Hellacious 1
Sly
Friday, June 13th – slip beyond the gates of Hell!
Born of hell, will he destroy the pure
heart he desires?
Blurb:
Sly
Sathariel possessed his father’s genes and, on Earth, he created all sorts of
havoc for humans, though he never took a life. His father, Satan, reserved that
power, yet, not even he could keep Sly from the arms of the pure and spiritual
woman representing the Tree of Life. She entangled him in her roots, pulled Sly
in a direction his soul dare not follow.
Waverly
Malkuth had a premonition no human should be privy to -- she witnessed her own
death. It was tearing her apart, filling her with anger and thoughts of
vengeance that went against the grain of everything she knew. Giving in to the
malevolence growing in her heart, it carried her into the arms of a man who
could only hurry her journey down the deadly path she followed.
Waverly
Malkuth hadn’t counted on wanting Sly, or enjoying his touch, the sound of his
laughter, and how good it felt when he moved inside her. Nor did she count on
feeling safe with him. How could she?
“It’s
you who kills me.” Waverly wished he had proved her wrong because she wanted
him more than she’d wanted any other man she’d taken to her bed. She thought he
could make her forget, but not him, not Sly. The pictures of her dying were not
always quite clear, but when she first laid eyes on him, Wave knew the truth.
“The pictures on the wall… it’s your eyes I see glaring red right before you
murder me.”
A
dream, or a premonition, it didn’t matter. Sly Sathariel would kill her. Every
night she spent alone in her bed, she died over and over again at his hands.
He
dumped her body unceremoniously onto the bed and jumped up. “You’re out of your
mind.”
The
vacant smile she’d confronted the world with over the last few weeks was back.
Wave felt it in the terrible twist of her lips. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?
Me being crazy?”
“I’m
not sure what kind of pictures you see or what the hell goes on in your
apartment, but I guarantee, neither me, nor anyone else, is going to kill you.”
“God
knows, I wish I could believe you.”
The
room shook violently.
“Waverly,
you… damn, do you need to be so blasphemous?”
Her
head cocked to the side. “Someone… something doesn’t like it?” Now they could
get to the point. Waverly had started to notice a month ago at the club,
whenever the brothers were there, any uttered religious phrase brought about
mini quakes and electrical disturbances. Her whole life she’d seen things
others didn’t, had hunches or forewarnings of local disasters that came true.
Until she first spied the three men, she’d never had the premonition of her own
death -- with moving pictures and all the blood and gore.
“No,
someone doesn’t like it.”
“You?”
“Personally,
sweetheart, I don’t give a shit who you need to call on as long as you say Sly
when I’m fucking you.”
“Maybe
you won’t be fucking me.”
“Get
dressed; we’re going to your place.” He grabbed his slacks and shirt from the
floor. “Hell knows, this bullshit is going to stop.”
“The
premonitions, I’ve always known about… there are evil things in this world.”
He
spun toward her. “What do you mean?”
She
watched him stand deathly still. “You… you’re evil. I think you’re the devil.”
“No,
I mean what premonitions?”
“Fires,
earthquakes, I know when people are going to die.” She continued to stare at
Sly. “Until something made me enter that damn club where I saw you and your
brothers, I’d never seen my own death.”
“Shit.
Not now.” He peered around the room as if he looked for someone.
The
bed rocked and rolled, walls pulsed with life. “Goddamn it, Sly, what is going
on?”
“Will
you please trust me?” He gazed at her, took in every inch of her body as she
sat in the middle of the mattress. “I don’t want to leave you, but I have no
choice.”
“This
can’t be happening.”
“Use
my computer, password is satanssecondborn, look up Malkuth and every single
thing you can find on it.”
“My
name?” Waverly pulled the covers around her knowing they would afford no protection
from whatever rattled the building. “Sly, don’t leave me, please!”
“I’m
sorry.” The floor split wide-open, fire leaped around the walls, danced over
the glass, and a forked tail flicked from the flames touching the ceiling. “You
won’t be able to leave, but, I promise, Waverly, you’ll be safe here.” The tail
dropped down, wrapped around Sly’s bare waist, and snatched him into the
breach.
“Jesus!
God is good, God is great…” Waverly chanted and everything stopped moving; the
bed, walls, and the heat from the flames dissipated. Sly’s bedroom reverted to
the way it was before the floor opened up and swallowed him. It was then
Waverly figured out the odd markings on the carpet. “Holy fuck, it’s a
pentagram.” Nothing she’d ever witnessed prepared her for this, yet somehow she
understood; her life was irrevocably intertwined with Sly’s. “Who, what
the hell are you, Sly Sathariel?
J Hali Steele
Growl and roar-it’s okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele
