The Black Tattoo (45 page)

Thick coils of muscle dropped around him and tightened.

Jack struggled, but he couldn't move:
 
his arms were crushing against his ribs, and one of Shargle's unspeakable heads was looming toward him, eyes glinting gray-blue in the dark.

"Hello, fresh meat," said the worm, grinning delightedly.
 
"Remember me?"

"Of course I remember you, Shargle," said Jack, with exasperated effort.
 
"But what the Hell do you want?"

"I'll tell you what I want," said Shargle, leaning closer.
 
"I want to see your insides.
 
Yes!
 
Your nasty little innards, squeezing out of you!
 
Fresh meat, you owe me a death!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You were promised to us!" whined Shargle's other head, rearing out of the darkness to Jack's left.
 
"You're ours!
 
It said so on the coin!"

"So?"

"Everyone's so mean to Shargle," said the first head, pouting.

"Name-calling!" said the second.

"Hitting us!"

"Tying us together!"
 
The heads looked at each other, shuddered in sympathy, then smiled.
 
"But now," both of them chorused, "now, at last,
Shargle
can be mean to
you!
"

Heaven's sake
, thought Jack.
 
"Shargle," he began, "this really isn't a good time—"

"For us," announced Shargle's first head, "any time is a good time."

"But the universe is about to end!" Jack gasped, doing his best.
 
"The Dragon is about to wake up!"

For a moment, all four of Shargle's eyes widened in surprise — then scowled.

"The Dragon," one head snorted.
 
"
That
old story!"

"No one believes in the Dragon anymore!"

"Now beg us for mercy!"

"Yes, beg."
 
The worm's coils wrenched tighter.

"Whine!
 
Cringe!
 
Squeal!"

And now Jack could feel his bones grinding together.
 
Great gouting blue fireworks were going off behind his eyeballs; his head felt ominously tight, like a tube of toothpaste being squeezed without the cap being taken off, and when he tried to breathe all there was was the nauseating stench of the worm.
 
As Shargle's heads leaned toward him, the revolting wet brown holes of his mouths opening wider and wider, Jack's vision seemed to shrink down until he could see nothing else, but then...

Then, suddenly, there was a burst of light, and a thunderous, echoing voice said,

CITIZENS OF HELL, YOU ATTENTION PLEASE:
 
THIS IS OVERMINISTER GUKUMAT.
 
YOU ARE SUMMONED, ONE AND ALL, TO AN ANCIENT CEREMONY.
 
PREPARE FOR TRANSPORTATION, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU, IN THREE—

There was a rising hum in the air:
 
jelly stuff winked into being and began, instantly, to spread.

TWO
, boomed the voice.

"EEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAGHlllp!"
 
Shargle shrieked out his frustration from both of his heads but was abruptly cut off as the shimmering substance swallowed him.

ONE
.

The jelly stuff stiffened, went thick.

And for a moment, everything was black.

*
       
*
       
*
       
*
       
*

Shargle and Jack had been transported together:
 
Jack was still wrapped in the worm's coils.
 
Shargle's grip had loosened — a little, not much — but the weird thing was that Jack couldn't feel the ground.
 
He seemed to be floating.

"Where are we?"
 
Jack managed.
 
"What's happened?"

"Jack?" said a voice with a French accent he recognized.
 
"Jack?
 
It is you?"

"Number Three!" said Jack.
 
"Where are you?
 
Oh,
Shargle
," he added, struggling in the dark, "for God's sake, why can't you just get off me?"

"No!" squeaked Shargle nervously.
 
"Shan't!
 
No!
 
Fresh meat can just—"

ATTENTION, SCUM OF THE GLADIATOR PITS!

Everyone fell silent.

You are here
, said the voice,
not because we wish it but because the ritual demands that all demons in Hell be witness to the Dragon's awakening.
 
You should see your presence here for what it is — an unspeakable honor for ones such as yourselves — and act accordingly.

"Arse," belched another familiar voice.

You have been brought into the presence of the most holy and omnipotent DRAGON
, Gukumat went on.
 
The Eater of Worlds:
 
Alpha and Omega — the Creator and Destroyer of All.
 
Look on your god, you supplicant scum.
 
Look on your god and TREMBLE!

"Gah!" said Jack — and everyone else — as the darkness suddenly flooded with light.
 
Jacks' seared retinas took several moments to adjust.
 
But the next thing he said was, "Whoa."
 
The word didn't cover it.
 
No words did.
 
So for a while, Jack just stared.

Jack and Shargle were being held in a bubblelike field of what was, presumably, magic of some kind.
 
As well as Jack and the worm, the bubble was big enough to hold all four Sons of the Scorpion Flail and a large pulsating blob that Jack was able to recognize — to his surprise — as Jagmat.
 
Jagmat, Jack, Shargle, Number 3, Number 2, Number 9 and Number 12 were all floating around in the bubble like snow in a recently shaken snow globe.
 
The Sons looked scared.
 
They had a right to be.
 
But Jack wasn't paying any attention to his companions.
 
The surface of the strange magical bubble thing that was now imprisoning them was transparent:
 
Jack was looking out of the bubble at what was beyond.

He gaped.

The bubble was suspended from the ceiling of a gigantic red chamber — so big that Jack wasn't even sure it qualified as a single room.
 
Other bubbles just like it, containing various numbers of unhappy gladiators, were strung around the ceiling in a vast, necklacelike ring.

Waiting below them, on the floor of the chamber, was what had to be every single demon in Hell.
 
The entire demon population was laid out below Jack in a huge, dark, crawling circle.
 
There were creatures down there that defied description.
 
But he wasn't looking at these either.

In the center of the chamber was an enormous plateau, made out of the same bulging fleshy red stuff as the ceiling and floor.
 
All across it stood a mass of identical white-robed figures.
 
And in the center of that — at the center of everything — were two who Jack knew well:
 
Charlie, seated on a throne of meat, and the Scourge, standing beside him.

DEMONS OF HELL!
Boomed Gukumat's multitudinous voice.
 
This is a day that has been long in coming!
 
Only once before, since the beginning of Creation — only once, since the most holy Dragon first fell into its ancient slumber — has the whole mass of our people been gathered together as we are in this moment.
 
And WHAT A SIGHT WE ARE!

The gladiators' bubbles actually shuddered in the air at this; the giant chamber rang with the sound as all the demons on the ground roared their approval.

SINCE TIME BEGAN, IT IS WE WHO HAVE HAD POWER IN THE UNIVERSE!

The crowd was in ecstasy.

IT IS FOR US THAT THE PLANETS TREMBLE IN THEIR ORBITS!

Delirium.
 
Pandemonium.

AND IT IS WE,
said Gukumat,
BY DIVINE RIGHT, WHO WILL BRING ALL CREATION TO AN END!

Strangely, on this line, the riotous applause from Hell's assembled population seemed to die down a little.

"Jack?" asked Number 2 suddenly.
 
His face was pale, his eyes were bright, and his voice was high and tight sounding.
 
"Could you possibly tell us what's going on out there, please?"

"Quiet," said Jack.

For too long,
Gukumat went on,
the universe has been allowed to continue, filling the Great Darkness with it chatter and its noise.
 
For too long we, the true guardians of Creation, have allowed it to wallow in its trivial and pointless pursuits.
 
My brothers,
said the voice,
it is time to bring history to a close.
 
It is time to awaken the Great Swallower and let darkness reign supreme once more!
 
It is TIME,
the voice screamed, reaching a pitch of feverish intensity,
FOR A RETURN TO THE PURITY OF THE VOID!

On uttering this, Gukumat raised every single one of his sticklike arms, ready to greet the rapturous thunder of acclaim that the Overminister was naturally expecting.

He didn’t get it.
 
Instead, the vast crowd murmured and blustered in confusion.

Gukumat's thousands of hands dropped to his thousands of sides.
 
His thousands of shining robes flashed white as he turned his backs on the crowd — and bowed once, inward, low.

My demon brethren
, he said,
there is one here who will explain what you are about to witness much better than I ever could.
 
It is, therefore, my peculiar honor to present to you your one true Emperor.
 
The Voice of the Void, whose breath is the wind and whose rage makes all worlds tremble.
 
The Lord of Crossing-Places, King of All Tears, and the Suzerain Absolute of the Dominions of Hell.
 
Demons, I give you—

"Get on with it!" belched Jagmat.

—KHENTIMENTU THE SCOURGE!!!

Breaking scuffles on the ground suddenly became good-size riots:
 
the crowds of demons were jostling for position trying to get a look at what was going on.

Helpless, Jack just watched.

*
       
*
       
*
       
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*

"But what about me?" whined Charlie suddenly.

The Scourge had been just about to speak.
 
Now, distracted, it turned to look at the boy on the red throne.
 
Charlie was scowling and tugging, weakly but insistently, at the demon's liquid-black arm.

"Hey!" said Charlie.
 
"Aren't you listening?
 
What about
me?
 
I mean — I'm going to be the Emperor, right?
 
Not you."

"
We're coming to you, Charlie
," said the Scourge soothingly.
 
"
In fact, I was just about to mention you
."

"No tricks," said Charlie.
 
"
I'm
going to be Emperor.
 
I am!
 
Right?
 
You promised."

"
Indeed I did, Charlie
," said the Scourge, resting a cool, liquid hand on the boy's cheek.
 
"
Indeed I did
."

Charlie felt a soft pressure in his brain — a pushing sensation so slight that he barely noticed it.

And instantly his ears rang with an echoing storm of noise.

It was the crowd!

And they were chanting something!
 
A rhythmic chant, two simple syllables, making the vast room reverberate as they repeated them again and again.
 
What were they saying?
 
It was hard to make it out.
 
It wasn't — was it?
 
Yes!

CHAR-LEE! they roared.
 
CHAR-LEE!
 
CHAR-LEE!
 
CHAR-LEE!

"
Your true Emperor, who will lead all Hell into a new era of peace and prosperity
!" said the Scourge, the chant already collapsing into a surge of delirious noise.
 
"
CHARLIE FARNSWORTH
!"

And the crowd went wild!

Charlie smiled, tears coming to his eyes and running down his face.
 
He raised an arm, acknowledging the wave of respect, admiration, and, yes, love that was coming at him then, a wave that threatened to lift him up and sweep him away on a tide of unspeakable happiness.
 
They loved him!
 
They really loved him!
 
And what was even better, of course, the best thing of all, was that they'd always love him — forever and ever!
 
Unlike, say, his dad for instance (he grimaced), the demons would never leave or decide they preferred someone else.
 
They would never get tired or fed up or sad or change in any way whatsoever:
 
they would love him unconditionally, forever.
 
And Charlie and the demons would be happy together!
 
Safe and happy until the end of time!
 
Safe and happy and—

The Scourge looked at the boy on the throne.
 
Charlie's eyes were open, but they were glazed, their attention turned inward, lost in the trivial yet apparently necessary delusion that had taken perhaps two seconds to construct and position in the child's primitive mind.

You don't deserve the universe
, thought the Scourge, disgusted.
 
None of you do
.