Dark Portal 1/Dark Portal 1.adf/TEXT/Ruby

Text File | 1992-09-02 | 16.2 KB | 288 lines

@"RUBY" By Andrew Campbell 1993


 Chariots of folk, they are, Buses. Teemin' with the likes of people
you wouldn't ever of believed existed, young Samuel.
 Eye, my boy, I've met people who would make your skin crawl; men and
women without proper faces, strange little dwarfs that mutter to
themselves about dragons and princesses and all manner a weirdos.
 But there was one particularly frightening time when a dog started
regularly boardin' the bus I was usin'.
 Oh, don't get me wrong, this was no ordinary dog, Samuel, but a dog
almost as big as mother pig, certainly as clever as a man. Red eyes,
it had when you gave it the stare, red as rubies and they sparkled
too, and it's fur was a glossy black-
 What Samuel?
 Oh, I dunno what breed. Strange, when I come to think of it, I know
quite a bit about animals, cos my dad was a vet. Musta been a cross-
breed or somethin'. Looked like a Doberman with a long tail.
 Anyway, it knew when to get on the bus and when to get off, you see.
An no matter how loud people yelled at it and pushed it and booted it
with their shoes, it wouldn't budge. Not one bleedin' inch, not until
it's stop came up, and after that, it'd trot away of it's own accord.
 But that weren't all.
 It was always carryin' this big, brown leather bag in it's jaws. Big
n' bulky. It wouldn't never let go a that bag, no matter what you did
to it. Touch the bag, Samuel, and you'd get this deep cracklin' growl
that sounded like rumblin' thunder, a growl that meant, "get the hell
off my bleedin' bag or I'll kill you" - in dog-language of course.
 No one ardly commented on the dog or the bag it was carryin', but
still, you don't talk much on a bus, not unless you're with mates, or
if the person sittin' next to you 'appens to be a yapper.
 I dunno whether anyone noticed apart from your old Grandad, but that
dog wasn't anywhere to be seen durin' the daytime. Turn six o'clock,
when the sky was black, the old bugger'd be bus hoppin'.
 Anyway, one evenin', when I wasn't feelin' too pooped, I got off the
bus when Ruby did (yup, "Ruby" I decided to call the mutt, cos of the
bugger's glowin' eyes, remember?) and I followed it (actually, 'it'
was a HE, and you couldn't arf tell, that dog had a dangler like a
bleedin' burnt sausage, if you'll pardon me Samuel, and don't tell
your mother said that).
 So I followed HIM then, Ruby the dog, all the way through this kinda
weird bit of town, where all the buildin's seemed empty and derelict
and there was hardly any people.
 Trottin' along, nice and smart, head high, bag-in-jaws, he certainly
knew where he was goin' and no mistake. He was a bugger to track
though, cos his fur was jet dark and he kinda sank into the shadows.
 All of a sudden, he shot off down a back street between a coupla
windowless old retail stores. I was quick (cos I was young in those
days Samuel), and I managed to keep up with im.
 I ain't ever been in a place as dark as that alley, my boy. Black as
the deepest bits of a coal mine, it was, and not even the moon was out
to aid my eyes.
 All I could hear was this patterin' noise; Ruby's paws - his foot-
steps, I suppose you could say - and they was fadin' pretty quickly.
Me, I had shoes on, and when walked, my feet echoed like bombs down
an aluminium toilet.
 Bugger this, I thought, and turned around to go back out. That's when
I noticed Ruby's paws had stopped clippin' the floor, and that there
was somethin' else, another noise audible, not fadin' out, but comin'
in... gettin' louder.
 Big feet, they sounded like, not paws. Real slow and dull.
# BOOM... BOOM... BOOM...
 It sounded like some crazy fool was poundin' on a drum down there.
 Then, I saw a coupla glowin' red circles in the blackness. They
looked kinda like those L.E.D thingies you get on electricals these
days. I stared at em for a bit, watchin' em get bigger n' closer, and
then, all of a sudden, they blinked at me.
 My jaw flopped open with sheer fright, and I turned and legged it
outa that snicket faster than a jaguar with a firework up it's arse.
 That night I spent hours thinkin' about those red circles.
 Eyes, they were of course, I think you've figured that out young
Samuel, haven't you?
 Pardon?
 It is a frightening tale, yes my boy. But it's true, I swear on my
mother's grave I ain't spinnin' you a yarn. It's all to do with the
bag in that dog's mouth, Samuel, as you'll realise in a moment.
 Now where was I? Ah yes, the nightmares. Chillin' they were, those
boomin' feet when I thought about them in bed, but it was those eyes
that ate me the most. I'd wake up sweatin' like a horse, and I'd be
seein' red, lizard-like eyes beamin' at me from the roof, or from out
the window.
 I got pretty scared of Ruby. Terrified, I reckon is more like it.
 Next evenin' when I was on the bus, I sat down in the seat nearest
the door and started lookin' outa the dark windows for the bugger.
Every time the driver passed a stop, I was thankin' Jesus for lookin'
after me.
 Just when I thought nobody was usin' the buses except me that night,
the bleedin' vehicle comes to a jerky halt and on steps this old woman
in a big fur coat.
 "Oh what a chilly night," she says to the driver, in one a those posh
English accents that drives you up-an-over the bleedin' wall. "Black
Hill please... how much will that be? So much? Oh dear..."
 And whilst she's fartin' around in her purse, old Ruby crawls aboard
the bus, quiet as a mouse, same leather bag in his gob.
 Believe me Samuel, I went as stiff as a pint of Vodka. Those red eyes
engaged mine, those lips curled and he showed me the biggest teeth
I've ever seen in my bleedin' life.
 Eye, he was cross with me alright.
 I heard him growl and that was it. I was up outa my seat and for the
stairs to the top deck. I knew it was a dead end, but I reckoned Ruby
wouldn't have the brains to scramble after me, not with that precious
bag of his jammed in his teeth.
 Only I was wrong, of course, cos the bugger came for me like a wolf
huntin' a deer. I wasn't carryin' nothin', but I had on this whopper of
a raincoat, and it got caught on somethin' just before I got to the top
of the stairs. I looked back, cursin' the blasted thing, and then a
scream froze in my throat, heavy and cold, like a block of ice.
 It was Ruby, no bag in his mouth anymore. His jaws had a hold of my
coat and he was staggerin' up the bleedin' stairs. Clingin' on to me,
he was. Those teeth, Samuel, were as sharp as razor blades. They tore
the back offa my coat, which was terrifyin' enough, but then they sank
into my ankle, same way a warm knife'll slide into a slab of butter.
 I kicked n' squirmed around, and tried to yell out to the bus driver,
but the only sound I could make was this kinda weird garglin' noise. I
knew if I didn't get that killer hound offa my foot, I was gonna be
torn apart right then n' there on the steps.
 Just then the bleedin' bus set off with one mother of a jerk, and
Ruby's back legs slipped off the steps. He made this howlin' noise and
tumbled away, a mouthful of my flesh in his gob.
 Even though I was pretty much in agony, I managed to crawl up onto the
deserted top deck and limp across to the back seat by hangin' on to
the rails.
 I'd almost recovered from shock, when I heard Ruby's paws clickin' up
the stairs after me.
 I swung around, totterin' about cos the bus was travellin' at a decent
speed, and saw the evil bugger just parkin' his arse in the aisle. He'd
brought his leather bag with him, and he'd put it down real gently onto
the floor.
 The end of it slipped open just a fraction.
 And God have mercy, a tiny, human hand slid out.
 Well Samuel, old Grandad wet himself right there on the spot. I looked
at Ruby with a kinda soul-burin' hate. All around that dog's mouth was
blood and flesh and skin, and all of it was offa my own ankle. All
down the aisle was this trail of dark crimson, and it ended in a big,
sticky pool beneath my feet.
 Old Ruby growled again. He coulda leaped on me at any moment, I knew
that, and I woulda been minced mutt meat.
 But he didn't even prepare to make a kill.
 His ears kinda pricked up as high as they would go, and he rose onto
his back legs, like he was beggin' for scraps or somethin'.
 That was when I saw the red n' white striped umbrella on the seat next
to me. A gift from God, I thought, although why He couldn'ta just given
me a machine gun, I'll never know.
 Whilst Ruby was being weird and lookin' up at the ceilin', I reached
for the umbrella. Hell knows what that mutt was doin', but he didn't
try and stop me.
 My fingers closed around the handle, and I lifted it slowly into my
arms. All fastened up, that umbrella was, hardly the divine weapon I
woulda asked for, but it was better than nothin'.
 I was about to ram the bleedin' thing through Ruby's exposed belly,
when he flopped back down again and snarled. That bugger was grinnin'
at me, as though he had just gotten the permission offa his master to
go right ahead and tear my balls off, which I suppose coulda been the
truth Samuel, as you'll see in a moment.
 His back end sprung up as though it were a seperate entity, then his
worm of a tail set off waggin' like a windscreen wiper.
 The bugger leaped right for my head, and if I hadn'ta had that
umbrella held high n' ready, I wouldn't be here today tellin' you this,
story, Samuel. He was meanin' to tear my face off, I knew it. I'd
followed him, you see, and I'd almost found out his little secret.
 And he couldn't have that, could he?
 I had the umbrella to one side, ready to stab him, and when he leaped,
I swung my arm inwards. It wasn't bad timin', considerin' I managed to
jam the umbrella between two of his ribs.
 Ruby yelped real loud and fell away quickly, as though he'd not
expected me to be able to fight back.
 I stood there, pantin' and watchin' him try and lick the hole in his
side, but he had a terrible problem reachin' it, same way as we humans
can't seem to wash our own backs properly when we're in the tub.
 He decided the best thing to do was take it all out on me again, which
was the biggest mistake he ever made.
 When he made his second lunge, I crouched and jabbed forwards with my
striped umbrella. I felt the end of it sink right down his throat,
tearin' flesh as it went. It was so horribly easy, Samuel, it scared
me. The dog was kind of impaling himself, do you see what I mean? He'd
literally run into the umbrella.
 When it was all in his gob, right down to the handle, everythin'
seemed to stop. There was no breathin', no growlin' or pantin', just a
terrified man starin' into a mad dog's eyes.
 Then, I realised I had the chance to finish him, once and for all. I
slid my fingers down the metal rod of the umbrella and found the catch.
 I fired it open.
 Ruby shook spasmodically, blood pourin' out of his nostrils, then
turned heavy and sank to the floor, the umbrella stickin' out of his
mouth like a giant, silver cigar with a crooked end.
 I managed to get back downstairs in time for Ruby's usual stop. The
posh woman went bleedin' hysteric; she saw the gory mess that had once
been my foot and put her hand over her mouth, then she made this sort
of high-pitched whistlin' sound.
 When the bus halted, the driver saw me, but by then I was in no mood
to talk about the weather and the price of booz. I told him he had a
dead dog up on the top deck, then I was gone, outa the doors, into the
night, takin' Ruby's abandoned bag and the divine, blood-soaked
umbrella with me.
 There was a dead baby in the bag, Samuel. Tiniest thing I ever saw.
I was literally holdin' some poor mother's ruined life in my hands.
 But that wasn't the worst of it.
 I realised Ruby musta been carryin' dead babies every trip he made.
Each time I'd looked at that leather bag he'd been holdin' in those
lethal jaws a his, I'd been lookin' at a stolen human life.
 I dunno where he'd got em from, but I had tears pourin' down my
cheeks when I got to the alleyway where the dog'd vanished the
previous night. There was an anger inside me, like nothin' I'd ever
felt before.
 I limped into the blackness, ready to create havoc, and almost
straight away, I saw those red circles again, and heard those eerie
footsteps comin'.
# BOOM... BOOM... BOOM...
 But instead of boltin' for it, I kept on goin', propelled by nothin'
other than sheer rage. I was holdin' the leather bag in one hand, close
to me, close to my heart, and the dripping umbrella in the other.
 When the eyes were enormous and the footsteps terribly loud, I felt
the cold presence of something huge and powerful, and most definitely
inhuman.
 Those eyes were not parallel to mine, but metres above me, like two
gigantic, closely-positioned traffic lights. They contained black,
ellipse-shaped pupils, each one angled toward me.
 "I killed your filthy dog!" I screamed, my voice echoing into the
darkness. "I killed it, you murderin' bitch!"
 The light from those glowin' eyes suggested small curves around the
creature's face. I could distinguish the root of a thick nose, and lots
of warts and boils on it's lower forehead.
 "Give me the infant." it said, in a voice that would have losened the
bowels of even Conan the bleedin' Barbarian. It was a female, whatever
kind of creature it was, because there was no way it's voice was
masculin.
 I could sense that if I didn't hand over the bag, I was going to spark
up a serious argument that would undoubtedly entail very destructive
results.
 I don't think I'd been considerin' what she'd said for more than
three seconds, but it musta been too long. There was another footstep,
louder than ever, and an artic draft that seemed to chill not just my
skin, but my very soul too.
 Then, almost without any control of myself, I held up the umbrella and
shouted at the toppa my bleedin' voice:
 "I won't let you take anymore lives!"
 And that did make those eyes go wide. There were more footsteps, only
this time they got fainter, not louder.
 I looked at the folded umbrella quizzically.
# Was it really a gift from God?
 "Let us trade," said the Creature, less loudly. "I can offer you
immortal powers. Riches beyond your wildest dreams. Everlasting life."
 "Why kill babies?!" I yelled at her.
 And this she-demon thingamy said, "They are not dead. I trade their
souls. An innocent child in the Underworld is worth more than you
could ever dream of, mortal."
 I didn't understand, but I lowered the unbrella and held up the bag.
 "Take it!" I demanded.
 The Creature just stared at me.
 "Come on! Take it!" I bellowed furiously, spit flyin' outa my gob.
 Then there was a bit of movement. A whisper a coldness. The sound of
gigantic, bare feet easing gently onto concrete. Claws grindin'. Big
fists openin' and closin'.
 I weakened my grip on the bag.
 The Creature came close enough for me to clearly see her monstrous
face. She was like a failed genetic experiment; peeling flesh,
pulsating membranes, tusk-like fangs. She had the biggest breasts I've
ever seen, save for your grandma's, (but don't say a word, Samuel!).
Red as blood they were, stuffed with veins, and had nipples as big as
margarine tubs.
 A livin', breathin', demonic mother, she was.
 But not for long.
 I dropped the bag, leaned back with the umbrella, holding it like a
javlin, then launched it through the air with all my strength. The
Creature screamed and held up her arms - both the thickness of English
Oaks - against her face, as though she'd been hit by a blindin' light.
 But the umbrella found a gap between em, and then there was an ear-
splittin' howl like nothin' on Earth. Her arms fell away, and there
was my sacred umbrella, lodged in her right eye socket.
 I fell on my knees and covered my ears up with my hands, all too aware
of the shrieking, giant bitch becoming a ball of white-hot fire.
 An explosion blasted me out of the alley like a pinball, across the
pavement and into the road. I landed on my arm, broke it, and then
everythin' went black.
 I don't know how long I was out, Samuel, but when I came to, the fire
and the Creature had gone. Smoke was coming from the alley, thick and
grey, like the stuff that pours outa mills n' factories.
 A coupla people were headin' my way, some of em were callin' out to
me, askin' me what the hell had happened and if I was alright. There
was a car comin' as well, but it stopped, just far enough to catch the
evil smoke in it's headlights.
 There was a kind of wailin' noise still going on. Only faint, but it
was there, no question about it.
 Babies cryin', it was, that noise.
 A whole dark alleyway full of em.
 Frightened, choked, naked, but alive.