by N. P. Martin
“I’m fine,” I said. “Come on. Every minute we stand around here is another minute Scarlet gets tortured.”
When everyone was out and moving down the hallway, I did my best to close my busted front door, making a mental note to get it fixed later, if there was a later for me, for you never know with these missions. Something always surprised you, and if you weren’t careful, you could get your ticket punched.
With Hannah and the Hellbastards already heading down the stairs, I moved quickly down the hallway myself but stopped on the landing when a familiar voice called my name. I turned around to see Daisy standing there. “Don’t you ever sleep?” I said a little too fast, enough that she frowned and looked at me weird.
“Are you going to get Scarlet back from the bad man?”
I nodded. “That’s the plan, yeah.”
“Okay,” she said. “Be careful then.”
“I will. Do me a favor and lock your door till I get back.”
“I will.”
“Good girl.” I smiled at her, seeing Callie for a second, then turned and headed down the stairs to find Hannah and the Hellbastards waiting in the hall.
“What’s this, a group meeting?” I asked.
“Just waiting on you,” Hannah said. “You have the car keys. Also, Cracka just asked me if you and I had, and I quote, made the beast with two backs yet.”
A snigger left my mouth; involuntarily, I have to say. “Jesus, Cracka, where do you hear this shit?”
“TV boss,” Cracka said.
“We learn everything from TV,” Toast added.
Out at the car, I ushered the Hellbastards onto the back seat before closing the door. Then I opened the trunk and put the MP5K inside. I was about to close it when Hannah told me to wait. She went to her blue sedan and opened the back passenger door, leaning in and emerging a second later with a CA-415 rifle. “Where the hell did you get that?” I asked her. “Not from the precinct, anyway.”
“The former Hannah owned a lot of weapons,” she said. “This is one of them.”
“I hope you know how to use that thing.”
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
Once she placed the weapon in the trunk, I closed the lid and started walking to the front of the car, but stopped when I heard a galloping noise behind me, and then a deep, accented voice shouting, “Wait!”
I turned around to see Haedemus galloping down the street like a beast from somebody’s nightmare, half the skin on his body decayed so much you could see through to the flesh beneath, and in many parts, the bone. Despite his Hellish appearance, though, there was something almost comical about him as he bounded down the middle of the street toward the car. He was like that friend that everyone has, the one who makes you smile to yourself every time you see him. So I hear anyway. I’ve never had many friends myself. Friends can be dangerous in my world, and a liability. I steer clear of them, though they don’t always steer clear of me. “What are you doing here?” I asked Haedemus as soon as he pulled up.
“I—I—” He snorted a few times as he caught his breath. “I’m going with you to save Scarlet.”
“I see. So she strokes you a few times, and now you wanna be her knight in shining armor?”
“Don’t be a dick, Ethan. I didn’t see you complaining when I was your knight in shining armor at that vampire club.”
“That was Hannah.”
“Oh, so it’s Hannah now?” He looked past me and gave Hannah a look, who was standing by the front passenger door. “Taking your relationship to the next level, are we? Am I sensing a wedding soon?”
Hannah and I both snorted at the same time. “No,” I said. “No wedding.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Haedemus said. “You’ve been there, done that, got the pants.”
“It’s T-shirt.”
“What?”
“Never mind. You can come along.”
“Excellent,” he said, then bellowed, “Haedemus to save the day!”
“Jesus Christ,” I said. “Just follow us, Mighty Mouse.”
When I got into the car, the Hellbastards were thrashing around like a bunch of school kids about to go on their first trip. “Pipe down back there,” I said, glaring at them in the rear-view. “And don’t fuck up my seats.”
“Ready to rock?” Hannah asked me, a slight smile on her face like this whole thing was an adventure to her.
“Yeah,” I said, starting the engine. “Let’s do this.”
9
I would’ve preferred to wait until nightfall before assaulting The Brokedown Palace, but since we obviously couldn’t afford to wait that long, an early morning assault it would have to be.
As I drove slowly along the street, I glanced down at the front entrance to the club and saw that the security gate was closed across the front doors, which was as I expected. Carlito wouldn’t want anyone interrupting the party inside, even though that’s precisely what my motley crew and I were about to do.
I continued driving on up the street, intending to turn into the back alley, but as I did, I saw a guy standing near the corner about ten feet away, holding a submachine gun. When he spotted us, he recognized me immediately, and his eyes widened as he brought up his weapon.
“Shit,” I said, reaching across for my gun, but as soon as I did, Haedemus appeared in the alley as if from nowhere, charging at the gunman, the guy unaware that a hell beast was about to put an end to him.
Which Haedemus did, in gruesome fashion, spearing the guy in the side with his razor-sharp horn, lifting him high into the air as the guy screamed, before slamming him down onto the ground. At which point Haedemus used his two front hooves to bust the guy’s head open like a melon.
When he was done, Haedemus turned his head to look at me. His lips peeled back into some horsey version of a goofy grin before giving me a triumphant whinny. “Jesus Christ, he’s turning into Scooby-Doo.”
“Scooby-Doo, where are youuuu,” Cracka said from the back seat. “We love Scooby-Doo, boss.”
“That’s great, Cracka,” I said as I turned the car into the alleyway. “Thanks for sharing.”
“No problem, boss.”
I drove the car down the narrow alley as Haedemus walked on in front, before stopping outside the back entrance of the club where another of Carlito’s men lay on the filthy ground, blood pumping from a massive hole in his chest, a submachine gun lying on the ground beside him. A camera mounted above the door also looked down upon him, but I wasn’t worried about that. I’d already told Pan Demic and Artemis to disable the exterior cameras on the way here.
Haedemus came around and leaned his head down to look through the passenger side window at us. “I bet you’re glad I came now,” he said. “Being invisible in this world has its benefits, no?”
“Good job, Haedemus,” Hannah said.
“I’ll get you a carrot,” I said smirking.
Haedemus made a low neighing noise at me. “Piss off, Ethan. You always have to undermine me, don’t you? What is it, penis envy or something? Can’t handle the fact that my magnificent member dwarfs your puny human cock?”
Hannah laughed. So did the Hellbastards. “He got you there, boss,” Scroteface said.
“Mouthy horse is funny sometimes,” Cracka said laughing.
I turned and looked at them. “Y’all finished now?”
“You started it, carrot dick,” Haedemus said.
That cracked the Hellbastards up even more. Even Hannah put her hand over mouth as if to cover up the fact that she was laughing, though she wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
“Fuck the lot of you,” I said, smiling despite myself as I got out of the car, opening one of the back doors so the Hellbastards could all pile out as well.
“So how are we going to do this?” Haedemus asked as I popped the trunk and took out my MP5K, putting the strap over my shoulder before handing Hannah her rifle. “I was thinking you guys go in first, and then I run in when you’ve taken down all the bad guys, and save
Scarlet. What do you think?”
Hannah and I looked at each other. “Nice plan, but no,” I said. “I already have a plan.”
“Of course you do,” Haedemus said. “Let’s hear it then, Action Man.”
“I’m going to use Cracka to scout the place first,” I said. “I’ll see what he sees, so I’ll get an idea of how many are in there. Then I’ll have the power cut, and we’ll storm the place, taking down anybody that gets in our way, which will be all of them. Cracka?” I turned to see Cracka and the other Hellbastards playing with the dead guy, Reggie blowing dense clouds of marijuana smoke over the guy’s face, thinking it was hilarious. “Leave the fucking dead guy alone. Have some discipline for once.” The Hellbastards all stopped their laughing and stood to attention. “You wanted a mission like the old days, here it is. Now stop fucking around. Cracka, get your tiny ass over here.”
“I’m here, boss,” Cracka said as he stood by me.
I pointed to an air vent set into the wall about ten feet up. “You see that vent up there?”
“Yeah.”
“Get your ass into it and check out the inside of the club. And keep your mind clear if you can, I need to see through your eyes. You got it?”
“Yeah, boss. Keep mind clear. Got it.”
“Off you go.”
The little demon jumped to it, using his claws to climb the wall as deftly as a spider, ripping off the cover to the air vent before climbing inside the small hole.
When he was inside, I crouched down and leaned my back against the car before closing my eyes and whispering a few precisely combined syllables that functioned as a gateway into Cracka’s mind first of all—which let me tell you, isn’t a pretty place, resembling an R-rated episode of The Muppet Show…in Hell—before I locked onto his vision.
He was crawling through the air vents, but despite the darkness, he could still see, his sight having a greenish tinge to it like a night vision camera. Soon, he exited one of the air vents and jumped down onto the floor. From his surroundings, I could tell he was in the kitchens, and I told him to go through the door and follow the hallway, turning right down another hall before going through an entry into the main club.
Before he even got there, I could hear the commotion through his sensitive ears. Men cheering and shouting, occasionally erupting into wild applause fueled by bloodlust, like the crowd at a boxing match when one of the fighters lands a damaging blow.
When Cracka made it out into the club, all I saw through his eyes was a sea of bodies covering the whole dance floor. Men with guns in their hands. Men with knives and swords and clubs and even a cattle prod. “Get to the other side,” I told Cracka. “Get up high so I can see the stage.”
Cracka ran at speed along the edge of the sea of bodies, before finding a foothold in the wall and climbing up toward the ceiling, eventually coming to rest on one of the lighting rigs, ensuring I now had a clear view of the proceedings.
Down below, there must’ve been two dozen people, most of them men, but a few women as well who sat at a table with drinks in their hands as they enjoyed the show. On the stage, not strapped to a chair as I expected, but hanging naked from a rope bound around her wrists and tied to one of the lighting rigs above her, was Scarlet. Lit up by a spotlight, she looked barely conscious. Her body was covered in blood from head to toe, oozing from multiple cuts and stab wounds. She had lost so much blood it was pooling around her feet. All over the stage were bloody footprints where people had walked in the crimson fluid, tramping it everywhere.
Standing near Scarlet was Carlito, stripped to the waist, wearing only a pair of bloodstained white pants. At the other side of Scarlet stood a man in a dark blue tracksuit, his fingers adorned with gold rings. He was standing facing Scarlet, swaying back and forth like a fighter facing a punching bag. Through Cracka’s eyes, I watched as the guy drew back his right hand and then fired it with all his might into Scarlet’s face, spraying Carlito with blood as her head snapped around from the sheer force of the blow.
The crowd went silent for a second as Carlito wiped the blood from his face and then licked his hand. A huge cheer erupted, and the guy with the gold rings turned to the crowd and shook his fist at them before getting down off the stage, people slapping him on the back as he made his way toward a table and sat down, lifting a drink as the others at the table congratulated him on a job well done.
“What did you think of that punch, huh, bitch?” Carlito said to Scarlet, taunting her as he leaned his head in close to hers. “Did it hurt? It sure looked like it did.” He laughed uproariously, no doubt full of coke—no doubt they all were—until Scarlet somehow found the mettle to spit blood in his face, drawing a gasp of shock from the crowd.
It was at this point that Cracka’s vision abruptly shifted, and suddenly I was looking at the face of Miss Piggy, who was bent over naked in front of me as I fucked her doggy-style while Kermit the Frog watched from the shadowy corner of a candlelit room. “Fuck me, Cracka, you naughty little demon,” Miss Piggy was saying. “Give it to me, you saucy little bastard—”
“What the fuck, Cracka?” I said. “Keep your fucking mind clear, I said.”
“Sorry, boss,” Cracka said. “My bad.”
I’d seen enough, anyway. “Stay here and wait for us to come in. Once we do, fuck shit up. Do it for Miss Piggy.”
“You got it, boss.”
When I opened my eyes, everyone was standing around looking at me.
“Well?” Hannah asked as I waited on my eyes adjusting to the light again. “How many are there? Did you see Scarlet?”
“I saw her,” I said. “They have her on the stage, hanging from a rope. I’d say there are over twenty guys in there. They’re all taking turns having a go at her.”
“What state is she in?” Hannah asked.
“She’s not good,” I said. “Though she still has fight left in her yet. Probably not for much longer, though. We need to move now. Haedemus?”
“Yes, Ethan?” Haedemus said.
“When I tell you to, I want you to kick that door open. Can you do that?”
“Just say the word, Ethan.”
I looked down at the Hellbastards. “As for you guys, you know the drill. Once we get in there—”
“Fuck shit up, boss?” Scroteface asked.
“You got it,” I said. “Here.” I handed them each a smoke grenade. “You go in first and set these off. Got it?”
“We got it, boss.”
I took out my phone and sent Pan Demic and Artemis a text to get ready. After that, I got Haedemus to position himself by the back door, which he did, facing forwards so he could use his back legs to kick the door.
Hannah stood beside me, her demon Visage hovering just behind her, darker than it usually was. “You sure you wanna do this?” I asked her. “I’m not sure this will be good for you. It’ll be a lot of violence and bloodshed.”
“I can handle it,” she said, that amber glow back in her eyes again, a dark smile on her face.
“Maintain control,” I reminded her. “If things get too much, get out of there.”
“Stop worrying,” she said. “I got this.”
Nodding, I took out my phone and texted Pan Demic and Artemis to cut the power, quickly putting the phone in my pocket again as I shouldered the MP5K. “Now, Haedemus!”
Haedemus grunted as he kicked out with his back legs, his massive hooves impacting the steel door and taking it right off its hinges, after which he quickly moved to the side to allow the rest of us to pass.
I took the lead as the Hellbastards all scampered past me with the smoke grenades in their hands. Halfway down the long hallway, we could already hear the baying of the crowd inside as everyone likely wondered why their fun had been spoiled by a power cut. If most of them were the soldiers they thought themselves to be, they would know something was up. Carlito would. He had to have known I wouldn’t let what he did stand, and that I would come after him to get Scarlet back.
The Hellba
stards made it to the door and pushed it open, running inside the dark club to set off the smoke grenades. I waited in the hallway as I aimed my weapon at the door, giving the Hellbastards time to set off the grenades. After ten seconds, I started moving down the hall toward the door, just as someone opened it and entered the hallway, freezing when he saw me. I let off a burst from the MP5K and blasted the guy back through the door, knowing that as soon as I did, it would be on.
The inside of the club was in pitch darkness when we entered, the place filled with heavy smoke now, making visibility impossible for anyone with normal vision. Blinking rapidly three times, I switched to infrared vision, and the room lit up with a sea of orange and red bodies, some standing still, some running around in a panic. Whatever they were doing, it didn’t matter.
Hannah and I opened fire on them straight away, cutting down gangsters left and right, staying on the move as those still standing fired blindly back, having nothing but our muzzle flashes to pinpoint our positions with.
The Hellbastards for their part were diving at whoever was closest to them, biting and clawing at flesh, ripping off limbs, even pulling off heads as their bloodlust soon reached peak levels.
Within minutes, the whole place stank of gunpowder and human offal, the floor turning red in my infrared vision as it became awash with blood.
Haedemus got in on the action too, forcing himself through the narrow club entrance before charging at whoever he pleased, using his razor-sharp horn to spear chests and heads, splitting bodies apart as he discarded them with a shake of his head.
Hannah was the biggest surprise. At some point, she had discarded her rifle and was now using telekinetic power to lift people into the air and rip them limb from limb before they even hit the ground again. In the darkness, I could see the amber glow of her eyes burning brightly, and with each person she ripped apart, she did so with an unholy scream straight from fucking Hell.
And once Carlito’s crew realized that Hell had come for them and there would be no escape, they started screaming and begging God to come and help them.
But God was nowhere near The Brokedown Palace. Only death was, and there would be no escaping it for any of them.
