HELENA’S DEMON
Charisma
Knight
Copyright
© 2015
Prologue
Silas Taylor held back his
emotions and his fear as he closed the circle. “I’m going straight to hell,” he
blurted as he stared into the flames of the pillar candles.
He barely paid attention to the
she-thing rustling in the woods as she tried striking a bargain with him in
addition to the bargain he sought with Barius . In
return, the she-demon lurking in the woods would assist him in gaining power
over Barius one day.
He’d knowingly let darkness
into his life. It stalked him. Called out his name, making him seek things no
righteous human man should ever want to lay claim to.
His visions of the future
haunted him. A young witch of twenty-eight, he was gifted with the power of
sight. His vision had always extended far into the future. The faces of his
future family members were as clear as if they stood right in front of him.
Over the years, his visions of
the vile, cruel things he’d do in order to gain the power he sought had
increased. The face of an innocent young woman from a distant future loomed
within his mind. Oh what he’d do to his entire line. He hoped it wouldn’t come
to that, but if Barius insisted, he’d have no other
choice.
Just in case, he’d set into
motion a plan for his future generation as he mentally communicated with the
she-demon in the woods. His future family would literally walk through hell on
earth as they paid the price for his actions. He knew from this night on, his
deeds would cause a disturbing ripple effect over those he’d never meet. That
was the best part of it all, he kept telling himself. He’d never meet them.
Death would claim him and he’d be free. Well, as free as a man turning his soul
over to darkness could be.
To Silas, his soul was already
lost and this last feat would only reinforce that. With every thought and
emotion over the years, he’d let the darkness slip in, first a little at a
time. Eventually, it increased, until it became a vital point in his life. His
soul was now poisoned, filled with a vile, inky-black mark.
Almost hypnotized by the pull
of the full, blood-red moon, he reflected upon his life. Voices from a black
abyss called to him. Night after night, he wrestled with the whispering in his
head. They’d insisted he take matters into his own hands. But they also warned
him there would be a hefty penalty to pay.
Soon he’d be in control of his
life. Not his overseer, or the Caucasian woman who now
refused to have anything to do with him. He loved her dearly, but to her, he
was a simple slave with no power. To make matters worse, he’d been cast out
among his people. To them, he was nothing more than a traitor and a witch.
Silas’s fists tightened and his pulse raced. He’d change it all.
It was a shame things had to
come to this. Telling himself he no longer cared of the consequences, he opened
the black leather book and chanted a summoning spell. As Silas chanted, a death
chill slid up his spine, to the base of his skull. Something, perhaps some
inkling of good that lingered within him, warned him to cease this madness.
Perhaps he could take another path instead of the coward’s way out?
No, he wouldn’t hear of it. The
black shadow within overpowered the good, demanding that he carry on. In his
head danced visions of a life filled with love and respect. Not fear and shame.
He caught a whiff of fire and
brimstone, and as soon as he completed the spell, a dark shadow rose outside
the circle, looming over him. Yellowish eyes peered into his soul, and the
entity smiled, flashing jagged white teeth. “I see your desires lurking in your
soul.” The demon, Barius , spoke in a deep, raspy
tone.
The beast exhaled, and the
atmosphere around Silas became dense. He inhaled but was unable to breathe
comfortably. He tried to stand, but an unseen force pushed him to his knees. Claws
tightened around the back of his neck as he was forced to bow
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