Unhallowed Shadows

by Stefanos Kottas

  He draws his pistol and shoots at it. The silver bullet strikes its target and the shadow is shattered. He has no time to rejoice; he sees more shadows converging behind the first one.

  They come after him, he has no choice but to turn and flee.

  He shoots blindly behind him. One, two, three… six more bullets and then he hears the clicking of an empty clip. He tosses the clip away, as he runs. He does not know where he is heading. He tries to find another clip, patting his body, blindly. He reaches a turn and tries not to slow down.

  He stumbles.

  He falls, his knees meet the cold slabs of the floor as he is pulling a clip from a pocket in his clothes. Instinctively, he allows his body to fall down completely, rolling away from the spot where he had stumbled. He hears the irritated screech of a shadow that missed him by an inch. Turning on his back, he shoots a bullet straight to its head. He sees yet another shadow; he manages to hit it, too. The next one attempts to avoid his fire, manages to dodge the first bullet but the next one is right on target. Each shadow that he hits, disappears, no matter where the bullet strikes. A fourth shadow is soon added to the count. A couple more bullets and two more are destroyed. Another empty clip. This time he manages to get hold of a fresh one much quicker. He retreats and keeps shooting, shooting and retreating. Soon, he is out of targets and finally he can turn around to see where he is heading.

  He comes face to face with a shadow.

  He feels its cold hand entering his chest, piercing the vest as if it’s not even there and he has no time to feel pain or realize what happened. The red eyes of the shadow appear to be staring straight at his soul and he gets the impression its sneering malevolently.

  The creature rips his heart from his chest and holds it before him, like a trophy. Marcos vaguely realizes that he’s feeling a sharp pain in his chest. Everything around him is a blur as he collapses. He cannot resist, his eyes close and his consciousness fades away. All he can see before he dies are the reddest eyes of his killer.

  Erica is destroying shadows all around her. Absorbed by the battle, she does not realize that the Creature is smiling. She is dancing amongst her dozens enemies that are now swarming the room. More and more shadows appear, emerging from every corner. She and her sword are moving so fast that they, too, resemble a shadow, a silver one.

  She cannot go on like this for long and she knows it. She must find some way to stop the Creature, but it is still floating up in the air. She scythes a couple more shadows. Some manage to land blows on her, but she cares not, her body can heal those wounds almost instantly.

  She comes up with an idea.

  Completely ignoring the lesser shadows, she runs straight towards the magic orb at the center of the room. She places her sword on the orb and the energy flowing from it to the brazier. Part of the energy is diverted around the two sides of the blade, which acts like a mirror. This energy blasts the creatures chasing her, eradicating them. Erica circles the orb, directing the flow of the energy around the room. Some shadows survive, but many more perish. The Creature roars, furious, summoning the lesser shadows to it. While the shadows rejoin their master, Erica turns to her powers, disappears and immediately materializes on one of the arches in the room, close to the Creature. Focusing on her legs, she launches into the longest leap she had ever attempted. She almost flies into the air, straight at the Creature, with her sword raised above and behind her, ready to bring it down. She gets near, not as much as she had hoped, but manages to reach out with all her might, plunging the blade low in the Creature’s torso. It howls in pain as she drags it down with her. The sword of Saint Peter won’t be ejected from where it struck, no matter how desperately the Creature tries, stretching to grab it.

  Erica draws her two silver daggers, finishes off with these a couple of the minor shadows lingering in the room and then plunges her shorter blades on the Creature. Screeching hysterically, it falls on its shadowy knees. Erica stands before it, staring at it with fierce pride”.

  “I won! And I don’t cut deals”, she announces, triumphantly.

  The Creatures tries to say something, but Erica quickly grabs one of the daggers piercing her shadowy opponent, and with one swift move beheads it.

  She walks away, satisfied.

  Yet, something stirs behind her. She turns to see.

  The Creature has risen again. Its wounds are healing before her very eyes.

  “Where was I? A, yes”, her unholy enemy says, as if they are two good friends catching up. “This child you mentioned perhaps could kill me and is, indeed, to be found here. But, it’s not you. However, you do know who it is; that man you brought with you… but at this very moment one of my shadows is feeding on his heart. My condolences!” the Creature says mockingly and attacks.

  Erica manages to avoid it. She rolls on the floor and the Creatures gnarled claws slash the air above her. She gets back on her feet in one seamless move and grabs her sword from the ground, where it had fallen when her enemy completely regenerated. Tears are flowing from her eyes; she does not want to believe what the Creature told her. She turns and blocks a blow, entirely on instinct. She backs away. Thoughts flood her mind… Marcos is dead… The one who should have been here instead, yielding this sword… Marcos is dead… Marcos, dead… Dead…

  Howling, enraged, she lifts the blade, which is now flashing red.

  She doesn’t need to be the spawn of a demon in order to kill this bastard. She is enough of a demon already. Raising her sword, she counterattacks.

  The shadow slowly eats the heart of the human it killed. Its teeth tear at it, swallowing pieces of muscle. It senses the richness of the energy within the flesh it devours and enjoys its meal without worries.

  It has its back turned to the body and does not notice the two energies flowing from the gaping wound in the chest of the man: the one energy is of purest white, the other black as the night. The white flow envelops the entire body and focuses on healing the wounds and regenerating the heart that is now missing. The black one floats for a while, as if assessing the situation, ignoring the wounds on the body. It flows to the head and enters it through the nostrils, in the form of smoke.

  The wounds disappear.

  The white energy flow tries to enter the head of the man as well, but the black one prevents it. It struggles at first, tries to tip the scales but is already exhausted from the healing it performed. Stripped of options, it reenters the body of the fallen man and wraps itself around his new heart.

  Marcos opens his eyes; they shine black, blacker than the deepest pits. He turns to the shadow standing beside him, which at that very moment is turning towards him to see what is happening. He raises his hand and from his open palm a pillar of flames shoots out, straight from the depths of hell. The shadow does not even screech, it simply evaporates.

  He stands up. He can now sense everything around him, realizes that there are more enemies to dispatch. He smiles to himself and it is a cold smile.

  The sword of Saint Peter has covered her hands in cold flames, without hurting them. Every blow she lands on the Creature saps a small part of its powers. In its attempt to defend itself, it has turned to the remaining blade of Cheops, but Erica is a far more skilled swordfighter.

  The Creature’s screams ring around the room, but despite the multiple blows, it does not appear to be yielding.

  “I am immortal!” it boasts. “Do your worst! When you tire, I’ll still be here to devour you”.

  Its words spur her on to press her attack. The Creature cackles.

  “Let us see what you’re really made of”, it says and counterattacks.

  It tries to strike with its claws Erica’s face, but she turns her blade vertically in front of her, parrying the blow. The Creature persists, in an effort to push the sword away, but the young vampire resists. A third shadowy arm grows out of the side of the Creature, striking a blow that Erica had not been expecting. She screams and backs away. A fourth arm emerges from the other side of the shadowy torso
; its claws grow, become longer with each passing moment, almost like scythes.

  The vampire vanishes momentarily and immediately materializes on her daggers. She picks up both of them, leaving her sword on the floor, right when the Creature lunges at her. She parries the attack of the first pair of hands and evades the second by jumping backwards. She rejoins the fray right in front of the Creature, almost touching it, so that it cannot easily attack with its long limbs. Her daggers flash as she yields them with terrifying speed, landing blows on her enemy. The Creature howls in rage and pain, but it knows that sooner or later it will get her, something which Erica also knows. She feints an attack against its side and the Creature turns to block it. With a somersault, she leaps over it and plunges both daggers straight on the Creature’s head. She picks up the sword of Saint Peter once more and runs towards the center of the room.

  The battle has to end, one way or another.

  With all the strength she can summon, she slams her sword on the magic orb. The orb cracks and fractions of a second later it shatters in a deafening explosion. Erica is blasted back by the force of the wave and the entire room is engulfed by flames. She feels her skin burning and is blinded, the only thing she can see is an intense white light. She loses the struggle against the pain, succumbs to it and loses consciousness.

  The Creature has been evaporated by the force of the explosion, and yet it is the first to return to life. Stunned, it stares at the shattered orb. Its face is a mask of distilled hatred as it turns towards the place where Erica lies, alive but charred from head to toe. The claws on the shadowy arms of the Creature extend once again as it approaches the vampire, ready to rip apart what’s left of her.

  Suddenly, a pillar of fire blasts the Creature.

  It turns and sees Marcos fiercely staring at it from the entrance to the room. His eyes are black like obsidian and a demonic smile stretches his face. The man blasts the Creature with a second pillar of fire, shooting out of his hands. The Shadow screams. Terrified, it turns to look at its wounds, which won’t heal. It seeks refuge in the realm of the shadows. Marcos, however, can still see it and strikes again with his flaming hands.

  The Creature screeches and does the only thing left to do: it flees for its life. Flames lick its heels and, tapping its last reserves, transforms its arms to wings and takes flight. The man beneath tries to shoot it down and almost succeeds. His fiery attack blasts the walls of the Temple. Massive pieces of stone fly to every direction. A part of the fiery pillar gets one of the Creature’s wings. More screaming, more flames. A blast is heard from one of the upper levels of the structure. The charges have begun detonating due to the excessive heat. The entire Temple is starting to crumble and the Creature manages to escape from a hole in the outer wall which was opened by the explosions.

  Meanwhile, larger parts of the structure are falling down. Marcos looks at Erica, as flames are beginning to form once again on his palms. He is about to kill her. He pauses and holds his head in his hands, as if a sudden ache had taken over. He takes a step forward and again pauses. The flames in his palms fizzle and he drops on his knees. He stays there for several moments, despite the fact that the building is collapsing. He gets up and looks again at Erica. This time, his eyes are clear. He walks to her, picks her up in his arms and runs as fast as he can towards the exit.

  Seconds later, the brazier, which had been placed at the top of the Temple, slams down on the floor of the central room and shatters into a thousand pieces.

  Lucas’ armor had scratches all over it, as if mauled by some wild beast. The giant’s arms had tired from the battle, but he would not give up. He imagined Erica inside the Temple battling the Creature and he refused to let her down by allowing the accursed Dead ones to enter the complex.

  The first explosion distracted him enough for one of the undead creatures to land a blow to his face with its claws. Fresh blood shot out of the gaping slash that had cut his face from end to end and, enraged, Lucas brought down his sword, splitting the Dead one’s head in two. A succession of blasts was heard at that moment around the Temple and he risked a glance towards Travis.

  “Did you detonate the explosives?” he asked, stunned.

  “No!” complained the hacker, equally in the dark as to what had happened.

  He wondered silently whether he should go inside, but the Dead ones prevented him from doing so. The instant the first explosion was heard, they redoubled their efforts to break into the Temple.

  The battle did not last long. Large parts of the Temple behind them were blasted by the succession of explosions and suddenly the entire roof of the structure collapsed.

  Fractions of a second later, all the Dead turned into ashes at once.

  Triumphant cheers rang out, coming from both the humans and Travis but Lucas, who was standing before the entrance, under the archway, realized that they were now facing a much direr problem. His skin was burning, exposed to the sun above them.

  “All the humans out, NOW!” he roared and sought refuge deeper under the archway.

  Travis looked at him, terrified; he had realized what was happening.

  “What do we do now?” he asked, his voice almost drowning in the thundering collapse of the Temple.

  “Grab the largest stone you can lift…” Lucas began to instruct him, but he did not get the chance to complete his phrase.

  From within the Temple, Marcos emerged, carrying Erica in his arms. Behind him, the entire structure was turning to rubble.

  “Take her!” he roared to the giant and almost tossed her to him.

  Without losing a moment, Marcos turned to the entrance and raised his arms towards the top of the archway, at the point where it met the Temple. Fiery pillars shot out obediently from his palms, crushing the stones of the arch, blocking the entrance to the Temple. The two vampires were staring at him, speechless, but he paid no attention to them. Turning to the back of the arch, he repeated the process, effectively sealing them all in there.

  He had trapped them inside the corridor leading to the Temple, but at the same time he had protected them from the sun. He took Erica in his arms again and nodded to Lucas, gesturing towards the part of the archway over their heads which had not collapsed.

  “Your turn”, he simply said and the giant understood.

  Marcos sat down, trying to protect as best as he could his head and Erica’s torso, while the other two vampires prepared for the complete collapse of the structure.

  They did not have to wait long.

  Hours later, with the sun now below the horizon, James and Sir Philip, along with the few mercenaries who had survived, set about removing those stones that they could. Without machinery, their goal seemed impossible to attain, but they did their best; they were working from the outside, while Lucas from the inside.

  Almost an hour passed before they were able to see the giant’s head emerging from under the rubble. Behind him, inside a small pocket amongst the ruins, Marcos, Erica and Travis were lying on the floor, all of them safe and sound. Erica’s wounds had healed and she was now wearing the massive shirt Lucas had been wearing under his armor; the armor itself could be seen amongst the rubble.

  “The kid came up with a few new tricks and he can self-heal now!” was the first comment Lucas made, cheerfully, pointing at Marcos.

  “Remember that theory of yours, before we came here? Well, you were a little off the mark. Just a bit!” Travis shouted from further back, half-jokingly.

  Exhausted, they emerged from the ruins. The two knights had several questions for them, as to what happened in there and whether the Creature had been vanquished. They were bitterly disappointed to learn that it had managed to escape, but were excited to hear that it was in fact Marcos the child they had been searching for.

  “He’s coming with us”, said the two knights almost simultaneously, in a most determined voice.

  “Out of the question”, Erica replied immediately.

  “Why, are we not leaving together?” wondere
d Travis.

  “Well, since the helicopters were destroyed, we’ll have to walk back, all together up to a point, but when we return to civilization, unavoidably we’ll go our separate ways. This was a temporary alliance”, explained James. “Do not misunderstand us”, he added, “we won’t be parting as enemies, but we cannot be friends with vampires. We must return to our base and regroup, in order to begin pursuing the Creature once again”.

  It was Marcos’ turn to speak:

  “And you have no issue having a demon in your midst?”

  “Half-demon”, commented Sir Philip, as if in this way he was answering Marcos’ question.

  Marcos shot him an ironic glance, showing clearly what he thought about that little detail.

  The two knights tried for a while more to present their arguments as to why Marcos should go with them, how they would be able to better help him, but he would not listen. He was staring straight ahead, towards the darkness covering the desert. He was feeling threatened, as if shadows were about to emerge from the darkness, as if he could see countless pairs of red eyes staring back at him. Unbidden, the moment when one of the shadows was ripping out his heart returned to his mind. The next scene was even scarier, as he stood staring at Erica, his palms flaming. He wanted to believe that this had never happened, that it had been a mere nightmare. He could hardly recall doing battle against the Creature. It all felt like one big nightmare. To the others, he had said that he had forced the Creature to retreat and then he grabbed Erica and ran out, and they had accepted it. They did not doubt him, had no reason to. He turned and looked at the young vampire. She smiled at him. The image of the flames returned to his mind. “What was happening to him?” he wondered silently, once again. He did not have time to process all that had happened, as for example what it actually meant to be the child of an archangel and an archdemon. A year ago he would have laughed even at the suggestion that these supernatural creatures actually existed, and now it turned out he was one of them. He smiled awkwardly at Erica and turned again towards the darkness. He had begun suspecting that something was wrong since he had faced that female vampire a couple of days ago, when his wounds seemed to heal on their own, but he never admitted it, even to himself. He chose to think that his recovery was the result of Erica’s blood, which was still coursing through his veins. Annoyed with himself, he kicked the sand. Everyone turned and looked at him.