The Conception (The Descendant Series Book 2)

by L. J. Amodeo

  The bigger fear, however, was that the birth of my son would surface an entirely new demon. One that was bigger and less forgiving than his son Luca.

  Where on earth a light shines into a dark place, there will an angel be.

  ~ Unknown

  THE TRINITY

  The council members at the Trinity remained quiet as the earth’s tremors reached their temple.

  “It has begun,” Zadok muttered as the tumult in the realms caused the books on the shelves to slowly inch toward the edge of the bookcase. One book in particular that the Shadow Realm had so viciously sought after without success, fell open onto the stone floor. The same book of Demonicus which had been protected by the Order of the Holy Trinity for hundreds of years. Zadok’s eyes widened at the sight of the opened leather-bound manuscript. Its discolored, worn and rumpled page lay opened, exposing the symbol of Satan; the Sigil of Baphomet with its inverted pentagram, three downward points signifying the rejection of the Holy Trinity.

  The tremors brought great concern to the elders, wondering if this was the coming of the apocalypse. The end of their realm. The annihilation of all that was good.

  “And what of the illegitimate child?” Brice scoffed at the prophet, with a look of blasphemy in his razor-sharp eyes.

  “Aaiom. Bitom. Among us—Fire—Tablet of Union.” Zadok’s voice trembled as his eyes became an empty orb. Each council member gasped; some overjoyed, others skeptical.

  “We can only hope the power of the Blue Light will endure and conquer,” the eldest member stuttered. Erez, barely able to stand on his weak legs, trembled noticeably, holding his cane. “I must retire. My heart is depleted and my body frail. Tobias, my son, see me to my chambers.” He unsteadily held out his hand for Tobias to escort him to his room.

  “Yes, of course, Erez.” Tobias helped the aging elder to his chambers and carefully laid him to bed. Before Tobias expelled the flickering candle at the elder’s bedside, Erez’s feeble hand reached out to grasp his wrist.

  “Should I not awaken from my slumber, you will preside over me. I trust you. You must keep the flame lit, and if the Shadow Realm dares to challenge our legion, you will see to it that the child remains safe, no matter what it takes. Do you understand, Tobias?” Erez coughed, staining the sheets with tiny flecks of blood.

  Tobias was struck speechless, and on the brink of tears, knowing that this would be the last conversation he’d have with a man who had been a father to him for centuries. Obediently, the newly appointed leader choked back his tears, as he sadly watched Erez take his last breath.

  THE TABLET OF UNION

  “Elizabeth! Elizabeth!” Dr. Magus and the maidservants frantically tried to help my rapidly declining health. I wasn’t strong enough to sustain so much blood loss. My heart beat slowly inside my chest, thumping loudly and then skidding to a halt. It had been doing this for some time, yet with each thud, I felt myself slipping away—one breath at a time.

  The mark of the sigil ejected a beam of light from my stomach, making the incision in my belly more painful with each passing minute. Something in my heart told me that it was my child trying to save me. He wasn’t strong enough yet, and focusing all his energies on me would only weaken him. So I had no other choice but to fight him off. I’d had my moment. I’d lived my life, and now it was his time to rise, to fix a world riddled with chaos and immorality.

  I closed my eyes to a vision that only intensified my anguish.

  Michael appeared bleeding and hurt. He lay on the ground, seeming almost defeated, his head resting against the base of a monument: a statue of a woman cradling a child in her arms and an angel at her feet.

  I called to him, but he couldn’t hear me. He’d been crying. Michael lifted his sodden eyes, staring in agony at the statue above him. Slowly, he rose to his feet and to my horror the base of the stone read: Elizabeth Anne Morgan and son lay here, in their eternal rest. I stumbled back in horror, cupping my mouth in disbelief.

  “No! No! No! No!” was all I could cry before my body was pulled weightlessly toward a glorious blue light.

  “No! Elizabeth! Come back! Come back! Come back!” Victoria wailed frantically pounding on my chest trying to keep me conscious, but my spirit floated away.

  In the most haunting experience, I found myself free of my body and hovering above them as they desperately tried to revive me. Faith whimpered, holding my beautiful baby in her arms. If I could go back, just for a moment, it would be to hold my child. To kiss him and tell him how much I loved him. But it was too late for me. My body was empty and my soul had already been lifted, while the sigil on my belly still glowed over my body. My son was not giving up on me. And although I was only a spirit, pools of tears still sprung to my eyes.

  As I watched the doctor, Deborah and Victoria pumping me with oxygen and administering CPR, an enormous explosion rocked the Tablet, knocking some of the angels and the doctor off their feet. Seconds later, a battered Michael ran into the room, gripping his head in disbelief. Within moments, Freddie, bloodied and bruised, appeared as well. In wide-eyed horror, my best friend stood stunned. He too, could only grip his head in shock as his eyes focused on my pale, still, bleeding body, bringing him to his knees. Helplessly, Freddie dropped his head between his shoulders, whimpering like a child. I always knew he’d come back to serve his legion. The Shadow Realm had no idea what they were getting themselves into when they tried to take on Freddie.

  Michael lifted me from my shoulders, cradling me in his arms and crying desperately. He held me so tightly that I was able to feel his agony outside my flesh. His tears were warm against my cold cheek. I reached up to touch where his tear had stained my face, but only felt air as I did.

  “Ahhh! Why? Elizabeth, darling! Why? Why did I do this to you?” Michael’s cries echoed through the Tablet’s grim presence. “No! Not her!” He continued to hold me in his arms, kissing my face, frantically hoping to bring me back. I wanted to tell him it was okay, but I couldn’t move. I was only able to watch. Dr. Magus, Freddie, and the others quietly exiting the chamber, giving Michael the privacy he needed to mourn my death.

  Faith reluctantly walked to stand beside Michael, still holding my child, who appeared lifeless. Her face stricken with fear., she calmly placed her hand on her weeping brother’s shoulder, “Mikael, take your son. Hold him. He is strong enough without his mother,” she whispered handing the still baby to him. Michael gazed at Faith painfully, wiping away his tears as he gently put my limp body down again. Carefully, he took the child from Faith’s arms, staring at him with love and adoration for what our love had created together. Yet fear broke through with beads of sweat sweeping across his temples. The child’s chest faintly rose and dipped. Faith walked around the tablet to stand beside me and opposite Michael.

  The beautiful angel caressed my hair, then my cheek, and finally my lips with the back of her finger. She glanced at Michael, giving him the slightest smile, yet there was a fleck of something painful in her violet eyes. “Father forgive me for what I’m about to do, but there is no other way to save them both,” she whispered before her body elevated and, through her own powerful will, Faith’s aura began shifting, transforming her soul and spirit onto my lifeless body. Her spirit pulled away from her and slowly flowed above me, my limbs jerking and twitching hauntingly while explosive iridescent lights of multi-color illuminated all around me.

  “Faith, what do you think you’re doing? That is not what I meant—Faith don’t!” Michael yelled, reaching out his hand to stop her, but it was too late. Faith was gone, and before I could look back at Michael, a culling force pulled my anima with such intensity that my new spirit was sucked back into my body. The energy, so asphyxiating, caused me to sputter and choke on the air, making me cough profusely to catch my breath as my heart suddenly jolted to a start.

  “Elizabeth!” Michael shouted, cupping my mouth with his own. “Elizabeth!” he cried hugging me tightly. The child suddenly sprung to life, projecting a loud, healthy cry.<
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  Words from my lips could not be spoken, for the sound of his voice, heartbeat, and breath were more lucid than ever before. Graciously, I ingested the glorious sounds of beating hearts, the distinct scent of their flesh, and the enormity of the love they both shared for me.

  The aftermath of childbirth, death and resuscitation left me limp and weakened. I only found strength to move my eyes to where the child rested in Michael’s arms. Carefully, he placed the baby on my chest, as I deeply inhaled his divine scent of wildflowers. “I love you, Elijah,” I whispered. I finally had everything I’ve ever wanted.

  HELL

  In the backdrop of gloomy skies, a violent storm brewed high above the turrets of Dante’s prison. Bare trees whipped about viciously, while wild vines crept and strangled the stone walls of the broken structure. Savage winds beat relentlessly against the doors and windows of the 15th-century manor, causing the interior walls to tremble. This was the sign he had often imagined but never believed could happen. This particular ancient prophecy had proclaimed another sort of lineage, a lineage he had so patiently waited for. But on this night, his blood turned cold, fearing this exact misfortune for thousands of years.

  Dante gripped the Glen-cairn glass of bourbon before it hit the floor, as the vibrations intensified in the deepest part of the earth’s core. Flaring his nostrils and baring his teeth, Dante spread his arms apart and lifted his head to the ceiling, silently calling to those who continued to worship him. His body abruptly heaved forward, then back with a snap of his spine and a twist of his knees. With his knees facing back, his inner beast began to take shape. His fangs brutally tore out of his gums, staining his lips with black venom. His eyes bled out until they paled like the frosted moon. Dante’s neck turned in a frightening 360 degree rotation as he watched his jagged fingernails rip painfully through his skin.

  In a chilling howl, Dante broke his chains, and let the world know that the beast had awakened. “Nunc vindictam meam incipiat!” he chanted, rousing his armies throughout the universe. “Abigar! Awaken your army!”

  “Sanguis bibimus . . . Corpus edibus . . . Rolle corpus . . . Satani, Satani, Satani . . . Ave, ave Satani.”