Canticum Tenebris (Wrath of the Old Gods Book 2)

by John Triptych

  Shinji let out an exasperated sigh as they got closer. “Look at those things on the stage!”

  Naomi shrieked as she stared at what was on the theater. Hiro and Shogo just stood by in silent shock. When all four of them first glanced at the stage when they opened the doors, they all thought it contained several sets of brightly colored kimonos that were displayed. They quickly realized that these traditional Japanese robes contained bodies, but without any heads. Each headless body seemed to be sitting in a carefully arranged row so they all faced a potential audience across the hall. As the four of them got onto the stage and began to examine the headless robed bodies, the entire place seemed strangely silent.

  Shinji kept his hand on his katana that was still in the scabbard as he stood on the edge of the stage. “Don’t get too close to those things.”

  Hiro and Naomi had walked over to the other end of the stage. “Just stay close to me,” he said to her and she nodded. He realized there was no blood on the stage and began to wonder why didn’t those corpses bleed when they had their heads chopped off.

  Shogo snorted as he took three steps closer to the bodies but sensing that they were inert, he decided to take a closer look as he moved beside one of the headless figures and used two fingers to tug at the folds of its kimono while keeping the cleaver ready with his other hand.

  Shinji frowned at the foolhardiness of his younger brother. “Be careful!”

  Shogo had a smug look on his face as he peeled back part of the robe. “Looks like it was a woman, I can see her nice, little breasts,” he chuckled.

  Shinji just shook his head. My brother is such a fool, he thought.

  Seconds later, all four heard some sort of rustling noise behind them, where the backstage was, hidden away by the long, dark blue curtains.

  Shinji ran over to Hiro as Naomi started screaming beside them. Shogo quickly backed away from the corpse he was examining and ran over to them as well. Hiro had his wooden sword ready as he tried to look at where the sounds were coming from.

  “There,” Shinji said as he pointed to the high curtains at the back of the stage. “Over there!”

  At the top of the curtains, all four of them could see parts of it shaking as if there were things moving behind it. A few seconds later, small lumps that seemed to be the size of soccer balls began to appear beneath the curtains right above them. It was at that moment that the curtains fell onto the stage floor right beside them. The four of them began screaming in unison as the flying heads of the corpses began to attack them. Hiro realized that these were demons called nukekubi, creatures that could detach their heads. He had remembered reading about them in a manga comic book.

  Shinji drew his katana as one of the flying heads with a visage of a grotesque woman with a mouthful of fangs floated down on him but his swing was too slow and the nukekubi quickly dodged it. Hiro’s attack was slightly better as he swung with both hands and connected with another flying head that had tried to latch on to Naomi’s throat. When his bamboo sword smacked the nukekubi on its side, the demon flew back out into the audience area. It was like hitting a softball. Shogo also tried to take a swing, but his cleaver didn’t have much reach as two more of the flying heads came in from behind him and started biting his back.

  “Shogo!” Shinji cried as he tried to fight off the floating heads that had latched onto his screaming brother, but he too was overwhelmed as a half dozen more nukekubi came down on him like a swarm of bees as they tore out chunks of his flesh with their fanged mouths.

  Hiro kept on swinging at the demons as he tried to keep the nukekubi from getting any closer, but as he glanced at Naomi for a brief second to make sure she was all right, he abruptly shuddered and drew back. The woman he had a childhood crush on was grinning wildly at him with fanged teeth and her neck began to stretch until it extended ten feet high above the stage. That was when Naomi let out an ear-splitting laugh. Hiro realized she was a demon who had set them all up.

  For a brief second, time seemed to stop for Hiro as he just stood there in complete surprise while the bamboo sword slipped from his terrified hands and clattered onto the stage floor.

  But just as the creature was about to sink her teeth into him, a katana blade flashed from behind her and severed Naomi’s long neck at the base of her shoulders. The demon screamed as she tried to drag her head on the stage floor, her long neck wriggling like a snake.

  Hiro just stood there, rooted to the floor, as a young woman ran up to him. She was wearing a short skirt and a white blouse, the kind of uniform that was issued for girls in high school. A shiny katana was in her hands as she used her shoulders to push away the headless body that was wildly flapping its arms around.

  The girl with the sword looked at him quizzically. “Well what are you waiting for? If you want to live, you need to run!”

  Hiro’s voice was like a short croak. “But m-my friends…”

  “They’re dead! And you will be too if you don’t follow me now!”

  Hiro followed her off the stage and through the back exit. He never ran faster than he did that night.

  4. Seclusion

  Greater Boston

  Brookline was a small town located south of the Charles River in Eastern Massachusetts. Considered a suburb of Boston, it was home to a number of prominent people from both the old Boston aristocracy as well as highly-paid professionals that kept the town’s median income at such a level only the richest people could afford to live there. It was reported in the official census as the city having the most doctorate degrees in the entire country. The town’s prime residential areas were widely spaced along winding roads with plenty of trees in between the large colonial-styled homes south of Boylston Street. The northern part of the city had more of a village feel to it, with sidewalks and easily obtainable public transportation. A few months had passed since the god crisis began and now the city was blanketed in a layer of snow, all of its trees had been stripped bare by the relentless chill as if a vengeful winter god had cursed the northern regions of the Earth and held sway over it.

  It was early afternoon when a white-painted Ford SUV, with the blue markings of the New York Police Department, slowly made its way along one of the winding streets near the municipal golf course, its snow tires allowing it to traverse the slippery, ice-coated asphalt until it stopped in front of a modest sized, two-story house surrounded by white skeletal trees.

  Detective Valerie “Val” Mendoza stared at the red brick walls of the colonial-style house from her side window as she turned off the car’s ignition. “Wow, now that’s one hell of a house you got there, Professor. How many rooms did you say it has?”

  “Four bedrooms,” Dr. Paul Dane said softly as he unbuckled his front seat belt. “And you need to stop calling me professor, Val. Paul would be fine.”

  Valerie smiled at him. “Sorry, after that speech you gave to the Secretary of Defense, I now have a whole lot more respect for you. When that happens, I start to address you in a formal manner as a matter of habit.”

  “You really think it was a speech? It was more of a complaining rant.”

  Valerie chuckled a bit. The past few months had been stressful so she needed to find as much of an amusement in anything she could. “Not many people I know could tell those generals and senators to screw off like you did, especially since the country is under martial law. That took a lot of guts.”

  “Thanks, I only wish the president was there so I could have told him what I really felt to his face.”

  “And they accepted your resignation just like that too.”

  Paul shrugged. “I figured that unless they wanted to put me in jail, there was no way they could stop me from quitting.”

  “You really think that was the right thing to do? Resign your position as head of Task Force Omega at a time like this? I’ve always thought that unit was the one thing that could save the country.”

  Paul had a momentary flash of anger before his shoulders slumped in resignation. “I was no
more than a figurehead for that task force, Val. They brought a nuclear bomb into that museum without even telling me. That’s when I realized it was a purely military operation through and through. Seems the only thing those jarheads knows is how to kill things- their only way of solving problems that comes along.”

  “Well, nukes are one weapon we haven’t tried against these pagan gods.”

  Paul shook his head. “Whatever kind of weapon we have just won’t work, Val. I kept trying to tell them this but they just wouldn’t listen. You were there in the museum and you saw yourself that the giant worm had somehow been transformed into something else by what means we don’t even know. If that bomb had detonated, god knows just how bad it would have been. Most of Manhattan would have been toast.”

  Valerie nodded. “You’re right. I was at ground zero and could have been killed too. We lost so many good people in that mission.”

  “That’s what I mean,” Paul said. “And their stupid cover up about your testimony on the soldiers and their actions against the cops. It’s insane. They screwed up and now they’re just protecting each other’s asses. I’ve had enough of it.”

  “But without you advising them on the task force, isn’t it possible they could screw things up even more?”

  “Maybe. But either way, I can’t bear the responsibility for all those deaths on my conscience. So many people died because of me. I just can’t take it anymore, Val.”

  Valerie placed a reassuring hand on his elbow. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. General Benteen never told you about the nuke so you’re not to blame for the deaths in that museum.”

  Paul sighed. “It’s not just the museum, Val. Ever since this crisis started, everyone around me, everyone I know, is dead. I never told you about what happened in England when it started. I had an assistant named Megan and she never got out. The embassy got me out but a few more people died in helping me in that one too. I keep seeing their faces every time I close my eyes.”

  “I lost my old partner when this thing started too,” Valerie said softly. “He was my mentor and everything I learned about being a cop was from him. Maybe you just need a few days to rest and get a new perspective on things.”

  Paul took off his eyeglasses and rubbed his tired eyes. “Maybe, but either way, I just can’t face any more of this. I feel like I’m about to have a mental breakdown or something.”

  “New York seems quiet at the moment,” Valerie said. “We could fix you up in one of the vacant apartments in Brooklyn. Granted, it’s not as posh as this mansion of yours that we’re looking at right now, but at least you won’t be alone. Joe and Commissioner Donovan are grateful for your help and figure we owe you.”

  Paul made a faint smile. “Thanks for the offer but I think I would just like some time alone for now.”

  Valerie winked at him as she opened the driver’s side door. “Okay, don’t say I didn’t make an offer for you to stay with us. I guess we can get started with bringing your stuff to the house.”

  As Paul unlocked the keys to the front door, Valerie immediately went inside as she pulled out her Glock pistol and did a quick search of the place. The house was deserted. Paul hadn’t stepped foot into his old home for months, not since the Glooming had started while he was on a lecture tour in Europe. As he flipped the light switches, Paul concluded that there was no electricity either. He would have to live with candles and the few batteries he had for the two flashlights he had brought along. Paul walked back out into the driveway, opened the rear door of the SUV and carried a box of MREs to the house.

  Valerie walked back down the stairs as she holstered her gun. “Looks like it’s all clear. The good news is that it hasn’t been burglarized while you were gone.”

  Paul placed the box of military rations on the kitchen counter. “I guess I could be thankful for that even though there really isn’t much value in the stuff I have in this house anyway.”

  “I’m impressed,” Valerie said. “You got an antique four-poster bed in the master room, one room just stuffed full of books, like a library, and another room for your computer. The fourth has got displays of historic artifacts from all over the world, and you’ve got two bathrooms upstairs and one down here. You fit the stereotype of the old professor to a T. I’m surprised you stay at a huge house like this all by yourself.”

  “I stayed because of Elizabeth. She made me promise never to sell the house.”

  Valerie looked down on the dusty linoleum floor. She had forgotten that he was a widower. “I’m sorry I brought that up, Paul.”

  Paul smiled as he walked over and squeezed her arm. “No harm done. It was an honest question.”

  “Professor Dane? Is that you?” A voice that was coming from the open front door made them turn around quickly. It was a heavyset old man wearing a wool cap and a winter coat, standing outside the entrance.

  Paul quickly moved over to him and held his hand out. “Clint, nice to see you again,” he said as he turned to look at Valerie. “This here’s Dr. Clinton Taylor, my neighbor and unofficial head of the neighborhood watch for this block.”

  Valerie walked over and shook the old man’s hand after he had shaken Paul’s. “I’m Detective Valerie Mendoza, NYPD.”

  Clint took off his wool cap. “It’s nice to see you two. I thought you were dead or something, Paul.”

  Paul smiled. “Came close to dying a few times, but I’m still here. Why don’t you come inside? I’m going to gather some wood later so I can start up the fireplace.”

  Clint shrugged. “It’s okay, Paul. I can’t stay for too long. Donna starts getting antsy when I’m away from her for more than an hour. I decided to take a peek when I saw the cop car pull up and I’m sure glad you’re still around.” Dr. Taylor was a renowned neurologist who had been living in the area for decades and was an associate at the nearby Harvard Medical School. He had been loyal neighbors with Paul and was one of the pallbearers at Elizabeth’s funeral. When he wasn’t teaching at the hospital, Clint and his wife were ardent baseball fans and Paul remembered spending many pleasant afternoons and evenings with them watching the games at Fenway Park.

  Paul nodded. “How’s the neighborhood going?”

  “Well, I’m sure you know by now there’s no power. Everyone gets by using candles at night,” Clint said. “The reservoirs are frozen so most of us melt snow for water and stay in. There’s a food pantry that’s been set up in front of the Medical Center, but we have to ration the handouts we’re giving out now because sometimes the government food convoys get delayed. Oh, and the medical school has been turned into a full-time hospital. Nobody’s starving yet so we’re getting by.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Valerie said. “There weren’t any riots around here?”

  “There were some riots in Dorchester and Mattapan when this thing started a few months ago but the cold pretty much sapped everyone’s strength,” Clint said. “Now everybody just seems to be in a gloom as they huddle in their houses for warmth. The mayor and the cops are stretched to the limit so we have armed neighborhood watches that police the area.”

  “That’s good, better than New York,” Valerie said.

  Clint looked at her with wide eyes. “There’ve been rumors about New York. They said something about people being skinned alive or something like that. With the constant snow coming down on us up here and the Canadian refugees moving south, we don’t get too much news nowadays.”

  Valerie rolled her eyes. “Oh, you have no idea. Even with your problems up here, I think Bostonians have it easy compared to the rest of the country.”

  Clint turned to look outside when he heard a woman shouting his name before looking back at them. “Well, that’s Donna calling. I gotta go. Are you staying over with the professor, Detective?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Valerie said. “I have to get back to New York pretty soon.”

  Clint shook their hands once more before walking back out into the driveway. “Well, I hope you bring more food
and medical supplies next time you stop by, Detective. Talk to you later, Paul. If you have any problems, I’m just across the street!”

  Paul smiled as he closed the door after Clint left. “Well, I guess it’s not so bad up here.”

  Valerie looked at the fireplace as she rubbed the scar along her face. There were times when it got so cold she could feel the split skin that ran from in between her brow all the way down to the side of her chin. “You’ve got enough wood to last for a few days here.”

  Paul walked over and stood beside her. “You know, you could bring your mother up here and join me. God knows this house is big enough for the three of us.”

  Valerie turned and patted him on the cheek. “Thanks for the offer, but my mama would never want to live anywhere else but Brooklyn. Are you sure you’re gonna be okay here by yourself?”

  Paul clasped her hand. “I’ll be okay. I just need some time to take it all in for now.”

  “What if the government comes knocking again? You know how nervous they are when it comes to the southern border.” Valerie said. “Let’s not even mention that we’re now practically connected to Northern Europe because everything north of us has been iced over so anybody or anything from that continent can just walk over here.”

  “The southern border seems to have stabilized even though the country has lost half of Texas to the Aztec gods,” Paul said. “As for anybody coming over from Europe, they’re going to have to do quite a bit of walking over snow and ice and not to mention the constant blizzards they’ll be facing.”

  “You really don’t want to be part of DOD or NORTHCOM, right?”

  “Val, they just haven’t learned a damn thing. US Army North is now deployed along our southern border. They’ve got nukes and they’re itching to use them even though I’ve been telling them it’s useless. I would be a pariah just sitting around in their command post if I stayed with them and I just don’t want that.”