A cool breeze tickles my closed lids, tempting them open with each lick of my lashes before lazily trailing its way down to my cracked lips. I open my mouth and swallow it, tasting cedar and rosewater. An exotic combo.
I slowly open my crusted eyes, peeling them apart as I savor the subtle flavors on my tongue.
I’m not in New York anymore that’s for sure. And that twisted human skin scroll library with Ruby and the good Father feels like a distant memory. As I push myself up to a sitting position I take in the landscape.
As far as the eye can see is a ruddy desert filled with small rocky mounds stretching up to various heights. But in the far distance are a series of more mountainous formations. They aren’t the sort in picture books, with snow-caps and all that jazz. These are raised plateaus that look like the ground violently threw them up. High up in the sky is a burning orange orb.
I slide myself to a kneeling position, pushing myself up to my feet. As I do I feel the gritty sand grind into my hands. I look down and realize I’m not wearing my Brioni suit anymore. Never liked it in the first place. Instead I’m in a loose-fitting white robe and worn leather sandals. Also, there’s no sign of Amos.
Where in the ten Hells am I? Dead? Last thing I remember was blowing up, or at least that’s what it felt like. This doesn’t read like any land of the dead I’ve heard about, but we are not on the material plane. Father Fermier’s little fetish dungeon wasn’t exactly grounded in the Earth realm. Maybe a pocket dimension?
But before I can muse anymore I’m interrupted by a thin, whiny voice that’s breathy with a hint of sulfur.
“Hey fuckface.”
I whip my head around but don’t see anyone.
“Yo, fucked dick. Down here.”
I look down past my immaculately white robe to the red sands. At my feet a scrubby brown-green shrubbery pokes up from the sand to about mid-thigh.
“You talking to me, bush?” I query the dried, gnarled branches.
“A-CHOO!”
A burst of flame blasts up from the base, scorching the tinder and setting it on fire.
Really? A burning fucking bush? What sort of fever dream is this?
“Sorry, dickwad. Allergies.”
From the flaming bush a blackish four-legged lizard with putrid yellow spots slithers out and into the sand.
“A-CHOO!”
Another long, bluish flame unfurls from the tiny creature.
“Goddammit. ‘Tis the season and all that.”
I gather my senses and ask the only sensible question.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“My friends call me Fat Sal but everyone else calls me Sally the Salamander.”
“So what am I?”
“Call me Sally. Welcome to my Kingdom.”
I’ve got to be tripping balls. It’s the only explanation. When I touched the scroll it must have been laced with something. Got into my bloodstream. Gonna have to wait it out. It’s not a pocket dimension, just a bad trip. I’m still back in the library, sucking air with an elevated heart rate while Ruby and Father Fuck are doing God knows what to my body. They said they wanted Amos, but not sure how this is going to get my personal King of Hell unlinked to my soul.
Just gotta play along.
“Okay, Sally. So what’s the deal here?”
The salamander slithers through the flames, unaffected.
“You want out, you just gotta climb the mountain. Only way. Otherwise you can stay here and be my friend. If ya do that, all ya gotta do is give up your soul and then you can enjoy calling me Fat Sal. Your call, pal.”
I look off at the mountains that sit right under the blazing sun. They aren’t that far. Maybe a day’s walk. Shouldn’t be too crazy.
“I’ll take the mountains, Sally. Need to get out of this trip. And I’d rather not lose my soul to a salamander.”
“Suit yourself, fucko. Here’s the deal. You have to make it to the top before the sun goes down. Otherwise, you start all over again. Good luck. You’ll need it!”
A-CHOO!
One more sneeze and the bush is ash.
“Remember, sundown!”
And with that Sally scurries away.
Sundown. I’m not giving up my soul to this little head trip bastard just to have him as my friend. This is MY fucking trip. Not his. I look up at the yellow-red orb that floats in the cloudless azure ozone. I’m not sure if it’s the heat, but the atmosphere seems to be rippling making the blue dome appear more like a calm ocean than a desert sky. I lick my lips thinking of how a nice tall cool glass of water would taste.
Time to start walking.
I put one foot in front of the other and begin the trek. As I do, something strange happens. I notice the sky begin to shift and the ozone ripples gently lap against the mountain’s flat top. I take another step. More ripples. I shift my gaze upward as I step again.
It’s not the sky. It’s the sun. Each step it gets lower in the sky. I take a step backward. It goes up. Forward. Down. Another step forward, another notch down. Hmmm. This is not going to be as easy as I thought. Step forward, it falls. Step backward, it rises.
I do some quick math. The sun is still relatively high in the sky. The mountains are about six or so hours walk away. Each step is an incremental drop in the sun’s trajectory. If I walk or run at about eight to ten miles per hour I should get there as the sun is almost sunk. But then I’ll still have to climb the mountain. If so, I’m assuming the same rules apply. I’ll never make it by sundown.
Either way, gotta give it a shot. So I start with a light jog, which turns into a full on run. Fuck it, might as well see what happens. The loose, white robe creates a nice cool breeze between my legs, keeping me from overheating. I’ll be honest, it’s pretty cool watching the sun drop in the sky with each pounding footfall as my leather sandals slap the slippery, dry sands.
Almost there. The sky is turning as red as the rocky mountain ridge. The blazing ball is about to kiss the flat tops as I huff and puff closer to the range’s base. As I approach, I can see some geological peculiarities that make these mountains feel right at home in this trip. I slow my pace to a canter, taking in their curious design.
The mountains appear sliced at the top, sharp and flat against the orange sky. Their faces look like hot wax was poured over them, dripping down and creating pock marks and rivulets on their journey to the base. This makes for lots of footholds and grips for climbing. I’m nearly there. Another fifty yards or so. Each step drops the sun another notch in the sky. Almost there.
As I get closer to the base, I notice that the terrain here’s more rugged. Lots more shrubs like the one from earlier as well as vines that weave their way between them like veins on a heavily muscled appendage.
I pick my way over and around the shrubs and tumbleweeds, stepping between the engorged vines. Fuck. With each leg forward another light beam disappears until the final shafts are vacuumed into the impending darkness.
It’s nightfall and I’ve finally made it. I reach up and take a good grip on the mountain face, sliding my sandal into one of the footholds. I haven’t died yet. Could be that Sally was full of shit.
“Sorry pal,” that whiny sulfur-infused voice slices through the dark. “Ya didn’t make it to the top before sundown.”
I crane my neck towards Sally’s voice. Sally sits on top of one of the girthier vines. He seems to have gotten much bigger in size.
“Seems pretty impossible, Sally. You sure you didn’t set me up to fail?”
Sally chuckles. “Sisyphus at least made it to the top. You’ll just have to get there and see.”
Sally opens his slimy triangular head, sending a flame stream that engulfs my entire body.
I can feel myself cooking from within, my skin bubbling and popping. I look down as the flesh slides from my bones, exposing medium rare meat. And then everything flashes bright red.
A moment of black before I can smell floral-tinged air tickling my nose. I stick out my tongue to taste it. Cedar and rosewater. Exquisite. And unfortunate as it means I’m back where I started. I open my eyes to confirm what I suspect. Yep. Square one.
Goddamnit. I really am Sisyphus, but I can’t even get up the fucking mountain.
Take two.
And so we go. Step after step. I will try it slower this time. My sandals slap the dry sands, pouring tiny grains between my toes. Each footfall and the sun clicks lower.
After hours I’m back to the shrub-infested mountain base. Then a thought strikes. I look down at the vines, an idea percolating. What if using them won’t affect the sun?
I reach down and grip one of the fibrous tubes, giving a hard yank to dislodge it from the desert floor. It comes up relatively easily, sending flecks of dirt flying as it disengages.
Once I have enough, I take one end of the ropey vine and fashion a loop. I’m gonna use it to hook one of the mountain's outcroppings and pull my way up.
I swing the vine and hurl it upward. It misses. The sun is nearly down, but it hasn’t dropped since I began this new endeavor. Might just work.
I go again. This time I hook a large outcropping. The sun is still several clicks in the sky and I’m about twenty yards from the base of the mountain. If I walk those last twenty the sun will be gone like the last time.
I pull on the rope. It’s strong and holds. I take a running start and leap, the rope swinging me towards the mountain. The sun only drops a notch or two. It worked!
I begin to pull myself up hand over hand. Shit. The orb gets more and more reddish as it drops while I ascend. Before I know it the sky has swallowed the sun and I’m only a quarter of the way up the mountain. Better, but no dice. I’m feeling like this game is rigged and Sally is gonna try to wear me down and take my soul.
It’s what Fermier wants. They keep me locked up in here, soulless, they can take Amos and use him for themselves. No telling what those two would do with that powerful demon at their disposal.
Sally’s sulfur whine cuts through the desert night.
“Nice try, asshole. Inventive, I’ll give you that. But back you go!”
Blast, pop, and back to the top of the tale.
Damn it. Something’s got to give!
Step and another, sun drops with each one. Six hours later and I’m back to the shrubs and vines.
“Ready to give up, Jeddy baby?” Sally’s voice is shrill and drills into my skull.
I pull on the vine again. I look up at the burning orb. It’s still hanging above the mountain. Pulsing. Taunting me. Another thought, another story. Alexander the Great and the Gordian knot. Sometimes you can’t go around it, ya just gotta go through it. Like the movie where the hero shoots the sword-swinging mustache-villain. Boom.
I’m on a trip with a talking salamander and a sun that is tied to my stride. Stranger things have been possible so I might as well make the craziest attempt. I start fashioning a loop with the ropey vine, but this time much bigger. It’s a lariat and I’m gonna do some roping.
“What in the fuck are you doing?”
Been a while since I’ve done this, but better than keep doing the same thing over and over again. That’s just insanity. My fingers finish the lariat and I begin to swirl the vine around my head. I was never too good a roper, but I got by. Some things ya pick up when you’re surviving the wild West.
My arm keeps pumping as my wrist begins to circle, sending the looped vine high up into the air.
I’m gonna rope the fucking sun.
My wrist twirls faster and faster until the lariat is a blur above my head.
“You wouldn’t dare!” squeals Sally.
I release, sending the spiraling loop shooting out across the sky towards the burning orange orb. First fucking try. The lariat encircles the blazing sun and miraculously it holds.
FWWOOOOSH.
My white robes are ensconced in flames as Sally lets out a fiery belch. Fortunately my grip is steady and I hold tight.
Another blast of white hot heat. I can feel the robe melting into my flesh. I don’t look down and keep my attention on the sun as I pull it closer and closer.
Another blast and my meat is closer to medium than rare. I give the lariat all I’ve got, pulling it with the last of my strength. I focus on my task, feeling my skin drip onto the burning desert sands. My final pull dislodges the sun from the sky, sending it careening earthbound into the mountain.
“You think you can come into my kingdom and cheat your way through my challenges?!” Sally screams.
There is no way in Hell I’d give up my soul to stay here with Fat Sal and his Gordian knot. Maybe I couldn’t untie it, but I sure as shit would cut it in two. And that’s exactly what I do.
My skin is bubbling and blistering as I swing the sun into the rocky protrusions. It drips to the ground, hissing on impact. But the sun does something much more dramatic.
The trajectory from its home into the mountain causes a tremendous explosion, shooting rocks and sand everywhere. The flat top cracks and slides down towards me, creating a ramp up to the top.
“NO!”
Sally’s whine is now a boom, something so loud that shouldn’t be emitting from such a tiny mouth. I drop the rope and try to cover my melted ears. My gooey hands stick to the sides of my oozing head, pulling flesh chunks as I try to block the sound.
I gotta get up that mountain before Sally burns me any more.
“What have you done!?”
I do my best to run, my charred white robe now black and caked in flesh chunks. It flakes as I painfully push forward up the broken mountain to the top. I pray that I’m really not Sisyphus and I can make it through.
The downed sun continues to burn, turning the landscape into an elemental river. The molten rocks stream across the barren landscape, catching Sally in its wake. I hear a hiss and pop.
“I’m melting…melting…” Sally’s voice is swallowed in the lava’s flow.
I don’t turn back to relish his death, instead forging ahead and up the mountain. Almost there. I can feel my flesh dropping in chunks to the ground. But I keep going.
My leather sandals are completely gone. I can feel my exposed soles being torn through to the bone. Must keep going.
No longer do I have eyelids to be tickled by the cool breeze or a tongue to taste the cedar and rosewater. It’s all acrid flavors now.
In the distance I can hear voices. I push ahead towards them. If I don’t make it out of here it’s going to be perma-death for sure. I follow the voices. I can make out one of them. It’s Ruby.
As I get closer I can feel a change in the air. It’s not as heavy and the atmosphere is thinner. My pace quickens and my heartbeat elevates. I can only see darkness out of my seared eyes. Extreme pain ripples across every extremity. I keep telling myself that once I cross everything will be alright. Gotta have faith.
The voices get louder. I reach out, feeling the air with my nubby digits.
The sky is no longer air but something else. Something thicker and gelatinous. Time to step through this threshold and pray for the best.
My bony extensions pull me through the blackness as the goo sucks me in deeper, leaving the boiling mountain and its melted desert behind.
Louder. It sounds like just one voice now.
Ruby.
“Father Fermier! What’s happening? Answer me!”
She sounds frantic. I am getting closer.
I pull myself forward using her voice to guide me. The cooling gel encases my body, filling my mouth, nose, and coating me through and through. It feels incredible.
I inhale and swallow deeply as the salve rejuvenates me.
And then I burst through, gasping as the pungent air slices my throat and pierces my lungs, puncturing my chest cavity.
I’m alive.
I open my eyes to see I’m back in the library. My entire body is covered in something sticky. I lick my lips and taste the heavy flavors of iron and other metals along with sweet high notes.
I know that taste. It’s blood. And it’s everywhere. Looks like a goddamned slaughterhouse.
Before I look I already know what happened.
“Father Fermier!” Ruby cries.
I turn my attention to her as I wipe the blood from my eyes.
She runs at me, fists flailing. I grab them, stopping her mid-swing. I turn my attention to the chair behind me. In it is Father Fermier. Or what’s left of him. His entire body has been split in two. Looks like my handiwork when I came through the mountain.
Fermier’s bizarre anatomy is on display, splayed out with bones, grit, and gore.
In the other chair, head lolled backwards and eyes pure white along with swollen tongue protruding from a half-open mouth, is me. Dead as a doornail.
Interesting.
And through it all is Ruby screaming her fucking head off.
I smack her.
“Shut the fuck up and let me think.”
The wallop surprises her and she stops yapping. I walk over to my dead body and unclasp my holster. I slide it around my naked waist and buckle up, Amos hanging from my side.
“Holy shit, Jed. What the fuck just happened?”
I don’t answer as I pull him from his leather home and aim his gaping hole at my already dead head.
BANG.
Relieved I don’t have to look at my empty face I turn my attention to Ruby.
“We need to get my fucking pinky back and you’re going to take me. No funny stuff.”
She’s just staring at me, mouth ajar. I guess she’s never seen a naked gunslinger and his demon gun before, covered in blood after blowing his own brains out.
Guess I better get cleaned up and put some clothes on. And not that damn Brioni suit.
Unfortunately before I have a chance to figure out my wardrobe I hear a commotion at the door. It thwacks open followed by shouting.
“Get down asshole or we will blow you to hell!”
Blow me to Hell? Sounds exciting. I sigh and turn to the door. I can feel the gentle breeze between my legs. I’m a shower and a grower. I can see the nephilim are surprised.
“You really want to do this?”
Amos is alive in my hand as I face the twenty or so unholy guards dressed in their tactical gear waving high-powered weaponry in my general direction.
I don’t even have time to get dressed before they start shooting.
******
TO BE CONTINUED!!!
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