Hell on Earth Trilogy: The Complete Apocalyptic Saga

by Iain Rob Wright

  “I lost my wings when I fell. I’m not really an angel anymore. I have a little residual power, just enough to bring you back, but I can’t teleport, or shoot fire from my eyes. Lucky for you, neither can any of my big brothers currently stomping their way around the earth.”

  “How do we fight back?”

  “By doing what you’ve been doing. I don’t know if you noticed, Rick, but we just passed about two dozen dead demons. Maddy must have killed five or six by running them down in your car. They die as easily as you do. If people realise they can fight back, humanity might have a chance. Men are animals, but they’ve forgotten. People need to rediscover their claws before it’s too late.”

  “I think it might already be too late.”

  Daniel stumbled and almost fell. His nose bled again, and Rick had to steady him. When he looked into his eyes, the irises had turned a solid black.

  “What’s happening to you, Daniel?”

  “The iron in my blood. There’s only a trace amount, but it’s keeping me from healing. Bringing you back, it… it…”

  Daniel’s legs folded, and he fell into Rick’s arms, shuddering and moaning.

  “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Rick knelt down and heaved Daniel up onto his shoulders. He hurried through the gate and staggered up the driveway. The front door hung open too; he hadn’t closed it when he’d left—he’d not expected to return. There was something sad about returning home now—an emptiness of knowing it was no longer a house, but a tomb. It was destined to deteriorate into a neglected ruin. Still, it was the only thing left that reminded Rick of what life had been less than a week ago.

  Things had changed in the blink of an eye.

  Daniel trembled across Rick’s shoulders, having a mild fit as he hurried inside and went into the living room. He threw the wounded angel down on the couch, and then he turned to go get water from the kitchen.

  “Worm! You live still?”

  Rick lurched backwards in fright, colliding with the glass coffee table in the centre of the room and cracking it. The noise brought more demons rushing into the room, and he found himself encircled.

  The monsters had invaded his home.

  “What are you doing in my house?”

  Khallutush bared his rotting teeth. “Looking for things to kill. I get to crush your skull all over again, worm.”

  Rick remembered what Daniel had said about fighting, so he didn’t back away, even though he wanted to. Not intending to get pinned down, he clambered up onto the couch and launched himself over the back of it. He collided with a nearby demon and sent it crashing into the wall. It stumbled to its knees, which gave Rick chance to viciously stomp on its head. Another demon tried to grab him from behind. He thrust his head backwards and broke its fragile nose before spinning around and clubbing it in the side of the head with his fist. It fell down unconscious.

  More demons attacked, but Rick kept them at bay with fists and feet, stomping them whenever he could knock one down. He eventually found himself face to face with Khallutush, who stood before him, laughing like a towering hyena.

  “Lie down, worm, my foot is ready to reacquaint itself with your skull.”

  “No, thanks.”

  Khallutush roared and swung his giant fists at Rick. Rick ducked and delivered a punch of his own, hitting the festering gut wound caused by the iron poker. His fist came away caked in foul smelling gore, but Khallutush bellowed in pain and doubled over.

  Rick raced into the kitchen and yanked open a drawer. He pulled out the biggest knife he could find and—

  Khallutush rammed into Rick from behind, knocking the wind out of his lungs and sending him sprawling across the counter top. He barely slipped away before Khallutush could hit him with a follow-up blow.

  Another demon ran into the kitchen and tried to leap on Rick while he was off balance. He ducked and buried his knife into its guts, pulling it free with a sickly pop. Then he dodged behind the kitchen island and used it as a barrier between him and the monstrous Khallutush.

  Khallutush laughed. “You reek of desperation.

  “And you reek of ancient dead person.”

  “You speak to a prince of Hell.”

  “You’re in my fucking kitchen.” Rick picked up a bamboo chopping board from the counter and hurled it at Khallutush. It hit the demon in the chest and made him grunt, but then he laughed. With impossible strength, he reached out a giant hand and swept aside the heavy granite-countertop island. Rick stumbled out of the way before he was crushed, but found himself cornered at the back of the kitchen with no way to get out.

  Khallutush approached.

  Rick threw a punch, but Khallutush caught his hand and squeezed. “Worthless maggot. You will be forgotten before your body even cools.”

  Rick moaned as the bones in his hand creaked in the demon’s vice-like grip. He beat at Khallutush’s chest with his free hand, but it was like punching brick. Every second the pressure increased. Khallutush seemed to savour the agony on Rick’s face.

  Rick screamed.

  “Yes,” Khallutush purred, “Beg. Beg for mercy. Beg to be forgotten.”

  Rick bit down on his tongue as the tiny bones in his hand snapped like twigs. The pain was so unbearable that he would do anything to make it stop. It took everything he had not to give in. “I’m a one-hit wonder. I’ll never be forgotten.”

  Khallutush snarled, and clamped his fist closed, crushing Rick’s hand flat and breaking every tiny bone. He screamed so hard that something in his throat ripped. He coughed, spluttered, and vomited.

  Khallutush let him collapse to the floor and stood over him. “Time to die, and stay dead, worm.” He lifted his huge foot over Rick’s skull. “You have the honour of dying at the foot of a prince twice.”

  Rick clutched his hand and moaned on the floor, waiting for death—welcoming it.

  “Didn’t anybody tell you?” came a voice from across the room. “Your kingdom fell to ruin a long time ago. You’re a prince of nothing.”

  Still perched on one leg, Khallutush glanced back over his shoulder and seemed confused.

  Rick craned his neck and saw Daniel standing in the entrance. The wounded angel held the severed head of a demon under his arm, like a basketball.

  “Daniel the Watcher?” Khallutush snarled. “You should be burning in Hell.”

  “I’m on vacation.” Daniel bowled the severed head into the air, and it ignited. When it struck Khallutush, it engulfed him like a human torch. His thick arms flailed as he spun on the spot and screamed defiance. “You will all burn!”

  Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Says the one who’s on fire.”

  Khallutush flailed across the kitchen, flaming hands reached out towards Daniel, but he slowed down half way and slumped to his knees. He kept his focus on Daniel the entire time, his wicked eyes shining through the flames. “He will never forgive you, Daniel.”

  Then the ancient prince collapsed onto his front and died.

  Rick clambered to his feet, clutching his mangled hand against his chest and trying not to black out from the pain. He stared at Daniel in amazement. The angel still looked at death’s door, sweating profusely, but he’d killed the demons in the living room and had turned one of their severed heads into a blazing cannonball. He was anything but meek.

  Rick bent down and righted one of the kitchen’s fallen stools. He dragged himself on top of it and looked at Daniel. “I thought you didn’t have a lot of power left?”

  Daniel placed his hand down on the side counter and tried to catch his breath. When he did, he said, “I have a couple of parlour tricks when needed. I dealt with the rest of the demons in the house. If you get that gate closed, I think we’ll be safe for now.”

  “Maddy had my keys, but I think I have a spare set somewhere. I’ll go find them.”

  “Great,” said Daniel. “You go do that while I pass out.”

  Rick opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted as Daniel collapsed face first on the floor, right
next to Khallutush.

  ~David Davids~

  Slough, Berkshire

  David stood watching at the edge of the room. He watched little Alice hard at work, doing whatever the adults gave her to do, so that she didn’t have to face the anguish inside her head. No child should face what she had. Her brother had been far too young to die a hero.

  Carol was a hero too. The tireless old bird hobbled about on her cane, shouting orders like a drill sergeant, keeping everybody on task. She was there to keep them all motivated and unafraid, but she had nobody doing the same for her. It was her toughness alone that kept everyone going.

  Mina might have been the biggest hero of all. She had faced danger at every turn, but had never shied away from doing the right thing. She had been unwilling to turn away from any person in need, but nobody had been there for her when she’d needed it. In David’s line of work, he rarely met ‘good’ people, but Mina had certainly qualified. Since Oxford Street, he had cared only about getting the story and furthering his career. With all the death he had seen, he realised how vain and petty his life had been. It all seemed like such a waste. Mina’s death highlighted how fragile life was, and how easily it could slip away. It made no sense that her death had affected him so much, but it had. He couldn’t get the image of her swinging body out his head.

  It filled him with rage.

  Mina hadn’t killed herself, he was certain of it. She’d been murdered. Andras had a scratch mark on his neck, and he had been the last person to see Mina alive. That was evidence and a connection to the victim. The only thing left to prove was motive. David intended to do that right now.

  He went on over to where Mitchell was tapping away at his keyboard and leaned over the man’s shoulder and whispered, “Please tell me you have the black box data for Mina’s computer.”

  Mitchell started at the sudden voice in his ear, but he recovered and nodded. “Just finished compiling it. You want me to open it?”

  “Yes.”

  Mitchell zipped around with the mouse and opened a couple of folders. He double-clicked a text file, and the contents popped up on screen.

  “What am I looking at?” asked David, as he examined the crowded mess on screen.

  “It’s just code. Let me scroll down… Here—the last few actions before the website went dark. Someone definitely deleted the whole thing.”

  “How?”

  “They deleted all the files off the local server, and then uploaded through Mina’s FTP manager. They basically uploaded a blank slate to the website. That’s why there’s nothing but a white screen—there’s no data to fetch.”

  “You have a backup?”

  Mitchell nodded. “Yeah, I can access the revisions on the server and roll things back. Should be easy enough.”

  David was relieved and let it show, but there were still other questions he wanted answered. “Anything to tell you who deleted everything?”

  “Yes, it was Mina.”

  David frowned. “She wouldn’t have.”

  “You’re probably right, but it was her logged in at the time.”

  David folded his arms for a moment and thought it through. “She was updating the website when she was last sitting down. Do you have that data?”

  “It’s here—4.57PM. I saw her sitting there myself. She got up a little after five. According to this… the data was deleted at 5.06PM. It was right after Mina left the office to take a phone call. I know who deleted the files.”

  David already knew the answer as well. “Andras.”

  Mitchell nodded. “Yeah, he stayed at Mina’s desk for at least ten minutes after she left. It could only have been him.”

  “Then I have what I need. I suspected Andras was the one behind the sabotage.”

  “Sabotage? You don’t think it was an accident then?”

  “No, I do not.”

  “David, what exactly is going on here? Where’s Mina?”

  “She’s dead, Mitchell. I strongly suspect that Andras killed her, right after he deleted the website.”

  Mitchell shook his head and looked bewildered. “Mina’s dead? Man, why would Andras do anything like this? It makes no sense.”

  “Murder rarely makes sense, Mitchell, but I’m certain it was him. Mina had a broken fingernail, and Andras has a scratch on his neck. She tried to fight him off.”

  Mitchell flopped back in his chair and put his head in his hands, seemingly close to tears. “God, David. We’re fighting for our lives here, and there’re still monsters like him running around. I still don’t understand why he would do it.”

  “Me neither, but now I have everything I need to demand an answer.”

  Mitchell nodded. “I’m right behind you. Where is he now? Andras?”

  David looked around. He had assumed Andras would be somewhere nearby, but he wasn’t. Damn it. Had he realised David was on to him and scarpered? He couldn’t be allowed to get away.

  David took a few steps, then grabbed Corporal Martin as the soldier went to walk by. “Hey, Martin. Where’s Andras?”

  “I haven’t seen him, but listen to this. I just spoke to a colleague based out of Camp Bastion. They’ve been monitoring areas of the Middle East with satellite surveillance and they—”

  “Not now, Martin. I need to find Andras.”

  The soldier shrugged. “Fine. I was only going to tell you that someone closed a gate in Syria, but if you need to rush off, then by all means…”

  David gawped at the corporal. “Somebody’s closed one of the gates? Really?”

  Martin grinned. “I promise you. The MOD satellite only gave a bunch of still images, but there’s evidence of a firefight, and the gate is gone. Looks like somebody fought back, and won.”

  David slapped him on the arm. “Hooray for mankind. We will not let those bastards walk all over us.”

  “Hell no, we won’t. They’re going to wish they never stepped foot in our territory.”

  David felt the smile trickle from his face as he regretted Mina not being there to share the good news. “Andras. Where did you see him last?”

  Martin shrugged. “He headed out to get some fresh air, I think.”

  David looked towards the exit and growled.

  “You okay, David?”

  He didn’t reply. He marched across the office, shoving Big Jimmy out of his way in the centre of the room. Then he barged through the exit and went out into the waiting room. It was empty, but something in David’s bones told him he was heading in the right direction. Andras was out here, somewhere; he knew it.

  He took the stairs downward and detected the tang of blood in the air. Despite her being dead, David wanted to check on Mina. He headed to the accountant’s office where he had placed her, and the smell of blood got even stronger. It made no sense because Mina had not been wounded. Whether it was paranoia, or a subconscious eye for detail, David noticed the furniture in the office had moved. The reception desk had been piled high with stacks of paperwork, but some of those piles now lay on the floor. It could have been a breeze, but it was hot and still. He could already feel the sweat on his back just from taking the stairs down.

  A shuffling sound came from one of the smaller offices. It was too dark to see in through the room’s windows, and horizontal blinds broke up any would-be shadows, but he knew somebody was inside. David considered shouting out, but reconsidered. He was here to find that bastard, Andras, so he didn’t want to give himself away.

  The shuffling stopped, replaced by a faint whispering. The words made no sense, a jumble of consonants and few vowels. David kept low and crept towards the door to the office. He placed his ear against the wood and tried to listen.

  A man inside was chanting—“Grlaw grlaw, hmdar veri vesta. Larix van doth.”

  It was Andras, David was sure, but what language was he speaking? He knew a little Latin from his university days, but it wasn’t that. He knew German from a brief spell as a war correspondent, but it wasn’t that either. It was gibberish—the guttur
al snaps of an angry dog.

  Andras was insane.

  The thought of getting his hand on Mina’s murderer was too much to resist. David barged through the door.

  Andras stood half-naked over Mina’s unclothed body. Her hands and feet were removed, placed in each corner of the room, and the brown flesh of her stomach was sliced open to reveal a gaping hole. Congealed blood coated Andras’s bare chest.

  “You… you fuckin’ monster!”

  Andras saw David, but he didn’t seem to care. He held his bloody hands up in front of him as some kind of grizzly taunt.

  David felt weak. His stomach’s meagre contents dredged up, and he vomited. Mina had been his friend and colleague. Now she lay, defiled, on the floor. “Why would you do something so unspeakable?” he demanded once he could get a hold on himself.

  Andras’s answer was: “To send a message.”

  “A message to whom? Me?”

  “Ha! You are insignificant. The message is for my brothers. You may have heard of them; they are currently crushing your world beneath their glorious feet.”

  David drew a blank.

  Andras grunted. “The Fallen are my brothers, and they will destroy all. The time of man is over.”

  “You’re talking about the giants?”

  “They are not giants. Men are puny ants.”

  “You’re a loon,” said David. “Do you think you’re some kind of demon helping the other side? Fantasy or delusion, I don’t care which. You’re finished.”

  Andras laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? This is just a meat suit. Some drug addict I borrowed as he choked to death on his own vomit. You could not bear to look upon the glory of my true form. I am here to see you all burn.”

  David glared. “You killed Mina.”

  “I will kill millions before I am done.”

  “Then why are you hanging around a regional newspaper office?”

  “You are one of the few news gatherers left. You have provided me with data from all over the world, highlighting areas that my brothers need to address. I deleted your pathetic website, and I will help delete mankind’s existence.”