by Sean Davies
"You speak Freak?! You know names?! No one speaks Freak, they all sound like they're talking gibberish!" Lewis said rapidly.
Winston looked confused. "I've always been able to understand them, though before today it was never conversation. Just death threats, murderous rants about eating my innards, plucking out my eyes, the usual Freak speak from the uncivilised ones. I usually cross over in low population areas, you see. Maybe my book taught me their language somehow?"
"Hmm, could've done. And for the record, there’s no ‘usual Freak speak’. You may be the only BW in history with that ability. Your book must have slipped it into your head, it’s the only explanation I can think of… and here’s me thinking that I was going to be the greatest Book Wielder of all time,” he joked.
“All this time I thought it was normal,” Winston pondered. He’d been told on many occasions by the local members of the Circle that he was highly skilled for his level of experience – after all, they had convinced Lucius to give him a try out for the main position in the entire gang, but he never thought he wielded a unique ability. He stood and thought of his book for a moment, wondering how many other unique skills it would teach him.
“Well, you must have a good future ahead of you if your book’s given you that gift,” Lewis continued, “but I hope it's taught you how to fight well too! Diplomacy only gets you so far, and that’s true for both worlds.” For a moment Lewis looked lost in thought. “You know, I don't even bother bringing fruit for the deal anymore, the Freaks generally don't bother me unless I bother them first. I must have spent so much time in here that they see me as part of the mangled furniture," he laughed, although Winston was sure he could detect a hint of nervousness in it.
"That's good, I guess. Maybe you have your own ability too?” Winston suggested positively.
“The brilliant power of not being noticed… wow…” Lewis sighed sarcastically before chuckling to himself.
Winston smirked. Lewis’s sense of humour mitigated the misery of the Gloom, and he was glad to have someone backing him up, especially on such a challenging mission. “Well then, shall we get this over with?"
"Sure. The Demons we come across in the lower levels will probably be lesser grunts working for whatever's up top, so I'd keep those Sanctium rounds until we get there. I see from your lighter you've learned the trick about natural elements in the Gloom as opposed to magical ones." He pulled a stun gun from one of his holsters. "I'm a fan of electricity, myself. Combined with your fire we should be able to clear the trash quite easily."
"Let's hope so," Winston said, taking a deep calming breath.
The two Book Wielders walked in silence until they came closer to the entrance. It was a set of large metal double doors, engraved with a mural of agonised humans being feasted upon by demons.
"Feel like knocking, or shall we just blow the fucker to bits?" Lewis asked jokingly.
"Let's take it out. They’ll be on us as soon as we're inside anyway." Winston held his free hand up in the direction of the door.
"Knew you had it in you,” Lewis laughed. “We’ll make a weapon of mass magical destruction out of you yet.” He holstered his stun gun and raised his hand towards the repulsive door.
Bright blue concentric circles appeared just in front of the Book Wielder’s hands. Glowing blue runes and elegant flowing script wove themselves within the lines, and the air rippled as the raw magical energy increased in intensity. With a recoil that sent their arms shooting back, two powerful bolts of pure magical force were sent hurtling into the doors. The bolts exploded in a pale blue blast that forced the doors inwards at an absurd speed, and shattered the surrounding stone blocks, sending dust and small rock fragments flying in all directions. Winston had been right about his suit; the trip was definitely going to ruin it.
Inhuman screeches and growls sounded from within. In a matter of seconds, the first Demon underlings charged through the hole. They were horrid man-sized creatures with purple and pink muscular bodies that looked like someone had skinned them alive. Their faces were scrunched up in expressions of pure rage and hatred, and black saliva dripped from their long razor-sharp teeth. Their eyes were triangular slits of glowing red, and instead of forearms they had huge bone scythes, as though they were a fusion of man and praying mantis.
Winston automatically struck his lighter and manipulated the fire into a torrent of flame that doused the maniacal creatures, while Lewis quickly did the same with the electricity from his stun gun and shot forks of lightning into the fray. Almost as soon as the Demon underling’s charge had begun, the fight was over. Their charred forms littered the entrance, though they still twitched with life.
"I was right," Lewis began, "the real competition is going to be upstairs."
Winston eyed the convulsing bodies. "They look like they’re still alive."
"Oh, they are. Takes a lot more than that to kill a Demon, and they'll heal up quick unless we're careful." He pulled a switch blade from his pocket. The small enchanted knife grew until it was a thin slither of evil looking metal about a meter long, and Lewis remorselessly began to slice the lesser Demons’ corpses into smaller pieces. "One good thing about working for the Trinity… they have such fun toys to play with."
Winston noticed that the bodies, limbs, and heads still quivered with life. "That doesn't seem to be working, Lewis."
Lewis retracted the blade. “Didn’t say it would, but it will stop them from getting back up in a hurry.” He kicked a few severed parts away from their respective owners and casually made for the entrance. “Come on, we better be quick about this."
Winston followed him, carefully avoiding the grotesque array of Demon entrails that adorned his path.
The inside of the tower was a large square clearing, and braziers blazed with fire that painted the stonework a sinister shade of orange and red. The ceiling was so high it was shielded in shadows, and barred windows lined the room in between broken statues. In the centre of the room was a circular platform emblazoned with a green pentagram and smaller magical runes. Scorch marks, bullet holes, and debris were everywhere, and were yet more evidence of the ferocious fight that had transpired long before their arrival. Strangely enough though, the room appeared to be repairing itself as though it was a living entity slowly healing its surface wounds. Bullets were being pushed out of their holes millimetres at a time, bits of statue and dust were crawling towards their origin points at a snail’s pace, and even the dented double doors seemed to be slowly slithering back towards the entrance.
Winston viewed the damage with awe. "Looks like the place is still ruined from the last forced entry. It must have been one hell of a fight.”
“You said it,’ Lewis agreed. “This will work out very well for us. Those mongrels we fought out front must have been freshly healed. We would’ve had a bit more of a fight on our hands if they were at full strength, just like they were when your predecessor got here."
"Let's hope the rest of the place is just as devastated," Winston replied.
"There's only one way to find out." Lewis gestured towards the platform. "Magical elevator, I'm guessing."
The Book Wielders walked towards the platform and stepped onto it. The magical engravings flared up momentarily and two green triangles appeared in the air, one pointing up and one down.
"Fancy checking out the basement?" Lewis joked.
Winston tapped the triangle for up. "No, I bloody well don’t. Tell me, how is it you can joke so much at a time like this?" he asked, as the platform rose slowly and silently into the air.
Lewis shrugged. "We're in a dangerous line of work. We could die here in the Gloom, or in a gang fight back in the real world. If we die, we die. Beats living a life of boring bullshit, working shit jobs to pay for shitty bills, and scraping just enough together for a treat every month or two. At least we can say we've lived a little when our time is up. We've played with magical powers, we’ve seen the secret world that hides in our own, and we’ve even seen a total
ly different dimension!"
Winston found, to his surprise, that he agreed almost completely with what Lewis had just said. "True, I can’t argue with you there, but don’t you think it’s a bit distracting? I mean, I’d rather not die so soon if I have the choice.”
“Do you find it distracting?” Lewis asked sourly.
“No… I meant more for yourself,” Winston replied, hoping that his curiosity hadn’t offended his new acquaintance.
“Not really, if anything it helps keep my nerves in check,” Lewis began. “I mean, how is being all stuck up, reserved, stressed out, and scared shitless going to increase your lifespan? As long as you keep your wits about you and stay careful when you have to, you don't need the other useless baggage clogging up your noggin."
Again, Winston couldn’t fault Lewis’ logic, but as they neared the next floor they both grew quiet with concentration. The elevator took them through a hole of orange and red light, into the sea of darkness that was the ceiling.
The second floor was like the first in terms of unpleasant fiery lighting and rusty iron bar windows, but the rest of the interior looked like the end result of a pyromaniac visiting a library. Burnt out remains of tall bookshelves lined the room, and the floor was covered in black and grey ashes. Just like on the first floor, the damage was receding at an immensely slow pace. However, the sheer scale of the destruction was so great it would probably take a very long time for the library to heal.
Staggering, slithering, and sliding between the charred bookshelves were disgusting half-formed Demon acolytes. They resembled skeletal humans in black robes, robbed of a limb or two in some cases, and doused in boiling tar. In this case though, the tar that they were pooled in seemed to be their very essence trying to slowly reform them. They moaned and cried out with anguished voices. One of them raised a hand and tried to send a spell of some sorts towards the Book Wielders, but only a few sparks flew from its gnarled fingertips. The failed magical energy fell to the ground before them like a flutter of fireflies.
"Aww, how cute," Lewis sniggered. "I think they want to be friends."
"Come on, let's just do this," Winston said, eager to press on.
"Allow me, mister serious." Lewis invoked the same raw destruction spell that they had used against the front of the building and directed the bolt to the centre of the conglomeration of foetal Demons.
The bolt hit home, and the acolytes flew apart in a shower of sticky black liquid and entrails that covered the entire room, including the Book Wielders.
Lewis laughed as he tried brushing some of the gloop off his face and outfit. "Hope that's not your best suit."
Winston just grumbled as he wiped the worst of the mess off his ruined suit, and tapped the ‘up’ symbol again.
"I think this will be the top floor." Lewis got out his gun and made sure it was loaded correctly. "Be ready for anything.”
“Right.” Winston also checked his gun and recalled some defensive spells that his book had taught him.
The elevator now brought them into what looked like a tyrant’s throne room. Pillars rose to the ceiling sporting long elegant blood-red banners, and in between were large arched windows covered with spiky metal grating. Torches burned with the same unpleasant flames as all the other floors, and directly ahead of them were stone steps leading to a Demon Overlord, sitting casually on a marble throne.
The Demon Overlord wore a full masquerade mask coloured black and white with woven gold patterns. It had a calm expression crafted onto it with a slight amused smirk. Its entire body was covered in a crimson cloak, except for one human-like dark purple hand that cradled a crystal chalice filled with coagulated human blood. Behind the Demon was the source of its beverage; what was left of Winston's predecessor was hanging from the ceiling in a cradle of barbed wire. His head, arms, and skin had been removed.
The Demon Overlord calmly drained its glass and spoke with a snobbish distorted drawl. "So… more refreshments have come to visit me, more lesser beings come wandering blindly into the slaughterhouse. Maybe you fools should just save me some time and kill yourselves…"
"Oh, you wish," Lewis shouted, “you are so fucked!”
“So many arrogant fools to entertain me,” the Demon purred excitedly. “He was right, this was a great place to relocate my tower. And to think, he even gave me the bait that’s bringing all the fun right to my doorstep!”
“Wait, who told you to come here?” Winston asked loudly, as for some reason that had caught his interest. “Who gave you the artefact?”
The Demon put his finger up to his mask’s lips. “Shush little lamb, save your voice for the screaming to come…”
The Overlord threw his chalice to the floor, shattering it into a thousand pieces, and chuckled behind his mask as he slowly rose from the throne. Winston immediately launched a fireball from his lighter and set its crimson cloak aflame, just as Lewis sent bolts of electricity from his stun gun straight into its face. The mask was blasted into pieces and revealed an all too human face beneath.
The dark purple creature just laughed, causing its mouth to elongate to a disgustingly abnormal size as it made the horrid metallic grinding sound of its amusement, and its long metal fangs glowed in the reflected torchlight. The Overlord's body suddenly became far more muscular as if it had been inflated like a flat tire, and its hands and feet grew sword-like claws. Its red eyes remained quite human, but they were filled with a sick, psychotic, sadistic amusement.
Lewis discarded his stun gun and began unloading precious Sanctium rounds from his real pistol. Bullets hammered into the throne as the Overlord deftly dodged them with inhuman speed. Half a clip was gone in an instant and the creature jumped from pillar to pillar, clinging to them on all fours like an animal. Winston tried to get a clear shot, but it was no good. Lewis, on the other hand, fired until his gun was spent, and it was as he reached for his spare clip that the Demon made its move.
It launched itself from the top of the nearest pillar straight into Lewis, sending them both sprawling. The Demon was on him in an instant, pinning each of his limbs with its clawed hands and feet. The Overlord's mouth grew larger and larger, like a snake dislocating its jaw, as it went to eat Lewis' head.
As this was happening, Winston was taking aim. The endless shooting practise his father had forced him through as a child now seemed like a blessing. He was far from a pro, but he was a good enough shot to put four bullets into the creature before it came for him.
"Move to the side!" Lewis cried as he rose to his feet with feline grace.
Winston dived to the side with as much speed as he could muster. The creature was much faster by far, but at least he was out of the way of Lewis' counterattack. The blonde Book Wielder summoned a thick lance of ice and threw it like a javelin into the creature's back, and it howled as it was fastened to the pillar in front of it.
The bullet wounds from Winston’s shots were starting to grow as the Sanctium ate away at the unholy creature like an ultra-powerful acid. It was still strong though, and began pushing itself backwards in an attempt to free itself.
Lewis walked over to the Overlord and raised his now loaded pistol to its wrinkled head.
The Overlord glared upwards for a moment. “…Betrayed me!” it snarled, half slurred, before Lewis unloaded the entire Sanctium clip into the creature’s head until it was nothing more than mush.
"Eat that," Lewis said sternly as he regained his composure.
"Cliché. Very, very cliché," Winston said with a relieved sigh.
"Hey, shut up. You saved my life, so I won't slap you this time," Lewis chuckled.
The rest of the Demon's body melted into a pool of black slosh. Lewis leaned over and started sniffing.
"What the hell are you doing now?" asked Winston.
"Come here. Does this Sanctium smell like bleach to you, or kitchen cleaner, or some kind of soap?" Lewis asked enthusiastically.
"It smells like dead Demon, and no, I'm not sniffing it,” Winston sa
id in disgust. “You trying to work out the secret recipe?"
"Yeah. This might help my theories. The Trinity say that Sanctium rounds are rendered inert when tampered with to prevent anyone else getting the formula, but that won't apply to spent rounds, will it? I'll gather some of this prick's remains while you search for the artefact."
The Demon Overlord's remains fizzled into nothingness, and the room began to spin with a sickening speed. Both Book Wielders held their hands to their mouths as they suppressed the urge to vomit, and fell to their knees as the fabric of the Gloom was altered around them.
Suddenly they were on the top floor of a derelict looking World GOVT building, with murky window panes and dusty desks sporting rusty old typewriters in lieu of computers. The only light came from a glowing gold feathered quill that was slowly floating down from one of the many holes in the ceiling tiles. Winston gently plucked it from the air and rested it in the palms of his hands. It was the artefact.
"Looks like those theories are going to have to wait for another time," Winston said as he walked towards the mangled remains of his predecessor, who was now slumped ungracefully on top of a desk.
"Yeah," sighed Lewis. “Well, mission accomplished. Now let's get out of here. Oh, and don't forget about the energy potion." Lewis retrieved his own vial and downed the contents in one hit.
"One second." Winston struck his lighter and cremated the old Book Wielder's remains as he drunk his potion. It tasted sweet and sugary, and put the spark back in his worn-out body and mind.
Using the quill as a source of illumination, the two Book Wielders left the building via the staircase, as the enchanted elevator had also vanished when the Demon Overlord had died. All other evidence of Demon habitation was also gone, and it seemed that the Overlord had woven all of what they had seen previously into existence. The building looked just like all the others in the Gloom. Even the damage caused before and after their arrival was no longer evident. They travelled in silence until they reached the grisly statues where they had first met.