The Butcher and the Butterfly (32 page)

A cool breeze
swept passed the odd trio and the trees bent and groaned with its
power. Martin took in a deep breath. The ‘big men’ as the girl put
it would come across the body and seek out the killers. Martin had
to presume the men would come here and here is where the stand
would be. If the man he had just killed was as powerful as Ted
stated then the men following would want to take their revenge and
make a spectacle of the killer. Hanging was still allowed in the
outer realms and a good hanging is what the people would want. He
had seen it all before. They wouldn’t give a fuck that Martin was a
Marksman, for in the outer realms the ancient Oath Bearers carried
little weight.

The girl started
to mumble and shuffle her feet. Ted went to her but once again the
girl pushed him away and Ted almost lost his footing. She was
strong and a big. Massive, as large as any of the grand fighter’s
back home. She could have made a pretty penny fighting the in the
rings but out here in the wilds she was just a simple retard;
mocked and forever doomed.

‘We haves to go to
her.’ The girl whispered.

‘No we don’t. Not
yet.’ Was Martins simple retort. ‘She is frisky, girl. We don’t
have what she wants and I need to…’

Martin looked to
the girl and then to Ted. Chuckling to himself he realised that it
all made sense, such simple sense he was surprised he hadn’t seen
it before.

‘She wants me,
doesn’t she?’

The girl tried to
run toward the house and the Marksman reached out to grab her.
Dotty swung one of her giant arms and it knocked Martin back into
Ted and the two men fell to the ground.

They watched her
run past the old house and into the darkness of the shed. They both
scrambled to their feet and Martin had to restrain Ted from
hurtling after her.

‘Trust me, Ted,
you don’t want to go in there.’

‘But Dotty. I have
to keep her safe.’

Martin twisted Ted
around so that the two men were eye to eye. ‘She is safe, Ted. Safe
for now at least. Varula doesn’t want her. Not yet anyway. She
wants me and you. She wants men. She will use Dotty to get to us
and others and then if times get hard she will turn on your
daughter.’

Martin felt Ted
relax in his hands and could see a realisation hit him, the
realisation you get as a child when you know your parents are
telling the truth no matter how hard it seems.

‘What do you
suggest, Marksman?’

Martin refocused
on the old home standing there like some ancient monolith in the
moonlight.

‘We go in there
until I can figure out how I contact the one that can get us out of
this.’

‘Who would that
be?’

Martin knew what
he was about to say must sound totally insane, especially to Ted
based on their previous conversations, but Ted had to know sooner
rather than later.

‘The Angel of
Death.’

Ted laughed the
laugh of a madman. ‘Thought as much.’

20

The wood shed
adjoining Thatcham’s place was large, dusty and as dark as a deep
cave. It had been the scene of a killing, numerous rapes and now a
secret resting place for the slut Varula.

Hunkered down low,
sat crossed legged on the floor was young Dotty and bathed in an
ethereal purple glow which emanated from the ancient orb she
stroked its glass exterior and looked deep into its core.

‘What am I to do?’
There was some desperation there from Dotty.

it is up to you
little butterfly. You must takes me too them and keep me safe. Keep
me out of harm my little Butterfly.

‘I can do that.’
She wiped some snot from her nose, ‘But don't harm me Da. Just the
stranger, okay?’

Okay, Okay, little
Butterfly. Yer Dad is gonna be fine. The young Thatcham and the
bastard Marksman will be enough for now.

Dotty didn't know
who or what a Marksman was and didn't have enough up top to put two
and two together so she merely nodded along.

Rising slowly she
hooked the orb under her left arm and proceeded to step out into
the cool night air. Varula pulsed softly and slowly in Dotty's arms
and created a warmth around her like a comforting blanket on a cold
winters evening.

As Dotty left the
shed, Varula seemed to be pulsing a little stronger and the closer
they both got to the house the faster and harder the pulsing seemed
to get. Before walking up the front steps Dotty stopped and looked
blankly at the big house.

What is it my
little Butterfly?

‘I'm a bit
scared.’

Nothing to be
scared of. I'm here; I can protect us both as long as you do as I
say.

‘But I can't hurt
my Dad. If he asks me to do stuff I have to do it.’

We won't be
hurting him. I have found another way. Step into the shadows

Dotty did as she
was told and turned away from the steps and into the shadows of the
overhanging trees. She ducked down making sure to hold on tight to
the orb with her left hand.

Someone was
walking toward her but in the gloom she couldn't make out who.

If you want yer
dad to be safe do as you told. You got that Butterfly?

‘Yep.’ Dotty
replied softly.

Good. Now jump out
and grab that little twat by the throat.

21

Martin and Ted
stood in the darkened living room that old man Thatcham had once
frequented. It was lavishly decorated and full of golden, sparkly
trinkets Martin was more used to seeing this type of home in the
wealthier parts of his old homeland.

Ted felt along the
wall and flipped a switch. A dull, yellowish light filled the room
and Martin noted a look of deep concern on the farmers face. The
last few hours looked as though they were starting to take their
toll on the farmer. The house was calm; still, like the calm before
a summer storm. Martin brushed his hand through his matted
hair.

‘Do not fear for
your daughter. If what I think is happening is actually coming to
pass then she is safe all the while there are men around.’

Ted slumped down
in a nearby armchair. ‘I don’t know what the fuck you are going on
about half the time, Marksman, but you seem to know what you are
talking about. What next?’ Ted raised his arms into the air like a
cheap side show preacher among his insane followers and raised his
voice to a bellow, ‘Will ye be calling forth the great Angel of
Death?’

Martins face
contorted into an unfamiliar grin. ‘I fear the only way to bring
him here is too…’ Martin tailed off.

‘Oh,’ remarked
Ted, ‘More dead people. Thought as much.’

The hum of the
spark light engulfed the two men for a while. Neither moved though
they were both restless; they both sensed something was happening
outside. Dotty and the relic were up to something. Ted thought
briefly about old man Thatcham and the storm that would follow and
his mind’s eye could clearly see the noose being wrapped about his
neck and below him the three men heaving on the rope lifting Ted
from his feet and into the air where he would choke on his own
blood.

‘Do not let it
trouble you, Ted. The man died by my gun, you have nothing to
fear.’

Before Ted could
answer the front door burst open and the startled farmer burst
forth from his chair and negotiated a path somewhere behind the
poised Marksman.

23

Dotty had young
Simon by the throat; her massive hand holding the pink flesh like
you would the top of a bottle of wine. At any moment she could let
it pop and spray all and sundry with bloody red gore. She had
kicked the door in, the timber of the door not holding up to her
tree like legs. In her free hand she held Varula and both Martins
and Ted’s eyes were drawn to it.

Dotty’s eyes were
fierce; ringed red with hate and wide like the hunters moon. She
stumbled through the main door and into the door way of the living
room. When Dotty spoke the two men could hear two voices; one was
Dotty’s, the other was deeper, darker and it filled them with
dread.

‘You two boy’s
best be fucking still or I’ll rip this little fuckers head clean
off and watch as I make you fuck the hole!’

‘Dotty!?’ Ted
questioned, shocked at what he saw and heard.

Martin put a hand
upon Teds shoulder and whispered in his ear, ‘That’s not Dotty.
It’s Varula. I think she is hungry.’

‘Hungry for
what?’

‘Not you Daddy.’
‘Just him!’ Dotty pointed toward the Marksman. ‘I yearn for sweeter
meats.’

Martin reached
down toward the gun slung low at his side but Varula had that
covered off and she squeezed Simon’s throat tighter. Simons face
turned an interesting shade of blue, tears ran down from his eyes
and mixed with the snot from is nose. It looked like he was trying
to scream but the grip was too tight. Thankfully the boy knew not
to struggle but his eyes were screaming for freedom.

‘No guns,
Marksman, not unless you want to see this young colts head rolling
around the floor.’

‘What have you
done with my daughter?’

Dotty turned to
her father; her eyes still wide and Ted wondered if whatever it was
that controlled his daughter had even blinked since entering the
room.

‘I’m still here
Daddy. Don’t worry; I have mades a deal with her. She aint gonna
harm ya.’ For a moment, behind those wide eyes, Ted knew that his
daughter was still there.

And then she was
gone again. ‘That’s right, Daddy, you is safe as long as I gets
him.’ Once again its attention turned toward the Marksman.

Dotty moved
further into the room seemingly unhindered by the boy she was
dragging around. Her clothes were wet with sweat and the air was
growing hot and musty. The young girl spat out a wad of phlegm and
it hit the floor with a glorious splat.

‘I have been
hidden for too long, Marksman. Its time you and I danced and I
fulfil this fucking curse put upon me all those years ago. Eons
have passed, men have come and gone, trees have sprouted from seed
and I have seen them grow into huge towering beasts. I have
witnessed the rise and fall of empires. I have seen marvels of the
sciences and great wars with cities bathed in fire. In that time I
have consumed and I have starved, I have been satisfied and I have
been left wanting for so much more and now it’s time for me to stop
playing games and get on with what I do best.’

Dotty inched Simon
to the side making sure her grip was still tight and raised the
glowing ball so that it was head height with the young man. It
pulsed frantically and its white light filled the room. Ted edged
away making himself merely a shadow behind the Marksman whom
remained stock still.

Martin could feel
Varula trying to climb inside his mind. He felt hands moving up and
down his body; touching him, caressing him like a lover would on a
cold winter’s eve when all there is to do is to survive and to
fuck. Visions of women all with the same face filled his vision and
they all yearned for his pleasure. They needed him and seemingly he
needed them. He could be with them, let it all go and be free of
this wretched land and this meaningless life he was now
leading.

But his life
wasn’t meaningless. He hunted. He was also being hunted. A man in
black now entered his thoughts and it was this man that once again,
though unintentionally, saved Martins life. He heard that bastard’s
voice deep in the recesses of his mind. ‘Pull the trigger,
Marksman’ it was saying ‘Pull the trigger and end the poor man’s
life’.

Though he didn’t
want to; Martin knew it was the only option.

Martin took in a
deep breath, composed himself, rid his mind of the voice that was
still tearing at his skin, turned his head and whispered softly to
Ted, ‘I’m very sorry.’

Before Ted could
even act, before Ted could try and stop this man from killing his
daughter the Marksman had raised his gun; its death barrel pointed
at the three figures not ten paces away.

‘Fuck you.’ The
Marksman said and the room was filled with the ancient echo of
gunfire.

Under that echo
Ted was yelling his remonstrations but it was to no avail; a
Marksman doesn’t miss.

24

Dotty released her
grip on Simon’s throat and his lifeless body slumped to the floor.
Unlike his father he hadn’t pissed his pants. At least he had
that.

The orb fell from
Dotty’s other hand as she reeled back from the shock of the impact
and she lifted her hands to her ears as the noise from the gunshot
reverberated around the house. Dotty fell to the floor tears
falling from her closed eyes in realisation of what she had
caused.

Varula rolled
around the floor coming to rest by the armchair Ted had been sat at
not ten minutes past. She was covered in Simon’s blood. She then
voiced her concerns to the room.

‘You motherless
cunt! You miserable, useless cunt! I’m going to fucking kill all
you sons of whores and feast upon your worthless souls and when I
am done with them I shall take that stupid little cunts one too!’
The orb pulsed with white light but it was motionless.

Ted ran to his
daughter’s aid and he knelt beside her trying to control the sobs.
He could feel something trying to get into his head, a woman, no,
women. They were trying to take him. Trying to seduce him. They
wanted him and he wanted them. They were beautiful and they could
be his if he just stopped looking after this needy little bitch
beside him and went to them; went to her. But there was someone
else with him now. A soft hand held his shoulder and stopped him
from moving. He turned his mind’s eye to see who it was. It was
another woman. Familiar but a stranger too. It was the voice that
shook Ted’s thoughts.

‘You cannot have
this man, Varula. He is meant for another path. He is not meant for
you.’

‘Palaluka, what
the fucks are you doing to me? Let me have him. Please. I need him.
I have to have him.’