by Jeff Elkins
Jose pounded the dashboard anxiously, yelling, “Get there. Come on. Get there.”
The fight was happening on the north side of the hill. The grassy, three story slope was as steep as the nosebleed section of a professional football stadium. The hill was broken in the middle by a sidewalk. The bottom of the hill emptied onto Key Highway. The top of the hill was flat. Along the top, following the hill’s crest, was a circular, brick walking path with green, wooden benches every ten feet. Inside the brick walkway was a large grassy space and a playground with climbing equipment shaped like a pirate ship. The north-facing rim was decorated with a Civil War era cannon, a giant American flag, and two small memorials to Baltimore’s war heroes.
At the top of the hill, Mencken slowed to take a better look at the fight. The pink circle he had seen from the road was swirling next to the cannon. It was six feet in diameter, just big enough for two of the massive monsters to step through. A steady stream of Mardocks marched through the portal. Agnew, Rothman, and Chris had taken their stand five feet downhill from the swirling circle. They fought on an incline, using their funnel formation to meet and contain the monsters the moment they stepped through the portal. Rothman imposing physique framed the bottom of the V, taking the brunt of the assault and receiving anything the other two deflected toward him. Agnew and Chris worked the left and right edge of the portal. Within seconds of stepping onto the grassy slope, the monsters met their end at the hands of the three heroes. Their broken and lifeless bodies were discarded down the hill. A trail of fifty black-blood stained corpses already littered the bottom half of the slope and were beginning to pile up at the mid-point sidewalk.
Mencken was so entranced by the scene on the hill, he almost didn’t notice when Jose threw open the door and jumped from the passenger seat into the street. The small teen ran up the hill toward the action. Fifteen yards from the car, Jose turned back to yelled to Mencken, “Get out of here. Find somewhere safe.” His torso and face were illuminated in a faint blue from the glowing, laser like blades on his gloves. After delivering his message, Jose turned and sprinted to join his cohort.
Mencken was in a daze. The scene before him was too much to walk away from. It was like nothing he’d ever seen, like nothing he’d ever imagined. He threw the car into park and stepped into the street. Vehicles streamed by him on the left, honking their horns, too busy with their own lives to stop and notice the scene in front of them, but Mencken couldn’t turn his eyes away.
Chris was on Rothman’s right. He fought with his bare hands, throwing and breaking combatants much like Jose had done on the lawn of City Hall. He ducked punches and lunges, striking back with fierce, deadly blows before his opponents could respond. His reflexes seemed inhuman. He sidestepped a swipe from on oncoming beast, leveraged the momentum and broke its arm. As the beast screamed in pain, Chris extended both hands in a smooth motion and halted the agonizing moan by snapping the monster’s thick neck and simultaneously discarding its body behind him while ducking the attempted strike of the next Mardock running through the portal.
Agnew, on Rothman’s left, fought more like a boxer. Left foot forward, right foot back, fists curled up to both protect and attack. She threw power filled jabs, crosses, and upper cuts to anything that came near. She lacked the grace of motion that Chris and Jose displayed, but she was filled with a fury and fire unequaled by the other two. Every punch connected with crippling power, demolishing assailants with a single blow. On contact there were explosion of black ooze. Only a few beasts needed a second strike. The rare pause she took from her cadence of hammering was an occasional sideways sweep of a foot to clear the area beneath her of fallen victims.
Rothman was the most terrifying being on the hill that day. He held the center of the siphon, catching any beast that made it past the others and receiving all the monsters they deflected toward him. Each hand wielded a black polished rod the length of his forearm. The ends of the posts were capped with a pointed metallic tip. Dead bodies of monsters flowed from him like water around a rock. With his right, he plunged his stick through the eye of one attacker. As he discarded the enemy with the flick of his wrist, he jammed the left stick into the chin of a second assailant. The force of the blow sending the beast rolling to the right, and tumbling down the hill.
Jose arrived at the battle line, taking up a position between Rothman and Agnew. Like Chris, he dodged and replied to the attacks with deadly efficiency. Unfortunately, his small stature was a disadvantage on the slope. Mencken noticed that often Jose was forced to first take out the beasts at the legs, and then strike their throats or faces as they fell.
A horn blared as a passing truck almost took off Mencken’s car door. The noise and rush of wind woke Mencken from the scene. As he turned to yell at the truck, something caught his eye. It was Gilly. The tiny man-thing in the suit was on the left corner of the hill, playing with shiny metal rods. Mencken squinted. The little beast seemed to be assembling something.
Mencken yelled to Jose, “Hey! Jose! Look!” But the boy was too far away and too engrossed in combat to hear. Mencken screamed again, but the foursome did not break their focus.
Mencken looked again to the well-dressed monster. Gilly was gleeful, smiling and laughing to himself. A rock formed in Mencken’s gut. He knew anything that would make Gilly happy was bad news for the heroes on the hill. Swallowing his fear, he jumped back in his car. Adrenaline surged through his veins. The pedal was mashed down and tires squealed as Mencken raced to the far corner of the hill and turned right on Covington Street. He whipped it into an empty parking spot in front of the Visionary Art Museum.
Jumping from his vehicle, he looked up the steep east side of the hill. It was peaceful. From this side, you’d never know a battle was being waged beyond the crest. He slammed his car door and ran. It was slow going. His legs ached after a few strides, but he forced himself upward, knowing that he had to stop Gilly. He couldn’t let that little teeth-stealing asshole turn the tide.
At the top of the hill, Mencken leaned on his knees and sucked air. His lungs hurt. His mouth ached. His neck throbbed. He scanned the park. It was quiet and empty. Chris had said they would get there early and clear it. Mencken wondered what they had done to chase off all the pedestrians. He could see the back of the pink circle. Nothing came from it. It sat, like a big pink wall, blocking any view of the carnage on the other side.
There was a cackle to Mencken’s right. It brought him back to his senses. He remember why he’d run up the hill in the first place. Looking over, he saw Gilly. The small man was still dancing about, fiddling with the shiny pieces of metal. Mencken could tell that Gilly was assembling something, but he had no idea what. Courage filled Mencken’s heart. “Hey!” he screamed, walking with authority toward the Sinciput. “You! You took my teeth, you little bastard!”
Gilly looked up, smiled, and clapped rapidly. “You comes to play. You comes to play!” the monster sang.
Mencken lunged, reaching for the little beast with both hands, intending to choke the life from it, but Gilly was faster than Mencken anticipated. Without dropping the two shiny rods, the little monster stepped toward Mencken, grabbed his arm, and bit down on Mencken’s wrist. Pain surged through Mencken’s body. Gilly’s teeth were like knives. Mencken’s blood filled Gilly’s face. In the split second it occurred to Mencken that Gilly was intending to bite straight through, to take a chunk out of Mencken’s left arm. Reflexively, Mencken pounded Gilly’s face with his right fist. Once. Twice. Three times before Gilly let go.
Mencken feel to his knees, holding his gushing forearm and applying pressure to stop the bleeding. Tears filled his eyes. His heart pounded with pain. He sobbed uncontrollably, realizing that in seconds, he’d lost. He didn’t want to be like Melody. He didn’t want to be the one the foursome mourned after the battle.
Gilly leaned in close, coming almost nose to nose with the weeping Mencken. Gilly’s mouth, cheeks, and white shirt were coated in red. The beast smiled at Mencke
n, showing its blood-stained teeth. “You should stay here,” Gilly said with glee. “Gilly the Glorious will put these downs and thens comes back for yous with empty hands. Okay?”
With all his might, Mencken pulled back and thrust his forehead forward, connecting with Gilly’s nose. Black, warm ooze mixed with red. Gilly laughed, wiping its bleeding nose with its forearm. “Wait, wait,” Gilly said, stepping back. “Wait, wait,” he said, holding up the complicated metal rods to Mencken. “We can wrestle in moments. I’ll be right back.”
Mencken watched hopelessly as Gilly ran off toward the battle. He screamed, trying to get the foursome’s attention again, trying to warn them, trying to let them know that he had failed, but still, he couldn’t break their focus. Struggling to his feet, he stumbled forward to the crest of the hill. The battle still raged before him. Bodies of the beasts were piled at the bottom of the hill, but the monsters continued to file from the pink circle.
Gilly arrived at the edge of the portal to the other world. Seemingly unfazed by the carnage below, the Sinciput counted off four paces from the gateway.
Mencken frantically searched the ground with his eyes. Small metal parts and cut wires were scattered through the grass: the remnants of Gilly’s craft. A wave of nausea came over him. He choked it down, shaking his head back to the moment, forcing his mind to stay focused on the task at hand. There, in the mess of discarded things, was white packaging paper.
Like a flag bearer claiming conquered land, Gilly slammed one of the metal rods into the ground. Fiddling with a knob at its top, he began to extend it up, expanding the rod like a tent pole.
Mencken spread the packaging out with his foot, knelt down, and jammed his bloody forearm into the pile. The paper filled with his blood, sticking to his arm. Scrambling, he laid the back of his forearm on a stretch of wire. With his free hand, he bent the thin metal strands around his arm and connected the ends of the wire, twisting them together, tighter and tighter, until the packaging paper was locked onto his wound.
Gilly ran his hands up and down the rod. The metallic pole began to glow and drew the edge of the coral circle towards its tip.
Mencken glanced down to the battle on the field and saw Jose slip on the oily ooze gathering at his feet. The teen fell, rolling several yards away from the action. Mencken could tell the team was fading. Agnew’s arms had lost their feisty energy and she labored with every swing. Chris was spending more time with each combatant, no longer able to end them with a single blow.
Rothman screamed, noticing Gilly for the first time.
To compensate for the loss of Jose, Agnew attempted to move closer to the portal and fill in the gap, but she slipped as well and almost caught a Mardock claw in the jaw. Mencken held his breath, thinking the formation would collapse, but Jose rose to his feet and scrambled to retake his position in the V. With Jose back in place, at Rothman’s command, the foursome to surge forward, but the stream of combatants wouldn’t allow them to gain a step.
The corners of the pink circle continued to stretch until they met the edge of Gilly’s rod. Agnew screamed in horror as three beasts raced from the newly expanded portal
Rothman bellowed, “Hold the line!”
The third monster flanked Agnew on the left, attempting to push her down into Jose and collapse the formation. Agnew threw a cross to the monster farthest on the outside, connecting with its jaw, sending it to the ground. She stepped around it, expanding the V.
Jose sliced the ankles of a monster on Agnew’s right, and then, as he moved into her spot, he ran his laser-like fist across its neck.
Agnew surged up the hill, delivering a powerful jab to an oncoming Mardock’s chest, successfully falling the beast with a single blow, and then crushing its head with her left boot.
The fight resumed at a heightened pace, with the foursome having expanded their formation to meet the increased number of combatants streaming from the portal.
Gilly clapped with glee from behind the magical entrance, jumping up and down to celebrate its success. The small creature turned and picked up the second rod where it lay in the grass. Lining up with the first rod, he began to count off four paces, clearly planning to expand the portal again, but as Gilly took his second step Mencken threw all his force into the beast. Like a linebacker taking down a quarterback from the blind side, he leveled the small creature with his right shoulder.
Gilly collided with the glowing rod planted in the ground. It sparked, and then went dark. The pink portal snapped back to its original size. Gilly screamed with rage. Striding toward the fallen Mencken, the short monster yelled, “Now! You makes me kill you now!”
Mencken lay on his stomach, his bleeding left arm pulled close to his body. He waited until the Sinciput got closer. He could hear it approaching. He visualized the monster’s steps. He knew that he had to time his next move perfectly. Gilly was too fast and too strong for him to face off with directly. Surprise was his only weapon. If he waited too long, the beast would be on him, tearing his flesh from his bones with its shark like teeth. If he struck too early, Gilly would dodge and take his life in seconds.
Gilly continued to rant as he closed on Menkcen. “You dares to touch Gilly the Great, Gilly the Glorious. You dares to interfere. Now you dies. Now, not later. Now.” The Sinciput was so close to its prey, its mouth had begun to water. Mencken could feel its excitement, its longing to see his blood spilt.
“Gilly will rip you’s face off. Gilly rips you’s face off with my bare hands,” the monster said slowly, in order to savor the final moments before it pounced.
Mencken lay perfectly still in the grass, pretending to be spent, listening to Gilly’s approaching steps.
Gilly stopped above Mencken. The beast leaned in to grab the fallen reporter. A thousand methods of torture danced in its wild eyes.
“Now,” Mencken said to himself. Pushing off with his bad shoulder, Mencken thrust his right hand forward with all his might. The discarded steel shard he’d been clutching stabbed Gilly in the chest.
Black blood spewed from the fresh wound. Taking a step back and clutching its shoulder, the monster let loose a high pitch shriek of surprise.
Mencken jumped to his feet. Letting go of the shard in the monster’s chest, he dug into his pocket for his lighter. He flipped it open and sparked it with his thumb. A small orange and blue flame emerged.
Gilly’s eyes grew wide with fear as the monster realized what was about to happen. He stepped backward again, preparing to turn and run, but his foot snagged a fallen piece of his construction, causing him to stumble. Catching himself with his left hand, he regained his feet, but before he could step, Mencken was on him.
Grabbing the metal that protruded from the center of the tiny monster with one hand, Mencken pulled the shard out of Gilly’s chest and thrust the lighter forward, holding it to the fresh wound. “Burn you little bastard,” Mencken whispered into the monster’s ear.
Gilly hollowed in pain as his wound caught fire. The flame raced from the exterior of his body to the interior. His entire being filled with agony as the interior maze of his cardiovascular system was set ablaze.
Seeing the fire, Rothman screamed from behind Mencken, “RETREAT! EVERYONE! RETREAT!”
“Mencken, NO!” Chris yelled.
“Fuck!” Agnew screamed.
Holding the limp beast tight in a headlock with his good forearm, Mencken ran toward the entrance of the portal dragging Gilly along behind him. He had no idea what effect a blazing Gilly would have on the opening, but he figured it would be a show-stopper. The monster was heating up like a stovetop set to “High.” Mencken’s arm and chest began to blister from the heat of Gilly.
A Mardock, fresh from the portal, attempted to step in Mencken’s path, but to Mencken and the muscle-bound beast’s shock, the monster collapsed to its knees. A blue streak ran across the monster’s neck, sending the monster’s head falling to the right as its body fell forward at the feet of Jose.
Mencken came to
a halt at the site of the decapitation. Vomit filled his mouth. He stumbled and let go of Gilly.
Jose grabbed the tiny beast by the neck and pivoted his hip, throwing Gilly’s body into the mouth of the pink circle at the feet of two confused Mardocks who only just entered the fight. Completing his three-hundred-and-sixty degree spin, Jose pushed Mencken hard, launching both of them up the hill, to the back side of the portal.
Gilly’s body hit the ground and ruptured. Liquid fire burst from his extremities and orifices, pouring onto the black-blood soaked hill. As the fire bomb that was once Gilly touched the grass, the hill sparked into a blaze, every drop of the black ooze igniting in bright blue flame.
Jose continued to shove Mencken, pushing him from the path of the growing fire. Once across the brick path, they fell onto their chests in the grass. The heat of the fire behind them licked their legs and backs.
Trying to catch his breath, Jose said, “We try not to do that shit until we can control it. You know, to avoid burning to death.”
Mencken sat up, looked at Jose, and realized that the teen’s face, shirt, and pants, were all thickly smeared with the black, flammable blood. “Oh, shit,” Mencken said, suddenly realizing that he might have also ignited one of the foursome. “Sorry. I didn’t-“
Jose smile. “It’s fine. You’re so slow, we were all able to get clear.”
The two friends turned over to look at the blaze they had barely escaped. The entire hill was engulfed in seven-foot flames. Tiny orange embers danced in the evening sky, playing off the red sunset. The small burning particles drifted into the air, taking with them the evidence of what had just occurred. The pink circle flickered and then disappeared, vanishing into the orange, burning glow of the fire.
“At least we don’t have to clean all that up,” Chris said, sitting down on the other side of Mencken. He too was covered in the black oil.
