Mind Games: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 6)

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Mind Games: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 6) Page 7

by J. A. Cipriano


  Before I could respond, she vanished into the hallway, and I was left staring at the spot she’d just occupied. I bit absently into the cookie but didn’t even taste it. I knew my mother loved me. Even the version of my mother from my past had sacrificed herself to save me, had raised me even though I had taken the place of her only child.

  And even though I knew something was off, I felt like I should try a little harder. But that was crazy, right? The white man had said I was being possessed by Jormungand. If I was really trapped in my own head with a being named Jormungand using my body like a skin suit, I should want to escape. I should be trying harder, only if I did that, it’d make this version of my mom feel bad. And while I was perfectly happy to upset delusions, I wasn’t ready to leap off the cliff into the void of that certainty quite yet.

  For all I knew, everything about Jormungand was a hallucination. Was I really willing to give up my mom, my life here to believe everything was fake? What would that get me other than locked back up at Mercer & Mercer, hoping for the days where my parents came to play Scrabble so we could all pretend I wasn’t broken and everything was perfectly normal?

  I sighed, letting out a breath and staring at the ceiling with its non-glowing stars. “I’m not sure why I care,” I whispered to myself. Only I did know. I wanted a relationship with my mother, a real one that wasn’t tainted with blood, fighting, and death. It was making this whole scenario hard to deal with. Which, I supposed, was the whole point.

  “Well played, Jormungand,” I said to the stars, but they didn’t respond even though I half expected them to do so. Clearly, I was insane. Now, I just needed to figure out who Jormungand was, and why he wanted my body.

  I’d been about to ignore the name completely, but even the redheaded guy from my dream had called the person possessing me Jormungand. It stood to reason that’s who it was. Only that was impossible. Jormungand was the world serpent from Norse mythology. The idea that he would possess me of all people was, quite frankly, ludicrous.

  Still, maybe it was true? Maybe I was possessed by a giant snake god. If that was the case, how the hell was I going to win? I mean, seriously? Was I really so insane as to think I could match wills with a god?

  And yet, I wondered about that. Surely there had to be a way to escape or overpower him or something. Why else would Jormungand have invented such an elaborate fiction to keep me down? No, he’d have just crushed my mind and been done with it. That meant I could win, I just needed to figure out how.

  I gritted my teeth together as another thought burbled up from the black recesses of my brain. Did I really want to win? Let’s just say, hypothetically, that I was trapped in Jormungand’s version of the matrix. Did I really want to find the red pill? What would I be going back to if I escaped? A life of fighting? A life where my mother was dead? Staying here would be so easy, even if it wasn’t real, it was damned close enough. You know, assuming I could figure out the time slippage problem.

  No. I shook the thought away. If I was being controlled by a giant snake god, he would eventually tire of me. If that happened, I’d be as good as dead.

  I needed to get away. Now the only question was how? I ran through my brain trying to think of how Jormungand was defeated in mythology, but sadly, the only thing I kept coming back to was Thor and Mjolnir. During Ragnarok, the two were destined to fight and kill one another. I was reasonably sure I wasn’t Thor nor did I have his legendary hammer, Mjolnir. That left me stuck at square one. Damn.

  Still, there had to be another way, right? You know, one that didn’t involve mythical weapons I had no way of getting trapped inside my own head. Maybe I could write down everything I knew and something would come to me? Maybe my subconscious would come up with something awesome?

  I sighed and pulled myself out of my bed and grabbed my backpack off the floor. I reached inside and pulled out a ratty green spiral bound notebook and a pencil. I wasn’t sure why, but ever since I’d left the Dioscuri and come down to earth, I’d been partial to the green ones. Call me sentimental, I’m fine with that.

  Flipping open the cover, I was immediately horrified to realize I couldn’t read any of my notes. Everything was a series of incomprehensible squiggles and symbols. That made absolutely no sense. I shut my eyes and counted to ten, but when I opened them again, the page was still filled with nonsense.

  A horrible thought struck me as I stared at the page, trying to will comprehension into my brain. Wasn’t it supposed to be difficult to read in dreams because of how your brain worked? The part that controlled dreams wasn’t the same part that controlled writing, so when you looked closely at words in dreams they turned into gibberish. Was that what was happening here?

  If so, then Jormungand wasn’t imposing his will onto me, at least not in the same way I’d thought before. It meant everything going on was my own imagination. This whole time, I’d been dreaming I had a nice family and a mother who loved me. How sad was I?

  I shut the notepad and flung it on the floor as I sat on top of my Inigo Montoya comforter and had the urge to smile. So I was dreaming? Inside my own head? Well, that meant I could control it, right? Wasn’t that the thing with dreams? Weren’t you supposed to be able to control them once you knew you were dreaming? I got slowly to my feet and walked over to the little window beside my bed. It was dark outside which is what I expected. Only, I wasn’t afraid of the dark. The dark was supposed to be afraid of me.

  “My name is Lillim Callina,” I said, staring up at the moon in the distant sky. “You have taken my body and imprisoned me in a dream world. Prepare to die!”

  Chapter 11

  I was awake before my alarm clock went off for two reasons. One, I hadn’t slept and two, I’d broken it the other day. I’d half expected to see it returned to its perfect functioning form, but alas, no such luck. Or maybe it was luck. This was an alarm clock after all.

  If it had been back to normal, it would have confirmed my dream state, but since it wasn’t fixed, it left me with two possibilities, neither of which were positive. There was the old fall back of me actually being crazy and in the real world right now, or my dream state remembered enough about what I’d done to make my surroundings reflect events that occurred. The second one kind of scared me more because I wasn’t sure how to deal with that if it was true. If I was in the real world, well, that would be that, but if I was in a prison that learned how to better keep me inside, that would suck. Big time.

  Either way, I was sitting on my bed wearing a pink Green Lantern t-shirt and blue jeans when my dad knocked on my door. I waited half a breath so I wouldn’t seem over eager before getting to my feet.

  “Come in,” I called, grabbing my backpack off the desk chair and heading toward the door. It opened in front of me to reveal my father, Sabastin Callina, clad in a white dress shirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. It was barely tucked into his jeans, but probably because every movement he made pulled the shirt farther out of his pants.

  He stood there, smiling as he looked me up and down. “I’m starting to think the only thing you like to wear are superhero t-shirts. I approve.”

  I glanced down at my t-shirt and felt my cheeks heat up. “Green Lantern’s powers come from will power. You know, it’s what powers his ring.” I shrugged. “I was hoping he could lend me some strength of will for the day.”

  “True, but I’m not sure if pink still counts as the Green Lantern. It’s more on the level of the Star Sapphire Corps, no?” My dad laughed and clapped me on the shoulder as I stared at him completely dumbfounded by his knowledge of the Lantern Corps.

  “Um, I guess, but their symbol looks different,” I protested, looking down at my shirt.

  “Whatever, kiddo. We both know your power is based on love.” He kissed my forehead, and I blushed. “What do you say we get breakfast on the way?”

  “Is this your way of saying you’re too scared to cook?” I asked, glancing past him into the hallway.

  “Caught me red-handed,” he
replied with a shrug. “Your mom was going to make breakfast, but I told her I could manage to get us both fed.”

  “So she went to work already?” I asked, looking into the kitchen. I half-expected her to be there sipping coffee or something.

  “Yeah, she wanted to try to get some extra hours in.” He shrugged and approached the door. “So what kind of fast food do you want, Lillim? My treat.”

  “You say that like you don’t already pay for everything,” I replied before I realized how snotty it sounded. “I didn’t mean it like that. I appreciate all you do for me, Dad.”

  “Thanks,” he said, pulling open the door and allowing the sunlight outside to stream into the house. “I do try, you know.”

  “I know.” I bit my lip. “It’s just that…”

  “That you take me for granted because I wasn’t dead?” he asked, a combination of hurt and understanding mixing across his features.

  “Yeah,” I said sheepishly because if everything went right today, well, I was going to see him again. I wouldn’t be seeing my mother again. The thought made me ache so hard in my chest I could barely stand it.

  A moment later, we were in the car, driving down the street. I had a sandwich made of two pancakes, sausage patty, and a freshly cracked egg. I chewed it slowly and as my teeth punctured each hidden reserve of syrup, contentment filled me. Sure, this was made up food, but I never really had the cash to eat out, or eat junk food at all, and since this was a dream, I wasn’t about to get fat. At least I hoped not, that would suck.

  I’d barely finished my second sandwich when we pulled up in front of Mercer & Mercer. The huge building reminded me of an old castle, what with the giant stone gargoyle standing proudly on the roof, eyes fixed on a distant point on the horizon. Okay, to be fair, it wasn’t actually a gargoyle. It was the statue of some scientist, I’d forgotten the name of, but with the light shrouding it from behind, it definitely looked like a gargoyle.

  We parked, and my dad helped me out of the car even though he didn’t need to do so. We made our way up to the entrance and stepped inside. The waiting room wasn’t large, maybe big enough to hold five people comfortably. Its white walls were filled with motivational posters of cats and airplanes with phrases beneath that said things like “You can do it!” or “Where there’s a will, there’s a way!” My dad got us all checked in while I sat in a too small brown chair along the left wall. It was covered in gunk I tried not to think about because it wasn’t real. Why couldn’t my mind conjure up a nice chair for me to sit in?

  I thumbed through a yellow magazine filled with pictures of animals and topless tribal women. None of whom seemed very concerned about being photographed without their shirts which struck me as a little odd. I most certainly would not have wanted to be around strangers topless, let alone let them photograph me to publish in a magazine. Then again, different strokes for different folks.

  I turned the page and found myself staring at the picture of a huge boa constrictor wrapped around a struggling deer, the creature’s eyes bugging out of its skull as the muscles of the snake constricted. The image made a chill run down my spine. It seemed ominous and foreboding, especially because Jormungand was a giant snake, rumored to actually squeeze the entire earth with its bulk. What was I in the face of that? A deer? More like an amoeba.

  Still, there had to be a reason he’d chosen my body to inhabit. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I doubt he would have gone through all the trouble to take away my Dioscuri weapons… wait…

  I thought back, trying to remember what had happened when I’d encountered Lang and Polyphemus next to the school’s giant clock tower. It felt like a lifetime ago. Lang had done something to strip me of Set and Isis, leaving me with only one spirit. Only, I couldn’t remember who that spirit was. Why couldn’t I remember?

  “Is everything okay, sweetie?” my dad asked, and I realized he was sitting next to me, peering at me intently, a little too intently if you asked me.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled and gestured at the picture. “I just feel bad for the deer, ya know?”

  “Nature’s cruel,” my father affirmed, staring down at the picture. “That’s kind of a dreary magazine to have here.”

  “Why? Because I’m insane and can’t deal with looking at pictures of nature’s hostility toward man in general?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

  “Yes, exactly,” he replied totally deadpan. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Part of me was pleased he had taken my jab in stride, but another part of me had wanted him to, I don’t know, react with more empathy? I guess I wanted to be coddled, who knew?

  “Well, fine then,” I said, dropping the magazine on the table next to me.

  “They have some Highlights over there.” My father pointed across the room to a section filled with discolored Legos, broken toys, and a few torn magazines. Even from here, that whole side of the room looked wet and sticky. “That might be more your speed.”

  “Are you being serious right now?” I asked, thankful my jaw hadn’t actually dropped and hit the floor.

  “Not particularly.” He shrugged and turned away from me. “I just dislike it when you do your whole ‘oh don’t mind the little crazy girl’ thing. I don’t think you’re crazy.” He shrugged. “I think you’re doing surprisingly well given everything that’s happened over the last couple of years.”

  “Oh,” I said because I wasn’t sure what else to say. He didn’t think I was crazy? He thought I was well adjusted? Somehow, given everything, it made me feel better even though he was a figment of my imagination, and I was determined to leave him behind. Then again, I wouldn’t really be leaving him. I’d see him… and that was when a horrible thought struck me.

  Why hadn’t my father saved me from Jormungand? If I was really possessed, wouldn’t my father, Sabastin Callina, have rescued me by now? He was supposed to be the de facto leader of the Dioscuri after all. And sure, he had disbanded them, but still, he ought to know people, ought to be able to find some way to get me back.

  Since he hadn’t rescued me, it meant one of three things and none of them were good. The first was of course the old fall back of me actually being insane despite the overwhelming evidence that I may not be insane. Granted that one could go either way, but I had to at least hope I wasn’t crazy, otherwise I might not be getting out of here for a long time.

  The other two options were, amazingly, less positive. He was either dead and couldn’t come for me, or he didn’t know I had been taken because he was still away on his trip. If that was the case, who knew how long it would take him to find out what happened to me? No, waiting for him to rescue me wasn’t in the cards. I needed to oust the demon snake in my head and fast.

  As that last thought filled my brain, my wrists began to burn like they were wrapped in rings of fire. I stared at my hands in disbelief, and for the barest second, I could have sworn my wrists were wrapped in the confines of a blackened snakes. What the hell was going on?

  The surrounding room faded away, leaving me surrounded by a vast white emptiness. I leapt to my feet, heart pounding, and was pleasantly surprised to find the ground solid beneath me even though it was the same endless void in every direction. Then again, this was likely a hallucination so there was that.

  “Lillim,” the chaotic voice of the milk white man rolled over me like a crashing wave. I whirled around in disbelief. He stood before me wearing a suit of burnished silver and a crimson bowtie. “You’re so close.”

  “So close?” I replied, staring at him in disbelief. “To what?”

  “To remembering me. You remember my brethren because they are not with you, but I am, Lillim. I am here with you. Call my name and release me from this prison.” He staggered as the words left his lips and his body began to dissolve into pale pink smoke. “The demon snake. Who is the demon snake?”

  “Jormungand,” I whispered, and he shook his head violently.

  “I am so much older than that hatchling, it’s laughable.” H
e exhaled and black smoke poured from his lips. “Remember me!”

  “Give me a hint!” I cried as his body crumpled to the ground, leaving only his silver suit behind. I stared at it for a long time as the image shattered completely.

  I was standing in the waiting room, staring at a broken toy a few feet away. I took a step toward it, my sneakers squeaking on the cheap linoleum floor.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” my father asked as I bent down and scooped it up. It was a figure from a television show I’d watched with Luc when I’d first come to Earth. It felt like forever ago, but I still remembered it. The show had been about people stepping through an ancient ring found in the desert and finding themselves across the galaxy. In it, they had battled aliens named after Egyptian deities.

  “Do you know who this is?” I asked, turning to show the figure clutched in my grip to my father.

  “Apophis,” he whispered, and as the word left his mouth, a concerned look crossed his face. “Why?”

  “Apophis,” I repeated. It had always annoyed me that the character had been called Apophis because that was the Greek version of his name. In reality, the character should have been named Apep, after the demon snake of Egypt.

  Chapter 12

  “Lillim Callina, would you come this way?” A nurse standing just outside an open door said. She had long black hair tied back in a ponytail and an expression that requested there be no nonsense if at all possible.

  “What?” I spun slowly to look at her, still blinking with the toy in my hand. Staring at her made me feel intimidated and scared. This place, this mental hospital, made me feel out of control and exposed. With a flick of their collective wrists, the people at Mercer & Mercer had the power to lock me up and throw away the key. Even if this was a dream world and all made up, the thought of living out my years as a drooling, mental patient was terrifying.

 

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