by M. K. Gibson
Oh . . oh, that was nice. I damn near applauded. Grimskull had lulled Hawker and Zachariah into his own version of the Muhammad Ali rope-a-dope. If this weren’t bad for me, I would have been laughing.
I mean, let’s face it—that was some excellent villainy right there.
“You have tried. You have failed. In the end, Grimskull stands supreme,” Grimskull said, his left hand grasping his amulet while his right hand prepared the Curse of Unmaking. He pointed at his brother and son. “Goodbye, fools.”
Damn! We’d come too far to lose to this buffoon! I scanned the room, looking for something, anything to turn the tide.
“Do you have any ideas?” I asked Carina’s corpse.
And damned if she didn’t.
Her broken battle staff was still in her throat, covered in her blood.
The blood of an innocent.
“Wren, stop him!” I commanded as I pulled the staff from Carina’s throat.
“Vammar’s will be done!” Wren screamed as he hurled his battle hammer in a side-arm motion. The weighted projectile spun horizontally, scant inches above the ground. The weapon glowed in a blue-red nimbus as it struck Grimskull’s shins, breaking them and dropping the tyrant flat on his face as the Curse of Unmaking went wide, missing Hawker and Zachariah.
“Now!” I screamed.
What happened next seemed to happen in glorious movie magic, slow motion.
I threw the weapon as well as I could with my wounded arm. The broken staff tumbled end-over-end. Hawker ran and leaped for the weapon while Zachariah’s magic gave the young warrior a boost into the air. Snatching the weapon in midair, Hawker brought it over his head, pointing the blood-covered tip downward.
Grimskull sat up to his knees just as Hawker came slamming down on top of him, driving the weapon directly into the Amulet of the Ember Soul. The amulet shattered into thousands of shards.
The air of the room immediately turned dark. Purple and black smoke erupted from every shadow. Demonic script glowed violet along the floors and what was left of the walls. A large nine-pointed star in a circle flared into being beneath the baron while spectral flames shone with a terrible blaze. Grimskull screamed as the fires burned him and him alone. Skeletal claws burst forth from the nine-pointed star, gripping the baron’s legs, holding him in place to continue his agonizing immolation.
A screeching sound echoed through the hall, overpowering the screams of Grimskull. The sound was the heralds of the Never Realm, announcing the coming of one of the Infernal Exalted.
Monstrous red and black muscular arms burst forth from the burning star. The arms heaved and pulled the rest of their master forward as Y’ollgorath, Exalted One from the seventh plane of the Never Realm, peered into this realm with his five yellow eyes.
Those eyes scanned the room until they saw me. The demon smiled.
“Hey there Jackson! Long time!”
“Hey there, Y’olly.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Where I Reconnect with an Old Ally and Discover a New Enemy
Y’ollgorath and I went way back. He was something of a friend. Well, as much of a friend as one could be with a demon. Let’s call him a longtime business associate of mine. He was my primary liaison between my realm and the Never Realm. Each time I met a would-be villain who was seeking power and cared little for the price, I always used Y’allgorath.
He was an incredibly devious—and dangerous—ally.
He also had something of beer gut. So when he tried pulling himself the rest of the way out of the nine-pointed star portal, he got stuck.
“A little help here? Jackson, could you give me a hand?”
I started applauding.
“Oh ha ha. Fine,” Y’ollgorath said as he heaved and pulled his corpulent form the rest of the way free.
The naked Y’ollgorath stood an impressive fifteen feet tall on his reverse-jointed legs. His barbed, serpentine tail swished back and forth while his black wings stretched the reddish, translucent membranes to their full width. Y’ollgorath’s horns were black and smooth, curling like a ram’s. His head was bald and his mouth opened to reveal razor-sharp teeth and a forked snake’s tongue.
As he stretched, his massive belly shook and rumbled like that of a demonic Santa Claus. Well, a Santa who liked flashing his red, barbed penis at everyone.
“Y’olly, I thought you were going to go on a diet?”
“I tried the low-carb thing. But come on. I’m a demon from the Never Realm. The whole place is sugar and carbs. Well, for us at least. But not for you, is it, little Viktor?” Y’ollgorath said as he smiled down on the still-screaming Grimskull.
“Slick move breaking the amulet,” the demon said to Hawker.
Hawker looked at me. His face read “What the fuck?!” I nodded to him and gestured to Y’ollgorath. “Go on. You may speak to him. It would be rude not to. He cannot do anything to you without your permission. Just be careful what you say.”
“Thank you?” Hawker said to the demon, who in turn nodded.
“You are very welcome. OK, I am going to drag this sack of flesh back home and do unspeakable things to, in, and on him. Unless anyone would like to trade his soul for theirs? It is part of the rules. Any takers?”
Whether it was a demon’s presence, his candor, his cordiality, or that he was giant and naked, the room was shocked into silence.
“No, nobody?” Y’ollgorath asked. “How about trading your immortal soul for near limitless power? We have new rules and terms I think most of you would find amenable.”
“Y’olly, come on. No shop talk. You claimed your soul,” I said.
“Come on, like you don’t use every opportunity to do a little shop talk. It’s called networking,” the demon said, crossing his arms.
“Fair enough. But not right now. We just had our final confrontation. So, a little peace, please.”
The demon looked me up and down. “I’ll say you all did. You’re looking in a bad way, Jackson,” Y’ollgorath noted. “Want a little healing? Nearly free of charge.”
“I’ll live.”
Y’ollgorath shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll be seeing you all. Very soon.” The demon smiled.
“I have a request,” Hawker said before the demon returned through the portal with Grimskull, his claimed prize, in tow.
“Oh really?” Y’ollgorath paused. “Do tell. What can this humble servant do for you, young master Kyle?”
The demon knew Hawker’s name? That was never good. Since the Never Realm was one of the very few planes of existence that tangentially touched all others, it meant the demons there could view any and all things. Y’ollgorath had taken notice of Hawker. Because of his familial lineage, or another reason?
“I want you to make him suffer,” Hawker said.
“Trust me, mortal, he will,” Y’ollgorath confirmed.
“No.” Hawker shook his head. “I want him to suffer more than any mortal ever has.”
Hawker’s turn towards a darker path was not unexpected. But I was sure he’d justified his request in his mind. With the deaths of his family and village, he most likely thought he was seeking righteous vengeance.
All corruptible heroes do.
I threw Y’ollgorath a nod and the demon winked back.
“You know what, kid? For you, I’ll make sure of it personally. Free of charge. No strings attached.”
“Thank you,” Hawker said, bowing his head.
“Unless there are any other offers or deals I can make, I’ll be on my way,” Y’ollgorath said.
As he began his descent into the nine-star portal, Y’ollgorath waved goodbye, then grabbed Grimskull by his leg. “Tell me baron, have you ever had you urethra violently probed by a barbed demon penis? I believe it’s called ‘docking,’ but with a few infernal twists. You’re going to love it. Well, you won’t, but I will!”
As the demon and his heralds departed, the inky smoke dissipated and the room returned to normal.
“You know the mo
st interesting people,” Zachariah said, and I nodded in agreement.
“So, that’s it? It’s over?” Hawker asked.
“Something of a letdown, isn’t it?” I said as I limped over to Wren and the still-unconscious Lydia.
That was the thing with quests. Once they were over, so was a person’s sense of purpose. Like a soldier after war, or prisoner released back into freedom.
“What are we going to do now?” Hawker asked.
“Whatever you want,” I said. “I promised Zachariah the throne of the Eastern Empire. It was his by birthright. And he promised to rule the empire with a benevolent guiding hand. I’m sure he will need help.”
“Will you truly rule with peace and kindness . . . uncle?” Hawker asked Zachariah.
The old mentor looked his young apprentice and nephew in his eyes and lied through his teeth.
“I am not, my brother. I wish you had learned of our relationship a different way, Kyle. But I will make this land, and that of the late Countess Skullgrim’s Western Empire, into a unified kingdom that will bring peace and prosperity to all who dwell within. If you want to be part of that, then there is a place by my side.”
Damn. That was an excellent line of bullshit. The best lies always were.
“I will,” Hawker said.
Deep down, I think the kid knew his uncle was a villain. And deep down, Hawker knew one day he would be as well. But like I said, those without purpose feel lost. That’s why some retired soldiers become mercenaries and soldiers of fortune. And why this young man would stand by his uncle’s side to enslave the land under the guise of unification.
“What about you, Wren?” Hawker said. “Would you join us?”
“No,” the big man said. He finished attending to Lydia, making her sleeping form as comfortable as possible.
“Why?”
“This place is not for me. Too many bad memories. I will walk the land and go where Vammar directs me. There are people out there who need help. And I will find them, and help them.”
“But we’re going to unify the kingdoms. We are going to need help.”
Wren shook his head. “So you say. But right now there is a power vacuum. Too many warlords and tyrants died today. When that happens, the little people suffer as new would-be conquerors rise. I will be there for them. Not you.”
“What are you saying?” Hawker asked Wren, his tone taking a serious edge.
Wren held his hammer a moment and considered the head of the weapon. He tapped it several times in the palm of his hand. “Only that power corrupts. Even those who set out to do good oftentimes hurt the weak they claim they are helping.”
Wren took a breath, then looked up at Hawker. “If that day comes, should that day come, then you and I will be on opposite sides.”
Hawker narrowed his eyes. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
“I wish you luck,” Wren said, extending his hand. Hawker took it in his own. The two men shared a moment.
Ah, bromance.
“Well, isn’t this nice. Hail the conquering heroes,” a voice rang out. Magnified and ominous. Enhanced by godly power.
Randy’s?
I looked up and to the balcony railing where a section of wall had slid away, revealing a secret passage. Randy stepped forth, his eyes glowing a blazing orange and white. A vulpine grin was etched into his face.
Finally, a secret passage. And Randy got to use it.
Fate hates me.
Randy dove off the balcony in a perfect swan dive, rolled in midair, and landed on his feet. A ripple of orange power blasted outwards as he did, knocking us all to the ground. With my existing injuries, I crumpled like paper. The others did not fare much better.
I saw Khasil and Valliar watching the scenario play out from their seats in the opposite balcony.
Randy followed my eye line and smirked. Raising his hands, Randy released another blast of energy at the two gods. The beams hit them both, binding them in bands of power.
Randy then turned his attention to me. He smiled as he knelt down beside me.
“Hello, Uncle. It’s time to die.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Where I Am Dumbstruck
Randy.
A secret villain genius.
I am going to need a moment to process this.
In the meantime, do me a favor. Look back on this tale and see if I missed something I should have seen.
Seriously, go ahead. I’ll wait.
Fucking Randy.
That was supposed to be my secret passage.
Fuck.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Where I Witness Evil and Receive a Lecture
“You should see yourself, Uncle Jackson. The look on your face is priceless. Confused is an exceptional expression for you. It highlights your hubris and your foolish belief that you control all villainy.”
What . . . the . . . fuck?
“Still not grasping everything, I see. Fine. I will use smaller words.”
“Jackson!” Hawker screamed. The warrior ran headfirst towards Randy, still gripping Carina’s broken battle staff. Randy gazed upon Hawker as if he were bored. With a slight gesture, Randy unleashed a wave of power that slammed Hawker against the nearby wall. Stone and debris the size of small boulders fell on the collapsed Hawker.
Randy spotted Wren trying to move in behind him. Randy’s wicked smile grew even wider. He gestured at the back of the room and released another wave of power.
Carina’s body began to rise. The corpse stood awkwardly on newly empowered legs. Her body moved jerkily towards Wren, still bearing the broken blades that had killed her.
“Vammar, help me,” Wren whispered.
The walking dead shrieked and charged the Templar. Wren raised his shield as Carina’s corpse slammed into him. With her magically augmented strength, Carina gripped Wren and picked him up. She ran, carrying them both towards the open wall. At the last moment, Wren threw his legs down, digging in and slowing them both.
It was a battle of wills. A battle of strength. A battle of gods. Randy’s power pitted against Vammar’s.
Wren’s legs buckled.
Carina and Wren fell out the opening to courtyard below.
Randy next set his gaze on Zachariah, who threw his hands in the air. “I’m not a threat! All hail the new lord.”
“Smart,” Randy said.
“Thank you.”
“Smart people concern me. They rarely accept the fact they are being mastered,” Randy said.
Randy held out both his hands and the orange-white energy coalesced around his hands once more. Randy contorted his hands as if he were crushing a beer can.
Zachariah’s body bent and broke inward. His bones snapped with audible pops. His skin ripped open as splintered bone and blood spewed forth.
Zachariah screamed. He screamed until there was no air left in his body.
Zachariah would not scream again, as his twisted body collapsed, crushing his lungs. In a final gesture, Randy suddenly pulled his hands apart and Zachariah’s body was simply torn in half. Each hunk of flesh was tossed to either side of the hall. Randy was like a child torturing animals out of boredom. Each act was nothing more than a display of cruelty.
“Now, where is that chubby mistress of yours?” Randy asked.
Lydia was lying closer to the great hall’s main doors. The blast from Randy’s entrance must have blown her further away. She remained unmoving.
“Hmm,” Randy said, considering whether or not to waste the power.
“How?” I asked.
“Hmm?” Randy said bringing his attention back to me. “Oh, how am I able to do things you cannot? How I am able to touch those from another realm who are not directly threatening me? How I can modify what is not mine? How I can bind two gods?”
“Yes.”
“Come on, Uncle Jackson. Use that brain you are so proud of.”
This new Randy was vile and wicked. He wasn’t just a villain; he was evil. And watchin
g his astonishingly evil acts had blinded me to the answer I already knew.
“You’re a demigod,” I sighed, shaking my head. “That’s why you wanted your mother alive. So your power would remain intact.”
“Bravo, Uncle,” Randy said. “Demigods don’t play by the same rules as the rest of you deity types. For those who are daring enough to seize power, then there really isn’t anything that can stop us. If we’re smart.”
Randy sat down next to me, as if we were longtime drinking buddies. The little bastard had the audacity to put his arm around me. Randy surveyed the destruction of the great hall and had a satisfied look on his face. He even reached into my belt pouch and took out one of my cigarettes and lit it.
“See, the trick was playing the long game. Once I learned about the family secret from Mom, I knew I wanted in. She always talked so poorly about you. Yet the moronic cow kept going back to you for more money whenever she ran out. Do you want to know a little secret, Uncle Jack?”
“Must you talk?”
“Good one, Uncle,” Randy said, shaking me with a good-natured hug hard enough to break bones. “I’m the reason we were always out of money. Sure, she spent a lot drinking, buying useless things. All the things uneducated trash do with their money instead of saving, investing, and spending wisely. But whenever she went out, I was stealing it. Hiding large sums here and there in various bank accounts I set up. She, of course, assumed she spent it. Woman never was good with money. But the reason I stole it was so that she would go back to you, hat in hand, asking for more. And it was on those trips I got to come to your little dimension. I learned more and more about you and the rules of realms.”
I didn’t know what to say. I looked at him, smoking my cigarette and speaking eloquently. Here, in this realm, among destruction and blood, I was being lectured on villainy.
