The Devil's Son + Redemption

Redemption Chapter Twelve

Hello! I think that my new goal will be to uplad weekly, which means that you should get a new update every week! School's been less of a pain lately, and it promises to be even less of a pain nex week, so I guess I'll have quite a lot of time to write. Now, since I'm boring you to death with my uneventful existence, I shall let you read! ;D Oh and just know that I ditched my am-hazing litterary analysis to write this for you, XD

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Chapter Twelve

I'm on my knees, and I fade away from my body, hearing Adam's alarmed whispers, telling me to try to overcome the vision. Overcome the vision? He should know better! I can't just rule them out of my mind, they keep coming, no matter if I want them or not. They are now part of my existence, an immovable part of the wreckage that has become my life.

I’m pulled into someone else’s mind, and I feel trapped there, seeing everything through their eyes as if from behind a sheet of glass. I have no power over what’s happening, I am only a silent and powerless witness of a scene that happened or is about to happen.

The night has fallen across the land, shrouding the old mansion in shadows that seemed to hide all kinds of unknown creatures.

In the night, the house was even more eerie, the empty window panes staring out in the night like empty eye sockets.

I can’t read the thoughts of my host, since they are in some weird language I can’t understand. The words are more like hisses, in different intonations, and I don’t understand any of them. The stranger is draped in a dark cloak, a hood drawn over his face to hide his features.

There is a feeble light coming from one of the upper empty windows, like a flickering flame of a candle, the faint glow dancing on the cracked walls.

The stranger walks the dirt path that leads to what was once a porch but is now only a ruined thing, his steps noiseless on the soft ground that sinks in slightly under his mud-caked boots.

His steps make no sound on the ruined steps, and the door doesn’t creek when he enters the mansion. There is a thick layer of dust on the ground, with footsteps imprinted onto it, and some boards look rotten to the point of breaking down if walked upon, but still, the stranger is as quiet as a predator hunting its prey.

There is something that might once have been a beautiful grand staircase, and I can imagine the steps made of polished dark wood, glinting in the soft morning light. But now, there are gaping holes in the wooden boards, wide enough to swallow a well-sized man whole if he doesn’t watch his feet. They seem to be able to cave in at any moment, but as the stranger mounts them, nothing happens. The walls are cracked and moisture has crept over them, giving them a sick green tint, barely visible in the moonlight that floods the place through a hole in the roof. The floral wallpaper is torn and hangs limply from the walls, a grotesque reminder of the mansion’s former glory.   

The stranger stopped just outside the room, and plunged one hand in the depths of his cloaks, pulling out a wooden stake and a small flask containing clear liquid. Then, in one quick movement, he was inside, and the person that was already in the room whirled. It was a man, in his early twenties, clearly possessed by a Demon. His eyes were totally black, no whites and no pupils, so alien in the human face that if I was in my own body I would’ve took a step back at this strange sight.  

It bared its teeth at the stranger, and he quickly opened the small flask and threw the translucent liquid in the Demon’s face. With an inhuman shriek of pain, the creature clutched its face, as the smell of burned flesh filled the atmosphere and volutes of smoke rose from beneath its fingers. The stranger lunged at the Demon, stake ready to pierce its heart. They crashed to the ground, and the stranger buried the stake deep into the Demons chest. Blood oozed from the wound, and the Demon convulsed on the floor, gagging on its own blood as the last spark of life vanished from its eyes.