1 Ch1: Black Dog

His eyes opened to heavy mist collapsing over him as a war between wind and water raged. Jet black clouds overflowed the sky and vicious waves crashed like hands clapping at flies. His feet hung free, floating above the water, and James knew, though this place couldn't be more than a dream, every inch of it was a growling animal; it was somehow reaching for him. His chest was pulled forward, lulling arms and legs back gently, as his face bowed to the insane waters below. They crashed and spat without mercy; then a calm began, as all sounds quieted - then stopped. Waves still bit and ripped just beneath his nose, but not a drop hit him; not now, while 'she' was close. Slowly drifting closer to the surface, a bowl formed in the water; like a reverse bubble, held there for him to see her.

A beautiful face emerged from the water. A sleek, pale nose, held gently by soft, rose-kissed cheeks, and lightly pinched between large, closed lids; greedily hiding precious emeralds. Followed by the subtle bounds of her everloving lips. Her face was the most compelling thing he had ever witnessed in his life; seeing it only once before, in photographs. That wonderous memory of a woman was incredible; not just for it's beauty, but because It's the face of James' mother; the mother he killed.

Those greedy lids, slowly shattered through the middles and released that intoxicating green; those incredible, priceless emeralds. Burning tunnels through his eyes, they scorched their paths with love, and compassion. Concepts so alien to the boy, that they nearly hurt to receive, and he cried; as if he knew he could never truly feel them. She spoke, and her voice flowed out; caressing his ears, playing with his hair, and tickling his nose. What words she spoke didn't matter, not until that merciful voice became impatient, and angry. Those priceless emeralds winced with anguish, and the face screamed with caution; filling his ears with a message he'd only remember once he woke.

The warning was given, and the face calmed to a concerned frown, then fell back into the calm bowl beneath the Boy's face. The force holding that bubble collapsed and every snarling sound resumed at once. James fell, as if his puppet strings were cut, and water filled his lungs as he plunged. There was a panicked silence as he submerged; kicking and waving to flip himself right side up, and for a moment, James looked down into the dark and knew what was down there, wanted him more than the clouds and winds above. Every inch of this world, clawing at him. He looked up to the surface and saw something floating.

A calm valley between waves exploded as James' upper body lunged out from beneath the slick black water onto the floating mass, and he felt 'matted fur'. He discovered his new life preserver is a dead Black Dog with a massive hole in its belly. James unwillingly rotated the carcass, turning the gaping wound upward, dumping water; revealing the thick soup of maggots which lived within. The dog's face was writhing and twisted. More maggots fell like rice out of its mouth, and another dutifully found its way out, past its eyelid, tumbling into the water. James yelped a sour mix of disgust and fear. Before he could even begin to release it, the rotting beast threw it's head back towards him; snapping at his hands with desperate bites. In shock, he fell beneath the water again, only to wake up in his bed, drenched in sweat, with hands squeezing his arms to his torso. Those hands shook the collapsing waves from his body, and the black, souless clouds from his mind; leaving only his mother's face and her warning, "Forget him, Save yourself."

The hands belonged to James' older brother Kevin, who happened to be sixteen years old as of today. James, who was three years younger than his older, "wiser" brother, was barely sat up when Kevin gave him a shot in his bicep. "Morning! What d'you say asshole?" Finally catching his breath from Kev's loving wake-up, James mumbled "Happy Birthday, Kev'." while rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. "Why, thank you good sir!!" Just then Kev's train of thought visibly stopped, then started full speed as he remembered why he actually came downstairs from his attic room to bother his little bro.

"Dude! you gotta hear about what went down on Friday! I just heard some older guys talking about it outside. You know 'The Grand' right?" James' finished with his eyes, had a big yawn, and was headed to the bathroom to start his routine. Kev followed to continue, "Cops were called, and it turns out there was a freakin' CULT doing some heebie-jeebie type shit in there. Said it was some sort of 'ritual-stick' sacrifice." As those words hit James' ears, wonder passed his eyes and "Whoa." was all Kev heard from his toothpaste-foamed mouth; but he knew he had impressed him. Proud of himself, he continued, "Yeah-- pretty cool shit. Tell ya what; we'll go check it out after bowling if you want. I'll tell Dad I went the long way."

Kevin leaned against the doorframe, 'rebel without a cause' style. His adolescent gut folded over his Camo pajama pants, hanging just above his ankles after years of loving service. The 10-hour gaming sessions, the Lord of the Rings fully extended marathons, and the one time he wore them everyday for a whole summer; only leaving the house for more Mountain Dew, or when Father kicked them out for "fresh air".

Those times outside were all too often spent on their handheld games. James brought his, only to apease Kev, as he actually loved what sports and games he got to play at school, but Kevin always made it clear that moving when you didn't have to, 'trying' to do what you probably can't, and competing in general, was a waste of time. " 'Cool guys' never 'Try', they only 'Do', and what they do, is whatever the Hell they want." Whatever that means.

The boys agreed to what Kevin was calling their 'Haunt Jaunt' and went about their mornings.

After getting clean and dressed for the day, (sporting a sex pistols T-shirt, black shorts and his beloved 'Dark Side of the Moon' hat.) James went outside first, saying bye to their Father, who was too busy giving Kevin his special Birthday Breakfast to notice. He had to leave the house first so Father wouldn't know Kevin brought him.

Kev's had a day at the HyperBowl bowling alley every birthday for 6 years. The first time, on his tenth, none of Kev's "friends" came. He wrongfully blamed that on their Father, who sat and drank; getting loud and nasty with the employees and cheering Kevin on every shot. That afternoon consisted of 'newly 10' Kevin sobbing and throwing fits because James beat him. "You just had to be a greedy little shit didn't ya, Jack? Couldnt just let your big brother win one on his birthday. God you're a fucking sickness." Turning to comfort the birthday boy, the boys' father continued. "Kevvie? Lets go buddy. I'll get you an icecream cake." From there they went to Cream King for his treat. Father and 'Kevvie' sat in a booth taking up a side each, leaving James to eat his cone at the table across from them. Father then discussed Kevin going to the Alley by himself next year if he wants, and also that James isn't to come, no matter what. "Dont need a sore winner. Just get your bestfriend-- or shit! All your friends! They all got parents to leech money from right?" Their sitting arrangement that afternoon was a perfect metaphor for their relationship as a "family", and stayed in James' mind as a reminder.

Little did Father know, Kevin's never really had a best friend, or any friend for that matter; so James would come all the same. He wandered down the street to the cornerstore and waited. James hated this store. The owner was a dick; some foreigner Kev called, 'Baduli'. Probably just the best nickname an unpracticed bigot could come up with on the fly. He was middle eastern, smelled worse than terrible, and other than junkfood and smokes, sold burnt movies and ancient porn. James paced the storefront with his head down far enough that "Baduli" wouldn't see James' Pink Floyd hat, bobbing back and forth nervously.

This 'Haunt Jaunt' business had James' shaking. Not scared, just a creepy feeling of excitement. He imagined walking into the place: dark and dismal, with echos of hatred or power. He imagined finding a huge, melted wax pentagram, traced with candles and knives. Perhaps, an evil book still sprawled on the floor; bound in human flesh and all that. Maybe even some blood from the sacrifice. That's what really held him, 'sacrifice'. "What in the fuck were they sacrificing; or who?"

Kevin soon swung around the corner bouncing like an old disney toon. "Fucking guy gave me a hundo! A fucking hundo!! Brown bill, bitch. Yeah!" "'Fucking guy' is right"; James muttered. Father was especially ignorant of James today. As he was any day, but today was special for 'Kevvie', so James was invisible. In Teddy Morte's mind, he was an exemplary father to both of his sons. Kevin, his first, he treated with mountains of kindness and respect; and his second, James, he gave his beloved first son's attention, and guidance. For that, he was lucky enough. "You owe your brother the world for all the time he spends with you; making sure you dont fuck everything up." He say sternly, smacking the back of "Jack's" head. He loathed The Boy for a reason he had yet to accept, even after all these years: that Boy had taken his beautiful Betty away.

It was February 5th, 1993, and the Morte family home was dead. Little Kevvie was sound asleep in his blue racecar bed, silently pissing his sheets in content. Teddy was downstairs, in his throne, beer in hand, snoring with his head snapped back like a PEZ. He spent most nights downstairs since his pregnant Queen started sleep-kicking in her second trimester. He loved her dearly, and never even told her about the kicking. He just made excuses as to why he hadn't come to bed each night. Teddy loved his life; he had an amazing little boy, a beautiful loving wife and a precious little baby on the way.

Betty had spent the last few weeks in bed, usually in great pain, struggling to do anything as her pregnancy had become unexplicably painful. No doctor they had seen could figure out the complication, and all voted for bedrest, and the good old "waiting game". With his wife in need, Teddy grew used to jogging upstairs to serve cold cups of water, or fresh pillows, when she called. He knew sweet baby James was coming any day now, so he did all he could to keep her happy until then. He was a perfect husband and an even better father to Kevin. He loved them both dearly, but Betty was the source of all his meaning. She was his light, his perfect future, and wonderful past.

Midnight came, with chaos as a guest. Betty stirred, then let out a scream like she was being cut in half as her water broke, spilling blood and fluids deep into the sheet and mattress beneath. Sitting up, still emptying her lungs as hard as her body would allow, she called for Teddy; for the last time. Ted fell out of his chair, and in a flash, was already beating the stairs with his socked feet. He ripped his bedroom door open and flicked the light switch revealing the almost black pool of blood slowly soaking the bed, and the wet, snake-belly trail, that led his eyes to Betty; who was leaning against the wall crouched over. Shaking and babbling. He couldnt believe his eyes and for a moment, he couldnt move. Betty's head whipped back as a jolt of pain stole her, and she howled as if all the bones in her body shattered at once.

Three year old Kevin woke to his mother's horrifying call and walked to his door; too scared to notice his pyjama pants sticking to his ass from his accident. He pulled the door slowly, then something whipped by. His Daddy, of course; Mommy called him. Rushing into the hall with Betty still screaming in his arms, Teddy noticed a terrified little boy trying to make sense of what must be a living nightmare. "Go get your Shoes and coat on, Buddy!!" Betty moaned, hardly knowing where she was; let alone who was talking, and little Kevin just stared at her. "Come on buddy! Please! Downstairs, and get your shoes on." Little heels stuttered and slipped on steps and his hands and back caught his fall. Velcro shoes went on opposite feet and a coat was wrapped and then squeezed around his small body.

The street was a perfect picture streetlight peace before Teddy and his family burst out of their house painted red. They rush to the car, doors opened, and Kevin was plopped carefully into the front seat where a seatbelt soon hugged his chest and waist. He wrapped his head around to see his mother screaming in pain. He closed his eyes and clasped his ears as his father screamed that everything would be ok. Soon his mother was silent, and wouldn't make another noise for the rest of her short life.

At 1:34am February 6th, 1993, James Wallace Morte was born to his father Theodore Morte, who was too busy mourning his wife, to even hold his new baby boy. Teddy was sent home with a son in each arm, and began a slow decline into a special sort of madness. One where the one true villain in his life was a child, who murdered his beautiful Queen, leaving the King cursed to do the boy's bidding until his inevitable death, at the hands of his terribly evil offspring.

When the Morte brothers entered the convenience store, James noticed Baduli was especially busy today. Sandals strapped on dusty, cracked feet sat folded on the plexiglassed lottery tickets, and a hindi movie played behind the counter, while he shouted on the phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. The boys went back for a can of pop each, and arrived at the register unnoticed. "Strip o' tickets, please." Kevin said, fighting back the urge to laugh noticing he was reading a 'nudie' mag just out of view. Baduli folded his magazine, dropped his nasty feet beneath him, almost sitting up, and reached below to grab the tickets. "..and a twenty pack of Joker's, 'RED'."

Kevin had been buying packs of smokes from Baduli for a few weeks now. Handing most of them out to "friends" behind the school during breaks. He'd usually get a, "Hey, thanks, weirdo." then, whoever just scored a smoke off the greasy fat kid, would continue their conversation with someone more interesting. It was more so just a reason to be close to people; though he'd never admit it. Baduli handed the smokes and tickets to him, and Kevin was already holding out his "brown bill".

The boys started walking towards the bus stop, where they waited only a few minutes; drinking their pops. Getting on the bus, it was hard not to notice the mangy crackhead "tweaking" just two seats from the front. A few people, 'normal' people were sitting or standing, here and there, headed to work, or out shopping. But her, she was just along for the ride. She was already spitting nonsense when they passed her; swinging arms and a foot out as she ranted. "Now YO the dumb bitch, BITCH. He aint even mine! That MAN was gon EAT ME. IM JUST GON EAT MYSELF. Then you can pis'off and get them papers!! OR I EAT YOU TOO. God damn coward bitch. Fuckin' angry huh? Angry BITCH!" She didn't seem to run out of air; Yanking nappy hair and scratching at her neck and knees. The bus driver seemed completely oblivious. This kind of patron was all too common in Hamilton; especially downtown.

James was reminded of a trip to a burger joint with Father and Kevin, where the only stall in the bathroom was held up by a homeless guy. When the Boy first entered the bathroom, the man was just closing the stall door to the toilet with a slam. James was turning to leave, when he saw the man was growling with frustration taking off his clothes. A shirt hit the ground, then his pants boots and undies; which he kicked off like they were on fire. James went to his Father who then, entered the bathroom with hate on his heels. He came back out with the hobo, hanging from his tshirt which he hadn't been allowed to put back on fully. He was drenched in sweat and looked like he was being chased by ghosts. Now, on the bus with Kevin, he watched this woman, who seemed to be 'talking' to hers. "Angree biiiittcchh" Kevin mocked quietly into James' ear and they both laughed under hand. Hopping off the bus, Kevin shouted, "Later, Cracky! ANGREEEE BITCH!!" They laughed loud and long, wandering down the street to Hyperbowl.

"So this cult .. Do you know what they were sacrificing?" The Boy watched as his older brother thought back, honestly. "Well the guy said there was an ambulance, and that the call was a complaint about screams and chanting." "Do ambulances come when it's just a disturbance?" James asked, thinking hard himself. "I dont think so." Kevin seemed troubled, but heavily interested. "I wonder if we would actually find anything.. if we were to break in.." James smiled; telling his brother all he needed to know. Kev looked up at the HyperBowl sign when he remembered they had to be back when he'd normally be done at the Alley. "Well we wont really have time to explore the Hotel if we bowl.. wanna skip it?" James' agreed, nodding his head. The boys passed HyperBowl and went on. The Grand was still a few blocks away, and they only had so much time.

The Grand was an old Hotel with a bar attached, which managed to last ten years longer than the Hotel itself, but had been long dead before the Morte brothers were even born. The Hotel portion was sold countless times for countless reasons. Most of them relating to the high population of "streetpeople" squatting; destroying or stealing all that was left from each decade the buildings heart was pumping. It hadn't been worked on in years, leaving it rotten and falling apart. Two very tall doors with long old boards nailed across it marked the 'grand' entrance, and to the left was the pub with a gated patio; all of which was surrounded by a short mean fence sporting a sharp crown of rust. The Grand sat at the bottom of what Hamiltonians called "The Mountain", which was really just the Niagara escarpment. The sugar coated rim to the age old sedimentary bowl the city was built in. For the last hundred years or so, its been a well bleached toilet seat, while downtown was something begging to be flushed.

The Grand must've been one of the first buildings marking the city when it came to bloom. As the city grew, people moved, and the factories replaced them. Now, in the middle of a baron industrial area. There isn't an occupied building that isn't a foundry, smelter or traphouse for almost four blocks. They didn't see a soul the whole walk. That is, until they saw Jacob Trope; hands on hips staring up at The Grand just a block away. Kevin saw him and split behind a nearby building to hide. Jacob happened to be the worst piece of shit to ever fuck with Kevin's life. Just the right kind of steel nasty to torment Kevin's usual mushy lameness. But he really liked James for some reason. "He only pretends to like you to piss me off." Kevin would say, getting up off the sidewalk.

Jacob turned his head and saw James. His face lit up like he was an old friend. "Jacky-boy! What's going on, guy? Where's that retard brother of yours?" James didn't miss a beat: "Back there taking a piss." Saying it soon enough Kevin would hear it. "Wicked; you boys wanna fuck around in the hotel with me? I hear some crazy shit about whats been going on in there lately." "We were gonna do that anyway. I'm stoked." Kevin emerged from behind the building after undoing his fly just to do it up in his bully's view.

Jacob stood 6'4, 160lbs, and was wearing one of his many black, metal band shirts, with a vivid graphic of a man eating guts out of an open torso and a completely illegible band name above. His jeans were black and tight, and his shoes were ripped sneakers, torn from boarding. Long, greasy red hair, eyebrow rings and a chain hanging from his wallet, made him look like the kind of guy who would kick the shit out of an old lady. "There you are, pillow-biter! How you been?" Kevin opened his mouth to answer, and Jacob stopped him, "That's a bitchin hat by the way Jacky." "Thanks." James replied, ignoring his brother's look. Jacob started to look impatient and said, "We doing this? The back door of the pub isn't boarded; we can get in there." Kevin led the way, speaking only once his back was to Jacob. "Lets get this over with."

Dust heavy as snow burst from the door as Jacob kicked it in. A blizzard of dust danced in the light and the boys walked in after Jacob, who couldn't seem to wait for the dust to settle. He ran up and kicked a beer bottle across the bar floor, smashing a glass pane that had fallen down against the wall from a boarded window. The bar was covered in the remains of a tacky sports dive; complete with hockey sticks and signed pictures, some of which were old photos of early Hamilton. Wallpaper and dusty busted trim lined the walls, and broken chairs and tables were flipped and piled at the far sides of the bar like shipwrecks crashed on jagged rocks. The hallway just past the bar leading to the hotel's lobby had a room on each side, both filled waist high with garbage and debris. One must've been a kitchen, and the other a supply room or pantry, as old kitchen supplies and bottles littered the massive piles of floorboards and glass.

The Grand's lobby was huge, and every step echoed. A chandelier's twisted carcass was lying in the centre on a dirty red rug, which looked almost black in some parts; stained with God knows what. Jacob ran ahead around the giant staircase leading to the rooms above. "Wooo!! I bet we'll find a fucking body!!" His voice rang in James' ears, and The Bully's words mirrored The Boy's thoughts. He followed Jacob like a zombie, looking around at the doors above. Kevin caught his shoulder and pulled him back to talk. "What's with kissing Jacob's ass? You know that guy is a fucking lunatic. He hates me." "I know, but he was coming in to look anyway. What would we have done? Hid until he had his way with the place? He'd probably burn it down." Kevin thought, and realized his little bro was probably right. "Alright.. but you fucking owe me one. This is a shit birthday."

"When you two are done thummin' bums get in here quick! Just found something I want to show ya!" Jacob's voice taunted through the house, like a killer calling out to his hidden prey. The Morte brothers looked at each other, then walked toward the call. Jacob was standing on a long wooden table surrounded by broken chairs. It was on an angle as if it was kicked aside. "Hope neither of you are pussies! One of you might lose your lunch!" He hopped off the table and ran ahead, stopping in the centre of the next room which looked like the ghost of a ballroom. James was expecting the pentagram he thought of earlier. Or maybe even a barely scrubbed bloodstain from the sacrifice, but instead, on the ground in front of him, lay a Black Dog, and The Boy couldnt believe his eyes; It was the same dog from his dream that morning. He couldnt see it yet, but he knew there was a massive hole eaten away on it's belly. Jacob was crouched down next to it holding a thin piece of trim. James wondered how the Dog had even gotten in there, when he noticed a hole where the trim was rotten and broken away in the bottom corner of the wall, followed by the heavy splatters of blood leading to the animal.

The dog's fur was matted, and it was probably out on its own for most of its life. It was dirty, and rotten, and once Kevin and james got closer, they saw it was breathing; despite the huge wound already infested with maggots. "Fucking sick, huh? And its still fucking breathing! What in the fuck even did this?!" Jacob spoke like a kid fresh out of a theatre playing his new favourite movie. "Probably a coyote." Kevin gulped. With his eyes wide, and fixed on the dog's face, he noticed it was moving with life; but not that of the dog's. Its skin rippled and sunk as the maggots burrowed and wrestled beneath. Jacob jabbed it with his sharp bit of trim and the dog's head whipped back snapping its mouth at the pain. Maggots fell from it's mouth as it closed, leaving some on its side; scrambling to find somewhere warm and wet. The dog's reaction startled Jacob and he pranced and giggled maniacally.

"What do you want to do with it!?" Jacob asked eagerly. Kevin answered, "We got to kill it; its the right thing to do." James wasn't surprised to hear this from his brother, since he's seen him kill a squirrel for the same reason. It was hit by a car, and Kevin just dropped a big rock on it to stop it from flopping around, trying to stand with a snapped spine. But this was no squirrel; this was a big, black, dog, with teeth. "Well how 'bout it, fat-ass? Ever killed something?" "Yeah, a few times." Kevin said this confidently, still staring at the dog. "Hmm, that's a shame, wanted to pop your cherry! That leaves you Jacky-Boy!! Ever killed something? What d'ya say?"

Nerves shot lightning like spiderwebs up James' back and stood every hair up straight. "...Me? Ok. With what?" "Whatever you want. Snap its neck if youd like." Jacob laughed at this, but Kevin still stood in the same spot, never shifting his gaze from the dog. James watched his brother for any sign of uncertainty and found none. His older brother felt "It's the right thing to do." The 'right' thing. James figured that's why he's so excited to do it. Suddenly, his mind flew, scanning ideas for how to end this dog's "struggle". He could break its neck; like Jacob said, or he could kick it in its ribs until they all shattered, piercing what was left of its organs. He didn't know what to do with himself: he was excited; practically buzzing, and right when he expected to feel bad, he felt good. He felt better than he ever had in his life. For the first time: He was in control; of his body, his mind, and that rotten, Black Dog.

Jacob was about to complain about James taking his 'sweet fucking time', when 'Jacky-boy' lifted his knee above his belt, swinging his arms back for balance, and used every muscle in his body to fire his boot like a hammer down onto the dogs head. Chunks and fluids scattered all around James' foot as he felt warm blood dot his skin like a sneeze. He felt the dogs skull brace then collapse below his foot. His stomp was halted by the dogs jaw which fell flat to the floor as flesh was crushed into bone, and bone into brain and tongue. Without thinking James continued to stomp, two, three, five times; until it was a soft puddle of juice and crumb. The Boy felt good; "..so fucking good."

"Holy fuck! well done, Jacky-Boy!! Didn't think you had it in you." James tried to hide his euphoria, but it glazed his face like a donut. He looked up from his gore covered shoe resting in the wake of the dogs head. "Yeah, fuck. Way to go." Kevin almost seemed disappointed he hadn't done it himself; noticing the way Jacob was praising his little brother. James however was on cloud 9. He had taken a life. Even though the dog was practically dead already, he felt powerful. He felt like a God; but most importantly he finally had done something with purpose.

James didn't stop talking about the dog on the way home. The Morte brothers said their goodbyes to Jacob, who patted James' back one last time, and tapped Kevin in the balls, reminding him that he'll see him at school; which was more of a threat than a goodbye. James, still vibrating told Kevin of his dream of the Black Dog, leaving out his mother, and her strange warning. The Morte brothers hadn't found any evidence of that mysterious cult, or their supposed sacrifice, but they managed to perform their own sacrifice; one of mercy. When they got home Father asked Kev how bowling was and how they managed to come home together. Kevin quickly told him he went to the park after bowling, where James had been hanging out, to walk him home. Father thanked him for checking in on his baby brother, and gave James a good smack on the back of the head as he entered the house. He didn't need a real reason these days, he'd smack him for breathing too much. But nothing could knock James down this evening; because today, James was a God, and a merciful one.