Myths and Gargoyles by Jamie Hawke (interesting books to read in english txt) 📕

The screen read: You are being given these powers. Do you accept? Yes/No.

I stared for a long moment, completely caught off-guard by this. My girlfriend and her friends had just killed my aunt. Now they were trying to kill me, as far as I knew, all to find something—I had no idea what. And, apparently, my aunt had some sort of power or magic that was becoming mine? Maybe I could’ve selected no, abandoned whatever this was and run off to join my parents on their road trip around America… but that sounded worse than anything a bunch of demons could throw at me. Sorry, but as I said, I had just moved out for the first time. That wasn’t about to happen.

Plus, I already had something, whether it was powers or magic or whatever. My mom and the doctor had thought I was crazy, but part of me never accepted that. So, it’s not like I was completely floored to find out that someone else in the family had powers as well. I clicked “Yes,” and then watched as random runes scrolled across the screen, followed by: Level 1 Witch.

I frowned at that. Witch? Could a man be a witch? I scratched my head, trying to remember if Harry Potter had been called a witch or something else, but whatever. I could think of myself as a sorcerer or mage, if this was for real and anyone asked. Oh, wizard! That’s what he’d been called, I thought, and laughed at myself for getting lost in such details, as I often did.

The idea of talking about whatever this was with someone made me freak out for a brief moment, until the screen changed again and pulled my attention back to it. Apparently, the screen was telling me my stats:

Level 1 Witch

Statistics

Strength: 4

Defense:4

Speed: 5

Luck: 7

Charisma: 6

Mana: 300

Current Spells

Passive: Situational Alchemy, AKA “Transmutation”

The best I could figure, my sort of alchemist powers had converted the magic into a digestible format for my mind. Instead of simply taking on my aunt’s magic, I’d converted it into a way of leveling up. Gamified it, you could say. While maybe she’d also started as a beginner and gotten stronger, been able to use more spells as she become more experienced, I would actually have a screen tracking my progress and telling me when I leveled up and all that.

Badass!

Maybe I’d call myself an Alchemist Witch, or something along those lines. I was starting to get into the idea, scrolling down the screen by touching it in mid-air although I couldn’t feel it, exactly—it was more like using virtual reality controls, where it was clear when I was touching it, but there was no actual resistance—when an explosion sounded on the other side of the door.

Shit, I’d nearly forgotten about Steph and the demons. I was hoping my new powers would give me the ability to throw fire balls or something, but so far it looked pretty much useless, other than the stats on the screen making me feel a bit insecure about my strength. I had to be more than a four in that regard!

Another explosion, and smoke came through a crack at the top of the wall. Now I heard their hooting and hollering. They weren’t far from getting in, which meant I had to figure this out, pronto.

Whatever they were looking for, my aunt either had to have known about, or been searching for it as well. Right?

“Jericho, are you in there?” Steph said, and a new hope had been shattered—a hope that this was some fake version of the girl I had been dating. Most people called me Jay or simply J, and didn’t even know my full name. She liked it, though, and preferred to use it, especially during sex. Her voice was smooth like caramel when she added, “I want you. Come on out.”

All it took was a glance down at my aunt’s corpse for me to shake my head and say, “Not a chance.”

“Dammit, let us in or we’ll fucking rip your head off!”

Shit, that escalated fast.

Another glance, and I shuddered, looking around for a way out. I tried using the magic, pulling up the screen again, but nothing worked. Figuring out how to use it would take time. A look back at my aunt, and I realized her hand was still out from when she had been reaching for the wall. Or… not reaching, but pointing!

I went to the wall, focused, and put up my hand. This time, while my hand didn’t glow and open the wall magically, the screen returned. It showed an option for “open,” so I selected it and waited.

Sure enough, my hand glowed and a door appeared. It opened inward, clunking my aunt in the head. I cringed, gently moved her out of the way as I whispered an apology, and then made my way up the steps.

73

This time, I was too freaked to bother caring about how far the stairs went or how exhausted I was. I pushed on, excitement starting to take over. As horrible as this situation was, I not only had magic, but it seemed I’d had some form of it all along. Being told you’re crazy, or have a learning disability, only to find out it’s not that at all, but a subtle form of magic? Brilliant.

Steph’s voice came from below, more indistinct the farther I went, and then there was banging, smashing. Crashing.

I was at the end of the stairs, though, and found a wooden end to the staircase. Pushing up on it, I found that it opened up onto the roof. While I failed to see how this would be the safest place, there was no denying that my aunt had been telling me to go this way.

If not for the sounds of destruction below, this would have been the most beautiful, peaceful spot in the whole city. My aunt had the place decorated with a rooftop garden complete with a