Kristie Cook - Genesis

Andronika ran for the shelter and reappeared a few minutes later, tugging on her mother’s hand. Cassandra stumbled after her daughter, blinking against the brightness of the morning sun. She looked even worse than she had before, her face vacant, her eyes distant, as if she didn’t see anything in this place or time. As if she was lost in the past. He recognized the look—their Father had carried it for some time after Mother had died.

“Here, Mother,” Andronika said, placing Eris’s water skin in her mother’s hand. “This is what made me better. It will make you better, too.”

Although the change in Jordan allowed his mind to run several thoughts at once, he focused every bit of himself on his sister. He watched her eyes travel to the water skin in her hand and back to her daughter, as if not comprehending. His pulse raced as Andronika forced her mother’s hand up, lifting the skin to her lips. His breath caught as she drank without question. And his heart leapt.

He’d finally done it. His twin sister would have to see his side now. She would have to believe him now. She would have to admit he’d been right all along. She would have to join the Daemoni, where she belonged.

A voice in the back of Cassandra’s mind told her not to drink from the water skin, that something was amiss about this grandmotherly woman and the drink she offered. The back of her neck tingled with the feeling of being watched and not just by Andronika and this woman. Her daughter’s eyes looked so hopeful, however, and she’d witnessed a definitive change in Andronika. Her mood had brightened and she just seemed more alive than either of them had since learning of Niko’s death.

Andronika had attempted to reproduce the concoction on her own, saying the woman had told her the herbal ingredients, but she’d never been able to replicate it—nothing she made had the same effects. Cassandra could smell the same ingredients Andronika used in the water skin now, but she also smelled a bitter tang underneath the lavender, vanilla and other herbs. Perhaps that was the missing ingredient she needed. Or perhaps she was making a big mistake. But she didn’t want to disappoint her daughter and, by now, she was willing to do anything to move beyond her grief for Niko. So when Andronika lifted the skin to her mouth, she drank.

The liquid felt neither warm nor cool in her mouth, but as soon as it hit the pit of her belly, it seemed to freeze. A bitter cold spread among her insides and her stomach tightened painfully, making her cry out. Icy shards entered her bloodstream and traveled throughout her body. Her heart sped, as if trying to outrun the cold, and uncontrollable shivers wracked her shoulders and arms. Her teeth slammed against each other and she tried to wrap her arms around herself, but she couldn’t make them move. She’d never been so cold in her life, even when she’d bathed in the streams up north during the winter.

“Mother,” Andronika shrieked with alarm. “What’s wrong with her?”

Cassandra never heard the answer. The shivers became more violent, more like the convulsions soldiers suffered just before dying. Unable to control herself or to feel any part of her body, she collapsed. She struggled to breathe, but she couldn’t draw in even the slightest bit of air and what was left in her lungs felt heavy and frozen. She wanted to say good-bye to her daughter, but couldn’t. Her head felt as though she’d been plunged into icy water and the words remained frozen in her mind. Her heart silenced. Everything went numb. The world disappeared.

Cassandra’s mind floated in a sea of blackness that became a gray fogginess and when the fog began to clear, a strangled scream caught in her throat. I’ve been a good person. I led a good life. Why am I here? The scene in front of her, surrounding her, had to be Hell. Strangely colored fires blossomed around a dark, round cavern. Cloaked figures sat next to her on thrones that circled the room. Pure evil filled the air, a tangible feeling that wrapped tightly around her, trying to suffocate her. If I’m here … then Jordan was right … we are demons.

“Yes, Jordan was right,” a terrifying voice echoed in her mind. “He was also right about you. You are stronger than we expected. You are a nice addition to the Daemoni.”

The Daemoni? The word rang with familiarity, something Jordan must have told her.

New visions flashed in her mind. Men and women waving their hands and sparks of light emitting from them, causing trees to burst into flames and water to rise out of lakes. Then she saw others, their bodies shimmering and then exploding. They disappeared, replaced by fierce beasts—some familiar, some she’d never seen before, all growling and snarling. More images showed men and women with white skin and perfect features except for their red eyes and teeth that looked like animal fangs. She watched in horror as those fangs slashed into the throats of innocent people, the monsters reveling in the taste of the blood.

Then she saw Niko, her own dear, sweet husband, and tears sprang to her eyes. He, too, had the same pale skin … and fangs dripping crimson. His tongue ran over the tip of one fang, savoring the blood, his eyes closed and he grinned, as if he were in Heaven. But this was not Heaven.

“No, it is not. But it’s not Hell, either,” said the frightening voice. “We are the Daemoni. We’ve brought Hell to Earth. And you will help us rule.”

Never! She wanted to cry out.

“It is time you accepted who—what—you really are. Jordan has given you new powers—”

Jordan? He did this to me? She heard her brother’s laugh in her mind, drowning out the other one.

“Yes, little sister. I’ve made you like me. Together, we can rule the Daemoni. Rule the world.”

She remembered the powers he’d displayed the last time she’d seen him and her frozen heart contracted, shooting pain through her chest.

I don’t want to be like you. I told you that. I don’t want these powers. How could you do this to me?

“It’s too late to fight it. Accept it. Embrace it. We will dominate! Earth will belong to the Daemoni and Satan will finally rule. Because of us.”

“No!” The new voice bellowed from what sounded like right in her ear but also far away.

Cassandra looked up and through a shimmering haze, she saw Father, with his large, white wings and long blades in each hand. But he wasn’t alone. The creature he battled also had wings, but black and rather than covered in feathers, a thin membrane stretched across them, like a bat’s wings. Horns protruded from its head and its eyes glowed red. It swung a black, jagged blade at Father, but he blocked it with one sword and jabbed at the demon with the other. The clash of metal against metal pierced Cassandra’s ears. The demon’s tail whipped, its pointed end slashing at Father, but missing. Father and the demon flew and twisted and rolled in the air, their blades arcing and slicing and parrying each other’s blows. Cassandra gasped when Father lost one of his blades.

“You have to choose, my daughter,” Father spoke in her head. “Choose the life you want. The God you follow.”

I’ve always chosen our life. Our God. The One and Only.

Father gripped his remaining sword in both hands, spun in the air and arced it down, slicing through the demon’s throat. The head fell from the body. Black blood spurted. A hundred voices screamed in Cassandra’s ears, denying the loss.

“Then your soul is ours, my daughter. It always will be.”

Father lifted her in his strong arms and warmth flooded back into her body. Her heart restarted and the heat built inside her and spread throughout, down her arms and legs and into her fingers and toes. Her skin tingled as she regained feeling. Then the heat became too much and she writhed in her father’s arms, screaming at him to douse the fire. Liquid flames licked through her veins. And then her vision grayed out again.