Double-Barreled Devilry

by D Michael Bartsch

  Hunching over, the Ogre grabbed at its crotch with one hand and held itself up with the other. I worked the bolt of the shotgun, chambering my final round. I aimed and put a slug in the elbow of the arm holding it up. The arm collapsed beneath the weight of its own body, and the thing tumbled onto the ground.

  Shoving myself up, I ran and jumped over the remnants of my counter. I was halfway over when something slammed into my lower back. I felt a crunch and heard a rather nasty cracking sound. The air left my body in an exaggerated cough, and I lost my grip on the Mossberg.

  I dropped halfway across the room on top of a pile of rubble, my limbs flailing like a rag doll as I rolled to a halt. I tried to cry out, but there wasn't a molecule of air left in me. I gasped for air, almost forgetting the pain flaring up everywhere.

  I was pretty sure I was alive, but I rolled myself over to my stomach to make sure. Taking a deep breath, I coughed as I inhaled a mouthful of dust and who knows what else.

  I fished the .38 out of my pocket, still doubled over on the floor. Opening my eyes, the Ogre had its back to me, screaming in a seemingly endless rage. I emptied the revolver into the thing's back, watching as the holes puckered in the rigid flesh and quickly filled in as the bastard regenerated. I tossed the gun and noticed that something was dripping down my back.

  Sliding my hand under the back of my vest, I felt the dampness soaking into my shirt. I pulled my hand out and looked down at it. I had been expecting blood, but instead I saw the sheen of crystal clear water on my leather glove.

  The Ogre turned back around to face me. It was cradling its arm, and where a four-fingered fist had been moments before was a bloody stump. It had broken some of the plates on my vest when it bitch slapped me across the room and got its hand melted off by the holy water.

  Missing hand and a shot up dick, Deckland two, Ogre zero.

  Sniffing the air, the Hellion squared its body to me, letting its wounded arm fall. Blood poured out of it in thick rivulets of oily sludge. It had taken enough damage that it was finally having a hard time regenerating itself. That was good news for me, and as I stood there, looking a very ugly death in the face, a rather dumb idea entered my head.

  Looking back, I blame it on hitting my head and then getting thrown across a room. That combined with the lack of sleep and heavy alcohol consumption in the previous forty-eight hours, I think I have a pretty good case for temporary insanity.

  Keeping my eyes locked on the Ogre, I put both of my hands behind my back and began ringing out my shirt. The water slid over the leather gloves, coating them. Hands firmly behind my back, I opened my mouth and yelled a string of nonsensical obscenities. The Ogre's head snapped in my direction, it's eyes still covered in its own bloody filth. It roared back, and we charged each other.

  I am comfortable saying that I am the only human on the planet who has ever charged a full grown Ogre while completely unarmed and lived to talk about it.

  I was half its height and weighed next to nothing compared to it. Hell, even if we were the same size, when a grown man screams an unfiltered list of nonsense at you while holding his hands behind his back, running straight for you, things get weird.

  Two feet from the Ogre, I whipped my hands out from behind my back, the wetness shining dimly in the moonlight filtering in from the giant hole in the ceiling. The Ogre took a lazy swing at me last second, but I was already inside of his reach, easily ducking under it. Coming up to its body, I shoved my hands upward, just below the ribcage. The skin melted away from my fingers like a flamethrower shooting a stick of butter. Pushing my hands further in, I felt its organs pop as the holy water came into contact with them.

  I pushed until I was up to my elbows in the Ogre's chest. Searching blindly with my hands, I got my left hand around a lung and my right found purchase on the bottom of its rapidly beating heart. Tightening my grip as much as possible, I squeezed and pulled down as hard as I could. It felt like a thick water balloon popping in my hand as part of its heart melted and ripped away.

  As soon as my arms were clear of the wounds, waves of blood dumped out of them. The black ichor cascaded over me with enough force to cause me to stumble and lose my balance. I tripped over a chunk of wood flooring from Carl's apartment and went down to the ground. I could see stars in the sky through the hole in the roof. The Ogre wobbled from side to side, using a hand to try and stop its insides from becoming its outsides.

  The great big bastard went down to his knees, cracking the concrete floor. I felt the ground shake as it keeled over sideways with a crash. A cloud of dust flew into the air, and I was grateful for being a clumsy mess. If I hadn't stumbled and tripped, the thing probably would have come down on top of me and crushed my body into jelly.

  I breathed as little as possible as I lay there, flat on my back, staring up into the sky through the collapsed ceiling. Everything smelled like an irradiated bag of sewer sludge. If I didn't know better, I would say someone up there was looking out for me. I laughed at the thought. I regretted it immediately since laughing caused my ribs to cry out in protest and pain.

  “Deckland?”

  I turned my head. I saw Carl's face peaking over a small pile of rubble.

  “I'm alive, Father. More than I can say for that piece of shit.”

  I watched his eyes shift from me to the Hellion corpse. I'm sure I looked half a corpse myself, covered in filth from neck down. I smelled like death too.

  “That was, I dunno what that was,” He said.

  I could hear sirens in the distance. It made sense considering a twelve-foot tall animal had just trashed the place and made a hell of a lot of noise doing it. The gunfire probably hadn't helped either.

  “We gotta go, padre,” I said. “Can you help me up? I'm gonna to need some help getting to my car.”

  “Shouldn't we wait for the police?”

  “You can. I have got to get out of here. I don't want to be around when they search the place. Quite a few of my toys aren't exactly legal in the strictest terms.”

  Technically, I didn't have paperwork for any of them. It's not like I bought them from a dealer. It was a they-fell-off-the-back-of-a-truck situation.

  Carl moved slowly. He walked past the Ogre's body rather gingerly.

  “It smells terrible,” He said.

  “Yea. Brimstone. Runs in their veins. Smells like a son of a bitch. Help me up.”

  Carl slipped his arm beneath my own and helped drag me to my feet. I felt pretty wobbly when I first got there.

  “Thanks. Grab my pirate gun for me.”

  I pointed at the Mossberg laying a few yards away where I'd dropped it. At this point, I'm pretty sure Carl was flying on autopilot. He walked over without any say or apparent thought. He picked up the weapon and came back over to me. I was trying to find my go bag in the rubble. When I saw the straps of the duffle, I had to get on my hands and knees to dig it out of the debris. My ribs were aching with every breath and moving was a pain in the ass. All things considered, though; I was lucky to be alive.

  I stripped my vest and ruined shirt off. I tossed them in a bloody heap on the ground. The bloody gloves went next. I pulled a clean shirt from my bag and wiped as much of the blood off as I could. I pulled another shirt out of my go bag and tossed it over my head. Pants came next. I couldn't do anything about the rest of the filth, but the clean clothes felt great. I zipped by duffle back up and found my way back to me feet.

  Bag in hand, I got myself turned around and limped towards the front door.

  Carl slipped under my arm and helped me up the stairs. He had my Mossberg and had even found my bomber jacket somewhere along the line. What a guy.

  I'd never been happier for street parking than I was when we got to the front of the house. The Toyota parked in front of our place had been stomped nearly flat by the Ogre on its way to get me. It actually looked like it might have gotten some extra attention after the Ogre's first failed attempt to get through the door.

  The whole front wall of C
arl's apartment was gone. Where the roof didn't collapse, it was sagging heavily.

  Carl stayed under my arm as we walked to my car. The Stang was still right where I'd left it.

  I got the door open and tossed my pirate gun and duffle onto the passenger seat. Carl slipped out from under my arm, and I turned, grabbing him by the shoulders.

  “Wait for the cops to get here. Tell them that you don't know what happened. That the thing busted into your house and then fell through the floor.”

  “That's what happened.”

  “Then it shouldn't be too hard to sell them the story.”

  I smiled, trying to be as reassuring as possible.

  “Listen to me Carl. Once the cops get in there and see what's going on, some people are going to find out and be here within a few hours. They are going to take over the investigation.

  “When they talk to you, they are going to ask you a lot of questions. Tell them the truth, absolutely and without hesitation. Leave me out of it if you can, but whatever you do, do not lie to them.

  “If they ask you about me, tell them the truth. Do not lie to them. I can't stress how important that is. I wish you being a man of the cloth was enough to keep you safe, but these people don't care who you are. If you lie to them, they will kill you.”

  Carl looked confused and scared. I couldn't blame him. He just got thrust into a real shit show. I was just glad that when the Venatori was finished with him, they'd wipe his memory.

  “Carl, what did I just tell you?”

  “Tell the truth.”

  “That's right. You're going to be fine.”

  I turned to get in the car.

  “Deckland.”

  I sank painfully into the driver's seat and turned back.

  “Where are you going?” He asked.

  “Away.”

  “Who are you running from?”

  I looked up at Carl. He looked pallid and gaunt. He was covered in blood from helping me walk.

  “The people who sent that thing after me want me dead,” I said. “The people coming to find out what happened aren't fans of me either. I gotta get out of here before this whole damn town wants my head on a plate.”

  Carl nodded. He kept whatever thought he had to himself.

  I closed the door and turned the key in the ignition, the Stang coming to life. I rolled the window down.

  “Remember, tell them the truth. If they ask about me, you don't really know anything anyway. You'll be fine.”

  “Did you really murder your wife?”

  I sat there for a moment, hands gripping the wheel.

  “I tried to save my wife. She was sick, and I thought I could do something to save her. I called up a Demon and sold my soul to save her.”

  Carl looked at me. I could have sworn I saw my own sadness in his eyes.

  “Did it work?” He asked.

  “No. What I did...” I couldn't look at him. “What I did ended up killing her. I traded away everything for nothing in return.”

  “You're never coming back are you?”

  “No.”

  Carl leaned down to meet me eye to eye. I turned my head to meet his gaze.

  “Whatever happens, know that nothing is unforgivable. He died for all of us, Deckland.”

  “I don't have a soul left to save.”

  “A light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

  “Take care of yourself, Father.”

  I slipped the car into drive and pulled out into the street. As I headed down the street, I could see the flashing lights of cop cars tearing up the street.

  13

  The carriage bounced over the cobblestones. I pulled back the curtain and looked out the window. The overcast sky was bleary. A mist hung in the air. I could see the head of a black destrier swaying as it trotted next to the carriage. The second carriage in front of ours was surrounded by more of the powerful beasts.

  Lengths of scarlet and black enameled armor covered the riders. Longswords and revolvers were sheathed at their hips. Each rider wore a black helmet with a red “V” painted across the face. My Enlightened eyes could pick out the faces of peasants hiding in alleys and peering out through dirty windows. It was a strange sight to see an armored convoy traveling down the streets of Paris.

  “What do you see?”

  I turned from the window, letting the curtain fall.

  Elena had removed her helmet when we'd entered the carriage. Her tanned skin was the color of coffee with a healthy pour of milk. Her dark hair was tied up in a series of braids that ran back and forth across her scalp. Her black armor was scratched and dented from the assault. My own bore a puckered puncture from a crossbow bolt. Her moss green eyes stared at me, and I felt something stir inside my chest. I smiled, as I always did when I saw her.

  “I don't care for the view inside the carriage. I should be out riding.”

  “You don't care for the view?” She asked. “I would think you'd enjoy it rather much.”

  I looked at her up and down, moving my eyes slowly.

  “I stand corrected.”

  Her smile seemed to glow in the dim light as she laughed. The gas lanterns that lit the interior of the carriage cast flickering shadows that danced across her delicate features.

  “Gabriel can oversee the others. You were wounded.”

  I looked down at the hole in the chest of my armor.

  “I'm fine. The bolt was removed and the flesh knit together. My armor is in far worse shape than I am.”

  Elena stood and crossed over to sit beside me.

  “Then you must stay to entertain me. I am of a delicate nature and require constant affection.”

  I laughed, deep from the stomach.

  “I do believe I saw your delicate nature disembowel a man not two nights ago.”

  She smiled, pulling closer to me. I could feel her breath on my skin. I felt heat radiate across my body, the fire stirring.

  “He was going to stick you in the back with a pike. I can't very well have my husband be stabbed in the back. Besides, such things happen when I am not shown the proper amount of attention.”

  She kissed me, hard. I felt her tongue against mine. Her teeth nipped at my bottom lip.

  “I suppose my duty is here.” I said.

  “Indeed it is, my knight.”

  I kissed her again, pulling her closer to me. The metal of our armor scraped as our bodies pressed together. I could feel the vibrations on my skin. My gauntleted hand dwarfed her unarmored head.

  I longed to remove the plate and feel her skin against mine. There would be time for that later. We had finished the raid, but we were still on the road, and an attack could take place at any moment. The road back to England would still require days of travel. I could hold out until we stopped for the night. From the way Elena continued to press against me, almost rhythmically, I was not sure she desired to wait.

  “I do believe you are trying to take advantage of me, woman.” I said.

  “How dare you!” She said, slapping at my face.

  I caught her wrist and pulled her back to me.

  “I said nothing of stopping.”

  She nuzzled into my neck and rested her head against my shoulder. She raised one gloved hand and poked her finger into the hole in my breastplate.

  “I was worried I'd lost you.” She said.

  I looked down. A few inches to the right and the bolt would have taken me in the heart. Enlightenment be damned, that very well could have ended my life.

  “You worry too much.” I said. “You are married to the greatest Knight who ever lived. It will take far more than some crossbow wielding cultist to take me away from you.”

  I could feel her smile in the way she sighed. She may have rolled her eyes, but I knew that she had no desire to be anywhere else.

  “Yes yes, you are the world's most talented Knight. After me, of course.”

  I laughed again.

  “Oh yes, how could I forget? I am married to
the fiercest warrior the world has ever known.”

  Fingers found flesh and pinched.

  “Dammit woman! I jest.”

  “You'd do well not to forget.”

  “Never.” I whispered in her ear.

  I nipped the lobe with my teeth as I spoke.

  I leaned back against the cushioned chair and looked out of the window. The riders still flanked us. I was torn between my duty to stay vigilant and my desire to close my eyes and rest. Elena's warmth called to me, and I pulled back and closed my eyes.

  The explosion happened a heartbeat later.

  Our carriage was rocked, pushed up onto two wheels for half a heartbeat before crashing back down. The axle cracked, dumping the carriage, and I opened my eyes to find us at an angle, skidding to a halt. Elena was up in a flash, grabbing her sheathed saber and climbing to the door, throwing it open and disappearing before we'd even come to a full stop.

  I leapt from the door and jumped on top of the carraige, the air around me was choked with smoke, and I could barely hear above the screams of dying horses. My sword was held in one hand, and the new Colt Dragoon unholstered and ready in the other.

  The unwieldy revolver had been quite useful in our assault. I had been reluctant to embrace firearms in the past, but the new enhancements being made to them were intriguing. They would soon change the way the Venatori defended the Earth from the forces of Hell.

  Fire billowed out of a hole in the ground a hundred feet in front of me. The first carriage was completely overturned.

  I could see the corpses of three destriers, one blown nearly in half by the explosion. Knights were surrounding the downed carriage. Swords, axes, and rifles ready. I could see Gabriel shouting commands. I couldn't hear anything over the noise.

  I only had a few moments to scan for threats before I heard the snarling squeal.

  The sickly wet ghoul flew through the air toward me. I spun, twisting around and running the Hellion through. My longsword sank through its chest to the hilt. Snapping teeth tried to hack at my face as claws scratched my armor. I raised the Dragoon, pushing it into the ghoul's gaping mouth and fired. Its head popped like a rotten melon.