Authors: Amy Cross
Chapter Two
"What a wasteland," Gabriel Fenroc says, standing at the cemetery gate and staring through the iron bars. "What a terrible tragedy. So much death and destruction. So much anger, so much pain. A perfect example of why this world needs to be ripped apart and replaced by something better. Something new."
The entire cemetery has been trashed. Gravestones have been ripped from the ground and smashed, while even some of the trees have been uprooted. The cottage has withstood some of the damage, although one end has collapsed and the other end, although still standing, looks conspicuously fragile. The blackened, burned bodies of Volks are spread all over the singed grass, and a curious, deathly kind of hush has descended upon the whole place. It looks like the end of the world, or at least a warm-up.
"This is going to be tricky," Fenroc continues, pushing the gate open. Reaching his hand across the threshold, he watches has the skin on his fingers begins to sizzle and burn. After a few seconds, unable to withstand the pain any longer, he steps back and admires his damaged flesh. The skin is already beginning to heal, but he's certain that there's no way he could withstand such pain while walking all the way over to the cottage. He pauses, before reaching into his pocket and taking out a small vial of water.
Nearby, a mouse sits on top of the wall, watching the scene.
"It was such a beautiful place once," he says, thinking back to the old days, when
he
was the gardener. He used to sleep during the day and do all his work at night, when no-once could see or interrupt him. Working by the light of the moon, he was still able to make the place look good. Not like his successors, who mostly focused on other aspects of the job and ignored the need to make the place beautiful.
"You're not welcome here," calls out a voice.
Looking past the gate, Fenroc sees a familiar figure hunched against the wall over by one of the wrecked graves.
"Martello," he says with a smile. It's been many years since he heard his former comrade's voice, although he's spotted him once or twice through the cemetery gates. "Or do you prefer to be called Sparky these days? I understand Ms. Marker has given you a new moniker. How are you doing, old friend? I must say, it seems you've let the place go a little, and you're looking a little peaky. Such a change from your usual self."
Slowly, Sparky tries to get to his feet, but his stone form quickly collapses once again. The battle with the Volks might be over, but he has suffered a terrible toll, and there are fractures running all through his body. He tries yet again to stand, but finally he has to give up. The damage is etched across his face, which has been partially chipped away on one side thanks to the Volks' attack. Whereas he previously looked noble and proud, he now resembles an old, damaged statue.
"You should rest," Fenroc continues. "You're getting on. You deserve a nap. Why not just sit back and let everyone else take the strain?" Glancing over at a dead, smoking Volk on the grass, he pauses for a moment. "I knew they'd be no match for you, but I have to be honest, I didn't realize they'd take quite so much of your strength. What's wrong, old chap? Are you losing your touch? There were days when I thought you could take on army after army, without even breaking a sweat. You were feared across so many worlds, and now look at you. Do you have any idea how many people would delight in knowing that you've fallen so far?"
"Is this really what you want?" Sparky asks, sounding hoarse and breathless. Stone dust pours from his body every time he speaks, and his limbs have begun to make a stiff grinding sound. "Do you think the Devil himself will barter with you once he's awake? Is that your plan? Are you going to saunter up to him, lay your cards on the table, and propose some kind of alliance?"
"Perhaps."
"You have nothing to offer him. He'll swat you away."
"You don't know what I have to offer," Fenroc says with a smile.
"I know you've got an over-inflated sense of your own importance. I know you think you deserve power and glory. It was these weaknesses that drove you from the cemetery in the first place."
Fenroc pauses. "Well, that's just your opinion," he says after a moment. "I know you must have a very lowly opinion of me, but I'm sure you understand that I haven't played all my cards just yet. Do you really think I'd wander into a meeting with the darkest creature in all of creation, and just
ask
for a favor? Come on, you know I'm not that stupid. I'm not naive."
"You don't have anything that he wants."
"Don't I? Face it. You've been trapped in the cemetery, and I've been trapped outside. Neither of us has had much of an opportunity to observe the other."
"You can't even step past that gate," Sparky replies, trying again to get to his feet, but still finding himself unable to summon the necessary strength. "You're powerless. What are you going to do? Call out to him from here?"
"Good point," Fenroc says. "Very good point. If only I had some way to deconsecrate the ground and allow myself to pass." He pauses, before looking down at the small vial of water in his hand. "Oh, perhaps I do. Wouldn't unholy water do the trick? This stuff spreads like the plague. Granted, I don't have much but it might just about be enough." Loosening the lid of the vial, he carefully allows a single drop to fall on the grass just inside the gate.
"It won't work," Sparky says firmly, even though his voice is betraying a hint of hesitation.
"It's already working."
"You won't get all the way to the cottage."
"No?" Smiling, Fenroc takes a step forward, and finally - after so many years in the wilderness - he finds himself once again standing in the cemetery. "I seem to be doing okay so far," he continues, splashing another drop of unholy water ahead of him before taking another step. "This stuff is remarkably potent, you know. I had to go to a great deal of trouble to get hold of it. I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say that the Devil himself will be mightily impressed by my dedication. As I'm sure you know, there's only one source of unholy water in the world, and it's not exactly easy to reach."
"You could never have made such a journey!"
"Then explain this," Fenroc says, dropping some more of the water onto the ground. "Are you so delusional, so determined to see the worst in me, that you can't even recognize when I achieve something remarkable?"
"That stuff won't last," Sparky replies, staring at the ground and watching as the unholy water sizzles in the grass and sinks deep into the soil.
"It doesn't need to last," Fenroc says. "It just needs to get me to the cottage and then down to the grave itself. After that, I suspect our mutual friend will take care of everything else. After all, for the Devil, it's the work of a mere moment to deconsecrate this place. He can do it with nothing more than the snap of his fingers. Hell, the mere fact that he's here at all should do the trick." Splashing another drop of unholy water on the ground, he takes another step toward the cottage. "It's so nice to be back. I've missed this place. Truly. I used to stand at the gate and long to come back inside, but of course I knew I had to wait for the right moment."
Again, Sparky tries and fails to get to his feet.
"It's strange, isn't it?" Fenroc continues. "I never thought I could feel nostalgic about a place that I hated with such passion. When I spent every day in here with you, I used to long for an escape. I hid my misery very well, of course, but eventually I realized that I could strike a bargain. Granted, I made a few wrong moves along the way, but all's well that ends well. This place almost destroyed me. Still, I suppose we had a few good times, didn't we?"
"You betrayed everything this cemetery stands for," Sparky snarls. "You took an oath to defend this place, and then you decided to reach out for glory instead. You surrendered to temptation, and now you're going to compound all your earlier errors by walking straight into the heart of darkness! You're the worst kind of fool, Fenroc. You never learn."
"So what? Was I supposed to just sit around like a good little boy, doing my duty and waiting to be replaced? I'd have ended up like you, Martello. A pathetic lump of stone, sitting around all day and eventually being renamed Sparky by some hormonal little bitch. Sorry, but that's not how I see my existence panning out. I've got better plans. Bigger plans. Besides, your adherence to destiny doesn't seem to have done you too many favors. As far as I can see, you've ended up in rather a poor state.""
"You had a job to do! You had a role!"
"Blind obedience."
"Honor!"
"Same thing. Either way, I chose my own path."
"You're making a mistake."
"I'm going to make you an offer," Fenroc continues. "It might seem like a cruel offer at first, but it's the best I can do. If you wish, I can kill you right now. You won't have to witness the Devil's resurrection or the end of the world or any of the misery that follows. I'll end your life. I'll spare you. We were friends once, and I feel I owe you this small mercy. Trust me, I won't be making the same offer to Faraday. But you, dear pal, still have a place in my heart. We're more alike than you care to admit. So how about it? Will you let me do this one final thing for you? Will you let me spare you the agony of a slow and painful death?"
"Go to hell," Sparky mutters.
Smiling, Fenroc turns and sprinkles a little more holy water on the ground before taking another step forward.
"Evil never triumphs," Sparky calls out to him. "You won't get what you want, Fenroc! You might as well just give up now and pray for your soul to be delivered!" He watches as Fenroc continues on his way, stopping every couple of meters to clear the path with another sprinkle of water from the vial. "You'll regret your actions!" Sparky shouts. "In your final moment, as the Devil ends your life, you'll realize what a terrible mistake you've made! It might only last a fraction of a second, but it'll be the last thing you ever feel!"
"It seems we have very different expectations," Fenroc replies. "I guess there's only one way to settle things. I'd better head on down there and finish the job."
"You'll die," Sparky sneers, "and you'll take the rest of the world with you."
"We'll see," Fenroc shouts back at him as he reaches the damaged cottage. "I'd love to stop and chat, but I'm afraid I've got an appointment. I believe there's a hatch I need to uncover." With that, he pushes the door open, sprinkles some more unholy water across the floor, and enters the cottage, pushing the door shut behind himself as he goes.
Chapter Three
"I hear something," Anna says, staring up at the roof of the cavern. "There's someone in the cottage."
"You're imagining things," Faraday says dismissively, still staring down into the pit. "Don't allow your mind to get distracted."
"I'm not," Anna continues. "I swear to God, I heard something up there. There's someone moving about in the cottage. Listen! Can't you hear it?"
"Maybe it's Sparky?" Sam suggests.
"Or one of those other things," Anna replies darkly. "Maybe Sparky didn't make it and now we're trapped between the Devil and a bunch of monsters?"
"We'll just have to wait and see," Faraday replies. "If it's him, I'm sure he'd have opened the hatch by now. Otherwise..." His voice trails off as he continues to stare down into the pit. It's clear that he's lost in thought, still trying to come up with a solution, but so far it appears that he's coming up short. "If only I had my books," he mutters. "Everything's recorded in the books."
"Can't you think of something
without
the books?" Sam asks, a little irritated by his approach.
"The books explain some of the events that happened at the beginning of the garden," he replies. "Without being able to refer to them directly, so much of this is guesswork."
"What if he's dead?" Anna asks, her voice tinged with a sense of panic as she continues to look up at the ceiling. "What if you're wrong and Sparky
couldn't
handle those creatures? Maybe he lost? Maybe they're swarming all over the place and they're coming down here for us next?" Looking over at the steps that lead up to the hatch, she paused for a moment. "What if we're already doomed? What if we're trapped?"
"Is there any other way out of here?" Sam asks.
"You need to maintain your faith," Faraday says darkly.
"In what?" Anna shouts. "In you? You're just sitting there, acting as if maybe you can come up with some kind of plan, but it's like you're hoping for someone else to come and sort things out. Do you seriously have any idea how we're going to get out of this?" Stepping over to the edge of the pit, she looks down into the darkness. "So far," she continues, "I haven't seen you do a single damn thing. Not one thing that might actually help. Anyone can sit and look thoughtful, but unless you've got some concrete ideas, you need to..." Her voice trails off.
"Need to what?" Sam asks.
"Someone needs to do something!" she replies. "Someone needs to come up with a plan that's actually going to work!"
"Go on then," Faraday replies, having clearly lost patience with her. "Tell us what we should do. I've spent years trying to come up with a solution to this problem, but obviously you think you can do better, so let's hear it!"
"I don't know!" Anna yells. "I didn't ask to come back to life! I didn't ask for any of this to happen! Look at me! I'm literally rotting!" Pulling another maggot from her arm, she stares in disgust at the wriggling little creature. "I didn't ask to die, either."
"Maybe we should go down there," Sam says quietly.
"There are maggots in my body!" Anna continues. "I can feel them wriggling around! Do you have any idea what that's like? For every maggot I pull out from my skin, I can feel ten more deep inside, and they're getting bigger! What happens next? Are they gonna turn into flies? Am I gonna just fall apart?" She stares at her hands. "Am I gonna stay like this forever, or what? I don't even know if I
want
to be some kind of zombie. Maybe it'd be better to just stay dead. I mean, at least it wasn't painful. It was just nothing. A dark, warm void. I wasn't even aware of what had happened."
"If we can find a rope," Sam continues, staring at the edge of the pit, "we can go down and find out what's really happening."
"I can feel one in my head right now," Anna says, crossing her eyes a little. "It's right behind my forehead. It kind of tickles. It's like it's deep inside my thoughts." She pauses. "I can feel it move behind my nose now, heading down to the roof of my mouth and..." Pausing, she reaches a hand between her teeth, struggles for a moment, and finally pulls out a juicy maggot. "This little bastard just crawled through my brain," she explains, with a look of shock on her face. "Do you think he
ate
anything along the way?"
"Something must be waking the Devil up," Sam adds. "Like his alarm clock is ringing, or someone's poking him. There's got to be a reason why he's waking up early. Instead of panicking like idiots, we need to work out what's causing the problem, stop it from happening, and then hope that we can persuade the Devil to go back to sleep. I mean, if he's been down there for thousands of years, he's still gonna feel kind of groggy. We have a chance."
"I'm worried my eyes are going to fall out," Anna whimpers. "What if a maggot chews through the optic nerve? Won't my eye, like, just plop out? And then I'll be blind. Dead and blind." She pauses for a moment. "Then again, maybe I'd be able to just put it back in. God, I wish there was a handbook for this kind of thing."
The three of them stand in silence for a moment.
"We wouldn't be able to get back up," Faraday says slowly, turning to Sam. "Even if we managed to get down there, it's a one-way ticket. It'd be suicide."
"But if we could save the world," Sam replies, "wouldn't that be kind of worth it?" She pauses for a moment. "There's someone I care about," she adds eventually. "Someone a long way away. He doesn't even know that I exist, and he never will, but I know that
he
exists and if I can stop this shit-storm from going down, then..." She pauses. "I'll do it. I'll go down into that pit, even if there's no way back up. Fuck it, I don't want the world to end. I never thought I'd say anything like this, but I'm willing to do it. I'm willing to risk my life."
"It's not that simple," Faraday says with a sigh. "Even if you get down there -"
"There's nothing to do up here!" Sam shouts, her voice filled with desperation. "There's literally nothing we can do except wait to die! Unless you've got a plan
right now
, we need to move on. If you don't want to come down there, that's fine. Tell me everything you know, and I'll do my best. Okay? I'm willing to do it. I'm willing to do give up my life if..." She pauses again, thinking of Henry on the steps of the church. "If it means that he gets to live a full life, a happy life, then I'll do anything. Even if he never knows. Even if he thinks I was just some deadbeat idiot. All that matters is that he gets to live." Sniffing back a few tears, she turns to Sam, and then back to Faraday. "There has to be something we can try. Even if it seems totally insane and impossible, there has to be one chance."
"I don't know..." Faraday says. "Unless you're planning to talk the Devil into staying asleep -"
"Fine," Sam says firmly.
"Fine?"
"I'll do it." She takes a deep breath. "If that's the only option, I'll go down and give it a try. And if it fails, I'll come up with something else. I swear to God, I won't let the Devil up. I don't know how, but I'll find a way to keep him from waking"
"But -"
"I'll find a way!" she says, raising her voice a little. "Trust me, I've got the motivation!"
"You can't just jump," Faraday replies. "The fall would kill you instantly. If you had a rope -"
"There are ropes in the cottage," Sam says firmly.
"You can't -"
"I don't have a choice," she continues. "If I need a rope, then I have to go and get a rope. If the only place to get a rope is in the cottage, then I have to go up there. I don't know how things are going with Sparky, but it doesn't seem to me that anyone here has got a better idea."
"You know this means certain death, don't you?" Faraday asks.
"Seems like it's certain death whichever way I look," Sam replies. "At least this way, I'll be keeping busy."
"You're seriously gonna go down into that pit?" Anna asks. "Right down there, where the Devil's waking up?"
Sam nods.
"Do you..." She pauses. "Do you want help?"
"No," Sam says after a moment. "If you two come with me, we'll just sit around arguing all over again. Maybe it's better if I just go and see what I can do. I feel like maybe I'll come up with an idea once I'm down there."
Faraday stares at her for a moment. "You're very brave, Ms. Marker, but I must insist on coming down there with you. With your bravery and my admittedly limited knowledge, we might just about have a chance."
"Fine," Sam says, "but let's get on with it. I don't want to waste any more time."
"We'll need a rope," Faraday continues, looking over at the steps, "and I'm afraid there's only place we can look."