by Darren Shan
“Hiding and surviving,” Bec echoes. “Are we going to slaughter the weak and innocent, Grubbs? Is that what we’ve sunk to? If it is, I don’t think we should stop with the Demonata. We should destroy ourselves too. If we can’t grant mercy to those who’ve done us no harm, we have no more right to this universe than those we’ve fought so hard against.”
“OK,” I snap. “There’s no need to rub it in. I see where you’re coming from. We’ll leave the weak ones alone, those who can’t cross, those who don’t pose a threat. But the masters have to be taken out—I won’t budge on that. Any beast that even looks like it has the potential to cross, to defy us, to pick at and weaken the structure of the Kah-Gash… we wipe them out now.”
“We could isolate them,” Bec murmurs. “Imprison them in a place where they can’t—”
“No!” I bark. “They’re too much of a risk. We kill every master going. I won’t bend on this one. They have this coming to them, and I’m going to see that they get it.”
“We have to do it,” Kernel says, trying to win Bec round. “They found a way to destroy the Kah-Gash before. They could do it again. To guarantee order, we have to remove them. It’s the only way to be sure.”
Bec sighs, then nods reluctantly.
“I knew you’d see sense,” I chuckle, then grin viciously, the old wolfen Grubbs Grady reemerging momentarily. “Let’s give them hell!”
And the massacre begins.
DEVILMENT
The demon masters perish in their millions. They don’t see us coming and are helpless in the face of our wrath. We sweep through the white zones like a cosmic wind, obliterating all who pose a threat. We don’t torment those we kill. Unlike these vile monsters, we’re not evil-hearted and don’t wish to cause pain. I’d be lying if I said part of me doesn’t enjoy the cull, but I don’t revel in it.
Because time doesn’t work like it did before, the culling is both swift and drawn out, lasting the drawing of a breath and the birth and death of a dozen suns. It happens across all thirty-two zones at the same time. We don’t have to localize. We can be everywhere at once, moving across the face of a million worlds in the same instant.
We blow through the demonic zones with godlike barbarism, felling all who need to be eliminated. We don’t bother with bodies or battles. We move as spirits, a force of nature, and the demon masters are crushed, never knowing what struck them, most dying without a chance to even howl in retaliation.
It’s clinical and cruel, precise to a devilish degree. We rip through the white zones, staining them red, killing every demon master in existence… except one. Him we save for the end. The rest are vipers to be crushed. We go about our work dispassionately. But with the last one, it’s personal. It’s payback time, and I know that when I look into his dark red eyes and see the final flame of life flicker out, I’ll be so ecstatic I could burst.
When all the other masters have been taken care of, and only one remains, deliberately isolated and spared, we create bodies for ourselves and fade into existence outside his castle of webs. The demon is waiting for us at the edge of the moat running around the fortress, sitting on the throne that used to rest inside. He looks more alone than ever, bereft of all his peers. But not scared. He’s aware of everything that’s happened—I made sure he could hear and see it all, so he’d know we were coming for him—but to my surprise he doesn’t look afraid.
“Welcome again, my young friends,” Lord Loss says, clapping cynically. “You have grown in stature since your last visit. Your incineration of the demon masters was impressive, if overzealous. Beranabus would have approved, but I wonder if Dervish would have, or Meera Flame?”
“We did what had to be done,” Kernel growls.
“I would say you did far more than that,” Lord Loss counters. “The powerful masters from the original universe I can understand. They posed a threat and always would have. But what of the lesser masters, those with powers similar to mine? You could have easily prevented them from crossing or attacking you. They posed no threat. You could have left them to patrol the depths of their realms and harm none except their own. Yet you chose to kill them too. You rained hellfire down on all.”
“Because you were all as bad as each other,” I snarl.
“In whose eyes?” Lord Loss asks. “Yours?”
“Yes.”
He smiles mockingly. “Who gave you the right to pass judgment on an entire species, Grubitsch Grady?”
“No one. I took it.”
“How demonic of you,” Lord Loss purrs.
“If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, you’ll need to do better than that,” I sneer.
“I doubt if I am required to sow the seeds of guilt,” he murmurs. “Eternity stretches ahead of you. Given time, I believe your conscience will torment you of its own accord.”
“He’s boring me,” I yawn, glancing at the others. “You ready to kill him?”
“Yes,” Kernel says eagerly, taking a step forward.
“Wait,” Bec mutters. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s staring at her feet.
“You don’t feel sorry for him, do you?” I ask incredulously.
“No,” Bec says.
“You can’t feel any loyalty,” Kernel half laughs. “I know you played the part of his servant, but it was only an act.” He pauses. “Right?”
Bec looks up and takes a deep breath. “We struck a deal,” she says, and I groan.
“What sort of deal?” Kernel frowns.
“Never mind,” I snap before Bec answers. “We’re killing him. That’s final. I don’t care what was agreed between the two of you. Dervish, Bill-E, my mum and dad, Gret… all dead because of him. He perishes like the rest of his foul kind. No argument.”
“We can’t kill him,” Bec says miserably. “I hate him too. He killed people close to me or caused their deaths. But you saw us enter the Board together. We made a deal. If I don’t honor it…”
“What was the deal?” Kernel asks again.
“No!” I roar. “I don’t want to know. He’s a demon. We don’t owe him anything. I’m going to kill him, and if you try to stop me, I’ll—”
“Kill her too?” Lord Loss pipes up, relishing the conflict.
“Enjoy the show while you can,” I snarl, raising a hand to obliterate him.
The universe tightens around my fist, and it falls limp at my side. I whirl on Bec, fire in my eyes.
“The Kah-Gash can be split again,” she says. “If we fight with each other, we risk everything. Our sacrifices and endeavors will have been for nothing if we bicker and lose control. All that we knew and loved will be truly lost then.”
I count to ten, reining in my anger. Then, through gritted teeth, I say, “Tell me about the damn deal.”
“He helped us,” Bec says. “I told him of Bran’s plan to let the Demonata build a tunnel and break through, then use the Kah-Gash to tap into the power of the tunnel and take time back to its very beginning.”
“Lord Loss knew we’d kill all the demon masters?” Kernel gasps.
“Yes,” Bec says. “He thought we’d kill the familiars too. He didn’t believe I could persuade you and Grubbs to spare them.”
“And you let us go ahead?” I spit at the demon master.
“Why not?” he murmurs. “They meant nothing to me. A vile, beastly lot. The universe is better off without them.”
As Kernel and I gape at Lord Loss, Bec explains. “My betrayal was a charade. I slaughtered the souls in the Board, but I knew we’d have to kill a lot more than that if we were to triumph. We can bring them back to life later, the same as all the others.
“We tricked Death and the Demonata. Convinced them I was on their side, that I wanted to live forever as one of them. We needed Death to work through me, so I could control and subdue it when the Kah-Gash was reunited.”
“But if Death was part of you, didn’t it know what you were planning?” Kernel asks.
Bec shakes her head. “It didn’t have access t
o my inner thoughts, only those I chose to share with it. Death was new to consciousness. It had a lot to learn about the mind.” She smirks. “I guess now it never will.”
“I protected her from my savage brethren,” Lord Loss says. “I helped bring the three of you together and did what I could to ensure you were not killed before you had the chance to join. It was a risk, of course, but a calculated one, and in the end it proved to be enough.”
“But why?” I croak. “You’re a demon. You hate us.”
“Not at all,” he retorts. “I adore mankind. I’d have happily strung your guts out for cats to play with, Grubitsch, had things worked out differently. But humans… the games you invent… the sorrows you suffer…” He smiles at the memories.
“What do you get in return?” Kernel asks. “What did Bec promise?”
“My life,” Lord Loss replies. “And a promotion.” He looks at the stars twinkling far above us. “I was never as powerful as you believed. You realize that now, having seen and exterminated much stronger masters than me. I was a young, humble demon. That’s why I focused on Earth. I knew I could impress there, that if I made it my personal playpen, I could dominate the human realm of fear.”
“You chose to be a big fish in a small pond,” I snort.
Lord Loss tilts his head. “Stronger masters terrorized galaxies, inspiring horror across a multitude of worlds. I lacked that power, so I concentrated on a single planet. I tested several before I chose Earth. Your people appealed to me, for reasons I cannot put any of my fingers on. Perhaps I was guided by the Kah-Gash. Maybe even then it had selected your world to serve as its dramatic stage.”
“You’re pathetic,” I sneer, seeing my old foe in his true colors, astonished that I lived so long in fear of him, considering him the worst of any imaginable enemy.
“I was,” Lord Loss says calmly. “No longer. I am the last demon master, the final sentinel of sorrow. All of this universe’s demonic familiars must bow to my power now. I’ll also cast a dark shadow across the hearts and minds of the creatures in your universe, weaving my web of misery across more worlds than any master ever came close to before. I’ll be the source of every nightmare, the face behind each malicious mask of myth. I’ll sow fear everywhere my eye alights, and reap the rich rewards for all eternity.”
“What makes you think we’ll let you?” I challenge him.
“Bec promised,” he smiles.
I cock an eyebrow at the girl.
“We need him,” she says quietly. “Every developed world had its boogey men, evil spirits, devils. The universe requires a force of evil for the wicked to gravitate towards, a malevolent being that the dark-hearted can worship. If they can’t turn to Lord Loss, we’ll have to play that hideous role. I don’t want to be a monster to the twisted and the vicious of our own worlds. Do you?” she asks me. “Or you?” she throws the question at Kernel.
Kernel and I look at each other uneasily.
“Why him?” I grumble. “We can bring back one of the others that we killed, or use a familiar. It doesn’t have to be Lord Loss. I want to destroy him. After all he did to us…”
“They do say, ‘Better the devil you know,’” Lord Loss murmurs slyly.
“I gave him my word that we’d let him rule the white zones,” Bec says. “Plus, he vowed never to overstep the mark, to leave the Old Creatures alone, to cross only when authorized and always return to his own realm when his work is done. He won’t establish toeholds in the human universe, or allow his familiars to settle there either.”
“But the familiars won’t be able to cross universes this time,” Kernel frowns. “We’ll stop them.”
“We can’t,” Bec says. “History demands their presence. If we’re to let time unravel as it did before, every demon crossing will have to be recreated. I’ll work in tandem with Lord Loss, letting him know when and where his familiars should cross. When we reach the present—the time when we ended the universe—we’ll set him free to operate by himself as long as he respects the rules, and at that point we can put a stop to the crossings of lesser demons. Our people can be free of the monsters after that, but not before.”
“How can we trust him?” I growl.
“I gave my word,” Lord Loss says stiffly. “I have always honored a promise.”
I shake my head. “We’re better off without him. We can control and direct the familiars by ourselves. Lord Loss would be a threat. We’d have to watch him like a hawk.”
“No,” the demon master says. “That’s merely an excuse, Grubitsch. You wish to kill me to exact revenge. You cannot justify my execution any other way.”
“Then I won’t,” I shrug. “I’ll kill you and take your place. I’d rather that than let you carry on. You’re the reason I’m here, the cause of everything bad that ever happened to me. If it wasn’t for you, my parents would be alive, Dervish and Bill-E, all the others. I won’t spare you, not after the hell you’ve put me through. I’d rather burn.”
I raise a hand to wipe out the demon master. I’d meant to torment him before I finished him off, but now I’ll settle for a quick kill.
“Your words hold the key to my reprieve,” Lord Loss says calmly as I point a finger at him. His self-satisfied smirk infuriates me, but for some reason I can’t bring myself to strike. “If not for my interference, you wouldn’t have joined with Kernel and Bec. The Kah-Gash could never have been utilized as it was. All has been shattered to be rebuilt, but if not for my actions, it would have simply been destroyed.
“I put you through hell, yes, but it was a hell you needed to experience. The pain, suffering, death… all were necessary. I served the purpose of the universe, just as you did. If not for my dark presence, you would never have found the path you were required to travel.
“People need devils and dark gods, if only to give them a foe to rally against, an obstacle to overcome. Your people understood that there can be no light without darkness, no good without evil, no triumph without setbacks. You can’t kill me because I’m part of all that you are, all you’ve done and plan to do. You don’t have to like me. You can even loathe me. But you must accept me.”
I tremble with frustration. Part of me wants to whip him down, wipe that smirk from his face, kill him no matter what. But everything he says rings true. I owe it all to him, the good as well as the bad. As despicable as he is, he set this in motion. It wasn’t intentional, and he acted selfishly at every turn, but if Beranabus was right and some godly force in our universe chose heroes and molded them, maybe Lord Loss was part of the über plan, as vital a player as Bec, Kernel, or me.
“I’ll be watching you,” I snarl. “If you take just one wrong step…”
“Why should I?” he smiles. “I never yearned to conquer your world, Grubitsch, merely to revel in the torment of its many desperate souls. Now I will become the pit of darkness at the center of the entire universe, a web into which all the weak, helpess, and vindictive must fall. What more could I wish for?”
“I hope you choke on it,” I sneer, then let my body unravel and return to my ethereal state. The last thing I see through my human eyes is Lord Loss rubbing his eight stumpy hands together, leering eagerly, awaiting the dawn of time and the birth of the first of the billions whose misery he’ll wallow in like the ugly, heartless, flaccid, but essential leech that he is.
ONCE MORE, WITH FEELING
Lord Loss sows all the sorrows of the world
Lord Loss seeds the grief-starched trees
In the center of the web, lowly Lord Loss bows his head
Mangled hands, naked eyes
Fanged snakes his soul line
Curled inside like textured sin
Bloody, curdled sheets for skin
In the center of the web, vile Lord Loss torments the dead
Over strands of red, Lord Loss crawls
Dispensing pain, despising all
Shuns friends, nurtures foes
Ravages hope, breeds woe
Drinks moon
s, devours suns
Twirls his thumbs till the reaper comes
In the center of the web, lush Lord Loss is all that’s left
START ME UP
We pick a black square at random and set about putting together the building blocks of life. The three of us work as one, without having to discuss what we’re doing. Bec provides the memories, and thus the blueprints of what we need to start life again. Kernel manipulates the hidden strings of the universe to bring into being anything Bec desires. And I supply the power, channeling the energy of the Kah-Gash through them.
It’s a long, complicated process, yet at the same time swift and simple. This is what the Kah-Gash does. It’s like a person breathing, walking, talking, snapping his or her fingers. As humans we performed countless natural functions every second of the day. This is the same, only on a cosmic level.
The Old Creatures are aware of what we’re up to, and we can sense their seal of approval, even though we never communicate. They’re happy to drift along in their own zones. All they ever wanted was to be left alone, safe from the threat of the Demonata, to roam as they pleased. We can guarantee that now, so they have no further interest in us.
I wish we had it so easy. There are hard times ahead. Having to focus for billions of years… put worlds, ecosystems, and civilizations back the way they were… ensure every seed finds the egg it was meant to… guide every animal from a single-celled organism upwards, on every planet, in every galaxy… determine the deaths of all creatures, down to the fraction of a second of the date when they were meant to die…
It’s no walk in the park!
One problem we don’t have to worry about is the harvesting of souls. As strong as we are, there’s a higher force than the Kah-Gash. We can sense it, but we can’t define it, something greater than power, knowledge, life, or death. We could give it a name, but that’s not our job or our right. Let the beings of the universe name and worship the force in whatever ways they wish. We’re not here to provide answers, just to give others the opportunity to marvel at the secrets of the heavens and perhaps one day unravel the mysteries for themselves.