Chapter 593

The jungle breathed. Humid, heavy, and alive, it surrounded Iago's small village in Papua New Guinea. He was eleven, small for his age, with wide, observant eyes that missed nothing. Tonight, the jungle held its breath, waiting.

The air tasted of rain and decay. Usually, the night held the comforting chorus of insects, the rustle of small creatures in the undergrowth. Tonight, there was only silence, an unnerving quiet that even the village dogs seemed to sense, huddled close to their masters' huts.

Iago clutched his small wooden carving of a tokotoko, a mythical bird spirit said to protect children. He didn't usually feel fear, the jungle was his home, his playground, his provider. But tonight, a prickling unease crawled beneath his skin.

Old Man Kapi, the village shaman, stood by the fire pit, his face as dark and wrinkled as dried tobacco leaves. He chanted in a low, guttural tone, a ritual against unseen evils. The flames danced, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to writhe with a life of their own.

"Something is coming," Kapi said, his measured almost a whisper, but strong enough to hear in the village. His words had been like that of a hammer hitting iron, each one hitting Iago in the head like he was the smithy.

The demon chose its form well. A dog, but not a dog Iago or anyone in his village had ever seen before. It appeared in the shadows beyond the fire. Big as a calf, with fur the color of dried blood, and eyes that glowed with hellfire, not light.

Its teeth were long and cruel, bared in a perpetual snarl. From its throat emitted a low growl, a sound that seemed to vibrate the very ground beneath their feet. The air stank of sulfur, acrid and choking.

The village dogs howled, a chorus of terror that shattered the heavy quiet. They strained at their ropes, desperate to escape the unholy thing that stood just outside the circle of light.

Then, it moved.

A surge of terrifying velocity, it charged into the village, scattering the dogs like leaves in a storm. People screamed, scrambling back in fear, the protective circle broken, the shaman was screaming too, the first time Iago had ever seen him yell,

The demon-dog tore through the village, wreaking chaos. It overturned huts, its powerful legs splintering the flimsy structures. It snapped at anything that moved, its jaws closing with brutal efficiency. Iago watched, frozen, his tokotoko clutched so tight his knuckles ached.

He heard a child cry nearby, and his paralysis dissolved. He had to do something. Anything.

He grabbed a burning branch from the fire pit, its flames licking at his skin. He ran towards the creature, yelling, "Leave them alone! Get out of here!"

The demon-dog turned its burning eyes on him. Its growl deepened, and it stalked towards him, its massive body a shadow of malice in the firelight.

Iago stood his ground, the burning branch held high. He knew it was a pathetic defense against such a monstrous thing, but he wouldn't let fear paralyze him again.

"Go back to where you came from!" he shouted, his young measured strong and clear.

The dog lunged.

He braced himself for the strike, the searing pain of its fangs. But then, something shifted. A flicker in its burning eyes, a moment of hesitation. The demon-dog stopped, its snarl faltering.

Iago saw something else in its eyes then. A flicker of something else. A brief, fleeting glimpse of...pain? Confusion? He didn't understand.

Old Man Kapi started chanting. Louder than before, desperate and pleading.

The demon-dog whined, a high-pitched, mournful sound that belied its terrifying appearance. It clawed at its head, shaking violently, as if trying to dislodge something within.

The flames on Iago's branch dwindled, turning from raging gold to glowing embers. It no longer scared the dog.

It buckled, falling to the ground, twitching and snarling as Kapi poured what looked like chicken's blood on it. It whimpered, struggling weakly against the force that controlled it. The sulfurs sent emanating were less like choking poison now, more like rotting eggs in Iago's mind.

Iago stared at the struggling creature, confused and terrified. What was happening?

Suddenly, the dog arched its back. With an unearthly howl, something burst from its chest, a swirling cloud of black smoke that solidified into a vaguely humanoid form. The demon.

It hovered above the dying dog, its burning eyes fixated on Iago. It spoke, its voice a rasping whisper that echoed in Iago's mind, promising power beyond comprehension if only the boy pledged himself in its service.

Kapi screamed from his hut door. "Don't listen, boy!"

He looked from the wounded animal, slowly returning to the wild creature it was to the hovering monstrosity hanging above it, the chicken blood causing an almost sizzling effect where it made contact with the dark and twisted spirit of darkness.

The demon, now no longer bothering with subtlety as Kapi continued to scream and beckon. It roared now, the whispers and sweet pleasantries all gone. "Come boy and know powers your pathetic kind will never obtain."

It dangled before him, and yet Iago hesitated, thinking of the villagers. Would all of this stop should he merely give the spirit what he wanted, what it desired from him in that moment? Was that the point of all of this to begin with?

If Iago did nothing all of the people he held dear would die... perhaps painfully if the spirit found a way to enjoy such activities?

Iago felt his resolve harden. This spirit could promise what it may, but at the expense of everyone and everything he held dear to his heart he knew what had to be done. A life of luxury and peace meant nothing if others could not experience it as well, he refused to subject himself or his family and friends to any situation where that was not guaranteed. His branch crumbled to dust, and in its place his wooden bird fell onto the earth. "I reject your bargain." Iago roared, louder and far braver than he believed he could.

"Then witness the price!" The demon spat, electricity firing through the air as its form convulsed even harder.

With a swipe of its clawed hand, a bolt of black energy shot towards Old Man Kapi's hut. The hut erupted into flames, engulfing the elderly shaman within its burning embrace, who was still trying to make his way outside as he tried to evade its advance.

Iago screamed as he heard the man burning in the huts. He sprinted forward, his hand reaching out towards Kapi's door, but heat scorched his face.

Even as Iago attempted to force his way through, his small body and pathetic attempts to break the burning material were fruitless, all while that blasted dog lay dying on the dirt in front of him, its master so focused on ensuring it acquired a servant for his dirty work.

Tears streamed down his face as his home had become a mausoleum for all that he held dear, now not knowing what to do or where to run next as his home began its fall around him.

The demon cackled. It swirled, growing more concentrated. A deal must be fulfilled, a price was payed after all, and the only way now for that particular situation to change was for one key thing to happen...

Iago finally seemed to understand now, however, why that thing that killed Kapi was dying right where it sat.

"Now your turn to decide." The demon rasped. "Live, or shall it die?" The dog convulsed weakly, staring directly at Iago. What could he do now? Should it truly all come down to this, making him responsible for what came next? Would anything even change after such point?

The dog whimpered softly, looking into Iago's face as if silently pleading for something… anything… Perhaps… Release? Mercy?

With heavy steps and an even heavier heart, Iago knelt by the dog's side. He gently stroked its matted fur, ignoring the last tendrils of sulfur that still clung to it.

The dog seemed to relax under his touch, its hellfire eyes dimming slightly.

He couldn't save Kapi. He couldn't save his village. But maybe, just maybe, he could offer this creature some measure of peace, and perhaps with it save his village in one way or another, knowing what he knew.

The demon shrieked, an earsplitting sound that threatened to shatter Iago's sanity. "No! It is mine! Mine to control, to bend to my will!" The ground vibrated around Iago's body, not sure if it was from fear of from what sort of ritual was taking place with whatever actions he was planning next.

All that mattered in that moment was his task, and what exactly was required of him for it to occur properly.

Iago closed his eyes, blocking out the demon's cries and focusing on the weak, shallow breaths of the dog beneath his hand.

He reached for the small knife at his waist, a tool he usually used for carving wood.

His hand shook.

"Do it, boy." The voice, a bare audible whisper, came not from the demon above him but from the dog, it seemed. Iago, not realizing the beast held the faculty of understanding like himself up to this very moment.

He seemed conflicted by everything that was unfolding right before his eyes, and unsure exactly on where it was he wished to go next with whatever tasks were ahead. However, whatever task was necessary needed to be done now.

Tears flowed freely down his face, mingling with the grime and soot that covered him. But his resolve did not. "I'm sorry." He whispered to the animal as much as he whispered to himself as he choked back emotion he never before had to bare, making the next series of actions that he took a true exercise in the pain he was willing to feel for what was right.

The decision may pain him now and maybe always in the future. Regardless of if things improve or remain painful now and after, he at the very least did something and chose. Chose to be the factor that turned his direction instead of fate being the master and guide.

With a swift movement and all of the force his small arms could muster, Iago plunged the knife into the dog's heart.

The dog shuddered once, then went still.

The demon screamed, a sound of pure, unadulterated rage. It swirled, coalescing into a tight, black ball of hatred. Then, with a final, earth-shattering explosion, it vanished.

Silence descended on the village.

A heavy, suffocating silence, broken only by the crackling of the flames. The air, no longer filled with the stench of sulfur, now smelled only of smoke and death.

Iago sat there, cradling the body of the dog, the knife still clutched in his hand. He was alone. Everyone and everything was gone.

He looked up at the sky, at the indifferent moon hanging high above. What now? Where could he even proceed after all he had witnessed on that fateful night? Did anyone care about whether he survived, or whether he was next on the chopping block? Would others even see what he sacrificed on this cursed night to even save anything to begin with.

As the hours dragged on, the inferno began its advance forward, with more homes falling as its influence pressed onward. There was nobody to blame in this scenario, nobody to scream or chastise, to push or promote from the experience.

What was done was done, that demon was vanquished, and his reward in trade was what exactly? Suffering? Endless questioning? This all seemed unfair, all seeming as though everything could and would never be fixed again.

No prayer was coming to him now. No sense of relief came to soothe his body into rest either. He deserved better… Didn't he?

He was about to embark on his walk and go wherever it would take him when he saw two familiar spirits hovering at the forest edge: Kapi, and behind him every man, woman, and child, all beaming directly at Iago. With a familiar whisper they looked at each other as he gave a long tearful glare, their hands moving in an unspoken beckoning for Iago to approach. It seemed like his answer was here.

His tokotoko spirit flew off, taking all of his physical strength along with it, his knees buckling in the dirt now as he lay prostrate at their perceived feet.

His mind was going blank and yet his focus was razor sharp on these benevolent spectres guiding him forward, showing him exactly what task it was that fate desired of him next.

His vision shifted. His consciousness faded. Finally, peace, or at least rest. The sounds and smells had fully evaded him, and for the first time in longer than he could know, sleep.

But alas, that also meant rest and a brand-new world he could feel himself starting to welcome, just on the other side of that plane, where now nothing at all would matter besides the company he kept in death.