The Mythos Unveiled (Demona series)

The Mythos Unveiled

By
Megan A. Hepler

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Copyright © 2013
Megan A. Hepler

All rights
reserved. No part of this novel may be used or reproduced in any form or by any
means, electronic, physical, or otherwise, without written permission from the
author.

This is a work
of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events,
dialogues, locales, religions, or cultures is entirely coincidental and
unintentional.

Cover Art by K.
C. Designs

To Josh Hepler, my husband and best
friend.

Chapter 1

Farthest from
the End

A
young woman and her four legged companion made their way down a dark path.
Lamps dotted the trail, providing just enough illumination for the young woman
to follow. A cool breeze blew through the park causing the leaves to rustle.
The young woman shivered from the eeriness of the night.

Her
four legged companion, Acadia, was a Bouvier. A large boxy body and strong
muscular legs made anyone think twice about messing with either of them. The
young woman found the dog adorable with her gleaming eyes and long shaggy,
brindle fur.

“Demona,”
a voice said. It sounded extremely close.

The
young woman looked in search of the voice that had called her name. Upon seeing
nothing, she returned her gaze to the dog. “I think I’m going crazy, girl.
Let’s go home.”

Acadia
glance up at her, head tilted, and wiggling her stub of a tail as if she were
listening intently to Demona’s every word. They began making their way off of
the path, when suddenly Acadia halted. Demona turned to look at her and Acadia
promptly sat, dropping all of her weight.

Demona
began to slightly tug on the leash and tried coaxing Acadia to continue on
their way home. Acadia refused to move a muscle. She softly whimpered and her
ears were folded back in distress.

“What’s
wrong?” Demona asked.

Acadia
began whimpering louder and she threw her head side to side, as if saying no.
Demona began to approach the dog. Her hand was outstretched in an attempt to
comfort her, but Acadia began to back away.

“Calm
down. Stay,” Demona said.

Acadia
would not listen and struggled even harder. Her collar snapped and she ran in
the opposite direction.

“Acadia,
come back!” Demona said. She ran after the fleeting form, but soon lost sight
of the frightened dog. Enveloped in darkness, Demona began slowing to a halt.
She placed her hands on her knees and waited to catch her breath.

“Demona,”
a voice said.

As
Demona spun to see where the voice had come from she saw the faded outline of a
man. She forcefully slowed her breathing and gained some composure.

“Hey,
did you see a dog run through here?” Demona asked.

There
came no response from the outlined figure as it began to slowly approach her.

“Do
I know you?” Demona asked. She tried to make out the features on his face, but
the darkness was too thick. The man was growing closer and Demona became
uncomfortable with his presence.

I’ve got to get
away from this creeper.
Demona’s body remained frozen in place as the man
approached her. The last thing she remembered was staring into cold,
emotionless eyes.

****

Demona
Brennan came back to the present, sitting on her apartment balcony. The memory
of that night made her shiver. She sat on the lawn chair, unwilling to move
after the frightening memory. She stared at the waking town wondering how
normal people were able to live their lives.

As
the sun began to rise above the houses, the light brought life to her deep
green eyes. Her features filled with color as the big golden ball rose into the
sky. Her full lips became rosier and her black hair was bold against her
porcelain skin. Demona felt the warmth of the sun’s rays dance across her
hands.

I wish those
stupid myths were true. I hate being a vampire.

Demona
huffed as she rose from the chair and opened the door to her apartment. She
walked into an open floor plan with a tiny kitchen and living room. She had two
cushioned chairs situated on either side of a flat screen TV. Across from the
chairs was a paisley sofa with a wooden coffee table centered among the
furniture. A kitchen island with a couple of bar stools created a slight
separation between the rooms. Several framed band posters hung perfectly from
the walls.

Demona
looked at the clock and knew she was already late for work. She walked through
her bedroom doorway and grabbed a jacket from the coat rack just inside. She
grabbed her keys and ran out her door, slamming it behind her.

“Hey,”
Hannah said.

Demona
turned to find her neighbor exiting her apartment as well. “Oh, hey. What’s
up?”

Hannah
had just locked up her apartment and readjusted the purse hanging from her
shoulder. Her blonde, wavy hair fell in front of her face and she brushed it
back. She was wearing a flowered sundress.

“Just
headed to the animal shelter. It’s time to feed the dogs,” Hannah said. “Aren’t
you late for work?”

“Yeah,
again. I can only imagine what the consequences are going to be this time.”

“Well,
good luck!”

****

Demona’s
beat up sedan pulled into a parking lot that surrounded a large office
building. She always thought that it was strange that the building was located
in the middle of an industrial park. She exited her car and ran to the sidewalk
leading to the building’s entrance.

Demona
opened one of the large glass doors and entered into the lobby. A guard eyed
her suspiciously and she looked at the shining marble floors as she rushed
toward the cafeteria. She entered the large cafeteria and saw that a few
stragglers were standing in line at the counter. Some still remained at the
tables finishing their meals. At one table a werewolf gnawed on raw meat.

Demona
tapped her fingers on the counter as she waited impatiently for her rations.
She eventually proceeded down the line and approached an old woman. The old
woman was hunched over the food as she worked. She slopped something foul
looking onto a plate beside frog legs and fried worms and handed it to the
witch in front of Demona.

“Uhh,
hi,” Demona said.

“You’re
an ungrateful child, coming in here late all the time. In my day we would’ve
been hung in the dungeon for such disrespect. I hope they make you scrub
toilets tonight. You should be proud to work for TGHC!” Marcie said. She bared
her yellowing false teeth. The old woman poured some red sludge into a cup and
handed it to Demona.

I should’ve
skipped work today.

“You
need to show respect to Darius and show up on time!” Marcie said.

“Yes,
I know. Darius is wonderful for creating this place.”

“Get
out of here, before I curse you!”

Demona
worked for The Greir Hemo Co., also known as TGHC. TGHC was a secret
organization run by supernatural beings with an evil nature. TGHC’s cover was a
blood bank. Demona’s job was to forge paperwork, so the humans would not ask
where the blood supply was going.

TGHC
was formed twenty years ago by Darius Grier to cover up unexplained deaths when
human officials had started asking too many questions. TGHC was formed to
prevent any unwanted attention being drawn towards the supernatural. Nobody
wanted to be put in a situation where they needed to explain numerous deaths,
blood loss, and the occasional mutilation. The growing number of supernatural
beings added to the demand for a company such as TGHC.

Demona
stood in the elevator and dreaded what was to come. It was the same thing day
in and out. She exited the elevator and threw the empty cup into the trash.
Demona snuck through the rows of cubicles to her desk in an attempt to avoid
Marc, the floor manager. She sat on her computer chair and proceeded to unpack
her things for the day.

Claudia
a burly werewolf in the cubical to the left rolled towards Demona. She was
monstrously large and hairy, for a woman.

Ugh! Stay over
there Claudia and keep your mouth shut! Just do your work for once and leave me
alone!
Demona began sorting through a few papers on her desk.

“Again?”
Claudia asked. “Hey Demona, I’m talking to you!”

“Yeah!
You better listen to Claudia,” Persephone said. Persephone was a dark skinned
witch from the cubicle on her right. She also rolled towards Demona. Persephone
may have been tiny in size, but large in personality. The witch was a nightmare
for Demona to work with. She even invaded Demona’s dreams. Demona sometimes
suspected that Persephone may have cursed her.

“What
are we going to do with this pathetic vampire?” Persephone asked.

“Oh,
I know! We could pretend to be her friend, until she trusts us and then make a
fool of her in front of everyone,” Claudia said.

“Ha-ha,
good one!” Persephone said. “I still can’t believe you fell for that, Demona.”

Their
bullying could make one day at work seem like a lifetime. Demona had been
trying to block them out by focusing on work, so she continued to type up
falsified forms. She got up to go to the printer, where a stack of forms had
been freshly printed. She returned to her cubicle, setting the stack of papers
next to her keyboard.

“I
know! We are going to tell Marc that she’s not doing her work again.”
Persephone reached across to Demona’s desk and plucked up the freshly printed
papers. “Looks like you still have a lot of work to catch up on.”

“Come
on guys, just give the papers back. Leave me alone!” Demona said. She attempted
to grab the papers out of Persephone’s hand.

Persephone
held the stack just out of Demona’s reach. “I don’t think so. I’m having way
too much fun.”

“I
said give them back!” Demona made one last attempt to grab them away from her.

“Ha-ha,
Marc heard you. You’re in for it this time,” Claudia said. She and Persephone
rolled back over to their cubicles and made it look as if they were hard at
work.

“Gee,
thanks a lot,” Demona said. She turned back to her desk and quickly tried to
look busy by sifting through some papers on her desk as Marc passed by. To her
displeasure he stopped next to her desk and faced her. He peered at her for
long moments, making her feel uneasy before he spoke.

“What
have you been doing for the past half hour? I don’t see your completed forms.
Are you slacking off again?” Marc asked. He stood for a long moment staring at
Demona.

“I
did some. Persepon—”

“She’s
just been sitting there the whole time, while we work our butts off,”
Persephone said. She smirked

It
was hopeless for Demona to argue, those two could do no wrong. This was not the
first time Persephone had taken her work and passed it off as her own, leaving
Demona to be scolded by Marc.

“Don’t
think that I didn’t notice your absence this morning,” Marc said.

“Okay,
you got me. I had a flat tire,” Demona said.

“I
know you’re lying. You’ve been late one too many times!” His eerie stare
continued.

“I
guess I’ll be staying late, again?”

“Not
this time, Darius would like to see you in his office,” Marc said. “Now!” He
walked away from her towards his desk.

“Ouch!”
Claudia said.

“Have
fun,” Persephone said.

“Thanks,
guys,” Demona said. She rose from her desk and made her way to the office in
the corner of the room. She stopped in front of a door and stared at the plaque
reading: Darius Greir, President and Founder. She raised her hand to knock, but
before she could do so she heard a voice.

“You
may enter, Demona.”

Demona
thought the accent seemed strange, older somehow. She had only seen Darius as
he passed through the office. She had never been asked to visit his office, or
even spoken to him. The voice that had come from the other side of the door
sent a chill up her spine.

She
entered to find Darius sitting behind his desk in a high backed office chair.
His office was large and comfortably furnished. Two cushioned chairs sat before
his desk, and off to the side of the door were a few chairs, a leather sofa,
and a coffee table. There was a large window directly behind Darius providing a
nice view of industrial park. On the other side of the room were shelves lined
with what looked like old books and artifacts.

After
she had quickly glanced around, Demona returned her gaze to Darius. Not only
was he intimidating by appearance, but his reputation preceded him. Darius was
a widely feared man, by all. His head was shaved, he had a pointed goatee, and
his skin was so pale it was almost translucent. He had an average build and
looked to be in his mid forties, even though it was rumored that he was turned
sometime in the 1760s, during the Seven Years’ War. Most of what anyone knew
about him was hearsay. Mystery surrounded him.

Their
eyes locked. Demona noticed that his eyes were the blackest of blacks, with no
hint of compassion or mercy. She could not look away as if she had lost control
of her mind and body.

Demona
had regained control of herself as Darius released her from his gaze. At first,
she was confused by her location when she found that she was already sitting in
the chair across from him.