Carnage

by Sandra R Neeley

  She sat there, her head on her knees, praying for Norris to go away and stay away. She felt a sensation as though she was not alone — someone was watching her. She raised her head, prepared to flee, and her mouth dropped open when she found herself surrounded, engulfed even, in the same purple mist from the train station. There was no sound, but serenity suffused her very being. Carolena stood, watching the purple mist caress her arms, and hands. “What are you?” she whispered to the mist. There was no answer, but slowly it left her, dissipating beneath the still-standing door of her bedroom.

  Chapter 24

  Lore placed Murder in the hall just behind Norris as he pounded on Carolena’s door demanding entry, then allowed the mist that was himself to drift under the door and into her room, completely undetected by the drunken man. He went straight to Carolena, where she sat huddled in the corner, surrounding her, soothing her.

  Out in the hallway Murder did not hesitate. He wrapped his arm around the throat of the drunken man yelling threats to Carolena through the locked bedroom door. Norris, startled and drunken, tried to brush the arm away, shuffling his steps, “Let go o’ me!”

  Murder forcefully turned Norris to face him. Taking a special pleasure in the terror that he saw in the worthless human’s eyes. Murder smiled, displaying his full set of teeth, especially his fangs, tilted his head to the side as a confused animal would, and said quietly, “She is not yours.”

  Norris opened his mouth to scream, but quickly Murder jammed the heel of his hand into the bottom of the man’s chin to shove his mouth closed. Then he opened his huge hand and encompassed Norris’ entire face, claws digging in firmly and painfully at his hairline, temples, and jaw. “You will not have her — ever.”

  The purple mist once more appeared from beneath the still closed bedroom door and moved down the hall. Murder snarled, “Quiet,” into Norris’ face and silently followed the mist, with Norris in tow, as it lead the way to Abraham’s office.

  They descended both sets of stairs to the main floor. Once there, the mist moved down a hallway and slipped under the door. Murder came to a stop outside the office door and said to the quickly sobering man, “Open the door.”

  Norris whimpered, reaching out to turn the doorknob.

  Abraham, seated at his desk inside, jumped to his feet at the sight of Norris in the huge, black monster’s grip.

  “What evil is this?!” he shouted, and started spewing a constant stream of prayer as he crossed himself repeatedly, backing up against the wall.

  Murder laughed, the rich, deep laughter of a male completely submerged in evil, “Save your prayers, old man. Words cannot save you now.”

  The purplish mist hovering at knee level in the room began to swirl, and gather, shaping and reshaping until it finally took the shape of man.

  Abraham, praying louder, turned and snatched the slender golden crucifix off the wall, holding it out toward them as though to ward them off.

  Lore shook his head, tsked, reached out and snatched it from Abraham, “Do you think that a pitiful piece of metal can banish us? It has not even been blessed,” he snarled in his spectral, echoing voice as he kissed it and shoved it back at Abraham.

  Murder shook the man he still held by the face, “This! This was found pounding on your daughter’s bedroom door. Demanding entry to know what is his.”

  Abraham sputtered, “But, she is his betrothed.”

  The look of disgust that overtook Murder’s face was enough to have Abraham changing gears. He immediately turned on Norris, “But nonetheless, I told you to respect her and not to do anything untoward! At least wait until the wedding!”

  Murder, shaking his head in disbelief, “So all is well as long as he waits until you see them properly married to rape your daughter?”

  Abraham, still pressing himself against the wall, his eyes flicking between the specter and the monster standing in his office, replied stupidly, “If they are married, it is not rape. It is the duty of the wife to service her husband. Keep him satisfied that he may keep her happy.”

  Murder shoved Norris away from him, causing Norris’ body to slam into the left wall of the office, as Murder stalked to Abraham, “You do not deserve a daughter such as Carolena. She is good, she is kind. She loves honestly and loyally. You should be kissing her boots!” he shouted as he caught Abraham up by the throat.

  Lore watched the entire thing with an amused look on his face, as much of it as anyone could see anyway as it flickered in and out of focus.

  “What? What do you want from me? It is yours, only say the word!” then on a sob, “Release me, demon, that I may see another day.”

  Lore snickered, “Murder, perhaps we should take him up on his offer of getting what we want from him. Go, bring Carolena to us.”

  Murder released Abraham, shoving him back toward the wall he was previously cowered against, “I shall return shortly,” he said to Lore as he left the room to return to Carolena’s door. Once he arrived there, he knocked softly. She did not answer. He knocked again, and called out, “Carolena. Open the door.”

  Carolena still hiding inside her room did not answer, though the familiar voice had her peeking from her hiding place, now inside the chifferobe.

  “Carolena, open the door, we’ve come for you. You need not fear any longer,” Murder said, trying to make his voice soothing.

  Carolena’s heart soared, that was Murder, she had no doubt that was Murder’s voice! She jumped from the chifferobe and ran to the door, pausing before she opened it to whisper, “Murder?”

  “Yes, little Carolena, it is I. Open the door, you are under my protection, no harm will come to you,” he promised.

  Carolena wasted no time; she shoved the chair from under the doorknob and out of her way. She unlocked her door and flung it open. On seeing that Murder was indeed standing in wait for her outside her door, she flung herself into his arms, sobbing.

  Murder caught her as she launched herself at him, “All is well, shh, no tears now, all is well.”

  She lifted her head from his shoulder and through her tears begged, “Please, tell me, how is Carnage? Is he well?”

  Murder loved that this little human loved his friend so. He smiled at her gently, “He hurts, but he will be very well when we return you to him. Fear not — it will not be much longer.”

  Carolena nodded and laid her head back on his shoulder as she tried to regain control of her emotions.

  Murder spoke to her as he walked them downstairs, “Your father has offered to give us anything in exchange for his life. Lore asked me to bring you to your father’s office. I’m not sure what he plans, but we shall soon come to know.”

  “Will you kill him?” she asked, her voice still shaking with relief to be once again under Murder’s protection.

  “I think not, though I’d love the task to be completed by my own hand. What kind of father has such complete disdain for his own daughter as he has?” Murder hissed.

  Carolena, having adjusted herself more comfortably in his arms and now rode curled against him, shrugged, “He has never been a father to me. He’s never even liked me, much less loved me. It’s just how it’s always been.”

  Murder walked into the office, Carolena sheltered in his arms, her own arms wrapped about his neck.

  Abraham took one look at his daughter resting comfortably in the arms of the “demon” and spat, “You know this creature? You cavort with demons?! Shame on your soul, girl! Shame to your very name! I knew you were not worthy of your mother’s life. How she could waste her last breaths extracting promises from me to protect and see to your happiness is bewildering to me! Evil even in your first minutes of life, you stole her life from me and even her last moments!”

  Carolena listened to his words, realizing for the first time why he hated her so, “You blame me for her death. That’s why you’ve hated me all this time.”

  “Your very existence stole her from me. Now I see you as you are; you are a demon yourself! Thankful I am that she di
d not live to see your evil come to fruition.”

  She wriggled to be let down so Murder did so, while whispering, “Do not go too close to him.” She didn’t hear him, she was intent on her father. “Are you out of your mind? I was a newborn babe. How could I steal her life? How could I possibly steal her last minutes from you?”

  Abraham’s face skewed up in disgust, “She wanted you — even before conception she begged me for a child. I could deny her nothing, so I gave her a child. Then everything was about you, the baby will need, the baby will want, the baby, the baby, the baby! Then you came, and with your birth, you caused so much bleeding that her life slipped from her. And even then she was still yammering about you!! Keep the baby healthy, keep my Carolena happy. Promise me, on our love, promise me.” He looked at Carolena with such resentment that Murder stepped forward to stand as one with her against her demented, bitter father.

  Abraham continued, “So I promised her. I promised her that I’d look after you. That you’d be healthy, happy. Then she passed away from me, not once saying that she loved me, that she’d wait for me. I’ve done my duty — I’ve fulfilled my promise. Giving your hand in marriage to a man strong enough to keep you in line was the last of my responsibilities. I was finally to be free to mourn my wife, to live the remainder of my life without a constant reminder of the person who stole my love from me.”

  Carolena watched him, dumbfounded at his words.

  Murder placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her toward him, “You are well, Carolena. You do not need this male in your life.”

  Carolena nodded her head, “I know. And now I know that my mother loved me and wanted me. I don’t need him.”

  She turned into Murder’s chest and stood there, letting him hold her.

  Her father shouted in disgust, “He is a demon! Do you have no shame?!”

  Carolena turned, “He is no demon, Abraham. He is a Gargoyle. And he is more honorable and kind than you ever dreamed of being.”

  Lore had watched all this and was becoming quite antsy. He was not the type to stay in one place for very long. His mists wandered and drifted wherever they pleased, usually in search of his soul. Here, in this office, they’d been contained in this form for too long, and he was feeling the need to surge from this place. Thankfully, his time here was almost at an end.

  Norris, where he lay at Lore’s feet, began to stir. Coming to and running a hand up his own face in response to feeling the blood running down his face. He pulled his hand away and stared at the blood now staining it, then jerked his head up sharply to look around the room. On seeing the Gargoyle that had held him by the face and the specter now standing over him were real and not a figment of his drunken mind, he began shrieking incessantly.

  Murder, wincing, stepped over to him quickly, “Stop that shrieking!” he snarled in his face as he leaned over and snatched him up off the ground. “Now! This instant! Silence!”

  Norris, afraid of the creature holding him up off the floor, stopped shrieking.

  Murder sighed, “Thank the gods, what a horribly pitiful sound.” Then he faced Norris, “Do not worry, I will not kill you. Your soul is not mine to take. It is, however, of interest to my friend here.”

  Lore smiled sinisterly, placing his hand on the top of the man’s head, where the soft spot would be for a new born. Lore looked him in the eye; Lore’s complete lack of sanity very clear. “Do you know that this very spot on your head is the last place that the gods touch you? This is where your body is sealed after your soul takes up residence. It would be much easier if it were still soft, but…since it’s not, I shall just crack it a bit. You don’t mind, do you?” Lore, with inhuman strength, unequaled in any, grasped the man’s head in one hand and squeezed until it cracked. Norris screamed, pain and fear the only thought in his conscious mind. Lore smiled and said, “Hush, now, it won’t take long. Besides, you have it coming. A lifetime of wrong doing begets… hmm, Murder? What is it that a lifetime of wrong begets?”

  Norris, shivering, going into shock, blood streaming from the puncture wounds Murder left on his face, and blood streaming from his nose, whispered, “Forgiveness?”

  Lore laughed maniacally, “Oh, no, no, no! Not even close. A lifetime of wrong doing gets you — me.” With the hand still in place on his skull, Lore crushed it even more, inhaling as though a sweeter scent he’d never smelled. He kept his hand over the top of Norris’s head, smiling and licking his lips as the man slowly dropped to his knees, then prone on the floor, obviously nothing more than a lifeless body.

  Carolena did not see this. Murder had turned her to face him, holding her tightly against his chest to keep her from witnessing what Lore had done to Norris.

  Lore, finished with his snack, turned to Abraham, “I could eat your soul as well.”

  “Lore, we need otherwise, my friend,” Murder said.

  Carolena tensed, remembering that Lore was the Ancient that Destroy had warned her against.

  “You are completely safe here. We both came for you. Trust me,” Murder said to her.

  Carolena nodded, but pulled away from his hold enough to look on Lore, the Ancient.

  Lore smiled at her, not disingenuously, though there was still a hint of insanity to it.

  She smiled shakily back at the purplish tinted form of mist man standing there, then she realized, “You’re the mist!”

  Lore smiled again at her, “For now, child, but in truth I am many things. Do not fear, I will not hurt you.”

  Then he remembered that they still had business before they could leave this place. He called out to her father, “Abraham!”

  Abraham, visibly trembling, answered, “Please, do not take my poor, pitiful life. Spare me, and as I promised, anything you wish is yours.”

  “Ah, yes, I do remember that now. Here is what will happen; you will release any claim you have on Carolena, legal, familial, anything. You will sign over to her all lands you hold in Louisiana. You will sign over all rights to her, to her holdings and will never come for her again. If you do, you will meet the same fate as your friend here.” Lore prodded Norris where he lay on the floor, with a misty toe.

  Abraham looked at the “specter,” shocked — he never expected to have to sign over any of his holdings.

  Lore approached him menacingly, “Or, I could just as easily devour your soul now. Then Carolena will be safe and happy in the arms of her love again.”

  Abraham latched onto the last bit of what Lore said, “Carolena is happy? She has a love?”

  Lore watched him as only one of the most insane can, intensely, unsettlingly so, “She does. We have come to liberate her. And destroy all that stand in the way of her happiness,” he said as he flitted his hand about.

  Murder, ready to leave, asked, “What shall it be? Your soul, or your land? The contract we demand not only deeds your land to Carolena evermore, it also states that you never utter her name, or mention that you’ve seen us. You agree to those things, and you may live awhile longer. You speak of us, or any of this, and you certainly will not.”

  “Those things are not written into this contract — it is merely an agreement between myself and Norris!” Abraham said.

  Lore laughed maniacally, “Stupid, stupid man. Look again.”

  Abraham picked up the contract on his desk and perused it briefly. He looked up at the creatures and his daughter standing in his office. “How did you do this? It’s completely different from the one I’d scripted.”

  Lore waved his hands about the room as he strolled casually toward Abraham, “’Tis mere child’s play. But make no mistake, little man. I see things. I hear things. I will always know your thoughts. Do not test me — you will lose.”

  “You can’t possibly know my thoughts—” Abraham started.

  Lore cut him off, “The reason you wish to know that she is happy is because you believe your dear, dead Clara is waiting, watching, and because of that you must make it so, or risk disappointing her. You want only to be rid of
your child, free to wallow in your own misery and memories of your wife. You knew that Norris was not a good man, but cared not because at least he’d beat Carolena into submission, you’d no longer have to deal with her, and some of her beatings might at least make up for having to bear her presence all these years.”

  Abraham opened his mouth to speak, but again Lore interrupted him, “Oh, and you scald your flesh each night in your bath, because you can hardly keep your thoughts from taking the beautiful Rowan to your bed. Which is not a good idea in and of itself — she belongs to another, just like the demon there,” he confided, thumbing his hand toward Murder. “Regardless, in an effort to rid the sin from your body, you take scalding baths. But still, each day, you take yourself in hand as you think of the girl. Pity, your dear, dead Clara knows those thoughts as well.”

  Abraham resembled a fish — his mouth bobbing opened and closed at Lore’s words.

  “What shall it be, Abraham, your soul or your lands and your daughter? Either way I win,” Lore danced about the room, “win/win, win/win, choose what you will, but I shall win!” he sang to an erratic tune.

  Carolena could not watch much more; her father was cruel and unfeeling. He was demented with bitterness at best, but he was her father, and at one time her mother had loved him, she supposed.

  “Abraham,” Carolena said, “Perhaps you should just sign the document. Otherwise, he may think you disagreeable and revoke the offer.”

  Abraham snapped his eyes up to look at his daughter, then taking pen in hand scribbled his name across the bottom.