Spider's Lullaby

by James R. Tuck

  No, that’s not right. Everything was fuzzy, out of focus. I blinked.

  That was hair. Rings of brunette hair. Ronnie.

  The world came back into focus with a snap.

  I was laying on the concrete floor of the warehouse. It was cold against the back of my head. Ronnie was sitting beside me; her tiny fingers were pressed against the pulse under my jaw. Pain flared in my chest with every breath, making sunspots of heavy ache. The popping nose I heard kept going. It took a second for my mind to realize what it was.

  Sporadic three-round bursts from an AK-47.

  I pushed myself up to a sitting position. The hot pain in my chest pushed a groan out that vibrated the bones of my skull. Reaching under the tactical vest, my fingers searched, looking for the wound.

  They came out clean. The ceramic plates had held. They were dented to hell and back; the four points of impact bulged out where they had been driven into my sternum. Lifting my arms, I waited for the grinding pain that would indicate a cracked breastbone. It hurt, but the pain was smooth, not jagged. Not bone rubbing bone.

  I swallowed twice trying to talk. “Who’s shooting?”

  “Tiff. She has a rifle and is keeping the guy who kidnapped me pinned on the other side of the warehouse.”

  Tiff? Shit. I should have known that asshole wouldn’t go down that easy.

  I had to push through a wall of pain just to roll over on my knees. Fuck pain. I had been hurt before. I could keep going. I had to.

  Crawling over to the forklift, I peered over the seat. Tiff was crouched up on a stack of crates. She had an AK-47 pointed at the Kensai, who was squatting directly across from me. Back to me, he crouched down beside another stack of crates just out of Tiff’s line of sight. All she could do was lay in cover fire to keep him pinned down. But her ammunition wasn’t unlimited and the Kensai knew this. I watched him make movements to bait her into wasting bullets that wouldn’t hit him.

  His back was a giant smear of blood, but the skin underneath was smooth and whole. The gunshot wounds had closed up, washed away like they had never happened. A grinning Oni, a Japanese demon, leered out from under his skin. The tattoo filled his entire back in blood-red ink. It was one of the most realistic tattoos I had ever seen. I had tattooed for over a decade before my life exploded and I became a monster hunter. I had lived in Japan for six months studying their tattoo work. The demon on his back was lifelike to a point beyond human capabilities. In the shadowed light, under a smear of blood, I could swear the Oni in his skin was moving.

  I shook my head to clear it. My eyes were playing tricks on me.

  The two .45s lay between us on the floor, gleaming in the sodium glare of the overhead lights. Pockmarks littered the cement floor where Tiff was keeping him from them.

  My Desert Eagle was gone, spun off somewhere when I had gone down. Reaching to pull the Taurus from behind my back sent a throb of hurt echoing through my chest. I took aim, finger squeezing down, pulling in the trigger slack.

  BADOOM!

  The .44 Magnum bucked hard in my hand, trying to jump away. Wood exploded, splintering by the Kensai’s head. Tiny toothpicks littered his hair. Illegal white powder flew out of the hole to make a cloud around him and sticking to the bloody demon on his back.

  The Kensai whirled, hand whipping out the sword from his waistband. Light gleamed on its edge, but the blade was black. Teeth bared, he growled like a feral animal. “ENOUGH!”

  His mouth began to move, lips forming words my ears couldn’t even hear. They were so alien, so evil, that they dropped to a subvocal level. My eardrums hurt, each unhearable word striking them like a hammer on a gong. Pressure built inside my head, letting go with a hot wash of blood as my eardrums burst.

  The Kensai bulged. Muscles knotted, swelling and changing. Corrupted yellow light ripped through his skin, splitting it to shine out through the rips. Bones formed in knots. As he convulsed, his magick slapped into me.

  My power lit on fire inside me. I was covered head to toe in slick sweat. My clothes were drenched. They were slipped around me, wadding and bunching. Sulfur in my mouth made me spit and gag. I fought to push my power down, to insulate myself from the effects.

  The Kensai grew, body expanding in bulging, herky-jerky movements. Jagged horns split his forehead, and curved tusks thrust out from his upper jaw to curl in the air. Spittle and blood dripped off them, spatting on the floor. His skin sealed back together from the rips, shutting away the corrupted light of magick. As the last rip sealed, his skin washed crimson like a lobster dropped in a boiling pot. The magick ended with a crash.

  The Kensai was now an Oni.

  The Oni rose to its feet. Ten feet tall, the sword looked like a toy in its three-fingered grip. It stretched and shook, like it had just woken up from a long nap. As it turned at the waist I saw that there was a tattoo on its back of a man. Of the Kensai.

  That’s jacked up.

  “Ahhhhh.” The demon’s voice was a deep, hollow echo. It rasped against my damaged eardrums like sandpaper on raw skin. “That’s better.” It looked at me with a baleful eye. “I am going to kill you, little man. Then I am going to rape your females. If you do not fight, I will let them live when I am done.”

  Bullets ripped across the Oni’s face. Most of them pinged off horn jutting from forehead, brow, and cheeks, but some cut harsh lines through scarlet demonskin. The impacts drove his head to the side.

  Tiff stood on a crate. A scream ripped out of her, twisting her face in anger as she unleashed a fully automatic burst of hot lead. The gun in her grip chattered, spitting bullets. It took only a second for the gun to empty, bolt locking back with an audible clack. She threw the worthless gun at the Oni. It swirled through the air, clattering up against his skull.

  “Rape THAT, you horn-faced bastard!”

  Hell yeah, that’s my girl.

  The Oni let out a scream of rage, yellow blood dripping from the holes in his face and neck. “I will suck the marrow from your bones!” A red-knuckled fist smashed into the crate beside him. It flew up in a whirl of splinters and narcotics, spinning through the air at Tiff. I watched in horror as it slammed against the crate she was on, sending her tumbling off.

  Rage sparked deep inside me. It ignited with a flash, combusting inside my veins. Adrenaline traced burn trails, sweeping away my pain, leaving my mind clear and focused. Without thinking, I clambered over the forklift, gun out. I walked toward the Oni, each step a pull of the trigger.

  My hatred gave laser focus. I put one bullet in its stomach, yellow corruption blowing out to paint the crate beside it. The gun in my hand kicked up and I rode that kick to put another bullet in the demon’s sternum. It punched in, splitting red skin apart, cutting off the Oni’s roar of pain and anger. The demon fell to one knee, making my third shot zing over its bulging shoulder, blowing back the shaggy mane of coarse hair that hung from its skull. It huddled around the hole in its chest as I stepped up to it.

  One baleful eye the size of a baseball rolled up at me as I pointed the Taurus at that massive skull. “Don’t ever threaten my people again.”

  My finger squeezed the trigger on the last bullet in the gun.

  The Oni jerked its head.

  The tremendous .44 caliber slug banged into the horn that curled around the left side of the demon’s head, cracking it in two. The black horn snapped off, falling to the ground at my feet as the bullet ricocheted off into the night.

  Shitdamn!

  The muscles in the demon’s shoulder tensed, contracting into knots, veins tracing under boiled red skin. I pushed off with my foot, throwing myself back as its arm lashed out, black blade of the katana slicing air. The keen edge cut through the Kevlar of my vest, hitting the ceramic plates underneath with a hissing scrape.

  It felt like being hit with a baseball bat.

  The cement floor came up at me in a rush. I slammed against it for the second time tonight. Neck tense, I held my head up so my skull wouldn’t bash into it. The impact jar
red pain through my entire body. Every tendon and every nerve jerked tight, snapped to the breaking point. Ache crawled over me like a blanket.

  Opening my eyes, I saw the Oni stand to its feet. The wounds in its gut and chest still gaped, flexing in and out like suckling mouths. They shrank with each spasm, closing up. It took a big step toward me, murder shining in jaundiced eyes. The sword rose up over a shaggy head.

  A whirr revved behind me. Something chirped. I jerked my head to see Ronnie on the forklift. Her face was a mask of anger as she steered it toward the Oni. The egg sac swung to and fro from the forks as the two-ton piece of machinery zipped across the floor. The Oni squawked as it slammed into him and crashed to the floor. The forklift rolled over its leg, tilting up over the obstacle. Ronnie was tossed out of the seat, tumbling off the forklift. The heavy equipment shuddered to a stop, pinning the red demon to the floor.

  I got to my feet. Tiff came around the corner, running over to help Ronnie up. She had a tear in her coat sleeve and I could see bright blood running down her hand, but she was alive and whole. Relief loosened something tight in my chest.

  I turned to the demon pinned to the ground. It struggled, trying to push itself up. Taloned fingers click-clacked on the floor, slipping out from under it. Over and over it slipped and fell, pinned on its chest. Across its back the tattoo of the Kensai moved, pushing out like it was trapped behind a mirror, illustrated hands scrabbling at the underside of demonskin.

  Taking a step forward, my boot tapped the katana. I bent down. My fingers clenched the handle, woven cord rough against my palm. Tingling started in my fingertips as I stood again.

  The demon strained to look at me as I stood over it. Jaundiced demon eyes traced the blade in my hand.

  The demon’s mouth moved, thick, rubbery lips smearing with brackish spittle. It chewed words around the tusks that stuck out from its upper jawbone. “You should not kill me. I can give you things.” It swallowed. “I can give you desires. We can make a deal.”

  Demons and their deals. Even lesser, earth-bound demons like Oni. They always want to bargain, offering to give you the world. All it will take is your pesky little soul. And what they never tell you is that they don’t take your soul when you die. Oh no, they’ll take it in bite-sized chunks for the rest of your life. They rip it away, mutilating it by hurting the people you love, destroying the things you hold dear. They take every bit of goodness from you and torture it to death in front of your eyes.

  Been there. Done that. Fuck you.

  The katana raised over my head.

  “To hell with you and your deal. You should never have come after me and mine. This is the price you pay.”

  The curved blade flashed down, driving through the heart of the man tattooed on the demon’s back. It sliced through skin and spine to crack into the floor beneath. The tattoo of the Kensai writhed, screaming under his prison of demonskin. The Oni contorted, writhing like a bug pinned to a board. Corrupted yellow blood welled up around the sword and began to flow up the blade. It soaked in, sucked into the black steel as the sword began to drink down the demon. My power kicked to life and I felt the sword exult as it drank in the Oni’s essence. The demon’s cries were drowned out as the cursed blade sang out, reveling in the demon blood. It sang my name. It tugged at me, begging for more.

  I jerked my hand off the handle.

  The connection broke like spun glass.

  The blade continued to absorb the demon. The body twitched and convulsed, shrinking back into the Kensai. With one last shudder, the transformation was complete. The Kensai lay still. The sword stuck out of his back, blade biting into an expanse of bare skin. The demon backpiece was gone.

  I stumbled back. Pain swelled in my chest as my adrenaline evaporated. Exhaustion of exertion dumped me on my ass. Arms and hands came from behind, holding me up. I turned. Tiff was on one side, Ronnie on the other.

  Tiff pushed magenta hair out of her face. “Are you okay?”

  I waved away her concern. Moving my hand made my chest pulse and ache. “I’ll be okay.” I reached out for both of them. “Way to kick ass, ladies.” Both of them blushed. Ronnie turned her head away from the praise, Tiff grinned at me.

  Ronnie looked over both of us, brown eyes glittering in a mask of smeared mascara. “Thank you both for rescuing me.”

  Tiff shook her head. “It’s what we do for family.” The two girls shared a look and a nod.

  “Help me up and we can get the hell out of here.” Both of them put hands under my arms, trying to lift me.

  That’s when we heard the egg sac full of murderous, supernatural spider babies rip open.

  14

  The spiders fell in a rain of hunger. Hundreds of them poured out of the hanging egg sac, spilling onto the body of the Kensai. Each spider was the size of a quarter. Tiny bulbous bodies with long spindly legs. They were translucent white. You could see through their skin, their insides visible as if through a fogged window. They skittered and swarmed over the body under them and began to feed.

  I could feel them through my power. They were a mass of hunger. Their venom burned my skin, acidic and poisonous. Tiny legs plucked along my power as they ran back and forth, devouring flesh. Murder pulsed off them.

  Pushing to my feet, I grabbed Tiff. “Go get Charlotte. Without her these things will kill everything they can.” She nodded, turned, and ran down the corridor of crates. As I watched, the flesh began to disappear from the Kensai. Ghost spiders crawled up, devouring, leaving behind only bone.

  My mind raced. Guns were not going to work on these things. I could stomp them, but they would swarm over me, taking me down quickly. I started looking around for something to crush the spiders with. Ronnie was watching the spiders eat, horrified.

  My hand clamped on her arm. “Run. Go. I’ll take care of them, but get the hell out of here!” She turned to me, eyes wide. White showed around her entire iris. She made no move to run.

  Dammit.

  My fingers scrabbled at the Velcro straps holding the bulletproof vest on. They pulled away with the sound of tearing fabric. I jerked the vest off and folded the two sides together. Slapping at the Velcro, I tried to make a flat pad I could use to squash as many spiders as possible. My chest locked tight with the effort and pain, vision blurring as my fingers fumbled. The skittering along my power was reaching a fever pitch.

  The last strap slapped into place as the spiders finished their meal. They turned as one mass toward me, perched along the cleaned bones of the Kensai. Each ghost spider stared at me with eight unblinking blood-drop orbs. They began to crawl toward me.

  I stood ready, swaying on my feet, vest held out ready to swat.

  Ronnie kicked my knee from behind.

  The blow took me by surprise, knocking me to the floor. I went down hard. My elbow and hip slammed into the hard floor. Ronnie jumped over my legs, bare feet slapping the concrete as she charged the spiders. They stopped moving.

  Pushing off the floor, I scrambled to my feet. Her name ripped out of my throat as I moved to stop her. She was too far ahead. As I watched, she dropped to her knees. Spiders boiled away as she shoved her arm into their mass. They skittered over her, crawling across bare skin, swarming up her arms and chest.

  The spiders all froze.

  Slowly, Ronnie pulled her hand from the crowd of spiders blanketing the Kensai’s bones. Crimson light broke free, bathing her as she raised the sorcerous ruby over her head.

  My power flared, spilling out. The gemstone pulsed with scarlet light like a beating heart. Ronnie stood up, legs wobbling and shaky. Tiny pale spider bodies, lit like red Christmas lights, tumbled off her.

  “... stop, stop, stop ...” The words tripped over each other trying to get out of her mouth. My power hit just as her mind split open.

  The first tiny filament whipped out, lashing across her mind. The end of the silk thread was barbed. It sank into the flesh of her mind and took root. It was followed by hundreds more. They fell like a metaphysica
l rain, weaving a network of connections between her mind and each tiny, venomous arachnid—a web of hair-thin connections binding Ronnie to the spiders. My power could feel them build like a mass of tangled hair, knotted and Gordian.

  There was no way to extricate Ronnie’s mind from the spiders now. Her eyes rolled back into her skull, lips jam-mering as she began to babble. I could feel her mind crack, fracturing at each connection point. It began to break into tiny pieces. I pushed with everything I had in me, throwing my power over her, trying to hold her mind together. Pieces of her kept slipping through, too small, too broken to hold together.

  Charlotte stepped into my line of sight.

  I hadn’t heard her and Tiff come up. Swaying, she walked to Ronnie. Slender fingers with too many joints cupped the tiny dancer’s face. Ronnie twitched, muscles dancing under her skin. I felt Charlotte’s lycanthropy spark a split second before the change washed away her humanity.

  “It will be all right, little one. Do not fight. It is a gift.” Charlotte smoothed back Ronnie’s hair.

  My power was still connected. In my mind’s eye I saw Charlotte’s lycanthropy sweep through Ronnie’s mind, sealing all the fractures, mending the erosion of her sanity. Her spider wove furiously, knitting the web of connections between Ronnie and the spiders from a tangle into an intricate lace.

  Ronnie’s lips stopped moving as Charlotte held her face. The Were-spider made soft shushing noises, telling her it would be okay.

  Mascara-smeared eyelids closed, fluttering. My power was pushed away as Charlotte’s lycanthropy sealed the connections between Ronnie and the spiders. As the last fracture closed my connection with them shattered like an icicle under a sledgehammer. Ronnie’s eyes snapped open.

  Charlotte melted back into human. “Are you with us, child?”

  Ronnie nodded slowly. She opened her mouth, then closed it with a frown. Charlotte smoothed a hand across her brow.

  “It’s okay, little one. It will take a bit for you to think like a human again. Your words will come.” She looked over at me and Tiff. Her long, thin arm slid over Ronnie’s shoulders and the dancer huddled into the embrace. “She’ll be fine. It will take some time, but she will be okay.”