by Wood, Rick
She screamed, fought against his hands, wept as the sadistic grin of her former tormentor grew.
This was the demon that had kept her captive for more than decade, for what had intended to be an eternity.
This demon had searched her insides with his claws, spending endless nights scorching her in the fiery pits of hell, taking masochistic joy in watching her burn.
The familiar face forced flashbacks to the forefront of her mind, imprinting its wide, joyous face watching as she struggled against his heavy, heaving torso. The foul odour of his breath panting over her as she closed her eyes and tried to ignore his thick thrusts inside of her, followed by thrashing whips and scalding-hot chains smacking against her naked humiliated body.
No, she could not face any of these faces anymore. Her memory clouded her mind in terror.
Balam’s smug smile faltered as it dropped her, the result of a tinge of pain. It twisted its human head toward the source, glaring at Martin, who had just conjured something sharp and thrown it into his arm.
Martin breathed heavily, a resolute mind mixed with an exhausted body. His battling had been relentless; first against the heir, now against this creature.
But he would be the one being damned to hell if he let this vile monstrosity harm his angelic friend.
Cassy covered her head, curling into a ball in a mixture of protection and rejection of reality. Maybe if she covered her head, shielded her eyes, she wouldn’t have to witness its disgusting characteristics any longer.
Martin attempted to conjure another sharp instrument, another defensive weapon, but was blown onto his back with the roar of Balam’s bull head.
The bull swept in a semi-circular motion, colliding harshly with Martin’s chest. The punch of this swipe sent Martin sailing yards across the field, landing heavily on his side.
He moaned, turning over, feeling his ribs. He knew instantly something was not right. Something was hurt.
But he couldn’t pay attention to it.
Cassy needs me.
He clambered to his feet but fell back to the floor in a moan of agony.
It hurt too much.
But it couldn’t.
It couldn’t hurt.
He had to battle through.
He lifted himself, forcing his body through the pain, pushing himself to his knees.
After a prolonged struggle, he finally found a way to his feet and limped forward, clutching his side, grabbing his ribs, mentally numbing the ache.
His eyes shot upwards.
It was too late.
Balam had Cassy in its clutches. She thrashed and battled and swore more than an angel should, but it was no good.
It had her.
Again.
It was leaping into the air on the bear’s back, sailing out of Martin’s reach with Cassy under its arm.
It was flying into the air, and that was one power Martin hadn’t harnessed.
He couldn’t do this.
The pain in his side…
He collapsed in a heap on the floor.
He couldn’t go on.
“Derek… Eddie…”
The floor rumbled.
Balam grinned widely.
It was the last thing Martin saw before he passed out.
50
Wings batted the air with severe ferocity, covering the horizon with its vast scales and sharp spikes. Three heads growled and snarled, eagerly spitting venomous hostility toward Eddie’s resolute face. Spikes veered into sharp points down the sides of its torso and onto its serpent tail that continued to thrash, beating the ground, shuddering the stone floor into cracks.
Geryon is a fucker of a demon.
But Eddie was undeterred.
He had fought the devil in hell and escaped with Derek’s soul.
This was like breakfast to him.
“Take cover,” Eddie instructed to Derek.
It was over now. His imprisonment was over.
This one bastard stood in his way, blocking his escape from hell.
He wasn’t about to let it.
Geryon’s three heads roared, spraying vile, wet wind in his direction.
Eddie laughed.
“That it?” He shook his head. “You do not know who you’re fucking with.”
Eddie rose his fist in the air, concentrating hard, and his hand combusted into five fiery fingers.
It had been a while, but Eddie still remembered how to conjure the elements.
Especially in hell.
After all, hell had made him.
It lifted its tail into the air, picking up pace, sailing toward Eddie. Eddie kept his fist of flames raised high, sending this through the tail as it smacked down upon the feeble ground Eddie stood strong upon, causing Geryon to flinch, withdrawing his tail in pain.
Geryon’s three heads snarled at Eddie. Within this snarl, Eddie detected a hint of intimidation.
From the demon that guarded the gates of hell?
Maybe being part-devil worked in Eddie’s favour.
He leapt into the air, springing toward Geryon with an easy flight, landing upon its centre neck. He curled his legs around its throat and squeezed tightly.
The demon did all it could to throw him off.
It batted its heads against Eddie, swung in ridiculous angles, soaring through the air and smacking Eddie upon the surfaces of stone and lava.
It dove toward the rocky hill Eddie had emerged from and turned over, diving its back toward the ground.
Eddie watched as the ground came imminently closed to his face.
He loosened his grip and dropped off, thudding into the rocky surface with a painful thump – but nowhere near as painful a thump as it would have been had he not let go.
He rolled to his feet, remaining crouched, poised, ready.
Geryon knew it was losing.
Eddie knew it was just a matter of time.
Then Geryon stopped looking at Eddie and turned its twisted grin around.
Derek cowered on the floor.
“No!” Eddie cried.
Geryon took hold of Derek, clutching its sharp claws into his shoulders, and floated into the air.
Eddie sprinted forward, reaching out for his friend, reaching out for the man who had come to save him.
Geryon’s wings narrowed and the demon soared downwards, plummeting into a fiery pit Eddie knew would do no harm to him or Geryon, but would burn Derek alive.
Eddie jumped into the air, swiping for them as they sailed past, but missed.
He ran to the cliff edge, where he could do nothing but watch as Geryon plummeted Derek down toward the spewing lava.
Eddie rushed back a few steps, getting ready for a run-up, then backed up even more.
He sprinted forward, gaining momentum from a powerful run-up, and launched himself forward.
Lifting his legs, pushing off on his toes, leaning forward, readying himself to jump.
If Derek died coming to save Eddie…
I couldn’t…
It was a thought Eddie couldn’t bear to face.
His legs moved quicker, gaining pace. His limbs accelerated, pushing him further and further forward.
As he reached the cliff edge, he placed his final foot on its edge and launched himself into the sooty air.
He spread his arms out, trying to glide, trying to let the humid air carry him, falling quickly toward the beast taking Derek to his demise.
Eddie reached out.
But Geryon had wings. It fluttered back into the air, hovering as it allowed Eddie to fall, plunging further and further, until Eddie splashed into the fiery pit below. He pulled himself through the lava and onto a rock.
A splash of fiery acid flew over the stony mound, sending a tinge of smoke flying into the air.
Geryon hovered in the air, smirking at Eddie. Holding Derek loosely. Only metres above the surface.
Eddie reached out for Derek, clinging to hope that he could yet do something to save him.
With a fin
al taunt, Geryon grinned as he let go of Derek, sending him pummelling into the fiery pit below.
51
Eddie peered above him.
Derek pummelled further and further downwards. Closer to the volcanic fluid that would burn him to ash.
He pressed his feet against the large rock.
Bent his knees.
Watched Derek fall.
Waited.
Bided his time.
Then, just as Derek almost fell to his doom, just out of Eddie’s arm’s reach, Eddie pressed his feet against the side of the rock and sent himself hurtling forward from the air.
He landed in the lava, continuing to sink. But, as he did, he kept his arms rigidly out above the surface, holding them strongly in the air. Ready to catch Derek. Hoping they had enough strength.
Gradually, he ceased sinking.
He had no idea if he’d managed to keep his good friend alive.
But his hands had stayed risen. He had held them in place. If he had caught Derek, Derek would still be alive.
Eddie kicked his feet, pushing himself upwards, forcing his way through the thick amber of the volcanic ocean.
His head reached the surface, lifting, shaking the ash off his face, throwing the thick gunk from his hair.
There, in his hands, was the graceful body of Derek, curling his arms and legs upwards to avoid the lava, to avoid his death.
Eddie kicked against the current, as if he was in a swimming pool back home, pushing himself further back. Once he reached the rock, he placed Derek on it.
Derek flopped, growing limp, feeling his body drain of energy.
Geryon roared. Eddie glanced upwards and saw the demon coming down for another attack.
He jumped onto the rock and raised his arms, watching Geryon open its claws to take him. Eddie ducked the thrashing wings of the demon as it sailed overhead.
Geryon turned and came in for another attempt. As it did, Eddie jumped onto its back, wrapping his arms around its central neck, clinging tightly.
This thing thought it could beat him.
A normal person, yes.
Not Eddie.
Eddie was not a normal person.
He was the heir to the throne of the place Geryon guarded.
He owned this demon.
Geryon pulled its body upwards, soaring into the black sky, Eddie still gripping tightly around the neck of a head that desperately gasped for air.
Eddie squeezed tighter, and tighter, and tighter still.
The eyes of the head bulged out their sockets, the teeth grinded, and Eddie stuck his hand into the weakened neck before ripping the entire head off.
He held it up in the air as Geryon fell back down to the stony surface. Eddie mounted it as it squirmed.
The other two heads looked to Eddie with a mixture of terror and helplessness. Desperate to exact revenge, but terrified of what this man could do.
No one had ever managed to oppose Geryon before – let alone rip one of its heads off.
“Yeah, and what?” Eddie goaded. “That’s two more to go.”
The two heads shot each other a hesitant glance over the open wound of the absent neck. With a deafening growl, it threw Eddie off, then turned and scarpered away like a scared little child fleeing an angry predator, flying into the distant, dark horizon.
Eddie stood still and proud, gazing over the fiery pits of hell that lashed out at him.
“Derek?” he prompted, searching for Derek, finding the stone Eddie had left Derek safely upon.
Eddie dove downwards, back in the fiery pit, and swam his way through the thick magma to Derek.
“Eddie, you did it!” Derek spoke with astonishment.
“Yeah,” Eddie confirmed, turning to Derek with a warm glow as he climbed onto the rock. “Now let’s go home.”
Eddie grabbed onto Derek, clutching his arms tightly in his hands, gripping to make sure Derek wasn’t left alone in hell.
Eddie closed his eyes.
Felt the heir’s presence.
Saw the blank unconscious of the heir’s state.
He was inside of him.
Every arm, every claw, every sharp, bloody fang.
With a scream, he felt a surge of pain shoot through his body, squeezing through his veins like adrenaline. Wind stabbed at his face, sharp attacks from a sudden rush out of hell.
He felt himself soar through the open gates of hell.
He felt grass beneath his feet.
He lifted his head.
He was inside the heir of hell’s body.
He let it go. Let the heir of hell go, sunk out of it, until he was able to look upon the heir, look upon what had been his cage for so long.
He was in a field, Derek on the floor coughing, a few yards away from him.
There was a swing set nearby that Eddie recalled in numerous significant memories, left strewn in pieces.
Martin. The young boy he had watched with pride through the heir’s eyes. He lay weakly across the field.
Then Eddie tried to look down. Nothing was there.
He tried to move, but he couldn’t.
Eddie was nothing.
Eddie could not help Martin.
He couldn’t even talk. Couldn’t even budge.
He didn’t even have a body, or a face.
He was a ball of energy, small enough to hold in a hand, helplessly dangling in the air.
52
Derek ran to Martin’s side, lifting his head up.
Martin’s eyes blinked hazily.
“Cassy…” Martin whimpered. “It took Cassy…”
A large growl rumbled through the air.
The heir’s eyes shot open as it climbed to its feet.
Eddie was no longer there behind its eyes, preventing it causing any fatalities.
The heir stomped its feet against the ground, flexing its arms to the side, feeling its muscles reinvigorated with energy.
Derek looked to Martin, lying helplessly on the floor, wounded.
Then he looked for Eddie.
A small circle hovered yards across from him, the size of a football. Inside of it multiple colours bashed against each other, mixing with fire, wind, water, and multiple elements that Derek didn’t recognise as those of earth.
But that was all it was.
Eddie’s soul come to earth.
The heir turned to Derek and snarled.
Derek knew that, if nothing happened, he was moments from an imminent death.
“Martin, release Bandile!” he instructed.
Martin raised a weary hand, forcing Bandile to drop weakly to the floor. Derek grabbed the man by the collar, ignoring his size, ignoring his superiority in terms of muscle and ability to intimidate, and took him forward.
The heir swiped its claw toward Derek.
Derek instinctively lifted his arm, covering his face, as if it would do anything to protect him.
Martin shuffled to his feet, raising his hands, creating a wall of wind to fire forward and shove the heir’s claw to the side, causing it to narrowly miss Derek, then collapsed to his knees.
The claw thudded the ground, shaking it, forcing Derek to lose his footing and fall to the heir’s feet, inches away from the claw that had so narrowly missed him.
No time to lose.
He dragged Bandile forward and shoved him on the floor in front of the floating circle.
Before Eddie’s soul.
This was the only way.
They needed Eddie here and now.
“This is it, Bandile!” Derek shouted above the chaos of the wind Martin continually conjured, fighting against his wounds, forcing the heir’s claw to narrowly miss them by inches once more.
The heir grew angry, swiping down its claw and batting it into Martin, sending him flying onto his back.
A brief glance over his shoulder told Derek that Martin was unconscious.
Edward King needed to return now.
They needed Eddie. They needed his powers.
&n
bsp; Martin was out of it.
One more swipe and the heir would kill Derek. Would kill Bandile. And it would all be over.
It would all be over.
The heir raised its claw.
Its eyes glared.
Martin wasn’t there to save them now.
“Bandile, go!” Derek commanded, pointing at the soul. “Bring Eddie back, do it now!”
Bandile looked at Edward King’s soul hovering in the air before him.
Watched its elements bash against each other.
Knowing just a touch of his hand and Eddie would be returned.
Bandile turned over his shoulder to look at Derek. With a sickening grin spreading over his face, his eyes glowing with a sadistic fire, he moved his lips slowly and particularly to pronounce the one word that would banish Derek’s hope to hell with the rest of the earth.
“No.”
53
Derek’s eyes faltered, his eyelids fluttering. He could feel tears forcing themselves to the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them out, refused to go out like this.
Hope drained from him like water down a tap.
The rain beating against his face muddied his vision.
He dropped to his knees.
“Wh – what?” he stuttered.
Bandile stood tall, taking a confident stance, clenching his fists tightly beside him. He stood over Derek, beaming callously, enjoying the exchange of power.
“I will not bring Edward King back,” Bandile declared. “But I will watch you die.”
The next few seconds turned to slow motion.
Derek saw everything flash before his eyes.
Eddie’s face. The exorcism. Every piece of hope he had conjured.
He had not foreseen this.
How could he have been so stupid?
The heir’s claw swiped through the air. It seemed to happen to slow, yet Derek couldn’t move. Couldn’t flinch from the position on his knees.
Bandile had won.
The heir had won.
The antichrist, the devil, and all of hell had won.
Gabrielle was right, he should have left.
They all should have left.