Cameron #3
The words are in a different language, so I’m unable to understand the sentences before me. The paper is old and discolored, and the ink has faded slightly. Luckily, someone else has already translated the words, a small piece of paper shoved into the crease of the binding.
Some of the pages we passed had illustrations, but this one doesn’t. It’s just… words.
“Begin, Cameron,” My Atticus tells me gently.
So I do.
“Demon of night, you who dwells in the shadows…” My voice trails off for a moment before I turn my head to stare at him. “Demon? What… what is this?”
Movement overhead can be heard—footsteps and multiple sets of them—and his eyes dart to the ceiling, eyes narrowing momentarily.
“Hurry. No time for this,” he grits out.
And suddenly, My Atticus looks different. Stressed, anxious, even a bit angry. But I’m scared of getting caught too, so I guess I understand him.
“Demon of night, you who dwells in the shadows,” I start again, “meet me here in the valley of the living.”
This… this doesn’t feel very good. The valley of the living? The fuck? But the man beside me is shifting impatiently, his hand rubbing smoothly down my back as if to spur me on.
It works.
“I call your name, with these words my soul I expose; grant my wish for a price befitting.” The room around me is growing hotter, my palms slicking as I speak.
These phrases—or this spell?—sound an awful lot like I’m making a deal with a demon. My Atticus wouldn’t hurt me, not when he wants forever with me, right?
What demon are we dealing with? I’ve never been a very religious guy, but if the man next to me’s presence isn’t proof enough of something bigger than I am, what is?
Will the demon leave us both alone? What will he ask for, and what price are we going to pay?
“Prince of darkness—”
The door to the small room we’re in swings open at the top of the stairs, and My Atticus goes rigid, his fingers digging into the shoulder.
“Hurry,” he hisses.
“Ouch,” I wince, attempting to twist from his hold. “That hurts.”
“Hurry!”
“Atticus?” a small voice calls, and I turn my head to see Atlas, with Julian hot on his heels as they reach the bottom of the stairs. I can see two more sets of footsteps, but the wall that blocks most of the staircase is keeping me from recognizing their owners.
“Cameron,” Julian says, not looking away from the man next to me once. “Step away from it.”
“It?” I question, a cold chill running through me despite the heat of the room.
“That is not Atticus,” he tells me.
“I know… but he’s connected to him. He won’t hurt anyone.” I don’t know why I’m suddenly defending him, but the way in which they’re staring makes me believe they are afraid.
Atlas shakes his head softly, taking a step up on the stairs to lean into Julian. “No, not connected. In control of.”
“Control of?” I sound like a stupid parrot, repeating their words constantly.
“Corculum,” My Atticus hisses. “Finish now. You want forever, sic?”
“No, Cameron,” Julian insists. “Whatever it’s promised you, it’s lying.”
“Non.”
“He… he wouldn’t lie,” I assure him. “He wants to stay with me. Let me finish, and we’ll leave.”
“No!” Atlas screeches. “That thing wants Atticus. It wants to live in our realm!”
Atlas has been cursed before, so maybe he’s right? But if that’s the case, wouldn’t that mean that…
My head whips to the right, staring at My Atticus with wide eyes. “Are you… is this Atticus’s body?”
But as soon as the question leaves me, I regret it. His expression grows cold, distant. His hand leaves me, and as he sneers, he bares sharp, razor-like teeth.
Teeth I’ve never seen before. It’s terrifying.
“Stulte! Vir nequam,” he sneers, voice colder and more distorted than I’ve ever heard it.
“Julian,” I whisper, unable to take my eyes off the man next to me. “What’s happening?”
“Atticus made a deal,” he explains. “To try and save Atlas. It backfired; he was possessed. Whatever it has said to you—”
“Non!”
As My Atticus—no, not my Atticus, the thing—moves a singular step toward Julian, Julian’s eyes widen, and he attempts to take a step back.
I think I understand where that scar came from now.
I’m a fool. I’m so fucking stupid. A doppelg?nger? An extension? No. It was always him, but not. And I’ve been taking advantage of him in his weakest state, abusing his affection for me and my own desire so that I could keep some semblance of him.
I was about to give this thing Atticus’s body… Forever.
“We have to leave,” Atlas rushes out, shoving Julain’s chest. “We have to leave and call the reverend.”
The sets of legs I could see but not identify turn, running back up the steps.
And then, the loudest wail I’ve ever heard pierces the air, causing me to fall to my knees as I cover my ears.
What the fuck is happening?!
The room feels as if it’s spinning, my throat and chest growing tight. I feel as if I could pass out at any second, the air growing even more stifling.
As the sound fades, I look up, and there that thing stands, its teeth bared in a wicked grin, purple fingers extending claws that look deadly enough to kill.
Black eyes flicker down to meet mine, a chill running through me.
“Cameron, continue now,” the demon says, and as I don’t move or speak, it extends one sharp nail in my direction. “Now.”