The Perfect Drug

By Hollie DeFrancisco

Adelice is a demon that has lost her sense of purpose in life. Doomed to eternity with no ability to love, she finds her hopeful chance of escape. When she fails she finds herself faced with the pressing question of who she really is and what her true purpose may be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hollie DeFrancisco
• Release date: Oct 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301793327

Hollie DeFrancisco

Hollie DeFrancisco grew up in Somerville, MA where the decay of the city and the lack of nature left a stark coldness and desire in her soul. From a young age the desire to create was there just waiting to be properly honed. As she got older the terrors of age, daily living and teenage bureaucracy sent her scrambling for a space to call her own. Taking refuge in her day dreamer's mind she discovered what she subconsciously had always known: fantasy and nature were both things that always calmed and soothed her. With the support of her family's kind words and the desire to show the world a vision locked in her mind she set out to gain the skills necessary to make that possible. In 2010 Hollie graduated from Jacksonville University where she obtained a bachelors degree in fine arts, but her desire to write was never abated. Currently residing in Fargo, ND, Hollie's only goal in life is to share her stories and visions with those who are willing to look and listen

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 DeFrancisco Designs

Smashwords Edition 2013

***

Copyright © 2013 DeFrancisco Designs

Smashwords Edition 2013

All rights reserved.

defranciscodesigns.com

Cover art by Hollie Defrancisco

Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

https://www.facebook.com/FictionalFormats

***

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

There are so many people that helped in the creation of this novel it’s truly difficult to know where to start.

Firstly, thank you so much to the wonderful professors at Jacksonville University for assisting in the editing of this book. Doctor Murphy, Jack Turnock, and Dana Tupa: I honestly could not have done this without you. Not only did the three of you support me on paper, but you supported me mentally as well. I can never repay you that. So thank you.

Secondly, I’d like to thank my family whom without I would never have gone to college, never would have continued dreaming of my own worlds and never would have completed the storyline. Mum, Daddy and Miky thanks so much for always being there for me.

I would also like to thank several of my friends for inspiring the original characters before they took on a life of their own.

Jen, Vicko, Kevin, Mike, Amy and Kim: thanks for not minding my putting us in all those odd situations. You really are some great friends.

A big thank you to Anastasia and Justin for always believing I could get the final manuscript done on time and to Dalton who never stopped believing I could achieve anything I ever wanted to.

Additionally, thank you to Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails for writing the song The Perfect Drug. Without it who knows if this story would have ever taken on the life it has.

Finally, thank you readers for without you this story is just ink on paper.

***

This is for those with dreams

and those with vision.

For anyone who ever went

after what they wanted and

believed in magic.

This is for anyone

who lent a helping hand or

just added fuel to the fire.

Thank you all

for allowing me to

keep my vision alive.

***

In critical moments even the very powerful have need of the weakest.

- Aesop

The air was thick beneath the starless sky. A woman enrobed in a cloak of ivy leaves and vines walked amongst the vast valley floor. Dust kicked up beneath her twiggy feet, the vibrations of the earth speaking a language to her that few others could hear. She could hear the voices of her children, praying to her as they so often did and the voices of creatures that scuttled amongst the land. But most of all she heard the voices from below. Heady voices, tinged with outrage. It was these voices she was most interested in as she cast all other distractions aside.

At the edge of the valley sat a stone that dwarfed the height of ten men and a girth as wide as a healthy elephant. Its surface was marred with chips and cracks from the centuries it had endured and weeds grew unchecked across its surface. From within its shadow she heard a snake rattle as it slithered through the underbrush. She stood before the monolith.

From beneath her cloaks she produced a gnarled staff of red wood, crowned by the skull of some long extinct creature. The staff was not hers’, she reminded herself, as she once again found herself admiring the way it glistened in her stumpy hand. She sighed and tapped it against the ground three times, the wood barely making a thud against the dusty soil. The earth beneath her rumbled and roared yet she stood completely unperturbed. She had done this before a hundred times. She knew what to expect.

The rock before her quaked from the ground up, small pebbles rolled from its top and more snakes slithered away through the grass, confused by what could disturb their massive home. A crevice grew through the center of the rock, reaching its ridges towards the sky as it began to separate, peeling back like a silken curtain to reveal an ancient wooden door beneath. The woman sighed again, the smells of sulfur and blood already catching in her sinuses. She pushed the door, feeling the petrified wood beneath her palm, as she slipped her way silently into the stark heat of the underworld.

A girl with flower weaved curls watched from a distance.

Welcome, my lovely Lady, a handsome man said from upon his throne of broken bones. His legs were draped across the arm of his throne, a shining goblet glistening in his black hand. He made no move to stand, not that she expected it. A number of scrawny beasts with turned horns and grayish skin bowed her into the room. She walked past them without notice.

Good evening my Lord, she smiled respectfully, but pulled her hood on tighter. She cast her gaze around the room. Lewd bas-relief coated the walls and chandeliers of bone and crystals hung from the caverns ceiling. Ugly beasts stood with bending backs and knees around the perimeter, but nowhere did she see what she had come for.

The Lord smiled in a bitter way.

Where is the child? She did not care to think she had come all this way for nothing.

Gone, was all he cared to reply.

Gone?!?! What mockery is this?! the Lady spat as roots tore through the caverns ceiling encasing the throne of the Lord.

He simply took a sip from his goblet and sighed. The girl was smarter than you thought, he replied, thinking again of the scrolls now missing from their stores.

The Lady growled, the sound cutting through the air like cracking wood. She refused to believe the girl had beaten her again. The plan was guaranteed for success, she snarled, refusing to believe he spoke the truth.

The Lord took another sip. The guarantee ran out.

A sound like uprooting earth broke through the air as the roots sent the throne flying. The Lord stood behind where it had once stood, his goblet still in hand. Not even a drop of his drink had been spilled.

Remedy this disgrace, the woman said, her tone calm once again, the roots had already begun to disappear from whence they came.

I have already dispatched my best warriors to track her. The girl won’t escape again. The woman nodded in agreement. Certainly this would do nicely.

Most assuredly they shall fail, a small voice from the throne room door spoke. The sound of collapsing earth and grinding rock sounded in the near distance. The girl with flower weaved curls smiled.

What business do you have here, girl? the Lord frowned. He didn’t recall inviting any others in on this meeting. The Lady cast a perturbed eye upon the Lord. He had promised no others would be present.

An exchange. I have surveyed the girl upon the battlefield. Watched the skills she cast to extinguish of her enemies. You desire a girl you cannot catch; I desire the power the girl most assuredly has.

The Lord smiled, his mouth pulling up in a crooked grin. And what do you propose, intruding wench? Why should I not just have you cut down where you stand? he inquired as the girl felt a dagger at her back. She didn’t flinch, just fixed her orange lily eyes upon him as buds of teasel sprouted from beneath her feet.

I offer a service your servants are incapable of providing, she replied stiffly.

He continued to smile as he waited for her to continue.

Subtlety. The girl possesses no cause to fear me. The ability to infiltrate her trust would be simple.

The Lord thought, a hand stroking his sharp shaped chin. He cast a considering glance upon the Lady. The Lady too considered, smiling at the pudgy girl with the flower weaved curls. She knew she’d been followed and knew this would shape up to be a fine joke. She nodded her assent. The Lord smiled.

Come and we shall talk of what is to come, he said while beckoning her to him with a worn and calloused hand.

The girl grinned, thrilled at the aspects of her ever-brightening future.

***

Boredom can be a lethal thing on a small island.

- Christopher Moore

It isn’t like I haven’t already lived long enough, Adelice thought as the midnight breeze blew back her long black hair, smells of exhaust and paper mill smoke wafting with it, as her leather wings spread to catch the cool air. It’s jus’ I’m bored of this existence. It’s become so pointless. I’ve done and seen everythin’ I care for and now I jus’ want it to end. She sighed, contemplating once again how best to release her sullen spirit and be done with this bitter reality. Am I the only one that’s this bored? This tired? She thought so. Even if all her friends were bored with reality, at least they had someone to eternally share that ennui with. She wasn’t granted such a luxury, and again she sighed in her self-absorbed way and daydreamed about a life that could never be hers. She glanced from her sanctuary on the rooftop at the happy lights of the city twinkling below. No one realized the world that lived right next door.

With her tan skin contrasted against the brilliant twilight, Neya drifted clumsily, yet silently, beside her friend on the roof top, as sounds of crashing dishes and fire alarms followed her along the breeze. As she landed, a wisp of her delicate blue wing brushed against the demon. Adelice, you’re up here again?!?! Everyone is really starting to worry, she said with a sputter of coughs; the city was no place for a faerae. Around her, flowers had already begun to grow from the cracked tar of the roof top.

Adelice’s head snapped up from its blissful daydream as her hair went wild into the breeze. She stared at Neya, a small smile forming in the corners of her thin lips. This is no place for you Neya and you know it. The smell alone could kill you, none the less the buildin’ we’re standin’ on. She said it more sharply than she meant to and she supposed she was sorry, in her own morbid way, but it was true. She could see Neya’s legs quaking beneath her, on the verge of collapsing beneath her weight, yet she made no motion to leave. The flowers that had begun to grow in the cracks now burst into full bloom as brilliant strawberry of the Indies and thorn apples stretched their petals towards the midnight sun.

Neya sighed in her pretty way, flower-weaved curls floating about her acorn face as her orange lily eyes remained aloof and impassive. She smoothed out her green and blue hemp shirt, readjusted the straps to a more comfortable setting behind her neck and gazed at Adelice with another delicate sigh. Everyone is concerned about you and I’m the only one who knows where you keep disappearing to. I supposed if you were running away there was almost certainly a good reason. She smiled sympathetically.

Adelice looked at her beautiful friend, the faerae princess, with a mixture of envy and longing behind her emotionless red eyes; what she wouldn’t give to switch places with her, if only to make life more interesting. She sighed, Why does it matter? Didn’t you think if I was runnin’ away that I wanted to be alone? She stared at Neya’s blank look and sighed, biting the bottom of her pristine lips. I jus’ needed to think, she continued.

Neya leaned her head to one side, eyebrows etched in gentle creases, as if to ask a question. It didn’t need to be asked, it was written all over her face. What ails you, dear demon?

It doesn’t matter. It’s not like you actually care.

Neya flinched as if being slapped across the face by a brutal hand. Her eyes flashed dangerously beneath the surface and she opened her mouth a few times, like a fish gasping for breath, as if she had something to say. The flowers that surrounded her slowly began to shrivel upon themselves and die.

Adelice just stared at her and through her and proceeded to drift off into her other world, her wistful day dream, and grumbled, Never mind. It’s nothing. Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’m jus’ blowin’ things outta proportion again. It’s nothing’ new. Then she stood, stretching her long slender limbs to the sky. She glanced over her shoulder at the girl who was trying hard not to vomit and grinned. Come on. Let’s get outta here. She dove off the side of the building, her boots making an audible thud against the bricks, Neya following closely behind.

***

Envy is the art of counting the other fellow's blessings instead of your own.

- Harold Coffin

In between the tree-ridden country and the smog-littered city sat the old Victorian mansion. The limbs of the willow trees out front drowned the garden and weeds had long since made their home amongst the crab grass. Browning bushes lined the cobblestone path to the front door, and its massive dirty glass windows leered on from above.

Hardly anyone drove by there these days. It had long since been forgotten, or maybe it had just been conveniently unnoticed; either way the people knew better not to go there. It was a place with an otherworldly feel that radiated from its very pores. The silhouette of the house seemed to ripple and pulse with a strange energy and only those of the pure of heart or clever of mind could ever truly notice. Even then, none yet had been brave enough to enter.

The dusty grandfather clock in the corner struck two o’clock in the morning; its chime mockingly echoed throughout the mansion. Trent waited irritably at the bottom of the grand central staircase. The stairs were carpeted in an ornamental turkey runner of deep red and blue that none of them could remember having put in. He stared at the heavy wooden double chamber door as if all his thoughts could will it to open, will Adelice to be standing on the other side. Heavenly scents of dinner wafted from the kitchen.

Adelice and Neya have been gone an awful long time now, he whined, fidgeting with the position