by Edward Lee
Ruth knew if she did that there'd be no Purgatory for her a thousand years from now ...
"I'11 do it ... you fucker.
"Good girl. Try to get me arms and legs from an Usher-you know what they look like. But if you can't, go for Troll limbs or limbs from a strong Conscript."
Ruth chuckled. "Beggars can't be choosers, huh?"
Alexander raised his stumps. "You're quite right. Human Conscripts lead each Squad, and each Squad usually contains two Ushers and a half dozen demons of pretty much any species. I've heard that they've added Anneloks as well."
"What's that? Or ... don't I want to know?"
"An Annelok is another experiment that came out of the Academy of Teratology, where they Hexegenically crossed Human genes with a species of Demon known as Mephistus Annelia-your basic Worm Demon. Since their brains are so small, they're very easily manipulated by Subordination Spells. The Annelok's got arms, legs, and an abdomen that look like giant earthworms. They can squeeze a Demon or Conscript to death in seconds. This new one's third generation, so watch out. It's almost as savage as an Usher."
Even Ruth's not terribly sharp mind caught the flaw. "Wait a minute. Ushers are those big-ass things with slimy grayish brown skin, claws, and faces like meat, right?"
es."
"If they're the ones doing the mutilating, how am I gonna get any of their limbs?"
Alexander nodded. "See those four Imps over there?"
Ruth looked down the street and saw the four things sitting against a building. They wore rags, rotten shoes, and held out cups hoping for change.
"They look like homeless bums ... except with horns."
"That's what they're supposed to look like. They are really Contumacy operatives-the Satan Park Sect. They're anti-Luciferic terrorist agents masquerading as homeless bums. They'll do a quick hit and run, take out several Ushers and Conscripts with their weapons, then slip away."
"What weapons? Those guys aren't carrying anything except cups for change."
Alexander smiled. "Just watch."
Ruth stood by, eyeing the bustle of pedestrians. Some big thing that looked like a giant jaw on two legs strode by. That's fucked-up! she thought. Then came a Human woman totally naked, but her skin was completely covered by grafted faces. Get out of here! Several creatures that looked part-reptile and part-Troll were playing some crapslike game on the sidewalk but with fingers instead of dice. Hybrids, she guessed. Then another Human walked by, but with four heads.
Fuck this shit, man....
A fat clown approached her next. White makeup had been poorly applied in an attempt to cover up nests of some kind of parasite living in his cheeks. Frizzed orange hair sprouted from either side of his head, and he had a red rubber nose like Bozo.
"Awesome rack, baby," the clown said in a high, squeaky voice. "How much for a quicky?"
Ruth was appalled. "What do I look like, a whore?"
The clown chuckled. "Well ... yeah. And I got money. Come on. A Brutusnote, all right?"
"Cram it, clown."
The clown shrugged in disappointment. "Oh well. Wanna squeak my nose?"
Ruth pulled the big sulphur pistol. "No. I wanna blow your ridiculous clown-ass back to McDonald's, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do if you don't move you're polka-dotted shit on down the road right fuckin' now!
The clown hustled away.
"You're a tough gal, Ruth," the priest said.
Ruth was still fuming. "Can you believe that guy? He thought I was a whore just by looking at me."
Alexander reserved any comment that may have come to mind.
Ruth kept looking around, over the tops of the brown buildings. The red sky churned, threaded by countless black plumes of smoke rising from every direction. Just past a leaning skyscraper, the windows of which were all upside-down crosses, Ruth saw a big patchwork balloon with a basket beneath lifting off. "Hey, look!"
The priest seemed disheartened. "Every now and then some poor soul manages to build a noble-gas balloon, thinking it'll take them to another Netherplane. Never does, though."
"At least they've got the balls to try," Ruth said, watching excitedly.
"And the stupidity. Something always gets them: Griffins, Caco-Bats, gunners in a Cloud Station, or-"
"Shit, what's that?"
In an instant, several squatty things sort of like apes seemed to climb down from black clouds via ropes. They swung toward the balloon basket, leapt inside, and attacked the balloon's pilot. Body parts were soon cast over the side as the things reveled on the balloon's rope.
"Or Gremlins," Alexander said.
Eventually one of the creatures got a claw up, and the balloon began to deflate. The Gremlins leapt back to their ropes and disappeared upward.
"You can forget about air travel here, Ruth. Unless you've got a Nectoport, you'll never get out of the Mephistopolis." Alexander tensed up, then jerked a glance at Ruth.
"Feel that?"
"Feel wh-" But then she did feel something. "Yeah, it's like-"
"It's a barometric pressure change," the priest informed. "Get ready. It means some Nectoports are about to open. Keep your eye on those four bums."
Ruth tried to but something kept dragging her gaze to the street. There were a hundred residents in the Zone, at least, and most stopped, looking around in dismay because they felt something, too.
A shriek: "Oh my God, it's a Mutil-" but at the same time a louder sound began to resonate:
Sssssssssssssssss-ONK!
Then a terrifying CLAP! cracked in the air along with several blindingly bright flashes like a camera flash, only the light was gooey green. As more screams rose, Ruth noticed a light sort of hovering at either end of the Mutilation Zone.
"See those blobs? Watch. And don't step across the line until I tell you."
Blobs? Yes, now she saw what he meant. There were two green blobs of light that were shifting like something molten.
Ruth shrieked. "Holy fuckin' shit!"
A louder CLAP! resounded and suddenly the blobs had expanded into shuddering rims of the same gooey green light.
Rims, or, more appropriately, openings.
And through those two openings rushed a throng of armed Demons.
"Right and left flanks!" a Conscript shouted. "Cordon the Zone, then draw in. Strike first to disable. Cause maximum pain!"
The borders of the Mutilation Zone were quickly encircled by the first wave of slavering Ushers and a second wave of Anneloks. The later grabbed residents two at a time around the waist, then constricted their snakelike arms to sever spinal columns, while the Ushers used their claws-sharp as grappling hooks-to tear chunks out of the crowd. These flanks were followed by Conscripts and various armed Demons. Ruth could hear the eerie whir, like a threshing sound, as their swords, hewers, and great double-bladed axes blurred in the air to butcher anything before them.
More screams exploded. Limbs, heads, and blood of different colors began to fly.
"Ruth!" Alexander urged. "Watch those bums now."
Her eyes found them. The rag-draped Trolls had jumped up and seemed to be wiping something off with rags, in long up and down strokes, but the harder she squinted-
"There's nothing there! What are they wiping?"
"They're cleaning Sleath Tincture off their weapons."
In moments, like erasure in reverse, wooden hafts and long gleaming blades began to form beneath the strokes or their rags, eventually revealing machetes and axes.
"Wow! That's some fuckin' trick!" Ruth exclaimed.
And then the Trolls attacked from behind. They cleaved into the rear guard of Conscripts, their own weapons whirring as well. Now it was Conscripts' heads and demonic body parts that began to drop.
"Awesome," Alexander said.
"Reform!" a Conscript yelled. "Terrorists have infiltrated th-" and then his head shot across the crowd as a Troll pulled his machete across the shoulders.
"Get ready," the priest warned.
The sneak a
ttack had caused the Mutilation Squad to fall into chaos. When Ushers tried to turn, their talons mistakenly gouged into the row of Anneloks, some of whom began to fight back.
"This is great!" Ruth celebrated. "They're fighting each other!"
"Retreat!" someone yelled.
"There they go," Alexander said. "The perfect hit and run."
The four Trolls who'd caused all this havoc in just seconds cut their way back to the sidewalk, where a whiteskinned Gargoyle waited. The Trolls each grabbed a leather handle harnessed to the macabre beast, then- Swoosh!-the Gargoyle whisked up the side of the building and disappeared.
"Retreat and recover! Return to Egression Points!"
Conscripts were now hacking through their own troops to get back to the Nectoports. The green light began to intensify, and now a whistle was blowing. When the flanks had collapsed, dozens of citizens had been able to slip out of the Zone. Ruth guessed that more than half had escaped.
Nevertheless, the other half hadn't, most of whom now lay in pieces on the street.
"Go now, Ruth!" the priest ordered.
Fuck this shit, man! Ruth thought, sprinting over the line. She spotted a pair of Usher legs just inside the yellow border, but when she tried to get them both under her arm-
"Fuck!" she yelled. They were too heavy, and what made it worse was that they were still moving. So she grabbed each ankle and dragged them back to the alley.
"I need two arms, too, Ruth!" the priest's voice cracked.
"I can't carry all that shit at once!" she yelled back. "These fuckin' things weigh a hundred pounds each!"
"Go! Go get me two arms now!"
Ruth rushed back, swearing under her breath. There were severed arms all over the place, lots of them from Ushers. She jumped at a final clap! and saw that the Nectoports had vanished, leaving many Ushers and Anneloks to fight amongst themselves.
They looked like they were having a good time.
Ruth reached forward and snatched up a severed Usher arm, but-Fwap!-she immediately fell on her face when her flip-flop slipped in a puddle of brown blood. Shit!
"Ruth! Behind you!"
It was Alexander. When she turned, sitting on her butt-
Oh my God! What is-
A glistening pink Annelok stood over her. It began to reach down with arms like giant earthworms.
Ruth's instincts kicked in. She didn't even think when she lunged forward. The flap of ragged pink meat that hung between its legs in no way resembled genitals, but she figured that's what it must be anyway.
So she bit the thing. Hard.
The Annelok shuddered, making a noise more like a teapot boiling over. Ruth ground her teeth until the meat between them detached; then the Annelok ran away, mewling.
Ruth spat the stuff out fast.
"Help me! Help me!" came a high-pitched voice she somehow recognized.
A gloved hand pawed her face.
It was the clown.
His legs had been cut off at the knees.
"Get me out of here!" the clown implored.
Ruth shoved his face away. I hate fuckin' cloums. She hopped back to her feet, grabbed another Usher arm, but-
"Hey! Stop that!"
Another Usher was trying to take a Demonic toddler away from its rotten mother. The toddler squalled.
Ruth threw the arm at the Usher and hit it right in the head. "Pick on someone your own size, ass-face!"
The mother retrieved her homed child and ran away.
Then the Usher turned toward Ruth. In the slits of its eyes, she saw a glint like lust. Its jaw fell open, revealing bloody, stalactitelike teeth, and then its huge, meaty hands opened, talons sparkling.
The thing lunged forward-
Barn!
Ruth hit the thing in the face with the sulphur pistol. The top of its head flew off like a Frisbee.
"Hurry!" Alexander yelled. "The Disposal Squads are coming!"
Ruth heard hooves pounding brick, then saw wagons approaching. She definitely didn't like the looks of the things driving the wagons. She grabbed two arms and ran back to the priest.
"Quick! Drag me and the limbs to the end of the alley! We can't be seen!"
Ruth did so, huffing.
Safely hidden in the alley now, Alexander said, "You did it, Ruth. You're quite a girl."
She sat down with a thump, no longer caring that the pavement was made of hardened excrement. "Did you see that crazy shit? I can't believe I ever got out of that meat grinder." She spat again, wincing. "Shit, I think I bit off a worm-man's dick!"
"You're a brave, brave woman, Ruth, and my intelligence source will be very happy about this."
v Ruth sighed, suddenly exhausted. Had she wet her shorts in sheer terror? Fuck... "I need a drink."
"We'll be able to get one later. But for now, get the little foil tube out of my pouch."
Ruth kneed over and in the pocked pouch around his neck found something that looked like a crude tube of travel-size toothpaste.
"What the fuck's this?"
"Ruth, do you have to use the F-word every time you open your mouth?"
"Fuck yes!" she shouted at him. "And don't give me shit! I was neck-deep in monster guts out there!" She wagged the tube in his face. "Now what the fuck is this?"
Alexander smiled. "It's regeneration balm. There's only enough to reconnect four limbs, so use it sparingly."
"Reconnect? So that's it. I should've know it would be something fucked-up like that." She unscrewed the top, sniffed, then gagged. "So what do I do with it?"
"Squeeze a little onto your fingertip and rub it around the severed-end of each limb you got. Then just ... hook me up. Do the legs first, 'cos they take more."
Ruth dragged both heavy legs over and applied the balm. While doing so, she noticed the end of the alley and saw the hopper-backed wagons rolling by.
"And try to keep your voice down. We don't want the Leperotics to see us."
I don't want to know ...
Ruth dragged each leg to Alexander's stumps. "Wow, that's pretty cool."
The priest nodded, biting his lip as if in pain.
The connections were healed as Ruth watched. "So this shit is some kind of funky glue?"
"More like metaphysical solder. Hurts a little but it's working. Now the arms."
She applied a daub to the first arm, then paused and drew a long face.
"What's the matter, Ruth?"
"I_,,
"What!"
Finally she admitted it: "I fucked-up. I thought I grabbed two Usher arms but ... I only grabbed one."
"But I saw you bring back two arms after you got the legs. What was the second arm?"
Ruth held it up.
It was a severed Annelok arm, like a yard-long earthworm four inches thick.
The priest slumped. "Well. I guess it'll have to do...."
(n)
"Nemesis, or more specifically God's enemy, is the best translation of the word ash-shaytan," Driscoll told them. They were walking down the stair-hall now, at Venetia's request.
"Does Eosphorus mean torchbearer?" she asked.
"Yes, torchbearer, light bearer, in Greek, and essentially the same thing in Latin, for Lux Ferre. Two more names for Satan, which I'm sure you can both comprehend as the diligent Christian theology students that you both are, right?"
"Oh, that's right," Dan offered. "Lucifer is still sometimes referred to as the Morning Star, or the Light of the Morning."
"Do you know why?" Driscoll asked.
"Because he was thrown out of Heaven in the morning," Venetia recalled. "In Hell, he's the Prince of Darkness, but before the Fall, he was the Angel of Light. That's why so many references to Lucifer involve a parallel reference to light."
"Very good. And according to some of the earliest Christian writers in the First Century, Lucifer fell in a westerly direction. The great light that was witnessed that morning may have been his wings burning." Driscoll smiled at them. "And I can guess whet you both are thinking..
..,,
Venetia wasn't sure how much Biblical imagery was literal, but Dan spoke right up, with a hint of sarcasm: "Do I lack faith if I actually don't believe that part about the burning wings?"
"Not at all," Driscoll chuckled. "What our finite minds can't comprehend, we chalk up to the mysteries of faith. You'll be a priest someday, Dan, and Venetia may become a nun. The quality of your vocation doesn't depend on what you personally believe might be figurative or an abstraction. We'll find that out when we die. Until then, it's best to just live by the word of God."
The priest's remark set Venetia's mind at ease ... but not all not all the way.
Then Dan said, "But atheists have a point when they condemn the mysteries of faith as a cop-out."
Driscoll shrugged. "They think what they want, we think what we want. And speaking of mysteries"-he shot Venetia an odd look-"why exactly have you insisted we go to your bedroom."
"Just .. wait and see," she said.
When they got to the end of the hall, she led them all into her room.
"How bizarre!" Mrs. Newlwyn exclaimed.
They all saw it at once.
"Oh, yes," Driscoll recalled. "You mentioned knocking your lamp over-"
"It gouged the plaster," she said, "and I saw a few letters. So-"
"Curiosity urged you to scrape off the rest," Dan said.
"Yeah."
Eosphorus. The word stood out on the plasterless brick beneath the gouge.
"Who could've done this?" Mrs. Newlwyn asked.
"Tessorio, no doubt," Driscoll answered.
The tall woman continued, "And isn't it interesting that he would hide this word beneath the plaster of this room of the prior house and also write the word in the corresponding corner of his sketch."
Silence seemed to collapse on the four of them. They all looked at one another.
Driscoll said, "It's probably nothing but- Dan, get a hammer and a putty knife."
"Great idea," the seminarist said and excitedly left the room.
The room that would correspond to the word ashshaytan was an empty bedroom. Dan met them there in a minute.
"Do I get the honors?" he asked.
"Go right ahead."
The hammer smacked the newly painted corner. The plaster fell out quickly, and after a few scrapes of the putty knife ...
"How do you like that?" Dan said.