by Jeff Gunzel
Overwhelmed by it all, Viola felt faint, but she didn’t dare lose consciousness. Not now! How could such a thing have happened? In some bizarre survival instinct her body had somehow defended itself, a primal reaction she couldn’t even begin to understand. Face leaning between the crossed blades, the trapped creature’s teeth clicked wildly. Unable to adjust to even the simplest of defensive tactics, it just kept pushing forward. Her feet began sliding back, her body inching towards the edge of the roof. Pushing back but failing to reverse its momentum, she gazed into its deep-set eyes.
Yellowed eyes slipped back into its head, black sockets suddenly turning red with flickering flames. Its tongue crept from its mouth, hanging low like a wagging red vine. The tongue twisted up, then began weaving back and forth like a cobra. Rotted skin across the cheeks twitched and squirmed as writhing white maggots burst through, trickling down its front and spreading across the rooftop. The beast opened its mouth, a sorrowful moan bellowing forth as slugs and spiders scrambled up from the back of its throat.
Something clicked in Viola’s mind, an extraordinary revelation she couldn’t begin to comprehend on a conscious level. The disturbing images flickering across her vision were rooted in something deeper, something far below the surface of conscious reasoning. As nightmarish as these images were, they secretly revealed a truth of sorts. They were like a window into another dimension, displaying an unfathomable suffering that could only be described through images, not words.
She pushed back with all she had, her bladed arms actually slashing the creature’s chest. Dry, flaky skin broke easily, releasing a stream of dirty sand onto the roof. The grievous wound only made it stumble back momentarily. A second later it regained its footing, charging at her once more. Viola’s arms shifted back to normal, armored flesh melting together like molten metal. She didn’t raise her arms again, nor did she move even when the stumbling creature was only a few steps away.
“You’re in pain,” she whispered, body tense, ready to accept the impact. The creature stopped cold, a sort of light appearing in its yellowed eyes. It was a readable emotion unlike primal anger or savage hate. Sadness...
It was all so clear to her now, although she couldn’t say why. An animated husk stood before her, with only a hint of its former life force still remaining on this side. Like a foot stuck in a hole, most of the body is liberated, but one simply still cannot move on until the whole body is free. That small part still clung to this world against its will, keeping it trapped between two dimensions.
She could feel its faded life force so easily, could almost touch it. It was like a kite barely snagged on a small branch; it just needed a little push and it would sail away on the wind. Her mind reached out, easily giving the necessary nudge. “I release you,” she said. The creature raised its arms, teeth bared as if smiling in gratitude. Then it dropped in a heap. Lifeless.
With no time to contemplate what had just happened, Viola raced back to the other side of the roof. Her only concern now was for Liam. Terrified of what she might find, she gazed down upon the street below. Liam was still standing, and more than holding his own against the ever pressing wave of attackers. Twisting and spinning, his sword flashed with lightning speed. The mindless creatures died as fast as they advanced once the old soldier’s instincts took over in a deadly dance of steel. Forms he hadn’t performed in years brought his blade to life. Techniques burned into his muscles’ memory allowed him to react to each new enemy with zero hesitation.
But his breaths came heavy, and the enemy was tireless. With exhaustion taking its toll, his once blazing-fast movements were taking on a sluggish look, each felled enemy now seeming to last a second longer than the one preceding it. At his current pace, he would soon be overwhelmed. Evidence of his work lay all around as bodies were piling up. In a sense they were trapping him, limiting his mobility as he struggled to dance around the mounting carcasses.
Viola could feel each of them, their weak life forces offering only the slightest trace of lingering energy, fireflies that should have felt like blazing torches. But in reality they should have felt like nothing at all. They were dead. One by one she gave each a mental push. The effort needed was so minimal it was hard to believe it didn’t happen on its own. So delicate a balance it was, the scale so easily tipped.
To Liam’s eyes, the creatures fell for no reason, bodies jolting as if being hit from behind by some unknown force. But Viola could feel their essences streak away like feathers on the wind, so light they carried away with ease. Danger quickly disappearing, Liam looked up to see Viola gazing over the street. Hands stretched out, her eyes swept methodically, bodies dropping wherever she looked.
Exhausted from battle, Liam dropped his sword with a rattling clang. Covered in sweat, all he could do was watch as the miracle unfolded right before his eyes.
*
Double blades slashed forward, ripping the creature’s chest wide open with crisscrossed gashes. Clotted blood spilled out in darkened globs, discharging with the gooey thickness of honey. Arms pumping, steel flashing with reckless abandon, the hunter took out two, sometimes three with each sweeping assault. Arms bulging with unmatched power, he cut the creatures down like weeds, roaring savagely with each swing.
Sweat glistening across his forehead, he gulped air as his lungs burned, muscles craving more oxygen than he could give. Owen was certainly no stranger to battle, but he usually overwhelmed his prey quickly and savagely with a decisive outcome. Rarely was he engaged in battle so long, with endless foes coming at him from all sides.
Xavier spun and leapt, his whizzing blades opening throats and taking heads. Much of his training had been similar to this, learning to hit multiple moving objects as they came at him from all angles. But this time he didn’t dare miss a single target. If one slipped through his whirling defense of blades, he would be forced to adjust accordingly, disrupting his blazing pattern of flashing death. There were just too many for that. The slightest hesitation could prove to be...unforgiving.
Owen whirled back, his savage blade streaking right over the top of one. What? It ducked? He jumped back, shaken by the brief indication of combat intelligence. If these things started getting organized, this could spell real trouble given their numbers. But no, others were falling for no reason as well.
Breathing hard, the hunter and his apprentice watched in stunned silence as the creatures collapsed all around them, wet smacks hitting the road as they seemed to lose their bodies completely, as if hammers were falling from the sky and driving them down. They looked down the street, seeing Liam and Viola headed their way. Her arms were held out, and the creatures seemed to be dropping wherever her gaze fell. Was this her doing?
“The gods be praised,” Owen grunted, slipping his bloody swords back into their sheaths.
Chapter 7
Owen sat down on a wooden walkway, his back pressed up against the door of the local butcher’s shop. From the putrid scent wafting from under the doorway, it was clear they wouldn’t be salvaging any meat. It was also a clear indication of just how long this town had been abandoned. Arms still tingling from the battle, he stretched hard. With a groan, he began rubbing the cramps from his shoulder. Xavier and Liam approached to join him, each taking a seat on either side.
“Of all the places you could choose to sit and try to regain your wind,” said Liam, clasping a hand over his mouth. “This doesn’t bother you?”
“Decayed animal flesh bothers me a lot less than decayed people trying to take my head off,” Owen replied, hand waving underneath his nose to help make his point. “I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my day, but this ranks up near the top. What the hell happened here?”
“They were undead,” Liam reasoned. “Animated corpses brought to life by an unseen hand. Are you telling me the mighty Demon Hunter has never faced such a foe? They’re quite common, really.”
“I’ve faced hundreds,” Owen snorted, tilting his head back against the wall so he could gaze at the clo
uds above. “Just not hundreds all at once. And these seemed different somehow. Less...decayed than others I’ve seen. Most often they’re summoned by some dark force, then used as cheap, throwaway soldiers for however long the spell lasts. The bodies are usually years old and nearly reduced to bone. I don’t think these were dead all that long, and they were all about the same level of decay. You know what that means, right?”
“Of course I do,” Liam said, rubbing his temples, eyes closed. “They are the very same folk who lived in this town. Essentially, a mass murder took place here, then each of them was turned into—” He couldn’t finish his own sentence. Owen nodded his agreement. It was the same conclusion he had come to.
“Where is Viola?” Xavier asked. “Do you think it’s safe to let her wander off like that?”
“She’ll be fine,” Liam said. “Viola insisted on searching the town for any stragglers so she could...release them. She’s refusing to leave until she’s saved everyone. And to be honest, I think her gift leaves her far more equipped to deal with them than we are. If you are concerned, go on and join her if you like.” Agreeing with the idea, Xavier stood and wandered off to go look for her.
“Aye, about that little trick of hers,” Owen said, a twinge of suspicion in his voice. “Do I even want to know?”
Liam sighed, already aware of what Owen was hinting at.
Owen continued, “So that’s what’s really bothering ya. She not only has their speed, their taste for blood, and now—”
“Don’t say it!” Liam warned, gazing around as if someone in this ghost town might actually hear them.
The hunter leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Necromancy,” he said, the word coming out in a long, slow hiss. “I know we swore to protect her, but denial isn’t going to do any of us any good. I know she’s half human, but her laberath side seems to be maturing by the day.”
“We can’t be sure of anything at this stage,” Liam replied, the weakness of his voice betraying his inner thoughts. In truth, he had wondered for some time now if and when this particular trait might surface.
“Oh, we’re not sure?” Owen said, mocking Liam’s denial. He patted the mystic on the knee. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I guess she just plays better with the undead than we do.”
“That is not funny!” Liam snapped back, a bit harsher than he intended.
“No...it’s not,” Owen admitted, leaning his head back to look up at the clouds again. The sky was a brilliant blue, with only a handful of fluffy white clouds lazily drifting by. A flock of black birds soared overhead, streaking across the sky in their arrowhead formation. “I suppose it’s just one more thing we’ll have to figure out.”
*
Viola turned the corner, cautiously following the grunting sounds to their source. There before her stood two more undead, one ramming its head into the side of a house repeatedly with a series of thuds, the other staring at the sky, drool flowing from the corner of its open mouth. The second one turned, suddenly aware of her presence. It growled a low, watery gurgle before advancing towards her. With a flick of her hand and a subtle thought, they both collapsed to the ground. She smiled as she felt their life forces zip away, off to find the eternal peace they so desperately craved.
Another angry sound caught her ear, more a scream than the usual grunting she was growing accustomed to. Viola turned back just in time to see a woman charging her with a pitchfork. She reached out with her mind but knew instantly this woman was not one of them. She was alive...and enraged!
“Wait! Stop!” Viola cried out. She was far more helpless against a human then she was against the undead. Backing up, she fumbled for her dagger. The moment she had it in her grasp, her trembling hands juggled the weapon briefly before dropping it on the ground.
There came a flash of white accompanied by a cracking sound. Viola looked up to see the old woman in Xavier’s grasp, the forked head of her weapon snapped off cleanly. Held in a loose chokehold, she thrashed against the apprentice. Of course she was no match against him, yet he wasn’t quite sure what to do with her, either.
“Let go of me!” the old woman screeched, all her aggression still focused on Viola. “Don’t you see? It’s her!” Her foot swung up in a fruitless attempt to kick Viola in the face. “She’s one of them! She killed them. She killed all of them!”
“You need to calm down,” Xavier reasoned. “We are not here to hurt you.” Still, the gray-haired woman thrashed, displaying a tireless aggression Xavier could hardly believe for someone her age. His grip was loose so as to not cause her injury, yet more than once she nearly broke free. He looked up at Viola. “You better go back to the others,” he warned. “I don’t imagine she will calm down until you are out of sight.”
“Demon whore!” the old woman screamed, foot firing up a second time. “My husband is dead. Both my sons are dead. All because of you murderous creatures! Fiend. Monster!” Sobbing, her body fell limp in Xavier’s arms. He lowered her to the ground gently, resting her head across his knee.
Opting not to leave just yet, Viola boldly approached and knelt down beside them. She reached out to stroke the woman’s hair but pulled back at the last second, thinking better of it. “I’m so sorry for what they did to your family,” she said. “But they’re gone now. You’re safe.”
“They’re gone now,” the old woman mocked between sobs. “Everything is gone now! My family, everyone I ever knew, everything! What am I supposed to do now?”
“Come with us,” Viola blurted without even thinking. Xavier flashed her a look, subtly shaking his head. “The men I travel with are strong,” she continued, ignoring Xavier’s warning glance. “We can protect you. I know we can’t replace your family, but you’ll be safe with us. We can—” A glob of spit hit her cheek, silencing her.
“I would rather die than travel with a demon whore like you,” the old woman hissed, fire smoldering in her eyes. Viola had already accepted that most people would never trust her. But this was different. A deep loathing like nothing she had ever seen burned in those eyes. Feeling the cool wetness run down her cheek, Viola froze, unable to lift a hand towards wiping it away.
“You want to help me?” the old woman asked. “Then take your own life right here so I can watch as the light goes out in your eyes.” Viola’s eyes began to glisten with wetness. “Then I want you to rise so I can watch you do it again, and again, and again. I want you to die once for each soul that was lost here. And once your debt has been paid, I want you to lie down before me one final time so that I alone may cut off your head, and take it for my wall. Then, and only then, will you have helped me.”
Each word was like a white-hot dagger sinking into her heart. So much hate directed at a person she’d just met. Deep down inside, a part of Viola died. A sour taste spreading through her mouth, she felt nauseous, everything spinning around her.
“Are you listening to me?” Viola snapped out of it, looking at Xavier as if seeing him for the first time. “For the third time already, go back to the others. I need to question her, and that’s clearly not going to happen while you’re still here.”
Viola swallowed the bitter phlegm, her glazed-over eyes coming back into focus. “All right, I’ll leave,” she said, so softly it was hard to hear her. She glanced at the old woman. “All I ask is that you tell me your name.” The woman glared back at her silently. The hate was so strong, Viola thought she could actually feel the heat radiating from that stare. “Tell me, and I promise you’ll never see me again.”
“Breda,” the woman growled, only now attempting to get back to her feet.
“Breda,” Viola repeated, more to herself than to them. She turned to leave. “I won’t forget you as long as I live, Breda,” she whispered to herself.
A short while later, Owen and Liam came into view. The two of them appeared to be engaged in a spirited conversation, but fell silent when they noticed her approach.
“Did you accomplish your goal?” Liam asked. “Have the townsfolk a
ll been liberated?” Expression blank, she kept on walking, ignoring his questions. “Viola, where is Xavier? He went looking for you.”
She turned slightly, pointing back the way she came from. “I’m tired,” she said, sounding very much the part. “I’m going to lie down for a while.” She headed right for the wagon, then disappeared beneath the canopy inside.
A short time later, Xavier showed up. “And where have you been?” Owen asked. “We considered leaving without you.”
“We found a survivor,” he said, surprised they didn’t already know. “I’ve been questioning her this whole time. Did Viola not tell you?” Their expressions were answer enough. He gave a recount of how the old woman had treated her. Now thinking on his own words, the fact that Viola hadn’t spoken of her was not actually surprising at all.
“Poor dear,” said Liam, glancing back at the wagon.
“We’ll deal with that in a minute,” said Owen, his attention focused on his apprentice. “Did she speak of what happened here?”
“As we suspected, they fell victim to a laberath attack,” Xavier replied. “They had no chance. This small town has no militia, and I doubt it would have made a difference anyway. The woman hid, watching from her attic as the town was slaughtered before her eyes.” He shook his head. “She stayed hidden even after they were turned into those...things. Such trauma that one has endured.”
“So basically, we fought off the entire town.” Owen grunted, a bit too much pride apparent in his tone.
“Not exactly,” Xavier corrected. “According to our only witness, they took a quarter of the townsfolk captive. Marched them out of here like livestock.”