Hell Hound

by Matthew Sylvester

  Standing at the end of the bridge, I handed the doll over. Grinning, drool leaking from his mouth, the Troll held it close to an eye.

  'Baby ugly. All humans are ugly, but this baby is ugly.' Coming from a Troll that was probably the worst insult a baby could be given. I felt a stirring of motherly defensiveness before I realised that a) I wasn't the thing's mother and b) it was a bloody ugly doll.

  'Look, you didn't bloody say you wanted a good-looking baby, you said you wanted a baby. There. Baby. Get me Pete.'

  The Bull raised the baby to his cow-like nose and sniffed it hard.

  'Smell like all babies we get. Why?'

  That I wasn't prepared for. 'Umm, because babies smell like that? Look, can we just have Pete and we'll be on our way.'

  He sniffed again, then licked the baby with a slime coated tongue. The baby giggled and gurgled, like babies do, a pudgy little hand trying to catch the Troll's tongue.

  'Tastes strange.'

  'Okay, it's a marmite baby. Some like it, some don't.' I could feel the sweat prickling on my forehead. I didn't want to fight if we could avoid it. Fighting takes it out of you.

  It wears away at your fitness until you find yourself utterly gassed. Adrenaline might be good for the short-term, but over a long period, it's just pure poison. 'Get Pete.'

  'Wait here,' he said, turning his back on me and walking to the centre of the bridge. 'Pete, time to leave. Pact finished.' I couldn't see where he was directing that to but guessed Pete was in one of the shacks beneath the bridge. That, or the Troll had gone mad. 'No! You leave now.'

  Smirking, I imagined the other half of the conversation. Pete must have been utterly shitting himself. Still, there was a niggling worry that if he argued long enough, the glamour would wear off. Or the Troll would realise it wasn't real.

  'Why baby eye missing!' roared the Troll. I closed my eyes in frustration. The Glamour wasn't meant to be examined so damned closely. Add to that the suspicion caused by the baby smelling the same as all the other babies that had been supposedly handed over and the spell had been broken.

  'Game on, Dawn.'

  Putting my hands into my coat's voluminous pockets, I stepped fully onto the bridge, slipping my left hand into my push dagger and my right hand into my special knuckles, muttering the Ogre Strength Icon's trigger word of, 'Bring it.' Man, that was a rush, I suddenly felt like I could take on whole of the Avengers single-handed whilst sipping espresso coffee.

  I charged at him, something he clearly hadn't expected me to do. Too many members of the Magical community try to solve things with Spells rather than truly getting their hands dirty.

  Frowning at my—apparently—distinct lack of fear, he reached up to scratch at a boil on his cheek with a finger as thick as three of mine combined. Excrement covered the rags, which in turn poorly covered his huge genitalia. Dirt was encrusted on nearly every part of his skin bar his head, and the stench would have been overwhelming if I hadn't Cast that Charm.

  I could bottle his fragrance and sell it for a fortune on the non-lethal market.

  He leered at me as I ran towards him, arms open wide, thrusting his huge belly towards me, and exposing blackened tusks with what looked like rotting flesh trapped between them. Death incarnate didn't do him justice.

  Within seconds, I was close enough to touch him, and my stomach roiled as my eyes continued to insist on finding one disgusting thing after another. It was like I was in the presence of plagues-made flesh. He scratched again, a different place, and this time, flakes of skin as big as my fingernails drifted through the air. I'd never faced an enemy so unconcerned about the coming fight. It was, I thought, concerning.

  I'm going to need industrial strength cleaner after this. I was seriously worried about my health. God knows what germs are getting into me.

  'You get free hit, little lady. You too small to hurt me.'

  'Deal.' And I punched him in the cock as hard as I could. Which with the Ogre Strength coursing through my body, was bloody hard indeed.

  Never have I seen someone's cock get punched off. Two things happened. The first was that he let out a scream of agony that deafened me. The second was that I was covered in luminous green blood as it jutted from the stump of the cock, which was flip-flopping through the air and over the side of the bridge a good twenty feet away from us.

  'Down!' Shrieked Dawn, and I acted without thinking, dropping to the ground immediately. That warning saved me from getting his brow horn in my face as he folded over, hands clutching at his wound, howling.

  Rolling to my feet, I came up in a fighting stance as the rest of his family boiled out of the shacks and charged onto the bridge.

  They were all just as ugly as he was. As they pounded towards me, their steps making the bridge shake, I punched my dagger into his kneecap, shattering it. His howls reached a surprisingly womanly-high pitch. I didn't want to kill him as I had no clue as to who he was allied with. Smashing the Were pack was bad enough, but I didn't want two areas of the UnderCity undergoing power struggles. It would piss off too many powerful people.

  Dawn opened fire in controlled bursts, the bullets cracking past my head. Every shot hit.

  Her special rounds played merry havoc. Taking her cue from the fact that I hadn't killed the bull, her shots were hitting limbs. The RIP rounds worked wonders. Utterly devastating they blew flesh and bone into the air.

  'Moving!' Not wanting to wait for them to reach me, I moved forward hands raised. The Ogre Strength was a time limited power up, and I had roughly twenty seconds left to maximise its benefits.

  'You hurt my daddy husband!' raged a female Troll as she charged towards me, ignoring the bullets striking home, her six breasts flapping like windsocks with each step. I halted my advance, keeping my guard up and my knees slightly bent.

  She reached towards me, both hands outstretched. Ducking under them I shuffled forward, stepping right into her guard. My left hand held the punch dagger, and I threw a heavy shovel uppercut into her ribs, twisting the blade to open a yawing gash. My right hand delivered a heavy overhand cross, driving the metal knuckles into her diaphragm. There was a sickening crunch, her rib cage sinking inwards with the power of the blow. If I hadn't been fighting for my life, I'd have been sickened.

  As it was, I was moving on before she'd even truly had time to register the pain. A younger looking Troll, a calf, jabbed a large club at me. He was scared shitless as the liquid excremental running down his legs testified. I almost felt sorry for him. With the next jab, I parried with the dagger then stepped forward and punched him square in the mush. Trying to keep it as light as possible, I cursed as the punch took his lower jaw off, his tongue falling to hang on his chest. Blood, bone, and teeth flew in all directions.

  I'd taken three Trolls down in under ten seconds. I still had another ten seconds until my Ogre Strength was gone. Dawn had also done sterling work, her shots taking down another two.

  'You couldn't fucking leave it!' It was Stinky Pete. He'd partially shifted into his rat form, no longer channelling the Rock Spirit. It was probably a one-off deal. His loss, my gain. In rat form, he had incisors large enough to bite my head off and stood a good skinny seven foot tall. His hands were opened wide, wicked looking claws at the tip of his fingers. The urge to Shift was strong, but to do so would mean losing the benefits of my weapons and the Ogre Strength.

  He crouched, then sprang forward in one smooth motion, flying more than twenty feet through the air. I rolled, dodging under a wild swing and countered with a jab from my knuckles. Smoke rose from where I hit as the silver did its work. He squeaked, shrill, ear-piercing sound that made me stagger.

  Pain exploded on the side of my face as he raked his claws across my face. I lashed out with my dagger blindly, screaming out my own pain and rage. A blur from the other side was the only warning I had. My elbow rose as I cupped the back of my head and tucked my chin down. More pain, this time as his claws opened the flesh of my arm.

  He was close now, using
those two vicious strikes to close the distance. I stabbed out once more, just to stop him drawing close enough to bite, then hammered my injured arm downwards, twisting the knuckles so they struck home on his clavicle. The bone shattered beneath the blow just as my Ogre Strength ran out. The force and the pain of it drove him to his knees. Blinking away tears of pain, I punch-stabbed him three times in the torso as fast as I could. My injured arm hung limply by my side. Trying to lift it, I screamed in agony. There was no way I could punch with it. Instead, I twisted my body and flung the lifeless arm forward, the metal knuckles smashing into his snout.

  If I thought I'd been in pain before, I was mistaken. My vision went, as did my knees, sending me crashing to the ground. Thrusting out my left hand on instinct, I managed to prevent myself from falling flat on my face.

  'Jane! Do not fucking move!' Dawn was beside me as if by Magic, hot bullet casings raining down upon me as she fired on full auto. 'Any more of you fuckers want some more!' she screamed. From the silence I guessed that any Trolls still standing had decided enough was enough. Their family would heal from their wounds, but the pain they would be feeling had taken the fight from them, meaning that those still standing were facing a pissed-off Dawn on their own.

  'Fuck me, you beat the living shit out of a Troll's cock!' She patted me on my good shoulder, the jolt making me bite my lip to hold in a scream. 'Pete's pretty fucked up, as well.'

  I tried to lift my head to look at her, but it seemed to weigh ten times its normal weight. There was something hanging down from my face.

  My hair, bun must have come undone, I tried to brush it back, but it was too heavy and too solid to be hair.

  'Don't touch your face, babes.' Her tone made my blood turn to ice. It was then I realised I couldn't see out of my left eye either. 'Let's ask him where John is and get the fuck out.'

  I couldn't have agreed with that more. I was utterly spent and knew that if shock set in whilst we were still near the bridge, I was going to die. My thoughts started dancing around, and I couldn't for the life of me work out why there were two of my hands.

  'Jesus,' Dawn's voice seemed to be deep and yet far away at the same time, 'you need to stay conscious, Jane.'

  Shaking my head to gather my thoughts was not one of the best ideas I've ever had. The pain was of an intensity I never imagined could exist. It made me throw up, which caused yet more pain. My hatred for Pete was now truly in the realms of odium. Still, it brought me back to my senses.

  Trying to stand was a mistake. My legs were shaking and the way that my torn flesh flapped against my face was utterly disgusting. Instead I settled for crawling over to Pete on all fours, Dawn helping me and muttering nice things as I cried and mewled at the pain. He wasn't far away, two feet at the most, but that was the longest two feet I've ever travelled. The hardest as well.

  'Fucking bitch!' Well, it was good to see he was still capable of talking. Things would have been really fucked up if I'd hurt him so badly that he couldn't tell me where John was. 'I can't stop my guts from falling out. Help me, you cunt.' Then again, perhaps losing the power of speech might have been a good thing.

  'Fuck's sake, you twat, this could have been avoided if you'd just told us where John was!' At least that's what I tried to say, but pain and the fact that he'd ripped half my face off made things difficult. By looking as far upward with my eyes as possible, I could see his scummy rat face twisting in confusion. Or pain. Probably both. I concluded that I felt as bad as he looked. Which meant I needed to get things done quickly and get to a healer as soon as I could. Preferably not in the UnderCity.

  I sighed and tried again. 'Where's John. I'll heal you.'

  'Heal me first, I'm bloody dying here. That bloody silver. Bitch. Fuck that hurts!'

  'Fuck you. John. Healing. Freedom.' I was struggling to think again. Giving my head the tiniest of shakes, I used the pain to banish the fuzziness.

  'Oh, my God, it won't go back in.' Whatever it was, I couldn't see, but there was a squelching sound and more gasps of pain from Pete, so I assumed it was something important. 'Fine. He's in Elsewhere, the Moonlit Refuge. Now, fucking heal me!'

  My eyes closed of their own volition. The Moonlit Refuge was an island in Elsewhere, which was controlled by Fachan. Utterly beautiful, it had a typically fairy-tale castle which was rumoured to be impregnable. Still, that was something to be worried about later. As blood dripped to the floor from the remains of my face, I was reminded that I needed to deal with Pete. Mostly because he was swearing at me and telling me to, ‘Hurry the fuck up, it hurts, you lesbo bitch.’

  Pacts, as agreed by the Trolls and Pete, are Magically binding. Usually, when one of the parties wants the pact to end, they must approach the other party and ask them to agree to Unbinding the Pact. Depending on the terms, they could break the Pact themselves, but usually the terms are so restrictive that it's not worth the risk. Banishment however, was a spell that well and truly broke a Pact and, fearing that Pete might have had a Pact in place, I'd prepared an Icon.

  Pacts are formed using the blood of those making them, and I was covered in it. Banishments are performed the same way and require the blood of the Pactees—whether that's a real word of not, I'm sticking with it—so I rubbed the Icon over the knuckles, and then placed it into the blood that was pooling by Pete's side.

  There was a pop, almost metaphysical, yet something that could be felt. Pete most certainly felt it.

  'Wha…? What the fuck have you done, you crazy cow! That wasn't a fucking Healing Icon!'

  'I know, you prick. It was a Banishment.' Roars filled the air; the Trolls had sensed the change in the Pact. 'Dawn, I need you to carry me out of here as quickly as possible. Eating helps Trolls heal.'

  'No! Don't leave me, please! They made me do it. Please!' He shrieked the words out as the roars of the Trolls grew louder, closer, and the smell of shit and piss filled the air.

  'You ambushed us. Burned my fucking Porsche, kidnapped our friend, and ripped my face off. Fuck. You.' I doubt he understood much of what I said through my destroyed face and over the roars of the Trolls, so I raised a hand and gave him the vee.'

  Dawn's hands settled on me, getting into position to lift me. 'Brace yourself, this is going to hurt.' It did. So much that everything went black. But not before I heard Pete's shrieks of pain as the Trolls started to eat him.

  Pete's death had taken a weight off my shoulders. I felt like skipping, laughing, and sleeping for a week all rolled into one. It wasn't that we'd reached John or really nailed down who was behind the attempt to release the Hell Hound, but we had taken an absolute piece of shit from the streets—legally too—whilst getting a firm lead and removing someone who had really been a thorn in our side.

  Covered in blood and other excreta, my torn face flapping about as I was, I decided to forgo the skipping part. Laughing was out of the question. I was in so much pain that even a chuckle was beyond me. There was no way that I could use the Healing Icon again. The rough and ready nature of them meant that tricky things such as facial nerve damage and restoring my former beauty was going to have to wait until we got to a proper Healer.

  'We need to get to the Merlins. Rear entrance to the RD&E. There are two doors to the A&E department. Go for the obviously Magical one,' I managed to whisper, whimper, and cry out. Agony seared me with every syllable.

  'Okay, but you'll be with me, won't you?' asked Dawn, stopping as she did so.

  'Yeah, going to black out. Smoke me a kipper, I'll be back for breakfast,' I said as my whole body fizzed and darkness raced over me.

  I came to as Dawn was still moving through the tunnels leading from the UnderCity. Flesh from my torn face slapped against it with every step she took, and I stared at the blood dripping down over her perfectly formed buttocks. Yes, even in that utterly fucked up state, I was able to appreciate the buttocks of the woman I was hopelessly, helplessly in love with.

  'Book Cover,' she jolted as I spoke and let out a little squeak.

>   'Christ, you scared the shit out of me!' Thankfully that was an exaggeration as my face would have been far too close to her arse if it had happened.

  'Book Cover. Don't want Merlins to see me like this.' I had a reputation to uphold, after all, and I didn't want to be anymore beholden to them than I already was. Treatment was costly in far more ways than just financial.

  'You do know that you told me to get you to the hospital, don't you?' I couldn't answer, so didn't. It just hurt too much. 'Fine. Think you can walk?' I noticed then that her breath was coming in pants and gasps. Being an Agent, I'm both fit and slim. However, a lot of that is muscle so I'm a little heavier than I look. Considering how far she'd carried me, I was impressed at how tired she didn't sound.

  I tried lifting my head. Pain. Lights. Stars. A little vomit.

  'Guess not then,' she said. 'Fine, Book Cover it is. Thank God it's nearly 2 a.m.' That threw me. It had been daylight when we entered the UnderCity, and late afternoon when we fought Pete. I'd been out for hours. Considering I had a head injury, that was really bad news. And then the fog descended once more, and I ceased caring.

  'Jane. Janey! Wake up.' Something kept tapping my face. I just wanted to sleep, but every time I started to get all warm and fuzzy, the tapping started. I tried flapping my hand at whatever it was, but it didn't seem to stop. 'Good girl, see if you can open your eyes for me.'

  Deciding that opening my eyes was a good idea, mainly because it might mean that the tapping stopped, I opened eyelids that seemed to weigh the same as a herd of obese elephants. Everything was blurred, but I could make out a face hovering above me. It was light-skinned, not black, so not Dawn.

  'Hello, my dear. Good to see you. Listen, I don't have the ability to heal you here. Not safely. And a quick heal might just tip you over the edge. We're going to have to get you to the hospital.' Squinting hard, I finally managed to sharpen the image slightly until I could see two Mrs. Lebowskis. The pain was so bad now that being beholden to the Merlins or having to pay a steep charge for my treatment meant nothing. I just wanted to get things over and done with.