“You sought death tonight,” Mirage whispered. Despite the crackle around them, they could easily hear her words. Mirage’s voice echoed, imbedded deeply with power. There was something else though; the accent she spoke in was different, the words seemingly out of place in her mouth.
“Death reigns here, but it is not called upon me.”
Mirage’s eyes widened, brightening to an impossible red, a hue that Michael had never seen. He only saw them for an instant before she threw her head back and began to mutter unintelligible, guttural words. The words sent shivers down his spine. They were incantations, the ancient words that called on the Shadowstarts’ ancestors. Her father had tried to call them before he’d died, but he’d failed. Michael had never had to face the Shades. There wasn’t a Humanitarian that had faced the Shades and survived.
The runes that etched along Mirage’s skin began to glow that iridescent red he’d seen from her eyes.
The house started to shake around them as shapes rose from Mirage’s body in a flurry of blood red and black. They had wings, tattered and slick, that with each massive flap took the fire away in a swirling mass. One soared over Michael and he ducked, covering his head. He could barely keep his footing on the quaking ground as hell erupted around him. Behind him there were pained screams. A groan above him and he barely had time to register the fact that the creatures had landed on the sides of the home and dug their claws into the charred wood.
Michael rolled forward and he felt the rush of air as the house fell inward. The screams of terror and pain were cut short. Michael stood and stumbled as the creatures rose from the ashen debris and advanced in a swirling flap of wings, enclosing him in a torrential circle of their raven flamed bodies. They were incorporeal, completely transparent, but they reflected back his terrified face at the same time. They were slightly birdlike with cruel beaks, but where their eyes should be, there was nothing but a black, bottomless hole that regarded him with fathomless cunning. Michael backed away, his gun dropped and forgotten.
“Mirage.” He almost hated the high-pitch his voice had taken on. “Call them off. I’ll leave. I’ll turn myself in…I’ll…” He reached out and gripped her arm tightly, shaking her.
Mirage’s eyes snapped open and turned to him. “You will pay for his sins, human,” she growled. “I will not allow her to be betrayed as well.”
Michael swallowed and tried to let her go, but his hand seemed to be fused with her skin. The Shades, cackling in reverberating voices, swirled around them.
“Mirage, let me go,” he commanded. His voice firmed, holding the edged threat that he was so good at.
“Listen to him sing,” the Shades whispered in unison. They had no mouth to speak with, the words rising and falling with each flap of their wings. “Listen to him lie. Bound to his prey shall he be, bound within cords, bound within the history’s echoes. Listen to his blood sing.”
Mirage smiled at him, exposing sharp teeth. The expression she wore wasn’t anything that Michael could imagine on the Paramortal’s face. It was as if someone else stared at him through her eyes.
“I hear him sing,” she whispered. She spoke in that same guttural, beautiful language, but somehow Michael understood every word. “I hear him lie, and I bind him to his prey, within her cords he will be contained in the past’s resonance. I hear his blood’s melody.”
The rune beneath his hand glowed past his skin and Mirage’s skin was hot, despite the fact the fire had disappeared. “Mirage…”
“I’ve spoken, Shades.” Her voice was left no doubt that she was in charge and it echoed, quiet yet loud. “Do my bidding.”
Michael couldn’t say anything as something forced his head back and his mouth open. The Shades circled him once before rising into the air and diving forward. The first entered his mouth and his body shuddered. He could feel it inside him, ripping through him with its ragged wings before it shoved its way out of his body and back into Mirage. The others followed it and then, all was quiet. He let go of Mirage and fell backward.
Blackness began to eat at the edge of eyesight, flickering across his vision like raven flames. “Bring peace, Parlinn, and learn from the past’s echo the truth of your sins.” The soft voice, which had only the slightest resemblance of Mirage’s voice sounded in his mind. Then, there was nothing.
About The Author
Corrine Shroud lives in the Appalachian rural reaches of Kentucky with her family, her dog Scooper and her cat Jaded. She’s a Robinson Scholar and is currently attending the University of Kentucky, majoring in pre-Med Biology and Minoring in Mythology and Folklore. Her family is large and loving and she has three younger brothers. She lives in a beautiful culture-rich area that has inspired her and that she’s proud of. She’s an avid reader and writer and is obsessed with anything of the obscure.
Humanity 02 - Raven Flames Page 3
