by Noah Layton
The ground had fallen away completely into an unseen abyss beneath the earth, and from the portal a hand emerged.
Because The Purple Man had already completed the ritual.
He was just waiting to lure is in. He had to be sure.
Scarlett had been the bait.
And here we were.
The hand was gigantic and clawed, twice the size of anything that could be called human. The skin was scattered with greyed scales, the nails sharpened and cutting into the crevice edge as it dragged itself up from the depths of the Third Circle, the portal finally open.
I stood before my witches, watching the creature drag itself up with another clawed hand. A head appeared, hairless and scabbed, splotched with green streaks. Its eyes were dead and blackened, pools of emptiness that stared across at us as its hulking form, clothed in rags that barely covered its body, came to stand at the edge of the portal, staring back at us.
All it did was stand there, head lowered, until bones cracked and splintered from its form and its head rose to look back at us, a psychotic, sadistic smile stamped across its face.
‘It’s good to see you again…’ He growled. ‘The ladies of my coven…’
The Devil had said something similar, but for some reason I was far more terrified of this figure.
‘Rorian…’ I breathed, staring back at him. Only twenty yards stood between us, but in the maelstrom’s eye we could hear each other just fine.
‘Rorian…’ He repeated. ‘Rorian… I knew that name once, some time ago. I was known by it, revered by it. But being revered only goes so far… And who are you, mortal? I see the position of a warlock, but you are nothing but a pathetic little fucker from the human world.’
I gritted my teeth. ‘My name is Tom Harrick, and I’m the warlock of this coven.’
I was committed to the words, committed to keeping my witches safe – and Rorian did nothing but laugh in my face.
‘So that’s how it is?’ He sniggered. ‘You know what they did to me, don’t you? Of course you do… I’m sure they’ve told you all about me. Don’t you ever worry that they’ll kick you into hell one day?’
‘I’m not planning on opening a portal to hell any time soon,’ I said, ‘So I’m gonna go ahead and say no, that’s never crossed my mind.’
He let out another cackling laugh.
‘You dumb bitches were fools to cross me,’ he continued, his whole body rising and falling with every heaving, crackling breath that he took. ‘Together we could have used the spoils of hell to control this world. Instead… Instead I ended up down there, alone. That place… Do you know what it does to you? Do you know what it turns you into?’
None of us had to say anything. The answer was standing right in front of us.
‘Well…’ He continued, a growl leaving his throat. ‘How about now? You still have a choice ladies. You can leave behind this pathetic excuse for a man and join me, and together we can end your bastardised covens and rule this world as the supreme witches and leading warlock… Or you can get in my way for a few minutes before I proceed with that plan anyway. What’s it gonna be?’
I could feel the bile rising in my throat at Rorian’s words. Even if I was terrified to face him, deep down I knew that he had rubbed it in my face. He had years of experience on me, and now I was supposed to face off against him. But that wasn’t the part that scared me most.
I looked at my staff, still feeling the power surging steadily from it into my body, before looking around at the girls.
That second before I turned to see their faces was one of the longest of my entire life. I didn’t know what I expected to see. I had shared everything with these girls, these witches over the last few days, and I had been closer with them than I had been with anybody in my entire life, had risked my neck and gotten into more fights and dangerous situations than I could even begin to count.
Because I was so worried about losing them, I wondered if they would go running back to their old master, the one who they had kicked into the Third Circle. It was a stupid thought, but for a flash of a moment I had never felt more insulted, more out of my depth, more unequipped for a situation.
But as I turned to look at Lois, Brianna and Scarlett, that entire feeling turned on its head.
They were all looking at me with expressions that were both comforting and comfortable, all looking to me for leadership. Because Rorian wasn’t their master anymore.
I was. And they weren’t just any witches. They were my witches.
‘I’ll speak on behalf of my witches,’ I said, turning back to face Rorian with a hardened look and a tight grasp on my staff. ‘Go fuck yourself.’
Rorian’s face crumpled into one of anger and hatred, his nostrils flaring and his eyes focusing in on me before the slightest of sardonic smirks adorned the edges of his mouth, his jagged teeth bearing.
‘No matter,’ he shrugged, grunting. ‘This is a fight so juvenile that it would be below me to even raise a hand. I’ll leave it down to my minions. They’ve been dying to meet your kind…’
The whirring and cracking that had been emitting from beyond the threshold of the portal suddenly gave way to screaming and groaning, which in turn descended into the pained sounds of animals. Clawed hands emerged from the portal, not as large as Rorian’s but clutching the ground with the same horror and anger, if not even more.
They emerged from all sides, creature upon distorted creature, all of them staggering up and moving to flank Rorian’s sides, his own private army. They may have grunted and moaned as pained animals, but as they emerged into the grey light of the maelstrom it became instantly obvious that they weren’t animals at all.
They were humans. Twisted, clawing humans that had been transformed and chipped away at in hell until they had turned into these… Creatures.
What had Scarlett said? Only the worst of the worst get handed over to the underworld. The rapists, the molesters, the murderers and the torturers, handed over to endure the crimes that they have committed against others.
And now we were staring at them, more than a hundred of them, all thirsty to serve their master in killing us without mercy.
‘Oh, shit…’ Brianna muttered. ‘Guys… Any suggestions?’
‘Actually… No,’ Scarlett said, laughing at the pure nightmarish nature of the fight that lay ahead of us.
‘Your call, master,’ Lois said.
I grasped my staff tightly, locking eyes with Rorian as his minions looked to him for guidance.
We were two Generals, playing a game of chicken for who would attack first.
‘Nothing changes,’ I said resolutely, continuing to stare him down. ‘Lois and Scarlett, take the minions. Brianna, you’re with me taking on the head-asshole. Air-support will help.’
‘Are you worried?’ Brianna asked.
‘Maybe,’ I said, ‘but worrying never got me anywhere in my life before.’
‘KILL THEM ALL!!!’
Rorian’s words signalled the beginning of the battle.
His creatures stampeded towards us, throwing themselves in our direction recklessly like zombies.
And our strategy was decided on in seconds.
Lois and Scarlett readied their wands, whirling them above their heads and casting swathes of fire, attracting the creatures in their direction.
They could handle themselves – it was Brianna and I who had the lion’s share.
In a mess of thunder and fire cast from our wands, we cut down the creatures still in our path. I gritted my teeth hard, sweeping aside the final few with my staff, spearing the last of them that barred our way through the face with the bottom of my weapon, before approaching Rorian with Brianna at my side.
He grinned sardonically, before his yellowed, jagged teeth opened wide and he let out a roaring, sadistic laugh.
‘You’re a brave young man,’ he called over to me. ‘Such a pity that your bravery is so misguided.’
I almost failed to hear the final line – the
silence within the eye of the storm vanished, sharply replaced by that same roaring gale of wind that had confronted us outside of the stadium.
Suddenly all three of us – myself, Brianna and Rorian – were lifted from the ground, the wind whipping us into the air without mercy.
The maelstrom had descended upon the stadium, a self-contained tornado above the pit of the Third Circle.
Where the warrior’s fight to stay beyond the edge.
Down below, just as the grey torrents of circling wind trapped us within, I caught sight of Scarlett and Lois. They were fighting ferociously against the demons back on the ground, beyond the edge of the bases and safe from the power of the storm, but they were fast becoming overwhelmed.
Brianna was only a few yards from me, her wings outstretching and fighting against the torrents of explosive wind. She could command it, but she had seen the girls below just as I had.
She turned back to me as I drifted backwards through the maelstrom, reaching out a hand and yelling to her.
‘GO!’
She gave me a single nod before turning, hurling herself forward on her wings and breaking through the wall of wind that encircled us. Moments after she did the force of our cage picked up even more, and I and my enemy were well and truly trapped.
We circled each other, not in some warlike sparring fashion during the training that I had experienced with Lois back in the safety of the coven, but under the control of the storm. It was beyond anybody’s control now.
We were at the mercy of the forces of hell, both of us.
Higher and higher we rose, our arena growing smaller at the peak to just a few yards. I planned my attack, trying to time my spell perfectly to strike Rorian.
But what good would it do?
Rorian saw his opening before me, lunging forwards with his claws outstretched. With fractions of a moment to spare as I attempted to cast my spell, but it was too late; Rorian’s claws struck my chest, their razor sharpness tearing through the skin over my heart with a feral roar.
I yelled out in pain, which quickly converted to a furious anger as I cast my spell. This time it was the telekinetic blast that Lois had taught me, the force exploding against Rorian’s shoulder. We flew apart with the force as I felt the warm rush of blood down my chest. My enemy’s claws had ripped straight through my jacket, the blood soaking through like a broken faucet.
But I had scored a hit… Or so I thought.
Looking to Rorian on the other side of our spinning cage, I saw the scales on his shoulder peeling back awfully. He reached to it, smiling before grabbing it in his hand and ripping it from his shoulder, along with some of his flesh. A hyena laugh released from his lungs, and he looked up to me.
‘I’ve gone without magic since I ended up in that pit,’ he chuckled. ‘Claws like this used to rip at me every day. Hardly any blood left in my veins… But now these claws are mine – and soon that staff of yours will be mine too, back in the hands of the rightful master!’
On the back of those final words he lunged at me again, this time not to scratch at my body but to pull the staff from my grasp.
My staff was the only thing between us – Rorian fought to drag it from my hands while I sought to drag it back from him as we spun through the air madly.
I had no idea how far from the ground we were. Nothing else existed beyond our skirmish.
‘I will slaughter you and take my whores back!’
Rorian’s grating, sadistic voice cackled on the wind. We glared at each other, my face taking on the same maddening expression my enemy bore.
Pure fury coursed through my body… And that was when it happened. My hands felt as if they were fused to the staff.
I wasn’t fighting for control of it. It had me in its grip. Rorian was the one holding on for his life, desperate to take back this symbol of power over the coven.
But it wasn’t his weapon to wield. I finally understood.
Looking into the blue light of the gemstone embedded into the head of the staff, I felt my vision blur.
The wind, the raging screams of Rorian – everything suddenly silenced, and despite the fact that I was floating above a gateway to hell, grappling with my enemy fiercely, a strange calm swept over me.
I closed my eyes, taking a single breath, and when I reopened them my vision had been tainted with the same shade of blue that emanated from the gemstone.
Rorian’s expression changed in an instant, taking on a look of terror and confusion.
And suddenly I knew what to do.
I gripped the staff tightly, feeling the energy course through my body and into the wood as I became one with my weapon. Surges of fire and electricity wrapped themselves around Rorian’s scaled body. The tighter I held on, the fiercer the surges became.
Rorian’s face contorted and twisted, his desperation growing until he could take no more. He screamed out in pain and released the staff.
I drew it back to the side before launching it straight back at Rorian, striking him in the side of the head with the greatest connection of my life, a bat to the ball. The gemstone held steady, crunching sharply into his cheek and sending him flailing through the air.
I wasn’t being thrown about by the storm anywhere. I was in control of my path – and I knew what I was going to do.
Looking to the sky, I raised the staff and flew upwards through the tornado, rising high before slowing and looking back down. Rorian was caught in a perpetual fall, his hands yearning in my direction desperately, half out of rage and half out of some pathetic hope that I would save him.
But it was too late for that.
In the air I turned, hurtling back down with the staff in my hand.
An angered, final war cry burst from my lungs as I plummeted towards Rorian. The world around me was still soaked in blue as I reached him, smashing the sharpened end of the gem straight through Rorian’s chest.
In the final moment of Rorian’s life, my enemy looked me in the eyes blankly. Perhaps there was something there – regret, fear, pain and a multitude of other things. He reached out, attempting to grab at the staff as we continued to spin through the storm, before his arm fell back, along with his head.
With a grunt of effort I pulled the staff from his chest, using the leverage of his body to push into the air. Rorian’s body plummeted back down to earth, flying through the tornado that swirled around us and down into the red abyss from which he had come stumbling.
I watched him fall until he was out of sight, determined to know that he was gone… And with him, the storm vanished. My vision returned to normal, but the relentless ringing of the wind in my ears overwhelmed me entirely as every part of it was sucked back into the portal, along with every remaining demon that my witches had yet to take care of.
Looking down upon the earth, the clouds and the storm vanishing from my view and the portal finally closing up, I felt an unmatched relief wash over me. A hundred yards below I spotted them, Lois, Scarlett and Brianna looking up to me.
And then I was falling through the air, a bright flash of the sunset on the horizon the last thing I saw before blacking out in the midst of that terrible plummet.
Chapter Sixteen
It had been five days since I had awoken on the sunny evening in the coven. Five days to learn a small arsenal of spells, to learn how to command a staff, to fly a broomstick and summon demons, to talk to the Devil, to fight bad guys and evil monsters, to stare into the depths of hell and fight off a small army of minions and their terrible master, five days to bed three of the hottest girls I had ever seen in my life, who also just so happened to be witches.
Five days to be inducted into an ancient order as a warlock and, in doing so, becoming a master of witches.
So when my consciousness gave out in the shadow of the maelstrom that hung above the baseball field and I plummeted hundreds of feet to the ground, it should have been the end of me… And if I’m being real, a small part of me was impressed simply because I managed to stay al
ive for that much time.
Seriously, I couldn’t count the number of things that could have killed me over the last few days, and quite frankly should have killed me if it weren’t for total blind luck and staying quick on my feet.
That, and the tireless efforts of three witches who just so happened to live in an unsuspecting coven that took the form of a house that I had walked past hundreds of times without batting an eyelid at.
God, I loved them. Maybe a stupid thing to say after only five days, and in the real world it would be the fastest way to get a girl to go running for the freaking hills, but I couldn’t deny it. They had looked after me and I had looked after them.
So, all of that considered, I wouldn’t have been surprised if, somehow, I found out that I was dead. Disappointed that I wouldn’t see the girls again, but I had pushed my luck as far as it would go.
But that isn’t what happened – because my luck was willing to go a little further.
I felt like complete and total shit when I awoke. My throat was hoarse and sore, my eyes dragging themselves open, fighting to stay closed. I fought back, striving to keep the open in the dim light of wherever I was, and through the blurred watering of my eyes I saw the red sheets hanging overhead, dipping down towards where I lay.
Lifting my head slightly and instantly feeling a painful rush of blood to my eyes, I pressed my hands to my temples and looked about at my surroundings.
I was in the warlock’s quarters in the coven. Candles and lanterns were lit about the place, and from the record player a smooth jazz song buzzed.
‘Am… Am I alive?’ I muttered to myself, propping myself up and looking about again. I leaned over to the bedside table where a mug of water resided, only to find a brutal pain coursing through my chest as I twisted my torso.
I had been so baffled by the sheer, simple fact that I was alive that I completely forgot to check myself, particularly after the battle that we had all endured.
I was wearing nothing but my boxers, just as I had done when I’d first arrived, and I wasn’t without bandages. I had a few small cuts and scrapes that had been cleaned and left to heal up in the open air, but my chest had a huge bandage wrapped around it from where the pain was stemming.