Into The Abyss (Demons of Astlan)

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Into The Abyss (Demons of Astlan) Page 3

by Langland, J.


  He had no idea how long he spent playing with them. It was so weird to have new appendages! It just felt completely bonkers! Like having a second set of arms or something. Hot damn! Something slapped against the back of his thigh. He twisted down and around to look at what had hit him.

  Holy fuck! A tail! Another freaking appendage! He had a tail! He reached behind to grab it and yelped in pain as his finger nails; or finger claws, he guessed, pinched his tail. With his right hand holding his tail he took a closer look at his left hand. Shit! His hands were unbelievably huge and gnarly and rather than normal finger nails, the ends of his fingers were shiny carbon black curved spikes that felt attached to his finger bones. The nails were probably nine inch long on average, quite thick and very sharp.

  They’d be great for picking his teeth Tom thought. He ran his tongue over his teeth! Shit, that was weird! Wait! Stop, one weirdness at a time, Tom thought. Tail first! He returned to looking at what he could see of his tail.

  It was attached, naturally, to his tail bone and felt about 8 inches in diameter as it existed at the top of his butt crack. It tapered down over about a five foot length to maybe two inches in diameter, before what appeared to be a spade like, boney, or rather, nail like, end point. The spade shaped nail was probably eight inches across and about the same length. If it were as sharp as his nails, it would hurt. He whipped his tail against his heel. Ack! Yes, that hurt.

  Hell. This was too much! He ran his tongue over his teeth again. His teeth were really long and really, really sharp, it was like a mouth full of fangs. There were a few molars that he could feel in back, but that was it. He reached up and grabbed a tooth in his mouth. Hell! That was a very sharp spike of a fang. The front two thirds of his mouth seemed to be full of nothing but spikey fangs! His tongue whipped against his finger. His eyes widened as he suddenly realized why his tongue had felt so weird at first; it was forked! He had a forked tongue.

  Tom shook his head and brought both hands up to feel his face. His mouth and nose protruded a bit from his cheek bones; that’s how he could have so many spiky fangs. His nose was right above his mouth, sort of like a dog’s snout, but not so pronounced. Feeling the rest of his head, he confirmed that the image he’d seen in the misty place was accurate. He was bald, had long pointy ears and a set of horns that could gore a bull. They felt like immobile parts of his skull and bracing his very thick neck; he couldn’t budge the horns or his head when he resisted.

  He tried to recall the image he’d seen. Assuming that was accurate, he had large cat like eyes and the horns were the same shiny black as his nails and the spade on the end of his tail. How tall was he? Based on what he could guesstimate and how big he’d felt in the room, he had to be well over ten feet tall. He stretched his wings; he had a wingspan of maybe twice his height? What twenty feet?

  Tom shook his head and realized he’d stopped breathing again. He really needed to stop forgetting to breathe. He shook his head. This was just insane. It was too much to process; he was in sensory overload. He closed his eyes to try and calm himself. He needed a moment to get his thoughts together, to make sense of this insanity.

  He didn’t get it.

  “What did I tell you? I felt the plop!” A high pitched voice squealed excitedly behind him.

  “Yes, yes, you did. You do have a good sense for these things. I’ve never denied that, dear fellow!” Another voice replied with a distinctly British accent.

  Tom whirled to confront the voices and nearly lost his balance. He grabbed at the stone wall beside him and heard the nastiest screeching noise, like fingernails on a chalkboard as his hand dug into the stone of the wall. Literally, he’d clawed his fingers into solid stone.

  There were two…two…somethings behind him. The one that was more human looking was wincing in apparent discomfort from the sound of his claws in the stone.

  The wincing, fellow, demon, creature? Was quite ugly. And little. Or rather, about half Tom’s height, so probably human sized. On better inspection, he actually seemed quite humanoid. He was, like Tom, naked; and he had very long prehensile feet, very long fingers, a tail not unlike Tom’s, bat wings, horns and red skin. Other than that he looked mostly human, ugly human, with sharp teeth, very sharp teeth. Oh, and he was wearing a monocle. That seemed odd.

  “Greetings, fellow comrade in eternal servitude!” The fellow shouted. “It appears you gave somebody a good fight, or maybe fright!” The little demon flew up to the ledge; Tom stepped back for him to land; only at the last minute did he realize it might not be a good idea to let a demon land on the ledge with him.

  The little demon landed and effortlessly stuck out a hand with a slight bow. “How do you do? Bogsworth’s the name; however the local chaps call me Boggy!” Tom shook the little demon’s hand being careful not to crush it.

  “Uh...Tom.” Tom responded.

  “So Uh Tom, you just get here?” Boggy asked. A loud buzzing sound came from above them.

  “You know he did! I told you the moment he popped up.” The shrill voice said angrily, or at least Tom thought it was angry. “You can smell the Mana just dripping off him! It’s like butta!”

  Tom did a double take; the shrill voice had suddenly changed in midstream to sound exactly like a yenta from Queens. He glanced up to see a very bizarre demon. This demon was sort of splotchy greenish and flying with his stomach to the ground; he had four arms and four legs, all mostly human looking; just a lot of them. He also had two sets of pectoral muscles, two sets of lats, and two sets of male genitals. Tom looked away quickly; he really didn’t want to explore this demon’s undercarriage. The demon also had a double set of wings, or at least Tom thought he did, they were moving very fast, like a hummingbird or something.

  Boggy just chuckled. “Yes, Tizzy, you did indeed; you are correct; as always.” He shook his head and waved at the little demon with a smile. “Tom, it is my pleasure to introduce my partner, Tisdale! Or Tizzy for short!”

  “Are you calling me short?” Tizzy asked waving what appeared to be a curved long stemmed old man’s pipe in his lower left hand. Boggy just rolled his eyes.

  “Partner? Are you married?” Tom asked.

  Boggy blinked a couple times trying to parse Tom’s question. Tisdale just burst out laughing and suddenly crashed into the side of the spire they were standing on and slid down to the ledge laughing.

  Boggy was looking quote perplexed. “Uhm, partner as in business partner, associate, best friend, bosom buddies, what all?”

  Tom winced, “Sorry, it’s just where I come from well…never mind…” He’d put his foot in it damn fast. It probably wasn’t a good idea to call a demon gay.

  Boggy twisted his head to stare at Tisdale. “What exactly are you cackling about?”

  “You. Tom apparently comes from a plane where people of the same sex can be married! He thought I was your wife!”

  “Dear lord!” Boggy exclaimed.

  “Sorry…I didn’t meant to…” Tom started to apologize; Tisdale started laughing some more.

  Boggy shook his head and smiled. “Never mind, dear boy. No offense here; I’m just a bit of a fuddy duddy. Where I came from, such a thing was unthinkable and made absolutely no sense. But, of course, being here, when it comes to sex, pretty much anything goes. I suppose if a demon wanted to get married they could, but it’s just not something we do.”

  Tizzy had climbed back to one set of feet and then launched himself back into the air with a buzz. His shape was a bit awkward to rest easily on the ledge. “So, Tom,” Tizzy asked as he rotated in mid-air to face Tom. “Do you like our little home away from not home?” He spread his hands to indicate their surroundings.

  “Uhm, nice, I guess.” He didn’t want to risk insulting anyone again.

  “Think so?” Tisdale asked. “I think it shits.”

  “Never mind him, he thinks everything ‘shits.’” Boggy told Tom. “Actually, I think it grows on one. You get used to the flames and the adventure…”

 
“And it beats the HELL out of the alternatives…” Tizzy cackled. He stuck his pipe in his mouth and wiggled his eyebrows in a weird leering sort of way.

  Boggy rolled his eyes again. Tim spoke up. “So where exactly is here?”

  Boggy paused and tilted his head “Well now, that’s a bit hard to say….

  “Basically it’s about two planes below Astlan,” Tizzy interjected.

  Boggy sighed. “Which does not tell you much if you don’t know where Astlan is, now does it.” He gave the hovering demon a glare.

  “But it does if you do.” Tizzy retorted.

  “Yes, but I bet Tom doesn’t know, does he?” Boggy looked inquiringly at Tom. Tom shook his head no. “See, I told you.” Boggy told Tisdale.

  Tizzy pouted. “Ok, got me there.”

  "Now, Tom, just exactly which plane are you from?" asked Boggy.

  "I don't know." Tom had no idea. He was, of course, familiar with the concepts of multiple planes of existence. He had read too many fantasy and science fiction novels not to be; nonetheless, the knowledge that there actually were such planes, at least in his drug-induced hallucination, was still a bit hard to handle, although it should have been obvious, since he wasn't on his own world. Obvious? About the only thing obvious was that he was on one serious ass trip!

  "Now that makes it difficult. What did you call your world?" Asked Boggy.

  "Earth."

  "Earth! It figures. Six out of ten worlds call their planet Earth," complained Tizzy. “Might as well call it Dirt!” The hovering demon twisted his head and frowned as if thinking hard, “Hmm, why don’t they call it Dirt? Why do we call the ground beneath our feet earth rather than dirt? I mean of course, some people do call it dirt, but when being prosaic they always say earth and not dirt? Earthenware for clay pots and such, not dirtware.” He removed his pipe and closed his eyes, tapping his skull with the stem of the pipe. “Hmm, and there are Earth Elementals but not Dirt Elementals, yet on the other hand there are Dirt Devils, but those aren’t actually devils, nor demons, nor actually living creatures per se as far as I know at least. Not that I think I’ve ever saw one but…’’

  “Ahem.” Boggy coughed, interrupting Tizzy’s stream of conscious external dialogue. Tizzy shut up and just smiled brightly at Boggy.

  "Never mind then, where did you live on this Earth, what was the major world power?"

  "I…lived in Harding, New Jersey; the United States was one of the major powers, along with China and I guess Russia or the former Soviet Union. But…”

  "But what?"

  "What does it matter to you? I mean, why would a demon be interested in that...I mean, I'm sorry but I doubt you've been there?"

  You haven't looked in a mirror lately have you?" asked Tizzy, laughing. "You ain't no Apollo yourself, you know."

  "Don't mind him, Tom. Of course, you wouldn't know. You see none of us are exactly demons, in the sense you mean."

  "There's only one sense, and we're demons, yep, that's what we're called and that's what we are," contradicted Tizzy. He stuck his pipe back in his mouth. The way he waved that thing around, there couldn’t be anything in it or it would have spilled out by this point.

  "Be quiet, Tizzy. He is, of course, sort of right. You see we are all demons, now, but we weren't always. Everyone here once looked different, most were human, but not all."

  "Not all, definitely not all, and some definitely not now," interrupted Tizzy.

  "Anyway, we've all been snatched one way or the other from our home worlds, and forced to serve in Astlan and live here. I'm sure this is your case, right?"

  "I guess; I really don't know what's going on," answered Tom.

  "Well, try and see if you can tell me what happened."

  Tom wasn’t sure he should trust this rather weird demon, but he certainly seemed a lot better than that Lenamare fellow. Plus he needed to talk to someone about this, to help make some sense of it.

  "Well, one moment I had been at a party that I really didn't want to be at, then I was smoking a joint my friend had given me. The next thing I know I am floating off in a bunch of colors sicker than ever. Then suddenly, I’m being assaulted by a bunch of goons trying to grab my soul or something, They keep chanting at me to submit to them. I tried to run, and when that didn't work, I tried to fight; when that didn't get me very far, I tried running again, but they caught me. I went through an awful lot of pain and then found myself on the floor of a stone room. Then these people threaten me, and dismiss me, and here I am on this rock looking like this, and here you come."

  "Yep, that sounds about right. You see, like I said, we've all got similar stories, and we all got snatched up into slavery." Boggy told Tom.

  "But why? Why do these people do this, and why do we have to look like this, and how do they do it?" Tom's head was full of a million questions.

  "Why, well…it's kind of like they don't know what they're doing.” Boggy explained. “They can, by means of their spells, reach out into the Astral Plane. Unfortunately, this kind of screws up their vision, so they don't seem capable of distinguishing anyone other than people from their own plane, or planes very similar to theirs as being people.

  “Everyone else they just see as a bunch of lights. From their history they interpret these lights as being demons, especially when considering the process by which they do this, it reinforces their beliefs. When they reach out and grab you and bring you to their world, it takes several people and a lot of willpower and a ton of Mana, magic energy. In the process, they mold the form you take in their world by their expectations of what they think you look like. In other words, they expect demons to have horns and tails and be hideous, so when we come onto their plane, that's the incarnation we are forced to take."

  "You mean, they thought I looked like this, so I do?"

  "Essentially. However, the party entering the plane also influences the form, so that for example, a complete alien, non-humanoid would manifest differently. They name us demons, so the form you get is their image of a demon, mixed with the image that the demonized person has of a demon. Thus alien demons, look like really weird demons, i.e. non-anthropomorphic demons."

  "Yeah," was all Tom could say.

  "I realize it's probably a bit much to take all at one time; but don't worry, you'll figure it out," Boggy consoled.

  "So, what exactly is the story…now that they've...well, caught me?"

  "Basically it's eternal slavery." Tizzy spoke up.

  "Eternal?"

  "Well, you see, we're not actual physical or corporeal beings anymore, basically just energy patterns, thus we can't really die." Boggy added.

  "Cept if were disrupted, destroyed or obliterated," interjected Tizzy.

  "OK, we can be killed by certain devices, spells and etcetera, but we won't die of old age," amended Boggy.

  "If I'm non-corporeal--without a body...where's my body at?" Tom asked, very suddenly afraid of the answer.

  "Well, in order to bind your spirit they had to sever the silver cord that connected you to your body. So your body is still on your home plane."

  "So, I can maybe get back to it?"

  "I'm afraid not, Tom. You see, when the soul is separated from the body, and the silver cord cut, the body dies," Boggy said sorrowfully, looking at Tom's confusion and fright with pity.

  "So I'm dead?"

  "No, not exactly, when you die your soul goes off somewhere, to regenerate, or to some sort of heaven or ceases or something; I don't know. In our case, our minds and spirits, our consciousness if you will, are still alive, our physical bodies just aren't."

  "And what's considering the state of our lives and our slavery, you might say were in a living hell," giggled Tizzy at his joke, as he mischievously let his eyes dance around looking at the flames.

  "Ignore him, Tom. Sure, this isn't the greatest way to live, but it doesn't have to be the worst. If you're lucky."

  "Lucky?"

  "Yes, if you get a master who's not too demanding or too happ
y inflicting pain. Pain, now that’s the rub! We are very hard to kill, but with their spells, the wizards don't have too much trouble inflicting pain on any demon under their command. That's how they maintain their mastery, by threatening us with excruciating pain and torture."

  Still stuck on Tizzy's analogy, and struck by Boggy's comment on torture, Tom said, "So there is some basis to the legends. I mean we're not physically alive, and we aren't where most lucky souls go, we get tortured, we look like devils and demons, and we do live in a place of fire."

  "Well, a lot of cultures do have similar mythos, especially the Astlanians, and the way they control us and perceive us does lend credence to those legends. However, it is really a self-perpetuating circle. We look like this and are treated like this because of Astlanian legends and religious beliefs, and our existing like this, of course, strengthens their belief in demons and hell and all that sort of thing. Where the beliefs come from in the first place, I have no idea."

  "If the shoe fits, wear it," interjected Tizzy. Pointing at him with the stem of his pipe.

  "Like he says, most give up questioning it and just go with the flow, do what's expected, and be a demon."

  "But the other stuff, damned souls and all. I mean, I realize this is a damnable situation, so to speak," he stated before Tizzy could interrupt with a similar type comment, "but what about the reason we're here, is it because of sinful or evil acts?"

  "Well that's a matter of personal opinion and belief, some would say yes; but me, no, I don't think so."

  That relieved Tom a little; he didn't like to think this had happened because of some evil act on his part, he really couldn't remember any. "Well, what about the other legends, demons being evil and enjoying evil acts, and just waiting for a wizard to goof up, so the demon can rend him horribly."

  “We call that a party!” Tizzy exclaimed. Tom’s eyes widened.

  "Well now, evil is a matter of perspective, generally speaking. However, just like the humans most of us once were, there are nice demons and not so nice demons. As far as rending wizards limb from limb, more than just the generally wicked demons would love to rip a wizard or two apart. After all, you try having your life interrupted, subjected to centuries of abject slavery, degradation, torture and pain, and tell me if you don't get just a bit pissed off and want revenge on those doing this to you."

 

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