Riding with Moloch

As Richard Gough and Peter Lawwell outdid each other in the keeping cool under pressure stakes, I sat in the back sweating and keeping an eye on Jorg Albertz because I figured that I'd be fine as long as the Demon Hunter showed no sign of panic but when Neil Lennon stirred and his skull seemed to take on a life of its own, moving around under his skin as if something awful was trying to get out, and a drop of sweat ran down the back of Albertz's neck, well that's when I really began to worry.


Tar dribbled from Lennon's mouth and his sharpened teeth ground together and as we left the city centre and at last approached the west end, Albertz nudged me and motioned towards Lennon's hands which to my horror had seemed to grow talons: rough, grey things which sprouted from his fingers like twigs from a branch, with no discernable pattern but looking sharp enough to rip someone's face off. Then his head rolled to the side to face me and I shrieked as one eye opened, looked at me and then closed.
'What happened?' shouted Gough from the driver's seat.
'He looked at me, he opened his eye and looked at me!' I babbled as Albertz turned the head around and studied it as what looked like a knuckle stretched out of Lennon's forehead until the skin could strain no more and then it retreated back into the head leaving a red welt the only evidence it had happened.
'It's not good Captain,' said Albertz to Gough. 'You've got to speed it up or we're never going to get him to the safety of the magic circles in my flat. The demons will be awake in minutes.'
So Gough put the foot down and we raced past Byres Road and up Highburgh Road just as Lennon let out a growl and opened his eyes again for a few seconds before his head drooped once more as I strained to stop myself from soiling my pants.
'Cards on the table here chief,' shouted Albertz. 'Fuck the speed limit and fuck traffic lights, if we don't get out of this car now then we're all dead!'
And as he said it, Lennon opened his mouth in an obscene yawn - his razor sharp teeth bared and black with tar, his breath a yellow mist which caused us all to gag as Gough brought the car to a sudden halt.
'What the fuck?' cried a startled Albertz.
'Mummy!' screamed some coward sitting beside him which I realised was me.
'It's the police,' said Lawwell, looking in the mirror. 'They're behind us and the lights are at red.'
'Fuck the lights, fuck the police, if we don't move we're fucked!' roared Albertz as Lennon opened one burning eye that swivelled around before closing again.
'Sorry Jorg,' said Gough, keeping an eye in the rear view mirror and staying calm. 'If we cut a red then the cops will be onto us and how are we going to explain two ex-Rangers players, the Chief Executive of Celtic dressed as a Nazi and a discredited journalist in a car with an unconscious Neil Lennon? No, we wait. We have time, he's only stirring, not waking up.'
The car was silent save for the grinding of Lennon's teeth and the horrible noise coming from his arms and legs which sounded like bones twisting and breaking, muscle stretching and groaning. The car ticked over and the lights stayed at red. I looked at Albertz and he was really sweating now, his shirt soaked at the neck. I felt my corduroys dampen and hoped it too was sweat otherwise I'd be no better than Hugh MacDonald. Lennon's head turned again and eyes still shut, he lifted one hand and got it caught in the back of Lawwell's seat, one of the talons snagging in the material. I looked up at the lights and they were still at red, I turned and looked out the back and the police were sitting there behind us in their car, not interested in us. Not yet.

Lennon's hand raked the seat in front of him and came down on his own leg, piercing it and sending a jet of his blood squirting onto his face; his tongue flicked out, not a human tongue now but a black pointed tongue that licked up the blood from his chin and cheeks before disappearing back into that hideous maw.
'If you don't get moving Gough then I'm out, I'm sorry,' said Albertz.
I weighed this up - if Albertz was prepared to abandon the car then I sure as hell wasn't going to linger and I was just reaching for the door handle on my side when Lennon coughed and black vomit flew past Lawwell's shoulder and splattered the windscreen. Lawwell screamed at last, almost hysterically trying to get the bile off his pristine Wehrmacht jacket, Lennon's eyes opened and stayed open, I held onto the door handle and was just about to open the car door and throw myself out when the lights changed to amber and we took off, turning onto Clarence Drive with Albertz's flat on the corner of Lauderdale Gardens just ahead of us. We pulled in to the pavement and let the police car pass and then we were all out of the car, Gough and Albertz hauling Lennon behind them, his eyes still open but body thankfully unable to move. We bounded up the stairs, Albertz had the door open in a twinkling and we ran through the hall and into an empty room which had two magic circles painted onto the floorboards. Gough threw Lennon into one and Albertz got to work closing the circle with chalk at the one break in the pentacle and then we got into the other circle and he closed that one too just as Lennon woke up, stood unsteadily on his feet, looked at us, roared and pounced before being knocked on his arse by some unseen force.

'Fucking hell, that was close,' laughed Albertz then he sniffed and said, 'Is Hugh MacDonald in here, I'm sure I can smell shit?'