by Jason Beymer
“How much longer?” Lorraine asked as the little men approached her. “How long will that portal stay open?”
“It will shut the second Lord Avnas passes through.”
That was all she needed to know.
Lorraine held the red fountain pen in front of her like a dagger.
“What are you doing with that?” the slug asked.
Lorraine sprang forward. As the first man approached, she stuck the pen deep into his neck and ripped the club out of his hand.
“She stabbed Billy!” one of them shouted.
The others swung their clubs. Lorraine bashed one upside the head. More clubs pounded against her naked body.
“Max!” Lorraine called. “Get over here and help me.”
Max shook off the little people and hurried in her direction. “Dude, let me have a turn with the club.” She handed him one.
“It won’t do any good,” the slug said. “Lord Avnas will still be reborn.”
The little people closed in on her and Max. Lorraine pressed her back against the wet wall and held the club out in front of her. She waited impatiently for the new wave of three-foot bruisers to come.
As they did, she readied the weapon and swung it wildly, all the time screaming. The attackers backed off. Max laughed, a giddy, deep giggle, as he jabbed the club forward.
“That’s right, bitches!” he yelled. He smashed a kneecap and knocked a wee man to the ground, then pummeled him into the sludge.
One of the little people pointed to the opening. “The portal!”
“Later, fatty,” Max said. He tossed the club away and waved.
“Where are you going?” Lorraine reached for him.
Max skipped toward the enormous hole. “This place is freezing. I’m going through that bitchin’ portal to score me some weed.”
“No, Max!” Lorraine shouted. “Get back here!”
The men swarmed Lorraine. They clawed and beat her. She tried to fight back, but they kept coming.
“As I’ve stated before,” the slug said, “Lord Avnas’ birth is inevitable. You cannot stop it.”
“I have to try,” she managed.
Lorraine grabbed one of the men by the ankles. She swung him like a bat and knocked two of the others aside.
Max stopped halfway into the expanding hole, one arm and leg disappearing. “What the fuck, dude? How come I can’t go in all the way?”
“Why is Lord Avnas still here?” the slug asked.
A little man saluted and answered, “Sir, the host’s intake of innocent blood has complicated the delivery. We’re having trouble with the calibration.”
Max pressed his weight against the portal, wiggling his body farther into it.
“The hell with this,” Lorraine said. She dashed toward him, her feet slapping in the goop.
“Stop her!” the slug cried out. “Don’t let her near the boy.”
Lorraine took hold of the demon’s arm and pulled. The slug’s razor antennae swiped at her face, and she shrieked.
“Keep away from me, fatty,” Max said.
The hole in the wall grew larger, at least forty feet in diameter. The sound of tiny footsteps came from the hall. Thousands of them.
The slug monster screamed, “The portal is too big! Get the boy through now so it will close.”
All activity came to a sudden halt as the sound of feet grew nearer. Figures materialized in the darkness. A barrage of voices came with them, chanting “Freedom! Freedom!”
“The slaves have escaped the pens,” the slug said. “Close the portal. We cannot allow any of them to pass through the open womb in place of Lord Avnas.”
The little men shoved Lorraine out of the way. She lost her grip on the demon. Someone pressed an oversized red button marked Emergency. The opening slammed shut, and the portal slapped against Max’s bare skin. “Ow!” The edges bent, creating a tight rubber seal around his body and trapping him between worlds.
The computer terminals smoked, one of them exploded, and the smell of burnt toast permeated the air.
“Only one soul is allowed to pass through,” the slug said. “And it must be Lord Avnas’s.”
Lorraine reached for Max again. “Not if I can help it!” she cried.
* * * *
Wanda broke free of the fangs and scampered away on her hands and knees, leaking Netherite. She made it to an alcove and huddled against the wall. The senator pounced onto her back, drove her into the ground, and ripped flesh from her shoulder in ribbons.
A wet gurgle escaped Wanda’s lips. “The baby … being born now.”
Garrick smiled. “Yes, but Max won’t come out. We’ll make sure of that.”
“He has to come!”
Garrick eyed the commotion. One of the hotel windows shattered as a brick flew through it. More groups of political protestors clashed in front of the loading zone. The police worked to get the situation under control, but fights continued to break out everywhere. This presented Garrick with a great distraction: law enforcement hadn’t noticed the senator chowing down on Wanda’s buttocks. The two women struggled with each other in the alcove, away from prying eyes, but they wouldn’t stay unnoticed for long.
Garrick wiped Netherite from his forehead, where his son had whacked him with the tripod. He knelt beside the gorging monster and touched her arm. “Madame Senator? I’m here. I will help you through this, as I did seventeen years ago.”
Madame Senator’s face had gone feral. She looked up from Wanda’s inside left thigh, sized Garrick up like a Cajun side dish, then returned to devouring Wanda.
“She’s too far gone,” Garrick said to Burklin. “Check and see if anything’s coming out yet.”
“Gross,” Burklin said.
“The senator has devoured human blood, and with her established connection to the Nether … well, human blood is a lubricant.”
Burklin raised an eyebrow. “Lube?”
“The portal will be too large. I suspect Lorraine and Max will have competition. The Nether’s slaves might seize this opportunity.”
“What do you mean? A whole bunch of demons are about to fly out of McPhee’s vagina?”
“No,” Garrick said, struggling with the senator’s arms. “Only one soul is allowed through. They’ll all be fighting to be that one soul.”
Wanda grimaced. She locked her remaining eye on Garrick. “Let Max come,” she said. “Once Max is out, portal closes.”
Garrick smirked at her. “Right. That’s a great idea to ensure my continued existence. No, I’m only interested in getting Lorraine out. Burklin, roll the senator on her back and get her naked.” Garrick grabbed McPhee by the hair and pulled her off Wanda. Wanda scrambled away, against the alcove wall. Black goo spurted from her open wounds. McPhee’s sharp, glittering talons swiped at the air. Burklin helped Garrick tackle her.
He pulled off McPhee’s panties while dodging the kicking feet. Pearl moved past him and stuck her nose between the senator’s open legs. She sniffed once, then growled.
“Pearl,” Burklin said, “can you stop thinking about your stomach for two seconds?”
“I’m trying to help,” the dachshund said. “A baby’s coming, but it’s not Lorraine. Push it back in.”
A white, fleshy object emerged through Senator McPhee’s pubic hair.
At first Burklin thought a bowel movement had come out of the wrong hole. Then he thought it might be a pink potato, until the potato grew an arm and a hand.
* * * *
“Get in there!” the little men screamed. They pushed on Max’s head and shoulders, attempting to wedge him through the tight space. The demon melded with the wall, half in and half out.
A stampede of sharp-toothed slaves rushed into the cavern, not one over a foot tall. The tiny monsters’ steps rumbled along the cavernous floor. Soon they passed the slug and fought their way through the Hawaiian shirts. They pounced on those wedging Max into the portal, their forked tails and claws shredding anyone nearby.
Lorraine stood in the shadow of the giant slug, watching. She backed up against the cavern wall. The black goop slid down her neck, lathering it with the vinegary oil. She allowed it to cascade over her. The tingling warmth caressed every inch of her nakedness, slowly working its way over her pudgy frame. She closed her eyes and held her breath, feeling it dribble over her nose, cheeks and hair.
Then she opened her eyes.
Now or never.
“Don’t even think it,” the slug said.
Lorraine rushed forward, still holding the club. She batted away the grotesque demons and tiny men, screaming. Some of them looked at her. The rest struggled to gain access to the portal. The monsters clawed and scratched at her tarred flesh, teeth gnashing at her goopy arms. She continued on, inching closer to her goal.
Finally, she dropped the club, leaped at the portal, and pressed her oiled body against Max’s.
“What the fuck?” the demon lord shrieked. “Get off me, fat bitch. You’re gross.”
Lorraine’s tarred body stank like rotten eggs and vinegar, but was slick as bacon grease. She flattened herself against the boy. She couldn’t go to the slave pens. She couldn’t allow Max’s birth. Only one option:
Out.
Lorraine pulled one of Max’s arms free and slid beneath it. Her body melded with his and they became one: flesh upon flesh. She strained every muscle in her back, pushed forward, pulled the portal open a few inches more, but lacked the strength to get all the way through. After a tremendous amount of effort, she slipped half her body into the opening, as if sliding into a wetsuit ten sizes too small. Flatulent sounds erupted from all around them.
“Ooh, gross! Gross!” Max said. They’d become two reluctant lovers, copulating despite themselves. Lorraine worked her way along his leg and rubbed against his genitals.
She refused to give up.
* * * *
Senator Kamilla McPhee struggled beneath Garrick’s grip, her face drawn, her teeth snapping. She kicked the air.
“Stay down!” Garrick yelled. He leaned his weight against her chest.
“Keep her pinned,” Burklin said.
“I can’t, son. Not for much longer. You have to hurry.”
Burklin eyed the opening between the senator’s legs. “Nothing’s coming out down here.”
He could see Garrick losing the battle, his bulk shifting as the senator’s claws swiped at him. And even with Pearl jumping up and down on the bloated stomach, the woman would get up. Worse, the police officers almost had the protestors under control. Any moment, they would turn their attention from the crowd to this messy carnival sideshow.
Burklin needed to improvise.
“What are you doing?” Garrick asked. “Help me hold her down.”
“Idea.” Burklin scrambled away.
“Get back here!”
Burklin ignored the old man and reached for Wanda’s shivering body. The flesh hung from her back in tatters. He grabbed her by the ankle and pulled.
“Let go of me!” Wanda demanded.
Burklin dragged the Asian woman across the carpet, buried his knee into the senator’s chest, and set Wanda’s calf over her nose. “Eat,” he said.
Kamilla bit into Wanda’s foot with an orgasmic moan. She dug her claws deep into the ankle.
“That’ll keep her occupied.” Burklin looked at what little flesh remained on Wanda’s body. “Though not for long.”
“Clever boy,” Garrick said. “I take back what I said about your limited improvisational skills.”
Senator McPhee’s legs went limp as she dined. Between her thighs, something emerged once again. Garrick pointed to what resembled half a butt.
A tiny penis popped out.
“I don’t think that’s Lorraine,” Burklin said.
“Good guess,” Pearl said. “Push it back in.”
Burklin grabbed the baby’s ass-cheeks and tried to shove them back in. They felt slimy and warm. He gagged, fearing he might puke. “That can’t be right,” he whispered.
“What?” Garrick said. “What’s not right?”
Burklin’s jaw hung agape. “No, I’m fairly certain that’s not right.”
“Focus! Wanda’s almost picked clean. Shove that thing back into the Nether. Now!”
Something odd emerged from the senator’s vagina.
“Why are you being so quiet down there?” Garrick asked.
Burklin tried to reply, but couldn’t. He stared at the newly filled opening between the senator’s legs. A few seconds ago, he had shoved the baby’s limbs back into the womb, or wherever demon babies went. The folds of the senator’s vagina had closed like two wet curtains.
Now the pink drapes opened again, revealing three arms and four legs. Unless his high school biology teacher had lied, newborns didn’t come out with three arms. He knew doctors snipped something off after delivery, but extra arms and legs? No.
Garrick craned his neck for a peek. He frowned. “Oh no, they’re both fighting to come out.”
“Both?” Burklin said.
“Push one of them back in.”
“Which one?”
Garrick shrugged. “I don’t know, dumbshit. Maybe the one with a penis?”
* * * *
The strong elastic portal embraced Lorraine and Max, and tightened. Max fought against her and scrambled to make it through. The slug yelled for Lorraine to remove herself. The slaves clawed and beat her. The little men pulled on her feet as they battled the creatures, but couldn’t maintain their grip on her slippery flesh.
Her limbs ached, but she refused to give up. She needed to get through and keep the demon out. She wiggled her head and gave one final push. Her body slid another six inches. Then her head passed through the opening, and a brilliant light struck her eyes.
Lorraine saw his face and the determination upon it. Here was Old Burklin, the man she’d once loved. His hands rested on her head, strong and sure.
She knew everything would be okay.
* * * *
“Not that one!” Pearl shouted. “The other one.”
Burklin let go of the baby’s head.
“Wait!” Pearl shouted again. “My bad. You had the right one. I think it’s crowning.”
“Crowning?”
“I saw it on Grey’s Anatomy, back when that show was still watchable. You know, when the black doctor slept with the ugly—”
“Is crowning good or bad?” Burklin asked. “It sounds bad.”
“Good. I think. McDreamy had this—”
“Pearl!”
The dog peered in and nodded. “Yeah, you’ve got it.”
The baby cried, its little arms flailing. Burklin swore the face looked like …
“No way,” he whispered.
“What?” Garrick said. “For crap’s sake. Did you get it or not?”
Burklin eased the baby free with both hands. “Lorraine?” he said.
The senator’s vagina slammed shut.
* * * *
The portal collapsed as Lorraine exited, and Max fell to the floor of the cavern.
He laughed. “Whoa! Wicked. Let’s do it again.”
Angry demons and little people stood amongst the smoking computer terminals, staring at the wall that had, seconds ago, contained a portal. Now the spot resembled a speck of ash-colored rock.
“Lord Avnas,” the slug said to Max. “I do apologize. I suspect the Bureau will be similarly apologetic. But, um, your door closed. We cannot open another one for you.”
“Huh?”
The slug winced. “You’ve been replaced.” Then he added with a cough, “My lord.”
* * * *
The newborn baby cried in Burklin’s arms. Garrick produced a small dispenser of dental floss from his pocket.
“What are you doing with that?” Burklin asked.
“Trick I learned in the Nether.” Garrick pulled two lengths of floss from the dispenser. He tied each one around the umbilical cord, spacing them inches apart. Then he brought out a pock
etknife, unfolded it, and sawed through the cord between the knots, severing it. “‘Avoid the piddle, cut the middle.’ That’s what they taught us. It’s like tying a balloon. Careful, it’s messy.”
“What happened to you?” Burklin asked. “You look different.”
“I think my powers are back. Is the Asian still with us?”
Wanda lay in a motionless heap, her carcass picked clean.
“I don’t think so,” Burklin said.
Garrick smiled. “Good. Hopefully she’ll stay dead this time. Just to be on the safe side, we should bury her.”
“Is the portal closed?”
“It only opens when a lord dies, then shuts as soon as a soul passes through it. I suspect it’s closed now.”
“So what is this?” Burklin rocked the crying baby girl in his arms.
“Interesting question. ‘Born of man, but not by man.’“ Garrick shrugged. “Another demon to protect. Does it matter?”
Senator Kamilla McPhee breathed in rapid gulps. Her eyes darted around as though she’d awakened from a drunken bender. Blood caked her face and chest, and a huge mess had accumulated between her legs. “What happened?” she said. “Did I sleep through the debate?”
Garrick took the baby from Burklin and rocked it back and forth. It screamed and howled. “Good girl, Lorraine,” he whispered.
Burklin snatched the slime-covered baby away from him. “Get your hands off her.”
“Give it back,” Garrick said.
“No. It’s Lorraine.” Burklin hugged the baby. It wiggled and thrashed in his arms. He would take care of her now. They would finally be together, away from the old man’s influence.
Garrick spoke the words he dreaded: “You know you can’t keep it, right?”
“What?” Burklin said. “Of course I can. It’s Lorraine. I’ll raise her myself.”
“We need to give this baby up.”
“You can’t do this to me. Not again.”
Garrick shook his head. “No drama. What do you think that is? Huh? Do you believe that’s a normal child? It’s not. It may look like Lorraine, it may even be Lorraine, but I am certain it is a demon. My powers have returned, which means I’m in charge of its protection. Whether this is temporary or not is up to the Bureau. This might be the first time a protector has replaced a demon lord. I don’t know. But I plan to do everything I can to stay on this plane of existence, away from Nether justice. Regardless, I think we’re back in the sweepstakes hunt.” He shrugged. “Yes, we’ll have to wait another couple decades for our paradise in the Gulf, but we’ll manage. Hopefully cars will still run on oil in twenty years.”