Dust to Dust

by Heather Graham

  They could hear the sound of chaos in the city around them, but they would have to count on the Alliance and the police to take care of that. The creature in the catacombs had to be bested or not only the city but the world would be lost.

  “Are you all right?” Scott asked Melanie.

  She smiled as confidently as she could and glanced over at Rainier.

  “Let’s do it,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Scott said hoarsely. “Looks like this is it.”

  There was only a small opening for them to actually slip through—apparently one reason so many of the skeletons had been broken was from their efforts in escaping—and that was barely visible. They dug away at the rocks and dirt and brush that blocked the opening. When they had enough cleared away, Rainier shined a flashlight into the crevice. Old stone steps, built right into the earth, were visible in the flashlight’s glow.

  The darkness—and Bael—waited beyond.

  With Rainier’s light leading the way, Scott made it down to the bottom step.

  It was like stepping into a nightmare.

  The catacombs here were truly ancient, and they held a scent of brimstone as well as mold and decay. The earth beneath his feet was hard packed, the walls stacked with narrow, tightly packed shelves holding the dead, and he was dismayed at the number remaining. He’d hoped they had already fought off most of this army. He looked warily, right and left, as he passed along the corridor. Melanie was directly behind him, with Rainier bringing up the rear.

  They all stopped at the same time.

  The head of a skeleton to Scott’s left suddenly began to turn of its own accord, as if driven by the ghosts of muscles and tendons long gone. Scott was tense, waiting, and he knew that behind him, Melanie and Rainier waited, too, wondering if the thing would knit itself back together and come after them.

  A terrible, rasping whisper began to hiss through the broken and toothless jaws. It became a laugh, a low, evil chuckle. Then it uttered dry words. “Bael is calling you,” it said. “Now, begins the end of days.”

  Broken bits of finger bone began to form together, and the skeletal hand was suddenly whole and pointing toward the darkness beyond. “Go,” the voice commanded with military authority. Then the terrible laughing began again.

  Enough.

  Scott swung his bare fist into the bony head, splintering it into a hundred pieces.

  Wind, coming from nowhere, suddenly began to rush around them. The skeleton whose skull Scott had just crashed clattered, but couldn’t seem to pull what was left of itself together.

  But the other skeletons didn’t seem to be having the same problem. As if a switch had been turned on, they began to rebuild themselves in monstrous numbers.

  And the wind that seemed to be giving them life was not coming from the hole in the earth that had allowed them entry.

  It was coming from the darkness ahead.

  Melanie stared at Scott, shouting above the clicking and clacking of the bones. “Go on! Stop Bael! We’ll follow.”

  Scott didn’t want to leave her alone with Rainier to face the growing skeletal army, but she was right. Someone had to go after Bael now.

  And then there was a voice in his head. Lucien’s voice, this time.

  There are three of you: Capricorn, Taurus and Virgo. Virgo will be reason. Taurus will hold the line. Capricorn must go on ahead alone.

  The skeletons were rising en masse. Scott demolished those he could on the way to find Bael, anxious to rid his companions of as many as possible while he made his way to the source of the evil power.

  Ahead was only darkness that swallowed all light.

  He had no choice but to move forward. The dead were awakening everywhere, but as Scott made his way deeper under the earth, it seemed that their purpose was changing. Heads lifted, arms pointed, and there was the eerie sound of malicious laughter. The clattering of bony jaws as they tried to work grew louder, as well, but the sound no longer seemed to be coming from the skeletons he passed, it was issuing from the far depths of the tunnel.

  I am waiting, foolish man. I am waiting, and I am ready to end this interference now. Come now and it will be you and me alone, and you will finally see the face of Bael.

  Through the darkness ahead, he saw light at last. It wasn’t the natural light of the full moon outside, nor was it the artificial light of a flashlight. It was a flickering red glow.

  The smell of brimstone on the air was so thick he could barely breathe.

  He stopped, pausing to get his bearings as he realized that he was approaching a central room, just like the one in his dream. The tunnel widened slightly where he stood, and the unearthly glow that had guided him was located just ahead.

  He moved forward slowly. There were burning sconces all around the room, and what looked like a massive sarcophagus in the center.

  The tomb was cracked and ajar. There was ancient lettering etched into the top of it. And standing there, shrouded in a black hood and cloak, was a presence.

  The laughter began again.

  And then the thing’s voice reached him loud and clear.

  “Time to play this farce out to the end, foolish man. In your dreams, you saw the nun. I am certainly no nun, my friend. So…let’s finish the game. All that has happened thus far has been a game, don’t you know? It’s been fun to jerk the strings of the puppets, fun to watch men rip and tear into one another, and bleed and die. And the vampires and other creatures of the night? They are damned already, of course, but I enjoyed it as they followed me, worshipping me, believing I would give them eternal pleasure. As if I could be bothered. I eat flesh for breakfast, my friend, and finish out the day with souls for a nightcap.”

  The scent in the air, the sound of the demon’s voice, the weird red light and the scent of brimstone mixed with death, all worked on Scott’s fear, on his natural instinct to survive.

  But Scott stood his ground.

  “Fuck you,” he said, praying that there was no tremor in his voice. “A game? Then it might interest you to know we’re two steps ahead. All across the world, the forces of light have prevented the mayhem you thought you would cause. This is a game, all right, and you’re nothing but a two-year-old crying on the playground.”

  The roar that rose from the creature’s mouth was like the rush of a blast furnace, hot air searing Scott and filling his nostrils with the scent of foul black earth. Scott fought to remain standing against the onslaught.

  Then the earth began to tremble.

  Suddenly the thing by the altar started to grow, it’s evil laughter deepening as it grew in size. It rose higher and higher, and grew tentacles as it stretched, powerful cords of muscle and sinew and death that began winding around him, choking him, stealing his breath.

  “Silly man, you will die so easily,” it said.

  “Rainier!”

  Melanie cried out. A skeleton was poised at his back, holding the skull of another in its hands, ready to smash it down on his head. Behind it, an army massed in numbers too great to count.

  Rainier spun around. He pulled out his vial of pure blood, and tossed it at the skeleton and the hordes standing behind it. The thing paused, and suddenly the skeletons were attacking each other, bones fighting the bones.

  “The blood!” Rainier cried. “The blood has turned the tide. Any skeleton touched by it is fighting for us now. We can finish off the rest and get to Scott. Where’s your vial? You need to use it.”

  “I can’t. We might need it when we get to Scott,” Melanie said.

  He stared at her and nodded. His flashlight had fallen in the battle, and he quickly retrieved it. He played the beam down the length of the tunnel, and they started forward.

  The earth suddenly exploded before them, sending bits of rock, mud and bone showering down on them.

  The demon’s tentacles were around him now, choking him slowly. Very slowly.

  “I can’t have you die too quickly. Mortals are so fragile, but I like to take my time. I will make t
alons for myself, rip your flesh inch by inch, watch you bleed until you are nearly dead, and then see the light go out of your eyes as you suffocate. That you thought that you could go against me…”

  The demon’s tentacles began to grow and change; they became like the talons of a huge bird, stubby and gnarled, razor sharp at the tips. And there were so many of them. So many. Scott couldn’t breathe. He’d been so foolish. He thought, his pride in his own strength too great….

  But he’d never fully tested himself. He concentrated on building strength within his mind. He flexed his shoulders and caught hold of the closest talon, the one threatening his eyes. He twisted it with all his strength. He forced himself to think of the kindness and the knowledge of Sister Maria Elizabeta, and he thought that he heard her voice in his head.

  You are Capricorn. The strength of the earth. A man, but also the earth, itself. You have the power. You have the strength.

  The demon howled as Scott snapped the talon in two, to hang uselessly in the air. He ripped at another and another, tearing at the rubbery arms with the razors at the end. The more he fought, the more adrenaline seemed to rush through him, and the greater his fury grew. The thing began to loosen its hold on him bit by bit. It was losing strength.

  The earth trembled again, accompanied by a deafening roar, and then Scott fell; he was free. But he knew from the scent of brimstone and death that he hadn’t beaten his enemy, only staved him off temporarily. The darkness deepened, and from somewhere within it he heard a sudden scream.

  Melanie.

  “Melanie! Where are you?” he cried.

  A sobbing sound followed. He inched his way through the dark, trying to discover the source of the sound. Where was she?

  He touched something that seemed like flesh and blood, but his eyes were tearing from the sulfur in the air, and in the darkness he could barely see. “Melanie?”

  She reached out. He felt her hand; he saw her eyes, filled with horror and pain. “He has me, Scott, he has me. He says that I belong in hell, and that I have to burn there forever, left to feel my flesh scorching and charring, smell the odor of it, forever and ever. Hold me, Scott. Stop him.”

  “I have you, Melanie. I have you.”

  “Oh, God, Scott, he has to have one of us. Save me, for the love of God, save me. Give yourself to him so I can save my immortal soul.”

  Scott paused, still holding her hand, but an alarm began ringing deep in his brain.

  This wasn’t Melanie. He was suddenly sure of it. Bael had tried to use Scott’s emotions against him before. But he knew Melanie. She would never ask another to sacrifice themselves in her place. He didn’t let go, only eased back on his hold.

  “This is the worst charade I’ve ever seen,” he told the demon. “You’re nothing like Melanie, nothing at all.”

  Again that roar that shook the earth.

  And the face he was staring at began to change.

  It was Melanie, but a Melanie grown so old that her skin began to crack, turn a nauseating yellow-brown and drip down her face like melted candle wax. Finally her beautiful face was nothing but bone, a paper-white skull staring at him from empty eye sockets, roaches spewing from the mouth, while snakes began to slither from the nostrils and eye sockets.

  Scott pulled back in horror, so stunned that he released the creature.

  The roar of fury became peals of laughter. And then the face changed again.

  At last he was seeing the true face of the demon.

  The eyes were becoming red glowing pits, and scaly flesh began to cover the naked bone. Bael bore a passing resemblance to a man, but a man with stubby horns growing from his forehead, a pointed chin, giant black wings and skin that was far more like that of a reptile than a human being. Again he began to grow, until he barely fit into the confines of the tunnel. His arms were long, and talons grew at the ends of his gnarled fingers. A tail grew from the base of his spine, a sharp barb growing at the end.

  He heard Lucien’s voice in his head again.

  Beware of the shapeshifter’s tricks. Run when you must, fight when you can.

  Bael reached out, seeking Scott’s throat.

  Scott dived low and raced back to the room with the sarcophagus. When he rose, he saw that the demon wasn’t even looking at him.

  It was staring down the tunnel from which he had come. Scott could just make out Rainier rushing forward, a pointed cross ready in his hand. He didn’t stop; he plowed into the demon, piercing it in the gut.

  Bael let out a roar of pain and fury, then set his crocodilian hands on the cross and ripped it from his flesh, sending Rainier crashing against the wall of the room with one casual swipe.

  “No!” Melanie cried, rushing in, a stake of her own in hand.

  This time the creature was ready; he caught the stake and hurled it powerfully across the room, knocking Melanie against the sarcophagus.

  Scott let out a cry of fury, leaping up and throwing himself onto the creature’s back.

  It burned, and he could hardly keep his position.

  Rainier, though dazed, was up again. He found his broken cross and ran for the demon again.

  “The eyes!” Scott shouted. “Go for his eyes.”

  With Scott struggling to hold the mammoth scaly head still, Rainier struck home. The bellow that escaped from Bael then was horrible, shaking the entire catacomb, bringing chunks of earth and stone raining down on them.

  The creature whirled and bucked, using its tail to send Rainier flying with bone-cracking violence against the wall again, and this time he didn’t get up.

  Scott found himself sliding down the length of the scaly back, felt the creature trying to impale him with the spike on its tail.

  Melanie was still down, trying to rise, trying to clear her head.

  “Melanie, the tail! Help!” Scott called.

  But Bael could still hear them clearly, even though a viscous fluid was oozing down his face from his destroyed eye.

  Suddenly the demon was changing again, growing smaller and tucking his tail beneath him, forcing Scott to slip to the ground.

  “No!” Scott roared himself.

  Smaller, smaller…

  He got his hands around the creature’s throat and began to squeeze.

  It began to grow again, the neck bulging until Scott’s hands could no longer surround it and he was forced to climb onto its back again, his arms encircling that muscle-bound neck.

  Melanie was ready, circling the demon to reach its slashing tail. She finally found her aim and caught the tail with the pointy end of her cross, pinning it to the ground.

  The demon began to thrash and roar, and Scott had to keep fighting to maintain his hold.

  Rainier was up again at last, searching his pockets desperately. He found a vial of holy water and started sprinkling it over Bael, whose movements became more frenzied, making Scott’s position ever more precarious.

  This time Bael put on a human face. Scott’s face.

  “Melanie, you bitch,” Bael seethed. “Look what you’ve done. You’ve twisted everything good in me because you want to hurt me, you want me to be a monster just like you are.”

  Melanie was stunned for a moment, staring, just long enough for the monster to snake out one taloned arm and bring her down.

  “No!” Scott raged, his stranglehold tightening in fury.

  “Melanie—the blood. Do you still have it?” Scott demanded. His hold was weakening. There was nothing left to do but pray.

  She had the blood.

  She came to life in a flash, drawing the vial from her pocket, daring to stand mere inches from the demon, which was still moving beneath Scott like an enraged bull. She uncorked the vial and she splashed the blood dead center into Bael’s face, catching him first in his remaining eye.

  The demon screamed and strained, growing to impossible size, and sent a whirlwind of earth, dust and bone swirling around them. Scott was blinded, but still he held on.

  Then…

  Still
roaring, Bael began to shrink again. Scott’s hold tightened. And tightened. He twisted with all his might, and to his amazement, he heard a snap, and the head lolled bonelessly to the side.

  The earth shuddered again and the demon fell, with Scott on top of it, and then a wall collapsed right on top of them.

  “Scott!” Melanie’s voice was frantic.

  He reached out blindly in the rubble and found her fingers.

  In seconds they were clasping hands.

  A moment later Rainier was on his feet and helping them free of the pile of rock.

  They looked down at the demon Bael. He was only the size of a man now, and he was hideous: his skin was pocked and diseased, his limbs a mix of a goat’s and a bird’s. The horns still protruded from his head, and the end of his tail oozed some kind of loathsome fluid.

  But he was down, and the earth was still.

  Rainier hunkered down, then drew out a knife and sliced through the creature’s neck. He decapitated the great demon Bael, who, in the end, had proven that his true self was small.

  “We need to burn the body,” Melanie said.

  Scott didn’t question her. He and Rainier started to gather what flammable material they could find and built a pyre.

  They set Bael’s body on it and lit the fire, and the corpse cracked and smoked as it began to burn. They watched it, making certain that both the body and the head caught fire.

  “So small…” Scott said.

  Rainier looked at him. “That’s the thing…it’s the least of men, and the demons within them, that can cause the greatest tragedy.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Melanie pleaded. “The fire is growing…the heat…Oh, Scott, your hands!”

  He looked down at them. They were red and blistered and cracking. And all three of them were absolutely filthy, as if they had been working in a coal mine.

  He laughed suddenly. He didn’t feel the pain in his hands. He cupped her face with them and kissed her lips.

  “Men may be monsters, and monsters may be angels,” he said. “Yes, it’s time to leave the dead behind and revel in everything that’s beautiful here on earth—here in heaven on earth.”

  Rainier rolled his eyes but clapped him on the back. “Yeah, let’s get out of here, so I can get away from the two of you before this mushy stuff kills me.”