Outside Hell

by Milo Spires

  Then after another few days had past by and various ideas had come and gone, that he’d deemed either too dangerous or just not practical, the answer of where he’d send the evil bastards had finally come to him.

  One day when he was playing around with magic as you do, he’d wanted to see if he could get a massive boulder of colossal size and weight, that hundreds of men couldn’t lift; to simply vanish once it was inside the portal. So when he’d found the boulder that he was looking, he’d laid the portal down beside it and then using a huge lump of timber, he’d spent hours dislodging it. Dracus had been dripping with sweat throughout the process, and then when he’d finally seen the thing start to shift and roll down into the portal, he’d leapt out of the way and watched with a massive smile across his face as it had disappeared.

  He was dubious at first whether the portal would be able to carry it, because upon estimation as he’d walked around the boulder, he’d reckoned on it weighing several tones. Only when he’d seen it vanish, and then craned his neck back fast, almost making himself dizzy in the process, he’d stared up at the fiercely burning sun above him and seen to his joy that the rock had simply vaporized. There was a huge explosion and the force from it was simply consumed by it, and then sucked back into it as if the sun had demanded its energy.

  So in his mind he’d the answer as to where he’d send the two evil bastards when they were fighting one another. He’d predicted that they’d be struggling with one another, and hopefully the other beast would have Vrakug in a headlock by that stage struggling to breath, then as they’d stepped into his trap, a second later they’d land on the sun. Dracus only hoped that they couldn’t leap away beforehand, or somehow stop his portal or something else entirely that he’d missed, but he’d felt sure they couldn’t.

  Then with the plan set in his mind and nothing needing changing, he’d set about finding the other evil bastard to fight Vrakug. Only as a few weeks had past by with him wondering how he’d do it, and with the weather becoming colder and the leaves falling from the trees to lay a carpet of brown over the green stuff that he’d been walking over, something happened.

  He’d been glancing back over the spell books from his parents again, and from the energy inside of him that was growing in its intensity, he’d realized that he could alter them. He could change words and make them into other spells that were far more powerful. Only every time he did make new spells, he’d also felt that he was opening up the powers that were bestowed within him, and at the same time the powers were controllable too.

  Then with his new powers, he’d suddenly realized that he could see dark energy floating all about him.

  Dracus had followed the energy, and then as it had led him outside The Tower of London, and whilst he been standing there under the guards tower washed in the moons eerie candy floss glow, he’d had his first encounter with a ‘vampire’.

  A moment had past trying to explain to the vampire who he was when suddenly a secret door had opened, and then with it a powerful hand had grabbed him from behind and pulled him inside. Then after being dragged eighty flights of stairs down into the darkness and meeting the leader Rex, that had dark energy bursting out from him like a high-pressure water main, and also feeling like everyone amounting to hundreds in the cavernous room wanted to kill him, he’d shown Rex the portal. The evil bastard had been so impressed with it that through his obvious greed, the ugly fucker had fallen into Dracus’ trap and asked him to join them.

  Rex had seen great potential for someone with his powers, and when Dracus had accepted which was on the spot, he’d been instantly promoted to be the evil bastards first ever, personal envoy. Someone that Rex could send to meetings on his behalf, and that could escape death by using the portal. Someone that Rex could trust and who would relay information back to him instantly; unlike his own personal guards called the Elite warriors, that usually messed things up.

  Only when Dracus had stood there in the dirt underneath Rex for the first time, he’d realized that the old bastard wasn’t the one that he was looking for to fight Vrakug. Rex was a pathetic specimen of a creature who apart from being old and small, he was also rotting with a severely twisted back. Then as he’d glanced around at the massive vampires that were surrounding him, Dracus had felt sick inside as if he’d made a massive error even coming there, none of those would be a good match for Vrakug either. He’d simply vaporize them with his crimson rays before they could even close to him, no the evil being had to be someone far more powerful than these fools. He’d thought.

  Then as he’d stood there and watched the evil coursing its way out of the vampire leader flowing into rivers of blackness, that were going down deep into the dirt beneath him as if they were going home, he’d known instantly that there was a superior being that Rex answered to. And as time went by he’d found that he was right to. A vampire called Lucious had told him that there was someone much more powerful. Their creator, a being of pure evil that stood eight feet tall, had hideously distended veins pulsing across his face, a pitchfork in hand, a lashing tail and horribly hooved feet. When he’d asked did this vile creature have a name, Lucious had told him that he was called, ‘SATAN.’

  Only as Dracus with no other choice to save Eldor had then waited around to meet the son of a bitch, a period that had unfortunately lasted a hundred years, still he hadn’t seen him. It was like he was a myth and didn’t really exist, as if they’d only created his story just to scare the other vampires into order. Then whilst Dracus was working for Rex and still without meeting this Satan character, he was given a leather bowman’s tunic and his first bow. Then after practicing with it and realizing that ‘like hand to glove’ he was a natural with it, Rex had presented him with a leather quiver full of cursed arrows, and a glove to touch them with too. Only after learning their evil and keeping himself as far away and distant from them as he could, fearing that they might consume him, or even worse, turn him into something of similar stature to that of Vrakug, he’d finally begun to see how they might benefit him.

  He could fire them into Vrakug when the two evil creatures were fighting and paralyze his ass, letting the other evil cretin have a better chance of winning.

  Dracus’ magic had also improved so much that he was able to stay in contact with his love Janus too. He could create a dimension and also appear in the spirit form within it. Then as he’d appeared he was able to pull Janus’ spirit into it, enabling them to look into each other’s eyes and be together again. Only it hadn’t and didn’t by any means placate his lust to be with her. Every time that she’d gone back to her body in Eldor and the gateway was closed, he’d had a tear in his eye because of it. He’d really in truth wanted much more, he’d wanted to lay naked with her under the blankets and stroke her hair, smell her odor once more and just relax with her. Only he’d daren’t use the portal to take him there, not with all the heinously evil energy that was flowing around him from the vampires in the coven, and the sick tortures of humans that he’d been forced to witness. He wasn’t sure of their dark energy and whether if he did use the portal if they’d know where his world was because of it. Then in turn he’d always known that he’d said that he’d never risk going back there until Vrakug was dead. His people had placed great hope in him as their savior too, and he wasn’t about to let them down either.

  Janus had also told him that the castle of his parents had burnt to the ground and because of it, the place had then laid in ruins for many years too. She’d also said that Vrakug had gone missing, his whereabouts were unknown and that she’d wanted with all her heart to believe that he’d been eaten by the Skylark beasts, but was unsure that he had been. She’d told him that after he’d left and the fires of the castle had raged fiercely, then strangely some hours later the flames had vanished as if by a spell. Then at the same time suddenly day had turned into night, and the Skylark beasts had appeared again and swarmed the place. She’d said that she’d watched up through the grey atmosphere of Sarhl, and through the
dark clouds as they’d parted occasionally, she’d seen it. The castle had succumbed to the winged beasts, bursting into flame again.

  So the fact that Vrakug’s whereabouts were unknown after the castle had burnt down, and also not knowing if Rex’s evil would be able to follow him, and not wishing to let his people of Eldor down too, Dracus felt strongly that it would have been very unwise to use the portal to visit her.

  Only as the years pushed on and he was no nearer to meeting Satan, and he’d no other choices but to continue the agonizing wait, Janus had told him some horrifying news. She and her family had looked up through the atmosphere and seen the castle of his parents was back to new again, which in his mind had meant only one thing, somehow Vrakug the slimy toad was back again.

  Chapter 8

  (Over two hundred years since Dracus joined Rex’s coven)

  Christmas Time, Romania - 1979

  The valley was a carpet of white, scattered here and there with little dots as the wire fencing that separated the empty fields, was barely visible under the depth of the last nights heavy snow fall. All around the sun was shining dimly as it slipped down behind the vast mountain range, that surrounded three hundred acres of fields, sprawled out beneath it.

  Lengthy shadows rapidly appearing, popping up everywhere until the fire in the sky returned the following day, banishing them back to hell as it promised it would.

  Looking up into the sky you could imagine that after hurtling into galaxies unknown you were like James T Kirk coming out of warp speed or something, and looking out the window of your super space ship.

  It was utterly breath taking and so surreal that you could have just laid on your back for hours, and gazed into the heavens.

  The stars as they twinkled daintily back down at you looked as if they were diamonds scattered gently across a velvet sheet. Stepping on your heels, and by how close they looked, you could have sworn that you could have reached up and touched them.

  In the center of the fields stood four white farmers cottages that were only a few feet apart, and looked as if they might have moved closer just to keep warm. Their roofs of slate were lost some months previously under meters of snow, whilst tapered icicles like snow spears hung limply from their guttering, daring to fall.

  Smoke tainted with the rich smell of seasoned timber climbed lazily skywards from their brick chimneys, whilst the amber lights from their windows made the gardens appear as if they were washed with a magical glow.

  All the while a small group of pine trees swayed gently to their north, keeping company as the arctic wind with its wintery song, hurriedly whipped up flurries of snow.

  ******

  The children’s bed times are near and its Christmas Eve. If they are late to sleep then they know from their father that the bearded stranger and his friendly reindeers might not show.

  The farm dogs hear a noise from the mountains and begin to growl. A moment passes with their necks craned skyward and their noses to the air. Then as a shooting star darts across the skyline, deep panic sets in and they pull at their chains trying to flee.

  Inside one of the cottages and unaware of the danger; a young boy of five called Andrei gallops surreptitiously an imaginative horse on his grandfathers knee. His younger sister Fiorentina plays with her teddy, whilst Georgieta their mother busies herself placing presents under the Christmas tree.

  “Its time for bed now Andrei.” The boy’s father say’s as he hears something and looks out the window into the darkness.

  The dogs begin to howl and the wind picks up, rattling the loose panes of glass in the window next to him.

  “No No No, I want more papa, please, please, please.” The boy cries as his grandfather obeys his son’s wishes and the horsey knee that he was riding on slows to a trot. Andrei is woken from his imagination and realizes with a little frown across his face, that it wasn’t a horse galloping at all, and that it was just a trick, it was the old man’s knee.

  “Children please do as your father asks” their mother says with a pine muffled voice from under the tree.

  Andrei looks very unimpressed, and as he feels a tantrum coming on he remembers the pain from his father’s belt the last time that his actions became free.

  Feeling defeated with his arms slack by his sides, sullen faced and impish, Andrei sighs because the horse that he was riding had been seventeen hands tall, it was a marvelous beast; it was white and with it’s long flowing mane, it was so magical and free.

  “Sorry Andrei, your father is right, go and get ready for bed. When you are though, come and tell me and I will read to you and your sister. Would you like that?” his Grandpa says in his friendly, jovial voice.

  “I want, I want.” Andrei screams excitedly, as he leaps off the knee.

  Grandpa has a tired face of many wrinkles, and a black beard that comes down just beneath his chin. His eyes are dark and set back quite far, and his ears are long and big.

  ‘Have you forgotten children to say good night’ their Grandmother say’s as cold air comes down the chimney, roaring the fire and making the shadows of the room dance vehemently.

  Andrei and Fiorentina turn around and run across the room to give grandma a big hug. Only as Fiorentina leaps up into grannies only slightly tidily from sherry embrace, Teddy who is being held precariously somehow finds his foot swinging a hairs breadth from the open flames.

  Grandpa drops his pipe and reaches forwards as fast as his old body can.

  “Careful Fiorentina,” he says, as he looks and sees that the poor bear had slightly burnt his hand.

  Fiorentina looks down crossly at the bear in her little grip, and shakes her head in disgust as if it was his own fault entirely. Then she smiles up at Grandpa before running back to her mother who is clambering out from under the tree.

  In anticipation of his grandpa’s stories, Andrei takes his sisters hand. Together and cautiously they climb the aged and worn, timber slatted stairs.

  Grandpa slowly fills his pipe whilst mum, a burly woman with a strong head of black hair, climbs the stairs to tuck them in and say her own good night.

  Yohan reaches forwards and places a few more logs on the fire. Sparks of dazzling orange and yellows from the slightly damp timber, sizzle and pop as they make their way up the chimney.

  Fifteen minutes pass and their mother walks back down the stairs, she smiling at grandpa and gesturing for their stories to be told.

  Grandpa remembering his promise nods; then sighs as he begins to think about what story he can tell them.

  ‘They like the one about Jigor the bear, I do believe.’ He say’s, as he smiles at Grandma and then rubs his hands together in front of the ardent flames.

  Reaching over the arm of his chair, he places his pipe down on a small coffee table and begins to stand. As he does he’s startled, because he’s sure that from the end of the garden, he’s just seen the figure of a man.

  Blinking twice he holds his head up and looks again, only this time there’s no one, just frozen solid empty fields, waiting for the snow to go so that the animals can come back into the rich meadowlands to play.

  Yohan looks up at his father’s expression with some concern.

  “Papa are you ok.” He asks.

  ‘Thought I saw someone but I blinked and there was no one there. Wouldn’t worry son, I guess it must be my age.’ he replied with a smile as he turned with his walking stick, and then slowly and steadily made his way to the bottom of the stairs.

  Yohan sighed because he knows that he can’t take chances with his animals. His wife who is sick and normally in bed a lot due to her back, has made a special effort to stand just for Xmas. He’s the breadwinner and without him he’s sure that they wouldn’t have a choice but to sell the farm to avoid a tragic and bitter end.

  Due to economic decline, the area has seen many thefts of recent. Yohan who has no spare money to buy more animals, and cant take chances that he may, or may not be able to feed his family, stretches as he prepares to go and chec
k.

  Grandad pauses a moment to gather his strength, and then with his frail hand of eighty holding the banister, he heads up the stairs to tell his grandchildren a story.