The Trilogy of the Void: The Complete Boxed Set

by Peter Meredith

  "I know where the path lays." Ba'al Fie-ere stepped into their light. Talitha and the demon glowered at each other.

  "The demon is composed of nothing but deceit. We cannot listen to it." Talitha cautioned.

  "Then none of you will return to the world. Is that what you want?" They were silent and the demon continued, "I am offering you a choice, no tricks. I will see that Talitha is freed...but I will have your soul and that of the girl as payment."

  Talitha shook her head as if to say, no.

  Jim said, "I can feel the power of the life in me, I can hold out against these creatures."

  "But for how long? Not very I surmise and then what would you do? I have seen the power of the Word and it cannot be denied, but it is not limitless. Do you feel what is behind these shadow creatures? It is the Tyrant. He learned from his mistake the last time and he is waiting for you to do battle and when you are weak...he will take all your souls."

  "If what you say is true then in good faith, show us where the path lays," Talitha said and Jim could see her plotting, but Ba'al Fie-ere was cunning and he worried that this was a trick of the demon's to ensnare all them.

  "Talitha, please, no," Jim pleaded. "I'm willing to give my soul to save you, as I have vowed, but there has to be another way." Still Talitha wanted to see the path for herself, and she took his hand and followed after the demon, with Terry and the gypsy in tow.

  As they travelled, the horde of demons kept pace, and some of the greater ones darted in, attempting to carry Terry off. She did nothing to defend herself save move closer to Jim, which had him puzzled.

  "I feel the power of the word in me, but it is not in Talitha or Terry, or even the gypsy, why?"

  "These two came into the void kicking and screaming, forced against their will," the demon answered pointing at the gypsy and Terry. "And Talitha came only because she was connected through the demon by their battle of wills, but you had a choice and you came with love in your heart."

  "Speak no more to her," Talitha warned him. "She is too great a liar."

  The demon, Ba'al Fie-ere gave her a patient look. "I only lie for a purpose and I only tell the truth for the same reason. I seek what benefits me. Helping you benefits me. I will receive two souls where I would have none. You will see." She was silent for the rest of the journey and they did see.

  The path, red against the black was held against them by battalions of loathsome creatures and still more demons crowded in their wake. Hopelessness began to fill Jim's heart and when Ba'al Fie-ere saw this, she fretted.

  "Do not despair! It will eat at your heart and weaken you, and then these Ghushkaz will have you... all of you. Know that you will save your beloved." Jim nodded and kept his eyes on Talitha. Her nearness swelled his heart and made him feel strong again.

  Ba'al Fie-ere then turned to Talitha. "Do you see now, sister? Jim may be able to defeat these creatures for a time, but the power of the Word will ebb and then he will fall to the Tyrant and all will be lost. You know I am not lying about that."

  Talitha nodded grimly, seeing the truth of the demon's words and Ba'al Fie-ere went on, "You would be fools to trust me, but I can trust you. So I will save Talitha first, if Jim will give me his word to come with me willingly and be my slave."

  Jim did not hesitate, "I promise." Talitha was silent and he could see her mind working at their problem, but he knew there was no solution, but this one.

  "I don't make that promise," Terry cried. "Take me instead!" She rushed to the demon, but Ba'al Fie-ere threw her down and stepped upon her carelessly.

  "We must hurry," the demon said, as she pressed harder onto Terry.

  Talitha grew angry at this. "Stop. I will not go with you. Take the girl in my stead."

  Before Jim could speak the demon replied, "I can't. As much as I want you here, I can't. You are the only that I can save, watch." She stepped toward Talitha, who stood firm, showing no fear, but then Ba'al Fie-ere stepped into Talitha and they merged as if one, black, deadly and beautiful.

  She then stepped away again. "You see now? I will take her with me through the ranks of Ghushkaz opposing you and release her at the gate. And when I get back, you will send forth the power of the word. This will disrupt much of the void near to us and in the confusion, I will cloak us in darkness and take you and Terry with me. I will leave this one here to attract the attention of Ba'al Zubel," she said referring to the gypsy.

  Jim's heart wavered at first, but he pictured Talitha stepping into the light, smiling and happy at long last. Talitha seemed also to finally recognize that this was their only option and she began to cry, her tears were white pearls, and they grew larger as they fell from her cheeks.

  The demon, Ba'al Fie-ere, eyed them hungrily and laid out a part of her, to catch them.

  Jim kissed a tear of Talitha's from her cheek, it was of pure water, and it washed the oily black fear from his lips, so that now he kissed her truly. His heart swelled even greater with love, but hers swelled in sadness and he rebuked her then and told her to find love in the world.

  "It's time, we must hurry," the demon said with urgency and handed the tears she had collected to Jim. "If the demons gather to close, throw one of these at them, but do not waste them!"

  Jim gave Talitha a final look and the demon merged with the girl and took her. He watched them a long while and saw that they indeed passed through the formation, unhindered and made their way along the path. Finally, from a great distance a light came to him that he recognized, it was Talitha and she paused for only a second before slipping out of the void.

  He felt the void become less at her passing.

  The void, when Jim first entered it seemed like a huge thing; endless, but he realized then that it was actually a very small lonely place. Terry grabbed at his arm and had been for some time and finally he looked around to see the swarms drawing near and so he tossed one of the tears, which had swollen to a great size.

  He thought it might act as a weapon and explode, but it didn't. It only bounced against the nothing of the void, and as it did, the demons, all of them near to the ball, charged after it and fought for it. He was forced to do this over and over and he had just two left when Ba'al Fie-ere returned with a triumphant look lighting her evil features.

  "I have done my part, it's time for you to do yours. Release the word on these fiends." She was dark and beautiful, so much like his Talitha that Jim hesitated a second.

  "Tell me who I am first," he ordered the demon.

  "My slave," was her response and her eye gleamed—until she saw that his did as well.

  Epilogue

  When Jim killed the gypsy, the change in the room occurred as if a switch had been thrown and Will's first act was to cast an eye on the great hideous column of smoke, curious to see what would happen.

  It was far from dramatic.

  The smoke simply dissipated. It eddied about as if in confusion for a moment and then drifted away, leaving behind a black sludge, pooled upon the floor.

  The change in the creature that had once been Luke was also far from spectacular. It just stopped moving, froze in place for a second, still staring at Will with its sightless glassy eyes and then it toppled over and didn't again stir.

  With that, a warm breeze, at least warmer than the frozen room, drifted in and Will felt his hearing pop back to normal and he could now perceive the small sounds of the room; the snapping of the fire, the steady dripping of rain water cascading down from the partially destroyed roof, his own labored breathing.

  For seconds nothing happened and he looked around him dazedly; Talitha knelt with her hands to the sides of her head, Terry lay as dead looking as she had when they first saw her and Jim lay across the body of the gypsy. His body's position looked strange to Will, who got up and went to him.

  Jim was dead.

  Will pulled him off of the gypsy, heaving him over, despite the pain flaring throughout his chest and felt at the man's throat for a pulse. He knew there wouldn't be one, b
ut he checked anyways.

  Suddenly he heard a great sob from Talitha and he saw her running, in a staggering drunken manner toward him. She pushed Will aside with considerable force and threw herself on top of the man's huge chest and cried many tears.

  She wept for a long time and was at first inconsolable, but at length, when Will finally got up to check on Terry, she wiped at her face and said with heavy bitterness, "Don't bother, she's dead too."

  "What happened?" he asked, and from her empty look he didn't figure he would get an answer, but she described everything she had seen, crying constant tears as she did. When she had finished, Will felt such complete exhaustion that he could have slept there on the fading ice.

  "What did we come here for? Everyone we've tried to save has ended up dying," he said dismally.

  "I've been saved, twice." Talitha whispered and then bent to Jim's lips and kissed him gently, before she stood. She eyed Will with red-rimmed eyes that held a mixture of relief and sadness. "I'm glad you didn't die...when I shot you that is. I aimed for the cross, but I had no way of knowing if it would stop the bullet or not."

  Will touched his chest, gingerly, realizing only then what had happened. The pain of the gunshot had been like a fire in his chest, but what Ba'al Zubel had done to him had dwarfed it to such an extent, that only now was he truly feeling it. He took a deep breath in and felt the pain radiating throughout his bones and muscles, it hurt, but he also felt strangely comforted by the pain. It meant he was alive.

  "I'm glad I didn't die as well and I'm glad you didn't either. But what about the other Talitha? Is she gone...for good? Can you feel her at all, inside you?" Will felt as if he was on the verge of passing out and swayed as he spoke, but he needed to know.

  "She's gone all right, thank you for that. I feel so alive, but poor Jim..." Talitha cried again and he went to her, holding her until he began to reel on his feet. She kept him steady and gave him a sharp look through her tears. "Are you ok? I've never seen anyone so exhausted looking.

  "I don't know what I'm feeling," he answered and his head began to swim. He lurched over then and she held him up.

  "I'm going to take you back to the hotel. In the morning we'll figure out what to do." She gestured to the grim room and the four bodies.

  Will remembered none of the details of the next twenty minutes, other than his sister getting him back to the hotel and putting him in bed. His only thought now was to call Lisa and tell her that he loved her, but the clock read 3:32 am, and he didn't want to wake her, so he slept.

  It was a deep sleep, unmarred by dreams, or even worry and it was with a far lighter heart that he woke with light shining into the room. Talitha lay asleep in the next bed and he smiled seeing the great black mess she had made of the sheets from the soot that covered her clothing. Since he hadn't bothered to undress either his own bed was a mess as well.

  He went to let out a long sigh of relief, but his chest throbbed and he cut it short. Slipping out of the bed, he went to call his wife, but just as he did he realized that Talitha was asleep. She had slept and he hadn't had any dreams.

  He should have been elated, instead he felt a sudden coldness sweep over him. A fear like a dagger drove into him and he was suddenly sure that she was dead in the bed beside his. His fear, a metallic taste in his mouth, mounted quickly within him as he hurried over to her, but just then she snorted in her sleep.

  He jumped at the sound and then leaned back, smiling for a moment. Shaking his head in amazement at how quickly his fear had exploded inside him, he turned back and went into the adjoining room. Ignoring the overturned lamps, chairs, and desk, he called his wife and as he waited for her to answer, he raised his hand and saw it shaking, he still had the fear.

  "Hello, Will."

  The voice coming out of the phone wasn't his wife's.

  The End

  An Illusion of Hell is dedicated to my wife Stacy. She is all over the pages of this book.

  *

  Hell Blade: The Trilogy of the Void Book Three, the story continues:

  And he lived happily ever after. For just the briefest time Will Jern thought there could be a chance at the perfect fairy tale ending, but then he discovers there's a stranger in his home and that his wife is being held captive by a witch bent on vengeance and who is desperately in need of a soul.

  And she lived happily ever after. For Talitha Jern it will never happen. When her demon was banished back to the Void, it left behind the gift that keeps on giving: memories. Her mind now rings with the screams of those her evil side tortured and her hands bear the scent of their blood. Soon she can't tell which memories are of her making and which came from the demon. It's enough to drive a person crazy.

  And they all lived happily ever after. Not for a moment did Katie Jern believe this; she knew her family was good and cursed. At the age of six she saw the demon and peered with innocent eyes through the gate unto Hell. Those eyes are innocent no more. They are guarded lest anyone can look past her perky features and see the raging paranoia beneath. But at least she gets the answer to the question that all paranoids ask: Am I paranoid enough?

  Not nearly.

  Hell Blade

  Prologue

  As her father had once done, the blonde was out of the house by six in the morning, putting the road through its paces. The black top was cool that early and it was some time before the sweat started to work its way from the pores of her wonderfully tanned skin. After eight years in the desert, she sported an Arizona bronze throughout even the deepest days of winter.

  Not that they ever had real winter in that state. More like a few weeks where she switched out her ever-present shorts for a comfortable pair of loose jeans. Always loose—so she could move. Nothing bothered her more than being constricted, or bound.

  A stray breeze left over from the cool of the night tickled her calves just as the sun peeked out from behind a far hill. It would be a fine day, a hot one, an exact replica of the previous. Change was slow coming to the desert and that was just fine with her. If she had a wish, it was for summer never to fade; the cold was just something she didn't miss. The autumn trees changing to gold—that she missed. Rivers of leaves flowing at the whim of the wind, the pumpkins lit on a brisk all hallows eve, a tall fire on Christmas morning—these she missed.

  But never the cold. She had felt cold that even the rawest New York winter paled in comparison too. The memory brought with it a shiver and she involuntarily picked up the pace, as if she were running from a ghost, instead of a memory.

  Blowing hard, she crested the worst hill of the lot, the one her father had called, The Ole Bitch back when he used to run. It was aptly named. Long and steep. It was only the year before, when the blonde was thirteen that she first conquered it; the pain of that made her question why she ran at all. In truth, she didn't know why she pushed herself along that road every morning.

  It certainly wasn't the view. That was the problem with the desert not having anything resembling seasons, the view never changed. The scenic panorama afforded her at the top of The Ole Bitch was the same on the fourth of July as it was on New Year's day.

  Only it had changed that day.

  Two hundred yards down the slope, sat a rusted out four door Chevrolet. It was half off the road, idling crooked, looking as if it held in its dark chamber any number of sinister possibilities. Without missing a stride, the girl crossed to the other side of the road, keeping her blue eyes sharp on the car. She began to lope, working her breathing into an easy rhythm, half conscience of the fact that she was preparing to flee. It was only half conscience because she was always preparing to flee.

  Now, a hundred yards closer, a man climbed out of the Chevrolet. His outfit: jeans and blue work shirt was almost the state uniform of Arizona and seemed ordinary enough. His tan however didn't. He was too light. Had he been blonde, or even Mexican, she would've kept going along the road. But he was too light. Black hair and white skin.

  In a flash, she dodged off th
e road and dug in her toes, clawing up the half-sand embankment. At the top, the rugged hard scrabble of the desert lay out, going on forever in front of her. She didn't hesitate. For her the desert held no fear, after all it was only sand and stone. She ran. Despite the terrain, she ran surprisingly light, keeping away from the loose dirt and holding to the bare rocks when she could. The running shoes she wore made barely a mark as she passed over low bushes or leapt the maze of shallow gullies and now she began working up a good lather. In seven minutes, the road was a mile behind and was a barely visible black line.

  The man looked after the skinny blonde, but didn't follow.

  Chapter 1

  Will

  The phone in Will's hand rang and rang.

  Like a dentist's drill, each of those shrill sounds bored into mind, painfully, and he thought that if the torture were to go on much longer, his head would split open, right down the middle. Yet he waited with patience, despite the pulsating agony of his hangover and the pain of his beating. Lisa would pick up any second. Now, the fifth ring, and on to the sixth; they didn't own an answering machine.

  His pulse beat into his brain and he closed his eyes, running his good right hand across his battered and swollen face. The scene in front of him, a jumbled mess of a motel room; knocked over chairs and lamps, an over turned desk, brought with it the sad memories of a dead man. He had been a good man. The ninth ring, she should have picked up by then. That little fear, the tiny squiggle he had tried to ignore when he first pulled himself out of his soot-covered bed, was no longer so little. Eleven rings.