Night Slayer 2: Monster Quest

by William Massa

  I wondered what she was up to, and then I felt like a real jerk for not staying in touch. Had I been hoping to protect her? Infiltrating the LA lodge still made her a target, regardless of her being involved with me or not. Fuck, what if the Cabal’s investigation led them straight to the reporter?

  I tried to tell myself she was safe. The Cabalists inside the lodge had all perished when the magical bomb went off. Nothing would point to her involvement, right? As long as she stopped poking around in Cabal business, she’d be fine. Hopefully, she had learned her lesson and realized she was up against an enemy she couldn’t defeat.

  I promised myself that if I made it out of here alive, I would visit Keira as soon as possible. This thought calmed me, and my attention shifted back to the hallway. A few seconds later, I reached the end of the corridor and followed as it took a bend to the right. I was hyper-aware of physical space as I bulleted down the passage and made sure not to touch the walls. As I navigated the air to the best of my abilities, I wondered if this was how astronauts felt in zero gravity.

  My inked chest lit up, and a red spark of light appeared twenty feet ahead of me in the corridor. Octurna’s magic was once again showing me the way. Encouraged by this welcome development, I followed the glowing orb of energy.

  My reality narrowed into two simple objectives. Follow the orb and find the soul of Octurna’s friend. I dove through an empty, depressing mess hall. Pale light shafted through rectangular windows and conjured a checkerboard pattern on the cracked floor.

  I zipped through an open doorway, down another hallway, and the orb led me toward a surgical suite blocked by double doors.

  Shit, I would have to pass through the structure again. I braced myself for the worst.

  The doors’ solid surface grew before me, and then I was moving through the building again. Reality transformed in a flash. I was back in the ghost dimension within the stone and wood bones of the asylum. The wails of the damned drowned out my thoughts. Two screaming spirits raced past me, and one brushed against my astral form. The contact between my astral body and the trapped soul was electric, and the creature’s empty sockets filled with a burst of explosive blue light.

  My chest constricted with terror.

  “Help me!” the spirit screamed, now able to see me.

  The fractal magic tattoos Octurna had transferred to my body blazed with magical energy. Somehow my magic, even in this astral form, could restore the vision of these blinded souls. Great—now they could see the horrors devouring them.

  I burst into the operating room. With horror I saw the ghost emerge from the wall behind me, eyes blazing. This time the entity had followed me into the real world.

  That was not good.

  Our eyes met, and the spirit gave me a pleading look. “You must help us all!” he demanded with growing desperation in his graveyard voice.

  And then a brutal force yanked him back into the walls of the structure, and he was gone.

  I hovered in the air, my mind on fire. My magic had restored the lost soul's sight. Made him aware of where he was. And he had almost managed to join me into the real world.

  Interesting.

  That would bear further investigation, but right now I had bigger problems. I wasn’t alone in the surgery room. A medical team circled a stainless steel operating table, oblivious to my spectral arrival. The all wore green scrubs and surgical masks. One of the sick bastards held up a scalpel stained with fresh blood.

  A swift glance at the table informed me I was in the right place. Nicole Zamora was the patient in question. And judging by her wide-eyed, terrified expression, these freaks were about to operate on her without anesthesia.

  This shit wasn’t surgery. These monsters planned to butcher her.

  The next words out of the surgeon’s mouth gave me a better sense of what was happening–and I didn’t like it one bit.

  “Nicole, I ask you one last time. We don’t want to hurt you. Tell us what you saw the other day, and I swear I will lower this knife.”

  My lips pressed down into a furious scowl. I doubted they would kill her. They had kept her alive over the last century for a reason. But you could put a person through a world of hurt without killing them if you used a scalpel as your interrogation tool.

  Then I spotted the two crimson incisions etched into her lovely features. Fucking monsters. They’d already started hurting her. And this wanna-be Dr. Frankenstein was about to add a third cut to his grisly resume.

  My ghost form reacted on pure instinct as I rushed toward them. One moment I was staring down at them. The next, I found myself inside the body of an orderly standing beside the crazy surgeon.

  Nicole’s face was awash with terror as the scalpel flashed.

  My fist shot out with a pneumatic force and connected with the surgeon’s chin. His eyes rolled backward, and he collapsed to the floor.

  The stunned gazes of the other masked freaks found me. One scooped up the scalpel the first surgeon had dropped and slashed at me with savage glee. A gushing second mouth opened below my newest host body’s surgical mask, and I took that as my cue to leave. A heartbeat later, I had switched hosts, and was now inside the scalpel-wielding freak. I stared at my previous body, which sported a shocked expression as he clutched his bleeding throat. Nicole’s panicked gaze flitted back and forth. I wondered how much the mystic could see of the battle raging through the surgical suite.

  I dropped the scalpel and elbowed the gut of the surgeon to my right. As he joined the other two guys on the tiled floor, I karate-chopped the guy on my left in the throat. A muffled gasp, and only one bad guy remained standing. He glared at me with incomprehension as I head-butted him full force.

  Downed bodies surrounded me. And I had possession of the mad surgeon. It was time to get this show on the road.

  “Who…who are you?” Nicole rasped.

  “I’m getting you out of here. Both of you.”

  Easier said than done. I gripped the gurney and pushed it toward the exit. I didn't worry about experiencing another trip to the ghost dimension. As long as I stayed inside the body of the surgeon, I would avoid an encore of that nightmarish experience.

  I rammed the stretcher through the double-doors and burst into the next corridor. Nicole remained silent as I wheeled her down the hallway. Each step was filled with dread. The image of the living mansion devouring the brave Guardians had burned a vivid picture into my mind. I was gambling on the idea that the asylum wouldn’t turn on members of the Cabal until it understood what was going on.

  I had a plan. Make it to the garage bay, steal an ambulance, and high-tail it out of here before the shit hit the fan.

  I made great progress. For a minute.

  Then the asylum attacked.

  14

  A rumble tore through the mental hospital, the structure screaming out in wordless fury. Then the laws of physics went haywire. The walls framing the doorway up ahead liquefied and sealed the exit, barring our escape.

  Nicole shot me a panicked look. Her gaze was haunted, as if she had long ago forgotten the idea of hope.

  Footsteps grew audible behind us, and I whirled. A phalanx of orderlies and armed guards surged in our direction.

  Dammit! Even if I started body-hopping from guard to guard, their sheer numbers would overwhelm me. And what other tricks would the asylum have up its sleeve? I knew all too well that making doorways disappear was the least of its offensive capabilities. This place would do everything in its power to stop me.

  More figures spilled into the corridor and closed in on me.

  A crazy idea slashed through my mind. I wasn’t alone in this fight.

  Everyone imprisoned in this asylum was on my side. Not to mention the spirits trapped inside the walls. This place was a powder keg waiting for someone to light the fuse.

  Someone like me.

  I couldn’t cast a spell, but my magic had restored the sight of one of the blinded spirits . It had tried to follow me into the real world an
d had almost succeeded. Perhaps my magical energy could trigger a similar reaction in the other spirits. It was worth a shot.

  Plan set in my mind, I made my move.

  I took a deep breath, and by the time I released the air, I had evacuated the mad surgeon. Terror crept in the asshole’s expression as his consciousness returned. Had my possession of his body triggered this reaction? Or was he more scared of the Cabal’s punishment for his failure?

  My ghost form hovered in the air for a beat, and I noticed Nicole Zamora’s intense gaze boring into me. The medium could definitely see me.

  I smiled at her reassuringly and then dipped into the nearest wall. The nightmare dimension engulfed me again. Once again I found myself in a dark world populated by the howling spirits.

  Time to give these blinded souls a chance to fight back. I propelled myself through the swirling ocean of darkness and touched every spectral form I came across while avoiding the schools of energy parasites. Any time I made physical contact with the ghosts, blue light ignited in their hollow eye sockets. I was restoring their vision. Reminding them who they once were. And all the while, I repeated two words like a mantra. No, like a battle cry.

  Fight back, fight back, FIGHT BACK.

  And my message was reaching them.

  The ghosts trapped within the asylum’s walls followed me. I had become a guiding light in this dark place. Even the piranha-like blobs feeding on them sensed a change and backed off.

  A mad roar assaulted my ears. The asylum had realized that an outsider was stirring things up. I sensed movement in the ghost dimension as a giant black mass cut through the spectral waves. From this distance, the dark soul of the asylum looked like an enormous black whale.

  High time to return to the real world. But this time I wasn’t going back on my own.

  This time I was bringing friends along for the ride.

  My ghost form exploded from the ceiling and reappeared in the corridor where I had left Nicole Zamora. The armed guards had encircled the gurney, guns leveled at the stammering surgeon as he tried to proclaim his innocence.

  I lurked near the ceiling and waited.

  I didn’t have to wait for long.

  All around me, human outlines pressed against the cement guts of the asylum, the trapped souls struggling to break free of their prison. I know the hospital was doing its best to contain the outbreak, but it was a losing battle. I had given this desperate lot a tantalizing glimpse of freedom. They wouldn’t give up now.

  The human guards in the corridor grew still as they realized something was very wrong. Sweat bloomed on their faces as a chorus of damned boomed through the halls of the hospital. The phantom figures pressing against the lining of the walls grew more noticeable even to those who didn’t have the second sight.

  The attack started slow. One spirit broke free, burst from the floor and shot toward the nearest guard, taking possession of him. The hapless man unleashed gunfire at the men standing next to him.

  Another ghost erupted from the structure. And another.

  The gates of Hell opened, and a river of pent-up human rage spilled into the corridor. A ghostly armada descended on the hospital staff. The living didn’t stand a chance.

  Some spirits took possession of the stunned orderlies, while others unleashed their terrible anger in far more horrifying ways. Two specters ripped one guard apart, the fearsome attack painting the hallway red. Another spectral wave lifted an orderly into the air and wrenched his joints back with a sickening crunch of breaking bones. Screams competed with gunfire as the massacre of the guards continued.

  The asylum buckled under the onslaught. As the power of the liberated souls grew, the influence of the hospital waned. Walls shook and trembled. Further down the hallway, an invisible force flung open the doors of the holding cells. Howls bashed the corridor as raging inmates emerged from their dark holes, eager to join the growing riot. Similar scenes must have played out all over the asylum, judging by the unholy noise. I had set a massive outbreak in motion and hoped to make my getaway during the resulting confusion.

  The doorway at the far end of the hallway had reappeared. The asylum was losing its ability to manipulate the geometry of this place. I took that as a good sign.

  Time for my next move.

  I stared down at the paralyzed woman. A hundred years locked up in a rubber room had broken Nicole Zamora’s will. She remained on the gurney, her body curled into the fetal position as she tried to shut out the outside world. I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t respond even though I knew she could see me. Nicole was a hundred pounds of dead weight and a huge liability at the moment.

  There was no way I could get her out of the hospital on the gurney. In the chaos, I didn’t see any other bodies that were safe to possess. This woman would need a push to get moving.

  That’s where I entered the picture. A plan had formed in my mind, one that came with a considerable amount of risk. But I didn’t see another way.

  My gaze locked on the wards etched all over Nicole’s neck, face, and torso. The occult tattoos prevented a spirit from breaking out but wouldn’t stop a spirit from breaking in.

  That’s right. I would take possession of the psychic. Could three souls coexist in a single brain without frying it? I had no idea. I was making this stuff up as I went along.

  There was one major problem with my plan. As soon as I entered the medium’s form, my spirit would get trapped inside her too. But I couldn’t think of any other way to galvanize Nicole into action. I figured if Octurna had a method of liberating Diamonique from the psychic’s body, she would extend me the same courtesy.

  But first I had to break out of the asylum and make my way back to the Sanctuary.

  A piece of cake.

  I gave myself an internal push and dove into Nicole Zamora. The world spun 180 degrees the moment I sank into her flesh. Suddenly, I was staring up at the ceiling instead of looking down at Nicole. Part of me refused to move and wanted to remain on the gurney. I felt safe here. I could sit out the battle, wait until it was all over and the craziness died down.

  No, that wasn’t me. That was Nicole.

  I sensed the medium hovering in the back of my mind. And there was someone else. Diamonique was a silent, lurking presence who refused to reveal herself. I understood her trepidation. The Guardian didn't know what to make of this strange invader. Best to be cautious and keep her guard up.

  I hoped I would win her over. If I didn’t get us killed first.

  I gritted my teeth and launched Nicole’s body from the stretcher. As I landed, I cried out in agony. The muscles in Nicole’s legs had atrophied during her century-long stay in this Club Med from Hell.

  Despite the pain, I ran down the corridor at full bore, the sounds of the battle receding behind me. I dipped through the exit, navigated a flight of stairs and then another short hallway.

  And then I was back in the asylum’s garage bay.

  My eyes landed on the waiting ambulance, and I prayed the keys were in the driver’s seat.

  As I approached, two orderlies stepped from behind the vehicle where they had been hiding in the shadows. Their pistols found me a second before I rained punches down on them. Besides displaying a pathetic reaction time, the two goons also had glass chins.

  They slumped to the ground, and I weaved around their bodies. My heart beat with grim determination as I headed straight for the ambulance. I searched the dashboard for a key and got lucky. It was sitting in the cup holder next to a Styrofoam container of cold coffee.

  When I looked up, I caught movement in the rearview mirror. I stared at my reflection for a beat. Nicole Zamora's beautiful features stared back at me.

  Of all the strange and unsettling things I’d been through since joining the war against the Shadow Cabal, this one might be the weirdest.

  The engine roared as I floored the gas. An instant later, the ambulance exploded out of the garage bay doors and shot into the rain-soaked New England landscape. Tires r
ipped over slick asphalt. I kept checking the mirrors for pursuers. Behind me, the asylum was expanding and contracting like some bouncy castle leaking air.

  I turned to my right, and my breath caught in my throat. I wasn’t alone any longer in the ambulance. Diamonique sat next to me and shot me a coquettish smile. She wore a white dress that left little to the imagination. Her breasts practically spilled out of the bodice, her nipples straining against the material. She oozed a sensuality that rivaled the sorceress. I suddenly had a hard time concentrating on the road.

  On some level, I sensed Diamonique wasn’t actually sitting next to me. None of this was real—the whole thing was transpiring on a mental plane. The Guardian’s soul was reaching out to me.

  “Nice jailbreak, Marine, but don’t get too cocky. We’re not in the clear yet.”

  The sound of fast approaching sirens proved her right. A glance at my mirrors revealed a police cruiser with flashing siren flanked by two motorcycle cops.

  Great.

  To the authorities, I was just some nutbag on the run. The Cabal had no problem pitting the law against me, which made the next part a lot harder. I refused to harm innocent cops who were being used as pawns in a war they didn’t understand. I would have to outrun them without getting any of us killed.

  “Octurna, where the Hell are you?” I growled in Nicole’s voice.

  Swelling sirens were the only response I received.

  I mashed the gas, gritted my teeth. The slick forest road blurred past me. Up ahead, a tunnel jumped into view.

  Another sound filled the air. Prop wash. The cops were receiving air support.

  I was still running down my options when I spotted Octurna. She cut a striking silhouette at the mouth of the fast-approaching tunnel.

  I grinned. “About fucking time.”

  The ambulance's sirens blared as we barreled into the tunnel’s entrance and disappeared from the mortal realm.