Demonworld

by Kyle B. Stiff

Saul looked him up and down, paused for a long time, then smiled and said, “Of course.” Saul held the knife forward, his palm open but his thumb against the hilt, ready to grasp the thing if Wodi made a move for it.

  Wodi looked closely at the precious gleaming steel, and he wanted it badly. No doubt it was hard enough to hack wood, but also sharp enough to open flesh. The thing was fashioned with wicked grooves near its base and a curved black handle such that the sight alone might be intimidating enough to scare off any attacker who valued his life. Wodi saw his own green eyes staring back at him through the mirror of the blade’s surface.

  But if there was one thing that Wodi truly despised, it was bickering over small things. In his youth he had seen his peers throw all dignity out the window over fights concerning the smallest things. He knew of two thick-headed simpletons who had not spoken in years because of the outcome of a sports game that neither one had even attended. He remembered shrinking into himself as a child when his parents would fight, doors slamming, words running in circles. What if Wodi had had the knife earlier in the day? Would he have stood his ground against the great demon, wrestled it to the ground, and stabbed it through the forehead? Not likely.

  He had a decent spear now. It was given to him completely by accident, and it would do fine in all kinds of situations. “What a blade!” said Wodi, nodding and backing away.

  The effect was instantaneous. Saul’s face opened into a wide grin, for he had finally encountered a potential ally in this hostile world. “It looks dangerous,” said Saul. “Fortunately I haven’t had to use it yet.”

  “And you say it was on you when you woke?”

  “That’s the thing,” said Saul. “I was never unconscious like the others. Maybe my tolerance to the drug was higher, or maybe-”

  “Woah, wait!” said Wodi, mind reeling. “Do you know how we got here?”

  “I do,” said Saul. “Guardians brought us here by airship.”

  Wodi sat down heavily. Guardians! he thought. Our protectors!

  Saul sat beside him and continued. “I was out on the town, and I remember feeling like I’d been stung by something. I got weak and groggy, and I remember someone helping me - except he wasn’t helping me. I was being kidnapped. I passed out, but I don’t think it was for very long. When I woke up, I was tied up and gagged in a van. There were others tied up as well. I saw Guardians bringing more people, all of them unconscious. They never spoke, and they kept their masks and helms on the entire time. When there were seven of us, they drove us to an airship. It was in the middle of the night. You guys were all out cold, and since there was nothing I could do anyway... I just pretended to be unconscious.”

  “So they flew us out here...?”

  “And dumped us out, one by one.”

  Wodi looked at Saul closely. He considered that there was a small chance that Saul was actually a rich playboy who was paying a lot of money to hunt down live human prey, and right now he was playing a mind game with Wodi in order to distract him before killing him. But Saul did not seem like the type of person who could hunt down anything, except maybe a bag of greenweed. He seemed just as lost as Wodi, so a little trust seemed in order.

  “Well, don’t laugh, because this is going to sound absurd,” said Wodi, reaching into his back pocket, “but our captors were kind enough to leave me with a map.”

  “Bullshit!” said Saul.

  “Of course not!” said Wodi. “You expect anything less from Haven’s fine defenders?”

  Saul shook his head as the two pored over the map. Wodi began to bring up his plan for heading north towards the old mines, but Saul cut him off quickly, saying, “So they dump us out in the middle of Hell, but they give us these fun little clues and tools to give us an “edge” over the competition out here. Doesn’t it seem really contrived to you?”

  “Yeah,” said Wodi, “but most things are pretty contrived. The entire world is like that. Some idiot makes an arbitrary statement, or an arbitrary rule, and after a while everyone forgets that it was just an idiot like themselves who made the thing up. We forget to laugh at the bullshit and start to take it seriously. And of course it’s usually the dullest, dimmest, loudest people who set the rules... but, you know, that’s what we have to work with.”

  Wodi rose and determined north by the sun, but Saul sat with his head in his hands.

  He’s never had to stay up late with a mop bucket and a big store to clean, thought Wodi, or had to deal with an unending line of angry customers.

  “Come on,” said Wodi. “We’re already twice as well off as we were an hour before. If we head this way, maybe we’ll reach the river and we can get something to drink. And who knows, maybe we’ll find some of the others along the way!”

  Saul nodded and rose unsteadily, then followed Wodi along the dark path.

  Chapter Three

  Genesis Unbound

  Afternoon dragged on until the shafts of light that cut through the canopy of leaves bent and dulled around the edges. Wodi and Saul made a game of trying to convince one another not to eat any strange fruit they came across, each describing a scene more morbid than the last. Unless they came upon some godlike madman who tended the oasis and knew everything about it, they would never know which plants were healthy, which were poisonous, and which were crawling with microbes that their immune systems would not be able to handle.

  Wodi tried to concentrate on the path ahead, but his mind was slipping with hunger. So it was that he was caught completely unawares when they entered a clearing and a large, young man with a club sprang out at them, screaming for blood. Wodi leaped into the air, both knees tucked into his chest, then scampered away in time to see Saul’s spear spin through the air away from the attacker as he fell ass-first into a bush.

  “Got ya now!” bellowed the attacker, his voice a perfect imitation of someone from eastern Haven. “On the ground, or I cave your heads in!”

  “Wait, Marlon, wait!” someone cried from the woods. Wodi could hear the second speaker tearing through the brush to reach them. Wodi’s mind was jarred with fright, but he quickly read their attacker and saw that it was indeed another exile from Haven, a stout young man with dark hair. His face was pumping like a bellows, drawing in air, itching for a battle. He had thick arms, and Wodi did not doubt that the youth could easily club them both to death.

  Saul struggled up from the bush, hair full of leaves, shirt twisted about and bunched up in his arm pits. He held the combat knife in both hands, shaking like the thing was a chainsaw, and shouted, “Wodi get back!”

  The attacker shouted, “Hermann he’s got a knife!” and swung his club at Saul, who twisted out of the way. “Gimme the knife! Gimme the goddamn knife!” he shouted, swinging the club again and again. Saul backed away through the clearing, then ran in a circle, the knife extended behind him. The pair ended up trampling through thick underbrush, huffing and wheezing. Saul screamed for Wodi to run while he held off the assailant, but the newcomer had such a fight with the underbrush that he seemed to forget Saul entirely.

  Finally the second newcomer - the one who had shouted from the woods earlier - arrived panting, sweating, leaning on his knees. He was an older man, perhaps in his forties, thin and with a short black beard. He nodded at Wodi but could not speak.

  “You’re from Haven?” said Wodi.

  The man nodded, panting savagely.

  “So are we,” said Wodi. “Listen, can you get your friend to calm down?”

  The man wheezed, then managed to say, “I’m sorry about this.”

  “These things happen,” said Wodi. “But we’ve got to break them up before someone gets hurt.”

  “Yes,” said the other. “You’re absolutely right.” He considered the situation as the pair stumbled back into the clearing, weapons raised. The older man clapped his hands, said, “Marlon! Hey, Marlon! Marlon. Marlon. Marlon! Marlon, don’t you think we should stop and talk to them for a minute? Marlon? Marlon. Hey, Marlon. Hey, Marlon!”

  “
Kill you!” said Marlon. He jammed the end of the club into Saul’s chest, driving the air from him. Wodi ran and forced himself between the pair.

  “That’s enough!” said Wodi. “We’re all Havenders here!”

  “Bullshit!” shouted Marlon. “Where did he get a knife if he’s one of us? He’s one of... one of them!”

  “We’ll settle that later,” said Wodi. “Right now-”

  “I’m a trained Guardian,” said Marlon, “and I demand you hand the knife over so-”

  “Guardian?” screamed Saul. “Wodi - he’s one of them! One of the guys who brought us here!”

  “We don’t know that!” snapped Wodi. “You said they wore their masks and helms!”

  “Guardians brought us here?” Marlon laughed derisively. “Like any real Guardian would ever hurt a civilian!”

  “You’ve been trying to kill me!” Saul shrieked, his voice an icepick in Wodi’s ears.

  “I would’ve made it painless,” said Marlon, reaching across Wodi to grab Saul’s bunched-up shirt. He pulled him close and Wodi was crushed in a sweating, stinking sandwich of limbs. The older man stood nearby, one hand on his head, brow knotted up with worry.

  “Alright,” hissed Wodi, pushing against the pair. He saw only one way out, and said, “Saul... give him the knife.”

  “Are you crazy?” gasped Saul. He pushed against Wodi and Marlon with the knife extended far behind him.

  “It’s like this,” said Wodi. “He’s a trained Guardian. I know you want to hang on to it, but if we’re going to survive this, then the knife needs to be with the one who’s trained to use it.”

  “Damn straight!” said Marlon.

  “Besides, that knife is a close-combat weapon. Guys like us who don’t know how to fight, we need to stick with spears so we can keep our distance.” He waited in silence for a while, then said, “You see what I mean, Saul?”

  Saul stood in silence for a long time. Wodi waited, still pressed uncomfortably close to the pair. On the one hand, he felt like a traitor, like he’d sold out his companion. On the other hand, he remembered the awful encounter with the demon, and he knew that the line that divided “us” and “them” was much wider than what neighborhood in Haven one happened to be born in. The enemies here did not vote differently or bet on a different sports team - they were sadistic monsters that would suck out a victim’s eyeballs, chew off his tongue, then bury him in the dirt up to the neck so they could eat the rest later.

  “Fine,” said Saul. He extended the knife, but held the blade outward so that Marlon had to fumble Saul’s hand away from the grip.

  “Oh thank goodness,” said the older man, smiling with relief. “Let’s have some proper introductions, right? I’m Doctor Mercule Hermann, and this is Marlon. And you-”

  “You weren’t given anything?” said Wodi. “An object, a clue?”

  “We didn’t get shit,” said Marlon. “Why would we?”

  “I need to show you the map,” said Wodi. “There’s a lot to discuss.”

  ***

  The newcomers pored over the map and Wodi spoke of his plan to return to Haven. He went over his points for why his plan was, perhaps, improbable and overwhelming - but not impossible. Hermann shook his head over and over, left the map, walked in a circle, returned to the map, left again. Marlon said nothing, only glared at the map, gripping it in both hands. Saul was still too angry to add anything, nor even look directly at anyone.

  Finally Marlon handed back the map and said, “You’re right. Staying put and waiting for help isn’t an option. Probably the only people who know we’re here are the ones that brought us.”

  Wodi smiled as the mood shifted. They were going back home, and with Marlon’s weight behind the plan, that was the end of it. Wodi took back the map. As he tucked it into his pocket, he could not help but think of himself as the group’s official seer. The Keeper of the Map. He Who Gives Direction.

  “Making the journey will at least occupy us,” said Hermann. “It’s something to keep us from turning against one another.”

  Marlon scrunched his face up at Hermann. “This isn’t about dicking around with some busywork so we can pass the time, my man.” He set to work hacking at a long branch with the knife. “I aim to make it out of here alive.”

  They rested while Marlon worked on the branch. Wodi waited for Saul to speak, but he did not, so Wodi said, “There should be three more of us out there.”

  “What do you mean?” said Marlon, hands pausing. A shrill bird cried out far away.

  “Saul says he saw seven of us brought here,” said Wodi. “Isn’t that right, Saul?”

  “Mmn,” said Saul. He paused, then blurted out, “And it was Guardians who flew us here.”

  “Doubt it,” said Marlon, suddenly uninterested in the details.

  “I say it was,” said Saul. “They wore Guardian armor. And they had access to an airplane.”

  “Fakes,” said Marlon, eyes burning into the branch.

  “These other three people,” said Hermann. “We need them to hear us, so we can find one another. If we can all get together, then-”

  “Can’t,” said Wodi. “I’ve already run into one demon, and there’s probably plenty more out there. Anything we do to attract attention is going to bring more bad than good.”

  “You ran into a demon?” said Marlon. “Bullshit...”

  Wodi told Marlon and Hermann of his encounter with the demon, and how he escaped when the demon fought another creature, and also how he came by the white spear of the torturer. While Marlon did not seem to believe the story, he did agree that moving quietly was best.

  “But that spear of yours,” said Marlon, “I don’t think it belonged to a demon. As far as I know, they don’t use tools, not like we do. That spear probably belonged to a ghoul.”

  “Ghoul?” said Hermann.

  “It’s a little humanoid creature,” said Marlon. “They’re stupid, they’re mean, and they usually carry disease. They use simple tools. They travel in packs, but they’re not exactly cooperative with one another. They’re not related to demonkind.”

  “I didn’t realize you were an expert in this sort of thing,” said Hermann.

  Marlon winked, said, “Guardians have to take classes in hostile zoology. But I only passed ’cause I cheated off someone else, so don’t press me for details.”

  With that, he finished carving the spear, blew on it, jammed the point into his palm to test it, then handed it to Hermann. “There. If you see something that isn’t human, stick this thing in it.”

  “Right...” said the doctor. Wodi laughed at his limp-wristed stance.

  Marlon stood and suddenly turned towards Wodi. “So you saw a demon. Alright. But... did it speak?”

  Wodi swallowed his great discomfort, then said, “No. I’m not sure it was capable of speech. It did... sound kind of human, though.”

  Marlon nodded thoughtfully. “Cause I’ve heard some of them can do that. And they communicate over distance somehow. You’re lucky you didn’t run into more than one.”

  “This one was bad enough, just as it was. Let’s move on.”

  ***

  Night set in without warning. For a moment Wodi realized he could see only black silhouettes and fragments of a red sky through the black leafy canopy. The effect was like staring up into forbidding stained glass windows in a cathedral dedicated to telling the history of the world through the record of its nightmares. But the effect soon faded, and then there was darkness and they could no longer even guess at which direction they were headed.

  “I can hear a stream ahead,” said Marlon. “Let’s head there and see about stopping for the night.”

  They crept and stumbled along. Wodi took his eyes off the path and stared into the darkness. The black night sucked up everything until only the phantom lights in his eyes seemed real. It would be a terrible thing to be alone in that, he thought. He did not have much hope for the exiles they had not found.

  Suddenly they ca
me upon a thin stream glittering with faint starlight from a break in the canopy above. They clattered over a bed of stones and lined up beside one another. Wodi watched a strip of mist following the stream. It was like a dim mirror image of the water, a shadow cast by the world of the living onto a world beyond.

  “What is it?” said Marlon.

  “Nothing,” said Wodi, torn from his thoughts.

  “Looked like you were thinking of something,” said Marlon. The air was getting cold and the stream was frigid, but Marlon stuck his entire head in and rose up spluttering and spewing.

  “This is as good a place to stop as any,” said Hermann, but he gave no reason and only let the statement hang in the air. Wodi saw Saul turn to Marlon, and Wodi knew then that Marlon was indeed the closest thing they had to a leader.

  “Should we build a fire?” said Saul.

  “No way,” said Marlon. “But let’s fan out for a minute and see if there’s anything in the area we should be mindful of.” He thought for a moment, then added, “God damn I’m starving.”

  The four split up and fanned out. Wodi could hear Saul stabbing noisily at bushes. “I can’t see shit out here,” Saul mumbled, then, much louder, “Marlon, I can’t see shit out here man.”

  Wodi reasoned that there might be more going on along the stream, so he followed it. He spied an overhanging lip of stone near the bank. He poked the spear of the torturer inside the dark crevice, hoping there might be something alive that they could eat, but also half hoping there would be nothing inside.

  The spear clattered against stone. There was nothing to be found. Wodi sighed, leaned his head against the stone to rest for a moment, then rose. It was then that something like a leathery vice clamped down on his spear arm, spun him around, then wrapped around his neck and jaw.

  Horrified, unable to breathe, he saw only darkness but felt hot, rotting breath singe his face. Then purple light, the terrible purple light that he could never forget, blazed to life before him. It was the demon from before, hunched over him. Long spidery fingers were wrapped around his throat while the other hand held his spear arm to the side. He was trapped in its grip; his blood pounded so hard that his heart had a better chance of escaping his chest than he would have of fighting free from the demon’s grip.

  Because the light was coming from its chest, Wodi could only make out the dark outline of its face. It was like a huge, distended human skull with flesh stretched around it. Long jagged wounds, still fresh and open, covered the demon’s face and shoulders. Wodi could not see the eyes, but from the shadows he could feel the thing’s rage.