Deceased Dora

by Claire Chilton

  She jumped when deep thunder echoed through the room and glanced up to see violent winds rip apart the inside of the chapel. Streaks of lighting shot around the small group of people huddled on the pulpit, making them scream and jerk in terror. Wailing pleas for God to help could be heard over the howling wind while the hurricane twisted its way up the church, about to engulf them.

  Josie gasped at several loud stomps. The church shook violently before everything disappeared. The snakes vanished, the wind died down, the lightning stopped and the fire faded into nothing.

  “Shit!” Dora cried as she walked back into her room and saw her carpet burning. She repeatedly stamped on the fire until the last ember turned to black ash.

  “Crap,” she said.

  Dad’s going to go ballistic over this.

  Dora sighed at the useless summoning circle, which was now a curled up, burnt mess. She threw herself onto her bed and lay on her stomach, staring at the black screen of her pink television. She pulled the remote control from beneath the mattress and pressed the power button on it. Her TV was only allowed one network—her father’s. She wasn’t allowed to watch anything else. Thank Beelzebub her parents weren’t net savvy, or she would be living in a religious bubble.

  Since it was her bedtime, she knew the stupid show would be over soon. Sometimes the old black and white movies they showed late at night weren’t too bad. Doris Day kicked ass in Calamity Jane.

  The television flickered into life, and her dad’s show appeared on the screen. People were wailing, crying and praising the Lord.

  Aww shit, they didn’t do another one of those miracle cures shows, did they?

  Dora’s eyes widened as Molly Carmichael, the prim librarian from the main library, wandered in front of the camera mumbling incoherently. Molly turned her back to the camera and bowed to the pulpit. Dora's eyes widened more when she saw what she could only describe as effervescent shit stains decorating the back of Molly’s pink tweed skirt. She watched Molly wander off camera, still mumbling random words like, ‘snakes’ and ‘demons’ as she disappeared from view.

  For the first time ever, Dora found herself glued to her dad’s show.

  I can’t believe I missed this.

  Her father finally came on screen as he pulled himself up off the floor. He clawed at the podium and dragged himself up, so his head appeared over it. He was shaking all over and had a few small cuts and gashes on his face. His hair looked like an oversized white afro hovering around his head. The priest’s collar of his vestments hung limply down his neck in a white line.

  “Dah …” He tried to speak, but his voice was so hoarse he only managed a sound. He was breathing hard. Judging by the murderous look in his eyes, Dora knew whatever he was about to say was not going to be good.

  “Dohh …” He managed before taking a deep breath. He stared down at the podium for a moment in silent fury.

  He eventually looked straight up into the camera. The moans and wails of parishioners were echoing behind him, through the microphone. “D-Do-Dora, I’m going to kill you!” Her father gasped into the camera before he passed out on the podium and slid to the floor.

  Dora blinked at the screen.

  Shit, what am I getting blamed for now?

  GO TO CHAPTER THREE

  Kieron Lascher stopped chasing turquoise snakes when a burst of light exploded in the darkness a few feet away from him. He frowned and walked over to it. It was a hole ripped through the ether, a jagged tear of light in his dark and dismal world.

  He reached out his hand and touched the shimmering light. It was warm and sticky. He pulled his hand back and glanced around him. There was no one around. Even the twittering hell spawn were up to no good elsewhere today. It wasn’t surprising since it was only a couple of weeks until Judgment Day. Everyone was cramming for the finals.

  Kieron knew he should be studying too. His father would eviscerate him if he failed this time. He had been revising all morning, trying to catch a snake for an experiment, but he had just ended up with several bites off the bloody things.

  He tried not to let it bother him, but he was a failure at being evil. Nothing ever worked out. He got the formulas right, but it just never turned out evil enough. If he failed his test this year, he would be expelled from Hell. Everyone knew what that meant. A fate worse than colonic irrigation—he would be exiled to Earth.

  He had never been to Earth. He’d been born in Hell, but he’d seen it through the various portals. He shuddered at the thought of it. He’d seen the monotonous work humans had to do; filing, spreadsheets … homework! Humans were sorry creatures; they followed dreams of things they’d never have, and they were powerless in the world they lived in. He couldn’t imagine anything worse. No, he had to pass the test this year—being exiled to Earth was not an option.

  He tilted his head while he studied the tear of light. After a few minutes of contemplation, he decided the best plan was to fix it. It was dangerous leaving a gaping hole in the ether lying around like this. Someone might fall into it and hurt themselves.

  He ran his fingers over the edges and encountered the warm sticky feeling again.

  What kind of tear is it?

  It pulsed as if it were alive. He’d never seen a portal like it, but there were a lot of lunatic demons practicing spells at this time of year. It was obviously a mistake because no talented warlock would create something so messy.

  The wind howled around him in harsh, warm gusts. He glanced back and stared at the desolate horizon.

  Are the volcanoes playing up again?

  A vice-like grip clamped onto his wrist, which was still hovering over the tear in reality. He yelped when it tugged on his arm. The tear growled as it became a vortex, sucking things into it with howling winds and a terrifying force. Snakes and shrubbery shot past him as the growing hole consumed them. The ground shifted toward the portal, and the red sands of the barren landscape swirled around him. He attempted to scream but could only cough as the sand blew into his mouth.

  He pulled back against the vacuum, trying to free himself from the portal, but the force was too powerful. He finally managed to cry out for help, but the sound was lost in the din. Using every muscle in his body, he tried to detach from the pulsing gash in reality. The power of the suction increased, lifting him off the ground before the portal pulled him into another realm.

  Kieron squeezed his eyes shut as a blinding light flashed around him. His stomach leapt into his throat. The force of the pull flattened his cheeks to his skull. Every nerve in his body screamed in protest as gravity crushed it. He warily opened one eye, just in time to see the tear become a distant shadow. Flashes of bright lights sped past him. He crashed into something soft and expelled a shocked yelp of pain. Everything went dark as the portal closed.

  He fought to suppress the urge to throw up while using his hands to search around in the dark. He could feel cloth draping over him and sharp painful blocks underneath him. He blindly explored his surroundings with his hands. The space was confined. He could feel the walls around him by simply stretching out his arms. He tried to control a bubble of panic when the thought of all those snakes being in here with him filled his mind.

  His hand hit something on a string, a pendulum of some kind. He felt around for it in the darkness. It was wildly swinging around, but he caught it in his grasp on the third try. The heavy, metal object was hanging from twine. He tugged it to see if it would hold his weight. A bright light burst into the small room, and he found himself looking up the inside of a girl’s dress. It would have been a pleasant experience had there been a girl inside the dress, but alas the dress was empty.

  Something sharp dug into his backside, so he rooted around with his hands to pull the object out from beneath him. He stared at the shiny ruby slipper in his hand. The three-inch heel and pointed toe on the shoe answered some questions for him.

  I’m in a witch’s closet!

  Kieron pushed the clothes out of the way and got to his feet,
ripping half of the dresses off their hangers in the process. He surveyed the inside of the closet before turning to face the slatted door. He inhaled a sharp breath when he stared through the gaps in the door and saw the witch.

  She lay on a pink bed at the center of the room with her ebony hair twisted up in knots. Her blood-red lips pouted seductively at something she was watching. She was appealing to look at. Her long legs idly swung in the air behind her. She wore a pair of tiny red shorts and some kind of white tunic that had no sleeves. She was the first witch Kieron had ever seen, but his father had told him about them. They were all sexy little minxes with nasty tricks up their sleeves. He remembered seduction was their greatest trick, but he wasn’t worried. He was pretty smooth with the ladies. He’d had the best tutors—succubae.

  Kieron became aware of his own body swaying while he watched her legs swing back and forth behind her.

  Hypnosis!

  He realised and quickly averted his eyes up to the top of the closet, trying to calm his racing pulse. He refused to look at the witch and stared upwards. Piled on the shelf at the top of the closet were boxes and boxes of mysterious witch items. He tilted his head, trying to read the labels before reaching up to pull down the top box on the pile. It was red and white, the colors of blood and life.

  It must be one of her darkest secrets.

  It was labeled with one thick black word. He tried to pronounce the word in his mind. Mono-Polly. He didn’t know this language, but it must be immensely powerful to have such colors on it. He took a deep breath and opened the box while his heart hammered.

  Inside was an odd-looking ritual board.

  What kind of casting can you do with this?

  It had places on it with haunting names like ‘Marylebone Station’ and ‘The Strand’. There were strange tarot cards called ‘Chance’ and ‘Community Chest’. He recognized small silver ritual symbols of pagan items like the iron and the boot, but they were mixed in with symbols he hadn’t seen before. He gasped when he picked up the small icon of a dog, dropping the box in shock.

  What kind of monster is this witch? She’d cast upon a helpless hound.

  He nearly screamed when he looked through the slats in the door and saw her staring straight at him. She sat up on the bed and began making her way over to the closet. He inwardly cursed himself for making such a racket when he dropped the box.

  He found his eyes drawn to her ample bosom when she stood up.

  Think clean thoughts, think clean thoughts, he told himself. This minx will not turn me into her demon slave, no matter how bouncy they look. Er, she looks.

  He froze, overcome with a feeling of helplessness when she walked toward the door, reaching for the handle.

  Her chamber door burst open, and a deranged holy man with wild white hair stormed into the room. He carried a crucifix in one hand and a bag of salt in the other.

  Kieron involuntarily hissed as the witch spun around to face the man.

  He instinctively glanced down, his eyes drawn to her ass.

  “BACK DEMON!” Dora forgot about the noise in her closet as she spun around to face her father. He held a crucifix in front of him and appeared slightly crazed. His vestments were ripped and dirty, his hair was sticking out in a wild afro, and the insane gleam in his eyes could only mean one thing—exorcism time.

  Dora backed away from him to the center of the room. “Dad, come on. Whatever I did, I didn’t mean it,” she said, holding her hands up in an attempt to placate him.

  “SILENCE DEMON!” He bellowed before waving his cross at her.

  “Oh, for fuc—ahhh …” Dora yawned in mid-argument.

  Screw it, I can’t be bothered. Just entertain his insanity, and you’ll get to bed faster.

  She obediently stood in the center of the room while watching her father pour a circle of salt onto the floor around her. He shouted scripture at her, causing her to yawn again. Through bleary eyes, she studied him as he rushed to the wall and began nailing crosses to it around the doorframe. Sweat poured down his red face while he hammered the last cross into the wall.

  He turned toward her, his knuckles turning white as he tightly gripped the bag of salt. “This will hold you, demon. Tomorrow you shall be sent back to Hell.”

  “Okay, Dad.” Dora rubbed her eyes with her fists, hoping he would bugger off soon, so she could go back to bed.

  Her father lined the window ledge with salt, then the doorway before carefully stepping over it and leaving the room. “You’ll burn for your sins.” He told her before he closed the door.

  “Okie dokie.” She agreed as the door slammed shut. She shook her head at the insanity of her life.

  Just before she stepped out of the circle, the door to her closet burst open. An attractive blond-haired boy with bright blue eyes fell through the door. He wore a swashbuckler’s shirt and tight leather pants. “Don’t worry, Minx-witch. I shall save you!” he cried.

  Dora gasped and swung her fist out at the strange boy. Her fist made a solid connection with his jaw and sent him flipping over face first onto the floor. She looked down at his unconscious body and sighed. “Okay, if you must.” She had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

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  The third book is coming soon

  Heaven just turned out to be worse than Hell!…

  After being killed, Dora Carridine was shipped off to Heaven, but she’s not ready to give up her life just yet, especially not when it means spending eternity in Angel boot camp.

  She does everything in her power to try to get home, but nothing works. Even if she manages to escape Camp Angel and survive the sadistic drill sergeant, she still doesn’t know how to get her body back.

  Powerless and alone, she decides that there is only one thing she can do. Dora has to find God and hope he’s not a sanctimonious dick.

  COMING SOON

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  Read the prequel to

  THE DEMON DIARIES

  She's looking for a hint of magic in her world...…

  Dora Carridine is fed up with her life as a preacher’s daughter and sets out to explore the darker side of life instead. If she could just find some magic in the world, then maybe she will find a place she belongs.

  When she comes across a coven of witches, she takes on their trials to try and join them. But the witches aren’t all they appear to be, and Dora finds herself slipping into a darker world than she imagined.

  She has to make a choice to do the right thing, but Dora’s never been very good at doing anything right…

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  Read Kieron's Origins Story

  He's just failed at being evil…

  Kieron Lascher thought his life as a minor demon lord in Hell couldn't get any worse, but when he fails his exams and is sent into another realm as punishment by his parents, he realises that there are worse places than Hell.

  With deadly beasts and evil Satan Claws roaming the frosty land, Kieron has to fight to survive. With the help of a banished succubus, he learns that he needs to find the missing codex to gain some power.

  If he manages to take out Satan Claws and learn pure evil, he might be able to open a portal and go back home. But first, he has to master being truly evil to some cute little elves. That won't be difficult for a demon lord, right?

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  Thank you for reading Deceased Dora. I hope you enjoyed it.

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  Thanks for reading my stories, and I hope this book made you smile.

  Lots of love

  A prolific writer with wide-ranging interests, Claire Chilton specialises in new adult fiction and speculative fiction, which includes genres such as science fiction, fantasy, paranormal, comedy and romance. Hustle, her Harlequin debut, won the publisher’s So You Think You Can Write contest on Wattpad. Her previous books include a humorous young adult science-fiction series called The Squishies Series and a paranormal comedy series, The Demon Diaries.

  Claire Chilton is a web designer with an honours degree in English Literature and a passion for great stories. She’s done just about every job on the planet at least once, and she’s won an award for being ‘the most likely to trip over the red carpet and flash her arse at the cameras’.

  After exploring the world in her misspent youth, travelling across Europe, Africa, and the Caribbean, she now lives in an ancient Roman city in Yorkshire with her Californian fiancé and a fluffy kitten called Shadow, who is convinced she is a bigger cat than she is.

  You can find Claire online at claire-chilton.com.

  www.claire-chilton.co.uk

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