My Demon Succubus - Pt. 11

After that, it never was quite the same at work again. A peace had been established, knowing smiles and something more... a sense of balance. As the weeks lengthened into months, and winter transformed into spring, I noticed that Colin had become more confident. Gone was his boyish shyness, replaced with a sense of purpose and inner strength. Often as the last customer left the building and I shut up for the night, I would see shadows in Miss Johnson's office and hear muffled moans. Caroline too had a smile on her face. I often caught her humming softly to herself at the photocopier and when I confronted her about it, she would just smile and be on her way.

That spring was amongst my happiest days too. Luka would always be with me -- on my walks and in my dreams. We would spend our time together in her crystal house and whenever she was frightened she would rush into my arms where I would cradle her like a little girl, cooing soft words of reassurance into her ears.

"I will never let anyone hurt you, Luka," I would say, softly stroking her coal black hair.

"I know," would be her reply, as she buried her head into my chest.

She would never elaborate on her fears, and when pressed, she would transform into that little girl and stare up with me with panic in her eyes. I had my suspicions though and it wasn't long before they were confirmed.

One spring morning I was walking along the riverbank that ran past the back of my house when I noticed a flock of rooks milling overhead. This wasn't particularly unusual at this time of year -- they often roosted in great numbers in the woods that ran alongside the river, taking to the air at dawn in a great fanfare of sound and motion, but this time it was different. They weren't dispersing as was their norm, splitting into smaller groups to search for breakfast, but whirled about fixated with something on the ground. I climbed over the barbed wire fence that separated me from the birds and into the farmer's field. I immediately knew that something wasn't quite right. Something unnatural -- preternatural even - and a shiver crawled down my spine. The birds didn't flee when I approached, instead, they whipped around me, in a flurry of feathers and beaks. Their boldness surprised me, so much so that I thought that they might attack. In my distraction, I almost stumbled over a sheep lying motionless on its side. Was this what had excited them? It was stiff and stared back with lifeless black eyes. The freshness of the rigor mortis told me that it had died just a few hours ago yet nature had already come to claim it. The grass had grown up almost covering it, and toadstools grew out of its orifices. How could this be?

A moment later the birds took to the skies and quietness descended as if they had never existed.

The silence also brought a chill.

In my peripheral vision there was a flicker -- a darker shade of grey where no grey should have been. My stomach turned because some primitive instinct descended from our monkey forebears knew that the shadow meant me harm.

"It's a shade," Luka said.

It was the tremulous voice of the young girl. "An agent of Anubis, a demon lord, and it knows that I'm here."

How long had the shade been watching me? Two dark coals smouldered in its head, and beneath its cowl, I saw the skeletal death mask of death himself.

"We cannot possibly hope to fight him," Luka said. "Can you make it to the church?"

The church? Was that demonology stuff true?

"It cannot take you in a church," Luka said, "not on holy ground. The old stories are true, Luke. Now run."

I set off at a frantic pace but with the presence following behind keeping to the shadows. Fear welled in my stomach -- fear for myself and fear for Luka. I knew the demon wanted her and it would possess me to get to her.

I knew also that I could not get to the church. The being had no difficulty in keeping pace. In fact, it had been joined by two more of the presences, each weaving and flowing into each other like ghastly coiling snakes.

"They are calling their master," Luka said.

The spire of the church was visible in the distance -- rising up out of the morning mist that had settled on the churchyard. Hope blossomed in my heart and with renewed energy I ran across the fields, scrambling through the mud and hawthorn hedges. The church bell tolled and I saw Father Nicholai amongst the graves with his hands clasped behind his back.

"He is here," Luka announced suddenly. "Oh, sweet Jesus, he is here. I'm so sorry my love." She had transformed into someone or something that I had not met before. Gone was the beautiful raven-haired woman or frightened little girl and in their place was an Amazonian warrior. Her jaw was set and her eyes burnt like embers. There was no fear in her voice and as I looked inward she had the coldness of stone. "I shouldn't have entered you," she said in a soft voice, "you're like a burning beacon, my love. So full of goodness that any girl couldn't resist, but you burn too bright."

The little church was no more than a quarter of a mile away, but it might have been twenty for a dark wall of shadow began congealing around me.

"Do not be afraid, my love," Luka said. "He will not have you."

"You can defeat him?" I asked, doubt and fear in my voice.

"You're so beautiful," she said. "I didn't think anyone was worth waiting two thousand years, but knowing you now, I would wait to the end of time. I realise that to have one true love is all that I ever needed. One person in this world is all that anyone ever needs. Keep me in your heart, my love. You will always be in mine."

And then she was gone. Every gain has its loss and as I reached into the void I felt nothing.

I sank to my knees in the stinking mud and cried to the heavens, "No! Take me."

My voice echoed off the hills and Father Nicholai looked over in my direction. Above me, the shadows heaved and span in a maelstrom.

"Don't leave me, Luka," I cried again. "Oh God, please don't leave me."

Tears streamed down my face and I fell to the ground. I couldn't perceive what supernatural battle ensued around me because as Luka left my body the shadow faded from my consciousness. I felt the window to my soul shut as she departed. Somehow she had sealed the door to protect me. The wind gathered from nowhere and howled as if it was stoked by the very fires of hell and dark rain clouds broiled overhead.

I don't know how long I lay in the muck and the filth as the fury of the heavens caterwauled around me but a man's voice rang out above the storm, "Luke?" A hand gripped my shoulder. "We need to get you out of here," Father Nicholai shouted into my ear.

I saw fear in the white of his eyes. He wrapped an arm around my waist and bundled me towards the little chapel.

"It's her isn't it, the one I felt in the church?"

I didn't answer. I had been consumed by a guttering void.

"I felt something, Luke," he said, "I felt her just like before, and something else... something deeply malign. We have to get you away from here before it's too late."

We stumbled over the fields and eventually were greeted by the tranquillity of the churchyard. I collapsed on the cobbled path where the gentle rays of the morning sun warmed my face.

"It was her wasn't it?" father Nicolas asked again after a few minutes. "I felt her. It was like feeling God."

"Yes," I said, "and now's she's gone."

I sobbed into his shoulder and he cradled me like a little boy until my grief had exhausted itself. He led me into his office and offered me a cup of tea and a biscuit.

"Eat," he said, "you need the energy."

I drank the sweet tea but could not stomach the biscuit. I had failed her. I had promised to protect her but when the question was asked, I had been insufficient.

Epilogue

I visited the church frequently over the following weeks. Father Nicholai and I were the only living souls who had ever touched Luka and knew of her existence.

"Can you feel her, Father Nicholai?" I asked.

He smiled at me with kindly eyes. "No my son," he replied, as he had done on all the previous occasions.

"I feel her in my dreams sometimes," I said. "A faint echo as if she's trying to get back home, but I cannot be sure that it is her."

He laid a hand on my shoulder and said, "Strength my son."

Spring gave way to summer, and in its turn, summer welcomed in autumn. I retained the love of walking the lonely country lanes, made keener by the absence of Luka. Nothing grew in the spot where the sheep had died -- and although I couldn't sense it, I knew that something unnatural infested that spot.

In the stillness of the mornings, sometimes I thought that I heard hear Luka, in the sigh of the wind, or perhaps the susurration of the leaves in the trees, and I would turn round hoping to see her again. My walks would inevitably take me to the church where Father Nicholai and I would talk. As time eroded memory I noticed that Father Nicolai would sometimes question whether it had not been anything more than a storm. He rationalised it, dissected it and examined the ridiculousness of the idea that supernatural entities had battled in the firmament on a quiet hill just outside the church until the very notion seemed absurd. I knew I sounded absurd too but some part of me held onto the memory. I had promised never to forget her. When he gently suggested that I should see a doctor I didn't return.

In fact, during the summer of that year, I also quit the library service and began to search for the dark origins of Luka's world -- the 'never and now' -- a place that existed beyond the reach of mortals. My years at the library had given me knowledge of the locations of early pagan religious texts that described the afterworld where damned souls came to rest. On a cold winter's morning, almost a year to the day after I had first met Luka, I stumbled across a parchment called the 'Demon Rumah' which roughly translated means 'The Demon Room'. It was located in the dark basement of a forgotten village church in Egypt. The mouldering leather-bound book lay in a broken urn, no doubt hidden millennia ago by village elders to preserve the secrets of the dead. I lay the ragged book on the sandy floor and opened it with a galloping heart. Parts of the faded text crumbled to dust, but other parts shone as if newly printed, preserved perhaps by otherworldly forces. I brought the torch closer to beat back the shadows, and there before me, as clear as my hand in front of my face, I saw the ancient cuneiform marks of the dead. I struggled to translate them and wondered if this is what I had been searching for. My questions though were quickly answered for when I turned to the back page, painted in black ink was the unmistakable image of Luka.

***

Many thanks to those of you who made it to the end! What do you think of Luka's death? Did Luke love her? What should he do next? Let me know in the comments.