Bloody Mary

It had been long time since Old Sam had even a single follower. Actually, as he lived here longer and gave it more and more thought, probably the man never had any followers. Those, who he remembered being such, were all fake. As fake, as he. Still, once the Danava arrived to this realm he had not felt even one prayer directed at him. Not a lone sacrifice given. As the dreaded mage kicked him out on the streets, he was forced to survive on measly rituals. Rituals, that wasn't even directed to him, but were done more because of a puny believe of higher power. From these scraps then he survived and managed to earn new scraps as years went and passed.

But lately the Danava felt better. Not great, but better. While his flesh still had an appearance of an old, old man, there was less grey in it. The milky layer covering the man's eyes was more transparent and the overall appearance simply seemed better. Don't get me wrong, though! If someone would see Old Sam for the first time he would still look like a starving, age old man, that had a smile too big for his state of life, but those, who knew the old one for some years already were able to see difference. And all of them knew it was thanks to Mary even if their guess on how she helped wasn't exactly precise.

Mary Bethany Jones first stopped by Old Sam around two months ago. It was one of those days, when the Danava had no luck with people. She just took pity of the old man and even paid for the bone charm he so insistently wanted to give her for free. She was a black girl with natural, curly hair, well shaped body, big brown eyes, but terribly dark circles under them thanks to the fact she liked to overwork herself. After returning home Mary even took the beggars advice and wore something purple next day while attaching the bone charm to her bag. The girl found it a bit appealing.

That day passed nicely. Nothing great happened, but everything in general went smoothly. The girl even got earlier out of work while finishing the same workload as always. For some reason Mary felt inclined to visit the old man and thank him, not even sure for what. And while at first it seemed dumb, she did buy few pastries at the bakery, she went to the spot where the beggar usually sat with his trinkets and she did spend few hours talking to him and even paying for another of his little handy-crafts. This time it was a feather and twig necklace.

So weeks pass and weeks went. Samedi at the very start had a feeling this girl will be good news and it turned out she was even better. In time real belief had started to come from her, as the old god was able to gift her with more luck. Not only that, she also came to visit Old Sam quite often and he would then pack up his small spot and walk with her through a park or just around the city, while telling tales of his „youth". Of course, he skipped the parts that would suggest he was something more than an old man, but even skipping those there was many good stories and sometimes the day would end with both still talking and Mary going home with a wide, wide smile on her face.

As more and more stories were told the Danava started to tell her about the legend of „Baron Samedi". He planned to plant a idea of worshipping him and, maybe, in time she would at least give it a second thought, but, once the old man told her that all these rituals came from the voodoo gods cult she quickly got deeply interested in it. And Old Sam got nothing else to do then tell her. Tell her what this god liked, and what he didn't. Tell her some small rituals to gain his favour and, if you prayed long and hard enough, if one really believed in him, Baron Samedi could gift them with real voodoo magic.

And it wasn't long after that, when Old Sam, someone who never expected a day like this to come, felt a single prayer, a quiet, but dedicated voice, to speak a worship to the strongest of Lao. He just sat there and cried out of happiness.

The day started as always. Old Sam got up early in the morning, left the homeless people shelter and set up his regular spot. Many beggars liked to change place from place, but many people already knew him by name and were regular patrons to the old man with his small trinkets. And this day planned to be like no other. He sat there, on ground, with a big, cheerful smile, whistling a tune lost from the mankind aeons ago. The old top-hat filled nicely today with change and that was good, though, someone stopping for a charm would be even better. Samedi, though, didn't worry about that too much, as he had Mary.

As hours passed and sun was almost above the black man, something disturbing happened. Something, that filled his reserves with more power, than he had ever felt, while being in this world, but, in the same time, making the Danavas blood freeze in his veins. This surge of power evened out his wrinkles on the skin, cleared the milky layer on his eyes and returned some flesh to his bones. From 90 years old in few seconds he went to age of sixty and people around him at that moment stared with mild surprise. London had far more stranger things happened, as it was ruled by demons, but the fact that the old, starving looking beggar was one was a small shock for few, who knew him longer.

But Samedi didn't care who saw him. He didn't care, that he regained some of his youthful appearance. He didn't care about any of it, as the man wasn't where his body was. No, instead the voodoo god was in a small, dark room. A closet or basement. And in that basement he could feel Mary. And she was crying. And she was praying. Words weren't spoken loudly, but nonetheless, they reached him. They reached the ears of the god she was praying too.
„I pray, cause you have always been listening." The voice from her thoughts were mixing with the quiet sobs in the closet, making it even more painful for the old man. „Please, please help me! Please, grant me the power I have heard stories from. I don't want to die! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!!!" These pleads were loud, painful, but full with so much worship it even felt pleasant and this was why Samedi felt so sick to his stomach. And the worst part, he couldn't help her in any way.

A flash, a pull and Old Sam was back on the streets, seeing how people were staring at him and feeling their eyes following his every move. The man didn't care for the trinkets he left behind, but simply got up and ran. Ran in a random direction, not knowing where to really go. The Danava felt so helpless, while feeling stronger than he had ever been. Energy was pulsing through the demons veins and, if trying really hard, he may try to even perform a spell or two. But there was no time or need. Right now he needed to save all his power, if there was any chance for the man to save Mary. Even if Baron Samedi didn't even know, where she was kept.

As his stamina ran out and the demon was left without breath he finally stopped. Panting hard, trying to catch for his breath, Old Sam tried to come up with some sorts of a plan. While gaining a slight boost in his energy reserves, he didn't have the slightest clue how to use them at this moment. His mind was like a blank page, filled with wild emotions and loud heartbeats. The praying had ended some time ago and it really terrified the man. Looking around Samedi saw that he had wandered to a unknown location of the city. Somewhere he had never been before. There was, like almost everywhere, overly modern house, fancy shops and a lot of people. What caught the Danava's attention, though, was a sewing supply shop. A sudden idea popped up in his head.

After 10 minutes of looking for the thread and pins, that would suit his needs, as well, as arguing with the shopkeeper about how he didn't steal anything, Old Sam was out of the shop and on the streets, running to where he left his stuff. For no surprise someone had taken the liberty of stealing many items, including the old top hat with the man's hard earned money, his lunch and few of the most valuable trinkets he had made. Thanks to whatever forces existed, they had left behind the Danava's printed map of the city. In the age of modern technologies it was hard to find one of these and, while it may be outdated by few hundred years, Samedi was able to get around with it quite find.

He secured the item in his coats inner pocket next to the box of sewing pins and a red string, and went to find a bit more peaceful place for his spell. A place like that was rather hard to find, him being forced to settle for a bathroom stall in a cafe. At start the staff stared at the man with suspicions, but, as he pulled out a worn wallet and paid for a drink, talking like a civilized, maybe a bit out-dated human being, they relaxed and he was able to go to the bathroom in peace.

Once there the man lay the map on the toilet seat and stabbed the map with needles in, seemingly, random pattern. Then Old Sam pulled the string between these needles, creating a crude symbol over the town of London. Lastly a drop of blood was added, bringing the illustrations on the map alive. The ink swirled and shifted, breaking down what was drawn on it and then rearranging it to a new picture. Now it was the map of modern London, having a glowing, red dot somewhere near the cafe.

Samedi left the establishment in a hurry, leaving the map where it was. His energy was slightly drained from that simple locater spell, but he still felt physically better than he had in years. Mentally, though, the Danava was drained and confused. The prayers had returned, stronger then before, making both his body flow with new strength, but mind going numb as to how desperate were these calls for help. Mary was on verge on giving up, but she believed her hardest. It was painful.

It took around 20 minutes, but seemed a lot, lot more, just too much, before reaching the apartment building Mary should be in. Her praying yet again had stopped, but, closer he got to the girl, stronger he felt a connection to her. His heart was racing and the man could feel it was same for her. The building she was kept was a multi-story apartment building with lack security, if any at all, and was easy to get in. Old Sam had no idea why she was here, but, living in a city full of demons, the Danava had few guesses and each was more terrifying than the last.

Sixth floor was the very top. Mary's life line was felt somewhere around here and, lucky for him, there was only one apartment. Samedi took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts and calming the heart. It wasn't smart to rush in like that, knowing, that everything was stronger then him. He carefully tried the doors, but, of course, they were locked. Burrowing into his new found power and digging up powers not used for years, heat started to gather in his palm, slowly turning into black energy. The smell of melting metal filled his lungs and eyes welled up from the smoke.

Finally the door, though, gave up and he slowly opened them. Quickly brushing off the hot metal before it got through his newly awakened Akuma Kyōdo, the man really hoped it wouldn't start a fire on something in the apartment. The hallway in front was dark, with little light. It smelled of candle wax, mixed with blood and, shuddering at the thought, flesh. As Samedi went forward it was more then obvious Mary was here, but in what condition, was the question the Danava feared getting answered to. The next room looked as meant for eating and watching TV, a terrible device, that consumed too much time, energy and attention. It was turned off, bunch of empty snack bags rotting in front of it.

He left this room and followed the feeling of the girls life line. It was strong, which was good, but still there were no prayers from the girl, what, again, set the man's heart to sting. Finally the demon reached the right place. It was a large room, many times bigger then the one he saw in his vision. Filled with half burned out candles, Mary lay naked on the table, cuts going through her whole body, blood already dried on her skin. There was an dark aura in this place, giving now no doubts of something related with sacrificial magic. Old Sam ran to the girl, removing the straps that held her to the table and moving away the hair on her face, slapping it lightly to wake her up.

Mary's eyes opened and a weak smile formed on them,
„You came. I called and you came." The Danava wanted to say something. That she is hallucinating or something like that, but a heavy, strong arm grabbed him by the shoulder and flung at the other side of the room. Samedi hit the wall hard, loosing all the air from his lungs. As he tried to clear the clouded vision from the hit, something black was directed at him and the old man managed to escape the blast just in time before the wall behind him was shattered. A snobbish voice, with the most broken English accent ever spoke,
„Sacrifices is something you won't steal from a loyal warrior of Shadow Fall, you old fag!"

As the man's vision cleared completely he saw that now, between him and Mary stood a tall, tall demon. He was around 6'8. Maybe even 6'9. A pair of horns, seemed to be made out of metal, rose out of his head, strongly remind those of a bull. He had black, crow-like eyes and patches of scales went through his skin. Samedi shakily got up, the old man's back aching badly from hitting the wall, but with strong, steady voice he spoke,
„Ya' don't think you got this maan right! She free lady! And pretty as a daffodil too! So scurry away, if ya' fell'ng like shitt'ng tomorrow." The Danava hoped he will buy it and really leave them be, even if there was little chance on that.

And he was right, as the black eyes narrowed in short slits, as his body disappeared in shadows, just to appear next to Samedi in the next moment. A hard punch and the demon flew again against another wall. A loud banging noise signalled the man's landing. The Shadow Fall goon didn't wait long for his next attack, a black energy ball flying in his direction. Samedi push to disappear in the shadows and appear a bit further. The power he collected was quickly draining away, as his body was trying to heal itself on top of him using powers, that were usually left untouched.

The old god tried to use Shadow Movement again, this time aiming for the demon with his fist, but once he appeared there the horned beast wasn't there any-more, instead a iron hard fist landed directly on the man's backbone. The pain was unbearable and it seemed that maybe he even broke something, but the Old Sam had no time to actually feel what was it, as series of hardened punches landed at his body again and again, this time the breaking of the Danava's bones being quite obvious. Samedi was close to passing out, if not someone quiet prayers in his head.

The Baron pushed his mind to dull the pain, get over it and activate the Shadow Movement yet another time. Shadows swallowed his body to spit it out at the far side of the room. The old man combined his healing factor with Shadow Movement and Akuma Kyōdo to fix himself at least as much, as to be able to move. Only two thoughts were in his head, to not die in this world and save Mary. These were the only things he really cared, the rest being completely unimportant. The shadows yet again swallowed him, their presence putting an extremely heavy burden on the old gods weak flesh, but he kept ignoring it, just pushing himself forward for survival.

And Samedi was almost there. He almost reached the table, where Mary had been left. But then two things happened. First, the table was empty, no one being and second, the demon appeared near Old Sam, his hand changed into a long blade and it went straight for the Danava's throat. Next was a sound of flesh being pierced, bones breaking and a light gasp from a women's lips. In shock the man needed to watch as the one he tried to protect was almost cut in two. The last words, did he hear them or just imagined, he couldn't tell later on, were as fading, as fireflies at night. „You will bring me back, right?"

There was nothing more to do. Nothing left. He stepped in the shadows the last time to appear as far, as his puny energy reserves allowed. Once he appeared in some dark alley-way, the man's whole body just fell on the ground, as his mind went cold and dead. After who knows how many hours Samedi finally woke up, feeling shittier then ever before. He had reached the moment, when pain had reached such level, that didn't even hurt. Or maybe it was shock from all that he had went through in this day. One thing was for sure, even if he would survive and the demon wouldn't go looking for him in the state he was the Danava had no more power to continue as he did. He had no power or money, in that sense, to give people luck or craft those stupid charms. And what was the point, if he had one true follower and he couldn't even guard her. He failed Mary.

But through this cold numbness the man felt something different. It was like with him there was someone else. Not only that, slowly, in speed slower than snails, his energy was recovering, coming back to him. With Mary dead it shouldn't been happening, as he hadn't answered no one prayers for luck today too. But still, it was happening. And as this feeling kept on going, his energy returned and the demons body started to heal. Bones were snapping back in their rightful places, blood regenerating and bruises healing shut. Pain was close to unbearable, but Samedi kept quiet, not wanting to attract any attention. He bit his lips first and when capable of moving, the meaty side of his palm. Blood ran from it, but it was better then screaming. And when that pain ended and the Danava was able to think thoughts after thoughts raced through his mind.

He searched. Searched for the reason of this warmth and as his mind became clearer, the man came to understand what was that was with him. The Danava closed his eyes and as he opened them the scenery had completely changed. The big, dark city had been changed into a swamp. It was night time and all around little fire flies were buzzing around. A lone alligator splashed water somewhere, a snake slid through a bush while catching a lizard to snack on. Samedi didn't believe he was here again, but then again, this was probably the weirdest day asides from the one, when he arrived here. The old god slowly walked around an old wooden shack. Overgrown with hanging moss and other swamp plant-life, once these kind of house were all through-out the swamps and housed many of the voodoo gods followers.

At the back of this exact house was a cemetery. It was larger than one would imagine for such a house, as it stretched seemingly forever in the swamp. All the tombstones had no names, except one and next to this one tombstone a transparent, white ghost sat. She still wore her work clothes and seemed sad, but with a smile on her face. As if she would be reminiscing in some pleasant memories. Mary then rose her head, spread into even more wider smile and spoke. No sound came from her lips, but Samedi very well knew what she was telling him,
„I knew it was you!"