King Of Crows

When Dr. Jonathan Fry wakes up after being knocked unconscious he knows he must do one thing. Save Daniel Davies: a sick teenage boy who needs psychiatric treatment for his uncontrollable rage. What must he save him from? The boys father, convinced his son is possessed.

Evil goes by many names and God can't save Jonathan, or anyone else, actually. Not from the King Of Crows...


2. King

I reach the front door of the empty house. Dead silence penetrates my ears. A full moon illuminated through the open door, bathing everything in a pale blue.
“Mr Davies?! Mr Davies where are you?!”
a guttural scream pierced the air. That awful sound originated from the barn. Was it Mr Davies? His son? Where was Mrs Davies? I walk towards the barn, my head clearing in the cold air. The barn door was open slightly, hiding the darkness within. The cold air hung surrounded me. The silence deafened me. I begin to feel fear seize me. It tore its way up my spine and made my hair stand on end. I can’t enter this barn. I won’t. But what has happened to them all? Father Lewis was slaughtered. And that scream was one of absolute pain. I decide to run. This has nothing to do with me. I don’t want to die. I begin to turn when -
“Please Mr Fry, won’t you join us?”
This was a new voice. Cold. Smooth as silk. Cruel. Sad.  This voice makes my soul tremble. I feel like crying. Yet the power of the voice compels me to move.
I open the door.
I catch my breath.
Hell is revealed.

The torches in the barn and a small hearth were sporting amazing flames; an aura of red illuminates the barn. I find Mrs Davies. She is to my right, pinned to floor - a pitch fork thrust through her abdomen. Her eyes are open and her face is frozen in an eternal scream. A pool of red flows around her. My heart goes into my throat. Who did this?

“Mr Fry you’re so pale. Have you seen a ghost?”
I turn to the centre of the room. There is Daniel Davies, shirtless in pyjama bottoms and slippers. He’s standing there with a small smile on his face. He is tall for his age. Black hair. Black eyes. Literally black! No pupil. No iris. No cornea. Two eyes of pure black. Pools of black marble. He is young but strong. A life time of farm work has made him physically fit. A groan reaches my ears.
“Oh, Mr Davies. I had almost forgotten about you.”
The voice belonged to the boy! But it was not that of a child. It was the voice of a middle aged gentleman, cruel and sad beyond his years. Daniel, or at least what looked like Daniel, looked down towards the floor. Mr Davies was lying at his feet, Daniels right foot resting upon the side of his head. From across the room I could see the awful break in Mr Davies knee. The joint was bent backwards; bone stuck out of the back of his shin, blood flowed freely from it.
“Now Mr Fry let me just finish here. I will be with you in a moment.” The boy showed his teeth in a polite smile.
He lowered his foot closer to the ground, crushing Mr Davies head as if it wasn’t there.  Sounds of cracking and gushing permeated the air. With no effort at all Daniel had broken the man’s skull and walked closer towards me in the same elegant movement. I want to run but my body is frozen.
“Now Mr Fry, no running away. That is simply rude.” The hell-child snapped his finger and the door behind me slammed shut. I was thrown backwards by some invisible force, pinned to one of the doors.
“Who- who are you?” I whimper. My whole world has been overthrown by fear. This thing is not human. It’s a monster. That was not Daniels voice, nor was it Daniel behind those iron eyes.
“Me? I go by many names Mr Fry, for I have been alive far longer than any name given. I have been named the king of crows. The bringer of fire. Zasalamel. Ripper. Viktor. Lucien. Many other names have passed my ears but most are too disgusting to pass my lips. I have a fondness for The King of Crows. You may call me King. Before you ask your next question, Mr Fry, I shall answer it for you. You already know what I am. I am one of those who have plagued your kind since the beginning. I am one of the first sons of Chaos: the infinite darkness before time and God. I am a demon. One of the first.”

With every word spoken by the sad voice I can feel my gut twist and fear envelope me even more.
“A demon? But how are you here? Why are you here?” I don’t want to know the answers but my inner scientist wants to learn more of this new discovery.
He is now just two metres away from me, parallel with Mrs Davies body. The smell of death was like a mist in the air. He stood upright yet relaxed. He has a grace of endless beauty. I could feel sadness radiate from his skin. Looking at him was like standing in the hospital morgue after a fatal epidemic.
“How am I here? I have you to thank for that. You see I have been inside this… boy for days. Fighting with his soul, which was very strong. The priests exorcisms slowed me down but I saw an end to that,” the wolfish smile played his lips again, “You sedated the boy, putting him into a deep sleep. While in this sleep I took his soul and tore it to shreds. This is my vessel now. As for why I am here, that is my own business. I will however say this: It will be the end of your pathetic race.”
I looked into his eyes. I saw flame and stars and mist and death. I saw death within his eyes.“G-god save me… God help me please!” I whimper as I begin to cry.
The demon had mentioned God; maybe if he was real he would help!
King began laughing. It was cruel and deep. Like a star about to swallow a planet. He was a god walking the earth. He raised his left arm, reaching out towards the corpse of Mrs Davies. The pitch fork within the poor woman began sliding out. Moving by itself, it lifted out of the body with a sickening squelch. The farming tool, now red with blood and gore flew towards King as he caught it effortlessly. Still smiling his cruel, cold smile he drew back his arm and threw the pitch fork like a javelin.

Pain shook me to my core. I whimpered and screamed. I was still pinned to the door. Not only by the invisible force though. Thebarbs of the fork have pierced through me and the barn door. Red dripped down my front, and then flowed. King walked slowly towards me, the other half of the door opening fully, as if to let royalty through. He stopped next to me and looked sideways onto my gasping, pale face. The torches and the hearth snuffed out simultaneously. The force holding me up disappeared and my weight was held by the fork thrust through my lower stomach. I gasped out in pain once again as I looked towards King. The pain is unimaginable. The right half of King’s face is illuminated silver by the moon as the other half is left in total shadow. The black eyes looked into mine. He said something calmly to me then walked away laughing quietly to himself. My vision darkened as my life slipped away from me. All hope slipped away from me as Kings final words swam through my head, eviscerating my soul.
“Your God died long ago. I killed him.”

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