by Leo Romero
Faisal’s eyes widened. He spun his head left and right, looking for a place to hide. In the corner of the corridor stood a Babylonian statue depicting a lion with a man’s head. Faisal went on nimble feet and ducked behind the abomination, making himself as thin as possible. From the edge of the statue, he watched on, the footfalls growing louder in his ears as the seconds passed.
A day guard, no doubt awaiting his vampire poison, appeared around the opposite corner from where Faisal was hiding. He marched along the corridor toward Faisal’s position. He was dressed in the customary attire for Claw Order; black robes, a bright red headdress denoting the blood his master Rah thrived on. On his side was a scimitar, gleaming in the daylight shining through the windows. His face was emotionless, his eyes glazed; the look of a victim. Faisal knew it all too well.
The day guard made his way along the corridor toward the statue Faisal was hiding behind. Faisal held his breath, making himself as still as the statue obscuring him. The guard’s footsteps grew louder. Faisal closed his eyes, his face pinched.
Just go, he urged the guard. Just go about your business and leave me in peace.
The guard drew closer and Faisal’s instincts began to scream at him to attack. His inexperience was getting the better of him. His heart began to beat hard, sweat was starting to pour down his forehead. Something inside him was screaming to rush in before the guard caught him. But, he resisted the urge. Clement always said to keep calm, to be like a shadow, never act in a rash manner.
Faisal remained where he was, his lips trembling, his eyes closed tight. The guard reached the statue, then rounded the corner. He then entered a stairwell and his footfalls petered out into the distance.
Faisal’s chest released. He took quick, hot breaths. The urge had been strong, but he remained calm. But, he knew he couldn’t remain in the palace for too long. Eventually, the guards would catch him and behead him. He re-emerged from behind the grotesque statue and decided to go in the direction from where the guard came. He rounded the corner, utilizing every inch of shadow in the corridor to melt into. He was bent down low, treading carefully, watching everything: the paintings, the statues, the ornate pottery. This was once a place for kings, now it was the dwelling of a monster. He scampered past giant mirrors, portraits of long dead kings and queens, until he reached a stairwell. He gazed up them. As he did, a slight tingle crawled up and down his spine. Faisal closed his eyes. It was his third eye activated. He opened his eyes again and looked up the stairs ahead of him. He nodded. Up there was where the beast lay where it could gaze down on everything.
Faisal set off up the steps, all the while that tingling growing stronger. He hugged the wall as he went, his eyes fixed on the summit of the stairs, his jaw hanging open. His mouth was dry and sweat was perforated all over his body, but he had to ignore such discomforts; he had to complete his task, and failure wasn’t an option.
On the tips of his sandals, he made it near the summit where he paused and listened with intent. In the near distance, there was a cough. Faisal pinpointed its location; about halfway along the corridor he was about to enter. Another day guard was there, waiting.
Faisal peeked around the corner. His eyes widened. The corridor was populated with cats. They sat on sideboards, curled in balls on the floor. Some sat on their haunches, watching him with their piercing green eyes. Faisal eyed them with suspicion. Cats had a unity with the Claw Order to the point where followers praised them. They seemed to populate around vampires, almost like a dog always wanting to be near its master. Faisal knew Rah was nearby, the cats were the final indicator.
His eyes then fell on the day guard standing to attention outside a set of double doors. Faisal nodded to himself. Rah was behind those doors, he knew it. He had to get that guard to move from his position. He needed a diversion. He rubbed his sweaty hands and placed them around his mouth. From the depths of his chest, he made a sound; the call of a golden jackal, something he’d practiced since childhood. He’d also mastered the art of throwing his voice. The sound flew from his chest and sped across the air, landing at a point far down the corridor. The guard’s head instantly spun that way.
Faisal continued with his perfect mimicking cry and the cats began to stir. Their ears pricked, their heads turned left and right. Faisal managed to confuse them as well as the guard. They turned their attention to the far end of the corridor, their eyes bulging in fear. Faisal didn’t let up. He threw the sound of the jackal down the corridor, where the guard poked his head toward, the veins on his neck sticking out like rope. Faisal upped the volume and the guard took the bait. He unsheathed his scimitar and began taking steady, cautious strides toward the end of the corridor, his focus fixed on the ground.
Faisal praised Allah for creating stupid people. With a grin, he entered the corridor still squatting low, the guard’s back facing him, the attention of the cats turned toward the opposite end of the corridor. Faisal scampered along the marble floor on tiptoes and hid behind an ornate pot. He poked his head out of the side and made that sound again, this time throwing it around the corner. The guard’s head flinched toward the adjacent corridor. Faisal made another call and the guard, totally mesmerized by the sound, followed it. He disappeared around the corner, leaving his post unguarded.
Faisal nodded to himself. Good job. Now he could get into that chamber unhindered. But, he had to be quick. He moved out from behind the pot and crept up to the double doors. As he went, the cats turned their attention his way. They hissed at him, their ears pulled back in fear. Faisal kept his gaze fixed on them all; they watched him return, their eyes boring into him. As Faisal ventured deeper into that corridor, the tingling in his spine intensified, creating a buzzing sound in his ears like his head was full of scarab beetles.
He made it to the doors, just as a cat hissed at him. Faisal listened in. It was silent. He checked both ways before reaching out a trembling hand for the door handle. Even though the temperatures in and around the palace were soaring, the handle was ice cold. He applied a small amount of pressure and the handle clicked downward. He winced, pausing a moment in case the sound had been heard. Silence answered him. He pushed and the door came ajar. Thick darkness spilled out into the corridor, the polar opposite of what should have happened. The intense light of the corridor should have violated the darkness, but this darkness was different. It was powerful, enveloping. And with it brought an amplification of his third eye. Faisal closed his eyes for a moment and steadied himself with a small prayer. On opening them, a cat hissed at him.
Faisal ignored it, his attention focused on the door. He steeled himself and pushed it open. Its hinges let out a small sigh as they swung the door away. And then the darkness flooded out. It spilled over Faisal like a black waterfall, its tentacles wrapping around him like spindly fingers, entrapping him, entrancing him, the buzzing and tingling in his third eye ramping up to a crescendo.
He stared into the darkness with frightened eyes, suddenly every bit the eighteen year old he was; an inexperienced youth entering the ancient unknown. He wanted to turn and run, to escape from this palace of darkness and back to the camp set up just outside the excavation site, tell Clement he tried, but couldn’t see it through. It was too much, too soon, the task too big for him. Too gargantuan. This was no place for a boy, it needed a man; a strong, brave man.
The darkness licked at his face and he could hear it mocking him. You don’t have the balls to enter here, boy, it sneered. Go home to your mama.
A sudden rush of anger suffused Faisal; he stood stout and puffed out his chest. “I can’t do that,” he whispered back to the darkness. “My mama is dead.” Yes, he had no mama to run home to because of the beast inside the room he stood before. And that was why he was here. And why he’d destroy the creature no matter what. His lips scrunched up into a tight ball and he took a juddering breath, his emotions now stirred. He dived into that darkness without giving it a second thought. It swallowed him in one suck, and now he was surrounded by evi
l.
He entered the chamber fully, closing the door behind him. Now in the pitch black, the hairs all over his body springing to attention. He shivered. The temperature in the room was ice, like a tomb in the frosty wastelands of the arctic—a place of ice Clement had described to him from one of his many adventures. Faisal stood in the icy darkness, his heart thumping, shivering from the cold as if he had a fever. This was it. No turning back now. He was in the final chamber, and from the intense tingling shooting up and down his spine, he knew he was in the presence of the beast.
He turned and bent down low. He now needed a source of light to guide him through the dark chamber. He pulled the device from the belt around his robes; the one Clement called a ‘flashlight’, a portable device operated by things called batteries. It created light like a small, handheld sun. Some of the exotic and rare equipment Clement had at his disposal was a wonder to behold.
He gripped the handle tight with both hands and with a sure and deliberate swipe of both his thumbs, he flicked the switch. A beam of light shot out of the end of the device, slicing through the thick darkness like a sword. Even though Faisal had seen the device in action on numerous occasions, he still marveled at it. He stared at the beam of light he’d created in awe, his eyes following it to the large circle it painted on the far wall. He moved it across the air and shadows bobbed and danced all around him as if they were alive. He lit up more ornate pots and statues. The windows had been blocked with wood, the sunlight not welcome in this crypt.
Faisal arced the flashlight further across the room. He illuminated a bed to the far left of the chamber. An exotic four poster, designed for a king, its curtains drawn down. Faisal’s heart skipped a beat. He licked his dry lips as he stared at that bed, knowing that was where the beast lay. And knowing that was where he had to go. He set off, the flashlight guiding him. He moved silently across the room in a squatted down scamper, the flashlight trained near the ground.
On reaching the bed, he made his way along the side before standing upright. The curtain now faced him; from behind it came a reek of evil. Waiting beyond was a well of darkness that exuded sin and cruel malevolence. Faisal’s spine now tingled as if electrified, his head buzzing and pounding like a hive of locusts. He was in an unholy place, an ungodly place, where the word of Allah would never be uttered, not a trace of his compassion to be found. Instead, the chamber stank of cruelty and torture.
With a trembling, sweaty hand, Faisal reached out, and grabbed the curtain. He drew in a deep breath, and then slid it across with one swipe, exposing what lay beyond. He rolled his wide eyes down.
Lying asleep on the bed was the beast. Rah. Although it was king-sized, Rah’s bulky frame took up most of the bed, the folds of fat on his belly rippling across the mattress. Strewn on the bed alongside the creature were the remains of a human arm, bone protruding at the elbow, some of the fingers chewed off. Blood was smeared across Rah’s chewed lips. The gluttonous vampire was sleeping off a huge feast.
Faisal gazed down at the monster in revulsion. He made hot, guttural sounds in his sleep; the kind of noise Faisal imagined a pig would make when feeding in its sty. His jaw was slack, exposing twisted fangs like a dog’s incisors, perfect for chewing and tearing flesh from bone. And from the size of the beast, he’d enjoyed more than his share of meat. His long, yellow talons were slightly curled by his side as if ready for battle.
Rah was as ugly as Faisal had always envisaged. Clement had laid eyes on Rah before and told tales of his grotesqueness, but nothing could compare to witnessing the real thing. This was a deformation; an abomination of nature. A thing to be despised and detested. A thing to be vanquished.
Rah lay there motionless as if dead. If only. This thing was very much alive, very much a part of Middle Eastern life. And if it had its way, an oppressive brutal caliphate would rule the world beneath a banner of darkness with its twisted interpretation of the Holy scriptures as its law. An insult to the word of Allah.
Faisal knew he couldn’t procrastinate any longer. This was the only chance he’d have to destroy Rah and he needed to take it. From his robes, he retrieved a metal chisel and small hammer; implements they were supposed to be using on Clement’s supposed expedition. He moved in to assassinate the beast, the handle of the chisel greasy in his grip. He went to place the chisel where Rah’s heart would be, but there was so much fat, he couldn’t be sure. He stared down at the beast in confusion. He knew he only had one chance. If he missed the heart, Rah wouldn’t die.
Faisal huffed. He hovered the chisel over a roll of fat, then moved it away. He scratched his head. Come on, come on, do it! he urged himself. Sweat and panic began to take hold of him. He didn’t have much time. He focused in on the thing’s chest, using the light from the flashlight for guidance. He found a nipple. He nodded; that would be his guide. He aimed for the spot a little above and over toward Rah’s right hand side. The tip of the chisel touched skin; it was tough like the hide of an elephant.
Rah twitched, but didn’t awaken.
Faisal caught his breath. He opened up his mouth and clutched the handle of the flashlight between his lips like a hookah pipe, his head turned down to the chisel in his trembling hand, the light focused on it. He grabbed his hammer and raised it into the air. His eyes focused in on the handle of the chisel, the exact spot he need to strike with the hammer. Rah lay fast asleep, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen.
Faisal sucked in a deep breath and then—
An abrupt wail cut through the air like the cry of a wild animal. Faisal froze, his blood running cold. His head whipped around to where the noise emanated, his eyes bulging from his skull. The flashlight clenched between his lips illuminated small cribs dotted around the other side of the chamber. Inside, were squirming babies. Faisal watched on helplessly as a small mouth opened up to release a cry. The sound was like knives in Faisal’s ears.
He stared at the babies in disbelief. Rah has children, he realized with unabridged horror. And they were stirring. In the next instant, another began wailing, soon joined by its brothers and sisters. Before Faisal could do anything, the room erupted in a hellish chorus of screams and wails that echoed around the room.
Faisal’s heart began hammering. The noise would give him away.
Quick kill Rah before he wakes!
He threw his attention back to Rah, raised his hammer and—
Rah’s eyes snapped open. They focused in on Faisal, a flicker of panic shooting through them. They bored into Faisal’s soul like hot skewers, rooting him. Faisal gasped, his hammer still held in the air. He was trying to bring it down, to drive the chisel through the heart of the beast, but his hand wouldn’t respond to his desire. It shook on the air, but held firm. Faisal applied more pressure to his hand, but it wouldn’t move; it was stuck in the air as if he’d been turned to stone. He was captured by those mystic eyes, those evil, dark, bloodshot eyes.
All the while the babies continued to scream and cry.
“Who are you?” Rah growled.
Faisal couldn’t answer. Instead, he was trying with all his might to bring his hammer down. But, his limbs were like ice; they wouldn’t move. And then, from nowhere, they did. He inexplicably removed the chisel from Rah’s chest. Faisal watched in bemusement as his hand acted of its own accord. Against his will, he turned the chisel on himself. He stared in horror at the point of the chisel now aimed at his own eye. His whole body trembled in terror, the cries and wails of Rah’s children reverberating in his frightened mind. He pushed against Rah’s will with everything he had, but it was useless. Rah had control of him with his hypnosis. Rah was a snake charmer, and Faisal was nothing more than a witless cobra forced to play to his song.
Rah watched on in glee as he held up a hand and threw it in toward Faisal. Like it was attached to strings, Faisal’s arm followed the command. He thrust the chisel into his own eye. There was a hot squelch, followed by white hot pain that juddered through his whole body. A scream bolted from his c
hest, which drowned out the wails of babies. At that moment, Rah released him from his grip. Faisal staggered back, waving his hands on the air like a demented belly dancer, excruciating pain juddering through his mind.
Rah sat up in bed and began clapping his meaty hands in joy, his flabby body rippling. His cackles rocketing around the room alongside babies wailing and Faisal screaming as he comically ran around the chamber in a blind panic, the chisel sticking out of his face. Somewhere in the background, Rah’s sick joyous laughter rang through Faisal’s tender mind; he was laughing at the fool who’d dared enter his domain and attempt to assassinate him.
Faisal almost fell in his haste to escape the chamber. A sticky substance was oozing out of his damaged eye and down his cheek as he spun in perfect circles across the floor, seeking out the double doors from which he entered.
Rah pointed a thick finger at him and released a wild cackle. “Why are you leaving so soon?” he asked. “Come back. I’m hungry, I want to eat you!”
Rah’s jibes were something at the back of Faisal’s hazy world of dark and pain. He managed to stagger over to the doors, his breathing hot and ragged. Get out of here, get out of here, get out of here, his mind shrieked. Get out of here before you die!
He threw out a hand to grab the door handle, that chisel still stuck in his skull. He just needed to get out to safety, back to the others where they could nurse his wounds.
Behind him, Rah continued to cackle, while his babies screamed and howled.
Faisal went to grab the door handle, but caught air.
The doors were already on the move. Someone was coming in.
The doors flew open. And in stepped the day guards.
The Claw Order: Fanghunters Book Four will be out soon!
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