THE BELTHAZOR CHRONICLES
The taking of Belthazor
"Congratulations, Turner!"
"Well done!"
Strange hands patted Benjamin's shoulders and slapped his back while Bainwright pumped his arm with enthusiasm. "Always knew you had it in you, Ben, to get us that extra seat in the Assembly. Glad to see you proved me right."
"Thank you, Mr. Bainwright." Benjamin grinned at the compliment from his boss and party associate.
It was 1888; four years after he first met Elizabeth, and tonight was the final election night. Five minutes ago the polling results had been announced: the voters of District Nine in San Francisco had elected Benjamin Turner to be their representative in the California State Assembly.
Bainwright let go of Benjamin's hand and pressed his pince-nez tighter onto his nose. "Where's that pretty wife of yours?" he asked while scanning the room. "She deserves some of the credit, methinks."
"Yes sir, she does," Benjamin agreed. Having a beautiful, loving wife at their side had never hurt a politician yet. He chuckled. Politician. He guessed he really should start thinking about himself in such terms after today.
"Elizabeth was not feeling so well today," he continued. "She stayed home."
"Shame," Bainwright grumbled. "Tonight is your night of triumph. Anyway, wish her well for me. And tell her bravo for marrying such a promising young man."
"I will, sir," Benjamin nodded. Then the others in the room swept him away. It seemed that every single person present wanted to shake his hand, wish him good luck, and slap his back some more until he winced.
As soon as Benjamin saw his chance to leave without being noticed, he slipped from the room. Bainwright was right about one thing: today's victory should be shared with his wife.
Benjamin hurried through the streets, wanting to be home as soon as possible to tell her the good news. "Lizzie! Lizzie!" he shouted the moment he opened the front door. "I did it! We did it! We won."
The house was dark. Not a single lamp had been lit and the victorious smile faded from Benjamin's face. "Lizzie? Elizabeth?" Was she so ill that she had gone to bed early?
A small noise in the living room alerted him. He turned up the lamp and gasped at the sight of his son sitting in his playpen. The child's face lit up at the sight of his father. "Da?"
Benjamin reached into the pen and lifted his son. Two tiny arms wrapped themselves tight around his neck. "Da. Co' hun-gry."
"Where's mommy, Cole?" Benjamin murmured. He scanned the room.
A thump and a groan reached his ears. It came from upstairs. Fear struck his heart. What had happened to Lizzie? Had someone broken into the house and hurt her? A muscle jumped in his throat at the thought of some burglar laying his filthy hands on his wife.
Quickly, Benjamin set Cole back in the pen. The child uttered a mewl of protest and Benjamin ran a hand through his son's unruly curls. "Shh, my son. I'll be right back."
Taking three steps at a time, Benjamin ran up the stairs. Another moan came from the bedroom and his heart thudded in his chest with fear. Without thinking about the consequences, Benjamin threw open the door.
The sight that greeted him made his throat constrict and his heart stop.
Illuminated by the light of the stars outside the window, Elizabeth rested on her knees on top of the bed. Her lush, dark hair hung wild and unkempt about her face. Her green eyes appeared overlaid with a red glow. Her skirts were bunched around her hips and her bodice was lowered around her waist. Beneath her was a man. Benjamin had a fleeting impression of a mustached face contorted in pleasure. Or perhaps pain. Benjamin didn't wait to find out.
"No-" he croaked. His voice was the desolate voice of a man whose life just ended.
He whirled on his heels, raced back down the stairs and grabbed Cole from the living room before he stormed out of the door. He ignored Elizabeth's yell of dismay, her voice calling his name.
He ran through the dark streets. His feet pounded the pavement as fast as they could carry him. His son wailed in shock in his arms. Benjamin didn't pay attention to where he was going; he ran and ran. In his mind he kept seeing the tableau vivant in his bedroom, remembered that heart-stopping second when his world crumbled.
When Benjamin no longer had the breath to keep running, he found himself in a small park. Tears burned behind his eyes and he pulled his son close to his chest in search of comfort. How could Elizabeth do this to him? Didn't she know how much he loved her? Wasn't his love enough?
He sat down on a wooden bench and placed Cole on his knees. The boy's blue eyes gazed at his father's face from above teary cheeks. "Da?"
"It'll be fine, Cole. Everything'll be fine." Benjamin didn't believe a word he was saying.
"Benjamin." Elizabeth's voice startled him. It was cold, devoid of emotion and not at all the melodic timbre he remembered so well. "Give me the boy."
Benjamin jerked back to his feet, holding Cole tight. "No. You can have the house, the servants, the money. But you can't have Cole. I won't have my son grow up with-"
He never got to finish. She snatched the child from his arms.
"No!"
In the last few moments of his life, Benjamin Turner's world tilted upside down once more. The woman he had loved for four years, that he thought he knew so well, turned out to be someone else. Something else. Her eyes flashed blood red and despite his desire to protect his son, Benjamin took a step back. Blue fire streaked from her hands and hit him in the chest. A searing pain and then... nothing.
* * *
"Here," Elizabeth -Lilith- said. "You take care of him." She shoved a squirming Cole into Raynor's direction. "I've dealt with that brat long enough."
The boy opened his mouth and a loud wail escaped him. His face shifted and red patches showed across his skull. Small fists beat at the air.
"Hush, hush, little one," Raynor said. He took the boy from Lilith and put as much soothing noises into his voice as he could. "It's all right. You're home now. But you're too young to control your demonic form. So calm down."
Cole relaxed enough to stare at his new caretaker. He morphed back into the little blue-eyed, dark-haired son of Benjamin Turner. "Where Da?"
"Your dad is gone, Belthazor." Raynor glared over the boy's head at his mother. "This was not what we agreed on. The boy has barely formed any intellect. I had not planned on bringing him here for at least another year."
Lilith shrugged and her curls danced. "Sorry," she muttered although her tone held no regret.
Raynor sighed. He could not truly fault the succubus; she had suppressed her true nature for a long time. It shouldn't come as a surprise that she gave in to the strong pull of her instincts. "Tell me that at least you got his soul?" he asked.
"I did," Lilith replied. She dug into a pocket of her wide skirts and pulled out a small globe. It glowed softly when she held it up high. "Although I can't imagine what use you could possibly have for that human's essence." She tossed the globe to Raynor before she shimmered away.
The boy's eyes followed the ball as it sailed through the air until Raynor deftly plucked it from its path. He reached for it. "Co' want," he demanded.
Raynor chuckled. "Not now, Belthazor. Maybe later."
Cole squinted angrily and began to cry again. "Want!" he repeated with all the force his young vocal cords could muster.
Heavy footsteps behind them made Raynor turn around. The Source entered the chamber and cocked his head to study the child in Raynor's arms.
"That's him?" The Source said, full of disdain. "That wrinkly, loud little human is going to be my most powerful servant?" He barked a humorless laugh. "Raynor, I think your ambition has proven bigger than your skills this time. Put him down and step aside so I can clean up your mess."
Raynor set the boy down but instead of backing away, he held up a hand. "Wait. It takes time. Training. Education. But this," he waved at the boy, "is Belthazor. And when I'm done with him, you will see and believe."
"Hmph," the Source grunted. However, he lowered his hand and, with a swirl of his black robes, strode from the room.
Raynor let out a breath and stuffed the glowing soul of Benjamin Turner into a pocket of his long robe. "Let's go, Belthazor, and find you some food."
The boy took Raynor's hand and trotted after him.
Disclaimer: this story is based on the Spelling Television/WB Television Network series Charmed. All characters belong to their original creators. The story was written for entertainment only and no copyright infringement was intended.
The taking of Belthazor
"Congratulations, Turner!"
"Well done!"
Strange hands patted Benjamin's shoulders and slapped his back while Bainwright pumped his arm with enthusiasm. "Always knew you had it in you, Ben, to get us that extra seat in the Assembly. Glad to see you proved me right."
"Thank you, Mr. Bainwright." Benjamin grinned at the compliment from his boss and party associate.
It was 1888; four years after he first met Elizabeth, and tonight was the final election night. Five minutes ago the polling results had been announced: the voters of District Nine in San Francisco had elected Benjamin Turner to be their representative in the California State Assembly.
Bainwright let go of Benjamin's hand and pressed his pince-nez tighter onto his nose. "Where's that pretty wife of yours?" he asked while scanning the room. "She deserves some of the credit, methinks."
"Yes sir, she does," Benjamin agreed. Having a beautiful, loving wife at their side had never hurt a politician yet. He chuckled. Politician. He guessed he really should start thinking about himself in such terms after today.
"Elizabeth was not feeling so well today," he continued. "She stayed home."
"Shame," Bainwright grumbled. "Tonight is your night of triumph. Anyway, wish her well for me. And tell her bravo for marrying such a promising young man."
"I will, sir," Benjamin nodded. Then the others in the room swept him away. It seemed that every single person present wanted to shake his hand, wish him good luck, and slap his back some more until he winced.
As soon as Benjamin saw his chance to leave without being noticed, he slipped from the room. Bainwright was right about one thing: today's victory should be shared with his wife.
Benjamin hurried through the streets, wanting to be home as soon as possible to tell her the good news. "Lizzie! Lizzie!" he shouted the moment he opened the front door. "I did it! We did it! We won."
The house was dark. Not a single lamp had been lit and the victorious smile faded from Benjamin's face. "Lizzie? Elizabeth?" Was she so ill that she had gone to bed early?
A small noise in the living room alerted him. He turned up the lamp and gasped at the sight of his son sitting in his playpen. The child's face lit up at the sight of his father. "Da?"
Benjamin reached into the pen and lifted his son. Two tiny arms wrapped themselves tight around his neck. "Da. Co' hun-gry."
"Where's mommy, Cole?" Benjamin murmured. He scanned the room.
A thump and a groan reached his ears. It came from upstairs. Fear struck his heart. What had happened to Lizzie? Had someone broken into the house and hurt her? A muscle jumped in his throat at the thought of some burglar laying his filthy hands on his wife.
Quickly, Benjamin set Cole back in the pen. The child uttered a mewl of protest and Benjamin ran a hand through his son's unruly curls. "Shh, my son. I'll be right back."
Taking three steps at a time, Benjamin ran up the stairs. Another moan came from the bedroom and his heart thudded in his chest with fear. Without thinking about the consequences, Benjamin threw open the door.
The sight that greeted him made his throat constrict and his heart stop.
Illuminated by the light of the stars outside the window, Elizabeth rested on her knees on top of the bed. Her lush, dark hair hung wild and unkempt about her face. Her green eyes appeared overlaid with a red glow. Her skirts were bunched around her hips and her bodice was lowered around her waist. Beneath her was a man. Benjamin had a fleeting impression of a mustached face contorted in pleasure. Or perhaps pain. Benjamin didn't wait to find out.
"No-" he croaked. His voice was the desolate voice of a man whose life just ended.
He whirled on his heels, raced back down the stairs and grabbed Cole from the living room before he stormed out of the door. He ignored Elizabeth's yell of dismay, her voice calling his name.
He ran through the dark streets. His feet pounded the pavement as fast as they could carry him. His son wailed in shock in his arms. Benjamin didn't pay attention to where he was going; he ran and ran. In his mind he kept seeing the tableau vivant in his bedroom, remembered that heart-stopping second when his world crumbled.
When Benjamin no longer had the breath to keep running, he found himself in a small park. Tears burned behind his eyes and he pulled his son close to his chest in search of comfort. How could Elizabeth do this to him? Didn't she know how much he loved her? Wasn't his love enough?
He sat down on a wooden bench and placed Cole on his knees. The boy's blue eyes gazed at his father's face from above teary cheeks. "Da?"
"It'll be fine, Cole. Everything'll be fine." Benjamin didn't believe a word he was saying.
"Benjamin." Elizabeth's voice startled him. It was cold, devoid of emotion and not at all the melodic timbre he remembered so well. "Give me the boy."
Benjamin jerked back to his feet, holding Cole tight. "No. You can have the house, the servants, the money. But you can't have Cole. I won't have my son grow up with-"
He never got to finish. She snatched the child from his arms.
"No!"
In the last few moments of his life, Benjamin Turner's world tilted upside down once more. The woman he had loved for four years, that he thought he knew so well, turned out to be someone else. Something else. Her eyes flashed blood red and despite his desire to protect his son, Benjamin took a step back. Blue fire streaked from her hands and hit him in the chest. A searing pain and then... nothing.
* * *
"Here," Elizabeth -Lilith- said. "You take care of him." She shoved a squirming Cole into Raynor's direction. "I've dealt with that brat long enough."
The boy opened his mouth and a loud wail escaped him. His face shifted and red patches showed across his skull. Small fists beat at the air.
"Hush, hush, little one," Raynor said. He took the boy from Lilith and put as much soothing noises into his voice as he could. "It's all right. You're home now. But you're too young to control your demonic form. So calm down."
Cole relaxed enough to stare at his new caretaker. He morphed back into the little blue-eyed, dark-haired son of Benjamin Turner. "Where Da?"
"Your dad is gone, Belthazor." Raynor glared over the boy's head at his mother. "This was not what we agreed on. The boy has barely formed any intellect. I had not planned on bringing him here for at least another year."
Lilith shrugged and her curls danced. "Sorry," she muttered although her tone held no regret.
Raynor sighed. He could not truly fault the succubus; she had suppressed her true nature for a long time. It shouldn't come as a surprise that she gave in to the strong pull of her instincts. "Tell me that at least you got his soul?" he asked.
"I did," Lilith replied. She dug into a pocket of her wide skirts and pulled out a small globe. It glowed softly when she held it up high. "Although I can't imagine what use you could possibly have for that human's essence." She tossed the globe to Raynor before she shimmered away.
The boy's eyes followed the ball as it sailed through the air until Raynor deftly plucked it from its path. He reached for it. "Co' want," he demanded.
Raynor chuckled. "Not now, Belthazor. Maybe later."
Cole squinted angrily and began to cry again. "Want!" he repeated with all the force his young vocal cords could muster.
Heavy footsteps behind them made Raynor turn around. The Source entered the chamber and cocked his head to study the child in Raynor's arms.
"That's him?" The Source said, full of disdain. "That wrinkly, loud little human is going to be my most powerful servant?" He barked a humorless laugh. "Raynor, I think your ambition has proven bigger than your skills this time. Put him down and step aside so I can clean up your mess."
Raynor set the boy down but instead of backing away, he held up a hand. "Wait. It takes time. Training. Education. But this," he waved at the boy, "is Belthazor. And when I'm done with him, you will see and believe."
"Hmph," the Source grunted. However, he lowered his hand and, with a swirl of his black robes, strode from the room.
Raynor let out a breath and stuffed the glowing soul of Benjamin Turner into a pocket of his long robe. "Let's go, Belthazor, and find you some food."
The boy took Raynor's hand and trotted after him.
Disclaimer: this story is based on the Spelling Television/WB Television Network series Charmed. All characters belong to their original creators. The story was written for entertainment only and no copyright infringement was intended.