The Memphis Knights

by Phillip Drayer Duncan

  “You said ‘when’.”

  “Well, I mean, come on... We’re totally going to activate it, right?”

  “We probably shouldn’t. The smart thing would be to report this to my sisters, and you to your Cabal. They could bring in more experienced mages to study it. That’d be the clever thing, right?”

  “It certainly would,” I agreed. “That’d be proper mature of us.”

  “And we wouldn’t have to worry about getting our faces blown off.”

  “Yup, we’d be like real grownups. Doing it the right way.”

  “So, what are we going to do, Blade Mage?”

  “I have this friend,” I said, turning to look at her. “He’s absolutely mad. Same age as us, but you’d think he was still thirteen, the way he acts. In fact, he almost cried when I told him I couldn’t bring him along this time. The guy has no filter whatsoever. If a thought pops in his mind, out his mouth it spews. And if he stumbles onto something that seems interesting to do, he doesn’t think twice. Doesn’t care how dangerous. He just goes for it. A lot of people think he’s nuts, but what I’ve come realize, is that he’s actually one of the wisest people I know. If he were here right now, he’d have already activated it.”

  “I get where you’re going with this, but you know that old saying about if your friend jumps off a bridge?”

  “If Axel jumped off a bridge, somehow it would work out for him. If I jumped off a bridge, he’d dive off after me.”

  “So?”

  “We’re doing this,” I said, raising my staff. “Summon your shield to max just in case and I’ll flip the switch. My Cabal really wants a new Blade Mage, anyway.”

  “This is a really stupid idea,” she said, moving closer to the opposite wall.

  “I can’t help it,” I replied, echoing the words of my father before me. “I’m the Blade Mage. Stupid is my primary responsibility.”

  I reached out and activated the spell.

  Chapter 10

  I opened my eyes.

  Nothing happened.

  Or so I thought.

  I glanced over at Eilidh, who shrugged in reply. She hadn’t noticed a change either.

  Then I turned around.

  On the wall behind me, the same wall where Abner Craon had been murdered, was an image of the man. An image of him pinned against the wall. Only, he wasn’t nailed yet, I realized. He was held up by some unseen force.

  The wall was clear of blood and I didn’t see any sigils. On the left hand of the screen I could see out the window. It was night.

  If I’d had any doubt it was him, one look of his face told me he was Uriah’s father. The resemblance was stunning. The only difference was the gray lines in his hair and the age in his eyes. It was definitely our victim.

  Eilidh glanced my direction then asked, “Is that...?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded.

  She put a hand over her mouth and mumbled, “They left us a still-frame. That’s what they wanted us to find.”

  “Not a still-frame,” I replied, reaching out to the magic in the sigil again. “It’s a recording.”

  “Oh, God.” She took a few more steps back. “I don’t want to see this.”

  “You don’t have to. You can go back outside.”

  “You’re going to watch it?”

  “I think I have to.” I let out a slow breath and continued, “I really don’t want to, but I think I have to.”

  She stared at me for several seconds, as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. I decided to give her the time to figure it out. I was in no hurry.

  Finally, she moved to stand alongside me again. Her jaw was set in a determined line and her eyes carried a wild fierceness. Her decision was made.

  Reaching out to the magic again, it wasn’t hard to find the play button. It was all laid bare to me now. I could fast forward and rewind as well. Like a magical DVR.

  I activated it.

  “You traitor,” Abner screamed at someone off screen. “How could you do this to me? How could you?”

  The look of hurt was evident on his features. He’d been betrayed. Someone he knew was involved. Had they lured him here?

  There was no reply, but I heard the soft patter of footsteps on the carpet. A moment later the door latched shut.

  “May God have mercy on your soul!” Abner screamed at the door. “May you find forgiveness in his eyes, for you will never have it in mine!”

  “Aww,” said an unfamiliar voice. “Such anger, Knight Commander. Fear not, child of God, now that it’s just us, we can get down to the fun.”

  Abner Craon stared at his captors without fear. Only righteous anger. He closed his eyes and began to mumble a prayer.

  Out the window I caught the glimpse of a tail light as a car drove by. I could hear the growling howl of the motor as it passed. Somehow that made what I knew as coming even worse. Ordinary, everyday Normans were driving right outside with no idea what evil was to occur in the house they’d just passed. Some of them may have been his neighbors once. Would anyone have heard his screams? Surely not, or someone would’ve called the police. It was only logical they’d blocked sound from leaving the room, yet they allowed it to come in, perhaps just so the Knight would know there were people just outside.

  A hooded figure in black robes stepped in front of the camera and walked toward Abner.

  Another hooded figure, this one in crimson robes moved to the right of the first. A third appeared in charcoal gray robes and moved to the left.

  Abner opened his eyes and stared at the three figures before him. After a moment, he asked, “Who are you people?”

  “We’re the future.” I believe it was the one in the center who spoke, but I couldn’t be sure. “We’re the darkness yet to come.”

  The leader of the Memphis Knights laughed then, a husky rasping sound. “You have no future. My Knights will hunt you down.”

  “Your Knights are done. Darkness falls, Knight Commander. And so does your little bicycle club. You are just the beginning of the end, my friend. The Omega of the Alpha, if you will.”

  “Kill me, then,” Abner said, his voice strong and proud. “I do not fear death. I know what awaits me in the afterlife. My Savior welcomes me.”

  “He just might, Knight Commander. He just might. Which is why we’re going to take our time in sending you to him. No one is coming to save you, Abner. Know that. This is how you will die. And it will be horrible.”

  “Get on with it then.”

  “That’s the idea,” replied the man. “But not by our hands. No, no, no. That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?”

  He raised his hand and snapped his finger.

  I heard the bedroom door open and then it sounded like something was dragging across the carpet. Footsteps, maybe, but they weren’t quite right. As though the feet couldn’t quite remember how to walk.

  As the newcomer came on screen, it was clear why. It was a corpse. Not a fresh one either. It looked like something that had been dug from the ground after years of decay. If not for the tattered dress it wore, it would’ve impossible to guess whether it was man or woman.

  “What is this?” Abner asked, studying the creature as it shambled toward him.

  The hooded figure threw a robed arm around the shambling corpse. “Come now, Abner. You don’t recognize her?”

  The Knight didn’t reply.

  “You don’t remember the dress? You should. You buried her in it.”

  “No,” Abner said, eyes widening. “No. It can’t be...”

  “Oh, yes,” the man replied. He leaned over and kissed the corpse on the side of the head, before he turned back to Abner. “The lady of the house has returned. Aren’t you happy to see your dearly departed wife?”

  “You monster,” Abner said. He struggled against his magical binds then. His face red with the effort. Veins bulged on his forehead. It was all for naught. Finally, giving up, Abner let out several harsh breaths, his eye
s wild and manic. “How dare you, wizard. How dare you!”

  “What?” he asked innocently. “Haven’t you missed your dear sweet Patricia?”

  Abner closed his eyes and began mumbling his prayers once more.

  The hooded figured leaned in closer to the dead woman. “It’s okay, dear. He’ll warm up to you. Just go over and say hello.”

  And then it truly began.

  The wizard in the charcoal robes handed the dead woman the mallet and spikes.

  “Oh, God,” Eilidh whispered from beside me. “Oh, God, no.”

  I didn’t reply. I couldn’t find the words. Every fiber of my being wanted to look away, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the image in front of me.

  We watched on in silence as the corpse of Abner Craon’s wife hammered the first of the spikes through his palm. That first, piercing scream, would stay with me always. As would those that followed.

  Abner closed his eyes tight and refused to watch what they were doing to him.

  “Now that won’t do,” said the black robed mage, raising a black staff. “We can’t have the star of our show miss out on the fun. Abner’s eyes were forced open then, unnaturally wide. The wizard wanted to make sure he didn’t miss a moment.

  His dead wife nailed him to the wall in the very image of the savior he worshiped. One after another, she drove the spikes through his tender flesh. Each time, the Knight let out a harsh scream, then calmed his breathing and continued his mumbled prayers.

  The video picked up speed then. I had no control to slow it and I didn’t want to.

  The dark wizards had brought no shortage of tools. The dead woman had a collection of rusted knives, pliers, hammers, and so on. She used them all. One after another. We watched image after image of Abner’s wife cutting, slicing, and tearing away chunks from his flesh. Chopping away piece after piece, just enough to inflict pain but not mortally wound.

  As the blood began to flow, the Crimson robed wizard began to create his art on the walls. Smearing his fingers in the blood, he drew a sigil, then went back for more paint and started another.

  Still Abner prayed.

  The video slowed down again, but only briefly.

  “I grow weary of his prayers,” the hooded man said. “Let’s ensure his lord doesn’t hear them. Remove the bad man’s tongue so he may speak no evil. So sayeth the Lord.”

  Mrs. Craon did as her puppet master commanded. She took hold of her husband’s tongue with a pair of pliers and stretched it from his mouth. In her other hand was a serrated dry wall knife. Her work was neither quick nor clean. She sawed the tender flesh, tearing more than cutting. When all that remained was a thin strip of flesh, she ripped it clear with the pliers and let the tongue drop to the bed like a dead worm.

  The video sped up again.

  On and on it went, worse and worse with each passing second.

  It slowed again so we could see her saw his fingers away, one by one.

  It sped up again.

  Then light started to shine through the window and I realized it was nearly morning.

  The video slowed again.

  The wizard in the charcoal gray robe handed the dead woman the enchanted crown of thorns, which she promptly placed upon his head. She used the hammer to drive it on. Then the gray robed mage drew closer and activated whatever working he’d bound to the crown, ensuring they’d be unable to remove it, even after his death.

  Finally, Abner’s dead wife removed his eyes. She plucked one out with a screw driver. She used a corkscrew on the other.

  Abner’s screams were little more than hoarse croaks by that point. Somehow, he’d remained conscious. He should’ve passed out from shock hours earlier. I could only reason this was but another working, some dark spell to ensure he didn’t miss a moment of the pain they inflicted.

  At long last, the dark robed man approached Abner and asked, “Have you enjoyed your time with us, Knight Commander? I know we sure have. I’d tell you to enjoy this one final sunrise, but you don’t have eyes. I regret that for you. It’s shaping up to be a beautiful day.”

  Abner’s lips moved as if to speak, but only a glob of black bile and blood came out.

  “Know this, Abner,” the dark robed wizard said, leaning in close. “I truly hope your lord awaits you. I hope your faith proves true and there is life after death because I want you to see what happens next. I want you too look down from paradise helplessly as we destroy your brotherhood. I want you to watch as we kill your son. They say there can be no pain in heaven, well, we shall see if that’s true. We’re going to do the same to your boy, Abner. Maybe we’ll re-animate you to do the job. Maybe we’ll let mommy and daddy come together to kill the son. Wouldn’t that be appropriate?”

  The mage paused, chuckling. He was clearly pleased with himself. After a few moments, he continued, “A new day is upon us. A time of mages. Out with the bible thumpers and in with those of true power. Goodbye, Abner.”

  The wizard stepped away and the dying man’s wife stepped in. Abner let out one last gasp as she drove an old kitchen knife through his ribcage and into his intestines. They didn’t order their puppet to aim for the heart, no, they didn’t have that kind of mercy.

  Then they left him there, helpless and bleeding to death.

  The video ended.

  Chapter 11

  We stood motionless for several seconds, neither of us speaking.

  Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer and said, “That was... Something.”

  “I’ve seen evil, but this...” Eilidh shuddered. “This is something else.”

  “Dark magic,” I replied, turning to look at her. “I don’t know if growing up in the Colonial Coven was anything like the Cabal, but this is what they taught us about when we were kids. This is what they taught us to respect and fear. True dark sorcery.”

  “Ours was much the same,” she replied. “But they say there aren’t any blood mages, anymore. That no one would dare delve into such wickedness.”

  “And necromancy,” I said. “The one in the black robe. The leader. He was a necromancer.”

  I could scarcely believe the words even as they came out of my own mouth. A necromancer? Here, in Memphis? It was just too much.

  “Also, the one in the gray is a summoner, I believe,” I said. “I don’t know if Uriah mentioned it, but before we got here, we had a run in with a dark mage in gray robes. He summoned demons like something from a Tim Burton acid trip.”

  Eilidh didn’t respond. She probably didn’t know what to say. I sure as hell didn’t.

  It’d been years since my own father passed and while the pain remained, I’d learned to cope with it. But just then, I missed him more than ever. Necromancy, blood magic, and demons. You bet your ass, I missed the Blade Mage. Connor Draven would’ve known what to do. He would’ve rounded up the troops and gone on the hunt. But he was gone and the very sword he carried in life was gripped firmly in my own hand.

  “I need to report this to the sisters,” Eilidh said, starting for the door.

  “Wait,” I told her. “We need to think about this.”

  She paused. “What’s to think about? We need to tell someone.”

  “Eilidh, you saw how powerful they were. Those weren’t three amateurs. They aren’t just dabbling in the dark arts. They are masters of it.”

  “Yeah. All the more reason for us to tell more powerful mages than us.”

  “You aren’t hearing me,” I said, shaking my head. “They are masters.”

  She stared at me for several long seconds then her eyes widened as the realization struck her.

  “You think they were from one of the guilds?” she asked. “One of our guilds?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, putting up my hands in defeat. “But these mages, whoever they are, they must’ve spent years training in forbidden magics. The power it would take to control a corpse like that? To create these complex sigils with blood magic? These are extremely powerful sorcerers. How could they have stayed
in hiding all this time? We would’ve found them. Someone would’ve caught a whiff of their workings at some point, unless… They were hiding right under our noses.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not possible. Not in my coven.”

  “How do you know? How can you be so sure?”

  “And what makes you so sure?”

  “I’m not,” I replied. “But my father was the Blade Mage before me. During his tenure, he tracked down every known mage with exceptional abilities in the dark arts. He partnered with the other guilds and they hunted down every being with significant knowledge in the forbidden magics. But just before he died, he believed there was a secret coven of dark wizards. Everyone laughed at him. It was too farfetched to be true. But now it seems he was right.”

  “But that doesn’t mean they’re part of the guilds,” she said, shrugging. “They aren’t part of mine, anyway. I can’t speak for yours.”

  “And how can you be so sure?” I repeated back to her.

  “Look,” she said, crossing her arms. “I just met you. Based on what you’re saying, how do I know you aren’t part of it?”

  “What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You’re the one who figured out how to play recording. Maybe you’re one of them. Maybe you just showed me all this to mess with me.”

  “You can’t be serious?” I said, motioning toward my sword. “The sword chose me. Isn’t that proof enough?”

  “Oh, I’m supposed to trust some creepy ass ancient druids and their magic swords?”

  “Okay, fine. Look, we’re getting off in the weeds. What do you think we should do, Eilidh?”

  She stared at me for several seconds before she finally said, “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I don’t either,” I replied. “All I’m saying is we should consider it carefully before we take action.”

  She took a step back toward the door, a horrified expression on her face.

  “What?” I asked, glancing around.

  “What if the connection is still here?” she asked. “What if they know we just saw their video? What if they’re watching us, even now?”