This is a portal fantasy series with mythological roots and action-adventure tendencies. You can search through all my work on my website.
In the ashes of her past, she will rise up, and her death will save us all.
Lizzie ran from her past for ten years, zigzagging across the United States every few months, trying to outlast the prophesy that an oracle gave to her when she was just sixteen years old.
But nobody can run from their destiny forever.
After watching her friend brutally gunned down by a group of ruthless demons, she had no choice but to protect the woman’s child, and there was only one place where Lizzie knew the girl would be safe.
Bronard, Missouri.
Home.
She stayed away to protect her parents, but the girl needed mystical protection.
Her parents had taken in magical strays their whole lives, including Lizzie. If anyone could save the poor child’s life, it would be her mother and father.
But will returning to her home doom Lizzie even as she works to save the child she has vowed to defend?
A heaving breath brought me back to consciousness. Pain rippled through my body, excruciating pain in every joint of every limb. I didn’t know what I expected when I opened my eyes, but it wasn’t hanging in a freezer surrounded by slabs of meat. A cursory look around the room, and I counted three other demon bodies swinging between the carcasses of cows and pigs.
Mostly dead, my ass. I was half blue, and my chest burned like it was on fire.
I swung myself up and grabbed onto the hook that held my legs. I kicked my feet as hard as I could, and my legs fell free…and then I plummeted to the riveted metal floor with a clatter. I reached into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out the switchblade, scooting myself into a corner to wait for the other demons to enter the room. When they didn’t come, I slid up the back wall, trying desperately to catch my breath. Every inhale sent cold air into my lungs that cut like tiny needles in my chest.
Veronica. If I was here, then so was she. I wouldn’t let her become feed for voracious demons. When I finally found her in the far end of the room, I choked on my tears. My body was so frozen that they wouldn’t fall from my eyes. There was no light in the little girl’s dead eyes as they stared out at me, and when I pulled her off the meat hook, she didn’t give or shift her weight. Truly, there was nothing left of her except for the flesh sack her soul once inhabited.
She would not be a meal for demons. I wrapped her arms tightly around me, struggling with her uneven weight, and moved to the door. It clicked open for me, and I slid out into the warmth of the factory.
I expected to see dozens of demons, but instead found a bustling factory of humans, going about their work as if they didn’t know there had been a huge battle there. They were at best ignorant to the comings and goings of the factory at night, but I suspected they were sympathizers—or worse, active worshippers of the demons. There were plenty that worshipped demons as gods, and the tiny “miracles” that demons could perform spread to the enfeebled and pathetic, those that had no other choices—and those that chose to believe the half-truths and worship false gods.
Angels were bound in some way to the truth, as were gods, in another way, but Kimberly had explained to me that demons held no such standards. They would promise anything to escape Hell and roam the earth again, and the easiest way was to convince poor suckers that they could get ahead by summoning the demonkind. Of course, it never worked out well for those humans in the end. Either they were mauled as fuel for the demons, hunted for sport, or abandoned with nothing except the knowledge of the depths of their depravity.
I hugged the walls of the factory on my way to the door and into the alley behind the meat packing plant. I shuffled into an alcove and pushed Veronica’s face away from me. She was cold and blue, with vacant eyes.
“Please don’t collect trash today,” I whispered to myself as I hid Veronica’s body underneath a pile of trash bags and slinked out onto the street.
I was stuck in Prague. I needed to contact Kimberly or Zachary—yes, maybe if I could find a phone, I could make an international collect call. It took me thirty minutes of wandering before I found a phone booth, but when I went to punch in Kimberly’s number, I realized that I had never memorized it, and no amount of staring blankly at the receiver would change that. When a middle-aged woman tapped on the door after waiting for several minutes, I ceded the booth to her and wandered some more, hoping to find a library with an internet connection.
Luckily, Prague was a tourist city with plenty of maps in English, and helpful sorts who sent me in the right direction of a library a couple of miles away. When I arrived, the sliding doors opened, and I was met by a warm blast of welcome heat. I must have looked quite a sight as I ambled to the information desk. The young man looking up from his computer couldn’t hide the look of horror on his face.
“Jak vám mohu pomoci?” he said. The plaque on his desk said Robert Williams on it.
“I know this is very American of me, but do you speak English, Robert?”
He frowned and then spoke in a thick accent. “Of course. How may I help you?”
“I seem to have lost my friend. We went out last night, and she didn’t come back to our flat. I need to use your computer to see if she sent me an email or anything that shows where she might be.”
Robert’s expression turned from confusion to concern. “Of course, right this way. Do I need to call the constable?”
I shook my head. “I’ve already spoken to them, but I can’t just sit around waiting for her to call.” He pulled out a chair so that I could sit. “Thank you so much.”
He leaned over and typed something onto the keyboard, and the language turned from Czech to English. “There you go. Let me know if you need anything.”
I thanked him, and he left. Kimberly was well-known for not being online in any form, but Zachary owned a house and lived in a nice neighborhood with a man named Nolan. He was my best bet to finding Kimberly, and since I hadn’t seen his dead body in the meat locker, there was a good chance he was still alive.
It took some time to search through public records, but eventually, I found an announcement that a Zachary and Nolan Nycz had traveled to Barcelona to get married in a civil ceremony. The house was held jointly by both of them, and soon enough, I had a phone number. I ran back into the street after thanking Robert and back to the phone booth.
I pressed in the number to call collect, dialed, and when the message to identify myself came up, I took a breath and waited for the beep. When it came, I spat out as quickly as possible. “I’m alive. Meat packing plant. Now.”
I barely got the words out before the beep, and my chest tightened. What if they weren’t home? What if Zachary never went home? What if he’s in the hospital? What if this was all for nothing?
I would have to find somewhere nice to bury Veronica and then move on with my life. No, I couldn’t think like that. I had to believe that miracles could happen because one had just happened to me. I was alive, something that I hadn’t fully appreciated until now. My bones hurt, and my body ached, but I was alive. I could smell the air and feel it filling my lungs.
That was something to celebrate. Even if the task I agreed to felt impossible, I was going to take it one moment at a time, and now, all I had to do was return to the meat packing plant and wait for Kimberly to find me.
This is a portal fantasy series with mythological roots and action-adventure tendencies. You can search through all my work on my website.