Drummer Boy - Back Into Hell Ch. 02

Drummer Boy: Bat Out of Hell II: Back to Hell

Howdy boys and girls! We're finally back in Tarterus! And they say you can't go home again. Enjoy!

* * * * *

"Okay," Leanne said. "That's a new one."

"You've never heard of this Thing in the Way?" Jason said.

"No, I haven't," Leanne admitted with a thoughtful look on her face. "Does explain a few things, though."

"It does?" Jason said. "Like what?"

"Just rumors," Leanne said. "Speculation. Why it is that, every now and again, folks just went missing."

"Missing?" Jason said. "Like go into a portal, and never come out?" Leanne nodded. "That sounds like something I shoulda known about before gettin' ganked from planet to planet!"

"Look, kid," Leanne said, "you gotta know by now that the ways between worlds aren't so well-known anymore. But even when they were it was never a sure bet. Folks'd get lost from time to time, and no one ever knew why."

"Well, now we know," Jason said. "It's 'cause there's a creepy god-monster hiding in there. Hobbies include smoking weed, eating gyros, and, oh yeah, snatchin' up souls passing through!" He shook his head. "I don't get the bit about enchanted gold though. What's up with that?"

"Diaboli," Leanne said. "Coin of the realm. Stamped with the faces of the Three and imbued with magic. Never leave home without 'em."

"Huh, so that's why Pearl had 'em," Jason said. "They're like interdimensional bus tokens."

Leanne nodded. "Usually the diaboli just disappear during the tr-"

"Oh, holy jesus," Jason said, with a shudder. "I saw Electra ... make one."

Leanne shook her head sadly. "Yeah," she said. "Us demons... Just full of sunshine, huh?"

They sat in silence for a few seconds.

"Well, no point bellyachin' about it now," Leanne said. "We got other fish ta fry."

Right then, a loud thump came from the other side of the dressing room wall. Jason jumped, but Leanne remained still.

"Speaking of," Jason said, "should we be concerned about-"

Leanne waved a hand. "Don't worry about it," Leanne said. "'Lissa's got her under control for now. What you need to do is keep talking."

"Okay," Jason said. "So, I go through the portal, and I guess the Thing couldn't resist fucking with me one more time..."

* * *

The world of Tarterus has roughly the same mass as that of the Earth. Thus, like the Earth, the gravitational field of Tarterus pulls objects toward it with an acceleration of about 32 feet per second, every second. An object in freefall above Tarterus increases in velocity as it falls, until the force of gravity is matched by the drag of the object against the surrounding medium, in this case, the air. This is called terminal velocity, regardless of the planet one is on. For an object the size and shape of a flailing human body, this terminal velocity ends up being about 120 miles per hour.

Taking these factors into account, and starting from an initial height of about 10,000 feet (the altitude at which the Thing in the Way had puckishly placed the portal), this gave Jason about 60 seconds to live, before becoming little more than a small, pulp-filled crater on Tarterus' unforgiving surface.

Jason, of course, knew none of these factoids. All he knew was that he was screwed. Again.

The first couple of seconds he spent taking in the view. Jason was waaaaaaay high up, so high that he could see the curvature of the world, including a clear view of where the orange horizon of the planet met the rosy pink of the sky.

Then Jason began to really pick up speed. Even without knowledge of the physics behind terminal velocity, he very clearly realized that it didn't take too long to reach it. Also, he discovered, the wind hitting him at that speed was super loud, and hurt like hell.

After that, there followed about thirty seconds or so of angry whining. Why did the Thing in the Way give him a big ol' pep talk about taking charge of his life, and then put him in a situation where he had no choice in the matter? Why couldn't he get seduced by a normal gal instead of a power-hungry demon chick? Why does the ground have to be coming toward him so fast? It was all so unfair.

He was still ranting in his mind when he felt a pair of strong hands grab his ankles. The demon woman, because it had to be, spun him around so that his feet were pointed at the ground, and then wrapped her arms around his torso from behind. Then came a *whoof* sound, as the demon opened up her wings, significantly decreasing their downward velocity.

Jason let out a sigh of relief. "Hey beautiful," he shouted over the rushing of wind, "what kept you?"

Receiving no reply, he tried again. "Nice catch," he said. "Makes you glad you got both arms again, huh?" Again, no response.

Jason puzzled. He'd thought that this was Pearl, reprising her role from the last time she'd saved him from falling to his death.

But now that he thought about it, the arms that held him were red, not golden. And it couldn't be Granny either, since she'd never pass up an opportunity to admonish him with a hearty "Silence, beast!"

So who, then? And, just as importantly, why? And, probably more importantly, where was she taking him?

The answer to the last question, at least, became immediately obvious. Below them, and coming up fast, was the Aerie. Now that they were closer to the ground, the monumental stone spire stood out in sharp relief against the miles of relatively flat terrain around it.

His rescuer aimed them right for it. When they were close enough, the Wing carrying him flattened them out, changing their trajectory so that they dove through a hole near the top of the structure.

Once inside, the Wing spread her leathery wings wide, airbraking them both to an abrupt halt.

"Son of a bitch," Jason said. He realized that he was back in the barracks again. Cistern, Naughty Chair, chains hanging from the ceiling, the whole nine, just like he remembered.

Then the demon abruptly released her grip on Jason, depositing him unceremoniously onto the stone floor. Quickly gathering his wits, Jason turned to look at the face of his rescuer.

And had no idea who she was. There was no doubt that she was one of Pearl's "beautiful sisters": tall and busty, red as a sexy beet, full head of jet black curls with pure obsidian eyes to match, and leathery black bat wings sprouting from her back. But although the general features were similar to the demon women he knew so well, the face wasn't one he recognized. She was dressed in some sort of leather skirt and halter combo straight out of an old "sword-and-sandals" flick, only minus the sandals. What did these chicks have against shoes?

"The landing was a little rough," Jason said warily, "but, hey, it beats dealing with TSA."

The demon stared at Jason with a contemptuous look, straight from the Grand Wing Mother's Handbook for Putting Down Humans, 2nd Ed. She reached behind her back and whipped out a long spear with a distressingly serrated steel head.

"Whoa, whoa!" Jason said, holding his hands up. "How about a pat-down instead?"

The woman gestured with the spear at a spot behind Jason, shouting something that sounded a lot like "hargle bargle garbargle!" Then she did an about face, and flew back out the window.

Jason was watching her go when a voice came from behind him.

"I don't know what she said neither," the distinctly male voice said, "but I bettin' it boils down to 'Sit your ass down and stay outta the way'."

Jason looked. The speaker was sitting along the far wall, his back against the stone. This person was naked, had neither wings, horns, nor tail, and, furthermore, it was Thumper.

Jason sighed. "Oh thank god," he said. He sat down on the floor next to Thumper. "For a second there I thought I landed on the other planet of busty amazon demons."

"Nope, you're in the right place," Thumper said. "Glad you could make it. It was gettin' kinda lonely up here in this above-ground sex dungeon."

Thumper spoke with a thick accent that Jason didn't immediately recognize. His "i"s sounded like "ah"s, his "th"s came out like stubby "d"s, and his "r"s were more like rounded-off "w"s. Definitely not a Texan, but Jason had other things besides regional accents on his mind right now.

"Believe it or not," Jason said, "this is where they sleep. Or so I've been told."

Thumper looked around. "I don't see any beds," he said.

Jason pointed up at the hanging chains, some still clinking from the demon's exit. "They hang from those," he said, "by their feet."

Thumper shrugged. "Still sounds like 'sex dungeon' to me," he said. "Well, may as well get comfy, podner. Skye said this might take a while."

"Skye?" Jason said. "Who the hell is Skye?"

"You know, Skye?" Thumper said, "Stripper-slash-monster girl that brought us here? She said you were friends."

Clearly, Thumper was talking about Granny, but the only other name Jason knew her by was Garanetta. Apparently, Granny had been up to a lot of shit in the last week, and for whatever reason, she'd needed a name change. Mental shrug; might as well play along.

"Yeah," Jason said, "although ... Skye ... isn't exactly what I'd call a friend."

"That right?" Thumper said, suspicion creeping into his voice. "So what is she to you, then?"

"It's kinda complicated," Jason said.

Thumper looked like he was about to take some sort of jealous, territorial umbrage, but was interrupted by a bright flash of light from outside, followed immediately by a sharp boom of thunder so loud that it rattled the chains hanging above them.

Jason got up. "Come on," he said. "You're gonna wanna get a load of this."

"I am?" Thumper said. "I really don't think so."

"Sorry, man," Jason said. "Like it or not, you're involved now. May as well see what all the fuss is about."

Jason cocked his head in the direction of the big window. Thumper got to his feet, and they both cautiously approached the opening. The window had a sort of stone sill at about knee height. They braced themselves on the sill, and gazed down below.

As Jason had suspected, the Wings and Spines were fighting again. Only this time, it wasn't the massive armies that he'd witnessed before. Jason counted maybe thirty Wings, tops, against roughly three times as many of the powerfully-built Spines.

In many ways, both forces were similar. Formidable, crimson-hued women, highly motivated by the prospect of brutally exterminating their foes. They even seemed to have a similar taste in battle gear: the leather skirts and halters seemed to be their standard uniform.

The similarities ended there. The Wings had their namesake wings, of course, while the Spines had horns of various sizes and shapes sprouting from the tops of their heads. And while some of the Wings wore leather helmets, no doubt to keep the hair out of the faces while flying about, none of the Spines wore headgear of any kind. In fact, none of them had long hair at all, preferring to keep their hair closely cropped, so as to better display their dangerous-looking horns.

Their fighting tactics differed too, each playing to their strengths. While the Wings didn't have the numbers to form the swarms of strike teams Jason had seen before, they still fought in a coordinated fashion, swooping down at their land-bound targets, drawing their fire before feinting away. Eventually, they'd catch a Spine off balance, and get in a killing blow. More often than not, these were delivered by spear, which seemed to be the Wings favored weapon, but a few of them were using swords.

The Spines, on the other hand, seemed to be more about the smacking and smashing than the slicing and stabbing. Most of them carried iron-spiked wooden clubs, although some had actual war hammers with black iron heads.

Their battle strategy seemed to be to bring their foes down by blasting them with lightning. All they needed to do was concentrate for half a second, and their horns would start glowing like crazy. Then a bolt crackling blue electricity would arc upward, in search of a target. Most of the time they missed, but the goal seemed to be to herd the Wings around. Inevitably, they'd catch one unawares, stunning the unlucky Wing. Once on the ground, there'd be a Spine waiting, ready to literally bring the hammer down, instantly squashing the Wing into limb-strewn lasagna.

Despite that, the Wings were dishing out a lot more hurt than they were taking. Hell, they might even be winning.

Jason scanned the battlefield, trying to catch sight of golden Pearl, or butterfly-winged Kristin, but didn't see them anywhere.

"Where are Pearl and Kristin?" Jason said.

"Who?" Thumper said.

Jason realized that Thumper, rightfully, had no idea who he was talking about. He'd never met Kristin, and, although he had met Pearl, she'd been human-looking at the time, and missing an arm to boot.

"Never mind," Jason said. "Anyway, there's your girl," he said, pointing at Granny. Not that she was easy to miss.

Granny looked fantastically out of place. Rather than armor, she was still wearing the mesh shirt and booty shorts she'd been wearing before. No helmet, so her hair was whipping all over the place.

For the most part, Granny kept herself apart from the main battle, hovering over the whole mess, no doubt mentally coordinating her warriors. She stayed on the move, though, and every so often she'd dart down to get up close and personal with the Spines. This almost always resulted in her target being reduced to two or more bloody pieces. Then, just as quickly, she was back in overwatch mode, readying her next "fuck you" to the Spines.

"And I'm guessing that's her opposite number," Thumper said, gesturing at another part of the battle.

The Spine in charge was pretty obvious. Her horns were absolutely huge: tall, thick and ridged, almost like an antelope's, except each one easily twice the size of her head. She barked out orders, which were unconditionally obeyed by her subordinates.

The weapon she carried had to have been a custom job. It was like someone had taken two meat tenderizers the size of anvils and welded them together. The whole thing was as big as she was, but she swung it around with deceptive ease. She tirelessly circumnavigated the battlefield, sometimes leaping into the air, propelling herself with her powerful leg muscles, wham into her unsuspecting targets mid-flight, and sending them down into the clutches of her land-bound sisters.

As Jason watched the chaos below, he began to realize that it wasn't chaos at all. There was an almost orchestral coordination to it. There were individual movements, sure, but those movements were always part of something bigger. There were patterns, and those patterns created a rhythm that was comforting, even seductive. To him, it began to seem less like death and destruction, and more like a big piece of music. Sometimes brash and by the numbers, like rock and roll, and other times there were jazz-like bursts of virtuosity, as one member or group did something unexpected and marvelous. Punk rock rampages and country grandstanding, hip-hop braggadocio and the quiet desperation of emo...

"Aren't there any men?" Thumper said.

Jason snapped out of his reverie. He'd somehow gotten so lost in watching the carnage below, he'd forgotten everything else. He shook his head to clear it before answering.

"Naw," Jason said. "It's all ladies, all the time."

"How do they make babies, then?" Thumper said. Jason shrugged. "And where d'they get all the leather? They have cows here? Like, hellcows?"

"I don't know about any of that," Jason said, feeling foolish that he'd never even thought about asking these basic, seemingly obvious, questions. "But if I've learned anything about these ladies and this world, whatever awful thing you're imagining, the real answer's probably a hundred times worse."

Thumper shrugged. "Okay," he said, "I'm just gonna go with hellcows."

A great bellowing roar drew their attention back down to the battle. It came from the leader of the Spines, whose whole body was suddenly surrounded by bristling blue electricity.

"Uh-oh," Thumper said. "Limit Break."

"What?" Jason said.

"Like in Final Fantasy?" Thumper said.

"Are you talking fantasy football?" Jason said.

"It's a video game!" Thumper said. "Like, a really popular series."

"Pretend for a minute," Jason said, "that my life goals have included stuff besides mauling a little plastic controller."

"Man, what rock have you been under?" Thumper said. "She's gettin' powered up for her special attack. Check it."

Promptly thereafter, a crackling tendril of lightning lanced out from the big Spine. The tendril struck the ground nearby and ripped out a great big reddish boulder.

The rock flew toward the Spine leader, and she hopped onto it. Then, glaring murderous hatred at the distant, hovering form of Granny, she and the boulder were aloft, rocketing through the air toward the Grand Wing Mother.

Granny didn't even hesitate. She welcomed the challenge, swooping sword-first toward the super-charged, rock-flying Spine. And, as if being a super-charged, rock-flying, horned powerhouse wasn't enough, her dual-meat tenderizer displayed the ability to separate, becoming two ridiculously oversized, studded hammers, ready to pound Granny into milanesa.

"I can't watch this," Thumper said, and turned away. Then, "Oh my god!" he exclaimed. "Dude ... seriously?!"

Jason looked at Thumper, who was looking at Jason's junk. And Jason's junk was rock-hard and throbbing.

"It's not what you think-" Jason lamely began.

"That you're the kind of guy who gets off on some girl-on-girl brutality?" Thumper said. "'Cause that's what I'm thinking."

"No, it's this world," Jason said. "Just being here makes sex and violence get all kinda tangled up together."

"Bullshit," Thumper said. "You can't blame that on anything but yourself."

"No, really!" Jason protested. "It changes you. That's why we can't stay here too long."

"Man..." Thumper said. He backed away from the window, shaking his head and making his dreadlocks swing.

"You know what?" Thumper said, "right now, I don't even care. This has been the weirdest goddamn day of my life."

"Take it from me," Jason said, "this is only the first weirdest goddamn day of your life."

"Look, man," Thumper said, "in the past 24 hours I've been seduced, mind-controlled, went ... some kinda sex crazy, found out that the woman I've been tryin' to talk to is some kinda devil, fell into a coma, and woke up on another planet."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Jason said. "So let me rephrase: If you survive, this will be the first weirdest goddamn day of your life."

"Yeah?" Thumper said. "And what do you know about it?"

Jason smiled grimly. "Brother," he said, "have I got a story for you."

But before Jason could relay even the beginning of that story to the skeptical Thumper, there was a rush of wind that knocked both men to the floor.

One of the Wings, a still different one, had entered through the window. She looked pretty beat up, but not nearly as beat up as the Spine she carried on her spear, skewered right through her belly.

"Fuck no no no oh no no..." Thumper muttered, and started scooting backwards on his butt away from the demons.

The spitted Spine was the leader they'd seen. She was even more enormous up close; easily ten feet of muscle and sinew, and that was without the horns.

The horns, which, Jason noted, she no longer had. They'd been sliced clean off, and the stumps that remained were nearly a foot in diameter. Her eyes were swollen shut, and in addition to the spear through her abdomen, she had several alarmingly long and deep gashes all over her body. But even sliced up and battered to shit, she still moaned and twitched, albeit feebly.