Dead Jack and the Soul Catcher: (Volume 2)

by James Aquilone

  “Here at Lucifer Corp., we care about one thing only,” Eric said. “Profits.”

  “Just like every other corporation,” I shot back.

  “Yes, but unlike every other corporation, we don’t pretend to care about our customers or employees.”

  “Well, that’s refreshing,” Zara said.

  The elevator came to a stop, the doors slid open, and the stench of brimstone hit us.

  “You should air this place out.” I waved the air in front of my nose as we stepped off the elevator.

  It looked like any other corporate office, everything made of shiny, smooth wood―the floors, the walls, the chairs, the desks. Giant murals of the war between good and bad angels in heaven surrounded the reception area. Lucifer, of course, led the bad angels.

  The receptionist, an ancient, shriveled demon in red lipstick, said, “He’s expecting you.”

  We crossed the room and entered Lucifer’s office. More of the same Art Deco crap here, the 1930s version of luxury and modernity. Lucifer stood from behind a lacquer desk almost as wide as the office. He wore a pink golf shirt and duffer cap. I didn’t even know Pandemonium had a golf course. Above him hung a painting of a winged angel plummeting from heaven. He barely resembled the painting. In person, Lucifer was much less majestic.

  “What a beautiful crew you are.” Lucifer smiled. He looked mostly human, though his skin had the dusty red of bricks, and the lines of his face ran too well defined―chiseled and sharp. “I don’t mean that aesthetically. Because some of you are downright gruesome. I’ll let you figure out who, but I’m sure you already know. I say ‘beautiful’ because you are the promise of this heavenly hell. Where else could you see a zombie, a skeleton, a korrigan, and a witch/pixie banding together? It’s a fookin melting pot, Pandemonium is. A paradise. One I don’t intend to lose.”

  “We were promised refreshments,” I said.

  “Of course, Jack! A man worthy of my own appetites. Get the dick some Devil Boy. The good shit. Not the watered-down crap we sell to the public. You like dust? I have a new strain. Third Circle. I think you’re going to like it. Can I get anyone else anything?”

  “They’re good,” I said. “We’d like to hear your offer, so we can get out of here.”

  He nodded at his henchman Eric, who then left the office.

  “Take my card, Jack. If you ever need dust, give me a call.” Lucifer snapped his fingers and a business card appeared in his hand, which he offered to me. I slipped it in my front pocket without giving it a glance.

  Eric returned with a pint of Devil Boy in a glass bottle and a baggie of bright yellow dust on a silver tray.

  I took the Devil Boy and put the dust away. I sipped the formaldehyde, a burn of golden fire slid down my throat.

  “Good stuff.” I held up the bottle to Lucifer.

  “You know quality, Jack. Wait till you try the dust. It’s going to blow your mind. I’m expanding my business. We’re going to have flavored hellfire sticks―apple, cinnamon, blood, kraken―injectable fairy dust, a franchise of pleasure palaces. It’s going to be the bee’s knees.”

  “Just more ways to sin,” Zara said.

  “No. There is no sin in Pandemonium. ‘Do what thou wilt’ is the law of the land. Wallflower knows what I’m talking about.”

  Wally lowered his head.

  “And what does that have to do with us?” I asked. “Did you bring us here to pitch a new line of unicorn steaks?”

  “I want to maintain the status quo. I have big plans for Pandemonium, and I don’t want those wet blanket Children of Thule putting the kibosh on them. Garry’s fun-hating pals want to make Pandemonium like the Other World. They want to bring sin into our world. That’s not going to happen in our little Garden of Eden. Not while I’m around.”

  “I still don’t see what that has to do with us.”

  “Do you know what you have in your purse, Jack?”

  “It’s a satchel.” I laid my hand over the bag. “And he’s just a lump of rubber.”

  Lucifer shook his head. “No. No. No. Don’t be a fookin idiot. If he was just a lump of rubber, why would you be carrying him around everywhere you go? Why would you protect that lump of rubber with your life?”

  “Habit.”

  Lucifer laughed. “To be honest, I’m happy you have such strong feelings for the homunculus. Otherwise, he may have fallen into the wrong hands, and that would be valde malus.”

  “Why would that be?” Zara said.

  “Because your friend is walking around with an A-bomb in his… satchel?” Lucifer said. “Actually that’s not accurate. It’s more like a thousand A-bombs. After your little battle on Skull Mountain, that lump of rubber is now a living, breathing Jupiter Stone. You didn’t destroy it. You can’t destroy it. That homunculus of yours absorbed its power. He’s a remarkable creature. You should have been nicer to him.”

  I looked at Zara. She looked at me. We didn’t know what happened to the Jupiter Stone, to be honest, and if Oswald really is indestructible, maybe he did absorb the stone’s power. It would explain why he felt heavier.

  “The only thing I want to do is remove the stone and give you back your friend,” Lucifer said. “If you don’t separate him from it, he’s never going to wake up. And sooner or later, you’re going to blow up Pandemonium and everyone in it.”

  “Would that be so bad?” I asked.

  “I’ll have to keep my eye on you, Jack. You have a dark soul. Oh, wait, I forgot. You don’t have a soul.”

  “Got any spare souls?”

  “Looking to make a deal? Let me fix up Oswald and I’ll give you the best one I have.”

  “And you get the Jupiter Stone? For what?”

  “I’ve always wanted one of my very own. I’ve heard they can come in handy.”

  “I’m supposed to trust Lucifer? You don’t have the best reputation.”

  “Don’t believe the newspapers. If the Nazis get their hands on Oswald, your life and everyone else’s is going to be much worse.”

  “Worse than you ruling it?”

  “Rule it?” He laughed, a bit more maniacally than I cared for. “Why would I want to do that? There’s no fun in ruling. Too much responsibility. I prefer chaos. Shit blowing up. People freaking out. Every day you don’t know what to expect. It’s called Pandemonium for a reason. Those damn Nazis want to rule it. They want to drain all the color out of this place. So boring. I want to keep Pandemonium true to its name. Danger around every corner and dust in everyone’s pocket.”

  “What makes you think they’re even after Oswald?”

  “I heard a rumor―maybe Garry can back me up here―but I heard they want to use the Jupiter Stone inside Oswald to power a soul sucker, who will then suck up all the souls on Pandemonium, even the living ones.”

  “Garry?” I said.

  The skeleton stared at the floor. “Well, actually, I heard that they were trying to increase the soul suckers’ power, but they were never able to do it. I never heard them talk about Oswald or a Jupiter Stone.”

  “Could Oswald power a soul sucker?” I asked Lucifer.

  “I think Oswald could do just about anything he wanted,” he said.

  “Except wake up.”

  “Why don’t you just go and wipe out the Nazis yourself?” Zara asked. “You don’t need Oswald or a Jupiter Stone.”

  “The bastards have drawn an impenetrable magical circle around their camp. No demon or shadow man can get inside. They’re not pushovers. They have a lot of power, and they’re coming for you. When we remove the Jupiter Stone from Oswald, the Nazis will have no reason to bother with you four. You’ll be safe.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Zara said. “If you remove the stone, Oswald could die.”

  “He’s already dead,” Lucifer said.

  I’d heard all I needed to hear. “I respectfully decline your offer,” I said. “I’ll keep the dust, though.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Sure as hell.”
>
  Lucifer dropped down on his leather office chair. He adjusted his cap, and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry to hear that, Jack. I really am. You might not believe it, but I am a man of my word. And as I promised, you’re free to leave.”

  We didn’t move.

  “Go,” Lucifer said. “I’m already late for my golf game.”

  The well-dressed demon led us back to the elevator.

  We got in. He did not. When the doors closed, I said, “Maybe I had Lucifer wrong. I didn’t think he’d ever let us go.”

  “Get your head out of your arse,” Zara said. “He’s not going to let us go.” She already had her hammer in her hand.

  CHAPTER 11: Take This Job and Shove It

  The elevator descended faster than Lucifer from God’s grace. I held on to the wall to keep from falling. Screams or the sound of machinery came from passing floors. Strange lights glowed on the other side of the door.

  “Is it just me, or is this speeding elevator taking a really long time to get to the lobby?” Garry asked.

  “I don’t think we’re going to the lobby,” said Zara.

  “More like the Ninth Circle of Lucifer Corp.,” Wally said.

  “We must be halfway to the Other World by now,” Garry said. “Maybe the elevator is broken.”

  “No,” Zara said. “Lucifer has plans for us.”

  The elevator screeched to a stop and we all took a tumble.

  “Jack, I had no idea the detecting business was so dangerous,” Garry said as he used my body to pull himself up.

  “I haven’t noticed,” I said.

  Zara tried hitting the buttons, but the elevator didn’t move.

  “I think we’re stuck,” Garry said.

  Ding!

  The elevator doors slid open. A stench worse than the swamps of the Red Garden hit us, a smell full of damp and vapors. An animal smell, like the reptile house at the zoo.

  The light from the elevator illuminated a small patch of dirt-covered ground beyond the door. It was quiet, except for the sound of dripping water in the distance.

  “Are we just going to stand here?” Garry asked.

  At that moment, something long and black shot out of the dark. An arm, a tentacle, a whip. I had no idea. It extended into the elevator, thin and hairy, wrapped itself around Garry, and yanked him into the blackness. It happened so fast he didn’t even scream.

  “To answer Garry’s question,” I said, “I don’t think we should just stand here.”

  “After you, corpse,” Zara said.

  “Despite what some may say, I am a gentleman.” I extended my arm. “Ladies first.”

  “How sweet. A gentleman and a coward.”

  “Since I know you’re joking, I’ll take that in the spirit in which it was meant.”

  Zara stepped onto the dirt. She looked left and then right. “I can’t see anything, but, boy, does it stink.”

  “I have a lighter,” I said, “but, Wally, do you have anything better?”

  The wizard cupped his hands and twisted them in opposite directions. A glowing orb appeared between his palms, the light bathing his leathery face in pale blue. I followed him out of the elevator.

  The stench worsened out here. It burned my nostrils and watered my eyes. The air hung over my face like a warm, damp rag.

  “I think I found something.” Zara bent down and held up a bone. “Do you think it’s Garry’s?”

  I took the bone, possibly an ulna, held it up to my nostrils. “Smells like fresh milk. It’s Garry all right.”

  “I guess we’re going in the right direction.”

  I put the bone in my satchel.

  We crept forward. Vague shapes appeared in the distance―jagged, sharp forms, possibly stone. We stuck to a narrow rut, but numerous passageways snaked off into the distance.

  “Do you think we’re still in the tower?” Wally asked.

  “No,” I said. “I think we’re deep underneath it.”

  I almost tripped over Garry’s foot. “Found another one,” I said, and picked up the bones.

  “I think we’ve been left a trail,” Zara said.

  “Is Garry really that important?” Wally asked.

  I thought about it.

  “Isn’t he your friend?” Zara said.

  “He’s more of an acquaintance, a former co-worker. We haven’t been in touch for a while. It’s not like we exchange Christmas cards.”

  “Keep moving.”

  Tik-tik-tik. Something chirped, most likely the large, horrible monster that lived under Lucifer Tower. The sound bounced off the rock formations, making it impossible to locate its source.

  Wally held up his orb of lighting.

  I looked in all directions, but didn’t see a thing move.

  The chirping faded, and we continued on, more cautiously.

  I found Garry’s other foot.

  We crested a hill and found a wide clearing below. Torches bathed the area in an orange-red glow. As we crept down the slope, I noticed a skull sitting atop a pile of bones at the far end of a large pit. A disheveled wig sat atop the skull.

  “How does my hair look? I can’t fix it.”

  “Who did this to you, Garry?” I asked.

  “I couldn’t see. It was dark. But whatever it was it stunk.”

  Tik-tik-tik.

  The sound grew stronger.

  Zara, Wally and me stood back to back to back, searching the sunken chamber.

  Tik-tik-tik.

  A sound like the creaking of leather and the whooshing of silk surrounded us.

  Tik-tik-tik.

  An enormous spider emerged from the shadows directly above Garry. Eight red eyes flickered open. Its slime-covered fangs clicked together, making that tik-tik-tik sound.

  We all backed up to the other end of the pit.

  The creature eased its considerable bulk to the ground. Furry, many-jointed legs moved in absolute silence as it padded toward us.

  Zara held up her hammer, Wally held up his orb, and I fixed my fedora.

  The spider stopped in the middle of the pit, its bloated underbelly resting on the ground.

  “Hi,” I said. “How are you?”

  Three ropes of silk shot out of from the beast’s spinnerets, each of which wrapped around our bodies. In a flash, the arachnid had us strung up like sides of beef in a meat locker.

  “He wants me to eat you,” the spider hissed in a voice like boiling water. “Suck up your flesh and toss your rotten bones in the heap. He tosses all his garbage down here for good old Syd to take care of. Did you trust the Devil?”

  “A devil,” I said.

  “Pardon?”

  “He’s not the Devil, just a devil, lowercase. Technically, there are three Dukes of Hell―Satan, Lucifer, and Beelzebub.”

  “I didn’t know I had an expert demonologist in my midst.” The spider raised its two front legs and brought them together in a slow clap.

  “It’s pretty common knowledge.”

  “Is it? Then you’d know that Satan, Lucifer, and Beelzebub are actually three aspects of the same being, collectively known as the Devil, a sort of Unholy Trinity of God.”

  “Are you saying they’re the same person?”

  The giant spider let out a sigh, like he had to explain this many times before. “They are three persons in one being.”

  “Like a hydra?”

  “If the hydra’s heads were separate entities.”

  “That makes no sense at all.”

  “Think of it like this: The Devil is one, undivided ‘thing’ but three ‘people.’ Or, they are not each other. They are all the Devil.”

  “So there are three Devils?”

  “No. There is only one Devil, uppercase.”

  “You’re making my head hurt. If there’s only one Devil, why aren’t Satan and Beezelbub here in Pandemonium?”

  “You’d have to ask him that.”

  “All I know is that they’re all rotten.”

  “Tell me, then, if you’re su
ch an expert on demons, how did you end up in Syd’s lair?”

  “I admit mistakes were made.”

  The spider laughed, a chittering laugh. I had never made a spider laugh before, so I felt a sense of pride.

  “I too have made mistakes. Boy, have I screwed the pooch. My mother always told me not to rush into things. You get hired at Lucifer Corp., you think you’re set for life. You have a career, not just a job. I’ve given Lucifer Corp. the best years of my life and what do I have to show for it? I thought I’d work my way to the top, but fifty years later, and I’m still in the sub-sub-sub-sub-basement. Where’s the opportunity? The upward mobility?”

  “Stuck in a dead-end job?” Zara asked.

  “Lucifer Corp. is a shite hole. What do you think I got for my fiftieth anniversary? That’s a lot of beings eaten.”

  “A watch?” I said.

  “A watch? I would have cherished a watch. No. I got a spittoon. Not even a nice one.”

  “Do you spit a lot?”

  “I do now. At least get some use out of the fookin thing. But what should I expect from that slimy bastard upstairs? Oh, he took on God and the Archangel Michael. Big deal. They tossed him from heaven like a snot rag. I asked for an espresso machine. I heard they have three of them upstairs for the ‘executives’”―he made air quotes with two of his legs. “I’ve been eating his enemies for five decades. And believe me, they don’t taste like coq au vin. He says it’s not in the budget. Budget? The piece of shite owns Pandemonium. Five grams of dust would pay for the espresso machine.” The spider let out a sigh, shook its oblong head, and continued its rant. “Do you see that mold buildup?” The spider pointed at one of the black pipes that crisscrossed the ceiling. Fat drops of water fell from the shiny surface. “That’s not there for some scary atmosphere. That’s an actual leak coming from upstairs. Do you know how many times I’ve requested repairs?”

  “One hundred times,” I said.

  “Don’t get crazy. Twenty-five times. That’s more than enough.”

  “You should go into business for yourself. Freelance. I’m sure there’s plenty of work in Pandemonium for a giant spider with your experience.”

  “Don’t think I haven’t given that some thought. I’m crazy to stay here. I’ve tried before to escape, but there’s magic blocking the way.”