Daimonion (The Apocalypse Book 1)

by J. P. Jackson

  Silenus’s face was purple, he was so enraged.

  Very carefully, I grabbed the vial that hung from the necklace Silenus always wore. With a quick jerk, the chain snapped, freeing the vial. I gingerly placed it in my coat pocket.

  “That is mine,” I said through gritted teeth, but in my hand, I finally held the one thing that guaranteed my freedom. I felt safe, secure in knowing that I was once again in possession of the one element that would make me whole again. “I am no longer bound to you. I will never do another task for you. I am not yours to command.”

  Grabbing a tuft of hair at the top of Silenus’s head, I held my ex-master’s head back, exposing the goat god’s throat.

  Silenus struggled in vain.

  Using a razor-sharp claw, I stuck one pointed tip into the soft flesh just below the jaw and sawed. Blood spurted out, soaking the front of the goat and coating me.

  As the blood gushed from his throat, I finally felt relief, a calmness I had never experienced.

  I was free.

  As soon as I returned to my position on the dais, Aradia’s spell took hold and once again and I became immobile.

  Blood from the sacrificed goat god pooled on the stone platform and found its way through the carvings that had been etched into the surface by Aradia. The channels ran in towards the middle of the circle, where Jenae floated.

  Silenus’s swirling violet irises dimmed as his life spewed onto the rock beneath him. He convulsed within the tree roots that wound tightly around him. A thick pool of the Satyr’s blood collected in the center of the dais, underneath the airborne witch.

  Hemming, Caleb, and Alyx stood motionless like grotesque garden statues, still trapped within Aradia’s spell.

  Jenae stopped chanting.

  She was glowing from deep within herself. As if someone had turned a light on inside of her chest. Her heart beat slow and steady, and with each beat, the light became a little brighter, until it was brilliant and blinding.

  The spirit light revealed the four souls Jenae had been carrying with her, each one positioned perfectly in a circle around her. Their faces were demented, tortured, and inhuman. A scream arose as each of them shrieked like banshees. Their scream slowly subsiding as they dissolved into wisps of light and were absorbed into Jenae.

  I didn’t think it possible, but the light coming from within Jenae got brighter—so bright I couldn’t look in her direction.

  But just as I turned away, Jenae’s heart stopped beating and the light from within her dimmed.

  Everything was deathly quiet and dark.

  Light erupted in a nuclear wave, and Jenae was at the nucleus. As rigid as we were, the energy that should have sent us reeling coursed through us like an electrical current, sucking the air out of my lungs.

  And then everything went black. There was no sound.

  It was pitch black. Empty.

  And then the heart beat again, thump - thump. The glow returned but dimly.

  Glancing back towards the epicenter, Jenae was stretched out, spread eagle, but she had become translucent. I could see right through her, and yet I could see everything in her, bones, and veins and organs.

  From within the hollow of her pelvis, something stirred, a shadow, tinted red, which slithered within Jenae.

  Red shadow hands grasped onto Jenae’s hip bones. A head and shoulders pulled their way up. Clawing and climbing, the inner shadow slipped and wound its way up through the chest cavity, compressing itself as it shimmied through the narrow throat.

  A second body existed within Jenae, twisting and turning, scrunching its way through the translucent soulless witch. It was like watching a panicked rat scrambling through crevices too tight for it to get through.

  Jenae’s head snapped backwards and her mouth opened. The red hands poked through her open mouth.

  It didn’t seem possible and it defied reason, but the hands pushed and pulled until half a body was protruding from Jenae’s open mouth.

  And then the red shadow flopped onto the stone dais right a Jenae’s feet, falling right into the pool of Silenus’s blood. It lay still for a moment.

  Jenae slumped forward but remained suspended in the air.

  The pool of the goat god’s blood slowly began to disappear as the shadow filled with the slain demigod’s essence.

  A snaking writhing noise came from behind me, and I turned to see the roots and vines that held Silenus disappear back into the ground.

  Aradia mouthed more words and flicked a finger.

  I gaped in fascination as Silenus’s body rose off the dais, sailing past me towards the ethereal being that was full of his blood. I’d never seen such demonstrations of magic, and it was terrifying.

  Silenus’s body and the soul that Jenae had summoned hovered close to each other, then began to spin, one around the other, like a moon orbiting the earth. As they spun, flesh was torn off of Silenus in minute strips and flecks, almost too small to see. But within seconds, all the skin and muscle were gone from Silenus.

  Flesh and tissue swirled violently in circles as Silenus’s body was torn apart and shredded.

  The shadow spirit reached out towards the floating mass of tissue that had been Silenus, and touched the tiniest little piece. The entire floating mass responded.

  In a swirling whirlwind of bodily fluids, the corporeal being began to form, made from the remnants of Silenus. Little pieces of bone fragments flew into place, creating a new skeleton. Internal organs filled in the cavities, followed by muscle and sinew and tendons and skin.

  The goat god was gone, his blood, bone, and tissue used to create a new life.

  And she was voluptuous, with dark swirling locks cascading over olive skin. Her hips were wide and full, her breasts perky, skin supple and delicate. She smiled, and her teeth gleamed white and perfect.

  She was an enthralling beauty.

  The woman took a step down from where she had been floating and spinning, placing her bare feet on solid earth.

  Jenae, no longer transparent or glowing or of use, fell to the ground.

  Aradia removed the cape part of her robe, unwinding it so that it appeared like one long piece of flowing white material. She flung it towards the naked woman.

  The material undulated in the dark night and wound its way towards the newly formed body. The stranger stretched out her arm to accept the dancing sheet. As soon as she touched it, the silky material wrapped itself around her curvy frame until she was covered.

  A robe formed out of the fabric donated by Aradia. But where Aradia had stitching that imitated swirling vines and falling leaves, the stranger’s robe was decorated in dancing white flames.

  The beautiful woman glanced down at the empty pool of blood, the place where her existence had started. Bending down, she dipped her finger into a small remaining puddle.

  She stuck her finger in her mouth and savoured the metallic taste. A scowl crossed her face.

  “Really, Aradia, you gave me the blood from a goat?” She sounded disappointed, if not a little disturbed.

  “No, sister, not just a goat: a Satyr. The Satyr, Silenus, the Pan god,” Aradia said proudly.

  “Oh, well then, that is different! Thank you for extricating me.” She walked towards Aradia, embraced her, and gave her a long kiss of thanks, on the lips.

  “That exile was particularly unpleasant and long. Where’s Magdalena?” she asked.

  “Siofra, my dear sister, that is where I need you and your talents the most. She’s still being held prisoner. We should leave now. We need to continue our work.”

  Aradia turned to us. “You’ve done well, beasts. But I have no use for winged demons or skin changers like you. But brilliant young witches who are Soul Doors, now that’s particularly delightful, and a talent I can use many times over.”

  Aradia reached into a small bag she had tied at her waist and pulled out a handful of sparkling sand. Some spilled out as she opened her fist and blew.

  The granules of grit blustered into the
night air towards us and then swept over, covering us in glitter.

  The amulets that Aradia had given us came to life. The arms and legs of the little wicker man grew and spun so fast that before I could raise an arm in my own defence, I was encased in twigs and roots.

  I peered through the cage of branches and switches to catch Aradia leaning in close and whispering secret words to her sister.

  “You’ve arranged for a ride?” Siofra said. Her voice was soft and soothing. She stood next to her sister, took a deep breath, and then stretched out her palms.

  A flapping noise could be heard from above. I peered out through my cage to see giant leathery bat wings gracefully carrying a large dark horse. It landed gracefully, almost silently beside the two sisters.

  “Well done, Aradia. Where on earth did you find such a beautiful creature?” Siofra asked.

  “That, sister, is a very long story.”

  “Well then, one you should tell me all about!”

  “In time. In time.” Aradia nodded at her sister, indicating that there would be plenty to say.

  The winged horse stepped closer to us. I could see the flesh, half-rotted and exposing the beast’s skeleton in some places, others displayed shiny wet muscle tissue.

  “Riken, what are you doing? Help us!” Caleb said. I could hear the desperation in his voice.

  The horse pawed the ground. It moved closer to the bear-man and huffed out a long breath of air from its nostrils.

  Grey smoke billowed out, tumbling in swirling little currents as it fell towards the stone dais. As it hit the rock formation where the ritual had taken place, it spread out, never dissipating, it wound its way towards Caleb, but as it progressed, anything living it touched curled and shriveled.

  The poisonous gas found Caleb, ensnared. The bear-man panicked and tried to push his cage, roll it out of the way of the oncoming vapour. When that didn’t work, he resorted to pounding the inside of the wooden restraints—to no avail.

  The breath encircled Caleb, winding its way up, and as it did, the huge beast-man’s skin began to shrink in on itself. His bulk decreased, his body became frail.

  Caleb slumped to the bottom of his enclosure. He was thin and gaunt.

  The horse, satisfied, backed up carefully towards Aradia and Siofra. They climbed onto the rotted stallion.

  “Behold, the Horseman of Famine has found his ability and purpose!” Aradia said and then cackled.

  Siofra held out her hands, and flames shot out from the center of her palm. Her eyeballs became flaming orbs.

  The crackling from the fire was deafening.

  Fire snakes twisted and turned, creating funnels of inferno in random spots around us. Writhing ropes of hot flames scampered forth, encircling Jenae, forming a fire tornado around her, carrying her gently towards Aradia and Siofra.

  Riken, the horse, beat his giant wings, taking off, while the blazing tornado followed behind. Siofra controlling Jenae’s swirling storm of flames in one hand, released a huge fireball from the other. As the horse drew them up high into the night, carrying Jenae engulfed in a personal pyre, a giant billowing mushroom cloud of smoke and fire erupted on the ground in front of us.

  The heat and intensity of light was so great that the casing of wood that held me in my spot shattered. The blast rang in my ears as the explosion flung us backwards.

  The monster hedge that surrounded the yard caught me and broke my fall.

  Smoke clouded my vision and stung my eyes, tears streaming down my face as I called out for Alyx.

  “Where are you, Alyx? Hemming? Caleb?”

  I could hear someone coughing.

  Beating off a small ember that had caught my shirtsleeve on fire, I stumbled towards the sound. My sensitive demon ears were ringing.

  It was Alyx.

  He was caught up in the hedge several feet away. I pulled him out of the shrubbery. He was covered in soot and one side of his face was blackened. But he wasn’t burnt or too badly damaged.

  From across the field, I could see Hemming attempting to stand up, his face covered in blood from a gash on his forehead.

  In the middle of the field lay a half-morphed, emaciated demon-bear.

  Alyx and I went to collect Caleb.

  He was a shell of the great beast of a man he had been. Alyx and I cradled him gently and carried him away from the field.

  “Jenae!” he croaked out. “Riken, why?”

  I held him a little closer until Hemming caught up with us. Hemming’s gaze said what I would not in front of Caleb. We too were stunned from the turn of events, but more importantly, we were concerned for Caleb’s well-being.

  “What is the Horseman of Famine?” Alyx asked.

  “One of the four horses of the apocalypse. Death, War, Famine, and Pestilence,” Hemming said.

  “What the Hell did we just do?” Alyx turned and said, wide-eyed at the destruction around us. Smoke rose from our clothes.

  “Nothing good,” I replied. “Nothing good at all.”

  The Return

  THE KASADYA

  Dati’s condo will do—has done just fine, thank you.

  Riken and I were sent—are off to find a suitable living quarter before Siofra was emancipated. I returned briefly to the mountain and informed Aradia of our chosen spot, then came back to make arrangements for their arrival.

  “How ironically wonderful,” she responded.

  The saturation of rot and evil has already deeply permeated into the walls, and the hordes of the Disembodied that have taken up residence are numerable. It was—is a perfect spot for my new Mistress.

  Aradia and Siofra have afternoon tea in the living room by the window, to discuss their next moves. The original furniture, we disposed of and replaced with more suitable refinements. After all, Aradia and Siofra are goddesses in their own right. They should have—will have only the best.

  The look is quite stunning: elegance and decomposition go together rather well. It was—is far more functional if not even more comfortable.

  The paint on the walls continues to peel and has become separated from its various coats over the years, making the walls appear as if they have—had the pox. Stains of mold and rot add to the dark and sullied ambience. It’s settling and easing to the soul.

  “Watcher, come here. We have need of your clairvoyance,” Aradia beckons.

  Siofra, being of like mind to the element of fire, always has numerous candles lit and a fire burned—is roaring in the fireplace. Snow will fall soon, and so the additional heat is welcome.

  Riken has become thinner since we parted from his brother. He also had—is refusing outright any food that is placed before him. He was always distant and contemplative, which is just fine, as it means no arguments. He sits in one of the Claremore chairs, slouched over, brooding, ignoring the others in the room.

  “We must free Magdalena,” says Siofra. “Tell us, Kasadya, what do you see?”

  As much as I will assist my Mistress with anything she asks, I don’t like using my abilities. They trouble me, and it is dizzying to watch so many possibilities. The only way for me to keep—have kept some semblance of sanity is to ensure that there is as much chaos surrounding me as possible.

  With chaos comes opportunities and possibilities, in fact, too many options. So when there’s a certain level of disorder and confusion, the visions I see are blurred to the point where nothing is decipherable, and it shuts down, and I have quiet.

  That level of anarchy hasn’t erupted just quite yet.

  I bow my head at Aradia’s request.

  Peering out the windows past Aradia and Siofra, my gaze focuses on the air in between. It begins to shimmer and dance, as if the colours that were—are in front of me are suddenly disorganized and jagged. Like someone has shattered—is shattering a mirror image of the room and put the glass pieces together all wrong.

  And then the shards fall away, and the scenarios begin…

  “I see you and Siofra and the woman of air, Magdelena,
sitting in this room all in white robes as they flow outwards and the sky is dark with demons. You cast humans off the building, and as they fall, the Disembodied possess them. You have unleashed the first wave of the end of times. The Earth has not yet rendered, and the darkest one has not yet come.

  “Aradia and Jenae both dressed in red gowns are veiled and bound, but tears of blood stain your faces. There are mountains of dead beneath your feet. They are your soldiers. You have been conquered and the pyre that you are being pulled towards is awaiting your flesh.

  “There are five women of incomprehensible power; earth, air, fire, and water merging with the fifth element that is soul. The Earth opens and releases beasts, demons, and dragons. Mankind trembles; blood is spilled and ancient rituals open the gates. The angels fall. He comes to Earth on the back of the leviathan.

  “I see pain and sickness. I see famine and death. War and strife cause havoc amongst all of mankind as the four horsemen and their mounts perch on a hilltop made of corpses. The land is desecrated and bare.

  “I see a winged demon and an angel. I see my sister Kasadya Cerys, all in white. She aids them in their quest to beat the beast and—” I stop.

  “And what, boy? Why have you stopped? So far, we are ahead, more possibility exists that the world we want is the one we shall have. What is this last possibility?” Aradia demands.

  “I cannot say. The vision has blurred. It is not clear,” I lie.

  What I see is only what might happen. Nothing is certain. Every action can change all outcomes.

  There is a cry from down the hall. Jenae is stirring again.

  “Ugh, that girl,” Aradia says.

  “Watcher, attend to her. Keep her silent. We have work to complete here,” Siofra says.

  As I entered—was entering the spare room, Jenae spins slowly in circles from the chain that hangs from the ceiling. Her manacles bind and cut the flesh around her wrists. Her eyes are permanently white now, as she possesses no willpower of her own anymore. She is a tool for Aradia and Siofra to use, and they have. The Shishi stood—were still standing immobile on each side of Jenae, and have proved to be difficult to deal with as they are both loyal to the girl.