by Hunter Blain
Lily thought about this for a moment before taking in a deep breath and saying, “You are free from my previous commands. When you face Ulric, you are free to do whatever you wish.”
“Wow,” I said dumbstruck. “I was not expecting that.” She was trusting me to not cause the apocalypse by killing Ulric. That is to say, get lucky enough to even be able to kill him, again. Pretty sure I had better odds as a lifeguard in the middle of summer than being able to get impossibly lucky for a third time. Either way, Lily was showing me the ultimate trust in a situation where I didn’t even trust myself to do the right thing. Maybe I should see a therapist about my emotions or something.
“Don’t make me regret this, John,” Lily said. She took a half step forward before returning to her stance, as if she had been going in for an embrace. Though I longed to feel her arms around me, I was not ready to forgive her; but that was my damn pride talking. I gritted my teeth and stepped forward, beating my pride in this tiny battle, and wrapped my arms around Lily, who gave a little gasp before relaxing and throwing herself into my embrace. It felt good. Not only because of my growing affection for her, but because I had taken a step in controlling one of my faults.
I breathed in her hair, which smelled of flowers, before breaking the embrace and walking to the door.
“John,” Lily started, unsure of her next words. I turned to look into her beautiful eyes. “Be careful, okay?”
“No promises,” I said as I turned back to the door and made my way outside. Then I went back inside and past Lily, who stared at me in confusion. I opened my bedroom door and grabbed my spare pair of boots, putting them on after a fresh pair of socks hugged my feet.
Walking out of my room and to the front door again, I looked at Lily, who was smiling, and I shrugged. I stopped undead in my tracks and palmed my forehead, hard. Turning—again—I went past Lily, who was now shaking her head with a smile, and stepped into my room. Opening my closet door, I selected a super nice and thick hoodie. I had used it a few times in the past when Da had been fixing my trench coat, and its thickness stood up to how hard I was on clothes. Being faster than Superman came at a cost. You really had to spend the pretty penny on high-quality clothes.
Standing outside, my mind raced, digesting and organizing everything Lily had said. She had helped to make Ulric, and me. She loved Ulric, at least once. I had no choice but to trust that she was now on my side and not of the immortal man’s she had known for a handful of centuries longer than me. That was a big damn pill to swallow.
As I made my way toward Ulric’s place in the national park, I thought about what I could possibly do to stop him without dying or killing him. My only hope was to reason with him, which I knew in my heart would not go over well. Different scenarios played out in my mind, most of which ended in Ulric attacking. Fuck! Da and Locke were supposed to have another plan for me. A plan that probably wasn’t going to work, just like the first one.
“Why the fuck am I doing this?” I cried out as I came to stop at the edge of the park.
“Doing what?” a casual voice came from the trees.
“Who’s there?” I demanded, willing a sword and stepping into a defensive stance.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, man. You don’t need that.” The voice reminded me of Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski.
“I’m not playing. Don’t test me right now!” I called out, searching for the source of the voice.
“Over here, dude,” the voice said with complete ease. I saw movement by a large tree and slowly stepped toward it, letting my eyes shift to have a better view.
What I came upon made me stop in disbelief. A tree waved at me as my eyes followed the split trunk up to a face that had moss and herbs growing from it like a long goatee. It looked down at me and smiled warmly.
“What’s up, man?” he said.
“Oh, shit. A talking tree,” I said, rubbing my eyes as if to clear them of this ridiculous sight. He was easily twenty feet tall.
“Treant, man. I’m a treant. I protect these trees and all the life inside,” he said as he pulled some herbs from his face that looked oddly familiar and put them between his wooden thumb and forefinger. He ground the herbs together until they were almost a powder and dropped them into a rolled-up piece of bark he pulled from his forearm.
“Do ya mind?” he said, holding the organic joint out to me.
“Uh…huh?” I asked, confused.
“Lite it, bro.”
“Ah.” I focused and excited the molecules at the end of the joint and it began glowing orange.
“Thanks, man,” the treant said as he brought the weed up to his mouth and took several long drags. He inhaled deeply as he spoke, trying to not let any smoke out just yet, “Vampire, huh? I knew it.” He bent and offered the joint to me as he exhaled.
“Um, no, thanks. I try not to take supernatural drugs from strangers.”
“Preternatural, man. I am of this plane,” he said as he coughed out a laugh, still holding his offering out to me.
“I really can’t. I’m about to go fight someone who is older and stronger and I kinda need to be able to focus and shit. Know what I mean?”
“This will help you focus, my friend. I sense great fear in you. And as you know, fear leads to anger. Anger leads—”
“Are you quoting Star Wars at me right now, tree?” I asked incredulously.
“Does it matter if it is? Shit’s still on point. You have a lot of fear in you, and this will help you calm down and clear your mind. Help you see things that you couldn’t see before,” he said, still holding the joint with the smoldering end pointed toward him. “I may be a creature of Faerie, but I was born on this plane, alright? This shit right here,” he said, shaking the joint at me, “is not your mortal weed. It’s magic.”
“I don’t really believe in magic.”
“Said the fucking vampire talking to a fucking tree,” he said ironically. “Name’s Richard, by the way.”
“Richard the tree?”
“Treant, man. I’m a fucking treant. And yeah, I like Richard, so that’s my name.” I looked at him doubtingly before he said, “Look, you can call me Tiffany if you like. What’s in a name? When you grow as old as me, you—”
“Break up the monotony of existence,” I finished, recalling an earlier conversation with Valenta.
“Yeah, man. You get it. Now, are you going to take a hit off this and calm yourself before you go storming the castle?”
I grabbed the joint—which looked comical in my hand, as if it had been made by a twenty-foot-tall Snoop Dogg. “How did you know what I was here for?”
“I know a lot more than most creatures would give me credit for, man. That is, until they get to know me.” There was a gleam in his eye that hinted that he was far wiser than he was letting on.
Shrugging in placation, I took a small hit off the Fae joint, held it in, and then let it out in a long exhale.
“There ya go, man. Soon you’ll be feeling right as rain.”
“May I partake?” asked a familiar voice. Startled, I turned while coughing up a lung to see Gabriel standing behind me at human height and in his nice charcoal suit.
I held up the joint in question with a raised eyebrow, to which the angel nodded. “You are allowed to do the marijuana?” I asked playfully.
“Who created the plant? Hmm? Oh, right, it was Father.” I handed the joint over to him and watched in awe as he took a large hit. As he sucked in and held his breath, he said without letting any smoke out, “Dad created the human body and put intricate receptors that are made specifically to receive this.” He exhaled the smoke and held up the Fae weed, appreciatingly. “This was supposed to be a practical cure-all for mortals, and what did they do? They created harmful pharmaceuticals that weren’t needed to mask symptoms instead of fixing the problem. On top of that, I know Richard has the best stuff. How are you doing, my old friend?”
“Good, man. Living the life.” He turned his attention to me and said, “Just try
ing to make sure this one doesn’t do anything stupid and kill everything in existence.”
As he spoke, a calm washed over me, starting at the top of my head. It felt like a blanket enveloping me, stilling my agitated nerves. I felt…peaceful. I didn’t feel the giggles come on like TV would have you believe. Instead, I felt…prepared. I knew I had to save my friends while preventing the end of times.
“John,” Gabe said, stepping in front of me after passing the faerie joint back to Richard. “You are free to make any decision you want in the universe. It’s the consequences you can’t avoid. Remember that.”
It all came together then. Lily trying to protect me from myself while still providing me with the freedom to choose. Gabriel showing up to warn me of the consequences of my actions. The fate of the world and every soul that had ever existed throughout all of time depended on me. In this moment of clarity, I became aware that I was my own biggest enemy, and not even PS. PS was me. My anger had been a constant veil that blurred my path, which only served to infuriate me further. It was a vicious cycle that I knew I could end when I really wanted to. The truth was that it felt good to give in to my pride and hurt those who hurt me, to the point where I would cut off my nose to spite my face.
This was bigger than me and my petty problems. Ulric was waiting for me, and I knew I had to face him. Now that my mind was still, something nagged at me—something Lily had said.
“That’s it!” I said excitedly as I turned to face the angel, Gabriel. “I know what I have to do.”
“Excellent,” Gabriel said with a smile as I turned to go face Ulric. “One thing before you go.”
“What?” I asked.
“A test, mostly for my own curiosity. I’ve seen what you can do to angels and creatures from this plane and others,” he said as a flaming sword manifested in his hand. The light shone bright, almost blinding, to the point where I shielded my eyes. “Sorry about that,” he said as the flames dimmed to a low but constant flicker across the gladius. “Here,” he said as he turned the weapon over, holding the hilt out to me. I took note that the heavenfire didn’t burn him where it touched his body. I looked at him with a shocked expression, which he found humorous. “It’s just a weapon, like many others you have held in your hands. Now, try and take it, for my own intrigue.”
I did as instructed and grabbed the hilt of the blade. As soon as I lifted the sword from Gabriel’s grasp, the flame went out after contact was broken.
I looked at the blade, confusion evident on my face as Gabriel said, “Oh, well. It was worth a shot. I owe one of my brothers five dollars now.” As he finished, he reached out and took the blade back, which immediately vanished.
“What did you think was going to happen?” I asked Gabriel.
“I don’t really know. That’s why I wanted to see. Besides, it might be the last time we get to try.”
“No, it won’t,” I said as I turned once again to face Ulric. As I leaped through the forest, I called over my shoulder, “Thank you for the enlightenment, Richard. I will come back to see you again!”
“Peace, man!” I heard the treant call back.
“Consequences,” was whispered into my ears by the wind, though it sounded suspiciously like this angel I happened to know.
In short order, I arrived at Ulric’s lame aboveground fortress. Depweg, Joey, and Dawson were there, standing stark naked on a handmade wooden bench with their hands tied behind their backs. Around their necks were silver cords that formed a noose and rose into the branches of a tree above. I followed the ends to see that they were anchored around the trunk of a tree. I didn’t think the silver was being used to actually hang the werewolves, but to prevent them from shifting to their were forms. They would die if hung by the neck in their man-suits.
“Jesus Christ, John. Where have you been? He’s had us standing here since dusk,” Depweg said.
“Hang in there, guys. I got this.” At that, all three let out a moan of annoyed frustration at the joke.
“Welcome to the end, John,” Ulric said as he stepped from the shadows and into the light cast down from the spotlights around his stolen home.
“Which end?” I asked, probing how much he knew. Maybe if he knew the true impact of what was to come, he would rethink his actions.
“Yours, child,” Ulric said coldly.
“Well, come on then,” I said flatly, showing no emotion. My hands were steady as they hung by my sides.
“Gladly,” Ulric responded, raising his hands to either side of his body. Nothing happened at first, and then a rumble sounded in the distance. There were thuds of impact that sounded like they should have been in a particular Steven Spielberg franchise.
From the tree line burst a giant demon, clad in obsidian armor, with glowing red eyes that expelled fumes from its sockets and over a horned helmet. Lilith, he was over fifteen feet tall and dragged a sword behind him that was just as long as he was tall. It was jagged, being made from obsidian and forged in the forges of Hell. I was quite confident that it was also infused with hellfire.
My confidence began to wane as two more broke through the tree line on either side of the first. One of his brothers hefted a double-sided ax with blades the size of a car’s hood while the other carried an enormous mace with spikes all over it.
Normally I would lose control over my faculties and make a little teetee or even poopoo, but the fate of the world was resting on my shoulders. It was time to man up and face my destiny head-on. In addition, what Richard had given me and Gabriel had convinced me to try had really steadied my nerves and kept my mind focused.
I didn’t wait to react like I normally would. I rushed the demons, pulling out a bloodgladius in one hand and a circular shield in the other. For shits and giggles, I put Captain America’s emblem in the middle, which surprisingly gave me more confidence. Good thing I looked exactly like Chris Evans, too. Well, truthfully, it was more like Chris Hemsworth in Avengers: Endgame.
The demons were surprised at my charge—as was Ulric, who stood, shocked. All three demons quickly regained their composure and charged in a V-pattern for a tactical advantage. The mace-wielding demon lifted his weapon high to attack, and I threw my shield at his throat while keeping a fishing line’s width of blood attached. This helped with both retrieval and maintaining the connection. As it smashed home, the demon dropped his hands and clutched at his throat, dropping the mace behind him. I willed my shield back to me by reeling in the line as I thrust my blade at the chest of the surprised beast. My sword bounced off his obsidian armor, throwing me in a spin to my right. I went with the momentum, allowing the blade to be swallowed by my hand as I reached for the mace at the completion of my turn. I hefted it, admiring its weight, as the ax-wielding demon swung down. I risked pouring a lot of energy into the shield and held it up at an angle. I knew that if he made a direct hit with his hellfire-infused weapon I would lose the energy in the shield and my arm, as he would surely slice through, probably even right through me. My plan worked and the blade ricocheted off the shield and embedded itself into the ground with a resounding thud that was felt as much as heard. I used the opportunity to swing the mace down on his helmeted head with the force of Valhalla. As he looked up at me in wide-eyed rage, the mace made contact and took the demon to the ground with ease, obsidian spikes piercing both the helmet and his brain. The giant corpse collapsed to the ground, unmoving.
A sword connected with my mace-wielding wrist, severing my hand. I was astonished at how numbly I reacted to the pain before backhanding the sword beast in the face with my impossibly hard shield. His head whipped back in surprise and pain as hellion blood shot from his broken nose and torn lips. Shattered teeth sprinkled to the ground in a way that reminded me of fish food over a tank for some reason.
A large pair of hands reached around my chest and pulled me in for a bear hug. I dropped the shield and stuck my hand under the arms of the mace demon before he fully took hold. He grabbed each of his forearms across my chest as my bac
k met his armored torso. I took in a huge, deep breath before he began squeezing and did my best to keep my chest expanded; but this son of a bitch was strong, and I could feel my lungs about to burst like balloons under the pressure. The monster grunted with effort as he began to make headway, air escaping through my clenched teeth with each second that passed. This allowed the sword demon with the pretty face time to regain his senses after I’d bashed the front of his skull in. He picked up his blade and positioned himself to ram it into me, smiling—at least I think he was. His grin resembled a dilapidated graveyard with neglected tombstones crumbling to pieces.
An idea struck as I remembered in a flash what Lily had forced me to do in the alley. I focused on my hand sandwiched between his crushing arms and my chest. Concentrating, I began to fill my fingers and palm with blood. I could feel him struggling to hold on as his grip weakened, my hand becoming the size of a softball then a bowling ball. It hurt. Not only because of the expanding hand that felt like it was about to explode and had to keep healing so it wouldn’t rupture but also because my ribs were beginning to crack and cave inward.
As the sword demon stepped forward and thrust his blade at my chest, I sucked in all the blood from my hand in a fraction of a second while emptying my lungs in a rush, momentarily creating room between his bear hug and my broken chest. I slipped down toward the ground as the blade stabbed and cut through the top of my shoulder. As intended, the mace demon got the full brunt of the attack. The sword baddy crashed into his brother and they tumbled to the ground, both screaming but for vastly different reasons.
I tried to will my wound closed in the brief reprieve, but the hellfire prevented that for now. I had precious seconds before the battle was to continue, so I focused on growing my other hand back. Only one itsy-bitsy problem: it was also burned by the stupid hellfire. I lifted my stump hand into the air while yanking my shield back into my good hand, willing the edges to become razor sharp. My eyes shot to the stump above my wrist, and I mechanically raised my shield arm at the elbow and brought it down above the hellfire-burned flesh, allowing nontainted flesh to regrow my favorite hand. The remaining demon began picking himself up after he’d overextended his attack and fell on top of his now very dead brother. Extremely dead, even.