Billy

Part 1. The Boy

In a lonely corner of a run-down barn, the child Billy huddled weeping. He couldn’t see well, between the tears and the swelling in his eye. The skin around that eye, red and puffy, was already beginning to show the signs of purple and blue. Oh how he hated them. Hated them! He could still hear their jeers, laughing at him, calling him sheep-cousin, wool-brain, and worse. It wasn’t Billy’s fault he spent all day with the sheep. Or that he smelled like them? His Da set him the task. It wasn’t fair!

Billy cried out in angry frustration, screaming loudly and flailing his arms uselessly. He had come into town today hoping to catch a few precious seconds with Marian. Of course, as usual, Edmund and Roland showed up and nothing went as he wanted. He never got to speak to Marian, but he was certain that if he could just talk to her alone for a few minutes he could make her understand. He would tell her how he felt and she would love him for it. He was certain of it.

Earlier, when Billy had seen Marian walking down the street, the boys nowhere in evidence and he could hardly believe his good fortune. He had jogged up to her and when he called her name she turned to him and smiled. She smiled! At him! Billy had been certain today would be the day. He would confess his love to her and she would do the same. That was how it was supposed to have happened. Instead, slinking from the shadow of a nearby house, they had come. Edmund and Roland. Almost as if they had been waiting there. The pair had stolen that moment from Billy. That and more. Now Billy was in a barn, crying, with an eye slowly turning black. He hated them.

A sound near the barn’s entrance caused Billy to look up. He sniffled and wiped the snot from his face. There was a figure standing in the door, his form just a silhouette of darkness interrupting the light streaming in behind him. For a moment, as he looked at the old man, Billy thought he could see darkness about him, like a halo of blackest night. It chilled Billy and for that heartbeat he forgot all about Edmund and Roland and even Marian. For that heartbeat he was certain he was about to die.

Then the man spoke and Billy laughed inside at his foolishness. “Good morrow to you boy.” The man’s voice trembled slightly and when he stepped forward into the barn, Billy could see that he was old, very old. His body was gnarled and twisted like the branches of a juniper tree and a dirty beard of white and gray tumbled away from a wrinkled face. The old man watched Billy through eyes of black charcoal that seemed to weigh and measure the child.

Billy stood up and wiped his eyes. He knew this man. He was the peddler. What was the Morten doing out here?

“Are you well boy? ” Morten asked.

Billy opened his mouth, intending to say he was fine, that everything was good, but instead different words spilled from him. He told the old peddler everything. His desire for Marian. His hatred of Edmund and Roland. His bitterness at how he was treated. His anger with his father, who forced him to spend all his days with the animals. And wasn’t that the reason he was teased anyhow? Billy held nothing back. His anger and frustration gushed from him almost as if he were a damn that had burst.

Finally, when his words ran dry, he looked at Morten, “Uh,” he stammered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

But the peddler interrupted him, “Nonsense. I believe I have just what you need, boy.” Then the old man said as he brought forth a wooden band of rich reddish-brown.

Billy had never seen anything so beautiful. A ring of cherry wood. Just looking at it, he was certain that if he wore it, Marian would notice him. “What is that?” Billy asked, tentatively reaching for it.

But the old man pulled his hand back with a tsk tsk sound. “Billy, Billy.” he said, shaking his head, “I cannot simply give this to you. It is magical. Powerful. With this,” he brandished the ring before Billy, “you can have your hearts every desire.” For a moment he looked at Billy, then said, “No, no I cannot just give it to you, we must come to an agreement.”

Billy felt his world crashing down around him. It was always the same. Everything he wanted right in front of him, but just out of reach. “Oh.” he muttered dejectedly, “Oh, my Da won’t give me even a silver coin.” He slumped back against the barn wall, tears springing anew to his eyes.

Morten smiled and looking at that smile, Billy thought it was a smile that hid secrets.

“Billy,” the peddler said, “it’s not coin I want from you. Tell me why you want this ring?”

“For Marian.” Billy blurted out immediately, “So she’ll be my girl.”

Again Morten made a tsk tsk sound, “Billy, you must be honest with me.”

It’s the truth, Billy thought, he did want Marion. It was true, but also. “I hate them.” the body added, “I hate them and I want to hurt them.”

Another smile on Morten’s face, this one somehow darker, “Better.” the peddler said, “But I said honesty Billy. Complete honesty. That is the price for this ring.”

Billy’s face flushed red, “Fine.” he growled, “I want to kill Roland. I hate him so much.”

“And?” Morten asked, licking his lips with anticipation.

He knew! How could he possibly know? Billy had never spoken of this to anyone. It was his deepest secret. Could he say it? He looked at the ring held between two of Morten’s knobby fingers, “Edmund.” Billy whispered, “I want Edmund too.”

As the evil that called itself Morten walked out of the barn, it smiled, and this was a smile of pure evil, filled with the certainty of suffering to come.

He hadn’t started by killing people, of course. But as soon as he put that ring on, people reacted to him differently. He couldn’t make them do what he wanted, not exactly, but now they seemed inclined to listen to him rather than ignore him. Billy didn’t know why or how, and he really didn’t care. The very next day, when he saw Marian, she talked to him. She smiled at him. And when Roland and Edmund came to beat him up, instead they decided not to. That day Billy had seen Edmund looking at him too, really looking at him, and Billy had smiled one of those secret smiles like the smile he had seen on Morten’s face.

Day by day, things changed for Billy. Day by day he got those things he wanted, and if he took them at others expense? Well, hadn’t that been Billy’s lot in life? Hadn’t he suffered for years? Now it was his turn. His time. His Da noticed the changes, and Billy found himself fighting at home. Why would his Da not see? Billy was finally happy. He had Marian, and soon he was sure he would have Edmund too. Why couldn’t his Da be happy for him? They argued bitterly and slowly Billy felt a new hatred growing in him.

On the day he took Edmund, he heard the voice for the first time. It wasn’t words, not at the start, instead it was more a luxuriating in the experience. Almost like a second version of Billy that lived deep inside him. A version of Billy that wasn’t afraid to let go, to take everything he wanted. Billy had let that version of him take over. When he finished, as he looked at Edmund’s bruised body, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had gone too far.

As Edmund slipped out, Billy thought maybe he was making a mistake. He lifted his hand before him and looked at his ring. It had all started with this ring. That was when everything had started going his way. He was finally happy. He was, wasn’t he? Marian was his, but she wasn’t anything like he had imagined. She was empty inside. And Edmund? What about Edmund. Billy had hurt Edmund. And Billy’s Da? They used to be so close but now Billy nursed a growing hatred for him. Billy grabbed the ring, intending to tug it off, to throw it away.

“But Billy.” a silky voice had come, whispering quietly in his mind, “You are forgetting what they did to you.” As the voice purred in his mind, images came with it. Roland and Edmund teasing him. Beating him. Day after day. Everytime Billy turned around. He couldn’t escape them. Then more images, Roland hitting his sister. Roland hitting his Da. Had that happened? Billy didn’t remember that happening. But before he could grab the thought there were more images. Roland hitting Marian. Roland hitting Edmund. Roland. Always Roland. Roland was to blame for everything! Within him, a burning rage. Roland would pay.

Roland had been the first victim. Billy killed him the same day he heard the voice for the first time. He had been the first, but not the last. The second Billy, the one that lived deep inside him, enjoyed what they had done to Roland. The days became a blur, and Billy found his inner self, what he had come to think of as his true self, asserted itself more and more. Finally, when he had grown tired of Marian, he had let that inner Billy have its way with her. He discarded her lifeless body in a cave next to what remained of Roland’s rotting carcass.

Standing there, in the mouth of the cave, gazing down at the body of his two victims, the inner voice had been pleased. Strangely, Billy thought, his inner self was not pleased about the killings, oh, it had enjoyed them, but no, it was pleased by something else. Looking at what remained of Roland, it was certain that animals had gotten at the body. That pleased the inner voice. It purred that Billy would need to bring more bodies to the pile. The wolves, it whispered, the wolves would need to learn there was food here.

“Wolves?” Billy had thought. “Why would I care about wolves?” but before he could dwell on it, images rose in his mind. His Da yelling at him. His Da hitting his Ma. Hitting his sisters. Worse. Billy shook his head. He was pretty sure his Da had never hit anyone in his life. But still the images, and then the voice, that inner voice, telling him to get revenge.

Day by day that pile of bodies had grown. His Da. His ma. His sisters. Edmund. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the wolves had come.

Part 2. The Thing

The Thing that was inside Billy groaned with ecstasy as it slid the knife beneath the animal’s skin. The creature’s body thrashed beneath Billy’s hands even as its warm blood washed over Billy’s fingers and its wonderful cries of agony filled Billy’s ears. Such raw, undiluted pleasure left the Thing trembling in euphoria. Billy’s mouth opened in a wordless cry as the Thing finished. It had so desperately needed this. The humans it killed were so tedious, so mundane. Unlike many of its kind, who preferred them, the Thing knew better. It found animals far more satisfying. Humans could not help but interrupt their song with pitiful weeping and begging. Animals though. Billy’s mouth groaned with its pleasure. No, nothing compared to the pure, unmarred symphony of suffering that an animal produced. How the Thing preferred beast to man.

A sound caused it to lift Billy’s head and peer out through Billy’s eyes. A man approached. The man was old, his body gnarled and twisted like the branches of a juniper tree. A dirty beard of white and gray tumbled away from his wrinkled face where eyes of black charcoal looked at the Thing. The man leaned heavily upon a gnarled wooden staff. Behind him, a mule trailed along dutifully, tethered by a leash held in one hand.

The Thing prostrated itself before the First, who came to a halt a few steps from Billy’s body. “Great One.” it hissed through Billy’s mouth.

The old man rested a hand on Billy’s head and tousled his hair. “I trust you are satisfied with our bargain.” he said to the boy.

The Thing receded and Billy gasped suddenly, “Morten? Please Morten!” He begged, “Help me!”

“Help you?” Morten replied, confusion tingeing his voice, “Why Billy, I did help you. I gave you exactly what you asked. Everything you dreamed of.

“But…” Billy stammered. “But this isn’t…” he trailed off.

“Ah, sometimes Billy, sometimes what we ask for and what we want isn’t as we thought.? Morten then looked at the Thing that was inside Billy and said, “We’re done with Billy. I have new prey for you.” He turned his head west, towards where he could feel the land rejoicing as the voidscar receded. “There will be some folk coming along behind me. I want you to,” for a moment Morten stopped speaking, a smile crossing his face, “play with them.”

The Thing panted through Billy’s mouth as it surged to the front again, “Yes, Great One.” It said in a strong, husky voice. “I will do as you ask.” It could see them now, they were coming and it could see them. It could feel them. In its mind, it already heard them as they suffered. It began making plans as it scurried away from the old peddler.

---

The old man who sometimes called himself Morten, but always thought of himself as Varanal, watched the Thing move down the road. As he did, he smiled. It was a secret smile, full of malice and hatred. It had begun. The beginning of the end.