The Gift

by Gerard A Whitfield

The Gift

  by

  G.A. Whitfield

  The Gift

  Copyright © 2011 by G. A. Whitfield

  Disclaimer:

  This work is 100% fiction. All scenes and events within these pages have been an invention of the author's imagination, and to his knowledge never occurred in reality. Any resemblance to the reader's own experiences is purely coincidental. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One – The Dark Wheel

  Chapter Two – Four Minutes

  Chapter Three – Four Minuets

  Chapter Four – For Minutae

  Chapter Five – Foe Mine

  Chapter Six – Superbia

  Chapter Seven – Luxuria

  The Dark Wheel

  Shinzen City

  Mai Ling

  First Ecclesiarch Protectorate

  “Roll up, roll up!”

  The hawker reeled in his prey. It was his job, and his pleasure. There was always someone; the gullible, the brave and the foolhardy were all attracted to The Wheel. He saw them approach and was glad. A quick adjustment of his hat, a twirl of his cane and he was ready.

  “Welcome to the Dark Wheel, a unique and life-changing experience...”

  Adam DeVries half-heard the spiel, although the firm breast pressed against his shoulder drew more of his attention. This was their last night; tomorrow the transports would leave for the war-zone and these memories would remain with him, blur a little the horror and despair which awaited.

  “Hey, Adam,” Johnny Colso broke into his thoughts, “what about in here?”

  Adam looked up, the garish neon sign drawing his attention. It was a crude representation of a wheel, held in place by a scantily-clad young woman. Strange sigils marked each of sixteen points on its edges and as he watched it span dizzily. What the...? He blinked, it was again only a sign.

  “Yes Sir,” wheedled the hawker, “why not make this a night to remember?”

  The young woman on his arm squeezed closer and Adam assented; it was probably dark inside, and just maybe the evening could start early.

  *

  The two couples entered into the damp interior of the tent; three rows of chairs were placed parallel to, and slightly below a crude stage. On which stood the wheel itself; a shabby structure held its stained and flaking body. From the rear of the stage a woman entered; more naked than clothed as excess flesh poured from her tight costume.

  “Ah, what do we have here?”

  Her voice was low, sultry and in contrast to the seedy costume she wore. Adam felt a strange attraction and in response to the woman’s allure, the girl at his side pressed closer.

  “You!” a grimy finger stabbed towards Adam, “A likely looking boy. Would you care to spin The Wheel?”

  He started to reply, but an imperious waggle of her digit, stalled him.

  “Not so hasty, My Pretty, there are things you should know, before you answer. Sit, whilst I explain.”

  All of them obeyed her command and she rested one hand against the mechanism before speaking.

  “The Dark Wheel comes to us through the mists of time. It is a powerful artefact whose very existence is an abomination. Each spin cuts reality with the screams of a thousand condemned souls. Those who failed its test, who faltered when faced with fear, were consumed by the evil which resides within. It can show you your heart’s desire or torment you with your innermost demons. Do you still wish to continue? This will be your one and only opportunity to refuse...”

  Johnny laughed, “At least we’ll get our money’s worth. You going first Adam, or shall I?”

  “Whatever you like,” Adam said, grinning in return.

  “Okay,” said Johnny, stepping onto the raised platform, “but please be gentle, it’s my first time.”

  The woman merely smiled and bowed him graciously forward, indicating where he should place his hand. With a heave, Johnny started the wheel spinning, the clacking of its spokes rapidly joining in a single note. Adam could not look away; the sigils blurred into one hypnotic line and a weird keening began.

  “Can you hear them?” cackled the woman, “The souls, can you hear them?”

  “A-d-aa-m!”

  Johnny’s cry faded into the background noise as Adam lost consciousness; each spin of the wheel pulled him in closer, ripping him screaming from his body...

  *

  ...it was dark, cold and a cloying mist hung around his feet. Where was he? Adam trudged on, each footstep disturbing small puffs of vapour. A low moaning began to his right accompanying his movement, enticing him on. Now it was a name, his name! Someone was calling him!

  “What do you want!”

  The moan became laughter now, a hiccupping, uncontrollable thing, which taunted and teased.

  “Aa-dam!” it cried and he screamed his defiance.

  Now the tone changed; it hissed in anger and one voice was joined by another, then many and he stumbled, the first pangs of fear weakening his muscles. Something tugged at his leg and he jumped backwards from its clawing grasp. A skeletal hand grasped blindly, the bones clicking together in frustration. More appeared from the mist groping for him. Others pinched at his calves chivvying him forward. Now he was caught, hands dragging him down, ripping and tearing at his flesh. He felt blood trickling down his skin and rage boiled through him.

  “Fuckers!” he snarled, stomping and smashing, “You want some?”

  Even his towering anger was not enough; bony fingers punched through skin, hooking and holding him and ever so slowly, still fighting, they dragged him down...

  *

  ...he broke the surface of the water gasping for breath. The sun burned down mercilessly on him; all around there was water, no land in sight. He shook his head to clear the salty sting of the liquid, twisting as he moved his feet in order to see. Nothing. Adam was alone. A darker cloud began to form in the depths around him, which cleared as he kicked. Blood. His blood. So the skeletons had been real after all?

  If not, if this was but a dream, then he would soon awake. He stopped struggling and sank beneath the surface. His survival instinct kicked in and he thrashed his way up, coughing to clear his lungs. Now treading water he waited, searching the horizon for any sign of life. There. What was that?

  Adam was sure he had seen something. There it was again. A black triangular shape which moved towards him. A sail? His bowels clenched in fear as he realised what it was and he started to swim feverishly. Any direction was good, as long as it was away from his hunter...

  *

  Johnny shouted again. Adam was slumped in his chair, his body jerking and spasming. Occasionally a cry would escape his tightly closed lips, in tune with a more violent movement. One of the women screamed as Adam’s bowels voided in a noisy splutter, the stench quickly reaching Johnny.

  “What have you done!” he demanded of the woman, who watched him avidly.

  “Me? Why nothing, you span the Dark Wheel. You were warned.”

  He reached for her, but snatched his hand back as sharp nails scored his skin. Her bodice was no longer concealing that which it held beneath, flesh tearing its way to freedom. Johnny saw her face change, her mouth widening and filling with sharp teeth. Lambent yellow eyes glared balefully from a face whose skin cracked and suppurated as he watched.

  “What the hell are you?”

  “An impartial, and very hungry judge,” she sneered, “who will make sure this act is played to its full end.”

  A clawed arm lashed out, smashing Johnny in the chest and away from the wheel.

  “We wait,” hissed the monstrosity.

  *

  Clarice was frightened. What had started as innoc
ent fun had now become nightmare. She liked Johnny, but not enough to stay, and so she ran. The flap of the tent twitched as she reached it and a fist slammed into her face, knocking her back into the darkened tent. Blood pouring from her nose, she saw the hawker enter, his hat discarded and any semblance of humanity stripped away.

  “And where,” he sneered, “do you think you are going?”

  One muscular arm encircled her waist and she was forced bodily back to her chair.

  “Oh do stay,” hissed the thing on the stage, “the fun is only just beginning...”

  *

  ...it had disappeared. The fin was no longer visible as it cut through the water. Something bumped against his leg and Adam thrashed violently away. A dark shadow passed below him and the water became stained. Pain wracked his body and he was jerked down, bobbing back up like some fishing float as he was released. It was close now, a hideous head broached the surface and one dead eye gazed at him. As it twisted away, he saw the remains of his left leg hanging from its serrated maw.

  This is nothing more than a dream! Screw it! He stopped fighting and let himself sink. Down he went, the water clearing to give him an unimpeded view of the beast as it flashed towards him, its mouth open in expectation...

  *

  The Wheel spun ever more quickly, light shying from its edges. Darkness crawled along its circumference, nipping and teasing at an ever weakening luminescence. Now it grew, thin tendrils snaking out, before being caught by the whirling structure. Persistent, the darkness won, spiralling away from the wheel, touching gently against the hideous and slavering creature by its side. Now snake-like it made its sinuous way to the remaining humans, latching greedily onto them and sucking them into its deadly embrace.

  *

  ...no! Adam would have none of it. He refused to acknowledge the sawing of his flesh, the pain of separation from his soul, all of it. Anger became his life blood, and he fought. The water was a dark cloud, from whose obscurity darted his demonic attacker. The hand which punched out was crushed and shredded between razor-sharp teeth. Remnants of legs which thrashed in an attempt to obey him were struck again and again. He should be weakening, but pure rage boiled through him. Bubbles formed as heat drove its way past resisting liquid and he roared his challenge as the monster thrust towards him...

  *

  “We have a live one here,” said the hawker, his fingers trailing down Adam’s sweat-streaked face, “the poor boy just doesn’t know when he’s beaten.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” commented his female counterpart, as she kicked Johnny’s motionless body to one side, “it seems he wants to live...but they all give in eventually.”

  Her laughter rattled in her throat. Unaccustomed to such levity her body rebelled, her action ending in a cough and hacking phlegm.

  “There is...shit!”

  The Hawker stared down at the fingers which dug into his thigh and the sightless eyes, now open, in Adam’s face. He bent the first finger back as he tried to release the boy’s grip, yet Adam’s other hand now locked onto the demon’s flesh, and slowly the human began to stand.

  *

  ...Adam remembered. There had been a demon, sharp teeth, blood and an inferno of rage. Tomorrow he could die, not today. He had signed the papers to be such a sacrifice, saving his family and village in the act. That was then but now he was all for life. The monster’s gaping maw had invited him at the end to enter and so he had. No thousand souls inhabited The Wheel. There was only one, and it was hungry. Adam fed it with his anger and his will to live. It was lulled by his weakness and so it sheltered him, and let the beast enter its vile heart. For that was what Adam had become; survival at a cellular level infused him, sustaining him with the lowest of needs. Blood, death and victory were ever his warrior’s calling, and in The Wheel he found a willing aide.

  *

  “Hello...”

  The Hawker twitched. That voice. He recognised it.

  “It’s been a long time, has it not?”

  “Who are you?” The question was a stalling tactic as he tried to pry the human’s fingers loose.

  “You know me,” said Adam, “and you knew me. Cease your efforts to escape...it just won’t work.”

  “Very clever,” the Hawker said, as he reached for his cane. The blade hidden inside would be very useful around about now.

  “A-a-rgh!”

  Pain speared into his legs and he watched dark blood drip free. Adam’s hands had taken tighter hold, the digits boring relentlessly into flesh.

  “Tut, tut...” Adam clicked, now upright. The Hawker screamed as Adam withdrew one hand before plunging it into the chest before him. His other hand now free, he wagged one bloody finger in admonition at the female by The Wheel.

  “Standing very still, would be a good choice, right about now...”

  The power in the voice halted her. Where was the boy? If he lived he was certainly not alone in there. She giggled once, before pulling free a wickedly-curved dagger from behind The Wheel.

  “Flensing...such a lovely word,” she crooned, “I know others, but we can start there...”

  *

  A melding of minds, a fusion of souls, either could describe Adam’s joining with the demon. It was neither of these things. It was a convenience. Adam wanted blood, the demon to escape, and both of them saw an opportunity in the other. Johnny and the girls were forgotten. There was a promised betrayal implicit in the union, but it was a risk worth taking.

  Adam took a step back, his fingers hooked into The Hawker’s chest. The man had to follow the boy as he tugged playfully at the open wound before him. He twisted his prize round to position him once more in front of the woman.

  “Stop!” hissed The Hawker.

  “Are you talking to me?” asked Adam, “Or that?”

  “To both of you.”

  “You really should pay more attention to your marks,” commented Adam, squeezing his fingers closed, “especially when you are near a war-zone.”

  “What are you rambling about?” asked the woman, shifting the blade in her hands.

  “Well,” continued Adam forcing The Hawker to his knees, “you assume that you are the only one’s hunting tonight. Weak humans are your prey and you saw what you were meant to see.”

  A tortured groan caused the woman to spin round. Johnny leant against The Wheel, idly spinning the structure one way and then another. His flesh had greyed; the scratches from her nails oozed no blood, but wept a clear fluid. He patted his right cheek, squeezing flesh back together.

  “Johnny.” acknowledged Adam.

  “Here Boss,” replied his companion, “ready and willing, as usual. Don’t know about them though.”

  Adam looked to Clarice and her friend, “Just sleeping,” he said, “we can take up where we left off later. However before that, we have a job to do.”

  “A job?”

  “Good. You were listening.” Adam said, slapping The Hawker playfully across the back of his head. “There have been rumours, talk of demons getting above themselves, which of course they just wouldn’t do. Our superiors asked us to investigate, to prove them and the stories wrong. So, here we are. I do admit we got a little side-tracked. These humans are just so juicy.”

  “What?” the woman screeched, lunging for Adam.

  “Oh, dear,” he said, easily avoiding her attack by using The Hawker as a shield. “Johnny, would you mind?”

  “A pleasure,” whispered Johnny, the cloth of his shirt ripping as he flexed his shoulders, “I owe this bitch a slapping...”

  “Johnny, Johnny,” admonished Adam, “language please.”

  Johnny laughed as he shook the cloth free, exposing the serrated spine beneath. He hunched over, his jaw extending to its true form and filling with teeth. Long arms hung to the floor which ended in razor-sharp claws.

  “Who are you?” she screamed as the first claw ripped into her flesh.

  “We,” commented Adam as he dragged The Hawker back towards The Wheel, “a
re employed to rid this world of vermin. Our masters pay us well, but the truth is that we love our job.”

  He grasped the edge of The Wheel with his free hand and pressed The Hawker’s face hard against its surface. Whistling to himself, he span the circular structure, its jagged edges tearing flesh.

  “You know,” he said dropping the mangled mess to the floor, “people do us an injustice. We take out the trash, as it were, ensuring that it is disposed of in an environmentally friendly manner.”

  “Now would be good, Johnny,” with a grunt, the saurian muzzle closed over the woman’s neck, bones crunching as he pulled her towards his Master.

  Adam spun The Wheel faster, watching intently as dark tendrils slithered free once more. He swatted them towards their new victims and smiled as they latched on to the demons before him.

  “A Thousand souls you said,” he mused, “that leaves room for nine hundred and ninety-seven more.”

  Within The Wheel, the feared betrayal had taken place, yet there was a peace-offering; two souls worth tormenting.

  *

  “Clarice,” Adam splashed water onto the girl’s face, watching her with concern.

  “Where am I...the man...The Wheel!”

  “Now, now,” Adam comforted, “you fainted when we got in there. Johnny and your girlfriend left in disgust.”

  The girl looked around at the bustling crowds. She sat, half-propped on a bench, with her head resting in Adam’s lap.

  “You want me to take you home?”

  She nodded, happy that she had at last found one of the good ones.

  Adam helped her to her feet, one arm round her waist to support her. The cry of a hawker caused him to look back and he saw the man twirl his cane in recognition. He smothered a laugh. That Johnny, he thought, just loves his job.

  Four Minutes

  Cardinal’s Palace

  Heavenly City

  Spindle

  That was what they gave him, no more and no less; he had four minutes to save the world. It was laughable; he was no Prelate-blessed superhero, in fact he did not even know one end of a gun from another, but he was all they had.

  The voice in his ear counted down slowly via the aid of his new communications unit. He wished he could rip it out, throw it away and forget all about this idiocy, but that was not possible. His family were strapped to chairs in plain sight of the debauched multitude and their fate would be sealed along with the rest of the righteous, pious ecclesiarchs unless he could fulfil his mission.