The World Ends Tonight

by Wood, Rick

  Now Martin was out cold. Cassy had been taken by Balam. Eddie’s soul hung helplessly, soon to fade away.

  And he was about to die.

  The claw bashed into him and he felt himself flying through the air. At first, it reminded him of a rollercoaster ride, a childhood memory of going to a theme park, he hovered in the air for so long, lingering in the abyss of nothing. Remaining in the air, helpless to what would happen to him when he landed.

  With a hard thud, he collapsed on the floor. He immediately felt his arm twist and break, the snap echoing against the rumble of thunder.

  He tried to make it to his knees but he couldn’t. Too much hurt. Too much swelled.

  He flopped onto his back.

  His shirt became engulfed with blood, dark-red gunk seeping through the fabric, winning its battle against the rain. He had no idea where this was coming from. His whole body ached.

  A dark shadow loomed over him and he realised the claw was coming toward him again. Once more, it swept him into the air, firing him across the field.

  He landed on his ankle and felt his knee bend backwards, and his bone stick through his thigh.

  He screamed and bellowed in agony.

  He closed his eyes, feeling the life seep out of him, unable to take the excruciating agony of his broken bones.

  “Heir of hell!” he heard a voice boom.

  It was Bandile’s voice.

  That bastard.

  That traitor.

  “Heir of hell, listen to me!”

  Derek groggily opened his eyes, enough to see Bandile strutting arrogantly toward the heir of hell.

  “I have saved you!” Bandile announced. “I have refused to turn Edward King into a man, I have led them on false pretences. Give me room in hell!”

  It all made sense now.

  The pieces fit together and collapsed around him.

  Bandile was only ever interested in saving himself.

  The king of deception once again.

  “Give me my restitution!” Bandile requested once more.

  Derek’s head dropped, and everything went blank.

  54

  Bandile swaggered toward the beast, standing strong before him, standing resolutely.

  The heavy face of the antichrist lowered itself to Bandile, scowling at him.

  “Heir of hell, I have helped you,” Bandile assured the creature. “I have saved you.”

  The heir’s face turned into a menacing frown, scowling at this puny human before him, daring to claim that it helped in the heir’s ascension.

  “You help me?” it roared.

  “I did!” Bandile begged.

  This wasn’t what he expected.

  He imagined he would be endowed with praise. He would have to remain humble as the heir and the devil told him how indebted they were to him. He would have to choose from a selection of powers, choose which demonic gift he would be endowed with, select his own throne in hell.

  He did not expect to have to plead his case.

  “Please, my lord,” Bandile continued. “I told them I would bring Edward King’s soul into human form, but I didn’t.”

  “You said you would bring Edward King back?” the heir’s voice reverberated through the surroundings, colliding with the thunder, raising above it with terrifying power.

  “No, you don’t understand! I made them think I would, then I refused. I did not. I made sure I did not; I did it so you would survive. Please, don’t you see?”

  The heir screamed out, its rancid breath forcing Bandile onto his back.

  “I will kill you for opposing me!” it fired at him.

  Shit.

  The plan.

  It had backfired.

  It had all backfired. It had all gone wrong.

  The heir raised its claw.

  It was going to kill him.

  This isn’t how it was supposed to go…

  “Please, don’t you see – this is not what I intended!”

  Bandile turned his gaze to the supernatural ball hanging loosely in the air. It was starting to fade. The soul of Edward King was starting to fade.

  He turned back to the heir.

  Lifting its claw. About to kill him.

  He had to bring Eddie back.

  It was the only way. The heir was not going to grant him his mercy.

  There was no restitution.

  No absolution.

  No throne in hell. No praise. No godly status.

  Only an angry demon hell-bent on tearing him to pieces.

  He clambered to his feet, stumbled forward, reaching his arm out for the soul.

  The heir’s claw sliced through the air toward him.

  He reached out toward the ball of energy where Edward King was held.

  It was only a few steps away.

  I can make it…

  The heir’s claw brushed against his back.

  He leapt forward.

  He reached out.

  His hands landed upon the ball of energy, and light shined from beneath his fingers.

  The ball exploded into particles. Particles that quickly formed the body of Edward King.

  The heir froze.

  For the first time ever, Bandile saw a flicker of fear in its eyes.

  He turned and ran as fast as he could. Away from the heir, away from Edward King, away from Derek, and he did not look back.

  55

  Edward King stretched his arms out. Felt his fingers flex.

  No claws. Human fingers.

  He looked down at his body. His human body. His skin, his torso.

  He wore rags, but he didn’t care. They were real rags, over a real body.

  He wasn’t used to feeling these limbs. His heart beat punching against his ribs, his blood bursting through his veins.

  Everything that a human has surging through them.

  He was alive.

  My God, I’m alive.

  He opened his eyes, flinching them against the bombardment of rain drops punching his face and body, relishing the feel of water against his skin.

  The heir stood still before him.

  He looked to his side, searching out everyone else.Derek lay in a heap on the floor. A bone stuck out of his leg, his arms in a contorted mess. He didn’t move.

  “Derek…” Eddie whispered.

  He rushed to Derek’s side, put his hand on the side of his neck.

  There was a pulse.

  Derek was alive.

  Across the field, Martin wearily took to his feet.

  Eddie turned to the beast.

  The fucker who had done all of this.

  It was time to end it.

  Eddie sauntered forward with a few confident strides, standing face-to-face with the part of him that had laid dormant throughout his entire life.

  Thanks to Derek, his soul had been exorcised and removed from this entity.

  Thanks to Bandile, his soul was now a human. In a form he could use to fight.

  But it wasn’t over.

  Eddie stared into his own demonic eyes.

  Into the raging eyes of the heir of hell.

  This manifestation of his true self, his true nature, expanded into a large, contemptuous creature.

  Except the devil didn’t count on this. The devil underestimated the soul. The last defence of heaven.

  Eddie would hate this thing if he had the time or ability. It was a part of him, a part kept inside of him for so long, a part that led him to do some despicable things.

  A series of unfortunate events had led to its full form. Events he could not do anything about.

  Ten years old. Cassy died. Taken to hell.

  In 1992, Bandile Thato gave Derek a book that told him of the prophecy.

  Lamashtu. Attaching itself to Eddie and draining him of life.

  Millennium night. When Eddie thought he’d beaten Balam, but the night had just been used to signal the coming of the heir dwelling within.

  Derek’s soul being captured and Eddie having to
chase him to hell. That was the point at which the devil latched a piece of itself onto Eddie – the devil had successfully lured him down so he could take control of Eddie’s darker side.

  Jason Aslan’s death.

  Martin’s conception.

  Martin’s mother being captured before Eddie could realise what it was for.

  The Devil’s Three. The gathering of Bandile, Jason, and Martin’s mother by the devil’s messenger to conspire to bring forth the devil’s antichrist.

  The death of Kelly.

  Eddie’s hand slicing a knife right through her.

  Eddie looking down at the face of the woman he loved as she was betrayed, the final glance of her eyes seeing him murdering her. She was dead before she could understand why.

  Jenny. Her meaningless death.

  Then this.

  An escape from hell. The defeat of Geryon. An exorcism that successfully removed the soul from its attachment to the heir of hell, from its incarceration from the devil.

  All of this had led Eddie down a winding path to this moment.

  Now it was just Eddie and himself.

  Me and the piece of me that hid within me for so long.

  Never had Eddie been readier.

  Except there was one more thing.

  “Martin!” Eddie commanded, circling the demon, both of them scowling at each other as they marked their territory.

  Martin refocussed his dizzy mind. He had to get it together.

  He still had his part to play.

  “Where’s Cassy?” Eddie demanded.

  “Balam… took her…” Martin muttered.

  “We need her,” Eddie announced, watching the heir carefully, waiting for it to pounce, waiting for it to make its move. “We need her for what is to come.”

  “We don’t know where she is!”

  “Then you need to find out!” Eddie bellowed defiantly. “She is crucial. You need to get her back!”

  Martin froze. Where had Cassy been taken?

  “Now!” Eddie demanded with one final instruction as he turned his full attention to the heir.

  Martin groggily nodded and ran, stumbling to his feet. Eddie felt a pang of worry sending shivers up and down his body, worried for Martin. If they couldn’t get Cassy back, this was all over.

  “So,” Eddie began, scowling at the large, terrifying demon without a piece of fear. “You are the thing that’s been hiding within me for my entire life.”

  The heir growled, frowning, its hefty teeth clenched.

  “You don’t look that great to me.”

  “You will die!” declared the heir.

  “Yes, except you know what will happen if I do, don’t you?”

  A speck of perplexity came over the heir’s face.

  “The body cannot live without the soul,” Eddie smugly pointed out.

  “You lie!”

  “I do not lie. Who do you think I am? You?”

  Eddie chuckled at his own joke.

  He slowly started twisting his hands in a circular motion. It didn’t take long until they were surrounded by flickers of flames, the wind, specks of water, and piercing light.

  The heir lurched forward. Eddie flung his arms into the air, instantly causing an explosion of the elements. A push of fire, wind, and rain accompanied the bang, all aimed at the heir, all firing against him at once.

  The heir went flying backwards, landing on its back, causing the ground to tremor.

  Eddie jumped high into the air and came landing down upon the heir with a heavy fist.

  “Go on,” he teased, inches from the heir’s face, which was five times the size of his, yet still struggled for breath. “Kill me. See what happens.”

  The beast snarled, rising to its feet, and throwing Eddie onto his back.

  Eddie laughed.

  The beast roared.

  “That all you got? Just a bunch of roars? I thought you were meant to be powerful!”

  Eddie rose to his feet.

  Enough.

  It was time to end this.

  56

  Cassy’s throat grew sore. She screamed and howled and begged and wept but none of it did a single thing to change what was happening.

  If anything, it only fuelled Balam’s sick enjoyment.

  And she knew she should stop. It was encouraging the bastard, and she knew it. But she couldn’t.

  Her brow sweated, her arms shook, her heart thudded. She didn’t even realise she could feel such things as an angel, but being in Balam’s presence once again took her back to those emotions she had buried deep down inside of her. Those mental scars she thought she had covered with thick skin reappeared, penetrating that thick skin like it was wet paper.

  Balam lifted her up by the throat, his human head licking its lips, the bull head snorting, and the ram gazing longingly at its prey.

  He shoved her against a fence and within seconds the wires of that fence had curled around and turned on Cassy, entwining her in a painfully tight embrace, clinging to her body, wrapping around arms, legs, and torso until she was covered in metal scales digging into her bones.

  “It’s been a while,” grinned Balam, a masochistic, evil smirk wiping its face with destitute pleasure.

  “Go to hell!” Cassy screamed out, ignoring the irony of her retort.

  Balam dismounted his bear and trod heavily toward her, the weight of his thick legs rising and landing slowly, thudding the ground into trembles. As its human head hovered next to Cassy, soaking up her fear, celebrating her terror, the other two heads breathed over her. His breath was rank, a foul stink through rotted teeth. She was surrounded by the tirade of demonic faces taunting her, enjoying her.

  The demon placed its fingers over Cassy’s gut.

  She cried. She wished she could be more resilient, that she could say fuck you and pretend it wasn’t happening, refuse to give in to the sick punishment this demon took pride in giving.

  But she couldn’t.

  It took her back to being eight years old again. A young, innocent mind wrapped up in restraints, over a decade in hell, being opened up for the pleasure of the demon that now returned to its hostile stance before her.

  Its fingers grew. She looked down but couldn’t see the ends of his claws as they continually enlarged, sinking into her belly, into her guts, through her insides. In heaven, she did not have such feeble human parts – but on earth, she was compelled to take human form.

  She wondered if it meant this could kill her. Whether she could die in this form, or whether it meant she would just suffer the pain of a human.

  The thought ended abruptly as she howled in agony. She could feel the sharp blades of his elongated fingers wriggling around inside of her, passing through her various entrails, sinking inside her.

  Balam quickly withdrew its claws, prompting a spray of blood to squirt over his knee. He laughed triumphantly, enjoying the pleasure of her anguish.

  She cried and moaned, even tried to kick out, to escape – but her restraints held her too tightly.

  Balam’s face remained next to hers, leering with sadistic excitement, enjoying the demented glory of the pain it ignited.

  It was at this point she realised that, if she could die, she would be dead.

  She wished she was dead.

  She wished she had the relief of nonexistence, of passing onto heaven. But her angelic capabilities just meant that this human form was for show. She could feel the pain but bore none of the consequences.

  She scowled.

  Then thought.

  If this body is just an illusion, then so is the pain.

  She had to go numb to it. Refuse to let herself feel it. It was all for the show, all for her disguise, all so she could pass as one of them.

  All so she could convince them she was not a higher being.

  But she was a higher being.

  She was denied from heaven now, yes – but she was still an angel. A servant of God.

  The pain faded. She smiled cockily at the demon.r />
  “See that?” she spoke cockily. “That’s me not feeling a bit of it. Do your worst.”

  If it was possible, Balam grinned even wider. The ram head lifted back, then dove into Cassy’s neck, biting down with its sharp teeth, clinging on without letting go.

  It was agony. Cassy screamed out once more.

  I must go numb to it.

  But she couldn’t. It was too painful.

  She knew she could, but at that moment in time, she did not have the sound mind to do so. All she could think or feel was the pain. The continuous grip it had on her neck.

  Once the head retracted, she concentrated, focussed on ignoring the heaving, bloody mess trickling down her neck, a huge chunk of her flesh missing.

  It went. It took a while, but the pain went.

  “You can’t hurt me,” she spluttered, her resolve faltering.

  Balam shook its head.

  It knew what it could do to hurt her.

  He could give her more invisible scars than she could endure.

  Just like he had done night after night after night after endless night.

  It pressed its claw against the inside of her thigh, raising her elegant white dress that was now stained and splattered with red.

  She scrunched her face up. Closed her eyes.

  She remembered how it felt.

  The thick thrusts, the pain, the bleeding.

  She did not want to go through it again.

  She subsided. Gave in.

  It could hurt her.

  She struggled frantically against her restraints, pulling and fighting manically, with more and more ferocity. But with every attempt to release herself the wires only gripped tighter and she grew more claustrophobic.

  There was nothing she could do.

  She was going to have to take it. Close her eyes, think of something else and take it.

  Like she used to.

  Think of a happy family, the life she could have had. Occupy her thoughts with such positivity that she went completely numb to it.

  It’s what she did before.

  It hadn’t worked well back then.

  But she was stronger now.

  She had to be.

  She closed her eyes, shutting them tightly, tensing her body, clenching her fists.

  She waited.

  And waited.

  Nothing happened.