Dark Descent

by Nicole R. Taylor

  Should’ve ditched him when I had the chance, I thought. The moment the train stops at the next station, I’m making a run for it. Then tomorrow, I’m going to make an appointment to get my meds checked. Demons and magic don’t exist.

  A man at the opposite end of the carriage caught my eye and smiled. I was immediately skeptical because tube etiquette stated you don’t make direct eye contact while commuting. I looked past him, then back again and tensed. I was sure his eyes had turned completely white, but then again, I also thought I was tripping.

  An announcement crackled over the speakers. ‘The next station is Moorgate. Alight here for the Metropolitan, Circle, and Hammersmith and City lines.’

  Wilder wasn’t looking at me. His head had lolled back and his arms were crossed over his chest, exuding total nonchalance.

  The train rocketed into the station, slowing until it came to a stop. The doors opened and I counted. One, two, three… I shot to my feet and bolted, leaping off the train and onto the platform.

  “Hey!” Wilder bellowed behind me, causing people to turn.

  I didn’t look back. I ran down the platform, following the exit signs. I took the stairs two at a time, then bolted up the escalators, brushing past commuters standing on the right. Emerging into the causeway, a hand grasped my arm and I turned. White eyes stared back at me and a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth grinned. I shrieked, causing the few late-night passengers and Underground employees to turn and stare. I tore away and vaulted over the barriers, determined not to look back.

  Outside, it was nearing midnight, and although London never really went to sleep, this part of the city was mostly empty. I looked left, then right, and when I heard Wilder calling out behind me, I sprinted to the right, mainly because it was the direction I was facing.

  Go away, go away, go away!

  I crossed a street, ignoring the red man on the traffic lights, the sound of pounding footsteps spurring me on. My thighs burned and my breath twisted my lungs, giving away how unfit I really was. Adrenalin and a little bit of fear were the only things driving me now.

  Darting down a side street, I looked for a place to slip into before Wilder could reach the corner, but I tripped and almost fell when I saw a man standing in the middle of the road, his head at an odd angle. I skidded and barrelled into a tight lane between two buildings, my heart galloping faster than it’d ever gone before.

  The sound of my boots hitting uneven cobblestones echoed around me, then I was on another street. Directly in front was a fenced off garden—one of those posh green spaces that was reserved for rich people who lived in equally posh houses around it. A wrought iron fence circled the entire thing, thick with green shiny paint and topped with narrowly spaced pointy bits. There was no way over, so I went left, slipping between two parked cars and onto the road.

  I gasped as a figure appeared in front of me and I skidded. Pivoting, I pushed to the left and legged it down the next side street.

  Unfortunately, Wilder was waiting for me.

  He held something in his hand, and when he saw me, he flicked his wrist and a blade came to life, twisting and shooting out a shower of white-hot sparks.

  “Get down!” he bellowed, striding in my direction.

  For a split-second, I thought he was talking to me, but I felt a gust of air from behind and my feet slipped out from underneath me. I landed with a thud, my breath wheezing, and Wilder leapt over me like an Olympic hurdler.

  He collided with something and sparks showered down around me. Covering my head with my arms, I shrieked as I saw him fend off a creature straight from the stuff nightmares were made of.

  It used to be a man, but its arms and knees were all bent backwards and it was crawling around like a spider, its head twisted at an odd angle and its teeth… I almost puked into the gutter. Its mouth was full of razor sharp points and a black, forked tongue waved about, dripping giant globules of saliva on the asphalt. Its eyes flashed white, its shirt was torn, the paisley tie it’d been wearing was flapping about as it skittered over a parked car, emitting an awful clicking sound as it went.

  It seemed too fast for Wilder, who was swiping at it with his sword. The demon hunter was leaping and twisting like a ninja, dodging blows from clawed hands. The air vibrated as the pair collided, and the creature—what I was assuming was a demon at this point—closed its jaws around Wilder’s sword and crunched. White sparks burst out of its mouth, and it wailed in pain, but didn’t let go.

  “Bastard!” Wilder shouted. He pushed back against it one more time, then the blade disappeared in a shower of white sparks.

  My expression turned into one of dread as what was left of the sword was knocked from his hand and clattered onto the road. The blade skidded across the footpath and what remained of the hilt landed at my feet. Wilder let out a roar and shoved his shoulder into the demon’s chest and heaved. It went flying, tumbling down the road over and over, until it sprung back up and launched itself towards him with alarming speed.

  Without thinking, I picked up the bladeless sword. Holding it up to the light, I wondered if this was another one of those invisible things until my touch seemed to activate something. The end of the handle erupted as the sword emerged from its sheath, the blade flashing a brilliant purple as it snapped into shape. Links unfurled and scales clicked together in a shower of purple sparks.

  “What the…” I whispered, almost dropping the sword on the ground. It was as long as my arm!

  “Purples!” Wilder shouted, scrambling backwards.

  The creature’s mouth widened, saliva dripping from its teeth as it darted after Wilder. It leapt and Wilder rolled to the side, the creature’s claws cracking the flagstone where he’d been a moment before.

  If it got Wilder, then I was next. In a situation like this, there was only one thing I had the sense to do. Yeah, that run headfirst into danger thing. Again.

  I grasped the sword and rushed forward with a cry. The demon spun, making a horrid clicking sound and launched towards me. It galloped, its limbs twisting and rolling in its haste to tear apart some tasty human flesh. I let out a squeak, then swiped the blade at it. It dodged and I twisted before it raised its claws.

  I swung the sword back in a swift arc, and by some miracle, the steel sliced through the creature’s arm. I didn’t even feel the moment when it cut, but purple sparks lit up the street as the blade severed flesh and bone. The demon screamed, then went for broke. I ducked low, its hind leg kicking me in the back of the head as it tumbled over me, and I fell to the ground.

  Wilder was in front of the demon, sinking his knife into its shoulder.

  “Purples!” he cried, his hand outstretched, but I only had eyes for the thing that was trying its best to eat my soul.

  I pushed to my feet, my arse throbbing, and I raised the sword. With a cry, I plunged it into the demon’s back, aiming for the place I supposed its heart might’ve been—if it had one. The creature screeched, its head reared back, then it burst into a fireball that emitted a stench so foul it almost made me retch.

  Stumbling back a step, I gasped as the flames dissipated and I realised there was nothing left of the demon. The whole thing had just disintegrated in a whoosh, leaving a weird scorch mark on the ground.

  “Are you all right?” Wilder asked.

  “No!” I rubbed the back of my head, my breath still evading capture. “What was that thing?”

  “A lesser demon.”

  “There’s more than one kind?” I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, my skin all clammy despite the icy chill in the air.

  “The plot thickens,” he drawled, putting his knife back into his boot. “You shouldn’t have run, you know.”

  I let out a frustrated cry and squashed down the urge to skewer him, too.

  “The blade shouldn’t have worked either,” Wilder added, taking it from me. The moment he touched it, it recoiled, disappearing into the hilt.

  “Why not? It’s just a sword.” That clicked into shape l
ike a Transformer with an angle grinder.

  “It’s not just a sword. It’s an arondight blade.”

  “Aron-what?” I scratched my head, glancing to where the creature had been a moment before. Was it just me, or was the scorch mark beginning to fade, too?

  “Arondight blades are forged with the power to slay demons,” he explained. “Arondight was the blade given to… Ah, forget it.”

  “Wilder,” I said, my voice shaking, “you can’t…”

  “I can’t what?”

  “That just happened,” I exclaimed, pointing to the concrete. “You can’t brush me off anymore.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I assumed you didn’t care after your acrobatic manoeuvre on the tube.”

  But he’d cared enough to follow me. Why was that?

  “This has nothing to do with my meds, does it?” I asked, burrowing into my jacket as I started to tremble. “I’m not tripping or having a psychotic break. This is real, right? You’re real?”

  “Last time I checked.” He snorted and slid the bladeless handle thingy into a pocket on the inside of his jacket. “I’ve never seen anyone leap a barrier at a tube station like that.”

  “Wilder.”

  “What? You were the one who ran. My work here is done.” He turned and went to stalk away, but I grasped his arm and wrenched him back.

  “I’m not going to run away again. Like it or not, this is a problem.” I gestured wildly to myself, him, and the empty spot where the demon had been. “The second time in as many days, FYI. A little clarity wouldn’t go astray.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re not on an acid trip, Purples? It would be easier to up the med dosage than to embark on an annoyingly violet-tinted odyssey.”

  “Wilder!”

  “Fine. Let’s walk.” He sighed and gestured for me to follow him. “We need to clear out anyway.”

  I was forced to trot to catch up to him, but easily fell into step this time. The street was empty apart from a few empty night busses that rolled by.

  “We call ourselves Naturals,” Wilder said as we passed a row of clothing shops.

  “Naturals?” I asked, my stomach doing a little flip. “There’s nothing natural about any of this.”

  Wilder narrowed his eyes. “To you, maybe.”

  “That… spider demon thing back there… He was on the train with us, wasn’t he?”

  “It,” Wilder corrected. “And yes. You provoked it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It would’ve left us alone if you’d stayed put. It knew what I was.”

  I stopped in front of a H&M and leaned against the wall, my chest constricting. Monsters, invisible people, funky swords that shot out sparks, hot guys stalking people—it was too much. This couldn’t be real, which meant I was losing my mind. After all these years dealing with the loss of my parents, acting out, going to shrinks, self-medicating, and dealing with depression, I was finally at my wits’ end. I mean, I spaced out a little from time to time, but never like this. One second, I was okay with all this, and the next… Something was definitely wrong.

  “Purples,” Wilder said, grasping my shoulders.

  “I can’t… I can’t…”

  “Breathe, okay? I don’t want you throwing up on my boots.”

  “Scarlett,” I wheezed, realising he’d never wanted to know who I was. “My name is Scarlett.”

  “Red and purple, huh?” he mused, glancing up and down the street. “Aren’t you a rainbow.”

  I moaned and slid down the wall until I was crouching. I’d forgotten to take my tablets at dinnertime, which is why I was having a mini-breakdown. Wilder said this was real, but what if he was still screwing with me?

  “Shite,” he cursed, looking at me like I was a problem he didn’t want to deal with. “We’re getting a taxi.”

  “Why do you care?” I asked, shoving my head between my knees, knowing I was exhausted, starving, and having a panic attack that was honestly overdue. “Just leave me alone. I can get back by myself.”

  “There you go wanting to put your head in the sand again. It’s so human of you.” He sighed sharply and knelt in front of me. “I can’t leave you out here like this.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “No, I can’t,” he snapped. “You’re in this now, Scarlett. As much as I don’t need the drama, I’m oath bound. I have to get you home at least.”

  I glanced up. He called me Scarlett.

  “C’mon.” He offered me his hand.

  I stared at him.

  “If you hadn’t killed that demon…” He grimaced. “Well, let’s just say I need to repay the favour.”

  “You won’t…” I glanced at his boot, where I knew he’d stashed his murder knife.

  “No,” he said, “I won’t hurt you. That knife is reserved for actual demons, not she-devils.”

  I snorted and reluctantly curled my fingers around his, knowing I didn’t have anything to fear from the guy. Not when I now knew there were worse things out there.

  5

  I was exhausted by the time the cab dropped us off in front of my flat.

  “This is your house?” Wilder asked, staring up at the terraced house that looked like all the other terraced houses on the street—bland and unremarkable.

  “It’s the top flat,” I said with a grimace.

  “You don’t even have the whole thing?”

  “No, and it’s Jackson’s flat. I just live there.”

  Wilder snorted.

  I sighed and fished in my pocket for my keys.

  “You’ve got a little…” He waved his hand at me.

  Looking down, I realised the front of my jumper was splattered with something dark. Demon blood. Or the tears of my internal frustration leaking out of every pore on my body.

  “I’ve had enough,” I whispered, holding out the front of my jumper so I could inspect the damage.

  “You’ll have to speak up, I might be a Natural, but I don’t have super hearing.”

  “I said, I’ve had enough!” I shouted at him. Somewhere in the distance, a dog started to bark.

  Wilder snorted. “Evidently, so has that dog.”

  “I’ve had my memory wiped, I’ve been attacked my demons, I stabbed a human-spider-hybrid thing through the heart with a magical sword, I was led on a wild goose chase by a troll doll…” I sucked in breath after breath, oxygen hissing through my teeth.

  “Don’t go frothing at the mouth, Purples.”

  “And I’ve had to put up with your awful personality for far longer than any sane human could tolerate!”

  “Didn’t you mention something about meds?” Wilder asked, tilting his head to the side.

  “You’re such a piece of—”

  “We better get you inside, Purples,” he interrupted. “Once you’re in, you’ll be rid of me.”

  I clenched my fist around my key. “Will you do that alteration thing on me again?”

  “Up to you, though it’s probably a waste of time. You’d be better off finding that pill bottle of yours.”

  I was far too exhausted to argue with the guy, so I stalked up the front steps and unlocked the door. Inside, it was dark and stank of mould. The house was so old, it seemed like it was rotting away most days. The owner of the flat downstairs was far too cheap to do anything about the dampness of the house, even though Jackson had been asking for years.

  “It smells like a wet cat in here,” Wilder said, wrinkling his nose. “Which flat is yours?”

  “Upstairs.” I climbed upward, completely agreeing with his assessment. When I reached the landing, I stopped dead in my tracks, a shiver racing over my body like something cold had rushed past me. Placing my foot on the first step of the next flight, I saw the front door to the flat was open.

  “Usually people lock their front doors,” Wilder said, stating the obvious.

  “Duh.”

  “Wait here,” he said with an authoritative grunt.

  Ignoring him, I ran up t
he last dozen stairs and pushed into the hallway beyond.

  “Jackson?” I called out to the dark apartment. “Jackson?”

  A thump from within drew my gaze to his bedroom door and I rushed forward, passing my room before reaching his. The air temperature fell the farther I went, causing my breath to vaporise. It wasn’t that cold outside and the radiator should be on.

  Nudging open Jackson’s bedroom door, I saw a writhing mass on his bed and yelped. I flipped on the light and a rush of brightness filled the space and my yelp turned into a cry.

  “Holy shite!”

  Jackson was laying on his bed, fully clothed, twisting and turning, his sheets a tangled mess beneath him. He gritted his teeth and turned his head, muttering under his breath. When his gaze met mine, his eyes were completely white.

  An arm wrapped around my waist and yanked me backwards. I slammed into a hard chest and began to wriggle.

  “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Wilder murmured against my ear.

  “Let go of me!” I exclaimed, desperate to get to Jackson. He was overdosing or having a fit or something. I didn’t want to acknowledge the bit where another person had blank eyes just like that earlier in the evening.

  “Your friend has been possessed.”

  I broke free of Wilder’s grasp and turned to glare at him. “Possessed?”

  He flipped his knife in his hands and pointed the tip towards my best friend. “That’s what that is, just so you know.”

  “But…”

  Wilder raised an eyebrow, unimpressed over the whole scene, which only made me want to slap him. Hard.

  “His head isn’t going to turn around is it?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

  Wilder shrugged, picking paint off the doorjamb with his knife. “It might.”

  “It might?” I shrieked. “Get it out of him!”

  “Wait, a moment ago you were telling me all the things that were wrong with me, and now you think it’s a completely sane thing to go around asking strangers to perform exorcisms. Where was the part where you accepted all of this, because I think I might’ve missed it.”