by N. P. Martin
BLOOD DEMON (SORCERER’S CREED BOOK FOUR)
AN URBAN FANTASY NOVEL
N. P. Martin
MARTIN PUBLICATIONS
Copyright © 2017 by N.P. Martin
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Neal Martin
Visit my website at www.npmartin.com
Cover: Pavel Tomashevskii
To my dad and sister, for pulling through like champions.
We are doomed to all kinds of nonsense: the pain nonsense, the nightmare nonsense, the sweat and slave nonsense, and many other shapes and sizes of insufferable nonsense. It is brought to us on a plate, and we must eat it up or face the death nonsense.
Thomas Ligotti
Contents
Note To Reader
Prologue
1. Riding With The Devil
2. Unfriendly Welcomes
3. The Devil Made Me Do It
4. Locked Up
5. As The Crow Flies
6. Making Plans
7. Trouble Is Back
8. The Beast
9. Home Sweet Home
10. Secrets And Lies
11. Jennifer
12. Astro Corp
13. Ray
14. The Grope
15. Spitting Blood
16. A Little Appreciation
17. Three's A Crowd
18. Journey To The Realm Of The Dead
19. The Gray Lands
20. Shades Of Gray
21. Cloak And Dagger
22. Crystal Mountain
23. Back To Square One
24. Making A Break For It
25. The Draining Chamber
26. Room With A View
27. Family Reunion
28. Ultimatum
29. Goodbye
30. No Time
31. Battle Ready
32. Playing Fields
33. Stranglehold
34. Fucking Die You Cunt
35. Too Old For This Shit
36. When People Make Plans…
Thanks For Reading
The Watchers Series
Books By N. P. Martin
About The Author
Note To Reader
Dear Reader,
As you know from the last book, our hero Creed has been possessed by a demon. From my perspective as the writer, this situation presented some technical challenges when it came to formatting dialogue between Creed and the demon. To simplify matters, I chose to use normal formatting, even though the conversations are telepathic and not spoken aloud. So, unless otherwise stated, you can assume that all of the dialogue between Creed and the demon takes place telepathically.
Prologue
This is your first real foray onto the filthy streets of Earth since donning your new flesh suit. It’s been too long, you tell yourself, as you stroll down the street, taking in every detail of your surroundings: the lit buildings, the loud traffic noise, and even louder voices of the people that pass you by as if you were just another human. A few of those people even nod as if they know you, and you smile at them and nod back courteously as if you know them as well, ignoring the strange looks you get in return. It seems the meatpuppet you are occupying is well known in these parts. Good, you think. That should allow for more fun down the line. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To have fun? Hell, you’re on fucking vacation! Your domain in the Underworld can go fuck itself for the time being. Everybody needs a break, right?
You spot a strip club called Filthy Nasties, and decide to go inside and have some fun. You move through the crowd, occasionally nodding at people who nod at you, not all of them human. When you find a seat near the main stage, you sit down. A naked girl asks you what you’re drinking, and you tell her Long Island Ice Tea. Last time you visited Earth, you got a taste for Long Island Ice Teas. How long ago was that? You smile when you realize you are beginning to think like a human again. Where you’re from, there is no concept of time; just an endless now. It can get tedious, which is why you are here.
When the naked waitress arrives back with your drink, you smile and thank her, taking in the curves of her body as you do so. Ah yes, you think, the pleasures of the flesh. Your main reason for being here. You can hardly take your eyes off the girl, her ass jiggling enticingly as she moves away in high heels. The feel and taste of human flesh is exquisite, especially when one is occupying another human body, as you are now. But the smell you are not so keen on. Humans stink, as far as you are concerned. That’s all there is to it. It can take some getting used to. The first few times you broke through to Earth millennia ago, you couldn’t stop your human body from convulsively being sick over and over. You thought you were going to die, that something was badly wrong. Thankfully, you got used to the smell after a while. You can tolerate it now without wanting to vomit.
Another girl is dancing on stage, wrapping herself around a steel pole for the pleasure of all the men watching, her long dark hair almost touching the stage floor as she arches her back in a near impossible way, gripping the pole with only her muscled thighs. My, you think as you taste the Long Island Ice Tea, humans are a crude lot, but they sure know how to entertain each other.
As you watch the dancing girl, you begin to feel the cock of your meatsuit stir and come to life. A slight shiver runs through you, and you close your eyes for a second to enjoy it. There it is, you think. That singular feeling of sexual pleasure that only humans seem to experience so deeply. You’ve possessed the bodies of many a different creature in your time, but none seem to do sex in the way that humans do. Humans are built for sex. They are equipped to feel every nerve impulse. Which also makes them good at feeling pain, which to you is the same as pleasure…at least when you are giving it.
You sit drinking for a while, as you marvel at the skills of the dancers. Your cock is semi-erect as you anticipate the pleasure soon to come, tasting and feeling all that warm, pliable flesh once more. But first, a little exercise of power is in order, just to make sure everything works as it should. Not every human host is built to withstand the pressures of channeling your power through their weak bodies. Some collapse immediately under the strain, which can be a real inconvenience. In the case of your current unwilling host, you don’t think you will have that problem, as his body is already used to channeling large amounts of powerful energy. It is perhaps one of the strongest bodies you have ever been in, and you are glad you decided to let this one live years ago. Still, a quick test is called for, if only to blow out the cobwebs, to use one of the many strange human expressions you find so despicable, yet amusing.
The girl with the dark hair and big natural tits is still working the stage, while the men sitting near you shout things like, "Yeah baby!" and "Shake that ass!"
Let’s up the intensity of this show a little, you think.
You begin to focus your concentration on the dark haired dancer with the dragon tattoo on her leg. You wait until the girl finishes collecting money from the men around the stage, allowing them to tuck bills into the elastic of her G-string. When she walks back to the pole, you begin to direct your power at her. You see the confusion and slight consternation on her face, as she realizes she can no longer move herself away from the pole. It’s as if someone has glued her hands to the metal. Professional that she is, however, the girl keeps moving the rest of her body to the rhythm of the music. But she is also looking to the back of the stage for some sort of help, and soon another naked girl walks onto the stage and
dances her way over to the girl by the pole. The two girls exchange words, and then they both look confused as the dark haired dancer continues to try and unstick her hands from the pole, but to no avail.
Smiling, you decide to up the ante, and you begin to manipulate the girl’s entire body this time. The dancer lets out a frightened squeal that only seems to excite the crowd more, as you start to wrap that delectable body of hers around the pole. The girl’s hands stay in place as the rest of her moves in the opposite direction. You see the pain and distress in her face as her body is pulled around the metal pole. Then you hear the crack of bone as the girl’s wrists snap, followed by her forearms, the broken shards bursting through the girl’s skin, spraying blood all over the stage, and over the blonde girl who was trying to help her.
Soon the mangled girl is screaming in agony as her body continues to twist and fold around the metal pole. The sound of more bones breaking causes the people around you to draw back in horror from the stage, yet unable to keep their eyes off the grotesque performance that is happening. The music has now stopped, and the stage is full of people who try in vain to unwrap the screaming dancer from the pole. But there is no moving her, and the people on the stage soon realize this, as they step back from the girl in helpless horror.
More of the dancer’s bones break as you continue to force her body around the pole, stretching and tearing her skin. The lit stage is now awash with the dancer’s blood. She only stops screaming when her spine breaks. Even then, you continue to manipulate her broken body, until it ends up looking like some disgusting creature has wrapped itself around the pole.
But you are not finished yet. The crowd needs a finale, and you shall give it to them. You focus on the blonde dancer who is still on stage and screaming in horror at her friend. When your power hits her, the blonde dancer is upended and slammed onto her back. Before anyone knows what’s happening, she is sliding at speed towards the flesh covered metal pole. Her legs are wide open when she hits, and the sound of her pubic bone shattering makes people scream. Some of the men standing behind you begin to vomit.
But they ain’t seen nothing yet.
You slide the screaming blonde dancer back across the stage, causing those around to jump out of the way. When the girl is a good ten feet away, you rocket her towards the pole, with her legs wide open once again. The girl’s face is a picture as she speeds towards the pole. She knows exactly what’s coming, the pain she is in for, and that makes things all the more pleasurable for you.
The metal pole splits the girl open to her belly when she hits it, throwing back a great wave of blood onto the stage that covers some of the people still standing there. The sound of increased screaming only makes you smile wider.
But you are not done. One final movement is called for in this symphony of blood.
You slide the now dead girl across the stage again. Then you slam her into the pole once more. This time the pole cleaves right through the girl’s body, splitting her in two in the most brutal manner possible. The two halves go flying out either side of the stage, and you are hit with a spray of hot blood that is shocking at first, but then immensely satisfying.
Standing up, you begin to clap. "Bravo!" you shout as everyone stares at you aghast. "Bravo!"
A rough hand grabs your shoulder and spins you around. A large man dressed in black now has you by the throat. Security, you presume. You grab the man’s wrist and twist sharply. The man screams as a shard of broken bone bursts from his skin. As the bouncer falls to his knees and screams in agony, you grab him by the head and pull. His head rips from his body easily. Like pulling a grape from a vine. You stare at the head for a second, as if you are fascinated by it. Then you throw it onto the stage, which already looks like a bloodbath.
Smiling as you look around, no one else approaches you. Not even the handful of supernatural creatures in the room. They recoil when you look at them, and you are aware that your human eyes are now glowing red. "Thank you all for a wonderful evening," you say, just before draining the last of your Long Island Ice Tea, which now has blood mixed into it. "I bid you all a good night!"
As you go to leave the strip club, someone shouts out, "You won’t get away with this, Creed!"
A smile crosses your lips. "I think you’ll find that I will."
1
Riding With The Devil
In terms of terrifying things that have happened to me over the years, getting possessed by a goddamn demon has to rank up there with one of the most terrifying. It’s not just your body the bastards possess, even though that’s bad enough. It’s also your mind and soul. The fuckers invade every tiny part of you. No corner of your mind is too dark or remote not to be violated and merrily explored by the demon possessing you. Within moments of the invasion, the demon will know your every dirty little secret, your every repressed memory, and anything you have tried to hide away over the years, even from yourself. At the same time, the demon’s dark essence seeps deeper into your soul, making you feel so dirty and unclean that you just want to squirm your way out of your own body to escape.
Physically speaking, things aren’t much better. Once inside, the demon has full control, as it settles firmly into the driver’s seat. You still have the sensation of moving around, but you are a prisoner in your own body. It’s like being paralyzed inside a moving machine, where you have no choice but to go where it goes.
In the end, possession is the ultimate form of rape. A human will never feel so violated as when they are possessed by a demon.
That’s what I had to put up with for over a week after being possessed. I remained a paralyzed prisoner in my own body, unable to communicate in any way. I couldn’t speak, and I could barely muster a thought. I remained trapped while the demon strode around town doing whatever the hell he wanted, without fear of reprisals and to whomever the hell he wanted.
Let me tell you, he did a lot of things to a lot of people.
Over the course of those long days, I became a spectator in the life of an immensely powerful serial killer. Or so it seemed. The demon tortured, brutalized and killed so many people, I lost count. It had to have been dozens, and that wasn’t even including the scores of people he caused to have unfortunate "accidents". If he saw someone walking across the road, he would direct a car in the person’s path. If he saw someone on a ladder, he would cause the ladder to fall. For the fun of it, he would also invade the minds of random people and force them to do crazy things, like begin to assault and rape the person nearest to them, or to murder some other random person in a variety of creative ways. All for the sheer fun of it. I may not have been able to access the demon’s thoughts, but it was still clear the bastard was enjoying himself as much as a master butcher in a kill house.
After witnessing dozens of horrifying incidents, the fear that this was now my existence began to permeate every fibre of my being. The demon no doubt allowed this fear to spread in me, just because it amused him. How long was I going to be a prisoner in my own body? Would the demon just kill me after it had finished using me? Such questions burned within me, but I had no means of communication to ask them.
I don’t think I would have gotten very many answers anyway. That was the other infuriating thing about it all. The demon was completely ignoring me. After those first words when he initially invaded my body, he went on to act as if I wasn’t there at all. It was like he didn’t want the distraction of having to acknowledge me. The fucker was on vacation, and he had slapped a big DO NOT DISTURB sign on my face.
The only times the demon even remotely acknowledged my existence was when someone recognized me. That is to say, when someone recognized the face being worn by the demon. To everyone out there who saw, it was August Creed walking around, not some demon. So when the demon did bad shit, like force a woman to throw her baby into oncoming traffic, people saw me at the scene, and not the demon. Luckily, he was mostly subtle about his public displays of power. Most people didn’t realize it was him manipulating matters. The
y only knew when the demon wanted them to know, like in the strip bar when the bastard wrapped that poor dancer around a pole, and then used the same pole to split another dancer in half. People thought I did that shit!
But there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. The demon could fuck Donald Trump to death on national TV for all to see, and there wouldn’t be anything I could do to stop him (admittedly, in that particular case, I don’t think I would stop him).
I was fucked basically.
The cops couldn’t stop the demon either. Despite the trail of blood left behind, the cops—or even Division for that matter—never got near him. He proved expert in avoiding the authorities, who were no doubt going all out to try and catch the depraved serial killer who was painting the town red.
Then one day in an expensive hotel room in the Highlands, the demon said out of the blue, "I think it’s time we had a little chat."
Just like that, I had control of my body again. The move was so unexpected, and I had forgotten what my body felt like by then, that I immediately collapsed onto the expensive carpet like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. I lay there gasping and making strange sounds with my mouth, as I struggled to get used to being me again. The whole experience was as overwhelming as the initial possession, and it took me a good few minutes before I could even stand up, and a further few minutes before I could work my brain properly again.