Demons Of Eden

“In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between, there are doors.” ― William Blake

Floating, warm and lazy, drifting toward sleep, I knew the precise moment he entered my mind. My breath quickened and my heart raced, fear and anticipation wrangled in my belly. Images flashed so fast I could barely catch them. Brief glimpses of a dark purple-blue sky and arcing crackles of energy signaled his invasion of my consciousness. After reading too much Stephen King in junior high, my early teenage dreams of him had seemed like a surreal dark fantasy.

Over the years, I’d learned to recognize these unique sensations, the foreign taste of alien dust on my tongue – his tongue; and the writhing dimensional folds tangled around my hands – his hands. I experienced his struggle to control the forces he harnessed to craft a pathway through the barriers separating our worlds. His aggressive, charismatic power filled me, yet the texture of his thought and influence flowed distinctly different from my own mind. I didn’t know what he was, or where he lived, but I knew his name.

Mithra.

“I’m here, Mithra. Waiting for you … as always.” As always, he ignored my taunts.

{{Your patience is rewarded. I crossed rivers of time and space for you.}}

When he said things like that, I worried. Why? Who was I that this magnificent god-like male visited me, spoke directly to me? His warm, inviting voice was the only constant in my life. Without him I was a lonely girl with no real life at all.

“What … what do you need? What would you have me do?”

My guts turned with the dual sensations of anticipation and anxiety. Speaking aloud, acknowledging him, reminded me of my mother, locked away and drugged for talking to the voices in her head. The doctors had fancy diagnoses like multiple personality disorder and schizophrenia, but I knew there were other possibilities.

Seeing what happened to my mother, I never spoke about Mithra to anyone, the things he said and did to me. The secret of his presence in my life was sometimes overwhelming … and his lurking expectations.

{{When the time is right, you will serve me.}}

His touch radiated through my soul and ended at my skin. Goosebumps rose everywhere as I shivered with the delightful sensation. I faced a choice, to force myself awake and brush off his influence, or dive deeper into sleep and accept this man sharing my soul and body … well not exactly a man.

His golden face formed in my mind’s eye. I wanted to run my fingers through his dark, long hair. The fiery luminescence of his inhuman eyes exposed my deepest desires. His jaw was hard and square, the undeniable look of an athlete – or a warrior. Though I’d never seen his entire form all at once, I always enjoyed his power radiating over me, a raw masculine force. He was larger than a normal man, skin colored an unnatural metallic sheen. Every part of him projected pure domineering male physique. Sometimes he appeared almost naked, tonight I glimpsed ornate armor on his forearms. His intense eyes blazed with the magnetism of saints, an allure I stopped resisting long ago. Whatever, wherever he was, he came to me, he wanted me … wanted something from me.

I yearned to touch his golden-bronzed skin, trace my fingers over his rippling muscles.

{{I am here for you, Tesorina. Feel me if you wish.}}

I smiled at the affectionate sound of his pet name for me, Tesorina. He rarely called me Ashley or Ash like everyone else.

Mithra knew what I wanted, even when I wasn’t certain myself. I held no secrets from him. He pulled my hands to his body by force of will. My palms landed on his hard, strong chest. The warm ridges of muscle beneath my fingers felt more solid than anything in my world. Hot sensations raced over my body, spearing down between my legs. I was instantly wet, ready for a man. I quivered with fear and anticipation. I shouldn’t touch him like this, too familiar, too intimate, but I could never resist his compulsion, especially when he indulged my fantasies.

He was the only man – male creature – in my life. I sighed in appreciation of his generous gifts. I often felt blessed when he allowed me to touch him … and especially when he touched me.

Feeling the tiny ridges of smooth, metallic armor that wrapped his skin, I wondered who or what he really was, his intentions for me. “Why do you visit me? What am I to you?”

{{Pledge absolute devotion to me and I promise you the key to the universe, Tesorina.}} I loved the resonating timbre of his deep, melodic voice, especially when he played seduction games. I enjoyed his flirtatious affections, but Mithra’s insistent demand remained constant.

He’d made this request many times, and in my heart, I’d pledged devotion to him many times over. I hesitated to say the words aloud. Someday I might give him what he asked for, if I knew how. For the moment, I desired something else. “I don’t want the keys to the universe. I want you, here. For real.”

{{What would you do to have me? To be together?}}

“Tell me what to do. What do you need?” My ethereal dream hands flowed over the hard lines of his chest and abs, then up to his golden face. I traced his powerful jaw and shoulders, hungry to know every part of him. While men bragged about their six-packs, Mithra flexed an eight-pack of the gods. He was huge, strong as an ox. I imagined he stood well over eight or nine feet. I wished he would step out of my dreams and into my life, but at least I had him here, now.

My nipples hard, breathing heavily, I wetted for him. Though I’d never been with a man, my body knew what it needed. I squirmed with the heat of my arousal, ready to pledge anything he asked, if only he’d touch me more.

{{A time will come when you must travel and face many challenges. There will be danger and great risk. You are not yet prepared.}}

“Show me how to prepare. Teach me.”

His warm chuckle spread across me in a tingling sensation. I wrestled with my bed sheets as tendrils of pleasure made me spasm with an intense, quivering need to feel him inside me.

{{Your eagerness serves me well. Soon, you will know me fully.}}

* * * *

No matter how many times I tapped the snooze button, my cell phone alarm continued its endless campaign of harassment.

I’d slept fitfully, drifting in and out of dreams, suffering my unfulfilled needs for Mithra.

Seemed like every time I closed my eyes his golden face appeared, pushing his agenda on me … and his body. I usually didn’t remember specific details of my Mithra dreams, but this last one stuck with me. Especially the physical closeness we shared. I knew how it would sound if I ever spoke to anyone about my dreams, so I suffered alone, waiting for my next dream-date with the ethereal Mithra. The few times I’d admitted it aloud to my own face in the mirror, I sounded like a nutcase. Seduced by a man in my dreams, a man I would never have, I still wanted him now. I wanted to pop sleeping pills, and return to my dreams of Mithra.

I reached between my legs and felt my wet panties. God I needed a life. All I wanted was to live in my dreams – a ridiculous way to pass the days.

My cell vibrated on the nightstand, another text message notification of a new study at Global Clinical Trials. I swiped my phone and peered through foggy sleep-vision at the message. Four thousand dollars for a two week study, no outpatient visits. I rolled out of bed for that one.

I hurriedly brushed my teeth and dialed the number for GCT.

Most clinical trials accepting females required non-childbearing women – no risk of pregnancy and birth defects from experimental drugs. This study allowed any females between eighteen and sixty. I had to get in now, before the screening appointments filled. Already behind a couple weeks on the rent, I could spend every dime of that study money catching up on bills.

I listened as the GCT screener rattled off a dozen known side effects – nausea, constipation, vomiting, light-headedness, a change in urine color, irregular menstruations – the usual. The phone screening took twenty minutes, but my appointment at eight a.m. the next morning guaranteed I was first in line for a study of thirty people – another experimental Alzheimer’s treatment.

A big study like this only happened once in a while, and I considered myself lucky to get into the first screening. I’d once made the mistake of telling my neighbor about clinical trials. He thought I was insane for taking the risk with non-FDA approved medications … but it paid the bills. Plus I always got the last laugh. Most people go through life spending their hard earned money on drugs – legal or otherwise – but I’d found a way to get paid to take drugs.

* * * *

Mithra removed his dimensio gear and gradually disengaged from the perturbateur platform that helped him harness the power resources to peel away wavelengths of space-time. The rippling graviton vibrations ceased and local space-time normalized as it had for the past two hundred years of his life. Utterly predictable and disappointing.

He looked down at his uncomfortably hard groin and yearned for a shower. More frequently, his visits to Ashley left him agonized with need for a lover. He considered a visit to the harem at Sitri’s palace.

He chuckled. “My sweet Tesorina, how you torment me.”

Mindless indulgence in sex was not the Vedic way, but his seductive attentions to Ashley served a double-edged blade cutting him with desire. Ashley’s dependence on him had become his primary focus – a mutual addiction they shared. For months now their connection had grown strong and steady. Night by night, his mind penetrated deeper into the substrate of her consciousness, coiling her will around his own, taking a vital role in her life. Her emotional need for his presence slowly bypassed her mental defenses. Though Ashley was a quiet, unassuming person, he had sparked a passionate flame of desire inside her. Now his body burned with the same.

They had never been closer in spirit and harmony, and he’d never found anyone with her latent capabilities. So much untapped potential... He sensed the tides of destiny sweeping towards them. He would soon bind his Tesorina to him, and prepare her for the journey that would lead them face to face.

A communique tone issued from the console. “Deva Mithra, forgive the intrusion. Principe Sitri requests your attendance at court. Will you attend this time?”

Mithra had ignored his benefactor for months. He sighed in resignation. “Yes. I will attend now.”

The answering noise indicated surprise. “His Grace entertains visiting dignitaries of the Superum. Dress appropriately.”

Mithra adjusted the painful lump of hard cock in his pants and hoped to squeeze in a visit to the harem between catering to Sitri and the arrogant swine of the Superum.

* * * *

“Deva Mithra! The legend has joined us at last. How wonderful! My halls echo with loneliness in your prolonged absence.” Sitri’s tongue flowed thick with sarcasm, igniting flames of fury in Mithra’s blood.

Mithra swallowed his anger and blocked the dark stain from his aura. He took pains to maintain severe control in the face of his Principe and guests.

Once, centuries past, he would have removed Sitri’s head for the veiled insult. Time and rebirth through many Incarnations had changed Mithra’s perspective. Now he sought a purpose more meaningful than the trappings of a warlord, an achievement more divine than conquest and political manipulations.

In his goal to honor the lost Empress and reunite the Superum across the vast expanses of space and time, other endeavors seemed futile. Mithra craved universal truth … to discover the Empress herself – if she still breathed.

He bowed low to his Principe and kept his eyes respectful, despite a strong desire to lash out at the arrogant ass. “I would visit more often, if it pleases my Principe. At times I am lost in my pursuits.”

Sitri nodded in respect. Never-ending subtle games of respect and honor. Sitri, in all his Incarnations, had yet to graduate beyond aspirations of dominion. Most of the Principe warlords suffered the same malady.

Mithra straightened and held the direct gaze of three figures seated around Sitri’s great stone table, a ten meter masterpiece of engraved art, a relic of a long forgotten era. Artisans of such skill did not exist anymore. He nodded respectfully to Salacia, Sitri’s general … and a consummate seductress.

Her dark, flowing tresses and perfectly proportioned body enticed Mithra endlessly. He’d answered her call many times over the centuries. Shady, archived recollections remained of the many nights he’d warmed Salacia’s bed, ravaging her body, testing her warrior’s endurance to the point of collapse. Once, drunk on sex and wine, naked on her knees, she had begged for his everlasting commitment, for his love. Though he still felt the strong connection between them, love and commitment to anyone apart from Ashley served a dangerous distraction.

Salacia winked at him and her little pink tongue flickered with invitation. An evening with her might be preferable to Sitri’s harem. She’d consider it a privilege to let him work off his sexual repression on her willing body. But then she’d expect more.

He looked to Galos, sitting across from Salacia. The Deva had courted Mithra’s assistance for decades. The incompetent Deva struggled to achieve even the simplest task in the rare hosts he connected with across the aether. His ineffectual bindings embarrassed all who instructed him. Mithra tried to respectfully decline Galos’s numerous requests for help, but the Deva insisted. Devotees of the Vedic way were a solitary crowd, rarely mixing publicly. Mithra seldom connected with other Devas across the Superum, apart from the annual meetings.

Galos nodded in response to Mithra’s nod of respect, but colors of irritation and defiance shot through his aura. The Deva would never be satisfied … the primary reason Mithra chose to stay far away from him. Mithra’s own projects consumed his time, and he had little patience for tutoring inept conjurers.

“The great Mithra, himself. It has been ages, Deva.” The third guest sitting beside Galos chuckled and nodded to Mithra. Ceres’ sharp eyes missed nothing in the loaded silence between Mithra and Galos. She knew well the reasons behind Galos’s resentment.

“I am ever at your service, Mistress. Call on me at your leisure.” He looked to his Principe. “By your leave, Master, of course.”

Sitri gestured to the table. “Please sit with us Deva, and end this talk of serving my competitors. I’m jealous and unaccustomed to sharing my Deva.” He looked to his guests with a sly grin. “He’s the only one I have left.”

Sitri’s wry humor struck a sour note in Mithra’s soul. He agreed to serve the warlord to simplify his life. Despite his loyalty to the Principe, Mithra never considered himself a possession to be coveted – or controlled. Perhaps it was time to remind the Principe as to the nature of their arrangement.

Mithra sat beside Sitri and watched Ceres’ laughing eyes. A former Deva herself, Ceres had renounced the Vedic way and instead chose the path of the warlord. She no longer believed in the pursuit of truth, the quest to reunite the lost Eden with the Superum. Over the centuries many former Devas had abandoned efforts to reopen the gates of Eden.

Mithra wondered if the time was right to reveal how close he was to success, but he couldn’t afford for other Devas to infiltrate his beautiful Tesorina. Some would block Ashley’s actions out of sheer spite. Like Galos. Mithra suspected the lazy conjurer of foul dealings, usurping hosts, destroying fragile human minds with his incompetence.

The smug arrogance of Galos’s aura birthed new suspicions. Word of Mithra’s progress with Ashley had probably spread far and wide across the Superum. His Tesorina was in peril. Mithra vowed to complete the binding with Ashley immediately, before Galos or anyone else tried to connect with her.

This task was for Mithra alone. He needed to find a way to empower his host and prepare her for the journey to reclaim the Seal.

Ceres held Mithra’s searching gaze and her aura swirled with colors of curiosity. She turned her regard to Sitri. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this invitation? Why have you brought me here with my Deva … so you can gloat over your impressive Mithra?”

Everyone at the table chuckled, but the tension in the room grew with Sitri’s silence. Finally, the Principe clapped a hand on Mithra’s shoulder. “It is my understanding that Mithra’s progress is something miraculous. He works tirelessly, day and night, whispering delightful promises to his host, wrapping her mind with his influence. I hear she worships his name … as the Romans once did.”

In another time, in Mithra’s early, barbaric Incarnations, Sitri would regret his mocking tone as he lay on the floor bleeding to death. Mithra fought his instinct to smash the laughing Principe’s face into the stone table. The Principe’s spies had done their job well. Mithra’s progress had gone unreported for weeks, but Sitri made it his business to know Mithra’s every move.

“Not miraculous, no.” Mithra sent a severe look to his warlord, a signal to silence him before he revealed too much. “I cannot guarantee any result from my work. It is an onerous task, and there is much yet to be accomplished.”

Sitri smiled and his aura conveyed understanding. “Indeed, my great Deva. I wish to aid you any way possible. You see, I don’t want to lend your services, rather I seek to offer help. I requested audience with the talented Ceres, and her Deva, Galos. Ceres may have forgotten the way, but Galos is a sharp student. He would be honored to work with the legendary Mithra, and in exchange, help in any way he can.”

Galos was a fool, and Sitri played a dangerous game catering to the scheming moron. Mithra wondered what secret favors Sitri sought in exchange for this ridiculous offer.

“Fear not, my Principe. Barring interference,” he shot Galos a sharp glance, “I have all I need to prepare my host for her tasks. Unfortunately there is little time for distractions and entertaining visiting Devas.”

Galos bristled and started to protest. Ceres’ hand on his silenced him. Her cold, calculating eyes flicked from Mithra to Sitri to Galos. “I wish you success in your quest, Mithra. Sitri asks my help – the help of my faithful servant – but it seems the great Mithra needs no one.”

Salacia’s light, happy laughter drew everyone’s attention. “If we let him, Mithra would carry the world on his shoulders, like the ancient myths of Atlas.” Her mischievous grin invited him in once more.

Sitri’s suspicious aura showed in his eyes as he watched Mithra and Salacia dancing around his attempts at manipulation. “I wish no intrusion in your conjurings my noble Deva, only to help. As you said, there is much to be accomplished. Many hands make light work.”

Mithra reached the end of his tolerance. “Ah, my Principe, in building ramparts and staging wars, this is true. In crossing the dimensio by way of divination and conjure, I require only time and proper focus. All shall come to pass … in time.”

“Word reached me today from Vassago. He pledges a wealth of Devas to your cause, if you need them. They work in concert, and their combined efforts afford greater influence. I make no jest.” Sitri’s piercing eyes lent credibility to his alarming words. “We are not alone in this quest.”

Finally, the serpent of underlying truth reared its ugly head. Vassago’s manipulations were in motion, causing ripples of interference. Mithra didn’t bother to remove the cold fury emanating through his aura. “I do not recall a time when the competitive natures of Devas and Principes found common cause to rally with such support.”

Never in all his years had Vassago done anything that did not directly benefit the warlord. The fact that cambion bastard monitored Mithra’s movements in the aether was more alarming than his offer of help.