The Pentagram Child: Part 1 (Afterlife Saga Book 5) (30 page)

So I shifted my body to the side and gingerly placed my feet on the floor. I felt the rough floorboards at my feet and frowned as I noticed that the floor too was also splattered with paint. I stood up and raised my eyes slowly to take in the room. It looked like the roof space in an old derelict warehouse or a large loft of some kind. The walls were slanted on one side and were made up of large glass panels that were held there by rusty iron strips. I could imagine that even in the day the windows would barely let in any light as they were so dirty they were milky and fogged.

I turned round and then quickly realised what this was as I took in all the dark passion that had been created. There were literally hundreds of canvases of all different sizes hung and placed around the room in any available space there was. It was obvious my dreams had taken me into the realm of someone’s private studio. I had no idea why I was seeing this, like most things my sleeping mind would conjure but if I was to guess I would say it had something to do with tonight at the gallery.

I tried to take in every painting but there were just too many of them. However, one seemed to stand out more than the others and that was because I knew its origins. It was set amongst some of the most violent scenes, which were obviously murder victims seen from the killer’s eyes. I knew this as you would see a hand holding a weapon in front of the scene in the background. The weapon was always the same in every picture. It was an elaborately carved wooden dagger whose handle was tear shaped. There were also symbols carved along the length but the only one I could make out was that of a pentagram.

But this one painting was different and not only because I knew what it was and where it was set but because it was the only one of the few that didn’t hold the dagger. I slowly crept closer just to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me but no, there it was, just as the paper had described. It was the massacred campers who had been brutally attacked. To this day the cops still didn’t know what had happened and neither did I, not even with my supernatural connections.

So how on earth did something like this end up in my dreams…? What did it all mean exactly? I moved further round the long and open space until what I saw made my hands fly to my mouth so that I could keep in the gasp that escaped. Because like my last dream, I was once again not as alone as I had first thought.

A half-naked man was stood in the centre with his back to me and I had no clue how I had first missed him. He was only wearing paint splattered combats that hung low on his hips and I noticed even his feet were bare. His trousers look like bits had been added to aid in his craft. Hoops at the pockets had small painting trowels hung in them and on the other side a wide leather pocket had too many brushes to count all rammed in there. Also metal belts both thin and thick hung around his waist, wrapped around numerous times.

His bare back looked tight with muscle but he was more of a slim athletic build. I could also see his hair was cut short at the back and sides with longer ash blonde hair on top in a messy style. Thankfully he seemed too absorbed in the painting in front of him that he was creating to be aware of my presence and giving it the raw anger which I saw was obviously his painting style.

In fact I was just walking backwards a step whist wondering these very things when I stepped into a can of paint, knocking it over with a clatter. As soon as I did this I knew no matter how absorbed an artist might be in their work, there was no missing the echo that bounced around the massive space. I cringed bringing my shoulders up and squinted my eyes as if any of this would help…of course, it didn’t.

I opened my eyes just as I saw his head start to turn and I froze, being far too afraid to make any sudden movements. He kind of lifted it up as if first listening out for something as he turned his head in a very predatory manner. I watched transfixed as I was about to get my first glimpse of this disturbed artist and I could only hope that his angry brush strokes didn’t reflect his social skills…dream or no dream!

The waiting felt like an eternity but in reality it was probably only seconds. Of course when he finally turned enough for me to see his features I was left with only one impulse and that was to run!

“Oh God!” I screamed out at the sight of his face. At first for the briefest time he had appeared quite handsome, with angular features, giving him a male model look about him. But that had quickly changed in a blink of an eye and at the same time the wind had pounded against the window panes making them rattle. It forced my eyes to the glass and what I saw there slammed me back into the past.

There I found words written everywhere in streaming black ink that elongated the words and in doing so made them more satanic. Words about Demons covered every panel, which in turn cast hellish shadows on the floor, like thin fingers reaching out to grab me and drag me back to where they came from. But these dripping words were the least of my problems for I was still not alone in this demonic studio. 

I jumped and screamed again when I looked back at the man and now that of his side view. His skeletal face quickly became a full frontal assault on my fears. It was strange, not like a skull without skin and flesh but more like flesh and skin with bone on top. At a glance you’d have said it had been painted on especially with the black at his nose and all around his eyes.

But when he moved it gave it a translucent effect that kept flashing in and out of his human face. Whatever he was it was scary and it was definitely to be feared which was made even clearer with his all white eyes with their tiny black dot at the centres.

“Ok…time to wake up now, Keira!” I said to myself as I started walking backwards at the sight of him now crossing the loft in long strides. It was only as he got closer that I noticed just how tall he was. It was also at the same time I noticed all the paintings around the space started to shake and vibrate and the need to escape this nightmare was increasing to panic level. So before he could reach me I spun on my heel and was about to make a run for it. However, this might have worked if I hadn’t ran directly into the biggest painting in the room, to a point where I had to stumble back.

I barely kept myself standing on two feet as the sight of a full length portrait dominated any rational part of my brain, for what I was seeing was really the stuff of nightmares. Only it was one I had been seeing for months but also, until this moment not really seeing. The face that I once found so handsome I now found myself wanting to gag in revulsion. It was like a mask of breaking skin held over a void of black where his flesh should have been.

His face held skin that looked like thick parchment paper which was torn in places and curled at the edges. Around his eyes there were gaping holes which were frayed around the tears and the black emptiness circled each piercing eye…eyes I knew so well. But it was his lack of lips that really instilled me with horror.

A slash in the skin ran from under his right eye down to where his lips should have been. The flap then opened up into a large space where his mouth was but again only black nothingness was to be seen lurking like a black shadow. It was as if something was under there, ready to strike true fear in his victims. There was just something about that void that almost hurt to look at, as if it made him even less of a man without the flesh and the blood.

“For the one who carries blood in their veins, is one that can bleed and for one that can bleed, can then…
die.”
These words came from behind me but the voice didn’t frighten me like I would have expected. No, if anything it was the opposite as the lulling voice soothed my fears and spoke as if he too wanted to rid the world of this creature. But that was wrong of me…  

“It…it can’t be…”
I muttered no longer caring about the Demon at my back but more now for the painted Demon at my front…

“Alex”            

Chapter 20

Bidding Not Bought This Time.

I woke with a start and expected that horrific face to be stood over me. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before and not something I ever wished to see again. I don’t know why I had first thought the man in the picture was Alex…that was impossible, wasn’t it? For one thing the Nephilim didn’t have any other forms of themselves and I knew this for certain as I had got curious in the beginning. It was when Alex had explained he knew I was different and this was because he was also.

It had been a shock hearing what he was and how exactly he fit into the supernatural world, making me feel bad for him at the prejudice he faced from Draven’s kind. It was the reason he said that he had shied away from that part of himself. It was not long after this that I had opened my senses to enable me to see any supernatural being in their true form. I think I was a little disappointed for reasons I couldn’t explain when I found out he was really no different. If anything there was just this aura floating around him that reminded me of seeing dust floating in the air on a sunny day.

He hadn’t made a big deal about who he was and over time I learned that he didn’t really much like talking about it. I had hoped he would have opened up more to me in time but so far I was still waiting for it to happen. Maybe this trip would be the time for it. He definitely needed to relax and getting away from his stressful job was never going to be a bad thing. Don’t get me wrong, it hadn’t been like this since we met but only recently when taking on this new client. I had watched him getting more stressed for the last month and even though he never took his frustrations out on me, you could clearly see that he didn’t have the same patience with everyone else.

So for these reasons I never could find it in me to give him a hard time, which only made it all the more embarrassing when Draven found me in the restaurant after Alex left but I tried not to think about that.

“Bloody Hell, Keira you are losing it!” I said out loud and shook my head. It was quite possibly one of the strangest dreams I’d had so far but instead of asking myself who was the Demon painter I was asking myself more about who was the one he painted? It just seemed like the more important question to me and as usual I had only to go with my instincts. However, I knew one thing for sure and that was it most definitely
wasn’t
Alex.

I got up and stretched, now more than happy to see the bed was back to being lovely once again. But as I stretched out I kicked something and looked down to see a large black box with a massive black bow attached. I couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness of Alex and I jumped up to open it like an excited little girl. I bounced on my knees grinning as I pulled the ribbon that now allowed me to pull off the lid. Whatever was inside must have been expensive from the box alone.

“Oh my.” I gasped and my hand flew to my mouth. I then reached out and ran my hand over the delicate black material before pulling it out and holding it up to look at. I then scooted off the bed and went to the full length mirror to hold it up against me by the shoulders. It was so beautiful but not in an overstated way.

The style of dress was an A line that cut across the breasts and came quite a few inches above the knee. It was a thick material similar to taffeta but then on top of that was a fine see through material that was edged with black ribbon. This part continued to the top and cut straight across my collarbone and slightly over my shoulders. The whole of the sheer material was then embroidered with Cornelli Lace in the shape of giant lilies, one of which bloomed over one shoulder like a star.

“Just lovely,” I hummed as I lay it gently on the back of a chair. Once I knew it wouldn’t slip to the floor I then went back to the box to find simple black shoes to match. However, it was the next item I found that made me blush. Surely this wasn’t something Alex would have thought about considering he wouldn’t get chance to see it. Well whatever the reasoning behind it I was still smiling at the thought of wearing the exquisite deep purple corset. Although I just wished he had rethought the colour as it was reminding of a certain someone’s eyes too much for my liking.

I pulled it out and once again held it up to my body and instantly knew it would be a perfect fit under the dress. I ran my hand down the satin and felt the flat pearls in black that clustered thicker at the bottom and reminded me of black rain drops. It was gorgeous and I smiled at the obvious good taste Alex had for picking clothes for me. Although picking out my underwear did kind of send the wrong message about tonight…I mean was he planning to see these at some point? Especially when seeing the tiny satin shorts to match, which were also encrusted with the black flat pearls. I mean he had even remembered to buy me black gloves to match my outfit and hide my scars at the same time.

The whole outfit was incredibly sexy and I was suddenly really looking forward to getting ready…

“Oh shit!” I shouted after that thought brought me to actually see what time it was, which was getting later by the second. I quickly whipped off my summer dress and practically ran to the magnificent bathroom at the same time trying to unhook my bra. It was far from a graceful sight but I was barely going to make it as it was.

So after a mad dash shower where thankfully I didn’t need to shave anything I was soon out and waving a hairdryer round my head like a woman possessed. It turned out that just as I was zipping up the side of my dress there was a knock on my door. This was of course after I wasted about fifthteen minutes trying to figure out my corset ties without breaking my spine.

“Coming!” I shouted. I then quickly stepped into my shoes and made sure the side bun I had put my hair into was still in place thanks to the million grips I had stuffed in there.

“Catherine, time is getting on if we’re to make dinner.” He reprimanded and I frowned at the door thinking he had only been stood out there not even a whole minute yet. I rolled my eyes before plastering on my smile and opening the door to find him stood there looking very dapper in his tux.