The Quarter Moon (Afterlife saga) (27 page)

“No øjesten, just wait for it
.” My large protector said after stopping me from walking through the open doorway. So I did as he asked and waited for something to happen. I didn’t have to wait long. The bone stick man moved closer to where there was a wall mounted strip light and it flickered madly the closer he drew. Then he raised his hand to the plastic casing and pushed against the light. The beam of yellow turned crimson and then the two doors ahead of us swung open with such force I jumped back. Sigurd’s arms locked around me to hold me steady.

The two doors now touched each other as their hinges had been together in the middle. I looked into the red glow and where I expected to see a tunnel leading to doom, what I saw made me speak.

“A cleaning cupboard...! Really?” I heard a chuckle behind me and then a hiss from the creature in front.

“Just watch
, lille øjesten.”

I did as I was told and soon found myself gasping. The Demon in front pushed the light until it disappeared all the way into the painted brick wall and then the red light started to come from inside the cupboards. The doors started to shake as the glow got brighter and then before I knew what w
as happening, the parts that were hinged switched sides. Now as the doors slid shut they had become a set of double doors instead of two separate ones. The fire extinguisher in the middle of them started to melt just as the doors were closing and it puddled on the floor causing me to step back.

The new substance spread out in a line as though forming some sort of demonic red carpet. It stopped an inch before my booted toes. I whipped my head up in shock and saw the white figure holding out one painfully thin arm. Did this guy even have flesh?

“After you, Bitches.” He said and I cringed in place of a smile. The doors now held a pair of knobs that looked like stone skulls in the shape of rabbit’s heads. I took one step forward on the remains of the fire extinguisher and then nearly jumped a mile when the doors started to reopen.

“I’m not sure she wants to go down there
, Hunter.” The demon all but sniggered and I heard the usual growl vibrate from behind me.

“Go ahead øjesten, I’ll take care of you
.” He whispered sweetly in my ear, emphasizing his words with a little squeeze of my shoulders. So I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the dread lying in the pit of my stomach like a block of dry ice. I walked forward and thought sarcastically, well I wanted to know where the dark tunnel to doom was, now I’d found it! Of course, now it looked like I was about to walk down a staircase straight to Hell and the red lighting that seemed to come from nowhere was helping with that fear.

My one constant strength in all this was the feeling of Sigurd at my back and every now and again I would draw comfort from his touch. The further we went down the harder it became to breathe, as though the air was being sucked out through the rough cut stone that belonged to deep earth. You could actually see the tool marks that had chipped aw
ay at the stone no doubt through years of hard labour.

A few times I almost slipped and it would have been a painful time for my back landing on stone steps
, if it hadn’t been for my guardian. I was happy though that the sides of the tunnel travelled up into a high peak and this wasn’t only to help with the claustrophobia, but more down to my large friend being able to descend the steps in comfort.

I don’t know how long it took us but it felt like we had made our way down thousands of steps and I wondered if this actually wasn’t the route to
Hell itself. Surely we were deep enough? I was just about to start voicing these opinions aloud when finally the bottom could be seen. My relief was let out in a grateful sigh and Sigurd grunted his laughter by my neck.

“Now for the tricky part
.” I nodded my understanding but just as we came to the bottom he spun me round to look at his covered face. His lips were in a grim line and I soon found out why with his next words.

“No, you don’t understand. I know how well your mind blocks out my kind
, but down here, so close to the forces that breed us, those walls you built will crumble to dust the second you step through that door.” I turned to see the door he spoke of but his grip tugged my attention back to him.

“You will be defenceless in this Keira,
if they want you to see them you will have no choice…you think you’re ready for that? And if the time is forced upon us…ready for me?” Was this what he was really worried about, that I would see his other side? That I would freak out and run from him? I may not be able to see this fear in his eyes, but I knew anxiety when I felt it.

“Please don’t worry about me Sigurd, I know what I am getting myself into
.” I said trying to sooth his fears but when I turned around to face the entrance that held my own fears, his words made my breath hitch.

“I sure do hope so
, lille øjesten, because…” He walked past me and stood near the door ready to open it and release a world that I really wasn’t ready to become a part of.

“…the Beast knows we’re here.”

Chapter 26

Freakin’ Show Me the Host

The door opened and instead of the sound of flesh hitting flesh and grunts of pain
, my ears filled with the musical chimes of…fairground music? It was an eerie, disturbing sound that didn’t remind me of happy childhood memories, that was for sure. It was a darker version with its tap tapping and dings on triangles with an undercurrent of haunting cries, humming to a deadly tune.

I couldn’t help the shudder
, quickly followed by goosebumps adorning my flesh.

“Sigurd, what…what is this place?” I
asked on a whisper and grabbed his jacket from behind. He turned his head down and round looking at me over his shoulder before stating softly,

“This is
a Demon’s playground.”

I followed his movement closely as we walked into a curtained area
, where the music grew louder, along with my anxiety. Swathes of material in dirty yellows, oranges and reds swept down from the ceiling where they were gathered and pulled back to create an entrance way. A box that came up to my waist stood to one side and this was made from worn looking crates that some time ago had been painted in white and red strips. Sigurd stopped at the box and thumped down a sideways fist, making me jump.

“Blim
ey, you’re a big fella ain’t ya?” I looked down to where the voice came from and saw a dwarf demon wearing a crumpled, wide pin striped suit of white and grey, making it look as though someone made the thing from old fashioned prison clothes. His face was painted into a crude sad face with high arches for eyebrows and a small black dot on the end of his nose. He was smoking a cigarette and wearing a bowler hat that had a dead rose attached to one side.

The Dwarf looked up at Sigurd and then shrugged his shoulders before walking round the other side of the striped box. It sounded like he was heaving himself up until his head came back into view.

“Payment in the hat, Sunny Jim.” He said nodding his hat off his head and rolling it down his arm before catching it in his hand. I squealed as I saw his head. He had what looked like a massive bullet hole on the top of his bald skull and a spoon handle sticking out, at an angle.

“Ya
looking at something, missy?” He said cocking his head to one side along with a hand on his hip. I almost gagged when I saw blood spill down his head in a little gush, thanks to the motion.

“No
, she isn’t. Now, how much Kobold?” Sigurd snapped making the little guy frown in a way that also made his lips scrunch to the side.

“Names Puck
A.C.T.U.A.L.L.Y.” He said emphasising each letter slowly.

“Yeah
, well tell someone who gives a flying fuck…
Puck
!” The dwarf huffed a cute little growl before giving Sigurd a sneer and shaking his hat.

“
Price is a tenner, you big asshole, fifteen for bringing your own little Goth bitch in with ya!” At this, it was now Sigurd’s turn to growl, only I had to say hands down he won on the intimidation front. The striped box shook slightly in reaction to Sigurd’s outburst of anger. But before things could escalate, I fished out the fifteen quid and stepped up to put it in his hat.

“Well
, at least it’s cheap.” I said in an overly enthusiastic tone.

“Yeah
, just like your date.” Puck said and Sigurd’s rumbling growl got a level deeper. I just managed to grip his arm which was coming up to lash out at the suicidal dwarf.

“Sigurd please, let’s just go deal with the reason we are here
.” I pleaded, before this guy lost his little head to a work related injury.

“Fine
!” He snapped before relaxing his fist into a flat palm that he slapped down onto the box. Puck looked a little relieved and reached up to grab the spoon from his head. I couldn’t help my gag reflex when I saw him slap a dollop of blood from the spoon onto the back of Sigurd’s hand. I then watched as the blood turned into a stamp that was an upside down triangle with a little V underneath it that the ends of the triangle curled across back on itself. I saw him then flex his large hand, after pulling it from the box.

“You
’re next, Goth Bitc…” He was stopped short when Sigurd’s hand whipped out and cut the end of that word from his strangled breath.

“Beauty…I…
mea…nt… beauty.” He said with great difficulty.

“Aye, I thought you did
.” Sigurd said letting go, making the little guy cough.

“If you will…” The growl made him add a hasty “Please”
and I stepped forward. I felt the big guy at my back and looked to the little guy in front of me, when I heard the soft words of encouragement whispered in my ear.

“
Hand flat, palm down and don’t make a noise as it burns.”

“Uh…come again?” I said thinking this was one
Hell
of a bad idea!

“Don’t worry P
rincess, it’s more like a little tickle...” Puck leaned forward and whispered behind a little hand,

“Think of it as a loving caress by the Devil
.” He winked at me and I groaned whilst rolling my eyes.

“Yeah right!” I said as I
rolled up my sleeve and slapped my hand down, just as Sigurd had done.

“That’s the spirit
, human!” He smiled showing a row of tiny pointed teeth that all had gaps in between. I tried not to grimace as he reached up once again for his spoon, but I don’t think I accomplished it. Then I closed my eyes and repeated softly,

“There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home
,” making Puck chuckle.

“Oh
, she’s a corker this one!” He said and I opened my eyes just as the liquid touched my skin. The blood started to itch at first but then, as it changed shape, the burning started. I was about to move it away when Sigurd came to restrain me, keeping my palm firmly against the box.

“Give it time
,
my
øjesten.” He said sweetly and I let his scent roll over me as the burning started to subside. He eased his hold but instead of letting me go completely, he took my hand in his and led me away from Puck. I looked down at my slightly throbbing hand and saw that I now had the same mark that Sigurd did. It looked like a stamp you would have received at a nightclub.

“Welcome to The Devil
’s Ring ya bastards, you be sure to have fun now!” Puck shouted at us, as we walked through the curtained doorway. I looked back to see him grinning and snapping his teeth at me in what looked like pure Demonic glee.

“What…what was that?” I stammered out as I was practically being dragged along through the long curtain entrance
, that didn’t seem like it would ever end. Sigurd stopped swiftly and then raised my hand up for his inspection. His thumb made soothing little circles over it before answering me. I looked up at him and I could just imagine the vulnerability he must have seen in the depths of my eyes. I could safely say that, considering how I was feeling right now. I had no doubt I must have looked like a scared baby deer looking down the barrel of a shotgun, silently begging the hunter with my eyes.

“That is the
Grimoirium Verum, or ‘Grimoire of Truth’.

“The what
?” I said while no doubt raising a sceptic eyebrow.

“It’s also know
n at the Sigil of Lucifer.” He said as though getting frustrated.

“Ok, so I am getting
that it has something to do with the Devil, but what’s it now doing on my hand?” At this he groaned and ran his free hand down his hooded head.

“
Seal of Satan! Alright, it’s the bloody Seal of Satan…you getting it now?” He snapped making me snatch my hand back to stare at the mark.

“So
, let me get this straight, I have now signed myself up as some kind of Devil worshiper?” I snapped back. I swear I could hear his eyes rolling at my response.

“Not yet
, no, but with your insane ideas about taking a little trip to his place of residence, then I wouldn’t say you’re far off…now come on and let’s get this shit done, I’m hungry.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes as he walked on ahead.

“
Why am I not surprised…three bacon butties, half my damn birthday cake and even swigging back the bloody milk jug with the tea service, didn’t take the edge off!” I muttered whilst following him into the arched doorway at the end of the grubby material hallway.

“What can I say,
gotta lotta meat on these old bones that like a little thing called substance.” He said sarcastically before pounding a fist on his chest. I patted his arm and said,

“Sure you do
, caveman,” making him growl. But right now that sound just added to the background of utter insane surroundings, dragging the only question from my gaping wide mouth,

“What the Fu…!” The sound of a fog horn sounded before my curse could be fully heard.

“Step right up my fudgling pretties and show the room your beautiful twin ditties!” A bellowing voice sounded from the centre of the cavernous space.

“He means breasts
, doesn’t he?” I said in a stunned voice, standing by his side in frozen wonder. 

“
God, I hope so…come on my little Goth snack.” He said grabbing my hand to pull me further into the cosmic joke that was the room I was now standing in.

“Funny
, Flintstone.” I commented dryly.

We walked further into th
e circular room that looked as though it had been crudely carved from the solid rock and I shuddered to think of what was powerful enough to have accomplished such a mammoth task. The surface had then been whitewashed before different fixtures could be mounted. Like the entrance way, the place screamed out demonic fairground Carnival and had swathes of decaying material hung down in lines, creating some creepy vision of a Big Top. The yellows were dirty, the oranges were ripped and frayed and the red were splattered in stains that not surprisingly looked to be blood. In the gaps between the hanging material there were upside down crosses, that no doubt also represented the Devil. But the most shocking was the person sized iron cages all stacked up in towers attached to different sections of the walls. These held a sickening array of different demons and…

“Chickens?” I questioned out loud making Sigurd
lean down to whisper something,

“They are for the games, along with the fools that
angered the Beast and are awaiting punishment.” He nodded at the cages and I shuddered just thinking about what that punishment could entail.

The rest of the room was split into different sections but all focused around the large stage in the centre. It reminded me a bit like an abandoned theatre and all at once I was hit with the haunting memory that the dark shadows of Sigurd’s mind had shown me. Was this why? Because he knew on some level that this was where my fate would bring us? I didn’t have any of the answers and this was hardly the place to start questioning my large protector on the matter.

Seating was sectioned into three parts with large open spaces in between that were crowded with an array of demons like you would find in a nightclub. The fading burgundy material on the chairs was ripped and worn as if it had been installed decades ago and never bothered with since. The cobwebs and grime only added to my assessment, as when one was sat on, a little cloud of dust fanned up around the shoulders of a demon wearing a patchwork jacket. I felt sick when he turned his head to the side to speak to another Demon and I saw half his cheek was decayed, leaving a gaping grey hole where his jaw bone could be seen, like a gory window displaying his skeleton.

On the stage
was who I imagined to be the Ringmaster, although not surprisingly, like none I had ever seen before. He stood in the centre alone, but his booming voice was the one that had shouted for the girls to step up. He was dressed in tight fitting black trousers that tucked into knee-high boots of high polished black leather that were buckled all the way up with copper spikes. His slim build was shown through the white shirt tucked into his waistband then finished off with a thick belt of blood red silk tied tight and left hanging to his knees from the knot at the side. The ruffles around the neck of his skirt were framing the mass of red ruffles in the same crimson silk at his waist. This was all topped off with a black, red and white stripped waistcoat, matching top hat that was double the regular size and black satin gloves that pulled up over the sleeves of his lavish shirt.

His costume
, however, wasn’t the big shocker, nor was the massive goggles that rested at the rim of his hat, making him look a bit like a Steampunk explorer. No, it was his face. The beaming white skin that was a startling canvas for the harsh black features that had you screaming ‘evil’! Thin diagonal slashes formed wicked eyebrows that made him look constantly disapproving, ones that match his shadowed cheekbones. His thin black lips cut upwards in a sinister smile, that was a sarcastic contradiction to his disapproval but his eyes added no clues to his feelings. They were two round orbs of cloudy white, stamped with a pair of black X’s in the centre or shadowed lids. So, to say he was creeping me out, was a gross understatement!