Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  Another demon falls before me. I watch as the body dissipates into the ether which surrounds us.

  It would be so easy to let go, I thought.

  Both sides had surely lost track of why this fight had started. Well, we all knew she had been responsible for the start. What concerned me most was not the visceral fighting of the eternal moment. My problem was that our fighting superseded whatever clarity of intention we had when this all started. I couldn't help but believe that a similar phenomenon was taking place in the minds of our enemies.

  I had defected from the main task force to which I had been assigned. The irony of my own rebellion is not lost on me. As a matter of fact, it only serves to further cloud my misunderstandings about the conflict which surrounds me. I was off on my own quest; an internal struggle against self-validation and the perpetuation of the status quo.

  God had been missing since the inception of the war, and I intended to find him.

  Another dark shadowed figure fell to my lance. I didn't even take satisfaction in watching the strands of shadow dissipate into the air around me. Some of the essence of the demon clung to my weapon, dripping down toward the ground, only to fade once more into the ambient light of heaven. The battle was expansive. Though my quest had taken me far away from the defense positions at the gates, there were no shortage of demons to challenge my every move.

  I desperately felt as though we needed guidance, which is why I had gone out searching for God. Everything that we had ever known was crumbling beneath us. Schemes which never should have function, had found root in heaven's fertile soil. While the other angels were content to fight, holding out in faith until the return of the King, I struck off alone into the periphery.

  Three more fell in a stretch of eternity, but my concentration wavered.

  A dark shadow, larger, and hungrier than the others amassed in the corner where the edge of the void had encroached on heaven's borders. I stared at the thing, in horrified fascination, unable to get past the fundamental question: how?

  How, in all of creation, was a creature this dark permitted within the Kingdom of God?

  It struck me, shooting out with a speed and accuracy that I had not anticipated. I felt the shadow skewer my heart; stealing the light within me for its own dark transformations. There was no bitterness, only a form of confusion amid a flood of memories. The demon's weapon pulled out from the center of my chest, and I felt a warmth flowing out from my body.

  Whether or not the demon could actually use that was irrelevant at this point. I couldn't find the attention necessary to grudge my fate. I was swimming in the images of lives past, and lives to be.

  The memories themselves couldn't possibly have all belonged to me, but they felt real. One mind did not have room to accommodate that number of dreams. Then, a smile stole over my face, and I watched the demon lap up my life's force, pulling it out from within me. The meal transformed it all right; I saw a fire burn out the inside of the creature, bringing a scream that was so loud I had to wince.

  The memories were shattered, and I realized that as the creature in front of me died, so too must I die.

  I'm not supposed to die, I thought, still confused by the whole experience. Wasn't this heaven? Where else was a soul to go?

  Regardless, another end approached. I felt that unmistakable separation of my consciousness from my current form; that feeling which determines a change in state. I turned my head to the side, looking past fading sparks floating around the air. That fire was all that was left of the demon.

  Soon, I realized, that is all that will be left of me.

  My realization was interrupted, as beyond the sparks I saw the form of a child. The child's eyes became magnified in my mind, and I watched as the fire in the air drifted back toward my body. The eyes of the child blinked once, definitively, and I felt a crushing pulse of power within my chest. The pain was so severe that I would've welcomed death as an alternative, but, that was not to be.

  Struggling to my feet, I let out a howl and felt the fire of existence burn throughout my body. That same fire was the light which healed my wounds from the inside out. I took a deep breath through my nose, and felt the heat return to my body. When I opened the eyes again, I saw the child had turned to walk away.

  I followed without hesitation, stumbling forward through the Periphery.

  The Child was God himself.

  2

  Matias

  The dimensions of heaven changed around me, and the ambiguity of the periphery begin to take form.

  Where ephemeral mists, and the edges of the void once stood, now I was walking through the ruins of an old city. The landscapes around me assembled, not unlike the memories of those who had shared my past. I reasoned that the future too, would undoubtedly be determined by these landscapes.

  In spite of the wonders that were being revealed before my eyes, I knew not to stop. I could never pause and reflect on the shifting scenery through which I walked. I was only paces behind the child, and the closer that I got, the less doubt remained in my mind. The confusion that I had felt about the war in heaven, and the bewilderment I had experienced when facing the shadow were all gone. All that was left was following in the footsteps of that which I sought.

  A child.

  To be more specific, I knew very well what sort of being presented itself before me. This was, after all, no random child of the heavens. The child was neither seraphim, nor one of the souls of the dead, who called Heaven their home - not exactly, at least.

  This child was The Child.

  There was no mistake about the fact.

  If I had been in my mortal form, I would have found some humor in the way that God had presented himself. To believe that the most powerful force in all of creation would assume the form of something so helpless was almost laughable; but not quite. Mythologically, the gods rarely showed themselves in blatant displays of power. After all, when you have power, what use is it to boast as though you did not?

  No.

  Children, Distant Voices, Dreams and Fantasies. Children, animals and ancient stories - these are, and have always been the Domain of God.

  The child before me moved more quickly, and I was unable to keep up. My pace hastened, and soon I was running full speed toward the edge of The Periphery. The formation of the landscapes around me ceased maintaining their stability. The image of the child running before me began to flicker and fade. He was leading me somewhere, but there was no way to know except to sprint forward into the etheric boarders of heaven.

  In the distance, the swirling collection of light and color captured my attention. Patterns arose in the atmosphere, and geometric patterns emanated outward from a central point in the distance. As I focused on those brilliant fractal representations of light, the child faded entirely from my vision. Without feeling so much as a moment of absence, I ran forward toward the very edge of God's Domain.

  Lights crystallized in front of me. I watched as circles radiated outward in blooms more magnificent and ephemeral than any that would ever be seen again. The Bardo and the Void waited beyond the barrier. I took a deep breath, and felt the fire of love inside of my chest. A murmur passed through the air around me, and I closed my eyes so I could focus in on the source of the sound. With my attention, came clarity. The voice ceased being a part of the environment, and came as direct and soft as a whisper in my ear.

  "Time is running out."

  Panic swelled up within my chest, and I felt the desperation of the voice. There was a plea, and sincerity in its tone. I realized then that the fear that I felt, and the compassion that I heard in the voice was not out of concern for my own life. Something greater was at stake, and the sense of urgency was on behalf of a force that was not prepared to care for itself.

  The voice echoed around me once more, a reflection of my grasping thoughts. I forced myself to breathe, and centered my focus within once more.

  "The Doors are slamming shut..." the voice continued.

 
I felt the panic grow within me, as I realized that if somebody didn't do something quickly, we would all suffer.

  "Find the Key..."

  Those three words echoed throughout my entire being. The depth of their significance was not known to me, that there was no way for me to question their authenticity.

  A wind began to build around the base of my body, and I watched the spirals of light come out from the wall and envelop themselves around my form. The void opened before my eyes, and with a sudden shove, found myself plummeting downward.

  I was too terrified to scream.

  Heaven was gone from my mind, and my body was rushing headlong into the darkness. The sensation was not unlike a dream, except that I knew everything. I knew exactly how real everything was; though that knowledge only served to heighten my bewilderment.

  Falling down from those great heights made being penetrated by the demon seem like nothing more than a prelude. Heat and pain exploded throughout my chest, and I felt the pain radiate down every nerve in my body. My skin was on fire, and I realized that it wasn't my body that burned bright in the void; it was my mind.

  To fall down toward the Earth from the edge of the Periphery is far from typical behavior for an angel. Though, perhaps for one is myself, the experience is more common than I would like to believe. When the pain became so intense that I could not bear to hold onto my consciousness any longer, I saw a glimmer of blue light growing in the distance.

  The darkness through which I plummeted, began to recede in my vision. The blue light grew, and soon, I found myself completely absorbed in its grace. I cannot be sure if grace was the intention. When your soul is burning, there is not much that doesn't look like grace when it offers to absorb your lived experience. My wings may have been gone, but I was sent here for a very specific reason.

  With resolve in my mind, I committed myself to the fall.

  As the light swallowed me whole, I passed out.

  Then, there was nothing.

  3

  Roma

  His name was Dale, but it should have been "Soulless, Nine to Five, Shell of a Human."

  No offense intended to hard-working folks, or anyone else out there named Dale. What's true for one isn't true for another. I was just busy dehumanizing him so it was easier for me to walk away at the end of the evening. It's a shit attitude to have when you're supposed to be settling in with a person, but I was running out of patience.

  Dale and I had been going out together for the better part of nine months now, and he had one trick in bed that kept me around in the very beginning. Couldn't tell you why, but for some reason, I've just found that most men can’t last for shit in bed. The first night we slept together, I realized that Dale had the miraculous ability of continuing to fuck after he had ejaculated. Biologically, I knew it had something to do with ahedonic orgasms, which meant that he was perpetually disinterested, and I was sore.

  Not a great combination, but it was nice having someone who wanted to sleep with you. I suppose it would be safe to say that I would rather be sore than putting on makeup all of the time. Sitting here with Dale at ‘our little spot’, was now becoming more painful than the fucking. The negative emotional potentials of being alone were an unfortunate bonus. I stared at him expressionless while he told me another inane story about his work. As he continued to yammer on, I realized that that if I was serious about dumping him, I was going to have to tell him sooner than later.

  "Maybe after he pays for another round of drinks," I thought, realizing that this, too, was another excuse.

  "So, Martha comes up to me and says, that's not sexual harassment, try this on for size!"

  He laughed, and shook a set of imaginary tits in my face, no doubt emulating an attention starved cougar who should probably be sore instead of me.

  I smiled, and waved for the waiter to come over to the table.

  There was an uncomfortable silence that filled the table. I realized that the punch line to his story was requesting something from me - laughter. That was another problem with Dale, he never told story just because he wanted to share something useful with you. Dale's stories always contained passive aggressive elements designed to elicit a response. Children do a better job of disguising their manipulative tendencies. In an effort to meet him on his level, I had stopped consciously responding to these cues about two months ago.

  Can't say he was a quick learner.

  "I mean, doesn't that bother you a little bit you know, that she was picking up on me?" he asked, giving me a wink from across the table.

  "Drop her mauve skirt next time she says that,” I said, “and knock her up right there, against the water cooler."

  I did my best to service his question with a straight face. Afterward, I smiled again and returned the wink. While I may not have been interested in his joke, I was also never really that interested in transparency. As far as I was concerned, Dale never really deserved to be informed on where I stood on any given matter. If he was going to be a dick about things, I certainly was not going to give him the attention he craved.

  I looked around, hoping that the waiter would come by and bring salvation in the form of well whiskey, but I had no such luck. Instead, I was treated to the passing gaze of a stranger who was paying more attention to me and he should have.

  "Here comes another one," Dale said with sarcasm.

  He was right.

  The middle aged man was emboldened by my eye contact, came up to our table as though he was an old friend.

  "Hell's Bells! Amiright?"

  I had moved out here to the City of Angels nine years ago, when I was 16 years old to try and be a movie star. A talent scout had found me, and made a quick mint casting me in a Friday night sitcom. The sitcom burned hot for about two seasons, and then sort of fizzled out. I made enough cash to where I didn't have to worry too much about the loss. Afterward, I never found any more work and ended up being another washed up child actor without a clear direction for their own life. Many, including Dale, would have said, "I saw that coming," but I despised those sorts of conversations, and avoided them at all costs.

  "Oh my god, my sister is going to flip when she finds out I saw you here," he said, gushing with authentic pleasure.

  I smiled again, not the same kind of smile I saved for Dale, but equally patronizing in its own way. I didn't come off as directly acidic, likely just tolerant.

  "I know, I know, I know. You probably get asked this all of the time, but can I have an autograph?"

  I nodded, and he made a fist pumping motion, only to fish out a pen and paper as though he woke up prepared for this exact moment.

  "Thank you so much. I can't even tell you how much of a surprise it is to see you here."

  I had nearly finished the autograph by the time he finished his sentence.

  "Who is it for?" I asked, knowing that would send him over the edge.

  "Oh my God, you're too much. Put down Nancy. That will blow her away."

  I nodded, and was drawing my signature devil horns and a heart signature in no time flat. I handed him back the paper, and gave him a wink. Then, Dale interrupted.

  "Oh Wow! Is that the same wink you did from the show?"

  I sank into self-loathing immediately, but the fan didn't pick up on Dale's sarcasm.

  "It is!" he yelled, "It totally is, Nancy is gonna die. We loved you so much. I'll let you get back to your meal. Nice to meet you."

  When the fan left, he took my self-loathing with him, and though I would likely never see him again, I felt like we had undergone an even exchange.

  "I don't know why you do that sort of thing," Dale said, rolling his eyes and scowling.

  Hard to believe that he took my own failures so personally, but even sitting across from him, I could feel his irritation.

  "You're never going to be taken seriously if you don't force people to see you in a different light," he continued. "I mean how many times are you going to pull that wink out and sign another slip of paper? You k
now he's just going to put that up on the Internet and make a quick buck."

  "To a lucky girl named Nancy, I'm sure," I said, desperately wishing that the waiter would hurry the fuck up and bring me some alcohol.

  "What is that sarcasm?"

  For being a doctor, and an allegedly clever guy, Dale could be clueless.

  "It's hot in here. I need some air," I replied. "Excuse me for a moment."

  I left him stewing in his own repressed fantasies for Martha and went outside.

  4

  Roma

  I took a step outside of the restaurant so I could clear my head.

  It wasn't Dale's fault that he was intolerable. More likely than not, it was my own antisocial tendencies coming through. He was right about how people defined me, but I didn't respect him enough to give him the credit he deserved. As long as it felt like he was trying to teach me something that I didn't already know, I'd just as soon keep winking and responding to any fool that came up to me singing "Hells Bells!"

  At least with fans your expectations were relatively low. They were already happy to see you, and all you had to do was acknowledge them you would make their month. Whether or not they turned around and tried to sell my autograph, I didn't really care. What bothered me more was that in spite of the fact that I had no respect for Dale, I knew he was right.

  Whenever I'm feeling like this, I try to give my friend Claire a call. She can usually talk some sense into me, or at least remind me that things could be much worse. Friends like that are hard to come by.

  They don't judge.

  "This is Claire," came the voice on the other end of the phone.

  "Damnit Claire, you have Caller ID, don't you?"

  "Hey, Roma. Yeah, but I'm preparing for a role in a musical. You'll love it. I play this blind woman from Mississippi, and she only has herself to take care of and two dogs. The cool thing is that she has to live her life without using her eyes to do things that most people take for granted."