Chapter 8 Hector
HECTOR
Ican’t believe he just threw a fucking helicopter at me.
My back buckled beneath the weight of it as my Gift extended up and outwards. I’d never held something so heavy before, and honestly I didn’t think I’d survive it.
I focused on nothing but staying alive for the next seconds as I regained control over the helicopter, wrapping my telekinesis around the metal frame and keeping it hoisted in the air.
The pilot dangled out the door, grappling for purchase so he didn’t fall to his death.
His screams, alongside those of the humans around me, were the soundtrack to my hellish nightmare.
Blades screeched as their tips gouged at the ground. I heard the keening crunch of metal, followed by the gut-churning song of destruction as the helicopter got lower and lower.
If I released it, I’d be crushed. If I cast the helicopter away from me, Hekate knew how many more casualties there would be.
I was fuelled by the desire to save myself, giving as much time as I could for innocent humans to flee, all whilst I watched the person who initially attacked me grinning at his impressive feat.
What was strange about the witch… his eyes did not glow. I determined that it was no witch who harnessed the Gift. In fact, I’d go so far as to wager that it was some warped Witch Hunter, solely from the way he was looking at me with unbridled hate.
It was an expression I’d faced many times.
Unfortunately for me, my Gift was waning.
Time was running out. My knees were forced into the ground, the pressure tearing through my jeans and leaving them a mess of torn flesh.
I could almost feel my spine aching before it broke, giving me a final warning that I couldn’t hold on to the helicopter any longer.
Blood trickled out of my nose, spoiling my lips with its copper taste. My eyes scanned the area around me, only to find a wall of military personnel with weapons drawn and raised in my direction.
To my other side was the crumbling ruins of the White Tower. Bodies scuttled out of the smoke-riddled destruction, coughing and spluttering, but alive.
My options were limited until they were completely taken away from me.
I pinched my eyes closed as the crack of bullets exploded around me.
Distracted, I lost my hold on my Gift. A propeller cut so close to me that I felt the air hiss.
When I opened my eyes again it was to find the Witch Hunter crumpled on the floor with an unprecedented number of bullet holes in his chest.
Wide, hateful eyes stared through me as if seeing my soul.
Something stirred in my gut. I supposed, deep down, I was aware the entire world was watching this moment. But I could not simply cast the helicopter away from me without risking people, and frankly I was not ready to be crushed beneath it either.
I had a task to complete, and I was not going to give up on it now.
Perhaps it was my desire to live, or my need for more power, but I felt a shift of something dark inside of me. Panicked, and more frightened of the potential of Bahmet’s shard lodged inside of me, I attempted to grasp it back in place.
I failed.
Shadows of ink slinked out of my hands, spoiling the air like smoke.
My telekinesis was usually an unseen force, but Bahmet’s power painted the strands of my power like tentacles.
Even the most sceptical person, who looked on at what I was doing and blamed it on something else, wouldn’t be able to deny that I was in control of the helicopter’s movements.
The bands of dark power encased the chunk of metal. I couldn’t explain how I know this would be bad, but it was like two sides of me were warring.
In a last-ditch effort, I pictured the sliver symbol for air in my mind.
I let go of the helicopter, whilst the shard of Bahmet continued holding it in place.
My focus went to the pilot still struggling for his life.
I threw out my birth element, wrapping air around his flailing body before dragging him free.
My action was just in time because the air groaned, the world growing hot and then—as if it was never hanging in the air like a bauble on a tree—the helicopter just disappeared.
Devoured by the shadows spilling from me, it popped out of existence.
The world went entirely silent.
My connection to the old magic faded the moment the pilot touched the safety of the ground. Out the corner of my eye I was aware the military had advanced, covering the pilot with their bodies like a shield.
They didn’t stop moving until they closed in on me.
I slumped on all fours, utterly exhausted. Like the snap of a band, that devious part of Bahmet flooded back into me. All but a single puddle which coated the ground beneath my hunched form.
Confused, I found myself looking into the reflection of black glass.
Even if I wanted to run, wanted to escape from the armed men and women who flooded towards me, pressing guns into my back and shouting orders at me to ‘hit the ground’, I couldn’t. There was no escaping this.
I was almost surprised they’d not shot me yet. Especially when the soft kiss of metal worked into my neck, forcing my head to lift up from the puddle of shadows beneath me.
“No more tricks unless you want a bullet in your head,” a woman shouted.
She looked equally frightened. There was also a sense of regret in her harsh blue eyes. Like she knew what she must do next, regardless if I fought back.
Death had finally come knocking.
“I should’ve dropped the helicopter on myself,” I found myself saying, unable to stop the sarcasm from spilling out of my numb lips. “Save us both the job…”
Of course she didn’t reply with words. In fact, the only response I got was from the click of the gun’s safety being removed as other military personnel shouted around her.
I closed my eyes, aware of a wetness surrounding my knees which spread up my legs. Even my body had come to terms with the end.
I thought of Romy, her smile, and my hope that she found peace in the chaos of all of this.
I thought of my parents. Would they greet me beyond the darkness with open arms, or turn their backs on me in disappointment?
Lastly, Arwyn filled my mind.
Not the Arwyn I had last seen, but the man I met those months ago. His image was the clearest, with his bright eyes, handsome smile, and touch that had a habit of lingering even when he wasn’t close.
I took the memory of him, the illusion that had made me fall in love before breaking my heart. I held it close and—
Someone screamed orders. I thought I heard the word ‘halt’ followed by ‘stand down’.
My eyes opened wide to find the gun drawing back.
Relief was short-lived though as I looked down to find the puddle of shadow no longer, well, a puddle.
The details of the darkness had defined, now showing what looked to be a coiled body of black glass.
Slowly, it unfurled, all without the military personnel noticing.
A scream caught in my throat as I finally made sense of what I was seeing.
In the silence of my thumping head, a new voice filtered in.
For a moment I was hit with the grief of losing Caym—my familiar and friend.
But this voice was different. It was slower, precise in its movements.
Most notable, it was extremely pissed off.
“You have dragged me from my slumber to work? Curse you.”
My neck ached as I snapped it around, searching for the speaker.
“Down here, you foolish mortal.”
There were many things in life I wished I had done differently, and looking down into my lap in that moment was certainly one of them. Because there, uncoiling with scales of obsidian that were so black the light no longer reflected off them, was a snake.
No, it was fucking viper with an arrow-shaped nose, forked tongue and needle-sharp teeth.
Did I mention I fucking hated snakes?
Yup, I really do wish that helicopter had squashed me to pulp.
The viper snapped its jaws. “Do not be so dramatic.”
A gargled scream clogged up my throat, but before I could release it, a familiar wave of darkness overcame me.
A blanket was draped over my body, swallowing me up as if the viper had opened its jaws and devoured me.
But alas, it had not. Because this viper was a demon, somehow brought forwards from my use of Bahmet.
“You are so very welcome for me saving your worthless little life,” it hissed through my skull, sarcasm strong enough to rival my own. “Not that I had a choice. And believe me, I hate your kind too. Disgusting, fleshy humans.”
One moment I knelt on the floor ready to meet my end, and the next I was spat out of the darkness in the middle of my bedroom back in Romy’s apartment. The gaping maw of shadow receded, leaving in its place the little viper whose amber eyes were pinned to me.
“Little?”
Eyes wide and unblinking, I scrambled back on my hands, knocking over my makeshift altar all whilst refusing to look away from the viper. Candles scattered across the floor, one coming to roll against the viper which clearly displeased it. “Get out of my head!”
“Is that the thanks that I get for saving you?” The viper coiled its body into a spring, the tip of its tail making a rattling sound as it shivered. “Doing exactly what you required of me to do.”
“But I didn’t do anything.” The shard of Bahmet had done this.
“And yet, here I am. Dragged away from my life of luxury to serve you. This was not how I saw my existence going, I can assure you. But alas, we are now bound together until I perish, or you die. So, who is doing who the favour first?”
I was one-hundred-percent aware I was arguing with a snake.
“I don’t even know who you are.” It took a lot of effort for me not to pick up the Witch Hunter’s athame that I’d stolen, and use it to cut the demon before me into quarters. But that would mean getting close enough to it, and I really didn’t want that either.
My reaction had little to do with my fear of demons, and everything to do with my ophidiophobia.