The Bleeding Man Season Three

By Lex Williams

WARNING: Contains high impact horror and mature themes. Discretion is advised.

The Bleeding Man is returned to a world changed in the months since the collapse of the Conspiracy. He must, once again, stand beside the Hanging Woman, Paul and Unbound to a face a greater threat to this world. A threat that beckons to one of the four ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lex Williams
• Release date: Mar 5, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311349941

Lex Williams

Lex Williams is a novelettist ( although occasionally writing novellas with the rare novel ) whose intent is to take advantage of self-publishing stories to provide interesting, different and weird ideas that you won't find in traditionally published stories. Williams typically writes for the horror genre ( usually dipping into the surreal variety ), but has explored other areas, such as ( non erotic ) romance and science fiction.

Book preview

Episode I 'King's Pawn Opening'

i

Smoke spiralled upward from the burning incense, drifting past the cluttered shelves. Gleaming relics were on display: masks, fetishes, shrunken heads. All fake, of course. It wasn't safe to display anything of real value, not in this part of town, not with the country seemingly on the verge of collapse.

Besides, it was more about atmosphere than genuine artefacts. Tourists wanted a little piece of something foreign; the moral implications of owning an authentic shrunken head, and the violence and magic that had gone into making it, were a little heavier than a vacation warranted. And there were always the regulars, looking for traditional medicine. That was something more real. Something a little less … ethically ambiguous.

Umut shuffled around the shop, moving jars containing various dried plants around. It was a pointless action – everything looked good as it was, and he could feel his wife's eyes watching him waste time – but it was a distraction. From the drop in the economy. From the martial law and the country baring down on its citizens. From the question his wife was about to-

Can you trust them?

Umut sighed. I don't know.

Then call it off.

Sehrazat, please.

She leaned against a table. I won't have people we don't trust ruining what we've got here. It's hard enough as it is.

I know. I work here, too.

What if those night police come knocking? What will we say?

We'll deal with that if it happens.

Sehrazat threw her hands into the air. It'll be a little late then.

Umut slammed a jar onto a table. The money came through.

… I still don't like it.

Too bad. They paid. He rubbed his face. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get angry.

Sehrazat wandered over to him and held him close. She whispered, I know. I'm scared too.

He rubbed her arm. I'm just- they paid a lot. We don't have to worry about sales for another month. He looked at her. We're obliged to at least try.

Three knocks echoed through the store. They held each other tight. Umut whispered, That'll be them. I'll get it.

ii

Hadassah looked up at the stars. You never really appreciate how much you'll miss something, until it's gone. She sighed.

Anass stopped the wheelchair. They were a few meters short of the function centre. Light spilled out from the windows along with muffled discussions and music. He leaned down to her. You alright?

Yeah.

We don't have to hang around for long, if you don't want.

Let's just get inside. It's freezing out here.

He kissed her on the cheek. Sure thing.

They entered and were greeted with a sudden cheer. Hadassah tried to smile, but there were too many conflicting emotions for her really enjoy it. The cheer died down and the two joined the party.

Anass whispered to her, You want anything?

That's alright. I'm fine. You enjoy yourself, if I need you I'll find you.

Are you sure?

She patted the side of the wheelchair. I can wheel myself around. Just remember, you're driving.

Alright.

Hadassah revolved the wheels, turning herself around. One man approached her. Hey, commissioner.

She looked up. Not anymore.

Sorry, old habits die hard.

She shook his hand. Good to see you, Nur. I look forward to seeing you drop those crime rates.

He laughed. Yeah, no pressure. It's not like I'm taking over after the first New South Wales female Police Commissioner who also happens to be the woman that brought down the Bleeders.

She patted his arm and smiled. Like you said, no pressure.

Hadassah glanced around the party. The sign hanging from the roof caught her attention. One word stung like the cold air drifting inside.

Retirement.

It didn't feel real. She was too young to retire, but you can't run a police force from a wheelchair. They won’t let you.

It all happened so fast.

***

Police officers stopped, stared and quickly got back to work as they noticed Police Commissioner Hadassah and Superintendent Yuuta wander through the station. As the Commissioner and Superintendent reached the television screen on the wall, they stopped to watch it. It showed an officer interrogating a suspect.

Hadassah glanced over to Yuuta. So, I see you've got some good equipment here.

He nodded. Yeah, but you know how it is. The problem isn't equipment, it's recruitment.

Go on.

We're losing officers to ASIO and the private sector. I had two more letters of resignation on my desk last month.

Hadassah glanced between him and the screens. Did they explain why?

No, but I know why. It's the martial law crap. We're getting hounded by the Feds and the military. Keeping the peace is harder now, and being suppressed just makes the crazies bolder, which puts us in more danger. It's safer in the private sector.

They can't be getting that bold.

Famous last words, Ma'am.

Hadassah raised her eyebrows. A gunshot rang throughout the station. The firing range was sound-proofed. It was coming from somewhere else.

Inspector Yuuta tapped the officer watching the television screen on the shoulder. Can you cycle through the cameras, please?

Yes, sir. The officer tapped the keyboard in front of him. The screen flickered as it changed from camera to camera. It stopped on the lobby.

The screen showed armoured figures in balaclavas entering the building. The officer at the desk was slumped over.

Yuuta's hand went to his gun. Alert the whole damn place!

Yes, sir.

Hadassah's gun was in her hand. Alarms blared as her instincts kicked in; muscle memory flicked the safety on her gun off. She spoke through the haze of adrenaline, Armoury?

This way.

They moved down the corridor, bumping past other officers who ran by. Hadassah stepped alongside Yuuta, she'd seen enough shit to know how overpowering fear could be – and had learned the willpower to stay in control.

They passed into an empty corridor and the lights shut off. Emergency lights blinked on and bathed the station in its violent glow. Yuuta took the lead, his gun half-raised. Hadassah watched his head flick about as he scanned the doors to the hall.

He glanced back. A head poked out of an adjoining room wearing a balaclava.

Hadassah heaved Yuuta through an open door to their side. They stumbled inside and collapsed onto the ground.

A cacophony of gunfire erupted, overpowering the alarms. Bullets tore through walls and rained debris and plaster onto Hadassah.

She looked up at Yuuta. Her legs wouldn't move. He stumbled into a desk as he pulled himself to his feet.

Her ears ringing, Hadassah didn't even register the sound of alarm. She crawled toward the her gun, lying further away. She grunted and glanced at Yuuta, who pointed his gun at her.

Then she felt a barrel press against the back of her head. Her eyes flicked to the side. Yuuta was shouting, the red glow of the lights made him seem like some sort of animal. A smirk creeped along his face.

Hadassah closed her eyes. The barrel against her head slipped to the side and a gunshot from in front of her was followed by a corpse collapsing onto her.

The ringing in her ears made it impossible to hear herself scream as she flipped over and fought back the limp, dead terrorist. It poured blood onto her through the hole in its head.

She screamed and flailed.

She screamed.

***

Hadassah closed her eyes and shivered. She could still feel the warm blood trickle down her back.

Nur glanced at her glassy eyes. Hey, you OK?

She shrugged. I just need a breath of fresh air.

… what?

Don't wait up for me.

Uh, OK.

Hadassah rolled toward the door and pushed it open. The cold air stung her lungs and flesh, reminding her she was in the present. She took several deep breaths.

Something moved in the corner of her eye. The bushes rustled in the wind. Was someone there? She could've quickly checked, and no-one would have noticed, but her stubborn wheelchair wasn't so subtle.

The last thing she needed was people looking at her like she was crazy. She wheeled herself back inside, feeling something’s eyes watching her.

iii

Umut glanced at his wife as he entered the store. She looked back, her brow furrowed. Then she saw them. An Aboriginal man, who appeared to be human, entered the shop, followed by a woman wearing a coat not quite long enough to conceal her tentacles, and finally a demon, a three meter tall, knuckle-walking thing with two large, pupil-less eyes and no mouth.

The Aboriginal man raised his hands to Sehrazat and her husband. It's OK, you can trust them.

The demon awkwardly made its way inside, crushing something with a crunch. I'm sorry. It spoke its thoughts without a mouth.

Umut turned around and waved his hand. Don't worry about it. It's fake.

Sehrazat stepped back into the bench behind her. Who are these people?

Umut walked over to her. It's alright. Trust me.

She stared at him. "I trust you."

Umut pointed at the Aboriginal man, who was wearing priestly garments. That man is called Paul.

Paul pointed at the other two. The woman in the coat is the Hanging Woman and the large fella is Unbound. It's OK, we're not going to hurt anyone. The money came through, didn't it?

Umut nodded. It did.

Sehrazat pulled Umut closer and whispered, Don't let them break anything else, please. We still need to make some sort of living.

Umut smiled. Sure. He turned to the others. You hear that? You break anything else, you deal with my wife.

The Hanging Woman turned to Unbound. The Daemon shrugged. I said I was sorry.

Words are powerful, but they won't cut it next time. He waved his hand. But, enough about that. You've got the knife?

Paul pulled out the knife from under his cassock. Right here.

Umut took it and held it up to the light. He stared at the design down its blade. I don't recognise the symbols exactly. He flipped the knife around. Although it looks similar to the cuneiform for Nergal.

Paul looked at his companions. They shrugged at him. What does the mean?

Ancient language for an ancient name of an ancient god. Umut placed the knife on a table.

So … can you do what you said?

Umut narrowed his gaze at Paul. Of course.

iv

The party drew to a quiet close. Bottles were binned. Hands were shaken. The room emptied.

Hadassah watched as the remains of her life in the police force filed out into the night. Friends, colleagues, years of experience all slipping through the doorway. She grabbed her cup from the table. It was a mess, plates of food and empty serving platters everywhere.

She glanced down at her cup. Empty. Like her future. Her fingers tightened around it. She swallowed the tears back down. The sound of the last few people stepping out echoed in the bare function centre.

Hadassah placed the cup down and turned around, wheeling herself to the window. She watched them chatting with her husband. The cold air drifted in from the open door.

Something was watching her. It had been from the beginning. Then again, she had been drinking. The silhouette of trees in the night looked like tall monsters, swaying back and forth mockingly.

The nearby bushes drifted together, their shadows merging into the shape of a face.

The door closed. Hadassah snapped toward it. God dammit, Anass. I've already been shot. You trying to finish me off?

Sorry.

She wheeled the chair around. What about the mess?

It's alright. I paid extra so we don't have to worry about it.

How much extra?

Anass walked to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. It's fine. It means we can go home now.

Yeah … Home. What even waited for her at home? A long life of just waiting for hers to end. Waiting for the rest of her life to file out of the door with everyone else.

He rubbed her shoulders. Did you want to go home now?

Sure.

Want another drink before we leave?

No.

Anass brushed his hand against her cheek. You can talk to me, you know?

She looked up at him. I know. I'm just tired.

He smiled. That's my wife. The steely ice queen.

I'll be damned if I'm going to start singing. Let's go.

v

Umut drew strange symbols on the table around the knife with chalk.

The Hanging Woman was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. What are you drawing?

Words in the ancient language I mentioned. He carefully