-+Requiem+-

-+Chapter One+-

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The clicking of claws on the hard wood floor caught my attention long before the growling had started. It was late at night and the only light on was the one on my bedside table. I tried not to look towards where the sound was coming from because if I did I might just have nightmares about what I saw down there.

They were hellhounds, summoned by my Father. He had changed over these past few years. He had once been a loving and caring man but now it was as though his family didn’t even exist.

No, that wasn’t right. We existed; he just didn’t want us to. It was me in particular that he had the problem with. I don’t know why but maybe I just didn’t fit his perfect image of what a son was supposed to be like. I wasn’t a genius, though I wasn’t stupid either, and I had almost no athletic abilities to speak of once so ever.

He didn’t like the cloths I wore or the music I listened to and I would even say ‘the people I hung out with’ only I didn’t really hang out with anyone anymore. There wasn’t anyone in this town I particularly liked and no one particularly liked me either. It didn’t matter though because I had enough to deal with due to my overburdening Father.

Our family life was in shambles. My mom could barely cope with all the changes he had gone through and had started working again as a result of it. Father had recently lost his job as manager of a housing development company and was now in a worse mood than ever before. None of us could even speak to him without invoking his wrath.

Scarlet, my little brother wouldn’t even go near him and a boy that young shouldn’t have to be afraid of his own father, it just wasn’t right. I’d never forgive him for that, for terrorizing Scarlet. He was a good kid and didn’t deserve such treatment from him.

None of us did but I had at least hoped to save Scarlet from this pain. Father made that impossible though. Everything we did was watched and whenever we screwed up he’d be right there to correct us for it.

His latest craze was accusing me of molesting my little brother. I had done no such thing, and would never even think of doing such a thing to him, but apparently that didn’t matter. No matter what I or anyone else said to him he was convinced that I had done it and had even tried to separate us because of it.

It didn’t work though and that was his fault as well. For as afraid that Scarlet was of Father he was even more afraid of sleeping in the dark with those hellhounds watching him.

Every night, after Mom went to sleep and Father locked himself in his study, doing whatever it was he did in there; Scarlet would sneak into my room and crawl into bed with me. It was this action that had spurred these latest accusations from my Father but I didn’t care, or at least I pretended not to for Scarlet’s sake. He was just a child, really, and I wanted to protect him from the things that went ‘bump’ in the night, especially when those things turned out to be real.

These hellhounds, or whatever they actually were, were something my father had summoned himself. There was this book he had, this big, leather-bound monstrosity that had Celtic knots all over it and a silver pentagram on the front. I think it was a magic book and whatever spell he had used from it had obviously worked.

Before the hellhounds I hadn’t believed in magic, but once it’s staring you right in the face, fangs bared in a constant snarl, it was impossible to ignore. Magic was real and I wished to whatever gods there were that it wasn’t. I hated those hellhounds.

I hated them and I hated the fear that came with them. The fear that they’d hurt me or Scarlet, the fear that my Father was crazy, and the fear that if he could summon hellhounds so soon after reading a book that he could summon something even worse once he was finished with it. I was afraid that whatever this next thing was, it would kill us all.

The pattering of feet running down the hallway distracted me from my thoughts and I watched the door, waiting for Scarlet to come in. The hellhounds seemed to like him more, for whatever reason, and started to quiet down as soon as they heard him coming. Their growls turned into whimpers and whines that were really just as disconcerting as their growls, but thankfully not as menacing.

A moment later Scarlet peeked his head into the room and looked at me for a moment before slipping inside and shutting the door behind him. His black hair spilled over his shoulder and covered the designer logo on his blue pajamas, reminding me of the time when he had still worn footies. He had been so cute back then. He still was, but now he was growing up, maybe too fast because of Father. It was just another reason to hate the man for all that he’s done.

I lifted up the sheets as Scarlet got closer and laid them over him as he slipped into bed with me. His arms automatically went around my waist and I petted his hair as he snuggled into my chest, pushing my own out of the way so it wouldn’t fall on him.

The whining and growling continued and after a moment and I reached over to turn the stereo in order to drown them out. Scarlet and I had gotten used to sleeping with it on ever since the growling had started and I didn’t know if we’d ever be able to sleep without it again.

Leaving the light on, I pulled the covers over our heads and wrapped my arms back around Scarlet. I wouldn’t let anything happen to him, not if I could help it, and since we couldn’t leave this house I’d make him feel as safe as I could. I loved him and not even my Father’s insanity would convince me to give him up.

Resting my head on top of his I listened to the music and Scarlet’s even breathing as I tried to ignore the demonic sounds coming from all around us.

Later that night I awoke to the sound of gun shots being fired and turned off the music to hear what was going on. Scarlet didn’t awaken, having always been a heavy sleeper, and at the moment I was glad that he didn’t. If Father was doing something crazy again then I didn’t want him to know about it. He was afraid enough as it was.

Listening intently I heard Mom yelling from downstairs and noticed that the hellhounds were gone. What were they doing? I didn’t want to know but I had to find out. I had to find out in case it was something I needed to protect Scarlet from. I couldn’t just sit here, waiting in my room for something to happen. I needed to be prepared.

Slowly I worked my way out of Scarlet’s grasp, having had to do so many times before, and slipped out of bed without waking him. I paused to make sure the blankets were covering him before I slowly crept over to my door and peeked down the hallway.

There were lights on downstairs and Mom was still yelling but other than that I couldn’t tell what was going on. Carefully I snuck out and shut the door behind me, pulling up my pant leg as the hem of it fell over the back of my foot. I didn’t want to trip but it’s not like it did me any good.

Creeping downstairs I stopped once I could see my parents and eyed the shotgun my Father was holding with unease. Glancing out the open front door I noticed the hellhounds running around in the yard, howling, and began listening in on the conversation just to see what had happened.

"Who? Tell me, Morfield, just who is out there?" Mom motioned towards the yard where the hellhounds were still searching. So he had thought someone was out there then? That didn’t bode well for the rest of us. If he was getting paranoid about people watching him then he’d be even more strict and accusatory.

"No one, that's who!" I saw him clench his fists and I started getting nervous. He had never hit Mom before but with the way he was acting now anything was possible. The only thing that scared me even more than the hellhounds and magic was that Father would one day do something violent and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Father muttered to himself and slammed the door shut, causing me to jump. I bumped against the banister and froze when I saw his eyes on me. I held my breath, waiting, and Mom cleared her throat before stepping between us.

“Is something the matter, Crimson, dear?” I could tell how nervous she was by the way she fidgeted with her powder blue nightgown and I knew I needed to get away from there as soon as possible.

“Just wondering what the commotion was. I’m going to go back to bed now.” My grip on the banister tightened as my father’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. I didn’t know what he was thinking but I was certain that I didn’t want to know. I had to get out of there, now.

“Alright dear, goodnight.” I muttered a reply and waited until I was out of view before I started running. Whatever my father was planning on accusing me of now it wouldn’t be good and I was afraid that he’d come up after me only to find Scarlet in my bed again. I didn’t know what he’d do to me then.

Normally it’d sound crazy but under the circumstances I wouldn’t be all that surprised if father tried to kill me. He really wasn’t like the father I used to know and there’s no telling what he might do.

Once inside my room I closed my eyes and leaned back against the door, trying not to let it show just how badly he had gotten to me. I would not show fear, not in front of Scarlet; it would only make him more afraid than he already was. He didn’t need that right now, not ever.

“Crim?” I opened my eyes to see Scarlet blinking at me tiredly and forced myself to relax. Going back over to the bed I brushed the hair out of his eyes and smiled at him. He shouldn’t have to deal with this.

“Bathroom.” I explained and started crawling back into bed with him. I was about half way over him when the door flew open and made the both of us jump.

There, standing in the doorway, was our father and he looked furious. I froze, not knowing what to do, but as he started coming closer I did the only thing I could do; I got up and stood in front of Scarlet. I was no match for my father but I wouldn’t let him hurt Scarlet, not as long as I was still standing.

Mother came in the room after him, looking just as scared as I felt and her eyes widened as she saw both Scarlet and I together. She didn’t share father’s belief that I was molesting him but she hadn’t been able to convince him otherwise either.

“Morfield—” He threw up his hand, cutting her off and with the look on his face I knew she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

“Enough! This—this sick depravity has gone on long enough. I won’t have it! I won’t!” There was a crazed gleam in his eyes and I couldn’t tear myself away from them. Scarlet shifted and backed away behind me and I tried to locate where he was without moving. The first and foremost thought on my mind was that I had to protect him.

I needn’t have worried about that, though, for when he finally moved it was only me he was going for. Grabbing my hair he yanked on it and used it to pull me out of the room. I tried to get away from him but his grip on my hair was so tight that it was making my eyes water and it was becoming hard to see. Mother followed behind us, yelling at father but it did nothing to stop him or slow him down.

His mind was set on something and whatever that something was it was going to happen whether anyone liked it or not.

I nearly stumbled several times on the stairs but each time I did he’d yank up on my hair until I was forced to concentrate more on my footing rather that getting away. I heard Scarlet cry out in the background but he was easily ignored. Silently I hoped that Mother would have the sense to shut him up. I didn’t want him getting hurt.

Once we were down the stairs he turned towards the kitchen at first and then towards his office. I thought we were going to go there but instead he dragged me over to the basement door. For some reason that scared me more than going to his office did and I renewed my struggle to get free from him.

Yanking the door opened he grew frustrated with my struggling and dragged me over to the entrance before shoving me down the stairs, finally letting my hair go only to let me fall. My eyes widened and I did the best to protect my head but that did nothing to save the rest of me from the rough concrete. When I hit the floor the wind was knocked out of me and I panicked as I desperately tried to breathe.

Father bellowed at mother and shut her out of the room, locking the dead bolt behind him before coming down the stairs. I was now locked in the basement with my crazy father who could very well be trying to kill me. I no longer knew if the wind was still knocked out of me or if I was now hyperventilating.

There was pain in my head and all up and down my arms. Sitting up I could see the blood starting to flow from the places where my skin had rubbed off on the concrete and I turned back just in time to see a candle holder being swung at my head.

When I came to my head was throbbing and I had no idea how much time had passed. I could hear my father’s voice chanting something in the background and I stayed where I was, lying still, and peeked out from beneath my eyelashes.

Father was standing in the middle of the room and an elaborate design was drawn out in chalk beneath him. He was standing in a triangle, dressed in a strange robe with a pentagram on the front of it, and before him was a large circle with several more pentagrams both inside and outside of it. On the inside of a circle was also a giant coiling snake and the whole thing was set in different colors. The only thing that lit the room were the candles places in the outside pentagrams.

"For thou art conjured by the name of the LIVING and TRUE GOD, HELIOREN, wherefore fulfill thou my commands, and persist thou therein unto the end, and according unto mine interest, visibly and affably speaking unto me with a voice clear and intelligible without any ambiguity(1)." I had no idea what he was going on about but with a growing sense of dread I was beginning to think that this was another spell. A spell like the one that summoned the hell hounds here.

The hellhound started howling upstairs as magic crackled in the air and the fear that I had was starting to become true. The temperature in the room started plummeting and I had to stop myself from shivering least I give myself away. I didn’t know what my father was planning but it would probably best if I kept pretending that I was unconscious.

Father continued chanting more words and the magic in the air was becoming heavier and it was getting hard to breathe. There was something wrong about this magic. Not just that it probably belong to something I never wanted to meet, but it was like it was trying to attack me, to invade me. I could feel it pressing in against me from all angles, forcing its way inside and filling my lungs with its presence.

For a moment I started choking but it passed, instead moving on to form a ball at the pit of my stomach, invading every place it could. It hurt. It hurt so much and as the magic got thicker so too did the pain increase until I just couldn’t take it anymore.

Opening my eyes I started looking for a way to stop it but it was all too late now. It was already inside me and I swear it wanted to tear me apart; it was certainly doing its best to try and do so. Then, suddenly, the dark magic started forcing its way into my thoughts, tearing my mind open like a flimsy book.

I could no longer handle this pain. I wanted it to stop but it was all too much and I could no longer think. Opening my mouth I did the only thing I could do; I started to scream.

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Author’s Note: Thanks to those who have stuck with me during the course of this story and through all of the edits and rewriting crap I’ve made you deal with.

(1): Taken from The Lesser Key of Solomon and Ars Goetica summaries on the site called Sacred Texts. Each belong to their respective authors/translators/whatever and I had nothing to do with them nor do I make any money from them. And look, I even made a bibliography to show that the text was quoted (albeit improperly because it’s a freaking original story, not a research paper!).

Hare, John B., ed. "The Lesser Key of Solomon." Sacred Texts. 2008. 6 June 2008 .