Ghosts of the Future

Damned

Flames lick all around me. They devour the floor with their gold-red-orange tongues, then burst into stars when they finish their meal.

I'm by my brother's bed, watching him as he suffocates on the thick black smoke swirling overhead. His eyes watch me, their depths endless now, their surface glassy and blank. I stifle a sob, and turn away.

Fairen's room is next. She screams at me, calls me a demon. Then, her eyes roll back into her head, and she passes out. I watch as her ghostly blue-white soul rises from her body, but then turn away before I can see her face.

I watch my parents die in the same way as my brother and sister. The smoke kills them, fills their lungs with poison. The heat of the flames burns their skin, turning it black. And I do nothing.

I'm out of the house, though not completely alone. Around me swirls red-black demons with glowing scarlet wolf eyes and sharp needle teeth. They protected me from the flames and smoke, using their hellish powers to keep the dangers away. I have no idea why. At least, not until their master speaks into my mind.

Remember this night, Saira Collings. It will be the end of your happiness. I have made sure of it.

I saw him, the honey-voiced man with goat hooves and horns. I saw his lips move, heard his voice echo in my ears, felt his power ripple over me like fire. But no one else did. And it was then that my heart broke, shattered into tiny shards of glass. 

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I come out of the memory with bleary eyes. Tears trail down my cheeks and splash onto my knees, which are pulled up to my chest. I'm still sitting on the floor of the Northwoods House, and dust glows in the moonlight shining through the shattered window.

Reality and movement come to me slowly. I try to wiggle my fingers and toes first. After a few paralyzing moments, I feel them move. Then, I try to stretch out my arms and legs. Like my other appendages, they're slow to move at first, but then they kick into gear.

That was the first time in a long time that I've cried without hurting myself. As I think this, I look down at my scarred arms. Since I'm alone, I roll up my sleeves, revealing all the tally marks of blades and glass and nails. The deepest scar runs along my right wrist, where I plunged my thumbnail into my skin when I was fourteen. It was just after my family died.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I get to my feet. I look around at the floating dust particles, thinking slow thoughts. A plan is forming in my mind, something my subconsciousness came up with while the rest of me was caught up in the memory.

A slow, demonic smile spreads across my face. My cheek muscles hurt, and I can tell that my eyes are glowing an evil red. I look around, and see shades and shadows take on life.

The demons crowd around me, answering my call. There are so many of them. So many damned souls sent to Hell for torture. They answer me, their living queen. They answer their master's chosen's call.

Alright, dämonen, I think at them, using the German word for demons, I need your help to bring down someone. A murderer. Will you lend your abilities to me?

The demons all hiss like serpents, which is their form of laughter. The biggest one bows his wolfish head, and makes sounds like flames and snakes; it's the language of Flame Talk, the language spoken by beings of fire as well as snakes. That's why snakes are representatives of Satan.

We will follow you, Saira Collings. Our fire and claws are at your disposal. I nod, sickness curling in my stomach. Demon claws had carved twenty-five scars into my back. They have caused more blood to flow from my body than my own knives and shattered glass pieces.

I smile, though, letting my eyes pulse an even more evil and brighter red. Good, I think at them. Then, I tell them my plan. The demons seem shocked at my cunning and ferocity, and the level of freedom I'm giving them. One of them steps forward and asks, You will allow us to torture the boy? Cut him, enter his mind, give him nightmares? You will allow us to do this?

I nod, and think at him, Yes, I will. But you are not allowed to kill him. That honor belongs to someone else. The demons all nod and hiss their snaky laughter. I can tell that I have them--bait, hook, and sinker.

With a smile on my face, I leave the haunted house. The demons will stay there, sending out their powers to harass Max. And I will go home, and rest up for tomorrow, which is sure to be an exciting day.