Dark Song

© 2001 John Grover
All rights reserved.

Panting, huffing, panting. They heard it beyond the door. The breathing was rapid and heavy. They were alerted and drawn by the sound. They followed the trail of blood down the bare hall, its floor an odd collage of rotting and moss-infested planks of wood, its walls pale and weathered. A variety of doors existed here, their hardware tarnished with age; but there was only one door that was of any interest to them, the one at the end of the hall.

Tracking it all night had been difficult. Even in its wounded state it remained as elusive and cunning as ever.

Throughout the night it managed to hide and run, avoiding attention, blending into its surroundings.

A perilous game of hide and seek, of cat and mouse unfolded in the darkened forests, the steep valleys, the anonymous ghettos and the sleeping junkyards as they tracked it across the state.

Within the confines of an old abandoned house it had retreated, hoping to escape them.

It had not been successful.

"Are you sure your daggers are blessed?" Charlie asked.

"I watched Father Evans do it with my own eyes," Reggie replied.

Charlie could smell the Budweiser on Reggie's breath, thick and bitter. He wished Reggie would keep his drinking to a minimum when they were in the middle of things like this.

Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of earplugs.

"Put your plugs in."

Reggie pulled out his earplugs and pushed them into his hair-filled ears.

"Don't pull 'em out until we're safe from it," Charlie said, feeling his pulse beginning to race and his palms growing sweaty. He yanked the axe out from under his suspenders, wiping the blood covering its blade onto his flannel shirt. "Don't stare into its eyes. The beast is smart."

"Godammit, I know, Charlie. Can we just get this over with? I'd like to kill this thing and get back to my six-pack."

Irritated, Charlie braced his axe and lifted his right leg. With one quick bash the brittle door flew open, almost flying off its hinges.

The two men charged into the room, then stopped abruptly as they soaked it in.

The walls were covered in blood; gnawed wet chunks of rat bodies—or what was left of them—littered the floor. Deep scratches marred the skeletal tables and chairs. as did the dirt and mud.

"It must be starvin'," Reggie shouted, kicking an overturned bed back onto its legs. "It's taken a liking to rats."

Charlie glanced around the room, noticing that the windows were still intact.

"Stay fresh; it's got to be still in here." But where? he thought.

Reggie joined his buddy's side as the two studied the pool of blood in the center of the room. It was fresh and bit darker than human or animal blood.

A screech filled the room, scaring the hell out of the men. They turned to locate the origin of the shrill sound and two wet objects slapped them right in their faces.

Taken off-guard by the rat corpses, the two gagged and stumbled, trying to clear their sight. Wiping the blood from their faces, they gawked at the shape soaring at them from the corner of the ceiling.

A second later their backs hit the floor, hard.

Charlie felt the wind knocked out of him. Fighting to catch his breath, he felt pain shoot up his spine. The axe slid out of his hand.

Heavy breathing was the only sound in the room, coming from behind them. Charlie looked over at Reggie; he was squinting and holding his head but was still conscious. Charlie worked his gaze to the source of the breathing. Slowly he rolled himself onto his belly to look upon it right-side-up.

It waited in the corner of the room for the men to make their next move, watching them with milk-white eyes and panting like a beaten dog. Its leathery wings parted, revealing the naked body of a woman.

But this was no woman.

Her hands were talons, sharp enough to take the head of a man off with one swing; her feet resembled claws, the claws of a bird of prey. The rest of her body was shapely and smooth, ample breasts with pink nipples and sumptuous curves that would entice any male. She might pass for actual human were it not for the tiny scales that lined her thin waist and slithered up her back.

The dark hair that crowned her clung to the jagged teeth lining her powerful, defined jaws. Blood seeped from her mouth in globs, drooling to the floor. She favored a gash across her bulging rib cage that seemed to be healing quickly.

Charlie shook the fuzziness from his head as he kept his eyes glued to her. Contemplating his next move, he watched her open her jaws and listened to muffled tones as she emitted the sweetest sound any man had ever heard.

He wasn't worried; his earplugs were doing their job. He heard Reggie moan beside him and, shifting his gaze, he saw that his friend's plugs had fallen out of his ears and lay across the room.

"Shit!" Charlie threw himself onto Reggie, using his hands to cover his friend's ears. "No, Reg, don't listen!" He searched for Reggie's daggers and found that they, too, lay across the room.

She continued to sing, the sweet call filling the entire house, the windows of the room cracking with the pitch. Charlie fought to keep Reggie down, but it was becoming more difficult. Reggie squirmed beneath him, wanting to go to her, obeying the song she weaved so seductively.

"No! Reggie, damn it, no!"

Charlie pressed his comrade's ears harder, but it was doing nothing. Seeing the daggers again, he leaped from Reggie and rolled over to the blessed weapons, the only type of weapons effective against her.

With a roar, Charlie rushed toward her, daggers drawn. Falling silent, she turned to face him, a smile curling onto her face.

A talon met his charge, slashing across his chest in an upward angle.

The force sent him reeling against the wall. He thought he felt a rib crack as he hit. As he fell, she broke into shrieking laughter and took flight, her bat-like wings carrying her through the window.

Reggie stood on his feet again, rubbing his head.

"What happened?"

"The bitch got away." Charlie managed to pull himself off the floor. "Get your damn plugs. We've got to regroup and find out where it might be going."

Vivid waves of autumn-colored leaves surrounded the pick-up as the men took refuge.

Reggie wrapped bandages around Charlie's ribcage, taking notice of the bruises that peppered his friend's chest and stomach.

Charlie seethed as he watched dead leaves dance in the breezes outside. He scanned the night sky for traces of her, perhaps a shadow zipping by or the unnatural stirring of the wind or scattering of animals. She could be anywhere by now, seeking new prey to strengthen herself and heal the damage they had managed to do to her some forty miles back.

"Ahhh," Charlie winced.

"Sorry, buddy."

"We can't let it get away, Reg. Not after what it did to Brad."

"I know, don't worry. We'll get it."

"Damn harpy!"

Charlie would probably have never known what a harpy was if it hadn't been for that night. His little brother Brad had been living with him and his wife Kelly for about a year. On a particularly cold Friday night, Charlie and Kelly had gone out for dinner and to the drive-in for a movie. Brad had stayed home, claiming to be sick.

Returning from the movie, they came home to find the house dark. That was unusual; Brad had never shut a light off in his life, even when he went to bed.

Charlie charged into the house, expecting to find Brad planning some lame practical joke, when he instead stumbled on a sight he would never forget.

Brad lay on the floor of the living room. His throat had been torn to ribbons, his blood spilled out all over the room, his eyes fixed and staring straight at his brother. The shock frozen on his lifeless face was overwhelming.

A naked woman stood over Brad's body. On closer inspection, Charlie realized that it couldn't possibly be a woman. The talons she had for hands dripped with his brother's blood, and as she stared at her talons, seeming perplexed by her own claws, her white eyes glowed with intense brilliance.

Charlie could see the power she gained from the fresh kill, his brother's essence. Enraged, he lunged for her, hurling himself over the furniture and crashing to the floor.

She hovered above him, her wings lifting her out of harm and stirring a hellish whirlwind within the home.

In moments the room was a disaster and the beast had flown through the bay window, leaving Charlie to crawl to Brad's body.

After that night, Charlie spent day and night at the local library, researching the creature. Her image burned in his memory.

He learned that she was a harpy, a creature that gained strength and power from slaying men. She had no other desire than the death of every human male. Their essence sustained her.

With a sweet call she sang to her victims, luring them into her waiting arms. The sound could not be resisted; it charmed men, entrancing them and rendering them helpless.

She seemed to be have only one weakness. A bladed weapon that had been blessed by a priest could kill the harpy.

Charlie made it his life's goal to hunt the creature down and stop her once and for all. It did not take him long to find her. On his way to try to convince his best friend Reggie for the third time that he was not crazy, he heard sweet sounds coming from Reggie's trailer home.

Reggie owed his life to Charlie, and he would never forget that. The two were bound to the same mission: Find it. Kill it.

"Where d'ya suppose it went?" Reggie asked.

"I'm not sure."

"Well, then, how the hell are we gonna find it?"

"We look!" Charlie put his flannel back on, rubbed his red beard and checked his axe. "Listen, it's wounded. It needs to make another kill to heal up. Let's find the next closest place with people. Now, let's get stared before it gets too far."

Reggie turned the key and threw the truck into gear. They rolled away from the broken-down house, tree branches crackling underneath, the miles of leaves shuffling out of their way. Crossing a small stream, they pulled back onto the main road and drove off in the direction of the next town.

The streetlights were like beacons, guiding them through the small town. The truck rolled slowly through the streets as the two stared into every alley. Every silhouette looked like her, every movement was suspect, every sound an omen of things to come.

"It's here," Charlie said. "I can smell it. I can smell the death in this town."

Reggie just stared through the windshield, continuing to drive.

"Move it a little faster, Reg. Go down some alleys."

"How do you know it's here?"

"I can feel it. We've been chasing this thing for so long, it's like it's a part of me. Like I know when it's around. It crawls inside me, under my skin. It's here all right..."

"Bud, you sound like it's got a hold of you or somethin'. You feeling all right?"

Charlie saw the strange look that Reggie was giving him. But he didn't care. Nothing mattered but killing this thing. He was saving the entire male population. Every man's life depended on him. He would be called a hero.

They turned down an alley, old newspapers gliding around them, trashcans sprouting up everywhere.

"Wait! Wait!" Charlie called.

The truck came to a sudden stop.

"There, right there." Charlie pointed at a sewer cover in the road.

They jumped out of the truck and walked over to the cover. Blood puddled around the its edges, and it appeared to be loose.

"Here, it went down in here. OK, you know what to do. Don't let it surprise us this time."

Reggie once again put his earplugs in and readied his daggers. He watched Charlie take the end of his axe and pry the sewer cover open. With some hesitation, the two descended into the darkness.

The stench hit them head on. It was terrible, foul and putrid. Hidden within it Charlie could detect the subtle scent of death. If she had already made a kill, this would be much more difficult.

"Shit, Charlie, we didn't grab any flashlights."

"Too late for that now. We‚ve got to move before we lose it again. It's close, I can feel it. Stay alert."

The sound of the water sloshing below them sent a sick feeling through Charlie's stomach. They thrashed on, hearing a myriad of sounds call to them. It was a difficult feat to distinguish what was dangerous and what were the ordinary sounds of the sewers.

The sounds seem to come from all around them. Charlie grew confused and nervous. He stopped suddenly, unsure of what to do next.

"Charlie...? Charlie...?" Reggie tried to reach him but there was no response.

Then the moaning caught their attention.

They followed it as if led by their noses. The shadows twisted and writhed all around them as they made their way to the gaping tunnel, which looked like a giant mouth waiting to swallow them whole.

They sloshed into the huge cavernous tunnel and there she was, standing in the back, too busy too react to them.

She stood over a young man, her arm deep inside his chest. His body twitched and wriggled before she let him slide into the water. His blood covered her talons, running down the length of her arm. She stared at the fresh blood with delight, inhaling the scent of it. Her eyes glowed brightly.

Charlie raced toward her, axe held high. He managed to catch one of her wings, slicing into it.

She screeched in agony, dark blood seeping out and smouldering as it hit the fetid water. Howling, she swung hard with her right talon, catching Charlie in the face and sending him across the tunnel.

The back of his head hit the wall like a sledgehammer. He slid down, face burning. He could see nothing. The whole room seemed to be spinning.

"Charlie!" Reggie stepped toward his downed friend, then turned his attention back to the harpy when he heard her screech.

She coiled before him like a great serpent with wings, awaiting his attack. He didn't disappoint her. With the daggers clutched in both fists, he dashed for her.

She stretched out her arm and caught Reggie's throat. Tightening her grip, she curled clawed talons around his flesh, squeezing the air from him. His daggers fell into the water as she hoisted him off his feet.

With her free claw, she plucked the earplugs from Reggie's ears, then released him.

Before he could think, he was listening to the sweet singing that escaped her lips. He smiled, gazing happily into her eyes.

With no will of his own, Reggie gave himself to her. He stepped into her waiting arms and kissed her passionately, sliding his hands over her full breasts and fondling them. Locked in an ecstatic embrace, Reggie surrendered to her charms.

Coughing, Charlie regained his bearings. His widened in shock he saw the scene before him.

He watched the harpy kiss Reggie, turning him away from Charlie's line of sight as her left talon rose in the air.

"Reggie! Reggie! No!"

Charlie struggled to his feet, his legs feeling like Jell-0, and gasped as he watched the talon fall.

She ripped into Reggie's throat, tearing it like paper. Blood splattered her face and breasts; she basked in it, relished it.

Charlie stood, dripping with water and filth, and attacked.

He drove his axe into her spine. She dropped Reggie. A wail escaped her as she fluttered in the water, her wings growing heavy and useless. Charlie lifted the axe and drove it down again. Then again. Then again.

With one final blow he took her head off, sending it across the tunnel like a ball bouncing off the walls.

Exhilaration filled him. He felt himself becoming aroused for a moment before he remembered Reggie.

Rolling his friend's body over he looked into his lifeless eyes.

"I'm sorry Reg. I'm so sorry." Tears came swiftly, rolling down his cheeks. "Damn bitch. I got her, Reg, for us, man, I got her. She'll never kill another man again. Mankind is safe now. It's all because of us, Reg. It's all because of us."

He let Reggie's body slide back into the water and stood up. Wiping tears from his face, he stared into the axe blade. Cleaning her blood from it, he stared at his own distorted reflection. God, he thought, I look like I've aged fifty years.

He started back out of the sewers. Passing her body, he gave it a swift kick before leaving. Climbing into the street, he headed to the truck. How was he ever going to explain Reggie's death? Who would ever believe him?

It didn't matter right now. All that mattered was that the men of the world were now safe.

The pick-up roared to a start and rolled out of the alley. Above it, the sound of flapping filled the night air. She landed on a tree limb, clutching it with great care as she watched the murderer make his escape.

She hissed, her blonde hair dancing in the cold winds that stirred around her. With milk-white eyes, she watched the truck, studied it, and leaped into the air to follow her sister's killer.

No one killed one of her sisters and lived to speak of it.

Opening her jaws, she began to sing.

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