by John Everson
Melter’s howl was unearthly. But Alex was already turning to dole out the same treatment to Dorado as Melter clutched at his leg, which was spraying dark blood across the floor. Alex didn’t have a second to spare; she no longer had the element of complete surprise.
And she was too late.
As she turned to slash at Dorado’s leg in the same way, he was already rising to a crouch. He made a grab for her arm, but Alex ducked, coming up with a clear shot at his side. She didn’t have time to be picky, she needed to hurt this demon. Fast.
Alex stabbed at the black flesh just below Dorado’s rib cage. As the knife slid easily inside him, the demon reacted and slammed a fist against her head. His knuckles caught her at the temple, and she fell back as her world exploded in a blinding light, but she refused to let go of the knife. It ripped a long tear in his side as she fell to the ground and brought the blade back with her.
The room was filled with the mingled sounds of anger and agony. Before she could even see clearly, Alex rolled away from the source of the howls. But something suddenly gripped her ankle. Melter had her, and his grip tightened harder and harder. She screamed herself, which only made his eyes spark.
Alex sat up and stabbed again, this time meeting Melter right in the neck. The hand released her, as he instinctively grabbed at the new wound, and Alex crab walked backwards, trying to put distance between them.
That’s when the knife flew from her hand as Dorado chopped her wrist. The demon was holding his side with one hand, which streamed what seemed to be a dangerous amount of blood. But that didn’t stop him. Dorado went for her neck. Alex took the only shot she could. She kicked as hard as she could right between his legs. The force of her kick sent a spike of pain up her leg, and she felt his testicles crunch against her heel. The demon’s fingers brushed against her neck before yanking back to hold his broken privates.
The howling grew hellish.
Alex ignored the pain in her wrist and ankle and staggered quickly away from the demons, who were clutching their injuries and cursing in a language she had never heard.
Melter tried to stand but instantly collapsed to the ground with a shriek. The pain didn’t stop him though; he began to crawl towards her, murder in his dark eyes.
Alex broke his gaze, turned, and ran for the exit.
“Nicely done,” Malachai whispered in the back of her brain. “If they catch you, they are going to tear off your arms and legs.”
“They are not going to catch me,” Alex said, turning the corner into the sales vestibule of the Skin Shop. At that exact moment, the demon who had raped her earlier burst through the other door. “What the hell is going on,” he cried, but stopped when his eyes met hers.
“You?” he said.
His mammoth dark body filled the door that led to the street.
Alex was trapped.
CHAPTER 49
WHEN MOLOCH CLOSED his eyes – or at least the eyes of his host – Joe felt the cool touch of a hand close around his wrist. Cheyenne.
She didn’t say a word, but he understood. She lent him her support. Her strength of will. Her hope. He covered her hand with his and smiled, faintly. But he didn’t take his eyes off Moloch.
The demon’s lips moved, but no sound came out. The effect was eerie. Disconcerting. And it got worse when the demon’s eyelids opened.
Because instead of meeting the demon’s alert gaze, Joe saw only the whites of the demon’s eyes. His pupils were rolled back in his head. He grimaced, but did not stop staring. What was Moloch doing, exactly? Had he made contact? If so, to whom? And what was he saying?
Joe wanted to shake him and ask, but he knew that would probably just break whatever line of communication had been established. Assuming there was one.
Not knowing, was maddening.
Cheyenne’s hand tightened on his arm, and at first Joe thought she was just reiterating her support. But when he opened his mouth to whisper his thanks to her, he realized that she was not trying to give him strength, she was trying to warn him. The demon’s hands had begun to tremble. A tremor was spreading throughout the man’s body. It began low; Moloch’s calves jittered and swayed, very faintly. But then his hips began to shake and then his chest jutted out and in.
“Is he having a seizure?” Cheyenne asked.
“I don’t know,” Joe answered.
“Should we do something?”
Joe shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Moloch answered the question with a howl.
Joe reached out with his free hand, but the demon raised a hand of his own, and slapped Joe’s arm away.
“Why don’t you come through and say hi to her yourself,” Moloch’s voice said. Only, it wasn’t really his voice. The words sounded childlike. High-pitched and cruel. The sound of a boy holding two legs of a katydid just before pulling them in the opposite direction.
“I don’t know how,” Joe answered quietly.
The demon laughed, staring at Joe with pupil-less eyes. Its gaze was white and horrible. It looked blind, but Joe felt as if the thing was staring inside his mind, searching for something to use against him.
“Just go inside and walk into the circle,” Moloch said. “There are many who have come over today, and many more will come after. You can find your answers here.”
“I don’t think so,” Joe said.
The demon cackled, a childish pique of angry laughter. “Coward,” the thing taunted.
“I want to talk to Alex,” Joe said. His voice was firm.
“She’s a little tied up right now, from what I’ve heard.”
“But she’s alive?”
The childish voice laughed. “Here today, gone tomorrow,” the voice said.
And then Moloch’s shaking stopped, and his eyes turned back out. The dark brown pupils betrayed a glimpse of fear for a moment before the demon spoke. And then with a shake the moment was gone, and the demon looked ready to tear Joe’s arms out of their sockets with his bare hands. He looked angry; vengeful.
“She is still alive,” Moloch confirmed. His voice was low, gravelly. “But not for long. She’s been taken by the skin traders.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means they will slice off her skin every night until she finally can’t take it anymore. And then she’ll die.”
“What skin do they take?” Joe asked. “Do they scalp her?”
Moloch shook his head. “They take all of it. And when a human is in the world of the Curburide, their skin will grow back every night before the dawn.”
“But why?” Joe asked.
“We buy human skins for decoration.”
Joe shook his head in disgust. “That voice wasn’t you. Who was it that I was talking to?”
“A guardian of the doorways. He would not let me go farther than the first step past the door on the other side.”
“So you never even got near Alex,” Joe said. “I thought you were going to help me talk to her?”
“I can’t reach where she is. The guardian knew that I was there under duress. He would not let me pass farther until I have disentangled myself from whatever force held me. In a word, you.”
“Is there someone who can reach her?”
“I’m sure there is,” the demon said. He looked as if he was about to say a name, but then shook his head. “But it’s not me.”
“You said you would try.”
“And I did. Now release me. I fulfilled the bargain.”
Joe shook his head. “You know someone. Someone who can help me reach Alex.”
“It’s pointless,” Moloch said. “Your girlfriend is having her skin ripped off every night. They never last long on that rack. A few nights, and then the skin finally stops growing back, and they scream until there is no voice left, and no life.”
“Then I’m not
letting you go until you tell me who can help Alex.”
Moloch shrugged. “I can tell you, but it won’t do you any good. She’s the demon who taught me. She’s one of the most dangerous demons there is. She owns most of the skin trading stations. She lives on pain. The more suffering, the more beautiful she becomes.”
“What’s her name?”
“Helone.”
CHAPTER 50
ARIANA WHISTLED. She pointed ahead of them, where a long line of people walked in single file down the center of the street. They all wore collars, with leashes tying them all together. “What’s going on there?” she asked.
“They’ve come through the door that’s been opened.”
“So many?” she said. “Where are they taking them?”
“Most will go to the pain farms,” Elotan said. He grinned. “I think food is going to be plentiful for quite awhile.”
“What about the rest?”
He shrugged. “Some might go to the skin traders. Some of the nice-looking ones will be sold to private collections, or to clubs. You’d better dance well tonight, because there may be competition for your spot. And I need you to keep it. There are debts to pay.”
“So I’m your golden egg, is that it?”
He pulled on her collar and the needles bit hard into her neck. “You’re exactly what you wanted to be.” He said. “Don’t ever pretend otherwise.”
Ariana shrugged. “Just sayin’. I seem to be valuable to you.”
He pointed ahead at the line of new human slaves pouring down the street of the Curburide city. “You can be replaced,” he said. “And you won’t find the pain farms nearly as enjoyable as my bed.”
“I thought your bed was a pain farm.”
Elotan yanked on her collar again, this time dropping her to her knees. The pain arced across her vision and she could feel blood dripping down the hollow of her neck. She could tell Elotan was not truly angry; he had an erection. Inwardly she shrugged, and leaned forward to take care of it. If you couldn’t give fellatio on the streets in hell, where could you do it?
Elotan relaxed his grip on the collar and held her head firmly until the spines dug into her tongue. Then he stretched his arms out above him and howled. His hips bucked faster and in seconds there was fire in her throat. As the demon came, Ariana swore she felt the earth move beneath her.
If she could have split her mouth open wider, she would have smiled. There was one thing she’d always been good at.
When he left her mouth, Elotan wiped himself off with a handful of her hair, and then pulled her to her feet.
The ground shook again, and this time there was no mistake. Something fell off the roof of a building nearby, and smashed on the road a few yards away into white powder.
“Does that mean I was good?” Ariana asked.
Elotan’s look had changed from demonically delirious to a scowl.
“You give yourself too much credit,” he said, and began walking away, dragging her after him. The ground shuddered once more, and both of them staggered, trying to hold fast to the pavement.
“What was that?” she asked again. “An earthquake?”
“This isn’t earth.” Elotan said. Her second question was met with the tightening of her noose. He wasn’t going to answer her. Maybe couldn’t answer her. His face looked worried.
That didn’t seem good.
CHAPTER 51
“RELEASE ME,” Moloch demanded. “I did as you asked.”
“You have to help me contact Helone,” Joe said.
“Impossible,” the demon said. “They won’t let me past the door as long as I’m under your control. You’ll have to go through the door yourself if you want to reach her.”
“And I’d last there how long?” Joe asked. “Five minutes?”
Moloch only grinned.
The ground beneath them suddenly jumped. Moloch’s smiled passed. The demon’s face betrayed concern as he looked away from them towards the mission. Joe followed his gaze and realized that one of the strangest things he’d ever seen was almost directly over them.
Dusk had been falling, but the sky above the roof of the building had gone black. Not night black, but tar-black. It made the rest of the deep blue horizon look pale in comparison. To his left, Joe could see the first glint of stars, but over the roof of the mission, all light was swallowed up. Gone. There was no light there, just a heavy darkness that seemed to shimmer slightly at the edges. Almost like heat lightning. A spark flared along the edge of the darkness as Joe stared at it, and once again, the ground beneath him shifted. Next to him, Cheyenne gasped, and lost her balance, unprepared for the shudder.
She fell forward and Moloch acted. The demon wrapped six long fingers around her arm and dragged her all the way into the circle. She kicked at him but he lifted her off the ground easily, and then held her body tight to his own, with his arm pinning her neck.
Her eyes widened and Cheyenne choked.
“Release me now or I release her. From life.”
Joe saw the light in the demon’s eyes, and nodded. He was not going to get any farther here. “I release you from your bond and thank you for your service,” he said.
“Open the circle,” Moloch prompted.
Joe scuffed his shoe through the salt until the circle was broken. The demon stepped through and tossed Cheyenne at Joe like a doll.
“Whether you enter the door of your own will to find Helone or not, you will be going through,” Moloch said. He gestured at the sparking ink above them. It seemed to cover even more of the sky than it had a moment before. “This door is not like the others. It will not close until it swallows all. Look!”
The demon pointed and now Joe could see that there were shapes moving in the ichor. They seemed white, like birds at first, with flailing wings. But then he realized that the shapes were not birds at all. They were people. And there was a chain of them extending from the front of the mission to the center of the darkness. One by one, the struggling figures rose skyward and winked out as they reached the center.
“Where are they going?” Joe asked.
“To hell,” Cheyenne whispered. “We are literally looking at the gates of hell.”
Moloch laughed, and turned away.
“Don’t bother to knock,” he said. “The door’s open.”
At that moment the ground shook again, and a handful of figures suddenly came running around the corner from the front of the mission. Moloch waved at them, and pointed behind him to Joe and Cheyenne.
“I think we need to get out of here,” Cheyenne said.
“Just one problem,” Joe said. “They’re between us and the car.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the back of the Birchmir. “Can’t go through them,” she said. “Better go around!”
Joe followed her around the back of the mission and up the other side. When the parking lot came into sight, he began to smile. “I see it,” he said. “I see the car.”
But when they rounded the corner, his heart sank. A solid wall of people stood in front of the mission. Waiting for them.
As one, the crowd began to move towards them. Darin was in the lead.
“I hear you are looking for someone,” Darin called.
Joe turned to go back the way they’d come, but the way was blocked by the group that had first started chasing them.
“I think we can help,” Darin said. “But everything has a price.”
When Joe turned back to face the parking lot, Darin and a couple dozen others had spread out to completely block their way forward.
“What do you want?”
Darin shook his head. “No, it’s what you want.” He stepped forward and grabbed Cheyenne by the arm. She kicked at him but he moved and easily dodged her foot. Then he punched her in the mouth.
Joe jumpe
d forward but hands suddenly closed on his arms. He tried to twist away, but they held him solid. Cheyenne struggled similarly in front of him. Blood smudged her chin from a split lip.
“I understand you want to bring someone back from the other side. We can arrange that, but it’s a one-for-one trade.” He pointed at Cheyenne. “We’ll send her through and bring back your girl. Sound good?”
Cheyenne’s eyes widened. She shook her head vigorously.
“No,” Joe said. “Just forget it. Let her go.”
Darin shook his head. “Too late, it’s been decided.” He slapped Joe’s face. “I’m surprised at you, I thought you’d be more grateful than this.”
“I just wanted to find out if my friend was still alive.” Joe said.
“Liar,” Darrin answered. “Here I am trying to give you what you want, and you don’t even say thanks.”
“Let us go,” Joe said. “You’ve got plenty of people, you don’t need us.” He pointed at the line of people who stood in a line that stretched from the front door of the mission to the center of the parking lot. One by one their feet left the ground and they twirled around and up into the sky, straight into the center of the black blot in the sky.
“It’s never enough,” Darin grinned. He walked a couple steps and then stopped, one hand on his cheek. “You know, I have an idea. I think we’ll play a little game.” He whispered something to three men nearby, and then motioned to the ones holding Cheyenne and Joe. “Bring them.”
They walked back into the mission and up the stairs to the bell tower. Once there, he had the men tie Cheyenne’s wrists to the pole that held the mission bell. A moment later, the three men he’d talked to below came up the stairs gasping. They – along with two more men – were carrying the statue of a stone angel from the chapel.
They set it down with a smack.
“Tie the angel to her feet,” Darin demanded. The men quickly made a harness around the angel’s wings, and then tied the other end of the rope to Cheyenne’s ankles.