Shadowman, page 16
part #1 of The Valiant Universe Series
“What?!” Nibo’s disbelief eclipsed his ever-present insouciance, giving way to a tone bordering on protest. “How did he manage to attack then?”
Unlike her subordinates, Brigitte maintained a calm disposition despite her piqued curiosity. “I can’t imagine the fledgling host was capable of engaging you at that distance.”
The assembly collectively turned toward their master as he cackled once more before L’Orage could respond. They glanced among themselves in confusion while L’Orage seemed to be the only one who was deriving any enjoyment from the display.
Having had his fill, the baron finally began to speak. “Bossu Koblamin has befriended the heir,” he announced, the green of his eyes growing brighter as he spoke. “How exciting.”
L’Orage suddenly turned around, casting her gaze across the distant landscape.
Brigitte scoffed. “But he hates everyone.”
“Apparently this newest bugger is the exception.”
“But why?”
Deferring his response, the baron knowingly gazed at the female titan just before she let out a gasp of surprise, her back still turned toward them.
“What now?” Nibo asked.
L’Orage quickly faced them. Her locs continued whipping to and fro in front of her grimacing face.
Masaka swung his shovel upward, resting it upon his shoulder. “Don’t tell me . . .”
The wrinkling on her forehead more akin to astonishment than anything else, L’Orage set her eyes on her master as she spoke. “He’s here.”
“They are here,” the baron replied before turning to his wife. “As to why this bugger is the exception, we will soon discover.”
His eyes grew even brighter, and though he was facing Brigitte, it was clear she was not the focus of his gaze.
“What do you see?” she asked.
He hummed to himself. “This one,” he began, “is different.”
“Master?”
“A lion’s whelp indeed, I see why Bruh Bossu took to him so.” A raspy tittering began to leak through his grin. “The kid is trying to get our attention.”
“How?”
The seemingly entranced skeleton refused to turn his head from his wife, thoroughly intrigued by whatever he was witnessing. “With violence.”
Hearing this, Papa crushed the apple he had been eating with his hand, causing it to explode with a loud pop. “He dares do such a thing?”
“It is all right,” the baron said, his bony hand lazily beckoning for calm. “He will be taught the formalities soon enough.” He hummed once more. “Having the time of his life he is, therefore let us be good hosts and allow him a warm welcome.” His eyes came to a calm as he addressed Brigitte. “In the meantime, dear wife, inform my brethren that I request their attendance.”
CHAPTER 11
Using the void as an interdimensional hub, Bossu expounded on how the Deadside could be reached, requiring a description of the void’s nature and how it differed from the realm of the dead.
Despite all the concepts and instruction being presented in the abstract, while his sole medium of application was mostly physical, Jack discerned the manner best suited for his sixth sense to accomplish the task. Standing in front of the aperture he formed within the void, he calmly peered into the newly accessible underworld.
Relative to the perfect darkness of Bossu’s abode, the otherwise gloomy Deadside appeared bright. Its light entered the aperture but was only able to penetrate the short distance to where Jack stood. “I bet I got the hang of this better than anyone else, right?”
“Such a wager would indeed profit,” Bossu replied.
Without moving a muscle, Jack began closing and opening the aperture repeatedly, steadily increasing speed as he did it.
“All that talk about the different realms and how only my world and the Deadside are parallels of one another. And how the void is a pocket dimension somehow existing between all the realms.” Like the shutter of a camera, Jack had been manipulating the aperture with such rapidity that it caused the light from the Deadside to flicker within.
“You fancy yourself an idol now?” Bossu asked.
Jack blurted out a chuckle, causing the flickering light to momentarily lose its rhythm. “What?” he said. “I would never condone idol worship.”
“No, I mean to say, the ones your era calls celebrities.”
“Where are you getting this stuff from, Bossu?”
“It is mere coincidence that your manipulation is creating an effect identical to the countless flashes that dance about them?”
“Cameras?” Jack began smirking, maintaining the furiously blinking aperture as he looked about his vicinity. “I see what you mean, but yeah, it’s just a coincidence.”
“Sure it is.”
“What I was getting at was that you could’ve just said it’s like pulling apart two sheets of paper.”
Bossu scoffed. “Even you would think it strange if I said something like that.”
Jack stopped the flicker, holding the aperture open. “True.”
“I cannot overstate how fortunate you are to interpret your shadow sense in the way that you do. It makes things far simpler than they should be. It is almost unfair.”
“Ha-ha.” The young host was filled with confidence as he walked through the aperture and sealed it behind him. The rapidity of its closing created a small suction at his back. “You mean for my predecessors, right?”
“No.”
Jack observed his new environment with an enthusiasm incongruous with the grim nature of the scenery. He breathed deeply in an attempt to reel in his excitement, deeming it somewhat inappropriate.
“Too chilly for you, whelp?”
Only upon hearing his Lwa’s taunt did Jack notice the strangeness of the air filling his enchanted lungs with every breath. Though its quality could be expressed as a notable absence of warmth, the sense of cold was not necessarily the kind mitigated by excess clothing.
“It’s not chilly,” Jack replied, “more lifeless than anything else. Kinda like a corpse.”
“Indeed it is.”
Jack sniffed the air with delicately drawn breaths. “Smells like one too,” he said before coughing into his arm. “This is the same stink from earlier at the terminal.” He coughed again, more forcefully. “But without impediment.”
The point of his emergence being atop the collapsed remains of some dilapidated structure, he was granted a fairly wide view of his immediate surroundings. His attention was captured by several denizens quarreling among themselves on the ground close by. The snarls and grunts by which they communicated were phlegmy and labored. The intense stomach-churning nature of these sounds was surpassed only by their owners’ appearance.
Damn, he said silently, addressing Bossu, and I thought you were hideous.
“My feelings are hurt.”
While it was true that Jack found him to be grotesque, at least the Lwa was somewhat humanoid; these monsters were not.
The most animated of the group nearest to him was mostly reptilian in appearance. Its skin seemed to be in the process of shedding. Various areas on its body contained dry sloughs curled back and out. The head, however, held countless eyes that were arranged atop its crown rather than fixed within its face.
Jack cringed at the sight. “This one’s like that frog that carries eggs and tadpoles on its back.” He began snapping his fingers, summoning recollection. “I forget its name.”
“Cryptobatrachus,” Bossu stated.
“Yeah!” Jack abandoned his brief enthusiasm. “Damn, Bossu, you would’ve been clutch during exams.”
The phlegmy clicking of another monstrosity returned Jack to the task at hand. Just as repulsive as its cohort, this one-eyed fiend had four horns jutting from its head. Two from the top and two from the back, their roots formed various sections of skull. The top two met at the forehead and enclosed the monster’s solitary giant yellow eye within a cleft of bone, while the remaining two extended from the rear occipital. Despite all this, the monster’s brain could be seen couched within their midst, the horns’ roots failing to spread over the exposed crown.
Though repulsed, Jack moved closer to get a better view and began to see more of the realm’s wretched minions. They flocked together in various clusters, reminiscent of the locals at the bus stop back home.
He inadvertently dislodged some rubble as he leaned forward, causing debris to tumble down toward the monsters directly beneath him.
The clattering sound got their attention, and the creatures turned from their squabble to trace its cause. Jack readied himself as the creatures finally noticed him positioned above them, but, to his surprise, they continued their bickering.
“What happened?” Jack asked. “I know they saw me.”
“So?” Bossu replied. “They do not sense you as human and, since seemingly of their ilk, have no reason to seek a quarrel with you.”
“So, it’s like a human walking past a group of humans—”
“Rather than a giant cockroach passing them.”
“Humans will still attack their own, though.”
“This is true, however, the difference lies in the fact that these ones are participants in eternal torture. As such, they no longer retain the sentiments motivating such behavior. Their pride has been utterly stamped out, in other words—”
“They have nothing to prove,” Jack said. “Literally.” He turned away from them, recommencing his surveillance of the landscape. “Best to leave them be. I kinda feel bad for them.”
“That will change,” Bossu replied.
Jack found himself morbidly captivated by his surroundings. Though the majority of the Deadside seemed to be in a state of perpetual darkness, scanning the horizon, Jack spied several sectors that seemed to carry the light of day despite there being no visible sun.
“How can you be so sure?” he said. His sights left the horizon as he began peering about the land closer to his own vicinity. “Might change, might not.”
He could almost see Bossu shaking his head as he gave his reply. “As you wish.”
Jack paused his observations as a sense of familiarity gradually began to assert itself, causing him to stare ahead, stunned. “I know this place.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” he replied confidently, “the structures aren’t the same, and the landmasses and rock formations are obviously different, but I know this place.”
Intuitively, his eyes moved toward one of the larger buildings in his proximity, its details overlooked during his initial sweep. Climbing to a higher vantage point, Jack could observe its shape—an absurdly impractical tomb-like coliseum.
Jack gestured toward it, pointing his finger with a calm recognition. “That’s Caesars Superdome.” Jack maintained his position as his eyes darted about the area, quickly identifying several other landmarks based on their Deadside equivalents. “So this really is just a dead version of the real world.”
“Deadside. Liveside. Do you get it?”
Jack did a double take as he scanned across a new section of the landscape, the subtle movements of some structure in the distance catching his eye. Unfortunately, while the mound on which he stood was elevated, it was far from the largest thing around.
Whatever caught his eye was positioned so that it was obscured by the abnormally shaped constructions arranged before it, which also ascended against the horizon. Watching his footing, Jack shifted for a better view.
Jack held his breath as if taking aim between the towering obstructions until, finally, he saw all he needed to see.
He began clenching his teeth. “That’s the giant from before,” he said.
“Indeed,” Bossu replied. “I recommend you not repeat what you did earlier.”
Jack steadied the already tensed appendage. “And instead?”
“Too ambitious for stealth, are—”
The Lwa was cut off by his host’s sudden bellows. “Hey, you!”
Jack remained still as his echo was carried outward, momentarily reverberating against the collection of nearby landmasses and buildings, only to die out long before reaching the imposing edifices of the background.
Undeterred, Jack cupped his hands around his mouth and took a deep breath, ignoring the looks of confusion coming from the various monstrosities surrounding his position.
“HEEEEYYY!!!”
His voice was louder this time but, again, it fell far short of the intended target.
“Unfortunately,” Bossu began with a chuckle, “that will not work.”
Ignoring the comment, Jack scanned the vicinity in an aggravated search for a solution. He had been unknowingly baring his teeth, releasing his mounting frustration through a sustained and guttural growl.
Of all the denizens available for him to have locked eyes with, Jack managed to do it with the monster that possessed only one. For a moment, he felt confused by the creature’s steadily increasing hostility.
“You are aware it interprets your glare as a challenge, correct?”
“I’m not glar—” Jack stopped his response to Bossu, finally becoming aware of his countenance. Unfazed, he maintained eye contact and began glaring all the more, his aggression subsiding only to allow a fleeting grin of excitement.
“Oh?” Bossu began. “You think you can take them on?”
“I don’t know . . .”
Though Jack had already come to appreciate his general state of fearlessness, as he sized up his opponents, he was struck by the more subtle changes evoked by its presence.
“You may not know,” Bossu replied, “nor do I expect you to. However, I am asking. What do you think?”
Though lacking a counterpart to accentuate the sentiment, the eye of the provoked monster had contorted itself into a look of seething contempt. Spread thin with its corners ascending to the crown of its head, the eye was consequently bent into a downward curve, creating a truly startling expression.
Jack, however, was unable to be swayed by fear one way or the other. He found himself able to assess the situation accurately, his judgment tainted by neither pride nor doubt. He watched as the offended monstrosity began its advance toward him, its slow snarling becoming a disjointed series of threatening clicks.
“I think I can take them,” he finally replied.
Bossu hummed in anticipation. “We shall see.”
As if prompted by the Lwa’s statement, the cyclops suddenly took off, bounding up the mound toward Jack.
Uncomfortable with the rubble’s unsure footing, Jack leaped from his position.
The monster halted its advance rather quickly, watching its inexperienced opponent soar overhead before angrily snapping its teeth at him. Jack was forced to awkwardly keep his sights on the creature while airborne, but it was behind him upon landing.
“A somersault would have been more suitable,” Bossu said. “The manner of your vault has put you in a disadvantageous position.”
Being mindful of the enemy at his back, Jack quickly scanned the demonic audience to his front and found himself pleasantly surprised at the varied personalities displayed on their otherwise hideous visages.
Although aggression was the overwhelming sentiment, some looked confused and intrigued, while others seemed rather disinterested.
Jack quickly peered over his shoulder to see the cyclops sprinting in for a sneak attack. While he had been alerted by the sound of the monster’s movement, Jack was delighted at the additional information communicated by his sixth sense, enabling him to perceive what his limited peripheral vision could not.
It’s just like the security guards at the parking lot! he said silently.
Bossu chuckled as his host faced forward in a bold attempt to test the appendage’s precision. “Your timing is impeccable, Jack.”
Jack discerned the cyclops winding up its hand in a very human way, preparing to strike. Before he could lament his negligence in determining the physical properties of its hands prior to now, the appendage dutifully transmitted the information in thorough detail.
Long and thin—he thought, listing his perceptions to himself—bulbous at the tips, clenching for attack. He perceived the amphibious fist as it was sent toward the back of his head and weaved to the side. Nice.
Jack threw up his hands as the cyclops stumbled past him, and though filled with confidence, he felt slightly self-conscious as his Lwa began making fun of him.
“That is your stance?”
The young host could not help but smile as the monster quickly recovered and attacked again. “It’s fine!” he replied aloud.
The communication of his sixth sense fell to the back of Jack’s mind as he realized the attacks were easy to read just from sight and instinct alone. He evaded its flurry of punches with ease, alternating between head tilts and footwork based on the trajectory of each attack.
I’m testing out how fast I’ve become, he began, answering a question that he sensed Bossu was about to ask. Might as well do it now.
The Lwa replied quickly to his host’s preemptive statement. “Just keep in mind that you have an audience.” Jack turned his head for less than a second, only to see his onlookers relatively unchanged in both position and demeanor. “And watch that kick.”
What k—
WHAM!
Taking advantage of Jack’s momentary distraction, the cyclops took the opportunity to extend a swift kick to his face.
“Hm hm hm.”
Jack slipped back to create some distance from the monster and could hear Bossu’s chuckling in his head. But before he could get offended, he froze in awe at how utterly painless the attack was.
Am I injured? I didn’t feel a thing!
Exhilarated with this newfound resilience, Jack began grinning at the growling demon. “This freak is so pissed!”
After saying this, he reached forward with his arm and began flexing the four fingers of his hand, palm side up.
“Eh?” Bossu voiced. “This beckoning gesture—it is a form of mockery portrayed in your movies, yes?”
Video games too, the young host replied, still flexing his fingers. Not sure if it works on monsters, though.
“You are not taking this seriously, whelp.”
