by Drue M Scott
“I would never dare make the assumption that I knew anything, especially what you deem worthy or unworthy of your time, but I take orders really well.” Jacob knew he needed to only survive the moment and find a way to manipulate the situation to his benefit. Devin, Brennan, or the gods themselves would never know the depth of his darkness. Even he didn’t know how deep his depravity ran, but living was all that matter in that moment.
“Are we certain of this fact? You failed Devin once before, why would you think you wouldn’t again?” Brennan’s words shook Mikale to his core. He was different. A sickly distorted darkness oozed its presence into how he spoke. “I see the mortal one over there understands what’s happening now, why is it that you do not?”
“Devin?” Jacob queried. “I knew you’d be back. You always said that you were perpetual. That your hate would last forever.” Twisting his seated position to look directly into Brennan’s eyes, he could see his teacher was present. “I’ve missed you, and I am sorry I failed you. It will not happen again.” The cower in his posture appeared weak, much the same as he had frequently acted in Devin’s presence. He knew that begging at Devin’s feet as an abused puppy would gain him some type advantage. He was prepared to leap at any chance presented in order to save his own ass.
“This pleases me.” Brennan paused a moment placing a finger to his lips quizzically. “There could yet be some use for you I imagine.” His eyes flickered red.
Jacob’s expression of happy confusion distorted his face. He wasn’t sure if Devin/Brennan knew he would say just about anything to not be murdered, but nervous relief settled upon him with the knowledge he would not die at this very moment. He had weaseled his way into at least another hour of life.
“Good enough, I suppose. I will find a use for you, and if you do not please me, then I will simply add your energy to my own. The very second I doubt your loyalty, I will kill your physical form and absorb your soul in the most torturous way possible.” A sour smile crossed Brennan’s lips as if to hide the fact he wanted to show his real emotions. “I don’t do well with betrayal.” Throwing a harsh stare towards Mikale, his fake smile disappeared. Lifting the unseen force on the remaining occupants of the room, Brennan shifted Jacob and himself so that they stood at the doorway. The three men were very near one another, and the sheer proximity lent a palpable unease to the air. Mikale could not remove his eyes from Brennan’s face. Brennan gazed quizzically at the lower region of his new servant’s body. Jacob stood dumbfounded.
Breaking the uncomfortable moment with commanding words, Brennan lifted his head and arm in unison. Setting his hand to the naked man’s back and his eyes directly upon Mikale, he spoke to Jacob with a forceful push to the bare skin of his shoulder. “I’ve a special task for you, but that will have to wait for now. Clothe your body and wait outside.”
Respectfully, Jacob nodded and moved away rapidly, sensing that he had won his life from the jaws of certain death, again. Stepping in closer to Mikale, Brennan smiled; it was his friendly smile that had always disarmed Mikale. Something changed, again. Brennan’s face hinted at a struggle that was feverishly erupting in his mind. Maintaining an uninterrupted connection through their eyes, a hint of kindness eased the once uncomfortable atmosphere. The more menacing features Brennan had adopted since Kyna’s death could not completely hide the caring man that Mikale considered his friend. Taking notice of the dual shade hue of Brennan’s eyes, Mikale moved inward attempting to piece words together that did not completely give away Stewart’s absence. His heart’s intent though was decidedly upon discovering if his truest love was present within Brennan.
“So Ken IS still there?” The tears he had been successfully fighting took control. Each one that raced down his face softened Brennan’s expressions. “Please. Please tell me, is he still there?”
“What would it matter, old friend? Do you honestly believe knowing that he was trapped with Devin somewhere inside my rapidly shifting energy would make you feel better? Would my telling you that the struggles between them rages on endlessly offer you some resolve? If there were a way that energy could inflict the harshest of pains your feeble mind could ever create; that would only be a tenth of the suffering Jason, your dearest Ken, would be experiencing at the behest of Devin. I should know,” Brennan could plainly see his words hurt. “Shall I explain for you more thoroughly how much agony and unrest your dearest love is feeling? Would you have me damage your soul more than I already have?” His final words conveyed remorse; an emotion Mikale hadn’t seen or heard from him in a long while.
“Brennan,” Mikale, choked up, swallowed hard and wiped his eyes. “Don’t let him suffer for the wrong doings of others. You are powerful enough to let him go. You are strong enough to save him that pain. You are…” Mikale started weeping more heavily as he leaned in to Brennan placing a hand upon his former soul-guest’s shoulder. “You are a good man. I know that you are a good man. Please save him.” Trying not to completely break down, Mikale took a deep breath. “Please.”
Returning the welcoming gesture, Brennan lifted his hands to Mikale. Pulling him gently to his chest, he cradled the crying man’s head to his heart. A single tear managed to escape his blue eye. The two stood in an affectionate embrace unaware that Haley was regaining consciousness.
Her eyes still heavy and her movements slow, she appeared as a marionette might under the command of a puppeteer. Unable to speak, she gazed as intently as her watery eyes and foggy senses would permit. To her, the two men before her appeared as though they cradled one another.
“I’ve missed you,” Mikale broke away from his tears briefly, “I’ve needed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” Brennan lifted his friend's head, so they could look into each other’s eyes again. “I am changing.” His face softened further. “The goodness of Jason helps to slow the change.” There was a hint of desperation and confusion in his words. Unable to piece together a sentence that would make sense, he transferred over the smallest amount of life-energy; enough that Mikale might better understand the growing hate and confusion that seemed to have no end in sight. Mikale’s whole body shook violently for a brief moment before he fell back into Brennan’s embrace.
Stumbling from the bed, Haley snatched up what clothes she could easily find and fumbled her way through putting them on. With each movement, her composure grew stronger; she was steadily becoming more aware. Edging closer to the embraced men blocking her only exit from the room, a flash sparked up from her eyes. Mikale caught a glimpse of it just as she wrapped her arms firmly around Brennan; a gesture that pushed Mikale free of his friend’s hug.
“Grab him. NOW!”
“Stewart!” Brennan spoke as he completely vanished, reappearing behind Mikale.
“Stewart?” Mikale’s befuddlement puzzled Brennan. “Wait.” He quickly screamed turning around to face his friend. “Brennan, please.”
Wrapping his arms tightly around his former host and leaning close to his ear, Brennan whispered. “Save me.”
The words burned Mikale’s eardrum in a firestorm of unanswered questions. Was his love calling out to him? Was Brennan? Quicker than he could articulate a response, the weighted form of his comrade, the man who housed his most hated enemy and his darling Ken inside, vanished. A small ripple of light faded away in front of him. Dropping straight to his knees, his heart sank in time with his body. The world he knew crashed in unison with his heavy landing to the floor. Though his tears had ceased to run the length of his face, he had never felt more like exploding into a million unhindered drops of liquid sorrow than at that very moment. Uncertainty and fear flooded him. The rest of the universe had joined in to weigh heavily upon his heart. He knew he could not bear it.
“Mikale?” The voice of Haley speaking words from Stewart broke the silence. With her hand moving to his shoulder, Stewart tried touching Mikale’s soul with his life-force. Completely blocked off, Mikale quickly rose to his feet again.
“That was stupi
d!” His words cut at Stewart’s feelings. “He was talking to me, really talking to me. And you… You…” Dropping off suddenly, Mikale lowered his face and peered intently at the floor. Overpowered by emotions and confusion, he could not look at Haley knowing Stewart was looking out through her eyes. He wanted to scream and curse and physically inflict the pain he felt, but the woman’s body that played host to Stewart did not deserve such anger inflicted upon it.
“I fucked up.” Stewart spoke with regretful softness, but he knew his words held no meaning in the moment. There was nothing he could do to change what had just happened. Remorse and a twinge of anger filled his being. “What did he say to you?”
Mikale, losing control, in a flash of anger lifted his head and moved in tight to Haley’s face, hoping that she was not fully present to hear the words he was shouting. “Ken is still there. His energy still lives in him. He is being tortured by Devin.” Without warning the explosion of tears finally broke free. “Save me. He said, ‘Save Me.’”
Stewart, through use of Haley’s body, reached out and grasped Mikale. Struggling, the two fell to the floor, Haley’s body landed on Mikale knocking the air from his lungs. Rage flew up through him, flaring as a fire when gas is poured onto it. Losing control Mikale’s vision tunneled as his heart raced; he could see only the fear and horror of his lover’s suffering, and he wanted to destroy it. Shifting his weight and overpowering Stewart’s weakened state within Haley, Mikale assumed a dominant position over them and raised his fist. Lowering it swiftly with full intention to beat the life from the ball of monstrous hate beneath him, his narrowed, sorrow-driven sight widened. Halting only an inch from crashing into Haley’s face, Mikale realized his anger was not truly caused by Stewart, and this poor woman did not deserve to physically suffer the fit of his aggression. He could never hit a woman, and his guilt at even threatening it suddenly distorted his face. Relinquishing his angst and giving in to his real sorrow, Mikale fell to Haley hugging her body as tightly as he could. He could feel Stewart’s love radiate from her and into him. His tears soaked her shirt. He wanted to have never heard Brennan’s words. Maybe it was better, not knowing Jason’s energy was still alive? The torture of knowing how much he suffered was unbearable for Mikale. Stewart could sense all the agony within his friend and longed for removing it, but in his current form—within the body of Haley—he could do nothing but hold him. Whispering to his mind, Stewart tried to find words that might help his friend.
“We will save him, both of them.”
Cautiously and somewhat awkwardly, the two lifted their bodies from the floor. Barely free of their embrace, a loud “pop” shattered the glass behind them and rang louder than thunder throughout the house. The whole world ceased to move forward in time, appearing as a photo, motionless. Though Stewart couldn’t see the details as crisply, looking through Haley’s eyes, he saw enough to pain him deeply. The entire room appeared hyper-real with over saturated colors that blended like an impressionist’s painting. The once blue color of Mikale’s eyes turned black from his swelling pupils.
Absolutely motionless for a moment in utter disbelief, Mikale struggled to understand why scorching pain radiated out from his chest. He could faintly make out Stewart’s confusion as he watched Haley scuffle in closer. Controlling her body was still awkward for Stewart. Slowly, Mikale looked at his own chest; his fear of what he knew to be inevitable was written plainly upon his pale face. Just to the right of his sternum, red ran thick spreading out from a hole in his shirt. Soaking downward, it expanded quickly to his waist. Placing his right hand over the small dark hole, he gazed up at Haley. His mind understood what had happened, but his belief that it had happened lagged behind. Swirling images of the first day Brennan and he had shared his body flashed in and out of focus. Memories of his dearest Ken making love to him were muted under his numbing senses. Blurring its way into focus, a single image of Jason, his perfect Ken-Doll boyfriend, smiling, sent a warm tingle throughout his entire body. Removing his blood-soaked hand from his chest; Mikale looked confusingly at it for a moment until the burden of remaining upright was too great. Stewart, trying to gain proficiency with his host’s body attempted to leap forward. Mikale knew by this action, he must have been falling.
“Mikale!” The shout was audible and telepathic. “No!” Echoing like a falling church bell plummeting down from a broken steeple, the single syllable word held pain and anger and fear.
With an airy sigh of weak breath, Mikale’s body fell limp into Haley’s arms. Stewart had strengthened her enough to catch him, but the sheer mass of his dead weight forced her to her knees. Turning him quickly onto his back, Stewart prayed to the universe that his friend’s eyes would yet be open, that life would still shine from them regardless of how dimly. His prayer was unanswered.
##
Brennan stood in dumbfounded shock. His temporary pardon of Jacob had resulted in something so unexpected, he felt as though emotions might actually take control. Assessing the situation as best he could through his rattled feelings, Brennan turned away from Jacob eager to see if Mikale might still be okay. From his vantage outside, he could easily see through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Mesmerized by the scene, he could hardly believe was taking place, Brennan let his emotions go. The tears he allowed to run freely, though, stung. The bitterness and evil stored up within him tainted everything.
“You seriously thought me to be that weak?” Jacob’s words nearly startled Brennan from his trance-like state. “Devin will take hold of you completely soon enough. I sure as hell don’t want to piss that guy off.” Jacob paused tilting his head to the side momentarily, “again.” Firing another round from his Glock 40, Jacob sneered. “Let’s see what happens now.”
The bullet entered Brennan with a searing pain that held familiarity and was completely different. He knew what it was like to be grievously injured, to have your life-force wane so quickly you couldn’t breathe. But that was knives and bare hands. The hollow-point bullet that shredded into him on impact felt cavernous in comparison; it opened a hole in him wider and deeper than any blade had ever inflicted. Every fiber of energy within him twitched. Three distinct screams rang out: one of pure terror, one of joyous rage, and one of excruciating pain. He understood Jason was horrified, he knew that Devin was excited, but what he struggled to believe was the sound coming from his vocal chords. It was a chorus of chaos giving song to every heartache he’d ever known, giving voice to every confusion he had ever felt, giving sound to every regretful transgression that he now assumed could never be rectified. All of them joined together in a singular sound that distorted the air and made his throat raw.
“You had to have known this would happen. I mean, honestly, what other outcome could there possibly be?”
Jacob’s words fell menacingly on Brennan’s ears. He knew that he heard them, but he could feel them, too. They were heavy and painful. The knowledge that he had so erroneously miscalculated the situation and brought about consequences, which felt insurmountable, tore at his soul. My Soul. The thought raced in his mind adding more confusion to his already discombobulated energy. His sighted faded to black. There would be no respite in Idir, though, not this time. He was aware that Jacob, at the behest of Devin, had other plans for his weakened and dying vessel. What that plan might be and what it would mean for his fledgling reconstituted soul, or for the soul of his guest Jason, he was unsure; undoubtedly, it would be malicious. This much he knew with absolute certainty.
Anam Cara (soul-friend)
Sitting motionless on his bed, Sergei gazed blankly at the wall. Various pictures with eclectic frames hung crooked, but his gaze bore through them. His room no longer felt like a space that was his own. The floor was cold and dark. The drapes, which he usually kept pulled allowing light to filter in through the window, were drawn. Though the door to his bedroom and bathroom were open, the space felt claustrophobic. Hours had passed, and barely a blink had broken his statue-like composure. He knew if he gave an inch
of himself to what Vevila had explained, it would undoubtedly take the whole of him. Complete silence had filled the room, his head, and his heart since laboring his way from the bathroom to the full-sized mattress, still unmade from the previous night. Movement felt impossible and the ability to refocus his sight was a task far too daunting. The room slowly came to life, breathing in time with each of his shallow breaths. Shock was taking hold. There were no words that he could use to describe what Vevila had shown him. His brain had revolted against the knowledge and completely shut down. Basic bodily functions still worked but even that felt like a mystery to him. This was the type of knowledge that would change him forever. There was no way to unlearn what she had imparted. Somewhere inside him, he knew it was the truth, but acceptance of that truth was a much harder pill to swallow.
“You need to let go,” Vevila spoke softly using the extremely limited amount of energy she still had to caress Sergei’s frazzled nerves. “Breathe deeply and slowly.”
“You just told me that there is no heaven or hell, no god or devil, souls can be broken, and some twisted fuck is trying to kill the world,” Sergei finally breaking free of his trance blasted back loud enough to startle himself, “and you want me to breathe slowly?” Sighing heavily, he stood up and peered across the room into the bathroom where he could make out his reflection. His legs wobbled under his weight. “Are you fucking crazy?”
“This is not helping matters,” Vevila, still maintaining as calm a voice within Sergei’s mind as possible, attempted to finish transferring knowledge to her host. The task was a serious drain on her already low life-energy, but the alternative was much worse. If she could not get Sergei to accept her presence within him, there was little chance she would be able to continue borrowing his energy to reconstitute her full self. In her vulnerable state, weakened and barely perceptible, she was able to find refuge within Sergei, but if she ever wanted to be more than a parasite, she would have to be willingly allowed to stay. The urgency she felt to get all she had learned over to Kyna and Stewart necessitated whatever the risks might be, and there were many. If Sergei was to reject the knowledge she imparted and forced his energy against hers, she would be expelled from him. If she could not stay and gain strength, her existence would be melded with the earth’s energy. She would lose her identity and become less than she already was. None of these scenarios took into account the risk of Sergei rebelling against her presence and simply absorbing her completely. She could be locked away within his conscience for hundreds of years before ever finding strength enough to convey thoughts or borrow power enough to become whole again. Despite the risks, Vevila knew the information she had was too valuable. She needed to connect with Kyna or Stewart. Unaware of all that had transpired after her life-force was shredded by Devin, Vevila’s hope still firmly lay in the knowledge that Kyna would know what to do. She hardly had strength enough to assert her will on Sergei, let alone address the imbalance that Devin was sure to cause. Her options were limited, but she needed to take action. There was no way she would be able to restore herself enough, without hurting Sergei, to shimmer back to Idir, but the possibility of gaining an adequate amount of strength to call out to Stewart was doable. He had been her mentor, and he would still feel her call if she could gain strength enough to make it. It held its own set of risks, but all were worth taking.