Mouth of Madness

by Hunter Blain

  “Sorry, buddy. Need to check something,” I said as I oriented on Depweg’s marker that SAC Baker had provided. Seeing that we were only a few miles away, I decided to land and address Joey’s injuries.

  He began shifting as we touched down. I looked down at my right hand and noticed it was still crispy and numb. I sent signals for it to open and close, but only succeeded in sending blackened flakes tumbling to the ground. I briefly entertained the idea of healing it, but knew immediately that the hellfire would prevent that based on how deeply I was incinerated.

  I summoned a meat cleaver in my good hand and sliced off my hand at the wrist, careful not to nick my coat, though I was confident I wouldn’t be able to actually cut it. With a quick focus, another hand grew, and I flexed and relaxed the fingers in test. My metaphorical stomach rumbled, demanding I replenish the energy I was consuming.

  As Joey was reverting to his man-suit, I looked down at my left hand and brought up the screen of my phone.

  “What the hell was that?!” Joey panted through a clenched jaw, trying to get the words out before he was fully back in his man-suit while fighting through the pain.

  “Asmodeus, the fiercest demon lord under Lucifer’s command,” I explained with a sigh that walked the fine line of being misconstrued as defeat.

  “How do you know?” Joey demanded sharply.

  I held up my phone and turned my wrist so he could see the Google search I had done while he shifted. It still amazed me how fast the technology was.

  Joey sat on his bare bottom holding his stomach. Blood oozed between his fingers, and he looked up at me.

  “Are you gonna do your magic trick or what?” he asked with a wince.

  “I got ya, bud,” I answered as I knelt down and placed my hand over his stomach. An idea came to me and I leaned behind him to inspect his back.

  “What?” he asked sharply.

  “No exit wounds. Gonna have to go in and get the stuff out.”

  “Fu-hu-huck,” he got out in a sigh-laced staccato.

  “Don’t worry, bro. Should be easy to get out compared to silver or iron,” I reaffirmed as I lightly pushed on his chest with one hand while supporting his upper back with the other. He got the hint and lay down flat on the warm sand. A gentle breeze swept over us, making me look around in paranoid suspicion.

  Not sensing any danger, I willed a pair of bloodchopsticks in my hand and slowly began inserting them into his biggest wound. Once I felt the rock that was imbedded deep in his muscle, I grabbed one stick with my free hand and willed it to wrap around the debris. I gently pulled out the earthen bullet while leaving my other bloodstick inside, willing it to expand and grab the edges of the wound, starting with the muscle. With a focus that had become almost second nature at this point, I closed the wound by knitting the flesh together, healing it to the point of not even leaving a scar behind.

  I repeated the process on the handful of other smaller wounds until he was completely healed. I licked my lips unconsciously at the sight of the blood that coated his skin. Joey saw me gawking and his face shifted from one of pain to concern.

  “Good as new,” I proclaimed quickly. “And good job on not crying out. Even Depweg has trouble staying still when I operate on him. His nose always lights up while making a noise like a buzzer if I touch the edges.”

  “Di-did you just make a board game joke?” Joey asked, lifting his body into a seated position, testing my handiwork.

  “I thought it was funny,” I said as I pretended to scan the horizon. The wind felt cold on my skin now. I needed to eat.

  “How do we stop him?” Joey asked, changing the subject.

  “Which him? The warlock or the freaking demon lord?”

  “Both.”

  “Oh man, I have no idea. I’ll need to call Father Thomes on this one.”

  “What about Locke?” Joey asked, getting to his feet. “That guy just now was a warlock, right?”

  “Oh shit! You’re right! Yeah, I bet Locke would know something.” As I finished, I lifted my left hand with thumb and index fingers in the shape of an L, and went to the phone icon as the hologram winked into existence. The favorites menu popped up, and I struggled between choosing Father Thomes and Locke. With a frown, I noticed “Collin” was now at the top of the list.

  “Humph,” I exhaled.

  “What?” Joey asked, taking a step to stand next to me and peer at my screen.

  “SAC Baker added himself to my favorites list. Kinda annoying.”

  “Why didn’t he add his full title?” the still naked Joey asked with a scrunched face.

  “Probably for two reasons, the first being to instill a sense that he is a friend. And two, just in case anyone finds my phone. Less suspicious or obvious that he is a government agent.”

  “What a dick,” Joey said, but I could tell there was no oomph behind his statement.

  “Yeah, I like the guy, too. Damn charming bastard.”

  “Would he be able to help? I mean, he said he could have helped us fight the Shadow Court, right?”

  “Look at you, Mr. Big Brain!” I exclaimed as I ruffled Joey’s long hair. He smacked my hand away with a scowl. “Joey, when’s the last time you laughed? Or even smiled?”

  Joey responded by turning his head to regard the city we were a mile or so away from. I nodded in understanding before looking back at my contacts list.

  I touched Locke’s name and put my thumb up to my ear while my index finger went near my mouth. After a few rings, Locke picked up.

  “Go for Locke.”

  “Go for— What the hell is so hard about saying hello?”

  “What can I do for you, John?” Locke asked, ignoring the question. Damn, my friends were good at doing that.

  “Locke, we just encountered a stupidly strong warlock who has Asmodeus as his pet.”

  Silence sang out, causing me to pull my phone away from my ear to look at the screen to make sure he hadn’t been dropped. The call was still connected. I replaced my fingers against my head and asked, “Hello? Ya there?”

  “Ye-yes, I’m here,” Locke said before taking in a long, deep breath through his nose. “There’s only one warlock who could summon a demon lord like Asmodeus. And even then, I would have had my doubts had you not just told me he had done it.”

  “And who’s that?” I asked, not realizing the implications of that which I asked.

  “Grand Master Silver,” Locke said with a heavy tone.

  “Grand Master Silver?” I asked, letting the words roll over my tongue to see if I could somehow recognize it.

  Joey spoke up then, “Silver? Like Benji Silver?”

  “Benji Si— Oh, my Lilith…” I drawled, letting my free hand slide down my face in disbelief.

  Joey made a face while looking from me to the phone, signifying he wanted in on the conversation. With a quick nod, I pulled my hand away and touched the speaker icon.

  “What? You know him?” Locke asked, intrigued.

  “I assume he’s a relative of the boy Depweg killed during World War Two. You know the one, Locke,” I finished accusingly. “You reminded him of it when you arrived on our coffee table, remember?”

  “Oh my…” Locke fumbled. “Yes, I remember. This is beyond coincidence, John.”

  “Agreed. What are the freaking odds that the kin of the most powerful warlock in the world was killed by Depweg?” I shook my head in disbelief as I spoke the words aloud.

  “What were the particulars of the story?” Locke asked.

  “Um, I, ah…” I stammered.

  “John, now is not the time for discretion. We need to know everything. Wouldn’t you agree?” Locke argued.

  “He’s right. I don’t even know everything that happened,” Joey added softly.

  “Fine! Lilith damn it.” I told Joey and Locke the story of how Depweg had been tricked into killing a five-year-old boy during the war. How a werewolf hunter had sprung the trap and nearly killed Depweg in the ensuing battle. I finished by telli
ng Locke about how Joey and I had sought the name of the boy in order to try and save Depweg from his insanity.

  “And when John asked the universe for the boy’s name, the universe spoke,” Joey said just above a whisper.

  “For all to hear,” Locke finished.

  “So you’re fucking saying that because I wanted to help my best friend regain his sanity, the most powerful warlock on Earth is after him?” I barked out as I spit on the ground in frustration.

  “And Asmodeus,” Locke added unhelpfully.

  “So what’s the freaking plan?” I asked with eyes shut tight as I rubbed my temples in frustration.

  Both Joey and Locke were silent.

  “Locke, damn it, how the hell do we stop Asmodeus?”

  “You, you can’t…”

  “I refuse to accept that.” My tone grew dark and aggressive. “You had better think of something, and right the fuck now.”

  After a few moments of stunned silence, Locke answered, “The only way to stop Asmodeus is to kill Grand Master Silver.” I didn’t like the reverence in his tone as he said the name.

  “We can’t, like, use holy water on the demon? Or silver?”

  “Did you not see the size of him?” Joey asked, letting his arms fall to his sides as he cocked his head. “You would need an Olympic-size pool of holy water.”

  “Or an army with silver weapons,” I thought out loud. “Gotta go, Locke.”

  “Wai—” Locke began before I pressed the red icon and hung up on him.

  “What was that about?” Joey asked.

  “What?”

  “You were pretty harsh with him just now. What’d he do?”

  “Nothing,” I lied as I pressed Collin’s name. After five rings, Special Agent in Charge Collin Baker picked up.

  “Hello there, John.”

  “See, this guy says hello,” I said uselessly to Joey with the phone still on speaker.

  “That I do. Now, what can I do you for?”

  “We might be in a dill of a pickle.”

  “I’m listening.”

  I relayed the entire situation to Collin, who answered with, “Interesting. Let me make some phone calls and get back to you. But just to make sure I got this right; Grand Master Silver and the demon lord, Asmodeus? Is that right?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. Think you can help?”

  “I certainly hope I can. It’s going to be near impossible to keep a demon that huge a secret from the rest of the world. Satellites will pick him up, I’m sure. Call you back?”

  “Alright.”

  “Goodbye, John. Talk soon,” Collin said as he hung up.

  “Ya see there? Proper phone etiquette,” I gestured to Joey.

  “You did basically hang up on Locke.”

  I mumbled something under my breath.

  “Are you going to call Father Thomes?” Joey asked.

  I glanced at the time on my phone. “Nah, too late. Let him sleep. I think we have enough information right now, anyway.”

  While waiting for Collin to call back, I looked at the still naked Joey.

  “Hey, can I ask you something?”

  “What?” Joey asked, sensing the soft tone of my question and guessing, accurately, where the conversation was heading.

  “H-how…” I began, struggling to find the right way to ask such a delicate question, “How are you? You know, since…” I lifted a single hand up, palm to the sky.

  “Since Dawson?” Joey asked a little harsher than anticipated.

  “Yeah, man. We all care about you. You know that, right?”

  Joey answered by turning his back to me and crossing his arms as he stared at the town.

  “Joey. Come on, man. You need to talk to someone.”

  “The only person I can talk to is somewhere out there being hunted like a fucking animal!” Joey blurted as he whirled on me with clenched fists and a deep scowl on his face.

  “We are going to get him back, dude. Okay? Bu-but you know you can talk to any of us, right?”

  “What, like you, Dr. Phil? You’re a joke, John. A dancing fucking clown who’s only good at making an ass outta himself. Why the hell would I talk to you about losing my bro…” he trailed off, choked by the words that refused to leave his throat, as if in doing so he might prevent Dawson’s death from being the inescapable reality that it was.

  I wanted to get angry at the verbal onslaught that hit a little too close to home, but then I thought of Da. He had endured my anger and disrespect when I had needed him most.

  “I understand,” I whispered as I stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. He pulled back in disgust and jerked his shoulder so that my hand fell off. His gaze flicked between my hand and face in disgust, as if I were touching him with shit-covered fingers.

  My pride cracked, and anger seeped through, making my skin feel hot.

  No! Don’t you dare! I screamed inwardly, focusing on maintaining my control. This was about him, not me. I would endure like Da had for me countless times.

  I could feel my eyes itching with the desire to shift, while my gums ached, trying desperately to flex my fangs.

  NO!

  Taking a steadying breath, I nodded my head and said to the person who needed my help, “You’re right. I am a joke. I get it. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t experienced tremendous loss that has eaten at the core of who I am. I am only this clown you see before you because it is how I cope with pain. The more scar tissue forms, the more awkward I become in stressful situations. It doesn’t mean I don’t have a heart or can’t empathize with the pain of others, especially my friends.”

  Joey’s expression softened from a hate-filled scowl to a stern frown.

  “I-I didn’t mean…” Joey started.

  “No, it’s fine. I get it,” I reassured Joey. “Look, we can all see clear as day that you haven’t been the same since your loss. I can understand where you are coming from, believe me. All I can really say is, be glad it was quick.” My eyes went unfocused as I stared through my friend, allowing the scene of my parent’s murder to flow into view. “You…You can’t know what it’s like to watch your family die a slow, agonizing death.”

  Joey’s face melted at the realization of what I was referring to.

  “Dude, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…to…”

  “Joey,” I said, holding a hand up in a stopping gesture, “it’s okay. I’ve come to terms with what happened, which is why I’m trying to help you. It is exhausting to hate. Trust me, I know. I’m the Hate Holding Champion of the World.” I took in a breath on a mental three count and let it out. “I would never say it to his face, but it felt good to forgive Locke for what he did to my parents. It was like a weight was lifted off my chest. The world became more beautiful as I learned to forgive.”

  “Didn’t you threaten to put his head in the oven?”

  “Look, I didn’t say it was easy to forgive him. Nor did I do it overnight. But every journey begins—”

  “Don’t finish that corporate slogan bullshit line,” Joey interrupted. Then he nodded his head while letting out a long breath. “But I see where you are going.”

  “By the way, you don’t need to forgive Lolth for what she did.”

  “I don’t?” Joey asked while squinting up at me.

  “No, dude. Fuck dat bitch! She was a serious doodoo head. But, you must forgive yourself.”

  Joey swayed on his feet as his eyes glistened. He stared off into the desert in an attempt to hide his tears from me.

  “It wasn’t your fault. It shouldn’t have been you. And whatever else negative bullshit you think about the situation, it isn’t true. So cast that crap out and live your life. Do you honestly think Dawson would want you to stop your life because of his death?”

  “Probably.” Joey sniffed with a small bark of laughter, somewhere between mirth and sorrow.

  “Ha! You’re probably right. But that’s the exact reason you should carry on. Or, you know, something like that.”


  Joey wiped at his wet cheeks before turning back to me. His eyes were warmer than they had been. Where there had been hate only minutes ago, a hope had been planted, ready to be watered with the healing properties that only time could bring.

  We stood in silence for a long moment.

  “This would be much less awkward if your impressive junk wasn’t just hanging out. I mean, seriously, when you were creating your character, did you put all your stats into peen size and run out of points for height?”

  After staring at me for a moment, Joey burst out laughing, and I could tell a million pounds of baggage had been shrugged off his shoulders. I laughed with him, feeling a glowing pride in my chest for helping someone who had gone through a pain only a few could possibly comprehend. It was good to talk to another person who had gone through the same thing you had.

  “Seriously though, can you put on some underwear at least? I’m debating having a sex change just because I don’t feel like I can compete with what you got going on down there. I mean, do you have to, like, watch your step when you’re naked?”

  “You don’t need to have a sex change if you want to feel it, big boy,” Joey said as he threw open his arms in preparation for a bear hug.

  “NO! I’ll scream!” I recoiled with legitimate fear of being eaten by that thing.

  Screams pierced the night, followed by the report of automatic gunfire.

  Joey and I froze before we both shot our gazes to the city, our faces going from mirthful to dead serious in an instant.

  “Is it Depweg or Asmodeus?” I asked, nervously.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Joey said, dropping to all fours to begin the change in preparation for whatever awaited us.

  “You’re right,” I responded, setting my jaw and staring into the distance.

  “But remember, John,” Joey strained to say through his transformation, “Don’t. Fucking. Die.” The last word came from vocal cords belonging to a massive canine.

  “Back at cha, boo,” I said lamely. My insides were a turmoil of worry intermixed with uncertainty. The next hour could see the fall of all of creation if I wasn’t careful. It could also spell the doom of my best friend

  FUCK! I yelled inwardly, careful to not let Joey feel my worry at such a critical juncture. How did I save my friend from an army ready for supernaturals while also keeping myself from dying?