Through the In Between, Hell Awaits

by Robert Essig

  Nodding, Austin said, “Yes, of course I’ll help you. Not that I have a choice.”

  “You don’t.”

  They had both forgotten about Audrey until she moaned. She grabbed her stomach, and before Austin could come to her aide, she doubled over and puked into the bone white sand. It was as if someone had turned on a faucet within her stomach, and the outpouring was a slimy liquid with thick strands of blood. As the discharge hit the ground, it writhed tumultuously like something alive before splitting into several entities that dove into the sand and out of sight.

  Austin stood there with his mouth agape. “What the hell just happened?”

  “She’s sick.”

  “But . . . I thought . . . ”

  “There is no death aside from this pit, but there is everything else. Pain and suffering is a way of life. Sickness can last for an eternity. She caught something from the demons and fuck-ups that . . . used her body.”

  Austin took to his knees, wrapping his arms around Audrey’s shivering body. Her breath smelled of rotten fish and sewer gas, but Austin held her nonetheless, and though he had never been a religious man, he prayed for her.

  “She’ll be stable,” said Yrictus. “Even if she doesn’t get better, she will remain alive.”

  Austin felt a sudden urge to lash out at Yrictus and his nonchalance about this wretched world, but he refrained. It wasn’t this sentinel’s fault. More troubling than anything was that the one who was at fault for Audrey’s sickness was the only one that could help them.

  “I have to leave for a little while,” said Yrictus.

  “What?” Austin couldn’t hide the shock and fear in his voice. He had to admit to himself that Yrictus made him feel diminutive. It was strange and new for him to feel small and insecure. It wasn’t like him.

  “Not that long. Just enough time to gather another of my tribal members. I will not resurrect Baz alone. He may be volatile, and I would rather have another sentinel present in that case.”

  “What about us?” asked Austin.

  “You will have to wait here. If you conceal yourself, you will be safe.”

  “You’ve already said nothing here is truly safe. You expect me to believe that we can wait here for you and not end up dea— Like Audrey was at the crossroads, or tossed into the pit.”

  Yrictus’ eyes deepened, their mercury consistency roiling and bubbling almost black. “You have no choice.” He turned and walked back the way they came.

  Austin wanted to say something, but there was nothing he could do to change the sentinel’s mind. It was better to leave him be and hope for the best. He saw something in Yrictus’ eyes that he hadn’t seen previously that frightened him. As with the Baz and Dagana, Yrictus was capable of atrocity, no matter how kind he had been. As was death, kindness was something the In between knew nothing about.

  “Can you stand?” Austin asked Audrey.

  She looked up at him from her crouched position in the sand that clung to her sweaty skin in pale patches. Her eyes were red and glossed over, her mouth slack and moistened with tendrils of vomit that appeared to glisten as it wriggled on her face like some active amoebic entity, and who knew how much was still in her body. Austin shuddered at his initial thought when she threw up moments ago. He didn’t want to admit it, but the substance looked like semen. He didn’t even want to consider the things she was tortured into doing.

  “I think so.” She replied. Her voice was fragile and forced, and seemed as if it would shatter given too much force.

  Austin shushed her and wiped her face of the living demon seed, for he was now certain that was what it was. He wondered if he would ever be able to look at her the same and he knew he would, one day, after all of this was over. There was nothing she could do about what happened to her, and deep in his heart he felt responsible for her torments, and that was something he would never forgive himself for, though he promised himself that he would do everything in his power to make up for it.

  In wiping her face with his bare hand (there wasn’t anything else to use, and by this time Austin was well acquainted with vileness), he was mildly surprised at the texture of the stuff. It squirmed, and before he could fling his hand to rid himself of the putrid seed, it slithered up his arm and took refuge in one of his itching bites, burying itself in the red, wet flesh like transparent oversized and determined leeches. Austin yelped. It reminded him of the parasite he’d contracted from the dead body in the alley that began this horrible misadventure. They sank into his body and soon enough he had no feeling of them, as if they had dissolved or become a part of him.

  “Oh god,” whispered Audrey. “What’s going on? What’s happening to us?”

  With cognizance seeping into her mind, Austin felt terribly sorry for Audrey. Her eyes were alive with a thousand horrors wrapped in a million torments. He asked himself whether she would ever be the same, and he couldn’t answer that question. He just hoped she blocked enough of it out to spare herself a life of torment through bad memories and flashbacks.

  Austin scratched the bite where the demon seed dwelt. “We have to hide until Yrictus gets back.”

  “Who?”

  Austin held out his hand. Audrey took it and rose to her feet, wincing from pained joints, cuts, and bruises.

  “I’ll fill you in, but we have to get out of sight.”

  36

  Yrictus returned to the crossroads optimistic that he was finally on the road to returning the In Between to what it was intended for. He was in direct communication with Beelzebub, who so happened to be Satan’s right-hand demon. Though time was fragmented and impossible to track, in many ways it was running out. Due to their previous friendship as caseworkers in Hell, Beelzebub and Yrictus were tight, and Beelzebub has been keeping the state of the In Between from Satan’s knowledge, which was an insanely dangerous thing to do. How long the lie would last, Yrictus didn’t know.

  Of those left of his tribe, there was only one who Yrictus felt confidant could and would assist in the resurrection of Baz, especially considering the resistance Baz would undoubtedly show once he was himself again.

  The way to Demonicus was through a road off the crossroads, lined with needles and hashmore bushes and paved with the remains of aborted creatures. It was quite revolting as Yrictus walked the gently shifting and breathing pathway. He was unnerved, not so much at the creepy walk to Demonicus’ gate, but at what he was to expect.

  Demonicus had been a sentinel for about as long as Yrictus. They were two of the original sentinels to be damned to the In Between, and they worked well together back then, keeping the child demons safe in their development. They had a hand in choosing the others who eventually made up the clan of sentinels that guarded the twelve gates through which the demon children were allowed to live without having to fear the viciousness of the wanderers and rejects, specters, and monstrosities.

  Back then the In Between was a well oiled machine, the tribe meeting regularly and governing with an iron fist. They kept the undesirables out of the twelve incubation realms and led the young demon warriors-to-be through the portal to Hell where they dedicated the remainder of their lives serving Satan.

  The needles and hashmore bushes attested to to the fact that Demonicus had a taste for mind-altering substances. He’d discovered an insect resembling a black widow spider that was toxic green rather than black, with a black spiral on its underbelly. Eating the spider brought forth visions that Demonicus was convinced allowed him to see through the realms into parallel worlds, but really it was nothing more than visions. He became hapless, which, consequentially, was another reason the tribe fell apart.

  The gate was wide open, which struck Yrictus as a bad sign. Even if Demonicus was in the midst of a drug frenzy, he could be of use. He was a large creature with skin like silk wrapped tightly over a body of pure muscle. His head was speckled with spikes and horns that created an image that could incite nightmares in even the hardest demon. And he was indeed vicious. The drugs—par
ticularly the hashmore bush—calmed him a bit, but deep down he was as formidable as any sentinel.

  There were several strange creatures watching Yrictus as he entered Demonicus’ domain. The open gate would do nothing to prevent such ravenous beasts from making this land a hunting ground. They watched, but were smart enough not to make the first move. The matted fur and scars that covered their bodies were evidence that they had been involved in many a battle.

  As with any of the lands of the In Between, time was something that stretched forever in every direction yet led very quickly to every destination, even when said destination was relatively unknown, as was the destination Yrictus was currently searching for. He found it, though, very shortly after entering Demonicus’ realm.

  It was a large tree with a flourish of gangling branches that hung all around, reaching for the ground, where the tips of the branches rooted themselves the way a vine or strawberry plant does. Where the branches took root, new plants sprouted, adorned with clusters of fresh buds on the verge of flowering.

  It was the largest hashmore bush Yrictus had ever seen. In fact, it was more like a hashmore tree, and at the center, hidden behind the foliage and clouds of smoke that emanated from the thick boughs, was Demonicus.

  Staring at the tree, entranced in its rich exuberance and lush yield, it took a while for Yrictus to see Demonicus’ staggeringly deflated form. In that moment, when he saw the beady red eyes, Yrictus’ jaw gaped in disbelief. The form was spindly and fragile, pale and wasted. If it hadn’t been for the distinct array horns and spikes on the head, Yrictus would have thought the being to be another stain on the face of the In Between.

  “Demonicus?” said Yrictus, apprehensively. It could be no other, yet he was in disbelief. He’d never seen one of his tribe members in such squalor.

  A cackle erupted from the foliage followed by a large plume of smoke. He was smoking the hashmore just about as quick as it could grow, and that particular weed grew quicker than seaweed.

  From surprise and amazement, Yrictus’ face deepened into anger and fury at the state of Demonicus. He knew the potential for his old friend was questionable, but he did not expect this.

  The gleaming red eyes from within the hashmore tree stared as Yrictus took survey of the land around him. It was in ruins. Far worse than any of the other lands that the sentinels once protected with great pride. Baz and Dagana may have broken up the tribe with their abrupt departure, but this would have happened anyway. Demonicus was already on this path. Yrictus just hadn’t realized how bad his dependency on hashmore was.

  “Why don’t you come out of there?” asked Yrictus. He wondered if this was all worth it. He had dreams of the In Between returning to what it once was, which would save them all from the fiery pits of Hell that they were looking forward to considering what they have done to a land Satan had relegated to them. The young demons were striving for themselves, and the state of the ones who lived to return to Hell was questionable at best.

  “No,” said Demonicus. His voice cracked as if it hadn’t been used in quite some time.

  “Why?”

  “I cannot leave here. Not anymore. Things have changed. Haven’t you noticed, Yrictus?”

  Yrictus chuckled at Demonicus’ attempt at humor. The changes were secret to no one. They were a whole new way of life, and now that Baz and Dagana were close enough for Yrictus to touch, he had to do everything in his power to destroy them and regroup with the tribe.

  “What’s happened to you?” asked Yrictus.

  “Come closer.”

  Red eyes stared at Yrictus through the hashmore leaves. There was no reason for him to be wary of Demonicus, but there was something about his eyes, the unnatural red that glowed like a demon cat’s eyes, that caused him to pause a moment before approaching the tree.

  The closer he came to the tree, the more clearly he could see what was left of Demonicus. His once muscular body had wasted away to a mere shell of the girth it once beheld. What was once taught silken flesh was now a spectacle of mottled scales that resembled tree bark. And then, as Yrictus halted at the very edge where the treetops plummeted into the ground, he saw what had happened. Demonicus rested in what, from a distance, appeared to be a sitting position. Now it was clear that he had no legs, and that the mottled torso was indeed a thick growth sprouting from the side of the tree. His arms were upraised; the fingers that had once ended in black claws, now branched off skyward in healthy hashmore branches.

  Yrictus stood there staring at this thing that was once a fearsome sentinel. He’d become so enamored with his precious drugs that he was becoming them.

  “What did you do to yourself?” asked Yrictus again.

  A branch from the hashmore tree drooped in front of Demonicus’ face. A flame was produced from another branch, igniting the tender buds of the former branch. Tendrils of smoke rose, and then, much like a mosquito’s proboscis, his tongue slithered out of his mouth twisted in a circle like a straw. Stretching his tongue close to the burning hashmore bud, he sucked in the smoke using a method that had been dubbed “chasin’ the screamin’ demon.” After a strong inhale, Demonicus exhaled the smoke in Yrictus’ face.

  “I am no longer Demonicus. Demonicus died when the gates of the In Between were blown wide open. This is now the land demons and distortions go to when they want to get high. That’s all this place is used for anymore.”

  “So you have become fused to this hashmore tree and that’s it. You’re content with this kind of dismal existence?”

  Demonicus took another hit from the smoking bud. He exhaled and said, “It’s better than having to survive for a living.”

  “But aren’t you doing just that? Merely surviving?”

  “I don’t have to do anything anymore. All I have to do is get high, and my supply never ends. It’s me, after all.”

  “What about Satan? Do you not fear him?”

  “No. What the hell is he gonna do to me?”

  “Cause immense suffering . . . forever.”

  “Not me.” Demonicus grinned. “I’m rooted here.”

  “But wouldn’t you like things the way they used to be?”

  Yrictus thought he saw a glimmer in Demonicus’ red eyes, but he couldn’t be sure. His head was probably swimming with intoxication.

  “I don’t remember those days.”

  A sound disrupted their conversation. Something was shaking the leaves at the back of the hashmore tree, quite vigorously.

  “Another miserable fuck trying to steal my hashmore,” said Demonicus.

  “I’ll take care of them,” said Yrictus as he rounded the tree in search of the pilfering fool.

  “No need. I have security for that.”

  Just as Yrictus made his way to the rear of the bushy tree he saw the most disgusting, unscrupulous bastard of a demon was yanking handfuls of ripe buds with a voraciousness that indicated a severe addiction.

  The demon was pale and thin, and its eyes grew in its head as it caught a glimpse of Yrictus, whose face was fixed with a look of anger, but before he could make a move against the thief, a monstrous brute came out of nowhere. It was a Cyclops and the eye stamped on the middle of his forehead was a lens that moved in and out as if focusing on its prey. The junkie demon took off in a flash, but the ten-foot tall Cyclops lurched after him. It was a quick kill. The Cyclops palmed the back of the demon’s head with his massive hand and squeezed. The head popped into a burst of jellied brains and the body fell to the ground where it twitched and flailed before it stood and, blindly, ran away.

  The Cyclops eyed Yrictus, but refrained from taking action against him, not that Yrictus couldn’t take him. The lens retracted into its face jest before it retreated into the mist and out of sight.

  Back at the front of the hashmore tree, Demonicus said, “I have two of them. They haven’t done me wrong . . . yet. There are so many evils roaming around raping and killing everything in sight that I need security.”

  “The Demonicus I knew d
idn’t need security.”

  “I am not Demonicus.”

  “You were. Why did you decide to change? You could have dealt with anything. That’s why I came here. I was hoping you could help me.”

  “If you are so strong, why do you need my help?”

  “I’ve done just fine through the fall of the In Between, but that doesn’t mean I like it this way. You know why I need help. There are two of our tribe to blame for . . . this. You were a bit of a junkie back then, but I have no doubt that you regressed, as you have, due to their destruction of our trust in one another. It’s a lot easier being rooted there and having henchmen to deal with your troubles, right? A lot easier to tune out and . . . become a part of your environment.”

  Demonicus’ eyes dropped to mere slits, which could indicate the drugs were kicking in or his discontent in what he was hearing. Yrictus hoped it was the latter.

  “What happens when you turn into this tree completely? Will you then be consumed by junkie demons and distortions until you are no more than lost wisps of smoke stolen by the sky? I thought there was only one way to die here, but you are showing me yet another method.” Yrictus leaned in close enough so that he could smell the pungent sweetness of the hashmore buds, his face nearly touching the leaves of the drooping branches. “Is this your idea of suicide?”

  Demonicus didn’t answer. His slanted eyes now appeared hollow, which was more fitting considering the sad state he was in.

  “Is this really what you want? I’m telling you now, it doesn’t end well, and don’t be so stupid to think that you can evaporate into the atmosphere. You can’t. There’s no way out of here but through Hell. Hell awaits us all in the end, but we can prolong that end if we can regain control of the In Between once again, and I know how we can do just that. But I need your help.