by Zel Spasov
“Lenny...?” Cayden asked, coughing.
“We couldn’t get his body out in time,” Charles replied.
As flames slowly engulfed the hospital, Cayden and Charles said farewell to “The Sloth,” who had sacrificed his life for them.
Cayden stared at the road in front of him, took a deep breath, and exhaled. The sun shone high in the sky. A few glowing clouds appeared above the horizon.
“It feels so good to finally be free!” Cayden said. “Thank you for everything, my friend. I hope that fate will lead us to meet us again someday. Make sure the patients don’t kill Persephone.”
“Where will you go?” he asked Cayden.
“I don’t know. But I can’t stay here. There are so many places to be and sights to see.” Cayden glanced at Charles. “Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible.”
He walked away in the direction of the storm. Charles followed him with his eyes until he disappeared. A large portion of the sky was now covered in clouds. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Lightning lit the dark sky. The grass on which Cayden had stepped began to wither and die.
Charles had noticed something strange in Cayden’s eyes when he looked at him. Maybe it was the way the light hit them, but he could swear his eyes had flashed red.
***
At another place, in a reality somewhat like our own, Agapea and Windhaven were restored. The sun shone in the sky again. Count Porcius got up from the ground and shook the dirt off his armor. There was no trace of Mira. The corruption of the Red Evil had also disappeared.
The battle was over. They had survived. A wave of relief washed over the count.
In Agapea, Charles ran toward the throne room. In front of it lay Monsieur Gèroux and King Fraud, both rubbing their heads. Charles entered the empty hall. There was no trace of the Red Evil. The only thing left was Cayden’s torn T-shirt, wrapped around Varvara's sword, which leaned against the empty throne.
Epilogue
I n the meadow, in front of the burning remains of the hospital, lay Miss Dimitriou. An orderly approached her and tried to wake her up.
“Doctor Dimitriou?” he asked. “Are you alive?”
She mumbled something and opened her eyes.
“Cayden.” The word broke off her lips like a piece of ice from an iceberg. “Where is he?”
“He escaped, along with the other patients,” the orderly answered in a fearful voice.
“I could’ve shot him,” Persephone said. “I had him, and I let him slip away.”
“Why?” asked the orderly.
“Aunt Penny,” she said.
The orderly looked at her with a confused expression, but Persephone remained silent. In her head, the memory of little Cayden running toward her was replaying. She remembered the feelings of joy and love she had experienced then. It had been a rare moment of pure happiness in her long life. It had also prevented her from finishing her task. Her failure could result in the deaths of hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions, of people.
She went back into the memory, completely isolating it from the surrounding world. There she was, on her knees, hugging little Cayden. He was squeezing her as hard as he could with his little arms. A tear appeared in her eye and rolled down her cheek. Finally, she let go of him and stood up.
“Come with me,” she told the boy.
“Where are we going, Aunt Penny?” asked Cayden.
“It’s a surprise,” said Persephone. The boy was ecstatic, jumping around out of joy.
Persephone took him to a small house on the grounds of the Starosta estate. It was, in fact, her home, or at least the place where she rested between her assignments. She really didn’t think of the place as a home—she felt most at ease when she was on the road. She walked into her bedroom and stood in front of a closet.
“What are we doing here, Aunt Penny?” asked Cayden.
“It’s your surprise,” she said. “It’s in there.”
Cayden looked inside the dark room with mistrust.
“Come on,” said Persephone. “You want to get your surprise, don’t you?”
Cayden looked up at her and nodded. He took a step toward the closet, and then another.
“Where is it?” he said once he was inside. “I don’t see anything!”
“Look harder,” said Persephone.
While Cayden was searching for his present, she grabbed the handle of the door.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I have to do this.”
“What, Aunt Penny?” asked Cayden. His eyes widened when saw her hands on the door handle. He stretched out his little hand toward her. She slammed the door shut before he could reach her.
“Aunt Penny!” came the muffled cries from inside. “Please, let me go! I’m sorry! I’ll be better, I promise!”
Fighting back tears, Persephone locked the door and ran outside of the house.
She had kept that memory inside of her as the last thing that tied her to humanity. Before the events at the hospital, she had secretly hoped that the feeling would not only remain, but grow, and that someday she would find peace. Now, everything was different. In order to prevent the biggest catastrophe facing the world from happening, she needed to rid herself of all compassion. The memory of her and little Cayden was locked away inside her, along with the rest of her skeletons.
She came back to herself. The man, who had been standing beside her, helped her get up on her feet. She shook the dirt off her clothes, straightened her hair, and adjusted her glasses. With the ruby in her possession once more, her powers were restored. The wrinkles in her face were gone. She looked like her old self.
“Cayden Starosta is now entirely possessed by the presence we know as the Red Evil,” she said to the man. “I saw it in his eyes when he attacked me in my office. He was overwhelmed by anger. The Evil tricked him.”
“Māra,” said the man. “The Evil is free.”
“What is this?!” a familiar voice came from behind Persephone. Angela Starosta had finally arrived. The timing couldn’t have been better. She stared at the scene with a mixture of shock and anger on her face. “Miss Dimitriou, do you have an explanation? I was told that everything was under control. What I didn’t expect to find when I came to visit my brother was a burning hospital. I have told you what the consequences of your failure would be—”
“Shut up,” said Persephone.
“What did you say to me?!”
“Stop talking.”
“Need I remind you of your place, Persephone? You work for the Starosta family, not the other way around!”
“Not anymore. I heard of your father’s condition. Cayden has turned into an enemy of the organization, and you… you are an incompetent, spoiled brat.” Persephone let the ruby’s powers flow through her, directing them at Angela. The Starosta woman froze. “I have worked for the Starosta family for generations and followed their orders, that is true. But the heads of the family have always shown me respect through the years and have all proven to be worthy leaders. You, on the other hand, are an embarrassment to your long line of predecessors. When I let you go, you’re going to resign as director of the association, leaving me in charge. The Starosta Foundation will continue to give us its full support while you keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told.”
Angela’s lips moved, trying to say something, but couldn’t. Persephone had her under control.
“The world’s facing a threat greater than anything you have ever seen. Cayden has been fully possessed by the Red Evil. We need everything we’ve got to stop It. I will not let you stand in the way of our victory.” Persephone paused again, letting all of this sink into Angela’s head.
The girl fought with the idea of submitting for a while, but finally, she gave up. Her will was weak and easily broken.
“Good. Now, you will go back where you came from and wait for my orders. From now on, the Starosta organization is under my command. Am I clear?”
Angela nodded.
Persephone tu
rned around and walked along the path of death and decay that Cayden had left behind, and where her heels passed, the dying grass froze. With the organization under her control, she had a chance to eradicate the Red Evil once and for all.
The tar clouds thundered on the horizon, fog enveloping the trees and wind making them writhe and contort. A single bolt of lightning struck, crashing into the earth beneath, exposing a huge and monstrous silhouette in the sky.
About the Author
Zel Spasov is a legal consultant working in finance, with a background in comedy writing, and is the author of Curse of the Red Evil. He has a JD degree in German law. If Mark Twain said that life is too short to learn German, Zel Spasov said that life is too short to learn German law. Instead, he decided it’d be easier to write a book. This is that book. He also has a website, www.zelspasov.com, where he occasionally posts about psychology, philosophy and all things he finds interesting.