by Hunter Blain
“You good?” I asked Taylor, who seemed like he was struggling to come out of a daze.
“Yes. Yes, I think so,” he answered.
“Good. Let’s go check on King Dickhead.”
As we began to make our way over to where Oberon clutched his knee, Taylor said, “Remember, he was tricked by Lolth.”
“I know. But I also know that he was a prisoner under Mab and wanted revenge. So I doubt it was hard to convince him to join the dark side.” I was growing angry at the thought. So much so that I didn’t even catch the Star Wars reference that I had made.
We stopped a few feet in front of him and he looked at us with bewildered eyes. I scrunched my face in disgust as I peered down my nose at the defeated King of Faerie.
“What…where am I?” he asked with a shaky voice. Oberon looked at Taylor and seemed to collect himself at the sight of something familiar. “TalGoid, what has happened to me?”
“Your Highness…” Taylor explained the entire situation. How Lolth had somehow tricked him into being infected with her darkness, granting the goddess direct influence over him. Taylor explained to a teary-eyed Oberon about how he had killed both Tatiana and Mab, throwing this plane and Midworld into a season of lifeless cold. He told him about the black hole that had been destined for Earth, and how I had just saved his life, Taylor’s, and even Yggdrasil’s.
“Take off that armor,” I demanded as soon as Taylor was finished.
Oberon looked down at himself, as if seeing the armor for the first time, and began removing the pieces one by one, struggling with his bad leg. I smiled as he winced and cried out in pain while removing that which did not belong to him. He sat the pieces in a pile in the center of the circle we created with our bodies, and looked up at us.
“I-I guess I have a lot of work ahead of me. I can make this right. Faerie needs its king, and the Seelie and Unseelie Courts must be governed to maintain balance.” He looked at me, daring to speak with someone who was infinitely his superior in every respect, and said, “I’m sorry for all that I have do—” I rushed forward and grabbed him by his pathetic throat. I could feel my eyes spilling red-and-green plumes of hatred as I bared fangs that were too long to be mine. My nose and ears tingled as I squeezed, closing his airway.
“John! What are you doing?” Taylor demanded, but he was miles away right then. All my focus was on this piece of shit that wasn’t worth the air he tried so desperately to inhale.
I willed my gladius to life, coating it in red-and-green hellfire, before lifting it above his face. Pointing the blade straight down toward his gaping mouth, I released the tension on his throat and slammed the blade down its new sheath as Oberon sucked in his last breath. The hilt stuck out of his mouth as I began turning the blade back and forth while frantic hands scrambled over my chest and face, trying to push me away. I began a low laugh as the hellfire ate at his insides, with flames erupting out of his mouth like a geyser. Then his nose, ears, and eyes began shooting the green-and-red flames skyward as his body began to crumple. Muscles tightened as water inside boiled and evaporated, shrinking the tendons, ligaments, and muscle fibers until Oberon was reduced to a smoldering ember that looked like beef jerky that had been left to cook for far too long.
I pulled the blade out, letting the flames dance their victory, and ran my tongue up the length of the blade in a show of dominance.
“What have you done?” Taylor asked slowly, covering his mouth with both hands in horror as he took slow steps back.
Turning eyes that were now made of pure hellfire to regard the foolish elf, I said with a voice that was too scratchy and high-pitched to be mine, “How dare you ask what I’ve done. HOW DARE YOU. I am immortal. I am the savior of all creation. All who has ever lived, and all that will ever be, owes their life to me. Man will bow before their new god and worship me,” I snarled with a throat that belonged to a horror movie monster.
“John…your face,” Taylor said with disgust and terror in his eyes as he stumbled backward.
I gained some semblance of control and lifted a hand to feel my face. My nose was gone, leaving behind slits. My ears still tingled, and I was surprised to find my helmet had created gaps where my now pointy ears extended from my head.
I turned the gleaming blade over to its flat side and willed the flames to spread out so I could see my reflection. What stared back at me was a monster born from a demon and a bat.
“I-I,” I stammered before something clicked. I slammed my consciousness inside the control room of my mind and felt dread when a fully clad Baleius smiled at me from under a celestial helmet.
Baleius! Stop! I cried as I reached for his hand on the wheel. With impossibly fast reflexes, he snatched my wrist before throwing me across the room. I slammed into the wall, knocking my favorite Batman poster to the ground. The glass shattered as the frame broke.
Wide-eyed, I turned to see the horrifying bat demon striding over to me with a determined look etched into his features.
I am in charge now, puny human. I am the fallen angel Baleius, reunited with armor forged by Father himself. I have the power to bend the universe to my will and force the mortals to cower at my feet.
God will stop you, I said meekly as I tried to get to my feet. Baleius blurred over to where I was and lifted me by my neck. I was but a small child, shadowed by the might and will of a vengeful adult.
Father will not intervene. Look at my brother Samael. What makes you think he will lift a holy finger to stop my reign.
He won’t have to. I’ll stop you, I said with complete confidence. I was done doubting myself.
Baleius laughed before tossing me to the center of the room, the steering wheel catching me in the gut painfully. Something Lachesis said rang throughout my head like a church bell.
“You are being kept in the dark by those you trust,” she had said.
It didn’t have to be this way, I said with sadness growing. I trusted you.
It was all a game, you naive fool. You did EXACTLY as I wanted you to.
Not everything, I whispered, knowing this was going to be a lose-lose situation.
I placed a hand on the wheel and raced outside the control room and back into my conscious self. Letting the gladius wink out, I placed my hands on either side of my head, and lifted the helmet off.
I sucked in air and felt my heart begin to beat as I broke the connection and erased my vampirism.
23
What just happened?” Taylor asked with concern as I stared at the ground with unfocused, somber eyes.
“I was betrayed,” I said weakly, fighting back the nausea I felt in my empty stomach. Dizziness threatened to let me fall to the ground.
Taylor saw something was wrong and rushed to support me.
“I don’t understand. Why did you take off the helmet?”
“Baleius was too strong with the armor on. I couldn’t stop him. So I did the only thing I could.” The words Lachesis had uttered ricocheted in my brain, “Your greatest strength is also your greatest weakness.”
“Who’s Baleius?” Taylor asked, shaking his head and squinting his eyes, trying to understand.
I explained about my Predatory Self and how Ulric had passed a demon into my dying body, forever infusing it with my flesh…and my soul.
“Guess I really will be going to Hell,” I said to no one in particular. If Lachesis had been right about the armor and Baleius…oh, Lilith, that also meant I was going to kill Magni.
My knees buckled and only Taylor kept me upright. He began taking me somewhere, but I didn’t know where. My head bobbed up and down, with my chin hitting my chest as sorrow kept me in a vegetative state.
I was placed in a warm bed as my armor was removed and replaced with thick blankets. I didn’t try and fight sleep, choosing instead to cannonball into unconsciousness like a fat kid at the community pool.
My dreams were random and unfocused, like staring out a windshield while it rained without turning the wipers on.
&
nbsp; More than a few times, the gaping maw of Lolth flew toward me from the darkness, swallowing me whole.
Then Baleius was there, sitting on a throne made of decimated carcasses, with bones littering the ground for as far as the eye could see. The sky was blood red, and the black smoke billowing from far away fires strangled the clouds above. Horns grew from my…his head, because it was no longer my body. He looked like a more pronounced version of the bat demon I had seen in the reflection of the gladius.
Magni’s innocent face appeared to me. It was no longer childlike, having just reached full maturity. I watched as I bit into his neck and began drinking his precious blood. His face went white and eyes became unfocused as I drained him dry, killing him.
I thought about Godwin and how I had been next on the chopping block after my mother. Ulric had saved me, only to be repaid in fire.
Lily was kissing me, stroking my hair and whispering that everything would be alright. That I should trust her. Then she led me to the gates of Hell and watched as I descended into the fiery pits.
I was falling through the Earth and into the flames of Hell below. I screamed. I screamed in terror. I screamed in pain. I screamed with uncertainty. I screamed for all that I had lost, for all that I had done. I deserved to burn in Hell.
24
Taylor gently shook my shoulder until I awoke. I couldn’t remember a time when my eyelids had been as heavy as they were at that moment.
I moaned a monosyllabic question that I had intended to sound like, “Pardon me, good sir. I am desperately trying to catch up on the rest I so urgently need. What might I do for you at this moment?” but I’m sure it sounded more like, “Uuuuuuuhhhnnn?”
My lips were cracked and throat was hoarse. Taylor lifted a wooden cup to my face and tilted it until the cool liquid spilled over. As soon as the contents touched my lips, I found renewed energy and tried to gulp the nectar of the gods.
“Slowly, John. You don’t want to make yourself sick.”
Sick? Who the hell did he think he was talking to? Vampires didn’t get sick.
My red-rimmed eyes looked up at Taylor, who had traded his armor for silken clothes that looked modern minus the fabric choice.
He pulled the cup away from me and I reached out with numb hands to try and grab his wrists.
“More,” I croaked. “More blood.”
Taylor smiled, but there was no humor in his eyes.
“It’s water,” he said softly.
I turned my attention from the cup to his face to study his expression. He wasn’t lying.
“What?” I asked dubiously, shifting my focus back to the cup that now seemed more mysterious than any artifact or relic ever discovered. “How?” My sluggish mind raced to find answers, but it was so hard to think. All I wanted to do was sleep. Yes, sleep. That sounded nice.
My eyes blinked as my head became too heavy to support, and I lay back on the softest pillow I had ever felt. Then sleep took me in its loving embrace.
The sound of footsteps echoed outside the wooden door of the room I was in, prompting me to pop an angry eye open and glare at it. I willed whomever had heavy feet to go away. Before my eye closed again, I wondered how the sun had moved from the ceiling a moment ago to where it now began disappearing on the floor.
A hand rested on my forehead and I awoke with a start. Taylor smiled down at me, holding a bowl of something that was steaming. Oh God, it smelled so irresistibly good!
“Sit up, please. I’ve brought soup,” Taylor announced, setting another pillow against the wall so I could move into an upright, seated position. My body felt like it was filled with heavy tar as I sluggishly moved.
Taylor began spoon-feeding me. My hands were still too uncoordinated to do the job. The hot soup was divine, even as good as most blood I had imbibed over the centuries. Chunks of brown meat floated around, along with vegetables and some sort of flat noodle.
I began to simultaneously cry while eating the delectable food. I felt so helpless, and empty.
Taylor didn’t say anything about my sobbing or even acknowledge it, granting me a modicum of dignity.
“Where’s Tiny Tim?”
“He’s safe,” Taylor told me with a smile. “He’s waiting for you to get better, so eat up.”
As I finished the entire bowl, which warmed my insides, I became sleepy again and began nodding off where I sat upright. I blinked my eyes and Taylor was smiling. Another blink and he was closing the door behind him. A third blink and the room was completely dark with only pale moonlight sneaking through the slit in the stone wall that acted as my window. The air was sweet, like flowers, and cool on my skin. I pulled the thick blankets higher up my chest. I drifted off again.
I was awoken by a familiar pressure below my waistline, and I lifted the blankets off my legs before stepping on the ice-cold stone floor. It almost took my breath away, it was so cold to me.
Looking around the room, I spotted a chamber pot and proceeded to do my business.
I climbed back in bed, moving the pillow that had been keeping me upright, and lay flat on the impossibly soft bed. My body sunk in slowly, like the mattress was trying to hug my body. After pulling the thick blankets up to my chin, I was embraced in warmth that promised everything was going to be okay. Then I was drifting through my dreams again.
It went on like this for an indeterminable amount of time. Taylor brought me water and food as I slept most of the days and nights. I continued to use the chamber pot, wondering when they were going to empty it.
My eyes opened at one point, and I was done sleeping. I couldn’t explain it. Sufficed to say that I was just…done. I threw the covers off and rose to a seated position, resting my face in my hands. My beard felt weird against my palms, and my fingers started to inspect my facial hair. It felt dry and scraggly. Continuing to explore, my hands moved across the oily skin of my face.
“What the…” I tried to say, but my throat was dry and it hurt to talk. Looking around, I saw a cup, or maybe it was a chalice, on the nightstand next to my bed. I reached for it and greedily sucked down the now warm water inside. When I had gulped half the liquid, I pulled the cup from my face and inspected the water, wondering why it tasted different than before. It was…a flat, round taste instead of the sharp, refreshing one that had been my first cup.
“Isn’t it funny how the taste of water is based largely on its temperature?” Taylor said from the doorway. I turned to see him leaning against the frame with a warm smile on his face. He looked well, with not a scar visible from our battle last night.
I stood, making my way to the chamber pot, and proceeded to empty my human bladder. Pulling my silk pajama bottoms back into place, I turned to see Taylor was no longer smiling.
“What?” I asked innocently.
Taylor wordlessly straightened from the doorframe of my room, walked the few steps directly in front of my entrance, and opened another door. It was a modern bathroom, complete with a porcelain throne and walk-in shower.
I looked from the bathroom to the pot on the ground and back to the bathroom. I pointed an index finger at the pot and said, “Not a chamber pot, is it?”
“No,” Taylor sighed.
“It’s some sort of priceless heirloom, isn’t it?”
Taylor nodded with pursed lips as he stared at the pot with eyes that were almost unfocused.
I felt the need to change the subject, and fast.
“Why don’t you have any cuts, bruises, or scars from last night?” I asked while my eyes roamed over his body.
“John, that was two weeks ago,” he answered slowly.
“Two…” I tried to say before the world started to spin. My knees decided they didn’t want to hold me up anymore, and I began to fall. I was vaguely aware of Taylor catching me and setting me back on the bed as I tried to catch my breath. My heart had begun playing a death metal double bass drum in my ears.
As I caught my breath and began slowing it down with an intense focus of will, my heart sl
owed with it.
“I-I’ve been asleep for two goddamned weeks?” I asked Taylor, desperate for an answer that would make my head stop spinning.
“I’m afraid so,” he said, fully understanding my predicament. Something in my stomach stabbed just under my belly button, and I hunched over in pain.
“Ow. What the hell?” I asked.
“Why don’t you go use the facilities, take a shower, and then we will get this all straightened out, okay?” he asked as if debating with a child about bedtime. In my infantile mortal state, I basically was a child.
“Why does my stomach hurt?” I asked as Taylor helped me across the hall and into the bathroom.
“I left you some reading material on the counter there,” Taylor said, nodding toward where a large but thin book rested near the commode.
“O…kay?” I said as he shut the door, leaving me alone with the stabbing pain in my guts.
I shuffled over to where the book was and read the title. Everyone Poops.
“Huh?” I asked the empty room before realization struck and I started laughing. It was a welcomed laugh that seemed to invigorate my body and mind. The laugh grew in intensity until I had to place a hand on the counter to keep from doubling over. I took in a deep breath, ready to unleash my loudest and most powerful laugh yet, when I shit my silken pants, halting my laughter with a gasp. My head pivoted slowly, careful to not make matters worse, and I saw my surprised face in the mirror. My mouth was in a frozen O shape and my eyebrows were far north of their usual position. The sight of how ridiculous I looked made me want to laugh with renewed vigor, but I decided it was best to drop dirty trou and sit upon the unfamiliar throne.
Despite my many poop jokes, vampires did not defecate, so I had never sat on a modern toilet before. We did, however, pee out the excess liquid after processing the blood we had consumed. (Happy now, Reddit? Now you know.)
I tried to make myself laugh again, hoping I could coax the remaining waste out, but to no avail. After a few minutes of trying to force the situation, I sighed and let my head fall to the side as my eyes fixated on the children’s book.