Reign of Evil

Their presence made him uneasy, especially when he observed their eerily human fronts. Their simian faces held human eyes and bore odd expressions. Sometimes it seemed like they were in pain, sometimes it seemed as if they were trying to laugh, neither of which they could accomplish with their animal facial structure.

“Get ready.” He backed away from the men standing in front of him and drew his sword. When he was ready and when his men had their swords drawn, their Fairbarn-Sykes commando knives in their other hands, he made the call. “Here, doggie, doggie. Come to Poppa.”

The machine gunner up the road with the front of the house vantage spoke through the coms. “You got their attention. Call again.”

Ian whistled. “Here, doggy, doggy.”

“Here they come.”

The men heard it as well.

He gripped Guy of Warwick’s sword tightly.

Instead of coming through the shrubbery, the hounds leaped over the seven-foot hedge. They came down on the other side of the line of men, facing Ian all alone.

This was not exactly how the plan was supposed to have gone. One of the hounds rushed at him and he brought his sword down on its shoulder, the black blade slicing through meat until it struck bone. He jerked the blade free and brought it down for another attack, but this time the beast backed away.

Meanwhile three Marines had caught the second hound by surprise and were busy hacking it to death. Even as it tried to spin, pieces of it fell away. Once separated, they turned to smoke and drifted away.

Ian feinted.

The hound jerked back, then leaped forward.

Ian was forced to backpedal. He barely kept his balance.

The hound leaped.

Ian brought his sword up in a blind defense and ended up skewering the creature, the tip of the blade entering through the mouth. It fell hard, ripping the sword free from his hand. For a moment, he was worried that he was now weaponless. But the hound was dead and he watched it first fall to pieces and then those pieces turn to smoke. His sword was left lying in the grass. He snatched it from the ground and looked for something else to attack.

But the hounds were gone.

Not that they’d won the day or anything, but succeeding in killing what they’d previously been unable to kill elated him.

He could see the Marines smiling at their accomplishment, but he had to force himself to remain unaffected.

“They weren’t prepared. They will be now.”

The Marine at the back of the vacant house with his machine gun reported, “They’re massing a platoon of men with weapons—looks like SA80s—up on the Tor. Looks like there are some robed figures with them and several dozen hounds.”

Ian wished he could see their formation. “Are they coming down, or are they performing a blocking maneuver?”

“They’re not moving, if that’s what you mean.”

Ian had worked his way back to the shrubbery and the party at the house was still going in full force. He ordered four of his men to the door.

They ran the length of the shrubbery, then exited onto the road, east of the house. If they were being observed, now was the moment for an observer to fire at them. But no shots came. They were able to stack themselves on either side of the smoldering doorframe.

“The body is Asian,” one of the men said.

Ian let out a sigh of relief. At least it wasn’t Trevor.

One of the Marines peered inside, then jerked his head back.

“Report?”

“Uh…”

“Come on, Marine, what do you see?”

“A lot of bloody fucking.”

Ian had no response.

“Everywhere. Everyone. It’s one big orgy. What do you want us to do?”

Ian had been prepared for pretty much anything. But not this. He’d been ready to defend or to attack, but what could he do to rooms filled with people in coitus?

“We have more hounds coming your way,” a Marine said hurriedly.

Another Marine added, “Oh shit. Here comes one of the—”

The four Marines at the door stood as stock-still as mannequins.

A figure was coming through the darkness from inside. It was a woman. A tall, naked woman with her lips sewn shut. Tresses of long black hair fell down her back. She made the doorway and put a hand on each of the men in turn. When she touched them, they fell, immediately falling into a seizure, their entire bodies shaking and jerking.

Then she pointed toward the shrubbery. Ian watched as all eleven remaining men jerked straight as if invisible strings attached to their limbs had been pulled tight. Then she pointed toward the thicket.

“Magerts, report,” ordered Ian.

Nothing.

His amulet felt warm beneath his shirt, but he was still able to move. He sheathed his sword, snatched up a rifle, and took aim. He locked on her face and fired six times. She fell backwards and then went down.

His men immediately relaxed their poses and began to whisper among one another.

“Quiet,” he reassured them.

The four men at the door had stopped seizing and began to get up.

First two hounds, then one naked possessed girl. They were being underestimated. It was only a matter of time before they’d realize it and attack.

But for now, he had to prepare for more hounds.

Even as he thought it, they attacked.