Well...here is the second chapter of TORN - BOOK 4 in 'The VIth Element Series' as promised!
CHAPTER 2: MORTIMER
It had been at least two weeks since Mortimer had escaped and re-entered Darkvoid Dimension and he still felt as if one of the ‘Tweenies’ had picked up ‘Dougal’ and hurled him straight at his body. (This was in an alternate universe of course). Pain and Suffering flitted about him, tending to his every need, which pleased Mortimer greatly. Thankfully, they had remained loyal to him, despite his predicament. If it hadn’t been for them, Mortimer realised that he might not have escaped that accursed realm. However, as he winced, feeling his soul and body form gradual connections with one another, he realised, with a growing doubt, that something was very wrong indeed.
Reclining back in his thorny chair, Mortimer pondered on this horrifying realisation. Something wasn’t right. He knew it. He could feel it in his bones. He could feel it under his skin. Nevertheless, he just couldn’t put his finger on it.
Suddenly, the answer hit him. Mortimer didn’t like this answer one bit. No. He must be wrong. That wasn’t right. And yet, Mortimer knew that he was right in his suspicions. He was terrifyingly right. Mortimer was a changed man. Whether this change was a good one though was up for debate.
The first reason behind his change, as Mortimer undertook some profound soul-searching, was to do with Alexandra Raven. Mortimer felt something deep inside him stir at the thought of her name.
Alexandra was one of a kind. There was no doubt about that. She was fiery, passionate and had an enormous heart – something that had been confirmed in those last few moments, before she had thrown herself into the portal. Mortimer also realised that he had underestimated her. She too had changed since being shattered and he acknowledged that, as soon as they crossed paths again in the future, something he was absolutely certain was going to happen, he would not make the same mistake again. It was then that Mortimer wondered if Alexandra had even managed to return to Vladimir’s academy.
As soon as he had somewhat recovered from her powerful assault, where she had unlocked her ability to command the element of air, he had jumped into the portal, shortly before The Gatekeeper’s kingdom had collapsed around him, trapping that evil demon under a mound of bones and dust.
He hadn’t been out of the woods yet.
Once more, Mortimer acknowledged that, if it hadn’t been for Pain and Suffering, he may well have been trapped inside the portal for the rest of eternity. It had been their calls that had alerted him to their presence and, as he psychically linked the three of them together, they had succeeded in pulling him towards the light, just in time. His thoughts returned to Alexandra. Had she been as fortunate as he or had she fallen at the last hurdle?
Mortimer was alarmed by the pang of concern he felt deep within him. He needed Alexandra for a dark purpose. That was certain. However, this feeling was different.
This feeling was something he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
This feeling was a niggling one.
This feeling did nothing to calm his mounting fear.
The mere fact that Mortimer was feeling like this was wrong on so many levels.
The second reason behind Mortimer’s change concerned another. More specifically, it concerned the soul Chris. Mortimer didn’t know why Chris’s death had affected him so greatly. After all, he had killed many over the years. His other victims’ deaths had been meaningless - a necessity towards achieving his wanted goal. And yet, deep down, he wondered if it was because he had been in the boy’s company for so long. Chris had been a genuinely nice guy – a guy with a warm heart and friendly demeanour. What’s more, he, Mortimer, had lived and laughed alongside him – something his dead companions didn’t exactly evoke. Ok. So they had their uses from time to time and offered him company when he desired it. Even so, that was it. They were dead, not living. Plus, their conversations weren’t exactly inspiring.
Mortimer shivered, before slamming his fist down on the edge of his chair, making Pain and Suffering jump. Alex and Chris had changed him. They had made him feel. How could he live with this knowledge?
Instantly, he realised what he had to do.
Flinging himself up from the chair, causing it to crash into the wall, Mortimer hurtled off towards his bed chamber, eyes flashing dangerously. This wouldn’t do. He wouldn’t have it. He was Mortimer.
Mortimer who roused your darkest nightmares.
Mortimer who roused fear in every heart.
Mortimer who roused the dead from their slumber, ready to do his bidding.
Eventually, with Pain and Suffering following tentatively behind, Mortimer stood in front of an ancient mirror.
“I call you master,” he said, his voice cold and angry. “I call you because I need your help.”
At first, nothing happened. The mirror stayed as it was, chipped and rusty, with a dirty reflection. Nevertheless, with a swirl of black colours, the reflection in the mirror changed. It transformed into the image of an elderly man – a man who oozed power.
At seeing this change, Pain and Suffering let out shocked squeaks. In all the years they had been with Mortimer, they had never witnessed such an event.
“I hear your call,” said the man. “What is it that you want to know?”
Mortimer bowed gracefully at the sight of his master, before he rose to his full height.
“I…f…feel…different,” Mortimer stammered, his eloquent nature momentarily lost. In the gloom, it looked as if he was slightly blushing. “I need your h…help.”
Mortimer could tell that his master was extremely put out at hearing this news, if not a little angry. He felt embarrassed. He felt weak. He stood there, ready to hear what his master had to say. When he had assessed Mortimer, the man frowned.
“My, my, you do need my help,” he eventually said, his voice betraying his dissatisfaction. “I have to say, I’m most displeased. I never expected this to happen,” he added, his lip curling. “Not after all we’ve been through together or what you’ve done.”
Mortimer did nothing to hide his humiliation. In front of his master, he felt ridiculed. He felt…exposed.
“What do you suggest I do?” he enquired, lowering his eyes. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at his master anymore.
As if sensing his despondency, the man’s voice lost its cutting tone, even if it was ever so slightly.
“You need to rekindle your spirit,” he told him, his eyes unfathomable. “To do this,” he instructed, “you need to have a bit of fun – old style.”
That was all Mortimer needed to hear.
“Thank you,” he whispered, finding the strength the look into his master’s gaze once more. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m really –”
The man held up his hand for silence.
“Don’t waste your apologies on me,” he snapped. “I don’t what to hear any of that. However,” he threatened, “should you lose yourself again, I won’t be so lenient.” With that, the man disappeared.
Once he was gone, Mortimer flitted his eyes over to where Pain and Suffering were cowering.
“What are you looking at?” he snapped. They jumped at hearing the harshness of his tone.
That was better.
That was more like the old Mortimer.
“You heard what he said.”
With a wave of his hand and a flick of his wrist, Mortimer changed into a dark, red suit – the colour of blood.
“You know what I’m asking,” he growled at his servants. “And, if you mess this up, then so help…you…god, you’ll pay.”
Mortimer didn’t mean to snap at his servants – not after all they had done. He was just touchy. He needed time to think, mull and release.
With a hop and a jump, Pain and Suffering set to work.
“Of courssssse ssssire,” they hissed. Then, with a pop, they disappeared.
The instant they were gone, Mortimer broke down and wept.
Stay tuned for the last chapter before TORN is released on AMAZON KINDLE!
Adele Rose