There was something so disturbingly sexual about the possession that her skin crawled.
The ravager enjoyed it. He got off on it as the human was brutalized.
It was sick.
The minute it was within the cavity of his body, the skin began to writhe and boil, closing over the horrible gash. The hands hooked, and the human-looking phallus extended much like the barb had been as he thrashed his head from side to side, his eyelids flickering. His body morphed back and forth between corporeal ravager and human until it finally eased.
The eyes of the exorcist popped open, revealing burning red eyes. He bellowed and jerked out of Marcus’s grip, turning to hiss threateningly at the Kessler heir. Marcus held his hands up and stepped back. Jason laughed behind her, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Go. Eat and rest. I must see to my mate. Soon enough it will be your turn.”
With that, he stepped away, leaving her standing alone in the grass as the people moved away to head toward the tables of food set out. Once again, an everyday, ordinary chatter erupted among the crowd. But Meredith couldn’t take her eyes off the bloody strips of white cloth that remained where the exorcist had stood in his final moments before his possession.
Chapter 4
Charu walked on the earth. He didn’t recall a time when he’d stepped upon solid stone and dirt. If it had happened before, it was beyond his recent memory, lost in the fog of time. He supposed if he made an effort he could probably drift further into the tomes of his memories, but even the gods didn’t care to remember all things. What did it matter?
His hard, unforgiving eyes scanned the landscape. Buildings rose like bones of long-extinct beasts, just as lifeless. His lip curled. Humanity. Even after a millennium, very little changed. Their rotting civilizations were rarely anything more than monuments to their ego and greed despite their fragile, brief lives. What did their civilization and their people matter when they were a constant presence moving through his gates?
He didn’t understand their existence. They were given the spark of the gods and fashioned by their hands in their likeness, but they were selfish, slow-evolving creatures. It took them countless lifetimes to ascend before they offered anything to the cosmos. Their lives and deaths were as meaningless as any other creature on Earth that pleased the gods, and yet these favored children were destructive on a scale unlike any other species.
He couldn’t help but feel contempt for their species as their numbers passed through his gates, their souls carrying the lingering miasma from the life they’d shed. For this reason, the wulkwos always lingered close to the gates. As devourers of flesh, they were attracted to human souls, consuming the traces of life that clung to them. They lusted for contact with humanity and followed them like jackals trailing after herds.
Despite being a nuisance, Charu bore them no ill-will, not until they dared to breach his domain. The law was clear: nothing within the gates was to be released except by those who stepped into the divine river of souls from which they’d be reborn into life on Earth. The wulkwos were not permitted on the mortal plane. They had no place in this world, and their offense to him was great.
He would gather them to him. Every. Single. One. His large hand patted the lamp hanging from his belt. Designed to trap unruly spirits, the lamp would draw them in. Those that encased themselves in shrouds of flesh would pose a problem, but one that proved quick to resolve.
The hammer on his shoulder still dripped with blood from the last city, even as his lamp pulsed angrily on his hip. The cities were the root of the pestilence and had to be cleared of life to completely remove the presence of the wulkwos. He’d crushed every being who came between him and his target. Men, women, and children were laid low beneath his feet and he struck down one obstacle after another, ripping the creatures from their hosts. Though Charu culled humanity in his quest, he felt neither gratification nor sorrow from it. He knew that even with the loss of flesh, the souls continued on eventually to be reborn again.
His long strides carried him from city to city, following the pull of the lantern. His feet pounded a relentless, untiring rhythm. He did not require food or sleep. All he knew was the all-consuming drive to retrieve his prey. City upon city fell to the stroke of his hammer. The wulkwos did not come easily, and the cries of pain preceded his arrival at every place.
So was his lot. He kept to the roads that he might not pass by even one place. It was only when the distance seemed great that he allowed his dark wings to manifest to carry him, like a vulture might soar over a lion’s hunting grounds, over water and mountains alike.
Even without the lamp, he might have known the trail by the stench alone. The cities, stinking of rot and refuse, carried the distinct bite of death and gore. The cities, even with humans still living within them, no longer harbored life, but gradual decay. Even the humans knew it, their eyes watching him with the emptiness of suffering. Only the suffering touched his cold heart. He made their endings quick.
As always, the lamp tugged on the chain hanging from his belt, pulling at the very fabric of his being, the ghostly blue cast of his lamp turning red. Though it recognized the presence of the wulkwos whenever he neared, the lantern sought out the foremost among them. It pulled Charu relentlessly to the lauchume, their king. Their power and will was tied to their king, and once the lauchume was caught within the lamp, it would cause a ripple effect in the world, bringing Charu’s task to an end.
Charu’s lips quirked with the ghost of a smile. The lauchume was powerful after thousands of years of existence and would be a challenging opponent. It would be a glorious battle and Charu felt an eagerness he had not known in eons. He followed the hidden trail illuminated by his lantern, his excitement increasing as he drew closer.
A city loomed in the distance, stark in its heavy shadows. In the red glow of the lamp the shadows twisted in an unnatural aura, proving the taint of the city. The miasma was worse than in any other city; he was certain that there the lauchume had sunk his talons and burrowed deep. The lamp brightened with a scarlet glow, affirming what he suspected. His lips pulled back, Charu roared his challenge, his voice sounding as a lion or some ancient dragon of legend over the expanse.
The serpents writhed over his form, responding to his ferocity. They raised their heads, mouths gaping as they hissed. Their venomous fangs gleamed in the lamplight. A breeze caught the strands of his dark hair void of all color. Color was a thing of light, and he was but a spirit of shadows, his only hue the pale blue of death that painted his limbs. There had been a time when the people had smeared his images, especially his horns, with ash, certain that he lurked among the urns of the dead.
Drawing in a deep breath, nostrils flaring, he searched for his prey. The scent of the wulkwos carried even to where he stood. They smelled vaguely of myrrh once burned for the dead, blood, and the spiced funerary anointing oils.
Without breaking his pace, he walked.
He did not hurry.
They all came to him. Eventually. So too would the lauchume come in the end.
The light in the lamp spun quicker the closer he got. The static in the air reacted, and lightning crashed against the ground, illuminating his silhouette as he got closer and closer. Serpents pushed out from his skin, fanning around him with menace when he passed one sign, and then another. The signs seemed out of place, speaking of different times. He barely cast a glance at them as he entered Ashton.
The sky was beginning to glow red at the horizon when he made his way among the buildings, reflecting off his massive hammer. Several humans stopped in the road just ahead of him, their bodies stilling as they instinctively registered the threat. One stepped forward from among their number and Charu’s lips curved in a humorless grin, exposing sharp fangs.
The human paused, his hands fumbling loosely at his side. Charu didn’t slow but cocked his head with interest. The human was not running. The man straightened his spine and puffed out his chest.
“You there, yo
u are not permitted here. Turn around and go back to where you come from. Our city is no haven for strangers. There is nothing for you.”
Charu’s low laughter echoed unnaturally where no echo should have existed, the red fire of his eyes brightening.
The human raised a weapon, a rifle, and pointed the muzzle at him.
“This is your final warning. I will shoot if you don’t turn around and leave.”
The men behind him shifted nervously. One of them inched closer.
“Neil, something isn’t right about this one.”
Neil turned his head and spat. “Shut up, Ted. He’s just trying to scare us. Look at all those props. He ain’t any different than the exorcist coming here with all his flim-flam.”
The third stepped backward, a visible shudder running through his body.
“Guys, I don’t think this dude is playing. Take a look at those snakes. That is some high-level shit if it’s not real! I don’t know about you, but I’m getting out of here.”
“Jerry, don’t you dare go anywhere. This job has been assigned to us. Do you want the same to happen to you as happened to that pitiful bastard?”
Charu didn’t care of what they spoke or even what decision they made. It mattered not if they attempted to harm him. Their weapons would do them no good against him. His temporary flesh could feel pain, but they could not kill him. It was impossible to kill that which was eternal.
His terrible smile broadened, and Jerry turned and ran. Neil’s rifle lowered only slightly as he turned his head to shout at his brethren.
“Jerry, you bastard!” His hard eyes turned to his friend, and Charu felt a tinge of amusement. “Don’t you go running too, Ted.”
The other man’s voice quavered, and though he was afraid, he lifted his rifle as well.
Charu’s claws clenched around his hammer and he lowered it from his shoulder. As it dropped, it audibly cut through the air like the vibrations of a bullroarer swung forcibly through the air.
The humans fired, and the bullets bit into his flesh. They bled freely for the span of a breath, and then the wound faded as if it had never been. In response, the men shot round after round at him, but he never slowed his pursuit. He didn’t even flinch, though he felt the impact of each one.
“Shit! Neil, this guy isn’t going down! Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”
“Keep firing. Must be body armor. Just keep firing!”
Charu’s mirthless smile widened, his serpents arranging around him like a cobra’s hood as several dropped through his body to the ground. They sped across the pavement, and the humans, upon seeing them, directed wide, terrified eyes toward them. They shot the serpents, shouting triumphantly as each serpent seemed to explode when the bullets made contact.
What they did not see, what they did not know, was that the serpents where naught but bits of his spirit sent out. Shadows. The shadow dropped its form, coiled back on itself and returned to Charu’s flesh, its corporeal form shattered by the impact of the bullets.
Charu chuckled, a deep, threatening sound.
Did they think they had accomplished anything?
Swinging his hammer through the air it cracked like lightning. The humans backpedaled, dropping their weapons, barely evading Charu’s strike.
“Shit! Neil? SHIT!”
Neil couldn’t answer. He would never answer. On the second swing, Charu’s hammer struck true. Neil’s chest caved in under the impact of the hammer, his heart stopping instantaneously. The light of life left his eyes in less than a second. He didn’t even draw one last belabored breath.
The hammer made a wet, sucking sound as Charu pulled it free from the human’s body. The effort did not strain his arm; it did not pause his forward momentum.
The remaining human lifted his hands pleadingly as he scurried backward.
Did he not know he could not bargain with the spirits of the underworld?
“Please, man. Please don’t hurt me. My family...”
“Will sing to your shade and join you in the next world,” Charu intoned, his deep voice rippling over the walls of the buildings around them.
Tears sprung in the human’s eyes and he shook his head in denial.
“Please, no. Anything but that.”
Charu’s red eyes blinked pitilessly at him.
“Do not fear, mortal. Death comes for all.”
“I don’t want to die!” he cried, his head dropping in defeat.
“It is not the end,” Charu replied, an uncharacteristic reassurance.
With that, he brought his hammer down.
Chapter 5
Meredith sat in the opulent room, her eyes flicking over it with distaste. The Kesslers were obviously keeping comfortable. The room was immaculate, the wood polished and candles lit up the room in a wasteful number.
People were, of course, eager to serve them. They cleaned the house and prepared meals. No one noticed that the younger Kessler brothers did not eat but sparingly, or at least pretended not to. She had no doubt that the elder Kessler knew exactly what had happened to his sons. Whether or not he welcomed it was uncertain, but he seemed more cautious around them. Especially when they smiled in their eerie, predatory way.
Like they had a malicious secret that no one was privy to.
Meredith didn’t doubt that.
Jason circled around her, expectantly, his eyes glowing with a strange light. Over the last several days, she’d been in forced residence with the family. A member of their family to the outside world now that the remaining human population had been paired.
She should be grateful that her possession wasn’t immediate. She’d been surprised, but then it became clearer as the days passed. Never before had a female ravager hosted inside of a human body. The females had a difficult time controlling their instinct to glut on blood and bone and so fell into a sort of sleep during the day, or hid in dark underground rooms until they were able to go above and hunt once more.
Meredith had to be fattened and made healthy to survive the possession. To accomplish this, they moved her in and cared for her. She knew it was also to protect their interest. It was harder to plot her escape when confined to her room. She was brought out to be fed and exercised as if she were a valuable pet, and every night she was escorted to her room where she was safely locked in.
She never saw the female and counted herself fortunate for that. Although she knew her fate, it would have been a special form of hell to have to look into the face of her destiny. When not possessing humans, ravagers were like creatures of her nightmares come to life. Not that she was doing much sleeping since the day she’d been forced into her new quarters.
At night she’d huddled on her bed, jumping at the sounds of the ravagers snarling and growling on the grounds. The house itself echoed with their sounds. Sometimes she heard the heavy thumps of feet and growls outside of her door. She was grateful for the locks then, uncertain if it was Jason prowling territorially, or Anthony lusting for a taste of her flesh. She jumped at every sound, unable to sleep, wishing desperately for the safety of her apartment. Even with all the luxury around her, anywhere was preferable to here.
Not that she’d receive help from any quarter... or sympathy. No one dared to break the law or do anything that would go against the Kesslers. Worse, to her surprise, many thought her ungrateful and undeserving of it. She’d caught many women giving her envious glances, and gossips wondered why she, of all women, was to be paired with one of the brothers of such a powerful family. She might as well be wearing her funeral shroud, and not one person noticed.
She wanted to scream that she’d gladly trade places with any of them if given the opportunity. Her existence was nearing its end, and they spoke of it as if she were fortunate.
Fortunate? Meredith repressed a mocking laugh.
That thing that Jason called his mate was going to crawl inside of her and consume her soul. Everything that she was as a being was going to be sucked into the ravager. And no one was going to even know. All
those women would still be glancing at her enviously when she was no longer aware in more than a passing way inside her own body, her spirit forever attached to the dominant ravager.
She felt ill.
The thing wearing Jason’s flesh scowled at her, the light from the numerous candles glinting off his inhuman eyes. Even in his human host, he could not disguise his eyes. Now they were glaring down on her maliciously, his posture rigid with impatience. Tonight was the night, and he hadn’t given her a moment alone since she’d woken.
Her lips twisted with loathing. No doubt he wanted to make sure she didn’t make any desperate attempt to end her life now that the hour was nigh. If it had been possible, she probably would have. They kept anything breakable and sharp far from her, but she would have found a way, if only...
“You do not appear well, human.”
He leaned forward and sniffed and jerked away, his eyes narrowing.
“You are ill,” he growled with accusation.
She glowered back at him, emboldened by the fact that the creature wouldn’t harm her, not when she was about to be the host for his mate.
“I wish I were sick. I wish I had some terrible disease right now. Anything to prevent your mate from infesting me.”
He gripped a handful of her hair, pulling her head back sharply enough that her eyes stung. His face morphed, his teeth lengthening. He placed his teeth in warning against her throat, a low rumble coming from him, as he spoke low into her ear.
“Learn some gratitude, human. You are being offered a great gift.”
“Not from where I’m sitting,” she retorted with a shudder. “If it is such a great honor, kindly bestow it upon someone else.”
“And then what?” he crooned. “Do we throw you in with her so that she may feast on your flesh and you perish in your last moments in terrible agony? You would prefer that?”
Havoc of Souls Page 4