Playing with Fire

Loud debaucherous laughter spilled into the street from a wooden two story building which seemed out of place next to the large crumbling stone architecture of the city. I pressed open two worn cafe doors. The laughter stopped, all eyes starred. Two spirits in the corner leaned into each other and whispered as I passed by. I made my way to the back where a circle of spirits had formed. Two men were locked in gladiator style fighting. A thick rope was tied to each other’s hand, ensuring there was no escape. I remained silent, faking interest in the fight. The ruckus laughter resumed when one of the men was blinded by a stab wound to the face.

"Care for a drink mate?" A cup with some type of dirty liquid was handed to me. I took the cup and drank. As soon as the liquid touched my lips it was gone, like it was never there.

"What's this?" I asked the man who handed me the cup.

"The strongest drink in the land. Go on, drink!" He laughed, tipping a cup to his lip, completely unaware there was nothing in it. Maybe he’d become so habitualized to the process of drinking that he simply didn't know anything else.

"What's your wager?" He asked.

"My wager?"

"The slaves, fighting in the arena," he pointed to the two spirits locked in battle.

"The one who just lost his eyeball, that's mine, worthless piece of garbage! I hate losing, especially to the Duke." He nodded in the direction of a vile spirit, large and ominous ...brooding, standing silent across the circle. "I'm going to lose again! Lose another slave!" The man kicked the chair next to us.

"Can you get another?"

"Oh, I suppose so."

"How?"

"Just take them, like this." The man turned to a patron who was watching next to us and grabbed his neck. "Your next, slave!" The patron resisted, fighting off the attack, but was quickly overcome. The man next to me didn't physically overpower him, his mind was stronger. His willpower to control the slave gave him the strength to do so. "You don't have to hold back. No one will stop you! There are no rules, no police, and no laws. Go ahead, take control, take what's yours."

I turned and looked him over from head to toe. "You mean like this." He dropped to his knees under the weight of my commands. My willpower held him down with the strength of a thousand hands.

"No! Please! Stop!" He cried.

Something inside me changed, became colder, grew darker. The coldness numbed me further, past the mental illness, past the point of caring. I used to fear what people thought of me ... no longer. Justin was right about one thing; I had a spiritual energy that was on steroids. This time, I wasn't shy about using every ounce of it to my advantage. I no longer hid, I stalked. Savagely seeking out new arrivals whose wills were weaker than mine. In no time they would break and I would place my chains around them.

Ten souls for the Reverend's freedom, that's what the doctor said. Edward was the name of the man who handed me that drink, and the first slave I captured. A puke of a man if you ask me and it gave me great pleasure to cause him great pain. In life he had been a swindler. He left his wife and two children for no reason other than he grew tired of them. They were left to fend for themselves while he drained the family’s life savings to spend on excess. Recklessness caught up with him swiftly. He fell in deep debt with the wrong people who saw fit to take him out, but not before he took one of them first. Murder is the sentence that damns the soul to this city of evil. He was guilty of it as much as me, as much as anybody. He argued that it was self-defense. I didn't give a rat’s ass what it was. He was mine now, forever. You can hold a man captive for as long as you have the willpower to do so. My thoughts and evil intentions created the chains that bound him. To him the chains were as real as you would experience them on earth, maybe even more so.

Battles, more like wars, were constantly waged in this city. Soul against soul, groups of souls against groups of souls, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was trying to get ahead so that you didn’t become a slave to someone else and wind up the centerpiece in whatever demented plan they had for you. Groups would vie over territory or some building, much like the gangs of earth fought with one another, an endless cycle of violence. As my cruelty and malicious activities grew, the heavier and more grotesque my appearance became.

Two of my slaves came across a building that I wanted control of. There was no purpose to controlling it. I just learned to crave control and the power it gave me. “Edward, take these two wretches into that building. Make them prove themselves. Do not come out until you’ve cleared it. Understand?”

“What do you suppose is in there, chief?” Edward asked.

“Slaves … now get to it.”

"Yes, master. As you wish.”

I followed behind as we passed underneath the open door. The frame was crooked and bent, enough to drive any good carpenter nuts if they ever saw it. The room was empty other than a shoddy table made from wood scraps and glue; looking like a 4th grade art project. Destitute souls lingered around the place. Some were bunched up in corners and sprawled out on the floor, like they’d given up and lost all hope … easy-peasy. My slaves quickly took control, using unrestrained brutality against the former occupants; just because they could. I entered a second room and saw a man trying to crawl behind a rotted couch and sneak out a broken window.

"Where the hell are you going?” I growled.

“Please sir, I can’t take any more torture. I beg of you. Let me go.” He groveled. It made no difference to me. The last thing I really wanted was another pathetic soul hanging around, crying and whining about this or that, but I had a quota to meet.

“You should have thought of that before you committed the heinous deeds that lead you to cross my path." He crawled to the window and pulled himself up. I imagined steel chains wrapped around him, and that's just what happened. The power of my will created chains that dragged him back across the floor. The pathetic fool began kissing my feet. “You’re a disgrace. Stand up before I break your neck!” I commanded. He rose to his knees.

"Please sir. I'm begging you, show mercy." The grotesque spirit wined.

I placed my boot on his neck, and looked down to gloat over him, pausing with shock and recognition. "Corey. Is that you?" The sight of Corey Fritz lying on the floor, groveling and crying, brought me back to when I was human.

"Oh my God … Will? Will Stark? Oh, thank God. We have to hurry. We have to get out of here."

Conflicting emotions pulled at me in all directions. "Have you seen Allison?" I asked.

"No. She could be anywhere. The realms of hell are so vast, so dark." Corey said.

"You know this guy?" Edward asked. The image of Allison tormented by the demons brought on her by Corey flashed my mind and snapped my feeble sanity.

"Yeah, I do. He's my tenth."

The power in my boot drove Corey's neck into the grimy, blood-stained floor. The snapping of bone echoed throughout the room. My slaves scattered and cowered in fear of my devilish horror. Nobody dared challenge me. Pictures frames shattered and smashed on the ground. Darkness pumped through my veins as I cried for more, releasing a vibration of destruction and evil. I turned on my own slaves, unleashing even crueler torments on them. The building began to shake and crumble.

“Please, let us go! We have to get out of here before it is too late.” One slave cried.

“Silence! You're not getting off that easy.” I screamed.

"I've come to collect." Cruel vibration filled the room.

“You followed me.” I turned.

“Your work is impressive.” The doctor stood in the doorway, holding a chain in his hand, dragging Reverend Channing behind him like a dog on a leash. "Take it. Doctor’s orders.” He held the end of the chain up as an offering. "I'll take what's mine."

Reverend Channing dragged his broken body to my feet. "Thank you, William. I shouldn't have doubted your honor. Allison could see things in you I never could. You've opened my eyes and now I see." Channing and I sidestepped the doctor as he placed chains around my former captives. The terror in their eye's set the stage for revenge. I shivered at the thought, should they ever succeed in freeing themselves and coming after me.

"What now, William?" The Reverend asked.

"While we were separated, I met someone who can help, we must hurry." I guided the Reverend through the maze of city streets to meet with the one who could help.

"I need to rest." The Reverend said.

"We don't have time. We have to press forward."

"Please William, my body, it hasn't fully healed."

We ducked into a building. There were spirits laying on the floor, passed out. They were former addicts, freshly new to the city, not fully detoxed from the poisons that still pumped through their bodies.

"We can rest here. At least until they awaken."

"Thank you, William." The Reverend collapsed to the ground. "I owe you my life."

"But I'm the one that got you into this mess."

"I've seen the errors I've made only because you've opened my eyes to them, William. I let them push me around and control me. I wasn't strong enough to stop it. I wasn't strong enough to stand up for myself and my family." Reverend Channing sobbed. "There's power in you, William. Help me find forgiveness. I'm begging for it. Help me find my daughter." The Reverend reached out and squeezed my hand. I couldn't look him in the eye. One of the spirits began moving slowly on the ground.

"We must get going."

I helped Reverend Channing to his feet. My soul felt heavy. His love reached out to me, I pushed back with all my might. We were back in the city streets, making our way towards the only one who could help when a dark mist rolled in like a bad fog.

"Hurry, he's just around this corner." The Reverend and I turned into an ally between two buildings.

"I think that's him." I said. The fog making it difficult to see.

"Yes, I see someone, through the mist. Are you sure it's safe?" Reverend Channing asked, before terror grabbed hold. "Oh God William! It's the doctor, run!"

Channing turned to flee. The chain attached to his neck clanged wildly on the ground creating a furious display of orange sparks. I turned to run, catching up to the Reverend and grabbing the end of the loose chain. I pulled hard, knocking him to the ground. I stood over the fallen, placed my foot upon his chest and looked into the eyes of the deceived.

"You're not going anywhere." I turned to the grinning doctor who stood behind me, holding out the end of the chain. "He's all yours."

The bony doctor snapped and bowed his head, a symbol formed at my feet. The ground splintered open; I fell.

Evil and sin are weights that grow heavy and finally pull you down. Betrayal is one of the worst; I saw it in Channing's eyes as I fell into a realm of eternal black ... the most oppressive state of hell imaginable.

“Get up!” A voice commanded; its forcefulness knocked me back down to the ground before I could reach my feet. I got up, ready to demolish whomever dared knock me down. On top of a chariot pulled by a demonic beast rode evil, fierce and powerful. It had no form. Mist of black. A void of terror.

"Demon." I said before a whip lashed out, striking me across both cheeks.

“Please, I'm begging for your mercy. Stop!” The beatings came harder each time I cried out to my abuser. “Please, master, I'm a willing slave. I was sent by the doctor."

"Then you completed the ritual." The awfulness of its voice shaking me to the core.

"Yes. I'll do anything to avoid the torments of this place, to have them lessened."

"You're a coward." The demon laughed. "But then again, most acts of betrayal are acts of cowardice." I hung my head.

"The doctor, he serves you, he said you could teach me to be powerful."

"Nothing is free. You must prove yourself worthy to serve me before I'll accept any plea bargain." The mist dissolved, giving way to physical form. The demon raised his face to look at me, half covered by a hood. Gray smoke steamed from its eye sockets.

"How?" I asked.

“Possession.”

“What?”

“You must will yourself back to the earth plane and possess a human soul.”

“How?”

A whip pierced and wrapped around my torso. Broken mangled skeletal wings raised out of the demon's shoulder blades. “Figure it out!” A vile screech cut my ear. The demon flung me in the air with great force. I landed heavily back in the city I had been in before. Ashamed. Broken. Alone.

***

Unrelenting pressure pounding me into a frenzy. I had to return to earth at all cost. Pain the motivator, suffering, the driving force. Failing my new master was not something I wanted to experience. I sold Channing out, an unpardonable sin. Every soul in hell is faced with the same harsh truth, serve the demons, or become the whipping boy. I did the right thing.

I wandered the city streets, terrified of what lay beneath, until I walked past a church. Something compelled me to go inside. Maybe it was the look on the Reverend's face when I pulled the knife out his back. This church made the Puritans look like the Communion of Saints, reminding me of the mega churches that broadcast their services on national television every Sunday morning. The priests inside seemed to keep one hand in the offering plate and the other on the backsides of their parishioner's wives.

"What's your name, son?"

"William."

"What brings you here?" The priest asked. His gaunt face looked bored and tired, like he’d asked that question a million times and lost all passion for the job.

"Knowledge, spiritual knowledge." I spoke.

"You've come to the right place. What do you seek to gain?" He wrinkled his brow, faking interest.

I hesitated before speaking. "I'm going to return to earth."

The priest smiled a toothless grin. "You know that can't happen. Not until the second coming. Then, he will lift us up and guide us to his kingdom." No conviction lived behind his words. No belief, only lip service and repetition.

"Where do I begin father, to find forgiveness?" I asked.

The priest handed me an offering plate, gesturing for me to place something inside. I reached in my pocket and pulled out my heart. The charm meant for Allison, and placed it on the soft velvet bottom of the golden offering plate.

"This is a start young man."

"Surely, I can't buy my way to forgiveness?"

"You must be baptized, study scripture, and pay your tithe."

"I was baptized. I studied the entire Bible as part of my confirmation class. I even gave ten percent of my allowance to our church. My mother made me. I still ended up in hell."

"Repentance." The priest said.

"I met a man here. He was a rapist. Vile and disgusting. He went to church every Sunday. He repented on his death bed. He became my slave." My penetrating stare told the priest I wasn't buying his dogmatic philosophy.

We exchanged icy glances before he got up and left. I stayed in the pew for a long time, thinking about all that had passed. The church wasn't for me. Old worn-out dogma only served to slow me down. I opened the front door to leave and caught the priest out of the corner of my eye. He was placing the charm, my charm, around the neck of a church member's wife. It took all I had to quell the urge to strike him down. The memory of what the charm stood for only brought me feelings of being human. Feelings I couldn't afford to have. A luxury not meant for me.

I clung to the shadows and alleys of the city, wandering aimlessly, unsure of my next move. I stumbled into some sort of library, mainly to avoid a group of angry spirits heading my way. The space was small and dirty. Books were strewn about and placed on shelves in no particular order. The same symbols I’d seen in the basement of the Gateway lab and Corey’s house were engraved onto the covers of the books.

I walked around the entire collection. Books on every subject of torture known to man, filled dusty shelves. Every book of evil ever written must have landed in this library. I didn't need torture. I needed something more. I remembered Monika talking about using chants, innovations, and prayers to summon protection during her communications with spirits. I wondered if such a thing could raise a devil such as I.

A withered hand holding a tattered book reached out. "You're looking for this." The quiet voice of an old woman spoke. I squinted my eyes and stared into hers. I took the book and looked it over. "You're going to need help with that. You possess great power but haven't the discipline to master it. There's a black magician who makes his home in this city. He is powerful. He can help."

I held the book in my hand, nodded at the old woman, and left. "I wouldn't go see him if I were you." She called out. I was puzzled, unsure why she would give me the book and tell me not to use it. "I know what you're up to and it ain't good. Believe me, it ain't. Horrors worse than anything known in this city await those who attempt possession." The old woman warned. My corner lip lifted revealing a stained jagged tooth. An evil half-smile to assure her I was in charge.

I left the library and made my way to the magician’s shop at the edge of the city. Nobody bothered me. A few red eyes appeared from the alleyways but nothing dared strike. I looked back once; a trail of dark energy followed my footsteps like a phantom mist. I paused to look up upon arrival. A crooked sign hung above a wooden door but I couldn’t make out the language. The magician’s shop was a mirror image of the palm reader I had met with on earth, Marla Williams, only this hovel was foul and depraved. The air owned uneasiness upon entering.

“What do you want?” A low gruff voice growled from behind the counter.

“I seek knowledge.”

“Good for you. Now get the hell out!”

“How do I return to earth?” I demanded.

“Fool!” He cried releasing a foul heckle. “There is no going back. You’re damned in case you didn’t realize it already.” He continued laughing for several seconds. I stood my ground and didn’t budge.

“There is a way, temporarily, to return,” a voice from the corner of the room made itself known. “I know what you're hunting.” A shadow moved from the corner to the middle of the wall. The book I held in my hand burned to the touch.

“Tell me,” I commanded. The shadow instantaneously appeared directly in front of me. It was transparent and had no distinguishing features, nothing resembling humanity. Its voice sounded like gravel being ground to dust.

“You must be summoned by a mortal with a mind and soul as wretched and twisted as yours.” The shadow's breath reeked of decay and disease.

“By the looks of it I would say you’re out of luck. There is no mortal as repugnant as yourself.” The shopkeeper scoffed. I ignored his heckling and focused solely on the shadowy figure.

“Let’s pretend then. Say there was such a monster roaming the earth. What would I need to do?”

“Set your mind to it. Send out your thoughts and wishes to be brought up. Create a spiritual connection with the mortal. If they take the proper steps and perform the proper rituals you will be drawn to them. Like attracts like in this great and vast universe. It takes tremendous focus and willpower to pull this off. It’s not for the faint of heart.” The shadow instructed me.

“Impossible, he’s too pathetic!” The shopkeeper let out a hideous laugh.

“Save your opinions for yourself.” I said, turning to walk away.

“My payment!” The shopkeeper demanded.

“Payment! You didn’t give me anything!”

“You were told secrets!” He cried. “You owe a debt!”

“Tell you what. My payment is that I won’t grind you into a pile of dust right here.”

The decrepit shopkeeper lunged for me. I was stronger and held him at bay, wrapping steel chains around him with dark intention. The shadowy figure stood and watched, not making a sound. Unfiltered evil poured off of him, compelling the shopkeeper to choke and cough violently. His body dropped to the floor and laid motionless. I didn’t stick around to see what was next.

The difficult and lonely process had begun. It took months, or at least what I would think of as months, I really didn’t know. Searching for a human with a soul as dark and twisted as mine had left me exhausted and unable to fend off my attackers.

Beatings and torment fueled the rage to prevail. Perseverance grows from struggle. That’s what coach used to say, finally, one of his cliché’s paid off. With acute intention I focused my powerful will on being summoned to earth. Meditation brought a mass of dark energy which appeared far above me, growing larger as it drew near. A bony, skeleton like hand reached out of the black void and pulled me in. I hurled through space much like being pulled down to hell. Within seconds I stood in a darkened basement. The same symbols I had first seen at Gateway and in Corey’s house were scribbled on the walls surrounding the room. Three people sat in a triangle on the floor humming chants. They wore dark hoods over their heads. They couldn’t see me, but all sensed a malevolent presence was near. All three shook and trembled with fear. I circled around them, staring into each of their faces to warn of my presence. I looked hard into the face of the third. A diabolical grin slowly spread across my mouth. “When you play with fire, you're bound to get burned.” I whispered into Justin’s face.