Deliverance: A Preternatural Chronicles Novella Read online

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  Other books in the Preternatural Chronicles

  I’m Glad You’re Dead

  Dawn and Quartered

  Shadow of a Doubt

  4-13 to be written, calm down

  Chapter 1

  Houston, 1990

  F rantic footsteps echoed down the dark alley, accompanied by labored breaths of panic. The would-be rapist’s feet worked faster than his reeling mind and he stepped into a puddle that hid a deep pothole. Trembling hands shot out to cushion my dinner’s fall, but slipped on the wet concrete. I let out an eerie giggle that reverberated off the stone walls, as I dramatically skipped like a theater student trying out for the role of the playful Victorian girl — overdoing it as much as possible. My eyes glowed a fierce red as I smiled, baring teeth with two elongated canines. Long black hair whipped around my head as I skipped, a few times getting into my eyes and prompting a quick swipe of my hand.

  I did so enjoy living in a densely populated city like Houston because it afforded me with hunting grounds ripe for the picking. Whenever I was hungry, all I had to do was lurk in the shadows around high-crime neighborhoods and just… wait. This night, my preternatural ears picked up the cries from a young Latina woman whose only crime was walking on a sidewalk in a bad part of town after sunset. Following the screams which were ignored by the mortals living in the area, I came upon the crime in progress. The rapist was tearing at the young lady’s fast food uniform that had a white plastic name tag with the name, ’Anna’ stenciled upon it.

  Two glowing rubies emerging from the shadows made Anna stop screaming which caught the attention of her attacker. His hungry eyes lifted from exposed skin to see a face stunned in disbelief. Following her unbelieving gaze, the rapist turned his head to bare witness to the consequences of his life choices. Without waiting for orders from the brain, his legs began pumping in an attempt to flee his fate before plunging into the pothole between buildings. The rapist quickly rolled onto his back, attempting to crabwalk away while whimpering, “No! Please don’t hurt me!” He was slipping hysterically on the wet pavement when just minutes ago, his role was reversed.

  I leapt into the air, my black WWII trench coat billowing as I majestically soared, and landed on top of the naughty man. Black, steel toed Doc Marten’s crunched delicate parts between boot and concrete. The rapist’s eyes bulged to the point I thought they were about to burst from their sockets like champagne corks. He inhaled sharply, his throat whistling loud enough that I thought a train was about to come barreling out of his agony-stricken face.

  I twisted my feet before lifting my boots off of his hardboiled eggs that were now scrambled, with a split sausage to complete the ensemble. I stepped to either side of his writhing torso while blood rushed to escape its phallic prison, staining his blue jeans a satisfying karmic crimson.

  It was then when the once-rapist finished sucking in all the air into his lungs to the point of rupture, before unleashing a high-pitched scream that would probably be heard from the moon. At least he would have if not for a swift punch to his solar plexus that fractured his sternum like a windshield after a hail storm. Accumulated air rushed out in a single, shotgun blast that made my black hair blow back ever so slightly. His breath smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, and bad decisions.

  As veins bulged and capillaries broke in the no-longer-a-rapist’s face, I leaned down until we were nose to nose. As he stared wide-eyed into my glowing ruby pupils, I whispered, “What did the vampire say to the whimpering blood-bank?”

  He answered with wordless squeaks as his gaping mouth tried desperately to suck air into his collapsed lungs.

  I moved my mouth close to his ear and answered the question for him, “I’d like to make a withdrawal.” As I spoke, I willed my preternatural life energy into my blood, and oozed a stream out of my palm which coagulated into a razor-sharp dagger. I plunged my manifestation into the thugs blood-soaked liver. As my blood-dagger pierced his flesh, I began to exsanguinate the crimson life energy into my being.

  I moaned in purest elation as his blood flowed through my veins, tickling every nerve in my body like a lover running their fingers lightly across your skin. Over my entire being, hairs stood on end as wave after wave of unimaginable pleasure coursed through my eager flesh. My eyes rolled back into my head as my mouth hung agape in ecstasy.

  The big-gulps heart began to flutter erratically as his blood-tank wavered steadily from Full to Empty, relinquishing every last drop to its new master.

  As the final drop crossed the threshold, I slid my blood-dagger out of his shriveled liver, and willed the manifestation to retract back into my hand. Red eyes shifted to a brilliant purple, the color of sunset, as long fangs reversed, falling back in line.

  I stood, feeling the cool night caress my skin, which was warm from the fresh kill.

  With perfect comedic prowess, I burped before covering my mouth and exclaiming with wide eyes, “Excuse me!” to the empty alley. “Must have been something I ate,” I said to myself, as I bent down and grabbed the husk of a corpse by the belt. Looking up to the roof line of one of the buildings we were between, I jumped up with ease to land on the ledge, some twenty feet above the ground. I scanned the horizon, found the landmarks I was searching for, bent at the knees, and launched into the darkness. We soared over several buildings, my coat flapping in the wind which sounded like a diesel engine. My cargo lost a shoe in mid-flight, which made me smile for some reason. A building rushed up to meet us and I landed in a crouch only to explode into the night again.

  Within short order, I had arrived at my destination. A wide, calm river surrounded by nature on the eastern edge of the city, which hungrily awaited its prize. I walked to the edge of the embankment, lifted my offering, and tore a limb from the torso. I whistled a few times as if I were summoning a loyal dog, and threw an arm into the murky water. Within moments, a log floated from the shadows and burst from the water long enough to grab the flesh between prehistoric jaws before disappearing into the inky depths. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

  I tore another piece of meat from the socket and tossed it in, whistling a staccato to signal mealtime. Several more alligators cruised over to the floating protein and began fighting over the morsel.

  “Whoa there, fellas. I brought enough for all of ya,” I exalted delightedly, as I began tearing chunks of white and pink flesh, tossing them into the bubbling fray. It was a darkly humorous twist on old people feeding bread to ducks.

  As I threw the shoeless foot into the water, a smaller evidence-destroying-machine came up and jerked the meal under the surface. My slight smile became a full toothy grin as the ripples on the water expanded outward, only to diminish and become calm again. I was proud of my gator babies and felt like I was making the world a better place, one meal at a time.

  Crickets chirped in chorus to the peaceful sound of the gentle, glass top water as it flowed. A bright moon illuminated the grass I knew to be green, though it was hard to distinguish without manmade lighting or my preternatural eyes. When in full predator mode, I could see in the darkness as if it were brightest day.

  The wind tugged at my coat and exposed shoulder length black hair, blowing the loose strands over my face. A hand absentmindedly brushed the hair out of my eyes and back around my ears. Having preternatural hair I could never cut was tedio
us at times. Even if I buzzed it down to my skin, it would just instantly slither out of my skull like a Play-Doh toy and back into existence where it could continue its eternal war with the wind.

  Job done, I moved my consciousness from behind my eyes and into the control room of my mind. My exact copy stood with one hand on a steering wheel that was in the center of the room. One of my hands rested on it as well, signifying a harmonious split between my Predator Self, and my…um…self-self.

  Predatory Self, or PS as I uncreatively called him, was my exact clone, with a few distinct differences. His eyes were permanently red, and his skin was darker as if perpetually cast in shadow. He didn’t speak much, or at all. We communicated through a series of nods and me yelling at him.

  PS was the personification of my vampiric instincts, desires, and undeniable need to feed. I wasn’t entirely sure if he was a machination my mind created after I was given the dark gift by Ulric in 1480; or if he was a metaphysical being bestowed upon me when I drank my makers blood all those centuries ago.

  PS and I had a give and take relationship; if I gave him too much control over my body, he would take everything he wanted without pause to consider the consequences. I’m ashamed to admit that he has taken full control more than a few times, with me barely getting the wheel back before irreparable damage had been done. That being said, he has also saved my bootylicious body countless times over the past 500 years. When PS has full control of the wheel — which were once reins long ago— he is an unstoppable killing machine. Because of my vampiric doppelganger dwelling in my mind, we have defeated the likes of horrifying demons, vicious Fae, and even a vengeful ancient god or two (small g).

  I nodded at PS who began loosening his grip on the wheel, releasing control back to - a blast of white, blue, and red fire enveloped me like a tidal wave. PS shoves me off the wheel as I stood, frozen in flaming agony. My hair flared and disintegrated in an instant as the flames ate at my unprotected head, melting my skin with alarming efficiency.

  With PS in full control over my body, I dove head first into the murky water, extinguishing the flames. My body was wracked with pain as if every nerve in my exposed skin had been attached to a generator powerful enough to run all of Houston.

  [Heal!] I cried out to PS as I writhed in anguish inside the control room of my mind. I forced myself to look at PS as he concentrated on healing the burns that brought about impossible amounts of pain. Turning to me, he shook his head frantically, signaling he could not heal the wounds from the flames. [Heaven-fire!] I screamed through gritted teeth as the realization struck. PS nodded determinedly and looked back at the windows that were my eyes, falling back into consciousness. I looked at the control room eyes and became a passenger in my own body, wracked with burning anguish. Somehow, I was always the one who experienced the pain — though we both received the elation at feeding. Explain to me how that’s fair; I’ll wait.

  I moved under the water until my feet touched the bottom and sent my senses out all around me. I felt my eyes shift and fangs elongate in reaction to PS taking control. Within seconds, I found my attacker. The heat signature stood out even through the silt filled water because I was seeing it through my preternatural senses — not simply my eyes.

  I oriented on my target, extended my arms to either side while still underwater, and brought my hands together in a wide clap that created a sonic boom. A tsunami of brown water fifteen feet tall rushed from the river and up the bank, with me running right behind it.

  Through the massive wave, I could see the red outline of my attacker move his hands in front of him, one hand circling the other clockwise. As the wall approached, he brought his hands into his stomach and then shot them out in front of his body.

  [Jump!] I yelled in my head, which PS obliged to. A wedge of invisible force cut through the water, creating a space wide enough for the skilled man to pass unharmed. The water crashed around our attacker as his head swiveled to search for me. Across the river, I was vaguely aware that trees were crashing to the ground from where they had been decimated by the spell. At the crest of my leap, I willed a blood-longsword out of my palm and held it with both hands, ready to bring it down on my targets head.

  As I came within spitting distance, I brought the manifestation down in a vicious strike that would cleave entire city busses in half with ease. I pulled my lips back in a shark’s grin and realized my skin was still melting off my skull, exposing muscle and bone. This didn’t phase PS who was in complete control at the moment; and right now, I wasn’t complaining. I wanted him to have a clear head while attacking.

  The mage, paladin, or warlock — or whatever the fuck he was that could use holy magic — simply lifted his arm and uttered a quick word. Blinding white light shot down the length of his arm which intercepted my blade, shattering it like an ice-sculpture that had been knocked to the ground at a friend’s wedding that you were no longer allowed to see again because his wife was mad you ruined her day — or something like that.

  As the energy I had used to create the blade was destroyed, PS and I were both hit with white hot sheets of pain that completely stunned us. Physical pain was one thing, but not even PS could ignore the devastation that was the loss of life energy that we put into our manifestations. I fell limply to the ground, muscles frozen in shock as our attacker looked down on us. He was a priest, complete with black robes and the white-collar thingy that told everyone how much better than you they were. I liked him immediately for some reason.

  He kicked me onto my back and extended an open hand towards my chest. An unseen elephant sat on my torso, pinning my arms and legs to the ground. Struggle as I might, I couldn’t free myself. I was vaguely aware that the skin on my skull had stopped melting; win!

  The priest began chanting and I looked up to fully see his face. He was in his mid-forties, had salt and pepper hair that teased receding that sat above a worn face. He had both smile and frown lines etched into his features. Brown eyes scowled from beneath bushy eyebrows that regarded me with professional disdain.

  [Oh fuck! He’s gonna exorcise us!] I screeched, on the precipice of losing my shit. [Does that even work on vampires!?]

  PS slapped my face and pointed at his temple forcefully. [Right,] I started, willing myself to calm the fuck down, [think. Use my big ol’ sexy brain. Um…what about if we…]

  Without warning, my skin started to heat up all over my body to the point of extreme alarm. The sensation sped past ‘uncomfortable’ at relativistic speeds and landed on ‘excruciating’ without even the tiniest bit of foreplay. PS did something then I had rarely seen in all our time together; he began squirming with pain plastered on his face. The cords on his neck stood out as eyes bulged. It was my body being exorcised, but both of our immortal essences, which were permanently intertwined, were being attacked.

  I tried to scream but I couldn’t get any air into my lungs with the invisible aircraft carrier sitting on my chest — luckily, I didn’t need to breath in order to live. BUT, like most things, I did need to not conflagrate in order to survive.

  PS slapped me again, and aggressively tapped his temple in pained agitation. Through a clenched jaw, I screamed, [I know I know! Think!] I let my mind flow free and latched onto the first thought that came to me like a kung-fu master snatching a fly out of the air with chopsticks. If I was honest with myself, it would be more like reaching into a raging river made entirely of salmon, missing every grab, falling in, and then climbing back out to see one of the fish had landed on the bank in sheer luck.

  PS took one hand off the wheel and I took hold, throwing my consciousness back into the driver’s seat with PS sitting next to me.

  As my skin began to bubble, I concentrated on the hand closest to the priest. A blood-snake slithered out and inched forward low to the ground. Once it reached his feet, it began circling the priest’s perimeter until it had wrapped around in a circle a few times. I willed the blood-snake to jump up, coil around the priest’s legs, and tighten with preter
natural speed.

  My attacker lost his balance as his legs were slammed together, forcing his concentration and chanting to drop as well. The invisible moon that sat on me was lifted, and I slammed my elbows into the ground, springing me up to my feet in a blur. I grabbed the priest’s elbow and sent out another blood-snake that wrapped around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides. My skin stopped bubbling, and I took a brief moment to assess my damage before dealing with this holy do-gooder.

  As I looked down at my body, searching for damage, the priest started whispering. Warmth spread over my skin again which started growing in intensity. My eyes shot from my blistered body to the priest’s eyes, and I tsked him like a parent catching their kid’s hand in the cookie jar. To shut him up, I willed the snake head to slither up his chest and into his mouth. Relief washed over me when his jaws stopped moving. Not only because I was annoyed by him, but also for the fact that he nearly boiled me alive in my own skin using his stupid holy magic.

  “Who…the fuck…are you?” I asked between heaving breaths of anger interlaced with exhaustion.

  The priest answered in mumble.

  “Oh, right,” I said as I willed the snake head just outside of his mouth. “Try anything and I’ll make this snake go all the way through until it hits moonlight. Do-you-understand-me?” I enunciated each word in the last sentence aggressively, letting my red eyes glow brighter in warning.

  “I understand, my son,” the priest said all too calmly, prompting an eyebrow to climb up my face.

  “Dude, I’m over 500 years old. Don’t call me son,” I instructed, annoyed.

  “Simply a term of endearment, Jonathan.”

  “It’s just John and I don’t give a fuc-wait, how the hell do you know my name holy-man?” My face contorted in a scowl as a seed of unease planted itself in my chest.

  PS attempted to nudge me off the wheel and began squeezing the snakes still wrapped around the mortal priest. The human groaned in protest as I looked at PS inside my mind, and said, [Dude. What are you doing? He’s not a threat anymore.]