‘You didn’t have to kill her! What have you done?!’
‘Carmen… She was not herself anymore. She was already lost. A terrible, awful demon, a monster, took over her mind and her body.’
‘Monster? My sister… a monster?’ Her face flushed with rage. ‘You’re the monster, Cam! How could you? How could you do this? I should have let the police keep you in, you’re a fucking psycho!’
‘I only did what had to be done.’
‘You killed her!’
‘Carmen… She was already dead. There was no going back for her, when the demon took over…’
‘Shut up! Just shut up! I don’t want to hear any more about demons and monsters and all that bullshit! You’re a cold blooded killer! You’re trying to make excuses for yourself, but you’re insane! I can’t believe I thought you were a friend…’
‘I am your friend…’
‘No you’re not! You’re a fucking evil psycho!!’
‘Carmen, I was just trying to protect you…’ Khaos reached out to try and console her.
‘Get away from me! Don’t touch me!’ Carmen cried, pushing Khaos’s back. ‘Mark! Where’s Mark?’ She got to her feet unsteadily and hobbled toward the path. ‘Mark! Where are you? MARK!’
‘Honey, what’s happening?’ shouted a male voice from the gate at the bottom of the garden.
‘Mark, is that you?’ Carmen shouted almost in disbelief.
‘Carmen? Are you ok?’ He appeared round the bend of the path from behind a line of trees, his face a picture of concern. Mark, the hero.
‘Mark! Oh, Mark!’ Carmen wailed, running to him and throwing herself into his arms. ‘Something terrible has happened!’ she sobbed, her voice shaking. ‘You have to come, quick! Call an ambulance, call the police, or someone! Anyone!’ She wailed hysterically, then half led, half dragged him back up the path to the Japanese garden, balking at the destruction all around them, the huge craters in the ground, the trees, ripped up from their roots…
When Mark saw Marla, he turned away, gagging, as if he would be sick. ‘What the hell has happened here?’ he gasped. ‘What happened to… Her?’
‘It was that monster, Cam,’ said Carmen bitterly. ‘Hang on, where did she go? Cam? Cam! Stop hiding! Cam?’ She stared all around; calling her name, but the garden was empty, except for the two of them and what was left of Marla. ‘Cam! Come back and face what you’ve done! Cam!? CAM!!’ She screamed to the sky.
Khaos clutched Nyx, a flying horse once more, as they flew towards the rising sun. She looked back through the clouds, hearing Carmen’s distant voice as merely a whisper on the wind. She tried to gulp back the lump in her throat, quell her shaking heart, but she couldn’t. Would Carmen ever forgive her for what she had done? For what she had to do? Khaos knew the answer was no. How could she ever explain to Carmen what had happened here tonight? And would she understand, or even believe it? Would anyone, for that matter? No, Khaos was alone in her knowledge of the supernatural realm. The humans’ tiny minds could not comprehend the world of demons and spirits, the destruction of the world around them, the ever-present danger they were in, when these demons walked among them, taking over their minds, controlling their very actions. They were blind to it. Would they ever understand her motives? Would they ever show gratitude for what she had done for them, what she sacrificed for them?
As if echoing her thoughts, the spirit voice answered her. ‘You will never be thanked for what you do, Khaos. They will never understand the greater good, and they will only see the destruction caused in getting there. The path to redemption is a lonely road. Only the bravest, and the most resilient, can survive it. You must have no other motive for your actions, but to carry out the will of God. If you are looking for recognition, or gratitude, or even friendship, in return, you will be disappointed.’
‘She called me a monster. Am I a monster? Am I a bad person?’
‘No, Khaos. You are doing what you had to do. What you were born to do. If your task is not completed, the world, and all its inhabitants, are doomed. You have to forgive the humans their ignorance, they do not understand what is at stake.’
‘Forgive them, father, for they know not what they do,’ murmured Khaos, reciting something that had suddenly popped in her head. She could not remember where she had heard it before, but something told her that it had been said before, by someone in a very similar position to the one she was in now. It seemed appropriate, somehow.
It was mid-morning by the time Detective Heel reached the Portabello household, and already the place was crawling with policemen, paramedics, the fire brigade, and a huge forensics team; their white overalls dotted the garden like a herd of odd looking sheep. She observed the damage to the grounds, the surrounding area, and the houses nearby. There were huge holes in the earth, which various officials and overall-clad forensics experts were scouring for evidence; traces of explosives, or anything to explain all this mess. The enormous trees, ripped up by their roots, were lying in a heap of broken branches and soil; what had disturbed them in this way? It was as if they had been physically torn out of the earth. Here, then, were the earthquake cracks in the ground, that was going to cause someone in data access a major headache; had there ever been earthquakes in this area before? Let alone of this size? Scorch-marks blackened the grass in several places, something about the length of a cricket bat, had burnt areas of the turf. Or about the size of a sword, Heel noted.
In her heart, she knew who was behind all this. Only one explanation was fixed in her mind, only one perpetrator could be capable. Only the day before, she had seen similar level of destruction at her own station. There were no casualties thankfully, but some officers had been hospitalised. Somehow Heel herself had survived the collapse of the building, miraculously without any major injury. And although her doctor had advised her to take time off to rest, she had not listened. She could not resist coming to this site, she had to see this destruction for herself.
She approached the nearest forensics officer, who was carefully examining something blackened and strangely oily, splattered onto the path.
‘D. I. Heel.’ She flashed her badge. ‘Anything to report?’ she began.
The forensics officer looked up. ‘Is that some sort of joke?’
‘A lot of damage, then?’
‘I don’t know where to start. It is going to take days just to collect the evidence. What do you want to know about first? The holes? The trees? The earthquakes? The corpse? I’ve been put in charge of weird stains. Take a look at this one.’ He offered Detective Heel a sample he had taken, presumably from the strange blob on the ground.
‘Looks like something you might chip off a barbeque,’ said Heel, inspecting the blackened sample gingerly.
‘You’re nearly right. It’s burnt flesh, and I’m afraid my instincts are telling me it’s human, though I need to get it back to the lab to verify that. Then there’s this one,’ He produced another sample, this time a powdery substance. ‘God knows what this is. But I’m getting traces of protein, calcium…’
‘Another person, perhaps?’ suggested Detective Heel wryly, noting the similarity to the powder found at Begby’s house, just over a week ago.
‘Maybe. Or some other animal. Who knows. But this stuff is all over the place.’
‘Great. And what about the sisters?’
‘Well, one is definitely dead, you can probably see that from here.’ He motioned toward the body, which was surrounded by forensics experts and an ambulance team, trying to move it so carefully.
‘The other one?’
‘The younger one, Carmen, is over there, in the driveway.’ He jerked his thumb toward an ambulance where a miserable looking young woman stood, shaking from head to foot. A young man had his arm around her, comforting her. The ambulance men were trying to offer them blankets and bottles of water, whilst some other police officers looked on.
‘I guess I should go over there, and see if she will give a statement.’ Heel said thoughtfu
lly. She felt something rub up against the back of her heels, and looked down to see a pure white cat, nuzzling its head against her ankles. ‘Hello kitty,’ the detective said, happy for the moment’s distraction. She reached down and rubbed behind its ears. ‘What horrors have you seen tonight?’
‘Heel?’
‘Yes?’ She looked up to see Constable Donahue, clearly tired and stressed out, standing to attention by her side. ‘Hey, how’s it going?’
‘What are you doing out of hospital?’ Donahue smiled wanly. ‘Chief Maldon doesn’t think you’re coming back until at least Thursday.’
‘I’m fine, Donahue, honestly. Only a few scrapes and bruises.’
‘We heard you hit your head.’
‘A headache is hardly a reason to stay off work, is it?’
‘Half the station is cordoned off, it’s a pile of rubble,’ said Donahue conversationally. ‘But as Chief says, crime doesn’t stop just because we have. So everyone who was off duty on Monday still has to work! Can you believe it! We’re not all workaholics, like you!’
‘Maldon is right. There is still work to be done. Besides, I’m hardly going to miss seeing all this, am I?’ She gestured to the destruction around them.
‘You have a strange concept of fun, Heel,’ Donahue joked. ‘So you think that this was…. Her?’
‘’You mean, Cam Handel, alias “Khaos, World Destroyer?” Yes, this definitely looks like her work.’
‘She must keep a serious battalion of explosives down her trousers, or something.’
‘Yes, she certainly has a few tricks up her sleeve…’ Heel remembered the explosion at the station. Such power, and it seemed to come from no-where. But it was all an illusion, some sort of sleight of hand with explosives… Surely….
‘You know what they’re calling her down at the station now, after the Edward’s statement?’ Donahue smiled. ‘”The angel of death”. What do you think?’
‘She’s no angel. That’s what I think.’
‘I thought you wouldn’t see the funny side.’ Donahue sighed. ‘Well, the witness is ready to give a statement, if you want to come over.’
‘Thank you, Constable. Lead the way.’ They walked down the well beaten path to where poor Carmen Portabello was waiting, blanket over her shoulders, shivering.
No one noticed the little cat scamper silently through the garden, down the path, and out the gate.
Khaos Page 19