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Elizabeth Evelyn Stember

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Recent stories by Elizabeth Evelyn Stember
· Life and Death Masquerade
· Innocent Trespass
· Meeting Of Tastes
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Sorcerer Beginnings
By Elizabeth Evelyn Stember
Monday, February 09, 2009

Rated "R" by the Author.

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A more sadistic look at the begining of two of my favorite characters, Gina and Atrocit.

If you are on DeviantArt then let it be advised that there is an offer to allow fanfiction and fan art if they so wish. For those that care.

And please no religous flames until I have my smores ingredients ready.

                The nightly report had gone out, for anyone watching the news, informing those viewing that the perpetrator of recent ritualistic slayings of children was still at large, the simple bit of this making the twelve year old watching shudder.  It was her friends that were dead…at least three of them, her best friends.  Their desecrated bodies cut and torn and mutilated had been on the screens of tv, the waves of radios, and the tips of everyone’s wagging tongues the last few weeks.  It was sick how the mean adults were splashing her poor friends around for their own popularity.  She agreed with her grandmother, it made her sick.

                She sighed, her grandmother was out for the evening playing bingo with her gal pals at the local church a few blocks over, confident that the child would be safe all alone.  For her own sake she hoped the old woman was right in that she would be fine when the crone came home.  She turned the television to a different channel, some cartoons that didn’t really appeal to her were on and she was only half paying attention as the hour got steadily later.  Her bed time was creeping close, but she was willing the show to keep her attention just so she wouldn’t notice the late time and have a reason for being up so late when her grandmother got home.

                There was no such luck as she uneasily turned off the t.v., slowly standing up as she went upstairs to bed.  Her red hair was already in its customary tight braid, her face washed as well as her teeth brushed, so all she had to do was snuggle under the covers in fear.  Her grandmother refused to let the child sleep with her because she was too old for such coddling.

                The crosses on the wall were not as over bearing in strictness as she looked at them in the half dim light, the mourning of a betrayed man depicted in such agony with a sorrowful look symbolized the very rule bound household she’d lived in since she was a toddler.  A strict roman catholic grandmother was her only family, and like any child she obeyed them without question because to question the ways of one’s elders was disrespectful and was not allowed.  She swallowed upon getting to her door, looking up at the cross on hers and crossed herself before going inside.

                “To protect every room from the devil,” her grandmother had told her once, her crinkled thin lips a tight line of severity as if she had not laughed in joy for some time, “he can hide anywhere and in any guise, my little Gem Gina.  But he won’t get in here, not while we have our lord and our faith in Him to drive the tainted one away.”

                What at one time seemed the words of an excentric old bat had in the current situation been an emotional sanctuary for Gina, even if it was for selfish reasons it’s usually when faith was poured into common beliefs for protection most.  With a heavy sigh, Gina opened the door, tiptoeing in the dark through the mess of her room across the tiny space to where her only source of light, a bland white lamp, resided and turned it on.

                When she saw the face of a half attentative man at the window of her second story room she screamed, ducking under the little desk and her behind landed on the lamp’s cord, yanking it from the wall as her fear broke a dam clearly in her voice as she cried out, “No, dear god, don’t let me die!!”

                What exactally happened next would be hard for Gina to account for, because the moment the light went out and her voice rang in the half second of darkness, a soft blue glow filled the room.  It was the size of a tall averagely built man, clothed in a black robe with a white square for a collar, what she took to be hair was at best blonde and untamed and the eyes were black, face pale like a vampire.  The nails were unusually long and sharp even for the most feminine male, as if they were meant not for show but for tearing into flesh.

                The black gaze turned to her, as she shook and was barely hanging onto her nerves, fear making her ice cold all on her spine as the gaze turned to the man in the window, who seemed to be alert though still a little sluggish, then back at her.  As if it was deciding something.

                The man in the window was quickly making an escape, or tried to nearly falling off the ladder he had used to climb up and the strange man or whatever it was that appeared in her room turned it’s gaze on the fleeing man.  She watched amazed as this person, or thing, or whatever it was punched through the glass window, putting one foot out and then the torso.  It seemed to her, though it was probably her imagination, that as he departed through the window he was getting larger…as if his height was increasing with his movements, intent apparently on the frightened man she could now hear the frightened whimperings of.

                Gina rushed to the window, careful of the glass, looking out in the cold autumn night as her eyes didn’t deceive her.  The man that was in her room grew to nearly three times his height in the space of moments at will, and had easily grabbed the man up in his hand, squeezing it.  A sick grin on the giant’s lips as he opened up his maw and took a bite.  She looked away, disgusted, holding back the urge to wretch.

                Even though she couldn’t see it, she could swear she could almost taste the skin, blood, bone, any sinew and any thing else that was in a skull as she could hear the crunching.  A coppery taste came next, a strained face on her features as she covered her mouth and closed her eyes tightly shut, tears of terror streaming down her cheeks.  She wouldn’t have guessed that whatever it was that had in a way saved her was now drinking down, sucking right out of the limp body, every drop of blood it could squeeze from it before eating it as easy as a person eats a French fry.  The tastes she couldn’t recognize, echoing in her mouth as the thing ate, took their toll as she ran into the bathroom and began to heave up her stomach contents, though there wasn’t much that came up.

                “It was a dream,” she told herself, in between retches as she tried to calm down, “No one was at my window and I didn’t just see something eat another person…” she shook, spitting then flushing the toilet, leaning against the wall next to it.  She brushed her teeth again, in an attempt to get those horrible tastes and the taste of bile out of her mouth, doing little good for that, and walked back into her room.  She expected everything to be back in order and she just had a very vivid delusion.  What was waiting for her stopped her blood cold.

                The thing was back to a regular human size, in her room, standing on glass as it eyed her.  The blood drained from her face as she whimpered, a sick grin on the other’s face as the blood and other such disgusting pieces were all over his face.  He knelt down on one knee, bowing with that sickening grin that made her stomach churn staring at her, not saying anything.  His eyes were almost gauging her as she moved slowly to sit on her bed, curling up in the corner furthest from him.  He turned to look at her huddled like a frightened animal with no defence.

                “…wh…who are you?” she asked quietly, her voice cracking as she stared at him.  “Are you the devil?”

                The grin got wider, “I am Atrocit…I am the demon you summoned to your aid, my master.”

                His tone was mocking her as she flinched from his voice.  It wasn’t ugly, but it was one that made her jump.  She swallowed, looking at him critically.

                “A…demon?  I summoned you?” she asked confusedly, “How..?”

                “You called and I answered,” he answered simply, standing up.  He was an impressive height, to be sure.  “Who was that man I devoured?”

                “Probably the crazy person ritualistically killing children around here,” she muttered softly.

                “Well, he couldn’t have been that bad since he wasn’t disgusting to eat,” he said smoothly, sitting on the bed and chuckling at the whimper she gave as he got closer.  “What is your name…master?”

                He said it as if there was a joke that she wasn’t aware of, but she meekly replied anyway, “It’s Gina…”

                She was absently rubbing the back of her neck, as if something itched there.  She would find out later and get a thorough lecture later about what would be mistaken for a tattoo under where her hand rubbed.  A pentacle with a cross inside of it was there, noticeable to whoever saw.

                “Who is it that lives with you?” he asked, looking around at the Christian knick knacks around the room, then peering into the hall, “I smell another human.”

                “It’s my grandmother…don’t’ eat her,” she said quickly, almost pleading.  He laughed, a sick laugh of amusement.  She was pathetic, no real backbone to authority and was scared of what she summoned.  She was right to be so.

                “As you wish, Gina,” he stopped calling her master, as if the roles were officially switched in his eyes for the most part, “now how will you explain this glass and my presence to your grandmother?”

                “I’ll figure something out…” she whimpered, then got up slowly, carefully moving around him to plug the light back in.  The light was harsh in it’s radiance as it pierced the room, revealing the mess on his face.  There was more then she had realized, her stomach wanting to leave through her mouth again.  “You…got something…” she said weakly, pointing to a spot, “right there.”

                His long tongue shot out and licked it up with a smirk, her eye wincing as she watched with a gulp of anxiety.  “Anywhere else?”

               “Practically everywhere,” she muttered, “You may want to wash it off instead…the bathroom’s this way…” She lead him to the bathroom, then left him when he informed her that he knew how indoor plumbing worked, sitting downstairs.

                “Well, what’s plausible…hmmm…” she had gotten a better look at him when she turned the light on in her room, he could for the most part pass as a priest.  Her face brightened up, that’s what she’ll do!  She’ll introduce him as the new priest to their parish.  Her grandmother believed that priests could do no wrong…she could even glorify what happened and why her window was broken!  She was almost giddy as she got up off the couch and started pacing.  “Yes…it could just work…”

                “What could?” the earlier self proclaimed demon walked down the steps, any mark of the scuffle clean and gone from him, not a trace to be seen.

              She took a breath before beginning, “The half truth we’re going to tell my grandmother.”

              “We?”

              “Yes, we, because you broke the window but you and I are going to blame it on the guy you…” she choked on the word, “ate.”  She made a face.  “And you’ll be introduced as the new priest…I’m sure you can find a way to weasel in somehow…Well, they were waiting for a new priest since the oldest one retired recently…” she mused, almost half to herself.

              His head perked up, hearing the door handle jiggle.  “Put on your best acting face then, Gina…because you have a hell of a tale to shove down her throat.”


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Reviewed by Nickolaus Pacione 7/12/2013
This reminds me of your dad's story. You are just as good.
Reviewed by Felix Perry 2/9/2009
I love it, grabs the attention from the first and builds in excitement and cunning type of fear that the girl and demon seem to swap from one to the other...Well done.

Fee


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