“You are welcome, Alexander Holden.” She vanished, taking the sword with her.
I filled my friends in on what happened in Hel, about Baldur’s gift, and Mew-Mew talking about making me a sword. They told me what they’d been up to when I was fighting Fenrir and afterward. Emily’s shield had been given to her by a group of cats who said they found it in another world. Mew-Mew had let them know we needed help so they brought the shield to her. It was a protective weapon, which was what the blue glow was that kept Fenrir away. Unlike Excalibur, she didn’t have to give it back. It was hers to keep.
Once we were all caught up with each other, Stefan asked, “So now what?”
We all stood around, looking awkward. I wondered if they were thinking the same thing I was, that even though we didn’t want the world to be in danger again, there was this sense of wishing there was something else we could do. Actually, in my case I wished I had an excuse to avoid what I knew was coming. But I think they were just wondering how they could go from trying to save the world to living their normal lives.
“I guess we just go back home,” Colin said.
“I guess,” Emily echoed. She looked a little disappointed.
“Yeah, home,” I said, dread heavy in my stomach.
“Will you go back to Joshua’s house?” Stefan asked.
“No. I’m not running anymore,” I told them. “I’m going back home.”
“But… Satan will beat you again,” Emily said.
“Yeah, he’ll do that anyway. He always finds me eventually and drags me back. You know that.” They’d seen it happen often enough.
“But won’t you be safe in Joshua’s house? It’s the only place Satan can’t go,” Elliot said.
“Yeah, but I’d hate myself for it. I hid there while I was still hurt because I was too afraid to face another beating when I hadn’t even fucking healed from the last one. But I’m done. I’m done with being a fucking coward.” I clenched my fist. “I know I can’t stop him, not yet, but I saw what I’ll be able to do and I know that someday I’ll be strong enough to fight back. Maybe I won’t be able to win, but I know I can fucking try and hopefully do some fucking damage. Shit, it would feel so good just to leave a mark on him, to have that same look on his face that the bitch did when I burned her.” I pictured it—that shocked, afraid look. The wheels in her fucked up little head turning, thinking that her precious fucking protections didn’t work anymore.
“He won’t kill me. They told me as much before. They won’t kill me or maim me because they need me to fulfill their fucking prophecy.” Unlike what it said in the Bible, the prophecy the Satanists had ended with Satan and me and all his loyal followers ruling over a broken world. The devil would reshape it to his liking and the rule of Jehovah would be swept away like so much dust. No matter which side was right, neither ending appealed to me, except in the Satanist version at least I didn’t end up being thrown into the lake of fire to suffer for all eternity. “The beating is all about hurting me and scaring me into obedience.”
“I don’t like the idea of you getting the shit beat out of you again, but I think facing it is the right thing to do,” Stefan said. “Do you want me to come with you? I might be able to help you.” He was the oldest and strongest of us, and he had the best control of his powers.
It was tempting. “No. This is something I have to do myself.”
“Are you sure?” Colin asked.
I nodded. If I asked them to, they would all come with me. Probably even Elliot. It hit me then what friendship really was. They would put themselves in danger for me. “Thanks for the offer, but this is my fight. My beating I have to take, whatever.” I really didn’t want to do it, but more than that, I didn’t want to feel like a coward. I’d saved the world twice in a week; I could damn well face my father too.
I could tell they wanted to argue more, but they accepted it. We all went home, one by one. I was the last to leave. I took a moment to let Mew-Mew know what I was doing. Mew-Mew, I’m going home. Finish doing whatever you’re doing. Don’t hurry back.
But Satan will hurt you again.
I know, but I’m not running anymore. Finish making my sword. I wanted to ask him how the fuck he was making it and what kind of sword it was, but I had to stop stalling. Time to face the music.
Chapter 12
I went through the gateway to the cemetery by my house. Fear squeezed me tight as I turned toward the gate surrounding the cemetery. Once I passed outside the cemetery grounds I would have no protection at all. I swallowed and started walking. I pushed the gate open and stood there a moment, gathering my courage. I really fucking wished I still had Excalibur. I had no weapons at all except my touch-and-go powers.
Fuck it. I stepped out of the cemetery and headed for the road that led back to my house. I thought about the last time I’d been on this road, running in the opposite direction, desperately trying to teleport and get away. Now I was walking back, not exactly calmly, but I had some fucking dignity. I straightened my shoulders and kept my pace steady. Yeah, I had some fucking dignity now. No matter what was waiting for me at home, I was going to face it. My heart slammed against my ribs as I turned onto our drive and passed by the trees guarding the property. The house stood in front of me like doom, solid and inevitable. No, this was a choice, my choice. Free will, not destiny.
I went right up the steps to the porch and pushed at the door. Locked. Fear tried to get at me one last time, telling me I could still run away, the locked door was an omen telling me to get out. I thought again of what I’d seen from Baldur’s gift, the glimpse of what I would one day be capable of. A man with that kind of power didn’t run away.
So I knocked at my own front door, practically begging for the beating I knew was coming. Ken answered it and stared at me in open shock. “Alex?”
“Yep. Gonna let me in?” I snapped. My skin started to warm and it made me smile. Maybe my powers would work this time.
Ken stumbled back, getting out of my way. I walked past him into the house and looked around. It had only been a few days, but the house looked different. Not that I could pick out anything that had changed. Maybe it was just me that had changed. Mom came out of the basement where the altar was. Probably just got done talking to Satan. “Alex?” Her face was a mask of confusion.
“Why don’t you go back down there and tell your fucking master to come here. I want to get this over with.” My heart beat even faster with terror, but at the same time it felt fucking awesome to say that. Sure, I challenged my parents all the time, but I usually wasn’t this bad about it.
“How dare you speak to me like that!” The bitch glared.
“Like I’ve been so fucking polite to you before.” My skin got warmer. Yes, bring on the anger.
“Show some respect, young man,” Ken said, even as he was keeping his distance.
“How fucking cliché can you be?” This was such a fucking trip. The fear sank inside me, like a stone in water. It didn’t go away, but it got less important. “When have I ever respected you? You’re not fucking worth my respect. You never have been. I fucking hate you both and I wish you would die.” I’d said all this before, but this was like all of it concentrated, squeezing years of anger and hatred down to a few minutes.
I picked up a lamp from a table with my power and hurled it at him. That was one ability that had never failed me. I’d thrown things at them since I was two, but it always hit the protection that surrounded them. I couldn’t hurt them with my powers, which included physical objects I threw. Both Ken and my mom had stopped doing more than a slight flinch when I threw things at them, knowing they were safe from my tantrums. But this time Ken did more than flinch. He jumped out of the way.
Without turning or giving any kind of warning, I threw a chair at Mom. Yeah, a fucking chair. I usually didn’t try hurling things that big, but I was full of anger and confidence. The chair flew through the air and Mom ducked with a little squeak. The chair missed and then bounced off the
door frame of the basement, hitting her. She stumbled away from the chair, staring first at it and then at me with shock. I’d just hurt her again with my powers. Well, it might be indirect since it had hit the door frame first, but I’d tried tricks like that before and they’d never worked. “Fuck,” she said, holding her shoulder where the chair had hit her.
I got even hotter, the heat shimmer floating in front of me. I was almost giddy now. “Holy shit. Let’s see what else works.” I lifted my hand, and she shrieked and ran down the stairs. I launched a fireball at her a second later and it hit the curve of the wall in the stairway. It left a burning hole. Would it have hurt her? I couldn’t wait to try again, but Ken was closer. I turned to him and he took off like a shot, running for the kitchen and the back door. I threw a fireball after him and barely missed. He screamed and kept running. My shoulder blades started to itch. I ignored it, trying to decide if I should go after Ken or Mom.
Shit, this was such a fucking high. After all this time, they were afraid of me, running away from me. Whatever the consequences were, it had to be worth it. No, not Ken, I could deal with him later. Mom was the one I really wanted to hurt. I went down into the basement and into the altar room. She was already on her knees in the inverted pentagram, praying to the candle-filled altar with the upside-down cross and all sorts of other bullshit.
“You know what this actually means, don’t you?” I asked her. She cut off mid-prayer and whirled to face me, as scared as I’d ever seen her. “A pentagram means protection, so flipping it around means no protection. Pretty fucking stupid.” I threw a fireball at her. She screamed, but the fireball hit a barrier and disappeared. Fuck, I guess I still couldn’t seriously hurt her with my powers.
Then in swirl of fire, my father appeared. “Alex, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Trying to kill that fucking bitch.” I tried to ignore the pounding of my heart and the terror that rose so fast it almost made me dizzy.
“You’re getting stronger,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice.
“Someday I’ll be strong enough to take you on.” Maybe not win, but Baldur’s gift had shown me I would at least stand a chance.
“Why must you be so difficult, Alex? You’ll see things my way in time.” He moved to stand between me and my mom.
“Fuck no.” I threw a fireball at him. I knew it wouldn’t do anything, but it felt good anyway. It hit him and faded into nothing. Then he threw a fireball at me. He’d never done that before. Instinctively I brought my hands up to block, using heat as a shield. The fireball hit it and burst into a flash. The force of it knocked me back and I flew through the doorway, landing on the basement floor.
I laid there for a moment, stunned, the wind knocked out of me. Satan walked over and grabbed me by the throat, lifting me off my feet. Now this was a familiar position. He glared at me, inches from my face. “Such an ungrateful bastard. When will you understand I’m trying to give you—”
I kicked as hard as I could and connected with his leg. He flinched, just a little, but it gave me hope. It was more than I’d been able to do before. My shoulder blades itched worse and I wanted to scratch them, but I had bigger things to worry about. My forehead itched too, in two spots above my eyebrows.
“You little shit,” he growled. He punched me in the stomach, knocking the breath out of me again.
Here came the beating again, the way it had happened dozens of times since I was eleven. But this time I wasn’t just going to endure, I wasn’t just going to mouth off until it hurt too much. This time I was going to fight back with everything I had. I just wanted to leave a mark on him, one fucking little mark. A bruise or a scratch, something to show I’d tried.
I wanted Excalibur. I wanted the new sword Mew-Mew was somehow making me. What I had were the powers that would hopefully keep working this time and some epic fucking stubbornness. Satan followed up the punch to my stomach with a backhand to my face. He hit me so hard my ears rang and I tasted blood. “You will obey me, no matter how many times I have to beat it into you.”
“‘Cause that’s worked so well before.” It hurt to talk through my busted mouth. He growled and I kicked out at him again, trying to aim higher. I missed his balls but connected with his hip. The impact jolted him. His eyes started glowing red. I’d really, really pissed him off. For a second I wondered if I could piss him off enough that he would forget that he was supposed to keep me alive.
Would he get mad enough to kill me? A little voice inside me wondered if that might not be a good thing. No more beatings, no more fear, just the peaceful afterlife stretched out before me. Yeah, but where was I likely to end up? I might get lucky and stay on Earth as a ghost or I might escape to someone else’s afterlife, but chances were really motherfucking good I would end up in Hell.
And then there would be no running away at all.
Still, I wasn’t going to back down, but I wasn’t going to be totally fucking reckless. I had to think about what I was doing. Satan threw me across the room. I hit the concrete wall and bounced off, leaving a dent. I know because I heard the little bits of wall hitting the floor around me. From what I’ve been able to figure out, I’ve always been a little stronger and tougher than a normal human. This was more than that, my powers were still working. Hitting the wall didn’t hurt as much as it should have. My face and stomach didn’t hurt as much as they should have either. The pain was starting to fade like it had been a half hour since he’d hit me instead of just a few minutes.
I actually got up from the floor before he got to me. Not quite fast enough. He slammed me into the wall, making the dent bigger. The heat shimmer rose in front of my eyes, and I realized heat was coming off him as well as me. I’d pissed him off enough for him to use his powers. For all that he’d beaten the shit out of me, I knew he’d been using a lot of restraint so he wouldn’t do any permanent damage. Maybe I really was risking him killing me this time.
Oh, well. Fuck it. I’d try to do as much damage to him as I could before he took me out. He swung at me and I dodged out of the way. Everything blurred and I was suddenly halfway across the room. This was the best my powers had ever worked, and they seemed to be working all at the same time. Before he could take another swing at me, I had to figure out a way to hurt him. Since he was running hot, I’d try for cold. To my surprise it answered me immediately.
Ice shot through the air as I flung my hand at Satan. It hit the heat surrounding him and sizzled, burning into steam. He charged and I ducked, missing both the fist he aimed at me and the kick he tried for half a second later. I rolled out of the way. Just being able to avoid him was a fucking thrill.
I threw ice at him again as I tried to sort through the vision Baldur’s gift had given me. I’d seen what I was capable of, but it had been so compressed it was hard to pick out individual things. Heat and speed, strength and toughness, cold and teleportation, powers that I’d been able to use before. But there was more. The ice hit the aura of heat around him and burned into steam again, but it seemed a little slower this time.
“You’ve been practicing,” he said, and was that a hint of pride in his voice? Fuck, could he taint even this?
“Not enough, but maybe enough to hurt you.” I threw ice at him again and charged. It wasn’t safe to get close to him, but I really fucking wanted to hit him. I wanted to see if it would hurt. The ice and resulting steam distracted him and I swung as hard as I could.
I hit him. I fucking hit him, right in the jaw. It motherfucking hurt my fist, but I saw him flinch and it left a little discolored spot on his false white skin.
I left a mark. A fucking mark.
High on my accomplishment, I didn’t move fast enough to avoid his next punch. He hit me hard in the stomach, forcing me to double over. He followed up with a knee right to my fucking face, which made me snap back the other way and crumple to the floor. Several minutes of beating followed where all I could do was protect my face and curl into a ball. I was goddamn frustrated that I was
in the same fucking situation I always ended up in. I got in one solid kick on his shin and I heard him curse, so I hope it fucking hurt. But after that it was just a beating and I ended my glorious chance at victory passed out on the basement floor.
Chapter 13
When I woke up I was in my room and I hurt fucking everywhere. It was dark, the deepest part of night, and my curtains were open just enough so when I looked out I could see the almost-full moon hanging in the sky. I shifted to the edge of the bed and dug through my bedside table for the pain killers. Last time had been nothing compared to this. Last time I hadn’t passed out. I tried to find a position that didn’t hurt and couldn’t. All I could do was keep shifting and wait for the painkillers to kick in. As I moved around, something poked at me and I dug Baldur’s gift box, now empty, out of my pocket. I stared at it for a long time, bitter anger rolling through me.
It hadn’t been enough. Hope and the knowledge that I would be something more than this hadn’t stopped me from getting a beating. But really, what had I been expecting? I knew I was coming back to a beating when I went home. I asked for it, practically begged for it. The bitter anger started to fade as I thought about that. I hadn’t been a coward. Instead of trying to hit him I could have tried to teleport and get myself out of danger. I’d made the choice to try to hurt him instead.
And I had. All trace of my punch to his face was probably gone now, but for just a moment, I’d left a mark on the devil’s face. I’d hurt him. And I would keep getting stronger. Baldur’s gift had shown me that. What I’d done today was only a small glimpse of what I’d be able to do in the future. I didn’t know how many more beatings I’d have to take before that day came, but just knowing it would come was enough to keep me going.
Not My Apocalypse Page 11