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Authors: Richard B. Dwyer

BOOK: The Demon Pool
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chapter sixteen

Kat woke slowly. She stretched. It was a long, sensuous
movement that allowed the cool sheets to caress her nude body and arouse her.
She smiled.

She felt more erotic and more powerful than she
could ever remember. As the sheets made love to her skin, she closed her eyes
and let her hand drift down her body, feeling for that secret, private, dirty
place that her mother told her it was sinful to touch. Kat did not worry about
sin anymore.

In the cool softness of the sheets, she drifted,
floating across a sea of self-induced pleasure. Soft strokes quickened into
frantic rubbing. Ripples of sensuality became waves that emanated from the
center of her body, growing in size and power until they broke over her mind,
crashing down on the pleasure center of her brain. Wave after wave after wave.
Kat shook and trembled violently until finally relaxing into quiet rest,
needing to catch her breath, to separate herself from the overwhelming pleasure
she had experienced.

Kat opened her eyes. She stretched again, more
cautiously this time, a bit more reserved. Another orgasm like the one she just
had and she might not even be able to walk. She spent a moment reflecting on
recent events. Something new had entered her world. Had apparently entered her.
A transforming spirit. The spirit of magick creating a new Kat. A powerful,
erotic Kat who would finally have everything she wanted.

It had to be the influence of the magick working
inside her — in her body, in her mind, and in her spirit — something breathing
new life into her dog-eat-dog existence, and she welcomed it. She closed her
eyes again. A voice from deep within her mind whispered dark secrets. She
listened carefully.

“Open your mind to me,” it said
.

The voice commanded, Kat obeyed. Kat gave in to
it, allowed it to flow into the deepest regions of her psyche, to penetrate and
probe her subconscious. It offered irresistible seduction. Her hands busied
themselves again and the waves rose up once more.

Exhausted and drained, Kat drifted back to sleep
and she dreamt. Old dreams. Dark dreams. Someone else’s dreams. A phone rang,
thrusting hard reality into the chimera of her nightmarish visions. It did not
make sense. Phones did not exist where Kat’s dreams had taken her. The ringing
continued and she drifted away from the dreams, finally yielding to conscious
reality.

She opened her eyes. The ringing was coming from
somewhere off to the side. She rolled over to her right and located the phone
where it sat on the antique table next to the bed. She reached for it,
half-crawling toward the bed’s edge. She fumbled with the handset, finally dragging
it to her ear, her voice unusually soft as she answered.

“Hello?”

“Kat, it’s Bruce.”

“Hey, baby. You heading down here soon? I could
use you right now.”

The briefest pause. Then Bruce spoke again.

“I can’t, damn it. They’re keeping us here over
the weekend.”

Bruce’s anguish told Kat that his whole weekend
had turned to total crap.
Poor Bruce
.

“I can’t get back until Monday. This sucks.”

The little-boy whine saturated Bruce’s voice. Kat
wondered if there had ever been a time in Bruce’s life when he had been a real
man.
Probably not
.

“Can you pick me up at the airport on Monday? My
plane arrives at 9:53 in the morning.”

Kat stretched again. She purred.

“That’s awful early, baby. Don’t they have
taxis?”

Kat’s body relished the luxurious feel of the
king bed. If she went back to Tampa Saturday afternoon, she could spend the
morning on the beach and work at the club Saturday and Sunday nights. She could
have two paydays this weekend and still enjoy a couple days in Naples. She
would check out of the hotel by phone on Sunday, letting Bruce pay for the
entire weekend.
What Bruce doesn’t know can’t hurt me.

Although she would never trade sex for cash, Kat
had given Bruce what he wanted at the pool. They had a relationship. No one
could call it prostitution. However, now, she would take what she wanted. Bruce
was saying something about needing his car all day on Monday. Kat cut in.

“Baby, it’s ok. I’ll drive back to Tampa on
Sunday. I’m just sorry you can’t be here with me.”

Another slight hesitation before Bruce replied.

“Are you sure you want to stay down there all
alone?”

Bruce would be unhappy about paying for a good
time that he was going to miss.
Too bad, Bruce. No refunds, no returns.

“Baby, I’ve already called in and they already
scheduled one of the other girls to cover my shifts. I’ll be OK and I promise
to spend the whole weekend thinking about nothing but you.”
Yeah, right.

Resignation supplemented Bruce’s whine.

“Alright, I guess you deserve a little time off.
You stay in Naples until Sunday. Get some sun. Just don’t be late picking me up
on Monday.” Bruce paused. “I miss you, Kat.” Another pause. “I love you.”

Kat smiled a wry smile that, fortunately, Bruce
could not see. Her voice stayed soft.

“I know, baby. I’ll pick you up Monday, on time.”
Then I start sucking you dry.

“Okay.” Bruce squeaked. “I love you.”

He sounded pathetic.

“See you soon, baby. Bye.”

Kat hung up, not waiting for Bruce’s reply. She
stretched again and let her hands run along her tight, hard body. Kat had never
felt so sensual, so aware of herself. Her hands took on a life of their own,
and, again, she surrendered to them. Someone had once told her that good things
always came in threes.

***

Pleasure. Warmth and pleasure.

Baalzaric guided Kat’s hands a third time until, once
again, she lost herself in the erotic joy of her own body. Soon Baalzaric would
guide Kat to the next phase of his plan. But, for the moment, he found himself
content with warmth and pleasure.

Chapter seventeen

 

The weakness, unwarranted pride, and general
selfishness of human beings had always amazed Baalzaric. God could not possibly
have created a more inferior product. No wonder Lucifer and a host of lesser
angels had rebelled.

Of course, humanity’s negative traits were the
main characteristics that had allowed Baalzaric to succeed and flourish over
the centuries since the great rain. Yet, for all their weaknesses, mankind’s
flesh was a source of physical pleasure, and for a disembodied spirit, flesh
was the one thing that made humans marginally worthwhile.

Baalzaric lived for the physical pleasures of a
flesh and bone body. The mind, body, and spirit of Kat Connors manifested those
pleasures perfectly. As God himself had said at the beginning of creation, it
was very good.

***

Kat drove the Viper north toward Ft. Myers. Her two
days on the beach in Naples had been exquisite. Men literally tripped and fell
down watching her stroll along the sand in her new South Beach bikini. She had
chosen a gold strapless bandeau top and a skimpy, tie-side bottom that
accentuated her fit and firm figure. She had also purchased a mesh wrap, new
sandals, and a complete second outfit — another bikini, wrap, and sandals — in
case she got bored with the first one.

Kat charged the purchase to her room at the Colony
House. The sales girl at the trendy shop was more than happy to accommodate
her, especially as her total purchase exceeded five hundred dollars.
If
Bruce really loves me, he won’t say shit when he sees the bill.

She had also spent two nights — scorching erotic
nights — in the hottest clubs in Naples, mingling, drinking, and dancing with
the pretty people, both young locals and well-heeled tourists. However, early
each morning, she chose to go back to the Colony House alone. She had offers,
from both men and women, and a strong feeling deep inside her psyche urged her
to give in to her sexual desires, but she was able to resist, at least this
time. She knew the risks of anonymous, impersonal sex. Doing Bruce in the grass
next to the pool had been an anomaly. So, each night, she made the wise choice
to return to the hotel and settled for taking care of her needs herself. Now
that the party had ended in Naples, Kat’s most pressing need was for candle
magick supplies.

The Viper got her to Ft. Myers quickly. A
goth-rock station and her inner musings about her experience with magick had
shortened the drive to what seemed like mere minutes.

She had entertained doubts about magick at first.
Doubts about the common sense of trying to use something that most people
probably thought of as hocus-pocus. After all, she was more than just a
drug-and-alcohol-addled dancer. She had earned an associate’s degree in
biological sciences, and worked full-time as a laboratory technician in one of
Florida’s top genetic research facilities. Was it even rational to believe in
magick?

She left I-75 and followed the busy surface
streets to The Candle and Wind Wicca and Witchcraft store, which sat in a
rundown strip mall anchored by a tattoo studio, Sinister Markings, and
mom-and-pop tourist traps.

According to her fellow dancer, The Candle and
Wind carried the most varied stock of magick candles and supplies in Florida,
making it worth the drive to Ft. Myers. In a breathless voice that resembled
some kind of worship, the woman shared with Kat that the owner had a reputation
of being some kind of super-witch. Not that it mattered to Kat. Worshiping
someone or something did not interest her. Being worshiped, however, was in
intriguing prospect.

Kat pulled into the parking lot. She passed two
custom, v-twin choppers and a beat-to-shit hippie van straight out of 1968.
Stickers promoting anarchy, political and environmental messages, and hard rock
radio stations plastered the van’s rear doors. The vanity license plate attached
to the van read STRSHP69. She parked next to the van.

The custom choppers, the beat-to-shit van and the
Viper were the only vehicles parked in front of the strip mall. That left the
Viper somewhat exposed to vehicles driving by, but Kat was sure no one around
Ft. Myers would attach any significance to it. It was not unusual to see the
expensive cars of Florida’s nouveau riche Technorati parked between the working
class vehicles of the common Floridian and the conservative luxury cars of the
retired geriatrics.

On the night of the accident, Kat had blown by the
old construction truck, lumbering ahead of Briggs’ Corvette so fast, she was
sure no one in the truck would have had time to identify the Viper. Turning off
the engine, Kat checked her makeup in the driver’s side visor mirror.
Satisfied, she grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and exited the Viper.

chapter eighteen

 

Kat opened the door to Candle and Wind. She paused for
a moment, enjoying the rush of cool air, as a fragrant breeze blew past her
carrying the strong, yet pleasant, aroma of scented candles and incense. To
Kat’s left was a long, L-shaped glass display case that served as a counter.
Wiccan and witchcraft supplies, jewelry, and books filled the case, while flyers
and magazines littered the top. Shelves filled with labeled containers of
various sizes lined the wall behind. The store resembled a weird blend of
apothecary and head shop.

At the end of the counter where the L formed, a
saleswoman helped a single customer. Both looked toward the door as Kat
entered. The saleswoman, a plain, older woman, smiled at Kat. The customer
simply stared.

    The gust of indoor air pushed Kat’s hair back
away from her face. Intruding sunlight raced in, attacking the dark corners and
crevices inside. The customer’s eyes went wide. He blinked several times and
his gaze shifted down her torso. Kat looked down and realized that the
intruding sunlight likely silhouetted her body through the light material of
her short sundress. She could have drawn a straight line between his eyes and
the “Y” outline of her Tanga panties. Looking up, she watched his right hand
slip from the counter to his crotch as he adjusted himself. She stood in the
doorway for a moment longer.
Enjoy the view, perv.

Releasing the door, Kat returned the woman’s
smile and then looked directly at the man. A weird aura, actually more like an
apparition, emanated from his torso, flowing in and around. Kat had never seen
anything like it before. It was as if his shadow had come to life, but could
not quite detach itself. A second and then a third shadow appeared, dancing
around and through him. He seemed oblivious to their presence.
What kind of
weird shit is that?

The answer leapt into her consciousness. This odd
little man standing in front of her, with his long, straight, lifeless hair, Fu
Manchu moustache, and wispy beard, did not live alone in his thin, insipid
body. He was host to some kind of occult energy or spirit beings. The shadows
appeared to bow, in unison, towards Kat before resuming their dance around and
through the man.

He stared at Kat as Martha spoke.

“Welcome to the Candle and Wind.”

A single, similar shadow swirled around Martha.
It jumped around as if Kat’s presence pleased and excited it.

“We have everything you need. My name is Martha.
I’ll be glad to help you when I am done with Kevin.” She nodded past the little
freak. “The candle magick supplies are in the back.”

Kat hesitated a second before answering.
How
did Martha know what she wanted?

“Thanks,” Kat replied. She turned, glanced at
Kevin, and then browsed her way toward the candle supplies. She could feel
Kevin’s wide-eyed stare following her.
God, he’s a weird little shit.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Martha said.

“Yes, very beautiful,” Kevin replied.

They spoke quietly with hushed voices, but in the
cool silence of the store Kat could still hear them.

“And she’s going to need my help.”

Kat looked back at Kevin. His expression had an
awed quality. Almost reverent. The face of a worshiper. That pleased Kat. She
could get used to being worshiped.

***

Baalzaric watched through Kat’s eyes. She spent a few
more minutes browsing the shelves and displays as she made her way to the
candle magick area. The owners kept the store well-stocked with everything
needed for Wiccan, pagan, or occult worship, ceremonies, and rituals. For
Baalzaric, it was a cornucopia of demonic delights, a path straight into his
world.

He could not remember a time since the birth of
the hated Jesus of Nazareth when occult practices had been so widely accepted
across so many different cultures. This store, where mystical paraphernalia was
sold openly, made it clear that the Adversary was losing ground. Four hundred
years ago, witches were burned. Now they publicly plied their craft promising a
guilt-free path to knowledge, wisdom, pleasure and power.

Baalzaric, along with an uncountable demonic
horde, would be the helpful conduit guiding the human race away from the Jesus
lovers, until Prince Lucifer received his rightful kingdom. A kingdom founded
upon physical pleasure, fleshly delights, and moral autonomy. And with Kat’s
help, Baalzaric would be the one who would bestow upon the demons the ultimate
prize — immortal flesh — a prize they greatly desired and certainly deserved.

The recognition and deference of the demons
inhabiting the little man at the counter had pleased Baalzaric. He welcomed
their bow to his superior position and power. Baalzaric had need of faithful
followers. Followers committed to his plan and his vision for a world of
fleshly pleasures and power. When he succeeded, even Lucifer would praise him.

***

Kat was amazed at the selection of candles. The shelves
and baskets contained a variety of standard taper candles in many colors and
sizes, as well as specialty candles — shape candles, pillar candles, natural
soy wax candles, and spell candles. Candles for every possible supernatural
circumstance.

Next to the displays, racks, and tubs containing
the candles was a selection of books and magazines about witchcraft and candle
magick. Kat picked up one of the candle magick magazines and flipped the pages.
The skin on her neck and arms prickled. Something special had come into her
life. The magazine’s pages zipped by until one article caught her eye. In
large, bold letters the title confirmed her feelings. Magick is Real.
Magick
IS real. Damn straight it is.

She put the magazine down and selected candles in
the colors she needed. For now, she would stick to the simple, eight-inch taper
candles. The specialty candles seemed more like gimmicks than true vehicles for
power through magick. She returned to the front of the store and sat the
candles on the counter in front of Martha. Kevin hovered around the short end
of the L-shaped cabinet, his eyes darting between the pages of a magazine and
Kat. Martha smiled.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?”

Kat smiled back.  “I’ve never been in a store
quite like this.” For some reason, she felt an affinity for Martha that she
rarely felt for another human being, let alone a stranger.

“How did you know I needed candles?”

“I seem to have a talent for knowing certain
things. It’s a gift. I’ve learned to never question it.”

Martha picked up the candles, one by one, and
entered the prices into the cash register. She finished ringing up the purchase
and gave Kat a knowing look.

“There is another level, you know. Are you
willing to do some reading?”

Kat hesitated for a moment.
Another level of
what?

“I don’t have a lot of extra time. I work two
jobs.”

Martha put the candles and the receipt in a bag.

“Time is our most precious resource. None of us
ever seem to have enough. I would never waste your time, sweetheart. Give me a
second.”

Kat waited as Martha went into a small room
behind the counter. Kevin moved closer to Kat so that she was between him and
the door.
The little perv is looking for another show.

He exchanged the magazine for another one.
Kevin’s shadows jumped and danced around him. He looked up from the magazine
and Kat locked eyes with him.

“I can help you,” Kevin said.

***

Martha watched the brief exchange between Kevin and Kat
from inside the doorway of the small room. She stepped out and placed a book on
the counter. Kat turned away from Kevin, releasing the connection she had
established. He blinked
as if a camera flash had gone off in his eyes.

Martha spoke as if she were sharing an
unquestionable truth. “This will take your power to a new level.”

She softly, almost lovingly, caressed the cover
of the book. The cover was ornate, decorated with symbols and elegant lettering.
In the center was an artist’s representation of a being who might have been
none other than Lucifer himself. Kat read the title that stretched across the
top in two rows of embossed text.

The Left Hand Path: Luciferian Witchcraft and
the Keys to Power
.

She picked up the book. Thick and heavy, its
cover felt like soft leather. Almost like a baby’s skin. Kat let it rest in the
palm of her right hand as she opened it. Inside, on the first page, was a brief
inscription.

Fear not the source of power, fear only that
you will die without ever knowing your own greatness.

No source or name followed the quote.

Kat turned the pages, looking at the dense text
and occasional drawings. She stopped at a chapter titled
Azal’ucel: The
Risen God Within
. She scanned the subtitles that stretched down the page.
Luciferian Tantra, The Obscene Kiss, Sexual Sorcery, Infernal Sex Magick. The
book talked about things that went far beyond simple candle magick. Kat closed
the book and sat it back on the counter.

“How much is it?”

Kevin reached over to take the book, but Martha
picked it up first. She looked at Kevin.

“You’re not ready for this.”

Kevin sunk back as Martha took the book and put
it into the bag with the candles. She held out the bag to Kat.

“There’s no price. It can’t be purchased, at
least not with money.”

Kat accepted the bag. Kevin looked disappointed
and Martha gave him a sympathetic look.

“Just keep following The Light, Kevin. The Light
will tell you when you are ready.”

Kat looked at Kevin, somehow knowing the truth of
Martha’s admonition.

“She’s right, Kevin, you’re not ready.” A subtle
mocking infiltrated her voice. “Just keep following The Light.”

As Kat opened the door to leave, sunlight again burst
into the store. She paused in the doorway for a moment while her eyes adjusted
to its brightness. The light bathed her body and she was sure that if she
looked back she would catch Kevin staring bug-eyed again. She turned and his
eyes met hers.

“Martha is right, Kevin.”
You sick little
bastard.
“Just follow the light.”

Kevin started for the door. Toward the light.

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