[Demonworld 3] The Floyd Street Massacre

by Kyle B. Stiff

  “I don’t really give a shit,” said one detective. “I can’t wait ’til they hang that sumbitch.”

  “By his balls!” laughed Janice, and the others joined in. “That’s the spirit!”

  “The Coil would never just give something away, though,” said DeSark. “And I don’t mean to poop on our parade, but they must be getting something from someone, and something pretty valuable, for them to give up Barkus...”

  “Then get on it!” said Janice, smiling at him. “You’re a detective - figure it out, man!”

  While the others laughed still more, DeSark eyed his boss, for he was sure that the Director was hiding something.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Black Valley Investment Group

  Virgil drove them to a tall building in a wealthy neighborhood and led them inside. At the landing to the top floor, Virgil knocked in a strange manner.

  “Yes?” said a voice on the other side.

  “It’s Virgil,” he said.

  The door opened.

  “Not ‘Detective’ Virgil?” said Wodan.

  “Not in here, no,” said Virgil. “I’m just a citizen here. A gun-carrying citizen.”

  They entered a great lounge lined with wood paneling, several full bookshelves, plush chairs, and men in fine suits conversing in clusters. Their ages varied radically, but they were all undeniably wealthy. Wodan saw several women as well. It seemed strange to see them conversing with the men, then it struck Wodan that these women were not simply hangers-on living in the shadow of men. They conversed as equals. He had seen this sort of gender equality all the time in Haven, but never in the wasteland.

  Wodan turned to Virgil, then saw that he was engaged in a quiet conversation with an old man with a thick, white Lawman’s mustache. The old man wore a rough suit similar to Virgil’s, a cheap imitation of the fine suits worn by everyone else in the lounge. Finally Virgil turned to the boys, then said, “Barkus has been handed over to the Law.”

  “I don’t believe it,” said Wodan.

  “Believe it,” said the older man. “Coil gave him up to us not an hour ago.”

  Wodan stared at the man. “Boys,” said Virgil, “this is a very good friend of mine, Detective DeSark. DeSark, these are the boys I’ve been telling you about.”

  “Telling him about?” said Jens. “Telling him about what, exactly?”

  “Well… everything, really.”

  Jens stepped back, horrified, but DeSark held his hands up and said, “Relax, son. During a Businessmen’s meeting, we believe in total transparency.”

  “Great,” said Jens. “So half of Pontius knows enough about me to have me put away for life. I guess it’s okay, though, since the rules of keeping incredibly dangerous secrets change once you walk inside this magic room.”

  Wodan was alarmed as well, but he did not want to show it. Instead he extended his hand to the old man and said, “Are you Virgil’s boss?”

  “I wish he was,” said Virgil. “I guess you could say he was… my mentor.”

  They shook hands. “If you and others in here know about us,” said Wodan, “then we need some details about you guys.”

  Virgil and DeSark looked at one another, then DeSark said, “Let’s take them to see Miss Oliver. That’s the best way. That’s how it was done with us.”

  They walked through the lounge, then Wodan saw DeSark give Virgil a slight nod.

  “Hey guys,” said Virgil, “have you ever seen an open bar?”

  Hari shook his head. “No,” said Jens. “What’s that?”

  “Come here. I think you’ll like it.”

  Virgil took Jens’s arm and Hari’s shoulder and led them to a bar along the far wall. Wodan turned to follow, but DeSark gripped his arm and ushered him to the other side of the room.

  They don’t think Jens can handle what goes on here, thought Wodan, following the older man. They approached a seated group of men and an older woman. As they approached, Wodan’s mind spun, thinking about the fact that Barkus was now in the hands of the Law.

  If the Coil have given up Barkus, then the exchange is off. That will increase hostility between the Ugly and the Coil, which is what I want. Unfortunately, that leaves little Scorpio in the hands of those monsters. How can I possibly get him back? And what will the Ugly do to him once they realize that Barkus has been given up and Scorpio no longer has any value as a bargaining chip?

  Wodan’s thoughts were interrupted as they sat down among the group. “Miss Oliver,” said DeSark. “This is Wodan, the young man that Virgil has been talking about.”

  Wodan regarded the older woman. She had a wrinkled, tan complexion, black hair run through with white, and a suit bearing a family crest. She had hard gray eyes and a powerful aura, but there was also a great warmth to her.

  “Good to finally meet you, Wodan,” said Miss Oliver. “Our friend Virgil tells us that you’re a foreigner, and that you’ve spent the last year setting up the ultimate destruction of the Ugly.”

  “I’m sure he was exaggerating, ma’am.” Curious about what would happen if he threw this wealthy individual off balance, Wodan looked to make sure that Jens was still across the room, then added, “I have a terminal illness. I might not have much time left. Whether the Ugly kill me, or I end up keeling over in the bathroom, I figure I might as well try to do some good while I’m still here.”

  “Nothing like a death sentence to make someone fight for their life,” Miss Oliver said without hesitation. “Everyone in Pontius lives under a death sentence.”

  “You mean the gangs?”

  “I mean us.” Miss Oliver smiled slightly, then said, “We’re the only gang with the potential to destroy Pontius – and all of the other gangs with it.”

  Wodan was shocked. “Just who are you people?”

  “That’s a difficult question to answer. How’s your history of Pontius? Have you heard of a group called the Entertainers?”

  “I don’t know that much about the history of Pontius,” said Wodan. He said nothing of the Entertainers.

  “Not many people do,” said Miss Oliver. “In fact, most people think that the flesh demons created humans a short time ago, relatively speaking, to be their food and their playthings. Humans are far, far older than most people know. We’re older than the demons, by far.”

  “That’s what we believe where I come from. We call the people who came before the demons – the Ancients.”

  Miss Oliver nodded, then said, “The demons were the end of the Ancients. According to our secret histories, mostly kept by a group called the Entertainers, Pontius had a front-row seat to the fall of mankind and the rise of monsters. At the end of the last age and the beginning of this one, the Ancients had vast cities that stretched for miles and were full of people. There were no walls. The cities were too big, you see – and there were no demons for city walls to keep out in the first place.

  “In those days, Pontius was just a small farming community. We don’t know why, Wodan – we don’t think anybody does – but when the last age ended, the seas rose and the flesh demons made their appearance. A great horde of them came up from the earth to kill and eat humans. The Ancients couldn’t put up a unified front against them because they were always at war with one another, bickering over territory or resources or ideology or profit.

  “Not far from the farms that would eventually become Pontius, there was a great city called Vatica. The people of Vatica were already masters of rule and survival and playing one group against another. When everyone else was still trying to figure out what the demons were and how to fight them, and were barely clinging to life, the ruling class of Vatica somehow found a way to thrive. How do you think that’s possible, Wodan?”

  “They cut a deal with the demons,” Wodan guessed. “They fed them… other people.”

  “That’s what we think, too,” said Miss Oliver, smiling. “I know it’s hard to believe that a human could actually make a deal with a monster, but we know for a fact that some demons
are capable of speech and reason… and we also know that some humans will do anything to survive, even if it means betraying their own kind. We have solid sources that say the rulers of Vatica were inhuman long before the demons came. They were obsessed with the concept of mind control; over the course of generations, they spent fortunes trying to figure out how to use torture, psychological trauma, and ritual symbolism to break down the human mind in order to turn free humans into robots. They wanted sex slaves and killers that could be turned on and off with key phrases, and whose memories couldn’t link them back to their masters when questioned. They were wealthy cowards hiding behind a popular religion that taught obedience and turning the other cheek, so when the demons came, they were quick to turn it to their advantage rather than risk anything by fighting back.

  “When the seas rose, the city of Vatica was buried, along with most of its people. The rulers of Vatica settled in the lands that became Pontius. We’re convinced that the Ugly are the descendants of those inhuman men, Wodan. Even though the wall around our city protects us from most of the demons, the Ugly still revere them. To this day most of their wealth comes from the slave trade and underground sex rings, and we think that the Hands are the culmination of their mind control program. No normal human can beat a Hand in combat; at the same time, a Hand probably isn’t even capable of walking to a store and buying food to survive, even if he had to.”

  Miss Oliver smiled at Wodan, then added, “That’s why we’ve been keeping a close eye on you, Wodan. We’re interested to see how your private war against the Ugly develops, because ultimately it will shape the future of Pontius… and even decide our fate, as well.”

  “I still don’t understand who you are,” said Wodan.

  “We’re people who place a handful of ideals above survival,” Miss Oliver said quickly. “All of us here are ambitious and career-driven, but each of us has also made a vow to eat a bullet before we become like the Ugly. We want to live in a decent world, Wodan. Not in Hell. Every member of our group has to be wealthy, but our money can’t have blood on it. Understand? We have spies in the Coil and friends in the Law, but even a spy has to make the majority of his wealth without getting blood all over it.”

  “Are Virgil and DeSark members?”

  “No – they’re friends of the group. They’re spies that keep us apprised on the changes of the Law so we can stay one step ahead of the elected rulers, the officials. The elected rulers of Pontius sleep in shifts and draft new Laws every day so they can leech wealth off the other gangs, and the people of Pontius, without working. Ironically enough, they’ve become slaves themselves. Each elected ruler of Pontius works over one hundred hours a week, and most of them die from stress-related illnesses.”

  Wodan looked at the other Businessmen gathered in the circle, so Miss Oliver added, “That man there is another one of our spies. His name is Pelethor. He’s a Captain of the Coil, but his true loyalties are with us.”

  Wodan followed Miss Oliver’s gaze, then drew back – a dark-haired man sitting directly beside him was staring back with cold eyes and a hard, emotionless face. Wodan had not even noticed him until now. “How do you do?” said the man.

  “Pelethor!” said Wodan. He’d heard the name floating around the office. “You’re the father of Scorpio – the child that was kidnapped!”

  Pelethor nodded. “His life was to be exchanged for Barkus. But now, it seems, my organization has other plans.”

  “I’m... I’m sorry, sir,” said Wodan. The horrible images of the child Scorpio rushed into his mind. The stitches, the terrible binding, how he wailed... desperate to help the poor man, he said, “Sir, I saw your child earlier today - he’s alive.”

  “Please, don’t continue,” said Pelethor. His eyes closed for a moment, but otherwise he betrayed no trace of emotion. “I cannot bear to hear it. It’s my own fault, really. I thought that joining the Coil would be the best way to protect myself and my family from the gangs. I’m a high-ranking Captain… but no one is safe from the Ugly when they’re determined to fight back, it seems. But why show concern for me, Wodan? I’d heard you were a killer of Captains.”

  “I never killed a Captain that had a family.”

  “You have my thanks for that.” Pelethor suddenly smiled coldly, then said, “But now I have no family. My wife did not survive the attention of the Ugly berserkers, you see, and now my son is in their clutches. I think that war between the Coil and the Ugly is inevitable now. I can’t imagine a child surviving that.”

  “He will,” said Wodan. “We’re going to get him back. We’ll think of a way.”

  Taken aback, Pelethor’s smile changed slightly. “Perhaps we will,” he said, then turned away and stared into the distance. Wodan shifted his weight uncomfortably. Despite the fact that the man was a Coil, and emotionally cold as well, Wodan did not feel that he was a bad person. He wanted to help him, but was not sure how to go about it other than to bother him with a lot of big promises.

  Wodan saw that Miss Oliver was just ending a conversation with another Businessman. She turned to him, and Wodan could tell that she wanted to say something to him. “You say you’re not like the Coil,” said Wodan. “Have you ever used your money to fight them?”

  “That reminds me of a story,” said Miss Oliver. “There was an investment we made, long ago. Do you gentlemen remember the Black Valley investment?” Several of the older men nodded, then Miss Oliver turned back to Wodan. “We had a plan, years ago, that would increase our wealth far beyond that of the Coil. We were going to use it to take them over. It was a disaster, a total failure. Do you know what the most valuable resource in Pontius is?”

  “It certainly isn’t blood,” said Wodan.

  “Sadly, no. It’s paper. That is, raw lumber. As for the investment, there is a valley east of Pontius. It’s in the middle of a horseshoe ring of mountains, with a river connecting all the way to Pontius. Not only are those mountains full of ore, but that valley holds trees, Wodan… trees without end. Whoever tapped that resource would gain untold wealth, enough to change the face of Pontius. The Businessmen decided to make a play for those resources. I was young back then, when several of us went there. We bought up equipment, laborers, skilled workers and mercenaries, then trekked to the valley. We met with no demons along the way. At the time, I thought it was a good sign.

  “We reached the valley and established a colony. In the north we began mining gold, silver, iron, and all manner of jewels. We cut down enough trees to have everyone in Pontius eating out of our hands. Gods, I thought we’d really done it…”

  “And then the demons came,” said Wodan.

  “Yes. And then the demons came. We never saw one demon - from the very first, they came in legion. They overwhelmed us before our guards could even put up a fight. We ran as fast as we could. Only a few of us were able to lose them in the mines, and even fewer of us made it back across the wasteland. The Entertainers have a legend about a garden of plenty guarded by a seraph with a flaming sword, a place where no man can set foot if he values his life. That story seems to fit the Black Valley perfectly.”

  Wodan thought for a moment, then said, “Did you see ghouls there?”

  “See what?”

  “Uh, we call them ghouls... where I’m from, I mean. They’re shaped like men, but smaller, sickly, with white skin... very disgusting creatures.”

  “No-o-o-o,” said Miss Oliver, “I didn’t see anything like that. But the attack threw us into chaos. All I saw was tentacles and fangs… a horde of monsters. It looked like the whole valley had come alive to eat us.”

  “You didn’t happen to see a lizard creature shaped like a man, did you?”

  “How did you know about that?” said Miss Oliver.

  “Because I’ve been there. I was exiled into that valley over a year ago, with some others. I was the only one who made it out alive.”

  Miss Oliver nodded emphatically. “That creature was no devil. It was a freak. Or the last of its kind, for
I’ve never seen another like it. It was raised by a showman who travelled with us. The King of the Reptiles, I think he called it, but it was no bigger than a boy. He would make that thing fight against other show animals, and our laborers would bet on the outcome. The showman treated that lizard boy very poorly, beating it and starving it to keep it angry. It was covered in scars, and I have no doubt who put them there.”

  “That creature is out of its misery now,” said Wodan. “I killed it during my escape.”

  “You really are something, Wodan,” said Miss Oliver, settling back into her chair. “But the stakes are higher now.”

  “My life was at stake then.”

  “And now, you’ve put the lives of everyone in Pontius at stake.”

  “You alluded to something like that earlier. What exactly do you mean?”

  All the Businessmen in the circle leaned forward. “Just this. There’s another bit of criteria before someone can join our group. You have to be involved in farming.”

  “Farming?”

  “Farming. It’s the most thankless work in Pontius, but the most important. Have you seen the farms around Pontius?”

  “I have. They’re pitiful.”

  “They are. It’s a constant struggle to keep them going. The people that work them are determined, but small-minded and superstitious. They get picked off by demons all the time, but that news hardly ever reaches the city because no one wants to hear about it. Everyone in Pontius works to build their own personal empire within the city walls, but if they looked only a few feet outside of the city walls, they might see that every farm is owned by us, and every bank loan that goes out to every farmer comes from us.

  “I’m telling you this for a reason, Wodan. You’re orchestrating a war against the Ugly. They are indescribably malevolent, and you’ve forced their back against the wall. If they fight the Coil and win, then they will be able to grow unchecked. They’ll move into territories and markets that the Coil were able to keep from them. If they grow strong enough, they could absorb the Smiths and even move against the Law. Our hands have been tied, Wodan, because we only have one weapon against them. We haven’t used it yet because it’s too powerful and using it would go directly against our code. But we refuse to live in a world dominated by the Ugly.”