Thy Kingdom Come

The demon Aeshma  whispered.  And I listened.  I listened to the voice that sounded like the rustling of long dead leaves, the words seeming to emanate from the very molecules of the air itself.  A million raspy voices from a single entity that filled the room and caused my eardrums to quiver with its resonance. And yet my parents slept on.  Unaware of my shadow falling over their bed, oblivious to the glint of moonlight off the blade of the knife I had taken from the kitchen.
    I thought of the cat lying on my bedroom floor, its own blood tracing a nine-pointed star around its lifeless body. I could clearly picture the black candles flickering light and shadow across its matted fur, could almost smell the aroma of incense, thick and sweet like the overpowering fragrance of flowers clustered tightly into a funeral home.  And I thought of Michelle standing in my little brother’s bedroom, her own knife in hand, listening to the demon whisper as well.  Soon, we would hold the power of life and death in our hands;  we would become King and Queen of the new, dark world.  All of Aeshma’s promises would come to fruition with the completion of one simple act.
    My father snored and rolled over in his sleep so that he was now on his back with the sheet tucked snugly beneath his chin.  I watched his chest rise and fall, envisioning where his heart would be.  My aim had to be precise, my stroke quick and complete . . . a true King could not afford to hesitate at the moment of his crowning glory.
    "Soon," Aeshma whispered in the darkness, "so very soon."
    I thought back to when Michelle and I had first found The Book in my grandfather’s attic, how the wind had almost seemed to sigh through the cracks in the walls when we opened its cover.  The pages felt warm and oily to our fingertips and the words and symbols almost seemed as if they were floating a fraction of a centimeter above the paper.  At that moment, the unfolding of our destiny had begun. And looking back, I understood that there was no other way this could have played out.
    My mother and father had eventually found The Book, of course.  I suspect they were searching through my room while I was at school, expecting to find drugs or a hidden bottle of whiskey.  Anything that would explain away the sudden change in my behavior and the slump in my grades.
When I came home that day, they were waiting for me in the living room.  I remember them yelling, something about how they didn’t want this sort of trash in their home and how they raised me to have more sense than that.  To be honest, however, the sounds of their anger had been almost been entirely drown out by Aeshma’s voice reassuring me that this changed nothing.  And it hadn’t.  They had taken The Book, but by then it was too late.  Michelle and I had already committed the ceremony to memory and begun gathering the essential supplies.
    "It is time!" Aeshma hissed.  "It is time!  Do it, human, do it now!"
    I raised the knife over my head and tightened my grip until my knuckles were white and throbbing.
    "Do it!  Do it!"
    At that moment, my father bolted upright in bed, slinging the sheets from his body.  He was fully dressed and held a small pistol in his hand.  A pistol which was aimed directly at my head.  I stood like a man frozen in time, my mind reeling and confused by this turn of events.
    My mother was now also sitting up and I noticed the slight smirk that had crept across her face.
    "Do it, honey."  She said.  "Do it for your Queen."
    I became aware of The Book, clutched tightly to her chest. From down the hall, I heard Michelle laughing and calling out.
    "I did it, Timmy!  I did it!  I really did it!"
    My father cocked the pistol with his thumb and smiled.
    "Goodbye, Timothy.  We have no room for a Prince in our Kingdom."
    And then the demon Aeshma laughed.
    

Reviews

[El Suplexo]

I found myself liking this one, though it didn't start out that way. I can't put my finger on it, but the story (starting out at least) seemed . . . dry? Maybe a bit bland. It is a pretty dark subject matter you got going on here, and it didn't feel that way right off the bat. I don't think the tone came through strong enough. What might help is setting it in a different tense. Maybe with 3rd person, it would seem a little more sinister. I never really felt the corruption of the main character, so you might want to try and play that up a little more. All that being said, I loved the ending. Again, I think it might be a little stronger in 3rd person, but it still got me. It felt like a really good twist, something I have not seen before. The ending is really the best part, and really makes the story.

[David M. Turner]

The imagery in the begining was amazing! I was a bit disapointed when you let the descriptions slip towards the middle and end though. You have such a beautiful way of describing things, then it just seems to vanish with the paragraph starting "My father snored and rolled over in his sleep so that he was now on his back with the sheet tucked snugly beneath his chin." However, I loved the story. I really wasn't expecting that twist, especially how the demon used Michelle to kill the younger brother while using Timothy to allow his parents to finish the ceremony. Great twist!

I've attatched a note for the one small typo I saw while reading it.