My Horror

It all started about a year ago.  There was a new color in the sky.  No, not some new combination of colors no one had yet mixed, this was brand new.  It was something no one had ever seen before or ever new existed.  No one could put into words what they saw because there was no word for this yet.  While distracted by the curiosity, no one seemed to notice any of the other changes which happened concurrently.  I’m not entirely sure what happened, myself, but something looked deep inside us and changed us into something we were not before.  Fantasy had become reality.

Technologically, we were the same.  We all had our cars, smart phones, and flat screen TVs, but a new world, one which previously was exclusively the domain of fantasy novels and games, had been merged with our own. 

Some people had changed specie.  Among the denizens of Atlanta were now elves, dwarves, and fairies, just to name a few.  Well, there have always been fairies in Atlanta, at least in midtown.  Now, though, there were wizards casting spells in Piedmont Park.  There were holy people capable of healing wounds and banishing the undead, which was pretty useful because now there were undead freely roaming industrial areas of town and down in the gulch by Philips Arena.  (This, of course, made casting extras for the Walking Dead a snap.  There was no need for zombie effects makeup artists.  They just used actual zombies.)  There were bards whose knowledge of lore was uncanny and whose songs could tame the wildest of beasts.  Also, they didn’t all play garage rock anymore.

I was the only one who seemed to notice that there was a change.  It was probably because of my special situation.  You see, I was half-demon.  It was kind of a problem.

I was evil.  Not funny, throw devil horns at a metal show evil.  This wasn’t safe, dress up on Halloween evil.  This was real evil.  This was murder evil.  This was eternal damnation evil.  It isolated me from my friends.  It ostracized me from most of the city’s population.  I missed human contact.    

Tonight, though, I think I had arranged things so that I could go to a friend’s party.  I was meeting a few of the old crew at the Midway Pub first for a bite to eat and some pre-party drinking.  I missed hanging out at the Midway.

…

Rich came back from the bar with three pints in his hands.  “Yeah,” he sighed, “we’re not going to get a server out here tonight.”

The patio of the Midway was empty, save for the three of us.  That was unusual, especially on a Friday evening with the spring weather so nice.  The patio had been full when I arrived, but emptied as quickly as people recognized who I was.  I guess I don’t really blame them.  Things tend to follow me: bad things.  Bad things with sharp claws and nasty teeth. 

“They were kind of wondering in there when we’d be leaving,” Rich continued while motioning in the general direction of the inside bar.

“I guess after this pint, then,” I said.  I turned to look at the third member of our group.  “So, Lara, how’s being an enchanter going for you?  Has it helped your jewelry sales on the neighborhood festival circuit?”

 “Yes, in fact it has,” she said with a smile.  This was the first time in nearly a year someone smiled at me.  Regardless of who I am now, I think Lara still remembered who I was.

“What’s your best seller?” I asked.

“Well, rings of invisibility.  But they didn’t quite turn out exactly as I’d meant them to.”

“How so?”

“You know how in movies when people turn invisible, all the stuff with them, their clothes, weapons, whatever, is invisible too.”

“Sure.”

“And everything they carry is invisible unless it needs to be visible for the story to work or for comedic effect.”

“Yeah.”

“It doesn’t actually work like that.  Only your body turns invisible.  All of your clothes, shoes, accessories; even your make-up is still visible.” 

“You’d think a thing like that would be bad for sales.”

“Actually, it really caught on in the club scene,” she laughed.  “People liked going out dressed as outfits.  Clubs were packed out with suits and dresses on the dance floor.  There was even an anonymous hookup culture that grew out of it.” 

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Seriously,” she continued.  “If someone liked your style and moves, they’d make a pass.  Then, when you hooked up, you’d both leave the rings on when you left the club.  After a one night stand, you’d have absolutely no idea who you’d slept with.”

“That’s insane.”

“I think the thing’s run its course,” added Rich.  “Last week at a club I saw someone walking by in just a pair of dangle earrings and heels.  That’s it.  Nothing else.”

“Was she at least hot?” I asked.

“Don’t know, invisible,” Rich said between swallows.  “Also, I’m not entirely sure it was a ‘she’.”

“Oooooooooooh.”

We all shared a smile for a moment.  It was nice.

“Well, let’s give this patio back to the Midway and head over to the party.  I need to make sure everything is going to be safe tonight.”  I stood up from my chair.

“Are you going to let us see it?” asked Lara.

“Well, uh, if you really want to,” I stammered back in my best Jeff, uh, Goldblum imitation.  I wasn’t sure that they’d really want to even if they said yes.

“Yeah,” said Rich.  “I want to see it.”

…

As I said, I’m half-demon.  I am the product of an unholy, and likely unwanted, union between a woman and a demon; probably a rape.  OK, rape.  Let’s just call it rape.  Unlike most half demons, who are rejected by demon-kind as half-bloods, my lineage affords me special privileges.  My father is uniquely powerful.  Due to my exceptional service to him in the netherworld, I’ve been granted some unique liberties.  I am, essentially, a half-demon prince.

Of course he also has powerful enemies.  As his son I am a target.  So, it’s been in my best interest to serve and maintain the strength of the House of Orcus.  Without that protection I could be in real, soul-swallowing trouble. 

So, I’ve been allowed to mostly live in Atlanta fulfilling tasks in this world.  Mainly, I’m collecting souls and delivering them to the netherworld, either for torment or servitude.  Generally, it’s murderers and rapists whose ends I am hastening, so I don’t really feel bad about it.  In fact, I think I’m doing a bit of good through my evil, removing the scum from the city.  I’ll celebrate the ends despite the means I use to accomplish them.

When I’m not here I’m usually down there.  Down there reminds me why I want to be up here and why, really, I wish I wasn’t what I am.  But, I don’t have any choice in the matter and have decided to make the best of it.  Sure, I’ve committed atrocities nearly as horrible as being stuck in traffic on the downtown connector during rush hour.  Then, again, everyone down there is pretty much evil, so I have no qualms about what I do anymore.  I’m starting to like the taste of souls.  I’m certainly starting to enjoy the power I’m gaining.  My mastery of the dark arts is surprisingly advanced.

As prominent of an abomination as I’ve become, it’s drawn some undesirable creatures to Atlanta, worse than the roaches who scuttled out of New Orleans after Katrina.  With something as horrible, powerful, and connected as I am, other evils have moved into the city interpreting my presence as license to work freely in town.  A myriad of malevolent creatures took up residence.  Necromancers began brazenly recruiting from Oakland Cemetery.  Vampires worked at night without fear of reprisal.  These weren’t the twee vampires of the Twilight books or the effete vampires of Anne Rice.  Nope, these were real deal, old school, bite you in the jugular and suck you dry vampires.  It kind of made you long for the days of armed robberies in East Atlanta.

Many fiends sought me out to declare their fealty to my father, either trying to curry favor from him or groveling for leniency.  Because of the crowd I attracted I became persona non grata around town.  I lost all human contact.  I just sat alone, at home, polishing my silver sword.

No, that’s not a euphemism for anything, so get your mind out of Gehenna.

I was given a silver sword by a high family of Githyanki for assisting them in a campaign against a city of Illithids.  I don’t have any particular affinity for the Gith, but I had no problem assisting them in slaying the Illithids because those guys are just dicks.  They’ve got psionic powers; they get in your mind.  They know how to use it effectively.  Even if they can’t hurt you, they’ll use it to intimidate or unsettle you. 

I once saw one of these Mind Flayers suck the brain out of a friend’s skull.  As it was doing that, it projected how my friend’s brain felt in its mouth into my mind.  Live brain feels like a two-minute egg.  Watching that, while feeling that puts a new perspective on things.  It will change your mind on genocide. 

I expect the Githyanki to eventually try to take back the sword.  They generally don’t give them to anyone outside their race.  Besides, they’re evil.  Just because we had a deal doesn’t mean they’ll hold up their end.  In the meantime, I’ll continue to enjoy the sound it makes when it separates a soul from its body.  Listen, if you’re not from the Astral plane, you probably shouldn’t be projecting there.

…

Lara, Rich, Heather, Tim, Al, and I stood in a quiet part of Brownwood Park.  We were on the south end, in that low area near the tennis courts.

“Ok, you guys sure you really want to see it?” I asked for probably the dozenth time since we had arrived.  My question was met by a chorus of yesses.  “You’re all wearing the sigil, right?  The one I sent out?”  Again, there was a smattering of yeahs.  “And everyone at this party, I mean every person, familiar, pet, anyone or anything you’d like to see remain alive tonight has got one, right?”

“Yes, just show us already,” said a visibly unnerved Rich.

“Alright,” I said.  “Remember, the moment you see him you are going to be stricken with absolute terror.  I know Heather has blessed you all, but it’s not going to be nearly enough.  Just hang on to each other and know that with me here, nothing will happen to you…probably.”

…

Parties had become a dicey situation, what with marauding bands of orcs randomly sweeping through or with the ever more bold trolls coming down from the Appalachians to the piedmont.  Despite the fact that I smote Gynt, leader of the hill trolls, on top of Brasstown Bald; the trolls have not been deterred from approaching the city.  Considering my presence at this party, we were sure to draw a crowd.

To combat this I arranged to have my Horror come and patrol the perimeter.  I call it my Horror because I don’t know what else to call it.  I do not know any other name I could use that you would know.  It has always been with me. 

Nothing in this city would survive an encounter with it.  No wizard in town could banish it.  No conjurer could summon an equal.  No cleric could force it back to the netherworld.   No warrior possessed a sword capable of harming it.  It was the perfect guardian for tonight.

…

I began speaking in the silent language.  My mouth was moving, shaping words, but I made no sound save for my breathing.  My Horror appeared.

It flitted down in front of us, maybe twenty yards away.  It landed on a bench, wings still spread overhead. 

It was the color of nothing.  It wasn’t black; it was as if a demon-shaped piece of the universe just did not exist.  It was a hole in reality shaped like a beast of the netherworld.  It was emptier than the void.  It warped the light around it creating an unsettling and nauseating visage.  It even seemed to dampen the sounds around it as it drained everything it came in contact with into absolute nothingness.

I could feel it sucking all that was good from the area, leaving nothing but despair in its wake.  Even I felt a sense of dread as it crouched before us.  It was suddenly unseasonably cold.  Frost spread across the grass.

As many times as I’d seen it, I was still somewhat awe inspired by its malevolent beauty.  For a moment, I was transfixed by its maleficence.  But, Lara’s sobbing reminded me that I was not alone.

“Make it go away!  Make it go away!” she choked out.

I turned to see if Rich was still there to encourage him to comfort her.  He was gone.  I could see him in the distance, running as fast as he could possibly move.  I watched him tumble to the ground, roll, and continue with a bear crawl as he worked his way to his feet without stopping.  He would not look back.

I looked at the others to see how they fared.  Tim was still there and I motioned him toward Lara.  He hugged her close and whispered that everything would be alright. 

I looked at Heather.  All the color had drained from her skin.  Her hair was beginning to turn grey.  It was then that I noticed that she clutched her holy symbol to her chest.

“Stop, Heather.  You cannot do this.  He will drain you.  He will take you.”  I grabbed her by her shoulders and gazed deeply in her eyes.  I tried to pull her back, at least what of her I could redeem.  I got most of her soul back in her body, I think, as much as remained. 

Al was on all fours, vomiting uncontrollably.  By the smell of him, his mouth wasn’t the only orifice evacuating.

Lara continued to sob, to the point of hyperventilation.  “Make…it…go…”

I turned back to my Horror.  Again I spoke to it in the language of silence.  As I mouthed the words, I made a small gesture with my right hand.  With two great pumps of its wings, my Horror lifted itself into the air where it seemed to disappear into the evening sky.  I turned back to face the remaining of my friends.

“Well, that’s it.  That’s what’s doing security for our party tonight.  No one gets in who doesn’t belong.”

“So, what do you feed it,” Tim asked.

I slowly, deliberately, turned toward him.  I leveled a low, hard gaze into his eyes and in the lowest tone I could muster, responded, “Souls.”

There was a slight pause followed by a single forced chuckle as if Tim couldn’t tell if I’d set this all up just to feed their souls to my Horror, or if I was just joking. 

To tell the truth, I was not entirely sure myself.