Soul Crafter

Chapter Eleven: Melek

24 hours earlier, far in the north.

Melek Amos, with a large bucket of paint in one gloved hand, walked through the snow in his brown work boots. Unlike his usual business attire, he was wearing thick jeans and a shabby black coat. He made his way through the trees until he came upon a small opening in a wooded area. Before him was an old, abandoned cottage. He passed by barren trees as he approached the house— the beams supporting the porch roof were splintering, one of which was broken clean in half. There were tiles missing on the roof, which were mainly covered in black-green gunk. Melek walked up the front steps and opened the door.

     He stepped inside. With each step, the dry floorboards creaked and kicked up several years worth of dust. The wallpaper inside was mostly disintegrated, revealing torn up and smashed drywall. There were a couple of beer cans on the floor, probably from a squatter or some punk kids having fun. The crushed cans looked like they’d been there for quite some time. He was sure no one would interrupt him.

     “If they do, I’ll just kill them,” Melek thought. 

     He set his bucket of paint down and took out a screwdriver from his pocket. He proceeded to open the huge bucket, bending the lid enough for him to pull it off. Melek then set down his tool and pulled out an old pocketknife. He held his left hand over the bucket of paint and sliced open his hand and made sure the wound was nice and deep. He barely even noticed the pain, as if he’d done this so many times, it no longer surprised him. 

     Blood gushed out of his hand into the bucket of red paint. He squeezed his hand as the flow weakened. He then hovered his right hand over his wounded one; a gentle glow appeared and slowly closed the wound until there was nothing left but a tender looking scar with fresh skin.

     He looked down at the bucket of bloody paint, brought both of his hands together just above it, and began to chant in a deep, breathy voice. 

     “Above my head, and below my feet, guard my soul, and all those whom I keep,” he kept repeating the words over and over again until it sounded like even the wind was speaking with him, echoing his words, some of them sounding like whispers. The whispering voices continued underneath the sound of his, and the paint began to swirl, mixing all of the blood and paint together. The paint then rose out of the bucket and into the air; a swirling mass of red began to flail out like ribbons all around him and the room. With a final, booming command from Melek’s augmented voice, all of the paint began to move all over the house, slowly covering each wall in crimson red.

     Now, he was ready for the next phase of his plan. With his blood now coating the walls of the house, there was no way that Victor would ever be able to find him, or her.

     The present. 

     “M-Melek?” Michelle repeated, looking to Victor who she noticed was now seething.

     It was the very man that Victor had warned her about— the warlock with abilities who had hurt Victor, and had kidnapped her and her friends.

     “What do you want?” Victor growled, his hand clenched into a fist.

     “You shouldn’t be here,” Michelle trembled.

     Chris took a good look at him and then his eyes widened. 

     “Wait, I know you, you’re the guy I saw in that strange trip we all had.” 

     “I see my reputation precedes me,” Melek said in his posh accent.

   “What’s going on?” Bianca asked, picking up on the general hostility around her. 

   Just then, Victor stood up and grabbed a knife from the dining table— ready to get rid of Melek right there and then. 

   “Ah, ah, ah!” Melek waved his finger disapprovingly. “I wouldn’t do that, unless you want something terrible to happen to miss Michelle Gilder over here,” Melek threatened.

   Victor’s eyes turned to slits. “What the hell are you talking about?”

    “What I mean is, my lovely little helper here,” he gestured to Bianca who flushed, “put something in Michelle’s drink,” he finished, smiling at Bianca, as if she was a good pet.

     “Once she drank her champagne, it got into her system and even now as we speak its working its     magic,” Melek smirked at Victor. “You don’t want her to get hurt, do you?”

     Victor dug his sharp nails into the table and growled at Melek. Chris looked at him in bewilderment.

     “If I wanted, I could easily make her braindead. I don’t need her intelligent for what I have in mind,” Melek warned.

     Michelle’s heart was racing. “What did you put inside of me?”

     Victor barred his teeth, ready to jump Melek at any minute and rip him to shreds.

     “What? What did you do to Michelle?” Chris asked his sister.

Melek held his hand up to silence them.

“Please, everyone, be seated and quiet.”

     Begrudgingly, Victor did as he was told and sat down. He knew better than to mess with Melek when it concerned Michelle. He was trying to put together how Bianca knew Melek, and how he hadn’t smelled him on her sooner.

     The waiters appeared through the double doors and brought plates of hot food to serve all the guests. They arrived at their table and each of them got a plate of lamb chops with wine sauce and a side of asparagus.

     Melek, with a triumphant smile, looked at Victor and Michelle’s horrified and angry expressions.

     “Eat,” he commanded. He placed his napkin on his legs, picked up his knife and fork and began cutting into the lamb. “You see, Victor, this is how you’re meant to use the knife, not brandish it at me like some sort of savage.”

     Melek gestured to them to pick up their eating utensils, and they did so, awkwardly cutting into their dinner.

     “Tell me, Michelle, did Victor tell you the truth about yourself?” Melek asked, taking a big bite.

     “That’s it, I’m getting help,” Chris blurted, getting out of his chair.

     “SIT!” Melek commanded, flicking his hand in Chris’s direction. Chris compulsively sat down. “And if you know what’s good for you, you will keep your mouth shut.”

     Chris, still wondering how Melek had made him sit down, opened his mouth to protest.

     “Bianca, be a dear and pick up your steak knife and point it at your throat,” Melek ordered. Bianca did as she was told and aimed a sharp knife at her neck.

     “Bianca, what are you doing?!” Michelle exclaimed.

     “Bianca, if Chris utters another word while I’m here, stab yourself in the neck,” Melek clarified for her.

     Everyone watched, horrified at what he was making Bianca do.

     “Make sure you cut real deep, too,” Melek added.

     “What the hell is wrong with you?!” Michelle exclaimed.

     “Shh, let me talk,” Melek said in a mock, gentle tone.  Victor seethed where he sat, feeling like a dog with a muzzle on. Chris opened his mouth again but thought better of it and remained silent.

     “Good then,” Melek said. “Please, eat,” he said, pointing a knife at Victor and Michelle’s plates.

     “What were you talking about? Did Victor tell me what?” Michelle asked, her hand trembling as she took a small bite of her lamb.

     “Ah, yes, so glad you reminded me. I take it he hasn’t told you then,” Melek said, chuckling gleefully at Victor. “Why haven’t you?” he asked.

     “She wasn’t ready,” Victor replied through gritted teeth.

     “I don’t think that’s true. I think you just didn’t what her to run away from you,” Melek corrected, his dark eyes boring into Victor’s blue eyes.

     Michelle scowled. “What are you two talking about?” She demanded.

     Melek sipped his champagne before replying.

     “My dear, lovely Michelle Gilder, you are, in fact, not exactly made like the rest of the little boys and girls in the world. You weren’t even made like me and Victor. You see, he and I used to actually have parents, too— a long, long time ago at least.” 

     “What do you mean by that? Not made like the rest?” Michelle repeated, shaking so much now she had to  put her fork down and hold both her hands together. It was as if some part of her could feel the truth coming— a terrible truth.

     “I’ll get to that. You see, me, I used to be a hunter. I hunted vampires, demons, werewolves, malevolent fairies. I used to remove evil possessions within children. Little did I know that each time I did that, a piece of my life was taken from me. Pieces I could not get back,” Melek explained, a forlorn look in his eyes.

     “Until, one day, I was hollowed out enough that other beings, other demonic souls could come live inside of me. I was weak, of course. I couldn’t fight them. There was no one to save me or help me, and they just became part of me. We all merged into one. “

     “A mere mortal is not meant to be able to do what you were doing,” Victor interjected. “Of course, that was bound to happen.”

     Melek smiled serenely.

     “Yes, but it lead to so many other wonderful things,” Melek reminisced.

     “Like using me and betraying me,” Victor added bitterly.

     “You know as well as I do that I needed to learn some of your abilities if I was to survive,” Melek said.

     “What do you mean he betrayed you and used you?” Michelle asked.

     Victor answered before Melek got the chance.

     “He found me, the thing he hated and hunted, to be the only one capable of helping him. He acted so pitiful back then that I took him in.”

     “It was your fault for believing me,” Melek added, taking another bite of his dinner. “After all, I was mainly demonic by then.”

     “Your human soul was already enough to make you deceitful, I’m sure,” Victor spat.

     Meanwhile, Chris looked at them as if they’d all come straight from the asylum.

     “He learned from me and took some of my abilities— and once he tasted that power, he wanted more,” Victor explained hatefully.

     “And now I want something else from you, something precious,” Melek gestured to Michelle. 

     “Why do you even want me?” Michelle asked. “And what were you saying about me earlier?”

     Melek smiled. 

     “You, my dear, are in fact, a golem.”