Twisted Evil

  No more did anybody seem to be blanket by the calm he radiated – his very appearance, though somewhat unsettling, was peaceful and unaggressive – and they all turned to look at this strange creature as he passed. Thankfully, they were too pre-occupied with their own problems to pay him undue attention. Just as he had hoped. But there was a slight problem in his plans for this world. One which he had not seen, but felt, and was now grumbling about to the elders of his species… where-ever they may be.

  “They know we’re her. And they know why we’re here.”

  He was on his knees in a wooden shack. Even though he had no real idea which direction he should be facing, and there were no other demons here for him to be speaking to, he felt at home here. Here, in this dilapidated club house, he felt he could commune with the elders.

  “Who?” a voice boomed, filling the room with reverberating sound. A transparent face shape pushed out from one wall and red mist came from its’ mouth as it spoke. “Who know?”

  “The demons. The lowest of the low.” Garlox looked down at his knees and saw that he was kneeling inside a blue chalk circle which must have been drawn by the occupants of the shack. He felt he should be staring up in awe at his master, but he did not want to risk even a glance. “The Old Ones.”

  “Have you seen them?”

  “No. But I felt them. I know they’re here. They know we’re here.”

  “Forget them. The mission is more important,” the voice rumbled. “The mission makes everything insignificant.”

  Ah yes… the mission. Bringing about the total destruction of the human race would not be too difficult while everyone were so easily led astray. He smiled inwardly but did not show what he was thinking. Master would not like that. “But what if they mean us harm?”

  “Take a look around,” the voice commanded. “This is virtually perpetual sunlight.” Master was right – they wouldn’t come out now. The sun was everywhere.

  “You’re right.”

  “I know I am.”

  Garlox rose from his knees and stepped out of the wavy chalk circle. As the circle was broken, the transparent face melted back into the wall but his voice seemed to hang in the air. He supposed that some typr of psychic energy had been inadvertently transferred to the circle just by being inside it. He did not exit the building just yet.

  He had doubts that the Old Ones could be kept inside, sheltering from the day, for long. No matter how pesky and parasitic bloodsuckers were, they were still demons and would always find a way around problems. It was the survival instinct.

  Mika lifted the window blind, put his hand into the pool of bright light spilling through and watched his hand beginning to burn and smoke. He watched with great interest as his skin began to peel and the once-enticing smell started to rise from his hand and filled his nostrils. So, this is what it felt like to burn. It hurt – he didn’t feel it. He was a homicidal crime-against-nature, maybe he deserved to burn to death. Or maybe that would be too good for him. Perhaps he had to pay for the things he had done, make up for his sins, do a good deed for each crime. But what if forever was not long enough?

  He left his hand burning in the pool of sunlight and let his gaze wander around the room, resting on each of the girls for a short time. Robyn, for so long his mentor and true love, was curled in a corner, sleeping with her head resting on one shoulder. She looked so peaceful and young, no-one would have been able to guess how old she really was. Finely brushed red hair fell around the edges of her face, looking as if it had been styled; pale, flawless skin seemed to glow with energy and the resting glory that proper sleep could provide; the picture of serenity, of innocence. That was a weird, ever-changing concept because how could anyone actually define what innocence looked like. Whatever decisions people came to on that subject, Mika was pretty sure that Robyn would always be it. Certainly, she would always be that picture for him, only in her sleeping hours though. And, he was in no doubt, quite soon that image would be completely shattered…

  A quiet snoring sound came from the middle of the room and Mika found his eyes drawn there, effectively putting a block on any more thoughts about Robyn. Carly had slipped into a fitful doze, uncomfortably leaning back in the swinging computer chair. Her hair had fallen away from her face and her face still held fading assault marks froms days before. She was only a human, did not heal as fast or as well as they did. She would scar and would consequently be left with a lifelong reminder of her time at their mercy, but many of the scars would not be visible and might never heal because they were on the inside. Her skin was a little shiny and grimy from not being allowed to wash. Although she gave the occasional twitch as disturbing memories floated in and out of her agitated mind, she seemed relaxed and no longer as tense and frustrated as in the past few days. He had come to think of the girl as one of his family already and really didn’t know what he would do if she got hurt.

  He did not think he could go on if either of the girls got hurt. His charred hand threatened to catch light and he let it drop away from the window. It sent pain impulses shooting along his nerves to his brain and, belatedly, he acknowledged them. “Ow.” Neither female woke but he was content just to watch them sleep. He wanted neither to stir and deny themselves much-needed time to sleep and re-group their energies; he did not want to sleep himself either, he both was not tired enough for his brain to stop buzzing… and knew that the nightmares would come.

  The nightmares.

  He did not let his thoughts dwell on that subject. Instead of remembering things he had done and could not change – though the threat of them lurked in the back of his mind like an indelible ink mark that got more noticeable each time he tried to erase it – Mika thought about what was happening outside, the possible futures for all of them, and, most importantly to him, the Alvareshnik demons. Had they figured out that they were not destined to bring peace to the world yet, but its’ destruction? Why had no-one realised that it was an impossibility for demons not to cause chaos? He knew the answer to that one. It was some form of denial – the brain just put a block on the thoughts that might shatter their idyll. Did they know that a peace-keeping demon was just something out of a storybook?

  “Mika. What have you done?” yawned Carly, stretching her muscles but not feeling very awake. Certainly not rested and rejuvenated. But she felt like she could sleep forever, even if that should end in little over a day. No, forever was going to last, well, forever.

  She took his blackened and burnt hand in hers and inspected it. He stiffened as she touched him, not quite sure why. Carly held a different kind of innocence to Robyn in her eyes, he noticed. After everything she had seen and learnt over the last week, he did not know how she managed to retain it – but it was there, as clear as the day. Plain to see, and unmistakeable. No more did she question if any of this was real, for it most definitely was, but she accepted it with an admirable grace and desire to learn more.

  Then Carly noticed the unshaded window and her mouth formed a tiny O of realisation. She closed it. “Why?” was her only question. It was the only question.

  “Is this what it feels like to die? Is this what it felt like for all those people I killed?”

  “Not unless you set fire to them,” she chuckled. Then she saw the look on his face, but was not appalled at the mental image. “Oh.” She glanced over at a still-sleeping Robyn, slightly unsettled at the periodic rise and fall of her chest, providing the suggestion of life within – but Carly knew different. Flakes of burnt of skin came away on her skin and fluttered to the ground. “Does it hurt?”

  Robyn slept on, soundly. Blissfully unaware of what was happening.

  “A bit,” he told her, half-truthfully. Then he caught her no-nonsense look and realised that he could not lie to her. He could never lie to her. “All the time.”

  Carly sat back down and regarded him, sceptically. Mika looked like an abandoned child before her and
she wondered what she had been so scared of. She was served a reminder soon enough. Mika’s eyes hardened and he clenched his good fist at his side. He looked dangerous… crazed… unstable, at the very least. He looked as though he might pounce at any moment, his eyes took on a look of a psychopath gone over the edge, totally devoid of rhyme or reason. Carly tensed on her seat and inched back, eyes wide, more with shock at his sudden change in demeanour than fright. Mika stared at her then stalked towards her. Carly was backed up against the computer and could go no further. Her legs were not attached to her body, she could not get out of the chair, and she threw her arm up to protect her face. Just in time. Mika roared and brought his fist, repeatedly on her arm. The fourth time, Carly used her other arm to bat him away and he went spinning over to the bed. She was surprised at how easy it was.

  Mika swallowed and scratched the back of his neck, deliberately not looking at her, then fingered his burnt hand, ignoring the shards of pains that jolted his brain. Why had he just tried to attack Carly? He wanted to protect her, not hurt her. He was not even angry at her. “Carly, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You haven’t. Hurt me, I mean.” Carly stared at him and reached behind her for the power button on the computer. Her arm felt bruised but she did not lift her shirt sleeve to look. “I’m okay,” she assured him.

  Robyn stirred in the corner, but only to change position and snuggle into the wall, then she was asleep again.

  “Shouldn’t we wake her up?” asked Carly, not knowing how Robyn could be sleeping better and longer than she had. There was so much to do before tomorrow, how could anyone sleep through it? But there she was, sleeping like a baby.

  “She’ll wake when she’s ready.” Mika held his injured hand in his good one and shook his head. He did not know why. “I need someone to hold me.” Carly looked up sharply, but he kept his eyes trained on his hands. “When she’s not holding my hand, I get lost to my memories. They take me away. I need her to touch me, so… I don’t want to be on my own.”

  Carly turned to the computer and pretended to concentrate on the psychedelic screen saver filling the monitor. “You’re not on your own.”

  “I need her. She’s the only one can save me.”

  “You need that connection, that’s for sure.” But maybe he did not need Robyn as much as he thought, just somebody of his own kind. “You get lost, she takes you away. Everyone needs that kind of help sometimes. We all need a mother.”

  “A mother,” he repeated – the word meant nothing. He shook his head clear of the fog that misted all the thoughts in his head, as if a spark had been snuffed out. “What are you doing?”

  “Just messing,” she lied. She had not touched it since turning it on. “I’m waiting for Robyn to wake up so she can decide what to do.”

  “Well, what do you think we need to be doing?”

  Carly bit her lip, sure that her idea would be the worst next move possible. Still, he had asked…

  “Come on, Carly. You’re a smart girl. Don’t give out on me now. You’ve got the brains and you know how to use them. I know you’ve thought about this and I know you have an idea.”

  “Well, I was thinking…”

  “Go on.”

  “Maybe it would be a good idea to find out where we can find these shaman and professor guys. Tell them what’s really going on.”

  “Have we got that information?” He couldn’t remember seeing it on any of the print outs.

  “Have you got an internet connection here?” She checked the back of the computer, found the cable and sat back down. “Cool. I’ll go online, then it’ll only take me a few minutes to hack into their personal files.”

  Robyn woke up and stood, holding the wall to get her balance. “I was sleepy. Now, I’m hungry.”

  Carly refused to look her way and leaned in to the computer. Mika sat there, not looking at anyone. The thought of blood suddenly repulsed him.

  “Uuunnh!” she moaned and rubbed her stomach, hungrily. Robyn told herself that she wasn’t as hungry as she thought. Human endurance was amazing, but they were not human. They were better. “Not hungry,” she whispered.

  “Did you have the nightmares?” Mika demanded.

  “I don’t think so.”

  That seemed both wrong and right to him. She should have nightmares, she had surely killed as many, if not more, people than him. “Really?” He had always known Robyn was something different.

  “No nightmares,” she confirmed. She didn’t convey any of the thoughts rushing through her mind but embraced them all the same. Robyn was not like Mika. The demon did not occupy her body, something to be beaten back, as Mika had come to believe. She had allowed the demon to grow and consume her, to take her over. In short, she had become the demon. “I remember them, every single one. I feel nothing.”

  She reached out and grabbed his hand, not asking why he held his other so stiffly – she could well imagine why. And suddenly, Mika was grounded; he knew who he was, what he had done, everything. But, when Robyn was with him, none of it mattered any more.

  Until she let go. Let him go.

  “I thought we were going to dance under the stars, my sweet?”

  Robyn pouted. “The stars cannot come out. They will be scolded for being disobedient.”

  “Disobedient? Why?”

  “The sun shouts to stay in power. It commands the night and does not allow it to come forth.” Robyn shook her head as if to shake herself free of something. She felt her hand be gripped by Mika but she did not pull away right away. It was a nice feeling – just being there with each other was comforting, and seemed to strengthen the resolve in her head. They had come this far together, had survived this far; why should they give in now to something they might beat? So maybe she was claimed sometimes by the stars, and maybe he was whisked away on a guilt-ridden journey down memory lane, but it was not forever. They would get through this.

  They had to.

  Robyn did not think she could bear lying with Mika in their bed, unable to feel him and touch him. Not for one more night could she be so close to him and know that he was so far away and untouchable. She loved him too much.

  “Power,” Mika muttered thoughtfully. “We have power. So much of it.”

  “We do.” Robyn caught onto his train of thought but refused to let it come to the front of her mind. Instead, she allowed the thought to stew in the back of her brain. “Power,” she said again, liking how the word sounded in her mouth.

  “This is not a normal conversation,” chimed in Carly. “Or, is it?” Maybe this blatant abnormality was what constituted a regular day for them. She did not know, and was not surprised to find that she didn’t care – just eager for a distraction.

  “What is normal?” asked Robyn.

  Carly supposed she was right – nothing was how it should be any more. Besides which, her definition of normal might be totally different from theirs. Probably was, actually, she did not dwell on it.

  Things were just heating up.

  It was mid-afternoon when everyone would otherwise have been getting ready to leave school or work. Nearly every building in the main streets of the city had been trashed and/or looted – only a few stood proud and intact.

  Children chased each other along roads, screaming and whooping. It would not be such a heart-wrenching sight if they had not been shouting real death threats and running with intent to harm or kill. No self-restraint. Adult, presumably the parents, were efficiently ignoring their cries as they pursued their own brutal displays. No longer were they forced into reluctant quiet by an unknown entity, or able to control themselves enough to stop themselves killing people. Innocent members of the public were losing their lives in unnatural ways at an alarming rate. And, where before it had helped people to regain a shred of dignity to have an outburst, it now only drove them further and further towards the edge – over the edge ?
?? and they wanted more. They wanted to draw blood, to hurt others in horrible ways, to feel that moment of rushing power in death and victory.

  People were turning into monsters. Demons. Spawn of the devil.

  The woman looked through the large glass panel into the deserted bottom floor of FDR Industries, one hand protectively covering her bag buckle.. This place had always been so busy, so buzzing with life. It was weird to see it standing empty. But it wasn’t empty. She could hear voices inside, echoing through the shell. She did not stop to listen, though her brain told her it might be important, her feet would not listen and she walked on.

  Of course, she had seen TV programmes about demons and witches and stuff, but they weren’t real. Just guys with make-up on and lots of computer graphics. But, even if they had been real, humans right now were much worse. There was no airbrush or face-paint to cover this terror. These were the faces of hungry, slavering beasts. Beasts set loose to wreak their havoc, cause their own damage. “Guess there’s a little bit of demon in everyone,” she muttered.

  She enjoyed watching everyone in such pain and torment. It was their own fault for being so damn arrogant when they had the chance to live that they were now seeing the end of each other. Something sparked in the back of her mind then fizzled out before she could grasp it. A sliver of something old. But no, it was just gone again. The woman also saw a handful of people standing on the sidelines, watching with, not sadness or pity exactly… more like disbelief.

  “Well, I’m not clearing up this mess,” she said. “It’s not my job.”

  She didn’t know.

  Carly laughed lightly as she skipped down the bare staircase, her hair dripping and her skin still slightly damp from the shower she had just darted under. She tried to tell herself that Robyn and Mika were just being kind and letting up on her civil rights, but could not shake the probable notion that she was going to be used in someway to go out. It might raise suspicion to go out in dirty clothes and hair, and still covered in old bloodstains. She thought about what conditions were like outside and decided that maybe she wouldn’t have looked all that out of place.