Inferno: Chapter 12 (788 hits)
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Submitted by SoxSexSax (View user info) at 2004-05-24 21:14:36 EDT
Chapter 11: http://www.ubersite.com/m/18528
Chapter 10: http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=10676141967013473
Chapter 9: http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=1066487978166723780
Chapter 8: http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=106595175399835122
Chapter 7: http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=106549765998947541
Chapter 6: http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=1064957367793418459
Chapter 5: http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=1064708642207119853
Chapter 4: http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=106445883547967169
Chapter 3: http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=1064345511408928163
Chapter 2: http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=1064195167876012309
Chapter 1: http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=10639441118252674
Finally, the next chapter in the Inferno series. At fucking last, eh? I feel like a right fool for saying that the next installment would be quick. A big thanks to reallybored and Phinch; their chastising was a factor in motivating me to stop making pathetic excuses about why I can't do any 'proper' writing at the moment and to just "get the fuck on with it" (that's a technical term, y'know!)
However, with the delay in mind, this story is now posted with this disclaimer: I do not promise that I will finish it and I do not promise that the next chapter will be prompt. If you invest your time in it, you do so at your risk. I will however try my best.
Chapter 12
Birmingham, England, was as dark and as frightening a place as anywhere else in the world at that moment and Amanda Childs had been glad to return to her small, terraced house near the city centre and turn the lights on. She'd checked to see if the television was receiving anything (which it wasn't, the BBC's world service having finally gone off of the air nearly three hours previously) and then decided she'd simply fix herself some dinner and go to bed, in the hope that the world would seem a brighter place (pun definitely intended) in the morning.
After a frugal meal of jacket potato and baked beans (Amanda, being both an ardent dieter and a rather stubborn lady in general, wasn't going to let her latest weight-loss regime slip just because the weather had gone haywire) she climbed the stairs to her bedroom and changed into her nightgown. She briefly considered not setting the alarm for work the next day (as the weather would provide a reasonably good excuse to make a non-appearance) but eventually capitulated to her generally honest nature. She turned to her clock-radio and began cycling through the digital hours.
The crash of the window shattering nearly stopped her heart beating. She turned around on the spot, ready to scream. The sight that met her ensured that screaming would be a most appropriate response.
The demon before her was tall and muscular, with light brown, scaly skin. In its right hand it held a long wooden javelin with a thin, sharp metal point. Jagged, long teeth hung like fangs from its slobbering mouth and it's eyes were bright red and manic.
Amanda had no choice in the matter. Fear gripped her with powerful arms, and the scream broke forth from her small frame before she had any chance of controlling it.
"That's right, scream," it snarled viciously at her. "It makes it so much more amusing."
It lurched towards her and finally her survival instinct kicked in. She spun away from the demon, shrieking and crying hysterically and ran through the bedroom doorway into the landing.
"Help me," she babbled frantically to nobody as she began pelting down the stairs as fast as she could manage with her nightgown flapping about her legs. Three from the bottom, she stumbled and crashed to her knees in the small hallway, with her left ankle informing her painfully that she'd done it some serious damage. Fear spurred her on though and despite the pain she rose to her feet and reached out for the door latch. She turned it.
Suddenly she felt a jolt followed by a strange numbness and a fairly sharp pain in her stomach. She looked down and saw about a third of the demon's javelin protruding from her body just above the waist, smeared lightly with her own blood.
"Oh God," she moaned softly to herself, and sunk to her knees. She could hear the slow thump of the demon descending the staircase towards her. "Oh God...why?"
The demon gripped the rear of the javelin and tore it loose from her body. The numbness no longer shielded her from the intense agony...but her body no longer had the strength to respond. She slumped sideways with a desperate gasp and lay on her side, blood trickling steadily from her wound. She managed to find enough strength to force her legs into the foetal position. Then she died.
The demon summoned the ball of light that rose from her body to himself and grinned at the pleasure of absorbing the soul. It left through Amanda's front door moments later, aiming to pay her neighbours an equally brief and violent visit.
The screams of others rang eerily through the night.
*
In the city of Sarnia, Canada, four men sat at the bar in a small drinking establishment (unimaginatively named Stan's Joint by its owner, a Mr. Stanley Parks), throwing back drink after drink and talking in low voices. Stan was amongst their number and growing increasingly oblivious to just how much alcohol he was giving away freely to his friends (and, in honesty, he didn't like any of his three drinking partners all that much) as he continued to join them in downing shots of tequila in one go. The bar looked modern, with chrome finished stools and tables and reflective surfaces everywhere you looked. Under normal conditions, Stan made a fairly comfortable living from it.
Like elsewhere in the world, it wasn't difficult to guess their topic of conversation at that moment.
"Well, I reckon it's the Russians," slurred one of the men. "I bet you a million dollars that some commie bastard somewhere has sat on the wrong button and fired one of those chemical weapon things into the sky."
"Nah, bet you it was the Americans," said another. "This is a screw-up with their name all over it."
"Let's get another drink inside us," said the third. This was met with approval and agreement from the other two men. Stan obliged them all with another generous shot of tequila each, which were swiftly downed.
The third man spoke again. "Maybe it's aliens," he said.
"Well, I reckon maybe the devil did it," Stan finally piped up. Three faces immediately turned to him.
"The devil?" hooted the first man. "Stan, my man, even aliens is a better theory than that!"
"Is it?" came a deep voice from behind them. Each man swivelled around simultaneously and then nearly fell from his stool. Before them stood an absolutely massive black demon, with a head that looked similar to a bat's, only much, much larger. Its body was covered in short black hair and its eyes were bright yellow and evil. It's right hand effortlessly grasped a fabulous battle-axe that would have required the strength of both arms from even the world's strongest man to carry and it's left held a long black bull-whip.
"What the hell..." began the first man, appropriately in the circumstances. He didn't have a chance to finish as the demon flicked its whip out at lightning speed, successfully wrapping the cord tightly around the man's neck. With a single jerk of its mighty arms, the spluttering man was dragged helplessly towards the demon. It swung the mighty battleaxe around its head and then outwards, splitting the man's head neatly in two just above the mouth.
Stan was the first to react. He rolled backwards off his stool and onto the bar, before rolling off of that and onto the floor behind. He looked up and saw that one of his drinking buddies was right behind him. Just as Stan thought he was going to get squashed, he heard the crack of the whip again, and the face of his friend staring down at him suddenly showed pain.
"He's got my leg. Help me!" he screamed down at Stan. Instinctively Stan reached out and grabbed his arm but it was futile. One swift tug was all it took to drag the man out of Stan's grip and back over the counter to meet his fate.
"Help me!" was all Stan heard, shrieked manically before the metallic-edged thud that could only mean the battleaxe had once more performed the task for which it was designed.
He could hear his third companion panting and wheezing on the ground. The shock of seeing the demon slice his friends into pieces had proved far too great for his angina prone heart to take, and his life quickly ceased with a shudder and a sigh. It had only been ten seconds since the demon had spoken and Stan was the only one left alive.
He hardly dared take a breath. He listened to try and work out whether the demon was moving but couldn't hear a sound. The phrase 'I'm going to die" kept repeating in his head like a siren. Finally his rational mind managed to get a thought in edgeways.
"Yep, you're gonna die all right if you just lie here trembling like a fool," it said to him. "Crawl man, crawl! And do it quietly."
Ever so cautiously he began sliding himself along the floor, taking great care to ensure that the buttons on his shirt or the fly of his trousers didn't scrape against the worse-for-wear terracotta tiles. His progress was hindered by the cold fear that only impending death can muster, a fear so great it all but froze his muscles stiff. Inch by inch he dragged himself along behind the counter, always expecting the demon to suddenly leap over the bar and finish him swiftly and mercilessly. Finally he came to the edge of the bar. He sat with his back against it, trembling with fear.
Now what do I do, he thought to himself. Do I look out? Stay here? What?
No answer came, and even if one had it would have been drowned out by the ear-splitting shriek emitted by the demon as it stepped behind the counter right next to Stan, looking down at his trembling, fragile body menacingly.
Stan opened his mouth and screamed. It was a very good effort for a man, high pitched, piercing and an extremely accurate representation of fear. But it was cut very short by the demon, who, with an almost casual blow punched a hole into the top of Stan's skull. The last few seconds of his life were dominated by the highly unpleasant sensation of cool air coming into direct contact with his irreparably crushed brain.
The screams of others rang eerily through the night.
*
In Paris, Claude Pascal was torn limb from limb by a demon whilst sitting in his living room and taking advantage of the strange happenings in the sky by watching The Exorcist (his favourite film) in total darkness. The irony of this did not escape the demon, who sat and watched it all the way through before venturing forth and killing every other occupant of Claude's street in a blind rage at the film's ending.
Steven Foster of Melbourne Australia died sitting on the lavatory after a fat, dark-red demon kicked in with ease the door he'd naturally locked for modesty's sake and thrust a sword through him with barely a glance. His last thought was something to do with the embarrassment for whoever found his body.
Chuck Stuart, an accountant from New Jersey living in New York, heard something crash through his three year old son's bedroom window and rushed in to investigate. He survived for barely a second after opening the door; the demon he saw before him unleashed a fireball from which only it was safe. The heat of this blaze was more than sufficient to roast Chuck alive, along with his son, his pregnant wife who was cowering under the covers in their bedroom across the hall and most of their neighbours.
In Germany near Munich, almost seven hundred people rushing to get home on the autobahn perished after a demon killed a truck driver, stole his eighteen-wheeled, thirty tonne lorry and drove it at break-neck speed down the wrong side of the road, swerving dangerously left and right to destroy as many vehicles as possible.
In a small, grimy house on the outskirts of Mexico City, a regular and heavy drug user named Carlo Lopez was dying of a heroin overdose. A small yet surprisingly strong black demon had force fed him an entire kilogram from his personal stash, giggling manically as it tore his face to pieces in its struggle to keep his jaw open.
Jonathan Sonck died in his car whilst driving home to Brussels, Belgium. A huge, slobbering green mass of a demon stepped out into the middle of the main road he had been driving far too quickly down and his car plunged straight into it's fat legs at just under fifty miles-per-hour. The demon walked away unhurt. Jonathan, who had never been one for wearing a seat belt, was sprawled with most of his brain lying beside him on the pavement and broken glass all around.
Twelve thousand people died in an instant in Tokyo when a black colossus of a demon lifted a train from the tracks at Shinjuku Station and hurled it through the main foyer. The casualties would have been less terrible if the demon had not engulfed it in a blazing fireball that instantly ignited anything it came close to.
The screams of others rang eerily through the night.
*
Since John's disappearance a week earlier, Louise Stevenson was staying with his parents. The three of them sat up late at nights alternating between sobbing and sniffling, occasionally mixed with bouts of optimism and hope. The old adage "No news is good news" applied very aptly to the situation they found themselves in; as long as John's body was undiscovered, there was always a chance he was still alive.
However, optimism was in short supply when Kyriss arrived at the house to carry out Inferno's wish. Another day without sign or sound of John had tested the strength of their remaining hope still further. Karen was quietly sobbing in the armchair, while John's parents were sat sombrely on the sofa, with red puffy eyes and very little to say.
The mighty crash as the door was kicked in nearly caused all three to leap right out of their skins. Before any of them had a chance to even breathe, the door to the living room burst open, and Kyriss stepped into their midst. There was human blood smeared over her face and hands and her clothes were ripped and torn in many places. Her face was set in an impassive yet determined expression.
"Which of you is Louise Stevenson?" she asked immediately, in a steely tone.
None of them spoke, partly through fear and partly because none of them knew what to say. John's parents would never have allowed themselves to have been instrumental in Louise's death, and Louise assumed that if she confessed to her identity, her death would swiftly follow.
Kyriss allowed a five second pause and then spoke again. "I will ask once more and I shall be answered. Otherwise three will meet their end instead of one. Which of you is Louise Stevenson?"
Louise capitulated. She raised her shaking hand, tears of fear and desperation streaming down her cheeks. "I am," she managed to sob.
Kyriss took two large steps towards her, reached out and grabbed a huge handful of her hair. With only the slightest effort she raised the sobbing Karen from her seat and suspended her above the ground by her hair. Karen began screaming loudly and thrashing about wildly with her hands, aiming to scratch Kyriss' eyes or face...anything to make the demon release her evil grip on the large handful of hair. Nothing she hit the demon with seemed to have any effect.
John's father rushed at the devil in a moment of pure bravery and fury. It was, however, a futile action. Kyriss nonchalantly flicked her free hand in his direction. It had looked like no more than a tap, but it successfully shattered John's father's nose bone in an instant. He fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, his hand over his blood covered faced.
Kyriss turned her gaze back to Louise. "John is in hell," she hissed quietly. "Why don't you join him?"
Before Louise could even process the demon's words, Kyriss clenched her free hand into a fist. Upon opening it a second later, Louise saw with horror that the demon's finger nails were now black, razor sharp and three inches long. With little warning Kyriss thrust her newly clawed hand forward, driving those long, evil nails deep into Louise's neck. Bright red blood began flowing out rapidly. Her world became a struggle against pain and terror. She tried to scream but just could not get enough leverage behind her voice to do more than croak.
Nothing can describe the feeling of dying at the hands of another in a way as painful as Louise Stevenson endured. For almost ten seconds Kyriss stood motionlessly with her claws sunk into her victims neck, then she smiled and began wiggling her fingers inside John's most precious companion. She felt the demon tearing through her tendons and blood vessels, but her consciousness was fading fast now. With a final whimper, she exhaled her last breath.
Kyriss continued to hold her aloft for a few seconds until she was certain that her masters wish to see Louise Stevenson dead had been fulfilled. When she finally was she dropped it to the ground and held her hand out in front of her. The small globe of light that had just floated ever so gracefully up and away from Louise's body was immediately drawn to it and absorbed by Kyriss.
As soon as the soul was hers she turned and made to leave. John's mother had joined her husband on the floor, and they were huddled together, teary-eyes and trembling, in the corner of the room. Kyriss looked into their fear and grief ridden faces and an evil grin formed on her lips. "You'll keep," she snarled. "We'll come for you later."
She left quickly. John's parents looked at each other and simultaneously broke into unchecked hysteria.
The screams of others rang eerily though the night.
*
Midnight's mother Sandra was doing the washing up in her nicely sized and well kept house in London when Inferno made good on his promise to Midnight and paid her a visit.
It all happened so quickly. She was standing by the sink with her hands buried in soapy water, concentrating all of her energy on a piece of baked on egg and thinking about what to buy her sister for her 50th birthday. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw something moving in her front garden. She looked up...and straight at the imposing figure of Inferno, standing in the middle of her front lawn with a strange little smile on his face.
She had no idea what or who Inferno was, but she immediately knew that this thing was the most evil being that any human has ever encountered. She backed slowly away, trembling with fear and totally unable to take her eyes off Inferno's face. After just two steps her legs suddenly stopped dead. Her brain screamed at them to move, but they seemed to be locked into position.
My legs aren't working, she thought to herself. Oh my God, there's a demon outside my door and my legs aren't working and I can't get away and he's going to kill me.
Desperately she now tried to force her eyelids shut, or to turn her face away from Inferno's. Nothing worked. She couldn't move a muscle...she was completely paralysed. All she could do was look into Inferno's face with a mind filled with utter terror and a body unable to respond. She couldn't even open her mouth to scream.
Inferno raised his hand above his head and held it aloft, as if waiting to give a signal.
This is it, she thought to herself, and she felt as if she would go insane; such was the level of her fear and the hopelessness of her situation. I am going to die in my kitchen, rooted to the spot. I'm not going to...
Inferno flicked his wrist. In mid-thought she sank to the floor, dead. If a post-mortem had been carried out on her body, it would have found that her brain was little more than liquid that looked exactly like milk.
She hadn't even had enough time to see her life flash before her.
Inferno walked away from her house without a sound and with no expression on his face.
The screams of others rang eerily through the night.
User Reviews
Submitted by acrog (user info) at 2004-09-14 11:25:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm soooo glad you din't give up on this.
Please continue
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2004-06-07 13:48:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I missed this, until now.
Submitted by SoxSexSax (user info) at 2004-05-26 07:18:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
"Submitted by reallybored (user info) at 2004-05-25 09:17:47 (#)
Ranking: 2
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, YOU MUST CONTINUE THE SERIES!"
Hmm, seems pointless when I can get far more interest in a frivolous piece written in 20 minutes though...
Submitted by polyamorousaj (user info) at 2004-05-25 11:09:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm giving you a +2 because there are very few people who can make me read a 12-part series. Going back to Number one right now.
Submitted by Razor (user info) at 2004-05-25 10:30:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm way far behind in this series... I have to catch up, which is on my list along with all the other shit I have to do... sigh...
Submitted by reallybored (user info) at 2004-05-25 09:17:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, YOU MUST CONTINUE THE SERIES!
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2004-05-24 23:50:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I decided to just read this one. It was good, regardless of my lack of knowledge of the parts.
Submitted by euripidestrousers (user info) at 2004-05-24 21:27:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
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