Dark Harbour: The Tale of the Soul Searcher

by Joseph Kiel

  Larry broke his gaze from nothing and looked up at Zero to find him smiling vacantly back at him. It was less of a smile and more a smirk. At that point, he noticed the door behind Zero was shut. Not that he would be able to get up and run out of there with this leg wound.

  The slob took a couple of steps closer to Larry and crouched down in front of him. Larry could smell his foul breath. It was like a diseased rat had crawled down his throat and died.

  ‘I prefer ‘em a lot younger. But yous have to take it while yous got it! So are you going to roll over for mi then, lad? Spread those sexy, fat legs for mi? It’ll all be over soon. And then you’ll get to go.’

  ‘Go to hell.’

  Zero grabbed Larry’s mouth, and for a horrific moment he imagined that he was about to connect his lips with his. Larry flinched away from him and cowered back against the wall. With a heavy, almost choking wheeze, Zero stood up and kicked Larry’s leg. Larry screamed as he felt that burning pain again.

  ‘Roll over, fatty. It’s this or I’ll get my hammer and smash your skull in.’ He pulled the tool out from his back pocket and pounded it in his thick palm.

  ‘Then kill me.’

  ‘I’d most probably do you anyway!’

  Larry then watched as the blob of walking flesh removed his T-shirt, revealing his flabby man-breasts. His skin was sweaty and flaky and Larry knew that he would have to be dead if that thing was to be pressed against his body, if the nightmare of his youth was to be repeated.

  He began to cry. Lifetimes weren’t supposed to have this much horror in them. Larry now knew there was no God.

  Zero knelt down beside him and grabbed Larry’s belt. He began unbuckling him. ‘There, there. You know you’ll like it really. They all do. Even the little ones.’

  As Larry wailed, he didn’t hear the door to his cell being kicked in. With his eyes shut tight, he didn’t see Zero turn around and receive a sharp blow to his face from an intruder.

  Larry screamed harder when he felt him touch his shoulder, shaking him, grabbing his mouth. He knew that he’d descended into insanity when he finally opened his eyes and saw that Zero had turned into Michael.

  ‘Larry! It’s me. You’re okay, Larry.’

  Larry was speechless. He saw Vladimir behind his flatmate clutching his fist. Vladimir. Now he definitely was all right. They’d come back; they hadn’t abandoned them to the horrors of Dark Harbour. The letter was a lie.

  ‘Take him,’ Vladimir said. ‘Get him out of here.’

  ‘Larry, where’s Eddie?’ Michael asked.

  But still Larry wouldn’t talk. He just looked at the dazed slob of flesh quivering on the ground next to him.

  ‘Larry! I need to find Eddie.’

  ‘He killed him.’

  Michael went numb. Larry hobbled to his feet.

  ‘This sick bastard killed him,’ he said as he grabbed the hammer and stood over the thug. He cried: ‘This sick motherfucker killed him,’ and in between each word he dealt Zero a blow to his head with the hammer. With all of his strength.

  Michael went to stop him but on feeling Vladimir’s hand on his shoulder he froze. He could only watch as Larry took out all of his flaming fury on the murderer beneath him. Larry kept going until he’d smashed the bastard’s skull apart and brains splattered all over, until that annoying fucking smirk was wiped from his face because the bastard no longer had a face, and with his head smashed to pieces, Zero was as dead as Eddie but Larry kept hammering away to make sure he was dead and dead again.

  When the bloody mallet clanked to the ground, Larry stood silently as he looked down at what he’d done. He’d destroyed the killer but he felt empty.

  ‘Larry,’ Michael said as he gingerly put his hand on his shoulder. ‘Let’s… Let’s go.’

  Larry turned to look at his friend. He recognised that compassion on Michael’s face, the same one he’d seen that time when he was drunk and singing in the street. The same friend. A different Larry.

  ‘Come on, Diamond.’

  Larry followed him. Michael paused when he reached the door and turned back to the silent vigilante.

  ‘Are you coming?’

  ‘No. I have to find my friend.’

  ‘Will you be okay?’

  ‘Yeah. Go.’

  Supporting the lame Larry over his shoulder, Michael headed out of there, back to the refreshed world of normality outside. Vladimir, however, had more work to do. Somewhere in the warehouse there was another demon that needed to be destroyed.

  Chapter 14.11

  Shooting Henry dead apparently wasn’t part of Floyd’s plan. No, the sicko wanted to strap him into one of his old amusement rides, some sort of mini roller coaster. But Henry wasn’t going to go down easily. He fended him off as best as he could despite the welling pain in his chest.

  It felt just like an elephant was standing on him and Henry knew where he’d heard that description before. He’d read it in some health magazine, or maybe some doctor was talking about it on breakfast television one morning. It was the sign of a heart attack.

  Floyd banged the handle of his gun down on Henry. ‘Get on the stupid ride, you arse!’

  ‘Get… lost,’ Henry wheezed.

  The pain swelled even more. Not just an elephant. Now it was an entire building. Henry smiled at Floyd, knowing the arrest of his cardia would thwart his silly final plans.

  ‘My boys… they will come for you. They’ll come…’ he said and then collapsed to the ground.

  Floyd kicked his body. ‘Get up! No! You useless idiot!’

  But Henry was dead. Just as Floyd was about to shoot his stupid dead body he caught a black shape in the corner of his eye. He turned round to see one of the young Fires standing before him.

  ‘Too late, Vladimir. You’re…’

  ‘Drop the gun,’ Vladimir ordered.

  The impish grin formed on the agent of destruction’s face. ‘Just you, is it?’

  ‘I said put the gun down.’

  ‘Well, well. I guess I have another Fire to put out tonight!’ He raised his gun at Vladimir.

  The fool. Vladimir stood like an angelic statue as Floyd fired three bullets at him. And then three more. And then the rest of the bullets in the clip.

  At Vladimir’s feet, which were rooted to the ground as firmly as ever, was Henry’s Koch. He picked it up and pointed it at Floyd.

  Confused, Floyd reached into his pocket and brought out his other Glock. He fired some of the bullets at Vladimir but again they had no effect.

  ‘Zero!’ Floyd cried as he started shuffling backwards.

  Vladimir aimed his gun at him. In all of his work as an Angel of Karma, Vladimir had never fired a gun at anyone before. He could see the rotten, black soul before him, his wicked acts having generated the destructive energies that swarmed in his aura like flies, and yet strangely it felt to Vladimir that he was holding a gun at himself. He lowered the Koch slightly and shot Floyd in the kneecap. As he did so, he could almost feel the bullet searing through his own soul.

  Laughing like a madman, Floyd toppled backwards onto the ground. He giggled through his groans of pain like a school kid whose playground stunt had gone a little wrong. Slowly he dragged himself away leaving a wet smear of blood over the concrete floor.

  With the demon dealt with, Vladimir knelt beside his master and saw the nothingness in his eyes. The grey suit was now the same colour as Henry’s face. He looked just the same as his brother and his grandfather had looked, like some prosthetic model in a Hollywood studio that could never fully look like a human being without having an aura. Without having a soul. But, again, this was no movie.

  Vladimir’s hands curled round into fists, and as he was about to hammer them into the ground he thought about his bandaged left hand and the nasty pain that would cause him.

  There was nothing to do with the anger. Another loved one taken away from him. He wasn’t going to accept it.

  And he didn’t have to.

  Not with the powe
rs he had. The special gift that had been given to him. The gift that had unlocked the door.

  Vladimir placed one hand over Henry’s chest and another over his forehead. His life-force had just left him and so Vladimir only had to reach into that infinity and somehow draw him back, somehow channel those vibrations back into this realm.

  The violet glow exploded in his eyes, swirling around like spirits in the ether, and it felt like every atom in the universe was within his perceptions. It felt like every soul he’d ever known was sweeping through him.

  His hands suddenly felt very warm as though he was holding them over a flame. Vladimir saw the colour filling Henry’s eyes again and then felt the beat under his palm. A sudden gasp of air passed through the old Seraph’s lips and Vladimir sighed in exhaustion.

  ‘Vladimir…’ Henry murmured.

  ‘It’s okay now.’

  ‘I saw lights… colours.’

  ‘What the fuck?’ Floyd boomed.

  The karmic angel rose to his feet and turned to see that Floyd had propped himself up. He was no longer laughing but looking on with a hateful sneer.

  ‘What the fuck happened?’ Floyd demanded.

  ‘You search for enlightenment, Floyd?’ Vladimir asked him as he floated over to him.

  ‘He was dead!’

  ‘Why were you looking for the Akasa Stone? Why? Someone like you?’

  ‘So I could destroy everyone’s dream. Make them think there’s no hope in this world. It’s the will of God.’

  ‘So it’s the will of God that I’m going to shoot you,’ Vladimir said as he raised the gun at him.

  ‘Go on then.’

  He paused, wanting more answers. ‘Questions first, Floyd.’

  ‘Want to find out if I’ve got the Akasa Stone, do you? It’s not here. So go ahead and shoot me. Either way you lost. The Harbour Master has it. Took it off you, you fuckwit.’

  ‘That what he told you?’

  ‘He wouldn’t lie to me.’

  Vladimir smiled and then knelt down beside him. He shook his head. ‘He is lying to you.’

  Vladimir undid the top buttons of his black shirt. Pulling the fabric away he revealed a violet gemstone hanging from a cord of wooden beads. Floyd knew instantly that he was looking at the Akasa Stone.

  ‘You bastard,’ he hissed.

  Vladimir stood and then held the gun at Floyd’s face. It was time to kill him, time to send this black soul away. He knew that the monster had murdered Eddie but somehow he still couldn’t make his finger pull back that trigger. Not even when Floyd began laughing at him.

  ‘Oh, you hero! Get this, everyone! Vladimir…’ But the agent of destruction never finished his sentence.

  Floyd’s left eye exploded in a mush of blood as the bullet tore into it. The monster collapsed limply to the ground. Extinguished.

  Vladimir didn’t realise his gun had fired but then he turned round and saw Henry standing there with a Glock in his hand.

  ‘I was going to do it.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Henry replied, his eyes immediately focussing on the gemstone around Vladimir’s neck. ‘You had it all this time?’

  ‘I just needed another second.’

  ‘How long?’

  Vladimir turned back to Floyd’s body and now shot him. ‘See? I can do it!’ A hollow silence followed the sound of the gunshot. ‘I’ve owned it since I was a teenager.’

  ‘How in God’s name did you get it?’

  That was another secret hidden behind those button eyes. ‘I was going to shoot him, Henry! I would have done it!’

  ‘I don’t…’ Henry said, shaking his head as he looked at the Akasa Stone.

  ‘Tell me you believe me. Tell me!’

  ‘You had it!’

  ‘Yeah and it saved you. It’s what saved me.’

  ‘All this time? You lied to me! How could you do this to me?’

  ‘Henry…’

  ‘You betrayed me! I can’t believe you betrayed me!’

  ‘You got what you wanted. I did what I had to do. Just leave me alone.’

  With that he began to shrink away.

  ‘Vladimir, I’m sorry. Vladimir…’

  But Vladimir didn’t stop, and the only thing that Henry could wonder was if he would ever see him again.

  Chapter 14.12

  The defeated Power lay in a puddle of blood and rain, motionless, like a whale washed up on the shore. The Goliath slain by a greater power. Devlan could see he was still breathing so he put one of his claws to Jake’s throat. One quick twitch and he would rip it open.

  The Adam’s apple was right between his fingertips and his claws sliced into the skin like a carving knife sinking into the Sunday roast. Once he nipped open the artery the blood would slowly pour out of him, washing away into the drains, his life-force pouring into the sewers.

  It felt cowardly to kill a man like this, but Devlan knew how to look after himself. To survive in this town he’d had to be ruthless. He’d learnt about the cold spirit of humanity long ago, people’s prejudices thrown in his face all the time, like splinters of glass injected into his hardened heart. When people looked at Devlan all they saw was a wretched devil, someone who should belong only in a horror film.

  Something caught his eye: a shard of wood from the galloping horse. Devlan suddenly felt deflated. It was an antique, an 1890s classic, built by the renowned fairground ride manufacturer Savages. Devlan knew each of its pulleys and pinions gears, having maintained its smooth operation over the years, making sure it worked each summer for the tourists that flocked to the seaside.

  Looking at the fragments scattered across the ground, he could see this was going to be some repair job, not that Floyd was going to ring him up in the morning and ask him to come patch it up.

  Poor Perrin. That was the name of the broken horse, its name inscribed down the side of its mane.

  Devlan got to his feet and approached the carousel. Hopping back onto the moving platform he went over to the control chamber that he and Jake had smashed into earlier. That didn’t look too bad. At least all Perrin’s friends continued to bob up and down rhythmically to the music that cheerfully thumped and tinged.

  A strange reverie suddenly swept through him like a ghostly breath in a still room. He began to imagine what it must have been like if he’d had a normal childhood, if his mother had taken him to the seaside amusements like the normal kids. He wondered what it would have been like to sit on this ride and go round and round. If only his soul had landed in a different life instead of this aberrant mess. If only he had a normal soul.

  It was such a peculiar feeling, one that soon turned to sadness. He reached forward and pressed some buttons, killing the ride and the band organ. Just as the music stopped and the carousel started to slow, he felt something grip around his neck.

  Something very strong.

  Devlan reached a claw behind himself but he could only swipe at thin air. Whatever was holding him was just slightly out of reach. As he felt the sides of his windpipe pressing against each other, and as he stumbled around between the twisted poles of barley, he realised that, incredulously, there was no way he could shift this person.

  Looking back over the tarmac he saw that Jake was no longer lying there. The bastard. How had he woken up so quickly? Devlan cursed himself for not anticipating it. He should have kept an eye on him, especially as he’d been upwind.

  There was nothing he could say, no more words he could bring out.

  Can’t breathe…

  Devlan began to jerk his body around but Jake would not budge.

  What’s he doing? Doesn’t he know when a fight is over?

  Flashes of Devlan’s long life began to appear in his mind. Endless days of cold and rain. Stalking rabbits in the woods for food. The shaky whispers under the breaths of strangers.

  What is that freak? What in God’s name is he?

  Rummaging through a dustbin and finding the kid’s book. Something about a boy in a school play where he wanted t
o be a green kangaroo. He had memorised the inscription on the first page.

  To Thomas. Merry Christmas love Nanna.

  Who was Thomas? Who? And why had he thrown his book into the garbage?

  Why? God fucking damn it!

  And why had Devlan kept that book in his pocket ever since? What the hell will they think when they find his body and see it on him?

  They’d know that Devlan had never woken up on Christmas Day to find a stocking full of presents. He’d never had any happy birthdays, no telegram from the King when he’d turned a hundred, and he’d never had one of those cards people got when they left their job and everyone signed it and told them how much they will be missed.

  And now there’s not even any air.

  Just the cold horrors that inhabited his mind like flies crawling over a carcass. In a world where love showered down like raindrops but drained away into the gutters.

  As Jake pressed even harder against his neck, Devlan could feel his mouth smiling. It was a strange possibility that he hadn’t hated life as much as he’d thought.

  The glow of Devlan’s eyes began to fade. There was nothing he could do and so his body went limp. Jake held him for a few more seconds before releasing his iron grip and Devlan’s body collapsed to the ground like a sack of concrete.

  Chapter 14.13

  Henry stuffed his handkerchief over his mouth. Flesh still dribbled out of the other end of the mincing machine, a splattering of blood everywhere. He knew that Floyd had put at least one of the two lads through it, but it was impossible to tell which one.

  He saw the cell and approached it. The door was hanging on one hinge. In the corner of the room was a dog that had been shot in the head, and next to him was some guy who was also clearly dead as his head was too bashed in for Henry to even recognise him. Seeing as Vladimir had bottled it when it came to shooting Floyd, he figured that this wasn’t his work.

  Had the other Guardian escaped? If only he could talk to Vladimir and debrief him. He thought about phoning him, but then smiled wryly to himself when he remembered that it was National Nobody Pick The Fucking Phone Up Day.