The Change
Joshua glanced at Michelle as they walked out of the hospital hand in hand a week after the shooting. They had spent the last few nights deliberating what they would do after they left, and finally she convinced him to let her split up from his side to go with her inner ‘gut’. Joshua had refused and avoided it, but she had won him over, and he knew she was right. Pero wasn’t after her, Pero was after him and if he wasn’t with her, all the better.
Joshua glanced over at her and sighed. “So when will I see you again?” he asked, squeezing her hand and avoiding her startling eyes as they strode down the street. Michelle stopped, leadign him aside into a dark alley.
“Soon.” Is all her heard as s great darkness dropped over them, wisping her away before his eyes. He felt his heart drop as her warmth left him, the darkness brooding. On instinct, he stumbled backwards, and then the sunlight was back in full. Strange. This wasn’t the street he’d been on before. He was in the better side of the city now, somewhere Pero’s rein had never leeched out to. Somewhere he could wait out the next few nights in peace. Until Pero found him and sent his thug-buddies to retrieve him.
Michelle stepped through the Darkdoor, something she had only learned about recently in her dreams where the ‘Angel of Death’ himself had visited her. How could this portly elderly man be Death? She wondered, barely able to get out of his chair, quiet like the spring breeze. Or was it a fake weakness he used to lure victims in, victims deserving of their fate?
With a raspy voice, he waved his hand to bring her closer, not by any will of her own, foecing her to kneel beside the chair. “You have been chosen, by blood and blood before you,” he grated, making her look at him, his blank, listless eyes sending chills up her spine. “You are the Countess… of the Other side.” He explained.
She knew the family lore. Somewhere along the line, where fantasy and reality blurred the lines and spilled into one another, they had claimed the heritage of a single black angel, Camangelo. He was never referenced in other lore. She would be the last living relative, and now havign found her great uncle, though she did not know how or why, she’d come full circle and would become the second countess of the Black.
“Michelle, what do you know about Camangelo?” he asked, turning away from her.
“He… was a fairytale. It’s family lore, uncle, you should know.” She said, in little more than a whisper. The older man smiled.
“He was the most powerful angel of black, the patriarch of your – our- family, an incubus of great power. I am Camangelo.” He gritted, turning to her with a wide, wicked smile. “And I am nearing the end of my three century life. I have chosen you to carry on the greatest legacy.”
Michelle nearly dropped cold. Had it only been a fairytale? She had to believe the blackness in his eyes. “Cam-Camangelo? I am… I am to be…” she stuttered.
Camangelo nodded and stood, his body shivering violently. “Soon. Tonight, I believe. Come, come… time to pass the torch.” He said, his smile dimming. “I only regret that I have not the will to force you to the deed, it is your choice to take this gift.”
He explained, offering his hand to her. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t begin to comprehend this. She could refuse, and go back to a normal life but no, it was much too late for that. But what did this all mean? Oh, too little time, too many paths were there for her.
“What would… to become Countess of Black, what would be asked of me?” she asked in a soft tone. Camangelo’s smile expired.
“The child. Succubi cannot have children in the Black, only after your two-hundreth year may you choose a successor. You may not marry. You will not age until your three-hundred and eighty-eight year of life as Countess. You may not show yourself to goodly folk except to tell of serious impending doom, or to join past lovers. Daytime is forbidden to you, and your body will become ethereal.”
Michelle didn’t even feel the tears and the lump in her throat as she took her hand and determinedly nodded. She knew the powers of succubi were a great gift, and she knew that with them she might protect Joshua. But that he would never live to see her choose the successor.
That night, as Camangelo lay in the bed next to her, she felt the changes begin. His body turned to ashes and bones next to her, but she couldn’t notice through the agony. She groaned as she felt the aches in her bones and her flesh’s tingling as they became less than touchable. Soon, she could see that, through her tears, she couldn’t see herself showing up on the pool of water beside the bed. Until she willed herself to
As a scantilly clad maiden. She was no different, but her beauty had an exotic allure now. Even women would be sorely tempted by her in the many years to come.
Michelle turned to what was left of Camangelo’s body, whispering her thanks and smirking. Pero always had a soft spot for beautiful women, what might he do if his arch enemy’s wife to behold showed up nude at his bedside?
