by C R Langille
“I’m Sebastian. I’m not a special agent or anything. I’m just a kid.”
“Oh, I beg to differ young man. You are very special.”
“Who the hell are you?” Evard managed to ask before a series of coughs burst from his chest.
Doyle stood tall, his body rigid at attention. He brought one hand up in a salute.
“I’m Special Agent Doyle L. Johnson, ID Hotel-Prunes-Lollipop, 3-15-3.”
“Right,” Evard said. Evard wiped spittle from his chin and then helped Linda up.
“Where did you come from, Mr. Johnson?” Linda asked.
“Please, Special Agent if you will,” Doyle said with a slight frown. “I came from the In-between. Nasty place. Don’t recommend it this time of year.”
“In-between what?” Sebastian asked.
“Everything young man, everything.”
“That’s huge!”
“Just what in the hell are you talking about?” Linda asked.
She hugged Sebastian close to her. He fought to get out of her hug. It wasn’t cool. Didn’t want him to think he was a mommy’s boy. Sebastian finally wiggled away and stood up tall next her. He didn’t want to get too far away from his mommy either.
“The In-between. The dark realm that resides in between the cracks and crevices of the worlds. Kind of a double-edged sword; a horrible, horrible place, but necessary.”
“Why?” Sebastian asked.
“Without it, the worlds and dimensions would separate. The results would be, catastrophic.”
“You talk funny sometimes, Special Agent,” Sebastian said.
“Sebastian!” Mommy said.
“Quite alright. I do talk funny sometimes,” Doyle said.
Doyle turned back to the scary lady. He used his foot to move the thing’s head to the side. The neck snapped like a tree twig, and the head rolled to the wall. It left a trail of black goo along the carpet.
“Thank you,” Evard said.
“She wasn’t what you think. They’ll try and trick you and torment you before they eventually turn you. Fear is a delicacy to the euniphrites,” Doyle said.
“What’s a unibright?” Sebastian asked.
Doyle nudged the creature’s body with his foot again and then sat cross-legged in front of Sebastian.
“Would you like to hear a story, young man?” Doyle asked.
Sebastian nodded and smiled.
“Pay attention, because it’s important. A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. Well, not that far, but a long time ago nonetheless. The Seven Necromancers of Euniphrea banded together under the cold power of the dark. In the dark, they eventually heard the whispered promises of Kylho’ghnat, one of the Dark Tyrants. Using their forbidden arts, they unlocked the secrets of the dead and brought their own world to its knees. The great world of Euniphrea crumbled to bone and dust.”
Sebastian sat in awe. He loved stories. Even more, what Special Agent Doyle said sounded familiar, and deep down he knew it to be true. When the man talked, Sebastian could picture Euniphrea: huge forests that stretched as far as the eye could see with large cities built from white stone. There were landscapes full of red rocks and canyons that went deeper than he could see with giant red stone arches formed into the rock. Small settlements that reminded him of cowboys and the Wild West dotted the rocky landscape. The picture changed, showing him empty cities and dead forests, trees dead and dried up to empty husks, and mountains full of things that moved at the corners of his eyes.
Sebastian let out a quiet gasp. Doyle gave Sebastian a knowing nod and continued.
“Kylho’ghnat finally traveled through the cosmos and passed near enough to Euniphrea the Seven could ride in the wake of his cosmic tail like some sort of comet warship. They traveled through two dimensions and ate through four other worlds before finally Kylho’ghnat crashed into ours. The long travel and the crash weakened the Seven, and Kylho’ghnat was broken into many pieces when he entered our atmosphere.”
The picture changed and showed him the comet. It was a dark thing that traveled through outer space. Sebastian didn’t have anything to compare it to, but he got the sense it was very big. It made everything near it darker, as if it ate light. Seven orange dots flew like firefly bugs in the comet’s tail. The picture made him a little sick to his stomach.
“The Earth itself resisted the corrupting presence of Kylho’ghnat and fought back in any way it could. The Heavenly Armies and the Infernal Legion temporarily put aside their differences and fought together to trap the Seven and lock them away.”
Doyle said nothing more. The silence consumed the room. Grandpa looked at the floor and didn’t say anything. Mommy grabbed Sebastian again and pulled him close. She smelled nice, like moms usually do, but it made him look like a wimp. He struggled against it again, but she clamped down on him this time.
“This sounds crazy. Doesn’t this sound crazy?” Mommy asked and looked to Grandpa.
“Don’t believe me. I wouldn’t believe me. In time though, it won’t matter. Not much time left.”
“Linda, he’s telling the truth,” Grandpa said.
“You’re buying this line of bullshit? It sounds like a bad sci-fi movie for hell’s sake.”
“And you don’t think we’re living a bad horror movie? Look at what’s happened. Plus, I feel it. His words ring true Linda. Those seven things have broken out of their prison, and now they are out to destroy this world.”
Mommy stared at Grandpa. It was the same kind of stare she gave when Sebastian tried to tell her he didn’t color on the walls with crayons. Only this time, a Time-Out and hidden crayons wouldn’t fix anything.
Doyle stood and helped Grandpa up to his feet. The Special Agent’s face lit when he grabbed onto Grandpa’s hand.
“You have it don’t you? You can channel,” Doyle said.
Grandpa nodded.
“And the boy?” Doyle asked and looked toward Sebastian.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure of it now. His father could as well, but I tried my best to keep it from him.”
Doyle crouched down in front Sebastian and looked him over with wide eyes. He reached out to touch the boy’s head, but Linda pulled him away.
“Sorry,” Doyle said.
“Thank you for helping us, but excuse me if I don’t trust you yet,” Mommy said.
“Understandable and smart,” Doyle said. “Where’s the boy’s father?”
“He was out hunting before the storm hit. We haven’t heard from him,” Grandpa said. “But I feel he’s alive. I think I’d know if something happened.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Doyle said.
“You mentioned the Seven and some other thing,” Mommy said.
“Kylho’ghnat.”
“Yeah. So, is that,” she pointed to Kelly’s body, “one of the Seven?”
“No. Oh, no. Very much no. It’s a manifestation of their power. Kylho’ghnat escaped his prison and released the storm. The storm is an extension of the Dark Tyrant’s will, and through his power, the Seven were able to break free from their cell. Now, they are back to their old habits of consuming the world. Their method is through fear. They know what you are scared of, how to turn your screws, and what it would take to break you. Those they don’t eat turn into raving lunatics, because after you’ve seen what hides in the darkness, your mind snaps.”
Doyle looked to corner and scratched his head. He scratched harder and harder and then slapped his forehead a couple of times. Sebastian reached out and grabbed onto Doyle’s hand. He caught a glimpse of what haunted Doyle’s thoughts. He almost had an accident in his pants, but Mommy pulled him away before it could settle in his own mind.
“She was a creation of theirs. They don’t even control the creations per se, but they make them and set them loose. It’s almost a subconscious act for them. The Seven feed off
the fear. Then the Seven’s power feed the Dark Tyrant.”
“What happens if they get strong enough?” Grandpa asked.
“Then the world falls to darkness, and they move on. The Earth will have been nothing but a rest stop for them.”
“Can you kill them?” Sebastian asked.
Doyle scratched at his head again. “Yes and no. I killed one before jumping into the In-between. But when you kill one, the others get stronger. I’ve been told the last one will be almost unstoppable.”
“So, what do we do?” Mommy asked.
“We try anyway. Plus, we got to keep your boy safe. The darkness is going to try and get him because of what he can do,” Doyle said. He looked to Grandpa. “You too. They are attracted to your abilities like a mothman to disaster.”
“What’s a mothman?” Sebastian asked.
“Annoying is what they are,” Doyle said.
Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh.
Chapter Twenty
Toby wanted to scream, but he couldn’t muster one from his lungs. Brock opened his mouth wide like a bullfrog, and a cloud of black smoke billowed forth. The smoke slithered toward Toby like a snake in the water. He scrambled back, tripping on a fallen branch. The impact with the hard dirt blasted the air from his lungs, but the fall saved his life. The ash cloud flew over him and hit a nearby tree, setting off a deafening explosion that shook his insides. A high-pitched ring sounded inside his head, and his vision blurred.
Splinters and charred wood rained all over him. He threw an arm up over his face to shield himself and winced when bits of tree lodged in his skin. The smoke rolled back over him and retreated into Brock’s distended mouth. The aroma of burnt wood and the stink of bile clung to the air and made Toby’s eyes water.
Brock mumbled something unintelligible as he wrestled with his jaw. Toby couldn’t hear what the man said due to the ringing. As Brock reset his jaw, his words became clearer, and the ringing subsided. With a final twist, Brock set the bone in place. “There, better.”
Toby got to his feet. The action, small and simple, took more strength than it should have. Muscles in his back and legs wobbled as if he’d just run a marathon.
The tree Brock destroyed looked as if a mortar had hit it head on. What was once a mighty pine was nothing more than a blasted stump, and noodles of smoke floated into the sky.
I suggest you don’t let that nasty shite touch you, Love.
He turned to run but stopped after a couple steps. Jezebel protested, but he tuned her out the best he could. Running wasn’t working, and he would only die tired.
Toby faced Brock, planted his feet, and prepared himself mentally. If he didn’t stop Brock, then Toby and his family would die.
“Yes!” Brock said.
Brock smiled with a twisted Cheshire grin. Black mist seeped from the bullet wounds in his head and neck. The ashy wisps crawled from wound to wound like a sea serpent.
Have you lost your bloody mind, Love?
“Maybe I have. What do you care?” Toby asked.
You’re my ticket out of these woods.
Toby didn’t have time to ask for an explanation. He rolled to the side and avoided another blast from Brock, which felled the pine’s brother.
Maybe she was right. This was suicide.
I’m always right, Love.
Toby concentrated on his surroundings. The trees shrank away from his probes for energy. With the animals long since departed, there was nothing to draw energy from. Toby figured he would do it the old fashioned way.
He waited until Brock opened his mouth for another blast and then rushed forward. Toby lowered his shoulder and put his entire body behind it.
Brock gave a crooked smile as Toby hit him, and they both went to the ground.
Tendrils of black smoke caressed Toby’s cheeks and sent daggers of ice cold shooting through his face. The pair rolled across the ground, and when they came to a stop, Toby felt around the dirt until his fingers brushed across a rock. He picked it up and slammed it down onto Brock’s face. Brock put his arms up to ward off the blow, but he was too slow. Toby brought the rock down over and over again. Pieces of flesh, bone, and grey matter exploded into the nearby foliage. The gore stuck to the leaves and trees like gelatinous confetti.
Brock choked out a wet, phlegm-filled laugh as Toby hit him. The muscles in Toby’s arms burned with a heat only magma understood, and he struck until his arms refused to work. He sat back and let the rock slip from his grasp. Brock’s body twitched underneath him. The thing’s face was nothing more than a destroyed and broken mosaic of skin, bone, and blood. Dark smoke continued to seep from the cracks and gashes, only to dissipate into the forest air.
What would it take to kill the creature?
More than a little Neanderthal engineering, Love.
Brock’s skull burst and sent shards of bone flying in different directions. Toby rolled and scurried away until his back hit a tree.
The ashy cloud shot out of Brock’s broken body and hovered for a moment in the mountain air. Whatever the cloud really was, Toby knew it watched him with a gluttonous desire. The anger and yearning from the cloud was almost palpable. Then it flew at him.
Toby’s survival instinct went full throttle, and he lashed out. Golden energy coalesced around his fingers and lanced toward the smoke. Something inside him stirred and pulled at his core. Someone screamed, but he couldn’t tell if it was him or Jezebel.
The light hit the darkness, and a thunderclap bounced around the trees. The flash blinded him momentarily and left ghost images of his surroundings that floated behind his eyelids. The sharp stink of burnt meat hit his nose as his eyesight returned. The smoke was gone.
You stupid gob shite! I told you to be careful. Who knows what you’ve lost! You could have destroyed yourself, Love.
“What are you talking about?”
Toby got to his feet and looked around. Other than Brock’s now lifeless body, everything looked normal. A wave of nausea hit him, and his legs wobbled and for a moment. All he wanted to do was curl up in a dark corner and take a nap.
If you don’t draw the energy from somewhere, you’ll take it from your own body. Do it too much, and bad things will happen.
“Like what?”
Horrible consequences, Love. There’s no time to get into the finer details of the situation, but at a minimum you can expect to lose memories.
“And the other end of the spectrum?”
You blast your body to bloody tiny pieces, you gob shite. Look, be careful of where you draw your power.
He didn’t know if she told the truth or not. But he was tired. Hell, the simple act of talking became a chore and took a lot of exertion. Toby sat down before he fell over. His vision blurred, and for a horrible second, he thought he would pass out.
Oh, no you don’t. Stay awake.
Pain lanced through his mind and ripped him from the dark. The sleepiness blasted away under the white-hot light of agony. It stopped as quick as it came on, but the familiar taste of blood dominated his mouth.
“What the fuck!”
Couldn’t let you sleep. Who knows what might consider you a meal out here. Now get up.
Toby got to his feet. It took a lot, but he managed.
Did I kill it?
Hardly. It’s trying to regroup. It’s drawn on a lot of power lately to play its tricks, which is the only bloody reason you’re still walking and talking. I suggest you get moving, Love.
“Right.”
Toby grabbed the keys to the Jeep. It was scary how easy it was to slip into conversation with Jezebel. He was even calling her by name.
I grow on people quickly.
“Yeah, tumors grow as well.”
Cute.
Toby smiled, but the smile faded. He rubbed his forehead with the palms of his hands.<
br />
“Just be quiet,” Toby said.
He made it to the Jeep and got in. The vehicle fired up on the first try, which was a welcome respite from the day’s events. Toby put it in gear and hit the road, which turned out to be more of a trail. Jagged rocks, roots, and foliage did their best to stop him, but motivation kept him steady, kept him going forward. If Donna and her man could get in here, Toby could get out.
The trail smoothed out a little and soon connected to a nice dirt road. The trees thinned out, and he found himself in a large draw between two mountains. He recognized the canyon and knew exactly where he was. Within moments, he was on his way home, on his way back to his family.
You have such a bloody cute smile, Love.
Her voice made him jump. In his elation, Toby forgot the fact that a strange disembodied voice haunted him.
I wouldn’t say haunt you. I grace you with my presence.
“Look, would you please leave me alone? What are you anyway? Have I finally lost my last piece of sanity?”
Jezebel made a tsking sound and then laughed. Her laugh melted his spine and sent a wave of pleasure across his skin. She had a laugh that instantly put his mind in the gutter. He needed to get a hold of himself.
Let go, Love. You’ll like it. And no, you haven’t lost your mind. I’m merely a poor soul lost in the woods, like you.
Toby growled, hit the steering wheel with his fist, and looked in the rearview mirror. He halfway expected to see her in the back seat, yet nothing but his own dirt covered face stared back.
“Are you a ghost?”
Hardly. Let’s say I’m here to help you. We can help each other. If you let me in, fully let me in, I can give you the knowledge and tools necessary to get home to your family.
The trees slipped by faster and faster. The road smoothed out even more, and the highway beckoned him through a copse of pines.
“And what’s in it for you?”
Freedom. I’ve been trapped in this hellhole of a forest for over three decades. Let me tell you, three decades in Hell can be a very long time.
“Hell, as in proper noun, Hell?”