Demon's Dream

by Laura Hawks

  Striding over to the dejected demon, Mel bent down and whispered softly, “I admire your tenacity for maintaining your honor in not revealing whose orders you’re following but your loyalty is ill-placed. I will find out. I do however, apologize for the torment I’m putting you through when it’s quite obvious you’re not the mastermind behind this scheme, only a pawn.”

  Standing erect, Mel left the room as he sent in a guard to keep an eye on the prisoner while he did some research which would hopefully be able to break those barriers Mani had successfully erected.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Leaning back in his plush executive red leather chair, Mel steepled his fingers in front of his mouth as he pondered the reports that were compiled before him. Mani’s whole existence was laid out for easy, detailed viewing and yet, he felt sure something was missing. What in the multi-verse could possibly cause such loyalty from one with such a strong sense of morality? Mani was protecting someone but why? What caused such fidelity, Mani would suffer wordlessly for a punishment he didn’t, in all truth, fully deserve? There had to be something in those reports which would indicate the need for such devotion. Whatever it was, Mel was apparently oblivious to it.

  Of course, it also didn’t help that reports on Clarissa were within his peripheral vision. She had been attacked almost daily by some type of demon or other, some of which he thought were long since extinct. The attacks were too orchestrated to be random. Whoever was doing this was well aware where the stone was and worse- who had it. They were relentless in trying to eliminate the Guardian for the prize of the most powerful gem the universe had ever seen created.

  Mel cursed at the thought such a position had been advocated which created an artifact of extreme immense power it would be sought after by any preternatural creature over the age of two hundred. Any of those who breathed would sense the vibrations of the gem calling to them. However, there was something else going on here as well. The attacks were too concentrated, too coordinated. No. Obviously there was a mastermind who was keeping tabs on the gem and making sure they wore the Guardian down in their attempts to retrieve it without surrendering their hand of anonymity.

  Mel’s eyes darted between the two stacks of reports. What was the connection? Who was Mani protecting? Once Mel discovered that tidbit of information then the rest would fall in place. It was blatantly discernible whomever was behind Clarissa’s constant assaults was also the originator of her displacement to another realm. Mani’s attempt to eradicate the Guardian of the stone was but the first endeavor to remove the protector and acquire the artifact.

  As Mel pondered the stacks of informative materials, his mind delved into thinking more about the blond haired beauty which one pile educated him. He knew she had been dealing relentlessly with demon attacks and it infuriated him he was unable to interfere in any way by coming to her aid. Of course, after he literally kicked her out of his home, he doubted very much if she even wanted to see him again, at least without a sword in her hand which was pressed up against his throat. He had to admit, that sudden thought brought a smile to his face. She certainly was courageous and full of spunk if nothing else. As he began to feel warmer thinking about her, he shifted slightly to relieve the ache that suddenly built in his groin.

  He growled as he realized giving into thoughts of her did nothing but make him regret further she was no longer with him. He was still confused as to how she managed to touch some deep recessed part of him that craved her. Had he learned nothing from his own disgusting past? Had he forgotten how he was betrayed so brutally that he stopped trusting everyone and relied only on himself?

  Standing, he moved to the bureau and poured himself a drink. Sipping it, he let himself remember what he had not thought about in centuries, instead of burying it deep within the recesses of his mind, along with all the other shit he didn’t wish to recollect.

  The memories hit him like a ton of bricks once he allowed himself to think about them. He downed his drink and quickly poured another as he moved to stare out the window, reminiscing.

  He had carried the demon shoved within his body as a punishment that he never deserved for five years at that point. Each day had been a battle to keep it under some form of control or other, dreading the pain of it tearing through his body to get free whenever he was too tired to continue the fight. He detested when he lost and the destruction the demon wrought in its path whenever it was free of his host.

  He had been on his own struggling since his trial and being inseminated with the demon. So imagine his surprise when his mother, Beloitah, the Goddess of Evil sent a message she wanted to see her son. He had not seen his family since the day in the woods when he was condemned by Nana, which was where she desired to convene. His mother. He remembered how excited he was she called to him. He couldn’t wait to see her and hurried to the rendezvous point.

  When he climbed the slight hill overlooking the clearing, Mel recognized her immediately. She stood facing away from him. Her pale deer skin dress with fringes at the hem blew softly in the breeze. Her long black hair was braided on one side with a feather hanging from the braid while the rest of her hair billowed gently about her features.

  As if sensing his presence, she turned around and faced him, awaiting his approach. He moved towards her slowly, admiring her beauty. Tanned skin glowed with an inner light, her doe brown eyes with hints of yellow flecks sparkled with the sunlight. Her natural ruby lips smiled up at him. She appeared glad to see him and Mel’s heart swelled with love and joy at seeing his mother. He ran the rest of the way down to her and caught her in a tight embrace. What he couldn’t seem to remember was if she hugged him back or not. As often as he thought of that moment during the following days, he just couldn’t recollect that action from her or not.

  Regardless, he will never, in a million life times, forget what occurred next. Mel was jerked away from his mother’s embrace as several demon men shimmered into existence. He didn’t recognize the dozen which instantly surrounded and restrained him. At first he struggled, trying to break free of their embrace before he gazed up and frowned at his mother.

  “Mom? What is going on?”

  Her entire visage had changed. She wasn’t the Goddess of Evil for nothing and when she desired, the beauty which was so prominent just a moment ago altered with just enough undercurrent one could notice the coldness which now seeped through every pore of her.

  Beloitah grimaced, showing off pointed and serrated fangs that slipped past her lips as if growing before their eyes.

  “Did you really think just because you’re my son, I would let you take over my position? Did you truly believe I would just surrender without a fight? How naive can you possibly be?”

  Azamel sagged against the minions that held him. He didn’t understand what she was saying. He didn’t want to rule evil. He hated the evil that was within him, the demon that made him do things he had little or no knowledge or control over. Was this what upset his mother? This demon he had been punished to carry for eternity causing mayhem and destruction on its own?

  As if in answer to his unspoken thoughts, Beloitah gave a single curt nod.

  “You have had five years to control your beast and yet it controls you. Five years to prove you’re stronger and worthy for the title which you bear of being a demon hunter, when you, yourself cannot manage the demon within. I won’t allow you to cause terror and horror to others when that’s my pleasurable position and I’m certainly not willing to give it up nor share it with the likes of you.”

  “Mom!” Mel pleaded. “I don’t want your position. I’m trying to control my beast and not let it rule me. I have had more successes than losses. Please, mother. I’ll be better. I’ll work diligently at improving my control. Give me a chance to prove this to you.”

  “I have. You had five years’ worth of chances and have shown no amelioration.”

  Beloitah turned towards her minions.

  “Make sure he suffers painfully as you tear him to shreds. Wh
en he is dead, call me to see his lifeless body. I will not tolerate his existence any longer.”

  She began to move past them as the demon sycophants began to claw and pull at Mel. He struggled against them, fighting to not release his own inner devil even though he felt the beginnings of the change from his beast. His eyes glowing red with an inner ferocity that he struggled to maintain control of.

  “I’m your son! Does that not account for anything?” Mel growled low, his voice demonically reverberated throughout the wooded clearing.

  Beloitah laughed, the sound mirthless and cold. “My son died in this very spot five years ago. You’re an abomination and I will not abide your existence any longer.” She said with asperity.

  Azamel was stunned. His own mother, whom he loved and worshiped, shunned him. She ordered his death and an excruciating one at that. Mel roared, his malignant spirit clawing to be released and for once, Mel was happy to oblige his vicious monster. He willingly endured the pain of his body, for his heart was already torn asunder, the demon clawed its way out of Mel’s body. In the past, because Azamel usually fought the creature’s release, he suffered far more than he did that time. The inner demon was welcomed to emerge, to be free and slaughter, so he did not bother with torturing Azamel in the process. Tearing open Mel’s back from the inside out, the creature emerged as if from a womb in a huge C-section. The hellion unfolded its massive frame, taking a moment to enjoy stretching its otherwise cramped appendages in its freedom.

  Large and imposing, the creature was a dark blood red with luminescent yellow eyes. He turned his head casually at the demon spawn who held what remained of Mel’s motionless, bloodied body and snarled in a way that sent chills through even them.

  “I am Destruction. Know my name for it will be the last you will learn before you succumb to me.”

  Beloitah turned and gaped at the monstrous hellion which egressed from within Azamel. Narrowing her eyes, she took a step back and waited for her minions to deal with the behemoth. Azamel’s demon reached out and grabbed two of her companions by the throat, ripping their heads off as if he were squeezing overripe lemons. The blood splattered everywhere, casting its stream in all directions. Before the other demons could dematerialize, they were caught within the hellion’s snare, torn, shredded, beheaded or had their hearts ripped out so fast Beloitah’s sycophants didn’t stand a chance.

  Destruction’s yellow gaze fell upon her and even she had to cringe for the briefest of moments.

  She was the Goddess of evil. She would be damned if she let this creature get the better of her as easily as it did her minions. She sent a bolt of electrical power to the beast and was amazed he seemed to absorb it. His eyes appeared to glow in their intensity as Destruction held his hands out and sent a blast just as powerful back to her, causing her to stumble backwards slightly. Quickly, she regained her footing and sent a volley of fireballs towards him. Destruction moved in the blink of an eye before the fireballs reached him, only to appear behind her. Wrapping his arm around her neck, he lifted her off her feet as he growled low in her ear.

  “You may have the host fooled but you will never get the better of me.”

  Destruction then tossed her into the trees as if she were but a stone tossed into a lake. Slowly he stalked towards her again, needing, wanting to finish the job for the pain she wrought in his host.

  Azamel writhed on the ground, his back shredded, blood seeped about his body. He was alert, aware of the damage Destruction brought to the demons who tried to cause him harm and in truth, he cared less they were dispatched so quickly, easily and efficiently. However, his mother, the bitch of a traitor who birthed him, was another matter entirely. He was still stunned at her cold demeanor towards him and how casually she could order his death like she was ordering venison stew from the tribal cooks.

  Azamel wanted to see her suffer as she made him feel the agony of her rejection. Destruction reached her and grabbed for Beloitah again but she used her Goddess abilities to increase her blow to his chin. His head snapped to the side with her punch, which otherwise barely affected him. He returned the action with one of his own, her head mirroring his movement. She wiped at her bloodied lip and conjured a blade to thrust at him. He side stepped it, grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him, his hot rancid breath on her features.

  “Is this really the best you got? How did you ever get the title of a Goddess of evil? You’re puny and insignificant.”

  Beloitah narrowed her eyes.

  “Puny and insignificant? How dare you compare me to yourself!”

  She twisted her wrist in such a way that her palm was against his body. Sending a high energy blast through her hand, he was flown back into the nearby lake, the splash of water sending spouts thirty feet into the air. Even she had to chuckle at the visual but her mirth was short lived. She waited for Destruction to get back on solid ground then knelt down and touched her palm on the earth. The land shook violently. A deep fissure opened and swallowed Destruction. She then quickly resealed the soil to look as if it had never been disturbed. Walking over to Azamel with a dagger she conjured, she was about ready to plunge the silver razor sharp blade into Azamel’s heart when she was tossed back off of her feet, landing a short distance away.

  Destruction arose from the undisturbed ground, a spirit moving through the air from the depth of the soil. A black haze rose with him, its adumbrated tendrils wafted towards Beloitah. The filaments wrapped about the Goddess as she was caught by surprise, momentarily stunned. However, the web it tried to create stopped suddenly from advancing as Beloitah let it lift and surround her. She smiled evilly, drinking in the power it tried to deplete.

  “You really should know your enemy better if you plan on trying to kill them.”

  Beloitah let the wisps of black cloud pull around her tighter, wearing it like a clinging dress. Her eyes went solid black. She opened her mouth and the ebony mists emanated from the orifice directed straight at Destruction.

  His yellow eyes shifted to a bright red as they opened wide in surprise. “Oh, fuck me.”

  The dark murky cloud sped towards him, enveloping him in his own substance squeezing the very life out of him. Destruction was lost within the cloud, a strangled cry emerged and Beloitah grinned.

  “Don’t fuck with a Goddess,” she murmured softly.

  She was about to turn and leave when her attention was caught by the red light which pierced the thick darkness concealing Destruction. Her eyes narrowed as the light became brighter and in moments it shattered the mist which clung like a heavy drape around the demon.

  Now free, Destruction wasn’t a happy camper. His previous red eyes were now a black to match her own. He was upon her in a heartbeat. His long, talon like claws wrapped around her throat. Beloitah turned and flipped him over her shoulder. She wouldn’t be taken down so easily, especially by a demon, even if he was a high-level one. Once she had him on the ground, she twisted his arm until she heard the audible crack of a broken bone. She continued to crush his hand with her own as she glared at him.

  Destruction remained still, his arm and hand in excruciating agony. As Beloitah bent down to put her hand on his heart to pull it from his chest, he grabbed her hand with his good appendage and flipped her onto her back as he rolled on top of her, pinning her to the ground. His broken arm hung loosely at his side but he only needed one good arm to exact his revenge. His hand on her throat, he let his black eyes pierce her own, starring deep into them and touching her very soul.

  She could feel icy fingers probing and winding through her mind, tightening on the pressure points behind her eyes. It was worse than a migraine humans constantly complained about as she struggled to breathe and focus beyond the intense pounding in her head. She felt like her head was about to explode around her and wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t a possibility. She pushed against him, trying to dislodge him from her pinned body. The distress she was feeling within her brain was unbearable and her black eyes changed to a dull silver bl
ue. She continued to fight and struggle against him but she was losing. Beloitah screamed, an eerie sound that crawled through every pore of any within earshot as her whole body shook so hard it burst into a huge puff of dust.

  Destruction sat back and roared. His cries mingled with Azamel’s mournful bellows. They both knew the Goddess wouldn’t be gone forever but she would be immobilized for a few centuries and when she did reassemble, they would be so much stronger and more secure in their position that she would never again try and assassinate either of them.

  The shattered glass brought Mel back from his reverie as the amber liquid mixed with the shards of the broken crystal were sprinkled onto the oriental carpet. He was unconcerned with the fragments scattered about the floor as he looked at his bloodied hand. He ignored the minor inconvenience of the laceration as he used his powers to clean up the mess. He also materialized a towel to wrap around his hand once he was sure all the pieces of glass were removed.

  As he finished cleaning up, something he read in one of the files occurred to him. He pulled the folders about Mani back out and quickly skimmed them until he found what he was looking for.

  ‘Well, fuck me sideways,’ Mel thought as he realized what it was that had been eluding him so annoyingly. Smiling triumphantly, he turned and called for Shara. He had work to do.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Clarissa hunched low in the darken shadows. She knew she was being hunted. Hell, nowadays, it was a miracle if she wasn’t. It was fine with her though. It kept her busy, helped her hone her growing powers. Who cared if she was a solitary figure, isolated and had been on the run for the past few months. Somehow she had become a demon magnet for every creature who wanted to obtain the power of the stone. Since she had returned from the Hell Realm, she had no chance to secure a secret location for the other half of the gem stone and the demons seemed to know it. Without being properly hidden ethereally as well as physically, it resonated throughout the realms as to its very existence.