Shadow Plague

by William Massa

  “So let's review this again,” I said, trusting that Octurna was listening. “Do you think Xorron was already working on the monster bug a century ago?”

  “Perhaps. I know Xorron was intent on engineering monsters. Maybe the virus was his original plan all along. Or maybe it was an unhappy accident, a side effect of me interrupting Xorron’s spell and fusing the monster maker with his creation.”

  I mulled this over. I wasn't the most scientifically knowledgeable person on the planet, but it sounded like magic had become encoded in Xorron’s DNA. Somehow, his shapeshifting abilities, the test subject, and his monster-making spell had combined to create a new nightmare. One that could psychically probe its victims and infect them with a magical virus.

  Victims like me.

  Octurna tried to hide the guilt in her voice, but I knew her well enough to pick up on it.

  Had the sorceress’s ill-timed fireball created the monster bug in the first place?

  I pushed the question aside and concentrated on my current task. My gaze pierced the gray landscape and locked on a series of jagged boulders that rose from the top of the hill like giant teeth. The ground was fallow around the strange rock formation, which reminded me of a miniature Stonehenge.

  A century earlier, a castle had stood here, but the Guardians had demolished all traces of the monster maker’s infernal laboratory. They didn't want some poor sap to stumble upon the former palace of horrors. Or go looking for it. Nothing about the landscape suggested that a dark fortress had once towered over this patch of barren land.

  I reached the stone formation and paused. According to the sorceress, a few underground levels of Xorron’s castle remained intact. Fittingly enough, they had become Xorron’s tomb. I was here to see if the fiend was still locked up in his underground prison. It seemed like he had escaped and set up shop at Harem, but we had to know for sure.

  Scanning the area, I detected no visible entrance. I wondered if Octurna expected me to teleport myself into the mountain.

  “That is exactly what I expect you to do,” Octurna said in response.

  I let out a frustrated sigh.“I don’t have the range to project hundreds of feet below ground.”

  “Your recent kills have increased your power level, Slayer. I have faith in you.”.

  “Okay, let’s say I have enough power to pull off this insane stunt. How do I prevent myself from materializing inside solid rock?”

  Teleportation magic required a clear sense of where the spellcaster wanted to show up. After all, I had never been in the castle before. I’d be teleporting blind.

  “Are you certain about that?” Octurna said.

  I thought it over. She was right. Perhaps I hadn’t been in the physical fortress, but I had explored the structure in Octurna’s memory. Would it be enough?

  “Only one way to find out, Jason. Picture the passageway with the holding cells you saw in my mind. The memories we shared will allow you to reach the underground catacombs.”

  I knew Octurna wouldn’t expose me to any unnecessary risks. Either she believed I could do this or she was desperate. The last possibility worried me. I’d seen my fair share of military leaders throw caution to the wind and take significant risks to achieve their strategic objectives.

  I was a soldier, and soldiers were expendable in war.

  Fuck it, I thought. Too much analysis creates paralysis. I would give it a shot and see what happened.

  “Here goes nothing,” I muttered.

  I closed my eyes and shut out my immediate environment. I felt the drops of rain pelting my face, and then that sensation ceased too. In my mind, I saw the deserted corridors of Xorron’s castle, saw myself walking the dimly lit passage below the mountain, shadows reaching out for me. My boots echoed against the damp stone floor. I smelled the rank air redolent with death and ancient secrets and the stench of wild beasts.

  I opened my eyes, and my breath hitched. The cell-lined hallway I’d first glimpsed inside Octurna’s memories extended before me. The spell had fucking worked. I was inside the hidden ruins of the castle!

  I peered into the nearest holding cells. The steel doors stood open and all signs of the nightmarish menagerie had vanished. What had happened to the imprisoned creatures? Had the Guardians liberated them or destroyed Xorron’s failed experiments?

  “I knew you could do it,” Octurna said in my mind.

  “Okay, thanks for the vote of confidence, but now what?”

  “Head to the end of the corridor. We magically sealed Xorron inside his lab. If we are indeed dealing with my old enemy, you will discover signs that he broke out of his prison.”

  As I barreled down the passage, another thought occurred. “You know, I’ve meant to ask you this but why did you guys spare Xorron? Wouldn’t it have been easier to destroy the bastard?”

  There was an undercurrent of anger and frustration in the sorceress’ voice as she answered.

  “I wanted to finish Xorron off when we had a chance. But the Magical Order had other plans. Despite his horrific crimes, the majority of the council voted against a death penalty. They felt imprisonment in his transformed state was a far harsher punishment.”

  Perhaps they had been right. But letting an enemy live opened the possibility that one day they might return to wreak even more havoc.

  Ten minutes later, I reached the heavy metal door of Xorron’s lab. According to the sorceress, the Guardians had warded and magically sealed him inside this chamber. One look at the shattered doorway erased all doubt in my mind.

  “Looks like he found a way out of his cage,” I said.

  “He must have had help,” Octurna replied in a grim voice.

  “Why’s that?”

  “He was at the brink of death when we sealed the door, with no hope of ever regenerating his drained energy. Move closer to the doorway.”

  I did as instructed and let out a low whistle. Some enormous power had torn apart the metal doorway as if it was made of paper. Who or what had shattered this doorway? There was no burn residue, so that ruled out explosives. A different force was at work here.

  “Magic,” I breathed.

  “It is as I feared,” Octurna said.

  “Any theories who would break monster lover out of his jail cell?”

  “There is only one group ruthless enough to exploit Xorron’s mad genius.”

  “Okay, but why would the Shadow Cabal want to populate the world with monsters? Don't they want to keep a low profile?"

  “Good question.” Octurna’s voice grew thoughtful. “It can only mean they are closer to completing their spell than I could have imagined.”

  The spell Octurna was referring to would phase Earth into a dimension of darkness, a universe where science lost its power and magic ruled supreme.

  “They’re building an army, aren’t they?” I said.

  “Yes. A horde of beasts easily controlled by the seven Dark Masters.”

  I closed my eyes to picture this nightmare scenario. Tried to imagine a world of eternal darkness where all the knowledge of the modern age became useless overnight. A world without smartphones and TVs and electricity, a world without the creature comforts of the modern era. A new dark age. But first, more than half of humanity would succumb to this monster virus while the other half would become prey. It would be hell on Earth.

  “We have to stop this.”

  “And we will, Jason. If the Shadow Cabal set Xorron free, then that means he can lead us to our enemy.

  I drew hope from these words. If we defeated the monster maker, he could point us to the seven Dark Masters. We’d have a real chance at striking back against the sick masterminds behind this freak show.

  Dammit. I still knew so little about the Shadow Cabal. Would I be ready for what lay ahead? Were my powers developed enough to face our real enemy?

  I shook off these questions and directed my thoughts toward the more immediate problem.

  “I think it’s time for me to head back to New York C
ity.”

  “I could not agree more, Slayer.”

  My blood boiled at the chance of a rematch with the monstrous creature that had violated me. Xorron was about to experience the wrath of the Night Slayer.

  13

  I clutched the Nighthawk’s handlebars as I rocketed down New York City streets slick with rain. Street lights cast red streaks across the wet asphalt, which made me think of spilled blood.

  Sounds morbid, but my head was in a dark place. Death and doom defined my reality.

  What had Nietzsche said? “Whoever fights monsters should see that in the process he doesn’t become a monster.” I was a monster now, and there might not be a cure for my affliction. Can you blame a guy for being in a bad mood?

  I was so angry, so fucking furious about what had been done to me. Xorron had turned his sick little fetish into a magical plague, destroying who knew how many lives in the process. Including mine. The sigils on my chest lit up as the magic fought back another transformation. This was the third one in the last hour.

  The dragon wanted to be released.

  “Calm yourself, Slayer!” Octurna whispered in my mind. “If you cloud your thoughts with rage, you give your enemy an advantage.”

  Maybe I didn’t want to hear it, but the sorceress made a valid point. I took a few deep breaths to slow down my pulse. Fury bubbled in my chest, but I refused to let the monster win. Already, I could feel my human side reasserting itself. I was trying as hard as I could, but without the sigils, the dragon would have certainly won. It was only a matter of time before the beast would make another attempt. Panic crept up through me in response to the chilling thought, but I pushed it aside, my lips pressed into a taut line.

  Time was running out. Octurna believed if we destroyed Xorron, the effects of the magical infection would reverse themselves. Or perhaps she only told me that so I wouldn’t lose hope and give in to despair. Either way, before I could kill Xorron, I needed to get the freakish bastard to spill the beans on his new masters.

  Up ahead, my destination jumped into view. I had arrived at the right address, but the decaying warehouse with the broken windows and graffiti-scarred exterior bore little resemblance to the glitzy flesh palace of the other night.

  Xorron must be a powerful telepath if he could sway the mind of complete strangers passing by the warehouse. Had he cast a psychic net across the block, hoping to reel in anybody susceptible to his twisted siren call? Taking in the rundown exterior, I wondered why the monster maker’s game of smoke and mirrors wasn’t working on me anymore. Was the beast within me canceling out his psychic influence somehow? Or was Xorron simply no longer interested in me now that I was infected?

  I searched the street for a crowd of eager male victims and found the area deserted.

  My blood went cold. That was a bad sign. The sobering certainty that I wouldn’t find Xorron within the crumpled warehouse hit me. But why had the monster maker abandoned his preferred hunting grounds?

  Xorron had probed my mind to discover a temptation I couldn’t resist. But in searching for memories of Keira, he might have discovered other, more dangerous secrets.

  That I was connected to the Guardian who had defeated him a century earlier, for example.

  Shit.

  How much had the bastard learned while poking around inside my head?

  A new air of menace tinged the air. I had been looking forward to a showdown with Xorron, but now I wondered if I was walking into a trap.

  Octurna appeared to be on the same wavelength. “He is gone. And that means he knows about us.”

  The sorceress’s words raised an even more dire possibility. If Xorron knew about my connection to the Guardian who'd imprisoned him, then so did the Shadow Cabal.

  I cursed out loud. How much could Xorron have picked up while probing my mind for my preferred female fantasy? Did he know about the Sanctuary and the new Midnight War we had declared against the Shadow Cabal?

  “I recommend you return to the fortress, Jason. Cabal agents might be waiting for you within those walls.”

  “Good,” I answered in a clipped voice. “I’m ready for a fight.”

  “You are wrong. Your powers are growing, but this is an enemy greater than the monsters you’ve faced. I advise you to listen to me.”

  “Sorry, but I can’t do that.”

  My lips twisted into a snarl as I jumped off my bike while still in motion. The vehicle came to a screeching halt as I spun through the air. Hard combat boots landed in a puddle with a splash as the Nighthawk stopped itself, trailing green flames. Like myself, my ride had a mind of its own.

  I regarded the building for a beat, my guard up as I listened to the night. Muted traffic noises drifted to my ears—the steady heartbeat of the city. My enhanced hearing detected no sounds from inside the structure, but I drew little comfort from the silence. The Cabal’s agents of chaos were smart enough not to advertise their presence.

  As I advanced toward the warehouse, I was almost surprised when my fractal tattoos failed to react. If black magic were still active in this place, they would have flared and sent waves of pain through my body.

  “That means nothing, Jason. A Cabal assassination team could shield their magic, making it impossible to detect them.”

  “The way I look at it, if a hit squad is waiting for me in that building, they might have the answers we’re looking for. I will not turn my back on our only shot at finding Xorron.”

  My voice shook with growing fury. I suspected my dragon beast was affecting my emotional state. I almost expected the sorceress to point this out, but she wisely held her peace. Maybe she had concluded I was right. Searching the building was our best option.

  My gauntlet sprouted twin blades as I kicked in the door. The rotting wood flew open with a bang. Inside the dilapidated warehouse, the noises of the city grew distant. Rain dripped from the leaking ceiling like a faint echo of the thumping techno music from the club.

  With my enhanced senses mapping the way, I searched the decaying structure. I didn’t have to look for long before I made out a figure slumped on the rain-soaked floor. My muscles tensed as I approached the pile of rags with a human shape. I wasn’t sure if the stranger was dead or alive.

  Then the lump of cloth stirred.

  That settles that, I thought as my hand tightened around the grip of my machine pistol, ready to blow the fucker away at the slightest provocation.

  I caught sight of a lock of long golden hair among the rags, and my chest tightened with horror when I realized I was looking at a woman. She lay still, her head cradled in the ragman’s lap. I knew she wasn’t dead, as my enhanced senses suddenly picked up the steady thrumming of her heart. Steady and strong. She was asleep but in good health.

  The hair on the base of my neck prickled with alarm as the stranger raised his hooded head and turned in my direction and spoke.

  “I’ve been waiting for you. The maker said you would come.”

  “Be careful, Jason,” the sorceress warned me as I inched closer.

  Unlike the last time, there were no wards to interrupt our dialogue while inside the warehouse. Hearing the sorceress' voice gave me strength.

  “Who the hell are you?” I asked.

  The ragman’s feral gaze locked on me. I took in the long, gaunt face, the bloodshot eyes, the scraggly beard flecked with gray.

  “I’m a humble servant, nothing more.”

  The man’s raspy voice showed no emotion as he spoke. The creepiest part of our exchange was that he kept stroking the blonde’s hair.

  “Xorron wanted me to give you a message.” The ragman’s lips twisted into a diabolical grin as his bony hands tightened on the woman’s long locks. She let out a low moan, and my body tensed.

  “The master had so much fun pretending to be your bitch the other night. He decided to pay her a little visit.” I clenched my jaw as the bastard’s grin deepened. “Keira will make a formidable addition to the dark order.”

  The skin on ra
gman’s face and body turned a transparent blue, revealing the ivory skull below. Bones became visible in the see through-skin of his hands, like an X-ray image come to life

  My fractal tattoos finally reacted to the black magic. Ragman was infected with the virus and turning into a monster. And that meant the woman whose face he was now caressing was in terrible danger.

  With a ferocious roar, ragman lunged to his feet and vomited some kind of blue liquid at me. I flicked my wrist, more in control of my powers than ever, and a shield formed around me. The liquid splashed the shield and sizzled.

  As if recalling that there was easier prey nearby, he turned from me and lunged at the woman instead. Before ragman could bury a mouth rimmed with piranha-like teeth into her flesh, I pumped a full magazine of silver into the bastard.

  He bellowed in inhuman agony as the shots sent him backward. Smoke poured from his perforated chest. I stepped closer to help the blonde, and that’s when she sprang to life and lunged at me. Under the beautiful mane of hair, there was only a featureless oval dominated by a giant round mouth lined with shark teeth.

  Fuck, she was infected too!

  As her face morphed into one giant mouth, my hand shot out and closed around the woman’s throat in mid-attack. With horror, I realized my hand was no longer human. Rage surged inside me and destroyed any form of hesitation. I instinctively squeezed until I heard her neck snap. A forked tongue touched my quivering lips.

  The beast in my soul roared.

  Pain tore into my shoulder blades, a clear sign I was about to grow a pair of giant dragon wings.

  I gritted my now pointy teeth with frustration, trying through sheer force of will to halt or reverse the transformation. The only sign of hope was that my thinking remained clear, my thoughts untouched by the savagery of the beast struggling to break free. But that would soon change.

  Help me…

  The protective sigils ignited, and a wave of heat radiated through my shirt. I watched in morbid fascination as the dragon claws turned into human hands, and the agony rippling through my shoulders subsided. Octurna’s magic had defeated the beast.