by Luke Romyn
Now, however, that evil had come to them in the form of the Dark Man and somewhere deep inside himself, Vain felt a small pang of regret that he had tainted the purity of this holy place with his presence.
Shaking the strange thoughts aside, Vain mounted the stairs and followed Shin-thao up towards massive main doors, cast open like the maws of an enormous animal awaiting its prey. Upon entering, Vain noted the colossal ceilings and the beams that criss-crossed to support them. His gaze was drawn to a giant statue of the Buddha and a chair that lay directly in front of it, facing towards the main entry.
Shin-thao bounded across the floor and sat in the chair before the Buddha.
“Get out of there, you idiot,” hissed Vain. “If the Abbot comes in and sees you in his chair we’ll both get kicked out of here.”
“The Abbot is already here,” Shin-thao stated calmly. His words no longer carried the simplistic tone or accent, nor did he appear the same as when Vain had first met him at the village. The constant squinting and nervous fidgeting his guide had displayed now disappeared; he held the composure of a man at home.
“What do you mean Shin-thao?” asked Vain cagily.
“My name is not Shin-thao, it is Abbot Dokei. Just as your name is not Jackson Phillips. Why don’t you tell me your real name? I think the time for charades is over.”
“I am Vain,” said the assassin.
“Yes you are, but what is your name?” queried Abbot Dokei.
Vain began to answer, but saw the familiar lines begin to quirk at the corners of his former guide’s mouth and knew he was being played with again.
“You sneaky little bastard,” whispered Vain incredulously. “Not many people can fool me, but you did a hell of a job.”
“Mind your language in this place,” warned Abbot Dokei, his voice once more assuming a tone of authority. “This is a holy place and you taint it with your words.”
“I am sorry,” Vain apologized with a note of irritation. “But it is true, you fooled me.”
“I never said I was not the Abbot. You did not ask.”
“That’s simply wordplay,” said Vain. “You know what I say is true.”
Abbot Dokei shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps, but I found it necessary to discover who you were and if you meant this place harm. Besides,” he added with a sly grin, “I don’t get out much.”
Vain chuckled, again catching a glimpse of Shin-thao within Abbot Dokei and decided to let the matter rest.
“What is it that you have come to inquire of me, Vain?”
The Dark Man paused and gathered his thoughts. He struggled to accept that the diminutive figure before him was actually the Abbot of this entire temple, having spent the last few days joking with him on the journey up the mountain.
“I need the talisman and the weapon,” he finally said.
Abbot Dokei looked at him quizzically. “What talisman? What weapon?” he asked.
Vain’s heart sank. If Abbot Dokei didn’t know of the articles he needed, his quest ended here. He would try to fight his enemies, but knew he had no chance.
Swallowing his trepidation, Vain began to explain, “I am the guardian of the Avun-Riah. Information led me to believe you knew where the weapons to defeat his enemies are hidden.”
The Abbot’s eyes moved from confusion to comprehension to fear in the space of a few heartbeats.
“You speak of the Glimloche,” he whispered in awe. “It is no mere amulet or weapon. It is a creation more dangerous than Sordarrah himself. If it were to fall into the wrong hands it would mean the end of all existence.”
“Yeah, well, if I don’t stop them from killing the boy, apparently it will mean the same thing,” stated Vain blandly.
“You mean they have the boy already?” gasped the Abbot. “This is terrible. You must save him.”
“To do that I need this thing to overcome the people who hold him.”
Abbot Dokei pondered the predicament for a long moment before finally coming to a decision. “The Glimloche is not attainable for you anyway,” he pronounced finally. “It was dismissed from this world into the fourth level of Hell where no mortal can go. Even Sordarrah’s minions cannot reach it, for it lies deep within the realm of Lucifer himself. Only a being of pure evil can go there and hope to return.”
“Can you get me there?” asked Vain.
The Abbot balked at the request. “Possibly, but you cannot do it. Have you heard nothing I have just said? Only pure evil can exist in Hell.”
“I am Vain,” the assassin growled, a hint of his old rage rising. “The Dark Man who hunts people both for profit and my own satisfaction. I almost killed you coming up the mountain on a whim. If I can’t go there, then nobody can, so just shut up and send me so that I can retrieve the Glimloche and kill those bastards.”
Abbot Dokei visibly paled at the Dark Man’s words. He calmed himself with difficulty, gazing into the Dark Man’s eyes with dread, but also a touch of pity.
“It will be done,” he said softly, “but it saddens me to see this change in you. On the trip here I perceived you to be a good man, despite your anger inside. Now I see I was not the only one masking my identity.”
Abbot Dokei rose and walked slowly from the temple.
* * * *
The Dark Man lay on the cold stones of the temple floor, seven monks sitting in a rough circle around him. Their chanting had continued for hours, and the overwhelming scent of incense almost made him gag, but he forced himself to remain still as the Abbot had instructed him.
Before they began, Abbot Dokei had pleaded with Vain to reconsider, but the assassin remained unmoved by the appeal and demanded they continue.
“One thing, however,” he’d said as the ceremony got underway. “How will I find this Glimloche?”
“If you are what you say, you will be drawn to its power,” Abbot Dokei murmured sadly. “Evil created the Glimloche and the darkness in your soul will pull you towards it. Be careful. When you find it, it will try to overpower you and use you for its own purpose. That is how Empeth succumbed to evil. Originally a Guardian of the first Avun-Riah almost two thousand years ago, he succeeded in saving the child from the first attempt on his soul, but was unaware that a second chance would present itself to his enemies twenty six years later.
“They succeeded in catching the Avun-Riah and tortured him horribly before nailing him to a cross. Though it destroyed him to do so, Empeth disguised himself as a soldier and plunged a spear into the Holy one’s side, ending his life before the resurrection of Sordarrah.
“In the years that followed, Empeth’s failure began to gnaw at him from inside, and gradually the Glimloche began to overpower him. What you see today is the end result. He is now the most powerful of Sordarrah’s servants, even more-so than The Four. This could be the fate that awaits you.”
Vain had nodded grimly at the advice, but still insisted on continuing with the ceremony that would send him to Hell. They’d placed him on the floor within the circle and begun the chanting. If he could obtain the Glimloche, its power would return his soul to his body.
The chanting seemed to increase in strength, and Vain began to feel a light tugging in his chest. The tugging became stronger, more insistent, like his entire body was being wrenched from the floor by some giant hand, yet he still sensed the cold dampness of the stone beneath him.
Finally, with a sudden, unexpected shout from the monks, Vain felt a tearing sensation and shrieked a noiseless cry. His soul ripped agonizingly from his body and flew into a darkness so deep that all others paled beside it.
* * * *
Vain awoke on a grassy hill under a cloudless sky. Initially disorientated and unsure of his whereabouts, Vain gradually remembered the ceremony and looked about him in wonder.
They were supposed to send me to Hell, not Iowa, he thought absently. Pretty similar, I guess. An easy mistake.
Standing up, the ground beneath his feet suddenly lurched and he stumbled before catching himself on
a tree stump. To his horror, his fingers ended in six-inch claws and were covered in bleeding sores that broke and hissed. Looking down at himself, his entire body was naked and covered in the same leprous growths.
The land tilted again and this time Vain fell. The earth a few yards away burst and erupted with scores of grossly malformed creatures of all descriptions. Scorpions with the faces of children beamed up at Vain, smiling sweetly. A pack of bloodied ravens swooped down to stab and peck at them, their wickedly sharp beaks formed of charred bone.
Across the hill another hole ripped open, spewing its contents out onto the grass. Time and again this happened until the entire landscape appeared covered in misshapen parodies of earthbound life.
A small rabbit hopped towards an enormous wolf–its belly torn open and dumping everything it devoured. The rabbit gazed innocently at the wolf. Vain felt certain its time had come. Instead, when the wolf lunged, the rabbit’s jaws opened impossibly wide, revealing row upon row of razor-sharp fangs. With a single bite it severed the wolf’s head and swallowed it without pause, quickly turning and hopping away. The wolf’s body stood motionless for a heartbeat before slowly tipping to the side and falling to the now blood-smeared grass.
With a tremendous crack, the blue sky ripped from horizon to horizon, shattering outwards like an enormous pane of glass smashed by a hammer. A red swirling cloud rapidly filled the void, eddying before bursting with thick drops of blood that fell heavily onto the creatures below.
Vain rose from the ground and made his way down the hill towards the only visible road. The creatures parted before him as he moved and he passed untouched and unhindered all the way to the dark path.
The road cracked and splintered, oozing a thick black liquid that ran off to the sides, leaving the centre untouched. Vain easily made his way down the broken road, eventually spotting the glimmer of an enormous tower in the distance. He quickly moved towards the structure, finding himself before two enormous doors.
Around the perimeter of the tower lay the scattered bones and decomposing bodies of massive creatures defying description. Some boasted three heads and six legs, others consisting of tiny bodies and monstrous craniums that seemed merely mouths filled with foot-long daggers for teeth. The black tower stretched high into the bloodied sky, crumbling in parts, and carrying a deep sense of wrongness.
Vain felt somehow drawn to the wrongness and searched the doors for a way to enter. Eventually he found a small button to the side of the frame and cautiously pressed it, expecting some sort of trap to emerge.
Ding Dong.
Vain shook his head at the absurdity of this place and stepped back to await a response. He heard deep thudding footsteps from within and reached abstractly for his pistols. Finding nothing there, he looked again at his clawed fingers and tested them by slashing his hand towards one of the bleached bones nearby. The claws passed through the thick bone without pause and the two parts fell to the ground with a heavy clatter. Vain smiled grimly at his new weapons and readied himself for whatever opened the door.
The footsteps drew closer and closer and Vain could feel the ground beneath his feet begin to shake. Quelling the urge to flee, he stood ready to pounce, determined to at least make a good account of himself before he died.
But if he was already in Hell, how could he die?
The footsteps thudded to just inside the doorway and stopped. Vain braced himself. The towering twenty-foot doors began to open inwards. His gaze dropped down when he saw the figure standing inside the entrance.
A little girl.
But not just any girl; it was Angelique.
Vain choked back a sob and, ignoring his instincts, rushed towards the figure. Scooping her up and holding her in his grossly deformed arms, he tried to contain the anguish attempting to tear through his chest.
“Time to burn, Dark Man,” whispered Angelique.
Vain tried to pull away, but the child’s strength seemed to grow along with her body. Her back bulged and writhed and finally exploded outwards to reveal huge, corded muscles beneath. Her skin became scaled and reptilian while Vain struggled uselessly and felt his breath being crushed from him. Lifted high into the air, he gritted his teeth and raked his claws down the creature’s back.
The beast flung Vain to the ground and reeled back, roaring in pain. Grazing the top frame of the doors, the creature loomed above the assassin and bared its teeth in a parody of a smile. A forked tongue darted out from a lizard’s snout, slipping almost instantaneously through its long, serrated teeth.
“Nice to see you, Dark Man,” it whispered sibilantly. “We were hoping you would come and entertain us with your screams. Your soul has developed a truly wonderful image; there is such beauty embodied in your evil. Wouldn’t you like to keep it? You have strayed from your true path for too long. It is time for you to return to us. Your alternative is death.”
Vain darted to the left right when the creature pounced at him, slashing upwards into its ribs. The wound tore deep and Vain watched a thick green sludge drip from the gash before the creature covered it with its own clawed hand and howled into the bloody sky.
More cautious now, the beast crouched low to the ground readying itself to pounce.
“Please, please forgive me,” pleaded Vain, dropping to one knee and burying his head in his hands. “I’ll come back, just don’t hurt me.”
Confused by the assassin’s change of stance, the creature lowered its guard for a fraction of a second, just as Vain had hoped, and he leapt with lightning alacrity and swept both sets of claws forward and into the throat of the giant beast. The monster reared up to its full height, dragging the Dark Man off his feet with his claws still buried deep in its throat. He wrapped his legs around the creature’s back and strained his rapidly tiring muscles. The creature reached hopelessly for the assassin, but Vain swept his arms apart, slicing through the bone and sinew of the creature’s neck and completely severing its head.
The beast’s skull fell to the road with a satisfying thud, and Vain dropped to the ground. “I could get used to these,” he muttered, admiring his claws.
The body quickly dissolved into a thick sludge, sliding to the side of the road and joining the bloodied mess that already lay there. The Dark Man examined the head, its lidless eyes glaring balefully up at him, its mouth moving voicelessly, still trying to speak.
“Don’t get up,” chuckled Vain, “I’ll get the door.”
With a last look of anguish, the eyes finally went blank and the creature’s head also liquefied, but the assassin retained an odd feeling, like something still watched him.
Brushing aside the sensation, Vain crept warily through the massive entryway, into a giant, empty chamber, its grey granite walls seeming to pulse and flow, as though they were part of a living creature somehow aware of his presence. In the distance stood what appeared to be an elevator. Apart from that, the room was vacant, and Vain cautiously made his way over, checking the floor for any hidden traps while edging around the outside wall. His feet sticking to the floor, the air clinging to him like syrup, he trudged on. By the time he made it across to the elevator Vain had beads of sweat forming upon his demonic brow.
Sweating in Hell, he thought abstractly. Who would have imagined?
Checking the elevator thoroughly for any possible ensnarement, Vain warily pressed the button and leapt back, expecting the worst. Nothing happened. The doors slid open with a low ‘ping’, and he carefully approached the empty elevator and stepped in.
Everything in Vain screamed trap, but with no option other than turning back, he swiftly pressed the button for the top floor. The doors slid shut with a gentle whoosh, and the elevator gradually began its ascent. Vain’s nerves began to settle and he leaned back against the wall.
Suddenly the lift stopped with a jolt.
What now?
Immediately the floor dropped, and he found himself momentarily suspended in midair while the lift plummeted for what seemed like an eternity. Just as q
uickly, however, it stopped, crashing him to the floor before instantly speeding off to the right, bouncing the assassin off the far wall. The elevator continued on this insane journey for an eon. Sometimes flying left, other times veering right. Up, down, shooting forward or flinging backwards.
He quickly learned his lesson and held tightly onto the handrail, positioning himself in the corner, but the rail twisted in his grasp, transforming into snakes heads filled with venomous fangs. Vain had to fight off the vicious attacks whilst still grappling for balance in the disturbingly flighty elevator.
When the doors finally opened, a bruised and battered Vain emerged, leaving a mess of brass snake-heads in his wake. He stepped into a completely different part of the tower–if he was still in the tower at all. The walls no longer pulsed and moved; these were a strange purple and plastered in pictures–photos of people.
Vain moved closer to one of the pictures. It resembled a crooked lawyer he had dispatched some six years before. Intrigued, he moved on to the next photo and the next. Each bore the face of one of his victims, staring out at him from within the frame.
“That’s right, Dark Man,” said an eerie voice behind him. “This is the house of your victims. We have waited here for eternity to reap revenge upon the one who maimed and slaughtered us, and now you have come as we were foretold.”
Vain whipped around. Dante’s grossly misshapen features glared at him. Clad in a tight leather vest that hung open to the waist, Dante’s skin seemed to have been flayed from his body, leaving only his face untouched. He wore nothing else apart from an enormous piercing through the middle of his bloodied genitalia, from which hung a massive lead ball that dragged his penis almost to the floor.
