Badass Alchemy

by M J Marstens

  badass

  alchemy

  assassins of the shadow society

  book 1

  m.j. marstens

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Author’s Note

  A Hellish Realm

  Incompetence At Its Finest

  Friends On The Other Side

  A Dickish Ambush

  Smug Souls

  A Vindictive Stabbing

  Tall, Dark, and Fuck Me

  He Ruined It By Speaking

  The Voodoo Queen

  Give and Take

  Poisoned By The Voodoo Queen

  Pride Be Damned

  Like Lionel Ritchie

  Dicked Again

  The Ember That Started The Blaze

  A Hellish Encounter

  A Demonic Deal

  A Dangerous Situation

  Observing From The Tem-Ven

  Demonic Competition

  The Room That Made Me Wet

  Maybe-Ferro Pleads His Case

  The Raging Inferno

  The Orgasm That Still Fucked Me

  Pro Boning

  Next Time, Bring Beignets

  Triplets Means Three

  A-Grave Robbing We Will Go

  Thank You

  HARDASS ALCHEMY

  More By MJ Marstens

  Copyright © 2020 M.J. Marstens

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  M.J. Marstens asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  M.J. Marstens has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any productor vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  First edition

  Cover Design By Jennifer Munswami - J.M Rising Horse Creations

  dedication

  To the very incredible and extraordinarily talented Jennifer Munswami, who did the covers for this series.

  I encourage you to take a moment to go back and look at the cover in detail. It’s truly breathtaking, especially when you zoom in and see the minute details that Jennifer added to the typography and to the image itself.

  This book cover features the character Ferruccio, or Ferro. I understand if you need a moment to drool over the fine specimen staring at you from the cover— I, too, get lost in his hypnotic eyes.

  Thank you, Jennifer, for the delicious eye-candy and the amazing attention to detail. You’ve really made my characters come to life for me.

  author’s note

  This is book one of three in the Assassins of the Shadow Society series. Book two will be out June, and book three will wrap up in August of this year (2020). This is a fast burn RH series with a strong African-American female lead who doesn’t take any shit from anyone, let alone dick souls. The story has strong language and sexual content only suitable for readers 18+. The story is broken into three parts and does end with unanswered questions.

  a hellish realm

  The world is not as it seems.

  It’s made up of many realms.

  For the most part, human religion tries to explain these realms. There are many different versions of Heaven and Hell, and there’s even the concept of Purgatory, but what most people don’t understand is that these worlds are not separated. They mesh together in intertwining layers.

  Purgatory, or more accurately the In-Between, is not a waiting space somewhere between Heaven and Hell. It’s a realm entangled with the Earthly one. Therefore, any human living in the third dimension is also in Purgatory— something anyone working in a cubicle can attest to. Heaven is not somewhere “up there”, and Hell is not hot.

  Again, these two realms are enmeshed with the human one.

  In fact, I’m in Hell right now.

  Or, as it's more commonly known, the DMV.

  Humans might run the day-to-day operations, but I promise you that demons are in charge of this human farce. Point in case: I’ve been standing in this line for over forty minutes only to realize that it’s the first of many lines— which is total bullshit.

  I should introduce myself first, though.

  My name is Sassafras DeJais and I’m a Realm Guardian for the In-Between.

  What’s that mean?

  Basically, I patrol ‘Purgatory’. The In-Between is a place for souls with unfinished business in the Earthly realm. These souls can cross between the two realms, as can I. For the most part, my job is a tedious one done mostly behind the scenes. I simply monitor the souls that have not crossed over yet. Ninety-eight percent of them complete their unfinished business and, then, move along.

  It’s that two percent that screws me over, though.

  These are the souls that have no intention of cooperating.

  Of finishing their business.

  Of crossing-over.

  Instead, they are here to wreck shop.

  Unfortunately for them, that’s where I come in, and I have zero patience for these dick souls. Aside from being able to cross realms, I can also permanently erase a soul’s essence. Meaning— no “Heaven”, no “Hell”, no reincarnation, nada. You piss me off and I will completely obliterate your existence.

  That might sound extreme, but let me tell you about something about these troublemaking souls— every single one of them has one end-game in mind and it’s called possession. Even humans understand this word and pay homage to it every Halloween with a new ghost movie to outdo the previous year’s.

  I’m the last defense between these rogue souls and the human realm and I take my job very seriously. Probably too seriously since there are other Realm Guardians, but no one can clean house like I can; so, they generally just leave it up to me anyway.

  Not that I’m complaining.

  I love my job. I fit in worth shit in the human world. In the In-Between, there’s a quiet acceptance of my presence. No one bothers me if I don’t bother them. As I said, the souls mostly just go about their business and leave me to my own thoughts.

  They don’t try to make small talk or chatter incessantly like most humans— like the woman in line in front of me is trying to do now. She’s turned around five times to comment about this or that. The middle-aged white woman even has the balls to suggest that our line is slower because the man working is colored.

  Motherfucking colored.

  Like this is 1960s Louisiana or some shit. FYI— it’s not. It’s 2020 New Orleans, which means racism has only slightly improved. Unfortunately, it’s still not kosher to strangle stupid assholes.

  At least, not in this realm.

  And that’s why I love my job— because I can choke any dick that comes my way.

  incompetence at its finest

  To be fair, not all souls are in need of strangu
lation. The majority are far more decent than most humans. Souls don’t systematically judge one another on inconsequential things like race. In fact, they don’t even see race- literally, because there isn’t any, same with gender.

  The soul might retain the appearance of their last incarnation, but it’s a comfort tactic while they solve their unfinished business. Something to give them a sense of self and purpose before they move on and forget.

  Sometimes I wish humans would remember this, too. We’re not just the body that we currently inhabit; we are so much more. We transcend all the boundaries that humans create through race, gender, religion, etc., but you can’t tell this to anyone— I’ve seen the more enlightened humans try.

  Humans, for the most part, are assholes. Whereas ninety-eight percent of souls are peaceful and two percent are troublemakers, humans are the reverse. Ninety-eight percent of them make me simultaneously cringe and want to bitch-slap humanity, while only two percent are redeeming our sorry sacks.

  I like to think that I’m part of that two percent, and only because I spend the majority of my time not in the human realm. I probably would be an asshole, too, if I had to deal with humanity on a daily basis. Bless those Guardians that do. How they don’t choke people like the woman in front of me is the true miracle.

  I mean, did it escape this lady’s notice that I’m “colored”, too?

  I just ignore her and continue waiting.

  When I finally get up to the counter for my turn, it takes all of two minutes to concur with the racist old bitch- the man working is utterly incompetent. Not because he’s black, let me point out. Because he’s stupid. Big difference there. He’s currently trying to pick me up while failing miserably at his job.

  “Sassafras DeJais? Cool name. I dig it, DJ. Wick-a-wick-a,” he tries to beatbox, pretending to scratch a record. “Maybe we can go out sometime and you can show me your moves.”

  “It’s pronounced ‘deh-DGAY1’. It means ‘jet black’, like my heart and non-existent soul,” I say with an expressionless face.

  “Ohhh, an emu girl. I like it. Darkness all the way, I say.”

  I give him my blandest stare possible. I also don’t bother correcting his use of ‘emu’ instead of ‘emo’. I’ve learned that keeping silent usually tends to curb the chattier humans. My resting bitch face also goes a long way to help, but this guy isn’t picking up on my ‘fuck yourself’ vibes.

  It absolutely galls me to agree with the woman from before, but this man really sucks at his job. He’s stamped the wrong square twice and crossed out something else. The guy finally concedes defeat over my form and gives me another one to re-fill out. He apologizes profusely and tells me that I can go sit down to fill it out.

  Now, I actually decide to interact.

  Like fuck am I going to sit down to re-stand in this punk’s line for another forty minutes. Because I still have three other lines to wait in. I open my mouth to give this idiot a piece of my mind, but something cold traces down my neck.

  I know a soul touch when I feel it.

  Not even bothering to acknowledge the worker, I spin around and stomp off around a corner that leads to the restrooms. Then, I shift into the In-Between. I’m still in the DMV, but I’m now incorporeal, which means if I go back and punch the worker in the head, he won’t feel it.

  But, I also won’t go to jail.

  It’s a personal dilemma that I’m working through.

  I walk back into the main lobby and scan my surroundings. Remember when I said that souls didn’t really talk? That they mostly keep to themselves- well, that includes touching. So, for one of them to initiate contact means one of two things:

  Someone needs help.

  Or, trouble.

  Glancing around the lobby, I spot the soul who touched me and, even from a distance, I can tell this one is a dick.

  I smile coldly.

  It’s time for this spirit to meet its demise.

  I’m Sass, and I know how to handle dicks like a pro.

  * * *

  1 The /dg/ is pronounced like in the English word ‘judge’.

  friends on the other side

  I should correct myself:

  I’m incorporeal in the human realm, but not in the In-Between.

  Here, if I touch a soul, they’ll feel it and vice versa. Now, spirits can become ‘corporeal’ and touch a human, as demonstrated by the cocksucker who just did that to me, but it takes a lot of energy- energy that should be put toward their unfinished business.

  That’s why if a soul makes contact, it’s serious business.

  In this case, seeing the malevolence radiate off the dick soul, serious trouble. I stare at it assessingly. This spirit is old. I can barely make out the human features that it’s so desperately trying to cling to, that it was a male in its last life is all that I can really discern.

  Another bad sign.

  When a spirit is so old that they can’t remember their previous human self, that means that they’ve been in the In-Between a long time- too long. They’re clearly not interested in wrapping up their shit and moving along. Instead, they want to cause chaos. Souls like these feed off of human panic. Even though they grow weaker every day that they spend in the In-Between, they garner strength from the human realm.

  If a soul finds a human weak enough, it will possess it and ‘live’ through its human host. This happens infrequently because of the amount of energy needed to possess a human, and those souls who are looking to prolong their ‘human’ lives usually are old and weak.

  But some humans are foolish.

  They open themselves up for possession without taking the proper steps. And then. . .

  The fuckshow begins.

  Souls are easy to ‘maintain’ in the In-Between, but once one bonds with a human? It’s nearly impossible to fix. Only a skilled exorcist can detach the leech soul from the human’s without causing permanent damage. Also, it’s hard to determine who’s possessed or not until it’s waaaaaaaaaaay too late. These dick souls aren’t stupid.

  Unfortunately.

  Once they’ve bonded to a human; they know to lay low before enacting their plan of fuckery. And it’s easy for them to do because they get lost in the physical sensation of living again; but once they remember their goal, it’s only a matter of time before they spread their poison.

  And what makes them so dangerous is that these souls are like Dr. Facilier from Disney’s The Princess and the Frog- they have friends on the other side. And souls in the In-Between can wreak a shit-ton of havoc if they’re inclined because they aren’t bound by the laws of the human realm. They help the possessed human gain money, connections, power.

  Then, the soul goes on its merry corrupted way, wrecking a path of destruction all around it in the human realm.

  Funnily enough, most humans attribute these corrupted beings to demons, but I promise you, demons really aren’t that bad. They’re more into pranking humans and being obnoxious, like having four lines at the DMV when one would suffice. And angels aren’t the sweet entities that humans have made them out to be, but they’re not bad, either.

  Good and bad are human constructions.

  In reality, demons and angels just are. Just like a lion isn’t bad because it eats the zebra, demons aren’t inherently evil. Same with angels. They aren’t innocent because they are the ‘zebras’. Both creatures have been given human labels, but neither one is applicable to them.

  But the same can’t be said for souls.

  They should have the same kind of neutrality, but their previous human existence taints them and their thought process. They retain human values, not the good kind, and human wants. Instead of doing their job in helping humanity grow, they become ensnared by the very thing that they are trying to educate against.

  One of the risks of becoming corporeal.

  But, that’s where I come in, along with my fellow realm Guardians- to ensure that these souls find their objectivity again. And if not. . .

  Then,
they meet my trident.

  a dickish ambush

  Yes, I said trident.

  No, I’m not a descendent of Neptune or some shit. The trident merely symbolizes the three types of realms- spiritual, material, and energetic. It’s these three prongs that can penetrate the ethereal form of a soul and annihilate it. The trident is a powerful Voodoo tool that has been passed down from Realm Guardian to Realm Guardian and is blessed continually by the Voodoo Queen.

  Mine was my mother’s.

  She died when I was very young, but my mèrè1, the current Voodoo Queen, tells me often enough about the great legacy that her daughter left kicking rogue-soul ass. I work doubly hard so as not to tarnish that reputation. Which brings me back to the dick soul challenging me now.

  I wonder how many souls my mother went up against as I circle the degraded spirit in the DMV lobby. Its faded appearance is disturbing as fuck, but not nearly as disturbing as the sneer painted on its face. I roll my shoulders and pull my trident from my back.

  It’s spelled to look like a part of my shirt in the human realm but becomes tangible when I whisper the ancient chant to infuse it with life and power. Another Voodoo ritual- imbuing objects with soul essence. I can do this with it in any realm, even the human one. Which means I even have something to fight possessed souls with.

  The difference is that if I fight a soul in the In-Between, like I’m about to do, my trident will spear it into the eternal abyss of Nothingness. But, if I use it to extract a soul that has possessed a human, my trident merely separates the soul from its host. An exorcism is always better because it will weaken the soul more than my trident, making it easier to fight once it’s back in the In-Between.

  Luckily, I’m not dealing with that today. It’s just a non-possessing dick soul still in the In-Between. We dance around one another, alone in the In-Between. Around us, the human world continues as people go about their business in the DMV. Ironically, it’s them who now look like the ghosts. The dick soul and I step through their bodies as we circle around the lobby.