Daemon (1st person)

[LGWyant]

This is a short story i wrote last year, i recently re-wrote it in 3rd person for a new contest. Let me know what you think, i know this type of viewpoint is usually reserved for comics, but i felt like it might work here too.

Daemon by LGWyant

Fall has truly come to Carlton Park as the cool November breeze sends leaves flittering around the browning grass. Oak and Elm trees that once were proud stood leafless, like penitent worshippers raising their hands to the sky praying for help.

The Pines and Cedars contrastingly seemed to have a heavy coat of needles. They stood over the pathetically bare limbed deciduous like predators grinning at the thought of an easy meal.

This contrast was repeated in the animal world as well. Here and there skittered squirrels and chipmunks, gathering the last remaining nuts and berries, trying to find enough to last the coming winter.

From the shadows a silent predator waited for the perfect opportunity to strike. It slithered from one inky splotch of shadow to another, hiding itself from as much light as possible.

It was this pattern of life that had always dawn you here, and still did. It was also why you were here now. To search for your next prey. In this constant struggle of predator and prey you would always be the predator. It was ordained.

You stalk from the shadows as usual, all of Them oblivious to you presence. A patch of trees here, a bush or two there, with a wooden sign thrown in for good measure. You lived in shadows and silence, they were your sister and brother. Just as surely as your prey was your sustenance.

You taste the scents on the air, and watch Them. The one you were after would be here soon, you felt it.

You see a young boy trailing behind his unobservant father, struggling to keep up. His father wouldn’t even know his precious boy 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 cool breathe, driving people to their cars. It wouldn’t be long till most of Them had gone home.

You stand in deep shadows behind a thicket as a middle-aged woman and her daughter come into view. The woman looked to be in her forties with graying black hair. She was small in build and wore a black shawl around her shoulders to keep warm. Her daughter might have been twelve or thirteen. She had raven back hair and piercing green eyes. She wore denim jeans and used a letterman jacket, the kind with the suede sleeves, to keep warm.

They sat on a bench about three feet to your left, presumably to watch the spectacular sunset the park was known for. Your assumption is confirmed as your keen ears pick up their conversation.

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

“Don’t worry darlin’,” she reassures her daughter as she brings out a thermos from her large purse.

You can even tell the brand of hot chocolate she has, your nose is so strong.

“How can you saw that,” the daughter says not reassured in the least. “You know the predator’s still at large”.

A smile comes to your lips as your prey has now shown itself to you. Excitement coils your muscles as you prepare to strike, waiting for the opportune moment. No matter how many times you’ve gone through this, it’s this anticipation that’s always the worst. The last final moments before your body tells you it’s the best time for the attack. This must be perfection, you want it to be just as you had imagined. A split second too early and all could be for not. 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 worry.

“Don’t worry so much,” she heard her mother say. “I have a radio. Joe and the guys can be here in less than two minutes if I needed them”.

The last part of the statement wasn’t even fully over when the thing Becca had been dreading materialized seemingly out of nowhere. He was just as bad as she had pictured 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 mothers arm trying to get her to move. The dread Becca felt mounted with increasing intensity. The survival instinct warring 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 seemed to wait politely for someone to answer before stepping forward again. “I told you M’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 you had waited for. As the mother and daughter sprinted past you not looking back, you let the man’s momentum carry himself straight into your arms. He looked at your face and blood red eyes a foot higher than his, and you could hear his heart almost stop in his chest.

The man feebly attempted to struggle. He jabs with the knife, breaking the tip on your 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 your rage must still be controlled. You can almost feel the fear emanating from the man triple as your gruesome smile reveals your fangs. A quick downward thrust of your head severs the would be killer’s artery as your teeth part his flesh like butter. You feed, drawing up the warm life from his quivering body.

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

You had once been one of them, a cop in fact. That 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 your untimely demise you had been awakened in this new body by a priest. His first words to you 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 it’s inhabitants from Evil. You are a Daemon”.

[Avahra]

Love it.

[LGWyant]

thanks avahra

[LGWyant]

ok, there's 30 views and only avahra commented. Seriously, didn't like it? didn't understand something? let me know. Thats how i know what works in the general public.