Death Made Me Do It

by Sarah WaterRaven

  Salem was strong and he was loyal...and he was loving.

  I shook with another sob and then pushed myself up and wiped my tears.

  I brought my hands together and summoned my power. I gripped the strings of the chimera’s magic and then ripped them apart, sending its flesh in every direction. I didn’t care that it covered me in gore. I heaved and shook in the blood and snow.

  A screech tore through the mountains and deafened me. The gashadokuro was fully formed and conscious. It would soon head for the city and kill everything in its path.

  I looked down at Salem and said, “I’ll be right back. Please...” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Please.

  Each step away from him was heavier than the last, but I swallowed my fear and balled my fists. I would tear this monstrosity of dark magick apart piece by piece myself if I had to, but first...

  I snapped my fingers and whispered into the ether, “Mother.”

  Thunder rumbled through the mountains, but this time it was a welcome sound, because it was followed by the echoing laughter of a death goddess.

  The gashadokuro had begun thrashing and clawing at the tree line. Timber snapped and whole trees were uprooted and tossed into the darkness. The demon’s need to destroy and kill turned it into a mindless giant of violence, and wherever it stepped, the ground burned.

  When my mother’s laughter rolled through the mountains, however, the gashadokuro stopped and stared. I smiled, realizing it was seeing the molten tear expanding in our reality.

  Space opened and where a path in the mountains leading back to Silverbrook would have been, there was now a hellish landscape. A vast desert with ash-filled skies, black rivers, and lakes of lava...

  My mother stepped forth from out of hell and into the bitter winter of the Canadian Rockies. She was a giant, just a head shorter than the gashadokuro.

  The goddess was magnificent in her black armor and skull helmet. Her bone sword was jagged and made from the bodies of creatures long dead.

  The helm of her bestial form lay over her eyes and I saw only her grin as she raised her weapon.

  The gashadokuro suddenly screeched and slammed its fists into snow, sending a shock wave so strong, it blew me back into the forest, but before I hit powder, I heard the cry of hellhounds.

  “Cecile. Cecile, get up.”

  Cheetoh was shaking me. I blinked several times, attempting to see clearly. There was a lot happening around us—movement in the dark, fire in the distance, the ground rumbling beneath us. But I could think of only one thing.

  Cheetoh helped me up, and I quickly scanned her to make sure she was okay. The mummy was practically naked but without a scratch on her—no one made undead like her anymore. It took too many lives and no one knew the rituals.

  My insides burned as I stood up, and I coughed, spitting up blood.

  “Take me back to Salem,” I croaked.

  Cheetoh nodded, uncharacteristically compliant.

  As we waded through the snow, chaos ensued around us. My mother and the gashadokuro battled across the mountainside.

  The ground burned where the massive skeleton stepped and a forest fire had started. Each time they came together, my mother’s sword against the gashadokuro’s claws, the mountain quaked.

  The hellhounds, while twice their original size, were dwarfed by the undead demon and their goddess, but they tore at the gashadokuro’s legs, ripping souls from it one at a time.

  It could take all night, but without the tormented souls to sustain it, the gashadokuro would fall apart.

  Snow fell, but it wouldn’t be enough to put out the fire, not unless a real storm blew in. I didn’t see the grim as we moved, though I suspected she was lost in the frenzy of battle with the rest of the dogs.

  As we came closer to where I’d left Salem, I felt more rats returning to me. Their energy and the added bits of Ishita’s soul stirred inside me. I had released so many rats, some of them were still out in the forest, while others were back at Ishita’s body.

  As we reached Salem, I stumbled and fell down beside him. I was tired and likely still bleeding internally.

  “Cecile,” Cheetoh exclaimed and offered to help me up, but I pushed her away.

  “Don’t.” I shook my head. I was struggling to see and either crying or bleeding from somewhere. I wiped my eyes as best I could.

  “Salem,” I whispered and reached out to touch his face.

  His one eye turned to me. It was spotted black and red and I was unsure whether he could see me or if he simply stared in the direction he’d heard me. His face began to blur and I had to wipe my eyes again.

  I sobbed, a pathetic, painful display for the daughter of a goddess.

  Why? Why did it hurt so much?

  Salem...

  A flutter in my chest reminded me that I was housing the rats and the soul they carried.

  I pressed a hand onto Salem’s chest, and I brushed hair away from his forehead before I kissed it.

  “I’m here,” I told him. “I know what to do.”

  I sniffled and sat back.

  I inhaled deeply and steadied my breath. Closing my eyes, I visualized Tanner and the rest of the mischief. I felt my hair and my energy raise as I summoned all of them.

  Bring it to me. Bring it all to me, I instructed them.

  Through the forest and across the raging battlefield, the rest of my rats came. The ones inside me hopped out and rejoined their family. The snow and trees were filled with the glitter of rat eyes and the pieces of soul contained within them. Once I felt Tanner on my shoulder, I raised my fingers, and said, “Ishita, I’m sorry.”

  Snap.

  UNDEAD FOREVER

  Somewhere in the distance, dogs howled and whined. Thunder cracked and souls screamed. Salem was conscious of these things but could not move or speak. He knew only darkness.

  Salem, Cecile whispered in the dark. He tried to see her, but everywhere he looked, there was nothing, a black emptiness that stretched out into eternity.

  I’m sorry... The words echoed and grew louder until a searing pain erupted throughout his body. Salem screamed as it engulfed him.

  Slowly...slowly, he started to feel. It began with his toes and fingers. He closed his hand and then opened it. He lifted his leg and became aware of cold, wet earth, until finally, he opened his eyes.

  The forest was cast in an orange glow. Smoke billowed from a far corner, and Salem could hear the dogs more clearly now. The ground shook, and he jumped up.

  He looked down and marveled at his healed body. He was in his human form and stood alone in the chaos and snow.

  “Cecile?” he asked the wind.

  The earth quaked again and a rumbling laughter rattled Salem’s rib cage. He looked up through the treetops and saw the Nameless One grappling with a dark skeletal giant.

  There was more howling and an eerily close snarl. Salem turned and braced himself. A human-sized, black skeleton was running toward him. It opened its jaw and wailed, but before it could reach him, a massive white hound with red eyes snapped it up in its jaws and gobbled it down.

  The hellhound’s ruby eyes turned to stare at him. It then lifted its head and bugled in triumph, before running back into the melee.

  Winter winds blew smoke from the fires low, momentarily clouding his vision. Salem raised his arm and heard coughing.

  He whipped around. “Cecile?”

  There was a small lump in the snow a few feet from him. He knew in his heart who it was. He could feel her powers tease along his skin.

  He was at her side in seconds, digging her out of the snow.

  A pile of branches and snow shuffled to the right of him, revealing Cheetoh, but Salem turned back to Cecile, knowing the mummy could handle herself. Once he had the necromancer uncovered, he brushed her pink curls away from her face.

  She was bleeding from multiple wounds on her head. The porcelain beauty of her skin was bruised and bloody.

  Salem swallowed and then p
ulled her small body close. He lifted her and kissed the top of her head.

  “I’m here,” he told her. “I will always be here.”

  Cheetoh stepped over and placed her hand on Cecile’s cheek. Her concern for her friend was visible as she said, “Her mother will kill that creature. Let’s go—and walk behind me. You are naked. Is disgusting.”

  “You guys got room for one more?” Kiara asked from behind them.

  Salem was surprised to see she wasn’t a skeleton like the other souls running from the hounds. Kiara eyed him curiously, but did not comment on his nudity.

  Salem turned to Cheetoh and waited for her to decide.

  “If the goddess did not collect you, then she let you go. You can come, but you cannot go inside the house. Cecile will have to wake to do that.” Cheetoh waited for Kiara to acknowledge what she’d said. The mummy stood with her arms crossed, her golden talons stained with black blood.

  Kiara looked out over the forest. The light of the flames from the nearby fire flickered across her face. “Yeah, okay. It’s not like I can get cold anymore, I guess...and no one else can see me, right?”

  “No,” Cheetoh replied and started walking.

  “Where are you going? Town’s that way,” Kiara said, following the mummy.

  Salem held Cecile close and followed them. The necromancer remained unconscious in his arms, but he felt her warmth and steady breathing.

  “We can’t leave them here,” Cheetoh replied. She might have said more, but they were all forced to duck as the Nameless One swung her jawbone sword. Salem felt the whoosh as the massive weapon passed over them, taking several tree tops with it.

  “We are too close!” he protested. Salem hoisted Cecile up, holding her closer, and moved away from the clearing.

  Several hellhounds stopped and looked their way. Two with red eyes and one with violet. The flames of their eyes danced until they realized the small group was not escapees from the gashadokuro. They turned and headed back to their master.

  The skeletal demon roared in frustration and fury as the goddess continued to laugh, overjoyed by the fight. Their sounds were deafening.

  Cheetoh and Kiara moved quickly to join Salem and put more distance between themselves and the giants.

  Out of the way of the fighting, Cheetoh began searching again. In order to avoid the gashadokuro and the Nameless One, they had to cover more ground, which took more time, but Cheetoh finally found what she was looking for.

  She was very hard to see, and they would not have been able to find her had it not been for the melted snow and the flowers and greenery that had sprouted and grown around her body—and the small black dog that lay beside her. They had all assumed Raven had joined in the fight, and maybe she had for a time, but now they saw that the grim had come back to guard the body of the dead angel.

  As they drew near, Raven stood up. Her tail wagged and she whined with uncertainty. Salem had only seen her a few times when she’d chosen to reveal herself, but now he saw that really, she was just a lost dog.

  “I will make sure they find her,” Cheetoh reassured the grim. “Come, we go home now.”

  The mummy carefully tucked in the rifter’s translucent wings and then pulled the angel up and over her shoulder. Kiara, a mere ghost now, could only watch, but Salem did not miss the sad look on her face. He supposed they were all wearing the same grim expression. Seeing the empty shell of the angel left a horrible feeling in one’s soul.

  The group walked home through the dark, snowy wood in silence, leaving the goddess and her hellhounds to their prey.

  Laughter and howling had followed them until they’d crossed the river, where the cries of hellhounds were lost to the babble of the water and the sounds of the city.

  When they finally reached the house, Kiara stayed back and made herself comfortable on the front step, while Cheetoh and Salem proceeded inside.

  Salem carefully removed Cecile’s jacket and then laid her on her bed. He pulled the covers over her and tucked a pillow under her head, then he went to find Cheetoh.

  The mummy had left the basement door open and the light on, so he continued down to meet her.

  Salem felt uneasy in this space. The symbols painted on the floor and the black of the walls tugged at an unattainable memory and made his skin crawl.

  Cheetoh had forgone lighting candles and simply turned the ceiling light on, but it did not fill in the dark corners or rid the room of the illusion that it was larger than it was.

  The dead rifter lay on the floor. The mummy had taken great care to arrange her gracefully and delicately.

  “They will come for her?” Salem asked. This was perhaps the first time the two of them had spoken without Cecile present.

  Cheetoh was quiet as she knelt over the glass body of the dead angel. “I don’t know,” she answered.

  She stood up and retrieved a box of matches from a dusty bookshelf. “They will not be happy the goddess took so many, but maybe they will come if the Nameless One calls.”

  Salem assumed Cheetoh meant so many souls. The goddess had taken souls, and he suspected she would not give them up freely since she and her hellhounds were the ones who had reaped them.

  The mummy struck the match and lit a single black candle at the center of the ritual room. It sat alone, but the flame’s light flickered red and cast the room in the same color.

  Salem felt her cold, terrifying presence before she emerged from the shadows and blew the candle out. The Nameless One was back to her smaller form, her armor replaced by her dark, flowing gown.

  She floated over and eyed the dead rifter. “I assume this is why you summoned me.” Her tone was as icy as her presence, and her demeanor suggested they annoyed her.

  The goddess lifted her hand, snapped her fingers, and then picked the rifter up from the floor. She stood in the center of the room and stared off into the black nothingness beyond the basement’s dim light with the angel draped across her arms.

  Salem did his best to remain silent, hoping the goddess would forget he was there. Even Cheetoh hadn’t moved or spoken since she’d arrived.

  He wanted to ask how the goddess could be here and still in the mountains, but he dare not, lest she harvest him this night as well.

  A small light appeared in what looked like a far-off distance. It grew as it came closer. Salem realized that the black paint on the walls had done more than merely make the room feel like empty space—it somehow was empty space.

  The light was almost upon them, and it overtook the room with its radiance. A massive angel had answered the goddess’s summons. It was far, far different from the one the goddess held in her arms.

  Its body was alien and its face inhuman. Instead of standing fully upright, it had large, long arms and walked like an ape. Its head was triangular, with a single, large eye that was positioned vertically at the center of its face. And unlike the dead angel, who merely had one set of wings, this rifter had two. Its clawed hands pressed down and into the floor of the basement. Heat burned the soles of Salem’s feet. The creature was like a sun.

  It was so vibrant that Salem had missed a second, smaller angel at its side.

  This one was tall, masculine, and had three eyes. Two eyes rested on a human head, as human eyes would, and a third vertical eye sat at the center. This angel was colored like a sunset, and had only a single pair of wings. It appeared male and stepped forward to collect its dead companion.

  “Azrael.” The goddess smirked, her darkness a stark contrast to their light. “I see you brought a bodyguard.”

  The angel ignored her and carefully took the body. He stepped back and peered down with sadness at the empty shell in his hands.

  The other angel pressed off the ground with its massive claws. It stood tall, its incredible form larger than Salem had originally perceived. When it spoke, four smaller eyes opened on either side of the large, vertical one.

  Its voice was so powerful, it almost hurt. Both Salem and Cheetoh winced.
/>   “Are there any souls left from your reaping?” it asked.

  “One.” The Nameless One grinned. “After all the hard work I’ve done, I decided I’d leave you one leftover. She is outside on the doorstep. I would collect her before you lose track of her.”

  The rifter’s eyes seemed to stare through the goddess, but she held her smug expression and stood her ground.

  Azrael held the dead angel’s body close and spread his wings. His light grew dimmer as he did so. The other angel took his lead, and it too spread both sets of wings. As they ascended, they began to fade, but just before they left, Azrael said, “We will see you all soon. You too, goddess, in time.”

  What she’d done was unforgivable.

  Cecile sat in Ishita’s office across from an empty chair. The room suddenly stretched out, becoming a long narrow passageway. It was an endless hallway into an eternity of nothingness.

  Cecile stood in the absence of the soul she’d sacrificed. She looked down and saw something in her hands. When she turned it over, she realized she was holding the mask of Soma.

  I awoke with a start and jumped back, as if flinging Soma’s mask from my hands.

  I was sweating and shaking but was soon held tight in familiar, strong arms. I exhaled and leaned back.

  My heart ached with his presence.

  Salem ran his fingers through my curls and kissed the top of my head.

  We sat quietly together for a long time, neither of us wanting the serene silence to end.

  “I was afraid for you,” Salem eventually said, and nuzzled into my neck.

  I flushed, my body remembering something other than the horrors we’d all been through.

  “Salem...” I whispered. I was going to protest, but he brushed his lips against my skin and I stopped thinking.

  I slid my hand along his arm, enjoying the feel of his soft strength. As I moved, I couldn’t help but notice the bruises and cuts along my arm, but I knew they’d heal within a day or two. If Salem was gentle with me, it wouldn’t matter.

  Our bodies moved along one another, pressing and feeling as much as we could. I turned to look up at him.