by Tim Ellis
As he hovered between the light and the dark he had a terrible vision. He imagined he was in the midst of all manner of horrendous atrocities and he knew then that he had descended into hell.
No heaven for him then.
Hell was obviously where he belonged. He must have done some unforgiveable things in his life to have ended up in hell. He tried to think of them, but nothing immediately jumped into his mind.
‘Quigg – wake up.’
‘Hello?’ he mumbled.
‘We have work to do.’
‘But . . .’ He recalled feeling as weak as a thousand year-old parchment, but now he felt rejuvenated – nearly-human again. ‘Hey, I don’t feel tired anymore.’
‘You’re a new you.’
‘So I am.’ Smiling, he looked up and nearly died. ‘God in Heaven! Who are you? What are you?’
‘I am Naamah the succubus and Guardian of the seventh gate of hell, and before you recoil in horror at the sight of me, you want to take a look at yourself.’
‘What?’ He tried to stand, but fell forward onto his face. ‘Oh God!’ He was naked, but that wasn’t the real problem. The real problem was that he had legs like the hind legs of a goat, cloven hooves and a tail that swished the flies away. He pushed himself up and took tentative steps towards an oval mirror hanging on the wall. ‘What have you done to me?’
‘You are what you are. Your outward appearance is simply a manifestation of what you have always been inside, Quigg – a satyr.’
He didn’t even know what a satyr was, but he had muscles like a weightlifter, curled horns growing out of his forehead, pointed ears and a penis that was at least twelve inches long.
‘Are you sure you’ve got this right? I mean, I always imagined myself as a cuddly koala bear, maybe a leopard at a stretch, or a panda chomping on bamboo leaves.’
‘You belong to me now, Quigg. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from those nymphs . . .’
A vein in his penis began throbbing as he looked around the decaying room. ‘There are nymphs here?’
‘I want you to remember that my bite is a lot worse than my bark.’ She looked down at his penis. ‘If you know what I mean?’
He covered up his pride and joy with both hands and thought about how hot those nymphs were.
She began striding along the hallway to the door. ‘Come, we have to go.’
‘Go? Go where?’
‘While I’ve been up here concentrating on you, I’ve been neglecting my other duties. Battle lines are being drawn, armies are being prepared and choices are being made.’
‘I’m a lover not a fighter.’
‘I know, but if you recall – I’m a guardian. I have obligations. Certain people are trying to close my gate, and I can’t let that happen.’
‘Certain people?’
‘Your old partner for one.’
‘Walsh?’
‘Kline.’
‘Old partner?’
‘You’re half-human and half-goat now, Quigg, which means that you’re no longer a detective inspector on earth. You’re my satyr, the father of my triplets and your job is to keep me happy.’
He licked his lips. ‘Now?’
‘No, not now. Now, I have work to do.’
‘Oh!’ He bounded after her. Triplets! Had he made a succubus pregnant?
***
After they’d rested, and Michael had composed himself, they began climbing the ladder up to the penthouse apartment.
Kline went first.
Michael brought up the rear.
After a time Kline said over her shoulder, ‘I can hear noises. Are they following us?’
‘Yes, and getting closer.’
‘I don’t know if I can go any faster.’
‘I’m going to get off at the next floor and stop them,’ Michael said.
‘We’ll both get off.’
‘No. Somebody has to get to the penthouse and let them know what we’ve seen.’
‘You can do that.’
‘I can’t let . . .’
‘I hope you’re not going to bring gender into it.’
‘I don’t think . . .’
‘You were, weren’t you?’
‘A guy has to protect his future girlfriend.’
‘And don’t think I don’t appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need protecting.’
They both climbed off the ladder at the next floor and waited.
Michael began to doubt their strategy. ‘Instead of confronting them, maybe we should climb down into the corridor and try the proper stairs or lift.’
Kline shook her head. ‘We’d be trapped. They control the lifts and stairs. Our best shot is to stay in the shaft.’
He nodded. ‘Okay.’
When the first head appeared Kline and Michael used their feet and fists to force the creature back. Thankfully, there were only two attackers, and only one could climb the ladder at any one time.
Eventually, both of the creatures that had been following them were forced back, but even though their faces had been smashed to a bloody pulp it was clear they were never going to give up.
With no other options open to then, Kline and Michael began climbing the ladder again and soon arrived at the corridor outside the penthouse apartment.
They jumped down.
From what Kline could see, army numbers had improved slightly. There were about fifty people milling around.
Ken Coxon was an overweight man in his early thirties with flabby white skin, a surgically–corrected hair-lip and a gold Rolex watch that rattled around on his left wrist as he moved. ‘Michael! We’d given up on you.’
‘I got distracted.’
He looked Kline up and down as if he was in a lap dancing emporium and licked his lips. ‘So I see.’
Kline stuck her fingers in Coxon’s droopy jowls and squeezed. ‘If I thought you were having dirty thoughts about me I’d cut your dick off and stuff it in your mouth.’
‘Hey! Tell her who I am, Michael.’
‘This is Mr Coxon, Tallie.’
Even though his sweat was coating her hand in an oily gel she didn’t let go of the folds of neck fat. ‘I don’t give a shit who you are, but let me tell you who I am. I’m Detective Constable Tallie Kline, so any thoughts you might have about me you’d better lock them away out of sight – understood?’
‘I don’t . . .’
She squeezed harder. ‘Understood?’
‘I understand,’ he managed to force out through his constricted windpipe.
She let go and wiped her hand on his expensive silk shirt. ‘Good. So, what’s the plan?’
‘I’ve decided . . .’ Coxon began.
Kline’s lip curled up. ‘Who put you in charge?’
‘This is my apartment and my father . . .’
‘Bollocks. Have you any qualifications in leading people?’
‘Well, I went to Eton and played a spot of . . .’
‘The answer’s no then. Do you have any military experience?’
‘I don’t see . . .’
‘You’re a jumped up prick. People like you like nothing better than sending the working-class to their deaths. From now on, Michael’s in charge.’
‘You can’t . . .’
‘I just did, so shut the fuck up.’ She pushed him out of the way, he fell backwards over a chair and went sprawling on the floor. ‘Well, Michael, what’s the plan?’
Michael surveyed the people that had gathered in the apartment. ‘My own mother was one of them and I just killed her,’ he began. ‘Some of you have wives, brothers, sisters, parents and children on the other side. Inside those creatures your kin are still alive. My mother spoke to me before she died, but it was either her or me. Some of you might believe I should have sacrificed myself, but what we’ve got here is a lot bigger than individual sacrifice.’
Kline squeezed his arm. She had guessed right – he was a natural leader.
‘I believe that this is one more ba
ttle in the age-old war of good against evil. Most of you have seen the creatures we’re up against and know what’s been happening. Evil is trying to get a foothold in the world through our building and it’s using our kin to do it. If we’re afraid to kill the people we care about, as evil thinks we are, then evil will win. We’re the first line of defence. We have to do what’s right even though it might seem wrong. Are you with me?’
People glanced at each other, rung their hands and bit their lips, but nobody said anything.
‘I was expecting a blood-curdling response,’ he said.
There was a smattering of laughter.
A bald man in his fifties put his hand up. ‘Can we ask a couple of questions?’
‘Of course.’
‘You’re expecting us to kill people?’
‘Yes.’ He turned to look at Kline. ‘I think most of you know Detective Constable Tallie Kline now . . .’
‘Fucking bitch,’ Coxon mumbled.
‘She and I went down to the basements. That’s where they’re holed up. We were lucky to get out of there alive. If I hadn’t killed my mother . . . Anyway, they’re not going to listen to reason. They don’t care if you’re their husband, wife, child or parent. If you don’t kill them, then they’ll kill you – it’s that simple. They won’t surrender, and if you try to surrender they’ll kill you without a moment’s hesitation. There are no rules of war – it’s kill or be killed.’
A woman said through her tears, ‘I don’t know if I can kill my own daughter.’
‘Sarah Swindells,’ Michael said. ‘You know me – I’ve helped you up with your shopping a couple of times. You know I wouldn’t lie to you. If you don’t kill your daughter, then she’ll kill you, the people standing next to you, the people behind you, and she’ll keep killing until someone stops her. You can’t afford to think of these creatures as your kin – they’re not – they’re the enemy.’
A younger man with an unruly mass of ginger hair and freckles said, ‘We’re not going to be arrested when this is all over, are we?’
‘Hiya, Mally,’ Michael said. ‘You all know Mally Haynes from the twenty-ninth floor?’
People nodded.
‘I’ll be surprised if there’s going to be many of us left standing after this, Mally. I don’t pretend to know why this is happening here and now, or who’s behind it all . . . except maybe the Satan. I just know right from wrong. My mom taught me that, and I’d be doing her a disservice if I didn’t fight for what was right. Letting the forces of darkness take over our building can’t be right, so we have to stop them – it’s that simple. Are you with me now?’
There was no blood-curdling response, but the gathering agreed to follow Michael’s lead.
‘How do you kill them?’ a teenage girl with a ponytail and goofy teeth asked.
‘Kitty Wall, people,’ Michael said, pointing to her.
Kitty’s face turned a bright red.
‘Where’s your mum and dad, Kitty?’
‘They got taken.’
‘Sorry to hear that. As I said, I killed my mum by sticking an iron bar through her chest. Whether that’s the only way . . . He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. What I can tell you, and Detective Kline will back me up on this, is that knocking them unconscious ain’t going to work. Two of them followed us, and we had to beat them back. Even though we pummelled them good and proper, it didn’t make no difference. They pulled back, but they didn’t stop. What I think, is that you have to stab them in the heart, or chop their heads off.’
‘That’s a bit gruesome,’ a short fat man said.
Michael’s brow creased. ‘It’s a lot gruesome . . .’
‘Mick Pendleton,’ the man said. ‘Me and the Missus haven’t long moved in.’
‘Well, Mick. I’m sure that once we start killing the enemy, people will find other . . . probably less gruesome and more efficient ways of stopping them, but that’s all I’ve got for now.’
He nodded. ‘Thanks.’
There didn’t seem to be any more questions.
‘Okay, unless someone has got a brilliant plan up their sleeve, this is what I suggest . . .’ He looked around. Nobody spoke up. Even Ken Coxon said nothing. ‘The stairs and the lifts are controlled by the enemy, which is a problem because they can get behind us at any time, but we have the maintenance shaft and the access panels. I need two people to force the lift doors open. If we can’t . . .
‘I have a key,’ Coxon said.
‘And you’ve just thought to tell us?’ Kline turned on him.
He didn’t respond.
Kline held her hand open.
Coxon gave her the key.
‘I’ll lock the lifts off,’ she said.
‘Good. If we can’t use them, then neither can the enemy now. We need to start from here and work our way down. I suggest two teams leapfrogging each other. Every flat and every room is to be cleared . . .’
A woman in her thirties with wild eyes said, ‘Lesley Connor from the third floor. What if there are people holed up in the flats?’
‘Bring them along. If you leave them, then they can be used by the enemy to attack us from behind. The task will be hard enough without having to keep looking over our shoulders.’
The woman nodded.
‘I’ll lead one team and Kline can lead the other. We can accumulate weapons as we go. Are there any more questions?’
Nobody had any.
‘Okay, before we start, just remember . . . if you hesitate you’ll be killed. Work in pairs, and look after each other. This is a war. There are no winners or losers, only survivors. Make sure you’re a survivor.’
The available people were split into two teams of twenty-three, ferried out of the penthouse apartment and up the stack of furniture into the maintenance shaft. Michael and his team would take the even floors, and Kline’s team the odd.
‘Good luck, Michael,’ Kline said.
‘In the movies, the hero gets a kiss from the woman he loves before he goes into battle.’
She smiled as she hauled herself up into the shaft again. ‘Yeah, I read that somewhere as well.’
***
Naamah used one of the two lifts to get down to the lower basement.
‘So the lift does work?’
‘It works when I say it works.’
‘Of course.’ He wished he had a pair of trousers, shorts or a loincloth on. Striding around with his phallus knocking on his thighs for all to see was not ideal. He hoped he didn’t come across Kline – that would just be awful. How could an Inspector maintain discipline if his subordinate saw him naked? Also, if he bent over, which he hoped not to do anytime soon, the people behind him had an unrestricted view of his tonsils.
The lift doors opened and the chanting began.
‘Naamah, Naamah, Naamah.’
She walked among them like a messiah. ‘Are you prepared?’
‘Yes, Naamah.’
‘They want to close my gate – what do we say to that?’
‘No.’
‘They want to kill us all – what do we say to that?’
‘No.’
‘They want to confine us to Hell – what do we say to that?’
‘No.’
Quigg was getting bored. He looked around the gathering, but he couldn’t see any nymphs. Where had Naamah hidden the nymphs? A couple of nymphs would be very welcome about now. All this talk of fighting and killing was not what a healthy satyr wanted to hear.
Was he still Quigg? He guessed he wasn’t. He smiled as he imagined bounding into the station as he was. Would they recognise him?
‘So, showing your true nature at last, Quigg,’ the Chief would say.
Mandy’s eyes would nearly pop from her head. ‘Spector Quigg. Is that what you used to get all those women preggers?’
No, he could never go back to being DI Quigg looking like he did – the Met didn’t employ satyrs. He was Naamah’s plaything now. Well, he only had himself to blame. Having sex with every woman wh
o fluttered their eyelashes at him – he was a satyr.
It looked like Naamah’s soldiers were leaving.
‘Where are they going?’ he asked.
‘To fight for me. The enemy are coming.’
He looked around. ‘You mentioned a gate?’
‘There are seven gates that provide entry and exit to Hell. I am the guardian of the seventh gate.’
‘And that’s here?’
She walked towards the rear of the basement. A three-headed dog snarled at him.
‘This is Cerberus, my faithful hellhound.’ She pointed to a pair of solid gold gates behind the monstrous dog. ‘Those are my gates.’
‘Your gates?’
‘Well, not mine exactly – they belong to Lucifer, but they’re mine to guard for him.’
The gates were engraved with beasts, monsters, etc. Over the top of the gates was an inscription:
All hope abandon, ye who enter here.
‘It doesn’t sound very welcoming.’
‘That’s because it’s Hell.’
‘I guess. So, we’re not allowed to have any fun in Hell?’
‘Fun? You mean sex?’
‘That’s part of it, I suppose.’
‘You’ve been condemned to Hell because of all the sex you’ve had on Earth. Your punishment is to never have sex again.’
He gulped. ‘I can’t have sex?’
‘Officially – no. All the other satyrs are sexless, but I felt sorry for you, so I’ve taken you under my wing.’
‘And I get to have sex with you?’
‘Lots of sex. There’s got to be some perks to the job.’
‘I see. I’m a perk?’
‘Or you could join the other satyrs?’
‘No! I’m very grateful for your patronage.’
‘And you’ll be showing me how grateful soon.
***
‘Wake up, Sir.’