by Lee Taylor
“Here, Kit-tee, Kit-tee.” The lumbering oaf, Crow was calling out, patting his legs with a raucous smile spread across his face. Kitty didn’t respond. She was focussed on attacking the other lycanthrope, but crow was just about in, grabbing range of her own body so whatever she was going to do it was going to have to be quick. She pounced forward, jumping off of Crows hulking back and knocked him off balance as she turned on the other lycan, foaming and snarling at the mouth. Her eyes glinted, and she tore forward. The other wolf was a seasoned lycan and used to all their abilities, Kitty was not. And as the SUV-sized timber wolf got the upper hand and clutched her by the throat, she dispossessed him. Returning to her body to stare at the oncoming Crow, she still mercifully had her athame in hand. So with a few clicks and cracks, she flexed her muscles and recomposed herself.
“Well,” she said tersely.
“Are you going to come and get me, or are you just going to keep on shuffling forward like you crapped your pants?” Kitty jeered. Crow arched a brow and chuffed in amusement.
Suddenly Crow flew forward at an astounding pace. Kitty had misjudged him. The way that he moved and spoke was completely different to the behemoth that ran to her now.
When Crow barged into her a millisecond later, he had been overjoyed. He said that he was going to play with her, and now he was fulfilling that promise. Kitty had just managed to put up a mental barrier in time before her ribs were crushed, and her internal organs were putrefied. There was still enough force left over after that the wind was knocked out of her, and she was sent to the floor in a heap; her athame, the only thing that could do some serious damage, skittered across the floor out of reach. She looked up to face him, her body trembling as she forced herself to breathe. Mike watched the whole volley, and even though he had to keep an eye on the blood frenzied lycanthropes, he darted towards Kitty to help her, sprinting past the duelling wolves, he dove for Crow. Unfortunately for Mike, running into Crow was a lot like running into a brick wall; Mike ricocheted off of Crow and onto the cold floor. The impact almost had him seeing cartoon stars and birds floating around his head, but for once he saw something better, shaking away the impact. Even though he had apparently suffered major whiplash he could just see Kitty’s athame. Crow was still focussed on Kitty, completely unaware that Mike had just tried to attack him, and so Mike reached out and snatched it off the floor then pulled himself back to his feet and ran at Crow again.
Crow smiled at Kitty as he knotted his hands together, lifting them into the air above her as she lay rasping for air. Kitty couldn’t help but pull her hands to her ribs; he had cracked one or two with the blow.
“Kitty, move!” Mike called out desperately. She didn’t comply.
“What’s wrong? Am I playing too rough with you?” Crow sounded childlike with his words. Kitty was still flinching in pain, looking at him she spat; slowly Crow lowered his hands to his face, wiping the spit from its resting place and continued to suck the spittle off of his fingers. A broad smile shone at her once again.
“You taste as good as I thought.” Kitty winced, repulsed by Crow’s action; she didn’t want to give him any more satisfaction. Slowly, Crow lifted his arms again readying himself to strike down at Kitty when he was disrupted once more. The foundations of the house shook, creaking and shuddering, dust seeping out from cracks loosening mortar in the walls and ceiling.
“Master!” Crow let out a cry of disbelief, pivoting in his place he turned just as Mike plunged Kitty’s athame into his chest, burying it up to the blades hilt. Black puss oozed over the blade, and Mike’s hand was still gripped tightly to the handle. Crow hadn’t seemed to notice the golden blade protruding from his chest. Instead he was eyeing the door way intently, considering running out and giving aid to his master. A different dark energy was filling the house. Kitty still lying in agony on the floor and was absorbing the whole situation, her ribs still ached too much to move far, and her breath was still staggered in heaving waves. There was another flash, and the house creaked again. The malevolent energy intensified, causing gooseflesh to breakout on everyone in the dungeon. Even Crow, with his pallid skin seemed to visibly shudder. His eyes widened, they were milky and glazed as he turned back to look at Kitty and the others. He let out a chuckle and clapped his hands together.
“Good job watching the boy. You didn’t even notice!” Crow laughed again, sludge dripping from his gaping wound. Ivan turned to see what he meant looking to find me... But my body had been taken... George was playing with us even now.
***
You know, when you think you’re dying, it’s funny the things that go through your head. I always imagined that as you died you are supposed to see glimpses of your past transgressions, or fond childhood memories, but all I could feel was anger and despair.
I didn’t think that I had been a bad person in my life... I mean, sure I killed Damon, but he totally had it coming. Plus he was technically already dead when I killed him... Or is it un-dead? Whatever. I wasn’t upset about that in particular; it was everything that I was going to miss. Like I was never going to have a real relationship, or graduate high school, or I wasn’t going to get to travel the world, or go with Mike on his “stoner adventure” as he called it, going through Amsterdam, exploring Europe. But what really got to me... What really pissed me off was that I was never going to get to finish what had been started: my estranged wife... Wow, even now that was a hard term to accept. I was never going to see my friends, or my parents. After everything I had been through, and all I had endured, it was all going to end because of what? Some smiley crust-faced asshole and his groupies! No fucking way.
I couldn’t and wouldn’t give up. Even if at the end of this sodden tunnel with the beacon of light, I wouldn’t hide from it. I was going to face whatever was there head on and not fade into the shadows even if St. Peter was at the end waiting to recap my life, to see if I had been a good or bad boy... Kind of like Santa. Saying that, for all I knew he existed, and is now in his warm winter-green getup.
I forced myself toward the light. “Once more into the breach, dear friend” and all that jazz, pulling myself free of the numbing void that held me. And as I did, the situation became clearer. The light that I had been so scared of a few moments before was revealed to be my own vision; I could see that Arktos was holding down the fort while I thought I was dying... Sucking in a deep breath, I focussed on regaining control of my own body.
I don’t know what would have happened if I had let the darkness absorb me... And to be honest, I don’t really want to. In a flash, I could feel everything around me, see all the kaleidoscopic lights that made me head feel like it was full of firecrackers popping and blowing up, giving me one heck of a headache... In any case, when I finally was able to look around me, it was just in time for me to open my eyes to see a fist plant square in my face.
I shrugged back from the blow, fortunately taking most of the proverbial bang out of it. I then dubiously purveyed my surroundings. Arkham lay slumped against a wall, huge gashes splitting open his chest cavity, sludge oozed from the gaping hole, as well as coming through his broken teeth. The gelatinous substance was also slowly seeping from his crumbling ears. It was a grotesque image. I still didn’t see where the punch had been thrown from, and so I looked around the room until my heart all but stopped... It was like a punch to the solar plexus; my diaphragm began to spasm, and I lost all my breath as I saw Tessa lying sprawled out lifelessly on the floor.
“Do you not understand, boy? I command Legions, you are nothing to me!” A voice reverberated around the room, shaking me like a rag doll. I turned to see where the yammering was coming from; it was the guy in my dreamscape... Same as Arkham and George, he had to have been real, too. His face was twisted and bitter, and his skin was a chilly pale, blotted with dried blood.
His eyes were a slick, oily black with a flourish of red making them appear almost cat-like, but far more hideous. His eyelids were cracked and dark, like whatever power resided in hi
m bulged as it tried to force its way out and visibly burned and cracked his mottled skin.
“Okay, you’re going to have to start again; I haven’t been paying all that much attention... Who are you?” I asked, doing my best to sound reasonable as I clicked my nose back into place. Chills still ran through me; I was amazed that I could look right at him... there was so much that just seemed wrong.
“You dare mock me?” I didn’t really mean to upset him, but apparently I had exceeded in doing just that.
“No I was-” I stopped myself from apologizing. “You know what, fuck it; you have already sucker-punched me in the face and pissed me off. I couldn’t really give a shit about who you are, unless your name is ‘me’, and in that case was it written on the birth certificate that you got from the condom manufacturer stating that they’re sorry?” I blurted. The demon host looked to the far corner with a quizzical expression tattooing his face.
“I preferred you when you were growling,” The demon teased. I ignored his retort, even though it was refreshing to get beaten up by someone with a sense of humour.
“Who did that to Tessa?” I asked. His body began to shake, plumes of darkness radiated from him as his quizzical expression shifted to a hateful glower.
“You dare talk about my bride?” His answer was coarse and strained.
“Okay, are you some kind of retard? If you are, then that’s okay; if not then, dude, get with the program. I could not literally give a shit about your questions or how highly you think of yourself. So I’ll ask again, who did that to Tessa?” I was growing more agitated with every heartbeat, and I could hear Arktos now more audible and clear demanding that I seek retribution.
His nostrils flared in outrage, his eyes glinting with more malice swarming and shifting like great basins filled with blood, swirling down the plug hole. Apparently he wasn’t a big fan of being disrespected, which was a real shame as he was having a conversation with me.
“Besides, haven’t you heard? Tessa is mine,” I said, with a lopsided smile. I was never really a possessive kind of guy, but talking about Tessa in this way had my heart-rate hit the roof. I recalled her in my dream, lying next to me so blissful and beautiful. It was equal to my happiest childhood memory, and it never really happened... God I needed to get a life.
“George, I shall collect my payment now,” The demon said, and it was alarming on how passive he sounded. There was no emotion to his tone, no visual indication that he was angry or ecstatic. Clicking his joints and cracking his neck the whole while glaring at me, the same murderous unreadable blood-filled eyes, unblinking and unholy, studied me and picked me apart. He held his arms out in front of himself; at first, I have to be honest, I thought that he was joking as he raised his hands making claw shapes out of them. I assumed that he was mocking me, knowing what form I can possess. That was until he slashed the air, and the whole room rumbled, fixtures and portraits dropped from the wall.
A bead of sweat glistened on my brow as it rolled down my cheek and onto my shirt; I was as excited as Arktos was, and I needed to flex my muscles and have a good throw down. His energy continued to build, smoke seemed to flow around him, and the toxic fumes being absorbed through the pores in his skin changed his appearance to yet a more dishevelled look. His blood splattered clothes now darkening from soot. The house shook again, trembling at his magnificence. The air grew thicker, and an acrid vapour burned my throat as I inhaled.
“What the hell are you doing?” I coughed the question out; it had to be asked. The increase in pressure was driving me insane. My ears popped and whistled from the sudden change in air pressure. Now he did show emotion. The figure seemed delighted with my apparent discomfort. George, who had been standing, had taken the opportunity to disappear along with Arkham. Apparently he was not keen to see what happened next. Tessa, who had still not shown a sign in movement, was covered with crumbs of debris. I was trying to edge closer to her, but the ticked off demon was standing in my way with a grin on his face like the Cheshire Cat.
I guess he knew something I didn’t, and that could have been anything as I didn’t know a lot.
Time seemed to slow down to a halt; I can remember hearing my breathing and heartbeat slowly continuing as the form in front began to shimmer like a mirage. A light breeze cooled the sweat on my brow as it wafted over me, and it smelt of rust and soot, shortly followed with a sharp, pungent odour of sulphur. Before I had an opportunity to turn and confront him, he placed either hand on my shoulders and whispered into my ear.
“My name is Drogan.” With his tone hushed, each syllable of his words sent chaotic barbs of panic down my spine, distributing though out my body. Hastily turning to face him, I dropped my stance, lowering my shoulder and pivoted on my heel, aiming to face him head on, and failed miserably. He had moved with me effortlessly, taunting me with his preternatural speed. A mocking laugh echoed through the room, and the parlour seemed to shake and shudder again as he drew to him yet more energy.
“Drogan, I am guessing we are done with the whole ‘hi how are you?’ stage. So, you mind telling me what the hell you want?” I kept talking and walked slowly toward where Tessa lay, and I knew that he still had a hold of me. I couldn’t try anything rash, not yet at least. He scoffed, and it felt like he had seen though my little plan to edge toward Tessa, so that I could assess her vitals. Not that I was medically trained, because I wasn’t. But I should still have been able to find out for sure if she was breathing.
Everything was quiet, even the air after growing so stifling seemed still. I couldn’t feel his presence behind me. In fact, I couldn’t tell if he was anywhere near me at all. That was until I felt a sharp pain impact me on my back. The blow itself took me off my feet, and I shouted out unexpectedly. Pulling myself back to my feet, I could taste blood in my mouth. My dark passenger, Arktos, was overjoyed, and he felt that it had been too long since he had tested out our abilities. I shuddered at my own dark thoughts, it suddenly dawned on me that I was basically becoming a masochist. Another blow struck me in the temple as I had begun to ascend, shaking my vision; like the first few seconds when turning on a television, and the screen remains blank, it took me a while for images to register with me, too. I looked around, gassed; and stumbled a few paces as I tried to keep my balance, receiving another blow this time to the abdomen as a result. Arktos roared at my pathetic attempt at defence. Every time I took one step, Drogan moved about five. Each and every time I lifted my hands or swung wildly, he would counter, moving out the way and hitting from behind. But he did keep up the same pattern. The only compensation was that he did not have his future bride’s strength. He might have been a lot faster, but his hits in comparison were nowhere near as devastating as Tessa’s. They were still more than enough to overcome me though. I sighed, aggravated, pinching my eyes shut as I felt a foot slam into my face.
I was knocked sprawling out on to the hard floor. Objects that had gotten in my way were demolished under me. Drogan was enjoying taking me down one brick at a time. My face and body throbbed; the only reason why I hadn’t passed out yet was because I was healing. I pulled myself back to my feet. Opening my eyes, everything was now tinted red, (It wasn’t from the foot to the face, if that was what you were wondering. That blow wasn’t enough to break my nose.) Opening my eyes I could see dark energy trailing behind him, clinging to every footstep he made. I tried to anticipate and counter from his past actions. Doing so he immediately switched his attack patterns, instead of concealing himself and striking out; he opted for face to face. I elbowed backwards and jumped, lifting my knee. The result almost broke my leg, but sent Drogan onto the ground. His eyes widened in fury. He came at me again this time. Unlike before, each blow was like a sledgehammer, crumpling me up in horrid agony with hit after hit. His speed had slowed as a result.
Why did I have to compare him to Tessa? I felt like more of a fool for continually tempting fate. I was too tired to change into my other form now; going through the pupa stage was a daunting ide
a, especially with his constant barrage of attacks. Arktos was roaring, demanding that I continue, but even he was affected. Drogan clinched me, wrapping his hands around the back of my neck, and pulled my face toward the ground, kneeing me in the head.
The blow sent an explosion of light through my head, like a barrage of fireworks ignited in a night sky, and sent me into a flip. Before I had a chance even to fall to earth, he leapt on top of me, hitting me in the chest again finishing with a blow to my kidneys. He was everywhere at once, and I came close to giving up, but I couldn’t.
My body was racked with pain, and I was regretting my knee that I dished out to his chest. I could feel my face swell up with the ferocity of the blows. It was ceaseless, and he regained his smile again as he kicked the crap out of me. No matter how I moved or tried to counter, or swiped at the air to grab hold of him, he just moved and countered parrying all my attacks. At one point I began to cry hopelessly, my tears mixed with anger, pain and frustration which only aided in humiliating me more. One of the worst blows was still to be dealt:
I saw Tessa twitch, and the movement sparked my awareness of the situation. Joints in my body cracked and groaned; he hadn’t even begun to slow as she regained consciousness. I stopped, and gawped at her, and was rewarded with a bone-shattering blow to my ribs that had me cocked at an angle rasping and wheezing. I could feel my left lung collapse in my chest, how my heart didn’t stop from the blow alone was a miracle. Blood began to freely flow into my mouth, swallowing mouthful after mouthful, trying to clear my lungs had me gagging. She had to have been picking up on my distressed emotions, as suddenly like she had just realised she was missing something, she sat up, head propped up and looked toward me. I couldn’t hide a smile from her, especially with the clueless expression on her face. But even that was lost as she saw Drogan... She reciprocated my smile... But it was to him. My heart sunk, shattering with her look. My lungs gave in completely and collapsed. Just seeing her alive had set a fire deep from within me, burning to the point that I thought I was going to spontaneously combust. But, when she ignored me, and looked to Drogan smiling benevolently… it destroyed me. There was a sudden infusion of ice that coursed throughout my system. The resulting reaction internally was thermal expansion; my lungs collapsed. I was unable to breath, and I just stood there, looking on. A single tear trickled down my cheek.