Daemon

[LGWyant]

Well, I finally got word that after much deliberation my short story Daemon didn't make the final cut. (huge sad face)... o well. As promised back in August, i am now posting it here for reading pleasure and if you feel like commenting or offering criticism, please DO.

I can't grow as a writer without knowing what i might be doing wrong. Now, i will try to get this all nice and neat, but remember it was originally posted in double spacing in a word document so it might have a few glitches. And now, without further ado, I give you ... DAEMON

[LGWyant]

DAEMON by LGWyant

Fall had truly come to Carlton Park as the cool November breeze sent leaves skittering across the browning grass. The oak and elm trees that once stood proud now raised their bereft limbs to the sky, like so many penitent worshipers asking for forgiveness. Contrastingly, the pines and cedars were almost over barren with a heavy coat of needles. They seemed to loom over their bare limbed cousins like a pack of wolves eager for the next meal.

This contrast repeated itself in the animal world as well. Here and there chipmunks and squirrels flitted about, each trying to secure the bounty of nuts that littered the ground so they might live comfortably through the winter.

Watching from the shadows a silent predator waited for the perfect opportunity to strike. It slithered from one inky splotch of shadow to the next, trying to avoid as much light as possible.

It was this pattern of life that had always drawn Daemon here; it was one of the few things he remembered about his human life. It was the reason he was here now, to search for his next prey. In this constant struggle of predator and prey he would always be the predator, it was ordained.

He stalked from the shadows as usual, all of Them oblivious to his presence. A patch of trees here, a bush or two there, with a wooden sign thrown in for good measure. Daemon lived in shadow and silence; they were his sister and brother, just as his prey was his sustenance.

Daemon flicked his tongue at the air, tasting the scents. The one he was after would be here soon, he could feel it.

To his left Daemon sees a young boy trailing behind his unobservant father, struggling to keep up. The father wouldn’t even realize his precious son was gone until it was too late.

The sky was already turning the shade of a bruised plum as day metamorphosed into night. The breeze had also gained an edge to it’s breathe as it drove people to their cars. It wouldn’t be long until most of Them were gone.

Daemon stood in the deep shadows behind a thicket as a middle-aged woman and her daughter came into view. The woman looked to be in her forties with greying black hair. She was small in build and wore a black shawl over her shoulders to keep warm.

Her daughter also had dark black hair, although she was slender and stood about four inches taller than her mother. She was dressed as most preppy girls did in her school; dark jeans and a trendy t-shirt under her boyfriend’s letterman jacket. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a pair of expensive sneakers.

They sit at a bench about ten feet to his left, presumably to watch the spectacular sunset the park is known for. Daemon’s assumption is proved correct as his keen ears pick up their conversation.

The younger one looks around nervously, taking a second glance at Daemon’s hiding spot “how can you be so sure mom? You know all about what’s been going on around here”.

“Don’ chu worry darlin”, the mother reassures her daughter as she pats her hand. The older woman then proceeded to bring a thermos from her large purse.

Daemon’s nose is so strong he could even tell what brand the hot chocolate was.

“How can you say that” the daughter exclaims, not reassured in the least. “You know the predators still at large”.

A smile comes to Daemon’s lips as his prey has just shown itself to him. Excitement coils his muscles as he prepares to strike, waiting for the opportune moment. No matter how many times he’s gone through this, it’s this anticipation that’s always the worst. The last final moments before his body tells him it’s time to attack. This MUST be perfection, he wants it to be just the way he’d imagined it. A split-second too early and all could be for naught. Daemon’s ear-tips begin to tingle, it’s almost time.

Becca Reynolds looked frightfully from one shadow to the next, unable to appreciate the splendor her mother had dragged her out here for. She hugged her boyfriend’s jacket closer around her. Her mom might be with the forest patrol, but she didn’t carry a firearm; a fact that only added to her worrying.

“Don’t worry so much,” Becca heard her mother say,” I have a radio. Joe ‘n the boys are only two minutes away if we need’m”.

The last part of the statement wasn’t even over when the thing Becca had been dreading materialized out of nowhere, he was as bad as she had imagined him.

He easily stood over six feet tall and must have weighed around two hundred and sixty pounds. Long greasy blonde hair framed a face that was straight out of a nightmare, all hard lines and clammy white skin. Dark stains covered his clothes from head to toe, which he kept covered with a black duster.

His voice contrasted so much with his image it made both of them pause. “You can try my lady, but it won’t do you any good”. His velvety smooth voice held them trancelike as he edged closer.

Then Becca saw a glint coming from his left hand that he kept to his side. It didn’t take long for her to recognize it for the weapon it was. She couldn’t get out more than a whimper, but she valiantly pulled at her mother’s arm trying to get her to move. The dread Becca felt mounted with increasing intensity. Her survival instinct at war with her strange inability to move.

After what seemed like an eternity her mother regained some control of herself. “Joe, Danny…..can you hear me?…..Mike, I need you now.” She was standing now, holding the radio in front of them as if it was a barrier of some sort.

The man cocked his head to the side and seemed to wait politely for someone to answer before stepping forward again. “I told you Ma’am, it won’t do any good.” Then his continence grew angry and the velvet turned to glass, “ Now stop being a nuisance and I’ll promise to make this painless for her”, he said pointing the knife at the daughter for emphasis.

That was the catalyst that sent Becca’s survival instinct into flight mode. She grabbed her mother’s arm in a crazed fever, and with strength she didn’t realize she had began running with her as fast as she could toward their parked car.

With a cry emanating from his wolfish smile and a crazed look in his eyes the man started running after them.

This was the moment Daemon had waited for. As the mother and daughter sprinted past him not looking back, he let the man’s momentum carry himself straight into his arms. He looked at Daemon’s face and blood red eyes a foot higher than his, and he could hear the man’s heart almost stop in his chest.

With his voice now quivering in fear the man gasped out, “ What are you”?

“I didn’t always look this way, I was once a man myself,” replied Daemon. “A cop in fact, I was trailing a serial killer when I died.” Daemon lowered his face inches away from the man’s, “in this very park”.

The man feebly attempted to struggle. He jabs with the knife, breaking the tip on Daemon’s left side. The blade clatters to the ground where it’s blood-stained surface can be used to trace this man to the other’s he’d tortured.

Even with the crimes he had committed Daemon’s rage must still be controlled. He can almost feel the fear emanating from the man triple as his gruesome smile reveals his fangs. A quick downward thrust of his head severs the would be killer’s artery as Daemon’s teeth part his flesh like butter. Daemon feeds, drawing up the warm life from his quivering body.

It is the geas of his kind. The need to feed coupled with the Edict. It is a delicate balancing act to both protect these people, while they were also his only food source.

That he had once been a cop sometimes made things easier now. For instance, how to make this body look like a bear mauling and still leave enough evidence for forensics.

Shortly after Daemon’s untimely demise he had been awakened in this new body by a priest. His first words to Daemon were “You have been chosen”. It took a while to fully understand his next, “you have a new mission in life; to protect the world and its inhabitants from Evil. You are Daemon”.

[Dateranoth]

I really liked it. The ending was a twist I hadn't expected. Sorry to hear it didn't make the final cut, but I would be interested in more if you have plans to do so.

[Avahra]

I really enjoyed it, you had some nice descriptions in there that gave me chills

[Super Kev]

I'll check it out first thing in the morning .. I'm comin' in guns blazing though!! ha ha .. kidding!

[Pogre]

It reads like something Stephen King or Dean Koontz would write. Spooky and feral. Keep it coming dude.

[Super Kev]

Very nice done!!

[LGWyant]

Thanks a lot guys, it means a lot to me. I have lots of stories that I'm working on, but have to wait until they clear submissions before i print them here. I might start doing what I'm doing with the Charlie Frazier piece though. Print out the first couple of pages then maybe pull it down after it's perfected to work with the last bit. I wish I could find my fav. short story, but sadly it was deleted with a failed hard drive .... basically it was about this kid who had a monster in his closet, then through the story you find out the real monster is his step-dad. It has a twisted ending too I'll try and re-write it when i get the time.