Update
Today, I finished the second short, Shadows and Blood. Once I got started on it, it just kept going, and then the story was over. Once again, I like the end result of this even more than the original story. I'm especially enjoying giving Morgana Lugus a bit more character than I had in the past. I'll be uploading the whole short, shortly, and then I'll get started on the next short, either tomorrow or Wednesday. I might once again take a day off between shorts, but I'm not sure at present.
Current Word Count: 17,638
Scene of the Day
“Maybe, maybe not. Won’t really know, now, will we? So
does this mean no deal?”
“Your mockery will only assure I prolong your death,
witch. Best you quiet yourself and don’t add to your torment.”
“I’d love to, really, I would, but I’ve always had a
problem controllin’ my mouth,” I retorted with a shrug.
“That’s unfortunate for you. It will ensure your end,” he
swore with a snarl.
“Possibly. Why’s this girl’s soul so important to ya’,
anyway? I’m sure you’ve got plenty others,” I reasoned, even as I trained my
gun on his slowly advanding form.
“Does it really matter?”
“If I’m gonna’ die, I want to know why. I don’t exactly
have much of a life expectancy, in my line a work, but I’ve always had the
condition since I threw in with ya’ lot that I’d go out knowin’ why I passed.
Not like lettin’ a dead woman with borrowed time know will do ya’ any harm
right?”
His head canted to the side, and I suddenly felt like an
insect pinned under a microscope.
“You’re an interesting little mortal,” he admitted with a
creepy smirk.
His eyes slid down from my face, and rested on the
glowing gun trained on him.
“You do realize
that gun will do less than no good, right?”
I shrugged, making sure my aim never left him as he kept
walking closer.
Apparently, my bravado was amusing enough to disarm him,
a little.
“Very well. As you say, it’s not like you’ll be telling
anyone, when I have your soul chained tight to my wall. That girl’s a demigod,
a nephilim, to be specific, and that kind of special soul causes big prices for me.”
My brow rose in surprise at the unexpected news.
“A nephilim?
What? Is Angel an actual angel?”
While she hadn’t come across as someone particularly
holy, that didn’t really mean much.
Most angels that wore human flesh those days did so more
out of necessity than choice.
In general, they were a bitter bunch, and acted out the
most negative parts of humanity worse than most humans could ever dream of.
Her aura, though, had a distinct lack of any kind of
magic to it, which even the most fallen of them couldn’t achieve.
Though it made Therion’s interest suddenly make a whole
lot of sense.
When angels, gods, or any other beings of the Higher
Realms had a child with a human, that child was usually unbelievably powerful
with magic and essence both.
If Catherine was the child of an angel of any real power,
Therion wouldn’t be any more likely to give up that power to any other demon,
any more than he would me.
Who better, after all, to use as a slave for holding
power for a demon to pull on than a being born with blood that literally sang
with high levels of magic?
“Of course not,” he scoffed, breaking into my thoughts.
“No, her husband. I didn’t count on that fortunate
turn. Though I suppose angel would be
a bit of a stretch. More like an improved human. Strong Enochian magic, that
one. The point still stands that little Catherine’s more than human, and has a lot of potential. Now, if that will be
all, have you made your peace with your end?”
“I’m always ready. I won’ go quietly, though.”
In a second, the trigger suppressed, and a bang echoed painfully back and forth
against the warehouse walls.
A massive, jagged black hole opened in his right
shoulder, and it took him a second to realize his arm was now lying at his
feet, in a puddle of sickly honey-colored liquid.
The same rotten, rancid-smelling ichor, corrupted with
the Fall, dripped from the destroyed stump.
Around the edges of his burn, dark black smoke rose.
The more it billowed up, the louder his snarl grew.
Therion’s eyes were hellish slits of fire in his skull,
and his lips were pulled back to reveal sharp, ivory fangs.
“That hurt,” he hissed.
The air grew utterly still as he took a step towards me.
As he came, a large wave of obsidian flames wrapped
around his remaining fist.
“Silver bullets etched with salt. Consider yerself lucky
my aim was off.”
“This was no error, you little whelp!”
Evidently, he knew he wasn’t good to me dead.
Hopefully, the loss of his arm would take a lot of his
energy with it.
I’d been hoping he would use even more to repair the
damage, but he’d decided to go with Hellfire, instead.
That was as impressive as it was terrifying.
While all demons could use the black fire, it took a
massive concentration of magic to wield.
Lesser demons were known to spontaneously disintegrate,
trying it.
With how much of his power he should’ve already used,
Therion being able to still use Hellfire made him way scarier than the rumors
had depicted.
“I’ll blow yer head off if ya’ don’t stop, right there,
Therion,” I ordered. “There are plenty more rounds in this thing.”
He swung his arm in response, launching black napalm for
my skull.
Cursing, I dove wide of the attack, coming up with my
sights trained on him.
Before I could fire on his back, he spun on his heel and
threw more of the fire at me as he went.
Knowing I wouldn’t be getting out of the way that time, I
banked on my often vindictive luck and fired.
Hellfire and silver collided, and the magic expanded with
a violent explosion as they offset each other.
When I regained the sense that I was, in fact, still
alive, I noticed a few things immediately.
For one thing, my ears were ringing from the explosion’s
sound, sending rippling waves of pain through my skull.
The pain vibrated along my every synapse, making my
vision greyed and blurry around the edges.
The second thing I realized was that I was flat on my ass
on the warehouse’s wood floor, with an ash outline surrounding me on all sides.
Most importantly, though, my gun was gone, and Therion
was getting up from where he’d been thrown, barely twenty steps away.
“Fek,” I gasped as I forced myself into motion.
By the time I’d gotten into a full stand, I was made
aware of one last fact.
My everything
hurt, and whatever drunk golfer that had gone to town on me had been thorough
enough to break some bones.
With a groan, I looked around desperately for a weapon.
Any weapon.
What I found was the broken hilt of the dagger with fiery
magic still swirling in its red gemstone.
It wouldn’t do me any good against a pissed off, wounded,
top-tier demon, though.
Which put my options squarely down to two.
I could use the rest of the salt I had on me and put up
another circle, hoping it would finish the rest of his power off.
Or I could use the last tool I had with me.
Between putting a molecule-thin sheet of magic between me
and certain death, or that option, the circle was the less dangerous choice.
It was also more likely to fail and bite me in the ass.
With a flourish, I reached into my jacket and pulled a
long, beaded necklace out.
Sparks tore through the air from the contact with my bare
skin, sending up small puffs of grey smoke where I was burned.
“Stop where you are, demon,” I demanded.
As I spoke, I let the necklace arc up and wrap fully
around my right fist, causing more pain to flare up.
“Prayer beads? Now you’re just being petulant,” he hissed
while gripping at his bleeding stump. “My kind of demons are more resilient
than you think, worm.”
He started charging at me, albeit with a slight limp, and
I moved.
Arms sweeping out, I carved a massive, burning silver
pentacle into the air.
“I call on all that from which shadows originate. Hecate,
Hades, Morrigan, Cerridwen, and Nyx, mothers of darkness and magic, give me
your aid from the five points of existence’s star!”
The pentacle pulsed with energy, and my pain tripled in
an instant.
I fought through it, refusing to go to my knees.
“Under the midday sun, I summon all shadows within this
domain, and call on thee to bind this creature of the Lower Realms. Gate
through which all souls pass, act as a cage under my will!”
Therion’s eyes widened in shock, but his sudden attempt
to stop his momentum was already too late.
He hit the wall of living, writhing magic between us, and
it was over.
Faster than a human brain could process, the trap rose
and surrounded him in an orb of opaque black.
As it took hold, I felt an alien awareness settle on me,
though I wasn’t sure if it was the cause of the sudden tremors rocking through
me, or the agony I was dealing with.
“And that’s the end of this game,” I huffed. You’re going
to give me Catherine O’Brian back, now, and then I’ll send you back to the
Lower Realms, arm and all.”
“If I don’t?” he snarled.
Therion lashed out at the circle, and immediately jerked
back when he was electrocuted and burned simultaneously.
“Your little bubble will burst, once you pass out, and
you look like you’re only seconds from that.”
“Ya’… apparently need to catch up… on some history… I
could die right now, an’ you still wouldn’ get free. Ye’ll die if… ya’ don’t
give me Catherine… Plain an’ simple. The onmyouji in Japan came up with some
nice tricks, in their day, an’ I added in some Celtic magic a my own. If I die,
the dimensional bubble goes with me, whether yer in it or not.”
Not that I was entirely sure that was true, really.
I’d never really wanted to test it, for some reason.
But he seemed to buy it, if his wide-eyed stare at the
bubble was any indication.
“No escaping this one,” I huffed.
I hoped it wasn’t obvious how hard I was fighting not to
drop to my knees and pass out, the bubble’s very existence draining me by the
second.
“Onmyou? People still use those archaic tricks?” he
asked, his surprise and fear overpowering the anger.
“I do. I’m commanding ya’ now, demon, heed this covenant.
Time’s runnin’ shorter ‘n my patience. Give me Catherine O’Brian, completely
healthy an’ unharmed in any way.”
His eyes narrowed, my will and power pressing down on his
damaged body to push the fact that yes, I had, in fact, hurt this badass demon
with only a mortal body and a shite ton of magic.
“You heed my words, Changeling witch. Nobody traps me. I promise you this, I
will have your head on a pike before the realms reach their end,” he snarled.
He brought his hand forward, and a pulse of energy went
through the air at my side.
Darkness coalesced in the air, becoming humanoid in shape
as it grew.
With a snap of
displaced magic, a thud sounded, and
I suddenly had a woman at my side.
She popped up from the floor and looked around in
complete terror.
“What!? W-where am I-I now?”
Catherine O’Brian, true to the deal, came across as
completely unharmed, physically and otherwise.
The air smelled like lilies with her entrance, and the
psychic miasma around us seemed to clear.
Some of my pain even vanished.
Evidently, she was the real thing.
“The deal is done, so release me from your presence,
witch, now!” Therion commanded with a
growl.
His voice sent Catherine jumping, and on noticing him,
she fell backward and desperately crawled away.
With a Herculean effort burning through me, I lifted an
arm to point at the dimensional rift.
“I release thee, demon, and cast you back to whence you
came whole. Creature of shadows and corruption, I command thee to stay any
future claims on Catherine O’Brian’s soul, your contract and claim to her
nullified as your freedom’s price,” I intoned.
In a burst of light, the orb vanished, as did Therion.
With a gasp of relief, I collapsed, amazed that the Gate
hadn’t outright killed me once its work was done.
“Umm… excuse me?”
I looked up, the motion sending fresh, hellish waves of
burning agony down my spine.
Without a demon nipping at my heels, I had the time to
really take Catherine O’Brian in while I fought for the strength to talk.
She looked almost nothing like her mother.
Instead of long, reddish-brown hair like her mother, she
had a platinum blonde curtain to her shoulders, which seemed entirely natural
even as it was nearly white in how bright it was.
Instead of cold, ice-blue eyes, hers were a warm shade of
emerald, and bright enough to have some kind of magic behind them.
She also stood at nearly half a foot taller than her
mother and had an athletic build, though my perspective from her feet might’ve
influenced that.
The only real similarities I could see were some parts of
her face’s shape, and her tanned skin.
“You’re Catherine O’Brian, yeah?” I wheezed.
She nodded, casting a wide-eyed stare around us.
“Where am I?”
“A warehouse at the docks… Did he do anythin’ ta’ ya’?”
She nodded, gripping at her right shoulder.
“When he first grabbed me on the way to school, he… he
cut me… He put some kind of symbol in my shoulder. It hurt real bad whenever I
didn’t do what he said…”
“That’ll go away in ‘bout a week, long as ya’ don’ run
inta’ anyone topside who knows ‘bout it,” I assured.
“Who are you?” she asked, very eager to change subjects.
“Morgana Lugus. Private investigator. Yer mom hired me
ta’ get ya’ back.”
Her expression closed, and she glared a hole into the
floor.
“Of course she did. That guy explained the whole thing.
She sold me to Hell so she could get a job and a boyfriend.”
She wasn’t growling, but only just.
With her anger, the air buzzed against me, waking the
pain that’d only just started to numb.
“Not exactly how it went. Don’ judge ‘er too harshly.
Demons tend ta’ exaggerate things.”
With a huff, I forced myself to sit up, and very nearly
passed out on the spot for my trouble.
“Yer mom was a short-sighted idiot, but she didn’ really
have anythin’ ta’ care ‘bout when she made that deal. Which is now voided, by
the way, so ya’ don’t have ta’ worry about ‘im poppin’ up an’ draggin’ ya’
back.”
“You broke his deal?” she asked with a blink.
The surprise lasted only seconds, though.
“So what!? That thing’s a freaking demon, if you missed that part? He-”
“Demons lie, exaggerate, steal, and do all sorts of
horrible business, but not a one a them’s an oath-breaker. Literally in their
genetics. Long as ya’ know how ta’ talk the lingo well enough, they can’t
loophole their way out. Yer free ta’ go.”
With how pissed off Therion had been, he’d probably be
looking for ways to do it, anyway.
Hopefully, making myself a target had solved the problem
for Catherine, at least.
“How-”
“Don’t worry ‘bout the logistics, kid. It’s best ya’
forget about all a this, chalk it up to a really bad nightmare, an’ go ‘bout
yer life normally, or sleep’ll come hard.”
“Like I’m ever gonna’ sleep again,” she grumbled.
With a very ladylike grunt, I finally managed to push
myself to my feet.
“Let’s get ya’ back. Give me a second, then we’ll go.”
With a sigh, I pulled out another salt packet.
I barely managed to toss the packet, spreading the salt
into the air.
“Let the darkness that taints this domain be swept away
upon the four winds!”
The salt vanished, and hundreds of small silver fires
flickered in and out of existence until there wasn’t any more corruption in the
warehouse.
That done, I trudged to the door, feeling the demigod
follow after me.
The entire drive back to my office, I kept thinking of my
nice, soft bed, and the small coma I’d be in as soon as I touched it.
Angel was waiting for us by the time we reached the
office, and she lunged for Catherine the second she appeared.
Catherine visibly tensed as her mother engulfed her in a
bone-crushing hug, tears rapidly falling on her shoulder.
“Catherine, oh, I’m so, so sorry! I had no idea… I didn’t know! Will you ever forgive me?”
she sobbed.
Her daughter didn’t respond, though she pulled her more
tightly into a hug.
The impact of the emotions swirling through the air
nearly drove me to the floor, the world becoming greyscale for a few seconds.
“The contract’s been voided. You don’ have ta’ worry
‘bout him from showing up again.”
“Oh, thank you so much!” Angel sobbed, not releasing her
daughter for a second.
“Don’t thank me. Both a ya’ should just forget about it
all,” I sighed as I plummeted into my chair.
With a nod, they turned to leave.
Before they made it to the door, my exhausted and
pain-hazed brain kicked up a buzzing sensation that wouldn’t go away.
“Catherine?”
“Yeah?” she asked.
Turning, she extracted herself from her mother’s grip
with surprising enthusiasm.
“Mom, can you go start the car? I want to go home and
sleep. I’ll be down in a sec.”
“Of course, honey,” Angel said before reluctantly making
her way outside.
I quickly rummaged through my desk until I found a metal
card.
“Take this,” I told her, slipping the black and purple
card over my desk as she approached.
“That looks kind of cool. What is it?”
As she touched it, her aura ignited with white fire,
before it quickly simmered down.
“My business card.”
“Nothing’s written on it,” she mused, flipping it over
and finding it to be just as blank.
“And hopefully it never will. But, if you start noticin’
anythin’, make sure you have that on ya’. You’ll see a number, then. If ya’
ever see anythin’ on it, I want you to call me, immediately.”
She stared down at the card, looking a lot more nervous
now.
“Noticing things? Like what?”
“Anythin’ out of the ordinary. Did Therion explain
anythin’ about why he wanted you,
Catherine?”
“Not in so many words. Wasn’t really chatty, thank god.
No, he just said I was special,” she
retorted with a shudder. “If special means getting to play around in Hell, I’ll
give it a pass.”
“Well, technically, he was right. You are special, Catherine. Miracle children
are often sought out by plenty a the things that hide in the dark. Not just
demons. That’s why Therion wanted ya’.”
Sitting back, I winced as a jolt shot through my spine.
“So just keep an eye out, kid. If ya’ see anythin’ on
that card, or see anythin’ that doesn’t seem right with the world around ya’,
call me. I’ll be there.”
“Okay… I will,” she said, seeming as excited as she was
nervous when she slid it into her pocket.
She was halfway through the door when she jerked to a
stop and turned back one more time.
“And thank you, for saving me. I don’t know how you did
it, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t safe to do it.”
“Ta’ put it lightly,” I quipped, though I softened it
with a smirk.
“Are you a witch?”
I blinked in surprise, surprised that I wasn’t being
allowed to pass out yet.
“I am.”
“That thing with the salt… I’ve seen my dad do stuff like
that, before. I don’t think mom knows, and I thought I was just imagining
things, but I wasn’t, was I?”
“That’s a conversation ya’d be better off havin’ with yer
da’.”
She cast a quick look over her shoulder, before giving a
nod, as though confirming her mother wasn’t listening.
“What am I?”
“A teenaged girl.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she stepped further back into the
room.
“A demon dragged me to his freakshow below the Earth. I’m
not just some teenaged girl who was
lucky to be born,” she scoffed.
A shrug worked some of the tension out of me, and I sat
up straighter.
“Talk ta’ yer dad.”
“Can I do stuff like he can? Like you can?”
“Anyone can do what I do, with enough blood and time
poured inta’ it. Well, probably not as well… I’m a bit… different, too. Similar ta’ ya’. Fer anythin’ else, talk ta’ yer
dad. Ya’ know where to find me. If he doesn’t answer ya’, we’ll pick up this
conversation.”
With that, I shut my eyes, signaling just how done I was
with that discussion, and the day as a whole.
“I get the feeling that I’ll be back,” she finally said,
her voice by the door.
“Have a good life, kid. I hope ya’ don’ ever have a
reason ta’ see me again. You should, too.”
She said nothing, and the door finally slipped closed
with a resigned click.
As I took in the silent, lily-scented air, my instincts
told me this was definitely not the last time I’d be seeing Catherine O'Brian…
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