Dead and Horny Ch. 24

Hi, all! Annabelle Hawthorne back with the final installment of "I couldn't afford therapy so I wrote a sequel to a spinoff novel about sexy monster girls fighting religious vampires and demons!"

(I saved so much time avoiding self reflection, totally worth it)

New readers, welcome! This is the last chapter of Dead and Horny 2, so you're essentially about to sit through the last 40 minutes of Return of the King and will be all "Who's this short guy in the bed, did he have cancer, oh look, his friends are here, why is everyone bowing to him now?" But hey, the cinematography was gorgeous, so you do you, boo.

Returning readers, welcome back! I did it, I wrote another fucking novel, woohoo! I hope with this expansion of the Horny Monsters universe, I've added even more flavor to the things that are about to come. As a reminder, this chapter takes place a few months BEFORE Book 6 of HFHM.

I would like to thank everyone who supported this story along the way. Whether you were a beta reader, someone who left stars, comments, or even emailed me about how much fun you had. THANK YOU. I love being able to experience these things in real time, to read about your excitement and apprehension for the things to come. There will likely be a D&H 3 down the road somewhere, but it's time for me to turn my full attention back to Mike Radley and his magical home for a bit.

I've been writing in this universe for 6 years now, and it has changed my life. I look forward to sharing even more stories with you in the future, and want to remind anyone else who has dreamed big like I have that even the mightiest of fires often starts from just

A Little Spark

Lily cracked into Deacon's mind with ease, muting his frantic screams as she stacked his memories up like panes of glass to inspect them. Her essence tugged at his soul like a determined puppy, nibbling the sharp edges away and leaving behind a mottled mess. Souls didn't typically last long in this place, but she was keeping him preserved for now. While memories could sometimes be accessed later on, she didn't have the luxury of assuming Deacon's would remain intact as she digested him for eternity. The longer a soul sat in her metaphorical gut, the harder it became for them to remember anything regarding their personal lives. There were spirits inside her from her early days that only had a vague inkling that they had been alive once upon a time.

The pain of having his mind fragmented into pieces drove Deacon mad early on, the man now babbling between sobs, but Lily would just reassemble his essence later. Souls were very resilient that way, and his suffering didn't even faze her. The bastard had already committed hundreds if not thousands of people to a one-way trip to eternal damnation, so any regret she might feel was quickly subdued. Many of his memories weren't important enough to keep, so she tossed them to the other souls to do with what they wished.

Ravenous, her spiritual slaves entered the memories and began their own torment of Deacon. It was the one bit of freedom she allowed them, the opportunity to torture each other. Inside these memories, Deacon was forced to endure numerous methods of torture, humiliation, and even his own death, stuck in a loop as Lily sifted through the shards of his life.

"For a douchebag, his shit really is pretty clean." Mike stood next to her, contemplating an image of Deacon giving a sermon in Atlanta. The image in the glass moved in slow motion, but there wasn't any sound. "You usually find the good stuff early on."

"He's still hiding what I want to know." She took the Atlanta sermon from Mike and turned to face a scowling spirit who appeared at her whim. The tormented soul before her had been an arsonist that the Society had hired more than once. The idiot had decided to extort them for money, so they sent in Lily to take him out. "Make him relive this one, only the whole place burned down and he got trapped inside."

The arsonist nodded, then took the frame from her and melted into the picture. It hovered in the air for a few moments, then hairline fractures appeared on the glass as the image now depicted a screaming Deacon melting from the heat of the flames.

"You're being quite thorough." Mike hopped onto a stool that conjured itself from the aether. "I've never seen you do this before."

"I was quite the artist once upon a time." She smiled at Mike.

"You mean before I redeemed you?" Mike licked his lips and winked.

"Maybe." She smirked and then picked up another memory. "Here we go. These aren't in chronological order, which is weird. I'm guessing that's Legion's handiwork. But this one has his wife, and we know what he's hiding from us involves her somehow."

"Yeah, it does." Mike took the memory from her. "Maybe I should ask him what he's hiding. We could do a good-cop, bad-cop routine."

"And you're the good cop?"

Mike chuckled. "We could flip a coin for it. I'll hold him at gunpoint, you could set him on fire."

"That would be bad cop, worse cop. Are you even taking this seriously?"

"Nope. But because I'm not, you are." His features turned serious as he picked up another memory. "So I guess we go through these and sort out anything involving his wife and try to dig through them later."

The effort took only moments in the real world, but was hours inside of Lily's mind. She and Mike created three different categories for Deacon's memories. The first was anything involving his wife, and the second category was any memory they thought may contain a nugget of information they could use. The third category belonged to memories they knew had nothing of value, like his numerous televised sermons. Those went directly to the tormented souls living inside her essence. If she wanted to, she could have listened to Deacon's soul scream for mercy, but for whatever reason, she had lost the taste for it.

She was getting soft, but she knew the reason why. Looking at the tiny piece of Mike's soul standing in the corner and humming to himself, she knew that she was becoming soft for him. It wasn't because she had to, but because she wanted to. The thought made her feel warm inside. It was a very different warmth than she was used to.

"Hold on." Mike was holding a memory in his hands. "Have you ever heard that old saying that memories are just your brain recreating stuff?"

"Maybe." Lily moved to where Mike stood. "Why?"

"Since this is his soul and not his mind, then whatever we see should be accurate, correct?"

"For the most part. Humans delude themselves all the time, so I'll sometimes see stuff in their head that's clearly been overwritten. But once they're in here, I can scrape off the gunk. Why?"

Mike showed her the frame. It was a moving image of Deacon on a cot, clearly from his homeless days. He was holding a Bible in his hands, slowly turning through the pages. At his side, an old man spoke, his gnarled fingers picking at the skin of his face. The elderly figure was blurry, like a grease stain through paper. "This isn't what we saw before."

"Interesting." Lily took the memory and stretched it out wide enough to jump inside. She stood in the homeless shelter now, her gaze on the old man with Deacon. He was talking animatedly, but instead of a human voice, it was the buzzing of flies.

"I think we just found Legion." Mike circled the cot, then knelt down nearby. "This guy is sitting roughly where that enochian script was the last time we were in here. It can't be a coincidence. Is this memory still altered from before?"

"Not quite." Lily tapped the memory with a finger, and the world rippled. The buzzing sound faded away, and Legion's voice manifested, echoing oddly throughout the room.

"Angels are very real," Legion said, scratching at a sore on his face. "Even those who fell were part of His plan. But what if I told you he couldn't account for everything?"

Deacon chuckled, then handed the Bible back. "Look, man, I just want a place to sleep for the night. No offense, but I'm trying to stay clean, and shit like this depresses me."

"What if I told you I could take the edge off? Just for tonight." Legion put a wrinkled hand on Deacon's leg.

"Don't do that." Deacon tried to yank his leg away, but Legion held fast. Dark fluid rose from Deacon's pants like spilled ink, then soaked into Legion's skin. "Wait, what the hell was that?"

"The poison in your veins." Legion held black-tipped fingers out. "Tonight, you fall asleep as a healthy man, that you may ponder what I have to offer." He rose, but not before handing the Bible back. "You could feel like this every night."

Deacon scowled, but he was sitting up straight now, his eyes more alert than before. He took the Bible and watched Legion walk away to lie down on a nearby cot.

"This is where they met," Lily muttered, then put mental pressure on the memory. The night ran in fast forward, Deacon sitting in bed and reading. When lights out was called, the shelter descended into darkness. Osgrove's eyes lit up briefly with magic, and he continued to read throughout the night in pure darkness.

When the morning came, he stood and walked over to Legion's cot. The demon was coughing, his skin flecked with dark liver spots.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Mike asked.

"No idea." Lily frowned, then knelt by the demon's cot. "Even on his own, he should be strong enough to make others bend to his whims."

She watched as Legion sat up, the dark fluid he had absorbed slipping discretely across the floor and climbing up Deacon's legs. Osgrove appeared stricken as he shivered and scratched at his skin.

"Don't," he said, holding out the Bible. "Don't make me feel that way again."

Legion chuckled. "I can keep the addiction at bay, but it comes with a price."

"Anything," Deacon said, then shook the Bible. "Even this."

The demon's face twisted into a grin. "I was hoping you would say that."

The memory came to an end, then shrank down until it was in Lily's hands again. She set it aside in case she needed to see it later.

Legion helped raise Deacon out of homelessness from the shadows. First he had Deacon read the Bible front to back, then taught him how to orate and command attention. Deacon started a small fellowship in the shelter, which was noticed by the staff. A local priest dropped by to speak with Deacon about his faith. Weeks in the shelter became months, but Deacon was allowed to stay longer than usual as a guest of the church. Each day, Legion drew the poison of addiction from Deacon's body and kept him clean. Deacon repaid the demon by speaking about God's plan to anyone who would listen.

Lily half expected something nefarious, but it was all a tool to get Deacon noticed by the higher ups at the church. Deacon was asked to give a guest sermon when the local pastor fell ill, a sickness brought down on the man by Legion himself. The sermon impressed some of the wealthier patrons, who decided to put together a collection to help move Deacon out of the shelter and into a place of his own.

That was where the real work started. Every day, Deacon volunteered and preached from the Bible, his natural charisma bleeding into every aspect of his life. His star rose into the sky, and he was asked to guest star on an AM radio show. Legion manipulated the airwaves on more than one occasion, calling in with different voices so that others could hear salvation occur in real time.

It wasn't long before Deacon found someone who wanted him to start his own congregation. By now, he was full of confidence as he suggested that the congregation shouldn't be limited by location and maybe they could stream some of the sermons online. At night, he watched from the darkness of his home as his viewer count went up with Legion right by his side the whole time.

"I guess I don't get it." Mike stood behind Legion, his arms crossed. "This seems like a lot of work from Legion's angle. The asshole has had one foot in the grave the whole time. What's his angle?"

"Demons don't think of time like you do," Lily explained. "A hundred years to a human will feel like a couple of months at most. He is patient, but it looks like he's taking a heavy risk." She paused the scene and gestured at the demon. "I'm fairly certain he's keeping this vessel alive with willpower alone."

"Nasty." Mike wandered off as Lily continued. He missed the moment where things shifted, a dark night when Deacon sipped at a beer while watching his most recent sermon on a laptop in a hotel room.

"It's time," Legion said, placing bony fingers on Deacon's shoulder. "You've gone as far as you can go on your own, and my powers are at their limit."

"What would you have of me?" Deacon looked back over his shoulder.

"It's time for you to take a bride." Legion's eyes glowed ominously in the darkness. "One who will give you a family."

"Hmm." Deacon turned off the sermon and opened up a folder on his computer. Inside were dozens of folders, each one with a different name. "My people have put together some dossiers on potential prospects. All of these are women who have written me letters or attended my sermons. Their education, family background, and health histories have been thoroughly researched. Still, we'll have to be pretty picky. I have a few in mind that I think will be perfect, but you will want to vet them personally. I can't see into a person's mind quite like you can."

"Of course." Legion leaned over Deacon as the pastor started pulling out files. The memory terminated early and Lily was forced to dig through several more before finding what happened next. In the real world, a jogger ran by, casting a brief look in Lily's direction. She got a vibe off of him that he might be circling back to try and chat her up, so she gave him a hard stare that threw him off his pace.

"Eyes up, chicken legs." She made sure to glare at his backside as he pretended to ignore her, then settled back into her head once again.

Back in her head, she continued to dissect Deacon's memories once more. She watched as he and Legion picked out the woman who would become Deacon's wife. The courtship was brief, intense, and culminated once more in the scene where Deacon impregnated his wife. Yet she was unable to find any further mention of what he and Legion had been planning. The demon's physical form was failing him and he spent his days motionless in bed.

In the end, it was Mike who found the final memory sandwiched between a pair of innocuous ones from Deacon's childhood. Mike held it over his head and waved it like a banner before slapping it onto the ground where it expanded and covered the space they were in. Lily and Mike now stood in a hospital room, machines beeping ominously as a still figure laid in a nearby bed.

"She'll be here soon," said Deacon, then took the figure by the hand. Lily realized that the dying man was none other than Legion. "You know how it is."

Legion nodded, unable to speak. The tube down his throat was doing all the breathing for him.

"So what happened here?" Mike asked. "I thought you said his demon magic kept him alive?"

"It may have, but he's still in a human body. Mortals are made of meat, and meat always rots." She leaned over Legion and sneered. If this weren't a memory, she would be tempted to strangle him. The edges of this memory were tinged with gold and crimson light, both of them evidence that it had not only been buried deep, but possibly erased. Even now, the memory had literal holes in it that she could see through.

The door opened and Deacon's wife stepped inside, one hand over her swollen belly. The other was at her mouth, her eyes shifting back and forth between Legion and Deacon.

"Is this him?" she asked.

Deacon nodded, then stroked Legion's forehead. "It is," he replied. "This is the angel who helped me become who I am."

"It is such an honor," she whispered, then took Legion's hand. "I must admit, I doubted. But all of His children doubt at some point, don't they?" She rubbed her belly. "The doctors, they all said this wasn't medically possible, but you made this happen, didn't you?"

Legion nodded, then gestured to Deacon.

"Our daughter will grow up strong," Deacon said, moving to his wife. "And she will become a leader among men. But the angel has one final task for us. For you, specifically."

Deacon's wife moved to Legion's side. "Anything," she swore.

The demon struggled to pull the tube from his throat, his gnarled fingers now withered away in places, the skin flaking off. He pulled the apparatus out, then took a single, rasping breath before speaking.

"Your consent," he whispered, then pointed to the woman's belly. "I need...your permission...to...let me in...your daughter."

"I don't understand," she replied, then looked at Deacon.

"His presence here on earth requires a mortal form," Deacon explained. "Our child will become his new vessel."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Lily moved to grab Deacon by the throat, but Mike stopped her.

"We need to know what happens next," he replied. "This memory is already fragile enough, you might tear it." He pointed down at her feet, and she saw that the ground had torn like paper where she had stepped.

"Fuck!" She glared at Deacon as he and his wife conferred silently. Legion watched the two of them, his already sallow skin starting to sag. Deacon's wife approached the demon with tears in her eyes.

"What will happen to my little girl?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"She'll go where all unborn children go." Legion smiled, his eyes turning dark. He put a single hand on the woman's stomach.

"To be with God?" Her voice shook. Deacon moved up behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"We are being tested," he told her, then nuzzled his face into her neck. "Can we prove that we're worthy?"

The woman nodded, and Legion let out a gasp. Lily watched in horror as the demon's eyes fluttered, the baby's soul swapping places with his essence. The machines in the room flatlined, and Deacon pulled his wife away from the old man's corpse and put both hands on her belly.

"Our child is an angel," he said as he kissed her forehead. "In all the best ways."

The woman sobbed as medical staff came into the room and pronounced Legion's former body as dead. Deacon's wife let out a groan as her legs went out from beneath her and a puddle of fluid formed between her knees.

"Guess this old guy was just making room for somebody new," said one of the attendants as he helped Deacon's wife up. "At least you'll save money on the ambulance ride, right?"

Nobody seemed to notice the dark fluid leaking out of his wife's eyes. Cracks formed across the memory before it shattered, leaving her and Mike alone in the void.

"Legion's vessel was Deacon's daughter." Lily shook her head in disbelief and looked at Mike. "How did I not see this?"

Mike contemplated her for a moment then looked at the memories stacked nearby. "Misdirection," he replied. "They hid her in plain sight. Forever in her father's shadow, but actually leading from behind. That man raised Legion as his own child, but kept her tucked away."

"But I should have known!" Lily stared at the stack of memories. "Even in these, she's nothing more than a shadow!"

"Do we even know her name?" Mike stared at Lily in horror. "This whole time she's been right there, and we don't even know who she is. She's always just been Deacon's daughter."

"Fuck!" Lily shouted so hard that she exited her head space and screamed it over the nearby bluff. Birds and other nearby animals panicked at the fury in her voice, then scattered into the air. Rising to her feet, Lily sprinted back to the house. Legion has escaped, but surely Eulalie could find her, right?

Right?

💀💀💀

It was late in the evening. The setting sun kissed the waves on the horizon with fiery streaks of red that shot out and captured returning fishing vessels in silhouettes of darkness.