Violet was on her feet before Bane had stopped moving. “Thanks for that.”
“I didn’t do it for you, sister. I did it for me. That little faggot was a coward and I don’t have a place for people like that.” Armitage holstered his gun and adjusted his tie as he rose from his chair. “What was your plan? You gonna toss that statue into the pit to hell?”
“That’s it in a nutshell. We don’t have long before somebody finds out about this.” She looked around and spotted a small closet. A quick examination showed that it was unlocked and contained a few small cleaning supplies. “Drag his body in here.”
“What about the blood stains?”
Violet knew that dragging a chair over them wouldn’t work. His body was lying in a spot where furniture would look very odd if put there. “Can’t be helped.”
Armitage grunted and went to work. Despite the fact that he outweighed Bane by nearly a hundred pounds, the man’s dead weight made it difficult going. The crime boss was huffing and puffing by the time he finally shoved Bane’s corpse into the closet and Violet shut the door.
“Now what?” he asked, fanning himself by rapidly opening and closing his jacket.
Violet looked down at her gaily-colored dress. “First order of business: we head back to my room and I change into something black. If it’s all falling to pieces, I want to be in comfortable clothes.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m really fucking serious. Don’t argue with a woman when she says she wants to change clothes.”
CROWLEY FELT BOTH terrified and elated. The Hellmouth was bigger than he’d imagined, being nearly twelve feet high and some fifteen feet wide. It rested on the floor, like a gaping mouth ridged by rocky teeth. A stench tumbled out of it on a regular basis, like the belching of some ancient and diseased god.
The basement had brick walls and a dirt floor. It was lit only by two small electric bulbs, which hung from the ceiling on thin wires. The breeze emanating up from the Hellmouth caused the lights to occasionally swing, giving the room a psychedelic effect as shadows and light warred with each other.
The world’s most powerful dark magician crouched at the Hellmouth’s edge and peered down into its stygian darkness. “Have you ever dropped anything into it?”
Main sounded quite proud. “Yes. On two different occasions. The first time was nearly six months ago. I tied a rope around a cat I’d found on the grounds and lowered him in. I felt a powerful tugging on the rope and nearly lost my grip on it. After a moment, the pressure on the other end vanished and I reeled it back in. The cat was still there, but it was howling in agony. All the fur and flesh from its body was gone. It had been flayed while still alive. I killed it with a strong kick to the head. It was a mercy slaying.”
Crowley seemed to be pleased by these comments. He nodded and smiled. “And the second time, Doctor Main?”
“The second time was just last week.” Main shifted his weight from foot to foot, hesitating. “We had a troublesome guard here at the institute. He found fault with some of our methods for treating schizophrenia. When he threatened to expose our secrets, I had him drugged and brought down here. I rolled his body in.”
Burkard, standing quite far from the Hellmouth, was the one who asked the obvious. “‘What happened?”
“At first, nothing. I was terribly disappointed. After nearly ten minutes, I prepared to head back upstairs. That’s when I heard an odd sound behind me. I turned towards the Hellmouth and saw three tentacles rising up from below. They weren’t quite like those of an octopus or squid… they were different in some unholy way that’s hard to describe. The tentacles felt along the edge of the mouth, as if they were searching for more scraps to eat. Finally, they dipped back below.”
Burkard moved a few steps closer. He caught Crowley’s eye. “I say we take The Damned Thing from her now. We toss her and her friends into this pit and then get the hell away from here.”
Crowley rose to his full height and regarded Burkard with open contempt. “I would expect nothing less from you, Johann. You’re a coward at heart. We have a wonderful opportunity here, my boy. Yes, we will take The Damned Thing from her. But we also have the ability to commune with the dukes of hell! How can you turn away from that?”
“Because it does not sound like the dukes of hell are down in there! It sounds to me like there is some hungry demon that would just as soon flay you as grant you terrible power! But if you want to go crawling down in there, be my guest. I’ll take the statue and you can have the Hellmouth. A fair trade?”
“I think it far more likely — and deserving — that I get both.”
Burkard drew a handgun, cocking it before uttering a small chuckle. “I have a better idea. How about you take a flying leap into the Hellmouth right now? You can get a firsthand look at your dukes of hell.”
“Gentlemen, please!” Main held up his hands, obviously seeking a peaceful resolution. “I don’t know what object you’re talking about but if our visitors today have brought something to this island, they won’t leave with it! I’ll procure it for the two of you and you can sort out its ownership later.”
Crowley kept his eyes on the pistol pointed in his direction. “What do you say, Johann? Shall we take the good doctor’s advice?”
Burkard seemed unmoved. “Not sure I see why that would be an advantage to me. I can remove you now and be assured of getting The Damned Thing for myself. Leave you alive and I’ll just have to watch out for you betraying me later.”
Crowley spread his arms and lowered his head. “Then by all means, get it over with, Johann. Your logic is inescapable.”
Burkard whirled about when Main lunged for him. The asylum’s director grabbed hold of Burkard’s wrist and the two men began wrestling for control of the weapon. Crowley wisely chose to stay out of the fracas, though he began creeping towards the door. If Burkard came away with the gun, Crowley would simply step out of the basement and lock his rival inside.
Main hissed like a cat and Burkard was shocked at the strength of the other man. Only one of them had fought and killed multiple enemies, however, and that was Johann Burkard. The occult collector had earned his wealth not just through savvy business dealings but also through a violently ferocious nature. The German managed to twist the gun barrel until it was wedged against the underside of Main’s chin.
Burkard smiled, leaning close so that his lips brushed against the director’s ear. “Take two and call me in the morning, doctor.” Burkard squeezed the trigger twice, though only one shot was necessary to blow off the top of Main’s head. A bloody spray consisting of bone fragments, blood and brain matter rained down a moment later, soaking Burkard’s hair and shoulders. Main’s corpse toppled backwards, landing a few feet away from the Hellmouth.
Crowley was now on the other side of the doorway, ready to slam the barrier shut. “There is no need for this, Johann. We had an agreement and I was willing to fulfill it.”
Burkard reached up to wipe a bit of gore out of the corner of his eye. Without answering Crowley, he put away his gun and moved towards Main’s body. “Help me, will you?” he asked. He bent over and began rolling Main’s remains towards the Hellmouth.
Crowley hesitated but finally moved to offer a hand. He was much too curious to see the Hellmouth in operation to refuse. Together, they shoved the corpse into the hole and it vanished without a trace. Another noxious burst of gas emanated from the hole as it welcomed in its new prize.