[Demonworld #1] Demonworld

by Kyle B. Stiff

  The boy stopped suddenly, sniffed the air, and whirled towards the pair. Wodi recoiled in shock, for the boy’s face was covered in ragged fur, his eyes were uneven black dots set under a sloping brow, and two long, blunt fangs punctuated his horribly uneven teeth.

  A dogman! Wodi thought. So those things are real!

  The pup tilted his head and said, through clenched teeth, “Who’re you? What you do?”

  Jules shrieked, and Wodi heard him clambering up a rocky rise nearby.

  Wodi breathed deep, then leaned against his staff. “Hello,” he said. “My name is Romana Kyner. My friends call me Wodi.” He spoke with a casual tone, but his hands shook, and he blinked often. “What’s your name?”

  “I not give you my name,” the pup said, “or I become yours. Only my people know my name. I go on journey, finally become warrior.” He dropped the stones he held, and said, “But I get tired, play game of Hit Rock. It an alright game, sometimes.”

  The dogman pup sniffed and eyed Wodi up and down with hungry eyes.

  “A warrior?” Wodi said. “I bet you know a lot about this valley. My friends would surely like to ally with someone like you.” Sweat beaded on his forehead. The boy seemed dull-witted and bestial, a thing of pure kinetic energy. He wanted nothing to do with the pup, and he hated himself because he knew he would say anything to placate the savage.

  The pup slapped his chest, said, “Believe it! I be great warrior soon. I journey long. I stomp a kitten yesterday, I throw a donkey off cliff day before that, and day before that I head-butt something so hard I forget what it was.”

  Wodi thought of the poor, whipped animal he had freed yesterday. He swallowed painfully, then said, “Sounds noble. I’m sure your people are proud of you.”

  The pup sniffed loudly, and his lips turned into a snarl. “I smell you,” he said. “Full of lying! You have smooth skin, soft like a bitch-pup.” The pup slowly reached behind him and grasped the hilt of his sword. “I take wicked tongue from you head, skin you and eat you meat while you scream!”

  The pup unsheathed his sword and charged forward. He swung the blade out in a wide killing arc. Wodi yelped, stumbled to the side, and scrambled away. The pup barked and swung his heavy blade while Wodi stumbled in a circle around the plateau. The pup was a terrifying ball of fury, wholly unlike the cowardly ghouls. Wodi thought of leaping from the arena to escape, but there was nothing but sharp rocks far below. The heavy blade sliced the air inches from his head as he turned about, and he saw a vision of sitting in his warm room near the University. The blue lights were on, his cat laid on an open book and Wodi moved one of his paws so that he could continue studying – and he knew that he would never have a happy moment like that, not ever again, because of one barking psychotic freak of nature.

  I don’t want to die! Wodi thought. Not like this!

  At once he saw the face of Sevrik Clash. Crush his will with yours! said Sevrik. Your ancestors didn’t find Haven by begging for mercy!

  Wodi’s heart burned and he felt strength blasting through his awareness. He stopped running, dug a foot in behind himself, and threw himself forward. As the pup swung his blade Wodi brought up his staff and blocked it. The blade dug into the wood and Wodi pushed himself against the beast. The pup pushed back and they stood face to face, eyes burning inches from one another.

  “Stop this now!” said Wodi. “Or I’ll kill you.”

  The pup whined with rage and jerked his blade free. He swung again; Wodi twisted the staff and blocked once more. He stepped back slowly, blocking each of the pup’s swings and gauging his rhythm. Mucus streamed from the pup’s nose and his tongue lolled out at the side. Wodi’s arms ached with the effort of blocking the heavy cleaver. He became adept at turning the staff so that he would not have to meet the blade head-on, but the pup was wearing deep gouges into the staff.

  Sensing that the staff would soon break, the pup bore all of his weight into one great blow – but Wodi felt the opening and swung around in a wild arc, smacking the pup in the back of the head, wielding the staff as if it was a long bat. The pup stumbled and Wodi swung again, this time slapping the pup across his eyes, nose, and mouth. The pup bit off part of his tongue and fell to the side.

  The pup knelt, covered his face with one hand, and let his sword rest on the ground. Wodi backed away, panting, his chipped staff held at the ready. “Stop this,” he said. “We’re both tired, and while you might beat me, you have nothing to gain from it.” A thick line of red-stained mucus hung down from the pup’s face and hand. Wodi continued, said, “Plus you’re predictable, and I... I don’t think you can win.”

  Suddenly the pup lifted his face to his enemy, his muzzle smeared with red foam. He barked and sprayed red on the stone floor. He staggered to his feet, blind with rage and deaf to reason, and swung his sword once more. Wodi blocked the attack easily – but the attack was a feint, for the pup quickly reached out with his free hand and grasped one end of the staff. Wodi pulled away but the pup held tightly, laughing and spitting flecks of blood. He raised his sword and brought it crashing through the middle of the staff, shearing it in half and sending splinters through the air.

  “Ha!” said the pup. “Now you-”

  The pup was cut short as Wodi’s shortened baton came to rest in the middle of his face. Stars blinded his vision and when he raised his end of the staff to guard himself, another blow numbed his knuckles and sent the wood clattering to the stone floor. He staggered away and wiped tears from his eyes. When he opened them again he saw Wodi running at him, one wooden baton in each hand, his face disturbingly serene.

  Now Wodi’s rage truly blossomed. Without pause he beat the pup about the face, ears, arms, and when the pup shielded himself his batons licked at the pup’s knees and feet. Unable to raise an effective defense, the pup backed away, then knelt in the shadow of a high rock.

  Wodi approached, out of breath but unwilling to spend another moment with the savage. All at once Wodi felt the hairs on his neck rise and the pup’s ears twitched. Someone grunted above them – then a large stone dropped from above. Wodi and the dogman pup scampered away from one another as the stone crashed violently into the ground. Even as it rolled away Jules began shouting apologies, one laid on top of another.

  Wodi staggered, felt wind at his back, then fell to his knees so that he would not fall into the abyss directly behind him. The savage pup saw an opening and, bellowing in victory, raised his sword and threw it. Wodi watched it swing end over end through the air, an executioner’s axe with the pup running full-tilt behind it. Wodi dropped his weapons and fell to the ground, locked eyes on the pup, and ignored the metal that slammed into his shoulder. The blade made a strange whooping sound, then fell into the mist far below. The pup leaped at Wodi. Wodi grabbed the pup’s torso and arm, felt the momentum, then twisted and fell sideways as he cast the psychotic beast into the sea of mist over the abyss. Wodi hit the stone floor, hard, and heard the pup bark once below. Wodi ignored the pain, grabbed one stick, and peered over the edge. The mist shifted and there was silence.

  Wodi lowered himself onto a narrow ledge. He leaped down a series of rocky steps, his stick held high. The wind parted the mist and he saw the form of the pup below, lying in a bed of stone, his neck bent oddly and his head resting in a pool of bubbling red. Wodi leaned against a rock and breathed deep. It was a wonder to him that the little dogman’s set of experiences were gone forever, blotted out in the sea of decay, and only Wodi remained. He heard Jules apologizing far above.

  * * *

  Jules clambered down from the high rock and ran to the edge. “Boy!” he said. “You down there?”

  He heard the boy panting, then saw him crawl out of the mist. The sword of the dogman pup was sheathed and strapped to his back, and his left arm was covered in blood. Wodi pulled himself over the wide ledge, glared at Jules for a moment, then offered him a weak smile.

  “You okay?” said Jules, staring at the red arm.

  “Yeah,” Wodi sa
id quickly, then followed the old man’s eyes to his arm. He hissed as he saw the blood for the first time. He looked at the old man.

  “You got hit with that sword,” said Jules.

  “When?”

  “When he throwed it at you. You don’t remember?”

  “Oh,” said Wodi, pausing. “I thought the handle hit me.”

  The old man scratched his neck and eyed him sideways.

  “It doesn’t hurt that much,” said Wodi.

  “You can’t feel it?”

  “Part of me can,” said Wodi.

  Jules leaned over the edge and looked for the pup. Wodi unsheathed the sword and studied it. It was a short blade made of dirty brown metal. The handle was smooth wood and the edge of the blade was very wide, like a cleaver made for swinging with one hand. Wodi winced and removed his shirt, then held one end in his mouth as he tied it around the deep black gash at his shoulder.

  “Good thing the blade wasn’t sharper,” said Wodi.

  Jules frowned at his optimism. He shook his head and said, “He was a tough li’l spit.”

  “He was a fool.”

  There was silence between them, then they heard grunting and commotion far away. The two looked at one another, then clambered up the high stone where Jules had hidden. There was something dreadfully familiar in the approaching sound. Jules covered his ears.

  Wodi lay flat atop the stone and watched the low pool, far below, from which they had come. White forms ran around on the far shore and dove into the pool, their cries echoing on the ancient stones. Wodi saw their leader carrying a long black spear.

  Ghouls.

  They swam the wide, calm pool, then rose onto the rocky shore shaking and growling. Wodi recognized them from before, but their cowardice was replaced with bloodlust. Wodi watched until they disappeared from sight.

  “They ran all the way down the river to cross here,” Wodi said. “I don’t know what’s changed in them, but they know exactly where they’re going.”

  Chapter Eight

  Saul’s Amazing Journey

  An excerpt from The Book of the Red:

  In those days the fury of the Lord was sweeping over the face of the earth. In the city of Meket they had armed themselves with a great ring of clockwork soldiers, and the people of the land gathered in the city while the children of God gathered outside. The people of Meket drank and were full of sin because they believed that judgment could not find them. (This was even after the people of Vatica had made sacrifice in order to spare themselves from the wrath of the Lord.)

  Now Mordecai lived in Meket and was a great man, but all were against him. He was a diligent man of learning but the entire world set themselves against him for no reason. Mordecai had been passed over for several promotions. Many people spit on him as he walked down the street, and they said, “No one is lower than Mordecai, for he does not even deserve a promotion!” But Mordecai prayed, and heard a voice, and the voice commanded him to turn off the clockwork soldiers. Mordecai pleaded that the city be spared, but the voice said that it would not. Mordecai pleaded for the Lord to spare him and his family, and the voice responded that he and his family would be spared. So Mordecai waited until the entire city was drunk, even the king and his ministers, and he pushed a secret button that played a song and sent the clockwork soldiers into a deep slumber.

  Then the children of God came into the city. They felled any who stood against them. They dashed the children upon the ground, they killed every woman they found and cast them into a great mound, they took many men down into the secret places with them and those men were not, but the rest of the men they snapped in half and cast them onto the mound with the others. A cloud of smoke could be seen over the city for miles around, but Mordecai and six others were allowed to pass through the land unharmed. In that way Mordecai became a saint because he saved lives that would otherwise have faced judgment.

  That is why to this very day in the Valley of Ebon people say, “Mordecai is a stand up man, for his ways are right with the Lord of hosts.”

  * * *

  Marlon stared into the eyes of the monkey. The creature was like a little man covered in blazing red tufts of fur. It returned the stare, eyes fixed and body rigid.

  “I don’t trust it,” said Iduna.

  “He’s like a little robot,” said Marlon. “Except we can eat him. And we might have to, since Peter went and lost all our milk.”

  Peter grunted as Iduna tightened a strip of cloth around a gash on his knee that he’d earned while running from the ferry. “It was all I could do to not get killed,” said Peter. “As if you weren’t drinking it all up, anyway.”

  Marlon turned to him but Iduna said, “Gentlemen, please. Peter has a point. We’re all lucky to be alive.”

  “All of us?” said Marlon.

  Iduna winced, said, “I meant... all of us present.”

  The monkey rose and walked among them. Marlon shook his head, then laid down. Saul said, quietly, “Marlon, what about the others?”

  “What others?”

  “You know, Wodi and Jules.”

  Marlon sighed heavily, said, “Saul, man.” He paused, then laid his arm across his eyes to block out the light. Iduna and Peter laid down near him. Saul looked at Hermann. The doctor idly rolled in his hands a few strips of cloth that Iduna had cut to use as bandages. He had not helped in cleaning the wound, and even now he was distant and ignored Saul. He suddenly laid back against a patch of moss and closed his eyes. In a minute, all were still and silent. Saul looked at the monkey, who turned about in a slow circle, then resumed its rigid pose, legs angled wide. Saul moved away from the others. He looked back, saw that Marlon made no move to stop him, then continued on.

  He found a small glade and sat on the trunk of a fallen tree. The sun had just begun its descent into the West and was still bright. He saw a patch of pink berries clinging to a creeper vine, picked one and licked it, then thought better of it and threw it away. He scratched a pattern into the dirt with his spear. He strolled back to the others and sighed loudly, waited, then sighed again. Seeing that everyone but the monkey were fast asleep, he turned and left them again.

  He was shocked to find a brown-robed girl sitting on the fallen trunk. He gasped and backed away, and the other did the same.

  They looked at one another in silence. The hooded girl slid from her seat and pressed her back to a tree. She gripped the trunk, and Saul saw that her hands were pale and delicate.

  “You’re… human!” he said.

  The girl slowly raised her hands and dropped her hood. Her features were rounded, soft. Her green eyes were full of mistrust, and she eyed the spear in Saul’s hands.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said. He lowered the spear and opened his palms to her. Her lips parted in a slight smile. “Can you understand me?” he said. She shook her head slowly.

  Saul sat on the fallen trunk and eyed her calmly. She waited, then sat down beside him. “That’s it,” he said. “I’m nothing to be scared of. Do you live here? Do you have friends here?”

  She looked at him, then looked down and smoothed the folds in her black robe. She repeated the movement a moment later.

  Saul started to rise, said, “You want to meet my friends?”

  The girl backed away, eyes wide. Saul thought of Marlon throwing a fit if he was woken prematurely, thought of Hermann eyeing her like a creep and saying nothing, thought of Peter probing her with questions – then pawing at her with his beefy, greasy hands. He said, “Okay, it’s okay, we’ll just sit here, then. Just you and me.”

  They sat for a while, then the girl produced a long red pipe which she packed with one large, unbroken black leaf. She held the pipe in her mouth, then parted her robe a little to remove a necklace that hung low between her breasts. The necklace held a rounded stone, which the girl rubbed vigorously. After a time she touched the stone to the pipe and inhaled deeply. She dropped the necklace to the forest floor, where it smoldered and died.

  “Tha
t’s a nice trick,” said Saul. The girl flashed a smile of crooked teeth and handed the pipe to her new friend.

  He sucked the pipe and the leaf hit him quickly. The world became a series of broken images, and his hundred aches melted into a warm butter that ran gently under his skin. The girl studied his hands in hers. He was content. She rose, and Saul followed her.