Omnigalactic

by Christopher Conner

  “I need you to distract Shen'roth while I perform the ritual,” he said, then reached into a his robes to reveal a vial of yellow liquid with hunks of debris floating in it. “At each of the five points, I must place a drop of this. Otherwise, it will not work.”

  “What is that?”

  “Ground sage, sandalwood, frankincense, lunaberry, and vileworm. Do not ask me why or how they work, but the book says to use them. Once the Pentacle is completed, I will recite the incantation. If done correctly, Shen'roth will be banished.”

  “And if you don't do it right?”

  He looked at me dead in the eyes. “Then, we die.”

  “I guess I’d better get my shotgun.” I sighed. “See you at the beach.”

  “Be quick; we haven’t much time left before the ward wears off.”

  ****

  Lightning split the skies in half. Azure gave way to grayish-black clouds, and the sun was swallowed whole. Raindrops crescendoed from a slight trickle to a torrential downpour. In desperation, healthy citizens erected a tarp on thin, metal beams to provide a makeshift shelter for their wounded comrades. Rainwater fell from the tarp and made the sand moist and mud-like. It was pathetic, like something out of a survival movie, but at least the wounded kept dry.

  I found Glennsworth kneeling next to Doctor Rupert. He cut open the black, blood-crusted splint over her shin. She winced as he spread a mushy, green salve over the exposed bone.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He rewrapped her shin with gauss cloth. “This should heal in a day’s time.”

  Though she looked skeptical, she nodded her head and looked at me as I approached.

  I knelt next to her. “Are you all right?” It was a stupid question. Of course, she wasn't all right. All anyone had to do was look around and know nothing was going right, and everything was going wrong.

  “I'll probably need a cane or cyber-prosthetic to walk for the rest of my life,” she said and blew sweaty, matted locks of hair out of her face. A man screamed behind her as the medical staff tended to his mangled arm. “But, the others will be lucky just to survive.”

  “You should go with the cane,” I half-joked. “It’s classier, and you'll look more distinguished.”

  “Not the best comedic timing,” she said, grimacing. “How are you? I'm sorry about Jord.”

  I shook my head. “Don't be. It’s part of the job.”

  She lay her head back and winced again. “What do we do now? The project; it’s finished.”

  “I'm going to finish the job,” I said. “My end of the contract hasn't been fulfilled. I owe it to you all.”

  “Sai,” she said. “You saw what that thing — that monster — can do. You'll die. You owe us nothing. You saved us, even if it was just for a night. Don't think you need to be suicidal to prove anything.”

  She didn't understand. I needed this. All my life, I'd done nothing but skate by and take the easy route. My parents had been right – I’d squandered my talents and had never given them the chance to flourish. Like the lazy sack of shit that I was, I was ready to go right back to the easy route if given the chance. How weak and delusional had I been to not see what I could do? They’d seen it in me. Jord had seen it in me, too.

  “If that's what it takes, then that's what it takes,” I said. “I have a shot to turn this around, and nothing is going to stop me.”

  A fierce gust carried bone-chilling shrieks from the dome tunnel into the wounded camp. Shen'roth waited for us.

  Glennsworth grabbed my shoulder. “We must go now. The ward will be wearing off shortly.”

  Doctor Rupert sat up. “Sai, don't go.”

  I took her hand. “Are there any starship pilots here?”

  “There's one helping in the infirmary,” she answered. “But—”

  “Get as many people aboard my ship as you can. If we don't come back in thirty minutes, take off and send out a distress signal. There's enough food and water to get by for a week. Take care of Jord for me. If he ever gets his mind back, tell him I said, ‘Thanks for everything’. Let's go, Glennsworth.”

  I let go of her hand and turned away. She snatched my hand, pulled me in close, and kissed my cheek. “You're the bravest Anuran I've ever met.”

  Whoa. I recoiled, totally not expecting that. My cheeks flushed blue.

  Another shriek came from the tunnel — a reminder of what was to come. Glennsworth urged me on. Doctor Rupert let go of my hand. I cocked my shotgun and undid the safety. My boots sank into the sopping wet sand as I trudged down the beach.

  We approached the tunnel, and I looked back at the camp one last time. Doctor Rupert stared at me, a look of despair on her face. I didn't know what else to do, other than give her a slight nod. She mouthed the words: Good luck.

  I turned to Glennsworth. “You ready?”

  He smirked. “It's not a question of my readiness, but of Shen'roth's.”

  I chuckled. “Well, I'm glad you're optimistic.”

  We descended into the tunnel and disappeared into the darkness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Finish This Thing

  My boots slapped through the rain in the flooded tunnel. Water splashed against my trousers and jacket with every step. The fluorescent lights that once illuminated the tunnel flickered dimly, as if they, too, were at the edge of life and death. They signaled what waited for us - our agonizing end at the hand of the nightmarish elder daemon, waiting at his sick altar of death.

  Up ahead, the end of the tunnel was brightly lit. At least some of the lights in the ruins still worked, so we wouldn't have to fight him in complete darkness.

  As we got closer, my heart thumped harder and increased in pace, like an engine revving up. My throat stiffened; it was parched when I swallowed down my rising fear. My guts twisted into knots, as if they were trying to stop bile from creeping up my esophagus. My breathing became heavy and labored as I tried to calm my nerves. A shaky aim wasn't going to help either of us. I said a silent prayer to any of the Pantheon who would listen — if any of them even existed. Right now, the only thing that I knew existed was the living, breathing incarnate of evil up ahead. If the Pantheon were all just myths or folklore, then Glennsworth and I were the only things standing in Shen'roth's murderous path.

  So be it.

  “You know, you never told us why you really came to Melville,” I said, keeping my eyes forward.

  “Yes, I did,” Glennsworth said. “To evade capture by my fellow members of the order and to investigate the creature plaguing this place.”

  “Yeah, you said that. But is this what you guys do? Are you guys daemon hunters or something?”

  He chuckled. “You have a wondrous imagination.”

  “No, I'm serious. What good is all that power if you don't use it? I wish I could do half of what you can.”

  “Perhaps when we have the time, I'll tell you. Let us finish the task at hand first.”

  “You're such a cryptic bastard.”

  We entered the dome. Mutilated bodies of the deceased littered the area. Their blood stained the sand around them a sickening brownish-red, and the stench of death thickened the air. Fish and strange, gelatinous aquatic life swam around the dome like they were ravenous spectators of some blood-sport, ready for the grand finale to begin. It reminded me of the old battle-royale movies I’d watched as a pollywog when my parents were asleep. I could still hear my mother's scolding voice when she caught me. If only she could have seen me now.

  Black tentacles wrapped around the few standing pillars ahead of us. They constricted the pillars and ripped them from the ground before tossing them aside like garbage. The mighty Shen'roth slithered forward and gave a long, mind-splitting scream, as if to say, “Hello, are you ready to die?”

  I stepped forward. “Let's go, you ugly, disgusting piece of shit!”

  I nodded to Glennsworth. We split in two; I went to the left; he went to the right. I hoped
his magic trick was going to work. Aiming wildly, and not really caring which of his dozens of appendages I hit, I fired my shotgun. That gun might have been able to kill a vanar, but against something that big, I might as well have been throwing rocks at it.

  A mass of black meat slammed down next to me. I rolled away and dodged another of Shen'roth's attacks. I blasted a hole in one of the tentacles, and thick, black goo sprayed onto my jacket. The elder daemon screamed and came at me with a sweeping attack from behind. Having been hit with that attack before, I leapt over its wounded limb. It whooshed under my boots. I landed behind it and fired at it, creating another oozing wound.

  Across the dome, I could see Glennsworth, etching in the sand with his metal rod and pouring the vial of yellow liquid onto one of the star points.

  “Glennsworth!” I cried. “How much longer?”

  He darted across the room, drawing in the sand as he went. “Two-fifths of the way through!”

  “That's it?!” I asked. Shen'roth swiped at me again, and I dove behind a large hunk of rubble, right onto a dead body. Its face had been mangled - the eyes, nose, and jaw were a bony, bloody mess inside the skull cavity, like a cannibal's stew. I gagged, shoved the grotesque corpse away from me, and started to dry-heave. I collected myself and peeked over the rubble. Glennsworth continued completing the Pentacle, but Shen'roth turned his attention toward him. I shouted at Shen'roth and fired a volley of shotgun slugs, each striking the swirling mass of limbs.

  C'mon Glennsworth, you stupid bastard, I thought. Finish this thing.

  Shen'roth turned his massive body and squirmed toward me. For a quick second, I wished I hadn't done that. With a few pairs of tentacles, he lifted his body, as if to get a better aim at me. Then, he lifted damn near the rest of his tentacles above him. If I didn't move fast, I was going to look worse than the guy with the smashed face. In fact, my whole body would look like that.

  With all the speed and force I could muster, I hurled myself over the rubble and sprinted like mad toward him. My leg muscles screamed at me, begging me not to move any faster, but I ignored their cries. With a furious flurry of blows, he slammed his black appendages of death at me, each landing a foot closer to crushing me into a pile of green goop. I ducked under his chitinous shell and tumbled through the sand. It dug at my neck and the back of my head, rubbing it bloody and raw. I cursed and felt it with my free hand. My palm was covered in blue blood. I wiped it away on my trousers.

  Glennsworth shouted behind me. “One more side!”

  “Hurry up, damn it!” I yelled back at him. “I can't distract him much longer!”

  Shen'roth came at us again with relentless rage, his shrieks rumbling the glasteel dome. I tried to guide him away from Glennsworth, shouting obscenities and firing my shotgun like a mad adolescent on a shooting spree. Still holding himself up, Shen'roth scurried at me and unleashed another flurry of blows. I leapt, zigged, zagged, and rolled in the most intense, life-or-death cardio routine I’d ever done in my life. Blood and sweat trickled down my entire face and head, and ran down into my eyes, blurring my vision blue. My knees and ankles buckled as my exhausted legs gave out. I collapsed to my knees. A hulking tentacle flung me into the glasteel dome, and the air escaped from my lungs. My shooting arm cracked, and screaming, stabbing pain shot up the nerves of my arm. I cried out in agony when I tried to move it. The bones clicked and clacked, shooting more pain up my arm. It dangled across my chest, limp and useless.

  I recited another silent prayer to the Pantheon as I anticipated another blow — the one to end my miserable existence. This was it — the last moment of life, lying on the sand at the bottom of the ocean with a shattered arm, trying to stop an ancient evil I’d never known existed until a day ago. Who was I, a commercial pilot, to think I had even a glimmer of hope to stop Shen'roth, the Elder Daemon of Deception? If I were to tell that story to anyone else, they would have told me I was a drunken, idiotic liar. In that final moment, I was okay with that. At least, I knew the truth - that maybe, deep down in the recesses of my soul, I was capable of great things.

  I closed my sand-crusted eyes, took a deep breath, and silently wished Glennsworth good luck. But, the blow never came. With my remaining good arm, I pushed myself up onto my butt and rested my aching body against the dome.

  Far on the opposite end of the dome, Glennsworth slung the metal rod into the air and batted away Shen'roth's attacks, but I could tell he was at his limit. He was going to die. It was only a matter of time. I had to help, but how? What could I have possibly done in that state? Even if I had distracted Shen'roth for a few seconds, would it have been enough time for Glennsworth to complete the ritual?

  Given the situation, it was about all I had. I had already come to terms with and accepted my fate. I was ready for death.

  With my good arm, I reached for my shotgun and aimed at Shen'roth, using one of my knees to hold the gun steady. I didn't care what part of its body the slug hit, as long as it hit the mammoth-sized, black daemon.

  I pulled the trigger. Click. No recoil. Shit! I was out of ammunition! Frantic and awkwardly, I searched my belt for a slug. Just one, that was all I needed. In one of my belt pockets, I found a magazine. I counted the rounds - four. Four was better than one. I used my other knee to hold the shotgun and loaded the magazine. The sweet, clicking sound massaged my earholes as a slug slid into the chamber. I heard Glennsworth shout and looked up to see him being held over Shen'roth's sinister, toothy maw.

  I aimed at Shen'roth's mouth and fired. The slug fell short, but struck his shell. He shrieked, louder than ever before, and a crack shot up the side of the dome. Seawater trickled onto the sand. He flailed wildly and flung Glennsworth into the sand about thirty feet away from me.

  I called to him. “Glennsworth! You still alive?”

  He lifted himself up and hacked out a mouthful of sand. I sighed in relief. I glanced back over at Shen'roth. His shell flickered and dimmed like the fluorescent lights in the tunnel.

  My mind transported me to the wetlands of Anura. My shotgun was aimed at the vanar. Jord whispered into my ear, “Remember, always aim for the weak spot.”

  Of course! The Elder Daemon of Deception! The shell was merely an illusion, just like whatever alternate reality terrorized the minds of Jord and the dementia patients in the infirmary.

  “Pray for the Eye!” I cried. My muscles screamed as I rose from the sand, shotgun in hand. “Jord, this one's for you, buddy. Good luck with the company.”

  “Sai!” Glennsworth yelled. “You fool! What are you doing?”

  I looked back at him. “Finish the ritual. Send this bastard back to where he came from.”

  With every aching step, I trudged through the scattered corpses in the sand. Shen'roth turned toward me.

  “I'm sorry; did that hurt?” I asked. “Are you pissed that a puny, little mortal has bested you?”

  Shen'roth screamed and charged at me. I fired another round at his shell. He recoiled in pain, and the shell flickered once more and disappeared, revealing Shen'roth's mushy, gelatinous body. I fired at him again, and the round blasted another hole in his soft flesh. Black goo oozed from the gaping wounds and splattered against the sand.

  One round left; better make it count.

  The wounded monster opened his mouth, and the red eye appeared. It glowed bright red, bathing my body in its evil, mind-warping power. Oblivion crept over my mind as it was filled with flashing images of a fiery, ash-strewn, hellish landscape. Thousands — no, millions — of Wyn screamed in horror. A sweeping tidal wave, hundreds of feet high, crashed into them, sweeping them all away to drown in the dark depths of the ocean.

  I shouted in defiance, forced my gaze away, and continued my slow march toward him. He snatched my legs up and squeezed tightly as he held me over his eye. With my last slug, I blasted the tentacle that held my legs.

  I fell into his teeth-filled mouth. It slammed shut behind me, and I was surrounded in complete darkness.<
br />
  I felt liquid sloshing underneath my boots. An intense heat came over them, and they began to sizzle. I slammed my good shoulder against the slimy, fleshy wall behind me. The leather of my jacket sleeve burned and boiled in the slime. What a way to go - being boiled alive in digestive bile. I would have rather been pummeled to death.

  A red glow illuminated my surroundings. Bones and still-disintegrating meat decorated the walls of Shen'roth's mouth. I looked up, and the red eye stared me down, its wicked gaze intensifying with a red glow.

  Those terrible images filled my mind once more, and a voice hissed in my ear, “PATHETIC MORTAL! NO ONE FACES THE POWER OF THE GREAT SHEN'ROTH AND LIVES TO TELL THE TALE! PREPARE YOURSELF FOR THE ABYSSAL DEPTHS OF OBLIVION!”

  The eye swirled from a fiery red to a bright, piercing white. It flashed and blinded me. I screamed. My mind felt as if it were being strangled by a pair of massive hands. With complete desperation, I reached out in front of me. I felt a long stalk with my one good hand. I gripped it tight, and with every ounce of strength I had left, I pulled it toward me.