The Trilogy of the Void: The Complete Boxed Set

by Peter Meredith

  Will had a second for this to register before the shadow men charged with black spears leveled, their grim faces pitiless. A brilliant flash of his hidden light, staggered the first wave and they seemed to come apart, falling to pieces in silent agony. Unfortunately, behind these, a second line charged through the debris and though Will was able to destroy those in front, spears from a third line flew through the air striking him and knocking him to his knees.

  The spears weren't designed to puncture his flesh and organs, rather they absorbed his light and drained his strength. The fight was short and bloody, both men were beaten until they could barely move. Will's light was no longer the bonfire that it had been, it felt like little more than a candle, and he was afraid what would happen if it went out altogether.

  "Enough!" the demon cried. "We don't want to kill them." At some point, she had grown again and now that Will was no longer even a tiny threat, she loomed over the two men. "Still think you're going to escape, Will? You still think that I'd allow that to happen?"

  "I will." He had meant it to come out as a challenge, instead it was a whisper that only had the demon smiling larger. He struggled to his feet and then helped his father up. "I will escape. I know about the river and I can cross it...I think."

  "Oh really? You think so?" Ba'al didn't look too worried. "While you were gone, I made inquiries about this river. You ever wonder why Talitha didn't cross?"

  "What river are you two talking about?" William asked.

  Will answered his father before he answered the demon. "Somewhere on the border between heaven and hell, there's a river...it's got trees and hills and everything. In order to cross into heaven, you have to get past this river, but..."

  The demon jumped in, craning her long neck down to put her giant head close to Will's face, "But the river shows you all the evil that you've committed. That's why Talitha couldn't cross it. She's far more nasty that either of you realize. Your little girl, William, can swing the whip with the best of them." William's lips pressed together and his brows came down to rest just above his eyes, but he said nothing.

  "Sins committed in hell aren't sins at all," Will rejoined in defense of his sister, not at all knowing the truth of his statement. Common sense seemed to dictate the fact, however.

  "Not sins? Are you on a 'time out' from morality here? Is that what you think? So by your pathetic reasoning, it will be ok with God, if I boil you two alive. I won't have to be worried about forgiveness, since it wouldn't be a sin, right?" She chortled over this for some time and Will began to worry that she was correct. "Even for you, Will that's kind of stupid. You had to wonder why Talitha always had trouble looking you in the eye."

  Will had wondered that exact thing on many occasions, but he wasn't going to give the demon any satisfaction. "Whatever she did, I'm sure she was coerced."

  "Of course she was! She was beaten to bloody pulp, roasted over a fire like she was a hotdog, she was given the works, and she became willing to do or say anything to stop the pain—though she did take a lot of punishment before she finally gave in...the first time. After that it got easier and easier to break her."

  "So...what? She was made to torture people? Why? Are you demons so lazy that you can't do it yourself?" William's umbrage looked to be a source of amusement for the demon, who laughed her wall-shaking laugh.

  "No, not just any people, she tortured family and friends. She took such delight tearing the skin from loved ones you'd have thought that she was a demon herself and you Will popped her cherry. She held firm despite the pain for a long time but it was on an illusion of you that she first gave in to temptation. And as for why Ba'al Zubel made her do this, it was for fun, simply for a laugh."

  "That's a lie," Will said with a short hard laugh of his own. "There's way more to it than just fun. Demons like you and Ba'al Zubel can't stand even the least bit of goodness in a person. You're embarrassed by it, because you know that its contrast makes you look small and petty and pathetic." The demon bared her long teeth in a smile. It was a deadly smile that spoke of revenge for his audacity and Will took an involuntary step back, practically hiding behind his father. "There was another reason as well that she was made into a torturer. The tyrant was afraid to lose her, right? She told me once that hell was voluntary..."

  William interrupted, turning to his son with skepticism, "What? That can't be right."

  "It is, Dad. If you can escape from her," he pointed, indicated the looming demon. "You could search out the river if you wanted and cross over. That's why Ba'al Zubel forced her to do such terrible things. He chained her to the Void with her own sins."

  "Finally you show a spark of intelligence," Ba'al Fie-ere rumbled. "And as a reward, I'll let you go first." From seemingly nowhere, she produced a long handled whip. "Let's start with a classic. Come on and take it, Will. Don't be shy." When it was clear that he wasn't going to budge the demon tossed it in front of him. A moment later, she produced a second whip, this one was long and mean, barbed with shining metal. It made Will shudder in fear just looking at it, this brought a smile to the demon's lips. "Time to get your hands dirty, Will. I can't have you running off to heaven if I get overzealous and accidentally kill you. Now since this is your first time, I'm going to give you a very fair deal. You'll give your father a hundred lashes with that tiny little whip or I give him two hundred, with this. Now isn't that fair? Won't you be doing him a favor?"

  His mouth came open and hung there. She took that as a yes. "Good. I'm glad you're being reasonable. One other thing however, if any of your lashes fail to draw blood, you'll be whipped twice by mine."

  William stepped in front of his boy, looking remarkably composed. "Your little scheme won't work, Ba'al. I love my son and I forgive him for anything that he may be forced to do." The man then turned and actually smiled. "I hold you entirely blameless, Will. Let none of what's going to happen, hold you back. I want you to go to heaven no matter what. Now let's get this over with." He gave Will a gentle push toward the whip.

  How could the man be so calm? With the fear drenched gloom and the shadow men standing all around them with spears ready and the demon leering in, a spectacle of vile perversity, Will was a bundle of nerves. His body shook so badly that it took an effort of will just to stumble over and pick up the whip.

  "I don't think I can do this," Will said, speaking mostly to the fifteen-foot long strip of leather that sat with unnatural comfort in his palms, he was afraid to look up. And this was for a number of reasons. The first was he feared that the demon, as a master deceiver herself, would see the deception in his eyes. Just as he had bent down to pick up the whip, a plan had come to him, unfortunately not a very good one. He decided that if he could accomplish nothing else, he would free his father. And that meant killing him, something that even if the demon wasn't standing so close, wouldn't be an easy thing to do. In his prime, his father was a bull of a man, but that was nothing compared to the fact that Will loved him with all his heart. It would be a mercy kill he had to remind himself.

  The second reason he feared to look up was he knew that if he hesitated any longer, the dreadful whip that Ba'al Fie-ere held would come lashing at him. Purposely he waited as if in indecision and clenched his jaws in anticipation.

  "Will, look out!" His father's warning came a half second before the whip struck.

  The pain was an incomparable fire that ran a line from his left ear, which tore completely away, and down his back diagonally. He gasped at the intensity and went weak, dropping to his knees, but before he could scream, the whip struck again and then again, and he writhed on the ground in a vain attempt to avoid the blows. Ten lashes of unimaginable pain left him a whimpering bleeding wreck.

  "I don't have all night. Your sister is coming soon and I haven't even picked out something to wear." The demon sat reclining on a tremendous throne, which had appeared from nowhere. She looked to be in no hurry. "Now, get up and give it a try. I think that soon you'll come to like it." As she spoke, she ran her
whip through her lips tasting his flesh and blood. It was all Will could do, not to vomit at the sight.

  "Y-y-yes ma'am," he said with a voice that shook and got to his feet as hurriedly as he could, though his legs threatened to buckle beneath him.

  "Address me as the Great Ba'al!" she thundered and he cowered with his left arm up, very afraid that she would whip him again, if she did, he worried he would lack the strength to kill his father.

  "Y-yes Great Ba'al," he shook and swayed and cringed in real fear. So far his plan wasn't working so well, his father had just stood there as he had been whipped, the opposite of what Will needed. He had to somehow get close to his father without rousing suspicion. There would be only one chance at this.

  The Great Ba'al liked what she saw and smiled benignly. "Good. Now, Daddy has been naughty. Punish him, or else."

  Will looked at his father and was surprised at the hard look that William had for him. "Stop messing around, Will and swing the whip, damn it!"

  "I..." Will began.

  "I said, swing the whip, now!"

  This is going to hurt, Will thought to himself and sent the leather lash past his father's right arm. He missed. Purposefully. There was barely enough time for him to grimace in fear and cast his left hand up to protect his face, before Ba'al's whip descended down upon him. It was like a lightning strike. The pain seared into him yet he stumbled forward, trying to get near enough to his father on the off chance that he would have the strength and will to kill the man. By his fourth step, the demon lashed his legs, dropping him to the ground, after that there was only agony.

  "Stop! Stop it now!" A familiar voice roared out. The whipping stopped, but the pain stayed and he cried on the floor among the shadows, embarrassed, but only vaguely so. The pain was that great. "Pull it together, Will. Don't let her win." William was a red blur above him. "Come on be strong."

  There was almost no strength left to him, he shuddered and whimpered, and the demon sat enjoying the misery and William came down on one knee and held him close. There was something wrong with Will's vision and when he touched his own face, he found that his left eye was missing, as was a great deal of his skin. The pain was too much for him to care.

  Eventually the demon spoke and when she did, it seemed to clear his mind and he was able to think past the pain, "We all know what you are up to, Will." He swallowed hard, afraid that she actually did. "You just want to take the punishment; you're trying to protect our father. I would call that noble, but just look how it makes him seem? He looks like a pathetic coward. You're all bloody and crying like a bitch and he looks as good as new, almost like he's using you as a shield."

  "Will, please...you're going to have to use that whip on me. I-I can't stand to see you in this much pain," William whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, do it for me?"

  Will nodded and put out a hand to be helped up, but when his father hauled him up, he could barely stand. Fortunately, Ba'al gave him another minute before she became impatient.

  "Enough stalling! Whip him good, Will. I wanna see you bloody up his pretty face." Ba'al threw one of her huge legs over the armrest of the throne and smiled down on her prisoners.

  "Yes, great Ba'al." Will turned to his father, "Could you kneel down, please? And just try not to move, ok? No matter what... don't move." With his one good eye, he gave his father an exaggerated wink, after a flash of puzzlement, William nodded.

  Now was Will's only chance. Another whipping would take too much out of him. Taking a deep breath, he ran the leather through his hands, formed it into a coil and before his soul could protest the patricide he was about to commit, he dropped it over his father's head and yanked it as tight as he could around his neck.

  Chaos erupted around the two men. Ba'al leapt to her feet and the shadow men charged with black spears pointed square at his chest. Will wasn't entirely defenseless, he still had some light left within him, and he released it in a blinding silent explosion. The radiance of it wasn't much compared to how powerful it had been, but it still smote the rushing shadows, sending them scattering.

  "Go to the river, go to the river," Will grunted through his clenched teeth, pulling for all he was worth. For a moment, he thought that he would succeed. His hands stung from the amount of pressure he was exerting and his father's face went from pink to red and then to a deep purple and just when he was sure the great man would finally succumb to asphyxiation, the leather whip turned to smoke in his hands and Will toppled backwards.

  Ba'al laughed hard. "These are my shadows, my playthings. I command them, they obey me. I created them and I decide what shape they form. Oh, but what fun that was, watching you play the part of the hero. Now get on up, don't just lie there crying. I think that since you were so bad, your father should spank you."

  Will stood, tears of frustration did indeed drip from his chin, and his heart was heavy with defeat. "You may control the shadows, but you do not control me."

  "Are you going to strangle your dad with your bare hands?" she asked standing. Ba'al rose to her full height now and he barely came to her knee. "Do you think that I would allow that? You think I would sit by and let you kill such a prize?"

  Instead of answering her, Will looked at his father, who knelt in front of him with his back ramrod straight, his shoulders out, and his head up. It seemed as though the man would never be cowed. Except that he would. In the end, the infinite grinding hate and the constant fear and pain would wear down even this heroic man, turning him into just so much soul mulch. Will couldn't allow that to happen, he would kill him in any way he could.

  By training, he was indeed a killer, he had learned from the best, by the very demon that stood above him.

  Every week, while in the body of his sister, she had sought ways to strike him down, though many of these attacks he had seen coming by way of his vision and had avoided them without the need to fight. But he had learned nonetheless. He had seen the thousand moves, the precise angles of attacks, the ferocious focused power that could kill in a blink of an eye.

  It would need to be a clean death and a very fast one.

  "I love you, Dad." It was all Will had time for. He took a large step back and then pivoted, before driving his right leg out, throwing his entire weight behind a bone crushing side kick. His foot smashed into the back of his father's neck with the force of a sledgehammer. There was a horrid cracking noise and his father flung out his arms and pitched forward onto his face, spasmed once and then lay there in shadows unmoving.

  "No!" Ba'al's scream of outrage surged through the shadows sending them spiraling around him in a froth. A second later, Will was struck by something and went sprawling, he was unaware of pain or any emotion. Curiously and blessedly, he felt completely numb.

  The vast figure of Ba'al Fie-ere stooped and picked up the body of William Jern and it lolled in her hand, its head looking like only strings were keeping it from dropping away. Fire grew behind the black of Ba'al's eyes. "You will pay! You'll pay, you'll pay, you'll pay!" She stamped her foot like a toddler in a fit and then threw down the body as if it were a broken toy.

  Her deadly whip lifted and came at Will, the sound, a powerful crack, woke him from his numbness and pain shot across his body. Soon his whole world was only pain and the one thing that Will could care about was saving the one eye he had left. Above all else, he had to see for himself that his father had died, that William was really and truly free. But that eye was in jeopardy. Ba'al seemed determined to shred every inch of skin from his body and already he had lost his fingers off both hands.

  Just then, a new sound blasted through the hell that Ba'al Fie-ere had constructed. It was as if two pieces of metal had thundered together in a massive clash. The sound was like electricity and vibrated and tingled the very shadows. Ba'al's whip stopped half drawn back and she stood as a statue.

  "The Gate!" she cried.

  Before he knew it she strode away, leaving him penned in the circular room that he had first found his fat
her in. Gone were the shadow men and the throne. A body lay in a heap near one of the heavy brick shadow walls, and just as Will focused on it with his single eye and saw that it was his father, it faded into nothing.

  Will wept in joy that his father was now free and he wept in misery from the scores of wounds that covered his body, but above all else, he wept in sadness. He might have saved his father, but he lost him as well, gone from his life was the one man that he had ever loved and the one person that he respected over all others. A thousands tears fell from his one eye, before he was able to think on his current predicament: Katie would surely be joining him soon. This dread thought brought a fresh wave of tears.

  Poor Katie. She was doomed and that was almost certainly unchangeable, the gate was being opened even then and after that, her body could be hidden anywhere. Perhaps worse, her soul would be Ba'al Fie-ere's plaything for an eternity since there was no way that the demon would fall for any of Will's little tricks now.

  But that didn't mean he wouldn't stop trying, nor would he stop trying to escape.

  Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen just then. Will dragged his body to the nearest wall. On some level, he knew that it was little more than shadows and illusion, but his reality told him that it was concrete, heavy and thick. He tried to will himself past it as he had before, but it remained solid. When that didn't work, he tried meditation, only his pain was too great to concentrate on anything else. After that, he laid there on the frozen concrete, clueless at what to do. Depression laid such a good hold of him that now the idea of escape seemed ludicrous, but it was just then, that Will heard a sound. It was very faint and seemed to come from all about him.

  "Huh?" It hurt terribly even to make that one noise, his bottom lip had been nearly sheared away and it dangled grotesquely.

  "Will?" His name floated out of the shadows and he grew afraid again, certain that it was a gypsy calling him as part of some evil spell.