9 Tales Told in the Dark 11 Read online

  9TALES TOLD IN THE DARK#11

  © Copyright 2016 Bride of Chaos/ All Rights Reserved to the Authors.

  First electronic edition 2016

  Edited by A.R. Jesse

  Cover by Turtle&Noise

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  9TALES TOLD IN THE DARK#11

  Table of Contents

  HELL COP by Kenneth O’Brien

  THIRST by Joseph Rubas

  THE FACE ON THE WALL by Jimmy Bernard

  CSS HUNLEY by Lonnie Bricker

  AN AUDIENCE OF SQUIRRELS by Sara Green

  A FINAL CALL TO OURSELVES by Bob McNeil

  THE CRY OF A CORPSE by Henry Vesterlund

  THE MAZE by Douglas Kolacki

  LONG TIME IN COMING by Shawn P. Madison

  .

  .

  .

  .

  TALES

  TOLD

  IN THE

  DARK

  #11

  HELL COP by Kenneth O’Brien

  ‘Frank McGarvey,’ I announced as I approached the cordon. I held up my identification card for scrutiny. ‘Hell Cop.’

  His name was Murmer and he stank of Sulphur and shit. He’d been one of the first to appear all those years ago. Now, he lay with his chest blown apart amongst the trash of a rain-soaked narrow back street - just another victim in a wet city night. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the curious faces of onlookers lean forward, stretching the tape barrier to its limits. Nobody wanted to be dead but it seemed that everybody wanted to see it. I wondered how these people would feel if the crowd were staring at one of their own lying amongst the garbage. There were a few cell phones held aloft – no doubt some were attempting to record the scene in order that they could patch it into their social media accounts in the hope of boosting their own popularity. They quickly stepped back, however, when confronted by one of our officers looking for witnesses. Like every other metropolis, this conurbation was full of individuals who never saw anything and didn’t give a damn unless it was to their own advantage. It was the closest thing we had to Hell.

  There was a part of me that was glad to see Murmer dead. He was a demon after all. I acknowledged to myself that it was wrong to feel that way and a tinge of shame crept into my thoughts. But I was only human and many ordinary people didn’t like this influx of unearthly strangers. We saw them appear in a changing world and wondered what it all meant. What about us? became the rallying cry at political meetings. How can they just come here and walk about as if they own the place? I was in a difficult position because my job was to uphold the law and it wasn’t supposed to matter what shape or color people were but, deep down, I knew that it did. Being a cop didn’t mean that I didn’t have any prejudices. Of course I had them; just like most of us honest enough to admit it did. But my job meant that I wasn’t supposed to let them cloud my judgement. That’s a big ask.

  Forensics were already at work. They punctuated the rainy black with the bright light from their flashguns as they took photos of the crime scene. Their white paper coveralls were waxed to protect them from rain damage but that didn’t stop the investigators looking like soggy, animated meringues as they searched the corpse and surrounding detritus for clues. A young uniformed police officer had been assigned to guard the body. I could tell by the uncertain look on his face that he was not long out of college.

  Jeff Conroy, my new partner, was himself a fairly new recruit to the Hell Cop Division but, according to his records, he came with years of experience in other law enforcement departments. He also noticed the officer’s inexperience. ‘It’s a helluva way to make a living,’ he said to the rookie, ‘but you’ll get used to it. We all do. We have to.’

  Conroy had already muscled one of the forensics guys aside and was examining the gaping hole in the demon’s chest. ‘Somebody took him out with a bazooka.’

  ‘Probably a grenade launcher,’ I corrected. ‘Bazookas are for taking out tanks.’

  Conroy laughed. ‘This guy is a tank! Look at the size of him!’

  ‘I’ve seen bigger. But where did the perp get a grenade launcher?’ I muttered more to myself than to Conroy.

  ‘Excuse me, sir?’

  I turned to find the rookie cop by my side. ‘What is it son?’ I asked, probably sounding more patronizing than I’d meant to be.

  ‘I was just wondering why anybody would kill one of…’ he pointed to the nine foot corpse with its red skin, horns and cloven feet, ‘those.’

  ‘That’s why we’re here. To find out.’

  ‘I thought those things were immortal. How can you kill one?’

  Conroy looked up from his investigations and gave me a wry smile. ‘He’s got you there, chief. Now you’re gonna have to give him the script.’

  I scowled. Jeff had been with me long enough that he knew how much I hated having to explain. We were supposed to be the specialist cops in this field but it just got so boring answering the same old questions. Everything becomes routine if it’s what you do every day.

  ‘They’re immortal all right,’ I began wearily, ‘but, from what they’ve told us about themselves, in our world, their bodies are subjected to the same physical laws as we are. Blow one away and you send its essence straight back to Hell for maybe a century or more while it regenerates into a new form. The crime is technically Discorporeality but it’s easier to just think of it as murder. We need to keep the peace even if it includes demons. That’s why the Hell Cop Division was formed – to try and ensure that the law was kept no matter who was involved. We have jurisdiction over Satan’s hordes and Humanity. Didn’t they teach you anything in college, son?’

  ‘My instructor said that when it comes to demons, just leave it to the Hell Cops.’

  ‘Good advice,’ I replied. ‘Take it.’

  I studied the wide-eyed young officer and could see that he was scared. No doubt, the whole world terrified him but he wasn’t alone. The changes we had witnessed brought fear to many of us. Ten years of these hellish creatures living among us had done nothing to dispel the suspicion and dread. It came with the territory.

  ‘What’s your name?’ I tried to sound friendlier than I felt.

  ‘Chalmers, sir.’

  ‘Well, officer Chalmers. What do you think our leaders should have done when the hordes of Hell appeared and offered to live peaceably among us? Should they have said no? Should they have started a war?’

  Chalmers looked at his shiny new shoes. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Neither do I. For good or ill, our society has decided to tolerate their presence and we have to uphold the peace between humans and demons.’

  ‘But they’re monsters,’ said the rookie.

  ‘A man who rapes and murders women is a monster. He’s more of a monster than any demon that lives peacefully in our towns and cities. If these creatures abide by our laws then we’re bound to protect them – at least until our leaders tell us otherwise. We don’t have to like it but we need to do our job. And, if one of them is taken out in our world,
then it’s a crime. Isn’t that right, officer?’

  The rookie gulped in some air. ‘I guess so.’

  ‘Good,’ I replied and pointed to the end of the alley. ‘Now why don’t you go stand over there and let us do our jobs?’

  Without another word, Chalmers made his way to the point I had indicated. I glanced at Conroy who merely shook his head wearily.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You forget what it was like when you first started out?’

  ‘No,’ I lied, ‘but the kid’s got to learn.’

  ‘Yeah, sure, the kid’s gotta learn,’ my partner replied as he looked away from me and began sifting through some debris.

  We sat in an all-night diner and I watched Conroy dip a sugar-iced doughnut into a cup of black coffee.

  ‘You should try it,’ he said as he noticed me study him with undisguised disdain.

  I watched the icing slip from the doughnut and plop into his cup. ‘You eat like one of them.’

  Conroy shrugged. ‘I like sweet things and so do they. Don’t suppose they’ve got many delicacies in Hell.’

  ‘You think that’s why they came here? For coffee and doughnuts?’

  ‘Maybe just to find a better life.’ Conroy stuffed the last of his meal into his mouth and I watched melted icing trickle down his chin.

  I snorted in disgust and glanced out of the window where I could see the truck arrive to take away the corpse.

  ‘Who would want to kill a demon?’ I muttered.

  ‘Just about everybody I’d think,’ Conroy replied as he stuffed another sodden doughnut into his mouth. ‘After all,’ he continued, ‘they’re demons.’

  ‘Okay. Let me rephrase that question: who would kill a demon and think they’d get away with it?’

  ‘That’s easy.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Of course, chief. Somebody who thinks they won’t go to Hell.’

  I watched the truck leave with its load and saw Officer Chalmers walk away, disappearing into the rain-sodden night. I’d definitely been too hard on the rookie.

  ‘You’ve got a point there, Jeff,’ I said as I returned my attention to the question of the perpetrator. ‘We’re looking for a religious nut with an RPG.’

  Conroy gave a hearty laugh. ‘Well that narrows it down a bit.’

  He was right to be sarcastic. The world was full of people fitting that description.

  It didn’t take long for our theory to be verified. Half an hour later, we got the call to say that one Reverend Blackwater, a known member of the God’s Children terrorist group, was on a rooftop carrying an army surplus grenade launcher. The organization to which he belonged adhered strictly to Bishop Rice’s words of violence in his book Armageddon Initiative.

  God’s Children had been an offshoot of the umbrella Union of Churches against Demonkind. The splinter group had been publicly expelled because of the extreme views of its members but many who studied the political climate suspected that this had been nothing more than a piece of camouflage and that there was still some kind of secret affiliation between the two. The Union had some pretty high-ranking members of society and the military on its subscription list. Many still openly sympathized with the views of God’s Children and perhaps one of those sympathizers was how Blackwater acquired a weapon strong enough to take out a demon. If all this were true, and UCAD had given the nod, then Blackwater might be under orders to fire the first shots in a new Holy War.

  As we made our way across the city, more information came via the radio. It wasn’t just any rooftop. It was one directly opposite Hell’s embassy.

  ‘You ever met one?’ Conroy asked.

  I swerved to avoid another motorist who seemed oblivious to the flashing lights on our patrol car. ‘A demon?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Once,’ I replied. ‘His name was Abaddon.’

  ‘The author of The Infernal Manifesto?’

  ‘The very same.’

  ‘You ever read it?’

  I gave Conroy a scornful look. ‘You know I haven’t.’

  ‘Everybody should get the chance to read it.’

  ‘Perhaps. But only the highest members of the government have laid eyes on that book. All I know is that, once Abaddon presented it to them, our leaders started a big propaganda campaign to get demons accepted into mainstream society.’

  ‘Some say it’s more important than the Bible.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I agreed, ‘but others think it’s nothing more than Satan’s Mein Kampf. Either way, it’s all guesswork on our part. Nobody except the best in society will ever get a chance to read it.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Conroy said as he lit a cigarette. ‘But is that because the demons don’t want us to see it or because our own government prefers to keep us in the dark?’

  I shrugged. ‘Maybe both. Who knows?’

  ‘Abaddon would know. What’s he like?’

  I thought about the question for a moment and felt my hands tighten on the steering wheel as I considered the words to describe him. Abaddon was well known in Hell’s hierarchy. He was right there next to Satan and many humans suspected him of being the driving force behind Revelation Day. He was the first to appear and present the peace proposals and it immediately became obvious to all who saw him that day that his physical presence only accentuated his sharp intellect and position in Hellish society. Words failed me and, finally, my shoulders slumped in defeat. ‘He was…big.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘Scary big. Bigger than Murmur - all horns teeth and talons. He could scare shit out of a stone.’

  ‘Did you talk to him?’

  ‘We exchanged a few words. It was at a function to mark the founding of the Hell Cop Division. It was before you joined up. When all the pleasantries were done with, I asked him where God was in all of this.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He laughed and said that we were so much like sheep that God didn’t need to do anything. Abaddon accused us of falling to our knees at the mere mention of The Almighty so I asked him instead why Satan had made peace with Mankind. He told me that The Boss - as he called him – was tired of the constant enmity and wanted to bring an end to the acrimony between Man and his own forces of Hell. Acrimony, he added, that the earthly religions had deliberately provoked. Abaddon also mentioned something else.’

  ‘What?’ asked Conroy.

  ‘He said that there were those in Hell ready to overthrow Satan for his overtures of reconciliation. They didn’t believe the truth –whatever that is. He also suspected that certain figures of prominence within Humanity were against the peace accord and agitated for further conflict.’

  Conroy stared at the windscreen and pursed his lips as he pondered the information. ‘It seems that, even in the Inferno, they have to deal with politics. Did you believe him?’

  ‘I think so. He seemed to have…integrity. Can we use that word for a lord of Hell?’

  Conroy shrugged. ‘Who knows? We haven’t really got a clue what goes on in The Pit, have we?’

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ I replied.

  ‘Are we talking about some kind of conspiracy to scupper the peace plan and has this demon killer got anything to do with it?’

  I turned the steering wheel and guided the car around a corner as I thought about the implications. ‘I think that’s exactly what we’re about to find out.’

  Just up ahead, I could see the flashing blue and red lights and knew that we’d arrived at our destination.

  We were given a briefing from the officer in charge. His name was Lieutenant Thorpe. The report was short and to the point. Blackwater was aiming his grenade launcher and threatening to blow the embassy back to Hell.

  ‘Why doesn’t he just do it?’ Conroy asked.

  ‘No point in making a statement if there’s nobody there to see it.’ I replied.

  Conroy nodded, understanding my words. ‘He wants publicity.’

  ‘Doesn’t everybody nowadays? Even Abaddon’s got a social
media page.’

  ‘This perp’s not getting any coverage,’ said the burly police lieutenant as he pointed to a horde of press and television crews beyond the temporary barriers at the far end of the street. ‘We’re keeping the cameras well back.’

  ‘You’re wasting your time.’ Conroy pointed to a drone hovering at the edge of the building.

  I watched the muscles of the lieutenant’s jaws bunch in anger as he looked up and saw the remote controlled vehicle complete with gimbal and camera. ‘Damn! I hate technology.’

  Conroy gave him a grin. ‘It’s a new age. Better get used to it.’

  ‘Have you evacuated the embassy?’ I asked.

  Thorpe shook his head. ‘They won’t leave.’

  ‘Who’s inside?’

  ‘Just minor demons. Administrators mostly.’

  ‘They say that’s the worst kind of torture.’ Conroy was leaning against a patrol car.

  I turned to Jeff and raised a questioning eyebrow.

  He lit a cigarette and blew his used smoke in my direction. ‘Administration. Torment for the real bad asses. An eternity in triplicate. Sends them round the twist.’

  I gave a small smile and coughed. ‘I see Satan has a sense of humor.’

  A police helicopter appeared out of the night and shone a spotlight on the rooftop. Blackwater fired a grenade at it but the projectile missed and dropped into the nearby harbor. The explosion sent a jet of water into the air but at least there were no casualties.

  ‘I’m going up to talk to him,’ I said to Thorpe.

  ‘There’s an access door you can get to from the internal stairwell. I’ve got men covering it but I’ll tell them you’re on your way.’

  ‘I’m coming too, chief.’ Conroy followed me as we made our way into the building and up to the top floor.

  The rain had stopped by the time we stepped out on to the roof. The helicopter illuminated the scene from a safe distance and we could see Reverend Blackwater holding his grenade launcher at the ready.