Demon to God (Light Novel: Chapter 1)

Chapter 1: Erin Rider

It’s cold, cold enough to see my breath, even in the fading light. A shiver runs down my spine and I wrap my arms tightly around myself. My body is shaking and all I want to do is curl up into a ball but I know I can’t stay here. I don’t even know where “here” is. My eyebrows knit together in concern as I take in the thick undulating fog around me. The tendrils of mist make it difficult to see even five feet in any direction. I take a single, tentative step forward and my booted foot clacks against hard cobblestone underneath. Without any other option, I follow the path of rock. It isn’t long before the dark outline of a cottage comes into view but I don’t feel the relief I had been expecting. There’s no light coming from the building. That fact alone isn’t enough to give me pause but as more of the fog clears, the more familiar all of this begins to feel. On odd sense of dejavu settles over me. At first, I shrug off the feeling but when I reach the steps, my mouth goes dry. The small stone stairway that leads to the front door of the cottage is splattered with dark stains.

“Blood,” I whisper and my breath carries the word for a moment longer before fading away. 

My eyes lift to the splintered wood of the door. It appears to have been kicked in. I grimace at the damage and take a deep breath. I know what I’m likely to find inside but I don’t turn back. I ascend the three steps and push the door aside with a loud creak. More blood greets me at the entrance, leaving a trail of splatters and smears across the wooden planks of the floor. My eyes follow the obvious path and come to rest on the still form in the corner of the room. The feeling of dejavu from earlier returns with such intensity that I find it impossible to ignore. My palms itch as I take in the body of the woman. Her long dark hair fans out across the wooden planks of the floor and one arm is outstretched as if she had been reaching for something in her last moments. I have to look away when an immense sense of guilt washes over me. I scratch at my palms but my touch fails to relieve the itch. In frustration I hold my hands up in front of my face and my eyes widen at the sight. Thick, dark blood is spreading from the center of both of my palms. 

“What the hell?” I yelp out the words and quickly wipe at my pants in an attempt to rid my hands of the blood. It soaks into the fabric easily but I fail to stop the spread that now completely envelopes both of my hands. I claw desperately at my skin and take several involuntary steps back. My foot catches on something soft and I lose my balance. Unable to stop my momentum from carrying me to the ground, I just manage to get my arms out in time to prevent my head from slamming into the floor. My legs remain draped over the object that tripped me and I roll over to get a better look. My breath catches in my throat as I take in the small lifeless form of the young boy laying at my feet. This time I don’t just get a vague sense of guilt as I had with the woman. I recognize this boy, my chest aches at the memory and I find myself unable to look away. His small body is laying on it’s side and his vacant eyes are staring right at me. The boy’s dusty face is streaked with the treks of long dried tears and the gash in his throat has long since ceased bleeding. I feel the sting of tears in my own eyes and something heavy comes to rest in my palm. I look down at my hands and the tears roll down my face at the sight of the bloody dagger in my grip. There’s so much blood now, it’s everywhere and I can’t do anything but throw my head back and scream. 

A gasp escapes my lips as I jolt awake and struggle for several long moments to catch my breath. I focus my gaze on the low light that shows through the cracked stone of my ceiling as my body calms. I’ve been having this same dream every night since the mission ended over a week ago. Clearly my conscience isn’t okay with letting me forget and I’ve tried. Hell with the amount of alcohol I drank last night… 

“Mmmm... hey gorgeous,” I flinch at the unexpected voice coming from beside me in bed. This is why I don’t drink. I roll onto my side and come face to face with Mariah’s grey eyes. The woman is lying on her stomach with the blanket thrown off of her naked body and her long auburn hair flows down over her shoulder. She possesses the same tattoos as every other demon. Folded, black and tattered wings cover the pale skin of her back and a long black tail spirals down the length of her right leg, ending at the point of a serrated blade. Smaller, triangle-like tattoos rest just above each fingernail in an abstract representation of claws. I lift my gaze from her hand to find the woman smirking at me. “I knew I would get you into bed eventually,” she says in a smug tone and rolls onto her back. Stretching her lithe body in a way that draws my attention to her ample chest. “Like what you see?” her question snaps me from my reverie and I scowl, angry at my wondering eyes. 

I’ve known this particular demon for several years now and we have never gotten along. If I’m being honest there isn’t another demon alive that I can actually get along with. “Mariah, I think you should go,” I say rather abruptly and sit up, causing the blanket to fall away from my chest and pool around my hips. My scowl only deepens as I take in my own nakedness. “Well fuck,” I mumble to myself but Mariah hears and the self satisfied grin that splits her face makes me want to punch her.

“I had fun,” she winks and moves closer, her hand coming up to run a finger along the underside of my breast.

I slap Mariah’s hand away, “Well I don’t remember so it couldn’t have been that great.” 

For a moment, Mariah bares her teeth at me in a silent growl but then her face settles back into a smug expression. “You certainly weren’t complaining last night,” she says and slowly slides out of bed. She makes it to the door and then stops to look back at me. “I can’t wait to tell the guys that Erin Rider finally popped her cherry,” she puts her finger in her mouth and brings it back out with an audible pop. 

I say the first thing that comes to mind in my defense, “I wasn’t a virgin Mariah.”

Her bark of laughter hits me like a slap across the face. “Could have fooled me,” she says and walks out the door without even bothering to put on her clothes. 

I stare after her for several long moments. Then, double over with a groan and bury my face in my hands. The only memories I have from the night before involve alcohol and that damn nightmare. “What a way to start the day,” I mumble and rub at the pounding behind my temples. My lack of memory makes me uneasy and despite the fact that I find Mariah attractive, I feel violated. No, I shake my head clear of that train of thought. There are much worse things than waking up next to a beautiful woman no matter how manipulative.

With a sigh, I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I flinch when my bare feet touch the hot stone floor of my apartment. Somehow, even after five years, I still haven’t managed to get used to the heat of this place. Why Lucien decided to build his demon kingdom so deep underground that we have to use molten rock as a light source baffles me, but I stopped questioning that man’s motives long ago. At least he had the foresight to grant us some degree of heat resistance. Unfortunately, I'm not quite so thankful for some of his other “gifts”. As if aware of my thoughts, one such “gift” makes its presence known. Bloodlust. It deceptively manifests itself as a feeling of peace of mindless bliss but I know the truth. Lucien claimed that this ability would make us stronger and physically, it does. However, the true purpose of Bloodlust is to corrupt our minds, to shape us into the perfect little soldiers that Lucien always wanted. It calls to me often, lingering at the edges of my consciousness, promising me relief from guilt and pain but I resist. I’m sure that I’m the only one that has managed to do so and the result has created a clear divide between myself and the rest of the demons.  

I get out of bed and catch a brief glimpse of myself as I move past the full length mirror on my wall. Several marks on my body catch my attention and I step back to the mirror for a closer look. My brows knit together in a deep frown at the sight of the teeth marks Mariah left on my neck and the skin just above my hip. I pull my long dark hair over my shoulder in an attempt to cover the damage and run my fingers through the tangles. Makeup from the night before is smeared under my eyes, that coupled with the bruises and disheveled hair makes me cringe. “I am never drinking again,” I vow and pick up my brush. 

A sharp pain in my chest startles me and the eyeliner I had been holding is sent flying to the other side of the room. I wince and put a hand over my heart, another quirk of this place that I’ll never get used to. When I fail to move right away, the pain in my chest intensifies, dropping me to my knees. It’s as if someone is reaching into my chest and squeezing the life out of my heart. Lucien wishes to speak with me and instead of sending a messenger, he decided to inform me with pain. The invisible hand tightens its grip once again, black spots flicker in my vision and I cry out. Knowing I don’t have time to waste, I jump to my feet and cross the hot floor in three rushed steps. 

I throw open my wardrobe door and grab the first thing I can get my hands on. Not bothering with underclothes, I pull the black dress down over my head. The only pair of shoes in sight are my heels and I can’t help rolling my eyes as I step into them. “This is the perfect outfit,” I mutter sarcastically and crouch to adjust the strap on the back of my heel. 

Pain continues to shoot through my chest until I reach the door. Once outside of my one bedroom apartment only a dull ache remains. I’m breathing hard and desperately want to take a few seconds to catch my breath but I don’t dare. I let my feet carry me as quickly as my oxygen deprived body will allow and make my way through the streets of the residential district. The ceiling of the underground cavern is hundreds of yards above and lit with a circle of molten lava that resembles a dull sun. The streets and buildings are composed of a reddish stone and structured in a very natural order, giving off the impression that the entire place was carved from a mountain range. I continue to make my way through the tight rocky street until it widens into the large flat expanse of the Marketplace. I’m unable to avoid bumping into several demons as I move between the crowded shops. The place is packed with demons of all shapes and sizes but the most common are Cambion and Devils. 

Cambion are humans that Lucien captured and transformed into demons using some kind of mysterious magic. An involuntary shudder runs down my spine at the memory. The transition was rough for me but my outward appearance remained relatively unchanged. My features are sharper and my green eyes turned grey but I can still see my old self when I look in the mirror. Many others were not quite so lucky. My eyes follow a demon with sickly pale skin and spikes protruding from dozens of different places on his body. I shake my head. The Devils however, are life that Lucien created all on his own and they look like someone stitched together the worst parts of a goat, a human, and a dragon. Every last one of them are blood red from head to cloven toe. They have massive scaled wings and a thick scaly tail. Goat horns protrude from their foreheads and their legs are coated in matted fur. They stand on two hoofed feet and their torso and face closely resemble that of humans but the Devils features are twisted.  

Lost in my thoughts, I fail to notice the tall, muscular Cambion following me until the man deliberately steps in my path. I slam into his hard body at a run and we fall together to the stone floor with his hulking frame landing on top of me. I shove at the demons leathery arms in an attempt to free myself. 

“Get off!,” I shout and continue to push.  

He chuckles and his large hands come down to grip my shoulders. I try to shrug him off but the arms pinning me are as solid as steel. My gaze lifts to his face and the red glowing eyes that stare back at me are unmistakable. He’s using Bloodlust. I sigh, that would certainly explain his strength. It isn’t his weight that’s keeping me pinned down. 

“What’s the rush? Stay here and play with me for a while,” his tone is almost innocent but the demon's sharp toothed grin betrays his meaning. A crowd of spectators has already gathered around us, clearly expecting something interesting to happen. I would hate to disappoint. In one swift move, I ram my knee upward and catch him in the groin. The blow connects but the only reaction I get from him is an even broader grin. I curse myself under my breath for forgetting that he can’t feel any pain right now. Then, a small smile pulls at the corner of my mouth. He may not be feeling it now but he’ll be feeling it later. 

Ignoring my expression, the demon leans in with red eyes focused on my neck. “Looks like someone has already put his mark on you.” The man's breath smells of tobacco and rotten eggs. His thumb brushes the bite above my collarbone and I flinch. 

“Okay you have about half a second to get the fuck off of me before I kill you,” I say and manage to keep my voice steady despite my growing irritation. 

He laughs again and presses his body hard against mine. Then, he rocks his hips forward and rubs against my thigh, I roll my eyes.

“You asked for it,” I say, indifference coloring my tone and not a moment later a dull crack echoes throughout the cavern. Electricity sparks from every inch of my skin, resembling little lightning bolts. The man above me only has time to widen his eyes before his body stiffens and then begins to violently shake. His hands tighten painfully around my shoulders as the electricity manipulates his muscles. However, now that his body can’t focus on pinning me down I’m able to pry him off and stand. The demon stops convulsing and goes eerily still as soon as we lose contact. Tiny wisps of smoke rise from his body accompanied by the smell of burnt flesh. I wrinkle my nose, maybe I went a bit overboard with my magic but I did warn him so I can’t bring myself to feel bad. The sparks of lightning fade from my skin and I dust myself off.

“Must be Erin Rider ,” a male voice from behind says, drawing my attention. I had forgotten about the crowd. 

“Shit lets go,” someone replies and the gathered demons appear to collectively take a step back. 

I shake my head, I don’t have time for this. The pain of Lucien's summons is still fresh on my mind and I don’t want to draw his ire a second time because of this delay. I relax my breathing and focus my energy on the tattoo that adorns the length of my back. It takes me less than a second to sense and release the seal there, years of practice making the process routine. Black leathery wings sprout from my back, measuring just over fifteen feet in combined length. My muscles contract as I bring my wings down and propel myself into the air. Shouts of alarm travel up from the crowd below but the voices quickly fade away as I leave the market place behind. Still, my body feels a bit heavier in flight than it normally would and I have my little light show to blame for that. My magic is always taxing, so much so that I avoid using it if possible. It’s like a double edged sword that could kill me just as easily as it could save me. I have to be careful. 

The breeze on my face pulls me from my thoughts. It feels heavenly against my heated skin and I close my eyes, allowing myself to just enjoy the cool air. Moments of calm like this one are rare and a hard life has taught me to appreciate them as they come. Still, I can’t linger, I have that meeting with an evil demon god to attend to. I roll my eyes and scan the ground below. The sight of Lucien's mountainous black castle sends pin pricks of unease down my spine. I’ll never get used to the sheer size of the place. The highest tower practically scrapes the top of the canyon. I sigh and angle my body down into a dive with the thought that I might as well get this over with. I can only hope that whatever he has planned for me won’t be quite as terrible as my last mission. An involuntary shudder racks my body at the thought and I shake my head to banish the unwanted memory. The grand steps that lead to Lucien’s elaborate front entrance are fast approaching and I pull up from my dive.

My body feels weightless for the briefest of moments before my feet touch down on the top step with a light tap. With a thought, my wings disappear into the detailed tattoos that run the length of my back. I’m lucky that all my dresses are designed with this in mind and I didn’t rip anything in flight. I run my hands down the length of my outfit before turning my attention to the two guards eyeing me suspiciously. They are Cambion like me and could pass for human if not for the long black tails that thump impatiently against the marble floor beneath them. Each is immaculately dressed in a combination of black leather and metal plate armor. The crest of a silver raven adorns the left breast of their chest pieces. The taller guard with dark hair and a slender frame steps forward, spear in hand. 

“State your business,” he says in a tone that he likely considers intimidating. 

I look from one guard to the other, “My name is Erin Rider  and I was summoned here by our Master. I’m not sure what the Dark God wishes of me but I know that he does not like to be kept waiting.”

The taller guards face pales and he quickly steps back to his previous position opposite his companion. “Of course, right this way Ms. Rider ,” he says and gestures for me to pass through the large and intricately decorated doorway between the two of them.  

I continue walking without sparing them another glance. Lucien’s guards are just for show anyway. The man himself is damn near invincible, there’s no one here foolish enough to attack him. The large door closes behind me with an irritating screech and I wait for my eyes to adjust to the low light of the hall. From the outside, this building looks like a black marble mountain, covered in jagged spikes and towers. On the inside however, no jagged edges remain. Everything is smooth and in accord with Lucien’s love of black. From the velvet carpet to the marble floors, even the walls and ceiling are black. The only splash of color comes from the dim yellow light of the sconces that line the walls. 

I take a deep breath and make my way through the long eerie hallway. The unease I had been feeling since I first lay eyes on the place is only growing stronger with each step. My main concern at the moment being the sheer size of this place. I wonder where to even begin looking for Lucien. Deciding that the throne room is a good place to start, I continue straight. I’ll have to pass through the council room to get there but I’m unlikely to find any members of the council here today.  Soon, the path ahead separates into two, another hallway to the left and a large stone door on the right that sits sunken into its marble frame. I recognize the door and grunt with effort when I attempt to push the heavy stone aside. It doesn’t budge. After taking a deep breath, I put all my weight behind another shove and the door inches backward at a slow crawl. I continue to press and my momentum builds until I completely lose my grip on the stone. The door is now swinging open much faster than anticipated and I scramble to catch it but I’m too late.

With a loud bang the heavy stone door collides with the opposite wall and sends a rumbling echo reverberating throughout the room. I hesitantly inspect the wall behind the door and am unable to hold in a sigh of relief when I see that it’s undamaged. With much greater care than before, I slowly close the door and turn to continue through the council room. My eyes widen at the sight of the man standing directly in front of me but I don’t have time to make out his face before the back of his hand collides with my cheek. The force of the unexpected blow sends my head reeling and I stumble backward a few steps. 

“Disruptive little bitch, you’re lucky that’s all I’m giving you for an entrance like that,” the man says and I recognize the voice immediately. 

“Malik,” I say in calm acknowledgement and run my tongue over the small split in my lip. I straighten and spit to rid my mouth of the metallic taste of blood. It lands at his feet. Malik’s upper lip curls into a snarl, distorting the handsome features of his face. He steps closer into my personal space and the lapels of his black leather suit swish audibly with the move. His face is only a few inches from mine and I can smell the gel he uses to keep his light brown hair slicked back. Okay, he’s starting to make me angry. 

“Do you need me to remind you of your place?” he spat the last word at me with such vehemence that I have to wipe at a spot on my chin. I don’t even try to keep the annoyance from my expression. 

“Malik, stand down!” calls a commanding voice from further in the room. We both turn and the blood drains from my face when my eyes meet with Lucien’s. I immediately drop to one knee and bow my head. Having to perform this degrading act irritates me but being disrespectful will only get me killed. With Malik, Lucien’s second in command, I can get away with more but not the Dark God himself. “Rise Erin,” Lucien says, his voice deep and melodic. 

I stand and look to the center of the room. Lucien is sitting at the far end of a large round table directly opposite me. Eight chairs in total surround the table and are all identical except for his intricately carved black oak chair. It sits several feet above the rest so that he may look down on others from up high. Our gazes meet again. I find the silver color of his eyes unnerving against the white of his sclera. He runs long fingers through the braids of his black hair and one of the many raven feathers woven into the braids comes loose. I keep my eyes from following its path as it gently floats to the floor. 

“Come, both of you sit, we have much to discuss,” he says opening his arms to the chairs on either side of him. The movement causes his armor to creak. 

A robotic, “Yes Master,” comes from both Malik and I as we move to the seats that Lucien indicated. 

When we’re both seated a perfect but sinister smile spreads across the Dark Gods face. “I called you both here because I received word from our scouts to the east that a large army of angels is headed our way,” he says, clearly excited by the news. “They should arrive within the next hour or so and I can only assume that they’re coming to fight.” He pauses and I almost opened my mouth to ask a question but then I remember who’s speaking and quickly decide against it. “I want them wiped out,” he continues. “Every last one.” Malik and I both nod our heads. “Malik,” Lucien turns to face his second. “You will be in command of our army. They are waiting for you at the eastern gate.”

“You will not be disappointed Master,” Malik says and presses a fist to his chest in salute.

Lucien inclines his head but his silver eyes hold a warning. “Go then,” he says, the words are simple but the grave expression on Malik’s face shows he understands the consequences if he were to fail. Once his second has left the room the Dark God turns his attention back to me. “You’re my best assassin,” he says in a nonchalant tone. “I have a special mission for you.” I resist the urge to cringe. It had not been my choice to become an assassin. In fact being here in general happened completely against my will but I push the thought away. It’s useless to think of such things when there's nothing to do about them. “You will infiltrate enemy lines,” Lucien continues, drawing me back to the task at hand. “And take out their officers. Anyone who appears to be in command.” I suppress a groan, this mission is likely to get me killed. 

“Understood,” is all I allow myself to say out loud. 

Lucien’s eyes scan my outfit. “I have something for you,” he says and my jaw almost drops. Am I being pranked? The Dark God stands and walks over to something covered in a black sheet in the corner of the room. He grips the edge of the sheet with one hand and quickly pulls it back. Revealing a set of beautiful black armor and matching sword and daggers. “You have served me well and I understand the difficulty of your mission. I wish for you to be successful so please accept this gift.” I can’t help it, my jaw does drop this time. I have been Lucien’s slave for well over five years now and not once... not once... has he shown me an ounce of kindness.

I step closer to inspect the armor, it appears to be made of a thin metal and designed to fit every muscle and curve of my body perfectly. Lucien picks up the sword and hands it to me. I had originally thought the blade black but now that I’m holding it, I realize that it’s actually a dark red. “This sword has the ability to absorb the blood of whoever it cuts. The more blood the sword absorbs, the darker the color will get and the stronger its effect will become.”

“Does it have a name,” I ask, still in a mild state of shock. 

“Kruuldan.”

I nod, “Thank you for the gift Master. I won’t fail.”  

“Very well, get changed quickly and take the Northern Gate to the surface,” he says, then Lucien turns his back on me and strides from the room. 

I do as he says. The armor is surprisingly easy to put on. There’s some sort of stretchy fabric laced in between each of the metal panels, allowing me to slip into it like any normal shirt and pants. It hugs my body like a second skin and shows off the lean muscles of my athletic frame. There are three gaps in the metal plating that appear to be intentional. One split over each of my shoulder blades and one just above my tailbone. I can easily guess what the gaps are for but I wonder if they actually work as intended. With a thought, I release my tail from the tattoo seal coiled around my leg and it’s smooth black length easily finds its way through the gap in my armor. I smile at the new awareness and extension of senses my tail provides. Then, I roll my shoulders, flex my arms, and flick my tail to test the range of motion and find myself pleasantly surprised. With the armor functioning properly, I pull my dark hair up into a messy ponytail and strap a dagger to the outside of each thigh. Finally, I buckle Kruuldan to my hip and start at a jog back toward the front entrance. 

The guards don’t pay me any mind as I rush past them and leap from the steps. My wings spread out to catch me in mid air and I’m quickly on my way to the Northern Gate. It only takes a minute or two to cross the cavern and for the large square frame of the gate to appear. To a casual observer, it doesn’t look like anything special. Just a square black metal frame of about twenty feet tall standing in the center of a rock platform. It’s always reminded me of a door. I touch down where one side of the metal frame protrudes from the platform and brush my finger over an inscription carved into its smooth surface. The letters glow white at my touch and the air inside the gate begins to shimmer and distort. A dull humming sound reaches my ears and I take a final steadying breath before stepping through the North Gate.