Demonworld Book 3: The Floyd Street Massacre

by Kyle B. Stiff

  Just then a powerful beam of light shone down from the tower and fell on the face of a nightmare crawling up toward them. A hideous beast with two long arms, covered in red fur and black scales, pulled itself up the wall. A great mane of red and black hair trailed down its back and shook as the thing grunted and hissed. The demon lifted its face to them – the entire head was one long skull, shining white and topped by huge curving horns. The young Lawman saw dead black eyes, then the thing roared, revealing multiple sets of fangs and a hideous purple tongue. His mind was shut down by terror and he stumbled back. He saw one massive, gnarled hand grasp the older Lawman’s neck and shoulder, then his frail body was slammed against the brick wall with a sickening, wet crunch.

  The young Lawman stammered and crawled away as the giant flesh demon hauled itself over the rim of the wall. Ape-like and powerful, steam shot from its nostrils as the thing threw its head about. He could hear Lawmen on the far tower crying out, “Demon! Demon!” but he could do nothing but watch as the demon leaped into the air and disappeared into the darkness of the streets below.

  * * *

  “Hey Ullrich!” called out one of the Coilman. Ullrich turned. The lead Coilman produced a pistol from his jacket - then fired. Ullrich felt a terrible biting deep in his belly. The wind was driven out of him as he doubled over and staggered. He could not straighten out but, despite the shock of what had happened, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a fistful of shells. He dropped most of them on the ground, but focused all of his concentration on reloading two more shells. The gunman fired again and he felt another kick against his ribs. Drawing breath was impossible. With terrible slowness he finally lifted his eyes at his attackers. In great detail he saw the gunner’s eyes widen, saw him shooting over and over at the sidewalk and walls, then Ullrich fired and the gunman flew backward against his comrades. The Coil turned and fled, abandoning their companion and firing behind their backs as they ran.

  He heard another sharp crack behind him just as he felt metal teeth bite into his back. He turned about and fell against the wall and saw three more Coil nearby, pistols raised. His attackers looked terrified. Ullrich still could not breathe, but he forced his shotgun into the air and fired the second round. One Coilman’s arm swung about, torn to shreds, and the other two fled so quickly that they were gone before their companion slapped into the pavement, gulping like a fish out of water.

  Ullrich was finally able to draw in air, but it felt as if a hose had turned on inside his lungs. He choked and spat a thick line of blood onto the ground. Another Coil stood on the street, partly behind a car, and aimed a small pistol at him. The lights along the street seemed to grow dim; for some reason his eyes focused on the young Coil’s ridiculous black hat as he forced his numb fingers into his pockets to retrieve more shells. He felt them fall to the ground, then the Coilman screwed up his face and fired over and over again. Ullrich felt hammers striking his chest, legs, then one round slammed into his jawbone and teeth.

  He reached toward the ground to retrieve the shotgun shells, but fell to his knees. The Coil assassin jerked at his gun, seemingly panicked. “Give me your gun!” he shouted to a companion still in the car. Ullrich could no longer see anything but a dark fog. “Give me your gun, mine’s jammed!” the Coil shrieked, his voice distant. “He’s gonna get up! He’s gonna get up!” Ullrich heard as he fell to the ground, then heard only silence.

  * * *

  Jens walked all the way to Anne’s apartment after he dumped Hari and Scorpio into the lap of a secretary who was friends with Virgil. As he approached, he saw only a dim light in one window. He wondered if Wodan had already left, or never gone at all, or if Anne was perhaps asleep. He knocked on the front door as he opened it.

  “Anne?” said Jens.

  “Jens.” It was Wodan’s voice, from another room. He sounded distant and hollow.

  Jens entered Anne’s bedroom and saw a nightmare spread out before him, a waking nightmare worse than anything he could possibly imagine. He heard himself scream, then screamed louder to wake himself up. He turned away from the unimaginable thing and saw Wodan sitting on the floor, smoking, a pile of cigarette butts lying in a mound beside him. Wodan’s face looked hard, and in a flash Jens hated him, hated his hardness, hated his ability to accept this thing without going mad.

  “I’m sorry, Jens,” said Wodan. “I know just how you feel.”

  * * *

  The Hand stood over Pelethor’s body. He lifted the dead man’s head, stared into the nothingness behind his cold eyes, then let the head flop down again. The berserkers stood about uneasily, glancing at one another.

  “Hand,” said one, quietly. “What do we do now, man?”

  Without turning to him, Hand said, “Our lord is dead.”

  The Ugly nodded slowly, then said, “What do you wanna do? We’ll follow you.”

  “I cannot lead,” said Hand. “It is forbidden.”

  He turned toward the others, his face very soft and pale. While they saw no confusion in his face, they also saw nothing else.

  “So what do we do, man?”

  “We follow the next in line to lead,” said Hand. After a pause, he added, “The next in line to lead us is the brother of Boris. He is the new Head.”

  The Ugly looked at one another. “You mean Barkus?” said one.

  “Yes,” said Hand. “We must attack the prison where he is kept and free him. He will lead us now.”

  There was heavy silence as the Ugly weighed the plan in their minds.

  “You think we should attack the Law head-on?” said a berserker. “Hell, man… that sounds like a plan to me.”

  * * *

  Jens sobbed in the darkness for a long time and Wodan sat in silence on the far side of the room. After a while Jens opened his eyes and rose to his feet. He looked at Anne’s body on the floor. She lay on her side, eyes open, mouth parted, a small coil of intestine hanging from her open belly. Her shirt, dress, and arms were drenched in red. Jens watched Wodan smoking with his head hung low. When Wodan noticed, he pointed to the wall behind Jens, then turned away.

  Jens turned and saw Anne’s paint cans open and turned over. Green paint pooled along the floorboards. On the wall, he saw a hastily painted image of a coiled lizard eating its own tail.

  * * *

  Detective Virgil entered Precinct Zero, worn out from following up on a series of berserker rampages. He’d been to so many scenes of murdered Coil Captains that he was surprised the Coil had any Captains left. While he couldn’t say he was sorry to see them go, the deaths themselves were sickening, and the idea that a gang of berserkers were being led by some madman was intolerable to him. He knew the business could only end either bad or worse.

  He climbed the stairs to the detectives’ station and immediately saw detectives unlocking shotguns from their cases, handing them out and shouting to one another, and scrambling for radios. Lieutenant Detective Rancis strode up to him with a gang in tow, their faces set with grim purpose.

  “Virgil,” said Rancis, “you better believe me when I tell you a demon is on its way right fucking here, man.”

  “A demon?!” Immediately he heard the floor below him erupting with shouts, clamoring, feet pounding, as the news must have been passed on to them. “Where’s Director Janice?”

  “A demon jumped the goddamn walls,” said Rancis, passing him. “And this thing’s a beast, so we gotta put it down right fucking now.”

  The scene did not feel real. The flesh demons were something that only outsiders had to deal with. Virgil looked and saw several denim-clad Lawmen staring at him, their faces white, eyes vacant of anything but fear. He knew that this was every city-dweller’s worst fear come true – the idea that the high walls that kept the nightmares away would one day prove useless, a fantasy. Virgil darted forward and grabbed a heavy pump-action shotgun from its case, then loaded it with shells.

  “Come on, boys,” said Virgil. “Let’s show this monster what happens when it crosses t
he wall.”

  * * *

  Hunley climbed the stairs to his apartment. He was still shaken by the attack, but now he was also dealing with a creeping worry over the destruction of the Smith car. He wondered how he could possibly explain the fact that he was driving it without any delivery work orders. He wondered if he could get away with it gracefully by just coming clean about the incident.

  He entered the dark apartment and saw a light on in the backroom. He drifted into the kitchen and slumped against the table for a moment. He could hear his master shuffling around in the back. Hunley lit a cigarette and, not really sure what he would say, he stood and waited.

  His master shuffled into the room, bathrobe filthy and feet dragging behind him. His eyes drifted to their refrigerator, then fell onto Hunley.

  “Sir,” said Hunley, nodding slightly.

  “Eli…? Eliphas?” the master said, his voice a drawn-out croak.

  “No, sir. I’m Hunley, your student.”

  “Hun... ley?”

  Hunley nodded.

  “Hunley,” croaked the Smith. “Hunley... you’ve been showing those movies... to some other boys?”

  “Oh-h-h,” said Hunley. “Well, I did. But don’t worry. They’re just friends.”

  The master craned his head a little bit, then looked down at Hunley’s feet. “Hunley, you can’t show that stuff to outsiders. Can’t... strictly forbidden...”

  “Don’t worry, sir. They won’t do any harm.”

  The old Smith produced a pistol from the pocket of his robe, then pointed it toward Hunley’s head. “That’s not cool,” he said, then he blasted Hunley in the face.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Floyd Street Massacre

  Wodan and Jens stood in the Party Room at Floyd and drank in silence. The night was heavy and silent and they felt the morning would never come again. Wodan stood by the open window and watched the street below, just as he’d done when they first explored the ruins. Jens rose to stand beside him. Wodan looked at his drink, then poured it out the window.

  Jens leaned against the window and said, “I thought I hated her so much… but I’d give anything to be with her again. No one loved her more than me.”

  “None of us loved her, Jens.” He turned to Jens, then said, “She never permitted it.”

  “Fuck you, Wodan. You’ve got all the answers, don’t you?” Jens glared at Wodan for a moment, then said, “I bet it pissed you off when she didn’t want to be one of your projects, didn’t it? You try to take her on as one of your students? Just like you got me and Pete to kill those Captains with you. Huh? Did you tell her you were disappointed in her, man? You were the last person to fuck her, you had the chance to tell her.”

  “We all had the chance to help her. None of us did. And, for the record, you were the last guy she had in her bed.”

  “I haven’t touched her in years.”

  “That’s a lie,” said Wodan. “She gave me that bit of gossip herself.”

  Jens shrunk into himself for a moment. He blinked as he latched onto an idea. “Wodan... when did she tell you that?”

  Wodan stood silent.

  “Wodan, when exactly did she tell you that?”

  Wodan stared into the darkness and would not look at Jens.

  Jens pushed away from the window and turned toward Wodan, then said, “Wodan… you… Wodan...”

  “What?”

  The terrible idea hung in Jens’s throat, choking him. “Wodan... you killed Anne.”

  Wodan tilted his head strangely, then laid his eyes on Jens.

  “Say something,” said Jens, shaking. “God damn you. Did you? Say something, damn you!”

  “I want to see where you go with this train of thought,” said Wodan. He turned toward Jens and the two faced one another. Jens’s eyes darted to the side, then back; Wodan followed the direction of his gaze and saw a handgun lying on a table nearby.

  “You’re some kind of monster, aren’t you?” said Jens, gripping his bottle. “That’s how you’re able to do the things you do, isn’t it? You’re… you’re not…”

  Jens turned toward the gun, then back to Wodan. As he prepared to jump for it, Wodan remained still, eyeing him curiously.

  On the couch beside them, the crippled cat suddenly lifted his head. A moment later they heard engines roaring, then the shriek of tires tearing around a corner. They looked out the window and saw three cars and a van race across the street, through the open gate, then across the empty lot. They came to a screeching halt just before the entrance to their home. The van turned about so that its back doors pointed toward them. Doors opened up on all the vehicles and Coilmen in their black-and-greens jumped out. There were five from each vehicle, and all of them were armed for battle. Several of the killers kicked large barrels from the back of the van. They pushed the heavy, liquid-filled barrels toward the building.

  Wodan and Jens turned and gathered their weapons.

  “We’ll settle our differences after this,” Wodan said as he loaded the last few bullets into his Coil magnum. He leaned against the window, peered around quickly, then said, “I see a Captain’s jacket.”

  “There won’t be any after this,” said Jens. He said something else, but the words were drowned out as the flammable barrels exploded violently. They soon heard feet pounding up the stairs.

  * * *

  Virgil and Lieutenant Detective Rancis strode outside Precinct Zero with a gang of detectives and Lawmen and saw other Lawmen already perched behind cars drawn up in a protective circle. Lights from the cruisers flashed all around, silent and disorienting. Men shouted at one another, then one group took off running toward the rear of the building; at the same time, others pointed and shouted in the opposite direction. Virgil ran to the second group and saw a large troop of berserkers marching up, armed for war, with the blond, unmasked Hand in the lead.

  Rancis snatched a loudspeaker from someone, then shouted, “You out there! Disperse!”

  “Fuck you!” shouted a berserker. Automatic rifles, submachine guns, and axes glinted in the flashing lights. The Lawmen saw painted faces, scarred heads and arms, eyes mad with drugs.

  Lawmen lined up all along the cars, hunkered down beside rifles and shotguns, and took aim. Rancis’s face boiled red and purple veins crossed along his forehead. He gripped the loudspeaker with white-knuckled hands and shouted, “You fuckers disperse and we let you go this time! Now turn around or we shoot to kill!”

  Just then guns blasted at the rear of the building, out of sight. An incredible crashed followed, then screaming. Virgil turned, distracted, then heard Rancis shout to those nearby and guns erupted all around. Car windows blasted out all around them. Virgil turned to face front and saw the berserkers charging and shooting. Virgil flung himself along a car and aimed his shotgun at a cluster of the Ugly, then a Lawman’s head exploded right next to him, splattering him with brains so that he couldn’t see. He fired blindly, then leaned down to wipe his face, and just then he saw a blur fly overhead, black with blond hair and firing a submachine gun in either hand. The terrible Hand touched down on a nearby car for only a moment, then leaped into the air again, firing and killing on all sides. He saw Rancis turn and fire at Hand with his shotgun, but Hand rolled along the ground in a blur before the gun even went off, then he spun and fired again and Rancis whirled around with part of his face missing. As he fell his shotgun went off and Virgil felt a hail of buckshot slam into his shoulder. Virgil was flung back and his head crashed against a bumper. Dazed, he saw a group of berserkers leaping over the hoods of cars, whooping like savages as they rushed the broken perimeter line.

  With screaming in his ears, he fell unconscious.

  * * *

  Four Coilmen burst into the Party Room firing pump-action shotguns and an automatic rifle, blasting bottles and potted plants and furniture, and just as some of them began to reload Jens leaned over a kitchen counter firing two automatic handguns and Wodan swung around the edge of a hallway with his
magnum held forward. As Wodan aimed down the sights at the assassins, time slowed down and he saw the fear in their faces, their hands shaking and unsure, their weapons too big for their bodies.

  They’re not even men, he thought, firing his magnum rounds. They’re children in the temple of something beyond their understanding. In terrific detail he saw them twist and flail, cut to ribbons in the crossfire. The magnum ran dry as the last body bounced off the entrance and smacked into the ground.

  Wodan dropped the magnum and ran for the dead men. As he loaded the only remaining clip into the automatic rifle, he saw Jens lying on the floor behind the counter.

  “Get up!” Wodan shouted.

  Jens checked himself, then said, “I – I thought I got hit. Damn, that was some kind of miracle!” He rose and took one of the pump-action shotguns, then said, “But I don’t take orders from you! You hear me?”

  Wodan ignored him and approached the cat, who was shrieking horribly. The stench of smoke was overwhelming; the old, decaying building was burning rapidly. Wodan tucked the frightened animal under his left armpit and cradled the rifle in the crook of his right arm. “We’ll hit the other stairwell, on the far side,” said Wodan. “They’ll be coming up that way too, and we don’t want them to spread out in these hallways.”

  “They don’t know the layout of this place,” said Jens. “We can find a fallback position and set up-”

  “Oh, they’ll know, alright,” Wodan said as he took off down a hallway.

  The poor cat froze in Wodan’s arm, and he felt claws gently prick his side. He swore to himself that he’d get his little friend out of this alive as the door to the rear stairwell hovered into view. He lashed out and kicked the heavy wooden door open and, just as he’d suspected, five Coilmen crouched as they made their way toward him. Wodan was practically on top of them and raised his rifle, but the lead Coil was ready – he must have heard Wodan racing down the hall – and tossed a grenade through the doorway.

  Wodan saw the thing slowly spin past his shoulder as he turned away from the door, then fell and rolled into a turn in the hallway. The thing exploded, Wodan heard only a piercing whine in his ears, and the cat jerked in his arms - but Wodan had been completely covered by the turning hallway. He immediately leaped to his feet and, with the cat still in one arm, he swung back around the curve. The door was a splintered mess full of holes. Wodan saw the Coil holding their ears and complaining to one another, strangely silent in his ears. He shot through the mess of boards that was once the door and sprayed the tight cluster of Coil. The bomber in front was the first to take a chest full of lead, and then once again Wodan’s mind sped up and he saw, in sharp detail, panic twisting their features before pain erased them.