Suddenly, out of the foliage, leaped Dr Hasdruban – wearing his usual white suit and hat, white cane in hand. From behind a tree, the White Witch also stepped.
‘Dumpsy Deary!’ said Dirk. That was the name that Dirk used to call the White Witch when she’d been his nanny, way back when. A nanny sent by Hasdruban to kill him, mind you, but still. Things had changed a lot since then, though, obviously.
‘Now we’ve got you, Evil One!’ yelled Hasdruban.
Dirk looked up in surprise, but rapidly regained his composure. ‘Oh yeah, and what spell are you going to try now, you old fool?’ he said dismissively.
‘Spell? I’m not going to bother with magic,’ said Dr Hasdruban silkily. He grabbed the top of his cane with his other hand, twisted it until it clicked and drew out a long, thin, steel blade. ‘Oh no, this time I’m going to get you once and for all, spawn of evil!’
Dirk’s jaw dropped in horror. Two adults, one with a sword, versus a thirteen-year-old boy? No fair. But then again…maybe Dirk could even the odds a little. Quickly he reached for the cello case.
‘What, you’re going to play the cello, and hope to soothe my vengeful rage, is that it, Dark One?’ laughed Hasdruban.
‘Oh no, better than that,’ said Dirk, and he ripped the case open. Out leaped Skinrash with a blast of stinking air. Dirk reeled back in disgust – Hasdruban gagged, staggering for a moment, overcome by the fumes. The White Witch, standing behind him was far enough away not to be affected, though her face, Dirk noted, was a mask of uncertainty. Perhaps she wasn’t so keen on the idea of spitting a thirteenyear-old schoolboy with a sword.
‘Defend me, my minion, from that murdering madman, Hasdruban the White!’ said Dirk as loud as he could, in the hope Gargon or Rufino were in earshot.
Dr Hasdruban, recovered from the stench-blast, narrowed his eyes. ‘A nasty little Goblin!’ he said, turning to the White Witch. ‘Don’t tell me he’s just a boy – do boys have Goblin bodyguards, eh? Do they?’
The White Witch gave a noncommittal shrug. Skinrash, meanwhile, blinking in the bright sunlight, took one look at Hasdruban, said, ‘Oh no, it’s the White Wiz hi-self!’ and took to his heels as fast as he could.
Just like that. He was gone.
Dirk couldn’t believe it! ‘Why, you little…’ was all he managed to get out before Hasdruban laughed out loud.
‘There is no loyalty amongst the evil,’ he said, brandishing his blade.
Dirk thought about turning tail and running too, but instead, thinking fast, he reached into a pocket and drew out one of the Anathema Crystals. Hasdruban leaped forward, Dirk leaped back, and threw the Crystal at the Wizard’s feet where it shattered, giving off a cloud of wispy, white, diamond-dust smoke.
Hasdruban stopped, surprised.
‘What the…? Oh, I see. Hah, clever, Evil One, clever – but not clever enough, I’m afraid! They won’t work here on earth, oh no!’ With that, he cut at Dirk with the blade. Reflexively, Dirk put an arm up, and the sword sliced down across it.
‘Argh!’ screamed Dirk.
Hasdruban laughed in triumph, but the White Witch put a hand over her mouth, clearly shocked at the way things were going. Dirk didn’t really have time to think about that. He staggered back, bleeding from his arm, as Hasdruban stepped forward again, blade raised high. Dirk, thinking on his feet, whipped his arm forward, unleashing a spray of blood right into Hasdruban’s eyes!
‘Aiieee!’ cried the Wizard, temporarily blinded. That gave Dirk a moment’s respite. He was about to run, when suddenly a huge figure crashed down out of the sky to land between Hasdruban and Dirk.
‘Gargon, thank the Dark Gods!’ sighed Dirk.
‘You no kill my master!’ bellowed Gargon with a voice like iron filings in a blender turned up to eleven. Hasdruban, desperately trying to clear his vision, squinted up at Gargon.
‘Get ye gone, foul demon of the night!’ he cried, raising one hand and gesturing as if casting some kind of spell. The White Witch darted forward, angry now, ready to defend her master. Rufino also came running on to the scene, followed by Chris and Sooz close behind.
‘Hah, your White Words, your so-called holy magic won’t work here, Hasdruban! Gargon will tear you to pieces!’ shouted a triumphant Dirk.
Gargon roared again, and raised his weapon high over his head to bring it crashing down on Hasdruban’s skull. Dirk looked up at Gargon with gleeful relish and anticipation. Now that meddling Wizard would pay for cutting him! No one cuts the Dark Lord and gets away with it!
But then Dirk saw what Gargon had in his hands. A large guitar…
‘Wait, Gargon, NO!’ said Dirk, coming to his senses. Everyone froze for a moment. The headmaster, face splattered with blood, looking more like an old man than a great Wizard, thin cane sword held up in pitiful defence; the White Witch, moving in front of him, trying to shield him, a huge winged demon, face a mask of murderous intent, raised arms ready to crush the old man; and Rufino rushing in, with two children behind him.
‘No, we can’t do this, Gargon,’ continued Dirk.
Gargon frowned. ‘What you mean? It’s him, Hasdruban. We never get this chance again, Gargon smash him!’
‘No, no, he’s also the headmaster. We can’t… I mean, I’m not the Dark…it’s Earth…you know,’ said Dirk tailing off in confusion.
Hasdruban stared at Dirk in amazement. The White Witch began scribbling a note.
Sooz said, ‘He’s right, Gargon. We can’t beat the headmaster to death with a guitar. It’s just not done.’
‘If my Queen say so, then Gargon agree,’ he said, and he lowered the guitar.
The White Witch handed a note to Hasdruban, who barely noticed. He was staring at Dirk in astonishment, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
‘What? Oh!’ he said, taking the note. Quickly he read it. He frowned for a moment, but then he turned to the White Witch and spat out, ‘Hah, how can he be just a boy? Look, he’s got Gargon with him. Gargon!’
Meanwhile, Rufino, Sooz and Chris rushed over to Dirk, who was swaying on his feet. Quickly, Rufino began bandaging up Dirk’s arm.
‘It’s not deep, just a flesh wound,’ said Rufino, ‘no need to worry. Well, unless…’ and he flicked a glance over at Hasdruban. ‘Was the cane sword poisoned?’ he asked.
Hasdruban looked over at him, a look of contempt on his face. ‘Bah, the traitor speaks. No, of course not. I am the White Wizard, I do not use poison!’
‘That’s not what I heard,’ said Dirk loudly. ‘I mean, what happened to the last White Wizard, the one you took over from? What did he die of?’
‘How dare you! I’ll kill you, kill you!!!’ shrieked Hasdruban, stepping forward, but Gargon blocked his way and growled.
‘Bit sensitive about that, are we?’ said Dirk with a grin, despite the pain he was suffering.
Hasdruban gritted his teeth angrily. But then he looked up at Gargon, blinked, and stepped back.
‘Mexican standoff,’ said Chris.
‘Yeah,’ said Sooz. ‘Nothing else is going to happen here – I say we all walk away. We take our wounded boy, you go home.’
Hasdruban took a white hanky from his pocket and began to clean the blood off his face. The White Witch tugged at his sleeve, nodding.
Hasdruban shook his head, uncertain.
‘I could have you killed, you know. Here and now,’ said Dirk.
‘Think about that,’ said Sooz, worried that Dirk might change his mind and decide to do just that. ‘Think about it, and maybe we can come to a truce, or peace even. Peace would be good, don’t you think?’
The White Witch nodded even more vigorously. Hasdruban looked at her, frowning angrily. He put a hand up to his head, thinking.
But then slashed it down emphatically. ‘Bah, Witch, you have become weak,’ he shouted into her face, before turning to Dirk and the rest. ‘As for you, this is some kind of trick. You’re scared! Scared of what would happen if you murdered the headmaster and his deputy
, scared of the humans and their “policemen”, that is all!’
‘No,’ said Sooz, ‘he’s changed, he really has, he’s not the Dark Lord any more!’
‘Oh, please, why should I listen to you? The Moon Queen? Wielder of the Great Ring? You are as corrupt as he, both of you, children of darkness, you are, steeped in evil! No, better to destroy you utterly, for the benefit of all!’
Dirk shook his head in despair. ‘It’s useless, Sooz,’ he said. ‘He’s quite mad!’
The White Witch pulled on Hasdruban’s sleeve, trying to drag him away. Hasdruban, glancing over at Gargon and Rufino, allowed himself to be led but not before he’d got one final word in.
‘This isn’t finished, oh no,’ he shouted, ‘not finished at all!’
At last Dirk made it back to his room, the earthly equivalent of his Inner Sanctum in the Iron Tower. He leaned back against the door and rubbed his arm. It was painful but he’d had worse. Twelve stitches. All done by Dr Jack at home. Dirk had claimed he’d been cutting some bread and slipped, slicing his arm on the bread knife. But he’d overheard Mr and Mrs Purejoie talking about him afterwards, and worrying that maybe he’d done it himself to get attention or something. Hah! Dark Lords don’t harm themselves, it’s other people they harm, didn’t they realise that? Still, no doubt they’d tell Wings and Randle about it, and they’d start asking stupid questions about why and when he’d started and all the rest.
A sudden noise from the cupboard caught Dirk’s attention. A kind of snuffling, gobbling sound. Skinrash! ‘That little…’ muttered Dirk as he wrenched the door open. And there was the Goblin, blinking up at him, mouth stuffed with chocolate cake.
Dirk narrowed his eyes. ‘You coward!’ he said accusingly.
Skinrash cringed down into the corner of the cupboard. ‘I know, I know, I’m sorry, your Majesticness, but I’m only a poor little gobber and old Whitey – he can blast twenny gobbers into pieces wiv his staff! I seen it!’
Dirk sighed. That was true. He’d seen it as well. Except that his terrible magic didn’t work here on earth.
But Skinrash wasn’t to know that.
‘Please don’ kill me, Master, please don’ kill me!’ begged Skinrash, holding his chocolate-covered hands up pleadingly.
Dirk looked down at him. His warty face was covered in chocolate – it was even stuck to the hair on his moles. And his knees were shaking. The poor little fellow was greedy, yes, but also obviously terrified. Dirk shook his head. Once, when he had been an actual Dark Lord, he might well have killed him. Or put him in the Dungeons of Doom or something. But now, he just didn’t have the heart.
‘Oh, stop it, Skinrash, really. I won’t kill you, I promise.’
Skinrash darted forward and hugged Dirk around the knees. ‘Thank you, Master, thank you for sparing poor old Skinrash!’ he burbled.
Dirk closed his eyes in resigned dismay. His trousers were now thoroughly smeared with chocolate.
‘Where did you get the cake from?’ said Dirk.
‘Downstairs cupboard,’ said Skinrash.
‘Did anyone see you?’ said Dirk, unable to suppress a grin. Goblins were just naughty chaos-bringers, really. And Dark Lords quite liked chaos.
‘More importantly,’ added Dirk, ‘did anyone see you in the town? How’d you get back here?’
‘Over the ’oomans’ rooftops, your Ultimateness,’ said Skinrash with rising confidence, now that he was sure he wasn’t going to be punished. ‘No one saw me, no one at all, I made sure of it, Dark Master!’
‘OK then, Skinrash. I forgive you, though it’ll be me that gets the blame for stealing the cake, I’ll bet,’ said Dirk.
‘Maybe you can blame that other kid,’ said Skinrash. ‘That’s the Darklands way, after all, your Supreme Evilness.’
‘Hah, hah, yes it is, Skinrash. Good idea! Now get back in that cupboard. It’s time for bed, and I’m exhausted.’
‘Bad day, eh, Sire?’
‘I’ll say! I’ve dragged a Goblin in a cello case halfway across town, had my arm hacked open by a crazed Wizard from another world and then stitched up again by my foster-father who thinks I did it to myself deliberately, and after all that, I get smeared with sticky chocolate. I think that counts as a bad day, don’t you?’
November 23rd, 2013 Rip-out-their-hearts 23rd
Issue two of the Dark Times available now!
‘My name is Dirk but you may call me Master.’
Dirk Lloyd
TODAY’S HORRORSCOPE
Virgo Good-for-sacrifices – Today, I predict that you will read your horoscope. Amazingly, it will tell you what you are doing at this precise moment! You are reading your horoscope.
Sagittarius Arrow-in-the-heart – Whatever you do, don’t eat a banana today! If you do, it will explode, leaving your mouth and face covered in unpleasant banana mush, and then people will laugh at you. If they aren’t already, of course.
Pisces Stinkyfish – You are slowly turning into a fish. Soon, you will feel an uncontrollable urge to swim in the sea. You will do so and never be seen again by humankind. Examine your neck. How are those gills coming along?
Aquarius Waterygrave – Be careful, for there is a wormhole in space-time near where you are walking. If you step on it, you will be propelled to an alien planet where giant molluscs with helium-filled shells float in a steamy sky and the earth is covered in a carpet of squidworms. You will not like it. Not only that, you’ll miss dinner.
Capricorn Smellygoat – You will get a job. Maybe not today, but some day. Probably. Who says horoscopes aren’t accurate?
LETTERS WITH THE AUNT OF AGONY
Dear Aunt of Agony,
My dad appears to be mutating into some kind of half-man, half-frog creature. I am worried now that it might happen to me. What shall I do?
Yours,
Kermit Webfoot
Dear Kermit,
Don’t worry, I know all about your family, the Webfoots. It’s quite normal for you guys to turn into frogs, as you’re all a bunch of mutant freaks. Just try not to eat too many flies, they’re really unsanitary.
Yours Sneeringly,
The Aunt of Agony
Dear Aunt of Agony,
I have recently taken over the headmastership of a large comprehensive. However, some of the pupils are so difficult to deal with, that I can’t seem to clear my head to think.
What should I do?
Yours,
Dr Hasdruban
Dear Dr Hasdruban
Stick your head down the toilet and flush it. That will clear your mind. Trust me, it works.
Yours Sneeringly,
The Aunt of Agony
Dear Aunt of Agony,
How do I make a potion of mind control?
Yours,
Laura Wibblebottom
Dear Laura
A handful of Hogweed, harvested at midnight on All Soul’s Eve, some ground-up bonemeal of a convict hanged at a crossroads (any part of the skeleton will do), a little salt water, and three feathers from a Storm Crow.
Yours Sneeringly,
The Aunt of Agony ps Good luck with finding that lot!
This issue of the Dark Times
brought to you by the Great Dirk!
Yours Unfaithfully,
I, the Dark Lord, Master of the Legions of Dread and
Sorcerer Supreme, etc etc
The next morning, Dirk made his way downstairs for breakfast, nursing his bandaged arm. Dirk paused by the dining room. Mr and Mrs Purejoie were deep in conversation with Chris.
‘We know it was you,’ said Mrs Purejoie.
‘No, no, it wasn’t,’ said Chris emphatically.
‘It’s really hurtful that you’d lie to us like this, Christopher!’ said Dr Purejoie. ‘After all, we found the remains of the cake in your room.’
‘You could have just asked us for cake, you didn’t have to steal it, dear,’ said Mrs Purejoie. ‘But what’s worse is lying about it.’
Dirk walked on by, trying
not to attract any attention. Chris spotted him, though, and stared at him, eyes narrowing. Dirk couldn’t help himself and the corner of his mouth went up. It was all he could do to stop himself from laughing out loud.
‘Well, what have you got to say for yourself?’ said Dr Purejoie.
Chris sighed. Dirk had obviously tricked him. Better to just get it over with. He said, ‘All right, it was me! I did it, I took the cake, stuffed it all, and left a bit in my drawer. Of course I did. Now, can I go please?’
‘All right, then, Chris, at least you came clean about it,’ said Mrs Purejoie, ‘But we’re not done yet. It is time for school, and we have to go to work, but we’re going to have to talk about this later.’
The Purejoies, faces solemn and serious, as if Chris had been arrested for robbing a bank or something,got the children ready for school.The whole time, Chris stared at Dirk suspiciously, whilst it took all of Dirk’s Dark Lord willpower not to laugh and laugh and laugh.
‘So,’ said Chris, once they were on their own and walking to school. ‘Thanks for stitching me up – very funny. But why? That’s what I don’t get.’
‘I’m sorry, Chris, but I had to deflect attention from me – and Skinrash,’ said Dirk.
‘Skin rash? What rash? A curse-from-Hasdruban type rash?’
And Dirk explained to Chris about Skinrash the Goblin, how he’d used the Essence to create his Shadowshades, how Agrash had sent him a Spirit Bottle, and that he’d got a Goblin hiding in the cupboard and how Skinrash had run off and then stolen the cake and stuffed it all just like a typical Goblin.
‘You could have told me about it first,’ said Chris. ‘I’d probably have taken the rap rather than have Mum and Dad finding a Goblin in your cupboard. I get that that would be bad, I’m not stupid, you know!’
Eternal Detention Page 6
