Page 52 of Demons In My Head: Exposing the Exiled
I stole one more glance at her. Magnetic. That's what she was. "I'll be seeing you soon, my sexy, powerful, bad witch," I whispered devotedly before I pulled back out of the mind I’d invaded, and my own surroundings came back into focus.
Who needed lackeys when you could just do everything yourself, the correct way? I turned my attention to the maps spread out across my desk. I flipped through them until I found the one I needed. Besmet, the demon realm, was our next battleground. It was a dangerous place, filled with treachery and deceit. But it was also a place of power. A place where I could solidify my control, where I could rise above the ashes of my enemies and claim my rightful throne.
I traced the lines of the map, my fingers lingering on the key locations. I'd been to Besmet a few times in the past, with Asrael. It was a perfect place, the perfect place for someone like me to run. Those were endgame goals, though. It appeared as though, perhaps, that timeline was getting accelerated.
I focused on the final piece of my plan: my experiments, my enhancements. I’d turned my blood into a gas, and now I was able to simply reach out in mind and control people who were susceptible to my persuasion. I needed to continue my work, to harness my power to the fullest. That's what Asrael alwayspreached and taught me, and I fucking listened. I listened to every word he had to say because he was the most powerful being, whether in the human or demon realm.
I strode over to my laboratory, the scent of chemicals and dark magic filling the air. I could feel the power pulsating within me, the darkness calling out to me. It was a dangerous path, a road paved with blood and betrayal, but I was willing to walk it. I was willing to do whatever it took to achieve my goals.
As I began my work, the sounds of my compound echoing around me, I couldn't help but smile—a cold, calculating smile that promised pain, suffering, and ultimately, victory. Palmer and her allies thought they had won, thought they had escaped my grasp. But they were wrong—dead wrong.
And soon, they would pay the price for their defiance.
Chapter twelve
Jasper
The moment my feet touched the ash-laced soil of Besmet, something ancient inside me howled awake. Thankfully, I’d been able to open the portal, since I’d never been banished. Clearly, Asrael hadn’t anticipated the ghost of a demon being able to pull that one off.
I staggered, the air punching into my lungs like cold steel, though I didn’t breathe, not really. Ghosts didn’t need oxygen, but memory had a way of resurrecting sensation. That and portal jumping could cause dizziness and nausea on its own; combine that with the absolute psychological bitch slap of returning to this place, yeah, I was staggering, alright. The smell of scorched earth, blood long-since dried, and magic left to rot wrapped around me like a noose.
“Jas?” Palmer’s voice cut through the static in my mind, but I couldn’t look at her. Not yet. I did hold my hand out to her, though. If I was feeling the effects of the jump, I had no doubt she was feeling worse, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from where they'd locked on the horizon, where spires once stood tall, and where the pyres were lit.
I remembered the sound of chains. The way the crowd screamed for blood. My name echoing in accusation and love. The screams that held love were easily drowned out by the noise. But I remembered their faces. Shattered. Destroyed.
“I thought this place would feel smaller,” I said, voice low, raw. “But it’s like it grew in my absence. Like it fed on my death.”
Palmer didn’t flinch. She just stepped closer, close enough that her warmth skimmed my skin. “We’re not here for the ghosts,” she said with understanding and motivation. “We’re here to find the living.”
I almost told her they were one and the same.
Each step forward was a battle between the past and the present, but I kept moving. For her. For them. And for me.
I felt Palmer's fingers tighten around mine as we started moving through the twisted landscape of my past. Every shadow held a memory, and every breeze carried whispers of what was. But she was right, we weren't here for ghosts. We were here for my brothers.
"They're close," I murmured, feeling the pull of familiar energy. "The Exiled always did have a way of making their presence known."
An explosion rocked the ground beneath us as if to prove my point. Palmer stumbled, but I kept her steady, my spectral form anchoring her.
I tugged Palmer in the direction of the capital, keeping us both in spirit form as we moved through the desolate landscape. The familiar path to Naryian stretched before us, a twisted reminder of the countless journeys to the capital I'd made in my previous life.
"It’ll take us about an hour to get there," I told her, my voice carrying on the sulfuric breeze. "Assuming we don't run into any issues."
Palmer's eyes darted around, taking in the sharp rock formations and pools of bubbling liquid that dotted the terrain. "This place is... intense."
I couldn't help but laugh. "That's one way to put it. Welcome to Hell's front porch. Though, not all of it is quite this… dramatic. There are some really beautiful places. I'll have to show you sometime." I smiled at her, wondering how I'd ended up here. In this exact moment, with this amazing woman. My death was the catalyst for a lot of shit, but this? Her? That made it all worth it.
We continued forward, our spectral forms passing through the occasional thorny vegetation that sprouted from the cracked ground. The night sky above was painted in shades of deep purple and blood red. Lightning occasionally split the clouds, but no rain ever fell here. Not anymore.
"Watch your step," I warned as we approached a particularly nasty-looking pool of magma. "Even in spirit form, that stuff will fuck you up."
A flash of white caught my eye, and I stopped short. An arctic fox darted across our path, its pristine fur a stark contrast to the darkness around us. The creature paused, intelligent eyes meeting mine for just a moment before it disappeared into the shadows.
"That was... unexpected," Palmer said, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"Nothing in Besmet is what it seems," I replied, though the fox's presence nagged at something in the back of my mind. A memory, perhaps, but it slipped away before I could grasp it. "Come on, we need to keep moving."
The tall castle of Naryian began to materialize through the haze ahead of us, its obsidian surfaces reflecting the lightning that danced across the sky. My chest tightened at the sight. How many times had I walked this path, thinking I was heading home? How many times had I been wrong?
