by Shawn Mackey
“As I was saying, I can devour everything around us except myself. And here is how I win, old friend. During our trade, I kept a little bit of you as a precaution. Since you possess a part of me, you cannot kill me.”
“And you can’t kill me either.”
“I can eat every bit that doesn’t belong to me, leaving nothing of you. I won before this ever really started.”
“Unless it’s a bluff. You would be eating yourself, leaving only me.”
“You’re welcome to try. Take heart, a piece of your old self continues to live inside you.”
“I still don’t believe you.”
“If only you could see yourself through my eyes! I needed to come here to see your reflection in the pool. It casts a man, while I still see the monster. The puddle of black ooze made complete. No, I wouldn’t kill something so special. Don’t force me to do so.”
“And I still don’t believe you. However, I’m willing to come to an agreement.”
“Because the eye spotted us, this world has garnered too much attention to disperse anytime soon, no matter what happens to Rufus. I happen to like this ugly body, so I have no intentions of leaving here. The downside, and here’s where we come into conflict, is that I decided to kill Rufus. At least, I’d like to kill him. As a gesture of good faith, I’ll give you a fighting chance. Battle Gorgo in a duel. If you win, Rufus lives. If you lose, Rufus dies. Is that fair?”
“I don’t like your tone, old friend.”
“It could be much worse. I’m being very civil. Don’t you agree?”
I threw my body at Dion, ramming my shoulder into his fat belly. He stumbled backward, lost his balance on the pool’s edge, and plunged into the water with a gigantic splash. I watched the wavy clear water gradually turn pitch-black. His robes rose to the surface, held by two tiny black tendrils. They tossed it onto the grass, letting it flow open, revealing a large lump of flesh. The tendrils flowed from the water into this lump, inflating it like a human-shaped balloon. Dion’s robe ensconced the body during the reformation.
“Well done,” he said, throwing his hood over his jawless face. “After an eternity of antagonizing you, I’ll consider us even for that juvenile gesture. Are we in agreement? Regarding the duel, of course.”
“Not until you give me a reason. Why kill Gorgo?”
“I have a stake in the outcome. This world has a will of its own. All of these worlds do; this has just become the exception. Rufus isn’t the sole owner, and after he dies, it will have a life of its own. I can reshape it into something a bit more pleasing to me, but I’d like to see how it pans out. To satisfy the Muse, I suppose.”
“Where does that leave me?”
“That’s up to you. Try to stop me and fail miserably. Join my side and share the rewards. Go alone and make your own path. As long as it doesn’t interfere with my designs.”
“What if I choose to leave?”
“Have you been listening? This—”
“I’m not talking about walking away.”
“I see. What’s stopping you from doing that now? The girl? What if she chooses to stay here? The chances of finding her again would become impossible.”
“I was speaking hypothetically. I’d rather stick around here too. There’s another continent across the ocean, according to these people. Maybe it’s more to my liking.”
“Can we go back to the village peacefully?”
“I’m not liking your new demeanor. Why don’t you kill Gorgo yourself? Or at least try.”
“I couldn’t do it without giving myself away. All that’s left is you.”
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
While walking back to the village, neither of us said a word. I didn’t trust him, and it was pretty obvious he didn’t trust me. Nonetheless, he made his intentions clear. I wondered if it were more advantageous to cooperate. I believed his theory, or at least his belief in it, which would place both of us in a strange situation, neither good nor bad for the time being. Did Rufus need to be here? I couldn’t shake my old instinct to save him. On the other hand, it made no real difference in the long run. For now, I decided to cooperate.
The whole village had gathered in front of the smoky building, the men armed with long spears and some of the women tending to Rufus. His right shoulder was wrapped in white bandages blotted with speckles of wet blood. Many of the spears were pointed at Gorgo, knelt down with head bowed and hands bound by rope. As Dion and I arrived, he looked up. The butt of Muego’s sword slammed into his cheek. Gorgo wiped his bleeding lip against his shoulder with a growl.
“Tell him,” Dion said to me.
“He wants us to fight for our freedom. You and I, hand to hand. What do you say?”
“One condition,” Gorgo said, rising to his feet. “If I kill you, I forfeit my freedom to battle Muego. If he kills me, so be it. If I kill him, I’ll forfeit my life, as well, if you shall have it.”
“If you kill Muego, you’ll replace him,” Dion said with a wheezy laugh. “I’ll allow it. They,” he pointed to the crowd, “require justice. One of your lives will suffice.”
“Sorry it ended up like this, pal. I’ll go easy on you,” I said.
“I won’t,” he said as Muego sliced the ropes around his wrists. The armed Cythereans formed a circle around us, the tips of their spears jutting straight ahead.
Gorgo launched at me right away. He snatched my shirt sleeve and tried to toss me toward the spears pointed at my back. I grabbed onto his shoulder, stopping the throw and taking a knee to the gut instead. His fist pounded my already swollen face. After three hard blows, he attempted to toss me again. I wrapped my hands around his neck and tried to reverse it, only to stumble and send both of us tumbling to the ground. I landed on top of him, striking him in the face. As I went in for the next punch, he planted his knee into my groin, and then used both legs to flip me off his body.
I lay on my back, the tip of a spear directly over my head. Before I could shake my daze, Gorgo had me by the neck. He raised my body upward. I felt the cold spear tip on the back of my neck, my fingers clenching onto the ground to halt Gorgo’s deathblow. The grass started to tear, the tip of the spear bit into my skin. Gorgo’s eyes were wide, spittle dripping from his clenched teeth.
I mustered the strength to move my body sideways, slicing open my neck but clearing me away from the spears. Gorgo’s grip tightened, cutting off my breath. I tried wiggling him off, but his knees were planted firmly over my chest. I lifted my legs, the strain bringing me closer to the brink of strangulation, and wrapped my ankles around Gorgo’s neck. I pulled him back for a second, giving me the opportunity to take in a huge breath of air, but his hands were back around my throat.
My vision blurred, and Gorgo’s wide eyes started to dim. My gaze passed from him to the bloodied spear point. I pulled my legs back, strengthening my grip around his neck, but causing him to strengthen his as well. With that extra bit of slack, I pushed my legs forward, moving Gorgo with them. His hands nearly crushed my neck from the additional weight, but the moment the spear dug into his chest, he released his hands to pull it out. I pushed my legs back all the way, slamming his head into the ground.
The spear pierced deeper than it first appeared. Blood poured from his mouth and trickled down a nostril. I stood, only to fall back to my knees, heaving in huge gulps of air and rubbing my aching neck. No matter how much it hurt to breathe, my lungs welcomed oxygen. Gorgo gnashed his crimson teeth, jittery hands still reaching for me.
“I’ll make things right,” I said, striking him in the face. His body went still.
The Cythereans erupted into a booming cheer. When their circle parted, allowing Muego to enter, their cheer grew louder. He cracked his knuckles with a grin.
“Enough!” Dion shouted, cutting their revelry short. “This one earned his freedom by law. Is that clear, Muego?”
“I only meant to congratulate him,” he said.
“Do so from a distance. For now, we deal with the other
interloper. Due to his injuries and inability to face trial by combat, he’ll face a swift and merciful execution.”
“What?” I shouted, my voice drowned by the fresh cheering.
“Quiet!” Dion roared. It roused Rufus back into consciousness.
“The pain’s gone. What a miracle! I’m alive,” he said, laughing. Muego joined in, followed by a few others.
“We had a deal,” I said, approaching Dion.
“Did you see it going any other way?” he said. “Walk away, old friend. Whatever happens after this, never say I denied you the chance to walk away.”
A spear passed through the throat of an unsuspecting Muego, all the way up to the hilt. He raised one hand and weakly tried to pry it away before tipping backward, falling to the ground in a lifeless heap. The other Cythereans raised their weapons, glancing back and forth between the dead warlord and his assassin, Gorgo, who clutched his chest, limping toward the corpse with dagger drawn.
“I can say the same for them. No one denied them the chance to destroy a tyrant,” I said to the crowd. “Who will you side with? Your oppressor or liberator? Magnus is camped outside Vini. With the head of Muego, he’ll raze the city and sow it with salt. What will it be? The dead man and a foreigner or Magnus and an army?”
A Cytherean plunged his spear into the Muego’s stomach. The others rushed for their part in the kill, stabbing their weapon into his flesh, tearing it out and sticking it back into anywhere unblemished, the sound of wet tearing fueling their frenzy. A few slipped in the growing stream of blood in which torn bits of flesh and innards flowed. When they finally parted, only an unrecognizable pile of gore and broken bones remained. Gorgo raised Muego’s severed head above his, holding the bloody dagger between his wide grin.
“You’ve done nothing but irritate me. No more or less,” Dion said. “What use do I have for a troublesome gadfly? We’ll never reach an understanding. We were gods, old friend. Nothing stops me from such, but I’m afraid life’s passed you by. A commendable effort, full of victory and loss, all of them admirable. Unfortunately, no one wins in the end.”
Dozens of black snakes launched from Dion’s chest. They spread apart, darting at each of the Cythereans. Their weapons were futile against the snakes, the spear tips engulfed by the expanding oily black ooze, quickly spreading to their hands and up their arms, swallowing up the rest within an instant, then collapsing into small puddles. These tiny masses converged into a larger pool.
I grabbed hold of Rufus. He was sweating, mumbling incoherent nonsense and seemingly drifting in and out of consciousness. The monstrosity slid across the ground and spread atop the bloody remains of Muego, turning the crimson pool into an oily black. Tiny tendrils seized pieces of flesh and melded them into clumps, stuck the broken bones into the clumps and fused the pieces together. Within moments, a patchwork colossus in the shape of a headless Muego staggered toward me. The black ooze continued to shift around skin and bone, covering exposed muscle and nerves.
“Run,” it wheezed, prying a sword from one of the dead Cythereans. A head started to sprout from its severed neck. “I don’t want to kill you. Don’t make me kill you.”
This was the end. I stood and took a few steps back, watching the bubbling oil drip and hiss at me. Its face morphed into more human features. Jets of black ooze spewed from every orifice and wound. It collapsed, clutching at its chest. An eye fell from a socket and splattered into the black pool. Another grew in its place.
“Get out,” it groaned, attempting to stand, only to collapse again. “I’m going to kill you if you don’t leave.”
“You seem to be in need of a mercy killing,” I said, drawing my sword. I placed the tip up to his blackened face. It had hardened into chalky clay. “Been waiting a long time for this. It’s been fun. How about I send you back home? Say hello to—”
I brushed the sword point across his face, revealing a pristine cheek. The rest cracked, and with a quick shake of his head, it crumbled.
How long had I been looking for that face? I finally saw it and the whole truth laid bare. My sole instinct was to flee, but my body was paralyzed by a fear so overwhelming it even stifled my breath. The dread its true countenance instilled left me wondering how I managed to last so long.
Its form collapsed into a black puddle. As I turned to run, I felt it latch onto my ankle. Within seconds, it swallowed up my leg and torso, all the way up to my neck. Before being engulfed by darkness, I saw Gorgo trying to help Rufus to his feet, both watching me in horror. I tried breathing inside the pitch ooze, only to draw its coldness into my lungs.
My frozen body was swallowed by pain, dissolving my consciousness into a state of perpetual agony, like being devoured by molecular-sized ants, eaten atom by atom, bit of flesh by bit of flesh. Something in the pit of my stomach, at least where I perceived it, generated more mass to feed my insatiable devourer, leaving me in a cycle of fresh skin and new pain. I was nothing but a gummy ball of gelatin, ground and shredded under ravenous jaws.
As the pain subsided, those jaws weakened. I could hear its suckling, see my dark cage, and feel my mass grow faster than its biting. The wretch was going to choke on its unending hunger. I plunged my hand through the ooze, and then scraped it off my face, still unable to fully open my eyes.
The remaining ooze melted into a cold liquid, vaporizing itself against my flesh. Tendrils of smoke rose into the air and dispersed in the wind. I rose to my knees, brushing my fingers against my chilly flesh, though no worse off than a minor frostbite. The rising sun provided enough warmth to return my senses.
I opened my eyes and saw a jawless skull lying at my feet. I picked it up and stood, watching its vacant stare while trying to bear my aching limbs. When did a man get the opportunity to hold his own skull and peer into its empty gaze? The bastard thought himself clever. Now look at him. Dead.
“It is a beautiful thing, to hold the head of one’s enemy,” Gorgo said. He held Muego’s in both hands.
“I wouldn’t know,” I said, tossing aside the skull. It smashed against a rock, exploding into a hundred tiny splinters.
“We are free from Muego and Dion. All that remains is Magnus. Will you join me, stranger?”
“No,” I replied, standing over Rufus. He had fainted during my whole ordeal. “You’re more than capable.”
“I wished to share the glory with my new friends. You are worthy after all.”
“Next time,” I said with a grunt, heaving the fat man over my shoulder. “I have something more pressing at the moment. Someone I need to find.”
“Good luck, stranger. Remember, at the very least, you owe me a rematch!”
-
We arrived at the hill overlooking the camp. I set Rufus down for a brief rest. My destination was the ocean, but I had to figure out what to do with Rufus. His eyes fluttered as he started to breathe steadier.
“They don’t pay by the word anymore,” he muttered.
“What?”
“I run a science fiction magazine. My crap makes up most of the content. A few locals buy it. I think it’s because they feel bad for me.”
“I’m sure one of them is a fan.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m retiring.”
“Well, looks like today’s the first day of your life, or however that goes.”
“It doesn’t feel like it. I can hardly breathe. This isn’t a dream.”
“It is.”
“That’s not what you said earlier.”
“Don’t worry about what I said earlier. Just relax, Rufus. You’ll be waking up in your bed any moment now. This is just a bad dream.”
“Who are you?”
“A part of your subconscious.”
“That’s a lie. Who are you?”
“Just a dream. Close your eyes and go to sleep. You’ll wake up faster.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Time usually goes faster with your eyes closed.”
“Is that something you should
be saying to a dying man?”
“How many times do I need to say it? You aren’t dying! Shut up and let me think.”
A Cytherean walked across the field in the direction of the camp. The army began to stir. Their chattering sounded frantic and angry, though I couldn’t decipher anything coherent. Many grabbed their weapons and donned armor. The Cytherean procured a large horn from his side and placed it against his lips. The deafening blare shook the grounds, the sound so loud it was scarcely discernible through its echo.
The sky trembled and the sun seemed to fall. A gleaming ball smashed into the ground, dispersing rays of light, revealing a sword. The lone Cytherean pulled the hilt from the dirt and charged the army. Some invisible hand brushed away the incoming spears and arrows like flimsy toothpicks. The front line raised their shields as though faced with an entire army. The lone warrior leapt in the air, soaring over the massive group of Cythereans. He landed at their backs, directly behind their leader. As they all turned, he plunged his blade into Magnus.
“Look at this rabble huddled outside Vini like a swineherd!” he shouted. I recognized Gorgo’s voice. “Are you waiting for the flower prince’s command? Break the walls and raze the city. Take all that you can carry and more!”
The Cythereans charged the city gates. It shook and trembled but didn’t break, as though crafted from something stronger than stone and wood. Their new leader blew into his horn and shook the hills.
“It’s amazing,” Rufus said.
“I’m not going to stick around.”
“I’m staying.”
“It’s not safe.”
“Please, let me watch.”
“You want to get killed by a bunch of rampaging aliens? That’s your business. I’ve done my part. If that’s not enough, then too bad. I quit.”
“You’ve done more than your part. I’m absolving you of any commitment to my safety that you’ve seemed to take upon yourself. Leave me be and go find your friend. Good luck. For God’s sake, you deserve it.”
“Thanks,” I said, turning away. I took a few steps toward my destination, looked over my shoulder and saw that Rufus had disappeared.
