Infernal Father of Mine

by John Corwin

The darts bounced off an azure shield. "Get out of there," Shelton yelled, holding his staff out to maintain her protection.

  With a running leap, Elyssa flipped over the fence. She and Shelton raced down the side of the church as more and more of the cross-shaped holes spewed darts. Shelton huffed and puffed, but maintained his shield. They crossed the road and ran into the alley.

  Ivy and Bella gave them looks of alarm.

  "We're getting out of here," Elyssa said, and went straight through the portal and back into the mansion. Shelton and the others followed her through, and deactivated it.

  "I think they're onto us," Shelton said.

  Elyssa smacked a fist into her palm. "That doesn't mean anything. We'll still get them." It had only been a few hours since Justin's abduction. She hoped and prayed they hadn't done anything to him. Somehow, she would figure out a way to break through the Exorcist defenses and save him.

  Chapter 8

  A nightmare? I didn't know what David was talking about. I opened my mouth to argue with him when I suddenly got a clue. The entire ordeal with the man, the train, and the corpse bride had been surreal and nonsensical. And yet, if I analyzed it as someone's bad dream, it made all the sense in the world. It still didn't explain the falling houses, the shifting terrain, or how the scene had appeared out of nowhere. It didn't explain how the man had survived a direct impact between a train and his car.

  Unless. "The Gloom is dreamland," I said, not quite phrasing it as a question.

  "I don't know if that's completely accurate," David said. He pursed his lips. "When the tire hit you in the back, it obviously injured you. That would suggest a physical representation of a dream."

  "I couldn't move the car," I said. "I couldn't even budge it."

  "Perhaps the representation of the dream was immutable."

  "Maybe people's brainwaves recreate their dreams here," I said.

  David tilted his head, as though listening for something. "A moment ago, we were surrounded by minders. Now they're gone."

  "I noticed that too," I said, embellishing my situational awareness a bit since I hadn't even realized we were surrounded in the first place, thanks to my futile heroics. I snapped my fingers as a light bulb flickered on in my brain. "Minders feed off dreams. The dream attracted them here."

  "Very likely," he said.

  "Maybe that guy lives in one of these houses. Maybe his dream caused the minders to create his dream in the Gloom." It seemed too fantastical to be true. Then again, so did most things when it came to magic.

  "It's possible," David said. "It also brings up a troubling idea."

  I already had dozens of troubling ideas running through my noggin.

  He furrowed his brow. "It was still daytime or early evening when they banished us here. Most people in Atlanta are still awake. I wonder what will happen when everyone goes to sleep."

  "Oh crap," I said. "This place is going to be nightmare central."

  "I don't know if the physical representations of the dreams can kill us and I don't want to find out." David's flippant attitude was gone, replaced with a far more concerned façade.

  "Glad to see you're taking the situation seriously for once." I bit the inside of my lower lip.

  He crossed his arms. "The minders showed up just before the nightmare."

  "They're probably attracted to dreams like flies."

  "If we sense them gathering, we'll need to be careful." David ran a hand through his hair. "It might mean another dream is forming."

  "How are we—" I cursed and jumped back as a man on a skateboard whizzed out of the fog. The skateboard wheel hit a rock and threw him off. He yelped and vanished just before hitting the ground.

  "I hate those kinds of dreams," David said, looking at the spot from which man and skateboard had disappeared.

  My heart still raced. I didn't like surprises like that. "I'm going to drop dead of a heart attack if this keeps up."

  David tilted his head again. "I detect one minder, but not as many as the last nightmare."

  Using my own probes, I confirmed his assessment. "Quick dreams are probably appetizers," I said. "Nightmare brides and trains, on the other hand, seem like the main courses."

  His lips pressed together. "I agree."

  "We need to get to the Grotto, fast." I tried not to think about Mom and Ivy and the danger they might be in. "Have you sensed those men who were coming to get us at the church?"

  He shook his head. "No. Unless they have a way to track us, I doubt they're anywhere nearby."

  Something brushed against my senses, raising the hairs on my neck. Closing my eyes, I let my incubus probes wander the fog around me. More and more alien presences swept past, as if rushing toward a specific goal. I felt my face contort with each close call.

  "Something is about to happen," David said.

  "We should get a move on." I started walking. "I don't want to get sucked into another nightmare."

  "Agreed."

  A cluster of minders floated past us, their trailing tentacles entwining with others. The brain-like shape of their bodies glommed onto one another, almost as if they weren't entirely corporeal. Each passing sent vibrations into my incubus senses even though I had them turned on low. I was afraid to completely turn off my demonic awareness for fear I wouldn't be able to reactivate it.

  "I think I'm gonna be sick," I said as uneasiness morphed into nausea.

  "Close off your senses," David said. "Don't keep them bared like that."

  I'd feel blind without them to guide me, but it was better than barfing. Hopefully, I'd be able to turn them back on later. With great reluctance, I flicked them off. The yuck-factor all but vanished from my guts. We walked forward a few more steps and entered clear air. I jerked to a halt. A shimmering starlit tapestry painted the night horizon. The Atlanta skyline sparkled in the distance. Hope surged in my chest but died within seconds as my eyes found a swarming mass of minders sweeping up and down the streets like ghastly flocks of birds. The creatures glided down the roads toward the center of town. Even as they did, a wave of their comrades rushed past them in the opposite direction.

  "They're coming right at us," I said in alarm. And they were—a wall of cloudy gray forms with wildly waving tentacles beneath. I stop, dropped, and rolled just as the minders swooped past. Numbing cold traced along my skin as their translucent tentacles brushed me.

  Elyssa straddles me, fangs bared, and presses a cold blade against my throat. I feel warm liquid running down my neck. She leans close.

  "You're a monster. You almost fooled me."

  "Elyssa, I love you," I say in a wheezing voice.

  She leans down and whispers in my ear. "I am your dark light. I will be with you at the end."

  I am suddenly in a room with a table. Bookshelves surround me. A man sits in a chair across from me. He is muscular but otherwise looks quite ordinary.

  "Good day, Mr. Slade." A slow smile spreads across his face. "You have passed the test. Your father is released from the death sentence."

  "Underborn." Anger fills my voice. "You threatened to kill my father just to see if I could pass a stupid test?"

  I hear a roar and spin around. Vadaemos Slade manifests into demon form and lunges for me. I dodge a clawed swipe that would have removed my head. Before I can manifest, he grips me by the neck and slams me to unforgiving asphalt. A battle rages around me. Monstrous moggies—Stacey's mutant cat friends—yowl as they trade blows with Vadaemos's hellhounds. Templars fight hellhound claws and teeth with swords.

  It doesn't matter. I am about to die.

  I squeeze my eyes and wait for the end.

  The pressure on my throat vanishes. I feel cold metal along my bare back. When my eyes open, I see a plain concrete ceiling. I try to move, but my arms, legs, and even head are secured.

  "Mine at last," Maximus says. He walks around me, inspecting me like a prized pig. "With your blood, I will turn the world into my own vampire nation. I will be the one in control, not Daeliss
a."

  "Let me go," I say, trying to keep fear from my voice.

  He leans close. Blood-scented breath reaches my nose. He whispers in my ear. "You are my little mouse now, boy. You are mine forever." He lunges for my neck.

  I scream. I struggle. All to no avail. His fangs sink into my skin. Ecstasy and fear flood my entire being. Maximus rears back, blood—my blood—running down his face. He laughs, and I know I will never escape.

  Ivy looks up at me with big blue eyes. "I love you, big brother."

  I stand in a stone-lined hallway at Arcane University. Students flow around the two of us in the busy corridor. "I love you too, sis." I lean down to hug her, but she vanishes along with the world around me.

  A voice speaks in the void. "The final choice must be made." Images of a burnt world, of a new world, and of a world rotting like an apple flash before my eyes.

  I blink my eyes open and look into the blue eyes of my mother as she cradles me in her arms. I try to speak, but only baby noises emerge.

  "Is he truly the one?" Mom asks.

  Another face appears. "He will serve, and he will die." My father places a hand on Mom's shoulder. "Don't get too attached, Alysea."

  My father leaves. A tear trickles down my mother's cheek. "I won't let you die, my son." She sings to me. I recognize the tune but can't remember where I last heard it. My eyes grow heavy. I cannot keep them open a second longer.

  "Ah!" I shouted and looked wildly around. The minders had moved beyond us. I saw my father lying on the ground next to me. His face was absolutely white.

  Before I could ask him what he'd seen, he shook his head. "What a ride."

  "A ride?" Those visions had replayed some of the most emotionally traumatic parts of my life. But what David had said to my mom about me hurt the worst of all. Had it been a dream, or memory?

  He looked back the way we'd come from. "Looks like the fog won't be an issue anymore."

  I followed his gaze and watched as the line of minders erased the gray haze. "What the hell is going on?" I asked, feeling even more perplexed than before.

  "I'd really like to know that myself." David pushed himself off the ground and stood. "On the other hand, without the fog we can find the Grotto a lot faster."

  "Yeah, but those men can find us more easily too." I regarded him once more, unable to decide if I should ask what he'd seen. My own father told Mom I would serve and die. He told her not to get attached! The thought made me sick to my stomach, and I lost all desire to question him. Had it truly been a memory from my infancy, or just a minder-induced nightmare? I looked north and pointed. "It's that way."

  "Let's go," he said, and took off at a jog.

  I tried to run at a supernatural rate and only succeeded in tiring myself. "I hate this place. I hate feeling normal."

  A bead of sweat trickled down David's forehead. "You and me both."

  It felt awful to have no super powers. Considering how dangerous dreams made this place, we'd be hard pressed to avoid every surprise. "We're doomed."

  He smirked. "Since we're already doomed, I might as well mention we don't have food or water."

  That troubling thought hadn't occurred to me. "There aren't any people to feed from either," I said.

  "Yep." His eyes turned back toward the section of town known as Buckhead where the Grotto sat buried deep underground beneath a fancy shopping mall. "To top things off, we have something else to worry about."

  "Great, what else?"

  "The fog will return." He motioned around us. "It seems when the mortal world sleeps and dreams, the fog clears."

  "So we have until morning to reach the Grotto," I said, trying to judge the distance in my head. "It could take us hours to walk there." My heart was already hammering from the jog even though I was in pretty good shape.

  "That would be my guess," David said as we crested a hill. "Somehow, people dreaming or sleeping clears the fog."

  "Don't Arcanes study the Gloom?" I said. "Wouldn't they know about this kind of stuff?" Before he could answer, another thought smacked me upside the head. "Harry Shelton's dad—"

  "Jarrod Sager," David said.

  I decided not to ask him how he knew the deceased Arcanus Primus was Shelton's dad. "Yeah, that guy. He was pushing—"

  "The Gloom Initiative," my father interrupted again without even glancing my way as we trotted down a residential sidewalk.

  I clenched my teeth to hold back a smart remark. "Surely they know all about this stuff if they were really studying the Gloom."

  "Perhaps. The project was shrouded in secrecy. Apparently Daelissa thought she could find a way back to Seraphina through this place—"

  "And bring through her army," I said, interrupting him for the hell of it, though I had nothing constructive to add. I wondered if she could the initiative was still active. Was that why she sent us here?

  "Why are you so reluctant to tell me the truth about you?" I asked, using a tactic Elyssa had applied many a time when she wanted to catch me off guard with random question.

  "I don't think you're ready for it yet," David replied.

  "I put on my big-boy panties a long time ago, David." I glared at him to put extra emphasis on his name. "You're the one who's been acting like a child. After Mom left us, you got stinking drunk every night and left me to figure out why I could suddenly seduce any woman I wanted. Do you know how hard it was for me to resist abusing that ability? Do you know how close I came to dying because I didn't have a clue about the Overworld or Templars, or how most supers regard demon spawn as evil monsters?"

  "I knew all along what you were going through," he said nonchalantly.

  I almost tripped over my own feet. "You what?"

  He shrugged. "I knew exactly when the change hit you, and most of what was going on in your life during your adjustment."

  "Adjustment?" I shouted. "My girlfriend almost cut my throat because she thought I was abusing my sexual superpowers to take advantage of her!"

  "Her love won out in the end though, didn't it?"

  I opened my mouth to shout something back but only angry sputtering noises emerged. David grinned. The world flashed red. I dove into him. His back hit a brick mailbox. We bounced off it and landed on a grassy lawn. I wrestled him beneath me, straddled his chest, and reared back my fist. He looked up at me, one eyebrow raised.

  "I can see you're upset, son—"

  I punched him in the face. "You're damned right I'm upset, you lying bastard!" I lined up my fist for another punch when he pushed me off. I somersaulted backwards and flopped on my stomach. Anger burned behind my eyes. I rolled to my back and sprang to my feet.

  "Let's stop with the hitting for a while," David said. He narrowed his eyes. "I don't want this to get ugly."

  "You're not my father. You're dead to me." An angry grow rose in my throat. "Why did you make me go through hell when you could have told me everything?" I heard knuckles crack as my fists clenched tight.

  "I'm dead to you?" He sighed. "That hurts." His easy smile returned along with a shrug. "I knew you weren't ready for the truth." He nodded down the road. "We should keep going."

  "Not until you tell me why," I growled.

  "Because I wanted to see what kind of man you were," he said.

  "It was a test?" I heard my knuckles crack. "You son of a—"

  He sighed. "I knew you weren't ready." With that, he resumed jogging in the direction of the Grotto.

  I let out a frustrated shout and, seeing no choice, followed him, anger boiling as I thought about how cruel his little test had been.

  As we passed through a residential neighborhood, I heard laughter echoing from nearby and detoured down a side street. A guy about my age stood in the midst of several pretty girls. He said something I couldn't quite hear, and the girls burst into laughter. One of the girls kissed him. The others broke into arguments about kissing him next. One took off her shirt and—the scene vanished.

  "Another dream," I said.

  A scr
eaming girl raced around the corner of the house at the end of the street, arms waving frantically. Before I could wonder what she was running from, I heard a strange honking noise. My heart froze in terror as a clown appeared, ghoulish leer on his face as he raced after the girl, shoes honking with every step.

  "Now that," David said, "is scary."

  "I hate clowns," I said with a shudder.

  The clown erupted with evil laughter and dove at the girl. She screamed one final time before they vanished. David looked at the skyline to get his bearings, and we resumed course. Dreams and nightmares sprang up all around us. One man stood screaming in his front yard as his house grew a mouth and ate him.

  "Guess he can't afford the mortgage," David said.

  I watched in horror as a young boy set a dog on fire, clapping and laughing with glee. I made a note of the address. Serial killer in the making.

  As the number of dreams grew in density, more and more minders appeared, drifting down the streets, tentacles touching the people who I figured must be doing the actual dreaming. Far overhead, I made out people flying like superheroes. It seemed to be a popular dream. Further down the road, I watched as a young girl saved her family from a burning house, only to witness her parents and little sister crumble to ashes before her eyes while she cried in anguish. Before we'd gone far, the scene reset itself and the girl repeated the rescue.

  "Talk about trapped in your own worst nightmare," I said with a shudder.

  "We need food and water," David said some time later. He wiped sweat from his forehead. "I don't know about you, but I'm thirsty."

  We'd made good progress, but I needed a break. "Me too."

  David headed toward a nearby house. He tried the doorknob, but it was locked.

  "We can't break in," I said. "Remember the car on the railroad tracks? I couldn't move it."

  He lined his elbow up with the window and smashed it in one blow.

  I felt my eyebrows rise. "How'd you do that?"

  David shrugged. He reached through the window and unbolted the door. We went inside the seemingly empty house and into the kitchen. He stopped. "You hear that sound?"

  "That low humming?"