Curse of the Red Evil

by Zel Spasov

  No one else laughed.

  “I wanted to say, with all my heart, that I'm sorry... we didn’t catch you earlier!” said Fraud. “Ha! Of course, the Frog has also earned his sentence. But I'm inclined to make a deal: if you tell me where the stolen jewels are, I’ll tell the executioner to behead you before he puts you in the boiling pot of water.”

  Jean had difficulty answering, because he had swallowed the file just as the guard opened the hatch. He shook his head from side to side to communicate he didn’t want to take the deal.

  “Jean refuses,” Cayden said instead.

  “So be it!” Fraud’s tone gave his irritation away. “Then we'll torture him first until he tells us where the jewels are, and then we'll push him into the pot. I wanted you to know, Mister Starosta,” he said, “that, given the severity of your deeds, I would’ve condemned you twice if I could, but unfortunately you can die only once. Your executioner is almost ready.”

  Having said that, the king walked away. One of the boars guarding the prison started closing the hatch, but Cayden had an idea. Hadn’t Jean warned him earlier to never look a boar directly in the eyes?

  “Guard!” Cayden heard himself shouting. He rose from the bed and approached the door.

  “What is it?” the boar asked impatiently.

  “I was wondering, can we get a final meal?”

  “What?”

  “Well, since you’re going to execute us, we should get a final meal, shouldn’t we? Isn’t that the law?” Cayden was improvising like a drunken jazz musician who had forgotten what song he was playing.

  “I’ve never heard of that. What would be the point of giving you food since you’re going to die anyway?” asked the guard. “It would be wasted on you.”

  Cayden met the boar’s gaze. His eyes held a fiery glow.

  “Look, I think this is all a big misunderstanding,” Cayden said, keeping eye contact.

  “A misunderstanding?! Are you denying your guilt?” The guard’s anger grew.

  “No, no, it’s just, you see, I don’t remember anything...”

  “You don’t remember?! I will give you something to remember...”

  The boar’s face turned red. It looked like it was going to explode.

  “What are you doing?!” said the Frog, from his cage, with a full mouth.

  “He's a boar,” whispered Cayden without interrupting the eye contact with the guard.

  The boar was as red as a tomato.

  Seeing his livid color, the king tried to help him. “Don’t do it! Calm down!”

  But the guard had already crossed the line. The boar was overwhelmed with fury.

  “Stop him!” the king yelled out.

  The guards tried to hold him down, but it was too late. With a wild wail, he tossed them to one side and ran with great speed toward the door of Cayden’s cell. He crashed into it, and the door exploded into dozens of splinters. In the cloud of flying wood, his tusks gleamed, ready to pierce the prisoners.

  At this point, the main drawback of the plan had manifested itself. Now there was nothing keeping the murderously inclined guard away from Cayden. In a desperate attempt to save himself, he jumped away from the guard’s path, hoping to somehow miraculously avoid his sharp tusks.

  A blast from a sudden explosion shook the dungeon. Dust filled the air. Small pebbles and splinters flew in all directions. The burst threw Cayden into the air. He struck his head on the wall behind him. The boar stumbled and flew forward, his sharp tusks barely missing Cayden’s head. Instead, they got stuck in the bars of the window above the bed.

  For a moment, there was silence in the prison before all hell broke loose.

  Cayden’s head throbbed, and he lost consciousness.

  ***

  Agapea wasn’t sleeping tonight. Heavy rain poured from the heavens. Even though the torrent had helped put the fires out, the firefighters still had a lot of work to do. They were busy saving citizens who had been buried under the collapsed buildings. The city guard was occupied with maintaining order while the city drowned in chaos, and alcoholics were busy drinking in pubs. Since it was the first night of the Festival of Nine Moons, the citizens had decided to continue celebrating despite the attack. There was dancing on the corners of the streets and the city squares, wine was pouring, and laughter was ringing. In other places, sad musicians sang sorrowful songs, surrounded by seated listeners, some of them weeping, others staring at the destruction with blank eyes. Tonight, they had lost their homes, their families, their lives. Such a night brought out the hidden sides of society. Masks fell off, and suppressed feelings gushed like water from the ground.

  As the city recovered, a couple of brave dreamers sneaked through the shadows. A head popped out like a periscope around the corner of a building. The head looked in both directions to make sure the path ahead was clear. Then the rest of the Sloth’s body appeared from behind the house. The Rabbit appeared too, dashing forward only to stop after a few meters and jump impatiently in one place.

  The Sloth was hauling a large wooden chest with iron plating. The crate was equipped with an umbrella to keep it dry.

  Finally, they reached their goal—the palace. The castle’s security was loosened because the guards were needed to deal with the mess in the city. They remained unnoticed as they approached the ditch surrounding the castle. If anyone saw them, they would sound the alarm, and then every watchman nearby would be on their heels.

  Charles pointed to the other side of the moat. “Will you help me?” he asked, looking at the Sloth.

  The creature smiled with understanding and grabbed him around the middle with one paw. He stretched his hands over the ditch and set the Rabbit on the opposite bank, then grabbed the chest and leaped over the ditch with his long legs.

  He opened the wooden chest, revealing that it was full of dynamite. Three matches were inside as well, wrapped in cloth and carefully placed in a separate section.

  “The dynamite has a ten-second fuse, but it only burns for eight seconds,” said Charles. “Or was it an eight-second one that burned for six? What kind of an idiot named them this way, anyway?”

  It had, in fact, been an old crippled man named Joe, may he rest in peace, who had given the fuses their names. He had died in an accident involving a six-second fuse which had burned for four, instead of a ten-second fuse burning for eight, as Joe had thought. Of course, the Rabbit didn’t know the origin of the names; he just knew what they were called.

  While the Sloth carefully held the umbrella above the chest to keep the fuses from getting wet, Charles took the first match and tried lighting it. It broke in two. He cursed and tried a second. It was too wet to catch a spark. Charles took the last one and quietly said a prayer. Miraculously, the match ignited. He lit the fuses and then took cover behind a large boulder together with the Sloth. Moments later, a powerful explosion shook the earth. Stones flew everywhere, and dust covered the ground. In the place near the palace’s wall, where the wooden chest had stood, a big hole now lead directly into the castle dungeons.

  Charles cried out, “Let’s go, quickly!”

  He and the Sloth jumped into the big hole.

  The guards inside were still recovering from the blast. Charles charged the watchmen, while the Sloth hurled them with his long, powerful paws. The Rabbit leaped over their heads, knocking them down with his feet.

  Amid all the chaos, he managed to shout out, “We have to find Cayden before It appears!”

  ***

  At the other end of the prison, Cayden Starosta woke up. The guard was unconscious and stuck in the bars of the window above his bed. Cayden heard somebody call out his name and struggled to his feet. The burning torches lit up a fierce battle unfolding at the threshold of his cell. Their light reflected on the whirlwind of metal, causing flashes that blinded Cayden. The Frog's cell lay crushed on the ground. Its door was open, and there was no sign of Jean himself.

  Cayden stumbled down the corridor, avoiding the fight. A giant Sloth was
throwing guards every which way.

  Up ahead, a moonlight beam illuminated the corridor through a huge hole in one of the walls. Before he could reach that spot, something soft, white, and fluffy hit him in the face. In the dark, two rabbit eyes met his.

  “Cayden!” said the Rabbit. “We found you! Where is Jean?”

  “Ribbit,” said Jean, sneaking through the chaos. “I'm not going without the ruby!”

  “There’s no time!” the Rabbit shouted. “We're leaving now!”

  King Fraud was desperately trying to restore order.

  “Get them!” he said. “Don’t let them escape!”

  A note of fear colored his voice. He was afraid of Something. A moment later, the Thing in question revealed itself. The light of the torches disappeared; the temperature dropped; a red mist materialized in the air. The red cloud slipped through the cracks in the walls and the gaps in the windows, through mouse holes and the gaps in the stones. The Presence thickened, forming a shapeless body with countless tentacles.

  The beating inside Cayden's head increased to an unbearable pain, as if someone were beating a giant drum in his skull. A voice thundered in his head: “GUILTY! GUILTY! GUILTY!” Paralyzing fear squeezed his stomach.

  It wasn’t an ordinary fog. It was intelligent and moved purposefully. Its tentacles caught an unfortunate watchman standing too close. His death cry reverberated through the air. Cayden watched in horror as the nebula literally sucked the life out of the guard's body. His skin wrinkled, his cheeks sank inward, his eyes whitened. Lifeless, the watchman’s body fell to the ground. The red mist focused on the Frog. Its tentacles surrounded him, cutting his escape route off. If Cayden didn’t distract the Presence somehow, Jean was doomed.

  The Sloth stretched out his arms, knocking down guards and clearing the way for Cayden as if he’d read his thoughts. Even though he was trembling with dread, Cayden ran toward the stairs leading to the upper levels of the castle.

  “Hey, Red Plop!” he shouted, despite fear choking him.

  The tentacles stopped their advance on Jean and instead turned to Cayden. His plan had worked. The only problem was that he didn’t know what to do next. The red presence crawled toward him. Soon, the fog halved the distance between them. Cayden was paralyzed with fear. The presence filled the corridor, towering over him like a giant god. A little more and It would swallow him in its life-sucking embrace.

  Something stroked Cayden’s cheek. The red ribbon he had seen before swirled several times in the air and disappeared up the stairs. He followed it. The presence chased after him like a predator pursuing its prey. Its tentacles sprang from the walls, from under the doors, and from the ceiling. Cayden ran faster, hoping to divert It for long enough so that the others could get out. He followed the red ribbon into a large hall. It quickly disappeared behind a door at the other end of the room. The red presence emerged behind Cayden. Mere centimeters separated him from its deadly touch. No matter how fast he ran, the Evil was drawing closer. He often had to jump to the side, because the tentacles suddenly appeared from a wall in front of him. The red strip continued to guide him forward. Cayden turned around a corner and collided with Jean.

  “What are you doing?!” Cayden asked.

  The red tentacles appeared around the corner and crawled toward them like vipers getting ready to swallow their supper. Soon the mist surrounded them.

  Their only exit was a window at the end of the corridor. Once they reached it, they saw a ditch below them surrounding the castle.

  “We’ll have to jump!” Cayden shouted.

  “I can’t swim,” said the Frog.

  “We don’t have a choice! I’ll hold you!”

  The fog was approaching fast. Cayden grabbed the Frog and jumped out of the window a moment before the Red Evil reached them. They slammed into the water, and the force of the blow split them from each other. Jean plopped around, helpless like a... frog that couldn’t swim. Two long arms belonging to the Sloth grabbed them and dropped them on the shore, wet to their bones. Rain poured out of the sky.

  “Where's the ruby?” the Rabbit asked.

  Jean showed his tongue. A red gem rolled from his mouth and fell into Cayden’s hands.

  “That's... wonderful...” Cayden said with disgust. The moment the gem touched his skin, he felt it pulsating with a warm glow. The thumping in his head was strong, almost painful, and very similar to the feeling he’d had when the Red Evil had appeared in the prison.

  “Come to me…” The whispers came from the ruby. “COME TO ME…”

  Cayden now knew where the voice was coming from—it was the Presence calling out to him. It and the precious stone were connected somehow.

  “The ruby is the key to defeating It,” the Frog said.

  Cayden nodded and put it in his pocket.

  “We have to go,” Jean said.

  The soaking wet friends sank into the darkness once more, while the shouting of the guards echoed in the night. The city guards would spend the rest of the evening trying to find the fugitives—them and the red ruby. Lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating the darkness. The wail of someone, or Something, pierced the night, breaking reality in two. The inhuman noise drowned all other sounds. It took some time before the universe returned its voice. The Red Evil had awakened.

  Chapter 6

  M onsieur Gèroux sat at the bar with a glass of whiskey in his hand. After the fires had been put out, the slum residents had entered The Lion’s Heart to have a drink and listen to the local musicians. Gèroux's family was upstairs. They were lucky that they still had a home at all. Some of the houses had been burned to the ground.

  With the combined effort of all the neighbors, they had managed to save most of the district. The rain had helped immensely by stopping the spreading of the fire. And the fire brigade hadn’t arrived yet. They weren’t going to. Such was the fate of the poor—no one cared whether they lived or died.

  Though the fires were extinguished, the threat wasn’t over. The roofs of most houses were leaking. If no measures were taken, the heavy rainfall would flood them in no time. The ceiling of Monsieur Bernard's house was in a pretty good state. If he threw the buckets of water out from time to time, everything would be fine. But for many other families, the battle had not yet finished.

  After the fire came the water. The elements appeared one after the other, but the poor endured. They were still there, despite living in a world that wanted to burn them alive, drown them, forget them.

  The tavern’s patrons were mournful. Stuck in this hopeless place, there was no salvation for them. They had survived by the skin of their teeth this time, but sooner or later their strength would leave them. Then there would be no one left to fight the fires. The city would swallow them, suck the flesh from their bones and leave their bare skeletons buried in this dump. Monsieur Gèroux growled. He felt sorry for his neighbors, but at the same time he hated them. He despised the fact that he lived among such pathetic beings, devoid of purpose and will. He would get out of the slum someday. He wouldn’t wait for the next fire to incinerate his life.

  Despite the unforeseen attack, his task remained the same: to capture the Frog and his accomplice and bring them to the city guard. The same anger he had felt burning through him when he fought the fires gave him strength and cleared his mind. The human traveling with Jean was important, Someone whispered to him. Catching him was very important, the Voice added. Then he would receive his reward, a promotion to a Royal Bounty Hunter. He was already imagining the ceremony—he was standing on the podium, dressed in the official clothes of a Royal Hunter, his family looking at him from the crowd. All of this he was doing for them. If he got a cushy job in the palace, he would never have to worry about where the next check would come from. Then his wife would finally be able to stop worrying and his cubs would have a future.

  The bards were playing their sad tunes while the patrons drowned their sorrows in alcohol.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is ‘End
of the World’ boogie,” said the singer. “This is the end of the world, my darling, so let's dance, dear, for the world will end today, and tomorrow will never come.”

  The bliss of the musicians was interrupted by the swinging of the tavern’s door. Members of the city guard rushed into the room.

  “We are looking for a prisoner who escaped from the palace,” one of them said. “A human man with a torn white T-shirt and blue trousers. If someone has information about his whereabouts, they will be rewarded. The bounty for his head is ten thousand gold pieces.”

  The statement caught the attention of Monsieur Gèroux. So, the human had been captured and had broken out of prison. Jean was accompanying him, according to the Voice. His blood began to boil, and he again felt the unshakable anger coming from outside and filling him with life.

  Pain overwhelmed Monsieur Gèroux. Images flashed in his head—first of him as a Royal bounty hunter, having all the fame and fortune he desired, and of his family, happy and safe, watching him with pride. After this, he saw the attack of the Windhaveners, the jailbreak of the human. The images were accompanied by angry words that echoed in his ears: “CATCH HIM! CATCH HIM!”

  The wolf reached for his belt where his sword was hanging. The cool steel calmed his nerves and sharpened his senses. Slowly, the images faded away, and the music from the bar came back. Monsieur Gèroux wondered from where these feelings and thoughts had come. They didn’t seem to be his… It probably was just his imagination. What other explanation could there be? That Someone or Something communicated with him telepathically? Nonsense.

  The wolf made his way through the excited crowd while the bards continued playing their sad song: “When the sun goes down, my heart will sing.” Bernard went out into the street. The rain had stopped, and the moon shone in the night sky. It was time to hunt. Monsieur Gèroux went into the dark night.

  “And when the world ends, I will dance, alone on my grave,” the bard sang behind him.

  ***