by Sean Davies
The Spidercar chirped happily, sending spouts of steam from its brassy joints.
"Olex will see you safely to the nasty Demon tower,” The Mayor continued, "and back if you make it out alive. I do hope you do make it out of there okay my boy, if you're dead you can't bring me more yummy treats!"
"Thank you, Mr. Mayor." Winston carefully made his way to the side of Olex where a crude step allowed for entrance into the open topped, four-seated passenger compartment. He made himself as comfy as possible on the squidgy old seats.
"Good luck my boy," The Mayor cried after him as Olex made its way down the street.
Winston watched the Freaks of the Gloom Capital go about their business as he was ferried to his destination. Now that they weren't so interested in eating him alive, the city didn't seem that different from the one in the real world. It was surprisingly easy to associate normality with the place if he didn't focus on it too much. He almost allowed himself to fall into a false sense of security when they arrived at the circular road that lead around the tower. Olex whimpered and wouldn't go any further so Winston got off and thanked him. The Spidercar chirped a nervous yet pleased sound and waited for his return like a loyal pet.
If the tower looked threatening from a distance, being up close to it certainly did not help. The thing seeped an aura of malice and oppression, and the air was thick and heavy. Winston felt as if a thousand eyes were watching him, their weight pushing down upon his shoulders. He crossed the deserted road and slowly began his assent up the steps that would lead to the plaza that the dreadful building it was situated on. He reached the top and was confronted with a large path that lead to the seemingly unguarded entrance. Tall statues of horrific humanoids tearing their own flesh off were placed evenly along it, and off the path there were gardens of blackened grass and fountains pumping out the black bile that was Gloom water. Winston knew that in the real world these would have been dignified statues of the heroes from the Great War and very well kept gardens.
"Hey." A voice spoke from behind one of the statues.
Winston went for his gun and flicked the lid of his lighter but the speaker walked out onto the path with one hand in the air, the other holding a medium-sized black briefcase. He was a scrawny looking blond man with pale skin, and by the looks of it he was in his early twenties like Winston. His hair was slicked back, also similar to his own except Winston's was jet black. His eyes were light blue and filled with a confidence that overcompensated for his stature – Winston's were dark green and probably filled with fear and doubt at this point. He was dressed smartly yet practically, all in black with various straps and compartments fastened to himself including a couple of holsters, wearing trousers covered in pockets but not enough to restrict movement. Over the top he wore a long black fabric coat with many pockets and fine silver markings woven neatly around the edges. It was these markings that lead Winston to focus more on the briefcase he carried, for it too had a fine silver marking barely visible on the black leather; it was an equilateral triangle divided into equal parts by three lines going from each corner into its centre. It was the sign of the Trinity of Old, the oldest living Supernaturals and the governing body of the Supernatural society. Or at least it was before the Great War. The gangs now had more power than they could control, but the Trinity possessed a weapon that all Supernaturals feared, which in turn made the Trinity feared.
“Hey, I don't want trouble. I just want to talk." Even his voice carried an air of confidence with it.
"You're with the Trinity, right?” Winston asked, taking his hand off neither lighter nor pistol.
"Unfortunately I am, but I don't want to be. That’s why I've been waiting for someone from the Shadow Circle to arrive. That was your man up there, right? I tried dealing with him but he was already up there and dead before I got here. Figured if I kept coming here and waiting by the entrance they'd send another one of you."
"I'm not with the Circle. Not yet anyway. This is like my audition for the job."
"Fuck." He lowered his hands and walked casually towards Winston. "Well, I'm going to help you get whatever's at the top of that tower, and after you can tell your boss all about what a fine asset I'd be to the Circle." He reached into his pocket which made Winston flinch, but it was just a contact card. "Chill out. If I wanted to kill you I could've done it quite easily when you were eyeballing those statues. The names Lewis Thorne, by the way."
"I'm Winston Reynolds." He pocketed the lighter and contact card, holstered his pistol and shook Lewis' hand. "So why do you want to leave the Trinity?"
"Because they're a bunch of miserable old fogies who want to spend all their time sitting underground in their tunnels and chambers. When I became a Book Wielder a year or so back I thought I'd been recruited by the leaders of the Supernaturals, not a bunch of boring old has-beens desperately clutching to what little power they have, trying to convince the gangs to hide underground with them. It's pathetic. The Shadow Circle's the most influential gang in The Capital and on the continent, and when we make it out of this shit hole they’re going to have two Book Wielders in their arsenal!”
“Yeah, I'd heard that about the Trinity. I'm definitely lucky to have the opportunity to impress the Circle, but there's Demons in that tower. They killed one Book Wielder easily enough, how can you be so confident that we can succeed where he failed?"
"Because we came prepared for the job!" Lewis kneeled on the floor, opened his briefcase, and pulled out four 9mm pistol clips. "Two for you and two for me. Sanctium filled rounds, the only thing that keeps the Trinity in the loop these days. Supernaturals, Freaks, and Demons beware." He pulled his own pistol out and loaded it.
Winston looked closely at the clip. It looked normal enough, but a radiant blue light glowed from within. He emptied his regular clip from his pistol and replaced it with the Sanctium clip. "Is it true the Trinity managed to retrieve the alchemical formula for Sanctium from the Witch Hunters before they were destroyed?"
"I don't know. They say they have it but they only let their oldest, most trusted members in on the secrets. Just one of the many reasons I want to jump ship. I have my own theories about the matter but they’re a work in progress. Anyway, where abouts is your book?"
"Top Floor of the Hotel Noir."
"Fuck me, you've got a long way to go after this is over. You’re going to be knackered and holding an artefact all the way through Freaks-ville." Lewis opened one of his pouches and pulled out a vial of clear liquid marked 'NRG'. "It's an energy potion, self-brewed. Should do the job, though I don't know how you're going to manage handling that artefact all the way back. I'd help out but I've already been here way too long waiting to see if someone would show, and my book is only over the road from here."
"Thanks, for this and for everything else, but I've got a deal with the Mayor for safe passage and he gave me a Spidercar in exchange for some chocolate. That's what I eat instead of energy potions. Haven’t been able to get much potion brewing experience living at home with my parents."
"Chocolate, that's good thinking. I made the mistake of drinking the water here on my first visit; tasted like death." He shuddered as if the memory was painful. "Wait – how do you know if a Freak is a Mayor or not, and how did you hammer out such a good deal?"
"Well, he introduced himself as the Mayor. Plus his guards were shouting it at the other Freaks. I gave him a big sack of fruit like the normal tradition for safe passage and we just talked. When he took my chocolate and ate it he acted like he'd done some powerful drugs, and then he introduced me to the Spidercar, Olex." Winston thought it sounded pretty simple but Lewis was looking at him as if he was insane.
"You speak Freak?! You know names?! No one speaks Freak, they all just sound like they're talking gibberish!"
Winston looked confused. "I've always been able to understand them, though before today it was never conversation. Just death threats and murderous rants. I usually cross over in low populated areas, you
see. Maybe my book taught it to me?"
"Hmm, could've done. It’s the only explanation I can think of. Must have a good future for you if it's bestowed such a gift of knowledge. Hope it's taught you how to fight well too. I don't bother bringing fruit anymore, Freaks generally don't bother me unless I bother them first. I must have spent so much time here they see me as a part of the mangled furniture," he laughed, although Winston was sure he could detect a hint of nervousness in it.
"That's good I guess. Well, shall we get this over with?"
"Sure. The Demons we come across in the lower levels will probably only be lesser grunts to whatever's up top so I'd keep those Sanctium rounds until we get there. I see from your lighter you've learned the trick about natural forces in the Gloom as opposed to magical ones." He pulled a stun gun from one of his holsters. "I'm a fan of electricity myself. Combined with your fire we should be able to clear the trash quite easily."
"Let's hope so," Winston said doubtfully.
The two Book Wielders walked in silence until they came closer to the entrance. It was a large metal double door engraved with writhing humans and feasting demons.
"Feel like knocking, or shall we just blow the fucker to bits?" Lewis asked jokingly.
"Let's take it out. They’ll be on us as soon as we're inside anyway." Winston held his free hand up in the direction of the door.
"Knew you had it in you,” Lewis laughed. “We’ll make a weapon of mass magical destruction out of you yet.” He holstered his stun gun and raised his hand towards the repulsive door.
Bright blue concentric circles appeared just in front of the Book Wielders' hands. Glowing blue runes and elegant flowing script wove themselves within the lines, and the air rippled as the raw magical energy increased in intensity. With a recoil that sent their arms shooting back, two powerful bolts of pure magical force were sent hurling into the double doors. The bolts exploded in a pale blue blast that forced the doors inwards at an absurd speed and shattered the surrounding stone blocks, sending dust and small fragments in all directions. Winston was right about his suit; the trip was going to ruin it.
Inhuman screeches and growls sounded from within. In a matter of seconds, the first Demons charged through the hole. They were horrid man-sized creatures with purple and pink muscular bodies that looked like someone had skinned them alive. Their faces were scrunched up in expressions of pure rage and hatred, saliva dripping from their long razor sharp teeth. Their eyes were triangular slits of glowing red, and instead of forearms they had huge bone scythes that made them look like a cross between man and praying mantis.
Winston automatically struck his lighter and manipulated the fire into a torrent of flame that doused the maniacal creatures, while Lewis quickly did the same with the electricity from his stun gun, shooting forks of lightning into the fray. Almost as soon as the Demon's charge had begun, the fight was over. Their charred forms littered the entrance, though they still twitched with life.
"I was right," Lewis began, "the real competition is going to be upstairs."
Winston eyed the convulsing bodies. "They look like they’re still alive."
"Oh, they are. Takes a lot more than that to kill a Demon, and they'll heal up quick unless we're careful." He pulled a switch blade from his pocket. The small enchanted knife grew until it was a thin slither of evil looking metal about a meter long, and remorselessly began to slice the limbs and heads off the Demons. "One good thing about working for the Trinity – they have such fun toys to play with."
The bodies, limbs and heads still quivered with life. "Even that doesn't seem to be working, Lewis."
Lewis retracted the blade. “Didn’t say it would, but it will stop them from getting back up in a hurry.” He kicked a few severed parts away from their respective owners and casually made for the entrance. “Come on, we better be quick about this."
Winston followed him, carefully avoiding the grotesque array of Demon bits and pieces that adorned his path.
The inside of the tower was a large square clearing, and braziers blazed with fire painting the stonework a sinister shade of orange and red. The ceiling was so high it was shielded in shadows, and barred windows lined the room in between broken statues. In the centre of the room was a circular platform emblazoned with a green pentagram and smaller magical runes. Scorch marks, bullet holes, and debris were all over the place, showing the signs of a massive fire fight preceding the damage that Winston and Lewis had caused. Strangely enough, the room appeared to be healing; if focused on clearly enough, the damage seemed to be repairing itself. Bullets were being pushed out of their holes millimetres at a time, bits of statue and dust were crawling towards their origin points at a snail’s pace – even the dented double doors seemed to be slowly slithering back towards the entrance.
Winston viewed the damage with awe. "Looks like the place is still ruined from the last Book Wielder. It must have been one hell of a fight”
“You said it,’ Lewis agreed. “This will work out very well for us. Those mongrels we fought out front must have been freshly healed. We might have had a bit more of a fight on our hands if they were at the same strength that they were when your predecessor got here."
"Let's hope the rest of the place is this devastated."
"There's only one way to find out." Lewis gestured towards the platform. "Magical elevator, I'm guessing."
The Book Wielders walked towards the platform and stepped onto it. The magical engravings flared momentarily and two green triangles appeared in the air, one pointing up and one pointing down.
"Fancy checking out the basement?" Lewis joked.
Winston tapped the triangle for up. "No, I certainly do not. How is it you can joke at a time like this?" he asked, as the platform rose slowly and silently into the air.
Lewis shrugged. "We're in a dangerous line of work. Could die here in the Gloom or in a gang fight back in the real. If we die, we die. Beats living a life of mundane bullshit, working shit jobs to pay for shitty bills and scraping enough together for a treat every month or two. At least we can say we've lived a little, we've played with magical powers, we’ve seen the world that hides behind the world – we’ve even seen a totally different world!"
Winston found himself confused at how much he agreed with what Lewis had just said. "True, but I'd prefer not to die at all. Well, not for a long while anyway.”
“Same, but how is being all stuck up, reserved, stressed out, and scared shitless going to increase your lifespan? As long as you as you keep your wits about you and stay careful you don't need the other useless baggage."
Again, Winston couldn’t fault Lewis’ logic, or at least think of a plausible argument, so he just stayed silent as the elevator took them through a hole of orangey-red light in the sea of black that was the ceiling.
The second floor was like the first in terms of unpleasant fiery lighting and rusty iron barred windows, but the rest of the interior looked like the result of a pyromaniac visiting a big square library. The burnt out remains of tall bookshelves lined the room, and the floor was covered in black and grey ashes. Just like with the first floor the damage was receding at an immensely slow pace, but the sheer scale of the destruction was so great it would probably take years for the library to heal.
Staggering, slithering, and sliding in between the charred bookshelves were disgusting half-formed Demon acolytes. They looked like skeletal black robed humans, robbed of a limb or two in some cases, and doused in boiling tar. Except in this case, the tar that they were pooled in seemed to be their essence trying to slowly reform them. They moaned and cried out with anguished voices. One of them raised a hand and tried to send some sort of spell towards the Book Wielders but only a few sparks flew from its gnarled fingertips, and they fell to the ground in front of it like a flutter of fireflies.
"Aww, how cute," Lewis sniggered. "I think they want to be friends."
"Let's just do this."
"Allow me, mister seri
ous." Lewis invoked the same raw destruction spell that they had used against the front of the building, and directed the bolt to the centre of the conglomeration of foetal Demons.
The bolt hit home, and the acolytes flew apart in a shower of sticky black liquid and entrails that covered the room and the Book Wielders.
Lewis laughed as he tried brushing some of the gloop off his face and outfit. "Hope that's not your best suit."
Winston just grumbled as he wiped himself down the best he could and tapped the up symbol again.
"I think this will be the top floor." Lewis got out his gun and made sure it was loaded correctly. "Be ready for anything.”
“Right.” Winston also checked his gun and brought to mind some defensive spells that his book had taught him.
The elevator brought them into what looked like a tyrant’s throne room. Pillars rose to the low ceiling sporting long elegant blood red banners, and in-between were large arched windows covered with spiky metal grating. Torches burned with the same unpleasant flames of the other floors, and directly ahead of them were stone steps leading to a Demon Overlord sitting on a marble throne.
The Demon Overlord wore a full masquerade mask of black, white, and woven gold with a calm expression crafted onto it. His entire body was covered in a crimson cloak, except for one human-like dark purple hand that cradled a crystal chalice filled with coagulated human blood. Behind the Demon was the source; what was left of Winston's predecessor was hanging from the ceiling by barbed wire wrapped around his legs. His head, arms, and skin had been removed.
The Demon Overlord calmly drained his glass and spoke with a snobbish drawl. "More refreshments come to visit?"
"How about fuck you?" Lewis shouted.
The Overlord threw his chalice to the floor, shattering it into a thousand pieces. He chuckled behind his mask and slowly rose from his throne. Winston immediately launched a fireball from his lighter that set its crimson cloak aflame, just as Lewis sent bolts of electricity from his stun gun straight into its face, blasting the mask into pieces and revealing an all too human face beneath.