Elliot: A Hellraiser Story

The Invitation

Captain Elliot Spencer lurched from the bar, head spinning with drink and his legs feeling like they belonged to someone else. It was seven years since that day on the fields of Flanders where he'd lost his soul; seven years and another world away. He had remained in the army after the Great War, and had spread his own brand of Hell across every country he'd visited in the years since. He'd lost his innocence on those fields in France, his soul torn from his flesh on the anvil of war. Now he was the hammer that broke men in the crucible of battle, and the army had been pleased to use his dispassionate talents all across Eastern Europe, Africa and Asia. He had left little but atrocity in his wake.

Now he was in India, putting down uprisings against the Empire. It was police work, but still offered the opportunity for the release of his cold, calculated fury. His name was feared on the streets of Agra, Delhi and Calcutta, where he had smashed skulls and burned down hovels in the name of Empire and the King. He felt no guilt for his actions or for those he'd killed in pursuit of his duty. He was incapable of guilt, or sorrow, or grief. He was a blank, a black hole where a man of feeling used to be.

He stumbled on through the streets in the direction of the barracks, which were hidden behind walls in a district on the outskirts of the city. There could be trouble for returning back so late, and so drunk, but Captain Spencer was beyond caring. All he wanted now was his bed and a few hours' sleep to clear his spinning head.

"Sahib! Sahib, please," a man called in hushed tones, the sound coming from the depths of an alleyway between two buildings. Elliot looked in the direction of the voice, searching the shadows and finding nothing there. "Sahib! Sahib come. Just a moment please, officer sahib."

"What do you want?" Spencer called into the shadows, taking a step toward the alley.

"Hush, please. Not so loud. Come, come," the voice insisted.

Elliot took a tentative step into the gloom, one hand on the service revolver at his hip. He knew that soldiers had been attacked and killed in the streets while drinking in the towns, and he didn't intend to number himself among them. He searched the alley and the man stepped forward, his feet silent in cloth slippers. He wore a voluminous robe which fluttered and billowed at his ankles in the light breeze, his long hair combed back into a ponytail and his beard cropped close to his cheeks. He smiled, showing two gold teeth among the white.

"What do you want?" Elliot asked again, keeping close to the mouth of the alley.

"You are looking for entertainment, officer sahib?" the man whispered. "I have such entertainments, such women with pussies like honey, such sights for only a few rupees."

"I'm not interested," Spencer said flatly, turning to leave.

"Ah, the girls don't interest you, sahib? I have boys too. Young boys with tight asses... and such mouths... They would interest you better?"

"You have nothing that would interest me," Spencer grunted, moving away from the alley and heading down the street.

"You are a man with more delectable, discerning tastes. I see that now," the man said, his voice simpering as he hurried to keep up with the Captain's long stride. "Even the most... unusual desires... can be found, if you know where to look. I know of such places, sahib. I know places where everything is possible and nothing is taboo."

"Anything?" Spencer asked, stopping and eyeing the man with appraisal.
"Anything at all. Name your pleasure and it can be provided. Nothing will be denied," the man grinned sheepishly, his eyes narrow and calculating. "A few rupees can buy you anything you want, without question or query. Meet me here tomorrow at this time. You'll see that I tell you only the truth."

The man walked away, heading back down the alley and leaving Elliot to wonder. He walked on, sobered by the strange encounter and intrigued by the invitation. He wandered back to the barracks, unchallenged by the soldiers on gate duty, and headed to bed to a sleep filled with strange dreams.