HERITOR

“You are early,” Jean De Baptist’s rippling voice tore through the hollow crypt walls. His face illuminated by the bright yellow light that emanated from the transmutation circle he had fashioned from devils ash and a thousand year old corn mill, courtesy of the crone of the widows coven, deep in the Hayhay rainforest.

A shadow emerged and shaded a part of the illumination, casting webs and tendrils from its cloth as the flames from the candles wavered, bowing to the obsidian presence.

“I was still making preparations.” Jean De Baptist dug his finger in a half cut human skull, drew out dark goo and smudged on his jawline, accentuating his well-formed bone structure.

The shadow fully emerged from the circle, it’s cloak morphing into gigantic feet, as dark as sooth. His breath was deep and loud, almost a wheezing breeze of someone who just tasted life giving air for the first time. The shadow lifted its head and its hood fell, revealing his shallow coal red orbs that gaped in perpetual terror, its dirtied teeth, stained from feeding off carcasses from the pit from whence he came.

“I couldn’t hold myself, brother,” said the shadow, its fruity voice in sharp contrast to its gigantic form and revolting physique. “I saw the gate way open and I couldn’t be more patient than I have been for the last forty years in that shit hole.”

The shadow cast away all his soothy raiment and took a sit besides Jean De Baptist. The raffia bamboo chair creaked, accommodating the giant.

Dammit, Jean De Baptist cursed to himself. I’m not ready. He cleared his throat to mask his uneasiness with the presence. He needed more time to make his move and the dumb fucker had ruined it.

“That was your weakness always, Kalfu, “ Jean De Baptist said, after a few moments of thought, rattling his head and clanking the rows of jewellery he’d fashioned from old bones from the family graveyard. “You have always been an impatient being and that’s what sent you to the catacombs of hell before your time was due in the first place.”

Kalfu sighed and gazed around the sandstone walls, laden with glyphs and fetishes.

“In my absence, I can see that in your quest for power you have delved into the impermissible, “ He rasped and traced the contours of an immortal sigil, sparks, emanating from his finger tips, his body gaining more strength with each passing second.

“Your powers are coming back.” Jean De Baptist observed uncomfortably.

“You know what that means?” Kalfu tilted his head to one side as his red eyes began dim, giving him a more human demeanour.

“Yes, yes. It is my turn to serve mother in Abadden.” Jean De Baptist coursed his hands on his ashen dread locks. “Forty years, hein?” He questioned in deep thought. “What was it like?”

“I’m afraid you are going to find out for yourself, brother,” Kalfu spat the words with bitterness and impatience radiating from his trembling hands.

“Well, there is a little problem.” Jean De Baptist sneered and rose from his seat, adjusting his dark suit with tails.

The horned viper in his hat emerged and wrung itself on his arm and Jean De Baptist began to chant, “Par toi même, Papa Kalfu, par...” his voice grew heavy and his eye irises bled into his eye whites, his skin began to grey and the serpents crept from the ceiling and rallied as he called, bowing before him. “Vien Papa Faygatee, tu vien à mon aide,”

Kalfu whimpered and fell on his knees, gripping his stomach that began to churn and spiral as though a storm brewed inside of him.

“Stop, my brother.” he coughed, his eyes and nose running with blood. “You promised... You promised.” He staggered and gazed as Jean De Baptist donned a new habit. “No!” He shook his head and whimpered. “You...skin walker... murderer.” He wheezed in shock. “What did you do? What did you sacrifice? What did you do?” His wails reverberated on the cave walls causing a tremble.

“Yes, Kalfu.” Jean De Baptist now stood as a parody version of their father. He now appeared as a horned head red devil with fangs bleeding crimson, talons as sharp as the dragons tooth. Rejected demons from hell bowed at his feet, waiting to do his bidding. “Indeed, I had to sacrifice father. Ultimate power demans the ultimate sacrifice.” His crackle filled the crypt and his minions chorused.

Kalfu staggered backwards in fear, clutching his chest. Then he swallowed his pain and new found strength ate through his fright. He held his hands outstretched and rows of ancestors stood in his view. He waved his hand and they stood in formation, a shield against every evil.

“I’ve tamed quite a few relatives and gained some few tricks as well.” Kalfu forced a half smile. “You are well matched.”

“You dare? You empty headed vermin.” Jean De Baptist, croaked, spitting arrows from his mouth, they dematerialized as the first row of altruistic ancestors sacrificed themselves for their Kalfu, dissipating with loud wails.

Jean De Baptist stood in bewilderment, woke up from his shock and conjured fiery heads of dragon spirits. They opened their mouthes and ate through the last shield of ancestors. It bought enough time for Kalfu who swiftly skidded with a cheetahs grace and bound Jean De Baptist’s form with a sacred periapt he’d gained as favour from the demon sublord, Adas.

Jean De Baptist stood maimed, watching in bewilderment as Kalfu fashioned a new transmutation circle. It turned bright green and Kalfu pushed Jean De Baptist inside. The circle suctioned him within its core and the ground ate Jean. His earthly power crumbled as did his serpents and minions. All that was left was a wailing infant, naked, squirming in the smoking ashy circle. Kalfu marched forward, his breath deep and his eyes serious. He scooped the infant and bared his teeth. “Now, Jean, my brother dear,” he caressed the infants cheek. “You will be lording in hell when I am through raising you to be the man mother always wanted to be.” He suckled his teeth. “Hah! The price of cowardice.”

Then, he wrapped, the infant in his cloak, spun in a tornado he conjured and disappeared with a Puff.