by Hunter Blain
“Welcome, tlahuelpuchi,” said a confident voice with a Spanish accent to it. It wasn’t the typical English-speaking Spanish intonation, but was different in the way that accents from Mexico and Spain differed from one another.
“Tla-what now?” I asked, confused at the term as I looked around the room for any unseen traps.
“Apologies. It is the closest description for one such as yourself in my language.” I was surprised that this—once again presumably—Aztec god had such an impressive English vocabulary.
Joey struggled in my arms, and I realized I was holding him like a child would hold a puppers and set him down. His legs seemed to support his weight now.
“Where are we?” I asked, turning around to survey the room. There was no obvious exit now that the portal we had gone through had closed. “Why did you stop me from getting to Depweg?” My voice grew harsher as I spoke, and I was clenching and unclenching my fists. My best friend was only moments away from being overrun on all sides.
“What is a Dep-weg?” the orange-faced man asked, perplexed.
“My wolf friend. Kinda looks like this,” I explained in agitation, picking Joey up by the scruff and holding him out while pointing with my other hand. I could hear Joey sigh as he decided not to resist, probably because he wanted answers too. He was a good boy.
Setting Joey down gently, I glared at the man on the throne whose smile never wavered.
“Ah, the furry demon who’s been eating my mortals.”
“Yeah. Him. Where is he?” I demanded while crossing my arms. I did not enjoy being held captive by someone who exuded power. Not because of any inferiority complex or sense of insecurity. But for, you know, other reasons that I didn’t want to get into right now.
“You have more pressing matters to attend to, tlahuelpuchi,” the man said, letting his smile drop.
“Who are you?” I asked with narrowing eyes.
“Ah, how unpleasant of me. My name is Tezcatlipoca, and I am the god of the night sky, obsidian, so on and so on. The humans have gifted me with countless names over the eons.” There was a forced wariness that was fluffed with pride while mentioning his many names. “I have also been called the god of fire and death, though that isn’t entirely true.”
“What do you want with me?” I asked, my tone a little softer than before.
“Might I first ask your name?” the man inquired, holding out one hand, palm up, in a gesture that implied it was my turn to speak.
“Name’s John, but without the K.”
“I wasn’t aware there was supposed to be a K in John,” he proclaimed in confusion while wordlessly tonguing my name again, sounding it out.
“Yeah, I know, that’s what I said. No K.”
“The English language is peculiar indeed,” Tezcatlipoca said dismissively as he looked down at his lap in thought. His eyes flicked back up to me after a moment, and he continued, “What I want, John without the K, is to know what is going on in my domain.”
“Which part are you referring to?”
“First, the furry demon begins eating people of my land. Then you show up with this smaller furry demon,” the god said, waving a hand to gesture casually toward Joey. “Now, there is a demon the size of a mountain invading my territory.” I could tell he was extremely pissed about demon lord Asmodeus. Tezcatlipoca uncrossed his legs and got to his feet, taking one step off his platform and extending a finger at me. “Why are they here, John without the K?”
“It’s just John,” I corrected. “Look, Tez, can I call you Tez?” Tez didn’t answer, so I took that as a sign of agreement. “Tez, I don’t know what the demon lord Asmodeus is doing here. What I do know is he is after my best friend, Depweg, and must be stopped.”
“On that, we agree,” Tez said, his other foot leaving the platform and coming forward to land next to the other in a nonhostile stance.
“Oh, there’s a warlock here too, by the by.” Tez tilted his head, not fully grasping the message. “Um, a warlock is a magic user that gets his powers from Hell.”
“Ah. Though I am not familiar with the moniker, I do understand the concept.”
“Right. He-he’s not a very good guy and wants to do not very good things.” I left out the part that he wanted to do them to Depweg and, apparently, me thereafter. “I, ah, don’t suppose you’d be willing to help us rid your lands of these pests, would ya?” I shifted my face downward while keeping my eyes on his in a show of humble submission, as if I were doing him a favor instead of the other way around.
“Your tongue is forged from the finest of gold, Just John, but words mean little to a god.” Though I heard what he said, I saw his face was amused. “These—pests—are your problem. From where I stand, giving you to them would be the simplest of solutions.”
Joey growled and took a few steps to place himself between Tez and myself. Tez looked daggers at Joey as an obsidian Aztec sword flowed from his hand like one of my manifestations. Once solidified, it had a long handle that extended into what looked like a paddle with pieces of sharp stone along the edges, almost like a chain saw.
“Whoa there, er’body!” I said, stepping forward and waving my hands placatingly. “You, heh, you gotta forgive Joey. He’s protective for a good reason.”
“And what reason would that be, Just John?”
“First, it’s just John. Not Just John. Second, if I die, then it means the end of the world.”
Tez stopped, arched an eyebrow, and looked down at his pendant, which he grabbed with his non-sword hand. “That cannot be true. The end of the world won’t commence for another…” he squinted at the gold etchings and counted, “Ome, yei, nahui…five years.”
“Five years?” I asked, feeling light-headed as air was stolen from my lungs in a moan-like sigh.
“Yes. In precisely five years’ time, a new era will begin as a doorway to the forever fire will open.”
“You mean Hell?”
“Yes, I mean Hell,” he answered with a touch of annoyance at my ignorance of his knowledge.
“Fo-forgive me, my friend, but isn’t it odd for an Aztec god to believe in another religion’s underworld?”
“Hell is a real place, is it not?”
“Well, ah, yeah. Yeah, it is.”
“I am a real god, am I not?”
“I, um…yes?” I answered, unsure.
“Let me clarify for you: if I were to take this macuahuitl ,” he hefted his weapon, turning it over in his hands and letting the black stones glint in the light, “and bring it down on your head, would your skull not cleave in two?”
I felt pressure in my gums and an ache in my eyes as I fought not to go predatory while in the presence of someone that could probably do as he hypothesized.
“I suppose it would, yes.”
“Then I am real,” he explained, letting the sword melt and absorb back into his body. I couldn’t decide if he had retracted the blade in a show of harmony after basically threatening me with it, or if it merely served no purpose after his explanation. “Is it such a stretch of the imagination for a real entity to recognize an equally real plane of existence, even if not within its own pantheon?”
“Well I, ah, didn’t think of it like that. I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. We deities across the world have a delicate understanding and respect for one another. It just so happens that the Judeo-Christian Devil will bring about the end for everybody.”
“THEN WHY AREN’T THE GODS WORKING TOGETHER TO STOP HIM?!” I blurted out with more fervor than anticipated.
Tez smiled at me, like a parent who knew why the sick, tantrum-fueled child had to take the medicine.
“The reasons of the gods are that which you couldn’t comprehend, child of the night.” His voice was placative and soothing; it disarmed me. “However, I will provide a sliver of insight to help you better appreciate the situation: the Norse gods are no more, killed by the Lord of Hell’s own machinations.” I felt a pocket of air the size o
f a tennis ball slide down my throat as I gulped at what I was hearing. “In what other scenario could it be feasible for one such as yourself to wield a weapon of the gods?”
My hand twitched, reflexively reaching for the hammer at my waist before I commanded it to relax back at my side. Tez saw this, and the corner of his mouth turned up at my unconscious confirmation of his question.
“Thor? Odin? Not only are they real bu-bu-but…they’re dead?” I became light-headed again as the fear I had of Satan exponentially increased, filling my head with dread to the point where my body suggested we have a nice, lengthy sit on the stone floor, which all of a sudden looked extremely comfortable.
“Not just them. The bodies of the gods are steadily creating the foundation for the King of Hell’s rise to power.”
Fighting the urge to collapse, I simply lowered myself onto one knee as I rested my hands on the cold ground. I noticed it was slightly damp.
“It is understandable to be frightened, John. An incomprehensible burden lies bare upon your shoulders. It is best you have a better understanding of the foe you face.” Tez looked back down at his pendant, turning it over in his hands as he appeared to read something. His eyebrows went up for a fraction of a second before returning to normal.
“What? What does it say?” I asked while trying to keep my head from swaying, my gaze switching between Tez and the pendant he wore.
He let it drop back to his chest before saying, “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, now.”
Something whispered in my mind, and I desperately latched onto an idea that might provide a flaw in what I was hearing. “Hey,” I said, placing my hands on my hips as I found my strength and got back to my feet, “how do you know all this if you didn’t even know my name? I mean, if something as simple as my name wasn’t foretold, how can we put any stock in the rest of what your shiny necklace says?”
“Your name is not written, only the impossible task that is before you.”
“They know all that, but not my name?” I repeated, feeling my confidence grow in the deceptive guise of doubt.
“The arrangement of letters in your name might have appeared to the seers as foreign as that of the orient.”
“Eeewww,” I exhaled with a scrunched-up face.
Tez looked at me with a cocked eyebrow. “What is it?”
“We don’t say ‘orient’ anymore,” I said with air quotes, feeling more like my old self again.
Tez stared at me, letting what I had said sink in. I was sure the idea of words being harmful was ridiculously outlandish to a god who was accustomed to mortals sacrificing themselves for him.
“I know, shit’s retarded, right?” I admitted. Joey nudged me, causing me to look down at him. “What?” He chuffed in response. “Oh, right. Shit’s ‘vaccinated’ now. Can’t use the ol’ r-word anymore.”
“ENOUGH!” Tez cried out, sending down sheets of dust from the walls and ceiling. “Do not presume to correct a god, mosquito. The feelings of mortals have no weight in my choice of words. They cater to me, not the other way around. Am I clear on the matter?”
“Oop, yes sir, yes sir, indeedy. I-I’m with you, one hundred percent. People today are butthurt about every little ol’ thing. They go outta their way to get butthurt. Seriously. And what’s the deal with airline food? Am I right?”
“Silence,” Tez commanded with a reverberating voice as he waved a hand in front of me. “John, I will aid in removing these threats from my land. But know this,” he held up a single finger to emphasize his point, “I cannot interfere with that which cannot be changed. The doorway to Hell will open and it will be by your doing.”
The facade of confidence that had been constructed of structurally weak doubt crumbled as this god’s words confirmed what Lachesis had said.
In a meek, almost defeated voice, I said, “Understood.”
“Good,” Tez said while waving a hand in the general direction of where I stood. A portal opened next to me, and a huge beast fell through to land on all fours on the stone floor.
Depweg pushed up to stand on his hind legs and roared. His fur was matted with blood from multiple grievous wounds.
Furious red-tinged yellow eyes locked onto Tezcatlipoca, and the feral werewolf began to stride forward, gore-coated claws outstretched.
I blurred in front of Depweg, holding my hands up, and cried out, “BENJI SILVER!”
The wolf stopped and pivoted a massive head down to regard me. Ears flicked and eyes squinted as his head tilted to the side.
“Benji. Silver. That was the boy all those years ago. I found out his name for you, brother. Benji Silver.”
Understanding flashed across Depweg’s yellow eyes, and he took a step back as if struck by an unseen blow. He regained his balance and shook his head forcibly. I didn’t know if this was my friend trying to wrestle the beast in his mind or the monster trying to dismiss what it had just heard.
“Depweg, it’s us. Joey and John,” I said just above a whisper, being as gentle as I could as I swept my hand from Joey to myself. “We came to save you. We love you, man. Come back to us. Please.”
Tears welled in the beast’s eyes as the red tinge faded. Depweg then looked at the strange man who had sat back upon his throne.
“That’s a friend. He wants to help save you, too.”
Depweg returned his eyes to me, which seemed to have dulled to a more human brown. He arched his back and howled into the air above him, arms stretched to either side. The howl was still a dissonant cry, but I could hear my friend Depweg in there this time. Blood was starting to pool at his feet as I watched him wrestle with the feral beast inside. If anyone knew how hard it was to take control back from their predatory self, it sure as hell was me.
“You got this, brother. Fight the beast and come back to us,” I encouraged like a fighter’s coach in the corner of the ring. Joey was beginning his transformation back into his man-suit next to me. I took this as a clear sign that the danger was over, for now.
The feral wolf’s long muzzle began to shrink as his overall size diminished, like watching an ice sculpture melt under the sun using a time-lapse camera.
Joints popped as large fangs tumbled from shrinking jaws. An impressive snout flattened to a man’s face while skin became prominent where thick, matted fur once reigned. The beast-man screamed in unknowable pain as the twelve-foot wolf shrunk to a man less than half that size. I winced in sympathy as I imagined the feeling of bone and muscle condensing into themselves, like the world’s worst charley horse, but everywhere at once.
When the wolf was subdued, Depweg was left standing completely naked, trembling from shock and covered head to toe in glistening blood. Gaping holes oozed precious life force as Depweg staggered, and his eyes rolled back into his head before he fell to the ground.
I rushed to him, cradling his head as fluttering eyes struggled to lock onto me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to heal the silver-induced wounds, especially without fire. That, and there were a lot more bullet holes than I had ever dealt with, making me question if Depweg would even survive the removal of each before bleeding out.
Looking up to Tez, I yelled, “Help him! Please!”
“Are you sure?” Tezcatlipoca asked in a tone that I would expect to hear when asking a favor from the Fae.
Though red flags waved in my mind and alarms rang out, I said, “Yes, I’m fucking sure!”
“Very well,” Tez said, waving a palm through the air.
Depweg cried out and flinched, causing my gaze to lock onto the unnerving sight that was unfolding before me. Mushroomed bullets made entirely of silver sprang from the wounds like popcorn in a hot pan and tinkered on the ground.
After the last bullet leaped from the puckering flesh, Depweg inhaled sharply and then went ragdoll in my arms. Steady breathing reassured me that he had only fainted. Flowing blood slowed and then stopped like a faucet being edged closed. Pink and purple flesh reached across a vast expanse where bullets had punched through
skin, muscle, and bone. Even the color around the wound returned to a healthy shade as if nothing had happened.
“Thank you, Tez,” I said with a sigh of relief, though without making eye contact with the god. I knew what I had just done and that a price was owed to this deity that I knew very little about.
“There’s no need to thank me,” Tez said with a smile in his voice.
“An-and why’s that?” I asked, gulping and forcing myself to look up at him. His grin reinforced my concern and told me everything I needed to know.
“When the time is right, you will know. Until such a time as I summon you, be well, Just John.” With that, he waved his hand and we were sitting in my living room.
7
I recognized where we were in an instant and barked out a sigh of frustration and relief while shaking my head as I started to get to my feet.
“WHATTHEHELL!” Locke blurted out as one word while attempting to pull his pants up with his right hand. On his left was a hologram screen of two dudes attempting to inflate one another like a blow-up mattress. He saw me gawking and closed his hand.
“Whoa! Locke?!”
“Whoa yourself, bloodsucker. Where on Earth did you come from?”
“I may be a bloodsucker, but apparently you are a—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” he barked, face flushing.
“Dude, it’s, like, 2039 or something. Pretty sure it’s cool to be gay.”
“I’m not gay! I-I don’t think, at least.” He seemed to look inward.
“Bi then, whatever, don’t care, dude,” I changed to a female teacher’s voice and teased, “You’re a growing boy going through some big changes right now. It’s perfectly natural for both your mind and body to explore different sexual thoughts and actions.” Somehow Locke managed to blush even brighter, almost to the point where I thought I would have to don a pair of sunglasses from how red he was. “But seriously, we got a lot to catch up on.”
Locke’s eyes shot to Depweg and lit up.
“Jonathan!”
“Uuuuuhhhhhh,” Depweg moaned as he got up to a seated position and placed his head on his knees. He rubbed at his temples, scrunching his eyes tightly. I did not envy the headache he must be experiencing, both from his agonizing transformation and from being trapped within the prison of his own mind for so long.
