Shades of Green

by Ian Woodhead

  The circle opened and another demon walked into the middle, this one differed from the others by being much larger and sporting a large crimson, bony crest down its back. It sat down in the middle of the circle and raised its paws into the air and stayed like that.

  All three humans were now fully awake and alert, they made no sound. Another two demons entered the circle; Damien suspected that they weren’t too happy being in there considering the way the crowd was stopping them from re-joining them. The crested one barked once and they ceased, meekly approaching the kneeling demon with heads bowed. The pair kept their heads bowed as the crested demon ran its claws down their backs, along their knotted protruding spines. The scene was almost erotic and judging from the reactions of the two demons it almost could have been. Then without warning the crested demon shrieked like a giant bird, jumped up and swiped at them like a cat, leaving deep lacerations in their chests. It then retreated back and melted into the crowd.

  The humans were dragged back too, leaving the two bleeding demons alone. They began to circle each other, growling and spitting. The wounds on their chests seemed to be of no concern to them.

  One of them leaped into the air and landed on the other’s shoulders, it fell backwards allowing the leaper to dig its claws into the other’s chest wound and then to shred the fallen demon’s faces with its claws.

  Shredded-face responded by ripping into the leaper’s stomach with both feet, and then pushed the screaming demon back. It left behind a trail of wet, steaming guts before collapsing onto the vine covered floor. Shredded-face jumped onto the fallen demon and clamped its jaws onto the demon’s neck and pulled, sending up a red shower of slime and gore.

  A cacophony of noise erupted from the watching demons. Damien and Jennifer stared at each other, wondering what was next to happen. It didn’t take long to find out. The demon with the shredded face pointed at the woman who was then pushed back into the ring; she stumbled and fell face down into the crushed vines.

  Shredded-face stormed over, giving her no time to recover. He dug into her matted, filthy hair and dragged her up to the crested demon. She struggled and screamed, trying in vain to escape from its grasp.

  The crested demon put its paw into the air and all the other demons fell silent, it thrust its mouth right up to the woman’s terrified face and let out an ear splitting squawk. The woman abruptly shut up. The crest on the back of its head expanded outwards like a paper fan.

  Damien pushed Jen’s head into his chest. Both crest- and shredded-face tore into the woman, the surrounding demons watching the slaughter in silence.

  As the two demons scattered pieces of the woman into the crowd, the defeated demon was dragged out of the makeshift arena.

  Damien stroked the back of Jen’s head while watching the crested demon smear the victor’s face with blood before licking it clean. Shredded-face moved back into the middle of the ring and another demon was pushed out of the crowd. This one didn’t seem as reluctant to re-join the other demons; instead it gave the two remaining humans the once over, looked at the crested demon then roared at shredded-face.

  Damien surmised that this was some bizarre mating ritual; he scanned the crowd and saw no other demon with a crest. That thing had to be the only female down there. Jen’s Uncle and his friend were about to share the poor woman’s fate, unless he did something about it.

  “Jen, listen to me. We have to stop them from killing the other two.”

  She looked into his eyes, her expression was unreadable.

  “With your little metal stick?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t you see? This is what Alan wants us to do.” He looked back to the fight. The newcomer was faring better than the other demon but he didn’t think it would be long before one of them succumbed.

  “Alan can go fuck himself. The only thing I see is that if we go down there, we’ll end up dead.”

  “But that’s your Uncle down there!”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” she sobbed.

  Damien looked at Jen then gazed down. His eyes locked on her phone and a grin slowly formed. He dug his own phone out. It only had half a charge but it should be enough…

  “Jen, is your phone charged up?”

  “What?”

  “For crying out loud! How many bars are there?”

  Jen glanced at her phone and shrugged. “Two.”

  Damien bolted over to the trapdoor and flipped it up before Jen had chance to ask him what he was doing. He fiddled with his phone, turned the torch on and shone the beam at her face.

  “We can do this, Jen. Come on, let’s go save your Uncle.”

  He climbed down the ladder, hoping that those fuckers were still knocking ten balls of shit out of each other. Jennifer was just above him; Damien grinned to himself, so much for her staying put.

  He jumped off the last rung, feeling his feet sink into the vines. His heart was going like the clappers and his mouth was drier than the Sahara. Damien briefly wondered if the soldiers during the Great War had felt like this before going over the top. He didn’t know if his plan was going to work but it was too late to turn back now.

  The demon that had chased them earlier lay crumpled at the base of the ladder, its head smashed open like a rotten melon. He reckoned they must have glass skulls. Jennifer joined him, keeping her feet well away from the demon corpse.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” she said.

  “Do you want to stay here?”

  “Of course not, I’m staying with you.”

  “Well, turn your torch on and cover the beam with your hand.”

  Damien nervously glanced over at the circle of demons, they were too busy watching the fight to notice them two behind them

  “Are you at least going to tell me what you’re planning to do?”

  He uncovered the light and aimed the beam at the black armoured carapace on the demon’s chest. The light ate into the material like acid. It bubbled up like boiling treacle, giving off thick greasy smoke. He recovered the beam and looked at her.

  “We’re going to set the bastards on fire!”

  The ring of demons began to howl, Jennifer glanced at Damien, they both knew the fight was over and what that signified.

  “When I shout, I want you to shine the bean in an arc across their heads then run over to your Uncle.”

  She nodded, and then followed him as he ran towards the circle of screaming demons.

  His gaunt face reflected back off the shiny black armoured shell on the closest demon and for some reason he saw himself plunging his hand into a bowl of dirty water, desperately searching for something. Damien shook his hand in an attempt to clear the image; distractions at a time like this would get them both killed.

  Jennifer was right behind him.

  “Are you ready?” He whispered.

  She nodded.

  “Okay…NOW!”

  They both removed their hands and swept the twin beams of light across the assembled demons. The result was instantaneous and cataclysmic. Black shell and flesh boiled away, greasy smoke filling the air. The demonic creatures screamed in agony and ran in all directions, two ran straight into bonfires, disappearing under falling charred wooden beams.

  He saw Jen sprint towards the captive humans while he pursued a different quarry. The demon with the shredded face howled, got down on all four and sprinted like a dog towards him. Damien lifted up the torch, intending to boil away the fucker’s face but a panicking demon ran into the path of the beam. Shredded-face watched open mouthed as the luckless individual was cut in two. It didn’t stay to be the next victim; instead it turned and ran in the opposite direction.

  Damien spun around in a circle, desperately seeking out his intended target, none of the other monsters had noticed the little human in their midst, they seemed to be acting like a herd of panicking cattle.

  He spotted her; she was using another demon as a shield. The crested demon wasn’t alarmed. He played the light across the legs of t
he smaller demon; it fell to one side leaving the other one exposed. The creature growled and hissed at him, leaped over the fallen demon and charged, he lifted the phone up, aiming for the bitch’s neck; he missed and just clipped the side of her head. She stopped, brought up her paws and pressed them against her head, screeching in anguish.

  The others froze, he felt a hundred pair of malevolent eyes drilling into his head, he brought up the torch beam close to where a demon was sneaking up behind him, and it shrank back, hissing.

  “If any of you bastards move so much an inch, I’ll turn the bitch into charcoal.”

  Jen was clearing a path in front of her while the exhausted looking men struggled to keep up. Her torch was starting to flicker. The entrance was just a few paces behind him. He glanced over his shoulder then took a couple of steps back, keeping the light trained at the female demon’s feet.

  Jen’s phone finally gave out and she pelted the last few metres, the two men almost scrambling over each other to get out of the compound. The demons stayed back, none seemed willing to give chase. A couple approached the crested demon, crawling and mewling like kittens.

  The younger man grabbed his hand and shook it. “Jesus, man, I can’t thank you enough for what you did back there.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “I don’t think they will follow us now, they look terrified.”

  Jen shook her head. “Sorry Uncle but you’re wrong. They aren’t stupid; the bastards already saw the light go out on my phone.”

  She leaned against a tree then jerked back. “Oh, Christ, it’s warm.”

  The older man began to moan as the hoard of demons inched their way forward. Damien played the beam of light across their bodies, then his battery died.

  “Bollocks!”

  “Remember what happened at the flat Damien!” She put her hand back onto the trunk of the tree. “Hug the fucker, the plant will mask your own body heat.”

  He watched the other two follow her advice and wrapped themselves around the trunks of two trees nearest to them. Damien looked around in panic, seeing the demons were almost through the gate. He ran up to a large tree and stood against it feeling clear, sticky resin ooze over his hair and face.

  The demons ran out of the gate and straight past them. He resisted the urge to laugh out loud.

  “I can’t move!” Pete shouted.

  Neither could Damien. He was stuck to the trunk like a fly in amber. There was movement above him. His eyes looked up and saw dozens of segmented pale blue tendrils coming down from the upper canopy. The tips were finished with a hollow brown needle.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Arthur shifted around, trying not to look at the scruffy little tramp who sat on the other side of the metal table, glowering at him. Now that his breathing had slowed down and he didn’t think he was going to have a heart attack, he concentrated on the job at hand.

  He picked up the bottom of his favourite overcoat with his thumb and forefinger, trying not to touch the clear slime that covered the fabric. Arthur sighed as most of the fibres unravelled and fell to the floor as he scraped the fabric along the edge of the table.

  The tramp’s dirty fingers danced rhythmic patterns upon the table surface.

  “Did I not tell you about toughing stuff?” he spat.

  Arthur’s gratitude at getting rescued had lasted precisely two minutes. He’d always considered himself to be a fairly easy-going guy, but this foul, sad human wreckage in front of him seemed to have found an uncanny ability to wind him up so tight that he wanted to punch him off that stool and stamp him into the ground until there was nothing left but a big red stain. He ground his teeth together.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Since when did trees try to eat people?”

  “Since now!” replied the tramp.

  The maddening situation was that he had no choice but to stay close to the tramp. He knew that he wouldn’t last two minutes without him around.

  Everything was trying to eat each other and it all wanted to eat Arthur. Yet the flora and fauna kept its distance from the man who claimed to be Ernest; maybe it didn’t like the interesting aroma of sour sweat and rotting dog shit that clung to the bastard like Velcro.

  “Come on,” the tramp said. “I’ve got something to show you.”

  Arthur had been following this horrid little man for bloody hours and he was knackered. The last thing he wished to do was to continue this endless trek. He still didn’t have a clue what was going on. Ernest just ignored him, when Arthur had demanded to know where they were going. In fact, he had said more words in the last minute that he had since Arthur first met him.

  He gave up on his coat and threw it on the ground. The moment it touched the floor, he watched a pair of jaws latch onto a sleeve, and then the whole coat disappeared down a small hole. The tramp walked over to the edge of the hole and picked up a brown plastic button, which he threw at Arthur and then set off without looking back. Arthur jumped off the remains of the café stool and hurried after the tramp before whatever grabbed his coat came back.

  Arthur ground his teeth together in frustration as Ernest buggered off, expecting him to follow like some lovesick puppy. He still had no clue why the smelly fucker had only saved his life, what was so special about Arthur? Would he have liked the answer even if the tramp had replied?

  He wasn’t the only survivor. He’d glimpsed and heard others, some shouting, others screaming, yet the bastard hadn’t lifted a finger to help anyone else.

  The tramp was getting further away, almost out of sight, and Arthur knew he couldn’t go on. His stitch had come back with a vengeance, taking a few more steps would be bad enough but to keep up with the tramp would be impossible; the bugger must have Duracell batteries shoved up his arse.

  Sod it. Arthur stopped; he refused to let some filthy, homeless scumbag order him about, and he was slave to no man.

  A bright orange worm as thick as his ankle poked out of a hole near him, but soon disappeared when his walking stick came crashing down upon its head. The jungle around him was closing in on him as dozens of tiny yellow eyes popped open directly in front of him. Twigs snapped behind him, he whirled around. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  Something very large crashed through the greenery, heading in his direction. He gripped his walking stick in both hands and held it out in front of him, hoping to God that it wasn’t one of those flame eyed monsters. Of all the things he had encountered, they scared him the most.

  He lowered his stick and sighed with relief when the tramp’s head poked through the foliage. He looked as pissed as hell.

  “What the fucking hell are you playing at?” He marched up to Arthur who tried not to recoil from his fetid breath. “What? Have you a death wish or something? Or are you just missing something upstairs?”

  The growth shrank back, leaving the tramp standing in a perfect circle of cracked tarmac; double yellow lines ran through his legs.

  “Have you any idea how much time I’ve invested in keeping you alive?”

  He just lost it and made a grab for Ernest. The tramp backed off which made Arthur even madder. He lunged for him, intending to snap his neck and throw the body in the jungle.

  The tramp’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. He held his hands out in front of him, palms up.

  “Look, mate. I know you’re confused and upset.” His licked his thin, greasy lips and barked out a single nervous laugh. “You never could hold your temper as a kid; I should have known you’d still be the same.”

  He jumped forward and grabbed his hand. Arthur recoiled from his touch, pulling his hand back and wiping it on his trousers.

  “I’ll do you a deal, if you do as I tell you to.”

  “Why the bloody hell would I do that?”

  The tramp grinned, showing off his blacken and rotting teeth.

  “Because if you don’t I’ll leave you here.”

  Arthur raised his hand, getting grim satisfaction from the tramp flinching.

  �
��I promise to answer all your questions; we just need to get away from here.”

  The tramp glanced around; he seemed like a different person, more normal, or was this just an act?

  “It’s been years since I’ve had to interact with other people.” He sighed and looked down. “I mean, just look at me Arthur. Who in their right mind would want to strike up a conversation with a diseased old thing like me?”

  He smiled.

  “Tell you what, how does a hot bacon sarnie and a nice cup of tea sound? Is it still two sugars?”

  Arthur blinked.

  “You must be starving and I don’t think the chip shop will be opening today. I can clear up this mess, Arthur. I know how to put everything back to how it was but I can’t do it alone. I really do need your help.”

  Arthur wasn’t angry anymore, just very confused. He looked into the tramps eyes looking for any sign of deception, but he seemed so…well, earnest.

  Arthur nodded, “Ok, I’ll help.”

  “Great!” the tramp smiled, “Well, let’s get this deal cemented with a nice cup of tea. Come on.”

  Ernest scuttled off through the undergrowth with Arthur following on behind. He had no time to think on whether Ernest was telling the truth or just feeding him a line, Arthur was too busy trying to keep up with the little man. Brief snatches of normality appeared wherever the tramp laid his feet or touched with his body, a roadside curb, half a street name, the bonnet of a police car, it all vanished back under the greenery as soon as the tramp moved and it all seemed eager to consume him when Arthur came near, probably pissed off at being disturbed. He fended off pincers, claws, suckers and needles in an attempt not to lose the tramp.