by Kai Leakes
Sanna could tell that Khamun knew that would not be enough for something created by the devil himself, but he decided to have fun anyway. She watched Khamun rip the King’s jaw, letting it hang and watching it mend itself. Pushing the King onto his face, he walked away, saturated in blood with a fanged smile on his face.
“You and yours have been trialed and judged. Do you have anything to say before your sentence?” Khamun grumbled.
They all watched as the Cursed King stood, madness still fueling him making his broad shoulders shake in laughter. “Until we meet again?”
Before he could mist off, Sanna gasped then smiled.
Khamun turned quick as a cobra and snatched the Cursed King by his leathery wings ripping them from his back. Khamun yanked hard to pull the Cursed King against him then grabbed him by his throat. With one motion, he punched his fist through the King’s spine. It exited through his broad, scorched chest. Groans of a thousand souls wailed around them. Hands seemed to reach out begging for help, for release. Khamun’s wings stood erect from the force of it all. His head dropped forward, fangs extended, and then he tore at the Mad King’s neck. The sins he drank were too much for him at that moment and Sanna could tell.
“Wound him ; he’ll meet his death soon, Khamun,” she hastily commanded him. Khamun had fed from too many and this could be too much she feared, so she had to act fast before he became sick physically.
His grip on the King grew tighter and as he began to shake. “I got this.”
The wails of many souls surrounded them all causing a tornado of debris, blocks of marble, brick, and other items. Khamun’s growl echoed in her heart. She connected to him to give him her all. Fire erupted then she watched Khamun’s sinisterly grin. “Burn . . . in . . . hell!”
With a rip of his hand, the King hollered. Demonic hands reached for his contorting body, pulling him to the gates of hell down the midnight-dark tunnel. White light washed over everything sealing the tunnel. A lump caught in Sanna’s throat. Reality instantly hit her. Calvin.
Kneeling over Calvin’s and Nydia’s lifeless bodies, she glanced up to see her cousin’s soul watching her. He stood in his warrior attire from Africa. War paint covered his toned body. His weapons were in both hands, covered in sizzling demon blood. Near his side, stood Nydia, a woman who took Sanna’s breath away.
She laid a hand against Calvin’s arm watching Sanna in a regal queenly state. Matching tattoo glowed in power. Her long braids were no longer lined in blades, but now lined in conch shells. Polished maple-brown skin decorated in warrior paint replaced reptile scales. Nestled between each fingers were demon blood-covered bladed claws with that of a sword in her left hand. Tears lined Sanna’s eyes. The feel of Khamun behind her let her know that he saw them too. They had protected everyone. Nydia had shown her worth. The quick sound of guns cocking made Sanna looked up.
Lenox stood wide-legged, icy blue eyes glinting with anger with two barrels pressed against the skull of their emissary’s red hair. “This is the third time I was present at his death. I’ll always have his back. Back away, witch.”
Winter held her hands up, tears falling. “Please, Lenox, is she really . . . is she gone?”
Sanna couldn’t say anything. Her heart was torn apart. Her cousin had died. Nydia lay over his body, their hands entwined. The pulse of their hearts was no more; the tether of their souls was fading from her. Sanna gently moved Nydia by Calvin’s side, keeping their hands together.
Winter whispered again, visibly in pain, “Is . . .”
Frustration bubbled up in Sanna, which had her taking it out on Winter. “Yes! Now it is your duty to remind your mistress of what she owes us and when she awakens, you know what the hell to do. Get out of our faces. Go!” Sanna covered her eyes with both hands.
Tears spilled through her fingertips, lighting up both bodies in her hurt. The trembling touch of Winter’s hand on Sanna’s shoulder had her sending a mental flash of orders. At that same moment, Lenox’s protecting presence shadowed them as Kali’s screams echoed in the chamber.
Kali ran and fell over Calvin’s body, her cries of pain cutting through everyone. Winter’s sad sapphire eyes locked with Sanna before disappearing.
Khamun’s loving touch and words gave Sanna’s strength in the moment. She watched him go to one knee to pick up his fallen brother. “We give him honor.”
Sanna sat choked up. All she could see was her dead cousin before she quietly requested, “Please, take her with us too. She sacrificed herself for them both.”
Khamun solemnly nodded picking the Medusa up, then sending them all back to the Council chambers. Once there, Khamun laid them side by side on a wide marble table, respectfully keeping their hands together.
Kali’s pleas continued. “He made it past his birthday. This can’t happen. Please do something please, please.”
Her painful words hit Sanna repeatedly. The sound of the chiming clock echoed again, again, and her third eye opened. Voices of the Elders in her present and past flooded her mind. Her dreams with the knowledge of the books caused the language of the First Chosen Fallen to spill from her lips causing her body to shake. Everything she had experienced played in rewind. The spirits she saw, the books, the sacrifices made, and she locked eyes with Khamun.
Water from the fountain of Eden rained over everyone, drenching them in its healing balm. Rays of beams from the rising sun caressed broken glass, cascading flickers of light within the hall. Khamun dropped to his knees. Tears rimmed his bloodshot eyes. He studied the body of his fallen brother and the woman at Calvin’s side as they lay as if in a deep sleep. His spinal blade rested against his back, ebbing with its power to rapidly connect with his aura then swirl ’round his muscle-tensed arms.
Sanna could see he was scanning for something. His head would occasionally look around pausing on the spirits of Calvin and Nydia. His hands moved around, reaching out as though putting something invisible together and into him before glancing up. Back in command, Khamun pointed at everyone in the room, directing everyone to stand at Cardinal points. Exhaustion had him running both hands down his face, and wearily pulled his locks into a ponytail.
Battle worn, blood from his wounds slid down his taut arms and sides dripped to the floor. His eyes settled on Sanna before he fisted his hands then whispered, “Blood to blood. Brother to brother. Sister to sister. Mother to father. The Light is our binding and let no man or demon tear us asunder.”
Sanna felt their spiritual connection strum like a guitar string, causing her to feel as if she were bathing in bliss. Knowledge from anon ominously spilled from her lips and she bowed forward, her dripping wet mane falling into her angelic face. “What was broken shall now be healed.”
“As so it is said, so shall it be. From the Most High blessings will fall,” Khamun earnestly stated.
Both knew what was being asked from them. The hope of the Nephilim race lay in their hands; their rebirth was on the cusp of this war. Hands entwined, San glanced at everyone.
Both she and Khamun signaled to their Dragons. As Sanna watched her sister Amara hand her the Shroud of the One son, she, her brother, Take, and Kyo gently covered Calvin and Nydia’s resting bodies in respect as his family.
Sanna placed a hand over the lovers’ entwined hands. Her fangs ripped from her gums. The sound of Khamun hiss let her know that he was also ready for the next step. Khamun’s beautiful mahogany flesh glowed copper, matching that of his watching father. His amber eyes simmered like heated embers and his body bulked more. The future was now and the healing was just beginning. On cue, both she and Khamun dug their fangs into Calvin’s and Nydia’s bodies. Ryo and Kyo opened their majestic mouths then roared covering the bodies in flames.
Light washed over everyone in the room as the wings of the Sin Eater and the Oracle expanded. The sound of drums ebbed in the great hall. The ancient soul song from the First Chosen connected with everyone’s spirits syncing them to it as the world fell to silence and a moment of peace wa
s felt around the world.
And the world will lift up in peace.
The fallen will end up redeemed.
All that was lost will live on and heal.
And the children of the Chosen will succeed.
All that fell will be cleansed.
And love will conquer all pain.
Chapter 25
The silence in her mind was deafening. No longer was she captive to the confusing muddle that only she could hear. No one understood how truly intense her madness was. She operated on fear, something she never realized until now. It was also something her community of killers never caught on due to her mirrored condition of her father. However, now here she was lost again in her mind, but this time, in peace.
The kingdom was in an uproar with the loss of numbers on their side. They had lost many souls in that battle and found out many truths of certainty. One truth was that the legend long ago forgotten had been reborn. The mouthpiece of he who shall not be named was alive with that of his divine weapon, the Reaper. This sparked the return of the Sin Eaters.
There was no making her theirs. With the Reaper’s return, their side was now worried that other Sin Eaters would come into light again. For if that happened, the scales would tip and a balance would come about. A balance they did not want, so they had to stop the repopulation and find the other books.
“We start the end of days now! Bring me the book!”
She heard her father roar and his sickening madness rubbed at something within her. He didn’t care that she had just lost her Protector, not that she believed he would. He didn’t care that his son, the dark prince, was alive on their side. Correction, he cared. He took out his revenge on her body for not taking out her brother those many years ago, but how could she have? He was the other half of her, her darkling mirror, her best friend. Nydia. Marco. Winter.
See, these were things she couldn’t remember in the time the darkness muddled her mind, no, when her mother’s murder muddled her mind. She felt the eyes of her ex-lover and true Elder in her kingdom on her: Jacques. He watched her in quiet reserve. She knew that look. Understood exactly what was going on in his mind.
The man never should have let her touch him because now things were different. He did nothing but sit back and cause chaos among both sides, and now she knew it. He got joy out his power. Joy out of playing the middle and she guessed she would have to at one time or another. However, what he was doing was foul in both societies. The fact that he did nothing when the Mad King went out of his way to kill his Queen, the fact that he practically put the gun in Reina’s small hands . . .
She could remember her mother showing her and Marco something she had hidden. She had taken them deep within the underground city that was the Cursed kingdom and she have felt a slight shift in the atmosphere where they stood. She remembered hearing Marco saying the land felt different, that this was not home. She then remembered hearing her mother say it was part of their true home, where their father could never step foot but they could. It was curious back then and it was curious now. She wondered . . .
“Reina! I want her head do you hear me? She may be in her full bloom but I will still have that Oracle bitch.”
Locked in her daze, she quietly nodded in silence and she watched her father’s crazed eyes gleam in satisfaction. He stood bloodied, burned, and battered. Bullets were lodged into his flesh that none of the Witches or Warlock medics could pull out. He was still cut and bleeding from the fight with the Sin Eater and Oracle. His torso held an open, gaping wound. His charred chest held the claw marks of the Sin Eater’s soul snatch and his neck held the Oracle’s bite mark, which was currently eating at his flesh. Her father was a walking zombie in a sense. His once-mighty wings were now stubs of torn flesh, true representation of his Fallen identity.
However, through it all, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about all the blood that was on their hands. He didn’t care that she had just killed her best friend and her lover. All he saw was traitors as he walked around in unhinged torn pieces of flesh. As if he wasn’t a failure.
“Daddy is going to be mad,” she muttered to herself. Her father had the child Brandon in front of him, screaming about the book, and needing the blood of the One Son.
“It’s not for yews! No, no, no! It’s mine!” Brandon screamed in a tirade.
A swift swipe, then the shout of Jacques had Reina watching in shock. Blood coated the floor. The child’s body lay depleted of life, his soot-black eyes turning cold with death. She had sat observing, listening to the ramblings of her father. The voices in her mind were calm but that touch of madness she had changed. It made her different, and ready to lash out on her enemy when that child fell to his death. But, a problem arose the moment the King stood behind her, decaying before them, although his Warlock was fixing it as they all sat. She felt him dig his nails into her flesh, cutting at the skin of her own neck while he spoke.
“Fool! He was the key to reading the book!” Jacques yelled, his hands gripping his chair.
“The child is nothing. We have the book and my daughter will rectify the losses. She will regain our numbers, as we all will. The Princess will step into her rightful power with her new responsibility as the leader of the Horsemen,” her father countered.
Reina was shocked, pleased, and pissed. She knew this was another ploy to keep her by his side, so that she wouldn’t stray to play her games of power within the kingdom. He knew what she wanted. She wanted Jacques’s position. She wanted the crown and he was making sure she would not have it by sacrificing her to be the punching bag for the true King. Lucifer.
Her mind screamed, and betrayal flowed into her. She felt her eyes go silver as the air around them chilled. This was new. This was what she wanted. This was what the Mad King was afraid of.
“She will be my grand warrior. I took you from your weak mother. Then ended her tainted existence as my false queen and now you will wear that mantle and fight as a true Dark Ark.” He cooed in pride in his soulless eyes.
He bared his fangs then shouted, “Bring in the demons.”
Tension had her ridged. She knew what was coming. He was going to infuse her with the demons like he did Nydia. She remembered that pain Nydia went through. She remembered the wall, too, and she knew as he watched her and undressed her with his sick eyes that he wanted her in his bed next.
Al igual que el infierno. Like hell would he ever touch her.
She knew she wasn’t his daughter anymore just flesh and as she sat in stupor, the words from the Oracle rang in her mind. She would be her mother’s retribution. Everything happened fast. The moment the King dropped his head to give her the royal kiss on her lips, his hands on her thighs, she watched him step back and hold his hands out in celebration.
“We will win this; we will be victorious in bringing hell on earth!” he yelled.
Reina smiled and stood with him, as the Warlocks and Witches made their way to her. She saw her own Witch Winter, the hatred in her sapphire eyes blazed bright and she knew her Witch was on her side. That confirmation had something from within her snap. As if on cue, she pushed back to walk around the King.
“No. I want your crown, Papi,” Reina coldly whispered.
Her blade was at his throat then she slashed deep. The chains from her wrist wrapped around his throat cutting at the rest of his charred flesh. Her father’s dark red blood spilled as his eyes widen in satisfaction, and fury. Her head bowed forward. Her then mouth lapped at all that he spelled from him. Then pleasure of her wings slashing out and ripping forward to impale him from behind made her gleefully smile. The Dark Lady then unhinged her asp ring, revealing the Nail of Nazareth, given to her and blessed by both the Oracle and Sin Eater.
“A final gift from the ones you tried to destroy, Papi, and a kiss from Mommy.” She gave him a kiss as old as time: the kiss of Judas.
Sinisterly smiling, she saw everyone in the room try to fight to get to her and end her life. Jacques was held down by Winter, who loc
ked him in chains of iron while she sat straddled on his lap. His head was in her arms ready to snap it at the signal. Everyone knew not to move toward the Elder or he would be done and that would bring nothing but war from the true King.
Reina plunged the nail into his heart and she almost came at the sound of his pain. All of the sins she knew were replaying for him, slicing through him. All the torment of the world was turning in on him. His weak shell was done. He was not a true Elder, not like Jacques. Jacques would be hard to kill, but shockingly her father was simple and easy to take down. She laughed then dropped his body. She snickered as she took a blade from the wall and stood on his throat, the blade pointing at him.
“This is for Marco and for you tainting me to become the Betrayer. Thirty slashes equals the thirty pieces of silver you gave me!” she shrieked.
She knew as he stared into her maddened eyes who she truly was, and he laughed in pleasure before she beheaded him. She dropped down on his chest. Ripped out his husk of a heart, and then used the nail to stab it again. Underneath her, she held on as the body groaned, bulked, and then exploded into black-red visceral goo. Every drop of the King fused again then turned into glowing white ash before his voice could be heard in the fires of hell. He was no more. He was officially truly Lucifer’s and she smiled.
Tilting her head to the side in satisfaction, Reina flipped her hair over shoulder then slowly stood. Covered in the blood of her father, she walked to the throne, and then took her place as Queen.
Winter climbed off Jacques. She unlocked him to saunter next to her side. Jacques smugly sat back, adjust his cuffs, and then stood with a slow clap.
“Touché, but you know I can’t accept what just occurred, baby girl. No, not acceptable,” Jacques pleasantly stated.
She watched him walk off, his fury blazing. It was time to insert her power, but she found herself inwardly laughing before muttering, “Sí, you better run; you know your time is next, lover.”