by R W Thorn
By pure luck, Jack still held his crossbow. The Hell-beast snarled in infernal rage as it lunged toward him. But Jack was snarling also, his fury a match for the beast’s. He had been fighting creatures like this for more years than he cared to remember and would not accept defeat without doing all he could. He aimed the crossbow and fired three times in quick succession.
“Go to Hell, you foul beast!” Jack yelled in desperate rage mixed with hope.
The first two bolts glanced from the Hell-beast’s left neck and a horn, doing no damage at all. But by a combination of good luck and good timing, the third bolt entered the mouth of the middle head and pierced the Hell-beast in the back of the throat.
It was a good shot, and Jack could only hope that the mechanism built into the bolt worked as it should. The Hell-beast snapped its jaws closed. For an instant, it appeared that the holy water within the crossbow bolt had had no effect. Jack feared that he would have to use the crossbow as a shield to keep the beast’s savage jaws from ripping into his flesh. He started to think that at least he had given Lennox the chance to find the child, and then to wonder if his durability was about to find its limit.
Then the middle head of the Hell-beast coughed out a cloud of greenish putrescence all over Jack’s face. Jack shut his eyes, raised his arms, and turned aside, but too late. He became coated in the awful sulfurous goo. It was cloying and foul, and Jack couldn’t help but think it might be yet another form of attack. But the Hell-beast wasn’t pressing its advantage. Instead, it rocked back and shrieked even more loudly than before.
Something about the tone of the shriek suggested not just rage but agony as well.
Jack panted as if he had been for a run and his heart pounded loudly in his ears. He used the sleeve of his trenchcoat to wipe the muck from his eyes and saw that the Hell-beast was shaking its heads as if to dislodge something painful. The middle one spouted ever-increasing clouds of green foulness. The holy water acted as an acid eating away at the monster’s throat, and for a moment Jack dared to hope it would be sufficient to send it straight back to Hell.
No such luck.
Behind the Hell-beast, Jack could see Lennox making her way back to the escalator, carrying a child who couldn’t be more than six years old, a girl dressed in a bright-red jacket. Lennox kept an eye on the monster and moved cautiously, but the young girl was terrified. Between the Hell-beast’s shrieks of pain and madness, Jack could hear the girl continue to whimper in fear.
The Hell-beast heard it as well. Between one heartbeat and the next, it ceased its desperate shaking. One last cloud of putrescence escaped from the mouth of the middle head. It glared at Jack for a moment more. Then, as if consciously deciding to go for an easier target, the Hell-beast turned itself about.
Lennox had made it to the top of the escalator. Jack could see her clearly and knew her confusion. The infernal monster was set to attack. Normally, Lennox would have crouched low and let loose with the shotgun or her magic, or both. But now she had the girl to protect. It was all she could do to turn her back on the Hell-beast and offer herself as a shield.
Jack fired the crossbow again and again, but the Hell-beast’s back offered no weak points, and the bolts did no damage.
“Hey!” Jack yelled. “Foul creature, look at me!”
Grenade
The Hell-beast ignored him and got ready to pounce. In a last, desperate attempt to keep it from attacking Lennox and the girl, Jack quickly scrambled upright and dropped his crossbow to the floor. Then, mindful of Amelia’s increasing worry, he launched himself at the Hell-beast, latching on to its tail and gripping it tightly.
He planted his feet and used all of his strength to anchor the monster in place.
The tail felt tough and wiry and bony all at once in his hands. It wasn’t a normal tail, but a sinuous appendage that writhed all by itself. At the end of it, there was no tuft of fur, no collection of spikes, nothing that any other tail might have. Instead, the end of this tail was like the head of a snake, complete with eyes, fangs, and a forked tongue.
The snake-headed tail hissed and spat at Jack. He cursed out loud and tried to throttle it, but it was the least of his problems. He was an ant trying to hold back a powerful Titan. A spider web trying to catch a tornado. While Jack’s own strength dwarfed that of those with only human blood in their veins, he was no match for the Hell-beast.
The monster spun and whipped its tail about. Jack lost his footing but not his grip. He flew about in the air in a wide arc before he had to let go. When he did, he cried out in frustration and rage and crashed into a pile of men’s jackets that cushioned his fall.
Again the Hell-beast loomed above him. This time, he lacked even the crossbow with which to defend himself. Nor did he have time to draw his knives or check the weapons in the duffel bag that still draped over his shoulder. He could only catch the Hell-beast by its left and right throats and grit his teeth in anger as he strained to keep its jaws away from him.
The Hell-beast bore down on him. It snarled and drooled and glared with demonic red eyes that looked like the madness of all the souls trapped in Hell. Its front feet, viciously clawed, were pressing on Jack’s chest. The weight of the creature was so great that Jack struggled to breathe. He knew that he couldn’t keep it at bay for much longer, but even then he wouldn’t give up.
He snarled and glared back at it with every ounce of hate he possessed and twisted his face out of range of the middle head. He was not just holding the other heads back, but was doing his level best to crush its dual windpipes in his fists.
Despite his best efforts, he accepted that he lacked the raw strength to do real damage. He just hoped that Lennox would have enough time to save the child.
As the weight on his chest became too great to bear and the edges of his vision started to go dark, he heard the distinctive sound of Lennox casting a spell.
Once more, the words offended him on a visceral level. They made him nauseous, but that didn’t stop him from smiling.
“Get off me you foul piece of garbage!” he grated.
Then Lennox’s Hellfire detonation caught the Hell-beast squarely on the side.
It was a blast at least equal to the one she had used against the wight in Coven Street station. It lifted the Hell-beast off Jack as easily as a hurricane wind lifted a trampoline and hurled it over toward the window.
This time, her aim was better. Jack caught only the very edge of her blast. He tumbled a short way and used the momentum to regain his feet. With the weight of the Hell-beast no longer crushing his chest, he drew a deep breath that tasted as sweet as the relief he felt from Amelia’s presence. But the monster wasn’t down for the count as the wight had been. Even now, it scrabbled to its feet and screeched in rage.
Lennox had come to stand beside Jack. She no longer had the child with her. Instead, she was aiming the shotgun.
Bang! She fired at the Hell-beast, catching it high on the shoulder. The mixture of holy water, garlic salts, and sage worked as they should. Almost at once, the Hell-beast’s flesh started to sizzle, and it let out another shriek of pain.
Buoyed by this success, Lennox fired again. Bang! And again. Bang! And again. Bang!
All three shots made an impact, but the Hell-beast was amazingly tough. The air filled with the foul steam of its putrescence, but the beast was a long way from defeated. It shrieked again and charged straight at them. Lennox and Jack had no choice but to dive to the side. They were like bullfighters facing a foe far more fearsome than any bull. The Hell-beast clattered to a halt near the escalator and turned to face them again.
Lennox and Jack were both quick to get to their feet. Lennox fired off another blast as the Hell-beast glared at them. Bang!
“How do we kill this thing?” Lennox demanded as she aimed the shotgun again, a tremor of real fear in her voice.
Bang!
Jack had wondered the same thing. “Keep it busy!” he yelled and turned to his duffel bag.
Lennox tr
ied to fire again, but the shotgun was empty. She swore and hurled the weapon toward the Hell-beast, which snorted loudly, preparing to charge once again. “The boom box!” Lennox cried. “Nate said this thing is susceptible to music!”
Jack had been reaching for the grenade launcher. Instead, he pulled out the small square chunk of electronic plastic and pressed the play button. The grenade launcher wasn’t the most accurate weapon. If music could slow the monster down, Jack would be able to jam the grenade launcher’s muzzle down one of its throats.
The department store had become a ruin. There were broken shelves and clothes and cosmetics and toys strewn all over. The air was thick with the disgusting miasma of sulfur and decay, mixed with the pungent scent of fifty different perfumes. The Hell-beast snorted and pawed the floor like an enraged bull preparing to charge, and Lennox and Jack were madly doing all they could to send it back to Hell.
Within all this chaos, the delicate tones of soothing harp music filled the air.
It was incongruous, like a moment of peace within a storm or a single pure note within the cacophony of untalented teenagers trying to riff on electric guitars. It was haunting and comforting and relaxing all at once, and it did indeed seem to work. The Hell-beast no longer looked ready to pounce. Instead, it looked uncertain. Confused, almost. Its horrific heads tilted to the side as if it was trying to listen.
Perhaps music did indeed soothe this particular, savage beast.
Even Amelia seemed surprised. “How about that?” she murmured in Jack’s mind.
Lennox breathed an audible sigh of relief, and Jack reached for the grenade launcher. He took his eyes from the Hell-beast for only a moment, and at that moment the monster shrieked and charged again.
“Look out!” Amelia shouted.
Jack didn’t pause to watch. He just threw himself to the side, crashing painfully into the twisted wreckage of a clothing stand. But the Hell-beast wasn’t after him. Instead, it charged at Lennox, catching her a glancing blow that nevertheless sent her flying.
“Lex!” Jack bellowed. He didn’t see where she landed and feared for her safety. He wanted only to go to her and make sure that she was all right. But he knew that if he did that, he would be giving the Hell-beast time to start another attack.
Jack felt as frustrated and full of hate and rage as ever he had been in his life. Somehow, he had gained his feet once again. Blood throbbed in his temples, and he gritted his teeth. His fury was burning him up from the inside, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if he spewed fire with his breath. It felt like the demon inside him was trying to awaken, to reach out and take control. He felt like he could spit acid, like his curses would take root and grow.
He could feel Amelia’s anxiety surging within him, but he had no attention to spare. The Hell-beast had cast Lennox aside as if she were nothing. Even now, it stood next to the window with saliva dripping from its gaping jaws and the steam of holy water still rising from its back. It was moments away from attacking again, and this time Lennox would be unable to do anything to protect herself.
Nor did Jack have anything more than his knives to fight with, and they were woefully inadequate for the task. The crossbow was somewhere on the shop floor, and the grenade launcher still lay within the depths of the duffel bag, a body length away.
Yet Jack couldn’t abide Lennox being in danger. She was the only person who had come close to waking his soul since the death of his wife. And it was his job to protect her. In that, he would not fail.
With his hate and fury matched by his determination, Jack hurled himself back to the duffel bag.
“Lex, stay down!” Jack cried out at the top of his lungs. He still couldn’t see her and feared the worst, but that didn’t stop him. In a single movement, he dug out the grenade launcher and fired toward the Hell-beast, well away from where Lennox should be.
The grenade arced through the air toward the Hell-beast as if in slow motion. Jack readied himself to fire again. The grenade launcher looked like a massive revolver with three chambers in the cylinder. A canvas strap dangled from it that would allow him to sling it over his shoulder at need. It was worryingly inaccurate, and for his second shot, Jack took careful aim. The act of firing had turned the cylinder, so he just needed to pull the trigger. He did so, and with a dull popping sound that was far less impressive than the blast of a shotgun, a second grenade also sailed through the air.
The Hell-beast uttered another of its terrifying screams. It was so loud that it threatened to shake the department store from its foundations. Jack feared that the first grenade was going to miss – he’d aimed a little wide and short as well. But the second was on target.
Jack dropped to the floor and did his best to protect himself, hoping that Lennox would be safe from the blast.
A fraction of a second later, the first grenade exploded.
Boom!
A flash of light hit him first, followed by a concussive blast that felt like a wall falling on him. Then, almost immediately, the second grenade went off.
Boom!
Injuries
“Jack! Wake up!” Amelia cried. But her words were faint and far away. They didn’t mean anything to him. And anyway, she shouldn’t be shouting. She was with him, lying comfortably on the grass on a bank of the Styx, New Sanctum’s largest river. It was one of the most perfect days Jack had ever had.
From the moment they met, Amelia’s combination of beauty, natural calm, and ready laughter soothed Jack’s soul, and he would have been content to stay there forever….
“Jack!”
The scene shifted. Jack and Amelia were in her bedroom, making love to the tune of relaxing ambient music from her stereo. It was another perfect moment, and Jack knew he would always remember the electric feel of her skin and the gentle urgency of her efforts.
He lay back, enjoying the weight of her on top of him, her lithe athleticism, and the sight of her perfect, rounded breasts. Amelia’s hands gripped his shoulders, and he added his strength to hers with his hands on her hips, crushing her against him. As she moved, a slow smile spread over her lips and her eyes sparkled.
It was more than Jack could take. He let out a roar that was completely at odds with the ambient music. In one athletic movement and without disengaging, he flipped her onto her back and began to pound like a wild thing, as if his demon had taken control.
Amelia let out a squeal of laughter and then clutched at him, her fingernails raking his back like claws…
“Jackson Kade!”
The scene changed again, but only subtly. Instead of Amelia beneath him, it was Lennox. His beautiful partner responded to his animalistic need with her own, and they moved against each other with wild abandon.
As Jack’s urgency increased, he understood it all to be a dream, although perhaps with a hint of prophecy. Nor were Jack and Lennox alone in Amelia’s bedroom. Even in the throes of passion, he sensed something monstrous and demonic nearby.
Jack tried to shut his mind to the monstrous thing and return to his enjoyment, but Amelia wouldn’t let him.
“Jack! You have to wake up NOW!”
He had no choice. Amelia’s shout was too loud and urgent to ignore. It ripped him from Lennox’s arms and dumped him unceremoniously back into the present.
Feeling groggy and disoriented, his dreams still hovering in the edges of his mind, Jack opened his eyes.
“That’s better,” Amelia said. “Now, you have to finish this.” Then, as if sensing it would motivate him, she added, “Lennox is in danger.”
It was enough to anchor Jack back in the world of the living.
The grenades had made an impact. There was a searing pain in Jack’s left leg and his whole body ached. His head rang as if someone had pounded on it with hammers. He couldn’t hear anything more than his own heart beating in his ears and a high-pitched whine that wouldn’t stop. The whole world smelled like hot metal and ozone.
Somehow, he had the impression that it was raining.
> The grenades had been much more powerful than he expected. The shock of the blasts had been akin to Lennox’s demon magic and then some. Yet that didn’t mean they had done the job.
It didn’t mean that the Hell-beast was dead.
Jack groaned and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He looked around. The department store had filled with dust and debris, and there was a huge, blackened hole where the Hell-beast had been. Many of the windows had been blown open. And somehow it was raining, but gently instead of a torrent. It took Jack a few seconds to realize that the explosions had triggered the fire sprinklers and that maybe they had been damaged. They were releasing far less water than he might have expected.
The Hell-beast had vanished. Ignoring the pain in his leg, Jack climbed unsteadily to his feet with the grenade launcher still in his hands. He intended to check the blackened hole where the Hell-beast had been, but not yet. He had a different priority.
“Lex!” he called out, the word sounding to him as if he was shouting into a pillow. “Lex! Where are you?” Usually, his voice came out either flat or filled with rage and hate. But this time, despite how muffled it seemed, he could hear the distinct tone of anxiety within it.
The image he’d had of her, naked in Amelia’s bed, flickered through his mind. He banished it, then lurched mechanically toward where he’d seen Lennox land.
“Interesting,” Amelia murmured. But she didn’t say anything else.
Despite everything, Jack felt a moment of embarrassment that his wife had caught the image. He didn’t have time for such distraction and banished this as well.
“Lex?” he called again. He wiped the moisture building up on his face with his sleeve.
