Tainted, Book One: Possessed

1. Hellbound

No tree, it is said, can grow to Heaven unless its roots reach down to Hell. - Carl Jung

Kerry Harker

I ran through the night, a stitch in my side and cramps in both legs. After the day I'd had, I just wanted to curl up in a corner and pass out for a few hours.

Eventually, I slowed down and looked around at the neighborhood I'd stumbled into. I'd never been here before; I was sure of it. The houses stood in dark, quiet rows and seemed taken care of and clean. There wasn't even any litter blowing around the sidewalks or hunched up in the corners.

Reminds me of home.

Wheezing, I rubbed my chest as the old ache ripped through it. I tried not to think about home too often. I tried not to think about anything too often.

Exhaustion caught up to me and my feet tangled. I went down hard and didn't bother to get up. Closing my eyes, I lay on the sidewalk and panted.

At least it's warm tonight.

I paused and frowned. It wasn't like me to look for the silver lining.

Maybe I'm getting soft the closer I get to dying, I scoffed.

My lungs had almost settled down by the time I heard footsteps and a girl's voice talking nearby.

Keep walking, honey, I wanted to tell her, but I needed all my energy to stay conscious.

"Hello," she said. "I called 911. If you can tell me what's wrong, I may be able to help until someone comes."

Yeah, that voice is too sweet to belong in my world. This ain't gonna end well.

"Are you all right?" she tried again when I didn't answer.

"Get away from me."

Although I kept my voice low, the demon still woke up. Swearing under my breath, I fought it like I did every single day of my life.

I didn't win too often anymore. My strength was stretched like a rotted rubber band, my body ruined, and, if it wanted out, there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I still fought it.

Sweat tracked down my face and through the patchy beard I'd stopped shaving weeks ago. Yeah, once my hands had started shaking so badly, I figured I was more likely to slit my throat than scrape off whiskers. I hadn't held a razor since.

Well, not for shaving, anyway.

Something touched the center of my chest and my eyelids flew up.

A girl about my age crouched next to me, her small hand pressing right over my heart. The street light set her red hair ablaze and her green eyes shone with kindness.

Was she ... an angel?

A quiet snort slipped out.

Who am I kidding? Ain't no angel anywhere that cares about me.

"I said, get away from me!" I raised my head to growl at her. "Run!"

"Shh. It'll be okay."

I grabbed her wrist, and my fingers found a metal band packed with power. I glanced at it and groaned. Of course I recognized it. I'd had one just like it a long time ago.

Can this night get any worse?

Surprising myself, I saw another silver lining: She wasn't a warrior. Any warrior worth the name woulda sensed the evil inside me from a hundred feet out and tried to end me. More than one had over the years. Good thing I wasn't easy to kill.