The Storyteller of Pain

by Loren Molloy

  The three of them pushed through the now open door to see a loathsome creature standing over Doris. He was at least 7 feet tall and much too thin, with skin that was being pulled too tightly over a skeleton. His skin looked like ancient papyrus paper from Egyptians days. The skin was pulled too far back from his eyes and teeth, showing too much of both, too clearly. Both his eyes and teeth were two sizes larger than was humanly possible.

  The creature was wearing a double breasted blood red suit. His hat and shirt were the same color as his eyes and teeth, black. The creature was holding the intercom microphone in one abnormally long hand, acting like a game show host.

  “Well, well, well. What do we have here? More contestants for our show? Well listeners, you’re in for a treat or should I say I’m in for several treats.” He cackled at his own joke.

  Doris was in a chair in front of the creature. Blood was pouring onto the floor from her thigh wound. You could see straight to the bone beneath it. She kept trying to move and get up but it looked like invisible straps were keeping her trapped in the chair.

  “None of you are leaving this room alive so... SIT DOWN!” The man-like demon roared.

  An unseen force smashed into the three of them, sending them crashing into the far wall. Lily felt her skull hit the wall forcefully. The last thing she saw was the door slamming shut again before she blacked out from the impact.

  Screaming woke Lily up. It was Doris! Lily forced her eyes open. The room swam for several moments and Lilian felt like she was going to be sick. It wasn’t until she did focus on what was before her that she actually did get sick.

  Doris was missing large chunks of flesh from all over her body. The scream she had heard must have been her last. The creature had her tongue in one hand, holding it above his head, tickling the tip of her tongue with the tip of his black tongue. Doris’ head had fallen back and her dead eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling. Her jaw was wrenched and ripped open so her chin was resting now on her clavicle.

  The sick bastard made eye contact with Lily. All the while, he was basically French kissing a detached blood-dripping tongue. It was all too much to see. Her stomach revolted. She was sick all over the floor next to her, again.

  “Ahh, I see you’re finally awake! Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new contestant coming right up after I consume my prize.” The demonic man then locked eyes with Lily. Never leaving her eyes, he continued to take tiny bites until the whole tongue was devoured.

  Lily couldn’t look away. She tried but the creature didn’t allow it. She felt that same awful unseen force holding her in place; a force keeping her from looking anywhere other than where he wanted her to look. Finally, he was done and began to painstakingly, slowly lick each of his abnormally long fingers as if he had just consumed a rack of ribs and had sauce all over his fingers.

  It wasn’t BBQ sauce. It was ‘Doris’ all over his fingers. He smiled at her while he did it. At last he stopped. Lily had fully regained control of her vision. She looked at Doris. There was flesh missing from all over her body and face.

  ‘How long was I unconscious,’ she thought. ‘I’m so sorry Doris. I came here to save you and I failed miserably,’ she thought to Doris. Tears poured down her face. Lily looked over to see if John or Vincent had awoken yet and screamed. They weren’t there! There were two spots of blood from where their own skulls must have crashed into the wall but that was it. They were gone. She frantically scanned the room. They weren’t in the room at all.

  The creature cackled again. “Worried for your friends? How sweet! I only have a taste for the ladies, so I gave them to a companion of mine. I’m sure your friends are having loads of fun with him right now. You, on the other hand, are all mine. I can smell that you are going to be absolutely delicious, especially that tongue of yours. I’m sure it’ll taste as sweet as candy.”

  With a flick of his wrist, Doris’ dead body was flung out of the chair and into a corner. Lily watched her body fly and crash into the previous victim’s body, which was in the same corner of the room, starting to decompose. Seconds later, Lily felt that horrible invisible force, lift her from the floor and carry her into the same chair Doris had just died in.

  Lily tried to struggle but couldn’t. She could scream though and she did at the top of her lungs. The asylum echoed with her screams.

  “Who are you expecting to save you? There’s no one who can. Not now! You’re doomed to be my next meal,” the demon said.

  Lily tried to think of something that could save her. She couldn’t. She couldn’t move her arms nor her legs at all.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen out there in radio land, let’s welcome our next contestant. A delicious little morsel named Lily. Say ‘Hi’ to all the good folks out there listening.”

  The creature brought the intercom closer to Lily so she could speak into the microphone. She just stared at the demon defiantly for a moment. If she was going to die, it wasn’t going to be while playing his sick game.

  “This isn’t a game show and I’m not a fucking contestant!” She yelled at him. She then locked her jaw tight and just glared at him.

  “Stupid Bitch! Tell the audience your name!” He bellowed.

  He couldn’t stand her ruining the illusion. She could see it. ‘Good,’ she thought, not giving him one moment of satisfaction. All Lily did in response was arch one eyebrow at him while continuing her silent glare. The demon roared with anger and hit her across the face.

  Lily saw stars and tasted blood but still didn’t speak. She considered spitting the blood pooling in her mouth at him, but realized he’d enjoy that too much. She swallowed it instead. She wasn’t even going to give him the reward of seeing her spit out the blood. ’Might excite him too much,’ she thought.

  Realizing that didn’t change anything, the demon roared in fury again. Lilian thought to herself, ‘Demons and serial killers seem to have one thing in common. They both have a set scenario they must carry out with every victim. A ritual that has to be exactly the same every time. To stray from that, even in the smallest way, causes them to be off kilter and become enraged.’

  Most serial killers take some kind of trophy whether it is jewelry, pictures, locks of hair, fingers, or in this case, women’s tongues. She had one serial killer when she first began the job that was found with over 30 different pairs of women’s lips in his ice box. He claimed he had to kiss each pair of lips ‘Goodnight’, every night before bed, otherwise his ladies would think he stopped loving them.

  This demonic serial killer collected women’s tongues, except he ate his trophies. That was his prize. The thing he desired most, and everything up to that moment of consumption, was his version of foreplay for himself.

  For one fleeting moment Lily wondered, ‘When serial killers died, did they become demons?’ She didn’t have time to contemplate it because the door to the room burst open. The light from the hall made the figure in the doorway impossible to make out. She’s saved she thought.

  “Stop at once! I command you!” the voice boomed. The creature turned and looked at the man and howled, “Noooo!”

  “Yes! I command you to stop. You don’t have permission to harm this one. You know that. It was made clear to all of you that she is Doctor Page’s prize!”

  Wilbur Wurthington stepped into the room as he finished his booming command. A malicious sneer appeared on his face when he locked eyes on her.

  “Nooooo!” It was Lily’s turn to scream.

  “Oh Yes!” Mr. Wurthington said in a sick, sultry tone looking her up and down. It was the Head of the Board of Health, Lunacy, and Charity. Lilian never even imagined that man would be here, but it made sense. Lily had a flash image back to those men in robes, chanting around that evil circle. They must have come here.

  Wilbur said to the demon, “Don’t worry. I come with a replacement for your wonderful radio game show. It is the best show on the air.”

  “It’s the only thing on the air,” Lily retorted.

  “Becau
se it’s the best, so why bother with the rest!” Wilbur said with a laugh. He was obviously kissing the demon’s ass or maybe he really did enjoy the broadcast.

  “Damn right!” the demon said.

  “Here!” Wilbur had backed out into the hallway only momentarily, and stepped back into the room, dragging an unconscious woman behind him.

  “You can have her!” Wilbur dropped the leg he was holding.

  It was Beatrice. Her blazing wild, red hair and orange freckles were unmistakable.

  The leg mashed down onto the floor. A pained whimper escaped the unconscious woman, proving to the demon, she was truly only unconscious. The whimper of pain from her had caused the demon to shutter with sick pleasure.

  “Sure. Fine. Take her and go. My audience is getting bored and the show must go on!”

  “Yes indeed!” Wilbur said with a smirk.

  The demon looked at Lily and with a sick smile he whispered, “Goodbye.”

  Lily wanted to scream but before she got a chance, the demon twitched his hand and she felt a powerful slap across her face. She hit the floor with a massive crack. Her head felt like it was going to explode from the impact. The last thing she saw was Wilbur Wurthington’s shoes walking towards her.

  John awoke to the sounds of screaming all around him. His head was pounding worse than any hangover he ever had. He could feel the wound at the back of his skull throbbing from where he hit the wall. The images of the last moments before he blacked out flew through his mind.

  “Lily!” John cried out and tried to look around for her.

  “She’s not here.” A voice from the darkness said.

  John tried to look around again but his head wouldn’t turn. His arms wouldn’t move nor his legs. His vision was still blurry. John’s mind knew that voice instantly. It was a voice he had only heard once, and for only a few moments, but it would never leave his mind. It was the one voice he truly had been praying not to hear ever again. John’s eyes were huge with fear.

  The man emerged from the darkness and stepped in front of John. It was unmistakable. The man bowed in front of him with a huge grin on his face. “I’m glad to see you remember me.”

  “How could I forget?” John exclaimed

  The man laughed with pride. “You flatter me boy but if that is true then you’ll surely remember what they called me. Tell me boy, what is it they called me?”

  John swallowed down the fear that was choking him and said, “Mr. Oblivion... The Devil of Louisiana.”

  The demon laughed joyously at that. “Ha! Ah, I do love the names you mortals give. Such power in a name. Such fear pouring from your lips when it’s spoken. Funny how you humans think. Funnier still is how all you humans beg. Funniest is how all you look while you’re bleeding out.” The demon cackled.

  “Why are you here?” John asked panicked.

  “What? You think I’m only in New Orleans? Just because of a name, you think I’m stuck there? Ha! I’m immortal bitch! I’m everywhere. I go anywhere I want. Anywhere people are looking for trouble, for power, for dark magic. I’m there! They call me ’The Devil of Louisiana’ but I have so many names in so many different places!” The demon said with pride.

  “I’m called Mtu Kifo, The Death Man in Africa; Chert Cheloveka, the Devil of Man in Russia; and Yang Gelap, The Dark One in Indonesia to just name a few from this century. It’s only you foolish mortals who think we have only one name and are tied to one place. All my dark brothers and sisters have many names. Some are just more popular than others.

  “So you’re The Devil?” John asked terrified

  “No, you stupid fool. I am not The Master! I am just one of his Legion of Evil. You ridiculous mortals! Why would a King do any dirty work when he has thousands upon thousands to do it for him? No, I am just one Soldier of Satan,” the demon said with a reverent bow.

  ‘That’s it. Keep him talking’, John thought to himself. Buy yourself time. If he could just get into his pockets, he thought with frustration.

  He tried moving his arms again. The struggling caught the demons attentions.

  “Stupid human. What good do you think struggling will do for you? There isn’t rope or handcuffs holding you, but my very will. What do you think you would even do if you were free? Fight me?” The demon laughed very hard at that.

  The demon walked up to John and stared him straight in the eyes. John tried to clear his mind and give his blankest expression. The demon just scoffed.

  “I still don’t understand why you’re here, here at Danvers Lunatic Asylum. Why you and your brethren would be part of the 13 from that book.”

  “And I’d tell you... why?” the demon asked in disgust.

  “Because I’m going to die anyway? Because I’m just some lowly mortal who can’t do anything to stop it anyway?” John said with his best shrug.

  ‘Because when you’re talking your will lessens its hold over me,’ John thought. Seemed to John, focus was key. He had noticed every time the demon talked, John was able to move ever so slightly. Maybe if his focus was on something else, John could break free and run.

  He couldn’t stop thinking of Lily. She was somewhere. Maybe still with that sick demonic game show host. He prayed that she had gotten away from him, safely, somehow. He couldn’t hear the intercom from where they were. Several parts of the hospital weren’t connected to it. Too costly to bother with. He hoped she was safe, hiding in her office. He knew in his heart she wouldn’t hide if she was free from that thing. She would be looking from him, but he still felt comfort from the image of her safe in her office.

  The demon was staring off and then shook his head. “You mortals! You always want information even when you’ll be dead minutes later.” The demon scoffed again. “Fine. You want to know. Because of a pact made over a thousand of your years ago.”

  “A pact?” John asked bewildered. It was working, he felt it! The control of force on his arms was less than before.

  “Yes!” The demon blasted with rage. “A stupid pact between mortals and our side. Whomever holds that grimoire, receives their hearts darkest desires and in turn, we get the things we want. One hand washes the other if you will.”

  “What is it you want?” John asked but was thinking to himself, ’Almost. Almost there.’ He only needs to become a bit more distracted and I might be able to have use of my arms again.

  “Me? Your blood of course. Most powerful essence there is. You humans don’t realize the power blood has. The energy and even magic of it. It’s one of the most powerful ingredients used in spells, and for me, it’s the most delicious beverage I could ever drink. It’s like your coffee and alcohol combined but it’s even more than that. It’s fuel for me. It’s where that novelist, Bram Stoker, got his vampire fable from that you humans love so much. Many of my kind devour your species’ blood.

  The fool even called him what he truly was, a demon, but you mortals don’t want to believe demons exist. God, yes. Angels, sure, but demons, No. We exist just as much, yet you creatures need us to be figments of a sick mind or some fable, instead of the reality.”

  “Reality?” John asked

  “We are always around you. We exist. Always have! We are the faces that haunt your nightmares. We are the shadows that lurk down the dark alleys, waiting. We are the beings that cause chaos, pain, and death. You fools blame God, yet it was and always will be the Soldiers of Satan who are doing these things.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we can. Because we must. Because we desire to!” The demon bellowed.

  His rage broke the focus on his binding over John. John felt it the moment it was gone and jumped up. The demon just sighed.

  “Congratulations. Now what, you fool? You going to try and run or even more stupidly, are you going to try and fight me? Either way, you’re dead. You just don’t realize it yet!”

  John just looked down dejected and put his hands in his pockets. ’They were still in there. Thank goodness’, he thought as he popped the toppers off each
jar. He looked up at the Devil of Louisiana and said coldly, “I’d rather die fighting!”

  With that he threw the contents of each bottle at the demon, covering him with salt and brick dust. The demon gasped, breathing it in as well. John then removed the two stones he was given and held them out in front of him.

  John yelled, “Be gone Demon! I command you to leave this world and go back to the world you came from and never return. With the power of God and the power of the Light, make it so. Now, this very night!” The words had just flashed in his mind and flew from his mouth.

  Light blasted from the stones and hit the demon full force. The red brick dust was already consuming him, like red liquid wax or hot lava, as the salt was eating away at him like acid. White light flew up and over his body like lightning from a bottle.

  The only thing the demon was able to say, with a confused look was, “How?” before screaming in agony. The demon exploded into particles of light and ash. John collapsed onto the floor exhausted.

  ‘I don’t know how,’ John thought, ‘but I am truly grateful’. He panted several times. His adrenaline was racing through his whole body. The words were just suddenly in his mind and without thought he had spoken them. He didn’t care in that moment how, he just was thrilled it had worked. Somehow he had faith and believed in the words he had spoken as he was saying them. He sat there on the floor and thought, ‘Different ammo for a different kind of enemy, was so right.’ His heart was beating almost out of his chest. He worked on slowing his breathing before he blacked out.

  Vincent awoke to the deafening sound of silence. It was pitch black. Not a single shred of light was able to be seen. He might as well have his eyes closed for the lack of anything to be seen. The silence was maddening. It scared him. He felt around to discover what he was laying on. It was cold, metal, and flat. The smell of formaldehyde was too prevalent not to know where he was. He was in the morgue. He tried to move off the table but his feet hit something solid.

  ‘Oh no,’ Vincent thought. ‘Please no! I can’t be trapped in here!’ He began to panic. He never told anyone his fear of confinement nor his irrational fear of silence. Something knew. Some thing had to have known to lock him inside of the morgue’s body lockers. He began to panic even more. He couldn’t breathe. Suddenly it felt as if there was no air.