Realm Wraith (15 page)

He withdrew his hand to let Rayne look at it. Despite being a week old, fresh blood flowed from the deep gash.

“I wonder why it hasn’t healed,” Rayne mused.

“Deterioration,” Darrigan answered. Gabriel flinched when he heard the demonic voice, his eyes full of fear.

“What do you mean?” Rayne asked.

“That is the curse that Realm Wraiths suffer until their death. All the damned suffer through it, but since you’re aware, you suffer more.”

“What—what curse?”

“It is the miasma of the Abyss,” Darrigan gestured, his cloak of flowing smoke whipping into the air around him. “It corrupts mortal souls, and slowly changes them. Some decay into walking bones with rotten flesh. Others mutate into deformed monstrosities. And some become disease-ridden, all covered in sores, living in constant pain. This world is a place of torment for all mortal beings, who are not in sync with its madness. Wounds don’t heal; they just get worse.” He addressed Gabriel. “You look to be just starting your affliction, so I’d guess you’ve been coming here about half a year?”

Gabriel nodded, his expression less than happy.

“You never mentioned this!” Rayne shouted.

“Not much can be done,” said Darrigan. “Perhaps, if you find this redemption you spoke of, you could free yourselves before it’s too late. But that is why redemption is difficult for beings like you. The longer you stay here, the more the Abyss drags you in, and the deeper you become part of its insanity.”

Gabriel ran his hand across his head, as a small chunk of hair came free into his hand. “So that explains this. And I suppose it’ll happen to you too, Mercer,” He looked him up and down. “Or maybe it’s already started. You seem very pale now.” He grabbed Rayne by the wrist. “And your skin is so cold. It wasn’t this bad when we met two months ago.”

Rayne wrenched his arm free, and glanced down at it. His skin had lost a lot of color. The cold he hadn’t even noticed, and his skin did not feel chilled to him, but everything around him had felt much warmer lately, warmer every time he came to this place.

“I did just come from a very cold place,” he murmured. “Maybe that—”

“Don’t kid yourself, you wouldn’t still be cold,” Gabriel countered.

Rayne turned to Darrigan. “How long do we have?”

“How long until what?”

“Until this gets to be too much. I mean, what happens here? Do we keep changing until the day we die? If we deteriorate too much, do we lose all sanity? Do we die in the real world if we stay here too long? How long does it usually take?”

“It varies from person to person. What happens to your soul here won’t change your lifespan. You could live to be an old man and still come here every night.” Darrigan chuckled. “I can’t say much for your mental state by then, but it depends how well you can deal with the decay. It’s only when you die, that is when you truly become a part of this place.” He glanced between the two of them. “I’d say within a year or two, that’s when the effects become drastic. After about a decade, you won’t appear human anymore.”

“So, that means—” Rayne rubbed his arm. “That means there might be other Realm Wraiths here we haven’t recognized as such, because they’ve been here so long, they seem like all the other lost souls.”

Gabriel started shaking. “No, no, no, no, this isn’t happening! I don’t deserve this! You! You have something to do with this, don’t you!” He stormed over to Darrigan. “You said you’re a reaper. That means you’re the one that brings souls here, aren’t you? Did you bring me here?! You’ve made a mistake, you hear?!” He swung his fist, but it passed through Darrigan like smoke.

“Do not trifle with me, mortal!” Darrigan’s white eyes flared with an unholy power that bent the air around him. He reached out with his blade and skewered the collar of Gabriel’s shirt, using it to lift him into the air. “If you are here, it is because you deserve to be. There is never any mistake!” He drew Gabriel closer to him, forcing him to eye level, and Gabriel screamed as the demon’s eyes met his own, a stark reminder that this creature he’d been shouting at was far beyond him.

Rayne watched this, shocked. He stepped forward and grabbed Darrigan’s arm, forcing it down and letting Gabriel slide off his blade.

“I think he’s learned his lesson,” he said, staring at Darrigan. The demon looked at him.

“You don’t fear me, human?”

“You talk big, but I’ve seen worse,” Rayne stated, looking him right in the eye. The demon’s white orbs were strange to gaze at; they held an intense power, but next to the eye of that hell beast still strong in Rayne’s memory, they were nothing in comparison.

Darrigan broke the gaze between them. “Very well, then. I like you, so I’ll play nicely.” He pointed his blade at Gabriel. “But you—I don’t like you. Watch what you say.”

Gabriel sat there on the bloody ground, fog up to his waist, shivering from the experience. His head twitched up and down in a very quick nod to show that he understood. He looked downright pitiful, just a decrepit mess desperate not to fall apart in the wake of his fear.

“I still need to find Apolleta,” Rayne remarked, glancing over the landscape. He didn’t think she would be in this same area, and he had no clue how he’d even begin to find her. He glanced back at Darrigan. “Do you think you could take me to her?”

Darrigan scoffed. “I’m not some sort of tracking animal! I only know you because I’ve been following you, and I only know him because he ran away from me like a frightened rabbit the moment we met. The Abyss is infinite. You won’t find her unless you know exactly where she is, or have some way of connecting with her soul to track her down.”

“I see.” Rayne walked forward a little, closer to a cluster of entrails-draped trees. He placed his hand on the tree bark, oblivious to the dripping bile coating it, lost deep in his thoughts. “Then, if I remembered her strongly enough, could that connect us? Could I find her that way?”

Before Darrigan could answer, a thick pudgy arm reached out from the tree and seized Rayne’s hand. He cried out, trying to pull away, but more arms clutched him, twisting his arm with enough force to dislocate it from the shoulder. Sharp teeth covered every finger, each tooth ripping through Rayne’s flesh and clothes.

With a flash, the sharp sound of steel slicing meat, Darrigan’s blades cut clean through the arms. They fell to the ground twitching, as did Rayne.

“I told you to be more discreet,” the demonic reaper scolded him. Before them the tree bubbled and swelled, pulling itself from the ground in a disgusting, jiggling mass of flesh no longer reminiscent of plant life, coated in a very thick slime. Blood dribbled from the gurgling mouths on its surface, which cracked open wide to stab the air with long, spear-like tongues.

“And now I’ve made it angry, isn’t that just
peachy
?” From Darrigan’s expression, Rayne knew if he had pupils or irises, the demon would be rolling his eyes about now. He stood up, but the reaper held out one bladed hand, telling him to stay put.

As Rayne watched, Darrigan’s form shattered, becoming a floating mass of black shadows and drifting ash clouds with two visible blades. Like a pollutant cloud it surrounded the gelatinous mass of flesh, and with movements far too swift for Rayne to comprehend, the blades slashed and hacked through the monster like butter. It fell apart in meaty chunks, which dissolved into viscous red fluid before seeping into the rotted ground. Only a ripped-apart pile of bloated, seeping organs remained of the beast, twitching in its last moments of existence before black rot spread through it, reducing it to decrepit dust. The cloud of shadows reformed into a solid shape, and Darrigan whipped his blades through the air, shaking off stray bits of blood and skin.

“What a mess,” he spat. “I’ve always hated this place. Everything sticks to you and the stench doesn’t fade for weeks.”

Gabriel had watched the entire affair with his mouth open. Darrigan noticed his shock and turned his leering face to him.

“Give me a reason, and I’ll see to it that you’re next,” he teased. Gabriel glared, but he couldn’t hide his trepidation.

“You saved me,” Rayne gasped, grasping at his limp arm as it hung his shoulder. “Thank you.”

The reaper seemed surprised by this. “Well, it’s nice to be appreciated.”

Rayne looked down at the remains of the monster that had been trying to destroy him only moments ago. He remembered the previous night, the creature he’d fought when he found Apolleta, and wondered if she was all right, or if more of those monsters had arrived to tear her apart.

Rayne’s eyes closed as he pondered this, trying to remember her. He brought up her face in his mind, recalling its every detail; the round jaw, the lines under her eyes, the low tones of her voice as she’d berated him. Her image became clearer, and it felt as if she was standing before him. He reached out his hand to her, and in that instant a numb sensation watched over his body. He heard what sounded like cries of surprise from his two companions, but they faded to nothing. That same feeling from before, of passing through many worlds in the space of an instant swept over him, a much more familiar sensation now.

He opened his eyes. This wasn’t the raging sea of fire from before, but uncomfortable warmth still lingered. The black, cracked earth burned his toes, scorched and ashen. Within rifts in the ground he could see molten rock pooling inside, and all around him, craters spewed red flame into the air, dispensing glowing orange embers to the sky. A terrible place that smelled of sulfur and coal, but not quite as terrible as before.

“You’re always in the warm places, aren’t you?” he said. He heard faint breathing behind him, then a small gasp of surprise.

“Oh thank God, you came back!” Apolleta exclaimed. “I thought you were gone for good! You just vanished into thin air like that!”

“I told you, we come back here every night when we fall asleep.” He looked her up and down. “You did wake up eventually, didn’t you?”

Apolleta shook her head. “I’ve been here ever since you left. It felt like forever. I wandered around that ledge, trying to avoid all those flames, scared outta my wits that another one of those mechanical lizard things would show up outta nowhere. And then I just started running. I wanted to get away from there. And then I was here. It’s not as bad as that other place, but there’s still so much fire!”

Rayne didn’t know what to think about that. This woman didn’t seem dead to him, but it had been an entire day since they’d last met. He wondered if Darrigan could tell him more, but he realized he was here alone. Gabriel and Darrigan had been left behind.

“Are you looking for something?” Apolleta had noticed him glancing around for his former companions.

“I was with some others,” he said. “I must have lost them.”

“That’s right, you mentioned there were others.” Her eyes went wide. “Jesus, what happened to your arm!?”

Rayne glanced down at the limb hanging by his side.

“Bleeding monster attacked me,” he said. “I think it’s dislocated; it doesn’t hurt that badly, but it’s a bit awkward.”

She reached out. “My nephew threw his arm outta whack once. Grit your teeth, this is gonna be a bitch.”

Rayne cried out in sudden pain as she popped the arm back into the socket.

“Your skin is freezing,” she remarked as she drew her hands away. “And are those teeth marks? What the hell you been doing?”

“More monsters. Listen, Apolleta, I’ve found out some things about this place. I think you need to know.”

He sat down on one of the few rocks not covered in molten lava and beckoned for her to join him. She listened intently as Rayne explained everything he’d learned that night. He told her about his own experiences, about Gabriel, and everything that Darrigan had told him, but was careful to frame his words to make the reaper sound a little less terrifying. She listened, but couldn’t hide her fear, and her face filled with more despair the longer he talked. He saw this and tried to put a hand on her shoulder.

“You just got here. You probably have the best chance of any of us to escape.”

She jerked away from him, still in a state of muted shock. “Sorry,” she said. “Your hand is like ice.”

“You think I’m happy about that? It’s not like I wanted to turn into a bleeding snowman!”

She watched the ground. “So we’re all only going to get worse. Unless we redeem ourselves somehow.”

“I believe so. If we can find out exactly why we were sent here— Maybe there’s some way to atone for it. If it works, and we can redeem ourselves, then we’ll be free of this place.”

“So what’d you do wrong?”

“I don’t know. I lost a lot of my memories in the accident so, if I did something truly horrible, I think I may have forgotten it. And what about you?”

Her mouth frowned, and she narrowed her eyes. “Man, I didn’t do anything wrong. There’s gotta be some mistake! That jackass that shot me is the one that deserves to be here!”

“Why did he shoot you?”

“Hell if I know, probably some junkie looking for cash.”

“But you knew his name. You called him Tyler.”

“What is this, a trial?”

“Well, I am a lawyer,” he joked.

He felt her smoldering glare directed at him. “I shoulda known; no wonder you’re in Hell.”