probably a reporter after a story for the local newspaper. Bastards. The last thing he wanted was people seeing him like this, never mind being featured in the news.
He glanced at the nub of his left shoulder, clenched his teeth and then looked away. Couldn’t believe his fuckin’ arm had been chopped off. To make it worse, the orthopaedic surgeon said there was too much damage to save the limb, and that he would be fitted with a prosthetic one – a fuckin’ plastic arm like Action Man. Well fuck that.
A loud sob burst from Lincoln’s mouth and his chest heaved. He ran the back of his hand across his eyes to dispel the tears. He wasn’t going to cry; was stronger than that, despised weakness, whether physical or mental. He was going to rise above this.
But how?
He was a cripple!
The word stung him and he gritted his teeth.
A weak, ineffectual, cripple.
Lincoln had spent years in the gym, honing his body, engorging his muscles through the repetition of lifting weights. Yesterday was going to be his first bodybuilding competition. He saw it as a way out of the crummy factory where he worked. Now even the job in the goddamn factory would be better than this.
Having heard the commotion, a red-haired nurse with stocky legs walked into the room and stared at the broken dinner plate and the food splattered across the wall. She looked across at Lincoln and then tutted.
“Now then, what’s all this? I’ll not have this sort of behaviour on my ward.”
Lincoln bit his tongue. He knew it wasn’t her fault, but he felt like screaming.
“Cat got your tongue? Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to help, young man. And throwing food around certainly isn’t. Someone will have to clean this up.”
“Then why don’t you do it.”
The nurse fixed him with a hard glare. “Due to the circumstances, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Lincoln’s wound throbbed as though to remind him of his loss. “Whatever.”
He shuffled down using his right elbow to lie on the bed.
Why had that receptionist/reporter, whatever he was, insisted that they had spoken the day before?
It didn’t make sense unless he was trying to ingratiate himself in some way to get Lincoln’s story. Make him feel that they’d already spoken, as though the barrier between strangers had been broken.
Lincoln closed his eyes to embrace sleep.
Well fuck him. Fuck them all.
CHAPTER 5
Stephen looked up from his desk and stared at Lincoln Parker wandering towards him across the foyer.
He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something different about the man. Although he had never seen him upright before, the man walked with the air of someone possessed of an inner strength, his back ramrod straight.
But surely the man should be resting after his traumatic experience and subsequent operation, rather than wandering the hospital. Unless…
Stephen felt the blood rush into his cheeks. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation. Working the A & E reception was often bad enough at the best of times, what with irate patients.
When he reached the counter, Lincoln nodded. “Morning,” he said, smiling.
That’s when Stephen realised what the difference was. The man before him was the same, upbeat man he had spoken to the day before, and not the dishevelled, browbeaten man he’d spoken to earlier. He knew the drugs they gave him were probably good, but they couldn’t be
“Mr Parker. Can I help you? If it’s about earlier…”
“Help me!” Lincoln laughed. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
Stephen swallowed. Something about Lincoln made him feel intimidated and he was thankful for the security glass separating them. Even with one arm, he knew the man could probably knock him into next week if he should so choose.
“So what can I do to help?” Stephen asked.
“Yes, I’m sorry about earlier. Anyone would think I’d lost my manners along with my arm.” He chuckled, a deep throaty sound that made the hairs on Stephen’s neck stand to attention. “Now that pretty young girlfriend of yours. What exactly did she say she saw when the accident occurred?”
Stephen licked his lips. “I told you. It’s stupid really. She said she saw a sort of phantom limb, you know, where you lost your arm.”
Lincoln nodded thoughtfully. “Perceptive.”
“Pardon,” Stephen said.
“Nothing. Just thinking aloud. Will she be coming back here soon?”
“Erm, no, I mean, why?”
“Oh nothing. I’ll meet her again before long. Anyway, I’ve got work to do.”
Chuckling, Lincoln walked away, the people gathered in the reception area parting before him and then swarming back into place after he passed them by.
Stephen preferred the one armed bodybuilder when he was browbeaten rather than upbeat, because with the positive change came something else, something sinister.
CHAPTER 6
Humans are a pitiful race, Malachi thought. Weak and ineffectual. They didn’t deserve to live.
Being forced to inhabit a human body to interact with the physical world sickened him, and although he knew people sensed his power as they stepped out of the way along the hospital corridor, it was little comfort. Fortunately, unlike Joanna Raines, they couldn’t see him for what he was.
He didn’t know how Joanna could see him, but she’d seen him infiltrate Lincoln’s body after the accident, and she could see him when he took possession, when Lincoln was asleep or unconscious. That made her a nuisance at best and a threat at worst. And the best thing to do was to infuse her with one of his brethren.
He would have done it the other night if she had been alone, but the opportunity didn’t present itself, and he didn’t want to jeopardise his plan. Besides, who would believe her? He wouldn’t have been bothered now if her pathetic boyfriend hadn’t come questioning Lincoln. Not that Lincoln could answer any questions as he didn’t know he was possessed.
Putting all thoughts of Joanna aside, he decided to concentrate on the more important task, that of bringing his brethren out of purgatory.
With his army alongside, one girl with the ability to see him for what he was wouldn’t matter, for soon the world would have a new master.
The demon smiled.
Little did those he passed along the corridor realise they stood on the brink of a new era, an era of fire and brimstone. He saw some of them stare at Lincoln’s missing limb, and then turn quickly away. Being saddled with a one armed human wouldn’t have been the demon’s first choice of host, but at the precise moment Lincoln lost the limb, he died, leaving an empty shell. That’s when Malachi gained access to his host. Unfortunately, Lincoln’s spirit returned, and they now had to share the same space. While Malachi was active when the human slept, the human was in control when its host was awake.
When in control of Lincoln, Malachi had use of all the man’s senses. He could sometimes feel the human’s consciousness, like a tickling sensation, and he despised the feeling.
“Excuse me, but you shouldn’t be out of bed.”
Malachi turned at the sound of the woman’s voice and saw the nurse that had entered the room earlier when
