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With whom you sin together,

Let it take hold.

Wear it proud and forever,

The 'Demonskin' of old...

---

The emptiness extended for miles. Black, colourless void. One could see in every direction the sheer hopelessness of the dark. Uma saw it. A mere instant ago she was assaulted by a scene from hell, writhing tendrils enveloping her body, swallowing the surrounding light. Now, and in what felt like no time at all, she found herself hurtling through nothingness, the memory of her original vision fresh in mind.

The talisman had shattered, releasing all the badness within.

My sins. My thoughts...

Her mind had been vulnerable, susceptible to otherworldly influences.

I opened myself to them, let them gather and strengthen...

She had lost her sense of time and place. No awareness of how long she'd been swept away from reality.

They feel...wonderful!

A guilty conscience is a powerful thing. Ripe for exploitation. And Uma knew what had been done to her — what Kianna had done to her. Thanks to her machinations Uma had been granted the opportunity to explore herself, deeper than anyone might think (or dare) to do. Her soul, bared for her own consideration. The darkness helped her focus.

Kianna. Oh, miserable meddling Kianna! You tried to possess me, force open my soul and let the supernatural consume me! But I've news for you, sweetheart: IT DIDN'T WORK!!!

Uma roared into the void, triumph swelling in her heart. She could feel her body flow with power. Was it magical? Paranormal? Heavenly? Or dredged from the murky depths of hell? She didn't care. It was all the same to her. Confidence coursed through her as she coalesced her thoughts into a clearer form. Her instincts were excited. Why should she turn away her desires? Her wants, her needs? Lust led her in a moment of wanton weakness to find comfort in the arms of her son Jacob. Refusing to think about the incident kept her normal. But why bother anymore? Kianna's gift now had a split meaning. Her cousin-in-law intended to corrupt her for her own aims, instead she had managed to avoid falling into the trap, thus...the power collected during her private moments alone with the talisman was hers to own...

Oooohh, I can feel it...

Suspended in darkness, Uma went limp, her body experiencing a rush of pleasure. It travelled from head-to-toe: fizzling fingertips, numbing nerves, and setting other parts aflame. Heralding the start of her transformation.

She was becoming something more than human.

Far from her, in the smoky black absence of the world, a light burned. A tiny speck of illumination. Uma guided herself too it, reaching out with newfound ability. Swimming in the dark, she moved closer and closer, until more specks appeared. Four of them. The brightest among them caught her attention...

Jacob, she sensed her son's presence in the aether, I feel you! You are warm and wanting. She extended her arm, as near to the glowing ember as she could afford — her body having stopped moving before she could complete her journey. That was not a concern for the lusting mother, who cast her emotions ahead of her physical form, comforting the small fiery twinkle with a blanket of rich, suffocating lust. Uma discovered she could see slivers of his feelings...reciprocating her own desire to fuck. Oh to be horny and in your prime! The fact they were mother and son had apparently been forgotten, lost to sordid fantasy and carnal need. She felt herself linked to him.

Shhh...Jacob...I am here...can you feel me? I want you inside me again...

There was no response. Probably to be expected. Uma hadn't exact knowledge of what power she could exercise. Simply learning the truth of the talisman wasn't enough to teach her. The sensations she exuded spilled over to the other lights, whom she guessed were Michael, Cynthia, and Donnie. No matter, she thought, they'll all come to understand love beyond boundaries soon.

I need time to understand...time to comprehend what I've become, she realised.

The dream-scape shifted around her. Pitch-black gave way to coughing smoke, great clouds of ash pummelling her as she accelerated. She felt herself falling back to Earth. No! Wait! I need to stay...need to know more! Her protests were met with indifference, her taste of power quickly escaping her. What more is there to my...my...awakening...?

You aren't going to learn anything shouting at no __thing_ ,_ her mind scolded her.

Fuck! I'm so close...

Close, but not close enough.

Have to wait, I guess...

You will, Uma's mind answered, as the nervous woman fell, trapped in conversation with herself. You'll have to wait some more before you get to have fun. Only a little while longer.

The wind howled as smog-clouds flew past.

Mmmm...I do wanna have fun...

Kianna wanted you to lose yourself. She made an error in her calculations. Fun is what you deserve after what's happened. She can shove it!

Yes, YES! Exactly.

You'll be able to taste heights of pleasure you never thought possible...bend others to you...let them gnaw and sup at your greatness...

Uma liked the sound of that. What power was in store for her, what wondrous gifts did her subconscious tease? She couldn't wait to find out.

There were still questions. Questions that languished in the corner of her mind as her fall continued. Not much time left until she returned. She'd begun to feel again — feel things properly, that is. The mundane itch and ache of her nervous system, not the surreal sensations that surged through her in this otherworld. The orange glow of the demon Axel's flames greeted her in the distance.

Wait! What about Axel? What's happened to him?

Nothing that will last...nothing you can't control...

I don't get it?

She heard the voice in her head harrumph. Uma's subconscious was evidently tired of stringing her along. What is a queen without her servants?

...s-servants?

She struck ground. Well, something solid, though she wasn't able to see. Another eye-searing flash and her vision returned. Fear. Terror. A dreadful feeling of powerlessness. Then flames, licking the seared ground. Shadows of the burning hound. No more than a second later everything evaporated, the commotion had cleared...and she was back, on her skinned knees, in the forest.

Uma gasped, her lungs spluttering, panic gripping her, the air around an unwelcome presence. Stuck between too cold and too hot, if her mind could make sense of that paradox. She was back in the real world. Headache, bruises, winded...yep, she was back alright.

“Gah, that was one helluva trip." She glanced upwards, finding Axel, who sat a few metres ahead of her, panting happily — as if nothing untoward had occurred.

“I liked your new look," she smiled, the family dog tilting its head. What was she doing? The dog couldn't understand a word she'd said. “Wish I could work out what just went down," she whispered.

Axel suddenly lurched forward, hacking up broken pieces of the pendant that'd been the cause of so much trouble. The fragments settled amongst a pool of vomited-up kibble. Inert. Uma simply stared at the sickly mess, grimacing.

“Ew. Not touching that."

Uma didn't know how to process what she'd seen and heard. Axel looked completely normal, barking and wagging his tail. He was, by all appearances, an ordinary dog. Nothing more, nothing less.

She rose from her knees, brushing her clothes. “I...um...you see anything strange boy?"

“WRROOO!!!"

“Yeah sure, me neither," she shook her head, “let's keep it that way, yeah?"

The giddy mutt yipped.

* * *

Returning to the car, and her waiting family, Uma noticed her limbs — bruised from falling in the woods — had healed. Unusually fast as well; her skin looked pristine, as though nothing had scraped it. She led Axel by the collar.

Donnie waved at his mom and dog. “Hey Axel! You're back," he said to the mutt, “find anything cool?" Axel mindlessly licked his chops, big globs of bubbly saliva dribbling from his muzzle.

Uma brought him to the open door, hefting the furry lump into the back seat, ordering her sons to keep a better eye on him. “Let's get back on track, yeah?" Tony started the car, while Jacob mumbled an unintelligible affirmative.

“Mom, uh, Jacob's not feeling well," Donnie noted. Uma looked at her eldest son, pale-faced and trying in vain to sleep. Discomfort was written across his features, and he propped his head up with an arm against the door, hiding his eyes from her sight. Keeping something from stirring within him, perhaps? He sure looked peaky.

“I thought he was okay," Tony addressed Donnie, as confused as Uma was, “when did this start?"

“Just after mom went to find Axel."

Uma's stomach turned. Reaching out and sensing her son's secret lust played again in her memory. She went silent, her demeanour stiff. What's happening to me and my family?

Her husband wasn't in the mood for repeated delays. “Well we're almost there, so prop him up with a cushion or a bag and let's go!"

* * *

Meanwhile, Michael and Cynthia went their separate way to Carlyle, transported by Michael's second-hand car as it trundled along the road with a lack of grace characteristic of the old, worn motor. Excitement was abuzz inside, and both siblings were conversing. They were optimistic. The Eriksson family's prospects were sure to improve with the change in scenery.

“Did we ever think one of us would end up in hospital?" Cynthia asked.

“Hey, rough part of town, can't say none of us weren't warned."

“Yeah."

A brief pause ensued, during which Cynthia kept her mind on the future, not the past — or tried to. One misplaced kick or punch and the talk they'd be having would've been far more grim. You can never count on nothin' going wrong in a fight, she told herself, my brother's exceptionally lucky to get out of the city in one piece...we all are...

“D'ya think mom's doing okay?" Michael asked, unsure if she was receptive to further conversation.

“What do you mean?"

Michael scratched his chin. “She's looking kinda stressed recently."

“Can't blame her."

“No, suppose not..."

“I'm worried though. Donnie getting mugged really threw her off-kilter."

Cynthia carefully considered her words. “Best thing to do is support her. How would you expect to react when you get that kinda news?"

“Not well."

“Not well is an understatement. I'd be in pieces. Viciously attacked, and then finding out he's a coma!? Too much for anyone to handle without losing it."

“She's done great throughout the ordeal."

“I have to agree. She kept her head despite the situation. Way to go mom!" she punched the air, restraining herself in case she smashed her first on the automobile interior. In open air, Cynthia would've been partial to a much more vigorous display.

“We should let her know."

“Hmm?"

“Let her know we appreciate her being there for Donnie," Michael explained, thinking about his mom's trials, and noting his own lack of moral support. Not his fault, he was just as shaken as the rest of the family — perhaps more — when Donnie was attacked. That did not forgive his inaction though.

“Oh absolutely — sorry Mikey, just zoned out there for a second. How close are we now?"

He checked the route map. “My phone says five minutes."

“Five minutes?" Cynthia's hands shook in restless anticipation. Her feet bounced up-and-down the passenger side's floor. “Are you as excited as me to see where we're gonna live?"

“I am. Very," said Michael, quite flatly.

“Don't sound like it."

“I don't, do I?"

“Nope. You seem a bit dour today."

He paused. He did sound like that, didn't he?

“I'm just...muddled."

“Muddled?"

“Yeah, y'know — confused? Bewildered? Feeling a bit weird."

“Why?"

Keeping his eyes on the road (much as he wanted to have a real face-to-face), Michael tried to explain: “ah, I don't really know. Suppose that's why I feel muddled."

“You feel muddled about the source of your...muddlement?"

“Is that a word?"

“No. Sounds like it should be though."

“Yeah, has an old-school vibe to it, like a novel."

His sister laughed. “Wow...my brother's talking about books...that's new!"

“Hey! Watcha mean? I read books."

His little indignation amused her.

“Sure, but I never saw you as someone who read old novels."

“Well that part, yeah, is just me embellishing the conversation."

“Ooh, embellishing?" she sniped, maintaining a playful tone. “Another choice word."

“It's not...I'm not trying to be pretentious, it's just that—"

“Pretentious? Good God! Muddled...embellished...pretentious? Three in a row! Oo __h_ -la-di-da_ Mr. I-Read-Books!"

“Cut it out. I just said I felt muddled." Any more of this and Michael would be upset for real, despite knowing his sister was the only entertainment available on their journey.

She acquiesced to his demand, albeit planning to tease him about it later. Not like Jacob though. None of them overstepped bounds the way he did. “Fine, fine, I get it. And ya don't know why?"

“No I don't."

“Truth be told, I can see where you're coming from," she sighed.

“You do?"

“Yep. There's something that's been bugging me for months now. All started back in May. I reckon it's the same thing you've been harpin' on about. Correct me if I'm wrong, yeah? But I think something happened between mom and dad."

“Something happened?"

“Something big. Something nasty. Like...I dunno...one of them cheating on the other?"

That is big, he thought. Man, that would wreck the family...shit, just thinkin' about it even...

“You really think that's the case?"

“Well it feels like it, y'know? They haven't spoken a huge amount since Donnie woke up...and before that dad was away working...there's something to it."

“What clued you in?"

“The way they avoid each other, and are more like a couple of wooden actors in a stage play than a loving couple whenever they're in the same room. Noticed mom sending a few harsh looks his way too."

“So dad might be the one who...messed up?" Michael tried to imagine his father having an affair, betraying Uma, but he couldn't. He wasn't sure he knew him enough to get inside Tony's head and understand if he bore such a weakness. He was only his son, not a psychic.

Great, now it's been mentioned I won't ever let it go, will I? I'll keep noticing the little things.

Cynthia continued her take on the situation, rife with misgivings. “Makes sense. But then again, I did see him doing the same to mom when she wasn't paying attention. Actually they both seem to be glaring at each other behind their backs. Whoever it was, they got caught anyhow. D'ya think Donnie or Jacob noticed?"

“Donnie? No. He doesn't like that type of drama. Neither do I, we're kinda the same in that regard."

“Our little brother's awful nice. He'd sooner see himself mugged again than let dear old mom and dad get ugly. I noticed you didn't answer me about Jacob?"

Can you give me a minute's rest without forcing me to think about Jacob?

“Ugh, I don't really care what he thinks. The guy's too self-absorbed to notice those sorta problems until they slap him in the face."

“You don't care what he thinks. That doesn't mean I nor Donnie don't. Get a grip on you stupid sibling rivalry 'cause it'll only bite you when you least expect it."

“It's not stupid, the guy's an ass." You're insulated from it 'cause he never picked on girls, he wanted to scream, but wisely chose not to.

“I know that, but it does you no good to ignore him when there's a problem."

“Listen, whatever's up between mom and dad is their business. Whether it's an affair, or a fight, or something else. Getting caught up in family strife is the last thing I wanna do. And no, telling me I better keep an eye on everyone in case something bad happens doesn't improve my mood."

“Yeesh...I'll find another time to be considerate then..."

“Please do," he added, apologetic, “I just wanna focus on the new house. Can I get a moment's relief from worrying about something or other?"

Cynthia huffed ( brothers!), but she relented. Truthfully, she wanted to avoid nastiness as much as he did. There was no time to keep arguing anyway, as Michael's car diverged off of the main road, towards a junction leading to their future home.

“We're close now," he said, watching the various houses pass them by. Broad-foundation one- and two-storey structures, some covered in timber panelling with clean coats of paint...others bearing exposed cinder block but keeping an air of respectable maintenance about them. It wasn't a well-to-do middle-class community, but there were signs of wealth to spare — luxuries not often seen in their old neighbours' midst. Cynthia was just as keen to see the variety on display as her brother. The well-kept exteriors reminding her that this place...this town was a step up in quality. Hope we make a good impression, she murmured, fretting over their background. The Eriksson's weren't from poor stock — quite the opposite in fact! A significant number of their ancestors (grandparents and great-grandparents) owned expansive properties across the States. That meant nothing to the gruelling march of time, however, and what riches there might have been in past coffers had since dissipated.

“Which one is ours?"

“Up here," he said, pointing, “somewhere. Could you read me the number? Wanna check we have the right place."

“Uhh...yeah...got it... 13 Oak Drive."

Thirteen? “Ah, I see we get the unlucky one."

Cynthia sniggered at her brother's sarcasm. “What a stroke of luck."

“Hey, as long as this neighbourhood's better than the last one we shouldn't have any problems."

“I'll drink to that — not that I'm drinking underage that is..."

Michael had his turn to laugh, and he was grateful for it. “Close call sis. Don't add to mom's worries eh?"

“Don't you fret, my mouth's shut."

“Thirteen...thirteen...I think it's up here." Michael guided his vehicle along the right path, nearing their destination. Couple more turns to go. Oak Drive, nice and sturdy-sounding, he mused.

“These aren't bad houses," Cynthia exclaimed, scanning the scenery with precision.

“Right? I'm surprised too. Mom lucked out."

“What was the deal she made anyway? 'cause I didn't think anyone wanted to fork out the cash we got for our shitty duplex."

“Nah, see the house, and the people, was/were crummy — the land's worth a lot."

“Oh?"

“No seriously. Y'ever see the property tax on our old place?" He whistled. “Shit's absurd."

“So what is the land worth if it's not about the house?"

“Location...zoning or some shit. I don't know the specifics. The real estate company came to the neighbours and wooed them with low-ball offers. They tried the same with mom, but she was smarter than that. Held out for a price that more closely reflected the estimated value."

“Never put the neighbours down as...uh...the brightest of folks, so yeah I can see them going for what's on the table."

“Not mom though. Quite proud of her too. Realtors got desperate at just the right time for her to get what she wanted. Helluva gamble but here we are, one new home bought and paid for."

“Never knew her to take risks like that. You know we'd be fucked if the stars didn't align just right."

“I might be...embellishing the story somewhat..."

“Here we go again. Embellishing...hah!"

“She was tearing her hair out over the stress of it all. So super-calm, super-cool, risk-taking property mogul is not the most apt comparison. Deal took a month to set up, can't be good for your health — that sorta stress ruins people."

“So what you're actually saying it...mom's actually a superhero!"

“Err—?"

“Think about it. Carrying the burden of property negotiations, taking every opportunity to be by Donnie's side, all the while holding this family together — despite whatever troubles we've had!"

“Sure...that's exactly what I meant!" He let out a chuckle.

“Seeing as you want to give her a bit of support, why not tell her what I told you?"

“Good point." Mom deserves it, I sure as hell couldn't handle all that. It's the kinda stuff you'd sell your soul and who-knows-what else to be able to cope.

A slow turn left marked the end of their journey, fences flanking their vehicle. Pulling to the side of the road, they peered out at the house in front of them. “There," Michael announced, a sense of hopeful finality present in his measured voice, a sign he was prepared to move on from this dark chapter in his life.

“Cool, it isn't a shit-hole!"

“See what I mean? Plus money goes farther in small towns."

“I like the colour."

“Me too. Those trees make a nice canopy to keep the sun off our heads."

“Heard it can get quite warm in these parts."

“Mmm-hmm. You best watch yourself sleeping under too many sheets."

Cynthia kicked his leg from across the divide. “I don't do that anymore Mikey!"

“I know sis, it was only a temporary precaution. To keep the ghosts away."

Fuming, she took control of her breathing, exercising a stabilising rhythm. “This is revenge for that 'muddled' jab, isn't it?"

“You know it." Michael winked.

He began to pull in to the driveway, but his advance was blocked by his sister, who clamped her hand firm on the wheel, startling him. “No! Hold up!"

“What?"

“Mikey! You can't take the driveway...here...park on the kerb."

“Huh?"

“Do you want me to explain to you how the house was mom's big thing, not yours and ol' rusty's here..." She tapped the dashboard for effect.

“Sorry, yeah...we're not the guests of honour so let's leave the driveway clear."

“I don't mean it like that."

“I know. But I understand what you're saying. Feels like we'd be imposing too much on her. This whole thing is mom's idea after all."

She relinquished her hold on the controls. “Glad you see it that way."

Once parked, they disembarked. Seizing on the absence of their parents for several minutes the pair stretched and yawned, the eagerness to explore their home unyielding.

Now to wait for the others...