Chapter 19
Though I was exhausted, sleep proved elusive. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw the faces of the rally audience sneering at me, their laughter echoing in my ears. The one time I did doze off, I started awake with a convulsive jerk, convinced I had been levitating above the bed. After an hour of struggling to fall asleep, I decided to get up. I eased out of bed, careful not to wake Hexe and Beanie, and threw on one of my welding jumpsuits. As long as I couldn't sleep, I might as well get a little work done, right?
I shuffled down the hall, past Lukas's room and the second-floor bathroom, and opened the door to my apartment, flicking on the overhead light. As I entered, I realized that the drapes on the window facing the street were still pulled back. Normally I'm against flashing the neighbors, but since I took up with Hexe, my room had become more studio than living space, although it still housed the majority of my personal belongings.
My drafting table was covered with preliminary sketches and small-scale models of my newest art project, which stood in mid-fabrication beside my workbench. When Boss Marz turned the Dying Gaul, the Thinker, and the Lovers into piles of junk, he didn't just destroy a bunch of magically animated sculptures; he effectively obliterated my life's work. Now I was back to square one, using the bits and pieces I'd scavenged from the salvage yard to build yet another fully articulated found-metal "action figure."
So far my newest creation was little more than a pair of metal legs with piston knees joined to a pair of hips made from the steering knuckles off an old Ford Bronco, with a partial spine composed of various gears. I would have to fabricate the rib cage and sternum from sheet metal, but the skull was going to be made from some spare parts I'd found. I told myself I might as well get a head start (pun intended).
I placed the pair of differential covers I was going to repurpose into a cranium on my workbench and then changed into my boots and leather welding jacket. At the last moment I decided against my full helmet in favor of a pair of protective goggles. I marked the cuts I would be making on the metal with a piece of soapstone, and then checked the gauges on my acetylene torch. Satisfied with the pressure readings, I put on my welding gloves and lifted the striker to the tip of the torch. A second later a small yellow flame leaped into being as the sparks ignited the gas.
As I adjusted the flame on my torch, I got the distinct feeling I was being watched. The back of my neck prickled as the hairs along the nape stood on end, and my arms covered themselves in gooseflesh. I also caught an overpowering scent, far stronger than that of the garlic-like odor of the acetylene gas. With a start, I realized it was brimstone. I turned around, to look out the window, fearful of what I might see, yet unable to look away.
Standing on the ledge on the other side of the glass was a humanoid creature that from the waist down had the legs and hooves of a goat. Large batlike wings grew out of its back, just below the shoulders. It sported curling ram's horns at the temples, and it had three eyes-the extra one located in the middle of its brow-with a piglike snout and the tusks of a boar, from which dripped long, ropy strands of drool.
Seeing my look of terror, the demon grinned and smashed the window as if it was made of spun sugar and balsa wood. It grabbed me, its filthy yellow talons shredding the reinforced leather of my welding jacket like so much tissue paper. I cried out as its apelike hands grabbed my left arm, snapping it like a twig. This seemed to please the demon, as it made a weird, grunting noise like Porky Pig having a giggle. My tormentor's amusement quickly turned to squeals of agony, however, as I shoved the acetylene torch I was holding in my right hand into its face, boiling its third eye like a poached egg.
The creature let go of me so it could clap its hands over the oozing ruin in the middle of its forehead. I moved as far away as the hose attached to the welding tanks would allow; since the acetylene torch was my only weapon, I wasn't about to let go of it. The pain from my broken arm was so intense the edges of my vision were starting to turn gray, but I could not allow myself the luxury of passing out. If I wanted to stay alive, I had to remain on my feet.
Having a third eye reduced to bubbling goo must not be traumatic, at least not for a demon, as this one seemed to shake it off pretty quickly. The creature advanced on me, hurling my half-finished sculpture aside as if it was made out of nothing more than coat hangers and baling wire.
The sight of all my hard work being turned back into scrap metal threw a switch inside me, and suddenly all the pain and fear fled, to be replaced by indignant fury. Terrorizing and trying to kill me was one thing-fucking up my art was something else entirely.
"Do you realize how long I've been working on that, you chuffer?! Do you know what I had to go through just to get those goddamn parts shipped to this part of town? That's it! You want to fuck with me, Porky? C'mon-what are you waiting for?" I shouted, making the universal "bring it" motion to the demon with the acetylene torch.
The creature hesitated for a second, surprised by my outburst, and then a nasty smile spread across its face and a malignant glee filled its remaining eyes as it contemplated the fun it would have defiling my fragile human body with its talons and tusks. With an excited squeal it spread its membranous wings and launched itself at me.
As the shadow of the demon fell across me, I did not flinch or look away, but instead tightened my grip on the cutting torch. Even in the face of certain, horrible death, I felt no fear, only a deep resolve peculiar to those who know they are doomed, no matter what. Even if I was armed with a plasma arc welder, I was no match for a hellspawn. My only consolation came from knowing that if this was how it was going to end, at least I'd be burning some bacon on the way out. Suddenly there was a flash of white light and a squeal like that of a herd of swine trapped in a slaughterhouse as the demon was hurled backward.
Hexe was standing in the doorway, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers, his right hand held aloft. His eyes glowed like molten gold, and his right palm burned with a white heat so intense I couldn't look at it, even with my welding goggles.
"Get thee hence, foul one!" he commanded, his voice echoing as if he were speaking from the bottom of a well. "Leave this place! You are not welcome here!"
The demon turned on him, growling in defiance. It raised its hand to shield its piggish eyes from the brilliant white light, but did not cower. As it moved toward him, I felt my fear return-but not for myself. The glow surrounding Hexe's right hand grew even brighter, and trignt white lendrils of smoke rose from the demon's body. It snarled but continued to advance as if walking into a strong headwind. Its skin grew red and blistered, while sweat poured down Hexe's face and his right arm began to tremble.
As I watched, the right side of the demon's face sloughed away, like the cheese on a pizza, revealing glistening tendons and gleaming bone, and yet it continued to press onward. There came a sudden, condensed flare of light, like the final, defiant flicker of a guttering candle, and Hexe's right arm dropped to his side. With a squeal of bloodthirsty victory, the hellspawn pounced on him, grabbing him by the throat.
I lunged forward to go to his aid, only to be pulled up short by the hoses tethering me to the acetylene/oxygen tanks. I shut off the valves to the cutting torch and grabbed a pair of sheet metal snips from the workbench.
"Leave him alone, asshole!" I screamed as I plunged the shears into the demon's neck. The creature shrieked in pain and let Hexe go. But as I tried to pull the snips free, I was struck by one of the demon's pinions and landed on my broken arm.
The agony was so excruciating I could not suck enough air into my lungs to scream, so all that came out was a groan. Although my life depended on getting back on my feet, every time I moved my left arm I came perilously close to blacking out. The only thing that kept me from doing so was the certainty that if I lost consciousness, I would be torn limb from limb.
There was a thunderous roar that rattled the very walls of the house as Scratch, in his true form, smashed into the demon. Hellspawn and hell-beast rolled about the room, smashing my workbench into kindling as they tore at one another. The demon screamed like a stuck pig as Scratch buried his sabrelike fangs in its left shoulder. With an angry shriek that sounded like a band saw chewing through concrete, the pig-demon jumped out the broken window and soared off into the pre-dawn sky.
I felt a hand touch my cheek, and I opened my eyes to see Hexe kneeling over me. He seemed pale and drawn, and had a ring of bruises around his throat, but was otherwise unharmed. Scratch stood by the window, staring after the escaping fiend. The familiar turned and gave his master a beseeching look.
"He's getting away, boss."
"Go get 'im, tiger," Hexe said.
With a roar of delight, Scratch spread his own drag-onlike wings and leaped out the window in pursuit of his enemy.
Now that the danger was over, I could feel myself start to slip into shock. My teeth began to chatter and suddenly everything seemed far away, as if I were looking down the wrong end of a telescope.
"Holy Bast! What happened in here?" Our housemate, Lukas, dressed in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, was standing in the doorway, staring in disbelief at the wreckage.
"Tate's been attacked," Hexe replied. "Call nine-one-one. Tell them we need an ambulance!"
As Lukas hurried off to call the authorities, I felt myself sinking down, as if something had hold of the back of my head and was trying to drag me through the floorboards, into endless night. I tightened my grip on Hexe's hand, fearful that should I fall into the void, I might never find my way back again.
"Don't worry, Tate," he whispered as the shadows began to expand. "I'll be with you every step of the way."
And then the darkness rose up and wrappedup div width= itself around me.