Eater of Souls

by Erik Lynd

  And here I am, a demon, and I have some memories, but they are dulled and blurry, just out of reach. As for how I got summoned and forced into this pathetic shell, that memory is a complete blank.

  "Lucky for her she has me for protection. She had almost no money and wouldn't have lasted three days on the streets. Don't let the tattoos fool you, she is not as tough as she thinks. Got anything to drink in this place?"

  She caught him off guard with the question.

  "Sure, my father kept a well-stocked bar in here. Bourbon?"

  "Yes please," she said.

  Christopher poured both of them a drink, bourbon, neat because there was no ice in the bowl and he didn't feel like going to the kitchen. Besides, she was a demon trapped in a mortal body, he doubted she would mind. After getting her drink she went on.

  "She had enough money on her to stay in the scummy flophouse that first night and after that she would just have to figure it out. The yelling, the smells, the dirt that was everywhere, she hated that place. I felt right at home."

  "How do you know all this? Her lack of memory? Did she tell you?" Christopher asked.

  "We share the same mind. It's not really mind reading, but I see so much about her and remember so little about me."

  She looked at Christopher and for a moment the smirk was gone and the seductiveness left her eyes. "It may have just been Hell, but they are still my memories, my essence. I would like them back." Then the attitude returned. "The only sure memory I have is waking up in the middle of the night together. That and my name, Eris is mine, not hers."

  "And you, a demon, have no memories other than your victims?"

  "As I said I have memories, more than just my victims. Just not of how I got inside of her. I am the victim here also."

  Christopher was not entirely convinced of that. But this was the first time they had really talked. Eris had been almost a ghost since storming into his life. He found himself leaning close to her again. Something about her pulled him in, her beauty, maybe, but something else too. Unfortunately, their conversation was cut short. The phone rang and Christopher almost jumped out of his seat.

  "Jesus Christ," he said and went to the phone. "Who the Hell could be calling this late at night?"

  But he had a good idea who it was.

  "Hello Hamlin," Christopher said into the phone.

  "Kid, It's... how did you know it was me? Are you using some of that Hell magic on me?" asked Detective Hamlin on the other end.

  Christopher sighed. "No, I just don't have many friends who would call me at midnight. Come to think of it, I don't have many friends at all."

  "Don't get all sappy on me now kid. I need your help. There's been a murder, I think."

  "You think? In your line of work shouldn't you be more certain of things like that?" Christopher asked.

  "Yeah well, in my line of work we don't usually work with emissaries of Hell and super villains, but I feel I adapted fairly well all things considered."

  "You think the murder was related to an escaped dark soul?" Christopher asked.

  "Since you started flying from rooftop to rooftop and swinging a flaming sword, I don't know what to think about a lot of things, but this one is weird and I just want to rule out one of yours. I'll text you the address."

  "I'll try to help the best I can, but remember, this stuff is all just as new to me as you,” Christopher said. It felt like Christopher was doing a lot of trying to help lately, and not really succeeding. First Eris and now Hamlin need him.

  "Got it, just get down here as fast as you can," Hamlin said and hung up.

  "Eris, I have to cut this conversation short. Hamlin needs my help with something," Christopher said as he put away his phone and straightened up the papers on his desk. "But let’s not say anything to... her... about what we talked about. You know how fragile she is."

  Eris came over to him and he looked up, right into her bright blue eyes. Eyes that were filling with tears. Shit. "I’m not as fragile as you, and her, think."

  "I'm sorry Eris, I didn’t mean that. We can talk about this when I get back and I'll make another trip to the Library and see what I can dig up about demon possessions."

  "Great," she said wiping the tears from her checks. "Where are we going?"

  "We?"

  "Yes both... I mean, all three of us I guess," she said.

  "I’m going to a crime scene to help Hamlin out. It might have something to do with my, you know... anyway, it’s not safe."

  "I don't care. Like I said, I’m not that fragile. I can take care of myself. I am not letting you out of my sight. Besides, I... she has some... talents that might be of use."

  Christopher knew very, very little about women, having had only one girlfriend his entire twenty-one years of life on this planet, but the tone in her voice, the set of her feet, her crossed arms, even he could tell there was no way he was going to talk her out of it.

  "Okay, but you stay in the car," Christopher said.

  Eris just raised an eyebrow.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "What is she doing here?" Hamlin asked.

  He was standing on the sidewalk in front of a building with police caution tape stretched across the door and broken windows. He was dressed as usual in his perpetually rumpled gray suit, and his hair, never quite right, stuck up with a cowlick on his right side. And for some reason he never seemed to manage to shave closer than three days’ scruff. He would be the picture next to the definition of detective in the dictionary. He held a manila folder in his hand.

  "She wouldn't stay in the car," Christopher said.

  "Great. Last thing I need is two of you," Hamlin said.

  "Two of us?"

  "You know a demon, whatever you are, magic people or something."

  "I'm not a demon, I am a human with a squatter problem," Eris said.

  "Sure, whatever."

  "This the place?" Christopher asked nodding to the building.

  They were in a less than upper class neighborhood. Neon signs covered the windows, graffiti covered the brick walls in between and the corrugated security doors on the stores that were closed. There was a city smell here, like in any part of the city, the smell of steel, oil and gas, the stale odor of dust, but in this neighborhood there was more, the smell of rot, the stink of nearby dumpsters, stale beer from the broken bottles shattered in the alleyways.

  Christopher did not like it here, it was too close to where he had massacred a group of gang members when the power inside of him raged out of his control.

  "Yeah, let’s talk inside," Hamlin said and they followed him to the crime scene.

  A patrolman stood outside by the door with a clipboard in hand. He watched their approach with what looked like an amused expression on his face.

  Christopher hesitated. "Are there still cops or forensics looking over the place? They're not going to let a couple of civilians just walk on in are they?"

  "Most of that is done. The patrolmen are here until the decontamination team arrives to clean the place up. And normally no, we wouldn't let civilians on the scene. But then again you’re not civilians."

  "What are we?"

  "Psychics."

  "Psychics?"

  "Hello sir. I just need your um... specialists to sign the log before they go in," the patrolman said, handing Christopher a clipboard. He looked like he was fighting a smile.

  After Eris had signed—he had no idea what name she used—Christopher handed the clipboard back to him.

  "Getting any vibes yet? Figure out who the killer is yet?" the patrolman snickered.

  "That'll be enough Williams," Hamlin said with a growl.

  "Yes sir," he said and turned away but not without giving them one last amused glance.

  "Psychics? You told them we were psychics? Do you guys even do that? I thought it was a myth," Christopher asked.

  "It was all I could think of to get you in there. And yes, sometimes we do use psychics though not as much as we did in the ninet
ies. Back then I think some people in the department thought the X-Files was a documentary."

  "Says the detective to the 'magic people'," said Christopher.

  Hamlin glared at him.

  The inside of the store was an eclectic blend of cheap crap you'd find at most convenience stores, smoking paraphernalia, lighters, incense, candies, and the cheap stuff one might find at a flea market, like knives, katanas, and Asian religious items up against anime prop reproductions. In essence, it was a junk store.

  Dust covered many of the items, and Christopher's shoes stuck to the floor in spots. Despite the clutter and weapons, it felt like an empty and desperate place. A musty, metallic scent hung in the air, growing stronger the further they entered the place.

  "Phew, the smell," Eris said.

  Hamlin made his way over to the counter, and Christopher could see the source of the disturbing scent.

  The glass counter was shattered and covered in blood, making it impossible to see through. The walls and ceiling behind it were so drenched in red it looked as though that had been the original color and someone had just dappled with spots of white. The trinkets and shelves surrounding the counter were splattered with the same blood. To Christopher it looked as though somebody behind the counter had exploded.

  "Ohmygod," Eris said and turned away from the scene.

  "What the Hell happened here?" Christopher asked, involuntarily covering his nose with his hand. The smell had suddenly become unbearable.

  "That's what we’re trying to figure out," Hamlin said. "You think it's bad now, you should have seen it when we arrived. Poor fucker was in pieces all over the place. Had to use multiple bags to get his remains to the morgue. Looked like a pack of wild dogs got to him."

  "A pack of wild dogs in the city?" Eris asked.

  "No, that’s just it. Strays sure, but nothing that could do what we saw here. Besides, the medical examiner said that after a preliminary review of the wounds, it look like a pack of grizzlies were running with those dogs. Obviously, we don't have bears in the city."

  Hamlin handed Christopher the manila folder. "Careful, these are crime scene photos, pretty high on the gruesome meter."

  "I've cut people in half, unfortunately, so I’m not sure there’s much that can shock me," Christopher said. He was wrong.

  He opened the folder and his stomach did a somersault. The photos were a mess, he could barely make out the victim had been human. The only clue was the occasional toe or finger. This man had been torn apart and his guts dug through.

  "Whatever or whoever it was, the medical examiner said it ate a lot of the guy, but also dug into him as though looking for something."

  "Maybe it was looking for a particular organ it wanted?" Christopher couldn't believe they were having this conversation.

  "M.E. said he would have to do a more extensive examination, but it appeared that nothing was missing. He said that there was at least part of every major organ left." Even Hamlin turned a little green at that. "Basically, it tore him to pieces with tooth and claw."

  Christopher saw Eris shudder out of the corner of his eyes.

  "Give me that," she said and snatched the folder from him. He could see the black eyes of Dark Eris looking over the photos without a trace of discomfort.

  "The really disturbing thing is that this guy might not be the only victim," Hamlin said.

  "There are more bodies?" Christopher asked.

  "Yeah. Last night a homeless guy, or at least what was left of him, was found in an alley close to here. His wounds were similar to this. When they found him it was written up to a stray dog. He was just a homeless guy, so nobody wanted to look any deeper," Hamlin said. "Same would have happened with this guy too, but two big attacks like that in the same area and after what I experienced a couple of weeks ago…let’s just say I wanted to look a little deeper."

  Christopher nodded. He knew what Hamlin wanted. Why he had asked him here. He wanted Christopher to use the power he had to see if there was any residual evil left by a dark soul. But Christopher didn’t want to do it. He had been spending the last couple weeks doing everything he could to ignore the power inside him. It was a horrible, horrible power and every day the desire, the aching need, to pick up the Book and Weapon grew. He had avoided the Weapon all together and had stayed away from the Library, despite what he had told Eris.

  The burden was immense, and he needed time to figure it all out, time the Book and Weapon did not want to give him.

  "Hellhound," Dark Eris said.

  "Excuse me," said Hamlin.

  "It sort of looks like what a hellhound does to its victims," she said.

  Hamlin looked at him. "Is she good girl or bad girl right now?"

  "Bad…for the moment anyway," Christopher said.

  She leaned over and took a big whiff of the blood on the counter.

  For a horrifying moment Christopher thought she was going to lick it. Hamlin must have thought the same because he said, "Be careful to not touch anything, it’s still a crime scene. So, is a hellhound some kind of large dog?"

  She seemed to ignore him as she hovered over the blood, but she didn't lick it. "No, not a dog. Hellhounds aren't really hounds, they are a concept. Few things in Hell are recognizable as anything you would see on earth. They are entities that can track and consume a mortal's soul."

  "But this was obviously done by some sort of animal-like creature—a dog or bear. What would a hellhound look like here?"

  Dark Eris shrugged, "They have no form unless given one. But this is what they do, tear flesh apart to get to the soul."

  "Seems inefficient and messy," Christopher said.

  "Well, Hell likes to be messy sometimes," she said, a smirk returning to her face.

  "So you think a hellhound, some sort of evil entity, did this?" Hamlin asked.

  "Well it is a possibility, but there hasn't been one on earth in over a thousand years. They have their place in Hell, but here, well, the days of magic and miracles are long gone."

  "Says the magic girl to the detective," Hamlin said.

  "Perhaps we should ask the hunter here," she said running her finger up Christopher's arm. "It was the Beast that controlled these hellhounds. It was said they were his creation."

  He pulled his arm away. "Maybe my predecessor knew something about all this, but that died with him."

  "Well, maybe you can ask that Librarian friend of yours," Hamlin said.

  "Why does everybody want me to ask that guy everything? In my experience he knows very little about the stuff I ask him. But sure I'll ask,” Christopher said.

  "Meanwhile can you, you know, sniff around and see if we can eliminate the theory that this was done by a dark soul?"

  Christopher nodded reluctantly. He supposed he had to do it. Even that damn Librarian had told him he had no choice but to learn and embrace his power. By not using it, he would go mad. He thought he could already feel his sanity on edge, if he did welcome it he would go mad simply from all the death and destruction he would cause.

  "We're here to help kid, you know that right?" Hamlin said.

  Christopher nodded, somehow that was reassuring. Tentatively he reached out with his will and touched the seed of Hell inside of him.

  Instantly, the shadows from the corners of the room darkened and wrapped around him, forming his now familiar long jacket and hood. It cloaked his identity although there was no one in the room he had to hide from, it had become habit.

  "That still freaks the shit out of me." He heard Hamlin say. Followed by Dark Eris saying, "I think it's kind of sexy."

  He shifted his senses and the souls of his two friends were visible. The dirty gray, but mostly good one of Hamlin, and the much purer soul of Eris sharing the same space as the black, oozing soul of Dark Eris. Instantly, the power sprung up inside of him eager, hungry to claim souls. He could feel it rage through him, and he squeezed his eyes shut to focus on containing it.

  His hands itched to take the weapon, currently i
n its pocketknife form, from his pocket and run through the city scything through people, casting them down to Hell. And a part of him that wasn't the power, he could admit that, wanted to as well. Destroying people, sending them to eternal punishment? How like a god. It was a heady feeling, a drug that was slowly building to an addiction.

  But not at the moment. He held it in check. He wondered if his friends knew how close they were to a time bomb.

  He walked around the room, but stuck close to the counter where real violence had happened. He reached out with his new sense. He was a little excited, this was the first time he was really using his abilities in the capacity as a hunter, their intended purpose.

  At first he felt nothing except the subtly shifting smell and vibrancy of his friend’s souls. Then slowly he began to detect a different feeling, a different scent. The faint, putrid scent of a dark soul. When he identified it, the scent became clearer. It congregated around the scene of the massacre like the lingering scent of a woman wearing too much perfume after she leaves a room.

  It wasn't until he walked behind the counter that he made a discovery.

  "There were two of them," he said.

  "Two dark souls?" Hamlin asked.

  "Yes, I think so."

  Christopher moved his hands through the oily residue left floating through the air. There were two distinct souls. Both evil, both leaving a rancid touch on him and a sour taste in his mouth, but each distinct.

  "One was here killing the man, but the other... the other stood apart as though watching," Christopher said and then looked at Hamlin, "Or supervising."

  "Two working together? That can't be good," Hamlin said.

  "No, it’s hard enough trying to figure out how to track them down one by one. If they did start to team up..." Christopher left the rest unsaid. He was still too new to understand how bad it could be, but he was certain it couldn't be a good thing.

  "Okay, that settles it. I am going to back away from this case, let it get filed as a wild dog attack or some nonsense. This is no longer the department’s problem, it's ours," Hamlin said.