by Aline Riva
“I keep trying to think about the night I died...Cherry, I can't remember what happened!” he said, panic edging into his voice as he looked back at her, “Nothing is reminding me of that night, nothing! It's a blank! Maybe I'll never remember!”
“And that demon was pretty damned real. You have to remember!”
“I'm trying! I know my life is at stake, I can almost see an hourglass, the sand running out! But I can't force what isn't there, Cherry!”
“Oh no...” she had glanced up towards the place where the main stores began, spotting someone they definitely needed to avoid.
“What now?” he said wearily.
She grabbed the sleeve of his coat, turning him around and steering him back downhill towards the closed takeaway shop where the shutters were down.
“I just saw Owen over by the jewellers!”
“Oh great, maybe he can help us!”
“Drake, he thinks you're dead!”
All enthusiasm that had lit up his face at the thought of bringing his best friend coming in on this problem faded out at once.
“Oh yes... so he does. I'd better not let him see me...”
“I want to know what he's doing here,”Cherry said suspiciously.
“Owen? You don't still suspect him, do you? I told you, he's my best friend. You want to know what he's doing here? I can tell you the answer to that – it's Christmas time, he's shopping for presents!”
“I still want to speak to him.”
“Cherry -”
She gave no reply, glancing back at him, silently shooting him a warning look to stay right where he was and not follow. Drake gave a sigh and put his hands in his pockets and stood there by the closed shutters, watching that patch of ground with suspicion – there was no sign of the demon now but he swore he had just caught something on the air mingled in with the December chill – perhaps it had been his imagination, or perhaps it really had been a hint of sulphur...
He suddenly felt very alone as he stood there on the quiet street, looking towards the higher part of the road where sounds of life beckoned and Cherry had just headed off towards a shop in the distance. He looked to the ground where the carrot and the buttons lay embedded soft in snow:
They were sinking.
His eyes widened in horror as the snow melted and began to turn to ice.
“No...” he whispered, unable to raise the alarm because as he hurried closer to the square, he saw Cherry approaching Owen, who couldn't know he was alive, at least not yet – the shock would be tremendous...
He looked back as the ice cracked, in time to see a shapely vision in white with hair to match rising from the shattered ice as droplets and shards flew about, she rose just above the surface, the hem of her gown floating. He didn't think of the demon as an it any more – she was a woman, beautiful but with skin white as death and eyes pitch dark as the depths of hell...
Panic spun his mind dizzily as he looked to Cherry, then back at the demoness who stood there, her head tilted, her dark eyes fixed on him.
“Leave me alone!” he said in a frightened breath as his words formed an icy cloud but none escaped from her lips as she parted them, baring razor teeth.
She took a step forward. Then he did the only thing that made any sense at that moment. Drake panicked and ran, up the slope and heading for the town centre as the demon strode behind him, speeding up with every step as she shimmered, turned to a whirl of snowflakes, took to the air and rose, flying after him in pursuit.
Unaware of the chase that was happening a distance away, Cherry had just laid a gloved hand on Owen's shoulder.
He turned from the jewellery store window and looked slightly alarmed to see her standing there.
“Cherry...I didn't expect to see you here...”
“How are you?” she asked.
He put his hands in the pockets of his winter coat, paused and then nodded.
“Coping. But I still can't believe I won't see him again. I keep thinking about what happened...”
“What did happen? What can you remember?” she asked.
Light flakes of snow had started to drift, for now they would not drive the shoppers away, further up past the Christmas tree was a brightly lit Santa's grotto and the children queuing to visit Santa were squealing and laughing in delight as they looked upward to see the light snow fall start to descend, landing on the fake penguins and the backs of the reindeer and settling on the decorated trees that sat outside the entrance. He looked away from the cheerful seasonal crowd, his eyes reflecting misery.
“I went over to the museum to meet him. He said that he'd had words with Melody and then he said...” he paused, blinking back tears that had nothing to do with the chill wind that had just gusted over bringing with it a furry of snow, “He said, New Year would be a new start. He had a headache. He looked tired. I made him some tea, we sat down, talked about work and my bad business deal, we ironed all of that out, sorted some paperwork, he told me to forget the argument. Then he got up and said his head was hurting...he went down on the floor...”
He blinked away more tears as he shook his head.
“You know the rest.”
“Who made the tea?” Cherry asked.
He stared at her.
“Does it matter? There was a kettle in the office...He put the kettle on and I made the tea.”
“Did you drink it?”
His face paled.
“What the fuck are you saying?” he snapped, then as a family with two young children in tow passed by he pulled back on his anger, keeping his voice low, “You're talking like it was my fault?”
“I'm just asking what happened. Did you feel unwell too?”
“No. I was on something stronger. We'd quarrelled – I was drinking scotch. Not too much, just a couple of glasses. I really needed it after the row we had earlier on the phone. He could be very hard on me when finances messed up. It didn't happen often but he could be harsh regarding money and mistakes.”
“What about before that evening? Did he say anything about headaches then?”
“No, he was too busy ripping into me about the money I'd lost. I keep thinking, if he'd not been upset over that, not had that extra stress to get worked up over, maybe he'd still be here. I feel like I killed him.”
More tears formed in his eyes and he looked away back to the store window.
“Sorry, I can't talk about this yet. Not today, it's too soon. I need to get on and find a present for my Mum.”
“Okay,”she said quietly, “I'll see you around.”
He gave no answer as he stood there browsing the shop front and then he turned away and went inside the store. As Cherry turned back she realised that had been great timing – Drake was running towards the town centre, and a whirlwind of spiralling snow was chasing behind him...
To those passing by it looked as if it was simply a flurry drifting on the cold gust that was carried up from the beach far below. To onlookers, Drake was simply in a hurry to get somewhere. But shoppers had gifts on their minds, excited children were waiting to see Santa and no one looked twice as the man hurried on over the snowy ground and flurry of flakes whirled on the breeze as all around, the snow fell down a little heavier.
“Cherry!” he called.
She caught the look of alarm in his eyes as he ran and then she saw the strange whirlwind of spiralling flakes giving chase, so she ran through the snow and over harder, icy ground as he went past the tree in the middle of the square and past the queue for Santa, then on towards the wide open square where it opened up in three directions, left and right to shopping centres and down the middle towards a car park.
She signalled left, where the largest undercover shopping mall was closest.
“Good idea!” he called back, then he darted for the entrance, slipping on ice and falling hard.
As Drake's head hit the ice with a crack, he saw stars for a moment, then looked up the see the roof of the lower level of the mall, perched above it was a stone g
argoyle, glaring down at him, winged and sneering, but there was not trace of the demoness hidden in the whirl of snow now.
A shopper abandoned her bags and made a move to go over and offer help to the man who had slipped.
“He's fine!” Cherry said quickly, catching up and waving her away and darting to his side, helping him up quickly as Drake rubbed the back of his head.
“Are you hurt?”
“Bit dizzy...I'll live.”
“You'd better!” Cherry warned him, feeling sure at that moment he had no clue how afraid she was for his safety.
He rubbed the back of his head again, felt no lump beneath his hair and took his hand away, relieved to see no sign of blood, either.
“Where is she?” he said nervously, looking about the covered mall and then out at the entrance where the falling snow had thickened. All they could see now was snowfall dizzily flying about as it headed downward on gusts of icy wind.
“I think she's gone,” Drake said in a hushed voice as he nervously watched the falling snow and the very ordinary scene of Christmas time in the town square, minus a pursuing demoness. Then as the snow rose from the ground close to a bush outside the mall, snow whirled about as more flakes fell, disguising the form that rose with it, her dark eyes burned into the covered mall as she set her sights on Drake.
“Shit!” he said under his breath, grabbing Cherry's hand.
As they broke into a run and hurried down the ground floor of the shopping centre, she was thankful it was under cover – paved ground here but no ice or snow, no slipping hazards as they raced to the end, then around a corner, here he slammed his back tight against it, pulled her close and they paused to recover breath.
“Why is she chasing me?” he said as he looked to Cherry with wide eyes, “I'm supposed to have four days -”
“Three and half,” she reminded him, looking nervously around the corner, but seeing nothing but whirling snow at the other end of the mall. Up ahead the place opened out into an open air parade of shops that led back around to the front entrance. There was nothing but snow and shoppers hurrying to get away from the now increasing fall as they made for the warmth of the mall and nearby shops.
Then Drake and Cherry exchanged a horrified glance as close by outside she rose again, shaded by a snow covered fir tree, her hair blowing back in the breeze as her white gown did the same. Her eyes were deep and wide and dark as hell as she stood there, fixing her gaze on Drake. She reached out a snow pale arm and opened up her hand.
As the stabbing pain began in the centre of his body, Drake gave a gasp as his right hand began to burn as if his palm was on fire. He ripped off his glove and stared in alarm at the silver sparks that zipped about his open hand.
“Residual power from the resurrection left over from the demon – it's real!” he exclaimed, then he looked about, saw shoppers with their backs turned heading into a nearby cafe, and with no one in sight to witness the event he opened up his shaking hand, willing the sparks to fly towards the gargoyle on the exit that matched the one at the front of the mall. They flew silently in a spark of firework glow, hitting the stone creature. At once it flapped its wings, let out a screech, launched from the rooftop and swooped after the demoness, who roared as shoppers turned around in confusion, caught sight of the flying gargoyle and then panic ensued as people screamed and yelled and ran in the opposite direction, some diving into shops, others making for the other end of the mall.
The demoness was now a whirl of snow and in flight, a cyclone of snowflakes moving against the wind as the snowfall came down from the lead skies above, the whirlwind of flakes lifted into the air and sped off towards the clouds, as the creature flapped concrete wings, screeching as it rose and gave chase.
Once again Drake grabbed her hand and they ran, but this time out of the exit, in the same direction as the gargoyle as they watched it disappear up into the grey skies, as the demoness as a whirlwind of snow hit a cloud and whirred into it, as shadows of flapping wings could be seen as the chase began across the skies, hidden by the heavy clouds above.
Breathless, they stopped running in the town square, just past the Santa grotto and the Christmas tree, some shoppers were looking to the far end of the square as they saw other shoppers running in panic and anxious murmurs began. Parents who saw the fuss were scooping up children and hurrying off towards the road that led to the promenade, keen to get away from the source of the panic.
“How did you do that?” Cherry said as he put his glove back on.
Now his palm looked very human with no sign of the sparks and he was feeling the cold with no trace of the energy left that had reanimated the gargoyle.
“It's said that Ezaroth infuses the reanimated one with her power.. some of it is left inside me...thankfully I remembered how to use it...My memory is definitely coming back!”
They linked hands and walked towards the road that led away from the shops. In the distance crowds were gathering as shops closed down, far away police sirens were wailing and it was obvious that when they got there, the panic caused by the incident would have the shopping centre locked down for the rest of the day. But they were clear of the place now, they had reached the slope and rounded the corner that led back to the museum as the wail of sirens were heard in the distance.
“I remembered!” he repeated with a look of victory shining in his eyes.
“But you still can't remember who killed you,”she said quietly.
His enthusiasm faded out.
“No, not yet...”
They had reached the museum. Cherry unlocked the door and they went back inside, swiftly closing the door on a world that seemed to hold more threats outside than the mere cold could ever muster as they both said nothing but silently wondered if he would remember in time – or pay the ultimate price.
Chapter 8
There was an odd sense of stillness in the museum that reminded Cherry of the sad time when the man she loved had been dead and trapped under glass. Not a sound could be heard but the ticking clock in the entrance as she closed the door behind them, shutting out the winter chill. It was as if peace had instantly descended, the kind of peace that suggested the demoness had not followed them back to this place.
“I don't get it,” she said as she took off her coat and hung it up, then took off her gloves and her hat and paused to run her fingers through fair hair that fell loose and tumbled about her shoulders.
“Get what? That we just got stalked by a creature from hell that wants to rip out my soul?” he hung up his coat beside hers, “Its a demon – it won't be nice or patient, it knows what it wants!”
“So why isn't it here, it must have lost the gargoyle by now?”
He thought of the stone creature the power had animated and shook his head.
“I don't know. It's alive, I guess, because of residual power, something left inside me from the spark of... hell fire, or what ever it was that she used to bring me back. I don't know how long that will last. It will probably wear off soon – I just hope it doesn't land on anyone when it falls from the sky. No one wants to be killed by a random falling gargoyle, what a weird way to go!”
“Maybe we should call Raine Zinck.”
On hearing her suggestion, Drake shook his head.
“You heard what he said before – he doesn't want to get involved. I doubt he would know how to send her back to hell. Did you see the look on his face?”
“He was as scared as us, I'd say that's a normal reaction to sensing a demonic presence!”
“And does that give you any faith in him to sort out this mess?” he asked as anger crept into his voice.
“Maybe? At least he knows what he's dealing with, Drake! He knows more than we do.”
His eyes widened in surprise.
“I've been conducting tours of this place for years!There's not much I don't know about the history of magic!”
“But he practises it! He's a witch, not a tour guide!”
“And I'm the one who
the demoness wants! My life is in the balance and you want to trust some guy who makes money and scores with women over the internet because he talks about the occult and performs minor rituals online?”
“I think he can help us.”
He glared at her.
“No one can help us!” he said sharply, then turned away and went down the corridor that led to the stairway, leaving Cherry alone in the entrance hall.
She joined him in the upper level, finding him in the flat, in the bedroom, sitting on the bed with the curtains closed to block out the view of the darkening skies heavy with snow and the white blank world below it. He looked towards the closed curtains, shivered despite the warmth of the heating and spoke up as she closed the door, without turning his head.
“I seem to feel the cold so much.”
“That's because it's freezing out there, Drake.”
“Maybe it's because I've been dead and soon I'll go back to being dead. Haven't you thought that might be the real reason why?”
Finally he looked around at her.
She said nothing as she joined him and sat down on the bed next to him and took hold of his hand.
“You feel warm to me.”
“Maybe I'm just cold inside. Maybe this back to life thing is temporary anyway – who knows, when it comes to using a demon to bring back a life?”
“That's not what the book says.”
“The book could be half bullshit, Cherry.”
She turned to face him and kept a grip on his hand as she raised her other hand and ran her fingers through his hair.
“Please stop this, Drake. You're alive. Maybe it's the thought that you came back that makes you feel so cold.”
“You're saying it's all in my imagination?”
“Maybe.”
The look in his eyes softened.
“I hope you're right.”