The Demon Side by Heaven Liegh Eldeen Read Free Book Online Page A

that suit of armor, my sword at my side, blood on my hands and face, and no memory of how I got there. I tried to teleport my way back home, but I could not remember the sequence of words.”
    Etta looked out the small slotted window to the river below. Though I couldn’t see what she saw, I bent over her, placing a hand on each side of her on the wooden studs of the wall and pointed to the spot I remembered so well. I waited a moment before continuing. Etta made no attempt to get out from under me. Being so close to her enticed my senses. The aroma of lavender body wash and kiwi shampoo invaded my nostrils. The glow of her skin beckoned me to caress it. In all my years I’ve never wanted to take something or someone so strongly. But I’m a Demon. I’m not a monster. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. I had to resist my urges and turn my thoughts back to the objective at hand.
    “Back then there was nothing here, just a forest of pine, ivy, and ferns taller than you. The boredom of waiting on the water’s edge for a summons back home drove me mad until one day I finally decided to walk into the forest to look for my shield. I found a Native American village not too far from here. They called themselves Omàmiwinini, but history books today refer to them as Algonquians. I sat and watched their superstitious ways and rituals almost every day. They were a stale group of people. Their daily routines of hunting, gathering, and playing became immensely boring for a creature like me. I assumed I would be called back to my home soon, so I didn’t bother terrorizing them.
    “Almost a century passed and still no word came from my master, Lucifer. I grew impatient. I was on my way to the village to start having some real fun when I sensed a major power source coming from down river. The year was 1608 and the Europeans were beginning to settle on the Potomac. They were filled with everything I needed to not only survive but flourish—malice, hate, and a fear so rich in their hearts I could literally taste it on my tongue. Their settlement was great for me, but not so much for the Algonquians.
    “I roamed through the settlements, implanting fear and hysteria in the hearts of the Europeans, causing them to turn on the Algonquians and vice versa. The natives that were lucky enough to survive the mayhem I created fled the area, leaving me with only the settlers to play with. Once the Europeans were finished killing everything in sight that wasn’t white, Catholic or Protestant, they began to build homes and farms. That was their first mistake. You should never build on top on a Native American killing ground; life will never be the same. It will become cursed. The spirits of the Algonquian people always remain in the land they once inhabited and protected. Those who try to live there will become ill and insane. At least I led the settlers to believe that.
    “But it wasn’t until a home was built in this spot that I became trapped. They broke ground for a root-cellar and uncovered my shield. When I retrieved it, an enormous fire broke out. I tried to step through the flames to sit by the river and watch the panic, but found myself stuck inside the wall of fire. When my shield was unearthed, my territory had been set. On the inside of the fiery line, I could see everything as it was and is. On the outside of the line, I could only see my Hell. With such a small area to roam, there wasn’t much to keep me occupied or fully powered.
    “A preacher built the two-room cabin for his wife and four daughters. When they finished the log house, I moved in with the unknowing family. After coming in from a very short walk, testing my new downsized perimeter one day, I saw just what a holy man he was as he laid on top of his youngest girl, while his wife looked the other way, baking bread. I had moved in with the perfect source for the energy I needed. After his untimely death, the family moved and another family just as deserving