Daimonion (The Apocalypse Book 1)

by J. P. Jackson

  “WHERE’S PARKER?” THE tall horse-man said as he hugged his legs to his chest, sitting on the bathroom floor. He still shivered uncontrollably. His smooth, lean body was slick with sticky goo, the remnants of the demonic pod.

  “What’s a Parker? Actually, before we go there, who the Hell are you?” Hemming asked, and then spun around. “I know your name, Caleb.”

  “That’s my asshole brother Riken. Parker is his boyfriend and just about as much of an asshole as Riken,” Caleb said. Turns out the bear was in an equally foul mood. His voice, though, rumbled out of his big barrel chest. Even in human form, it wasn’t too hard to see that he was a bear of a man. Hemming made a note to himself not to piss the bear-man off. “There was three of us that night when you sharked us on that pool game and then ran.”

  “Yeah. So, about that part. Sorry. I had a job to do, and it got done.”

  Riken leered at me, suspiciously. “What do you mean, job?”

  “Sorry, boys, you were targeted and marked. My boss texted me pictures of all three of you. I found you, and well, the little beasties inside me did what Master said they were gonna do,” Hemming explained.

  “What?” Riken said, his mood was foul.

  “Look, we don’t have a lot of time for me to get into details. I imagine you’re both hungry?”

  Riken glanced at Caleb, and in unison, they nodded.

  “Right, so, you’re hungry because you’ve been trapped for five days in a cocoon that has completely changed you. You might look the same, but you’re not.” Hemming pointed to Caleb. “You can Shape-Shift into a bear, and you—” Hemming swiveled and pointed at Riken. “You, you ornery shit, are a horse with wings.” Hemming shook his head and rolled his eyes. “That is going to make our next step damn near impossible. We need to get you your first meal as a Shape-Shifter, and that will have to be the same animal you change into.”

  Riken glared Caleb with a snotty can-you-believe-this-guy expression plastered on his face.

  “Don’t believe me, huh?” Hemming, who’d been able to change into a wolf for a very long time, focused on shifting his face and, more specifically, his snout.

  Bones cracked and popped, but the boys watched, partly fascinated but mostly horrified as Hemming’s face elongated and human teeth fell out, quickly replaced with a row of sharp canines and protruding fangs.

  “Holy shit!” Caleb said. He was more fascinated. Riken gaped as if the carpet had been ripped out from underneath him.

  Hemming let his face return to human form—which oddly enough, always took less time.

  “Please don’t try that at home or by yourself,” Hemming said in his own snotty way, and then rubbed his face. Shifting always hurt. “No shifting until I teach you what you need to know. Now, please, get showered and cleaned up so we can go get you the appropriate food.”

  “Cool,” Caleb said, and immediately went to turn on the shower.

  God, he’s hairy. Hemming grimaced.

  Riken, who was still regaining his composure, managed to find balance on his gangly long legs, and then glared at Hemming.

  “You still haven’t answered my first question. Where the Hell is Parker?”

  “He didn’t make it.”

  “Christ, man, give me a straight fucking answer!” Riken balled his hands into tight fists.

  Caleb chuckled.

  “What the fuck are you laughing at, you goon?” Riken leered at his brother.

  “You said straight.”

  Hemming tried very hard to suppress a smile.

  “That’s not funny. Where is he?”

  Hemming sobered up from wanting to giggle at Caleb’s remark. He glanced at Riken with as much sympathy as he could muster. Gay or straight, no one wanted to find out their significant other was dead.

  “I’m sorry, Riken. Parker didn’t survive the morphing. His pod rotted. Parker is gone.”

  Riken’s eyes registered a number of emotions—panic, anger, loss. He lost his footing again and slumped to the tiled floor.

  Caleb was at his side instantly. Sibling rivalry aside, it was obvious Caleb cared for his brother.

  “Shit, Riken, man…” Caleb said.

  “Just don’t! Leave me alone.” Riken pushed Caleb away. Turning back to the shower with his head lowered in defeat, Caleb crawled in to wash off the sticky slime.

  “Fuck!” Riken shouted and hit the wall nearest him with his fist, leaving a huge hole in the plaster.

  Well this is gonna be fun. Hemming wasn’t sure what the Hell to do with Riken. Caleb should be easy enough to deal with, despite his size. Riken was going to be a handful.

  JENAE AND I waited in the living room, not saying much of anything as my thoughts drifted off to Alyx, wondering when he would emerge.

  Three men, all cleaned up and clothed, appeared before us.

  Hemming had found some clothes that I had kept from ages ago, quite literally, a century. He wore baggy pants, with a musty old union jacket adorned by brass buttons. A black T-shirt was underneath. The two boys had a mishmash of things on.

  Hemming and I were close in size, but he was skinnier than I was. There was nothing that would have appropriately fit Caleb, nor the other young man, who was as tall as Caleb, but lean and wiry.

  “Caleb and Riken, this is Dati, whose clothes you are wearing and whose bedroom you just destroyed. Say hello, boys.” We made some awkward uncomfortable acknowledgments of each other’s existence. “And this is…”

  Caleb cut him off. “Jenae,” he said with an expected deep, rumbling voice.

  Jenae approached him. Caleb opened his massive arms and enveloped her as she came within reach. Jenae nestled and melted into his huge frame.

  “Okay, yes. Well, I guess that’s, um, yeah, awkward,” Hemming said. “We need to go.”

  “I’m going with Caleb,” Jenae announced.

  “That, you icky little witch, is not a good idea,” Hemming said with a frown.

  “I don’t care what you think. I’m going with Caleb.”

  Hemming gaped at me as if to ask for help. I returned the glare with a you’re-on-your-own stare.

  “Jenae, they need to feed. This isn’t going to be safe, or pretty,” Hemming said, crossing his arms and glaring at her.

  “I couldn’t care less about safe and pretty, and I can look after myself. And in case you’ve forgotten, I bust open people’s chests and eat their hearts. I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever Caleb has to do. I’m going.” She squeezed Caleb’s hand, and he returned the gesture by pulling Jenae in closer to his side.

  I was utterly shocked. Jenae had had a moment of witchery lucidity.

  “Alright, I’m not fighting with you.” Hemming turned his glance to Caleb. “This is your responsibility. Do you understand?”

  Caleb nodded.

  Riken rolled his eyes, but he was noticeably quiet, even shy.

  “We have to be back here in four days, right? And then it’s ‘off to see the wizard’?” Hemming asked, confirming our plan.

  “Sounds right to me,” I said.

  “You’re going to be okay with Alyx’s pod?” Hemming nodded his head in the direction of the master bedroom, knowing I’d be by myself.

  “I think I can handle it,” I said with confidence. In reality, I wasn’t sure.

  “Then we’re off. Let’s go.”

  “Wait!” Jenae said.

  Everyone stopped. She let go of Caleb’s gargantuan hand, disappeared down the hall, only to reappear a moment later with a cloak under one arm and her backpack slung across her shoulder. Caleb smiled when she returned to his side.

  “Okay, now we can go.”

  Hemming stared at me again, silently begging for help. I shrugged my shoulders.

  The four “humans” left, and the Shishi trailed behind Jenae.

  As the door closed behind them, I realized that, for the first time in a very long time, I was alone.

  The apartment was quiet—deathly quiet.

  The place was
ruined. The walls had black stains from Jenae’s dark magic; the air reeked from the hatching of Hemming’s pods; and rips and tears in the furniture were signs that the Shishi had been where they had once been trained not to go.

  In my bedroom, Alyx’s pod lay, faintly chiming as the crystal continued growing.

  The stench was noticeably thicker down the hallway, cloying in fact, as I passed the spare bedroom where Hemming’s egg sacs lay, concave and empty. They would disintegrate and decay now that their purpose was completed.

  Part of me wanted to clean it all up, but there was more drive to go sit and wait for Alyx. I settled onto the floor, got comfortable, and waited.

  Alyx should be ready to come soon. I hoped.

  Crack

  ALYX

  My eyelids popped open. My lips curled back, and a growl erupted from deep within my chest. Heat like flames danced around my eyelids and across my brow.

  I tried to move, but something blocked my efforts.

  And then I remembered everything: the forest with a Satyr, the high-rise apartment, stabbing gut pain, black crystals, entombment within a rock-hard scab, buried alive for days, my flesh being ripped from my body, and then growing back.

  I could feel wet stickiness around my hands and against my back.

  And I remembered the cocoon growing spikes that pierced through my bones and skull.

  I was still trapped.

  A wildfire of anger flared inside, blazing forward until it could go nowhere else but into a howl of rage.

  I wriggled in the tight space and slammed my hand against the enclosure. To my surprise, after several hits, the crystalline structure broke. Shards of jagged crystals brushed past my fingers as they fell into the interior of the shell.

  Hope flooded throughout my body in a furious wave of anxious energy. There is a way out of this!

  I thumped my fist again and again. The crack grew bigger, expanding until light crept into the dark recesses of the cocoon.

  My fingers poked through the hole. An influx of fresh air rushed into the coffin, bringing with it new smells that were cleaner than the rot I smelled within.

  That was all the incentive I needed.

  I would get out of this cursed entombment if it took me days to pummel out of it.

  Hatchling

  DATI

  In the three hundred years I had been alive and the numerous years I had spent with humans, I had never had time or circumstance to experience what it was like to know someone intimately.

  Everything had been for Master.

  Too many questions tortured my brain. What would it be like to have someone to rely on? Was it possible that one person would always be there? Who could trust me that deeply, no matter what? Could Alyx be that person?

  A howl cut through my forlorn questions. It echoed from within the capsule.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  The rapping cut through the room, muffled and deadened, echoing from inside the cocoon.

  I hunched over the crystalline pod and listened.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  And then, crack!

  A thin talon finger poked through the hard casing. The blackness of the cocoon faded into a translucent mesh. I could see a body inside.

  “Alyx!” I was so excited and nervous. I desperately wanted him out.

  I looped my finger around his. He responded. His finger latched onto mine.

  Alyx’s muffled cries seemed to me like shouts for help. The casing should have broken away easily.

  I climbed on top of the pod, no longer caring about my skin touching the structure, letting my fists pound frantically. Despite the crack, the cocoon wasn’t going to give up its contents without a fight. I summoned all my demon rage. Heat flushed my face and the skin of my hands turned ebony. I continued to hammer at the spot where the crack had started, and after several strong blows, chunks of shattered crystal fell away like broken glass.

  With a few well-placed smashes, Alyx’s hand broke free, and I grasped it in mine.

  “Alyx, I’m here! Don’t worry. I’m going to get you out,” I yelled, and his hand tightened around mine. Being as careful as I could, I pulled my fist back and eyeballed a spot halfway up his arm. I beat the crystal until it exploded in all directions.

  Tar oozed out from the pod. The stench, thick and caustic, assaulted my nose. Another punch and the pod collapsed further, exposing his chest.

  Alyx’s talon curled into a tight fist, and he beat the casing around his head. The mineral broke into large chunks. Alyx should have been able to do this on his own, but I wouldn’t let him exert himself to death, trying to break free.

  Furiously, I pulled away shards from Alyx’s face. His chest heaved, and after wiping away the viscous slime and shards, Alyx’s face emerged.

  Despite the filth, he was still the same handsome young man who wanted to help me in Marta’s bookstore. My heartbeat quickened.

  Alyx sucked in the fresh air with a quick and raspy inhale. The gurgle churning in his lungs was audible.

  I raised both arms, focusing all my strength into my fists and plunged them down onto the remaining crystalline cocoon. Ingots of grey shards flew in all directions as the last of the pod exploded.

  Alyx lay amongst the debris. Glassy cocoon fragments littered his body, which was coated with a thick layer of sludge.

  He was finally free from his entombment.

  Alyx’s hair had turned a deep auburn with streaks of copper and crimson. When his eyes opened, the emerald green I remembered was gone. The irises shone bright lime, circled heavily by a black edge. Yellow hints of yesterday now blazed gold.

  Muck glued his new leathery wings to his back. A shiver rippled through his body, jarring the fixed appendages and spraying pitch all over me and the walls.

  Alyx choked, coughed, and then vomited while I held him, a vile mire flowing out of his mouth and nostrils. He repeated that several times, gagging and heaving in between bouts.

  He breathed deeply again. For a brief moment, I thought he was done, as his body went limp from the exertion of ridding his body of the putrid liquid within.

  And then without warning, his entire form went rigid. I felt the reverberations of his chest as a warning growl escaped. Alyx’s head turned towards me. His lips curled back, exposing his new and very sharp canines. Before I could pull back, Alyx opened his demon maw and chomped onto the fleshy part of my forearm, his long fangs piercing the flesh deeply.

  With a fighter’s instinct, my talon made contact with Alyx’s forehead as I pushed him away while pulling my arm out of his mouth. I grasped the puncture wound, putting pressure on the bite. Dark blood welled up from the wound and spilled onto the floor. Little rivulets ran down my forearm onto the back of my talons.

  Alyx, free from my arms, scampered away from me and hid in the shadows of the bedroom corner. He coiled himself into a defensive stance and hissed at me.

  The irises of his eyes flickered, as if on fire, slowly erupting until they were burning bright red.

  “What did you do to me?” he demanded with evil ferocity, his voice filling the room.

  I braced myself for a potential fight while still grasping my arm.

  “Well, that’s a complicated question. You didn’t have to bite me. Damn it, Alyx.” I pulled a pillow off the bed, ripped the covering off, and tore a strip, winding it quickly around my arm and bandaging the punctures.

  Alyx remained frozen in the corner. Strings of ebony slime drooled off of him. He watched my every move with fierce intensity.

  I hadn’t expected a physical retaliation from Alyx. I had conjured up several scenarios where he had been angry with me for stealing his human life and turning him into the demon. I was somewhat taken aback by his current naked and afraid form, cowering in the corner of my bedroom.

  “Come here, Alyx. It will be okay. I promised I would look after you.”

  Eventually, the bright red irises subsided back to green and his body seemed to relax a little. He
didn’t, however, move any closer to me. His face contorted. I thought he was about to start crying.

  I was crushed. My broken promise had such ugly consequences.

  Alyx’s head bobbed around in an awkward manner, not surprising when you consider that he hadn’t moved in days. He brought his hand up to his face and tried to wipe away the sticky pitch that clung to his body. As he did this, an object dropped from his hand.

  Slick with the pods gleaming stringy pitch, it appeared to be a plant leaf.

  This was curious. There should have been nothing left in the pod but Alyx’s human form.

  “Alyx, can you stay there for just a second? You dropped something. I want to see what it is.” He swayed forward a bit and croaked out an acknowledgement.

  I inched closer to Alyx, keenly aware that his rage could bubble forth in an instant. I stooped over the dropped item, inspecting it, and sure enough, it was a long frond. I shook my head. That was beyond strange. Where had the leaf come from?

  Alyx threw up again and groaned.

  “What is this stuff?” he said, hunched over and heaving.

  “You don’t want to know,” I said, without really thinking about how to delicately explain

  Alyx, still dripping sticky strings, glanced at me with a questioning expression on his face.

  “Come on, let’s get you clean.”

  I offered my hand to him, a gesture of peace. He sniffed it, cautiously, then shook his head while coiling himself tightly into the corner. The disappointment crippled me. Instead I simply pointed in the direction of the bathroom.

  Alyx skulked towards it, never taking his gaze off me for very long, until he saw his image in the bathroom mirror.

  I had completely forgotten about the massive mirror that hung over the sink.

  Alyx gasped at his reflection. His eyes widened.

  “Oh my god, what the Hell…” He reached for his face, his fingertips exploring the new demon form that seemed like the old Alyx, but with improved musculature, senses, and talents. His back muscles flexed instinctively, and the large wings flapped uncontrollably, spraying goo up the bathroom tiles.

  His face had a week’s worth of red stubble on it, and he ran his hand over his huge pectoral muscles.