The Devil Inside

by Lana Pecherczyk

  She pursed her lips, paused, and picked out a white square card from a deck on the bench. “Number sixteen. Wait your turn.”

  “Wha—?”

  I spun on my heel and for the first time noticed the small waiting room with a row of awkward plastic chairs lined against the wall. Empty. The room was sodding empty. I rolled my eyes and stepped forward to take a seat while she made a quiet phone call.

  “Number sixteen,” Annie called as she hung up the phone. She ushered me through a door just passed the desk.

  Two minutes later, I lay reclined on a dentist’s chair, huffing and puffing. I stared at a poster of childish animals on the ceiling wondering what the hell I’d done to deserve this treatment. Maybe I’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in crazy town. I had no idea who this woman was.

  Where was the bloody Librarian?

  “Okay Mr. Gamekeeper, how long are we reaching?”

  Oh. Finally. I arched to find the source of the voice but my head was forced back to face the ceiling by Annie’s cool hands as she sat on a stool behind me.

  “How far?”

  “Way back. Possibly the beginning—wait, are you the Librarian? What happened to old mate Gonzo?”

  She whistled and wheeled herself on her seat to check something on a side bench, then wheeled back. “Gonzo hasn’t played the Game in over a hundred years. I’m the apprentice of his apprentice.” She lay her palms on my temples, paused as though meditating, then circled her fingers with light pressure on my skin. “And have you eaten solids today?”

  “No—I thought Gonzo was Seraphim, not Nephililm.”

  “Don’t know. I can only say he taught my teacher. Drunk only clear liquids?”

  “You want specifics?”

  “A simple yes or no will suffice.”

  “This is confidential, yeah?”

  “Of course. I read your application. I know what you’re looking for, but let me tell you, I don’t know what you hope to expect, I’ve had every single Watcher who’s walked the face of the earth come in here asking the same questions. What makes you think you know the answer?”

  “Well, for starters, I’m not a bloody Watcher. I have rights. If you can’t flippin’ do it, just say so.” I bit my tongue to stop myself saying any further damaging remarks. A deep breath later and I patted her arm affectionately. I didn’t want my fire to explode again. Injuring her tools of the trade was the last thing I needed. “I also want to know if I remember anything about the first witch Eve. There you go, love. Your turn.”

  “If you say so.” Annie put a strip of leather between my teeth. “Take a deep breath”—I inhaled—“and count backwards from ten.”

  “10, 9, 8, 7…” Annie plunged her fingers, or something equally incomprehensible because it was excruciating, through the molecules of my head. Pain radiated from that spot and filled my entire being. My back arched, and I bit down hard on the leather strip between my teeth, eyes watering, body seizing. She dug deeper and, oh gods, rifled through my most private thoughts. Like searching for clownfish in anemone. Before I had time to scream, painful images slashed before my eyes. One, two, three. Flashes of light and incorporeal visuals. She repeated my questions in a calm and soothing voice as she delved and guided the barrage of information to follow the beat of her drum. First, a few grounding questions, then for the next five minutes, questions that isolated the era I looked for.

  “Travel back to your earliest memories on Earth. Think about the planet and how it looked. Remember the yellow sun and how the rays felt when they first hit your skin in the morning. Remember the dew dancing on the grass when the wind blew, the smell of the air. Remember the birds calling in the blue sky. Now, do you remember a woman called Eve?”

  “Yes,” I slurred.

  “Tell me about her.”

  “Tall, dark skinned—like the color of the pine tree bark. Sephie introduced us on my second trip to this planet.”

  Annie stifled a gasp. Vaguely through a haze, I realized I’d used my private nickname for the Queen. Very bad.

  “It was before I took her back to the Empire.”

  “Before you took the Queen back, or Eve?”

  “The Queen.”

  “She traveled with you through the in-between?"

  “Yes, of course. She’s the bleedin’ Queen.” My words spat out, difficult in my state, but tempestuous to the last drop. “Anyone a few millennia old would remember that. How old are you anyway?”

  “Players don’t remember anything of their Seraphim life, hence I can’t remember.”

  “Oh yeah. Anyway, keep to the questions I outlined.”

  An audible sigh escaped her lips. “Anything else about Eve?”

  “She was human. One of the first experiments. Made in our image, you know.”

  “Why did the Queen introduce you?”

  Pain sliced through my temples as she reached.

  “I… something about being a messenger… no… thought I had something there, but… no.”

  “It’s okay. Don’t struggle. What about the Queen’s enforcer?”

  “What about him?”

  “Do you remember him from that time?”

  “Of course—who wouldn’t? He’s got an ego the size of a planet, and he’s a bit hard to miss with his ‘I’m the Queen’s favorite pet’ attitude. The day he disappeared was the best day of my life.” Somewhere inside, far away, I was surprised at my reaction but the words kept pouring out. “He ruined everything with his macho brilliance—saving the world and all that. She took his disappearance harder than I expected.” I sighed at the memory.

  “Did you make him disappear?”

  “I’m offended that you asked.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?”

  A memory rose to the forefront of my mind, sharp and in full focus.

  I saw the earth as it was all those years ago, fresh, young and innocent. I was in the turquoise shallows of a beach, and Sephie splashed around next to me, wearing a basic cotton dress, catching fish with her bare hands, like the commoners she’d created.

  “Sephie, we don’t have time for this,” I started, jumping back when a slippery fish brushed my leg.

  Some villagers weaved baskets on the shore, others used the baskets to catch fish, but the adventurous villagers were using their hands, like Sephie. They let the slippery, slimy scales slide through their fingers, feeling the life pump in the flimsy bodies before removing them from their home.

  “There’s always time to explore new things, Marc.” She giggled as she let a fish slip through her hands.

  “Your Empire needs you. We’ve been here for too long.”

  She stood straight, hair gleaming so brightly in the sun it looked white. “These people need me more. This is our new home.”

  I was shocked. “What do you mean, new home? You have responsibilities back at our real home.” But she shook her head and turned back to the ocean. The waves lifted the edges of her dress until the fabric floated around her legs. I tapped her on the shoulder. “We fought tooth and nail to unite the territories—we wanted to be better than our brutal predecessors, and we did it. We made peace. Now you’re telling me you’re giving that all away? You’re running away?”

  She sighed heavily and trailed her fingers in the water. “I’m tired of the politics. After the King died, I thought I’d be happy. He was a brute and a tyrant, just like
the world he’d come from, but escaping him wasn’t enough. The peace we forged wasn’t enough. War still kindles, waiting for the right spark to send it soaring. That’s why I created this place. So we can start fresh. Away from all that. And those that can’t physically make it here, can get a taste of real peace and freedom without leaving their home.”

  “So you created a galactic resort.” I rolled my eyes with disdain.

  A burst of cheering and laughter from a group of half-naked villagers nearby brought our attention back. One of the men lifted an extraordinarily large fish over his head and they all cheered for him.

  “See how carefree they are? You have to promise me, to protect these people, no matter what. They’re too weak and innocent to protect themselves.”

  When she looked at me with those eyes, everything inside me broke. “Sephie, you know I’ll do anything for you.”

  “Eggie, it’s not for me. It’s for them. I want you to love them as much as I do.”

  My heart swelled like the ocean we stood in. No matter what she said, though, I’d always do it for her.

  “… Ah… ugkh.” My pain level sky-rocketed. “Fucking, sodding, fuck.” I thrashed about, making Annie’s job hard.

  “Marc. Relax… just relax.”

  “Can’t—”

  “Let’s try something different. Do you remember his true name?”

  “Gyuak!”

  “Gyuak’s his name?”

  I shook my head and moaned, gurgled, leather strap discarded. The room chilled, and the lights flickered. It was so brief I could have convinced myself I imagined things if it wasn’t for the fact that I’d felt the same slippery presence when I was with Jacine earlier.

  “The ingredient? What did he remove?” Annie brought my attention back to the now and shoved her fingers mercilessly through my mind, dislodging forgotten memories, forcing a response.

  “Gr—argh—enforcer did it!”

  “And where is the enforcer now?”

  Even in my state of duress, my internal alarm system went off. I hadn’t asked Annie to enquire about that. The questions about the hunter’s current whereabouts were unwarranted. Yes, I wanted to know more about the time the enforcer was alive in true form on the planet, but not his location today. As far as the Empire knew, the enforcer was dead. I yanked Annie’s fingers out of my temples and flopped back to the seat, sweating and panting. “Bugger. I never want to do that again.” I feigned exhaustion. No use letting on that I was on to her and her wily ways. “I’m absolutely knackered, love. Let’s finish on that note.”

  “But…” Annie’s voice trailed off as she pulled off her glasses and wiped the steamed lens. “Fine. If that’s what you want. It all sounds like hogwash, if you ask me, but I’ll write it up, anyway.”

  “Yes, well, nobody asked your opinion did they?”

  I sat up, caught my breath and had the urge to vomit. Just like the time I ate that under-cooked hot-pocket. Ugh! I worked my mouth, trying to forget the taste of pineapple and sour onions.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to gather yourself,” Annie said. “I’ll go and type up the transcript. You can come out when you’re ready to make the payment.”

  Payment? “I’ve never had to pay for it in my life!”

  “Yes, that was a first for me too.”

  I placed my palm on my head. I kept seeing images, visual aftershocks, but was damned if I would stay vulnerable around someone I didn’t trust. Besides, a chill hung in the air and my instincts told me to leave.

  Before Annie could say anything else, I transported myself to the first person I thought of.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Cash

  I ROARED AWAKE, pouncing out of my bed, lungs burning, heart thumping.

  It took me a moment to gather my wits and focus on my surroundings.

  It was dark.

  That much I knew.

  I had a cold metal object in my hand—a knife—ready to slice, stab or maim. Tremors shook my body in anticipatory need. I was ready to hunt, to hurt.

  But.

  Why was I awake?

  Danger.

  Surrounding me.

  And I could smell food, slightly pungent and sour.

  So, that was odd.

  I lowered my knife upon the realization I was at my office. I’d fallen asleep on my couch. There was no danger. Just a dream.

  A memory.

  In the darkness, an onslaught of visions from my past had overwhelmed me. This time, it was different. It wasn’t a human life I watched, but alien. A god’s life.

  My life.

  It came back to me in pieces. I’d been patrolling the primitive settlements the humans had created amongst themselves on their fair Earth, but as far as I was concerned, the ground was dirt, the air was dirt. The sun glared in my eyes and caused sweat to prickle the back of my neck. I yearned to return to the Empire, to civilization. Desperate to leave the filth behind, but I would wait until my job here was done, until the Queen said it was done.

  I had no idea why she cared so much about these inferior beings.

  “Oh, but they’re not inferior, you see,” she’d said as she strolled alongside me, making a mad scribble in her coveted book before snapping it shut and taking my rough hand in her soft one. It was a brazen display of affection, especially so soon after her husband’s untimely demise, but out here on the petri dish of another planet, she didn’t care. “In fact, they’re so pure, so innocent and untainted by evil that they’re perfect.”

  “Perfect animals,” I’d joked.

  She laughed with a frown on her face—happy yet torn. It was the most magical sound I’d ever heard. Her voice trickled into my soul like the desert rain. I was thirsty for more and ashamed that I caused such conflict in her eyes.

  “You jest, I know,” she said. “But my love, I can’t help think something is troubling you. Some truth behind the lie.”

  I grumbled acquiescence.

  “You worry,” she added, her frown growing deeper, or, perhaps it was her smile falling that made it seem so.

  I worried for so many things, her safety the chief among them. Her enemies were ripe on this planet. She’d invited the emissaries from her most disapproving territories as a sign of strength, but I saw it as an opening for disaster.

  She waited for me to respond with patient eyes.

  “Yes,” I said. “Damn straight I worry. This entire project of yours is a plague waiting to unleash. A political disaster.”

  “Impossible. I have taken every precaution. Only the best minds from around the Empire have permission to work here. We’ve taken only the best the Universe has to offer. The emissaries are also happy. Soon we will share this wonder with everyone. Just imagine, having a place where there is no disease, famine, or war. A sample of the best each planet has to offer, right here, together in harmony. Flora, fauna, and peaceful inhabitants that can serve as a conduit so we need never leave the comfort of our own planets. A place where no matter who you are, you are welcome to learn about the wonders of the creation. A living library! The universe can only be pleased we are promoting life and taking education and evolution into our own hands.”

  “I see what you are trying to do, but attempting to predict what the universe wants is a fool’s errand. I’m telling you, there’s trouble brewing.”

  It was at this point she stopped and placed a gentle palm on my cheek to make me face her. The sun blinded me and all I could see of her was a golden sunburst where her face should be.


  “My dear, sweet hunter. It is in your nature to question. It is why you are so good at what you do and I love that about you. But how can creating a world without evil be wrong? Just look at this, the life responds to us by being here. Look at it grow when I touch it.” She ran her fingers over the leaves of a bushy plant. Instantly, tiny white flowers bloomed from within. A heady fragrance entered the air, and she breathed in deeply.

  I thought it smelled pungent.

  Seeing my distaste, she leant in. “And when we say each other’s names, we’re rewarded with pleasure.” She whispered my name and a wave of electricity shot up my spine, making me gasp for air and tug her close. I buried my head into her neck while the sensations rode out.

  “Tease,” I grumbled into her.

  She kissed my cheek and smiled against my skin before pulling back and pointing to the new humans. “What about them?” She angled my head to view the villagers going about their day. “They have no idea of their true purpose, and they never will. They’ll never have to feel pain or sadness. Look how happy they are.”

  “And so they should be happy. You’ve given them only the best D.N.A. we have to offer. Not even us elite have the potential they’re born with.”

  “This is where you’re wrong. I haven’t given them the best. I’ve taken out the bad. There is a difference.” She waved her book at my face.

  Always with her head in that damned book, recording everything she and her scientists discovered. She paid it more attention than me, or her son.

  “Not according to some,” I reminded her, thinking of that recalcitrant boy.

  “And what do you believe, my sweet hunter?”

  “I believe the evil you removed has to go somewhere. You extracted it, upset the balance of this world and now where will it go? You created these bodies for us to use and discard, and that feels out of balance. There will be a price.”