Song of the Ivory Tree

The silhouette of the sun dipped below the horizon, hidden behind enormous dark clouds. Lightning struck in the distance, signaling the torrential rain to begin. The canter of the horses pulling the carriage slowed to a crawling pace, but the steeds held true. Curses of the driver forced to brave the elements were drowned by the chaotic pelting of rain.

           “Just our damn luck,” Jakeb said, taking a long draw of his rolled cigarette. The foul smell of tobacco and smoke filled the cabin, the open windows only a slight reprieve.

           “This rain won’t be the worst of it,” Renan said, peering out of the side door, looking upon the dreary prairie. The land was empty as far as the eye could see, but Renan knew what lurked in the dark.

           Jakeb took one last puff, savoring its poison before flicking the stub outside. His exhale was interrupted by a fit of chest-rattling coughs.

           “Don’t tell me you believe in those old wives’ tales. Oooo, I’m gonna eatcha,” Jakeb said, baring his yellowed teeth and raising his arms in jest.

           Renan stared into the man’s eyes, his face still as death. Jakeb gave a bored sigh and turned to watch the rain outside. Renan had faced those tales before, had the scars to prove it too. His fingers curled around the grip of his revolver in preparation, though he hoped he wouldn’t need it for this ride.

           “What the hell is in that crate anyways,” Jakeb asked.

           “Doesn’t matter, we deliver and get paid,” Renan said, laying his hand gently upon the cold metal of the crate.

           He knew well what was in there and was not in a hurry to let Jakeb know. The fine, sea-blue powder packed neatly in the box was a special brew. Extremely flammable and quite expensive, the powder was an effective ward against most any otherworldly assailant that dared rear its ugly maw. Renan had exhausted almost all his contacts to get this job, having tracked information on the substance for months. He didn’t know yet how it worked exactly, but he knew he had to follow its trail.

           The carriage came to a sudden halt, breaking Renan’s train of thought. Despite the clattering of the rain, he could hear muffled words of distress coming from the driver. Renan shot up from his seat and unlatched the roof hatch, more rain spilling into the cabin. As his torso emerged into the open, he felt a strange chill that ran through his bones.

           Charles was the carriage owner, a man of middle age and short stature. His usually dignified demeanor was replaced by a look of sheer panic as he stood atop his seat. Before Renan could even speak, Charles had flung himself from the cart.

           “Dammit Charles, don’t take one step off this road,” Renan yelled after him.

           It was as if Charles didn’t know Renan even existed as the man rose, covered from head to toe in black mud. Incoherent babbles spurted from his mouth as he sprinted as fast as his small legs could take him. The hair on Renan’s neck stood straight as a razor as he watched the man run onto the prairie, a strange feeling pressing on his head with every passing second.

           “Come back my friend, I was just getting started,” a distorted voice chuckled as an enormous claw swooped down from seemingly nowhere. Its knife-like nails, longer than even the tallest of men, impaled Charles and lifted him into the air.

           A body, black as pitch, materialized upon the prairie in an instant. Taking up almost the entirety of its presumed face was a wicked smile, filled with teeth as long and sharp as its nails. Eyes like flickering fire danced with perverted joy just beneath the hood of the cowl it wore. Gnarled branches of bone sprouted from the creature’s back, upon which scores of corpses hung limp in the rain.

           “Oh, I have the perfect idea!” it exclaimed, dramatically swinging its still-living victim through the air.

           Renan broke from his stupor as the creature disappeared for a moment, pushing himself atop the roof of the carriage. He clambered across the slippery metal and slid into the driver bench, taking hold of the reigns.

           “Jakeb, bring me the crate,” Renan shouted through the still open hatch and encouraged the horses to book it with a crack of the reigns.

           With a huff of curses and winded complaints, Jakeb hauled the small metal box to Renan and set it down with a thud.

           “Damn thing’s heavy,” Jakeb said through labored breaths, “the hell you need it for?”

           “Just take these for me,” Renan said as he handed the reigns of the reluctant horses to Jakeb.

           He kept a steady head, but his hands were shaking something awful.  Before Renan could grab the key to the box from his boot, the figure materialized out of thin air once again, appearing on the opposite side.

           “Done! Lovely, isn’t it?” that distorted voice sang, making Jakeb go pale as a ghost.

           Hung from one of the crimson-stained ivory branches was the upper half of Charles, his smile mirroring that of the shadowy creature. Gaping holes replaced where his eyes once sat, and the crude bisection left his hanging entrails to fly at the mercy of the wind. In his small hands were both of his own blood-soaked femur bones, with which he banged together in a steady rhythm.

           “Sing with me boys!” Charles cheered as he began belting “Oh the Rough Rider”, a drinking song known in every saloon. With every beat of the bones, blood splattered across his face and well-maintained mustache.

           Renan fumbled to open the box, his entire body now shaking as adrenaline pumped through every vein. Charles’s less-than-angelic voice continued to ring out as the key finally popped the lock. The well-oiled hinges sprung open to reveal no more than a handful of powder in a glass jar, sat snug between packing material.

           “For the love of God, get us out of here Jakeb!” Renan shouted as he grabbed the jar and heaved the crate overboard.

           Jakeb didn’t respond as his shaking arms pointed his repeater at the creature. His finger hovered over the trigger, but he seemed frozen in place. The wind took Jakeb’s hat away, leaving his dark hair drenched over his terrified expression.

           “Move your sorry hides you no good, inbred donkeys!” Renan yelled, placing two quick shots in the mud between the two horses. They both took the hint, one rearing on its hind legs before charging forward. Even beneath his sopping wet clothes, he could feel the gaze of the twisted being.

           Whether it was the crack of the gunshots or Renan’s rage, Jakeb finally snapped out of his state. Within a second, the cold bite of Jakeb’s repeater barrel was placed to Renan’s temple.

           “If that pitiful thing is worth all this trouble, then I’m taking it for myself you bastard,” Jakeb raved, spittle flying from his mouth.

           Renan moved faster than the troubled Jakeb, pushing aside the barrel. A shot rang from the rifle, the pain splitting through both ears. With one swift motion, Renan bashed Jakeb in the forehead with his revolver. The rifle fell from his grip, clattering against the metal before flying off the speeding carriage.

           With ragged breaths, Renan aimed his pistol at Jakeb, who was still reeling from the blow. As Jakeb lifted his face, those eyes of flame, devoid of anything human, stared back at him. Before he could pull the trigger, his wrist snapped, splintering his bones. A possessed Jakeb stood over him, trying to wrench the glass jar from his hands. Pain radiated through Renan, but he held as tight as he could.

           Despite his best efforts, Jakeb managed to rip the lid from the jar. Renan awkwardly held the jar with his limp arm, while Jakeb stumbled, grabbing a small amount of powder with his good hand. After gaining his footing, Jakeb lunged once more, being met by a face full of the blue powder. The torrential rain contacted the powder, igniting into an unnatural blue flame. An agonizing scream ripped from Jakeb’s throat, but the voice was that of the creature. Renan used all his strength to throw Jakeb from the carriage, the speeding wheels making a sickening crunch over his body.

           Renan slammed the lid back shut as to not let any water in and clutched the jar to his body. “What the hell…” he said before the carriage’s back wheel shattered as Jakeb’s body hit the rickety wood, sending both Renan and the cart tumbling through the air.

           Lightning flashed across the moonless sky, rain unrelenting and merciless. Upon his back, he laid in the mud, breathless with the jar still clutched tight. His unsteady breaths shook his whole body while his heart screamed for reprieve. He didn’t dare move a muscle, every inch of his body wailing in pain.

           “That was quite some show I must say. What a rush! Too bad I won’t be bringing you along though,” the inky black figure said, limping its way to peer over Renan. It had shrunk to about the same size as Renan, its shape closer to human than before. Though not visible on its skin, the being seemed injured. Renan glanced at the jar in his hand, deciding to move it out of sight.

           The warm, orange hue of the creature’s eyes danced as it relished every moment of Renan’s pain. It knelt atop him, its sharp claws raking down his chest, leaving deep gashes in its wake. With a wicked grin, it flashed its deadly teeth, toying with its prey before feasting.

           “Oh, how I will savor every ounce of agony that you bleed,” it said, finally reaching down to kill him in ways only known by this manifestation of evil.

           With the last drop of life within him, Renan smashed the glass jar upon its head. The glass passed straight through the creature’s body, but the powder stuck. Blue flames enveloped the creature’s face, spreading down its entire body. Its scream of pain was almost incomprehensible to his own ears. Drips of the burning substance, now more a viscous liquid than powder, landed on Renan’s body. It landed on his face and arms, the scent of burning flesh filling his nostrils. Scars of previous battles with the unworldly burned anew, as if they too combusted. His own laughter drowned out the thoughts of pain though as the being above him writhed and cursed him in its own cryptic tongue.

           The flames that enveloped the creature seemed to begin to disappear, folding within its body. With each light that faded out, so did a piece of the thing. Its eyes shone with panic as it stared at Renan. Malice replaced the panic, and it struck his chest with its gnarled clawed. It too laughed at him before fading away all at once, its grin and fiery eyes the last to leave.

           Renan looked down at his chest, a black piece of the creature still there. It was no bigger than the head of a bullet, poised right over his heart. He reached his good hand, which he now realized had a large shard of glass sticking through both sides of his palm, to feel it. The remnant was flush with his skin, and he felt no pain there.

           For some passing of time, for he couldn’t tell whether it was hours or years, he laid there still as a board. The odd blue flames had gone out and now the rain caressed his wounds as he struggled to breathe. Renan’s eyelids grew heavy as he looked upon the night sky. He could have sworn the rain began to let up ever so slightly until it finally… stopped.