Clinging to Mr. Benny, I endure his sizzle and burn as electrical charges course through his body and rush into mine. We tumble through space, through time, through nothing. The void makes me sick. No matter how much I want to pull my hands away from the freakshow called Mr. Benny, I cling to him, bearing the pain. I have to. He doesn’t get to live to fight another day. This is his end.
Everything around us glows red because of the Portable device he holds. I glare at his electrically charged face, trying to judge his weakness against mine. When we stop zipping through space, who will prevail?
Emptiness. Flying. Falling.
My agony has a pecking order now—pain takes second place to the lack of air. I’m choking in a vacuum, tumbling through a void while cleaving to pure energy. With a concentrated effort, I force a breath, then another. Sweet oxygen fills my lungs, letting me focus, once again, on the pain.
Thousands of pins prick at my flesh, as if my entire body has drifted off into an hypnotic sleep, frozen in an unnatural position, and is now waking up. Far from painful, it’s as uncomfortable as hell.
Sounds scurry through the emptiness—shrieks, cries, whispers. The stench of sulfur in the air, like rotten eggs, makes me gag. Still, I cling to the electric frame of this thing called Mr. Benny. The atmosphere is thick as syrup. Breathing is now a laborious task, like sucking life sustaining oxygen through a straw.
Landing. Crashing. The Abyss.
The electric sizzle of Mr. Benny finally sputters out. The smell, however, lingers on. My hands are at last free. I’m lying on a rocky surface, in a dank cave, reminding me of the dark security office at the Las Vegas Arena.
“That’s the way I like it,” Mr. Benny shouts, “black as night—crawlin’ with shadows.”
“You can read my mind? Can everybody read my mind?”
“Pretty much. You just a stupid human.”
“Where the hell is this place?”
“Hell? You wish. This is the place humans tell their young-uns ‘bout to keep ‘em on the straight and narrow. Believe me, Hell would be a vacation compared to this here place.”
Whispers and shrieks continue, echoing through the cavern. I glance around but can’t see a thing. With a sudden need, I make it to my feet, bend over, and vomit.
“Ha,” Mr. Benny says with a chortle, “you get use to the stink, you’ll see. You sure got a powerful grip, young fella.”
I spit then wipe my mouth with my sleeve. “I didn’t know the ride would be so…dicey.”
“Why you think I drink so much?” He ponders the ruby red device in his hand. “I can’t stand the commute, but it gets me ‘round. ‘Sides, after a while I start to feel myself again. You will, too. You’ll see.”
As my eyes adjust to the light, the bent and broken body of the old man in front of me changes form. He’s no longer elderly—no longer has a limp. Gone are the spectacles as well. He sports a dazzling smile. I still recognize the putrid characteristics of Mr. Benny, but now he’s a little taller, a little younger.
“Better lookin’, too, I bet.” He turns away, picking a path across the uneven ground. “Follow me.”
I glance around, surveying the empty cave. “Where’re you going?”
“Well I won’t stay here all day, that’s for certain. You better hurry up and follow.” He waits a second or two, then shrugs. “Suit yourself. But look, you’re out of your element here, so make up your mind, follow me and live, or stay put and die.”
I check my ear for the ComLink.
“It ain’t there,” he says. “That thing popped out of your head when you jumped over my desk—pretty stupid if you ask me. Anyway, that earbud thing won’t do you no good. Guides aren’t allowed down here.”
“Down where?”
He cackles. “The Abyss.”
“Where is she then? Where’s Samantha?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout her none. You’re better off on your own, the way that woman bossed you ‘round.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He raises his voice, doing his best to mimic Samantha, “Oh, Brooksy, you watch out for Mr. Benny. Oh Brooksy, be careful ‘round him.” He spits on the ground and stares me dead in the eye. “Shit, that woman might as well’ve been your mammy.” He chortles again. “What the hell you doing here anyway? Why’d you cling onto me like a tic on a hound dog?”
“What do you think I’m doing here? You planted a bomb in the arena and killed twenty-thousand people. You started the apocalypse—eight different times. I’m here to make sure you never do it again.”
“You tellin’ me you meant to come here? Are you insane? Tell me something, young fella, have you been kicked in the head by a mule, or were you just born stupid?”
He turns, shakes his head, and saunters away. I follow at a distance.
The fetid odor and dank surroundings take their toll on my state of mind. I question my hasty decision to chase Mr. Benny here. After all, I’d found the bomb which led to the apocalypse, and wasn’t that enough?
“Ha,” Mr. Benny shouts over his shoulder, “this is where that guide of yours would say something like—oh, Brooksy, you did the right thing.”
His sarcastic imitation hits me hard. That’s exactly what Samantha would have said. I miss her. “Where’re you going?”
“Stupid question. We can’t stay here.”
“Why not? Where are we?”
An ear-piercing scream echoes through the cave. The rock walls shudder. I put my hands over my ears and fall to my knees.
“That’s something you don’t wanna do.” Mr. Benny puts a hand under my arm, helps me up, and pushes me forward. “You better pick up the pace or we both gonna get fried.”
“What the hell is that sound?”
Mr. Benny hustles me forward, yelling above the noise, “Orcs, Acheri, Dhampirs —you name it, we got ‘em all down here.” He tightens his grip. “Better pick up the pace, Brooksy, most of ‘em got long, nasty choppers—bite you in half.”
The rocky ground is squishy and slippery, as if covered in moss. I rely on Mr. Benny to lead me away from the creatures. After a few minutes, the screams fade away. “Why are you helping me?”
He releases his grip on my elbow and pauses to regain his breath. The shrieks and screeches are still there, but they sound miles away. “I sure do wish I had a drink.”
“Why are you helping me?” I ask again, staring into his dead eyes. “You’re a Nefarist.”
“Yep,” he says. “But that don’t matter no more. You see, I won. You did your best to stop me, but you failed…again and again and again—”
“What do you mean, you won?”
He winks at me and produces a brilliant smile. “C’mon, follow me.” He turns and continues navigating through the rancid cavern. “I know a shortcut up ahead.”
I had enough of this arrogant son of a bitch. After four quick steps, I grab hold of his throat. He grunts and falls to his knees. I squeeze hard. His skin compresses under my grasp. His gurgling echoes off the walls of the chamber, mixing with the distant squeals and shrieks. I release my grip. “What do you mean, you’ve won?”
Mr. Benny gags and falls forward, face first onto the rocky ground. I roll him over onto his back.
His eyes pop open. With a mammoth chuckle, he sits up. “Now just what in the hell you trying to do? Hurt me? Trying to make me talk?” He stands up, waving his arms in the air. “Kill me? Ha, that’s a hoot. Now, I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt because I don’t think you’ve ever been here before. This is The Abyss, son. You’re in my house now.” The howls of the creatures grow louder. “It’s a good thing for you I like you.”
He hits me in the face, sending me down to the ground. My right eye swells and shuts tight. Throbbing pain pulses through my head.
Hooves and footsteps pound out a beat on the rocky surface of the cave.
“Them creatures gonna be here any second. Now, I can either turn ‘round and walk away, or help you up. If I don’t help y
ou up, what do you think is gonna happen to you?”
He kicks me in the ribs. The sharp sting of cracked bones force me to cry out. His question is rhetorical. If he doesn’t help me up, I’ll never stand again.
“Man, you look beat.” He howls at his pun.
The suffocating stench of feral animals fills my nose. A hundred different sounds cry out. The noise of flying creatures, their huge wings beating the air, saturates the cave.
“Those beasts can smell your flesh. You’re a delicacy, you know—fresh human. So, what’s it gonna be, young fella?” He stomps on my left hand, breaking every finger.
Teeth, eyes, fur and wings emerge from the darkness as beasts, some recognizable, most just a blur of raging violence charge full speed ahead.
I shut my eyes and breathe a one-word prayer, “God.”
XXV
“Be gone.”
The only evidence of the screams, shrieks, howls and roars once filling the cave are faint echoes drowned by the sound of trickling water somewhere in the darkness. My ears still ring with their noise as my heart double thumps at their memory. With considerable effort, and not a little apprehension, I raise my head and glance about. Silence covers the cave.
Mr. Benny stands over me, his right hand held up like a policeman stopping oncoming traffic. He grins. “Not bad, if I do say so myself.”
I sit up. The chamber is empty except for me and my tormentor.
With a chuckle, Mr. Benny says, “Now hear me good—you ain’t shit ‘round here, Brooksy. I could’ve let that pack of wild things rip you apart, but like I say, I took a shine to you. You show a certain kind a grit—reminds me of me. Now, the sooner you accept the fact I won and you lost, the better.” He lowers his hand to me. “C’mon, up you go.”
I ignore his help and struggle to stand under my own power. It takes a few moments, but I get it done. “What do you mean, you won?” I’m in agony, and the words come out hard.
“Now Brooksy, just let it go. What does it matter anymore? Come to think of it, what does anything matter anymore?”
I’m panting, taking short, burning gasps instead of breaths. “It matters to me. What do you mean, you won?”
His expression turns dark. In a sing-song voice, he mocks me. “What do you mean, you won? What do you mean, you won?” He glares and leans in to me. “It means I won, got it? You found the bomb I buried in that arena, well bully for you. But guess what, I got another surprise in store for that crowd tonight. What do you call it in your line of work? Oh yeah, a back-up plan—my Plan B. You always gotta have a Plan B, ain’t that right?”
I want to rip his head off, instead I whisper, “In theory.”
“Well, that ain’t gonna happen, young fella—rip my head off, that is. You know why?” He shouts, “’Cause I won, that’s why. Listen to me real good… I’m bigger than you, stronger than you, and smarter than you. You got no chance against me, so shut up and just follow me outta this cave if you want to stay in one piece.”
I force a breath. “But all those people in the arena—”
“Boo-hoo. Too bad, so sad. Listen Brooksy, forget about them, you got bigger problems. You down here with me, and your girlfriend—oops, sorry, your guide—done floated back to After World. Soon, all them folks in that arena are gonna join her. You’re alive because of me, and you’ll stay alive because of me. As soon as I get tired of you…” He cups a hand around his ear and a faint screech echoes through the humid chamber. “Heh-heh, now that’s what I call perfect timing. That pack of creatures back there, they’re always hungry, and guess who’s the catch of the day?”
While he rambles on, I work on the puzzle of how to take him down. Everybody has a weakness. Mine appears to be impatience. After all, without thinking about the consequences, I had latched on to him and been dragged down here—mistake number one. Then I tried to choke him out—second mistake. If I had succeeded in killing him, the creatures would have surely ended me. It’s time to take a breath, take my time, and solve the problem.
“How astute, little man. You like that word? Astute. It means, uh…wise, clever. Yes, I can see where you’d think of me as a problem instead of your only hope. But listen to me and listen real good. You ain’t got no hope, not no more, not down here.”
Shit. I forgot to block my thoughts. I start reciting the multiplication tables in my head. If it kept Sebastian and Samantha at bay, it’s worth a shot against Mr. Benny. Two times two is four, two times three is six, two times four is eight…
Mr. Benny wraps an arm around my waist and leads me toward a distant light. “Up ahead is our way out of this shitty little cave,” he says. “Wait till you see The Abyss, I mean the real Abyss, not this piss hole we’re in. Just outside this cave are the Gates of Hell. Now that’s a sight you ain’t never gonna forget. I’ll show you the Lake of Fire, the River Styx, and the workhouses. God, how I love the Workhouses. They’re my favorite—”
“Why are you telling me this?” I stumble over a rock and fall to my knees. On either side of us, gaseous clouds rise from fissures in the ground. Bubbling ooze splats against the ground, filling the air with the odor of a million rotten eggs.
“Whoops-a-daisy. Here you go,” he says holding a hand out to help me up. “Sorry about the rough stuff back there, but you were trying to kill me. Now, normally I’d put you down like a sick dog for that, but like I said, I took a shine to ya. Now Brooksy, you’ve seen a ton of shit in your life, but you ain’t never seen nothing like—”
“I don’t buy that “shine” bullshit. Why don’t you just kill me?”
He laughs. “Boy, if I had a nickel every time I heard that…”
I strain to make it back to my feet, experiencing the agony from every broken bone and damaged nerve in my body. “Tell me the truth.”
Mr. Benny stops smiling. His stare is cold, his voice flat, “After tonight, you’ll be the last human standing. That makes you valuable in this here Universe. And guess what? You belong to me, and that makes me a big deal.”
My skin shivers. “But…I’m not…I’m not standing here. This is just my soul. My body’s dead back on earth.”
He shakes his head in a slow, deliberate motion. “You really don’t understand how things work, do you? You didn’t die, you just latched on to me and I dragged you down here. You got no soul, son. You got no guide either, but you’re still human. The last one. And that makes you a thing worth owning.” He turns away and marches toward the light. I swear I hear him singing a faint and sickening tune,
“The last one, the last one,
I got the last one.
You can’t have him,
you can’t touch him.
The last one, the last one,
He’s all mine now.”
“You don’t own me.” My legs are weak—hell, my whole body’s weak, but I’m not about to let this thing know it. I draw in a deep breath and trudge alongside him, doing my best to match his gate, stride for stride. I continue reciting the multiplication tables and give him a sideways glance to see if he reacts to my lack of thoughts. He doesn’t.
“You see,” he continues, “I’ll find a way to profit off your sorry ass. Somebody’s gonna want you, just ‘cause you’re the last one. Hell, maybe even After World will take you back—for a price. Heads up, we almost there, son.”
“Where?”
“You sure you want to know?” He stops, turns, and takes a step back. “Hey, what’s going on in that head of yours? Are you having a stroke, or something? I can’t read you no more.”
I stop multiplying and let him in for a moment, thinking about the smell of sulfur.
“Those are sulfur pods. They shoot up out of the ground every few seconds. They sure do put up a stank, don’t they?” He turns around and continues his sick song.
“The last one, the last one,
I got the last one.
You can’t have—”
“Mr. Benny,” I shout raising my multiplication defense again, “I don’t k
now where we’re going. You’re obviously a lot stronger than I am, and, as you said, you won. So why don’t you just tell me about your Plan B.”
“What? Why?”
“I’d just like to know how you got the better of me, you know, what I missed. Call it professional curiosity.”
Like a sand crab racing to the sea, a huge grin crawls across his face. “Well now that’s the spirit, little man. You’re done, and you know it.” The grin expands. “I appreciate a man who calls a spade, a spade.”
I stumble forward, nearly tumbling down again. He leans over and reaches out to keep me from falling. Perfect. I push hard into him. With a shove to the right, I use what’s left of my strength to throw him off balance, landing him on his belly square on top of a sulfur pod. His scream is louder than any creature I’ve heard in The Abyss. He rolls off the shooting spray of hot steam. The stench of burning flesh fills my nose. He groans and stares at the smoldering wound across his midsection.
Caressing his stomach, he cries out, “I am done with you, boy—last human or not. You are dead. Dead.”
I can’t stand up, so I slither against him, grabbing hold of his leg. Lying on his side, he kicks at me, but misses the mark. I claw and grab my way next to him, finally landing a punch to his face. He yelps, his thrashing more erratic. His arms and legs flail about, trying to shake off his human attacker. I hit him repeatedly in the back of the head, feeling him weaken with each blow. He groans, launching a desperate attempt to free himself from my grasp.
He’s much stronger than I am, but I’ve got to keep him on the ground. We’re so close to a sulfur pod, the intense heat lights up the cave as it erupts. Hot sulfur splats on the rocks and splashes down on us like burning rain.
“You’re dead.” He thrusts his arm up over his head. Instead of bringing it down on my head, he opens his palm and screams, “Votha.” The thunder of a stampede shakes the ground. Shrieks fill the cave. “You’re dead,” Mr. Benny cries, “here they come.” He widens his pie hole and cackles.
That’s when I shove the bottle of Cyanilide into his mouth and break his jaw. I roll him onto his stomach, his face covering the sulfur pod. With both hands grabbing his hair, I drive his head down over the jagged hole. Still shouting and screaming, his words are muffled by a rising discharge of hot sulfur. My hands are on fire, his head vaporizing in a spray of steam. Mr. Benny is no more.
The Theory of Insanity Page 18