The New Kid (31 page)

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Authors: Temple Mathews

BOOK: The New Kid
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“Natalie?”
Natalie’s eyes opened and though she was trying to be brave she could not hide her terror. Her sister wept and whimpered beside her. Will unsheathed his Death Hacker.
“Hold still, I’m getting you out of here.”
Natalie could still move her mouth and whispered a warning as she shook her head from side to side.
“Cut one and two grow back, Will.”
He understood. He would have to bend time and slice and dice faster than he ever had before or the sisters would be engulfed entirely by this living web. He rapidly took stock of how they were being held and was measuring where his first cuts would land when he saw something in Natalie’s eyes and felt a brush of wind behind him that made him duck. And it was a good thing, because two demonteens had just swooped in, double swords drawn, and the blade that one of them swung would have surely lopped Will’s head off. Spinning around as he wielded the Death Hacker Will deflected their blows, fighting off their onslaught.
Because his Death Hacker’s blade could change shape in mid-swing he had a mighty advantage and though they fought with cunning he still managed to slash the punks to shreds. Then he turned and took a deep breath. In a series of rapid-fire swipes with his Death Hacker he cut both Natalie and Emily free. The vein web creature wailed in pain and agony and the sliced arteries spurted blood and whipped around like fallen power lines.
Will helped Natalie and Emily hustle down a tunnel. Natalie’s eyes were still wild with fright, blood staining the night clothes she’d been wearing when she was kidnapped, and she looked to Will.
“We’ve . . . got to get out of here. . . .” she stammered.
“We will. Right after I find my father,” said Will.
No sooner had the words spilled from his mouth than he again saw Rage just up ahead, racing toward a massive cavern entrance filled with a bright light.
“Just stay behind me,” said Will, unwilling to send them on without him or to let this opportunity fall through his fingers when he was so close.
In seconds they were at the entrance. They stood in awe and surveyed what was before them. Natalie’s voice was hoarse as she croaked out three simple foreboding words.
“Oh my God. . . .”
This was no ordinary cavern they were looking at. It was as huge as an indoor stadium, a massive underground structure that had been excavated and built up and adorned with carvings and drawings.
That’s what the slag heaps were all about
, thought Will. The demons had been busy little suckers; this wasn’t just a hole in the ground, it was an underground dome. Dominating the room was a set of colossal marble thrones. They were unique because it appeared that you stood inside them rather than sat on them, and they were part of some gigantic elaborate locking mechanism. The whole thing was intricately carved from stone and surrounded by a myriad of symbols chiseled into the circular floor, which was also made of marble and appeared as though it was capable of rotating. Off to one side was a marble sarcophagus.
Will’s stomach turned. This wasn’t just some meeting place. For these heinous, dreadful creatures it was a place of worship. It was nothing less than a cathedral. He knew that one of the thrones was for the Dark Lord. But who was the other one for? And who was the sarcophagus for? He knew deep in his gut he was about to find out.
Chapter Twenty-Four: The Prophecy
R
age was standing next to a burbling dome, a lava clot in the center of the cathedral. Bursts of steam and globs of molten lava kept blasting up out of the clot. A tiny bit of lava landed on Rage’s cheek and burned his flesh and he barely flinched, just motioned with his fingers, mocking Will, entreating him, taunting him. Will stepped into the open space carefully, speaking softly to Natalie and Emily.
“Stay here. It’s going to be okay.”
How it could possibly be okay was something neither girl could fathom but Natalie nonetheless nodded her assent and tugged Emily down with her into a crouch to watch, just out of sight of a nearby demonteen wearing red face makeup. Will walked forward, his eyes darting back and forth between the Dark Lord and Rage and the dozens upon dozens of demons who had gathered to watch the proceedings. It was like walking into the arena at the Colosseum in Rome, and Will knew one thing for sure. In the drama that was about to play out he wouldn’t be a lion but a Christian. He turned and leveled his best tough-guy gaze up at the Black Prince.
“What do you want?”
“It is not a matter of what I desire,” said the Dark Lord.
He dropped down from above, snarled, and then calmly floated to one of the thrones and stood. He picked up a human skull and fondled it like one would a household pet. Seeing the creature responsible for her months of torment, Emily tensed and began to tremble. Natalie wrapped a comforting arm around her sister but her body still shook from fear. Natalie stole a glance at the red-faced demonteen perched above them. If he noticed them they’d be in big trouble.
The Dark Lord now shouted: “What we desire is of no consequence! It is what is
written
.”
As these words flowed from the Dark Lord’s mouth the entire congregation of demons in attendance began chattering and shrieking and clattering their weapons. They were ready for a really big show, and Will knew he was part of it. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to call upon his power rod because if the Dark Lord somehow got his grubby paws on it he would be two-thirds of the way to attaining the ultimate power. Will promised himself again that he would do anything to prevent that from happening. He would have to win this battle without his power rod. The Dark Lord spoke in low murderous tones, his voice rising in timbre as he jabbered in demonspeak. It was a horrendous sound but the crowd seemed to love it because they began to echo his words. The air was thick with tension and Will was in danger of succumbing to a pervasive feeling of inevitability, as though he was losing his free will and could only play along in whatever game they all had in mind. He knew he had to shake things up.
“Hey, crow face! You got something to say, speak human!”
The Lord of Darkness cocked his head as though he wasn’t sure he’d heard Will right. He crushed the skull he was holding and it crumbled into a fine dust. Natalie held Emily tighter, wondering why Will was deliberately provoking the beast. It would have been a great time right then for one of his brilliant heroic plans.
“Yeah, I’m talking to you! The one who got beat with an ugly stick!”
The Dark Lord grumbled and snarled and vomited a stream of toxic puke that splattered on the floor of the cave.
“Wow. That’s really cool,” said Will. “Man, I sure wouldn’t want to see you with diarrhea!”
The Dark Lord stood up abruptly and with his right hand sent a string of power zapping toward Will, who saw it coming and deflected it with one of his metallic elbow pads. He wasn’t so lucky with the sphere of pain that followed; it glanced off his ear and hurt like hell. But nonetheless he put on a cocky brave face.
“Give it up, Jerk of Darkness. If you free my father now I will consider sparing you. Otherwise. . . .” Will made a throat-slicing gesture and gurgled an appropriate sound effect. He was terrified inside but strangely calm at the same time. It was somehow easier to be blatantly dissing the monster than trying to reason with him or play his game of fear.
The Dark Lord raised a claw like he was going to hurl another attack at Will but suddenly seemed to change his mind. Smiling through his ragged yellow teeth and narrowing his glowing yellow eyes he hissed at Will, “Your attempts at humorous bravado are amusing, but we have an agenda, young Will.”
The Dark Lord made a motion with his fingers that caused Rage to convulse as he held his head, the shark leeches still inside digging deeper into his brain. Rage screamed at the top of his lungs.
“WILL! If you want your father you must come through meeeee!!!!”
Then Rage pulled out a sword and charged at Will, swinging the weapon wildly, blood flying from his ears as his head bobbed back and forth. Will used the Death Hacker to deflect Rage’s blows. It was a classic blade-on-blade fight and the demons above screeched so loudly the cathedral shook. They spoke demonspeak but soon Will could decipher their simple chants.
“Kill! Kill! Kill!”
Will knew Rage meant to kill him and he fought with every bit of skill and dexterity he’d developed in all his years of training and of hunting and wasting demons. Rage was good, but Will was better and he used expert footwork, adapting, flexing, evading, nearly dancing as they fought on and on, Will’s Death Hacker performing flawlessly, morphing, changing shapes, growing longer or shorter, bending into a loop or becoming straight as an arrow as necessary. He was beating Rage down, wearing him out. The mature demon was sweating and was in obvious agony due not only to Will’s blows but the shark leeches as well. And as he grew weak he left an opening and Will seized the moment, thrusting the Death Hacker downward and cutting off Rage’s pinkie finger. The demon bellowed in pain.
For a brief moment Will felt something very strange for the demon: pity. It was enough to make him pause and Rage looked shocked but still ripped a strip of cloth from his shirt and began cinching it around the pinkie stump to staunch the flow of blood.
As the demon was attending to himself Will glanced down at the lava clot and saw that he could actually see
into
it. He blinked because he could hardly believe what his eyes were telling him was below. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen or even imagined before. It was a version of Hell that made the paintings of Dante’s Inferno he’d seen in art books look like a teddy bears’ picnic. He was staring down into the Infinite Caves of Suffering Demons.
The massive underground space wasn’t just a cave, it was another world, another dimension. It was the true underworld. In it were untold scores of demons, millions of them stretching down as far as the eye could see, all the demons that had ever been toasted throughout the ages. And more were arriving every moment, demons, ghosts, and ghouls from all over the world coming in on streams of liquid light, freeways for the damned, all so very eager to be first in line to burst forth from the portal once the key had opened it.
But where is the key?
wondered Will. If the Dark Lord had this whole space set up, it must mean that he had it, or was close to obtaining it, and Will had to prevent him from using it. He recognized a few of the demons that he’d sent there personally and imagined they would not exactly be filled with joy should they have the opportunity to meet him again. The whole lot of them was slathering and writhing in agony, lusting to be set free from their torment, eager to spill up in a flood, regenerate, and overtake the earth like a plague with their unforgiving evil. But without the key, they couldn’t be set free.
Will’s battle with Rage resumed. The Dark Lord, the true Demon Master, watched, his eye sockets narrowed into saffron slits, his mutated face twisted into an ugly sneer. He seemed to take great pleasure in the fight, even though Will was clearly gaining the upper hand. When a hapless demonteen made the unfortunate mistake of flying down to get a better look at the fight and blocked the Black Prince’s line of sight he paid the ultimate price when the Dark Lord—in a shockingly sudden burst of anger—flew out and skewered the demonteen on his outstretched claw and then flung him backward into a corner. The demonteen’s body slammed into the rocks just above Natalie and Emily and his body flopped down, lifeless now, and degenerated. His weapon, a tri-blade sword, clattered on the rocks. Natalie eyed it, her heart beating fast. The red-faced demonteen nearby sniffed the air, his nostrils growing huge, and Natalie’s muscles tightened. Could he smell them? Would she be able to get to the tri-blade sword in time if he found them?
As Will continued to pound away at Rage with his Death Hacker, Rage grew weary, and Will pounced on him like any predator would their wounded prey. He formed the Death Hacker into a three-pronged fork and stuck Rage deep in the shoulder. The wound must have been severe; Rage began a metamorphosis, losing his demon skin and becoming more and more human-like, his face going all rubbery as it changed and transformed, as though a greater power was molding him into what he was supposed to be.
Will heard a commanding growl and out of the corner of his eye caught sight of the Dark Lord leaping down from his throne and landing between the two combatants, his strength and weight bringing such force to bear that the solid granite beneath them cracked asunder.
“Though the irony of the situation pleases me, I feel we should do this together, Will,” croaked the Dark Lord. And then he drew a power rod from inside his leathery chest. It was nearly identical to Will’s, except it had no retrieval sleeve on it. The Dark Lord activated the lightning saber and, with a move so blinding swift that Will barely saw it, stabbed Rage full on in the stomach.
Rage moaned, his features still morphing, and doubled over. The power rod blade had passed entirely through him and he was writhing in agony. The lance had impaled against a boulder and the lightning saber continued to sizzle his flesh. The shark leeches flopped harmlessly from his ear canals and a cloud of gas formed around him. His demon self seemed to be gone now and as he lifted his head up the small hairs on Will’s neck rose and a chill raced up and down his spine.
“Dad. . . ? EDWARD?”
Rage was Edward
. Will had very nearly killed his own father!
“NOOOOOOO!” shouted Will, tears spilling from his eyes.
The Dark Lord’s own glowing pus-colored eye sockets opened wide as he delighted in the misery he was causing and Rage, now almost completely transformed back into Edward, looked at Will with such agony that it nearly broke Will’s heart.
“I’m sorry, Willie.”
“Oh God, Dad. . . .”
Edward’s voice was a ragged series of gasps as he spilled the facts.

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