Netherworld

by Lisa Morton

  She wanted to jump from the bed and embrace him, smother him with kisses and questions, hang onto him so tightly he could never be taken from her again…and yet a paralysis gripped her limbs, leaving only her eyes able to move. She watched, immobile, as he bent down and then sat on the edge of the bed. Tears streamed from her eyes at the sight of his tousled hair, his white shirt, his sweet smile.

  “Oh Diana, how I’ve missed you,” he murmured, and then he lowered his face to hers, and she thought she would surely swoon from the feel of his cheek, his slightly roughened skin on her smooth face, his lips brushing hers.

  The kiss was long and deep, and Diana felt it with every fiber of her being. Tender and yet forceful, the kiss filled Diana with something she hadn’t even realized she’d been missing—or hadn’t been willing to acknowledge. Heat flooded her as William’s lips moved down her cheek, to her ears, to that small cleft in her throat; she felt desire such as she hadn’t experienced in years. She suddenly wanted all of William, his lips, his hands, that part of him that could fill her completely. She moaned softly as his hands moved down her body, pulling at her undergarments, tearing at the cloth—

  —and that was when she knew something was false. William had never been rough; in fact, Diana had once or twice wished he’d been more aggressive. He’d always been a fine lover, but if anything he was slightly timid.

  But now he was making small, animalistic grunts and ripping at her clothing.

  And, perhaps more alarming, Diana turned her head, allowing William to nibble the skin of her throat—and she realized Mina hadn’t stirred. She slept peacefully on, as quiet as the rest of the house.

  This was not William.

  Even as that realization overrode her desires, extinguished them abruptly, she found herself unable to move. Whatever thing had taken William’s form—was now undoing its own clothing, with great haste. It lifted its bulk off her, and still she had to struggle to move even her head or flex a finger; she could make no sound, nor curl fingers into a fist.

  The William-thing was leering at her now, as it pulled down its trousers. What sprang free was definitely not part of her husband; it was too large to be human, and she knew she only had seconds to break the paralysis that gripped her.

  She summoned all of her willpower, and concentrated on moving only her right arm. It was already free of the covers, and only two feet from the bedside table—where the iron knife waited. She focused on moving the arm, gritting her teeth, feeling sweat pop out on her face with the effort—

  —and just as the William thing was lowering himself onto her, she overcame her paralysis, thrust her hand out to the knife, gripped the hilt and plunged it into the monster’s thigh.

  There was a horrific, deafening screech, and suddenly Diana found she was completely free. She pushed the filthy thing back and bolted up from the bed, instinctively clutching her clothing more tightly around her. “Yi-kin!” she shouted.

  She knew she couldn’t wait for help; she didn’t want this thing to escape, and although the knife had wounded it badly, it was already crawling across the floor towards the open window. Diana looked frantically around the room, and saw the lone decoration was a large old tintype photo, mounted in a wrought iron frame. She grabbed the piece down from the wall, muttering an apology to Mrs. Mills, clasped both sides of the heavy frame and then smashed it down over the demon’s head and shoulders. It came to rest just above the elbows, effectively binding the demon from using its hands.

  Diana stumbled back, baffled. The frame wasn’t that big—barely the size of a man’s head…?

  The thing screamed again, writhed around to face her, and she saw it no longer bore any resemblance to her husband. It was now a small, withered creature of dead-white hairless skin, glowing yellow eyes and rotting, pointed teeth; it seemed to have shrunk to the size of a child, and was hopelessly trapped in the iron frame.

  “Yi-kin!” Diana shouted again, and then realized there’d been no response from anyone else in the house. She risked a quick run down the hallway to his room, where she saw him peacefully slumbering by the light of his lantern. Even Mina hadn’t so much as twitched a whisker.

  Very well, then; whatever spell the thing had cast had paralyzed the entire household, and only Diana had managed to throw it off.

  Then she would see the rest of this night out alone.

  While the thing in her bedroom continued to screech, she proceeded calmly downstairs and located a small storage room off the kitchen where she found a coil of sturdy rope. She took the rope upstairs, and bound it around the struggling demon and the iron frame, securing it to continue working as a charm against the creature’s magic.

  Diana was startled, when the creature’s incoherent shrieks turned to intelligible words. “Let me go,” it pleaded in a high, grating voice.

  “You can speak?”

  “Yes, yes. Let me go and I’ll answer one question for you,” it told her.

  “Oh, I’m after more than one answer from you.”

  She grasped the iron knife in the demon’s thigh, and twisted; its black ichors splattered her as it shrieked and struggled. She disregarded both the blood and the agony; she dressed quickly in her heavy coat, and picked up one end of the rope. She gave it a tug, and discovered the creature was light; in fact, she doubted that it weighed even as much as a child.

  She began to drag it from the room.

  “What are you doing?!” it screamed at her. “Where are you taking me?”

  Diana didn’t answer. She tugged it out into the hallway, and then headed for the stairs.

  “No, don’t—” it had just enough time to beg, before she hauled it, bumping it painfully along, so that it moaned and cried the entire length of the staircase. She paused once, halfway down, to make sure the iron frame was still tightly bound.

  Diana hauled it across the main room of the house towards the front door. She paused only long enough to light a lamp. Her prisoner continued to demand to know where they were going, and Diana continued to tug it silently—

  —towards the barn.

  She reached the barn, and by the lantern light spied what she wanted: Overhead was a pulley, with rope and hook attached. She dragged the demon to the center of the barn and secured it to the hook. She pulled the demon into the air until its feet dangled several feet above the floor, and it swung helplessly back and forth. After securing the rope, Diana glanced about the barn until she found the things she wanted:

  A small hand-scythe.

  A branding iron.

  A coal bucket.

  She began heating the coals while the demon’s pleading rose to fresh heights, as it realized her intention. “You don’t want to do this! I’ll answer anything you want, really I will—”

  Diana stuck the branding iron down into the coals. “Oh, I trust you will. Tell me what you are first.”

  “I thought that was obvious,” it answered.

  When Diana didn’t respond, it supplied, “I’m an incubus.”

  “An incubus,” Diana considered, nodding, remembering what she knew of incubi: Demons that seduced human women during sleep; they induced a paralysis that supposedly rendered their victims helpless. They took on the form of a particularly attractive human….

  “How did you know about William?” she asked.

  The incubus looked away furtively. “I can’t…I can’t answer that—”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because,” it told her, “I’ll be killed when I return.”

  Diana used a heavy glove to pull the branding iron from the bucket of coals. “No, you won’t—because I’m going to kill you here tonight. Your choice is whether to answer my questions and die quickly, or not answer them and die very slowly and very, very painfully.”

  The demon turned—if possible—even paler.

  Then it abruptly tried a new tact, raging at her. “I have very powerful friends on the other side! If you kill me, their wrath will fall on you—”

 
Diana twisted the branding iron, which bore a stylized ‘M’ logo. “Their wrath is already on me.”

  The incubus cried out, “You won’t do it.”

  Diana set the iron aside, and the demon’s expression showed its relief—until it saw her pick up the hand-scythe instead. “You’re only partly right: I won’t do it with the iron, because it’ll take too long to get red-hot.”

  “You won’t torture me. I know about you.”

  Diana looked the incubus directly in the eye as she hefted the curved, sharp blade. “You don’t know me, then. Because if you did, you’d know that there are no words to describe how much I despise you for using my husband to trick me. William is a sacred memory to me, and you’ve tried to pervert that memory. I would very, very much enjoy torturing you slowly for the duration of this night, but if you tell me what I want to know, I’ll try to force myself to simply kill you at some point.”

  The demon stared at her in stony, tightlipped silence.

  Until she drew the scythe tip across the bottom of one its feet.

  More of its acrid blood gushed out, but Diana was beyond disgust, beyond feeling, beyond most human sensations. She was intent only on making this thing suffer. She swung the scythe and nearly severed the toes on that same foot.

  It screamed.

  “Aeshma sent me—he has your husband!”

  Diana flung blood from the scythe blade and asked, “Who is Aeshma?”

  “He’s a great general in the Netherworld—a prince,” the incubus sobbed.

  “Is he planning to launch an attack on this world?”

  “Yes—” and then the incubus broke off, gasping as it saw Diana raise the hand-scythe again. “No…enough, woman!”

  “I think not,” Diana said, and hacked off the creature’s hand at the wrist.

  She flinched as she was splattered by more of its black blood. The demon renewed its struggles, and hissed at her. “You’ll pay for this, and your sufferings will make mine look meager, whore!”

  “When will this Aeshma attack? What is he waiting for?” she asked calmly.

  “Cut off whatever you like, I’m done answering anything for you,” it spat at her.

  Diana moved the scythe to its tiny, shriveled penis.

  “I’ll answer!” it screamed, its eyes huge as it stared down. “He has been building his army for two hundred years, since the guardians of most of the gateways vanished—”

  “Guardians? What guardians? Why did they vanish?” demanded Diana.

  “I don’t know, I swear I don’t know!”

  Diana weighed the fiend’s words, then motioned with the scythe. “Go on.”

  “His army will soon be ready, and so he decided to destroy Lord Furnaval, who was the last guardian—”

  Diana felt that news as almost a physical blow. “William was the last….”

  “Or so we thought,” cried the demon. “We didn’t know about you. And now you, you’ve begun closing the gateways, forcing Aeshma to change his plans. He has now moved up the attack to midnight on All Hallows’ Eve. Because, you see…you can’t possibly close all the gateways by then.”

  The incubus uttered a wracked, fitful laugh.

  And it was right. October 31st was just over two months away. Diana would have just barely enough time to make it home. And then….

  She thought for a moment, and then realized there was still one last thing she wanted to know: “Why were you sent?” she asked, thinking this weak, one-armed thing hanging before her wasn’t much of an assassin.

  “You’ve managed to defeat the others—Kali, Cernunnos, the lizard people—”

  “The lizard people are dead?”

  The incubus added, “They were dying anyway, but you finished them off.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why they sent you.”

  The incubus mocked her, and more of its black blood trickled down from the corner of its thin-lipped mouth. “Aeshma thought if we couldn’t kill you, maybe we could trick you. With William.”

  Diana was still confused. “But what good would that do?”

  “Maybe I couldn’t kill you myself,” the incubus answered, and suddenly the horrible thing was leering at her again, “but I could impregnate you.”

  Diana nearly retched as she understood their plan. “A demon child. I would have…it….”

  “You wouldn’t have survived the pregnancy,” the incubus confirmed. “But my child would have.”

  This time Diana didn’t hesitate with the scythe, and the demon’s shrieks were noticeably higher.

  After an hour the dawn arrived, and Diana lowered what remained of the fiend to the ground, and then dragged the pieces out into the morning light. As the sun’s rays hit them, they sizzled like meat on a fire and began to smoke. Within a few seconds there was nothing left but a small black puddle on the ground.

  Diana returned the borrowed instruments to their rightful places in the barn, and then went back into the house, intending to make thorough use of Mrs. Mills’ fine bathtub. As she trudged up the stairs, a weariness suddenly descended on her that made every step a great effort. At the top landing she met Yi-kin, yawning and trudging toward her, already dressed.

  “Good morning, Miss Diana—” he started, and then broke off, staring at her. “What is all over you?”

  Diana realized she was almost completely covered with dried, black blood from the incubus; it apparently hadn’t steamed away with the rest of the monster. Yi-kin wrinkled his nose and it suddenly dawned on Diana how foul its stench was.

  “Oh, this?” she said, indicating her stained coat. “I thought I’d do Mrs. Mills a favor and collect some eggs for her, but instead I tripped and fell right into a mud puddle.”

  “Stinky mud,” mumbled Yi-kin.

  Mrs. Mills appeared in the hallway, looking chipper and cheery. “’Morning,” she sang out, “can’t imagine how I overslept so!”

  Chapter XXIII

  August 4, 1880—August 10, 1880

  Cedar Grove—New York, United States

  After cleaning the demon’s putrescence off her (in two baths), Diana had Yi-kin burn the clothing she’d worn. She apologized profusely to Mrs. Mills for her “clumsiness” in destroying the portrait of the late Mr. Mills; she was genuinely sympathetic to the woman’s pain and commiserated with her about losing a cherished commemorative of her late husband. Fortunately, Mrs. Mills liked Diana a great deal, and was willing to forgive her.

  In the afternoon, Diana and Yi-kin found the gateway and sealed it without further incident.

  Diana was exhausted afterwards, and so they stayed with Mrs. Mills one more night. Diana slept for nearly twelve hours; the next morning she paid Mrs. Mills twice the amount they’d agreed upon, exchanged an embrace with her new friend, and then she and Yi-kin departed.

  It took them another three days to cross Maryland, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey on a number of small railways before they arrived in the great city of New York. During that time, Diana was somber, answering Yi-kin’s questions with only “yes” or “no.”

  When he finally asked if something else had happened at the farmhouse she answered “yes.” She elaborated enough to tell him it was vitally important that they return home as quickly as possible.

  In New York, he was fortunate enough to secure them passage on a steamer leaving for England two days hence; they spent their day in New York purchasing a few new items of clothing for her, to replace what she’d had Yi-kin burn back in Cedar Grove. During meals they said practically nothing to each other, and Diana’s gaze was haunted and turned inward. Even Mina was little consolation to her.

  Finally, on the morning of Monday, August 10th, they boarded the steamship SS Celtic, and left the United States behind.

  And Yi-kin admitted that he was very glad.

  The Netherworld

  Chapter XXIV

  September 2-4, 1880

  London, England

  Two weeks later the Celtic arrived at the British port of Liverpool, an
d upon landing Diana cabled Howe of her return, but also warned him that intended to visit London before returning to Derby.

  By late that evening, Diana, Yi-kin and Mina were relaxing in her comfortable London apartments. The staff was delighted to have her home, and Mina was treated to scratches and treats. Her introduction of Yi-kin as a full-time “secretary” raised a few eyebrows, but he soon found himself at home, treated with more friendliness and courtesy than he’d known since their few days with Mrs. Mills in West Virginia.

  Diana slept late the next day, and when she rose she seemed to have at last regained some of her easy strength. After going through piles of waiting correspondence and a few matters regarding the management of the Furnaval estates and businesses, she excused the rest of her staff and requested a private meeting with Yi-kin.

  She showed him into her sitting room, with its wide windows overlooking her courtyard, its small hearth, the tasteful leather chairs, and the table she’d purchased in Canton. She asked him to close the door and take a seat across from hers, before the fire. Yi-kin paused long enough to stroke Mina, who lay curled up at Diana’s feet, then he accepted the cup of tea she handed him. She took a sip from her own cup, then set it aside and looked down at her fingers, as they fidgeted in her lap.

  “First off, Yi-kin,” she finally began, not looking at him, “I apologize for my behavior these last weeks.”

  “M sai—” Yi-kin started, but she cut him off.

  “Yes, it is necessary—you deserve more than my sullen silence. You’ve saved my life, and I owe you more than a weekly salary.”

  Yi-kin bowed.

  “It’s time I told you the truth about what happened in West Virginia,” she said, still not looking at him. “That first night a demon called an incubus visited me—”

  Yi-kin sat forward in his chair so quickly he spilled some of the hot tea into his lap, and hissed in pain, “Why did you not call me—?!”

  “I couldn’t. You were under a spell. We all were. Even Mina.”

  Yi-kin looked away for a minute, then went on excitedly: “But you kill demon? Your dress I burn—”