Any Story LGBTQ+ Paranormal/Supernatural Romance

Chapter 2

“What . . . How . . . Why . . .” Looked as if complete sentences failed me and everyone else around me.

Ranko stood there shaking his head. Uncle Lal reached behind him, bracing himself against the wall. Grandma Sto grinned and gave grabby hands toward me. Two different drastic reactions from three different people.

“Someone speak.”

Their reactions screamed they knew what had taken place. They needed to fill me in. That was for sure.

“It’s finally happened.” Grandma Sto bounced so high she looked like she jumped up and down.

“It has not. Not to my brother.”

“Lana would roll over in her grave.”

“Why!”

I shouted, but all I got was Ranko’s eyes going wide and him standing up taller, glaring at Grandma Sto before he shifted his eyes to Uncle Lal.

“This has to be a mistake. He can try again, right?” Ranko said.

“Never heard of a second reading taking place, but I don’t see why it would hurt to do so.” Uncle Lal came over to me, gripped my shoulder, and placed me back in front of the Decision Mirror. “Take another gander, boy.”

“Not before you tell me why and why I got a skull instead of one of the other three images.”

“Nacal, bear with us. Trust me, you do not want that symbol. Trust me.”

“Could be the best thing for him.” Grandma Sto rubbed her hands together. “And his mother would agree with me, but let him try again. There have been cases that Incubbus has taken multiple stances in front of the Decision Mirror, but their results never changed. Once you receive your decision, it remains the same. By all means, let him see his future again.”

“And what is my future going to be?”

That’s what I wanted to know. Grandma Sto said I’d been claimed by the Underworld? What did that mean? How did one get claimed by another world? Why would they?

“Give it another go, Nacal, for me. For mom. I’m sure Grandma Sto means well, but I’m more than sure mom and dad would never wish this fate for you.”

“You will explain after I do this?”

“We will.” Uncle Lal patted my shoulder and stepped back.

The same grayish, ghostly skeleton I received earlier haunted the mirror. Grandma Sto released a high pitch shrilling squeal while Uncle Lal and Ranko. Both groaned. I stared at the figure, reaching out to trace the outline of the skull with my fingertip.

An electric charge formed between my skin and the smooth glass, warming the tip as creepy, crawly sensations rippled up my arm and over to my chest. Felt as if my heart paused for a second or two before expanding, filling with a sharp jolt that deflated so fast the air gushed from my lungs, leaving me feeling as if something major evacuated my life.

My knees bucked, forcing me backward until I slid down the side of the bed. Ranko rushed to my side, kneeling beside me.

“Are you okay?”

“Tell me what that means.” Couldn’t answer his question until I knew what the damn skull meant. It might explain what just happened to me.

“Let’s go to the living room and sit.”

Uncle Lal left first, heading right for the locked bookcase, opening it with his family key, extracting a huge old tattered leather book. One mom showed me on my fifteenth birthday. Told me it held all the Incubus history, but I was not to touch it until I completed my Journey Announcement. I’d not been worried about reading it. Been through all the history courses required at Incubus Private High and Aldine Incubus College. Ranko had set aside all Mom and Dad’s life insurance money and the settlement from the Incubus Headquarters explosion so he’d have enough to pay for my private education and college. I’d never been so grateful.

“Here, Ranko, you should show him.” Uncle Lal handed Ranko the book as he sat down on our royal blue love seat.

I took the spot beside him and waited for Grandma Sto to take her seat in the small recliner across from us, while Uncle Lal took the small antique chair Mom bought at some auction a year before she died. It stood out in our living room of velvet-cushioned furniture and a glass coffee table with wood-framed bookcases. The antique chair held brass and gold arm plates with a deep, rich brown frame and thin layers of felt-like cushions. Uncomfortable. Uncle Lal was the only one who sat in it.

“It’s two-thirds way through the book.” Grandma Sto jabbed her finger at the book. “Give it here. I’ll find it.”

“I’ve got it.” Ranko flipped the book open, flipping through the pages until he came to one about where Grandma Sto mentioned. He ran his finger down the yellowish, faded-out writing, tapping it. “Here it is.” He passed the book over to me. “Read this section.”

MOLOCH PROPHECY

Grayish White Mist covered Skull represents the chosen bride of son of Moloch.

Chosen bride of son of Moloch? Couldn’t be. The Journey Announcement should have told me whether I’d be a Time, Spirit, or Elements Incubus. Not make me someone’s bride. Wait a minute.

“I can’t be a bride. I’m not a woman.”

“In your case it would be a manbride.” A deep rough, booming voice said from the fireplace.