The Saints Blood

By Kornelia Blackmore

I am a demon sent to choose a few human families for the taking before my brother gets to them, as this day is typically for my kin. Which I do not understand, but it is for balance.

 

Just as the world must rebuild itself, it also must be destroyed. That is why I rise beginning the month of October on All Hallows' eve (Halloween) and then continue on the prime holidays.

 

One that pertains to the celebration of their carnage (Thanksgiving). The other happens to be the eve of worshipping my brother in the spirit of gift-giving (Christmas Eve) and the following day.

 

And the final day when humans lose their inhibitions (New Year's Eve). That day is when my family comes out to play. Since humans consume spirits (or alcohol), it makes our process easier to possess them.

 

In this timeline, however, it is challenging to find victims since cameras are everywhere—especially telephone cameras. So I must pretend that I am a human when I am not.

 

I am a demon with free will versus my counterparts who do not. Which makes the process of reaping souls on the day humans worship my brother very satisfying.

 

I was sitting on a bench in front of a saloon, waiting for my next victim since I had already claimed a few earlier this evening. But their souls were not as tasty as I would've preferred.

 

If the spirit is twisted, the better they taste. So it is not the pure souls who appeal to me. It is my duty to The Creator. And it is out of curiosity that I pondered a human's rumored "pure soul."

 

As the creator loved to call it. My brother says he has seen many, but I have not.

 

I wish to find said "pure soul" to abolish their naive belief by revealing my proper form after I have wreaked havoc on their loved ones.

And the answer I would like to know is; would they remain a pure soul after seeing the death and torture I bring? I have my doubts, and it is why I wish to know.

 

I will find one someday; I have all the time in the world.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kornelia Blackmore
• Release date: Dec 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215783351

Kornelia Blackmore

I started my writing journey as an angsty teenager back in 2008, and I noticed how many reviews I kept getting for the fan fictions I wrote on their website over the years. One day I was reading a Webtoon by June Purr called SubZero and intrigued with the idea of wanting to create a world but with people of color, that’s what birthed Kornelia Blackmore.   Normally this is the part where I tell you I have degrees but I don’t Just another really cool mini story that set me on the path in my early college years.   I failed my English composition classes (and even creative writing). Until I came across a really cool guy named Mr. D at Prince Georges Community College.   He was one of the first people to have ever made me feel like I was a writer, and even asked me “how the hell did you end up in my class?” until eventually everyone in my class was asking me for help with their writing pieces. I think that was probably the only other time in life I felt accomplished from others asking me for help, and I grew to love the experience as a means to solidify my place as an artist.   But, writing is my lifeblood, and this is the quote I live by in all of my writing projects;   “Life has enough limitations. Writing shouldn’t be one of them.”   This quote is how I aspire to learn the art of writing in all its different forms and genres and will continue to pursue that passion with the same dedication in everything else I do.   I would rather you guys get to know me, as me, instead of some stuffy long biography that no one ever really reads. But thank you for buying my book, and reading it.   Blessings friends.

Book preview

Chapter 1:

The Demon of Christmas

I am a demon sent to choose a few human families for the taking before my brother gets to them, as this day is typically for my kin. Which I do not understand, but it is for balance.

Just as the world must rebuild itself, it also must be destroyed. That is why I rise beginning the month of October on All Hallows’ eve (Halloween) and then continue on the prime holidays.

One that pertains to the celebration of their carnage (Thanksgiving). The other happens to be the eve of worshipping my brother in the spirit of gift-giving (Christmas Eve) and the following day.

And the final day when humans lose their inhibitions (New Year’s Eve). That day is when my family comes out to play. Since humans consume spirits (or alcohol), it makes our process easier to possess them.

In this timeline, however, it is challenging to find victims since cameras are everywhere—especially telephone cameras. So I must pretend that I am a human when I am not.

I am a demon with free will, versus my counterparts who do not. Which makes the process of reaping souls on the day humans worship my brother very satisfying.

I was sitting on a bench in front of a saloon, waiting for my next victim since I had already claimed a few earlier this evening. But their souls were not as tasty as I would’ve preferred.

If the spirit is twisted, the better they taste. So it is not the pure souls who appeal to me. It is my duty to The Creator. And it is out of curiosity that I pondered a human’s rumored pure soul.

As the creator loved to call it. My brother says he has seen many, but I have not.

I wish to find said pure soul to abolish their naive belief by revealing my proper form after I have wreaked havoc on their loved ones.

And the answer I would like to know is; would they remain a pure soul after seeing the death and torture I bring? I have my doubts, and it is why I wish to know.

I will find one someday; I have all the time in the world.

Ulysses Walker

Hey, love, would you be a dear and get some more egg nog? We ran out since I drank it all! My mother called from the kitchen.

I groaned and slammed my book in my lap since I was sitting on the flower-patterned couch I’d had in this old house since I was a kid.

Mom, seriously? Why do I have to go? I was at a delicious part in my book.

Plus, I refuse to be bothered by this stupid holiday.

Listen, Christmas is around the corner & I want things to be PERFECT for the rest of the family; otherwise, don’t expect to eat the dinner I make that day.

Fine, I’ll go, I whined.

My mom turned up the Christmas carol It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas on her sound bar.

I swear I hate people. I wanna have faith in people, but the more shit I see, the harder it is to hold faith in human decency. It’s frustrating.

So, I sat up from the couch and walked past the undecorated Christmas Tree, which stood around the steps. Standing under the foyer’s sparkling green and red lights, I grabbed my black military-style trench coat and wristlet, which hung on the coat rack.

Then pulled my Uggs on and slid my arms through the holes of the jacket. And adjusted the hood to my hoodie. Grabbing the car keys out of my wallet, I opened the front door and ignored the jingling from the wreath. And strolled onto the pathway toward the parking lot.

I looked at my 2002 Honda SUV, and I swear I love my car. It’s literally my second home.

Gazing around my neighborhood, I saw the single-family houses adorned with different color lights; Mrs. Johnson’s home was brightly lit with an animated Santa whipping the reindeer on her roof. Mr. Sean’s place was disgustingly cheery with the blowup snowman on his front lawn.

The scent of pot and dewy grass wafted in my nostrils, and I immediately thought about Fred. 

He’s the neighborhood pothead, and thas’ why he only decorated his front porch. Thassit.

He didn’t do all the extra shit these people do, like putting up lights on their lawns or roofs.

Who the hell has time to climb a roof?

But my mom always competes with the neighbors, which is why I can’t with this bullshit holiday.

My boots clomping against the concrete, I pressed the button to unlock my car, and the headlights flashed twice, letting me know it was open.

I won’t lie and say I initially hated the holidays because I didn’t, not wholly, anyway.

I hopped in the car, and the cold leather seats greeted me; I shrieked and dropped my keys, then reached under the steering wheel to turn the car on to use the seat warmers.

God, I suck at adulting.

But between being stood up on Christmas Eve & my mom not feeding me around this time as her way of punishing me, I don’t give a shit about this holiday. It’s all fake, anyway.

After turning the car on, I leaned my head against the headrest and sighed. I decided to enjoy the low hum of the vehicle running under me.

The years I spent in retail confirmed how fake people are and how they quickly fuck shit up for others to get an ungrateful kid a gift they didn’t earn. I have to earn my meals with my mom, what’s their excuse?

I decided that making a pit stop to be alone would be best since I hate being around her when she’s like this, so fuck it.

——

Parking into the spot, I glared at the brightly lit sign that read Sam’s Liquors.

Observing my surroundings, I started spying on people like a weirdo.

I noticed a small crowd dancing on a patio decorated with red and green lights. And the two intoxicated men standing in front of the bar were laughing.

The three drunk women stood outside smoking cigarettes, and I could tell by how they were dressed that they were looking for attention.

If I had to guess what they were talking about, it was probably about how another dude or girl fucked them over or their drama at work. Or some other dumb shit.

Awesome.

Usually, I would send my mom a text or my friend Abby, but I didn’t feel like it. Not right now. I need a moment to myself. 

I pulled my hood up, turned the car off, and hopped out to walk to the liquor store that was next to the bustling bar.

The frigid air pricked my fingers, and I shoved my hands in my pockets. Damn, I forgot gloves.

I heard a loud bell ring in my drums, so I stopped in front of the door and turned to look at the dude sitting on a bench outside the bar.

He was wearing a black trench coat with his leg crossed over, smoking a cigar while staring at the sky.

He’s probably a cool guy to talk to, but I’m always too curious.

Walking into the poorly decorated store, I was greeted with a blast of warm air from the ceiling, and I shook my hands to get some blood flow going.

I strolled down the aisle to my left toward the fridge tucked in the corner and grabbed my usual plum sake and a case of beer.

After paying at the counter, I grabbed my box that held a twelve-pack of beer and two bottles of Plum Sake, then pushed my weight into the glass door, and noticed the trench coat dude standing there like he was waiting for me.

Yeah, that’s not creepy or anything. But I can’t see how he looks, either.

Excuse me, miss, did you need help with that?

I turned to face him and noticed his handsomeness, which changed my original ‘he’s a creep’ thought.

Uh yeah, that would be great if that’s ok with you.

I don’t trust people after being hurt, but he’s interesting. My life sucks ass, and I hate this holiday, so why not share a casual moment in passing.

He stepped closer, and I handed him the liquor box. The man held it with ease.

Using my keys, I unlocked my car & told him he could put the liquor box in the passenger seat. He did without breaking a sweat.

I stood by the passenger door when he shut it, and he turned to face me.

Yeah, this guy is way out of my league.

Wavy dark hair rested by his torso, and I noticed how eerily bright his eyes were, almost like honey with specks of gold in the irises. It didn’t help that he was tanned, trimmed, and chiseled.

He flashed a dazzling smile, and it made my knees weak.

I’m ordinarily unimpressed by dudes. However, I am invested in what he has to say.

Even if it was to say thank you and move on, I’m okay with some eye candy.

It’s not like he would be interested in me anyways. I’m ugly, so there’s that.

I shoved my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie. Hey, thanks for helping, I said.

I am happy to be of service, he replied.

His voice is just like I thought it would be, smooth and rumbly.

He should consider voice acting if he doesn’t already. He would make a killing voicing the sexy bad guy.

Anyways, I should get going, and my mom would be pissed if I’m late.

He put his hands in his coat pockets. I see, but may I ask you something if it is not too much trouble? He inquired.

Uh, okay, sure? What’s up?

Please ask me out or anything to make me not have to go home. I have a better time talking to strangers than I do to my family.

I can’t stand them, honestly.

"Are you doing anything at the moment? I am aware you said your mother would be upset if you did not return promptly, but would you be interested in spending