by Earl, Collin
Casey touched his arm, “So…about that whole re-grouping thing….”
Monson shook him off, feeling the strength return to his arms and legs. “I told you—I’m not running away. I have things to do.”
“Umm…I’m not telling you to run away, Grey!” Casey looked from side to side to see if any of the rock soldiers or commandos were readying an attack. “Really, it’s not running; it’s just a strategic retreat. Come on, even the bravest dudes on the planet retreat every once in a while.”
Monson put up a hand in protest. “The Spartans from 300 didn’t. Spartans don’t surrender; Spartans don’t retreat, or did you forget that little piece of history?”
Artorius cut in. “Yeah, and look how well that worked out for the Spartans. I’m pretty sure the Persian Immortals were laughing and quoting the Spartans before they filled them with arrows.”
“Yeah, but I doubt they were laughing when the other ten thousand Spartans supported by thirty thousand Greeks came a-knocking.”
“Are you saying that we should let the Midday Darkness fill us up with arrows in the hopes that forty thousand Coren University students will attack it?” asked Artorius.
Casey jumped at the opening. “Now that is just silly, Arthur. Just look at the Darkness.”
He pointed upwards. “Do you see any bows and arrows?”
Artorius threw up his hands. “Being friends with you two is bad for my blood pressure.”
A loud crash followed by screams refocused the boys’ attention on the Darkness or, more specifically, the large black chunks falling from the sky. Two or three had already hit the ground.
“Move out of the way!” yelled Monson, who was back on his feet. “Get back! Get away from the—”
Monson stopped yelling once he realized it was too late. Pieces of Darkness toppled marble pillars and crushed sections of cherry wood floor, splitting the rock and wood with surprising devastation. More screaming ensued as black tarry-covered pods rained down on the inhabitants creating pits where they landed. Monson froze in place, not knowing what to do; Casey and Artorius were at his side in an instant.
“Grey, we should bolt.” Artorius tugged at his elbow. “Like now...before…before….”
Casey gulped, finishing Artorius’ sentence. “Before something bad happens.”
Tangible fear touched them, touched all of them, as the Darkness, the chunks of living, changing blackness started to move. From within their craters, the tar pods split down the middle, resembling blooming flowers—ugly, horrible flowers. Large, muscled bodies emerged first as massive, black tar-covered wings folded back on themselves, giving a clear view of thick, hairy arms and the faces of beasts…of monsters. The heads appeared truly demonic, with large dark fangs, giant beetle-like eyes, and long, pointed ears.
“Gargoyles,” passed through Monson’s trembling lips. He realized the truth and depth of the word; these were huge, horror-inducing gargoyles.
The one nearest Monson flexed a clawed hand. Oddly, the thing looked confused, like it had been a long time since it had had the chance to feel its own extremities. This action, while seemingly passive and unthreatening, caused two commandos close to the beast to freak out. They both fired their weapons, sending several large fireballs hurtling through the air. The fireballs hit their mark, instantly spreading over the body of the beast, which howled in pain. But then the large, black, oozing wings started beating, kicking up a wind, and the flames covering the beast died, the scorch marks fading into the dark body. Two large eyes, seemingly vacant moments ago, now stared down at the two soldiers, who began to scream as the beast motioned towards them with large claws, which swept parallel to the ground and careened straight for the commandos. Monson closed his eyes as their screams turned to silence.
“They didn’t stand a chance,” Monson whispered, still unable to look.
Casey’s tone matched his own. “Do any of us?”
A roar from the gargoylesque beast commanded their attention as it stepped out of its crater. All around the Coliseum the others of its kind followed suit, roaring spitefully—a sound that curdled the blood and infused raw fear. As the final traces of the outcry dissipated, other sounds followed, these different from the catcalls of the black-bodied beasts. The response drummed with a steady bass, rumbling deep within the bones. Monson could not help but notice, as the booming bass stopped, that the beasts heard and heeded the message.
The nodding heads of the beasts dipped down one last time before they all turned—each and every one of the dozen or so creatures—to look directly at Monson Grey.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Monson let his jaw drop. “They couldn’t be…they just couldn’t be here for me?”
More roars echoed as the black, winged beasts all rushed towards him. Monson took an unsure step back, Casey and Artorius in tow. Casey nudged him.
“Grey, in those delightful little memories of yours, you would not happen to have a suitable spell, would you?”
“To fend off twelve black, winged, clawed monsters made out of living darkness?” Monson attempted a grin. “Can’t say that I do.”
Artorius raised his glove. “Then what good are you, Grey?”
Heavy pounding threw all three boys off balance for a second time. The gargoyle closest to them was walking with difficulty towards their group, taking large swipes at both the members of H.U.M.A.N.E. and the commandos as it moved. The other creatures followed, zeroing in on Monson.
They are after me! thought Monson. There’s no other explanation for it. Ugh, being the Hero sucks. When am I going to catch a break? Wasn’t there supposed to be an escape plan? Come on Brian, Mr. Gatt? Where are you on this one?
He shook his head.
OK. OK. Enough with the pity party! Think. Focus. If these things are after me, then maybe if I... then they would…all right–that’s what we do.
Monson, in a rash decision, turned and ran. Just as he predicted, the monster roared in anger. As he reached a full sprint, he was surprised to see Artorius and Casey right next to him.
“Please…tell me…you have…a plan,” panted Artorius, his huge legs eating up the distance to the first set of double doors.
“Hey, I’m making this up as I go.” Monson reached the doors first, slamming into them and forcing them open. Each of them careened through the doors, continuing their dash down the hallway.
Casey yelled from somewhere behind him. “Grey, where are we going?”
“I already said it. I’m making this up as I go along.” Monson gestured over his shoulder, pointing back the way they came. “If the legends are correct, then those things are about to clean house on anything human, meaning every person here has a one-way ticket to Deadville.”
Casey almost tripped as they rounded a corner. “And what does that have to do with us running through the halls like illegal immigrants trying to avoid Border Patrol? If those things are going to turn everyone into a second Dinner of Delectable Divine Deliciousness—”
“I knew you loved the name.”
“OK, so it’s growing on me. Shut up, Arthur! If those things are going to eat everyone, shouldn’t we be back there taking a stand?”
The three boys took another turn, hitting the main hall, just a few seconds away from the front exit.
“I don’t know how effective a ‘stand’ would be against those things,” said Monson, breathing heavily. “I think there’s a better way.”
“What’s that?” called Artorius and Casey together.
“Live bait.”
The boys reached the outer doors and went right through them, coming to an abrupt stop at what they saw. It was evident that Monson’s assumption was correct – the beasts were reacting to him.
“Grey…,” came Casey’s voice with a mix of horror and amazement. “You know I find being your friend a fairly dangerous endeavor.”
Hundreds of smaller gargoyle creatures were scattered around the campus of Coren University, destroying everything in sigh
t. Directly in front of them, a group of commandos, H.U.M.A.N.E., and even a few Coren University students was already fighting desperately with the creatures.
Monson and the others jumped right in, fighting with as much ferocity as they could. To avoid hitting any of the others, Casey and Artorius opted for the swords on their backs while Monson again cast his “Daggers of Light” spell.
Artorius was the first to make contact, swinging his claymore with rock-breaking force and cutting one of the gargoyles from shoulder to hip. He made to move on, but received a shock when the gargoyle, dripping in black ooze, roared and countered, striking with unbelievable speed and nearly taking off Artorius’ head with a sweep of its claws. Casey stepped in, jumping up like a kangaroo and landing a devastating spinning back kick to the beast’s jaw. The thing staggered and stumbled but regained its balance with the help of its oozing, black wings. But the beast recovered a little too late; Monson was already upon it.
With trepidation but little hesitation as a theory popped in his head, Monson thrust the lightning-like dagger right into the face of the beast. The beast’s body froze and seized before starting to convulse. Monson let go of the weapon and the three boys watched as it sunk into the black tar spilling out from the wound.
“Grey, move!” Monson felt a large arm pull him back by the waist. Artorius was wheezing slightly but sounded very calm. “What in the—”
The beast was melting before their very eyes. The black ooze was puddling on the ground and emitting an outrageous stench. Monson arrived at his conclusion and yelled to the small group in front of them.
“Their weakness is the head! Aim for the head!”
Miraculously, they heard him and did just as he said. Some used guns or swords, others combat gloves; the result, however, was the same. The spells, gunshots, and sword strikes found their marks and the beasts melted into black tar like substance.
Artorius stepped towards the relieved mix of students and invaders, speaking specifically to the commandos. “Is this going to be a problem?”
He gestured towards H.U.M.A.N.E. and the students. “Or do we need to pick up the fight where we left it?”
One of the lead commandos removed his mask. “Nah, I don’t think we gonna have a problem.”
Casey grinned. “Jim!”
The one-time member of the Men in Black looked at Casey, his expression more than a little concerned. Casey walked right up to him and shook his hand jovially. “I’m so glad your brain didn’t melt. That sometimes happens, you know.”
Jim continued to look confused as Casey’s grin grew to epic proportions. “Kid how do you know my name—”
Artorius slapped Casey upside the head. “Idiot, we don’t have time for that.”
Casey glared at him, about to answer, when Monson intervened and addressed Jim directly. “Do you know somewhere you can hide?”
Jim nodded his head.
“Do you know who I am?”
He nodded his head for a second time.
Monson smiled. “Good, then I want you and these people to find somewhere to hide until these things are gone. You are responsible for them. If I find out that anything bad happened, I’m coming to find you. Do you understand me?”
A third nod.
“Then go and don’t look back.”
With Jim in the lead, the group ran for cover.
Monson looked out over the expanse that was Coren’s campus. The gargoyles were all over the place and more were dropping from the sky with each passing moment. Scattered among them were pockets of people fighting to repel the black creatures, all while explosions sounded from every corner as the Midday Darkness did its deadly work. The campus was being overrun by these things. They had to do something, but what?
“What’s cooking in that brain of yours, Grey?” Artorius wiped his huge claymore on the ground to clean off the black ooze.
“I’m working on a theory,” Monson answered reluctantly.
Casey sounded exasperated. “I so could not be a scientist. So are we going to see the fruits of your mental labor before the Midday Darkness turns us and the whole of this valley into a History Channel special?”
“Wow—that was a mouthful.” Monson cocked his eyebrow.
“Hey, I seriously put a lot of thought into my comments.”
Monson rolled his eyes in response. “I think I have a plan, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”
“Try us,” spouted Artorius and Casey at the same time.
“Follow me, but stay back.”
Monson charged directly towards the middle of campus.
Much sooner than he would have liked, the gargoyles noticed the three boys running at top speed out into the open. With the gargoyles right on their tail, Monson, Casey and Artorius jumped one of the low stone fences, touched grass, and then hurried forward, dodging in and out of flower beds and bushes.
Artorius yelled from somewhere behind him, “Grey! If you’re going to execute this brilliant plan of yours, now might be a good time!”
Monson was not listening, instead breathing deeply as he searched for the power of his Kei. He felt it simmering on his skin. Such an odd feeling—and yet the power was real, almost physical; so much like any other body part or sense that he wondered how he had existed without it. But the amount of power, the current level of release was not enough for his plan to work after so much fighting and the Midday Darkness taking its fill. Monson probed his consciousness for a path that would connect the real world to his inner one, all while the winged devils closed in around them, readying their attack.
Monson briefly closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, saw everything around him with a broken vision, like he was peering through cracked glass. He saw the deadly creatures of legend that had come to destroy everything in their path but at the same time, could clearly envision his own travels through a dark and confined space, a space that was becoming ever more familiar.
Casey attacked from his left, Artorius from the right, both growling like cornered beasts. Monson fought even as he was touching down in his own inner world. His mountain, his river, his path all spoke to him—coaxing him, pushing and encouraging him. He bounded forward at their call, stepping onto the river as if it was the most solid of earth and setting off on his path.
He knew what to do; he had always known what to do. He called for the path and its power; he called for it and was all too ready for the answer.
The answer came in a tempestuous torrent. Wind blew, water surged, earth shook, lighting struck, and fire crackled across the sky. All sensation, all power focused in upon Monson, a power that he greedily took in.
Monson punched a gargoyle in the head. He watched the creature slam back with heavy force and yelled to his two friends.
“Casey, Artorius, duck!”
The two hit the ground instantly and without a second thought, Monson let go of his power. Silver light burst into the foreground, dispelling the ever-enclosing darkness. Gargoyles, trees and stones scattered to the wind. Just like the unseen force inside the Coliseum, pressure pushed down upon everyone around him, the spiritual force driving many to the ground. Just when they all thought that this was to be the end, the light cleared and the pressure relented.
Monson looked out across the grounds, speaking to Artorius and Casey while he scanned the horizon.
“You guys OK?”
His friends got to their feet and dusted themselves off, also surveying the area. Casey went for his short sword, which was sitting a few feet away, and Artorius checked the blade of his claymore while keeping an eye on the gargoyles, which were slowly moving back in.
Casey returned to the side of Monson and Artorius, short sword in hand. Monson cut him off before he could ask his question.
“I was testing a theory on the Midday Darkness, one that might help at least some people survive.”
The gargoyles were getting closer.
Artorius and Casey posed aggressively with their blades, the latter speaking
over his shoulder.
“And how is that little experiment coming?”
Monson was not sure how to answer his question; the truth was that even after he had released his power, nothing had changed. Maybe he was wrong and the—
A crackling boom high in the sky echoed downward, causing the three boys to grab their ears. The gargoyles looked skyward as if for some sort of sign or heavenly visitation. Another boom resounded, louder and more menacing. The monsters reacted to the noise, though the growling, barking and howling was far from anything interpretable. It did, however, make one thing clear and thus confirmed Monson’s suspicions: The booming echo was directing the creatures. Which became even more apparent when, in a single motion, the heads of every gargoyle turned and looked right at Monson, Casey and Artorius.
“Grey…,” Artorius said with concern. “What did you do?”
Monson smiled ironically. “I gave the predators something to prey on.”
Artorius glared indignantly at the encroaching creatures. “You gave them something to prey on?”
His eyes went wide with comprehension. “You mean that light show just a second ago…?”
Monson nodded. “Yep. I think these things react to strong magical power. If someone releases a lot of Kei then the Midday Darkness will attack them.”
Casey and Artorius retreated towards Monson.
“So these things are all going after you because of all that silver stuff you just released?” asked Casey, adjusting his sword from hand to hand.
“Yeah, that about sums it up,” answered Monson, already in the beginning stages of one of his combat spells. “Those things are probably coming after me, which I’m hoping will give the others some time to find cover.”
Artorius held his claymore pointed down, his muscles starting to tense. “So our job is to take these guys on?”