The awful pain and suffering my father endured returned to me in a sudden burst of remembrances. I slumped and covered my face with my hands. A terrible burning and aching sensation inside my ribcage drained my energy. I recognized the fire-breathing angel and the great scaly beast. However, I held no recollection of the gruesome being that attacked me. I sat gawking at the forest.
What if this beast still lurked in this forest? The fiend could make another attempt to take my life once it realizes I am still among the living. How could I leave the cave knowing it could be skulking in the shadows ready to pounce on me? I rubbed my neck and took quick, shallow breaths. Enough! For too long I have lingered, allowing my fears to ensnare me and cause me to waste with hunger. I must feed.
I gathered enough courage to venture out to find nourishment. Day after day I left in search of food and, after I consumed my fill, returned home. Days turned into weeks and weeks to months, and I grew into a powerful hunter.
Years passed in a blur of loneliness and angst, as I kept to my routine. Although no longer a child, nightmares of the assailing creature continued to haunt me on some nights. The monster’s identity still eluded me. Nor could I evoke images of my mother, yet a feeling grew inside me, convincing me she yet lived.
I grew up in solitude. I often reasoned that perhaps I should have been hidden away, for who would want to set eyes on a grotesque, nefarious creature such as myself? I spent many lonely days and nights in the forest, feeling discarded and forsaken. I often wondered if others like me existed.
Through the years, food became scarce in the diminutive forest. I had the appetite of a creature fully grown. Thus, I had to make the decision to leave the woodland and my fears behind and go in search of a new home and companionship, for the need for affection grew strong in me. I had always longed for companionship, but as time went on the need became urgent.
I gathered my few belongings, mostly hunting weapons I forged with my own hands and animal hides I used as clothes, and began my journey. I glided quietly through the woods, and although I left my childhood behind, I was not yet an adult and fear crept into my heart. What if the monster, which once attempted to take my life, leaped from behind one of the trees to finish what it had begun years ago?
My diligent eyes surveyed my surroundings. Sunlight filtered through the treetops. Soon I would be immersed in full sunlight for the first time since I was an innocent. The thought comforted me. I listened to the crackling of branches. They touched and grasped at me when I slithered by, as if to stop me from leaving. The scent of decomposing leaves reminded me of beginnings and endings. I shall not meet my end here.
When I emerged from the sticks and claws of the forest, the sun’s rays swathed me in warmth and light, and feelings of joy radiated throughout my body. Shaking with excitement, a sensation of whirling overtook me. I hoped to find my mother, and thus everything would be good in the world.
Chapter 2
SERENDIPITY
The afternoon sun greeted me with a blazing embrace. I looked ahead through squinted eyes. Sand spread as far as the eye can see. I skimmed through the desert, happy to leave the dark woods behind, to venture into new territory.
Mellifluous voices vibrating together in song stopped me in my tracks. I had never perceived such a sweet sound, so I followed it.
I caught familiar fragrances from long ago, like the crisp, fresh scent of salty sea air, tangy and fishy with notes of seaweed and palm trees, sweet and fruity. The voices led me to the coast. I came across an area of shallow water separated from the sea by coral reefs and low sandy dunes. Large rocks, most covered in green moss, were strewn in and around the inlet. The singing grew louder as I approached the beach.
Upon one of the moss-covered rocks sat two beings, their voices raised in beautiful harmony. As I approached from behind, the singing stopped, as if they were somehow aware of my presence. They turned to face me and I stood motionless, in awe of them, fighting the urge to run and hide behind a tree.
“What sort of creature are you?” one of the beings asked, narrowing her eyes and wrinkling the bridge of her nose.
“What kind of being are you?” I frowned, displeased with the expression on her face. “Your head and upper body is female, but your lower body is of a fish.”
Her flaxen hair fell past her waist and rippled like a silvery wave as she tossed her head. “We are creatures of the sea. We call ourselves mermaids.”
I gazed upon them for a long time. The skin of their upper bodies was smooth and sun-kissed. Their lips were raspberry-tinted and their cheeks peachy. They were enticing creatures and somehow familiar to me.
“You have yet to tell us who you are, stranger.” The other mermaid played with her curly hair, the color of dahlias in the morning sun.
“Apologies. My name is Dracúl. I am son of Satan.” I bowed my head to show respect. Upon hearing my name, the mermaids gasped and looked at each other with fearful expressions.
“Our father has spoken of you. He thought you dead.” The one with the flaxen hair looked sideways at me with her piercing, gray-blue eyes.
I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes, feeling bewildered by their reaction. “Who is your father?”
“His name is Dagon,” they responded in unison.
The name quickened memories of a tall, wingless angel with long, smooth, pale hair and piercing gray-blue eyes, resembling one of the mermaids.
“I recall your father—an aquatic creature, half male, half fish. But I also remember him standing on two legs like my father.” I watched the mermaids, waiting for their reaction.
“Our father was once a Principality in the hierarchy of angels in Floraison, which is the level of Heaven where the angels reside.” The mermaid with the golden curls turned on the rock to face me.
“God ordered he be cast out of Floraison, like your father. Upon falling into Earth’s ocean, he lost his angelic wings and transformed into a sea creature. Later, he discovered he could change into his angel form—minus the wings—but only during the light of day and at a great cost. For when the sun hides behind the horizon, our father must return to sea, and upon doing so he must suffer the torment of drowning before he is once again a merman.”
I was motionless for a moment, attempting to process the new information being given to me.
“Are you capable of changing like your father?” I pointed to their fish tails. “Are you able to walk on land?”
“Oh no!” The one with the wild curls shook her head, peering at me with her hooded, pecan-brown eyes. “We are born of this world. We do not possess our father’s powers.”
“Have you tried?” I had a curious nature, although I had never attempted to change forms myself, in fear of being disappointed. Never meant to be, God had cursed me with a hideous form, for His enemies had begotten me. This is what I had chosen to believe.
“No,” the brown-eyed mermaid replied.
“Why not?” I insisted.
The mermaids glanced at each other.
“There has never been cause.” The mermaid with the gray-blue eyes shrugged and scowled.
I tilted my head and furrowed my brow. “There is a vast world on Earth you have not yet seen. There are new experiences to be had outside the waters. I can be of help to you, if you can overlook my coarse and repulsive appearance.” I grinned at them, hoping I did not look even more sinister by doing so. “Please try.”
The brown-eyed mermaid glanced at her sister. Her sister frowned and shook her head, but the curly haired mermaid giggled, leaped into the water, and swam close to shore. She stared at me from the water as her sister looked on.
“Close your eyes,” I told her. “Imagine yourself standing on two legs.”
The mermaid closed her big brown eyes. When she opened them again, I reached out with my red, clawed hand. Distracted, she glanced at her lower body and took my hideous hand. She possessed two long, shapely legs and a pair of dainty feet. I helped her stand. Clinging to me, she took sever
al staggering steps onto the beach.
Her sister gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. Her blonde eyebrows arched as she watched.
I let go of her and took a few steps away. She tittered and wobbled in place. “Come to me.” I beckoned with my hands. She bit her bottom lip and took a few more awkward steps toward me. She shook with laughter as she staggered and almost fell.
“Why do you laugh?” I chuckled at the look of wonder and glee on her face.
“I sense the warm sand under my feet. I have feet!” She wore a wide grin and wiggled her toes, which almost caused her to tumble.
I waited for her with open arms. When she reached me I hugged her, and we tumbled to the ground, chortling.
“When you closed your eyes, what did you think about?” I said, gazing at the fetching creature.
She placed a hand over her heart. “I thought of my mother strolling along on the beach.” She scrambled to her feet and, with an ebullient attitude, tried again. She looked over her shoulder toward her sister who sat sulking on the rock.
“Come, sister, walk upon the sand. It is splendid.” She waved to her to come, but her sister shook her head, arms crossed, her lips pursed.
The brown-eyed mermaid stepped inside the shallow waters of the lagoon and waded to her sister.
“Come. You must try.” She took her sister’s hand.
Her sister pulled away and dove into the water. “I am going to find Father and tell him everything!” She swam away in a huff. The brown-eyed mermaid stared openmouthed at me.
I shrugged. “Do not fret. You have done nothing wrong.” I believed this. “Come, let us explore this land together.”
The mermaid dipped her body in the water and then waded toward me. My gaze caressed her wet body, glistening with the sun’s rays. Something came over me. Sensations I did not recognize, and had never been aware of, overwhelmed me. My body responded in ways I had never known. Memories of watching Samael and Gadreel interact in carnal ways exploded in full color in my mind. Gadreel! That is who this creature reminds me of. The tousled, curly, golden hair, the large, sleepy, brown eyes, the giggle, the smile—she is so much like her.
“Who bore you, stunning creature?” My eyes followed the curves of her face.
“Also a celestial being, my mother ranked high as Cherubim in the hierarchy of angels.” At first, she used a high-pitched and cheery voice, but then it softened and became somber. “Like my father and yours, she too had to leave Floraison. On Earth she betrayed my father with another. Now we are forbidden to speak her name.”
“I only recall happy moments and warm exchanges with your mother, Gadreel.”
I watched as her hand flew to cover her mouth and her eyes opened wide. “You knew my mother?”
“Yes.” I gazed into her eyes. “She was as exquisite as you are. You have her hair, her eyes, and even your laugh resembles hers. You are your mother’s daughter. I do not know what she did to your father, but I do know she loves you and your sister very much. She has been searching for you.”
The mermaid contemplated me. “I am called Coralia, and my sister is Cleodora.” She smiled, but her jutting lower lip and doleful, shimmering eyes told a different story.
I moved toward her. “You miss your mother and long to see her, perhaps as much as I yearn to be with my own mother.”
She opened her mouth and stared at me, wide-eyed. “Did you read my mind?”
I shook my head and chuckled. “I did not need to.” I reached for her hand. At the sight of my large, clawed, red hand she flinched. She stared at it for a few seconds, bit her lip, and slowly placed her hand in mine. We moved together. At that moment, I believed I had made a friend for life and would never be lonely again.
“Halt!” a masculine voice thundered. Coralia and I did as the voice commanded and whirled around.
“Where are you taking my daughter, Dracúl?” Dagon asked in a taut voice. My jaw dropped upon seeing the massive creature.
“You know who I am?” My voice quavered.
“Of course I do. You are the image of your father, and you are part serpent like your mother, which is why you are not to be trusted.” He glared at me. “Come to me, Coralia.”
She withdrew from me, crestfallen. As she stepped away I experienced a deep, aching pain in my chest. If a monstrous beast had rammed its tusk into my heart, wounding it, it would have been equally agonizing. I rubbed my chest.
Dagon took her by the hand and pulled her close to him. “Returning to your mermaid form shall not be pleasant.” He turned to walk away, pulling her along.
She glanced over her shoulder at me. Fear etched her face.
“I do not know my mother,” I cried after them in a brittle voice. “My memories are hazy and vague.”
He stopped and looked at me sideways. “What has happened to you?”
His question jarred me. “I cannot explain what is wrong with me. As a child, I awoke one night in the darkness of a forest. Disoriented, I made my way to a cave where I recalled I lived with my father and mother. No one greeted me when I arrived. Some of my memories have returned since, but not all. I have memories of my father, Samael, Gadreel, and even you, but I do not remember my mother.” I held back tears. I did not wish for Coralia to behold my eyes welled up with blood.
Dagon started when I mentioned Gadreel’s name but remained stolid.
“I have lived a secluded life, until now.” I tried to make him understand. “I cannot bear to be alone any longer. If my mother yet lives, and you know her whereabouts, tell me where she is. I implore you.”
Dagon pressed his lips together. His haunted expression revealed that perhaps he felt something for me.
“You mentioned that you recalled me?” Dagon said, squinting at me.
“Yes. I saw you walk out of the sea as a child. I played on the beach alone, and you carried me off the sand and spoke to me. You were kind. I did not fear you.” My voice broke as I relived the experience. My efforts to remain composed had a wearing effect on me.
Dagon took steps toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder in a kind gesture. “After Gadreel and I parted, I used to surface from time to time to observe the happenings in my absence. I watched for long periods the interactions between you and your mother. One day, I wanted to take you away from her, but thoughts of your father prevented me from doing so. Do not pursue your mother. What would be best is for you to leave memories of her buried deep in the dark crevasses of your mind.”
I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. He turned away, guiding Coralia to the water.
“Must I remain alone? Why must I stay behind when I desire to go with you?” I said, my heart pounding.
Dagon stopped again. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips. Without turning to face me this time he uttered, “We are aquatic creatures. Our place is in the depths of the ocean—your place is on solid ground. Our nature is to dwell underwater; therefore, you do not belong with us.”
Coralia continued to gaze at me with a woeful expression.
I hung my head and wrapped my arms around myself. I thought I had found a friend.
“Gadreel searches for you and your daughters. She misses and loves you all,” I yelled as Dagon pulled Coralia further out to sea. He turned to face me, tears cascading from his eyes, but soon the sea spray wiped away his obvious heartache.
Coralia glanced at her father’s face, as did I. He appeared sad to have forsaken me on the beach once more.
Coralia released herself from her father’s grasp and swam back to me. I slithered into the water to meet her halfway. I stopped when I observed a grimace of pain on her face.
“My legs… the pain is terrible… crushing my lower body.” She groaned and collapsed into the water. I overheard her gasps and wheezes as she squirmed and bobbed in and out of the water.
“What is wrong? How can I help you?” I reached for her with both hands, but I did not know what to do.
“I suffer agonizing pressure in my lower e
xtremities. It feels as if a giant beast squeezed my legs together so tight my bones crushed under the pressure.” She screamed and winced.
I dove beneath the water. Her legs flailed, but nothing gripped them.
Dagon returned and enfolded her in his arms. I held my breath and watched with a fixed gaze, unable to move, as her legs and feet became one and scales formed over her skin. Fins soon appeared, and she returned to her mermaid form. Dagon moaned and cringed, also suffering the agony of transformation, but he continued to hold his daughter as she screamed in pain.
I surfaced and watched her tremble and wail. Desiring to comfort her somehow, I inched nearer to her.
Dagon raised a hand. “Do not come any closer, for there is nothing you can do.” He hung his head. “I tried to spare my daughters this pain, and the drowning to follow, but somehow I failed.”
My shoulders sagged. I shook as I watched Coralia’s suffering, a low groaning sound bubbling from my mouth.
As soon as she stopped screaming, Dagon shoved her below the surface of the water and held her down. She splashed and weltered, her eyes open wide. I sloshed through the water to stop him.
He glared at me. “Stop!”
“What are you doing to her?” I was unable to bear her agonizing any longer. I blamed myself for her suffering.
“I am helping her make the transition to her aquatic form. This must transpire; it is the way of it.” He kept her under, but his arms trembled.
I froze, watching in horror as Coralia floundered and swallowed water, drowning by her father’s hand.
I plunged underwater, compelled to witness the change. Her face became motionless. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, exposing only their milky whiteness. Tiny bubbles rose from her lips. When Dagon let her go, her body floated lifeless above the water.
Son of the Serpent Page 2