~Destroyer~
The room smelled of urine and loosed bowels. It was cold down here; even with the braziers full of glowing embers, I was shaking. Brother Thomas realized this and cuffed me on the back of my head.
“Be still!” he hissed near my face.
We stood in The Inquisitor's closet, as it was called by some. A long-abandoned castle above us, a labyrinth of deep, black tunnels below it. I pulled my cloak tighter. There were two windows in the large cell. These windows, it was explained to me, offered no direct sunlight. This was to further break the hope of the Questioned. Around me were several others of the order. Brother Malcolm and Brother Baylor were the two youngest, aside from me, yet they were old in my eyes. Six others were present as witnesses. I was the youngest, and this was the first of my duties as witness. And then there was Brother Obarth – The Inquisitor.
He was old; older than any of the others. His shoulders slumped with the weight of his age. And with his many sins, I dared think to myself. His white hair pulled back into a tight length, stretching his mottled skin over the jutting bones of his face. It made him look quite mad. He sat on a stool facing the west wall of the cell, his claw-like hands on his knees. He sat quite still, now and then tilting his head from side to side like some ancient carrion bird. He studied the latest subject being put to the Question. His administrations thus far had been met with silence, and it was perplexing him. It had already sickened me more than once, thus Brother Thomas's quick temper with me. In my infinite bad luck, I had been chosen to witness this particular subject. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.
“You are a strong one, are you not?” Brother Obarth whispered. “Strength gathered from your demon consort, no doubt,” he sneered. He rose from the stool and stood in front of the girl. “But your demons will not help you now.” He did something that I could not see. The girl shuddered and clenched her jaws, as I had already seen her do many times this evening. She kept her head down, fighting the pain. Yes, she was strong. And so beautiful. Obarth turned to the brazier, tapping each instrument as he circled the glowing coals. I shook my head, expecting another cuff from Brother Thomas.
How much more can she take, oh Lord? I prayed silently. How could one such as this – so young, so beautiful – deserve such an ordeal? This same prayer had been said several times already. This time I added: Please, Lord, let this be done with. Show your mercy.
The Inquisitor chose his device and now stood at the girl's side. The device glowed with heat, and Obarth stood until the girl raised her head. I shut my eyes. I heard her sharp intake of breath and the sizzle of flesh, but there was no scream. I dared to open my eyes and I saw the Inquisitor smelling her hair as she arched her back away from the pain. I felt my bile rising yet again. Before I could kneel to the floor, Obarth flung away the device. It bounced along the stone floor, setting fire to the hay where it came to rest. Brother Thomas shoved me toward it.
“Douse that.”
I ran to the blaze, scooping up the water bucket as I passed it. I dumped the water onto the area, making sure to pour a good bit onto the device as well. It hissed like an adder, and steamed like – my stomach churned once again. I started to kneel, but Thomas was glaring. I glanced toward the door, quickly losing any hope of leaving the cell. Two guards stood beside the entrance; huge and stinking of soured wine. I returned to my station.
“This can end, child.” Obarth was speaking calmly. “Upon the utterance of your guilt, you shall be released. All you need do is confess your sins to me – to those present,” he said, grandly gesturing around the cell. “A simple thing, yes?”
Once again he was in front of her, and I was once again shaking. I was not cold; I was angry and filled with rage. Bastard! I shouted silently. Away from her! As if she had heard me, she lifted her head ever so slowly and raised her eyes to mine! I forgot to breathe. Obarth stared at me, his cold eyes black and rheumy, and squinted. My insides turned to ice. He glanced back at the girl, then at me, and smiled. It was the most terrible thing I had seen thus far.
“Forward.” He gestured to me. Before I could respond, Brother Thomas shoved me along to face the Inquisitor. He studied me for a lifetime it seemed, before speaking. “Perhaps this is a sign,” he said. “A sign from God as to how this poor subject shall be brought to the light.” I felt myself retreating into a very small place, a horrible place. The Inquisitor once again made his slow walk around the glowing brazier. Ping. Ping. Ping; a long nail on a bony finger tapped a new device with each step that he took.
“Oh, dear God in heaven,” I whispered. I could not help myself. Gasps went around the room.
Obarth stopped his walk, his fingertip resting upon a clamping device. “Ah,” he sighed. “We have chosen.” He smiled at me as he removed the glowing tongs.
“Please – I beg you Inquisitor, let us end this. Surely she has suffered–”
Brother Obarth moved with unexpected quickness. He held the clamp near my face, the ends glowing and popping. “Suffered? Suffered? As our Lord suffered for us? As he bled and agonized as the whips fell upon him and nails were hammered into his flesh and bones? I think not!” He grabbed my hand and I cried out. He placed the handles of the device into my hand, holding it in place with his own, and pushed them toward the girl's bare stomach. I knew that I would be damned for this. This could not be God's will. It could not! I snatched away from his grip, still holding the device.
“No!” I screamed. “This cannot be righteous! It cannot!” As if waking from a dream, I realized that I was holding the torture device in a defensive posture toward the Inquisitor. Silence filled the cell. Obarth seethed hatred. I dropped the glowing steel. It rang loudly as it bounced on the cold stones. I covered my face with my hands - until I heard the laughter.
Her voice was as sweet and clear as water flowing over rocks. Everyone in the room actually took a few steps back, except for myself and the Inquisitor. Her head was raised, and she looked around the room until her eyes met Obarth's, and in her eyes - was venom.
“Demons?” she asked the Inquisitor, “What know you of demons?” Her voice was wine. Obarth was transfixed, as were we all. “Call to your god, priest,” she hissed, “and I shall call to mine.” There was death in her words, a coldness entered every man in the cell, like an adder crawling into a cot. Obarth sneered and reached toward the brazier, and the girl's breathing still increased. She inhaled a great gulp of air, and screamed.
The scream was one of such intensity that I covered my ears and closed my eyes tightly shut. It was not a scream of fear or pain or despair, no – it seemed a battle cry, a primal shout – a calling. Her breath exhausted, her head fell to her chest. No one moved. Again, I heard laughter. I turned to see Obarth was now the source. He stood with his skinny arms wrapped about himself as his laughter became more intense. The room was noticeably darker now. The few torches barely able to remove the shadows near the door. It had to be late. I was suddenly exhausted, beaten. I wanted to fall to the floor (at the girl's feet) and sleep. It was not to be.
“So,” Obarth began. “It seems your demons do not hear your calls, heretic. God is good.” He snatched the girl's hair violently and stared into her eyes. He spit into her face. Her beautiful face.
“Master,” I began. Obarth smashed his bony fist into my face. I saw stars, and I fell to the floor, blood dripping from my mouth. He turned his attention back to the girl.
“You have not yet known pain,” I heard him whisper. I also heard something else, a soft voice in my head. I held my hand to my face and I heard it again. Look at me, it said. I raised my eyes to her. Thank you, she said without speaking – and she smiled.
Obarth’s eyes widened in disbelief. He was enraged. He retrieved the dropped clamp and glared at me, and then at the girl. He paused, frowning. I could see his breath. He noticed this as well. The room had gone suddenly, bitterly, cold.
There was silence now, and everyone in the room seemed to be listening. The flame from the torches was the only sound. The two guards turned their attention to the cell door, a thick, heavy, steel-banded thing with a small slot and slider for a window. One of them leaned toward the door, listening. He glanced back at Obarth who motioned to the guard, instructing him to check the passageway beyond the door.
Stand beside me. Her voice once more in my head. I rose and feigned stumbling so as to be near to her. Every person in the room was now facing the door. And then we saw it – frost forming on the floor beneath the door, slowly creeping forward. The guard reached for the window slider and yanked the block back as the remaining guard flung his sword up to the small window, trying unsuccessfully to hold the point steady. Obarth stepped around the brazier, still holding the clamp.
“Do not move from my side,” she whispered to me. Her voice was music. “No matter what occurs, do not move.” Her eyes embraced me. I could not answer; I nodded like a dolt. The guard holding the sword nodded to the other, indicating that he should look out into the hall. The sword was lowered as the other guard cautiously peered through the slot, looking left and right as far as he could. He turned to Obarth.
“Nothing – nothing at…”
The window slot exploded inward and the guard’s head appeared to slam violently forward, as if struck. But he came back upright, straightaway, his eyes wide in horror. We watched in disbelief as he was yanked backwards, his head being ripped through the window slot. We heard his scream cut short and the snapping, tearing sound that followed. The body dropped to the floor, blood gushing from the horrible red hole where his head had been only a moment past. The remaining guard fled, screaming to the far corner of the cell. Two of the Brothers fell to the floor, spilling the contents of their stomachs. The remaining Brothers were retreating to the far corners as well. Obarth stood unmoving. The girl giggled; her laughter sounding like the tinkling of delicate glass. Obarth turned to look at her.
“Pray, priest.”
Something slammed into the door hard enough to crack one of the thick planks. It rattled the stone ceiling, so that dust and bits of stone dislodged and fell upon us.
“Mother of God,” I whispered.
Another impact upon the cell door, ripping a hinge free from the stone wall and causing the Brothers to cry out for protection. Some begged Obarth to do something, to say something to dispel the force on the other side of the door. Obarth stood motionless, eyes wide open and staring. Boom! Another strike, and the Brothers all cried out their pleas to God, and to Mary and to Joseph and to a dozen others. They wept openly. A moment of silence fell then, and the girl spoke to me again, boldly, in her full voice.
“Come nearer,” she said to me. I took a small step and leaned into her, seeing the awful damage that the Inquisitor had wrought upon her flesh. I could not help myself, I wept for her. “Shhhh,” she whispered. “Raise your face to me.” And I did so, seeing for the first time that her eyes were that of absinth; green and deep. She inhaled and blew her breath upon my face with lips red as a rose in full bloom. I was shocked by it. I felt a warmth coursing through my entire body, as if I had plunged into a hot bath. I shuddered and gasped... and the cell door was ripped from its hinges, splintering in part and sending the remains hurtling across the cell to crash into the far wall.
I broke from my reverie, staring at the doorway. There was a pressure in my ears, not unlike that when one goes too deep into a river. I could see through the large doorway into the open hall, but there was something not right. The doorway seemed odd, it was as if a sheet of glass was in front of it, but the glass was moving. I watched in horror and fascination as something huge entered the cell, something that did not take any true visible form. I could see odd shadows that were cast by it as it moved near to the torches, and flecks of light danced through where I knew it should be. My ears popped, and it was as if that was a signal to run.
The Brothers all moved at the same moment, crashing over each other in their attempt for the doorway. Brother Baylor and Brother Malcom were nearly there when their bodies exploded. The remains were flung against the ceiling with such force that they bounced from it to the far wall, flopping to the stone floor in a mass. Instantly, the room reeked of blood and waste. I could taste it in my mouth.
Screams followed. I watched as the form moved swiftly from man to man, reducing each to nothing but ruined flesh and torn clothing. A horrible thing came to pass then, more so than what I had already witnessed. The gore and blood had been flung onto the beast (for I saw it as such, now), and it made the thing visible to a degree. It was incredible. The remaining guard was still curled into a corner when the thing found him. I saw the shadow reach out with an arm that was as massive as an oak limb, but ended in a huge hand with talons like glass scythes. The guard was lifted and held for a moment, then crashed to the stone floor as one might strike an insect. The body erupted, spraying the walls with blood and spattering flesh. This also coated the front of the beast, so that when it turned to us, my bladder released.
It moved like a lion; head down low to the ground, making no sound as it approached Obarth. Obarth! He had not moved! He stood near the brazier, now holding the torture device outward toward the beast.
“You will leave this place, demon!” I could not believe this. Brother Obarth stood straight as a board and pointed at the thing before him! “God commands it! God wills it! You must obey!” Obarth's voice was like a bell; clear and strong. Surely, he would force the beast back to whatever abyss it sprang from. The shadow moved near him now, and I heard a rumbling; slow and deep, like that of thunder at distance. The great arm raised, tendons flexed and talons extended outward. For a moment Obarth seemed fascinated, until the blades slammed into the Inquisitor's body, impaling him like a pig. Blood spattered my face and clothes, and I cried out. The beast lifted Obarth and held him over the brazier. Obarth was finally able to utter a grunting, choking, gasp as he was released onto the burning coals and glowing instruments. My eyes were wide open even though I wanted to close them, to shut out the images surrounding me.
The beast turned to me. For a moment I considered my death, that it would be quick and merciful. But I focused on the movement in front of me and that hope was dashed. It came to me, moving with a grace not found on this world. Its giant body glistened with blood and gore. In spite of this I was fascinated by its design. The body was massive; long and rippled with muscle and strange bone structure. The limbs also were so perfectly made for – I became dizzy once again at the thought of what it was capable of, and closed my eyes.
“Shhhh…” I heard the girl say next to me. “Hush, now. He is mine. He is mine.”
Hers? My mind was blasted with the thought that this monster was somehow controlled by this beautiful, young girl. I opened my eyes, thinking that the creature would be mercifully gone from us. It was not. At first, I believed my vision was blurred, I then realized with horror that it was nearly touching me, its massive head only inches from my face. Its breath upon me! I felt numbing cold emanating from it. I screamed silently and shook with terror as the beast brushed my face with its snout. I prayed. There was a sudden whoosh of air against my face, and I realized that it had been smelling my scent, as a dog might investigate a morsel of meat. It turned its great bulk to the girl and repeated the action to her. The girl spoke to it soothingly, and the beast blew its breath upon her. I saw her suddenly jerk upright and gasp as if injured, but no, she smiled! My mind was in turmoil as it was, but what I witnessed next was quite simply miraculous.
The girl inhaled deeply of the monster’s breath, and I saw her terrible wounds begin to close and heal. The burns faded as if they never were and her color flushed to red. As this happened the beast stood near her, its voice rumbling with power enough to shake my chest. Within moments she was once more whole.
“Release the pins, please,” she said to me, eyes a deeper green now than they were before. I obeyed. I made to help her, thinking that she would be weak and unsteady. She stood arrow-straight, looking into my eyes. Once more the dizziness overtook me. She placed her hand upon my face and her touch instantly warmed me. She was quite naked, still, and I blushed, embarrassed by my weakness. Her smile remained. She turned to the creature and whispered something that I could not discern. The creature… purred! It rumbled like some gargantuan lion, and in a sparkling of shadow it was gone. My ears popped once more causing me to wince, and she was standing before me: bloody, beautiful, perfect.
I removed a cloak from the floor and held it out to her. She moved with the same grace as the beast. Stepping into the cloak, allowing me to wrap her small body in it, I dared to smell her hair. It should have reeked of sweat and blood, but I smelled only flowers and perhaps spice of some sort. She took my hand into hers and moved us toward the cell doorway, and something flashed through my mind. He is mine, she had said.
He is mine.
