Sacrifice is power. The most powerful sacrifice is life. This is a universal constant of magic. The greater the magic to be performed the greater the sacrifice to be made.

• Understanding Basic Magic, vol 1

“Master, there are too many injured and just not enough life to heal them all. The wizards are passing out…. Some of them are even dying. What are we going to do?”, my young apprentice Howard begged of me. He was 25 years old but looked to be in his sixties. We sacrifice part of our life when we do magic. A week here. A month there. A year over here. We wizards may burn brightly but we do not burn for long.

I inspected the wound of my patient. A sword slice through 2 lobes of his lung, broken ribs, liver damage, massive blood loss. I tally up the injuries…. It would cost me 10 years of my life to heal him completely. It would cost me 2 years to heal him enough that he would survive. I prepare myself and sacrifice 2 years and let the magic course through me, shaping it, directing it, moulding it to my will….. and then I release it into the patient. I collapse to my knees panting for breath….. I have given up 20 years of life today. Almost 60 years worth since this damn war started. But today, today has seen the fiercest fighting yet. Our king is trying to push through the enemy lines even if it means burning out all of his wizards.

“Give me a moment Howard.”, I say as he helps me to seat. I take a few deep breaths. “How many more have come in?”, I ask shakily.

“About a hundred more.”, he says quietly. “The offensive is not going well.”

“Are there any new prisoners that can be sacrificed?”, I ask hopefully.

“The enemy fights until death and if they can’t fight any more they take a poison capsule and kill themselves. They won’t let themselves be taken.”

I raise an eyebrow at that. “That is a new tactic.”, I say simply.

Howard shrugs. “They die on the field or we capture them and put them to death to heal our injured. Either way they die.”, he says, “at least this way they aren’t helping the enemy. It is smart.”

“Wizard! I need a wizard!”, a courtier yells as he hauls in a member of the Royal court. Howard and I go over to him. “It is the Prince. His wound is infected.”

We quickly lay him down on a cot. “When did he get wounded. We haven’t seen him through here in weeks.”, I say to the courtier.

“The Prince is aware of the cost of a healing and would not ask it for such a minor wound. He would sacrifice is own life force to heal it but it isn’t allowed to sacrifice noble life for magic, so he decided to let it heal on its own.”, the courtier said.

“That is noble of him, but a clean would of this size would take a day of sacrifice. Now that it is infected it is going to take a great deal more.”, Howard said sadly as he looked at the grotesque wound. It was was oozing puss and the skin next to the opening was necrotic.

I probed the wound gently, causing the unconscious Prince to moan, the wound was deep. I tallied up the work that would need to be done…. At least a year worth of life. “Damn…. There is so much infection”, I said to myself.

“It is too bad infection wasn’t alive”, the courtier said.

“Oh, infection is alive. Thousands and thousands of tiny organisms that are feeding off of our Prince and making him sick.”, I said absently as I cleaned up the wound.

“Can you sacrifice the tiny organisms?”, the courtier asked

I looked at Howard. He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t remember any text ever saying it had to be human life that must be sacrificed. It was always just…. Implied….”

“Well if nothing else, sacrificing the infection would clean up the wound, even if there isn’t enough life there to heal it.”, I said, trying to convince myself of the merits. “Why not?”

“We should at least try it”, Howard said excitedly.

I pulled up a chair to the prince’s cot. I took a couple of deep breaths and then reached out with my senses to find all of the infection and the microbes that shouldn’t be there. It felt like it took an eternity. I had to identify each and everyone one separately. I took a steadying breath and sacrificed those lives entirely…. Not minutes or hours or days but extinguished those lives entirely. I expected a little bit of power but I was overwhelmed.

The power burned through me, setting every nerve ending on fire and making me ache to the very core of my being. I shaped the power to heal the prince, but there was so much more and there was no where for it to go! I started to panic. There was no more hurt on the Prince and I wasn’t in contact with anyone else that needed healing. The power burned and struggled, it wanted to be free. I clamped down on that power and forced my will on it and then swallowed it whole. My very soul felt like it was on fire. Then the world went black.

“Master! Master! Are you alright‽”, I heard Howard’s voice through the darkness. I opened my eyes.

“I am still here young man.”, I said to Howard.

The healed prince looked down at me on the floor. Then to Howard then to me. “You look a lot younger than him.”, the prince said.

I touched my face. The wrinkles were gone. I moved my legs experientially…. No aches or pains. “How old do I look, Howard?”, I asked cautiously.

“If I had to guess, I would say…. about 16 or 17, master.”, Howard said with a big smile.

“Send a runner…. Everyone of them we can find. We need everything they can find that is rotting… food stuffs, horse manure, people with infections, yeast….. all of it, any of it. We are going to turn the tide of the war, my boy!”

Already spend every second Sunday with my mother in-law…. Could this be much worse? 😄

Just because he is a “bad guy”, doesn’t mean he is a bad guy….

Totally.

I was hoping for more of a flash back effect. 3 different flash backs for 3 different minutes

I was trying to think of something small that most people would have a reference to. Robin’s egg, thimble, head of a pin….. I don’t know something smallish while also conveying that it is worthless to the demon.

3:30am. Time always seems to slow down as I wait for the demon to show up. The first couple of times he came looking for a latte was absolutely terrifying. I can always smell him before he actually opens the door, the stench of sulphur and blood. It puts you on edge. It’s like your subconscious knows that smell and what it means. But nothing prepares you for when a 7 foot 8 inch demon walks through the door. He has to duck or snag his horns on the door jam. Even though it is the dead of winter, shows up wearing nothing but a chain mail loin cloth. His rippling muscles covered in deep red skin and nasty looking scars. He is a sight to behold.

3:31am. It is tempting to start making the latte early, just so he leaves early. I learnt the hard way that he wants it made so he can see you make it and so it is as hot as can be. I tried to make it early…. Once…. He yelled and banged his fist on the counter. Yelled is an understatement but I don’t know what else you would call it. The glass coffee pots exploded and it drove me to my knees. I tried to plug my ears as they bled. The front counter collapsed under the impact of his blow.

It was weird. He apologized and didn’t come back for almost a month. I had convinced myself it was a bad dream…. And then he started coming back again.

3:32am. I turned half of the over head lights off. It is so bright that it makes him squint and he is visibly pained. It is all about making the customer happy after all. The first time I turned off some lights for him, he was visibly relieved. He even got chatty, which was oddly terrifying. He has a voice like scraping rocks that is deep enough that your guts vibrate as he talks.

3:33am. I can smell the sulphur and blood in the air. The bell on the door dingles, letting me know we have a customer. I look to see him coming in from the driving snow. He is literally steaming as the snow melts off of him.

He ducks just enough for his curly horns to miss the door frame and walks in. A slight jingle from his chain mail loin cloth as he walks to the front counter.

“Hey Clair, how’s your night going?”, he says. Making small talk with a demon. So weird.

“Oh, same old, same old, Steve. I thought you might be late, given the blizzard out there.”, he wouldn’t give me his name when I had asked. Something about a true name freely given having power or something. I don’t know. So I started calling him Steve. He seems ok with it.

He chuckled, a terrifying sound. Like squishing kittens between rocks. “I made a snow demon in the parking lot. I have never laid down in the snow before. It was quite nice.”

I chuckled at that. “What can I get you Steve?”, I asked. Trying to keep it friendly but professional.

“Oh the usually. A double latte with a hint of Tabasco.”, he said with a smile as he leaned on the counter. There was a bit of flesh hanging from a fang and a bit of blood on his chin. Probably the demon equivalent to a bit of spinach in your teeth.

The “hint of Tabasco” threw me the first couple of times. No matter how much I added, he would always ask for a hint more on his next visit. Now I brew the coffee using Tabasco instead of water. It makes my eyes water but Steve seems to like it.

I do my best to make a nice hell themed picture in the cream. Today it is a horned skull. A useful skill around halloween time too.

“There you go, Steve.”, I said as I slide the cup over to him.

“The skull is a nice touch”, he says and gives me a wink. He takes a sip. He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. “That is, dare I say it, divine.” I smile as he takes another sip. “Thank you Clair.” He put a gold nugget on the counter, about the size of a robin’s egg. “See you tomorrow.” He says as he flashes me a smile and walks out humming some nameless tune that his pointy tail is keeping the beat to.

I didn’t have much time. I armed all of the weapons and fired. My mobile battle station, which is far more than just a tank, unleashed holy hell on the penitentiary. Canons roared, destroying the brick walls. Lasers fired, cutting through the chain link fence like paper. Hundreds of RPGs fired and landed in the yard, shredding the poor inmates and guards alike.

I advanced steadily. The heavy threads of the battle station sinking into the dirt and crushing any soul unfortunate to be in my path.

Multiple automated machine guns targeted and shot anyone left moving, all headshots. Any one not moving, head shots too, just to be sure. We had to be sure. This was too big to not be sure.

I pushed through the walls, making it to the centre of the building. Getting into the sub levels is going to suck, but I planned for it. Canons positioned around the battle station, and conspicuously pointed down, began firing. Blowing a hole through the concrete floor, dropping the battle station with the grace of a brick to the lower floor.

Lower and lower I dropped into the structure. 15 minutes had passed since I started the assault. I was about out of time. I couldn’t go any faster though. So many people that have to be killed and I can only go so fast. I should have brought more bombs.

“Stop right there Dr. Mechano!”, yelled a booming voice. Mr. Stupendous was right on time. 15 minutes and 23 seconds since the beginning of the assault, damn he can fly fast. Mr. Stupendous started beating on the tank. I launched a pair of missiles straight up, both programmed to go up almost a mile and then go in opposite directions towards heavily populated cities. He will be able to stop them, but it should buy me a few minutes.

He took off after the missiles like I knew he would. Two more levels to go. I kept on blasting through the floor until I crushed a lab. This was it. The automated machine guns tried to kill the prisoners but they were behind some serious bullet proof glass. The prisoners has ripped jump suits and hobbled about aimlessly, completely ignoring me. I brought the main canon around to blast through the glass.

The battle station’s alarms started going off. I had incoming. Too late to set off counter measures, my own missiles slammed into the top of the battle station.

“Have a taste of your own medicine, villain!”, the view screens were down but I knew without looking that Mr. Stupendous was standing there with his hands on his hips doing his best heroic pose. That man is such a cartoon character.

Systems not responding. Weapons are down. Damn, my missiles really did a number on the battle station. Time for the stalling tactics and the Hail Mary. I lifted the flap on a big red button, man I do love buttons with flaps, and pushed it.

“You got me Stupendous.” I said as I crawled out the hatch on the side of the battle station. “You need to listen to me.”, he won’t but I need the time, “these prisoners are infected. They have been experimenting on the prisoners. Look at them! Just look at them Steve.”

That got the reaction I was hoping for.

“Who…. Who is this Steve?”, he said weakly.

“You are. I have known forever. I don’t mess with your family or your personal life. I respect you and what you do.”, I paused to let that sink in, “I do need you to listen Steve, for the sake of your wife and children, just listen. Those prisoners behind you have to die. Everyone in this facility has to die. The doctor here has been trying to make super soldiers and things have gone very wron….”

“You can’t expect me to let everyone just die because you say so.”, everything this guy says sounds like it is narrated by a cartoon caricature.

“Just look behind you.”

“Like I am going to fall for that.”, he said incredulously.

“There are some God damn zombies behind you. Everyone in this facility could be infected. It is 100% contagious. If it gets out it will wipe out humanity in a few weeks, month or two tops.”, I think I might be getting to him, “come on man, just look behind you and tell me I am wrong.”

He took a look, he actually looked. “We can save them. It isn’t too late.”

“They are dead. The virus animates their bodies and drives them to kill. There is no one left to sav”, in an instant his hand was around my throat.

“We. Will. Save. Them.”, he said in his most serious tone. This Boy Scout can’t see that killing then is for the better good. My watched beeped twice. “What is that? Back up plan? You got some other tricks?”

“I am all out of tricks and all out of time.”, at that his eyes opened wide and I closed mine. I made my peace with dying when I lifted the flap on that button. My Hail Mary was a medium sized nuclear bomb, it won’t kill Stupendous over here, but it should vaporize these bad guys. I am hoping we are far enough down that they will be able to fill in the hole to contain the radiation.

!!BOOM!!

Fear is delicious. I love the taste of fear. Little jump scares. Terrifying nightmares. All of them are absolutely delicious.

I, and my kin, live under beds and scare people. Living off of their nightmares and fears. We help prepare children for life.

We’re usually move on once a child is in their late teens. Once someone becomes an adult, their fears are less…. Satisfying some how. There is something about the fresh fears of childhood that sustains us the best.

Timmy is my first human. I was placed under his crib when he was brought home from the hospital and I have been with him ever since. There is just something special about your first human.

When he was sixteen I was thinking of moving on. His fears were becoming stale and old. And then, she hit him. His mother hit him. And then his father hit him. My sweet Timmy. He has new fears but I was sickened by the thought of eating those. I maybe a monster but his parents are monstrous.

What could I do? I am an amorphous fear monster, how do I defend him? I did the only thing I could, I moved in under his parents bed and taught them what it was to fear. Their fears aren’t fresh like a child’s but I shall feast on the quantity.