The Conductor.Hangman's Jury

HANGMAN’S JURY

Wake up, my child. Come to me. I’ve something to show you...something for you. His voice came to me out of space, obliterating the dreamscape.

I awoke half way, groggy, with a head full of sore mud. Thick leather beneath my cheek and twilit darkness around me. Cruel shadows stood out in moonlight blue before me. Lying face down on Damian’s couch in his office, I slowly pushed myself up, feeling the remnants of booze and a destructive day wrack my body and head. I rubbed my eyes like a child and blinked at the surroundings. The office was dark, the furniture and all of his things appearing spooky in the street lights that shone in through the blinds. I wondered why I would dream such terrorizing things and words sitting there.

My mind flashed. The world on fire. Twin coal eyes. My grandfather and Death. I winced and shut my eyes. I held my head tenderly and groaned in my misery.

Jess… I heard Damian’s voice in my head, slithery and smooth, not too loud, just right. Come here. Now.

My hands slipped from my face, pulling my skin down momentarily and I looked at the open door beside the couch. I felt pulled. I stood up, unsteady and woozy, and stumbled through it. Holding myself up with one hand against the latex painted wall, so cool to the touch, I drug myself down the hall and outside.

The school was black, eerily quiet and empty. The buildings, awnings and structures appeared misshapen and monstrous. A cemetery at night to the easily spooked. And in my own sickness, I felt like a ghost haunting these foul grounds. Nothing looked right. I looked around, at each yawning building, confused.

English Lit. my star. Come here. He coaxed and I fell forward slightly to the tug of his words.

The middle building, second floor, the maw of the monster.

I walked like the dead raised by the Baron Samedi himself, faltering terribly with pain as I moved. Stepping across the quad to the building my English class was in, I grabbed onto the wall and slid along it to the stairwell. Hand over hand, lame foot over lame foot, I made my way up the stairs, my uneven and stumbling steps echoing against the concrete walls.

The second floor spun when I reached the top stair and I tripped to my knees. I wanted to vomit but couldn’t make myself. My stomach roiled and waned. I wanted to go back to sleep I felt so sick.

Almost there. Come here, to me. I will make it all better. Just come to me.

I nodded. I picked myself up and guided myself by touch down the hall, towards the only open door. Finally, I stopped in the doorway of my English Lit classroom, bracing myself against the doorframe with sweat-damp hands.

In the long rectangular box of moonlight that spilled into the room from behind me, casting my hunched and troublesome figure on the floor, Damian sat perfectly. In the office chair at the teacher’s desk, the heels of his Black Mamba boots kicked up on the top, he sat facing me, glowing. His eyes opened, blindingly cold and bright, and looked upon me gently. The edges of his thin mouth slipped upward. An exasperated and exhausted breath of relief exploded from my wet lips at the mere sight of him and I grinned back stupidly.

“How are you feeling, my dearest?” He asked me softly, fingers tented before his chin.

I gasped and leaned on my shoulder. I put my hand to my forehead and squeezed my eyes shut. “A little strange,” I murmured and tried to shake the cobwebs from my mind. “Like a burning negative. Or something”

“Still a bit sick from the vodka? You shouldn’t mix your drinks like that, Jess. Come here.” He patted his thigh and smiled more.

I looked at him again, feeling like a scratchy record, unclear. The edges of my sight felt blurry, like looking through rock salt. He held his hand out to me then slowly, unfurling his arm, hand and fingers so divinely. I reached lamely towards his fingers and stepped forward to go to him. The need to be closer to him overpowering all. I managed to make it to the desk before falling again, grabbing onto his legs desperately. On my knees before him, I looked up helplessly.

His outstretched hand caressed my head and wounded brow and temple. The nausea faded away, the dizziness with it. Things grew clearer. I relaxed and breathed easier.

“Better now?” He asked me and I nodded. “Did you miss me?” I nodded without a second thought. “I have a gift for you tonight, do you know that?” I raised my brows at him curiously.

He put his boots on the floor and leaned over to me, holding my chin. He grinned all teeth and wide eyes at me. I scooted closer in anticipation. He slowly pressed his lips to my forehead for a long moment and I felt perfect and loved. I smiled at the floor between his knees.

The office chairs metal base looked familiar. My head clear again, I realized where we were and my brow furrowed beneath his kiss. He noticed but didn’t move away, simply awaited my question.

“Where are we, Damian?” I asked for confirmation.

He sat back and stared at me a beat. “Mahler’s room.”

I raised a brow at him. “Why?”

“I always keep my promises, my star.” He smiled demonically around his words.

His eyes darted to his right and his head followed. I carefully moved, arching my neck around the desk to see what it was. Then I stood and stared, not quite comprehending what I saw.

The chairs and desks were cleared away from the middle of the room, back against the walls. Only one chair remained in the darkness with a figure standing nervously atop it. It was a man, by the build of him, and his wrists and ankles were bound together. I squinted at the writhing back of the man, the damp hair against his skull. He made little noises, struggling pitiful noises, distressed animal noises.

I looked to Damian in uncertainty. He nodded towards the man. I stepped carefully towards the figure, watching him wobble atop the chair.

“My gift to you. Deliverance. Vengeance.” Damian leaned his elbows on the desk and watched me circle the person.

Slowly coming around to the front of the man, Damian’s personage behind him in my sight, I looked up at the face. The man had been beaten badly and his face was swollen and bloodied. His mouth was gagged with grey tape. There was a shock of white hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and the brow twitched as the eyes looked at me.

“Mahler?” I whispered hoarsely.

“Hmm!” Mahler jerked and nearly fell from the chair, his body jolting oddly.

It was then that I saw the thick noose around his neck, the taut length above him feeding up through a hole cut in the ceiling and wrapped tightly around an I-beam. Mahler caught his minute balance and whined pleadingly at me.

I looked to Damian in shock. “What?” I couldn’t understand. “What have you done?”

He blinked slowly. “I’ve strung up Mahler for you.” He stated.

“What? Why?!” I asked incredulously.

Damian’s smile faded and his face grew dark. I felt the mood in the room grow sickly disappointed and dire. My jaw muscles quivered and my head shook negatively at him, realizing what I might‘ve incurred. He stood  and approached me like an angry king approaching a loathsome subject. I began to back away.

Stop. His voice in my head was enough to startle me to stillness, easily. My knees felt unsteady with fright. He came close in the darkness, eyes and skin glowing, and circled me slowly. I heard him sniff and breathe at my head, neck and shoulders, intimidating me as he paced. I shivered and watched his figure obscure over my shoulder. Jesus Christ, I thought, what have I done?

“That’s not doubt I smell on you, is it? Jess?” He stood directly behind me and spoke into my ear coldly. “That’s not mistrust, is it? You’re not…” Suddenly, his hands grabbed my shoulders and yanked me back against his chest roughly. I gasped, tensing, staring frightfully up at Mahler’s wet puffy face. I felt Damian’s teeth against my ear, his breath hissing out. “After all I’ve done for you, you’re not trying to pull away from me now, are you, Jess?”

Terrified, I shook my head, no, unable to speak.

“Good.” He growled through teeth and his arms snaked themselves around me tightly. “Because I don’t know,” his left hand slipped up and around my throat, “I just don’t know what I’d do if you were.”

I swallowed air and grabbed his wrist to stop him. “But, Damian. You can’t just hang Mahler.” I tried to reason.

He laughed. “That’s just it! Yes, my darling, I can just hang Mahler.” He threw an arm out at the man and Mahler flinched. “This man is a sinner. He struck a child. He hurt you. By my means, that is the worst thing he could‘ve ever done. A thing punishable by death and eternal damnation.” The backs of his fingers came and caressed the side of my face. “But trust me, there’s several other horrible things this asshole has done to deserve such a fate. But this was his final mistake. He damned himself. Now, I’m just bringing it to fruition a little sooner than expected.”

“Wh-What?” I had no voice now. I could hear the growl of a whole other being, some kind of demon, in Damian’s throat as he spoke and it petrified me.

He squeezed me tightly and laughed. “Come now! Haven’t you guessed me yet?” He spun me round to face him, his hands tightly gripping my shoulders to keep me from getting away. He looked wild and crazed, long shadows on his face making him appear utterly sinister. “You even said it yourself! I’m the Devil, my dear child!”

I stared at him, into his eyes, seeing burning land and red skies. “Th-that was a joke.” I admitted though absently.

It amused him and he brought his hand up to cup my cheek. I flinched violently and he grabbed my jaw in response.

“Damian!” I yelped, watching his eyes flash.

He sneered at me momentarily before becoming calm and gentle again. “Sh, hush, child. Come here.” He whispered and slid his fingers over my shaking jaw. “Aw, you’re frightened of me. It’s alright. You should be. My precious jewel, I am the Devil.” He stood straight, holding me with one arm, and slowly bending at his waist; he was bowing to me. “Damian Diablon, Lord of Hell, humbly at your every beck and call, dearest child.”

As he straightened he looked down on me with that unsavory but intoxicating expression of self-righteousness. My beck and call? “I fear that’s the other way around, Damian.” My voice shaking, I held my breath.

His brow twitched in recognition of that truth. “Maybe. But it’s true. Everything I have done, I’ve done it all entirely for you. I’ve destroyed lives, lifted burdens, punished the tyrannous. For you.” He touched the tip of his index finger to my nose cutely, then dragged all tips of his fingers down the front of my face in a disturbingly possessive way. “I’ve done everything for you, Jess. So that you would be mine.” His smile had turned into a lustful grimace.

“My soul?” I squeaked as he leaned over me.

He nodded slowly as his long nose touched mine. “Hmm, and more. You are very, very special to me. I love you as I love all my children. But you have come to stand out for me. You’re a difference engine in a world of dull drones. A soul like an atom bomb. You can be a very powerful and deadly force, I should think, the way your path in life has wound about. And it’s touched me, deeply. I’d like you for my own, I think. You would stand at my right hand, just like I stood at God’s right hand, once upon a time. I’ll give you all that you want. All I want from you, my most prized gem, is your soul.”

He drew breath in gently over my lips and kissed me slowly, deeply. So deeply in fact I about fainted in his arms. I felt my mind and body rush to his mouth as his kiss practically swallowed me whole.

Mahler whined and struggled on his chair, against his binds, and I watched Damian’s eyes open and glare at him. Mahler stopped but his simpering didn’t. Damian’s kiss pulled away from me.

“Say yes,” he spoke over my mouth. “Say yes, and Mahler hangs. Say yes, and I’ll give you the world in an oyster shell. Say yes, and stand at my right hand. Say yes, and I will be yours as you will be mine, forever.” He said, his eyes drifting down to me. I love you, Jess.

My head swam and I felt fevered, his kiss intoxicating me. My hands were holding onto him so tightly, my knuckles were white. I tasted him in my mouth over and over and craved more. But that little voice that had told me to run once, it edged me. I swallowed hard, fearing what would come as I let it through.

“And if I say no?” It sounded like someone else, but I knew it was me, questioning the Devil and his devotion. I knew it was my soul asking. I shook, looking up at him.

He didn’t move, didn’t twitch, didn’t change expression. The cities still burned in his eyes. I worried at my lip and tasted blood mix together with the delicious savor left from his mouth. He wouldn’t answer though. He just stared back at me. I felt the question rise in my throat again.

“Damian? What if I say no? What will you do to me if I say no?” I asked clearly.

I thought he might become enraged and destroy me somehow, break me into a million pieces, eat me, something horrible for asking such a question. But his face just fell into a sorrowful grimace and he sighed. He leaned over and kissed me again, softly, his lips moving languidly against mine once. Then he put his lips back to my ear.

“I would be wholly devastated.” He whispered.

At saying that, he spun around, violently pulling away from me, and kicked the chair out from beneath Mahler. I fell back on my ass onto the floor and watched in horror as Mahler thrashed about in the air. I scrambled to get to my feet, to go try to help Mahler, but Damian’s hand grabbed a handful of my jacket and held me on my knees at his side.

I looked up, maybe pleadingly at Damian. He stood still, great, emanating pure powerful wrath as he watched Mahler’s body flail. I wanted to say something, do something but Damian’s hand jerked me slightly, demanding I stay put and silent.

Mahler’s struggle for breath and life itself was growing weak quickly, his face purple and his eyes bugged. I knelt there helpless beside the Devil, watching Mahler die. In my head, I began to apologize to him but Damian’s voice cut in as loud as war, he does not deserve pity!

Mahler stopped twitching after a few more minutes and then his body just swayed in the air, his bowels and bladder releasing, creating a rank odor and a puddle beneath him. I leaned away from the spill.

Damian’s hand released me then and I stood up, unable to tear my eyes away from Mahler’s dead swinging body. I shivered intensely with the beginnings of shock.

Damian was moving, pulling his leather gloves onto his hands, stepping into my line of sight. His eyes were on fire as he coldly looked down his nose at me.

“Damian?” My jaw quivered.

“This world is a very cold, ruthless place.” He murmured

“Damian? Please, don’t.” I whimpered, backing away from him, shaking my head. I didn’t know what he was doing, or what was going to happen, but his expression was enough to send me into total panic.

“It’s been a very long day. And now, my beloved star, I believe it is time for you,” he reached a leather gloved hand towards my face, “to go to sleep. Come.”

My back hit the wall and I jumped. “Damian? Please?” I cried quietly.

His leather fingers slid across my face and tangled into my hair. He pressed his body against mine. I shook my head furiously, pleading for mercy with my eyes. He looked so cold. He raked the fingers of his other hand down my face lightly in that disturbing possessive way.

“Sleep.” He commanded me both verbally and in my head, in the same growl.

My consciousness slipped quickly and the last thing I saw were his steel eyes glaring into mine as he bent over me.