A Book of Dust and Breath

Chapter 4.2

The 1984 Plymouth Horizon nestled against the curb, engine off and windows up, despite the still, heavy desert heat. Max slid into back seat, between the baby boy sleeping in the car seat and the little girl with wild black hair.

The children bore an unmistakable resemblance to the man in the passenger seat. He lay slumped against the window, none of the rosy glow of life in his skin. Shadows of pooling blood darkened his face and hands. Each breath ended in a wet, ragged shudder. Only the whites of his eyes showed and a needle hung from his arm.

A woman clutched the heat-cracked steering wheel, her knuckles white, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Daddy can't stop, guys. He's gone too far. And Freddie is going to be so mad that we don't have his money."

The little girl leaned in toward Max, pulling her feet up under her bottom and resting her head on his shoulder.

He slipped an arm around the child, holding her close, sad that she understood his presence there and accepted it so calmly, but grateful he could offer some measure of comfort. All the while, anger against the wretched parents burned hot in his chest. It wasn't the first time he'd seen this kind of sickness of spirit. It wouldn't be the last, but dear God, he hated it more than anything in the world. He couldn't help questioning. Why do you give them life when they use it like this?

The woman still babbled through her tears. "... lonely. You guys don't even know. You're too little. You don't know what it is to be all alone right next to the one who is supposed to love you the most."

Max squeezed the child a little closer. She knew that kind of pain all too well. She understood it better than most adults.

Her mother's tears slowed to a stop. "Daddy says it feels so good, like you're not even in your body any more, and then you just sleep." She wiped her face with sleeve of her ratty t-shirt. "That's all it is," she went on, her voice growing calm and steady. "Just a long nap. We're all going to take a long nap and when we wake up everything will be better."

As if to mock her, two dark shadows spread across the pavement next to the car. They rose from the earth and formed themselves into grotesque approximations of human beings, twisted and misshapen. Their forms roiled toward the car like ink in water, greasy sulfurous evil bent on nothing more than causing as much pain to human souls as possible.

Their presence sent waves of nausea rolling through Max. Such evil was unnatural, an affront to the perfect order of creation. People should move on as they we meant to, not be dragged into Hell without judgement at the Throne. Adrenaline burned away the last of the alcohol in his blood. He held his arms wide in front of the children, waiting, helpless to take them until their mother finished what she'd started.

The woman pushed the plunger on the needle the rest of the way down. Her husband's overtaxed heart gave a final shudder that shook his entire body.

The black forms melted through the windshield, carrying the cloying stench of sulfur into the tiny, closed-in space. Come on. Finish it, woman! Max thought, his very essence longing with an aching need to get the True Selves of the children away to safety. Where were the watchers? The guardians?

The mom injected the baby next and he barely squeaked before slumping into a quiet heap of flesh. A single tear rolled down the little girl's check. She uttered no protest against her murder. Her true self crawled into Max's lap and clung to his neck.

Yellow eyes peered at Max over the shoulder of the man's body. "Step aside. We're hungry, reaper."

Max lifted the baby's spirit and held him tight. With a child in each arm he tried to cross, but a black hand reached for him, shackled him to earth. Despair and regret shot through his being. "My brother said we're hungry," the thing hissed at him.

The mother jabbed the needle into her own arm and the appearance of another fresh soul distracted the demon enough for Max to wrench himself and the two children away and out of the car. Behind him, the screaming began. The shrieking of human souls was a guilt-born terror unlike any other sound in the universe.

The black forms left the car and leapt toward him, reaching for the girl's leg. She cried out. Her righteous fear pierced Max's heart, a different thing entirely from the pathetic wails of her parents.

Max scrambled back, holding the little ones tight. "Stand down, Demon! You have no business with these children!"

Yellow slits in a black haze glared at him. The foul beasts weren't satisfied with the adults.

Seeing the unyielding hunger in the demon's eyes, Max turned away, using his body as a shield against the evil throwing itself toward them.

"These souls are given over to us." The thick, hissing voices spoke in unison. The filthy, stinking murk of sulfur surrounded them.

"Not these. Never the children!" he shouted back.

They threw themselves at him and sank into his flesh. The Hell they bore with them washed over him, pain and torment, shame, despair, and horror filling the essence of his being. He gritted his teeth against the assault and clung to the children. Fighting a reaper wasn't worth the effort when fresh souls awaited. They turned their attention back to the parents, latching on to their dazed, frightened forms. In a swirling, inky mass of smoke and form, they melted away. Neither of the adults made any effort to seek the safety of the children before they were dragged away from earth.

It was over.

The girl stared at Max with wide eyes, peaceful and sad. The infant gazed at him, heavenly bliss already radiating from his tiny soul.

"It's over now," Max said, smoothing her hair. "I'll show you where to go."

He stood on weak, trembling legs, the baby still clutched in his arms. The girl took his hand and followed him across the divide without fear.

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Not going to lie. This scene was one of the hardest I've ever written. I think the horror of it, for me, is that the demons aren't the worst monsters in the story. 

Good news, though, Max's adventure takes a turn for the better in the pages to come.

Thanks for reading!