by Brian Keene
He pulled out his cigarette lighter and, one by one, lit the bowls of sage. The thick, pleasant aroma quickly filled the house. Levi breathed deep, drawing strength from it. His aches and pains vanished. His mind was soothed. He patted his vest pockets and discovered that at some point during the night’s battles, he’d lost his knife. With no time to mourn the loss, he selected a steak knife from one of Esther’s kitchen drawers and stood beneath the front door. Gritting his teeth, he turned his right-hand palm upward and sliced it open with the knife, moaning slightly from the pain and hoping the others wouldn’t hear him. Then he made another cut, forming an X pattern in his flesh. Blood flowed over his hand and splattered onto the floor. It streamed down his wrist and crept beneath his shirtsleeve. Grimacing, Levi held up his red right hand and smeared blood over the words written above the door. He did this three times, moving from left to right, as if he were painting. Then, he stood back and surveyed his handiwork. Satisfied that the words were obscured, Levi opened the front door.
“Get ready,” he called to Donny as he hurried back to the kitchen. “They’ll be coming now.”
As if in confirmation, the creatures’ cries echoed across the town. Levi sat cross-legged in front of the pantry door, lit by the glow coming from the other side, and squeezed his wrist, hoping to stanch the flow of blood.
He did not have to wait long. His foes arrived within minutes. They made no attempt to mask their approach. Their cries and threats preceded their arrival. Even so, he felt their presence long before they reached the house. The sensation filled him with loathing . . .
. . . and terror. A terror he hadn’t felt in quite some time. He focused on his breathing and tried not to panic. He needed to keep his thoughts clear and his will strong. Was it his imagination, or was the scent of the sage fading?
“Your will be done, Lord.”
Shadows moved in the open doorway. There was a sibilant hiss, and then all five entities appeared. They paused, standing at the threshold. One of them sniffed the air.
“Sage, and salt. And blood. We know these ingredients. What paltry trick do you cling to now, Levi, son of Amos?”
“No trickery,” he called. “The way is open to you. Enter freely and of your own will. I give you my word that I will not harm you in this place.”
The creatures hesitated for another moment. Levi worried that they might not take the bait. Then, one by one, they entered the home.
The tallest pointed. “The remainders are clustered upstairs. See to them, that our work here might be done.”
Levi’s pulse increased. “Why? Are you afraid to face me instead?”
“Do not try our patience, bearded one.”
“I seek not to offend, but I must admit that I’m perplexed. The others cannot harm you, and yet you focus on them first. I would think that instead, you would wish to deal with me first. After all, I’m the real threat.”
The five shadowed figures crept closer, nearing the stairs. Levi held his breath, hoping they wouldn’t divert, and hoping Donny could hold his ground if they did.
“Your arrogance will be your undoing, little magus.”
“And your self-assuredness will be yours. It always is for your kind. Greater is He that is in me, than he that is in the world.”
“He has forsaken you. He has forsaken all of you.”
“He has done no such thing.”
That’s it, Levi thought. Keep coming. Just a few more steps . . .
The creatures halted at the stairs. Two of them glanced up, sniffing the air. One licked his lips.
“My God is stronger than yours,” Levi taunted. “You know this to be true. I serve the one true God.”
“Your God has no power over us, and neither do you.”
“If that’s true, then face me, cowards.”
That did it. Levi grinned.
Snarling, the revenants forgot about the humans upstairs and stalked toward him. Their eyes and teeth flashed in the darkness. The air grew colder and the gloom seemed to deepen. Levi shivered. Beyond them, he saw a figure sneak down the stairs, moving silently, and dart toward the front door.
Thank you, Lord. Just a moment longer.
The dark men entered the kitchen. Levi remained still, projecting calm. His legs were still crossed. He held out his hands, palms up.
“Now,” he said, smiling up at them. “I guess you’re wondering why I’ve called you here.”
One of the figures raked its talons along the wall. “Enough of this. You’ve stalled long enough. Now you die.”
“Go ahead, Levi,” Donny shouted.
The revenants turned at the sound of his voice, just as Donny fled up the stairs. Two of them raced over to the stairwell, but halted when they reached the salt.
“What is this?”
“It’s salt.” Levi stood up again. He was still grinning.
“You’ll note that it now covers all entrances and exits from this place. I know it’s not really a sphere, but according to the Law, it still counts as a circle.”
The figure closest to Levi smiled. “Very good, little magus. This was unexpected.”
“Thank you. I like to think on my feet.”
“Of course, it is a futile gesture. There is one thing you didn’t consider, Levi, son of Amos. There is one crucial flaw in this pitiful attempt to defeat us.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“You are trapped in the circle with us.”
“No.” Levi’s smile vanished. “It’s you who are trapped in here with me.”
Levi sprang to his feet as they charged toward him. Everything now came down to timing and placement. He had to be exact, had to make it look natural, or all of his efforts would be for naught. He would die here, in this broken circle, and Meeble’s minions would win.
He darted to the left and ran toward the slightly open door, seemingly attempting to evade his attackers and get behind them. The ruse worked. They slammed into him in front of the pantry. Their talons and teeth slashed at him, ripping and tearing. Levi howled in pain as his blood began to flow. The creatures howled with him, shouting angry curses in a language not their own. Levi let his knees go weak, allowing their combined weight and the force of their attack to drive him backward. He prayed they’d come with him, and his prayer was answered. They clung tightly, their claws sinking deeper into his flesh. Half-blind from pain, Levi crashed into the pantry door and tumbled through to the other side. The revenants fell with him. They toppled to the ground together, but his opponents were too enraged to notice that their surroundings had changed. Biting his lip to stifle his screams, Levi lashed out with his foot and kicked the door shut.
Esther’s pantry vanished, taking the rest of the world with it.
Slowly, their attack ceased. One by one, they withdrew from him and stood, staring speechless at their new surroundings. Levi did the same. The overcast sky was filled with grayish-yellow clouds of mist so impressive in size that they almost appeared to be floating landmasses. The soft ground was spongy and slick. White, fibrous strands of what looked like peach fuzz sprouted from the surface. Moisture seeped through Levi’s clothing and when he pulled his hands away, his palms were wet. His skin felt slimy, as if he’d been grasping earthworms or slugs. The landscape was featureless, save for a variety of sickly gray and white toadstools, mushrooms and other fungi. Some were miniscule. Others were as tall as redwood trees. The air was thick with the smell of mildew. Far off in the distance, a black river of what looked like tar wound its way through the fungus. It was spanned by a cyclopean bridge made entirely of mold. Beyond that, on the horizon, great gray mountains towered into the poison sky. They were dreary looking and somehow obscene, and the sight of their peaks filled Levi with dread. A city composed of windowless black towers stood in their shadow. Atop the tallest mountain sat a giant geometric sculpture, a shining trapezoid that spilled light onto the valley below. Despite his immediate danger, Levi was awestruck by its size. He’d read of the monolith before, but to
see it like this, to actually view the shining trapezoid . . . No written account did it justice.
The shadows stirred.
“What trickery is this, little magus?”
Groaning, Levi stumbled to his feet. Blood ran from both of his arms as well as his back, chest and face. He’d broken the index finger of his right hand, and he was pretty sure that his right wrist was sprained, too. The flesh was already beginning to swell, and the pain made him nauseous.
“No trickery. I promised you that I wouldn’t harm you in Esther’s place, and I have honored my word. I have brought you elsewhere.”
“You speak in riddles.”
“No, I don’t. Welcome to your new home, gentlemen.”
They turned on him, growling. Their elongated talons had shrunk back into their fingers, and their clothes and faces weren’t so dark anymore.
“Don’t bother trying to shape-shift,” Levi continued. “You can’t anymore. In fact, if I’m correct—and I suspect that I am—you’ll find that you’re all quite powerless here.”
“Meeble’s strength follows us wherever we go. It is within us.”
“Back on Earth, perhaps, but not here. Not in this place. You see, this is not your master’s domain.”
Grunting, the tallest of the five made a dismissive gesture with his hand and pulled himself up to his full height. “After all your boasts, you have merely delayed the inevitable, Levi, son of Amos. You may be able to walk the paths of the Labyrinth, but bringing us here will not save you. What do my brothers and I care for worlds? We will lay waste to this one, just as we laid waste to your own. This world’s populace shall know of our master’s power, and we will feed here just as well.”
“Go ahead, then. Leave your mark. Carve Croatoan in the trunk of one of those great mushrooms. Carve your master’s name here, in the domain of Behemoth!”
They gaped at him. The fear on their faces was palpable, and Levi couldn’t help but laugh. After all of the terror they’d caused the people of Brinkley Springs, not to mention countless other human beings going all the way back to the original Roanoke settlement, it felt good to see them scared and to know that he was the source of their fear. He forced himself to ignore the twinge of pride.
“I see by your expressions that you understand now. That’s correct. We stand beneath the noxious skies of Yuggoth, home of Behemoth, the Great Worm and one of the Thirteen, who is the equal of your master.”
“You lie.”
Levi shook his head. “You know that I don’t. According to the Law, you are forbidden to do your working here, lest you risk a war between the Great Worm and your master—a conflict which would ultimately anger He Who Shall Not Be Named. I don’t think Meeble would appreciate such insolence.”
His opponents began to tremble. Whether from fear or rage, Levi couldn’t be certain. Perhaps both. Either way, they were still dangerous, even without their powers.
“Open the door,” the shortest one said. “Return us to our world and we will let you live. On this you have our word.”
Levi shook his head. “Not a chance.”
“Then you have doomed yourself, as well, little magus.” The tallest of the five stepped closer. “If you know of Yuggoth, then you know what grows here. Even as we speak, you are breathing the poisoned spores into your lungs. You are inhaling Behemoth’s seeds. They will take root in your body and begin to grow, ultimately transforming you—if the wounds we inflicted do not kill you first.”
“I’ve had worse,” Levi bluffed. In truth, his legs felt wobbly and he was growing weaker with every moment. He needed to stop the bleeding and attend to his injuries. His wrist continued to swell, and the skin around it felt hot to the touch and had turned an angry shade of red. His finger, bent and swollen, throbbed painfully with each beat of his heart. He took a deep breath. The air was sweltering and thick, and coated his tongue. Levi grimaced. It was like breathing hot soup. He smacked his lips and tasted mildew in the back of his throat.
“This will be the end of you, bearded one.”
“Perhaps,” Levi said, “but I’d rather succumb to the white fuzz than return you to my world. Better to turn into a mushroom than to allow you to continue your work.”
As he talked, Levi pressed his left hand to the wound on his chest. It was bleeding profusely. He cupped his palm and his hand filled with warmth.
“Open the door,” the shortest one repeated. This time, his voice had a pleading tone. “We promise to return to our place of rest and bother you and those under your protection no more. Again, you have our word.”
“And what of next time?” Levi asked. “What happens when you come out of hibernation and murder another town? What about all the others you’ll kill? No, I’ll not have that on my conscience. There’s enough blood on my hands.”
“Dead men don’t have consciences.” The revenant who said this glanced at his brothers and laughed.
Blood dripped through Levi’s fingers. “I’m not dead yet.”
“Then let us rectify that,” the tall one said. “Powerless or not, there are five of us and one of you. You are outnumbered and you are wounded.”
They moved toward him in a half circle. The two on the ends tried to flank him on either side. Levi flung a fistful of his blood at the one on the left, spattering his face and clothing.
“By His blood I bind thee. By His blood I command thee. By His blood, which was shed for me, do I trod on thee.”
Shrieking, the dark man recoiled, clawing at his face. Smoke rose from his clothing and skin. He collapsed to the ground and lay writhing and kicking as the smoke grew thicker.
“The power and the glory forever, amen.”
The others hesitated, glancing down at their brother in confusion and panic. Levi cupped his hand to his breast and gathered more of his blood.
“Now there are four of you,” he said. “Did I mention that without your abilities, my powwow works on you?”
They charged him all at once, rushing forward. Levi splashed a fistful of blood in the face of the closest attacker. The dark figure reeled backward. The other three slammed into Levi, pushing him to the ground. He struck the surface hard, yelping as his wounds were opened afresh. The ground itself yielded, seeming to suck him deeper. A flurry of blows rained down upon him. Their fists battered his face and chest. A punch to his stomach forced the air from his lungs. He gasped, breathing in more of the noxious, musty air and tasting mildew and blood. His stomach lurched. The pounding continued. Levi closed his bruised and swelling eyes and exhaled.
“He loses consciousness already, brothers.”
“He does, indeed. Stay awake, little magus.”
“We have only just started with you. We do not need our powers to rend the flesh from your bones or show you your insides. We can do it with our bare hands.”
Levi ignored the rough, chattering voices and focused on himself. The pain faded until he no longer felt the blows and punches, even though they continued to fall upon him. He could no longer hear his attackers, no longer feel their crushing weight. Gone, too, was the cloying, potent stench of the planet’s atmosphere and the wet, slimy touch of the ground. There was only Levi, floating above himself. He looked down at his body, watched with a sense of detachment as one of his attackers wrapped their hands around his throat and squeezed. Summoning all of his strength, Levi found his center and then returned to his body.
He forced what little air remained in his lungs through his nose and simultaneously pushed with his mind. His shoulders stiffened and his body trembled as he shoved harder, visualizing his will as a physical bludgeon. Then his eyes snapped open and all three of his attackers were shoved backward as if they’d been struck. They flew through the air like rag dolls, soaring away from him before ultimately slamming into the fibrous, fungal surface.
Levi struggled to sit up. Each movement was agony. One of his eyes had swollen completely shut and the other was only a slit. He strained, trying to find the spot where the doorway had bee
n. If he couldn’t find it, he’d be trapped here with them. His opponents would never let him live long enough to open a second passage. Wincing, he turned his head. The three attackers lay still, apparently stunned by the force of his psychic defense. The other two—the ones he’d splashed with blood—were now just smoking piles of ash. He wondered where their spirits had gone. Here, or back to Earth, where their original bodies still lay buried?
One of the three remaining revenants twitched. Levi tried to stand up, but found that he couldn’t. The pain was too great. Resolving to try again, he bit his lip—and screamed aloud. It had been smashed and split by the beating he’d taken, but the pain helped him focus. It forced him on. Still, despite his best efforts, his body refused to obey his commands. Levi crawled forward on his hands, trailing his useless legs behind him. His feet carved shallow furrows in the ground, and his elbows made sucking sounds in the turf as he pulled himself along. Stagnant water pooled around him, welling up from below the surface. Levi was suddenly aware of being very thirsty, and for a brief moment, he considered drinking the loathsome liquid. Just a little bit, enough to quench his thirst.
“No . . .” He meant to shout it, but the utterance was barely a croak.
Whimpering, Levi focused on the terrain. He dragged himself through the ashes of his enemies, smearing them against his damp, bloody clothes, until he’d reached the spot where the door should be. The wind howled, racing across the gray-white plain. Levi raised one trembling hand and almost blacked out. His vision wavered. His ears roared. He forced himself to take another deep breath, inhaling more of the sickening air. It felt gritty, as if he’d breathed in sandpaper. The sensation passed, and his vision returned. Levi raised his hand again, stretching one quivering arm forward. When his broken finger brushed against the invisible door, he moaned. The crooked digit throbbed. His vision blurred again, and this time, it did not clear.