by C Bilici
They would come again, this time in an attempt to rescue the creature, and he would be ready for them.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
BACK TO BACK, Fenton looking forward as Stacey watched the rear — literally, she realised — they travelled without word.
“You know this is a trap, right?”
“Undoubtedly. Which is why you shouldn’t have come.”
She wasn’t sure how to react to his calm and almost concerned demeanour. She knew he wasn’t concerned for himself, which made it all the more odd.
She chose to ignore him.
“He wants you to come looking for Godfrey. Knows you will.”
He didn’t say anything, instead, he concentrated on scanning the darkness for any sign of an attack, of which there seemed to be none forthcoming.
Stacey never thought she would find herself back in the Void again, let alone voluntarily. Looking down, she saw the giant legs of her avatar stretching before her, and the giant, tight buttocks.
“Watching the rear,” Stacey muttered to herself. “But, damn, I make ‘em good.”
If he’d heard her, Fenton chose not to comment, unlike the avatar, who squeezed them together in response, eliciting a chuckle from Stacey.
“Do try to keep your minds on the job,” Fenton said.
Yeah, he’d heard.
“That’s more like it,” Stacey said. “Grumpy bastard. Anyway, it was Danica’s fault.”
“Danica?” He was quiet a moment, distracted. “You finally named her, then?”
“Yep. It means ‘morning star’ in Slovenian. Or was it Slovakian?” She was rambling from nerves. The silence of this place was worse than anything, reminding her so much of the recent events. “Something with an S,” she said in a low tone. “Why was Godfrey all demon-like when he rescued me, anyway? Danica looks the same.” She didn’t mention his name. Wouldn’t. “And where were you, you lazy fucker?” She’d never had the chance to ask.
Now would be her only shot.
“I was here,” he said. “You just couldn’t see me. As to why he changed and Danica hasn’t? I assume it has something to do with my ‘guest’.”
Nodding, she tried to think of something else to talk about to get her mind off her fear, but there was no way it couldn’t be at the forefront.
If they failed, they both faced certain death. If they succeeded, at least one of them would receive the same fate.
At least it would be on their own terms. She understood that was why he’d agreed to the plan. He’d lost it all, now had this thing living inside him. Choice had been taken away from him his whole adult life. She doubted the thing would let its claws out of him easily.
“What does she think of her given name?” Fenton asked, breaking the silence.
“Oh, she loves it. Danica the Dark Destroyer, is her full name. It’s very roller derby.”
“I’ll bet. Your description of the game and it’s rules earlier made it sound very… intriguing.”
Her lips parted but no words would come. “Yeah,” she said. “You would have liked it, I think” she said.
Tears stung her eyes and she fought them back.
“You’d better come back or I will haunt you!” Jasper had said.
“I think that’s the other way around, love,” Stacey said, laughing as she was showered with kisses, Jasper’s uncontrolled tears wetting her face.
When her lover had finally released her, Charlie had taken Stacey in her arms in a rare hug. “Give ‘em hell,” she said, metal fist out.
“You and your big balls,” Stacey had said, bumping fists. Stacey’s eyes had been unable to leave the huge device Charlie had built in the bright space, a dead weight growing within her chest. “Do you think it will work?” she asked, tone flat.
“Only one way to be sure.”
Not knowing what to expect from the device, all Stacey could picture in her mind was a giant mushroom cloud.
“You may as well give up playing lookout,” Fenton said. “We have a clear path.” He pointed in another direction.
He was right, and that was more disturbing than if they’d been shadowed by a horde of creatures. They were being invited in.
Stacey brought Danica to a stop and leapt from her back, Fenton following her with a shake of his head.
“This is bullshit! The fucker is playing with us.” Stacey looked around. “Come out, you gutless wanker!”
In the distance, a shape emerged from the maddening backdrop and grew into the Shadow Man, arms and lips spread wide in greeting. Behind him, Godfrey stood completely still, covered in a dark shroud that billowed from neck to feet.
“Welcome back,” the Shadow Man said, oozing malevolent charm. “We missed you both dearly.”
The lights in the giant knight’s eyes were dim and Stacey could see no sign of what might be causing his vegetative state.
“What have you done to him?” Fenton called out.
“He’s been keeping me company and telling me the most wonderful stories.” He looked the female avatar behind the Wards up and down. “I’m starting to wish I’d waited, though, and made acquaintances with this stunning creature instead.”
Danica’s nose wrinkled in disgust as she sneered at the thing before her.
“She says you’re a filthy twat, and she wouldn’t wipe her arse with you if she had diarrhoea in a forest of brambles.”
The Shadow Man laughed and clapped his hands. “Bravo. A tad vulgar for my tastes, but highly amusing, much like her mistress.” He wiped a dark tear from an eye and breathed a sigh. “Now, let’s talk terms of surrender.”
“Very well,” Fenton said in an even tone. “Hand over Godfrey and I won’t carve you to pieces like your worm and Tammy. I’ll make your end as quick as I can.” Fenton was unblinking, emotionless.
“I was thinking rather the same thing, but reversed. With the addition that I won’t kill you at all, instead offering you both the opportunity to join me. I’d return your precious avatar to you, of course, and giving you undreamt of power. The same goes for you, Stacey. Clean slate. What do you say?”
“That is an interesting counter offer,” Fenton said. “I believe my apprentice can succinctly reply for the both of us.”
Lifting her hand with mid finger extended high, Stacey smiled wide.
“A shame.” The Shadow Man shook his head, a solemn expression on his face. “That pretty little digit will make a nice trophy, though. Perhaps a necklace.”
Above the two Wards, Danica burst into action. One of her clubs flew at the Shadow Man, flames billowing from the spikes on its bulbous extension. The cable that tethered it to her belt sang as it spooled out. The club struck, and the billowing conflagration burst into a fireball.
Hardly able to believe it had been so easy, Stacey looked to Fenton, whose eyes widened. Stacey turned to see the club rush in their direction. Danica flicked the steel cable and diverted its course high to return to her hand.
The Shadow Man was no longer visible. In his place was the blade of a giant scythe, from behind which he now stepped, patting the tree sized wooden staff resting in Godfrey’s hand.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I may have spoiled him a little with a few gifts.”
The scythe swept up and spun in those massive, bony hands. Godfrey’s dark cloak fluttered, revealing it to be a voluminous robe. Now holding the weapon reversed, the giant pulled open the robe to reveal what lay beneath, bidden by the Shadow Man. Armour and clothing missing, the avatars rotten flesh was pierced with Umbra. It covered his limbs like an invasive, veined moss, intertwined through his ribs. It released the dark garment to fall back into place and pulled up a hood.
“A little cliché, perhaps,” the Shadow Man said of the reaper beside him, “but given his role in my plans for the total annihilation of the Wards, I believe it to be fitting.”
Evidently having had more than enough talking, the Shadow Man flicked his fingers in their direction, as if brushing away a bug, and Godfrey answ
ered his command.
Danica jumped over their heads to meet Godfrey head on, but they had no time to watch the two avatar battle. The air around them thickened as a giant, chaotic sphere appeared around them, made up of a mess of black webs. Stacey felt a change in pressure within her body that signalled the activation of the blocking shield. Through the weaved dark matter, she saw creatures amass to peer in at them, jeering with bloodlust, like spectators at a cage match.
They were all human, or had once been.
“The prisoners,” Stacey said, looking around at the hundreds of humanoid forms.
“I knew that wouldn’t escape your attention,” the Shadow Man said, voice full of pride. “Not all prisoners, though. Some of them are your fellow Wards, who gladly joined our ranks.” He waved his arms about him, leering at the dome. “As you see, we have been busy.”
His arms still outstretched, he waved his fingers inward in a come-hither motion and two dark forms slipped through the net to glide through the air at his intended targets. One descended on Stacey, body spread like a skydiver. Almost upon her, its form shifted into that of a predator. The giant Doberman loped through the air at her.
Stacey slipped around her attacker, turned to see it come at her again in a lazy arc, foam staining its muzzle as it growled. It was toying with her, and she was in no mood. She lifted her hand and pointed it at the dog-thing with her own growl. Her expression was replaced with terror as nothing happened. She glanced about to see Danica occupied, clashing with Godfrey the reaper, Fenton in a similar predicament as herself with the other dog. “Fenton!” she yelled out.
“I know,” he responded in anger, “but I’m a little preoccupied!”
The other dog had been far more direct than her own, morphing into a black nightmare thing that was part octopus. Its head and body were recognisable as Doberman, though the multitude of barbed and clawed tendrils that flowed out from where its legs should be were clearly inspired elsewhere. As the monster thing flew about Fenton, lashing out at him, she saw its underbelly had split into another larger mouth, full of eyes, teeth and tentacles. It had raced at Fenton, limbs undulating through the space, stretching and reaching in anticipation. The things eyes projected eagerness to bleed him.
Fenton’s arm shifted colour as it flicked out, a barbed chain cleaving the thing in two with a howling death cry. The pieces drifted apart, and turned to decay that merged back into the Void.
Watching casually from the sidelines, the Shadow Man seemed to have expected the attack, unresponsive to the death of his latest soldier. Lifting his hand, he sent handfuls more in after Fenton, the other dog diverting from Stacey, who floated, cowering.
What came next, though, Stacey was certain he had not expected.
The throng closed on Fenton, and he gave her a nod.
Stacey pulled the grey strap from the band of her jeans and slapped it over her forearm. The thing glowed, and she stabbed at the broken mosaic of glass, a smirk on her face as she looked up at the Shadow man, his face curious. She lifted her hand to her lips, and blew him a very special kiss, the blast hitting him in the shoulder and sending him tumbling. She lifted her other hand at the Doberman speeding at Fenton.
The puckered hole under its tail exploded, as did its head. Legs still kicking at the air, it flew apart around Fenton.
Eyes wide, dark veins protruding at his temples, the Shadow Man reached out a hand and gestured at the shield. His other hand joined in as nothing happened.
Stacey flicked her head at Danice, who spun from Godfrey, took the red handled club from her belt, and sent it soaring as she spun it about. A jet if fire licked at the shield, which caught alight, crumbling to ash in the wake of the flames.
Lips pulled back, the Shadow Man bellowed a roar that built in volume. He waved his hand in a circle above his head, then thrust it at the interlopers.
The waiting mass of Umbra held back no more.
Fighting back to back, firing indiscriminately, Fenton and Stacey destroyed Umbra in all directions, all the while closing on to the two fighting giants.
Danica whirled her four clubs deftly about her in intricate patterns, unleashing them when the reaper swung and slashed with its scythe, blocking and knocking them back, equally skilled. Stacey watched in awe, almost forgetting the onslaught upon them, as Danica swung two of her clubs about her body before hurling them at a rush of Umbra that was sent to distract her. The cable of the juggling clubs twisted together, one issuing fire as the other blew up a tornado, both combining into a fiery twister that consumed her targets.
During her birth, inspired by Fenton’s story of how Godfrey had been imbued with flames, Stacey had assigned each of the four elements to each club, and now she was thankful that she had.
The reaper took full opportunity of the distraction and swung its weapon two handed, batting aside the still tangled clubs. The impact caused the blade to glance off course, the handle twisting in his grip. But the heavy head of the scythe still connected with Danica, knocking her over.
Danica fought to regain balance and direction, but Godfrey got to her first.
The scythe fell in an overhead blow.
Danica crossed two clubs to block the weapon, and in doing so she prevented her abdomen being bisected. But the long, curved blade struck her chest.
The avatar bellowed, and so did Stacey. Her ribs exploded in sharp pain. She looked down, expecting to see dark blood from a matching wound, but realised the pain was a shared experience. That in itself was so bad that she could barely use her left arm. She turned on instinct, and caught an Umbra man that was almost on her in the face with a shot, then chanced a look back to Danica.
Despite her wound, the avatar fought on with renewed fervour.
The reaper attempted to pull the scythe through her chest sideways and cleaved Danica open, but she held the blade tight in gloved hands, her other hands on the staff. Godfrey pushed and pulled, roaring.
Stacey’s shoulder burned with the sympathetic pain and she let out a cry, arm now tight against her chest.
“We… have to stop Godfrey,” she managed to say to Fenton.
He turned to see the situation as Godfrey kicked down, dislodging Danica from his weapon. The blade tore from her chest and hands. Stacey and Danica yelled as one. The reaper surged forward in triumph, lifting the blade high for the final blow.
The wood above its hand exploded, ripping the handle apart, and the reaper stumbled back.
Fenton lowered his hand, his body ablaze with sigils and the lines that held back the creature within. He put his hands on Stacey’s shoulders. “You’ve done your part.”
She felt a push, and Stacey flew to Danica, the Umbra following close behind. Danica pulled Stacey to her chest, where an enormous limb held her close, keeping her safe as the avatar fought off the attacking foot soldiers.
Through tears of pain, Stacey could only watch as the reaper discarded the broken weapon, opened its robe, and found the the hilt of Godfrey’s sword. Before it could draw the blade, its body was rocked by blast after blast that tore through Umbra and avatar alike, pushing it back.
Fenton continued the unrelenting assault, his face showing the physical and emotional pain of attacking his friend. His flesh began to change colour as he drew on the creature within. Stacey could feel the things mad laughter, getting louder the more he used it, the ink in its cage weakening. The joy turned to a psychic bellow of rage as he severed its influence.
Stacey knew it was biding its time. He wouldn’t be able to sustain the offencive for long under his own power. His sigils would soon burn out.
They needed more time.
Pressing through the pain, Stacey pushed out of Danica’s hold to send her own energy at the reaper. At her back, she felt the beat of the giants heart and the warmth of her body. It felt like home. Like putting on her favourite overlarge jumper in the winter. They truly were one. Connected.
Watching Fenton fight Godfrey, with the new understanding she had gleaned in
that moment, she felt a tightness in her chest. With a heavy heart, she watched him beat the knight back.
The dark robe and growth over Godfrey’s body was in tatters and the avatar, losing strength, stumbled.
Fenton took the opportunity. He tore off his clothes, the garments floating away. His body lit up. Every inch of his flesh was covered with sigils, and he put them all into a sustained stream.
Godfrey roared as the beam worked over his body, steaming away the blackness. Fenton spun about Godfrey, focusing the energy on the infected flesh. The robe was soon no more, leaving only the stringy veins within his body to burst and burn as the light played through his desiccated ribs.
Just as it had come, the assault ceased.
The creature slowly lifted his head and looked to the Ward floating before him, spent of all energy. Godfrey moved to within easy reach, but it seemed he could not lift his burnt limbs. Stacey thought she saw a spark of recognition lit in the flames of his eyes, which flared momentarily to what they once were.
Fenton also saw that fire. “It’s me, Godfrey,” he said. “It’s Fenton. Do you remember?”
The creature looked at him in confusion.
The Shadow Man appeared at the crook of Godfrey’s neck, calm manner having left him, clutching his shoulder. Eyes wide, he screamed at the avatar. “Destroy him!” it bellowed.
“Don’t listen to him, Godfrey! Remember, you are a knight Templar.”
“You are not a knight, you are nothing! You’re not even real! You are a construct, used by that man,” The Shadow Man thrust a finger at the pale, naked Ward. “With him, you’re nothing. I set you free, I am your master now!”
“Remember, Godfret. We are one, my friend.”
Godfrey’s empty sockets gazed upon his maker and the fires within slowly rose.
“No!” The Shadow Man lifted his hand and the air about it flowed in from all directions, joining to it and shaping a massive claw. He pulled back and thrust into the side of Godfery’s head.
Huge jaw falling open in pain, Godfrey bellowed.
Fenton clutched his head, howling.