Supplying Supers - Ch. 23 - When it All Began Pt. 3 - Beta (Patreon)

Friday September 7, 1691 Salem, Massachusetts Amerika

James Everett - Now known as Gunner Webb

OSDB Hero Rank: N/A - Civilian

OSDB Threat Rating: N/A - Civilian

The smell of freshly baked apple pie woke James. He smiled, only to frown moments later as he searched the bed around him and found it empty. Cracking one eye open, he looked around the room. There was too much light.

He sat up on his hands, grinding his fists into his eyes to wake himself. Hundreds of candles stood lit on every surface around him. The dressers, chests, and floor were covered. They weren’t freshly lit, either. Their wax had spilled across each front like centuries old stalagmites.

The door creaked open and his three lovers entered the room. They were wearing robes he’d never seen before. The cloth was black with red edging along the sides. Their surfaces shined as if made from silk. They wore them loosely over their naked bodies, barely covering their breasts with the hoods pulled back.

James beamed when he locked eyes with Mellicent. She was smiling and holding a hearty piece of the apple pie. While she joined his side, Dorothy and Annabelle sat on the end of the bed.

“What’s all this?” James asked, pointing to the candles.

“It’s a special occasion,” his red-haired lover said. “It’s required for the evening.”

“What occasion? Required for what?”

“For our futures’ together. It creates a romantic atmosphere, does it not?”

James looked around the room. He wasn’t sure he’d call it romantic. More like a house fire waiting to happen. However, he didn’t want to spoil the mood and lied.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Mellicent giggled as she set the plate on his lap. From behind her back, she retrieved a blade James had never seen before. She extended it toward him with both hands.

“What’s this?” James asked.

“A gift from us three,” Mellicent said, handing it to him.

The weapon’s blade waved like the ocean and was made from some blackened metal. Its crossguard had symbols etched into it that he didn’t understand. The grip was carved from some kind of ivory or bone. A thumb-sized ruby was mounted into the pommel. Its balance was perfect and felt weightless in his hand.

“Goodness, it’s beautiful,” James said. “It must have cost a fortune.”

“It is priceless,” Mellicent said, batting her eyelashes.

“I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”

The green-eyed beauty scooted up next to James and placed her hand on his thigh. She looked up at him like he was the only man in the world. His chest tightened as his eyes bounced between her full lips and her enamoring gaze.

“It’s a ceremonial blade that’s been in my family’s possession for generations,” Mellicent began. “My ancestors forged it through great strife. It was meant for one person and one person only. And that person is you.”

“I don’t understand,” James said. “Why me?”

“You, James Everett, are more important than you know. Annabelle, Dorothy, and I have scoured the world for someone like you. You’re more precious than any other. There’s no one else in the world like you.”

“You’re being too kind. There are other men in the world grander than I.”

“No!” Mellicent shouted, wide-eyed. “I’m serious. You don’t understand. You… are one of a kind.”

“Mellicent, what are you doing?” Annabelle whispered with a furrowed brow.

The red-haired vixen let out a nervous laugh, as if realizing her mistake as she said, “Excuse my rambles. Why don’t you go on and try the pie?”

James looked down and smiled. “It looks and smells so good. It’s honestly been hard to hold back.”

He used the knife and cut a piece of the pie and placed it into his mouth. The thick pieces of apple melted like butter, leaving a taste of cinnamon and sugar. It was just the perfect amount of sweetness and warmth.

In just a few bites, he finished his night-time snack. Mellicent took the dagger and plate. After setting the saucer on one of the side tables, she leaned over and stole a kiss. The embrace was deep and passionate, sucking on his lower lip as she draped her hand across his cheek. They lingered in the moment like this would be their final one.

When she pulled away, she smiled and caressed James’ leg as she said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being an absolutely perfect host.”

“I’ve just done what any gentleman would do.”

Mellicent let out a short giggle which built into a nefarious laugh. “No James, you misunderstand me. Not that kind of host.”

With a quick blow of her breath, all the candle flames vanquished. A wave of purple light illuminated each candle from one end of the room to the next. James blinked rapidly as the women’s positions had changed without sound.

Dorothy and Annabelle flanked the side of the bed with their hoods pulled up. They pulled daggers from the back of their robes. Mellicent stood at the end with the ceremonial dagger in her hand. Fear ripped James’ feeling of happiness.

He winced as they sliced their weapons across their hands, showering him in sprays of blood. His hands shook as he ran them down his face. Even in the purple light, all he could see was red.

His own mind lied to himself as it tried to process what was happening. This isn’t real. It can’t be. This is only a dream.

All three women held up their hands and chanted. Their words were a language he didn’t understand. One he’d never heard them speak. But the pattern was familiar. It was the same tune Annabelle had hummed to him earlier.

His mind screamed for him to run. But his heart reassured him he was okay. It told him that they loved him and he loved them, too. It reassured him that they would never hurt him.

It was a lie.

But when their eyes glowed an ominous purple, his mind and heart finally came into sync. He had to get out of there. Now.

Panic washed over him when he tried to move. He couldn’t. His shoulders jerked slightly‌ forward as he tugged at his body to move his arms. Each leg shook with each attempted kick. Yet, they barely moved.

His skin tightened when his instincts told him of the impending threat. When he looked up, Mellicent’s glowing purple eyes stared right into his soul. A wicked smile crossed her face.

“What have you done to me?” James shouted. “Let me go!”

“I’m sorry, my love, but I can’t,” the witch said.

Mellicent extended her hand and expanded her fingers. James’ body reacted the same, rising from the bed and spreading his arms and legs outward. With a wave of her hand, she flipped his back to the ceiling, pointing him down toward his bed.

A roar of purple fire consumed the wood and bedding, leaving no trace of ash. Underneath where it once stood, a drawn circle etched in runes glowed a crimson red. It pulsed to the drum of James’ heartbeat.

He swung around at Mellicent’s command. She lowered him until his naked body touched the floor. The wood flexed and felt warm, like he was lying on human flesh.

“Mellicent, stop this at once!” James screamed.

As Annabelle and Dorothy continued chanting, Mellicent straddled him, draping her fingers down James’ chest. “There is nothing that can stop us now. The eve of your ascension is upon us. Your destiny is just moments away from being fulfilled.”

“What are you babbling about? Just let me go!”

“I told you. You’re so much more important that you realize. You are unlike anyone else in our world.”

“I don’t care! Release me or I swear you’ll be sorry!”

Mellicent leaned back, cackling as she reveled in his idle threats. Once she regained her composure, she leaned forward and rode his groin as she spoke. “No need for bravado, James. You are no fighter. You have a kind heart. There’s no way you can stop this. You should just accept it.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m giving you a gift, my love. Your body will be the perfect host for Shivatha, the Architect. Your sacrifice will allow her to possess your form. Upon your death, your soul will be intertwined with her. The both of you will become one, and you will usher in a new age, reshaping this world into your image.”

“No!” James shouted. He jerked at every muscle in his body. He visualized throwing her off of him, killing the three of them with their own blades. It was no use. Whatever spell she’d cast on him held him to the ground. His mind fell into despair.

The thought of their betrayal crushed him. He was ready to give them everything he had. But he never expected such a complete price. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live.

“Why are you doing this to me, Mellicent?” James choked. “I love you.”

“Oh, my sweet beautiful, James,” Mellicent said, before leaning down and kissing his cheek. “I love you more than anything else. I love you more than my life. Don’t you see that? I’ve spent the entirety of it hunting for you. Centuries of endlessly searching. I scoured every inch of this decrepit place looking for you. And just when I was about to give up, I stumbled upon such a charming man.”

“Then please, Mellicent. Let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. I’ll give you everything I own.”

Mellicent’s lower eyelid twitched. “Don’t you see the gift that I am giving you? You’re the perfect specimen. You’re a man so connected to the Gale that you’ll be able to absorb and contain all of Shivatha’s power. Once you both are combined, you will be the harbinger to remake this cruel, pathetic world. Whatever you want to do, you will have the power to see it done. And I, Annabelle, and Dorothy will be at your side. We will serve you for eternity.”

“But it won’t be me,” James growled. “You said it yourself. I’m a sacrifice. Whatever is left will be some twisted amalgamation of me.”

Mellicent smiled and slowly nodded. “Yes. But you will be beautiful, and I will love you just the same as the man you are today.”

When Mellicent caressed his cheek, James snapped. “Don’t you touch me! You’re nothing but a cruel wench, Mellicent. Go on and do what you must. Just know I will never forgive you for this. Whatever I become, you three will never serve me. I will spit on your dead corpses.”

Mellicent coiled herself, and for a brief second, a flash of concern washed over her face. However, it was soon replaced by a fit of laughter and her conniving smile. She raised the ceremonial knife over her head and said, “It will only hurt for a moment. I promise.”

James let out a guttural shout as Mellicent plunged the dagger in his heart. He gasped as the pain spread from head to toe. His whole body tensed, fearful of doing more damage if he moved. The beating floor behind him slowly stopped.

He couldn’t breathe.

Everything felt cold as his vision dimmed.

This is it, he thought. This is the end.

Mellicent’s blood-splattered smile was the last thing he saw before everything turned black.

James gasped and his eyes shot open. An explosion of purple energy and electricity shot into the sky. It blew the roof off the frame of the house. Wooden shrapnel and glass scattered throughout the room. The blast launched all three women into the surrounding walls.

The clouds above swirled, forming a giant cone that spread in every direction. Lightning stretched out like the hand of a skeleton reaching for the countryside. A heavy, poignant smell filled the air.

The witches scrambled from the ground and resumed their places. They chanted and waved their arms. Strands of their blood twisted around the column, creating stability in its structure. The light pulsing from James’ chest widened, covering his entire body.

He felt no pain. There were no feelings of fear, anger, or emotion. There was no desire to escape or pray. He was a prisoner of his mind watching the events unfold.

The energy and light eventually subsided. When the last ray touched the sky, a shot of lightning split the horizon. The sides expanded, creating an expansion of shimmering darkness that sprawled in every direction.

A bestial roar echoed from the darkness. Thick castle-sized tentacles stretched from the nothingness. They thrashed into the surrounding sky, searching for prey. Massive eruptions rolled through the ground when they hit the surface.

“This is it,” Mellicent said, her voice shaking with excitement. She cleared her throat, threw her hands up, and shouted. “Great Shivatha, I, Mellicent, call thee forth. Your time of reckoning is nigh. Receive our offering. Take hold of your vessel and be reborn anew!”

The creature bellowed once more. The force of the vibrations shook the foundations. A single tentacle descended from the void and James accepted he was about to be crushed. However, it showed expert finesse as the tip wrapped itself around the dagger.

A feminine voice echoed in James’ mind, each word dripping with evil. “Yes… a worthy vessel. Finally, after millennia of waiting, I shall be born again.”

“Who are you?” James asked. “Shivatha?”

The voice erupted in laughter. “Such a surprise. You must have a strong mental fortitude to withstand my speech, mortal. It’s a miracle you’re not a drooling mess. Oh yes, you are a worthy vessel indeed. My disciples have done well. But it matters not who I am, for your existence will be forfeited soon enough.”

“No!” James shouted. “I will not let you take me! I—I will fight you!”

Shivatha's laughter crashed over his brain like pieces of glass, sending sharp pains unlike anything he’d ever experienced. “Such pathetic declarations of resistance are futile. But I respect your conviction. There are few who dare challenge me. Perhaps I will keep your soul somewhat intact. It would be fun to have a plaything after centuries of imprisonment. But that will have to wait. Let us begin the merging.”

James cried in pain as the ritual began. He felt everything all at once. His wound burned like thousands of burning parasites slithering into his heart and spreading throughout his body. He convulsed as his mind split in two.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. There was a pain he couldn’t describe, something beyond the physical. As time seemed to slow, he recognized what it was: his soul dying.

With each passing second, he was losing part of himself. That suffering hurt worse than anything they could do to his body. He couldn’t handle it. Everything faded as the ache grew to be too much.

“Yes, yes!” Shivatha roared. “The absorption is working. The vessel is holding. Soon I will be free!” She forcefully opened James’ eyes and suppressed the pain. A welcomed mercy from his new master as she chided, “You shall not die today, James Everett. You must witness the beginning of this world’s end. Once our bond is complete, our work begins.”

Purple lightning crackled across the sky, illuminating the waving tentacles that floated as if they weighed nothing. Waves of purple light pulsed down the one attached to the dagger. With each new pulse, a separate tentacle shriveled into ash. Shivatha’s transfer inched ever closer.

“Look at them,” the Old One said, turning James’ eyes toward the witches. “It’s surprising such fragile beings managed to accomplish something that will change this world. Look at the disgusting smiles on their faces. They are so pleased with themselves. What do you think? Should I reward them?”

“You should kill them,” James said without hesitation.

“Oh? Yes… I feel your anger. Your disdain. You’re mad because you believe they betrayed you.”

“They did this to me!”

“That they did… But they brought us together…Hmm… How’s this… As a token of my gratitude for your sacrifice, I will put their fate in your hands. Once the transfer is complete, whatever you decide to do with them, I will grant you.”

“You don’t have to ask. You know my answer.”

“Do I?” Shivatha said with a slight grin. “Even after everything, I see conflict inside of you. You can’t lie to me, James.”

He hated that she was right. They deserved to die. They’d killed him or damned him to an eternity of torture by some horrible monster. Yet he’d never killed anyone in his life. They were still human. His head pounded with indecision.

He watched as the final tentacle curled. A feeling of crippling despair washed over him. It didn’t matter what he chose. This world was going to end. Even if he kept them alive there would be nothing left. He questioned whether that damnation for eternity would be a more fitting end.

“Have you decided?” Shivatha asked. “The moment to choose is almost upon us—”

A flash of light blinded him, and a concussive boom followed. The smell of burnt flesh filled James’ nose. The witches' screams rang in the air.

Everything happened so fast.

When James opened his eyes, the black-cloaked figure from Gedney’s floated in the air above him. Three streams of smoke that rose into the air were the only thing he could see of Mellicent and her crew. She gazed down at James before looking up at the final tentacle.

Shivatha’s panicked voice echoed in his mind. “What has she done? If she stops the transfer before it’s finished—”

The hooded woman’s voice boomed across the horizon as she waved her arms in sequence. A bright golden circle, with shapes like the ones underneath him, formed in front of her hands. A chain with human-sized links shot out of it and wrapped around the colossal tendril.

Shivatha let out a bestial shout from the void as the tentacle thrashed around. “No! This cannot be!”

Golden electricity shocked the appendage, filling the surrounding countryside with a sun’s worth of light. With another incantation, a column of green circles scribed in runes formed along its length. With a swipe of her hands, the witch severed the last piece of Shivatha into a hundred pieces. Purple blood and chunks of flesh rained from the sky above.

“No—” Shivatha’s voice left James’ mind. His body felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from it. The relief was instantaneous, and he felt control again.

James took slight movements, ensuring he felt no discomfort. There was a lingering stiffness, like his body had sat in the same position for too long, and he was overwhelmingly exhausted. But to his surprise, he felt no discomfort, even with the blade sticking out of his chest.

He rolled to his side and pushed himself off of his knees. His legs shook when he stood. He stumbled back and leaned on the shattered wall. It creaked under his weight. It was long enough for him to catch his breath.

When he had it, he pushed himself off the wall and shambled forward. He saw two smoldering humps in the middle of the room. Using his foot, he kicked them to the side to reveal Annabelle and Dorothy, their bodies charred black in a pattern that looked like lightning.

Dorothy’s body had changed dramatically. Horns protruded from her forehead. A long, smooth tail curved from her bottom with a sharp point on the end. Her fingernails and toenails were filed into sharp points. Tattered wings covered her naked lifeless body.

When he realized the third was missing, he heard a creak behind him and felt the cold iron of a knife pressed up against his neck. He instinctively raised his hands.

“Don’t move,” Mellicent wheezed. James could feel her heated breath on his upper back. Each one was short and weak. It was clear she was in agony.

When the hooded figure dropped in front of them, Mellicent pressed the dagger harder into James’ neck and shuffled him backward. The only expression he could see under the cloak was the scorn on the woman’s lips.

She paced side-to-side as Mellicent shrieked, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done! Centuries of planning and searching, gone! We were this close. Why Yokai!”

The woman’s accent was unfamiliar, and thick, but she spoke English. “Because you’d destroy everything. I must stop you.”

“You may have killed the others, but you won’t kill me.”

James heard the familiar phrase of an incantation from Mellicent, and light illuminated behind him. Yokai waved her hands in the air and did the same. When she extended her arms, lightning shot from her fingertips and hit him square in the stomach.

Both he and Mellicent let out a torturous cry.

James closed his eyes, his whole body lit aflame. He and his captor fell backward. When his back never hit the floor, he opened his eyes.

A mirror-like opening closed behind him. A cracked sky like stained glass surrounded him. The flash of colors disoriented him, inciting nausea. He turned every which way looking for his captor, but he couldn’t find her. He didn’t know what to do. So, he closed his eyes and waited.

I’ve got a blade sticking out of my chest and I’m not dead, James mused. What’s the worst that could happen?

James smelled the air first. It was similar to a skunk’s defense, only thicker. The heat hit him next as if he was standing in front of an open fire. Then he heard the whistle of the wind. He fell for nearly a minute longer before his back hit the sand with a heavy thud.

James choked, trying to get some air in his lungs. He took a deep breath, only to choke again, but this time from the sand flying into his mouth.After spitting and scraping his tongue, he stood and got his bearings.

All he could see was an ocean of sand around him. The constant torrent of air that blew was like hurricane winds off the coast. The flying sand kept the visibility low. Thunder roared from thick, twisting clouds from above. He couldn’t see the sun, but some sort of light source caked everything in an orange light.

When he turned around, he saw a decrepit frame of a building that felt oddly familiar. He tilted his head, only to realize what it was. It was his family’s estate house, except it had spent years under the constant assault of sand.

All James could think about at the moment was finding shelter. Soreness seeped into his body. The shock of lightning and fall from great distance certainly didn’t help. As he looked around, a thought popped into his mind.

If this is actually my house, maybe there is a cellar? he wondered. James marched around the wooden frame toward the back of the house. Two worn doors creaked on their hinges as the violent gusts pressed against them. James lifted one open and looked down.

Worn brick stairs led down to a pitch of darkness. He had no light, but it was the best immediate option he had. He left one side of the door open to allow some light in and proceeded down.

James had hoped it would mirror his home and be full of bottles of food and drink. Unfortunately, only broken wooden shelves and cracked glass leaned against the walls. He tried to be thankful. It provided a welcome reprieve from both the heat and the wind.

James sat down just beyond the stairs. His body and mind were shot from the events that’d just happened. He couldn’t believe it. It felt like a dream. One that he’d hope he could go to sleep and wake up from. But before he could get comfortable, he knew he had to do something about the dagger sticking out of his chest.

James sat up on his knees and braced both hands around the dagger’s grip. He took quick breaths to ready himself for any impending pain. His stomach churned at the thought. But he pushed the thought aside, clenched his jaw, and pulled with every ounce of energy that remained.

The blade flung across the room; the metal echoing as it bounced along the floor. He felt a pinch and a throbbing pain, but similar relief to that of pulling out a splinter. With each beat of his heart, he watched as a purple ooze pumped from his wound.

James wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be concerned or not. This day was the culmination of a lot of weird firsts. When he touched his wound, the fluid reminded him of honey.

“At least it’s not blood,” he mused.

He sat and waited. As his head bobbed in and out of consciousness for what felt like an hour, the last bit of purple goop finally slid from his wound. It covered his lower half before slipping onto the cobblestone floor.

When James looked down, his eyes widened. The hole in his chest was completely gone. There was no sign of a wound or any injury. He was completely healed.

“This is getting crazier by the minute,” he said.

With no immediate dangers, James leaned his head on the side of his arm and curled into a ball. As he closed his eyes, he hoped to wake up in his bed and for this nightmare to be all over.

What he didn’t realize was this was just the beginning.