SON OF STORY

To Hunt a Demon

2008-04-28T22:24:00.000-07:00

Introduction:

I'd first thought of this story when I was watching an episode of Angel. I won't spoil the story by telling you which one.

I didn't really like the way the story turned out, but I was too lazy to re write the whole idea; too much work goes into writing this stuff. Also, at least one person I showed the story to liked it, and her opinion is important to me, so maybe it's not all that bad.

To Hunt A Demon

I

“Rope demons,” he said shutting his eyes, hoping it would keep the images out. “Rope demons grew out of his head.

The priest frowned.

“I’m sorry” he sobbed. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

The priest clenched his jaw, but put a reassuring arm on his shoulder. It was required of him to forgive, something that did not come easily. Forgiveness he believed was a ridiculous concept, but the maker expected it of all his children. “The damage is done child. Now is not the time to repent, it is time to fix things.”

The boy’s sobbing abated, just a little.

“Tell me about the demon,” said the priest. “And try not to be so free with the tears this time.”

The boy winced, but continued his tale. “Rope demons, fine rope demons grew from his head.”

“You’ve whined about the rope demons already boy! What else can you tell me?”

“It was Zoth’s idea.” said the boy. “But I realized I’ve always wanted to do it myself. So we did, we summoned a lord of hell two cycles ago.”

“How in the maker’s name did you manage to summon a demon?”

“The library” replied the boy. “We found a tome in the library with the summoning spell.”

“I was not aware such tomes were available at the library.”

“They are if you know where to look for them.”

The priest detected a hint of pride in the boy’s words. It made him want to discipline the boy.

“The ingredients are easily available at the local stalls,” the boy continued.

“What did the demon look like?” the priest interrupted.

The boy shut his eyes again. “There was no flash of light, no smoke… nothing special. We had drawn the summoning circle on the ground. Once the spell was done, it just appeared in the circle – the demon.

The boy opened his eyes. “He was sleeping when he first appeared. We didn’t know what to do with a sleeping demon, so Zoth poked it with a stick. We summoned a sleeping demon and poked him.”

“What did it look like?” repeated the priest.

“It had three limbs,” the boy replied after a moments pause. “Two hind limbs on which it stood straight, and another limb on its upper left body. It also seemed to be having a second skin covering most of its body. Something that wasn’t a part of it body, like an armor.”

“Second skin?” muttered the priest puzzled.

“And rope demons,” said the boy once again.

For an instant, the priest felt an incredible urge to hurt the boy. He resisted it, and let the boy continue.

“Millions of them. Not just over its head, but around its mouth and neck too!”

“Millions?” asked the priest skeptically.

“Millions,” replied the boy absently. “But they seemed to be lifeless. They only moved when the wind blew at them. Otherwise, they just seemed to be dangling down.”

“What did it do when you poked him?” asked the priest.

“At first, nothing. It didn’t wake up. So Zoth poked it a few more times. He kept poking until the demon woke up. Then it just sat up and stared at us for a while. It looked… scared I think. But then…” his voice trailed off.

The priest waited.

“We didn’t even see it move!” said the boy finally. “It was a blur, and in an instant, it had pulled off the front of Zoth’s face. He… he was… still alive when I started running.”

II

They sat on opposite sides of the table, staring at each other. They had been sitting like this for a while now, neither willing to be the first to say anything.

“There is a demon on the lose,” said the priest finally in a measured tone.

“A demon?” asked the figure across the table, amused. “I thought demons and monsters were confined to the ravings of the settlement’s lunatic.”

The priest remained silent, unwilling to comment. When he realized the other would say nothing either, he gave in. “There are things that are bigger than our egos. Let’s not be petty and focus on what’s important.”

“Oh, you have no idea how big my ego really is.”

The priest scowled. “If we’re done with your childish games, can we get back to the matters at hand?”

“Of courser we can. But you’re suggesting we play another one of my childish games aren’t you? You want me to hunt a demon.”

The priest looked at him with distaste. “I apologize,” he said gripping the metal glass that lay before him, “for the way I have been treating you all this while.”

“You don’t sound genuine priest.”

“Would you like me to beg?”

“That would be nice, but you’re right, let’s not be petty. Tell me about this demon.”

III

“You’re the priest’s nephew?” asked the hunter.

The boy nodded.

They stood at the outskirts of the settlement.

“You’re the demon chaser?” asked the boy.

“Hunter. I’m a demon hunter. Do you not know the difference between chasing and hunting boy? Have they stopped teaching the languages these days?”

The boy ignored the hunter’s comment. “What now?” he asked instead.

“Now, we hunt.”

“Two men and a boy?” said a third voice from behind them – the priest’s.

The hunter turned to face the priest. “You have to get used to the idea that I’m not crazy. Fifteen of the settlement’s warriors already approach us,” he said pointing to the figures walking towards them. “We do not hunt alone.”

The priest felt somewhat relieved. “How do we kill this demon?” he asked.

"We can pray that it rains" replied the hunter sarcastically.

"Rain?" asked the priest.

"Our water kills them. Large amounts of it. That and fire." He turned to address the warriors that had stopped a little distance away, waiting. "It's much too fast for us, so we need to lure it to the dam in the forest. I've set up charges to bring down a part of the dam."

We're bringing down the dam?" asked the priest.

"Only a part of it” he replied. “This is a demon we're hunting. Don't expect to fight it with a child's water sack. There isn't enough water beyond the dam to flood the forest and the settlement, but it will be enough to finish off the demon."

IV

The hunter stood patiently at the foot of the tree, staring at the boy perched on one of its branches – his lookout. He waited for the boy to alert him of the approaching demon. Then it would be time to set off the charges. The water would do the rest.

Close by, the priest paced impatiently.

"They're coming!" shouted the boy abruptly.

The priest froze.

"Keep your voice down boy," hissed the hunter as he rushed to set off the charges with a fire-stick.

The boy stared mesmerized as the demon moved in a blur, chasing the warriors. He counted only nine of them now. This number was fast dwindling too. The demon paused every time it caught up with a warrior, killed him, and rushed to the next one. Some tried to fight back, but they were no match for its speed. They knew their only hope was the water that would come from the crumbling dam. If only they could reach it in time.

Once the charges were lit, the hunter returned to the tree and started climbing.

The priest had been staring at the hunter. It took him a while to realize why the hunter was climbing the tree. Wide eyed, he rushed to do he same.

"Cowards," said the hunter as he climbed up to the boy. "Look at them run!" The demon wasn’t far from them.

The last of the warriors snapped under the demon's might. Looking around for anyone else to kill, it spotted the boy and the hunter and started making its way towards them.

The boy looked down to see if his uncle had made it, but it was too late. The monster had already reached the tree and grasped the priest's robes.

There was an explosion and the dam burst apart. The water assaulted the demon, but not before he ripped the priest apart. As the water swept it away, the demon let out a terrifying howl.

They clung to the tree - the boy and the hunter - as the water rushed past them. It reached their waist and looked like it would rise higher; but it did not.

"He's dead," said the boy staring at the priest's body float away.

"Nothing we can do now," said the hunter coldly.

"Is it..." asked the boy looking for another body, "gone?"

The hunter pointed at another floating body being dragged away by the current - the demon's body. It was disfigured. Shreds of flesh still clung to its bones, but even those dissolved quickly.

It was a while before they could climb down the tree. The water still reached their knees.

"He had to die," said the hunter staring at the boy.

The boy looked up at him questioningly.

"Your uncle had to die." he said. "The settlement thinks I'm a lunatic, a madman talking about monsters and demons. That suits my purpose."

The boy wasn't sure what he was getting at.

"My methods of dealing with demons are questionable. People of the settlement wouldn't approve of my ways. As long as they continue believing I'm a harmless madman, they won't interfere with my work. Your uncle would have changed that. Priests have a way with the masses."

The boy’s eyes widened as he realized what was coming next.

"I can't have you haunting me boy. There are a lot of things I can deal with. A child's spirit is not one of them."

The boy whirled around, ready to run, but the hunter's broad palm had already grasped his throat. "You know why you must die. You have no reason to come back now."

The hunter pushed the boy's head into the water at his feet. The boy struggled, but was no match for the hunter. It was over quickly. Making sure the boy was dead, he let the body float away.

The warriors were dead.

The priest was dead.

The boy was dead.

The demon was dead.

His work was done.

V

He pushed open the door to the cellar. Stepping into the darkness, the hunter latched the door behind him.

"Met another one of your kind today" he said loudly in a strange tongue. "Unlike you, an adult." A dull light at the bottom of the stairs lit the way for him. He made his way towards it.

He came to a halt in front of a chair. A lamp hung above it. Tied to the chair was another, younger demon.

He moved close and whispered to it - "I will hunt down every one of you. But for now, son of man, tell me of this place you call home; this place you call Earth."

Love Hate and Desire

2007-12-27T17:12:00.000-08:00

Long long ago, in a land - the name of which is lost somewhere in time - lived a beautiful princess named Jasmine. Princess Jasmine was intelligent, kind, and loved by all her father's subjects.

Yet, at the age of sixteen, she was unmarried. So her father held a grand Swayamwar (a ceremony where people from many lands assembled in hopes of winning the princess' hand in marriage).

Many gifts were brought for the princess - rubies, diamonds, talking donkeys that caught glimpses of the future, chained fairies (for what good is a fairy tale if there not be any fairies in it), dreams bottled in exquisitely carved... bottles, severed dragon heads that breathed fire when poked right, flying carpets, boxes that let you peek at gods engaged in unholy acts, and hundreds of other wonderful gifts.

But the princess paid heed to none of it. She had eyes only for him - Prince Al Mussel. Six feet seven, broad shoulders, he walked with pride. Yet, there was an air of humility about him. His bronze skin was decorated in battle scars - earned leading his father's armies to numerous victories.

She knew in that moment that she would be married to no one but him. She walked up to him, holding his gaze, and placed the garland around his neck - announcing her decision to all.

The king, overjoyed with her decision, declared the wedding to be held a month from that day.

A lot of people left then, angered by the Princess' decision. One in particular was Count Soo Merrysome - Jasmine's childhood friend.

"I implore you," he said walking into her private chambers later. "Reconsider. I know your wants and needs more that anyone else. I can keep you happy and in time you will learn to love me."

"That is what you believe Soo." she said to him. "Besides, that alone will not persuade me to love you. I have made up my mind, I intend not to change it."

"Don't be unreasonable." he spat.

"We are friends Soo." she pleaded. "Let us part as friends. Let there be no hate between us."

But egos are not calmed by words alone.

He prayed to Desire; for a year he prayed, not eating, not sleeping and not dreaming, before she appeared. Desire - the Goddess that is pleased easily.

"Ask what you want little fool." she said. "And I will grant you your wish."

"I wish to be irresistible." he said. "No woman must deny me what I ask of her."

Humans are a selfish lot, and their desires often force the world into chaos.

But the Gods were not fools then, and Desire knew that the system, left to itself, would find balance again.

So she granted him his wish.

And the world was thrown into turmoil.

Wives, repulsed by their husband's touch ran to the Count's lands; mothers left their infants to fend for themselves; daughters and sisters abandoned their families.

And all the men cried for Count Soo's blood. He was surrounded by women though - their women; and the men could find no way to penetrate this army without hurting them.

Soo sat in his castle, Jasmine at his feet. He paid no attention to her; she was merely a symbolic victory for him now, for after tasting so many women, she alone no longer satisfied him.

In his own kingdom, Mussel put his newborn son to sleep and proceeded to the court mage's chambers for advice.

"Trap the demon Hate," he said to the prince. "For only Hate has the means to destroy Desire's schemes."

And so he did; with the spells and tools his mage provided, Mussel trapped Hate.

"Take my sword," the demon said to him grudgingly, "and slice the count into a million pieces. That is all the help I can offer."

The prince knew the demon could not lie, for the spells allowed him only to speak the truth. So he was left to devise a plan of his own.

The next night, Mussel sent a courtier dressed as a woman into the Count's lands.

The prince stood on the far mountain, watching the courtier, while a huge hawk perched besides him. It was the demon hate.

His plan had been deceptively simple. The young courtier would cause a diversion large enough to distract all the women, and he would fly into the Count's castle.

"I bear his child!" screamed the courtier. "He is mine and he will have all your heads, for he loves only me!"

"Shut yer hole you stupid wench!" a nun screamed in reply.

A pan came flying out of nowhere and hit him square in the head.

He screamed.

"Mongrel bitch!" screeched another woman. "If he loves anyone in this hell hole, it is me."

"Envious harlots!" spat a fourth woman.

And so it started, the crowd of warring women grew every minute, until every woman in the land was a part of that crowd.

They fought with words, with claws, and with their teeth; and they left the Count unprotected.

Prince Mussel jumped on to Hate's back. "Fly demon! Take me to the count."

The Hawk flew; breaking all magical barriers and shields the Count had erected, it flew to the heart of the castle, for no known magic exists that can keep Hate out for long.

"Fight me like a man," shouted Mussel jumping off the hawk when he spotted Soo. "Or die like the yellow bellied coward that you are."

And they dueled; a short duel, but a duel nonetheless. Hate's sword tore through everything the Count threw at him - daggers, axes, swords and shields; and finally, when the Count could fight no more, it tore through flesh and skin, chopping the Count into millions of little bits.

The women awoke now. Still in a daze, they started to make their way back to their lives.

Jasmine returned.

The enchantment had been lifted... but not quite.

The Prince had overlooked the fundamental rule of life - the freedom of any man, god or demon, cannot be bent without a price.

There was not much Hate could do to the Prince now, but he would take what he got.

"Take the Count's pieces and throw them across all lands." he advised the Prince, "Just in case."

The prince did as he was told, flying on Hate's back across several lands, spreading the Count's remains.

What Hate withheld from Prince Mussel was that his sword merely killed the body, not the soul. The enchantment still clung to the Count's soul.

But the body and the soul are greatly interconnected, and with the Counts body in pieces, the enchantment was greatly diminished. It still seduced the women; although not as effectively as it had done before.

Men everywhere, realizing that this could be used to their advantage, shaped these pieces into something that could be worn on the women's feet. The benefit of which was two-fold. Not only would the hideous scars on the women's feet be hidden from them (and in time fade away), the women would be easily distracted away from the failings of their men with these foot coverings.

And that is why, even today, women have an unreasonable love for those little pieces of Count Soo we now call Shoes!

Acknowledgements

I owe thanks to three people for this little piece. pOokpOok, the nomad and Serendipity. They made me realize that women share an unnatural relationship with their shoes (or shoes share an unnatural relationship with their women, or... whatever).

So, Thank You you three!

Also, I believe I owe thanks to Neil Gaiman; who is probably going to throw up if he realizes his stories inspire this kind of rubbish. But, I read Sandman and that's where I got part of this idea from. Specifically, the story about "why the weaver bird is brown".