Thanatos

by Carmen Kern

  The path they took brought them to tunnels that sloped up to the streets of Necromourn, the storm grates only a few meters above now. Noises of a waking city filtered down and followed them.

  Slowing at another paint splash on the wall, Thanatos stopped and cocked his head. Up ahead, three tunnels intersected.

  Jethro signaled to the other men behind him. They stopped talking and brought their weapons to the ready.

  Thanatos called out, “I can smell you, Bounty Hunter.”

  Silence. And then, the sound of shuffling feet and a grunt. The Bounty Hunter rounded the corner of one of the tunnels and stood in a shaft of light coming from the storm grates above.

  God and Hunter studied each other for a moment. The two soldiers flanking Thanatos aimed their pistols at the legendary character.

  “Tell ’em to ease up.” The Bounty Hunter pointed at them with the tip of his knife, making a show as he slipped it back into its sheath.

  “You heard the man,” Thanatos said, studying the Hunter.

  The officers lowered their guns.

  “How is it we’ve gone so many years without seeing each other?” Thanatos asked. “I’ll tell you. You’ve stayed out of my way. You’ve kept your partner out of my way.” Thanatos walked toward the Hunter, stopping just a few meters away. “Seems that is no longer the case.” His black eyes seemed to bore into the Hunter, who shifted his feet under the intense gaze. “Your partner was hungry, and unfortunately for both of you, he picked the wrong buffet table. Two of my soldiers were…dismantled in a most aggressive manner. Under different circumstances, I’d say it was a thing of beauty, the type of carnage I might have drawn myself.” The god sighed, glancing beside him to one of the officers and then back again. “But I didn’t.”

  Silence.

  The Bounty Hunter seemed unperturbed by the god’s words or where the conversation was going. “The beast did what it did without me knowledge. But that’s not why I’s coming to find you.” The Hunter paused.

  Thanatos laughed viciously as he spanned the distance between them within a heartbeat. Before the Hunter could reach for a weapon or run, the god was on him, vise grip around his sinewy neck. “Liar.” The god’s breath was minty and hot on the Hunter’s ear.

  The Hunter swooned, his legs weakening beneath him.

  The god held the Hunter up by his throat. “You weren’t looking for me. Don’t forget, I made you. Your emotions, the way you think…it all came from me. I know what lying looks like in every character I create.” He sniffed the Hunter’s cheek, his ear, and down his neck. “You’re hiding something.

  “Nah.” It was all the Hunter could manage from his throat.

  The two soldiers moved on either side of the god, fierce and ready.

  Thanatos cocked his head, and for a moment, seemed like he might strike the Hunter as a cobra might attack its handler. Instead, he loosened his grip.

  The Bounty Hunter seized the moment. “Hades,” he started before a coughing fit took him.

  Thanatos slammed him against the wall, pinning him by his shoulders this time.

  The earthen smell of wet foliage permeated the tunnel. Breathing easier without a vise around his throat, the Hunter looked at the god in his dark, bottomless eyes. “I find the Underworld god outside the tunnels.” He spoke softly, as if talking to a scared child. “He’s injured. I bring him in, patch ’im up.” He coughed again and spit a gob of phlegm to the side. “I, ah…the beast was guarding him. I’s went for water, and they was gone when I’s got back. The chain between ’em was broke.”

  Thanatos wrapped his fists in the Hunter’s cloak and lifted the man again until his feet dangled. The god expanded, his body growing, evolving into the god form he’d been born with, one he didn’t use often anymore. Death. Beautiful and awful. His skin turned to copper, shimmering, smooth, unblemished, polished to perfection. “Hades was here, captive, and you let him escape,” his voice boomed and whispered at the same time.

  The Hunter croaked, “Didn’t let ’im. But something else did. The chain was sawed or cut.” He was sweating now. “Someone else know he’s here, and they’s helping ’im.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Who else knows about your place?” Thanatos kept a firm grip on the Hunter, holding him up at god’s-eye level.

  “No one’s ever found my cave. Never before.” He licked his lips. “Something strange…gold and pink paint from drainpipes and along the walls while I’s tracking the beast. Like they follow the beast, or the beast follow them. All I know’s that Hades and the beast is gone…all afore I could tell ya. Honest, I’s on my way…” His voice trailed off.

  “What do you think, Jethro? You’re good at reading people. You think he’s telling the truth?” Thanatos leered before thrusting his head at the Hunter’s nose for a fake headbutt.

  The Hunter jerked, his head smacking against the wall. Thanatos grinned.

  “We’ve seen the paint. And if he had Hades in chains, that means the god’s low, if not empty, on power,” Jethro answered. “Whether he was coming to tell you or not, we can use him. If we run out of paint trail to follow, the Hunter’ll be useful. We could find us another tracker who’s almost as good as me.”

  “I like your arrogance, Jethro. Or should we call it confidence?” Thanatos turned to the sergeant. “But you’ve got a point.”

  Thanatos dropped the Bounty Hunter, and he fell to his knees. He bowed his head and stayed there, kneeling before his god, grinding his teeth.

  “Get up. You’re coming with us.” Thanatos walked out of the Hunter’s line of sight to talk to his soldiers. “Search him. And then we’ll double back the way we came. If the Bounty Hunter didn’t find him back there, that means he’s heading east.”

  The two soldiers yanked the Hunter to his feet and searched him, taking their time with the pockets of his dirty cape.

  One of the soldiers pulled out a knife and a silver-encased cigarette and handed them to Thanatos. “This is all we found.”

  Thanatos snatched the cigarette out of the man’s hand. Spinning the case as he read from the Greek symbols, he suddenly popped it between his lips and sucked and sucked. But the normally blazing end was lifeless. “Damn thing.” Thanatos scowled, peeled his lips off the end and buried the cigarette in a deep pocket.

  Jethro took the knife from the soldier and slid it into his own weapons belt. “So we go north, back to the crossing?” Jethro asked Thanatos, keeping one eye on the Hunter.

  The Bounty Hunter slicked his lank hair back and adjusted his cloak. “From there we walks along the main sewer line to 13th Street.”

  The other three turned to stare at him.

  “Why?” Jethro asked.

  “That’ll get us north. We needs to pays attention to the tracks, not just the paints. They might split somewheres.”

  Thanatos looked to his officers, who nodded. “Well, then, let’s go.” He turned back toward the Bounty Hunter and waved his slender hand back the way they had come. “After you.”

  The Hunter shifted the canvas pack on his back and walked past the others, into the murkier part of the tunnel.

  They walked for an undetermined amount of time, wading through the warm, stinking darkness, heading toward the sound of rushing water. The silence was broken by Thanatos questioning his sergeant on whether he’d heard anything from Phobetor. The man shook his head. They passed under brick arches, retracing their steps until they hit an intersection where bridges spanned over runoff lines and sewage lines ran side by side on their way to the mighty river of Scorchberg, or to the sanitation facility on the outskirts of Necromourn. The sound of scuttling feet and dripping and rushing water surrounded them.

  The Bounty Hunter stopped in the middle of a bridge, turning around to face the others. “That’s the tunnel north.” He pointed to the largest of the tunnels. “No paints. You see that?”

  “Last one with paint was back at the culvert where we started, where my me
n were torn apart…” Jethro looked behind them silently.

  “They were two-bit characters in a story that died along with the main character. Forget about them,” Thanatos said to Jethro, and then turned to the Bounty Hunter. “You think the Beast is still after Hades, even after he fed?”

  The Bounty Hunter scratched at a scab under his beard. “The Beast hunts the god ’cause he escape ’is watch. We find the Beast’s trail, and we find ’em both. I check which way we go.”

  The three men waited for the Bounty Hunter on the edge of the bridge, where the stink wasn’t as strong. Fresh air blew in from above, the rushing water rushed the garbage and shit past them. It was a bearable stench at best. They kept a close watch on the Bounty Hunter, who checked the second tunnel for tracks.

  A few minutes later he poked his head out of the Amityville tunnel. “This way,” he shouted and disappeared inside once again.

  “Let’s go.” Thanatos slapped his sergeant on his back and followed the Bounty Hunter.

  The two officers exchanged looks behind the god’s back as they brought up the rear.

  Ahead of them, a bellowing cry. A yowling note so long it had to come from something that needed no breath. The soldiers sprinted down the tunnel to an open room housing the mechanical equipment for the treatment planet under the Sprawl, the most unsavory part of the city, where toothless whores and skeletal addicts made their home. There had been little to no maintenance in this sector for decades. Nature had taken over. Tree roots and bushes grew through pipes and giant holding tanks rusted and cracked with age and moisture. At the far end was the cause of the piercing noise. A beast, an afterthought, a grab bag of parts that had been shook up and then put back together in the wrong order, extruded multiple whip tails, each one tipped with a cluster of barbs. It stomped hooves and giant feet while other, smaller limbs flailed about, flexing claws and pincers and rattling tails.

  In the corner, shivering and reared up on hind legs, a ferret with pink-tipped ears and gold-painted claws stared out at them, his wide black eyes too large for its face.

  Thanatos whispered something in the Bounty Hunter’s ear.

  The man nodded. He picked his way around a collapsed tank, his hands in the air as he came around in front of the Beast. Several of its eyes rolled around, watching the Hunter while he lowered both hands slowly, palms facing down. It took a few moments, but the Beast stopped its bellowing. It whimpered quietly while the Hunter approached.

  The Bounty Hunter stood in front of his friend; a black rubbery tentacle snaked out to touch the hem of his cape.

  It was in that moment that Thanatos leaped forward with a succession of motions too quick to follow.

  The Beast shuddered suddenly, deflating while blood spewed from a hole in its mangy side. It sunk to its knees and elbows, kicking out, appendages waving and curling into themselves. It turned all its eyes on the god of death.

  Thanatos stood just out of reach of the Beast, both hands holding hearts, still-beating red chunks of muscle, blood soaking him up to his elbows. “I should have erased you long ago.” He dropped the hearts and stomped on them until they were a bloody pulp, while the Beast blinked in surprise until every grotesque part of its body lay still.

  The Bounty Hunter had sunk to his knees beside his friend. His right hand moved to the opening in his cloak.

  “Don’t think to avenge him, Hunter. You’ll be dead before you pull that knife.” Thanatos licked a splatter of blood from his chin. “Um.” He snapped his fingers, and the Beast that had been was no more, along with the blood and gore. No traces were left. The god turned to the frightened animal trapped in the corner and said, “Welcome to my world, Kay Te.” He crouched down, staring into Ferret’s large eyes. “I’ve got special plans for you. A death party of sorts. But that will have to wait. Right now, I have other things to attend to.” He stood, tugging his twisted armor into place. “And then I’ll be back to show you a good time…don’t you worry.”

  His smile curled in pleasure. He made a show of raising his hand, ringed fingers glinting in streams of light from the gutter grates above. With a snap of his finger, an iron cage emerged from nothing, lowering from the ceiling like alligator teeth closing over its prey.

  Ferret had no time to move, to scurry or climb. The invisible cuffs around his legs made it harder to move, shortening his stride, his small legs working twice as hard. He had been doing fine until the Beast cornered him here with no place to go. There were no escape holes in the wall. Mortar and stone fit tight despite the moisture. Ferret shuddered. The cage closed over him, snapping together, fitting him like it was tailor-made for his size. There was no room to move. A black curtain fell over it, blocking out light and sound and any connection Ferret had with the muse.

  “Jethro, bring the cage,” Thanatos commanded. “Hunter, you’re coming with us. I have use for you yet. Be thankful.” He lifted the Hunter up with a powerful heave, steadying him before cuffing him with a punishing backhanded blow, the edges of his rings bursting the man’s lip. “Be damn thankful.” He turned around before he could see the fierce look of hate on the Hunter’s face.

  Jethro snatched up the cage and followed Thanatos. The other officer pushed the Hunter ahead of him and brought up the rear.

  No one in the small group spoke until they emerged from the sewers through the manhole on the corner of Orion and Macabre.

  Thanatos looked up at the contorted towers of his earlier work, studying the hard angles that tore into a sky churning with a cauldron of storm clouds. Lightning flashed in small zigzags across the sky, as if warming up for showtime. “I’ve got an idea. A damn good one, if I say so myself.” He turned his eyes to his men. “I’m going topside for a day or two. I want all your men looking for Hades. Search the houses near the marketplace and then fan out from there. Someone’s helping him, not just the muse. Someone who knows this world.”

  “There’s been rumblings—”

  “Follow any lead, any rumor. I want him found by the time I’m back.” Thanatos rested his gaze on the Hunter. “And stick him somewhere safe until I get back.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jethro raised the cage in his hand. “And what about this?”

  “I’ll take it.”

  Jethro set it on the ground at the god’s feet.

  Thanatos waved his hand in dismissal.

  Jethro shoved the Hunter along while the three made their way down the jaggedy street.

  “You can’t hear me, Kay Te, but I’m coming for you,” Thanatos said. “The real you.” He raised his face to a sky black as charred skin and grinned. “No one brings pastels into my world.”

  THIRTEEN

  In the bloated darkness of the Vancouver night, as rain spewed like a broken sprinkler, Kay Te hunched over her sketchbook, charcoal scratching against paper. Her eyes burned with fatigue. Just one more panel to draw until Ferret was back where he left Hades.

  Four hours earlier, she had strapped Hephaestus’s cuffs around Ferret’s tiny feet and sent him back down the manhole beneath their hotel window. Kay Te could only assume that Hades would still be there.

  Persephone had fallen asleep on the bed beside her, her hands resting on her chest. More than once, Kay Te had caught herself staring at the goddess, wanting to draw her, paint her into a scene where red poppies grew from smiling skulls and fields of fire burning in the distance. Sleeping Beauty, Underworld style. She took another sip of coffee and turned back to the almost-finished panel in front of her, only to pause. Her hand hovered over a creature so hideous it could only have come from the minds of the Night brothers. Its heads swayed back and forth, some of its mouths snapping while others licked leathery lips and flashed wicked fangs at a small creature huddled in a dark corner. A black hoof struck out from what seemed to be the front of the beast, catching Ferret mid-body, flinging him away to hit another wall.

  “Nonononono,” Kay Te whimpered at the explosion of pain through her left side. She clutched her
ribs with one hand while trying desperately to draw a drain or hole or street gutter up high on the drawing with her other, but she couldn’t manage it. This scene had already been decided while she daydreamed of goddesses and fairy tales.

  Scratch, scratch, scritch. The paper dented with the pressure of her charcoal, but there were no marks. She threw down the piece and picked up the nearest pencil, pressing down hard enough to tear the paper, but nothing happened. She couldn’t change the drawing. Kay Te could only watch and cry out with the shared pain of her creation.

  The huge creature splintered and curled and writhed toward Ferret. Its limbs slammed back and forth against the stone walls. All its mouths opened wide, unhinged jaws falling back to expose rows of razor-sharp teeth and giant black tongues. The word roar appeared in thick black letters at the top of the panel. Spit flew at Ferret as the creature bellowed, tonsils shaking at the back of its throats.

  Kay Te covered her ears, though she heard nothing. A raw-throated moan of rage escaped her lips as she watched one of the Beast’s arms bend hideously backward, grabbing for Ferret.

  Persephone stirred at the sound. Her eyes popped open, and she sprang up from the bed.

  Kay Te sensed the goddess beside her but couldn’t tear her eyes away from the beast. So much happened in but a moment, hearts ripped from chests, a caped man kneeled, cages fell from the sky. And darkness, complete and soundless. Silence ate Kay Te’s world.

  Kay Te grasped for anything, her hands flapping, flailing until she felt Persephone grab on, holding her tight.

  “Kay Te, what’s happening?” Persephone whispered in the muse’s ear while she stroked her pink hair. “Tell me.” She peered over Kay Te’s head and saw the sketchbook, the facing pages a solid and endless black. A black so deep it was a bottomless pit or the deepest of space. It stunk of the Night family.

  There was nothing to see, nothing to anchor Kay Te in this place or that. She swayed back and forth, knocked against the table while pain seared her side and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe until she took shallow gulps of moist air that stank of rot and she fell into Persephone’s body, but it was so far away and there was so much cold.