Her touch burned like ice

If someone had told me a year ago that I would be hunting demons, I’d have called them crazy. Since finding my lover the unwilling sacrifice in a dark ritual, however, I had suddenly become a believer. Unfortunately, he hadn’t survived, and I’d barely escaped with my sanity in tact.

And now, with the anniversary of his death less than an hour away, I crouched in the shadows of the warehouse to which I’d tracked the human worshipers of this demon. They were all dressed in long black robes, a wide red zigzag adorning the hem and the edge of the hood that kept their faces in shadow.

I spent every free minute researching, tracking and training. I’d only just discovered which demon was responsible for his death just a few weeks before, and since then I’d dug up as much information on it as I could. I had to figure out how to kill it.

I remained motionless, watching from the shadows as the worshipers prepared their altar, drawing a circle on the floor with cryptic symbols. They lit black candles, burned incense and anointed each other’s foreheads with blood.

My pulse sped when they discarded their robes, their nude forms softly lit by the wavering sea of flames and the incense smoke wafted in circles as they walked through it. They spaced themselves out around the circumference of the circle, all facing inward, and my fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle I held as I watched.

While I lay in the hospital a year ago, recovering from the physical and emotional beating I’d taken, I’d had a visitor; a stranger. She was the most petite woman I’d ever seen, no more than five feet tall with soft curves and long auburn hair. She looked perfectly average, but she didn’t feel average; the pulse of the energy that came into my room with her choked me.

She was soft spoken, her hands clasped in front of her as she walked slowly toward my bed, stopping to look down into my battered face. Her voice was soft as a rose petal when she spoke, “I know what did this to you.”

My eyes went wide because I hadn’t told anyone what I’d seen, certain they would have me committed to the loony bin if I did, I’d claimed memory loss and that was accepted. “I don’t know what…”

“Yes you do.” She interrupted my practiced lie, her blue eyes piercing mine, and I found it impossible to lie to her. Over the course of weeks and months we became friends. She educated me on the occult, separating fact from fiction, and teaching me the ways of magic. Together we uncovered the cult of followers, and tracked them to the warehouse where they would again summon the demon.

I looked around the perimeter of the room in which I hid, my eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of my mentor, knowing I wouldn’t find any. The worshipers chanting was rising, reaching a crescendo that made my head pound. I felt their collective voices in my veins, pulsing through my bones, and it took all I had not to cry out.

The symbols that made up the circle began to glow, humming with green light that seemed to climb out of the floor and reach for the ceiling. The haze of diluted beams touched overhead, and in a brilliant flash the demon appeared. His shape was smudged, a black smear on our plane of reality, and I knew it would only take the blood of a human sacrifice to make him corporeal.

I bided my time, knowing I wouldn’t be able to kill him until the sacrifice was made. I’d had to come to terms with the fact that someone was going to have to die for this trap to work, but that one death would prevent, and avenge, thousands.

A pair of worshipers stepped out of the circle, disappearing into the shadows and returning with their sacrifice draped in semi-sheer red silk. The shape under the cloth struck a familiar chord in my mind and my brow furrowed.

With more words, and more chants, the silk was removed with a flourish and I was paralyzed; there stood my mentor and friend. She was naked, wrists bound with thick red rope, and her blue eyes found me in the darkness. He gaze bore into me, and conveyed her order to finish what we had started.

She was led to the altar, hands lifting her and laying her along the stone slab, her thick hair cascading over the sides. The demon moved toward her, hovering over her for a moment before speaking in a drawn out hiss, “Wiiiiitccccchhhhh.”

I watched the scene unfold, my body taut as a pulled bow string, knowing what had to happen. I was furious now, more furious than I thought I was capable of being; this monster had taken my lover, and now I had to give up my friend as well. I felt the rage well up inside me, the pressure inside my skin unbearable as I watched the high priest approach the altar.

He raised a sinister looking knife overhead, clutching the handle in both hands while chanting and then driving the foot long blade into her belly. I heard the steel hit the stone, heard her cry out and heard the monster sigh when her blood surged out of the wound and cascaded onto the floor.

I had to wait, despite the pain in my soul, I had to wait.

The demon skulked around the base of the altar, the blood disappearing where he touched it. The more he took the more solid he became until his seven foot frame loomed over her. He plucked the dagger free of her body, licking the blade clean and tossing it aside. I knew what came next; I knew that the goal of this monster was to fornicate with his followers, impregnating the women with his poisonous seed. I also knew, however, that he always raped the sacrifice first, and I had to spare her that horror.

I stripped out of my clothes and walked toward the circle, my calm façade masking the rage and terror that beat inside me. I held the bottle behind my back, my hands trembling as I hoped to blend into the masses. The demon was moving toward her, opening her legs, and I knew I was out of time.

With practiced focus I burst from the circle and ran toward the monster, smashing the bottle against the floor at his feet while uttering the words that would destroy him. The white smoke that erupted from the shattered glass whirled up and wrapped around him, heedless of his deep bellows and venomous cursing.

The cultists swarmed me, and I dove toward the discarded dagger, clutching the handle before rolling to my feet. Time seemed to slow down and speed up all at once, the air was filled with the cries of those I killed and the fading screams of the demon. In what seemed like an instant eternity I found myself standing amid a sea of corpses, my body covered in their blood, my breathing coming in ragged gasps.

As some degree of calm came over me I tossed the knife aside and ran to the altar, bending over my friend’s still form. Her blue eyes fluttered open and stared up at me as I pressed my hand to the wound in her belly. There was virtually no blood flow to staunch, she was running dry and I couldn’t save her.

“I pass this to you,” she said, using the last of her energy to lift her hand and press her palm to my forehead. Her power shot into me, her touch burned like ice, and I cried out at the overwhelming influx of magic she was bestowing on me as her life winked out.