by J. Thorn
“If she is touched, I will extract that flesh from you.”
The words chilled Jasper, his own voice icing over and failing him. “I won’t touch her, I promise. You gotta believe me. I’ll keep off that one.”
The slow, rhythmic gurgling returned to the line, and Jasper sensed that the conversation was coming to an end. “Do so or suffer the same punishment exacted for your last transgression.”
“That fucker got lucky. He ain’t never patrolled this far out. He was just a stupid deputy that happened to git lucky. Besides, he was the only one to see her body, and I took him out lickety-split.” Jasper knew the rationalization would not help his cause, as it had not done so back then, either.
“Deliver her.”
The last two words fell from the phone before the line dropped back into dead silence. Jasper nodded and set it back on the cradle. He reached for the carabiner that hung from his frayed belt loop and glanced down at the magazine on the floor.
“Didn’t say I couldn’t get off on her, just not to touch. At least she can talk me off, right?”
The woman in the magazine remained in her pose as Jasper pushed back from the desk, opened the office door, and strolled out to the hidden ladies’ room, where there was more fun to be had.
***
In contrast to the glare of the fire pit in the middle of the clearing, the cavern sat in diffused light. Weak, oily torches jutted out from cracks in the rock, spitting a loose flame at odd angles. Ravna detected a moist scent overpowered by the rot of decay. He glanced at the wall, where hundreds of shapes covered the wet rock. Dark lines rose and fell, some intersecting at places in writing that looked more alien than ancient. He looked up and saw nothing but tendrils of smoke coalescing into the open darkness. The cave felt like a profane temple, and its high priest had his back turned and sat on a stone bench.
“Come,” said Gaki, the voice slithering from between his thin lips.
Ravna stood, the single syllable rolling through his stomach in waves of nausea. He clenched his midsection while his eyes adjusted to the low light of the cavern. He began to see shapes taking form, faces carved within the stone. The faces appeared humanoid, all of them frozen in eternal screams. Ravna felt the urge to reach up and touch the tortured carvings, until his hand came close and he felt a repulsion like that of high-powered magnets. He could not discern whether those frozen in the rock were male or female, young or old. Several heads hung in solitude, while other carvings were attached to stone bodies. Chains surrounded them, again obscuring the gender and age of the prisoners.
He looked down as he heard a squishing sound. Ravna stood in a dark puddle that appeared black in the light of the cave. He winced, knowing its true color and its true nature. Tattered strips of fabric dangled above the seated creature as if torn in anger from a cursed altar. Ravna saw the creature’s arms resting on a stone slab raised several feet higher than the dirt floor of the cave. The being remained seated and facing away from Ravna.
“Where is she?” Ravna asked. “What have you done with her?”
Gaki hissed, exhaling a long, slow breath. “It is time to feast,” he replied.
Ravna shook his head, the stench becoming more than he could handle. Twice he turned and gagged, the contents of his stomach threatening to eject.
“Come,” Gaki said again.
Ravna took three more steps toward the altar and then lost the ability to keep his stomach sedated. He turned his head and spewed vomit onto the nearest stone sculpture. Strands of saliva and stomach acid dripped from the statue’s fangs as if produced from within the stone.
Gaki sat at the stone altar, facing a pile of glistening body parts. His thin arms and long, slender fingers shoved the organs into a tiny mouth, blood and tissue squirting between his fingers and covering his face in the viscous liquid. Flies buzzed about the altar while Gaki ignored their incessant attacks. Ravna believed the creature to be chewing the human remains, but as he tried to swallow, Gaki’s distended stomach reversed the muscles, pushing the mangled flesh back out of his mouth and onto the pile. The more forcefully Gaki shoved with his hands, the more found its way back out of his mouth and onto the stone altar.
Ravna realized what had been the source of Gaki’s feast, and he turned to sprint from the cave. He could not remember seeing a corpse nailed to a tree that even remotely looked like Karen, but he had not been looking as closely as he would now. Ravna dashed through the cavern and stood in front of the fire pit that had smoldered into a glowing, orange orb. He scanned the trees surrounding the clearing, his arm in front of his face, attempting to fend off the stench coming from the mouth of the cave. Ravna saw jeans and T-shirts, blond hair and bald skulls. He did not see Karen’s remains.
“Your etiquette leaves something to be desired.”
Ravna spun to see Gaki’s silhouette against the black void of the cave. The creature held a wet tube of intestine in one hand, the end of it wrapping around his neck like a pet boa constrictor. Gaki’s entire lower face remained covered in the coagulating blood of those who had comprised his feast at the altar.
“Where is Karen?” Ravna asked again.
Gaki shook his head. He raised his right arm and wagged a bony index finger at Ravna.
Ravna spun as he heard the crack of dry wood coming from the other side of the fire pit. Someone else had reached the end of the trail, ready to enter the fray.
***
“Heya, sir. How’s things going?”
Ravna stepped to the side of the fire pit so he could see all of Jasper. The dying fire cast a red glow on his skin, the whites of his eyes cutting through the darkness of night.
“I should’ve seen through you,” Ravna said.
“Shoulda. But di’n’t,” replied Jasper.
Ravna turned to look over his shoulder. Gaki remained standing in the mouth of the cave, his arm twirling the segment of intestine wrapped around his neck.
“You were waiting for us.”
“That or y’all got some bad luck. I’m guessin’ there’s some of that, too.”
Ravna walked around the fire until he stood an arm’s length from Jasper. He saw the young man cradling a knife in his right hand, blade curved, sharpened, and polished for a single purpose.
“How many?” Ravna asked.
“You don’t really wanna know, sir. What you really wanna know is what happened to your missus,” Jasper said, using his free hand to hitch up the belt buckle riding low on his groin.
“I swear, if—”
“Nah,” interrupted Jasper. “Crazy fuck wanted her to himself. Wouldn’t let me even sample the merchandise. Ain’t my type, anyways,” he said, clearly lying.
Ravna spat at Jasper’s feet and stepped closer. “Get on with it. I’m not going to be the demon’s entertainment,” he said.
“Ya better hope you ain’t his dinner,” replied Jasper. The young man swung the blade through the air, and it brushed past Ravna’s nose. “Ya better hope it’s my blade that takes you to that cold, dark place.”
Ravna stepped back, realizing that his bare fists would not match up well to a steel blade. Jasper lunged forward, this time thrusting the knife at Ravna’s midsection rather than slicing at his face. Ravna sidestepped the attack and spun to face Jasper. He looked into the young man’s eyes and saw fatigue, and he thought that, despite their age difference, he himself had not yet been worn down by the entity in the cave. Ravna had not had to serve such a profane master.
“You don’t want me dead,” Ravna said, the revelation surprising himself as much as Jasper. “You could’ve killed me at the station. He wants me alive.”
Jasper’s face contorted with anger. He barked and growled, his teeth gnashing as he aimed his jaw at Gaki. “Told ya he’d figure me out. Let me finish him.”
Gaki’s hand came up, palm outward. He delivered his answer without muttering a sound.
“Fuck!” yelled Jasper. “Fuck your bald, filthy ass.” Jasper turned back to Ravna, realizing
that his outrage would be better spent on the human rather than the subhuman. “Just hold still and lemme do what I need to do. You know he’s gonna get his way. You and him got history, don’t you?”
Ravna sensed the hesitation in Jasper’s question and decided to exploit it even if it gave him just a few extra seconds. “More so than you. I know what he does to his tools when they wear out.”
“Shut up,” Jasper said, flailing his arm in the air and following it with a kick that missed Ravna’s legs by several feet.
“He’ll chew on you next. You’re nothing but a bag of muscles that brings him what he wants. Once he gets it, or can find a way of getting his own, you’re done.”
Jasper stopped and pulled his ball cap down on his forehead. His chest heaved, and his eyes opened wide with rage. He lunged forward again, this time striking Ravna on the side of his face with an open hand. Ravna recoiled, stumbling over the fire and falling into the dirt. Jasper moved closer, glancing at Gaki first.
The creature shook its head back and forth.
“Why the fuck not? I won’t kill him, promise. I’ll just rough him up a bit.”
While Jasper was talking to Gaki, Ravna swept his right leg around until his shin made contact with the back of Jasper’s leg. Jasper doubled over and fell backward, clutching his Achilles tendon.
Ravna leapt at him, wrestling the knife from his hand. The blade clanged in the darkness as it struck something in the brush. Without his knife, Jasper rolled over and jumped up with both fists in front of his face.
“No matter. I’ll beat your face into your skull instead,” he said.
Ravna ducked twice as Jasper’s arms cut through the air, coming within inches of his face. Jasper threw three more punches, each one coming closer until the last uppercut connected with the underside of Ravna’s chin. He dropped to his knees, the dying fire seeming to float in front of his eyes. Jasper connected with two more jabs, the second striking Ravna in the right eye and swelling it shut instantly. Ravna rocked back until his feet were beneath his body, wobbling on his knees like a drunk sinner seeking forgiveness.
“Git up,” Jasper said.
Ravna put one hand to the dirt and looked over his shoulder at Gaki. The creature appeared to be smiling, his blood-smeared face cut by a thin, sneering mouth. Gaki nodded at Jasper before continuing to play with the human remains hanging from his neck.
“I said git up,” Jasper repeated.
He kicked Ravna in the midsection, knocking the wind from his chest. Ravna rolled over, gasping yet unable to draw air into his lungs. He hissed and spat, feeling as though he was trapped underwater.
“Stand up so I can bind your hands. I swear, if you make this any harder on me I’m gonna be sure he does her right in front of you. Now. Get. Up.”
Ravna heard the threat and knew exactly what Jasper meant. He tried not to think about Karen and what Gaki could do to her. Ravna had seen the demon’s work before. He knew the gas-station attendant was not making idle threats. With all of the strength he could muster, still woozy from the blows to his head, Ravna obeyed the young man and stood. He stretched his arms outward, pushing his wrists together. Jasper coughed and then looked deep into Ravna’s eyes. With the quick hands of youth, he drew a coiled rope from his back pocket and encircled Ravna’s hands. Jasper brought the ends down and underneath before knotting them tightly on Ravna’s flesh.
“Lift your chin,” Jasper said.
Ravna ignored him, knowing what was about to happen and not able to force himself to submit.
“C’mon, sir. Y’all are makin’ this way harder than it has to be. Do what you’re fucking told so I can get back to my office and my girlie mags.”
Ravna turned to see Gaki stepping back into the shadows of the cave. The creature did not turn and walk inside, and it did not take a step backward. It appeared as though the cave itself had opened its jaw and swallowed the demon.
Realizing that he was now out of options, Ravna turned back to face Jasper. His nose collided with Jasper’s fist, which brought a flash of resplendent color followed by utter darkness.
Thursday, September 5th
The mental anguish hurt more than the physical pain. He could endure that, if necessary, as long as his body held out. This ability was in his DNA. People withstood incredible circumstances in the name of survival. Mothers had lifted two-ton vehicles off a crushed child, and men had amputated their own limbs for the sake of freedom. Facing the ultimate ending, humans were capable of anything.
Ravna thought about that, wondering if he had become Gaki’s test subject. He imagined the creature watching from a vantage point in the room above, its grotesque, bulbous head against the floor, one eye peering through a rotted knothole in the wood. Gaki would watch, waiting to see what depths Ravna would visit to stay alive.
Then, as he had numerous times during the ordeal, Ravna thought of Karen. Hours would pass when she would not enter his mind, his own suffering demanding too much psychic energy to devote any to her wellbeing. But eventually he would think of her, almost feel the brush of her hand on his face, and that would force tears from his eyes. He suspected Gaki was saving her like a death-row prisoner hovering over a last meal. Gaki would march her out and subject her flesh to unspeakable acts while Ravna would be forced to struggle with his bonds, the frayed rope digging deeper into his skin until it rubbed the bone raw.
Ravna looked around the room again, the jumbled, decaying pipes sweating in the damp basement. Empty brackets hung where copper pipe used to run before vagrants and drug addicts stripped the house of whatever salvageable metal remained. This spoke to Ravna about his situation in a way that words could not. He was prisoner in a house that had long since been abandoned and left to die, and now he would do the same within it. There would be no routine police patrol hearing his screams, no neighborhood watch detecting something odd happening in the basement. Ravna could smell the despair of lost decades.
Jasper must have rigged the electricity, or maybe he’s running a genny out back, thought Ravna, trying to keep his mind occupied with pragmatic details of the situation as he tried to avoid the more dire ones. He’s a mechanic. Surely found some way to deliver a bit of live wire in here.
He looked up and was able to see the old knob and tube wiring running along the floor joist. The aged, black insulation on the wire looked frayed but intact. Those stripping the vacant house would not have bothered, the effort to remove the old copper wire not being worth its price at the scrapyard. They had also left the iron piping that fed natural gas to the old furnace in the corner. Ravna looked at it, following the black pipe as it snaked down the walls and to an ancient meter covered in cobwebs.
“Gaki!” he screamed. “Jasper!”
Ravna looked again at the thin line of light at the top of the steps leading into what he assumed was the kitchen. He could not remember much from the time Jasper knocked him out until he arrived here, bound and in pain. They had not shown themselves, yet Ravna knew they were in the house. He could smell their stench and feel the vibration of the floorboards above his head as Jasper paced back and forth. It had to be Jasper, as Ravna did not think Gaki moved in that way. As if his thoughts had stirred mental activity above, Ravna heard the floor crack and saw a shadow pass on the other side of the door. It opened with a rusty creak, the blinding light filling the doorway and surrounding the figure now coming down the steps. Ravna knew it was not Gaki, and he knew it was not Jasper, yet there seemed to be a familiarity with the form. Ravna closed his eyes, the excessive light burrowing holes in his forehead and exacerbating the headache caused by Jasper’s fists.
The form came down the steps and stood in front of Ravna. A hand reached up to pull the rusty chain tethered to the switch on the light socket, lighting the room with the yellow glow of a single, hanging bulb. Once Ravna’s eyes had adjusted and he was able to turn his head upward, he was not surprised by the person standing before him.
***
“Hello, Ravna.”
Ravna closed his eyes and reopened them. “I could barely make out my name inside the closet,” Ravna said with a bloodstained smile spreading on his face. “Why blood?” he asked. “Was the hospital short on paper and pencil?”
Drew waved a hand at him and sat down on the second step. “You got the message. That’s all that matters.”
“I guess,” replied Ravna. “Writing in blood is a bit over the top, even for you. That horror-flick gag played out in the Eighties.”
Ravna was not surprised that Drew sat before him, clothed in the nondescript garb issued by the Rader Facility for the Study of the Mind. The man looked the same as he had the last time Ravna visited.
“You prefer Drew or Gaki? Guessing you’re Drew when you’re not shoving human intestines into your face. Save the dirty work for the ugly son of a bitch.”
“I like the beard,” replied Drew. “But the buzz cut does you no favors. I think you’re balding, my friend.”
“Where’s Karen?”
Drew stood and shook his head, spinning and looking up as if examining the underside of the floor above. “Here. The old man isn’t. I guess I took care of your ‘sensei,’ showed him who the master was.”
Ravna closed his eyes. He could still see Mashoka’s warm smile. He decided not to take the bait. “I asked you about Karen.”
“You left me to rot in Ward C. You have no idea what they do to people in that place.”
“They try to help you,” replied Ravna. “Get you right.”
“Oh yes!” Drew laughed. “That’s exactly what they do. They care.” The words oozed from his mouth, covered in insincerity.
“What did you expect to happen? After all of the pain you caused, did you think you’d get an all-expenses-paid vacation to the Bahamas? You’re lucky they didn’t strap your ass to the chair and throw the switch.”
Drew stared at Ravna as if unsure how to continue. “That place is nothing but a proving ground for spoiled rich kids fresh out of medical school. They’re cutting their teeth on my flesh. Don’t sit there and profess its noble intentions. You don’t know shit about that.”
