Rimsky-Korsakov (Part Three)

© 2013 David Jasmin-Green

“What's that noise?” Knocker said a couple of minutes later. They heard the sound of snapping twigs as something moved clumsily through the dense thicket of buddleia bushes at the bottom of old Mrs. Watkins's garden.

“I don't know,” Bumble replied, “but stay put whatever happens.” Something chuckled, and it wasn't far away.

“Little pigs, little pigs, let me in!” a raucous voice yelled. “'No no, we will not let you in,'” it continued in a higher pitched voice. “Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house down!”

“I can see it!” Knocker said, by which time the boys could all see the huge, gangling thing approaching them, smashing through the low panel fencing at the bottom of the garden as if it were matchwood. The creature was impossibly tall and thin, and its huge pumpkin head was supported on a neck no thicker than a man's arm. It was as red and bloody as the sky, and it didn't appear to have any skin.

“Little pigs, little pigs, let me in! I want to rip off your skin with my teeth and wear it, because I seem to have mislaid my own. I want to poke out your eyes, I want to run my fingers through your hot entrails. Maybe I'll marry the prettiest one of you and violently fuck my beautiful new bride until the dawn calls me home.....”

“What do we do?” Banjo whispered as the thing approached to within a few feet of the edge of the circle and began to walk around the perimeter on its three toed chicken feet. “Shit, it must be ten feet tall!”

“Just stay calm and keep still, everything will be OK,” Bumble said, and the monster threw back its big round head and laughed, revealing a line of long, jagged sharks teeth.

“Fuck, can you smell it?” Knocker said. “And look at its eyes.....”

The entity's eyes were black and slitty, they were wrapped half way around its bulbous head, and when it moved they reflected the dancing firelight. It smelled putrid, it smelled sickly sweet like the ginger cat that had climbed through the broken window of Banjo's shed the previous summer in search of somewhere quiet to die and swollen to the size of a beach ball before its maggoty carcass was discovered. Nigel's father had emptied the shed and scrubbed the interior with Jeyes fluid, but the stench of death and decay lingered for months.

“Wash us in the blood of Christ, heavenly Father,” Bumble said. “Deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory. Amen!”

“Which one shall I play with first?” the thing said, ignoring the boy's prayers and cackling in anticipation. “Now let me see..... Eeny meeny miney mo, catch a nigger by his toe, if he squeals, don't let him go, eeny meemy miney mo. Eeny meeny miney me, catch a white boy by his knee, if he squeals bust his fucking head without further ado, and suck his brains out, eeny meeny miney MOO!”

The thing continued to circle the trio of frightened boys, but it didn't move any closer. It turned away and looked into the darkness for a moment, turned back and let out a terrifying roar, its huge jaws opening almost a yard wide. This time it was Banjo who attempted to flee, and Knocker and Bumble had to wrestle him to the ground and hold him down until his panic diminished. “No!” Bumble said. “You have to stay here. We're safe, I know it. Don't ask me how I know, I just do.”

“Wasp!” the monster snapped. “Come here, I need you.” There was a low buzz, and the huge wasp appeared out of the gloom and hovered just outside the circle. “Get in there and cause some serious havoc. Sting the little fuckers! I need the vermin to flee in terror.”

“I cannot, master,” the wasp said. “Just like you I cannot enter the circle, to do so would mean certain death.”

“I don't care! You're expendable, you fool, there are thousands more where you came from. Do you want me to summon an entire swarm of your beloved brothers and sisters and condemn them all to death?”

“No, master, please, I'll do as you ask.” The wasp entered the circle, its entire body lighting up. Bumble curled into a ball, his worst fear had come to pass, but there was no need because even as Knocker swatted at the creature it burst into flames and vanished, leaving behind a cloud of dark, foul smelling smoke.

“You can't get us!” Banjo said. “You're wasting your time, so you might as well fuck off back to whatever slimy shit-hole you crawled out of.”

“I would, child, but I'm feeling a trifle peckish - and I have my eye on you, banjo boy. It's no use whingeing, you've brought all this crap on yourselves - it's your own fault for meddling with things beyond your comprehension. It's not as if I asked to enter your crummy world. I've been here before, many times, and apart from the tender flesh of children the Earth doesn't have a fat lot going for it as far as I can see. I was about to enjoy a delectable feast in the dark regions when you cretins called my name.

Look at those beautiful clouds, boys; they're brewing up a fine old storm, and who known what nasties will come a calling when the air is charged to bursting point with electromagnetic energy? I'm not the worst creature from beyond your dull little world, you know. It would be a sensible move to offer yourselves to me before the real horrors arrive and the lightning destroys your circle. I'll do a deal with you – step out of the circle in single file and I promise to finish you all off quickly. The various unpleasant alternatives don't bear thinking about.....”

“No frigging way,” Bumble said. “You're trying to trick us, but we're not as stupid as you think we are, you stinking fuck.”

There was a flash of lightning followed by a strident clap of thunder. The clouds lit up, and a huge pine tree nearby burst into flames. It began to rain, and the warm, fat droplets that fell on the three boys felt too thick to be water. “It's blood!” Knocker said. “It's raining blood!” From the illumination provided by the furiously burning tree the boys saw an assortment of dark figures walking or dragging themselves towards the circle.

“Come, my lovelies, come to daddy!” the demon cried. A pair of huge pale things with bat like wings swooped down, crying like babies, and the dark troops comprising the ground assault crept ever closer. “Come, my babies, come closer!” the demon cried, waving his impossibly long arms over his head.

“Take off your crucifix,” a voice whispered in Bumble's ear. “You know what to do, son. I said I'd always be here to help you if you were in trouble....” Bumble grabbed the silver crucifix that his mother had given him a few days before the cancer in her innards killed her. He yanked it off, snapping the chain, which dropped to the ground. From his pocket he pulled out his folding catapult, holding the sculpted plastic handle tightly in his left hand, positioning the wrist support and tucking the crucifix into the pliable leather pouch. He pulled the strong surgical elastic as far as it would go, aimed at the grinning monster's head and fired just as it turned to look at him.

The unorthodox but brutally effective missile struck the entity's left eye with a sharp plop. “I'll get you for that, short-arse!” it said, dabbing at its bleeding eye with the palm of its wickedly clawed hand, but the blood was quickly replaced by tongues of flame pouring from the socket, flames which soon engulfed its entire head. “I'll get you, Bumble – you see if I don't!” it roared as its head burned from the inside out and it tumbled to the ground in a twitching, flaming heap.

“We've won the battle,” Bumble said, his voice brimming with quiet confidence. “Or rather God has won it for us – it's not our time to die, my friends.” The lightning started to strike the creeping horde, the flying horrors crashing to the ground and the rest falling one after another, and before long they were all burning, their dying screams reverberating through the darkness. Eventually the flames died down, and the glowing embers were spread by a mighty wind, a wind that dissipated the bloody clouds and scattered all traces of the Satanic army. “Let's get some kip now,” Bumble said. “We're safe now, and I don't know about you two, but I'm knackered.”