Alex Ellsworth had never felt so much fear as he felt then. Living a cushy pampered life. A silver spoon literally in his mouth, he had never worried or fret over anything. Not even when he began his research into the occult, as he always had felt superior in any situation he was in. Why wouldn't he, a white man in America. Everything was his tool, property, or toy. Why wouldn't those eldritch beings be the same.
But now, he knew true terror. And it was the face of someone he once called his property.
Jericho's face was taught and drawn across his bones, making his skin look translucent. His veins stood out extended from his eyes and mouth outward, down across his powerful body, glowing like fire. But what was most terrible was his eyes. Those once beautiful gem-like eyes were now a maleficent ruby flecked with Amethyst. The whites of his eyes gone. His pupils were Elliptical, and outlined with black.
Alex felt like he was staring into the eyes of Satan himself, and there was nothing he could do to have this evil give him mercy. He fell to his knees in his own puddle of piss and stared up at Jericho, his mouth wide and his eyes filled with tears. Trembling he bowed his head to Jericho and slammed his fists down onto the rocky ground, a mixture of fear and rage burning inside him.
'How could this have happened. I did everything for my Lord and he's forsaken me to die to this... This subhuman garbage negro. I'm not supposed to die like this. God Damnit! I'll fucking kill him before he kills me!'
Lifting his face from the floor, his own bodily fluid on his nose and forehead, be glared at Jericho. His hands clenched and began to stand up. Shaking in rage now, and psychopathic bravado. He sneered at Jericho, though he was significantly shorter than the slave his ego making he feel gigantic. He raised one fist and wound up for a punch. His teeth bared in anger. His eyes bright with confidence; And Jericho just watched, time for him slow. Almost as if it wasn't moving at all. All because of his heightened senses. His rage fueling his burst of godlike power, allowing him to go beyond the real of reality and into the one of Gods.
He could see tiny strings attached all over 'Candy Man' all of them colored and leading off into sky. The strings of fate he assumed. He looked over at Madame Toussaint and saw that she had none. She was dead now, it made sense she had no more fate. But Alex, he had many strings still. Though they were much skinnier than a big black one that was attached to him. The string of death, since it was most likely the option Jericho would choose. To destroy this pitiful excuse of a man in front of him.
-No... death isn't enough for a thing like him. He must be... erased.- Jericho decided.
Moving forward, time still at a standing still, he moved behind the little white man and began plucking ALL the strings. Moving "slowly" and methodically until he finally cut the largest one. He didn't know what would happen, but whatever it was would be payment enough for the sins of this poor pathetic being. Returning to his original position, time began to move normally and he stood stoically watching Alex, his body returning to a normal appearance as he did.
But there was no Alex. No 'Candy Man'. He wasn't even in the mansion anymore, or in the caves. He was standing on a grassy field surrounded by willow trees. The sky now gone, replaced by the full moon above. The night air brushing against his lips and cheeks pleasantly. Jericho understood then, that what had been Alex Ellsworth was removed from all existence. From time. His history, his accomplishments, anything and everything tied to him erased as well. Like a tumor that was excised from reality. There was no timeline, no universe, or dimension that house that man anymore. And it was all Jericho's doing.
Now that everything was done, all that rage was snuffed out like a fire. Leaving only a husk of a man. He had no friends, no family, and he was trapped in Mississippi as a black man. He felt lost, hopeless. Even with these powers, this strength. He was all alone. He sat down, and looked up at the vast expanse of stars and sighed. He laid down in the soft grass and closed his eyes, feeling exhaustion settle in him. He drifted off to a dreamless sleep beneath the sky.
But as he slept there were others who went to work. The woman who had spoken to the God was making her way to him as he slept. Heeding the call of prophecy.
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Meanwhile the being, it's name being 'Hiogon' watched from it's space. Having bore witness to the awakening of it's son, seeing how Jericho manipulated time, space, and matter all at once at the crux of his manhood. It was all delightful to the outer-God. It's flesh wriggling joyfully. It was the progenitor of everything called 'monster', people called it Echidna mainly. Or Uranus, Ouroboros. Many names over the centuries. Hiogon prided itself on being an experimenter. Every beast or creature ever was of it's machinations. And Jericho was it's most perfect creation, it's newest. A Dhampir. A mixture of two immortal beings coalesced into a being who would someday reign supreme. In honor of being the first, and would be the only, one of his kind Hiogon named him Adam. A reference to the biblical Adam and a surefire way to entice the other Gods into a fury. It was an experimenter as a second, firstly more than anything Hiogon was an instigator.
Pleased with its success the Elder-God rumbled proudly and closed it's millions of eyes. It was time to rest now, it felt no need to watch it's son anymore. It wouldn't interfere or help Jericho in any way. The next time they would meet would be in the far future, when the boy would be powerful enough to challenge even the oldest and most powerful beings in any and all existences. And on that day, he'd proudly watch as reality bent to Jericho's will.
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When Jericho finally woke, he noticed that the grass his head was pillowed in was replaced by something even softer, thicker, and warmer. He hesitated opening his eyes, until he felt fingers feeling his bare chest and arms. His eyes fluttering open he was amazed to see a tanned woman above him, unabashedly groping his strong body. It wasn't strange to him being a slave. But the circumstances and what had happened made it so it was surely this woman's intention to arrive here at this certain moment.
He cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow as if asking 'You finished?' The woman immediately withdrew her hands though seemingly unembarrassed and placed them on his shoulders. Her long black lacquered nails gently scratching his well-formed traps. Jericho spoke first. "Who are you?"
Over the next few moments Bastet, she introduced herself first, had explained the circumstances of her arrival. Her spending the better part of a week travelling around Mississippi slowly making her way to the property. Apparently she had been in contact with someone about Jericho and his progress. She explained that they had come to an agreement of sorts for the acquisition of the man, more or less helping him escape into Bastet's charge. But as she said, "Greed has always been and always been the downfall of man." Which was in response to a flash of rage in his eyes at the mention of his former master. But for whatever reason, she seemed not to know who Alex Ellsworth was even after saying his name.
"I've never heard of him. All I knew was that you were on a plantation. This is where it should've been, but as you can see..." She gestured around him in the empty plain. "It isn't here. Maybe Carnegie got confused on the way there but either way. I could smell you from a mile away." Confusion flashed in her hazel eyes. Her dark eyebrows drawing together. "It just doesn't make sense. Harriet would've mentioned getting you out early..."
Jericho sat quietly listening. He knew what had happened and her loss of memory involving Alex made it clear, that he had well truly erased him.
Lifting himself out of her lap a spell of dizziness hit him and Jericho nearly vomited. He felt so weak. So empty. Raising a hand to his eyes he let out a shaky breath. All the power in him from earlier had disappeared completely and left drained him mentally and physically. He felt like a shell. Wondering if this is what old men felt like after reaching the age where they couldn't even use the bathroom by themselves. Jericho felt a soft body close around his and he looked at Bastet. She was hugging him and resting her cheek on his back, her soft eyes looking up at him from her kneeling position. Understanding written in her gaze.
"It's okay now... I'm here." She kissed his back, and then leaned up then kissed his cheek. Jericho could only stare. "It must've been so hard for you. Being raised with those humans. Neglecting your needs. Your nature." She pulled herself so she sat in front of him and held his face in her hands. Somehow the feeling comforting his mess of a head. "But I'm here now, I'm here and I'll take care of you little one."
Jericho didn't have time to question her, the woman pulled him into a deep kiss and he felt his mind return to a slumber again.