Tesser: A Dragon Among Us (A Reemergence Novel)

by Philbrook, Chris

  "Good on you, Abraham!" Mr. Doyle yelled, a huge grin on his face. He swapped the magazine in his pistol.

  Spoon's mind snapped back into action. We're buttonholed up in this entranceway, and that spider is going to kill us. The soldier's brain worked overtime now, taking in the entire scene. Tesser was locked in a three-pronged battle in the center of the room near Kaula's body.

  The worm thing with a hundred baby arms was trying to pin Tesser's half dragon-half giant body down with its massive girth. Teeth snapped shut on the air as it tried to bite the dragon. The thing was ten feet long, and it must've weighed two thousand pounds. Tesser had one long arm outstretched with a claw at its neck, holding it at bay. His right claw was slashing like a flurry of broadswords, ripping the flesh of the dragon clone straight from the bone. The monster cackled madly as its dark blood flew through the air. Tesser paused his slashing and spat out a rope of white-hot flame into the face of a creature that looked like a bear mixed with a toxic, orange octopus. The creature erupted into flames and staggered back wildly, trying to extinguish the most powerful fire in all of existence. It was engulfed though, and on the floor in a moment, dissolving under the intensity of the fire. More lumbering monsters in a myriad of shapes were closing in on him. Nearby, Kaula sat impassive, drugged, and still.

  He's holding his own for now, but he's going to need help fast. Spoon looked at the massive arachnid marching at them and a plan formed in his head. They couldn't help the dragon until the spider was dead.

  "Blind it! Shoot it in the fucking eyeballs!" Spoon yelled, and all three men lifted their weapons and fired. Spoon's M4 dumped the entire magazine before Doyle and Abe emptied their guns. Hooray for a high cyclic rate. Spoon was on the move, dropping the empty mag and slapping in a new one. He aimed and dumped that magazine straight into what passed for the face of the giant spider. It screeched in pain.

  We're hurting it.

  Spoon changed mags again, moving fast. The monster was halted, and when it hesitated, Spoon took three steps at it and ripped another long burst at one of the thing's hind legs, severing it completely, letting out a flash flood of viscous yellow-white gore. The creature staggered, losing its balance for a moment. Spoon twisted and dumped another fifteen rounds into the leg nearest to him, blasting it free from the body. The creature's enormous weight bogged down the five remaining legs, and it swayed, barely staying up.

  From the hall Mr. Doyle stepped out and produced a small leather bag from his belt of tricks. He sheathed his pistol as Spoon reloaded, and with both hands threw the contents of the bag at the daemon spider. Tiny shards of metal spilled out, and just before they were about to hit the floor impotently, Mr. Doyle spoke a single calm phrase.

  "Crescat, et fuge." The shards of metal leapt out, launched from the floor they were headed to and sprayed at the spider. They grew in size until they were the size of gleaming steel machetes spinning with the ferocity of a chainsaw. The whirling blades bit into the white carapace and flesh of the swollen misshaped spider, tearing large pieces free and sending more thick, pus-like blood than could be imagined all about. The floor was slick with it now.

  "Fuck yes!" Spoon screamed as his bolt returned forward, chambering a fresh round. He put a tight grouping into another leg of the spider and finally it went down. It hit the floor like the body of a massive alien steer and made a whining, whimpering noise that reminded Spoon of a hundred dying babies screaming in unison.

  Abe limped out of the hall into the massive room and shut the cylinder of his Enfield. Without fear, he stepped up to the face of the monster, just out of the reach of its spasming fangs. He pointed the gun at the center of the beast and squeezed the trigger until his gun stopped firing. Gray jets of foulness shot into the air from where his heavy enchanted bullets struck, and when the gun clicked empty, he wiped the filth from his face and spat.

  "Eat my ass," Abe said.

  The monster exploded.

  All three men were tossed backwards through the air as if a massive landmine had been stepped on. Spoon landed on a desk, then slid over it and hit the floor on his shoulder. His collarbone strained and nearly cracked under his own weight. A sharp jab of pain hit him at his shoulder joint, but the bones stayed where they belonged. Mostly. Fuck that hurt.

  Spoon was up quickly and took in the scene, wincing in pain. Mr. Doyle had gotten lucky. He'd been tossed clear back towards the relative safety of the door they'd come through. Nothing had stopped his flight path, so he'd landed on the floor and skidded along, relatively safely. He'll be back in the fight in a minute. Just need to help Tesser buy some time and hold on.

  Abe had hit a desk the same as Spoon, but instead of landing atop it, he'd hit the front of it, back first. He was slumped sitting on the floor, face on his chest, red blood running down his neck from a wound on the back of his head. Shit. He's done. Might be dead. Goddamn it.

  Tesser was still at perilous war with the creature surrounding him. He'd ripped the face off of the worm. All of the faces. Spoon did a quick count of the daemons still remaining and got to five before Tesser was attacked by a new thing. It was ropy, and other than the fleshy bag of a torso it dragged on the floor behind it, it was made entirely of tentacles covered in fishhook barbs. As Tesser stood toe-to-toe with the false dragon creature that mimicked him, the octopus daemon launched itself at his back. Too many tendrils to count wrapped around and up over the dragon's torso, the barbs digging into the scales with alarming effectiveness. Tesser roared in pain as his arms were lashed with the ripping tentacles, immobilizing him.

  I can't get a shot. I can't get a fucking shot. Shit shit shit.

  "Tesser shift! Go big!" Spoon screamed.

  "I can't!" He roared. There was confusion in his voice. Something very wrong was happening to him.

  Tesser's arms were ripped wide, spread like he was about to be crucified. The dragon shaped daemon roared in delight, mocking Tesser and spreading his arms as well. "I may not be able to kill you, but you shall suffer, dragon! No sleep for you this time! Just pain. Eternal pain!"

  Out of the fleshy knot at the center of the tentacle creature another massive appendage appeared. It rose high into the air and was tipped with a clear spike. That looks like a fang. As Spoon watched, a green fluid pushed towards the tip of the tentacle fang, and it reared back to stab Tesser in his exposed throat.

  He's a goner if that hits.

  "Does this bring back any memories dragon? So much like the last time you challenged me. You never learn, dragon," the daemonic dragon taunted.

  Without thinking Spoon raised his weapon exhaled softly and calmly shot the fang off the tentacle. It burst in a halo of wet acidity, and the slimy appendage writhed in agony, flinging more of the green fluid around the room. Wherever it hit a hissing sound came, followed shortly by smoke, and the smell of burning. Tesser tried to recoil from the eruption, but he was held firm. He wound up being sprayed by the acid and many of the scales on his face and chest began to melt away, leaving raw pink flesh exposed. He roared in pain.

  The white daemon looked beyond Tesser and saw Spoon standing there, holding his weapon. The thing was enraged. "KILL THEM!" the dragon mockery bellowed. Three of the monsters turned their attention from encircling Tesser and started towards Spoon.

  I've only got five magazines left. I don't think that'll be enough to kill all these daemons.

  From the corner of his eye Spoon saw Mr. Doyle appear. He had drawn his longsword from his hip again. Much like the gem-encrusted scabbard that held the weapon, the sword was similarly bedecked in ornamentation. Of course, you could hardly see it through the blue arcs of electricity running up and down the blade now. The blade was now charged with the power of a lightning bolt. With a joyful whoop, Mr. Doyle brought the blade down in a slash that completely split a daemon monster in half. A sound like the crash of thunder filled the room, and bruised Spoon's eardrum. One side of the monster, the one that looked like snakes fell to the floor wetly, snapping its limb-serpents aro
und while the other side, the one that looked like a piranha flopped down, instantly dead. There was no explosion, just Mr. Doyle's celebration. He spun the sword around his body like Conan, arcs of electricity creating a dangerous halo around his body.

  "Not just yet, daemon. You've yet to hear my voice in the matter, and I love a good conversation. Shall we debate the merits of you going and fucking yourself?" Mr. Doyle asked the thing absurdly.

  Two insane creatures closed in on Mr. Doyle, both the size of refrigerators. One had pincers on each of its four arms large enough to pick up and rend a steel drum. Behind them, Tesser was still screaming in pain and the creature with the tentacles had grown another tail with a stinger.

  I hope that sword doesn't run out of ammunition because things do not look good.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Alec

  Alec was crying.

  There are few real things that a human being can experience that are truly chilling. Really and truly frightening, not like a movie thrill, or the discomfort one experiences when reading a scary book alone late at night. When a parent hears a cry of pain from their child, or when you see something that shouldn't be there, like the image of a dead relative in the mirror, a human might be chilled.

  Alec was finding out that the cries of a dragon in pain were chilling. It was a primal response that required no thinking, like a rabbit hiding from the shadow of a hawk, or the octopus that squirts ink when fleeing from a predator. Hearing the dragon roar in pain was alien and frightening. On some level he didn't know he had, Alec understood that a dragon should never be in pain. They should never, ever be harmed because they are integral to something larger than he could understand. If I had ever heard the purple dragon make that noise, I would set her free. How could my father allow her to be taken? He must've heard her cries of anguish. Who was my father really? What good are we really doing keeping her here?

  Alec was sitting in an uncomfortable, blue plastic chair in the center of the room. He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked around the small room. Standing at the door, flanking the drying bloody contract on the wall were two of Mr. Host's men. They stood hunched over slightly, breathing heavy and making strange expressions every few seconds. They were detached, almost not even in their skin, and they were paying little attention to what was happening in the room. One of them is drooling.

  Alec looked over at the heavily breathing Matty. She too seemed too restless in her drugged up state. What do I do? What can I do? I'm a prisoner here. Alec looked back at the two guards. One of them had rolled his eyes up, leaving nothing but white visible. Alec stood, and after pausing to see if they would react, he walked over to Matty's bedside.

  Fuck this empire. I need to do something. I may die tonight, but I am going to set this woman free. Maybe she and her unborn child can escape and have a good life, far from me and this fucked up life I've made for myself. Alec reached out to pull Matty's IV, but the moment his finger touched her flesh, he felt an electrical jolt and the world went black.

  A moment later (or was it ten years?) he opened his eyes and he was in the same room, but things were different. A picture of a Japanese village hung on the wall where a landscape had been before, and Matty wasn't in the bed. Instead, it was a completely different woman. This lady was pretty, almost to the point of seeming created and not natural. But Alec knew she was real. She had Asian descent in her eyes and skin tone, and despite her unnatural paleness and the sweat on her brow she radiated some kind of warmth. It pleased him to stand near her. It was fading though, and fading fast.

  She opened her eyes slowly and cracked the faintest of tired smiles. She had intense violent colored eyes. "You must be Alec, the son."

  Who is this? Why do I know her? "Yes."

  "I never got to talk with your father before he died. I understand he was a man of tremendous achievement," the woman said. She coughed.

  "Yes. Who are you? You're familiar to me. I know you."

  She nodded meekly. "I am Kaula. The dragon you have had kept in a coma for a little over ten years, Alec. I've tried to reach out to you, but Legion has kept us apart."

  Good lord. Her eyes. And her hair, it's a shade of dark purple too. "You can shape shift. Amazing. Are you in pain? I was assured you were brain dead. I'm so sorry, Kaula."

  She nodded again, as if she understood and believed him. Alec was relieved. "How much you've been manipulated saddens me. I am in constant pain, Alec. So little of me is left inside now. I'm rotten to the core. Maggoty. This conversation could be the end of me, but that's alright. I've led a very long life. Will you help me? Will you help the world? Bring magic back? Give life back to the things that have seen their essence fade away? Make it all right again?"

  Alec nodded emphatically, understanding without question that her course of action would help the world far more than the one his company had pursued for so long at her expense. "Of course. This has gone too far. I never wanted so much pain and suffering and death. Just tell me what to do."

  "It will not be easy."

  "I do the impossible all the time, Kaula. I need this insanity to stop. I can't keep going on like this."

  "It will mean giving up everything, Alec. But it will mean saving the world."

  I'm not going to like this. Alec's voice was shaky, but he had the courage to say what needed to be said. "Tell me what to do."

  *****

  A few minutes later Alec came to in the still room. He looked over to make sure his remaining guards were still far and away, then pulled out Matty's IVs and lifted her oxygen mask off. A small squirt of blood jetted out from the hole where the needle came from, but it stopped quickly, and she was otherwise unhurt. Alec brushed her dark hair off a sweaty brow and hoped she was okay. He could hear more violence coming from down the hall in the main dragon observatory. He wiped the wet tears from his cheek. I know what to do now.

  "Alec…" Matty whispered out of a dry mouth. "You prick."

  Well, when you're right, you're right. Alec shushed her softly. "Matty, quiet. We're in danger. Another dragon is here. Several actually. They're destroying the facility."

  She perked up considerably. "It's Tesser. He's here to save Kaula and me."

  "Yes, it would seem that way. You talked to Kaula, too?"

  "Yeah, in a dream. She spoke with me. Undo my hands, Alec. Let me go. Please, I'm pregnant."

  Alec shook his head. "Not yet, Matty. You need to be kept safe. I'm not scared anymore. I know what to do."

  "What? Free me, Alec. I can help. I just need to be let go…" Matty struggled against her bonds, but she was exhausted and weak.

  Alec fixed her hair again. "It's okay. They'll come for you soon. It'll all be over in a few minutes. I can undo it all. I understand so much of this was a great big mistake, but I can make it right. Kaula told me how." Alec turned and lifted a bag of saline solution from her IV stand. He removed a small syringe from a chest nearby and walked over to the white wall where his blood had helped him write a new deal between he and the daemon his father had summoned to this world. One of the guards, the one with the rolled up eyes suddenly came to, and stared at him as he stabbed the needle into the bag. He drew the plunger back and filled it with the clear solution.

  One of the guards stepped forward, alarmed. "Mr. Fitzgerald, what are you doing?"

  Fucking you over. "Righting some wrongs my family has made."

  The other guard suddenly snapped to attention and drew his sidearm. When he spoke, he spoke in Mr. Host's voice. "Now let's not make a hasty decision, Alec. Years of hard work… We can't just throw it away. We can discuss changes to the terms of the contract when things have settled down. Think of your safety, Alec. Changing the deal now would be catastrophic."

  Alec ignored the daemon and squeezed the syringe out, drawing a line of fluid on the white wall above his bloody writing. It started to run down, ruining the words he'd written, sending pink, watery streaks down to the floor. He stabbed the needle back into the bag to refill it
.

  The guard lifted his gun and pointed it at his face. "Stop or we'll be forced to shoot you."

  "You can't shoot me. It's in the contract. The original contract my father drew up. Shrewd guy, my dad. You can't kill me. You can't even hurt me. All these years, I never remembered the fine print of that dusty old piece of evil. I was so scared. Scared of failing my father. Scared of you, but you know what? I'm not scared anymore. I talked to Kaula. She told me what I had to hear. What I wanted to hear all along."

  The guard's face rippled, as if a stone had been thrown into the water of his skin. He shook his head and suddenly he was Mr. Host. "How? There were precise instructions. Measures taken. You were to have NO contact with the dragon."

  "Oh, Mr. Host," Alec said as he sprayed another stream of saline into the words. "You can't stop dragons. You can only hope to contain them, and even that doesn't last, now does it?"

  "You'll pay for this treachery, Fitzgerald. Your family will be cursed for the rest of time for this. You'll die slowly. Painfully," Mr. Host spat, his features twisting into a devilish caricature of himself.

  "That's not the plan I have. Mr. Host, I renounce this contract. I'm sure my lawyers would agree it was signed under duress," Alec said as he used his very expensive shirtsleeve to wipe away all the blood, destroying the newly minted contract.

  From the other room where the battle waged on, Alec heard a tremendous cry of pain. Except this time, it wasn't the sound of a dragon in pain.

  This time, it was Mr. Host.

  Alec sat the bag down, and bit the cut on his finger, setting free a new stream of blood. He started to write something new on the wall. A new contract that would help set things right.