Venom of the Gods

by Sebastian Chase

  I flashed up the basement and first floor stairs, arriving to their bedroom before Jack had managed to stand. In the darkness, he didn't realize that I was five feet in front of him in the open doorway, swaying as yet more weakness overcame me. I saw him reach for the bedside lamp and decided to transition my body into its human form so as not to give him a heart attack. The light came on and still he didn't notice me, but his wife did.

  "Jack!" she cried.

  Startled while trying to put on his slippers, Jack lurched forward and almost slipped off the bed. I rushed to him and grabbed him by his armpits. They were moist and reeked of body odor—disgusting. I sat him back on the edge, and he looked up at me.

  "What the hell?" he grumbled.

  "Hi, Jack. Close call there," I said. His wife eyed me coldly, her fear hidden under a mask of hatred. Not something I expected. Another thing I didn't expect was her familiarity, mainly the streaks of reddish hair interspersed throughout the gray. The familiarity didn't stem from the Christmas party; no, it was some time before when I had my memory. But when? Searching a brain filled with thousands of years of experience is a daunting task.

  "What is he doing here?" she demanded more than asked.

  "I don't know," Jack said. "Probably came to scare me into giving him his job back. It ain't gonna work, so get the fuck out of here!"

  "Actually, I'm here to talk to your wife." A look of confusion came across his face. "Rita, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to show you something and ask for your help. Is that okay?"

  "I'm gonna have you arrested!" Jack blurted.

  "Be quiet," I told him.

  "Or what? You'll kill me? Where's your gun? I know your type. All talk, but no balls in the pants." He started to get up.

  Enough niceties. My teeth popped down and my nails grew. I shoved him back into the bed. He slammed heavily into the headboard with a thud and stared at me wide-eyed. I placed a claw firmly in the middle of his neck and brought my lips close to his ear.

  "I am here to talk with your wife, not you, so I would appreciate it if you would keep your mouth shut. Understand, Jack?" A drop of blood escaped from his neck and dribbled down his chest, tempting me. I managed to fight off the urge to sink my fangs into him with memories of his greasy armpits.

  "Yes, yes, but you don't understand." He couldn't take his eyes off of my golden irises.

  "Oh, I understand everything. Now be a good boy and just enjoy the movie." I released him and walked to Rita's side of the bed. I thought for sure she would be scared and huddled on the floor somewhere, but she just sat there and eyed me after having calmly observed a vampire threatening her husband. I wondered if she was on some sort of medication that numbed her emotions. I reverted to human and placed a hand on one of hers.

  "Rita, it's okay. No one is going to hurt you," I said.

  "Do I look scared, Michael?" she said. I attributed her using my full name to age. Older people seemed to prefer such properness.

  "I need you, Rita. I need your help with Jack." I bent down closer.

  "Sure. What is it exactly that you need?" I felt pleased with her cooperative attitude.

  "Well, I want to show you a video of…" Jack jumped up and ran for the exit. I sighed in frustration. "Please stay here while I go get him," I said to her. "He needs to see this as well as you."

  "Absolutely. I am very curious." She was so calm that she had to be flying high on something.

  I stood and walked quickly out of the room. In the dark hall, I saw several other rooms where he could hide, but then I heard the creaking of a door open downstairs. For his size, he was fast.

  Using supernatural speed, I raced down the stairs in time to see the door to the garage close on spring-loaded hinges. I flung it open and darted through. The coward was already behind the wheel of a silver Ford, the main garage door slowly inching its way up. Just as he started the car, I was there. I ripped the door off, threw it down, and yanked him out with one hand.

  "Your wife needs you, Jack," I said. With his feet dangling in the air, I carried him out of the garage.

  "No! Let me go!" he yelled. "You don't understand! It was her idea!"

  "Are you saying she helped you get me fired?" I pulled him up the stairs. "I find it hard to believe that she would condone you raping someone to get me fired."

  "She's not…" he began, but trailed off with a groan when I tossed him roughly back on the bed. I had a new concern; Rita was gone.

  "Rita?" I called. "It's okay. I won't hurt you. I promise." A few moments of silence and then, from the master bathroom, she walked slowly out. She held a black pistol in her hand, thankfully pointed at the floor.

  "You promise you won't hurt me?" she asked softly.

  "Don't trust her, Mike!" Jack cried. "She's a witch!"

  "Shut up!" Rita yelled, suddenly not so soft-spoken and cooperative. "You fucked everything up! You were supposed to let him go nicely, and send him to the company! Lucky for you it worked out or you'd be skewered in the front lawn right now, you fat pig!"

  "He left my office and found it on his own," Jack tried to explain. She raised the gun. "He found out that…"

  "Shut up! Shut up!" she screamed.

  The barrel homed in on Jack, her finger tightened. Decisively, I rushed for Jack since he was much closer, hoping to provide some protection. The crack of gunshots erupted like nearby thunder crashing through the sky. Several bullets bounced off my back as I jumped onto Jack, protecting his body with my own. I had time to consider the ironic turn of events, but then more gunfire exploded, closer yet, and moist warmth soaked me in several areas. I lifted my head and saw his lifeless eyes inches from my own, a dark hole in his temple seeping blood.

  The gun slammed into the back of my head. She had thrown it and ran.

  I jumped up and leaped through the bedroom door into the hallway. Her silken nightgown flashed white just before me as she headed for the stairs. I reached out, grabbed her arm, and yanked her to a stop.

  "You didn't have to kill him!" I yelled. She spun around in my grip, her full chest landing on mine, and eye to eye, I finally recognized her. Stunned, my hand loosened slightly. "Oh my God, I remember. Ricka…Ricka is your real name."

  Using the shape-shifting talent inherent in the faulty creations that my wife would correctly label demons, Ricka had transformed herself. She was young and beautiful again—except for her eyes; her pupils were large misshapen inkblots that evoked a disturbing unease.

  "Hello, Michael. Please don't break my arm again. That hurt so bad," she said.

  The last time I knowingly ran into this temptress was in Germany during the 1800s. She was a concubine of Samael, or as humans now called him, Satan. Unlike me, he felt that humans were best enslaved like cattle being fattened up for butchering. I had tracked down Samael after our leader had gone missing, and in the ensuing battle, dispatched him and severely ruined Ricka's gorgeous looks. I never did manage to find out what Samael had done to Ra, only that he imprisoned him somewhere; an impressive feat considering the supernatural-like powers Ra possessed. I knew that Ricka could not be here by accident, and that whatever her goals were, they weren't going to be in my best interest.

  I took a breath, regained my composure, and hoped I sounded confident. "Why did you kill Jack?" I asked.

  "He likes to talk too much, and besides, I'm sure I did what you came here to do anyway."

  "I don't kill innocent people, even if they are assholes. What are you doing here, Ricka? Why did you tell Jack he was supposed to let me go, and send me to the company? What company?"

  She looked down and gently bit her bottom lip, and with her swelling cleavage partially covered on one side by lush reddish hair, I found her enticing to my dismay. When she looked back up, her strange eyes brought me back to reality.

  "Perhaps if you just give me what we want, we can end this charade," she said.

  "We?"

  "Samael, specifically."

  "He's dead."

  "You
r confidence is your weakness, but I like it." She traced her fingers along my shoulder and neck, stopping at my cheek with a soft caress. "Perhaps I could convince you to give it up without a fight."

  "Give what up? I have nothing to give up." Her lips came close to brushing with mine, her breath sweet and warm.

  "The potion," she said softly.

  "The potion?" I asked, my own voice growing soft as if a dancing cobra had hypnotized me. "I have none left."

  "Really?" She sounded disappointed and then, before my eyes, she began to change. Her hair retreated, growing shorter and darker, her lips thinned slightly while her cheeks raised. I watched as the strange looking pupils blossomed into beautiful green eyes. A cold ball of ice formed in my belly. Before me stood a girlfriend that I had a brief fling with in the 1970s, when my current wife was still a child.

  "I see you remember." She smiled. "But then how could you forget me. We had some wild times, didn't we?" I didn't want to give her power by acknowledging that she was the best lover I ever had, but I had no doubt that she already knew.

  "This is impossible," I said flatly, feeling my head spin from either shock or hunger, I knew not which. I felt I knew nothing anymore except that my reality was filled with lies. She brought her body closer.

  "My kind craves your kind, Michael. The powerful ones," she said softly. "Even if we have to settle for the likes of Samael. But you, even with no memory of your powers, are far better than him. Let's bring that back. With enough of your magical potion for both of us, we could live together in bliss forever as husband and wife." Her wandering hand made its way down my chest, past my waist, and I felt her massaging. "Tell me about this drug. Where did it come from?"

  She was getting the best of me, and I was letting her. I knew all too well that her kind were deviants, the succubi of folklore, with their only loyalty being to the desires of the flesh. I took a step back.

  "It won't work," I stated.

  "Seemed like it was working pretty good to me," she said with a sly smile.

  "Where is Samael?" I demanded.

  "As far as you're concerned, sweetheart, he's everywhere. Instead of worrying about him, let's have a little fun like we used to." She started to pull the nightgown down. As I reached forward to make her keep it on, dizziness hit and I fell into her arms. "Nice," she said, apparently thinking something else was going to happen.

  I tried to lift myself upright, but the hunger was too intense and her throat rested so close. I clung to her, fighting the hunger, not wanting to indulge in demon blood fearing that it might bind us together forever—that is if I didn't kill her to satiate my thirst.

  "Michael? What is this?" She lifted me and looked into my face. "Great! If you don't learn to feed more often, you will be done with before it begins." She shoved me backwards and I crashed against a wall and slid to the floor. "How disappointing! I'd love to give you a little sip, baby, but it looks like you're beyond just a sip. Maybe next time, but for now, I don't intend on being around when you go all crazy, desperate for food. Feed more, Michael, or Samael will crush you." She turned and vanished down the stairs.

  I had no time to contemplate what had transpired, for I was on the edge of catatonia. Weakly, I crawled back into the bedroom where Jack rested on the bed. Grabbing the edge, I pulled up, slipped, and tried again. The second time around, I managed to get my mouth near his neck. Although I despised the thought of his blood in me, I was desperate.

  I leaned forward and drove my fangs into him. The venom acted like a shot of adrenaline, waking his freshly deceased heart and sending his limbs into nerve-driven twitches. I drank feverishly, knowing that his eyes had become alive, darting back and forth as if trying to figure out what was going on. It didn't take long for the blood flow to slow and then cease altogether, hindered by a couple of holes in his body, but I managed to pull out a liter or two, which would hold me until morning. He escaped back into the solace of death, while I stood feeling much refreshed.

  Looking around the blood-splattered room, I shook my head, marveling over the incredible deception I had suffered. Ricka had been placed in a position that held power over me, but far enough removed that I wouldn't stumble upon her manipulations and become suspicious. However, according to her, Samael was the true mastermind. How had he survived, I wondered, and was his appearance timed with my recent awakening?

  I looked down at my bloodied clothes and realized that I had to get rid of them. It would not go over well if I returned to Karen looking like a serial killer back from the prowl. On the brighter side, at least Cathy would no longer be subjected to Jack's perversity at work. Feeling that I had at least one small accomplishment under my belt, I walked out of the room and down the stairs. The front door stood open, probably left that way by the fleeing demon. I closed it and then went to the basement where I discreetly exited the way I had arrived.

  A light rain fell, but I didn't care. I walked through several backyards under cover of darkness, wanting to think as much as conserve energy. Once far enough away from the crime scene, I crept along the side of a house, the sleeping family perhaps stirring, sensing the close proximity of a walking nightmare. A large SUV in the driveway provided cover for me to slip casually onto the street.

  The neighborhood was dark, but occasionally illuminated by distant lightning. Rainwater trickled down the road in search of an escape to the sea, and I followed it, seeking similar escape from recent madness. Soon the rain hardened and I was quickly soaked. Anyone looking out his or her window would have questioned my sanity. They would be right to do so.

  Samael was alive and his concubines with him. Not only was he alive, but he had been very busy creating a net around me in hopes that he could steer me to something called the company. Perhaps that's what he called his organization. From what Ricka had said, his objective was to obtain the amnesia-inducing potion, but he couldn't desire it to live as a human. He despised humans and wouldn't give up his power for anything, of that I was sure. There must be another use for it, but to find out what it was, I would have to ask him. Until then, I had to be very careful whom I trusted.

  Demons lacked fangs and venom, they survived on human food, they couldn't fly, and while their skin was tougher than humans, it would be nothing for me to slash open. What made them dangerous were their devious natures and the ability to hide well with their shape-shifting talents. My ability to detect lies through physiological reactions would come in handy in determining who was friend or foe, and the first one I would have to test would be Karen. While I had no reason to believe she was demon, I had to be sure.

  I walked for about a half-an-hour, following the water down the street where it vanished into a gutter at the end of a cul-de-sac. Beyond the end of the street was an open field with a stream running through it that took the water away. I followed it to a small pond surrounded by trees and a deserted grassy area for picnickers.

  With no worry of modesty, I stripped the bloody clothes off and walked to the shoreline. I found some large rocks and bundled them in my clothes. I wasn't worried about fingerprint or DNA evidence, as they would find none of that from me, but Jack's blood on my clothes was a different story.

  With a leap, I was over the middle of the pond and dove in. I swam to the bottom and quickly located a large boulder. Just as I lifted it, a startled catfish darted away, leaving behind a floating cloud of sand. While wondering how I would react if a giant lifted my house in the middle of the night, I stashed the weighted bundle under the boulder and then let it drop back down. I expected my clothes would slowly disintegrate with the years.

  After ensuring that none of the cloth was visible should a wannabe scuba diver decide to explore, I floated serenely for a few moments, enjoying the tranquility. It reminded me of the days before Earth, when I didn't have to lug flesh around and could lose myself drifting amongst the most amazing sights in the Universe.

  Begrudgingly, I returned to reality and scrubbed my chest with my hands, hoping to get some of the
blood that had soaked through off. Once satisfied, I kicked my legs hard and swam into the sky. The moon peaked through the clouds, and the air had taken on a gentle chill carried by a wind that quickly dried me. I urged myself ahead, feeling an incredible desire to get back to my new home, where I hoped all was truly as it seemed to be.

  Chapter 9

  "Holy shit!" Karen exclaimed as I sailed through the open window. She fell back and landed on her butt as I grounded myself on the floor. "Impressive," she said, after a moment's silence.

  Confused I looked down at her, and then remembered that I was completely nude. She stared at my mid-section with no shyness whatsoever. I raced for the bed, grabbed the sheet, and wrapped it around my waist.

  "I'm so sorry," I said.

  "Do you always fly around in the rain at night in the nude? Kind of kinky." She pulled herself off the floor.

  "What are you doing in here?" I asked. She walked towards me.

  "I've been waiting for you, but don't try to change the subject." She thumped a finger on my chest. "You're the one in the birthday suit, not me. Why?"

  "What time is it?" I asked.

  "Around three."

  "Why aren't you asleep?" I went over to the gym bag I had brought from home, hoping to find some shorts quick. Boxers sat on top, so I grabbed them.

  "Are you kidding? Seeing you just sail out the window earlier killed any thoughts of sleep."

  "How did you know I was leaving?"

  She was silent, as if searching for a plausible answer. "I don't know," she finally said. "I was excited and I guess I just barged in. Sorry."

  "Excited about what?"

  "I've been studying the specimens you gave me for hours. They're incredible!"

  "Yeah, I heard your excitement studying the specimens." I slipped the boxers on under the sheet, and then threw the sheet back on the bed.

  "What?" she asked, as I came close to her.

  "I said that I heard you studying the specimen." I gave her a knowing smile.