Ghoul Night (Shadow Detective Book 6)

by William Massa

  “I didn’t create this spell,” the ghoul explained. “The mage did.”

  The mage. The ghoul had to be talking about Jennifer’s father, Robert Lamont.

  “What was this mage trying to achieve?”

  “What does any mortal want more than anything? To never end up in a place like this.” The ghoul cackled. He was clearly amused by his wit. I wasn’t, but I wanted to find out more about this black magic ritual, so I wisely joined the beast in laughter.

  The creature was opening up to me, confident of holding the upper hand. Maybe he needed to share his achievement with someone. I doubted he would have been so forthcoming with information if he hadn’t sensed the demon in me. We shared something in common. We were both touched by darkness. Both cursed. Cousins, united by our monstrous nature. It wasn’t all that surprising that the ghoul would feel a perverse kinship with me. At least enough of a connection to share his moment of triumph.

  “You’re saying this cemetery was going to help Lamont achieve immortality? How?”

  He regarded me for a beat, debating if he should tell me more.

  “You can talk to me. I won’t judge you, ghoul.”

  “Don’t call me that, demon. My name is Varthek.”

  It sounded like we might be getting somewhere. “You sense the darkness inside of me,” I said, my voice measured and controlled. “The demon. I’m like you.”

  These last words elicited another round of loud laughter from the pallid beast. The cave amplified his dirty guffaws.

  “You’re nothing like me, half-demon. Your kind has always looked down on me and my people. Cast out of Hell, cursed to feed on scraps while other creatures of darkness enjoyed fresh meat.”

  I considered this. He was referring to vampires, shifters, and other beasts. The things that hunted people. Things I had, until very recently, made my life’s work to exterminate. I cursed inwardly. Maybe I should have just kept my big mouth shut. “For millennia, my kind was forced to live in the shadows while Hell’s creatures could roam the surface of the Earth. No more. Tonight, everything changes. This night marks a new beginning for my kind.”

  What was Varthek babbling about? My confusion must’ve been plain to see as the ghoul said, “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

  He eased closer, inches separating us. His voice pulsed with barely contained excitement as he spoke. “Lamont hoped to conquer death. I will release it.”

  I shuddered. I sure as hell didn’t like the sound of this.

  The ghoul smiled his hideous grin, satisfied by my growing dread. “When I burrowed my way into the mage’s grave,” he said, “imagine my surprise when I realized he was still alive inside his coffin. Frail, old, dying…but still breathing. Terrified that I was about to put an end to his plan, a plan decades in the making.”

  The ghoul leaned closer, his eyes wide, barely able to contain his excitement as he spoke. “The mage had instructed his acolytes to bury him in this specially prepared cemetery while still alive. Once he was under the ground, they buried each other in the same manner. Twenty souls interred in magically marked coffins, all linked to Lamont’s sarcophagus. Cogs in the supernatural machine of the cemetery, all laid out according to the mage’s plan.”

  I thought of the matching runes and glyphs on all the tombstones. Similar markings must’ve covered the coffins which held Lamont and his followers. Each symbol a link in the chain.

  The ghoul continued, “The idea was simple. One by one, his followers would perish in their graves, the magic of the coffins and tombstones trapping their souls in this plane of existence. And once the last followers died, the channels inside Lamont’s specially marked coffin would open and he would be able to draw on their life force. Regenerate his ailing body and rise once again as a young man.”

  I was trying to picture it, the devoted followers first burying their leader and then each other, giving themselves up for a ritual that would extend their master’s life, trading their own lives in exchange for Lamont’s immortality. I wondered what sort of hold he had possessed over his flock. What strange form of mind control could convince others to sacrifice themselves?

  Perhaps his plan might have worked and the mage would be walking the Earth as a virile, vital man now. But something unexpected had happened. Before Lamont could tap into the life force of his cult followers, the ghoul had invaded his grave, hoping to find his next meal. Imagine their surprise.

  Almost as if the ghoul had read my mind, he said, “Lamont purchased the funeral home and cemetery, prepared each coffin and tombstone, turned it into one giant occult machine designed to channel the forces of life and death. But he was so focused on the ritual that he never realized I’d moved into this little kingdom and was about to become the proverbial fly in the ointment.”

  “You killed him,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

  “I think he died of fright when I broke into his coffin. Luckily, he’d been buried with his book of magic. I figured out his plan—right after I devoured his corpse.”

  The ghoul’s voice rose in intensity as he continued.“The mage’s followers perished but their souls, their life force, remained trapped within their coffins. Their combined power remains within this cemetery, waiting to be tapped. But I was missing something. The key.”

  Now it made sense. The ritual had been designed around Robert Lamont. With him gone, there had been no way for Varthek to release the power. That all changed when the mage’s daughter showed up. His blood, his flesh. She could release the magic in Lamont’s place. I remembered how Jennifer described the tombstones lighting up. The trapped spirits of her father’s followers must have reacted to her presence.

  “There’s something I still don’t understand. Ghouls are immortal already, so why perform the ritual? What do you get out of it?”

  The ghoul grinned. “Instead of offering everlasting life, it will bring everlasting death to this world.”

  I did not like the sound of that. The walls shook, dirt and pebbles raining down.

  “It’s beginning. Soon, death will spread through this city and then infect the world. My kind will once more walk the Earth without fear.”

  A fissure erupted in the cave wall, almost as if to lend weight to the ghoul’s words.

  “Don’t worry,” the ghoul added. “You won’t be around for what happens next. You’re going back to Hell where you belong, demon spawn.”

  With these words the ghoul drew Demon Slayer.

  13

  As Raven sprinted toward the mausoleum, Cormac snatched the shovel the ghoul had dropped and went to work. Jennifer lay buried in the fresh grave, and he was going to dig her up. He refused to consider the possibility that she might already be dead. Cormac was determined to save her—and he needed to work fast. Jennifer might not have much air left. With this thought driving him, he drove the shovel in the mound of dirt with all his strength and started to dig.

  Within minutes, thick drops of perspiration beaded his face, and his muscles began to ache. He had neglected his workouts as of late and was now paying the price. He blocked the discomfort and instead tried to picture Jennifer’s lovely features. Her crystal blue eyes, which had a way of lighting up every time she looked at him. Her warm smile…

  His blood turned to ice as the loosened soil suddenly dropped away, revealing a gaping cavity in the earth where the coffin should be. The pit stretched endlessly into the blackness below. The coffin had disappeared into this bottomless hole, almost as if the ground had sucked it down. Cormac wasn’t a stranger to either tragedy or horror, having fought wars both against the living and the dead, but this counted among his worst moments.

  Helplessness flooded him. For a long beat, he just stood, frozen in tableau, the mud-encrusted shovel gripped tight in his sweaty hands.

  And then he heard the gunfire. Followed by a piercing shriek and a scream. Raven was battling the ghoul in the in the impenetrable blackness below. Risking his life to save Jennifer while Cormac stood
here like a fool. He wasn’t a coward. On the contrary, he hadn’t become a decorated soldier by twiddling his thumbs while others got their hands dirty. Not then, not now. He had to get down there, ASAP. He turned away from the open grave and tore toward the mausoleum. The gothic structure loomed at the center of the cemetery, a morbid eyesore. Who could be interred within its walls? Probably some rich guy who had wanted to ride into the great beyond in style. Just another fool who clung to his status symbols even in death.

  Clearing his mind, the Glock ready for action, he stepped into the shadowy crypt. He quickly located the open coffin with the hole leading into the blackness below. This was how Raven must have entered the ghoul’s underground kingdom.

  A sharp pang of fear gripped him. What was he doing? Did he really stand a chance against the monster who dwelled below?

  He gritted his teeth and gave himself an internal push. Do it for Jennifer, he thought. Without further hesitation, he dropped into the tunnel. Darkness enveloped him, and he wished he had a flashlight. The light on his cell would have to do. As he thumbed it on, he saw that the battery was at thirty percent. The light wouldn’t last long.

  He couldn’t let it stop him. Jennifer and Raven were in danger. And he was the next best thing to the cavalry.

  He surged down the sloping tunnel. This truly was another world. How could he hope to find his friends down here? Especially with a monster on the loose. And what if the ghoul wasn’t alone? What if more of his kind lurked in the shadows?

  He pressed on despite his fear. Cellphone in one hand, the Glock with the silver bullets in the other. As he moved down the tunnel, he heard voices. Correction, one voice. Male. And it wasn’t Raven’s. Which meant that it had to be the ghoul. He tried to home in on the grating sound and use it to guide to him through the maze. The creature’s incessant chattering suggested he had an audience. At least one of Cormac’s friends was still alive.

  The ghoul’s voice led Cormac down two more tunnels, growing louder and more distinct with each new step he took. He had almost reached his destination. Suddenly another voice drifted towards him, and he almost whooped in relief. It was Raven. He would know what to do, and together they’d defeat the ghoul and rescue Jennifer.

  Up ahead, the tunnel curved, and as he passed the next bend, a larger chamber opened before him. An unexpected, surreal sight awaited. The ghoul was pointing both Raven’s pistol and sword at him, clearly gearing up for the death blow.

  As the glowing sword cut through the air, Cormac fired.

  14

  Demon Slayer hurtled toward me, promising death.

  And that’s when the air exploded with gunfire. Both the ghoul and I whipped around to face the new arrival at the entrance of the cave. Cormac had arrived! This was the second time the psychic had saved my life since our paths had crossed.

  His silver bullet missed the ghoul and ricocheted off the walls, but it was the distraction I needed to launch a counter attack.

  As the ghoul spun toward Cormac, the sword wavered, and I launched myself at the creature. With a bestial war cry more demonic than human, I slammed into the monster, and we both went down in a heap of tangled limbs. Demon Slayer clattered to the ground.

  A punch from my gloved demon hand connected, and the ghoul’s head snapped back in a spray of black blood. I wasn’t done yet. In fact, I was just getting started.

  As the ghoul reached for the sword, I staggered erect. Before his claws could close around the hilt of the sword on the cavern floor, my booted foot crunched down on his outstretched hand. A shriek of pain exploded from the beast’s fishy lips.

  I displayed zero hesitation as my demon hand snapped around the creature’s throat. I could hear flesh and bone giving way as I lifted the ghoul into the air like a puppet. Incredible strength roared through my body. I had never felt more powerful in my life. With Cyon’s demonic power surging through me, I was a true force to be reckoned with.

  “You dare raise a blade against one of Hell’s legion, scavenger.”

  My voice didn’t even sound human anymore as the ghoul’s bones creaked beneath the iron grasp my demon hand, his pink eyes rolling back. I was killing the creature. And enjoying every second of it.

  What had I turned into?

  The ghoul, so menacing mere moments earlier, had become pitiful. As if struck by a hot iron, I released the creature, and his pallid form slumped to the floor. I shook all over, stunned by the animal savagery of my actions. Somewhere, I could hear Cyon roar in triumph.

  I had slain many a monster over the years, but never like this, never with my bare hands, never with my gaze pinned on the enemy’s suffering eyes as the light left them. Never with such a sense of savage joy.

  I towered over my defeated foe, sucked in the foul smelling underground air, and tasted blood. I felt my lips twist into a mad grin. For a second, my wild gaze found Cormac, and seeing the shock in the psychic’s face gave me pause. His expression was like a mirror, a reminder of what I had become.

  “Don’t get squeamish on me now, Raven!” Cyon exclaimed. “You’re truly a monster slayer. A monster who slays other monsters.”

  I couldn’t argue with the demon’s words. There had been something so animalistic about this kill. So inhuman.

  The ghoul let out a pitiful croak from his mangled throat. To my surprise, the creature was still alive even though I had crushed his windpipe. The ghoul clung with fierce determination to his undead existence. His eyes were wide and clear, and I could have sworn there was wild smile etched in the dying beast’s face.

  “You’re too late.” The ghoul whispered as the cave was rocked by another quake. I could sense the earth moving around us. What sort of hellish madness had the fiend unleashed?

  “Soon my kind will walk this earth and mankind will be forgotten in the ruins of your cities. You won’t be able to stop the death force.”

  The grin froze on Varthek’s face as the last vestiges of life slipped away from him. The ghoul was finally dead. But his ominous words lingered as the shaking intensified around me.

  I quickly scooped up my sword and Hellseeker. As I sheathed the blade and holstered my blessed pistol, I turned toward Cormac. The psychic instinctively backed away from me. And who could blame him after seeing me destroy a monster with my bare hands? Did he suspect that I was possessed?

  “How?” was all he managed.

  For now, Cormac would have to accept my silence as an answer. There were more pressing matters on my mind as the vibrations around us increased. The whole cavern was going to come down at any moment, and I had no wish to be buried beside the ghoul.

  “We need to get out of here! Now!”

  My words seemed to reach the psychic as he fell in step with me, albeit reluctantly. Almost as if he suddenly remembered what had brought him down here in the first place, he stopped and said, “I’m not leaving without Jennifer…”

  My hand shot out and connected with the psychic’s chin. Knocked unconscious by the punch, Cormac collapsed. I marveled at my new ruthless streak. I wanted to save the woman, but getting ourselves buried alive below this cemetery wasn’t going to help her. Right now, we needed to get back to the surface, where we could strategize our next move without the world crashing down around us.

  I effortlessly scooped up the psychic’s unconscious form and flung him over my shoulder. Next, I marched out of the cave and surged down the tunnels, retracing my steps from earlier. Earth rained down on me as I fought my way back to the surface.

  After what seemed like an eternity but probably hadn’t been more than five minutes, I emerged from the dark tunnel system and climbed out of the hole in the coffin. Compared to the pitch-black world below, the faded moonlight seeping into the oversized crypt felt like the midday sun.

  I strode with strong steps out of the mausoleum, Cormac still on my back. A breeze greeted me, and I sucked in a lungful of oxygen, welcoming the crisp night air after having inhaled the rot of the ghoul’s underground lair for the last hal
f hour. Cormac let out a moan. The man was regaining consciousness. I gently lowered him to the ground and slapped him awake. His eyes groggily rolled open.

  “Sorry, buddy, but you left me no choice.”

  He stared at me as if I was a stranger.

  “What happened to you? You’re not the same man…”

  I’ve changed, I thought bitterly.

  Changed for the better, Cyon insisted. When I first met you, Raven, you were but a boy struggling to step out of his mentor’s shadow. Skulick’s little pawn. I made you a man, Raven.

  Or was it a monster? At this point I couldn’t tell the difference any longer.

  Another rumble sent shivers through the cemetery grounds and the grave markers bobbed up and down, the glyphs going supernova.

  You’re too late! The ghoul’s words echoed in my mind. I’d lost the girl, killed the only creature who could have shed light on this situation, and terrified my only friend. Could this night get any worse?

  A hail of lead chopped the headstones next to me. Bullets pockmarked the graves, pinging off stone and wood, and I hurled myself behind the nearest tombstone. Stealing a glance from behind the worn stone, I spotted three heavily armed figures emerging from behind one of the crypts.

  The White Crescent had found me.

  15

  More Vatican commandos charged into the moonlit burial ground, emerging from behind the rough-edged tombstones. How many men was the White Crescent sending after me?

  “Looks like all of them,” Cyon said.

  No shit.

  After my last confrontation in the park, they sure as hell weren’t taking any chances. And they couldn’t have picked a worse moment to make their entrance. Talk about some sucky timing.

  I was still debating what to do next, all too aware of the continuous vibrations shaking the graveyard. I could try to take out the team members one by one—and a part of me wanted to squeeze the trigger and let loose, but that was the demon inside of me talking.