Demonicus (Overworld Underground Book 2)

by John Corwin

  "The middle hall feels empty," I said. "The other demons are too far away to be in it."

  "Are you certain?" Victoria asked.

  I nodded. I wished to mute my senses so I could push Karak's unsettling aura away from me, but that would leave us open, so I dealt with the nauseating churn of my stomach and followed close behind my father. Tyler brought up the rear. A coppery odor tickled my nose and I made a face.

  Tyler squeezed my shoulders as if to comfort me. With his enhanced sense of smell, he'd probably detected the smell of blood before most of us.

  George halted at the corner then motioned us after him. We hugged the back wall and followed him behind a stack of discarded framing wood. Rounded columns supported the room all around the edges. Judging from the jagged remains jutting from the ceiling, Karak and his crew had destroyed the columns there to clear a space for the massive crimson diagram in the middle. I assumed they'd substituted magical means to support the concrete slab above, or perhaps they hoped it wouldn't collapse until after they completed their ritual.

  Karak paced back and forth while the men I recognized as Zad Kassus and Martin Drang inspected the demonicus. The outer edges of the pattern were thirty feet away. It might be possible for one of us to draw the counter pattern before we were noticed if it came to desperate measures.

  Patrick pointed to the corner on the opposite side of the room. A tall unnaturally pale man leaned against a column. He looked exhausted, and it was no wonder, I realized. That man had to be the anointed and the floor patterned with his lifeblood. The lines were so small and intricate I couldn't even begin to imagine how much blood it had required. One thing was certain—the anointed looked ready to collapse.

  Victoria unslung her bow and knocked an arrow with a silver tip.

  "It's ready," Drang announced in a deep rough voice. "The next one won't be so bad."

  Karak turned to the pale man. "Your service is nearly at an end, faithful one. Your reward awaits."

  "Gladly I give it all to thee, Lord Karak." The anointed raised his hands. "I exalt thee and those to come by the sacrifice of my lifeblood." He continued to offer praises while Karak's demeanor clearly indicated he was impatient for the fool to hurry up and kill himself.

  I heard the creak of my mother's bow as she pulled back the knocked arrow. Karak shifted positions and suddenly his bulk was directly in the path of Victoria's aim.

  "Bloody wanker," she hissed. Blue eyes darting about the room, she slowly released the tension on the bowstring. "I need a new position."

  George pointed to a column several feet from the woodpile. "Will that do?"

  "Only one way to find out." Remaining crouched, she swiftly made for the column while Patrick watched, face tense.

  I felt the other possessed moving closer. Before my mother could take aim from her new position, people dressed in white robes entered the room from the right side and once again obstructed her aim. One group of people struggled as possessed dragged them into the demonicus. Others smiled serenely and took positions in the smaller patterns around the outer edges.

  Victoria scurried back to us before the new arrivals made their way to our side of the pattern.

  The anointed cried out something in a joyous voice. A chill spiked against my senses and faded into the background. I looked over the woodpile and saw Drang sling the body of the anointed over his shoulder and leave the room.

  "We're too late," Victoria said. "We should have been here earlier."

  George gave a tense nod. "I believe our best avenue is a hasty retreat."

  "Too late," Patrick said. "Unless you want to fight our way out."

  By now, robed people stood in all the outer patterns. They spoke excitedly with one another while others held their hands high as if entranced in prayer.

  A woman stood in the center pattern, singing praises. "Oh, Lord Abaddon, how wondrous is this day! Soon you shall be among us and the stars will know their end!" She pranced in circles while possessed dragged screaming and crying men and women into the center with her. "I shall be a part of your greatness and pave the way for your rule!"

  Karak watched the woman with an amused expression on his otherwise grim face. I had a feeling this woman was consigning herself to oblivion or worse.

  The possessed herded the unwilling people into the center with the woman and bound them tightly around her with rope.

  "I thought they had to be willing for a demon to consume their souls," I whispered.

  Tyler's forehead pinched. "They do. I don't understand what they're doing."

  Each of the slightly larger circles outside the center one held three people each. In most cases, there was one willing individual with two others hogtied tightly to them. I wondered how anyone could be so happy to let a demon eat their soul. The woman in the middle still sang her praises. Many white-robed people in the outer patterns looked at her with naked jealousy.

  I thought back to the original demonicus. The people in the outer patterns would be possessed, not consumed, by lessers. Two of those in the middle patterns would be consumed while the third would be a host to a knight. Everyone in the core would have their soul consumed so the demon lord could keep his own corporeal form.

  "I think I know how they plan to do it," Tyler whispered.

  Victoria gave him a querying look.

  "They're using the faithful as conduits." He pressed his hands together. "The reason they're tying them together is so they act like soul conductors."

  Patrick scowled. "It doesn't seem possible, but you might be right."

  "That would explain how they consumed the unwilling employees at the blood bank," George said, "and why they bound so many of them together."

  "And why there were so many bodies at the scene." I peeked around the edge of the woodpile and watched the possessed leave the demonicus.

  Karak, standing in the center, raised his hands and bellowed, "You are all here to serve a glorious purpose. For the willing, there will be infinite rewards and for the unwilling, the peace of utter oblivion."

  "Praise thee, Lord Karak!" the woman in the middle proclaimed.

  "For you, girl, the Chosen of Abaddon, you will become part of a greater whole. You will witness the power of his fiery spirit." Karak clapped his hands together. "Let the ritual begin. Let the second chapter of the uprising begin." He left the demonicus and stood between Kassus and Drang. "Armageddon awaits her horsemen!"

  The battle mages rapped their staffs on the floor and began chanting. I couldn't hear much of what they said over the singing, screaming, and crying from the robed people.

  "Looks like we'll get to witness something awful whether we want to or not," Patrick said. "I just hope we live to warn others."

  "We could probably make a run for it," I said. "Surely, they won't chase us while they're in the middle of the ritual."

  "I think we should stay and witness this." George sat with his back to the wood. "We can't stop it without using the counter pattern, and attempting that would possibly mean sacrificing all our lives."

  "Use one of those fancy ASEs to record it," I said.

  "I am." He motioned to a tiny silver sphere hovering just above the wood. "But if we leave and reveal our presence, they'll be sure to look for any form of surveillance."

  "Better than getting us all killed." Before I could utter another word, I felt a deep uneasy churning in my stomach rivalling that of Karak himself and the room went deathly silent. I returned my attention to the ritual.

  The demonicus glowed a sickly yellow color. The robed sacrifices stood stiff and still. The people in the outer circles began to foam at the mouths and shake violently. One by one, the patterns at their feet flashed different colors, from red, to yellow, to orange. Seconds after the flash, the people stopped shaking and looked around, smiles stretching their faces.

  They're possessed.

  When the outer circuit completed, the people in the middle patterns began to flop around violently. Two men who'd been unwilling
participants unleashed horrific croaking noises. Grey smoke poured from their eyes and mouths and into the mouth of the willing host they were tied to. Tyler's theory had been correct.

  I gagged and felt my gorge rising. These demons were forcing innocent people to give up their souls. Hatred burned into my veins. I didn't know what possessed me, but I grabbed my mother's bow. I wanted to kill Karak with all my being.

  Strong arms gripped mine and held them tight. "What are you doing Em?" Tyler whispered in my ear.

  I felt a tear trickle down my eye. "I want them dead," I whispered. "I want to kill them all."

  "What's gotten into you?"

  It took all my effort not to scream. My parents had raised me in the church. I believed in God. With all my heart, I knew what was happening here today was an abomination in His eyes. Then why is He letting it happen? "Oh, Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name."

  Victoria pressed a hand over my mouth, eyes hard as diamonds. I directed my fury at her. It was her fault the anointed had finished the demonicus. If she'd been faster to aim and shoot, he'd be dead.

  Howls of agony and despair rose behind me. I shook loose of Tyler and Victoria's grips and watched as the center pattern in the demonicus glowed a brilliant putrid yellow. The woman in the middle sucked in the soul essence of those bound to her.

  Her body buckled, back bending at such an acute angle I thought it might break. She tried to scream, but it was as if the air were being vacuumed into her lungs, making her awful sucking cries even more horrendous. I could see by the look in her eyes that this was not what she had expected. The ground rumbled and a great deafening boom vibrated the air. Concrete dust drifted from the ceiling.

  The woman's body turned violently inside out. Before her blood stained the ground, her innards burned to ash leaving a whirling cloud of souls. A fiery haze of orange glowed in the center of the claimed souls. Howling with despair, the wraiths wrapped around the demon's spirit form like a protective layer.

  The sphere of souls morphed, at first into a great horned beast, and then shrinking into a blank humanoid template. Features chiseled themselves into the slab, as if an invisible sculptor were lovingly molding this horror into a work of art. The grey stone turned a peach color. Breasts swelled and red hair burst like a flame from the head.

  The newly born woman looked down at her hands as if she couldn't believe they were real. A smile stretched her lips. She reared back her head and burst into a full-throated laugh.

  Lord Abaddon had arrived.

  Chapter 20

  "I think we've seen enough," George said.

  "I thought Abaddon was a man," I murmured.

  A great roaring cheer went up around the room as seventeen new possessed celebrated their arrival on the mortal plane along with another demon lord.

  George gripped my arm. "Miss Glass, it's time to go." He looked at the others. "Just act as though we're supposed to be here if anyone sees you."

  With that wonderful advice, we sneaked out of our hiding spot, keeping as close to the back edge of the room as possible, and then went back through the doorway. Two men stood in the hallway smoking a joint.

  "I'm so fucking happy that's over with." The first took a long drag and held it in.

  "Hell yeah!" the second shouted. "Time to celebrate." He looked at our group, eyes calculating. "You part of the new group?"

  "Yep," Victoria said

  "Nice." He gave her a feral grin and turned it onto me. "We're hiring some hookers for a massive orgy going later." He licked his lips and looked me up and down. "I wouldn't mind fucking that body."

  I bit my lower lip as if thoroughly entranced with him. "Get in line, baby."

  He laughed. "Yeah, I will."

  "How about a quicky?" the second possessed asked. "They haven't let us party for two days and my chubby aches like a motherfucker."

  "We're going to orientation," George said. "Lord Karak's orders."

  The two possessed backed off, hands up.

  "Yeah, you go do that." The first shuddered. "I ain't gonna piss off Karak."

  We passed by two more possessed who were too busy cooking heroin to bother with us. Finally, we reached the stairs to the outside. My heart fluttered like a hummingbird as I waited for someone to shout for us to halt, or for two demon lords to appear before us and devour our souls.

  Our luck ran out the second we reached the top of the stairs.

  "They finally done?" someone asked.

  I looked up and saw a cloud of cigarette smoke vanish in the wind to reveal Xasha's face.

  My father shifted his large frame to block the possessed's view of Tyler and me.

  "What the fuck?"

  I flicked my head toward the new voice and saw Vatna leaning against a concrete column. He pushed himself off and strode straight toward us.

  I felt Tyler's arm tense where it touched mine. Freeing my hand from his grasp, I readied the lancer.

  "Where did you get a bow and swords?" Vatna asked.

  "Who has a bow and sword?" Xasha said.

  Vatna pointed to Victoria. "Right in front of you, you blind idiot." His gaze shifted and found Tyler. "You!"

  Before he could shout for help or do anything, I shot him in the throat with a dart. Xasha saw his friend fall and spun around. Before he went two feet, an arrow pierced his leg and he went down in a howl of agony. I raced up to him and shut him up with another dart.

  "Won't be long before someone comes to investigate," George said.

  "We need to take these two." I bent down and tried to lift Xasha, but failed to even budge him.

  "Dragging a bloody unconscious person across the road to the condo is going to be a bit of a trick," Tyler said.

  "Would you rather leave them on the loose?" I looked around furtively to make sure other possessed weren't coming up the stairs.

  Tyler slung Xasha over his shoulder. "If anyone gets a picture of this, my company is toast."

  "I have an idea." George motioned toward the other body. "Mr. Glass, please carry that one. I'll go get my car and fly it in here."

  Patrick bent down and tossed Vatna over his shoulder. "I'm ready."

  George raced away in a blur. The rest of us moved cautiously across the site, using cover whenever possible, until we reached the fence. George's car shimmered into view and the trunk popped open. Tyler and Patrick dumped the bodies into the spacious interior.

  Once Tyler shut the trunk, the car rippled into invisibility. We arrived at the Gregorian a few minutes later and found George sitting in the car just outside the closed gates.

  He got out and approached us. "I'll take the three possessed back to the Templar holding facility until we can properly exorcise them."

  "We spoke of doing an Abyssal banishment," Patrick said.

  George nodded. "Yes, Miss Glass spoke of her desire to make sure these demons never visited the mortal plane again." He scratched his arm and looked at my parents. "Are either of you familiar with the procedure?"

  "Yes, but it's rather complex." My father ran a hand down his face. "At the moment, however, all I can think about is sleep. It's been a long, trying day."

  "I know someone who needs sleep." My mother put an arm on my shoulder. "I was afraid you might reveal us when you took my bow and tried to shoot Karak."

  I almost clenched my fists, but didn't want to accidentally discharge a lancer dart into my foot. "Of course I was upset. Abaddon devoured the souls of innocent people! Anyone who believes in God should be upset at such an abomination."

  "I assure you, we are extremely upset." And yet, Victoria's face remained calm. "It isn't wise to lose control of your emotions during a mission, Emily. You nearly gave us away with your outburst."

  "You don't feel what I feel," I spat back. "I glimpsed the true horror of this new demon lord. I felt her putrescence all over those innocent souls. I felt her sickening aura in my guts like nuclear radiation." I gagged just thinking about it. "Karak was bad enough, but now we have two highly
powerful caustic demons loose in our world. How many more people need to lose their souls before we stop them?"

  "Perhaps you shouldn't come on other missions until you learn to control your emotions." Victoria put a hand to her chin. "I believe that would be the best course of action. You're simply not ready for the field."

  Tyler wrapped an arm around me. "I think if you could feel someone's soul being eaten, you might be a little more sympathetic, Victoria."

  She shrugged. "Perhaps. Then again, I would learn to control it as I have my other emotions. It is an unfortunate but necessary part of being in the field."

  My mother was right, but I was too angry and stubborn to admit it. I realized with a strange sense of detachment that I had led a sheltered life. There were horrors in this world I never could have imagined, and now there were plenty I had no problem imagining.

  There was no point in arguing with my mother about this or anything else. She would always be right even if she wasn't. "Well, I'm glad you're at least taking an interest in my welfare now, Mother. Goodness knows you've rarely shown any until now." I knew it was a low blow, but it was also true. Though I hadn't realized the reason for my mother's long absences during my childhood, I now knew it was because she put her duties to the Exorcists first.

  My mother's eyes went rock hard.

  "I believe we all need some sleep," my father announced in a loud voice. He gave me a pointed look. "We'll be in touch." Before Victoria could say anything, he put an arm over her shoulder and guided her away.

  George didn't look the least bit fazed by the family drama. "I'll speak with Professor Zuba about Abyssal banishments."

  Tyler gave him a confused look. "Why wasn't he the first person you asked when we requested it a couple of days ago?"

  "A Custodian I met in Colombia referred me to him, so today was the first chance I had to speak with him." George motioned to the lancer. "You may hold onto that, Miss Glass. Despite your sensory overload, you performed very well tonight."

  "My mother is completely overbearing." If I'd hoped to hear a statement of sympathy from George, I was disappointed.