by Edward Lee
They were all pregnant.
Another flick of her eyes and she noticed another of the room’s details: the long stone dolmen in the center of the room left no doubt about what Blackwell did with the offspring of these women.
He’s doing the same thing he did in life, Via understood. Siring babies ... and sacrificing them to Lucifer....
The red eyes roved to Via and Hush. “My Transfiguration allows me to impregnate any kin in Hell. You’ll have the honor of being raped by me for eternity, and providing me endless infants for the sacrificial slab. Please take heart, though. You’ll get to watch it all over and over again. Indeed, the miracle of creation, the gift of your god exploited for the homage of mine....”
A heavy metallic clicking resounded when Blackwell walked out of view; a moment later he reappeared, hovering over Via. The unspeakable hands slowly descended, manipulating a pair of iron cuffs joined by a few links of chain, and then Via’s wrists were quickly shackled after a few more clicks.
“Think of these as wedding bands, my love,” the Grand Duke amusedly remarked. “By the powers invested in me, I now pronounce us husband and wife, through lust and hatred, through indulgence and abuse—and you can rest assured that death will never do us part.”
Via was picked up effortlessly and carried across the spacious room. She was then hung from a hook next to a shivering pregnant She-Troll.
“You’ll hang here forever—how quaint!”
The huge hands reached forward then, to begin stripping off her clothes.
“The pretty package, now, needs to be unwrapped. Let your beauty be appreciated by all of your new companions. Congratulations, dear. You’re now a part of my sacrificial harem!”
Via hung paralyzed, but her mind felt even more numb. This, she knew, was how she would spend eternity: being raped by this creature, and mothering its mongrel children for the satanic slab. She wished she could just die, but that was the height of fantasy. Here, she’d live forever, to be another charm in the monster’s display case, to be a permanent receptacle for the Grand Duke’s hobby. And she didn’t need to be told that an identical fate awaited Hush, too.
But, still, she could hope, couldn’t she?
“Don’t bother,” Blackwell said. “There is no hope for you....”
Via ground her teeth together, tried to squeeze her eyes shut. First, her legs were lifted, her boots pulled off and cast aside. “Mmmm,” the sound slipped from Blackwell’s throat; before he would strip her, his hands felt at her trembling body, squeezing her legs as if to test their firmness, sliding up her sides and then cupping her breasts. “Mmmm, yes. A trim young mare, hot and fit for the stud farm.” One demonic hand pressed flat against her belly. “We’ll be filling this up right away, I assure you, and then your wan little friend. Don’t worry, I’ve enough love for the both of you—more than enough.”
The nailed fingers delicately unfastened Via’s belt and slipped it off her waist. Then, just as delicately, they popped the center snap, pulled down the zipper in a slow rasp, and slid around behind her, hooking under her waistband, preparing to pull off her pants.
“I so enjoy unwrapping presents....”
Her dead stare hung as limply as her body, but ... Who is ...
In this position against the wall, Via could see to the Grand Duke’s rear.
She could see the figure entering the room.
She could see—
Xeke! Cassie thought.
She lay on the strange couch in this even stranger place, every muscle in her body singing in pain. The pain nailed her against the curving couch; whenever she tried to move, though, the flare of agony in her head and body shoved her right back down as if a two-by-four had been brought hard across her chest.
She saw the ornate room and its decor of Victorian horror. She saw Hush perfectly still on the carpeted floor, and she saw Via hanging from a hook against a long wall at the back of the atrocious room.
She saw the thing that had brought her here: Grand Duke Blackwell, the only figure in Hell with the potency to foil the Power Relic.
And then she saw—
Xeke.
Worse for wear since she’d last seen him, his jacket in tatters, his pants scuffed and bloodied. He’d been gone for so long that Cassie thought for sure they’d never see him again. Not to mention that Via and Hush had suspected him of complicity with the police, or selling them out.
But how could this be true?
I don’t believe it, she felt certain. I don’t believe that Xeke’s a traitor.
If that were true, what would he be doing here? And why would he be sneaking into the room?
Xeke moved ever so slowly across the carpet. When he saw Cassie, he gave her a brief smile and held a finger to his lips to signal her not to say anything.
I knew it! He’s still on our side!
Xeke crept right up behind the Grand Duke, slipping something out of his pocket as he did so, something long and loopy.
Cassie recognized the object. It was the rope-saw Xeke had used to decapitate one of the Ushers back in the Mutilation Zone. And she remembered how efficiently it had sawn through the creature’s muscular neck.
Be careful, be careful! she thought.
Xeke leapt.... ”
Go!
His quick leap landed him on Blackwell’s broad back, then he clamped on tight by wrapping his legs around the monster’s waist.
The sound of the Grand Duke’s objection sounded like high-explosives going off. The long room shook as if struck repeatedly by a wrecking ball. Then the vicious frenzy began.
Blackwell fruitlessly tried to reach behind him, to swipe at Xeke with his long claws, but Xeke had already slung the rope-saw around the demon’s neck. Veins fattened at once under the stricture.
Blackwell’s face darkened.
“What’s all the fuss?” Xeke joked. “I’m just measuring you for a tie!”
Blackwell stumbled clumsily around the room as the rope-saw ground deeper. Xeke yanking the saw’s handles vigorously back and forth with all his might. The sound of the implement cutting deeper and deeper was a sickening see-saw-like rasp, like lumbermen tearing away at the thickest tree but where sawdust and wood-pulp would be flying away from the toil of lumbermen, it was black blood that flew out of the deepening groove.
Repeatedly, Blackwell tried but failed to fling Xeke off, and then he let out another deafening bellow. The room seemed to convulse from the bellow’s inhuman concussion. But the objection didn’t last much longer. Blackwell turned silent the instant—thunk
—his head fell off.
The head rolled a few times and stopped on the carpet, the scarlet eyes staring up in outrage.
Xeke yahoo’d when he jumped off.
He did it! Cassie rejoiced.
But the mammoth body continued to stumble around.
Xeke grabbed a wide-bladed ax off the wall and—thwack! thwack! thwack!
—took to laying the great blade deep into Blackwell’s chest. The giant headless body fell over, and after a few more swipes, Xeke had ravaged the chest cavity. He bent over and reached in, tearing out the football-sized heart and throwing it against the wall with a bloody splat.
When the body attempted to get up again, Xeke scratched his head and commented, “Oops. Forgot about the head.” thwack! thwack! thwack!
He chopped the severed head into neat, fist-sized chunks. With his boot, he kicked the chunks across the carpeted floor much like a child would kick cans in the street.
“Who says it’s hard to kill a Grand Duke?” he jovially remarked, wiping sweat off his brow. His smile of relief beamed; he looked to Cassie. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said, but it was just a wisp from her throat. She could still barely talk or move. The aftereffects of the broken spell from the Power Relic left her dizzy and weak, like a nagging flu. It didn’t seem to be wearing off very fast.
“It was no walk in the park, I’ll tell ya,” Xeke said. Then he winked
at her. “You probably thought I was mincemeat by now.”
Cassie nodded. “We saw the wanted posters, then saw on TV how you’d escaped from the Commission. But...” Suddenly, the question bloomed in her mind. “How did you know Blackwell had brought us here?”
Xeke ignored the question, rubbing his hands together. “And I’ll bet you even might’ve thought that I went to the other side.”
“Yeah,” Cassie said. “Via did, at least, and Hush too, I think. But I never really thought that myself.”
“Well you should have,” Xeke said.
Cassie’s eyes thinned. “What?”
“Because it would be true.” Now Xeke stood cockily before her, hands on hips. “How else would the Constabulary be able to guess your every move? How else could a trap like this be set?” He smiled broadly now. “How else could they know you had the ability to activate a Power Relic? It was your sister, you dumbass.”
“My ... sister?”
“Your sister hates you. If it hadn’t been for you, she wouldn’t have been condemned to Hell, would she? You’re the one who slutted after her boyfriend, tried to steal him from her—”
“That’s not how it happened!” Cassie cried.
“—and when she caught the two of you together, Lissa was so shattered, so heart-broken and betrayed, that she killed herself in despair. The despair that you brought on her.”
“No!”
“And all this time you’ve been trying to find her, like telling her you’re sorry would mean anything. Well, fat chance on that, honey. You wanna know who told the Constabulary about you? It was Lissa.”
“Lissa,” Cassie’s whispered.
“Still don’t get it?”
Cassie felt lost in a fog, tears hot in her eyes.
“Well, check this out,” and then Xeke brought a hand to his face.
His fingers closed.
Then, as if he were turning a tight stocking mask around, he turned his face around.
Cassie felt drowning in shock.
It was Lissa’s face that looked back at her.
“Nifty, huh? It’s the very latest in Transfiguration surgery. No more skin hanging around your neck; they put the new face on the other side of your head. Works like a charm.”
Lissa. A Bi-Facer. She planned it all from the start....
Now the figure shucked off the leather jacket, peeled off the punk t-shirt.
It was Lissa’s body. Cassie could see the scars from where her breasts had been removed, could even see the barbed-wire tattoo around her navel.
But right above her navel was another tattoo now.
Cassie squinted.
No, not a tattoo.
It was a small branding mark seared into the skin.
A pentagram.
“It wasn’t hard duping Via and Hush—they’re just a couple of stupid Plebes. Infiltrating them as ‘Xeke’ was a piece of cake. Christ, Via’s so stupid, she was even falling in love with me! From there it was just gaining confidence. You moved into a Deadpass, for God’s sake. What better way to get the twin sister into Hell? Do you have any idea how valuable you are? A true Etheress? A living flesh-and-blood woman in Hell? The Ethereal energy you have in that pea brain of yours can give the Mephistopolis a power that’s never been seen before. It can put devils on the earth. It can destroy God’s blessing to mankind. It’ll be glorious! It’ll change everything!”
But Cassie remained in shock, crushed now in this total defeat.
Lissa strutted around, glanced down at Blackwell’s headless body amid all the gore. “And look at this big dumb dolt. He gets Grand Duke status, but all he cares about is his fuckin’ reward. Whatever happened to real servitude? Whatever happened to faith?” Lissa grinned again. “Lucifer knows all. Lucifer knows who truly serves him. And Ezoriel—ha! We ground up a couple thousand of his people tonight; it was like dropping steak into a grinder. But do you think he’ll ever learn? Fuck no.”
Cassie shivered as she watched her sister turn toward Via.
“Asshole,” Lissa said. “Snooty tramp.” Another smile. “Hmm, a Paresis Spell, huh? That’s great. It’ll make her easier to skin. That’ll be a lot of fun. Oh, and what have we here?” Now Lissa was looking down at Hush. “I think I’ll have some fun with this little bitch right now,” and then she dragged Hush up and lay her down on the dolmen.
“Poor little Hush. Poor little innocent Hush. I think I’ll cut your head off and pulp it right here on the floor. Yeah. Then your soul can spend eternity in the body of a little shit-worm.”
“No please don’t!” Cassie croaked out a sob, but Lissa had already wound the rope-saw around Hush’s neck. The finely barbed chain cut quickly with its sickening sound.
“Stop it stop it!” Cassie wailed. “She never did anything to you!”
Lissa grinned as her hands yanked the saw handles briskly back and forth. “I know, and that’s exactly why I’m doing it.”
Tears flowed down Cassie’s face.
Still paralyzed, Hush’s body quivered on the slab. Lissa zipped right through the rest of her neck—
thunk
—and then Hush’s head fell off.
“Why did you do that!” Cassie wailed.
Lissa shrugged. “ ’Cos it was fun. But don’t worry, that’s nothing compared to what I’m gonna do to Via. I’m gonna really fuck her up.”
All that horror at once, all that anger and outrage and despair, caused something in Cassie to snap like a twig. She squeezed her eyes closed, forced herself to break out of her own pain and paralysis. Her face turned pink in the effort as she strained, strained further....
“Ah, but I gotta finish one job first, right? Before I start cutting on Via....” Lissa chose a long iron sledgehammer from the wall of Blackwell’s instruments of torture. She weighed it in her hands, nodding satisfaction. “Yeah, this’ll do the trick. This’ll turn Hush’s noggin to mush in one swipe.”
“GET AWAY!” Cassie screamed. Her Ethereal Powers had broken back to the surface of her consciousness, and with a throat-flaying scream, she hurled the most violent thought of her life at Lissa.
The projection tore the room up as it fired forward, carrying its hot freight of rage like a wild bull suddenly unleashed from the stable. Anything on the wall was suddenly knocked to the floor. The carpeting flew apart in fat strips, and the surface of the walls themselves began to crack.
Then all that Etheric energy collided into Lissa.... Lissa just laughed, shaking her head.
Cassie stared in horror.
“That hocus-pocus doesn’t work on me,” Lissa remarked.
She raised the sledgehammer high into the air, arcing up over Hush’s severed head.
Cassie collapsed back against the couch.
“Get ready to eat shit forever, you little Goth floozy!” Lissa celebrated.
The hammer hovered. The eyes in Hush’s severed head widened in terror, her mouth opening in a voiceless scream. And just as the hammer’s flat face would be slammed to the floor, crushing Hush’s head and sending her soul into the physical body of some hellish vermin—
The room rocked.
It began to tremor worse than the force from Cassie’s last projection.
But ... It’s not me, Cassie realized.
Some other force had entered the room, and after the following triage of sound—
Sssssssssssssssss-ONK!
Sssssssssssssssss-ONK!
Sssssssssssssssss-ONK!
—Cassie knew what it was.
Three more Nectoports opened in their concussive wallops and wobbling flashes of swamp-green light. In less time than it took for Cassie to register her next thought, Blackwell’s Victorian chamber was full of the armed black knights of the Contumacy. They surrounded Lissa in a deep circle, their broadswords at the ready, the points of their halberd shafts and spears forming a ring of metal teeth around Lissa and the stone dolmen on which lay Hush’s decapitated body.
The room fell pin-drop silent.
&nb
sp; Lissa cast the sledgehammer aside. She seemed unafraid, as well as unimpressed by the sudden invasion of insurgent soldiers.
Behind the mass of knights, Cassie was tended to by several more black guards; one picked her up and held her in his gauntleted arms, while others stood before her as living shields. Between the figures standing before her, she could barely see anything, but she could see enough.
Lissa stood with her hands on her hips, a sly smirk on her face.
“Well?” she said. “Come out, unless you’re afraid.”
Through the ranks, then, Ezoriel stepped forward in his bloodied battledress. His burned wings were drawn in behind his back, and his bronze helmet gleamed in spite of the dents from countless blows. In his large hand he grasped a sword.
“Might it have been a stray whisper from God that led me to this place?” Ezoriel’s luminous voice issued.
“God’s not here,” Lissa said back to him. “He cast you out. Remember?”
“Then perhaps it’s just that I’m smarter than you.”
“You probably are smarter than me, but so stupid in your faith. Faith in what?”
“I’m not sure. But that hardly matters.”
Lissa smiled. “We used to be friends. We can be again. Consider the power here, Ezoriel. We’ll share in it—if you give your faith to me.”
“On the coldest day of winter, I wouldn’t give you the steam off my shit,” Ezoriel replied.
“So what now? You’ll stand aside and watch your peons chop me up. You know how pointless that would be.”
“I suspect so.”
“Just you and me then—unless. of course, you’re still a coward.”
Ezoriel dropped his sword and helmet to the floor.
Lissa looked back at him, displeased.
Then she said, “Fuck off,” and simply disappeared.
Chapter Seventeen
(I)
The little that Cassie could see and hear of those final moments in Blackwell’s chamber were utterly inexplicable. Too much had happened just too quickly for her to properly calculate any of it.
About the only thing she could comprehend, though, was Lissa’s diabolical hatred of her twin sister, which left Cassie feeling even more morose and helpless. Who else could Lissa blame for her damnation but Cassie? Thinking back to that night in the bar—the night Lissa had shot Radu and then herself—it had been Cassie’s own drunkenness and inner-angst that had spurred the weakness which had urged her into Radu’s arms. His own sexual designs for her were really no excuse, nor was his deceit, his overt lying, and his willingness to cheat on Lissa.
