Demon Chronicles: Apple Moonshine

Apple Moonshine

  By K. S. Bowers

  Copyright © 2012 by Kimberly Bowers

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, transmitted, recorded, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the prior permission of the author. For more information, contact [email protected].

  Apple Moonshine is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to demons, actual persons living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Metamorphosis Copyright © 2012 by Kimberly Bowers

  I Hate You Copyright © 2012 by Kimberly Bowers

  The Trail Copyright © 2012 by Kimberly Bowers

  A Great Man Copyright © by Kimberly Bowers

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This ebook is protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America. This ebook is licensed for your enjoyment only and may not be re-sold, reproduced, copied, or distributed for commercial or noncommercial purposes. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Edited by Rick Parker

  Cover art copyright © by Kimberly Bowers. All rights reserved.

  https://www.ksbowers.wordpress.com

  For the victims and survivors of child abuse and domestic violence worldwide.

  In memory of the little girl in the white gown.

  Table of Contents

  Apple Moonshine

  About the Author

  Metamorphosis

  I Hate You

  The Trail

  A Great Man

  Prologue

  Adam was born of the earth, but we were born of fire and of light. Neither Adam nor his descendants could match our beauty, wisdom, or power. The Creator commanded us to bow to Adam. He refused to make us gods over mankind.

  We rebelled. Our punishment was swift. Some were bound in chains, and remain imprisoned unto this day. The rest of us were cast to Earth’s realm forced to dwell among the sons and daughters of Adam.

  I am the demon, Orezel. I seek the destruction of the human race. These are my chronicles, a testament of the human souls I have destroyed.

  *

  Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone …

  Psalms 11:6

  Apple Moonshine

  She was ancient. The oldest structure in that town, she sat on its western border. In her youth she had been the jewel of Georgia’s Appalachian region. Her resplendent columns did not complain of their burden, but remained upright and unyielding amidst a structure yearning to collapse. She stood, steadfast, a reminder of an era long past and a witness to the evil encompassed by her walls.

  I did abide in the homes of humans. I warmed myself by their hearths and I saw the sins they thought went unseen. Know this… there are those among you more evil than I.

  *

  Sixty-eight, sixty-nine, seventy, seventy-one …. Seventy-one.

  This is the highest I’ve ever counted while the mean one spanked me.

  Not the bucket. Please don’t use the bucket, its metal. Please, I’ll be good. Oh, no, no, no. Maybe it won’t be bad if I squeeze all my muscles together. I’ll count, too because counting reminds me of momma. I start over counting.

  One … two … three … fo—.

  Momma taught me to count all the way to one hundred before she died. She said I was smart for my age ‘cause not many three year olds can count that big.

  My legs are bleeding. I know the mean one will make me bathe and the water will sting. I hope thorns aren’t stuck in my legs this time. I knew something bad was going to happen today. I told Abigail, but she didn’t care. She was mad at me for leaving her under the bed while I cleaned the walls. I told the mean one and the good one too. They called me a liar. They said knowing stuff before it happens is powers of the devil. They told me powers of the devil will make you burn in hell forever. I don’t see how a person can burn forever because fires burn fast. Plus, when my momma took me to church, the preacher said Jesus loved little kids.

  The mean one left. Wake up. Open your eyes.

  Voice is talking to me. He talks a lot. I don’t know what Voice looks like. I can’t see him. The first time I heard Voice I thought it was momma. I was crying because the mean one slapped me in the face with the bony part of the hand and my lip got fat in my mouth. I hate the mean one. I asked Jesus to help me, but he didn’t. Momma told me once that Jesus got deaded, which I guess is why he didn’t help me. So I am running away tonight. I hid Abigail under the bed so we can sneak out when they go to sleep.

  Wake up. Open your eyes.

  “I can’t wake up, Voice. My head hurts too bad.”

  You must wake up.

  “I told you, I can’t. I tried, but my eyes are glued shut. Is this the bad place, Voice?”

  They lied to you about the bad place. You have a boo-boo on your head.

  I don’t think they lied, but I don’t say this to Voice. My momma taught me about the bad place and I heard the preacher talk about it at her church. The devil lives in the bad place with bad people. If you don’t get dunked in the bathtub at church, you have to go to the bad place. My momma said so. After you get dunked in the tub, you have to eat Jesus’s body and drink his blood. Grownups say you can’t eat boogers, but eating body and blood is ok. To me, eating body and blood is grosser. Except, they just pretend it’s body and blood. One time, when no one was looking, I tried the blood. It tasted the same as the grape juice my momma buyed at the store.

  My momma is in heaven because she got dunked. Little kids don’t get dunked because you don’t die till you’re old. Abigail is old so I dunked her in our tub here. Now she can go to heaven and tell momma I miss her. Abigail is dying, but I’m not telling her. Her back is coming undone. Her insides are coming out. Abigail has white stuff for her insides.

  Wake up … wake up … wake up.

  I guess I better wake up since Voice won’t let me sleep right now. When the mean one hit me with the bucket, bleach water spilled everywhere. My gown is all wet and the bleach smell is strong. One of my eyes can open. For some reason the other one is still glued, but I can’t move my hand to get the glue out.

  “I can’t move my arm, Voice.”

  Your arm has a boo-boo too, but I can make the pain go away.

  Voice is my friend. He’s magic. Dark-time got here fast. The sun was still awake when the mean one spanked me. I’m afraid of the dark, but the moon is shining through the window. Abigail is under the bed watching me. No one else is here except Voice. The curtain is blowing in my face from the window being open to let out the bleach smell, only this doesn’t work good ‘cause I have to throw up.

  Abigail has stuff on her, so do the curtain, walls and floor. I know it’s blood from my boo-boos. The mean one is going to be mad because I got blood all over the walls I cleaned today. Every time the mean one checked the walls weren’t clean enough. I had to clean them lots of times.

  My mouth tastes like throw up and blood. Now, I remember why I got spanked. I threw up on the mean one. I tried to eat the beans, but they made me gag. I throwed them up in my plate. The mean one told me I couldn’t waste food and made me eat the throw up. I throwed up again, all over the mean one’s hands. The mean one shoved the throw up in my mouth with a spoon until I ate it all.

  My head hurts like a knife stab. I’ve never seen such a big blood before, so I will need tons of band-aids. Blood smells bad. My tummy is hot and feels like a see-saw. I think I’m going to throw up. I squeeze my teeth tight ’cause sometimes doing this makes the throw up go away, but it doesn’t wor
k this time. My throw up is red now.

  You’re not safe. I can help you move. I can give you strength.

  “How? You’re only Voice.”

  Remember what I told you about me?

  “You’re magic?”

  Right, I’m magic. Good girl. You must do as I say—

  The mean one and the good one are arguing again. When Voice hears them, he gets quiet. They always argue about me. The mean one hates me, but the good one is nice. The good one says the mean one is crazy from drinking the apple moonshine in the cellar. The good one says the moonshine poisoned the mean one.

  “How could you do such a thing? What were you thinking?”

  “She brought it on herself. You saw what she did.”

  “You hit her too hard, too much.”

  “I had to punish her.”

  “You call this punishment? She’s dead.”

  I stop listening. “Am I dead, Voice?”

  No, you’re not dead.

  I listen again. The mean one is still mad at me. I try hard to be a good girl. If I could be gooder, the mean one would love me I think.

  “You’re insane,” the good one said.

  “The girl is evil. You can’t deny she has the devil in her.”

  They don’t say anything for a minute. I hear footsteps in the hall. I wonder how the devil got inside me. I can’t feel him. Maybe he’s small like a bug.

  “What are we going to do now? What if someone finds out?”

  “Who’s going to know? No one comes out here. No one knows she’s here. Stop worrying. I’ll put her in the cellar for now and bury her in the morning. I’m too tired to do anything else.”

  They