The Creeps: A Samuel Johnson Tale

XXXVII

In Which Mrs. Abernathy Finally Gets Her Just Deserts

A GREAT HOST HAD GATHERED by the shores of Lake Cocytus, in the chilliest, bleakest region of Hell. Jagged peaks towered above the lake, casting their shadows across its frozen surface. Nothing dwelt among their crevasses and caves: even the hardiest of demons shunned Cocytus. A bitter, howling wind blew ceaselessly across the lake’s white plain, the only barriers to its progress being the bodies of those not fully submerged beneath the ice.

Cocytus was both a lake and a river, one of five that encircled Hell, the others being the Styx, the Phlegethon, the Acheron, and the Lethe. But Cocytus was the deepest and, where it entered the Range of Desolation, the widest. It was there that the Great Malevolence imprisoned those who had betrayed it. The lake had four sections, each deeper than the next: those guilty of only minor betrayals were permitted to keep their upper bodies and arms above the surface; those in the second level were trapped up to their necks; those in the third were surrounded by ice, yet a little light still penetrated to where they lay; but the worst were imprisoned in the darkest depths of the lake, where there was no light, and no hope.

The Great Malevolence itself had once been a prisoner of the lake, placed there by a power much greater than its own, but it had been freed by a demon that had melted the ice with cauldrons of molten lava. Each load of lava would melt only an inch of ice, and before the next cauldron could be brought, most of the ice would have returned again, so that every cauldron made only the tiniest fraction of difference. Yet still the demon filled its cauldron and carried it to the lake, working without rest for millennia, until finally the ice was weak and low enough for the Great Malevolence to escape.

That demon was Ba’al, later to mutate into Mrs. Abernathy.

The Great Malevolence was not a being familiar with sadness or regret. It was too selfish, too wrapped up in its own pain. But Mrs. Abernathy’s betrayal had hurt it more than it had ever been hurt before. Now it was forced to condemn to the lake the demon that had once saved it from this same ice. Had there been even one atom of mercy in the Great Malevolence, it might have found some way to forgive Mrs. Abernathy, or make her punishment less severe, as a reward for her help in times past.

But the Great Malevolence was entirely without mercy.

It had instructed all the hordes of Hell to gather at the Range of Desolation and witness Mrs. Abernathy’s fate. It would be a lesson to them all. The Great Malevolence demanded loyalty without question. Betrayal could lead only to the ice.

Arrayed before him were the jars containing the various parts of Mrs. Abernathy. At a signal from the Great Malevolence, the jars were emptied on the ice and Mrs. Abernathy—part human, part Ba’al—was reassembled until only the space for her heart remained empty. Finally, Crudford appeared accompanied by the Watcher, and carrying the beating black heart in his arms.

“Well?” said the Great Malevolence.

“The Shadows have withdrawn, Your Awfulness,” said Crudford. “They will threaten you no more.”

The Great Malevolence did not share Crudford’s optimism. The Kingdom of Shadows would always be a threat, although the Great Malevolence did not say this aloud: it would display weakness, even fear, and it could not be weak or fearful in front of the masses of Hell. Beside the Great Malevolence, the Watcher fluttered its bat wings briefly, the only sign it gave that it, too, understood the danger posed by the Shadows.

“And the boy?” said the Great Malevolence. “What of Samuel Johnson?”

“He fought her,” said Crudford. “Without him, she might well have managed to complete the ritual, and the rule of the Shadows would have begun.”

“Such strength,” said the Great Malevolence. “Such bravery. Perhaps, in time, he might be corrupted, and we could draw him to our side.”

Crudford very much doubted that, but he knew better than to say so.

“And the traitor Nurd?” said the Great Malevolence.

“He remains on Earth with the boy.”

“He should be here. He should be frozen in the ice like all these others who have betrayed me.”

Again, Crudford said nothing. He felt the Watcher’s eight black eyes examining him, waiting for Crudford to make an error, to condemn himself with his own words, but Crudford did not.

The Great Malevolence waved a clawed, bejeweled hand.

“Place the heart in its cavity,” it instructed.

Crudford did as he was ordered, and was glad to be rid of the horrid thing. Instantly the heart began to fuse with the flesh around it, and the disconnected parts of Mrs. Abernathy’s body started to come together. Atoms bonded, bones stretched, and veins and arteries formed intricate networks.

When all was complete, Mrs. Abernathy’s eyes opened, and she rose to her feet.

“Master,” she said.

“Traitor,” said the Great Malevolence.

“All that I did, I did for you.”

“No, you did it for yourself. You sided with our enemies. You called the Shadows to your cause. You would have given them the Multiverse, and eventually Hell itself, all to avenge yourself on one human child.”

“It’s not true,” said Mrs. Abernathy. “It was all a trick on my part. I had a secret plan . . .”

She was frightened now. The ice was already burning her bare feet. She looked to Crudford for help.

“Tell our master, Crudford. Tell it of my loyalty.”

But there could be no comfort from Crudford. Mrs. Abernathy was appealing to the only demon in Hell who was incapable of lying. Before she could speak again, the Great Malevolence’s right hand closed around her body, and it lifted her high above the lake.

“I condemn you,” said the Great Malevolence, and its voice echoed from the mountains as every demon in Hell looked on. “You are a traitor, and there is only one punishment for traitors.”

And with all the force that it could muster, the Great Malevolence flung Mrs. Abernathy at the ice. She hit the surface and broke through, and the ice gave way before her as she plummeted deeper and deeper into the lake. At last, when she was lower than any of the others condemned to its cold grip, her descent slowed, then ceased entirely. The ice closed above her head, and she was lost to view.

There was only one task left for the Great Malevolence to complete, for there was one demon that most definitely could not be allowed to roam freely throughout Hell and the Multiverse any longer, spreading his optimism and good cheer. There was space in Cocytus for Crudford as well. Looking on the bright side was also a betrayal of all that the Great Malevolence stood for.

But when the Great Malevolence reached for Crudford, the little demon was already gone, and he was never again seen in Hell.