The Preternatural Chronicles: Books 0-3

by Hunter Blain

  “I think I understand,” Taylor said. Now it was his turn to place an understanding hand on my shoulder.

  Glancing at my bare wrist, I said, “Welp, look at the time. Gotta fly!” As I finished, I willed blood out from between my shoulder blades, up and over my trench coat. The blood extended out and then down at a ninety-degree angle before forming into thick bones. From the bones grew leatherlike skin with swoops at the bottom akin to a bat’s wings. Once complete, I extended the wings in a truly impressive wingspan that made Taylor gasp and take a few steps back. I gave them a few test flaps, and dust shot out like waves on the sand.

  Let me take control until you get the hang of them, Baleius suggested. Plus, you will look like an imbecile if you falter after awkwardly avoiding the understanding Taylor just tried to give to you.

  Good idea, Dr. Phil. All you, I said as I let go of the steering wheel of my mind and let the demon in my head take over. Without another word, he lifted my head to the sky, brought my wings straight up, crouched at the knees, and shot up into the air. Once I cleared the ground by several yards, I flapped the massive bloodwings once and soared into the clear night sky. A few more flaps and I was at the cloud line and above the mountains. I leveled out, turned to the east, and began flying home.

  Holy…shit, I said to Baleius. This is so fucking awesome. I’m flying, dude!

  We, Baleius responded before laughing in enjoyment at my childlike glee. There is so much more for you to learn, he said. I became even more excited at the many lessons that were to come.

  Hey, I started to ask, turning around to face him in the control room of my mind, how do you know so much? I mean, you said you didn’t remember anything before me, right?

  The only way I can adequately explain it is to say that it is in my nature to know. I am what gave you these abilities.

  You don’t remember anything before me? And what you do remember while with me was seen through a mind that was only partially free?

  He stopped focusing on the scene outside the windows of my eyes to look at me with an unsure expression. I don’t really know how to convey my thoughts. I remember the events taking place—I was just unable to communicate. My reactions were also limited to their base modalities.

  Something hit me then. I had a dream recently. In that dream, there was a group of demons sitting around a fire. I approached them, and they told me that fallen angels in the beginning could choose either brains or brawn. I was pacing back and forth in front of the windows, trying to piece everything together as I spoke. But! He mentioned that a select few had been able to maintain their angelic brains and brawn—or something like that. I was interrupted before I got anything more.

  Are you implying, delicately by the way, that I gave you strength in exchange for mental fortitude?

  Exactly! And for some reason, now you have been unlocked like a secret character in a video game. And I didn’t have to pay $19.99 to get you! Score!

  I’ve been free all of fifteen minutes and I am already exhausted.

  Yeah, that happens a lot, I said dismissively. Do you have a better explanation?

  At the moment, no, Baleius admitted.

  Who knows, man; maybe in a future book?

  That’s annoying. Why do you do that?

  What? Break the fourth wall? I asked innocently.

  Precisely. It is not an endearing quality and only provides confusion to your friends and allies.

  Meh. I like doing it. You knew what you were getting into when you said “I do.” Baleius responded with complete silence while turning his head to stare out the windows, allowing his consciousness back outside. I stood and looked out of one of the portholes in my skull and gawked in wonder as we pierced through a cloud and came out on top. It was what every God-fearing man described a typical Heaven as; white fluffy clouds that carpeted below as far as I could see, and a star-filled sky above. Over the desert, there wasn’t any light pollution, allowing me to see every star, every galaxy. It reminded me of the centuries leading up to the inevitable invention of the light bulb—man had always had a fascination with harnessing the power and light of the sun. The constant illumination poisoned the sky and choked the stars.

  As I watched, I had an urge I needed to act on. I wanted to feel the wind on my skin.

  Can you teach me how to use the wings? I asked hesitantly, like a nervous child asking the teacher if he could use the bathroom.

  Of course, Baleius responded, taking a step to the side so that I could place a hand on the wheel. Notice the pattern; flap, upward drift, level off, lift wings before we start dropping, and flap again. After you are at the height you wish, extend the wings to soar.

  I did as instructed, but it felt weird. I tried to use my arms to flap, which equated to us starting to fall back to the cloud cover.

  Focus, John. They aren’t a part of you like your appendages. Moving your muscles will not make them work.

  I focused and flapped out of sync, which threw me into a disorienting roll toward the ground. I came out the bottom of the cloud cover and rushed toward the ground below. As I tumbled, the brown earth swapped places with the clouds to become the sky before twirling back into place for a split second.

  Okay, you take control, I said nervously as I stepped away from the wheel and motioned to it. I don’t know what’ll happen if we hit the ground from here.

  If we hit and your brain is rocketed from your skull on impact, we’ll die.

  Take the Lilith-damned wheel! I pleaded.

  No. This is a lesson you must learn.

  I stood looking at him, searching for signs of submission. When I didn’t see any, I belted out a quick scream of frustration while throwing my hands up and letting them drop onto the wheel.

  The greedy earth rushed to embrace me. The only thing missing were pouty red cartoon lips that made sultry kissy motions beckoning me to my doom.

  Is this where your story ends, John? As a smear on the desert floor? I wonder how long it will take the animals to eat our flesh—if such a thing is even possible. Either way, the morning sun will surely remove your remains from the face of the Earth.

  That pissed me off. I was not going to saunter off into eternity because I couldn’t control my own manifestation.

  Concentrating, I felt my wings and made the right one extend to level off my rolling. As I leveled off, I imagined my wings flapping once. They obeyed, and my descent slightly slowed. I repeated the thought again and again until I was flying steadily a few hundred yards above the ground. The pouty red cartoon lips frowned in disappointment then stuck out their tongue and blew me a raspberry.

  “WEEEEEEEEEEE!” I cried into the night as the wind attempted to deafen me by rushing past my ears. I felt my beanie start to slip as I picked up speed, forcing me to manifest my medieval bloodhelmet. This served to keep my loyal headwear in place, but also protected me from things in the air that might slam into my face, like birds. I’d had my fair share of run-ins with giant bugs at ludicrous speeds and did not want to see what a bird would feel like.

  I tucked one wing in and did a controlled roll this time, screaming in pure joy as I did. Untucking the wing, I leveled off and tilted the top of the wings upward, which sent us into a wide barrel roll. At the crest of the loop, we lost momentum and began falling straight down. I pulled both my wings close to my body and oriented on the ground before extending them out to their full, magnificent glory.

  I was so delighted that I sang a tune from my favorite Disney movie, “A whole neeeew wooooooorrrrrrrld. A new fantastic poooiiiint of view.”

  Really? Aren’t you supposed to be some badass vampire that rips his prey limb from limb? Baleius goaded.

  Aaaaand the cause of the apocalypse. Don’t you dare forget that.

  Oh yes. How could I have forgotten.

  I was really starting to get the hang of things when the first signs of dawn reared their ugly tendrils.

  We will have to find a safe spot to rest, Baleius said. And don’t even think
about trying to outrun the sun. I honestly have no idea how you aren’t ash by now.

  Agreed, but only because I have no idea where the fuck we are, I admitted. If I did, I’d probably try and beat the dawn. I stopped flapping and began gliding down, my eyes scanning the ground for a suitable location to rest during the day.

  Wait! I exclaimed more to myself than to my new verbal companion. I have an idea.

  Do you mean a plan? Baleius snickered to himself.

  Oh, Lilith. Is this what I’m like?

  Yes indeed, my friend. Now, about that plan?

  I carefully pulled out my phone—OtterBox case or not, I didn’t know if it could survive a plummet from several hundred feet up—and selected my Hilton app. I had to open and crash the program several times before I decided to give up.

  Hmm. That’s odd, I mused to Baleius.

  What is it?

  The phone isn’t working. I just got the damn thing! Baleius didn’t respond.

  I put my phone into the inside pocket of my trench and oriented on a major highway.

  There is bound to be a hotel along the road.

  Within seven minutes of flight, we located the sign of a Holiday Inn.

  Damn, I lamented.

  What is it?

  Not a Hilton. I have so many points with them.

  Any port in a storm, Baleius responded.

  As we soared—covering vast distances in record time—I truly appreciated Baleius.

  Dude, I began with awe in my voice, I wish I had learned to fly long ago. We got here in no time.

  There will be many lessons to come. But for now, let’s get to the room.

  Just as the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon and caress the clouds, I landed in the parking lot. Well, I say landed, but one might be able to successfully argue in a court of law that I crashed and tumbled as I hit the ground at Mach speed—and they would win.

  Yeah, sorry about that, Baleius said. You were doing so well, and I thought you had it.

  Grabbing the wrist that had broken my fall, and itself, I yanked it back into place with a crunch to let it heal. Next time, don’t trust me to know what I’m doing. I only look and sound confident; inside my head is a monkey playing with electrical wires on the space shuttle.

  Well, while we are on the subject, Baleius said hesitantly, you might have landed with giant wings in a parking lot surrounded by cameras. Giant wings that are still out, mind you.

  Shit! I barked, willing the manifestation to quickly retreat into my back along with my bloodhelmet.

  Nothing to be done about it now. Dawn is upon us. We will simply have to hope that no one will have any reason to view the footage.

  As we walked toward the front door, a thought struck me. Um, hey…you weren’t present every time I, uh…was intimate, were you? ’Cause before, it was like doing it in front of your dog. But now…

  Yes, but that is a discussion for another time. Morning is upon us.

  As we walked through the sliding glass doors, a young black female looked up from her screen to regard me with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Huge glasses slid down her nose as she gawked, her gaze shifting from me back to her screen, which showed the parking lot in astonishingly crystal-clear resolution.

  6

  “Um, hi?” I greeted in response to the speechless caramel-skinned young woman in front of me. A white plastic name tag had “Tiff” stenciled on it. “Checking in?” I said as she continued to gawk.

  “Y-you…” she stammered, pointing at my shoulders.

  “Had wings, right. All an illusion. Can I check in, please?” I said quickly, turning my head to regard the light creeping toward the building. It was like watching a tsunami in slow motion. I didn’t have time to handle this.

  There is an easy way to ensure she doesn’t speak, Baleius offered.

  No! She’s innocent. Besides, who’s going to believe some teenager?

  She was looking at the screen. What do you think was on it?

  Shit. You’re right. What are our options? We only have a few minutes.

  I have a solution. Extend your hand toward her, and follow me. I extended my hand with my fingers stretched toward the stunned clerk before retreating inside my mind. Letting Baleius take control of the wheel, I followed him out of the control room, down my arm, and into the woman’s head.

  With Baleius as my guide, I followed him to the storage room I was used to seeing whenever I successfully entered someone’s mind. In the center was a single file cabinet that represented short-term memory. As I opened it, I immediately saw what we were looking for.

  There’s the recent memory file, I said, pointing.

  In a moment. First, we must get her to erase the footage.

  I-I can do that? I asked, intrigued. Ulric had never completely shown me how to control a mortal’s mind. On the one occasion he’d attempted the lesson, I had drove the human completely insane. A still image of a man tearing his own face off sped through my mind like the flash of a gun at night—violent, bright, and gone as quickly as it arrived.

  There is much you can do, John. The older you become, the more power you’ll come into. The more power you accumulate, the more abilities will be available. Now focus. Baleius ascended through the ceiling of the storage room we were in with me in tow. Like a pair of specters, we entered the control room of her mind, which was in sharp contrast to my own. Where mine was monochrome and minimalist, hers was full of anime posters, bright colors, and furniture comprised of giant beanbag chairs.

  The hell is this? I asked, looking around in amazement.

  Her unconscious decor.

  I mean, mortals have control rooms as well? How did I never know this?

  You know now.

  Can I do this too? I inquired, pointing to the decorations.

  You want anime posters? Baleius asked, walking up to a beanbag positioned in front of her eyes and inspecting it. He was clearly more interested in the mission at hand than he was in entertaining my man cave fantasy.

  No, dude. Movie posters! Batman. Batman Returns. Robocop. Predator…

  I get it, Baleius interrupted, turning to face outside her eyes as he sat down. Now watch. His eyes went unfocused, and the scene outside started moving. I walked to the eye-windows and saw a hand in front of me with fingers outstretched. It was surreal looking at my own body.

  I was a passenger watching a movie scene unfold before me. The camera panned, locking onto the computer. Caramel-colored hands came into view and began flying over the keyboard. The file containing the latest date was located and opened.

  “Hmm,” Baleius hummed through his host’s lips.

  What?

  Using his own mouth—or should I say, metaphysical mouth—Baleius said, The date is off.

  Probably just a lazy typo or something.

  Inside the folder were several files that were labeled with the areas they covered and today’s date. The parking lot file was opened, and Baleius began skimming the video by clicking the play bar.

  How do you know how to do all this? I asked, turning to look at Baleius in his comfy-looking chair.

  I don’t. But she does, he said while his eyes remained unfocused.

  Interesting, I said to myself as I returned my gaze to the scene outside. Baleius had found the part where I landed like a graceful butterfly, and was rewinding it over and over. Empty parking lot, peaceful, super buff vampire smashes into the concrete and rolls with limbs flailing. Rewind. Empty parking lot, peaceful—DUDE! I get it!

  The girl began laughing as she watched the screen. Her laugh was odd because it was a male demon’s chortle but through the vocal cords of a mortal female.

  When Baleius was done with his torture, he commanded her hand to grasp the mouse, hover over the delete icon, and click. The screen went back to the other folders, and Baleius clicked “Live” to return the cameras to normal.

  Might want to check us in and get a key card, I anxiously suggested as the morning light began to enter the lobb
y. Baleius made the hands fly as if he had been working as the front desk clerk for months.

  Got it. Follow me, and we’ll snag the memory on our way out, Baleius said as he stood up.

  Hey, why wasn’t she in here? I asked, looking around.

  You mean the mental representation of herself?

  Yeah. Why’s the room all done up if she isn’t here to enjoy it?

  Did you have a mental copy of yourself when you were mortal?

  Uh, I don’t think so, I said as I thought back.

  You had no need, or even the mental capacity, until I came along.

  Makes sense, I suppose. Still doesn’t explain the decorations.

  Unconscious, just as yours is.

  Aw, man. My subconscious is boring.

  Your subconscious isn’t an early twenties young woman who enjoys watching anime in its original tongue.

  You mean without the dubs? I questioned, unbelieving. Who does that?

  Tiff does, Baleius said as we floated through the floor below. We located the memory and popped the file like a bubble.

  That was easy, I commented.

  It was a short-term memory not yet solidified to long-term. Easy to do when fresh.

  What about when it becomes long-term?

  Still doable, but you risk damage to the mind. Synapses are created and branched to other memories, forming a delicate network. Destroying one could cause a cascade of problems that might become irreversible.

  Good to know. We flowed out of her essence and back up my arm and into the control room. I noticed that it was now filled with framed movie posters and comfy leather furniture fit for a bachelor’s pad.

  Neat! I exclaimed in pleasant surprise as I ran around the room admiring all the epic movie posters. On one, Arnold sat astride a motorcycle brandishing a lever-actuated shotgun. Next to it was a man in a parka with lights shooting out of his face for John Carpenter’s The Thing. Another had a picture of Jodie Foster’s head with a moth where her lips should be. I all but skipped to the other side of the room to admire a poster of Pinhead holding the Lament Configuration. I giggled as I saw Bruce Campbell on another poster in front of a dark castle with a chain saw for a hand and his shirt ripped, revealing a super buff, airbrushed body.