The Ruined Man

by Jason DeGray

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “Both,” Ragnar said and slowly opened his eyes. “It means getting the trick is easier and the results are more potent. Remember when we summoned Faye? The way our voices charged the air?”

  “Yeah,” said Wolf, recalling that surreal experience with a shudder.

  “Well, at certain times or under certain circumstances, like on the spring equinox or under a full moon, the veil is thinned. When that happens, the trick moves into the world without having to be drawn here. It affects people without their even knowing. That’s why full moons supposedly make people go crazy. It’s why werewolves only transform under certain conditions. It’s why our ancestors revered these days.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this nutty crap,” Wolf grumbled.

  “Yes, you will. You already are,” said Ragnar then cocked his head. “Put out the light. Someone is coming.”

  ***

  Trooper Lane got a call from the gas station’s owner, Buddy Preston.

  “Someone pulled into the motel across the street,” the station owner said.

  “Who?” Lane frequently had to clear out teenagers or curious travelers snooping around the property.

  “Couldn’t tell. Charger with tinted windows. Probably just some snoopers. But just the same.”

  “Yeah. Thanks Buddy. I’ll check it out.” Lane drove the short distance into town and just as Preston had said, there was a black Charger parked and poorly concealed behind the motel. He could see movement in one of the rooms and approached with caution. He announced himself and the light instantly went out, plunging the scene into darkness.

  Being from a rural village, Lance Lane was unused to potentially dangerous situations. The closest he’d ever gotten to confrontation was when Gary Johnson, the town drunk, got too belligerent and rowdy. But he had an uneasy feeling about whoever was inside. The fact that they refused to surrender or even acknowledge his presence only made him more nervous about their intention. He drew his firearm and spoke again.

  “I said, this is the police. Come out slowly with your hands in the air!” His heart pounded frantically and felt like it was going to burst from his chest. He was plastered next to the room’s back window when something flew through it and landed with a soft thump next to his feet. He squealed and rolled aside, thinking it was a grenade. But no explosion happened. Embarrassed and a little curious, he inched his way toward the object and nudged it with his foot.

  “What the hell?”

  Lane was a hunting man and recognized deer bones unnaturally arranged into a fist-sized sphere and held together with strands of sinew. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. Something about it captivated him—fascinated him beyond all reason. A tiny light flashed in the center of the hollow bone sphere. “What the…?” He looked harder and the light grew and grew until it consumed his vision. He couldn’t look away. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. He was frozen. The last thing Trooper Lance Lane remembered was panic and then he was hopelessly lost in the omnipresent light.

  ***

  “Deer in Headlights,” laughed Jonas when he heard the officer collapse. “Great name for it, don’t you think?”

  “One of Caine’s trinkets?” Wolf growled with disapproval.

  Jonas nodded. “He’s quite the talisman crafter.”

  “How long will he be out?”

  “Indefinitely. Depends on the potency of the relic really.”

  “How long?”

  “Anywhere from a few hours until…well, death. And since it was one of Caine’s, I don’t think his chances look good.”

  “So now we’re cop killers?” Wolf’s scars flushed crimson.

  “Hey now, don’t look at it like that. I didn’t kill him. Just put him into a coma. If he gets found, and he will, they’ll hook him up to machines until he wakes up. If he dies, they’ll think he died after falling into an inexplicable coma.”

  “I’m still trying to figure out which side you’re actually on,” Wolf said.

  “Don’t,” Ragnar advised. “You’ll only kill him if you do and we need him for the time being.”

  “Gee, thanks, master,” Jonas snapped sarcastically.

  Ragnar nodded. “The All-Father uses who he will.” Then, “It looks like someone knows we’re here. We have to move now.”

  Wolf nodded in agreement. “Fuck it. Change of plans. We’re taking the car.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Barber didn’t follow Spangler when she turned off at Sol Ranch outside of Encino. Instead, he drove the extra couple of miles into town and stopped at the gas station.

  “Can I help ya?” asked Preston as Barber strode in.

  The detective flashed his badge. “I’m detective Frank Barber,” he said. “Just needing a few answers.”

  “Of course, detective. What can I help you with?”

  “Sol Ranch. Know of it?”

  Preston nodded. “Sure do. Just up the road a spell.”

  “Who owns it?”

  “Well, the Reverend Jamie Martinez used to. Up till his passing some months back.”

  Barber remembered. Reverend Martinez, pastor at Grace Pentecostal Church, was a prominent and well-loved figure in the community with many powerful ties. The news reported that Martinez was discovered in his bed at home and died of natural causes. There was a very public closed-casket funeral for the well-loved religious figure. His reputation and his secrets remained intact and went to the grave with him. Jamie Martinez never looked better in the public’s eyes.

  “Who runs it now?”

  “Far as I know, his boy Sven.”

  “Sven? Martinez had a son named Sven?”

  “Weren’t his blood. Was his adopted son after the boy’s parents passed.”

  “What goes on up there?”

  “’Bout what you’d expect. It’s a ranch. Plenty of ranchin’. Why? Lookin’ to get outta the big city?”

  “Something like that. One last thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I need a pack of Camel Lights.”

  Barber paid for his smokes and drove off. Preston picked up the phone.

  ***

  Barber was stopped half a mile down the dirt road leading to the ranch. Two black SUVs crashed from the brush and blocked his path. Armed men converged on the car and one tapped on his window with the barrel his assault rifle. Barber rolled down the window and flashed his badge. “Detective Barber. APD.”

  “What are you doing here, detective?”

  “I need to see Sven.”

  The guard stepped away from the car and spoke into his walkie-talkie. Barber strained to hear, but couldn’t make out a word. After a brief conversation, he stepped back to the car. “My apologies, detective. Please follow us.”

  CHAPTER 25

  “Shit. I’m out of cigarettes,” Wolf said. He’d hidden his car closer to Sol Ranch off a nearby dirt road.

  “I told you to stop at the gas station before. I wanted a coke,” Jonas whined.

  “Here.” Ragnar handed him one of his rolled cigarettes.

  “Thanks. Let’s get this party started,” he said as he lit the smoke. “The ranch is a little over a mile due east. The plan is to skirt around the property and come at the house from the back. Agreed?” Ragnar and Jonas nodded. “Good. We gotta stay low. We don’t have the cover of the mesa to hide our approach. Let’s go.”

  The trio of trespassers had just crossed the highway onto Sol Ranch’s property when the shadows came to life. Half-lifers materialized out of nowhere and quickly fell on the intruders. Jonas and Wolf recognized some of them as Faye’s, but many more had since been added to replenish their numbers. Among them were the mangled, burnt corpses of Senator Stapleton’s guards.

  Jonas quickly drew the repulsion glyph on the ground in front of him to no effect. The partially dead kept coming at them. “It’s not working! Why isn’t it working?”

  In response, the half-dead monstrosities swarmed the
m, clawing, biting, and punching with unholy energy.

  “I seriously hate this shit!” screamed Wolf as he opened fire with the shotgun. Living corpses flew in all directions only to clamber back to their feet and renew their attacks.

  Ragnar ignored most of his assailants and methodically grabbed half-lifers by the throat and traced crosses into their foreheads. The simple, yet powerful glyph burned holes into the abominations’ heads and they fell to the ground, smoke billowing from their orifices, and didn’t rise again. Wolf and Jonas picked up on this and followed the warrior-shaman’s lead.

  But it still wasn’t enough. The sheer number of them was overwhelming. Jonas was the first on the ground. He thrashed and flailed, screaming until Faye’s bracelet was ripped from his wrist and broken into pieces. As the bracelet shattered, everything suddenly froze. A demonic rushing of wind whipped about and the ethereal Faye appeared hovering above the scene.

  “Honestly, Jonas. I don’t know what’s worse. The void of Hell or the emptiness of the space in between.” She was being sarcastic, of course. Though the space between is empty, it isn’t the void. It’s more like a waiting room. A very bright, white waiting room. Being there is like being perpetually stuck in a doctor’s office where your name never gets called and all the magazines suck.

  During her stay in the space between, Faye had some time to mull over things. Free from the torments wrought upon her soul by the Lord of Murder, she returned to some semblance of her old self. She remembered who she was and the things done to her and her loved ones, humiliating and debasing things that sparked a fury in her that would not be denied. Faye wanted revenge. She wanted those who tortured her and her loved ones to suffer. Her release gave her that opportunity. She erupted from the bracelet wailing like a banshee. Then she evoked her trick and the disembodied spirit of Faye Robinson transformed from a harmless, tortured spirit into something to be feared.

  “Faye! Help us!” Jonas beseeched the freed spirit.

  “Help you? Against what?” Her dead eyes scanned the crowd of half-lifers staring dumbly into the sky. “Are these my children? My beautiful creations?”

  At the sight of their mistress, those half-lifers created by Faye (numbering a little less than half), fell to their knees groveling. The others, in service to Caine and his monstrous twins, shuffled around uncertainly.

  “Mistress! Have you come back to torment us? To punish us for failing you?” wailed the vato that had stolen Wolf’s gun. “Tenga misericordia!”

  The sound of a spirit laughing is a terrible one. It is a sound born of callousness and flavored with malice. It offers no comfort or pretension. “Mercy? For what? What did you do? You failed me and because of that, I died. You stood idly by as my corpse was defiled. Then you followed my murderer and ultimately mauled my consort, my last living link to the beautiful world of the flesh, and you have the nerve to expect mercy?”

  “We had no choice!” cried the half-lifer. “When you passed Caine forced us into his service.”

  “Excuses!” she reached toward the vato with an ethereal hand and pulled his soul from his partially-live corpse. The doomed half-lifer wailed as Faye devoured its remaining essence, relishing the influx of energy she received.

  “Forgive us, mistress!” the rest pleaded in unison.

  “I won’t forgive you. But I will give you the opportunity to redeem yourselves. Serve me again. For all time.”

  “Tell us what to do!”

  “Fall on your false brethren, the ones created by the heathen, Albert Caine. Destroy them in my name. My will demands it!”

  And they did just that. Faye’s half-lifers turned on Caine’s creations and violence erupted. Wolf took a moment to reclaim his gun from the vato’s corpse and then he and his companions broke through the skirmishers and were confronted with quickly approaching headlights.

  “Behind that rock!” Wolf said and they ducked aside.

  A black SUV sped by and stopped in front of the battling half-lifers. Three mercenaries jumped out, weapons trained on the abominations.

  “Why are they fighting each other?” asked one. “I didn’t think they were supposed to do that.”

  “What’s that?” asked a second and pointed to Faye’s floating form which was growing more substantial with the consumption of every dead half-lifer that fell at her feet.

  They never got their answers. At Faye’s direction, the half-lifers turned on them and the soldiers of fortune died screaming as they were rent limb from limb. But Faye was there and just as they died, she offered them a chance for life…

  Wolf sprang from his hiding place and jumped in the SUV. Jonas and Ragnar followed and they left the scene behind them in a cloud of dust.

  “That’s not good,” Ragnar said. “To have set her free like that; she could be a problem later.”

  “Then we worry about it later,” said Wolf. “Right now, we find my wife.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Miriam had been locked in a basement bedroom. She couldn’t complain as to the accommodations. Her captors had treated her well after the whole “trunk incident”. There was a nice, soft bed for her to lay on and ample food and water. She even had a private bathroom. What she didn’t have, however, was access outside. The door was locked and she could hear Creepy’s heavy breathing on the other side. She couldn’t think of a scenario in which this ended well. Resigning herself to a literal fight for survival, she crouched by the door ready to pounce on the first person to come through the door.

  A key turned in the lock and Sven entered the room.

  Miriam sprang from her hiding spot and attacked him with everything her spirit could muster in order to preserve her life and that of her unborn child.

  “You bastard! You filthy, disgusting prick! Let me go!” she wailed as she pummeled him.

  Sven took each blow without flinching and calmly wrapped Miriam in a bear hug. “Calm down. You aren’t going anywhere,” he hissed into her ear. His breath was sweet and putrid at the same time. “There’s someone who wants to meet you. Now calm down before I have to hurt you.” Miriam relaxed and Sven released her. “Sit down,” he commanded.

  Miriam plopped down on the bed and her visitor entered. He was a tall man, well over six feet. He wore an impeccable black suit with white gloves. Covering his face was a plain white mask made of porcelain.

  “Miriam Wolf,” he said in a raspy voice. “You may call me Porcelain. Believe me when I tell you, it is an extreme pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

  Miriam didn’t buy the nice and proper act for a second. Her eyes blazed with defiance. “What do you want with me?”

  “Do you not realize how special you are? You have been touched by something divine. You have been marked by one of the driving spiritual forces that exist behind the veil. It is a rare honor, indeed.”

  “What are you talking about, you fucking crazy nutjob?!”

  “The Lord of Murder.”

  Color fled Miriam’s face until she was nearly porcelain herself. “It can’t be. Victor’s dreams…”

  “Dreams, premonitions, who’s to say?” Porcelain shrugged. “Victor’s tragedy was unfortunate. But it ultimately led Sven to you. The Lord of Murder had marked Victor, tainted him. And as a result, Victor’s life and closest loved ones were tainted. That includes you, Miriam. And you are the perfect vessel for the Lord of Murder’s birth into the world.”

  “Fuck you. I’m not giving you anything. Let me out of here now!” She tried to make a move toward Porcelain but Sven intercepted her.

  “Sven is charming isn’t he?” He stroked the man’s face affectionately. “It was love at first sight, on many levels. Did you like it when he took you? Did you wallow in filthy puddles of ecstasy?”

  Miriam spit in Porcelain’s face and he struck her, sending her careening into the bed.

  Spittle trailed down his mask untouched. “She’s perfect.”

  She lurched off the bed to renew her attack only to have Sven hold her down u
ntil she quit thrashing.

  “Such spirit! She will provide a mighty vessel!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Sven smiled sweetly at her. “Think about it. The Lord of Murder deserves a new life, a pristine one. To live as a human from birth until his will is fulfilled as Christ did. Only this child will rise as the true Anti-Christ and set the world aflame!”

  The realization made Miriam reel. She instinctively clutched her belly. “Not my baby! You’ll never have my baby! I’ll kill you first!” She lunged at Porcelain again and was knocked unconscious by a surprise hook from Sven. He gently laid her out on the bed, kissing the bruise on her face that was already beginning to swell.

  “She’ll be fine,” Sven assured.

  “Such spirit. Such fierce beauty,” rasped Porcelain again. “Come, our other guests arrive.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Buddy Preston was on his way home from work when he noticed Trooper Lane’s car still parked behind the abandoned Encino Motel. Curious, he grabbed the rifle he kept under his seat and made his way around back. The sun had already set, casting deep shadows around the dilapidated building. Buddy clutched his gun tighter, letting the feel of cool steel in his hands reassure him. He stopped at the corner of the motel and listened.

  Though the small village was often quiet, an unsettling silence had settled over everything. No birds sang, no crickets chirped. No dogs barked when he crept too close to the fence of the house near the motel.

  “Lance? You over there?” he called nervously. “I see the lights flashing. Lance?”

  No response.

  Something was definitely wrong. Buddy tried to step around the corner but was frozen in place by a cold fear. “Alright, Preston,” he growled. “Grow some balls. The bosses’ll want to know what’s going on. And you know what they’ll do if you disappoint them. Especially that creepy asshole in the white mask. Now move!” They say the first step is always the hardest and that was the hardest first step of Buddy Preston’s life. When he turned the corner, what he saw made his blood run cold.