A Change in the Weather

Chapter 64: Pandemonium

10 July, 2008 – 9:15 am

Hillary barged through the heaving throng of villagers and back up the stairway, fighting against the flow of people who were now desperately trying to escape from the inn.

There was something unnerving about the way the villagers had started to behave. Their gaping mouths had begun to drool and froth whilst their eyes rolled about restlessly. Through the wailing and pandemonium, the demon had been able to use the fear and confusion to force its way into their minds.

And so the terror had spread out like ripples across a pool, in turn provoking more fear in those that were nearby. In only a few seconds it had taken advantage of the situation, as its consciousness ate its way through the crowd, discarding the remains of one person’s sanity in favour of another. All it had needed to begin was a mind that was weak, and now it seemed that it wasn’t going to stop until it had driven the entire village insane.

Hillary cursed himself, for he knew very well that the demon was sitting in some dark secluded place, no doubt close by, hidden away from the chaos that it was causing, grinning perversely and giggling to itself, relishing the terrible gift of madness it was bestowing on the chosen.

He finally pushed his way through the crowd just in time to see Sigbert and Tobias kicking down the door that led to the children’s room; the room where moments before he had said good night to them.

And then something occurred to him and he threw his hands in the air and waved frantically to get their attention.

‘No!’ he cried.

If it turned out that the demon was in the room with the children, then he dreaded to think what it might do if it were cornered. But the clamour of the people that surrounded him drowned his words out. As it was, he could only watch with dismay as Sigbert and Tobias crashed their way through the doorway, leaving a trail of broken and splintered wood in their wake.

‘Damn fools!’

To Hillary, everything was happening in slow motion now. Even the screams from the villagers around him had become slower and duller somehow. In many ways it felt as if he were caught up in a dream, where everything he tried to do just crept along, and he ended up nowhere.

Tobias staggered from the bedroom looking for Hillary, clearly something was wrong and he looked shocked.

‘They’re gone!’ shouted Sigbert, kicking the empty bed over in frustration.

Tobias nodded. ‘It’s true. The room is empty,’ he said, hollowly.

‘Gone?’ replied Hillary.

Tobias nodded.

‘Yes. There’s no sign of them. No forced door, no sign of a struggle. It’s as if they just vanished.’

Hillary felt the colour drain from his face.

The words were definitely not what he wanted to hear. In this state of mind he could feel the presence of the demon, there on the edge of reason, just behind his eyes, waiting on the threshold for the right moment to emerge. With one errant or misjudged thought it would be there in his head whispering sweet nothings to him and conjuring up abhorrent images.

The only thing he could do was to focus his concentration and try to block out the horrible thoughts, but it wasn’t easy, and a niggle of doubt - like a dark cloud hovering over him - told him that the will of the demon was far too powerful to be resisted.

With a frown, he found himself looking up, which was when it dawned on him that the demon might be in the roof space above, and he began to search the ceiling with his eyes, looking for a way up. He caught Raedwald’s eyes and pointed to the roof with his staff. Raedwald understood and gestured Hillary to the end of the corridor where there was a small loft hatch in the ceiling.

It seemed that Hilary’s fears had suddenly become real. He had suspected the demon’s involvement in the children’s disappearance, but didn’t want to acknowledge it. A coldness like ice water ran through his veins, and he became quite pale as thoughts started to play out in his mind.

He wondered what lay in wait in the roof above.

One thing was certain - this demon was going to die.

* * * *

Outside the clatter of horseshoes on cobbles shattered the silence of the night, as ten armoured riders on horseback took up positions on the far side of the high street, their long red cloaks half-concealing their axes and swords which they carried beneath.

Grualdir, Thane of Winding, was the first to dismount, and took a few moments to look warily around. He pressed an ear against the door of the inn and listened. Inside he could hear a commotion, which on any other night would have not been worth bothering about, but the sounds were different somehow, and he gestured to the door as he backed away.

‘Break it from its frame.’ he ordered.

In no time at all, six men at arms had tied ropes around the handles of the doors and secured them firmly to their saddles. After thirty seconds and a short clatter of sparks and iron on cobbles later, the doors of the Inn of the Waylaid Traveller had been wrenched unceremoniously from their frames and were being dragged through the mud, and down the high street.

The scene that greeted them was a mess of tangled chairs and tables and other assorted items of furniture that had been used to strengthen the barricade.

‘Get this cleared!’ he barked, and then pointed to the people. ‘You men, see to it that these people are escorted home. But be on your guard, the demon is clever and does not suffer fools gladly.’

One old frail villager, who was frothing and gnashing at the mouth, suddenly started babbling words and pointed ominously in Grualdir’s direction.

‘How dare you disturb my feasting!’ he dribbled. ‘Who do you think you are?’

Grualdir bellowed with laughter, but it only served to incense the old man even more, and he started spouting more words and obscenities at him.

‘I shall take your mind and give you back an empty husk! How does that sound to you human?’

He looked bemused at first at the man, but eventually realised that the words were not his own. The old man’s eyes had rolled up so that only the whites were showing and his voice took on a far away accent, almost as if he were possessed.

‘Really, demon?’ said Grualdir. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

The old man cackled with madness, spittle dribbling down his chin. His eyes seemed to be finding it difficult to focus.

‘I will not leaving until all of you foul creatures have been driven mad.’ he said. ‘My work is not finished. I must not leave. I cannot.’

Grualdir stared at the old man with furrowed brow.

‘You cannot? Then we are here to put an end to your terror, demon. We have endured this torment for far too long.’

‘My terror knows no end mortal.’

‘Your end will come sooner than your think.’

Grualdir pointed to the old man, and a couple of men at arms held him. Instantly the old man broke down in tears. His face had changed. Gone was his expression of hate, replaced by a look of tiredness and calmness.

‘Take him, and tie him up. See to it that no harm comes to him. Surround the inn, make sure nothing enters or leaves. And I mean nothing.’

* * * *

Sigbert eased open the loft hatch using the noise of the villagers below as cover, and peered into the dark of the attic. Next up was Raedwald who, with the help of Sigbert, pulled Hillary and Tobias up. Hillary knew they needed to be quick-witted and sharp with it, because the villagers down below were making less and less noise as more or them succumbed to the will of the demon.

At this rate there would be none left.

The attic was warm and not very pleasant at all; it stunk of damp and rot and rat urine, but - more importantly - Hillary had sensed an altogether more malodorous presence lurking there, crouching somewhere in the darkness, hiding. He couldn’t be certain if the demon knew they were there or not. The only thing he could do was hope that they had made it up into the roof space without being heard.

Sigbert and Raedwald gripped their swords tightly, ready for whatever surprise lay in store for them. Hillary held his staff out in front of him, but had dimmed its light to little more than a flicker in case it brought undue attention to them.

And then, something rather unexpected happened; Sigbert let loose a deep roar, and pounded his sword against his armour, goading the demon - wherever it was - to attack him.

‘Come and show yourself to me beast!’ he cried. ‘Let us embrace our fate together!’

Hillary was struck dumb at the foolhardiness of it all. For all their hard work, it seemed their cover was blown and the element of surprise lay in tatters.

And then the demon - wreathed in shadow and flickering black flame - attacked, throwing itself on Sigbert, pouncing like some demented animal. Its hooked claws slashed and gouged as it tried in desperation to get past them. As it did so, Hillary’s head was filled with the most terrible thoughts, and while he fought to control his concentration momentarily, he released the grip on his staff and it dropped to the floor where it flickered to life, filling the entire area with an explosion of bright blue light.

For a moment, their night vision was blinded, and the demon - who squealed in pain - scuttled further away to retreat into one of the dark corners of the roof.

Hillary grabbed his staff and scowled at Sigbert.

‘Damn it! Why the hell did you do that?’

Sigbert said nothing, but remained steadfast.

Raedwald approached Hillary.

‘His family were taken by the demon, old man.’ he whispered. ‘He made a vow to destroy the demon, even if he forfeits his life in the process.’

Hillary struck his staff against the ground where it crackled and flared more brilliantly than it had ever done before.

‘I see. Then I appologise.’ he said, acknowledging Sigbert. ‘But there can be no room for heroics here. Everyone’s life is in the balance and I for one do not wish to see another man dead.’

Sigbert nodded but remained silent. In a way he looked more determined than ever.

A rustling sound helped them to quickly refocus their attention on the matter at hand, because in front of them stood the demon. It towered over them, bent double, its darkness filling the space like a dark rippling cloak.

Tobias averted his gaze, for it was disturbing to look at and made him feel physically sick. The demon’s eyes were tiny gimlets, like hot coals that burnt bright and red, and its features, although black as soot, were nevertheless all too visible. Its lips, which were thin and cracked, sneered at the intruders, and its teeth - themselves stained yellow and jagged like the glass of a broken bottle - concealed a tongue, which was blood red and snake-like that flickered idly about with a rasp.

Hillary couldn’t see the children anywhere, and he could only hope that they were still alive somewhere taking advantage of the situation by hiding in the dark.

‘Where are the children?’ asked Hillary.

The demon looked at Hillary square in the eyes but didn’t leave his gaze for one moment as it spoke.

‘I ate them all. They were delicious.’ it said, giggling and licking its teeth with its bright red tongue.

Hillary looked at it in disgust. It was clear the demon was playing games with him.

Sigbert, incensed by the demon’s remarks, lunged at the demon with his sword, but it easily countered his attack by whipping its tail around. The blow caught him off guard and sent him sprawling to the ground, his sword clattering away into the darkness. As he stood up, the demon slashed at his chest with its claws, and he staggered backwards into a wooden beam, where he collapsed. His chainmail was ripped open, and blood seeped from the wound.

Hillary held his staff out, and closed in on the demon. As he neared, the light from the staff became stronger and stronger and more brilliant, until the beast could do nothing more than hold its arms over its eyes in an effort to protect them form the harsh light.

It began to spit and hiss as it became more and more uncomfortable.

Raedwald charged at it, leaping onto its back where he plunged his sword down deep into the space between its shoulder blades. A shot of hot black ichor spurted from the wound, and the demon roared and bucked about, throwing him onto the ground like some unwanted rider. The blade was still in place, and the demon tried to reach back to pull it out, but Hillary kept the staff flaring bright, and the demon was unable to turn around. It let lose a deep bellow as it kicked out with its legs and tail.

For a moment, Hillary lost his balance and staggered back as the demon’s barbed tail flailed about like a whip once more. The staff rolled onto the floor again and its light was suddenly extinguished, but the demon was wiser and grasped it and flung it far away.

As the staff bounced away into the darkness, the demon spun around, and pulled the sword from its back and threw it at Raedwald, who narrowly missed being impaled by hurling himself to the floor. As he lay there, the demon leapt over him, and burst through a side wall into the night and down onto the courtyard below.

‘Quick! We can’t let it escape!’ cried Hillary and ran for the trapdoor to the floors below.

* * * *

Outside, the demon had been cornered by the warriors, who’d managed to keep it pressed against one of the walls of the inn. They had paid the price for it though; nearby, the body of a warrior lay in a pool of blood on the ground, broken and torn like a unwanted doll.

Hillary burst his way out of the entrance to the inn, quickly followed by the others.

‘Where is it?’ he asked, frantically looking around.

‘There!’ replied Tobias, pointing to the crowd of men at arms.

Sigbert saw that the dead warrior was an old friend and was instantly overcome with grief. With a loud cry, he charged through the ranks of the warriors towards the demon once more, and - putting all his effort into this one action - crashed into it, sending it sprawling to the ground.

As he stood over it, the demon began to snap at his legs and arms with its sharp teeth. Blood ran down Sigbert’s face and chest, but in the moonlight, he resembled some insane beserker bent on revenge.

The demon sensed this, and - through an act of desperation - filled his mind with terrible images of his family, and Sigbert’s face changed suddenly, and he fell to his knees to the ground with tears and sobs, letting his sword clatter to the ground.

‘Stupid mortals!’ sneered the demon, looking at the warriors. ‘When will you learn your rightful place in this world? Your race is so weak and pathetic. Mark this well: there is a force coming and your kind will be wiped from the face of the land by her.’

Hillary frowned. He had no idea what the demon was talking about.

‘Your words are making no sense.’ he said.

The demon laughed once more.

‘Of-course they don’t mortal.’ he cooed. ‘Just as in your world, there is a change in the weather coming.’

As it continued to talk, unnoticed by the demon, Sigbert unsheathed his knife and attacked again; this time he caught it off-guard, and he became crazy, kicking and punching and stabbing at the thing that had plagued his family.

‘Die! Die! Die!’ he spat, in between floods of tears, mucus and blood.

Eventually the demon fell to the ground from the onslaught. But Sigbert kept flailing and stabbing, until everything had gone quiet, and he stopped only from exhaustion, collapsing on top of the demon’s body.

Hillary, who was taken aback at the ferocity of the attack, laid a hand on his shoulder and patted him.

‘Don’t worry old chap - I think you can stop now,’ he said, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. ‘I think it’s done for…’

Sigbert rolled off the demon, and lay there for a moment sobbing, as if a great weight had been lifted from him.

And then the demon began to flail about again, writhing about and giggling and laughing wildly, scything around with its hook-like claws in an effort to swat the meddlesome human who had become more than just a nuisance.

‘Away!’ cried Raedwald, who started running towards them, with his sword held with both hands over his head. ‘Get away!’

As they scattered, he performed a salmon leapt in the air and brought the sword down with a sickening sound on the demon’s neck.

The head was severed cleanly and it rolled away, coming to rest finally in the gutter, close to Hillary, where it continued to stare up at him with its terrible grin.

Then it blinked.

‘She will come and you will die.’ it said, finally.

And then the fire that had burned in its gimlet eyes died, and it started to rain…

Hillary shuddered and kicked the head away.

Posted in A Change In The Weather |