Tortured Souls (Broken Souls Book 2)

by Richard Hein

  Contents

  Title

  About the Author

  Chapter 01

  Chapter 02

  Chapter 03

  Chapter 04

  Chapter 05

  Chapter 06

  Chapter 07

  Chapter 08

  Chapter 09

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Other Books by the Author

  Tortured Souls : A Broken Souls Novel

  Copyright © 2017 by Richard Hein

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  Richard Hein was born in the Pacific Northwest in the late 70s, though he spent some time living in Wisconsin and Illinois before moving back to Washington with his family in 1987. He's lived in the scenic Skagit Valley since then.

  Interest in writing began early by writing stories for his classmates in Kindergarten, winning a young-authors award in the Sixth Grade, and spending much of his high school classes writing instead of learning.

  Chapter 1

  Hanging upside-down and pinned to a wall by my ankles, I had to admit it was sometimes hard to get a perspective on things. The creature that held me gave a shake of its too-long arms, slapping me hard against the steel warehouse wall. My vision flashed red. The thing leaned in, looking like a tall, skinny man that had shed its skin and painted the underlying muscles a twilight gray. Its head twisted around almost upside-down so it could meet my eyes.

  “Do not that again,” it growled, punctuating the statement by slapping me against the wall once more. Its breath smelled like it had eaten every set of dirty gym clothes I’d ever owned.

  I’m Samuel Walker, and I beat up the things that go bump in the night.

  Generally, anyway. Sometimes you slap the bad guy around, sometimes it grabs you by the ankle, hefts you half a dozen feet off the ground and breathes rotten socks into your face.

  “You’re a big, strapping, uh, demon thing,” I said. My face was flushed, the blood rushing down into my head. “You can handle it.”

  Its skinless lips peeled back to reveal a dozen needle teeth, looking like a drunken orthodontist placed them there. Its free hand hefted the weapon it had pried from my grasp, a collapsible baton. Fingers twice as long as a normal human’s bounced it for a second before sweeping the rounded tip at me. It pressed hard into my cheek. I twitched at the sudden and sharp pressure, hissing as new pain flooded through me.

  Something stirred in the back of my mind. Angry and vicious, it clawed to get out.

  I almost felt I should apologize to the damned thing holding me. The thing wasn’t even a priority anymore as a twisting sensation writhing like a wet eel in my mind drew my full attention. I sucked in a slow breath through my nose and tried to focus on nothing in particular.

  Ten. I thought. Nine.

  My body swayed, arms stretched out above me toward the ground. Dusk had blanketed the alley, with a single orange industrial light above the nearby warehouse pushing back the gloom. The detritus-strewn alley stretched out to darkness away from us to my left and right. Above… well, below me, anyway… I could just make out the roiling gray clouds, the last vestiges of daylight highlighting their edges.

  Eight. Seven. Six.

  I let my breath hiss out in a measured pace. The anger at the back of my thoughts thrashed, begging for release. Muscle Man dragged the tip of my baton toward my chin and around to my neck. Pain blossomed there as it pressed hard. Still, I wasn’t concerned.

  I was more worried about what would happen if I gave into the true monster in this alley — that rage seething beneath the surface.

  Five.

  “Many seek your blood, Walker,” it said, pressing harder. I swallowed, fingers curling as I struggled to control myself. “You lack strength. Your allies lie slain and all know it was your fault.” Its maw slid forward, hovering beside one of my ears, its body contorted in a way that bones and tendons shouldn’t ever try. “You are alone.”

  The placid pool I’d tried to form of my emotions rippled and exploded. Fourthreetwoone, I thought slamming one fist across the creature’s face. Given I was hanging by my shoes I had little leverage, but I poured every bit of rage into the blow. It was like punching raw, oily steak. My fist rocked its head back.

  The thing reeled back, yanking me from the wall with a negligent flick of that exposed muscle. Turns out that muscle wasn’t just for show. The grimy alley spun as the monster flung me. I had a second of vertigo as I flashed sideways like a drunken gymnast and I impacted an identical warehouse across the way. I’m pretty sure the metal bent as I slammed into it. My breath exploded out of me, and I slumped down into a delightful mush of ruptured trash bags.

  “Ow,” I wheezed. My entire left side felt like a single bruise as I pushed up to a sitting position.

  Muscle Man shrieked, a symphony of roars at different octaves blending into a horrific cacophony. It planted a foot on the wall I’d just been pinned against and kicked. The creature flashed across the alley, one clawed hand open to tear out my throat while the other lined up my own enchanted baton to play a jaunty drum solo on my skull.

  “Shit,” I muttered and rolled into action.

  I let my momentum carry me up to my feet, slipping only for a second in the muck. Muscle Man landed and lashed out, raking claws tugging on my jacket and yanking me off balance. Rather than coming up in a fighting stance, I pirouetted as its attack pulled me and stumbled into the center of the alley. The beast rebounded faster than I’d expected, legs compressing beneath it. Bones snapped and coiled for a heartbeat before they exploded back into proper shape, and the creature burst toward me.

  I grinned as I skipped back, this time sure of my footing. Muscle Man hit the ground and kicked out with one leg, the appendage distending. It grew another two feet, the bones of its six toes lengthening into claws. Crap. That was new. I flung myself to the side, back toward the first warehouse, and gave a silent prayer of thanks that no one had left any trash there.

  “Why don’t you fight, Walker?” it growled, retracting the leg and hunkering down.

  “I’m stalling for time,” I said with a shrug.

  Muscle Man’s head snapped around toward the steel door embedded in the warehouse I’d landed beside. A single buzzing light cast a soft glow around it. The monstrosity had made its nest there, preparing to spread its infection into the hapless humans inside.

  As if on cue, the door slammed open, two figures stepping into the alley. Kate and Daniel appeared, both in the same state as I was, clothes torn with a hint of blood to top it off.

  “Everyone safe?” I asked. Muscle Man leveled its gaze back on me, black eyes narrowing.

  “You dare—” the demon began. I held out a hand toward Daniel, who slapped a gas canister into it. One pull of the ring, a gentle underhand lob, and a cloud of thick purple smoke roiled around Muscle Man. Claws clacked on asphalt as it thrashed in the cloud. It wouldn’t kill it, but it would sting for a bit. A gift from Sanctuary, a bit of extra-dimensional magic in a neat little gas grenade.

  “Civilians saved,” Kate confirmed with an enthusiastic grin, watching as Muscle Man tried to clear the haze. Her close-cropped dark hair gave her an intimidating look. She wore cargo pants and a black, close-fitting t-shirt, trying
to seem paramilitary, but failing to lose the hot librarian look thanks to her enormous glasses.

  She propped the door open with one boot, and a half dozen figures in bedraggled clothing stumbled out. Either the beast that had corralled them within was scarier than the thing I was facing, or their emotional batteries had drained. A few spared a shocked glance down the alley at my foe before running for the street.

  The smoke dissipated. Daniel looked Muscle Man up and down without a hint of emotion. He straightened the tie poking above his cream-colored vest, a sharp contrast to his dark skin. He rested a hand on his gun, nestled in a holster on his belt next to his last gas cylinder. Once I would have thought it an absurd look, but time had hardened him.

  A little, anyway. The illusion shattered when he spoke. “We, uh, exorcised two little ones guarding them, Samuel. It is safe.”

  “Good,” I said, and cracked my knuckles for effect. My smile matched Kate’s.

  Muscle Man’s body shuddered as it coiled and shot through the last wisps of purple smoke. This time I charged forward, throwing myself right at it. We hit in a bone-jarring impact. The creature shoved me to the pavement, slapping my baton down at me.

  I caught its wrist. Pain erupted in my hand at the force of the blow, but I gritted my teeth against it.

  “One ticket out of here, asshole,” I muttered. I flung my will at it, throwing myself into that pool of emotion I’d tried so hard to bottle up only moments before. Anger flooded into me, sweet and hot and vicious, and I pushed that thing out of our universe and back to its home. Muscle Man vanished with a pop of displaced air.

  My baton tumbled, free from any grip, and slapped against my face. I growled.

  “Are you playing with your food now, Samuel?” Kate asked as she walked over and offered me a hand. I glared at it for a second, took a breath and let her help me. With effort, I counted down from ten once more. This time it worked. A dull ache eased from my shoulders, and I felt clear again.

  “I wanted to be sure you guys had enough time to sneak in and free the others,” I said, dusting myself off. Viscous muck sloughed off my pants and coated my hands. Ugh.

  “Had you dispatched the creature,” Daniel said, fetching up my baton and offering it to me, “you would have had plenty of time to come help us.”

  I blinked. Why hadn’t I sent the thing packing right away? I’d taken my sweet time and the thing had ripped me off my feet. In retrospect, tossing it out with the rest of the garbage seemed smarter.

  Not as fun though. I shrugged a silent excuse.

  “You’re shaking the rust off your skills at least,” Kate noted. “Six months ago you could barely exorcise a little old granny. You tossed Meatsicle there out quick once you got your hands on it.”

  “Muscle Man,” I corrected, waving a hand at the spot it had vacated. “Meatsicle sounds like a disgusting after-school snack.”

  “Plus you get the alliterative effect,” Daniel added.

  Kate rolled her eyes at us.

  “Seriously,” I said. “I’m the boss. When you do the report, write in ‘Muscle Man’.”

  She waved a hand at me dismissively and turned away. Daniel lingered for another moment, watching me with analytical silence. He turned and joined Kate, walking toward the end of the alley and where I’d parked my car. I suppressed a sigh.

  What did they expect? It’s not like I could tell them I'm possessed and had my very own demon digging around in my head. How would that conversation go? My dead maybe ex-girlfriend’s demonic-fragmented soul is riding shotgun, and that lets me kick shit out of our universe with the snap of my fingers.

  No. Just… no.

  I jogged to catch up to them and glanced sideways at Kate.

  “Admit it,” I said. “Your timing was too convenient. Your dramatic entrance. You were waiting and listening, weren’t you?”

  I saw the hint of a smile in the fading twilight. “That would be irresponsible, Grand Poobah Samuel.”

  “It would be, Intern Kate,” I said, unable to stop my grin. “Yet thematically appropriate.”

  “Kate is picking up bad habits,” Daniel said.

  We strode out of the alley. Giant steel warehouses lined the street, vague shapes growing out of the darkness, lit only by occasional anemic light from too-few street lamps. The only car was mine, a recent replacement for the one destroyed by a demon six months back. It was still a Nissan Sentra, but this one was an ugly shade of green vomit. I paused long enough to collapse my baton by bashing it against the street and then unlocked doors for everyone.

  Even as the leader of the Ordo Felix Culpa, I didn’t have enough money to buy power locks. Some things remained a luxury.

  “Oh, lighten up, Daniel,” Kate said. “We stopped the bad guys and saved little old innocents. That’s what matters.” She paused and smiled. “Also kicking ass. That’s important.” She held up a fist. I grinned and rapped her knuckles with mine.

  Kate had grown in the last sixth months. She’d taken to the lifestyle like a nerd to dice. I’d seen no one steep themselves in the new world they’d just discovered so thoroughly. Usually there was a period of mute shock and disbelief. Kate, though… I stared at her for a moment. She’d lived a lonely life. As far as I knew, after the car accident that had claimed her parents and put Swiss-cheese holes in her memory, she’d only had her brother. No friends, no social life, not even a job. Maybe she was making up for lost time. Maybe.

  I eased into the car. Kate slid into the passenger seat as I adjusted my rear view mirror. A restrained glower filled Daniel's face. I suppressed another sigh. Since we’d fought and barely cast out the Archangel Michael, he’d become withdrawn. The kid had always been by the book, but now he gloried in it, clutching the rules as a talisman. I tried not to blame him. I’d used magic, a thing forbidden by every one of those books he insisted on clinging to, and despite saving his life, it never sat well with him.

  Or his attitude shift could be from the slaughter of every single one of his coworkers by a host of angels. He wasn’t lacking for reasons here.

  We rode in silence, the skyscrapers of Seattle sliding away as I wound us back toward home base. I didn’t mind the quiet. Awkward gaps in conversation had become the norm since my accidental acquisition of the leadership role.

  “I’m concerned about our ability to adequately handle incursions into our reality,” Daniel said as we pulled into the wide parking lot that surrounded our ‘office’. A single street lamp sat in the middle, casting an orange glow on row upon row of empty parking spots. I parked next to Kate and Daniel’s cars, occupying the spots nearest the rusted steel building on the water.

  I killed the engine.

  “We’re doing well enough,” I said, stifling a yawn as we piled out. My eyes burned like the Sandman had been dumping kitty litter into them. We’d been punching the clock far too many hours of late. “We’re out there beating up monsters that are kicking puppies and stealing pension checks from poor old ladies. And doing it with style.”

  Daniel glared at me. “We’re stretched thin. We’re barely even, uh, going outside Seattle, Samuel. There’s a whole world to protect. We need to regain our fighting force.”

  “Fighting force,” I repeated without enthusiasm.

  “We went from almost a hundred Seneschals to three.”

  “Two point fiv,.” I said, waving a hand at Kate.

  “Even with the Twins stepping up their little side business,” Kate added, “we’re getting overwhelmed. We’re going to burn out at some point.”

  I drummed my fingers on the roof of my car in quiet contemplation.

  More people means more opportunities for you to screw up and get them killed, Samuel, a voice whispered. I shuddered at how familiar it sounded, a voice I once thought I’d never hear again. That I was the only one who could hear it didn’t help either.

  Shut up, I snarled in the vaults of my mind. You don’t get to talk. You don’t get to weigh in on anything.

  Echoing lau
ghter mocked me. My heart pounded in my ears. My feet almost stumbled in my hurry to cross those last few dozen steps before I could pass out of this world.

  “I’ll talk to him about it,” Kate said behind me, trying to placate Daniel. “Are you coming in?”

  “No,” Daniel said. “No, there’s work to do.” I heard his car door open and shut, and I pushed every thought of those two from my mind. I needed out of this universe. Leaving existence behind seemed about the only way I could silence her. Back in Sanctuary, I’d be free from Lauren’s whisperings, though the entity that was Sanctuary itself was free to babble at that point.

  Damned on Earth and damned beyond it.

  Chapter 2

  “Concentrate.”

  I straightened my back, legs crossed in front of me, the backs of my hands resting on my knees. With a slow breath in through my nose, I tried to picture something peaceful. Calming. Images flickered through my low attention span. A lake in the Cascade Mountains I’d visited as a teen with friends. A box full of kittens. Scotch. A smell. Lavender, maybe? My body ached from day after day working without break, but I pushed the sensation to the side. It was still there, but separate from me.

  “Better,” the voice said, grudging admiration tinting the word.

  Something smacked me in the face with enough force to rock my head back.

  “God damn it!” I snapped, rubbing at my face. An open book lay face down beside me, pages creased in the tumble from its assault. My head snapped up to the gaunt figure masquerading as a man. It wore a navy blue suit, crisp and bespoke, leaning against my office wall. Sanctuary stared down at me with a look of disgust, like he’d just stepped in dog crap. He made a bored gesture with one hand. Another thick tome materialized out of nothingness a foot in front of him and tumbled through the air. I swore and battered at it, but it struck hard enough to send lightning flashes of pain up my wrist.

  “You’re not concentrating, Samuel,” Sanctuary said.

  “I’m concentrating on kicking your ass,” I muttered, rubbing at both my face and wrist simultaneously and looking absurd while doing it.