The Legend of the Spectral Seal
Here Be Monsters
by Yaksha (Zach_briggs91@msn.com)
Sometimes, the greatest of changes goes wholly unnoticed for some time; apocalypse may come, not with a procession of trumpets and the ride of four horsemen, but with the simple descent into human depravity. For want of a page, the world may be lost.
It began with a rather unassuming book, swaddled in black velvet. There was no title, no mention of an author. Instead, on the flesh-colored cover, three words had been crudely gashed into the surface: “Hic Daemonos Nascuntur.” It had been placed in the deepest corners of a bookstore, hidden from the world. Perhaps, had it stayed hidden, things could’ve been different.
Samantha was new to town, and she had decided to find out what sorts of things there were to do. She had just moved to North Carolina with three of her best friends, deciding that she had seen enough of her parents over the last 20 years, finally ready to let herself go. They’d been lucky enough to find a townhouse for sale, managing between the four of them to scrounge together just enough to pay for a year. Now, Samantha was wandering through the sweltering heat, almost drenched in sweat already. For fuck’s sake, it’s been 20 minutes and I’m dying of thirst! Why does it have to be so HOT?
Fanning herself with her hand, Samantha spotted a building nearby, and stared for a moment. Her body began to shiver despite the heat, and she could feel herself being drawn towards it. For some reason, she had to go inside and look. A dreamy smile came across her face as she stepped towards it, only barely registering the name of the shop: “Harlequin Books.”
The door opened, and she reeled from the freezing air that came from it, only realizing after a moment that a man was walking out, carrying a bag and waving at someone inside. He looked to be about thirty, and his shaggy black hair was covered by a blue ballcap.
Before the doorway closed, Samantha stuck her hand out, grabbing it and pulling it open. The man leaving had piqued her curiosity, and she couldn’t have stopped herself if she wanted to now. The interior of the store was cool, surely no warmer than seventy degrees, and a surprisingly young man could be seen behind the counter, turning pages in a book and clicking his tongue every few minutes. He couldn’t have been any older than Samantha herself, and his hair was stark white, trailing down to his neck and covering his eyes as he examined the book.
Samantha grew close, prepared to clear her throat and get this man’s attention, before he spoke almost absentmindedly, never raising his glance from the pages. “I’ll be closing in about half an hour. If you need a book, I’ll be with you in a second.” Finally, his head rose, revealing a pair of icy blue eyes, and a distant smile. “You must be new to town; around here, there’s no one that I don’t know.”
Samantha swallowed heavily, feeling as if, somehow, this man could see through her, see her very spirit. “Y-yeah…I’m Samantha. I moved here with my three friends. It’s very interesting…”
The man rose from his stool, exuding a lithe grace as he spoke in a cool, almost emotionless voice. “My name is Samuel, but everyone in this town is so friendly, you can just call me Sam. Now…this is a library, so why don’t we find you a book?”
Samantha stared for a minute, before nodding. “I guess you can call me Sam, too.” She gave a nervous giggle, trying to halt the shaking in her legs as she followed after the strange storeowner. “I mostly just came in to escape the heat.”
”Hmhm…yes, it IS hot around here, isn’t it? Granted, I’ve known hotter places, but I’m glad that there’s a town pool, nonetheless. In fact, that’s probably where I’ll be going after I close up here.” He seemed to disappear behind a bookcase, humming softly to himself as he ran his fingers over the spines of the books. “Is there anything you might be interested in?”
”Just get me something good.” She paused, before peeking around the corner and speaking hopefully. “You did say there was a pool, right? That’s great! Me and my friends should totally come down there later.” Her own fingers brushed across the bookcase as she approached him, trying to get a look over his shoulder.
He turned slowly, smiling at Samantha and thrusting a book in her direction. She raised her hands reflexively, grabbing onto the edges, and feeling her hands go numb. She paused for a moment, stunned, before Samuel chuckled and walked towards the counter. “That might work for you.”
She walked after him, shivering again as she tried to find some sort of name on the book. It seemed to be covered in black cloth, and as she pulled it away, the scent of sandalwood almost assaulted her senses. “Wh-what is it? What’s it say?” Some small voice in her head seemed to be screaming to her, telling her to drop the book and run. She was almost prepared to, even turning halfway to the door before his voice rang out again. Her head snapped back towards him, and she swallowed a cry of pain as she brushed the amber hair from her face. “It says, ‘Here, demons are born’. I believe it’s a book about the origins of the devil.”
Samantha paused. Her parents had been devout Christians, and her parents constantly forcing religion on her had turned her decidedly away from the Church of God. Even now, her rebellious streak was telling her to try the book, if only to remind herself she was truly free, too. “How much?”
”Samantha, what sort of neighbor would I be if I charged you for a book the very day you come here? No, no; you’re free to take that and go. Consider it my welcoming gift.”
Samantha nodded politely, feeling herself shiver one more time and steeling herself for the heat as she stepped outside, shocked to see the sun setting, and the air surprisingly cool now. How long was I in there? She looked back, saw Samuel raise a hand lazily and wiggle the fingers, before fishing a key from his pocket and closing the door behind him. She shuddered once more, and tried to ignore the sense of doom. Had she listened, she may have saved herself.
Samantha returned home, surprised to find all of her friends huddled around the television. As the door closed, one girl, a busty blonde with white streaks, looked up, giving a squeal and leaping off the couch to pull her into a hug. “Samantha, there you are! We were about to get in the car and start looking for you we were so worried! So, spill. Where were you?”
Samantha paused for a minute, trying to draw a name for this woman, trying to remember who she was. She nearly screamed as she heard a voice in her head; if it had any traces of humanity, it was nothing but the worst. Slut, bitch, whore. That’s her name, Samantha: the blonde girl’s Slut, the Brunette’s Bitch, and the Redhead’s Whore. After all, that’s all a girl is and all they should be. Say it after me, now; Slut. Bitch. Whore.
She shook her head, giving a cool smile before returning the hug. “Melanie. I’m fine. I just went for a walk. I stopped by the library, met one of our neighbors. We talked for a bit, and get this, he said there’s a pool!”
Melanie paused for a minute, before clapping happily and bouncing on her heels. Samantha’s eyes were drawn to her chest, and for the first time she could remember, she was jealous of Melanie’s breasts. Their rhythmic bouncing was exhilarating, and she was clutched by an urge to grab them, to feel her soft warm flesh between her hands. She had never thought of herself as a lesbian, but for some reason she couldn’t help but hate Melanie for her beauty. “A pool! That’ll be great! It was so hot today, I had to take off my bra!”
Samantha bit her lip, pulling away and trying to smile again. “Yeah, it left me feeling kinda tired. I think I’m gonna go upstairs and try to sleep.” She rushed past Melanie before she could respond, clutching the mysterious demon tome in her hands so hard her knuckles grew white, and bounding up the stairs to the bedrooms quickly. Her heart was beating as if she had run a marathon, and she couldn’t wait to be alone to read her book.
She slunk into a room, shutting the door behind her and sitting behind it, cracking the book and giving a soft cry as she felt the pages. They were as warm as her hands, and seemed almost organic; the pages pulsed slowly, as if it were alive. She ran a finger over the page, her eye drawn to a small lump in it. She reached inside slowly, her fingers brushing against cold metal, and seemed to black out for a moment before it fell to the ground. Its glint in the light was pure gold, and she felt her breath stop as she stared at it.
She tried to find the page it had been on, hoping to see some sort of history for it. Instead, in large black letters, underlined in red, she found words that struck her off guard. “If summoned, a demon will grant any three requests for the one who invoked their name.” She scanned over it, feeling herself grow bolder with each moment. The incantation seemed simple, and she wouldn’t need more than a simple marker to do it. She could have anything, if this was true.
She reached numbly into a pocket, looking for a pen, and pricking her finger. As her finger flew to her lips, she stopped herself just before closing her lips around them. If ink could summon a demon, what sort of thing could blood do for her? She rose slowly, glancing around the room as if mesmerized, finally spotting a sharp edge on the medallion that had dropped from the book. She grabbed it, feeling her mind slip away again as she stabbed her thumb, and began to squeeze it hard, several drops falling to the ground and bubbling up.
She felt her heart race, and her hand flew to the doorknob as she tried to step back. Whatever she’d done, she’d made a mistake, and she had to get away before it was too late. She opened her mouth, hoping to cry for her friends downstairs, only to find it drowned out by a single word: “Yaksha.” The moment the word left her lips, she felt soothing warmth wash over her, and all thoughts of fleeing left her head.
The shadows of the room surged forth, gathering where her blood was shed, and quickly forming into a figure of shifting darkness, chuckling coolly as he approached her. His voice was like liquid sin, as it reached her ears. “Hello, Whore.” And that was when Samantha realized it; that was her name. It was right that it should be so. She was a whore, and this was a good thing. This man had helped her realize it, and it was only right that she repay him, the only way she knew how. She stuck her chest out as she strutted towards him, her voice a soft purr. “Hi, sweetie…”
Samuel sat outside of Harlequin books, running his fingers over the page of a book, seeming to pulse like a heartbeat and chuckling softly as he spoke. “Another satisfied customer…” He threw the page over his shoulder, giving a short, barking laugh before closing his eyes, reciting the words on the page with a sneer. “Warning: Never give a demon any personal belongings. They are incredibly powerful, and can easily use the items to bend those who invoke their presence to their will.”