Paranormal Research Club Ch. 08

He began to walk around me, towards where Enyo, Maria, and Kaitlyn were standing. I stepped in front of him and he reacted with mild surprise, as though not expecting my action. Enyo faced Asmodaeus defiantly. Maria and Kaitlyn cowered, frozen in horror.

"I'm certain that what you are already doing is of the utmost importance, but are you really sure that you're doing all that you can for your world? To protect your family? Lots of irresponsible sex might be fun, but please don't try to pretend that it's heroic. All we need in order to resolve this entire situation quickly, effectively, and peacefully is for you to provide us with something to trade to Eris for the Apple. Just tell your daughter to come with me peacefully. She trusts you, but I'm certain that she has had her poor little head filled full of all manner of stories told by her insane mother. Tell your daughter to trust me. She will listen to you." He stopped and smiled, raising his eyebrows pleadingly as he steepled his fingers before himself.

Something didn't feel right, and it wasn't just that I didn't like the way that he was talking about Eris. Certainly she wasn't the most stable goddess, but I didn't like his dismissive statements regarding her sanity. I didn't trust Asmodaeus, and I remembered hearing about what the world had been like when the legions of Hell had controlled the Apple of Eris in the past. These days, Hercules wasn't around to go rescue the Apple from the infernal pits, and the world world would be in big trouble if demons got their hands on the Apple.

Asmodaeus looked at me pleadingly, encouraged by my lack of an immediate refusal. "We're only asking to borrow her for a few days. Now, don't worry. We will return her to her mother soon in exchange for the golden Apple, and once Eris no longer has the Apple your world will be safe from total obliteration by universal warfare. Everyone wins. All I need you to do is avoid doing anything stupid and helping me out for the good of your entire world." His voice sounded calm, but pleading and persuasive.

Where the hell was Acratophorus? Or Ishtar? I certainly hoped that Erin, Rachelle, and Cherise were praying for me. My heart was pounding in my chest. While Asmodaeus did not look particularly intimidating, there was something about him that terrified me. It was as though there were some sixth sense warning me of the demon's awesome, terrible, hidden power.

Asmodaeus apparently grew tired of waiting for me to respond, and so he stepped forward, effortlessly pushing me out of his way. I stumbled and landed on the dusty dirt floor, and my head bumped hard against a rotten wooden wall. I cursed as I staggered to my feet in time to be knocked back by the concussive blast of a deafening explosion. By the time I was back on my feet and able to see clearly through the dust, Maria and Kaitlyn were gone from sight.

The businessman or politician that had stood before me moments ago had disappeared, and in his place was a hideous, obese aberration so horrible that the memory of the sight would haunt me for the rest of my life. Asmodaeus had transformed into a blasphemous horror whose hideous, blob-like body seemed to be composed entirely of a writhing mass of slimy, eel-like tentacles covered with vile-looking hooks and wickedly barbed spines that pierced through his rubbery, mucus-smeared skin like the teeth of a saw. From a hundred sightless faces that terminated the tentacles, circular lamprey-like mouths lined with multiple rows of jagged shark-like teeth slithered and grasped blindly around them.

Wrapped in the filthy embrace of a dozen of the slimy tentacles that crushed and squeezed about her, Enyo seemed to be fighting for her very life. With wild, horrified eyes she raised her fist and brought it down hard as another massive blast shook the frail walls of the barn, and a half-dozen of the squirming tentacles were reduced to mutilated stumps. From the severed ends of the tentacles, a mass of slithering blood-red worms were dropping to the floor and crawling sightlessly in all directions. But Asmodaeus had many tentacles at his disposal, and soon Enyo was struggling helplessly against literally dozens of impossibly strong appendages that seized her from all directions. The beautiful young goddess cried out in pain and horror as the vile barbs ripped through her dress and cut deep into her tender flesh.

I heard the hideous beast taunting his captive. "Your mother will give us anything we ask of her when she hears your terrified and pain-filled screams echoing up from the bowels of Hell! Perhaps I will wait a few days to tell her that you're with me, until I have satisfied my lust and, in the process, torn and ruined your body so grotesquely that the ragged flesh of your shredded orifices is incapable of pleasuring me. When I am finished, the filthiest of our demons will enjoy taking turns ravaging whatever is left of your tattered and mutilated cunt day and night while your cry out for mercy. All the while, the infernal flames of Hell will burn your pretty skin but be unable to kill you no matter how much you might wish to die. Sometimes, it just doesn't pay to be a goddess that lives forever!"

His words sickened me, but not half as badly as his voice did. Human language was never intended to describe how sickeningly, impossibly horrible the sound of the demon's voice was. Human beings have no business knowing that such blasphemous, nauseating horror can exist in the form of mere sound. If the mass-graves of the most horrifying of genocides could open their mouths and speak, their voice would have resembled that of Asmodaeus. If a million bloated corpses were disemboweled at once, and that sound ripped from their rotting guts were given the power to speak words, then it would perhaps resemble what fell upon my ears at that moment. Such sounds as the demon's voice should not be allowed to exist in this world, and there are good reasons that they are usually confined to the darkest pits of Hell. I had previously only imagined that I knew what true horror was. Now, I truly knew that there were things in the universe that were too horrible for any human being to face, and I prayed to whatever benevolent deities might listen for the strength to survive this ordeal.

My daughter struggled bravely against the hideous beast, but was outmatched and overwhelmed. Asmodaeus was dragging her slowly and inexorably towards the gaping portal that led to his lair in Hell.

It was pure instinct and years of hard training, combined with a healthy dose of good fortune, that allowed me to save her. I had trained with a throwing knife for many years, as the scarred wooden targets in my yard can attest. Judging the distance to the beast happened naturally and automatically without any conscious thought being necessary. The trusty old knife that had been my faithful companion for so many years seemed to flash open almost of its own accord, spinning in my hand as I deftly caught it harmlessly by the blade. I felt the wet holy water that had trickled down the enchanted blade from the locking mechanism where it had been dripped.

My hand choked up close to the handle, to slow the rotation of the knife after it was thrown and to ensure that, at this particular range, the blade would be certain to strike point first. My arm snapped downward towards the beast in a powerful overhand throw.

Distracted by his squirming prey, Asmodaeus did not see the whistling blade until it was far too late for him to save himself. He moved his massive bulk impossibly fast for his size, but it was too little, too late. The razored edge of the enchanted, holy-water covered blade ripped a terrific gash through what might have passed for the monster's abdomen. A steaming pile of tangled entrails made a sloppy sound as they slipped wetly and through the wound, making a grisly pile upon the floor as the demon uttered a horrific shriek of agony and rage.

Enyo's eyes were wide with terror as she struggled from the slithering appendages that had grasped her, crawling desperately away from the wounded beast towards safety.

Asmodaeus growled, a hideous gurgling noise as he pulled his corpulent, mutilated bulk along the floor towards me, snarling as his hideous barbed tentacles grasped for my face. I uncorked the holy water again, throwing the entire bottle at him. In his wounded state, he could not move quickly enough to dodge it, and it hissed and sizzled against his flesh like acid, dripping into his empty abdominal cavity and dissolving him alive from the inside out. Evil white vapors rose from the blistering, corrupted flesh as the holy water ate deep into the demon's skin. Still, the beast moved towards me as I backed away, holding the blessed rosary in front of myself like a shield as I circled towards the pile of tools, on the workbench. As I snatched a rusted ball-peen hammer from the table, a tentacle lined with wicked fang-like barbs snatched me from my feet. I struck the appendage a powerful blow with the hammer, even as many others moved to join it. Asmodaeus' tentacles were crushing my chest, driving wickedly long thorn-like spines deep into my flesh. I fought ineffectually against them, but was pleased to see them blistering and sizzling where they contacted the holy water that I had poured upon myself. A deep ache flowed from my leg where the lamprey-like mouth of a tentacle was feasting upon the muscles of my calf. Perhaps soon, the rest of me would be similarly devoured. I snarled and struck the tentacles again with the hammer, determined not to let the beast hear me scream before I died.

With a primal battle cry, Skagematuck lunged from behind the vile creature, clutching a rawhide pouch. "Set this on fire!" he yelled at Enyo.

The dazed goddess gave him a confused look before she gestured towards the pouch, and it immediately exploded into a ball of vigorous flame. The shaman cursed as he momentarily dropped the burning pouch before catching it in mid-air. He hurriedly extinguished the fire, allowing a thick, dark, aromatic smoke to drift from the smoldering contents of rawhide pouch and fill the air.

The tentacles immediately recoiled from the smoke as Skagematuck advanced bravely towards the creature, the pouch of burning material in one hand, the distal end of his shattered spear in the other. His hawk-like eyes were brave, fierce, and relentless. The ancient shaman was chanting strange words in a low voice, his voice rhythmic and enchanting in its own right. The air in the barn was filled with a woody, natural scent that streamed from the leather pouch, and the scent of his aromatic smoke sent my mind back to happy memories of cooking outside while camping on a clear, beautiful sunny day.

Asmodaeus tried to slither towards the enchanted doorway from which he had entered, but he was badly wounded and moving slowly. Skagematuck struck like a rattlesnake, impaling the beast with the broken spear. The demon was going nowhere.

Asmodaeus uttered a despairing wail as Enyo advanced, raising her hands high over her head. Blue light flickered like ball-lightning between Enyo's outstretched fingers, and the look on the goddess' face spoke of fearful wrath and terrible vengeance.

"You were going to take me down to Hell against my will, rape me, mutilate me and torture me until my mother traded the Apple to get me back?" She uttered the words slowly and with great menace, her voice trembling with fear and rage. "My mother would never have given you the Apple to save me." The words were a cold accusation through clenched teeth.

Asmodaeus knew what was coming. He shrank back, cowering before the enraged goddess and begging for mercy as Enyo's hands slammed downward. A torrent of purifying blue fire streamed from Enyo's outstretched hands and fell upon the beast like judgment from heaven. The fire fell from Enyo's hands, streaming outward towards the beast as she sobbed from fear, pain, and exhaustion until the flames licked nothing but a bare spot on the floor. One of the Kings of Hell had been utterly destroyed, an act that had perhaps never happened before in the history of the universe. With an angry gesture of pure contempt, she shattered the portal through which the demon had entered with a massive blue fireball.

Drained of the rage that had supported and sustained her, Enyo collapsed sobbing onto the floor, still crying. Her shimmering blue robe had been shredded by the claws and teeth on Asomdaeus' tentacles, and the flesh beneath them bled from numerous deep lacerations. I began walking towards her, but my leg felt funny. I looked down at the ragged, blood-soaked meat that had recently been my left leg, and was amazed that I could stand at all. I was loosing a lot of blood, but I felt as though I had to get to Enyo.

"Lie down," said Skagematuck as he guided me towards Eisheth's rumpled and discarded robe. "Enyo will be fine. She's a goddess, and there should be plenty of spiritual energy around here for her to absorb after killing Asmodaeus."

"She needs me," I responded. "Even if she's fine physically."

"Yes, and she needs you alive. You are losing far too much blood very quickly. Lie down," the ancient shaman ordered.

"You saved my life, Skagematuck, and if it weren't for you, that demon would be raping my daughter in Hell right now," I said. "Thanks."

"You saved me once, too," the old shaman said, as though the words tasted bad in his mouth. This conversation was perhaps getting too emotional for the grumpy old man's taste. "Now relax. You're losing a lot of blood. I would put a tourniquet on your leg for you, but I am weakened from manifesting to destroy Asmodaeus."

I hated the idea of using a tourniquet on my leg, but Skagematuck was right. I was already feeling faint, and I would be going into shock soon if I didn't get the blood loss under control. It really was a miracle that I wasn't already unconscious.

I reached into my hip pocket to retrieve my handkerchief. Using my ruined pants for padding beneath the tourniquet, I folded and knotted the handkerchief about two inches above the worst of the injury, ignoring some smaller lacerations. I felt queasy as I saw the toothmarks that had scarred deeply into my tibia, exposing glistening white bone and even some deep red marrow. I suddenly understood why the injury hurt so badly, especially when I jarred it. The muscle around the injury looked like bloody rags made of hamburger meat, and blood was flowing freely like water running from a faucet. I still had the ball-peen hammer in my hand. I grimaced as I inserted the splintered old wooden handle under the handkerchief, and prepared to begin twisting when strong hands took me by the shoulders.

"That's not necessary, John. You did great, and revived me just in time to calm people down and prevent your country from launching the nuclear missiles that would have doomed the world," came Acratophorus' deep voice.

I turned to see that Acratophorus and Ishtar had appeared without my noting it. I was fortunate that they weren't demons; I would have been dead even before I had known to defend myself. A third figure was there as well, a tall, beautiful woman in gleaming bronze armor. If she was Athena then I was surprised at how accurately classical sculptors had depicted her.

The god of wine and revelry gently untied my handkerchief and looked at my mangled leg, before blowing soothingly on the injury. Power like static electricity seemed to crackle in the air as my leg was bathed by the kindly god's sacred breath of life. I watched in amazement as the bone re-formed, clean and gleaming white. Torn and shredded muscle painlessly knit itself together before my astonished eyes, and severed tendons, veins, and arteries were mended while a cool, refreshing feeling flowed through my entire body. Skin and hair replaced what Asmodaeus had destroyed. My pants were still reduced to blood-stained rags, but my leg was as good as it ever had been without even a new scar to show for my trouble.

"There's an incredible amount of spiritual energy here." Acratophorus said. "Athena is over there teaching Enyo how to heal herself using that energy as we speak. Your daughter is going to be a powerful goddess one day, but she still has an awful lot to learn. I only hope that she lives long enough to learn what she will need to know in order to survive. Word is already spreading that you, Skagematuck, and Enyo killed one of the seven great Kings of Hell. I'm glad that you saved Enyo from what they would have done to her, but I really wish that you hadn't killed Asmodaeus. That's sure to cause a great deal of trouble for us very soon, my young friend. And we already had far more than our share of trouble to handle. Not even the mighty Abrahamic God chose to kill such creatures, even when they were openly making war against the great throne of Heaven! Tread lightly, my young friend. I fear for you."

Acratophorus glanced at the ghostly human outline that stood nearby. "Skagematuck, you've more than repaid John for what he did to help you. Demons were already hunting you to punish you for escaping their control even before today. Now that you've helped to kill Asmodaeus, it is probably best if you go on to your afterlife immediately. Even the gods don't dare to do what you have just done. If I were you, I would go somewhere safe, and stay there forever."

"I am not going to my rest until the world is safe again. I will not enter the afterlife until I have earned an honorable seat among my ancestors," replied the shaman.

"You've already earned it," came Ishtar's voice from nearby. She looked concerned for the old man. "Go somewhere safe now, before the demons come for vengeance!"

"I am a great warrior, and my fathers were great warriors before me. But I will not enter the presence of my ancestors until I am a great hero as well. My tribe cannot hate me for failing to protect them from destruction if I have saved the whole world," Skagematuck retorted in a tone that did not invite further conversation.

"Your ancestors don't blame you for what happened, and your loved ones have been missing you for thousands of years. You have no idea how happy it would make your family if you simply went home to them," Acratophorus said gently. Skagematuck looked away, his eyes sad and distant. "They would certainly view you as a hero for what you have done today. By the way, how did you manage to repel a demon as powerful as Asmodaeus long enough to kill him?" the god asked conversationally. Perhaps he already knew and simply wanted to give Skagematuck a chance to talk about something more pleasant, but the question certainly sounded genuine.

Skagematuck smiled, and I was impressed at Acratophorus' skill at cheering up the old man. "Tobacco, sweet grass, cedar leaves, sage, and the dried and powdered heart and liver of a river catfish. I have done much praying over this mixture for many years, and it is very good for warding off evil spirits."

"Impressive," said Acratophorus. "It sounds like the gods haven't abandoned you after all if they blessed your incense with the power to repel a mighty demon like Asmodaeus. Welcome back to your status as a holy man! And the addition of the catfish liver and heart to your sacred incense was a nice touch. Most people wouldn't have thought of that."

"Then they need to read the Apocryphal book of Tobit," I quipped with a smile. I stood up, still feeling a bit faint. My restored leg was as good as new beneath the shredded and blood-soaked pants, and it easily supported my weight. Maybe it was my imagination or the power of adrenaline, but an ache in my knees that had been my constant companion for many years seemed to have disappeared.

I went looking for my knife near the blackened earth where the demon king had been killed.