The Edward King Series Books 1-3

by Wood, Rick

  A bow even rested in her hair, a sweet smile planted on her smug head.

  Eddie was not fooled.

  “You are not the devil,” Eddie grunted.

  “No,” the girl acknowledged with her sweet, unrelenting, playful tone. “He is busy. I am his messenger.”

  “He sent you?”

  “This is a big night for him, as I’m sure you understand.”

  So it will be tonight… Eddie acknowledged.

  “How have you done this? How have you put all of this into action?”

  “It was simple, really,” the girl boasted. “All we needed was your idiocy and foolishness to play on.”

  Eddie’s knees grew sore digging into the rough cement beneath him, his nails dug into his palms and his teeth grinded. But the idea that he had been tricked into this line of events hurt more than anything.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Honestly, when you came down to hell to save Derek’s soul and you were able to escape – did you really think it would be that easy?”

  “I won that battle, fair and square.”

  The girl burst out laughing. “You think you won against the devil? Please.” Her laughing ceased and expression deadened. “He let you go.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he needed you to fall in love with Kelly. He needed you to keep the one who had suffered close, so that when the time was right, she would be with you. Close to you.”

  Close to me? They are doing the ceremony close to me?

  “I get it, because I have a piece of evil somewhere in me and you needed me for it.”

  “It is more than just a piece of evil now, Edward. You have the devil inside of you.”

  “Oh, shut up, I have heard this enough.”

  “No, you don’t understand. When you came down to hell to fight for Derek’s soul, he let you escape. When he did this, he latched a piece of himself onto your soul. He did this the same way Lamashtu did when you crossed over for the first time as a very young child. And ever since that night, he has been driving you.”

  “Driving me?”

  “Yes. You may have been the vehicle, but he has been behind the steering wheel.”

  It hit him. Flashes of his memory, winding around his mind like a tornado. Pinning the cat to the wall of the shed, the Latin writing, the carcasses strewn around his house… it was him. He had done every bit of it.

  Except, it wasn’t him. It was his hands, yes, but he had played no part.

  But it all made sense. If the devil had a piece of him inside, he wouldn’t want Eddie to know. He would need to keep it secret. So he could bring all this to happen.

  “So why would you tell me this? Why would the devil send you, so I would know that the ritual would be at my house?”

  “Because he needs you there. For the ritual, he needs you there. It would succeed without you, but it would be a far slower process.”

  “Then how does he know I will show? Maybe I’ll get a plane ticket, get as far away as I can.”

  She giggled. “Because he has the one you love. Kelly. And he will kill her, with you there or not. And he knows you would not resist trying to stop it.”

  She was right. He loathed himself for it, but she was right.

  The whole world would not end if he left, but Kelly – she would die. A thought that was unbearable.

  Is this selfish? Should I just let her…

  But the thought didn’t even finish in his mind.

  “Isn’t he afraid I will stop it? Now I know all this?”

  “The devil sent me as a courtesy, because he wishes you to know. If there was anything you could do I wouldn’t be here. It is hopeless. It will all come to be.”

  “But I could stop him. I will stop him.”

  “Edward, you don’t understand. You have no power against him. You are his son.”

  “I am not his son.”

  “By the end of the night, you will be. Once the ritual is complete, that piece inside of you that gives you your powers, the piece the devil has planted a part of him inside you, it will have grown. It will have consumed you. You will no longer be Edward King. You will be his son and you will do his bidding.”

  “No I won’t.”

  “These events have been put into place since you faced Balam on Millennium Night. There is nothing you can do to stop it now. Resistance is futile, you must understand. To fight will only cause more pain.”

  He bowed his head. His hair was drenched to his scalp, in pain from the beating of the sleet, shaking from the cold of the torrential wind. He felt sick. He wanted to fight, he wanted to do everything he could, but in his gut he knew the truth.

  It was over.

  “Take me…” he muttered.

  “Pardon?” the girl smiled, bemused.

  Eddie rose his head and locked eyes with her.

  “Take me. The devil can have me. I’ll fulfil the prophecy. I’ll do it all. Take me now. Just spare Kelly. Spare her and I won’t resist.”

  The girl stepped forward and planted a gentle hand on the side of his face. She crouched down before him, stroking her fingers on the underside of his chin and smiling a lost smile.

  “If you had given us that offer a year ago, we would have taken it.”

  “What?” Eddie faltered.

  “But The Devil’s Three is ready. The ritual is inevitable.”

  “But you can have me!”

  “You don’t see it, Edward.” She leant toward him and whispered in a deep voice that did not match the young, sweet face before him. “Why would the devil have something, when he could have everything?”

  Leaving those words echoing in the air, she disappeared into darkness and was gone.

  Eddie was left on his knees, crying tears into rain.

  All he could do now was fight. Fight, despite it meaning nothing.

  43

  25 July 2002

  The clocked ticked past midnight as Jenny turned and sighed with exasperation.

  Three hours she had been lying there, urging herself to sleep. She didn’t know what it was that was making her so restless, but her insomnia was making her more and more aggravated; which, in turn, made her all the less likely to be able to sleep.

  Something inside her was niggling away. A bad feeling, like something awful was about to happen, keeping her awake.

  Beside her, Lacy lay silently, breathing deeply. She was so beautiful, and Jenny couldn’t help but smile. Lacy was on her side, turned toward Jenny, with her hand draped affectionately over Jenny’s torso.

  Jenny wondered what she was dreaming about, if she was dreaming at all. She loved her so much.

  Deciding she could not stand just lying there, driving herself mad, getting frustrated that she couldn’t shut off her mind, she sat up in bed. Running her hands over her head and through her hair, she paused for a moment, then grabbed her glass and left the room.

  She crept downstairs – Lacy didn’t need waking up because she couldn’t sleep – and tiptoed across to the kitchen.

  Her bare feet felt cold on the tiled floor and it took her a moment to adjust. She kept the light off, using the hazy illumination from the moon outside the window to guide her way to the fridge. Opening the fridge, she withdrew a carton of milk and poured it into her glass.

  She leant against the sink, motionless, cradling the glass in her hand. Out the window, the weather was attacking their garden. Rain pelted down like a meteor shower, wind throwing the leaves on the trees to the side and thunder echoing in the distance.

  It was like the weather was somehow mirroring her uncertainty. Whatever was keeping her awake, she couldn’t figure it out.

  Then, almost as if answering her question, the phone rang. With a glance at the clock, she wondered who would be ringing at this time.

  She picked up the receiver and held it to her ear, flinching at first as it felt cold.

  “Hello?”

  Silence. The line crackled and spewed discordance.

 
“Hello?” she prompted again.

  “… Jenny,” came a feeble voice.

  She recognised her best friend’s voice straight away.

  “Eddie?”

  “… Jenny … I …” he stuttered.

  “Eddie, is everything okay?”

  Eddie didn’t reply. She could almost hear him thinking, mulling over issues sitting prominently in his mind.

  The faint sound of sobbing mixed with the cracking of the line.

  “Eddie, what is going on?”

  “Jenny, you… you’ve been my best friend my whole life.”

  “I have. What’s going on?”

  “I just wanted to say…”

  He trailed off into static. Jenny’s arms shook. Something was wrong.

  “Eddie, please tell me what is going on?”

  “I just wanted to tell you, whatever happens… I love you. And I’m grateful for all you’ve done.”

  “Eddie, what –”

  She had no time to ask the question before the line went dead and she was presented with the numbing sound of the dial tone.

  Something was wrong. He sounded practically dead. His voice was despondent, reluctant.

  The bad feeling in her gut keeping her awake miraculously explained itself.

  In a burst of energy, she ran up the stairs, stomping on each step in hope of waking Lacy, and burst into the bedroom.

  “Lacy, wake up.” She shoved her partner.

  “What?” Lacy fumbled, her eyes fluttering hazily.

  “You need to get up, something’s wrong with Eddie.”

  “Huh?” Lacy leant up and looked around the room, looking at the clock and sighing. “What is going on?”

  “It’s Eddie,” Jenny answered, her serious tone sending chills through Lacy and waking her instantly. “We need to go.”

  Jenny changed into a t-shirt and jeans within seconds, dumping her pyjamas on the floor and shoving a pile of clothes at Lacy.

  “What’s happened to him?” Lacy stuttered, climbing out of bed without full awareness of what her tired mind was doing.

  “Lacy, please hurry up.”

  Jenny’s eyes filled with tears and she didn’t need to say another word to show Lacy she was serious.

  44

  Eddie’s watch read 2.32 a.m.

  His palms were sweaty. A sickening feeling spewed around his stomach. His legs were jelly, wobbling and buckling under the pressure.

  The weather hit him with a ferocious punch, rain and sleet battering against him, scolding his face. Dark clouds loomed above, thunder rang out and lightening seized a blinding flash in the distance.

  Before him stood his house. The home he and Kelly had made for themselves. The place they had paid a deposit for with joyous optimism and passion for each other. A place full of photographs displaying memories. A place warmed by heating and love. A place where they had truly fallen in love.

  A place that would be the setting of the coming of the antichrist.

  There was nothing more he could do now but fight. Fight what, he didn’t know; but whatever came, he would put up a barricade and resist with everything he had.

  His powers could become useless, his detriment could fall and his integrity could be destroyed.

  But as long as he could, he would stand between this world and the one that claimed he was Eddie’s true father.

  Yet, as he stood there preparing his resistance, willing strength to his heart and protection to his soul, he found himself twitching.

  His fingers at first, then the pain seized up through his arm and triggered his elbows to flinch.

  His heart thumped and he felt his legs overcome, his face stiffen and frozen ice seep through him like cyanide.

  He was not in control.

  That thing inside of him, those powers, this ‘gift’ – it spread into his bones, into his muscles, consuming his blood.

  That thing he felt inside of him, that resistance he could access when fighting any demon, grew stronger. It felt like a happy illness. It shook his body. It took him over.

  He willed his feet not to move but they moved nonetheless.

  He rigidly stepped forward with straightened legs. Feeling like a piece of artificial intelligence, sitting in the backseat of his mind, he lifted his hand forward and unlocked the front door to his house.

  He crossed the threshold, intentionally leaving the door open.

  He cried, but nothing came out. His tears were blanks firing out of a broken cannon. He felt his muscles move, his bones twinge, but he was doing none of it.

  “Edward…” came the whispers of his mind.

  Opening a drawer in the kitchen, he found a large piece of rope, ankle restraints, and handcuffs.

  How the fuck did they get there…

  He had never owned such things, never mind had them to hand in a kitchen drawer he accessed most days.

  Then he remembered.

  He had put them there.

  Except, he hadn’t. His hands had, but his mind had been absent.

  The image came around in a flash. His hands below him placing the rope in, barely visible through the pitch-black of night.

  Everything the devil had planned had come to pass.

  With his spare arm, he took a wooden chair from the kitchen and carried it into the living room. A more open space was needed. The living room would be the perfect setting.

  We can do it here.

  He sat on the chair, pausing for a moment, his eyes deadened on the door before him. The draft from the front door was reaching around the hallway and grabbing him.

  He shook. Through fear, cold, or simply being out of control of his own body, he did not know.

  He mechanically reached his hands down with robotic perfection. He lifted the ankle restraints in his hand. He placed one metallic circle around his left ankle, looped the chain behind the chair legs and fastened his right ankle in.

  Tightening them until they were painfully constricted, he turned the key in the lock. He lifted the key in his hands and threw it out of the room.

  Nothing made sense. Gut full of hatred, heart full of malice, he felt anger exuding out of him.

  He was turning. The ritual hadn’t even started yet and already he was on his way.

  He placed the handcuffs around his wrists and looped them through the back of the chair. The key flew into the air of its own accord and disappeared around the corner of the hallway.

  He was secure.

  With an abrupt wave of euphoria that felt like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over him, he came around.

  His consciousness came to. He felt himself again. He was in control.

  Except, he couldn’t move. He banged his ankles side to side and pulled at his handcuffs. They were wrapped around his bones in a painful grip and he wasn’t going anywhere.

  The sound of the front door slamming shut coincided with a strike of lightning. Faint voices grew louder and footsteps approached.

  Bandile appeared around the corner, wearing that same grin.

  That same fucking grin.

  Eddie’s eyes narrowed, and every bit of anger reached his face, directed at the bastard in front of him.

  “Hello, Eddie,” Bandile greeted him.

  Picking up the rope Eddie had left beside his feet, Bandile tied it around Eddie’s torso repeatedly until all of Eddie’s movement was completely constricted.

  Eddie looked Bandile in the eyes.

  “If I ever get out of this,” Eddie spat, “I will kill you, you sick fucking bastard.”

  “Edward,” Bandile replied soothingly. “You will not be getting out of this.”

  Tightening the last knot of the rope, Bandile stood, shouting around the corner, “We’re ready!”

  Anna appeared first. Floating. Levitating through the air, across the room. Her face was a veiny mess, blue and grey, with scabs peeling off.

  She fell to the ground behind Eddie.

  Next appeared a man Eddie barely recognised at first, t
hen recoiled in horror to see.

  Jason Aslan. The man whose head had been removed in front of him.

  “How the…” Eddie stuttered.

  His question didn’t last long as his heart filled with pain. Jason’s hand gripped over the hair of Kelly.

  She too was in ankle restraints, handcuffs, and rope, unable to move, completely immobile. Being dragged across the room by Jason, a fistful of hair in his hand, Kelly’s hoarse voice barely able to scream out in terror any longer.

  Eddie cried. It was all he could do. Weeping tears of anger down his face.

  He couldn’t move. He couldn’t do a damn thing to help her. He was useless.

  She couldn’t even look at him.

  Jason dumped her beside Eddie’s feet and took his position next to Eddie.

  Bandile collected a bin bag from the side of the door and poured the contents over Kelly. Numerous dead animals, gutted, slit, ripped apart, fell over her.

  She gagged and threw up. The stench was unbearable. The blood fell off them and dripped down Kelly’s chin.

  Bandile took his place, completing the triangle surrounding Eddie and Kelly.

  “Are we ready?” he asked.

  Jason nodded.

  Anna nodded.

  “Excellent,” he confirmed.

  He grinned at Eddie.

  “Then we shall begin.”

  45

  “Diabolus enim accersam te,” Bandile whispered in a low, hushed voice. “Diabolus enim accersam te. Diabolus enim accersam te.”

  Eddie didn’t know Latin well. But he recognised those words. He had come across the words ‘devil’ and ‘summon’ enough to understand when they were being spoken.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Eddie announced.

  “Diabolus enim accersam te. Diabolus enim accersam te.”

  “Whatever the devil has offered you, it isn’t worth it,” Eddie assured.

  “Devil, please take this offering. Please grant us your presence, tell us we are worthy.”

  Bandile grabbed Kelly by the hair and lifted her up.

  “No, please, don’t!” Eddie cried out.

  Bandile snarled at Eddie.

  “Don’t fucking touch her!” he screamed over the sound of the rain thrashing the windows.