the battle of the Kalka River in 1223, though he still cursed Genghis Khan to this day. His curses were futile. He had been given the honor of claiming Genghis when the time came for his demise. It was, according to him, his fondest memory, which was probably why he never shut up about it.

  The Russian was the least of my worries. As I said, we were equally matched in both strength and cunning. It was perhaps the reason that he was the one that most often sparred with me. Mike had quickly found that he was no match for me and hence forth denied me sparring matches, claiming that it was beneath him. His refusals had caused a vast amount of snickering amongst the other Asakku, and while it was fun knocking Mike down a few pegs, there was also the aggravation of being that close to him, so I didn’t mind the lack of interaction between us.

  Carlo and Jack fought me only when they felt that I needed a good beat down, when they thought I was getting to cocky. In truth, I was fully aware of what I was and was not able to do. I could out strategize Carlo, but I couldn’t beat him in strength. If there were steroids in the afterlife, he was on every one of them. And Jack… well, Jack I couldn’t get past in strategy to begin with, so it didn’t matter that he was ridiculously stronger than me.

  There was only one other member of the Asakku, and I had only seen him once: Ryan. He was a solitary member of the group. He kept to himself as much as humanly, well… demonically possible, so I had no idea which of us would win in a fair fight. Not that fair fights are the standard in the demonic world, but we tried to be as fair as possible here in the training room.

  I had been warned about the other demons in the world and their lack of fighting fair, but I’d never experienced it before. My skin had stopped glowing three months ago – not that that kept Mike from calling me glow worm still, but I hadn’t yet left the cavernous underground dwelling of the Asakku, the place they called “The Basement.”

  I had learned why the walls were so glassy when Jack took me to make my own room. It was an odd day, but I was beginning to get used to that word: odd.

  He took me to the middle of a hallway and made me face a wall…

  “Alright, here’s what you’re going to do.” Jack said as he held his hand out, palm up. “Just think about the heat. Don’t try to form a fire in your hand, just think about the heat.” As he spoke, a flame formed in hi
s hands and slowly grew into a large ball that he held with two hands.

  I watched, a little wide eyed when the ball of fire grew too large for his hands, and he suddenly thrust the flaming mass at the wall. It seared through the rock eating out a tunnel that was just barely smaller than the one that we stood in now. The fire seared the walls, melting them to the glass like quality of the halls that had surrounded me since I had arrived here.

  “You control the fire. It doesn’t control you.” Jack said with a menacing chuckle.

  “No… you control the fire… I just watch.” I said dumfounded by the disappearance of the wall in front of me. This wasn’t something I was sure I was going to easily be able to wrap my head around. “Blimey,” I said under my breath. I was beginning to see the upside of death, and I was beginning to feel a little like a super hero… but without the brightly colored tights, which was definitely a plus.

  “You have the exact same ability that I do.” Jack said, roughly grasping my wrist and positioning my hand in the same position his had been in. “Heat,” he said as he let go.

  “Heat,” I repeated, staring at my upturned palm, just think about heat, and as I did a small flame burst to life on my palm, and immediately snuffed itself.

  “Concentration is necessary to keep the flame lit, and to help it grow.” Jack said in a bored manner, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall behind me.

  I concentrated again and the flame reappeared. Then I thought one simple thought. Grow. And the flame became a ball of fire the size of a basket ball. Grow, and it was like an oversized beach ball. Grow, and it was the exact size of the hall in front of us. I pushed it forward and it ran into the wall and kept going.

  “You’re going to want to stop that.”

  “What?” I asked, and as soon as I stopped thinking about it the flames disappeared and the tunnel ended.

  “If you hadn’t stopped that, nothing would have.” Jack said with a smirk. “You can control more aspects of it than you would expect.”

  “What’s the point of this exercise, though?” I asked, amused by the new trick I had learned, but still less than trusting of my new environment and its inhabitants. “I can bore holes in rock. I’m not seeing this as a marketable skill for my future career path.”