by Amy Barrett
“He is not my pet.” Her glare could have killed him stone cold dead.
Ivan was not easily intimidated. “Then what is he? What are you? And someone tell me what in deaths name is going on here.”
To the surprise of all present, it was Zerachiel who spoke. “It is a mutated werewolf of some sort. The result of too much demon blood in a human bloodline.” He used his sword to prop himself up and rose to his feet. He didn’t look at the piece of his wing on the floor. “It should have stayed in hell.”
Ivan could hear the accusation in his tone. He looked at the wing, his friend and the dead wolf and something stung at him from the inside. He swore it wasn’t shame. It wasn’t guilt, he told himself. Just shock. The only problem was he didn’t know what they felt like, so he couldn’t know if he was right or not. He would have to wish hard enough to make the discomfort go away.
The woman spoke next. “I am here to take it back there. My name is Abyzou and I am a demon. So, you would be better leaving this to me.”
“Okay,” Ivan said, “we best be helping you to stop him then.”
Abyzou snorted. “You? A pathetic little delivery boy, you are going to stop a monster like that?”
Ivan rolled his shoulders and tried to keep his voice level. “Yes.” He gestured a wide circle, which included Abyzou. “We are.”
This time the demon openly laughed.
Ciara smiled. “Me as well? Yes. I am finally part of a cool group.”
Ivan didn’t know what this meant but he was sure that it was a good thing. After all she was smiling.
Abyzou shook her head with a wry smile on her face. “No way.”
Zerachiel ground his teeth against the pain in his wing. “If you want to please your boss you will let us help. You need that thing back or dead and we have the only weapon left that can do that.”
Everyones eyes were drawn to the angelic sword propping Zerachiel up.
“You need these to send him back to hell.” Abyzou shook the chains in her hand.
“You want him back in hell, I just want him off the earth.” Zerachiel stared her down but she didn’t flinch.
Ivan swallowed a groan. No one looked happy and how was he meant to enjoy his holiday to earth if everyone was sulking. He caught sight of the wing again and that weird feeling scolded him. Perhaps Zerachiel had a free pass to be grumpy for a while.
***
Nick was a kid who liked to play outside. He and Dan would run up and down the street all day. Cops and robbers was their favourite game. However, as they got older and it became clear that Nick had to run the world or some shit, they didn’t play anymore. As teenagers, Nick rarely left the house.
“Don’t be such a dry shite.” Dan was standing waving out the window at the four girls and two guys from their class who had come to hangout.
“I’m not.” Nick was curled on the bed hugging a pillow. He hoped all his will to go out with the guys and go nuts would be sucked into the feathers inside. The bed was opposite the window and above the headboard was covered in posters and photographs. It was a warm evening and the room was stuffy to the point that it made Nick sweat. You could hardly see the floor underneath the junk lying around the place, the only thing kept pristine was the stack of video games on shelves in the corner.
“Oh, come on man. Your parents are out. This is the golden opportunity to get some.” Dan waved at the girls again and winked. Nick wished Dan didn’t think he looked cool when he did that.
“Look I can’t. Mom said she would be back soon and then I have to work on my fighting.”
“Yea for a war that will never come.” Dan sighed and slid down against the wall until he was sitting on the floor. He stood out from the deep blue wallpaper in his brown leather jacket.
“What do you mean? People are getting all geared up for it.” Nick searched Dan’s face but got nothing. His eyes were downcast.
Dan traced his fingers along the letters of their names. They had scribbled them there in crayon years ago and Nick had never washed it off. The blocky green letters tripped over each other and were faded into the wall like an old tattoo.
“Look man it’s just cause you’re different, you know? And I don’t hold it against you, believe me, but you have everyone in a mad fuss.”
“Is that what the assholes at school say? That it’s all my fault. That I’m the reason everyone is preparing to go out and hunt demons.” Nick threw the pillow into the massive pile of clothes and books at the side of the bed.
Dan said nothing.
Nick groaned and sat up straighter. Crawling to the end of the bed, he creased the covers into bendy fingers as he went. “Man?”. He looked across at Dan from his new vantage point.
“Yea?” Dan looked up.
“I don’t want to send everyone into a fuss.”
Nick didn’t know how else to explain himself. He wasn’t a saviour or a god, he knew that for a fact. But he also knew that he had to be one. Everyone was relying on him to kill the demons. They said that once the demons were gone then the curse would disappear and they wouldn’t have to be beasts anymore. The thought of never having to become the gargoyle again made him ache with want. He had already hurt so many people. He was plagued by guilt every time he let himself think about it. He didn’t want to start a war either, but he didn’t have a choice. If he did nothing then who would everyone turn to? Would they hate him if he couldn’t save them?
Dan watched Nick then stood and opened the window. “Hey freaks!” he shouted at the waiting crowd, “we aren’t coming but see ya tomorrow.”
There were groans of protest and some jokes about staying in with your boyfriend, but the shouts were drowned out when Dan shut the window with a click.
“You don’t want to go?” Nick asked.
“Naw.” Dan waved his hand. “The red head is a bit crazy anyway.”
They sat in Nick’s room and laughed, played Xbox and ate too much pizza. When Nick’s parents came back, it was time for fight training. Dan stayed to fight too.
Nick always had very vivid dreams such as this one when he had been the gargoyle. He hurt as well. Something was lodged in his shoulder and it stung like a bitch. His head and chest throbbed too but he knew why that was. He missed Dan. He looked around the field which he had woken in and wondered where he was.
He tried to reach whatever it was that was in his body. Upon moving, the knife gnawed deeper into his skin and marked the bone. He yanked it out and blood flowed freely. He knew it would heal fast enough so he didn’t worry. Werewolves heal faster than men. The knife was crimson handled with a black blade. Along the blade were symbols he didn’t recognise. Leather was woven around the handle to give it a grip. Just looking at it brought images to the forefront of his mind. A weird guy vomiting, feathers, and Abyzou. He threw the knife into the ground and yelled at the sky. He heard the sound like it came from someone else. He had gotten his chance and the blood thirsty thing inside him had let her go. It would kill innocent people as soon as breathe but it had failed to destroy the demon who had taken Dan from him. Hot tears sprang to his eyes and he leaned down and picked up the knife. He held it hard enough to make the muscles in his hand shake with effort. His mind was infected by images of cutting her open and letting the wolves drink her filthy blood from the ground where their families were buried. They would lap it up, staining their pink tongues black. Their fur would clump in the splashes of it that sprayed from her like terrible rain.
Once he had gained control of himself, he started to stomp through the grass. It was long, like the tails of rats, so he walked as if on the moon. Nick knew he would find some kind of bloodshed, but he was surprised when he saw it. A mass of cows lay just over a hill in the field. They were piled around each other like children’s toys who were forgotten. Each one was butchered from its heart to its stomach. Cut open in wide gashes all over the body. They were strings of spaghetti coated in a drying bolognaise sauce. Some lumps of organs were thrown into the farther corners of the grass. But the
re were no people. No human bodies torn up until they were barely human anymore.
His fingertips and toes went numb and he held his breath. The cows made him sick, but the lack of humans made him dizzy with joy and shock. He laughed and cheered thanks to God. Perhaps he had finally done it. Turned into a devil and left all the innocent humans well enough alone. The day was warming up in the rising sun and Nick smiled. If only you could see me now, Nick thought to Dan. I am doing it.
I am in control. He remembered letting Abyzou go. He was mostly in control, and next time, she will die.
Chapter 9
“Draw me a picture Louis!”
The television had been singing about this little cartoon rabbit for some time and Ivan knew the words now, so he could sing along in a hushed tone. Around him, Ciara sat on the sofa chewing her nails and watching something Ivan could not see. Zerachiel had mostly recovered and had put the broken part of his wing somewhere safe that Ivan wasn’t allowed to know about. Zerachiel stood leaning on the wall, his injured back covered by a new jacket. Abyzou was sitting on the windowsill, glaring out at the world. She ran her thumb back and forth across her bottom lip and hummed parts of a tune every few minutes. Once or twice her teeth would break out and chew on the soft pink skin and leave dents in the digit.
Zerachiel’s eyes were shiny every time Ivan dared to look at them.
Yet Ivan was determined to have a good day. The events of the night were behind him and it was time for a fresh start. As a rule, he tried to never think about the day once it had passed. He sang along with a tiny cartoon rabbit while said rabbit drew pictures which came to life. It helped him to block out the negative energy in the room which had become so powerful that it felt like it was pressing a weight down on his shoulders.
Zerachiel spoke first. “We need a plan.” His voice was grave.
“I have one.” The demon on the windowsill mused.
Ciara glanced between the two of them.
“Want to share it with us then?” It sounded like an accusation and Zerachiel gave her a hard look.
“We wait at the dump where the wolves live.”
“He will never come back there that’s a dumb move.”
Abyzou rolled her eyes at the angel’s claim.
“When he can’t find the wolves, he will go back to the last place he saw them.” Abyzou spoke as if addressing a child.
“The last place he saw them was on the floor on his way out.” The comment had slipped out of Ivan’s mouth before he could add the sympathy that was meant to accompany it. Ciara cringed and cuddled into the sofa. It shielded her in puffy pillows.
“He won’t remember that.” Abyzou returned to watching out the window. The sun stained her hair with a gold hue.
“Fine,” Zerachiel said, “we will go back there and this time we will be armed and ready to take him down.”
Ivan stopped staring at the cartoon for the first time in a while.
“We will what?” His voice rose a pitch and he took a moment to get it under control. “Cause I could have sworn I heard you say we will go in and poke a really angry monster with weapons that won’t even scratch his paint work.”
Zerachiel lifted the sword from its place by the door. “We have this.”
Ivan stood up. This caused Ciara to bounce as the cushions on the sofa moved. The reaper began pacing. With each word his steps got faster and faster.
“No. No way. I wanted to live not die in a memorable way. We are not going in to fight that thing with one sword.” He raised a finger. “And if you think I will be stabbing anything then you are way off base my friend. I did it once and it hurt my stomach more than my victim. I am fine with cleaning up after the murderers, but I refuse to suffer to become one. No, I will not be going anywhere near any monsters.” He was almost jogging now.
Abyzou gnawed on her thumb again.
Ciara raised her hand and Ivan stopped in his tracks. He thrust his arms at her. “What? What do you want?”
“I want to ask a question.”
“It looks like you are looking for a high-five.” Ivan shook his head and dropped onto the sofa again. Ciara bounced.
“What choice do you have?” she asked him after a pause. Everyone in the room knew that the monster was a danger to the world but that wasn’t what Ciara meant. Everyone also knew that the escapees from hell were Ivan’s and Zerachiel’s responsibility. Ivan thought of the woman who haunted his existence. As a reaper, she could follow him forever. She would not stop. Not until he did what she wanted.
“I don’t want to die,” Ivan said.
Zerachiel watched the back of Ivan’s head with a sympathetic look.
“We might succeed,” Zerachiel said, “then everything would go back to how it is meant to be.”
Ivan clasped his hands. The sound of them whispering together filled the room. Outside a horn blared and ceased before Ivan spoke.
“I don’t want to die, no matter how it happens.” He pushed himself up and stormed past Zerachiel and his worried looks, past Abyzou and her razer glare and past Ciara and her fear which stank in the air.
Once outside, Ivan felt he could breathe again. The air had never chilled his throat so beautifully. Spreading his fingers, he relished in how the wind played between them. The smell of exhaust fumes and people rushed through him and without thinking he began to run. Drinking in the odd looks which people gave him. Loving that they saw him at all. He knew that this feleing of being seen was the exact reason why he could never go back to how things were. It was bad being invisible before but now that he knew what it felt like on the other side it would be worse.
When he stopped he was at a lake. Ripples raced each other to the shore and Ivan stuck his fingers in to touch them. The water was cold, and he shivered. He thought about everything and at once all he felt was a crushing dread. He needed release, so he stepped four steps back and ran full pelt at the lake. He wanted to get away from this feeling. He needed to distract himself by feeling something else. When he reached the edge, he bounded into the water. It chimed up in splashes and he laughed. It was so cold it hurt his skin as it soaked through his suit. Running, he got deeper and deeper into the freedom of the water. It gurgled up and surrounded his middle. Fish flicked away to escape him. Soon, he was up to his chin in water. He sniffed up water when he took a breath and coughed it out again. The smell of the fish was new, and he tried to inhale it without the danger of drowning. Failing this, he ran without caring. The water blanketed his head. Ivan’s mouth filled. He didn’t think to hold his breath. He had never had to before.
Water invaded him. He started flailing around, arms swinging this way and that. It occured to him that his life should be flashing before his eyes.
He wasn’t under for very long before something pulled him up. In a newfound panic due to lack of oxygen, Ivan used the object to push himself above the surface. He swallowed a few breaths and then catapulted himself from the object towards shallow water. His leg hit a stone as he staggered towards the shore, but he didn’t notice pain if there was any. Once on dry land, Ivan spotted something odd. Someone else was running in.
As they ran, they screeched “James, James, James.”
The woman hit the water and disappeared from view, beneath the surface. Ivan would have forgotten about her except next she dragged a man from the water and laid him on the ground. The man, who Ivan assumed was James, was not moving and his friend was freaking out. She started pushing on his chest with all her might.
That’s bound to hurt Ivan thought.
James eventually vomitted up buckets of water and Ivan cringed. Gross.
The woman rubbed James’s back and he turned to Ivan. “You okay man?”
“No, I’m not.” Ivan shivered. “I just watched you vomit up manky water.”
The woman’s face bent into an expression which Ivan was afraid of. “He nearly died saving you. How can you say that?”
“You think he has problems?” Ivan scoffed. “I don’t
even have enough of a life to flash before my eyes.”
The woman glared and shook her head.
Ivan started to leave as the look in her eyes was one he had seen before on murderers.
As he walked Ivan started to think about how his time as one of the living was almost up. If the woman reaper had her way, then he would be back collecting souls before too long. He glanced back towards the couple again. She was knelt beside James and cupped his face between red varnished fingernails. He obsessively watched skin stroking skin. The light soundless “I love you” which ran from her touch to him. Ivan held up his own hand before his face. Just like that of everyone else he saw lines all over his palm. Some people try to make sense of this maze, but Ivan knew in his heart that the lines did not tell the future. He didn’t have one to tell. He would do the same thing forever. A bird called out and flew over his head. He wanted to jump aboard. He wanted to fly. He wanted to drown just to feel the choking or fall to experience the scrapes. He wished he could kiss just to taste someone else. One final look back at James saw him walking hand in hand with the woman. Ivan wiggled his own fingers.
“Hey!” Ciara called to him. She was dashing towards him. Her hair flew around her, and her eyes were huge with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Of course.” Ivan made a show of inhaling deeply. “The day is marvellous. There is every reason to want to go for a walk, isn’t there?”
Ciara rolled her eyes and smirked. “I thought as a reaper you might prefer grim days.” She nudged Ivan’s arm. Ivan pushed away the persistent thoughts of his hopelessness and smiled with her.
“Come on.” He gestured towards the town. “Let’s go and do something.”
Ciara nibbled the top of her lip. “Like what?”
“Anything. I saw some people kicking a ball about the other day. Let’s do that.”
“We don’t have a ball.”
He shrugged. “I’m sure we will find something to kick.”
Ciara laughed and the two walked back into the city. The wind roared and clouds the size of mountains rolled in.