Jeremy Chikalto and the Hazy Souls

by T.S. DeBrosse

  “Relax! Do you know what's going on? Is this part of your twitchy air, angel thing? Remind me again why we jumped into a boiling pool!” Maren gasped and spun around, half-expecting to see a corpse rise from the nearest tomb. She managed to kick up a thick layer of dust and went into a coughing fit.

  “We have to save our parents. Stop fidgeting please. I never told you this, but before we left Watico, Ms. Fritz told me in private that an angel spoke to her, and that I was supposed to go somewhere. I think this is where I'm supposed to be.”

  “So what, Ms. Fritz is your ally now?”

  “Of course not.” Jeremy stepped forward and brushed aside some cobwebs on the nearest tomb. The tomb felt ice cold.

  “Don't touch it!”

  Jeremy leaned forward and read aloud the inscription:

  Here lies the remains of Dennis O'Leary.

  After haunting Fairview Gardens, the scene of his murder, Dennis gave his soul to Mantel in a fine duck sauce with roasted chestnuts.

  Jeremy shuddered and turned to see Maren's reaction. She had resigned herself to a cautious silence. He read the inscription on the next tomb:

  Here lies the remains of Anne Sanders.

  After searching the entire Eastern seaboard for her son Joseph's plane, Anne gave her soul to Mantel stuffed with cabbage.

  “Let's get out of here,” whispered Maren.

  “Door,” said Lyrna.

  There was a break in the arrangement of coffins and a wooden door a few steps away. Jeremy made his way to the door and motioned for the others to follow. Right before he touched the rusted handle, his foot landed on a raised tile and a loud click came from somewhere above. Lyrna hissed. Maren was the first to look up.

  “Jeremy, watch out!”

  Jeremy looked up and saw white and gray debris falling fast towards him. He jumped back as dust and ash filled the room.

  “Jeremy, are you okay?” cried Maren between coughs.

  “Yeah! What...?” Jeremy waved his hand in front of his face and squinted through the dust. On the floor in front of him lay a pile of human remains. “Oh, God!” Jeremy gagged.

  “What? What is it!”

  “Skeletons, Maren. We have to get out of here.”

  “Skeletons!” she shrieked.

  “Door here!” Lyrna clawed at the large wooden door, eager to depart. Maren rushed forward and pushed the door open. Light flooded into the catacombs. Jeremy followed and slammed the door closed behind him.

  The room was ten by fifteen feet, and had a torch in each corner and six more doors. Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna walked slowly across the stone floor.

  “Which one?” asked Maren.

  Jeremy shrugged and opened the closest door. Behind it was a wall of stone. He tried the next door. Behind it was a steep, dark staircase. Something up the stairs moaned. Jeremy shut the door.

  “Maren, why don't you try the next one,” he said.

  Maren stiffened and walked to the next door. “There were... ghosts.” She stood in front of the door for a long time, grabbing its handle, releasing it, and grabbing it again.

  “Just do it,” goaded Jeremy.

  Maren flung the door open and jumped back. There was a dark corridor with a single door at the end. Green smoke seeped through the crack between the floor and the door.

  “Let's just get this over with,” said Jeremy. He picked up Lyrna and walked down the corridor.

  Maren raced down the corridor after him. “Wait! How can you be so sure?”

  “I'm not 'so sure,' I'm decisive. Do you want your parents back?”

  Lyrna batted at Jeremy's ear. “Scared!”

  Their hesitation only made Jeremy want to move faster.

  Jeremy inched closer to the door. He grabbed the handle, pulled, and –

  “You're out of the catacombs,” said the thin ghost, rising slowly from a pool of bubbling green liquid. “I was hoping you'd join us.”

  Lyrna wriggled free from Jeremy's arms and ran back to Maren, who clung to the wall just beside the door.

  Jeremy cautiously made his way to a stone seat beside the pool. He looked down into the pool and saw the wispy silhouette of the fatter ghost haunting the depths.

  “Okay, we're here now. Is there something you wanted to tell us?” Jeremy shuddered as the thin ghost rose in the air. A flash of red lit up the black of the ghost's eyes.

  “When I said I was hoping you'd join us, I meant I was hoping you'd die.”

  Jeremy opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the fat ghost whose head popped up out of the water.

  “Don't look so alarmed,” said the fat ghost, winking. “We were rooting for you.”

  “We thought if your ghosts made it out of the catacombs, at least your trace would have weakened.”

  Jeremy's heart beat fast in his chest. “I've no idea what you're talking about.”

  “When you die down here, you attract demons,” said the thin ghost. “The trace of a life departed is strongest at the scene of death. Demons like fresh souls. We don't want to be around when that happens.”

  “What is this place?” asked Jeremy. He looked behind him at Maren and Lyrna. Both were still as stone. A torchlight flickered.

  “This place,” said the thin ghost, “is Mantel's Maze.”

  Jeremy blinked. “Mantel. I'm supposed to locate him for some reason. Do you know what he wants from me?”

  The thin ghost dove from the air and hovered in front of Jeremy's face. “Hmm, can't say for sure. He's always cooking up some plan or another.”

  The fat ghost stifled a laugh. “You seem like well-seasoned adventurers with... juicy stories.”

  “I've read the epitaphs!” snapped Jeremy. “Are you saying he wants to eat me?!” Jeremy leapt up from the stone seat. The thin ghost flew in front of him.

  “Wait,” began the thin ghost. “He wants to see you specifically? You're sure about that?”

  Jeremy nodded. “But why would he want to eat me?”

  The ghost smiled. “He wants to eat us all. Anyway, it's considered an honor. I'd rather be a ghost, of course, but some souls yearn to be consumed.”

  Jeremy looked at Maren and Lyrna to see how they were settling in with this news. Neither spoke, but both locked eyes with Jeremy.

  “Okay,” said Jeremy slowly, “and why would the souls yearn to be consumed?”

  “Be careful!” warned the fat ghost, suddenly serious. “We really shouldn't meddle! Mantel was going to take them to the Heart! We shouldn't have brought them here. You heard it, Mantel wants this guy for something, these aren't your average mountaineers!”

  “M-mountaineers?” Maren stammered, pushing her stringy blonde hair behind her ears. A droplet of water fell from the dank stone ceiling and landed on her nose, causing her to jump.

  The thin ghost smiled. “The living tend to enter through volcanoes. The dead are summoned.”

  “Let's take them to the Heart!” shouted the thin ghost.

  “Please,” said Maren, “tell us why souls want to be eaten by Mantel?”

  The thin ghost flew in front of Maren and inspected her. “Mantel is great,” whispered the thin ghost with an air of secrecy. “You become a part of Mantel and make him greater. He feeds on souls and that's how he gets his power. It's a sacrifice for the greater good.”

  “You really shouldn't have said that,” said the fat ghost, shaking his head.

  “I'm done! This way.”

  Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna followed the ghosts through the next door and down another long, dark corridor lit by torches. Lyrna sniffed at a large crack that ran along the base of the wall, and paused to inspect a gaping hole in the stone.

  “Hurry up, Lyrna,” said Jeremy, motioning for her to join him.

  “Eyes,” whispered Lyrna, her ears flattened.

  Jeremy and Maren shuddered, not wanting to know more.

  At last they arrived at a rusty metal door with Hebrew scratched onto its surface. Jeremy opened the door. The room was ill-li
t and smelled like rotting flesh. A corpse was slumped up against the side of the wall. Maren gasped and jumped back. Jeremy turned away and gagged.

  “See? A mountaineer,” sneered the thin ghost.

  “Who did this to her? Did Mantel do this?” asked Jeremy with one hand still hovering over his nose.

  “Could have been the giants, or any one of the warlocks. Maybe Ekoto. Likely some abomination.”

  “Or Mala'pez.” The fat ghost shuddered upon saying the name. Even the thin, bolder ghost shrank back in fear.

  “Mala'pez?” It worried Jeremy that ghosts could fear something. What could be worse than getting eaten by Mantel?

  “It's a demon,” said the thin ghost. “Not the one that haunts the catacombs. This one's faster. I've seen it myself around this level of the Maze.” The thin ghost noted the utter incomprehension spread across Maren's features and added, “Demons sometimes come in disguised as ghosts. They escape hell and come here. But when a demon eats a ghost, the ghost goes straight to hell.”

  The fat ghost leaned forward. “When you die down here, we recommend the catacombs. Demons love fresh souls, and as my friend pointed out earlier, your ghost has the best chance of, er, surviving if you perish in the catacombs.”

  Jeremy cast his eyes to the ground.

  “Because of the slow demon.”

  “I get it!” Jeremy grabbed Maren by the arm and pulled her to his side.

  The thin ghost nodded and opened another door. The sound of chains tightening and slackening echoed into the room.

  The thin ghost turned around and whispered to the fat ghost, “I think Belvdor is sleeping.”

  Maren retreated. “Who... what's that?”

  “Belvdor,” said the thin ghost, “is one of Mantel's abominations. Mantel experiments with building new souls out of soul remains.”

  Just then, they heard a deep-voiced incantation from behind them. The ghosts' deep, sunken eyes flashed red and their jaws dropped, revealing a blackness within. “It's the demon Mala'pez!” cried the thin ghost. “Sorry! You're on your own!” The two ghosts vanished behind a wall.

  Chapter 37

  Diabolus Mos Eat Vos

  Lost Animus

  “Mala'pez! The, the fast demon?” Maren quaked from head to toe. She peaked her head into the room with the abomination, and then retreated. “So two choices.” Maren took a deep breath. “We can go forward and attempt to get past this monster, or we can retreat and risk running into, er, Mala'pez.”

  “I say we run past Belvdor. It's chained down so we stand a chance.”

  “What if we pass it but the door is locked?” Maren scooted her back against the wall until she brushed up against Jeremy.

  “I check.” Lyrna licked Jeremy's hand. “Small, quick.”

  Mala'pez groaned from somewhere behind them.

  “Okay, Lyrna. But be careful.” Jeremy and Maren anxiously watched as Lyrna entered the abomination's chamber. The creature was the size of an elephant, and its skin was a dappled arrangement of fur and scales. It looked like a cross between a wolverine and a Komodo dragon, except more lethal. Lyrna scurried across the floor, slinking low to the ground. The abomination's large, leathery tail whipped. Lyrna jumped back, narrowly missing the abomination's back paw. The door was five feet away.

  Lyrna looked back at Jeremy and Maren in the doorway.

  Jeremy nodded in encouragement.

  Lyrna turned towards the door and crept forward. Suddenly the abomination's tail flicked and landed on Lyrna's back. Her feline instincts got the best of her and she hissed and spat indignantly, immediately regretting it. Belvdor, finally noticing the small, furry intruder, rattled its chains, stood upright on its paws, and bared its butcher-knife teeth. Slime oozed out the side of its mouth and its red, slitted pupils rolled to the back of its head.

  Belvdor leaned its massive head forward and snorted. Lyrna leapt into the air and gave Belvdor's nose a nice scratch before running back to the room with the corpse. Belvdor snarled and howled, its voice resembling metal scraping metal. The monster surged against its chains, which strained and snapped, and lunged forward.

  “Quick, close the door!” shouted Maren.

  “Just go!” Jeremy shoved Maren forward. He felt Belvdor's hot, rancid breath on his back and turned around; his hand crackled and generated a white orb, and he hurled a lightening bolt at the abomination's chest. Belvdor stumbled back against the wall, roared, and then raged forward. Jeremy ran through the doorway and slammed the door closed. Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna raced down the corridor and through the first door on the left. To their horror, they realized the demon Mala'pez's otherworldly incantations were growing louder. Jeremy flung the next door open. “Down here!”

  The door opened to a descending staircase. Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna scrambled down the stairs. When they got to the base of the stairs, they quieted. Maren's hands fumbled for Jeremy. The room was so dark, her eyes had trouble adjusting. “Do you hear it?” she whispered.

  “Ssh!” Jeremy looked up. A faint light trickled in from behind the door at the top of the staircase. The demon's incantations were coming from above. The sound was foreign and had so much bass it made the stones beneath their feet vibrate.

  “DIABOLUS ERO ALIVE ITERUM. DIABOLUS MOS EAT VOS LOST ANIMUS. REDEO UT VERSUS INCENDIA.”

  “Jeremy! It's Latin.” Maren lowered herself to the ground. “Our souls, it wants our souls!”

  Jeremy flinched. The incantation was getting louder.

  “It's coming down the stairs! We have to move!” Maren sprang up and rushed forward into the blackness. She banged against something and fell.

  “Maren?” Jeremy felt around in front of him.

  “DIABOLUS ERO ALIVE ITERUM. DIABOLUS MOS EAT VOS LOST ANIMUS. REDEO UT VERSUS INCENDIA.”

  “I think I'm bleeding,” cried Maren.

  “Light!” mewed Lyrna. Jeremy felt her claws sink into his leg.

  “I know, I can't see!”

  “No, lightening!”

  “Ah!” Jeremy crept in the darkness towards where Maren had fallen. He held one hand out in front of him to prevent a collision and brought the other up over his head. Concentrate. A blue spark danced in his hand. He shot it up to the ceiling. The temporary bright blue light revealed that Maren had tripped over a rusty stone brick oven. She rose to her feet. “What is that!?”

  “DIABOLUS ERO ALIVE ITERUM. DIABOLUS MOS EAT VOS LOST ANIMUS. REDEO UT VERSUS INCENDIA.”

  “Again!” said Lyrna.

  Jeremy produced another ball of electricity and held it in his palm, his face tense with concentration. Lyrna ran forward.

  “Here! Room.”

  Maren and Jeremy followed Lyrna. The next room was lit by torches and Jeremy allowed the electricity in his palm to fizzle.

  “How did you do that?” Maren stood gaping at Jeremy.

  He yanked her forward and ran.

  After opening and closing some fifteen odd doors, Jeremy collapsed onto the floor. Maren and Lyrna curled up beside him and there they remained for some time, quiet and fearful lest some new creature should stumble upon them. The room was small and plain, with stone tiles and walls and three wooden doors. A lamp was placed beside the smallest door just in front of them.

  “I think we're safe here,” said Jeremy.

  “Lightning. You made lightning.” Maren stared in wonder at Jeremy's hand.

  “Aye.”

  “I guess all that air twitching paid off?” She smiled weakly but then sniffled.

  “How's your cut?” asked Jeremy, feeling strangely protective.

  “It's not too bad.” She lifted up her pajama bottoms to reveal a small gash just below her knee. “I need to clean it. At least it stopped bleeding.”

  Jeremy stood up and stretched. There was a stitch in his side. “Yeow, I'm thirsty.”

  “We're going to die,” said Maren morosely.

  “We're not going to die, Maren.” There was an edge to his voice. “We just have to get to the Hear
t.”

  “This is a maze, it's not like if we keep opening and closing doors we'll get there!”

  “I toffee,” said Lyrna sadly. She sniffed the floor in vain.

  “I'd like some toffee too.” Maren stood up and attempted to slap the dust and grime from off her chick pajamas. “So we're here because Mantel wants to eat you?”

  “We don't know that.”

  “Well then what do you know?”

  “Mantel. I'm in a maze underground. He builds mazes and eats souls... demons float around here. Hell if I know.” Jeremy walked over to the door with the lamp beside it and opened it. The room looked much the same as the others, with four identical wooden doors, and stone floors and walls. “Pick one.”

  Maren rubbed her eyes and sighed. “That one.” She pointed to one of the doors and Jeremy opened it. An old man in rags was standing up against the door and toppled over.

  Chapter 38

  Circle of Wisdom

  “Pardon me!” yelled the old man from the floor.

  Jeremy helped the old man to his feet and eyed him curiously. The old man wore what could pass as a potato sack with holes in it, and had white, stringy hair that sprouted everywhere.

  “That's right, I'm no demon. Name's Fedonis.” The old man shuffled over to a makeshift stand set up in the corner of the room. Jars of potions and talismans lined the shelves. He grabbed a comb from off his wooden counter and yanked it through his thin, stringy white hair. “Damn humidity,” he mumbled. “So what will it be today, hrm?” He grinned a toothless smile.

  Lryna was the first to run up to the stand. “Water? Food?” She hopped from paw to paw.

  “Don't know where the oasis is located, hrm? It's a map you'll be needing!”

  Jeremy and Maren exchanged looks and joined Lyrna by the stand.

  Fedonis rustled through a drawer and pulled out an aged map. The map was made of tan hide and large chunks were missing, as though it had been chewed. “Get you all around! Get you to your oasis, this will. What do you have for me?”

  Jeremy frowned. “I'm not sure I understand you. Do you... accept credit cards?”

  “Credit what?” The old man leaned across the counter and gave Jeremy a great sniff. “Let's see it.”

  Repulsed, Jeremy took a step back and pulled his credit card from his wallet. He pushed it across the counter, missing the old man's extended hand on purpose. Maren kicked Jeremy's foot disapprovingly.