Death's Mantle: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Revelations Book 1)

by J. A. Cipriano

  Polyphemus slammed the vile purple cloud against Kim’s forehead. There was a flash of crimson starlight as Kim fell backward, tumbling to the ground in slow motion. Her forehead pulsed as a whirling tornado of energy ripped out of her body, shooting into the sky like a firecracker. The moon above darkened, its rays hitting the ground in shades of crimson.

  Ian 01:09

  “There is a job for you now. Would you take it?” the voice in Ian’s head asked. It hadn’t let him alone for an eternity. No, it had kept him strapped in a world of dreams. Now was no different. But the dreams showed him things so he couldn’t entirely ignore them.

  In such a short time, he had gained so much knowledge, so much power. They called him Famine, and the knowledge and power of the name swirled about him like a cloak. It answered every question he asked and filled him with more understanding than he could have ever wanted. Evidently, his was a power that thirsted for more, always craving the next thing. His mantle would never be satisfied, even if it consumed the universe itself.

  Ian knew vaguely something was wrong with him now but could not figure out what it was.. Something enormous lay just over the of his understanding, bending him to its will, threatening to swallow him up, to suck up all his air and suffocate him beneath its burning embrace.

  He laughed aloud and fell backward onto the stone floor. The stars stared back at him, and he glared back at them.

  “I love you more than the moon and all the stars,” his mother said.

  “All of them?” he asked.

  “Even the little baby ones too tiny to notice,” she replied, reaching out to touch his face. Her hair was flame red, and her green eyes flashed in the darkness of his bedside lamp.

  Somewhere he knew what was going on, knew something was wrong. He reached for that thought like a child on a merry-go-round reaching for the golden ring. Pain shot through him, forcing him to yank his hand backward and retreat into the relative safety of his mind. Something had him in its grasp, something overpowering. He’d scarcely had the thought when pain slammed into him like a freight train.

  He screamed and blood oozed from his eyes as he shut them tight against the horrible, burning agony. When he opened them, roses surrounded him. It was night and crimson rain fell in buckets around him. The roses swayed under the rain. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out and plucked one of the flowers, snapping its stem with a flick of his wrist. It was stained in blood, in red, everything was red. He inhaled, but there was no smell, save for that of the bloody rain falling from the sky.

  “I’m the only one,” he murmured, shutting his eyes again. “Maybe it’s all broken already. Maybe the joke is on me…” He stepped away from the flowers, one bloody footstep after another.

  “I let it slip away, didn’t I?” he said.

  “In you, there is endless potential,” his mother replied, lips bright like fresh blood.

  “Oh. I was unaware.”

  He opened his eyes and tilted his head toward the bleeding sky. Above him, the moon beamed down on him.

  “I love you too,” he said to the wind. It swept away his words without fanfare. His hand moved on its own, grabbing at the ancient sword belted to his waist. He had not carried the weapon for very long at all, could not ever remember receiving it. Where had it come from? Why did he have it?

  It was long and elegant. It was black as the darkest soul in hell.

  He flung it into the air and it flew through the air before falling back toward him.

  “If you borrowed something important and lost it, and you decided to steal something of equal value to replace whatever it was, would you be right?” the sword asked as it fell, voice like a thousand flapping wings.

  “Perhaps,” Ian replied, seizing the weapon from the air as the butterflies etched into its blade flitted to and fro across its surface. “Perhaps not. It would depend solely on the original owner, I suppose.”

  “An excellent point,” the katana replied. “You will kill everyone,” it added.

  Ian shook his head, dismissing the voice of the sword. “No.” And as the words left his mouth, he knew them to be a lie. If given the chance, he would see the world reduced to ash. Then he would take the remnants for himself. That was the curse of his mantle, and he knew it to be true, no matter what he thought. In the end, the choice wouldn’t be his own. Probably.

  “Your powers come from darkness,” the sword sneered. “You wish to use the darkness to fight the darkness?” It scoffed at him. “Foolish beyond measure.”

  Ian shook his head again and touched the sword, trailing his fingers along its blackened surface. There was a satisfying solace in the blade’s voice, even if its words were like the squawking of a thousand angry bats.

  “Whenever I hear anything beautiful, I just want to destroy it. Does that make me bad?” Ian turned the weapon over in his hands as he spoke. “Is that what the world needs? Someone to destroy, to consume, to kill?” He shook his head at the thought. It might be better if he stopped now, before he wanted too much, before he did something he couldn’t reverse. For the moment, he still had a choice, right?

  He turned and moved. He felt the darkness in every breath he took, inflated like a big balloon inside of him, and he feared it. He was so scared of it. He could do nothing but wait in terror for it to take everything from him, for it to bend him to its will.

  “I just… I just don’t want to hurt anyone,” he said to the wind. “Every moment I hold this sword is a moment that brings me closer to the edge. If I were to lose control with it, who knows what would happen?”

  “Then don’t lose control,” the sword whispered in his ear. And somewhere, something clicked inside of him. This was his calling. This was what he was meant for. His fists tightened. That was true. He knew it to be so. He could control this katana. Of all the people who had ever held the weapon, he was the first who could understand its hunger. Perhaps they could be allies?

  “Okay.” The word had scarcely left his mouth when something slammed into him, twisting his reality once more, plunging him farther into the world of nightmares and dreamscapes.

  Kim 01:08

  Kim felt herself spiraling downward into the pit of hell itself. She slammed hard into the ground and lay there on the red brick ground, unmoving, unable to do more than open her eyes. The last thing she remembered was Polyphemus hitting her.

  Before she could figure it out, she realized a woman with hair like dried blood and eyes like fire was watching her. The woman was seated at an elegant white table. A teddy bear sat in the carved wooden chair to her left, while a stuffed blue bunny sat in the one on her right. The last seat was empty. The woman stood and limped toward Kim, her left leg a gnarled mass of unusable tissue. She bent and helped Kim to her feet, surprisingly strong despite her disability.

  “Oh my, I’ve forgotten my manners. It has been so very long since I’ve had any visitors. Would you care for some tea?” The woman had one of those very odd voices. It was the voice of someone who had long since accepted things for the way that they might be, and dismissed them as meaningless. “You simply must tell me how you’ve come to find me.”

  “I’m not sure,” Kim replied as the woman forced a teacup into Kim’s hands and pressed her down into the empty chair. Not knowing what else to do, Kim sipped slowly from the cup. Rich flavor exploded in her mouth. The milk and honey blended perfectly with the tea within.

  “Well, we can certainly figure that out, my dear child. How long will you be staying?” the woman asked, her eyes blazing in the darkness as she moved back toward her seat and sat down at the table.

  It took Kim a moment to answer. “Oh, I don’t think I’ll be staying very long.”

  “Very well then,” the woman replied, turning toward the bunny and reaching out toward the creature. “Mr. Fluffkins, please pass the butter and scones.”

  Malcom 01:04

  Malcom watched, unable to do anything as Polyphemus struck Kim. Her eyes went empty and unseeing, and her mouth hung
open as she collapsed to the ground. No.

  No.

  Not Kim.

  What had he done?

  He tried to breathe, but there was no air. He tried to scream, but his throat had gone so dry, he couldn’t make a sound.

  Malcom clutched his breast as emerald fire licked across his skin.

  The desert wind howled through the air around them.

  He reached out toward her, steam coiling up from his hand.

  Thunder boomed in the heavens above.

  Malcom took a step toward the cyclops.

  His lips twisted into a scowl as he tore his eyes from Kim’s fallen body and curled his hand into a fist. Lightning flashed through the sky, chasing back the moonlight and dousing the land in sickly green light. He took another step and hoof beats filled the air.

  One more step. Darkness fell over the land. He was so close. He could smell the sweat on the cyclops. The creature bent down and lifted Kim, throwing her over his shoulder. His hammer was back in the sling on his belt. Malcom moved even closer, green fire trailing in his wake.

  With one hand, he reached out and seized the hammer from the cyclops’ belt. The weapon writhed in his hand like a bolt of lightning. Electricity crackled in the air around him. Emerald arcs cascaded across the sky.

  Polyphemus turned toward him, horror etched into his face, his good hand reaching for the weapon. He stood there, hand outstretched toward Mal and swallowed. His adam’s apple bobbed in his massive throat as he took one tentative step backward.

  “How could you take such a weapon from me?” Polyphemus cried as wind whipped around them, howling in the darkness like a vengeful spirit.

  The hammer throbbed in Malcom’s hand, and as he held it in front of him as the sapphires gleaming along its surface shattered into a million scintillating shards. Emerald flame leapt along the hammer’s edges casting the parking lot in sickly shadow.

  Polyphemus gulped, his huge legs tensing beneath his bulk. Malcom inclined his head toward the sky. The purple portal still gleamed high overhead, and as he turned back toward the creature, Polyphemus leapt.

  Malcom flung the hammer. Thunder boomed. Lightning tore the heavens asunder. The hammer struck the portal. Nauseating green light shattered the sky. The ragged lavender edges of the gateway to wherever Polyphemus called home caught fire. The hammer hit the asphalt like a comet of green fire and lay there still smoking.

  An explosion of jade light threw the cyclops backward. He fell, crashing to the ground and splintering it beneath him. Kim’s body bounced off the pavement next to him like a broken, bloody mannequin.

  Malcom’s vision went red around the edges as he sucked in a breath of mist and shadow. He took a step toward the fallen creature, and as he moved, the injuries on his body faded away until it was like they had never been there at all. Polyphemus scrambled to his feet, grabbing Kim’s wrecked body and holding it in front of himself like a shield. “Don’t do something you’ll regret, Mors.”

  “Don’t lay another finger on her. She’s mine.” Malcom continued walking. Kim was his. He knew it in the core of his being. This creature had no right to her. He could not kill her because he was Death, and he would not allow it.

  Polyphemus glanced around and sighed, a huge exhalation of breath that seemed to deflate not just his lungs, but his soul as well. He took a step forward and heaved Kim’s body at Malcom. As she flew through the air, Malcom reached out, and the wind howled between them. It caught Kim’s body, grabbing her out of midair like she was a feather and sent her drifting harmlessly to the ground.

  The cyclops swung one huge fist at Malcom’s head. Malcom moved to the side, and the blow passed by him. With one hand, he grabbed the creature’s arm and jerked him forward. Polyphemus stumbled, falling to his knees as Malcom brought his other fist upward in an arc catching the cyclops under the chin.

  “Be gone from this realm, you have no place in it,” Malcom’s voice rang with authority as Polyphemus’ head snapped backward with a horrific crack. The creature crashed to the ground and shook his huge head.

  “Killing me will achieve nothing,” Polyphemus cried as he tried to scramble backward across the asphalt. Malcom took a step forward, and his hands blazed like torches.

  “I’m inclined to find out,” Malcom replied, and without another word, Malcom drove his right hand into the cyclops’ chest. It disappeared within the creature, phasing through his flesh rather than bursting through it. The monster howled, reaching out and grabbing Malcom’s wrist with his good hand.

  Malcom gripped something inside the creature’s body that jerked and squirmed within him like an eel. His fingers tightened on the slippery, wriggling thing and he yanked it free of the cyclops.

  An ethereal shadow struggled in his grip as Polyphemus’ hand released its hold on his wrist. The creature slumped lifelessly to the ground as Malcom released the writhing apparition. He stared at it, watching it float away into the ether as the truth of what had just happened struck him. He had torn the soul from the cyclops and in so doing, had killed the creature. Elation filled him. He had done it! He had won!

  He stepped past the creature, and Kim’s broken body filled his vision. Horror welled up inside him, clouding his vision as his blood turned to ice. Kim wasn’t breathing. He touched her, caressing her cheek with his fingers. She was as cold as ice. Still, somehow he knew she wasn’t dead. He didn’t realize he was crying until his the tears plopped down on her face. He pulled her close to him, his heart breaking over and over in a cascade of despair. If he was a horseman, if he really had the mantle of death at his disposal, what good was it if he couldn’t save the people he most cared about? Ian was gone and now Kim. He’d failed.

  “Kim stay with me. Don’t leave me again.” He cradled her body against his own as tears fell down his cheeks. “Just stay with me a while longer. Please…” He swallowed, trying to keep himself from screaming, but found he couldn’t. Sound tore itself from his throat, leaving it bloody and raw, and the heavens cried back as lightning split them asunder.

  Amy 01:02

  Amy stood with Jesse in a large control room. Sabastin had brought them to this place, though Amy wasn’t quite sure where it was. He had done little more than mutter something about how they were high up in the clouds. That was impossible, right? Not because after everything she still believed silly things like floating cities were impossible, but because surely NASA would have noticed a giant city in the clouds…

  Still, as she stared at the giant black screens with heaps of wire snaking through trays overhead, it felt like her whole body had suddenly been plunged into an arctic blizzard. Wherever they were, it was definitely freezing.

  “Um guys… am I the only one who just got really cold?” Jesse asked, his teeth chattering together as he took a step closer to her. His sudden proximity was a little unnerving, and she took an unconscious step away from him, though she wasn’t sure why. Shouldn’t she want her boyfriend near her? Especially now, after everything that had happened? Instead, she find herself wishing he would go away.

  Mist was on Sabastin’s breath as he spoke. “Something’s wrong. Everything is frozen over.” He lifted his hand from the control panel. It was covered in a layer of ice, and as he turned to face them, his eyes got as big as saucers.

  “Fames…” he muttered, reaching out toward something Amy couldn’t see. Before he’d even moved an inch, a snowball the size of a bowling ball struck his chest, flinging him backward into the screen. The monitor shattered as he fell to the ground in a flurry of sleet and broken glass.

  Amy spun around as a figure cloaked in black stepped from the shadows. Snow swirled around him like a whirlwind. His blue eyes burned ominously as he placed one hand on the hilt of a sheathed sword.

  “You cannot escape me, Bellum” Fames said. His voice was like the wind whipping across a glacier. “We are destined to be together forever.”

  Sabastin got slowly to his feet, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side. “This is
not right, Fames. You must throw off Jormungand’s influence. He’s clouded your mind to make distort reality. Get him out of your head, it’s the only way!”

  Instead of responding, the hooded man gestured with his free hand. Frost rippled outward from his fingers in a blue wave. It crashed into Sabastin, freezing him up to his neck in a jagged block of crystalline ice.

  “Do not tell me what to do,” Fames replied in a voice that was strangely familiar. “Your kind are nothing but rats on this earth. Scurrying about like you’re all so important, but you’re nothing more than scavengers.”

  Amy stared at him, trying to pierce the veil of shadow falling across his face. Beside her, Jesse moved, stepping in front of Sabastin and holding out his hands, palms up. “Ian… is that you? It sounds like you.”

  “You will come with me,” Fames turned toward her, acting as though Jesse didn’t exist. His eyes pierced her, sending shivers running down her spine like a flurry of ice cold spiders. She stepped backward. Her back bumped into the metal wall, and icy water seeped through the back of her shirt. “I will not ask again. You will come with me, or I will kill you.” He took a step forward and drew his sword. It was so dark the light in the room faded as though it actually drew the color from the room.

  “Ian… Ian stop,” Jesse said, reaching out toward the figure. But that couldn’t be Ian, could it?

  The man slashed outward as he whirled around. His blade cut through Jesse, splitting him from shoulder to crotch in a single blow. The twin pieces of Jesse fell, collapsing to the ground in a cloud of red mist. He stepped away from the body as frost crawled over it, freezing it to the ground. He held his free hand out toward her. “Come, Bellum. We have much to do.”

  Everything went sort of red and hazy as Amy looked from Jesse’s corpse to the figure and back again. Rage and hatred welled up within her as the shock faded, pushed down under the overwhelming urge to burn Fames to cinders.