Top Two Things You Will Experience Living In Blackheim

1. Torture. Some people are into that, and some people are not. Whether or not this is a benefit depends on your specific tastes.

2. Energy leakage. Have you ever wondered what it feels like to be used as a human battery for demons? Well, move to Blackheim, and you will get your chance to find out. Warning: side effects may include crippling depression. Since most demons feed off of misery and suffering and pain.

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“Lander, where are you?”

The screams drew closer. The passing lights threw shadows upon the wall -- formless, grotesque shadows dripping with ink. Once the darkness fell again, silence drifting across the chaos like smoke, Lander pressed his head into his knees, trembling.

“Lander, please say something!”

Lander lost his words. His throat was constricted, hands pressed against his ears, a bubble of disbelief shielding his psyche. Why were they looking for him? Why were the hisses, the cackling, the darkness drawing near?

A hand clasped around Lander’s wrist. He almost cried out, but a familiar shushing noise sent a wave of relief coursing through him. The flash of light splattering the walls from the window above Lander’s head confirmed the identity of his visitor.

“Carmela…” Lander whispered. “Carmela!”

“They got dad,” was Carmela’s reply.

Lander shut his eyes, breathing deeply. “He made this happen…”

“I know,” Carmela said, wrapping her arms around Lander’s neck. “I know.”

“If he had never...if he had just…” Lander fought to regain the words chaos scattered across his floor. “I...Why did he make them mad?”

“He didn’t know,” Carmela said, pressing her cheek against Lander’s.

“I don’t want to die,” Lander whispered.

“You’re not going to.”

“Are you sure? Carmela, they’re bad people. The demons want to kill us. Carmela, please, I’m so scared. Oh no, oh no, oh no. We’re going to die.”

Embers burned in Carmela’s eye, setting her conviction aflame with passion. “You can’t say that. Don’t you ever say that.” Carmela gripped Lander’s shoulders, clinging to him like she would to a sinking lifeboat. “In this terrible world, you need to live. You cannot let yourself die. Never give up. Never accept death!”

Lander’s eyes widened. “I...okay.”

“Promise me you will never stop.” Carmela’s hands were trembling. “Promise me you’ll never accept death.”

Lander nodded as tears streamed down his face.

A tear trickled from Carmela’s cheek as the door burst open. The thunderous explosion of footsteps and the unearthly crash of the door smashing through the wall echoed in Lander’s head. Three monsters leered into the strobing light. Striking red horns curved about their heads, invading the monochrome with a highlight of blood.

One of the demons tossed Mother onto the ground, her white dress fluttering behind her like the tail of an angel, red scribbled into the folds.

“Please...Please, you’ve already had your revenge. We didn’t do anything to you,” Mother begged, dignity spilling onto the floor. All for the sake of her precious. “You killed him! You’ve taken him away! You’re done!”

“Done?” one monster spat, malicious laughter echoing through the room. “You think that his death will absolve him of his sin?”

“We had nothing to do with his decision,” Mother sobbed, struggling to rise to her knees. A monster smashed a foot into her ribs, sending her careening sideways.

“Mom!” Carmela shrieked. “Stop it! Stop hurting her!”

The demons’ laughter polluted the air. One demon lashed out, slamming a fist into Carmela’s face. Her hold on Lander slipped and she plummeted into the wall. An obstacle removed, the demons lurched toward Lander, who screamed.

“We’ll leave you alone,” one of the demons said, laughing. “We’ll leave you alone under one circumstance.”

“Yes,” Mother said, scrambling to her feet. “Yes, I’ll do anything.”

“I will let either two of you out of the room, or none of you.”

Silence, except for the piercing shrieks emanating from outside, fell upon the room.

“Only two of us…?” Mother said. “Yes, me then! Kill me! Kill me and let my children go!”

“Oh, you misunderstood me,” the demon said, towering over the mother. “I will let two of you go. One of your children. You have to choose which one of them will become a sacrifice.”

“No!” Mother exclaimed, dissolving onto the floor. “No, no...No, please. Please kill me! Please kill me!”

“Only one of those two precious children will leave. And you have your husband to thank for that.”

“I can’t choose. I can’t! I -”

“Then you will all die.”

In an instant, Carmela was on her feet. Blood dripped from a tear in her cheek, but she extended one arm toward Lander. A white crystal was fixed between her index finger and thumb. With a flash of white light, drowning the darkness, a translucent bubble engulfed her brother. Her fingertips were glowing with a ghostlike paleness.

“I took the choice away from you,” Carmela whispered, turning toward the demons, who winced away from the glowing barrier.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Carmela! That - that is ethreallic magic...” Lander exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. “You...you’re a Practitioner?”

“I’m so sorry for forbidding it,” Mother sobbed, wrapping her arms around Carmela. “I’m so sorry. You did so well, baby. You did so well.”

“I’ve made the choice for you, mom,” Carmela said, her voice strangled. “They can’t cross the barrier, but I can’t keep it up forever. Tell them to kill me. I’ll hold them off.”

“No!”

“This is what I live for,” Carmela said. “I live for my little brother. He is my everything.”

“Baby, what are you talking about? No...don’t make me do this. I don’t want to.”

Carmela pressed her hands upon her mother’s tarnished cheeks as she sobbed disconsolately. “You don’t have to make a choice. Tell them to kill me.”

Lander had shut down. His mind had become imprisoned in silence. He could hardly see, hardly perceive the world around him. Despair had clung to him like the scent of smoke, drowning his senses. He could not move. He could not react. He couldn’t comprehend the scene unfolding before him.

“No!” came Lander’s strangled cry as he threw himself at the white barrier, beating his fists against it. It was smooth and warm, like a bowl lifted from a dishwasher. “No! Carmela, you can’t die! I’ll die! I’ll die!”

Carmela’s eyes flashed with rage and she yelled back, “Never say that again! You will not die! I’ll never let you die! I won’t go down without a fight! I’ll fight until I succeed. Until you’re safe.”

“Carmela!”

The central demon flicked his tail in frustration. A demon could not invade a barrier made by ethreallic magic: the magic of the angels. Regaining his composure, he whipped toward Mother and said, “Make your choice. Which of your children shall I kill?”

“My choice has been made for me,” Mother whispered, tears streaming down her face. “There’s nothing else for me to say.”

“We want you to say it,” came the reply.

The demons rounded on Carmela, tails flicking in anticipations, fangs bared.

Mother whispered something,

“Say it louder!” the demon screamed, slamming his foot into Mother’s mangled body.

“Lander.”

The air became still. The breath was stuck in their throats; time hung in the air like stagnant fog.

In the seconds of confusion that followed Mother’s decision, a shriek pierced the air like an arrow.

Within seconds, a demon was crumpled on the ground, a sword lodged in his forehead. Carmela stood above the corpse, hands clamped around the leather bound handle, black blood splattered over her chest and arms.

From where Carmela procured the sword, Lander could not say. All he could perceive were the bloodied hands gently scooping him from his shielded prison.

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“You were yelling in your sleep,” Madeline’s voice said.

Victor opened his eyes. The slanted roof towered above him, the moon peeking through the cracks in the shingles. Sweat coated his skin and he sat up, a trembling hand pressed against his forehead.

“Was I now?” Victor repeated, sitting upright in the grimy, tattered mattress tucked in the corner of the attic. “Well I was invaded by a strange dream. Very strange.”

“Was it the same one with the kids being eaten by the demons?”

“Well, they weren’t being eaten this time,” he muttered. “Just attacked.”

Madeline plopped down beside Victor and patted his long dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail, almost bearing a blue tint in the semi-darkness. “I’m sorry you keep getting these weird dreams.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Victor said, waving her off. “I can handle anything! I am the Supreme Overlord of Darkness after all!”

Madeline retracted her hand.

Victor stared at her. “Is...something wrong, Madeline the Cruel?”

“Maybe we should think about joining the Underground Militia after all,” she said.

Victor stared at her, eyes widened in disbelief. “What? Are you talking about the heroic

organization trying to tackle the Parasite invading the government like a bunch of comic book pansies? I am a supervillain, goddamn it. I want people to suffer.”

“Well, yeah,” Madeline said. “You do know that Rohan joined it. I guess him getting hurt was related to that. I wonder why he couldn’t turn to anyone else in the Underground Militia.”

“Well, I suppose so. This is what happens when you pretend to engage in foolish heroism. Why would you even want to join a heroic organization? I thought you wanted to be evil.”

Madeline sighed. “I mean, I don’t want to be evil. I don’t really understand ‘evil’ anyway. I was just bored with my life and that’s why I joined your silly pursuit.”

Victor turned away from her, narrowing his eyes. “Ugh. I knew it. You are not truly dedicated to my cause! You are just apathetic. You have no moral compass.”

“I am dedicated to you though,” she giggled, poking him on the nose. “If I had feelings, I just might be able to fall in love with you!”

“Disgusting!” Victor proclaimed, giving her shoulder a light push in disgust. “How dare you insinuate that I would reciprocate such distasteful emotions?”

“Oh, I know you won’t,” Madeline said with a smile. “That’s why I put up with you! So I can hang out with someone who I know won’t fall in love with me. Because you have no idea what a pain that is to deal with! Commitment? No thank you!”

Victor laughed. “I am glad we are on the same page.” Hesitation. “But why on Earth would you want to join a heroic cause?”

“Well,” Madeline said, tapping a finger against her chin. “I mean, all our friends are doing it. I miss them! And I’m getting tired of all the purges.”

“They had a purge in the West end of Gravelys,” Victor muttered. “Destroyed the city. Lots of people were slaughtered to feed the Parasite! I wish I could wield power to that degree.”

“Maybe you could,” Madeline said, tapping a finger against her chin.

Victor suddenly rose to his feet. “Listen here, you vile seductress of the night. I shall not fall prey to the callings of the light!”

Madeline let a giggle escape her lips. “Okay, okay. You can be evil if you want to Mr. Poetry.”

“Thank you,” Victor said. He turned his focus to the opposite end of the attic. Rohan occupied the only bed present in the tight shack. Eyes closed, chest rising and falling in a jerky motion, he appeared as harmless as a father refusing to pay child support. On the surface, not an active perpetrator of cruel abuse; in truth, a vehicle of slumbering destruction.

“Will he be alright?” Victor asked her.

“Yes! He just needs to rest some more. I will renew the healing spell soon, but I’m running out of ethreallic crystallics to do the spell with. Do you know where we can get some more?”

“Of course I do,” Victor said dismissively, staring at Rohan.

Rohan -- the epitome of pride and self-restraint. When Victor had abandoned Rohan to the blinding brilliance of heroism while he navigated the comfortable shadows, Rohan not once told him to return. Not once did Rohan admit to the bond that they had forged through their years at the Official Practitioner Institution of Drakyn State. Not once did he beg for his return, fall to his knees. They parted with only a single word.

“Fine.”

Fine.

Surely, it was not fine. It was never fine. And yet, Rohan never admitted there to be a problem. And there he was, as pathetic as a shaved worm, writhing in pain, helpless. He came crawling back to Victor after all.

What could have happened?