Fashionably Dead Down Under(59)

“Stop,” I commanded harshly. “Stop.”
I wanted to forgive them their sins. I felt how truly remorseful they were, but I also knew if they lived on they would continue to commit sin after sin and I had no jurisdiction over mass forgiveness for that. I only had compassion and the unhealthy need to right my father’s wrong.
“Tell me where a portal is,” I said. “I’ll need to leave when I’m . . . done here.”
Lance shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” I sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of my nose. They wanted me to commit mass murder and then hang out with the dead bodies? They were going to have to think again. It would be hard enough without having to look at what I’d done for God knows how long.
“We will give you our power before the deed is done. It should be enough to help you find your way,” Lance said.
“Whoa, Nelly.” I stopped him before they all started magically sending their fucked up evil Demon mojo my way. I might empathize with them, but I didn’t want to become them.
“Our power is pure,” Lance assured me. “Our memories and our physical bodies are not.”
“Are you all very sure this is what you want?” I asked. My hands trembled at my sides and my knees were unsteady. This was so much different than what I had been trained for. I still wasn’t positive I could do it.
“You would put a suffering dog down, wouldn’t you?” Lance asked quietly.
“Yes, I would.”
“We are nothing more than animals at this point. We haven’t been humanely treated in over a thousand years. Please . . . just please.”
“Make the circle tighter,” I shouted. I looked up at the jagged rock ceiling and prayed for a moment, but who or what was I praying to anymore? All my ideas of the afterlife had been altered. I didn’t know what I believed. What the hell did good and evil really mean and how closely were they related? Were they actually the same thing?
A muttered chorus of ‘thank you’ wafted around me, but I could barely compute. My heart beat so loudly in my chest it was all I could hear. I closed my eyes and realized I had no anger, just sadness and fear. I realized I no longer needed anger. I only needed to know what I owned, how to use it didn’t matter—I only needed to think of the outcome desired and the means to get there would become obvious.
Closing my eyes, I asked a God I wasn’t sure existed in the way I wanted him to anymore for forgiveness—forgiveness for what I was about to do. My grandfather’s chant that had eluded me was now at the forefront of my mind and I marveled at of the complexity and the simplicity of it. I felt the release of power from the Demons and I let it in. Unsure if it was safe, I did it anyway. It felt right. A whisper of movement in my stomach startled and frightened me. My child, my son . . . I felt his love and strength and approval. Holy Hell, the moment was surreal. It was a very old soul inside me and his knowledge was far superior to mine, but he loved me and knew I was there to take care of him. He was sure I would do what was right. Would I always pay for the sins of my father? I hoped the score would be even and I could move forward without his taint touching my child’s world, but only time would tell.
Was this the balance between good and evil . . . Was I doing evil for good? Or good for evil?
It only took an instant. I saw the outcome and the deed was done. Sparks flew wildly around me and the popping noises made me grind my teeth and scream in despair. I fell to my knees and beat the ground. I’d just killed fifty people. Did it matter that no one loved or wanted them anymore? That should have made it easier, but it didn’t. Had I become the Grim Reaper, meting out justice as I saw fit? Who in the hell did I think I was? I slowly opened my eyes and they were gone. No trace of the ones who had begged for death. The floor was covered in icy white crystals and black glitter. The soul lights were momentarily quiet.
It was either shock or regret that consumed me and I gave in to my basest need. I lay down on the dank filthy floor and I cried . . . for the Demons, for my father and for myself.

Chapter 19
Little wet lips kissed my face and head. The soft feather touches tickled. I had no clue how much time had passed since I’d committed one of the worst sins possible, but it felt like years.
“Me see your boobers, Mommy,” Abe said with great satisfaction. “Me want to touch.”
“No,” Ross shouted and kneed Abe in his little Demon nuts. “Me massage Mommy’s love melons.”
“Ohhhhh, squishy,” Rachel said as she poked at my chest.
“Mommy has nice balloons,” Beyonce told everyone.