This time she allowed her gaze to meet His and the dark being nodded. She had found the place. It was time.
A piercing scream erupted from deep within her and she threw herself across the bonnet of the auto mobile, knife outstretched, brandishing the blood of her fallen friends. She did not pause to appraise her assailant, yet instead was overcome with a blinding flash of light that occupied her entire visual field. She plunged wildly with the blade, stabbing voraciously yet blindly towards the space directed by her impulses, and despite a stinging sensation somewhere to her forehead she did not stop until the light had passed and she once again could see the reality in front of her.
Curled up on the ground of the car park was an attractive dark haired young female, dressed in a skimpy top and denims, her body littered with stab wounds.
“Finish her!”
The command appeared telepathically inside Candy’s realm of thought. She turned her head and behind her there stood the terrible figure, his skin somehow both brighter and darker than the night sky. The previous fear she had felt upon the presence of this gruesome apparition was replaced with a resigned acceptance, a realization of this final moment.
She was to take life, and much more she had no choice in this matter. Yet, despite this, she summoned all the hurt and rage possible and hurtled herself at the hideous God who stood before her.
A war cry of painful anguish erupted from deep within her and she began savagely swiping the bloodstained knife at the black figure with the might of the eternally damned. However her intended victim merely held out his left hand, palm facing upwards, a gesture that left Candy frozen to the spot, unable to do anything more than weep bitter tears of disappointment.
“I suppose I must respect your humanity Candy, though you shall come to realize such a thing will serve you no purpose. Tonight I shall be lenient. Yet it was you who sought me,” the black God spoke into Candy's mind, transference of thought that Candy received with a vile shudder.
“What do you mean I sought you? Why? Why would I ever seek this?”
“You know why. Curiosity. As you become aware of us so we become aware of you. You knew the truth when you saw me in the nightclub. Yet your logic could not grasp what your reason would not accept. You warned her then, yet she would not accept. Do not say you had no chance. You chose to deny your senses, and now the consequences speak for themselves. You have no one to blame but yourself. And, the one who took their lives.”
“You made it happen. You made it-! Why would you do such a fucking evil-?”
“Do not waste your time on pointless trivialities. What occurred was merely an act of nature. Should you wish to blame someone, blame the one who took their lives. She lies before you. Vengeance could be yours. And should it not be? Did she not take from you? Would it not feel just?”
“No, I won't. I won't kill for you, you son of a whore.”
“Such arrogance and ingratitude. She was to be your first. And in its way, it was to be just. Now you shall only have me to thank for the revenge you could not achieve yourself.”
“No, wait, I-”
The black God drew a line through the crisp air and Candy watched with revulsion as the dying woman's throat opened, blood spewing forth from the wide slit, a grotesque fountain of red. Candy turned away in revulsion, yet felt no pity for the woman. She had taken her friends, the precious moments of their respective lifetimes and left in Candy only a fading shadow of her former self, a witness to the murders that had occurred that night.
Loss overcame Candy and tears streamed down her face, the momentous shock finally taking its toll. Minutes passed.
And then with an upward glance Candy turned towards the faceless God. "So what now?" Candy spat sourly, bitterness all that was left of her drained feelings.
“You must come with me. They will be looking for you soon. They will have many questions, and what answers can you give? They will assume your guilt. Now you must play our game. You belong to me, Candy, to us. Perhaps you may win your freedom, if freedom is what you may call it. First we must give you your gift, a fitting token of our gratitude to you, should you earn it. Then you will see the truth, although we do not expect you to be thankful. Before we go, is there anything you would like to ask?”
“Who and what you are?" asked Candy, “your name?”
“I am part of the Rubiconeteka; to some I am known as the jester of torment, to others the faceless face of fate.”
“And the Ruby-whoever; what do they call you?”
“Xcetral!”
His voice screamed in Candy’s head, and at once she understood the evil symbolized in such a name. And yet it was with hysterical laughter that she collapsed into the spreading pool of her victim’s blood.
“Xcetral, Xcetral. You're what people say when they can't be bothered to explain something. You just had my friends killed, Xcetral, Xcetral,” Candy laughed harder, “you sound like a fucking pharmaceutical. Your name is STUPID!” she finished.
“Perhaps it better if you did not speak.”
Candy began to jerk, small painful movements at first. She fought to bring her limbs under control, yet her attempts proved futile. It was like attempting to remain still whilst being tickled by sparks from live wires, and soon her entire body convulsed.
An irrepressible need to cough arose from the depth of her throat. Machine gun type bursts of red gloop stuttered and splattered from between clenched teeth as she simultaneously choked on the blood which could not find passage.
In one brief moment of clarity she realised she was drowning in her own ancestry, more or less, and she tried with all her might to swallow down her lineage; it's unbearable metallic taste making the act near impossible, driving her need to eject this vile tasting yet necessary substance of self.
Yet, still her jaw remained locked, and it was with torturous endurance Candy engulfed her bodily fluid; and with harrowing suffering it immediately erupted back into her mouth. It was the most pain she had ever experienced in her life. As her eyeballs rolled backwards into their sockets, a blinding white stole her vision. For a moment she thought she had died. However the torment continued. Just when she thought she could take no more, a pain, so sharp, in hindsight the only word she could ever find to fit it was precise, stabbed in the centre of both her head and her heart. It felt like a hook had been implanted in both and was now tugging at things, things that only now were she aware existed. It was pulling these things, trying to remove them. The pain became so severe she prayed she would black out.
And then it was done.
Her body, unmoving on the cold uneven concrete, appeared lifeless. Only the hammering of her heart inwardly betrayed the deathly persona she now portrayed, as masses of adrenaline flooded her system. It was the all the kick start she needed. Sweat drenched and blood soaked, she opened her eyes.
Xcetral was staring down at her; and although she still could not meet his faceless face, she sensed that he was smiling. The bastards probably got a hard-on. That is if he's actually got a dick. It was painful to think; her brain felt like it had been washed in sulphuric acid, it's certainly been washed in acid, yet the thoughts brought a smile to her face none the less. She began to laugh. This time however she felt hollow. It was as if something; no, the most integral part of her was missing.
“You bastard,” she spat, “what the hell have you done?”
“I have taken your prize.”
“Speak English you fucking prick. Hey etcetera? You hear me, and so forth? Are you listening to me?” said Candy, spitting blood as she struggled to sit up.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones...”
The fingers on Candy's left hand began to bend backwards, almost of their own accord and she gasped and cried out in pain, as they stopped at an exact right angle to the back of her hand. Still the pressure continued and her flesh began to tear as her fingers continued to fold backwards. Fingertips met with their adjoining arm, just below her elbow. Candy screamed.
&nbs
p; Tears streamed down her face. Where the fuck was all the people? There was a club going on not more than a hundred meters away, probably less.
“Do I make myself clear?”
“Fuck you!” said Candy, although this time the laugh was altogether missing from her reply.
“I shall take that as an affirmative. Your hand is healed, but remember it can be broken as many times as I wish it to be.”
Candy looked down at her hand. It was true. The hand was healed. It didn't even hurt.
“So why do it in the fucking first place?”
“Obedience.”
“Then why heal it?”
“Because it would make it unfair in our eyes.”
“What? Make what unfair-”
“Life or death. Your life or death.”
“I don't understand. I... don't understand why you'd kill then torture then heal. And what the fuck did you do to me?” said Candy curiously as a welcomed numbness set in.
The LSD was causing her endorphins to work overtime and for the first time she was glad of its mysterious properties.
“I took your soul. You must kill in order for it to be returned. Your soul is a meal, which is worth twenty one meals, and some entertainment along the way. It would be unfair to leave your hand like that because you have to take the walk.”
“This makes no sense. What-”
“Enough questions. Sleep now, Candy. Dreams are all you have left. A way perhaps of separating the nightmare which awaits.”
And sure enough Candy found herself dozing off, the sound of Xcetral's laughter growing fainter with each passing second.
The stone bench was freezing. Carved out of the rock exterior of the cave's wall with a precision that belonged perhaps to the original masons of lore, it now found its purpose in the skinny bloodstained brunette, who sat perfectly still on its polished surface. Candy, unsure how long she had been sitting on the stone bench, shifted her position for the first time. Her ass hurt, she supposed from the cold hardness beneath her, yet she still made no move to stand.
Time seemed non-existent in this place. She was becoming conscious of the fact that she had been in a catatonic state. She could fathom no other explanation for her inaction. Considering the memory of what had occurred previously, the trauma that she had endured, she would have imagined herself screaming and shouting and God alone knew what else.
However she merely remained seated, barely thinking, her heavy breathing the only indication of life. The ecstasy had long since worn off and the come down from the drug added the dull edge of depression to her already traumatized brain. No-one had come for her. She was alone.
She sat near a heavy door, presumably the point where she had entered, or to be more exact been brought through whilst still unconscious.
Why did she not try to escape? The notion made her laugh with derision. She was fucked, and worse still she knew it. She felt numbness in her brain, no doubt a cathartic reaction, this deadening of the senses.
She heard the faint sound of footsteps echoing from down the passageway that ran somewhere into darkness, an unknown place that Candy could only guess about. Apprehensively she willed herself to stand. Better to die on your feet than your ass, she thought, trying to force pretence of courage.
Man, what I wouldn’t do for a stiff drink right now.
The thought sobered her even more.
The footsteps grew louder, until finally a figure came into view. The person, (Candy assumed a man, or at least a male), was wearing a purple cowl, his whole face obscured from vision, only long anorexic hands in view. In one hand he carried a crystal tumbler, filled to the brim with liquor that Candy guessed was whiskey.
"You requested a drink. I hope scotch whiskey will suffice?" the robed person asked in a singsong voice.
There was something about that voice... it was pleasant enough, yet Candy couldn't help but think that it wasn't really all that pleasant after all. That perhaps instead it had the pretence of pleasantness and that if she listened to it hard enough, she would suddenly get the urge to gouge out her eyes.
"How did you…?" Candy started.
“There are no secrets here. You know as well as I do, although you still have the fear of such knowledge. Yet, no matter. You shall come to accept. Please. Drink," the man replied.
There was an unmistakable kindness in the singsong lull of his voice, yet it was laced with something. Something sharp. Like razors.
Or teeth.
Candy took the drink and gingerly sipped. It was as he had said. Scotch whiskey. And a good brand if she was to be any judge. She downed the remaining contents of the glass, greedy gulps that sent a warmth through her throat, down into the reaches of her stomach.
"Another?" asked the hooded figure.
Candy nodded and was surprised to find the glass again full. She took another large swallow then set the glass on the stone ground beneath her feet.
"Please allow me to introduce myself,” Please don't say you're a man of wealth and taste, “I am Jack. And you are Candy. You will be wondering where you are."
"You got that damned right," replied Candy with the slurred edge of whiskey bravado, relieved that he hadn't asked for sympathy.
"I may reply by saying that I am right and you are damned. You are in fact a guest in the Covenant of the Damned. You were brought here by the God Xcetral, and you have been left in my care until you understand the rules of your new life. The rules in the first instance are of course very simple. You will be tested. To do this you must partake in what we call the walk. It will be a fight to the death. If you survive you will receive more information regarding the next step which we call the game. The game is the point of no return. Is this clear?"
Candy retrieved the whiskey from its place on the stone floor and swirled it round in the glass thoughtfully as she considered her response. Finally she drained the glass.
"What if I refuse?" she asked.
This time Jack spoke in a tone much broader and wearier, his singsong voice giving way to one of resignation. Candy thought he might have once come from Brooklyn or somewhere similar. "Babe, this is the way it is. Get the picture?"
Candy got the picture.
And the negative.
The corridor was lit by flaming torches that flickered on either side of Candy as she made her way into the darkened future ahead. Jack led the way, walking two paces in front.
This was the walk.
Candy found the silence unbearable yet it was in a hushed whisper that she finally found the courage to speak. "The one who brought me here, he mentioned something. A gift?"
There was a thoughtful moment of quiet as Jack considered his answer.
"If you find success in the walk then yes you will be gifted. Each victor receives a gift, unique only to themselves. However you will find as with most that are gifted, there is a curse attached. The Gods enjoy suffering, as do the Goddesses. They feed off it. In all honesty, perhaps failure in the walk would be a more humane solution than the task that will otherwise befall you. However, I cannot be sure of this. As you can see, I am still in some respects, alive."
Candy could make out a faint glow in the distance. They were nearing their destination. The light at the end of the tunnel, Candy thought bitterly. As they drew nearer still, Candy could make out a massive stone arch entrance with ornate carvings etched in the ancient rock face.
Beyond this stood an arena of some kind, comprising a colossal square rock with a sheer drop on each side which appeared to dwindle into infinity. The sight momentarily robbed her of breath, yet the worse was still to come.
High above, in concrete tiers, sat a collection of the most hideous beings Candy had never thought possible to imagine. Thousands of demonic nightmares, all sat in hushed silence, waiting for the event to begin.
Candy felt the panic rise in her throat accompanied with bile and the remains of her previous tipple. She gagged involuntarily at the sour taste of the whiskey as it firstly dribbled from the cor
ners of her mouth then the regurgitated liquid spewed forth in mighty heaves; a suffocating action that blurred her vision and left her dizzy. At the sight of this, the crowd gave a massive cheer. Candy felt her knees weaken before such terror, and she stumbled to the ground. She looked for Jack, pleadingly, for help, but Jack was gone, replaced with only empty space.
There was no choice.
She would go it alone. She steadied herself and summoning as much courage as she could she held her head aloft and faced the jeering crowd. If she was going to survive this then she realised she was going to have to fight, and fight well.
They had done this to her. They had slaughtered her friends, a crime for which Candy was sure she was now a suspect, and these thoughts made her angry, a feeling which grew steadily into rage. She felt her blood begin to boil, and as painful as it was she willed again and again the image of her two friends, throats slashed, staring at her with blank lifeless eyes, blaming her for the atrocity that had befallen them.
Viciousness appeared like a new acquaintance in her mind, and she welcomed it as she would an old friend. She screamed out with derisive laughter at the spectators, right hand held high, middle finger outstretched. Finally she stepped into the arena and defiantly cast her gaze across the spectrum of observers.
"I’ll kill you all! Before this is over I’ll kill every last one of you! You hear me, freak fucks! You’re dead fucking meat! That’s a promise!" shrieked Candy.
However the crowd were silent, and appeared focused on something behind Candy, who now turned her head to follow their gaze. Entering the arena was a slim girl of no more than twenty. Even from the distance, Candy could see that the girl was visibly shaken. She’s only a kid, a god-damned kid. As the girl drew closer, Candy could see she was dressed in normal civilian clothes, pink denim jeans and a sweatshirt that was torn around the neck and shoulder. The girl hesitated at the start of the pathway that led to the arena, and then with obvious reluctance began again towards Candy. She’s only a kid and they expect me to kill her! Jesus, I’m not much older by the looks of things and they expect her to kill me!
Psycho Candy Page 5