Disenchantment 40

*****

 

 

 

 

He had been walking with his gun drawn until they left the wash and vegetation area. They had used the light of the fire that they had seen on occasion to mostly guide them in the right direction. When they entered the clearing, and Mark had suggested that the figures near the fire were those that they were following, Hornblende holstered his police-issued weapon, but kept his right hand on his revolver. He wasn’t sure what he should be doing in this strange place. All his police training felt like inadequate suggestions and he didn’t want to unnecessarily frighten the others.

 

The place was stranger, very much stranger than anything he had ever experienced throughout his life. Hornblende couldn’t help but think that he was above his head in a dream, a nightmare. However, one would not think that by looking at him, as he kept his appearance impassive and determined.

 

As they got closer, Hornblende could see that there was a confrontation happening. Every instinct told him to draw his gun, but he didn’t. He did say to Mark: “Have that taser out. Not sure what’s going on here.”

 

They got close enough for Hornblende to recognize Phileus, Malbourne, and Benson. There were two others that seemed to be circling around Benson, while the weirdo and the attorney just stood there watching. They had been speaking prior to that, but it was at that point he heard the first words that he could understand due to being close enough. They came from Phileus: “I don’t want to hurt you guys, but I need at least two more people to go with me.”

 

Hornblende responded that there were two more people there now for Phileus and after everyone seemed to calm down some, drop their guard, and notice himself and Nicastro, he asked where they were going.

 

Phileus had been so relieved to see them come that he hugged Nicastro upon seeing him. Those two had been friends for a time.

 

It turned out that the other two men were immigrants, probably the illegal kind. Phileus had been paying them to come and wait for this bizarre hellscape to open up, only to have them decide they no longer wanted to go, once they learned it was real. Hornblende didn’t blame them really, and wondered why he was still willing to go himself.

 

After everyone had calmed down, the two men apologized to Phileus, and he had done the same to them. They only needed four people to continue, and Hornblende had a good idea who else wouldn’t want to go.

 

“Well, Oren, you only need four people, and I might just get in the way. I think it’s better if I remain behind,” said Malbourne.

 

“Of course you think that,” said Nicastro.

 

“Look,” said Malbourne, not necessarily angry, but still slightly upset, “If Oren believes that there needs to be four people, it’s possible that I might just get in the way.”

 

“It’s fine,” said Phileus. “We’ll be needing those coins.”

 

“Of course,” replied Malbourne. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a small case that was about the size of a wallet. “Should I keep one unless you only need four?”

 

“No.”

 

“What are the coins for?” asked Hornblende.

 

“To cross the River Styx,” explained Mark.

 

“Why are you here?” asked Phileus, looking at Hornblende.

 

“Mister Nicastro got himself into some trouble. While he was at the police station, he told me about your...experience and how it might be related to everything that was happening to the planet lately. I’m just here to see if we can fix this.”

 

Oren Phileus seemed to think for a moment, not sure how to take it. Finally, he spoke: “Welcome aboard.”

 

The group milled about for a few minutes with individual conversations happening sporadically. Phileus retrieved the coins from Malbourne and had a brief conversation; Benson seemed to linger near the migrant workers for a time, saying their goodbyes; Nicastro also had a conversation with Phileus at one point, while almost sneering at Malbourne.

 

Hornblende had no love for Malbourne as well as he had always considered the man to be vain and arrogant, but he thought that might be primarily due to his occupation, as Hornblende had little appreciation for attorneys. He didn’t know what to think of Nicastro at times, yet found himself warming up to him. Nicastro had the capacity to be a petty criminal, but he also had the capacity to be something better if only he could get out of his own way at times.

 

Soon, the seven split into two groups, four venturing onward, three remaining behind. Malbourne had mentioned that the three would venture back toward the vehicles, but as the group Hornblende was in left, they were still nervously milling about the fire.

 

 

 

 

*****

 

 

 

 

Floyd Benson got increasingly excited. His life’s work, in search of meaning, and by extension, power, was bearing fruit, unnaturally large, luscious, and juicy fruit in fact. Back at the cars he had felt like a kid waking up on Christmas morning when the night went quiet and the stars disappeared. The feeling burned hotter when he realized that Ricardo and Jesus were suddenly speaking English. However, Floyd soon began to assume that there was some sort of magic in it, and that everyone was actually speaking their native tongues, but were somehow understood by others. That would make sense in the realm of the gods who maybe wanted to take a shortcut to communication with the recent souls of the dead who came from many places whose languages had evolved over time.

 

His feeling of anticipation only increased as they had made their way through the wash and into the clearing with the fire. He hadn’t witnessed any animate creatures at that point, but he felt that he soon would. While others, primarily Ricardo and Jesus, seemed to get increasingly nervous and scared, Floyd felt wonderfully enthusiastic.

 

The only point that he had begun to worry about was when Oren faced off with the two last-minute members of the group. On one level he almost didn’t care what happened to any of them, as he would certainly continue on alone if he had to do so, but he would have preferred doing it Oren’s way, as that was probably the way the gods of this place seemed to want things to go. Everything else that Oren had said seemed to be coming true, so it was best to follow the rules as he understood them.

 

He was truly developing feelings of friendship with Jesus and Ricardo and he was disappointed to depart from them. However, the most important thing for him was getting into the underworld, seeing the gods, perhaps learning from them, increasing his knowledge, becoming powerful. He didn’t truly have any friends and knew that he would have to cut anyone loose who didn’t further his goals.

 

After Malbourne and the others were out of sight in their wake, Floyd began questioning Oren: “Why haven’t we seen anyone yet?”

 

“I don’t know,” replied Oren. “The last time I was here, I had seen quite a bit by this point.”

 

“Are we near where you saw Thanatos and Epiales yet?”

 

“We’re getting close, but not yet.”

 

“Why haven’t we seen anyone yet?”

 

“I don’t know, Floyd. That clearing where we left Malbourne. The last time I was here there were a bunch of Jawa-looking people there. That tree was where all the owls were and I was surrounded by snake-like creatures at some point. I don’t know why they aren’t here this time.”

 

They walked forward in almost a diamond pattern. Hornblende, the seemingly alpha of the group, took point. Oren and himself were in the second row, and his former neighbor Mark brought up the rear.

 

“See that?” asked Oren.

 

“No,” replied Hornblende.

 

“Turn off your flashlight for a bit.”

 

Hornblende did, and they all saw the fire burning ahead, not a natural fire with reds and yellows and oranges, but a fire with shades of purple and violet. The group started heading toward it.

 

“That’s beautiful,” said Floyd.

 

“I'd say that it’s more creepy than anything else,” Mark responded.

 

The group made their way to the fire. Floyd looked down into the circular brick enclosure of the unusual flames. This particular fire was narrower, only about half the diameter of the first one. “Where do we go now?” he asked.

 

“This is about as far as I’d gone. This is where I saw Thanatos, who was scary enough, but also Epiales, and he was absolutely horrifying. There is a river near here.”

 

“I thought I heard a river when we were further back there,” said Mark as he turned and pointed behind them. “But, then it went quiet.”

 

“Yes, I thought I heard that as well,” said Hornblende.

 

Floyd wandered a bit farther forward. “I think I see it.

 

The group continued forward, reverting back to their former marching order with Hornblende in the lead.

 

“Yes, I went to the river, but you could hear the river,” Oren said. “You could clearly hear it. There was a reason that it went quiet for a time...“

 

“Holy shit, there’s something big up ahead, and it’s coming straight for us!” Yelled Hornblende.

 

“It’s Epiales, he doesn’t like the sound of the river. He turns it off! Sorry, I forgot all about that.” Oren did not look okay in the slightest, a horrified expression had taken over the quiet desperation that had previously lingered on his face.

 

Floyd looked ahead, but couldn’t see beyond Hornblende. He walked up beside him to see what he could see. His jaw involuntarily dropped at the sight and he let out a low sound: “Oh no.”

 

Coming toward them at a relatively rapid pace, was a huge lumbering humanoid figure. All of Floyd’s confidence about learning the secrets of the gods and even becoming one, began to rapidly decline. If that horrific creature was what he came to join, he wondered why he would want to do so at all.

 

“Stop!” yelled Hornblende. He had drawn his gun, taken a firing stance and was almost frozen in place.

 

Floyd wondered if the creature could even understand before he remembered that lack of fluency of a particular language didn’t seem to be an issue at all in this place. “I don’t think he’s going to stop.”

 

“I’ll fire. I’m warning you. I’ll fire. Stop.” Hornblende didn’t seem to be scared at all. Floyd didn’t look behind to see what Oren and Mark were doing.

 

The creature kept coming forward and Hornblende began pulling the trigger. Three shots echoed through the silence, almost deafening. Epiales didn’t slow at all.

 

“Thanatos!” yelled Oren, “Help!”

 

The dull, lifeless eyes didn’t change at all and he still kept coming forward. Hornblende fired again, this time the blasts from the pistol were so rapid that Floyd couldn’t count the number of shots.

 

Overly large, milky eyes seemed to observe everything and nothing and tattered remnants of what might have once been passable garments flopped around as the creature, apparently Epiales, continued forward with a lurching gate. The shots that Hornblende had fired didn’t even slow him down as he barreled right into the police officer.