The Redeemer

"Ah ha ha ha, stayin alive, stayin alive, ah ha ha ha, stayin alive"

The Bee Gees

~

"The darkest hours are just before the dawn"

English Proverb

Chapter 5- Survival

The air feels as though it's close to boiling. Every bone in my body feels broken. Laying with my blood dripping on dried leaves I'm not sure I have the strength left to get off the ground again. I haven't lifted my head from the dirt in what seems like an eternity. I have no idea where the beast that came for me is. In my ears, I can still hear the guttural grunts the beast makes with each breath. In my mouth, I can taste the sulfur palpable in the air permeating from the beast's flesh.

A thought from earlier returns to me, will I die tonight? It's getting easier to believe the answer is yes. My dead wife's eyes stare back at me through the fog of my mind. Her features are becoming more apparent in the haze of my thoughts. Her lips appear close enough to almost feel them pressed against mine. From somewhere deep inside my core, a voice keeps promising that if I don't move, in another minute, the beast that took the body of the man I was torturing will send me to hell. I almost want the beast to take me so I can look up from the lake of fire as my body burns to see my wife Julia and my girls Cheyenne and Emmaline in the skies of Heaven.

They say an animal will choose one of two outcomes when faced with danger, fight or flight. In other words, when the beast is at your door, you will either attempt to drive the beast back or slam the door and run. I tried fighting the beast who is in these woods with me and lost. Now, it's too late to run. I can only try to find a way to survive.

Slowly, I lift my crumpled body until I rest on one of my elbows. Pushing back against the pain raging inside me, I take a look around. The beast is twenty feet from me. Smoke rises from skin as black as charcoal. Flames spew from holes where a nose used to be before it melted away. Fanged teeth protrude from jaws that are no longer covered by lips. Little rivers of liquid glowing like lava spill from cracks in charred flesh. The body this beast animates walks naked, its clothes burned away, past the trees surrounding them, igniting the bark on the trunks as they pass. Cracks and hisses from moisture trapped inside burning wood mix with the beast's grunts to sing a chorus of death in the night.

The stars above me disappear in a rising cloud of smoke. Even the ground is hot when I put my hands down against the dead leaves and twigs covering the soil. Slowly, painfully, I manage to get my feet under me. The beast turns to look at me through glowing orange light emanating from inside dark sockets where my captive's eyes used to be. A fresh wave of fear races through my veins. I turn, hoping my adrenalin will still be there, and run for my life.

~

Lizzy opened the car door with her heart pounding in her chest. Above her, the evening sky was taking shape. Purple clouds were taking on a reddish-yellow glow with the falling sun's light. Her hands moved to her coat, wrapping it tighter around her waist. The weather was turning. The heat from just an afternoon ago had become a fading memory in the sight of her breath leaving her mouth.

Stone walls that looked as though they belonged more as a part of an English castle than a part of the forests of Northern California stood tall before her. Glassless windows and doorless entryways sat ominously in the early evening dusk. Blankets of moss covering ancient floors stretched into the massive ruins of the mansion. Her eyes drifted to a tower of bricks that stood out of place, jutting from the center of the roofless structure.

Closing her car door, Lizzy glanced at the changing sky above the car's roof and thought it might rain. Which she thought would be a perfect start to whatever was about to happen. Looking at the ruins of the mansion Jack London had once planned to make his home, her thoughts turned to the fire that burned it to the ground days before it was to be finished and wondered if she should go inside. A part of her was shouting that her fate was waiting inside the ruins beyond the decaying front entryway. Another quieter voice told her to get back in her Impala, drive away, and never think about the old mansion or who she was coming to meet again.

Taking a deep breath, she asked herself the same question she'd been asking herself on the way here Charles, where are you? Letting the breath out, she accepted the answer wasn't coming this time either. Stepping forward toward the ruins, she began to realize she'd been placed on the path in front of her by forces beyond her control, forces bleeding out of a world of secrets she was only beginning to learn about.

Walking through a stone doorway where she could see rusted door hinges from where a door once stood, she heard a voice.

"Back here, honey." An old woman with long silver hair said to her. The old woman stood near a hallway across the moss-covered floor from where she was just inside the ruins.

"Follow me, dear. We'll talk by the reflection pool." Then, the old woman, who was skinny but not frail-looking, turned and walked deeper into the labyrinth of stone and brick. Lizzy followed her without objection to an open courtyard inside the ruins that seemed out of place. A deep rectangle made of discolored concrete cut down into the ground. Arched stone walls surrounded the concrete on three sides, with the fourth side appearing to be constructed out of what she thought would have been the back wall of the mansion.

"This would have been the courtyard. Mr. London wanted to be able to see the pool from any floor of the house." The old woman said, and Lizzy thought that was nice to know, but not the reason why she had come. "Feel like I'm wasting your time?"

"Are you reading my mind?" Lizzy asked, taken aback by the thought of the old woman rummaging around in her thoughts." The old woman chuckled, revealing teeth that, at her age, were probably dentures.

"No, deary. I can tell by the look in your eyes." Lizzy put her phone in her pocket and took the old woman in. She was wearing a long tan colored trench coat. Her brown skin wore the years of her age well. High cheekbones gave an elegant look to her face. Green, vibrant eyes gazed back at Lizzy from below thick lashes. Absent its true color, long hair fell in natural waves that still looked healthy and full.

"Why am I here?" Lizzy asked.

"Why, I believe you think it's to get help capturing your villain." The old woman replied.

"You can at least tell me your name before you start playing games with me," Lizzy said, letting irritation drip into her voice.

"I would have already told you, but you never asked." The old woman's red lips turned up in a half-smile. "My name is Ankareeda, it means night star if you're curious."

"I wasn't. How can you help me?" Ankareeda looked at her, seeming to consider Lizzy for the first time.

"Not how you think. I'll help you find you're villain, but not to capture him. You are meant to go with him on his journey." Lizzy felt her knees involuntarily buckle.

"You weren't expecting me to say that, were you?" Ankareeda kept her eyes on Lizzy, letting a beat pass between them before she continued. "Would you like to know his name?"

"His name?"Lizzy repeated, immediately feeling like this was happening too fast.

"Caught you by surprise again." Ankareeda's smile widened a little. "His name is Jagger Donavon. He was a cop before all this started." Lizzy stood unmoving, stunned that she already knew the name. The national news had picked up the story. A cop's entire family slane in front of him before he was shot in the chest and left for dead.

"I can see the recognition in your eyes. It's the same man. The cop who lost his entire family in one night. Do you want to know why they were killed?"

"Why?" The word slipped from Lizzy's lips, barely audible.

"Because of the prophecies, dear." Ankareeda took a step toward her. "You're going to help him save us all." Lizzy felt dizzy. Her stomach dropped into her center, and she felt the first tendrils of panic start to rise inside her lungs. This was the moment you realize you've made a mistake just before danger hits. Taking a step back, she asked.

"What are you talking about? I'm going to arrest Jagger if that is his name, and they'll take him to Mantiwoc with all the other special abilities who've stepped out of line." She took another step away from Ankareeda.

"Stop," Ankareeda said the word in a low, calm voice.

"I'm leaving now. This, whatever you're doing is a mistake. I shouldn't have come." Lizzy turned to leave.

"When was the last time you saw Charles, Lizzy?" Ankareeda asked. Lizzy turned to face her.

"Why?" The word was a demand more than it was a question.

"You don't think it's odd he hasn't contacted you?"

"If you did something." Lizzy stepped forward, her hands wrapped tightly into fists at her sides.

"Not me, dear. Hades himself has locked your father in the prisons of the underworld." Lizzy took another step forward.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying if you don't start seeing the bigger picture, your father will spend eternity burning in one of Hades' cells." Her jaw flexed, and Lizzy stared at Ankareeda.

"What is it I'm supposed to see?"

"That this is more than a simple, how did you put it, out-of-line special ability," Ankareeda answered.

"Can you stop playing games and tell me just what the hell you think I'm supposed to do?" Lizzy asked and felt her blood rise when Ankareeda smiled at her.

"Why, dear, you're supposed to save the world."

"And, how am I supposed to do that, exactly?" Lizzy demanded.

"You can start by listening to me," Ankareeda replied before closing the distance between them and taking her by the hand. To her surprise, Lizzy didn't pull away.

~

Trees fly by. They are a sea of blurs I barely navigate. I feel the heat of the beast as he chases me. Every look I dare to take over my shoulder reveals him to look a little less human. His flesh drips off his body in charred drops, and I pray I can stay alive long enough for him to melt into a thousand pieces before he catches me.

My mind races with what is behind me. Something deep inside tells me the Devil himself is chasing me through this forest. The ridge in front of me rises steeper, and I worry I am running out of ground. I have no idea what is beyond the peak in front of me, a downslope I can navigate or a cliff I will plunge over to my death.

Night air rushes cool past my skin, offering only a slight relief from the heat rising behind me. I keep my eyes on the white glow of the moon suspended in the dark sky. My feet slip past rocks jutting out of the ground, seemingly on their own. The tallest peak of the ridge sits just in front of me. I put my head down and run harder. I have no choice. My strides lengthen and I find more speed. Then, I pass over the ridge and fall into nothing.

Wind envelopes me. My body is weightless as I fall. Turning, I look up at the ridge that is nothing more than a sheer cliff face. The beast that has chased me to my demise follows me over the cliff. His arms break away from his body at the shoulders before they crumble into orange embers, scattering into the night. His legs are next to go. Then, his torso breaks apart.

Something hard knocks the air from my lungs. Water rushes around my body, swallowing me whole. Embers of flesh from the man who turned into a beast fall through the water around me. I feel the bottom rise up against my back. I go prone before I get my legs under me and kick up. The resistance of the water slips through my fingers and past my arms. A vice closes around my lungs as the burning need for oxygen stretches across them. Cool, night air greets me again as my face breaks the water's surface. My mouth opens, and I take in a deep gasp of life-saving air into my lungs.

The water's current drags me along the base of the cliff, I fell from. Working with aching muscles, I swim at an angle toward the shore. Relief floods my mind when my feet touch the sand, and I drag myself onto the river bank. My entire body is cold, wet, and shivering. With what strength I have left, I send tendrils of magic to find where the Coronet is. Feeling its presence far to the north, I begin to walk back through the forest.

~

Modern pop music poured obnoxiously from the car in front of him. Smith reached forward with a hand that looked more like the demon he was rather than the human he was supposed to be. Opening the door, he relished the surprised look on the young man's face before he sank his sharp teeth into exposed tender flesh and tasted the young man’s sweet blood. Drinking it in. He let the violence of a life, leaving wash over him.

Growls mixed with grunts escaped his throat as he tore into the body dying underneath him. His powerful jaws snapped bones and ripped soft tissue and muscle. He swallowed the still-beating heart of the young man in one flex of his throat. He relished the feeling of this young life's force being absorbed into his ancient, black soul. But instead of satisfaction, he felt his hunger grow with every taste of the flesh he devoured. He needed more. He needed to lay waste to every mortal walking this wretched Earth around him.

Standing minutes later with nothing but a blood stain and bits of flesh thrown everywhere in the car in front of him, Smith felt himself returning to the human shape he despised. How long would this masquerade last before the prophecies could be made true? He asked himself as he put back on the suit jacket he'd let fall to the ground before the killing. Closing the buttons, he covered the blood that was splattered on his shirt. Slipping a white handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the blood from his face. Then, he used dark magic to repair the tears in his clothes where his flesh had expanded into his true form. After that, he glanced down at himself and used more dark magic to absorb any blood from the young man that could still be seen on his skin and clothes.

Looking through the spaces between the trees in front of him, he wondered where Elizabeth was at that moment. Maybe he would give her a baby to carry the way Rosemary had carried hers when his master sought an heir. A thought troubled him. His master's power was no longer in the north. The vessel that had carried him must be gone. Lowering his head, moving it from one side to the other, he couldn't escape the feeling he would be stuck on this Earth for much longer than he hoped.