The Demon in Me: Escape from the Abyss, #3

By Frank DeCaire

Cassandra Davenport is a prisoner in her own body. An alien entity from a race known as the Archons lives behind her brain, controlling her body as though it were its home. She had a promising career and an entire lifetime in front of her. She attempted repeatedly to reestablish control over her physical form, even if for a brief interval, to notify others of her alien subjugation. Thus far, her attempts have been unsuccessful, notwithstanding that she was able to move her arm once. Now she has a new goal: to regain control of her body.

 

The longing to return home weighs heavily on Lieutenant Deanne Polski, though the location eludes everyone. She firmly believes that the secrets lie within the Tome of Revelations. The ancients discovered the new colonies over 3,000 years ago and documented their journey. She has vowed to spend every waking moment trying to wring out any scrap of information from the stories in the Tome to get the fleet home.

 

Captain Gavin Alastor has led the fleet away from the ancient world Banchin after a clash with the Archons. He wants to chart a course for the colonies, but he must first defend the fleet of unarmed civilian ships from constant attack. To make matters worse, there are Archons spreading and taking over people on his ship as well as other civilian ships. The purpose of their mission remains obscure, but he suspects at some point they will sabotage his fleet, steal critical information, and report back to allow their race to arrive at the colonies before they do. He must stop the Archons or arrive at the colonies early enough to rally forces to defend against them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frank DeCaire
• Release date: Sep 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223976264

Book preview

Prologue

3,000 Years ago...

It had been almost a year since the fleet left Banchin and months since the horrific radio transmission of the arrival of Archons on their home planet. Now the airwaves were silent, but Baxter continued to listen in and monitor frequencies from his old home. He wasn’t sure what he expected. For centuries, the Archons ruthlessly devoured every human occupied world. Now that he was part of the fleet led by Mirakas to escape the fall of the final planet, he didn’t feel any safer than he had when he lived on Banchin waiting for the inevitable invasion.

Many of the 100,000 humans in exile were in shock that Banchin, the final colony of 20 worlds, had fallen. Baxter was surprised that the number of suicides in the fleet was as low as reported. Many tried to keep hope alive, but it was difficult.

Baxter pressed the earpiece tighter into his ear and rested his head against his hand. He adjusted the sensitivity so high that his ear was filled with static. His mind formed patterns out of the static that he listened to, but he couldn’t quite hear anything with intelligence. Most of what he heard was noise from the stars.

Brother, how are you today? said Virgil.

Baxter sat up straight at his brother’s interruption. I am listening for intelligence.

His brother rolled his eyes. You are wasting your time. Every time a planet has been occupied by Archons, it goes dark.

Baxter shrugged. This time could be different.

Virgil stood straight and swept his arm around. Do you think these people are all obsessed with the fate of Banchin? Is that what they are doing here in radio central?

Baxter glanced to his right and watched a woman speaking into a thin microphone that stuck out from behind her ear. Another man next to her was also talking into a transmitter. Behind him was a row of computer terminals. Each was occupied by someone typing a message to be sent to another ship in the fleet. To his left was another operator that was checking the status of her radio equipment. A supervisor in a white shirt walked past with a tablet. He tapped on the surface of his tablet without watching where he was walking. Behind him was a row of terminals, most of which were occupied by individuals with no names that he knew. They were just co-workers to him, processing broken messages and routing them to the ship that they belonged to. Human intervention only occurred when the computers gave up.

Baxter shook his head at his brother. These people are processing messages that originate and are destined for other ships in the fleet. It is a mundane, pedestrian task. Something that is beneath my capabilities. What if a message were to be sent from Banchin? Hmm... Who would hear the message?

Virgil grinned. Oh, I see. You’re the chosen one.

Maybe so.

What difference would it make if a message were sent from Banchin that we missed? Huh? We are never going back, anyway.

It makes a difference to me. I want to know.

Virgil waved his hand. Bah. He walked away.

Baxter often wondered about his brother. Did the man not understand that they were making history? Mirakas has heard the voice of God. Everything that Mirakas has predicted so far has occurred as he had said it would. How much proof would Virgil need before he believed in their mission?

He pushed thoughts of his brother out of his mind. There was much to do, and he had his part to play, even if it was only a tiny part in the big scheme of things.

Baxter removed his earpiece, closed his eyes and listened to the sounds around him. Voices spoke and overlapped, but he could not quite understand what was being said. Keys on keyboards clicked in rapid succession. The humming sounds of motors filled the space. Some of the motors ran fans to cool equipment while others ran the ventilation that provided life-sustaining air to the space he occupied. Still other motors pumped coolant through pipes to equipment that needed enhanced cooling. The low rumbling sound of distant engines was a constant noise he had grown used to since he had set foot on this ship. It was the one unavoidable sound.

The voices of those around him increased in volume and speed. He opened his eyes and glanced to his right. One of the operators stood and walked around her chair as she continued to speak. She tapped on the shoulder of someone at a console and spoke directly to him. He nodded and typed a new message. Baxter leaned back and squinted to see what he was typing. The header block had the routing information filled in with All which meant the message was destined to be received by every person in the fleet. Something that was normally only used by the daily message.

Baxter stood and approached the two people at the terminal. The woman looked at him as he spoke. What is happening?

When she smiled, he noticed she had the deepest dimples he had ever seen. We just got word that a planet has been identified by one of the forward scouts.

Is it—

It is. It’s habitable. Her eyes told the whole story. She was very excited about the revelation of a world where humans could live.

Baxter was excited too, then his excitement dissipated like a rapidly leaking balloon. Mirakas had already informed them that the trip would take generations before they were to be delivered to a collection of three habitable planets. This planet that was just discovered could not possibly by one of the three promised lands.

The woman turned back to the terminal operator and assisted in formatting the message to be distributed to the fleet.

Baxter tapped on her shoulder. How far away is this planet?

She glanced at him, then back at the terminal while speaking. It is but three days away. Only two more jumps.

Baxter wandered back to his console and flopped into his seat. The situation made things complicated. Oh, he welcomed the prospect of a world that was habitable. The thought of running through an empty field, breathing real air, and feeling the warmth of sunshine on one’s face made his heart jump like a gazelle. Yet, all he could think about was the fate of Banchin. Surely, they were not far enough from the Archons to escape from their grasp. How long would it be before the Archons discovered humans were living on this new planet? A year? Maybe two?

The girl with the dimples sat in her seat next to Baxter. She smiled at him. He smiled back but felt as though his smile was a fraud. A facade he put on to hide his worried thoughts.

She leaned over and put her hand on his knee. What is wrong, Baxter?

His heart jumped. She knew his name? He had seen her in radio central several times, but never had any contact with her before now. How did she know who he was? Maybe his brother was right, and he had spent too much time obsessing over the non-existent transmissions from Banchin.

What was it she had just asked him? No matter. What has Mirakas said about this discovery?

He is currently in meditation over it. Maybe he is speaking to God. I hope, in my heart that he receives word that this is the destination. Our new home. She looked up at the ceiling. I heard rumors that the streams are crystal clear and the skies are azure blue.

Yes. I’m sure. Baxter’s cynical thoughts intruded. The trees are made of milk chocolate and... he sighed. I’m sorry. I just don’t think that we are safe from the Archons.

How long do we have to stay out here? How far do we have to travel? Her eyes turned glassy and Baxter worried she was about to cry.

Mirakas has said many times that it would take many generations before we arrived.

How long is that?

Baxter was suddenly shocked there were people in the fleet that didn’t understand the term generation. He did some mental calculations, estimating at least three generations. Assuming a generation was about 20 years...

At least 60 years. Maybe more.

Her jaw dropped, and she sat silently staring at him. He could see the tears forming in her eyes and he wasn’t sure what to do if she started bawling right here. He turned back to his terminal while she continued to silently stare at the side of his face.

I’m sorry, he said. He did not look at her. I could be wrong.

He knew he wasn’t wrong about the length of time. In fact, he suspected that nobody in the fleet would see the new colonies. Not in their lifetime. Their only hope was that their grandkids would set down on the promised worlds and form a new human society. A society that was free from the grasp of the Archons.

Mirakas also mentioned there would be many challenges along the way. Another prophesy about to be fulfilled.

CHAPTER 1

Today...

––––––––

Cassandra. Yo. Are you listening? The girl waved her hand in front of my face. What’s with the hair? Or, should I say, the lack of hair?

I’m forced to live inside my head. Evicted from my body. No, that’s not quite accurate. It’s more like living in a household where I’ve been grounded to my room by my parents. The door is locked from the outside, I have but one wall-mounted communication station that is normally ignored by my parents. Except, I’m not being punished by my parents. Oh no, the entity that has me imprisoned is an alien that has connected into my brain and prevents me from controlling my body. I can only communicate with the alien creature and only when it wants to listen to me. Oh, and there is one other thing that makes this so much worse: I can feel, smell, see, and hear, but I cannot control. Input, no output.

Hey, the girl kept waving in my face.

Yeah, I’m here. You just can’t hear me because I can’t control my vocal cords, my lips, my facial expressions—.

I can’t believe this chick is in my face and the alien inside of me is ignoring her. Normally, that girl doesn’t talk to me. Not much, anyway. Now what? She wants to have a full-blown conversation with me? I don’t even remember her name. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure she ever told me her name, though she seems to know my name. Maybe she thinks more of me than I do of her.

I felt my hand rub my smooth head, which was getting scratchy. The girl in my face wanted to know what I did with my hair. Wasn’t she the one that made fun of my bright red head of hair when I first arrived? That part about her I distinctly remember. She claimed to be joking, but I suspected she was jealous. Though I really shouldn’t judge her motivations. Maybe it’s just her way of coping when she’s nervous. I remember a guy in one of my freshman classes was like that. When he was nervous, he’d blurt out the most insulting thing I had ever heard. As soon as he spoke something, I knew he had regretted it because he’d turn red and walk away. Does that explain this girl’s behavior?

Yeah, I wished my hair was still intact. The scratchy stubble felt like a wire brush that someone would use to scrub the surface of rocks. Was my overlord going to keep shaving my head, or was it planning to let my hair grow back in its natural color? A shade of brown that made me blend in with everyone else.

The girl folded her arms and squinted at me.

I heard laughter, but it wasn’t from the girl. I recognized the voice right away, even though it was a voice that I had never heard with my ears. It was the internal voice of the Archon in the back of my head. It was laughing at our predicament. Playing us against each other.

Now my lips moved and my voice spoke, but it wasn’t me doing the speaking. No, it was the monster controlling my body without my permission. It was all so violating. My hand continued to stroke my scruffy head. Something that was creeping me out.

You like my new hairstyle? said the Archon to the girl.

Her gaze softened a bit, but she kept her arms crossed. She leaned to one side so she could check out the side view of my head. Then she rolled her eyes.

Is that the new look? she said.

Maybe? said my Archon.

I think you’re just trying to get attention.

Oh, I suppose the red hair wasn’t cutting it?

I know your type. You can’t just settle for being the center of attention in every room. No, you have to be over the top. Always thinking of something crazier. She turned and disappeared through the hatch leading from the makeshift lounge to the outside passageway. I could see through my eyes that now I had the lounge to myself. The digital clock on the wall said it was just after 9 in the morning. Most of the passengers were probably still sleeping since they had nothing else to do.

My eyes dropped, and I could not believe what I was seeing. My gut stuck out a little. The little bastard in my head wanted me to know that we had another little bun in the oven, or three. Well, it was an Archon baby or babies and it was in its own sack. The Archon tilted my head back up. It didn’t speak to me. It didn’t have to. It was just tossing out the fact that we were going to produce more centipedes and infect more humans. Maybe the girl that just spoke to me was next on the infection list.

I felt so hungry that I could have eaten roadkill. It’s too bad that my human brain was receiving signals from all over my body, but I couldn’t send a single command for anything. I felt everything. Pain, heat, cold, smells, sight, everything. Not that I wanted it all cut off. God knows it would be really boring if my brain were just suspended inside of my skull in total darkness with no sight or sound. Like floating in one of those sensory deprivation chambers. Something I tried once with a friend and learned to regret it.

The demon walked my body out into the passageway. All I could think of was that we were going to ambush that poor girl and infect her. When my body went the other direction, I wondered what the demon was up to. We continued down the passageway until we arrived at a storage compartment.

Ah, food.

The hunger was intense. Maybe the Archon was going to eat enough to take care of that. It made me wonder why it went to the storage compartment and not the kitchen. I saw my hand open the hatch. My leg stepped into the dark compartment. The light switch flipped on and the hatch was closed behind. Then the Archon moved to the first shelf stacked with emergency food supplies. I watched through my eyes what it was selecting. It didn’t even look at the label. Hell, I only caught a glimpse of some macaroni and cheese with broccoli. Well, maybe it won’t be too bad.

My hands tore the bag open and all I could think of was: how is this meal going to be prepared? Did the Archon know of a hot plate stored in this compartment? Then my hands tilted the pack into my mouth. The dry mixture slid onto my tongue, where I chewed. Against my will, of course. Holy smokes, that stuff was dry as dust.

The Archon continued to consume the freeze-dried pack of macaroni and cheese before it searched for something. On another shelf was a five-liter container of water, but the Archon didn’t seem to care how big it was. It opened the valve on the bottom of the container and stuck my face under the spigot. I got a good slug of water before my hand turned off the spigot and returned to the shelf of food. It wiped my mouth, not that the front of my shirt being soaked mattered to the alien controlling my body.

My hand reached up and plucked the next meal stacked on the shelf. Oh God! Another macaroni and cheese pack.

Hey, how about some variety? I yelled inside of my head. The demon ignored me. My hand tilted the next bag of dryness into my mouth and crunched the macaroni and powdered cheese. The flavor had quite a punch, but the dryness made my mouth feel pasty.

There was a trip back to the water. I wondered why the Archon inside didn’t just grab a bunch of bags and sit by the water. Well, there’s no accounting for efficiency.

After another slug of water, it was back to the next dry pack of macaroni. An hour went by as this ritual repeated. I wondered just how much of this garbage my body could handle before something broke down. I’m sure the whole mixture inside of me was going to culminate into some major constipation.

What was strange was the fact that I still felt hungry. How was that possible? Maybe the creature rearranged my internal organs. That would make sense. It had that pouch in the front that produced centipedes, which was an organ that was grown after the alien took over my body. Why wouldn’t it change my stomach and intestines to provide a more efficient method of delivering nutrients to the bug growing inside of me?

By the time the creature inside of me stopped my body from eating, one shelf of freeze-dried food was consumed. A pile of foil wrappers littered the deck and a large container of water was almost empty. I felt the bubbles coming up from my stomach. A loud belch came out of my mouth. It tasted like half-digested broccoli.

That’s nice. Thanks for that, I commented. The demon ignored me as it returned to the passageway. My body continued to the sleeping compartment I was assigned to. Then I crawled into bed and closed my eyes. I wasn’t tired, but the Archon was.

The Archon began to dream. I could sense some of it. Just glimpses of what it was experiencing. I wondered if it would lose control of my body. I vowed to stay awake all night to find out. Maybe the Archon could just go to sleep while I went to warn someone that I’m being controlled by an alien creature. Something I would do right after I found a breath mint that could take care of this broccoli aftertaste.

Minutes stretched into hours and the hours felt like days. I was so bored I wanted to scream and wake the alien creature inside of me. Of course, I’ve tried that several times in the past with no success. The Archon can literally shut off the connection to my brain, so it can get a good night’s rest without my interruption. At least, that’s how I think it works.

I had so much time to think. All I could do was wish I could read books while I was stuck in a body that I couldn’t control. Thoughts of the Tome continued to swirl in my head. Especially after my encounter with Captain Alastor and the information that the Archon knew. I spent many hours thinking about philosophy and religion. One thing was for sure: I knew some of the Tome was real. At least some accounts seemed to line up, and the matches between what was in the Tome and what we witnessed were... uncanny. I’m still trying to get my mind wrapped around the fact that Banchin exists, the Temple of the Exodus exists, and the Archons exist.

That leads me to the point: does God exist? How much of the Tome has to match up before I had to admit that? This wasn’t just a matter of faith, but to me, it was proof. If the fleet runs into the Temple of Advent, well, that would just be the icing on the cake.

So, if God exists, then the entire Tome would be an accurate account, right? Or is that just a circular reference? I tried to apply what I learned in logic class to this, but I needed to crack my textbook and review the material. How much of the Tome must line up with my observations around me before I can be assured that it is accurate? Something in the back of my mind kept nagging me that maybe the things that lined up were just some outlandish coincidences. Yet...

I said a small prayer. It felt awkward and foreign to me. I patiently waited to see if anything happened. Maybe a sign from God? My religious friends told me that prayers have power, but I never really believed any of that. Now that I have these experiences, my friends are not around to debate these things that I know to be facts. What I would give to re-kindle that religious conversation my friend and I had a few of years ago.

I feared I would spend the rest of my life trapped in my body, controlled by an alien that was indifferent to my plight.

CHAPTER 2

The Carmen was long and contained hundreds of large compartments where small items could be shipped between planets. It also had a lower level with larger compartments to haul bulk items. Buford had applied for the job as a ship’s engineer years ago. When he thought back, he couldn’t remember exactly what year it was that he signed up for the gig. It paid the bills and kept him out of jail. Something that just seemed to happen to him from time-to-time. It also had free room and board, or as he liked to call it: room on board.

He walked along a corridor that went from the engine compartments to midship. A cross passage jogged to the port side of the ship and connected to another long passageway that led forward. Hatches isolated the rear half of the ship from the front half. There was little light inside the ship. The company did this to save money on power consumption. Buford didn’t mind. He liked dark spaces. The bright lights that lit up the galley made his eyes hurt. At the moment, all he could think about was getting to the head. He had already held it too long and things were getting painful.

A hatch to one of the storage compartments opened, and Tamara hopped out. She turned and slammed the hatch shut. Then she leaned her back against the hatch while breathing heavy.

He smiled at her, but she had not seen him yet. Is there a boogie monster after you?

Her head jerked toward him. Then she put her hand on her chest and let out a breath of air. Buford! You scared the crap out of me. What the hell? Do you just hide in the darkened passages and wait to spook people as they walk by?

Hey, I was just heading forward for the head. Don’t flatter yourself.

She continued to breathe hard while she pushed the bridge of her glasses up. You would not believe the big-ass creature in there. We must have picked it up someplace recently. I’ve never seen anything that big before.

What is it?

I don’t know. It kind of looks like a centipede. Except it’s not like any centipede I’ve ever seen before. Maybe one of those giant bugs from a jungle planet, like you see on those nature videos.

Buford smiled. I wanna see.

She stood away from the hatch and turned to face him. Help yourself. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.

He unlatched the door and paused. Then he opened it a crack and put his head up to the opening. There was no movement inside. He opened it a little further and heard Tamara’s breathing behind him. A laugh welled up inside him and he shoved it down as he plotted his next move.

He flung the hatch open and yelled, Boo!

Tamara jumped back and stared at him with bug eyes. The thick lenses of her glasses made her eyes seem twice their actual size. He laughed uncontrollably.

That’s not funny! she said.

When he got his laughing fit under control, he looked inside the compartment. He stepped over the threshold and hit the light switch. A dim red light came on and provided very little illumination. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small inspection light that he carried.

The tiny beam from the light did a decent job of lighting up a circular area in front of him. He stepped further inside. When he turned his head, Tamara was standing just outside the hatch. She looked as if she was going to slam the hatch shut as soon as something inside moved. That would not be nice, but he could see her doing it.

He stood up straight. I don’t see anything. Are you sure it’s not just a reflection on your glasses or something?

Hey, I have perfect vision with these glasses on!

I’m sure, but... why do you put up with glasses, anyway? I mean, those are really thick lenses. Most people just get the surgery and avoid the glasses.

I had plans to get the surgery. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.

He panned his light across the compartment. Well, I don’t see anything in here.

She huffed and pointed. You haven’t even looked behind those boxes.

He danced around for a minute. The pressure from his bladder was becoming a problem.

Why are you dancing around like that? she said.

I have to go shake the weasel.

Then go.

I want to see this crazy bug of yours before I take off.

Well, then, check behind those crates. She held out her arm and pointed to a stack of boxes in the corner of the compartment. He looked where she pointed and directed his flashlight beam to illuminate that section of the space. Something fluttered and Tamara shrieked. He turned and looked at her. She held her hands together in front of her chest and shivered.

Calm down, he said. It’s probably just a mouse.

Did you see how big that thing was?

How big is what thing? said Captain Maxwell. Tamara chirped when he spoke from behind her. Buford glanced back and saw the captain with his space mug staring into the compartment. He didn’t look like he was ready to jump in and help. The man just stood outside the compartment, observing.

I didn’t see anything yet. Buford turned his head and stepped forward. There was no sense in rushing inside and scaring whatever creature was living off the supplies in this compartment. Better to sneak up on it and catch it off guard.

He looked to the side and put his hand on a fire extinguisher mounted to the bulkhead. He released the strap that held it in place, then lifted it from the wall hook. It weighed more than he expected. He put the penlight in his teeth and held the extinguisher by the ends with both hands. If the creature came out in front of him, he could hurl the heavy container at it and maybe kill it before it runs past him.

He turned to look at Tamara and Captain Maxwell. Don’t let it get out of this compartment.

Oh, don’t worry, she said. If I see something moving this way, I’ll slam this hatch shut, lock it and leave you for dead.

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

When he turned his head forward, something moved behind a crate near the back of the compartment. He walked faster while trying to keep his boots from banging on the deck and scaring the creature away. He rounded the corner and saw the tail end of something with a lot of legs and fur sticking out of its back. It disappeared behind another crate.

He kicked at the crate and heard a ticking sound. Its feet must be scurrying across the deck, trying to get traction. Buford stood still and listened to track the creature. It was receding into the darkness further back into the compartment.

Come on, you little shit, he said, while trying to hold the light with his teeth. He thought about the