The First Male

by Lee Hayes

  I remember.

  I remember.

  I remember.

  Simon’s mouth suddenly filled with the taste of blood and he could smell its pungent odor in the air. A horrifying image flashed in his head and then he remembered. He remembered slowly licking the blood off the knife that was used to stab the driver. Simon grabbed his stomach, fighting the urge to regurgitate. Blood. He had tasted another man’s blood in a vile display of domination. Blood. He remembered the joyous manner in which he licked the knife, savoring the sweet taste of unadulterated power; it was unlike anything he had ever tasted. He remembered craving more of it; the taste of it was an aphrodisiac.

  Simon choked back the disgust that filled his throat; the man that did that disgusting act wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been him, but the memory was crystal clear. Could everything else he remembered be true except that one thing? Simon readily accepted the truth of everything he remembered, but digesting blood was the one thing that he could not force himself to accept. If he accepted that, then he had to face the fact that he was becoming a fiend—a beast—something born out of nightmares. This wasn’t a haunting; it was a transformation.

  I’m losing my fucking mind.

  How could any of this be? Brooke may have spoken her truth and denied the events the way he told them, but her explanation didn’t feel right in Simon’s spirit—in spite of the fact that now he wanted to believe her. It would be so much easier to believe her simple truths. He’d been home all night. Sick. With fever. Medicated. But, he couldn’t swallow that story. Her truths were lies. He had gone to Starry Nights and he had tasted blood. Something was wrong with him. Very wrong. He only wished he knew what it was.

  His cell phone vibrated on the table. He picked up it and saw that it was a message from Debbie. Her simple text message confirmed what he knew was true.

  Byron is at Tulane Medical Center. You betta lay low for a while.

  Simon gasped.

  CHAPTER 8

  Addie knew that Eli was right: a storm was coming. She didn’t need her full strength or power to feel it gathering somewhere in the distance. An ever-present shadow, creeping like mist over a calm ocean, occupied a corner in her mind; she simply couldn’t shake it. The hairs on her forearm sometimes stood on end and she could feel the chaos in the air; it was an ominous sign of things to come. The storm would hit when the dam she erected to hold back his power finally broke. Over the years, the wall had endured much, and there were times she felt it would crumble; but she willed it to stand, sealing the ever-increasing cracks with the sheer power of her mind. She wouldn’t be able to patch the wall much longer; she knew that. She had grown weary; her powers, stretched thin. And, he grew too strong as the date of the Ascension drew near.

  She feared what would happen when her spell broke. Even more, she feared that darkness lurked in his heart.

  If she could contact him before his twenty-first birthday, the date of the maturation of his powers, she could possibly influence him—sway him to stay in the light; but ultimately she knew that when he saw the proverbial fork in the road, he, and he alone, would decide his course and consequently, the course of the world. She prayed that the goodness she had planted in his heart at birth had taken root and blossomed. She prayed for the world.

  As the day neared, her connection to him had grown stronger, strong enough now that she was able to isolate his energy in the spirit realm. Her powers were muted, tame in comparison to what they used to be, but she had been able to transmit sounds and images to him; but, she wasn’t sure how her messages were perceived by him in the real world. They could have been anything: a faint whisper in the night; a faded image while he slept; an oddly shaped cloud during a thunderstorm; or some strange electrical flicker as he watched television. Anything. And, any day now, he’d grow strong enough that they all—including the shadows—would feel his powers; enough that they’d be able to locate him—the sum of all her fears.

  Addie kept trying to find him, even through her present difficulties. She had enough power to uncloak him now, so that she could find him; but if she did, the shadows would instantly feel him as soon as the veil was lifted, and they would claim him while she was immobile. So, she kept him hidden—even from herself—because the cloaking spell was blinding to all, and she searched for other ways to find him.

  For over twenty years now, Addie had suffered silently, entombed in a shell of a body, unable to move on her own or speak. She had been locked away ever since the night Simon had been born; that night, so many things went wrong. Her prison without walls kept her physically immobile, but her mind never stopped moving; never stopped thinking. Because he was still wrapped in her binding spell, and because they were connected by blood, she had always been able to detect his presence, even faintly. Over the years—as it was with his father—there were times she could feel what he felt, but the sensation was never as strong as it had been with Thomas. She felt his spirit, but could never see his face through the haze. Then, weeks—sometimes months—would pass before she felt him again, leaving her with nothing more than a spiritual fragment of his existence. Recently, however, her body had begun twitching, and she knew it was due to his power and the weakening of her spells. The time was upon them—the Ascension. Once her spells crumbled, much of her power would return to her, but it still wouldn’t be enough to beat back the dark; not if the dark owned his soul.

  Addie sat alone in her room with the television turned on the nightly news and she concentrated. The nurse had just made her rounds and left the room. Now was the perfect time for her to try again to make contact. With all the force she could muster, she projected her thoughts to Simon. She hoped he was in an open mental state so that he could receive them. No doubt, by now, he had experienced extraordinary events, events she hoped would make him more amenable to her connection. If he was open to receiving, she’d have a better chance of making a meaningful contact.

  She concentrated. She focused her mind and let it travel across mountains and valleys; she moved over rivers and lakes and jagged terrain. She was drawn to him, to his energy, but she was pulled in many directions, an effect of her cloaking spell. Today, for the first time, she saw a house. She saw a run-down house, located at a busy intersection, in some non-descript urban area, but she didn’t know in which city the house was located. She struggled to see anything that might tell her more. Quickly, her eyes scanned the area—she knew she didn’t have much time before her spirit moved on. Her mind’s eye finally fixed upon a street sign partially hidden by the branches of a knotted old tree. Just before she was pulled into the house, she saw a sign tacked to the door of the house that read: 8707 Oakley.

  Her mind entered the room. She saw someone standing near the door, their back to her. It was him. She could feel his presence. She needed him to feel her, too. She needed to see his face.

  Turn around, she whispered with her mind. Turn around.

  He twitched as if he felt something.

  Turn around . . . Simon.

  Slowly, his head began to turn, but as he did, Addie was snatched back to her harsh reality.

  “Addie, how are you today, my love?” Eli’s affectionate voice filled her room at the convalescent center. Instantly, her body stiffened and she was flooded with dread. Not again. Not now. He appeared out of the shadows and stepped forward coolly. Addie’s body tensed into a tight knot. She wanted to cry out, to scream and to holler, but she had no voice and it would have been a colossal waste of her energy. Her only option was to get a message to Simon. Only he could save her—if she could reach him—but she didn’t know if he had already been polluted by the shadows. By now, his heart could be as black as coal.

  Eli sauntered easily across the room, slowly removing his black leather gloves and smiling delicately. He dropped the gloves onto the dresser and took a seat in a chair, crossing his legs.

  “Addie, my dear,” he began, his voice deep with impatience, “I hope we have a better meeting today than we had last ti
me. I’m growing tired of this charade, and I’m sure you are, too. If you stop being so obstinate, we could find an amicable solution. Let’s work together to restore the natural order before this gets out of hand. Do you have any idea of the chaos that awaits us all? Help us bring order to the world before it’s too late.” He huffed loudly and looked around the room as if he was bored. “The rules have changed, Addie. The world as we know it has changed. All of your prophecies and witchy stories don’t matter now. Everything has changed!” His voice was thunderous, tumbling violently off the walls, and his eyes went completely black for a few seconds. “You will help us or you will suffer and die in ways you cannot even conceive. Now, I’ll ask you again. Where is Simon?”

  “Eli, let us be kind today.” The sound of a woman’s sweet voice filled the room. Addie could not move her head, but out of her peripheral vision she saw a woman almost glide into the room from the hallway. Her energy filled the space with a warm, golden light. She, dressed in an all-white gown with a golden belt tied around her waist, moved effortlessly over to Eli, her feet never touching the floor. Her straight, shoulder-length, fire-red hair blew gently in a wind that, apparently, she generated. Her beauty was refined and dignified, not overdone. She looked regal, like a storybook queen from some fairy tale that people often told their children; a story that ended with the words happily ever after. If she was in cahoots with Eli, Addie knew this story would not have a happy ending.

  She stroked Eli’s face lovingly, as a mother would a child. Addie watched the fury drain from his face upon her first touch. “Let me handle this, darling.” Her voice was soothing, yet commanding; her smile affectionate. Without protest, Eli moved over to the corner and took a seat in the chair, rolling his eyes as a child would who had been chastised.

  She moved close to Addie and stroked her hand, while looking directly into Addie’s curious eyes. Her touch was warm.

  “Hello, Adelaide. My name is Rebecca, Rebecca Saint.” When she spoke, her words were very proper, enunciated with crystal clarity. Her words sound enchanted, almost musical, filling the room with a melodious rhythm. There was something familiar about the woman, and Addie wondered if they had met in a previous life, under different circumstances.

  Despite her delicate appearance, Addie feared her more than Eli; she was unsettling, like the calm before a calamitous storm. “How are you today?” she asked in a syrupy sweet voice, as if she really expected an answer. “We have come to you for your help,” she continued, her voice suddenly laden with concern. She walked over to the window and stared into the night. “As you know, the time is near and there is nothing anyone can do to prevent it. Not I. Not you. Not Eli. What we can do is prevent a brutal apocalypse.” She turned and leaned against the window, resting her back. Addie suddenly felt her chair turning in the direction of Rebecca. The chair screeched as it scratched across the floor; they were now face-to-face, but across the room. “Do you not know who I am, Adelaide Thibodeaux? I sense no recognition from you. Is my face so unfamiliar to you? Has it been that long?” She folded her arms and took a few steps toward Addie, her heels now clicking against the floor. She leaned in and whispered in Addie’s ear. “How quickly you forget your crimes, Adelaide.”

  Addie searched her mind furiously. There were so many things that she had lost over the years trying to hold onto her strength; some things she had willingly let go.

  “I suppose you wouldn’t remember,” Rebecca continued without missing a beat. “It was such a long time ago and so much was going on that night. Fire. Storm. Rain. I was there. Almost twenty-one years ago you stole my child.” The woman’s voice remained gentle, but her tone soured. She paused to let the knowledge sink into Addie’s head. “You ripped my baby from my womb and left me to die.” In that instant, Addie expected to feel the brunt of some force from her or Eli, but none came. “Did you even know my name, or anything about me before you kidnapped me from my family and left me to die? Did you know that I loved your son, Thomas, and when you killed him I almost died, too? It broke my heart. Still does. You and your band of banshees killed Thomas, incinerated his soul. How could a mother do such a thing to her one and only child?”

  How can this be? Addie thought to herself, her insides twisting.

  “It can be; you have made it so,” Rebecca said quickly. “Do you see how easily I entered your head? You are becoming weak. It’s only a matter of time before your spell falls and we have access to all that you know and to my son. Why not tell us where you have hidden him? I am his mother, after all. I deserve to know.” Rebecca’s face suddenly flashed before Addie’s eyes. She remembered her. Then, her hair was blonde, but it was her, the girl whom Addie had stolen from an unsuspecting family. She was the vessel; the mother of The One—the Dark Mother. “I can feel him—my son—just as you can. We are of the same blood. So I will find him. Help us, Adelaide. Please. You now have an opportunity to right your wrong after all these years. Let us be done with it.”

  Eli jumped up and moved closer to Addie, his patience growing thin. He kneeled in front of her and looked into her eyes. “Look at my face, old woman. Do you even know who I am?” he asked as he searched her eyes for even the slightest hint of knowledge. “Really, you can’t see it? You can’t feel it?” Addie paid attention to his face, carefully considering his features. “Old woman, you’re off your game—you’re slipping. All this time I’ve been in your presence and you didn’t know who I am; that’s shameful.” He stood up, adjusting his shirt. “I am a part of the whole.”

  He moved over to the dresser, floating up and sitting on a clear space on top, shaking his head in disappointment. “I can’t believe we have to explain this to your simple, incompetent ass.”

  “Eli, be careful of your words,” Rebecca chastised. “I have taught you better than that. Curse words are so . . . common,” Rebecca admonished. “You’ll have to forgive him. You know how impetuous young boys can be.”

  Eli continued, “The night you snatched Simon—I assume you know his name—from his mother and Eetwidomayloh you failed to realize something so fundamental.” He leaned his face toward her, his eyes tightly drawn into dark slivers and he spoke in a sharp whisper. “You snatched one child . . . when there were actually two. My mother was pregnant with twins, you fool.” Addie’s heart pounded, her throat tightened. “Do you get it now? I am your grandson also, and because of your inept witchery there are now two when there should be one; two who must share power instead of The One who was to rule; but it’s okay. We are kings of kings, my brother and me.” Rebecca moved over and placed her arms around her son. “I bet your seer didn’t see that one coming, did she?” He chuckled.

  He blamed Addie for this schism in the universal order of things, but she knew the fault was not hers. She had not the power to create such a gargantuan shift in the natural order.

  “Now, Adelaide, do you understand the depth of your crime? Not only have you deprived a woman of her lover, but also a mother of her son and a brother of his brother. You have destroyed a family—my family. How cruel. How so very cruel. You have a chance to make it right tonight, maybe your only chance.”

  Everything within Addie seized up and she screamed in her head with a force that was so strong that Eli and Rebecca felt it, stumbling backward slightly.

  “Please calm down, Adelaide,” Rebecca said, her teeth clenched beneath her smile. “We did not come here to fight.”

  “Who knew you had that much strength left? Impressive.” Eli shook off her power as he would dust that had settled onto his coat. “Why don’t we kill her now, mother? I’m tired of this. We can find Simon on our own. We don’t need this old bag of bones.” His voice was full of bravado, but the nervous glance shared between him and Rebecca wasn’t missed by Addie. In contrast to his bold words, they wouldn’t kill her, at least not yet.

  “You’re right, Addie. We won’t kill you now,” Rebecca said, reading Addie’s mind again. “We know how your magic works. Let’s see, how does it go?” she said
playfully, as if she couldn’t recall the words. “According to your Book of Light, when a High Priestess dies without an annointed heir, her powers combine with that of her ancestors and the strength of her remaining earthly spells are increased, threefold. Is that right? So, you are probably thinking that we will not kill you because, if your binding spell is increased by a factor of three, Simon may never be able to claim all the power that is rightfully his. Is that what you are thinking?” Rebecca paced around the room. “We know that you will not kill yourself, because all of your spells would be broken and your spirit could never ascend and you could never join your ancestors.” She spoke of the truth as if she had experienced it before, directly from the Book of Light, but Addie knew that was not possible; no one other than a member of the sister-clan could read the text. Only a sister knew the language; it was unique, mystical.

  This woman unnerved Addie fiercely.

  “You are ignorant of so many things, Adelaide, but I am not. I know answers to questions your feeble mind has yet to even conceive,” Rebecca continued, hubris tainting her voice, “It is no wonder you did not know about my twins. I must admit that even Eetwidomayloh did not know. Imagine his surprise when you vanished with Simon and my dear Eli burst from my womb thirteen minutes later!” She clapped her perfectly manicured hands and hugged Eli. “That was the happiest day of my life.” Then, she stared into Eli’s eyes and kissed him in a way no mother should ever kiss her child. “I want you to know that I forgive you, Adelaide. I forgive you for robbing me of my other child and stealing my joy. I forgive you for snatching me from my family and for destroying the man I loved—your son—and for denying my children their father. For many, many years, I felt nothing but consuming rage when I thought of you; a rage only a mother could know, but in these final hours, I have forgiven you for what you did to me and my family. I forgive you; a new dawn is breaking. All is well, my dear. All will be well.”