Rise of an African Elemental: A Dark Fantasy Novel (African Elementals Book 4)

by Alicia McCalla

  That’s why they raped me. He hated his mother. He hated the baby more. He wanted it gone. Kick her again, Daddy!

  Corbin’s chest heaved, and that’s when he heard them. The sirens. It all happened so fast. Four blue pigs came out of nowhere and sprayed his father with pepper spray. His daddy fell to his knees, grabbing his eyes. The situation was now out of Corbin’s control. He couldn’t make the chaos stop.

  Corbin pleaded, “Don’t take my daddy!”

  But they hauled his father away as if he were a common criminal. His drunken dad tried to fight them, but those stupid neighbors helped the pigs by holding him back. Corbin’s mother shrieked, possessed. They strapped her down, her stomach flattening, blood gushing between her legs.

  His mother hollered with a grieving sob. “It’s okay, baby. Everything will be okay.”

  Corbin wailed. “It’s your fault. It’s your fault.”

  His mother studied him with pain in her deep-set sunken eyes. “I know. I know.”

  The last he remembered was both of his parents being taken away. One in the pigs’ car and the other in the ambulance. They’d abandoned him. Left him. He was all alone. Why hadn’t his mother just given him his favorite cookie? Why did she make him so weak? His belly knotted as the slow heaves built into a full sob. He couldn’t control the web of all of the mayhem he’d created. Some old white woman from Social Services said she was going to take him to a better home, for now, but he didn’t want a better home; he wanted to be with his daddy. The adult Corbin came back to himself. He hadn’t meant for those bitches to see that last part.

  “Aww. He miss him’s daddy,” one of them said.

  Corbin’s nostrils flared. His head jerked back and his eyes bulged. He gritted his teeth and his pulse sped. He lost himself as he leaped on the woman, punching her like a dude. He smacked her similar to how his dad did to his mom over and over and over until the woman’s face turned to mush. Then he fell back, sweating and anxious. He was hard again.

  The two other women slid themselves on top of him, taking turns, riding and suckling his intimate parts. Corbin zoned in and out of the sex act. Detached. He compared their white skin to his own. He frowned. They were about the same complexion. Corbin studied his skin. Why am I not black enough?

  He swallowed hard, his face going slack. The women continued to sex him, but he cared less. He turned his head and his dashiki hung from the hotel dresser. He always wore it, to prove his blackness—to prove that he belonged—to prove he was a man. Then the evil spoke to him, slithering.

  You hate white women. The words coiled inside his mind. They are always at fault.

  His body came. He forced them off, pushing them away. He controlled them with his chaos. Easy pickings.

  He stood up. White women were worthless! That was why he made it his business to fall in love with a dark-skinned black woman. Shania was a sweet, succulent berry.

  He put on his red and black dashiki. Ahh. He was a strong black man.

  He scrunched his forehead as he thought about Shania. He ground his teeth. His stomach tensed. She was in love with the white man. How dare she? How could she give herself over to the ones who enslaved them? It wasn’t right. The white man would never love her the way he could. Chaos warmed his core, and he released it like a dizzying carnival ride.

  That white man would never understand her plight, being black in America. He’d never console her or get what made her have to struggle in Ameri-kkk-a. He’d never treat her like the black queen that she was. He’s da’ white man!

  Corbin turned around. His vision turned spidery red. His fangs dropped down.

  The evil stroked his ego. Get rid of them!

  The women’s bodies rattled and shook. Puss-filled lesions peppered their mouths. They shrieked, skulls splitting open, eyes popping out. A big hole formed, burning like acid, in the middle of their foreheads where a third eye should’ve been.

  The women’s bodies withered, darkening until they were pinkish gray corpses—zombies. Little devil tails sprouted at the same time that their ears punched through. The ears were pointy like a trollꞌs. Thick, black hair burst forth on their bellies. Then, their hands morphed into long, spotty talons. Perfectly manicured fingernails became bone-like claws. Their mouths opened into red, spongy throats. He wanted to turn away but became fascinated as their mouths expanded, cracking unnaturally, warts exploding all over their faces.

  They screeched. Shut up. Someone will hear.

  Dayum! They’d morphed into some oo-O-gly monsters.

  The evil whispered. “Tokoloshe.”

  With the transformation complete, the zombie-trolls began to fight each other. He’s mine!

  Corbin shrugged, wiping his hands. He didn’t care about them bitches. Let ’um tear each other to shreds.

  He focused on Shania. He found his phone and called her—again. She didn’t pick up, which pissed him off. He cracked his knuckles. She’d be sorry like his mother. She could’ve had him. Instead, she turned her back on her legacy, her own people. She would pay for choosing the white man over him.

  Corbin opened the app on his phone that traced hers. He was glad he controlled everything in her life. Since she was on his plan, he could find her phone anywhere, but then, he suspected where she was headed. That’s why he was going to beat her there by plane. He smiled similar to his six-year-old self as he’d figure out a way to make her suffer on her road trip.

  Corbin’s mind buzzed as he tapped into the evil link he shared with the other Obayifo. He drilled deep into the connection until he found someone who’d seen Shania. He surveyed her terror-filled face. Oh, he relished the fear in her coal-black eyes. She deserved this. She deserved this all!

  The evil inside his mind uncoiled, skittering and wriggling to make the connection. Corbin pushed his targeted will until he connected with a group of bikers who were close to Shania’s location. He’d have them abduct and hold her until he made it there to punish her for running.

  The evil spoke, the voice scratchy. We must have the daughter, but you can have the mother for your own.

  Corbin smirked. He’d have Shania, and he’d make her pay.

  He looked back on the bed. The three monsters ripped into each other’s femoral arteries and began to chow down on each other in a blood-sucking threesome. Their eyes glowing with Corbin’s chaos, as they sucked the life out of each other; slowly devouring each other until dead. He shrugged. Served them right for trying to please his insatiable appetite for pain, manipulation, and terror. He had a plane to catch. Now, how was he going to get rid of all of those bodies and the dead zombie-trolls?

  The evil spoke to him in a vision. He saw a red and black tattoo form inside his mind. The followers of Eshu would clean up this mess; he could leave it. Corbin’s thoughts reverted to how he would make Shania pay. He adjusted his member and went inside the bathroom to freshen up. Yup. He was gonna get her ass back for choosing the white man over him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Shania

  Loud rustling in the trees and bushes across the parking lot made Shania pause as she was placing the box inside her trunk. Thor growled. Her heart sped. What’s over there?

  “Easy, boy...” Her vision turned green, and tiny Adinkra symbols bobbed along the side of her SUV. She reached for them, but they disappeared. She gulped, biting her lip. Her stomach was on fire, warning her. Thor’s growls became more serious. Should she go investigate?

  Shania turned, taking a step toward the darkened trees and bushes when she swore a person’s blood-smeared face appeared, slow moving, heckling. Thor was gone, and she was alone. The face morphed into a red web of tarantulas with many pairs of stalking eyes. The creepy arachnids hung on a dark crimson thread. The spider army descended, crawling fast.

  Shania tried to run, but her body refused. She was stuck. Her heart jumped. The deadly spiders engulfed her, scaling her legs, covering her in a disgusting wet yarn-like webbing. She reached for her neck but was paralyzed. She was bein
g stabbed in the throat. She screamed, but no sounds would form. She smashed her eyes shut before they covered them. It’s not real! When she reopened them, everything was normal. Shaking. Oh my god! She heaved.

  She could move again. Thor stood by her…protective. The scratching noises started again, but she ignored them. Thor growled while she packed the SUV like a mad woman. Just a small animal.

  “Come on, boy!” She whistled for Thor and marched into the room to lift Lydia. Her ten-year-old daughter was heavy, but Shania carried her like a champ. Thor stood at the back of the vehicle facing the noise. He bared his teeth. Shania shakily placed Lydia inside. She studied her child. Lydia was already fully dressed in a style all of her own. Odd, how did string bean know?

  Shania went to retrieve Thor by the collar, but he wouldn’t budge. His barks became fierce. Shania studied the bushes again, but they appeared normal.

  “Get in the car!” Her heartbeat shook. “Let’s go. We’ve got to get out of here!” Thor settled down and allowed her to lead him into the hybrid SUV where he plopped down, placing his large head on Lydia’s minuscule leg. Shania jumped in and started the vehicle. She wheeled around to the front of the motel and pulled underneath the overhang. She got out and headed toward the door.

  The early-morning breeze brushed her face. The potted plants and mini flower garden illuminated with an unusual glow. She closed her eyes, wondering if the glowing was real. She reopened them and became drawn to the poor plants. They called to her to save them. Cigarette butts and abandoned cans and bottles littered the little garden space, choking away their ability to grow. The beauty of the orange and yellow flowers ached to be appreciated underneath the garbage. The caretakers hadn’t done their jobs. Why don’t people take care of the garden?

  Her hands tingled. The desire to bury her hands in the soil and touch the earth underneath the jilted garden overwhelmed her. She wanted to nurture them, help them reach their full potential, grow stronger in the face of all the pollution. No time. She raced inside the whooshing doors. She turned back to keep an eye on her SUV with her precious cargo inside. She wanted to pay her bill and get on the road.

  Shania marched to the desk to ring the bell. She rubbed her nose as a foul rotten-egg scent burned her nostrils. Her heart pounded in her ears. She rubbernecked. Her hands twitched, jerking. That nervous tick when Corbin was about to abuse her. Her phone buzzed again. She fumbled, turning it off.

  She took a deep breath and said one of her mantras. Love and believe in yourself. Allow goodness to find you.

  “Calm down,” she told herself. “He can’t find you here.” She refocused on this moment. What was wrong? The place was deserted, but crashing noises came from the back room. Howling? Maybe the TV?

  She held her desire to run and pounded the massive bell twice. No response. She ground her lip. She crossed her arms and tried to control her breathing.

  Her stomach burned. “Is anyone here?” she yelled toward the workroom. Cold sweat ran down her spine. Her legs cramped with the impulse to flee.

  “I’ll leave my bill on the desk,” she hollered. She whipped out cash and was about to leave it on the desk. She hesitated. What if the employees stole the money? She was a black woman on the road, alone. She didn’t want any trouble with the local law. So, she waited until her instincts screamed.

  The crashing sounds grew louder. She wet her lips with her tongue, and her body trembled. Screw this.

  She threw her money and motel bill on the front desk and turned, slamming into the night manager’s huge chest.

  “I-I wanted to pay my bill. Left the money on—” Shania was unable to speak as the linebacker-sized male clamped down on her shoulders with his butcher-sized bloodied hands, lifting her off the floor. Bile rose in her throat as she stared into hollow blue eyes, a mouth full of puss-filled lesions and fangs. Oh God, no.

  He resembled a possessed zombie from one of her creepy shows. She screamed in terror, kicking him multiple times in the testicles. She may as well have thumped a tank.

  Warrior drums boomed.

  “Corbin wants you, and the Master/Mistress wants your daughter. He will have you, and they will have her.”

  Shania grit her teeth, swallowing hard. Her chin lowered and she fixed her stare on him. Her survival instinct kicked in. What’s happening?

  Her mind blanked. Her body responded, but Shania’s conscious mind was no longer in complete control. The lobby turned a greenish-gold hue. The motel shook.

  “You can’t have my daughter.” Her voice rang with goddess power. Where did that come from?

  Unreliable memories flooded her mind, snippets of her defeating creatures similar to this one. Were her hands aching to carry a sword? She refocused. The beast stumbled, loosening his grip. Shania swung her torso and legs, but she still couldn’t get free. The manager’s grip retightened.

  His eyes glowed crimson, his head cranked unnaturally. His face was the one she saw in the trees! Shania’s insides collapsed. She gaped at the ceiling crawling with red insects. She blinked. They aren’t real! The bugs disappeared. Her breath burst in and out. Her lips and chin quivered. She recoiled as the zombie manager leered in her face. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead.

  Dizziness, weakness in her knees. Thor came out of nowhere. The oversized German shepherd chomped down on the man’s arm bone forcing him to release Shania. She took off running, struggling with her keys until she realized Lydia was awake and the car door open.

  “Come on, Mama. Hurry!” Lydia yelled. Her pink barrettes bounced up and down as she turned her head. The child glowed like the flowers. Shania slid into the front seat and Lydia whistled for Thor. The manager charged after them, his oozing, crushed, pulverized arm dangling.

  Thor leaped and Lydia slammed the door shut. Shania put the car in drive and floored the gas pedal. The crazy manager’s eyes blazed in her rearview mirror. A red web-like substance knotted his torn skin together.

  She thought, I should’ve chopped his head off. He couldn’t heal that! Where had those words come from? The manager held up his fast-healing arm with long fingernails that resembled claws.

  “You can’t hide!” he howled. “We will find you!”

  Her heart raced, but her only thoughts were to get her child to safety. Thank God for Lydia and Thor!

  Her nerves unhinged, Shania took deep gulps. She gripped the wheel tight.

  She peeked in the rearview mirror. My child is safe.

  Shania took a cleansing breath. They’d be okay. She studied her own image in the mirror. The dried bloodstains on her shirtsleeves made her shudder.

  In her peripheral vision, her grandma’s box sat on the passenger side. Thought I put that in the trunk. Weird.

  Her phone buzzed on her side. She chewed her lip. She’d have to get a new cell as soon as she reached Atlanta. She’d been stupid for allowing Corbin to put her on his phone plan. He controlled too many aspects of her life. Why was she so submissive? At first, she’d wanted to keep him happy. Then, she felt guilty about aborting his child. It all spiraled so fast.

  Her eyes glanced over at her grandmother’s box. She couldn’t believe the strange events. She was exhausted and petrified. She swerved into the next lane. I’ll pull over and put that back in the trunk. She took a hurried glance at the box.

  After the death of her parents, she’d come to depend on her Nanabaa. The woman held everything together. Shania never felt as strong, vigilant, or determined as her grandmother. That woman had been through serious adversity, from being a member of the Civil Rights Movement and marching with Dr. King, to facing the death of her children. Her grandmother told her stories of how she’d been jailed for sitting in at the local Woolworth’s. Shania held a healthy respect for the risks her grandmother took for freedom.

  It was hard for Shania to deal with the fact that she came from such a strong woman but was so weak. Shania was a people pleaser. She wanted to keep the peace and make everyone happy even if it meant her life was miserabl
e. A tear trailed down her cheek as she came to the conclusion that, in comparison to her grandmother, she was frail and sensitive. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that for most of her adult life, she’d allowed people to push her around and rarely stood up for herself. It was as if she had different genes. How can I have been descended from strength but be so weak?

  Call forth your war swords! a woman’s voice chimed in her mind. Shania wanted to grip her ears, but she resisted, keeping her hands on the steering wheel. Ghostly beads rattled. A small wind gust lifted her SUV off the road for a few seconds. Her heart jumped.

  She veered across lanes getting the vehicle back on track. Her vision turned green, and those little symbols danced along the windows. Am I high? Had the crazed manager transferred a drug to her skin? She turned on the windshield wipers, spraying fluid to get them off the window. Still there. She ground her quivering lip. Not again.

  She turned toward the box in the passenger seat. Creepy! She craned her neck to survey behind her.

  “Lyd, hon, did you put Nanabaa’s box in Mama’s front seat?”

  Lydia removed one pink earbud while playing her gaming device. “No, Mama.” Shania heard her child’s exasperation as she went back to playing her game.

  Shania made a heavy sigh. Her baby girl took all of this so well. Shania knew her child had special gifts. Protect your daughter!

  The distant drumbeat grew louder. Shania whipped around to see if Lydia noticed. The child seemed unaffected.

  It’s all in my mind! Shania peered at the box.

  She didn’t want to be anywhere near that thing while she was driving. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to toss the box out the window, but she couldn’t. Her Nanabaa left it for her, and she had to keep it safe, but the box was going to drive her insane. She wanted to bash it. Maybe if she focused on the road, the symbols and sounds would go away. She slammed the accelerator and drove faster. The drumming raised to a fever pitch. The more she attempted to ignore the drumbeat, the louder it got. She screamed and cried as her mind exploded into a series of optical delusions.