The Satanist’s Daughter
Reader’s discretion is advised. There is a dead kitty in this next scene, but I promise you, no kitties truly die in my book. The guardians of the underworld, are they not?…..I’m not……foreshadowing, so don’t overthink this bit. Just! Go forth with caution.
Written by Nohbodee
Cecelia Perry
Rivertown, Michigan
Night fell on Cecelia Perry’s sixth birthday. The beautiful mansion of Samson and Raven Perry was still a mess from the private party. Cake and cookies were scattered along the kitchen counters. Party hats and noisemakers were abandoned in the parlor, while all of Cecelia’s presents lie unopened on the dining room table.
Her friends and their parents had all gone home; the mansion staff were fast asleep in their chambers. While her own parents slept, Cecelia stayed awake, looking up at the metal mobile above her bed. She watched as it spun slowly, blinking every time the moon flashed in its reflective surface.
Thinking of pretty things.
Restless, Cecelia kicked her tiny feet and pushed back the silk duvet on her bed. She pulled her favorite blue blanket down with her, as she climbed down and wrapped it around her shoulders. She tiptoed toward the grand living room — her favorite room in the house — and stood before the great, floor-to-ceiling window that had a distant view of Detroit.
She watched the city as it twinkled in her eyes. She was entranced for a time, until… something darker than the blackness of the night appeared in the backyard.
She almost hadn’t caught it, but then she heard the murmuring. She watched as the blackness moved like smoke and morphed into a looming figure that cast a terrifying shadow on the lawn.
She should feel afraid, but the fear would not come. Its voice called to her in a rattling whisper — lingering there in the mansion’s silence. Cecelia stepped closer to the window, pressing her hand against the dewy glass, and smiled a little.
The figure rose to full height. Its black hood fell back off its skeletal head, as it looked up at the window and directly into her eyes. With a boned hand it beckoned her. Ancient vocal cords, rattling from an age of unuse, growled impatiently, “Cecelia…my dear Cecelia…”
Cecelia felt the urgency to be with the dark figure, too, though she didn’t entirely understand why. All she knew was that her heart felt whole again.
She tiptoed to the stairs, pausing only when the landing creaked under her weight. She looked over her shoulder at her parent’s bedroom door, but when she could hear that no one had stirred, she crept down the steps and slipped out the back door.
Death was waiting for her in the overgrown grass. Its towering figure was shrouded in a cloudy, black cloak that danced as the wind bid it. Its bones creaked as it bent to look fondly down at Cecelia’s innocent face. It opened its arms, the bones clanging as it did so. Cecelia jumped into its embrace, like a child seeing their parent after a long time apart.
Death enclosed its arms around her and wrapped the blanket around her body to protect her from the cold. “Don’t be afraid, my child…” Death murmured in the darkness. “Soon, we will be together, but for now…This war is yours to lead…” It lifted her chin up so it may look into her eyes, desperately. “Do you understand, my Princess?”
Cecelia frowned and shook her head. “What is war?” she asked Death.
“It comes, and it goes; returns when the kings do; a machine and it is yours,” Death said. “In time, my child, you will know. For now, I will help you see.”
Cecelia folded her arms petulantly. “I see just fine.”
Death chucked at this. A sort of dry echo. “Yes, but you will see beyond this world, Princess. And one day, you will save it.”
As Cecelia looked up at Death, touching the side of its skull, Death swiftly pressed a bone thumb against her forehead and murmured an ancient prayer.
Cecelia’s eyes closed and her body went limp in Death’s arms.
The world stopped.
Blackness.
No ground.
Just the abyss of all.
Then there were colors. Images. Memories of a shorter life. Black kittens were crying as they nursed on the corpse of their mother. He…he was so hungry. Smells permeated his senses. Dull sounds of passing cars filled his ears. Sirens. Honks. Engines that purred. Engines that sputtered. Exhaust that spit. And birds that chirped from the traffic lights.
When Cecelia opened her eyes, she felt very small. Smaller, than perhaps, she had already felt before. It took a moment for her to understand that she was in another’s body, though a very limited understanding.
She was — no — he was prowling the streets for food when it started to rain, and he stopped to rest beneath a shelter. That’s when the thing above him started to vibrate. It was loud but his hearing wasn’t all that good, and the rain was coming down hard, drowning out the alarm bells.
He looked across the street and into the glass window of a nearby store front.
I can see myself, he thought delightfully.
What Cecelia saw was a black kitten hiding beneath a small car, but as the whole picture came into focus, something happened. Something too fast for him or Cecelia to even process. First, the tire crunched and then he heard himself crunch.
Cecelia screamed and slipped right back into the cold, blackness.
When Cecelia had resurfaced from what she thought was a dream, she found herself lying in the soft grass alone and frightened. What happened? The cat didn’t acknowledge what he was seeing, but Cecelia had.
He was lying beneath a car and before he realized he should move out of the way, the driver pulled forward and crushed the kitten’s tiny body. She wanted to cry but bit down on her lip instead. She forced herself to her feet, wrapping herself with her arms — her favorite blanket forgotten- and made her way back to the house.
She felt very different. Aware. And as the old saying goes, her innocence slowly began to ebb away, as she realized that she would die, too.
As she reached the porch steps, she slowed to a stop when she heard the kitten’s cries. They were coming from the gutter in the street. Anger rushed her as she ran to its aid. She lifted the tiny thing into her arms and realized that this was him! The kitten!
She held him close and hurried back into the house. She didn’t bother washing him. She simply climbed back up onto her bed, tracking mud all over her sheets, and cuddled him. She did not care. She looked down at the cat and stroked his nose.
Her parents worshiped Satan. That was the name they used when they prayed. They told her he was the angel who helped humans see. Cecelia looked down at the kitten. “I’m gonna call you Lucifer,” she decided and kissed his ears.
Cecelia and Lucifer fell asleep, with no true worries or concerns for tomorrow. But tomorrow will come and everything will change. Childhood will end before it begins.
