Chapter 11 Arwyn #2
I was ready to do anything to the scarred one in particular, because his brashness irked me.
As he leaned in close enough for me to do something, he brought his stank mouth to my ear and whispered a world-shattering secret into my ear.
“Shame we’ll be too late to see the first burnings.
Especially since there’s already a pyre waiting for that little witch you’ve shown a liking to.
Hector… isn’t it? The Briars’ boy. I was in that room with you when you stabbed his parents to death…
shame you’ve lost your way since then. Come to think of it, if you’re quiet and still, you may even hear his screams all the way from—”
I jolted my head up, mouth widening until the corners of my dried lips ripped.
Then I sunk my teeth into the side of his neck, ripping through tough skin and fat.
His scream of surprise was a symphony to my soul.
Hot blood rushed into my mouth and filled my cheeks.
So much that I didn’t stop until the gore stained my throat.
I had no choice but to swallow it, drinking it down as I continued to give this man another scar.
“Argh,” he choked on his dread.
I was vaguely aware that the syringe was dropped, followed by the smash of glass beneath the boots of the two remaining Witch Hunters who came to restrain me. But my teeth were so jammed into this man’s neck that if they pulled him back, it would rip a good chunk of it out.
Locked jaw, there was no getting me off him. His futile attempts to bash fists into me went from hard, to soft and pathetic.
Perhaps it was the man’s pain that continued to rouse Bahmet from his forced slumber, but somehow, I thought it was the blood that did it. When actually it was what was in the blood—a hefty amount of alcohol—which finally brought Bahmet back.
Demon in my body or not, I needed to breathe. I couldn’t continue my attack. My blood-slick teeth withdrew, and the man stumbled back, skin pale and trembling hand clutching at his neck. Blood pumped through his plump fingers, spilling down his leathers.
His voice went up in pitch, eyes wide as he slumped down the side of the van’s wall. “You just… bit me!”
Smiling a bloodied smile, I replied. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The remaining Witch Hunters were shouting, and I felt the ambulance skid to a halt. Guns were drawn, safety mechanisms clicking off, and I knew, Father Tomin’s orders or not, if they felt like I was a threat, they’d kill me.
Besides Hector in my arms, I’d never wanted something so much.
“Do it,” I snapped, flesh and blood spilling out of my mouth, smearing across my chin. “Shoot me.”
Bahmet came alive, urged by the realisation that if they did shoot me, he would be forced out of my body and back into his void for the witches to lay claim to once more.
Like lightning, dark magic flooded by body. All discomforts faded until all I felt was pure, undiluted strength.
The straps across my arms and legs broke apart like dust, my spine suddenly rigid as I sat up.
A bang filled the cramped space of the ambulance, telling me that bullets had been fired.
But nothing hit me, not one reached its mark.
Dark specks of metal hung in mid-air, fizzing like flies.
The younger of the two remaining Witch Hunters fired more, over and over, adding more of the suspended bullets between us as he screamed wildly.
I waited—Bahmet waited—until the chamber was empty. Then we all watched as each suspended bullet turned around, as if moved by an unseen hand.
“Please, Arwyn,” the young man said, tears and snot falling down his face. “Don’t do this to me.”
The bullets shot forwards, cast in the direction they came. Dull thuds sounded one after the other as they filled the chests of the Witch Hunters.
Blood misted the air, and death came swiftly.
Shame he’d pleaded to the wrong person. Bahmet was doing this. As more dark power spilled out, there was nothing I could do to stop it. Not that I wanted to either.
For once our desires were aligned, and that felt euphoric.
I was standing, limbs like stone, when the double doors to the back of the ambulance were thrown open. I was greeted by more Witch Hunters, each looking into the ambulance and the destruction and blood that decorated it. But amongst them was my aunt.
For a moment I thought she was someone else, although I couldn’t place it.
“Guns. Down. Now,” she commanded, brow soft and face placid. Her eyes were fixed to me, her silent pleading so powerful I felt it without the need for more spoken words. When no one listened, she said it again, louder that time. “All of you. Put your guns down!”
They finally listened, although their hesitance was louder than the three Hunters I’d just destroyed.
Bright sunlight cast in from behind them.
As I focused beyond the wall of Hunters, I saw a main road full of gridlocked traffic.
Innocent people sat watching from their cars, forced to stop on a motorway due to the shock of what was unfolding before them.
Closest to us, I saw a minivan with a man and a woman sitting at the front, but behind them was the small face of a child peering out.
“Control it, Arwyn,” my aunt said, and that was when I felt the tendrils of fingers attempting to spoil through my skull and claim my mind. “The world is watching. Be careful what you do next.”
Bahmet cared little for life that wasn’t his own.
The definition of innocent to a demon was not written in ink, but as flowing as a wild river.
And yet, there was a pause. But it wasn’t the demon who restrained the death he could release, but me.
I was doing it. My eyes continuing to look at that child in the car, her parents wondering if this would be their final moments or not.
“It’s over,” I said, fixing my stare back to my aunt.
She shook her head. “It’s only just begun, Arwyn. You know that.”
Was that sadness I saw in her expression? I couldn’t be sure because my magic was already unspooling.
Shadows gathered around me, spilling from every possible place of darkness. They rose at my ankles, ready to devour me and snatch me into them. It was as if my aunt knew what I was doing to do, because she jolted towards the doors, hand raised whilst screaming, “Wait!”
But it was too late.
In her last moment of panic, her pleading fell away to fury and vicious content as she commanded the Witch Hunters to lift their guns and shoot.
Although, their bullets didn’t meet their mark; if anything they continued to fill the already cold bodies of the Witch Hunters Bahmet had killed to save us.
I was in the void—drowning in shadows. For the most part, my will was still my own, and yet my body wasn’t. Bahmet was in control for the majority, but there was a part of me left to claim, as if it fit the missing part in Bahmet’s form.
“This is not how it should be,” the darkness spat at me, filling my head and the dark shadows around me with pleading. I sensed the presence speaking with me, in me, around me. “I should have your soul completely, and yet you still resist.”
Everything was passing so quickly. Beneath the wild rush of time I sensed Bahmet’s disappointment.
The demon was furious, the taste sour and rotten in my mouth.
Not at me as I first thought. The demon was furious with himself. His failure to successfully gain full control over me, not like he had with all the victims of his possessions before.
“You must submit to me,” Bahmet demanded, trying to swell beneath my skin until he could fill me entirely.
“It would be easier for us both if you do. Give yourself to me, and we will save the man who occupies your heart. Only I have the power to give you want you want as I have given hundreds of witches before you the same. Heed me, Arwyn Hopkin.”
Hector. At Bahmet’s alluding to him, I gained some purchase with the darkness. As if he was enough to wake me, or fuel me in my need to save him.
There was disgust from Bahmet that was impossible to ignore.
Just like I could taste the Witch Hunters’ fear when I woke, I sensed the same from Bahmet.
But it was different. As if Hector was his greatest hate, and his greatest concern.
Either way, I fought for that purchase in the power, sunk my iron-clad fingers into it and gave my own demand to Bahmet.
“We are going to save him. You and I,” I spat, focusing on the desire to reach him before my father set the pyre aflame. My mind went out to Hector as if it could reach him, calling upon the part of Bahmet that he had within him, wondering how deep that connection went.
“Save him? It is us who should be saved. Hector is the one who can destroy us.”
Bahmet had just confirmed the one theory I had birthed from his reactions to Hector.
“You. Destroy you. Not me,” I replied, smiling to myself even though I didn’t have a physical form in such a strange place. I shifted my intentions to Hector, hoping he heard me and knowing Bahmet did because he wailed and clawed against my intentions.
“Enough.”
I silenced Bahmet with the truest words I’d ever spoken. “I’m coming for you, Hector.”