The Bad Seed

"Goddamn it," he screamed. "This had better not be poison ivy. I am not spending the next few weeks with sores all over my butt!"

The guide laughed heartily at him. He probably knew exactly what was right there when I wandered over here to take a dump. He did live right at the town at the bottom of the hill after all. He told him he went up this hill two or three times every winter and every other weekend during the warmer seasons. This hill sucked royally. The whole town of Royalton, Vermont sucked as far as Donald Arlington the Fourth was concerned. He frankly had never left Connecticut before and never wished to do so. That crappy little town did not even have a hotel at all never mind one worth staying in. He had to stay further towards the border of New Hampshire just to find anyplace at all. The place he did find was a low price chain in White River Junction Vermont that was far below his standards. The entire area was so far beneath him it was unbelievable. He had to drive nearly thirty minutes just to get to the crappy spot where he began this hike up the hill. The final straw was the fact that he had to pay this granola-crunching fruitcake to walk him up this hill. He despised everything about this chore. It was highly probable that his vast wealth and life of luxury was also over after this little task. He could take some consolation though in the fact that his actions would bring about the end of the world. He thought of that little bit of vengeance as he wiped his rear and pulled his sweatpants up.

"How much further there, Skippy?"

The guide looked back at him with a very thinly veiled disgust.

"We are more than half way Mr. Arlington. I really wish you would just address me by my name. I told you it is Darrell."

He hid his distaste well. He of course had good cause to hide it. Arlington was paying him five hundred dollars just to guide him to the top of a 3-mile hill not far from town. He did not know of course that the money would be basically worthless after Donald got to the top of this hill. He would be disappointed of course but no more disappointed than Donald himself. Donnie knew his duty that didn't mean he had to like it.

The Arlington family had had six generations of wealth and prosperity because of the pact. He just did not understand why he could not have lived and died in lovely affluence like his ancestors. He would have loved to leave this task to some little bastard he fathered in the next few years. The Arlingtons never really cared for any children they made per se, but the made sure to spray their seed as much as possible so there would be an heir to the pact. The father would then let the son in on the little family secret around puberty. The son would then wait with anticipation for the inheritance when dear old dad died. There was nothing in the pact that said Dad had to go naturally, there just had to be a live male. After all Donnie's dad made the un-Arlington mistake of making an heir before he was retirement age and look where that got him, skiing accident. It was a one in a million chance of skiing into a bullet that went astray in the small overlap between ski season and hunting season. It was a true tragedy.

The deal was simple. The family was somehow destined to open the gate to the darker dimensions at just the right time. The black tree Rhogog could the sprout from the seed he carried in an oak box in his backpack. The tree would block the gate for all his brethren. The world would be remade in their image. That sucked. He would much rather just keep living the good life of drugs, booze, women, and nice cars. He was at best going to end up as some errand boy priest in a nightmare world now. It sounded like work. Work sucked. The agreement between the Old Ones and his family was quite clear though. He was done with his favored life either way. The wealth and extravagance would disappear in a matter of days if he failed his task and every other minion of darkness would target him for capture and torture. He might as well do as he was supposed to now that the sign had come and be on the winning side.

"Does it always smell so funny out here?"

The guide stopped short not expecting to hear anything from the rich client now that the complaints subsided. "Well sir, that is what good, old-fashioned Vermont fresh air smells like. This is God's country you know."

He smirked at the ridiculousness of the statement. If it was truly God's country, why would a gate to a place worse than Hell be less than a half a mile further up this hill? Very soon, the air would stink of fetid slime and creatures beyond this hippy queer's imagining would blanket the earth. Then of course he would have to answer to someone or rather something. It was some consolation though that he would rule over every living thing on earth that wasn't over a million years old. He wondered how the beasts would change the earth. Would the changes be so horrible that even he would be miserable? The question was moot now most likely. He was getting nauseous thinking about it. It did not help that he was not in any kind of shape to be climbing hills near sunset in autumn either. He had a schedule to keep but it seemed like they had plenty of time judging by the remaining light in the sky. He would need to stop again if he wasn't going to fall over.

"I need a rest. This hill sucks."

"No problem, you're paying. I just need to get you there by sundown so we can get back down. I have a killer Halloween party to go to at ten o'clock." The guide was an attractive man in that way the stereotypical Hollywood gay men are attractive. He was extremely well groomed and looked like he worked out at least once a day for several hours. The clothes he wore were top of the line and well kept but obviously used for outdoor sports and activities. He was essentially everything that Donnie was not. He probably belonged to some "Save the Planet" club and voted to the left. It wasn't like he came out and told Donnie he was gay or wore a rainbow flag pin or anything. Donnie just assumed he was queer because of what he looked like, acted like and well they were in Vermont.

"How much longer do we need to walk anyway, Darrell?"

"Well sir, I think we should be there in another ten or fifteen minutes if you want to get going soon."

"This hill sucks. This state sucks. These trees and rocks all suck. I am still trying to figure out if you suck, Darrell."

"Whatever you say, sir. Are you ready to get going? I would like to get this done and get the other half of my money sooner rather than later."

"Yeah, whatever."

He had no idea that the other half of the money was meaningless. Darrell's fruity butt would be the first to be devoured by the Old Ones when they came through the portal. He was going to a party all right just not the one he thought he was attending. Donnie could not think of a better person to be the first victim: gay, leftist, tree hugging, granola eating, and scum bag hiker. He actually felt some satisfaction in the impending apocalypse as he considered this. The kept walking for about ten minutes and he was starting to see that they were nearing the top. He could finally just be done with this crap. If his life of happiness and fortune was going to come to an end it might as well just be over with. In a few minutes, at least he wouldn't have to look at all this crappy nature either. Birds, leaves, and frigging streams were everywhere. He hated each and every ancestor of his who spent their life in luxury because of this crappy pact and got to die before payment was due.

They came over a small ridge of the hill and it was there. The top of the hill was littered with ancient menhirs, the ancient standing stones. The pattern was meaningless to almost anyone who had not read ancient texts that few, maybe no one but his family possessed. The center had the tumulus right where it should be. All he had to do was go to the tumulus and place the seed in the mound of dirt and rock. Once the seed was in place there were actually very few words which had to be spoken, really only a short sentence in the Old Ones language. It was ludicrous how easily the end of the world would come.

He stumbled forward and fumbled with his knapsack to get the box with the seed. He fumbled with it until he got it out and removed the seed. He opened the box and looked at the seed for what was actually the first time. The entire line of his family actually never looked at the seed. No one wanted to think about whether he would be the one to have to do the deed. It wasn't that they were concerned with ending the world; they just did not want their personal dream life to be brought to an end by having do actual work which ended in their affluence fading. He actually felt slightly excited when he saw it. He was about to change the world, granted he was probably destroying it. It was unavoidable though, right now he was the most important human being on the face of the earth. It was humorous to consider though that nobody else knew it, not even the fairy that guided him up the hill and now stood yards away.

He took the seed out and reached to press it toward the tumulus. He began the incantation as he reached forward. He heard a shuffling behind him, obviously the guide wondering about his weird behavior. He wouldn't have to worry for long.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Donnie turned just in time to see the machete cutting through the air. He really wasn't sure what to think as it thumped into the left side of his chest. The blow was powerful enough in its own right to take him off his feet. The blade went deep but came out cleanly as he slumped to the ground.

"You know Donnie, you are a real ass. You spent your entire life doing nothing but being a wart on the face of the human race. If that wasn't bad enough knowing you were actually going to go through with ending life as we know it. I had to actually see that stupid seed before I used lethal force. I need to let you know that a side effect of being an inherited guardian of existence is telepathy. I know everything you thought since we met. You should know that even if you didn't have the seed it would have been a favor to the world if I made you disappear on this hill. I am well groomed because the vows I took include immaculateness of appearance. I am in excellent shape because we train our whole lives, day after day, so we will not fail in that one moment when we must end a threat. I am in fact gay, but every thing you judged me on has absolutely nothing to do with that. You are very likely as much a monster as what would have come out of that portal had I let you plant the seed. I am glad that as a paladin of light I have the privilege of removing you from this earth."

Donnie looked up in disgust at Darrell. It was obvious that there was no repentance even in his last moment. Darrell raised the machete and brought it down on his neck severing his grimacing head from his body. Darrell then rolled both the head and the body toward the base of the tumulus. He turned and walked away. He paused as if there was something he forgot though. The seed slipped from Donnie's hand onto the tumulus and mixed with the blood flowing from his empty neck. The seed sunk into the earth as Darrell turned horrified. Mere seconds after the seed sank the great dark tree sprouted in full from the ground. The portal was open!

Darrell braced himself. He was all that stood between Earth and the full force of the Old Ones. The tree held the portal open. A large tentacle which seemed like a squid's came through first. It had a large eye on the end surrounded by horrible barbs and hooks. It swept around looking at what was around the gate as if assessing the situation. It saw Donnie's corpse and shook. Darrell prepared himself to fight. The tentacle whipped back into the hole.

A voice whispered through the air, "He was really a bag of turds, not really our first choice either. We will find another. You and yours better be ready, paladin!"

The tree shot back down through the earth. The gate closed. The seed popped up through the earth. Darrell ran to grab it but it blew off on a wind that stank of dead things. The seed disappeared into the air.

He turned and began to walk down the hill. He did after all have a killer party to go to and it looked like if he walked fast he could just about make it.

THE END

Bio: Ed Sullivan is an enthusiastic newcomer to getting published. He has been writing fiction for twenty five years. He has taken the leap just recently and begun submitting. He raises his daughter, works, writes, and spends time in his own strange thoughts most days. His last Aphelion appearance was Far Darrig in our April, 2014 edition.

E-mail: Ed Sullivan