Cedric: the Demonic Knight - Chapter 1 & 2

Chapter 1: Present Day

It was another dead Thursday night at the smoke-filled hole-in-the-wall bar, Rusty’s. The bartender set out to look busy, vigorously scrubbing the bar top, waiting for the regulars to drag in. There was a wet musk scent in the air. Besides the homeless man in the back booth, there was not a soul in the joint. Most of the people rolled in closer to midnight after their late shifts and were gone within an hour. Startled by the bell on the door, the bartender failed to see someone settle into the chair nearest him.

Perhaps he was daydreaming again, but it was rather early for this particular customer to be here tonight. The regular appeared across from him as if he had been there all evening. He never saw the man come or go, ever. The customer did not give out his name and it was rare for the man to talk. He was just the “silent patron” over the past three months since he started coming in on Thursdays. At least he tipped well, paid in cash, and always ordered vodka on the rocks, top-shelf stuff. The bartender started making the drink without having to ask.

“Evening.” A deep stern voice flowed from the lips of the regular. He was a broad-shouldered man and wore a hooded sweatshirt and baseball cap, the brim low, hiding the expression on his face. “Slow night?”

“It’s Thursday,” Tony, the bartender, replied, relieved that the man at the bar was willing to talk for a change. “Here you go, one Goose on the rocks. Besides, you’ve been here every Thursday. It’s always slow.”

The bartender slid the glass toward his customer, who met him halfway. There was a slight pause, as Tony could not help but stare at the man’s left hand as it glided the drink away. He was missing his ring finger and curiosity was itching at the back of Tony’s mind once more. Tonight, he decided to investigate the story behind the man’s missing digit.

“I just have to ask. How did you lose your finger?” He gave the mysterious customer a conversational grin. “Was it work-related? I get some good stories from a lot of the guys about how their wedding bands saved their lives and cost them their fingers.”

“No.” The man took a sip from his drink and gently placed it back down. “I refuse to let it grow back… That’s the only reason why it’s still missing.”

“What?” A sickening weight of dread came over Tony as he realized something was not natural in the man’s tone of voice. The other servers were right; something was very creepy about the Thursday night regular with the missing finger. This had to be a sick joke. He wasn’t serious, right? “You what?”

“I refuse to let it grow back.” Holding up his left hand, he raised his head, covering his expression except for one gleaming green eye that stared menacingly at Tony where the finger had once been. “When I find her again, I’ll allow it to come back. I know she is still out there. She is alive, but just out of my reach. I feel her even after all these centuries.”

“What are you?” Paling, Tony’s life drained from him. His instincts screaming, he reasoned against them. This was not your typical drunk off the streets, or was he? He finally stuttered his decision. “Y-You must be d-drunk.”

“I am nothing for you to be afraid of.” Tony could now see the strong jawline and grave expression the stranger had on his face as he spoke. Finishing his vodka, the green-eyed man slid the glass back to him, beckoning for another. “The others make you work tonight because they can’t stand being in the same room as me. Shocked you’re still alive, in fact. You are the only human in the entire lot of bartenders that work here. Normally they would have taken advantage, but then again, there is a good reason as to why they haven’t yet.”

“What are you talking about?” Tony’s body moved automatically, bartending on its own. Shaking, he refilled the glass and reluctantly slid it back to his now frightening customer. “Cut it out. You’re go-going to spook me away, too, you know?”

“Forgive me.” His grin revealed wolf-like fangs as he scoffed to himself. “Call me Cedric. I am no enemy to you, just looking for someone to talk to, that’s all. I have spent a lot of time alone with only my thoughts for company. Sometimes it’s nice to talk with another person, instead of being trapped in one’s own thoughts…”

“Ced-Cedric.” Stammering, Tony was ready to melt where he stood, but something about Cedric made his curiosity override the fear clawing at him. A cold sweat sent chills across his back, his hands gripping the edge of the cooler of beer, afraid of his own questions. “How do you know about the other bartenders? What on earth did you say to spook them?”

“They are all female, yes?” He paused mid-sip while staring into the bartender’s eyes, realizing he’d failed to explain the significance of this fact. “Female vampires have an easier time than the males in regard to hiding that they are not human. They can control their bloodlust much better and tend to inherit and master illusion-based traits more often. Anyhow, they could smell my blood and knew something was not right. It’s like mice serving drinks to a hungry cat, or worse, a starving lion.”

“Vampires?” Feeling silly for letting himself get so worked up over a fairytale, Tony began to rationalize the story. Nodding, he gave Cedric a dismissive smile, “That’s cute. Yes, women are like vampires.”

“You don’t believe me? Well, I suppose not in today’s world.” Cedric took a sip of his drink again. “Let me tell you a story, then, perhaps we can be friends? I do miss having someone to talk to…”

“I don’t know, Cedric. You’re a little out of my league at this rate.” Praying he had not offended him, Tony topped off Cedric’s glass, eyeing the missing finger once more. “You can call me Tony.”

“Well, Tony, I’ll make it a Thursday ritual to tell you my story. I have nothing else to do while I wait. It’s been far too long since I last indulged in another’s company.” Cedric let out a heavy sigh. His eyes grew dull, as if looking far into the past as he spoke on. “My best friend, he passed away not too long ago. The old dog lived far too long for his kind, but I was glad to have someone like that to help me during those hard times. Good friends are hard to come by, especially in my case. He was all I had after I lost my girl…”

“So sorry to hear that.” Tony watched as Cedric’s green eyes became vacant for several minutes; the weight of pain and sorrow was unmistakable in his gaze. “It’s never good to lose a close friend, or your girl.”

“Where to start?” The shine returned to Cedric’s eyes as he finished another glass of vodka and nodded for his refill. “How about the first night I saw her? It’s only appropriate. Like the poet said so many years ago; ‘whoever loved that loved not at first sight’…”

“Yes, tell me about this girl of yours.” Tony eagerly refilled the glass, waiting to hear what kind of story this was going to be…

Chapter 2: Cedric’s story the 12th Century

A scream broke the cold air, shattering the calm. A villager scrambled to keep his footing over the wet cobblestones, fleeing the castle’s stables. He failed to cry for help as he struggled to control his tongue. Swallowing, he shrieked the reason behind his fear.

“Werewolf! Werewolf!”

Not far from the battered man stood a massive hulk of fur. Baring its teeth, the werewolf displayed jaws large enough to chomp any man in half, drool dripping across the ground. The damp night made the inner castle courtyard seem empty in the full moon as it peeked over the towers. The villager slipped, taking a hard fall onto the road, gripping his bloody side where the beast had torn into him earlier.

“Be still.” The thunderous voice rumbled from the werewolf’s chest as it stalked closer. The muscled monster’s saliva dripped heavily, like rain at the villager’s feet. “I am in no mood to chase something so small.”

“Help!” was all he could manage before coughing consumed him.

“Go on, cry for help.” The werewolf crouched, laughing in a roar. “Cry out in pain and fear! No one can save you! They have all locked their doors and windows! No nobleman is going to crawl out of his bed to save a man who is nothing but stable scum! What a shame!”

“What of a lord, then?” The villager’s heart skipped to hear someone else besides the beast before him, hope flooding his emotions.

The monster’s laughter stopped, ears folding back on his head as it turned toward the direction of the questioner.

“Who are you, pest?” Growling, the werewolf returned to all fours, his tail whipping from side to side.

“I am Lord Cedric.” Cedric’s green eyes flashed from where he crouched on the ground next to the castle walls. He slowly stood, grinning, showing he was tall, broad, and fearless against the werewolf that stood before him. “I thought you were going to hide all night. It’s a shame that you are only a street dog. I can see why Romasanta left you behind.”

“Quiet you!” Barking and growling, foam dripped from the werewolf’s mouth. “You have no business speaking my master’s name! I shall devour you for such insolence!”

“I am afraid you are the meal tonight.” Drawing his sword Cedric sighed, his black-tipped, blood-red hair shifting in a gust of wind. “You are very naïve to think you are the predator here, mutt.”

The werewolf’s yellow eyes widened. Crouching, he took a more offensive stance. “The demonic knight who feeds on his own kind, I have heard of you! You’re an abomination upon this Earth! I shall eat you here and end your suffering as a living being.”

“I’d like to see you try.” He held his sword loosely in his right hand and nodded, daring the creature to come for him.

The bulk of fur was instantly on the spot where Cedric stood. With equal speed and grace, Cedric placed a hand on top of the massive wolf’s head, redirecting the pre-emptive attack. Using this connection for leverage, he propelled himself over the beast with a flip and landed without faltering. Enraged at the defensive maneuver, the werewolf spun around, swinging his claw with all his weight. There was a loud clanking as sword and claw met in front of Cedric’s face. The muscles in the monster’s shoulders twitched. Jerking, Cedric leaped back. He had gained enough distance in time to see the massive jaws snap shut where his head had been a moment ago. The stench of the werewolf’s breath hung in Cedric’s nose; it was too close. Snorting, their vindictive dance continued, both of them fueling their untold desires for vengeance. A grin and sparkle grew in his green eyes. The beast’s panting became more apparent. The werewolf’s movements began slowing with each pounce.

“You’re old! I can never tell under all that fur until I start fighting, but you are already a tired old man!” Cedric jumped back, making room between them. He was allowing the old demon a moment to catch his breath as he glared back at him, growling. “You’ve eluded me for a few nights. I suppose even a veteran falls victim to the hunger at a full moon.”

“Yes, even an old salt has no willpower against the ways of demon blood.” His ears pricked forward and a toothy grin spread across his canine face. “How does one fight a cry of bloodlust with the mixed blood of many demons?”

“Unlike you, I do not feed on pawns such as humans. My lust requires stronger bloods that hold power within and it only yearns for quality, not limitless quantity. Gluttony is a sin, you know?” Placing his sword in its scabbard, Cedric straightened into a more relaxed pose. “I do not care for half-bloods very often. On the other hand, the older the half-blood, the better the meal he is. You should be a decent snack for me within castle walls.”

“Speak for yourself; you’re my meal!” Racing toward him, the pounding of the werewolf’s weight reverberated through the cobblestones at Cedric’s feet. “You should have never sheathed your sword, pest!”

“Fool!” Cedric’s voice boomed, a yelping sound escaping the great wolf; crackling bones filled the air.

Cedric had brought the large beast’s attack to an abrupt halt. The beast’s arm was broken and he could feel a sharp pain stabbing into his neck. He had fallen for Cedric’s ploy. The sword had merely been a distraction, which had allowed the demon at his neck to toy with his food. He winced as Cedric’s fangs dug deeper into him; each suckle pulled his soul further from him. A deep sigh escaped the massive chest. The last of his life drained away into the darkness of death. Finally, his soul would be at rest after living beyond his means. Perhaps falling prey to the demonic knight had been a blessing in disguise.

Cedric released his hold from the now cold heap of fur, spitting blood across the ground as he looked at the corpse with disdain. “What a waste of my time; he was near death and had very little life force to offer me…”

“Pl-please mister, I… let me live, my lord. I will tell no one!” The villager, still bleeding, had crawled to Cedric’s boots.

Smooth as silk, Cedric pulled his sword and severed the man’s head. A pot crashed down from a nearby balcony. He had come through that way, but had seen no sign of anyone. Surprised, he stared wide-eyed at the young girl frozen in fear against her balcony door. He realized that he’d neither heard nor smelled her approach as he kept his intense eye contact with her. That was the first time he laid eyes on Angeline. Her big brown eyes wide, she could not break from his gaze.

Cedric scoffed, annoyed he would have to use the other abilities of his blood right, but he had no choice in the matter. Leaping up to the balcony, a feat no mere mortal could have accomplished, he stood towering over her, their eyes locked into an endless bond.

“Be still my pet.” His whisper was tender, as if spoken from a lover.

He used what the myths called the incubine stare. The unbreakable stare allowed an incubus to ensnare their victims, tricking them into “falling in love” or even lulling them to sleep. It was usually not a dependable ability with full-blooded demons, since their powers that created an intoxicating level of sexual arousal would take hold by this point. In his case, it never failed him due to the vampiric mix in his blood. His voice came as a low, tender rumble for a whisper as he spoke to her in a songlike tone. Her fear fell away as he opened the door behind her. As he sang, she followed without hesitation.

“Don’t fret, my dear,

Come to me, close here.

Go back to sleep, now love,

I am now here, my dove.

Pay no mind to the demons below,

My eyes and heart you now follow.

Come, my pet, lay your head down,

And in dreams, you now drown.”

With the last note, he managed to lay her in bed. Her room was large and expensively furnished. A banked fire holding a low flame kept the room warm. A log fell apart into coals, popping and crackling. Curious, he sat in the embroidered chair placed in a dark corner of her chamber. Looking her over for a moment, he took in her cotton gown, thin and translucent with elegant lace flowers along its hem. She was clearly a daughter of a nobleman, a lady of the court. Unlike the stable trash painting the cobblestones crimson, her death would cause alarm. Still, he could use this to his advantage. King Frederick insisted if he, Lord Cedric, won the tournament tomorrow that he could have his pick of the ladies. In this case, he knew who he would choose to marry: this girl he had caught in his stare. It was exhausting playing the games of the lady and knight, and he was glad to be putting an end to it at last.

She was fairly plain, and he could detect a hint of the farms in her scent. He assumed she was here to make her richer cousin stand out further. Despite what the world thought, he found himself staring deeply at her. She was far more beautiful than the background purpose given to her by the nobles. Her hair was long and thick, chestnut in color, while her skin was peachy and sun-kissed. The lips on her sleeping face folded out like the wide petals of a rose. She was lucky that she had gotten to her age untouched. With her voluptuous hips and the muscling in her arms and legs, she was a pleasant sight. She would have made for a good fight to any that may have tried to force themselves on her. A scowl came across his face. He cursed his incubine blood and the uncanny awareness it gave him of both age and sexual status.

A malicious grin crawled across his lips. Indeed, she would be a fitting mate for a short time and a better lure for bigger prey on his journeys. Yes, he would use this girl to attract his prey.

Bait.

Cedric: The Demonic Knight (The Cedric Series 01)

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