by L W Rogers
I go to each candle in turn, lighting it and then invoking the element like myself and the coven had done, not so long ago. Usually spirit is the last element to be called when casting a circle, but because I needed to draw the most strength, I always call my dominant element last.
As I invite my element to join me, a whole new feeling comes with it. The heat that I usually feel welcoming me now burns at the back of my throat. Beads of sweat are threatening my brow and a fierce rage swarms within my veins. My pulse gallops, my eyes are watering. It frightens me, but I know that I can’t stop now, or fight it. This must be what it’s like for everyone that goes through this (although a little ‘heads up’ would have been nice).
I close my eyes, concentrating on my breathing and remember the other elements I have with me, I use these to calm myself, gaining balance within all the elements. Once I can feel my element simmering down, I regain focus and open my eyes. Everything is as it should be. Phew. Without needing to recite from the book I begin the incantation.
Ancestors of the past, come to me and settle here
Here my plea, I conjure thee
My time has come
So, mote it be
I ask of you to bring with thee
The power of our ancestors, to flow through me
I heed your guidance, and your power
In this final witching hour
Grant for me this one gift
To become the vessel of eternal power
To protect myself and my coven
I invite it in, so mote it be.
I open my eyes and I feel nothing. I check the book to ensure that I have said it right. Yup. Was I meant to feel something once it was done? I’m pretty sure I was. I don’t feel any different though. Hmm!
I close my eyes and concentrate again. Blocking out everything else, every worry I have, every doubt that I’m not good enough, everything. I let the words flow from my mouth smoothly as if it is a melody I am singing. I begin to feel my body warm again like it usually does when my fire power ignites. I place my arms out in front of me instinctively, palms down, like I know what I am doing (which at this point I have no clue) and continue the incantation. With each word, the heat ramps up a notch, my rage building to an unnatural level. I continue to concentrate even though I am now beginning to feel quite unwell. It must be working. I just need to get through these last few sentences. My stomach burns and I instantly cradle it as if I were suffering from the worst imaginable premenstrual cramps. I continue. My vision is now blurry as I open them to take in my surroundings. All the candles in the circle have burnt down to nothing except for mine. I look down at my barely lit candle as I finish the last sentence. With the last word spoken, the pain searing through my body is just too much. I can feel myself falling and have no way of stopping myself. I drop to the hard, cold ground below me with such force that it jars my neck. That is going to be painful in the morning. The pain is an inferno, and no matter how much I try to calm it down, it won’t. My fire power has full control and I am the back-seat passenger at this stage. I can do nothing. My eyes are heavy and wet. Have I been crying? I don’t ‘do’ crying, but this feels so bad I wouldn’t be shocked if I have been. As I feel darkness take a hold, a bright, opalescent light forms in front of me. A silhouette of vivid whites and purples appears, but I can’t quite make out who or what it is. My eyes are failing me.
“Lailah?” I question before my eyes force me into the all too familiar darkness.
Chapter 10
Blaine
Lailah knows I’m here even though she hasn’t once looked my way.
I know this because she’s been blowing telepathic raspberries at me for the past thirty seconds. For someone who has been shoved into what is basically a postbag and dragged to hell, she is handling it pretty well. Mentally she is about as strong as they come; physically it’s an entirely different matter.
The Lailah that stands before me is far removed from the one that I am used to seeing. Gone is the pristine appearance from before, and in its place is an angel that is crumpled, creased, and chafed. Her limbs are a mass of bruises and abrasions from her time being bounced about in the harsh material of the sack. She probably didn’t help herself much by fighting Darius for the entirety of her journey here.
“Miss Lailah. You’re looking ravishing as ever.”
Lailah snorts at The Satan and rolls her eyes. I grimace internally as I know that this meeting will not end well. Nobody gives him attitude without some consequence for their actions. I’m holding onto a sliver of hope that it may end differently in this instance as she is an angel, but I highly doubt that the boss is bothered about angering God at all. Since he fell from Heaven he has become infinitely more wayward. It’s almost like he has forgotten who gave him all he has.
“What the hell am I doing here, Walter? You should know that God won’t be happy when he realises that you have me here. You don’t touch his staff. We’re out of bounds to you.”
There’s the snark I’m used to! No one can dispute that, for a heavenly subject, Lailah has more fire in her belly than Hell could handle. I hear a chuckle from The Satan and tittering from Darius and Sadie.
“Whilst I love your candour, little one, I would prefer it if you didn’t use my name. I am The Satan after all. Call me by my title when you address me. I did earn it.”
“But did you? Did you really? If I remember correctly, Hell was happy with its leader until he displeased God. You were lucky to get this position. I’d hardly say you earned it. You were damned lucky to be chosen to head the second falling. The only reason you’re here is because it was handed to you. Well, that and the fact that you had a good army who fought the bloody battles, took the losses, and won the war. All you had to do was swan in and make the order to lock him up. So at what point exactly did you earn all of this, pray tell?”
The Satan looks momentarily stunned at Lailah’s outburst. His face begins to contort into what seems like a million different expressions from absolute glee at her feistiness to complete and utter rage that she is blatantly trying to humiliate him. When he gets to this particular mask, he grabs her by her rumpled collar and drags her until she is inches from his wrath-filled face.
“You need to wind your neck in, sweetheart. Don’t ever doubt the power I have to crush you. All my gifts may come from other places, but what you so easily seem to forget is that I have the position of The Satan, and I will do everything to make sure that things stay that way. One little angel won’t change these things. You are here for one reason and one reason alone. It seems we have a spy in our midst and we need to eliminate the risk of our plans being taken to the outside world. Not that there is anything to tell right now, but prevention is better than cure.”
At the mention of a spy, Lailah’s already pale skin whitens further and the word “Shit!” ricochets around my head. She is shaken by this development, but reacts in a way that I am not expecting. Leaning back as far as she can go, Lailah spits in The Satan’s face.
For a second, my boss looks stunned. Sadie and Darius’ faces are frozen in shock, and I am full of admiration for her when she whispers in my head that I’ll thank her for this later.
Then all hell breaks loose.
Grasping Lailah by the jaw, The Satan claws the edges of her face then throws her into Sadie and Darius with brutal force. The two quickly join her on the floor as they topple like skittles. He follows her at speed, knocking me to one side in the process, and descends upon her with fury. Seeing his approach, Lailah scrambles to gain her footing, desperately trying to get some distance between them. Upon steadying herself, she unfurls her dove-grey wings and begins to rise. Sadly, the devil is fleet of foot. As she breaks for freedom, he grabs her ankle and slams her to the ground face first. Spitting grit, Lailah struggles to free herself. She looks like she may just manage it too, except for the fact that The Satan proceeds to place a knee either side of her thus pinning her front and wings to the floor. Then he grabs those be
autiful wings at the base and begins to rip them from her body. The sound of tearing flesh fills the air and for the first time ever I hear the sound of an angel scream. It is a piercing, haunting sound, that’s amplified for me as it echoes through my mind. She is throwing out agony in all directions, and The Satan and all his minions are absorbing the energy as it thrums into our surroundings. I can see the waves as they distort the vista in ebbs and flows. All around shudder in ecstasy as it hits them, their collective eyes burning with a new found fire.
Casting the wings aside, the devil lowers himself across the wounded angel’s back and presses his nose into her neck in an almost tender gesture. He nuzzles her neck and wraps his arms beneath her, all the while rubbing his front against her ravaged skin. On each pass he shudders, revelling in the bloody mess painting his chest and seeming to derive some sick sexual pleasure from the sensation. Her plaintiff wail gives way to agonised moans as The Satan begins to grind her into the muddy ground. He grins in satisfaction at her apparent change of mood and begins to turn her body. She goes slack, submitting willingly to the silent command.
The sight of Lailah’s face as she is turned over would haunt me for eternity if I wasn’t soulless. It is darkened by the mud except for the breaks in colour where her tears have fallen. Red eyes brimming, she appears to be looking everywhere but at me. The Satan is still sat astride her, but is now cupping her face in his hands and staring into those windows. I’m sure that if I was in the same position, all I would be able to make out is a clear case of broken.
“What’s the matter, little Lailah? Nothing to say? Where are your caustic words now? Where is your God when you’re in your hour of need?”
Lailah visibly flinches and her eyes widen momentarily. She looks tiny and terrified beneath the massive hulk of the creature she previously referred to as ‘Walter’. As an aside, I am still mentally creasing up at that revelation, even though the circumstances are completely inappropriate. However, my glee is short-lived.
“Oh, you weren’t expecting that, were you? You’re coming through loud and clear, darling. I can hear you calling him you know. Hear you begging for his intervention. Maybe it’s because you are wing-bare, or maybe I’ve actually broken you. Either way it’s a great thing for me, because now I can hear every little thought that is bouncing round that gorgeous little head of yours.
Shit! This will be the point where my secret gets out. This is when I’ll be exposed and fuck only knows what will happen to me. I don’t even want to begin to think about all of the possible consequences for me if I’m found out.
I try to act casual, allowing my gaze to stray to my battered colleague. She remains silent and doesn’t even glance in my direction. A look of supreme concentration comes across her face. I can only guess at what she’s doing. Whatever it is, The Satan begins to look increasingly annoyed. For every degree of anger that sets in to his now rigid body, the more a serene smile begins to spread across her face. Her eyes are blank. Her lips are a picture. It is then that The Satan explodes.
“You dare to shut me out, girl? Let me the fuck back in or I’ll tear you limb from limb. You will be dust. Your body is already damaged. Your angel powers won’t help you now.”
“They may. They may not. But I still have my willpower and a whole heap of hope. I may be beaten, but I’m not as broken as you think, Walter.”
She gives him a shit-eating grin, as he digs his claws into her cheeks and drags down hard. The gouges weep with brilliant light as they open up her face. The Satan jumps to his feet and continues digging his trenches until he reaches her stomach. He glares down at her then kicks her into the blood-soaked earth at the edge of the Styx.
“Take her away to the cells. I’ll get what I need from her later. She will break, and when she does I WILL get that name. Sadie, you and Darius work on her at alternate intervals. See if you can get anything from her.”
The pair stands frozen, gawping at our boss as if he’s grown another head (which I suppose he could, if he chose to). I can only guess that, maybe, he has slipped in their estimation, as he has just been sassed by an angel with no wings and, therefore, limited power. Not only that, it happened in front of an entire field full of his subjects, along with those of his biggest enemy.
“Is there a fucking problem? Get her the fuck out of my sight NOW! We will never speak of this incident again! Anyone heard doing so will be turned into a goddam angel and sent to Heaven.”
Yep, that would do it.
Everyone begins to move at hyper-speed, clamouring to fulfil The Satan’s order. The fighting recommences and the carrion begin to swirl above the falling bodies. Darius and Sadie grab Lailah and march her off in the direction of the cells before she can do any more damage. The Satan huffs a sigh and heads back to his box, grabbing my arm and dragging me behind him as he goes.
***
The silence is crippling.
I’ve been sitting at the feet of our lord and master for an indeterminate amount of time, yet still he says nothing. Despite trying, I have been unable to read him, although nobody has ever been able to. It’s probably just as well, as I couldn’t even imagine what goes through that depraved mind of his.
At this moment, he’s running his fingers through my hair like I am his own personal stress toy. I don’t like it, but it’s a small price to pay considering the other option. His rage is not something I want to be on the receiving end of.
I’m not sure how much more I can tolerate this, but I know I have no choice. What I want is to be back in the comfort of my office so I can think about my next move. Whilst The Satan maintains bodily contact with me, I am at a risk of exposing myself. I have had to empty those parts of my mind that could get me in endless amounts of trouble. I need distance, but for the meantime I must remain here until told otherwise.
A door creaks somewhere off to the right, and the boss tenses. A minor daemon whose name is unknown to me scuttles into the room and approaches the throne as if summoned. Except he hasn’t been, and he seems completely unaware of his faux pas as he bows deeply and begins to reel off his report in possibly the whiniest tone I have ever heard.
“Master. I come bearing news. Good news. Double good news, if you will. It seems that the angel Lailah may be starting to break under the ministrations of Sadie and Darius. It has taken both of them working together, but progress is being made. On another note, it seems there has been a retreat on the part of the enemy for the time being. We’re unsure why. It could be that they are re-grouping to plan a much larger attack, although it is believed that they have actually diminished considerably in numbers over the past three battles.”
The daemon takes a steadying breath and opens his mouth to continue. In response, The Satan raises a single finger to quiet him. Removing his hand from my hair, he raises both and claps them in a movement so swift that was it not for the resulting shockwave we would all have missed it. The blast shatters the windows of the viewing box along with the sound desk and microphone that was installed there for his gaming pleasure. At least half of the daemons that infest the court of The Satan have been blown from the building, whilst the others look on nervously. Seeing our boss raise his hands to clap again, they scatter through the ruins to escape the next wave of destruction. His hands meet, and this time the sound released is a boom that echoes then fades to silence.
The messenger gulps loudly. I look on, wondering what his fate will be. The Satan was already in a diabolical mood. The news on Lailah will have pushed him further. He doesn’t want to hear that she’s likely to crack; he wants to know that she already has. I’m expecting him to fry this guy, except he doesn’t do that. Instead, he issues an instruction to the messenger that leaves me cold.
“You go back and tell them to stop now. Tell them I’ll be there to sort her myself once I’m rested. Frankly, this shit is giving me a headache. She’s only one fucking angel. I did most of the tough work for them. It seems to me that if you want a job done properly you have to do it your
self. Now GO! Get out of my damn sight before I make you regret your decision to enter this room and speak before being summoned. I’M The Satan dammit! Is it that difficult to follow the rules down here?”
On this rhetorical question, the daemon bids a hasty exit. The Satan snorts loudly and vanishes in a cloud of red-black smoke. Apparently, cheap sideshow magic tricks are the colour of the season. Unsurprisingly, he wears them well.
Realising that my time is now limited, I pull myself together and escape from the wreckage of the building. I must find Lailah before the boss emerges from his pit. If I don’t, I am a dead daemon.
Chapter 11
Cadence
I stir from the darkness, droplets hitting my face and sending a chill through me. I slowly pry my eyes open to see what has awoken me from my heavy slumber, to the patter of rainfall. Not only that but it is no longer nightfall. At a guess I’d say it’s close to sunrise from the vivid colours beginning to peer through the night sky.
I push myself up from the now sodden ground, the effects of last night’s magic becoming apparent. The place that held each candle has now become small individual craters, plumes of tiny smoke swirling up with each raindrop falling on them. There is no evidence of the candles or melted, waxy substance to be seen. The once flourishing grass surrounding the small opening is now singed black, with barely a sprout of greenery left. The poor surrounding trees resemble a massacre from an unforgiving bush fire. Bare. Burned. Dead. How this could happen whilst I remain unscathed is a puzzle to me. It will be one I’ll get to the root of (if you’d pardon the pun!)
I stumble to my feet, trying to brace myself against the pain still pulsing through me. I ache in places I didn’t think was possible. The burning deep within me is still raging, twisting my insides like a vicious child inflicting the worst kind of ‘Chinese burn’. I feel dreadful. Just the thought of walking back through the woods to my car, requires energy I don’t have. I drag my worn and weary body over to a large mossy rockery. It’s wet from the rainfall, but I don’t care. I need a place to sit and regain some energy.