Demon Mine

by Marina Simcoe

  Interestingly enough, my body was found in bed, burned beyond recognition, but a DNA analysis confirmed that it was mine. A funeral was held with family and friends in attendance…

  No wonder Jim was upset when I called! I was dead, and they buried me. I checked Sarah’s social media account as well as the accounts of my friends in Toronto. There was a memorial page in my name too, with lots of wishes for me to rest in peace. The messages on the memorial page ended with a few reminiscing posts from some of my friends on my birthday a couple of months after the funeral. Other than that, Jim was right: people had moved on.

  A lot of things could and did happen in over a year in life of someone my age. Engagement and wedding announcements were all over the personal pages of my friends, posts from holidays, pictures of pets, pictures of food…

  It shouldn’t have upset me that much that they were moving on with their lives, even as they were moving right past me, leaving me behind. I should have expected them to keep on living, even if I was gone. It’s just that I was not gone! While they had the time to accept and mourn my death, I never had the chance to mourn the loss of the only life I knew. Whenever I thought about getting free, I always thought that people were looking for me and that I had a life to come back to. Now, I truly had nothing…

  Sytrius and I didn’t end up driving into Calgary after all. Instead, we just circled around the city along the newly built highway and turned on the TransCanada Highway, heading east.

  We didn’t discuss it. He just asked me if I still wanted to visit the library or go see my cousin. I answered no. I agreed with Jim: there was no reason to show up at their door now, to disrupt their lives and the lives of their children. There was no need to dump my mess on their shoulders, especially since I couldn’t even begin to figure out how to sort it out myself.

  We were driving away from the city now. It was one of those brilliant sunny days that the weather in Calgary was known for. I leaned with the side of my forehead to the cool window of the car and watched the enormous prairie sky with a few clouds artfully arranged in perfect white swirls at the horizon.

  “Sytrius, I owe you money,” I started, unable to bear the heavy thoughts on my own any longer. I needed to come up with a plan now but couldn’t move past the question of ‘Now what?’

  “No you don’t.” He shook his head resolutely.

  “Don’t argue. The food, the clothes, the gas… You shouldn’t pay for all of it yourself.” He started to shake his head again when I interrupted him. “Where do you get the money anyway? I thought you worked for the Council for food only?”

  “Yes, I worked for the access to a Source, to you. Money means little to us. Until now, I only used it for my truck and for a few things for my place. Most of my clothes were also given to me by the Council.” He patted the army pants covering his thigh. “But you can’t spend as much time as I had in the world and not accumulate some valuables.”

  He looked at me with a small smile. It wasn’t the same smile that he gave to the coffee shop girl, not even close, but my cheeks still flared in response, and I couldn’t hold my own smile back. Spots on a leopard, I reminded myself quickly. It’s just an anglerfish light. His attraction was a trick to lure innocent victims.

  “For the past several decades, though, it’s been money that makes money, not valuables. So I have some investments too. Most of them are in Europe.”

  “Why in Europe?”

  “That’s where I spent most of my existence. I only came here about 150 years ago. Whatever investments I had here are now gone anyway. The Council sets them up for us, and they will appropriate them eventually, now that I’ve… deserted. I had some cash stored at my place. It should last for now…” Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached back, holding the wheel with one hand, and pulled the zipper of the large navy blue duffel bag that he brought from his place. I gasped as several stacks of tied together twenty, fifty and hundred dollar bills dropped to the floor. Many more were still visible inside.

  “Oh, my God, Sytrius! Just when I start to believe that you could, maybe, pass for an ordinary guy one day, you go ahead and pull something like this! Who keeps that much cash at their place?” I asked and answered my own question. “I guess the same person who travels with a duffel bag full of cash all across the country…”

  “I told you, I had some expenses with my truck and my place. I couldn’t go to the bank every month, like humans do. And no, I don’t have a credit card or even a bank account. Most of the money is in long-term investment accounts, and some was in cash at home. I also have some pieces of art in a safe deposit box in Europe… I collect them sometimes, because they are beautiful… But no, you don’t owe me anything, Alyssa. I know it is a new human custom for a woman to pay her way nowadays. A hundred years ago, it would not have been up for a discussion at all.”

  He paused for a moment and continued with emphasis.

  “You see, I feel responsible for what happened to you. I really do. I have been trying to see things your way to understand your sadness, anger and resentment. I’m not sure I can understand it all fully yet, because me being with you, inside and outside of the Council meeting room, will forever remain the best experience of my life. However, I do see how taking you from your home made you lose everything you had. Please, let me continue to take care of you for now. Besides, it’s the only thing that gives my life a purpose.”

  I had never heard anyone talk the way Sytrius did. It wasn’t just the words he said, it was also the passion and intensity he poured into them. Now, he was practically begging me to let him continue spending his money on me. It’s not that I even had a choice at the moment. Also, weirdly enough, taking money from him felt somehow better to me than it would have been taking it from anyone else.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers,” I conceded with a sigh. “I hate to mooch off you, Sytrius, I really do. Unfortunately, it looks like I will have to, at least until I figure out what to do next.” A shadow of sadness moved over my heart again.

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, consider it a payment for the nourishment you provide for me,” he offered brightly.

  “No, Sytrius, it doesn’t make me feel any better!” I punched him in the arm. “I’m selling off my feelings for food? How is it supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Okay,” he continued, undeterred. “How about we will just exchange nourishment with each other? No money needs to get involved at all. You give me your emotions in exchange for human food from me. I will just have to spend a little money to get the human food for you in the first place.” He turned to me and smiled.

  And this time it was that full-on, blindingly bright smile of his, with dimples!

  Suddenly, it no longer mattered what he said. My mouth stretched ear to ear in response, my mood lifted, and I forgot immediately what we were arguing about, watching instead as the familiar little lights of my happiness danced in his eyes once again.

  We drove the rest of the evening, stopping only for dinner and bathroom breaks for me and for gas for the car. As much as I insisted that I would be happy to just have a granola bar for dinner, especially since we were on the road, Sytrius was adamant that we find a grocery store or a restaurant with fresh nutritious food for a proper meal for me.

  It turned out, he knew a lot about human biology, health and nutrition. And when I asked where he learned it all, he explained with his usual directness that it was a big part of his training as a Handler at the base. Apparently he needed all this knowledge to “handle” me properly there.

  A couple of hours after dinner, he also decided that I should sleep in a proper bed to be more comfortable tonight and announced that we would stop at the next roadside hotel. The idea of stretching out in bed after hours spent in a seat was way too appealing to argue with him.

  He himself didn’t need any sleep and seemed to be driving tirelessly. I offered to take over once to give him a break, but he declined, and I didn’t bring it up again, reali
zing that I didn’t have a driver’s licence anymore.

  I had been going constantly through all the possible scenarios of what to do next in my head. Sytrius told me that he was planning to drive to Toronto and then take a plane from there to fly to Europe. He didn’t tell me where exactly in Europe he was going and why, and I didn’t pry.

  If the Council was indeed searching for me, I wouldn’t be safe in Toronto, just as I would not be safe anywhere in the country or, possibly, in North America. If humans had a hand in covering up my disappearance, if I was sold, or sacrificed, or whatever the hell the appropriate term for it was, then going to the human authorities could be just as dangerous for me as walking right back into the incubi base.

  “Sytrius, how far does the jurisdiction of your Council go? I’m trying to figure out how far I have to run to get away from them.” I smiled humorlessly.

  “Western Council is responsible for all incubi in the western hemisphere.”

  “That is far.” I sighed. “Is that why you’re going to Europe?”

  “Yes. Eastern Council is in Belarus.”

  “Where?”

  “Belarus. It’s a country in Eastern Europe. It used to be a part of the former Soviet Union. Your parents were born there…”

  For somebody who claimed to be losing his memories, he seemed to remember perfectly well everything that I had ever mentioned to him about me.

  “Really? Why Belarus? My parents went back a few times, but I was in school or doing something else and never went with them. It’s not a popular tourist destination. Unless you are from there, you wouldn’t normally think of visiting… It’s kind of away from everything, on the outskirts of life. The political regime is nearly authoritarian, and my parents claimed that corruption was high… Why would incubi choose to have their Council in Belarus?”

  “Exactly for these reasons. Belarus is on the outskirts of life, and incubi prefer to hide. Councils avoid major cities and crowds of people. Human civilization tends to catch up with us eventually. People breed, their settlements spread. Farms, mining and oil exploration are moving in on the base in Canada. Western Council has been looking to move in the near future, possibly to South America this time. Eastern Council, however, is safe in Belarus for now. The human population there is actually declining, and it helps when there is a certain level of corruption in the host country too. It makes it easier to stay under the radar and to pay off officials to leave us alone.”

  “You mentioned that you are a deserter now. Will Western Council be looking for you too?”

  “Yes, they will look for me for as long as it takes to find me. Can be days, can be centuries… there is no hurry when time is of no essence.”

  “What then? What would they do to you if they capture you? Will they execute you?”

  “No, you cannot kill a demon… that does not mean they cannot make me wish I was dead. If I’m captured, I would be tried and exiled to Inferno.”

  “Inferno? What is it? Like Dante’s Hell?”

  “Some do call it hell. It is in another dimension, or another world… there is no time and no space, just pure agony of pain… as your mind and flesh burn with no reprieve of death. Very similar to Deep Sleep… except that some of what happens in Deep Sleep can be forgotten with time. The torture of Inferno stays with you forever.”

  “Sounds terrible.” My eyes opened wide in disbelief. “Why would any beings, demons or not, do it to each other?”

  “Well, I hope that not all of us would deem it an appropriate punishment for me in this case…”

  “Is that why you’re going to Belarus?”

  He nodded.

  “I used to know somebody who was a member of Eastern Council for a couple of centuries. His name is Andras. We fought side by side during the wars with humans before then. I summoned him as soon as I brought you to my place.” He hesitated for a second before adding. “He let me believe that Eastern Council may be sympathetic to my situation if I stand in front of them and present my case. I’ll go to Germany first to meet with Andras there; he will take me to the Council in Belarus then.”

  Western or Eastern, personally, I would just prefer to stay away from all incubi councils as far as possible… But something didn’t add up here.

  “Wait a second. How can Andras be in Germany if the Council is in Belarus? Aren’t incubi supposed to stay close to the Council and to the human women held at the base in order to be fed?”

  Sytrius nodded slowly.

  “Exactly. The things are done a little differently there. That’s why Andras thinks that I may have a chance.”

  “I hope you do,” I said sincerely and stifled a yawn. It was getting late.

  “There is a sign for a motel.” Sytrius pointed. “We’ll stay there tonight; you need to sleep.”

  “As long as they don’t require a credit card,” I reminded, “and won’t ask me for an ID. You may have to check in by yourself and then sneak me in later.”

  Chapter Twenty. In The Motel.

  The rules in regards to IDs and credit cards turned out to be pretty lax at the motel that we found. The tired-looking male clerk at the management office was more than happy to rent the room for cash to us, especially when Sytrius offered to leave a security deposit. In case I had any lingering worries about IDs, his question ‘For the whole night or by the hour?’ clued me in that he probably wouldn’t insist on seeing my driver’s licence or even on knowing my real name.

  I was expecting anything after that and made sure to bring the blanket from the car to put on top of the bed in the room, just in case there had been some by-the-hour customers in that bed recently.

  The motel looked like it hadn’t had any renovations for at least a couple of decades. Outside, the pale yellow stucco was cracked and chipped. Inside, the furniture in the room was old and mismatched and the carpet on the floor was worn out to the point that it was hard to tell what the original colour of it was.

  I was relieved to see, though, that as worn and dated as it was, our room looked reasonably clean. The white sheets with pale blue flower designs on them looked freshly washed, and the bathroom looked usable. Only now I thought of the added bonus of staying in a motel for the night: I could finally take a shower! Suddenly, I didn’t even feel that tired anymore.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said to Sytrius as I grabbed the bag with toiletries off the chair where he had put it and headed to the bathroom.

  The water spluttered from the showerhead with an angry loud noise for the first few seconds, but then turned into a warm steady stream before I had a chance to become really worried. I took all my clothes off quickly and got into the shower. The water hit my back and shoulders, stiff after the long drive, and I almost moaned with relief, stretching my weary muscles under the hot stream. Nothing could ever be more revitalizing than the hot shower, especially if taken after a gap of well over a year!

  I shampooed my hair and scrubbed my skin with fragrant soap, feeling more and more like a human being. I imagined that the soapy water running off me was taking the smell and the feel of the dungeon cell along with all the grime and dirt and carried it away down the drain, never to touch me again.

  After the shower, I felt if not completely cleansed from my experiences in the basement, then still much cleaner in general. I wrapped the thin motel towel over myself, washed my undergarments in the sink, and brushed my teeth.

  Unfortunately, the grey pair of flannel pajamas from the incubi base was the only spare clothes I had. I hesitated before putting them on. However, the pajamas were more appropriate to sleep in than the street clothes that I travelled in for almost two days now, and I needed to wear something to bed. I couldn’t possibly walk around wrapped in nothing but a towel and sleep in the nude with Sytrius around. He might not need to sleep himself and wouldn’t share the bed with me, but he still was staying inside the room for the night.

  To be completely honest, after the incident in the car, I was more concerned about me than him. Obviou
sly, I had no control around him, so the more layers of clothing between us, the better.

  Sytrius had organized the few things he brought in from the car while I was in the shower and stood by the window when I walked out the bathroom with the hairbrush in my hand.

  “Are you hungry? Would you like to eat anything?” He turned to me and pointed at the cooler bag on the table. He was beginning to remind me of a mother of a toddler who always carried around a bag with snacks ready to combat the hungry tantrums of her child.

  I smiled and shook my head.

  “No, thank you. I’m good. I’ll just brush my hair and go to bed if you don’t mind. The shower was so good!” I added with a lazy stretch of my neck and shoulders.

  He closed the distance between us and took the hairbrush out of my hand.

  “I can do it,” I protested, feeling flustered again just from him being so close.

  “I’ve always wanted to. Please let me,” he asked softly.

  I remembered he said that taking care of me gave him purpose and nodded, turning around to give him a better access to my still wet hair. He tossed the brush onto the bed and ran his gloved fingers through my hair first, massaging my scalp and separating the hair into strands. He then picked up the hairbrush again and began to brush my hair section by section, gently getting all of the tangles out.

  He claimed that taking care of me gave him purpose. Well, when he took care of me like this, it made me feel cherished. Whether I still was just a Source to him or not, his movements were gentle and deliberate. Even if he still did it because he was trained to do it and couldn’t stop now when it was no longer his job, his touch was caring and sensual. It felt real and it made me feel special. In return, my heart was overflowing with affection for him, warming me inside out. He probably knew it. He most likely could see it inside of me. He undoubtedly was feeding on it right now and, possibly, it was the true reason why he brushed my hair in the first place.