Demon Jack

by Patrick Donovan

“I can be very persuasive.”

  “I noticed,” she said. “So when are we leaving?”

  “We? We aren’t. I am. You should go get some rest or something.”

  She flinched at the unintended harshness in my voice. On that same note, I didn’t really want to have her tagging along. She was safer here. For some reason, I didn’t really want her to get hurt.

  “Oh, yeah, you’re right,” she said with a sigh of resignation. “I should probably stay here, I’m pretty sure I won’t bother anyone. I mean, it’s not like I get obnoxiously loud and giggly when I’m over tired or anything.”

  I leveled her with a blank stare.

  “Or that I’ll have to make a huge production of you leaving. I mean, you saved my life, I feel like I’d at least have to say good bye and shed a few tears before you go off to face down the scary monster type thing,” she added, meeting my eyes.

  I blinked in disbelief.

  “Are you hustling me?”

  “Me. Never. I mean, I’ll do what you told me. Stay and get rested up, maybe when I wake up I can find Maggie and we can have girl time. It’ll be fun, hell it’ll be a riot,” she said with a grin.

  This was a bad idea.

  “You’re not gonna leave me a choice in this are you?”

  A really bad idea.

  “No chance in hell.”

  Then again, maybe I could use her. If she could talk to the dead like she claimed, maybe I could dig up something someone else had missed by talking to one of the victims through her, assuming she wasn’t full of shit. Either way, I knew exactly where I was going to start.

  “God damn it, alright.”

  Her grin widened.

  We left the church about an hour later, through one of the side emergency exits. We didn’t see Maggie or the Holy Men the entire time, nor did they show up during our less than daring escape. We walked the streets in silence, cutting through empty lots and back alleys towards the building where Essie had attacked me. As we walked, the city turned uglier around us. High rises and glass gave way to gang tags. The stripped husks of cars lined the street like the discarded shells of long dead insects. By the time we reached the neighborhood where the building I had killed Essie was located, the occasional late night dog walker had turned into the late shift drug dealer, and brown stones had given way to tenements and crack houses.

  It looked the same as it had the night before when I had been arrested. There were the same two stories, forgotten and surrendered to the ravages of time. Looming and silent like an abandoned fortress, the building’s shadow stretched over the street in a thick black pool. The majority of the windows were boarded over. The ones that weren’t stared out like empty, hungry eyes. There was a sense of wrongness about, as if something alien had settled into the area and begun to spread invisible tendrils into the neighborhood around it.

  The hospital probably carried the same vibe now.

  “What’s this place?” Lucy asked, huddling down into her sweater. She looked like she was trying to shrink away from the building’s facade, to hide her self from its presence.

  “The thing that went after you, went after me here,” I said, nodding towards the building.

  “What happened?”

  “It didn’t go well for it,” I said quietly. “Or my friend. Or me for that matter,” I added in a hushed breath.

  She nodded. She didn’t question or push, just let me say it without comment. I was sort of grateful for that.

  “That medium thing, can you talk back to them?”

  She nodded.

  “They can hear us,” she said, “normally I mean. It’s just... It’s a one way channel unless you’re lucky enough to get struck by lightning.”

  “C’mon.”

  The buildings interior was worse than the outside. That sense of wrong was heavier here, something almost tangible and tactile. It was a repelling force in its own right. Lucy was sweating, despite the chill in the air. She kept her head down as she walked, a step behind me, her eyes sliding out of focus. She shook her head as she went, like she was trying to clear a rogue thought from her consciousness. Just the air here made it feel like wading through molasses, it was so heavy with malicious intent.

  We stopped a few feet from where I had killed Essie.

  “There’s a lot of noise here,” Lucy said after a long moment. Her eyes had taken on that strange out of focus look, as if she was staring through everything. Her pupils dilated almost frighteningly wide as she looked at me. She looked terrified, overwhelmed.

  “Anyone named Essie?” I asked quietly.

  She lowered her head, whispering Essie’s name over and over again.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice pitched to a soft whisper. “Yes, there is.”

  Chapter 8

  Lucy kept staring off into nothing. The only sounds were our breathing and the thumping of my heartbeat. Shadows seemed to ooze over everything, painting corners and angles in pools of darkness. There had been massive skylights overhead at one time, but the glass had long since broken. Thin strands of moonlight shone through in beams of bluish white, giving an eerie counterpoint to the darkness. It didn’t make it in the slightest bit any less disconcerting or ominous.

  To put it in plain terms, the place gave me the creeps.

  “Can you ask her-”

  Lucy held up a hand, cutting me off, keeping her eyes focused on some distant point that I couldn’t see. I fell silent, shoving my hands in the front pocket of my sweatshirt.

  “She says she knows you didn’t want to, but you had to and that she’s glad her last meal was something decent instead of out of a trash can.”

  “I... I’m sorry.” I stuttered.

  Lucy tilted her head to the side, listening.

  “She says you’re not, but she appreciates the thought, Jack-Jack.”

  I sighed. I didn’t know what to say to that, or what kind of words that I could put out that would express exactly how I felt about what had happened. She was right. I wasn’t sorry. It was her or me and I’d made the decision it was going to be her and then acted on it. I ended her life because of circumstance and I wasn’t going to lose sleep over it. That didn’t mean I was happy about it either. It was something that just was. It was as simple as that.

  “What do you want to know?” Lucy asked me.

  “We need something to go on, Essie,” I said to the air, not really sure where the shade or ghost or what have you that had been Essie was standing, floating, hovering, whatever. Instead I just went with it, believing that Essie would hear me on the grounds that Lucy said so.

  Lucy lowered her head, almost as if she was praying. She didn’t say anything for a moment. It was like she was lost in concentration, sorting through thoughts that came to fast to latch onto without a substantial bit of effort on her part. There was a look of dogged determination on her face, a stubbornness bleeding over her features that made her look almost tired.

  “There’s so much noise here, so many voices. It hurts,” she said, voice straining.

  “Just give me something.”

  “The man in black,” Lucy said after a moment of listening.

  “I take it she doesn’t mean Johnny Cash.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “No... Wait.” she said suddenly.

  Lucy recoiled like she had been slapped, her eyes coming back into focus. They darted over the building’s interior in quick little jerks. She turned in a slow circle, hands clenching and unclenching.

  “Something’s wrong. Everything went quiet,” she said. “Completely quiet.”

  “I take it that’s not normal?”

  “No. No it's not.”

  “So what now?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “That’s never happened before.”

  I moved to stand beside her, scanning the shadows of the empty building. Perfect stillness surrounded me. I steadied myself and focused on listening, on seeing, trying to pick shapes out of the darkness. On instinct, I made sure I
was as close to Lucy as possible while still maintaining enough room to move without bowling her over if something nasty presented itself.

  I heard Lucy gasp and spun around muscles tensing. She was staring, jaw dropped open, eyes wide. She pointed, taking a step backwards. She was trembling and for a moment I thought Lucy was going to take off screaming at the top of her lungs.

  It took me a minute to realize what she was pointing at.

  Alice stood a few feet away, head tilted to the side, a look of curiosity painted on her stark white features. She was floating an inch or so off the floor. Her hair and dress drifted lazily about her tiny frame, caught in her own personal breeze.

  Then it really settled in.

  Lucy could see her.

  What.

  The.

  Hell.

  As long as I’d been bound to Alice, no one had ever seen her. If it weren’t for the scars and the superpowers I’d have probably thought I was crazy years ago. A few people may have been able to pick up on her presence in the form of a hot spot in the air or a feeling of discontent, but no one had ever actually physically seen her. At least, not until now.

  “J...Jack,” Lucy stuttered, taking another step backwards.

  “Lucy, Alice. Alice, Lucy,” I said, by way of introductions still a bit shell-shocked myself.

  “Jack. She can see me,” Alice said, matter of fact.

  “So it would seem,” I said. “Why?”

  “I was wondering that myself,” Alice said.

  “What... What is that?” Lucy said, pointing towards Alice.

  “Lucy. We’ve been over this,” I said, cutting my eyes to the girl. Over her shoulder, I thought I saw movement. I blinked. Nothing. Everything was as it should be, still and silent. I stared a second longer, before writing it off as nerves and turning my attention back to Lucy.

  “We have?” she asked.

  “Remember when I said I sold my soul?” I nodded towards Alice. “That’s the buyer.”

  “Hello.” Alice said, looking at Lucy. “Why can you see me? No one’s ever seen me before except Jack.”

  I saw it again, a quick burst of motion to my left. There was no doubt in my mind this time. I saw a person, hunched over, moving from shadow to shadow with a quick and steady ease, using the darkest corners of the building for natural camouflage. They blended almost too well, becoming damn near invisible as the darkness swallowed them. I took another step towards Lucy, trying to watch everything and everywhere around us at the same time, all while keeping my attention on the scene playing out in front of me.

  “Alice...” I said calmly, my eyes scanning from shadow to shadow. “What’s-”

  “Thralls Jack, it’s thralls,” she said with an exasperated sigh, her voice riddled with chiding impatience. “It’s probably too late to leave. They’ve more than likely been watching you since you got here. You noticed them just a moment ago but wrote it off.”

  “You couldn’t have given me a heads up?” I asked.

  “It didn’t seem important at the time,” she said, her eyes never leaving Lucy.

  “Of course. It didn’t seem important. Silly me.” I muttered to myself.

  “So, why can you see me?” she asked Lucy again.

  The thralls advanced, pulling free from the shadows. There were six of them total, all male. They all looked the same. They all looked like Adam.

  They were dressed in all black, black slacks and black shirts, feet clad in heavy boots. They all sported shaved heads, eyes empty and dull. Their nails were elongated, jagged talons clicking against each other with anticipation. The darkness seemed to slide along their exposed skin as they advanced towards us.

  They had all been human once, each one of them. Now, they were really nothing more than mindless automatons. It took years of drinking blood from a vampire to make a thrall. Years, of having him, or her, destroy their personality bit by bit to make them into what they were now, slaves stuck somewhere in between being alive and undead. They were strung out on vampire blood and completely devoted to their creator. To me, it was worse than dying. It was dying and being just alive enough to realize you were dead.

  “We’ll talk again soon,” Alice said, looking from me to the thralls. She gave Lucy a polite, forced smile, and vanished.

  “Jack..?” Lucy said, her voice shaking with fear.

  “I know,” I growled, looking from thrall to thrall. I spun in place, keeping myself in front of Lucy the best that I could. It wouldn’t matter. I knew that much.

  For a moment, the thralls stopped, standing completely still. When they moved again it was in a strange synchronized stalk, every footstep falling at the exact same time as the others, each motion perfectly mirrored amongst six bodies. They had circled us completely, cutting off any chance we had of making a run for it.

  There was a long moment where everything was perfectly silent. A stillness filled the air, like that moment before a massive crack of thunder where everything seems to pause and brace for the inevitable. I searched the thralls’ faces and found absolutely no humanity in any of their blank stares. Hollow, mindless emptiness stared back at me. A smiled spread through them like a virus, turning each of their faces into a mask of sadistic joy and anticipation.

  And then, all hell broke loose.

  Getting jumped by a lot of people doesn’t happen in any way, shape, or form like it’s portrayed in the movies. The masses aren’t kind enough to attack one or two at a time. They sure as hell don't give you just enough time in between attackers to land a solid blow and move on to the next. You don’t get to systematically work your way through the whole group of people trying to kill you. The bad guys just aren’t that nice. Well, at least these bad guys weren’t.

  Instead, they fell on the two of us like a pack of dogs. One of them grabbed Lucy. To her credit she tried to fight back, slamming her fists against his chest. He didn’t even seem to notice. He just hit her, a quick, startling blow against her cheek with a closed fist. She crumpled at his feet. The thrall lifted her by the hair with one hand and threw her over his shoulder. The other five were on me like a swarm. Blows hit me from every direction. I fought back, rabid, swinging blind at the mass of bodies pressing into me. They plowed over me, shutting out any offense I could mount before it even got off the ground. The few punches I did throw were at best nothing more than a weak, desperation attempts. In such close quarters they didn't have enough muscle or leverage behind them to cause any damage. It didn’t so much as force any of them to take a step back.

  I was completely overwhelmed in the span of a breath.

  A shot to the back of the head staggered me. Another to my kidneys dropped me to my knees. It was all over from there. They rained blows on me, sending my already battered ribs to soaring new heights of agony. I curled up on the ground, putting my arms over my head and curling up, trying to protect my head and face. Steel-toed boots hit me everywhere. I was already beat all to hell, this was just the icing on the cake. The cut in my arm opened and I could feel blood soaking through the bandage, running in warm rivulets down my arm. It lit them up like a feeding frenzy, raising the beating to new, more misery inducing heights. I was almost thankful when the boot slipped through and clipped me in the temple. My vision went blurry. The second shot to the head sealed the deal. I went out completely, and was happy to do so.

  Chapter 9

  I felt lush, soft carpet against my cheek when I came pushing back up to the land of consciousness. I opened my eyes and the light seared into my brain, igniting it into a nuclear haze. My entire body felt like one massive ball of hurt, every muscle waking up to its own individual ache. It was worst in my shoulders. Thick, heavy lengths of steel wrapped around my torso and pinned my arms to my side. I had been bound in chains. More were wrapped around my ankles. I flexed against them, but between the three inch thick steel links and the shape I was currently in, there was no way they’d break.

  I was lying on my side, and after a moment of acclimating myself to
the glare of the lights I was able to focus more on my surroundings. It was a large office. A desk sat nestled in the corner, the wood polished to a glossy, almost reflective sheen. A computer and one of those fancy pen sets with the wooden base sat on its top. Bookshelves lined two of the walls, the shelves bowing dangerously beneath the voluminous antique tomes. Lucy, bound at the ankles and wrists with zip ties, lay a few feet away from me. She was staring at me, her face a contorted mask of fright. Blotchy red circles surrounded her eyes. She’d been crying. I could hear the sound of muffled voices outside, too far off and distorted by the walls for me to make out what was being said.

  “Mornin,” I said.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, voice trembling.

  I looked around once more, rolled onto my stomach and sat up so that I was on my knees. I blinked once or twice, head throbbing, and turned my attention back towards her.

  “Apparently Adam wants to talk to us.”

  “Apparently. Who’s Adam?”

  “He’s an old friend,” I said.

  Alice flickered into view, seated on the desk. She portrayed the image of the perfect little lady, fresh from charm school and ready for the Ball in her mannerisms. She looked around the room then turned her eyes towards Lucy.

  “So,” she said casually, as if her and Lucy were having a very civil discussion over afternoon tea. “Have you given any thought as to why you’re able to see me?”

  Lucy looked at her, mouth open, her face a mask of disbelief at the absurdity of the question.

  “I’m sorry?” she asked.

  “Have you given any thought to why you’re able to see me?” Alice said again. She didn’t so much as look at me.

  “Alice, where’s Adam?” I asked.

  “He’s outside,” she said, eyes still on Lucy. “Well, have you?”

  “Uh, no?” Lucy said.

  “How many?” I asked, hoping Alice had been able to pick up something from the muffled voices I hadn’t been able to make out. It didn’t really matter. I didn’t have a chance in hell of getting out of here. Adam and his thralls would rip me to shreds if I tried to escape, with or without Lucy. This was assuming I could figure out a way to unchain myself. Hell, Adam alone could tear me to pieces and his six goons, even without their master, had done a more than passable job of kicking the shit out of me without his help.