Authors: Scott Spotson
Suddenly, she felt her feet drag along the surface, and realized she was walking on an uneven sidewalk. She blinked. Somehow, she had materialized into an alleyway. The darkness of the shadow cast upon her space startled her. She could “feel” the damper, cooler air: she was now outside.
Demus appeared beside her, with a disgruntled expression on his face. He was wearing a dark brown leather jacket, white cotton shirt, and jeans with a studded belt.
Upon seeing him, she became tense. She now knew she had been transported against her will. She was starting to really dislike the guy. What did it take to convince him to leave her alone?
“Demus,” she said firmly, “You’ve got to stop this. Take me back.”
“No,” Demus said, seemingly no longer caring what she thought of him. “Not until you know more about me first.”
Amanda was puzzled. “Know what?”
Demus pointed at a brick wall of a dilapidated building down from the alleyway. “This is Detroit, Michigan.”
“Oh.”
“Where I grew up.”
“Uh huh.”
“This is a slum area. Can’t you tell?” His eyes were dangerous. He appeared as if he was daring her to make a move.
Amanda glanced around, a little afraid. There was graffiti on the concrete walls on either side of the alley. An open bin of garbage, some contents spilling out, stood ten feet behind them. There was muddy, thick liquid lining the cracks of the sidewalks. Broken beer bottle shards scattered randomly twenty feet in front of them. Looking upwards, Amanda noticed that whatever few windows there were, were all barred.
“Yes, it seems like it,” she acknowledged. “What are you trying to prove, Demus?”
“I grew up in a slum area,” Demus told her, holding her shoulders. His eyes were angry and sad at the same time.
Amanda was startled by his forthrightness. “Yes.”
Demus yanked at her arm to walk further down the alleyway, and didn’t let go. Amanda wanted to protest, but decided to wait until she knew what Demus wanted from her.
“Watch this,” he said.
As they two stood there, two young male teenagers walked from behind the building on the right to appear in view. Seemingly nervous, they darted glances everywhere, fumbling about their pockets. Amanda started to walk away, worried about their presence, but Demus grabbed her arm and restrained her. “Don’t worry, they can’t see us.”
Oh. So this was an illusion.
The two male teenagers were skinny, wearing designer baseball caps backwards. They both had zippered hoodies hanging over their meagre frames. One appeared older than the other. They both had brown hair covered with a cap. The older one had stubble on his chin, while the younger one was clean-shaven – or perhaps it was because he was too young to sport facial hair yet. They wore washed-out jeans and designer sneakers.
Amanda gazed more closely at the younger boy. She recognized him, but wasn’t sure. “Is that…?”
“Yes, it’s me,” Demus said.
Amanda stared in astonishment.
“I just turned seventeen that day,” Demus grimly added.
Amanda felt sympathy. “Oh, Demus…” she said.
Demus kept looking straight ahead stone faced. Amanda understood. He wanted her to keep watching.
The two teenagers started talking to each other.
“Christ, I forgot some,” the older boy said, patting his inside jacket pocket.
“Lemme see if I have more,” the younger Demus said, reaching into his back pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a strip of plastic and opened it, peering inside.
The older boy darted a hasty glance to their right. “Quick, give it to me!” He grabbed it from Demus and placed it into his inside jacket pocket.
Swearing, the younger Demus said, “Think Rat Face will show up?”
“Shut up!” his friend said, and swore some more.
After a minute of both teenagers looking off in all directions, as if they wished to conceal their whereabouts, two young males, definitely past their teen years, suddenly appeared from the left, hunched over. Both were tall, thin, and imposing. They also wore baseball caps worn to the front, rather than to the back.
“Got the stuff?” one of the young men asked the two teenagers.
“Here,” said Demus’ friend, pulling out the folded plastic case from his back pocket.
The receiving young man carefully inspected the contents, and then handed it to his friend for confirmation. Both nodded at each other, and then the first young man pulled something out of his front pocket and pushed it into the older teenager’s outstretched hand. The two young men started walking away quickly.
“Hey!” blurted the older teenager, “That’s only a hundred bucks!”
“That’s all I have. I’ll pay you later,” the first young man gruffly spoke.
The older teenager angrily grabbed the back of the leather jacket of his customer. “We agreed on five hundred dollars. Pay it now. Or give it back.” The younger Demus glanced at his friend in fear.
The customer swatted away the older teenager’s grip and kept walking away, his friend in lock step. Furious, the older teenager jumped on the back of the departing customer and started pounding away at his head. “That’ll teach you, you scum!”
The customer jabbed back his elbow to push off the older teenager, who felt to the asphalt, sprawling. Then, the customer’s friend took out a gun and shot twice at the fallen teenager. The two young men fled the scene.
“Oh, my God!” Amanda shrieked, holding her hands up beside her head.
Horrified, she watched as the younger Demus ran after the departing young men. The present-day Demus pulled at Amanda, urging her to follow him quickly. Ashamed to be darting past the bleeding and groaning teenager, Amanda rounded the corner to find an open square.
The younger Demus was crying and enraged at the same time. Realizing the fugitives would soon outrun him, the younger Demus crouched and gazed intently at the departing figures. “Nooooo!” he cried out, emitting a primal scream.
To his astonishment, the two young men got swept off their feet by an invisible force and both of them were hurled airborne ten feet into the nearby brick wall. They had rammed into the wall in sideway positions, falling down to the ground onto their shoulders and arms. The two fugitives groaned as they tried to arouse themselves with great difficulty.
The younger Demus ran closer. He was overwhelmed by the odd incident, but he was also grieving for his friend. “Nooo!” he yelled again, clenching his fists.
Dazed, and severely injured, the two young men stood up, wobbly. They gazed at him, uncertain of what had happened.
Swearing, and very vocal, the younger Demus grasped into the open air with his arms. “You blood suckers!” He yelled again, and then screamed, “Murderers!” Without realizing it, brown glass beer bottles appeared in his hands, one at a time. He starting throwing them at the two astonished young men, and further extending his arms, caused them to explode mere seconds away from the doomed victims. One after the other, showers of broken glass sprayed the two young men. They both fell within seconds, bleeding severely, but the younger Demus didn’t let up.
Demus kept on going. He raged. He yelled. He threw without inhibition. He threw one bottle after another. The bottles all unerringly exploded mere inches away from the two crumpled young men, already dead.
After a few minutes, the younger Demus still raged. He settled for aiming the bottles directly at the wall above the two corpses, scattering bits and pieces of glass over the bodies.
Panting and hyperventilating, the younger Demus sank to his knees. Amanda’s heart curdled at his expression of pure anguish. The young wizard looked at his hands, and then sank to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
She couldn’t take it anymore and buried her face in the present-day Demus’ chest, crying.
A sullen Demus pushed her away gently, then placing his hand under her chin, twisted her face back to full view of the spectacle. “No, you must watch. All of it.”
“I can’t.”
“This was when I found out I was a wizard,” he said.
Amanda gasped with horror. The younger Demus crawled on his hands and feet, wracked with grief. Mustering all his effort, he ran over to his dead friend. Sobbing again, he hugged the lifeless figure. “Noah!” he wailed, clinging tighter than ever. Blood seeped onto the younger Demus’ jacket and shirt. “Noah, I love you.” Wiping his tears away with his bloodied arm, the younger Demus moaned, “This is shit! This isn’t real.”
Horrified, Amanda kept gazing at the tragedy.
“That was my brother,” he said next to her.
Amanda quickly turned to face Demus.
“My brother Noah,” he said, “He was eighteen and a half when he died. Ten years ago today.”
Amanda cried again and launched herself into Demus’ arms.
“I loved him very much,” Demus solemnly said.
Amanda stepped back. “And you couldn’t bring him alive again?”
“No wizard can bring back the dead.”
Amanda sniffled, unsure what to say next.
“So, this is who I am. Take it or leave it. You see how I’ve struggled to stay noble to the values of the Liberators.”
“I’m so sorry, Demus. I had no idea.”
“No, you didn’t, Amanda.” Then he vanished.
She was startled by his disappearance. The sun was settling in this artificial scene. She looked around for an escape route. The shadows of the buildings loomed ahead of her.
Then she shrieked.
The two young men that had died at the hands of Demus’ magic were now standing! Evil glances in their eyes; they were now holding knives and advancing slowly upon her. Sharp shards of glass adorned every square inch of their clothing and skin, embedded into their cheeks, nose, and temples. Blood stained the two men everywhere as they continued to advance on her.
Amanda screamed and screamed. She was too terrified to run. “Demus!” she yelled out frantically.
He appeared ten feet away from her. He was now wearing black – black leather coat, black jeans, and black cotton shirt. He gazed upon her with a nasty expression.
“This part now is not real,” he said. “Up to the part where I was standing over my dead brother, grieving his death, it was all real. Now you can see the torment I’ve been facing ever since that day. The nightmares that haunt me still.”
“Demus, get me out!” Amanda hollered, ready to collapse.
“Now you understand,” Demus said coldly. “It shall be so.”
In an instant, both Demus and Amanda vanished.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Demus, I’m very disappointed in you,” Indie said.
He squirmed uncomfortably, his shoulders hunched. “It was the tenth anniversary of my brother’s death. I was depressed.”
“Why Amanda though?”
Demus lied. “Because Mortals killed my brother, who was also a Mortal. Amanda’s a Mortal. She would understand.” He said the last three words with sarcasm, but the irony was lost on the other three wizards.
Amanda shifted uneasily, but was relieved to see the three other wizards had believed Demus.
While private meetings of the four wizards were very rare, Amanda had requested it.
“We should think of a punishment,” Indie stated, glancing at everyone for feedback.
“Wizards don’t punish each other,” Justica pointed out. “Besides, Demus wasn’t in his normal state. You saw how he was at the Games. He was—”
Indie cut Justica off. “Well, this inexcusable behaviour can’t be ignored. We must do something.”
Justica reflected. “We can’t show the consequences of his punishment in front of our public. It’d affect our capacity to govern.”
Indie frowned. “Good point.”
Regi extended pointed a finger and said, “I’ve got it!”
Indie turned to him. “What?”
He massaged his chin. “It is of value for Amanda to learn about each one of us. Demus has shown Amanda his rather unfortunate past, which we all already knew. Why don’t we all take turns showing her a part of ourselves that enriches her experience on the job?”
Stunned, the wizards all looked at one other.
“I mean,” Regi said, “Amanda’s responsible for over five hundred million people. She’s the liaison between the Wizards and the Mortals. She’s already familiar with the Mortals. Shouldn’t she learn more about us wizards?”
Justica shook her head. “I don’t like it. We can’t divulge our secrets to a mere Mortal, no matter her position.”
“Well,” Regi argued, “We’re all responsible wizards. We only show our personalities, what makes us tick. No Wizard secrets. That way, Demus won’t have an inside advantage.”
“Good point,” Indie noted.
“He’ll have no hold over Amanda’s decision-making. We’ll all have an equal say in how she perceives us.” He glanced around the table. “What do you think?”
“I don’t like it,” Justica murmured.
“I like it,” Indie said decisively. “All agreed?”
Reluctantly, Demus shook his head, not looking up.
“Justica?”
Her face fell. “Very well. But do not, under any circumstances is anyone to reveal any wizard secrets.”
Amanda felt thrilled at the consensus, but added, “Shouldn’t we take a vote?”
Indie had an icy response. “The Liberators do not take votes.”
Amanda backtracked. “Sorry…”
Indie asserted, “We reach all decisions by consensus, unanimously. That’s the way it always has been and always will be.”
Those seated around the table fell silent.
“All right,” Indie said. “So it’s settled. To counter Demus’ rash decision to expose part of his life to our Supreme Liaison, we’ll all arrange for our valuable time to be spent with her in a personal capacity. Amanda will spend every Sunday for the next three weeks with each one of us.” She held her head up high. “I’ll be first. This coming Sunday. Then, Justica. Then, Regi.”
“I like it,” Regi said with a grin.
Demus merely scowled.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Indie, wearing a stunning floral patterned dress and sporting a cream-colored leather handbag and ivory white pumps, appeared in front of Amanda in the lobby of the Liberators’ Headquarters.
“You’re exactly on time,” Amanda said, quite impressed.
“Of course. Are you ready?”