THE TRAGIC + DIVINE Read online

  “Tell him to stop!” my mother begged.

  After Paul passed out, Milo dragged his limp body into the house. I ran downstairs and met Milo in the kitchen where he knocked everything off the island then plopped Paul’s body on top.

  “What did you do to him?” My mother screamed at Milo, a look of accusation in her eyes. She placed her head over Paul’s chest to check for a heartbeat.

  “He’s possessed. He needs an exorcism,” Milo announced.

  CHAPTER

  26

  My mother eyed Milo warily clutching my arm, so I didn’t get near him. Despite Milo saving my life from whatever demon was possessing Paul, my mother didn’t trust him. Milo stood in the corner of the kitchen, arms crossed maintaining an unusually calm, cool demeanor. He was used to people like my mother eyeing him like a hawk.

  “I’m sorry about your husband,” Milo said to my mother as a form of consolation. “I’m sorry we had to meet this way.”

  My mother remained silent and pulled me even closer.

  Seconds later, Alva barged into the kitchen and examined Paul’s body. My mother stared shrewdly at Alva’s blue hair and black leather trench coat. She wore a pair of leather fingerless gloves. Alva looked like she’d just stepped out of The Matrix.

  “I need a bucket, a few towels, duct tape and sunglasses,” Alva instructed removing her coat.

  My mother remained next to Paul as I ran throughout the house to fetch the supplies. I found the towels inside the laundry room, the sunglasses in my car, and the rest of the items in the pantry.

  “Why do we need the duct tape?” I asked confused.

  “When I extract the demon, it will be looking for another host. The duct tape stops you from screaming,” she clarified. “It’s going to get very bright in here. That’s what the sunglasses are for.”

  I did as Alva instructed, and so did my mother. My mother tried to steady her hands, it was apparent she was way in over her head.

  Alva took out a small apothecary bottle from a black leather holster bag she wore like a belt that strapped around her thigh. After removing the black crystal top, she clapped her hands together then rubbed them as if she were warming them up. Alva closed her eyes, then placed her hands over Paul’s chest. Out of her mouth came a low melodic chanting in Hebrew. Paul’s body began to jolt, his black eyes popped open and glared at Alva. He twisted in pain, he tried to get up, but the weight of Alva’s hands kept him locked down. Whatever was inside him was seriously pissed. I gripped my mother’s hand tightly, every cell in my body panicked.

  A very bright blue light radiated out of Alva’s hands. It was the type of brightness equivalent to the sun with the capability of burning through the pupils.

  Paul’s body began to convulse, a bestial shriek escaping his mouth. His stomach bulged out as if the demon was trying to push out of his belly. Alva continued to chant more aggressively now, the bulge moving up like a lump from his stomach to Paul’s throat.

  “The bucket!” Alva yelled.

  I grabbed the bucket off the floor and held it next to Paul. He flipped over and gagged but missed the bucket. He vomited black fluid all over me with chunks of tiny dead insects.

  I gasped on the verge of puking.

  Then, a whirling vortex of smoke shot out of Paul’s mouth. It hung above us swirling around taking on different demonic animal shapes vanishing just as fast as they appeared. The bone-chilling demonic howl was followed by ghastly female laughter. Alva kept her hands on Paul, her face in full concentration, as the demon hesitantly drifted into the bottle.

  Paul started to cough, his face drastically changed color as the blood returned to his face. He let out a sigh of relief, his eyes softened as soon as he saw my mother.

  “Brenda?” Paul said, his voice raw and shaky.

  “Paul?” My mother cupped Paul’s face. “Is it really you?”

  “I’ve been lost inside my head for so long, I thought it was never going to end,” Paul cried.

  “Oh my God,” my mother said relieved. She pulled Paul into her and embraced him.

  They both cried like babies. My eyes shifted from Paul to my mother. I wasn’t sure how to react. This was the man who tortured me since we moved to Dixon. The same man who made my life a living hell. Was I supposed to feel happy? Sad? Relieved?

  “How did he become possessed?” I asked Alva.

  “Demons prey on the weak-minded. Often their victims suffer from depression, PTSD,” she explained. “But a demon cannot enter a body unless it’s summoned through occult objects.”

  “La Santisima Muerte.” It dawned on me. “I’ll show you.”

  I escorted Alva to my mother’s bathroom where she kept the Saint of Death shrine. As soon as Alva saw it, a spark of recognition crossed her eyes.

  “Lilith,” Alva confirmed in a whisper. “She’s the oldest and most powerful demon on Earth. One of the first Nephilim born to the Grigori angels.”

  “No, that’s impossible,” my mother said. She walked into the room along with Paul and Milo. “She’s a Saint. She’s brought many blessings into our life.”

  “Oh yeah, like what?” I challenged. Ever since my mother brought that thing into our house, bad things happened. You could slice the negative energy inside our house with a knife. My mother stayed quiet because she knew I was right.

  Alva stepped closer to the skeletal statue to inspect it.

  “What about the jars?” I asked.

  “Prisons. The name inside becomes a prisoner of Lilith. It’s like giving her permission to possess the body.” Alva’s words reached my mother like a cold gust of wind, and it was written all over her face.

  “Mine broke,” I said.

  “Lilith prefers to possess”—she took one quick glance at Paul—“men.”

  My mother looked at Paul who was still shaken from the exorcism. She dropped her head in shame, tears filling her eyes.

  “I didn’t know. I thought I was protecting my family,” she said with tears slowly dripping down her cheeks. “I thought I was helping Paul get rid of his PTSD. That’s what I was told, anyway.”

  Alva touched the statue when suddenly the ground began to rumble. The sound of thunderous wings flapping overhead sent everyone into a panic. Alva and Milo remained calm but vigilant.

  “What’s happening?” I asked scanning the ceiling.

  “I don’t know,” Alva replied. She took out two daggers with a black crystal shaped like a blade.

  I opened the curtain, I jumped back when I saw Dylan’s face smiling back at me with a menacing glare through the window glass. “Are you having a party? Where was my invitation?” he laughed.

  The front door pounded, behind it I heard Scarlet’s unmistakable voice. “Come out, come out, where ever you are,” she sang.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Milo.

  “I don’t know,” he said with an edge in his voice that told me he was seriously pissed off and as confused as I was.

  I ran to the living room and looked out the window. Outside, there were at least a dozen angels surrounding the house eerily standing like statues. Anxiety and fear gripped at the nape of my neck. I rushed back to the entry where Milo took guard by the door.

  “What do you want Scarlet?” Milo asked.

  “You know what we want.”

  “You can’t have her,” Milo growled.

  “You’ve groomed her long enough, don’t you think Milo?” Scarlet hissed. “I think it’s time she comes with us.”

  Milo clenched his jaw. What the hell was Scarlet talking about?

  “I’m not giving her up,” Milo replied. He put on a pair of black leather gloves and pulled out two daggers exactly like Alva’s with black crystal blades.

  “Now Milo, you know what happens to traitors.” Scarlet clicked her tongue. “If I were you, I’d put the obsidian daggers away and give her to me. You don’t want her blood on your conscious, do you?”

  Milo’s nose flared deep in thought. He kept the blades in his
hands weighing his options. Alva took one look outside the window and saw they were outnumbered.

  “Just do as she says,” Alva advised Milo even though her face was uncertain.

  Milo shook his head.

  “Milo there are too many of them. We can’t take them on. We’ll get killed.”

  “They are not taking my daughter!” My mother yelled. She vanished into her room then came out wielding a rifle with Killer behind.

  “Don’t go out there!” I cried, but she wouldn’t listen.

  “Get out of my way!” She pointed the gun at Milo.

  Milo raised his hands, “That’s not a good idea. Put the gun down.”

  “Move, or I’ll shoot you.” Hesitantly, Milo moved. My mother opened the front door and pointed the gun straight at Scarlet’s head. Scarlet took a step back.

  “Get the hell out of my house!” My mother shouted at Scarlet, but she didn’t move. She sauntered toward my mother. “I mean it!” My mother shouted again.

  Scarlet crept closer when my mother pulled the trigger. Scarlet’s hand moved so fast, we didn’t see where the bullet went. Then Scarlet’s lip rose to an evil grin. She raised a hand, the bullet was in her fingers. Scarlet picked up Killer, who ran out of the house growling and barking trying to bite her, she opened her mouth to reveal a mouth full of jagged sharp teeth and two long fangs. Scarlet sunk her teeth into Killer’s little neck. Killer yelped as his blood dripped down Scarlet’s mouth. After she sucked him dry, Scarlet tossed Killer’s lifeless body to the grass like a rag doll.

  My skin crawled. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Bloodsucking angels with fangs.

  “When did they get fangs?” I swallowed, my lip quivering. The curse, I thought. The angels were cursed to crave the flesh of humans. They’re going to skin us alive and use our faces as masks for Halloween.

  My mother—utterly white in the face—ran back inside the house and locked the door behind her. I’d never seen my mother so scared before. Milo didn’t mention this the day of the lake. Probably because he knew I’d run the other way and never look back.

  Dylan kicked the door in, it fell to the ground with a loud bang. Milo blocked the entrance.

  “What’s it gonna be Milo? Will you rise with us or fall with them?” Dylan asked. Milo turned his head back, his cold calculating stare burned into my eyes. He remained stoic, poker-faced. If he felt anything at all, he didn’t show it. Then, in a flick of a second, I could have sworn I saw an apologetic look cross Milo’s face.

  Milo moved out of the way. I nearly fainted at Milo’s betrayal. I felt a sharp jab in my stomach almost like I’d been stabbed with a knife. I screamed louder than I’d ever screamed before. Dylan grabbed my arm, but I fought back with tooth and nails. That’s when I felt a hot searing, stinging pain on the side of my head followed by an intense dull ache. It wasn’t long before my world turned black.

  CHAPTER

  27

  My brain was going in and out of consciousness as I attempted to open my eyes. My vision was blurred, a throbbing pain pulsated from the back of my head. I slowly managed to sit up straight and massaged my neck to ease the pain but only made it worse. I cried out in pain. I was in a strange empty room with only a queen-size bed barren of sheets or pillows. A bedside lamp sitting on the floor provided the only light. There wasn’t a window, just a door. When I looked down to examine the mattress, I noticed brown stains all over and the disgusting smell of urine. The stench filled my nose and permeated my senses, I thought I was going to gag.

  Glancing around, I couldn’t tell if it was day or night. I had no recollection of how I got there. The last thing I remembered was standing at the entry of my house when Dylan kicked the door in. I began to panic once the memories began to trickle in. I’d been kidnapped by Dylan and Scarlet.

  I could be anywhere. Fear prickled down my spine at the thought. I ran for the door but found no doorknob. My heart sank. There wasn’t a way out. My body slowly crumbled to the ground as I let out a shaky sigh and curled my arms over my head. The feelings of desperation and hopelessness engulfed my body.

  What did I get myself into? I was knee deep in shit, and there was no way I was getting out of this one. I hugged my body in self-pity and buried my head in my knees. I sobbed like a little baby. I wanted to go home, but the thought of home made me cry even harder. This was my fault. How could I have been so stupid to trust Milo? Even after Scarlet’s warning at Stone Mountain?

  The sound of footsteps nearing startled me. I sat back in the bed like an obedient child when I heard the deadbolt unlock with two loud clicks. A girl, around my age, dressed in tight shorts and purple tank-top was escorted into the room by an angel wearing gloves and a black uniform with the symbol of the sun on the shoulder. On his holster, he carried the same dagger with the black crystal blade Milo had. Obsidian blades, Scarlet had called them.

  The girl walked towards me carrying a mesh tote full of makeup and shower items on her arm. The angel guard closed the door and stood by.

  “I’m Skye. I’m here to help you get ready,” she said in a tone hard to decipher. She sounded annoyed she was chosen for the task, but there was a hint of fear in her voice. I stuck my hands between my legs and kept my vision low.

  Skye sat next to me and asked, “What’s your name?”

  My lips remained sealed. I turned away from her.

  “It’s easier if you cooperate. If you don’t, they’ll do things…awful things.” The tension in her voice told me she was petrified.

  My body began to tremble, hot tears suddenly escaped my eyes. “Where am I?” I asked in a shaky voice.

  “You’re in a place for girls.” Skye grabbed a brush from the bag and combed my hair. I flinched then pulled away from her. “This will be your new home from now on.”

  My new home? I cried again, this time a little harder.

  Annoyed by my tears, as if she’d seen the exact same reaction many times before, Skye rolled her eyes.

  “Come on,” she said dryly. “I have to give you a tour.”

  I followed Skye out of the door into a cold, wet and dimly lit passageway carved through rock. Water slowly dripped onto a small basin surrounded by stalagmite pillars of different shapes and sizes. I realized I was inside a cave.

  “Watch your step,” Skye warned. “It’s slippery in some areas.”

  “What is this place?” I asked.

  “Does it matter?” Skye responded curtly.

  I followed Skye closely, the angel guard remained glued to both us, until we reached a large opening that had green lockers on one side of the wall, on the opposite, vanity mirrors with globe lights around each one. A group of girls, a few of them around my age, stood in front of the mirrors applying makeup and wore paper-thin outfits paired with high heels. The red lipstick made the younger ones resemble mature Lolitas.

  My stomach clenched. I was inside a brothel. I hugged my body, as if to shield myself from the horrific lives the girls led.

  “This is where you will get dressed every night before you leave,” she mentioned.

  “Leave? Where?”

  “Your sole purpose is to make money. If you don’t, they’ll beat you,” she said in a God-fearing tone as if she’d experienced it before. I noticed a scar on her neck like she’d been burned—no—branded in a shape of the sun. When Skye saw me staring at the scar, she draped her hair over it.

  A tear escaped my eye.

  Skye wiped the tear away, leaned into my ear and whispered, “don’t let them see you cry. It’s a sign of weakness. They devour the weak.” She pulled away and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. As long as you behave”—her lip curled slightly—“you’ll be left alone.”

  The bathroom smelled of disinfectant and sweat, not even the vapor coming from the hot water could hide the stink. I placed my forehead against the shower tile, the grout stained yellow with age, allowing the hot water to burn my skin red. I’d been in the shower for a few minutes, but time f
elt like an eternity.

  Skye stood outside with the angel guard, both vigilantly watching my every move.

  “Time’s up.” I heard Skye say. “You’re eating up all the hot water.”

  Skye opened the shower curtain catching me off guard. I covered whatever I could with my arms, but Skye kept her focus on my face.

  “You have nothing I haven’t seen before,” she said as she handed me a towel.

  After I got dressed in the clothes Skye had for me—a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, I was escorted into a large room similar to the dressing rooms except instead of mirrors there where several round tables and many new faces. In the corner, there was a rectangular table full of biscuits wrapped in yellow paper near a microwave and water bottles. I didn’t see any of the girls who were getting dressed earlier. I wasn’t met with curious stares. Other than the few hushed conversations, the girls mainly kept to themselves as they ate in silence.

  “I’m not hungry,” I told Skye timidly.

  “Eat,” she said in an irritated voice. “You need the energy.”

  Skye grabbed two biscuits and two bottled waters. I followed her to an empty table where I sat down and kept my head low. Skye placed the food in front of me, but I couldn’t eat it. How could anyone eat in a situation like this? Just thinking about food while they forced the girls do God-knows-what, made my stomach churn.

  Scanning the room, I noticed another angel guard standing by the door tentatively watching the girls eat, watching for disobedience. He wore the same black uniform with the symbol of the sun on the shoulder, same gloves, the same obsidian daggers as the angel who escorted Skye and me. The weapon must be very powerful if all the angels carried it, and because they wore gloves, the angels couldn’t touch it.

  After a long dreaded silence, I asked Skye, “How did you end up here?”

  “It’s a long story,” she said.

  “He convinced her to prostitute herself,” said a girl with short coal hair and bangs up to her hairline. She sat down at our table. Her skin was pale, and she had dark circles under her eyes like she hadn’t slept in days. “You must be one of the new ones. I’m Ruby.”