The Pentagram Child: Part 2 (Afterlife Saga Book 5)

by Stephanie Hudson

  I couldn’t fathom for the life of me why they were here or for what purpose they served. A fact I wondered until it brought me to the next inmate…The Drekavac race.

  In Slavic history the Drekavacs were an army of small demons attracted to unbaptized humans and gathered the souls of the unfaithful for their master to feed upon… Deumus Drekavac.

  They fed from their terror as it appeared to them as a ghostly figure of an undead child. What mortals didn’t realise was that in my world they too appeared as a dying children, using the vessels of sick younglings once death was upon them and never healing their new bodies.

  It was still unclear as to why they preferred such a form over that of an adult or why they would never allow their vessel to age. No, instead they simply allowed their child flesh to rot instead of taking care of their host.

  I looked down in distaste at the wasteful vermin that if I had my way, would never be allowed to find solace in the mortal realm. Thankfully Deumus Drekavac had found his demise at the hands of Ragnar’s kin and as much as I loathed that damn Snake Eye Viking, he at least rid me of yet another ‘Marked’ that had been on the extraction list.

  But right now, without its master’s guidance, was the result of a broken Drekavac dying and its desperate need to feed. If someone else stood in my place now and didn’t know the exact nature of what they were looking at as I did, then seeing this small form they would feel only one sentiment and that was pity. In the withering form of a starving child it was unsettling to witness which was a new emotion for me to deal with.

  Before I had been introduced to Keira’s niece Ella, then my interactions with the young mortals had been limited at best. In fact it was a fairer statement to say they had been near none existent, so before now seeing this kind wouldn’t have mattered to me. However now the thought of such a child ever encountering sickness, pain, mistreatment or worse, death, was a difficult emotion to deal with without bringing forth a demon’s rage.

  Actually it caused so much of a reaction in me that I positioned myself over the cell before I could think too closely into my actions.

  “Find your souls release in this act of mercy.” I said before discharging the full length of one of my blades, only to be extended into the Drekavac’s maggot infested skull, putting an instant end to its pitiful existence.

  I frowned in disgust as the blade sank in with little effort and had to wonder how long the creature even had left. Black blood oozed from its eyes and nose, leaving an inky trail along my blade as I pulled it free. I retracted my weapon which left the inside of my wrist dripping with demon blood, one thankfully that was never taken into my vessel. However it did present the problem when battling many a foe that my hands would often be soaked with the blood of my enemies. Well with only my jeans to speak of I had little choice than to smear them with the evidence of what I had done here.

  The next set of cells held a mixture of Mephistopheles, a winged demon with giant tusks from its cheeks. Its mortal vessel was patched together using the torn flesh of its victims, stitched in place using its own hair and wearing each patch with pride like a trophy.

  Also added to the mix was a Rakshasas, said to be an evil spirit in Hindu mythology with shape-shifting abilities. The truth was it was a demon that would keep shedding its vessel once pregnant with a reincarnation of itself. But instead of being given birth to the way a mortal would, it would come into this world by tearing open its vessels mouth, forcing back its jaw until it broke the skull in two, rendering the host useless. This rebirth could only be achieved down here as the Rakshasas could only survive from the raw demonic energy Hell provided in their young form.

  The fifth cell down and with only one more to go finally explained the need for the drainage pits each situated in between the cells. They looked like giant vents and the sight of five dwarfed sized Ukobach demons all held what looked like giant ladles with long arched handles. These lesser inferior demons were not meant for the human realm but sometimes they managed to make it to the surface undetected, which explained why these five were being put to good use.

  Ukobachs made up a large part of Hell’s workforce and were usually sent to work in the castle boiler rooms for the hierarchy of the Underworld. Given their love of extreme levels of heat this suited them nicely, however these scarred five looked as though they had felt the end of their master’s whip a few times before being cast down to the deepest level of Hell.

  To look at them you wouldn’t have thought much strength could be found in their thin skeletal forms but to see them work such fears were quickly eradicated. Wafer pale skin with the texture of asbestos covered most of their bodies and the sparks that spat out at them from behind the grated furnaces were surprisingly protective. They worked in tandem as they spooned black oil into the slots to feed the constant flames but alas I was at a loss to understand what they could be fuelling.

  One looked up at me and I knew from past experience with these demons that all they would see is a vague shadow considering they were almost completely blind. White milky eyes stared at me for a few seconds longer and then turned back to the flames that had caused such blindness. An eternity of staring at the flame would no doubt do that to beings.

  It grunted to the others that also gave me a brief look but I didn’t expect much else. After all, with lips that were pulled up tight and were pierced to their foreheads I wasn’t going to stand around and wait for them to speak.

  However their reaction to me seemed strange. They didn’t usually interact with those outside of their station and that usually meant anyone higher than them. But now it was almost like they were trying to tell me something. This quickly became apparent when a crank turning could be heard and they all looked up at once. I suddenly spotted the deep rooted chains they all now had a tight hold of and swiftly reacted.

  Thankfully I was quick enough in getting out of the way for directly above their cell two halves of a metal door swung open, releasing a downpour of water and flooding their cell in seconds. Even though I had been stood over their cell’s bars and directly under where water now poured from, their purpose hadn’t been to save me from getting wet…as I was to find out.

  The reason for their warnings came as soon as the water touched the core of the furnace, releasing with it bellows of scalding steam. I turned my body at the same time calling forth my wings to shelter behind, igniting my power as protection. I couldn’t afford to waste the strength it took in healing my vessel and with it the irritation of receiving second degree burns wasn’t exactly on my most wanted list right now.

  I stayed hidden until I could no longer hear the water flooding the demons’chamber with my impatience mounting every second. I had heard that time in Tartarus worked differently to the rest of the levels of Hell. That instead of going more slowly it did in fact go more quickly than that of the mortal realm. If I were to guess I would say it had something to do with being closer to the outer core of the earth. That and the 1,430 miles of churning iron and nickel liquid that helped generate the Earth's magnetic field.

  Well whatever it was I was just thankful for it as I had already wasted too much time as it was. I shook the water from my wings and I felt the tingling sensation ripple down my spine as my feathers ruffled up in annoyance. Once I heard the metal trap swing and bolt back into place I turned to the Ukobachs’ cell, walked back to where I had stood and nodded my thanks down at the five. I received a grunt or two from the wet little demons before they started the whole process over again. They started feeding the reignited flames from the oil that had once again started pouring from different holes in the wall of their cell.

  “Last one” I said on a growl as I turned to what was undoubtedly the biggest cell on the prison block. The pit was at least twice the size of the rest and looked by far the deepest. It became clear as to why this was the case as I stepped closer and could hear the unfamiliar sound. It was certainly a fitting prison for such a destructive inmate that was damn sure.

  “A
eolus’ eye…this is going to hurt’ I said shaking my head knowing what needed to be done. Sammael’s form couldn’t be seen and nor would it with that deadly vortex encasing his cell. Summoning an Aeolus eye was similar to dropping a smaller version of a tornado on top of somebody and expecting them to live a life in its centre for the rest of eternity.

  Aeolus, the God of wind and Perses, the god of destruction both were charged by Zeus to create such a force, that the two powers combined were unstoppable to escape and hence this was meant for only the worst prisoners. This he had sent to his brother Hades as a gift to use as punishment to those he had under his charge.

  The outcome to this was what I was now looking at and unfortunately what I had to try and destroy in order to free Sammael.

  It was a force that not only kept one captive but also literally ripped one to pieces if it was touched. This incredible force had the ability to momentarily eradicate flesh and bone one second but then the power to completely reconstruct the whole body the next. The pain of not only being torn apart was inconceivable but then to be put back together was enough to avoid it like one does death.

  It wasn’t only witnessing the Aeolus’ eye in action for the first time that made me reluctant to get to step closer but it was the monster I had to set free that rightfully remained imprisoned inside. I took out the vial of blood and every fibre in my being had to hold back the Demon in me from crushing it and ending this inflicting madness…but then Keira would be lost as there was no healing her from the curse that bastard had set upon her.

  All he had needed to do was whisper a few incantations and gain access to my temple and there was no going back. Oh I could heal her, but it would only be a short fix until the curse would once again take effect. All her old injuries one by one would continue to attack her body over and over until they eventually killed her. And it all started with a cursed necklace ensuring my tie to Tartarus and that massacre in the woods ensuring Keira’s tie to death. That was why I couldn’t just kill the bastard and have done with it.

  I looked up and down the raging twister of destruction to see it rising from the pit now it could feel my presence. It reached up, thinning the taller it got, and resembling that of an upturned tornado as it reached the ceiling.

  I had little idea as to why it felt the need to do this, as there were only two ways of defeating such a force. The first and definitely the less painful was to find the one who summoned the Aeolus’ eye and get them to renounce its need for continued capture. The second, and definitely the most painful was unfortunately the only option I was left with.

  “This better fucking work!” I said gripping the vial tight to my chest and taking a few steps back before doing the unthinkable…

  I jumped.

  I knew I was screaming in an agony I had never felt before but that was the very point of the Aeolus’ eye. To have something created that even the most powerful of demon would experience and that was simple…

  Pain.

  For a higher being that spent lifetime after lifetime living with pain as a foreign concept then this was something else. Pain when felt for the first time was more than just an experience for the body but it was first and foremost imprinted on the human mind as a lesson learnt. My kind didn’t have this as such.

  Yes we could inflict pain on each other indeed but this was done using certain powers the Gods had granted us. No, everyday pain that a mortal would encounter was more of a state of mind for my kind. A way in such that one could protect any damage to its vessel with the draining energy taken to heal it.

  When we fought each other it was more about the damage done to the inner soul we were fighting against. The very nature of what lies beneath the mortal skin and right now, mine was being torn apart. It was as if it started with the unseen seams unravelling quicker than I could heal.

  I looked down at myself and felt my lungs caving in on themselves as my screams overpowered my lungs capacity. I saw my skin shredding away like the wind creates waves of sand over the dunes of the Sahara. My flesh followed creating a red mist to follow my vessel’s hide. I felt my fingers being taken away to nothing but the bone and the vial in my fist rattled against its skeletal cage. Every part of me felt lost and for one fleeting millisecond of weakness I almost prayed for a death in which the torture would end.

  It finally took hearing my own roar of anguish to realise that my ears had been regenerated. I couldn’t decide what pain was worse, that of being torn apart for endless seconds or being put back together again one cell at a time. At some point I fell to my knees and landed on bare bone as the flesh there hadn’t yet reformed. I threw my head back and bellowed my fury up at the centre of the Aeolus’ eye as the rest of my body came back to me.

  When it was all over I knelt there with my bare chest rising like a wild beast that could barely be controlled. I panted, trying in vain to get my body to respond, telling my vessel it once again belonged to me and it was safe.

  “I told you I would live on.” I heard his voice as a sensitive buzz rattling in my ears and this told me not only did I need a minute for my vessel to compose itself but more importantly that…

  Sammael had been right.

  Chapter 48

  Venom of God

  I turned around to find just how Sammael had been spending what was supposed to be his eternal imprisonment and it was a wasted effort when trying not to find pleasure in this. It wasn’t possible for me to stay impartial when it concerned my Electus and I certainly wasn’t going to try now. No, I was happy to see my enemy living what one would call a life not just in Hell, but Hell’s own version of Hell.

  Because for someone like Sammael, simply being sent back to Hell wasn’t enough. However for a small few being banished back down here was punishment enough as they craved the mortal realm and the hidden power it provided some of my kind. But for others being sent here was just like being sent home, one that fulfilled your every need and fed an addiction you were created into yearning.

  I felt nothing but the deepest hatred and loathing for this creature and like I said, I was pleased to see him in the sorry state he was.

  “It was nice of them to provide me with a new body wasn’t it…although, it is a great deal more difficult torturing one of us without one and this charming little place wouldn’t have quite the desired affect if it only had soul matter to tear apart.’ I looked down to where a hunched form sat on the floor, one that was covered by black broken skin. It looked like a combination of melted plastic, bubbled around the edges of the multiple holes that it was riddled with and that of worn damaged leather.

  What I knew to be his wings barely held any weight to the word. The skin was held together by fractured twisted bones and the knuckles were bent at all the wrong angles, so flight would have been impossible. I took this as part of his punishment, being given wings to taunt a prisoner with something they once had but had now been replaced by something so useless.

  Sammael was currently using his to provide a large hooded shelter over his head, so his new form remained a mystery to me. On my next command it became clear why he preferred this position.

  “Look at me!”

  He raised his head a fraction and I could only see one side of his lip curl in resentment.

  “Did you bring my key?” He asked on a snarl.

  “First you will look at me” I demanded once again, flexing my fists to get the blood flowing.

  “As you wish.” And with that he quickly stood and as a result every bone he used cracked and popped with the stilted movement he produced. The way he moved reminded me of not that long ago when motion picture was still in its infancy. That unnatural way in which the actors were captured in a silent movie always seemed more like watching a trapped soul, one that could scream but never be heard.

  I shook the thought from my mind and watched as he painfully unwrapped his wings. The jerked movements were almost robotic and slowly revealed the new face of an old enemy.

  His skin was that of
an old man but strangely without the sight of wrinkles. It had that papery fragility to it often found with age and was marred with liver spots framing his face. He had no hair and his features were gaunt, with hollowed cheeks. A sloped forehead attached straight to what was a nose that was only distinguishable by the two slits I took for nostrils.

  The skin was pulled tight across his face enough to cause his skull’s features to protrude through, looking as though it could tear at any moment. Thin black lips and a pair of blood shot eyes with the pupils slit at the centres stared back at me, as I took in his new appearance.

  I watched as he winced in pain when he extended his wings and at first I thought it was just from the broken twisted way this was accomplished. Then I noticed the change in colour in the Aeolus’ eye getting darker and looking to the sides it soon became clear as to why Sammael had been reluctant to move.

  The tips of his wings were being stripped away as the space given as his cell wasn’t big enough to house his wing span. It made me wonder if this was in fact the reason for his wings disfigurement or was just a cruel part of his punishment after all.

  He stood his ground and even lifted his head when I knew all he wanted to do was fall to his knees in agony. If the very reason for my being here hadn’t been because of his crimes or ones he would soon be committing, I might have respected him for the show of strength. Instead however the sight of his discomfort was a satisfying one indeed.

  I gave him a reluctant nod and he at once folded in his damaged wings, ones that were now considerably more mangled than before. One sat lower at his back than the other and as the tips reformed I could see it start to drag along the floor as he circled me.

  “It is a proud day in Hell when royalty comes to visit” Sammael said as I turned my head to let my demon scowl at the enemy at my back.