Samantha moon phantasm, p.127
Samantha Moon Phantasm, page 127
part #9 of Vampire for Hire Series
Two halves of a thin, brass crown fell away, sputtering magical energy from the cut points. The broken artifact released a blast of energy that launched Kingsley away and sent him sliding. A loud whinnying roar came from the right along with a loud crack. I shot a brief glance at the Fire Warrior twisting the horse’s head around in a way no spine was ever meant to bend. I don’t know what horrified me more: seeing a creature that resembled a horse being twisted like that, or that my son did it.
I turned my attention once more to the Red Rider, who stood in a swooning posture, his head still split in half straight down the middle. Full of sorrow and anger for all the evil he perpetrated, I raised the Devil Killer and wanted more than anything for his evil to end and all the magic he stole from all those innocents to go back where it belonged.
Roaring, I hurled my strength into a sideways slash that cut clean through his neck, then spun with the attack and stabbed the sword to the hilt in his chest. I ripped it clear and hacked down again, almost cutting him from neck to crotch.
“You are such a dork.” Tammy sighed.
“What?” I asked.
“Anthony’s thinking ‘Samantha Moon wins… triple combo.”
The Fire Warrior grinned.
“I don’t get it,” I muttered.
“Mortal Kombat, Mom.” Tammy sighed. “It’s a video game.”
Meanwhile, a swarm of white-robed girls streamed into the room, the patter of bare feet on stone floor almost deafening. Gone were their emotionless expressions, replaced with natural smiles and gasps of “where am I” or “what happened?” as well as dozens of remarks in not-English. An incredible sense of relief and joy emanated from them. I even caught sight of one who looked like Daisy.
Oh my God; she was so damn young.
I couldn’t help but snarl, and stabbed the Devil Killer into the Red Rider’s heart once more.
The body finally flopped to the side, glowed orange, and exploded in a wave of brilliant white-yellow light.
Yeah. I should’ve seen that coming.
I barely had time to think ‘this is going to hurt’ before the energy blast tossed me flying backward into a white void.
Screaming...
Chapter Twenty
I can’t say I’ve often wondered what it would feel like to be a victim of the electric chair.
Though, I think I have a relatively decent idea now. Along with a physical impact of a speeding city bus running into me, the most bizarre energy I’ve ever experienced rippled through me, like being microwaved, electrocuted, and exposed to the sun all at once… along with an overdose of cocaine.
A seeming eternity later, the overwhelming charge faded enough for me to perceive upward flight. And not just flight... but a rocket launch. Gradually, I slowed from squirrel that stepped on a land mine speed to jet plane to peregrine falcon to thrown baseball. When I collected myself enough to control a hover, I realized the explosion that launched me had been so powerful it not only blasted me straight out of my clothes, it replaced them with a white robe like the ones those girls had been wearing.
As far as I could see in every direction lay clouds—that is, as the floor beneath me. Bright sunlight bathed me from above, though rather than dread fear, it brought a powerful sense of love and safety. So strong was the radiance that even when I realized I must have met my final death from whatever force the Red Rider exploded with, and I would never see my children again, I didn’t even feel like crying. As much as I knew I should be devastated—not to mention worried that they, too, may have been killed—I lacked the ability to feel anything but contentment.
“Sam,” said a familiar voice.
I turned.
J.C.—my once-father, not the other J.C.—stepped out of a bank of mist. Though he appeared quite elderly, and even a bit on the frail side, he walked with strength unbefitting his age. He, too, wore a similar white robe and approached me with open arms.
“Am I… dead?”
My once-father embraced me with the fervor of a parent who hadn’t seen their child in centuries. “Yes, Samantha.”
I closed my eyes and cringed, silently saying farewell to Tammy, Anthony, Allison, and Kingsley.
“But not in the way you think,” said Jeffcock.
“Er, what?” I pulled back.
He smiled a paternal, loving smile that chased away much of my anxiety. “You’re a vampire, Sam. You’re already dead.”
“But didn’t I blow myself apart when I killed the Red Rider?”
J.C. shook his head. “No… but most of the magic he stole did pass through you on its way back to the third dimension. It hurtled you up through the frequencies.”
“Like a squirrel on a land mine.”
He grinned. “Perhaps you had some help there.”
“Wait. Rand killed you. How can you be here? Are you the Van Gogh version?”
“I am me, Sam. And yes, the hunter destroyed me. I am to return to the Origin, but have been allowed to wait here to see you one final time. When we part, I shall be reabsorbed into creation.” He embraced me. “It is so, so good to be able to hold you again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“I mean, for… I dunno. I’m sorry you never tried talking to me, or if I did anything that kept you away.”
“None of what happened to me is in any way your fault. I made my choices and kept my distance. The only error was underestimating Rand. I asked you not to pick up my mantle and pursue the Rider.” He winked. “But I am glad you did. I can return to creation with no regrets but that I was not allowed to live a full life with my daughter beside me.”
“Too young.” I looked down. “I’m going to randomly think about her and get all sad and maudlin for years.”
“Don’t.” Jeffcock wiped my cheek as if I were crying, though I couldn’t weep here. “My daughter has been reincarnated into you, and when your time does eventually come, you shall also return to the Origin. In some way, I know we will be reunited again.”
No matter how sad I became, I felt like a child cradled in their parents’ lap, assured everything would be okay… a child young enough to believe their parent could fix any problem in the world merely by wanting to.
“Easier said than accepted.” I squeezed my fingers into his shoulders, not wanting to let go, despite knowing the pervasive sense of security didn’t come from him. “Are we…”
“On the 99th dimension. I’m waiting at the Origin’s doorstep, so to speak. I have only one place left to go now.”
I bowed my head.
“Sam, listen to me.” J.C. lifted my chin with a gentle finger, making me look him in the eye. “You are about to experience a tremendous change. You are a force of creation, too.”
“I think I’m more a force of destruction.”
He chuckled. “No, Sam. You are a creator—of sorts.”
“Of sorts? I’m about as creative as a rock. I never even liked coloring books as a kid. The most creative thing I ever did was come up with ways to break into the farm down the road to grab stuff, or steal food from the supermarket without getting caught… until I got too old to get away with that stuff. It’s not ‘cute’ to steal food after like twelve.”
“You are a force of creation, but no Van Gogh, true. Not like Charlie Reid who created the world of Dur. No, you don’t invent new worlds or shape alternate realities. But you do alter the fabric of your world, the third dimension. Only… slowly.”
“I really think you’re being given some bad information. If I could shape reality, so many things would be so different.”
J.C. grasped my hand in both of his. “You do shape your reality, but it is quite gradual. That which you truly want, the Universe will accommodate. I’m not entirely sure when this happened, though I suspect it is a result of a confluence of certain unique characteristics. Your alchemical bloodline, the hereditary witchcraft, the power you have obtained becoming an immortal, even your death at the hands of the Red Rider five centuries ago. Somewhere amid all of that coming to exist in the same individual, it caused a once-in-a-millennia circumstance. Perhaps this is how you were able to defeat the Red Rider.”
“Speaking of…” I glanced off at the clouds, then up at the endless perfect blue sky. Traces of orange and amber shimmered at the horizon, an unearthly light more beautiful than anything my wildest imagination could’ve conjured up. “What happened to all those girls?”
“The beings you saw there were not souls, mere shadows of the energy he stole. That energy has returned to the third dimension.” J.C. brushed a hand at my cheek. “I didn’t ask you to take up my quest, but I am without words to express how grateful I am that you have put that monster to rest.” He paused. “I have missed you so much, little one.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Just a small, choking gasp.
He smiled and held out his arms, and I found myself veritably throwing myself into them. As I did, he pulled me into a tight embrace and never had I felt such love... and I doubted I would ever feel such love again... from anyone, ever. I hugged him back with all my heart, not entirely sure if I should consider him my father, my sire, both, or something different. After a moment, I realized I no longer held on to another person’s body. When I opened my eyes, J.C. had vanished, save for a fleeting white glow racing upward into the sky.
“Goodbye…” I whispered.
I kept staring at the distancing smear of light until it faded away.
The magnitude of gazing up at the hundredth dimension—the Origin—hit me. Part of me wondered if I should bow my head, kneel, or show some sort of reverence. Another part grew curious and wondered if my wings could carry me up one more dimension.
Strong benevolence fell upon me from the sky, along with a sense that a tremendously powerful force knew I tried to see it. For no reason I could explain, the idea that it was not my time to go there washed over me. I’d been brought to the 99th for a last farewell with a man who loved me across centuries and lifetimes. The Origin, vast as it was, had noticed the last wish of one seemingly insignificant person, and granted it. He, she, or it had allowed us to have that moment. It had spoken to me without words. Humbled, I bowed my head, too aware that I needed to return home.
“I understand.”
As if a trapdoor under my feet swung open, I plummeted straight down, though I didn’t scream… or even feel a sense of alarm.
Chapter Twenty-One
Placid white light surrounded me for only a few seconds before fading.
The sense of falling gave way to standing on solid ground with no transition, no impact, not even a feeling of slowing. I found myself in the courtyard of the Red Rider’s sixth-dimensional castle, surrounded by hundreds of empty white robes. My clothing had returned to normal, which made me wonder if I had only ascended in spirit... like an astral projection.
I looked around, calling out for Tammy, Anthony, Kingsley, or Allison, but none of them replied to my voice echoing into the halls of this abandoned place. As I took a step toward the door, wondering if they perhaps remained in the cathedral chamber, waiting for me, a tremendous searing pain lanced through my heart.
Sweet mama. It hurt so damn bad I nearly blacked out.
Clutching my chest, I fell to my knees, paralyzed.
The horrible pain faded after an agonizing moment, shifting down into my stomach and manifesting as nausea. It had been years since I felt sick like that, worse than even my first few days as a vampire trying to eat solid food. A convulsion shook my body. Once, again, and a third time hard enough to knock me flat on my front.
I retched, and a torrent of foul, black ichor blasted out of my mouth, streaming from my nostrils as well. The flow of liquid gushing up my throat gathered solidity, becoming a gummy mass as big as my forearm. Puking became gagging. I no longer vomited, rather twitched there helpless on the ground as something crawled out of me.
My face against the cold stone floor, I stared across the black puddle at the front end of the serpentine mass. It sprouted arms, dragging itself forward. A head formed, the arms thickening to human proportion. Still, I retched. Hell, my jaw threatened to crack from the girth of the fleshy slug creeping inch by inch out from inside me.
Another flash of blinding pain hit me in the face and jaw. If not for being a vampire, I probably would have fainted. So much for my ability to alter reality. If I wanted anything in that moment, it would’ve been unconsciousness—assuming I couldn’t simply make it all stop.
The slug shrank in diameter, and another several feet of horror only as thick as a garden hose pulled out of my throat. It joined the writhing mass on the stones a short distance from me, curling and unwinding. My throat finally clear, I choked on slime, puked bile, and proceeded to cough and gag for a minute or two.
When I looked up again, the thing I’d… given birth to had lightened from jet black to a medium brown, to a pale fleshy color and had taken on the sultry shape of an incredibly beautiful woman. Naked as a newborn babe, she lay curled up in a patch of horrid ebony ooze. Dark hair fanned out on the stone behind her. She shook off the disorientation of her coming to be, and rose to her feet. Despite her nakedness, the woman exuded an air of authority and absolute confidence.
Still fighting the urge to gag, I fought my way up on to my knees so I could stand.
“Hello, Samantha,” said the woman—in Elizabeth’s voice, minus the serpentine hiss. A faint accent, perhaps Egyptian or something of that sort replaced it. “I appreciate that you know you should be kneeling before me.”
I gawked, too stunned to even finish standing out of spite. “What?”
She threw her head back and emitted a haughty laugh, then gestured at one of the white robes. It leapt into the air as if alive and wrapped itself around her. “You performed beyond my expectations, dear girl.”
It finally hit me that I really didn’t want to be kneeling in front of this bitch, so I scrambled to my feet. My stomach felt like I’d been used as a heavy bag by twenty MMA fighters. “How… What’s…” I reached deep inside my head for Elizabeth’s dark presence. It had been so damn long since my mind belonged solely to me, I almost didn’t recognize that she’d gone. Nothing answered my inner thoughts but silence.
“Do not burden yourself with the details, dear. You played your part perfectly. And as a token of my appreciation, I will not destroy you.” She stepped closer, a dark smile parting her full lips. “However, should you act against me in the future, I will not hesitate to put you down.”
“I’m dreaming.” I backed away from her. “You’re not really there. That blast knocked me out and I’m dreaming.”
“You don’t dream, Samantha. Remember?”
I stopped. “So what the hell is this?”
“Reality. The sixth dimension. You ought to be on your way before that poor painter works himself to death keeping you intact.”
I could only stare at her.
“Oh, the confusion on your face is priceless. I should ask him to paint you just like that.” She laughed. “You really believed I wanted you to kill the Devil so the other dark masters and I could escape the void and not fear being chased down?”
“Yeah, that was kind of what I thought.” I glanced at the sword in my hand. “I mean, what else is a girl supposed to do with the Devil Killer but kill the Devil?”
She clucked her tongue at me. “I cannot fault you for believing what I wanted you to believe, dear girl. I created a plan, and you executed it perfectly, not even aware you did exactly as I intended. All the while, you thought you worked against me, contained me…”
“I think you’re full of shit.”
“Your role in all this, Samantha Moon, was never to kill the Devil. You cannot kill something like that, an entity the entire world—or most of it—believes in. The Universe will simply replace it with another to fill the role. From the moment you were born into this life, I set you on a path to fulfill a specific purpose. And you have done so. Did you not think it odd that you suddenly found yourself missing your magic like some child whose puppy had been stolen? Don’t tell me you can’t believe the most powerful telepath ever to set foot on the Earth couldn’t manipulate a mind she inhabited without you noticing the subtle nudges.”
I blinked.
She laughed.
“Okay…” I pointed at her. “If you weren’t trying to free your dark masters from the threat of the Devil, what the hell are you talking about?”
She twirled a lock of black hair around her finger. “All the magic that filthy creature had siphoned up has returned to the world. Magic, Samantha. And that power is mine. The void no longer contains us. We no longer have any need to fear the Devil. He should fear me.”
Oh, this bitch has gone full megalomaniac. “I still think I’m somehow hallucinating or dreaming. I’m containing you, stopping you from wreaking havoc.”
Elizabeth laughed again. “Oh, Samantha. No one uses ‘wreaking havoc’ outside of bad movies. But this is very much real, my dear girl. You had contained me, or so you thought. But a prisoner who is happy in her cell is no prisoner. I was right where I needed to be—influencing you. Jeffcock had it correct. You have acquired some aspects of a creator. That exposure to Dur, the painter, your wonderfully intricate combination of bloodlines. You accepted the ‘burden’ you thought you carried of containing me, but all along you wanted to be free of it.”
“I had no choice. I gave up normality to contain you for the greater good.”
“Ahh yes, but you resented that. You wanted to be free of me. Admit it, Samantha. You wouldn’t have let me out, but you also wished for an escape from the responsibility.”
I stared down, unsure if she tried to trick me again or if that little sliver of doubt gnawing on the back of my mind meant she spoke truth.
“I wanted you to resent me. I wanted you to desire your freedom. That you would acquire the ability to influence reality was something I foresaw before you were even born into this life. You destroyed the Red Rider at long last. You are the only creature capable of doing what you just did… a former witch from an alchemical bloodline, an immortal, with nascent trace of creator ability.”
