by David Kempf
The price of being human, the price of Prometheus’s rebellion lay right under his feet. As clear as day, he saw himself. Christopher Wisdom’s dead body was frozen in the ice. Mortality has its price and he got to see the bill with his own eyes. Death is inevitable and nothing is more natural than not wanting to die. The masters were taking a cheap shot at him.
“This is below the belt, even for you!” he yelled at the wish masters.
Scaring the hell out of the puny humans was an occupational hazard to the masters. They were silent now but they hoped, they wished that this would tell Christopher where he stood now.
“So I am no longer one of the immortals?”
Silence again. Perhaps the ones who grant wishes do not need to stalk their prey so closely, he thought. Was this still a dream or not? Christopher wasn’t sure. Not sure at all. Then he did something else that was crazy.
“Oh, fuck it.”
He put his hand right into the center of the torch. He waited for the burn. He waited for the terrible pain. It never came.
“Damned if I know if this is a dream or not!”
He still wasn’t sure. Not even a little. No one was going to reveal the information that he needed. The whole affair was so full of irony. He could no longer tell fantasy from reality. There was something else he needed to put to the test.
“I’m going to do it. See you soon, handsome!”
Christopher put the torch down on the ice in order to melt it. He looked down at the image of his dead face.
“Yeah, still a good looking fellow.”
He pressed it against the ice hard and he saw immediate results. The ice was melting just like he wanted it to do. If he was back to being mortal again, they were not in store for another run of the mill, helpless human. This time they were in for someone who would fight back! Christopher, like many of the greatest characters in fiction, always made a fine point of questioning authority.
“I’m not scared, bring it on!”
Still silence. The man was about to come face to face with his own corpse and they would not speak to him. The Jinn didn’t give him so much as a single word or one sentence in a mocking tone. Were they afraid of him? Could it be that they were even bored with him and had found other mortals to torment?
“You look pretty good for a dead guy.”
He took his body out of the ice. It wasn’t hard. Not hard at all, actually. He looked at his own face, his dead face. It wasn’t that bad. Not that bad at all.
“The hunt wasn’t supposed to be like this,” said Christopher.
The late, great Christopher Wisdom was right before him. It was no secret that man was meant to die. No secret at all.
“Interesting, but now I need to know what the hell all of this means.”
Being human wasn’t all that bad if that was his fate. After all, being human means you get to die someday. Mortality wasn’t getting the short end of the stick. No. Being immortal meant that life had no meaning. Immortality was chaotic and meaningless. It was essentially a fairy tale with no point. It could have been said that he was rediscovering his humanity. All romantic journeys lead to death in the end. Death gives life meaning. There was no need to be pretentious; once you were dead there was no going back.
“They want me to be in a vulnerable state; they won’t be winning.”
He held his corpse tightly to him. Disturbing, yes it was. Wrong, yes it was. Weird, definitely it was. Fate was teaching him a lesson.
“Goodbye.”
His body turned to dust right before his eyes. Now he knew that he was dreaming again. It slowly dawned on him that he was going to wake up. It was inevitable. Christopher wanted to discover the meaning of his dreams and nightmares. He wanted nothing less for his characters and he wanted the same for himself.
“I’ll be waking up soon.”
The dust all over him was starting to disappear.
“The hunt wasn’t supposed to be like that.”
“Another dream, sir?” asked Mooney.
“Yes.”
Christopher stared at the safe. He smiled and then rolled his eyes. This time he was going to make an effort to communicate with his two companions. Things could get better. No doubt. He did not want to betray David or even the shiftless Mooney. His visions taught him who he was going to turn against. They had it coming. It wasn’t fair that a group of supernatural creatures should gang up on one mortal. Even worse, they would play on man’s existential dilemma to win a fight.
“Where’s David?”
“I’ll go get him.”
David was not very happy with Christopher. He felt disrespected and also felt that Christopher was becoming a cowardly drunk. He was thinking that his protégé was afraid to face the consequences of his own immortality. David knew that chaos would reign in the end, but that there would be good times as well. These good times could last for decades and perhaps even centuries. In David’s eyes, Christopher Wisdom needed to stop being a fool and embrace the work that needed to be done.
“Christopher, you wanted to speak with me,” David said.
“Yes.”
“So talk.”
“I need to know where you stand,” Christopher said.
“What?”
“I need to know which side you’re on.”
“What the bloody hell does that mean?”
“I would hope you know.”
“Sorry, I don’t,” David shook his head.
“You’ve made yourself a pawn with great benefits in this eternal war against humanity. Now you want to break the rules and defy the code. How? I’ll tell you. You want to abort your past mistakes to avoid more unspeakable punishments from those awful creatures,” Christopher explained.
“I don’t follow.”
“Oh, only time will tell that!”
“What do you mean, Christopher?”
“I mean, are you a pawn or are you a Prometheus?”
“Bloody hell, you’re getting quite philosophical aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want to know?”
“The truth is what I need to know.”
“Really, is that it?” David asked.
“Yes.”
“What specifically do you need to know?”
“Are you attempting to merely cover your ass with these things, or do you wish to turn your back on them?”
“Turn my back on them? I could die from such an act.”
“I know,” said Christopher.
“Well, the short answer is this. I have no wish to die, even if I have to serve evil masters forever,” David said.
“I see, David.”
“Good.”
“I guess I’ve had certain premonitions and dreams now. I suppose I feel like we could kill these abominations frozen in the ice of the great land and…that is merely stage one.”
“What would stage two be then?” asked David Proctor.
“I think you know,” replied Christopher.
“That’s unspeakable.”
“No.”
“Yes,” insisted David.
“Kill the masters,” said Christopher.
“It cannot be done.”
“I think that it can, David.”
“Christopher, it’s impossibility,” David said impatiently.
“How the hell do you know that?”
“I just know. Deep down inside, you know it as well.”
“No!” Christopher refused.
“Yes!” David yelled.
“Listen to me. I think you should at least discuss these matters with me after our journey is complete.”
“Fair enough, Christopher.”
Mooney approached the two immortals and smiled. It was a businesslike smile instead of the type that signals warm friendship. He pointed to the many weapons available to them. Then he showed them the weather-resistant coats that they would be wearing in the treacherous cold.
“It’s time, friends,” said Mooney.
“Yes,” said
Christopher.
On their strong backs, the three of them carried heavy equipment; the least of these was certainly not the flame throwers. They were big, heavy and lethal. The fine folks in the Middle Ages thought that all things abominable should be burned. This was just carrying on that wicked tradition of searching and destroying.
They slowly stepped off the boat. It was evening, but there was still some sunlight left. Christopher felt a sense of dread at the idea of sleeping again. He wanted the bad dreams to end and he knew they would only stop if he faced the real nightmare. It was full steam ahead with many miles to go. This was no short trip. Christopher could see by the expression on the faces of David and Mooney that this was no pleasant hike.
“I hope we only need to do this once,” said David.
“My God, yes!” answered Mooney.
The young ghoul felt as though he had talked enough, perhaps even too much. The defiant thoughts he had in his head this time could remain a secret. The cold was miserable. Although Mooney certainly knew what he was doing, this was still a descent into a cold hell. As they walked a little further, Christopher began to look at some of the scenery. He watched snow fall from some of the glaciers. It was beautiful, but probably meant to be seen from a far distance on a cruise ship. He drank some water because he was thirsty. Mooney had designed a thermos that kept the water warm so it would not freeze. Was the hunt supposed to be like this?
“We have many miles to go in this dark journey,” said David.
“Yes,” said Mooney.
“It’s a bit too early to complain so I don’t want to hear bellyaching,” said David.
“I’ve not complained and Christopher hasn’t said anything during the past two hours,” said Mooney.
“Oh, you’re right,” said David.
This wasn’t some vain war for gold. Christopher knew that this was a righteous crusade against evil. He knew it even if he and his mentor were consorting with the chief evildoers. It didn’t matter. They were abominations and they had to be destroyed. Evil such as them could simply not be tolerated.
“Are we almost there?” Christopher asked.
“Very funny,” David answered.
“I’ll bet that Lynch is having a much better time than us.”
“Yes, he’s always drunk,” replied David.
“Sounds good to me,” Christopher answered.
“Yes, I noticed that’s how you passed the time on the voyage. If you weren’t already immortal, I would be really worried about you,” said David.
“I suppose that I had that coming. Listen, the good professor might have become a fine writer but he’s never seen anything like this before.”
“No, he hasn’t. Nobody has ever killed a ghoul before,” David replied.
“That’s true,” said Christopher.
What David Proctor said was absolutely true. Now Christopher was obsessing over what they were doing on this death hunt. These were real monsters. Granted, David was a creature with supernatural powers as well, but Christopher was new. He was trying to do something that had never been attempted and he was the youngest of the clan. This was very foolish perhaps. Still, he had made a deal with David and he was going to see it through.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure if anyone can accomplish this murderous task, it’s the three of us,” said David.
“Okay.”
“He’s right, sir. I’m sure he’s right,” said Mooney.
Christopher was worried. These creatures were fierce. It was disturbing to imagine more than one David Proctor in true form. The three continued for a few more painful hours in the dark. Then they finally stopped to rest. A fire was built. Sleep was almost impossible under their present conditions. David smiled at Christopher and handed him a flask.
“Have a sip but please take it easy.”
“Fine,” answered Christopher.
“This might be a good time to talk about your muse.”
“Trying to pass the time by?” Christopher asked.
“I am, because we all know the plan and there is no way to practice our killing skills. Passing the time is good.”
“My muse is imagining wealth for my family,” said Mooney.
“I suppose my muse is murder,” said David. “It occupied my books and attracted me to your writings. You are a protégé to someone obsessed with killing.”
“Do you know what my muse is?” Christopher asked.
“I think so,” David answered.
“No idea, sir,” said Mooney.
“Betrayal is my muse,” said Christopher. “I betrayed my parents first. Then I stepped up to the plate and turned my back on the whole damned human race itself.”
“Yes, I know,” said David.
“Now I want to turn my back on those who prey on weaker beings…”
“Once again, we’ll talk about it later. Perhaps we can all get drunk on the voyage back. When we sober up, we’ll realize that it would be like insects trying to overthrow mankind.”
“Cockroaches have been around a lot longer than man,” Christopher said.
“They’ll be around for millions of years when we’re gone as well,” said Mooney. He looked at the two ghouls and laughed. “What do you suppose they’ll want to wish for?”
The three assassins had a good laugh and a brief sleep. Deep sleep with dreams of the masters did not come to Christopher. The next morning they continued their journey further into the cold. Christopher was wondering when they would reach their final destination. He didn’t want to complain, but the cold weather was truly dreadful. It was obvious that David had other plans. He wanted to keep going no matter what. He wanted to finish the job. Six was the number of the devil and the number of actual real life monsters on earth. It was time. They kept heading away from that boat which was heaven compared to this frozen walk. Christopher didn’t want to ask how much further they had because he felt like David might go mad. Then he was relieved by the painful expression of Mooney’s face. It was a look of impatience but not because he was exposed to the elements. What struck Christopher as being odd was that Mooney, a mere mortal, was taking this so much better than he was.
“All laughs aside, are we close? I think we are,” said Mooney.
“I know what’s on your mind,” said David.
“Yes,” answered Mooney.
“I have a simple goal. Survival,” David said.
“I know,” said Mooney.
“Your goal is much more honorable.”
“Thank you, David.”
The two men looked at each other with certain recognition. They appeared to think or at least believe that they were in familiar surroundings. They grinned at one another like people who had been driving all night and finally found a hotel with a vacancy sign. The immortal Christopher was already in a luxury hotel in his mind’s eye. He couldn’t figure out why he was still thinking in terms of mortal creature comforts. The only explanation that would make sense would be if the part of him that was still human remained strong.
“Not long now, so hard to see,” said Mooney.
“Yes,” said David.
Down he went, deep into the cave. Mooney fell so quickly that David and Christopher hardly had time to hear his agonizing screams going down, down, down. The two looked at one another and mindreading was not a requirement at that moment. It was simple. They were both thinking, wondering how much longer until they would fall into the snow pit. It was a short wait. Christopher fell perhaps half a second before David followed him down into the cave. There were many bumps and bruises along the journey down, down, down. Fortunately, being immortal, their bruises healed before they even hit the ground. Mooney, of course, wasn’t quite as fortunate.
“It’s been a long time,” said Mooney. He was searching the darkness and then finally managed to get his flamethrower on low power. It lit up the entire cave. Then he looked down at his legs. They were fine. His other arm, however, was broken. He looked at his two companions and knew immediately their wo
unds were already healed.
“Must be nice,” he said to them.
“Sorry about your arm,” said Christopher.
“I will carry that for you, Mooney,” said David.
“No, sir, I think not. I’ve waited a long time for this. That son of a bitch Alexander had plans to wipe out my entire family. That would have meant neither me nor my son would have ever existed. I want him.”
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate your enthusiasm, Mooney. You are going to need our help; after all, this has never been done before, at least, on our planet.”
“We go on now,” Christopher said.
The three companions now all had their flamethrowers on medium range power. The cave was lit up with a near blinding light. They went on and continued, walking deep inside the cave. Christopher was still very fearful. Killing monsters was never in the college’s curriculum. Neither, of course, was being one. They were beginning to feel the presence of the ancient ones and the failed abominations. David and Christopher sensed them much more strongly than their mortal companion did. The hunt was not supposed to be like this but then again, a monster hunt was never meant to be real. Christopher couldn’t help but wonder how things got quite so complicated. The human part of him, which still dominated, wanted to fight all the evil. He felt as though after the other ghouls were dead, he wanted to go all the way. Christopher Wisdom’s wounds instantly healed and he couldn’t die. He still appeared human and even though his mentor told him this would change, he was skeptical. Perhaps being more human than monster, he kept his ordinary human appearance.
“Let’s go for it, guys,” said David.
“Yes,” said Christopher.
“It’s time for these appalling bastards to die!” exclaimed Mooney.
There they were. The light was shining on the frozen ghouls. Even the simple use of the flamethrowers for light was immediately melting the ice. The five failed attempts with no head for being immortals came before the mentor of David Proctor. The three crusaders rushed to the master. All three flamethrowers were put on high. The ice instantly melted. Alexander came to life and despite David’s description of him suffering memory loss, he caught on quick. He looked at them and their intentions, their minds in a mere instant. Then he began to move backwards into the ice as they were melting it in hopes of his impending doom.
