Daimonion (The Apocalypse Book 1)

by J. P. Jackson

  “What happened to me? What is this, this…gunk? My eyes…they are so different.” He whipped his gaze around in my direction. “What did you do to me?”

  A guttural snarl escaped his throat, and the sound ricocheted off of the mostly stone bathroom. It took him by surprise, erasing his anger.

  “Alyx, I have a lot to tell you, but first, let me tell you I’m so sorry,” I said. “I promise I will guide you and teach you everything you need to know. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t want this to happen, not to you.”

  “Why am I so angry?” Alyx glanced around, confused.

  “That’s a side effect. It will lessen with time, but never completely.”

  “I don’t understand. What happened to my body? I’m huge.” Alyx ran his hands over his torso.

  The demon blood had taken Alyx’s thin frame and amplified the musculature. He was now athletic, bulky, and ripped. Ready to fight if needed, capable of tearing apart most other creatures, human or otherwise. As D’Alae, we had wings, and we had strength.

  Alyx turned his attention back to the mirror. “Oh my god, I have a tail.” He arched his back and flicked his new muscles. “And wings.” He glared at me. “You did this?”

  “Unintentionally,” I said, but with guilt.

  “You’re the same?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are we? What am I?” Alyx’s face was portraying panic, the scent of it permeated the air as well. Panic, fear, aggression. The stronger the emotion, the more we could sense them.

  “Why don’t we get you cleaned up first? And maybe get you some clothes?” I suggested.

  His chest moved rapidly. He breathed heavily, excited, panicked, and unsure of everything.

  “Alyx, I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and I will try to make sense out of all of this.” I purposefully stood away from him, giving him space. His mind raced; his gaze darted back and forth, weighing the options, thinking quickly. We stood there, unmoving. I let him process the situation. His head hung slightly, a motion to me that signaled some measure of acceptance.

  There was a slight sob.

  I stretched out my hand a second time, trying to imply help, kindness, my willingness to make all of this better.

  Alyx ignored it.

  “I can do this myself,” Alyx said sternly and just loud enough for me to hear.

  It felt like someone had sat abruptly on my chest, the weight was so heavy. Alyx had rejected me.

  I grabbed him a fresh towel and placed it on the bathroom counter, then left him to clean himself up.

  I had utterly failed.

  Walking back out to the living room, I found the condo was noticeably too still. After the whirlwind of demons, animals, and witches, the quiet of sitting alone with my discarded affection was isolating.

  Damage permeated every corner of the condo. The black stain of Jenae’s shadow creeper spell marred the walls, and gouges in the ceiling marked where I had been held against my will. The leather furniture had been ripped from the Shishi’s claws. Blood stained the convalescence spot Hemming had taken up and splattered on the carpet from where I had stood when the parasite ripped free of my body.

  I leaned my weight to the side and slid my barbed tail out from underneath, waiting patiently for Alyx to emerge from the bedroom.

  Maybe there was something I could say, something I could do that would change his current mood. Perhaps the morph to demon had clouded his brain so thickly with anger that this was just a reaction after hatching.

  Glass shattered.

  The door to the bedroom door slammed shut.

  In one motion, I went from sitting to leaping over the back of the couch and ran down the hall. I opened the door to the master bedroom to discover the curtains billowing wrathfully as cool night breezes infiltrated the room.

  Broken glass shards caught what little light there was and gleamed back at me from the carpet. No water was running in the bathroom. The towel I’d lain on the counter was wet and lying discarded on the floor near the busted window.

  Alyx was gone.

  The Hunt

  ALYX

  The wind ripped through my thick hair as my talons pierced the concrete exterior of the high-rise. I had flung myself out of the building in hopes of flying away, but I scared myself shitless and instead ended up clinging to the side of the building. It was through this flight and fright scenario that I discovered my new demon talons, and damn, they were tough. Tough enough to pierce through the building’s exterior.

  This shit is cool.

  Small chunks of concrete crumbled and fell to the ground far beneath me—and I could actually track their fall for the entire distance, too. I felt electric, like thousands of tiny buzzing sparks of energy were coursing through me.

  Scaling down the building, my new tail and wings flapped in the breeze.

  A very small part of me felt really guilty for leaving Dati. He seemed to care. No, I know he cared, but the constant rage I felt overrode any guilt I might have felt.

  How the Hell could he do this to me?

  On pure instinct, a growl rumbled through my chest. I could feel my ribcage vibrate with the noise. Bursting with rage, I plunged my talons into the side of the building and a small explosion of concrete erupted. I stopped my descent and marveled at the sharpness of my fingertips and the rippling musculature that kept my body hugging the vertical structure.

  Oh god, what is Mom gonna think?

  What the Hell am I going to do now? Waltz into her shop and say hi?

  Ugh, that is not going to be a good conversation.

  I immediately resented Dati. Hate burned inside of me again. Just thinking about what Dati had done made my lips curl back, exposing my freshly formed fangs.

  I should crawl back up there and rip him apart for doing this to me.

  I inhaled deeply and snorted out a gruff harrumph in disgust. But breathing in the night wind awakened something else in me. The evening was full of scents, ones I’d never noticed. One aroma in particular refocused my attention towards the ground, and it intensified as I scampered down the building towards the street. The prevailing aroma was one of the sweet smell of meat. Rotting garbage was also wafting heavily. I sucked in the night air and was overwhelmed with refuse.

  Eww. that is just gross.

  With a few storeys left, I leapt off the side of the building and unfurled my wings. The air rushed underneath and billowed them outwards. I seemed to know exactly what to do with them, flapping them enough to maintain some buoyancy. I glided gently downwards.

  Hmph. That wasn’t so hard. I should try flying again.

  I scrutinized the wall of the building I had just repelled and followed the tall structure all the way to the top floor. Damn, that was tall.

  Attempt to fly again? Hell yes, but maybe not from way up there.

  I hadn’t stayed in the shower long enough to clean off all the pitch from the cocoon. Gobs of the sticky goo clung to my skin, occasionally dropping and making a splat as it hit the cement. It reeked, adding another unpleasant odour to assault my nose. But despite my own stench and the rotting garbage, that enticing allure of meat kept me intrigued as I followed what I was sure to be a meal. The pleasing whiff rose above the refuse and made me forget about the city waste.

  Food. My belly growled loudly at the thought.

  From the end of the alleyway, my peripheral vision caught movement. Whipping my head around, I spotted a homeless person scavenging through the trash bins in search of new treasures.

  My mouth became wet with saliva, and my heartbeat quickened. The flush of anger returned, giving me goosebumps as my taloned feet gripped the solid alleyway; the stone was cold and moist on my bare but rough skin. I inched a few deathly silent steps closer.

  I sucked in a deep breath and could smell him from where I stood. My eyes rolled into the back of my head from the pleasure the scent triggered. I hunched over and inhaled deeply, filling my lungs to their capacity, trying to smell every
little morsel of the delicious aroma.

  Where are you? I can smell you…

  It was musky and spicy. Drool ran over my chin as I crouched down, catlike, and slowly inched forward.

  I could see his stink before me, drifting yellow wisps of smoke like the tendrils of a snuffed-out candle but gleaming phosphorous, and not sooty black. The smoke swayed and ebbed on the tides of the airwaves. I took another deep breath, savouring the odour. Pleasure flooded my brain, easing the anger that pulsed within me like an alarm.

  Like an idiot, my clawed toes knocked a discarded metal can and sent it scurrying towards the hapless man. I stopped dead, trying to meld into the darkness of the alley.

  The man peered up, greasy hair falling out from underneath his toque, which was pulled down over one side of his head at an odd angle. His face was crystal clear to me in the dark. Dirty and wrinkled, he scowled as he surveyed his surroundings, searching for the source of the sound. After several minutes of paranoid scouring and unintelligible mutterings, he returned to his dumpster diving.

  I decided to take a different approach. From my crouched position, hiding in the shadows of the back alley, I scaled the wall beside me and crawled over it sideways towards the trash bin.

  I positioned myself directly overtop of him. The smell of his human flesh thickened, and the excitement it generated from deep within made me purr with satisfaction. The rumbling noise echoed through the stone and pavement of the back lane.

  The drifter stopped his searching and glanced around again. This time, his face wore no scowl. This time his eyes were wide as he focused on my demonic form clinging to the building from above him.

  A new scent caught my attention, and the hair on the back of my neck spiked. Shivers ran down my spine, exciting me, not frightening me, as the odour grew stronger. I leered at my prey as the man’s eyes became wider, viewing my evil form clinging unnaturally above him. It was fear. A maniacal grin spread across my face, exposing my canines. I could feel them extend as the spicy odour of flesh became complemented with the hints of citrus—that was fear.

  My eyeballs burned hot as another growl of satisfaction escaped from me. Unable to retain or mask my emotions, the new demonic body’s primal instincts took over as thoughts of violence and savagery swarmed my brain.

  I pounced with my talons outstretched. I grabbed his greasy slick coat, wrapping myself around him, positioning myself so that I was behind and grasping him in a bear hug. My talons pierced through soiled clothes into his soft flesh and he screamed in pain.

  My maw opened. I found a bare spot at the base of his neck and punctured the skin with my teeth.

  Blood welled and flowed into my mouth as my teeth hit bone. Hot and sweet, the liquid left a sticky residue that clung to the inside of my mouth and the back of my throat. It was delicious but not what I wanted most. The feel of the flesh on my tongue was satiating me, the soft, squishy human flesh. I ripped what I could from the neck, and my ill-placed bite and rolled my tongue over the small morsel, flipping it around my mouth, playing with my food, until I swallowed it.

  It was the best thing I had ever tasted, the tenderest meat I had ever chewed.

  “Dear God, save me…” the homeless man whispered so quietly I almost didn’t hear it. It was a desperate attempt at prayer.

  His call for help…to that being. It made me want to shrink away. For just a brief second, I loosened my grip on my prey.

  Sensing the release, he struggled and yelled out. But all that happened was a muffled gurgle as blood erupted from his mouth—the thralls of a panicked man attempting to escape.

  Oh no, no you don’t.

  With no god in sight, my momentary lapse disappeared. I bit the man a second time, this time into the top of the shoulder where there was more flesh and less bone. Ripping the meat from his body with a quick jerk of my head, blood flew in all directions as the man continued to scream.

  I didn’t care.

  I ate the larger chunk of flesh, chewing it, savouring every bite until it slid down my throat.

  My prey desperately tried to wrestle free of my grasp. It was useless. He wasn’t going anywhere, but at the same time, his thrashing was becoming more and more annoying. I moved one talon up to his face and began to squeeze. I held him until I felt some bones snap. They made a sickening pop sound. The stranger stopped squirming as he took one more ragged breath.

  I sank my teeth into the other side of his neck as his last breath railed out of his filthy body. He was dead as I ripped another chunk from his body and delighted in its savoury tenderness.

  With no fight left, I released him and ripped the clothes away from his torso, exposing his chest. Using my razor-sharp talons, I peeled off a slice of his thin underdeveloped pectoral muscle. Blood oozed to the surface, but without a heartbeat, the blood didn’t flow with the zest of a living person.

  With great delight, I stuffed the piece of chest muscle into my waiting maw and started to chew.

  I stopped. Instantly. The flesh had turned. It was like acid in my mouth.

  I spat it out violently.

  I snarled at the dead dumpster diver as if he had done this to me, had tainted my meal. But through the anger and unsatisfied hunger, it dawned on me…he wasn’t breathing…he wasn’t alive.

  My food wasn’t alive. What did I just do? I just killed someone…

  What the Hell did Dati do to me?

  A scream of frustration burst out of me. The resulting howl echoed through the backstreet and bounced off the nearby buildings. Every muscle in my body tensed as the yell poured out of me. My wings extended themselves, and my spiked tail stood out, erect. The wail lasted for several minutes. And then, it was over.

  My head dropped, wings slumped, and my tail looped itself around my leg.

  Closing my eyes, dark thoughts simmered through my mind. Frustration turned into strength. Hopelessness morphed to anger and revenge.

  I would hurt Dati for doing this to me. He had no right to change me. I didn’t ask for this.

  As my head lifted, another growl rumbled through my chest and down the alleyway. My eyes burned hot again.

  I kicked the corpse lying at my feet; its limbs flailed as it was flung away from me.

  Fine then. I’ll have to find another meal. I’m going to need the strength anyways.

  I launched myself out of the bin and, for the first time, realized that I had left Dati’s apartment completely naked. I couldn’t walk around the city searching for my next meal completely nude with a fish hook for a tail swinging about.

  I jumped back into the bin and removed the filthy clothes from the dead body. His pants were way too tight. I fought to get them on and had several minutes of awkwardness trying to get my tail tucked into the back comfortably, and there was no way I could button them up at the waist. But the garment at least covered up the dangly bits.

  The shirt he had worn was ripped to shreds, but the jacket remained relatively intact. I slipped that from the dead body and found it equally as challenging, trying to slip that garment on while managing to contract the wings. It didn’t work.

  After fighting with the coat, I eventually discarded it and flopped my wings over my shoulder. Oddly enough, I decided they kind of looked like a loose trench coat, as long as no one studied me too carefully.

  Leaving the back alleyway and the dead homeless man, I ventured out into the city, intent on finding an appropriate dinner.

  The hunt was on, and the juicy smell of victims saturated the air.

  The city was just one big fast food restaurant, and all I had to do was fly into the drive-through.

  Mother Witch

  DATI

  Two cops shuffled out of Marta’s shop as I neared the store, keys and cuffs clinking against their heavy utility belts. They hurried past me and into their cruiser without giving me a second glance. Although I wasn’t surprised that Marta had resorted to involving law enforcement—it really introduced a complication I didn’t want to deal with.

/>   As I crossed the threshold into the store, the familiar fairy-bell chime sent shivers running down my spine. The gentle tinkling was a blessing to those entering and leaving the premises. One day, I would get rid of that bell.

  “For you, my shop is closed today,” Marta said from behind her beaded curtains. She pushed them aside and stepped into the storefront, crossing her arms in defiance. Her eyes were red and the flesh around them puffy, her cheeks wet with sadness.

  “Marta, I know I’m the last person you want to see…”

  “Person, ha!”

  “Okay, I deserve that.”

  I hesitated for a moment, thinking of all the things that had happened to Alyx since he had arrived at my apartment door. Marta would be thinking a lot less of me with the conversation I was about to have with her.

  “Marta, it’s about Alyx. I need your help finding him.”

  “You think I haven’t already been looking?” Marta waved her hand over top of a map and scrying crystal. “I can’t find him. He is nowhere. They can’t even find him!” She pointed to the cop car that was just driving away. Marta’s face glowed redder and her accent thickened as she became more flustered and irritated. “Wait. How do you know he is missing?” She came at me, jamming a finger into my chest. “What do you know, beast? Out with it.” Her lips were pursed so tight a clamshell would have been easier to open.

  I turned towards the entrance of Marta’s establishment, flipped the lock on the front door, and spun the Open sign to Closed.

  “This is going to take time, Marta, and you won’t like what you hear.”

  “More demon lies. What do you know about Alyx?” she demanded.

  “Marta, please. I made a promise to you, and I’ve kept that promise. I never harmed your boy.” I sighed, long and deep. I was exhausted and exasperated. I had been on the hunt for Alyx, but finding him in the city was a futile search. There were far too many dirty alleyways, shadowy haunts, and sleazy bars where any one of us would have normally hid. Alyx hadn’t been in any of them.