Laurent and the Beast (Kings of Hell MC 1)

And then it came. The curtains parted with a whiff of air so hot and dry it could have come from an open fire, forcing Laurent to close his eyes and lean his head down as the scorch wove its way into his nose. His skin stung from the heat, but when he looked back, the fireplace was completely extinguished, as if the single blow of air made the buzzing flames die.

Where did it come from then if not from the fireplace?

Laurent looked up and stepped back with a yelp, holding out his weapon, but the figure opposite him did the same. Only then he realized he was staring into a mirror. His reflection was covered in blood beyond recognition, but even with the fear twisting up Laurent’s insides, he was shocked by the clarity of the image. He hadn’t seen this well since he was a child.

He stared into his own brown eyes that so often lately were only a blur. Tears left streaks on his blood-streaked face, and he wasn’t sure why he was crying, too overwhelmed to assess it.

Was the mirror dark magic, or a brilliant new invention that could be used instead of spectacles? Or was the clarity simply his mind playing tricks on him? Because right before his eyes, the mirror image began to darken, as if the surface had soot covering it from the inside.

Laurent couldn’t move, frozen in place as the mirror became black as tar, only to spill over like molasses from a pot. The thick goo drizzled down the wooden wall and into a puddle that started suddenly boiling. Laurent stepped back, still too shocked to do much but squeeze his hand on the scissors as the substance rose tall, taller than him and formed a distinctly human-like shape.

Was his mind already playing tricks on him? Was he descending into madness? Or was this Fane’s evil soul coming back from beyond the grave to finish what the body couldn’t?

“Please leave me be,” Laurent whimpered, taking a few more steps back when the tar on the figure seemed to stiffen, rapidly drying. He cried out again when small cracks began to appear on the monstrous figure, and whatever was under the black ‘skin’ glowed red like molten iron.

Laurent dashed for the door, but when he grabbed the handle, it burned him, as if the flames of hell burned right behind the door.

This was it. He’d be suffering eternal damnation for his crime.

When the figure spoke behind his back, its voice shook him to the core. Raw and oddly sexless, like the screech of iron against rough wood. “Face me, Laurent.”

Laurent was afraid to look back, afraid to face the unknown creature whose sheer presence caused his skin to burn, but there was no other way out, and he slowly turned around.

It had a towering presence, a giant among men and yet oddly slender, with legs that were more like the paws of a dog than human feet and a pair of long spiraled horns growing from the sides of its head. With burning white eyes, it watched Laurent.

Laurent leaned his back against the door that offered no escape, and tears once again spilled down his face. “He was going to force himself on me, and then kill me. I had the right to fight back!” Every time he breathed in, the scent of burning wood and sulphur overpowered the smell of rot and flowers.

“I know,” the creature said in the same monotone voice. It stepped forward, and Laurent winced, watching the thick claws on the three large toes drag over the floor, leaving behind smoke originating where its paws had stood. “He was a greedy man. But now he’s dead, and you are in need of my intervention.”

Laurent swallowed, looking up into the eyes of a creature he could see with perfect clarity. “I am? Can you make all of this go away?” He pointed around the room.

The creature smiled, or at least its charred mouth curved into a grimace resembling a smile. “I can take this responsibility off your shoulders. I can take you to a place where you will be able to live the way you wish, and where this man’s death will not send hounds after you.”

Laurent’s mind worked with the same ease with which his eyes did when looking into at the creature. “Somewhere else altogether? Somewhere where I can be free? Be the master of my own destiny?” He knew now what this creature was. “Are you the devil?”

The being shook its head, as if amused, and some of the char fell off its face in thin pieces, revealing the scorching insides. “Am I the lord of the Underworld in the way you Christians see it? No. Am I a devil? Perhaps I am. And I have the power to give you a new life. A life where you can have all you’ve ever dreamed of.”