De Ascanio
was a different kind of nut to crack. The man had created yet another
world of his own - an occultic study of varying degrees of arcana.
Merchandise of the most foul sort, supplies that seemed eldritch in
nature. It resembled a warehouse of horrors, of a very specific taste.
The abnormally high ceiling resembled an atrium. The way it was crafted
with a focus on four points and with the actual glass steeple itself
that pierced up toward the sky to taunt God in his heaven…
had some relation to divine architecture.
The place was made to channel in a copious amount of power. From the
elements of the sky above. The glass paneling even emphasized the
moon’s partial glow through the blue-dusted clouds onto the
center of the room itself. Where the destroyed remains of a human being
had yet to be removed, or rather, scraped away.
Surprisingly, Mati did not seem too disturbed by this. As if she had
become rather desensitized by the ways of De Ascanio before. She merely
blinked and took it all in, ignoring even the intense smell of torn
flesh and glistening blood… in fact, Sid realized that the
remnants of the corpse had not gone into decay at all.
“Strange. I mean, the whole place is a bit delusional
but…” The puppet knelt down at the sigil beneath
the decimated organic debris. The arcane circle was likely drawn in the
own blood of De Ascanio. He really went the extra mile to try and get
ahead here. It was somewhat impressive, if not for the fact it was
mostly egoistic postering. “Half the stuff aroun’
‘im ain’t even real… Look at the quality
of the wax on da candles at each sigil-point, all uneven. Not even the
same kind or brand…”
“Do those sort of things really matter so
much…?” Mati asked, even though the answer was
obvious. But usually, she thought of this sort of magic as a type of
cooking. It was fine to substitute something that was occasionally a
cheaper variant over the expensive brand that was recommended in a
recipe. “I guess the ‘Other Side of the Veil’
takes the specifics to heart, huh…?” She joked. It
was to be well received.
“Ha! Something like that, ol’ Mati…
Looks like something literally took his heart however.”
Pointing at the gnarled and eviscerated torso, the gruesome scene was
only further emphasized by how the cardiovascular organs were strewn
about like confetti in a non-ceremonious matter. “Kept the
heart, but cut the veins… someone’s picky. Whoever
he was trying to summon, he didn’t turn out to be the right
guy.”
“Is… that why the candles and sigil and everything
else are so important?” Mati began to understand this more
and more. She found herself rather content that Sid proved to be the
man that she thought De Ascanio really was. “That makes sense
now, doesn’t it…? If all the objects, symbols and
items are meant to be conduits for something-”
“Bingo! You get something else if you aren’t
careful. You play cheap, bet low but expect to win high and
ech!” Sid drew his finger comically across his neck and did
his best to contort his face to that of a dying man in pain.
“If you try and get a demon from a nickle and dime store,
you’re sure as ‘ell not gonna get a full quarter
worth of a demon, ya know?”
Pondering, Mati took steps around the sigil that was punctuated by De
Ascanio’s non-rotting remains. “He… made
me watch a lot of videos. To become desensitized to this sort of thing.
Of rituals from all around the world.” Matilde gulped,
ashamed to admit that she had followed his instructions on such a
thing. As morally dubious as it would prove to be. “Cartel
beheadings, instances of brujeria, ritualistic cannibalism
and… I endured it. Knowing one day I might come upon De
Ascanio… looking like this.”
“This sick joe made ya watch all that stuff? A young girl
like yerself?” Visibly disgusted, Sid, kicked what remained
of one of De Ascanio’s limbs. However, all it did was make a
disgusting, sickly sound as it unstuck itself to the tiled masonry of
the floor. Like velcro tearing itself free from another patch.
“Bad dogs like this don’t attract bad apples. He
prolly saw ya were a good kid, thought he’d keep ya around,
just in case he needed a sacrifice…”
“A sacrifice?!” Despite everything, Matilde did not
want to consider the possibility that De Ascanio would do such a thing
to her. After all, the two of them had gotten along… sort
of. “I don’t want to believe that… De
Ascanio was strange, maybe even insecure - but a sacrifice?”
“Well, that is what this looks like to me, don’t ya
agree?” Shrugging, Sid waved his hands toward the corpse
decorations before the two of them. “Ya said he wanted to
escape his dying body… well, when ya not so magically
inclined, a man has to do what only a man can do.”
Matilde blinked, only partially comprehending that. “What are
you saying? That… this is a gender specific sort of
thing?”
“Precisely. Magic is very… femme. Very femme
fatal. Witches, all that. Not a lot of warlocks, wizards, whatever ya
call them. It is very feminine energy. Magic is sexy, ya
know?” The eyebrows on the puppet bounced up and down
suggestively. Hypnotized by the charm only briefly, Mati shook her head
away and glanced toward the rest of the room and its abundance of
occultic merchandise. All to hide her blush. “Ay,
don’t look away, it is true…”
Looking over De Ascanio’s possessions, all objects that were
likely meant to act as conduits, stacked high to each wall and
effectively cocooning the man into this ritual… Matilde
realized that he was more of a hoarder of magical things, rather than
an actual authority on magic. “De Ascanio told me men were
the ones capable of the highest form of magic… That women
murked it up.”
“Ha! Even an old fashioned guy like me can tell ya that
ain’t true. As girly faced as he was, it seemed he was self
conscious that magic prolly kept him a bit on the feminine side
spiritually himself, ya know?” A bold suggestion, Sid
continued to take in the symbols that De Ascanio scribbled.
“Another mistake… the guy chalked everything out.
Then he did the painting over it in blood. The dummkopf was
begging for all of this to go wrong.”
“So.. since De Ascanio was doing his best to escape death, he
was trying to find a way to leave the prison of his body
and…” Matilde took in a big inhale of air.
Meanwhile, Sid motioned her on to try and breathe normally. In, out. In
and out. “And since other methods failed… he was
trying to summon a demon to make it happen for him?”
“Bingo again, Mati. Ya really are a little witch in
trainin’, aren’t ya?” If it was possible,
he would have smirked. Instead, Sid gave Mati a look that was more
embarrassing than anything else. “Even with a feminine soul,
someone like De Ascanio just doesn’t got ‘the
stuff’ to pull a body transfer spell off… But he
was smart enough to know that if he wished for immortality or
somethin’, it would result in him being the one that was
possessed… Or his body woulda taken on a form he
‘ated…”
To think, his insecurity had actually lead him here of all places. A
bunch of still bleeding guts and flesh loosely connected by some
strands of tissue to the bones. Even Sid took pity on the bastard.
“I bet the police ‘ad not an idea what to do to
‘im. They prolly told ya all they got rid of the body. It
makes sense why everyone would believe that too - not a single stink of
decay. Just iron in the air. Phew…”
“You can smell that…? The blood in the
air?” Matilde asked, obviously concerned. It was
something… unnatural for a dummy.
“Yeah… I can, can’t I?” His
eyes widened, looking over his hands. This body was another step to
becoming organic in the most awkward way. On the brightside, he was
surprised that Matilde at least smelled decent. Like a new book but
with something a little like a proper candle. Unlike the cheap knock
offs that De Ascanio bought online without thinking.
“Well… I promise ya, Matilde, I don’t
end up like this schmuck. Turned to goop and discarded by
whateva’ he brought in’ta the world.”
Her own heart fluttered at that, in a frightened pause. “You
mean… whatever did this to De Ascanio is still in
here?” This whole time, while she was working and studying,
coping with what had happened - next door, De Ascanio’s
killer was lurking about. Watching the gushing remains from a distance.
“Possibly. Don’t be scared tho, demons tend to be a
bit cowardly. Especially the kind he was
summonin’.” Said Sid, as he examined one of De
Ascanio’s eyes. A part of an eyelid still stuck the red-dyed
sclera from the trauma that cleaved his face into pieces. Beside the
torso was a lower jaw and a ripped up tongue. Still twitching beneath
the moonlight. “Men can’t do magic the same way the
gals can, as I said before. They gotta sell their souls, sometimes
their bodies and make pacts with demons.”
“De Ascanio willingly, knowingly, summoned a demon to kill
him…?” It was so hard for Matilde to believe. But
she had to accept it as true. De Ascanio knew that sometimes, being
suddenly bold was more than enough to get things done. He had tried to
teach her that, but she hardly ever really listened. “This
was intentional… he made a deal with a demon, to be torn
apart and then what? The demon would put his soul in another
body?”
A wooden ‘click’ from his fingers as he snapped
them toward her. She was learning some ace detective skills,
specifically in how to piece things together from the evidence alone.
Sid had to give her credit for that. “Right on mark. Demons
are pros at possession… The ‘ate that so often,
humies get the best steak dinner out of the whole meal. Demons envy
that ‘umans have vices, but not all of them are ruled by
‘em, ya know?”
“Morals and ethics… demons lack them, that is what
De Ascanio said. That on the other side, they are all jealous and
heartless. They can’t live a life with love or anything to do
with others. Self serving and miserable…” Matilde
wondered if De Ascanio could relate to this. Maybe, even, his words
describing the hell-kin being a projection. She was recently taught
about such things in psychology class. “A demon
doesn’t have to internalize and dictate themselves by
ideology to commit evil… they simply are.”
“They really teachin’ this big-thought stuff in
schools nowadays? Sheesh… They make it seem so
complicated.” The dummy inspected the tip of De
Ascanio’s tongue. It had been nailed to the very center of
the ritual sigil. “Sometimes, ya gotta keep things simple.
Demons ‘ave no idea they are evil, really… they
just use that word because they know it spooks the ‘ell outta
people.”
“A lot of people in the world today don’t know they
are evil…” A rightful exclamation, probably.
Matilde had opinions and beliefs of her own, more than just what De
Ascanio had tried to impress and groom into her.
“Sid…” She trailed off, yearning to
intimately ask a personal question on perspective.
“Yeeeeaahsss?” The dummy was busy, but he did find
his own intrigue in what was about to be asked. “Say it
toots. What’s goin’ on in ya head?”
“Do you think it is true that some people are…
just bad? People, I mean. Without any rhyme or reason?”
“Some people are rotten. Sure. But there are a lot more
decent folk out there too…” With a sigh, Sid
beckoned her near. It was time to get into the literal nitty gritty of
what would entail the rest of their investigation. “De
Ascanio had a big heart… literally. Lot of his organs are
enlarged. Man was truly dyin’ as ya said. Like his body was
just ready to kill ‘em.”
The hole in the mutilated torso was just that, a hole into blackness.
Unfortunately, despite all the posturing and everything De Ascanio had
himself, he was still just a man of bones and organs like anyone else.
“Fancy people ‘ave a tendency to dress
‘emselves up… make it ‘em seem they are
more than just a handsome face.” Stepping back, Sid took in
the whole picture and came to a conclusion. “I was
wonderin’ why a guy would put a place like this on an
uni’ campus… Matilde. What do you think is beneath
our feet, right now?”
A few seconds of silence as she contemplated it. Obviously, he
didn’t mean anything too literal. But Mati also assumed it
wouldn’t be anything deep or profound. Finally, she
confientally had the answer. “Spain!”
“What? No, no, well, yeah, sort of I guess, it is Spain after
all - but I mean, literally deep beneath the floor, below our
feet.”
“Uhm… fertile soil? Enriched soil? Uhh-”
“A hellmouth.” Sid stated seriously.
“A hellmouth…? Sounds like a band name.”
She did not mean to disregard it, Sid could see that much.
“B-but go on! What is it, Sid?”
“Boca del
Infierno, I once was wanderin’ around another
one back in the ol’ United States. But these portals - they
are like conduits, ya know? Buoys… Like fer radio signals
‘n what not, but for energy that can bend the corporeal realm
around the spiritual realm - like a lock a hair around a
broad’s finger…” And twice as
carelessly, he thought. Sid began pacing. This was all knowledge that
no doubt, demon slayers knew - but an amatuer like this gal?
She had so much to learn about how deep
it all really went. “Ya see, Mati, I’m
guessin’ the people of Spain are a prayin’
people…”
“Uhmm…” She really didn’t have
any authority to say, but it was the raw statistical data that came to
mind, that she began to explain. “Spain is majority Catholic
practicing, at around 58%... many churches.”
“Churches. That is how ya know there is a country with alotta
Hellmouths. Whenever those damn things pop up, lotta people get scared
- turn to God, turn to the Church. Anythin’ to
help.” It was natural of humans to seek out ailments for the
wounds the unnatural and perverse would afflict upon ‘em.
“A hellmouth, now… these things - are like
doorways to another dimension. A big ol’ leak of
hell’s sewage. It's a source of magic and other
things… Centuries ago, da Church prolly built a university
over it to try and seal it all away ‘n it prolly
worked.”
His artificial eyes blinked, feeling more wet than they ever should,
examining the architecture of the building itself around them from the
interior alone. Including the atrium. “De Ascanio rebuilt the
atrium… then made a palace out of this ol’
warehouse, didn’t he? The library, maybe ‘is
‘ole damn career… coulda been a cover up to get
‘im where he needed to be. Right here.”
“Below us is a literal portal to hell…?”
Matilde asked in a reaffirming way. Of course, she was
never a lucky person. She was neither unlucky either. This was the most
exciting thing to happen to her since De Ascanio took notice of her.
“I’m sorry, it is just… I never expected
I’d be involved in anything like this.”
“A normal gal shouldn’t oughta worry about crazy
whacko demon crap like this.”
“Is it as bad as it sounds?”
“Not at all…” Sid stated, which
surprised Matilde considerably. “De Ascanio was too
incompetent to make this ‘ole thing work. A powerful person
coulda done some apocalyptic damage wit’ a workshop over the
devil’s door, instead… De Ascanio did all dis to
come knockin’ and it wasn’t the devil he wanted who
answered.”
“Is… the reason his body isn’t decaying,
is it because of the hellmouth?” It made sense. The sigil
aligned with the atrium above, the framing of the glass making a
perfect correspondence - the shadows would have traced the sigil
itself. His attempt must have taken place during a full, bright moon.
“The hellmouth is sustaining his body somewhat?”
“Yeah… and it is making mine more real.”
Sid clenched his fists. He could feel it - as if they were his own in
his old life. “But this means… if I find a proppa
body - I could do what De Ascanio intended. Put my little soul in a
normal body and wait unda’ the hellmouth until it turned me
to a nice, walkin’, wise-crackin’,
talkin’ tough guy person with flesh again.”
“T-that is great! But, if De Ascanio couldn’t do
it, with all of this stuff and circumstances to help him
out… how would we even be able to?” A question
that she’d regret asking, as Sid gave her a coy look. His
face was becoming more human-like in expressiveness. Something she
didn’t want to admit. Luckily, she was distracted well enough
with the current realization and predicament. “W-what? You
really think I
can help out in this magic stuff?”
“That
is what ya wanted to learn, isn’t it?” He was
right. She hated that he was often right.
“It is such a big leap… I’m just a
college student, ya know and…” Suddenly, she
couldn’t stand the sound of her own voice. Her own whining.
Her own inability to do something. Or rather, her willingness to just
give up. That is why she said something unexpected, even from her.
“I’ll do it. Fine. I am sure De Ascanio has
something around here we can use…”
“I didn’t even need to push ya. Yer
growin’ up so fast.” Sid wiped away a fake tear.
“First thing’s first, we oughta find the body he
was plannin’ to enter. He was a vain ol’ dog,
he’d want something life size and expressionless. Something
he’d want to grow into…”
“Like a giant anatomy mannequin that artists
use…” As she recounted this, Matilde turned
suddenly. In the darkness, where the moonlight from the atrium above
barely did not reach - there was a coffin-sized box covered in a long
red blanket. “We… had a large, real-life size one
in art class that went missing. It was very flexible, anatomically
correct, of course… and so many points of articulation for
real-scale studies… I think even the medical students would
refer to it from time to time.”
“Sheesh, the guy tryna turn himself into real art,
huh?” Sid trailed behind as Matilde cautiously began to
approach the concealed box. She was taking her sweet time, as if she
was expecting De Ascanio to burst out of it at any step toward it, at
any moment. “Don’t worry, I don’t think
the demon that tore ‘im to pieces bothered to fulfill its
side of the deal…” Although, even Sid felt like
this part of the building was ominous and creepy.
Opened crates and boxes, all sorts of puppets and humanoid apparatuses.
It was almost as if someone had robbed the place. Or De Ascanio had
frantically gone through things, looking for a specific part or
another. With the abundance of junk this guy imported in, both real and
obscene and also fake and purely replica, movie prop nonsense - the guy
had enough wood to build a house.
“Eghhh… a bit of poor taste, I’ll
admit.” Matilde was outright offended that De Ascanio had a
war-time flag from a less than reputable country of the Axis powers
during WWII over the box. The ‘blanket’ from before
was exactly that. A red fabric of infamy and nationwide shame for
Germany. Complete with a long controversial symbol. “De
Ascanio… collected a lot of war memorabilia. Especially
since the Germans at the time, had a long standing association with
occultic practices…”
Discarding it to the side, the box laid before the two of them. Its age
was evident, or at the very least, it looked like it had seen a better
few centuries. “Jeez-louise, looks like they dug this outta
crypt in Transylvania…” Sid rubbed his head, the
thing looked outright cursed. “Maybe give whatever is inside
a courtesy knock…? Ya know, just in case there is an ancient
undead aristocrat in there or somethin’...”
“Sure, sure… I will.” Matilde absolutely
did not want to do that, but she brought her fingers together and
knocked on the coffin’s lid. No reply. Not even a scamper
from a rat or mouse inside. It sounded almost hollow. Gulping, she held
her breath and grabbed the latch. No lock or chain keeping it secure.
“Okay, I’m going to do it.”
“...”
“I’m… definitely going to do it now,
Sid.”
“...”
“Sid, maybe you should-”
“Doll-face, just open the damn box, for cryin’ out
loud…”
Sid was right. There was no going back. She’d have no way to
anticipate what was hidden inside. Throwing all caution to the wind,
Matilde opened the coffin to a sudden roar. A hue illumination of
vermillion red tauntingly leaped out - as if the Hellmouth was in fact
here. As if a well straight to hell had been uncovered and the essence
of evil itself had manifested in rays of blinding redness.
The crimson casting would dispensate with a low quality, royalty free
horror-sting soundtrack that flooded the room. The animatron hidden
within would yelp “Bleh! Bleh!” in a painfully
stereotypical manner. The arms of the robotic dracula would move up and
down, his mouth opening and closing almost mockingly as his mechanical
eyebrows bounced in all directions.
The stake through his heart would comically protrude in and out, as if
he was being actively stabbed by an invisible force. The cobwebs and
dust made Matilde and even Sid cough. The Halloween decoration
continued to spurt out its obnoxious noises and voice clips, all while
Matilde tried to close the case - but it had been lodged open from the
force she pried it with.
“This damn stupid decoration… thing!”
Mati cursed, all while Sid stood back having a chuckle at her.
“De Ascanio kept buying nonsense like this! He’d
find something online with an eye-catching title and he’d buy
it, without realizing it was a prop or-”
“Holiday lawn decoration?” Asked Sid, as he read
the coffin’s description on the side. ‘Life Like Dracula Holiday Lawn
Decoration - perfect for Halloween!’
“Ridiculous, how much ya think yer boss-man bought this for,
chicky?”
“Too
much, that is for sure…” The disappointed Mati was
at ease, even though the animatronic did scare her at first.
“Wait, did you hear that…?” Her ears
visibly perked and twitched at the sound of something nearby. Like
steel being scraped against concrete.
“What? The music and offensive transylvanian accent from that
speaky-box?! Or what?!” Holding his ears, Sid felt what was
like an actual thump against organic eardrums in his head. This was
getting to be too much. His proximity to the Hellmouth was making his
eyes start to water as well.
“No, there is something-”
There was something above them. Stirred and awoken by the music. From
the top of the wall of lined boxes, that
‘thing’s’ bladed appendage had reached
down and taken a swipe at Matilde’s neck. Luckily, Sid had
spotted it just in time. Despite his small stature, he was able to jump
up and grab Mati by her legs, hugging her thighs tightly.
“Get down!”
As the two tumbled over from Sid’s tackle, the blade from the
dark still glanced Matilde’s left clavicle. The slice had
torn through her sweater and vest, a small torrent of blood managed to
coarse from the rupture. It was an extremely painful cut, a laceration
like that was hardly fatal - but Sid could tell it had scraped her
collar bone.
“Ahh! W-what was that?! It hurts!!” Mati was
yelping, cupping the wound as best as she could. “W-was that
a knife?!”
“Hold your wound tight!” Instructed Sid.
Remarkably, his small frame managed to grip the bottom hem of her skirt
and rip a strip of it away. Bundling and folding it over several times,
he made a small patch for the time being. “Stick this close
to the cut!”
Without thinking, Matilde did as he instructed. Holding the coarse
cloth against the wound, while it hardly did much to stop it - it
proved to be better than just letting the blood force itself around her
fingers.
Grabbing the wooden stake from the dracula decoration, Sid gripped it
and began looking around. Knowing that their attacker would be close
by, somewhere. But he didn’t expect it to still be above.
Leaping down, the hidden enemy finally closed the Dracula-prop casket
and beckoned them all with silence. Without the red ambient lights,
this side of the room was still dark. No doubt, Sid was able to see
that the perpetrator was likely the artificial body that Matilde had
described - that was stolen from the school premises.
But something had happened to it. Its shape was far from human, as if
it was mutated. The glistening of moonlight upon the blades it had
attached to its limbs like additional digits barely made anything more
than the silhouette visible.
It lurched, painfully, from the top of the coffin and toward the downed
Matilde girl. The staggering movement had betrayed any illusion that
this was a true humanoid. It might have the body of an anatomically
correct person, but it was modified through an archaic series of
self-modifications. Sessions of the most macabre sort.
A bucket shaped, horse-like head - that had several voodoo-dolls and
shrunken heads nailed to it like a swarm of eyes. The head was adorned
with a blackened mop of black hair, potentially a wig taken from
another dummy or potentially even a Japanese theater mask.
The head was horned - two bloodied ribs from De Ascanio’s
corpse aimed toward the ceiling. It had an additional set of arms, each
one grasping a blade of some sort. Ceremonial Aztec origins for one, a
Vietnam-war era American KA-BAR for another, the third had a glaive
prop replica of something a Klingon would carry on Star Trek and its
dominant right hand - a brand new Japanese fruit-cutting knife.
That one in particular, had a crimson smear from Mati’s wound
upon it. As well as curled tendrils from the fabric of her sweater
vest. It made Sid angry - knowing this abomination had carved up
Matilde’s body. If not for Sid, that blade could have slit
her throat wide open.
The otherwise nudebody of the walking humanoid, possessed mannequin -
was wrapped tightly in some blood-stained, black ceremonial robbing.
Likely, it hid other surprises and weapons underneath. A faint buzzing
was heard, in fact. One that made Sid even more cautious.
“Ay, the world is a big place but not enough for the two of
us, ya ugly buster…” Sid’s grip could
barely hold the stake, but he still brought it up in defense of himself
and Matilde, who was currently crawling away from the sight of this
abomination, shrieking.
“Sid! What is that thing!”
“I don’t know, but it looks like the demon De
Ascanio summoned found a new body of its own… and has been
playing with ya old boss’s things. A proper wicked wicker
boy, here…” Knowing
that it would go after Mati again, Sid taunted the bladed-beast of
wood. “Come on, ya horse-faced bastard! Imma show ya what an
old demon slaya’ can still do!”
The strange… ‘thing’ hissed at him, like
steam escaping an overworked boiler. The bastard raised its hand and
swiped down with the fruit-cutting knife. Sid was quick to catch the
blade with the body of the stake, only for it to be sliced clean
through.
“What the?!” As he hopped back, Sid examined the
utensil. “Shit… it's a hunk of plastic, a piece of
junk prop like the rest of that toothy-guy’s
casket!” It was very embarrassing to admit. Quickly, the
useless stub was discarded. Sid had no option but to try and fight him,
man to man. Fisticuffs style.
“Come on, put ‘em up!” Promptly, Sid
raised his own tiny hands and was swinging like a professional boxer
hitting hung meat in a freezer. Just like in the movies. However, a
single swipe from one of the bladed-puppet’s arms knocked him
right over like a bowling pin. “Okay! You win that
round!” Pained, Sid grasped his side as he stood up again. Or
tried to at least.
He was dizzy, of all things. A damned dummy, being dizzy? It was
ridiculous, but he fell down and felt like he had a long night drinking
with no water. “Mati… run girl!” All he
could do was warn her, but Matilde was backed up against another array
of loaded-up surplus shelves. “Yo-you can do it! Just get up
and run!
It can't end here. Not
like this. Come on, Sid. Ya gotta get up. Fight the good fight. You
never gave up before, why now? There’s a damn demon right in
front of ya, walking toward her now… Ya gotta get up. Ya
gotta be the mensch you truly are. Get up, man. Ya
schmuck, get up!
Sid berated himself, but he was still woozy on his feet. By the time he
was up again, he had nearly dipped right over - as if his head was
suddenly full of heavy concrete. “Get out of here!”
“I-I
can’t!” Matilde was frozen in fear. Still grasping
at her wound and watching as the puppet-body-abomination loomed closer.
“W-who are you?! Is that you Mr. De Ascanio?!”
“Mr. De Ascanio…?” An inhuman voice
asked from within the wooden body. A voice distorted, as if it had been
a whisper between the crumbling of coal or simply mishearing words in
the sounds of a hand shifting through soil. Indeed, it was something
not truly corporeal. Vocal cords hidden within a deeply buried casket.
“There is no Mr. De Ascanio any longer… I ripped
him to a bunch of messes.”
Tears of pain and fear had welled in Matilde’s eyes. She
gasped as the creature stood on its legs tall above her. Still holding
its blades, it pulled back the dark, occultic robings to reveal its
body underneath. Like a crude pair of breasts, a large typewriter sized
music box was fastened to the chest.
It began to wind up by itself and what came forth of it was the oddly
inappropriate ‘All
I Ask Of You’ from the Phantom of the Opera. The
condition of the box had long decayed. Rusted pins on the rotating
cylinder plucked the steel comb’s tuning teeth - many of them
having been broken or shaved down from use. The tune was nearly demonic
in sound.
All of this managed to distract Mati from the pelvis region of her
attacker. The vibrating sound that Sid heard before was clearly coming
from this source. A grotesquely large phallus, so pink that it was
visible in the darkness, had confronted Mati’s face - just
inches away from her.
The vibrating strap-on harness was fastened tightly to the
demon’s wooden pelvic girdle. Studded with bulbs and various
ribbing, Mati blushed at it involuntarily. Why would De Ascanio have
such a devious sex toy in his personal workshop and ritual room? And
why was this demon, that had possessed and fastened itself with all of
De Ascanio’s belongings, wearing it so shamelessly?
The truth of the
inevitable was absolutely mortifying. Matilde’s eyes widened.
“Y-you can’t be serious. You can just stab me! Or
cut my throat!” Being killed was one thing, but to be raped
by an abomination of your former teacher’s trinkets and other
unfortunate purchases? That was crueler than death. But Mati had
nowhere else to crawl to.
“Don’t
worry, girlie… I plan to do that anyways to you after the
first round. As for the second…” The demon-doll
stepped back, lowered itself like a fox hunting its prey - before it
teased at her legs with a blade. Hoping that to avoid being cut, Mati
would spread her legs open for it almost voluntarily. “For
round two, blood will be an efficient lubricant…”
Outside, a concession
of car doors being closed had caught the demon’s attention.
“Huh?!” One of its hands slammed against the music
box on its chest, stopping it with a loud springing-sound.
“The toy soldiers have finally come out to
play…”
The demon slinked
back, jumping onto the wall of boxes and then - it climbed into the
darkness above. All while the sound of men outside, progressing rapidly
with booted feet toward the main entrance that was otherwise locked -
Sid had pulled himself up and was on his feet again. Miraculously.
“Listen
toots, you are going to need to hide!” He warned, an ominous
feeling had overtaken him. This whole situation was a lot more serious
than he’d ever thought. “Come on, hurry!”
“I just
don’t know what I am supposed to do here, Sid! That thing
nearly raped me and I’m, I’m bleeding
and-” No. She thought. Sid did everything he could to protect
me. I need to prove I am capable of protecting myself too. “I
th-think this box in the corner is empty…” She
glanced over to her right, where there was indeed - a crate that had
been left ajar. Broken open at some point. Possibly by the demon-doll.
“Get in
there! Even if it's full of something all scratchy!” Sid
waved her on, all while keeping his eye toward the door. Some
additional sounds were heard from the smaller workshop that they had
entered through earlier. “Damn, there’s more guys
comin’ from the inside too! They prolly got people
swarmin’ the library…”
“Guys?!
What other guys do you mean?!” The ever frightened Mati
asked, as she lifted the wooden lid to the crate and found that it was
in fact empty. Unfortunately, the bottom was packed with less than
comfortable wood chips. Regardless, she stepped into it with one foot
already. Fearing what else could have possibly intruded on them
tonight. In a way, Mati almost felt like this was deserved - as they
were the ones intruding on the unfortunate site of De
Ascanio’s demise. “Sid, what are you going to
do?!”
“Don’t
worry about me kid, the cavalry just arrived… stay put and
stay safe, ya hear!” Warned Sid, by that point, Mati had
already hidden herself inside of the crate and pulled the top over to
cover her hiding spot. She heard Sid shifting around and finally,
everything was silent. But anticipating the worst, she covered her
mouth to capture her own screams in case something loud happened.
She was right to do
so. The doors that were blocked off from the outside were blown open
with a small charge. The church-like doors had become chunks of wood
and splinters that now populated the floor just near the botched-ritual
site. Heavy chunky, feet began to march in from both the outward
entrance and the workshop’s secret entrance.
A coordinated
movement, done by professionals. These men were soldiers, but of what
denomination and practice - it was hard to tell. It was unlikely they
were mercenaries or official soldiers of the government. The biggest
tell all was that they were speaking English to one another, in a
variety of languages. Mati could tell that there were six in total, as
they all counted themselves off once they regrouped in the room. Only
two of them spoke with Spanish accents.
“Blitz,
this is where the Hellmouth is, no doubt. EMF readings are going off
the charts.” One soldier said to their unit leader. Nearby,
Sid was able to spy on them from a stationary position. It was
remarkable how far militaries had come since his age. Especially if
these guys were some paramilitary goons and not the true feds.
They wore black
uniforms with gear to match. Thigh-drop holsters with side arms of a
German make and model. Their rifles and submachine guns, too, were from
H&K firearms in Germany. The best law-enforcement and special
forces-graded tactical weapons that any force could buy. Their helmets
were a neutral gray and the five men and one woman’s faces
were obscured in black balaclavas. For eye-protection, it looked like
they cheaped out for some ski-goggles.
Not a single bit of
skin was showing otherwise, these guys were professionals. Their
helmets were adorned with mounts for next-gen night vision goggles,
although they were not yet in use. On their arms were specific unit
patches. These guys in particular wore a dark red number 9, stylized as
a grim-reaper with a psyche - likely their unit mascot.
“Smithers,
Flake and Choke. Sweep out and investigate the EMF readings.”
The man named Blitz had given the order. Soon after, he’d
reaffirm what his own unit of three was about to do. “Monroe
and Beser will hold the perimeter here with me. I will also call in and
tell command we’re inside.”
There was no verbal
affirmation from either of them. Only a nod and quickly, the team of
three - composed of Smithers, Flake and Choke, began to move past the
ritual-site and where the Dracula casket was. Where the true mayhem of
just before had taken place.
Blitz called into his
command via the radio-comm headset that was integrated with his combat
helmet. “TAC team to TOC, this is Reaver Team 9-Actual. TAC
team is on site and investigating the disturbance at SpecLoc
21.” The orders he received gave him the go ahead to lead the
mission as he saw fit. “TAC team to TOC, we will proceed in
accordance to our mission parameters. TAC team to TOC, this is Reaver
Team 9 out.”
The commander ended
the transmission and looked over his shoulder toward his two
immediate-unit members. “Monroe, on the body - tell me what
you see. Keep holding the perimeter by the door - Beser.” The
only female in the group complied immediately, while Beser stacked up
on the door they just blew in.
Monroe approached
with her gun at the ready, just in case. Moving heel to toe silently as
they all did, she paused and knelt down just outside of the bloodied
sigil. “Blitz, can confirm these are the remains of De
Ascanio, just as we read in the report. Looks like his organic tissue
is being sustained by the vicinity of the Hellmouth.”
“Copy that,
Monroe. Any chance Mr. De Ascanio there is still a nice vibrant face
for the community?”
“Unlikely,
Blitz. Subject lacks sentience. Any twitching is just the nerves being
sustained and jolting about from the continued circulation of their
last action. His corpse is stuck on a loop, even when spread apart like
this.” Monroe stood up, securing her position over the sigil.
“Looks like he summoned someone nasty.”
Blitz chuckled.
“Yeah, well. We’re the guys that deal with nasty
things.” Looking over to the other unit, he gave a quick call
out. “Hey, Smithers, how is it looking over there - Flake is
not flaking out, is he?”
“Lookin’
good, boss.” Smithers replied. They had cleared the room and
confirmed no immediate hostiles, otherwise - they would have engaged
them. “Moonlight is not reaching here. We’re going
to activate NODs and go green-light.”
With that order,
Smithers, Flake and Choke brought their night vision devices down from
the mounts and over their eyes. Choke coughed into his arm as he felt
his eyes almost be tickled by the sudden screens of light.
“The moonlight from the other side of the room is causing a
harsh bounce-contrast. We’re moving to thermals.”
“Shit, I
hate thermals…” Flake complained. Twisting a knob
on the side of his goggle-rig. An audible ping followed as the
green-night vision shifted suddenly to thermal imaging.
“Damn, it must be unnaturally cold in here. I spot a lot of
blue spaces.”
“Can
confirm…” Choke weaseled out sheepishly.
“What is inside all of these boxes? Some of them seem to have
heat signatures…”
Inside the crate,
still hiding, Mati was horrified at the prospect of these people
finding her. If only there was a way to hide her signature somehow. But
it was impossible. Especially since she was flustered and breathing.
“Ignore
heat signatures in the crates along the walls. De Ascanio apparently
was a collector of some spooky stuff…” The
second-in-command Smithers explained. “Guy was a bloody yank
with the way he spent his money. A whole bunch of these are self-heated
sex dolls…”
“You’re
kidding me…” Flake wondered just how the hell he
always got missions like this. “I heard about them though,
they say they naturally generate heat through micro-electric pulses.
Supposed to be super realistic.”
“You know a
lot about these dolls, I think, Flake…” Smithers
teased.
“Man, fuck
you. It got lonely back at that operation in Camden.”
Something suddenly caught Flake’s eye within the thermal
vision. “We had some activity here. There’s fresh
blood by that casket-shaped object.”
“Copy
that…” Approaching it first, Smithers took some
cautionary steps toward it. “Might be residual from the night
of De Ascanio’s death. The hellmouth is probably keeping his
blood from congealing too…”
“Whoa-”
Choke alerted the team with some surprising news. “We got a
spike of electro-magnetic activity near that casket. Radiating from it
even.” He had temporarily moved his goggles upward to examine
a small-tablet like device that was fastened to his non-shooting hand,
on the inner wrist.
“Looks like
goddamn Halloween decoration to me.” The surprisingly astute
Flake remarked. “But the casket does have a heat signature -
or at least, something with a heat signature had been bothering it
earlier.
“Copy that,
I’m going to take a look.” Being the bravest of
them all, Smithers began to move toward it. Moments like these were why
his two teammates had cowardly nicknames like Flake and Choke.
“Okay, Flake - get close and cover me. Choke - keep searching
for EMF readings and try not to shoot yourself in the foot.”
“Roger,
captain…” Obviously, Choke didn’t like
his nickname or his reputation too much either. Walking along the wall
of crates and shelves, the tablet of his began to ping louder and
louder. “I got another reading over here… Might be
faulty wiring. Old buildings like this have a lot of that sort of shit.
An old fuse box can even generate sizable electro-magnetic
fields…” One time, Choke was running around an old
building ‘chasing ghosts’, as he thought. In
reality, he was running around like a chicken with its head cut off -
chasing the pings down from a damaged light fixture installation in the
building they were investigating.
“I swear
man, this better not be like that Berlin job…”
Complained Flake, as he watched Smithers temporarily sling his rifle
over his shoulder and approach the casket. “Getting cold feet
all of a sudden, Smithers?”
“Fuck off
man, its just the fact you are watching…” The two
snickered at that. “It's like when we were camping that one
time… I couldn’t piss because you were standing
behind me, watching.”
Flake shrugged it
off. “I had to go too. And you found a good spot to do it
at.” After a nod, Flake got into a firing position and aimed
at the casket. “Open that bitch up. Good thing we have
silencers, or else this would wake the whole neighborhood up more than
that door charge did…”
“I feel
like Van-fucking-Helsing, right now.” Grasping the corner of
the casket’s lid, Smithers gave it a pull and…
were greeted with animatronic dracula.
It sprung to life
with the same sounds, music and red flashing lights that had tormented
Sid and Matilde earlier. Inside the crate, Matilde had to contain her
laughter.
“Huh? You
hear that?” Asked Smithers, closing the lid down hard and
thus, bringing them all back into the eerie silence. “Dammit,
I bet this place is haunted all to hell too… This guy
probably bought a bunch of children’s skeletons from
Argentina or something.”
Meanwhile,
Choke’s tablet pinged hard as he passed something on a shelf.
“Hold up, I got something.” He traced his steps and
backed up a bit, before lifting his goggles all the way up and
examining… a stationary ventriloquist dummy sitting beside a
box on the shelving. “Huh, looks like that dummy that was
missing from the library exhibit…” His eyes
exchanged focus between the tablet and the dummy that was illuminated
briefly by the device’s glow.
“I
don’t think it's anything paranormal… just
creepy.” Ever since that one operation from before, he was
always skeptical of the EMF reader. Electromagnetic Fields were often
associated with the presence of spirits, but this looked like any other
creepy doll that was hanging around back here. “There must be
a breaker box behind it or something…” As Choke
reached out to move Sid, the dummy’s eyes involuntarily
clicked toward him.
Gasping, Choke jumped
back. “Holy shit!” He declared as he raised his gun
toward Sid. “The damn thing just moved-”
Before he could
continue reporting in, a large crate from above had been pushed onto
Flake. The wood crashed and splintered all around him, but the man
seemed far from okay. “Flake just got knocked out!”
Smithers reported, aiming up high.
“Whatever is up there, it
doesn’t have a heat signature!” His finger was
prodding at the trigger, ready to fire at any moment.
“Shit, pull
back and regroup with Blitz!” The suggestion from Choke was
sound, even if a bit cowardly. When he brought his attention back to
Sid - he found that the dummy was gone. “No
way…”
Meanwhile, Blitz
wasn’t just going to sit around and watch his men get toyed
with any more. “Reaver 9, go hot and engage!” He
moved in to assist and provide additional support to Smithers as he
pulled Flake’s unconscious body from the wooden debris.
“Monroe! On me! Beser - stay on the door!”
Shrugging,
disappointed he wasn’t going to get in on the action, Beser
watched as Monroe got to link up with the boss and here he was -
watching a shattered door. “Bunch of bullshit, I never get to
shoot the demons…”
Now free from the
large pallets of wood that had crushed him, Flake returned to
consciousness, coughing through his mask. “What the hell hit
me?!”
“A box of
all your desires and dreams, God delivered it to you
personally.” Joked Smithers as he pulled his comrade back up
to his feet.
“Thanks
man, I knew you always got my back-” As Flake was responding,
something heavy and seemingly blacker than black, lacking a heat
signature of any sort - landed behind him. A blade was shoved from the
back of his neck, through his vertebrae and bulged out his
adam’s apple. Soon, his throat was spitting out consistent
squirts of blood that drained all over Smithers’ masked face
and optics.
“Shit!
Shit!” Smithers had to shrug off his dying friend, who fell
forward and tried to hold onto him. “My optics are covered in
blood, going to natural light!” Flipping his NVGs off,
Smithers had to watch as Flake became a pool of glistening plasma
beneath him.
“Smithers,
get your head in the game and engage!” Blitz ordered. By now,
a concession of rounds were being fired at the black mass that was
darting all around. The soldiers were careful not to flag one another
with their rifles and accidentally shoot one another. Even while their
weapons had silencers, the room was defeaned with the sound of loud
whip-like cracks and bullets turning into shrapnel-debris upon hitting
the walls and other crates. “It doesn’t have a heat
signature! Repeat, it doesn’t have a heat
signature!”
“Bullshit!
If it's a demon, it should be hotter than a normal-body!”
Choke called out, rapidly moving toward the rest of his team when
something bit his leg. A spare round that had ricoheted off of a metal
bracket from a shelf. “Watch your fucking fire! A ricochet
just went through my calf!” Dropping to one knee, Choke
grasped his bleeding leg when heard something slither beside him.
“Oh
no…” The soldier was grabbed from behind and
dragged, kicking and screaming behind a crate on the ground level.
“Aghh! Aghh! It got me! It-” He called out in vain,
as the replica glaive was pierced through his face and twisted around
in a gnarly fashion. A spray of blood and teeth scattered across the
floor and also painted a terrible picture on the nearby wall.
“Oh my god
- they killed Kenny!” Smithers knew it was improper to call a
teammate by his actual first name in an operation like this, but he had
known Kenny Krasovic since their own stint in the army together.
“That bastard!”
“Keep it
together, people!” Blitz ordered, they were practically
shooting at shadows. “Whatever this thing is, it doesn't have
a heat signature apparently… it must be possessing one of
the dolls!” Something warm had just sprung itself into
Blitz’s face. The enemy knew that by disabling their optics
and dirtying their goggles, it would gain the advantage.
“Blitz is
combat ineffective!” Monroe called out. Her voice was soft
but hardly feminine. A soft spoken elite, if there ever was one. While
Blitz tried to wipe the red that stained his goggles off and soaked at
the mouth of his mask, effectively waterboarding him - Monroe was on
the prowl. “It's attacking from above and below! It
doesn’t want to face us on ground level!”
Beser had enough of
this, he left his position and stormed into relief Blitz.
“Get back, commander! I got this!”
“Beser?!
You goofy motherfucker, get back in position!” Blitz had
removed his helmet and mask, he was back in the fight - if even for a
minute.
Unfortunately, it was
not so easy for Smithers. On his tactical retreat back to the main
force, something stabbed him in the side from behind - bypassing his
plate carrier and tactical rigs entirely. “Gahh!
Gahh!” His lungs began to fill with blood and soon as he
collapsed forward, something grabbed his helmet from behind - lifting
his head up. Smither’s vulnerable throat was ripped open like
a peeled and split orange as an aztec blade - repeatedly stabbed him at
his vitals.
Mayhem had completely
taken over the scene and soon, Monroe’s magazine was empty.
“Changing mag!” Hitting the mag release and
reaching into her carrier for another stick-o’-rounds, she
didn’t even realize something had sliced her fingers off.
Pathetically, her bleeding nubs dabbed at the magazines on her rig and
before she knew it - something had gashed her across the face.
Collapsed to the
ground, Blitz was first to try and help her. “I got you, I
got you, don’t worry-” He beckoned, reaching for
her when he was stopped by the haunting sound of a grinding music box.
“The hell is that?!” Looking into the darkness, the
blood-soaked glistening blades charged.
What Beser saw when
he went to respond to the attack would scar him forever. Monroe had
been damn near decapitated and a KA-BAR knife had pinned
Blitz’s hand to his chest. “My god,
no…”
Beser held a hand up to his mask, trying not
to vomit at the sight of the demon-puppet skull-fucking the bleeding
eyesocket of his commander, Blitz. The man was still gasping his last
breaths of air before the giant phallus crushed into his skull and
penetrated his brain-basket.
“A pretty
song… isn’t it?” The demon asked and
chuckled. Sounding like a box of nails and rocks being shaken.
“It has been a long time since I got to play and have this
much fun with people’s bodies~”
“Prepare to
eat lead, baby!” Beser’s bad-ass action hero line
fell short when the demon-bot quickly grabbed the severed head of
Monroe and punted him clean in the chest with it. It made Beser fall
back and fumble with his comrade’s head before he pissed his
pants and crawled back. “What the fuck is wrong with
you?!” He cursed.
And now, as he was
off guard - the possessed mass of parts trailed on toward Beser, who
was too afraid to even raise his gun in defense. Sid had no choice but
to get involved. He thought the soldier-boys would spare well enough
against the demon. But whatever De Ascanio had brought into the world,
it was something unlike anything he had ever seen.
“Ain’t
no joy in looting a dead soldier…” Sid remarked as
he was just barely able to retrieve a submachine gun from
Flake’s body. “Your country salutes you,
uhhh… wherever ya from, my guy.”
These demonslayers
went out fighting like heroes, Sid was going to ensure it was not in
vain. Luckily, guns may have advanced a lot since his time, but the
philosophy remained simple. Aim and fire. “Hey, doll
boy!” He mocked ironically.
“What is
it…” The demon stopped in its pursuit of Beser,
after it had just stood over him and was prepared to cleave his throat
to pieces. “Compensating for something… little
guy?”
“I’ll
show you a little guy…” Sid propped the submachine
gun against his hip and used most of his whole hand to pull the
trigger. “Say ‘goodnight’ to my little
friend here…” A burst of bullets erupted from the
gun in full auto, however - the recoil was enough to send Sid right on
his ass. It wasn’t too spectacular.
But, luckily, most of
the rounds managed to hit their mark. The demon-dummy looked out right
hurt as it took a dozen or so rounds that splintered into its body.
Sounding like an entire tree had been fed into a wood chipper.
“Gahh!” It screeched, running away on all fours and
outside through the destroyed door. The cowardly thing retreated coated
in the blood of brave men.
“I should
have stayed covering the door…” Beser was pissed
at himself, but now he was on his feet and pursuing the monster onto
campus. “You coward! Get back here! Get back here!”
He yelled at it, as it ran across to the courtyard. Nearby, a four door
SUV vehicle in black with blank plates was parked with the engine still
idling.
“I’ll
get you…” Beser stopped, knowing that before he
could pursue that demon, he had to do something about the other doll.
Even if it did help him. “Dammit, shit!” He cursed,
turning around with a facing movement and pounding the grass as he
sprinted back.
Inside, Mati had
tilted the crate forward, knocking it and herself over with a loud
crash.
“Sid! Sid, are you okay?!” She called out,
crawling and looking around frantically. “I-In the name of
God, oh my…” Even in the darkness, the glow of the
moonlight from the atrium nearby still showed the silhouettes of
gutted, eviscerated and tormented bodies.
“W-what
could have done something like this…” She asked
out loud.
“Don’t
worry about that, look at you!” Sid pushed the gun aside, as
it had pinned him to the ground for a moment. He ran over and stopped
just a meter away. “That’s… looking
bad…” Matilde’s entire arm was drenched
in red.
“What
about-” Mati was cut off with the sound of heavy boots yet
again entering. Panting, the soldier named Beser stood before them in
complete battle-rattle. His chest heaving and his gun being ready to
fire if he had to.
The two of them were
barely visible, but Beser was smart enough to see now that the doll was
somehow helping this girl. And… it did get that demon off
his own back. Lowering his weapon, he grasped a small pack from his
tactical belt and unclipped it.
Sid took a few steps
forward, putting himself between the soldier and the girl. Beser tossed
him a black pouch with a red cross fastened on it.
“That’s an IFAK… it has medical supplies
and instructions inside on how to use it.” Beser announced.
Sounding and looking like the hero he tried to be earlier.
Which still was hard
to take seriously with the front of his trousers being visibility wet
underneath the patch of moonlight that did make it into the room.
“I’m going to track down and
kill…” He pointed to the corpses all around them.
“Whoever or whatever the fuck did this to my
guys…”
With a huff, he
turned and was already heading out to the car again. “There
are other IFAKs on the corpses, if they aren’t too torn
up…” One foot out the doorway, he said one last
passing thing before he left entirely, leaving the two alone.
“You can help… if not, stay the hell out of my
way.”
“What a
tough ass… For a kid with wet drawers.” Sighed
Sid, looking back to Matilde. “Let’s get you
patched up, chick. This night just got a hellova lot more
wild… ya hear? And you need to be in some tip top shape for
some demon-huntin’...”