Copyright

 

VITRIAN SECRETS

 

The Healing Méndez

 

 

 

Dele Andersen

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright

Copyright © 2017 by Dele Andersen All rights reserved.

This publication or any part of it cannot and should not be distributed, reproduced or transmitted in any form, nor by any means. This includes photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher. However, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

 

This story is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, names, scenario and places are products on the author’s imagination and fantasy. No part of the novel is real, and none is written specifically to describe any known or existing incidence. Names that might look the same or situations and locations that might match are coincidental.

 

Editor – Tamara Hart Heiner

 

Cover Design – Miblart

 

 

 

 

 

Books by Dele Andersen

Vitrian Secrets – The Healing Méndez (Boo 1)

Vitrian Secrets – The Chosen Unveiled (Book 2)

Vitrian Secrets – The Curse Awakened (Book 3)

Vitrian Secrets – The Unexpected Arrival (Book 4)

 

Coming Soon

Vitrian Secrets – The Chosen and The Curse (Book 5)

Vitrian Secrets – The Prophecy (Book 6)

 

Prequel to Vitrian Secrets

Dele Andersen

Onslaught 1

Onslaught 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Howbeit this kind goeth not but by prayer and fasting.

Matthew 17:21

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

Prologue

 

Pandemonium took over Celina's existence as she hurried down a set of steps in her pajamas, panting, a little boy in her arms. Although it was in the middle of the cold Scandinavian winter, running with the boy was enough to make Celina sweat. She sweated profusely as apprehension took her over.

“What is it, Mama?” The little boy watched as his mother placed him on the steps.

Her hand shook like she had an intense fever as she tried to open the door to their winter holiday home.

Fear crept across the boy's face like Celina had infected him with a disease. “We should go back to Papa!”

Celina ignored her son, knowing he couldn't understand what was about to befall him. She closed her eyes and said a brief prayer, nothing more than muttering words of, “Help, God, help!”

She turned the knob to the door again, but it didn't move.

“Oh, God!” Terrified, she tried using her slim body to force it open.

Suddenly her son screamed. She turned to see a woman snatching him up.

“No, no!” Celina screeched like a wild woman and rushed back toward the steps to get her son. A man stepped out of the shadows and prevented her from reaching him.

“Celina, can't you see that even your prayers are useless?” the man said scornfully. His face and upper body were covered by the shadows, but she could see he wore a pair of long, light brown trousers. “If they weren’t . . . you wouldn't have come here for winter break. I planned this long before now, and you cannot stop it.”

“No,” Celina said. “You are crazy.” She hit the man with her hands, but her fists had barely any impact on his broad chest. “I beg you, don't do this!” She sobbed the words out amid uncontrollable tears.

“You are lucky, Celina; that's why I'm not going to burn you along with Adrian.”

Celina raised her head at his words. He pushed her aside before she could object; she staggered backward and hit the wall.

“Adrian is only a little boy; he knows nothing of the prophecy,” Celina said, pleading for her child's life.

“Celina, you'll have another child.” The man looked back, his lips twitching like he was going to smile. “You know, I didn’t give the other parents this option—I killed them along with their children.”

“But you can't prove Adrian is The Chosen one, can you?” Celina said.

“Adrian has the traits of The Chosen in his blood, and that is enough for me. The Chosen and those with their traits must die.”

The deep venom in his voice shocked Celina. He finished speaking, took a few steps, and disappeared back into the room.

“Don't do this!” Celina rushed behind him.

The instant she stepped into the room, her heart skipped a beat. Adrian floated three feet up in midair, still dressed in his pajamas. Below him a big circle was drawn on the floor, and in the center of the circle was a pentagon, with several other symbols within it. A bluish light radiated from the circle to the roof of the room; it was the only light in the room.

“Sorcery!” Celina's eyes widened in disbelief of what this man, who she knew very well, had gotten into. “She has poisoned your mind; this is not you!” Celina shouted, pointing to a woman wearing a long red cloak.

Celina's heart palpitated. Furious, she sweated even in this empty room with no heat in it.

“Mama,” her son cried, struggling to get free from the force that had him levitated. He could only wriggle his body where he hung in midair.

Celina rushed toward him, but a forcefield a few inches from the circle pushed her back.

“Don't! Don't!” Celina shook her head and turned to the other woman. She was desperate to save her child.

“Sir.” The woman looked up.

“There shall be no more chosen’ prophecy. I shall end it even if it means ending my lineage,” the man said. He looked at the woman with a determined gaze. His pupils flashed like something else was in his eyes. "Do it!"

The woman opened her palm, and a stone-like object appeared. She said something in a strange, ancient-sounding, language; then a fire erupted from the object, burning upward out of the woman's palm.

"No!" Celina screamed and rushed to stop whatever evil the woman was conjuring.

The man caught her before she could get to the woman and threw her back. Celina slid backward and stopped by the door, her legs and hands bruised.

She ignored the pain, the bruises, and the lacerations on her skin. Celina swiveled back to face her son; the trauma of losing Adrian overwhelmed her. She watched with grave dismay as the man took the stone from the woman and threw it.

Celina screeched like a woman who had lost her senses. The stone burned with an unusual dark fire as it moved in slow motion toward the circle where Adrian was trapped. The entire area within the circle burst into flames. Adrian screamed as the dark fire burned him.

Celina rushed again to the circle and tried to get to Adrian, but the forcefield prevented her. She hit it and screamed with all her strength, but nothing happened. Celina turned to the man and rushed toward him, yelling wildly and ready to tear him apart, but the huge man pushed her back. She fell to the floor like a bag of bones. Celina shrieked, hitting the invisible shield and wailing.

She continued to hit the invisible wall blocking her from her son. Her contact with reality and life slipped away as she wailed.

Celina suddenly came back to reality and realized she was the only one left in the room. She got up and wobbled toward the door of the room. She fell outside, unable to watch her son in the horrific scene; she couldn't hear the boy anymore, only the crackling sound of the burning flames. She covered her ears, squeezed her body together on the ground with her knees bent toward her face, and wailed bitterly.

Marcus. His little daughter came to her mind, and quickly Celina searched for her phone.

"Marcus, Marcus," she said. She knew Marcus' daughter would be another target for the man.

“Celina?” Marcus answered immediately, sounding alert.

“He . . . he . . . did it,” Celina blubbered amid the tears. “He burned Adrian!”

“What?” Marcus spoke too loudly.

“He is coming for The Chosen and any other child who shows traits of The Chosen,” Celina said. Tears gushed like heavy rain from her eyes. “You have to get your daughter away, hide Wanda—”

“Wanda?” Marcus repeated. “Wanda is safe—”

Marcus broke off, and the sound of a baby’s cry carried through the phone.

“Go check on Wanda, quickly,” Celina said. She knew the baby was Marcus’s daughter.

“Sofia, we need to check on Wanda.” Celina heard Marcus talking to his wife.

A weird sound came from behind Celina. She jumped and turned to face the room where Adrian had been. She screamed, staring through the open door.

“Celina, Celina!” Marcus called.

She barely heard him. She was staring at something else in the room. She lowered the phone and backed up.

The room was ablaze. The fire had moved outside the circle and different from the previous dark flame that burnt Adrian. The new fire radiated from a tall, massive creature. The beast’s deep red eyes stared at Celina.

She swallowed hard, knowing the fire must have consumed Adrian and unleashed a demon never seen before from the Abyss. The creature took a step, leaped, and crashed through the doorframe; the brick, the wood, and everything around the door gave way. It stood in front of Celina, and she squealed in trepidation.

∞∞∞

“Celina, Celina!” Marcus shouted her name, but there was no response after her scream. He pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it in his hand. Why had Celina screamed so loud? He was already up from his bed and on his way to join his wife, Sofia, who had rushed to their little daughter’s room.

Another scream followed as Marcus looked at the phone, but this time, it was Marcus' wife. Sofia ran from the baby’s room, carrying their daughter Wanda in her arms. Marcus saw horror in his wife’s eyes as she hurried to his side. A massive, almost eight-foot-tall, bat-like, disfigured demon crashed after Sofia, making Marcus turn abruptly. The demon’s wicked eyes focused on Marcus and Sofia before settling on Wanda.

"The Night Furfur!" Sofia cried.

Before the beast could move, Marcus pulled out a massive machete with a symbol engraved on it from the wall beside him; the logo denoted healing to humans but death to demons. The symbol sparkled as Marcus launched at the creature.

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 1

 

Chapter 1

 

Students trooped out of their classrooms the instant the bell went off. Wanda stepped out of the school with her friend Tutu, talking about plans she had for the summer holiday.

“This is going to be a wonderful summer!” Wanda shouted, elated that school was over for the semester. She dropped her bag next to her friend's by the steps leading to the school entrance. Students walking by ignored her effervescence, overwhelmed by their own highly spirited mood.

Alfred, the school janitor, stood some distance away with a lawnmower on the newly cut lawn in front of the school. Alfred's hair was long and all over the place, reaching down to his shoulders and covering half his face. He was slightly bent; his head shook constantly and involuntarily like he had a mental disorder that needed to be treated.

"I don't know what you like about Alfred," Wanda's classmate and best friend Tutu said, looking at Alfred.

"Nothing. I just wished someone, or perhaps the school, would help him. I think he’s sick, but everyone says he's done several medical checkups, and he's okay."

“Anyway,” Tutu said, turning back to Wanda. “What did you say you'll be doing during the holidays?”

“We are off to Paris next week,” Wanda said, not disturbed by the number of times she had explained this to Tutu. “I'm so looking forward to it!”

“I really want you to come with me to camp.” Tutu looked discouraged.

“I know! Tutu.” Wanda studied her best friend for a moment, looking at her brown-skinned complexion and gorgeous face. “I know I keep reneging on my promises; I'll try next holiday to come to your camp. It's a real promise this time.”

“And I hope this is not a way of running off and making sure I can’t be part of your seventeenth birthday?” Tutu said.

“My birthday is months away.” Wanda replied. “I am not running away from school. It is just a summer holiday in Paris. I will be back before resumption. Why do you think I wouldn’t come back to school?”

“Yeah.” Tutu rolled her eyes. “That’s how you disappeared on your sixteenth birthday and said it was so…”

“I know.” Wanda said. Her eyes showed they had spoken about it several times and she was frustrated apologizing to Tutu about her sixteenth birthday. “My mum gave Jason and I a special trip on my sixteenth birthday and flew us away to Malta. I promise you my seventeenth birthday is not going to be like that, and I am inviting everyone.”

“You better.”

Wanda looked behind Tutu, and suddenly her expression changed as she saw the boy she had been observing in her school for some weeks.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Wanda said without hesitation. She tried to ignore the painful cramp nibbling at her stomach. Tutu opened her mouth, but Wanda spoke before she could. “Have you seen that guy around here before?” Her stomach relaxed from its twisted knot when she asked the question.

Tutu turned around, then turned back to her friend. “Who exactly are you talking about? Practically the entire school is out here, girl!” Tutu rolled her eyes.

“That boy.” Wanda tried not to point. She raised her hand and then quickly withdrew it. Tutu turned again as Wanda added, “The blond boy in the denim jacket resting against the wall over there.”

“Oh, him . . . Eric,” Tutu said with a slight hiss. “Is that why you were ducking like your heart was going to—”

“I wasn't ducking.” Wanda suddenly became brisk.

“Yes, you were.”

“No, I was not.”

“You were.” Tutu's voice was soft but firm. “So admit it.” She smiled, teasing Wanda.

“Well, I noticed him a few weeks ago, and he seems to stare at me a lot . . .” Wanda broke off, not wanting Tutu to tease her any further.

Tutu was already all smiles. “Seriously, it has nothing to do with any feelings of affection.” Her expression instantly turned uncomfortable, like she had lied.

"Okay, and how would you know?" Wanda stared at Tutu, wanting to hear more about this Eric boy. She knew Tutu very well, and she could see the discussion had made her friend nervous.

"Well." Tutu shrugged. "I know his name is Eric," she admitted. "He's not really in this school, and he's kind of weird." She turned back toward Eric, who was now looking away.

“You still haven't told me how you know his name,” Wanda pried.

“Monica . . . Monica told me last week. She saw him on the school premises.”

"You see, I’m not the only one who noticed him." Wanda was secretly elated not to be the only one inquiring about Eric.

“Yes, but Monica didn't duck like you did when she told me about him.”

“I didn't duck,” Wanda said defensively.

“Yeah, right.”

“Okay, so how did you know his name?”

“Monica, of course,” Tutu said. “Monica walked up to him and asked for his name and number. You know how she can be.” Tutu winked.

“Ah, Monica!” Wanda exclaimed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes like Monica was a rare alien breed she could never understand.

“Petter is here,” Tutu said. Her face lit up with a smile, though Wanda saw how she tried to hide it.

“Petter,” Wanda echoed, wondering why Tutu mentioned Petter's name so affectionately. She turned to see Petter dressed in a pair of jeans and a polo T-Shirt. His blond hair was low and perfectly cut; it looked like he had just stepped out of the salon. He stood about three inches taller than Wanda.

“Hi, Petter,” Wanda said as he walked over to join the two girls.

“Hi. Monica told me I would find you girls here.”

Tutu glared at him as he spoke. Wanda noticed Tutu's expression, but she ignored it. As far back as she could remember, Tutu had secretly liked Petter, but for some reason Wanda did not understand, Tutu never wanted Petter around them.

“What are you girls planning for the summer holiday?”

“And why do you care to know?” Tutu jibed, fixing her eyes on Petter.

Wanda turned again to check if Eric was still staring, but he had left.

“Tutu!” Wanda said in a warning tone when she heard the rudeness in Tutu's voice.

“Why doesn't he tell us his plans? Why ask for ours?” Tutu complained.

Wanda was about to apologize to Petter when he answered.

“I won’t be doing much. I’ll be around the city.”

“Well, Tutu invited me to her—” Wanda began.

“No.” Tutu butted in instantly, stopping Wanda from mentioning her invitation to the camp. “Wanda is traveling with her mum and brother.”

Wanda looked at Tutu and wondered what was going on. Tutu was freaking out unnecessarily about the camp invitation. Tutu once told her not to mention the camp to anyone or even tell them she had invited her.

“Oh, seriously?” Petter looked surprised. “You’re leaving the city? Where are you going?”

“What is wrong with everyone?” Wanda said. “I'm not running away; it's summer break.”

“Why do you want to know?” Tutu gave Petter a haughty look.

Wanda saw the look Tutu gave Petter and understood it. Tutu was trying to make his moment with them as uncomfortable as possible.

“Just curious,” Petter said, ignoring Tutu's efforts to frustrate him. He turned to Wanda for an answer.

“Paris.” Wanda smiled.

“All the way to Paris. That's not out of town. That’s out of the country. You’re leaving Norway.” Petter's surprise was evident in his expression. “I thought you'd be around, like other summer holidays.”

“My mum told me several times she and my dad met there. I'm interested in seeing the city of love, as they call it, and the Eiffel Tower—” She broke off when Petter interrupted.

“Okay, see you.” He was already a few steps away.

“That was quick,” Wanda said with a frown. She usually enjoyed Petter’s company.

“Isn't that what they do? Boys!” Tutu whined. “They show up and rush off again.”

“What is with you and Petter?” Wanda said. She stared at her best friend with a cunning smile.

“What?” Tutu turned away from gazing after Petter till he disappeared into the crowd.

“The way you seem to hate him . . .”

“Oh, if I could get him off you . . . he's always partnering up with us every time there's group work—”

“That's not what I mean.” Wanda's sneaky smile was evident as she raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“So what are you saying?” Tutu said fiercely. “You are the one he's always trying to talk to.”

“You seem to like him.” Wanda's smile broadened.

“What!” Tutu exclaimed.

Wanda held her smile. “You seem to have this ‘I like you’ kind of hatred for him—but . . .” Wanda broke off.

“But what?”

“I don't know. You seem to always want him around, but when he comes, you are always attacking him, pushing him off.”

“If I had my way, I would break his legs so he'd stop disturbing us.” Tutu scowled.

“Okay, forget it.” Wanda backed off, knowing Tutu could be very defensive when it came to how she felt about Petter. “I know you can break his legs. By the way, Petter is an orphan, so stop stressing him like everyone in school does.”

“I have to go.” Tutu stole one more glance behind her.

Wanda, who had looked up toward Alfred, noticed he was soliloquizing where he stood some distance away by the road.

“I can't believe Alfred talks alone in the open when people are around. It's weird, isn't it?

“Yes, it is,” Tutu replied, looking in Wanda's direction.

“I really wish he could get better treatment, you know,” Wanda grumbled. “Sometimes, I feel bad that Alfred can't be given better . . .”

“Are you all right?” Tutu asked as her voice trailed off.

Wanda's tone and speech slurred as if her tongue had suddenly become heavy. “I am . . . I'm sure that man wasn't there before . . .”

“What man?” Tutu turned toward Alfred.

“The man in the shiny yellow raincoat with the hood pulled over his head. I wonder why he's wearing that in the summer.”

“What man?” Tutu looked bewildered.

“That huge man.” Wanda pointed straight toward Alfred. Why couldn’t Tutu see the man?

The open field in front of the school had started clearing. Only a few students were left; most had been picked up by their parents or left with the first batch of school buses.

“Alfred is talking to himself. What other man are you talking about?”

Wanda froze for a few seconds, her heart palpitating intensely. She looked at the person next to Alfred who Tutu could not see. As she gazed at him, she saw him better. He was huge; the width of his shoulder was unusually wide, with one side bent low in comparison to the other, a very wacky twist that would have made it impossible for a normal man to stand up straight. The man, or thing, or whatever it was, turned, and immediately it occurred to Wanda that it had a back carved in a wide-angle, making a big concave shape inside the yellow raincoat he wore.

“You know, it's funny what they say.” Tutu spoke out loud, concern in her voice. “Things we see are made of things we cannot see.”

Wanda jerked awake from her daydream of staring and studying the man. Tutu’s statement reminded her of her late father. It was a constant statement from him: “Things that we see are made of things we cannot see.”

Unexpectedly, the last words her father spoke to her and her brother flashed back in her memory, a warning her father had given them like he knew this day would come. He had looked them straight in the eyes as he advised them late in the night before she and her brother went to bed.

“On the day you see what others cannot see or you smell what no one can smell . . .” Marcus said to his children as they stared at him in amazement of the beautiful tales he shared about fighting beasts and how to overcome them.

“What will happen on that day, Dad?” Jason, Wanda's brother, asked, with all his senses intensely attentive to his dad, like a flower experiencing the rising sun in the morning.

“On that day.” Marcus smiled. Beneath the beautiful smile, Wanda noticed a warning. “You run with all your strength.”

“Oh, but Dad,” Jason protested in disappointment. “I thought we were supposed to fight them, like in your stories.”

“You know they are only stories, Jason,” their mum, Sofia, said, standing by the door with her shoulder against the doorpost.

Their father only smiled at Jason. He turned to Wanda, who was concentrating as intensely as her brother. “Remember when that day comes, Wanda . . . you run!”

Marcus didn't have to explain that the things he said were not ordinary stories. Wanda could see in her father's eyes that he was earnest about the fact that she should run.

Remembering her father’s words, Wanda shook her head to clear her vision of the memory. She turned away from Tutu and looked at Alfred. She was shocked to see Alfred was gone, but the thing in the yellow raincoat was still there. It now stared directly at her. Where his face was supposed to be was only a black hollow space covered by the hood of the raincoat, like whatever was underneath the raincoat had no face or eyes.

“Run!”

Wanda heard her father's voice in her head. She turned and began to rush back up the steps that led to the school entrance. She left her backpack at the bottom of the steps where she had stood while talking to Tutu.

“Wanda! Wanda!” Tutu shouted, rushing after her friend. She raced to catch up with Wanda just as Wanda stepped into the school. “What is it? Why do you look so scared?” Tutu asked in a frightened voice. She grabbed Wanda's arm, pulling her back.

“You—you wouldn't understand, Tutu. I have to find Jason right away.”

Tears gathered behind Wanda’s eyes, collating and ready to drop at any moment. Wanda knew Tutu could see the trepidation on her face, but Tutu could not help her.

“Is it Alfred? He’s gone. I saw him walk away.”

Tutu's words came out in a rush.

“Tutu, let go of me.” Wanda yanked her arm away. “It isn't Alfred—I mean, it's Alfred, but—”

“What are you saying? It’s not Alfred, and then it is. We can call the school authorities.” Tutu watched her confused friend. “I can get help.”

“Tutu.” Wanda wanted to tell her no one could help now, but instead she ignored Tutu and ran farther into the school.

Tutu took a few steps toward Wanda, shouting her name. Like something occurred to her, she abruptly stopped. She changed direction and ran back outside.

Wanda ran the length of the main hallway and took a turn at the corner. She narrowly missed colliding with a boy and girl who were talking, standing remarkably close to each at the edge of the corner. The girl screamed when she saw Wanda racing toward them. They watched as she raced to the end of the hallway.

Wanda got to the classroom where she expected her brother to be, but it was empty. She rushed to the next classroom, knowing the school had two classes for each grade. She stepped into the classroom, but again it was empty.

She panted heavily like her heart was going to drop out of her body. She said to herself, Think, Wanda, think!

Then she remembered Jason wanted to take a look at some books in the library and see if he could borrow them for the summer holidays.

She moved out of the classroom and straight away noticed the most disgusting odor she had ever imagined. With the smell came a very alarming sound, like a rattlesnake signaling its presence to an enemy.

Wanda's entire body paused for a second. She could not fathom what was unfolding. She felt like she was in a dream. Though her faculty fought against her, she couldn't help it; she needed to find out what she was up against. She turned in the direction of the sound.

At the end of the hallway, another three rooms away from her, was the thing she had seen with Alfred, wearing the shiny yellow coat. It now stood in front of an emergency exit door, much closer than when she was outside with Tutu. Without moving her body, she stole a glance behind her. The boy and girl had left, but even if they hadn't, she knew they might not have seen anything at all, because ordinary humans do not see demons.

The demon hissed again, and this time much louder. Wanda jolted in fear, but she didn't move from her position. She calculated her options and planned how to outrun the demon. Wanda turned back to observe the creature, and her eyes revealed more to her. What she had thought was a yellow raincoat was changing; underneath was revealing itself, or maybe her eyes were adjusting. Whichever the case was, Wanda did not wait to find out. She dashed with all the strength back in the direction she had come from.

Her long hair moved from side to side as she ran, and her dark blue skinny jeans molded to her slim body well enough to allow freedom of movement. Wanda turned and saw from the corner of her eyes that the demon had caught up to her. She glimpsed its thin and yellow eyes on the side of its head when it leaped at her. With eyes in that position, she knew it could not see very well except sideways.

She screamed at the sight of the enormous thing about to land on her. She reached the bend in the hallway where the boy and girl had been. She bent down, throwing her knees on the floor to avoid the demon. She slid into the next hallway leading to the main entrance and slammed hard into the wall on the other side. The demon missed, landing on the floor and scrabbling with its talons to get a hold of Wanda as it slid to the other side of the hallway.

Wanda got up quickly, ignoring the pain in her body. She held her left hand to her right elbow. The elbow throbbed, and she knew she had strained her muscles by colliding with the wall.

Three students at the entrance looked back into the hallway. She knew they heard her cry and saw the way she bumped into the wall. She ignored them and hurried to the stairs a few steps from her, knowing the thing would be back at any moment.

She barely stepped into the upper and senior floor of the school building before bumping into the boy called Eric.

“Are you all right?” Eric asked, and she turned to face him with her back against the wall.

The shock of suddenly seeing him and the fear of the thing after her plagued her mind. She froze by the edge of the step and stared at Eric.

“Are you all right?” he shouted again, and his voice brought her back to reality.

She gasped for air, raised her hands, and grabbed at his shoulder as she took in a deep breath. She realized she was gripping him by the arm as she looked back at the stairs, so she released her grip. It was the closest she had been to him, though she had noticed him for a few weeks. His denim jacket was off. He wore a black pair of jeans and a plain blue cotton T-shirt over his slender, muscled body. Wanda could see the veins in his hands, which showed that he had recently exerted himself. Where his T-shirt was tucked into his jeans were several shining, silvery objects. The objects had symbols on them, but Wanda wasn't interested in that at the moment, as the demon flashed back in her memory.

“Yes,” she said, answering him. She gazed directly into Eric's deep blue eyes. Did he wear contact lenses to aid their beauty? For a few seconds, she was lost in his attractive looks, and then she shook her head, forcing her eyes to close and open again. She wasn't going to be carried away by whatever Eric was using to lure her in. Her father had warned her that demons were good at camouflaging as humans, imitating voices and accents when in human form.

Suddenly, she remembered how Eric had stood there staring directly at her and Tutu. Then he was gone, and she saw the man in the yellow coat with Alfred. It made perfect sense to her. There was a connection between Eric and the demon.

At the same moment, she noticed he was panting softly. His chest expanded and contracted, like slowly pumping in and releasing air from a balloon. She guessed he must have had a quick run.

“Who are you?” Wanda asked in a shaky voice, a moment away from crying. She might be standing in front of the demon that had been chasing her.

“That's not the issue now,” Eric replied. His mouth twitched in a funny way, as if shocked she chose to ask that now.

He's only trying to stall you from the truth, she thought.

“You keep following me,” Wanda said, watching him as he looked toward the staircase where she had come from.

He looked back at her while she waited for a response.

“Where is your Praying Méndez?”

“My what?” Wanda said. What was he talking about?

“Your Praying Méndez,” Eric repeated, gazing into her eyes. He continued in a condescending tone, “Or are you planning to tear that demon apart and gain victory with your tiny fingers?”

She pressed on her elbow again, and his eyes followed the gesture.

“How did you know a demon was after me?” Wanda asked. Her voice quivered.

Eric ignored her question and looked down, observing the elbow.

“Did it touch you?” He stretched out his hand to touch her right arm.

She studied him again. He was nothing but a guy, a tough, strong boy that she would let hold her while she wept, making the sudden nightmare she was facing fade away.

She shook her head, cleared the unwanted thoughts away, and pulled her hand back.

“How do you know there is a demon following me? How do you know anything about demons?” she asked.

He ignored her and continued to stare at her like a doctor trying to examine his patient.

“If you don't tell me who you are, I’m going to scream as loud as I can.” A strong feeling told her there was a connection between Eric and the demon after her.

Eric maintained his firm look, his lips dry. He moved his body closer to hers, blocking her on both sides with his hands as his eyes penetrated hers.

She could not believe it, but her heart fluttered at his closeness. She saw his blond hair was actually mixed with brown as he bent, bringing his face closer to hers. His striking features made Wanda's heart throb. The finely sculptured chin looked hard and stern. His lips tightened. Something about his gaze made her uncomfortable, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling; it was more of an affectionate one, which made her even more confused in the mayhem she was in.

He looked rough and ready. His muscles were rigid, revealing he was strong and physically fit. His chest continued to rise and fall in a steady manner that made her feel like placing her hand on it to make sure such a unique and beautiful human was for real.

She was still admiring him when he spoke, this time in a gentle and warning tone.

“Your chances of survival are very slim if any of the demon's talons have touched you.”

For reasons she could not fathom, the warning had an affectionate tone to it, though she could see the seriousness in his blue eyes when he continued.

“Did it touch you?”

His words banished the thought of him having anything to do with the demon chasing her. “No,” she answered, shaking her head while staring at him and not wanting to think about what he meant when he said, Your chances are very slim.

Like two magnetic poles attracted to each other no matter what, they stared at each other. She tried to fight the yearning in her that drew Eric in and the fear of her father's words that pushed him away, warning her he was with the demon that wanted to kill her.

He moved his body closer. Wanda knew she was flushed and hoped she was succeeding in hiding the blushes. Eric moved his head swiftly to the staircase like a spider noticing the faint movement of a fly; Wanda noticed the way he moved with precision. He sniffed the air, his head tilted away from her, his eyes and face hidden from her view.

His head snapped back up, and Wanda’s heart skipped several beats as she noticed his eyes had changed. Her fondness for him disappeared in an instant as trepidation took over. His eyes were no longer the blue ones she had seen previously; they were now cat-like, with golden irises and black pupils and definitely inhuman. She tensed to run, but Eric's hands blocked her on both sides.

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2

 

A wave of hot air that only Wanda could sense swirled around her face the moment she noticed Eric's new eyes. She couldn't fathom how his eyes had suddenly changed. How stupid, standing there talking with the demon that had been chasing her! Before she could think, a scream escaped her mouth as she stared at the unusual eyes.

Eric straightened, and Wanda noticed he was at least six feet tall. He towered over her by about five inches. Frustration showed on his face. She could see as he stretched himself that he was not expecting the scream, and she expected that in a moment, his entire body would change to the horrifying demon she had seen. She pushed his left hand off her and dashed away, taking two steps away from him and the staircase. But he was swifter; he caught up with her on her third step. Pressing closer this time, he placed his elbows on the wall, close to her arms on both sides, and prevented her from escaping. He looked down at her, his gaze serious and intense, their heads almost touching. He bent his hand as Wanda watched him and felt his own forehead. Wanda pressed herself against the wall as much as possible, trying to avoid him and his angry expression.

“You should not have screamed,” he said. His eyes revealed his anger. He drew in a deep breath. She watched him, the blood rushing to her brain. “Don't you know anything?”

Wanda stood there. How could she have been so naive? Eric left when she was outside with Tutu, and the demon appeared beside Alfred, and now the demon left, and suddenly Eric appeared again. I should have figured it out easily. I should have known he was the demon.

“Your scream will only attract trouble,” Eric whispered.

Wanda heard the concern in his voice but she didn't care; screaming was the right reaction.

“You are a—” She started to speak when a teacher stepped out of the library about fifteen feet from them.

“Is everything all right over there?” the teacher asked, looking toward Eric and Wanda.

Wanda turned her head in the teacher's direction, though she kept an eye on Eric. She wasn't sure if the teacher could see him or not. She glanced back at Eric, but his eyes were back to a normal deep sky-blue. She studied him for some seconds, confused. The teacher shrugged and walked back into the library.

Wanda wanted to speak when the horrible smell filled the air again. The odor was more intense than when she was downstairs, like she was standing next to it, and she was certain Eric would at any second transform into the demon.

In the same instant, the demon leaped from the stairs nine feet away from them into the hallway. It stood on its two huge feet like an overgrown and deformed lizard, facing Eric and Wanda. It was so big Wanda knew it would close the distance between them in just a step or two.

Eric whipped around to face the demon and moved to the middle of the hallway. The moment Wanda saw the demon again, her heart palpitated heavily, and immediately she understood what Eric meant by, “Your scream will only attract trouble.” The statement didn't mean that the teachers would come out, but that the demon would find her.

Unwittingly, Wanda moved closer to Eric as her entire body shivered at the sight of the demon. Eric's eyes and the search for her brother paled in significance. She was staring at the impossible.

The demon's head sat like a humongous lizard’s head on an enormous neck. Its entire body occupied a good portion of the width between the walls of the hallway. Its hands and legs were formed differently from a lizard's but scaly and slimy looking in a way that made the hair at the back of Wanda's neck stand up.

The hands curved in a bow-like shape, like a baby's legs that were yet to straighten out fully. The huge, four claw-like talons were shaped for gripping. His big legs also had sharp claws as toes, which made a creepy sound as they pecked on the floor.

Shades of bright yellow patches covered its green body. What she had thought was a shiny yellow raincoat was actually the creature’s body.

“Reptallion Sniffer.” Eric said the name of the demon without taking his eyes off it. His hands had gone to his waist, each one resting on an item by his waistline. “Someone must have told it to fetch you.”

“What?” Wanda exclaimed. She moved her head to look at Eric, whose undivided attention was on the demon. She wasn’t sure what perplexed her more, Eric knowing so much about the creature, or the fact that the demon was summoned to get her.

“It's a very fast demon," Eric said, his eyes locked on it. “You can't escape it alone, so when I tell you to run, you run as far away as you can from the school. I will hold it down here.”

Wanda was about to ask how he planned to do that when the demon launched itself at her. It was extremely fast, but to her shock, Eric was faster.

“Now,” he shouted as he threw the first object from his waist with his left hand.

The little metallic and silvery object he’d thrown turned into a long, pointed object, like a peg rolling in midair. The symbols on it glowed brightly as if a golden light within the object illuminated the emblem on it. The object flew toward where the demon's heart should be but stuck into its chest instead. An unbearable odor filled the air as ichor poured from the wound.

Eric turned and shouted, “What are you still doing here?”

The demon hissed a horrible sound, which sounded something like, “You . . . you,” as it looked at Eric with wicked eyes. It was apparent that the object Eric had thrown had a supernatural touch to it. The demon moved its left hand to the object in its body. It squirmed, and then its eyes became more brutal.

It swung its right hand toward Wanda. The talons were about to cut her when Eric pushed her and jumped in front of her.

“Arhhh!” Eric cried as the creature’s talons pressed deep into his chest, and Wanda fell to the floor.

Wanda gasped at the dreadfulness of seeing the talons in Eric's chest. Her legs scrambled back on the floor, pushing her till she hit the wall. She went into a dream-like state, watching his blue shirt turn dark at the points where the talons penetrated his body. Within seconds, the dark parts spread and grew wider. Wanda stiffened as she watched the scene.

The demon hissed again, and Eric groaned. The hiss caught Wanda's attention, waking her back to consciousness. She looked up to see the face of the disfigured and overgrown lizard-like creature. The creature seemed to be smiling, as if happy.

“Get up.” Eric groaned as the words came out of his mouth. His eyes reddened, and he grimaced in what had to be excruciating pain. “What are you waiting for—to watch me die? Run . . . go!”

His last two words woke Wanda fully. She got up in a rush, turned, and ran farther down the hallway. She got to the entrance of the library and glanced back one last time to see the demon was still holding its right hand in Eric's chest, and Eric pushing back to get the talons out. Then she hurried into the library.

∞∞∞

As Eric tried to shove the massive hand of the demon out of his chest, the demon hissed again, speaking in an ancient language long dead to humanity.

“No, you are wrong,” Eric responded. “I am not dying today.” He lifted the demon's right-hand talons away from his chest. He was about to jump out of the way when he saw the demon's left-hand talons swinging toward his head. He yanked a silvery knife from his waist. The symbol shone in glittering colors as Eric slashed the knife. The talons of the demon met the silvery knife, and the knife went clean through, a crunchy sound like slicing through freshly plucked apples filling the air. The long talons fell, and Eric staggered backward, gripping the silvery knife, his left hand on the wound in his chest.

The demon groaned in pain, but within seconds the talons grew back. It raised its head and looked at Eric, who struggled to stand upright; the pain in his chest was severe.

The demon readjusted its position and then hissed in its ancient language. It opened its mouth wide enough to reveal long and razor-sharp, uneven-looking teeth. Its eyelids closed.

“That will never be possible,” Eric replied, putting confidence in his voice even though his words were weak because of the wound on his chest. “You will have to finish me before you can get to her.”

The demon hissed and jumped, its huge legs covering the distance between it and Eric. Eric looked up, but he was weak; he couldn't move as fast as he did before. The demon landed on top of him, its full body covering Eric.

∞∞∞

The school library, familiar enough to Wanda that she could easily describe it with her eyes closed, now seemed a complicated maze. The rows and shelves of books all looked the same to her.

Wanda wandered for some seconds, her blood pumping hard and fast. She couldn't take her mind off Eric, who had given her the tiny space to get away, and now he was going to die.

She was pondering on Eric when the teacher who had come out earlier emerged in front of her.

“Are you okay?” the teacher asked as he closed the book he was reading. With his finger, he adjusted his askew glasses upward so he could have a better view of Wanda. His expression changed, morphing into one of concern as he took in her appearance.

Wanda shook her head at the man, but no words came to her befuddled mind. She was still trying to organize herself and had not expected to bump into him.

“Did that boy in the hallway hurt you or—” 

“No,” she said curtly. Her voice was steady this time, but she was still panting.

The teacher had seen Eric.

“You students need to learn there’s a time to be serious and a time to play.” He walked away, turning the next page of the book in his hand.

Wanda watched the teacher walk away and abruptly remembered her brother Jason. She ran through several sections in the library, looking for him. She went to the section of books Jason loved most, but without any luck.

She rushed to one of the library attendants by the desk. “Please, have you seen Jason?”

The lady looked baffled, so Wanda added, “Jason—my brother, Jason Troms.”

“Yes,” the lady answered, her eyes widening in recognition. “He left a few minutes ago with his friends. I think they went outside.” She shrugged. “You know how the students are, happy the semester is over . . .” She broke off as Wanda hurried to the library exit.

Wanda stopped at the edge of the library door. Fear seized her heart, but to her own amazement, it wasn't fear of seeing the demon; it was fear of a dead body on the floor . . . Eric's body. She took a deep breath, like a child trying to learn how to swim for the first time. She stepped into the hallway. She wanted to look away and dash to the second staircase, but she could not resist the urge to look in the direction of Eric and the demon.

She pressed herself against the doorpost, her body freezing. Eric lay motionless. The huge talon claws of the big demon's left foot were pressed down into his back, pinning him to the corner of the wall.

Wanda's hand went up, covering her mouth. She struggled to breathe, trying to hold back the tears. Eric was . . . he was dead. One of his silvery objects lay on the other side, close to the wall but far from Eric's reach. She made out a cut on his face. The demon, on the other hand, now had two silver objects in its body, and several lacerations exuded ichor.

The demon hissed and looked over, saying something in a language Wanda could not understand. It had noticed her. She wasn't sure if it could perceive her, or if it just had instincts for detecting her when she was close by. The message in the furious eyes revealed it was coming after her.

Suddenly Wanda noticed movement underneath the creature’s feet. She shuddered as Eric raised his head. Her heart fluttered as a flicker of hope flashed through her that he might still be alive. But the flicker was short-lived. His eyes had changed again to the golden cat-like eyes.

“Run!” he said in a weak tone.

The instant Eric shouted, the demon took its feet off him and tensed to leap toward Wanda. Eric, covered in sweat and blood, pulled out the last silvery-looking peg by his waist. The peg grew longer in the air just before Eric stabbed it hard into the foot beside him. It went straight into the leg of the demon and then into the floor, pinning the beast down.

The demon grunted, but Wanda didn't wait to see what effect the silver peg would have. She got to the other staircase closer to the library and rushed down, skipping every couple of steps. She pushed through the exit doors and ran outside the school. The school campus, previously filled with students, was now almost empty. About eighteen students were left on the entire school grounds, and they gathered in batches of two or three.

After looking from one side to the other, Wanda spotted two of Jason's friends and classmates. She hurried toward them.

“Hi!” Wanda panted. “Do any of you know where Jason is?”

“Jason?” one of the boys replied, looking alarmed at Wanda's panicked attitude.

“He left a while ago,” the other boy said.

“Left?” Wanda blinked in confusion. “We go home together. He could not—”

“He left with Alfred,” the boy said casually. “Alfred said your mum said he should bring Jason home.”

“That's not possible,” Wanda said faintly, and then she realized what had happened. Her heart dropped like it had been pumped full of lead.

She backed away from the boys in slow motion, her brain pulling the pieces together. Alfred had been talking to the demon when she noticed it for the first time. Suddenly Alfred's disappearance hit her like a stone thrown at her head . . . Alfred must be working with the demon. He must have let the demon into the school through the back entrance while Alfred himself went to get Jason. Where had Alfred taken Jason, and how was she going to explain all this to her mum?

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3

 

Everything in Wanda's life was twirling and collapsing at the same time. How would she find her brother? She remembered her mum and rummaged in her pocket to get her phone.

Wanda dialed her mum's number. The line went dead as soon as her mum's mobile number was called. It went off so fast she wasn't sure the call even went through. Unusual not to be able to reach her mum on the mobile phone. Wanda tried again and again, but nothing happened.

Suddenly, just when she was about to totally lose hope, the call was picked up.

“Mum, Mum!”

“Wanda!”

Her mum’s voice came out in a breathy rush, which worried Wanda.

“Mum,” Wanda said again and pressed her finger on the phone. “Mum, what’s going on?” Her voice broke as panic set in again.

“Where are you?” her mum replied. The haste in her voice was gone. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I'm at school, standing in the courtyard, but I can't find Jason. He's not at school—” Wanda started sobbing.

“Come back in. I'm inside your school,” Wanda’s mum said.

Wanda froze as something caught her attention. Not the voice, because she knew it was her mum's voice on the line. Her mum was close to a few of the teachers and could have gone into the school to have a discussion with them, so that wasn’t it either. It was something about her lack of reaction to Wanda’s statement about not being able to find Jason because he wasn’t at school

Her mum had turned into a panic freak after their father died, and every moment of not seeing them or being able to lay her eyes on them alarmed her. Something wasn't right.

Wanda remembered the horror she had left at school—Eric and the demon. She turned toward the school's main entrance, expecting to see something unusual. A person with a phone to her ear stood by the school door looking straight at her.

Something about the person struck Wanda as odd. She couldn’t even confirm if she was looking at a human being or not. remembered Eric's warning to run far away from the school premises and decided not to analyze the creature. Wanda turned and ran as fast as she could toward the road. She jumped in front of a taxi, which came to an abrupt halt.

“Are you out—?”

The taxi driver stretched his head out the window, yelling at Wanda, but her attention was on the person, or thing, with the phone. She watched as the person began to run toward her. Wanda climbed into the taxi.

“Go! Go! Go!” Wanda said to the driver.

“Are you all right?” the driver asked, this time with a more caring tone.

“Drive!” Wanda screamed.

“Okay, okay.” The man pumped the engine with gas. He drove for about five minutes, watching Wanda through the rear-view mirror as she panicked, looking backward several times.

“Where exactly are we going?” the man asked.

“Kampengata . . . number twenty, Oslo.” Wanda gave the driver her home address and straight away began to think about who might have been using her mother's phone.

“You know you are lucky the boy I came to pick up had already left for home,” the driver said.

Tears trickled down her face, but she looked away from the driver, trying not to cry loud enough for him to hear.

The last hour of her afternoon had turned into a lifetime experience, something she would never forget. Her mum came up again in her mind. Losing her dad had affected her mum gravely, and it was harrowing, a pain Wanda herself had carried for nine years, wishing she could lay her hands on those that caused the car accident which killed her father. But the police never found them.

The thought of her mother and brother suddenly being pronounced dead like the night they came to give her mother the news of her father's death played itself over and over in her head, and it frightened her. What had happened to her mum, and where had Alfred taken Jason? Tutu crossed her mind also, and quickly Wanda took the phone out again and called.

“Tutu, Tutu,” Wanda whispered, sniffling as she tried to control her tears and emotions.

“Wanda, where are you?” Tutu asked, her voice defined by worry and concern.

“I don't know.”

“What?” Tutu shouted.

“In a taxi,” Wanda corrected. She ignored Tutu's shout. “Jason is missing, and I can't reach my mum. I hope they haven't gotten her.”

“Who is going to get your mum?” Tutu asked, and when Wanda remained silent, she added, “And who has Jason?”

“Alfred has Jason, and I think he is working with demons. . . . They might have my mum.”

“Demons—” The line cut off.

Wanda looked at the phone and wondered why Tutu went off so abruptly. She called back, but the phone kept ringing, and Tutu didn't pick up. Why would Tutu suddenly cut her off and not pick up her call the moment she mentioned demons?

Could Tutu possibly know something about all of this? The thought flashed through Wanda's mind, and then the taxi slowed down. She looked up and realized they were already on her street.

Wanda paid the driver and stepped out of the taxi. She rushed into the building and went straight up to their apartment. Her fingers trembled in panic, not knowing what to expect when she entered their residential apartment. She'd heard horror stories of students' mums disappearing before they got home from school.

Wanda moved closer to the door, touched her pocket, and then remembered her key was in the school bag she had left behind at school. She closed her eyes, frustrated and feeling like hitting herself. Then she heard her mum's voice in the apartment, talking to someone. Wanda pressed the bell, tried to force the door open, and shouted out to her mum as tears fell from her eyes.

The door to their apartment flew open.

“Wanda!” Sofia looked at her daughter in bewilderment.

“Mum,” Wanda said, rushing in and hugging her. Joy and relief at seeing her mum alive filled Wanda.

“Are you all right?” Sofia’s eyes scanned her from head to toe.

“What happened to your phone?” Wanda asked.

“I can't find it. I’ve been looking for it. I went out a few hours ago, and I lost it.” Sofia placed her hand on her daughter's back, and they hugged each other tightly. Suddenly, Sofia's tone changed. “Where . . . where is your brother?”

Wanda heard the panic already in her mum's voice, though Wanda had not mentioned that Jason was missing. Sofia pulled away from the hug and held Wanda by the shoulders.

“Where is Jason?” Sofia said, looking directly at Wanda.

More tears gathered in Wanda's eyes.

“I . . . I don't know, Mum—I looked everywhere for him . . .”

“What do you mean?” Sofia raised her voice.

“Easy, Sofia,” a man’s voice said.

For the first time, Wanda noticed Bathe as he pushed away from the drawer he leaned against, positioned under their window.

Wanda was happy to see him. He had been there for them since her dad died. Bathe looked older than his forty years, with several gray hairs on his head and a wrinkled forehead. He was big but not too tall, about six feet. Wanda sometimes enjoyed his company, and other times did not. She couldn't bear the thought that anyone might take her father's place, and she could see her mum felt the same way. Her mother had stayed away from remarrying, though she looked gorgeous for a forty-one-year-old woman.

Bathe walked up to Wanda and put his hand on her shoulder. “What happened to Jason?” he inquired in a low tone, his eyes focused on Wanda.

“I think a demon got him.” She spoke without thinking.

“What?” Sofia flipped. “I told you and Jason, I don't want you talking—”

“Mum!” Wanda spoke fast as the tears she'd been holding back began to gush out of her eyes. “I saw it with my own eyes. Tutu could not, but I saw it, and it chased me all over the—”

“Wait,” Bathe butted in, and Wanda saw the seriousness in his face. Both Bathe's eyes and those of her mum were fixed on her like she was going to be vaporized and they wanted to see it when it happened.

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asked, uncomfortable with her mum and Bathe's silent, deep stares. She wiped the tears from her eyes.

“You saw a demon, and it chased you?” Bathe repeated like he hadn’t heard Wanda properly.

“It's a long story. . . .”

“Give me a quick summary,” Bathe said urgently.

Wanda narrated her story, from stepping out of school and seeing Alfred while she and Tutu chatted, all the way until she rushed into the taxi. She left out the part where Eric was killed by the demon. She couldn't come to terms with the fact that she had let a boy die in her place.

“Oh! No!” Sofia raised her hands straight to her face and covered her mouth. “No! No! No!” She shook her head like she was forcing herself to wake up from a dream.

“Sofia.” Bathe turned. “We need to get her away from here now.”

“No, no,” Sofia cried, tears in her eyes. She took her hands from her mouth and placed them on her cheeks, facing Bathe with unseeing eyes. “Marcus promised me this would not happen.”

“Yes,” Bathe said. “Marcus probably said all that to keep you from being worried.”

Her mum began to shiver. Wanda didn't understand what her mum and Bathe were talking about, but she could see her mother was disturbed.

“What should I do?” Sofia said. “How do I find Jason?”

“I can make some calls and get a few people tracking him down,” Bathe said. “But right now, you and Wanda have to leave here.”

“Leave?” Wanda said. The urgency in her mother's voice and Bathe's tone swept away all her previous fright.

“Where can I hide her from demons?” Sofia asked.

“You know where, Sofia,” Bathe said, and Wanda sensed there was more to the story. Probably some history between her mum and Bathe, long before her father died.

“I thought . . . the entire demon and prophecy thing ended for us when Marcus and Xavier died.”

Who was Xavier?

“That isn't the issue now, Sofia,” Bathe said. “Wanda's safety is what we have to figure out right now. Gather a few things together while I make my calls. But keep it light, probably only important Vitrian and Marcus' stuff . . . like his Praying Méndez.”

The words “Praying Méndez” caught Wanda's attention. Eric had said the same thing. He had asked for hers, but she had no idea what he meant. She had only looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language.

Bathe pulled his phone from his pocket and walked away to make a call. Sofia turned toward her room, and Wanda followed her.

“Mum, why do we have to leave?” she asked.

“You shouldn't have seen the demon,” Sofia muttered, but it wasn't a complaint; it was more like she was trying to clear her head.

“Mum—I need to know what's happening. We have to do something about Jason; we can't just leave without him.”

Sofia pushed through the door to her room and turned to look at Wanda.

“Are you sure you saw a demon?” Her mother's voice was the usual firm tone Wanda got whenever her mum corrected her. Wanda could see the worry written all over her mother's expression and knew it wasn't the time to mince words.

“Yes, mum,” Wanda answered. “I saw it just as I see you right now. The same way Dad described.”

“I told Marcus not to tell you and Jason those stories, but he assured me they meant nothing. You and Jason weren't chosen; you had nothing to do with The Chosen. Marcus said.” Sofia sighed and bent to pull something from under her set of dresses in the wardrobe.

“Chosen . . .” Wanda repeated, staring at her mum tumultuously. “What does that mean?”

Her mother turned to the bed with a wooden box in her hands. The box was ornate, made of thick wood and well-polished in dark chocolate brown.

Wanda was sure she hadn't seen it before, even though she'd looked in her mother's closet several times. It was designed like a treasure chest with an oval shape on the lid. Objects with symbols on them were engraved on it, like the symbols Wanda had seen sparkling on the object Eric held. The symbol had a unique appearance. It was carved into the wood on all sides and at the top of the box.

“What is this?” Wanda's eyes fixed on the box in her mother's hand.

“You can see it,” her mum croaked.

“Yes, I can see the box, Mum,” Wanda said. She looked into her mum’s eyes and could see the anxiety in her mother’s expression.

“Something’s changed,” her mum said, sadness in her tone. “Your eyes are open now. It's Marcus' box. He brought it home a few days before he died and told me not to give it to anyone.”

“It belonged to Dad.” Wanda wondered why her dad had such an old and ancient-looking wooden box.

Sofia placed the box on her bed and opened it. The contents were items she'd never seen before. Pegs of different kinds, some wooden, but most of them metallic, more silver-like in appearance. It also contained documents and notes with different writings, indicating they were written by different people.

A few of the things in the box looked similar to the ones Eric had. They were as long as her arm from her wrist to her elbow, like the ones Eric threw at school.

“This is your father's Praying Méndez,” Sofia said as she picked up one of the objects. She didn't look at her daughter but continued to study the Méndez in her hand, looking at it passionately.

Wanda sensed the object brought up distressing memories, perhaps memories of her dad. She knew when her mum reminisced about her father.

The Praying Méndez wasn’t as long as the other objects in the box, but its remarkable appearance caught Wanda’s eye. It was like silver and wood twisting together from the bottom to the sharp pointy tip at the top. Like the other objects in the box, the Praying Méndez had a thin, elongated, cone-like shape. On the silver side was the same Greek symbol; the embedded symbol was made of wood, and the symbol on the wooden side was made of silver.

“What does it do?” Wanda stared at the Praying Méndez, knowing Eric had said she needed it for the demon.

“I'll explain later.” Sofia closed the box. “We need to get out of here.”

They stepped back into the living room. Bathe quickly ended the call he’d been making, and Wanda noticed the hasty way with which he stopped talking, like he didn't want them to hear the conversation. Sofia didn't seem to notice.

“I have about twenty people looking for Jason,” Bathe said. “They should find him very soon.”

What did that mean? And who were these twenty people that Bathe could suddenly order to look for her brother?

“Thanks,” Sofia said.

Wanda felt the reluctance in her mum’s response. She knew her mother well enough to know she didn’t like relying on others for help.

“We should get to the car,” Bathe said, moving toward the door.

“Shouldn't we take some clothes?” Wanda looked at her mother.

“We don't have time,” Bathe answered for Sofia. “If you were chased at school, then we only have a few more minutes before they get here.”

Bathe's car was the latest Audi model. Wanda pulled the back door open and plunged herself on the seat as her mum and Bathe discussed sitting next to each other in the front of the car.

“The Fortress is another five hours from here—how do you suppose we'll get there?” Sofia asked, turning to Bathe.

“I’m driving to one of the locator points. Those are areas the Vitrians have dedicated near the city. No demon can come near there.”

“I know,” Sofia said.

“It’s about an hour from here, but I’ll try and make it in less.”

“I am . . . I'm still not sure about this,” her mum said in the tone she used when she didn’t approve of a suggestion or plan.

“You and I know there is nowhere else to keep Wanda safe now.”

“What if they don't accept us? We left years ago?”

“That will not happen. If she's The Chosen, the Vitrians will want her safe.”

Sofia looked out the window, her gaze unfocused. “This is how Marcus and Xavier died.” Her voice carried sadness. “It started when Marcus became convinced The Chosen was important and had to be protected. Celina poisoned his mind. I don't want anyone poisoning my children's minds.”

“Sofia,” Bathe said, “Celina is in the past. No one even knows if she's alive.” He drew in a deep breath. “Wanda needs protection right now, and so do you.”

Wanda could see Bathe knew something about Celina, something he didn't want to say. The name rang a bell. Her mum rarely mentioned her, but whenever she did, her voice carried a deep bitterness and envy.

“Mum, what’s going on? The Vitrians, the Fortress . . .” Wanda broke off.

“I think you should explain it.” Sofia looked at Bathe.

Bathe inhaled hard and paused. “Your dad and I used to be members of a group. More like a community of people who lived apart from mere humans centuries ago. But not anymore.”

“Why?” Wanda asked, instantly not accepting that her dad was either in any secret group or more than human. “What was special about these people?”

“Nothing,” Bathe said. “Everything was the same as with regular humans. Except we could see demons, and we were given special gifts—tools to fight them, and the Praying Méndez to protect ourselves from them.”

Wanda recalled the stories her dad shared with her and Jason. Stories that her mum assured her were only fairytales for children.

“These people are called . . . well, I mean we are called Vitrians. Over the years, six centuries, to be precise, we have grown in number, large enough that the Vitrian elders created what we call Vitrain Fortresses. The fortresses are sealed with powerful Praying Méndezes. A Vitrian Fortress is a place where the Vitrians live and train in their own established city. A fortress is so strong it keeps away demons; no demon can get into it, so once you are in there, you are safe.”

Bathe's phone went off, the rattling noise interrupting him. He picked it up as he drove and put it to his ear. Wanda turned toward the window beside her.

“Mum, you’re not one of the Vitrians, are you?” Wanda said, but she could figure the answer out from what Bathe had explained. All the stories her dad had told her and Jason flashed back in her memory.

“No,” her mother answered.

“Those stories Dad told us . . .” Wanda paused, waiting for her mother to respond.

“They were true,” Sofia said softly, staring out the window beside her. “They were battles Marcus fought in. I didn't want—”

“But you can see things too,” Wanda interjected; she was annoyed, and she knew her mum could hear it in her voice, but she didn't want any apologetic responses. “You can see Dad's box and the Praying Méndez.”

“Yes. I was granted the opportunity to see things when I married your father. He had to convince the Vitrian elders to give me the ability—” Sofia cut herself off and turned to Bathe, still speaking on the phone.

“Jason,” Bathe repeated to the person he was talking to. “Yes, that's his name. Thanks.”

Knowing Bathe's phone discussion was about Jason, Wanda also fixed her eyes on him. She waited in full expectation for what he had to say, but Bathe kept silent and only applied more gas to the engine.

The car moved faster. The Audi zoomed past vehicles on the motorway. Wanda knew Bathe was going nearly as fast as the car could go.

“What is it?” Sofia asked.

“They found him.” Bathe turned to Sofia with a forced smile.

Wanda closed her eyes in deep relief, happy to hear the news, but Bathe's expression worried her. What was the connection between Bathe and the demons that chased her?

“What’s wrong?” Sofia's voice was firm as she stared at Bathe. “You’ve increased your speed.”

Reluctantly, Bathe let out the information he'd been given. “Jason has been poisoned by a demon. They need you urgently at the fortress; they need family blood to treat him. If not, you'll lose him.”

Wanda's heart skipped a beat. She remembered what Eric had told her at school: Your chances are very little, if the demon's talons have touched you.

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 4

 

Chapter 4

 

Sofia froze. Her face turned pale, skin as white as a chicken that had been killed and skinned.

Wanda knew her mum had to be overwhelmed by everything. Wanda blamed herself for being carried away by thoughts of her holiday before noticing the demon beside Alfred.

“Then you better speed up.” Sofia broke out from her trance and turned away from Bathe, staring at the road.

As if this was what Bathe needed to hear, he responded by applying more gas. The engine grunted like it was going to fall apart. A moment of silence passed before anyone made any comments or raised any other questions.

“Where is Jason now?” Wanda asked. “Is he already at the fortress?”

“No,” Bathe responded. “But some Vitrians are rushing him there as we speak. They will be there before us—in about five minutes, to be precise.”

“Isn't there anything they can do before we arrive?” Wanda's voice was weak, revealing panic. Sorrow washed over her, although she hid her pain for her mum's sake. “I mean, to help Jason. Can't something be done?”

“They will try.” Bathe's reply was cold and sounded like the odds of helping Jason were limited, like the chances of him surviving was hopeless. “That's why they wanted to confirm his name on the phone. They are trying to keep him awake and active. While active and awake, the effect of the poison on him reduces. They're going to keep talking to him, calling his name, to keep him—”

“Why don't they just heal him?”  Sofia interrupted. A mixture of anger, frustration, and despair filled her voice. Wanda stared at her mum as her mother continued. “They heal the sick Vitrians, the extremely wounded after every battle.” She focused on Bathe, who looked straight on the road. “I’ve seen it multiple times. Not a single wounded Vitrian died, as long as they were found. Even when they were poisoned, they were healed. They should heal my son with the Healing Méndez!”

Bathe shook his head. He was quiet for a moment, and Wanda could see he didn't want to get into a discussion. Wanda kept quiet and waited to hear what Bathe had to say.

“The Vitrians no longer have a Healing Méndez,” he finally let out.

His voice trembled, like some of what he said was false. Mistrust bloomed in her mind, and she worried they might be in the hands of the person they should be running from. She looked at her mum, but her mother appeared overwhelmed with how they would heal Jason.

“What do you mean?” Sofia asked. 

Wanda turned her head from her mum to Bathe and back to her mum, studying their expressions carefully.

“The Healing Méndez has been stolen . . . by the rebels.”

Sofia gaped and then said, “You told me the rebels are weak and scattered, merely a vague force right now. You said they fizzled out of existence, and the Vitrians are not even worried—”

“Yes, they are weak in comparison to the Vitrians' strength all over the world. That I can promise you. But I don't know how the rebels were able to steal the Healing Méndez from the fortress.”

Wanda’s feelings for Bathe waffled with uncertainty. He had always been there for them. He had a ways of being available at unexpected moments, such as when she rushed to the house searching for her mum. She wondered how he was always on point, showing up at their house in the exact moments when he was needed. She sensed he knew more about the Healing Méndez story than he was saying. Did he know about the demons chasing her and Jason? Her mum had mysteriously lost her phone while a demon chased Wanda at school, and Bathe happened to show up at their house in their hour of need. He had people to call to find Jason. Now they had found Jason, but a demon had poisoned him.

With these suspicious thoughts of Bathe swimming in her mind, Wanda called out to her mum. “Mum, should we really be going to this place—to this fortress?” The notion that they should be running from Bathe pervaded her mind.

“Yes,” Sofia answered.

Bathe looked at Wanda through the rearview mirror, studying her. Wanda avoided his eyes.

“Mum.” Wanda continued her complaints. “We need to be sure this fortress is safe.”

Sofia looked over her shoulder at her. “Wanda, it is the only safe place. It's where you need to be right now.”

“And the demon?” Wanda inquired. “Jason—how do we know who got him, who poisoned him?” The words rushed out. Perhaps she’d said too much. Even Bathe could easily infer from what she had said.

“I know the best and fastest way of healing demon poison is by using the Healing Méndez,” Bathe said. “With it, Jason would be fine in minutes.”

Wanda felt Bathe’s response was meant to distract her mother.

“So why can't another Healing Méndez be used to heal Jason?” Wanda asked, challenging Bathe’s comment. She had seen so many tools with Eric and in her father's box that she didn't understand why they couldn't use another Healing Méndez.

“The Healing Méndez is not like the Praying Méndez, which everyone has,” Bathe replied, looking at Wanda through the rearview mirror. “Each Vitrian has a Praying Méndez, but not everyone has a Healing Méndez. In fact, there is only one Healing Méndez at each Fortress, and if your injury from a battle is severe . . .”

“Like a cut from a demon's talon?” Eric's warning resonated in Wanda's head as she spoke.

“Yes, like a deep cut from a strong demon,” Bathe confirmed. “To be healed, you would require the Healing Méndez.” He went silent for a moment and then continued. “The Healing Méndez is quite different from the Praying Méndez. It carries heavenly powers. In the past, some obsessed Vitrian elders tried replicating it, just like they could replicate and manufacture Praying Méndezes for everyone. But they were not able to do so.”

Frustrated at the fact that Jason's life was hanging by a thread, Wanda spoke before she thought about her words. “Then let's look for the rebels and have a word . . .”

Bathe didn’t answer. He let the words hang in the air for some seconds.

“It wouldn't help,” her mother said. “We'd be doing exactly what the rebels want if we decided to go to them.”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asked.

“They would demand to have you,” Sofia said. “That's what this is all about. They want you and Jason, and they have the Healing Méndez.”

“Are you saying . . .” Wanda did not want to come to terms with what her mum was insinuating. Eric's voice telling her the demon at school was sent to fetch her resonated in her ears.

“Yes,” Bathe muttered in a sad tone. “I think Jason was poisoned to get to you.”

Wanda noticed her mum didn't seem surprised at Bathe’s statement. What Bathe said was precisely what her mum was implying. Wanda could always read her mum, her emotions and her panic when things happened to them, as well as the fear that had grown worse day after day since her dad died. She remembered how Jason had played, genuinely believing their father's stories and narrating them to his friends at school.

“But . . . but why?” Wanda said, raising her voice. “Jason has done nothing. We don't even know about the Vitrians. Why didn't they just hold him for ransom if they wanted us? They could have locked him up rather than leave him to die.”

Bathe and Sofia exchanged glances.

“Why poison him and release him for death?” Wanda continued.

“Why?” Sofia said, staring at Bathe, who turned back toward the motorway. “The rebels had him already, so why poison him and leave him?”

Bathe looked pensive. “I don't know. There could be several reasons for it. The rebels could have done it when they realized the Vitrians were about to take Jason from them, or they could have done it to make fear set in, knowing we would need the Healing Méndez to heal Jason and would therefore have to come to them.”

“Mum,” Wanda said, making sure her tone demanded an explanation.

“Your father left the Vitrians a few years after the rebels started.” Sofia did not turn to look at Wanda. She drew in a deep breath as her voice broke. “Your dad loved you, Wanda; he loved you and Jason so much and wanted the best for you.”

“Then why didn't he tell us about the rebels?” Wanda said.

“You were too young, Wanda,” Bathe said, and Wanda knew he was right; she was barely seven years old when her father died nine years earlier.

“It is believed,” Sofia said, “that the rebels deal in the occult and sorcery. They got information that certain children would be born to strengthen the Vitrian legacy, and they have since wanted those children dead.”

“Children?” Wanda reiterated, not sure she’d heard her mum correctly.

“Yes, children,” Bathe affirmed. “Not just you and Jason. The only difference between you and Jason compared to the others is only one of your parents is a Vitrian.” Bathe paused. “The Vitrians believed for a long time that these children would only come from full-fledged, faithful Vitrian parents.”

“Not mixed parents like my dad and mum,” Wanda said, looking at her mum.

“On point!” Bathe said. “And I guess with the fact that none of the other Chosen children have been born from a single Vitrian parent heritage, they never felt concerned to look at you or Jason.”

“But the rebels did?” Wanda said.

“Well, from what transpired today, I guess you can say so.” Bathe's voice was gentle as he answered.

Wanda pondered the issue, knowing the rebels must have received information about her ability and sent the demon to fetch her. She remembered how Eric had saved her. Even if he escaped the demon that attacked her, how would he be healed?

“There was a boy at school . . .” Wanda said and broke off, not knowing how to bring the topic up.

Bathe looked at her through the rearview mirror.

“What about the boy?” he asked.

“She's talking about Petter, her friend,” Sofia said.

"Was it Petter?" Bathe asked, looking into the rearview mirror again.

“No,” Wanda said softly, and the answer caught her mum's curiosity. Sofia turned her head to look at her daughter's face. Wanda saw her mum's eyes were red and filled with tears.

“What's his name?” Sofia asked.

Her mum probably asked because Wanda hardly spoke of other boys from school apart from Petter.

“Eric . . . his name is Eric,” Wanda replied. She kept her face devoid of any indication that the boy meant anything more to her than a name.

Sofia studied Wanda and relaxed her tensed body. Her faint smile faded when Wanda added, “He could see the demon too.”

Bathe stepped hard on the brake pedal. Wanda wasn't sure if it was the boy's name or the fact that the boy saw the demon that made Bathe react so strongly. Her mum's mouth dropped open as she froze.

“How can that be?” Sofia said. “People are not supposed to see demons . . .”

“I don't know,” Wanda said curtly.

“You probably imagined it, Wanda,” Bathe said. “Demons can make you see or do—”

“No, it was not my imagination,” Wanda said. “The boy fought with the demon.”

Bathe gave a weak giggle as his leg went to the brake pedal again. The speed was now down to hundred kilometers per hour.

Bathe’s unusual reaction made the thought that he knew more about the demon flash through Wanda's mind again. She wondered why he appeared so stunned at the news that a boy at school fought the demon that had attacked her. She focused on Bathe, trying to figure out what exactly disturbed him about Eric. She felt she and her mum were in the wrong hands and heading in the wrong direction.

“No one can fight a demon with bare hands, no human,” Bathe said.

“He was equipped with some nail-like objects,” Wanda said, trying to convince Bathe and her mother of what she had witnessed. “I saw him throw the objects—silver in color, and they stuck in the demon's body.”

Bathe and Sofia's eyes made contact briefly, and Wanda immediately knew they understood what she described. She watched their reactions as she continued.

“The objects looked more like pegs, big and long pegs with symbols on them. Just like the ones in this box.” She looked at her father’s box beside her in the car.

“That can’t be a coincidence,” Sofia said, her eyes still on Bathe.

Bathe stared ahead.

“Was someone out there sent to protect Wanda?” Sofia asked, her voice and expression intense as she looked at Bathe, who stayed silent.

That was what Eric was doing, Wanda thought, but she didn't speak up. “He was protecting me, and he died doing it.” Her mind kept on thinking about Eric and how he looked when he lay lifeless on the floor at school.

“Someone sent to protect her?” Bathe repeated. He looked bewildered and disturbed, but something about his reaction made Wanda feel like he knew what was going to happen at school, and Eric was not supposed to be there.

She couldn’t control her thoughts, which kept trailing off and making her feel Bathe was involved in this, and now he was taking them where they should not be going.

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 5

 

Chapter 5

 

Wanda shook her head, trying to ward off the thoughts about Bathe. Maybe her feelings were due to her disapproval of him being around her mum; she had never really liked any man getting close to her mum. She wanted her father back, and that was that.

“I would know if anyone was sent to protect her,” Bathe said, breaking Wanda out of her daydream. He shook his head. “If anyone had been sent from the Fortress to protect her, I would have been aware of it. I don't think that’s the case.”

“Why?” Sofia asked. “Why couldn't Alexis or one of the other elders send someone to protect Wanda?”

Bathe turned and spoke slowly. “Wanda was not on the list of those thought to be The Chosen. She never showed any peculiar signs as a child.” A few seconds passed in silence, then Bathe looked at Wanda through his rearview mirror. “I wouldn't get caught up about the boy if I were you. He must have been camouflaged. Probably the same demon camouflaged as a human to confuse Wanda—”

“No, he was with me when the demon appeared by the school library.” Wanda repeated what she had told them before to confirm the demon and Eric were two different beings. “And I saw the demon's talons penetrating his chest and back when they fought.”

“You did?” Sofia turned to her daughter, concern on her face.

“Well, that answers it.” Bathe wore a convinced look. “No one, not even a Vitrian, can have a demon's talon penetrate his chest and survive till morning. So this Eric boy is another demon, and both of them were playing on your mind. Demons can take on the appearance of humans. When they do that, we call them familiar spirits.”

Wanda remembered her own father telling her about this power. She wanted to argue further that Eric was all human when she remembered the way Eric's eyes had changed. Something wasn't right about the entire scene at school, and Wanda couldn't put the pieces together. Eric was protecting her, although she didn't understand why he'd jump in front of her and let the demon strike at him when he knew it was a life-threatening move.

Again, his changing eyes flashed through her memory. Had she really seen the eyes change, or was it just her imagination due to the pandemonium at school?

A motorbike speeding up to their side two lanes away attracted her attention. The cyclist wore jet-black leather clothes, which shone in the sun. Even the palms of the rider were covered in black gloves. Everything was black, including the bike.

She watched the rider pull out a device slightly bulkier and broader than a smartphone. The rider shook the tool hard, like the instrument was damaged and was trying to get it to work. Then the rider suddenly looked up in alertness like a snake that had found its prey. The person sped up and disappeared into the horizon.

“So what happened, Wanda?” Sofia asked, interrupting Wanda’s observation of the biker.

“What happened?” Wanda turned back to her mum. She hadn't been listening to their discussion. “To who?”

“The boy at school.” Bathe raised his head again to the mirror to see Wanda's face. “Eric. What happened to him when he fought the demon?”

“I don't know.” Wanda shrugged. “I ran out of the school.” The heaviest guilt Wanda had ever felt swept through her body. Leaving Eric to die disturbed her.

“I should have stayed.” Wanda let the words out glumly, embarrassed and annoyed at the same time. She buried her face in shame.

“It’s okay, Wanda.” Sofia's voice was tender. “There was nothing you do to help.”

“You did the right thing,” Bathe said. “The day you see what others can't . . . that day, you run.”

Wanda raised her head. For the first time, Bathe sounded exactly like her dad. If her eyes had been covered, she would have sworn it was Marcus speaking. The statement was something her father always said to her, admonishing her to run the day she saw a demon. She stared at Bathe from behind, wondering if the statement was something familiar to Vitrians and Bathe and her dad got it from the same place.

“How much longer?” Wanda’s mother asked, looking at Bathe.

“About ten more minutes,” Bathe answered.

Wanda continued on the Eric discussion. “Eric said the demon was sent to fetch me.”

“You actually spoke to him?” Sofia looked startled.

“Yes, I did, Mum.”

“I wouldn’t count on anything that Eric boy said,” Bathe said. “The rebels will do anything to get a hold of you; most especially now that they know you are The Chosen.”

“What is this chosen thing?” Wanda asked.

“Well, if you don’t know what it is by now, you at least know it has something to do with your new-found ability to see demons.”

The motorbike was on Wanda’s side again, but now it was not a few lanes away on the motorway; it was next to them. The rider tilted her head and looked in Wanda's direction. Wanda felt penetrating eyes behind the helmet as the rider hit the brakes. Bathe’s car roared past the motorbike.

Wanda whipped around. It was dangerous to brake like that on the freeway. The biker turned to stare at her, and Wanda sank back. Who was behind the helmet? She was about to call it Bathe's attention when a loud, ear-shattering noise came from the front of the car. Suddenly, the hood caved in as a massive creature descended on it.

Sofia and Wanda jerked forward, screaming as Bathe held tight to the steering wheel and tapped the brakes of the speeding car. The car swerved and screeched as its speed began to reduce. Bathe clutched the steering wheel, trying to control the vehicle as it swerved from one side to the other.

The creature was huge. Wanda could only see its knee and lower torso as it stood on the hood. The other cars on the road had stopped, and people watched them some distance away. She knew those watching would only see that they had lost control of the car and an accident was imminent; nothing about the creature on the hood would be visible to human eyes.

Wanda looked at her mum and realized her eyes were shut. Her mouth was moving, but Wanda couldn't tell what she was saying. Bathe kept swerving the car from one side to the other.

She is—she is praying, Wanda thought, but she couldn't believe it. She had never seen her mum pray; neither had her mum allowed them to visit a church or any so-called religious gathering. She understood why her mum had kept her and Jason away from everything. Her mother did it to prevent them having any involvement with the Vitrians.

A thunderous bang came from the roof of the car, attracting everyone's attention. They looked up at the same time that Sofia shouted, “Jesus!”

Another loud roar followed as the creature slammed its arm on the roof again, and Wanda shivered. An unusual beastly sound followed; it was a mixture of a lion's roar and a wolf's howl.

“It has a hold on the car; I can't get it off,” Bathe said frantically. Another massive and frightening blow followed, and the creature's fingers penetrated through the roof.

The car shuddered, and Wanda drew herself into her seat like she could disappear into it. She watched as the massive claws of the creature emerged through the roof of the Audi.

The creature pulled the roof open like a child tearing apart a trivial paper airplane. The metal sheet on the car's roof screeched in objection.

Wanda screamed at the sight of the thing. The creature had a human shape; its hands and legs were structured like that of a regular person. The only difference was that it was huge and covered in fur. Its body was muscled from the waist to the top, its chest as broad as anyone could. Its neck was wide and thick, its hands massive, and its arms had huge biceps like the creature regularly spent time in the gym. The thing looked nothing like the demons her father had described to her and Jason. It was not deformed in any way, and it had none of the mixed animal body parts demons usually have.

Wanda stared in disbelief at the face of the creature. But it wasn't the structure that caught her attention; it was the eyes.

Something in them controlled her to be quiet.

“What is it?” Sofia shrieked.

“I don't know!” Bathe yelled. “Never seen this in my life.”

The creature paused for a second as its gaze met Wanda's. It studied her with its venomous eyes as if registering some information locked inside it.

“Can demons mind control?” Sofia asked worriedly, her gaze locked on Wanda and the demon.

Bathe did not respond, but he dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out an object.

The creature roared again, an annoying, involuntary roar, like an unseen force within made it do so. The veins in its neck bulged. The grayish-white hair on its body stood up like a small electric voltage had passed into its body. Wanda woke from her reverie, and she and her mum placed their hands over their ears.

The car came to a halt, hitting a roadside railing. The creature leaped off the hood with ease. Though the car slammed into the railing with force, the creature's leap was adept; like a skillful young child jumping off the last step on a staircase in a playful manner. It landed some feet away behind the car.

Bathe did not wait to answer Sofia's question. He was already up and out of the car. Wanda and her mum immediately followed, forcing the door of the vehicle open using their body weight.

Bathe shielded Wanda as they stood behind the car, facing the creature. A Praying Méndez was now in his hand. The silver part glowed; it was no longer a metallic color but shone as light radiated from the silver. The glow was also apparent on the silver symbols etched in the wooden part. The glow caught Wanda's attention as she stood in bewilderment, looking at it.

Sofia shook her daughter hard. But the glow from the Méndez had put Wanda in a trance. The creature covered its eyes with its huge hands. The supernatural light appeared to be harmless to humans but harmful to demons.

Bathe shouted again and pointed with his other hand. “Run!”

Wanda felt her mum trying to pull her away, but she refused to leave. She watched Bathe making commands and the reaction of the unique creature in front of him.

“You will not go any further; I set a barrier upon you,” Bathe yelled, holding his Praying Méndez tight in his outstretched hand. Wanda could see that even Bathe seemed perplexed by the creature. “I am a Vitrian, and by the power of prayer in this Méndez, I order you bound and not to step beyond here.”

The massive, well-over-ten-foot thing struggled to control itself in front of the glowing Méndez. It stumbled forward, closer to Bathe, dragging its legs as if it had lost control of them. Fright and horror crossed Bathe's face.

“I order you bound! Pinned to this realm, to your current position.” Bathe continued to shout as he held his Praying Méndez high. The glow reflected in the face of the demon almost twice his height.

The demon advanced on Bathe, and Bathe moved backward. The colossal creature crossed the initial point where Bathe had stood beside the car.

“Impossible!” Bathe exclaimed.

He turned to Wanda and Sophia. “Run!”

Wanda understood the horror in his eyes and voice. She sensed Bathe had not faced this creature before and did not know how to deal with the beast. When her mum tugged again, Wanda allowed herself to be dragged away. She wasn't sure where they were going, but she knew they were close to a barrier, and they could be safe. Marcus, her father, had told her about locations in different cities in the world. They only had to get to one of them to be safe from demons.

Suddenly, her mind cast back to Eric, and she remembered how she had left him to die. She yanked her hand out of her mum's, stopped, and turned to look at Bathe.

“Wanda,” Sofia shouted.

Wanda’s eyes were fixed on Bathe and the creature that was four times as wide as him.

“We have to go,” her mum shouted, pleading in her tone, but Wanda, who could see what danger Bathe was in, just stared, oblivious to her mum's plea.

The demon stood directly in front of Bathe. Wanda remembered the horror, exhaustion, and excruciating pain in Eric’s eyes when she came out of the library and saw him on the floor at school. She could imagine what Bathe was going through, standing alone in front of the creature.

“We have to help,” Wanda said. “I'm not leaving Bathe.” She had left Eric to die earlier. She wasn't doing it again.

“We can't!” Sofia cried. There were tears in her eyes. She held her daughter by the shoulder. “Listen to me,” she said, looking directly into Wanda's eyes. Wanda's gaze adjusted from the scene behind her mum to the trepidation in her mother's eyes. “You can't fight a demon with bare hands.”

“What? We are not leaving him alone there,” Wanda insisted. “There must be something—”

“The only thing now is to—”

Something blocked the late bright summer sunlight as it dropped from the sky a few feet above her and her mum. Wanda looked up and screamed. Sofia turned and looked up also.

∞∞∞

The creature's movements quickened, as if it suddenly had more power to overcome the barrier Bathe used to hold it down. Bathe’s lip contorted, his forehead furrowing in shock.

Not only had the creature moved, but it had crossed a barrier point.

“Impossible.” Bather said, unwittingly he spoke the words in his mind out. “Demons are not supposed to do that. What is this and why is it not disintegrating?”

Bathe held his Praying Méndez up at the creature now standing before him, trying not to panic. The only thing holding it back was the light in the Praying Méndez.

The creature took its hand from its face and looked directly at Bathe through the glow of the Praying Méndez.

“How?” Bathe said. The shock on Bathe’s face was intense. No demon had ever looked directly at a brightly shining Praying Méndez.

The creature, with its right hand, took hold of the Praying Méndez. Its hand completely covered the Méndez, and the glow in it died instantly. It then spoke, in an unequivocal and audible voice, further shocking Bathe. He knew demons could speak, but it was in an ancient language. Occasionally they might mutter very unclear, single English words when in their original demon forms.

This demon was doing neither.

“Your prayers are weak. You should do better,” the creature said as it closed its hand on the Praying Méndez. There was no smile or smirk on its face as it looked straight at Bathe.

Before Bathe could make his next move, the creature hit him with its huge left hand. Bathe's feet lifted from the ground as he flew backward. He tried to get back on his feet, but he staggered and fell again.

The demon leaped, covering the distance between it and Wanda.

∞∞∞

Wanda and her mum looked up to see the creature towering over them. They turned to run, but it was much faster than them. It crashed over them, hitting Wanda behind the head as it knocked them both to the ground.

Trepidation swept through Wanda, a severe headache forming the instant the creature fell on her. The impact made her dizzy, but she watched her mum stand up quickly, looking rough and dirty. Her mother blocked the space between her and the creature. Wanda's vision blurred; the sudden collision from the creature made her nauseous.

The creature rose from the ground like a flower opening up very slowly at the sight of the shining morning sunlight. It roared involuntarily again, like something forced it to do so against its own will. The creature's eyes settled on them. Sofia positioned herself in front of Wanda and screamed.

“Leave my daughter alone!” She shook her head. The veins in her head and neck stood out as she shouted.

The creature pulled its body back and looked up at the unexpected noise; it seemed the loud screech had brought it back to reality. Through her impaired vision, Wanda saw the confusion in the creature's eyes.

“Run! Wanda, run!” Sofia yelled without turning to watch.

Wanda turned and began to run in a wobble, slightly unbalanced. Silence followed. She risked a glance behind her and gasped as the creature slapped her mother and sent her flying twenty feet away.

Her mother hit the ground and turned toward her. Her gaze drifted upward, her expression morphing into horror. Wanda followed her mother’s gaze and saw a volley of arrows streaking toward her from the sky. She ducked just as the creature made a loud noise.

In the twinkle of an eye, the creature jumped and covered the space between it and Wanda. It swept Wanda up with its hand and yanked her toward its massive body as the arrows came down. The arrows penetrated deep into the body of the creature, but it was too late; the creature had Wanda pinned beneath its hulk. Its body frame covered Wanda's as she slumped lifelessly in its arms.

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 6

 

Chapter 6

 

A torrential downpour fell around them, and tears simultaneously ran down Wanda's face. She stood beside her mum, who was also crying incessantly, looking straight down at the coffin as it was lowered into the grave. Wanda had overheard her mum say the previous day that she wanted no delay in the burial, and it had been organized as soon as the Vitrians could fit it into their schedule. Wanda had wished to see her father once more, even if it were only his body lying there, motionless, but her mother obstructed every opportunity of anyone seeing his body.

Though there were several black umbrellas open against the rain, her mum looked drenched in the graveyard in her winter jacket. She could see her mother was in excruciating pain. Wanda turned to Jason; he looked stern and annoyed, holding onto his little spiderman rubber toy. She knew Jason would miss their father; they all would.

Bathe walked up to a man when the burial procession ended. Wanda couldn't see the man's face, but his six-foot frame revealed a wide chest and broad shoulders. He was taller than Bathe.

Bathe and the man looked her direction several times while they spoke. She stared back at them.

Wanda glanced at her mom, holding tightly to Jason like the little boy was going to vanish like her husband if she released her grip on him. She didn’t seem to notice the men watching her daughter.

After a few more minutes of discussion, Bathe turned around, and he and the man he was talking to walked away.

“Wanda.”

Jason sounded frustrated, as if he had already called his sister several times before getting her attention.

“What?” Wanda snapped back.

Suddenly Wanda noticed a movement behind a tree some distance away in the graveyard, moving stealthily. She focused her gaze and later noticed it was a person. Wanda tilted her head and her little black umbrella in the heavy rain as she tried to focus. She noticed the movement again, and then she saw the person properly: it was a child covered in a black raincoat with the hood pulled over his head so Wanda could not see the face. She knew the person was probably her age even though she felt she was taller.

The child stood alone some distance away, hiding behind the trees. Wanda wasn't sure who it was; neither was she sure the person was trying to conceal her appearance. She could sense the child needed help from the way the child hid behind the trees and stole secret peeps at the funeral.

“Mum,” Wanda shouted, trying to call her mother's attention to the child by the tree. “Mum,” she shouted again, louder this time.

Wanda turned, ready to rush to her mum, and bumped into a woman. The woman grabbed her by the arm; the exceptionally tight grip scared Wanda. She was about to cry out when she noticed how beautiful the woman was; her hair was platinum blonde, and it was pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes were a unique shade of deep sky blue. She looked so gorgeous that Wanda fixated on her face. She looked into the woman's eyes, but behind all the beauty, she read fear and despair in her expression.

“Listen to me, listen, Wanda,” the woman said in a rush like she was pressed for time.

Both the words and the fact that the woman knew her name caught Wanda's attention. Wanda tried to pull her arm loose.

“Focus, little girl . . . you can save us all. Whatever you do, don't join them.” The woman looked up and signaled in a direction behind Wanda. “They would—”

“Keep your hands off, Celina.”

Wanda’s mum appeared beside them. To Wanda’s shock, her mother slapped the woman's cheek so hard the sound resonated even in the rain. The woman stood straight.

“I am sorry, Sofia,” she said, taking a deep breath.

Wanda looked between her mum and Celina, wondering what was going on.

Her mum spoke in an embittered tone, cutting Celina off. “Keep your hands off my daughter and take your bastard child away from us. Remember, Marcus Troms had only one wife and two children.” Sofia pointed her right forefinger and spoke in a low, harsh tone that only Celina and Wanda could hear.

Wanda heard and felt the detestation in her mother, like a plump enmity existed between her mum and Celina. She looked at Celina’s hopeless face as Sofia pulled Wanda away.

“Times have changed, Sofia,” Celina shouted. A heavy, thunderous sound broke out in the sky as Celina spoke. Wanda shivered as the entire graveyard shook.

Abruptly, Wanda woke up, her body jerking from the bed at a thunderous noise. She had been dreaming, but the sound continued to reverberate in her head. She heard footsteps, like someone in a hurry, and turned and looked in the other direction just as someone rushed out and slammed the door behind them.

For a moment, Wanda felt like she was still at the graveyard as the image of the shutting door mixed with the sound of rain and filled her vision. Then her eyes adjusted to her new environment as her massive migraine began to subside. She squinted to control the headache before opening her eyes.

The room looked like a hospital room; or like an insufficiently equipped clinic room that was perfect and newly built but rarely used. Wanda noticed the bed next to her; it was a hospital bed but had no I.V. stand, no usual hospital equipment. She was about to turn and observe the other side when her mother came rushing through the door, straight to her with wide-open arms.

Sofia hugged Wanda so tightly that Wanda felt choked for a few seconds. Still feeling weak, Wanda lifted her hands and wrapped them around her mother. Sofia pulled back but kept her hands around Wanda's shoulders.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Wanda's voice was low.

“What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” Wanda managed a faint smile. “I dreamed about Dad's funeral.”

“Oh, Wanda,” Sofia said with sympathy. “I don't want you having sad memories . . .”

“It's okay, Mum,” Wanda replied, trying to disregard her mum's compassion. Her father's past aroused her curiosity, and she wanted to discuss it with her mother, who had waved off such discussions in the past. “He's my dad, and I don't mind reminiscing about his funeral.” Wanda remembered Celina and her mother’s words when she spoke to her at the funeral.

“I’m happy you’re awake.” Sofia hugged her daughter again. “You were asleep for almost twenty-two hours,” Sofia added, and Wanda could hear the anxiety in her voice. “I was afraid, I must confess.”

“I'm all right, Mum.” Wanda could see the joy on her mum's face through her eyes, which had heavy bags of sleeplessness underneath lids that looked like they were going to pour out tears. “Do I have another sibling apart from Jason, Mum?” Wanda asked, trying to start up the discussion on Celina.

“Nooooo,” her mum answered with a squint.

“Celina . . .” Wanda said the name and halted. “Who is she, Mum? You've always avoided telling me who she is and why you treated her the way you did at Dad's funeral.”

Sofia looked down.

“We should discuss this some other time. Not now, Wanda.” Sofia paused. “I watched you all day while you were asleep.” She put a sincere smile on her face.

Her mum was still dressed in the clothes she’d worn the day before. Remembering that day, Wanda's body stiffened in horror.

“What is it?” Sofia tensed as if Wanda had passed an instant virus to her.

“What happened yesterday?” Wanda asked as despair filled her.

“The Vitrians arrived before the demon could . . . could kill you.” Sofia looked down.

“All I remember is the demon hitting you, I was almost unconscious from the panic, and I thought I saw arrows . . . arrows above me.”

“Yes, they were arrows meant for the demon; I thought they were meant for you, too, because they were coming in your direction. And then the demon jumped over you, and the arrows struck it.”

“The arrows would have struck me.” Wanda was fretful.

Bathe stepped into the room, interrupting their conversation and invading their privacy. “Yes . . .”

Sofia turned toward Bathe as he stepped to her side.

“The Vitrians are very precise,” she said. “They claim they knew the demon was going to leap at you. The arrows would have missed the demon if they had directed the arrows at it, so they targeted where it was going—your position.”

Wanda frowned. Shooting the arrows at her meant disaster for her, but fortunately, the creature had leaped as they predicted, so she was saved. It disturbed her that she might have been the actual target. But she waved the idea off, knowing the Vitrians were trying to save her. She was glad they showed up on time.

“I felt its weight on me,” she said.

“What weight?” her mother asked.

“The thing—the demon, it was like a huge rock pressing down on me. But it didn't feel like it wanted to hurt me.”

“No,” Bathe answered from behind Sofia. Bathe was not wearing the clothes he’d had on the day before. He was now dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a navy-blue long sleeve linen shirt with brown and white buttons. His black hair was combed and looked better than it had when the demon was chasing them.

“I mean,” Wanda corrected, looking into Bathe's eyes, but she wasn't concentrating on his features; she was busy mulling over everything. “I felt its strong arms when it held me, but . . . it was not trying to crush me.” She blinked several times, trying to remember, because she was partially unconscious when the incident happened.

“That demon was out to kill,” Bathe assured her in a firm tone. “I've never seen anything like it; it was different and did things I’ve never experienced demons do before. The rebels might be trying to kill you.”

Wanda's heart skipped a beat at the thought. She looked at Bathe's face but didn’t see conviction in his expression. It seemed Bathe didn't even believe what he'd just said about the rebels. The impression she had all through their journey about Bathe not truly being the man to help get them to safety suddenly returned.

“They know you are a threat to them, Wanda.” Bathe’s voice lacked strength.

Wanda was about to question this further when her mother interrupted.

“We should leave discussing the rebels till later.”

Wanda heard the frustration in her mum's voice and knew she hadn’t really accepted that the arrows were meant for the demon.

“Wanda should rest now,” Sofia added.

“Where am I?” Wanda asked as she looked away from Bathe toward her mum. They both smiled.

“You are in the medical section of a Vitrian Fortress,” Sofia answered.

“The Vitrian Fortress?” Wanda looked around the room once more, studying the items. She noticed a hospital room divider folded in the corner of the room. The equipment she'd expected to see was available but looked untouched. The hospital must rarely be used.

The relief that they’d finally made it to the Vitrians' Fortress, the place known to have supernatural protection against demons, overwhelmed her. She turned back to Bathe and her mum with a smile on her face. They were safe from the enormous grayish-white creature that had the strength to overcome the power in Bathe's Praying Méndez.

“Jason.” Wanda thought of her brother and spoke his name at the same time. She raised her eyes to see Sofia's expression instantly turn melancholic. Wanda looked at Bathe for answers but noticed Bath place his hand on Sofia's shoulder as she sat in front of Wanda.

“Jason is still in the emergency operating room,” Bathe answered. “The doctors took some blood when we arrived and went straight to operate on him.”

“And?” Wanda demanded, with some reservations about the outcome and what Bathe was going to say.

“They are still at it.” Bathe was breathless, and Wanda could see he was worried about the issue too.

She stared at Bathe, this cryptic man who suddenly looked concerned for Jason's survival. Wanda could not figure him out.

Uncertainty, despair, and a bit of nausea engulfed her.

“That . . . that's more than a whole day gone,” Wanda said, and instantly regretted saying it when she saw her mother's panicked reaction.

Sofia shook her head. She looked the way she had the day she got the news about Wanda’s father's death.

“Jason will be all right, I'm sure,” Sofia said, but her words broke, and her voice unmasked her lack of confidence.

“Can I see him?”

“No, Wanda,” Bathe replied.

“He's in the operating room now,” Sofia said. “I was only allowed to see him briefly when we arrived as he was being wheeled to the room.”

Wanda looked down, dejected and somewhat frustrated. She was on the brink of tears but realized that would only break her mother down completely. Wanda couldn't help but feel that Jason was her responsibility and she had let him down. She let him out of her sight only for a moment at school, and now he was dying. Her mum's warning, every morning as they left for school that she should watch out for Jason, was painfully drilled into her heart.

Unwittingly, Wanda's mind recalled how Jason would narrate their dad's stories to his friends at school. How he would tell them stories about fighting demons and overcoming them, and how he made the stories sound so convincing, although he wasn't sure of their veracity. She had no doubt whatsoever that Jason would have put up whatever kind of fight he could once he knew he was with a demon. Unlike her, Jason never doubted or stopped fantasizing about the existence of demons and angels. She knew their mother spent a lot of time with him, trying to wipe the stories from his memory.

Reminiscing on how curious Jason was about demons and their tales brought pain to Wanda's body; nonetheless, she withheld her tears.

“I should have gone to the library with him . . .”

“You shouldn't blame yourself.”

Wanda heard a deep and husky voice behind Bathe and raised her head to see a tall, bulky man next to him. She wasn't sure how the man got there. She must have been totally out of it while in her short-lived trance to miss his entrance.

The man was handsome—sort of. His face was firm and tough-looking. No form of a smile. He looked as plain and direct as any tough person could be and reminded Wanda of her vice-principal; although her vice-principal was much shorter, he always wore the same straight look on his face.

“Wanda,” her mother said. “This is Alexis, the head of the Vitrian elders here at the fortress.”

“Alex is—Alexis,” Wanda reiterated, trying to pronounce the name. She sat still, as stiff as a chicken left in the freezer for days.

It wasn't Alexis' name or his height that surprised Wanda. It was the cicatrix on his face. The scar ran from the side of his left eye to just above his left ear; it cut deep into his cheek and down past the left side of his lips. It was deep and looked impossible for him to have survived whatever caused it. He didn't seem bothered by Wanda staring at him. Neither pain nor hatred could be seen in his eyes.

“You can call me Alex if Alexis sounds unusual,” the man said, and Wanda got a hold of herself when she heard his deep voice.

“Sorry,” she said.

“It's okay.” Alexis smiled coldly. The smile was barely noticeable; it then faded away as quickly as it came. “I see it is true. You can see.”

Wanda's expression turned into bewilderment; what did he mean?

“You can see my scar,” he clarified, and then gazed directly into Wanda's eyes. “I got the scar some years ago,” he said like he had read Wanda's mind and needed to tell her. “By a powerful demon, one of the strongest I've ever fought. It took the Healing Méndez to save my life.”

“I don't understand,” Wanda said.

Sofia took her daughter by the hand and explained, “Humans can't see demons, nor can they see the wounds caused by demon talons or bites.”

“Wow!” Alexis said. “You definitely are The Chosen.”

Bathe wiggled uncomfortably when Alexis said this.

Alexis squinted and focused his attention on Wanda. His face was as severe and as plain as possible, like his smiling muscles were removed when he received the scar. His stare made her uncomfortable; his looks, his voice, and his persona were all domineering. He had trimmed blond hair and brown eyes that sparked with a strong sense of strength and confidence, which made Wanda uneasy.

“What happened to your brother is not your fault,” Alexis said. “You shouldn't, and we would not let you, carry such a burden. It was beyond your control. You did not have the power nor the knowledge to handle the situation.” He said the last words gently. “You were kept away from knowing the Vitrian ways.”

Relief flooded over Wanda after hearing those words from this huge man who had fought a powerful demon. A mountain of guilt lifted off her, as if Alexis could read all that was going through her mind concerning Jason.

A smirk followed Alexis' words, dry and empty as the Sahara Desert. Wanda didn't have to ask him; she could see the scar had caused severe damage to his nerves, making his expression humdrum.

Sofia, on the other hand, twitched the instant Alexis spoke. Wanda turned to her mother and saw her looking straight at her. She had a smile on her face, but Wanda could tell it was fake. There was something, like some history between her and Alexis, that did not sit right. She couldn't place her finger on it . . . perhaps hatred—some animosity that existed in the past.

“I think we should give you some space to rest,” Bathe said with a smile that Wanda could see was more genuine than her mum’s and Alexis’.

“Actually, I'm fine. I would like to go home now,” Wanda replied. She didn’t know what to make of everything. Creatures chasing her and Jason, her mum holding on to past secrets, Bathe acting funny like he was hiding something, and now Alexis, who seemed to be friendly and warm but expressionless.

“Well, about that—” her mum started when a nurse walked in.

“Ventress would like to have a word with you now, Mrs. Troms,” the nurse said.

“Okay, thanks.” Sofia stood up immediately, and Wanda reckoned it must be something urgent, probably something about Jason.

“I would like to come along.” Wanda tried to get up.

“No, darling,” Sofia smiled. “You need to rest.” She kissed her daughter on the forehead.

“Seriously, I'm all right,” Wanda said.

“Maybe you should let the doctors decide on that,” Alexis said. He still looked straight at Wanda like there was something he needed from her.

“Yes, I think so, too,” Bathe agreed. “And the nurse will bring you some food, so please eat well even if the doctor says you can leave the hospital.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Sofia used her stern tone like whenever she wanted her daughter to stick to the plan. “We have to make sure you are totally all right.”

Wanda was surprised at the statement, but she expected nothing less. Jason was in the medical center, so her mum would not want to see her other child wounded or ending up in the operating room as well. But she had a feeling her mum hated agreeing to Alexis’ and Bathe's suggestions.

“There's someone I want you to meet,” Sofia said with a beautiful smile, anticipation in her eyes. “He will keep you company while I am with Ventress.”

“You want me to meet someone?” Wanda couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice as her mother walked toward the door.

Sofia stepped out, and a few seconds later stepped back into the hospital room.

Wanda gasped and shouted, “Petter!”

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 7

 

Chapter 7

 

The instant Petter stepped into the room, excitement and anxiety swept over Wanda at once, such that she felt she was running a temperature.

Wanda shrugged off the anxiety quickly. She was happy to see Petter, someone she could confide in and share the thoughts she'd been having. She wasn’t sure if Petter knew any about what was going on or if her mother had invited him to come because of her. She was excited to see a familiar face, someone she was close to and could communicate with. She was about to get off the bed when Bathe put his hand to her shoulder.

“Let the doctors confirm you can get up before you do so,” Bathe warned.

“But I have no cuts or demon poison,” Wanda said. The statement was more of a question than a comment.

“No, you do not,” Bathe replied. “All the same, it's proper to confirm that you're fit to get up or fit to go home before you decide on doing so.”

“Home?” Wanda said hopefully as she remembered how they had rushed out of the city.

“Yes,” Sofia replied and smiled. “Home, here in the fortress.”

Wanda heard her mother very well and it confused her, she wondered how come they have a home in the Vitrian Fortress. She eyes examined her mother’s, she had expected her mother to say house and not home. She recalled Bathe had explained in the car when they were on the road that her father was a Vitrian. The word home as her mother used it meant the place was a home for them and it baffled her, but she didn’t question her mother. There was a lot on her mind and she wanted to discuss with her mother when Bathe and Alexis were not around.

“If you need anything . . .” Alexis' deep voice filled the room as he sat down on the bed next to Wanda. Even in his sitting position, his height was visible. A doctor and nurse stepped in as he spoke. “Anything at all, just let me know. Your father was a good friend and a wonderful Vitrian, and we will do all we can to ensure Jason, you, and your mum are well and safe. Losing him and Xavier was a great loss to this fortress.”

“Thanks.” Wanda raised her head and looked at him. She was shocked to see the scar gone. Alexis was handsome, with a cleft chin and dimples like Sean Connery. His face was now smooth as a baby's. He was smiling genuinely, so affectionately that Wanda was befuddled.

“Your scar,” Wanda muttered. Alexis, Bathe, and Petter smiled, knowing Wanda was bemused.

“Let's give the doctor some space.” Alexis got up with the smile still on his face. Wanda was surprised that such a person could exist. A minute ago, his expression was as cold as ice, but now with his scar gone, he looked lovely and caring. He had a daunting presence, even beyond his height and stature, something that said she was not worthy to come near him.

“Petter, I am sure you can fill Wanda in on what happened to my face once the doctors have finished.”

“Yes sir.”

Petter answered so formally, it perplexed Wanda. She wondered if Petter knew Alexis before now. She watched them as they walked toward the door and stepped out. The doctor and nurse moved toward Wanda and commenced their checks.

Two hours later, Wanda heard someone clear his throat, and she turned to the door.

“Petter,” she said, faintly surprised she hadn’t known he was there already. “How long have you been standing there?”

“You mean here by the door?” Petter walked toward her.

“Yes.”  Wanda turned back to the mirror she was facing.

“Thirty seconds, maybe a minute,” Petter replied. “Hope you liked the food.”

“Yes, I did.” Wanda looked at the bedside table and the barely touched food on it. She turned back to the mirror. “So, what were you doing standing by the door for half a minute?” Wanda tried to pack her hair up in a bun.

“Watching you,” he replied affectionately. “You look beautiful already, you know. You don't have to worry too much about your hair or appearance.”

Wanda's hand twitched, and she blushed, her cheeks almost turning rouge in her reflection. She and Petter had been close before, and she might have had the feeling he liked her at some point, but he'd never used such words with her. She stared at him through the mirror as he stood behind her. It was like the boy she knew had suddenly turned into a man in twenty-four hours.

“How did my clothes get here?” she asked, looking at herself and the clothes she had changed into.

“Bathe and a few of the Vitrians went back to your house earlier today to get them. You have more here in the fortress.”

The statement made Wanda remember the incident on the road and the creature that attacked them. Her hands trembled, and she couldn't coordinate them over her hair very well.

“Can I pin that up for you?”

Petter butted into her thoughts, and his affectionate attitude again threw Wanda off balance.

Still amazed by his sudden charm, Wanda's muscles twitched as she placed the pin in his palm. He touched her hair, and a zap of electricity went through her body. There was some sort of chemistry between them, and that gave her the jitters. Before now, she could have been playful with him without experiencing anything emotional.

She looked in the mirror at what she was wearing; black jeans and an embellished, sleeveless purple top. The design complimented her blond hair and accentuated her figure. She’d not thought much about her shape, but Petter's sudden show of affection and care made her more aware of her body. To her surprise, she began to assess herself, how she looked, her waistline, and the pair of skinny jeans she had on.

“Done!” Petter said, and Wanda shuddered again, a bit uncomfortable as his hands dropped to her shoulders. It was not possible that Petter would hit on her.

He ran his hands down both of her arms simultaneously. “Everything will be all right,” he said, his mouth close to her right ear.

She turned. “Petter, please . . . stop!” Her words came out fast and shaky.

“Did I do something wrong?” Petter backed up a step. His voice was apologetic. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I . . .” Wanda looked away, trying not to make eye contact with him. This was something she could have done without batting an eyelid the day before. She could have put her hands in his hair and run her fingers through it while Tutu complained. “I—we should go. By the way, what happened to Alexis' face, and why are you here?”

“Okay. One thing at a time.”

He smiled, and Wanda saw the Petter she had always known behind the smile.

She looked at him properly, almost assessing him. He was well dressed in a beautiful gray Calvin Klein shirt with a pair of khakis worn over Nike sneakers, his blond hair nicely trimmed.

“We have the whole evening,” Petter responded, interrupting her assessment. “Why don't I walk you home? On our way, I can fill you in on everything.”

“Okay,” Wanda said, closing and opening her eyes to take her mind off Petter's subtle flirtations. “After you.” She looked at the door, signaling she wanted him to be in front. She did not want to imagine Petter staring at her lecherously from behind.

As soon as they stepped out of the room, Wanda noticed the change in the environment. Nurses in white and a few doctors hurried along the corridor. They stepped from several rooms, opening and closing doors as they walked toward the end of the corridor. They carried different medical items and folders.

“This way,” Petter said, motioning for Wanda to move faster.

She noticed some of the nurses were staring at her. Some looked aggrieved to see her, but Wanda couldn't understand why.

“Petter,” she called, covering her face and hurrying to catch up to meet him.

“Ignore them,” Petter murmured to her as she got to his side.

Wanda froze as she looked at the vast and enormous room the corridor opened into and the number of people and patients inside.

The hospital was so busy! Her hospital room had given the false impression that the hospital was abandoned. She was now looking at bandaged people, lying or sitting up on different hospital beds. About twenty of them had tubes and I.V.s connected to their bodies. She could perceive it in the air, that hospital smell she had always hated because it reminded her of when they went to view her dad's body. But her mother would not let her into the room where her father was.

“Wanda . . . Wanda!” Petter shouted as Wanda wrapped her arms around herself as she shivered.

“What happened here?” she cried out.

Petter ignored the question. “We should go. I will explain,” he said brusquely.

Wanda had barely taken a step when she heard a whisper close by.

“That's the girl.”

She turned to the side to see who was whispering, but she couldn't figure out who had spoken. Five men looked at her intensely. Bandages covered several parts of their body. The most severely wounded had bandages wrapped around his face with bloodstains on the dressing.

Wanda saw about twenty others in the room, all with several injuries, some with broken legs suspended high on their sickbeds. For some, it was their hands, and for others, they lay moaning and groaning in agonizing pain.

She didn't need it explained; Wanda could see the pain in their eyes as one after the other, including the nurses, turned their heads to stare at her, some with an expressionless gaze, some with a bit of hope, and others with despair. It was apparent none were sure what to expect from her. The truth was, Wanda wasn’t either. And the sudden new life of being The Chosen child of the Vitrian became even more confusing to her.

They stepped out at the other end of the vast room, and Petter made a left turn, leading them out of the hospital.

“What happened to those people?” Wanda asked, feeling the heat of the late setting sun.

“Demon battle,” Petter answered, and just hearing the answer gave Wanda chills.

“Is that how it is every time—I mean, when Vitrians fight demons?” she asked before she remembered how petrifying the battles her dad had described to her were. And she was sure he had toned them down because she was a little child.

For the first time since waking up, Wanda suddenly remembered Eric and the dreadful scene she had witnessed as the demon pinned him down with its talons.

“Not always,” Petter said, not looking at her. He was already walking toward the hospital's main gate. “I heard those men in there fought strong demons. Demons that had not been seen by anyone in the last century. They were overpowered.”

“They seemed to be in agony.”

“Of course they are, and the Healing Méndez is not here, so they have to bear the pain and wait for their bodies to heal as any normal human does—well, that is, those who will make it.”

Petter said his last words in an unusual way, and Wanda felt the pain in his voice. She thought about the Healing Méndez while Petter continued.

“Those were the men who went to rescue Jason, and it was during the battle that one of the demons poisoned Jason.”

Wanda's anger boiled when she heard they were the men who saved her brother's life.

“The rebels would get rid of Jason because they can't have him,” Wanda said, thinking out loud as she recalled what Bathe had said. Animosity encompassed her. “We must find the Healing Méndez!”

“Well, more like they would like to get to you through Jason,” Petter said, ignoring her comment about the Healing Méndez.

“What does that mean?” She squinted, frowning.

Petter turned to her and smiled. “You don't know, do you?”

Wanda shook her head like a little girl. She could see from his smile that Petter had a confidence here at the fortress which he didn't have at school.

“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “You’re the one the rebels really want.”

“Me? I thought it was Jason too.”

“Well, yes, but they can't confirm Jason will be of any help yet. He is younger, and they don’t know if he can see demons yet.”

“So why hurt him? Why hurt Jason if they can't confirm he can see demons?” Wanda couldn’t conceal his vexation.

“Come here.” Petter turned. “Let's take the main street so I can show you the entire fortress properly.”

Wanda followed him as he continued.

“For one, I think they don't want us to know—”

“Us.” The word caught Wanda's attention.

“Us?” Petter looked confused.

“You used the word us,” Wanda said.

“What?” He smiled. “I'm not around here by mere coincidence, you know. I know about the Vitrians because I am one.” He paused as Wanda watched him in surprise. “Anyway, let's talk about me later.” Petter waved the issue off. “Since you have the power of The Chosen, I think the rebels would like to keep Jason silent in case he later shows tremendous powers also—”

“What tremendous power?” Wanda moaned. “Even if it means killing him, how can people be so callous?” The thought of the rebels treating her brother with such wickedness filled her mind with aggravation. She believed neither Jason, nor her mum, nor she deserved what the insurgents had done to them. “How can they be so cruel? What has Jason done to deserve this?”

Petter let her vent for a while and then continued. “I believe my second theory is an even stronger reason why Jason was poisoned.”

“What's this theory?” Wanda was all ears. She walked quickly to make sure she didn't miss a single thing Petter had to say. They had always been close, chatting and telling each other secrets. The only person more intimate to her than Petter was Tutu, who always tried to keep Petter away from Wanda.

“You. It's because of you, Wanda.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” Petter's eyes revealed no doubt as he looked straight into Wanda's. “I think the rebels are trying to force you to come to them.”

Without knowing why, Wanda's stomach knotted. She couldn't imagine being in the hands of the rebels and what they would do to her. If they poisoned Jason and used demons which had left so many Vitrians wounded and in agony, she could not fathom what kind of pain or suffering they would inflict on her to get whatever they needed out of her. Her stomach made dangerous noises. She wondered if she was going to gag at any moment.

∞∞∞

Bathe stood with Alexis outside the premises of the medical hall after Wanda left with Petter.

“Did you send a Vitrian to Wanda's school?” Bathe asked, trying to get information about the boy Wanda claimed she saw fight with the demon at her school.

“A Vitrian . . .” Alexis' eyes showed confusion. “Petter is in her school, her class. . . .”

“I know Petter is, but did you send anyone else?” Bathe believed Alexis knew something about the boy.

“No. I didn't.” Alexis looked at Bathe suspiciously. “Did you see any other Vitrians there? Petter told me he was the only Vitrian in the entire school.”

“No.” Bathe looked away. “The rebels must have been playing with Wanda's mind when she saw their demon.” He waited a long pause, pretending he was pondering deeply. “You know the rebels will never give the Healing Méndez back to us,” he said in a frustrated tone, turning back and looking straight at Alexis.

“What would you have me do?” Alexis said.

“You know what we have to do, Alexis,” Bathe said, keeping his voice firm. He was convinced he had the solution. “The rebels want Wanda Troms; you have said it yourself time and again . . . we have to send her out there.”

“Bathe!” Alexis said, his eyes widening. “She just got here—and you and Marcus were such good friends—we should be protecting her.”

“I'll protect her,” Bathe said. “With her in our care, the rebels will talk and negotiate. If you want, I can present it to the other Vitrian elders at the meeting.”

Alexis grew silent. “You know Sofia will never consent to it.”

“We just have to tell her and the elders.” Bathe was certain this was the best option, and he could see Alexis was pondering on it too. “Even if Sofia objects, we have to let the elders know. A lot of people are sick, and they will die if we don't get that Healing Méndez.”

“But the girl, she's The Chosen . . .” Alexis halted, his eyes moved to and fro, searching Bathe's expression. “You don’t think the rebels will kill her.”

“Why are we relying on prophecies given years ago?” Bathe said. “If this prophecy is real and Wanda is 'The Chosen,' she’ll survive, won’t she?” Bathe repeated the phrase Alexis had used. A phrase used whenever they spoke about the prophecy of The Chosen. “We can't let everyone in there die,” he pointed at the hospital, “because of a prophecy we want to believe at all cost. If you want, Alexis, I am ready to raise the issue at the elders’ meeting.”

“No,” Alexis replied instantly. “I don't want you to be the one to raise it. I will do that. I am the head of the elders, after all.” He looked away. “In fact, I think it is better to leave the entire elders’ group out of the issue. They would gladly go along with this because they know a lot of people are at the point of death, but I want you to explain the scene with the unusual demon you met yesterday.”

Bathe raised his eyebrows sheepishly. He’d gotten Alexis' attention, and his plans to get Wanda out of the fortress were on track. “And what are you proposing?”

“I will mention your suggestion to a few elders and get Wanda to come over.”

Alexis was playing politics; Bathe knew Alexis was going to involve the elders close to him and not those who would object to his ideas.

“And how do you intend to get Wanda to this meeting?”

Alexis smiled. “I have my ways, old friend; leave that to me. I want you, on the other hand, to support whatever views Wanda has. You and Petter are the only ones she's close to here, so I don't want you suggesting or saying things to her that might make her not trust you.”

Bathe responded with a smile. He preferred Alexis' suggestion over what he’d had in mind before.

“But promise me, Bathe.” Alexis looked severe behind his disfigured face. “You will protect Wanda with everything you have. I will not forgive myself if anything happens to her. Losing Marcus was a painful occurrence to all of us. I want her back here safely.”

“Oh, don't worry about that,” Bathe said. “I am bringing her back, and with the Healing Méndez.”

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 8

 

Chapter 8

 

The information Petter shared with Wanda distressed her. Deep pain drilled inside her increased her hatred for the rebels. She looked at Petter and noticed Petter’s expression change when he saw her eyes. She knew he could sense her pain.

“I think Ventress will heal Jason,” he said.  

“Ventress . . . that's the person my mum went to see?”

“Yes. She's the head of the medical unit,” Petter said. “A creepy woman, I must say, with the way she talks and moves.”

“So the rebels are trying to use Jason to get to me?” she said.

“Yes, they are, and they would . . .” He stopped walking and held her by the arm.

“What is it?” Wanda looked up at Petter. She felt like falling into his arms and weeping. She now understood what other students at school meant when they said they wanted to be in the arms of their boyfriends when they felt distressed or despair. She felt like weeping in someone's arms right now. Now that she was much older, she could understand what her mum must have suffered, having no one to cry to and no one to comfort her when her father died.

“The delay when the demon attacked you guys on the road allowed the poison to spread deep into Jason's body,” Petter said. “I think that’s why it's taking some time to heal him.”

“Then we have to get the Healing Méndez,” Wanda said. Her voice was firm and direct like she had her mind made. “I need to find the rebel and get—”

“No, no!” Petter shouted. “This isn't one of those bad girl stories, where you sneak out of the house against your mum's wishes to meet up with friends at a party.”

Wanda fell silent. But Petter still looked anxious.

“Jason will be fine; Ventress is very good at what she does. She has healed people with injuries and poisonous bites far worse than Jason's.”

Wanda looked away as thoughts of her little brother took over her mind. Anger boiled in her toward the rebel for what they did to Jason. She wondered why the rebels could be so cruel to poison a young teenage boy. She pondered on what must have happened when Alfred took Jason and how actually did the demon poison him? Abruptly, she felt Petter shake her arm, making her turn back to him.

“Yes, the Vitrian need to get the Healing Méndez back, but I don’t want you thinking it is your task.” Petter said. “With it, Ventress can heal Jason, just like she healed Alexis' face.”

Mentioning Alexis' face distracted Wanda from thoughts about Jason's situation. She had seen the huge deformity on Alexis' face when he came in, and it had disappeared by the time she left the hospital room.

“How did she heal the scar? I . . . I saw it.” Wanda was unsure about what she had seen or not seen.

“Yes, you did see it,” Petter said. “Ventress has a unique gift; she has the power to heal poisonous bites and unusual lacerations caused by demons.”

“So is he healed? Is that why it disappeared?”

“Yes, Alexis is healed,” Petter said. “Though the scar is still there. They don’t disappear. We all have scars from our battles with demons.”

Wanda stared at him as he spoke, still confused.

“Wait,” he said and pulled his sleeve up. She saw a thin line on his right arm. “I got this in a battle a few months ago.”

Wanda gaped at the extended cut and the stitches across it.

“With Ventress' unique gifts,” Petter said, “the demon scratches can’t be seen unless I want you to see them, even with your ability to see demons.”

“Alexis allowed me to see the scar.” Wanda put the puzzle together. “He wanted to verify that I can see things . . . demons.”

“Yes,” Petter smiled. “He told me he was going to do it when we spoke outside the hospital room before he stepped inside to meet with you.”

“How did Alexis get such a deep scar?” Wanda’s face puckered, remembering the bizarre look of the skin.

“A demon,” Petter said and started walking again. “A powerful and unusual demon, one no one had ever seen before. Even Alexis is silent about it. He said it’s better not to scare people or get them worried. He got the scar a long time ago, about . . .”

When Petter took a while to finish, Wanda prompted, “How long ago?”

“I can't remember, actually. Almost ten years ago now—I think.”

“That's a long time ago.”

“Yes. I don't think anyone has seen any unusual demons, nor had such a scar, since then. Bathe told the elders about the demon he saw—the one that attacked you guys yesterday; he said it was different also.”

“Do you think it was the same demon Alexis fought?” The image of the grayish-white creature came back to her memory.

“No,” Petter said casually, almost smiling. “Alexis explained how brutal the demon that gave him the scar was when he fought it. I don't think it was anything as simple as what Bathe said you guys encountered yesterday.”

“Simple . . .” Wanda wondered what was simple about the creature that roared so loud and tore off the roof of the Audi with ease. “Maybe Alexis killed the demon,” she said.

“I would think so, Alexis is a great fighter.” Petter turned to her. “Well, enough of all this,” he said, slipping his hand into hers. He took two steps farther up a hill. “Let me show you the entire fortress quickly before we get to your house.”

Wanda followed him and allowed him to help her up the side of the hill they were climbing. When Wanda turned around, she became awestricken at the view of the fortress. The fortress was in a valley by the side of a mountain. The view of the mountains, the valley, and the entire surroundings was priceless; it was one of those places one could only dream of or imagine in one’s mind.

There were so many houses at the fortress, possibly over a hundred. One after the other, the houses and roads showed that the entire fortress was a planned community like an estate she had heard existed in some other countries. It had an uneven fence that ran around it. Situated at the edge of the mountain were houses at a higher level than others, and the roads linking the streets were not perfectly straight.

“Where are we?” She didn't turn to Petter. She knew he was staring, perhaps smiling at how astonished she looked.

“Trollveggen,” he answered.

Wanda turned to look at the train and tourists some miles away.

“This fortress started as a camping site over two centuries ago. The few Vitrians in the city would come over here; some pulled their campers here in the summer, and together, they spent the summer here as Vitrians. Little by little, people started building proper houses until it became a massive community.”

“The tourists?” Wanda focused on the campers and tourists some distance away.

“They can't see the fortress,” he said.

“People don't know this place exists . . . the government?”

“No, the power around the fortress is supernatural. No one can see it except Vitrians.” He waited a few seconds to allow her to view the surroundings like she had just found a piece of new jewelry and had to admire it, over and over again.

“The major streets in the fortress that you need to know are the four big ones.” Petter pointed, using his finger to describe the crooked roads. “The main roads are designed to run from North to South and from East to West. Although you can see the main roads are not straight, they have a crossing at the center over there. The massive two-story building at the center is called 'the House'; it's the council of elders' hall, where the elders meet to discuss each issue.”

Wanda looked at him and turned back to the tall white building in the middle of the fortress. It looked beautiful with a modern-day clear glass design so anyone sitting inside and working could enjoy the lovely summer sun outside.

“Alexis has an office there?”

“Yes, he does, at the top level. People go there to discuss things with him. You can always go there if you need to talk to him.”

“It's going to take ages to understand and navigate the streets . . . and the houses, they all look alike,” Wanda said, staring at the maze-like design.

“Nah!” Petter shrugged. “All you need to remember are the four main streets, which intersect at the House.” He pointed to the streets again. “The one from the hospital is called the Healing road. The one to the east is the Praying Road, then the Golden Road, and the Vitrian Road. Those names, except the street called Vitrian, represent the three Méndezes that form the original Greek Méndez.”

As if he had completed a task, Petter suddenly jumped down and stretched his hand out again to help Wanda down. “Go to Alexis if you need anything,” he said with a distant smile that made his words feel insincere. He said them like he'd been told to.

She looked into his eyes. Where had this sudden care and assistance come from? They had been close, but he had never initiated interactions, even when they had to do group work together.

“No, thanks,” Wanda said, waving away his hand. She bent down and leapt, landing smoothly on her feet a few steps from Petter. “Where to next?”

“Your house,” he muttered and paused for a moment. “I don't mean to seem overprotective.”

It was like Petter could see Wanda's thoughts displayed in the air in front of him as he focused his attention straight ahead into the horizon.

“I want you to be okay.”

“I am okay, Petter,” she answered. “So stop acting like I am your responsibility . . . stop acting like my paid bodyguard and just take me home.”

“This way, then. We're going to cross Praying Road toward the houses by Vitrian Road.” Petter went quiet.

Wanda felt stupid. Petter was only trying to be a bit nicer than usual to help her feel at home.

“So you and Bathe know each other well . . . I mean, being Vitrians and all?” Wanda tried to change the topic and control her thoughts about the way she'd been treating Petter.

“Yes, of course.”

“Do you think he . . .” Wanda wanted to ask about Bathe's loyalty.

“What is it?” Petter turned back to observe her.

“I don't know,” Wanda replied. “I keep having this feeling Bathe knows more about the demon that attacked me at school and the one that attacked Jason.”

“Who, Bathe?” Petter smirked, and Wanda could see how foolish it was reporting a Vitrian to another when she barely understood what they were all about. “Bathe is a loyal elder here; if anyone would betray the Vitrians, I am sure it wouldn't be Bathe.”

Wanda fell silent and studied Petter. She could hear the sincerity in his voice just like in school when he had to explain things she and Tutu didn't understand in a class.

“Sorry,” she said as they crossed Praying Road.

“For what?” He looked confused wondering what she was referring to.

“For pushing you off when you were only trying to be nice.”

He waved it off. “I want to see you smile, nothing more. You haven't really smiled, and I heard it’s been rough for you since I left you at school yesterday. Alexis and Bathe told me when they stepped out of your room in the medical hall that the only time you smiled was the moment you saw me at the entrance of the room.”

Wanda didn't need a crystal ball to remember her last day and a half or to know she had hardly smiled from the moment she laid her eyes on the demon at school.

“So how did you become a Vitrian?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Me?” Petter looked surprised. “You don't become one; you are born one. It's a community of families that have grown over several centuries.”

She was about to ask more questions when he said, “Here we are—your home! Well I should call it your house, it belongs to your dad. This is where your dad and mum lived while they were at the fortress.”

They both stepped up the whitewashed staircase in front of the house and straight to the entrance. Petter was about to touch the door when a woman pulled it open.

“Where have you children been?” she said sharply. “I've been waiting for hours.”

“I had to show Wanda the fortress,” Petter said. “I took her to the little hill.”

“Oh, that’s a good spot to view the fortress,” the woman said. “Anyway, I have to go now. The house is clean and in order.”

Wanda was surprised the woman had cleaned the house. “Thanks,” she said, embarrassed by the woman’s stare.

“Don't feel bad about anything,” the woman said like she could read Wanda’s thoughts. “You were chosen, and you don't have to hate yourself for that, even if others do. And I am sorry about your father. He was such a nice man—he had a good spirit.”

Wanda smiled stiffly, barely pulling up the corners of her lips.

“Okay, I’m off,” the woman said. “I was told Sofia would be home soon too.” She mentioned Wanda's mum like they had known each other for years, but that didn’t surprise Wanda anymore; she knew a lot of people in the fortress knew her mum, probably better than she did.

“Thanks,” Wanda said once more as the woman descended the stairs and walked away.

The house was clean and neat; nothing about it said it had been deserted for years. The furnishings were simple, and yet everything in the house was a matching chocolate color; the sofa, frames, dining table next to the sofa, the little rug in front of the sofas, and the coffee table on the rug. The walls cream-colored, making the room appear a lot more spacious than it was.

Wanda could see her mother's touch in the way the house was designed and decorated. The walls in some parts were transparent glass while in other parts, they were constructed of chocolate-colored wood or painted cream.

“Your parents used to live here,” Petter said as Wanda did reconnaissance on the house. “They left when you were two or three.” He shrugged as if that was all he knew.

“It’s beautiful,” Wanda managed. “Simple but well-decorated. I can see my mum's touch on it.”

“I have something to tell you, Wanda.”

Wanda turned to see Petter standing right in front of her. His eyes were not scary or worried but warm. His head bent down as he looked into her eyes, and his breath was as beautiful as she could imagine. It smelled really good like flowers.

She must have been seriously pushing him off at school not to notice his breath and the robust aroma of his cologne. His eyes were as caring as she had ever seen them; they penetrated her as he took both her hands. Though Petter showed no sign of trepidation, something in her told her Petter had practiced what was unfolding before coming to the medical hall to meet her.

Wanda was tired and wanted something to take away the pain she still felt. The walk from the medical hall had helped, but the instant she stepped into the house, the stress had all come back. She wanted to cuddle her pillow and cry to let out the pain and agony.

“I have always wanted a moment with you, a moment where I could share my heart with you,” Petter said tenderly, and no doubt, he had chosen the right moment to let the words out. She had pushed him off before, and she wasn't going to do that now. She was tired and welcomed the affection, something to take the soreness on her mind away, to take away the endless thoughts of her dad's death, Jason's comatose state, and the rebels that were after her.

He moved his head downward, and she knew what he intended to do. Her thoughts blew into a thousand confetti at once. Wanda could recall several girls at school talking about their first kisses. She had not been privileged to be kissed by anyone, due to her mother's incessant shield. Her mum had protected her, picking her up and dropping her off at every outing. Sofia scrutinized Wanda thoroughly before allowing her to go to a friend's house. Boys were off-limits, so she never even went to Petter's house in the city.

A part of her warned that Petter was acting unusual, but she brushed it off. It was just Petter. And she wouldn’t be the first girl to date the boy next door.

Although she knew kisses wouldn’t take away sorrow or pain, she didn’t mind the distraction. She wanted to feel happy and good. Even though she did not feel anything beyond friendship for Petter, she was about to close her eyes and let the moment carry her pain away when something punched the entrance door, and it burst open with a loud bang.

Wanda jolted and flew out of Petter's arms. She and Petter turned toward the door to see Sofia rushing into the house.

Sofia's hands were on her face. She wept profusely, like pouring rain that had decided not to stop. Wanda had only seen her mum weep like that once before in her lifetime: when her father was proclaimed dead.

Staring at her mother in horror, she could think of no other reason that would cause such tears—except that Jason’s case had become hopeless or he had been proclaimed dead!

Wanda's hands fidgeted in trepidation and deep animosity for the agony the rebels had caused her family. The tears Wanda had held back for so long began to run down her cheeks before she could ask her mum what the problem was.

She could infer from her mum's cry that Jason was probably dead.

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 9

 

Chapter 9

 

The world seemed to rotate faster the instant Sofia rushed into her fortress home, sobbing. Wanda stood, frozen at seeing her mother in such a state. She could guess what the news was, but she needed confirmation.

“Mum!” Wanda said. Tears traced their way down her eyes to her cheeks.

Sofia took her hands away from her face and looked at Wanda. The hair on her head was ruffled and damp. Her mother must have cried all the way from the hospital.

Sofia hurried to her daughter and threw her arms around Wanda.

It wasn't the same grip she had experienced a few hours before when her mum had seen her and hugged her joyously at the hospital. This was different; it was more like a grip of survival, like holding firmly to one's child to ascertain the child was there, alive and well, that there was hope to carry on living.

“Mum—what is happening?” Wanda wiped away the tears on her cheeks as her mother held her. With her father gone, she was used to comforting her mother whenever she was depressed.

Sofia pulled away. “Jason, Jason—my little baby,” she groaned.

Her mother called out his name like she did whenever she was proud of him, and the burning hatred gathering in Wanda's mind intensified.

“Is he all right, Mum?” Wanda looked at her mum.

“No.” Sofia shook her head. Her lips trembled, trying to make more words, and tears poured from her eyes. “He got worse . . . he’ll die in a few days . . . actually, in three days, Ventress said. She can't help him without the Healing Méndez.”

Wanda felt like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. For a few seconds, she became lost in a hurting reverie. She remembered how she had rushed back into school to look for Jason, but it was too late. Her mother had always told her she should get Jason after school, make sure they left school together, and come straight home. Wanda heeded the warnings except on that one day, the last day of school for the semester. Excitement about the trip to Paris had overrun her thoughts as she rushed out with Tutu. She had always thought her mum was weak whenever she freaked out concerning their whereabouts, but now she regretted all the times she had looked down on her mother. She hated herself for the unnecessary comments made behind her mum’s back.

Agonizing tears poured from Wanda's eyes. Pain, coupled with venomous hatred for the rebels, filled her mind. She would do all she could to pay each and every rebel back for the evil they had done. Desire for revenge for the pain they had caused her and for the death of her father filled her. For her mother's suffering and all the sorrowful years they made her pass through, and now for Jason.

Just then, a loud sound caught their attention, and Wanda and her mum turned toward Petter.

He stood like a statue in the same position by the wall since Sofia had pushed the door open with a bang. He had taken a few steps backward when Sofia hugged Wanda, but Wanda hadn’t remembered he was still in the room. The thought of Jason dying had overwhelmed her.

“Petter,” Sofia said, her voice changing the moment she noticed him. She looked toward Petter's pocket where the noise emanated from. His mobile phone continued to rattle. “Are you going to answer that?”

“I am sorry, Mrs. Troms,” Petter said as he dipped his hand into his pocket. “Hello?”

Wanda looked at Petter as he answered his call, but her mind was on how to avenge her family and hurt the rebels.

“I didn't know you had Petter here,” Sofia said to her daughter. “I'll be upstairs in my room.”

“It's all right, Mum, Petter is family . . . more or less, and I'm sure he understands what we’re going through.”

“Have you looked around the house? Some of your things are in the room upstairs.”

“I haven't been upstairs, but I'll figure that out later,” Wanda replied. She couldn't care less what items were in the house for her or what the rooms upstairs looked like; she only wanted one thing, and that was for Jason to be healed.

“There must be something the hospital can do,” Wanda murmured in a low tone so as not to disturb Petter, who seemed wrapped up in his conversation. He had walked toward the front door so he could talk freely.

“There must be something, Mum,” Wanda repeated louder.

Sofia turned her face to the side.

“I mean, we can't let him die.”

“No, Jason is not going to die,” Sofia answered. Her voice was firm and strong as she faced her daughter. “The Vitrian elders have met. They decided to launch a raid on the rebels.”

Wanda could see in her mother's eyes and in the way her mother's voice broke that there was more to the news than the raid on the rebels.

“I thought they didn't know where the rebels were located?” Wanda said, trying to figure out what her mother was hiding.

“Well, I'm not sure if they do or not, but they can track them, I’ve been told.” Sofia looked toward the end of the room. Her eyes changed like she was remembering something. “It's one of the best things Alexis and I have agreed to in years.”

“So they should be able to get the Healing Méndez,” Wanda said. “They can heal Jason with it, Mum.” The excitement rose in her voice.

“Yes,” Sofia said. “They can, but I understand it will not be easy . . .”

She broke off, and Wanda picked up on her mother's disquieted reaction.

“Mum. What is it?”

“Bathe told me the rebels will need a trade-off to release the Healing Méndez. If not, there will be an intense battle, and they cannot guarantee that at the end of it, we will have the Méndez.”

“What trade-off?” Wanda asked.

“I wouldn't worry yourself about that.” Sofia turned away. “I'll be in my room; I need some rest.” She walked to the stairs.

Wanda remained silent; she focused her attention on her mother as she went up the stairs. She could sense her mother was avoiding discussing the trade-off, and she didn't want to let the discussion go.

“Are you all right?”

Wanda turned and saw Petter as stepped beside her.

“I'm sorry about Jason. The elders decided to launch an attack tomorrow.”

“Yes. Is it true the rebels will need a trade-off?”

“Where did you hear that?” Petter asked, but Wanda could see in his eyes he was hiding something.

“You are lying, Petter.”

“I haven't lied,” Petter responded, shaking his head. “I only asked a question.”

It occurred to Wanda what the trade-off might be. She had heard about her being the person the rebels wanted. The thought of why Bathe was suggesting the trade-off came to her memory, and it worried her, but she waved it off.

“So, what is the trade-off?” Wanda demanded.

“I don't think you should—” Petter started.

“I want to be there.” Wanda fixed her eyes on Petter.

“What? What are you—”

“I want to be there when the Vitrians go after the rebels,” she interjected again.

“You must be joking. You aren't even trained to fight demons.”

“I want to be there.” She raised her voice but kept it low enough for her mum not to hear.

She and Petter stared at each other for a few seconds in silence, then Wanda calmed down, controlling the tempo of her tone and speaking slowly. “I'll kill every one of them for what they’ve done. They will pay; they will pay for everything.”

“‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,’” Petter said, quoting one of the phrases he knew from the Bible.

He continued to explain the consequences of her going out there to the rebels, but his words were only babbles to Wanda's ears. She had made up her mind and was not going to carry the weight or guilt of Jason's death. She pushed past Petter and rushed to the entrance door.

He caught up with her and tugged her right arm. “Where are you going?”

“To the House!” Uncontrollable anger burned in her chest.

“I can't let you do that. Your mum, Jason—”

At the mention of her brother's name, Wanda pushed Petter off and ran toward the House. As a sprinter in school, she'd never had any problem covering short distances. She stopped when she got close to the entrance of the House.

The House was huge and positioned within a massive roundabout at the center of the fortress. The roads leading to the roundabout were controlled by traffic lights at every junction and an outlet to the four main roads leading to the House. With the roundabout mostly empty at night, Wanda hurried across to face the main entrance.

“What do you want?” one of the big guys at the gate asked.

There were two of them, one of lighter coloring and the other brown-skinned.

“To see Alexis. My name is Wanda Troms.” She raised her head as she spoke but didn't look directly at the men. She noted they were tall and big, but her mind was on getting inside to meet Alexis and the elders.

The brown-skinned man who asked the question moved aside, allowing Wanda access as if they had been told to grant it to her when she arrived.

She stepped into a massive garden. The compound was covered with properly trimmed grass, visible because of the big floodlights lighting up several sections of the compound. She walked on the interlocking stones, designed as the walkway to the House, and continued for several paces before Petter caught up with her.

“Have you thought of what to say?” Petter asked.

Wanda lifted her lips at one end in satisfaction that Petter was on her side. He had finally accepted he would not be able to stop her.

“You know me, Petter,” she answered. “Talking has never been an issue.”

When they stepped in, Wanda was immediately relieved Petter was beside her. The House had several rooms and doors, and she could not figure out where to go.

“Here, to the left,” Petter said, and then led her.

Wanda followed him, and together they went up the steps to the next floor.

Petter walked to a pair of massive doors facing the stairs they ascended from. He placed his hand on one of the door handles. The antique door was dark chocolate in color and had two huge hands designed on it.

The design showed two palms clasped together as if in prayer. The tips of the clasped fingers faced each other.

Wanda studied the doors and saw that in the center section where the two doors met was the same Greek symbol she saw everywhere at the fortress. It was a pointed object like a peg, held with the tip facing upward. It had wings at the top and two snakes wrapped around from the bottom to the top where the wings attached to the peg. The symbol was quite big; it ran from the top of the door down to the bottom, about eight feet in length.

“Think about it, Wanda,” Petter warned as he positioned one hand on one of the door handles. He turned back and looked into her eyes. “I really don't want you to do this. I was asked to bring you here—”

“Bring me?” Wanda cut him off. “Then open the door.” She stiffened her neck, not allowing Petter to dissuade her.

“This is giving yourself over to the rebels. They would—”

Wanda took a step forward, ignoring Petter's comments. She placed a hand on the handle and the other on Petter's hand and pushed the two doors open.

The doors opened into a big room designed for conferences and meetings of at least fifty participants. At the other end of the conference room and directly opposite the main door was a massive screen for teleconferencing. On the side, in front of the teleconferencing screen, sat Alexis, Bathe, and a few other people.

“Wanda!” Bathe stood up as the doors screeched open. Wanda heard the mixture of surprise and happiness in his voice.

“I want to be a part of the attack.” Wanda marched down the hallway and stopped in front of Alexis and Bathe.

“What!” Bathe looked surprised. He turned to Alexis, and they stared at each other before Bathe turned back to Wanda, who was a few steps away.

“I want to be a part of the attack on the rebels.”

“You aren't ready for such a battle,” Bathe warned.

“I'll do whatever it takes,” she said. “I have to be a part of the attack.”

She went quiet as everyone gazed at her. Her anger was boiling like a viper’s, ready to spit out the venom in her. “They have to pay for what they did to my family.”

Alexis giggled. The inappropriate sound caught everyone's attention, and they turned to look at him. Wanda could see he wasn't using the camouflage, so his scar was clearly visible, covering his expressions.

“Wow!” Alexis tried to look surprised, but everything in him showed he had been waiting to see Wanda's anger in full action. “I admire your rage. I wondered when it would burn in holy fire.”

What was he talking about? Wanda tilted her head as she pondered what Alexis meant.

Alexis adjusted his position in the chair. “You know the prophecy, foretold and forgotten for almost two centuries now. About changes and going forward as Vitrians. It says the one to change things would roar with a rage never seen before.”

With the camouflage gone, Wanda could not tell if he was mocking her, or if he truly believed she was the one to fulfill the prophecy, the prophecy she knew nothing about.

“Wanda.” Bathe stepped down from the single step that elevated the main stage of the conference hall from the rest of the room. He placed a fatherly hand on Wanda's shoulder and took a deep breath. “You don't have to. You have lost enough.”

Wanda heard the concern in Bathe's voice, and it mystified her; she had expected Bathe to throw her out there. Wanda looked into his eyes and saw his concern was genuine. But a sense of deception flashed through her mind as she studied Bathe's face.

She heard a man's voice and instantly adjusted herself to see him.

“I agree with Bathe, Alexis.” The man, the last adult among the five people in the room, had a solid, polished English accent. He was dressed in a French suit, which made Wanda wonder if he was coming from an occasion. The suit was black, smooth, and beautiful, with a red scarf folded and placed in the left-hand pocket of the jacket. His hair was black, and so were the pair of lace-up shoes he wore. Wanda could tell everything the man wore was expensive.

“Nathaniel.” Alexis called the name of the man in his deep voice. “I also agree with you and Bathe.” He turned from Nathaniel to Bathe, Wanda, and Petter. “You were here at the elders’ meeting some minutes ago when Bathe again explained the uniqueness of the demon he fought yesterday. How the demon crossed a barrier Bathe had set with the Praying Méndez. No such thing has ever occurred to anyone before. If the rebels can call on powerful creatures that haven’t been seen in centuries, the casualty rate might be more than we can bear. She is The Chosen. I doubt if any evil can befall her.”

“I am sure we have enough Vitrians,” a boy behind Nathaniel said.

He was about Petter's height with short hair, and Wanda could tell the boy was young, probably a year or two older than her. But it wasn’t the boy who caught her attention. It was the girl next to him; she stood looking perfect, with her hair and makeup properly done.

“We can deal with them easily. We need to set things right and make everyone know that the rebels cannot continue this evil. We don't have to bring Wanda in," the boy continued.

“Charles—" Alexis began.

“No,” Wanda uttered, cutting Alexis off. She turned away from Charles and back to Alexis. “How much more do I have to suffer? My father? My brother? Should it be my mum next?” The animosity in Wanda's voice was unwavering. She was ready to spend the night there if it took that long to convince them.

“I knew your father well,” Alexis said with compassion in his voice. Although Wanda could not see his expressions, she believed Alexis was juggling the option of allowing her or not. “Marcus was a hero, a man of courage. We all knew him, and we can't deny that his death caused a lot of pain. But I can't throw you into the battle. That would be sheer wickedness.”

“Yes, but you know that the rebels want me, not anyone else.” She voiced her most significant point in the argument.

“The more reason!” the girl next to Charles said with an English accent as polished as Nathaniel's. She wore a Versace pair of tight blue jeans. Her pronounced hips were well accentuated in the jeans even as she stood behind Nathaniel. It was obvious she was well-toned, with no ounce of fat on her slim waistline. Her long fingers gripped the back of Nathaniel's chair, revealing she was close to the man. Her deep black hair, which was long and styled, fell freely from her face. Her body-hugging peplum top opened at the end of the sleeves by her wrist. Like beautiful flowers, her hands protruded out of the sleeves, revealing slim and lovely fingers with vibrant red nail polish.

“Have you fought demons before? I know you can see them. I heard you started seeing them . . .” she rolled her eyes, “yesterday. And today you think they will bow to you.”

“Becky!” Alexis said.

Wanda heard the caution in Alexis’ voice as he spoke to Becky. She looked at Becky briefly and sensed jealously, perhaps because Wanda was The Chosen. She ignored Becky’s words. She was tired of being pushed around, and she was ready to go to the battlefield. She needed to fight the rebels and hurt them, send pain back to them, and nothing was going to distract her.

“You know it is me they want. First it was my father's death, and now you'll let my brother die for me. I would rather die and let him live.”

Bathe shut his eyes, and Wanda sensed from his weakened grip on her shoulder that he knew she was right; Jason would die in her place.

“I can't let that happen,” she said, raising her voice. “I can't let my brother die when it's supposed to be me.”

“And we can't take the blame for your death,” Alexis said. “The moment Bathe and I suggested you be involved in this attack, your mother objected.”

“You won't have to take the blame,” Wanda cut in quickly. “I take full responsibility for this. I won’t die. And I will bring the Healing Méndez home for Jason.”

“I admire your courage, Wanda.” Bathe shook his head as he turned to face her. “But this is not a game. This is life and death. What about your mum?”

“Don't tell her until I'm gone.”

Alexis raised his head to look at Wanda. “She doesn't know you’re here?”

“No,” Petter answered. “She's already gone to bed.”

“You have guts.” Becky smiled from behind Nathaniel. She rolled her eyes again, revealing that she had been expecting a cowardly Wanda.

“She'll be a liability,” Charles complained.

“I know,” Alexis answered in a low tone, and everyone could see he was deep in thoughts. “But this is a difficult battle. The rebels' sorcery is strong, and we can barely track them.” Charles was about to object to Alexis when Alexis continued. “We'll find them through the last locations where we know they camped.”

“She has never fought a demon,” Nathaniel whined.

“She neither has a Praying Méndez nor knows how to use one,” Becky added.

“I can use the Praying Méndez. I saw Bathe use it,” Wanda said quickly.

“The Méndez is not what you train with, my brave little girl.” Alexis was on his feet now, looking extremely tall, standing on the elevated stage of the conference hall. He stepped down from the stage. “The Praying Méndez requires a dedicated time of praying to empower it.”

“Please,” Wanda pleaded. “I will train for any number of hours you want, but I'll not forgive myself if my brother dies because of me.”

“Then you will go,” Alexis said.

“Alexis!” Nathaniel burst out. “Sending untrained people into battle is not our way. She will be taken out easily by the demons.”

“The rebels will release the Healing Méndez to her only,” Alexis replied, as if he knew for sure it would happen. “Bathe will be by your side all the time.” He looked around. “No one mention anything to Sofia. I will handle that myself.” He looked back at Wanda. “We are still expecting a few Vitrians from outside in the city. We leave tomorrow late afternoon. You and Petter will move with Bathe's team because they are the closest to you, but before then, spend the entire morning and afternoon training. Becky will oversee that; she is the best-trained young lady in the fortress.”

Becky mumbled beside Charles, but Wanda didn't mind, as she'd achieved her goal.

“Tomorrow might be tough and rough. Let us get some rest and get ready for demon extermination,” Alexis finished. His voice revealed battling demons was something he derived pleasure from.

Wanda looked at Alexis, and their eyes met. They gazed at each other for a few seconds, but she wasn't sure if he was happy or sad. She had a feeling deep in her heart that he wore a big smile, unnoticeable behind the scar disfiguring his face.

“Thank you,” she said, letting out a deep breath and knowing she might be giving herself up for dead, but she didn't mind. She wanted Jason saved, and she was ready to sacrifice whatever it took, even if it meant trading herself to the rebels.

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 10

 

Chapter 10

 

The night seemed too short for Wanda. She had thought falling asleep would be a problem, but it happened swiftly, taking her away like she was in fairytale land.

Unfortunately, her sleep was cut short because of her decision to go after the insurgents. Also, the training she was to undergo was on her mind. She repeatedly dreamed about Eric and the incident at school, waking up and calling out his name. It happened several times, and her bed was wet with sweat every time she woke from these dreams.

Sometimes the dream changed, and she found herself in the position of being pinned down by the talons of the demon sent to fetch her. But most times, it was about Eric and the guilt of leaving him for dead.

Wanda was up and out early. She stood by a set of steps leading to the entrance of the Praying Hall, waiting for her trainer. While she waited, she wondered why she had dreamed again and again about Eric. The only person she had dreamed about like that was her dad, and now he was dead. She was beginning to accept her fears that Eric had not made it, but she hoped that wasn't the case. She hated thinking people were dying because of her.

People came into the hall early. She hid her face, not wanting any unusual stares. They were mostly young adults, teenagers, and people in their early twenties, with a few older adults. She wasn't surprised. Petter had told her the night before that the fortress got packed in the summer when all the Vitrian children were on break, and those that didn’t live in the fortress returned to spend their summer holiday training and spending time with other Vitrians.

Wanda watched them walk in one after the other, dressed in black, fitted clothing that reminded her of the spandex people wore when jogging around the city. The material used for making the clothes was thicker and stronger than regular exercise clothes; the Greek symbol was designed on the clothes and used to create patterns over the fabric. As she stood, Wanda saw another group of people, both adults and young adults, jogging past the Praying Hall.

The entrance to the Praying Hall had the same design as the Medical Hall; it was identical from the outside. The only difference was the writing above the big door, which was in a language Wanda couldn’t read but guessed was Greek. Next to the written words was a large sign of the Vitrian symbol. Wanda had noticed the symbol at the Medical Hall the day before.

“I see you're trying to make a good impression,” Becky said, breaking Wanda's concentration as she studied the symbol. Her disdainful look was still visible on her face. “Becky thought Becky would have to wake you up.” She looked away like she was referring to a totally different person. “You know that symbol means everything to the Vitrians; it brings healing to Vitrians but is deadly to demons.”

Seeing Becky made Wanda's stomach churn like she'd caught a stomach bug while waiting in the early morning. Becky brought the memories of Wanda's last two traumatic days flashing back in her mind.

“Well, thanks to Petter,” Wanda stared at Becky irritably, “I learned Vitrians are supposed to rise early. And I'm not going to let you have fun while you ruin the day for me.”

“Oh, but I am! Watch me. I am going to have all the fun and laughter today, not you. You already ruined the day for everyone.” Becky turned to her, and again they gazed in annoyance at each other. Becky blew her chewing gum into a big bubble and burst it.

Wanda couldn’t believe Becky could be so uncouth as well as sassy when her own family was in distress.

“By the way, Petter told me . . .” Becky broke off, waiting until she had Wanda's attention. “He told me he mentioned to you that you should get here early. And I made sure you waited a good thirty minutes before I arrived. Petter and I are very close.” Becky raised her eyebrows as animosity boiled within Wanda. “If you know what I mean.” She rubbed her lips together tightly.

“So you made me wait thirty minutes in the early morning?” But it wasn't the waiting that got to her; it was the way Becky had said she and Petter were close. “I've been here since half past six.”

“Oh, sorry!” Becky placed her right fingers on her mouth and patted her lips gently, signaling Wanda was boring.

The red color of her nail polish matched her lipstick, and her long black hair was properly rolled up and tucked in behind her head, accentuating her facial features, but Wanda believed behind all the makeup was an unattractive person. She hoped she was right. Up close now, Wanda could see they were probably the same age. Becky just wore a lot of makeup, so she looked a few years older.

“Petter told me you were all over him yesterday,” Becky said. “Follow me.” Becky made sure Wanda had no time to object. She walked toward the door of the hall.

A bitter taste welled up in Wanda's mouth as she followed. She couldn't imagine being used and played like a piece on a board game. She disliked Becky as jealousy erupted furiously in her. She had made a mistake telling Becky she was not going to allow Becky to have fun while ruining Wanda’s day.

She recalled her brief cozy moment the day before with Petter, how she had wanted him to touch her, or hold her, but she didn't really have any deep emotions toward him. And now knowing that he could be close to Becky made her—resentful.

Wanda took a step back in surprise the moment she entered the massive hall. It was like an open warehouse, with a proper structural roof and wooden walls. The walls of the hospital and other houses in the fortress were designed with wood and transparent glass, making it possible for people to see outside in sections.

“Why is this called the Praying Hall?” Wanda asked without looking at Becky.

Becky smiled. “You were expecting to see people kneeling or folding their legs together and sitting like monks, weren't you?”

“Well, not really, but at least something of that nature, I would have thought.”

“When you pray in your house, prayers are done discretely.” Becky chewed hard on her gum. “Here, we train for battle. Everyone should have spent adequate time praying on their own, in their rooms and homes.”

“So, it's a training hall.”

“Yes, more or less,” Becky answered. “But again, it’s also a chatting-and-getting-together hall, as I term it to be.”

Wanda didn't have to ask what that meant; she could see people chatting in groups of three or more. The groups were in different sections throughout the hall. Wanda counted at least twelve sections very quickly. The people were in their exercise outfits doing different forms of exercise. Some were stretching their backs or feet. Some were working on gymnastics bars, lifting weights, or practicing how to jump. But what caught Wanda's attention the most were those training with objects, throwing them at target points a distance in front of them.

The objects were like the ones she had seen in her father's box and with Eric.

The thought of Eric saddened her. She could picture him here at the training hall throwing objects and practicing, but Bathe had said he could not remember any such person among the Vitrians. She wanted to ask Becky. She watched Becky strut in front of her, her hips and backside swaying from side to side. Wanda knew that asking about Eric was throwing her goods out to someone who cared less, even if she dropped dead during training this morning.

As soon as they got to a group of Becky's friends, Becky made sure everyone knew she was the tutor and not the tutee. This gave Wanda the understanding that, usually, the young ones were trained by adults.

“This is Wanda,” Becky said. “I’m training her today.” She spent her time chatting with one of the girls in the group, making Wanda wait while people stared at her.

Wanda could hear the murmurings, people talking about The Chosen, and passing comments as they stole glimpses at her.

The moment Becky finished chatting, Wanda stepped up to her.

“I know you don't like me,” she said. “But can we get to the point of my training now? You can chat later.”

“I'm not going to let you have fun while you ruin the day for me.” Becky echoed Wanda’s words back at her.

Wanda said nothing. She had goofed, thinking she could challenge Becky on her own turf.

Becky chewed her gum and shrugged.

“What?” she said when she caught Wanda staring at her.

“Please, can we get started with the training?” Wanda said meekly. “People are staring and whispering.”

“Let them! Assert your position and who you are.” Becky shook her head. “C'mon, let's go.”

They walked another fifteen steps into the hall, and then Becky pointed. “We're training up there. It's a special place for the elders to train, and Alexis wants you there.”

“Okay,” Wanda said, not knowing what to think about the elders having a special place to train. She followed Becky toward a metallic staircase with black steps. The beautiful light brown wood railings had been well-polished. Between the polished wood and the black metallic steps on each side of the staircase were four inches of glass. They covered the space and prevented anyone on the steps from falling.

“Now, let's change your clothes to training clothing so you can enjoy your silly training before demons tear you apart later today,” Becky said as she walked into a room filled with lockers. She paused and looked around. “Here are the spare lockers. This one is for you. Use the clothes in there to change and then meet me on the other side.”

A moment later Wanda was dressed in the same training clothes everyone wore with her hair packed behind in a ponytail.

“So what do you know about the Vitrian weapons?” Becky asked, waving her hands over sets of different weapons in the training areas.

“I know those pegs can be—”

“First things first. Stop calling them pegs.” Becky pointed to the silver object Wanda had seen before with Eric. “They are called Necatus. They are meant to kill demons. They can kill small and weak demons easily.”

Though irritated, Wanda stared at Becky and said nothing, knowing whatever she said would be used against her. She was in Becky's world, and she had to play by her rules and how Becky wanted.

∞∞∞

Petter stood in front of the House first thing in the morning the next day. His fingers were twitching, which signified how edgy he was as he proceeded to walk through the main entrance. He turned to the staircase and went up to the penthouse while his heart palpitated rapidly, pondering why Alexis had summoned him.

Petter got to the door and said to the man in front of the penthouse, “Alexis summoned me.”

With a smirk that made Petter feel like he was in trouble, the man stepped away and let him in.

“I’m surprised you got Wanda to come over to the House yesterday,” Alexis said the moment Petter stepped into his office in the House.

“I didn't have to do much. She was bent on coming herself.”

“You did well staying with her; you're the only friend she has around here, you know.”

His words did not put Petter at ease. He knew there was a reason why Alexis called for him, and a wrong answer would not be good for him.

“I know.” Petter's response was cool and cautious.

“And we need to take care of her and protect her. She is The Chosen, after all,” Alexis said, but Petter kept quiet. “Did she tell you anything about another Vitrian she met at your school?”

“Vitrian?” Petter raised his head and looked at Alexis. “No,” he said, hoping it was the right answer.

“Are you sure there's no one in the school sent by the rebels?” Alexis asked.

“Yes, I’m sure. I checked everyone in the class and in the school. I am the only Vitrian there.”

“You've failed at your task.” Alexis adjusted his body and sat up straight.

The words sank deep into Petter's soul, and his heart flickered in desperation. He had been an orphan since he was two. Children like him were pushed around in the fortress and used for unscrupulous jobs.

“There is definitely one other Vitrian at the school,” Alexis said. “I haven't been able to figure out who the person is. I will investigate further.”

“If I've failed, I'll make up for it,” Petter said, his hands shaking slightly. “I can still get you the information you need from the school. I know a lot of people and have their data.”

“No!” Alexis stared down at Petter. “The rebels are trying to play us, and we need to be careful here . . . even Bathe is unaware of who the person could be. I'll give you another chance.” Alexis' voice sounded pained. “You have to protect Wanda, make sure she gets the Healing Méndez and comes home safely with it.”

“I will, sir,” Petter said earnestly.

He was about to step out when Alexis called his name.

“Petter—so many lives and families depend on that Healing Méndez.”

“I know,” Petter answered.

“Including yours.” Alexis stressed the word to drive the point home further.

Petter nodded as he stepped out. He took a deep breath as soon as he got out of Alexis’ office. He knew he needed to prove himself because he was an orphan. Though he had no family that needed the Healing Méndez, life would be tough for him if Alexis cut him off. He had no parent or family to depend on.

∞∞∞

The elders' training area was a sealed, elevated section at one of the corners of the massive training hall. It was surrounded by thick glass so Wanda could see people down in the training hall.

Wanda wore the training outfit she had found in one of the closets. Becky took her through the weapons: arrows and bows, large knives, machetes, the Necatus, and the Praying Méndez.

They had spent the entire morning going through the weapons. Wanda tried the arrows, but she could hardly get a hold of them. The knives and machetes were too big. She worked on them for about two hours but could not handle them properly or swing hard enough because her heart was heavy, and she was disturbed. Becky thought the knives and machetes were also too dangerous, so after their short lunch break, they settled on training with only the Necatus.

Becky laughed at Wanda after several failed attempts to throw a Necatus straight and with precision. The laughter did nothing but invigorate Wanda.

Becky walked up to Wanda and adjusted her arms and elbow.

“You need to hold tight.” She squeezed Wanda's hand, tightening it and wrapping it around the Necatus.

Becky was about two inches taller than Wanda. Wanda kept quiet, though anger welled up in her. The more Wanda failed to throw straight, the more Becky laughed, and the more she hated the rebels. More and more, she wished for revenge, just to inflict on them a tiny fraction of the pain they had caused her.

“You adjust your elbow.” Becky repositioned Wanda's hand. “Then you take a brazing position—never attack a demon in a rush—and then you throw.”

With Becky holding on, Wanda tried what she said. The Necatus left her hand and buried itself into the target, though it missed the actual marked point.

“Well, you are getting there.” Becky nodded in approval. “Keep trying.” She let go of Wanda's hand. “I still think the demons will make a good meal of you today.”

“How do I shrink this and make it expand once I throw it?” Wanda asked, ignoring Becky's remark. She remembered what Eric had done at school. She picked another Necatus and studied the marks on the silver item. They were all the same, showing the Greek symbol with two snakes. She turned to ask about the mark when she realized Becky was staring at her.

“What?” Wanda asked.

“For starters, I hate it when my comments are ignored.”

Wanda was about to respond when Becky continued, shaking her head and waving her finger.

“Anyway. Anyway! I thought you didn’t have any training.”

“Yeah.” Wanda wondered why Becky had such a piercing look on her face.

“How did you know the Vitrian weapons can shrink and extend?”

Wanda forced a smile. She didn't want to create a discussion about Eric and how she had seen him use it. “I've heard people say a lot of things in the last two days.”

Becky continued to stare for a moment, then looked down at a Necatus strapped on her waist. She pulled it off the strap and showed it to Wanda. She focused on the object, and suddenly the piece, smaller than her palm, became long. As it extended, Becky threw it toward the target.

“To shrink a weapon or your Méndez, you only need to concentrate and focus on it.” She paused.

“What about the glowing?”

“The Praying Méndez will glow when you have spent adequate time praying. How much you pray is what charges it, and when you face demons, it will glow based on whether or not your time in prayer was adequate.”

Wanda blinked in confusion. “Who accepts or determines whether the prayers are good or sufficient?”

“Really?” Becky looked at Wanda strangely. “Do I look like God to you? All I know is that as a Vitrian, you have to pray constantly, not that we all do. I know some don't pray for weeks, but when you pray, your Méndez is charged, and no demon can come near you. But some Vitrians are so lazy they look for other means to strengthen themselves.”

“Other means?”

“Yes. Sorcery, of course,” Becky said, looking at her like she must be the greatest fool on earth to be so naive about everything. “Well, without power in the Praying Méndez, you’re dead meat if you meet a demon out there.”

Wanda's eyes narrowed, though she knew Becky was just sarcastic.

“I'm not trying to scare you. I can be blunt; I know people say that,” Becky said. “But I still believe you're dead meat going out there with us, no matter what anyone says. Alexis knows that, and I can't understand why he wants you to get yourself killed.”

“Why are you so. . . ?” Wanda turned her head in frustration.

“What?” Becky smiled. “Look at the Necatus you are holding.”

Wanda looked down at the silver peg in her hand. She knew Becky was right, but her attitude enraged Wanda.

“You can barely throw it straight at a target. You'll be lucky if we meet weak demons who die just by you stabbing them with the Necatus. If we meet the other kind . . .” Becky paused and then spoke her next words slowly, much to Wanda’s annoyance. “You’ll—make—for—good—meat.”

“Enough of your rudeness!” Wanda threw the Necatus down. The shiny object clanged on the floor and bounced several times before it came to a halt a few feet away.

“Oh, you think it's going to be like going to a school party or chatting with lover boy Petter.” Becky spoke in a thin, mocking voice, annoying Wanda even further.

“Petter is not my lover!”

“Yeah, right.” Becky blinked several times. “A lot of people are going to get injured today; we’ll be lucky if no one dies.”

Wanda huffed, but Becky’s words sank in. Becky was right. Perhaps all those people at the Medical Hall were suffering because of her.

“But it isn't my fault,” Wanda said, disassociating herself from the attack. “The Vitrians would have left to find the rebels with or without me.”

“No. If you hadn't shown up here, we would have continued to live happily and peacefully with the rebels in possession of the Healing Méndez.” Becky tilted her head to the side. She placed her hands on her waist, a furious look on her face. “Do you know what really happened to your dad?”

“Don't go there.” Wanda's response was curt, with a venomous undertone.

“I guess the rumor is true, then . . . your mum never told you. She hid you away after your dad died nine years ago.”

“Stop!” Wanda warned, making her voice louder and stronger than before.

“He was torn apart by a demon. It was so bad that an open casket could not be done for him, as much as he was loved around here. Vitrian’s never miss an open casket. It is an honor to view great people before they are finally buried, but your father did not have one.”

“Stop it!” Wanda pushed Becky hard enough to make her stagger backward. “How can you be so bitter? How can you be so insensitive? Do you know how painful it is, hearing all of this?” Wanda’s eyes burned, but she was determined not to give Becky the satisfaction of seeing her break down in tears.

Becky caught herself and kept from falling. “I think you should know and think about the number of parents and children that might die today.” She walked toward the dressing room.

“I hate you!” Wanda yelled. She picked up a Necatus and threw it with intense anger and force at a target. Her eye burned with rage. To her surprise, like a scene captured in slow motion, she watched the Necatus turn into a burning metal as it rotated in midair.

It stuck straight within the circle and set the entire target on fire. Wanda looked at her hands. They vibrated vigorously and were extremely hot, but she didn't understand where the fire came from.

She stood there for a few minutes and watched in shock as the fire engulfed the target. She stared at her hand and the fire until she heard Bathe.

“Holy fire!” Bathe exclaimed as he rushed in from the entrance of the elders' training area.

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 11

 

Chapter 11

 

“Wow!” Bathe grabbed a fire extinguisher, hurried to the burning target, and released the foam onto the fire. He put the extinguisher down and looked up; Wanda followed his gaze to see Alexis walking out from behind the glass separating him from the elders' training area.

Bathe walked up to Wanda. “It seems to be true that your chosen power works with rage.”

“The prophecy,” Wanda muttered, remembering what Alexis had said the day before.

“‘Rage that shall burn with holy fire,’” Bathe said, and Wanda looked up to see a smile of satisfaction on his face.

“Did I just do that?” Wanda was distraught.

“I'll remember to be careful and keep away from you when you’re annoyed,” Bathe said jokingly.

“I'm not in the mood right now, Bathe.” Wanda looked firmly into his eyes, searching for answers. “Did I do that?”

“It was a compliment, not a complaint.” Bathe paused for a moment, and then answered with his lips quirking upward at the edges. “What do you think? Metals don't suddenly turn into fire.”

Wanda’s heart sank. “I didn't mean to do anything wrong.”

“Becky told me she said something about your dad.” He waited, but Wanda looked away in vexation. “She's with Alexis now. On the other side.” He pointed. “I saw the fire and came running.”

“I don't care if she's reporting on herself. She hurt my feelings deeply.”

“You know a lot of people here are looking forward to what will come out of you in the end. Some people are scared, and some are worried. Some feel good, and some don't even know what to expect from you.”

“What happened to my dad?” Wanda asked, not listening to Bathe. She knew asking her mum would be better, but she couldn't let her mum know what she had planned. She had left a note for her mum saying she would be spending the day with Petter to get to know the fortress better and meet people. “How did he die?”

“I saw Sofia before coming here. I told her you're doing well with the other children.”

“You can just tell me you don't want to answer,” Wanda said, annoyed at how he avoided the question. She walked toward the entrance.

“He was killed by a demon,” Bathe said, and Wanda stopped in her tracks. She didn't turn back to look at him but waited for him to continue.

“Don't blame your mum. She didn’t want you to feel the pain you’re feeling now when Marcus died. You were only seven, or was it eight? She told you it was a car accident and asked me and everyone else to say the same.”

“The demon . . . did it rip him to pieces?” She still did not turn back to look at Bathe. Her rage grew, raising the temperature of the enclosed room.

“That does not matter, Wanda. What you need to know is that he was a great man to everyone who knew him.”

“Then we should get going very soon. The rebels will pay,” Wanda said. “Whatever it takes, I'll make sure they pay. I'll kill them one after the other.” She walked away, briskly.

Wanda got into the dressing area and studied it once more. It was like a dressing room for a team of sportsmen and women. It contained rows of lockers. She walked to the locker allocated to her and sat in front of it. She thought about her father, about his brutal death, and pained tears trickled down her cheeks. She stood up and opened her locker. The anger grew, and she slammed the door and wept some more.

The loud noise of the metal door slamming shut resonated in the dressing room. She stepped into a corner, weeping quietly so no one would hear her.

Suddenly she froze where she squatted and wept. She could hear Bathe and Alexis talking about her outside the dressing room.

Bathe sighed deeply. “I really wish Wanda would understand that anger could destroy everything she loves. I wish she had inherited the gift of a more peaceful approach, like Marcus.”

“Are you sure she's okay? Do you need me to talk to her?” Alexis asked.

“She'll be all right. Wanda is strong, though Becky should not have mentioned anything about Marcus.”

“Well, you know Becky can be stubborn.”

“Ah!” Bathe moaned. “I wish she wasn’t. Wanda is a good girl.”

Bathe’s support surprised her. Wanda had expected Bathe to push her under the bus at every opportunity. Hearing him support her in a discussion with Alexis gave her more confidence in Bathe.

“Everyone believes she's The Chosen, and there’s no reason for Becky to test her rage.”

“I know, but as much as I've cautioned Becky, you agree we have to let Wanda know the power that resides in her.”

“Yes,” Bathe replied, his voice unhappy. “But Becky shouldn't have dropped the news on her like that. Telling her Marcus was torn to pieces by a demon is not right.”

“If the old and dead prophecy is right, we need to let Wanda vent her anger,” Alexis said. “We will only know what she can do when she is annoyed.”

“Yes, but not by us feeding that anger,” Bathe said. “It has to come naturally.”

“Becky didn't feed it,” Alexis said.

“It sounds like she did to me. She knows better. We don't provoke or tease the Vitrians who have lost loved ones. It’s against the law.”

“Well, I am head of the council,” Alexis said. “Do you want to file a complaint against Becky? She's just a child too.”

Bathe took a deep breath before continuing. “Leave it. I’m sure Becky was just under pressure too.”

“I agree with you, my friend.” Alexis' voice sounded cunning. “Tell me again about this demon you fought before getting here.”

“What about it?” Bathe sounded surprised that Alexis wanted to know more about the grayish-white creature.

“You said it held onto your Praying Méndez briefly,” Alexis said.

“No, not briefly,” Bathe said, confusion evident in his voice. “It stepped beyond the barrier I created. It was like I could not bind it. It held on tight to my Méndez, draining the power out of it, and by the time its hands were off, my Méndez was out of juice.”

“Hmm!” Alexis sighed. “That's disturbing. You are one of the men with the strongest Praying Méndez around here.”

“Yes, it's a concern for me too,” Bathe said. “Do you know what shocked me the most when I challenged it?”

“What?”

“It spoke . . . it spoke very audibly when it clubbed its hand around my Méndez.”

“What, you mean like the babbling of words demons do in their ancient language?”

“No, Alexis,” Bathe said. “I know better than that. These were audible words, like you and I are expressing right now.”

“Not possible! What did it say?”

“That my prayers were not strong enough, that they were weak. ‘Your praying is weak; you should do better.’ Those were the exact words it said.”

“Why didn't you mention this when the elders met yesterday?”

“Alexis . . . it would be scary for many people. I made sure my Praying Méndez is ready; should we meet the demon again, it shall not survive.”

“And when you went back to get Sofia’s and Wanda's clothes from their house, did you see it?”

“No, the demon was gone. The sensors didn’t pick up any information about it. It was like the sensors couldn't even trace it, like it left no scent—no wild foul odor like we usually perceive when a beast has been in a place. There was also no odor when I was in front of it with my Méndez. I checked the archives at the Vitrian hall, and there is nothing on any demon with such a description.”

“I need to go and see Ventress.”

“Okay,” Bathe said. “Do you want me to give this to Wanda?”

Wanda pressed her ear to the wall as if that would allow her to see what he had for her. She wondered why Alexis suddenly wanted to see Ventress.

“Yes. Tell her I'll see her before we embark on the journey.”

Footsteps marched away, and Bathe sighed.

∞∞∞

Half an hour later, Wanda was back in her clothes. Blue jeans and a long-sleeved silk top with a pair of sneakers. Her hair was still back in the ponytail Becky had put it in before the training commenced, and she thought it best to leave it like that for their outing.

She suddenly noticed someone by the entrance to the dressing room. She turned to see Bathe by the door.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” She stood up and ran her hands over her thighs, smoothing her pair of jeans. “I don't feel like going home . . .” she broke off, looked away, and then corrected. “More like—I don't want to start a discussion with my mum about my dad.”

“I understand.” Bathe walked toward her. “You can wait here in the Praying Hall. We will be off very soon.”

“I heard you talking to Alexis a few minutes ago.”

“You did?” Bathe looked surprised.

“I didn't mean to listen in,” she said quickly. “I was only walking around in the corner of the room when I heard you.”

“It's okay. Let's walk to the entrance; we can chat while we wait for others. Vitrians are usually time-conscious.” They commenced walking. “And I don't blame you for listening when people are talking about you or when the situation is so crucial.”

Wanda turned to see the serious expression on Bathe's face. A passing thought flew through her mind that Bathe was only pretending. She felt he was only interested in getting her out to the rebels and the demons.

“Why?”

“There's a lot going on,” Bathe replied. “And I'm sure your mind must be twirling up and down, looking for every answer you can possibly get.”

“Yes, you are right about that.” Wanda put her hands in her pocket. “Why do people stare at me and think I am this so-called chosen person?” Bathe smiled and looked ahead as they left the elders' training area. “There was a prophecy centuries ago. Alexis quoted part of it yesterday.”

“What was it . . . I mean, this prophecy?”

“That a child would be born to set things right among the Vitrians. And the word out there is that you are the one.”

“I guess they hate me, then.” Wanda felt like crawling into a shell.

“Nooooo.” Bathe laughed. “I think it's more curiosity than hatred.”

“You sound like you don't think I am the one.”

Bathe took in a deep breath. “You are a good girl, Wanda. But no, I don't think you are, though the whole fortress believed Alexis when he said you are The Chosen.”

“Why don't you?”

“I believe the person will come from a full-blooded Vitrian; someone born to a family where both parents are Vitrians.”

“Is that what the prophecy says?”

“No. But from what we know of Vitrian history, the full-blooded Vitrians are more gifted than half-blooded Vitrians. That's why your dad was able to convince your mum not to worry about you or Jason having any traits of The Chosen.”

“Why was my mum worried, then?” Wanda was surprised at the sudden introduction of her dad into the discussion.

“There were rumors of Vitrian children with traits of The Chosen disappearing or suddenly dying. It started about sixteen years ago. Not being a full Vitrian, your mother was extremely disturbed by what might happen to you and Jason.”

“What happened to the children?” Wanda asked. Before Bathe could answer, she added, “And the rumors?”

“The rumors faded away. Most of the parents whose children died left the Vitrians and never came back. One by one, they were attacked by demons and killed.” He took in a breath.

“So, they weren’t rumors.” Wanda studied the man. “You think someone planned it all,” she said, reading his expression.

“Yes, I believe someone sent the demons to them. I don't think it was a coincidence that they got attacked. Many Vitrians lived in the city, but we were the only ones attacked. The fortress has existed in peace since then, believing the prophecy given was for a different fortress, not this one. However, a lot of the adults here carry pain from the past.”

He went silent, and Wanda sensed there was something on his mind he wanted to share, something that caused him pain from the past too. He stopped and turned to her just as they got to the edge of the stairs.

“Your father died while trying to save one of the children. Demons attacked them.”

Bathe's face turned gloomy. She had never known him to be like that. She never knew he had such deep feelings for her dad. She felt stupid for hating him in the past when he showed up at their house. She had thought he only came because of her mum.

“And, I am sorry about his loss.” Bathe looked extremely sad.

“It's okay.” Wanda waved it off.

“You don't know, do you?” Bathe asked, and Wanda looked up to see the seriousness in his eyes.

She suddenly began to like the way he defended her when he spoke to Alexis. She prayed as she stared, hoping he wasn't about to say something that would make her hate him for life. Or make her thoughts about him being the bad guy come back and haunt her.

“I was supposed to be there to prevent it.” Bathe looked down.

For the first time since Wanda had known him, he was bearing his emotions. But hearing that Bathe could have helped her father or prevented his death was more painful than everything else she had been feeling.

“Marcus wasn't supposed to go alone the night he died. He asked Xavier and me to go along with him, but we turned him down.”

“You what?” Wanda’s voice rose. She rushed down the staircase to the common area of the Praying Hall.

Bathe caught up with her quickly. He held her back, and Wanda let her anger loose in the empty hall.

"You should have been there. Why have you been coming over to our house? Does my mum know? Why . . . why are you telling me now?" Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

Bathe allowed her to rant for a minute. “Your mum doesn't know. If I tell Sofia, I will break her heart further. I swore to protect you, Jason, and your mother. When Xavier called me to tell me about your dad's death, he made me swear it. He told me it was the last thing Marcus wanted from me.”

“That's why you've always been around,” Wanda muttered in a low tone. The name Xavier continued to resonate in her head. “What about Xavier? I heard Alexis say yesterday that he is dead.”

“Yes, he's dead,” Bathe replied, and again Wanda saw his expressions change like he didn't want to say more. “Xavier called me just before he died.” Bathe’s tone was thick with melancholy, but his face carried no emotion. “We were good friends; your dad, Xavier, and me. We dedicated time to praying and following the laws of the Vitrians. I want you to know that regardless of what you overheard, no demon is getting anywhere near you. I will protect you.” He paused, looked around to make sure they were alone, and then spoke quietly. “I need to get you to a safe place.”

His words surprised her. He made it sound like the fortress was not safe. She stared at him, the words also bringing to mind the idea that Bathe knew more about the demons after her and Jason than he’d let on. She felt a twinge of worry, but then she thought, How could he have faced the grayish-white demon if he had sent it or known about it?

She took a deep breath. Everything seemed muddled, and she still had the impression that Bathe wanted her out there. A part of her wished she could object to going out to battle the rebels and the demons, but she decided not to; this was what she wanted. She wasn't doing it because of anyone else; she was doing it for her brother and her mum. Jason needed healing, and the rebels would listen to her because they wanted her.

“Okay,” she said, trying to make up her mind. “How do you plan to handle the demon, the one that attacked us two days ago, if we happen to meet it again?” She watched Bathe look toward the entrance hall as cars honked. “I heard you explaining that its strength was unusual.”

“I'll take care of it.” Bathe's voice was full of confidence. “Remember I had no fighting weapons, only my Praying Méndez last time. If we do meet it again, I would like to see how it survives the Necatus, knives, and arrows that we will unleash upon it.”

Wanda heard more noise from outside, and they both looked toward the door.

“I think the others are here,” Bathe said. “We should get going.”

She looked at him. “Was I stupid to force my way into this?” She began to have cold feet.

“No.” Bathe touched her on the shoulder. “I would have done the same.” He gave an encouraging smile. “And remember, stay with me and you’ll be safe.”

They stepped outside, and Wanda saw the line of jeeps. Ten of them, all jet black in color, which shone so bright, she knew the paint was not ordinary; something about the paint looked like it had silver in it.

Some of the people going on the journey were hanging around the jeeps, chatting, and waiting for the others. Most of them were adults Wanda hadn't seen before.

“Wait here,” Bathe said. He walked toward one of the jeeps where Alexis, Nathaniel, and six other adults stood; three of them women and two men. The last person wore a red robe with a hood that covered the person's head. Wanda wondered why anyone would wear a robe in the summer's heat.

The group had spread a big map on the hood of the jeep, and they planned the trips as they studied it.

“Are you nervous?” Petter suddenly appeared behind Wanda.

“No.” She put her hands in her pocket like she was cold from the weather. “I'm just uncomfortable with everyone gazing at me.”

Petter smiled. “Well. You're The Chosen. What do you expect?”

“That's what I hear. It doesn't make me comfortable with several sets of eyes on me like I'm an alien to peruse.”

“C'mon, Wanda. Have some courage.”

“Where're all the teenagers? I saw them in the Praying Hall this morning.”

“Oh, most of the adults are well-trained. The Praying Hall is where the young ones meet up.”

“But why aren't they going with us?”

“No parent would sit down while their children went out to battle and risked their lives.” Petter’s face flushed. “Sorry, I didn't mean—”

“No, it's okay,” Wanda said. “Who's that guy flicking a penknife in his hand and looking straight at me?”

“That's Erastus, Becky's older brother. He just arrived. Their dad asked him to come,” Petter said. “I hear he is a killing machine, and he's only twenty-one, I think. He's the youngest adult here.”

“Who's their dad?” Wanda observed Petter before turning back to Erastus, who kept staring at her with disdain. She wondered if he thought the look made him feel cool.

“Nathaniel. He was sitting in front of Becky yesterday.”

“I could have guessed. Becky and Erastus kind of follow his expensive and wealthy way of dressing.”

“Oh, they are one of the wealthiest Vitrian families. You, Becky, Charles, and I are the only underaged people here,” Petter said.

“Just the four of us?”

“Yes.” Petter looked toward Bathe, Alexis, and the other elders who had started dispersing from their brief meeting. “It’s a Vitrian thing. The elders place their children in proper positions. Nathaniel called Erastus home from school in England to be part of this historic 'field trip,' as they call it. Becky received the instruction to train you, 'The Chosen.' Charles is allowed to join the journey even though he's not an adult, and I can guess they will ride with their fathers for protection. They won’t be riding with you.”

Wanda could hear the tone of displeasure and possibly enmity in Petter's voice. She knew he was an orphan, and she could see on his face that he wasn't comfortable with the advantage his mates had over him because his parents were no longer around.

“You don't have to worry about that, Petter,” Wanda said. “You are more brilliant than all of them. You were the best student in class for consecutive years running.” And then she remembered their cozy incident yesterday, which Becky had mentioned.

“It doesn't work like that here at the fortress. Inequality is highly encouraged,” Petter grumbled. “Who likes you and what positions or places you were sent to when you were young defines if your future is bright or not.” He looked away into oblivion. “Whatever we’re offered, children like me have to obey; otherwise, life will be tough for us.”

“Wanda,” Bathe called, breaking off Wanda’s thoughts and her desire to discuss what Becky had said.

She turned to see him and Alexis a few feet away from her. She walked toward them while Petter followed closely. When they got to Bathe, Wanda looked up at Alexis and saw he was staring at Petter.

“Excuse us,” Alexis said to Petter, and before Wanda could object, Petter vanished expeditiously.

She wondered why Petter quivered in front of Alexis. She recalled their meeting at the House, when Petter barely spoke throughout their discussion in the conference room.

“Here, I forgot to give you this.” Bathe brought out a shrunken Praying Méndez from the denim jacket he wore over his black shirt.

Wanda stared at the shirt and noticed it had thin stripes of shimmering lines running parallel from top to bottom. How overwhelmed she must have been inside the training hall not to notice the silver on the shirt.

“This Praying Méndez has a powerful tracking device embedded in it,” Bathe said, holding onto it. “Should we be separated, we can find you anywhere as long as this is with you.”

“Becky has decided to ride with you,” Alexis added, smiling. “She's sorry she said anything about your dad and would like to make up it. Though her father doesn’t like her coming with you instead of him.”

“Becky?” Wanda was shocked, knowing how badly their training session had gone. Bathe mumbled some words to show his disapproval that Becky would be riding with them.

“Okay.” Wanda took the Méndez from Bathe. “I guess we’re leaving now.”

“Yes,” Alexis answered. “Bathe, please get everyone ready in their different cars.

Bathe walked away, and suddenly Wanda realized the hooded person stood beside her. A cold chill went down her spine at the unanticipated appearance.

“Definitely a strong and unique presence of The Chosen,” a woman’s voice said behind the hood.

The woman slid the hood back. Her eyes were gray, her facial skin as flawless as one could imagine—no single spot or blemish. Her hair was long and gray, but the blond in it was still visible. She spoke with a slight Eastern European accent that made Wanda wonder where she grew up.

“Are you sure, Ventress?” Alexis asked. His eyes carried intense excitement and disturbance at the same time.

“Ventress.” Wanda spoke without meaning to. The name struck a bell.

“Yes,” the lady replied, looking at Wanda.

“You're the head of the Medical Hall.”

“Yes, my girl.” Ventress smiled at Wanda. “I've been swamped trying to resuscitate your brother.” Her eyes showed no sincerity in what she said. She was straight and cold, looking void of emotion.

“Thanks.” Wanda felt awkward as she observed the eldritch woman. Everything about her looked too perfect, and it gave Wanda an uncomfortable feeling.

Ventress touched Wanda's arm, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. Something unexplainable passed from Ventress' body into hers.

“I will destroy the rebels.” Wanda found herself repeating what she received from Ventress' mind. “I vow to burn their demons, to burn that which killed my father, with fire never seen before. This is my oath—I swear it.”

Ventress let go, and Wanda took a deep breath.

“Yes, I'm sure, Alexis,” Ventress said. “More rage than I have felt in any other child in fifteen years.”

“What just happened?” Wanda asked.

“You swore a blood oath to destroy the rebels and their demons.” Ventress smiled, a smile so cold it warned Wanda that there was something she should dislike about Ventress.

“Blood oath?” Wanda echoed and looked at her arm where Ventress had held onto her. There was a tiny dot of blood on her arm. Ventress must have had a pin-like object somewhere in her hand when she touched her. “I don't even know how to fight. How am I going to destroy demons?”

“Oh, you know how to fight, my girl,” Ventress said. “It is in your blood. When the time comes, your 'Chosen Experience' will come, and your powers will manifest. You can avenge your father’s death on the rebels and the demon that took his life.”

Wanda stared at Ventress. She did not understand what she meant, but she liked the last statement. She wanted to get back at the rebels and the demon involved in her father's death.

“Oh, my father! Him I will surely avenge,” Wanda replied, not minding the oath she had made. She looked at Alexis, still holding her left arm in his right hand. “Is the Healing Méndez all you need for Jason to get well?”

“Yes. Jason will be fine when we have the Healing Méndez,” Ventress said with no flicker of emotion on her face.

“Because you need the Healing Méndez to heal him.” Wanda turned back to Ventress to confirm.

“Yes, Wanda,” Alexis said, looking more focused than she’d yet seen. “Your brother and so many lives depend on you returning with the Healing Méndez. I have doubled the people going with your group because there are children among you. You have to return with the Healing Méndez within the next forty-eight hours.”

“What if the rebels will only release the Healing Méndez in exchange for me?”

“Here,” Alexis said. He and Ventress smiled as if they had prepared for her question. He passed an item wrapped inside a silver linen cloth to Wanda. “Hold this. Don't show it to anyone. Not Bathe, not Petter, not Becky. Someone is feeding the rebels information from inside the fortress, and I don't know who. Keep this with you as an extra tool against any demon that Bathe or the others can't overcome, or in case the rebels don't want to release you. Only open it as a last resort. Any demon will bow at its glow, providing us time to come to your aid.”

“Okay.” Wanda nodded as she accepted the item. It was small, even in her hands. She put the silver linen cloth in the pocket of her jeans. She felt the hardness of the object through her jeans.

“The journey today will be short,” Ventress said, and Wanda wondered how she knew that. “The Healing Méndez is golden in appearance, with the Vitrian symbol on every side. You can't miss it.” Ventress then walked away.

Wanda watched her as she left. She was still feeling the tiny jolts in her left arm when Bathe shouted her name to get her attention. She turned back to see Alexis already by the jeep. Everyone else had stepped into their jeeps as well, the engines running. She got inside Bathe's jeep, and the journey commenced.

About half an hour in, Wanda finally paid attention to the discussion going on by Becky, Petter, and Bathe, all in the car with her.

“You really should have allowed someone else to drive,” Petter whined.

“You're all children. I would have only allowed an adult,” Bathe answered. He looked straight ahead as he drove on the uneven mountain road.

“Well, you should have allowed some of the other adults then,” Becky said. “Rather than putting three children and yourself in a car.”

“This is my team, so you are my responsibility.” There was no remorse in his voice. “I would rather have you guys ride with me than anyone else. And besides, that's why we are the second vehicle in the convoy.”

Petter, who was seated next to Bathe up front, looked down into the valley. They were driving on the rough edges of the mountain. “How many minutes more?”

“Another half an hour or so, I'd guess,” Bathe replied.

“It's quite far.” Becky squinted.

“Would you expect the rebels to hide any of their locations close to the fortress?” Bathe asked.

“No, I wouldn't,” Becky said. She glanced at Wanda, and they stared at each other for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry for going overboard this morning,” Becky said as the car hit an undulating part of the road and bounced up and down.

“It's all right,” Wanda replied. “Thanks for riding with me.” She decided to lighten the hatred she had toward Becky.

“My pleasure,” Becky said.

Wanda noticed Bathe watching in the rearview mirror She picked up a smile on his face when she and Becky spoke politely to each other.

The car in front of them let out a loud, rapid noise. It swerved from one side of the road to the other several times as the driver tried to control it.

“They've lost a tire,” Petter shouted as the car collided with a tree and slammed to a halt.

Before any of them could react, Bathe turned and shouted, “Down, Petter!”

Petter ducked just as a sharp arrow shattered the windshield of the jeep. It missed Petter by half an inch and buried itself into his seat.

Wanda shivered as the glass broke. She pressed herself against the seat she sat on. Her breathing came in short gasps.

The arrow was long and black, strengthened by the use of metal and silver. It wasn't an arrow shot from an ordinary wooden bow; this came from a powerful, engineered string bow.

Bathe turned around, but before he could say a word, more arrows flew in their direction.

“Duck, everyone!” Bathe shouted as he turned the wheel of the jeep without delay and moved the car off the open mountain road. He drove for some feet into the woods, closer to the cliff, and stopped.

Wanda glanced back and saw the other two cars hadn’t followed. The arrows had damaged them. Two arrows penetrated the hood of one jeep and the tire of the last vehicle.

“Out, everyone! Now!” Bathe's voice was steadfast. He pushed his door open.

“They’re trying to kill us,” Becky shouted, and Wanda heard the panic in her voice.

The instant Bathe stepped out, seven Vitrian adults stood next to him. Wanda looked around. The cars had been full when they left.

“Where are the others?” Wanda asked.

Bathe ignored her and looked through the dense trees.

“Knocked out by the arrows,” one of the men answered, and everyone turned to him.

Wanda saw that he was young, in his mid- or late-twenties. Three of the other adults were in their late twenties too.

“The arrowheads have been dipped into something that knocks us out on impact,” the young man continued.

“I thought I noticed something like that when I saw the arrow,” Bathe said.

“I saw them,” a woman added. “They're coming down the mountaintop using ropes.”

“How many? We should shoot back at them.” Becky spoke before Bathe could.

“Ten or more,” the first man answered. “I agree we should fire back at them.”

“No, they are Vitrians, remember?” Bathe said.

Wanda couldn’t believe he didn’t want to retaliate. She wasn’t the only one staring at him in disbelief. The thought of what Bathe was hiding or up to filled her mind.

“They aren’t trying to kill us; their arrows were meant to knock us out,” Bathe said. “We didn't prepare for that. If we fire our arrows at them, we will kill our brothers and sisters. You don't want that type of blood on your hands. It's a curse to kill another Vitrian.”

“I still don't agree with not shooting back,” the lady who spotted them on the mountaintop said.

“We can take ten or twelve of them easily,” one of the adults added.

“That's if we don't have any demons to fight also,” Becky said.

“With demons, we will be outnumbered,” Petter said.

“Okay,” Bathe said. “We need a safer place to fight from—a place where we can get Wanda away from the open. We don't want any demons attacking in the open.”

As if Bathe's words had summoned a demon, a massive sound like a plane colliding with the tall trees came from above them. A considerable part of a tree trunk with the branches and leaves fell; it crashed to the ground. Something powerful was breaking apart the trees. Within a second, the two big trees in front of them moved and shook vigorously as leaves fell from them.

Everyone staggered backward. They turned toward the top of the trees, taking up fighting positions. Most of them had their Praying Méndez in one hand and a Necatus in the other. Others pulled an elongating knife out of their jackets. For the first time, Wanda noticed they all wore jackets with elastic hooks and straps inside to hang their fighting tools. Others had the hooks attached to their beltline, with several Necatus and shrunken knives hanging from them.

A large creature dropped from above. The impact on the ground was colossal. Wanda and a few other Vitrians shuddered.

“Bathe!” Wanda called in horror. She knew their worst nightmare stood in front of them. The grayish-white creature rose from its squatting position in slow motion and roared with all its strength. The veins and muscles in the creature's face stood out, and the sound echoed across the mountaintop. It leveled its head and looked at the Vitrians. Its gaze settled on Wanda.

“What is that?” Becky asked, her voice frightened.

The Vitrians pulled back, dragging their feet on dry leaves.

“The demon I challenged two days ago,” Bathe breathed, and his response shattered all hope.

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 12

 

Chapter 12

 

Bathe’s words made them hysterical. The entire Vitrian community had heard of his unfortunate encounter with the bizarre creature in front of them.

Wanda looked into the beast’s eyes, and for an instant, she thought about what Becky had said to her at training: “People will be injured or might die today.” Maybe it only came to get her. After all, the creature tried to get her days ago, but Bathe and her mum blocked the beast.

“Bathe,” Wanda said beside him. “I don't want anyone to get hurt. I think it only wants me.”

“It would kill you with a single blow,” Bathe said. “We are not here to do a trial with a beast. We are here to find the rebels.”

Bathe's tone didn't waver; neither did he look back at Wanda. Wanda could see Bathe was determined to see her safely through the journey. He looked at Petter and handed him the keys to the car. “Take Wanda somewhere safe.”

The creature twitched its nose, like a rat perceiving an odor in the air. It raised its head, and its gaze shifted from Wanda and the Vitrians to the trees behind them.

Wanda felt movement behind her, and then a horrible, nauseating smell followed. The strong rotten egg smell caught everyone's attention.

Wanda turned, knowing the smell could mean nothing else amid the woods with only trees around. In the split of a microsecond, she felt her heart stop beating. She felt like gagging at what she saw.

The demon stood in a shaded copse of trees about thirty feet away; its body shape was so warped in places that Wanda couldn't believe it possible. Its head was lower than the head position of any other animal, making the shoulders of the seven-foot creature look higher than they should be. Its ears were big and pointed like a bat's. The black eyes landed on Wanda like it had found its food for the evening.

“Bathe,” Wanda said.

“Not now, Wanda,” Bathe said, concentrating on the creature in front of him.

“Bathe, you need to see this.” She raised her voice, almost shouting, and at the same time, the creature opened its mouth. Razor-like teeth and fangs on both sides of the mouth ran from top to bottom jaws. The fangs were each as big and as long as the forefinger of a grown adult. Between the fangs were other smaller, razor-like teeth. Its upper body was like that of a bat, but its two legs were like sturdy horse legs. Where the hoofs were supposed to be were three sharp talons, stretching up from the legs and curving back to the ground.

“The Night Furfur.” Petter said its name slowly. He stood to the side, watching both the Night Furfur and the first creature from the corner of his eyes.

“We are outnumbered,” Becky said in a frightened tone. Another demon appeared not too far off from the Night Furfur.

“Selene—Greek demon of the moon,” someone muttered as they watched the other demon beside the night Furfur come into view. “How on earth are rebels summoning such things from the Abyss?”

Wanda felt as if she’d been thrown into a pool of worms when the creepy demon called Selene walked into view. She pressed herself into Petter behind her. The beast had two big hands fitted into a body that was crawling on tiny legs; it was like a human-size centipede. Its head was the combination of two animals Wanda couldn't fathom, but its eyes were reptile-like. The tiny legs and the way it crawled grossed her out.

“Get your arrows ready!” Bathe shouted.

The Night Furfur launched at the same time Bathe spoke. It took a step, and wide wings appeared, matching the size of the demon.

The moment the Night Furfur moved, the creature from the trees broke into a run, quickly closing the distance between it and the Vitrians.

“Don't wait for me, release the arrows,” Bathe shouted as they were attacked from both sides.

Like watching a movie, Wanda saw the creature that had attacked her and Bathe on their way to the fortress get to them first. It roared as four different arrows struck its body.

Wanda turned to see it in front of Bathe and two other Vitrians, who had brought out long, heavy-looking knives and machetes. Before they could strike it, the creature leaped over everyone and landed on the side where Wanda stood. Wanda turned to see the Night Furfur was already upon her. It opened its mouth wide for the kill toward Wanda's head.

The creature sent a heavy blow to the mouth of the Night Furfur that sent the disfigured demon flying backward. It crashed into a tree and fought to get up as its taloned, horse-like legs wobbled.

While the Night Furfur struggled, Selene, the other demon, climbed on the grayish-white thing. Selene swung its two large human-like hands on the grayish-white creature and sliced its talons through it, but the creature didn't move or cry out.

Bathe pulled Wanda backward as the other Vitrians staggered away, observing the unprecedented fight between the supernatural creatures.

“What’s going on?” Petter asked Bathe.

“That's impossible,” one of the adults said as everyone stared in amazement.

“What is it?” Wanda asked, seeing the shock in their eyes.

“They are not supposed to fight each other,” Bathe said. “A house divided against its own cannot stand.”

“How can this be?” Becky blurted, waking from the trance she had gone into at the sight of the grayish-white creature fighting Selene and the Night Furfur.

“I don't know, but it gives us the opportunity to get out of here.” Bathe's words were rushed.

“We don't have enough cars for everyone,” Petter said, his words also quick.

“Damn the rebels,” one of the Vitrians cursed.

“They planned it well,” Becky said. “Got rid of our cars and then let the demons loose.”

Like a flash in the sky, the Night Furfur landed on top of the jeep Wanda rode in. The weight of the demon pressed the roof inward. The demon gave an ear-shattering cry as its bat-like mouth stretched open. It focused on Wanda and the Vitrians while the grayish-white creature and Selene fought on. The Vitrians released their arrows, and they penetrated the Night Furfur easily but didn't stop it. It wobbled on the jeep, then spread its wings and jumped off. More arrows launched as it leaped. Wanda flinched, knowing the arrows might not be enough to stop the big demon from launching at her and tearing into anyone in its path apart.

Before she could cover her eyes, she noticed the Night Furfur's wings wobble in the air. It stumbled as it flew over Wanda and the Vitrians, who all bent at the same time to avoid it. It crashed on the far side with a heavy item on its back: the grayish-white creature. It had jumped and collided with it in midair.

The creature pinned the Night Furfur down, pulled, and tore off one of the wings. Fresh red blood spilled from the deep wound. The Night Furfur cried in agony, and then the gray creature sent a blow directly to the demon's head. Wanda, Becky, and a few other Vitrians shuddered at the powerful strike. The blow crushed the skull of the Furfur and ended its misery. The Furfur disintegrated in a wink.

Everyone stepped back as the gray creature stretched and adjusted its body, wriggling it to get rid of the pain from the talons that had cut through its flesh at several points. Wanda looked back to see that the other demon, Selene, was dead too; it disintegrated just as she turned to see it, and they were left with the grayish-white thing.

This creature wanted her and wasn't willing to share.

Bathe mumbled something about the wounds of the creature, like he had seen a weak point in the beast. Deep red blood spilled from the creature’s arm where one of the other demons had bitten it and from the chest where the Night Furfur’s talon had poked it. No demon ichor wept from the wound. Its face was wet from the battle, and though its deep red eyes revealed it was vexed, the fight hadn’t seemed to stress it physically.

“Petter, Becky, get Wanda away from here,” Bathe said urgently as he and the other Vitrians stood at attention, waiting for what the creature was going to do next.

“Noooo,” the creature shouted immediately when Bathe spoke.

Wanda gasped, unable to believe it could talk so clearly. She had overheard Bathe saying it to Alexis, but it had not really clicked for her.

Before Wanda realized what was happening, the battle she had hoped would not take place commenced. A knife flew in the air toward the creature. The creature caught the blade with its left hand and tossed it away like a baby throwing a soft toy; it then rushed toward the Vitrians. Some Necatus followed the knife, but it knocked them off one after the other. A few feet from them, it halted, as if having second thoughts about killing them. It looked at itself. Five Necatus were stuck in its body. It grunted at the silver objects penetrating its skin, picked them out one by one, and threw them out like one tossing away a toothpick. Two of the adults jumped in front of it with sparkling, menacing-looking silvery machetes in their hands.

“No!” Bathe shouted with his hand outstretched, but his words were too late. They were already in front of it.

One of the adults struck with his knife; it barely made any impact on the creature's skin. It looked at the adults with hateful eyes. Sweeping his huge right hand, it knocked them together and sent them into the air and crashing through the trees.

Wanda gave a short and sharp scream in horror.

The creature was about to take another step when arrows flew in its direction. Four of them sank into its body.

Wanda looked at the remaining Vitrians around her. Four of them had bows in their hands. The upper and lower parts of the bows were made of silver; the sight window was black, and the string was tight and firm. The arrowhead was made of silver, making it deadly to whatever demon it contacted. The creature looked at the arrows penetrating its body and then back at the Vitrians. It shook its head like it was wondering when they were going to learn.

“Again!” Bathe instructed, and more arrows flew in the air, but this time it was ready.

The creature knocked the arrows off as fast as they came. One by one and very quickly, it pulled out each one of the arrows stuck in its body.

Everyone watched in shock; the surprise on their faces made Wanda realize that in a typical fight with demons, this many arrows were fatal to the beast they struck.

The demon no longer walked to get to them; it leapt. Petter and Bathe looked at each other and brought out their Praying Méndez. Becky saw them and promptly brought hers out too. The other Vitrians raised the bows in their hands, but Wanda could see the anxiety on their faces. They weren't sure how to stop the creature.

The creature landed with a loud thud on the ground. A bout of jitters ran through Wanda. The instant it saw the Méndez shining, it held back and turned its head away.

“We bind you,” Bathe shouted. Both Bathe and Petter raised their Méndez up high and stood in confidence. “You will not cross this place, nor shall you touch Wanda Troms or anyone here. Go back to the abyss.” Bathe’s voice grew louder with each word.

The Méndez in Petter and Bathe's hands were shining brightly. Bathe's glowed heavily, much more than it had two days before. The creature covered its face from the divine light. Before it could do anything, another four arrows buried into its body. It didn't move its hand from its face, but it took a step back, which brought Wanda hope.

Just then, she saw people dressed in black and wearing masks dropping from the mountainside like ninjas onto to the road they’d been on before. Their outfits covered them from their necks down to their legs. Seeing them in the distance, Wanda remembered the person on the bike on the way to the fortress before the grayish-white demon attacked.

“The rebels are here,” someone said.

“The four of you, keep them engaged.” Bathe looked toward the adults still with them. “We will figure out what to do with this creature.”

“Shouldn't the demon have disappeared by now?” Becky asked, and Wanda turned to see her as the other four Vitrians ran back to the road.

Becky's Méndez had a feeble glow. It wasn't bright, which revealed that Becky had not been praying adequately.

“Yes,” Petter said. “Why is the demon not disappearing?”

“I cannot,” the demon spoke, and again it startled them. This was not a grunt or a roar. It was a voice, a clear human voice. “For the Abyss is not my home.”

The Vitrians froze. Wanda couldn't believe what was unfolding; the supernatural light was supposed to be harmful to demons, but obviously not to this one.

The voice sounded familiar to Wanda, like a voice she'd heard before. She tried to concentrate, but the apprehension around her overwhelmed her thoughts.

To her horror, the creature lowered its hand, and she knew it was now looking directly into the light. Bathe's face showed his confusion.

The creature grabbed the Méndezes; it closed its two hands around each one. Both produced a sound like a wet cloth quenching the heat on hot metal. A tiny flicker of smoke erupted from them as their light went out.

“And your praying is very weak,” the creature added.

Bathe and Petter took their hands off the Méndezes as the demon crushed them with ease. The creature's deep red eyes worried Wanda. She wasn't sure if it was because the demon looked directly into the light from the Méndez or if it was a new level of resentment toward them, but she knew its anger was on a new level—one set to kill.

In a moment, Bathe had a knife and a machete in his hands. The tips of the machete shone brightly.

“Petter, Becky,” Bathe called, “drive Wanda away as fast as you can.

The demon turned toward Petter immediately. Wanda expected it to hit him, but it didn't. It walked past him and hit the hood of the car so hard the hood caved in instantly.

“No!” Bathe shouted. For a second, Wanda thought the shout was about the car; then she saw Becky jumping high behind the demon. She stuck her Méndez into the creature's body.

In a reflexive action, the demon turned and hit Becky so hard she flew away, and her body slammed into the ground. She lay motionless.

Bathe was on it. He swung his knife into the creature’s back.

“Go, Petter—now!” Bathe shouted as the creature turned to face him.

Bathe swung in the air as the creature moved. He held onto the knife still stuck in the creature's back. He balanced himself and struck with the machete, but because the creature was still moving, the impact wasn't as strong as the first.

Petter and Wanda rushed into the car. Petter gassed the engine. The engine grumbled but started; the heavy blow on the hood hadn’t destroyed it. Petter accelerated and moved straight to top speed.

“Petter, stop, stop!” Wanda shouted as they neared the cliff. Petter brought the grunting jeep to a speeding halt. The tires screeched, rolling backward against the ground and then stopping about three feet from the edge of the cliff.

She and Petter looked at Bathe and the creature. After some minutes of struggling to get the knife off, it was able to get ahold of Bathe and the knife. It held Bathe up high in front of it, holding his wrists tight together in one hand. Its second hand was in a fist, its eyes burning with hatred.

Blood coated one side of Bathe’s face. He looked at Wanda as the creature lifted him above the ground, his hands stretched out above his head.

From this distance, Wanda could read his thoughts, how sorry he was for her dad's death, for Jason, and for not protecting her enough. She opened the door and hurried out of the car. Petter stretched to pull her back, but he was too late.

“No!” she screamed, and it echoed off the mountains.

The creature threw Bathe down and leaped like it had been summoned. In the blink of an eye, it landed in front of Wanda. She backed up, breathing heavily until her back hit the car. She hadn’t expected the impetuous appearance of the creature, nor had she expected it to cover the distance so quickly. Bathe flew out of her mind as she stared at the angered eyes of the beast. Their eyes locked in an eternal moment.

She remembered her Praying Méndez, and she brought it out. Unexpectedly, she became lost in a reverie, holding the Méndez and watching the creature's eyes. The creature was bleeding in several places as arrows, Necatus, and Becky's Méndez projected out of its body. Watching Wanda, the creature's eyes changed, and it caught Wanda's attention . . . they were not the venomous cat-like eyes anymore. She stood in profound astonishment at the eyes she was looking at, speechless.

Petter, who was out of the car now, came to Wanda's aid holding out a knife. He was about to say something when he heard Bathe behind the creature. Bathe ran the distance with all the strength left in him and collided with the creature, making one last big strike with the knife. He fastened it in the creature's back with all the force he could garner.

Bathe’s speed pushed the creature, causing both of them to smash into the jeep. Petter, who was well alert, moved away in time, but Wanda, lost in reverie, didn't move.

Bathe, Wanda, the vehicle, and the monster moved toward the edge of the cliff. Both Bathe and the creature reached for Wanda, then they all tumbled over the cliff.

Petter ran to the edge of the cliff and cried out. It was an intense cry of horror; a cry Wanda had never heard before. The scream was that of pain. The veins in his neck popped and stretched to their length like a string pulled to its breaking limit. He fell on his knees as they toppled over and away into the water hundreds of feet below.

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Chapter 13

 

Chapter 13

 

Wanda opened her eyes slowly after several dreams that revolved mostly around her father's funeral and the unforeseen events that had overwhelmed her life in the last few days.

For a second, the word dead continued to come up in her memory. Dread knocked on her heart as a flashback reminded her of the horrifying expression on Petter’s face as she flailed her arms in the air, falling off the cliff. She closed her eyes tight and tried to get the image out of her head.

She opened her eyes again with better focus this time and studied the place around her. The room was built with ancient wood that smelled like it had burned over and over again. She wiggled her body and saw she was covered with a thick brown blanket. Fresh firewood burned in a fireplace. She gazed at it, thinking that was where the smell came from, but she noticed it was too small to be responsible for the strong odor in the room.

The room was warm, and she wondered why the fireplace was lit during summer. Even the walls had burn marks on them like the place had been burned recently by heavy fire. Some of the burnt wood had been painted over to make it look better.

A door opened, and someone stepped in. Wanda clutched at the blanket, covering herself tightly, frightened of who or what it might be. The rebels and how they wanted her came to mind.

Why am I not in their prison or a closed-up, barricaded room? she thought in trepidation as the person came closer.

“Ah, I see you're awake,” a male voice said.

The voice. Wanda recognized it. It had tormented her in her dreams and memories multiple times. She would know it at any time and in any situation.

She sat up straight, holding onto the blanket covering her legs. She wasn't cold or afraid anymore; she was all hope, wishing beyond all her imaginations that the person would be who she wished it was.

The boy walked up to her slowly; Wanda's heart throbbed furiously at each step he took. She stared uncontrollably at his face as he squatted in front of her. He raised his hand to touch her forehead. Wanda twitched a little when the hand touched her skin but made no sudden movement to run or object. She only sat up with her mouth slightly open as she looked directly at him like she had seen a ghost.

“Your fever is gone,” he said, and Wanda only watched him in shock and bewilderment. Her lips parted slightly, and her eyes wandered and searched his face to confirm he was real.

“Am . . . am I . . . dead?” she asked, speaking the words one by one, making the short phrase longer than it should be.

“Why?” He giggled. “Of course not.” He smiled. “Well, perhaps you’re dead. I know I’m not.”

“Eric!” Wanda squealed. His name came out of her mouth with much more force than she had planned. She didn't know she had let go of the blanket until her arms wrapped Eric's neck like she had known him for a long time.

She placed her head on his shoulder in joy that he had survived the attack at school. She had dreamed, deliberated, and wished in the last two days of her life that a miracle would save him.

“You're alive.”

“Well.” He shrugged. “Yes, I am.”

He let her grab him and hold on to him as long as she wanted, but he didn’t touch her.

“The demon attacked you,” she said with a shaky voice. “I thought you were dead.” She let go of him, her eyes full of tears of joy. She sniffed a little, trying to control her emotions.

“It's all right—I made it!” Eric winked.

His intense blue eyes looked as beautiful as she remembered them. She smiled in response, and a faint, beautiful smile lit his face.

“How—how did you escape the demon?” she asked. “You said it was sent to fetch me.”

“Well.” His lips twitched as he continued to smile.

The smile mesmerized her, and she couldn’t stop smiling, unable to control her feelings. She stared at his chiseled features, reminiscing on how he looked the few times she had seen him on her school’s premises. He looked even more handsome now in close range and all cleaned up. She remembered how drawn to him she had felt the day he came to rescue her. He looked rough, probably from running all over the place, but still very attractive. She recalled the warmth she felt at his presence and how she blushed even with the pandemonium of the demon’s attack at school.

“The demon didn't come for me,” he explained, cutting her off. “Demons don't waste time on other targets. They're not like humans that get easily distracted. By the time you were gone, its work was more or less done.”

Remembering his heroic nature, how he rushed to her aid even though she thought he was the demon, Wanda's lips twitched. Unintentionally, she moved her head closer to his, leaving only a finger-length space between their lips as their noses almost touched. He didn't pull back; Wanda fidgeted and placed her hands in her lap.

He took a deep breath. He smelled sweet and fresh. Wanda reckoned that he must have stepped out of the shower not too long before.

She 'd never felt like this before. She was tired and weak, but it wasn't weakness or tiredness that had her blushing. This was different, totally different from the other day when she was with Petter and wanted Petter to hold her in his arms because of how overwhelmed she felt by everything happening around her.

Eric cleared his throat, tilting his head slightly to the side. Wanda followed and turned her head to the opposite side. She knew it was too late; there was nothing she could hide. She knew he had noticed her blushing and understood she was pressing for a kiss.

“Sorry, I was staring,” he said, and got up.

“No, I was the one doing the staring,” Wanda replied, impressed that he was taking responsibility for something he hadn't even done.

“I had to set the fireplace up because it gets cold here at night.” 

Wanda took the blanket off her lap and realized she was still dressed in the clothes she wore to the battle. They were dry but stiff, indicating they were wet when she was placed on the sofa.

“The Battle, the rebels,” she said as the flood of issues around her charged back to her memory.

Eric turned from the fireplace where he adjusted the logs. Wanda looked up, and their eyes met. She quickly got up.

“Who are you? Are you one of the rebels?”

There was no reaction from Eric, so Wanda didn't know if he was annoyed by her utterance or not.

“I see you're more alert now,” he said. “For a moment back there, I wondered if you had lost your memory. I expected, ‘Who are you?’ to be one of your first questions.”

Wanda wanted to defend the reason why she hadn't asked the question first, but her lips only quivered. She knew she had no good response; seeing him had overwhelmed her, and with that, thoughts of the rebels, the battle, and her fall from the cliff left her memory.

“No, I'm not with these rebels you speak of; neither can I deny that I am a part of them.”

Wanda frowned. She shook her head, trying to understand him. “So, you know about the rebels?”

“Well.” He bent down and adjusted the burning logs, which seemed to be producing more fire than necessary. “I know the other Vitrians in the fortress call them that.”

“You know about the Vitrians?” Wanda instantly felt stupid. Of course, he does. He uses their fighting tools—idiot, she thought to herself.

“Yes,” Eric answered. He stood up and dusted his hands, then walked to the other end of the L-shaped living area. Wanda followed and saw a small wooden dining table at the corner. Nothing was on the table but a box, a wooden box—exactly like the one her mum showed her and told her belonged to her father.

“Where did you get that box?” she demanded. Her heart beat rapidly, her thoughts raced, and her head filled with a thousand questions flashing back and forth as she spoke. 

“It belongs to me,” Eric said.

“No, it belongs to my father,” Wanda corrected.

Eric dropped his shoulders, looking frustrated.

Multiple thoughts flashed through Wanda's mind. Eric has the box. Eric was at school to defend me. Eric knows the rebels, he's not one of them, but he is a part of them . . .

She shook her head, not understanding what was going on. She focused on what she really wanted. “Look, I don't know who you are or where you're from—”

He suddenly turned to look at her, his eyes penetrating. She paused, wondering if he wanted to say something, but he only pulled the edges of his lips up in a formal manner.

“I just want the rebels to give me the Healing Méndez,” she said.

“What?” Eric chuckled, his expression bewildered.

“I need it . . . to heal my brother Jason,” Wanda said. How had Eric healed so fast after the wounds he got fighting the demon at her school?

“The Healing Méndez,” he repeated, and then looked away like she wasn’t making any sense. He walked to a shelf made of wooden planks fastened onto the wall. He scrambled about for some item that Wanda could care less about.

“Can you talk to me and stop acting like I'm not here?” she said. “You must have used some supernatural item to heal yourself. Could it be . . . the Healing Méndez? Is that why you healed fast from the wounds incurred from the fight with the demon at my school?”

“What do you want me to do?” Eric turned to her, his gaze again penetrating and as direct as an eagle's eyes set on a target.

Wanda stopped by the fireplace, next to the dining table. “I just want the Healing Méndez. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“The Healing Méndez is at the fortress!” Eric said, his eyes serious.

“What?” Wanda backed up in confusion. “No, it’s with the rebels.”

Eric laughed, and the laughter only aggravated her more. “Were you told that, or did you see it?”

Wanda thought quickly. He knew she had never laid her eyes on the Healing Méndez. She kept quiet, but Eric smiled.

“Okay,” she concurred. “I was told I need it to heal my brother. I know you've not met him, but—”

“I know Jason very well,” he butted in. He turned his face back to the shelf, searching again.

“I need it!” she shouted, suddenly vexed. “And I’m going to get it no matter the means.”

“Wow.” Eric turned in surprise. “You do get annoyed.”

“You better tell me what you know—”

“You better tell me how you know my name.”

“Arhhh!” Wanda exclaimed. Why did he care about that? “What does that have to do with my request for the Healing Méndez?”

“Answer me, and I will give you more answers.”

She tightened her jaws in desperation. “Look, I only have . . . forty-eight hours.” The words came out with uncertainty. She realized she didn't know what day it was or if she still had forty-eight hours.

“I only have a few minutes,” Eric answered.

“Okay, Okay.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “I got your name from a close friend.”

“Name?” he demanded, his eyes straight on her. He looked neither annoyed nor disturbed.

“Tutu,” she replied. He frowned, and she thought he was wondering what type of name that was. “Look, I'm not lying—she's my classmate at school, and I don't know where she got your name from.” Wanda gave a short answer, though Tutu had explained to her how she got the name. She continued. “You have to answer me now—I need the Healing Méndez.”

“I don't have it,” he answered. His hands were open wide as if to reveal he was telling the truth.

“Yes, not you, the rebels.”

“They don't have it, and they're not rebels—they are Vitrians.”

“They are?” She was alarmed. “They're trying to destroy the Vitrians. They killed my father and sent demons to Jason.”

“Isn't it easy, how we pass judgment by listening to only one side of a story? Your so-called rebels don't have the Healing Méndez. They have something else, though.”

“How do you know? Did you see it, or were you told?” Wanda tried using the words he had used earlier on her.

Eric laughed. “Forget it.”

Wanda gaped in surprise. “Forget it? The rebels . . . they have been consorting with demons, using them to kill Vitrians, and you expect me to forget getting what can heal Jason and so many sick Vitrians?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eric raised his voice as well. Wanda trembled, frightened. “You need to know what is happening, Wanda.  The demons were summoned by Alexis.” He spoke the name with venomous hatred in his voice. “How do you think the children died? The ones with likely traits of The Chosen, or the parents who were killed after they left the fortress? Or let me guess. You think the arrows they fired at you three days ago when you were on your way to the fortress were meant to keep you alive.” Eric stopped abruptly. He went totally silent and stiff like a dead body.

“You know the stories.” Wanda could not hide her amazement. Thoughts flashed in her memory the instant Eric mentioned their journey to the fortress. Refusing to accept the thoughts in her mind, she took a step into the section of the dining area, closer to the table, as trepidation swept through her body. “Turn, I need to see your face,” she demanded, summoning courage.

“Sorry I raised my voice.”

“Turn and talk to me,” Wanda insisted.

Eric turned, and instantly Wanda staggered back. Fear engulfed her like a fly caught in the web of a spider. Her breathing became heavy. She was staring at those—those eyes again. His eyes had changed, and they were now the cat-like irises she had noticed at school. They were real; her eyes hadn’t deceived her.

“What are you?” she gasped, watching the eyes as she took a step back. She felt stupid for not remembering them. What had she been thinking? Bathe had mentioned anyone who could see demons and was not a Vitrian must be a demon. The rebels were playing with her mind.

“Don't be . . .” Eric took two quick steps and reached out to keep her from falling.

“Get away from me,” Wanda shouted. She fell on her back but didn't think about the pain. She felt for her Praying Méndez.

“It's all right,” Eric said. He bent down and moved closer to Wanda.

Wanda searched for her Méndez without taking her eyes off Eric. Her hand touched something in her pocket just as Eric spoke.

“My eyes get like this when I’m stressed or tense.” He tried to lighten the mood, his hand still reaching for her. He almost touched her, but all Wanda could see were the dangerous, cat-like eyes.

Wanda's hands trembled in her pocket, and she pulled them out. The item wrapped in the silver scarf that Alexis had given her came out. She and Eric turned to the silver cloth and watched as the object rolled, and then the fabric fell open. A small stone fell out, and it glowed heavily in deep sky blue the instant it was revealed from the cover of the cloth. Wanda wondered what it was as she gazed at it.

“Ahhh!” Eric cried out at the appearance of the stone and pushed his body back. He immediately pulled his hand up, blocking his eyes from the glowing blue stone. He got up and crashed into the table behind him. As if made of weak wood instead of thick timber, it crumbled under his weight. Wanda watched in amazement as Eric tried to push himself back from the stone.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, his tone harsh. His voice had begun to sound different.

She remembered what Alexis had said about the item and using it against any demon.

“Alexis gave it to me.” Confidence built up in Wanda's voice. “A blessed tool used against any demon.”

“That is no blessed tool,” Eric cried, his voice totally different. He pulled his hands off his face for Wanda to see the structure changing. Shock gripped Wanda, and she quickly moved her body farther from the dining table, knocking something off behind her as she pushed back with her hands and legs on the floor.

“Eric,” Wanda said in a low tone.

The thing taking shape in front of her was frightening. It felt like she was watching a movie with a shapeshifter gradually changing.

“That is a stone carved from witchcraft . . . from the depth of the Abyss itself,” Eric said.

Eric, his hands suddenly looking more prolonged than usual, dragged himself to the box that fell from the broken table. He forced it open and brought out a Praying Méndez. He threw the Méndez to Wanda.

Wanda caught it. “What am I to do with this?”

“Pray,” Eric said in a deeper voice that Wanda recognized but hoped it wasn't what she thought.

“For what?” she asked as fear riddled her voice. The words came out involuntarily. What she was staring at was unimaginable. She froze where she was as Eric changed, his torso becoming longer and his clothes tearing apart little by little.

“The stone will make me go wild,” he tried to explain. “Pray that I will not hurt you.”

He was changing shape more and more. The stone was indeed not binding or stopping him. The stone was . . . it was aiding him to change, though she could see his body was fighting against it as he grunted and made agonizing sounds.

Quickly Wanda tossed the silver cloth over the stone, and the glow went out. She took the Méndez and tried to pray, but she could only mumble a few words because she saw a shadow filling up the room. She turned toward Eric again to see her nightmare in front of her. The grayish-white creature stood up, its body bent from the waist up so that it could fit into the shack. Its eyes were now the cat-like eyes she'd seen before; they were reddened and ready for the kill.

“Run, run.” She heard a voice like her dad's echo in her thoughts. She got up in one push, ran past the sofa, and rushed toward the door Eric had come from. She heard him crushing items and the wall beside her as he ran after her, but she didn't look back. She knew he was big enough to catch up with her quickly.

She barely stepped out before Eric smashed a section of the wall down. She looked back and saw the thing he had changed into. It stood outside the shack. She looked around and realized she had no clue where she was. The shack was the only house in view; no other form of shelter existed. All she could see were trees to her left and right and the little open area the shack occupied. The old house stood alone in the entire area, like a vacation home for campers or to escape civilization.

She knew Eric would jump at her in one leap. She was right. He jumped, but she was smart enough to turn sideways and run into the dense part of the woods. Eric landed furiously on the ground, skidding away some twelve feet. He stopped and stood up on his huge feet. He ran after her into the woods, pushing the trees out of his way. His strength was inexplicable. He bent down and pushed large tree stems in his path as easily as if they were little sticks.

Wanda ran, feeling the creature directly behind her. It stretched its arms to catch her, and she saw two massive trees growing side by side. She ran into the tiny space between. It barely got one of its fingers scrambling for her as it touched her through the small space between the trees. The creature's hand got wedged between the two trees. Wanda pressed her body out of the weak grip of the big finger, which was as thick as her neck. She turned, and with all the strength in her, she stabbed the Méndez into the creature's palm. Wanda saw the enormous supernatural power of the thing as it roared. It gave one of the trees a massive blow with its right hand. The entire tree shook vigorously, and then it pushed the tree out of its path. Wanda watched in disbelief as the big stem cracked, and with an earth-shaking sound, the tree fell to the ground.

Wanda lost her balance and fell the moment the tree hit the earth. Without any hesitation, she got up, turned, and ran a good thirty feet trying to escape him. She slipped and found herself dangling off the edge. Her right hand was barely holding onto the stone that kept her from falling. The next level beneath her was about forty feet below and made of solid mountain rock. She knew attempting a jump was futile.

The creature walked up to the edge where she was hanging, his eyes still burning fire red. He looked down at her, and for a moment, they both stared at one another. Wanda was sweating, her heart pounding hard in her chest, and her hair was damp from running. Her fingers began to slip. She tried to grip harder, but she couldn't. Her hands hurt terribly.

“Eric, Eric,” she shouted, fear in her voice, hoping Eric was still somewhere inside the creature and would come to her aid. She lost her grip on the rock and was about to drop when the creature caught her hand. He pulled her back to the top. She took in a deep breath, kneeling by the edge and panting heavily. She looked up at it. It had moved backward about twenty-five feet into a squatting position, and its eyes had changed back to blue human eyes.

“Thank you.” Her lips quivered as her body continued to shiver intensely.

Movements in the woods alerted her that they were not alone. Figures dressed in black from head to toe suddenly encompassed them. The rebels had arrived.

There were about a dozen of them. The man in front held a blanket. He placed the blanket around the creature as it changed back into Eric.

“It's okay. It's okay, son," the man said, holding onto Eric's face and making sure he was all right.

Wanda's body felt as heavy as a log of wood as she looked at the man and Eric while several thoughts flashed through her mind. Eric had been protecting her all the while: in school, during the road attack, and the arrows. She recalled the arrows, and shock gripped her as she realized the arrows were truly meant for her—her mum had suspected the same. If it were not for the creature jumping in to protect her, the arrows would have shattered her body. And lastly, Eric had saved her from the fall over the cliff when the rebels attacked.

She looked up at a figure beside her. It was the man who had thrown the blanket over Eric. He looked down at her from his very tall height.

“My name is Xavier,” the man said with a faint smile. It was apparent from his smile he was expecting Wanda to be surprised to hear his name. “I knew your father very well—a good friend who will be remembered by many.”

Wanda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. According to Alexis and Bathe, Xavier was dead. “No,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief as her eyes searched Xavier's face. “No, it's not possible!”

“I know,” Xavier agreed. “If you give me some time, I will explain everything to you. You need to know the truth; you need to know who you truly are.”

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THE END

Continue with Vitrian Secrets Series Book 2

VITRIAN SECRETS – THE CHOSEN UNVEILED

 

 

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Prologue - The Chosen Unveiled (Book 2)

 

The Chosen Unveiled (Book 2)

 

Prologue

 

The world twirled in Xavier's eyes. Xavier did not see the demon that came and struck him from behind. All he felt was his sudden crash in the wall before he passed out, leaving his friend Marcus to fight alone.

Abruptly, Xavier came back to reality. A loud scream resonated in his ears. While he tried to gain full control of his environ, he wondered what demon had knocked him out?

The scream that had woken him came again, louder and more horrific. Celina! The man hunting her had found her. Xavier looked through the cracked wall of the room he was in and saw the man dragging Celina outside of the house.

“Don't!” Celina shouted. “No–No!”

With his vision still fuzzy, Xavier vaguely saw Celina stretch out her hand toward the other end of the room, as she screamed. With the horrific scream and stretched out hand, Xavier knew something happened in the house.

As he watched Celina, Xavier remembered he had left Marcus on that side. He looked in the direction of Celina's hand, wondering why she screamed. The shadow of a huge figure stood where Marcus should have been, but the wall between him and Marcus obstructed his vision. He didn't know what the creature was or if Marcus was still there.

Xavier tried to get up, but the pain was too much. His impaired vision and Celina’s horrified scream confused him. What was happening on the other side of the room? He needed to get to Marcus. He felt the wetness on his face when he tried to get up. His hand went to his face, and he knew he was bleeding the moment he touched it. He pushed with all his strength and got up. He heard Celina’s voice again, shouting at the man who had hunted her. He turned toward the door in time to see Celina pulled outside and away as she continued to scream and object to leaving.

“No, you can't leave him there. He is your friend,” she yelled.

“He made his choice to stand against me, and he hid you away for years,” the man said, his voice intense with anger.

“Bathe. . .?” Xavier said in confusion. He thought he heard the voice of his friend. He stretched his hand toward the door where Celina's voice had come from. Within a few seconds, his vision became clearer, and he forced himself up, walking toward the broken wall a demon had crashed through when they fought. Then he saw Marcus on the floor.

“Marcus!” Xavier rushed to his friend lying flat on the floor. He was bleeding profusely.

“Oh, God!” he exclaimed, seeing a deep wound on Marcus' temple as he turned Marcus over. “I have to get you help,” he said anxiously. Marcus' breathing was slowing down significantly.

“Where is he?” Marcus breathed.

“Who?” Xavier asked. Marcus must mean the person who took Celina away. “He's gone. He took Celina with him.”

“We have to get her back . . .” Marcus grunted.

“Don't talk, Marcus.” Xavier looked around the room for anything he could use to help his friend, but he wasn't familiar with the house. He didn’t know if there was any healing ointment. Marcus had invited him to the house to protect Celina, but Xavier had never been there before the day of the battle.

Marcus pulled him closer. He bent over with his ear toward his longtime friend.

“We have to get her back; the lives of the children depend on . . .”

“Let her go, Marcus,” Xavier pleaded. “You kept her for years. You have to let her go.”

“We can’t.” Marcus coughed. A tiny bit of blood came out of his mouth. “Take care of the children.” Marcus began to cough again.

“What children?” Xavier said, bewildered.

“The children with the Chosen traits. And my children.” Marcus pointed behind Xavier. “All three of them . . .”

Xavier looked behind him quickly. An open door led into a dark room. He looked back at his friend, about to ask why he was pointing toward the room behind him and why he had said three children. Marcus had two children, Jason and Wanda. He knew no other child, but Marcus mentioned all three of them. Immediately, he guessed the rumors that Marcus had a child with Celina were true. He knew Marcus had kept Celina away for years, but right now Xavier wasn't concerned about rumors. One of his closest friend was dying.

“And Wanda.” Marcus coughed out the words, his body convulsing.

“What about Wanda?” Xavier said.

Marcus coughed again as his breathing weakened. “Celina . . . Wanda will destroy the Chosen children. . . .” He stopped.

“What?” Xavier said. He looked confused as what Marcus meant confused him.

“Make me a vow,” Marcus said very faintly. “Protect Wanda, protect the children . . .” Marcus raised his voice with all the energy he could muster. “Vow,” Marcus said as loud as he could.

“I vow to protect Wanda,” Xavier answered quickly, even though he knew that as a Vitrain, vows were binding. “Also Sofia and Jason . . . stay with me, Marcs.” He called Marcus by his old teenage nickname, though he didn't understand the reason for the vow.

“Keep my children away from Ake...uah.” The words came out so faintly that Xavier struggled to understand it. “The curse will destroy all the Chosen.”

“Ark . . .” Xavier mumbled, trying to understand what his friend was saying. He had never heard the word “Akeuah” before, not in North America, his homeland, or in Norway, where he’d relocated.

“What curse?” Xavier asked.

But his friend was motionless.

“Marcs? Marcs!” Xavier shouted.

His friend was gone.

Xavier raised Marcus' head gently to confirm that his friend had crossed over to the other side. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he shut his eyes in anger, then he laid his friend down.

“Rest, my old friend.” Xavier spoke the words from the depths of pain. He placed his hand on Marcus' eyelids and closed them.

He got up and walked toward the wall he’d come through when he regained consciousness. Still vexed, he placed his left hand on the wall. He found his phone with his right hand and made a quick call.

“Marcus is gone,” Xavier said when the call was answered.

“What?” His partner sounded surprised. “What do you mean, gone? What happened?”

“I don't know,” Xavier said. He was still trying to manage the anger in his voice. “I was knocked unconscious; I didn't see what happened or who did it. I only heard Celina screeching. I guess that was when it happened.”

“No. Not Marcus.” 

“Marcus wants us to protect his family. That was his dying request.”

“I’m coming over.”

“It’s too late now,” Xavier answered. “But vow to keep Wanda, Jason, and Sofia safe.”

“Are you sure he is dead?”

“Yes,” Xavier replied, almost shouting the words in annoyance. “Marcus is dead. He is gone! There is nothing we can do now . . .”

Suddenly, like he had said something wrong, a loud cry came from the room Marcus pointed at. The door to the room was directly behind him. He turned at once and faced the room.

He switched the phone off, cutting his partner off mid-sentence. There was something in the room, something that hadn’t been there before when Marcus pointed toward the room. He squinted his eyes, and then an astonishing shock hit him. Marcus' body was no longer on the floor.

There was no sign of dragging or Marcus crawling. The body was just gone, leaving traces of blood on the floor like he had vanished from the spot.

An unusual sound came from the dark room opposite him. He turned and readied himself for whatever might emerge from the room. He couldn't see who or what was in there; all he knew was that it was big. It groaned in an angry, deep voice.

“Marcus?” he called. Had his friend found a way to move his body and transform?

The thing in the dark room turned and looked in Xavier's direction, its demonic eyes fixated on him. The man who came for Celina must have sent one more demon to finish them all. He had lost his Praying Méndez in the battle before he got knocked unconscious, so he brought out a Vitrian weapon. The Vitrian symbol glittered brightly in his hand, signifying the presence of a demon.

 

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VITRIAN SECRETS – THE HEALING MÉNDEZ?

 

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VITRIAN SECRETS – THE CHOSEN UNVEILED

 

 

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 29.10.2020

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Widmung:
Wanda Troms was kept away from the Vitrian lifestyle by her mother, but she needs to get the Healing Mendez to heal her little brother, Jason. Can she survive? Will the brutal Vitrian rebels release the Healing Mendez? Or is it going to be another brutal battle with demons and their magical powers? Vitrian Secrets is filled with twists.