Demonworld

by Kyle B. Stiff

  “This is my authority,” Marlon said, raising his club.

  Hermann whooped loudly and said, “Is he gonna bash her brains out! Ha ha! Hey Peter, look! Is he gonna bash her brains out or what?”

  “Good lord!” said Peter. “Shut up, Hermann!” Peter grabbed Marlon’s shoulder and said, “Easy boy! Easy! Look, you’re the leader, alright, kid? We’re just a little stressed out, so-”

  “I’m not stressed out,” said Iduna.

  “Me neither!” said Marlon.

  “Alright, alright,” said Peter. He ignored Hermann, who was either sobbing or laughing, and said, “Whatever the case, let’s just take a second and remember what it means to be a Guardian, alright? Control yourself. We depend on you, boy. You know? We depend on you.”

  They fumed in silence for a moment, then Marlon said, “I… I wasn’t going to…” He lifted his head, then said, “What’s that smell?”

  The sun fell over the edge of the mountains. All was red and black in hard angles. The wind was full of rot, as if the gates to a world of decay were opened wide. They heard a screaming chorus, soft at first, then louder, then saw a great shivering shadow in the woods below. Then the ghouls burst forth, fifteen freaks running on three or four limbs with knives held in their teeth or spears held high, and with their black spear leader in the middle. Their throats were torn by their unending scream, minds lost to some god of destruction.

  “Don’t move, any of you!” Marlon shouted. “We’ve got the high ground!”

  At once Iduna ran and grabbed Hermann, who sat against a stone and watched the ghouls with vacant disinterest. “Come on!” she said, hauling him to his feet.

  “Peter, hold this spot!” Marlon continued. “We’ve gotta hold the high ground or–”

  His words were drowned out in the tide of white berserkers leaping up the hill. Peter barely had a chance to raise his spear before the storm of limbs was upon him. He swung wildly, felt sharp blows and hot breath, then his defense became a wild backpedaling rush. He turned to run further up the hill but several ghouls leaped upon his back, biting and slashing, and he fell sideways and rolled heavily down the hill with seven white devils behind him.

  One savage leaped at Marlon and he swung his club, knocking teeth and eyeballs and brain matter across the sky. As the body fell into the others, Marlon scrambled backwards up the hill, fearful because he knew something had changed in the ghouls. Something had erased their cowardice and turned them rabid. The leader urged the seven others to follow Marlon, then crept around the side of the hill, unwilling to run into a fight when his spear could fly for him.

  ***

  Hermann regained control of himself in the woods at the base of the hill and pulled his arm from Iduna’s grasp.

  “We have to go!” said Iduna. “Don’t you see? The others, they’re already-”

  Hermann pulled away when she reached for him. Ever since he’d been tortured on that first terrible night, his will had been broken. He knew something had crawled into the space in his mind that had been left vacant, and the endless fight against that other presence was exhausting, utterly exhausting. He did not believe in supernatural forces, but he had been forced to watch himself say and do terrible things, and he hated what he’d become. A burden, something less than human.

  But now he had breathing room. Whatever was in him was now in the ghouls. He saw the spear in Iduna’s hands and jerked it away from her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry about everything!”

  He turned and ran back to the hill.

  ***

  Marlon stumbled between two tall stones at the top of the hill. He’d planned on using the stones to help break up the pack, but the seven poured through the opening behind him so fast that he only ended up swinging his club, knocking it against the stones on either side, then falling over as the ghouls spread out. As he scrambled backwards on his ass, one ghoul flew in from the side and bit down on his wrist. He screamed as his hand went numb and the club bounced away. Others bounded around the stones, growling like dogs. Marlon pulled free his combat knife and jammed it into the skull of the ghoul on his wrist, then pried the thing off and tossed both knife and ghoul to the side.

  Marlon staggered to his feet before the circle of white bodies could close on him. He ran to the club as one ghoul knelt over it. Marlon lashed out with a vicious kick that sent the creature soaring. He grasped the club with his off-hand just as another ghoul leaped at him from the stones overhead; in one smooth motion he batted the thing, crumbled its torso into a sack of bones, and splattered it against a stone wall.

  Five ghouls surrounded him, jabbing and hissing. Marlon was exhausted and knew that his options were disappearing with the dying sun.

  ***

  The ghoul leader circled the hill. Because his god was in his mind, he knew how the fight on the hilltop was going without seeing it. He was charged, alive, free of all doubts. Finally he reached his vantage point – he saw Marlon with his back exposed as the others herded him into the leader’s kill zone. Marlon began to move and would have disappeared behind a stone, but one of the ghouls threw himself into Marlon’s path. Marlon clubbed the creature to death – and remained perfectly positioned for the black spear.

  The ghoul leader smiled, then kissed the spear. He raised his weapon and bent his body back –

  At that moment he heard a whistling in the wind. He turned and saw a small spear gliding toward him. The thing struck the ground nowhere near him, but by some awful turn of luck the thing bounced off a stone and the butt of it struck him under his jaw. Pain grinded all across his face and tears welled in his eyes. Rage blasted through him.

  In the distance he saw Hermann. The doctor bellowed in triumph and, even though he was weaponless, he ran toward the lead ghoul. Overcome with fury, the ghoul ignored the inner voice that told him to ignore the small doctor; instead, he dug in his feet and threw the vicious black spear with all his might. The spear tore through the sky like a lightning bolt, then passed through Hermann’s body, tearing ribcage and heart to pieces and flinging him down the hill. The ghoul spit, cursing the man as he rubbed his jaw.

  He looked at the hilltop and saw Marlon staring directly at him, mouth hanging open.

  “You son of a bitch,” Marlon hissed.

  Marlon dashed through the circle of ghouls, braining one with his club as he tore through them. The others dashed around to stop him from getting to their leader. Marlon tossed his club into them, tripping and scattering them. One moved too slowly and, as Marlon picked up speed, he leaped and fell upon the thing, crushing organs as he landed and sending great coils of sausage flying on either side.

  “Son of a bitch!” cried Marlon, eyes burning into the leader as he ran still faster. “You’ll pay for that! You’ll pay for everything!”

  Before the large ghoul could decide whether to move or dig in his feet, Marlon crashed into him. The two hit the ground and rolled down the hill in a sickening tumult of limbs and senseless caterwauling. Marlon gagged on the creature’s rotting breath. As they neared the bottom the ghoul tucked his head against Marlon’s shoulder, then they crashed into a bed of stone. Marlon’s face took the full force of the collision. The ghoul’s head bounced painfully, but as he crawled away from Marlon he was entranced by the sight of his foe’s broken teeth and pool of blood spreading from sliced mouth and tongue. He saw something magical and overwhelming in the vision of agony, and was able to ignore his own nausea.

  Finally the spirit of the lord of the forest that was in the ghoul was able to pull himself from the sight and the ghoul was urged to bring more pain to the human. He lifted himself up and prepared to finish the slaughter.

  They killed Hermann! Marlon thought. They killed Wodi and Jules! They killed Saul, they’re probably killing Peter, and they’ll kill Iduna next! He lifted his heavy, aching head, then thought, I can’t let them get away with this!

  The ghoul lashed out with a kick and, still on his knees, Marlon grabbed
the monster’s scab-covered limb and pulled him forward. He grasped the ghoul’s waist, howled like an animal, then stood and fell backwards, smashing the ghoul’s head on the rocks behind him. He staggered away from the ghoul, who gagged and spat a thick wad of black blood.

  “Doesn’t feel so good when it’s happening to you, does it?” said Marlon.

  The two stood and faced one another in the shadow of the graveyard hill.

  ***

  Peter flew down the hill like a legless pig and rolled into a stinking bog choked with black reeds. He rose up spluttering and waving his arms, then pushed deeper into the sea of mud in hopes that he would be left alone. To his horror, the seven little fiends leaped in after him. Pond scum clung to their bodies like robes and Peter thought of priests marching toward their sacrifice.

  He was unarmed. Any moment he expected the ghouls to throw their spears. To his surprise, those armed with spears simply let them drop.

  Why aren’t they throwing spears at me? he wondered, casting about for some kind of weapon. In a flash he understood: Their small spears could not guarantee a kill. He could potentially arm himself with a thrown spear. They aimed to drag him down into the muck, even if they died themselves.

  He looked up at the darkening red sky. The monsters were almost upon him, trudging slowly, eyes dead and hungry. I can’t die here! he thought. At once he saw a vision of thirty-three interlocking gears turning, turning, turning, and he wondered, Is it my fault that we’re here? Founders, Fathers, forgive me!

  A shadow passed over Peter, swift and silent. He saw something like a ghoul hanging over him, arms and legs raised, armed with a wide earth-colored blade. He thought for a moment that it was a hyper-evolved ghoul come to claim his soul. But it was the boy, Wodi, shirtless and pale and shining with a halo of sweat. Wodi crashed into the bog behind Peter and brought the sword of the dogman pup crashing into the skull of the nearest ghoul. The ghoul’s head split and the blade continued down, scattering black teeth and shattering jawbone.

  Peter was dumbfounded at the whirlwind of violence. Wodi jerked the blade free with a twist of his arm and swung it into another ghoul. With one pass the blade severed fingers, cleaved a flint blade in half, splattered eyeballs, and even tore the ghoul’s nose free from its face. The ghoul screamed as rotting ooze spurted down its face, then it fell back among its brothers, scattering them.

  “That way!” cried Wodi, pointing back the way he’d come. Peter scrambled towards the bank as best he could while Wodi covered him.

  One clever ghoul rose up from the scum beside Wodi and the boy instantly grasped the thing’s neck. Black teeth chomping, filthy nails raking the air. Wodi lifted the shivering bundle and, with his sword arm, hacked once, twice, three times at the ghoul’s side. The spine stopped the third chop, but when Wodi freed the sword from the ghoul’s innards a great rush of black came spilling out with a tide of vomit-colored organs and coils.

  Covered in sweat and filth, hair clinging to his head, Wodi dropped the dead thing and turned to Peter. “I’m right behind you!” said Wodi. “Get on dry ground and we’ll be fine!”

  “Gods, you’re a savior, boy!” said Peter.

  The two reached the bank and dragged themselves over the side. Wodi stood over the ghouls that now seemed to move in slow motion through the sludge below. Their barks were weak with exhaustion. He felt the weight of the dripping blade in his hand.

  “They’re already dead,” said Wodi.

  ***

  The domination of the lord of the valley abandoned the minor ghouls. While Wodi finished off the creatures trapped in the bog, the remnants of those who’d been on the hilltop were free to fight over the combat knife, then take it and scatter into the surrounding woods.

  But the lord of the black valley, the demon called Blindness, only left them so that he could concentrate all of his powers into the ghoul pack-leader. He and Marlon fought like maddened beasts – grappling, throwing one another, bellowing, punching, rock-throwing. Covered in blood, blinded by blood in their eyes. Marlon was exhausted, but the ghoul’s demonic guardian forced his exhaustion into a deep well in a forgotten corner of his mind – eventually the ghoul elbowed Marlon in his throat and tossed him to the ground. As the ghoul climbed atop Marlon, the Havender curled into a fetal position. The ghoul rained blow after blow on top of his arms. Laceration upon laceration, bruises spreading like a sick rainbow, accents of black blood spraying from the ghoul’s mouth and nose. The violence was intoxicating and the ghoul moaned with glee – he would be triumphant!

  But after several long minutes the ghoul’s body very nearly gave out. His heart would soon explode, so the possessing demon relaxed its grip. The ghoul leaned forward, breathing, spitting occasionally, and looked for a stone that he could use to finish off the human…

  In a flash Marlon upended the ghoul and was on top of him. The ghoul might have been a powerful brute, but every young Guardian was trained in the art of wrestling, which included an understanding of the “full guard” position – in which a fighter could lie on his back, cover himself, and build up his strength once more. In a panic the ghoul felt fists turning his face into hamburger, elbows turning his throat into mush, knees driving the air from him.

  Keep fighting, degenerate! Keep fighting! screamed the voice of Blindness, but the ghoul’s limbs could no longer respond. The floodgates cracked and slipped from his control as pain and exhaustion flooded the host. The beating slowed and the ghoul opened one throbbing eyelid. He saw Marlon, then saw a boot descending on his face, then he used the last ounce of his strength to close his eye.

  ***

  Iduna walked up the hill. Already a gang of vultures stalked about on stiff legs and cast their lean heads from side to side. The graves and walls were covered in shivering, oily-feathered crows. She heard wheezing, then saw Peter leaning on Wodi as they ascended from the opposite side. Both were covered in mud but Wodi looked like a terrifying savage covered in black and red paint.

  “Alive!” she said. Wodi smiled at her and waved, eyes and teeth shining through.

  Wodi stopped, said, “Who’s that down there?”

  “It’s me,” said Marlon.

  Wodi released Peter, who groaned and fell on his side, and ran down the hill to join Marlon. He stopped short when he drew near. Marlon’s arms were covered in bruises, his teeth were a checkerboard of clotted blood, and his hair was spiked with coagulation. Iduna joined Wodi, then gagged when she saw the ruined corpse of the ghoul leader.

  “Wow,” said Wodi. “Marlon, you really turned that scumbag into a work of art!”

  Marlon whirled suddenly and cried out, “Wodi? I didn’t realize that was you! Oh, man… oh, man!”

  Wodi smiled and clapped Marlon’s shoulder. Marlon patted his hand and rose slowly.

  ***

  They stood over Hermann’s body as night fell. Marlon looked to Peter, who refused to look at the body or at anyone else. Marlon sighed, then said, “Well, I’m not sure what to say. I guess being here kind of turned him into a psychopath, or somethin’.” Iduna glared at him and he quickly added, “But he, ah, he sure saved my life, so, you know… I guess that made him a pretty good doctor in the end.”

  He bent over the body and pulled at the black spear. The thing was stuck, and he ended up tugging on it sharply enough to thrash the body. Iduna stopped sobbing, her eyes wide and still. As Marlon put his foot on Hermann’s back to pull more effectively, she said, “Marlon!” He yanked, hard, and freed the spear.

  He looked from the spear to Iduna, back to the spear, then to Hermann, and said, “Uh... sorry.”

  ***

  Wodi wiped the sword of the dogman pup on the grass. He saw Iduna pick up the spear of the doctor and study it. He could tell that she found some meaning in the fact that it had been used to save a life. Marlon hefted the heavy black spear in his hands, then turned to Peter, who sat and refused to arm himself.

  “Peter,” said Marlon. “You want this spear? I was g
onna keep it as a trophy, you know, but my hand hurts so freakin’ bad I’m not even sure I could use this thing.”

  “I don’t want it,” said Peter.

  “You okay, man?”

  Peter sighed loudly, then said, “I could go for some pain killers right about now. Something to eat, a warm bed. My family. Home. Anything but this place.”

  “Well, you’re not dead yet, so I guess you’re not doing too bad.”

  “You the doctor now?” said Peter, laughing weakly. He looked at Marlon’s mouth, said, “Too bad you’re not a dentist.”

  “We should bury Hermann,” said Iduna.

  A long pause, then Marlon said, “We’re too tired. We gotta get away from here, soon. It’s dark and we gotta sleep someplace safe.”

  “I have to rest first,” said Peter.

  “That’s fine,” said Marlon, “but we gotta move soon. Don’t forget about that thing that got Saul.”

  “What thing?” said Wodi.

  “This lizard thing,” said Marlon.

  “The one I saw yesterday? It got Saul?”

  “I think. It almost got us, but there was a monkey...”

  “What monkey?”

  Marlon shook his head, said, “I’ll explain later.”

  They heard leaves crackling, then suddenly Jules was with them.

  “Hey!” said Marlon. “Where’d you come from, fish-food?”

  Jules shrugged slowly, said, “They was about fifteen ghouls runnin’ in these parts, and that big spear-chuckin’ bastard was with ’em. I… well, I figured I’d warn y’all.”

  Marlon shook his head, said, “Thanks, asshole. We’ll keep an eye out for ’em.”

  Chapter Ten

  The Eye of the Black Storm

  Darkness ate the world and the night came alive with the sound of wild beasts killing and mating. Insects crackling with green flame lit their path. They passed by smooth, ash-gray trees with branches weighed down by heavy amber berries. Whenever a glowing insect landed on the amber, they could often see the still, frightened eyes of birds and squirrels trapped within, their bodies visibly stripped in various stages of digestion.

  The five walked in single file until Wodi quietly moved ahead and paced himself beside Marlon. Finally Marlon said, “So after we lost you and Jules in the river, we ran into these animals. A pack of them… these little rat things, but they were kind of monkey-shaped.”