“Where will the demons go? If you don’t kill them.” She cleverly brought them back to task. “Will it go on what they are or what they’re supposed to be?”
Mika had no answer to that. He didn’t know the answer, and inwardly thought that it was a little hypocritical hiring demons to help clear the world of such beasts. “We’ll kill them. Don’t worry about that.”
But Carly did worry. Would the end of the world still happen if they killed these demons? Seeing as how the Alvareshniks were supposed to be dormant apocalypse demons set to fuel Armageddon, as this was sure to be. At the moment, that terrible, final event appeared to be the only certain thing. She felt strangely tired and covered her mouth with a floppy hand as she yawned, too exhausted to use her muscles. Thoughts began to jumble in her head and she excused herself to her foldaway bed.
Robyn had never heard anything so preposterous in all her over-long life. It was deadly serious and had to be stopped before anyone else got hurt, but at the same time it was so ridiculous that she just wanted to laugh. It was easy to understand why anybody would want to do something like this, yet hard to sympathise with the person who was capable of unleash this on an unsuspecting world and not feel any remorse for it. Biting back a laugh that threatened to spill from her lips, she asked, “Can we do this? Can we win?”
Mika wanted to give her the answer she wanted to hear, he really did, but he couldn’t lie to her. Instead, he just looked at her, shrouded in uncertainty that she did not notice. “Baby,” he began confidently. “When you love each other the way we do –“ worms of doubt began to creep into his voice and he spoke louder to hide it “ –we can do anything.”
“You didn’t say yes,” she noticed.
Half a dozen more green lights winked in the sky. In the harsh blue and white of the sky, they were barely visible and no-one looked to the sky. After all, nobody knew that there was anything to see. Everyone had seen sky, sun and clouds before. You would not have noticed anything even slightly out of place unless you had specifically looking for it. And why should they be? Because everything was perfectly normal, wasn’t it?
Of course, they would think that. They were in the thick of it; any sense of rational or objective thought was lost to them, buried deep in their psyche. The only ones who could see anything wrong were those standing on the outside of this confusing blip in reality, those who had remained largely unaffected by this primal pull. These primitive and original urges and tendencies to violent displays of emotion had suddenly been brought to the surface and burst forth, smashing the dam of human control which had held it back for so long. Cavemen had found nothing wrong with it, so why should they?
But the numbers of the untouched were few and far between; a range of races, ages, sexes. Between them, they could barely muster the initial will to find out what was doing this. Oh, they were curious and some believed that it might set their minds at rest just to know the cause, and possibly why they remained impervious to this unseen attack. And yet, they were willing to let things just go on in this fashion, untroubled by any wont to physically find out. That took energy, the act of learning and understanding… and knowing. They had no resolve; not enough strength of character; to change things. Things would surely sort themselves out in its own time. Why should they tamper with the way of the world? These wrinkles in society would shake themselves loose on their own.
Karma.
That was the word. Karma. Everyone would eventually get what was coming to them. Everything they had inflicted upon the world, everything they had ever put out into the atmosphere, would, one day, come back to them. Good girls would go to Heaven, but the bad girls would go Everywhere, which invariably meant Hell. No, Everywhere was more accurate at this point in time. This whole world was imploding and, whether people were aware enough, or wanted, to admit it, was slowly turning into Hell.
It seemed ridiculous how even the youngest of children, supposedly the most pure and innocent of all, were among those showing the most ferocity. Their youth was a gift, a blank page on which a whole story would be written, but was now ruined and blotted with the indelible stains of… there was no word for this. But, one could reason, that maybe their youth was their downfall; that they had not developed a resistance, had not matured enough to know that there was something amiss here. At nursery school, children were given toy guns to play with and were often separated for fighting – maybe this had nurtured their violent instincts. A teenaged boy stood on the kerb with his grandfather, watching, in disbelief, at the tableau before him. The old and the young, impressionable minds, but with hard-set ideas about right and wrong… this was wrong.
Everyone stopped moving as a cold, unblowing wind blew through them and settled around them like cloaks of weighted calm. It felt as though this great shroud of enforced tranquillity was preventing people from moving, suppressing any mental inclination to an aggressive display.
Everyone under this enchantment looked around slowly, as if their movements had been dulled by drugs or booze. There was no obvious or visible source of the calming cloaks. No-one had the predilection to find out what had caused it, what was sending out these restful vibes. No-one wanted to. It felt good… right. It gave everyone a sense of inner peace, the chi they had lost long ago. There was no point in fighting it – just go with it. People did not want to fight any more, not the personal struggle between what they knew they should do and what they wanted to do. It was just easier to follow the pack. Did not take courage, or strength, or bravery. Give in to those feral, primitive instincts – hunt and kill; search and destroy. It was uncomplicated, easy, it felt natural.
Suddenly, everyone realised something. This wasn’t right. This serenity and tranquillity they were feeling was not coming from them, was not natural. It was fake, synthetic, and they tried to shake the feeling away. They wanted to be themselves again.
A low buzz sounded in the sky and rippled through the air. Too quiet to be a low aircraft, too constant and unaggressive to be a swarm of bees or wasps. As one, those veiled in artificial peace, as well as those not coated in it, tilted their heads to the sky – and saw. Bright green, slowly enlarging lights, barely visible against the cruel, unforgiving daylight. Gasps of shock, awe and unashamed wonder escaped their open mouths.
Garlox, the landed Alvareshnik demon, was satisfied, but not satisfied.
Hmm. That was an interesting feeling. Feeling two extremes of the same emotion both at the same time – it was intriguing, and yet he did not care for it at all. Humans! How did they cope like this? He felt as if his head might explode with the infusion of information, feelings, senses, everything he had experienced and learned in the few short hours since his bumpy Earth landing. You could feel everything in that pod he had arrived in. That was why the pod had been encased in an orb of pure light. At the right intensity, light became physical energy, and could be attached to pods to protect their cargos during transit whilst carrying no weight. But still, he had been jolted and knocked around by every rock and crater he had collided with. He could feel swellings starting to appear on his face but reasoned that no-one would be able to tell.
He had been hiding in the shadows between a book shop and a bakery, not ready to let anyone see him, when he had noticed everyone grow still and quiet. He had done that, calmed everyone down. Garlox emerged from the shadows and tentatively walked down the street, taking his time to smell the air-borne scents – something bitter and more-ish – and to look at this strange place with its’ equally strange inhabitants. He looked down at his own body and compared it with that of a human male. The human was clothed, the demon was naked. The human was a strange pinky-brown colour, the demon was light blue and white – ice cream colours. The four fingers and thumb of the human were only half an inch long and tipped with four inch floppy feelers on Garlox. The humans feet were neatly housed in bright white trainers, the Alvareshnik was barefoot with two-toed, fl
at webbed feet to balance on. He had short salt and pepper hair circled around a rather large patch of skin on top of his head, Garlox had several thin spines which extended down his back as far as the hair of the woman by the car door. He was not sure who looked the strangest.
No-one, Garlox was relieved to note, had even noticed him and giggled at his out-of-place appearance. He had been apprehensive of the laughs and points of humans, had worried over it for a time before deciding that there were more important things than image. Of course, he saw, people had seen him walking and had idly watched him go by, unable to object to his intrusion.
He muttered something in his native tongue, grateful for something to break the silence – which was beginning to unnerve even him. It was too quiet, everyone was too placid. It just seemed wrong, too straightforward, that he could give them back their peace of mind just by standing there. They could not live like this, like unanimated zombies. It had to be more complicated than this, nothing was ever this simple.
People were looking, open-mouthed at the sky, but Garlox did not have to do the same to know what they were seeing. That confirmed it – this was not a job, or a mission – it could be an act of mercy. Or, to put it bluntly, a massacre. All his life, spent in his own safe, little pocket of reality, he had known utter peace. No-one ever argued or fought, there were no disagreements, and war was an alien notion used only by lesser races with superiority complexes. But, something had been missing. Harmony was all he had ever known, or was likely to know, and he was nervy about any change to that. He had thought that he would want to create safety and complete union around him because that had been his life, but not any more.
Now, he had the chance to explore that missing something.
FOURTEEN
They were going to lose.
Robyn lay half-asleep in the king size bed she shared with Mika, painfully aware of how empty and cold it felt, even when he was with her. Not that she missed the warmth of a live body inches from her own. But lately, it had seemed like… like she didn’t even know who Mika was any more. It was silly to think that of the person she loved profoundly, knew intimately. She knew things about him that he probably did not even know himself. He was lying just an arms length from her, within touching distance. But she did not want to touch his cool, clammy flesh – she wanted to reach into him and feel the connection that had been holding them together for so many short, dynamic lifetimes. Just to make sure that it was still there; that he was still hers; that he was sure.
It was a strange thought that she might be sleeping with a stranger. No – she had to stop thinking these thoughts. There was no room for doubt now, no time for uncertainty. He was still the same old Mika he had always been, just… He was unsure of something. Memories had a tendency to do that – particularly when those memories were so graphic – to bring threads of doubt wriggling into a body. His memories were going to take him, make him hate himself – Robyn wasn’t going to let that happen. She would do whatever it took to stop that.
Mika turned over in his sleep and one arm flopped over her rigid form. He did not dream in his sleep, but he didn’t want to dream. A fight was going on inside his head and it felt as if neither side was going to win. There were the vivid recollections that had recently sprung from the recesses of his mind and could not ignore, the cruel, unforgiving reality of… well, reality, the carnal, deeply imbedded desires of the beast within. All of them threatened to win and take him over, but he forced himself awake before either of them had the chance.
“Robyn?” he muttered sleepily. “Are you awake?”
“Mm hm,” she replied, eyes closed still. “Can’t sleep.”
Light shone through a shaded window and Robyn turned over to look at him, blinking against the sunlight. The blind provided enough shade to remove the danger.
“I realised something just.” He sat up in bed but trailed his fingers down her bare arm. It was so smooth. Her whole body maintained a creamy, unblemished complexion, untelling of her numerous and horrific injuries. Relaxed on the bed, Mika was positive he had never seen a more beautiful sight. If he had breath, she would have taken it away – just as she had done on that first night.
She sat up beside him, seeing something shadow his face. Something she had seen before on the faces of humans, but never on his. It scared her. “Tell me.”
“We aren’t going to win this.” He slid out of the bed and stood by the door, leaning on the dresser Robyn liked so much. “There’s a struggle going on up here.” He pointed to his head again. “Everything happens up here now, when it should be happening in here. In my heart – dead, doesn’t beat, but it’s me, everything that is me. Winning does not come into this. Coming out on top is irrelevant.”
“Mika, what are you saying? Winning is everything.” To Robyn, winning was the beginning, middle, and, perhaps most importantly to her, the end. But, her casual words held a deeper, darker meaning. “We cannot afford to lose.”
It was times like this, when he was so frustratingly close to her, just inches away from her, that he seemed furthest away from her – untouchable, almost. Just to make sure, she reached across the empty space and took his hand. She was surprised at the warmth of his palm in hers but not at all shocked. It didn’t feel all sweaty and clammy like terrified human flesh, it was smooth and natural. Robyn lifted her gaze to peer into the ice blues of Mika. And she saw. She saw everything that was going on in his head right now; the private war, the confusion. The realisation that he was no longer hers – he had long since equalled, maybe even surpassed, her – but she had become his. They had always been a team, now it seemed like an endless, colourful game of follow the leader. She did not like where he was leading. She made her mind up in that instant.
“You’re so lost.”
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” he whispered. Mika felt his eyes mist over and looked away. “I’m Mika, the – God, I can’t even say it now.”
“Baby, you’re a demon.”
Mika noticed a great deal of pride in her voice as she reminded him of that fact. Maybe he was a demon, but he should not be feeling this. Guilt and anguish and being torn up inside were feelings for people with consciences, with souls; he had thought he’d lost his long ago. It amazed him how he had never given his sins a second thought until recently, hardly remembered some of the things he had done, now he could not forget. “What we did? Was it right?” He swallowed and waited for the answer.
Robyn did not want to give him an answer that would upset him further or anything like that. The stars were literally screaming in agony inside her head, and she was trying hard to hold them off from her emotional centre. She simply could not cope with a reclusive lover now. “It was right at the time.”
That reply seemed to work and he sat down beside her. He saw that neither of them had taken their hand away, Mika was glad. It was a bond, a connection to what he was. It reminded him of it but it no longer hurt; if he could just always be touching her, never let go, everything would be okay, they would freely roam and feed on the world. “It was. And it always will be.”
Robyn felt a change in the atmosphere. Everything was suddenly taut and stiff with static electricity. She shuddered and loosed his hand. Mika did not move an inch, his expression did not change. He forced his inner beast into submission and let his mind go as blank as possible. Robyn was in charge now - she would tell him what to do. But the sensitive brute within could sense that Robyn was on edge, was waging her own personal war. But hers, he knew, was not inside. It was cemented in reality, on one side was the present with the professor and the shaman and the apocalyptic Alvareshnik demon; on the other, the possible post-Judgement Day future defended by the pair of them. Defended by Robyn actually – Mika was happy to relinquish command and responsibility to her.
He didn’t even try to understand why she had not been affected by this in the same way. It would take a lifetime mo
re than his own, whenever that should happen to end. For her there were no memories that beat you up on the inside, no feelings of guilt and remorse so intense that he began to believe the label of monster. Robyn did not believe she was a monster, it made her think of puppets in cheesy horror movies, but she was very proud of her status as an immortal demon. He hated her for it – for how could anyone be so pleased at that? – but at the same time he loved her for it with every fibre of his being.
Robyn looked up at the ceiling, as though she could see the sky from inside. And maybe she could.
“Perhaps not.”
Thunder rumbled quietly overhead, lighting forks split the bright sky, but no dark clouds hung in the sky. No-one noticed this phenomena. Garlox was pleased that nobody had paid it any mind.
As he wandered further away from people, they began to shrug off their invisible cloaks of passiveness and he heard sounds behind him of people seemingly waking from a deep sleep. Garlox rounded another corner and sat on the roof of a sports car, looking at the sky. If he concentrated half enough, he could see lines of silver lightening cutting through a blue sky. The thunder and lightening were, as yet, unaccompanied by rain but he knew a storm would be along sooner or later. It was some kind of rule that the end of the world had to take place in a dark storm – it just didn’t seem right to have the apocalypse when it was bright and sunny out. Took all the scariness away, but at the same tome made it more scary – because who would have thought that their immediate fates would be decided on a day like this?
He lifted his head to the sky and ground a few words out in his own language. He did not understand a word that any of the humans had said, but got the impression that they were all very angry over something. The demon looked around him – there were only a few unresponsive humans here, moving slowly and not reacting to even he when he stood in front of them. He grinned and mumbled an Alvareshnik greeting at them, for no purpose other than amusement. The demon pressed on and stood a little further down the street. The thunder was rolling loudly now and a fine rain had begun to fall, making tiny wet patches on the concrete pavement. Still no dark clouds had gathered and the lightning was not visible. It didn’t matter.
Twisted Evil Page 21
