Demon Seeds_A Supernatural Horror Novel

by Tobias Wade

  “I wasn’t giving you a suggestion, private.”

  “You’re not Captain Ender.” It doesn’t sound like Jacques intended that as an insult, but the sullen ferocity on Dantes' face meant it must have stung like one. “He went charging on ahead in Azgangi because he wanted to keep everyone else safe and look where that got him.”

  Dantes' expression turns into something more like a grimace. “Fine. On one condition: once we’re in the water, my word is law.”

  “Hold on a minute—” Jordan protests.

  “We fight as a single unit. Always have,” Dantes cuts him off. “A single body. And you can’t have three brains telling one body different things to do or it will go mad. Ender understood that. You understood that while he was here. My job is to keep you safe, and your job is to complete the mission.”

  The wind and the rolling waves are the only thing to respond.

  “You’re not Captain Ender,” Jacques repeats at last. “You’re Captain Sosa, my Captain.”

  “Aye aye, Captain,” Jordan grunts, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Are you ready, kids?”

  “On three.” Dantes fits the goggles and mouthpiece and holds up three fingers. Jordan and Jacques sit on either side of him on the edge of their boat, stiff to attention, watching his countdown like hawks. All three have sections of the blue waterproof tarp wrapped securely around Jacques homemade explosives, their long hunting knives fastened among their gear. There isn’t room for Kathleen to sit beside them, so she waits beside Jessica, giving her a double thumbs-up. Eric’s the only one who doesn’t look excited as he huddles deeper into his jacket, drawing his already popped collar a little higher against the wind.

  Three. Two. One. Plop. Vanishing instantly under the steel water. A trail of bubbles and they’re gone. And the empty ocean and the great metal sky are so much bigger than they were a second ago. Kathleen hops in right behind them.

  “They never told us how long we’re supposed to wait,” Eric laments, the grumble as much directed at himself as it is at Jessica.

  “They didn’t need to,” Jessica replies through numb lips. “We’ll wait until the end of the world.”

  The thought that they wouldn’t have to wait long for that wasn’t the least bit reassuring.

  Eric can’t stop trembling. One foot taps an erratic rhythm on the floor of the boat. He’s burrowed as deep into his jacket as he can go, even though the cool wind has already died down.

  “You worried about her?” Jessica asks. The words feel so small and flat on the open water beneath the endless gray sky.

  “She’s not well in the head,” Eric grumbles. He picks at the faux fur lining and sends little fuzz balls soaring over the edge of the boat. “Maybe she really did see something, and maybe it’s the same thing you’re looking for, but I know Kathleen. She isn’t approaching this problem logically. It’s not like her.”

  “You wouldn’t be the same if you saw one of them either. Something like that changes you,” Jessica replies.

  Eric tears out a larger lump of fur, hurling it overboard in frustration. “I shouldn’t have let her go back down there without me. I just thought that if she saw me taking her wild accusations seriously I’d only be feeding into the delusion…” his words trail off into silence. “Shit. Maybe I’m just a coward. Maybe that’s the reason. Even you were ready to—sorry, I don’t mean to single you out. I’m just frustrated, that’s all.”

  “Do you love her?” Jessica asks. Eric’s foot stops tapping. She doesn’t mean anything by it—just an idle curiosity to pass the time and distract herself from whatever may be happening below the water. His foot starts up again, faster than ever, beating an erratic rhythm against the deck.

  “She deserves better,” he mumbles. He’s shaking worse than ever now, the internal beat spreading up from his leg. “I should be there with her. I should have trusted her when she said there was something down there, and I let her down.”

  Eric’s nervous energy overflows and propels him to his feet. He’s pacing the small deck now, spinning sharply every dozen steps.

  “It’s never too late to listen,” Jessica says in her most soothing voice. “When she comes back—”

  “If she comes back. If Henry doesn’t trap her down there or—”

  “Henry?” Jessica interrupts. Does the iron sky darken at the name, or is that just her imagination?”

  “Henry Wiggins. The old man we followed that she saw again under the water. I’ve mentioned him before—”

  Jessica’s fingers curl inside her sweatshirt, feeling leaden and numb. The boat rocks gently on the waves, but Jessica’s stomach churns with its own motion.

  “If you really care about Kathleen, then you must listen to me very carefully without panicking.” Jessica consciously forms the words one at a time as though carefully stacking a tower of fine china. “They have absolutely entered a trap. And we don’t have much time.”

  24

  An angry God stirs beneath the tranquil waters. The smooth surface gave no hint at the swirling eddies below, pushing and pulling the divers with a rhythm like a beating heart. Kathleen thrusts her arms behind her and dives directly down. Her flippers undulate with strong, practiced strokes, driving her unerringly toward the black lava rock below.

  Dantes pumps a fist, making a circle with his fingers. Jacques and Jordan respond instantaneously, quickening their pace to prevent Kathleen disappearing into the dark waters. The sunlight seems to dwindle above them at an unnaturally rapid pace, but the darkness doesn’t last long. The soft red glow intensifies by the second. It bleeds through cracks in the stone in a dozen places, heating the water into bubbling geysers. Schools of fish feast upon the swarming shrimp which flock to the vents, the marine life parting reluctantly to let the divers through.

  Kathleen is looking back over her shoulder more frequently as they approach a subtle stone archway embedded within a large vent. It looks as though it had once caved in, but a small hole has been cleared in the lava rock that looks barely large enough for a man to crawl through on his stomach.

  Dantes might have gone within a dozen feet of the arch and pass it unnoticed, but as they draw near he’s able to make out the clear human craftsmanship which once fitted the stones together. Clear craftsmanship anyway—the humanity of anything capable of constructing such a place at these depths is dubious at best.

  The water is thick with dissolved gasses which spew profusely from the arch, further heating the water to almost searing temperatures. Kathleen directs her flashlight within the hole, nodding emphatically. Dantes and his men circle closer, hesitating to enter. The scientist’s flashlight sweeps away from the vent along the dark lava rock which is solidifying as quickly as it seeps up through the unseen depths.

  Footprints. Bare feet had walked through the molten lava before it hardened to stone, exiting the archway. Large feet too—at least twice the size that would be expected, with deep imprints near the front where long nails must have dug into the stone. No hand signal is needed this time—the divers unanimously approach the hole, straining the limit of their feeble lights. It’s no good: the thick clouds of bubbles obscure vision.

  Jacques gestures to his tightly wrapped blue tarp, shining his own light through the arch. Dantes shakes his head, flagging the men to follow as he begins to crawl inside. Kathleen follows with purpose, propelling herself directly through the gaseous curtain to vanish after him. The heat continues to rise as the men follow her. Through the bubbles, the city of Marapoza reveals itself at last.

  “Motherfucker.” That’s what Jordan would have said if he wasn’t underwater. As it is, it sounds more like: “Mubblub-er.”

  The sprawling structures carved into the rock belie the isolated temple of Azgangi. Kathleen raises her arms reverently above her head as if to say behold the secret glory of the sea. A whole civilization must have lived here, with bustling trade down the wide stone streets and children chasing one another through the alleys. The construction seems
to indicate that the city was once dry, likely built underground as Azgangi had been. What had let the ocean in? Was it intentionally flooded to conceal an abandoned city, or had some volcanic disturbance broken through their barriers to drown the inhabitants?

  Dantes could picture it clearly—these terrified people cowering beneath the ground to escape The Beast. Perhaps they had been sleeping when the floodgates broke, awakening to the scream of their drowning neighbors. The boiling waters would be surging under their door, through their windows, trapping them so deep with no hope of escape. It could have been The Beast himself, crawling up from some infernal pit to cast the whole city into total darkness, isolating each citizen in their own personal hell as they were mired in the chaos of the dying.

  Jordan sails silently past Dantes, engrossed in the looming spectacle before them. Jacques is gesturing at the archway again, but Dantes shakes his head vehemently. This is no portal to another world. The fact that they’re still on Earth—that this is the length of desperation and defeat humanity was subjected to—burns as surely as the heated water. It’s almost over now though. As soon as they find the portal…

  Where has Kathleen gone? Dantes turns in a slow circle, his flashlight illuminating the haunting buildings which leer down at him from every side. He hadn’t seen her since she moved through the bubbles. Did she think they were still following her? Maybe the portal is inside one of the buildings and she…

  But no, there she is. Still floating just passed archway. She’s adjusting her mask—that must have been why she fell behind.

  Jordan and Jacques had allowed themselves to float deeper into the city to get a better look around. The seductive tug of the tide draws them farther with every pulse. The waters hadn’t been idle on Dantes either—he’s been pulled at least ten feet past the arch without even noticing. He pumps his legs hard, driving himself against the current back towards Kathleen.

  The woman pulls her hands away from her face, removing the mask entirely. She hadn’t been adjusting it at all; she’d been unfastening it. A second later and out goes her mouth piece. Dantes instinctively tries to shout an alarm, but the feeble grunt which emerges does nothing to alert his men. Kathleen rubs her eyes, opening them against the salt water. The black orbs glittering through the bubbles are the last thing Dantes sees.

  His flashlight flickers once before guttering out. It’s light disperses like ink in the water. He’s close to the arch. He can make it out before the light is gone. He can drive his hunting knife into that monster and put a stop to whatever trap he’d lead his men into. But that would mean leaving them behind, abandoning them to the unknown terrors dwelling in the dark. He should go back for them, rally them together to assault the demon in an organized attack. What would Ender do?

  Ender wouldn’t have hesitated to wonder. Dantes did. And in asking himself, he was already too late. The red glow of lava had been quenched, suspending them in a darkness so complete that Dantes can’t even see the bubbles rising an inch from his face.

  KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK—an unseen behemoth knocking from below. The current grows stronger, dragging Dantes deeper into the city. He braces for impact, knowing that he could slam into some unseen pinnacle of rock or be hurled against the molten lava without the slightest warning. Desperate gurgling grunts—his men are caught in the same current which flings them spinning through the black waters, tumbling over one another as though in free fall. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK—closer now, more insistent, as though sensing its approaching prey.

  No sound except the haunting echo of that beating rhythm. No light to reveal the jagged rocks which the swelling current promises to drag them into at any moment, nor hint of the unknown horror which hurls itself against the stone from below. Up and down, left and right, all meaningless abstractions in the tumbling void. The oppressive heat and pressure likely means they are still being dragged deeper into the cave. No way for Dantes to signal his men, or shout a warning, or cry out to lament his unforgivable mistake in leading them to their deaths.

  Dantes isn’t thinking about that though. He’s thinking about Jessica trapped in the open ocean off the desolate rocky shore. He’s thinking about how long she’ll wait for someone who isn’t coming back, and what she’ll do when the demon inside Kathleen crawls out of the depths. He’s thinking about how soft her lips were in that sliver of broken time when everything seemed like it might be okay.

  Then the KNOCK—KNOCK—KNOCKING, so close that the unseen monster must be on top of them already. The touch of something muscular and sinuous sliding around his right leg, and he can’t think at all anymore. All that’s left in him is the cowering animal, all hopes and fears and reason overcome by an instinctual will to survive.

  25

  The ocean is boiling. The waves churn violently around the boat, bulbous bubbles exploding to the surface to release clouds of suffocating gas. A school of fish skip and thrash into the air in their desperation to evacuate the area. Eric clings to the railing, leaning as far out as he dares to peer into the turbulent water, his face trembling in concern.

  “Another eruption? What are the chances—”

  “No, look over here,” Jessica says, “straight down as far as you can see.”

  “There’s nothing there.”

  “Exactly,” Jessica says. She’s dragged herself halfway out of her chair to lean heavily on the side.

  “Exactly what, exactly?”

  The pair stare together into the blackness which swirls and spreads through the water. It’s almost all the way to the surface now, transforming the cresting waves into spraying shadows which writhe like living things.

  “The demons drink up the lights,” Jessica says. “At least one of them must be down there. If Henry Wiggins is the one who met Kathleen, then we have to assume she might be compromised.”

  “Compromised?” Eric splutters. “Like a double agent? She’d never…”

  “If the seed is growing inside her, then Kathleen isn’t Kathleen anymore. Not all the way. But she’s still in there too, and we can reach her.”

  “No. This isn’t happening,” Eric mumbles, lurching back from the side. He runs his hands through hair, gripping it until his fingers are white. “She’s playing a prank on me. She’s trying to get back at me for not believing her and she’s—or it’s those explosives your friends brought down. It made a chemical reaction with the gaseous discharges and it—”

  “The light is dying,” Jessica interrupts. “My friends are dying too. I need you to calm down and trust me right now. Can you do that?”

  Eric is gulping the air without seeming to draw breath like a fish beating itself to death against the ground. The waters are pure black now for at least a hundred yards around the boat.

  “Does she love you back?” Jessica presses. She has drawn her chair up to Eric who stares at her with uncomprehending shock. Jessica releases a quick burst of air through her pursed lips. “Your expedition—who organized it?”

  “She did. She asked me if I wanted to accompany her because my research with the Geotraces project—”

  “Were there other people who would have gone with her instead?”

  Eric takes a step back, squirming under her scrutiny. “Sure, I suppose, but—”

  Jessica pursues him mercilessly. “And when she’s with you, is she always watching you? Are her smiles quick to form and slow to fade? Does she laugh when you laugh, or linger with you after work, or make excuses to talk to you when there isn’t anything to talk about?”

  Eric leaps over a low bench, positioning it between himself and Jessica’s chair. His face is flushed, his movements agitated and flustered. “Sometimes. Maybe. I don’t know what you’re on about—”

  “Both our lives and the lives of my friends depend on this right now,” Jessica barks, her voice momentarily taking on the gruff command her father used when he scolded her. “This isn’t the time for modesty or doubt. You’re a scientist. You observe reality and draw conclusions about it. I need you to t
ake a deep breath and give me your best guess.”

  The sudden stillness as Eric takes a long pull of air is interrupted by a splash near the boat. Eric starts to look, but Jessica grabs his shirt across the bench and drags his attention back.

  “Yeah, okay. I’ve suspected she might like me back for a while, but I don’t see what this has to do with—”

  “I can get us all through this, but I need you to promise to do what I say and not question me,” Jessica interrupts.

  Another pause, punctuated with the wet slap of something against the side of the boat. Eric nods numbly, his gaze drifting back to the fingers clinging onto the railing from the outside.

  A few moments later and Kathleen has poked her head above the side of the boat. She’s not wearing her mask anymore. Her burdensome diving gear has been abandoned in the water. The whites of her eyes show for a moment, but upon blinking the shine of black marble matches the water streaming from her body.

  “Stay where you are,” Jessica snaps. “Don’t step onto the boat.”

  Kathleen grins, black water bubbling between her white teeth in eerie contrast. She pulls her torso out of the water, then hesitates.

  Eric is kneeling beside Jessica who is holding one of the hunting knives against his neck. His flush has completely drained from his pallid face. He gulps, his terror palpable. “I don’t trust you,” Jessica says to Kathleen, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice. “I don’t trust either of you. If you get any closer, I’m going to cut your partner’s throat.”

  Eric makes a weak croaking sound, wincing as the blade digs a centimeter into his skin. This isn’t what he’d expected Jessica to ask.

  “I work alone,” Kathleen says, slowly lifting her torso above the side. “I only have business with you, Jessica Maston.”

  “I’m going to cut him ear to ear.” Jessica’s voice is lower and stronger this time, and she know she must be selling it because a real quiver runs through Eric’s body. “Then I’m going to dump him overboard and let the fishes strip him.”