Ancient Exhumations +2 Read online

  With less force than previously, Brachamashoot introduced himself and complimented Martin on his insight. It assured Martin that it meant him no harm, reminding him that the summoner was the master of the summoned, not vice versa. Brachamashoot apologized for the excessive force of its initial communication, an error it would not repeat. If Martin would simply state both of his wishes aloud, the demon assured him, they would gladly be granted.

  Faced with such important decisions in the midst of such an unexpected and unimaginable situation, Martin hesitated, recalling stories he had heard and read as a child about unscrupulous geniis. Yet, despite his uncertainty, he was sorely tempted to test the abilities of the demon.

  In less than a month, Martin planned to improve his social standing through marriage, so he dared not wish for anything that would endanger that situation. His wishes must be carefully defined, not vaguely or hastily stated, just in case he was not dreaming after all.

  With forced resolve, Martin put aside his doubts; he knew what he wanted most, and he asked for it. “I want to be financially comfortable and secure for the rest of my life. Not excessively rich, as I’d hate to explain the source of the money to the I.R.S., just quite well off. The money must all be legally obtained, tax free, and mine exclusively to use as I wish.” He ended with a broad, self-assured smile, convinced the addition of the final specifications was a stroke of genius.

  The confident wisher stared patiently at the demon, now a boiling ball of color suspended in the air just a few feet from his desk. The colors deepened, then intensified, expanding without warning into a tidal wave of brilliantly tinted flame. The room was suddenly flooded with a blinding spectral inundation, at the very center of which, floated Brachamashoot’s disembodied eyes.

  Martin automatically raised his arms to protect his face from the multihued mass that engulfed him. Moments later, he lowered them cautiously as his surroundings returned to normal. The demon withdrew, receding until its previous, more acceptable proportions were resumed.

  Reacting to a sudden discomfort, Martin reached down and plucked his wallet from his back pocket. He opened it timidly, hardly daring to speculate on the uncharacteristic bulkiness of the thing. To his surprise and wonder, the wallet was jammed full of hundred dollar bills.

  He stared blankly at the cash, unsettled by the unwarranted concern for wealth that he sensed in himself. Money had never been a problem for him at all. His investments always did well, and he would soon be entitled to the whole of the sizable trust his Aunt … — how could he forget her name? — had established exclusively for his benefit decades ago.

  Then it struck him. Why, he had no aunts and beyond that, he had never had enough money to make an investment! Confused, he tried to sort through his memories for the truth until it dawned on him that this was the demon’s doing. It had manipulated reality itself, altering both the past and the present as a means of fulfilling the wish! How wonderful!

  Calming, Martin reminded himself that a second “boon” still awaited formulation. His second, and last, wish should involve Ellen, his bride to be. Even with money of his own, he still needed her. Sweet Ellen, she would be more of an acquisition than a mate; her real desirability lay in her ability to usher him into the upper echelons of society that had previously been quite inaccessible to him, a poverty-stricken nobody with a graduate degree in an impractical branch of linguistics.

  It was vital that he tie Ellen to him permanently, so that she could not abandon him even if she should come to realize he was only using her. He grappled with his thoughts, trying to state his intentions appropriately.

  “My second wish is that after Ellen and I are married — and we absolutely must be married — we will never be apart for long. If she should ever try to leave me for any reason whatsoever, I will go to her and she will take me back.” Although the wish had been stated hastily, he felt fairly confident about its wording. As long as he could feel sure Ellen would never abandon him, then everything would work out just fine.

  Martin prepared himself for a second deluge of brilliant color, only to be disappointed. After a moment, he decided that directing the future was easier, not to mention less dramatic, for the demon than restructuring the past. Having fared so well, Martin decided he had better quit while he was still ahead. He boldly announced, “I assume both my boons have been granted,” then, as a precaution, he added, “Respond ONLY if I am mistaken.” Nothing slammed even lightly into his head. Considering their interaction concluded, he rose from his seat, faced the insubstantial cloud before him, and said, “Okay, then we’re finished. You may go now.”

  The roiling sphere remained completely unchanged as it continued to hover silently in the air.

  “Oh, I forgot!” Martin blurted out. Glancing down at the translated text on the desk, he recited the summoning word a second time in order to dismiss the now-superfluous demon. As the tone of the final syllable dissolved into the air, the demonic manifestation followed suit, the eerie set of eyes lingering only a few seconds longer than the rest.

  Pleased with himself, though still not one-hundred percent convinced he was not dreaming, the exhausted linguist packed up his documents and left the office. On his way out, he stopped by Waltham’s office briefly to leave the professor a copy of the day’s translations.

  In the days that followed, the money rolled in and no one else seemed to notice the past had been tampered with in any way, all of which made it easier for Martin to accept the reality of his bizarre experience. The very next day, while visiting his parents, he had decided to test Brachamashoot’s reliability by making a casual reference to his aunt, whose name turned out to be Alice. His parents had not only been familiar with this recently-created woman, but his father had actually demonstrated a certain amount of resentment toward Martin as the sole beneficiary of his sister Alice’s trust fund. It was incredible, illogical, and maddening at times, but he loved it. He relished knowing something no one else would ever know, something important; it gave him a growing sense of power. Sure, the demon was the one with the power, at least technically speaking, but it was Martin who had called the little devil out of a two thousand year limbo and given it instructions! Without Martin, the demon was a real nothing and nobody!

  It was Ellen who was most affected by the change in Martin’s personality. The reserved, easy-going man she had come to love transformed in a very short time into an overbearing, boorish extrovert. He dismissed her attempts to discover the reason for his sudden transformation, and persistence only elicited his anger. She finally convinced herself that the pressure of the upcoming marriage was the source of his problem; Martin would surely return to normal once they settled down together in his lovely home.

  Professor Waltham found Martin’s prideful new persona quite insufferable. He decided the indispensable young man had been working too hard, so as a wedding present, he allowed Martin a week off with half-pay for his honeymoon. Surely the young linguist would feel more like his old self after a few days’ rest; in the meantime, Waltham would simply avoid any unnecessary contact with him.

  The wedding took place just three weeks after Martin’s encounter with the demon. By that time, most of his friends felt disinclined to attend the festivities, and some actually refused the invitation. Luckily, enough family members and friends of the bride were in attendance to prevent the church from appearing too empty.

  Despite the misgivings of some guests, it was generally agreed that the wedding went well. Still, a few guests seated near the front of the church later claimed the groom had emitted an inappropriate gasp as he raised the bridal veil, although they admitted he might simply have been overcome by the beauty of his lovely new bride.

  Martin kept his fearful suspicions to himself throughout the balance of the wedding. He could not completely rid himself of the notion that he had seen the fleeting image of a dark cloud in Ellen’s eyes just as he lifted her veil. It could only be imagination, he scolded himself, a result of nuptial day tension.
It was not until later, when he and Ellen were alone, that his worst fears were confirmed.

  After the wedding, the newlyweds stopped off at Martin’s home to change and collect their luggage on the way to the airport. Once there, however, the plans for a honeymoon trip to Niagara Falls were ignored. Although Martin had been Ellen’s lover for some time, both were suddenly overcome by a relentless desire to consummate the marriage. Before they knew it, they were locked in passionate embrace.

  Martin was shocked to find that Ellen, usually a boorishly unexceptional lover, had suddenly become an exciting wildwoman. With Ellen in control, their lovemaking entered the realm of crazed sex. She taunted and teased him with the savagery of a she-beast, accepting nothing less than total satisfaction. Their ecstatic, obsessive grappling completely overrode the intuitive alarm that tried to warn Martin that something was wrong.

  Ellen launched into an incredible stream of orgasms, boosting Martin’s already inflated ego with lavish praises of his sexual prowess. He found it strangely exciting to taste the sweat — his own — that trickled down his upturned face and into his mouth. When it dawned on him that they were actually participating in nothing more companioned masturbation, he looked to his new bride, curious to see if she shared his revelation; her eyes remained closed, clenched in ecstasy. Irresistibly drawn to her once more, he dismissed such thoughts as he bent to kiss her.

  An instant later, he began screaming and whimpering like a terrified child as he wrenched his body away from Ellen’s. He tumbled from the bed to the floor, afraid to take his eyes off the source of his horror and disgust. He clumsily propelled himself further away, stopping only when his naked back slammed abruptly against the far wall.

  He watched his bride rise up leisurely from the bed, smiling in amusement at the antics of her distraught lover; she beckoned enticingly for him to return to her. Martin might have given in, might have decided he had been fooled by some trick of the dim shadowy light, had not two small serpents still remained entwined about her mouth, reveling in the moisture that they found there.

  Martin closed his eyes in revulsion, clenching them tightly as he crawled blindly toward the hall on quivering hands and knees. He banged into the door, maneuvered around it, and flung himself out into the hallway, slamming the bedroom door behind him and bracing it with both feet. Ellen called sweetly to him from the other side of the door, a siren doing her best to lure her confused Ulysses back into her inhuman clutches. Martin eventually nodded off after barricading himself against the door with as much of his body weight as possible.

  At dawn he awoke, dressed himself hastily in dirty clothes he fished from the hamper, then fled the house. Martin no longer wondered if he was dreaming; he prayed he would wake up.

  Martin had no idea where he should go, but he knew his body craved sleep, the ultimate escape. Once he had put several miles between him and the thing in his bed, Martin felt secure enough to rent a room at a cheap, anonymous roadside motel.

  Once alone in the room, he threw his weary body upon the unfamiliar bed, which greeted him with a refreshingly cool sterility. The tension and fear drained slowly from every part of him, but his mind resisted his unwillingness to think about what he had so recently seen and done. He had never thought of himself as the heroic type, but the cowardice he had shown in running away struck him as shameful. Sleep came only after he convinced himself that he had not just run away in fear, leaving his helpless wife to fend for herself; he left because he had needed time to think, to understand the situation before making any rash decisions. He would go back and do whatever was necessary, but first he needed to rest and piece it all together.

  Yet in sleep he found no rest. His mind kept working on the problem, continuously replaying the events of the previous day and night. He relived his memories of the wedding, this time easily recognizing the dark eyes of Brachamashoot superimposed over Ellen’s when he lifted the veil, and later in bed. But how could it be? He had dismissed the demon long before, and it could not come back … unless … He considered the timing of events; the wedding had taken place twenty, no, twenty-seven days after his experience with the demon. The book had clearly warned the reader not to repeat the summoning word before twenty-eight days, one full cycle of the moon goddess Mah, had elapsed.

  He had not said it again. He had taken great care to avoid even thinking it! The wedding, the answer had to be there. He tried to recall every detail, searching for something he had overlooked. As he recreated the actual ceremony, it suddenly came to him. It was so obvious that he could barely believe it. Of course, he had not said the summoning word itself, but he had said words that sounded so very similar that he might as well have said the real thing. He said “I do,” which, when spoken quickly, sounds exactly like “Aiyedeuh.” Everything was fine until he said those two words, the two little words that they say all men fear. If they only knew! He had needed no demon to trick him; he was quite capable of tricking himself!

  The rest of the warning came back to him as he jumped out of bed, fully awake: “The Word must not be intoned thereafter for a full Cycle of Mah lest the Person nearest to the Magus be afflicted with malefic Possession; …” After lying dormant for countless centuries, the demon must have jumped at the opportunity to take possession of dear, unsuspecting little Ellen.

  Martin berated himself for his own naivety, his overblown self-confidence. How could he be so stupid as to think he could match wits with a disembodied evil spirit that was thousands of years old? He did not feel optimistic about his chances of outmaneuvering the damned thing now, but it was either that or resign himself to a literally hellish future.

  Less than two hours later, Ellen knocked at the door of his motel room.

  She had dismissed her cab and headed directly to his room, not bothering to inquire as to its whereabouts at the office. She reminded Martin of a dog following a scent. There was really very little he could do but return to the house with her.

  Once in the car, the thing nestled deeply behind Ellen’s eyes announced its presence, utilizing Ellen’s mental faculties to speak to him in perfect English. As Martin had suspected, Brachamashoot had taken possession of the new bride and had every intention of retaining that hold permanently.

  Repressing his fear for the time being, Martin asked Brachamashoot how he had located him so easily, only to have the demon remind him of his second wish that he and Ellen could never be separated for long.

  The anxious groom, only mildly concerned about Ellen’s welfare, demanded to know the purpose behind the possession.

  Brachamashoot smiled pleasantly through Ellen’s features. “If I am to experience physical pleasures,” he began, “I require a physical body.”

  Martin tried to interject, but Brachamashoot interrupted him. “Although you don’t seem very concerned about your lovely bride, I feel obligated to tell you she is totally oblivious to my presence and will be permitted to return from time to time when needed.” He paused. “Oh, don’t frown so. It isn’t as if you truly cared for her — or anyone other than yourself for that matter.”

  When Martin gave no reply, the demon impersonated Ellen’s coquettish manner as he whispered, “You will find my presence less repugnant when you realize I can make it possible for you to realize many of your fondest dreams.”

  Upon their return, Brachamashoot outlined his plans for the “three” of them. Although he controlled Ellen’s body, the demon was quite aware that he would not be able to imitate her personality convincingly enough to fool those who knew her well. Whenever such situations arose, he would simply allow Ellen to emerge. Brachamashoot assured Martin that she would remain totally unaware of the demonic cohabitation, although she would experience regular lapses of memory.

  When Martin expressed concern that Ellen might seek professional help to regain her memory, Brachamashoot assured him Ellen would never willingly seek professional help. While browsing among some of the more repressed areas of Ellen’s mind, Brachamashoot had discovered El
len’s most secret shame; her mother was not dead, as everyone outside the immediate family had been led to believe — in truth, she was alive but not really well in a very private mental institution on the continent. Ellen’s worst fear was that she had inherited similar neurotic tendencies, Brachamashoot confided to Martin, so she would never seek any type of therapy that might confirm her suspicions.

  In the meantime, Brachamashoot would use his special abilities to his and Martin’s mutual benefit. They would both have everything they wanted.

  While the demon rambled on, Martin considered the various advantages that such a situation might provide. Having always been attracted to more hedonistic lifestyles, he found this opportunity to live out his fantasies rather enticing. Together, he and this kindred spirit could explore the worlds of drugs and alcohol, debauchery, and every sort of depravity and perversion! Best of all, with Brachamashoot’s incredible powers, he would never suffer any unhappy consequences as a result of even the most abominably sinful behavior!

  Excited anticipation slowly replaced the fear and loathing Martin had initially felt towards the demon. He recognized that he and Brachamashoot were alike in some ways, and Brachamashoot provided him immunity no matter what he may do. While Martin had always been afraid to explore alone and unprotected, now he could do anything he pleased and still retain his wealth and status in the community. With Ellen under control, the outside world would see him as the perfect husband in a fairytale marriage. It was just too perfect, he thought as he returned the demon’s facetious grin.