Envy, p.4
Envy, page 4
I felt that familiar pang in my chest as the memories of that dark time in my life came flooding back to me. The endless hospital visits, the way my parents looked at me with grief, like I was already dead. My mother’s family was from Trinidad and Tobago, and though my father was as Irish as they come, I used to look more like her, with golden skin and silky dark hair. But the leukemia treatments had robbed me of so much, then. I had been incredibly frail, my complexion wan and paling, and my hair gone. I didn’t look like myself anymore. Eventually, it became too much for my parents to watch me slowly wither away, so they stopped visiting altogether.
The day I died, nurses had surrounded me in my room, some cracking jokes to cheer me up, and I would weakly try to smile, wanting to laugh so badly, but didn’t have the air or energy. One nurse I loved, Marsha, held my hand the entire time. Though she had a smile fixed upon her face, her tears fell upon my grey-tinged skin. Her comfort was the last thing I remembered before I closed my eyes one last time and then…
Nothing but blackness.
For the first time in years, I found myself thinking about the sensation I’d felt after I closed my eyes. I couldn’t see anything, and it felt like I was floating, drifting. Where I was heading, I didn’t know. I couldn’t see. It was like I was just… waiting for something. But as time stretched out, I could recall another sensation. An uneasy feeling, like I was terrified of something and wanted nothing more than to get away. It was like… like I was being hunted. I was being watched, and whatever it was, the presence of evil had my frail little soul trembling.
Was I going to Hell? What had I done to end up there?
I thought I’d been a good person. I hardly ever thought bad of anyone, except for a few girls at school who teased me when I lost my hair. I never stole from the local corner store like most kids did as the first act of rebellion, and I was too much of a chicken-shit to lie to my parents about anything. I was just a teenager who spent several years battling a disease while doing my best to enjoy what time I had left. Did I really deserve to be damned for eternity?
The nightmare was building, and though at some point it lessened, like a distance was growing between myself and that dark presence, it didn’t go away completely. I tried to concentrate on the growing sense of warmth, like a beacon that was beckoning me, promising safety, and I could feel it begin to pull me in. I was leaving the hunter behind, but I knew he was still close, still watching. I didn’t feel safe. I felt… pursued. Whatever was stalking me, radiated pain, anger, voracity, and… intense yearning. It scared the shit out of me.
Next thing I knew, I was awake in my hospital bed. Nurses and doctors had circled around me, some bent over my body, in the process of removing syringes, tubes, and other life-sustaining devices. They stared at me in absolute shock when they realized I was awake, apparently not expecting me to open my eyes again.
“Surprise…” I whispered, the smallest of smiles curling up on my cracked lips.
It’s funny, thinking about it now. Before, when I would go to bed, my mind whirled about my near-death experience, it was more that I was consumed with the thoughts of never waking again, of going to sleep and that being it. I’d pushed the memory of that creeping, haunting feeling out of my brain for good. But now, out of seemingly nowhere, it was back in full force, and I had no idea why. It made me curl up into a tight little ball beneath my comforter as I hugged one of my pillows tight to my chest. The memory of it was chilling, but that’s all it was… a memory from long ago.
But then, I felt it.
For the first time in my life, I felt every single hair on my body rise, and a shiver raced through my very bones as a sinking feeling in my gut suddenly alerted my senses that I was not alone. It felt like it was here now, watching me. As if I’d somehow summoned it by simply thinking about it again. How was that possible? Was I just feeling this way because it was the first time I remembered it since it happened? Maybe that was it. That was all. Just my body reliving that horrifying sensation of evil stalking me through the darkness.
Although no matter how I tried to reassure myself, I was frozen where I lay on my side, the covers pulled up to my chin, and I wanted nothing more than to cower beneath them like a little kid afraid of the boogeyman. Keeping my eyes closed, listening to the sound of rain battering against my barred window, I repeated a mantra over and over in my head, It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real...
Feeling my strength return, I counted silently to three, then slowly opened my eyes, studying the small space around me, but the shadows swallowed everything. A small voice in my head was screaming a warning as the sensation of something nearby only became stronger. I’d locked my door, and my window was always locked, the bars adding further protection. I knew no one else was here. There was nowhere to hide.
And yet…
I shivered and retreated beneath my blankets, squeezing my eyes shut, praying that this ominous, unsettling feeling would disappear. I slowly inhaled a long, shaking breath through my teeth and counted to ten, holding it in before releasing it in a low hiss. In the distance, I could hear the rumble of thunder. Poor New York was just getting absolutely shit on by mother nature right now.
I waited for this unsettling sensation to vanish so that I could get some rest, but it didn’t. The pull got stronger as time went on, like whatever that darkness was, was closing in on me, calling me out. Summoning whatever ounce of bravery I had left in me, I peered out from beneath the blankets. Despite my eyes being wide open, I could see nothing but shadows and no hint of movement. I was losing my mind, I told myself. I needed sleep. That was all. I was about to lie back down when another flash of light illuminated the space, and to my horror, in the corner adjacent to the window, a huge, and I mean HUGE, shadowy figure was lurking there. It literally took up the entire space from floor to ceiling, and it wasn’t… solid. Though it seemed wispy, black, and semi-transparent, I could still see that it was bulky, like a giant, and what looked like horns arching up to the ceiling, while two wide wing-shaped hazes stretched to the side, blocking my kitchenette from view.
I screamed, leaping up from my bed, and threw myself at my desk, feeling around for my bat, something I kept as a weapon of sorts for this very moment. Somehow someone, something, had broken into my place, and I was going to fight.
I spun around to face them, bat raised in the air, but to my shock, I was alone. I reached over to the old Victorian lamp at my bedside and yanked the chain down. The room was cast in its warm glow. Outside, the rain pattered against the glass of the window, the room was the same as it was when I’d been working on my projects. But there was nothing.
So what was that shadow? Was my mind playing tricks on me?
Shaking my head to clear it, I hurried over to the closet that was my washroom and quickly checked it, but it was empty, too. I moved swiftly around the space, checking the locks on the door and the window again, looking under the fold-out bed, yet I was alone. I tried to reassure myself that it had just been in my head. I was tired, overworked from studying all day, and then busy crafting for most of the night. I needed sleep. That was all.
I crawled back into bed but brought the bat with me, feeling safer as I clutched it tight to my chest, pausing before turning off the light. The feeling was gone. Like it had never happened in the first place. I was alone.
I fell asleep convincing myself that my mind was simply playing tricks on me. It was all in my head. A lousy memory had come to life as I’d reflected on my near-death experience. That was all.
That was all…
I listened patiently as I sat upon my throne in my palace while my second, a typai demon named Gnaarl, pleaded his case. At his feet, a tiny figure trembled violently, her almost black hair hiding her face, her body curled up on the floor at his raptorial feet.
“... look at her!” Gnaarl was saying, speaking to me in his species dialect, “She is so… cute!”
I arched a brow at him, completely and utterly confused. Gnaarl, as my Second, was a frightening, intimidating demon who rightly earned his place at my side. He was taller than me unless I shifted into my full demon form. His head morphed into two long, uneven horns that arched straight up into the air, his skin a greyish colour with black, onyx armour that looked like it was made of tree bark. He was armed with long, black claws on each of his digits, as well as a long sickle-shaped one on his large toe, and his entire body was made of muscle. When he spoke in his Mother tongue, it only made him more formidable, as the words were incredibly guttural, laced with growls and snapping from his overlong top incisors.
It was almost comical to hear him talking of this human girl with such affection, especially when I knew she likely assumed he was plotting her demise. The strangest thing about all of this was to hear him call a human ‘cute’ of all things. This was my lieutenant, one who liked to oversee the punishments that I don’t personally dish out to sinners. He consistently reported back with glee that my instructions were being adequately carried out. Now, he was cooing at this miscreant like she was one of those creatures humans like to keep for pets.
“See how she shivers?” He gestured down at her. “She is cold! I can keep her warm. I have many pelts in my quarters that I think she would like.”
“Gnaarl,” I sighed, leaning my head into the palm of my hand, my elbow resting on the arm of my throne. I spoke to him in his dialect, deciding it was best to keep the girl in the dark for now. “You cannot be serious about this-”
“Hear me out, My Lord,” he quickly cut me off but bowed his head apologetically when my fierce, green eyes narrowed at him for the interruption. “Look at what she does when I wiggle my claws at her.” He leaned down from his great height, stooping over the figure, waggling his long, two-inch claws before the girl’s face. She cried out and scuttled back, her shaking intensifying, and he laughed, “See what she did?”
I stared at him, struggling to understand what he was so excited about. “What?”
“She makes the sweetest little sound!” He was practically puffing up his chest, as if proud of her for almost shattering my eardrums with her shrieking.
“Bloody hell, take her outside before she defecates and makes a mess on my floors!”
“I’ll clean up after her, I promise. Please, just… there’s something about this one. She needs me. I’ll make sure she is no trouble to you or anyone else.” When I remained silent, Gnaarl shocked me by placing his palms together, as if in prayer! “Please, My Lord. Let me keep Kys.”
“Kys?” I glanced down at the girl, who has since curled up into another tight little ball, sobbing softly to herself.
“Yes, that is her name.”
“You named it?” I growled at him. “Never name them! It forms an attachment! Have you learned nothing from the others? We have too many cambion demons running around Hell as it is!”
“She told me her name. I think it’s beautiful. It suits her, yes?”
My green gaze flicked to her again, and I curled my lip. The human peeked up at me for the first time, and seeing my more humanoid features, a flash of hope crossed her face, and she spoke up, “Please… I-I don’t know how I got here.” Her voice cracked as she tried to wipe her tears away. “I w-was just picking up some groceries, and m-my car swerved. I…” she furrowed her brow in confusion, “I don’t understand what exactly happened after...”
“What is she saying?” Gnaarl demanded passionately.
I ignored the girl and continued to speak to him in his demon-tongue, “She is telling me that she is unsure of how she got here.”
“Your waywraith’s found her on Earth. She had been injured from one of those steel automotive devices they use to travel around in… kaw-rrs. The scent of her blood lulled them in, and they decided to bring her back here as a treat when I happened upon them.”
It was not uncommon for demons to visit Earth or for them to take someone on the verge of death. My waywraiths served me. They were small creatures, about two or three feet high, with heads that were not unlike the anglerfish you see in the deep oceans of the human world. They had round little bellies that protruded and four crustacean-like legs, their skin a myriad of oranges, browns, and creams. They cared for my palace, prepared my meals, cleaned, did whatever I demanded. They were simple creatures and only wanted a safe place to dwell and food to eat. They lived in a dark, stone cave beneath the earth of my home, a spot that suited them perfectly. They often scavenged upon the remains of a human I’d obliterated from existence. Sometimes, the cheeky little things would go to purgatory, searching for a lost soul, or to earth in hopes of snagging a snack. A girl, bleeding on the road from an accident, reeking of death would send them into a frenzy of excitement. She was lucky Gnaarl seemed so taken with her. He had just saved her from being ripped to shreds.
In fact, Gnaarl had now gotten onto all fours and was crawling towards the human, obviously hoping to look not as frightening at eye-level, as he gently talked to her. Unfortunately for… Kys (I highly doubted that was her actual name, and more like a failed attempt to pronounce it with his overextended fangs), Gnaarl looked like he was stalking towards her as if he was about to attack. The girl screamed so shrill, I thought my eardrums would burst. She scuttled back again until she hit one of the pillars, but he was right on top of her. Before she could put up any semblance of a fight, he had scooped her up again and was nuzzling her neck, making an odd sort of purring sound from deep in his chest, a sound I’d never heard him make before.
Blast it… there was no way I could take her from him now.
“Fine, keep it. But I swear if it soils itself on my floors-”
“I’ll clean it, I swear to you. She won’t get underfoot or anything!” he said excitedly, cradling her close. Gnaarl wasn’t the first demon to fall for a human, and most likely, he wouldn’t be the last. Though it was frowned upon, as far as Lucifer was concerned, the demons simply used them as playthings, fucktoys… objects for entertainment, and used to vent their frustrations out on.
Although looking at my Second now, I knew that this human wasn’t going to be abused in the way Lucifer would expect. I could see it on his face. Gnaarl, as terrifying and demonic as he may be, would care for her. He blinked down with his pure black, glassy eyes and grinned wide, showing off his horrifying fangs. I refrained from laughing at the sight of absolute horror on her face as she craned her neck back, tilting her head as far from him as she could before looking back at me.
“Please! Please, help me-”
“Silence, Kys!” I didn’t even bother looking at her. She was nothing as far as I was concerned. “You may only speak when your new owner permits it.”
“Owner? Kys…” Her voice trailed off for a moment, as though she was lost in thought, before it finally clicked in and she burst out, “Firstly, this guy is not my owner! I’m not a housecat! And second, my name is Alexis! Not Kys!”
“Kyssss…” Gnaarl crooned, nuzzling the back of her neck.
“Stop calling me that!” she snapped at him and swung. The moment her hand struck the side of his head, I grinned, eager for entertainment. This whole thing had been dull, really. But now, she had sealed her fate by striking him. I’ve seen Gnaarl tear limbs off of men as if they were a housefly's wings for simply speaking to him.
But instead, he roared with laughter, tossing his head back, and said jubilantly, “She is a fighter! I like that! But I’ll need to train you, my Kys… Come, let me bring you to my quarters, your new home… Hoooome,” he said slowly, the word odd and guttural on his tongue.
“What the hell are you even saying?!” she cried, kicking her legs as he turned to leave.
“That’s right. Home! Good girl!” He peered gleefully over his shoulder at me, “She’s a quick learner!” and disappeared out the double doors, leaving me alone.
I ran my hand over my face, my frustrations mounting it seemed with every passing day. It felt like there was some sort of a disease spreading through Hell, and one by one, demons were succumbing to it. I’d been calling it the Mortal Stroke. I stood by, watching in revulsion as demons latched onto a particular mortal, and noticed the shift in their behaviours. The fact that we had cambion demons running around, half-human/half-demon beings, was proof enough that they’d basically thrown Lucifer’s rule about fornicating with them, straight into the fires of the Phlegethon.
You came so close once, Leviathan… a small voice whispered at the back of my mind. Sneering, I shook it off and stomped between two pillars that led out onto my open balcony that overlooked my kingdom.
I observed the misty plain, the haunting light from my Seekers casting ghostly luminosities through the fog. I found myself lost in thought, remembering the little soul that had caught my attention so long ago. When she vanished, I’ll admit I went a little mad for a time. I actually went to the mortal realm, searching Earth for her, not telling anyone my whereabouts as I travelled to the places I figured a human such as her would dwell, but it was fruitless. If she did invoke envy, it was not enough to pull me to her, like it did other humans. After I gave up my hunt, I scolded myself for even bothering.
Why did I?
I couldn't answer. But seeing Gnaarl with his new pet, I felt that familiar sense of bitter jealousy. He looked so… happy to have her. I’ve never seen him react so strongly to anything before. I certainly never have. It was a side effect of the Mortal Stroke—odd behaviour like giddiness, signs of euphoria, acts of kindness… all towards their human companion.
But the demons affected didn’t look like they were suffering. They appeared… content.
So why wasn’t I content?
I was briefly tempted to force Gnaarl to kill her rather than keep her; my resentment stung me deeply. But he had not wronged me, and after I buried my ever-present pettiness, I had relented, deciding to instead use this as an experiment. I knew my Second better than my own brothers and sister of Hell. I was curious to see how this would affect him long-term.
