David looked towards the exit and growled.
“You okay, David?”
He didn’t reply. He marched across the office, shoving Big Jimmy out of his way in the centre of the room. Then he barged through the exit and went out into the waiting room. It was empty, but something in David’s bones told him he was heading in the right direction. Andras was out here, somewhere; he knew it.
He took the stairs downward and detected the tang of blood in the air. Despite her being dead, David wanted to check on Mina. He headed to the accountant’s office where he had placed her, and the smell of blood got even stronger. It made no sense because Mina had not been wounded. Whether it was paranoia, or a subconscious eye for detail, David noticed the furniture in the office had moved. The reception desk had been piled high with stacks of paperwork, but some of those piles now lay on the floor. It could have been a breeze, but it was hot and still. He could already feel the sweat on his back just from taking the stairs down.
A shuffling sound came from one of the smaller offices. It was too dark to see in through the room’s windows, and horizontal blinds broke up any would-be shadows, but he knew somebody was inside. David considered shouting out, but reconsidered. He was here to find that bastard, Andras, so he didn’t want to give himself away.
The shuffling stopped, replaced by a faint whispering. The words made no sense, a jumble of consonants and few vowels. David kept low and crept towards the door to the office. He placed his ear against the wood and tried to listen.
A man inside was chanting—“Grlaw grlaw, hmdar veri vesta. Larix van doth.”
It was Andras, David was sure, but what language was he speaking? He knew a little Latin from his university days, but it wasn’t that. He knew German from a brief spell as a war correspondent, but it wasn’t that either. It was gibberish—the guttural snaps of an angry dog.
Andras was insane.
The thought of getting his hand on Mina’s murderer was too much to resist. David barged through the door.
Andras stood half-naked over Mina’s unclothed body. Her hands and feet were removed, placed in each corner of the room, and the brown flesh of her stomach was sliced open to reveal a gaping hole. Congealed blood coated Andras’s bare chest.
“You… you fuckin’ monster!”
Andras saw David, but he didn’t seem to care. He held his bloody hands up in front of him as some kind of grizzly taunt.
David felt weak. His stomach’s meagre contents dredged up, and he vomited. Mina had been his friend and colleague. Now she lay, defiled, on the floor. “Why would you do something so unspeakable?” he demanded once he could get a hold on himself.
Andras’s answer was: “To send a message.”
“A message to whom? Me?”
“Ha! You are insignificant. The message is for my brothers. You may have heard of them; they are currently crushing your world beneath their glorious feet.”
David drew a blank.
Andras grunted. “The Fallen are my brothers, and they will destroy all. The time of man is over.”
“You’re talking about the giants?”
“They are not giants. Men are puny ants.”
“You’re a loon,” said David. “Do you think you’re some kind of demon helping the other side? Fantasy or delusion, I don’t care which. You’re finished.”
Andras laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? This is just a meat suit. Some drug addict I borrowed as he choked to death on his own vomit. You could not bear to look upon the glory of my true form. I am here to see you all burn.”
David glared. “You killed Mina.”
“I will kill millions before I am done.”
“Then why are you hanging around a regional newspaper office?”
“You are one of the few news gatherers left. You have provided me with data from all over the world, highlighting areas that my brothers need to address. I deleted your pathetic website, and I will help delete mankind’s existence.”
“We’re helping people,” said David. “You won’t stop us.”
“Mina thought the same. Such an enthusiastic, brave girl. She might actually have made a difference, but you? No, you are too self-involved to ever be a hero.”
“You will lose. We’ve closed one of your gates.”
“One of thousands. My brothers will defend the others; I have already warned them. You have no chance. Humans are weak and mushy. The Fallen are eternal.”
David looked around the room, saw that, in addition to Mina’s scattered limbs, there was also a series of bloody sigils smudged onto the walls. “Who are the Fallen? How did you send a message to your brothers?”
Andras grinned. “Like this.” He dropped to one knee and shoved his bloody hands into the open cavity of Mina’s stomach. A bright light filled the room, and a sudden concussive force threw David against the wall and knocked the wind out of him. A shimmering puddle appeared in the air above Mina’s stomach, and an image projected onto it. David saw one of the giants up close—a blond man with crystalline-blue eyes.
Andras kept his hands buried in Mina’s belly as he spoke. “Qemuel, He who was destroyed by God, but has risen, it is I, Andras, The Discordant.”
A booming voice returned. “Brother Andras, what say you?”
“I am compromised and must move on from this place. What would the Red Lord have of me?”
“Take back your form, and join us in battle. Shed your fetid shackles, and rise in your glory. Human vulnerability does not suit you. Make rivers of human blood.”
Andras sighed euphorically. “Yes. Yes, I will bring forth my body and lay waste to all I see. Screams will fill the—”
David tackled Andras to the ground and terminated the conversation. As soon as the demon’s hands left Mina’s body, the portal blinked out of existence. Andras growled as David straddled him. David was no fighter, but he was a man, and he was angry. He pummelled Andras with punch after punch.
Andras was not a man though, and that was clear when he snaked a hand onto David’s face and cooked his flesh.
“Glat glat comna hartis.”
David screamed as his skin blistered and boiled. He could not escape the crushing, searing grip. His vision blurred and blackened.
“Burn, maggot,” Andras growled.
David reached out his hands desperately. His fingers found Andras’s face, and he pointed his thumbs at where he hoped a pair of eyes would be. There was a moment of resistance, followed by a wet squelch as David’s thumbs disappeared inside Andras’s eye sockets.
The demon bellowed.
Andras’s searing hand slipped away from David’s face and went to his own mangled eyes. The burning stopped, and David collapsed backwards onto the floor, trying to cradle his face, but recoiling in agony as his fingertips caused sparks of agony, like white hot pokers. It hurt to blink, and his lips flared with unbearable pain.
Andras rose to his feet at the same time David did. Both men moaned and staggered around in pained confusion.
“I’ll tear out your insides,” Andras spat.
David was in danger of passing out, but he focused on staying upright and readied himself for a fight. “Come and try it, you fucking monster.”
Andras attacked, but it was clumsy and in the wrong direction. He hit against a desk and stumbled.
“You’re blind,” mocked David.
Andras glanced in the direction of his voice, bleeding eyes pierced like grapes. “No matter. I will return to my own body soon and see more clearly than ever.”
David crept to one side, moving around to Andras’s side. “Until then, you’re a blind, little mouse.”
Andras spun around. “I’ll kill you.”
“Then come on. Better yet, why don’t you go get your big giant body, and stomp me into puddles.”
“I will show you pain you cannot imagine.”
David chuckled. “I’m thinking you can’t get back to your true body without doing another one of your nasty spells, but how are y
ou going to manage that with no sight?” He moved around behind Andras. “Am I right?”
Andras spun around, getting frustrated. “I will bathe in your blood!”
“Your brother’s name was Qemuel?”
“Qemuel, The Great and Risen.”
David moved around behind Andras again. “He said you were vulnerable in a human body.”
Andras swiped at the air, but got nowhere near hitting David. David crept back towards the front of the office. A coat rack stood beside the door. Somebody had left a long golfing umbrella hanging from one of the arms, and David unhooked it carefully.
Andras swiped at the air again, but was still nowhere near. He’d begun to rave and rant like a maniac. “I’ll grind your bones into dust, you maggot. You seek to mock me? I am Andras, Marquis of Hell.”
“And I’m David Davids, reporting to you live.” He used the umbrella’s crooked handle to hook Andras’s ankle and yank the demon off his feet. He hit his head on the desk hard enough to leave him stunned.
David’s face still flared with agony, but he couldn’t help but grin as he swung the umbrella like a golf club and struck Andras under the chin. The demon moaned and grabbed his face.
“That’s the problem when you inhabit a human body, Andras, dear boy: We’re all so weak and mushy.”
Andras clawed at the air blindly.
David hit him again with the umbrella. “If I kill you, what will happen?”
“You cannot kill what cannot die.”
“You’ll go back to your body, won’t you? If I kill you, I’ll release you. Wouldn’t want to be doing that. Would be a terrible waste of intel. I think you owe us after all the spying you’ve been doing.”
Andras leapt to his feet like a cat and swung for David, almost hitting him this time. “Let’s finish this,” he hissed. “I cannot bear the stench of humanity any longer.”
David swung the umbrella at Andras’s head, but this time, Andras snatched at it and yanked David towards him. When Andras dug out one of his eyeballs, he screamed so hard he almost lost consciousness. In desperation, he forced the umbrella upwards under Andras’s chin, hard enough to bury itself in his neck. It was enough to get the demon to retreat.
David staggered backwards, palming at his ruined eye, which was now an empty socket.
“An eye for an eye.” Andras sniggered over by the door. David choked back his torment and reminded himself what would happen if he gave up. “I took both of your eyes, you son-of-a-bitch, so you’re still the one losing.”
“Then I have work to do.” Andras came forward again, but stopped when the door to the office opened.
“David?” came a meek little voice.
David’s heart leapt into his chest when he saw Alice standing there. “Alice, get out of here, now!”
“But Carol is looking for—”
Alice screamed.
Andras grabbed her around the throat and held her in front of him. “Just what I needed,” he said. “I can use her guts to make a spell and get me back to where I belong.”
“Let her go,” David warned.
“I don’t think I will. In fact, I think I’ll let you watch with your one good eye, while I twist her head off.”
“Just let her go!”
Alice stopped screaming and went completely silent, like she had after her brother died. She looked at David with her lower lip trembling.
David smiled at her, despite it causing him agony and his ruined face no doubt scaring her. “Don’t you worry about me, sweetheart. Everything is okay.”
“No,” said Andras. “The time has come for little children to learn about the horrors of the world. There are no heroes, only blood and death.”
Alice panted, not fear in her eyes, but anger. “Yes, there are heroes.”
Andras chuckled. “No, there aren’t, child. There are only monsters, like me.”
“You’re wrong. My brother was a hero. His name was Kyle.” She lifted her foot into the air and stomped hard on Andras’s shin. He let go of her and hopped on one foot as his hands went to his injured leg.
“You little shit!”
David reached out his hand. “Alice, come to me. Quick!”
Alice ran to his side, and once she was safe, he sprinted forward and drove the metal tip of his umbrella right into Andras’s open mouth. He shoved the demon backwards, through the main office, and into the reception, driving the umbrella deeper and deeper into his throat as they picked up speed.
Out the office’s exit. Across the hallway.
The open stairwell lay just ahead.
Andras tried to get his balance, but David kept on shoving him back until he struck the safety railing over the stairwell. They had enough speed that Andras went right up over it. He managed to cling on for a moment, but David was the one with all the leverage and grabbed a hold of the demon’s wrist. He glared into his face. “Back to Hell with you.”
Andras laughed, and actually threw himself backwards. He wanted death, wanted the release that would send him back to his true body. He fell from the second floor and hit the ground below, letting out an endless wail as the air escaped his compressed lungs.
David turned to find Alice coming out of the office behind him. “Get back to Carol,” he said. “I’ll be right up.”
Alice nodded and ran up the stairs.
David headed down to where Andras lay at the bottom, gasping for breath. The demon’s body was twisted and broken, and the pain on his face was a joy to behold for David.
“Hurts, doesn’t it? I broke my wrist once playing badminton. Ached like buggery for almost two years. I can only imagine what a broken back must feel like. Next time, throw yourself from a little higher up to get the job done.”
Andras struggled to move, but could barely even lift his neck. “M-maggot.”
“You’re the one on the ground.”
“I will-”
“Yes, yes, I know: You’re going to do unspeakable things to me. I’m terribly frightened, but right now, you’re all but paralysed. I’m thinking, with a little tender loving care, we can keep you alive for some time yet. I’ll make sure you’re right at home. You can have a front row seat, while we help save the world.”
Andras struggled, but could only flop like a beached salmon. “Let me die.”
David sneered, ignoring the sharp pains coming from every inch of skin on his face. “Now why would I do that? I’m not a monster.” He stamped on one of Andras’s lifeless legs and broke the shinbone. “Well, maybe just a smidge.”
He grabbed Andras by the arms and dragged him up the stairs, being as clumsy and careless as he could. By the time Andras reached the top, he was begging for mercy.
~Rick Bastion~
Devonshire, England
Night fell, and all was quiet. Rick had just dragged the last of the dead demons into the driveway, and had returned to Daniel, who still slept fitfully on the couch. The Fallen Angel was in and out of consciousness, and Rick wasn’t sure he would ever wake up. Daniel was one of the good guys—had all but proved it—and if he died, then Rick would be left alone and clueless.
He sat down at his piano and placed a glass of water on the lid. The whisky had all been used to make Molotov cocktails, but even if he’d had some left, he would have chosen water.
He thought about his brother, and Maddy, and Diane. He hoped that they had made it someplace safe, but whether there even was anywhere safe to go was a major question. His laptop had been in the kitchen during his fight with Khallutush and hadn’t made it. Nor did the phone or television work anymore. The power and water were still on, but he expected to lose them eventually too. Whoever was in charge of such things, had probably died or scattered—no blue-collar worker would stick around and do their job while the world ended. Everybody had a family to get to, somewhere. Everyone, that was, except for Rick. His only family was a brother, whom he rarely even liked and would most likely never see again. He didn’t specifically mourn the loss of his brother, but
the bond of having somebody close would be missed. Rick was used to loneliness, but he’d never endured what he was feeling now: abandonment. The world had left him. The one thing left in his life that could bring him comfort was his piano—but he only had one hand with which to play. He looked at his crushed fingers and wept, but then he looked at his trembling right hand and realised that he was blessed to be left with anything at all.
Fingertips of his good hand resting on the keys, Rick held his breath. Always a twinge of excitement before playing the first note, and now was no different, but there was a feeling of trepidation also—he would have to play one-handed for the first time in his life, and wasn’t sure he could do it. A single hand with which to create something living, amidst all of the death. One hand to breathe life to music.
He started playing.
House of the Rising Sun.
He played flawlessly.
The melody took him away, carried his mind to that ethereal place where all great music comes from.
“That’s pretty good. Ever think about doing it professionally?”
Rick’s fingers leapt off the keys and hung in the air. He spun around and saw his brother standing in the living room. “Keith?”
“Yep. I didn’t think you’d made it.”
“I kind of didn’t,” said Rick. “What are you doing here?”
Maddy and Diane walked in and joined Keith. All three of them looked weary and tired.
“Hi, Rick,” said Maddy. “We came back.”
Rick didn’t understand. “Why?”
“Because there’s nowhere to go.” Keith let out a heavy sigh. “We tried to make for the motorway, but there are wrecks everywhere. People are fighting in the streets, and there are still demons all over the place. We’d never make it to the coast. We thought our little battle was special, but it’s happening everywhere.”
Rick glanced at Maddy. “Your wedding ring?”
She shrugged. “I thought it was important, but after what I saw out there, I’ve realised that there’s no point holding on to the past. My husband is gone, but I’m still here. There are better ways to honour him than getting myself killed.”
Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 27