Délon City: Book Two of the Oz Chronicles

by R. W. Ridley

  “Mrs. Chalmers...”

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she said concerned.

  “I have to find Nate.”

  “Nate?” Her human eye brightened. “I know that name.” “Your son, Mrs. Chalmers...”

  A drunken voice roared from the staircase behind her. “Who’s

  at the door?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Answer me, you ugly cow!”

  I peered around her and saw a Délon standing at the top of

  the stairs with a bottle of whisky in its hand. It was Mr. Chalmers. “I said who is it? Speak, you stinking halfer!”

  I stepped past Mrs. Chalmers and entered the house. “It’s

  me... Mr. Chalmers.” It sounded funny calling the monster at the top of the stairs Mr. Chalmers, but I didn’t know what else to call him.

  He stomped down three stairs trying to focus his dead eyes on me. “Me who?”

  “Oz Griffin.”

  “Oz...” His posture changed. He dropped the whisky bottle and barreled down the remaining stairs. “Oz Griffin. Oz Griffin.” He fell to his knees. “Forgive me, Oz Griffin.”

  “Forgive you?” I looked at Mrs. Chalmers. She bowed her head in shame. “For what?”

  “I know it is forbidden to keep halfers in your home, but what am I to do, she is from my... before I transformed. Before I was reborn Délon .” Mr. Chalmers was shaking more than me. He was scared for his life.

  Mrs. Chalmers screamed. “I am only this way because you made me this way!”

  “Shut up!” The Délon growled. His fear was quickly replaced by intense anger. I could empathize with him. I knew that anger. I longed for that anger when I saw it in him.

  “I will not. You broke the law. You couldn’t wait for my marking. You broke the law.”

  Mr. Chalmers grabbed my pant leg. He began to plead. “I only wanted her to know the beauty of being Délon . The glorious hatred, the pure fury, the cleansing...”

  “Anger?” I said.

  “Yes, yes. I wanted her to feel it, to know it, to become it.”

  “You broke the law,” Mrs. Chalmers repeated.

  “It is an unjust law. You were filthy with your human essence. I wanted it out of my house.”

  “You knew what it would do to me. You knew I would become this.”

  Mr. Chalmers looked at me. “It’s not true. I had studied the old way. I read about the method used in battle. I performed it on her. I thought it would work.”

  I backhanded the Délon kneeling before me. I did it without thinking. It brought me a pleasure that I had never known before. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to rip the flesh from his bones. The wanting flushed away the coldness. I knew if I hit him again my blood would begin to boil and it would bring me the strength of ten men. I backed away. “You broke the law.”

  The Délon stood, his dead eyes full of rage. “No human hand shall ever be raised against a Délon. That is the law you have broken.”

  Hunched over, he stepped toward me and again without thinking, I sent my fist crashing into his face. I heard his bones crack. “Do you know who I am?”

  He rubbed his jaw. “I know who you will be. That does not change the law. No human shall...”

  I smashed him in the face again. “I am the law.” My strength was increasing with each punch. I wouldn’t have been surprised if with the next punch I decapitated him.

  I looked at Mrs. Chalmers and for a moment I understood the Délons’ disgust for halfers. She was beyond ugly. She was an abhorrent mistake of nature. I wanted to kill her, to end her existence so I would never have to look at her again.

  Mr. Chalmers was not done with me. He wobbled from the blows and the alcohol, but he was going to rush me at any moment. I could feel his need to attack. I raised my hand. “Get out of my sight before I call for the general.”

  The message got through to him immediately. The general would not show the restraint that I had demonstrated, and Mr. Chalmers knew it. He located his whiskey bottle and raced up the stairs.

  I made an effort not to look at Mrs. Chalmers until I could calm myself. If I saw her ugly halfer face, it would have taken every bit of strength inside of me not to rip her limb from limb. I breathed in and out trying to soothe the beast within. Gradually, my insides began to freeze again. I started to shiver. I felt a hand wrap around my shoulder. I turned to see half of Mrs. Chalmers’ smiling face. “You should sit down.” She guided me to living room and helped me to the sofa.

  “It’s so cold,” I said.

  “They’re punishing you.” She placed her hand on my knee.

  “Punishing me?”

  “You’ve been marked. They’re with you now. They can feel the Délon ways inside of you. When you fight them, they punish you.”

  “How do I make it stop?”

  “You become a Délon.” She said it coldly as if it were inevitable.

  I reached in my back pocket and pulled out the picture. “Nate, Mrs. Chalmers.” I handed it to her. “I have to find him.”

  She lightly moved her human fingers across the glossy surface of the photograph. I couldn’t detect the slightest bit of recognition in her human eye. The spider legs on the Délon half of her head danced wildly. “Who are these people?” she asked.

  “You, Mrs. Chalmers. Your family.”

  She looked at me. “Family?”

  Hearing her say the word “family” I realized that it was more than her not recognizing the fact that she had a family. She had no idea what the concept of family was.

  “Think, Mrs. Chalmers. Nate was born just a few weeks ago. Don’t you remember?”

  A tear formed in her human eye. “Don’t make me remember, Oz Griffin.” She was pleading. “Don’t make me remember.”

  “I have to find him...”

  Whispering, she said. “If you find him, they will find him.” She sniffed the picture. “He is a beautiful baby.” She screamed in pain. Breathing heavily she repeated, “He is a beautiful baby.” Her pain intensified. She threw the picture at me. “He would make lovely skinner food.” Her pain eased.

  To my horror, a small part of me understood her sentiment. A horde of skinners would dispose of the fragile little body in seconds, and it would be a sight to see. A sight any Délon would enjoy. I shook the thought out of my head and stood. “This will be over soon, Mrs. Chalmers.”

  She didn’t say a word. She stared straight ahead.

  “Mrs. Chalmers?”

  “I’m ashamed, Oz.”

  “I know...”

  “I like feeling this way.” The tears fell from her human eye. “Why is that?”

  “Because, Mrs. Chalmers.” I hesitated. “Because nothing is as it should be.” I turned to leave, but stopped. Without looking back I said, “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to find Nate. I’m going to find them all, every last Storyteller, and I’m going to fix this.” I don’t know if she understood what I was saying, but it didn’t really matter. I wasn’t really talking to her. They were listening. I could feel it. Every Délon knew my every move. They heard my every word, my every thought. There was no escaping them. They were inside my head, and I was inside theirs. I wasn’t going to hide from them. I was going to kill them, and I wanted them to know there was nothing they could do to stop me.

  I didn’t want to go home. As I stood there in the middle of the street, I could think of only one place I could go.

  FOUR

  Every step of the mile walk to Stevie Dayton’s house felt as if millions of tiny knives were being shoved through the bottoms of my feet. I stood at the front door, trying to catch my breath, to put the pain out of my mind, to summon the courage to actually knock. My biggest fear was that Stevie would somehow answer the door. That he would stand there looking at me, making me feel intolerably guilty for the way I had treated him. Worst of all, I was afraid he would forgive me, and it would mean nothing to me because of what the marking had done.

  Unable to put it off any longer,
I knocked. Heavy footsteps approached. The door swung open, and Délon Reya stood there, chuckling at my stunned expression.

  “What are you doing here?” I said.

  “Welcome to our little home away from home.” She stepped back and invited me to enter.

  I thought about running, but I knew chasing me down would give them too much pleasure. They loved it when you ran. I moved past her and turned to the living room. Mrs. Dayton sat stiff and nervous on the couch next to General Roy. Lou sat on the floor chained to a large antique bookcase. Mrs. Dayton was as I remembered her, a plump woman aged beyond her forty plus years, her grayish blonde hair disheveled, her hands spotted and rough.

  “Mrs. Dayton...”

  “Ahhh, our conquering hero,” General Roy said. “My, my, you really are a strong one, aren’t you? Most humans take days before they can even sit up after their marking. You’ve managed to take a spin around the neighborhood after only a few short hours.”

  “He stinks of halfer.” Reya shoved me into the room and took a seat on the other side of Mrs. Dayton.

  “What is this?” I said.

  “This?” General Roy smiled. “This is a party.”

  “Are you all right, Mrs. Dayton?” My concern for her pained me. It felt as if I were being poked in the heart with a flaming needle. I grabbed my chest.

  Mrs. Dayton did not answer. She could not. She moaned and gurgled. It was horrific.

  Reya laughed. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” She grabbed Mrs. Dayton’s face and forced her to open her mouth. Her tongue had been removed.

  The general stuck his finger in Mrs. Dayton’s mouth and twirled it around. “I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s missing.” He laughed at his own sick joke. He turned to me. “You see I have a sense of humor, too. We will make a good team, you and me.”

  Reya’s expression soured. She didn’t like me when she was a human. She didn’t like me now. Some things never change.

  “Why did you cut out her tongue?” I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.

  “We didn’t,” Reya said. “Not our style.”

  “Not at all,” General Roy said. “This is the work of a silencer.”

  “Silencer?”

  “Canter is its name.” The general stood. “Oh, yes, I keep forgetting. You’ve missed so much. Silencers, the invention of our second Storyteller.”

  My already frozen blood went even colder. “Second Storyteller?”

  “Don’t look so surprised. They’re not that hard to find really. They are stupid, whimpering, tortured souls. They might as well wear a nametag, ‘Hello my name is Donald and I’m a Storyteller.’”

  “Donald?”

  “Donald Freeman, a dishwasher somewhere in New Jersey. He’s 57, and every day of those 57 years he was mocked, ridiculed and humiliated by poor pathetic humans. It’s sad really.” He laughed. “Okay, more funny than sad, but still you can’t help but understand the monster he was driven to create. A silencer, a foul loathsome creature that dines on fresh human tongues. No human would ever be able to make fun of our Donald again.” He wiped away a fake tear. “And since we control their Storyteller, they are quite useful as our servants. They dine on the tongues we wish them to dine on.”

  “Why... Mrs. Dayton?”

  General Roy sat back down beside Mrs. Dayton, put his arm around her and pulled her in close. “The old bag wouldn’t talk, so we decided she didn’t need her tongue. I asked Canter to enjoy a snack on me.” He held her chin up with his index finger.

  “You pig!” My blood began to speed through my veins. The anger was building up inside of me, and with each passing second the frozen pain quickly began to disappear.

  General Roy stood and approached me. “Don’t fight it, Oz. The anger is good. Misguided in your case, but good, nonetheless. It’s what being a Délon is all about.”

  “Shut up,” I said. I pushed the palm of my hands to my forehead. I had to keep it together. I couldn’t give them what they wanted. “Mrs. Dayton doesn’t know anything...”

  “She knows the Source,” Reya barked. She jerked Mrs. Dayton by her arm.

  “The Source? What Source?”

  “The beginning,” General Roy said. “She knows what it is. We must find it. We must protect it.”

  “The beginning?”

  “Of Délons,” General Roy said. He was growing increasingly impatient.

  I moved towards Lou. “What makes you think she knows anything about Délons? This is where the Takers’ Storyteller lived. He had nothing to do with Délons.” I bent down and examined Lou’s wrists. They had been rubbed raw from the shackles. “Are you all right?” I whispered.

  She forced a smile and nodded.

  “Relax,” Reya said. “Your girlfriend is fine.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend.” It was a stupid thing to deny. It was of little importance given the current circumstances, but somehow the adolescent part of me found it necessary to clarify.

  Reya stood excited. “Good, then let’s kill her. My skinner needs to feed.” She reached for her pouch.

  I stood between Reya and Lou. “Not going to happen.”

  Reya stepped forward, but stopped when General Roy motioned for her to step back. She hesitated. Her spider legs danced and reached for me. She was disinclined to follow the general’s orders, but she forced herself to comply and sat back down on the sofa.

  “Unchain her,” I said bending back down next to Lou.

  “How did you put it?” General Roy said. “Not going to happen.”

  “Her wrists are bleeding. She’ll get an infection.”

  “She is an infection,” Reya said.

  “I said unchain her.”

  They ignored me.

  I stood and confronted General Roy. “Look, maybe you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be human, but we can get sick and die. If she dies, then you don’t get your king.”

  General Roy snapped. He let out a loud roar and lifted me by the collar of my blue jean jacket. “You would do well not to remind a Délon that they were once human. It is not a thing we remember fondly.” His corn rowed spider legs unfurled, one slashing me across the face. His hatred grew until I thought his head would explode. Then, almost as suddenly as his fury came, he suppressed it and dropped me to the floor. “Release her,” he said to Reya.

  Reya stood in a huff. “I will not.”

  General Roy did not take kindly to defiance. He rushed his sister without notice and ripped a spider leg from her head. “Release her, or I will pluck them all.”

  Reya howled in pain. Her head wound oozed a thick purple substance that slowly ran down her cheek. “Why do you let this human order you around?”

  “He will be king soon enough.” He shoved Reya to the floor next to Lou. “Besides she will not run. She is loyal to our friend.” He put his arm around me. He seemed almost jolly, as if plucking the spider leg from Reya’s head was an instant mood enhancer. “You asked a question before... oh, yes. This is not just the house of the Takers’ Storyteller. This is the birth of the end. We are the end, Oz, and we must protect our Source in order to reign forever.”

  “Let me get this straight.” I scratched my head. “You don’t even know what the Source is?”

  Reya finished unchaining Lou. Lou ran to Mrs. Dayton’s side and comforted her.

  “We do not,” General Roy said. “But what creature does?”

  “True, but you say Mrs. Dayton does know?” I said.

  “The old hag knows,” Reya barked.

  “So, you cut out her tongue?” I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess it’s safe to say you Délons aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed.”

  “Meaning?” The General said.

  “Meaning, if I found the one person who knows my Source, I wouldn’t eliminate her main form of communication so she couldn’t tell me.”

  General Roy snickered. He moved to the sofa and tossed Lou to the floor. He reached down and picked up Mrs. Dayton’s left ar
m. I had not noticed it before. It was nothing more than a stump. The hand had been severed at the wrist. “That is why we did not cut off her right hand, so she can write down the information we need.”

  For the first time since the marking, I felt real fear. It was a blistering cold that quickly engulfed my entire body. It was nothing like the cold I felt in my muscles and bones when I fought the Délon ways that were taking root inside me. It was a burning cold, a cold that seeped deep inside my nerves and shook me until I longed for... the taste of blood. It didn’t make any sense. I was afraid for my life, yet all I could think of was drinking the blood of some poor wretched... human. Somehow, I knew the warm living blood of a human would make the bitter cold go away.

  General Roy looked at Reya and smiled. “His first.”

  Reya stepped toward me. “He feels it?”

  “The craving. It is unmistakable.” The general spoke as if he were a proud father.

  “But it’s too soon. His shunter has not...”

  “Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” I said. I was exhausted from fighting the cold. I placed my hands on my knees and struggled to breathe normally.

  General Roy picked Lou up by her hair. “Take the King into the first bedroom down the hall.”

  “Let go of me,” Lou screamed.

  Without thinking I leapt forward and grabbed the general’s wrist. I could have broken his arm with no effort. I felt the strength in my grip and knew that the general was no match for me. From the look in his dead eyes, he knew it too. “Hands off your queen.” I smiled. It was that Délon smile I had so despised just hours before, but I couldn’t help it. It was a part of me now. They were a part of me.

  “Queen?” Reya said. She huffed and set out to throw a tantrum, but her brother stopped her with a simple slow tilt of his head. “But I am to be queen.” She looked as if she would cry.

  I laughed. “Not going to happen.”

  “But it is by order of the Royal Council. I am to be queen.” She stomped her foot. The tantrum was coming despite her brother’s wishes.

  “Enough, Reya,” General Roy barked.

  “But...”