The Demon's Bride

Author’s Notes: I’m so sorry readers! Been really busy at work and had some – ahem – issues that needed to be addressed. Going to be focusing on this story until it is finished.

Chapter 12

Trish stared with disbelief as the age-old crow continued to cry out to her; screaming like it was a banshee in her native tongue. Never in her life had she seen or frankly heard a crow talk – a parrot, yes; but never a crow. Perhaps she was still dreaming; that would make more sense! Only in dreams does crazy things like talking crows existed! Then again, the creeper should only be a dream too – thought Trish bitterly to herself.

“Holy Lights! Death Seekers – run! Run!” screamed Gramps, flapping his wings wildly in the air.

“What the fuck are Holy Lights and Death Seekers?” snared Trish, feeling rather annoyed with the bird.

“Stupid girl!! RUN!!” shouted the crow, his voice sounding more human than before.

Trish couldn’t help but stare in confusion at the old, unkempt bird. At first the crow’s voice sounded inhuman and well, bird-like. She quickly realized this little feathery-creature was no mere bird, but what exactly was he? Trish took hold of her child and glanced over her shoulder; seeing the old, unkempt crow eyeing her with annoyance. What the hell was he – thought Trish?

“You’re no crow, are you?” asked Trish, holding onto Darry protectively in her arms.

“What gave it away?” spoke the crow.

“What are you? And… and how come you can talk?” asked Trish as she crept for the door.

“The Master said when the right opportunity arises, I have permission to speak. As for what I am, I am your guardian until he comes back.” He replied; lifting up a wing to ruffle up the feathers underneath.

Trish’s movement came to a halt when the crow spoke about his unnamed Master, feeling a sickening dread wash over her fragile body. Trish was no idiot, she knew the old crow meant the Creeper – but decided to pretend to act like she was unaware of the truth.

“What do you mean until he comes back? Who?” asked Trish nervously as she tried to sooth the whimpering Darry.

“You know him very well,” replied the crow, taking flight to reach the high dresser’s top. “After all, he is the father of Master Darius.”

Trish felt her heart sink as she glanced at her baby; little Darry looked so much like his father it broke her heart. Just thinking about the demon and all the suffering he cause her – she didn’t want to think of her son that way. But the words the Creeper spoke continued to haunt her. Trish silently wished that Darry would prove the demon; his Father wrong – she prayed for it.

“As for when he comes back; it will be in the end of his twenty-three year long slumber, Mistress.” Said Gramps; breaking Trish out of her thoughts.

“This… this has to be a dream…” spoke Trish to herself as she left the room with Darry in arms.

“It isn’t, stupid girl.” Said the old crow; following after her. “There are things in this world far beyond your mere mortal understandings…”

Trish shot a dirty look at the crow; not appreciating his snotty attitude towards her.

“Alright my feathery-friend; who are the Holy Light Death Seekers?” asked Trish, cradling her whimpering demon baby as she descended down the stairs.

“The Holy Lights AND the Death Seekers are after your son. Each has their own agendas with young Darry, none of them good.” Spoke the old crow, following after the young woman.

“Why do they want Darry?” asked Trish as she entered the kitchen; placing Darry into his chair.

Even though the boy was only five days old, he was already at the size of a one month old. The sight of her child’s size was unnatural for his age. Then again, he wasn’t the average baby; thought Trish to herself.

“Isn’t it obvious?” replied Gramps with annoyance laced in his voice.

“I know he isn’t a normal baby, but you still haven’t answered my question?” said Trish coldly.

“You don’t want to know,” replied Gramps; his voice equally cold as Trish’s.

“Whatever, they can’t have him!” said the young woman angrily, scowling at the old bird.

“Then leave this place, before they find you!” warned Gramps.

“And go where?” asked Trish, looking at the old grubby crow in anger. “If this place isn’t safe for Darry; then where is?”

“I… I do not know…?” spoke the crow – feeling defeated.

“You said you’re our guardian, right?” asked Trish – eyeing the bird with interest.

“Correct,”

“Then go find a safer place than this, Gramps.” Order Trish; folding her arms.

“As you wish then, Mistress.” Grumbled the old crow; “Oh and the name is Crawford – not Gramps!”

“You didn’t seem to mind before?” mumbled Trish tiredly as she went to open the small kitchen window for the crow. “Or was my little form of affection that touching?”

“I’ll be honest with you,” mumbled the crow, fluttering over to the window’s edge. “I’ve never been shown that kind of affection before.”

“So the Creeper doesn’t give you pets, uh?” spoke Trish kindly; reaching out to pet the old bird once more.

“Creeper?”

“You’re Master… The demon?” replied Trish as she absentmindedly stroked the bird’s feathers.

“Oh. The Master has been called many things, but never the creeper?” said Crawford; enjoying the stroking finger against his neck.

“Yeah well, the Creeper seems to be an appropriate name for him.” Mumbled Trish; “Well you better get going if these bad people are after us?”

“I shall return as quickly as these old wings can carry me, Mistress.” Mumbled the old crow; taking flight through the tiny window.

Trish watched as the old yet strange crow disappeared into the late afternoon sky. This day just had to start out weird, thought the young woman bitterly. At least things couldn’t get any worse? Suddenly the phone rang and Trish eyed the old-style phone curiously. Since this wasn’t her house, Trish wasn’t sure if she was allowed to answer the phone or not? Then again, maybe it was Jezelle calling up on her?

“Hello?” answered Trish.

“Hello Trisha,” spoke the familiar voice of Jezelle.

“Oh hey,” spoke Trish. “How are you?”

“I’m good… Just spend a night at a motel…” Jezelle sounded upset for some reason.

“Um, you okay?” asked Trish feeling curious.

“Trish… You need to get out of the house,” warned the older woman; causing Trish to cringed.

“Let me guess, you had a vision?” Trish couldn’t help but sigh in frustration.

“I know, I know – my dreams are never good but you have to listen to me!” begged Jezelle.

“Do I even have a choice?” Trish grumbled; not in the mood to hear another crazy vision from a crazy woman.

“Trish, I saw these people – wearing masks, deformed and twisted in nature.” Began Jezelle, fear laced within her voice. “Their clothes, all black and void of colour… They call themselves -”

“Death Seekers?” interrupted Trish.

“How did you know?” Jezelle was flabbergasted; surprised that Trish knew the enemy’s name.

“A little bird told me,” mocked Trish playfully; trying to ease the tension that was brewing.

“This is no laughing matter Trish! They killed you!” shouted Jezelle.

“Killed me? Don’t you mean they’re going to kill me?” Trish raised a curious brow.

“No! You died child!” shouted the older woman.

“What?” Trish felt her mouth go dry; suddenly feeling the nervous sensation running up her spine.

“They…. They killed you, took Darry and brought him to… to…” Jezelle started to cry; clearly upset from the nightmare she had.

“Jezelle?” spoke Trish sternly. “Don’t break down on me, tell me the rest!”

“There was this… creature… this living nightmare… I don’t know what it is, but it gave me the same chills the demon that took your brother did – but it seemed to be worse.”

“What the hell could be worse than the Creeper?” asked Trish; her facial features forming a glare.

“Trish, I know you think of me as some crazy old woman but you have to believe me!”

“I never said I didn’t believe you,” spoke Trish; feeling stress beginning to form. “But where can I go?”

“Um… Let me think…” Jezelle went quiet before speaking again. “Let me call you back when I think of a plan.”

“Sure,” sighed Trish as she heard the other woman hang up on her.

Well so much for things not getting worse.